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Sam throws down a paper bag in front of Dean. “What’s this?”
Cas sniffs and looks at him. “It smells like hamburgers.”
Sam rolls her eyes and taps her nose. “Bingo.”
“I’m good.” Dean shifts his jaw around and pulls the blanket up higher over his chest. Sam sighs at him.
“When was the last time you ate?” He looks at her bitchily. “No, don’t answer that. It was lunch yesterday, and it was a lunchable. Like you’re seven years old.”
“Fuck you, lunchables are good.”
“Lunchables are mediocre and disappointing.”
“Fuck you! Dessert pizza lunchables have never let me down!” Dean turns the volume up pointedly. Sam stays standing for another long moment. All of them are silent, Dean still trying to watch the TV but only out of spite and Cas paying closer attention to the sibling drama.
“Look, I get it. We all feel like shit, alright? But laying here feeling like shit isn’t gonna make us feel better, so we can eat bad food and paint our nails and feel like shit.”
“Can we get drunk?”
Cas furrows his brows. “Drinking is not a productive way to deal with emotional pain.”
“Disagree.” Dean sits up and reaches for the burgers, and Sam figures that’s a good sign. She goes for the Walmart bag next and pulls out the fancy little self-manicure kits she got them. She would’ve gone for the frilly little robes too, because she knows they all love them, but on a bad dysphoria day, Dean won’t even look at the color pink, let alone wear a robe. “If you can’t think about your body long enough to feel bad about it, you don’t feel so bad.”
Cas unwraps his own burger and takes off the top bun, still perched on the edge of the couch cushion. He peels the pickles off and hands them to Dean, who piles them on his own burger without even asking. They’re a well oiled machine at this point. “Touché.”
Sam sighs. Now things are going back downhill. She kicks at Dean until he makes room for her on the couch and plops down. “Not you too, Cas. I thought we were on the same side here?”
Cas shrugs and pulls off his shirt before he keeps eating his food. That’s one of the differences between Cas and Sam and Dean; when Cas is dysphoric, he takes clothes off, versus the oversized three layers of clothing and blankets Dean and Sam have covered themselves in. “I like margaritas.”
Sam rolls their eyes. “How about milkshakes and Queer Eye?”
Cas snatches a milkshake from Sam, eying the color before looking back at them. “Strawberry? I like strawberry.”
“I know you do.”
Dean looks between them grumpily. “Do I get one too?”
Sam lets a small smile cross their face. “Chocolate for you. Butterscotch for me.” She sips hers smugly.
“Can we watch something other than Queer Eye?” Dean asks, dipping a fry into his.
“Are you sure? There’s that one with a trans guy, we could-”
“Sam.” Dean balls in on himself and sniffs. “I don’t wanna think about how we’re different right now okay? Even if it’s about how our differences are kumbaya or some shit, I just don’t wanna-”
“Ok, yeah, I get it.” She leans against her brother. “That’s not how kumbaya works though-”
“Shut up, bitch,”
“Jerk,”
“Cas, what do you wanna watch?”
Cas shrugs. “Madagascar.”
“Madagascar? Like, the animated movie about zoo animals?” Cas nods. Dean looks at Sam. They shrug back. “Okay, let’s move it movie it,” he laughs at the others’ groans and steals the remote from Sam so he can pull up Netflix.
Sam passes out the nail polish while they start the movie. Cas gets a dark blue and pink (He likes to alternate colors on every finger), Dean gets a classic black, and Sam goes with purple. Yes, they’re classic colors for each of them. And sometimes you need the classic comforts.
“Cas, baby, isn’t that really fucking uncomfortable sitting like that?” Dean asks, his worry sneaking towards grumpiness. Cas looks back from his perch unhappily. He shrugs rather than answers, and Dean sighs. Cas doesn’t just get human dysphoria from him being trans or Jimmy being trans. He also gets Angel-brand dysphoria; he hates sitting against a couch because it reminds him of the state of his wings. “C’mere.”
Cas only hesitates for a moment before he climbs on Dean’s lap. It’s something they do sometimes, being up on Dean gives Cas beside and below him, like a buffer so he can think about it less. Dean hugs him from behind and puts his head on his shoulder so he can still watch the movie, and Cas holds his milkshake so he can still drink it. Sam scoffs at them. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Sh, don’t get bitter just because your girlfriend is off being a big badass during pride.” Dean grabs Sam’s hand and her nail polish and starts in on it. He is the best nail polisher of them, considering he’s had the most practice. That, and the fact that he’s obsessively neat and has surprisingly steady hands.
Sam glares but lets him do it. “Yeah, well, I still think it’s pretty homophobic of her. Transphobic, too, if you think about it.”
“And your other girlfriend?”
She rolls her eyes. “She’s a busy fucking woman, thank you very much.”
“Right, right, dating a girl boss.”
“Technically, a queen.” Cas corrects.
“Mhm,” Sam allows herself to get a little smug.
“Look at us, just a bunch of queens watching an animated zoo movie and not getting drunk in our rapidly approaching middle age.”
“Hear hear!” Sam bumps the styrofoam of her cup against the two cups Cas is holding. And they watch their movie. “Happy pride, assholes,”