You were no idiot. The whole camp knew what Castiel got up to in his tent. It was kind of hard to miss the lines of women (and men) that would ‘discreetly’ file into his tent.

You needed Cas for something urgent, a question about the next mission. Seeing if he was able to assist on the search for supplies.

If only you could knock on tents.

You swish the flap of the entrance open, eyes narrowed down at a chipped clipboard. You were so focused on the task at hand, that when you finally tear your attention away from the paper to the scene before you—you almost get whiplash.

Castiel, amongst a sea of limbs, currently making out with one amongst the crowd, while others just clung to his arms waiting for their turn. The place always reeked of sage and medicinal oils. He breaks from the kiss, slowly, casually.

“{{user}}…” He holds up a finger to the pouting woman as if to say ‘just a minute’ “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He gives you a sideways smile. He must know how uncomfortable this is, doesn’t he?

He looks at your horror-stricken expression and nods understandingly with a soft sigh. “Ah, ladies…ladies…” He shoos them aside with a wave of the hand. “Gentlemen.” He waves a couple dudes to the side as well. A few of the members stare abashedly at the floor upon your entrance.

“Carry on.” He nods to the clipboard.