To destielpudding: Here you go, Haylee! I know that you originally asked for Cas to be drunk when he opened up to Dean, but I kind of strayed from that idea. Hope you still like it!
A/N: This story is unfinished. I will be updating this same chapter when I'm able to finish it, and I'll post an update to tell you as a second chapter when I do. Sorry it's a little OOC. Please drop by a review and tell me if you liked it or not and how I can improve my writing!
Today was the last day Jimmy Novak would get to ask him. The last chance. The 11th hour. He tapped his pencil nervously, eyes flashing from the theology paper he was supposed to be writing up to Dean Winchester.
Jimmy liked to think that it wasn't creepy at all to stare at the boy across from him every waking moment of class. It probably was, but he still got a rush of excitement whenever he was able to study the way he worked. Dean's eyes, a bright candy apple green, scanned the textbook slowly. He chewed on his lip, frowning slightly whenever he got an idea. And when he finally formed the words to put on paper, he would hurriedly scrawl it down. Dean always told everyone that he didn't care about school at all, but Jimmy knew he was just saying it so he wouldn't look like a "friggin' geek", as he put it. That was the 23rd reason of many for which he loved Dean Winchester.
Dean sighed loudly, slamming his textbook shut. He glanced up at Jimmy, who immediately went back to his paper and try to look as if he hadn't been staring at him for the past five minutes.
"This," Dean said, pointing down at his paper, "is a load of crap."
"Why did you take the class if you weren't interested?" Jimmy asked, blue irises peeking over the table shyly.
"I don't know, man, I thought this class would be easier than the others," Dean said. "I mean, how am I supposed to answer this?" He spun his paper around and presented the paper's prompt: 'If Jesus is God, and God is uncaused, immaterial, omniscient, omnipotent, and eternal, then don't we have a problem with Jesus being a real man who lived in 1st century Palestine?' "Seriously, what the hell? I can't answer this!"
"I don't understand why you picked the most difficult prompt in the first place if you wanted the class to be easy." Jimmy asked. "It's unlike you, Dean."
"Amanda told me that if I didn't get at least a B in every class, her parents would think I'm some sort of delinquent," Dean replied, huffing and sitting back in his chair. "Oh yeah, and did I mention that she also wants me to meet her parents? She told me I have to buy a pretty shirt and black slacks so I can go to church and dinner with her family. It's a nightmare."
Oh, yeah. While Jimmy knew that today was the last day to ask Dean to the dance, he also knew that Dean already had a girlfriend: Amanda Heckerling. She was the picture-perfect girlfriend; she got good grades, never got into trouble, and was still able to "mess around in bed", as classmates put it, without stepping too far out of line. She and Dean had been dating for about a month, and would be going to the Junior Valentine's Dance together.
"Well, she's right about school," Jimmy remarked, giving a weak attempt at encouragement. "I don't think Sam would be very happy if you didn't do well." Jimmy knew that Sam was the only motivation to get Dean through tough spots in his life. He also knew that it was the opposite for Dean's father. According to Sam, he was an alcoholic and had violent tendencies ever since his wife, Dean's mother, died in a fire. He overheard this on one of the many occasions Sam came over to 'hang out' with Gabriel.
"Whatever," Dean said. "Sammy can go screw himself and his perfect study habits."
Jimmy smiled slightly and looked back to his paper.
"Why are you doing things you don't want to for her?" he mumbled almost inaudibly. "There are a few other people who like you and wouldn't care if you-" the bell cut him off.
"What'd you say?" Dean asked, sliding his textbook into his bag.
"Never mind," Jimmy flushed and gathered his textbook, glad that theology was his last class of the day. "Bye."
"Um, okay," Dean said as Jimmy burst out the door. He raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised at the hurry he was in, and shrugged.
Jimmy struggled to make his way through the sea of students in the hall and get to his locker. As quickly as he could, he threw his backpack together, shrugged on his tan trench coat, and went through the torrent of teenagers before stepping out the school doors.
A cold breeze slapped his face and whipped his coat back. Jimmy took a deep breath of the clean winter air. He tightened his coat around himself. On any other day he would be teased for wearing it, but not today. Today everyone stared enviously at the warm jacket.
A flurry of snowflakes floated from the sky, settling into and littering his dark brown hair. Jimmy had always liked snow – he enjoyed comparing the flakes to people, each as unique and diverse as the last until they found themselves all huddled as one. His feet crunched through the thin blanket on the ground. He sighed, watching his breath condense and float into the sky. It was one of those days when just watching your breath dissipate into the air was relaxing.
"What're you thinking about?" a voice asked beside him. Jimmy snapped back to reality to see his brother Gabriel trotting alongside him, simpering slyly and walking with a spring in his step. He was a senior; the youngest of four brothers if you didn't count Jimmy, who was adopted from foster care. Raphael, 22, was in college. Luke, 26, didn't go to college but instead threw away his scholarship when his father left the family on his high school graduation day. Michael, 29, was a lawyer and the head of the family ever since his father left. Their mother died in childbirth when Gabriel was born.
"Nothing, I'm just watching the snow," Jimmy said.
"You're interested in the weirdest things."
"I don't think so. Some of the things I like are very nice," he muttered. Gabriel grinned delightedly.
"Are we talking about Dean here?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and sweeping a lock of caramel brown hair behind his ear. Jimmy stopped in his tracks.
"What?" he laughed nervously, a dead giveaway considering the fact that he never really laughed. "What are you talking about?" Gabriel rolled his eyes.
"Did you ask him to the dance yet?" he asked.
"H-How did you know I..?" Jimmy's cheeks were dusted pink.
"Really?" Gabriel laughed. "Come on, Jim, it was obvious. You really think I don't notice the way you stare at him whenever he comes over with Sammy? You're basically undressing him with your eyes."
"What? No, I don't do that." Jimmy insisted, a blush creeping onto his face. "There's a difference between looking at someone politely and... what you just said."
"Not when you're looking at them for that long," Gabriel sang, turning to face Jimmy. He gave a tug on his sleeve. "Now hurry up. How weird would it be if Sammy got to the house before we did?"
Jimmy nodded reluctantly and kept walking, the blush not quite gone. Sam had been visiting Gabriel every night for the past few months now. He was a sophomore. The first few times Sam came over, Dean would be the one to bring him. Jimmy had already been admiring him from afar at school, but when he appeared at his house, wrapped in a leather jacket and with an arm around his brother...
Well, Jimmy couldn't really help it anymore. He blushed whenever Dean talked to him, or smiled, or even walked close by. Jimmy was always too shy to invite Dean over himself. That was probably when Gabriel noticed how he felt and asked if they would both come. Once Dean started dating Amanda, things started changing. The only times he came were to drop Sam off. And that rarely happened anymore, especially since Sam started arguing with him for being too protective.
