A/N: Another chapter. This story is mainly for my own amusement and to keep me sane while I'm writing TLL. So here's another chapter. Next chapter I'll be introducing an OC- I personally hate it, but I need it to happen. Anyways, I'll update again when TLL has another chapter. Happy reading, please review/give feedback. This story is unbetaed by the way. All mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Chapter 5- Blindfolds and Boners

His body felt lethargic, like he was completely drained of any energy. Dean couldn't even summon the strength to open his eyes or to move his arm so he could pick at the painfully twitch at the back of his head. He shifted to rid his body of soreness, and his muscles cried because of lack of use. When his weight shifted, Dean immediately knew that he was in a bathtub from the sounds of sloshing water when he moved. There was light dripping somewhere above his head, Dean hoped it was a leaky shower head and not some dead body hanging over him.

When his legs brushed against something warm that had a familiar shape; his breathing grew steady with his hunter insights on. He felt two firm legs that laced around his, he felt a thud of a heartbeat through his back, and he felt a muscular arm tense around his midsection. Dean wished he had the energy to open his eyes but he relaxed with a soft sigh. His reasoning being, if someone had wanted to kill him, they would have done so already. The tension of his muscles flowed down and his shapely ass pressed against something hard and throbbing from the mere contact. Dean bit back a surprising moan by trapping his bottom lip within his teeth. Again, his body automatically pressed down to get more of the pleasure that rushed over his skin.

The pressure was harder this time, earning Dean a low gasp by his left ear. Dean trembled from the warm breath, sending gooseflesh over his body before realizing what was happening. "Sam?" questioned Dean before adding, "This is crossing the line of uncomfortable right about now. Your boner is pushing against my ass."

His voice sounded unrecognizable to him with the low, almost raspy tone as his words bounced around the room that he assumed was the bathroom. "Dean?" came Sam's voice sounding muffled with some distance, before he heard something click open. Dean turned his head straight to the noise and opened his eyes. Only to see,a dark stripe across his eyes, with a small light across his nose.

Confusion crossed over his features as Dean croaked, "Sam?" from his raw and scratchy throat. Dean heard approaching footsteps and his hand went to fidget with the annoying throbbing on the back of his head. His fingers picked at a hard knot before they were gently brushed them away. Dean knew what his problem was immediately. And people say that he's only a pretty face. Bastards.

"Dude, am I freakin' blindfolded? Why am I freakin' blindfolded?" asked Dean as he whirled his head around to find Sam in the room so he could give his younger brother the glare down of his life. Obviously, he couldn't see, so that plan wouldn't work. He could only what kind of look Sammy was giving him at the moment. Though before he could start fully bitching about being blindfolded, Sam spoke.

"It's for your own good," replied Sam with a higher-pitch tone which made Dean jump from the proximity. He hadn't expected Sam to be that close. The sound made Dean's eyes narrow behind the cloth, because he recognized that tone. Sam was nervous.

"My own good?" parroted Dean carefully, his disbelief made his voice hitch just a bit higher. His fingers went back to the tight knot at the back of his head as he continued to rant, "Just what the hell is that suppose to mean? For my own good? How is this-" Dean yanked at the knot, "For my own good?"

Then he heard Sam sigh and Dean knew without seeing that Sam had his usual, signature bitchface on. "It means," started Sam, "Until you stop trying to molest Castiel and dying every time you look at him, you're wearing the blindfold."

Without a doubt, Dean's head swirled as heat flushed over his cheeks and around his ears. "I wasn't trying to molest Cas!" he denied loudly.

His unconvincing cry echoed through the small bathroom. Oh, but Dean knew it was a lie. There was something about Cas that made him want to take the angel of the lord apart by the touch of his hands, mouth or other parts of his body. Dean fully enjoyed knowing that he flustered Cas against the wall, even if the smaller man had tried to resist him but the levee broke three weeks ago. He knew it was a matter of time before Castiel, the angel of the lord would dry hump him into the ratty motel mattress again.

