1 Of hair dryers...

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//Hey guys, girls, and people(s) idk
this is my first fanfic ever!
i'm so excited!
and I just can't hide it!

...ahem...hope you like it//

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* whoosh *
Castiel appeared next to Dean. Said Hunter lay in bed completely engrossed in his series, sipping on a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Dean, what purpose does this strange apparatus serve?"

Dean jumped.
And flailed his arms.
Thus, tilting the bottle.
Thus, spilling the remaining part of his beer on his shirt.
"Dammit Cas! How many times have I told you not to fly next to me out of thin air!? I -"

"1.489 times."

Dean opened his mouth and shut it again. "You count that?" he asked. Then he tilted his head to inspect his drenched shirt. "Oh, come on!" Dean rolled his eyes, leaned against the upper edge of the motel's bed, and sighed. "Cas, I'm starting to wonder which of my shirts does not have an an-angel-has-scared-me-half-to-death-beer-stain."

Castiel tilted his head slightly to the side and frowned. "You did not answer my question yet."

"Huh?"

At the sight of Dean's eloquent way of expression, Castiel rolled his eyes. "The question I have just asked you was: What purpose does this strange apparatus serve?"

Dean turned his head to look at the object in Castiel's extended hand. "That's a hair dryer. You use it to dry your hair. Speaking of dry, I need a new shirt. This one's completely soaked." He rolled over to the edge of the bed and silenced the television. After one last look at his ruined shirt, he stood up and traversed the room.

Castiel followed him a few steps. "How does one use a hair dryer?"

Dean bent down and began to rummage around in his duffel bag. Without looking up, he said, "You really wanna know how to handle a hair dryer? What do you even need a hair dryer for? You should be able to -" Dean turned around briefly and spun around his hands erratically, "use your angel-mojo, right?"

"I could," Castiel leaned against the wall. "Nevertheless I would very much like to learn more about humans and their technological achievements. This is going to help me adapt to my surroundings during mundane activities. Thus, I will be able to converse with other humans inconspicuously."

Dean, who had found a new black shirt in the meantime, stared at Castiel with raised eyebrows. "Converse with other humans inconspicuously!? Cas, do you ever listen to yourself?"

"I have."

"Yes, see?," Dean got up and shuffled towards the bath.

Castiel went along with him. " I do see a lot of things. I see you, the floor, the wall, the bathroom door -" A loud smack echoed through the room.

Dean stood in the doorway, one hand on his forehead, the other hand still clutched his new shirt. "Figure of speech, Cas, figure of speech." He dropped his shirt on the edge of the sink and took the hair dryer from Castiel. And, maybe, the hunter's warm hand touched Castiel's a bit longer than absolutely necessary, but Castiel would never complain about that.

"Anyways," Dean continued, now fully immersed in his role as a teacher, "I – the one and only Mr. Dean Awesome Winchester – will teach you how a hair dryer works! This thing here," he pointed at a hole in the wall, "is a socket. You put the cable of the hair dryer in there. Now, it's got power. Got it?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded slightly.

"Good. Now you push this button upwards. That's all. Wanna try?"

Sounds easy enough, Cas thought, took the hair dryer and looked at it from all sides. He placed it in front of his head. His fingers found the button and pushed it upward, just as Dean told him to. However the angel had not considered the power of this little machine. It blew the air straight into his face with such force, that Castiel closed his eyes out of shock. "Dean, do something!" he growled, trying to get this button down again while Dean laughed. Loudly. And extensively.

After a few seconds Castiel had defeated the hair dryer – by pulling the plug out of the socket – and glared daggers at the hunter. "Very helpful, Dean. When I am going to need help in the future, I know who not to confide in."

He positioned himself in front of the mirror and rearranged his vessel's messy hair. At least he tried to. Sometimes his hair was 'a hopeless case', as Dean would say. Well then, hair, you can stay like this then, Castiel thought, grabbed Dean's shirt and turned around energetically.

Since Dean and him were still standing in the bathroom of a motel (which was accordingly spatially limited), he collided with the other man, who – for whatever reason – had only been standing there with dreamy eyes.

"Uhm Dean?" he asked, their faces nearly touching.

"Hmm?" Dean's gaze was fixed on Castiel's lips.

The angel felt his cheeks warm up. He cleared his throat. "Dean."

"Yeah, what...what?" Dean's eyes focused again. He looked up.

"Here's your shirt."

"Thanks"

"You're welcome. It was a pleasure to be of service."

Silence engulfed them both.

"I'm going to put it on then. The shirt, I mean," Dean said.

Castiel nodded. The hunter scratched the back of his head, his eyes glancing at the toilet seat and then everywhere but at the person in front of him. "Uhm, could you maybe, you know," he stammered, "uh, can you leave the room please? Personal space, Cas, remember?"

"Oh, of course, Dean. I'll just wait here then," Cas pointed at the living room. Even though he certainly would have taken delight in the sight of the hunter's bare torso, he respected the wish of his friend.
Additionally, Dean would probably prefer using the toilet alone without Castiel watching over him. Humans, did they ever get tired of urinating? I will never get used to it, Castiel thought while squeezing past Dean and through the doorway.

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