He was so tired. Maybe he should have postponed his research on the magical use of dragon scales and not tried to cram all into his head so late. Now it was early morning and he hadn't even seen his bed this night. It was such a fascinating subject though and the appliance of magic could very well save their life some day in the future. It was not useless like Dean claimed.

Their grandfather had managed to travel through time, who knows what kind of spells were still hidden somewhere in the library of the Men of Letters, just waiting for Sam to find them. Anyway, as it so happened, he had fallen asleep in the armchair and had a horrible crick in his neck thanks to that. He thought maybe some coffee would help with the pain and trudged to the kitchen.

Shortly before arriving at his destination he stopped abruptly and stilled, body tense. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen and for a moment paranoia got the upper hand and he ran through every possible intruder scenario, checking the knives in his boots and slowly, silently prowled closer. But as swiftly as the paranoia came, it left, because he could clearly recognize the sound as Dean's voice. Great, now he felt silly. He was sneaking around his own home at what was barely dawn and almost attacked his brother. Well, at least he hadn't actually attacked Dean. Small victories, he supposed.

When he entered the kitchen, his eyes settled right away on Dean, watching how he dried the dishes from the previous evening, humming slightly to himself. He observed how his hips swayed gently to the imagined beat, noticed how loose-limbed and relaxed he appeared and considering all these factors it was pretty easy to draw the right conclusions.

"Oh my god," he exclaimed in shock.

Dean almost dropped the plate in his hand. Actually, Sam could swear he jumped even a little bit. "What?" Dean asked gruffly, turning to Sam. "No 'Good Morning' for me, Sammy?"

"This is horrible," Sam added as he studied Dean intently.

"What is?" he asked obviously pissed and fidgeting.

"You," was Sam's rather simple answer. "You, standing there… being all smirky and relaxed…"

"Well, I'm just making breakfast," Dean said with irritation. "And you were supposed to get some, you ungrateful bastard."

"Well, thanks," mumbled Sam, still staring at his big brother in slight disbelief. Then he stopped it and sat down at the table fidgeting with an old newspaper. It was the one from yesterday, which was surprising, really, because usually none of them read the paper version of the newspaper. It was much easier to look up the news online.

So naturally Sam asked, "Hey, why do we have this?"

"Oh, yeah, Cas brought it with him, when he came over yesterday. Coffee?" Dean asked, looking expectantly at Sam with the coffeepot in hand.

"Uh, yes, please!" Sam said and smiled in thanks when his brother handed him his favorite mug filled with steaming hot coffee. God, there was nothing like fresh coffee in the morning. He greedily inhaled the flavor and gratefully took his first sip. Yes, strong, but with enough sugar to detract from its natural bitterness. Perfect. Just from that he felt drastically more awake and ready to start the day. "You really make the best coffee, Dean," he acknowledged.

"Don't I know it," answered Dean with a grin. "That's from dating a barista in high school. Liddy always did amazing things with coffee. Remember the trick with the coffee beans? Oh and Jackie? Her mother always bought the best coffee beans. Expensive as hell, of course, but the taste was so good." Dean nearly moaned in remembrance.

"Sure," Sam mumbled, abruptly uncomfortable with this talk about exes and their incredible coffee skills.

"I guess we kinda have to teach Cas how to make decent coffee. Ever since his time as a human, he can't get enough of the taste," he mused, leaning on the counter, while he sipped at his own coffee.

At the mention of Cas, Sam couldn't suppress his reaction and slight startle. And of course Dean would observe it, hunter that he was.

"Okay, what's up with you?" Dean asked in apparent exasperation. "You've been jumpy since the moment you entered the kitchen!"

"Nothing! I… well, it's alright of course. I… it's … just can't stop picturing it," he finally got out without choking on his own spit. Because he literally could not stop picturing it. It was like seared beneath his eye lids.

"Sam seriously, what are you talking about?"

