Dean toweled off his damp hair, as he shuffled along the hall toward Bobby's kitchen. The old man's study was still shut and locked from both entrances; still shielding some kind of secret. Of course, Dean was only assuming there was something in there that Bobby didn't want anyone to see. Why else would he shut and lock the doors? It wasn't like his mess of empty liquor bottles and splayed text books was going to suddenly offend the Winchesters. They had seen that sight all their lives. There had to be something else going on in that study...
Dean tried his best to shake off his curiosity, as he finally stepped back into the kitchen. Sam was still seated at the table; long arms and legs crossed. His damp hair was a mess on his head and he seemed kind of pensive; maybe thinking about the same topic Dean had been wondering about. The older brother slung his towel on his own shoulder as he strode toward the table. Both of them had finally gotten showers, to wash off all the rank food they'd thrown at each other that day. Although, Dean was sure his own shower hadn't been as satisfying as Sam's.
"Thanks for taking all the hot water," Dean mentioned, adding a heavy dose of sarcasm.
Sam sort of blinked up at him, coming out of his thoughts. He raked a hand through his lengthy hair, and sat up straight in his seat. He seemed genuinely apologetic.
"Oh. Sorry," he mumbled.
Dean shook his head to signal that he was just poking fun. To be honest, all the years of taking the second shower had grown on him. He was used to getting a cold shower every now and again. It was refreshing and bracing; made him feel more masculine... A smile slipped across Dean's mouth. Maybe he didn't mind the cold shower so much, because it compensated for how delicate Cas made him feel in the bedroom...
The brief flicker of Cas that crossed Dean's mind made the man realize the time. It had been hours since he last saw that angelic face; hours since he'd lost himself in that sapphire stare and felt that thump in his own heart beat. Cas had been gone for hours. And Cas was never gone for that long... Dean glanced around the kitchen, seeing the darkness of night beyond the windows and the clock on the wall that read something 'til ten. Cas and Gabriel had only left to get the damn Impala. Did they decide to take a freakin' detour on the way back? Did they get lost or something? How the hell could two angels get lost in a world that their own dad created?
"Where the hell are they?" Dean blurted out loud.
It was apparent that Dean didn't need to say anymore. Sam knew exactly who he was referring to. It must have been on his mind, too, because he flashed a glance out the window as soon as Dean said it. A look of obvious worry crossed the younger brother's face. Sammy's pursed lips and scrunched eyebrows made Dean think about his little brother's weird relationship with the trickster again.
Sam had not been in very many committed relationships – and Dean hadn't, either, really. It was just unspoken Winchester knowledge, that you didn't get close to someone unless you wanted them to die. Hell, they'd talked enough about that today, at Bobby's group therapy session. But, now that Sam was with Gabriel, Dean could see just how much that archangel meant to his little brother. When Gabriel was around, it was like the sun was always shining on Sam's face. The kid was all smiles, all the time. And when the trickster was gone – like he was, in that very moment – there didn't seem to be a trace of sunshine anywhere. Sammy's face was bland and troubled; as gray as the clouds on a stormy day. There used to be a time, when Sam's face lit up when Dean was around; when he was just a little kid, excited to hang out with his older brother. Had Gabriel stolen Dean's spotlight, in Sam's life?
"Do you think they're okay?"
Sam's question yanked Dean out his jealous thoughts. He was back in the kitchen with his brother again, staring down at the concern on Sam's face. While Sammy searched his eyes with questioning, Dean kicked himself in his head. It was stupid to think he didn't mean much to Sam anymore. Sam still looked up to him, right? So what, if the trickster was just as important to Sam as Dean was? The Winchesters were always going to stick together. Besides, in Dean's world, Cas and Sam were on the same level, too.
Before Dean could gather his words to reply to his brother, a giant whoosh filled the kitchen.
"That was incredibly rude, Gabriel."
Dean instantly spun around at the sound of Cas's short tone. The angels were back again, standing side-by-side near the refrigerator. Cas's wind-swept hair and intense eyes made Dean's heart flutter and his stomach seize up. Shit, how did the sight of Cas alone still give him stupid butterflies? How did he always manage to look so freakin' sexy, with his hands balled up and his lips curled together? Cas seemed pretty pissed; glaring at Gabriel next to him. The short archangel toed his way passed Dean, waving a hand in the air.
