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Despite everything Sam loves his brother, truly, he does, he swears to god he does. Their shared shitty childhood had left them closer than any other siblings he knew, but if he had to sit through one more speech about the new restaurant down the block which had opened just under a month ago and promptly stolen Dean’s heart - he may just never see his brother again. Whether it was via murder, disownment or Dean running away to live at the restaurant Sam wasn’t sure.
He had taken to waxing poetic about Angel Hair . According to Dean it was the greatest restaurant of all time. “Truly, Heaven on Earth.” He had told Sam and with a concerningly serious face Dean had asserted, “I’m not a religious man but I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself was the chef behind such sheer genius. I’m telling you Sammy, I’m going to get their recipes if I have to marry the goddamn chef,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“I think the chef can do better than you Dean, didn’t you see that fancy article on them?”
Dean rolled his eyes as he walked ahead of Sam, pushing open the door with one shoulder while wildly gesturing. Sam could swear he saw hearts literally appear in his brother’s eyes as he took in the restaurant, taking a deep breath in as he soaked in the smell of the food. The restaurant was small, all exposed red brick and low light. Four booths lined the far wall and a bar sat at the back of the restaurant. A dozen and a half small round tables were dotted around the open floor with the outdated host stand sitting unassuming a few feet from the door.
Dean’s eyes were alight as he sauntered towards the host stand. Leaning over it as he seemed to be seeking out any secrets which could be hiding in the reservations book which looked older than the restaurant itself. There was a rustling coming from behind the bar near where Sam assumed the kitchen would be. As a man was pushed out into the restaurant proper. Haphazardly tying on a half apron over his white button up and black slacks. His small gold name tag read “Jimmy”.
The man could only be described as uptight, despite his messy hair and crooked tie, with a customer service smile which looked like it was painful for him plastered on his face. Standing back as Dean basically draped himself over the stand, Sam waited for Dean to finish his pleas for the recipe so the poor worker could show them to their seats. After effectively shutting down Dean’s requests for information the host led them to their table. Sam followed him to the booth in the back corner while Dean wallowed for a moment more before joining him, sliding into the bench across from Sam.
Ever since Dean's first visit to the little hole in the wall that just barely classified as a restaurant, Sam had been dragged out with him every other night as Dean seemed incapable of exercising the self control necessary to go to literally any other restaurant or god forbid cook for himself at home. He knew how to cook. Sam knew Dean knew how to cook. Hell, Dean even liked cooking. John hadn’t exactly been the most stable of parental figures and out of necessity Dean had been cooking for years. Hell, Sam would even (begrudgingly) describe him as a good cook. At the very least he was a better cook than Sam had ever been.
Barely glancing at the menu Dean was ready to order, expectantly looking up at Sam with betrayal as if Sam was the weird one for actually taking a moment to decide what he wanted to eat without automatically knowing that he was going to order the same thing he had eaten at least 3 times already this week despite the fact it was only Friday. Setting his menu to the side they waited for their waitress to take their order. Dean was buzzing with an excitement that Sam didn’t understand. The food was good but there were many good restaurants. Their town wasn’t tiny; there were at least 3 other restaurants on the same road. Most of them even served food which was pretty good.
After successfully ordering their food Dean seemed to be celebrating a victory which Sam just simply didn’t share.
Leaning back in his seat Sam looked across the table, his eyes wandering around, taking in the small, unassuming restaurant, “I don’t get it.”
Dean laughed him off, teasing “I'm not sure what you mean. There’s just so many things you don’t understand.” He had dragged the ‘so’ out, really pulling out his annoying older brother card.
Steeling his defences a little, Sam prepared himself for what was a very necessary conversation. Turning towards Dean, finalising his assessment of the situation, “Why we’ve been here 3 times this week alone, Dean, surely the shop isn’t making enough money to eat out every night.”
“Worry about your own finances Mr. I’m a big shot lawyer who went to Stanford. The shop’s doing fine,” Sam raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “A man’s gotta eat.” Sam’s eyebrow inched further upwards.