Tremors of pleasure coursed over his skin as Dean reflected back to all of the "molestations." Dean only gave as good as he got and the memories made his hips ground down onto the throbbing, twitching appendage that pressed against his ass. The pleasure was immediate; Dean was mentally thankful to have his boxers still on. He didn't know if he could restrain himself. There was a husky gasp near his ear again, and the whisper of "Dean" by a gravelly voice sent pulses of warmth to his growing manhood.

Temptation rushed through Dean because he would like nothing better than to capture Cas' lips and swallow down the angel's moan with his mouth. Dean trembled when Cas shifted his hips, shoving his hardened manhood against the cloth of Dean's boxers. Both angel and man groaned together when the angel's manhood managed to slip between Dean's cheeks, still struggling on the cloth of the boxers. They both shifted, and they both moaned from the pleasure of the sensual movements that sent bath water sloshing onto the floor.

The sound of a throat clearing made Dean freeze of embarrassment, along with some shame washed over him. Dean didn't know why he was enjoying the angel's attentions so much. The first go around three weeks was just an accident, but now, it seemed that his body was acting beyond his control. That magnetic pulled Cas to him and himself to Cas. As Dean fought with himself about his growing bisexuality that he never knew that he had, Sam spoke, startling him out of his thoughts.

"So what do you call that Dean?" asked Sam smugly. "Runting or humping?"

With a blush the size of the biggest ball of twine crossing over his cheeks, Dean cleared his throat, "It was nothing Sammy," he replied coolly. Thankfully, his voice didn't stuttered a bit as he tried to ignore Cas' raging boner still wedged between his body.

Sam snorted again, "Sure, it was nothing. You weren't just trying to screw Castiel in front of me. Whatever you want to call it, I would appreciate if you stopped trying to molest him though. I can only stomach so much."

"You've seen more of me anyways," smirked Dean. "With you walkin' before and what not."

"Don't remind me," stated Sam deadpan. There were still tones of disgust laced within his voice.

Instead of giving Sam another snarky remark, Dean changed the subject. "What do you mean I die whenever I look at Cas?"

There was another Sam sigh before he spoke, "I don't know per say. Castiel and I have been taking turns researching for the last three days. We seem to think that your dying issue relates to your unstable bond with him. Castiel had mentioned that you can see some angel mojo that isn't meant for human eyes, which may be the reason you K.O every time you see him."

Dean nodded his head. It made sense, seeing Cas' wings back at the cabin and the hypnotizing electric shade of blue that Cas' eyes seemed to have adopted all the sudden. "So, why the blindfold? I mean, as long as I don't look at him, I'm good."

Sam snorted again, which Dean couldn't ignore and he spoke, "You really should get that checked out bitch."

Which made Sam laugh and retort with, "Shut it jerk." The good humor faded when Sam continued, "Dean, do you even remember what happened before you-" his voice trailed off.

"Died?" offered Dean. "Dude, as many times as we have died, you should be able to say the damn word by now."

"Fine!" shouted Sam. The anger, frustration and worry echoed around the room, "You have died twice Dean. I've watched you died more times than I can count. The blindfold stays until we figure out how to break the spell and get you back to normal."

"This is bullshit Sammy!" argued Dean. He bolted up from the bathtub, splashing water everywhere, "How the hell am I suppose to hunt? How the hell am I suppose to do anything? That bastard and his army of black goo jackasses won't take a vacation from making all of humankind into walking happy meals just so we can get a handle on this!"

Before Sam even got a chance to argue, Dean continued his angry rant, "I can resist looking at Cas for a damn minute! The guy ain't that good lookin'!" His fingers flew to the knot on the back of his head and unraveled it expertly in a minute. Dean recognized Cas' blue tie as it fell to the bathroom floor. Then his eyes caught a glance of Sammy's bitchface before he felt a warm, wet chest to his back and a pale hand over his eyes.

"Please Dean, Sam is merely expressing his concern for your well-being," whispered Castiel. Dean felt the stumble of the angel's jaw scrape against his lightly. The sensation alone, made Dean tremble. Never before did Cas' lack of personal space affect him so, until now. He didn't want him to move, he only wanted to draw Cas closer, so all that heated skin was pressed against his. Something in his mind should have sent out red flags about his desire for Cas, but nothing happened. Instead, the need to pull the angel closer vibrated within him. Dean was so caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed what Cas was saying, "Neither of us want to witness your death again. Not if we can prevent it in the first place."

