Chapter Text
(11,535 words)
It's been two days since that thing that Sam is doing his very best not to think too much about happened in the kitchen, and things are as awkward as ever. The curse makes Dean verbally vomit about how annoying pop-up boners are to Cas at least twice, and though Cas nods along, he still doesn't look Dean in the eye long enough to realize Dean can't quite look at him, either.
This tension between them, while good for his bet against Rowena where she thinks they'll be taking the 'u' from 'UST' within the week and he knows it's just not gonna happen, is torture to watch, so he steps in and talks to each side.
Dean, for his part, is mostly guilty. "I really messed up, Sammy. I-I don't even…it just happened. Not like I meant to, but he was right there and it's been a while—"
"Uh, yeah, thanks for that info, Dean."
Dean's quiet for all of three blissful seconds before, hand waving around erratically enough to threaten to send some beer out from the top of the bottle, he continues, "You know nobody has any control over these things. Something firm and warm is in front of you and—hello!—guess who's here for a visit?"
Sam buries his face in his hands, trying to block out any and all stimulus that reminds him of the Incident, when it occurs to him that Dean's speaking generally, denying the basic facts, so he interrupts, "Dude, c'mon. This is because it was Cas."
"Well, yeah," Dean replies before freezing, face going red. But with the curse Rowena chucked at his big, dumb head, he can't help but continue instead of starting to pour on his usual torrent of denial, "It's always Cas. You know how he is. He's all…nice and strong and helpful and all that crap. Real easy on the eyes."
Over the years, Sam's started thinking of Cas more and more as something of a little brother despite their massive age gap going in the opposite direction. With how naive Cas is about so many things, the analogy does kind of fit, either way, and Sam uses that as an opportunity to teach him all kinds of things and introduce him to stuff beyond spaghetti westerns and greasy food.
With Cas, Sam gets to let his nerdier side out more because the angel's an even bigger nerd than he is, gets to talk about non-hunt-related books that he reads just for fun and gets Cas to read just so he has someone to talk about them with and gets recommended things in return, often of the…home and garden variety, since Cas apparently likes reading doctor's office magazines and wants to share them with others.
And maybe some of this does stem from privately always wanting a younger sibling to take care of, or a pet at the very least, but Sam tries not to think about it too much. Dean's been looking after him his whole life and while he returns the favor whenever possible, he can't help but find the idea of having someone look up to him that way appealing, even if Cas doesn't realize he fills that role.
With all this in mind, it's pretty much impossible to think of Cas—though unfortunately not Dean, as he's walked in on far too many things over the years that he's pretty sure are burned into his retinas—in any of the ways Dean probably pictures him all the time, just like it's weird to think of either of them being anything near attractive even if they objectively are. It's just weird and gross.
That doesn't stop Dean from telling him all about Cas' more…redeeming qualities, in his eyes, going on for twenty minutes about how blue Cas' eyes look when he's happy or how great his ass apparently looks in tight pants, unlike the ill-fitting crap Jimmy just slung on, starting with the trench coat Dean bitches about disgustingly fondly.
Sam's only saved from hearing more when Dean shuts up about Cas' lips long enough to try to drink from his empty beer bottle, making Sam stand up so quickly that he nearly knocks over his chair. "Let me get you another."
Normally, he might complain about Dean's drinking habit, but with this being his only ticket to salvation in sight, he can't really help but fuel it a little. Cas regularly heals his liver up anyway, and Dean's just drinking casually right now, so he figures the harm is little compared to the positive side that means he can escape this conversation. So he returns with a beer and tells Dean to talk to Cas about it before scurrying off to his room, putting on his noise-canceling headphones just in case.
Unsurprisingly, Dean doesn't talk to Cas, which he figures out the next morning in the form of Cas sitting sullenly in the grass outside the Bunker, making Sam pause from where he'd been securing his phone into the pocket of his shorts, preparing for an early morning run. He approaches slowly, making sure this is an upset Cas and not just a contemplative one looking for some peace and quiet; he's not nearly as good at reading Cas' face as Dean is, so it takes him a few seconds to confirm it's the former, even as Cas greets him the same way he always does.
"Hello, Sam."
"Hey, Cas. You okay?"
"I'm fine."
Sam speaks Winchester and knows that means he isn't. Putting his run on hold, Sam takes a careful seat next to Cas in the damp grass still sparkling with morning dew. "Is this about Dean?"
"Yes," Cas admits, either due to the spell or due to his usual bluntness. "You said that he liked me as well, but…"
"He does," Sam assures him gently, though he's thoroughly baffled as to why Cas is upset by this.
"Oh," the angel lets out quietly, and for a second, Sam thinks he might understand now, but that doesn't explain why Cas just looks…sad. "I thought you meant he…that he loves me, in the way I love him. But it seems you meant he likes me the same way he likes all the individuals he…engages in at bars, or in the way the reaper possessing April had when she decided she wanted to have sex."
Sam takes note of Cas' wording, of how he says April's reaper wanted to have sex, carefully excluding whether he himself wanted to or not. Does he think Dean would have sex with him even if he didn't want to? Or does he just not like the implications of only being liked in the sense of arousal?
"Dean likes you for more than just that, Cas. Way more. Half the people he, uh, engages in don't even know his real name, let alone who he is or what he does or anything." Cas still doesn't look convinced, so he tries something else. "If Dean cared so much about all those people, why does he never interact with them for more than a few hours? Why does he never call them back?"
"Because they…no longer serve a purpose?" Sam squirms a little at his word choice, cringing when Cas concludes, "If he engages in sexual intercourse with me as he appears to intend to, he'll no longer wish to interact with me afterwards."
He only barely resists the urge to take Cas by the shoulders and shake him until he starts using his brain instead of his fragile heart only just experiencing these unfamiliar feelings for the first time. "They don't matter to Dean and never have. He doesn't talk to them about things that are bothering him or teach them how to cook or watch Tombstone with them for the eightieth time. They didn't matter before sex and they don't matter after."
"Because he never liked them," Cas surmises slowly, though his head is firmly tipped to the side, even as Sam nods with restrained enthusiasm. "If Dean doesn't care about any of those people, why do they have sex?"
This is never a discussion he wanted to have with anyone, let alone an angel. Years ago, he used to look up to the idea of angels, view them as saviors and a light at the end of the tunnel and all that. Now, he's giving one a lecture on lust vs. love and, in the process, learns that Cas is probably demisexual, at the very least. The sun is well into the sky and the last traces of the chill that was in the air earlier are gone by the time Cas is nodding to the ground, thoughtful.
Before Sam can awkwardly try to excuse himself, Cas looks up with a gentle sort of smile directed at something in the distance, the sort of smile usually directed at Dean. "I think I understand now. Although I'd rather gain confirmation from Dean himself that he…loves me before we engage in sexual intercourse."