“Really that’s it. It’s just about the food.” Sam feels his gaze drift pointedly towards Jimmy before deciding that if Dean wants to keep his ignorance he shouldn't take it from him. Him and Bobby had had a conversation about allowing Dean to come out in his own time. It had been obvious for years but Dean hadn’t seemed comfortable telling them so they had decided to let him come to them in his own time. Dean looked like he was going to continue trying to justify his ridiculous restaurant habits when their food was rudely delivered by their waitress who didn’t hesitate to place the correct food in front of them, clearly used to Dean’s standard order.
Dean didn’t hesitate to grab his fork and dig into the towering pile of pasta which laid on his plate. Sam had a mouthful of his own dish chewing, thoughtful; the smell wafting across the table reminded Sam of something but he didn’t quite know what so instead of bothering to identify why it felt so familiar he dug into his own food. The pasta was incredible, there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that the chef was very talented. Each time Dean had dragged him to the restaurant he had tried a different dish and each one had been exactly what it should have been; perfectly cooked and well balanced flavours, but Dean was never one to treat himself to luxuries.
There was something here that Sam just did not know and Sam hated not knowing things. Leaning back in the booth he tried to assess his brother who seemed enraptured and content, peaceful in a way that Sam couldn’t remember him being except in brief flashes in more recent memory.
At the end of the meal, as the pretty but mean waitress once more brought him the check Sam couldn’t help but wonder if there was perhaps a more budget friendly way of eating day to day.
It was too much, almost every night Dean had invited him out to Angel Hair and the food was good but damn, Sam needed some variety. It was hard to say ‘No’ to Dean, especially on something as trivial as this. Sam had managed it twice and, honestly, he was proud of himself. His therapist had described him and Dean as ‘dangerously codependent’, they were clearly wrong.
It had been weeks and Dean’s obsession didn’t seem to be slowing down. The moment Dean realised it wasn’t about the food and actually fessed up to his crush the better for everyone.
Everything had to come to a point eventually and Sam was ready to do something about the situation, “Dude, what is with your obsession with that restaurant, really?”
Dean crawled himself out from under the car he was working on, looking Sam dead in the eyes he replied “I just like the food Sammy, damn, can’t a man have taste.”
Unfortunately for Dean his attempt at lying was fruitless, Sam could tell he was lying as soon as he bothered looking Sam in the eyes. “C’mon, you’ve never been like this with anything before. It must be something… or someone.”
Dean studiously pretended not to hear the last addition to that statement. “It reminds me of mom. Okay.” he looked away from his brother. “Something they put in the sauce reminds me of the casserole she used to make me when I was sick.”
Finally the truth or at least a half truth. Sam had a list of a million words he would use to describe his brother but small wasn’t one of them.
As Dean shrunk in on himself he looked small.
He knew he wasn’t going to get anything else out of his brother by the way he rolled back under the car.
Sam couldn’t believe that he was doing this but he found himself once more at Angel Hair this time without the company of his brother. Walking up to the host stand they spotted him, recognition sparking in his eyes despite the fact that Sam was pretty sure that he had never seen this man before in his life. Sam was not nearly as regular a customer as his brother and given the fact that this was not the regular host the recognition was baffling. A certain level of mirth was hiding behind the faux professionalism in his eyes, “Alone tonight?” A pause Sam could see the laughter in his eyes, ”Table for one?” The joke was clearly at Sam’s expense and he reminded himself that he was, in fact, on a fact finding mission. A single employee was not enough to deter him.
“No, I’m here to plead with the owner for the sake of my brother’s wallet,” He could see the host holding back his laugh as he glanced down to the man’s name tag.
Jimmy. Huh. Strange.
What a weird coincidence that they had two hosts named Jimmy.
“Take a seat. He’s just stepped out but I’m sure he’d love to discuss this with you.”
Sam could’ve sworn he heard him laughing as he walked back to the kitchen but he may have been hallucinating, it had been a weird day.
Never one to be good with boredom, Sam looked around the restaurant and it seemed like another world while sunlight beamed in from the two big windows that faced out onto the street. It was early and the restaurant was quiet, a stark contrast to the way it wasnormally packed out with customers. Sam could hear the fans running in the kitchen and the ambient music which normally played through the dining room remained silent. They probably hadn’t expected anyone this early.