Dean's eyes fluttered closed behind Cas' hand as he relished in the warm breath that crossed over his skin. Goosebumps traveled over his body and Dean fought back the shiver of pleasure as he ignored the warmth pooling into his lower body. He couldn't, he refused to get an angel-induced boner in front of Sam. His mind focused on repulsive things that flatten his mood in minutes. When Dean felt less than randy, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"I understand that Cas," his voice came out a barely a whisper but echoed almost loudly around the bathroom. The heat from Castiel's chest radiated to his body, reminding Dean of what transpired between them as of lately. "But I have a job to do," continued Dean, "We have a job to do. Your batteries are recharged aren't they? You could always revive me again."

His tone of voice carried a light bit of humor, because c'mon, just how many times has Cas saved his bacon? Answer would be: Countless. Meanwhile, his 'Saving Angel' count is possibly four? Maybe five times? Though before Cas could answer him, Sam intervened, "You died three days ago Dean. Castiel couldn't heal you. I had to do CPR to revive you and we took turns in the bathtub with you to keep your core temperature from dropping."

Ignoring Sam's angry, girly snippets; Dean looked for confirmation elsewhere. "Cas?" questioned Dean. To his disappointment, the angel put some distance between their heated bodies so their skin was no longer touching.

"Sam is correct. Three days ago my grace was lost due to the unpredictability of our bond. I could not revive you," stated Castiel.

"And your 'angel mojo' now?" asked Dean as he ignored how the two words of 'our bond' made his insides squirm with excitement and discomfort at the same time. The angel's hand was still over his face, preventing him from seeing both Sammy's face and Cas' expression, if he had one.

Then there was a heavy, awkward silence that made Dean automatically suspicious. He really, really wanted to see now. A nagging feeling pestered him as he thought that his brother and his angel were conversing silently to each other. He never really ignored his gut feeling. The fact that they were communicating over his freakin' shoulder irritated him to no end. Not to mention the swirling emotion of jealously that swam within his stomach. Dean would never admit aloud that he was jealous, that feeling reminded him of a knife stabbing into him.

"Is there something you would like to share with the class?" snapped Dean, really addressing no one. Well, maybe Sam more. Dean couldn't be sure if the nerdy angel would completely understand what he had meant. He made no effort to contain the agitation from his tone though. If he was going to be miserable, well, the more the merrier.

This time, it wasn't Sam who answered his question, it was the nerdy angel himself that now stood in the bathtub with him like a shadow. "My angel mojo has recovered soundly."

Though before Dean could question further, Sam cut him off, "But we can't risk you dying and Castiel not being able to help again. So, just, please, wear the blindfold Dean."

It was the tone of desperation that made Dean surrender and just knowing of the look that came with it. His mind imagined Sam's hazel 'puppy-eyes' at him. Dean hated that look and Sam knew that he did. "Fine!" said Dean fighting the urge to throw his hands up in surrender, knowing that he lost the battle. His mouth opened to say something else, but his words fell short and he inhaled sharply when he felt Cas' bare chest to his back again. As Cas leaned forward, Dean had no other choice but to moved his body with the angel's. He hissed when he felt, what was maybe an arm, that crossed over his shoulder.

His eyes remained shut when the hand pulled away from over his eyes for a moment, then the tie fell back over him. The cloth sat comfortably over his eyes, tight enough to stay put, but not painful enough to make the back of his head throb like earlier. Dean could only assume that was Sam's handiwork. When the knot was securely tied, he couldn't stop the rush of warmth that went straight to his growing manhood, knowing that Cas was the one who tied him. Dean always knew deep down that he was a kinky sonofabitch, but Cas' was right along there with him.

"So what now?" asked Dean. His body shivered from both the cold, and the lack of a warm body when Cas pulled away from him and the bathroom suddenly echoed with the sound of draining water. He felt stupid and surprising helpless, as he listened to the water drain for a moment before he continued talking with defeat laced within the undertones of his voice, "I just sit on my ass all damn day while you and feathers research?"

