Welcome to the second chapter of "All In One Basket"! I got some great feedback from the last chapter, so I'd like to thank you all who reviewed! I do not own Supernatural or it's characters - but I do own this story! This chapters song is "Old Virginia" by Crooked Still.
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A great big gust of breath escaped Castiel's lungs as he was knocked rear first into a few stray stacks of yellowed hay - too old and filled with dust to be used as anything but furniture in the sparse house.
He felt the scratchy stalks of straw poke at his legs, sticking stubbornly to his woolen trousers - creating an awful friction that itched like hell. He frowned softly as he began to pick at the grass from his pants, fearing that he'd get a good lashing from Michael if he presented himself in such a sorry state at breakfast.
"Honestly, Dean! Must you always just drag me through the door?" Castiel grumbled softly, not really mad - just a tad bit annoyed that this seemed to be the main ritual of his greeting the two Winchester Boys.
He scowled at a very persistent spider web that was iced with dust and clinging to his messy black hair. He made a face of exasperation as he pulled the strands of white from his head. Goddamn Spiders.
However, he could somewhat excuse Dean for his rambunctious and skittish attitude whenever Cas came a' knocking at their front door.
Everything was, and had to be, done in secret of course. No one could know of Castiel's visits, of his daily drop offs of food, comfort, and friendship. Of his little check ins to make sure Sam hadn't coughed up a lung with his persistent illness, to make sure Dean was eating well and not fretting too much over his younger brother like a mother hen with a cold egg. To make sure they hadn't been run out of town from their house that was charred and was long since condemned due to it being more unsafe than a loaded gun with a loose trigger.
Castiel, however, did his best to be there for the both of them, as they had little to their name - everyone in town knew that.
Everyone knew how Dean, the eldest had to catch wild catfish down in the muddy rivers soaked green because he couldn't afford bread and milk for his and Sammy's dinner. How Sammy had a certain cough that they didn't have the money to get fixed - perhaps whooping, perhaps hay fever - they really didn't know, but it made the poor boys veins burn, the blood boiling beneath his skin as if he had a demons virus running through him. Or how Castiel was like a God-sent angel to them, scrounging up food, news, hope whenever he could, because no one else would help them.
The Winchester boys were poorer than Tennessee dirt ever since their Daddy went raving like a mad hound dog and left them- snapping his jaws and drinking himself into a stupor till he just kicked his rocking chair to the floor and left without a word.
Dean would never really tell Castiel what living with his father was like, though the littlest Novak did often catch a glimpse of a strange mixture of fondness and fear in the boys eyes whenever his father was brought up in conversation which wasn't often. Having John Winchester for a Daddy wasn't something easy, that Castiel knew from his sparse late night talks with Dean while Sammy slept on a pile of hay and flour sacks.
My how the towns people would talk though, if they knew that meek little Castiel Novak was frolicking with those dirty, worthless, Winchester boys.
It was like one of Jesus' lambs running with a pack of Satan's wolves. Or, at least, that's what Castiel was sure the townsfolk's imagination would conjure up if they ever found out - and each day he prayed to God that they never did, for the safety of Dean and Sam.
But Castiel didn't care too much for what the whistle-stop population squabbled about the boys, about how they'd probably never seen a scrub of lye soap, how they probably caught squirrels between their teeth for their food, or how they swam buck naked in the river under the moonlight for their bath. (The last one Castiel could confirm was true - as he later found out that swimming in the cool Alabama river at night more naked than the day he was born was a fine experience that every child should have!)
The Winchester brothers were the closest things to real friends that Castiel had - and he would do anything to keep it that way. No amount of gossip from squawking town folk could deter him. Not even the threat of a rowan switch to the back of his legs from Michael could make him crumble.
He had the fear and grace of God within him to do the right thing, and he was sure helping folks in need was the best thing in this world he could do at the moment.
But, friends or not, that did not mean that the eldest of the Winchesters had the right, had the gall to shove him inside the little shack so roughly! Castiel wasn't some fast-healing Supernatural being - he was human, and being rough with a human often led to bruises and scraps.
