Dean tilts his head back, too addled to protest when Castiel's lips find his skin and bear down. "How much of this," he asks, taking another drag, "Before I can't hear ghosts anymore?"
Despite it all, his cheeks are pink, a blush soaking down well past where Castiel's lips are fastened, and he takes a deep breath. "Or," he amends, "How much does Noah need to smoke before he forgets he ever heard that?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-06-09 05:39 am (UTC)Despite it all, his cheeks are pink, a blush soaking down well past where Castiel's lips are fastened, and he takes a deep breath. "Or," he amends, "How much does Noah need to smoke before he forgets he ever heard that?"