There was that same snort again that was Sam's, "I was thinking more like breakfast first. You haven't eaten for several days, you're probably starving. Then after food, we head to the cabin to research in Bobby's books that he brought over before he-" Sam stopped there and Dean was glad. After all the shit that he gave Sam about saying that four lettered word; Dean couldn't say it when it came in regards to Bobby. It was times like these, when the shit had hit the fan, that both brother's missed the man that they looked as a father. The only thing that Dean wanted to keep of the old man was the beat up, rusty lookin' flask that Bobby took everywhere with him. Everything was either too painful or didn't carry enough memories for him.

"Shall I retrieve nourishment for the both of you?" asked Castiel.

Dean hadn't been aware that the angel had climbed from the tub before him or that he had disappeared from the room all together. Maybe the had angel mojoed from the tub to give them privacy. "Yea Cas," replied Dean as he secretly thanked the angel for breaking the mourning silence between them, "That would be great."

The sound of fluttering wings and rustling clothes was the only way that Dean truly knew that Cas had left. Which brought him to a new topic that was still a sore spot between himself and Cas. Doing the best he could to give eye contact with a freakin' blindfold on, Dean turned his head to where he thought Sam would be. Then he spoke, rather hoping that he wasn't talking to a wall. "How's your head Sammy? No more Lucifer and hell flashbacks since the cabin?"

"Not at all," chirped Sam. Now, Dean didn't even have to look, he knew that Sam was smiling. "It's like nothing happened."

"Good. Hell, I don't mean to question a break when we finally get one about your broken head, but how the hell does Lucifer and everything disappear?" said Dean. There was a light scratchy feeling on his forearm. His fingers coasted over it carefully, before figuring out what it was. He grasping the towel within his hands.

"I really don't know Dean," replied Sam. "Castiel and I have a theory about it. I showed him the golden box that sucked up Lucifer that was back at the cabin, and he seems to think it makes sense."

"Thanks," mumbled Dean and took it from Sam. "So what's the theory?"

He wanted to dry off and really get into clothes before Cas came back. His self control was hardly intact; if the angel returned while he was almost naked, there would be no telling what he would do. "We think that since I was touching the witch while she was casting her desire spell on you, that I got caught in the crossfire."

"So you got the dregs? And from what you're sayin', you desired to have that bastard gone from your head, and because of the spell, he's gone or at least sucked into a little box. That's jest of it right?" mumbled Dean as he ran the towel softly through his short hair, drying it instantly.

He carefully climbed from the bathtub when a cold chill climbed up his spine. Dean stumbled on his slick feet, but caught himself by slapping a hand on the wall. The echo of small snickers let Dean know that Sam was still in the bathroom and had witnessed everything.

"Shut it Sammy," grumbled Dean as a embarrassing blush bloomed across his face.

He used the wall as a guide as he walked to sink. The little glimpse of the bathroom earlier was still in his mind. When he felt his other hand touch the cool counter, he began to fumble around for his deodorant blindly. Dean closed his eyes underneath the blindfold, thinking that it would help him find it. Then he remembered that he was out of commission for three days, and had yet to put his stuff in the bathroom. Instead, he leaned against the wall and said "What I don't get is that the bitch cast the spell on me to want to be a vamp. I'm not feeling the desire to get into a liquid diet, so it didn't work right? I'm not desiring anything."

There was a silence before Sam answered and the chill on Dean's spine made his body tremble. "How do you want me to answer that Dean? Because I think all of us, Castiel included know. So do you want me to say it aloud?"

Dean swallowed hard. Did he want to come out to his brother about his not-so-innocent incident with Cas? Or did he want to sweep it under the rug, and everyone knows but ignores it? Dean was oddly thankful for this choice. "I...uh...I.." stumbled Dean. He struggled to say three little words of 'I want Cas.' They were at the tip of his tongue, holding on inside him.

He jumped when a hand patted him on the back. "I know Dean. You don't have to say anything. I think I saw enough three weeks ago and just now."

