Fic: Conversations with Sam Winchester
Wahey, fic! I really enjoyed writing this one. Don't know why, just really enjoyed it.
Title: Conversations with Sam Winchester
Author: carmexgirl
Rating: PG-13 for language and stuff
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Warnings: Exasperated!Sam, general daftness
Spoilers: Up to and including 5.13
Word Count: 5,555 (yes, really!)
Summary: Sam doesn't really know how he gets himself into these situations
Author’s Notes: I promised onetouchspark I'd write something fluffy, so here it is :D This is written from Sam's POV. I had an idea to do a companion piece from Dean's POV, if anyone's interested?
It’s a surprise when Castiel corners him on his own one day, seemingly desperate to talk. Sam’s never been particularly close to Castiel before, so it’s slightly confusing that Castiel wants to talk to him instead of Dean. Their relationship had changed for the better in recent times, ever since Castiel admitted to him that he was his friend, and he would not let anyone, angel, demon or anything else kill him. He now feels more relaxed around Castiel, and Cas seemingly feels easier around him, though all this does not explain why he’s now standing in front of him, eyes down, shifting from foot to foot.
“Everything ok, Cas?” He asks, still a little wary.
“Everything is fine, Sam.” It doesn’t look it. He still won’t look him in the eye, and he’s still shuffling. If he were human, Sam would say he’s nervous. He’s an angel though, and as far as Sam knows, they don’t really feel anything let alone get apprehensive.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Uh, Dean’s not here. He’s gone to get supplies and he won’t be back for a while.”
“I know. I have already spoken to him and he told me your latest location. I came here specifically to speak to you.”
“Oh, right.” Sam furrows his brow in confusion. He can count on one hand the amount of conversations he’s had alone with Castiel. It’s not something he does-his brother has the monopoly on the angel’s time; he just stands in the background watching them talk.
“I need to ask your advice.”
Right, advice. He can do advice. He’s read tons of books, though he can’t really imagine knowing anything Castiel doesn’t. “Ok, Cas. What can I do for you?”
Castiel looks up, catching his eye before looking down again. “It’s a personal matter. Something I’ve not really had to deal with before.”
“Go on.” Sam starts to sweat a little. He’s not really in the mood for a man-to-man or man-to-angel talk, and he starts to fidget. He really should call Dean. Dean should be the one handling this.
Castiel is playing with the hem of his trench coat as he talks, still not looking at Sam. “As you know, I have cut myself off from heaven. In doing so, I have started to have…feelings.”
“Feelings? What kind of feelings?”
Again Castiel runs the hem of his trench coat between his thumb and forefinger. “Different ones. The other day I felt rather lonely, then I think I felt anger at Anna when she came for you; hope was another one when I found a lead on my Father and now…now I feel something that perplexes me.”
Oh god. He’s going to have to have ‘that’ conversation with an angel. Why him? Why not Dean? Sam huffs. “What is it?” He knows the answer, but he wants Castiel to tell him all the same.
“When I was in Heaven, my heart used to leap at the name of my Father. The mention of His name would cause me great joy, and a warmth gathered inside me just to know that He was near, that He was watching over me, thinking about me. Now, I think I feel that way for a mortal, a human and I can’t understand it. I don’t think I’m supposed to, but I do all the same. Explain this to me Sam, because I’ve tried to understand it but I can’t.”
Sam smiles at the earnest tone of Castiel’s voice. He truly is confused, truly is bewildered at all of these new feelings. “Dude,” he says, “You like someone. There’s nothing wrong in that. You’re cut off from Heaven and now you’re looking for the companionship you got from your brothers and God. That’s what this is, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
Castiel finally looks him in the eye, holds his gaze for more than a second. “This is troubling, Sam. Our feelings are normally reserved for the Lord.”
“No offence Cas but there’s precious little of him around at the moment. You’re stuck here, you’ve made friends here…it’s only natural you go that one step further and actually start to like someone. Heaven’s kinda closed for you now, so I guess that means you’re entitled to do what you want for a change.”
Castiel looks at him, thinks deeply for a few minutes while Sam stands there, hands patting his thighs lightly while he waits. Castiel’s face softens all of a sudden, as if the conflict in his mind has resolved itself. “You are very wise, Sam Winchester. Thank you.” There’s a flutter of wings, and Castiel is gone.
Sam walks over the almost threadbare carpet to the lumpy motel bed and sits there for a while, thinking. He doesn’t really know exactly what he did, but it seems to have eased Castiel’s conflict so he’s happy, he guesses. He wipes a small bead of sweat from his brow. Next time Cas wants to have a manly talk, Dean can definitely handle it.
The door swings open, and Dean walks in, heavily laden with bags. “Little help here,” he says, struggling with them before setting them down on the floor. He notices a small black feather near the bed. “Someone been here?” He asks suspiciously.
“Yeah. Cas.”
“Cas? Not Gabriel?” Dean’s eyes scan the room.
“Yeah just Cas.” Sam gets all defensive all of a sudden and he doesn’t know why. “He just came to have a talk.”
“What about?”
“I dunno, just a talk. You weren’t here so I helped him, and he left.”
“Wait a minute. You helped him, and he left?”
“Yeah, just left. He seemed happy enough”
“You helped him?” Dean furrows his brow and thinks for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Did he say he wanted to see me?”
“No. He wanted to see me.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.” Sam sighs. “Is there something wrong with that, Dean?”
“Nope. Nothin’ wrong.”
Dean flops down onto his bed. If Sam didn’t know any better, he would say Dean looks somewhat disappointed.
***
The second time Castiel appears to him is just as unexpected. Again Dean is otherwise occupied-the Impala was making a strange clunking sound as they drove to the motel, a sound which got louder and louder as they continued their journey, and which made Dean’s face paler and paler. As soon as they got to the motel, Dean was under the car trying to see what the hell was wrong. Sam knew they wouldn’t be on the move again until his baby was in perfect working order.
Sam’s just finished cleaning his teeth, being slightly obsessive about his breath and how his teeth always feel strangely furry after a long day on the road. He washes the water around his mouth, gargles and spits it out into the bowl. He looks up and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Castiel staring back at him through the mirror.
“Cas! What the hell? Don’t sneak up on people, especially not when there’s an apocalypse! Jeez.” Sam gets the distinct impression that the angel is actually following him.
Castiel grunts. “I’m sorry Sam. I just thought…that perhaps we could continue our discussion from the other day.”
Discussion? Oh yeah, that discussion. Sam grabs a towel and wipes his mouth. “Sure, Cas, sure.” He inwardly kicks himself, because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting himself into. “Err…Dean’s outside you know. Wouldn’t you rather have this conversation with him?”
“No, Sam, I wouldn’t.” Figures, Sam thinks bitterly, because Dean’s reputation with the ladies is famous for all the wrong reasons, and he remembers the last time Dean tried to give the angel advice. More accurately, he remembers Dean telling him through tears of laughter the last time he gave Castiel advice. He sighs.
