Barrow Gang Chapter Four
Not beta'd.
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The Highland Park neighborhood of Dallas was one of those places that Dean never felt comfortable in. Clean streets and picket fences with manicured lawns, and large homes with luxury cars sitting in the circular driveways. So picture fucking perfect it made Dean want to puke.
Where Dean and Sam had grown up was a far cry from the beauty of this place. When he was little his neighbors had been drug addicts and drunks and Dean had never been able to walk about by himself because none of those junkies had scruples and stealing from a kid was acceptable as long as it would get them their high.
"You know we could just get a motel room." Sam said as he looked out the passenger window at the large Victorian manor with its wrap around porch and large bay windows. The little kitten in his lap wiggling with restlessness.
The feline had been wandering in the middle of the street when they found it. Dean had almost ran it over when Sam pointed it out to him, Dean was still going to run it over (because if it wasn’t smart enough to move out of the way then it didn’t deserve to live), but Sam had made the suggestion that they could use it. Sometimes his baby bro had good ideas.
"Not tonight we can’t," Dean said, catching sight of Castiel in the review mirror. His pretty angel was asleep; his trench coat was being used as a make-shift pillow, his suit jacket had long since been taken off, and his neck-tie was loose around his neck. He looked so innocent. Not like the slut Dean new he was. The murder Dean had made him.
"Tonight is special Sammy. I don’t want my first time fucking Cas to be on some stained motel bed."
Sam pulled a face and made some more gagging noises.
Dean chuckled.
"I don’t know why I put up with you?" Sam said.
"You put up with me because you have to. Besides who are you to complain? I’m the one that has to put up with your gassiness." Dean said. "And that shits deadly."
"Oh, like you’re any better with your beer farts."
"That is not the same thing. It’s not even close."
"So you say."
"I really do."
They were quite for a moment while Sam petted the cat.
"We’ve got to think about pulling another job soon, seeing as how the last one didn’t exactly go to plan." Sam said.
And they were back to Cas again. Dean had wondered when Sam would start, the fact that Cas had been awoke for most of the ride was the only reason Sam hadn’t said anything earlier.
"Yeah." Dean breathed out watching the movement of Cas’ chest rise and fall.
"Maybe when you get rid of your new pet." His tone was a little scornful. Sam had never been one for change, and he didn’t really like new people - especially people he thought of as a threat to his relationship with Dean. And not in that kind of a way, it was just that Dean was all Sam had, and vice versa. They didn’t really know how to act when someone came between them.
"I’m not getting rid of Cas." Dean said. Cas was his now, and Dean wasn’t ever going to let him go.
Apparently Sam didn’t believe that, because he rolled his eyes and scoffed.
"I’m serious."
"What, you want a relationship with him or something?" The way Sam said it made it sound like the stupidest idea in the world.
"And if I do,"
"Oh come on Dean," Sam said. "He’s pretty I’ll admit to that, but you don’t do relationships. Neither of us does."
Yeah, but that was because no one else could possibly understand them….except for Cas. And maybe Dean was wrong, maybe his mind was clouded by desire and once he got his dick in Cas’ ass he wouldn’t want the man anymore…maybe, but he sorely doubt it.
"Maybe I don’t do relationships, but I do Cas," Because the image of how Castiel had looked sucking on his gun was frozen in his mind, how he had held the same gun and pulled the trigger with no hesitation just because Dean had told him to. How Cas’ body had quivered against his own as the man came from killing. Dean couldn’t give that up, he wouldn’t. "or at least I will as soon as you get your ass out of the car and get this show on the road."
Sam sighed.
"This isn’t over." He warned Dean.
"Of course not. Now get to work bitch."
"Fucking jerk." Sam said as he opened the Impala’s door and stepped out of the car.
Shifting in the driver seat of the Impala, Dean watched as his little brother galloped across the street. For such a large guy Sam knew how to be quick and move with grace, as he crossed under the hanging lamp of a wrought iron street light. the white head of the kitten tucked in his arms peeked over his shoulder.
"What is Sam doing Dean?" Castiel asked from the back seat, his eyelids were low from sleep; he looked like a rumpled mess. A sexy rumpled mess. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up. Dean wondered how long he had been awake.
"Hmm," Dean said half-asleep himself. His body ached and the need to have Castiel beneath him, bare and legs spread wide had not left him. Desire hummed under his skin, making the tips of his fingers tingle until he had to tap them against the steering wheel in search of relief.
"Sam," Castiel insisted. "Why does he have the kitten?"
"Because people like kittens, shit if I know why, especially these people."
"How do you know that?" Castiel inquired, crowding closer to the back of the driver seat.