"Uh…yeah, great."
"Thank you, Sam," Cas continues earnestly, seeming unaware of Sam's growing discomfort. "I'll tell Dean that I forgive him for his 'boner' in the kitchen the other day—which is a misleading term for it, considering that no bones are involved. Well, in humans, at least. Regardless, I do understand that humans have little control over them and that it wasn't strictly Dean's fault, although I suppose it is nice to know that Dean finds me aesthetically pleasing despite my vessel being biologically male."
"Yeah, that's…good. You…you do that." With that, he's able to finally send the angel on his merry way and salvage what's left of the morning for a short run.
When he returns to the Bunker, sweating and pleasantly tired, he finds Dean and Cas doing their usual staring thing from three feet away in the library and has the distinct urge to smoosh their faces together, though he restrains himself. He's certainly not quiet and he's sure his presence is known by both angel and hunter, but neither one of them so much as glances over long enough to confirm that Sam's back from his unannounced run and that he's alive and well.
Typical. At least things seem like they're back to normal.
Things remain normal with the normal pining—staring from afar, staring when the other looks away, staring in general—and after two days of that as they officially step over the first week of the spell being cast (and a quick message to Rowena that no, the curse hasn't been lifted and yes, they're just as insufferable as before, if not more), Sam begins meddling again.
"Are you certain Dean won't mind?" Cas asks for the fourth time as Sam tries to smooth down his disaster of a collar. "These are Dean's clothes, and he doesn't enjoy sharing most of his possessions…"
"He'll like it," Sam promises yet again. "Besides, he doesn't mind sharing with you."
Cas remains unconvinced all the way up until Dean actually catches sight of Cas as they leave the Bunker's bathroom after Sam gives up on taming his messy hair (though if Dean's curse-induced ramblings are anything to go by, he likes it that way, anyway).
"Whoa," is all Dean says audibly, but his face is saying a whole lot of things Sam doesn't want to think about.
"I'm wearing your clothes," Cas states needlessly, because of course he does.
"You sure are." Dean licks his lips but ducks his head. "Uh, ready to go?"
"Y'know, I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach. Not really feeling going to a restaurant," Sam begins, putting a hand on his perfectly-fine stomach and flashing a weak sort of smile. "Why don't you two just go?"
Before Dean can do more than widen his eyes and open his mouth, no doubt about to bitch incessantly about being left alone with Cas on what's definitely a date, Cas is leaning in with two fingers, murmuring, "Allow me." A flood of angel grace washes over Sam, leaving him pleasantly warm, though he does feel bad for having Cas waste his powers to heal little more than the spot on his face where he'd cut himself shaving. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Yeah, Cas," he sighs, half-baked plan foiled. "Thanks."
Well, there goes any attempt at forcing the two of them on a date and praying. At least he manages to get them to sit on the same side of the table by using his long legs to his advantage and rushing to one of the booths, sitting in the middle to take up as much room as he can. Dean makes a scoffing noise, but Cas scoots right into the other booth without a thought and Dean follows with a bitchy look on his face that fades quickly enough as he starts browsing the menu.
"What are you getting?" Dean asks Cas, who has yet to make an effort towards grabbing a menu.
"Dean, I don't need to eat."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't eat. Why don't you get the pie or something? About time you got a taste of heaven."
"That's not funny, Dean."
"Holy—" Sam takes in a deep breath, forcing away his annoyance. "Dean, if you wanna eat enough for three people, just order it. Don't dump all the orders you're fantasizing about on Cas—" A waitress comes up, so he cuts himself off with a polite smile. "Uh, hi. Can I get a Cobb salad and an iced tea?"
Dean mutters something under his breath that Sam pretends not to hear. "I'll have a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a coke, and my buddy here'll have your taco salad and lemon water."
The waitress doesn't look impressed. "Pretty sure your 'buddy' can order for himself."
Sam is unable to contain a quiet snort of amusement at the implications that fly right over Cas' head, the angel instead asking, "Does the taco salad have croutons? I've found that I enjoy their texture."
"Um…I'll see what I can do."
Sam, personally, can't wait to see what she comes up with, but before he can inform a somewhat flustered Dean about this, Cas states, gazing at Dean intensely, "I'm glad that you didn't attempt to invite her to engage in sexual intercourse. I don't like it when you do that. It makes my vessel's chest feel strange."
Dean gawks at Cas openly for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish, and Sam tries his hardest not to make a sound. Dean doesn't end up coming up with a reply (probably due to the spell making him speak his mind—particularly the thoughts he wants to hide—which only works when his brain is online and capable of thinking instead of visibly blue-screening) by the time the waitress comes with their drinks.
It's mildly amusing watching Dean pretend nothing ever happened while Cas tries to squeeze the lemon into his water without touching it by pushing it into the side of the glass with his straw, so Sam watches them do their thing. Cas finally manages to just barely tint the water a pale yellow with the lemon, and Dean's eyes seem to be glued to the condensation that's running down the side of his glass. Seeing no pressing issues, Sam looks down at his phone, but quickly glances up when Cas makes a confused noise.
"Dean, why do you keep kicking my leg? Do you need more room?" Oh god. Dean's trying to play footsie with an angel while Sam is right across from them. Dean just huffs and looks over Cas to stare out the window, and Cas turns to Sam. "Sam, why does Dean keep kicking my leg?"
"I don't know, Cas. Why don't you ask him?"
Dean shoots him such a dirty look for those two seconds it takes for him to meet Cas' eyes and then keep on staring, eyes very unsubtly dropping down to his lips while Cas' just narrow slightly. "Dean."
'Dean'. That's all Cas says, but Dean looks like he might explode, leaning away from him slightly with his body while his eyes never stray. Dean visibly swallows and licks his lips, and Sam leans a little closer in anticipation when Cas' eyes drop to follow the movement. This could be it. Things could be happening, finally happening!
Before anything can happen, however, the waitress appears out of nowhere and starts handing out plates, startling all three of them. The moment evaporates into thin air as they all begin eating, with Dean and Cas seeming to pretend like nothing happened and Sam too frustrated to say a word.
"Tastes like…molecules," Cas mumbles eventually, staring at his plate with a perplexed expression.
"That sucks," Dean replies simply, snatching a chip from his taco salad without asking but quickly making a face. "Or maybe it doesn't. These chips are salty as the freakin' ocean."
Cas tilts his head and opens his mouth, and Sam rushes to explain, "It's just an expression, Cas."
