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Dean once told Castiel that being a third wheel was not a good thing, and Cas had disagreed with him whole-heartedly. He still agrees with that sentiment, despite the fact that he now feels even less a part of things than he had previously. Being the third wheel means that he gets to spend time with his two favourite people in the world, without being the centre of attention. Sort of like watching a movie with your favourite characters, except that occasionally he gets to interact with them. Castiel doesn’t at all mind not being included. He usually ends up saying something wrong and changing the jovial atmosphere into an awkward one, so he’s quite content to just sit back and listen.
Right now, though, he’s alone with Dean. This is because they’ve just finished hunting another fallen angel, and Dean and Cas are burning the angel’s vessel. Meanwhile, Sam stays back at the house where they found the angel, cleaning up blood, knife marks in the floor and walls, and the ashes of burnt wings. The flames are harsh against the dark of the night sky, from this distance looking as if this corpse burns brighter than the stars.
He feels Dean's eyes on the side of his face, and turns his head to look back at him.
"I've missed this, man," Dean says, smiling softly.
"Burning corpses? You do that on a weekly basis."
Dean laughs at that, and Cas feels his heart stutter. "No, you hangin' around." If his heart was stuttering before, now it's purring like the engine of Dean's beloved car. Dean likes having him around.
During the rest of the time Castiel spends with the Winchesters, he can't stop thinking about Dean. Dean is almost always on his mind, but currently he consumes all his thoughts. He tries not to get hopeful. He knows, logically, that Dean is not interested in men, especially not himself, after the things he's done– but it doesn't stop him from imagining.
“Hey, you okay, man?” Sam asks the next day, concerned, before they follow Dean out of the motel.
“Yes, of course! Why do you ask?” Cas didn’t receive any particularly worrying injuries.
“I dunno, you’ve just been really quiet. I- I mean, you’re always pretty quiet, but you almost seemed put off by something.” Oh. Perhaps his musings had made him seem upset. Sam’s forehead creases. “Hey, I know Dean can be a dick, but he never really means anything by it. He’s usually more angry with himself than anyone else. Uh, actually… he probably doesn’ even realise he’s done somethin’ wrong.” He smiles kindly and drops a heavy hand onto Cas’ shoulder, before going out to put his duffle in the car. Cas is left standing there, wondering.
It seems that even when he keeps his mouth shut, he manages to do something socially inept. Sam was right about one thing, though. He was thinking about Dean.
__________
They're sitting in the library, doing some research to help out some other poor sucker on their hunt, and therefore, Dean is bored.
Dean glances over at where Sam and Cas are sitting at the other table. Their heads are together and they're muttering over some dusty old tome. They're talking about the contents, using big words Dean doesn't recognize. Some ugly emotion darkens Dean's brow. He has to turn his head from their cozying-up.
"Okay, if I look at another word, then somebody's dyin'," he says, pushing his chair out from the table.
Sam looks up at him with his brow creased and lips pursed. "Dean, this research is important! People are dying."
"Yeah," he says, rolling his eyes. "Me."
Sam opens his mouth to say something undoubtedly petulant, but before he can, Cas steps in. "Dean, why don't you go and get us all a beer?"
Dean's being treated like a grumpy toddler. 'Why don't you go have naptime, Dean?' He glares at Cas. He looks down and away, clearly uncomfortable. Sam turns away from him, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing as if pained. Dean feels like a dick. Not that that's new.
"Yeah, whatever," he says, swiping a hand over his forehead and stomping out the door. He's sick of this.
He doesn't see their resigned expressions.
__________
Sam’s not sure when he realised that they were in love. It seems like he's known for forever. He’s also not sure when they fell in love themselves, or if either of them are aware of their feelings. He would talk about it with Dean, but he doesn’t think Dean even knows that Sam is aware he’s into dudes, at all. The only thing more difficult than trying to get Dean to talk about his feelings, is trying to get Dean to talk about his feelings when he thinks he’s being made fun of. God knows Dean's defensive enough about his masculinity, without Sam suggesting that he's in love with a man.
In most situations, Sam thinks anybody would be happy to realise that their brother was in love. However, in this particular situation, involving two self-deprecating, stubborn mules with a staring problem and no sense of personal space, Sam feels highly uncomfortable.
They're watching another one of Dean's Clint Eastwood movies, and Dean is murmuring the lines along with the characters onscreen. Sam finds it even more immensely frustrating than the fact that they're watching this movie for the thousandth time. Cas is looking at Dean the way flowers do the sun. He's not paying much attention to the movie, even though this is his first time watching it.
"Oh, this is my favourite part," Dean says giddily, turning to Cas who's sitting closest to him (as per usual). He then notices Cas looking at him, and he smiles gently, looking back at him– and if Sam keeps watching this he's going to get the same health problems as Dean.
"Uh, you know what, guys? I'm, uh, I'm pretty tired, so I'm just gonna–" They're not listening. As Sam walks to get a beer, he thinks that, despite his despairing, he really is happy for them. They deserve it. Sam certainly doesn't, though, and if he has to put up with much more UST, he's going to be forced to take drastic measures. Even though it might make it worse — they might (probably) start partaking in PDA. Not that they don't already, but being able to touch each other would make Sam's life a living Hell — and he would know.