This chapter is somewhat fluffy but also full of important… talks… and stuff. That stuff that we all wish we could just skip but we know we can't.

That stuff.

Still some fluff in there for you, though! Enjoy!

CHAPTER 10:

The Shave

There's something… different. About Dean and Castiel. Something very different. They're more… comfortable? Close? Sam's not sure. They've always been comfortable and close. It was strange at first but quickly became the norm. So maybe that's not what's different, but he's sure that there's something different.

This is something new, and yet at the same time something familiar. Something that maybe has been there for a long time and Sam just hasn't noticed until right this very minute while they're all sat in front of the television.

He can see them from the corner of his eye, sitting as close as humanly possible beside each other on the couch. This couch can sit 3 comfortably, but they're so close that there's enough space between Castiel and Sam to fit a fourth person. They appear to be paying attention to the television, but appearances can be deceiving. Sam can tell just by looking at them that they're distracted, and based on the way their eyes keep flicking to the other's, it's seemingly by each other.

But it's not distracted in a bad way, it's distracted in a good way? If that makes sense? He doesn't really have any concrete proof to back this up, but he's known Dean all his life and Castiel has been around for years. He's familiar with their behaviour and there is definitely something going on here. Something must have happened, and whatever it is Sam isn't in on it.

How long has this strangeness been going on for? As far as Sam is concerned, things between them have been normal. They stand too close together, they're always in the same room, they're oddly protective of one another, they graze their fingers together when they're watching Star Trek-

Wait.

Did that just happen? Did that really just happen?

Is this… is this still considered normal Dean/Castiel behaviour? He's never noticed that before. But maybe it's all in his head. Maybe this is-

Again. They just did it again. And now they're staring at each other.

Oh god, this is so not typical Dean/Castiel behaviour. He definitely would have noticed this before. Sam prides himself in his sharp attention to detail and his ability to read situations in front of him, and he has never noticed his brother casually touching their best friend's hand like this. Not that Castiel seems to mind.

God, he can literally feel himself transforming into a third wheel on his end of the sofa and everything is so painfully obvious now. He needs to get Castiel alone, because despite him being almost as emotionally stunted as Dean, he's still a better bet.

"I'm goin' to the store. Need me to pick up anything in particular?" Dean asks gruffly, throwing on his leather jacket and grabbing the keys off the living room coffee table.

"Nah, I think I've got everything I need," Sam answers, eyes still trained on the television.

Dean shrugs his shoulders and makes for the stairs. "Suit yourself," he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door. A few seconds later the sound of the Impala roaring to life can be heard through the walls, and Sam's bolting up from the sofa and heading for the library.

He's been waiting for an opportunity to talk with Cas on his own all day, but it's not so easy when he's practically glued to his brother's hip. He wanders in to the library and finds Castiel buried in an encyclopedia, which seems to be the best place to find him when Dean isn't around.

"Hey, Cas," he says eagerly, taking a seat across from him.

Castiel looks up from his book and gives Sam a warm, welcoming smile. "Good evening, Sam."

"Mm, it is, isn't?" he replies, returning Castiel's smile with one of his own. "Which is why I was thinking maybe we could go do a bit of target practice. You up for it?"

"Target practice?" Castiel asks cautiously, slowly dog-earing the corner page of his book and lowering it to the table.

"Yeah," Sam says. "You know, with guns. We're gonna' have to get back on the hunting bandwagon eventually. I could use a bit of de-rusting, and you're gonna' have to learn how to use guns if you want to hunt with us." There's only so much a knife can get you when you don't have angelic powers to back you up.

Castiel seems to consider this, then nods his head and rises from his seat. "Very well," he agrees. "I suppose some practice would be beneficial. Lead the way."

Sam takes Cas out to the empty field behind the bunker. Him and Dean haven't practiced out here for a while, but there are still all kinds of things set up at a proper shooting distance that he and Cas can practice on. Empty barrels, cans on an old desk, and a rather large assortment of empty beer bottles.

He gives Castiel his gun and quickly goes over how to use it, careful to emphasize the safety mechanism on it. He lets Cas take the first few shots, but the grunts of frustration coming from Cas tell him that he's not enjoying it very much.

"I would really much prefer to use a knife," he says grumpily, lowering the gun and switching spots with Sam as he passes it to him.

"I know," Sam says sympathetically, taking his stance and pointing the gun at one of the beer bottles. "But a knife can't always do the trick. You'll get used to it." He pulls the trigger, but he misses the bottle by a couple of inches. He's a bit rustier than he had thought. He lines up another shot and holds his arms steady, then pulls the trigger for the second time. This time the bullet sails right through the bottle, shattering it into a hundred pieces all over the grass around it.

