Summary: Sam's been giving Dean a hard time lately, and he's gonna get payback. And of course, he's gotta drag Cass along.
Rating: T
Warnings: boy kiss at the end and language
AN: Explanation of inspiration is located at the end of the story... It shows how much I'm dying for the new season that this was the first thing to pop into my mind.
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Castiel was confused. What else was new? The amount of time he spent confused anymore would have been slightly alarming if the reason hadn't been Dean Winchester, a man that could confuse the most qualified of experts.
Currently his Winchester was walking around a small, dusty corner store, the third that day in fact, and Castiel still wasn't quite sure what they were searching for or why.
The store was obviously old, with all wooden sets of shelves and dust covering everything in varying degrees of thickness. The shelves themselves seem to go on for ages, each packed with forgotten and out-of-date trinkets.
This grand search was somehow connected to the events of the week before, he knew that much. But still, his logic driven mind could not come up with a solution to how that related to Dean's very odd search today. What a surprise, the actions of a Winchester not following or fitting into logic. What. A. Shocker.
Huh. Maybe he was gaining a better understanding of sarcasm. But, back to the puzzle at hand...
Trying to pick his words carefully, Castiel spoke up, "Dean. This search we're on, does it relate to a hunt you and Sam are currently on?"
Dean sighed as he scanned a shelf just below eye level, picking up a trinket but replacing it after turned out to be a porcelain cat standing on its hind legs. "No Cas, for the fifth time, no. There is no case right now." The man's already stiff posture tensed even more in his shoulders. "This is somethin'...personal." This made Castiel frown. Personal?
"I'm not sure..." Castiel tried but didn't know where he planned on going with that start. He tried again. "Personal how?"
"Personal, like Sam is need of a Big Brother Beat Down," Dean's chest puffed for a moment before he shuffled slight, "but the punk can take me in a fight these days. Luckily, I'm not above playing dirty." Castiel watched him smirk in a way that couldn't mean anything good for Sam, but felt no less confused.
"And why does Sam require this, uh, 'beat down'?"
"Cause he's a jerk that enjoys makin' me miserable, that's why." The two were nearing the back of the store now and the wooden shelves were getting dustier and more cluttered. Apparently this store was not often visited. Dean, noticing the still very confused crease in his angel's brow, huffed. "Oh come one, Cas. Even you can't be that blind." All he got was a head tilt. "Sam's been torturin' me all week! How've you not noticed him puttin' me through hell?"
Now Castiel wore a different kind of frown. "Whatever Sam has supposedly done to you recently, I think that comparison is a bit exaggerated."
"Oh," Dean waved his hand, disregarding Castiel's tone entirely, "don't go gettin' all literal with me. And there's no 'supposedly' to it. That jerk's been puttin' me through a ringer this week and I'm gettin' some payback." He turned toward the nearest set of shelves picked up an oddly shaped toy and blew off the coating of dust. It him in the face, making him gag and cough before dropping it back in its place.
Tired of Dean's indirect answers, Castiel stepped into the man's space and turned Dean to face him. "What did Sam do to upset you this much?" He kept his face calm, not wanting to give Dean any ammunition to avoid the question.
Dean stared right into the angel's too-blues eyes. "You really haven't notice him givin' me a hard time?" Castiel shook his head. Dean fought to urge to roll his eyes and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Last week," said Dean, breaking eye contact, "when he bust in the room and found us, um..."
"Intimate?" supplied Castiel after a moment.
Dean laughed a little awkwardly, "Yeah, that. Well, I know he said he's cool with it, and he is. But, he's also a little brother, and it's, like," he looked back into the angel's face, "the job of little brothers to use any dirt on their big brothers they can."
Alright, part of that made sense to Castiel. "But Sam told you, if you're happy he doesn't care." Dean wasn't one for displays of affection anywhere near a public place, but Castiel chanced placing one of his hands atop the one Dean had on his shoulder. Dean's cheek sunk in as he chewed on it in thought. Castiel watched the way the jawed moved, wishing now that this conversation was in a place even less public than this empty shop.
"Alright," said Dean finally, laughing at his own thoughts. "Alright, think of it this way: if Gabriel was still here, wouldn't he be a dick about it? Wouldn't he be drivin' ya crazy 'bout it? Sayin' stuff to be annoying?" Dean laughed again. "Ya know, makin' jokes you prolly wouldn't even understand?" Castiel looked over Dean's shoulder, head tilted, a faraway look in his eyes as if considering.
"Hmm, I see your point. Though technically Gabriel was my elder, just much less mature." Taking his and Dean's hands off his shoulder he looked back at his hunter. "So how has Sam been achieving this? I have honestly not noticed any difference in his behavior."
"It's little shit. That bitch's been playing nothing but Clay Aiken and Adam Lambert all week on his laptop." Dean actually visibly cringed at his own words. "And crap he says! Whenever you're not around, he asks shit about whether some guy on tv or on the street is 'my type'. And then yesterday was the last straw. That jack ass left a bottle of-" Suddenly Dean's face was pink and getting darker by the second. He rubbed his neck and cleared his throat, throwing glances at Castiel, whose face was expectant. When Dean didn't continue, Castiel spoke up.
"Well I don't understand half of that but I'll take your word for it that they are great grievances. What are you looking for?" Dean was still recovering from his embarrassment but managed to choke out something about clowns as he dusted off what turned out to be a glass unicorn with faded pink paint.
"Let's just say, Sammy ain't exactly a fan of 'em." Castiel nodded and began scanning shelves himself. Dean, appearing to have pulled himself together, mumbled something about asking at the cash register.