"You see that sticker on the back window of the car there?" Dean pointed at which car he meant, the BMW parked in the paved driveway of the house that Sam was currently heading towards. The sticker was barely visible in the limited light provided by the street lamp, but Cas nodded anyway.
"Yes."
"It’s an SPCA sticker. Animal rescue league. Means they’re saps for balls of fluff."
After a moment Cas said. "So, Sam’s going to use the kitten to get the people in the house to open the door?"
Dean smiled, turning his head so that he could catch a glimpse of his pretty boy.
"You’re a quick study gorgeous."
Cas damn near purred at the compliment.
"But why Sam?" he asked.
"People buy Sam in the innocent role," Dean shrugged. "It just goes to show that the rest of society is a bunch of fucking morons."
Cas hummed, "I think it’s the hair."
Dean laughed a short, harsh sound that was quickly abbreviated as the porch light of the house Sam was approaching flicked on, a moment later the door was opened by a woman with dark hair and pretty pale skin. There was a moment of conversation between the two, concern and worry mixed with a bit of skepticism playing on the woman’s face. Dean was just thinking that they’d end up having to do this the hard way when the woman stepped back to allowed Sam inside the house.
"Here we go," Dean said, pushing the Impala’s door open. He went to the truck and took out a duffel bag filled with his clothing. Unzipping it, he placed lengths of winding rope on top of the neatly folded clothing; obviously Sam’s doing, along with rolls of duct-tape, hypodermic needles, and extra ammo for his Eagle. He grabbed another duffel full of Sam’s belongings, before shutting the trunk and going to open the back door. "Come on gorgeous, I think it’s about time that I properly fucked you."
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Dean opened the door to a large entry way with polished wood flooring and smoky grey walls with happy family pictures adorning them. A cat twines between his feet as he strides towards the sound of Sam’s voice when the other man called out to them, making sure to keep Castiel’s hand in his.
His pretty angel is looking around with wide eyes, trailing the tip of one finger over the picture frames with the smiling faces looking back at them. The pretty mother and the handsome father and their two kids, both appearing to be no older than thirteen, that look like models. Dean hates them, some might say that what he was feeling was envy, and maybe it was, so what….he was the one with the gun after all.
"Are we going to kill them?" Cas asked, crowding close to Dean’s back, running his hand down Dean’s chest to the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans.
"Do you want to?"
"Yes." Cas says, skimming his lips along the column of Dean’s neck as he fingers the bunt of the gun.
Dean wonders where the hell Cas had been all his life, because his gorgeous angel had to have been made just for him.
They come to a stop in the doorway of a living area, something which others might call a den but Dean doesn’t give a fuck about all that as long as it had a TV and cable. The mom and daughter are huddled together on the sofa with the dad’s arms stretched out over them. There’s someone missing.
"Where’s your son?" Dean asked, stepping down into the room and any from Cas.
"He’s not here." The man answered, glancing uneasily at Sam who was sitting on the end of the coffee table, his Beretta pointed at the family.
Dean didn’t believe him for a moment. He pulled his gun from his waistband and handed it to Cas. "Go make sure he’s really not here."
"And if he is?"
"Shoot him."
The woman gasped and turned pleading eyes on her husband.
"Wait!" The man called out just as Cas was turning to leave the room. "I’ll tell you where he is, just don’t hurt him."
"Where is he?" Dean asked.
"In his bedroom, hiding in the closet."
"If you’re lying…."
"I’m not, I swear." The man said, tears glistening in his eyes.
"Did he call someone?"
"I, I don’t think so." The man answered.
"If he called the police, I promise you that you and your family will die,"
"You can check!" The man said hurriedly. "On that phone there," He nodded pass Dean to the entertainment center.
Dean turned, picked up the phone.
"Press the menu button and then dialed calls, it’ll show you any outgoing calls."
Dean did as the man had said; noting that the last outgoing call was over two hours ago and the last incoming was thirty minutes before.
"Did you get there cells?" He asked Sam as he sat the phone back in its cradle.
Bitch face number four. "Of course Dean. It’s not my first rodeo."
Dean snorted. Maybe not but when kids were involved Sam didn’t always think straight.
He turned to look at Cas who was petting the gun lovingly.
"Go and get him gorgeous."
"Can I still shoot him?" Cas inquired fingering the gun.
The mom whimpered while the daughter glared murderously at his angel.
"Nah. Just bring him here."
Castiel looked disappointed, and Dean found that he hadn’t the crestfallen look on his face, but nodded and said, "Yes Dean." Like the good boy he was. Dean would have to award him for his obedience later.
"Why?" The woman asked barely above a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because we can." Dean answered as he sat down his duffel and took out the rope along with the duct tape and needles. He handed the needles to Sam and began to unwind the rope, "Now be good for me and you might live through the night."