“Fine, Cas. What’s the problem?”
Castiel isn’t as nervous this time. In fact, he’s more curious than apprehensive, which puts Sam at ease. “I was thinking about what you told me, about it being ok to like someone in the more romantic sense of the word. I was wondering…how would you go about telling that person that you liked them?”
Sam smiles to himself, and he can’t help but speculate on the type of girl Castiel would like. He decides that he must have met her on his travels, formed a rapport with her like he had with Dean, and wanted to take it further but really didn’t have a clue how. “Well…it kind of depends on the person, Cas. I mean, some people want little presents, like chocolates and flowers or something else they like…some will just want you to be honest with them and just tell them how you feel. Depends on the type of person they are.”
He thinks he can almost see Castiel’s mind whirring at this, thinking about all the possibilities. Sam suddenly feels a pang of guilt, because while, yeah, Castiel is a handsome man, he’s so awkward and aloof he’s not sure anyone would actually know he likes them. “I always find presents to be the best,” he adds. At least that takes away some of the sting if they reject him. Better to reject a present than a person.
“Presents?”
“Yeah. Something they’d really like. But don’t go overboard because you could scare them off.” Listen to yourself, he thinks. Like you’re the expert. He shudders when he realises that since Ruby, he hadn’t really had anyone notable. Still, at least his track record was better than Dean’s.
“Right,” Castiel nods enthusiastically. “So what I need to do is buy a present, something I know they would like. Then what?”
“Leave it somewhere they can find it easily, then wait to see if they like it. If they do, tell them you bought it and things should go from there.” It’s such a crock of shit and he knows it, but what is he supposed to tell him? You meet a girl in a bar, see if she seems into you then take her back to your motel? He remembers Dean telling him about the whorehouse, and Sam isn’t about to align himself with Dean. No, this should be handled completely differently.
“Ok. That should be easy, I think. I just need to think of something they’d like.”
“Flowers and chocolates. That’s always a winner.”
Castiel looks stern, lost in his own thoughts. “I don’t think that would go down too well. But there is definitely something I can get.” Sam swears he can see the cogs of that ancient brain moving, working overtime to find a solution to this particular problem. Before he can say anything else, there is a flutter and Castiel is gone once more. Sam turns back to the sink and sips more water, rolling it around his mouth as he thinks. He bets she looks like Anna. Although Anna went psycho on them, he got the sense that Castiel and her shared a past, so he surmises that anyone who would catch Castiel’s eye would probably look like Anna-long hair, pale, enticing eyes, radiating calmness but possessing strength. Yeah, that’s Castiel’s type.
He jumps when there’s a load bang on the door. “You decent in there? I need to piss, Sam.”
Sam opens the door and comes face to face with Dean, covered in oil. “There, finished,” he says, watching as Dean goes in. He walks out of the door and sits down on the edge of his bed.
“So what took so long in here? What…is this another black feather?”
“Yeah. Cas was here again.”
“He’s here?”
“No he’s not here now. He had to go.”
Suddenly the door bangs open and there’s Dean, staring at him like he’s angry or something. His jeans are barley on his hips and they’re open at the fly.
“Dude, tidy yourself up! I don’t want to see your junk!” Sam shields his eyes. Dean does nothing, just walks forward, small black feather in his hand.
“What the hell does he want with you, Sam? What are you two planning?”
“Dean nothing, I swear.” Sam can’t help thinking how ridiculous Dean looks, pants undone, waving a small feather at him.
“Then why does he keep coming to you, huh? Why is it that you and him seem to have your little ‘talks’ while I’m not here. Why hasn’t he called me in a week Sam, but he finds the time to see you?”
“I don’t know. I really…”
“And what’s with these talks anyhow? Why does he talk to you and not me?”
Sam stands up. “Dean,” he says loudly. “Calm down, ok? Look, I don’t know why he wants to talk to me, and I don’t know why he hasn’t called you but I guess he’s been occupied.”
“Occupied…with you?” Dean’s face is red. He looks really angry. Sam can feel the anger rising in him too. It’s typical of Dean to get jealous. He was ok when he and Cas went off and did their thing without him, but now he and Cas are friends, and Cas feels he can confide in him, Dean’s getting jealous because he can’t control them like he did before.
“We’re both not exclusively yours, Dean. We can talk to each other without you.”
“Not the point. A week, Sam. He could’ve been dead. Those angel bastards coulda caught up with him and fried him for all I know. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“We ARE a team Dean! It’s just you need to get with the program!” Sam throws his hands up in the air and walks out. There’s nothing else he can do when Dean’s like this, won’t listen to reason. Better to let him cool off, sort out his damn pants and regret what he’s said.
When he gets back to the motel an hour later, Dean’s still sulking on the bed. He throws him a beer, which Dean accepts, and they drink together, not talking about their earlier discussion.
A day later, and Dean’s still fixing the Impala. It’s the air cleaner, apparently. It’s rusted to hell but he can’t get another one that fits so he’s trying to improvise enough before they can get to Bobby’s. Sam decides he needs a break so takes him out for a burger and a beer, laughing as he turns on the charm to the waitress serving them, staring at her ass as she walks away. When they get back to the motel, Sam has a strange sense that something is wrong. They open the door, and there, sitting on Dean’s bed, is a large piece of metal, glinting in the evening sun streaming through the door.
“What the hell?” Sam says, pulling out his gun. Dean walks over to the bed, and inspects the object. Around it is a red bow. He lifts it up, and gasps slightly. “It’s a chrome air cleaner. 14 inch one, just like I need for the Impala. It’s…it’s in mint condition Sammy. There’s not a speck of rust or a dent on it.”
Sam can’t speak. He’s stunned.
“And there’s a note around the bow. It just has a kiss on it. Sammy? Who the hell did this?”
Oh shit. Oh shit. Sam knew exactly who did it, and wasn’t everything just a complete mess now?
His mind is whirring. It’s Dean. Castiel likes Dean. Oh god, and he’s the one who told him to go for it. Oh shit. But he didn’t…he didn’t know Castiel was talking about a guy, much less Dean. Dean! Dean who’s about as rampantly heterosexual as they come. Dean! Surely Cas should have realised. Surely…
“Sam? Sammy? Are you ok?” Dean had walked over to him and is now shaking him by the shoulder.
“Fine Dean. Fine.”
“What the hell is this? Who do you think did it? Gabriel?”
“No, no it’s not Gabriel. I mean, how would he know you needed an air cleaner?”
“Dunno. He’s the archangel, he probably knows everything.” Dean looks around suspiciously. “He could be watching us right now.”
“Dean, it’s definitely not him. I think…it’s just a present from an admirer, that’s all.”
Dean’s face lights up. “An ‘admirer’? Who’d do something like that?”