"Oh, it was just a little burn mark, honey-bee. No need to get your stinger in a knot," he dismissed, heading for Sam.
When Gabriel said the words 'burn mark,' the Impala was the first thing to cross Dean's mind.
"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled in panic, thinking that the trickster might have done something to his car again, "What the hell did you do, this time?"
Gabriel ignored Dean for a moment – long enough to stride right up to Sam, climb up on the tips of his toes, give the younger Winchester a quick kiss, and spin back around – before answering.
"Nothing! The hotel manager and I just had a little chat," Gabriel objected, turning to lower his voice and give Sam a suggestive smirk, "By the way, moose, that 'fresh-out-of-the-shower' look you've got going on, is making me longer and harder than the Great Wall of China..."
Dean tried to hold down the vomit that was threatening to crest in his mouth. Oh, God. He did not want those images in his brain. Why did the trickster always talk about shit like that in front of him? Sam's face was rose-red, too; eyes wide and embarrassed.
"Gabriel," he hissed in annoyance, under his breath.
"You did not 'chat' with the hotel manager," Cas interrupted, rescuing Dean from the terrible visuals in his mind, "you set fire to his head."
Dean's eyes flew wide. Gabriel had set someone on fire?! No wonder it took the angels so long to get back to Bobby's house. The trickster was too busy pulling pranks to notice the time.
"That wasn't his head, Cassie. It was a toupee," Gabriel corrected, as if it made any difference, "Besides, he deserved it, for trying to swindle us out of seven thousand dollars. He's lucky I didn't set the whole damn hotel on fire, for that snide comment he made to you."
A streak of protectiveness flashed through Dean instantly. His eyes snapped back to Cas at once.
"He made a snide comment to you?" Dean asked, searching the angel's innocent blue eyes, "What comment?"
Dean would be damned, if he was going to let anyone get away with being an asshole to his precious angel. He would drive all damn night just to get back to the stupid place and put the guy in a choke hold until he apologized, if he had to. Just like with Sam, Dean felt an overwhelming need to defend Cas; even if it was just over one, stupid little comment.
"He called Cas a 'Wallstreet Bumpkin," Gabriel answered, "But don't worry, Pinky, I made him pay for it. Literally. I didn't pay for our rooms, so he's gonna lose a shit-ton of profit. Not to mention the toupee thing. That's what he gets for being an asshole."
Dean blinked strangely toward Gabriel, eying the trickster's pompous smirk. Though he would never admit it out loud, Dean was secretly impressed. That spiteful act was something that Dean probably would have done, too; especially to a douche bag that had been rude to Cas. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe there actually was a tiny sliver of likeness between Dean and Gabriel...
"Good," Dean mumbled under his breath.
"No. It was the opposite of good," Cas spoke up, bringing Dean's eyes back to him.
The dark-haired angel seemed a tad remorseful; blue eyes shining with regret. This was one of the traits Cas possessed that Dean admired so much; his unfailing compassion and steadfast morals. Cas was always so good to people – maybe a little too good – and it upset him to be involved in pointless confrontation. He was such a sweet guy... such an angel...
Dean shook his head and smiled a bit, as he stepped close to Cas. His arms slid up to tuck tightly around the angel's slender torso, as he nestled his face into the crease of Cas's coat collar. Ah, the sweet aroma of Cas was so damn intoxicating; always able to make Dean light-headed at the faintest sniff. He could feel the angel's arms carefully circling around him, too; holding him close. Maybe it was the few hours apart, that caused them to be so affectionate with each other. But, whatever the case was, Dean was glad. Because hugging Cas like this, felt like coming home...
"Hello, Dean," Cas said, low and soft, lips moving against Dean's neck.
Dean's smile was genuine. Those two words never failed to give him peace of mind. The man's mouth tilted upward just enough to plant his lips on the very edge of Cas's jawbone.
"Hey, Cas," he replied softly into the angel's ear.
They both stood like that for a moment, just holding each other in their arms while Sam and Gabriel talked quietly across the room, until the sound of heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. Dean raised his head at the sound, peering beyond Cas's shoulder to see a figure approaching. It was Bobby, walking in from the hallway; except now, he was wearing a new set of clothes. At first, Dean thought Bobby had gotten a shower, too; by the smell of cleanliness radiating from him when he walked into the room. But, after a moment, Dean realized that the smell was Pine-Sol and bleach. Bobby absolutely reeked of household cleaning supplies. Why the hell did he smell so pine fresh?
