Dean walks through the line and looks for the most beautiful girl he can talk to. Then he finds her, "Hey there, how're you today?"
She blushes and smile, "I'm fine. Not perfect but okay, you?"
"I'm doing great now," he says with his most charming smile, "Dean Winchester. And you are?"
She pushes a hair behind her ear, "Uh, it's Amanda...Amanda Heckerling," she blushes more as she stammers.
"That's a beautiful name, Amanda," Dean smiles at her.
They've been in line for a while now and Dean is getting more nervous as they get closer to the boarding. So, he tells the story of his first plane ride.
"Y'know that the higher altitude that you're at, the quicker you get hammered? I mean, planes fly at like...280,000 feet, so, I mean, I am FLYIN'! And then the stewardess gave me three drink coupons. How sweet is that?" Dean knows he's being stupid and losing her attention but he's so nervous that he can't seem to stop himself from talking. He doesn't notice Amanda as she rolls her eyes though, "I feel like I'm in the Bourbon and Coke mileage club. You know it's just the first time-"
Dean doesn't seem to notice the TSA officer either as she says, "Ticket and I.D., please."
"I've ever been on a plane and the airline's buying ME drinks…"
"Ticket and I.D., please!" she yells at him, growing more impatient.
He hands the officer his ticket and I.D. before turning back to Amanda, "Where you going to? ...Kansas City? Me too!"
"You know what? Maybe we should sit together."
"Sir," the officer glares at him, "You are not going anywhere unless you pay attention."
"Where are you from?" she asks, looking up at him.
"Uh," he point to his I.D., "Lawrence, Kansas actually...return flight home," he smiles awkwardly.
She looks at his I.D. and ticket once more and hands them back to him.
"You have small hands. Like a little boy," she says, stone faced.
Dean looks down awkwardly and his hands and hides them behind his back, looking at Amanda, "I'll-I'll see you on the other side, okay?"
Smiling at her, he walks to the screening area so he can get to the boarding zone.
A woman with a badge that says Missouri Moseley yells, "Folks, please! Don't let me have to say this again: No liquids-pull out your laptops, cellphones, pocket change, shoes, please!"
Dean calls over her attention, "Uh...boots?"
She raises an eyebrow at him, "Are you asking me if a boot is a shoe?"
He laughs awkwardly, "No," he hops around, trying to pull his boots off and tosses them on the table.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, I'd rather not-"
"Fine. OPT OUT," she yells, "Male assist."
"Wh-what's a "male assist"?" he swallows hard.
A man walks up to Dean, all blue eyes and deep voice, "Sir, right this way please," he says, pulling aside a rope, "Place your feet on the yellow footprints," he orders, putting the rope back in place.
Dean complies and the man-Castiel. His badge says so-turns back towards him, "Okay, I'm going to give you a pat down. I'll let you know where I'm going to touch you before I touch you. And I will use the back of my hands for all sensitive areas."
"Sensitive areas?" Dean raises an eyebrows to this.
"Underarms, inner thighs, under your waistband, and I will need you to unbuckle your belt, please," Castiel explains.
"Whoa. Nobody's sticking their hands in my pants."
Castiel smiles slightly at the man and says gently, "Sir, I'll have you on your way shortly."
"I'm not getting felt up by a dude in the middle of an airport."
"Just calm down."
"Sir. Just… this is going to save a lot of time."
Dean crosses his arms and purses his lips with a hell no attitude. Castiel just rolls his eyes and yells, "Okay. Private pat down!"
Dean looks over at Amanda who's having her hair felt through by Missouri and mouths "What?"
Amanda just shrugs and lets Missouri continue in her hair so Dean turns to follow Castiel obediently.
Dean grabs his boots and walks towards Castiel who is now holding a door open for him and saying, "Have a seat," he shuts the door behind Dean and goes into a room opposite Dean's.
Walking in, Dean automatically feels uncomfortable. The bright fluorescent lights bothering his eyes while a harsh automated security message plays on repeat. Dean sits down in the chair in the middle of the room.
Suddenly the lights turn off and he door opens, revealing Castiel's silhouette. Dean squints in the darkness, trying to make out who it is. Castiel comes in, shuts the door and flips a different set of lights on. This one soft and warm instead of harsh and bright. Dean notices that two of Castiel's buttons are undone now.
"Is the temperature okay in here for you?" Castiel asks while pulling down a picture to cover the "Rules and Regulations" TSA poster on the wall. "It's a little chilly?"
"It's okay," Dean replies, the confusion evident in his voice.
Castiel walks over to a table in the room, smiling and looking at Dean, "Lemme guess, you are a...Bourbon and Coke man?"
"Sure," Dean says, glad he can at least have some alcohol in his system before the flight.
"I knew it," Castiel grins. Castiel flips a switch and up pops a bar, music starts playing in the background and Cas starts mixing drinks. "So...you traveling alone?"
"Yeah," Dean says, looking around.
