Dean reclined slowly back, one hand behind his head, the other around the neck of a bottle of peach soda. He smiled as Cas rolled across the rug to rest his head on Dean's chest, a cigarette between his lips. The two sat quietly another few minutes until All Night Thing faded to an end. Cas propped himself up on one elbow, as if to ask him what he thought.
"I see why you'd like that album," Dean murmured. "Cornell's got a nice voice."
"Mhm," Cas hummed. "He wrote two of those songs the day one of his best friends died."
"Vedder's got a great set of pipes too," he added. "Pearl Jam started because of this project, didn't they?"
"Yeah. Jeff Ament, Mike McCready, and Stone Gossard."
They went quiet another moment.
"Dean, you think loudly," Cas teased, poking his cheek.
"I was just wondering, have you ever ridden on a shopping cart?"
"What?"
"Y'know, like stood on the rack of a cart and just rode the cart down an aisle or across the parking lot or something?"
"No," he answered.
"Well, we gotta do that then."
Dean walked Cas out to the Impala, a Led Zeppelin tape in his hand. They listened to it on the way to Target, Cas staring out the window and watching the shapes and shadows around the streetlights. Dean tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.
Dean pulled into a parking space close to an almost-full cart corral. Dean stepped out and Cas followed.
"Okay, now step up on the bottom rack and hold the edges," Dean instructed, placing his hands on the cart. "Hold on tightly," he added before pushing off, running down the lot. "I'm gonna let go!"
The cart went flying down the pavement and Cas held on for dear life. Dean watched, grinning and whooping. Cas hollered as the cart went ripping towards a truck and crashing Cas' back into it. Dean jogged towards him to help, and the cart slipped out from under him, causing Cas to bang his head against the truck and his hands to slam against the ground.
Dean swore under his breath and dropped to his knees, pulling Cas halfway onto his lap. "Shit, you okay, Cas?"
"I think maybe I sprained my wrist," Cas grumbled.
"Look at me, what if you have a concussion? Man, let's get you to the ER," Dean helped Cas to his feet, gripping his upper arm in case his wrist was injured. He helped Cas to the Impala.
The ER was surprisingly empty, and they only had to wait half an hour before being seen. They told the nurse he fell getting out of the car and caught himself and hit his head on the car door. She gave him a brace to keep on his wrist for two weeks before sending the two on their way.