"Damn it, Cas, I told you to keep an eye on the clock," Dean said, jumping up from the bed and frantically searching around for his boxers and jeans.
Cas, who had been sitting there sort of staring at Dean, because that's what he did when Dean slept, let out a small sigh. "You fell asleep mid-conversation, Dean," came the gruff response.
Dean rolled his eyes and pretended that he didn't feel guilty at all, though he had sort of purposefully fallen asleep mid-sentence because he just wasn't in the mood to have that talk. I mean, why was Castiel so insistent that Sammy know about them. What the hell was it Sam's business where Dean was sticking it, anyway.
"You're tense around your brother and I'm tired of you kicking me in the shins whenever I say something related to our current arrangement," Cas said in his deadpan voice while Dean found his jeans.
He still felt a bit sticky, he realized as he yanked them over his waist and fumbled with the zipper. Glancing at the clock, he realized they were already five minutes late to meet Sam, and the stupid restaurant Sam had insisted on going to—some hole in the wall that also served black bean burgers or whatever his hippy vegan ass was eating nowadays, was ten minutes away.
"Do we have to do this right now?" Dean snarled as he threw a t-shirt that didn't smell like complete and total sewage from the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. "I mean, Sammy's not even a hunter anymore, all cozy at home with the wife and kids."
"They have one child," Cas corrected, "and they're not married as Sam's wife insisted they wait until the homosexuals can perform the ritual."
"It's a figure of speech," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes at Cas's use of the phrase, 'the homosexuals'.
"I feel it's inappropriate to keep our current arrangement from your brother. It's time to tell him of your sexual orientation."
"I can't just blurt it out, okay?" Dean said. He found the keys, which had fallen under the bed during the moment Cas was literally ripping his jeans off, and he beckoned the angel along. "I mean, that's just… it's not how Sam and I work, okay? Now get your ass in the car."
With that Dean walked ahead of the angel and slid behind the wheel of the Impala, caressing the wheel much more tenderly than he ever caressed Cas, or anything for that matter. Cas was next to Dean without bothering with the door, which irritated Dean to no end, but he decide it just wasn't worth the fight right then.
"Well I do hope you realize your brother has no problems with what we're doing. In case you hadn't noticed, we do engage in homosexual activities many times a day, and seeing as they both care for the rights of them—"
"I said no," Dean interrupted.
"It's making you tense when you're around him and I dislike it," Cas said sullenly.
"I just… I need to come up with a way to tell Sam so it's not like, you know, so it doesn't seem like a big deal… because it's not. It's not a big deal, it's just something we do, and I mean, I don't know why he has to know anyway."
Cas sighed and put his hand on Dean's shoulder as though he were addressing a small child. "I didn't want it to come to this, but I'm afraid it has. I realize you dislike the way I handle myself with most of the humans, your brother in particular, but you've left me with no other choice. Tell him, or I will."
Dean's face flared red and he shrugged Cas's hand off. "Listen you son of a bitch, I don't care how much I like what we do, if you threaten me—" But then Dean was talking to empty car, and he punched the steering wheel. The truth was, he loved the angel, but he could be a real, major pain in the ass.
Pissed and hungry, Dean swung the Impala into the parking lot, taking up two spaces—like he gave a shit—and he saw Cas sitting on the bench in front of the doors. Screwing his face up into his most irritated glare, he approached the angel and crossed his arms. "Are you done with your little hissy fit?"
Cas said nothing, giving a slight nod, and led the way inside. "Sam's here," he said and pointed across the restaurant. Sam had chosen a spot by the window, of course, which faced the inside of the strip mall, and had left the seats facing the glass for Dean and Cas.
When Sam looked up, a fresh wave of happy, though Dean would never admit that aloud, rushed through him and he had to take care not to walk too fast, or seem too eager to see his little brother who had been retired from their hunting days for three years now.
Sam stood up and smiled, his dimples practically lighting up the room, making Dean a little pissed because from time to time being pretty could really help out his situation, too. But he couldn't be too mad, or jealous, and he abandoned all pretense of being too cool for a hug as Sam threw his arms around his little big brother.
