Warnings: Some discussion of mental health issues.

Thank you to Damaged Emerald for two lovely reviews, and an extra special thank you to HollieElisabeth who is singlehandedly responsible for half the reviews this story has received.

Cas doesn't appear in this chapter. I promise I'll make it up to you in the next one, but I felt like this story needed more brotherly love. =)

Chapter Seven

"So what's his name?"

Dean froze in the kitchen door like a deer in the headlights. "Who?"

Sam closed his laptop and gave his brother a Look. "Dude, don't even try. You've been out all night, and you've got a hickey on your neck. Just please tell me he's not married."

"What? No!" To Sam's relief, Dean sounded more surprised than defensive. "Come on, Sammy. You know me better than that."

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't slept well last night, his mind subconsciously waiting for the familiar rumble of the Impala and Dean's footsteps on the stairs. "You're right. I do. I'm sorry. I just can't figure out why you suddenly feel the need to sneak around. You know I have no problem with you liking guys." A thought occurred to him. "It is a guy, right? You haven't suddenly decided that you're bi or pan or something? Cause that would be okay with me too."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I know that, and no, I'm still definitely gay."

"Okay, so why all the secrecy?"

"I don't know. I just … I didn't want to make a big deal out of it until I was sure that it was … you know." Dean's eyes darted away shyly, and a pink tinge crept into his cheeks. "Serious," he finished so quietly that Sam almost missed it.

Sam's eyebrows rose, and something like hope swelled in his chest. He hadn't seen that look on his brother in a long time. Not since Benny. "And is it?" he asked, hardly daring to breathe while he waited for an answer.

Dean finally came all the way into the room and sat down across from Sam. "Yeah. I mean, I think so, and I'm pretty sure he thinks so. I don't know how long it's gonna last, but it's definitely more than a fling."

The bubble of hope in Sam's chest got so big that it almost hurt. "So I repeat. What's his name?"

"Cas." A smile tugged at Dean's mouth as he said it.

"And how did you meet him?"

"At work. We did an oil change for him, and when he came to get his car, I was working the desk cause Bobby was out with the tow truck, and Ash was helping Andy with a custom paint job, and … Well, you know I'm not the most focused person at the best of times, and suddenly there's this gorgeous man standing in front of me. I got so distracted I almost forgot to get his payment. He had to remind me. God, he must have thought I was a total idiot, but somehow I got up the nerve to ask him out before he left, and for some reason he said yes, and … Well, that was about two weeks ago." Dean trailed off, a smile still on his face.

"You're falling in love with him, aren't you?" Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded, a far away look in his eyes. "God help me, I think I am." He abruptly focused on Sam again, and his tone was a little panicked when he continued, "That's crazy, right? I mean, that's impossible. You can't fall in love in two weeks. Not really."

Sam shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I fell for Jess in, like, two seconds. Just took me a while to admit that I was a goner. You should be really sure before you say anything to him though."

"I know. Believe me, I'm trying my damnedest not to screw this up." Dean looked down at the scratched wood of the tabletop, tracing the spot where they'd carved their initials into it the day they moved in. There was a similar mark on the back right side door of the Impala, and on the windowsill of their room at Bobby and Jodi's house. It was their tradition, their way of declaring, This is home. "I told him about Dad."

That took Sam by surprise. As far as he knew, Dean had never shared that part of his past with any of his previous boyfriends, not even Benny.

"He told me some stuff about himself. Stuff you don't tell someone you're not serious about. And I wanted him to know that I was serious too, and that I got it, you know? That my life wasn't perfect either."

"Do you regret telling him?" Sam asked, puzzled by Dean's tone. It was almost fearful.

"No, but that's what's kind of freaking me out. I … I trust him, Sam. I don't know if I love him, but I definitely trust him."

"That's a good thing."

"Yeah, but it's … unexpected. I don't normally trust people this fast."

"So maybe you're finally learning how to listen to your instincts and not your inner abandoned child."

Dean gave Sam an amused look. "My what? Have you been reading self help books again?"

"No, I, um …" Sam took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to tell him. "I've actually been seeing a therapist." He plowed on before Dean could say anything. "Please don't go all Winchester on me about this, okay? I was skeptical at first, but Jess talked me into it, and it's actually really helping."

"Okay, but what is it helping with exactly?" Dean demanded, his eyes frantically searching Sam's face. "Sammy, are you … not okay?"

Sam realized where his brother's mind was going and kicked himself for not being clearer. "Dean, I'm not depressed or suicidal or anything. I'm just having some anxiety about the wedding and my future with Jess and what kind of husband and father I'm going to be considering the way we grew up. I just needed someone to teach me how to correct my thought process and pull myself out of the hole when I start spiraling. That's all."

"Oh." Dean relaxed. "Okay. You know you didn't need to hide this from me."

"And you didn't need to hide your boyfriend from me, so we're even."

"Fair enough."

"You hungry?" Sam asked after a minute.

"Starving. Haven't eaten since last night, and there was a lot of —"

"If you don't finish that sentence, I'll make you chocolate chip pancakes."

Dean immediately closed his mouth.

They actually worked together to make the pancakes, Dean mixing the batter while Sam prepped the griddle. Dean was a decent cook as long as there was no fire involved in his part of the process.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean said as he gradually whisked the dry ingredients into the wet. "Can I change my mind about that plus one?"

Sam smiled. "Of course, Dean." He valiantly resisted the urge to say, I told you so.