( dean has found, over the years, that it's a hell of a lot easier to live in the moment than to try to make plans for the future. nothing ever seems to last, even if he wants it to, and it's better to not get attached to any one person, any one thing on the off-chance that it gets taken away. so far, it's just been him and sam, and his one-night-stands peppered here and there and everywhere – it's always easier with a lack of emotion tied to anything, or at the very least, that's what he's managed to convince himself, and that's what he's trying to stick to.

no promises made means no promises broken, and even if he's always considered himself a man of his word, things happen and words fall short, leave behind broken hearts and stunted futures.

still, this nerd his little brother has been hanging out with – there's something about him that has caught and held his attention, something that has him wanting to push just a bit further, feel him out, figure him out. maybe he'll get lucky and he'll stick around long enough for that to happen –

or maybe just long enough for him to have a bit of fun with it. you never know until you try, right?

he sets the grungy rag off to the side, hands moving to close the hood of the impala and dump his tools back in their places. ( albeit a bit haphazardly, just by dint of not really wanting to move his gaze from castiel, and how he looks like a damned deer in the headlights. ) ) And most people don't use words like ardent in normal conversation. ( he grins, and it's nothing but teeth, and then he's sliding ( very closely ) past castiel toward the door that leads in from the garage to the house proper. )

C'mon, you can wait for Sammy inside. If you don't want a beer, the kid's got some, uh … tea, or something in the kitchen, I think. ( dean do you even know how to brew tea? )

Or tap water.