"Hey man," Sam said, and then gave one of those awkward side-arm hugs to Cas who had only recently been accepting physical greeting and affection from the younger Winchester. "You're only fifteen minutes late, that's a record."
"Well you know, I try," Dean said and slumped into the chair, glaring at Cas, daring him to say a word about their argument.
"How are things?"
Dean gave his younger brother his trademark nonchalant shrug-slash-side head-nod and said, "Same old shit, different day. Ganked a couple of rogue demons last week. Nice to see their numbers dwindling."
"I guess my research is paying off, then," Sam said.
"Yeah, it is, Man Of Letters guy, thanks," Dean said. "So uh how's the woman? And the little rug-rat? What's his name again?" Though Dean knew perfectly well it was a little girl named Meg—and Dean protested that one, he didn't give a shit how much Meg had helped them in the end, that bitch had her eye on Dean's boyfriend and that was not going to happen—and she actually looked a lot like Dean. But there was no way in hell Dean was going to let on that he was half-way in love with the little ankle-biter niece of his, because the hell he was going soft over some kid.
"Amy and Meg are both fine, thank you," Sam said with a frown that said he knew his brother was just being kind of a dick on purpose, and he never really cared.
Then they made some small talk, just bullshitting about the weather and current events, and they ordered some food, and Cas kept staring at Dean but the hell Dean was going to bring up gay sex during dinner. But… then something… shifted. Maybe it was the way Cas was staring at Dean, or the way that Cas's hand was resting on the table and Dean kind of just wanted to hold it. Maybe it was the fact that they'd been sitting and laughing and drinking for so long that Dean was pretty drunk and in a moment of lowered inhibitions he realized that Sam actually wouldn't care.
"What is going on over there?" Cas said suddenly, nodding across the way to the window of a tattoo and piercing shop.
Both Winchesters glanced over and saw some dude spread-eagled in a tattoo chair with his pants down and being that they were literally about five feet away from that window thanks to the small ass strip-mall sidewalks, they could see the man's rather sensitive parts being pierced by some big, burly bald dude with a skull glaring at them from the back of his neck.
"Oh shit," Sam said, shaking his head.
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes away from the scene. "You'd think they'd at least close the curtains or something. Jesus, give a dude some privacy."
"People find that sort of thing… appealing?" Cas asked, and looked right at Dean.
"I don't know, man, I think that's a sort of… special thing. What's it called, Prince Albert?" Sam retorted.
Dean snorted into his beer and coughed. "I'm surprised you actually know that word, Sammy."
"I don't live in a cave, Dean."
"Well whatever," Dean said. "I just don't think I'd feel safe with some dude jamming a needle into my schmack. I mean, what if he hit a nerve and the shit just went dead."
"It's a trend that's increasing in popularity," Cas replied and he actually looked down at his crotch and shrugged. "Perhaps I should apply one of these Prince Alberts to my own genitals to increase my sexual prowess."
It was Sam's turn to choke on his beer and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Jesus Cas. I um… well I just know you couldn't get me drunk enough to get me in a chair and let some dude put a needle through my junk."
"I'm not sure I would be bothered by the pain." Cas looked pointedly at Dean. "Do you think it would increase a sexual desire for this body?"
Dean looked at Cas, then looked at Sam who was frowning at the question, and then he knew it was now or never. It was set up and you know… why the hell not. "All I know is, if you got one of those Cas, it would just leave me with a bunch of broken teeth, and I really don't think I can afford those dental bills on my hunter's salary."
There. He'd said it.
Awkward silence settled over the table and Dean absolutely could not look over at Sam. He heard the scraping of Sam's fork as he stabbed a bit of lettuce and put it in his mouth.
After a second, in the din of the restaurant chatter, Dean heard Sam say under his breath, "Well that explains a LOT."
Dean looked up, letting out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and quirked half of his mouth upwards. "Yeah well I uh…"
Sam gave a little snort and shook his head. "It's fine, Dean. I think you were the only one who didn't know from the moment Cas appeared. And really, it's just about damn time."