Erm. Yeah so things get maybe a touch kinky this chapter? I tried not to make Sam into a creepy voyeur but these things just happen sometimes. I wasn't going for Wincestiel either, but if you want to infer that from this chapter I wouldn't blame you.
Sorry if Cas and Dean are OOC, I don't really think they'd be quite like this but it amuses me so I wrote it. Artistic license, right? Hope this strikes you as fun rather than weird and icky XD

The time with the very short shorts

It was an unusually lazy, quiet day in the bunker. Kevin wasn't around, having been dragged off on a 'bonding' trip with his Mom. Dean had wandered out of a late morning shower about forty minutes beforehand and had just gone off to wash the Impala, so he'd be several hours. I was relaxing in the library with a jug of coffee and a plate of fruit and toast for lunch, reading the newest of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' books.

"Where's Dean?"

I looked up to see Castiel standing in the doorway with messy hair, wearing jogging pants and a hoodie. He was blinking blearily, having just dragged himself out of bed in time to still call it morning. I shot him a fake annoyed look.

"Gee, nice to see you too, Cas. Good morning."

Whilst all out of actual angel grace, the novice human at least had the metaphorical grace to look ashamed. "I apologise, Sam. How has your morning been?"

Snorting, I popped a grape into my mouth, laying my book down. "Great, actually. Quiet. You have a good sleep in?"

Cas nodded, wandering towards the table. "Yes. I enjoy sleeping. Nightmares are too common an occurrence, though."

I frowned in sympathy. "You get nightmares?"

"More and more as I've gotten used to sleeping. That's why I was looking for Dean. I know that he suffers from nightmares sometimes."

Several things were on the tip of my tongue; curiosity about the contents of his nightmares, concern that he might have been having trouble coping with being human, assurance that I got nightmares too, possibly a scathing comment that Dean dealt with nightmares the way he dealt with everything else: suppression and alcohol.

But then I got a wickedly excellent idea.

"OK, well if you're looking for Dean, he's in the garage," I said casually, picking up my book again. "He's washing the car but I'm sure he'll have time to chat."

Cas smiled at me. "Thanks, Sam. I'll go and speak to him."

I kept my eyes trained on my book until he'd left the room, breaking down into hushed laughter as soon as he was out of hearing. Scrambling up from the table, I darted after him, stepping lightly and silently across the floor. I caught up to him in the corridor, hiding behind corners and creeping along behind him. Cas reached the ajar door to the garage unaware that I was barely ten feet behind him, shadowed by an alcove. He pushed open the door and stepped through, striding into the large space. Slipping into the room behind him, I stepped behind a wheeled shelving unit and snickered silently as Castiel staggered to a dead halt at the sight in front of him.

The Impala was parked in the middle of the garage, well lit and covered in soapy water. Dean was half-kneeling on the bonnet to scrub at the centre of the windshield, wearing a ragged grey t shirt and his special car washing shorts. They were tiny and acid green and barely reached a few inches below his buttocks, leaving the full length of his well-muscled legs bare, save a few soap suds. I had given him so much shit for those shorts over the years, but Dean insisted that they were 'practical'. Right now they made him look like some kind of discount gay pornstar. I could see Cas's profile and his mouth was hanging open, probably wondering if he'd fallen asleep and was having some weird fantasy.

"...Dean?" came his hoarse whisper.

Dean whipped his head up at the sound. His face had a moment to register pure horror and then he was slipping clumsily down the hood of the car, yelping as he squeaked to a halt on his stomach, neon green ass sticking up. I pressed my fist to my mouth, the suppressed laughter making my belly ache. This was already fucking glorious. Dean scrambled to his feet, the front of his skimpy outfit soaked, face flushing even brighter than the damn booty shorts. He clutched the sodden rag in his hands and stared at Cas, who had his fists clenched by his sides and was breathing rather deeply. The way he was looking at Dean made me worry suddenly if I'd be able to leave the room quickly and quietly if I needed to in a hurry; I didn't need to see an actual porno, even if it looked exactly like the set up for one.

"Dean," Castiel said again, voice flat and calm even as his eyes raked over the man in question. "Sam said you'd be in here."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Oh, did he?"

"Yes. He said you'd be washing the car."

"Yeah, well..." Dean gestured helplessly to the car, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, eyes flickering from the floor to Cas's unwavering gaze and then back again. The ex-angel nodded and walked directly over to Dean, purpose in every step. I gulped and got ready to bolt if things took a ratings switch. Dean watched him approach with a ridiculous mixture of stark fear and mounting excitement clear on his face, which abruptly turned to confusion as Castiel grabbed the cloth from his hand and walked to the car.

"Let me help," he said simply, leaning over the bonnet in the same pose Dean had been in when he entered the room, carefully swiping the rag across the windshield. Dean blatantly stared at his ass in the jogging pants and I rolled my eyes. This was a porno without the goddamn porn, for which I was grateful, but it was a bit tragic. Trust these two to be drowning in sexual tension and still not make a move to help themselves. Scratching the back of his neck, Dean mumbled his thanks as Cas finished wiping suds off of the glass and straightened up, blue eyes twinkling.