The old man glanced from Dean and Cas hugging, to Sam and Gabriel holding hands, before shaking his head slightly and finishing his walk to the huge study door. Dean took a step back from the angel in his arms to get a better look at what Bobby undoing the lock on the door handle. Why was he acting so damn secretive about it? After a small 'click,' the old man turned back around to face the room again. His expression seemed a bit weary; eyes sunken and face aged.
"Boys," he began, glancing from Dean to Sam, "I know you've got a lot of, er, heavenly stuff goin' on in your own lives right now,... but, I sure would appreciate your help on somethin'..."
Dean and Sam glance at each other instantly, and the older brother could see the same underlying suspicion and worry in his younger brother's face. It was clear that Sam could see it, too; that Bobby was acting a little bizarre. Usually, they were the ones going to him for help. Since when did the wisest hunter in the world need help from the same kids he called 'idjits'?
"Aww, what is it, Singer? Are you feeling left out because your not getting any angel action?" Gabriel asked in a dramatically concerned tone, "I can make a few calls, if you wanna score your own halo buddy -"
"Give it a rest, pipsqueak," Bobby snapped, his face blazing with heat as he glared toward the archangel, "I'm talkin' 'bout a case. A real one, not some bullshit distraction. I ain't got all the information yet, but I do have a lead... If you're interested."
Dean took a deep breath and shared another glance with his brother. How could they possibly say no to the guy? This was still the family business, after all. Angels at their sides or not...
"Sure," Dean finally answered, "What have you got?"
With a small breath, Bobby turned back around to the study door. After a few 'clink's of a lock being removed, the old man finally slid the heavy door open. Dean drank in the sight of the study being revealed at once; secretly scanning for any noticeable differences inside. He just knew there had to be a dead body in there; at least something disturbing or gross. But, the first thing that struck Dean wasn't something that he could see. It was something he smelled. The harsh scent of Pine-Sol and bleach – the very same smell that Bobby was drenched in – was strong in the room. The closer Dean moved inside, the worse it became.
It was obvious that the old man had given the room a thorough scrubbing. Everything was neatly put away and in order; books shelved, empty bottles thrown away, desk tidy. It was incredibly clean. Too clean, by Bobby's standards. Dean felt more suspicious than ever. There had been something in this room; he knew it for sure. But, whatever it was, it was long gone, now. Dean reached back and took Cas's hand, while he looked around at every tiny detail of Bobby's study. The effort to find something out of place was pointless, really. If Bobby didn't want something to be found, then it was never going to be found...
"Uh, did Mr. Clean pay you a visit?" Gabriel asked, waving a hand in front of nose, "Geez, the smell of citrus is burning my retinas."
Bobby ignored Gabriel as he walked to the desk. He picked up a newspaper and held it out toward Sam, who took it instantly.
"Clyde Freeman," The old man said, shifting everyone's attention to the case, "Said he overheard his nephew selling his soul to the devil for a new saddle. Next day, the kid was found floatin' face down in a pond near his uncle's farm. No forensic evidence. No foul play. Best part is, cops found a brand new saddle sittin' in the barn. Never used."
Dean took a moment to consider all this information, while Sam stared blankly at the newspaper and the angels glanced at one another. The way Bobby said it, so bland and unsurprised, made Dean assume that this was something they'd dealt with before. Dean quickly racked his brain for something that sounded similar.
"It says here, that the nephew was only twelve," Sam said out loud, "I thought children couldn't sell their souls. I mean, don't you have to be a certain age to sign a contract?"
"Once a kid is old enough to know right from wrong, it's fair game," Bobby sighed, hanging his head a bit, "Some lore says, that with boys, it's around age ten. But, with girls, it's a little younger. And they don't even have to kiss or write a name. Sometimes a drop of blood is all a demon needs. The youngest soul ever sold willingly, belonged to a three-year-old girl. Or, so I've heard. Can't exactly trust demon gossip."
