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Dean was no stranger to pranking his brother when the opportunity arose. When it came to how messed up and tragic their lives were, he saw no harm in finding happiness in the little things, like fitting old spoons in his brother’s open mouth.
And, yeah, Dean knew he shouldn’t lie to Sam about major life milestones, like the fact that he and Cas were dating now– the word “dating” felt so weird in his mouth but still managed to turn his insides to sappy mush-- but it wasn’t even really lying. Really, it was Sam’s fault for not noticing, because he and Cas had made zero attempts to hide their relationship (and even Jack had commented on it, and Jack was basically a toddler).
No, this wasn’t lying, this was just…a very good opportunity to play a friendly prank on his little brother.
“You said “I love you”,” Sam said as Dean hung up the phone. “Who were you talking to?”
He could’ve sworn he told Sam that he was going to call Cas about the job in Tennessee. “Just my boyfriend.”
He could’ve sworn Sam was smiling, actually smiling. Sam was even more giddy about his relationship than he was. “I didn’t know you got a boyfriend. I’m happy for you, Dean. Who is it?”
Cue the friendly, brotherly prank that Sam was totally going to find funny once he realized who Dean’s boyfriend was.
“You know him,” Dean said, already planning how much PDA he and Cas could get away with before Sam came to his senses. They’d already made out on every inch of the kitchen and Baby, it was a wonder Sam hadn’t walked in on him already.
Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re seriously not going to tell me?”
Dean grinned. “You’re just gonna have to guess.”
“It’s not Crowley, is it?”
Sam had filled the drive to Tennessee with an endless supply of questions about Dean’s mystery boyfriend. Cas had agreed to meet them there since he was visiting Claire before. Sam knew that the boyfriend had dark hair, he knew about the supernatural, and that Sam had met him before.
“What? No, dude, it’s not Crowley,” Dean said, trying to hide his smile. Bob Seger was crooning on the radio as Dean sped past the bright green “Welcome to Tennessee!” sign.
“Are you sure? Because you and him had that weird bromance summer thing going on.”
“I can promise you that my boyfriend has never kissed Bobby.”
Cas hadn’t, right? He couldn’t think of any situation where Cas would need to kiss Bobby, and he was pretty sure Bobby wouldn’t want to kiss Cas. God, his boyfriend kissing his pseudo-dad was not something he needed to be imagining right now.
“How did you two meet?” Sam shifted in the seat, stretching out his long legs as best he could. He was twirling a pen in his fingers, and Dean knew he was probably working on something related to the case, but it was much funnier in his mind to imagine Sam scrawling notes on who Dean’s mystery boyfriend could be.
Sam was making things too easy, Dean thought. “He saved my life. And, I gotta tell you man, sparks were literally flying.”
“That narrows it down,” Sam muttered. “ When did you meet?”
“Technically, I don’t remember the first time we met. We met for the second time shortly after I got pulled out of Hell. You could say he, uh, left a mark the first time around, though.”
Sam groaned, and Dean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Dude, I do not want to know about your random sexcapades.”
Sam and Dean were stretched out on their respective beds, with Sam still peppering Dean with the occasional boyfriend question, which were mostly about when Sam might’ve met Dean’s boyfriend.
What pet names does he like? Definitely not “angel”, and Dean would never dare call anyone besides his car “baby”, but “sweetheart” and “honey” were both fair game.
Do I like him? Yeah, Sam, he’s saved your life, too.
Have you ever worked a case with him? Have I ever worked a case with him? Yes and yes.
How did you get together? He had been patching Dean up after a case, and Dean had suddenly realized he wanted to kiss him, so he did.
“Does Cas know him?” Sam sat up suddenly, as if it was a ground-breaking question he’d asked.
“Of course.”
“Does Cas know you’re dating your boyfriend?”
Finally, Sam might actually be on the verge of a realization. “It would be hard for Cas not to know.”
Sam rolled his eyes, pulling a bitchy expression. “I can’t believe you told Cas before you told me.”
Dean’s brother could be so stupid sometimes. Smart enough to get into law school, but not smart enough to realize this. There was a knock at the door, and Dean stood up to get it, giving Cas a quick hug before letting him in.
“Sammy’s trying to guess who my boyfriend is,” Dean told him, sending Cas a meaningful glance that more or less turned into an opportunity to stare at Cas’s lips. All in the name of teasing Sammy, of course.
Cas pouted, settling down on Dean’s bed. If Sam noticed, he didn’t say anything. “I thought you said you were going to tell him yesterday.”
“I was, but this is a lot more fun.”
Cas glared at Dean as Dean sat down next to him, their hands lying on top of each other on the mattress. Dean glanced up at Sam, who had turned his attention back to the local newspaper he was combing through. Dean leaned in to press a quick kiss to Cas’s cheek.
“How was Claire?”
“She was good. Happy. She has a girlfriend now,” Cas told him. “Apparently her girlfriend brought her flowers for their first date.”
“If you wanted flowers, Cas, you should’ve just told me.”
Dean glanced towards Sam, who seemed to give no indication he even heard Dean’s obvious comment. Except…Dean smiled, watching Sam’s brows furrow as he looked back up, eyes flickering between Dean and Cas.
“Dean, where did you and your boyfriend go for your first date?” Sam asked.
“Oh, I pulled out all the stops. Home-cooked meal and movie night in the Bunker.”
He’d expected Sam to get it with that. There were only so many people they allowed in the Bunker, after all, and most of those people were dead.
