Castiel nudged the violin case over the cushions towards his big brother. He'd known that it had been hidden beneath the couch- but he'd lived here in this apartment with Nick for four years while he'd been going to college. He knew all Nick's little hidey holes, his habits, his temperaments.

"Sam told me that you still play."

"I tell you that I completely screwed the pooch, went and fell for a straight boy- which I remember you telling me when you were younger is the absolute worst possible thing in the world that anyone can do- and you want me to play you a concerto?"

"It always used to make you feel better." Over anxious child that he could still be at times. "Like a tattooed, Sherlock."

Nick looked at the case, then at his brother, then at the ceiling. He was hung over, his head was throbbing, his stomach threatening to toss the bitter tea that he'd been trying so hard to keep down, his fingertips numb.

Castiel quietly popped the clasps on the case and edged it close enough that it bumped into Nick's leg.

"Really? You don't want to tell me what an idiot I am, or give me horrible advice?"

"When you feel better." His little brother promised. "You won't listen to anything I tell you right now anyways."

"I'm not going to feel better about this."

"Then at least play to distract me from saying something that will only make you mad."

"Go ahead and just say it, I won't get mad at you." Nick was already braced for it, for whatever Castiel needed to tell him.

"I know that I'm on the short list of people that you won't punch in the face, but you'll still get mad."

It was a very, very short list- but Cassy was just about at the top of it. So Nick opened the case and gently hefted his violin, trying not to pay attention to his brother's anticipatory wiggle on the far end of the couch.

He took his time tuning up, slow and careful, testing to see if the noise was going to make his headache any worse. If it counted for anything at this point, the aspirin that his brother had supplied seemed to be taking hold and the general pains of his body seemed to be holding steady.

The song he played was slow and careful; he'd only just started figuring out how to play it a few weeks back. And it wasn't exactly the type of music that typically readily has violin sheet music for. He wished, he wished so hard, that playing didn't make him feel a bit better.

Castiel was an ideal audience, he sat so still and quiet and once the song found its end he clapped encouragingly. "I was hoping for some Verdi, but that was just as lovely."

Nick found himself smiling and he hid it by playing with his bow. "It was clumsy, and it still needs a lot of work. But thank you."

"Is… there any reason you've started teaching yourself a David Bowie song? I thought you didn't like him."

Did he have to actually answer that?

"Because the one time I played for Sam he asked if I knew any Bowie… he told me he liked Life on Mars… so I figured out how to play it." There was possibly no less incriminating answer that he could give. But there also wasn't a more honest answer either. He tucked away his violin, too embarrassed to play another song.

Castiel took the closed case from him, hiding it back beneath the couch, then taking both their mugs to the kitchen and rinsing them out.

"Well, I've had a big day." He dragged himself to his feet and looked longingly down the hall towards his bed, which inevitably would be more comfortable than the floor had been.

"Do you not want to talk about it then?"

"I never did." He promised. "I just needed to vent."

"You told me that you and Sam are- what did you call it?"

"Friends with benefits." He knew that bit of a lie was going to complicate things the moment that he told his brother. It was literally the only thing that he and Sam weren't at this point. That made it a positively dirty, dirty lie. He hated lying to Castiel. Normal people were bastards. His youngest brother was not normal people, and for whatever stupid reason Nick had always felt a need to try and keep him safe.

"Friends with… benefits." He looked positively unamused by that particular title. "And that you have romantic interests in him-"

"Oh my god, Cassy. That is not what I said." He ran his hands through his hair.

"You didn't have to. It's obvious." Castiel kept a notable distance, lingering in the kitchen despite there being nothing for him to do in there. "We've all known since Christmas."

Since Christmas?

No. That couldn't be right.

"I'm going to bed." It had been a few hours since he'd completely botched a perfectly good plan. It was good to know that he could keep it going indefinitely. "Let yourself out."

Despite the fact that Castiel had keys, he didn't leave and lock the door. He just trailed after Nick. "I don't think that you should be left alone right now."

"I'm fine." He fell into bed, face first, just wanting today to be done. Playing his violin had made him feel marginally better, but only for a handful of minutes- because it was just music and didn't have any special ability to erase the fact that he'd moaned when Sam kissed him, or the horror that such an act had caused.

He debated the merits of looking for another drink but he wasn't sure if his liver could handle any more punishment tonight. Well, that and Castiel had managed to follow him all the way to this end of the house and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

"Go home, Cassy."

"Absolutely not."

"Then at least come lay down. I'm not going to be able to sleep with you just sitting there being a creep."

"I won't sleep in your bed with you. You're sick and I don't want to catch it. Also, we are not teenagers anymore. It would be strange."

"Then fucking take the couch. Or go home. I'm an adult and don't need a babysitter." It wasn't his brother's fault that he was in such a terrible mood, and no, it wasn't fair to take it out on Cas either, but his baby brother was a convenient target in this moment- and Nick was all about taking advantage of the moment.

"You may be an adult but you certainly aren't acting like it."

Nick rolled over, hugging his pillow to his head.

"I don't see how asking him for a real relationship would be such a bad thing. He seems like a really nice boy and he makes you happy… most of the time. He's also a fairly rational person, more than you are being-"

"You can't just tell someone something like that, Cas."

"I'm only being honest and you are very difficult, right now more than usual, which is kind of impressive actually."

"Not that." He looked up from his pillow, exasperated. "I mean you can't just tell someone that you've gone and got feelings for them when you know damn well that they don't feel the same way."