Jimmy sighed now and looked at the ground, weighed down by a heavy sense of depression. Dean had a girlfriend. He had a brother. There was no reason for Dean to want him. Jimmy could faintly hear Gabriel chatting beside him, but didn't listen. Jimmy barely realized it when they got to the house. He walked in, went straight upstairs, and shut himself in his room. Shrugging his backpack and trench coat off, he stared out the window. He just didn't understand why Dean wanted to go to the dance with Amanda when she kept demanding things the strangest things from him.
Suddenly, he heard his phone buzzing from his trench coat pocket. Jimmy sighed (he had been doing that a lot recently) and got up to answer the phone. Normally he wouldn't. He was almost out of minutes. But when he saw the caller ID – Sam Winchester – he knew it was important. Sam never called him. Jimmy pressed 'accept'.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Jimmy!" Sam said, a little loudly. "Look, I, uh, I can't come over right now. Gabriel didn't pick up the phone." Jimmy heard muffled yells in the background. The first one he heard was Dean, but he could barely hear the other one.
"What's wrong with Dean?" Jimmy asked, eyebrows pulling together worriedly. Dean yelled a lot; he had a naturally loud voice (and deep, and sultry, but that wasn't the point). Jimmy knew the difference between sounding annoyed and sounding truly angry, and in this case it was the latter. "What's happening?" He knew he sounded worried, but that didn't matter. He had his coat back on before he even realized his intention of leaving. "Is he fighting with your father again? I thought you said that never happened anymore."
"No, it's Amanda," Sam said. "I have to go."
"I'm coming over," Jimmy said into the phone. At the same time, he heard Dean shout loudly: 'I'm a hero! I don't need you!'
"Dean, stop it!" Sam yelled. Then he hung up.
Jimmy wasn't sure if Sam heard him or not, but that wouldn't stop him from going anyway. He slipped his phone into his pocket and opened the front door.
"I'm going out," Jimmy called to Luke, who was sitting on the couch in the next room over, reading.
"What is it now, little brother?" Luke asked, voice tinged with amusement.
"Tell Gabriel that Sam isn't coming over," Jimmy said, "and not to follow me." Luke nodded slowly, blue eyes sparkling. He knew when he should and shouldn't intervene.
Jimmy stepped outside and slammed the door behind him. Dean and Sam's house was only a few blocks away, but he would still run; he knew how much a situation could worsen in a matter of minutes. The frigid wind stung his face and eyes, but Jimmy didn't really care. He slipped once on ice, but got back up and kept running. When he found himself facing the flimsy door of Dean's apartment, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go in anymore. What if Dean still liked Amanda? What if Dean didn't actually like him? What if Dean never would like him in the way Jimmy did? What if, what if, what if?
That's when it dawned on him; it didn't really matter. That is, it didn't matter if Dean didn't like him or did. What mattered was whether or not Jimmy was there to help him through this. He put his hand on the doorknob, knocked three times, and walked in. The house was quiet. It shouldn't be so quiet during a fight.
"Dean? Sam?" Jimmy called. He had been over once or twice when Gabriel invited him along, but only in the living room. No one was there now. There was, however, a flight of stairs directly ahead of him. He put his hand on the railing and took a deep breath. "I'm coming upstairs." He wasn't sure if anyone was even in the house. It had taken maybe five minutes for Jimmy to run here; a lot could happen in five minutes. A break-up. An apology. A declaration of true love.
Jimmy hated to hope for the first one. Reluctantly, he headed up the stairs. There were three doors at the top, all closed. He could hear snoring from the one in front of him. Probably Dean and Sam's father, the alcoholic. From the door to the left, he could hear Sam talking in hushed tones on the phone. Gabriel was on the other end. Jimmy could hear him: 'You okay, Sammy?' And through the door to the right, muffled rock music was playing. That room could only belong to one person.
He tapped gingerly on the door. "Dean?" he whispered. No one replied. Jimmy opened the door just a crack, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. He saw Dean sitting at a wooden desk, headphones covering his ears. His usual leather jacket was thrown on the ground carelessly. Dean himself wore a tight gray t-shirt, showing off his toned and muscular body. That wasn't what Jimmy noticed.
What he saw was the dark blue and purple bruises scattered up and down his arms. They weren't the sort of bruises you got when you were on the football team, or wrestled, or were a bit clumsy. Those were the type of bruises you got when you were beaten badly and on a regular basis. Jimmy would know.
"Dean?" he gasped, forgetting that he wasn't really supposed to be there. Dean stood up, knocking the wooden chair over and sliding his headphones off.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" he shouted. Rimmed with red and slightly swollen, his eyes were shooting daggers. Jimmy shrunk back.
"Sam called me, I heard you yelling... I thought you might want some help, or some company... What happened?" he said this all very quickly.
Dean stared at him, normal playful eyes burning into Jimmy's with a fire he never knew was there.
"You shouldn't be here." he grunted. Jimmy bit his lip. His eyes stung, and he knew he would start crying soon if he didn't get out of there.
"I'm sorry," Jimmy said. He put a hand on the door and ducked his head, turning to leave. "I'll go away. I'm sorry."
"No, wait, Jimmy," Dean placed a hand to his forehead. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, okay? You shouldn't be here." Jimmy turned back hesitantly. His mouth felt impossibly dry and he was dizzy.
"What do you mean?"
"Damn, you'll be the second person..." Dean took a deep breath and put a hand to his mouth. Jimmy didn't want to ask what he meant by 'second person'. There was a fine line between Dean's sadness and anger, and Jimmy was painfully close to crossing it.
"Are you okay?" Jimmy asked quietly, eyes flashing down to Dean's arms, stained black and blue. Dean shook his head, hissing through his teeth. He turned around to the chair on the floor.
"Don't overreact when I say this," Dean said, voice flat and emotionless. Jimmy nodded once, completely serious. He didn't want to make Dean uncomfortable. "My dad beats Sammy, okay?" he said. "Every single night. It's not a one-time thing."
"What?" Jimmy croaked. A lump formed in his throat.
"I try to stop him sometimes, because he's my brother, you know? When I do I get beat real bad too. It doesn't really matter, though," Dean laughed weakly. "As long as Sammy's not hurt, right?" Jimmy was horrified.
"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?" he asked, voice small. Dean gave another small laugh and looked at Jimmy. "Of course it matters!"
"You too, huh?" he asked, emerald eyes glancing up to meet Jimmy's. Suddenly, they changed from sad and pitiful to blazing and angry. "Every night, I keep my brother from being hurt and all you can think to say is 'Hey, you shouldn't do that, why do you do that?'" Dean's voiced grew louder and louder with each word. "What the hell, man? Look, I don't care if I get the crap beaten out of me!"