None of which Castiel wanted to sport, thank you very much. Being pale meant he bruised much too easily.
After scraping the last of the hay dust that flecked golden - or as much as he was able to scrub off with his stubby fingernails, he looked to Dean who was still standing above him with his lopsided grin.
If he was a dog his tongue would be hanging out, Castiel thought with a chuckle.
"Sorry, Cas. Didn't mean to be so rough." Spoke that very self assured voice that Castiel had encoded to memory. The southern drawl of it was like nothing he had ever heard. It was swirled with the essence of summer, like green dragon flies and the smell of sweet potato pie and hot sun that made you sweat - of laughter gilded together with the fresh hinting of past better memories and the raw sound of past pain.
Dean's voice always held the inklings of pain, no matter what he was saying.
It was a voice that belonged entirely to the older boy, and for that, Castiel loved it - cherished it more than any other in the world.
"It is alright - but, please. Be more careful next time. You nearly broke the eggs." The black haired boy chastised his elder by almost a year - Dean having turned Seventeen a few months ago, letting his age get to his head like a colt turned stallion. He was just raw charisma and cockiness all rolled into a growing strapping young teenage boy. A dangerous combination for a poor boy to have in these parts. Especially if that poor boy hadn't taken to using the words "Yes Sir" and "No Sir."
"Ah! So that's what ya' brought?" Dean asked, with a quick lick of his lips as his smile grew - the promise of food too good to contain his grin.
At the mention of what was soon to be a hot meal, a little lump on the other side of the skeletal caged living room moved and shifted to show the sleepy hazel colored eyes of one tired Sam Winchester.
"I haven't had eggs in weeks…" Mumbled a sleep laden voice that had just the hinting of bratty-ness - as fourteen year olds tended to acquire. But it was soon smoothed over with a grateful smile as coffee colored hair was shaken like a dog to disperse dust and the little boy freed himself from his cocoon of moth and mice eaten blankets.
"Hey, Castiel," he smiled in greeting. "Thanks again for scrapping together some food for us." The littlest Winchester, who always spoke with good Christian manners, scooted closer to Cas, trying to not seem too desperate to get his hands on his meal that would no doubt be his first and last today. He had at least a pound more politeness than his elder brother who was as stubborn and good-natured as a cranky mule. Sam, at least had patience.
"It is no problem Sam, I only wished I could give you two more than my meager supplies - but I fear if I did take an increase in stock, Michael would surely notice." Castiel frowned at his sudden inability to give more, share more, offer more - his mother hen instincts kicking in as he lightly coddled Sam to him, the littlest boy only biting his lip a bit at the awkward display of affection that was entirely Castiel.
It was as if the black haired boy was secretly an angel and thought of himself as a failure for not being able to provide more with all his angelic goodness. As if he didn't deserve his wings and halo any longer.
"Don't worry about it - we are grateful to you, really!" Sam smiled, his young eyes sparkling something dewy and it made Castiel feel a bit better, as if his efforts hadn't been entirely useless.
But that didn't stop Castiel from noticing just how tired and sorry looking the brunette at his side looked - as if he had picked a fight with an iron freight train - and the train had won.
Smudges of blackness like smeared charcoal rimmed under those sweet looking innocent eyes that had done the world no harm, that looked to have dreamt great things with that gaze, so pure as it looked back into Castiel's own cornflower beauties.
Sam's lips were bitten and pale and a bit scabbed as if he had been worrying them to death from nervousness. From sleepless nights that plagued both brothers, of waking up startled by any hinting of a noise - of lying in bed from coughs and chills from the draftiness of their little hovel. Of being separated in the morning only to be found in cold concrete jail cells behind iron bars.
But that train of thought had to die right then and there, had to smolder like a match on it's last breath of phosphorous, stamped out cold and black.
