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A Dean/Castiel fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Supernatural. I'm not that awesome.

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A/N: Alright, this was number 25 on my list of Dean/Cas fics to write. I just can't get enough of this pairing.

I'm happy my regular readers have enjoyed my Dean/Cas fics thus far, and for those Sammy lovers, this one should appease you ... as much as he's not my favorite character, this story is pretty much all from his point of view.

Well, let's get on with it, shall we?

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

Sometimes it was as though he wasn't even in the room. They would just stand there staring - no, gazing - at each other for minutes upon minutes, neither letting up. Sam often wondered if Castiel could project his thoughts into Dean's mind ... he was fairly certain that Castiel could read minds, and with all the long looks that they shared, he had to wonder if they were having their own internal conversations.

Otherwise ... they were just staring at each other. A lot.

Not that he would mind if something were to ... happen. He wasn't a homophobe ... if Castiel made his brother happy, then he would be all for it. But he just wished they would do something about it already. Not only was it annoying that they just stared into each other's eyes all the time, but there were the times when he had to clear his throat, or remind them that they had to get a move on. It was time-consuming, really.

He wondered if he should just broach the subject with them, see how they reacted. He was sure Dean would be a smartass about it, but he didn't think the angel would lie about his feelings.

He had started getting a separate room when Castiel was with them. His brother had thrown him suspicious glances whenever he requested a second room, but he hadn't said anything yet. Sam was starting to wonder if he ever would. He had no idea what the two of them did in the room by themselves. It was entirely possible that by giving them some alone time, he had given them the push they'd needed to make something of those long looks ... but he had no way of knowing. Dean wasn't talking, and he didn't wanna walk up to the angel and say, "so, you been getting lucky lately?"

So, he started watching them more carefully, trying to determine if anything had changed. Dean was still in a sour mood most of the time, when he wasn't cracking dirty jokes or salivating over pie, and Castiel still maintained his gruff persona. It was a couple weeks before he picked up on some subtle differences.

Castiel had been with them more consistently, having decided that since god wasn't going to help them, and he had nothing to be off searching for, that he could at least make himself useful by helping them on their hunts.

Sam had his own room to himself so often, it was actually nice. But it didn't distract him from his mission.

The first time he noticed something different was when Dean was gorging himself on a cherry pie at a diner near the motel they were staying at, and a piece of fruit attached itself to his chin. Castiel's hand rose from where it rested on the table, moved forward a few inches before he stopped himself. Looking from Dean to Sam quickly, Castiel placed his hand back on the table. Sam watched nonchalantly as Dean lowered his eyes and wiped the fruit off his chin, clearing his throat and strumming his fingers on the table.

They finished their meal in silence.

The next change he noticed was that Castiel started sitting in the front seat of the Impala. Now, he didn't really mind getting shafted to the backseat, but a little warning would have been nice. It had suddenly become unspoken rule - unspoken being the operative word - that whenever Castiel was with him, he had shotgun.

Sam started to become a little more worried after this started happening, because when the two of them got to their staring contests again, he was the only one watching the road. If this keeps up, I'm gonna get an ulcer.

It was another two weeks before Sam noticed something a little more noteworthy. They were on a hunt, chasing down a shape shifter. The bastard had once again chosen to shift into Dean, and when the thing attacked, it latched itself onto Castiel, pulling him in for a hungry, wet kiss. Castiel shoved him off barely a second later, giving Dean an opening to pump him full of silver. The hunter emptied a clip into the thing, pulling the trigger a few times after it had stopped releasing bullets from the gun.

Sam stood up from where he'd been knocked down, wiping grime from the sewer off himself while he stared at his brother. He watched Dean move over to Castiel, grip his shoulder and ask him, "You okay?"

Castiel nodded, wiping his mouth in disgust. He glanced at Dean almost apologetically, but Dean shook his head, whispering, "It's okay. I'll fix it later."

Sam wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he still didn't have hardcore proof, so he left the sewers with them in silence and returned to his own motel room, watching them walk into theirs.

He was beginning to think that he would never be able to just come out and tell that he knew they were in a relationship - or at least suspected they were - but the very next night he got all the proof he needed.

He had been falling asleep in the backseat of the Impala, Castiel and Dean in the front. The sky around them was dark, but due to a nosy housekeeper they'd had to leave the motel in a hurry. They had decided to make their way to Bobby's and see if he'd heard anything new, or had found something new for them to work on. His eyes were closed, his head propped against the window with his jacket under his head and his body stretched out across the back seat. It was cramped, but it was all he had, and he was tired.

Just when he'd begun to drift off, he heard Dean speak in a hushed voice, "Cas, Sam is right in the back seat."

In a more husky voice than Sam would have ever given him credit for, Castiel replied, "So?"

"So, he could wake up!" Dean shot back in a tight whisper.

They definitely had Sam's attention now, but he worked hard to make it look as though he were asleep.

"Therein lies the excitement, does it not?" Castiel purred.

A moment passed, and Sam heard quite distinctly the sounds of a zipper being undone. At that moment he wished that he could simply melt into nothingness. He wished he were anywhere else but in that car, he wished he had the guts to announce his conscious presence, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He laid in the backseat in mute horror as he listened to the angel ... servicing his brother. When it was all finished, and he couldn't hear anymore questionable sounds he began to "stir", making it seem like he was waking up. He wanted to forestall any more activities the two of them had planned for the rest of the evening.

When he slowly sat up in his seat Dean and Castiel were sitting naturally in their seats, acting as though nothing had happened.

Well, it gives whole new meaning to "hardcore proof", Sam thought while the darkness flew by around them.

They drove all night to get to Bobby's and when they finally arrived at their destination Sam had decided against informing them that he knew about their relationship.

When all was said and done, they had clearly wanted to keep it to themselves, and despite how traumatizing it had been for him to hear their interactions, he could see that they made each other happy.

When they were ready to tell him, they would. And until then ... he would just have to suffer through his awkwardness every time they stared longingly at each other.

The End.

So, what did you think?

I hope you guys liked it, I know I loved writing it!

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!