Eventually he gave up, pulling out his phone; he scrolled mindlessly for a bit before he heard a disruption from the kitchen.
“Goddamn it Gabe, I left the kitchen for two seconds, you know the rules.”
Sam could hear the responding laugh though the other man’s spoken response was fully obscured by his own raucous laughter.
He had looked up from his phone when he heard the new voice in the kitchen, unmistakably Jimmy’s and he watched him push through the swing doors onto the dining room floor.
“You said you wanted to see the owner?”Jimmy sounded sceptical, like he didn’t trust the message which had been passed along.
Sam suddenly felt a little defensive, like he was being accused of becoming the sort of person who demanded to ‘speak to the manager’.
He worked in a Biggerson’s to get through college, he knew better.
“Yeah I did,” Sam tried to make it sound as friendly as possible, “Could you get him for me?”
Jimmy blinked, once, twice, before apparently making up his mind, “You’re looking at him.”
“Wait. You own Angel Hair .”
Somehow it was more devastating when Jimmy looked at him like he was dumb then when Dean did it. “Yes.”
“Why are you the host then? I thought the chef owned Angel Hair ? Some dude named Castiel.”
“I prefer Cas.”
Sam still wasn’t getting it.
“I’m the chef, and the host, and the busboy, and the dishwasher, and the owner. Really just whatever we need on the day and unfortunately for me the host I hired has now called out sick more times than I can count.”
“Well why does your badge say Jimmy?” Sam was pretty sure he had delivered that one more like a gotcha than he had intended.
“Because I was never meant to deal with customers, so I never had one made. If this was ever going to be a problem,” Jimmy, not Jimmy - Cas raised his voice, half shouting in the vague direction of the kitchen, “someone promised they would deal with front of house for me so I could cook in goddamn peace.”
The other fake Jimmy poked his head out of the kitchen. ”Oh bite me, I did my time out the front.”
“And you triple sat Meg. I’m like 90% sure she was about to murder you.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“What about the time,” Cas didn’t have the opportunity to finish before other fake Jimmy interrupted.
“I take no responsibility for that.”
After a look from Cas that Sam was like 80% sure meant that Cas knew fake Jimmy knew it very much was his fault. Cas finally turned back to Sam and away from the kitchen, “and that is why you don’t start a restaurant with your brother.”
Sam sat there dumbly, not quite sure what he was meant to do with their fond bickering.
“So you wanted to speak to the owner.” Cas slumped into the chair across from Sam heaving a sigh that said he really didn’t want to deal with a potential complaint before pulling himself back stiffly upright, “How can I help you?”
Sam didn’t really know how to lead into it so he just came out with it, “I need your recipe for the chef’s special”
He really shouldn’t be surprised that Cas said no but it left him sort of rudderless. Dean couldn't afford to continue spending that sort of money on food and didn’t seem to want to stop either. Sam just needed to regroup and come at the problem from another angle. There was just one problem after such a crushing rejection Sam wasn’t sure how to continue.
Hovering outside for a moment to regain himself he heard someone. Other fake Jimmy had followed him outside. The expression on his face said trouble but Sam decided to ignore it when he held out his hand.
“Gabe.”
Sam reached out and gripped his hand in a firm handshake, “Sam.”
“So I think it’s about time we make our brother’s admit they’re in love.”
He really had no idea how he was meant to do this. Gabe had made it all seem so simple. ‘Just convince Dean to invite Cas to hang out with him’ like it was that easy. Every single time he had tried to convince him to do it Dean would change the topic as soon as Sam brought Cas up. He had almost slipped up and called Cas by his actual name to Dean once which he did not feel like explaining how he knew him as anything but Jimmy.
“Fine, you win.”
Sam was going to bask in the moment for a second, “Say it again.”
Huffing out a breath Dean forced it through gritted teeth, “you win…” the resignation in his voice only made Sam feel more victorious, as Dean moped in defeat, “The bet,” a sigh. “You win the bet. What is my punishment?”