The thought made Dean absolutely sick. Soul-trafficking in general was bad enough to deal with, but with kids thrown into the mix, it was a thousand times worse. Dean's hand tightened around Cas's, trying to find comfort amidst the disturbing thoughts of damned souls...
"That's the second dead kid this week, who's supposedly sold their soul to the devil," Bobby went on, "So, I'm figurin' some whacked-out demon is running around, making bogus deals with kids to boost his soul count."
"That sounds like something Crowley would do," Cas stated, matter-of-factly.
Dean didn't miss the brief look that crossed Bobby's face at the angel's words. The old man's eyes flickered wider and he tilted his head farther down, blocking his face with the worn bill of his hat. Some part of Cas's sentence made Bobby uncomfortable. Dean, on the other hand, thought that Cas was absolutely right.
"Cas has a point," Dean insisted, staring at the scuffed bill of Bobby's hat, "This sounds like some straight up 'Devil went down to Georgia' crap, Bobby. And nobody piles up souls like Crowley does."
"Maybe," Bobby mumbled, "All I know is, I ain't lettin' another kid die on my watch. I'm working on getting the address of that Freeman fella. And, I was hopin', the two of you might wanna head over there and interview him. Try to find out -"
"Uh, I think you mean the three of us," Gabriel interrupted, arching an eyebrow, "This tall rack of antlers isn't going anywhere without his arm candy."
Dean rolled his eyes, as Gabriel looped his tiny arm around Sam's and tugged him close. Sam was obviously trying to hide a smile beneath his pink cheeks, seeming flattered to have Gabriel as an arm-accessory.
"The four of us," Cas corrected in a harsh tone, stepping forward defiantly.
Dean glanced up at the angel next to him, feeling a twinge of arousal in the pit of his stomach. Cas's jaw was set and his eyes were intense, reminding him of their time alone in the bedroom. An angel had no right to look so damn sexy, when saying the simplest of things... Bobby groaned aloud, finally raising his head in order to dramatically roll his eyes.
"Whatever. I don't care if you take the groupies with you on the road," he sighed, "just as long as you get it done."
"Do you want some help looking for his address, Bobby?" Sam asked.
"No, I've got it. Y'all can make yourselves at home. Might take me a while," the old man answered.
"A while?" Dean repeated, feeling a tad exasperated.
It wasn't exactly a secret anymore, that Dean loved having alone time with Cas. Fifty percent of the reason he loved being alone with his angel was, of course, all the intense, mind-blowing sex they usually got into. Another forty-nine percent, was because of all the cuddling and kissing and whispered affections they shared, that never failed to make him feel so much better about being alive. But that tiny, little one percent, was because being alone with Cas also meant being away from everyone else. Dean sort of like the seclusion; far away from potential arguments and random chatter. Being alone with Cas, especially around bedtime, was something Dean looked forward to all day.
And when Bobby said that it might take a while for him to get the case going, and told them to make themselves at home, Dean knew the indirect message underlying those words. It meant Bobby wanted them to stick around his house tonight. All night. Come morning, he would probably give them the information they needed. But until then, Bobby didn't want them to go. Dean had been dealing with people long enough to know, that older folks craved company more than anyone else. And Bobby seemed to be acting weird lately, anyway. Maybe it was for the best, that they stuck around tonight, and gave him some company. Maybe it would ease his mind.
"Uh. Not sure if you've noticed, Singer, but you're about two beds short," Gabriel blurted, "Where do you expect me to put my giant Sasquatch for the night? Out in your truck?"
Dean could see that Bobby was thinking quickly; probably trying to come up with an excuse for them to have to stay. And Dean felt bad for the old man, who never had much company. Like Bobby had said that very same day, life was a dangerous road to walk alone. Dean knew he needed to stay in his old man's house tonight – even if it meant giving up his alone time with Cas.
"Sam usually takes the couch," Dean informed, coming to Bobby's aid, "and I take the floor. It's only for one night."
Dean looked the archangel in the eye while he was talking, trying to make sure Gabriel could see his seriousness. Dean cared for Bobby just as much, if not more, than anyone else did. And he wasn't about to let his father-figure down, especially after all of the kindness he'd given Dean lately. To the man's surprise, Gabriel's eyes seemed to soften a little. The archangel glanced around the room – eying Bobby, Dean and Cas's joined hands, and Sam's puppy-eyes – before meeting Dean's stare again.