"What?" Jimmy's eyebrows turned up in an expression of pain and confusion.
"I don't care if I get hurt, and I don't care if you think I should stop protecting my brother. I'm going to keep it up, even if you think I shouldn't! I'm just doing my damn job!" That was the line Jimmy was treading. It had just faded.
"Dean, I-"
"Shut up! You're just like Amanda! So if you want to leave, if you want to 'teach me a lesson' like she did, go right ahead! It's not a bad thing to protect my brother, Jimmy!"
"I never-"
"Why is it that everyone leaves me?!" he screamed suddenly, kicking the chair. It smashed against his closet door and fell onto the ground in pieces. A heavy silence replaced the screaming. A silence so awkward and horrible that Jimmy's stomach twisted. Jimmy stepped up to Dean and touched his shoulder.
"I'm not leaving you," he whispered. "I'm not Amanda. I would never leave you." Dean took a shaky breath.
"Amanda said that, too. And where is she now?" Dean asked. His eyes were shining and it was obvious that tears were about to spill over. Jimmy bit his lip nervously.
Should I...? he thought. And then he thought it didn't matter. Jimmy wrapped his arms around the taller, green-eyed boy. He could feel Dean twitch at the touch before he accepted it, returning the hug with trembling fingers.
Dean was shaking, and probably crying going by the wet stains that soaked through Jimmy's shirt collar. Jimmy didn't do anything but reach up to pat his back awkwardly.
"You're just protecting your brother. That's all. No decent person would keep you from doing that." Jimmy said. He felt Dean nod. For a few moments, they did nothing but stand. No words were exchanged and none were needed. Dean pulled away and gave Jimmy a pained smile. He wiped his face.
"I guess Amanda just wasn't decent," he said, voice cracking.
"She wasn't." Jimmy said. "She was horrible. You shouldn't have to do things you hate for someone. You shouldn't have to stop doing things for others you love."
Dean nodded. His eyes were still red. "What a bitch. I can't believe I was with her for two months." Jimmy smiled nervously, sapphire eyes meeting Dean's emerald ones.
"Someone who loves you pushes you to be brave. To protect others. All while keeping you out of harm's way. They wouldn't tell you to stop protecting your brother, but they wouldn't want you to get hurt." Dean tipped his head to the side at Jimmy's words.
"Yeah."
"They'd do something like this," Jimmy said. He took Dean's hands in his and leaned upwards slowly, waiting to see how Dean would react. Dean blinked, eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Jimmy?" he said. "What are you...?" Jimmy took a deep breath, eyes averting. Of course. Dean didn't love him in that way. Dean was, and would always be, nothing more than a friend.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is-"
Dean smiled softly, then leaned down himself, pressing his lips against Jimmy's. Jimmy gasped quietly. Dean tasted of cherries and smelled of something like wood or earth. Jimmy inhaled sharply when Dean's tongue ran over his lips. That's when Jimmy abandoned all care and melted into the kiss. He let go of Dean's hands, instead moving them up to touch his cheek delicately, and Dean laced his fingers through Jimmy's thick black hair. Dean's eyelashes fluttered as he began to kiss more passionately, pulling the shorter boy closer to him.
Both boys pulled away for air at the same time. Jimmy was grinning from ear to ear, blue eyes crackling, reflecting the fire in Dean's that was no longer angry, but instead joyous. He hadn't smiled like that in God knows how long. Maybe he never had. But watching Dean stare at him, holding his hands and feeling the lingering tingle and taste of Dean's lips, Jimmy flushed and began to sputter.
"I-" he said, not even knowing what he wanted to say. He just felt so giddy, like he had eaten 10 candy bars and gulped a cup of coffee. He had never felt such a rush of adrenaline (no wonder Gabriel was always like he was).
"Jimmy?"
"What?" he asked, knowing that his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.
"Wanna go to the dance together?"
Jimmy nodded frantically, starting to feel dizzy as heat rushed to his cheeks.
"Dean?" a knock sounded at the door. "Jimmy?"
"Come in," Jimmy croaked without thinking about it (it was reflex – he always let his brothers in when they asked).
"Dude!" Dean hissed as the door opened. Now he was pink-faced, and was rushing to get out of the tangle of limbs they were in. Jimmy could still do nothing but preheat at 350° F. Dean wasn't quick enough. Sam stood at the door, chuckling.
"So I guess you're over Amanda?" Sam remarked. Dean shrugged.
"What do you want?" Dean asked.
"And how did you know I was here?" Jimmy said, finally starting to cool down a little.
"Gabriel called. Well, that and you were being a little loud," Sam said, addressing Dean. His eyes flicked down to the broken chair. "Gabriel asked us all to come over." Dean smiled and looked to Jimmy.
"Yeah, let's go," he said. Dean picked up his leather jacket and shrugged it on. He took Jimmy's hand, and the three of them walked to Jimmy's house.
Once there, Gabriel opened the door for them. He pulled Sam into the living room and they both plopped down onto the couch.
"What's on?" Sam asked.
"Gilmore Girls," Gabriel replied. "You know what's weird? That guy," he pointed at the TV, "is named Dean and he looks exactly like you.
"Really? I don't think so. The hair's too different." Sam pointed out. Gabriel laughed and flicked at one of Sam's long strands of brown hair.
Dean looked around. "Man, it's been a while since I was here," he remarked. Luke sidled downstairs, taking a long look at Dean. It was obvious when he was out to tease Jimmy; he would simper and his eyebrows would turn up amusedly.
"Yeah," Luke said. "Jimmy's been so sad since you stopped coming over. You should hear him crying alone in his room. Heartbreaking."
"Then it's a good thing I came," Dean said, squeezing Jimmy's hand reassuringly. Jimmy blushed again when Luke smiled brightly.
"Well, that's not the horrified reaction that usually follows," he said, clapping his hands dramatically.
"We're going to the dance together tomorrow," Jimmy told him timidly.
"Aw," Luke cooed. "How cute. It's about time you got together." Luke tousled the hair of them both before turning around to go back upstairs.
"Wait!" Jimmy called. Luke turned, eyebrows raised.
"What?"
"Um... Dean and Sam. They're going to spend the night," Jimmy said. Then he blinked, surprised at his own words.
"We are?" Dean and Sam asked in unison. Gabriel was beaming.
"Sammy is sleeping in my room," he decided. "And no, Jimmy. We're not having a four-way." Sam wrinkled his nose and pushed Gabriel back on the couch.
"You're gross," he said, smiling to let Gabriel know he didn't really mean it.
"Sure," Luke shrugged. "Just remember to tell Michael when he gets home. I'm not talking to him." Jimmy nodded.
