Chapter Text
Sam knew Dean was trying to be supportive. He knew that. This was Dean supporting him. And he appreciated it. But it was still a disaster waiting to happen. “Dude, it isn't even that big a deal, okay? It's just..."
"Just his grand opening at a gallery where all the rich hotshot snobs will be there to decide if he's any good? Just the thing that's going to decide the rest of his life?"
Sam couldn't argue with that. "You didn't come sit in the room while I took my LSATs."
"Would you have let me?"
This made him laugh. Because that was entirely, utterly, wonderfully Dean. He would have been there in the room to flash him grins and winks the whole test. He would have been obnoxious and bored, but he would have been there, because that's what Dean was all about, being there and being proud for Sam.
"Remember sitting through Our Town when I was in tenth grade? God, I was awful."
"No. It was cute. You were good."
And that was it. Dean was always convinced he was amazing at everything...except judging people. "Look, you just want to come use his already raw nerves to scare the crap out of him. Don't pretend you're coming to be supportive. It isn't my art!"
Dean's voice quieted, but deepened in that way that said he had already made his decision. "Sam, it isn't your art. But it's an important night for someone who is important to you, and I plan to be there. You can think whatever you want about my motives. You haven't let me meet him, and you've been dating him for going on eight months. So either you're embarrassed by him or you're ashamed of me, and it can't be him because you can dump him but you can't divorce your brother."
He rolled his eyes, taking his phone away from his ear long enough to say a silent prayer for patience. "Firstly, I know your motives. I know you. Secondly, I'm not ashamed of either of you. And lastly, I can absolutely divorce you. We divorced Dad years ago when he went to live with the Milligans while I was still in high school. So don't push your luck."
"I'll see you Saturday, Sammy."
"Don't dress in jeans!" he cried out in exasperation as the line went dead in his hands. He sighed and slumped into a chair. This was going to be a disaster.
***
"Michael, I told you I don't want you making any calls. And I sure as hell don't want you to call Dad back from wherever the hell he is. Where the hell is he anyway? Top a mountain or on a beach? Is this a purification month or a hedonism month?"
"Don't be disrespectful. Dad has worked hard his whole life, and he can spend retirement any way he wants to."
Luke snorted inelegantly. "He can go be a zen monk or a geisha for all I care."
Castiel looked wearily at the other side of his screen, and he could see Michael's eyes shift too. Excellent. Luke was going to be a child again, which in turn would make Michael turn on his ever-suffering, holier than everyone routine.
"Luke, you are the most ungrateful prick. Everything you have is because Dad gave it to you."
"Only because he gave it all to you first, you self-righteous hypocrite! Don't pretend I'm the only trust fund kid! Just because you went and took over the business like the good son-"
"Which you had every opportunity to do! He wanted you to succeed him, not me! I am the good son, but you were always the favorite, always meant to be heir to this whole-"
"Guys! Shut up! You're thirty years old! Would you get over yourselves already? You shared a womb. You can't share a goddamn Zoom screen?"
The twins blinked as though they had forgotten Castiel was even among them.
"Jesus. It's no wonder Dad spends all his time in Asia!" He sighed. "Mike, I'm serious. Don't pull anything for this exhibit."
A slow smile came over Luke's face, and after a beat, it was mirrored on Michael's. Castiel felt his stomach churning. The only time the twins worked together on anything was to make his life difficult.
"Fine, little brother," Luke said smoothly. "No problem! But we're coming."
"What?" His normally deep voice squeaked, and he hated it. "No! What's wrong with you? Why would you come?"
"Do we need a reason to support our baby brother?" Luke asked with wicked sweetness.
Michael was more subtle. "Castiel, you haven't let me meet this man you're seeing. I had to squeeze it out of cousin Gabe that you're getting serious. Luke and I would like to meet him."
"No. Not now. Not while I'm trying to put on my first professional exhibit. Mike, this is everything to me! Please don't make it more stressful!"
"Your pretty Professor Anael going to be there? Saw her on the website-"
"Luke!" Castiel's calm was failing him. "Don't you dare! You are not taking Dr. Anael! I won't let you!"
