Turns out Sam's claim about how messy the kitchen was is highly exaggerated, a fact Dean can't help but grumble about under his breath. When he sees the dirty mixing bowl and frying pan, a few flour-dusted measuring cups, and a bowl of eggshells on the counter, he figures this is something he can handle the old-fashioned way. Cas watches him walk to the sink and turn it on and then rolls up his shirt sleeves to help.
Just like last time they were in the kitchen together, Dean is hyper-aware of Cas's presence at all times—but, if anything, it feels less charged now than it was this morning. He's not on high-alert waiting for Cas to do something that crosses into the inappropriate-for-friends zone because he's already been there and bought the T-shirt. Nah, now that he thinks about it, Cas is much more a collectible coffee mug kinda guy.
A part of him wonders if he should be freaking out about the fact that he's stopped freaking out as much—but, for now, that just seems like too much effort.
Plus, he's rapidly discovering he likes this new version of Cas that has emerged since breakfast—the one whose neutral expression is less frowny than it was before. The one who is not only matching Dean passive-aggressive-insult for passive-aggressive-insult, but, surprisingly, also joke for joke. Seeing him happier is making Dean happier and if a happier Dean is also naturally a bit flirty, it doesn't have to mean anything if he doesn't want it to. Hell, he flirts with his (admittedly female) friends all the time.
When Sam finds them thirty minutes later, Dean is in the middle of prodding Cas to summarize other movies they've watched together. Besides calling Ghostbusters "the one where the hunters wear strange backpacks and fight a marshmallow," Tombstone is "the one with guns and tuberculosis", and Star Wars is "the one in space where some uses of grace are either 'light' or 'dark' and the main villain needs a ventilator". He then called Indiana Jones "the one with the monkey chasing scene" by which, Dean realized with horror, the angel meant Crystal Skull.
"How did you even see that one?" he demands from Cas. "I purposefully didn't show you that shit."
"I am perfectly capable of accessing movies on my own, Dean. And sometimes I like to pick the ones you expressly mention disliking just to see what all the fuss is about. Speaking of which, The Notebook is actually quite touching."
"It's boring and depressing as all fuck."
"I know I don't have much experience with sexual intercourse, but isn't it supposed to be neither of those things?"
Sam can't help but choke out a laugh, causing both men to turn toward him suddenly, hands dripping with soap and water. Dean feels his cheeks heat up. "Pizza?" Sam offers, lifting up the boxes in his hands and shaking them slightly.
Dean opts to wipe his hands over the back of his pants while Cas, after watching Dean do so, reaches for a towel instead.
"So, what have you guys been up to?" Sam asks when they're all sitting down. There's a slight hesitancy to his voice that means he's worried Dean might still be annoyed with him.
"Just your Cosmo quiz shit," Dean admits, breathing hot steam out of his mouth like a dragon as he does so. "Haven't had time to do your assigned reading yet, in case that's what you were fetching for."
"No! I mean, I'm glad you're still doing the questions. A bit surprised, but glad. Where are you guys?"
"Five more to go," Cas answers before Dean can swallow down his bite. "Six if you count the one Dean skipped over and hoped I wouldn't notice."
Dean swallows a little too quickly. "I, uh…hoped you wouldn't notice," he offers, weakly.
Cas turns to Sam, curiously. "I thought I just said that?"
"You did. I was a witness," Sam promises, shaking pepper flakes onto his slice as he relaxes into the moment. "What question did he skip?"
Dean coughs to try to stop anyone from talking, but Cas ignores him. "What roles do love and affection play in your life?"
Sam snorts, "Yeah, I can see why he would avoid that one. It involves talking about feelings."
Dean glares a warning at Cas not to say what he's thinking of saying. The older Winchester may be…adjusting somewhat, but not in front of his brother.
Speaking of Sam, he's angled himself in Dean's direction, hands steepled over his plate. "So, Dean, what roles do love and affection play in your life?" He sounds like one of those infomercials that play at 3 in the morning asking you to donate money to some online church.
"I, you know, lo-like things and am...uh…affected by stuff." Of course, Sam's laughing at him. Dean points an accusing finger, "I went to hell for 40 years for you, punk."
"Yes, Dean," Sam says, still chuckling while picking up his slice. "I know you're more of an 'acts of service' kind of guy rather than a 'words of affirmation' type."
Dean gapes. "…Was that English?"
"Yes," Cas responds, simply.
"Come on, Dean, you've heard about love languages," Sam insists, with a lot more surety than Dean thinks he has a right to. "It was all over the internet a while back—it's actually quite an interesting way of exploring the role of communi-"
Dean stops him right there. "Seriously, how do you have the time to find all this self-help crap? Cas doesn't sleep and he manages not to get that desperate for something to do."
"Dean…" Cas warns, but Sam seems non-perturbed.
"If it's such crap, then why are you still answering the questions? Voluntarily?" he asks.
The two brothers narrow their eyes at each other.
"Eat your damn pizza," Dean orders, finally.
"That's what I thought," Sam responds, with a smirk.
And yet, in spite of that rough start, lunch is pretty nice, actually. Cas and Sam get into a discussion about which popular superstitions have a real basis—everything from broken mirrors to spilled milk.
Turns out 'step on a crack and you'll break your mother's back' comes from vengeful fairies that live in 'between' spaces like doorways and windows and, sometimes, the gaps in sidewalks. They don't like people stomping on the veil between this world and theirs, so, at midnight, when the whole world lingers 'between' night and day, they sometimes go after the families of those they think wronged them. As if Dean needs more reasons to dislike those little fuckers.
Eventually, though, everyone starts finishing up. Dean stands to relieve the sudden tightness in his waistband, combining pizza slices into one box so he can begin breaking down the leftover cardboard while Sam clears plates. Cas hangs around, uncertainly.
"Hey, why don't you go, er…" Back to my bedroom sounds kind of weird. "Wait for me," Dean says instead, which is hardly better. Cas nods and turns, and Dean catches a glimpse of Jimmy Novak's back muscles through the thin material of Cas's dress shirt. Practically naked, just like he said. But that's not something to think about right now.
Instead, he waits until he is sure the angel is gone, then clears his throat. Sam sticks his head out from where he'd been rearranging the contents of the refrigerator. "Yeah, Dean. What's up?"
"I just wanted to say that, uh…"
Sam looks at him, hopefully.
"God, you're annoying," Dean says, almost with relief. "And a first-class nerd. And you spend more time in the bathroom than a girl. And your farts really are toxic. But, uh…despite all that stuff, I…you know…" he shoves the cardboard into the recycling bin. "Love you, Sammy."
Sam's eyes widen and get a bit of a glassy sheen to them and, yup, this is every bit as horrible as he thought it would be. "Did you just say you love me?" Sam asks and this is why they have emotional conversations in the Impala—where there's an excuse not to look at each other.
"You asked a question at lunch and I'm answering it. Just don't expect me to say it again. I swear that word's got an aftertaste. And you can't go dying now on me either just because…well, for any reason, you hear me?"
"Yes, I hear you, Dean," Sam promises. "Loud and clear."
Dean just barely dodges a hug as he escapes into the hallway.