"Can I see your room?" Dean asked. "I don't think I ever have." Jimmy nodded and led him upstairs. He turned on the light – it was already dark outside because of the short winter days. The room was rather plain, with one small bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and a dresser. It didn't even have a closet.
"Um," Jimmy said, "everyone's room is small because everyone has their own. And with 5 people living here, it gets crowded..."
"You think I care about the size of your room? It's fine. Why did you want Sammy and me to spend the night?" Dean asked.
"Like I said, a person who loves you wouldn't tell you to stop protecting your brother, but they wouldn't want you to get hurt, either," Jimmy muttered. Dean smiled and ruffled his fingers through his hair.
"I know it's early, but I'm really tired," Dean admitted, yawning. "Can we go to bed?"
Jimmy nodded sheepishly, blushing at his own thoughts when Dean asked about going to bed. He had to stop thinking that way.
"Take the bed," Jimmy said. "I can sleep on the floor. You've been through enough today." Dean laughed.
"Whatever, okay," he said. He pulled off his leather jacket and threw it across the room. Dean stretched his shoulders, cracking his back and neck. Jimmy watch, mesmerized, at the muscles moving under his shirt. Dean threw himself onto the far edge of the bed. Jimmy took his own coat off and bundled it up. He lowered to the floor, resting his head on the coat like a pillow. The floor was cold and hard, but he didn't really mind. Jimmy was just happy.
"Goodnight, Dean," he said, smiling up at Dean's form on the bed and closing his eyes. Dean chuckled and reached down, hooking his arm around Jimmy's.
"Jeez, I thought you were kidding," he laughed. "There's enough room for both of us." Despite the bruises, Dean pulled Jimmy into the bed with one fluid motion.
"Oh," Jimmy said, blushing. "Goodnight, then."
"Do you have a fever?" Dean asked, pressing a hand to Jimmy's forehead.
"No," Jimmy said, even more flustered now. His heart was beating so hard that he was surprised Dean didn't ask if he was having a heart attack. "I'm just a little warm. Nothing to be worried about."
"Good. You better not get sick on me tomorrow."
Jimmy shook his head.
"Goodnight," Dean said. He closed his eyes and almost immediately dozed off. Jimmy, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at Dean. Had all this really happened today? Not that long ago, they were sitting in theology class. In class, Jimmy had to make sure Dean never noticed just how lingering his look was. Now, they were laying in bed together, had kissed, and were going to the dance the next day. Jimmy laid restlessly, counting Dean's freckles much like the stars on a warm summer's night; he tried for hours, losing count and having to start over, before realizing that it was probably impossible and just succumbing to sleep.
That night, when Gabriel and Sam went into the room for a little midnight pranking (on Gabriel's demand), they had to leave. Disturbing such a sweet and peaceful sleep was a crime, even to the senior class trickster.
Jimmy woke to a crack of sunlight through the curtains. His dark, unruly hair was fluffy and his eyes were jaded. He yawned, turning to face Dean in the bed. No one was there.
"Dean?" Jimmy called, sitting up. All traces of sleep were gone. "Where are you?" He glanced around the room, but Dean wasn't in it. For a horrible moment, Jimmy thought it was a dream. Just some dream formed by his own cruel mind. When his eyes met the crumpled leather jacket on the floor, he sighed in relief. Just as he did, the door swung open. Dean stood in the doorway.
"Hey," Dean said.
"Good morning." Jimmy replied. "Where were you?"
"Just checking on Sammy. He and Gabriel are passed out in his room. They were still wearing clothes, so that's a promising sign," Dean said. Jimmy cracked a smile.
"They'll be tired when it's time to go to school," he said. "What time is it, anyway?" Jimmy glanced at the alarm clock on his dresser, but the screen was blank. "Dean?" he asked.
"Yeah?"
"Why'd you unplug my alarm?" He tried to act angry. School really was important to him. But when it came to Dean, he couldn't really be angry at all.
"Because it's Valentine's Day and it's Friday and we just started dating and we have to spend the day planning festive activities, eating chocolate, and maybe having a little fun at night," Dean replied. A blush crept onto Jimmy's face.
"R-Really? That doesn't sound like you..." he stuttered.
"You're right. Those were Luke's words. Michael left early for work today and Luke said that skipping school only made sense."
Jimmy shook his head. "I'm sorry about my brother."
"Don't worry about it. I mean, we could go out and have some fun. It definitely sounds better than school." Dean said.
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know. We can just drive around," Dean shrugged. "I can get my car. Anywhere you want to go?"
"Really?" Jimmy stood up, eyes sparkling. "Yes. There is somewhere I would like to go." Dean smiled. He had never seen Jimmy look so excited. That, paired with his unkempt hair, made it almost impossible for Dean not to be excited, too.
"Okay," he said. "I'll get my car, you get ready. Where do you want to go?" Jimmy rummaged through his dresser, pulling out a button-up blue shirt and jeans.
"The mall. See you soon," Jimmy rushed out of his room and into the bathroom, starting to get ready faster than Dean could even reply. Dean stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure he heard right. Jimmy? To the mall? Did he hear right? Dean blinked when he heard the water start to run in the shower. He had to go get his car.
"Why do you want to go to the mall?" Luke scoffed up at Jimmy. He was sitting on the couch, watching a show called Supernatural. It was just like him to watch such a gruesome, bloody show. Jimmy, on the other hand, was picture-perfect. His clothes were neat, the top buttons undone (on Luke's demand), and his hair was swept up.
"Everyone at school is always talking about it," Jimmy said. "I want to see if it's really that great."
"Whatever," Luke said. "Can you just get me a sappy Valentine gift? I want to give it to Mike and see how he reacts." Jimmy nodded, starting to head out the door. He had his trench coat on. His hair was still damp, and it froze a little when he went into the cold, but it didn't really bother him. Dean was waiting in the driveway with his car, a 1967 Chevy Impala. It was his pride and joy.
Jimmy got into the front seat. The car was warm, and rock music blasted from the speakers. Jimmy stepped in and Dean turned it down just enough to yell over the music.
"Are we gonna get manicures?" Dean asked.
"Why would you want a manicure?" Jimmy asked, squinting strangely at him. Dean laughed and began to back out of the driveway.
"You're so clueless," he chuckled. "It's adorable."
"I still don't understand."
"Just forget it," Dean said. "So why do you want to go to the mall?"
"I wanted to see if it was really as fun as everyone at school said it was. I want to go to every store," Jimmy said. Dean smiled.
"Are you going to buy any Valentine's chocolates?" he asked.
"Maybe. Or a bouquet, or a teddy bear. Luke wants me to pick up gifts for Michael." Jimmy said.
"Really?" Dean asked. "We should make him a gift basket. I'd like to see the look on his face when Luke gives it to him." Dean had only met Michael a few times, but the Michael he knew was extremely strict and uptight.
