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It was late, and Sam was tired. Too tired for whatever was going down at the moment with Dean, who was ignoring everything he was saying.
Dean was giving Castiel a look. Which wow, Sam really couldn’t quite believe they had a real, live angel standing stubbornly too close to his brother in a shitty motel room. Significantly, Dean nodded towards the sofa in a clear invitation for Castiel to sit, but the angel continued to look blandly at Dean’s face.
Sam cleared his throat.
“Sorry, what?” Dean asked, breaking off whatever weird staring conversation he was having with the angel, who looked smug for a brief second as he purposefully stepped closer into Dean’s personal bubble before slipping his bland mask into place. Sam could only assume it was Castiel: 1 and Dean: 0 for this round of psychic arguments.
“I said, I’m guessing you want to get out of here for a while. Hit the town or whatever,” Sam repeated, gesturing vaguely towards the door. Dean always wanted to pick up a local or two after a successful hunt, and Sam could only assume he was itching to get back into his life after his trip to hell.
Dean turned to look at Sam, really look at him that is.
“Uh, actually. I was thinking of just watching a movie and crashing?” he said, voice rising on the end like he really wasn’t sure.
Sam laughed. “Right. Look, just make sure to call and let me know if you need the room before bringing over the girls this time. Last time you kicked me out so fast I didn’t even have time to grab my laptop.”
“Uhh, yeah,” Dean winced. “Sorry about that. But really, dude. I think I’m going to stay in tonight.”
“Dean, it’s ok. I asked at the front desk when we checked in and there are a few rooms still open. I can totally clear out if you can’t make it back to her place.”
“No, I don’t—” Dean made an odd face, like he just sniffed sour milk. Cas bumped his shoulder, less than a nudge and more of a pressing of his body against Dean. Dean made another face at this while Sam rolled his eyes. He nudged Cas back, turning to pull his laundry bag from his duffle. Cas smirked before turning to Sam.
“I think you should understand, Sam,” Cas said as Dean fussed suspiciously with the clothes. “I’m sure your thoughtfulness is appreciated,” -Dean muttered something rude sounding under his breath -“But I believe that Dean would appreciate it if you were to drop this matter, for the foreseeable future.”
“For the—wait, what?” Sam fumbled, confused.
“Dude. I told you he wouldn’t get if you told him,” Dean griped, but Cas shushed him.
“Yes. Dean won’t be needing such consideration on your part any longer. He does not want to have sexual relations with women tonight.”
“He doesn’t…” Sam blinked, reassessing. “He doesn’t want sexual relations with women? Oh, uhh,” Sam blushed. “You mean he’s into guys?” he asked, intrigued. “I always figured Dean was bisexual, but if the women were just a cover…”
“Dude! Right here you know!” Dean objected, but Cas waved him silent with a soothing gesture. To Sam’s shock Dean actually shut it, and, although he was obviously pissed, he just kept sneaking worried glances at the angel as Cas moved to address Sam again.
“I feel that I should clarify. Your brother is open to romantic relationships with any gender; he just does not want to engage in intercourse with them. He is not interested in sex.”
Sam gapped, opened and then closed his mouth a few times before recovering enough of his wits to reply. “But, Dean’s always interested in sex,” he cast Dean a despairing look, wanting backup on this because he and Castiel were obviously on two different planets here. But suspiciously, Dean refused to meet his eyes, opting instead to give his utmost attention to sorting laundry.
“Dean?”
“What do you want me to say Sammy? He ain’t lying.”
“I wouldn’t lie,” Castiel said. Sam could almost see his feathers ruffling in indignation from the way he held himself up stiffly, er…stiffer.
“I have held your soul and I would never distort what it was that I saw.”
Dean was conspicuously silent after that and Sam could almost feel the burn of his own synapsis firing in an attempt to process this new information about his brother.
“I don’t get it.” He finally admitted. “You don’t like either? L-like since hell, or since forever?
“Sam,” Dean sighed heavily, giving up on the laundry and throwing it back into bag. “Look. I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s not because of hell. It’s always been like this for me. I just,” he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up every direction. “I just never thought it was ok till Cas said it’s natural and shit.”
“That’s, uh,” Sam shook his head. “Not that I disagree or anything, but isn’t that kind of weird for an angle to say?” he looked at Cas. “Isn’t procreation like, one of the big things humans are supposed to do? Biological imperative or whatever?”
“Do you really believe that the main purpose of a person’s life is to simply beget as many children as possible? What would be the point in that?” Cas shook his head, bemused. “No, procreation is just one of the many acts a human can do, and I think you will find that how you care for or treat the humans already on the earth matters the most, and even then there are so many different ways to care.”
“You heard it here first,” Dean said bitterly.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to be obnoxious about it. It’s just that, you’ve always been so, “Sam made a vague hand gesture, “I don’t know. Mr. Sex I guess. Why the heck would you fake all that?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I?” Dean threw up his hands, but Cas touched his shoulder lightly and he dropped them, taking a deep breath.
“I don’t know if you noticed Sam, but I like people. Even if people do believe that I don’t want sex they aren’t usually willing to stick around after that. I prefer not to chase my only chance at death free socialization away with my weird sex issues.”
Sam winced. “Cas is right. You aren’t weird, Dean. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, I was just surprised is all.”