"See?" he says, smiling big at Cas as he holds out the gun for him to take again. "We just need some practice." Cas gives him a tight, polite smile in return and takes the gun back out of Sam's hand.

They carry on in silence for a few minutes, taking shots and switching places. Eventually Cas starts hitting things, and his mood seems to pick up a bit. Sam's always been a firm believer in "practice makes perfect".

He's aware that he only has a limited amount of time alone with Cas before Dean gets back from the store, so he forces himself to pick up enough courage to ask Castiel the questions that have been on his mind for hours.

"So," he starts, watching as Castiel lines up his next shot. "There's, err… actually something I wanted to talk with you about."

Castiel takes the shot and misses, lowering his arms as he passes the gun back to Sam. His face twists with intrigue as he trades places with Sam. "You know you are welcome to speak with me about anything, Sam," he says calmly, watching Sam as he gets ready for his turn.

"I know," Sam replies, bringing his arms up to point the gun where he wants it. "Which is why I'm coming to you about this instead of Dean." He pulls the trigger and perfectly shatters another beer bottle.

"Oh…" Castiel replies, sounding weary about talking behind Dean's back. He's nothing if not loyal to Dean, that's for sure.

"I've just noticed you guys have been a bit… different, lately," Sam says carefully, lining up his next shot. "You know, closer and err… touching, and stuff. Like, more than usual."

"Oh…" he hears Cas say quietly from beside him. He pulls the trigger and misses.

"Yeah…" Sam says, just as quietly. He lowers his arms and turns to face Cas, turning the safety on the gun on and keeping it in his grip. "I just… I have to ask. Is there, err… something going on, between you two?"

Castiel looks down at his feet, awkwardly switching from one to the other as he bites his bottom lip. "I'm unsure, to be honest." He sounds pensive, but not upset in any way. "Do you think there is?" he asks, his head rising from the ground to meet Sam's worried expression.

"Honestly," Sam says, rubbing the back of his neck as he talks, "I hadn't really thought anything of it until recently. Do you, you know… like him?" He can feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. He might be more willing to have these types of conversations than his older brother is, but that doesn't mean he enjoys them any more than him. "And we both know you know that I don't just mean like, I mean… like like."

Castiel stays silent for a minute before lowering his head and staring at his feet. "If you are referring to love, then the answer is yes."

Leave it to Cas to be straight to the point. "Okay…" Sam says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck again with one hand. He's at a loss for words here. He doesn't want Cas to get hurt. "I, err… don't know what to say to that. I don't… have you considered that Dean doesn't, you know…"

"Yes," Cas says carefully, bringing his eyes back up to Sam's. "I have considered it. I've considered that I am a man. I've considered that I want a relationship, not a one-night stand. I've considered that Dean has never shown significant interest in either of those things." Sam nods his head in sympathy as Cas speaks. "But… recent events, leave me believe that maybe that doesn't matter. Maybe I can be an exception…"

Sam internally cringes at the sound of hope in Cas' voice and the small smile that tugs at his lips as he looks out at the skyline. He knows the feelings that Cas is experiencing, and he knows what it's like to lose the person you love. He doesn't want to see that happen to Cas when Dean turns him down.

"Not to sound like a downer here, man, but what makes you think you're an exception?" he asks softly, careful not to sound too harsh.

A small smirk tilts the corner of Cas' mouth as he looks back down at the ground before he talks. "Well…" he says, failing to meet Sam's gaze, "we did hold hands." He looks about as bashful as a kindergartener admitting he has his first crush. "And we have been spending more time together. Alone…"

"You held hands?" Sam asks incredulously. "Like, on purpose?" He's finding it difficult to imagine Dean holding hands with anyone, let alone Castiel, his very male and very supernatural best friend.

"Well I assume it was on purpose, seeing as he asked my permission first," Castiel says confusedly, finally bringing his eyes back to Sam's.

Sam's eyebrows shoot to the top of his head, because that is surprising to hear. The fact that Dean initiated this and even asked Castiel if it was okay. It's all rather… domestic. And totally not like Dean at all.

And, again, since when? Since when does his brother like to touch people's hands and stare longingly into their eyes like a fairy-tale princess? Let alone a guy's eyes. Not that Sam has anything against that, but as far as he knows Dean's never shown any interest in guys before.

