Angel Noir
Master List
“Yeah, I’ll be right there, Sammy. I’m just leaving the shop.” Dean Winchester waited a second for his brother’s acknowledgement before shoving his phone back into his pocket. He slipped on his leather jacket and locked up the shop, pocketing the keys. As much as he loved the shop, he was grateful he wouldn’t have to be back until Monday morning.
The Devil’s Pit was only a few blocks away so Dean decided to forgo driving (and paying for parking) and set off down the sidewalk. Walking would give him time to think about what the hell he was going to say to Sammy anyways…
Sam had finally ended his relationship with Jess, something that had been a long time coming, but hadn’t made it any easier for any of the parties involved. He had been telling Sam for months that he needed to re-evaluate things… and walking in there with an ‘I-told-you-so’ attitude wasn’t going to do any of them any favors. It wasn’t that Dean wanted his brother hurt, and if he believed that Jess and Sam could’ve continued being happy and successful, he would’ve supported them both. But they were slowly drowning, stuck in the past of their college-romance, when both of them were in completely different places. They just… hadn’t grown together. And, well, the straw that had broken the camel’s back was Jess finding Doctor what's-his-face… Dean had actually been shocked when Sam told him that bit of information.
So, Dean already suspected that by the time he arrived at the Pit, Sam would be three beers deep already and listening to Crowley drawl on about his ‘vexatious mother’ with rapt attention. Crowley was usually good for a few laughs, always up for anything Dean or Sam or any of the other regulars threw at him, but when he got going on his mother? That was when Dean threw in the towel.
Regardless, it would be nice to spend Friday nights with his brother again… In the past few weeks--hell, months-- that Sam and Jess were having problems, their Friday night brother nights were put on the back burner. Dean understood-- he’d managed to skip more than his fair share of Friday nights while he was with Lisa and during his short stint with Benny-- but he’d missed it, missed Sam, and even if his brother was miserable and pissed drunk before the sun even fully set? Dean would take it.
As Dean came around the corner to the block The Pit was on, he realized he hadn’t actually walked from the shop in a while. Last time he’d been at The Pit with Sam, Crowley had been bitching about something other than his mother: there was a new bar going up just a few shops down and Crowley would be damned if it took away his business.
As Dean neared it, he snorted to himself. Crowley would have no issues there… The Devil’s Pit was just what it said… a pit of cheap beer, cheaper entertainment, and an atmosphere that made your skin crawl the moment you stepped in the door. Hell, even after six years or so, Dean still wondered why the hell he continued going back. But the beer was good, the music was better, and he and Sam never had problems with any of the patrons. It was a good bar, a hole in the wall, but it was their. This place…
Dean looked up to the top of the doorway, a giant sign in the shape of a wing and painted all black had ‘Angel Noir’ written in swirling, silver ink. He wondered if that had been done knowing that the bar down the block depicted the devil. The rest of the bar front was brightly lit and from the windows, Dean could see paintings and candles and glass centerpieces with flowers. Flowers. In a freaking bar. Seriously.
It looked like a restaurant Dean would take a date to, not a place where he would go to drown his sorrows or kick back with Sammy and the guys. In short? Crowley had nothing too worry about. The door opened and a few stray piano notes floated out as a group of four came out, laughing and smiling, and Dean rolled his eyes. Of course this ‘bar’ would be playing classical music. He was sure the beer would be organic and six times more expensive than barley and hops had any right to be.
He stopped right before a chalkboard sign, wondering if they would be serving bacon wrapped scallops or pear, goat cheese and prosciutto bites when he was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a menu or drink specials, the sign was written in neat script, “the naked truth about our waitresses is they only flirt with you for better tips”, emphasis on ‘naked waitresses flirt with you’. Dean let out a small laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture of the sign to show Sam, and stepped around the sign, wondering what the best way to approach the subject of Crowley hiring naked waitresses and waiters would be...
Castiel stood behind the bar squinting at a woman who just asked him for a ‘Screaming Orgasm’. Gabriel laughed at his friends complete confusion and slid up beside him smiling. “I got this one Cassie,” he replied while wiggling his eyebrows at the girl, causing her to giggle. “I don't get off till 2 AM, so this will have to do,” Gabriel said while mixing up a fruity concoction. Once he was done and the girl walked away with a big smile on her face, Gabriel was pocketing her number. “Really Cassie? I don't know why you insist on tending bar on Fridays... you don't even know what half these drinks are.”