Honestly, the amount of things he has to put up with is unbelievable. Dean takes a big, jaw-crackingly wide bite of his burger and gets a mix of ketchup and mustard to pour down his chin, and Cas leans over without a word to wipe it away with a napkin before they both just pause and look at each other for way too long. When Sam dares to glance up again, it's to Dean stealing half of Cas' food and getting Cas to try a few fries, resulting in ketchup dripping onto Cas' borrowed pants, making them both freeze.
Cas is quick to apologize and scrambles to climb over Dean to go to the bathroom to wash it off, and all Dean can do is sit there and stare at his ass while he walks away, making no effort to get up to help or anything; Sam, at least, has the excuse of knowing this isn't his place, because it absolutely isn't his place to go follow Cas into the bathroom to see if he's doing…well, anything right, really. Cas, of course, returns to the table with a giant wet spot on his pants, which are still lightly tinted with ketchup, and Dean chokes on his drink. If Sam weren't busy gawking, somewhat embarrassed on poor Cas' behalf, he'd probably be laughing.
"Dude, what the hell? What did you do?"
"I tried to wash the ketchup off, although it doesn't seem like I did it correctly…"
"Y'think?" Dean snorts, clearly agitated as he grabs a handful of napkins and pulls Cas closer by the belt loop, leaning down and beginning to use the napkins to dry the wet spot on his thigh. "Geez, it's like I gotta do everything myself, babysitting everybody. Can't even clean a drop of ketchup off your…" Dean's eyes flicker up at Cas suddenly and he bites his lip. "Trying real hard not to make a dick joke right now."
"Thank you, Dean, although I probably wouldn't understand it, anyway," Cas replies mildly. "These are your clothes, though."
"So? 'S not like I've got tons of 'em or anything. 'Sides, uh…you look good."
"'Good,'" the angel repeats, nodding seriously, though were it not for the unnecessary air quotes, Sam would've thought Cas was just agreeing to continue wearing Dean's clothes and subsequently making Sam's life a little easier. "That is…good?"
"Yeah, Cas. It's a good thing."
Cas nods, but Sam can't help but wonder if he's still thinking about the…incident in the kitchen that Sam might just have to ask Rowena for a spell to forget once this is all over. Actually, if everything goes according to plan, he'd probably need that spell on a daily basis if Dean has anything to say about it…
Well, that's future Sam's problem. Right now, Sam just wants these morons to be happy and all that, and if the only way to get there is to make them open their eyes for once, so be it. Noise-canceling headphones are a thing for a reason, and the Bunker's pretty big. If it really gets bad, worst case scenario is somebody maybe moves out; an underground Bunker isn't really a good place for a family or a dog, anyway.
Before he can even begin to worry about any of that, he has to sit through a car ride of awkward silence with Cas sitting in the middle of the backseat like he always does for some…probably weird reason and Dean glancing back at him every few seconds through the rearview mirror. If they get into a car accident because Dean can't keep his eyes off his angel for two seconds, Sam will never let him live it down…
-
Following the diner incident is lots of staring and pining and just eye sex in general, but very little actual communication. Two days of this and Sam's had enough, choosing to try to intervene yet again. This time, in an attempt to get closer to the heart of the problem, Sam has them take a few tests to try to figure out what their love languages are.
He doesn't even try to deceive Cas, but doesn't explain the purpose of the tests, either. The angel just seems happy to be a part of something and never really presses too hard to figure out the purpose of the tests, instead thoughtfully answering every question and taking forever to finish. By the end, he finds Cas' love language is words of affirmation, which is pretty much what Sam expected partially due to Cas' blunt nature and inability to pick up on unsaid things, and also why he'd thought the spell lessening the control over his and Dean's tongues would be more effective than it turned out to be.
He has to get Dean half drunk to take a single test, and then drunker yet to take more than one, and he mocks every other question, leaving his results a lot more skewed than Cas', who had invariably gotten words of affirmation (though maybe with a little acts of service thrown in, likely a result of having been a soldier literally made to serve Heaven for hundreds of thousands of years). Dean, on the other hand, gets acts of service most, but has a round each on gifts and quality time. In a way, all three do seem to fit Dean; he'll bitch and moan and drag his feet, but he does things for people (like buying kale despite hating it himself) to show he cares, first and foremost.
Now that Sam has an idea where the problem is, he can reasonably conclude that he's basically clueless as to how to go about actually doing anything about it. Cas needs somebody to tell him outright how they feel, and Dean shows he cares through his actions. To get them to sort some things out, he's gonna need Cas to maybe start doing things for Dean and Dean to actually talk about his feelings.
Now normally, Sam would try to push Cas first, as he's definitely easier to work with in situations where there's no monster in sight, but given the whole 'earning his keep' talk and the fact that Cas clearly feels he needs to perform in order to be accepted here, Sam's not exactly ready to rush off to tell Cas he needs to start doing stuff for Dean to show that he cares. More than anything, Sam wants their relationship to be a good one, and playing into Cas' insecurities isn't a good way to start a nice, healthy relationship.
So he goes to Dean and says point blank, "You should tell Cas how you feel." Dean had been eating before Sam said this, so he just kind of chokes on his sandwich for a few seconds, but Sam continues, "He won't pick up on something if you don't explicitly tell him, and all this unsaid stuff between you two is just hurting both of you."
"The hell did this come from?" Dean manages to choke out before his face changes into something more serious, solemn. "Did Cas…say something?"
"Does he need to? It's not like you can't figure out these things with a look or anything…" Sam waits for a retort, but Dean stays quiet, which is weird on a normal day but really weird given the curse. Is it wearing off? "Dean?" Dean grunts into his sandwich. "Look, I'm just trying to help, okay? It just seems like Cas has been having a hard time lately and a few words of encouragement could really go a long way. Especially if they come from you."
Dean just takes a huge bite of his sandwich and doesn't reply, and it's then that Sam realizes he must've found a loophole, since he can't admit to much when he can't talk. Sam's never thought of Dean as an idiot, but he has to admit, he didn't see that one coming at all. That explains why the fridge has been emptying so quickly this past week…
Less than an hour later, he finds Cas staring at a wall intently, obviously thinking about something. Sam barely gets the question to ask what's bothering him out before Cas is answering, "Dean spoke to me about being human. Particularly, if I've been enjoying sleeping some nights or if I need to eat yet. He…he offered to prepare microwave burritos."
Cas' voice is shaking just the slightest bit, face sad but resigned. "What's the problem with that?" Sam asks slowly, gently, like he's a frightened victim of one monster or another.
"That's what he made last time."
"Last time?"
"Before he told me I couldn't stay. At the time, I thought he might've been angry at me for what happened with the reaper possessing April, though if I could take it back—"
"Hey, whatever happened with April isn't your fault, okay?" Sam's soul got cozy in the Cage for far too long for him not to recognize the signs of victim blaming right away, and he just can't stand back and hear Cas talk about how it's his fault he was raped, how it's his fault he was forced into something he didn't want to do by someone only trying to hurt him. "Seriously, no matter what, don't blame yourself for it."