And this is Castiel. Dean's best friend. What the hell is he thinking here? Because Sam's never seen him think about anything past a one-night stand. Castiel doesn't know any better, and Sam's sure as hell not going to let Dean lead Castiel on if he's not serious about this. Nobody deserves that.

"He's not, like, you know… just trying to get… you know..." he asks awkwardly, again trying to be as gentle as possible as he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

Cas shakes his head. "He hasn't pushed for anything else," Cas says firmly. "I have considered everything, Sam, trust me. I appreciate your concern for me, but I too have no interest in seeing myself get hurt over this. I have put much thought into this, and I truly feel like I'm not alone in this want."

The more Sam thinks about it, the more it seems like maybe Dean could finally be interested in something more important than one night of sex with a total stranger. He's apparently willing to overlook the whole "Cas is a dude" thing, which is saying a lot about whether or not he cares more about the person Castiel is, not the gender. That's gotta' mean something, right?

Cas is staring back at him now, concern flooding his face as he waits for Sam to say something. He gives Cas a small, reassuring smile and nods his head. "You know I just want what's best for both of you, right?" Cas nods his head, the concern leaving his face and replaced with content. "Good. And I do really hope you get what you want, Cas. You both deserve to be happy."

He's still not sure what Dean's motives are behind this, and he's going to have to talk with Dean on his own. Which sounds about as fun as a root canal, but Cas clearly has expectations of where this relationship is going, and Sam isn't going to let his brother ruin Castiel's faith in him over something as ridiculous as Dean being desperate to get laid. A large part of him likes to think that Dean would never do that to Cas if he knew he was doing it, but there's no telling whether or not he's aware of Cas' feelings on this.

The two friends smile at each other once more as Sam tucks the gun back into its spot in the back of his pants. He turns back to Castiel, who's absently scratching at the whiskers on is chin as he stairs into the now setting sun. He looks rather uncomfortable as he scratches himself, and it's then that Sam realizes that Cas is sporting a beard nearly a centimeter long.

"Hey," he says, an idea popping into his head. "How about we teach you to shave?"

Castiel stops scratching and turns wide eyes on Sam. "Right now?"

"Yeah, why not?" Sam beams at him, grabbing him around one shoulder and pulling him back to the bunker. "No better time than the present, right?"

Dean comes home to find the living room devoid of all life (not that you can hardly call what Sam and Cas do in the living room… well, living). He drops off the groceries in the kitchen, looking for any sign as to wear his brother and best friend have gone. His best bet is the library, since that's where most nerds like to hang out, so he makes his way down the hall.

He turns into the library, but doesn't find anyone in there. He checks Sam's room next, but he's not in there either. Deans' starting to get worried now, but he tries to remain calm. He's sure he's just overreacting.

He continues down the hallway, intending to check Cas' room next, but the sound of Sam's voice carrying from the bathroom keeps him from getting any further. The door is open so he stands in the doorway, and there's his brother and Cas both standing in front of the mirror, razors in their hands and shaving cream covering their chins. Cas looks like he hasn't actually shaved anything yet, but he's watching closely as Sam demonstrates on his own face.

A tight twist of jealousy causes his stomach to flop as he watches Cas watch Sam. Don't get him wrong, he's happy to see Sam and Cas spending time together and getting along as well as ever, but Dean really wanted to be the one to teach Cas this step of humanity. Although he can't say he has any reason beyond wanting to stand close to Cas while he teaches him.

Eventually Sam finishes shaving his own beard, and neither he nor Cas have apparently noticed Dean lurking in the doorway yet.

"Alright, now you try," Sam says eagerly, rinsing his own face off in the running water. Cas looks dubious, but Sam's head pops up out of the sink and he gives Cas a reassuring smile. "Trust me, man, it's really easy. You got this."

Cas nods his head and turns his face back to his own reflection in the mirror. He holds his breath and tilts his chin up towards the light, carefully raking the razor down one side of his chin. The razor glides without a problem, and Cas smiles to himself before quickly searching for approval in Sam's face. As he turns towards Sam, however, he catches his skin on the razor, causing a gruff "Ow" to escape his throat as he snaps back to his own reflection in the mirror to see what he's done.

"Shit," Sam says, grabbing some toilet paper from the roll to use for the small amount of blood that's starting to blot on Cas' chin. Cas is frowning at himself, the razor forgotten on the counter as he leans in to the mirror to get a better look at the cut.

"Here," Dean says, finally making his presence known as he strolls in to the bathroom and takes the square of toilet paper out of Sam's hand. "I've got this. You're not the best teacher, Sammy. Go watch your television."