"Okay," Jimmy agreed. He didn't really understand why everyone wanted to give Michael gifts. Michael wasn't the nicest guy, and didn't deserve them. But if Dean and Luke wanted to, he would. Doing anything with Dean made him dizzy and fluttery, as if he was sleepy and excited at the same time. It was a good feeling.
When they pulled into the parking lot, there weren't many cars. Everyone was probably off doing something with their beloved, or alone at home, or at school. Dean and Jimmy got out of the car, slamming the doors shut in unison behind them.
"I don't really come here often, but this is the mall," Dean said, walking up with Jimmy beside him. When they walked in, there was a food court. Jimmy could smell burgers coming from one of the restaurants and his mouth started to water. "Where do you want to go first?"
"Wherever," Jimmy said. "Any store. What ones do you like?"
"I don't go shopping that often," Dean said with a laugh. "But I guess if I had to choose, there's this one that I really like called Hot Topic. Some of the stuff they have is a little weird, but they do have band shirts and albums and stuff like that."
Dean started to lead the way, but it was a little hard. With every store they passed, Jimmy got sidetracked. He was so cute when he was interested in the stores that Dean just couldn't say no to going in.
They ended up going to Claire's first, a store dedicated to selling easily broken jewelery and colorful tutus to little girls. Jimmy roamed the store, stopping to stare at a rack dedicated to a singer.
"Who's 'Justin Bieber'?" Jimmy asked, picking up a notebook with 'BELIEBER' scrawled on the top.
"Probably the biggest douche on the planet. How can you not know who he is?" Jimmy shrugged at Dean's question. A little girl, maybe around 10, walked up to Jimmy and tapped him nervously on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, mister?" she said. Jimmy looked at her and smiled.
"What is it?" he asked, kneeling down to meet her eyes.
"That's the last Justin Bieber notebook," she said shyly. "Are you going to buy it?"
"No," Jimmy said, putting it back. "I've been informed that he's a 'douche'."
"What does that mean?" the little girl asked. Her blonde braids swung over her shoulders as she tipped her head in confusion.
"I don't know, but I don't think it's good," Jimmy said. "Maybe you should buy this instead," Jimmy glanced around the store, trying to find something that would better suit the little girl. He found a sparkly silver tiara made of actual metal, although he doubted its authenticity. Silver was rare, and more expensive than 16.99 USD. The pink gems looked plastic. "Try this on." He handed the girl the tiara. She placed it delicately on her head.
"How does it look?" she asked.
"I think it makes you look like a princess," Jimmy said. He smiled, blue eyes crinkling sweetly at the corners. The little girl beamed up at him and gave him a hug. She ran to her mother, who had been talking on the phone during this exchange. Jimmy stood up and faced Dean. "We can go to a different store now," he said. "I wonder why she wasn't at school?"
"Dude, are you real life?" Dean asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I think so. Why?"
"Nothing. What you did was just pretty awesome."
"I didn't want her to buy a notebook with a douche on it," Jimmy explained with a shrug. "Do you see anything here that we could buy for Michael? I wanted to get that tiara, but I think the little girl deserves it more than him."
"Yeah," Dean picked up a diary with a fuzzy border that read 'Hugs & Kisses'. It had a picture of a dog and a cat on the cover. "It'll be the perfect place to write about his true feelings."
"I also saw an assortment of heart-shaped necklaces. Should we get one?" Jimmy asked.
"Totally. Pick out your favorite."
Jimmy ended up picking a sparkly white heart necklace with shiny black angel wings coming out of the sides. They got strange looks from the cashier, but were ultimately delighted to get Michael such perfect presents.
"I didn't know you had a credit card," Jimmy said on their way out.
"I don't. I stole this from my dad," Dean said. "He deserves it. If he can't pay for my own hospital treatment, then he better pay for Michael's gift basket."
"Wait," Jimmy said, holding out a hand to stop Dean. "What? Hospital treatment?" Dean averted his eyes.
"Oh, um, it's nothing," Dean said. "A few years ago, Dad broke my arm and didn't take me to the hospital. Eventually, my middle school English teacher found out and told the principal and nurse. They forced my dad to take me to the hospital, but even after I got my cast and stuff he didn't pay. We were in some deep crap with the debt until I got enough money from doing jobs around the neighborhood to pay for it. Still not sure how I managed to do it," Dean said, shaking his head.
"That's horrible!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I could've helped."
"Well, first of all, because you didn't live here until last summer and I broke my arm in middle school. Second, because I didn't know how great you were when I had Amanda clinging to me 24/7." Dean explained. Jimmy smiled. He really did feel a lot different since everything last night. As if a shield of stoicism had cracked, letting through a softer, happier version of himself. And it was great.
"What's this place?" Jimmy asked, stopping to stare at a store called Bath & Body Works. A strong smell of sugar, cherries, peppermint, oranges, cinnamon, and so many other things mingled together and hung around the entrance. A smokescreen to enter a new, more dangerous world.
"It sells lotions, perfumes, soaps, and basically anything else that you can add smell too. Wanna go in? I bet we'll find some pretty awesome Valentine's gifts for Michael."
Jimmy nodded and walked in. Cheery employees walked around, offering pleasant smiles to the two.
"Hi! Are you here to shop for a special someone?" One of them asked. Her nametag said 'Maura' and her smile said 'Psychopath'. "Our special Valentine's sale can help you sniff out the best scents for anyone!"
"Thank you," Jimmy said, subdued. He was glancing around the store at all of the bottled products, candles, and nightlights.
"We're just browsing," Dean told her. She flashed another slightly maniacal grin and left them to look around.
"Dean, what does 'Forever Red' smell like? It's listed as a Valentine's Day special."
"I don't know, you'll have to try it out," Dean said as he was looking around, cringing at some of the names (Dancing Waters? Sensual Amber? Island Nectar?). Jimmy picked up the bottle and sprayed Dean 3 times: once on the back of his head, once on his back, and once behind his knees.
Dean spun around, coughing in the cloud of mist.
"What was that for?" he cried.
"I had to spray you multiple times to get the full effect," Jimmy shrugged. He leaned close to Dean's shoulder and sniffed. "You smell like a passionate blend of pomegranate and red osmanthus with a sexy surprise of vanilla rum."
"What?" Dean asked, pulling his eyebrows together. He sniffed the air a few times. "Is that what the smell is?"
"That's the description on the label," Jimmy said. "You really do smell like a passionate blend of pomegranate and red osmanthus with a sexy surprise of vanilla rum."
"Why red?" Dean asked, frowning at the label. "Couldn't I smell like any other color of osmunthees?"
"It's os-man-thus." Jimmy told him. "And I have no idea."
"Man, now I smell like a 13 year old on her first date," Dean groaned. "Why did you have to spray me? Couldn't you spray yourself?"