“I'm learning,” Castiel grumbled before throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders. “I have you to teach me.”
“Thank fuck for that!” Gabriel started laughing and walked over to help the next person. Castiel rolled his eyes and found someone else to help. Thank God it was a easy drink... a Rum and Coke he could definitely do.
What had he been thinking when he said he would tend bar on Fridays so his staff could have the night off? He knew nothing about mixing drinks. But he thought, how hard could it be? Really fuckin’ hard apparently, who knew there were so many types of drinks, or that everyone had their own way of making them, or that some of them were so lewd. Castiel sighed as a busty blonde ordered a Slippery Nipple. Slippery nipple? Really? What the fuck is that! He was so glad when he heard his sister's voice behind him.
“Step out of the way, big bro. I got this.” Castiel stepped back and watched Ruby work. She was a natural, but of course she had attended a two month bartending class to learn how to make all these absurd drinks. She had taken the class together with Gabriel. Now he wished he would have too. They tried to get him to, so the three of them could do it together, but the bar had just opened and Castiel couldn’t afford to take even a night off, never mind an entire four day weekend.
Though Gabriel was his best friend, he felt more like a brother, and he knew that Ruby thought of him the same way. Gabriel had been there for her just as much as Castiel had been when she hit rock bottom and needed them. So as far as Castiel and Ruby were concerned? Gabriel was family, the only family that either of them needed.
The later the night got, the more hectic it became. “Well it is a Friday night” Ruby so graciously reminded him, laughing as she looked at her brother’s mussed up hair, spiking in all directions from where he had ran his hands through it so many times that night. God, why can't these people order normal drinks or even a beer for fucks sake! Castiel thought as a woman ordered something called a ‘Pineapple Upside Down Cake’, and Castiel was convinced she was just yanking his chain.
He turned to look at Ruby who was laughing at his lost expression. “You make that nice gentleman a Jack and Coke and I will make this lovely lady a Pineapple Upside Down Cake.” Castiel smiled at his sister and gratefully switched places with her. The gentleman, however, did not look to happy about the change of bartenders. Castiel glared at him as he caught him staring at his sister's ass. He really needed to chill on being the overprotective big brother, especially at the bar, seeing as it was a bar and things like that happened all the time. Still... he didn't like Ruby being stared at as though she was a piece of meat.
When Castiel handed the guy his drink, he handed Castiel a napkin with his number on it, motioning for him to give to Ruby. He waited until the guy walked away before he ripped it up and threw it in the trash, the demolition more than necessary as if it would also destroy the sleazy look the guy gave Ruby’s backside.
By closing time, Castiel’s nerves were frazzled. He was more than glad when he shut the bar sign off and Gabriel ushered the last of the patrons from the bar. Castiel sat down at the bar-top and grabbed a bottle of the top shelf Jack, plus three shot glasses. Ruby and Gabriel took a seat, one on either side of him.
“Ohh God, I suck. I had no idea tending bar would be this hard. Thank you so much Gabe and Sis. I would have drowned without you guys tonight,” he groaned as he slid each of them their shot glasses.
Ruby poured them three shots and slid one to each of the boys. “You know Gabe and I always got your back.”
“Hell yeah we do, Cassie! And we can teach you how to be a pro in no time. You are only going to tend bar on Friday nights, but you are here every night. Just join me and Ruby when we are working and we will show you the ropes. I also still have the book from the class Ruby and I took... I will lend it to you and you can study it! We all know how you like your studying Cassie.”
Castiel smiled and grabbed the bottle of Jack, filling up their glasses one more. He raised his, Gabe and Ruby following suit. “To family and to the success of Angel Noir.” They clinked their glasses and slammed back the shot.
“Jesus Christ, Sammy,” Dean muttered, nearly engulfed by his younger brother’s frame. He shifted Sam’s weight on his shoulders, almost clinging to the arm Sam had slung over him and to Sam’s waist, trying to keep him from pitching to the ground. “You’re too damn heavy for this…”
“Dean!” Sam gasped, laughing as they stepped off of the sidewalk to cross the street, the step momentarily shocking Sam. “Dean, wait… wait, Dean! I lost… I think I lost my shoe…”
Dean stopped, the two of them standing in the middle of the road so he could peer down at their feet. Sure enough, Sam was only wearing one of his sneakers, his left toes wiggling in his sock as Sam snorted out a laugh again. “Fuck, Sam,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, come on… we’re almost to the car, then I’ll get your goddamn shoe.”