"YOU WHAT?" exclaimed Dean. His blush bloomed back upon his face in full force. Sam patted him on the back again, and Dean knew. Oh Dean knew that the bastard had a smirk on his face. Ignoring Sam's comment and the chill down his spine that threatened to make his legs collapse underneath him. Dean gruffly said, "You could make yourself useful ya know."

"Sure Dean. What do you want?" asked Sam, his entertained, smug like tone was still in his voice.

"My shit, so I can get dress," replied Dean.

Sam only snorted at his brother before walking the short distance across the bathroom to open the door to fetch his brother's things. The chilly air from the adjacent room quickly rushed into the steamy bathroom, making goosebumps dance across Dean's flesh. There was a entirely different cold nagging feeling that moved across his spine then down to his legs. Suddenly Dean collapsed to the ground hard.

"What the fuck!" cried Dean as his body crumpled underneath him before mumbling a low, "Goddamnit" from the pain when his head collided with the sink. His head throbbed as he felt Sammy's gigantic feet approach through the vibrations of the floor. Dean made an effort to move his unwilling body just so he didn't have to hear Sam's crappy teasing.

His legs were two heaping piles of unmoving muscle when Sam spoke, "What happened Dean?"

"Fuck if I know," snapped Dean, not caring if he wasn't exactly tolerable at the moment. "My legs buckled underneath me."

"Do you know why?" asked Sam. Dean could feel his studious stare even through the blindfold.

"Quit your starin'" barked Dean. He wanted to rant at Sam about treating him as zoo animal, or a test subject but the cold nagging feeling raced all over him. Before Dean knew it, he was having a seizure. All of his muscles tensed painfully and his head throbbed from the lack of oxygen. There was ringing in his ears, it was high-pitched but nothing like Cas' true voice, though it still hurt nonetheless. Under his ringing, and the tense pain, he heard Sam's panic shouts. Dean would offer comfort to his little brother if he wasn't so worried about biting off his own tongue in the process.

When he thought the pain was bordering to unbearable, there was a soft touch on his forearm that made everything wash away. He felt as if he could breath again which was wonderful when his lungs sucked in the warm, steamy air. Dean didn't know what to say. He could do his usual thing and make a joke about, then obsess about it later when he was alone. He could get Sammy's opinion about the whole thing, which would be chalk full of 'touchy-feely' girlie shit and he didn't know if he could handle that right now without blowing a fuse. Instead, he laid there, staring at the light blue of Cas' tie around his eyes.

"My apologies Dean," stated Castiel, which made Dean jump in surprise all the way to next week. "I am still unaware of how unpredictable the bond would be. It wasn't my intention to put you through pain."

All Dean could do was nod as he slowly sat up from the floor. There was a light touch on his forehead and he knew that the pulsing pain from his fall had been helped. "Thanks Cas," rasped Dean. "Can you tell me what the hell was that about?"

There was a silence, along with a nagging feeling again. Dean automatically knew that his brother and his angel were silently communicating without him again. It was several minutes and Dean was getting annoyed, he opened his mouth to snap at either Sam, Cas or both when Cas replied.

"My disappearance-" started Castiel but he soon fell silent. Not knowing just were to start with explaining. Then Sam cut in, "Dean, you know how I explained that Castiel had to create bond with you to pull you out of hell?"

Dean nodded, he remembered the conversation like yesterday, but in all actuality, it was three days ago. "Ya, what of it?"

"Well, you know in conversation how I said that you could go throughout your day to day life without ever knowing that the bond was there?"

The wheels in Dean's head turned. For as much shit as he gets about Sammy being the smart one; Dean was rather insightful. Underrated, but insightful. "So, what you're saying, is...I'm feelin' shit now because the bond is unpredictable? Right? What does this mean?"

Sam nodded proudly before remembering that Dean couldn't see it, "Yea, exactly. I don't know really unfortunately."

Then Dean hung his head, he wouldn't, couldn't ever catch a freakin' break. Not only was he forbidden to see because angel boy could kill him just by his hot bod. But he would go into freaky tremor mode because of the bond. "You think that this is going to happen every time Cas goes to get us breakfast? Am I going to feel this every time?"