"But April wasn't even able to consent—"
"Neither were you, by the sounds of it."
"I…I could've fought it. I wanted to, and if it hadn't been raining and I wasn't bleeding—"
"Cas, seriously, man, don't do this to yourself, okay? It's not good to blame yourself for something you were a victim in." The angel just looks down at his hands, obviously silently blaming himself, and Sam sighs, carefully rerouting to what started this conversation. "Dean offers stuff because he cares. That's…that's his way of saying that he cares about you."
"But the burritos—"
"Are just a cheap brand we can throw in the microwave and eat," Sam finishes for him, not liking how lost Cas looks. "You go shopping with Dean all the time. You know we buy them a lot."
"It seemed…different, being offered one. More significant, especially since he asked before any were actually being cooked…"
Cas always seems to read way too much into something or, infuriatingly, not enough, with zero in between. "He was just asking if you needed anything. Trust me."
"I trust you," Cas replies seriously.
A few years ago, Sam probably would've jumped for joy at the idea of an angel trusting him just out of merit, like how he'd internally freaked out for those few seconds when he first met angels before it became clear how they viewed him, but now, all he does is shift a little awkwardly and pat Cas' shoulder in solidarity before retreating to another room.
It turns out that those microwave burritos, of all things, end up being the thing that really gets the ball rolling. Dean makes Cas one without the angel saying a word and Cas just stares at it for a few minutes until Dean jokes about it not being able to bite him, all while Sam tries his hardest to focus on his own burrito and not on whatever sex joke Dean's about to spew.
That's why he's so surprised when Cas says (probably due to the spell because he's a Winchester now and practically has the words 'I'm fine' tattooed onto his forehead like the rest of them, unfortunately), "I'm not afraid of it biting me, I'm afraid of what it means. Because of what happened the last time I had one."
"Indigestion?" Dean guesses, awkwardness and discomfort nearly tangible.
"You asked me to leave the Bunker, back when I was human." The following silence is paradoxically deafening. "Sam said you weren't planning on asking me to leave again, but that was before you asked about the state of my grace…" Dean keeps on gaping like a fish, but before Sam can interject and spare any more hurt feelings, Cas adds quietly, "If…if you're going to ask me to leave again, I'd rather you just get it over with. At least it won't be a surprise this time."
"Whoa, hey, nobody's asking you to leave, buddy." A wave of guilt washes Dean's face as he realizes aloud, "Guess I didn't exactly ask last time, though, huh."
"'Last time,'" Cas repeats, lifting his shaking hands up just to incorrectly throw in some air quotes, "implies that there's a next time. Is this next time?"
"There's no next time."
"My powers are significantly weaker now than they've ever been, possibly ever. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to be of use to you or be able to protect you."
"Cas, I'm not gonna kick you out for that. Didn't we just go over this? You're allowed to stay here, y'know, with us. With…with me…and stuff. Y'know, if you want."
"But without my grace—"
"I don't give a crap about your mojo, Cas. Makes no difference to me," Dean snaps, which is just all the wrong things to say judging by how Cas' face just…crumbles. "I mean…crap."
"It's okay, Dean. I understand."
Dean physically shutters. "That's what you said last time."
"Yes." There's a long pause before Cas' gaze drops to the table as he admits, "I don't understand. I didn't then, either. I don't want to go."
"No one's asking you to go, man. Just 'cause your powers are on the fritz doesn't mean you have to leave."
"But last time—"
"Last time was because Sammy was sick and that-that dick angel possessing him said it was him or you. It wasn't because you didn't have your powers," Dean says, voice wavering between firm and awkward, occasionally glancing at Sam. Sam just tries to stay out of all this, more than glad that they're actually talking. "It was just…bad timing for a bad situation."
"You had to save Sam. I understand. I just regret that I didn't have my grace and couldn't help him myself, that you were forced to rely on an angel—"
"An angel that was just as much a manipulative scumbag as the rest?" Dean's biting remark makes Cas' entire face fall all over again. "Damnit. I meant the other ones. Gotta be some reason why you choose to slum it up with the mud-monkeys, right?"
"I stay here because I love you," Cas says softly, hunching deeper into his trench coat comfort blanket, and Sam actually can't contain the shocked, choking sound that comes out of his mouth, though neither of the other occupants of the table even glance towards him.
"Well, I…I know I do a lousy job of showing it, but, uh…me too, pal." The 'pal' probably takes away from it, but if Cas even picks up on the…platonicization, he doesn't show it, instead silently staring at Dean. "Look, I know the past…has been more downs than ups, but listen, I swear that no matter what—no matter how big a fight we get into or what happens in the future—you're never gonna be kicked out again, okay? This is your home, too, Cas, and if those dickbag angels wanna give you the boot and keep you out, screw them. For however long you want it, no strings attached, grace or no grace, no matter how much sleep or food or whatever you need…this place is your home, too."
Sam's not surprised to glance up and see that Cas looks like he might cry, but he is a little surprised by the sight of matching tears in Dean's eyes. Neither of them ever look away from each other, but Sam's still too afraid to move a muscle as Dean, after great hesitation and some mid-air trajectory reevaluation, puts a hand on Cas' shoulder. Instead of a platonic buddy-buddy shoulder pat, he just leaves it there and they stare at each other, and Sam feels like he's intruding but is afraid all the progress they've made will just go right down the drain if he dares to move or say anything and remind them of the world outside of each other's eyes.
In the end, he doesn't have to, since Dean eventually clears his throat, asking gruffly despite his voice breaking a little, "You get it through your thick angel skull this time?" Cas doesn't move, frozen until Dean asks a little softer, "There any way to make it up to you?"
"I already forgave you."
"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't have."
"Well, I have."
"Okay." Dean bites his lip and nods, obviously forcing back tears in a way that makes Sam wonder if maybe the spell doesn't just loosen their tongues. "Okay," Dean repeats, only now patting Cas' shoulder lightly before removing his hand entirely. It's a long moment in which they all stare down at their cold microwave burritos before Dean lets out a watery sort of chuckle. "Damn, what's with these things and making everybody cry? Anybody want theirs reheated?"
Cas doesn't indicate anything one way or the other, but when Dean stands with his own half-eaten burrito, he wordlessly takes Cas' plate, too, never sparing Sam a glance. Sam actually wouldn't be surprised if they forgot he's here, though he's proven wrong when Cas looks over at him, obviously still affected by Dean's words.