"I didn't want to," Jimmy grinned. "Smelling like a 13 year old on her first date isn't at the top of my to-do list."
"Oh, you asked for it," Dean said, grabbing "Sensual Amber" and "Paris Amour" off of the shelf. He began furiously spraying Jimmy with the fragrance. Jimmy squeaked and covered his mouth. He swiped "Pink Chiffon" from the display table and retaliated. Not before long, a cloud of pomegranate & red osmanthus with a sexy surprise of vanilla rum hung over their feet along with the other three perfumes.
"Stop it!" Jimmy yelled, laughing and choking on the overpowering scent.
"You started it!" Dean shouted, continuing to spray Paris Amour and Sensual Amber. He liked them because the spray was glittery, and left Jimmy covered head-to-toe in sparkles.
"Hey! Hey!" Maura the employee screeched, trying to break up the fragrance fight. "Stop it! Those aren't the sample bottles!" It took a while for them to listen, and even longer for their giggles to die down, but Maura forced them to pay and buy all four of the perfumes, muttering something about 'public decency' before kicking them out of the store.
Jimmy and Dean laughed and laughed, collapsing on one of the benches outside the store.
"Oh my God!" Dean cried, rubbing at his eyes. "Did you- did you hear her?" Jimmy took a while to reply, waiting until he could stop giggling and breathe.
"Not over the passionate blend of pomegranate & red osmanthus with a sexy surprise of vanilla rum," Jimmy said gruffly. Then he burst into laughter again.
"Stop it, seriously," Dean said, pushing Jimmy playfully. They both smelled horrible. The few people that passed by plugged their noses and gave them odd looks, but the two of them ignored it. There was probably nothing romantic in smelling so strongly of perfume or in Jimmy looking like a walking disco ball, but it worked for them. "Where do you want to go next?" Dean asked.
"Somewhere fun," Jimmy replied, smile glued to his face. "Someplace with lots of things to look at."
"Hold on, I know the perfect place," Dean said. He jumped up from the bench and walked hurriedly down the strip of stores.
"Where are we going?" Jimmy asked, rushing to keep up. Dean had a long stride.
"Here!" Dean stopped in front of a store and motioned with his hands dramatically. A fast, generic pop song played through speakers in the display windows.
"Toyland?" Jimmy said. "It's not a very original name, is it?"
"No, but that shouldn't matter. I remember coming here a few times when I was really little, back when my mom was alive. We didn't have much money, because Sammy was just born when we came. But there was this one thing I got... Damn, it was awesome."
"What's that?" Jimmy asked, amused by the idea of a short, cute, toddler-Dean running around excitedly, probably showing his brother what was what and asking his mother if he could get everything.
"Hold on, I want to see if they still have it," Dean said. He grabbed Jimmy's hand and pulled him into the store. Jimmy immediately pulled himself out of Dean's grip and stopped in the middle of the store. "What's wrong?" Dean asked, upset at Jimmy's sudden change of heart.
"Dean, it's just..." Jimmy shook his head, looking over Dean's shoulder. Concern creased between his brows. "I don't understand how the monkeys can dance perfectly to the rhythm of this song." Dean pressed his lips together and turned around to see toy monkeys on a shelf near the counter that responded to the music playing in the store: they bobbed their heads and moved their arms in a, to be frank, sort of satanic dance.
"You're such a geek," Dean chuckled. "Go look at the monkeys. I'll call you over when I find what I'm looking for, okay?" Jimmy nodded in a daze, still observing the monkeys.
"Excuse me," he said, turning to the cashier in the desk nearby, "but how exactly do those monkeys work?"
"They sense the music and use the magic of your imagination to dance along," the cashier droned. He played a game on his iPhone, barely listening.
"That doesn't sound very believable."
"It's just what they have me tell the kids, okay?" the cashier said, placing his phone on the desk and eying Jimmy grumpily.
"Jimmy!" Dean shouted from the other side of the store, behind a few shelves. Jimmy squinted accusingly at the cashier, backing up before finally turning and going to meet Dean. "Look, these were all my favorite toys as a kid – and they're all in one spot!" Dean's eyes twinkled and he lifted each individual toy up to show Jimmy. "This is a giant rainbow slinky," he said, throwing one end of the slinky at Jimmy. Jimmy tried to catch it, but instead let it tangle over his hands ungracefully. "The one I had when I was little got too messed up to use anymore."
"Does it get easily messed up?" Jimmy asked, trying to untangle his hands, but only succeeding in twisting it around his wrists. He held his hands out to Dean, who gladly helped him out of the mess.
"Not that easily," he said. "What did you do, man?" When Jimmy was free of the slinky, he waited in anticipation for the next toy. "Army men!" Dean tossed a plastic bag of 100 tan and green army men to him. Jimmy lifted the package up, examining them.
"They're very detailed for plastic toys," he remarked. "The gun on this one even has a trigger."
"That's one of the reasons why I liked them so much." Dean took the bag back and smiled at it nostalgically.
"We have to buy them," Jimmy said firmly.
"Really? You sure?" Dean asked. He tried to look as if he was making an adult-like decision, but Jimmy could see the hope that shone in his eyes.
"Yes. And you shouldn't be asking me. This is your dad's money. It's the cashier you should be asking."
"Wait, we need to get something for Michael!" Dean exclaimed. He scanned the shelves for the first girly toy he saw, and pulled down a Sapphire Princess Barbie. They went to the cashier, dropped the toys, and waited. The cashier frowned at the slinky, army men, and Barbie doll.
"Is this everything you'd like?" the cashier asked cynically.
"No, I think I'd also like a better attitude out of you," Dean said, glancing at the name tag, "Dirk." The cashier, Dirk, sneered at them.
"I'm sorry, we don't have that in stock," Dirk said. "May I get you anything else?"
"I've got this," Jimmy said, looking to Dean reassuringly. He tipped his head menacingly and placed his hands on the low desk, leaning down to look at the cashier with blue eyes much more cold than usual. "I'd like you to tell me how those monkeys work. For real," he whispered. Dean nodded and gave a forced smile.
"Jimmy, go wait outside. I'd like to have a word with Dirk here," he cracked his knuckles.
"Are you sure about this?" Jimmy mumbled nervously.
"Go," Dean said, louder this time. He gave Jimmy a burning glare until he left the store and sat on the bench outside. He waited maybe five minutes for Dean, who came out with two bags.
"What did you do to him?" Jimmy asked, standing up.
"To him? Nothing," Dean said. "He probably thinks I'm stupid for not beating him up. But I did take his phone." Dean pulled the iPhone out of his pocket discreetly. He took a look at the screen. "God, he was playing Flappy Bird? He needs to rethink his life choices."