“Someone who’s stupid enough to take advice from Sam Winchester,” Sam mutters under his breath. He digs his nails into his palms, and hits the back of his head against the now closed door. How could he have missed it? Of course Castiel wouldn’t have met anyone substantial on his travels. Of course he and Dean were the only people he was close do. And, he couldn’t talk to Dean because he likes him, so it stands to reason he’d talk to Sam. Stupid, stupid idiot.
He has to put this right. He has to tell Castiel before he makes a complete ass of himself. “Maybe you should fix it to the car?” He offers, and can’t help but smile when Dean’s face lights up. “I gotta…um…go out for half an hour, so I’ll see you when I get back. You think you’ll have it fixed?”
“Yeah, probably. Back on the road in no time, right?”
“Right.” Sam nods, before walking off. He goes to the back of the motel, and pulls out his cell. “Cas,” he says, relief washing over him when the angel answers, “Cas you gotta get here now. We need to…” Suddenly there’s a fluttering of wings and Castiel is stood there, right in front of him. He looks a little, well, flustered.
“Did Dean get the present? Did he like it?”
“Oh yeah, he got the present. He loved it Cas.”
Castiel’s eyes lit up, and for a moment Sam felt sorry for him. He’d obviously thought that this would be it, that Dean would get the present and fall into his arms, or something equally sappy. “Uh, Cas, man. I gotta tell you something.”
“Yes?”
Sam looked down. He couldn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t want to see the face of an angel who’d been metaphorically punched in the gut. He was also slightly scared that Castiel would rain down some terrible punishment upon him for leading him on. “Um…about Dean.”
“Dean?”
Sam sighs. “Cas, he’s not into men. I’m sorry, I really am, but he’s just not. You’ve seen him, right? He loves women. Maybe a little too much, but he loves women and nothing else. He’s just…he’s just not made that way and I’m sorry if I made you think anything different. He wouldn’t be interested in you. Not in that way anyway.”
Castiel takes a step back, and Sam dares to look up at him. “But I am neither man nor woman.”
“You’re in a man’s vessel Cas, and that means a lot. A hell of a lot.”
Oh, I see.” His brow creases.
“I’m sorry, man. I mean, I didn’t even think you were…you know, you liked men.”
“It’s not a case of liking men, or women, or anything, Sam. I love all of God’s creations, but I am beginning to discover that this does not apply equally to everything. I know now that I love Dean more. More than the morning sun, more than the starlit sky. Whether he is a man or a woman is immaterial; I love him, and that is all there is to it. You at least taught me that.”
Sam sighs again, deeper this time. Castiel’s speech was beautiful, painfully so. It’s a pity that Dean, if he ever got to hear it, would not appreciate it. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say, Cas.” He shakes his head.
Castiel looks downcast for a moment, staring at the floor. Again, Sam thinks he can see the cogs whirring in his brain. After a few minutes of him staring at the floor and Sam standing there feeling like the world’s biggest idiot, Castiel looks up. He looks, kind of contented, in a resigned sort of way. “It’s no matter, Sam. Dean’s my friend and at least we will have that.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right. You’ll always be friends.”
“Then I’m happy. Thanks, Sam.” With a flutter of wings, Castiel disappears. Sam stands there for a while, thinking, before walking back to the front of the motel. He sees Dean, wiping his face on a cloth.
“All fixed?”
“Yeah, just gotta take her out on a test run but I think she’ll be fine…What’s that on your jacket?”
Sam looks down. Shit. Another feather. Damn, is Castiel moulting or something? “Dean, seriously don’t get mad.”
“Get mad? That he’s seen you again and he doesn’t bother to contact me? Doesn’t even drop by to say hello? What the fuck is going on, Sam? And you’d better tell me the truth this time because so help me…”
“Dean, come on!”
“I’m warning you.”
Sam sighs. It’s all so exasperating. “Look, come back to the room and I’ll tell you everything.”
He leads Dean back to their room, motioning for Dean to sit on the bed while he pours them both a shot of whiskey, figuring Dean will need it.
Dean takes the glass and looks him straight in the eye. “Spill,” he practically commands. Sam takes a deep breath.
Sam takes a gulp of whiskey. “Castiel gave you the air cleaner.”
“What?”
“He gave you a present.”
“Why?”
“Castiel…Castiel likes you.”
“Of course he likes me, Sammy, he pulled me out of Hell. He practically fell for me.”
“That’s just it. He’s started…he’s started to have feelings for you, you know, feelings that have been confusing him. That’s what he’s been talking to me about. I thought he was talking about a girl, so I gave him some crappy advice about giving a gift because honestly, Dean, I didn’t know he was talking about you otherwise I would have told him to forget it.”
If it were anyone else other than Dean, Sam would swear there was a gleeful smile on his face. “Really?”
“Yeah. He kind of…he loves you Dean. He told me he loves you.”
“He what?” The grin got broader. It confused Sam slightly, but he carried on.
“Loves you. But don’t worry, I put him straight.” Yeah, great terminology there, Sam, he thinks to himself. “I told him you weren’t into guys, that you like women, a lot, and that he probably should just forget all of this and just go back to the way things were before.”
“You told him…you told him to forget it?”
“Yeah and it’s cool, Cas is ok with staying friends.”
Dean stands up, his face is red, and he’s staring at him with anger in his eyes. “You fucking idiot Sam. You fucking…what the hell? What did you do that for? Scared you’d be left out again, huh?”
“What?”
“That’s it, isn’t it? Your ‘relationship’ with that, that...” he didn’t even want to say the name, “…went to shit, so now any chance I have of being happy, you walk all over it.”
“I don’t…” Sam really doesn’t understand. And then he looks at Dean, truly looks at him, sees the hurt in his eyes, and it hits him like a cannon ball to the chest. “You want to be happy…with Castiel?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“You…? But…” It suddenly all makes sense now. The times when Dean and Castiel were together flash through his mind. All of the things he’s missed before, all the longing glances, the touches that lingered just a little too long, the way Dean was pissed when he learned Castiel had been seeing Sam on his own. They are all becoming clear to him now. Before, Dean wasn’t jealous of him and Castiel in his normal controlling way; he was jealous because he thought he and Cas were getting it on.
Which is probably the most ridiculous thing he’d ever thought of.
“Dean, I’m sorry. I’m really…Man I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Dean sits back down, dejected. “I know. I know you didn’t, Sammy. Why would you? It’s not like I’ve done anything like this before. You didn’t know that you’ve maybe ruined the single most important thing in my life, besides you.”
Sam walks over to him. His hand hovers just above his shoulder, before he puts in down by his side. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“When’s the right time? When do you say to an angel of the Lord ‘Oh hey, you know what would be cool? If we did the horizontal mambo from time to time.’ When do you say that?”
He has a point, Sam thinks. “So how long? How long have you felt this way?”