"I didn't have you pegged as the 'slumber party' type, princess," Gabriel shrugged, appearing defeated, "but, okay."
The trickster raised his hand and snapped his tiny fingers together – and two large beds suddenly appeared in Bobby's study. The couch on the right and the bookcase on the left were both shoved toward the kitchen, to make room for the full-sized mattresses. Dean blinked at the plaid blankets and fluffy pillows, feeling strangely comforted. Again, Dean didn't want to admit that Gabriel's actions were pretty cool – but, dammit, they were pretty cool. Bobby, however, didn't seem as enthusiastic about his study being tampered with.
"Hey! What in the hell?!" he gasped.
"Chillax, old man. I'll fix it in the morning," Gabriel said, hopping onto the bed on the right and tugging on Sam's hand, "Get over here, peach. Come and lay that pretty head down next to mine."
The Winchesters glanced at each other, and Dean could see the embarrassment and discomfort in Sam's face. Sam was deliberately hesitating; probably worried that Dean was going to say something against Sam and Gabriel sleeping in the same bed. But, after a long-ass day of personal reflections and talking shit out, Dean didn't mind it anymore. Who was he, to stop his little brother from getting into bed with the trickster? If Sam wanted to do it, then Dean wasn't going to stand in his way. The older brother gave the younger a shrug, signaling his indifference. The tiny smile that lit up Sam's face made Dean feel kind of proud. Hmm. Maybe he did still have a spotlight in Sammy's life...
"Whoa, whoa," Bobby piped up, looking a little pale, "There ain't gonna be any foolin' around under those sheets tonight, alright? Y'all better keep your damn hoses in the shed, get me?"
"You don't have to worry, Bobby. We're not gonna do that stuff here. I promise," Sam replied, crawling into bed next to Gabriel.
The old man shook his head and muttered some things under his breath, as he turned off the light and hobbled out of the room. Dean watched him walk out in the glow of the fireplace, still silently wondering what the hell had gotten to him. At Dean's side, Cas raised his free hand toward the fireplace and the flames slowly died out; leaving the room completely dark, save the moonlight from the window. Dean smiled at his angel's workings. It was amazing, how romantic Cas could be without even doing it on purpose...
"Nice," Dean said in a hushed whisper.
The man gently fell onto the celestially-made bed and pulled his angel along with him. Cas tumbled onto the bed next to Dean; their weight causing the mattress to bounce a little. After that, the only thing Dean could think about, was the feeling of Cas's body heat in the dark. They were still fully dressed and barely touching, but God. Even the tiniest bit of Cas's warmth made Dean's heart pound. And he really hated that the smell of Pine-Sol and bleach was so damn heavy in the air, because it was choking out Cas's heavenly scent. Dean found himself scooting closer to the angel in the dark; nuzzling his face forward until his lips bumped into some part of Cas's face. Dean kissed – what he assumed was – Cas's cheek, as he slid his arms tight around the angel's warm body.
"Are you cold, Dean?" Cas asked, barely audible, "I can warm -"
Having found the location of the angel's lips, Dean smashed his own mouth against it; muting Cas's question with a tender kiss. The familiar taste made Dean's blood pump faster, and chills race across his skin. Kissing Cas always seemed to be the perfect remedy for everything...
"I'm fine," Dean pulled away to whisper back, caressing the angel's clothed back.
Cas exhaled; his sweet breath brushing over Dean's face and wet lips. The man allowed his eyes to close, while he gripped a handful of Cas's coat. He thought again about what Gabriel said; about some stupid asshole mouthing off to Cas. Anger was quick to flash through him, making his eyes open again.
"I would have kicked the shit out of that guy, you know," Dean whispered, trying his best to see Cas's pretty face in the dark, "He would be drinking his food through a straw right about now, if I'd been there."
"What guy?" Cas asked, sounding lost.
"That stupid hotel guy," Dean answered, rubbing the fabric of the angel's coat between his fingers, "the one that called you names."
Dean could see a small, simple smile resting on Cas's lips. The angel rose a hand to gently place it on the side of the man's face. Dean's eyes flickered closed, as he enjoyed the warmth and comfort of Cas's touch. God, he loved it when Cas touched him; no matter when or where it was. It was always so gentle and full of affection; full of love.