"Dean's right, Cas," Sam begins after a moment, not wanting to take away from what Dean said but add to it, though he knows his words won't mean as much to Cas as Dean's do, as has always been the case when it comes to Dean and Castiel. "No matter what happens, you'll always have a place here. You'll always have a home to come back to for as long as you want it."
Sam's never really had a home that he can remember, so despite being mostly adjusted, he's still struggling with the idea of actually having a place to come back to, too. Dean had four years of normalcy and Sam had six months he can't even remember, and if the idea is overwhelming to them, he can really only imagine what it might be like to be as old as Cas and never really having a place to put down any roots, never having a place to just…come back to without any expectations or obligations hanging over his head, never having to do anything to earn a place to stay or anything.
He relates to Cas in a lot of ways, really. They both defied their fathers and everyone around them for one thing or another—Sam for college and a taste of the apple pie life and Cas for Dean—both do their worst when they try their hardest to do their best, both try to see the good in everyone (though Sam's rapidly growing out of that nowadays)… All in all, Sam's just happy that after all the angel's sacrifices and how hard he's been trying, Cas gets to have a home, too.
Dean, for his part, just returns with the reheated burritos and sets Cas' still unopened one in front of him, expressing simply, "Damn straight. Dig in, Cas."
Sam bites his tongue to refrain from commenting on his choice of words and finishes his cold burrito. They've made incredible progress today, and he can't help but feel a bit like a proud dog parent watching the two new puppies get along. There's still lots to teach them and lots of stuff to work through, but for now, he lets them have this moment and quietly retreats to his room.
-
Sam's not-so-internally freaking out. Dean would kill him if he knew Sam lost his angel, but he really has no idea where Cas could've gone. He'd just taken Cas to a nearby farmer's market that Dean just blew a raspberry at upon hearing about his plans for the day and one minute, he was showing Cas a weird display of locally grown butternut squash that had been next to the honey stand and the next, Cas had disappeared.
So now he has to consider his options. Calling Cas is out since he's pretty notorious for never answering his phone (Sam's not entirely convinced he even knows how to check his messages), and he'd consider praying to Cas to ask him where he's at, but Cas only ever answers the prayers of one Winchester, and it's not Sam, and calling Dean to ask him to call or pray to Cas will mean Dean knows Sam lost his angel.
Luckily, Sam has the advantage of height that lets him see over everybody's heads and long legs that take him around the area quickly, but he's this close to calling out for Cas like he's a lost dog when he finally sees a flash of tan in a distant field. Sam doesn't waste any time in heading over to him, despite knowing Cas is way older than him and definitely capable of being off on his own. Still, it would've been nice if Cas said he planned on wandering off…
With some effort, instead of being too confrontational, he just asks once he's close enough to see the angel sitting in the field, surrounded by tall grass and flowers, "Cas? What are you doing way out here?"
"Picking flowers," Cas replies simply, adding yet another dandelion to his bundle of dandelions. "You said flowers are a way to show romantic interest in someone." Sam forces back a comment and just nods, worst fears confirmed when, to his amusement, Cas continues, "These are for Dean. Do you think he'll like them?"
Sam looks at the sloppy bundle of plucked flowers in Cas' hands, spotting the whitish sap sticking to Cas' hands, though the angel seems more concerned with the…bouquet of mostly dandelions that he's holding. "From you? Yeah." Cas smiles proudly, nodding at his creation before carefully adding another dandelion to it. Sam clears his throat softly. "Uh, Cas? You know people don't usually give people…dandelions, right?"
"Why not?"
"They're considered weeds by a lot of people."
Cas looks personally affronted by that, bringing them closer to his chest like he plans on defending them from other people's opinions. "I like them."
"You're allowed to like them, I just thought you should know." The angel suddenly looks a little less certain than a few minutes ago, so Sam assures, "Dean will probably like them too, if you give it to him." Cas hums thoughtfully, turning the bundle, and Sam watches for a minute before trusting Cas to be safe here alone. "Hey, I'm gonna keep shopping. I'll meet you at the truck whenever you're ready to go, okay?"
Cas gives no indication that he heard Sam, but worst case scenario, Sam just calls him later and asks where he is, which does end up being the case when Sam finishes going to each and every stand and talking to some of the people there with philosophies that don't revolve around classic rock and truckstop food and finds that Cas still isn't at the truck. He messages Cas a few times, and after a few minutes, the messages appear as read.
When Cas does come to the truck, his bundle doesn't look much bigger than it did before, though there are noticeably less dandelions in it. Sam's almost afraid to ask, but when he does, Cas just evasively says something about not wanting to present Dean with a bouquet of weeds, making him feel bad for saying anything at all.
He drives them back to the Bunker, and after preemptively texting Dean and telling him not to be a dick with zero context to go with the message, they get out of the truck. Sam takes his time grabbing a few of the paper bags of fruits and vegetables he'd bought, since Cas ends up doing the Cas equivalent of running full-speed into the Bunker like an excited little kid, flowers in hand. Sam ends up getting stuck trying to open the door leading from the garage to the Bunker, and by the time he reaches the kitchen, the flowers are inside one of their whiskey glasses on the table.
Sam smiles a little at that, glad Cas' unconventional gift was apparently well-received, and continues sneaking vegetables into the fridge while Dean and Cas are…somewhere. By the time he's finished unloading all the new groceries, he still hasn't seen either of them, and the Bunker's suspiciously silent.
He really tries not to get his hopes up, but honestly can't help it as he roams from room to room looking for them, finally stopping in front of Dean's door, already cracked open. He carefully nudges it a little further, and that's where he finds Dean and Cas, squished hip to hip on Dean's bed with a laptop between them, heads dropped against each other's shoulders, both clearly asleep. Picking flowers must've really taken a lot out of Cas if he's tired enough to fall asleep, but in light of their position, Sam doesn't think of it as a bad thing for now.
Of course, when they wake up, neither of them say a word about what happened, but they keep glancing at each other and smiling before looking away again. Sam has no idea what else might've happened, but he's glad whatever went down occurred, since he's never been more hopeful that Destiel might actually become canon than he is now.
Dean, as predicted, later bitches about the amount of green now tarnishing the fridge, but Sam's able to distract him by asking about the flowers. Instead of getting all embarrassed, Dean just grins, fondly looking through the doorway at Cas, who's reading a book with a full-on squint in the library.
"Isn't he a little angel?"
"Uh…yeah, Dean. Last I checked, he's an angel."
"Mm, damn right, he is…"
Sam still has no idea what to make of that conversation, and it only gets worse as the day progresses. A hunter a few states over needs help with researching a spell, and Cas decides to attempt to test the spell they think it is. This is all well and good, but when Sam makes a joke about Cas getting some of the grosser ingredients on his coat, Cas actually takes it off entirely, leaving him in the purple flannel and too-big jeans he'd stolen from Dean nearly a week ago; Dean has yet to take his eyes off of Cas' ass as the angel attempts to be productive, and Sam just attempts to keep his lunch down.