“For a while now. Probably after the whorehouse thing. I kinda thought about Cas having sex, then having sex while I was there, then that kinda evolved into me having sex with him and I thought ‘you know, it wouldn’t be so bad? I’d probably enjoy it’ and it sort of went from there. And before you say anything, I don’t go around looking at guys or anything. It’s just him. Just Cas. It’s always been just Cas.” He looks to the floor, shuffling his feet and making a point of avoiding Sam’s gaze.
For the second time that day, Sam feels like a complete and utter tool. “Dean I…man I’m sorry.” Man, is he fed up of saying that word today.
“S’ok. Doesn’t matter now.”
Of course it matters. Of course it does, and Sam’s not about to give up. This whole thing is a mess purely because he’d been turned into a go-between. Yeah, he’d messed up, but who could blame him? If no-one tells him what they really want then what is he supposed to do. Which is why lesson number one states that if you want something doing, you don’t talk to Sam about it. He thought he’d made that clear before.
He resolves to put things right, but he needs to call Castiel again. “I’m just going for a soda. You want something?” Dean shakes his head and shifts back on the bed. As Sam leaves, he can hear the sound of a pillow being repeatedly punched. Wow, he must have it bad.
When he gets to the vending machine he pulls out his cell. He scrolls to Castiel’s number and calls. Each time it rings, his nerves wrack up a notch. “Please answer,” he whispers. “Please answer.”
The phone keeps ringing, and Sam’s just about to hang up when there’s a scrabbling sound followed by Castiel’s heavy breathing. “Sam,” he breathes into the phone, panting. “Sam what do you want?”
“Cas are you ok?”
“Fine Sam. Fine. I was…just…battling with a hell hound.”
He says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and Sam can’t help but smile at how fucking weird their lives had become. “Did you take care of it?”
“No Sam, I killed it.”
“That’s what I meant.”
“Ok. Sorry.”
Sam’s grin gets wider. “Look Cas, I need you to come here. Dean’s…Dean’s in trouble.” It’s not totally a lie. It’s not the truth either, but it’s not totally a lie.
With a flutter Cas is standing in front of him. “Where is he?” he looks worried, and it’s kind of cute Sam thinks to himself.
“He’s in room 107. He needs you Cas, desperately.”
Straight away, Cas zaps himself to the room while Sam lingers by the vending machine. He contemplates taking a walk, but then figures that he just needs to check that everything’s ok with both of them. As he walks round he wonders when the hell he became the matchmaker between his brother and an angel, and says aloud, “Gabriel, if this is you, you are so dead when I see you again. So dead.”
He walks to the door of his room and listens, but he can’t hear anything. He peers through the window and there is his brother, sitting on the bed, eyes wide as Castiel talks to him. He can’t quite make out what they’re saying to each other, but the looks say everything. Dean scoots forward until his legs are dangling over the end of the bed, and Castiel moves closer to him. Dean looks up to him, his eyes earnest and yes, full of hope, and he’s mouthing something and waving his arms around. Castiel seems to reply to him, and says something that makes Dean laugh.
Then, the laughter dies down and Dean looks deadly serious. He looks to the floor as he says something, before looking up again. He chews his bottom lip, and Sam knows from experience it’s something he does when he’s a little nervous. Then he shakes himself, and his eyes are more determined. Suddenly Castiel leans down, Dean surges up to meet him and they’re kissing, slow and tentative at first, before becoming more sure of themselves. Sam watches, a surge of pride in his stomach, when Dean wraps his arms around Castiel and pulls him on to him. They’re on the bed now, still kissing, moving against one another, and Sam has to look away because as happy as he is that they’ve sorted it out, and as much as he wants to wallow in his pride for a while, he doesn’t want to see his brother doing that, not with anyone, let alone an angel of the Lord.
He walks away, wondering how long he should leave them and where the hell he can go. He goes to the diner, orders a milkshake and sits there reading the paper for a good while, chatting to the waitress and getting an eyeful of her chest as she bends down to clear the table. He then phones Bobby, and talks to him for a while before Bobby gets annoyed at being disturbed and hangs up, calling him an idjit and telling him to get his ass to his place soon otherwise he may not be there.
He exits the diner and walks to the Impala, looking at her up and down. She really looks pristine despite all the scrapes she’s been through, and he wonders if Castiel’s air cleaner will work fine, and whether there’ll still be that banging sound as soon as they start the engine.
He looks at his watch. It’s been almost an hour and a half, which surely must be long enough, so he goes back to the motel, knocks loudly on the door, shouts, “Dean!” as he enters, and shields his eyes with his hand.
“Hey Sammy.”
“Hello Sam.”
Sam takes his hand away and stares at the two of them. They’re sat, fully clothed, well almost fully clothed, on Dean’s bed. Dean’s trousers are still undone. Castiel’s mouth looks red and a bit swollen, while Dean seems to have what looks like a hickey on his neck. Castiel’s tie is far across the other end of the room, and when he looks back at the two of them, he finds they both have that blissed-out look of two people who had just indulged in some very active, very desperate, very much needed sex. As he looks down, he sees that their hands are intertwined, and he can’t help but smile.
“Long time getting the soda?”
“Yeah well, I needed some fresh air, and kinda thought you needed to be alone for a while.” He smiles again, and Dean grins back triumphantly. He taps Castiel on the leg and says, “Cas here says he’s got some time on his hands, so he’s gonna stay with us for a while. That cool with you?”
Seeing the look in Dean’s eyes made him want to say ‘No’ on purpose, just to wipe the self-satisfied grin off his face. But then Dean turned towards Castiel and he sees the way he looks at him, like he’s the only person in the world. He really has no choice. “Sure.”
“Great. Then how ‘bout we get some food and get ourselves back on the road, huh?”
“Sure.” He can’t help but smile again at Dean’s manic grin.
Dean and Castiel get up off the bed. Castiel searches for his tie, while Dean comes closer to Sam. He smells of sex. “Thanks man,” is all he says.
“You’re welcome.”
Castiel has found his tie, so Dean runs over and helps him put it on. Sam watches as Dean just can’t resist placing a kiss on the angel’s lips as he ties the material. Yup, this is going to take some getting used to, but seeing how completely happy Dean is, and how apparently happy Castiel is, he’ll just have to suck it up and deal.
They walk out of the motel room, with Dean shutting the door behind him.
Sam hears him say, “Man, I do not want to be the one cleaning those sheets,” as he walks away. It was totally for Sam’s benefit.
Sam catches Dean’s shoulder with his hand. “Same rules apply. I do not want to know any details Dean. Not now, not ever.”
“Fine. Just…I think we should get separate rooms from now on. Just while Cas is with us.”
“Agreed.”
“Oh and Sammy?”
“Yeah?”
“It was totally awesome.” He smiles triumphantly.