“It’s gone, Dean! Gone! Just… just like Jess…” The laughter in Sam’s voice was gone now, replaced with a gut wrenching sadness that Dean hated to hear in his brother’s voice more than anything else. They needed to get to the car. Now.
Struggling forward, Dean half dragged Sam to the Impala, trying to shush him as the tears his brother had fought so hard to keep back all night spilled forth. Dean knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, but he’d at least hoped they would have managed to get back to his apartment first…
“Sammy, come on. Dude, you have to get down, okay? I can’t… Fuck, Sam!” Dean winced as Sam clocked him one, trying to untangle himself from his brother’s body so slide into the front seat. Sam’s tear-filled eyes widened as he stared at his older brother rubbing the side of his head, wincing.
“Dean! Dean, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… God, I’m just… I just fuck everything up!” More tears spilled from Sam’s eyes as he slumped into the front seat, drawing his legs close to his chest. For a second, Dean wondered how the fuck Sam could get his gigantic frame folded up to look so small, but he pushed that away and slid in next to Sam, pulling his brother tight against his chest.
“It’s not your fault, Sammy. It’s fine, really. You just surprised me, that’s all. Not your fault you have arms like a goddamn tree. Now, shove over.” Sam mumbled something against the collar of Dean’s shirt, hands clenched in the back of Dean’s jacket as he clung to him. They sat like that for a few minutes -- Sam’s sobs racking his entire body and Dean rubbing soothing circles over Sam’s back until he calmed down. Tomorrow, they would never talk about this again -- Sam falling apart was rare enough as it was-- but Dean kind of loved moments like this, moments where Sam needed him more than anyone else. Call it a complex, but sometimes Dean needed to feel like he was important, like he was doing something right, at least for Sammy.
Finally, Sam pulled back, lifting up the bottom of his own t-shirt to wipe his face free. He sniffed once, voice thick and Dean knew that whatever he said he would have to be careful not to send Sam over the edge again.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam whispered, hands twisting in the damp fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t… didn’t think it would hit me this hard, I guess.”
“Sam… eight years is a long time to spend with someone. It’s… it’s not going to be easy, man, and I would think you were crazy if you expected that. But just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it was the wrong thing to do, okay?” Sam nodded once, another sniffle, and then gave Dean a small smile.
“I’m glad you’re here, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, when your punk ass little brother decides to haul ass across the country, you kind of have no choice but to haul your own ass after him.” Dean smiled, squeezing Sam’s shoulder once before slipping out of the car. “I’m gonna find your shoe, okay? Then we’ll go back to my place.”
Sam nodded, smile falling once again as he let out a long sigh. “I think Jess is going to keep the apartment…”
“Well…” Dean shrugged, leaning against the door as he bit his lower lip. “You’ll stay with me for a bit… couch isn’t too bad… and then we’ll figure it out, okay? Preferably when you’re sober and can remember this conversation.”
“Jerk,” Sam rolled his eyes, but the smile was back.
“Bitch,” Dean fired back, checking quickly that Sam’s legs and arms were still in before he pushed the door shut with a snap. “Be right back! And you better open the door if you’re gonna vomit!” he called and jogged back across the street, retracing their steps until he found Sam’s shoe. Thankfully, it slipped off right as they rounded the corner, the shop in view, and he hadn’t had to backtrack all the way back to The Pit. When he got back to the car, Sam was leaning against the door, long legs sprawled out across the seat, and snoring loudly.
Dean smiled to himself, shaking his head as he lifted Sam’s legs and slid underneath them. As he drove, Sam shifted, his heels digging into Dean’s thigh and Dean was going to have to remind him that Sam was damn lucky Dean loved him so much. Spoiled fucking brat. At least if he was passed out, there was less of a chance Sam would puke his guts all over the inside of Baby… Dean patted Sam’s thigh once, wondering how the fuck he was going to get his brother up the three flights of stairs and into his apartment…
Chapter Two
“Yeah, I’ll be right there, Sammy. I’m just leaving the shop.” Dean Winchester waited a second for his brother’s acknowledgement before shoving his phone back into his pocket. He slipped on his leather jacket and locked up the shop, pocketing the keys. As much as he loved the shop, he was grateful he wouldn’t have to be back until Monday morning.