Not five minutes later Castiel heard Dean laugh loudly and happily from across the store. "Oh, God, that is perfect!" Deciding to avoid scaring the employee in the shop, Castiel opted to walk back to the front of the store rather than just pop in next to Dean as he usually would have. Following Dean's voice he found him rather quickly and stepped out from between the last row of shelves in time to see something large with red string hair being placed in a larger paper bag.
Dean was smiling broadly at the pleasant elderly woman behind a counter stuffed with a collection of porcelain figures, everything from cats and dogs to flowers and ballerinas.
"Ma'am, you have made my day." If Castiel hadn't known better, he would've thought Dean was happy enough to kiss the woman. She just looked happy to have someone step foot in the shop.
'Aw, well you're welcome, dear." She laughed and patted Dean's arm with a warm smile. "You boys have a good day."
"Oh, we will now." Dean said as they walked to the door. "And thanks again. I'm sure my brother's gonna love this." As they closed the door behind them and stepped onto the sidewalk outside, Dean let out an almost maniacal laugh.
"So, you found satisfactory clown memorabilia?" asked Castiel.
"Oh yeah." Dean pulled from the bag a large, stuffed clown doll with red strings for hair, a yellow shirt, neon green and blue over-all's, a red bow tie, and a cheery blue hat. Even Castiel, with his limited understanding of people and their odd hobbies and entertainment, thought the toy looked acceptably cute.
"And this will bother your brother? Why?"
"Hey, I don't know why Sam hates clowns, I don't really care. As long as I can use it against 'im, I'm not lookin' the gift horse in the mouth." Castiel couldn't help but think that level of evil really shouldn't be seen on Dean's face. It was a tad frightening to see him so excited about torturing his brother, no matter how harmless it all really was.
Dean put the clown back in the bag and started donw the street. "Ya see, Cas, once Sammy is asleep, he's a cuddler. Always has been. When we were kids it drove me crazy. Kid couldn't help grabbin' the nearest warm body. So, I figure, I just gotta wait 'til he's good and asleep, then put this," he held up the toy, "in the bed with 'im, and he'll wake up snugglin' it." Dean was so obviously proud of himself it was practically rolling of him in waves. "If that doesn't freak him out, I don't know what will."
As the two men walked back to the lot Dean had parked the Impala in, Castiel became more and more impatient with Dean's fits of giggles (yes, giggles) at the prospect of traumatizing Sam. As they reached the car and made to get inside, the angel paused as a thought formed in his head.
Dean was already in and about to start the car when he realized Castiel was hovering with only a foot inside.
"What's up, Cass? I won't get far with you hangin' out like that, ya know." Castiel slowly lowered himself into the impala's leather seat but left the passenger door ajar, a thoughtful look on his face. "Hello, Earth to Cass. You there? Dude, come on, snap out of it!" Dean actually snapped his fingers a few inches from Castiel's face before the angel came out of his daze. The look he gave Dean was reproachful, but the hunter wouldn't have it. "Hey, don't look at me like that. You were the one zonin' out over there. What's up?"
Seeming to be gathering his thoughts, the angel gave Dean one of his long, searching looks, all blue eyes and intensity. Dean stared back, almost forgetting he was waiting for an answer until Castiel finally spoke.
"Something you said, about Sam's methods of teasing you."
Dean raised an eye brow. "Yeah, my humiliation, what about it?"
"You say Sam would question your 'type'. This means your preference, yes? In partners."
The only way to describe Dean's face would've been shocked. "Uh, yeah, it does, but I don't see-"
"I was wondering. Well, I was wondering if you had one. A preference." Hearing Castiel so hesitant would've been weird enough for Dean without the extremely unpredictable words coming out of his mouth. The two combined made him feel like the cartoon characters that shake their heads and make the 'brererer" noises.
"So, to be clear, you wanna know if I have a type? A, uh, 'preference' in-"
"In sexual partners."
"Right." Castiel sat there so prim and proper, hands in his lap, staring at Dean as though this conversation wasn't at all weird. But it was, dammit. It was off the wall and random and why would Cass ever need to ask a question like that.
Dean was chewing on that cheek again and Castiel was simply watching him, waiting curiously. This was so not a conversation he wanted to have right now. Or ever. So the question became how to avoid talking about it, while answering well enough that Cass would be satisfied. Well, there was the one fail-safe way of avoidance.
Through all his quick thinking Castiel simply waited for Dean, watching his eyes expressing the turmoil where words failed him. Finally Dean quit chewing and took a deep breath, chest rising and falling in a calming way before he reached over and let his hand rest on the place the angel's neck and shoulder met.
"Why," he began to lean in to Castiel's space, "would ya need t' ask a stupid question like that? I would think the answer's pretty damn obvious, Cass." Castiel stayed silent with his back to the seat, but Dean could see the smallest of smiles at the corner of his mouth. Giving a small huff he moved his hand to grab a corner of Castiel's trench coat and pulled the angel just far enough for a quick, firm kiss.
When he pulled back and let go of the coat, Castiel wore a look of mild surprise. "Affection in a public venue, I'm impressed." And before Dean could respond the angel pulled him back in for another, longer kiss, transporting them back to the hotel while he was at it. Dean couldn't find it in himself to be upset he'd have to wait to pull his prank on Sam.
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So, Happy International Clown Week! lol Found out it was this week and spent the next couple days drumming this up. Hope it's not too random or off the wall.
Can't wait for the new season or for season 6 to come out on dvd next month.
R&R, plzplzplz lol.