So this is what true joy felt like, “Oh I think I know just the thing.”
Sam hovers awkwardly behind Dean as he scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “Hey Jimmy,” Sam winces, stifling a laugh behind his hand as Dean’s earnest sincerity bleeds through his words and Cas grimaces. “Would you maybe wanna… hang out sometime?” Cas looks so uncomfortable that Sam wouldn’t be surprised if he currently wanted to jump out of his skin (or a window). Judging by the look on his face he would prefer to be dragged to hell than be currently standing there
Never one to miss out on an opportunity, Gabe pops his head out of the kitchen, “Yeah Jimmy. Did you want to hang out with Dean?”
Looking a little too much like he had been replaced by a beetroot Cas shrunk into himself, his trench coat suddenly looking five sizes too big as he tried to hide away from the scrutiny.
“It’s Cas.”
Dean looked like he was trying to work out the meaning of life in his head as he tried to puzzle together the words coming out of Cas’ mouth, “What’s Cas?”
“My name. Well actually it’s Castiel but my friends call me Cas.”
Sam was well versed in his brother's many facial expressions and the look currently on Dean’s face was immense regret and embarrassment. He was sure that Dean was trying to be smooth, unfortunately the slightly squeaky quality to his voice lessened the impact.
“Oh. Um. Then Cas would you like to hangout… sometime… with me?” When Cas didn’t immediately respond with an answer Sam watched as Dean panicked more. “As friends obviously,”
Cas looked like he was fully ready to curl up into a ball with the horror of it all, but his answer seemed like a forgone conclusion at this point, “Sure.”
Dean finally seemed to exhale, the imperceptible breath he’d been holding released as he allowed himself to relax for a moment. Step one of the plan was underway and now Sam just really had to check with Gabe what the other steps were.
After their ‘hangout’ Sam had waited for Dean to get home. He was concerned, Dean never dealt with his feelings but this was a whole new level of denial, even for Dean. He had changed his outfit, like, five times before settling on the same thing he wears everyday (just with slightly fewer stains). Sam had jokingly called it a date and Dean had immediately shut down.
Watching Dean hover a bit too long in the car Sam moved to what he hoped was a nonchalant position sitting on the stairs. As if trying to slip in unnoticed, Dean quietly opened the door before very tenderly closing it behind him. Exhaling softly before turning and promptly jumping out of his skin as he sees Sam perched on the stairs.
Dean had a look that Sam expertly recognised as panic on his face. Remaining on his seat on the stairs Sam raised an eyebrow. “You like Cas.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement. Sam had promised Bobby not to force Dean to confront it and that was all well and good for Bobby but he didn’t have to deal with Dean’s constant pining. It was annoying and Sam was done. Dean was going to at least face his feelings for Cas if nothing else.
“I don’t like Cas, I don’t. I can tell that you don’t believe me but I don’t.” Sam decided to let his silence speak for him, “I mean what would that even look like. I work mornings, he works nights, well I assume he would, I’ve never actually asked.” Dean had started to pace and flail, just a little bit. Sam remained silent, maintaining a non-judgemental silence or at least that was the goal, “What would we even do, we’d never see each other and then what? Would I kiss him? I mean his lips look soft but I’m not gay. I can’t be gay. I like chicks, I can't be gay” Sam held up his hands in surrender as the pacing and flailing got worse. “And what then, we’d go on a few dates, buy a house and get married. What would we even do on a date, talk and laugh and he’s so funny, Sam. He’s got this deadpan sense of humour and he doesn’t understand my references, but he did offer to watch Star Wars with me, when I made a joke about Emperor Palpatine and he didn’t get it.” Dean seemed to be losing steam and Sam was so ready for Dean to finally realise how he felt. He had just imagined their whole life together, surely he realised. “Cas isn’t even that good. He’s kind of short. He’s serious all the time. He does this head tilt thing when he’s confused and he’s so fucking nice, like weirdly nice, like he tipped like 30%, who has the money to tip 30%. It was just coffee. Anyway none of that matters, I’m not gay.” Dean finally stilled as if he were fully convinced that he had just presented a fool-proof case.
