The Hand He Had Been Dealt | Destiel

Alone Together

Dean rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and his thumb, a hesitant sigh leaving his throat as he listened to the excuses his boss had. No matter how far in advance he asked to get off work, he never budged, which Dean found absolutely ridiculous. His boss had no problems giving the teenagers that worked there a day or two off per month, but he couldn't get off work for one damn day?

Dean only caught the last little bit of the excuse, but it was enough to know it was the dumbest one yet, "You're saying I can't get off for Sam's birthday next week because you don't want to make Harley work?" Dean reiterated, nearly snarling when his boss stumbled over his words to try and make the excuse better. Dean just hung up, nearly slamming his phone on the table as he looked to his little brother, who ate applesauce without any indication of knowing something was wrong.

Hopefully, Sam wouldn't hold it against him.

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Dean swears, between Castiel and Sam, he never got to keep his thoughts to himself. He had thought he was doing a good job hiding his frustration from the two of them but obviously not, because Castiel cornered him in the kitchen of Castiel's house when he was dropping off Sam.

"Sam has been worried about you. He says you're upset," Castiel stated, his eyes narrowed as Dean shifted his gaze to the side, not wanting to meet the scrutiny of that icy blue stare.

"There's nothing wrong, Castiel. Sam thinks I'm upset if I don't make whipped cream once a week and have a fight with him," Dean countered, though he knew it was a losing battle when Castiel's expression didn't change.

"You had the whipped cream fight Tuesday," Castiel commented, as if that was a solid argument against what Dean had just said, "Is it because Sam's birthday is approaching?"

Dean flinched, too late to catch it, and he let his head lower when he realized he wasn't going to talk his way out of this one, "I can't get off for his birthday, okay? They're making me work late, so he won't even be awake when I get back," Dean finally spat out, his hands reaching behind him to grip the counter and giving Castiel a look, "Now can I go, or are you going to interrogate me some more?"

"You can go, but I would advise you to calm down before you say goodbye to Sam," Castiel cautioned, stepping to the side to let Dean pass by. Dean gave him a small glance, as close to an apology as he was going to give the man before he walked into the living room, managing to school his face into a happy one as he hugged Sam goodbye for the day.

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Dean didn't reach Castiel's house until nine at night on Sam's birthday, his feet dragging as he dreaded going through that front door. He already knew that Sam would be upset when he woke up the next morning, if he didn't wake up that night to throw a fit. He did a soft knock, not loud enough to wake his brother, but to just let Castiel know he was coming in before stepping through the door, a yawn leaving his lips as he headed into the kitchen where Castiel should be drinking his nightly tea.

Instead, he found Castiel and Sam sitting at the table, different foods, all Sam's favorites, spread out in front of them. A cake sat in the middle, decorated in green and not yet touched. Both of them looked up when Dean walked in, Sam's face lighting like a Christmas tree before he was reaching for Dean with both hands.