Cherry pie~Destiel

Cherry pie

"I just don't think its fair of you to blindside me with all the shitty stuff from our past without some kind of warning!" Dean protests, throwing the keys to 'Baby' down on to the shitty motel table. He shrugs of his jacket, irritated, and throws it onto a nearby chair. "In front of all our friends!"

"What am I supposed to do, Dean? Put all of that stuff to one side and never think about it again?" Cas asks, sounding incredulous. Dean rolls his eyes at the dramatic way that Cas is behaving. "Am I never allowed to bring it up, or speak about it, or even think about it incase it makes you feel guilty or miserable for a split second, is that right?"

"Obviously that's not what I'm saying, Cas." Dean says icily, crossing his arms. "You don't have to be so..so.."

"So what?" Cas prompts, one hand curled around his own set of motel keys, still.

Dean just glares, lips pressed into a thin slash across his chin. He's not going to finish that sentence. It wont do either of them any good; besides, he'd had a couple of glasses of wine.

They'd been out for a burger at a crap restaurant for Sammy's birthday. A place that they didn't know very well, menus they've never ordered from, but they were surrounded by friends that they both liked hanging around.

Dean has no idea why, on this occasion, things turned sour. Out of all the many ways Cas could have answered Charlie's innocent, funny question of 'what's the worst pick-up line you've tried on someone', he had to say 'well, that's a difficult one because for the last three years I've been in love with a man I rescued from hell. A man who until very recently, made it extremely clear that he didn't want me back. So, I've yet to try out what you call a 'pick-up' line'

His answer had stunned the table into an awkward hush. Dean had been so taken aback by the nonchalant way in which Cas casually dropped this information into the light-hearted conversation- with people who knew absolutely nothing about it, save for Sammy- that he'd actually choked on a piece of lettuce.

They all knew, of course, that Cas was talking about Dean. They must have.

Suddenly, remembering the stunted, jolty attempt people were forced to make to kick-start the conversation again, to move into safer territory, Dean doesn't feel quite so generous.

He decides to finish his sentence, after all.

"You don't have to be so childish about this whole thing" Dean says before he can think it through properly. "Its over now. Were together, you have me. Why are you insisting on picking at the scabs? And without so much as a hint that it was on your mind at all!"

"Childish?" Cas repeats, his voice soft and hurt.

Deans heart sinks, and he regrets the choice adjective immediately. "Cas, no, I didn't mea-"

But its too late to take it back. The word hangs in the air, taunting them both.

Dean scrambles to think of a way to repair the situation, but he's not fast enough. Cas, still wearing his trench coat, turns back the way he came, keys still clasped in his fist, and walks out of the door.

Fuck.

--------

Cas has no idea where he's going. He hadn't really thought further ahead than getting out of the motel before the argument turned even nastier.

That's the problem with arguing with Dean; he's a hothead. He gets it from John. He cant seem to catch the words in his mind long enough to think them through, he just spits them out, harsh and unfiltered, then regrets it.