Sam Winchester looked up from his research when a knock rattled the cheap door of the motel he and Dean were currently claiming as residence. He frowned and reached for the gun sitting just beyond his laptop. The maid had already tossed him a handful of dingy towels and Dean had never knocked a day in his life (except for that time when he was dying...and that better not be the case now). He held the gun behind him and approached the door, bending a little to see out the peephole. What the-

"Cas?" He quickly attacked the locks and threw back the door.

The angel stood before him, looking as placid as ever. "Hello, Sam."

"What are you doing out there?"

"Waiting for you to invite me in."

"Oh!" Sam stood back and waved the angel inside. "Why didn't you, y'know, just pop inside like you did yesterday?" He knew Cas was slowly losing his powers but he didn't think it had deteriorated so much that he had to use doors.

"Popping in isn't polite. Besides, Dean's not here."

Sam raised an eyebrow, then figured it out. Cas only did it to annoy Dean. That, that was just golden. "Dude. You guys have weird dating rituals."

Cas drew back his shoulders as if he were about to march into battle. "That's what I've come to speak to you about. Your human rituals are confusing."

Okaaay. These discussions usually fell under Dean's domain-who was surprisingly patient with the angel at times-but Sam figured he could handle it once in a while. And probably do a better job than Dean. "What can I help you with, Cas?"

"According to your internet, Saint Valentine was possibly one of three martyrs beheaded by various governments. Why is everyone so happy about this?" Cas pulled a newspaper out of a coat pocket and handed it to Sam. In a colorful ad, Happy St. Valentine's Day was declared in big, bold letters.

Sam smiled with confidence. This was something he'd actually researched back in his early teens. "Apparently one of the Valentines married couples that the leader of the time didn't want married and that's why the ruler had him killed. Thus, Valentine became the patron saint of love and lovers."

"He did something illegal, died for it, and is now celebrated with chocolate and peculiar fake animals. Humans have interesting thought patterns."

Yeah, no patterns at all. Sam looked at the ad again. There was a small cupid decked out in a red bow smiling back at him. "So, why didn't you ask one of the cupids?"

"Dean would not like it if I embraced a naked being other than himself."

Sam blinked. He'd known-well, suspected, but to have it put so bluntly... His brother was boning-um, not a good word for an angel. His brother was having intimate relations with an angel. Not a former, female, I-don't-remember-being-an-angel, angel, but a real-life, card carrying, wing-spreading, smite-you-with-a-big-sword, angel-of-the-lord, angel. In a male body.

Damn, the Evangelicals were gonna shit ducks if they found out about this! Male/male, sinner/angel, zealot/heathen... The mind boggled. "Yeah, not too fond of the cupid standard greeting myself."

Cas shrugged. "They are what they are. Thank you for your help, Sam. I must go contemplate this issue. I do not want to receive 'the silent treatment' tomorrow."

"We're talking Dean, here. He's rarely silent."

Cas visibly brightened. "You are correct. But I do not want to disappoint him."

"Sure, I understand. He likes pie, you know."

"Ah, there's a bakery in Australia that excels in the pastry arts, but perhaps Dean would enjoy one from the Amish in Pennsylvania... You stopped there when he was ten and he quite enjoyed himself. I will see you later, Sam." Cas left the room in his usual sudden manner.

"Not if I can help it," Sam muttered. Dean orgasming over pie...or worse, wasn't something Sam had any intention of witnessing.

"Where we going, dude? Got a hunt?" Dean asked when he walked in, hands full of white food bags.

Sam zipped his duffel and stuffed his laptop in its case. "We are going nowhere. I am being the best brother in the whole world and moving to a room far on the other end of the motel."

"What the hell, Sammy?"

"Your boyfriend stopped by earlier. He's planning big things for Valentine's Day. Three is definitely going to be a crowd."

"Boyfriend?" Dean tried to look confused.

"Oh, just stop it, Dean. The gig is up. Cas let it slip that you guys do naked hugging."

Dean actually blushed. "Ah, well, um..."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. Just-try not to be an asshole, okay? You got him something, didn't you?"

Dean nodded. "Got him a bag of cheeseburgers right here."

Sam shook his head. Good thing one of them was an angel and the other got chased regularly by malevolent entities or else they'd be one of those couples on The Biggest Loser. Speaking of being an angel..."This is all, um, kosher, right? I mean, you and him doing, er, whatever it is that you do? God's all M.I.A. but, Cas isn't breaking any holy laws, right?"

"Cas says God doesn't give a shit about who's doing who unless one of them is breaking vows. Man is the fucker that came up with all the bullshit."

"That's good. One abomination in the family is enough." Dean just gave him the stink-eye. "Give me a call when it's safe for me to come over. I got the room for two nights, just in case."

Dean nodded. "Thanks, Sam. I-I was thinking about...well, never mind."

"Thinking about what, Dean?" Sam slung his laptop on his shoulder and hefted the duffel bag.

Dean scratched behind his ear. "I might, if you don't want it, I might give Cas Dad's wedding ring?"

Sam stared at his brother. The ring was sacred to Dean in ways it wasn't to him. And if Dean wanted to give it to Cas, this was more than just a friends with privileges thing. This was an "OMG, I have a brother-in-law" thing. He put his stuff down and swooped Dean into a giant hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Back off, you big ol' girl!" Dean said after letting the hug last for ten whole seconds. "It's just something I'm thinking about."

Sam sniffed loudly. "You have my approval, Dean, whether you're asking for it or not."

"I'm not asking," Dean said hastily. "But thanks anyway."

Sam gathered his things, including one of the bags of food, patted his brother on the back, and left for his new room. Same shitty wallpaper. Same questionable bathroom. Same mildewy-smelling bedspread. Ah, home sweet home.

After eating, he tossed the bedspread to the floor and fell back against the mattress, bracing himself when it creaked but didn't break. He flashed back to looking at rings for Jessica and he hoped, and prayed to a god he was starting to doubt, that the story ended better for Dean and Cas. Surely one Winchester deserved a happily ever after. And while he was jealous it wasn't going to be him, he couldn't begrudge his brother this chance. Not when there were dick angels waiting to traipse them down the catwalk and an apocalypse hovering just over the horizon.

Sam drifted to sleep, only waking when what could've been earthquake, but wasn't, rocked the room. Instead of panicking, he rolled to his side and smiled. "Way to go, big brother!"

He clicked off the bedside lamp he'd left on, bunched a chlorine-scented pillow beneath his head, and curled back into his dreams of a small apartment in California.

The End