That’s it. That is the last time he agrees to give advice to anyone. Period.
“Shut up, Dean.”
Title: Conversations with Sam Winchester
Author: carmexgirl
Rating: PG-13 for language and stuff
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Warnings: Exasperated!Sam, general daftness
Spoilers: Up to and including 5.13
Word Count: 5,555 (yes, really!)
Summary: Sam doesn't really know how he gets himself into these situations
Author’s Notes: I promised onetouchspark I'd write something fluffy, so here it is :D This is written from Sam's POV. I had an idea to do a companion piece from Dean's POV, if anyone's interested?
It’s a surprise when Castiel corners him on his own one day, seemingly desperate to talk. Sam’s never been particularly close to Castiel before, so it’s slightly confusing that Castiel wants to talk to him instead of Dean. Their relationship had changed for the better in recent times, ever since Castiel admitted to him that he was his friend, and he would not let anyone, angel, demon or anything else kill him. He now feels more relaxed around Castiel, and Cas seemingly feels easier around him, though all this does not explain why he’s now standing in front of him, eyes down, shifting from foot to foot.
“Everything ok, Cas?” He asks, still a little wary.
“Everything is fine, Sam.” It doesn’t look it. He still won’t look him in the eye, and he’s still shuffling. If he were human, Sam would say he’s nervous. He’s an angel though, and as far as Sam knows, they don’t really feel anything let alone get apprehensive.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Uh, Dean’s not here. He’s gone to get supplies and he won’t be back for a while.”
“I know. I have already spoken to him and he told me your latest location. I came here specifically to speak to you.”
“Oh, right.” Sam furrows his brow in confusion. He can count on one hand the amount of conversations he’s had alone with Castiel. It’s not something he does-his brother has the monopoly on the angel’s time; he just stands in the background watching them talk.
“I need to ask your advice.”
Right, advice. He can do advice. He’s read tons of books, though he can’t really imagine knowing anything Castiel doesn’t. “Ok, Cas. What can I do for you?”
Castiel looks up, catching his eye before looking down again. “It’s a personal matter. Something I’ve not really had to deal with before.”
“Go on.” Sam starts to sweat a little. He’s not really in the mood for a man-to-man or man-to-angel talk, and he starts to fidget. He really should call Dean. Dean should be the one handling this.
Castiel is playing with the hem of his trench coat as he talks, still not looking at Sam. “As you know, I have cut myself off from heaven. In doing so, I have started to have…feelings.”
“Feelings? What kind of feelings?”
Again Castiel runs the hem of his trench coat between his thumb and forefinger. “Different ones. The other day I felt rather lonely, then I think I felt anger at Anna when she came for you; hope was another one when I found a lead on my Father and now…now I feel something that perplexes me.”
Oh god. He’s going to have to have ‘that’ conversation with an angel. Why him? Why not Dean? Sam huffs. “What is it?” He knows the answer, but he wants Castiel to tell him all the same.
“When I was in Heaven, my heart used to leap at the name of my Father. The mention of His name would cause me great joy, and a warmth gathered inside me just to know that He was near, that He was watching over me, thinking about me. Now, I think I feel that way for a mortal, a human and I can’t understand it. I don’t think I’m supposed to, but I do all the same. Explain this to me Sam, because I’ve tried to understand it but I can’t.”
Sam smiles at the earnest tone of Castiel’s voice. He truly is confused, truly is bewildered at all of these new feelings. “Dude,” he says, “You like someone. There’s nothing wrong in that. You’re cut off from Heaven and now you’re looking for the companionship you got from your brothers and God. That’s what this is, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
Castiel finally looks him in the eye, holds his gaze for more than a second. “This is troubling, Sam. Our feelings are normally reserved for the Lord.”
“No offence Cas but there’s precious little of him around at the moment. You’re stuck here, you’ve made friends here…it’s only natural you go that one step further and actually start to like someone. Heaven’s kinda closed for you now, so I guess that means you’re entitled to do what you want for a change.”
Castiel looks at him, thinks deeply for a few minutes while Sam stands there, hands patting his thighs lightly while he waits. Castiel’s face softens all of a sudden, as if the conflict in his mind has resolved itself. “You are very wise, Sam Winchester. Thank you.” There’s a flutter of wings, and Castiel is gone.
Sam walks over the almost threadbare carpet to the lumpy motel bed and sits there for a while, thinking. He doesn’t really know exactly what he did, but it seems to have eased Castiel’s conflict so he’s happy, he guesses. He wipes a small bead of sweat from his brow. Next time Cas wants to have a manly talk, Dean can definitely handle it.
The door swings open, and Dean walks in, heavily laden with bags. “Little help here,” he says, struggling with them before setting them down on the floor. He notices a small black feather near the bed. “Someone been here?” He asks suspiciously.
“Yeah. Cas.”
“Cas? Not Gabriel?” Dean’s eyes scan the room.
“Yeah just Cas.” Sam gets all defensive all of a sudden and he doesn’t know why. “He just came to have a talk.”
“What about?”
“I dunno, just a talk. You weren’t here so I helped him, and he left.”
“Wait a minute. You helped him, and he left?”
“Yeah, just left. He seemed happy enough”
“You helped him?” Dean furrows his brow and thinks for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Did he say he wanted to see me?”
“No. He wanted to see me.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.” Sam sighs. “Is there something wrong with that, Dean?”
“Nope. Nothin’ wrong.”
Dean flops down onto his bed. If Sam didn’t know any better, he would say Dean looks somewhat disappointed.
***
The second time Castiel appears to him is just as unexpected. Again Dean is otherwise occupied-the Impala was making a strange clunking sound as they drove to the motel, a sound which got louder and louder as they continued their journey, and which made Dean’s face paler and paler. As soon as they got to the motel, Dean was under the car trying to see what the hell was wrong. Sam knew they wouldn’t be on the move again until his baby was in perfect working order.
Sam’s just finished cleaning his teeth, being slightly obsessive about his breath and how his teeth always feel strangely furry after a long day on the road. He washes the water around his mouth, gargles and spits it out into the bowl. He looks up and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Castiel staring back at him through the mirror.
“Cas! What the hell? Don’t sneak up on people, especially not when there’s an apocalypse! Jeez.” Sam gets the distinct impression that the angel is actually following him.
Castiel grunts. “I’m sorry Sam. I just thought…that perhaps we could continue our discussion from the other day.”
Discussion? Oh yeah, that discussion. Sam grabs a towel and wipes his mouth. “Sure, Cas, sure.” He inwardly kicks himself, because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting himself into. “Err…Dean’s outside you know. Wouldn’t you rather have this conversation with him?”
“No, Sam, I wouldn’t.” Figures, Sam thinks bitterly, because Dean’s reputation with the ladies is famous for all the wrong reasons, and he remembers the last time Dean tried to give the angel advice. More accurately, he remembers Dean telling him through tears of laughter the last time he gave Castiel advice. He sighs.
