Ohai guys. I'm new to writing SPN fics, so please, feel free to correct me on my mistakes. And its up to you whether you take this as a Destiel fic. But Iam doing this about Cas and Dean.I hope you like it ;)

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"What's that?"

Dean was too lazy to stand up and look at the inside of the box that Sam was holding.

"You wouldn't be interested." Sam scoffed him off and continued to walk away. Dean, pissed, and followed his brother to the room, pestering him of what was inside the box.

"Well, if its porn-"

Dean tries to grab the box, but Sam, being the gigantic moose he is, was quick and raised it to the air, out of reach.

"Well, Its not."

Sam gave him a death glare and proceeded to his room. He waddled back to his chair and wondered what made his brother get into a sour mood. And the afternoon went by, without anything going on. No supernatural happenings, no people that needs saving. Nothing.

"Hey, Sam! Would you mind buying dinner?"

Dean was feeling lazy as ever, and drank another bottle of beer. He waited for a reply, but there was none. He slowly pulled himself up to check on Sam, his arms supporting his weight as well. His legs and butt were numb from sitting on that comfy couch for almost the whole day.

"Sam?"

He knocked on the door, rubbing his butt from cramping. There was only silence. Dean, growing weary, starts pounding on the door, and shouting.

"Sam! Open up!"

He wasn't really worried, or anything. Sam was capable, he knew that. He would also make noise, or a disturbance to show that something was wrong, it is very unusual for him not to. Dean's thoughts flies to Sam's 'mysterious' box, and if that's what he'd been spending his time on. He calls on his name one, last time, and when he doesn't answer, he decides to take things in his own hands. He backs away from the door, and stretches his arms, and legs.

"Dean, I'm rea-"

Sam, unfortunately, opens the door when Dean's leg were flying towards it. Surprised, and paralyzed, Sam was unable to get out of the way, and Dean's foot lands on his stomach causing the both of them to fall, and cringe on the floor. Sam grips his stomach tightly as he collapses on the small bed, knocking the box that was starting to make sounds. He grabs it, and immediately shoves it underneath, just before Dean realizes it.

"Nice timing. Your door was about to break."

Sam snorts, and gets up, his arm still pressing hard on his stomach.

"Yeah, yeah. Buy dinner, got it."

Sam was feeling secure about 'it' until he noticed Dean staring at him, his eyebrow raised a questionable expression on his face. He was looking beside Sam, the inder side of the bed. He heard something, and there was no doubt for him that it was under the bed.

"What is that, Sam?"

The tone of Dean's voice was clearly sarcastic, and suspicious. He very much knew that the 'something' that was in Sam's box awhile was now hidden under the bed, a desperate attempt of Sam to hide it.

"What? What's what?"

Sam was doing his best to act oblivious to Dean, and was failing miserably. He reached under the bed once more, his arm behind his back so that Dean wouldn't hear him, but he caught Sam's arm bobbing, a sign that he was doing something behind. Dean, irritated, and determined, he jumps forward Sam, trying to push him aside, and look under the bed. Dean's hand was pushing Sam's face to the side, while his legs were locked around Dean's waist. A position one might say awkward to be caught doing with your brother.

"Let go Sam!"

Dean found himself overpowered, Sam was over him, lodging his hands on his back, and Sam's hand pressed on his face.

"Just let.." With one, swift, and powerful kick to the balls, Sam falls to the floor, and Dean rolls over, and scrambles for breath. He quickly crawls under the bed, and was kicking when Sam tried to grab his feet that wasn't under the bed, which resulted into getting Sam kicked on the face.

A struggle, Sam let's go, and exhales deeply. There was no use. Dean is persistent, and there's no changing that. He could only hope for the best.

Under the bed, Dean spots a pair of small red eyes, suddenly widen and squirm away when his hand swished over it. The pair of eyes scurried to another side of the bed, and another, without really going out. Pulling all the strength he can, he dives for it when it was close to the side. It had a tail, and seemed to make a sound, a cry of pain, Dean deduces. And brought out to the light, what was in Dean's hands was a kitten, mewing loudly.

"The hell, Sam?"