"He's so hot," Dean mutters appreciatively, a big stupid grin on his face. Sam's pretty sure he pukes in his mouth, but somehow manages to hold his tongue. "Mhm, look at those eyes, those lips, those thighs. You ever seen his hip bones? Could cut glass with those things. If only he didn't bundle up like an Eskimo nun all the time… Do Eskimos have nuns?"
It's obscene, and if this is an indicator for what's to come, Sam's beginning to doubt whether he wants to get them together or not. But this isn't about him, and Dean's obnoxious…appreciations aside, this is the happiest he can remember either of them ever being. Who's he to take that away from them?
So he keeps it up. He helps Cas make a pie for Dean that actually has Dean in tears when he's presented with a slice. He helps Dean realize that actions can only help solidify verbal admissions with Cas, which makes Cas realize what Dean had been showing him without words all along. He helps Cas learn all of Dean's favorites because if there's one way to Dean's heart, it's through the food he'd been deprived of as a kid to let Sam eat when there wasn't enough. He helps Dean pick up the courage to make stuff with Cas, citing that they all know Sam burns water and shouldn't be anywhere near a stove. He helps Cas get the idea to hold Dean's hand the next time they're all in the Impala. He helps give Dean the push he needs to branch off into pet names beyond 'buddy' and 'pal' (though Dean still does use them weirdly frequently). He helps Cas know how to silently show Dean he loves him, and at the same time, helps Dean verbally tell Cas the same.
It really has been something special watching Dean and Cas' relationship unfold and giving them small nudges to keep up with the progress. It hasn't all been easy, like when Cas first thought Dean was trying to cook with him because he hadn't been doing it right or when Dean thought Cas' acts of service were out of obligatory like Heaven had demanded of him for so long, but through it all, Dean and Cas' love for each other and profound bond prevailed.
Still, despite all the times he's walked in on Dean forcing Cas to watch Doctor Sexy, M.D. or Tombstone or some other crappy thing, or Cas becoming convinced Dean actually likes the dandelion centerpiece on the kitchen table and that he's not just fond of it because Cas made it but Dean not having the heart to correct him, or the whole misunderstanding regarding Dean's use of the pet name 'angel' (which has since become one of Cas' favorites, Sam thinks, though he seems to love all of them), Sam can't hardly believe they'd ever gotten to this point, where he can sit in front of a laptop and book reservations for a fancier restaurant under the name 'Winchester,' let alone book it for two people instead of three.
"It's booked," Sam informs Dean quietly, since Dean had been too busy twiddling his thumbs and not making the reservation before Sam came in and offered to help. "Do you…uh, need help picking something to wear?"
"What, they don't allow leather jackets?"
"I'm sure Cas would like you in anything," (Sam very nearly does vomit at that), "but maybe try ditching the flannel, just for the first date."
"First date," Dean repeats, sounding almost breathless, running a hand through his hair. "Can't believe it's…"
Dean cuts himself off, but Sam doesn't comment and goes to help him pick out something nice, which is difficult when basically all either of them own is flannel and denim. In the end, Dean ends up with a weirdly nice dark green button-up shirt and some darker jeans, which is basically his equivalent of pulling out all the stops as far as dressing up goes. Dean goes off to shower before his date instead of immediately putting anything on, and Sam tries and fails not to feel like a proud parent, wondering if this is how Dean felt when he'd gotten Sam all ready for his first few dates back when he was in, like, 7th grade.
He tries not to think about it and seeks out Cas, who's trying and failing to style his hair in front of a mirror in the bathroom. "Need some help?" he asks sympathetically as the angel nods glumly, relinquishing the hairbrush. "Here, let me…"
Sam makes quick work of Cas' hair, purposefully keeping it a little on the messy side as opposed to going full-on choir boy. Once he's done with that, he also helps Cas pick an outfit, though he ends up spending more time convincing him to leave the trench coat at home than he does picking out a plain blue button-up and the same slacks Cas used to wear all the time before swapping to Dean's clothes.
He leaves Cas to finish whatever else he has to do before meeting Dean in the hallway. Now committing to mirroring the 7th grade, Sam makes sure to dump all kinds of arbitrary rules relating to social etiquette on his brother, telling him to hold all the doors and be nice and all that, only partially joking. Not that Cas would even know the difference, they both know, given that this is his first date ever. Actually, come to think of it, it's one of Dean's first dates, too, as he usually skips straight to…other stuff.
Sam sits as inconspicuously as possible for someone of his stature in an otherwise empty library room as Dean paces in front of the staircase. Finally, Cas comes out to join him, and Sam glances up from his phone (with which he's taking dozens of pictures) just in time to watch Dean's eyes trace up and down Cas' form while Cas' never strays from Dean's face.
"Ready to go, sunshine?" Dean eventually rasps out.
"Yes." It seems Dean actually does take his teasing advice to heart, leading Cas up the stairs before fumbling with the door. "I think I'm excited. But…also nervous."
"Yeah, me too…" They both walk about the main door, but return a few seconds later, Dean's face bright red and clearly flustered and Cas just tilting his head as he's pulled behind him by the arm (which isn't very romantic, but Cas doesn't seem to mind). "Damnit…"
"Wrong door?" Sam calls out once they disappear, but Dean just yells a harsh, 'Shut up!' back. Figuring he's already broken his vow of silence, he adds, "Call me if you guys need anything, but have fun, okay? It's just the two of you."
He doesn't get a reply and has no idea if they even heard him, but given what they're about to do, Sam doesn't take it personally, instead listening as the Impala pulls out and drives away. At that point, it's a waiting game, so Sam occupies himself with binging TV shows even he knows are crappy up until he hears the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine as Dean and Cas return.
He stalks out of his room to peek in on them as they both come out of the garage, phone ready, and watches as Dean shifts awkwardly in the doorway and Cas stares at him with a head so far tilted that it's nearly sideways. If they're talking, he can't hear anything, though given their propensity for staring and not for talking, Sam's not particularly worried.
That is, until Dean nods to himself and pushes past Cas with a dangerously platonic pat on the shoulder, scurrying off presumably to his room, obliviously flustered. Sam takes one look at Cas, who's somehow tilting his head even further to the side, and determines him not to be a flight risk before intercepting Dean with a, "Dude, what the hell?"
"What?" Dean snaps, obviously embarrassed.
"You know exactly what. What just happened in there?"
"Nothing." Sam gives him a look. "Nothing! I don't know! I panicked, okay? Why don't you try looking at Cas and thinking about finally getting to kiss him after way too damn many years!"