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean said, pleading. “Can we not talk about this anymore? Telling my little brother all about my sex life is not how I wanted to spend my night.”
Sam nodded reluctantly and Dean eyed him warily as it kind of looked like he wanted to go in for a hug.
“Well, I’m going to shower now, I guess.” Sam said, stepping awkwardly around Cas to grab his stuff.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is. Go take your shower. Me and Cas are going to watch some TV and chill.”
With an embarrassed nod, Sam fled to the privacy of the bathroom to spend some time with his own thoughts.
Dean blew out a breath, throwing himself down on the sofa to bury his face in his arms.
Cas sighed as well. Walking over to the couch, he lifted Dean’s head, drawing him up until he could sit down, then resting Dean’s head on his lap.
“Sam will be fine,” he said as Dean grumbled, settling down. “He just needs a little time, I think.”
“Or he could just decide to go with the theory that I’m full of shit, or like, traumatized by hell.”
Cas ran a hand through Dean’s hair soothingly. “He could. But that would be his problem to overcome and would not reflect on the reality of your feelings on the matter. It it’s any comfort, I would not let him act out on such delusions,” he brushed lock of hair away from Dean’s eyes. “But I don’t really think he would be so prejudiced, do you?”
‘I guess not,” Dean sighed. “But Sam’s always been pretty accepting of all sorts of weird things. I mean, he’s probably ok with this kind of stuff already and he’s just being an asshole because it’s me,” he turned, pressing his face into Cas’ leg as he sighed again. Cas’ hands moved to scratch gently along the back of Dean’s scalp as the hunter gathered his thoughts.
“Is this ok?” Dean murmured into the angel’s thigh.
The hands in his hair stilled for a second before resuming their soft, repetitive movement. “If you are referring to what we are doing now, then I would say yes. Unless my ‘cuddling’ is not up to standard, in which case I apologies. I don’t have much cuddling experience.”
Dean snorted, wiggling forward to be higher up on Cas’ lap. The angel obligingly pulled the sad little motel pillow off the far edge of the couch to put under Dean’s head to prop him up.
“You know, I’ve spent so long thinking I must be broken. Hell, I fought it so hard that Sam can barely wrap his mind around the truth.”
Cas paused, thinking.
“I believe that wanting to please others, to fulfill their expectations of you is one of your more prominent characteristics.” he finally said, turning his palm to stroke the side of Deans face.
Dean snorted, but turned his nose into the touch anyway. “You’re such a rude little shit, you know that?” he said, mouth twitching to hold back a smirk.
Sam emerged from the shower just around the point Dean dozed off. Seeing his older brother asleep in Cas’ lap, Sam only blinked. Cas smiled at him as he moved quietly around the couch to hit the lights, leaving them with just the soft light of a bedside lamp.
“Night, Cas,” Sam said, climbing in under the starched motel bedspread.
“Goodnight, Sam.”
The next morning found the Winchesters in the unusual position of having an early breakfast after a long, easy night’s sleep, able to just relax and not worry about grave dirt under their nails or abused muscles. Cas had been gone when Sam woke, but Dean didn’t seem too worried about it so he had said nothing about it, suggesting instead that they hit up a diner.
“So,” Sam said after they got their orders in and their coffee had arrived. “There’s one thing I don’t get about everything from last night.”
Dean choked a little on his drink. “What, only one?”
Sam coughed. “Yeah, uhm. So Cas. He’s known about all this for a while?”
He didn’t mean for that to sound accusing, but his brother had apparently been hiding this huge part of himself his whole life and then he goes and tells some supernatural creature over his own brother.
Dean made a face, some uncomfortable mix of fond and horrified. “Yeah, Cas knows. Guy holds your soul once and apparently some things aren’t so secret anymore. Not my choice.”
“But you’re cool with this?”
Dean was bright red at this point. “Jesus, Sammy. It’s obvious I’m good with it, unless you think I let Cas molest me with hugs for kicks.”
“Ok, cool,” Sam said.
“Cool?” Dean’s said, dubiously.
“Yeah. I mean, if that’s the way you are then that’s fine. It’s cool.”
“It’s fine.” Dean’s expression was one of incredulity.
“Dean.”
“Sorry. I appreciate it thought, uhh, you being cool with it and all.”
“Yeah man. I’m glad you trusted me with this. I want you to be happy.”
Dean certainly looked happy, but that might have just been because the food arrived and he had sausage, pancakes, and hash browns to dig into.
After the initial inhaling of food had tapered off Sam cleared his throat.
“So is this it then, for you?” he asked.
Dean squinted, suspiciously.
“I mean,” Sam backtracked. “Cas. Cas and you,” Dean’t posture only released slightly, the suspicious squint became more of a shifty side eye.
“What do you mean?”
Sam cleared his throat. “You know what I mean, you asshat. Cas. Is he it for you? Do you, you know, like-like him?”
Dean was blushing now, scowling down at his breakfast. “Jeez, dude. It’s not like I don’t care or something just because I don’t want to bump uglies with people. I still like people.”
Sam said nothing, deploying his caring, imploring face. He knew it was working when Dean scrunched his nose and started shoveling hash browns into his face.
“Yeah, Cas is it for me. Happy now?”
Sam smirked. “Very.”