The Devil’s Pit was only a few blocks away so Dean decided to forgo driving (and paying for parking) and set off down the sidewalk. Walking would give him time to think about what the hell he was going to say to Sammy anyways…
Sam had finally ended his relationship with Jess, something that had been a long time coming, but hadn’t made it any easier for any of the parties involved. He had been telling Sam for months that he needed to re-evaluate things… and walking in there with an ‘I-told-you-so’ attitude wasn’t going to do any of them any favors. It wasn’t that Dean wanted his brother hurt, and if he believed that Jess and Sam could’ve continued being happy and successful, he would’ve supported them both. But they were slowly drowning, stuck in the past of their college-romance, when both of them were in completely different places. They just… hadn’t grown together. And, well, the straw that had broken the camel’s back was Jess finding Doctor what's-his-face… Dean had actually been shocked when Sam told him that bit of information.
So, Dean already suspected that by the time he arrived at the Pit, Sam would be three beers deep already and listening to Crowley drawl on about his ‘vexatious mother’ with rapt attention. Crowley was usually good for a few laughs, always up for anything Dean or Sam or any of the other regulars threw at him, but when he got going on his mother? That was when Dean threw in the towel.
Regardless, it would be nice to spend Friday nights with his brother again… In the past few weeks--hell, months-- that Sam and Jess were having problems, their Friday night brother nights were put on the back burner. Dean understood-- he’d managed to skip more than his fair share of Friday nights while he was with Lisa and during his short stint with Benny-- but he’d missed it, missed Sam, and even if his brother was miserable and pissed drunk before the sun even fully set? Dean would take it.
As Dean came around the corner to the block The Pit was on, he realized he hadn’t actually walked from the shop in a while. Last time he’d been at The Pit with Sam, Crowley had been bitching about something other than his mother: there was a new bar going up just a few shops down and Crowley would be damned if it took away his business.
As Dean neared it, he snorted to himself. Crowley would have no issues there… The Devil’s Pit was just what it said… a pit of cheap beer, cheaper entertainment, and an atmosphere that made your skin crawl the moment you stepped in the door. Hell, even after six years or so, Dean still wondered why the hell he continued going back. But the beer was good, the music was better, and he and Sam never had problems with any of the patrons. It was a good bar, a hole in the wall, but it was their. This place…
Dean looked up to the top of the doorway, a giant sign in the shape of a wing and painted all black had ‘Angel Noir’ written in swirling, silver ink. He wondered if that had been done knowing that the bar down the block depicted the devil. The rest of the bar front was brightly lit and from the windows, Dean could see paintings and candles and glass centerpieces with flowers. Flowers. In a freaking bar. Seriously.
It looked like a restaurant Dean would take a date to, not a place where he would go to drown his sorrows or kick back with Sammy and the guys. In short? Crowley had nothing too worry about. The door opened and a few stray piano notes floated out as a group of four came out, laughing and smiling, and Dean rolled his eyes. Of course this ‘bar’ would be playing classical music. He was sure the beer would be organic and six times more expensive than barley and hops had any right to be.
He stopped right before a chalkboard sign, wondering if they would be serving bacon wrapped scallops or pear, goat cheese and prosciutto bites when he was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a menu or drink specials, the sign was written in neat script, “the naked truth about our waitresses is they only flirt with you for better tips”, emphasis on ‘naked waitresses flirt with you’. Dean let out a small laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture of the sign to show Sam, and stepped around the sign, wondering what the best way to approach the subject of Crowley hiring naked waitresses and waiters would be...
Castiel stood behind the bar squinting at a woman who just asked him for a ‘Screaming Orgasm’. Gabriel laughed at his friends complete confusion and slid up beside him smiling. “I got this one Cassie,” he replied while wiggling his eyebrows at the girl, causing her to giggle. “I don't get off till 2 AM, so this will have to do,” Gabriel said while mixing up a fruity concoction. Once he was done and the girl walked away with a big smile on her face, Gabriel was pocketing her number. “Really Cassie? I don't know why you insist on tending bar on Fridays... you don't even know what half these drinks are.”