"I have no doubt, that you would have defended my honor nobly, Dean," Cas whispered.
Dean smirked. Damn right, he would have... Dean's day had pretty much kicked his ass, and his body was more than ready for sleep. His thoughts were already becoming fuzzy. For a moment, he forgot that he was in Bobby's house. He forgot that he was laying in the old man's study, and that Sam and Gabriel were in a bed just across the room. All Dean knew for sure, was that he was falling asleep next to the one person that he adored more than anyone else in the world.
"I – I love you... Cas..." Dean mumbled, feeling the heaviness of sleep draping over his mind.
After a brief moment, two moist lips were gently pressing against the man's forehead in the dark. Dean barely felt it happening, because he was almost asleep. But he did manage to catch the sound of Cas's low voice speaking, just before he faded off completely...
"I love you, too, Dean."
The Impala rolled up the slick driveway; tires splashing through mud puddles all the way up the hill. The windshield wipers were slipping back and forth across the glass with a metronomic sound, filling the fogged car with tiny squeaks. It was drizzling rain in the hazy of the morning, and the inside of the car was as foggy as hell. Dean couldn't help but think that all the extra mouths were the reason for the fogged up windows. Sammy was sitting next to him and both angels were in the backseat, along with the dog in Gabriel's lap. Dean tried his best not to be upset about the Jack Russel Terrier being in the car, remembering the last time he said something about it. He glanced around at all the faces, huffing a breath. There were just too many people for this.
"Nobody is gonna believe that it takes four guys to investigate a murder," Dean mumbled, mostly to himself.
"It takes a whole team to investigate a murder, Dean," Sam uttered back, "but if you want, we could try to start working in pairs. You and Cas, and me and Gabe. Might get done faster that way."
Another echo of discomfort passed through Dean at the statement. Work in separate pairs? But, working cases was something that Dean and Sam did together. It was the family business. The Winchester business. Again, Dean worried that Gabriel was gaining the bigger part in Sam's life. Did Sam not like hanging out with his cool older brother anymore? Was there some kind of strange distance growing between them?
"Uh-oh. Road block," Gabriel said, hopping forward to point through the windshield.
Dean blinked himself out of his daze to hit the brakes. A giant metal gate was blocking the rest of the driveway. The farmhouse was in sight, just beyond the gate; planted neatly on a cozy hillside. The gate in front of them, however, was locked.
"Don't you worry, fellas. I can handle this," Gabriel said.
With a rustle of wings, the archangel was gone from the Impala, suddenly standing in front of the metal gate. Dean glared forward at the short, blonde guy. Oh, God. What was the trickster going to do this time? Dean heard the distinct sound of Cas sighing, before another rustle of feathers filled the car. Both of the angels were standing a few feet in front of the Impala, now; talking to each other in hushed tones. It looked like Cas was trying to stop Gabriel from doing something stupid. In passenger seat, Sam shook his head.
"Gabe is probably trying to blast it open," he said quietly.
"And Cas is probably trying to stop him," Dean added, tossing a smirk to his little brother.
A moment passed by in silence, while the angels debated on how to open the gate, before Sam spoke again. He was practically whispering; sounding kind of embarrassed.
"Hey, um, you didn't hear anything from our side of the room last night, did you?" he asked.
Dean's eyes flew wide and his head snapped fully toward Sam. What the hell? Sam and Gabe didn't have sex last night, did they? In Bobby's study? While Dean and Cas were in the same damn room? Sam must have seen the panic and outrage on Dean's face, because he quickly added -
"No, we – we didn't do that," he assured, "Gabe was just whispering stuff, and... I'm sorry if you heard any of it."
"No," Dean answered, taking a deep breath to calm himself, "I pretty much went straight to sleep."
The older brother could tell that the younger was thinking hard about something. Sam's eyes were glued to Gabriel through the windshield, and his lips were pressed into a line; making him look like a kid studying a blackboard. If there was anything Dean was proud to do, it was talking to Sammy about his problems. And it looked like the guy needed to talk.
"What is it, Sam? You got trickster issues?" Dean asked, noticing the unbreakable stare his brother had on Gabriel.
Sam blinked toward Dean, his face turning a little pink. Bashfulness was written all over his face.