Instead, Sam only looked more confused, and annoyed. “You showed him to the Bunker but you won’t tell me his name?”
Dean shot Cas a grin. “See? Isn’t this way more fun than just telling him?”
Cas rolled his eyes, and Dean resolved to make it up to him as soon as they got back to a bed to themselves.
“You know you can tell me, right?” Sam was leaning up against Baby, watching as Cas finished filling the clueless police sheriff on how they’d apprehended the culprit of the murders (who had really been a ghost of a young girl, not that they told the sheriff that part). “I mean, if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. I’m not going to judge you, or anything. You’re my brother, and I love you, no matter what. He does make you happy, right?”
“He does.” The words came out softer than Dean had intended. “And for what it’s worth, I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I thought I was being fairly open about it. But there’s a difference between kissing him and holding his hand and actually telling someone we’re dating, you know? I don’t want to screw this up; it’s too important. I never thought I’d make it out of the hunting life, but he makes me think I can, you know? Like I actually have something worth leaving hunting for.”
He and Cas had never talked about their future, not really. Without another big bad hanging over their heads, though, Dean couldn’t help but slip into a daydream about him and Cas in the suburbs. They’d probably still hunt on the weekends, and they’d help whatever hunters were in the area like Bobby always did, but…there was a certain sort of charm in the picket fence life, now, as long as Cas was the one he was sharing it with. They’d probably end up adopting a cat, for Cas’s sake, of course, and maybe a kid, once they were stable enough.
That was all still a dream, though. He was pretty sure Cas wouldn’t say no, but he still hadn’t exactly brought it up. And he wasn’t about to dump all of that on Sam, either. No, that dream was between Dean and his bedroom ceiling.
“That’s great for you,” Sam said. “Really, it’s nice to hear. When do I get to meet him? As your boyfriend, I mean.”
Dean shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to teach Cas pool. I could send him a text and we could meet up at the bar, have a few post-hunt celebratory drinks.”
Sam nodded. “That sounds great, Dean.”
Dean fired off the text to Cas, and it was almost comical how Sam missed the fact that Cas’s phone buzzed at the same time.
“Yes, I’m free tonight, why?” Cas asked, squinting down at Dean’s text
“Awesome, Cas can come too!”
Per Cas’s request, Dean had been trying to cut back on drinking. But as far as Dean was concerned, bar nights were a free pass, which meant he got a little more tipsy than he normally would, which meant “teaching Cas how to play pool” was code for “draping himself over his hot angel boyfriend like an octopus”.
Dean’s chest was pressed flushed against Cas’s back as he guided Cas’s aim, whispering a steady stream of innuendos into his ear as Cas refused to blush.
“Dean, you’re drunk,” Cas said, almost disapprovingly, as he sent the pool balls scattering across the green.
Dean grinned, throwing his arm around Cas and placing a sloppy kiss to Cas’s cheek. “And you are frigging gorgeous, you know that?”
He half-expected Cas to push him off, but Cas stayed in his grasp long after the last of the balls rolled to a stop. Cas handed him the cue, and Dean winked at him before lining up his shot, sending one of his balls straight into a pocket. Even drunk, he knew how to play pool, especially when Cas had offered to buy him pie if he won.
“Sam keeps asking me when your boyfriend is going to show up.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if we make out really aggressively, he’ll finally get the hint.”
“You just want to make out with me.” Cas sent another stony glare to the bartender, who’d tried to slip Dean her number earlier. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Well, that was enough of an invitation if Dean had ever heard one– not that he could actually hear Cas all that well, with how noisy the bar was, both from the blaring music and the chatter. Pool cue long forgotten, he leaned in to capture Cas’s lips, the familiar taste of them mixed with the bitter beer they’d both been drinking.
Dean knew he must be getting old, because he was sure hangovers didn't used to hurt this much. He groaned as he sat up, gratefully reaching for the water that someone– probably Cas– left for him.
It took him a minute to realize that Sam was looming before him, arms crossed impatiently as he glared down at Dean.
Dean frowned up at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Sam asked, and oh boy, that was his angry, Dean-why’d-you-trick-me-into-saying-yes-to-an-angel voice. “What’s wrong with you , Dean?”
He hadn’t been that drunk last night. The last thing he remembered was making out with Cas, then taking Cas home to their motel room. They hadn’t gone very far, so Dean couldn’t imagine that was what Sam was upset about, especially after all his acceptance talk.
“I saw you and Cas making out in the bar last night,” Sam said. Dean bit back a yes, that’s what people do when they’re extremely attracted to each other. “I mean, after everything you said about your boyfriend, about how great he was and how he made you feel, I can’t believe you’d cheat on him like that! In fact, that’s probably why he didn’t show up last night.”
Dean almost choked on his water. He hadn’t expected Sam would take this thing so seriously. “Really, Sam? You jumped to me cheating on my first real relationship and not the fact that Cas is my boyfriend?”
Sam was actually speechless. His angrily crossed arms fell away from his plaid-covered chest. “Cas is your boyfriend?”
“For a whole three weeks,” Dean replied.
“Oh.” Sam blinked down at him, awkwardly sitting on his bed. He cleared his throat. “Sorry for accusing you of cheating, then. And…I’m happy for you, Dean, I really am.”
“No, hold on,” Dean said. “If you didn’t realize it was Cas was my boyfriend, after all the hyper-specific answers I gave you, who did you possibly think it was?”
Sam smiled sheepishly. “I mean…my best guess was Garth, to be honest.”