And fuck, he was going to have to say it. Calm, just be calm about it. It was no big deal, just his brother and their angel, no big deal.

"You got laid last night, Dean. Don't try to hide it, I've known you almost all your life. I can tell, alright?" he responded, trying to remain calm and supportive. "And since I happen to know that you're together with…"

From one second to the next Dean's face had changed from red to white and back. He stammered ,"How can you… tell?"

"Oh, I don't know, I've just known you, for how many years, exactly?"

"…Point." Dean paused, letting the silence stretch between them. "This about Cas? You never said anything before?"

He was a terrible brother. No other words to say it. Of course Dean was playing up the macho vibe, as always, but he could read genuine uncertainty beneath that and Sam felt guilty for making Dean feel that way. He had to clear this up or god knows what kind of mess his brother would maneuver them into.

"No, 'course not! Cas is great, he's my best friend! And honestly, I'm so glad you got your shit together and made a move, Dean. I'm truly happy for you. Both of you." And thank god, this was exactly what he wanted to say and hopefully what Dean needed to hear.

After a bout of silence, Dean answered with that kind of exaggerated 'Okaaaay' that normally would drive him nuts, because it was so much like Dean to overcompensate in any conversation involving feelings.

So obviously he couldn't stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth.

"I just didn't expect it to be so weird, I guess."

"Oh." And fuck it, he could practically see Dean freaking out.

"It's not bad, I promise! Just getting used to it may take a while." Ah, like that sounded any better.

"Yeah, ok." And great, now Dean was all stoic and shut off and for once it was not Dean being a jerk, but really all Sam's fault.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably.

"It's alright." But it obviously wasn't.

"It's not Cas. I LIKE Cas," he said honestly, because he did. Cas was amazing, and if anyone could ever put up with his brother for the long haul it would be Cas.

"I told you, it's alright Sammy." That was even worse, because he could tell that Dean 'meant' it. Although he was hurt by it, he would always accept his brother's opinion. Dean was never a person of great declarations; he had to 'show' him that them being together was alright with him. There was nothing for it, he had to ask.

"…so, you gonna tell me how it was?" Sam winced.

"Gods, no!" And wow, that was a first. Dean sounded appalled and even blushed. "Why would we even talk about this?" his brother complained flustered, while furiously preparing their breakfast. "You want eggs?"

Sam just blinked in disbelief, because seriously? What the hell! "Because we always do, Dean! You're practically the definition of TMI!"

"I'm not!" His brother denied sharply and all but threw the bacon in the pan.

"Uh, yes, you are! Dean, how many times have I seen you the next morning and you're always telling me exactly how much fun you had the night before! Then you keep bragging about it and make sleazy jokes throughout the day. That's your MO. And considering I'm always around you I'm pretty familiar with this routine."

"So what! Maybe I- overshare sometimes. Doesn't mean we have to talk now!" Dean grunted defensively.

"Oh, good."

"And let's not talk about this ever again, okay?" he asked, a slight smirk back on his face.

"Fine. But you are happy with Cas?"

Dean just sighed under his breath muttering something about 'chick-flick moments', then he looked straight in Sam's eyes and said despite his embarrassment, "Yeah. We're good."

And Sam responded with a smile. Yes, that was more like it. "That's… nice," he said, testing the word out. It did sound strange to his ears but also appropriate.

Dean shuffled around the kitchen once more and the lull in conversation was more because of the early hour than any left-over awkwardness. Within minutes Sam had his plate of breakfast before him with perfectly scrambled eggs and lovely crisp bacon.

"Thank you," he said and tucked in with enthusiasm. But he couldn't stop himself from teasing Dean just a little over his entanglement with Cas. "Sooo," he started, "what's it gonna be? DeanCas, CasDean or rather Destiel?"

As he thought, Dean's expression was priceless.

THE END

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AN:Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! Comments would be great! I loved the musical episode, btw. Couldn't resist the slight reference at the end.