Because Castiel just couldn't bare to inspect the damage that the world had done on this poor ramshackle family. He didn't need to dig too deep to understand that things were bad, that help was needed in more places and none. He didn't need to know all of it so he didn't dare ask - he didn't ask about their Daddy or Mamma' though he knew enough about them from newspaper clippings he stole from his Daddies show box. He didn't ask about their money troubles, about Sam wanting an education he could never afford, about Dean dreaming of owning a shiny black car that would thunder down the road in a cloud of dust.
He didn't need to ask because he already knew of their dreams and struggles and wants, and that was enough.
It was enough.
So he sucked his cheek in between his teeth and killed those thoughts, finding no good in them - the devils tools to make him fall.
"Dean, you're so greedy - You have no manners!" Sam said then, smacking his brothers snooping hands away from the now revealed pie, looking sweet and crisp and beautiful - like in one of those nicely printed recipe books that old ladies kept in their cupboards, black inked pictures that gleamed on the pages.
Dean retracted his hand, cradling it to his long sleeved white shirt that had more of it's fair share of dirt - making the cloth look almost brown though try as Dean did to clean it at the river with pounding rocks.
Rolling his eyes, the eldest of all of them scoffed, pointing dramatically to his stomach which Castiel knew for a fact from swimming with the boys was toned and muscular and a bit underweight in some places. Ribs shone under his breast, hunger evident in places were fat and muscle should be stored.
"Uh, yeah, I'm starving aren't I? Manners don't matter when you're starving!" He declared, a soft smile gracing over his lips as he rubbed at Sam's long hair - the child due for a haircut that they couldn't afford, let alone give without having half his ear taken off by Deans clumsiness.
Dean was no good with scissors - he was all thumbs.
"Well, here, if you are so hungry." Castiel pressed the wire basket into Deans hands, the cool metal leaving his palm to slide against Deans own.
Green eyes grew wide with thanks as the eggs, pretty and petite rolled against the pattern of wire, the three of the little oval shapes then handed off to Sam who cradled them in his palm as if they were jewels - laid by the golden goose or other such nonsense.
"Take some fat from the grease jar in the cupboard and smear it over a pan - fried eggs sound mighty good right now, doncha' think, Sammy?" Dean chuckled as he sent his little brother to cooking over the small wood stove that had thankfully been intact inside the house save for a few rusty handles and a smoke flew that you had to jostle and hit to work.
But they would take what they could get.
After the pie had be split into three gooey chunks of cold apple and cinnamon, and the eggs had been fried to perfection - if not a bit runny, the three boys sat down to their meal.
Castiel had politely taken the littlest piece of pie on his chipped plate and left the rest of the eggs and pastry to the brothers - as they needed the calories more than he.
They sat in silence for the most of their breakfast - the sounds of fingers licked clean, of teeth clacking and of the smallest little usurp coughs from Sam the only noise in the wind tattered cabin.
But it was a nice silence, one that wasn't strained in the slightest by the outside world. In here, when they were together - they were as safe as they could be.
The Devils and Demons outside these walls couldn't touch them.
"So, what do we owe you for the food?" Sam asked then, licking his fingers clean of the little specks of uncooked egg yolk, his mouth wincing as the meal was still piping hot from the stove and the grease bit like a wild cat on his lips.
Castiel paused, wiping the pie crumbs from his tweed trousers as he then fiddled with the metal clasp of his suspenders. He busied his hands like crazy, not meeting the two Winchesters as they began to pick themselves up off the floor to put the few little clay glazed plates they held in their possession to soak in the wash pale for an easy cleaning as soap was not an option to be wasted on dishes.
The littlest Novak knew for a fact that the Winchesters did not take charity. They were stubborn and fierce and would be proud to the end or die trying. So, this, Castiel had to handle with care lest he offend Dean something fierce.
With meek blue eyes the black haired boy looked cautiously up to Dean who caught his gaze, his eyes widening to the size of the Devils full moon before his face grew shy and his cheeks began to burn. Yet he did not look away.
Castiel smiled softly, a quiet upturn of lips that he was sure only Dean could see - and all for the better.
"I'd like the same payment as yesterday... If that's alright." Castiel's eyes never left Deans own green ones, their gaze so cemented that it would take a garrison of angels to pull it apart.
