a l c o h o l & l o v e ↬ d.w. & c.n. [completed]

act 2 - 4 | adam's apple

after dean heard the door snap shut, it must've been around an hour later, the boys had just sat inside his bedroom, whispering as quiet as possible, his feet brought him up to his window frame almost automatically. 
   then just a few seconds later, again, he heard the hollowing click of the main entrance echoing trough the nearly empty streets. and soon after the deep, dark purr of his father's impala taking off.  

the fact that the old car was running like a new one, and still had all four wheels attached to her body, was a miracle after all. years back dean had hoped to be her owner, at some point. only now his father was driving her like the crazy maniac he surely was.

   whenever he heard the rubber pressing against the cold asphalt, he knew that a mostly calm night would follow, and that, whenever his father, john, would find his way home late at night or early in the morning, the car would rush in circles.

the drunk driver always found the way into the garage, without crashing against a wall.
   even sometimes dean wished it would be different. 

as soon as the winchester wasn't able to hear the fast car anymore, he breathed out a huge wave of air, that had rested inside his lungs, for, what felt like, the past hour.
   "we can talk normally now," he announced as his body turned around and away from the window, which showed nothing but grays and blacks around the street. everything was asphalt, nothing was nature, nor appealing, for that matter. 

"okay, but i still don't get why we weren't allowed to talk like this."

   castiel, with black hair sticking out from under his neon-orange beanie, threw his head back against the grayish wall, emphasizing his, constantly, present adam's apple even more. 

as he sighed, and a stream of oxygen left his lungs, making his voluminous lips shaking overblown, his shoulders dropped low and every muscle inside his body seemed to loosen up as well. 
he sat cross-legged on dean's bed, his folded hands resting on his lap, yet his posture nearly disappeared completely inside the wool of his way too big, blue sweater.

   "because then john would've noticed that i'm not alone."
"ye, yeah. but why would that be so bad."

   dean looked at castiel with one single eyebrow raised, speaking 'seriously?' 

HIS EYES FOCUSED ON HIS BODY, STARED REALLY, AND AS CASTIEL LET HIS HEAD FALL FORWARD TO LOOK AT DEAN, AND WHY HE HAD STOPPED TALKING, HIS EYES CHANGED POSITION HESITANTLY.

"because" he began in a raspy voice, but coughed slightly soon after.
now castiel rose his eyebrows in confusion, yet he tried to hold back a laugh, too.
   "because that man is a psychopath and hates everybody."

"i could just be a friend from school or something."
"he's a psychopath, not blind." dean laughed.

   "now you hurt my feelings." castiel spoke in a serious voice, making dean's eyes widen in slight uncertainty, fearing that he had chosen all the wrong words, yet his friend, the second he saw dean's expression, burst out laughing. 

immediately dean's hard facial traits loosened again "bastard." he said in a low voice, more to himself.
   "you bastard.", directing his words to castiel now, laughing as well.

as they calmed down castiel asked, "but seriously, what did you mean."

   "casino, look at you. you're not from my school. even your clothes scream moneyyy."

"is that why you call me casino?"

"no, i do that because it annoys you, and that entertains me."