"Uh, yeah, no problems there," Sam mutters, making Dean look even more flustered. "So you were, what, overwhelmed?"
"Well…yeah!" Dean, obviously frustrated by either the curse or himself, continues almost angrily, "A date, that could mean anything, and Cas sure as hell wouldn't have a clue what half of those things are. But a kiss—that's pretty freakin' clear, even to Cas!" Dean pauses, exhaling through his nose. "It…it'd change things, Sam. And what I have with Cas now? It's pretty damn good."
"You don't wanna risk it," Sam realizes aloud, and to his surprise, Dean nods, though his jaw does tighten. "So, what, you wanna wait until Cas kisses you first? Might be a pretty long wait, since all his other…experiences were kind of…coerced."
He winces the second the word comes out, but Dean's expression hardens. "All the more reason to wait 'til he initiates. Dude's had enough 'coercion' for a lifetime."
That's…a surprisingly mature mindset to take, really, and Sam has no doubts that he wouldn't be hearing about it were it not for the spell Rowena put on him. Still, given Cas' past, not to mention his entire life under Heaven's thumb, it's actually pretty respectable of Dean to want to wait until Cas initiates something. That said, it's also more than a little frustrating, since Sam knows Cas is incredibly unlikely to ever kiss Dean without his explicit permission (a throwback to angels needing permission to possess someone, maybe?).
So, in order to get the idiots to kiss and break the spell, thereby going past the point of no return and solidifying their relationship once and for all, he needs to get Dean to give his permission to being kissed, either in the midst of it all or beforehand. Given Dean's usual reluctance to do anything involving feelings or emotions, this task seems impossible, but with the curse…it's still basically impossible. Great.
"Why don't you just ask Cas if he wants to be kissed? You know he'll answer honestly." With the spell's help, he has no choice, though Sam doesn't say that.
"Honestly because he actually wants it, or honestly 'cause he thinks that's what I want?"
Sam…can't actually answer that, knowing that the truth is subjective and that knowing Cas, being forced to speak his mind is more than likely going to dip into both of those options. He can practically count on one hand the amount of times Cas asked for something because he himself needed it, let alone wanted it, and then there's the whole war in Heaven he was fighting in which he and Dean continuously ignored his pleas for help in favor of asking him to help out with their problems instead, which he did basically every time despite how busy he must've been…
At the same time, Dean's not exactly one to ask for what he wants, either, though he's usually more forward in the…what Sam is generously calling the 'relationship' area. He would rather avoid having to be the one to teach Cas how to pick up on the tells that someone wants to be kissed at all costs, which leaves him with maybe getting them both to admit it at the same time. With these two morons, it's easier said than done, for sure…
The next three days, Sam spends scheming, trying to think of a good way to get the local idiots to talk things about. Those same three days, Dean and Cas are practically attached at the hip—even more so than usual—and never seem to spend more than half an hour apart, which is certainly promising as far as getting them to finally break the spell goes but also infuriating due to the fact that they haven't broken it yet despite all this.
In those three days, Sam can't even count the number of times he's caught them watching crap TV together, eating side by side, voluntarily sharing a bed (or one armchair, as it were) now that Cas apparently sleeps at night more often than not… That's not even mentioning all the staring, which is all but constant as usual and now also paired with hand holding after Sam jokingly suggested it to Cas one time on the second day.
Through it all, they never actually kiss, and it's just so frustrating because Sam just doesn't know what to do, now reconsidering the idea of just shoving them both in a closet already. Normally, he'd be content with just letting nature take its course and watching the two work through it at their own pace, but given how long they've been in love and how equally long they haven't been acknowledging that, Sam's really given up any hope of that happening, not to mention that Dean had asked him to start researching ways to break the curse again and Sam couldn't think of a good way to squirm out of it without admitting he knows the cure.
Honestly, though, telling them the cure is looking more and more like the best course of action these days. As much as he'd rather avoid it, it'd be a surefire way to get them to kiss already. At the same time, he doesn't want either of them thinking the kiss was only to become cured, so he mostly holds his tongue and tolerates it, knowing it'll only get a lot worse when they actually go through with it. He settles for just strongly implying to each of them separately to kiss and offers no explanations as to why.
Rowena digs for updates frequently, seeming more amused than anything that it's taking so long, but Sam doesn't really update her on the situation more than just telling her that the curse is still unbroken and Dean and Cas are still spouting whatever thoughts come to mind with very little inhibition. Which basically means that now that they're slowly allowing themselves to become closer and move more towards officially being a couple, Sam has to sit through Dean…appreciating various parts of Cas' body and Cas' frequent soliloquies about how nice Dean's soul apparently is or how much Cas loves one aspect of his personality or another.
(More often than not, these soliloquies are delivered in Enochian, which makes sense in a way, given that that'd be Cas' native language. Sam knows a little Enochian through his time spent in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer, who almost exclusively spoke it, as he assumes angels default to when English-speaking humans aren't around, so he knows enough Enochian to know that Cas is a complete and utter sap, but thankfully not enough to know the specifics. It never really occurred to Sam that Cas probably has to mentally translate just about everything he says to them and vice versa.)
He hopes that whenever the spell is broken, either through Dean and Cas talking things out or through him walking up and shoving their dumb faces together until they start making out, he won't have to endure any more of these types of…conversations with either of them. He's pretty sure Dean's just doing it to piss him off, anyway, though Cas seems genuinely clueless about how weird it is that he's all but writing poetry about his brother and telling him about it.
Sam's golden opportunity ends up coming unexpectedly in the form of a movie night he's probably only invited to because it's a cheesy romantic movie with a plotline so generic that he can barely stomach it, allowing Dean to vacuum up all the popcorn. Dean's been a bit of a dick lately and seems to really be honing in on his sixth sense of how to be an annoying big brother, but given that Sam is kind of responsible for the curse that loosened his emotionally constipated lips, he can't really do anything about it but sit there and suck it up.
Nonetheless, when the couple on the screen kisses at sunset just before the end credits begin and their joined figures fade to black, Cas notes aloud, "He asked her to stay."
"Yeah." Sam rubs at his eyes, as if that can erase the last eighty-seven awful minutes of cliches he'd been forced to endure, the horrible pop music ending song about soulmates making him wish he were back in the Cage. He'd rather have watched Die Hard for the eighty-thousandth time.
"Why?"
If Sam were in a more sympathetic mood, he might've explained it to the angel, but as is, he just replies with just a dash of smartass that Cas probably doesn't even pick up on anyway, "Maybe because he wanted her to stay."