"You're stealing, Dean? I'm not sure that's the best idea," Jimmy told him.
"No, of course not!" Dean said. "I'm not stealing. I'm just taking it by accident and returning it to this potted plant right here." He dropped the phone into a fake plant beside the bench and covered it up with the plastic leaves. "Dirk deserved it." Jimmy nodded. He hated to agree, but Dirk was a real jerk. "Oh, and I got this for you!" Dean dropped one of the bags and rummaged through it, pulling out one of the dancing monkey. Jimmy grinned foolishly and reached out for the box.
"Thank you, Dean," he said, taking it in his hands. He had never been so happy about something so stupid. It was just a dancing monkey, but he knew it would look great in his plain room.
"No problem. It's my dad's money, remember?"
"I should be thanking Dirk," Jimmy smiled and hugged the box protectively. "One more store?"
"Really? Where?" Dean asked.
"Hot Topic. You said you wanted to go there, so we'll go."
"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Dean said.
"But I do want to. I want to see the store you like," Jimmy said. Dean couldn't help but think how absolutely adorable he was. His smile was small and shy, but his eyes were bright and excited. His hair was slightly messed up from getting ready so quickly in the morning, and he rested his chin on the dancing monkey box. Dean gulped.
"Let's go," he said.
The lighting was dim and the punk rock music in the background was loud. Different sections of the store were dedicated to different things; Disney movies, TV shows, clothing, jewelery, perfume, buttons, and a lot more. When the couple walked into the store, Dean headed to the back right section of the store. He obviously knew what he was doing.
"This is Hot Topic," Dean said.
"It's very dark," Jimmy remarked, looking around. "Both literally and figuratively. I like it."
"I didn't think this would be your kind of style," Dean admitted. "To tell the truth, I thought it might scare you a little."
"No, don't be silly," Jimmy said. He looked at the customers. Two girls were picking up t-shirts and doing a little dance on their tiptoes. They looked so happy. "I love it, actually."
"Good," Dean nodded and gestured at the wall they were standing by. "This is the part of the store I like. They have shirts of the bands I like, and sometimes they even have other pretty awesome clothes."
"And these are the albums you like?" Jimmy asked, looking towards a rack of CDs.
"Yeah," Dean said. "I mean, I usually just make my own mixed tapes. But they have a pretty good selection of music." Dean flipped through a box of t-shirts labeled 'half-off'. "Hey, check it out!" He pulled out two matching shirts. They were gray, with ACϟDC written at the top in white. LET THERE BE ROCK was scrawled in bright red letters diagonally across it. "We can both get one."
"We're going to get matching shirts?" Jimmy asked. He put the dancing monkey on the ground and took one of the shirts, lifting it in front of his torso. "I think it will fit."
"We don't have to if you don't want to," Dean said with a shrug. "But I think... It might be cool."
"Let's do it," Jimmy said with a grin. "Can we get more matching clothes?"
"Let's not get too girly," Dean warned jokingly. "What were you thinking of getting?"
"I don't know," Jimmy said. He draped the shirt over his arm and began browsing the store. There were some leather jackets that looked nice, but he preferred Dean in his own – the faded brown one that was just a little too big for him. There were jeans that were shredded from the bottom all the way to the waistband. Absolutely not. He wouldn't be able to face Dean if he wore something so revealing (or as Luke would say, sexy). Finally, he saw something that might look a bit silly, but worked for him. He took them down and went back to jean. "These."
"Studded belts?" Dean chuckled. They were thick and made of heavy leather, with diamond-shaped metal stubs. They clipped together with seat belt buckles.
"Do you like them?" Jimmy asked, a hopeful grin plastered over his face.
"It's not the sort of thing I'd expect you to like," Dean said, "but let's get them." Jimmy immediately began to thread the belt through his jeans and fastened it. Dean could barely keep from laughing; it looked absolutely ridiculous with the rest of his clean, innocent outfit. At the same time, it was so adorably enticing that Dean couldn't help but wrap his hands around Jimmy's waist and pull him in for a short affectionate kiss. "I love it."
"What should we get for Michael here?" Jimmy asked as Dean let him go. Jimmy was pink, but his eyes glittered.
"I know the perfect thing," Dean told him. "Close your eyes." Jimmy covered his eyes with his hands.
"We're just looking for a gift for Michael!" he called. "Why do I have to close my eyes?" Dean didn't reply. All Jimmy heard was the music change to a heavy metal song and customers chattering.
"Open your eyes," Dean whispered right into his ear. Jimmy jumped in surprise, but moved his hands away. Dean was standing behind him. He brought his arms out in front of Jimmy, showing him something that he thought he'd never see Dean hold in his life. A lacy, white bra with a tiny set of black angel wings as a front clasp was dangling in front of his face, along with a matching set of panties.
"Wow, um," Jimmy said. He turned his head to look at Dean behind him and gave him a puzzled look. "Are you sure Michael will appreciate this?"
"C'mon, he'll love it," Dean assured him. "Or at least Luke will love giving it to him."
"Well, that is true," Jimmy admitted. "We should get it."
"Great," Dean said. "Get your dancing monkey and we can go get a bite to eat." Jimmy did as he was told, and when they were finished checking out, they headed back towards the food court.
"I like the mall," Jimmy said. "We should come here more often." Dean nodded and produced a single laugh.
"Hell, I never thought that going to the mall with you would be so fun. I mean, we smell like ass, but it was fun."
"I don't think that ass is the correct term," Jimmy said, arms dangling at his sides.
"Sorry," Dean said. "I meant to say that we smell like a passionate blend of pomegranates and red osmantheeses with a sexy surprise of vanilla rum."
"Actually-"
"Don't you dare correct me, you're lucky I remembered that much!" Dean elbowed him.
"I was just going to ask if we could get burgers." Jimmy told him.
"I'm not the one who chooses what you get," Dean said. "You could get a salad with milkshake spilled all over it and I wouldn't care." Jimmy wrinkled his nose.
"Why would I order that?" he asked, giving Dean a strange look.
"I'm ordering from Steak Escape," Dean said, approaching one of the booths and ignoring Jimmy's question. "I've eaten crap all week, and if I'm going to keep eating that way, it might as well be better crap than McDonald's." His mouth twitched into a smile at his own stupid joke, but Jimmy was more puzzled than amused, and followed him like a lost little boy into line.
"How am I supposed to order?" Jimmy mumbled under his breath, looking nowhere in particular.
"Just tell them what you want to eat, man, I don't know what to tell you."
"Is there anything I should tell them? In order to be polite?"
"Dude, have you ever ordered fast food before?" Dean asked, turning away from the line to look at the dark-haired boy. Jimmy shrugged.
"Luke always cooked for us. His food is surprisingly good, actually," Jimmy said. They reached the front of the line, and Dean began to order.
