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Castiel scanned the dark interior, rounded a corner, gasped. Dean was there, slamming a hand to the wall beside his head.
“Dean-”
Red and blue neon striped Dean’s face as he leaned in, the kiss quick, filthy - all tongue, teeth, and heat. Castiel made a small, helpless sound into Dean’s mouth, fingers curling in his jacket.
“Gotcha.” Dean stepped back, pulled the trigger… then was gone.
Castiel’s vest flashed red, buzzing indignantly.
Castiel stood, stunned, lips tingling. He exhaled, eyes narrowing.
“Dean Winchester,” he vowed, “I’m going to hunt you down.”
Somewhere down the corridor, Dean laughed and ran.
THE END