Chapter Text
When Sam knocked on the front door of what should have been his brother’s house, he hadn’t anticipated meeting the dark-haired, blue-eyed stranger currently peeking through the crack between door and jamb.
He’d expected to find Dean, or at least Cassie --- they must have gotten back together or something (even if Sam didn’t understand why his brother had started shortening her already-short nickname to Cas when he talked about her) --- because… well, because Dean did talk about her.
A lot.
Sam would almost say incessantly.
Honestly, Sam wasn’t sure Dean even knew he was doing it. It was never anything concentrated --- for one thing, he’d never said hey, I got back together with Cassie and she’s living with me --- or even very clarifying. Cas was just always there, lurking around the edges and in every single freaking thing Sam’s brother ever told him.
What are your plans for today, Dean? was answered with, Well, Cas has morning classes, so I’ll probably tidy the house until those are over.
How have things been? got, Not bad, but Cas and I’ve finals in a week and those’re going to suck out loud. Cas’ll do well, obviously, but Crowley’s class is hell.
A joke about Dean’s trademark diet --- something of a love child between road-trip and Fourth-of-July-with-alcohol --- resulted in, Yeah, I wish, Sammy, but Cas is insisting I eat frigging rabbit food. I swear, it’s like dealing with you again, bitch.
They didn’t talk much --- Sam was busy at Stanford, after all, and didn’t call very frequently --- but when they did, it was always Cas this and Cas that. (Which was how Sam knew that Dean made Cas coffee in the morning and that Cas liked cats and everything else about Cas, Cas, Cas.)
And which was why he was very, very surprised when not-Dean-or-Cassie opened the door and held a pleasant but confusing conversation that resulted in Sam introducing himself with a rather confused, “I’m Sam. Sam Winchester.”
And which also resulted in Sam re-evaluating everything because apparently Cas was not Cassie and Cas was just a room-mate and Dean had some explaining to do.
Eventually.
But first, Sam kinda had to deal with said room-mate, who was still blinking at him. “Sam? Dean didn’t say you were coming.”
Which… fair. “Yeah, he, uh… He didn’t really know?” Cas didn’t blink, and somehow the expression was enough to have Sam gulping and then hurrying to explain. “It’s my spring break, and, well… I thought I’d visit… but, I can g--”
Cas, who had maintained an oddly appraising head tilt throughout Sam’s entire speech, seemed to come to a decision, shaking his head as he interrupted. “No.” He opened the door, stepping back to let Sam in, eyes still squinting at him but a little more welcoming than they had been. “Come in.”
Sam took a step over the threshold, passing his eyes around the room’s circumference.
Then, he stopped.
He stared.
He blinked.
And Cas, from somewhere behind him, added, “Mind the cow.”
What the hell?