Sam furrows his brow and rolls his eyes, but he does head for the door. "Whatever, just don't blame me when you come out with a beard of tiny toilet paper squares, Cas," he teases, quickly turning down the hall before Dean can launch the rest of the toilet paper roll at his stupid sarcastic head.

He huffs a small laugh as he turns back to Cas, who's now turned with his back leaning against the sink so to face Dean. He rips a tiny square of toilet paper and sticks it to the cut on Cas cheek, suddenly very aware of how intimate this is. He can feel Cas' breath on his skin like a warm night's breeze, and it's very… relaxing.

Once he's got the toilet paper in place, he reaches behind Cas and grabs the razor off the spot where he had set it down on the counter. "Wanna' try again?" Dean asks quietly, holding the razor up between their two faces.

Cas looks wearily at the razor in Dean's hand, then quickly shakes his head no as his eyes crawl back up to Dean's. "I'd rather not," he says honestly.

"Well you can't just walk around with one line shaved in to the side of your cheek, man," Dean says with a grin. "Mind if I…?" he asks, motioning with the razor to Cas' face. It really would be rather awful of him to leave Cas like this…

Cas doesn't hesitate as he nods his head in agreement. "Please," he says quietly, the intimacy of the whole situation increasing tenfold. Dean nods his head and steps in a bit closer, standing just between Cas' slightly spread legs.

He lines the razor up on one side of Cas' cheek, his eyes darting to Castiel's once to double check that he's okay with this before finally bringing it down in a clean stroke, all the way to the bottom of Cas' neck. He gives Cas a victorious smile as he lines the razor back up beside the line he's just made, Cas returning it with a shy smile of his own.

He swipes the razor down his cheeks a few more times, rinsing the blade out after every couple of strokes under the running water behind Cas. Each time he reaches for the spray he can feel the warmth of Cas' body heat, and it reminds him of how close he and Cas really are. When he's finally ready to do the tricky parts on the chin, he gently grips Cas' jaw in the hand he isn't wielding the razor in and turns it in the directions he needs it to go. Cas is pliant underneath him, completely trusting Dean to turn his head as he wishes, not even flinching as Dean strokes the razor down his face and over veins over and over again. Cas' eyes never leave Dean's face as he works, and it fills him with wonder to see how much trust Cas places in him.

When he's finally gotten to the last part, the small bit under Cas' bottom lip, he turns Cas' face back to look straight at his own, his fingers staying in place on his face as he brings the razor up to Cas' chin. "Okay, now go like this," he says quietly, sucking in his bottom lip to make the skin underneath it taut and pulled smooth. Cas does as he's told, sucking in his bottom lip as Dean carefully shaves off the last bit of Cas' beard.

Dean grins at him as he rinses off the razor for the last time, then grabs the washcloth beside the sink and runs it under the water for a second, still standing dangerously close to Cas between his legs. He brings the washcloth up to Cas' face and goes over the skin there, wiping away any excess shaving cream that's still hanging around. He also removes the tiny piece of toilet paper from the cut Cas gave himself, happy to see the small cut has stopped bleeding and is already starting to seal up.

Cas watches in silence the entire time, his eyes continuously flicking between Dean's mouth and his eyes. They're only a couple of inches away now as Dean's fingers linger on Cas' cheek, gently stroking the newly shaven skin.

"There," he says, his voice a bit rougher than he had intended. "All smooth." He wants more than ever to just lean in and take what he and Cas have been tiptoeing around for a while now, and really, what's stopping him? Why shouldn't he take what he wants? What he's wanted for a lot longer than he had realized? He's certain that Cas wouldn't have any resignations at all if he did, and judging by the way he's staring at Dean's mouth Dean's gonna' guess that he wants it just as bad as him.

He can feel himself slowly leaning in closer and closer, his mouth a mere inch from Cas', and he's so close…

And that's when Sam clears his throat from the doorway.

He and Castiel both jolt away from each other at the sudden intrusion, Cas straightening up and causing Dean to move back a couple of steps to give him space. Sam's looking between them, clearly very aware of what he's just interrupted, but he doesn't look entirely too broken up about it.

Fucking, Sammy Cock-block Winchester strikes again. God dammit.

He should be more embarrassed for being caught than irritated that he was interrupted, after all, he hasn't mentioned any of this to Sam yet. But he's never felt colder than when Cas steps away from him and goes to the linen closet to grab a towel to wipe his face. He turns his head to glare at Sam, but he's surprised to see that Sam's beat him to it.

And he does not look pleased.

