AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for soot, who wanted Sam finding out through Chuck, about Dean and Castiel's relationship. This deviated a little from the original prompt (sorry) as I couldn't hammer out the idea of the mug, until the end. (you'll see). Plus I had a hard time writing Chuck's "voice" - not very good with Chuck!


Sam waited in Chuck's living room, long legs stretched before him in a relaxed position, wondered briefly just when Dean was coming back from getting the pizza. His eyes kept returning to the manuscript left haphazardly on the Prophet's coffee table, curious at to what was in the document, what was in store for them in the near future. He heard Chuck busying himself in the kitchen, rattling the plates, cutlery, pouring drinks haphazardly into freshly washed in a hurry glasses. Sam's eyes flickered up, made sure the small prophet wasn't about to come wandering in without due notice, hesitated when he heard curses and a smashing plate ringing out against the kitchen floor.

"Huh, didn't see that one coming, Prophet," Sam snorted to himself, even as he smiled triumphantly.

The smashing plate foretold great things for Sam; at least he would have enough time to read the manuscript, or skim through it, dependant on how much time he had. He shook his head over the thought of the Prophet still writing, but he guessed that at least he wasn't publishing them. He knew that if he did, he'd be forced to shoot him, as would Dean, even though he didn't particularly relish the idea of the Chuck's archangel bearing down on his ass for wasting the Prophet.

He flicked through pages, long fingers riffling through the white paper, stopping at a random place randomly. His eyes skimmed over the dark type without much interest at first, before the text finally dragged him in, and he became unable to tear his gaze or his interest away from the pages held within bloodless hands. He started reading aloud, eyes growing wider, expression going blank with shock, with disbelief, heart going numb and icy in his chest.

"Dean's hands trailed over Castiel's chest, lips locked tight against the angel's soft lips, murmurs of pleasure breaking the air between them. The hunter stroked his fingers across one outstretched wing, travelling ever downwards across naked angelic skin, making Castiel shudder and moan beneath his own, equally naked body."

He read still further, eyes growing wider and wider still as he read Chuck's description of just how far Dean and Castiel had gone. By the way that Chuck had written it, it seemed as though it was an established relationship, that they'd been sleeping together for quite some time and were happy, in love even. He groaned, unable to tear his gaze from the pages, continued reading, breath catching in his throat when he saw what Castiel was doing with the chocolate sauce.

He stopped reading, breath harsh in his throat, hands now shaking against his knees as he relaxed back onto Chuck's threadbare sofa, a great exhalation of air sounding noisily in the otherwise silent living room. His mind was reeling, unable to process the thoughts racing wonkily through his brain, tearing everything he knew to shreds, leaving his life in pieces on the floor. He hadn't known. All this time and he hadn't known ...

"Everything okay?" Chuck asked, cheerily as he breezed into the room, looking at least a little more presentable than usual in jeans and a baggy t shirt.

His hair still looked mussed, finger brushed within an inch of its life, eyes shadowed with lack of sleep and drink. His bright smile faded at Sam's stunned, lifeless expression, large, sleepy eyes blinking hugely at the younger Winchester in sudden confusion.

"Sam? You okay?" Chuck asked again, standing in front of the hunter, waving one skinny hand in front of Sam's face to try and attract his otherwise diverted attention.

"What?" Sam asked, shaking himself visibly back into reality once more, skin turning a little pale with shock.

"I asked if you're okay. You look queasy," Chuck asked, setting his butt down on the coffee table to stare at Sam in a level fashion.

His gaze was held by the manuscript still left open on Sam's lap, dark type standing starkly against the white background in glaring lines. Chuck groaned, thinking over all that the manuscript held, slender fingers covering his tired eyes wearily.

"You read it, didn't you?" he asked, not bothering to clarify which part he meant.

"If you meant by "it," the part with Dean and Castiel sleeping together, then yeah, I read it," Sam said, voice harsh, though distant, as though coming with a struggle and an effort.

"You didn't know?" Chuck asked, the tone of his voice indicating that he expected the answer Sam would give.