That makes Cas frown before turning to Dean, whose arm and leg are all but fused to Cas' with how close they're sitting as he licks butter off his fingertips. "Dean, why have you never asked me to stay? You've said that I can remain here if I wish, but never expressed that you wanted me to."
Dean looks as caught off guard as Sam feels, but still fumbles out, "Didn't want you to feel like you had to. I mean, you always bail for a reason, right?"
"I didn't think you wanted me to stay. I never wanted to…'overstay my welcome,'" the angel says, hands still raised for his misused air quotes even long after the sentence leaves his mouth.
"'Course I want you here," Dean's quick to refute. "I just thought you never wanted to stick around, and the last thing I wanted to do was to make you feel obligated or anything."
"Why would I feel obligated?"
"Why else would you stay?"
Cas squints at Dean like he's being particularly dense, stating with heart-stopping simplicity, "Because I love you."
"I…uh…y'know…yeah," is Dean's amazing reply as he nods to himself then stands abruptly, sending the last little spark of hope that had been building within Sam down to die in the depths of Hell. "I'm gonna get more popcorn. You wanna come with?"
Cas nods slowly and follows earnestly, if a little dejectedly, though he only points out mildly as the two leave presumably for the kitchen, "The movie is over, Dean. Is it customary to make more popcorn even after the movie is finished?"
Sam debates on what to do, but when the credits start playing another song he can't stand, it really is the last straw that has him jumping up from his armchair and following Dean and Cas into the kitchen, only to pause at the sight of them even closer than usual, Cas loosely holding a new, unopened bag of popcorn in one hand and Dean holding onto that wrist as if to stop it. He's pretty sure they both know he's there, but instead of suddenly breaking away or anything, they just keep on staring until it becomes really awkward for Sam to still be there.
Just as he turns around and starts his hasty retreat, however, there's a cacophony of what he recognizes as the sharp sounds of glass breaking as all the lights in the Bunker suddenly explode, plunging all three of them into darkness. A second later, there's a dull thump that's probably the sound of the bag of microwave popcorn dropping to the ground, which makes the moment seem just a little more hysterical.
"Damnit, Cas," Dean mutters after a solid five seconds have passed, though he sounds more amused than annoyed. "What happened?"
"I-I'm not sure. My grace as well as my vessel seem to have reacted quite strongly when you did that…strange thing with your tongue and grabbed my—"
"Okay!" Sam interrupts, hands up in defense. "Cas, don't you dare finish that sentence!"
"What's the matter, Sammy? I thought you wanted this," Dean says, sounding way too smug for his own good. "Weren't you the one counseling me on how I should just plant one on him already? And at least we're all spell-free now, right? All good to keep it all in again and everything."
"Sam has been suggesting I do the same," Cas states, head tilt practically audible. "Did you know that would lift the spell, Sam?"
Sam can practically feel the confused, squinted eyes locked onto him as Dean answers before he can even open his mouth, "'Course he did. He's the one who sicced Rowena on us in the first place."
"Rowena?"
There's a noise Sam can only pray is Dean patting Cas' shoulder. "I'll explain it later. Until then, how's about you and me get outta here?"
"But Dean, the lights—"
"I've got my phone flashlight. Why bother fixing them when they're just gonna blow right back out?"
Cas hums in obvious confusion at that, but instead of commenting, expresses worriedly, "Dean, you're still behaving strangely. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Buddy, I've never been better." That was definitely not a shoulder Dean just smacked.
"Guys, what the hell, I'm still here. And are you seriously still calling Cas 'buddy'? You just kissed!"
"How do you know? It's not like you can see anything."
"Yeah, that's how I know," Sam grumbles to himself.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know that would happen. Dean just startled me when he—"
"It's fine, Cas," he rushes to say, desperate not to hear just what amazing thing Dean might've done. "No harm done, I'll just…go out and get some lightbulbs. From the store."
"There are lightbulbs in the storage room," Cas tells him, so crushingly earnest that Sam could almost burst out laughing—if he didn't want to leave the Bunker as fast as possible, that is.
He doesn't need to see Dean's face to know what's on his agenda tonight…hopefully after a long discussion about limits and honesty, though, so that Cas knows he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want (though given that it's Dean and Cas is probably something like demisexual, Sam's not too worried. He cares about Cas, definitely, but Dean loves him).
"No, that's okay, I need to get out anyway. Might not be back until morning, actually." He trips his way up the stairs, barely able to see a few inches in front of his face and going mostly on muscle memory and praying he doesn't crack his skull open. "You two…uh, have fun. Try not to level the Bunker. And maybe talk about things first, huh?"
"I don't understand. Why would we level the Bunker?"
He can practically hear the smirk in Dean's tone as he replies in what Sam can unfortunately recognize as his flirty voice, "Oh, angel, if you think that was a lot, just you wait. That was just the tip of the iceberg."
"You have an iceberg?" Cas asks, baffled, and that's thankfully the last thing Sam hears before he slams the door behind him.
If they're gonna be like this all the time, he'd better buy enough lightbulbs to provide for a small country for a decade. Unwilling to see what else they plan on destroying, Sam jumps into a car and hits the road, waiting until he's a good twenty miles away before he relaxes enough to call Rowena.
"Ah, Samuel. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Two hundred dollars, that's what you owe."
"Ohh, did the wee angel and the dashing apple of his eye finally break the spell?"
"Oh, they're about to do a whole lot more than that." Rowena hums, sounding beyond amused, and Sam wastes no time in asking the important questions: "What do you have as far as soundproofing warding goes? Or minor memory erasing spells, for that matter."
He never imagined he'd ever willingly call up a witch to ask for a spell to erase his memory, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Sam's unfortunately very aware of how little shame his brother can have in these types of situations, and though it might be different with Cas because Dean actually knows and cares about him, Sam's not naive enough to believe for a second that he won't ever walk in on anything he'd rather have never seen, especially during their little honeymoon phase.
Growing up, Sam would dream of escaping the hunting life and breaking free, of living the life he wanted with maybe a wife and a few kids, and the best part is, not only can he still have that if he chooses to, but Dean and Cas can, too. Sure, Sam might still have to sit and listen to each side try to figure out how to best tell the other something, and he might have to work with each of them separately to help them pick out something nice to wear on their dates (and sit back proudly when Dean fumbles over his words when he sees Cas and Cas almost bashfully compliments the color of Dean's shirt and how it matches his eyes, which was of course Sam's intention because he knows Cas would notice something like that), but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
It wasn't easy by any means, and though he still disagrees with the name, Sam can finally, honestly say that Destiel is now canon, Dean and Cas are together, and all is right in the world—even if Dean does still call Cas 'buddy' on the regular and Sam has lots of spells to cast on himself for the foreseeable future.
Now, he wonders what type of spell it'd take to get a marriage on the horizon…