Drugs And Arts
Jimmy is perfectly aware that this is not how things should go.
In normal circumstances, he would stand in Dean’s shop now, demanding that the mechanic treat his brother right.
Instead, he’s banging on the door of his brother’s studio during his very own lunch break.
Who cares if he doesn’t get to eat. This is important.
His brother opens with his usually lazy grin, hair askew, eyes ablaze, his painting clothes invariably stained with so many colours it almost hurts to look.
He’s not smelling like weed for once, at least.
Without a word, Jimmy pushes past him.
“Hello to you too, dearest brother.”
“Castiel, this has gone too far.”