"Dean," he says firmly, "can we talk in my room?" Cas looks between him and Dean nervously, his cheeks still flush with uncharacteristic embarrassment at being caught in such a state of intimacy. "Now," Sam reiterates, pulling Dean's attention back to him as he heads down the hallway for his room.

Dean flinches and follows, giving Cas a small apologetic smile as he leaves him alone in the bathroom to go follow his gigantic brother, and closes Sam's bedroom door behind them.

"You wanna' tell me what the hell's going on?" Sam throws out harshly the second Dean's shut the bedroom door behind him.

Dean turns an equally irritated expression towards Sam when he turns away from the now-closed door. "Excuse me?" he asks defensively. "How about you tell me what's going on," he adds, shoving a finger into Sam's chest.

Sam swipes his finger away easily, refusing to back down from Dean's attempt at intimidation. Sure, he may have ruined his and Cas' moment back there, but he told himself he's not going to let Dean hurt Cas like this, and he meant it. "Fine," he spits out. "I'll tell you what I think is going on." Dean rolls his eyes as Sam speaks. "What I think is going on is that you're about to ruin the best relationship you've ever had outside of the family."

Dean scoffs, his arms coming up across his chest as he stares Sam down. "Really. Is that what you call that? Because last time I checked, I was gonna' make everything better between us. We need this."

Sam's a bit taken back by complete lack of attempt to deny any of this, but he rolls with the punches as they come. "How is taking advantage of how much Castiel clearly likes you going to make things better between you guys, Dean? Trust me when I say that he doesn't want the same things that you do. It's not fair to him."

Dean looks surprisingly hurt for a second, but then the ire is back behind his eyes. "How the hell do you know what I want, Sam? Who says we don't want the same things?"

Now it's Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh yeah, because you've always been so interested in a long-term, assumingly permanent relationship with another man, right Dean?"

Dean chuckles darkly at Sam's sarcasm and rolls his eyes again. "Because Dean Winchester isn't allowed to have anything more meaningful than a one night stand, right?" His face falls back to Sam's, and there's suddenly so much pain behind his expression that Sam almost feels bad. "All he cares about his sex. Because Dean Winchester doesn't deserve to be happy. Dean Winchester can't realize that everything that could make him happy has been under his nose this whole time. Because Dean Winchester is such a man's man that he must have no idea what feelings are and he can never have them of his own."

Sam is speechless as Dean turns on his heel, growling in his throat as he reaches for the bedroom door to leave. He's obviously not expecting Sam to reach out and pull him away from the door as quick as he does though, and Sam can feel his apology bubbling out of him like their broken washing machine on the rinse cycle as the words "you've made a colossal mistake, you colossal idiot" ring through his mind.

"Look, I didn't mean- I mean, I didn't mean that you can't want those things, I just meant…" he says hurriedly looking around the room as he wills the right words to come to him. "Well you just have literally never said you wanted that before. Especially not with a guy… I just had to be sure that you weren't just-"

"I would never intentionally hurt Cas that way," Dean says thickly, tuning his head to the side as he huffs air out of his lungs like a bull.

Cas was right, Cas was entirely correct and Sam sucks.

Sam rolls his eyes for the tenth time in two minutes and sighs. "I had to make sure for Cas. He's my friend too, you know. He doesn't deserve to be led on when it's obvious how much he likes you."

Dean is still glaring at him, but one eyebrow goes up in a silent question. His face does seem to soften slightly after a few seconds, though. "Okay, so maybe you have good reason for assuming the worst," he says awkwardly, a rare admittance that he might have been wrong.

"Yeah," Sam laughs, feeling the tension in the room evaporate. "And the whole, Cas is a dude thing…"

"I know," Dean says, shutting his eyes and rubbing his face with his hand. "Okay, yeah I'll admit that's new to me too." The hand drops and he glues Sam with a more serious look. "But I ain't playing around here, Sam. Not this time."

Sam nods his head and gives him a tight smile, the guilt from earlier gone with the tension. "Good," he says honestly. "That's really good, Dean. Then I'm happy for you. Both of you."

Dean blushes a bit and turns away from Sam's gaze, back to the door. "Good," he agrees, opening the door to leave. "But, err… cock-block me one more time and see what happens, Sammy," he says seriously, turning his head over his shoulder to glare at Sam. "I fucking dare you."

And with that he's gone, leaving Sam alone in his room, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish.

A somewhat shorter chapter to tide you over until my next one is finished. Expect more Destiel fluffiness in the next chapters to follow

Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos!

-ArticulateFiction