Characters: Castiel, Sam, Dean
Word Count: None
Disclaimer: I don't own them
Castiel really should consult the Winchesters before he makes any big decisions.
The Winchesters stood open-mouthed, staring at the vision before them from his blue buzz-cut and nose-stud, down over his Megadeth T-shirt, obscenely tight stonewashed jeans which seemed to be composed more of holes than of denim, down to his Doc Martin boots.
Sam rubbed his brow in exasperation, Dean looked like he was about to be sick.
Eventually, it was Dean that found his tongue.
"Cas," he groaned.
"Yeah," the angel replied around the gum he was chewing.
"Cas, when you were talking about changing your image," Dean sighed; "I thought you were just gonna buy a new coat!"