"What the hell do you think, Chuck? Course I didn't know. All those nights that Dean said he was slipping out for some fresh air, he was out sleeping with that angel," the young hunter said, looking almost ready to burst into tears at any given moment. "Dean's supposed to be his charge, not his - "

Chuck blinked at him, frowned, then shrugged at Sam expansively.

"If you mean his lover, then just say it. There's nothing wrong with that, Sam," Chuck told him gently. "Why d'you think he left so many women in his wake? He just hadn't found what he was looking for. Castiel is what he's looking for. It's Castiel that makes him happy."

"And you're okay with this?" the hunter asked, looking ready to punch Chuck, or at least shake him vigorously.

"It's not my life, Sam. I'm only observing it in flashes and writing about it," Chuck replied, gently. "And yeah, in answer to your question, I'm fine with it. Everyone deserves love in their life no matter who they find it with."

"Spoken like a true Prophet," Sam said, scornfully, snorting through his nose, as he flung the manuscript heavily beside the Prophet.

Chuck threw his hands into the air, looking as though he was visibly withdrawing and giving up on the conversation with Sam, looking everywhere but at Sam himself.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Sam asked next, drawing Chuck's attention back to himself once again.

"Why do you think he didn't? Look at how you're acting! You're not the poster boy for free love and everything, right now," Chuck pointed out, getting to his feet and peering out of the window at the street outside.

"Says you," Sam said, with a scowl, arms crossed over his chest, face narrowing down into his usual bitch face.

"He's back," Chuck announced, ignoring Sam's childish behavior in favor of observing Dean walking up the garden path, whistling merrily. "Better shape up, Sam, and pretty quickly too, if I were you."

Sam just snorted through his nose at the Prophet, but remained silent, distant, when his brother came in. It didn't take long for Dean to notice his brother's off-handed behavior and opened his mouth to ask Sam why. Chuck cleared his throat, shook his head when he'd caught Dean's attention, before he pulled the bigger man from the room into the kitchen.

"He knows," Chuck said, closing the door behind him gently and cutting Sam off in the living room.

"Come again?" Dean asked, peering with confusion at the Prophet leaning against the door as though securing it against Sam invasions.

"What you're doing with Cas. He knows," Chuck replied, quietly.

"Oh, Jesus, Chuck, why the hell did you tell him that for?" Dean asked, looking all too ready to punch the Prophet himself.

"Hey, don't punch me, I'm only a Prophet! I can't help seeing things sometimes," Chuck said, defensively, throwing his hands up as though warding his body from impending attack. "I wrote about it, okay?"

"You wrote about it? And Sam saw it? Oh, that's just great, dude," Dean shouted, turning away angrily from the Prophet, who remained where he was, looking helpless and small against the doorway.

"I'm sorry," Chuck offered, quickly, cringing a little as though uncertain of attack still. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Dean kicked out blindly, caught the table and sent papers and a plate crashing to the floor, with his customary shout of - "Son of a bitch!"

Chuck remained still, unmoving, blue eyes hooded, staring at the mess on the floor, bearded face drawn into taut lines of sorrow, tension, uncertainty.

"You're right, Chuck. This is not your fault. You only saw it and wrote about it," Dean said, unconsciously repeating Chuck's earlier words to Sam in a roundabout way.

"That's what I said," Chuck piped up, eyes flickering up to Dean's face for an all too brief instant.

"He should have heard it from me, not some story, manuscript, whatever," Dean said, pacing against the littered floor with agonized pounding of feet.

"The main thing is that he knows, Dean. All you can do now, is deal with it, somehow," Chuck advised, leaning his ear against the door as though listening to t he movement on the other side.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Dean asked Chuck, sharply. "I mean, does he ever calm down?"

Chuck turned tired eyes onto the taller man, before he nodded quickly.

"Next week. He'll be fine next week. On Wednesday, actually. 12 pm," he said, with his first smile of the day since Sam had first read the manuscript.

"Is that so? Thanks, Chuck," Dean replied, actually smiling back at the Prophet gratefully. "That actually is some help. Only five days to suffer. I've been through worse, but you knew that already, didn't you?"

Chuck didn't reply, just shouted to Sam though the crack in the door.

"We're coming back in. Sam. Just don't hurt anyone," he said, eliciting a chuckle from Dean.