At the not so careful look that the two older boys were placing on display, Sam raised his eyebrows, feeling like he was missing out on something that was mighty important. At least he thought so, judging from the way his brothers face was turning pinker than one of Ellen's Prized roses.
Oh yes, he was missing something very important.
"Uh, yeah. Let's, let's go out on the back porch though - I moved the tin of pennies under the boards." Dean bit his lip after he spoke, rubbing the back of his head as if he had one hell of an itch under his skin. An itch that he just could not for the life of him scratch.
At Castiel's sudden quirked eyebrow, Dean felt his eyes dart to the floor than back at the boys face, biting the inside of his cheeks as he did.
"Safe keeping an' all." He mumbled in a sorry attempt to explain himself - something he, as a Winchester, should not have to do.
"But I thought the money tin was under the mattress-" Sam was about to interject with more puzzlement in his voice than Dean cared to deal with at the moment.
"Shut up, Sammy." The older Winchester barked with a pointed look, his voice not so much as angry as it was irritated.
Sam frowned for a few seconds, a bitch face about to erupt over his features before he hunched his shoulders and snatched his unused fork off the floor, throwing it into the wash pale with a thunk - water spraying over the wall in speckles.
"Whatever," He stuck his tongue out at his brother, earning a softer glare from Dean as an apology.
Sam then turned to Castiel with a renewed smile, a grin that was partly due to having a full belly and partly due to seeing an old friend again.
"See you later Castiel, and thanks very much for the eggs and pie." Sam waved softly to the black haired boy as he inched closer to the kitchen to make sure they had enough wood for tomorrows meal, leaving Cas and Dean to make their way outside.
Walking along the frayed and half worn porch that squeaked under their combined weight, Castiel felt his gaze stay on the back of Deans neck as the sun did it's damage upon his skin - a salty drop of sweat curling into the wrinkled collar of his shirt.
Castiel licked his lips, making sure that Dean did not see his eyes that were already showing glazed and nervous. He wringed his hands together, placing the empty wire basket on the floor at his mud caked feet.
This part of his visits always made the littlest Novak's heart hurt dearly in his chest - a good kind of pain, like a dull throb of waxing pleasure, but a hurt none the less. As if his heart was the old wood of a cello - his pleasure the strum of the strings. His heart played a lovely song and all for a certain person who he cared deeply for - more than anything in the world.
The quiet must have gone on for too long though, as Dean was now turning his head, shuffling his ratty clothed body towards Castiel with a purpose that shown sheepishly on his face.
Once he was in front of Castiel, a few inches away, he lightly grazed his fingers over Castiel's forearms, the innocent touch making Cas's face color red, his breath hitching in his throat.
Dean chuckled, obviously amused by how his touch could cause Castiel to react in such a away.
"Uh, well - here. Your payment." Deans breath was hot as it ghosted over Castiel's lips - the black haired boy feeling his heart in his throat as he relaxed his jaw - breathing in and out through his nose.
He closed his eyes softly, his soft raven lashes lacing over his pink flushed face as he waited for his compensation that he looked forward to so dearly each day.
"Now, now why ya' gotta' close your eyes?!" Castiel was not expecting words - lips, yes. But not words. Especially ones that were a little desperate and whiny.
He huffed in mild irritation before opening his eyes to pout at Dean.
"I...I just, that's how I've always...accepted payment. I get nervous if I don't." He curled his tongue in his mouth as he looked to the ground, feeling all abashed again, hands coming to coil at his sides as if he had done something wrong.
Which apparently he had, because Deans lips were still not upon his, he thought with a twinge of annoyance.
Dean sighed, his face peppering red as he rubbed the back of his neck again, a sign Castiel had come to know as his 'nervous' gesture. It almost made Castiel smile once more. Almost.
"Well, yeah," Dean bit his lip as he tried to find the words he wished to say. "But ya' miss the best part if you close your eyes!" He insisted with his reasoning, hands tightening just a tad on Castiel's arms, making the cornflower blue eyed boy look up at the touch.