"We'll let her make her own decisions."
He put his hand over his eyes. "Luke, she is the most incredible artist I have ever known. She's been my mentor for four years. If you ruin that because you're trying to chase tail, I swear I will call Dad and make him cut you off so that no hospital will treat you once I've kicked your ass."
Michael was laughing now. "That was the most convoluted threat-"
"And you! My god, Michael, if you ruin this for me...I know you wanted me to go into business or law, and you weren't thrilled to find out I'm dating men, but please. Please. This exhibit and this man are the best things to ever happen to me. If you care about me at all, please. Don't ruin this for me."
Michael enjoyed it when Castiel pleaded with him. Smug bastard. "Castiel," he said with an air of benevolence that had not fooled his little brother since he was five years old and the twins were thirteen. "You know I only want what's best for you!"
Castiel put his face down into his hands. He could still feel Michael's eyes and hear Luke laughing.
***
Sam had never seen Castiel’s eyes so wild with worry. It made him sick to see it, especially knowing he was about to make things exponentially worse. “How can I help?” he asked quietly.
Castiel was staring out at the open space of the gallery with a lost look on his face. “There’s nothing else I can do. I’ve readjusted everything four times. I’ve changed my mind about thirteen pieces, and changed it back about all thirteen. I can’t even…There’s nothing else. I can’t change anything now. Sam, I’m going to throw up.”
It was breaking his heart to hear him talking like this. Castiel’s normal confidence and good humor were entirely absent, and his ever-present smirk was replaced with exhaustion. Sam took him in his arms inside the empty gallery. “Cas, this whole thing is amazing! You can’t change anything because you’re done. Because it’s perfect. Look at this. I’m so proud of you!”
The blue gaze lifted under dark brows pulled together in tension. “Yeah?”
The fact that Castiel was even looking for his encouragement made Sam sigh. “Absolutely.” He pulled his lover to sit on the floor, surrounded by the work that encapsulated Castiel’s soul. The artist leaned against him heavily, and Sam kept him pulled in tight to his body, Castiel’s back to his chest. “Do you remember the first time you noticed me?”
Finally, he could hear a tiny smile creep into Castiel’s voice, and there was immediate relief in his shoulders. “Of course. You shot down my argument in Abner’s class.”
Sam’s mouth curved, and he let his chin rest on Castiel’s head. “You ever wonder when I first noticed you?”
“What? It wasn’t while you were pointing out how short-sighted I am about intellectual properties law and rights of artists and the public?”
He laughed quietly. “No. I could do that in my sleep.”
“You did sometimes. Abner’s bane. You’d come in after your criminal law class and collapse into the desk and zone out, but every time you had to give an answer, it was so logical, he just stopped bothering to call on you because you killed off every class debate we had, while making your disdain for artists painfully clear.”
“I harbor no disdain for artists like you. Just stupid ones.”
“Right. I forgot. Just the stupid ones.” He slipped his own hand over Sam’s. “So? When did you first notice the awkward senior with bedhead wandering campus?”
“If you mean my beautiful angel with sex hair? It wasn’t even in class. Honestly, I kind of…”
“Didn’t even see me in class? Ignored my existence? Shot down my debates with your eyes shut and your head not even off the desk? Missed every solitary signal I sent you? Couldn’t have been less interested if I had been sitting on the other side of campus? Wouldn’t have noticed if I’d been sitting in your lap?”
Sam’s face was burning pink. “Shut up. Jackass. I just didn’t…”
“Pay attention? Care? Have any interest whatsoever in the guy racing across the dell to get into class in time to watch you walk in? Didn’t have any attraction in the slightest for the poor artist who alternated between closing his eyes to listen to your voice and refusing to blink because he might miss you smirking at another poor art student?”
“God, you make me sound like an asshole.”
“Which part wasn’t true?”
“Okay, all of that might be true. But only because by the time I got to I.P., I had already gone through Dr. Visyak’s medieval studies and Dr. Gadreel’s criminal law, and I was so burned out. And be fair; I didn't need to be awake for I.P. Me being oblivious and exhausted has nothing to do with whether or not I found you attractive once I did see you.”