"Dude, you're awesome, you know that?" he murmured on his way past the Prophet.

Chuck merely smiled at Dean, but didn't reply. He watched from the sidelines, fingers pinching his lips as he watched Sam and Dean arguing in his own living room, pizza long forgotten and growing cold on the side table, filling the air with the fragrant scent of cheese, tomato and pepperoni. He absently took a slice and started to eat, yet still Sam and Dean argued.

Dean was defending his right to have a relationship with Castiel, was saying that Sam wasn't his owner, never had been, while Sam shot back that the least Dean could have done was told him first hand.

"That wouldn't have changed anything, Sammy. You still would have been mad. Why can't you just be happy for once, for me, your own brother? Like you've been all sweetness and light and honest about what you got up to with Ruby," Dean yelled back, cutting the air with one out stretched hand at his brother.

Sam went still at that, unmoving, back rigid and expression cold.

"That was uncalled for, Dean," he said, voice as expressionless as his face right then.

"I'm right though, aren't I, Sam? You know that I'm right. At least I'm not sucking back blood," Dean threw at him.

"You're sucking back something else," Sam retorted, with a disgusted frown.

Chuck ducked involuntarily, mere moments before Dean punched Sam hard in the face.

"Alright, guys, that's enough! Sam, that wasn't necessary. If you wanna fight, you gotta take it outside," Chuck immediately said, not looking forward to perhaps cleaning up the mess if they broke everything.

His words seemed to quieten the fighting brothers down, seemed to stop the argument in its tracks, but there still remained that unsettled atmosphere between them, the words left unspoken and glances avoided. Chuck tried to remain cheerful, tried to think of funny things to say, finally shut up when nothing seemed to work or to lighten the atmosphere. They ate in silence then, the pizza now gone long since cold, yet no less edible and delicious.


"Where's Sam?" Castiel asked later that day, glancing around the room and coming up short on the Sam front.

"Gone out. Cas, dude, he knows. About us," Dean said, looking up at the angel from where he sat, cleaning his gun methodically, in an attempt to keep his hands and his mind busy.

Castiel blinked, tilted his head to the side and waited. Dean sighed, then told the angel the whole sorry story of how they'd gone to Chuck's to find out more information about how they could kill Lucifer, how Dean had left to get the pizza in after growing weary of Chuck's house and needing the fresh air, of coming back to find Sam had read all about their relationship in one of Chuck's many manuscripts. Castiel remained attentive, expressionless throughout the recounting of the afternoon, eyes drifting closed on more than one occasion as markers to his mounting frustration.

"I guess we have to wait a week, won't we? If that's the time frame Chuck has given us," Castiel said, in his gruff voice, sitting by Dean's side and stroking the hunter's knee affectionately.

"I guess," Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

He sighed again, before smiling gently at Castiel, when the angel laid a hand of concern on his shoulder. Castiel smiled back sympathetically, sliding his arm around the hunter's shoulders and pulling him into a hug, held him when Dean wrapped his arms around the angel's slim waist. He kissed the top of the hunter's head, hair tickling against his nose and making him snuffle against the tickle. Dean looked up, smiled, laid a gentle kiss against Castiel's soft, sweet mouth, deepening the kiss when the angel made encouraging noises deep within his throat.

They were still kissing when Sam returned, who retained his stony silence, banging around the motel room, throwing a few scowls their way before banging out of the room again.

"Okay, awkward," Dean siad, after a moment's stunned silence.

"We have five days, Dean," Castiel reminded him patiently.

Dean could only smile at his lover, as he wondered just how he was supposed to put up with his brother's moodiness until then.


Sam took to leaving Castiel and Dean alone for longer periods of time, fully aware of all that they no doubt were getting up to, yet he didn't care. He'd been thinking over all that Chuck had said, had observed his brother with his lover when he thought they weren't looking. He could see the genuine affection, the tenderness they had for one another, had never seen his brother act so crazy about anyone else before. Even Sam had to concede to that fact.