Another annoying silence flowed around the room and he knew that they were talking again. Dean was halfway debating to twiddle his thumbs just out of sheer boredom or to calm himself from killing his brother.

"I believe so," stated Castiel so closely that made Dean jump again. "The witch weakened the shields I placed within you to insure you could maintain the lifestyle of your choosing. Now, I'm afraid we can't not be too far apart from each other. Or at least you to me since you are human."

As a human, Dean knew just what it felt like to have a horrid mixture of feeling churning within gut. Not only did Cas tell him they basically needed to be attached to the hip but basically insulted with the word of 'human.' The angel hadn't done that for several years. What irked him more was Cas saying 'the lifestyle of his choosing.' Just what the hell did he mean by that? His head pulsed, reminding Dean of phantom pains and growing stress headache; oh how he wished for drugs. So, Dean Winchester did what he was famous for: Shoved everything under the rug. If he had to be attached to Cas more so already, so be it. Eventually, they would figure out how to break his spell.

Hopefully.

Dean got up from the floor and held his hand out, hoping that Sammy was still sticking around. His assumption was correct when he felt the shove of his duffel bag into his arms. "Okay, everyone out. I got to get into real clothes. Cold wet boxers ain't for me."

"Dean," stated Castiel. The older Winchester heard footsteps walking away from them as he stood on his shaky legs.

Which made Dean sigh, he knew what the angel was getting at. He fought the urge to rub his eyes as he spoke, "I know we just got done talkin' about ignoring personal space but give me just this once Cas."

"It would be unwise," was the angel's only reply.

He nodded his head, knowing that he could end up being a writhing mass of Dean all over the bathroom floor again if he wasn't around Cas. "The freaky side effects didn't show for a while, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. That's enough time for me to get dress."

When Cas didn't reply right away, Dean knew that he had won this argument. "Very well, but no longer. I do not wish to see you like that again."

"I couldn't agree with you more Cas, It wasn't a walk in the park," said Dean.

"What does walking in the park have to do with your seizures?" asked Castiel. Dean could literally see the head tilt of angel confusion within his mind. He only smiled in amusement and his hands groped the air looking for the angel talking to him. "It's nothing Cas. Now please go help Sam research or something. I would like to get dress and don't come in unannounced. Knock on the door or something would ya?"

"I understand," stated Castiel before leaving the bathroom as well. Dean quickly shut the door behind the angel before making his way to the knot on the back of his head. He literally sighed when he could see again. Or at least for ten or fifteen minutes. Dean quickly rustled into his duffel bag and dressed in a dark blue pair of jeans and a black T- shirt after putting dry, clean boxers on of course. Dean looked at his reflection and determined that he looked like a hobo after three days of not shaving.

Digging into his duffel again, Dean grabbed the razor and shaving cream. He hastily lathered his five o' clock shadow in shaving cream along with his neck. Then he started to shave. Halfway done with shaving, Dean felt the nagging cold on his spine again.

"Damn it," cursed Dean, as he glided the blade up his neck. It didn't even feel like ten minutes had already passed. There was a timid knock on the bathroom door as he pulled the razor from his neck. "Yea?" asked Dean.

"Just wonderin' how you're feeling since ten minutes have gone by," said Sam through the door.

Dean swiped the razor twice before replying, "Just peachy. Quit your worrin.' I'm just about finished in here." Sam didn't reply and Dean quickly finished shaving his face as the chill on his spine grew more unbearable. When his legs started to tremble, Dean ignored cleaning up after himself and snatched up the blindfold to secure it over his eyes with shaky hands. "Cas?" called Dean.

There was a knock on the door and Dean growled out, "Come in," from between his clenched teeth. He was momentarily annoyed by the polite knock on the door when he was about to go on the pain train. But, he knew he shouldn't be. Talk about a double standard, he was unhappy because Cas only did as he asked. Why would anyone deal with him? His head was starting to pound again, it was only a matter of time before he became a writhing mass of pain on the floor again. Then there was a feathery light touch on his shoulder and he automatically relaxed. He could feel the heat from the angel's palm through his t-shirt, "Thanks man."