Castiel seemed to mull over Deans words in his head, weighing their importance, their truth against his own feelings on the matter.
"Perhaps I should be allowed to decided what is the best part." He finally spoke, a kind smile testing itself on his lips as his eyes looked up to Dean.
The older boy felt his throat go dry as his mouth parted a bit, jaw relaxed and all too shocked at the other boys words that brushed over him.
Castiel smirked.
"But, I will open my eyes this time. Just for you." The smiled reached his blue eyes as he spoke.
Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his mouth, his teeth showing behind his lips as he licked them wet.
Leaning into the Novak boy with a sense of eagerness that was entirely Dean, pretty lips pressed against dried ones in a gentle brush that was softer than a marigolds petal and sweater than a piece of candy.
Once parting for a quick suck of warm air that caressed around them happily, Castiel felt his eyes almost flutter shut before Dean gave him a playful frown to remind him to keep them' beauties open.
And then that mouth was on him again, hungrier with more determination that all but made Castiel's toes curl in his shoes, his hands dumbly squeezing at his side as he craned his neck up to further the slide of lips, the wetness of a mouth opening and the shy peaking feeling of a tongue bushing against his own.
It was marvelous, beautiful, and glorious all wrapped up into one and it left Castiel breathless as those warm and entirely rough fingers pressed against his clothed arms again, the feeling of touch an overload to his innocent brain.
This was not innocent. He concluded with half a smile as he felt one of his hands leave his side on instinct to grip tightly at Deans shoulder - he couldn't help his fingers squeezing tighter as Dean licked at the roof of his mouth.
Castiel had never whimpered, ad never made a sound like that in his life - and it was all thanks to Dean.
But then their lungs started to burn, a protest for air barely reaching their minds as fingers slipped from their grip on shirts and necks were pulled back - lips wet with spit and red with nipping shone in the sunlight.
Castiel had to resist the urge to giggle.
"Thank you, Dean." He rasped, his voice entirely wrecked and all from a kissing session that couldn't have lasted more than a minute.
"That was... Very enjoyable." Cas mused, as he watched Dean shove his hands in his pockets - the older boy leaning back on the heels of his boots as he grinned like a wolf who had just caught a rabbit.
"Yeah, well, you're not too bad yourself - should shave that Goddam stubble though. It's like kissing one of Singer's goats." His eyes crinkled as he laughed, Castiel betting he could count all the freckles on his pretty face if Dean would let him.
Then Dean was shifting on his feet again, hands busying themselves to grip at his suspenders like old men do when they want to be serious - or at least want to try and act serious.
Dean failed miserably.
"Um, hey, listen. Sammy and I, we were going to go down to the pond to fish - get some food in our bellies. Wanna' come along?" He was trying his best to sound nonchalant, as if whatever answer Castiel gave him would be fine, would not matter in the slightest. Cas knew it to be a lie.
But he couldn't help but frown, knowing fully well that today of all days he was needed at the general store the most to help his brothers and sister when Michael brought the new stock in from the neighboring town. He would have to man the counters with Anna as well as help carry goods in while Gabriel took numbers of all their supplies - what was dwindling, what was popular, what was just collecting dust on shelves. Michael himself would be swamped helping his father carry the crates inside, what with Michaels lame leg and all - his injury thankfully excluding him from going back into the hell that was the war.
Cas sighed, wishing more than anything that he could spend the afternoon wading in the swampy water, shucking feet and hands in rock holes and banks to wrestle out whiskered catfish - maybe find a couple of crawdads for their supper.
But he was sadly needed elsewhere.
"I would love to, but I'll have to decline. Michael is taking the mules downtown to get more supplies - I have to go help Anna work the counter at the store while father and him unpack and water the team." Castiel hung his head low, not wanting to see the disappointment that was sure to flash over those pretty green eyes.
