Collection of Destiel

Broken (Fluff)

This is punkDean and just Cas I guess. Anyway, it is major fluff and there is hints at Sabriel. I kind of like how it ended up and I hope you enjoy it too. Leave a comment or vote. Always nice to hear what you lovely people think.

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“Son of a bitch.” Dean groaned in distaste as his engine spurted and inwardly died out. Slamming his hands on the steering wheel he slumped back into his seat in utter exhaustion. He had worked on his baby, his ’67 Chevy Impala, for what felt like an eternity. In his wildest dreams he prayed she would purr to life for him, but disappointment quickly grabbed hold of him. He had to be at the garage in thirty minutes or Bobby would chew him out for being late to work going on three days now.

“Dean!” Sam screamed from inside their house. “Dad’s on the phone and he is pissed!”

“Tell him to bite me!” Dean called back as he let his head smash back on the headrest. All he needed was for another heated argument with his wayward father. He hadn’t seen the guy in ten months. Although, his father called every day to check up on Sam. Dean was the one who packed the two of them up and moved them across the country. Dean couldn’t handle Sam’s misery when their father was gone twenty days out of every month and came home drunk and mean.

“I am most certainly not.” Sam appeared in the doorway of their garage. He pressed the phone to his chest and sported a nice set of white knuckles. Sammy was turning eighteen in a month and Dean knew that he was in for a wild ride. Sam was already growing his hair out like a stoner and hanging out with this kid who he didn’t particularly like.

“Well, I have nothing to say and you know that.” Dean trudged out of his car and shut the door. No matter how angry he was at it, he still couldn’t find the heart to slam it. His eyes gazed up and met Sam’s. “Can I borrow your car to get to work?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gabe is picking me up in about an hour and we are going over to the mall. I won’t be back until late.” His eyes fell on the impala. “Still no luck?”

“Nope.” Dean sighed and started past Sam and toward the house to change. “And that’s fine. Tell Gabe I said hello.”

“I will. Dad says hi.” Sam whispered it hoping Dean hadn’t heard. He was still walking on eggshells when he talked between them.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tell him that I told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Then he left before he could get trapped in anymore drama that was wrapped around their father. He waltzed into their small quaint house and took the stairs two at a time. Already in a foul mood over the car, he slammed the door to his room and exhaled loudly.

Ripping out an old ACDC tour shirt, he quickly discarded his sweat riddled one in his laundry basket that was exploding. Laundry this week was Sam’s, and Dean’s was dishes and running the vacuum. He loved their simple routine and wasn’t looking forward to the day Sam would move out and he would be on his own.

Standing in front of his mirror he looked over his face. Working on the car did a number on him. His once short blue Mohawk was leaning a little to the left. He quickly grabbed some gel and fixed it. Then his gaze fell on his smeared eyeliner and he just let it do. It looked more endearing when it was smudged up. He added a few of his facial piercings and made sure to stick his tongue one in. Bobby had a fit when he had it done and it made Dean smile every time Bobby made a fuss over it.

Next he looked over his tattoos. He was well on his way to both arms having full sleeves. Mostly he had funny little band logos or song lyrics. A couple were ancient proverbs that made him chuckle or tear up. His favorite tattoo by far was the protection symbol he had gotten over his heart. It had been a set with Sam when he turned seventeen. Dean was proud of it and showed it off in muscle shirts as much as he could. He checked them over because sometimes grease would smudge over them and either cover them up, or make them look stupid. But he was all good today. Minimal grease damage to him.