“Fine, Cas. What’s the problem?”
Castiel isn’t as nervous this time. In fact, he’s more curious than apprehensive, which puts Sam at ease. “I was thinking about what you told me, about it being ok to like someone in the more romantic sense of the word. I was wondering…how would you go about telling that person that you liked them?”
Sam smiles to himself, and he can’t help but speculate on the type of girl Castiel would like. He decides that he must have met her on his travels, formed a rapport with her like he had with Dean, and wanted to take it further but really didn’t have a clue how. “Well…it kind of depends on the person, Cas. I mean, some people want little presents, like chocolates and flowers or something else they like…some will just want you to be honest with them and just tell them how you feel. Depends on the type of person they are.”
He thinks he can almost see Castiel’s mind whirring at this, thinking about all the possibilities. Sam suddenly feels a pang of guilt, because while, yeah, Castiel is a handsome man, he’s so awkward and aloof he’s not sure anyone would actually know he likes them. “I always find presents to be the best,” he adds. At least that takes away some of the sting if they reject him. Better to reject a present than a person.
“Presents?”
“Yeah. Something they’d really like. But don’t go overboard because you could scare them off.” Listen to yourself, he thinks. Like you’re the expert. He shudders when he realises that since Ruby, he hadn’t really had anyone notable. Still, at least his track record was better than Dean’s.
“Right,” Castiel nods enthusiastically. “So what I need to do is buy a present, something I know they would like. Then what?”
“Leave it somewhere they can find it easily, then wait to see if they like it. If they do, tell them you bought it and things should go from there.” It’s such a crock of shit and he knows it, but what is he supposed to tell him? You meet a girl in a bar, see if she seems into you then take her back to your motel? He remembers Dean telling him about the whorehouse, and Sam isn’t about to align himself with Dean. No, this should be handled completely differently.
“Ok. That should be easy, I think. I just need to think of something they’d like.”
“Flowers and chocolates. That’s always a winner.”
Castiel looks stern, lost in his own thoughts. “I don’t think that would go down too well. But there is definitely something I can get.” Sam swears he can see the cogs of that ancient brain moving, working overtime to find a solution to this particular problem. Before he can say anything else, there is a flutter and Castiel is gone once more. Sam turns back to the sink and sips more water, rolling it around his mouth as he thinks. He bets she looks like Anna. Although Anna went psycho on them, he got the sense that Castiel and her shared a past, so he surmises that anyone who would catch Castiel’s eye would probably look like Anna-long hair, pale, enticing eyes, radiating calmness but possessing strength. Yeah, that’s Castiel’s type.
He jumps when there’s a load bang on the door. “You decent in there? I need to piss, Sam.”
Sam opens the door and comes face to face with Dean, covered in oil. “There, finished,” he says, watching as Dean goes in. He walks out of the door and sits down on the edge of his bed.
“So what took so long in here? What…is this another black feather?”
“Yeah. Cas was here again.”
“He’s here?”
“No he’s not here now. He had to go.”
Suddenly the door bangs open and there’s Dean, staring at him like he’s angry or something. His jeans are barley on his hips and they’re open at the fly.
“Dude, tidy yourself up! I don’t want to see your junk!” Sam shields his eyes. Dean does nothing, just walks forward, small black feather in his hand.
“What the hell does he want with you, Sam? What are you two planning?”
“Dean nothing, I swear.” Sam can’t help thinking how ridiculous Dean looks, pants undone, waving a small feather at him.
“Then why does he keep coming to you, huh? Why is it that you and him seem to have your little ‘talks’ while I’m not here. Why hasn’t he called me in a week Sam, but he finds the time to see you?”
“I don’t know. I really…”
“And what’s with these talks anyhow? Why does he talk to you and not me?”
Sam stands up. “Dean,” he says loudly. “Calm down, ok? Look, I don’t know why he wants to talk to me, and I don’t know why he hasn’t called you but I guess he’s been occupied.”
“Occupied…with you?” Dean’s face is red. He looks really angry. Sam can feel the anger rising in him too. It’s typical of Dean to get jealous. He was ok when he and Cas went off and did their thing without him, but now he and Cas are friends, and Cas feels he can confide in him, Dean’s getting jealous because he can’t control them like he did before.
“We’re both not exclusively yours, Dean. We can talk to each other without you.”
“Not the point. A week, Sam. He could’ve been dead. Those angel bastards coulda caught up with him and fried him for all I know. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“We ARE a team Dean! It’s just you need to get with the program!” Sam throws his hands up in the air and walks out. There’s nothing else he can do when Dean’s like this, won’t listen to reason. Better to let him cool off, sort out his damn pants and regret what he’s said.
When he gets back to the motel an hour later, Dean’s still sulking on the bed. He throws him a beer, which Dean accepts, and they drink together, not talking about their earlier discussion.
A day later, and Dean’s still fixing the Impala. It’s the air cleaner, apparently. It’s rusted to hell but he can’t get another one that fits so he’s trying to improvise enough before they can get to Bobby’s. Sam decides he needs a break so takes him out for a burger and a beer, laughing as he turns on the charm to the waitress serving them, staring at her ass as she walks away. When they get back to the motel, Sam has a strange sense that something is wrong. They open the door, and there, sitting on Dean’s bed, is a large piece of metal, glinting in the evening sun streaming through the door.
“What the hell?” Sam says, pulling out his gun. Dean walks over to the bed, and inspects the object. Around it is a red bow. He lifts it up, and gasps slightly. “It’s a chrome air cleaner. 14 inch one, just like I need for the Impala. It’s…it’s in mint condition Sammy. There’s not a speck of rust or a dent on it.”
Sam can’t speak. He’s stunned.
“And there’s a note around the bow. It just has a kiss on it. Sammy? Who the hell did this?”
Oh shit. Oh shit. Sam knew exactly who did it, and wasn’t everything just a complete mess now?
His mind is whirring. It’s Dean. Castiel likes Dean. Oh god, and he’s the one who told him to go for it. Oh shit. But he didn’t…he didn’t know Castiel was talking about a guy, much less Dean. Dean! Dean who’s about as rampantly heterosexual as they come. Dean! Surely Cas should have realised. Surely…
“Sam? Sammy? Are you ok?” Dean had walked over to him and is now shaking him by the shoulder.
“Fine Dean. Fine.”
“What the hell is this? Who do you think did it? Gabriel?”
“No, no it’s not Gabriel. I mean, how would he know you needed an air cleaner?”
“Dunno. He’s the archangel, he probably knows everything.” Dean looks around suspiciously. “He could be watching us right now.”
“Dean, it’s definitely not him. I think…it’s just a present from an admirer, that’s all.”
Dean’s face lights up. “An ‘admirer’? Who’d do something like that?”