“I'm learning,” Castiel grumbled before throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders. “I have you to teach me.”
“Thank fuck for that!” Gabriel started laughing and walked over to help the next person. Castiel rolled his eyes and found someone else to help. Thank God it was a easy drink... a Rum and Coke he could definitely do.
What had he been thinking when he said he would tend bar on Fridays so his staff could have the night off? He knew nothing about mixing drinks. But he thought, how hard could it be? Really fuckin’ hard apparently, who knew there were so many types of drinks, or that everyone had their own way of making them, or that some of them were so lewd. Castiel sighed as a busty blonde ordered a Slippery Nipple. Slippery nipple? Really? What the fuck is that! He was so glad when he heard his sister's voice behind him.
“Step out of the way, big bro. I got this.” Castiel stepped back and watched Ruby work. She was a natural, but of course she had attended a two month bartending class to learn how to make all these absurd drinks. She had taken the class together with Gabriel. Now he wished he would have too. They tried to get him to, so the three of them could do it together, but the bar had just opened and Castiel couldn’t afford to take even a night off, never mind an entire four day weekend.
Though Gabriel was his best friend, he felt more like a brother, and he knew that Ruby thought of him the same way. Gabriel had been there for her just as much as Castiel had been when she hit rock bottom and needed them. So as far as Castiel and Ruby were concerned? Gabriel was family, the only family that either of them needed.
The later the night got, the more hectic it became. “Well it is a Friday night” Ruby so graciously reminded him, laughing as she looked at her brother’s mussed up hair, spiking in all directions from where he had ran his hands through it so many times that night. God, why can't these people order normal drinks or even a beer for fucks sake! Castiel thought as a woman ordered something called a ‘Pineapple Upside Down Cake’, and Castiel was convinced she was just yanking his chain.
He turned to look at Ruby who was laughing at his lost expression. “You make that nice gentleman a Jack and Coke and I will make this lovely lady a Pineapple Upside Down Cake.” Castiel smiled at his sister and gratefully switched places with her. The gentleman, however, did not look to happy about the change of bartenders. Castiel glared at him as he caught him staring at his sister's ass. He really needed to chill on being the overprotective big brother, especially at the bar, seeing as it was a bar and things like that happened all the time. Still... he didn't like Ruby being stared at as though she was a piece of meat.
When Castiel handed the guy his drink, he handed Castiel a napkin with his number on it, motioning for him to give to Ruby. He waited until the guy walked away before he ripped it up and threw it in the trash, the demolition more than necessary as if it would also destroy the sleazy look the guy gave Ruby’s backside.
By closing time, Castiel’s nerves were frazzled. He was more than glad when he shut the bar sign off and Gabriel ushered the last of the patrons from the bar. Castiel sat down at the bar-top and grabbed a bottle of the top shelf Jack, plus three shot glasses. Ruby and Gabriel took a seat, one on either side of him.
“Ohh God, I suck. I had no idea tending bar would be this hard. Thank you so much Gabe and Sis. I would have drowned without you guys tonight,” he groaned as he slid each of them their shot glasses.
Ruby poured them three shots and slid one to each of the boys. “You know Gabe and I always got your back.”
“Hell yeah we do, Cassie! And we can teach you how to be a pro in no time. You are only going to tend bar on Friday nights, but you are here every night. Just join me and Ruby when we are working and we will show you the ropes. I also still have the book from the class Ruby and I took... I will lend it to you and you can study it! We all know how you like your studying Cassie.”
Castiel smiled and grabbed the bottle of Jack, filling up their glasses one more. He raised his, Gabe and Ruby following suit. “To family and to the success of Angel Noir.” They clinked their glasses and slammed back the shot.
“Jesus Christ, Sammy,” Dean muttered, nearly engulfed by his younger brother’s frame. He shifted Sam’s weight on his shoulders, almost clinging to the arm Sam had slung over him and to Sam’s waist, trying to keep him from pitching to the ground. “You’re too damn heavy for this…”
“Dean!” Sam gasped, laughing as they stepped off of the sidewalk to cross the street, the step momentarily shocking Sam. “Dean, wait… wait, Dean! I lost… I think I lost my shoe…”
Dean stopped, the two of them standing in the middle of the road so he could peer down at their feet. Sure enough, Sam was only wearing one of his sneakers, his left toes wiggling in his sock as Sam snorted out a laugh again. “Fuck, Sam,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, come on… we’re almost to the car, then I’ll get your goddamn shoe.”
