Chapter Text
The thing about Sam was that he didn't really care at all about what behaviors were stereotyped as “gay” or “romantic”. The thing about Castiel was that he cared even less, quite possibly because he spent eons not knowing about them. It was, in fact, this utter lack of caring which allowed the two of them to be so caring toward each other. After they had realized their admiration and affection toward the other was mutual, Sam and Cas became pretty much inseparable.
The vast majority of the people they associated with, who actually took stock in the stereotypes, found this pretty damn amusing and, in no small degree, adorable.
~o0o~
Sam and Cas first realized that their behaviors were not considered “normal” for two platonic male friends when they were wandering about Pike Place Market, hoping to find the cursed object they suspected was responsible for several deaths. The problem was, the market was just as thin as it was long. There wasn't much breathing room. For Sam, who was much larger than your average human, and Cas, who was still not accustomed to large, loud, fast-moving groups of people, this was not an ideal situation.
Without speaking, the two reached out and linked hands, and stayed that way until they exited the market. It was then that Dean turned around and noticed. He lifted an eyebrow knowingly.
“Somethin' you two wanna tell me?”
Sam and Cas shared a look. Neither of them knew what he meant. Had they been acting strangely? They shook their heads almost in unison. Dean... well, there was no other word for it. Dean smirked. It was the patented big-brother, I-know-something-you-don't-want-me-to-and-I'm-gonna-give-you-hell-about-it-for-months smirk. Now Sam was really worried.
“So the hand-holding thing? That's no big deal? Doesn't... mean anything?” Dean asked skeptically.
Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted. “No. Why would it?” Dean started friggin' beaming at them. Sam knew what this about now, and if he weren't still gripping Castiel's hand tight, he would have flipped his brother off with both hands. As it was, Dean would have to settle for just the left. Dear god, that was the most shit-eating grin that Sam had ever seen grace Dean's face.
This wouldn't end well, he knew it.