Passing the rag back into Dean's slack grip, Castiel wandered over to the shelving unit on the other side of the car and leaned against it, folding his arms and gazing at Dean with no shyness whatsoever. Dean appeared robbed of anything more than basic function and was standing there staring back at him in utter silence, lips parted and eyes wide. Finally, after several seconds of me silently mouthing at him to stop acting like a fucking idiot, he stirred.

"Thanks," he said again, weakly, and Cas smiled kindly.

"You already thanked me, Dean. You obviously know more about car washing than me, though. You carry on."

Dean frowned, twisting the rag again. "What about you?"

Cas actually smirked at him, the cheeky bastard, and I wondered if he hadn't taken notes from Meg. He cocked his head and ran his eyes up and down Dean in a leisurely way, crossing one ankle over the other. "I'll watch."

Well, shit. I saw Dean's chest hitch with his sharp inhale. He looked like he might pass out. They stared at each other for several long, unbroken seconds before Dean turned abruptly and walked back to the car. My mouth dropped open as he began polishing the side window, head bowed and eyes trained on his hands. OK, nope, I really wanted to leave the room now. They hadn't even touched and I was learning way too much about their sex life. Which they didn't actually have, as far as I knew. Cas looked relaxed and unmistakably smug, shamelessly checking my brother out from his spot by the shelving. I shuddered. I had not wanted to know that Cas was the dominant one in their weird little hands-free relationship. This was what I damn well deserved, though, for following him into the room.

Dean finished that side of the car in total silence, cheeks flushed and breathing shallow. Cas followed his every movement with gleaming blue eyes, chewing on his lower lip. I loitered in deep discomfort, wanting more than ever for them to just fucking make out already so that I could slip out of the room and never return. But they both seemed to be getting some kind of kick out of the heavy silence and heightened tension. Gross. I was intensely glad that Dean was hidden by and facing the car so that it was impossible to see if the spaciousness of those stupid shorts was being tested. I refused to let my eyes stray below the waist on Cas, unwilling to risk permanent mental scarring.

Castiel spoke up suddenly, his deep voice making both myself and my brother jump. "I like those shorts, Dean."

Oh, shit, this was so weird. Whatever colour had faded from Dean's cheekbones returned in full force. He swallowed thickly before replying, looking at Cas from under his lashes. "Thanks."

"Do you always wear them to wash the car?"

His voice was light and conversational, but I was still half-expecting Dean to call him 'sir'. Dean nodded, watching Cas's face with rapt attention. He was acting so unlike himself it was creepy to watch. I wondered if he was always like this when alone with Cas; softer, quieter, more submissive and gentle. It was sort of nice - in a very fucked up way - that he could be like that at all, with anyone. Cas was smiling at him, uncrossing his arms to shove his hands into his pockets. They had another little staring contest before Dean suddenly seemed to come to his senses, shaking out of whatever spell he'd been under. He looked at the car, frowning, and his voice came out louder and gruffer this time.

"What did you come down here for, Cas?"

The ex-angel straightened at his tone, the smile faltering, his eyes unsure and a bit scared now. He watched Dean closely as he replied. "I wanted to talk to you. I've had more of the nightmares."

Dean's eyes softened as he turned back to look at his friend. "The same ones?"

Castiel shrugged. "Mostly the same, yes."

"Cas," Dean sighed, looking sad. "I told you, you... you don't have to go through that alone. Why didn't you come see me?"

Cas looked away and bit his lip, missing the way Dean tracked the movement with his sharp green gaze. "I wanted to."

There was a pause and I leaned forward, horribly intrigued by this. Clearly there were whole levels of interaction between these two which I knew nothing about. Dean dropped the rag and ran a damp hand through his hair, making it stand up. He sighed again, frustrated this time.

"So... why didn't you?"

Cas glanced at him then looked away again, and now he was the one who was blushing. He answered in almost a murmur and I had to strain to hear it. "After the first time, it seemed like I should stay away."

Holy shit, what had gone on between them? My eyebrows couldn't possibly have raised any higher. Dean crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable but determined. "Don't worry about it, man. I was the one who was weird about it, not you."

I wasn't sure what exactly they were discussing but I was really impressed by Dean's behaviour. He was actually trying to work through something which was emotionally confronting for him. He was never this mature or open with anyone else. I was more convinced than ever that these two needed to be together. I looked at Cas and he was giving Dean a tremulous, adoring smile. Fucking typical.

"OK, Dean. Next time I have a nightmare, I'll come and tell you. Alright?"

"Alright," Dean grinned, looking relieved. He grabbed the rag from the floor and dipped it into the bucket of soapy water, walking around to my side of the car and beginning to scrub the back door. Thankfully a serious conversation appeared to have dealt with any challenges the earlier exchange might have presented to his shorts. Cas watched him fondly and then pushed off from the shelving, walking past Dean with a quiet farewell and a final backward glance at the booty shorts. Dean nodded without looking up and scrubbed at the same spot until the ex-angel was well out of the room. Then he leaned his forehead against the roof of the car, groaning quietly.

Smirking to myself, I tiptoed out as well. I had learned much from my spying, much more than I had ever wanted to know. But at least now I knew beyond doubt that I was in the right, and that my efforts were paying off. Dean and Castiel seemed closer than ever. I hummed as I strolled back to my book, wondering if I would even know about it when they finally did get together. They already acted more like a couple than most couples. Idjits.