“It’s gone, Dean! Gone! Just… just like Jess…” The laughter in Sam’s voice was gone now, replaced with a gut wrenching sadness that Dean hated to hear in his brother’s voice more than anything else. They needed to get to the car. Now.
Struggling forward, Dean half dragged Sam to the Impala, trying to shush him as the tears his brother had fought so hard to keep back all night spilled forth. Dean knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, but he’d at least hoped they would have managed to get back to his apartment first…
“Sammy, come on. Dude, you have to get down, okay? I can’t… Fuck, Sam!” Dean winced as Sam clocked him one, trying to untangle himself from his brother’s body so slide into the front seat. Sam’s tear-filled eyes widened as he stared at his older brother rubbing the side of his head, wincing.
“Dean! Dean, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… God, I’m just… I just fuck everything up!” More tears spilled from Sam’s eyes as he slumped into the front seat, drawing his legs close to his chest. For a second, Dean wondered how the fuck Sam could get his gigantic frame folded up to look so small, but he pushed that away and slid in next to Sam, pulling his brother tight against his chest.
“It’s not your fault, Sammy. It’s fine, really. You just surprised me, that’s all. Not your fault you have arms like a goddamn tree. Now, shove over.” Sam mumbled something against the collar of Dean’s shirt, hands clenched in the back of Dean’s jacket as he clung to him. They sat like that for a few minutes -- Sam’s sobs racking his entire body and Dean rubbing soothing circles over Sam’s back until he calmed down. Tomorrow, they would never talk about this again -- Sam falling apart was rare enough as it was-- but Dean kind of loved moments like this, moments where Sam needed him more than anyone else. Call it a complex, but sometimes Dean needed to feel like he was important, like he was doing something right, at least for Sammy.
Finally, Sam pulled back, lifting up the bottom of his own t-shirt to wipe his face free. He sniffed once, voice thick and Dean knew that whatever he said he would have to be careful not to send Sam over the edge again.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam whispered, hands twisting in the damp fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t… didn’t think it would hit me this hard, I guess.”
“Sam… eight years is a long time to spend with someone. It’s… it’s not going to be easy, man, and I would think you were crazy if you expected that. But just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it was the wrong thing to do, okay?” Sam nodded once, another sniffle, and then gave Dean a small smile.
“I’m glad you’re here, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, when your punk ass little brother decides to haul ass across the country, you kind of have no choice but to haul your own ass after him.” Dean smiled, squeezing Sam’s shoulder once before slipping out of the car. “I’m gonna find your shoe, okay? Then we’ll go back to my place.”
Sam nodded, smile falling once again as he let out a long sigh. “I think Jess is going to keep the apartment…”
“Well…” Dean shrugged, leaning against the door as he bit his lower lip. “You’ll stay with me for a bit… couch isn’t too bad… and then we’ll figure it out, okay? Preferably when you’re sober and can remember this conversation.”
“Jerk,” Sam rolled his eyes, but the smile was back.
“Bitch,” Dean fired back, checking quickly that Sam’s legs and arms were still in before he pushed the door shut with a snap. “Be right back! And you better open the door if you’re gonna vomit!” he called and jogged back across the street, retracing their steps until he found Sam’s shoe. Thankfully, it slipped off right as they rounded the corner, the shop in view, and he hadn’t had to backtrack all the way back to The Pit. When he got back to the car, Sam was leaning against the door, long legs sprawled out across the seat, and snoring loudly.
Dean smiled to himself, shaking his head as he lifted Sam’s legs and slid underneath them. As he drove, Sam shifted, his heels digging into Dean’s thigh and Dean was going to have to remind him that Sam was damn lucky Dean loved him so much. Spoiled fucking brat. At least if he was passed out, there was less of a chance Sam would puke his guts all over the inside of Baby… Dean patted Sam’s thigh once, wondering how the fuck he was going to get his brother up the three flights of stairs and into his apartment…
Chapter Two