"I do not wish for you to wait that long again."

Dean chuckled and grinned lightly from the Cas' suggestion that so happened to carry a tone of authority. "No problem Cas."

Then he smelled the greasy scent of food coming from Cas as it slowly drifted around the room. "Breakfast?" asked Dean.

His only answer was a hand grabbing his elbow, leading him out of the bathroom like a small kid. Dean let it happen for now, swallowing his complaints, just because his stomach churned from starvation. A man had to have his priorities after all. As they crossed the motel room, Dean could hear the footfalls of Sammy thumping around the place. He was manhandled by the angel to sit, which Dean liked more than he cared to admit. His mouth opened, prepared to say something that was 'so Dean' when suddenly something that tasted like a breakfast burrito was stuffed into his mouth and his mind went to the gutter. He was living in gutterville as the light feathery touch returned back to his shoulder.

Reflectively, Dean took a bite and chewed then grabbed at the burrito before it became another victim to the motel floor, just as his burger did. "So...uh," said Dean between bites, "We're heading to the cabin after this?"

"Obviously. Now shut up and eat your burrito, we leave in ten minutes." snapped Sam. Dean was shocked by his brother's tone before saying. "Man, who's jizzed in your burrito?"

"Sam is upset with me," came Castiel's voice from behind him.

Dean took another large bite to distract himself from the filthy images that just raced through his mind, "Fwhy?"

"I thought it would be unwise for Sam to harass Lucifer while he's detained," replied Castiel. "I took it upon myself to hide the golden box from your brother. He has yet to accept that he will never find it as long as I wish it."

"That's stupid Cas. After everything that the bastard put Sam through, treating him like a damn salt shaker couldn't hurt. Hell, it would be great therapy for both of us and damn well justifiable," said Dean around the last of his breakfast burrito. He wiped his mouth on his arm before standing up and pulling on his leather jacket that he felt on the back of the chair. Then he didn't know what to do next until something landed at his feet with a thump. Dean bent over and grabbed it. His fingertips cased over two duffel bags and he gathered them in his arms. Apparently he was a pack mule, blindfolded or not.

"Justifiable?" That's a big word coming from you Dean," snapped Sam underneath his breath as he came back from the bathroom.

"Hey! Don't be a dick Samantha! I'm on your side. I'm all for harassing the prick, giving the asshat a taste of his own medicine," exclaimed Dean, putting his hands up on the defense. "We could take turns."

He felt a hand grab at his arm, haling him to someplace. His feet firmly went forward to the brutal pace of the stride, "If you could see Cas' face, he isn't buying it."

Dean now knew that the hand was Sam's and he felt Cas' hand in the dip of his lower back. As he opened his mouth to tell Cas that he isn't a girl and shouldn't be led like one, Dean felt the brutal heat of the sun on his face. The bright light bled through the dark blue flesh of the tie and he could only hope that he wouldn't get any funny tan lines.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" protested Dean when he felt a hand start to grope him. Well, at least more than usual. "Don't grope me!" he added last, hoping that it would cover both his brother and Cas. The angel may have to touch him, but he didn't want liberties taken, not in front of Sam at least. He heard a snort from in front of him with a metal clack of keys, Dean got his answer moments later.

"Wasn't groping you Dean," replied Sam sounding disgusted. "I need the keys since you're not driving anytime soon."

It wasn't that he completely forgotten that he was blindfolded, but realizing that he wasn't driving his Baby put a damper on his day. He blindly groped for the silver handle of the door and climbed in. Dean realized two things just then. One, he was led to the backseat door and was currently sitting in back. Two, he wasn't alone. The light feathery touch returned, this time landing on his thigh. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean realized it was going to be a very long car ride to Montana. The only saving grace that was beating back his sexual tension was the waves of anger from the front seat as the Impala purred to life. It seemed that Samantha was still pissy.

Dean took out Bobby's flask and tipped the burning liquid down his throat. It was going to be a very long car ride indeed.

.