With and Without (Destiel)

Chapter 23: The Date

So apparently I lied...

No apology is gonna suffice for this one, I think. Jeez. It's been what, two months? How can I ever repay you guys? I know my reasons are mostly because of school ending and finals and crap. But, well, now it's summer, so hopefully I can update wayyyy sooner, and be more consistent too.

Anyway. I've been talking for too long.

Here's your guys' update.

"Sam?" Dean called out, voice strangled. He raced around his room because for Pete's sake, where were his damn car keys? before realizing that they were, in fact, safely packed away in the pocket of his jeans.

"What, Dean? Are you okay?" Sam responded, bursting into Dean's bedroom where he stood in mild confusion for a few minutes before bursting into laughter.

"Not funny, Sam," Dean growled, helplessly flapping his arms at his sides.

Sam attempted sobering up, only to snort his way through another bout of laughter moments later.

Because, honestly. Dean's plaid shirt was inside out, with the collar half popped. He smelled strongly of soap and his hair was flattened to one side of his head. He had on one shoe and sock, whilst the other was missing, and another shoe was dangling from his left hand. Combining that with the look of sheer nervousness depicted on his brother's face... Well, even if Sam had been a stronger man, he still would've found it hilarious.

"You look as if you were given a makeover by a two-year-old."

"I'm not that bad! It wouldn't be a two-year-old. Maybe a slightly older anklebiter, say five... Oh, shut up and give me a hand here."

"I can help, sure," Sam snickered, clasping his chest dramatically. "But I sure as hell am not a miracle worker."

Dean made a face, sitting on his bed and pulling on a sock on his bare foot, and then the remaining shoe. "Har har. What time is it?"

"Six."

Dean exhaled through his nose, letting out a very loud and very relieved sigh. "Okay. At least I've got time. I pick Cas up at seven thirty."

"So that's what this is about? A date with Cas?"

"What the hell else would it be, Sammy?!" Dean exclaimed, exasperation eating at him.

Sam scratched the side of his face. "Dunno. Maybe you were gonna audition and appear on one of those How Not to Dress shows." At Dean's warning glare, Sam rolled his eyes. "Of course I know what this is about. I guess I just find it interesting how worried you are. This is Cas; the first time he met you, you were drunk off your ass. I think you'll be just fine."

Dean sighed again. "Not the best pep talk, but it'll have to do."