"Where ya headin'?"
"Kansas City. What does this have to do with security-"
"Kansas City. I haven't been to Kansas City since I was-oh, I musta' been sixteen," Castiel says, grinning and looking very reminiscent, "So, uh...is this a work trip?"
"No," Dean smiles, thinking about it, "It's my mom, a home cooked meal and an old fling. You do the math, amigo."
"I like those numbers," Castiel says, patting Dean's arm as he hands him is drink, "Whoa. Somebody works out," he sits down across from Dean, smiling and leaning close.
"Oh...well, just workin' on cars and stuff."
"I can tell," Castiel says, pointing a bit at Dean's muscles.
"So, cars, what does that mean? You work at an auto shop?"
"Yeah, I work with my Uncle Bobby."
"You two close?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you could say that."
"Yeah?" Castiel looks at him, so focused on what he's saying.
"I had to be. It was either Uncle Bobby or him."
"What do you mean?" Castiel says, standing up and going over to the bar.
Dean brings his drink to his lips, "John," Dean takes a sip and says, "That bastard. He drank too much when we were kid. Me and my brother."
Castiel comes over and pours another airliner sized bottle of Bourbon into Dean's glass, "Oh man...sounds rough."
"Yeah. You know, he'd have his usual big night out with the bottle. Just come home...swingin'."
Castiel moves behind Dean and puts his hands on his shoulders, patting them and moving lower.
Dean jumps slightly at the touch, "Hey, are we almost done here?"
Castiel breathes in deeply before replying, "Yeah, yeah, almost. Can I ask you what cologne that is that you're wearing?"
"Oh, that ain't cologne. That's just me."
"Oh yeah? Just give me your arm here," Castiel says, moving under Dean's arm and going down to his hands, "Lots of guys, they really don't smell good without something to cover things up, but you smell very nice. Even without any cologne."
"Thank you…" Dean says as Castiel continues his explorations on his upper body before pulling Dean up by his underarms while saying, "Okay, up you go."
"Kay," Dean says, getting steady as Castiel slides his hands down his back.
"So, that must have been scary for you and your little brother."
"It was, yeah, but bruises heal, you know? But little Sammy…"
Castiel comes around to Dean's front, looks him in the eyes and says, "I'm going to scan your legs now," dropping to his knees in front of Dean, he does just that.
"Go on," Castiel says, looking up at Dean with those wide blue eyes.
"W-Well, y'know, hell if I was gonna let anything happen to Sammy," he says, watching Castiel as he touches him.
"Back of hands," he says looking up at him.
"I-I just made sure that old man was wore out by the time he got to him."
"Worn out?" Castiel asks, standing back up so hes looking right into Dean's eyes.
"Yeah. Wore out."
Still standing in front of Dean, Castiel says, "I'll just get your buttocks here," he says, reaching around Dean and grabbing his ass.
"Ooh, um. I took all the punches. So-so, you know, so he was worn out by the time he got to Sammy," he says, his voice getting quieter and more breathy. Castiel looks into Dean's eyes. "You know, I don't know how many times I went to bed busted up...but little Sammy was safe."
Castiel continues looking into Dean's eyes as he feels his way up his back and says, "Well, he was safe because of you. So brave. I'm gonna pat down your chest now."
Dean nods slowly and says, with a gruff voice, "Okay," as Castiel slides his hands over his chest. "He's doing really good though."
"Yeah, he's going to Stanford University to become a lawyer….in California…" he mumbles as Castiel's hands make their way to jeans and under his belt buckles.
"You must be so proud…" Castiel says, unbuckling Dean's belt and pulling him closer.
"Yeah," Dean says, no longer paying attention to his words. Just the feeling of Castiel touching him, "He's got a family of his own too…"
Castiel looks into Dean's eyes as he says, "I'm gonna put two fingers in your waistband...I'll move real slow…"
Dean nods slowly and stares into Castiel's eyes, the music seeming to get louder as he says, "Okay."
Castiel pulls Dean closer, Dean slowly moving in for a kiss when Cas yells at the top of his lungs, "All Clear!"
The original lights turn back on, bright and fluorescent as Castiel grabs the drink out of Dean's hand and turns, "Have a safe flight," he says as he leaves. Castiel throws Dean's drink and his own gloves, that he had been wearing the entire time, into the trashcan and Dean is left with his jaw dropped and his eyes wide.
Dean walks out of the room, his boots held close to his chest. He gets out just in time to see Castiel button up his shirt and Amanda look back and forth from Cas to Dean with a look of disgust on her face. Dean stares at Cas, not caring what Amanda thinks as she walks away, a small smile curling onto his lips as he tries to get Castiel's attention back on him.
"Opt out! Male Assist!" Dean hears Missouri yell off to his right and his smile drops...so, he isn't the only one.
Dean goes through the motions of boarding, no longer nervous about the flight. Too busy thinking about the TSA officer that will never be his.