Sam finally decided to chime in, “Have you considered you might be bi?”
Apparently Sam had said the wrong thing as Dean turned bright red and stomped upstairs past Sam without uttering another word.
Pulling his phone from his back pocket Sam flicked a message to Gabe, they thought this might be a problem.
Scheming was apparently frighteningly natural for Gabe and Sam would’ve been scared if it wasn’t so useful to him at the moment.
Bobby was not impressed with Sam’s scheming or plotting. “No seriously, Bobby, you don’t understand Dean is fully in denial”
The phone line crackled. A gaping reminder of the distance between him and the only person he trusted to give him any sort of advice.
“Sam that boy lives in denial,” he could hear a vague rustling in the background probably because Bobby was rummaging through a cupboard, “We cannot burst his bubble; he'll retreat even further into it. Remember Linus?”
The silence was meaningful, pointed, a sharp reminder of the way Sam had made Dean close himself off by prodding at an open wound.
“Yeah but you don’t have to watch them make heart eyes at each other. Every. Other. Goddamn. Night.”
“It can’t be that bad Sam.”
The restaurant was stifling. The air conditioner was whirring away efficiently keeping the room at a cool 73 degrees but the tension which had settled over the table since Cas sat him, Dean and Bobby was unreal.
It was nice to see Bobby. It had been far too long since he’d made the journey out to visit but sometimes he just got so wrapped up in his own life everything else fell to the wayside; between Dean trying to go broke and his dozen current cases at work Sam had the feeling without this he wouldn’t have seen Bobby for quite a bit.
As always the food was perfect, Sam was pretty sure at this point Cas refused to serve him and Dean anything which didn’t meet the highest of quality standards or maybe Cas was just always like that. Cas had gone through all the awkward meeting the parents motions as he tried to check in with them, his posture impeccable and his dishevelled coat looked like he had tried to straighten it.
When the waiter went to get them the check Sam was struck by how different this evening could’ve gone with a different ‘father’ of theirs and despite everything Sam was grateful for his little family, Dean and Bobby weren’t always the most open but, hell, they sure beat the hell out of john.
Three ‘secret’ dates later Dean finally decided to spill the beans. Sam knew everything already; Gabe had been keeping him in the loop. Despite Dean’s staunch refusal to share anything with his brother and the ridiculous sneaking he had attempted to keep his excursions off of Sam’s radar. Sam knew basically everything, apparently Cas had no qualms about sharing with his brother.
It had worked by some insane miracle of sheer dumb luck Gabe’s scheming had somehow done it. Dean was still in denial but not about Cas and he looked happy, lighter somehow, like the clouds had parted for him and he could remember the sun after nothing but inescapable rain.
Sam was grateful. He finally knew peace. Dean no longer dragged him out every night to the restaurant and now that Dean and Cas were officially dating Sam had been mostly spared from third wheeling them.
He found himself there sometimes but he could live with the occasional visit. The seasons changed and with the leaves coating the ground came a new menu. The new Fall/Winter menu meant new specials and Sam wasn’t sure how Dean would react to his dish being gone. The restaurant was shut for the night, the launch reserved for friends and family only.
The actual real Jimmy showed them to their seats, a small miracle he had actually shown up for work. They opened their menus and there tucked down the bottom ‘The Winchester Surprise’ Sam couldn’t believe someone could care about Dean as much as him and Bobby but in that moment he knew he needed to add one more name to that list.
If Dean stays behind at the restaurant to spend time with Cas as he packs up. Sam doesn’t say anything.
If six months later the menu changes once more but the Winchester special remains. Sam doesn’t say anything.
If after that Dean has one more ring in his collection that he wears around his neck. Sam doesn’t say anything.
Sam is tired and it’s late when it finally hits him. Most of the guests have left by now and it’s just him, Gabe and the newlyweds sitting relaxing after what had been a long day trying to mentally prepare for the cleanup in the morning. Putting down his beer he leaned towards Dean, “Well you did say you were going to marry the chef.”
Dean’s gaze moves back to Cas where it had been fixed for most of the night. A small laugh escaping him, disbelieving, “Yeah. I did.”