Don't Tell Sammy

Chapter 4: Ice Cream, Ex-Lax, Frozen Yogurt

Castiel was shaky for a while, afraid to go too fast so they were crawling along, luckily alone on the road, but he got the controls down almost at once. The speed he soon mastered, shortly before the first turn, which Dean guided him through, placing one hand on the wheel to guide Cas through it, instructing him verbally as he did so, and then they made it around the curve without dying.

He had gotten the hang of it by the second, steeper turn and Dean went hands free this time. When they were about half a mile to the highway (okay, Cas was getting good pretty fast, but he definitely wasn't ready for that yet) they switched back.

'So what'd you think?' Dean asked, grinning expectantly.

'I enjoy driving,' Castiel decided. 'It's far slower than wings, but it's more fun. You're a good teacher, Dean.'

'Well, it's not my first time,' Dean shrugged. 'I taught Sam to drive too back in the day. You're better than he is, though. I taught him in dad's car just in case and he had a dent in it within the hour so the precaution paid off.'

'Yet you trusted me to drive in your car.'

'Hell, I'm trusting you to be my fake boyfriend, and you've gotta trust your boyfriend with your car.'

Castiel smiled at his lap so Dean hopefully wouldn't realize just how much that meant to him. The little things meant a lot to him, more than they would to anyone else, because of the obvious. The angel thing. The uncared about for years thing. And suddenly, this.

A sudden thought occurred to Castiel, one he was afraid to voice at first due to the whole ... thing from earlier, but he was going to tread more carefully this time.

'Can I ask you a question?'

'You just did.'

'Can I ask you another question ... after this one?'

Dean laughed, noting he'd picked up on it fast. Clever, clever man.

'Ask as many as you want.'

'You don't have to answer,' Castiel stressed, seeing Dean nod in response, 'but ... how come you can speak so freely and easily about this pretend relationship, yet when it comes to the reality of one aspect of the relationship you sort of ... close up?'

Dean paused for a while before he responded. He seemed to be thinking about his answer, or preparing himself to voice it.

'It's easier to talk about what's not real than what is. You and me are not a gay couple of writers so I have no problem saying it. But then when there's real stuff I'm not used to talking about I just ...'

'I understand,' Castiel nodded, and he did. He could easily see how a false reality would be easier to talk about than a real one. 'Then I'll try and restrain from bringing up what's real if that makes you more comfortable.'

'I appreciate that,' Dean told him, reaching sideways to pat his shoulder in a friendly gesture, 'but if there's something that really bugs you that you need to ask I guess that's fine. You know now you can talk to me about anything, don't you?'

'I'm learning that,' Castiel promised. 'And you can talk to me about anything. I'll answer to the best of my capabilities.'

'Great,' Dean nodded. 'Well, I have a question.'

'What's your question?'

'Who the fuck invented spiders?'

'... What?'

'Who up there took a box of parts and decided, "hey, let's make a creepy eight legged thing that everyone will hate!"?'

'Dean, that's not how it works.'