Castiel laughed and curled in as if he could get closer to Sam than he already was. “Sure, sure. Whatever, Adonis. You don’t have to pretend you're not way out of my league. It’s all right. Go on. When did you first notice me? Tell the truth. Was it before or after we had sex for the first time?”
Sam attacked the sensitive area under Castiel’s knee and was rewarded with great satisfaction by the echoing yelp he gave. “New rule. Jackasses get tickled.”
The artist huffed at him, and threw a sharp elbow into his chest. “New rule. Ticklers get punched.”
He snickered, and put one hand out to brace them on the floor as he settled Castiel back onto his chest. “You were painting your black crows.”
“As opposed to all those pink crows I’ve painted.”
“Screw you. I’m trying to tell you when you first took my breath away. It’s romantic. Now shut up.”
Castiel laughed at him.
“You were painting outside on the ground. Remember?”
“Of course. But I don’t remember you being anywhere around while I was doing that.”
Sam pinched him on the arm. “See? I’m not the only one oblivious sometimes. You were so focused on your crows that I probably could have been lying naked five feet away, and you wouldn’t have noticed me.”
“If you’d been five feet away, everything from the knees down would still have been in my way.”
“Cas!” he snapped.
His lover laughed happily, and turned to kiss him over his shoulder. “Okay. I was on my hands and knees, outside the art studios, messing with color blends. So?”
“So your shirt was off, jackass.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I literally walked into a tree.”
Castiel sat back and stared at him, an enormous grin spreading across his face. “What?”
Sam’s blush was feverish. “You heard me. I walked into a tree because I was turned back to stare at you.”
“I didn’t quite catch that.”
“I am not saying that again. There’s a reason I hadn’t told you before now. But I thought you’d appreciate laughing at my expense today.”
“Wait. When the hell was this? I mean, I remember working on the crows, but when…?”
Sam cringed. “About two weeks before Charlie gave you my number. She knew who you were, because she was there with me when I went ass over tea kettle slamming into the vegetation outside Stark Hall.”
Castiel was shaking with quiet laughter by this point, and he sputtered on his question. “You-you actually fell?”
“You’re making me sorry I told you.”
“Oh, my god. Sam, yes, I needed this today. You are so amazingly adorable. I can picture it!”
“Officially sorry I told you.”
The artist grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him through giggles. “No,” he breathed, “no, I’m so glad you did. God, I love you. So Charlie knew? She knew you were interested?”
“Yeah. And then she didn’t tell me you asked for my number. Any true friend would have warned me, having seen the way I apparently react to you catching me off guard.”
“My god, you’re just perfect, you know that? I suffered through a painful crush on you for months, then you went and almost damaged yourself all in a few seconds.”
“I was damaged. I had bruises.”
Castiel raised himself up onto his knees and crawled over him. “My poor baby,” he purred. “Let me kiss it all better.”
“It’s been eight months, asshole. It’s healed.”
“But the ego hasn’t,” Castiel pointed out. “And that’s probably stored around here, isn’t it?”
Sam made an undignified noise at the placement of Castiel’s long fingers. “Hey! Public place, Arch! Get off me!”
The artist sulked, but he removed himself. “Then take me home,” he sighed. “I’ve done as much as I can do tonight. I’ll just stand here tomorrow night, and think about my stunning shoulders making you slam into a tree while my brothers are in here ruining my show. It’ll help.”
As they stood and brushed themselves off, Sam chewed on his lip. Castiel was locking the door behind him with his loaned key before Sam could make himself speak. “Yeah. About your brothers coming.”
“Sam, I told you. Just agree with everything Michael says, and pretend Luke is funny. It’ll be fine. Just get through it, and I will reward you with mind-blowing-"
“My brother’s coming too.”
Castiel froze. Then, very slowly, his lips parted. “Your what’s what-ing what?”
Under any other circumstances, Sam would have loved to have teased him about that sentence. Instead, he cringed. “Yeah. Dean’s coming tomorrow.” He shrugged and forced a nauseated smile onto his face. “Surprise?”
“This is not happening to me.”