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There's the staring again. Sam noted.

Sam sat awkwardly, watching as Dean and Castiel simply stared at each other. Sam squirmed in front of the computer, momentarily braking their gaze.

Sam also noticed their night habit. Dean would stay up with Cas sometimes, Sam knew, but the times he slept in Cas's presence, he woke up with extra vigour. Ready for the best day. Especially when a certain angel was at his side.

Sam was used to this by now. Or semi used to this. He noticed the lingering gazes, subtle touches, how each of them seemed at peace only when the other was around. Like each had their own separate weight of the world on their shoulders, and it was lifted in each others comforting presence.

Sam hated these moments.

He hated that when he was in the room at these moments, it was like walking in on sex but not being noticed. It was too intimate to just be standing in the background. He hated more when he interrupted these moments, to see the tenderness being abruptly closed off, not to be seen by any other than each other.

He hated he couldn't talk to Dean about these moments.

When he'd mention them, Dean would nervously laugh or denie with a yell. He hated that he couldn't see the soft side of Dean that was open to Castiel, whether Dean knew it or not.

He knew in his heart he couldn't see the soft side of Dean like Castiel forever would. He knew in order for that soft side of Dean to surface, he'd forever need Castiel. So Sam never asked, Sam never questioned what went on between the two.

No... he'd pretend.

He'd ignore.

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