Dean sighed himself but nodded, knowing full well that Castiel, no matter how many siblings he had to help, always had a full chore and work load at the general store that was the families income. Their fun day in the sun would just have to wait another day.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I wished we had more time to be together, you're a real good friend." Castiel spoke quietly, eyes shifting upward to plead with Dean to understand that Castiel's life practically revolved around him and his younger brother. Without them Castiel barely had a reason to live, or so his dramatic sixteen year old brain told him.
Dean looked up quickly at his words, a bit of hurt clouding his eyes before, quicker than it came, it was gone - wiped away with a fake smile that hurt to settle upon the Winchesters lips. Hurt more than a stab to the gut.
"It's no problem, Cas. I wish we had more time to laze around too." He assured him, Cas barely catching the discomfort from before. It was like it never really happened, a figment of his imagination.
"Maybe... Don't get mad, But I was thinking of talking to my father about something." Castiel twiddled his thumbs, feet kicking lazily at the wire basket that rolled some with his movement. It skidded over the creaking porch that cracked in places and splintered in others.
"'Bout what?" Dean asked carefully, thumbs resting against the inside of his scuffed up corduroy pants - a farmers clothing the only thing he could afford.
"Well, we need more help with running the store - Pa's never around and what with Michaels lame leg - we need more hands than not." Castiel bit the inside of his mouth, waiting for the verdict like a deer awaited the buckshot.
"Cas, I don't want no charity." Deans voice was low with warning, his stubbornness icing his tone.
Castiel huffed, palms upturned at his side in a pleasing gesture.
"It's not charity, Dean. We need help - you're brother, he's very smart. He could help keep numbers on stalk and profits. Lord knows we need someone cleaning up after Gabe's horrendous accounting mistakes."
Dean furrowed his brow, thinking carefully, weighing what little options he had at the moment.
Seeing that he was wearing the older boy down, Cas persisted, a smile on his lips, eyes wide and hopeful - using his baby blues as a secret weapon that no one could resist.
"And you could work with me - running the counter and doing deliveries!" Cas sounded more excited by the second, willing Dean to consent to this marvelous plan of his.
Dean scratched his chin with his right hand, his eyes skeptical as he began to mumble.
"It would help pay for some of our costs. Sammy's got an awful bought of a cough - we could save up some money to buy him some of that expensive medicine to help. Hell, maybe even get him through school." Dean laughed then, a biting sound that was entirely humorous, but still Cas hoped again all hope that Dean would say yes. He would love to spend more time with the boys, watching over them and making sure they had enough money to get themselves the goods they deserved. Warm blankets, lantern oil, meat and vegetables and maybe even Deans favorite peach tobacco as a treat once in a while.
"So, will you do it then?" He had long since scooped up the egg basket and was wringing it and wrenching it with his hands, sweat slick against his palm with nervousness.
Dean worried his lower lip for a few seconds before he spoke.
"I'll think about. Ask your Daddy, see what he says about the whole thing." Dean caved, folding his arms over his chest as he admitted defeat - though he did feel a surge of happiness as he watched the black haired boys face light up, the smile shining in his cornflower eyes.
Castiel grinned fondly, his heart heating with the smooth sensation of warmth before placed his hands on either side of Deans cheek. He pressed his lips happily against the Winchesters own, feeling quite pleased at the little gasp against his mouth as he did so.
Then, with that parting kiss, Castiel pulled back and winked to the older boy, feeling a surge of confidence over take him as he quickly clamored over the side of the porch rails, feet landing in a pile of pine needles as he turned back to wave a stunned Dean, stuck in place as if he was cemented to the spot.
After Castiel, sheepish smile and intense blue gaze and all, bounded away from the shambled house, Dean felt he could take air into his lungs once again. His brain was working over time to sift through the many mixed signals that the youngest of the Novak children was giving him, his heart pounding heavy at his breast, making him almost feel pleasantly sick.
Rubbing his cheek which he was sure had now turned beet red, Dean turned to the houses back entrance, his feet making a slow lead-heavy racket as they stomped over the threshold.