“Someone who’s stupid enough to take advice from Sam Winchester,” Sam mutters under his breath. He digs his nails into his palms, and hits the back of his head against the now closed door. How could he have missed it? Of course Castiel wouldn’t have met anyone substantial on his travels. Of course he and Dean were the only people he was close do. And, he couldn’t talk to Dean because he likes him, so it stands to reason he’d talk to Sam. Stupid, stupid idiot.
He has to put this right. He has to tell Castiel before he makes a complete ass of himself. “Maybe you should fix it to the car?” He offers, and can’t help but smile when Dean’s face lights up. “I gotta…um…go out for half an hour, so I’ll see you when I get back. You think you’ll have it fixed?”
“Yeah, probably. Back on the road in no time, right?”
“Right.” Sam nods, before walking off. He goes to the back of the motel, and pulls out his cell. “Cas,” he says, relief washing over him when the angel answers, “Cas you gotta get here now. We need to…” Suddenly there’s a fluttering of wings and Castiel is stood there, right in front of him. He looks a little, well, flustered.
“Did Dean get the present? Did he like it?”
“Oh yeah, he got the present. He loved it Cas.”
Castiel’s eyes lit up, and for a moment Sam felt sorry for him. He’d obviously thought that this would be it, that Dean would get the present and fall into his arms, or something equally sappy. “Uh, Cas, man. I gotta tell you something.”
“Yes?”
Sam looked down. He couldn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t want to see the face of an angel who’d been metaphorically punched in the gut. He was also slightly scared that Castiel would rain down some terrible punishment upon him for leading him on. “Um…about Dean.”
“Dean?”
Sam sighs. “Cas, he’s not into men. I’m sorry, I really am, but he’s just not. You’ve seen him, right? He loves women. Maybe a little too much, but he loves women and nothing else. He’s just…he’s just not made that way and I’m sorry if I made you think anything different. He wouldn’t be interested in you. Not in that way anyway.”
Castiel takes a step back, and Sam dares to look up at him. “But I am neither man nor woman.”
“You’re in a man’s vessel Cas, and that means a lot. A hell of a lot.”
Oh, I see.” His brow creases.
“I’m sorry, man. I mean, I didn’t even think you were…you know, you liked men.”
“It’s not a case of liking men, or women, or anything, Sam. I love all of God’s creations, but I am beginning to discover that this does not apply equally to everything. I know now that I love Dean more. More than the morning sun, more than the starlit sky. Whether he is a man or a woman is immaterial; I love him, and that is all there is to it. You at least taught me that.”
Sam sighs again, deeper this time. Castiel’s speech was beautiful, painfully so. It’s a pity that Dean, if he ever got to hear it, would not appreciate it. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say, Cas.” He shakes his head.
Castiel looks downcast for a moment, staring at the floor. Again, Sam thinks he can see the cogs whirring in his brain. After a few minutes of him staring at the floor and Sam standing there feeling like the world’s biggest idiot, Castiel looks up. He looks, kind of contented, in a resigned sort of way. “It’s no matter, Sam. Dean’s my friend and at least we will have that.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right. You’ll always be friends.”
“Then I’m happy. Thanks, Sam.” With a flutter of wings, Castiel disappears. Sam stands there for a while, thinking, before walking back to the front of the motel. He sees Dean, wiping his face on a cloth.
“All fixed?”
“Yeah, just gotta take her out on a test run but I think she’ll be fine…What’s that on your jacket?”
Sam looks down. Shit. Another feather. Damn, is Castiel moulting or something? “Dean, seriously don’t get mad.”
“Get mad? That he’s seen you again and he doesn’t bother to contact me? Doesn’t even drop by to say hello? What the fuck is going on, Sam? And you’d better tell me the truth this time because so help me…”
“Dean, come on!”
“I’m warning you.”
Sam sighs. It’s all so exasperating. “Look, come back to the room and I’ll tell you everything.”
He leads Dean back to their room, motioning for Dean to sit on the bed while he pours them both a shot of whiskey, figuring Dean will need it.
Dean takes the glass and looks him straight in the eye. “Spill,” he practically commands. Sam takes a deep breath.
Sam takes a gulp of whiskey. “Castiel gave you the air cleaner.”
“What?”
“He gave you a present.”
“Why?”
“Castiel…Castiel likes you.”
“Of course he likes me, Sammy, he pulled me out of Hell. He practically fell for me.”
“That’s just it. He’s started…he’s started to have feelings for you, you know, feelings that have been confusing him. That’s what he’s been talking to me about. I thought he was talking about a girl, so I gave him some crappy advice about giving a gift because honestly, Dean, I didn’t know he was talking about you otherwise I would have told him to forget it.”
If it were anyone else other than Dean, Sam would swear there was a gleeful smile on his face. “Really?”
“Yeah. He kind of…he loves you Dean. He told me he loves you.”
“He what?” The grin got broader. It confused Sam slightly, but he carried on.
“Loves you. But don’t worry, I put him straight.” Yeah, great terminology there, Sam, he thinks to himself. “I told him you weren’t into guys, that you like women, a lot, and that he probably should just forget all of this and just go back to the way things were before.”
“You told him…you told him to forget it?”
“Yeah and it’s cool, Cas is ok with staying friends.”
Dean stands up, his face is red, and he’s staring at him with anger in his eyes. “You fucking idiot Sam. You fucking…what the hell? What did you do that for? Scared you’d be left out again, huh?”
“What?”
“That’s it, isn’t it? Your ‘relationship’ with that, that...” he didn’t even want to say the name, “…went to shit, so now any chance I have of being happy, you walk all over it.”
“I don’t…” Sam really doesn’t understand. And then he looks at Dean, truly looks at him, sees the hurt in his eyes, and it hits him like a cannon ball to the chest. “You want to be happy…with Castiel?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“You…? But…” It suddenly all makes sense now. The times when Dean and Castiel were together flash through his mind. All of the things he’s missed before, all the longing glances, the touches that lingered just a little too long, the way Dean was pissed when he learned Castiel had been seeing Sam on his own. They are all becoming clear to him now. Before, Dean wasn’t jealous of him and Castiel in his normal controlling way; he was jealous because he thought he and Cas were getting it on.
Which is probably the most ridiculous thing he’d ever thought of.
“Dean, I’m sorry. I’m really…Man I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Dean sits back down, dejected. “I know. I know you didn’t, Sammy. Why would you? It’s not like I’ve done anything like this before. You didn’t know that you’ve maybe ruined the single most important thing in my life, besides you.”
Sam walks over to him. His hand hovers just above his shoulder, before he puts in down by his side. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“When’s the right time? When do you say to an angel of the Lord ‘Oh hey, you know what would be cool? If we did the horizontal mambo from time to time.’ When do you say that?”
He has a point, Sam thinks. “So how long? How long have you felt this way?”