"I'll just take a bacon cheese burger and a large Coke," he said.
"Would you like fries with that?" the woman behind the counter asked.
"Nah," Dean took a straw, some napkins, and moved over to let Jimmy order.
"Hello," Jimmy said, nodding. "You have beautiful eyes." The woman tipped her head and smiled.
"Thank you. What would you like to order?"
"A cheeseburger," Jimmy said. The woman paused, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't.
"Will that be all, sir?"
"I would also like you to know that it's not your fault that you're stuck in such a dead-end job," Jimmy remarked. He placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward a bit, whispering. "I personally think that this system of work is corrupting our society." The woman blinked a few times, staring confusedly at Jimmy.
"Um," she said. "Would you like anything else with your meal?"
"No, thank you."
"Okay, your order will be up soon."
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome, sir."
"Thank you." Dean finally took Jimmy by the sleeve of his coat and pulled him to the side. "Did I do well?" Jimmy asked as Dean plucked a straw from the nearby container and handed it to him.
"Uh, yeah. You did, buddy," Dean nodded and smiled awkwardly, reaching up to give him a pat on the shoulder. Jimmy beamed up at him. They kept staring at each other, Dean into Jimmy's electric blue eyes and Jimmy into Dean's impossibly green ones, until their food was slid towards them on a tray. They chose a table in the middle of the food court, beneath a skylight, and began eating.
"This is delicious," Jimmy said after one bite. He peeled back the wrapper and continued to eat, eyes closed and face tipped towards the ceiling. Dean ate regularly (or as regularly as it got for him, somehow managing to eat with a manly-stoic flair) and watched Jimmy. With every bite the blue-eyed boy took, his smile spread wider across his face.
"Glad you like it," Dean said, setting down his burger and taking a sip of his coke. To be honest, he was a little uncomfortable. His entire life, he had never gone out with a guy or even thought about it. There was something different about Jimmy. From the first moment Dean met the awkward, monotone-voiced boy, he felt a certain spark that he never had with anyone else. Not even any other girls he met. Around anyone else, Dean felt normal. Strong, smooth, and casual. But with Jimmy, his throat dried up and his face got hot. He felt an impulse to blink too often, and then too little because he was self-conscious about blinking too often. How was it that in the passing of a few hours, he went from Jimmy's friend to his lover? Dean smiled to himself, looking down at the table. He didn't know, but it was the best damned thing to ever happen to him.
"Dean?" Jimmy asked. "What is it?" Dean shook his head and continued smiling. They ate in silence for the rest of the meal, but both smiled to themselves, knowing.
In the Impala, Jimmy was restless. He kept fiddling with the dancing monkey: he set it on his lap, propped it on the dashboard, and lifted it to look in its beady and rather menacing eyes.
"How do you think it dances, Dean? Really?" Jimmy asked, glancing to his left.
"Ask Sammy, he's the geek. I can put on music on and make it dance, though." Jimmy nodded and Dean cranked up the radio. Heavy rock music filled the car and the monkey started to spasm on the dashboard in a way that made it look possessed. Jimmy slammed the radio off, pale-faced and slightly out of tune.
"I changed my mind," he said simply, pulling it back into his lap. Dean chuckled at the sight of Jimmy curled up in the passenger seat with a furry robotic monkey. They pulled back into Jimmy's driveway and got out of the car. Jimmy pulled all of the bags out, refusing to let Dean help him. "It's the least I can do when you offered to take me out," he said, not noticing the way Dean flushed at his words.
"No problem," Dean muttered. He rushed ahead of him to open the door, but hesitated when he saw that the door was already ajar. Dean pushed open the door and stepped through, planning to hold the door for Jimmy, when a bucket of water fell on his head. It wasn't like a cartoon where the bucket turns upside down automatically and leaves you dripping. No, the side of the hard-plastic bucket dropped painfully onto him before the contents spilled out, splashing all over his shoulders and quickly cascading down. "Shit!"
"Dean?" Jimmy dropped the bags inside the house (away from the puddle that was quickly forming beneath him) and rushed to his side. Gabriel cackled from the couch in the living room, holding his sides and practically falling onto the floor. It was Sam who held his shoulder and steadied him so that he wouldn't. Even he had a smug grin.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean hissed, recoiling at the wash of water. Half of the bucket was filled with ice, and he was already shivering. "What the hell was that for?!" Dean glared at Gabe and Sam, shooting daggers. They didn't look slightly sorry. Gabriel gasped for breath.
"Your face!" Gabriel wailed, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "Oh my god, Sammy, did you see his face?" Sam nodded but honestly looked more interested in keeping Gabe from falling off of the couch. His fingers wrapped around Gabe's arms, and Gabe clutched Sam as well so he could pull himself back onto the couch.
"I'm going to go get you a towel, okay?" Jimmy said. He ran upstairs and came back down quickly, a fluffy white towel in his hands. Without asking, he draped it around Dean's shoulders like a blanket and hugged him tightly.
"Jimmy," Dean grunted, cheeks reddening.
"I'm just trying to dry you off, Dean," Jimmy said, ending the hug. He turned to his brother, who had since [partly] regained his composure. "Why would you do that, Gabriel?"
"Sammy and I were bored. You were out. Luke had an idea," Gabe shrugged nonchalantly.
"I heard my name," Luke drawled, appearing in the nearby hallway that led to the kitchen.
"This was your idea?" Dean asked, drying the part of his hair and face that were splashed. "I thought you were the responsible adult here."
"Nah, that's Michael. I thought you knew me better, Dean Winchester." Luke entered the living room and pushed Gabriel towards Sam so he could sit on the couch. "I'm not a regular mom. I'm a cool mom. Well, to be fair, I'm not a mom at all. But if I was I would be a cool one."
"Did he just quote Mean Girls?" Sam asked Gabriel in a rushed whisper.
"On Wednesdays he even wears pink," Gabriel replied with a short snicker.
"I'm not deaf, you know," Luke said.
"How do you even know that's from Mean Girls?" Dean asked Sam, shaking his head and pulling his eyebrows together.
"We watched it last night," Gabe said simply. "We were bored."
"And you couldn't think of something else to watch?"
"Wait, did you go through my disk collection?" Luke asked, turning and folding his arms to glare at Gabe.
"Wait, what's Mean Girls?" Jimmy asked with a frown.
"Are you even my brother?!" Luke asked angrily, suddenly pushing himself off the couch and leaving the room.
"Where are you going?"
"To take the cookies out of the oven!" Luke shouted. "And don't even start. I can make cookies if I want to."
A/N: Yeah, sorry for the sudden end. I will be updating, like I said before. I just wanted to get this posted on Valentine's Day like I promised. Don't forget to review, and thank you!