Twist and shout

cluster drifted forward. Dean did work them – he played around for the first half, but 72 was aggressive and Dean was not to be trifled with. Cas hissed as they sped around the corner, swearing that Dean’s leg nearly grazed the pavement the turn was so close. He passed the binoculars to Sam who followed him around the track.

“Sure lead!” Sam said brightly, and Cas leaned forward, watching as they came up around the bend closest to their parked car. The three of them held their breath and yelled as Dean went past, baiting the rider beside him, neck and neck.

“Give ‘em hell!” Sam yelled, and Jess fanned herself.

“Too much excitement!” she laughed, and Cas grinned. It felt like it had just started, but the race was over quickly.

Cas threw up his hands, Jessica whooping while Sam pumped a fist, Dean sliding over the finish line like he owned the track, leading so easily it was almost criminal. He really did bully them in the first half before stealing it in the final leg. Cas looked away as Jess and Sam shared a kiss, Sam brimming with pride. He took up the neglected binoculars again, easily finding Dean’s number.

Bobby was down in the pit, and he took his hat off, waved it and then replaced it, hustling to Dean. Cas’ eyes followed Dean’s every movement as he parked his bike, shaking his head out as he pulled his helmet off and tucked it in the crook of his arm. Heaccepted the flask that Bobby offered him, leaning back to take a good pull of it. Bobby ruffled his hair as he passed it back and then pulled him in, head locking his neck to hug him, and Cas knew Dean was forcing himself to be humble, pushing the older man off with a silent laugh.

Cas flushed and Sam shoved him.

“Well, we should probably go congratulate him!” Sam exclaimed, lifting Jessica off the hood. She squealed, waving the program, talking about other races, but Cas knew they’d pale in comparison to watching Dean race. Sam set her back on the ground like she weighednothing, Cas jumping off as well, folding up the blanket, Jess scattering the orange peels into the grass. They piled back into the car and followed the others around to the front of the track, parking in the grass nearer to the pit. Dean had wheeled his motorcycle off to the side and was talking to Bobby as they all approached, his hair slicked from the helmet and his eyes bright and shining. They hung back while a reporter snapped his picture with the trophy and did a quick interview, Dean turning over his shoulder to wink at them when Bobby answered more specific questions.

“He’ll make the front page of the AFM newsletter, no doubt,” Cas joked, and Sam snorted, eager to go towards Dean, his arm slung around Jess’s waist.

“You’re terrible,” Jess laughed, and Cas smiled, watching Dean gesture at something on his bike, talking about the make. He looked so lean in his leathers and Cas licked his lips unconsciously.

Dean was always in a good mood after a big win.

As soon as the reporter was gone, Sam strode forward, taking Dean by the arms and shaking him lightly, a grin on his face.

“You were mint!” He smiled. “absolutely mint!” Dean shrugged, pulling him into his arms again.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he muttered into Sam’s ear, and Sam held him back, Dean clapping his shoulder and then releasing him, Sam launching into the list of questions he had saved up.

Jess stayed back, leaning against Cas in Sam’s absence, the backs of their hands brushing,