“For a while now. Probably after the whorehouse thing. I kinda thought about Cas having sex, then having sex while I was there, then that kinda evolved into me having sex with him and I thought ‘you know, it wouldn’t be so bad? I’d probably enjoy it’ and it sort of went from there. And before you say anything, I don’t go around looking at guys or anything. It’s just him. Just Cas. It’s always been just Cas.” He looks to the floor, shuffling his feet and making a point of avoiding Sam’s gaze.
For the second time that day, Sam feels like a complete and utter tool. “Dean I…man I’m sorry.” Man, is he fed up of saying that word today.
“S’ok. Doesn’t matter now.”
Of course it matters. Of course it does, and Sam’s not about to give up. This whole thing is a mess purely because he’d been turned into a go-between. Yeah, he’d messed up, but who could blame him? If no-one tells him what they really want then what is he supposed to do. Which is why lesson number one states that if you want something doing, you don’t talk to Sam about it. He thought he’d made that clear before.
He resolves to put things right, but he needs to call Castiel again. “I’m just going for a soda. You want something?” Dean shakes his head and shifts back on the bed. As Sam leaves, he can hear the sound of a pillow being repeatedly punched. Wow, he must have it bad.
When he gets to the vending machine he pulls out his cell. He scrolls to Castiel’s number and calls. Each time it rings, his nerves wrack up a notch. “Please answer,” he whispers. “Please answer.”
The phone keeps ringing, and Sam’s just about to hang up when there’s a scrabbling sound followed by Castiel’s heavy breathing. “Sam,” he breathes into the phone, panting. “Sam what do you want?”
“Cas are you ok?”
“Fine Sam. Fine. I was…just…battling with a hell hound.”
He says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and Sam can’t help but smile at how fucking weird their lives had become. “Did you take care of it?”
“No Sam, I killed it.”
“That’s what I meant.”
“Ok. Sorry.”
Sam’s grin gets wider. “Look Cas, I need you to come here. Dean’s…Dean’s in trouble.” It’s not totally a lie. It’s not the truth either, but it’s not totally a lie.
With a flutter Cas is standing in front of him. “Where is he?” he looks worried, and it’s kind of cute Sam thinks to himself.
“He’s in room 107. He needs you Cas, desperately.”
Straight away, Cas zaps himself to the room while Sam lingers by the vending machine. He contemplates taking a walk, but then figures that he just needs to check that everything’s ok with both of them. As he walks round he wonders when the hell he became the matchmaker between his brother and an angel, and says aloud, “Gabriel, if this is you, you are so dead when I see you again. So dead.”
He walks to the door of his room and listens, but he can’t hear anything. He peers through the window and there is his brother, sitting on the bed, eyes wide as Castiel talks to him. He can’t quite make out what they’re saying to each other, but the looks say everything. Dean scoots forward until his legs are dangling over the end of the bed, and Castiel moves closer to him. Dean looks up to him, his eyes earnest and yes, full of hope, and he’s mouthing something and waving his arms around. Castiel seems to reply to him, and says something that makes Dean laugh.
Then, the laughter dies down and Dean looks deadly serious. He looks to the floor as he says something, before looking up again. He chews his bottom lip, and Sam knows from experience it’s something he does when he’s a little nervous. Then he shakes himself, and his eyes are more determined. Suddenly Castiel leans down, Dean surges up to meet him and they’re kissing, slow and tentative at first, before becoming more sure of themselves. Sam watches, a surge of pride in his stomach, when Dean wraps his arms around Castiel and pulls him on to him. They’re on the bed now, still kissing, moving against one another, and Sam has to look away because as happy as he is that they’ve sorted it out, and as much as he wants to wallow in his pride for a while, he doesn’t want to see his brother doing that, not with anyone, let alone an angel of the Lord.
He walks away, wondering how long he should leave them and where the hell he can go. He goes to the diner, orders a milkshake and sits there reading the paper for a good while, chatting to the waitress and getting an eyeful of her chest as she bends down to clear the table. He then phones Bobby, and talks to him for a while before Bobby gets annoyed at being disturbed and hangs up, calling him an idjit and telling him to get his ass to his place soon otherwise he may not be there.
He exits the diner and walks to the Impala, looking at her up and down. She really looks pristine despite all the scrapes she’s been through, and he wonders if Castiel’s air cleaner will work fine, and whether there’ll still be that banging sound as soon as they start the engine.
He looks at his watch. It’s been almost an hour and a half, which surely must be long enough, so he goes back to the motel, knocks loudly on the door, shouts, “Dean!” as he enters, and shields his eyes with his hand.
“Hey Sammy.”
“Hello Sam.”
Sam takes his hand away and stares at the two of them. They’re sat, fully clothed, well almost fully clothed, on Dean’s bed. Dean’s trousers are still undone. Castiel’s mouth looks red and a bit swollen, while Dean seems to have what looks like a hickey on his neck. Castiel’s tie is far across the other end of the room, and when he looks back at the two of them, he finds they both have that blissed-out look of two people who had just indulged in some very active, very desperate, very much needed sex. As he looks down, he sees that their hands are intertwined, and he can’t help but smile.
“Long time getting the soda?”
“Yeah well, I needed some fresh air, and kinda thought you needed to be alone for a while.” He smiles again, and Dean grins back triumphantly. He taps Castiel on the leg and says, “Cas here says he’s got some time on his hands, so he’s gonna stay with us for a while. That cool with you?”
Seeing the look in Dean’s eyes made him want to say ‘No’ on purpose, just to wipe the self-satisfied grin off his face. But then Dean turned towards Castiel and he sees the way he looks at him, like he’s the only person in the world. He really has no choice. “Sure.”
“Great. Then how ‘bout we get some food and get ourselves back on the road, huh?”
“Sure.” He can’t help but smile again at Dean’s manic grin.
Dean and Castiel get up off the bed. Castiel searches for his tie, while Dean comes closer to Sam. He smells of sex. “Thanks man,” is all he says.
“You’re welcome.”
Castiel has found his tie, so Dean runs over and helps him put it on. Sam watches as Dean just can’t resist placing a kiss on the angel’s lips as he ties the material. Yup, this is going to take some getting used to, but seeing how completely happy Dean is, and how apparently happy Castiel is, he’ll just have to suck it up and deal.
They walk out of the motel room, with Dean shutting the door behind him.
Sam hears him say, “Man, I do not want to be the one cleaning those sheets,” as he walks away. It was totally for Sam’s benefit.
Sam catches Dean’s shoulder with his hand. “Same rules apply. I do not want to know any details Dean. Not now, not ever.”
“Fine. Just…I think we should get separate rooms from now on. Just while Cas is with us.”
“Agreed.”
“Oh and Sammy?”
“Yeah?”
“It was totally awesome.” He smiles triumphantly.
That’s it. That is the last time he agrees to give advice to anyone. Period.
“Shut up, Dean.”