Once inside he spotted his younger brother nursing a plain white chipped mug of yarrow tea - Dean having colleted the white flower clusters painstakingly yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, getting his shoes all wet and muddy with early morning dew.
After once more especially large gulp, Sam took a heaving breath of the stale air in the house before he looked to Dean with a curious gaze, noticing his brothers flushed face.
"So, what's new?" Sam asked quietly as he set the tea down on the three legged stool that served as most often than not their dinner table.
Dean, deciding to get straight to the point as he was so accustomed to, ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair that was quickly turning darker by summers light.
"Cas offered us jobs at his Daddies store." Quick, simple, to the point.
Sam's eyes widened with glee, sitting up from his little nest like bed.
"That's great, Dean! When do we start?!"
Dean sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, sitting down across from his little brother on a shapely bale of hay, the back of his pants battling against some of the itchiness that crawled up his legs like spiders.
"He has to ask his Daddy first. I told him we'd think about it."
Sam pulled his very first bitch face of the day, what was to become more as the day dragged on.
"Dean, we need the money. I ain't feelin' too hot in this cramped little cabin. It smells, it's drafty, and I'm pretty sure a rat has been sleeping in my bed with me. I want out, Dean."
The older Winchester nodded, hearing his brothers words like a knife to his heart. Sammy did deserve better, better than tin crackers as a meal, of chewing leaves of wild mint and feverfew to curb his hunger when their tummies were rumbling something fierce in demand for food, always wanting food. If Dean could help keep them afloat, at any means, - well, then, a job he'd take. Even if it did sound an awful lot like charity.
Deans pride be damned.
"Alright. I'll tell Cas yes. We'll work at the store."
Sam grinned, eyes sparkling, brow waggling. "Now you can see your Sweetheart everyday." He smirked, sticking his tongue out.
Dean colored redder than cranberry jelly at thanksgiving before he hit his brother warningly on the arm, Sam laughing as he recoiled back from his brothers light cuff.
"You wanna' lower your Goddam voice?!" Dean hissed out. " I don't feel much like getting strung up today, do you? Besides. He's not my sweetheart." He grumbled out with a huff, wedging himself deeper against the creaking wall of the shack, straw digging painfully against his lower back.
"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes at his older - yet simply stupider - brother. Clearly Sam was the one who got the brains in the family. "Don't think I don't see you two - kissing and muttering honeyed words. You're in love with him!" Sam declared, throwing his hands up in a jabbing gesture before smacking them down of the dusty empty flour sacks - leftover white powder flinging up into the air.
Deans face soured like he just ate something bitter.
"Yeah, well, he ain't in love with me. He thinks were friends."
"Oh..."
Dean smiled, a disbelieving growl of lips that promised the destruction of furniture and maybe a wall - as if the older boy was about to stomp his foot through the floor boards in an attempt to make him feel better.
"What kind of friends kiss each other without it bein' more?! I ain't putting my neck on the line for fuckin' friendship!I love him, Sam!" Dean growled out with frustration, knotting his fingers in his short clipped hair as he hissed out air from his lungs, eyes biting red.
Sam, for once was stunned at his brothers outburst of painful emotion - his eyes widening as a whine escaped Deans throat.
Sure, Dean got emotional sometimes - but usually he only cried over burned pie or spilt beer. This was serious - this was really eating Dean inside and out.
"Talk… Talk to him - clear up the misunderstanding, Dean." Sam whispered softly, his puppy dog eyes making Dean's own gaze shut tight, not wanting his brother to guilt trip him into spilling more of his guts like a blubbering fool.
"I just might." Dean whispered under his breath, before he turned to Sam with a hard warning look - his jaw set tight in the big brother kind of way.
"Not a breath of this to anyone - I don't want to get run outta' town, ya' hear?!" He pointed his finger at his younger brother, Sam nodding earnestly before a soft smile, a small upturn of lips, showed on his face.
"Whatever you say, Dean. Whatever you say."
…
Wow, long chapter is long! Well, I hope you liked the itty bitty little make out fest and the pouring of feelings. Hah! Please review, it makes me oh-so-happy!