He spent a lot of time alone, thinking, wondering, slowly coming around to the idea that of Castiel truly made Dean happy, then he should be happy for them. Castiel was an angel, and not all angels were dicks. Castiel had proved that. He was the most human, the least likely to be a dick out of all them. Hell, he was a lot better than half the humans Sam had met in his lifetime so far.

Slowly, slowly, the thought made him smile, started to grow on him and he became used to the idea that his brother's boyfriend was an angel. He decided that there was something he could do about that after all ....


Dean felt Castiel's tongue lapping in gentle stripes against his skin, licking the chocolate sauce in hot stripes from hunter's skin, until Dean was clean. The hunter moaned, writhed beneath the angel's attentions, eyes closed to gather every last emotion he could from the experience. When his eyes were closed, the sensations were magnified, more intense, and his breath caught in his throat at the feel of the angel's breath blasting hot against the wet lick marks on his abdomen.

His lips pushed out in a mewl of want, whining purls of need trapped deep in his throat when he felt the cold chocolate sauce drizzled on his cock in ling stripes. He shuddered against the feel of Castiel's mouth wrapping wet and warm around his erection, sucking him back into his mouth and licking him clean of chocolate. Dean's fingers laced through Castiel's hair, started fucking into the angel's mouth, grunts of lust working loose from his lips, mingled with desperate pants of breath, mewls of want mingled and laced through everything.

He opened his eyes, looked down and cried out at the sight of Castiel's dark haired head bobbing between the hunter's legs, lips stretched wide around the hunter's dick as he sucked him off expertly. Dean cried out for Castiel, felt his orgasm pooling in his abdomen, burst through his body in raging streaks until he flooded Castiel's mouth with hot spurts of his release. He yelled out for Castiel, hips stuttering as the angel eased his mouth away from Dean's already softening member, eyes half closed and sleepy looking with shared pleasure. He crawled up the bed, curled around Dean's body and waited for Dean to recover, patiently.

Dean panted, watched Castiel as the angel's eyes were downcast, cheeks flushed and healthy looking, lips swollen and parted, making the angel look more fragile than he really was. The hunter cupped Castiel's cheek with one sweating palm, smiled when the angel cast his glance up at Dean's face, eyes wide, deceptively innocent, beautiful in languid arousal. Dean stole a kiss from the angel's soft sweet mouth, tongue lingering on Castiel's plump lips before he pressed inside, tangling up with Castiel's own tongue in sinuous patterns.

He heard the sounds of Castiel's wings rippling through the air, cutting the silence with feathered unfurling swoops. Dean's hands trailed over Castiel's chest, lips locked tight against the angel's soft lips, murmurs of pleasure breaking the air between them. The hunter stroked his fingers across one outstretched wing, travelling ever downwards across naked angelic skin, making Castiel shudder and moan beneath his own, equally naked body.

Castiel's dick was hard when Dean wrapped his fingers around it, and the angel broke away, eyes wide, breath wheezing in his throat as the hunter started jerking him off, pulling away after a few gentle pulls. Castiel cursed at him in Enochian, dark brows pulled down over stormy blue eyes as Dean reached for the lube. The angel's frown only disappeared when Dean had prepared himself for Castiel, fingers easing his hole wide open with slick fingers, aroused moans dropping from Dean's full lips as he worked himself loose.

Castiel smiled, lips curling joyfully as Dean straddled him and the angel gripped Dean's hips tight between slender fingers. The hunter stroked lube over Castiel's cock swiftly, made his lover groan, grumble with need, before he positioned himself over his cock and pressed downwards. He stopped when his body resisted against the intrusion, pained gasps whistling in his lungs until the pain turned into pleasure and he pressed down still further, until he'd taken all of Castiel's dick inside him.

Castiel's pupils were blown wide with desire, ripe mouth open and gasping as Dean started to move against him, rolling his hips against Castiel's until the angel started to thrust hard inside his lover, eager moans breaking the air and mingling. Their bodies seemed to shimmer in the light, sweat soaked skin catching the light from outside as they rutted and fucked against each other, gasps growing into full blown cries of arousal as they each eased towards climax.