"Do you – do you think it's possible that, um... C – can angels show their wings while, uh,... you know," Sam stuttered, looking away in embarrassment, "...while doing it?"
Dean could feel heat on his own face. It wasn't every day, that he and Sam talked about sex stuff. To be fair, their dad wasn't around when they were growing up, and they basically had to teach themselves about it. Of course, the occasional playboy or porno would pop up and the uncomfortable conversation would be unavoidable. But now that they were both in semi-stable relationships, with angels that were around all the time, the topic just seemed so personal. Dean could remember wondering about the answer to Sam's question himself, not too long ago. And hearing the shyness in Sam's voice amused him.
"Hell yeah, they can," Dean answered, smiling.
Sam's eyes eventually made their way back to Dean's; wide and curious. The kid cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, the red tint on his cheeks never fading.
"They can? I mean, you and Cas have...?" he trailed off.
"Oh yeah," Dean nodded, "a few times."
Sam's throat quivered, like he was gulping down his insecurity.
"And when, um, when it happens... when they turn celestial..." Sam edged off again, urging Dean to finish the statement.
"Let me put it this way, Sammy," Dean grinned, easing back in his seat and feeling full of wisdom, "Carmen Electra, Pam Anderson, and the entire playboy mansion combined couldn't make me come as hard as I do, when Cas breaks out those wings."
The look of awe on Sam's face made Dean feel strangely proud. It kind of felt nice to share his personal experiences with someone who could relate; especially when it was his own brother. And Dean's words couldn't be more honest. Cas's celestial badassery really did have the power to make him come like nothing else. Just thinking about it make his stomach tense...
A small 'bang' interrupted Dean and Sam's conversation. They both looked beyond the windshield to see that the entire gate had been ripped from the fence and tossed aside. After Gabriel dusted off his hands, both angels were suddenly sitting in the backseat again; Cas glaring at Gabriel, while Gabriel sat nonchalantly next to him, petting his dog.
"See? No sweat. I'd like to see Siri try to navigate better than me," the archangel mused.
"I'm so sorry, Dean," Cas mumbled, sounding remorseful, "I tried to stop him."
Dean turned in his seat to give a reassuring smile to his angel. All that talk about wings had planted the seed of arousal in Dean's gut, and looking at Cas's familiar face made it start to grow in full bloom. God, they really needed to get on with this case, before his dick had time to turn any harder.
As Dean tossed the car into drive and began moseying up the driveway, he noticed that a pensive look was still lingering on Sammy's face. Had their conversation been interrupted too soon? Did Sam still have more questions to ask? Did he still need some comfort, for his strange thoughts? Dean lifted a hand from the steering wheel, in order to hold a fist toward his brother in the passenger seat.
"Bros before halos?" Dean offered.
Sam gave a single chuckle, glancing up at Dean with a smile. The kid's laughter made Dean feel relieved. The distance between them wasn't so bad, was it? Just because they were with their own angels, now, didn't mean they had to be far apart. Sam bumped his own fist against Dean's, shaking his head with a grin.
"Bros before halos," he repeated.
(Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! *tosses hearts and kisses everywhere* I missed you so much! Well, how's that for a first chapter? :) I know it wasn't as shippy, but I felt that Dean and Sam needed some bro time. Also, I'm not sure of the exact lay-out of Bobby's house, but I hope my descriptions are close to canon. And, would you look at that, this story has an actual case that the boys will be working on with Bobby! It's about time I started coming up with background plot, right? :) As for the whole 'children selling their souls' thing, I have no idea if its coherent with canon lore. I just hope it doesn't offend anyone, because that's totally not my intention. By the way, thank you guys so much for reviewing the last chapter of Family! Your feedback was highly inducing to the continuation of this story. So to everyone who left me a review asking for more, this story is for you! :)
Alright, you know the drill. I gotta tell all you newcomers, that this fic is the sixth part to my Destiel fic, Solo, and has Sabriel a companion piece, titled Crème Brulee. You can literally read them side-by-side. Please feel free to check out the other stories before delving too far into this one. Might make more sense to ya. ;) As for the future chapters of this story, please note that I will be attempting to update every 7-10 days, so don't freak out if there is a small break in between chapters. I promise to never leave you hanging. :) Thank you so much for reading! Chapter two will be out very soon!)