Castiel's back arched from the mattress, hands scrabbling uselessly at Dean's body as he came, released his seed into Dean, filling him up as the angel sobbed Dean's name in wondrous release. Dean rutted harder against Castiel's body, needed more of the angel's dick inside him, as he stroked his cock in time with his thrusts. It didn't take the hunter long to climax, coming in thick strands across his lover's abdomen and chest, filling his hand with his own release as he shouted Castiel's name to the ceiling.

He eased himself away from the angel's body, before he laid down beside him, arms, legs tangled, skin sweaty, chests rising and falling in gasping pleasure as they stared at one another, tenderness held deep within their gazes. Castiel smiled, stroked lightly against Dean's arm until his lover slowly dropped into weary sleep beside him .....


Castiel looked up when Sam came in, an amused smirk settled on the younger hunter's face, as he slipped through the door as quietly as he could. Sam stopped when he saw the sleeping form of his brother cradled in Castiel's arms, sheets wrapped securely around their obviously naked waists. Castiel raised his finger to his lips, in a shushing motion, trying to get Sam to remain quiet.

Sam nodded, crept past, as he gave Castiel the friendliest smile he'd ever given him, particularly in the last week. He came back when Dean began to stir, eyelashes fluttering wearily open as he yawned suddenly, loudly into the otherwise silent room. The hunter looked up at Castiel, didn't even notice that Sam had even arrived yet, and planted a sloppy kiss onto the angel's soft mouth. Castiel kissed him back automatically, cupping Dean's face with his slender hand tenderly, eyes fluttering closed Dean tried to deepen the kiss, hand snaking down towards Castiel's cock.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, made Dean jerk back from Castiel guiltily, hastily withdrawing his hand from the angel's dick, before turning to face his brother, with a blush and an awkward cough.

"Hey, Sammy. You alright?" Dean asked, as Castiel chuckled beside him, deep rumbles of amusement trickling through his chest and throat.

"Yeah. Stupid question to ask if you are," Sam replied, with a smile at Castiel over Dean's head.

The angel's eyes half closed in pleasure as he turned his ethereal smile onto Sam, who couldn't help but answer to Castiel's grin.

"We good, Sam?" Dean asked, warily, eyeing up his brother uncertainly, one arm wrapped possessively around his lover's waist.

"Come again?" Sam asked, clearing his throat and shuffling with embarrassment, aiming for not knowing what Dean meant.

"You know what I mean," Dean said, laying one hand on Castiel's chest pointedly.

"Yeah, we're good. I've been doing some thinking. Chuck was right. Castiel is who makes you happy, and I'm okay with that, I guess," Sam said, looking more uncomfortable with every passing second.

"Good," Castiel said, over Dean's head, as he laid a kiss on the hunter's head possessively. "Because things were getting awkward and would have been worse the longer it dragged on for."

Sam looked down at the floor, nodded in reluctant agreement. He cleared his throat, shuffled his feet, poked at a loose piece of carpet with the toe of one well worn boot, before looking up again from beneath his eyebrows at Dean, at Castiel, at how comfortable they were with each other.

"I'm sorry," he said, simply, uncertain as to how to put everything he'd put them through into simple words.

"Fine,. Just don't turn this into a chick flick moment, okay? What day is it?" Dean asked, suddenly, surprising Sam with his sudden shift of conversation.

"Wednesday. Why?" Sam replied, sounding as confused, as alarmed as he looked right then.

He watched as Castiel and Dean exchanged a knowing look, before they nodded at one another.

"Chuck was right," Castiel murmured, blue eyes glancing up at Sam, a look of astonishment trapped deep within his intense gaze.

Sam looked at him in confusion, unconsciously mimicking Castiel's head tilt of intense confusion and scrutiny, before Dean put him out of his misery, and told him of Chuck's prophecy, of when Sam would forgive them. Sam's face cleared but he said nothing, distracted suddenly by Castiel's next question.

"What have you got behind your back, Sam?" he asked, staring at the younger Winchester's midsection, as though trying to bore holes in Dean's brother's abdomen, in an attempt to see what Sam was hiding.

Sam coughed uncomfortably, drew two matching white mugs from behind his back, before placing it on Dean's sheet covered lap.

"They're for you," he said simply, as Dean picked up one of the mugs and looked at it closely.

The older hunter smiled, amused grin pulling the corners of his mouth up as he read the fancy inscription marked onto the mug's surface, taking in the love heart decoration surrounding the words - "Dean/Castiel." Castiel picked up his own mug and gave a rare, throaty laugh at the words, and Sam was already smiling when they both looked up to face him.

"You like them?" Sam asked, hopefully, looking as perky as a puppy at that moment.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said, not making it clear as to whether he meant the mugs or the acceptance placed behind the gift.

Sam shrugged, then said - "I'm glad, you know? That you're happy, I mean."

"Good," Dean said. "Now look away, I wanna get up and take a shower. I don't want you seeing anything you shouldn't."

Castiel chuckled, watched as Sam looked away, dutifully and Dean walked past his brother, to head into the shower. Dean shot a meaningful look at Castiel, and the angel nodded back, slowly, understanding the message that Dean had sent his way - to join him when the coast was clear. Sam seemed to pick up on the tension in the room, and he rolled his eyes, pouted hugely with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Alright, I'm going. I need some food anyway. Anyone want anything?" he sighed, thinking that he no doubt would have a lot of food fetching over the weeks to come.

Surprisingly he wasn't too worried about that, accepted that fact easier than he had Dean's relationship with Castiel at first, and the haunting remains of his amused, affectionate chuckles were left behind as he closed the door behind himself, leaving Castiel alone with Dean once more.

Once Castiel knew that Sam was safely gone and wasn't about to return, he padded quietly into the bathroom, was met with the sight of Dean already in the shower, lathering soap over his wet, shining body. Dean grinned at his angel, watched as Castiel walked into the shower with him, accepted Castiel in close as he leant in to steal a warm kiss beneath the rushing water.

Dean murmured his approval at the contact, was met with a pleasured purr from Castiel when Dean's hands travelled down the angel's body, palms splayed across Castiel's ass and drawing him closer still. Castiel shuddered beneath the weight of Dean's kisses, intense, heady feel of lips parting and meeting beneath the play of water rushing down upon them, making them both wet, hair plastered in strands against their heads.

Dean shuddered against Castiel, broke the kiss to groan loudly into the otherwise silent room when Castiel wrapped urgent fingers around Dean's cock, already stiff and curling towards the hunter's abdomen. Dean jerked his hips forward, tried for friction with begging purls of need breaking from his mouth as he fucked into the circle of Castiel's hand. Castiel's grip was firm, insistent, wrist snapping against engorged flesh as Dean laid helplessly back against the tiled wall behind him.

Dean cried out, covered his eyes with his hand to stop the water running into them, mouth wide, straining as he screamed for Castiel upon release, come filling the angel's hand and spurting over his thigh in strands. The angel pulled his hand away, let the water from the ever streaming shower wash the mess away, watched as Dean crouched before him in the enclosed space.

Castiel smiled, laced his fingers through Dean's hair as the hunter took Castiel's cock into his mouth, lips playing over the erect surface tenderly, using teeth and tongue against super heated flesh to draw husky, pleasured groans from Castiel's throat. He smiled around his angel's erection, started bobbing his head insistently between Castiel's legs, revelling in the delicious sounds of Castiel's aroused cries above him.

Castiel moved his hips in time with Dean's bobbing head, fucking his dick into his hunter's open, wet mouth, felt arousal sink its sharp claws into his abdomen and take over, setting his body alight in growing flames. He didn't try to fight his climax, just went with it, flooded Dean's mouth with his come as he screamed for his lover, head thrown back and resting against the wall behind him.

He was barely aware of Dean standing, straightening before him, to lean in and nibble along Castiel's exposed jaw line, tongue lapping at stubbled cheeks gently. Castiel's hands pawed uselessly at Dean's body, drew him in closer still as the water continued to pound down upon them, bathing them clean of their sins but not their love.

Castiel smiled, happiness flooding through his being as Dean reached his mouth, pressed his firm lips against Castiel's soft ones, tongue slipping into Castiel's mouth when the angel opened willingly up for him. He deepened the kiss, thinking that if he was what made Dean happy, then he knew t hat Dean made him happy in return ....

-fini-