"Feelings?" Castiel raised a very dubious eyebrow. "We never knew you had feelings. I'll have to call the whole family and tell them."

Nick sat up on his elbows, wanting a better position to defend himself from. "You're mean when I've been drinking. I forgot about that."

"Well you're irrational and stubborn and I don't like watching you treat yourself like this. You're being an assbutt- and I'm sorry, but someone needs to tell you that." He managed to sound mean and apologetic all in the same breath. Castiel was fairly amazing like that.

"Now, I understand why you and Sam agreed to having a casual, physical relationship. It's not uncommon for people to engage in that sort of behavior, but I'm fairly certain that it's something that you're supposed to do with strangers, not with someone that you intend to be friends with. I'm not even sure if you're allowed to see them the next morning, much less on a regular basis."

"I told you, Cas. Friends… benefits." Though right now it felt a hell of a lot more like friends with penalties. "It's a common thing. Ask any of the cool kids."

Problem was, the more Nick thought about that words that he'd shared with his brother the more he came to realize that the only part of it that had been a lie was the sex part. All he would have had to do was add 'pretend to' before the 'sleep together' part and he had actually told Castiel everything.

It had almost felt good to say it out loud.

Almost.

Mostly it was just terrifying to actually know what to call it. A name for this sickness inside him. It didn't help in the slightest, but hell, it had a name.

He'd come this far though, neck deep and still sinking. It was the least he could do to just sit there and listen to whatever advice Castiel could come up with. It certainly wouldn't make things any worse than they already were.

"I know that you're just making that up. You can't be that intimate with someone and still stay only friends. You're lying to yourself at that point."

"People are capable of having meaningless sex."

"But that's not what the two of you are doing."

A statement that was painfully true for more than one reason.

"So, for the second time I'm going to tell you, you should tell him how you feel."

"No."

"What's the worst that could happen, Nick? He'll tell you he just wants to stay friends? Then you'll be in exactly the same place that you are right now."

"No, we wouldn't be, because he would leave. That's the part you aren't getting, Cassy."

Castiel took a slow breath, eyes narrowing. "You are always so sure of yourself. And you're the one who's dating Sam, so maybe you're right, maybe he would just leave. But is this really so much better than being alone again?" He didn't gesture around the apartment like he could have, he just gave a pointed nod to where Nick had curled back up around his pillow.

He was too tired, and sore, and hung over to defend himself any longer. And Castiel was wrong. He usually was in matters like this. Repressed little number cruncher that he was had never been in any kind of relationship to speak of. It was like a turtle trying to give a bird pointers on flying.

"Just go home, Cassy. I won't go near the liquor cabinet again tonight. I promise. Ok?"

Resignation drew down Castiel's shoulders, making him look even smaller, defeated. "You're not going to tell him… ever, are you?"

"As respectfully as I can say this to you, because I know you mean well- oh hell no. And don't you dare go tell him for me. I don't need any help."

Castiel got to his feet, coming to the head of the bed to pull the blankets a little too firmly around Nick's shoulders. "You are perfectly capable of keeping yourself miserable without any assistance."

"Damn right I am." Nick was an adult. He could crush his own hopes all by himself. Thank you very much.

Leaning down, Castiel pressed a very small and careful kiss just above Nick's right eye. "A very good friend of mine gave me some very good advice a few weeks back. I'm going to pass it on to you because it seems like the kind of language that might actually make it thought that thick head of yours. Life is too short- so for fuck sake, do what makes you happy. Alright?"

Nick lay there quietly, looking up at someone who in his mind had never really stopped being a little kid- despite the ability to drive, and the college degree, and the stubble. He could count on one finger the amount of times that he'd actually heard his brother swear. It was startling if nothing else.

It felt like being tucked in and then berated by a complete stranger.

"I'm going to sleep out on the couch." Castiel kept on talking because Nick hadn't found anything more to add to this conversation. "Mostly because it's late and I don't like driving at night- and not because I don't trust you. Even though you're a notorious liar, and a drunk, and self destructive, and have the emotional maturity of a blueberry muffin, and I'm terrified that if I leave you alone like this the next time I see you will be in the hospital. By the way, I hate that you gave me power of attorney over your medical decisions because over the past six years I've had to come and tell the doctors three times to keep you on life support and I don't think I have it in me to do it a fourth time."

Nick pulled his brother down into a tight hug, squeezing him until neither of them could get enough air. Castiel squeaked indelicately and reluctantly they let go.

"I told you. It's not like that this time." Nick promised. "I'll figure a way out of this mess with my dignity and heart still intact. No trips to the hospital. No drunken middle of the night phone calls. No drowning myself in pity and alcohol."

"I found you an hour ago, unconscious on the floor spooning with an empty bottle of vodka."

Nick couldn't argue with such painfully clear facts. "That's fair. But I promise not to do it again."

Castiel looked at him, long and hard, no sympathy at all in his dark eyes. "I'll be sleeping on the couch." He patted Nick's chest, stole a blanket and left the room, turning down the lights behind him.

Nick pulled his remaining blankets up over his head and thought how lovely it was to have a brother who trusted him so much. His phone went off in his pocket and he had to fumble like an awkward fool to dig it out.

It was a text, from Castiel.

-I will make you pancakes in the morning if you behave yourself.

Nick looked at it for a long while before typing back a simple 'i love you too' and then cradling his phone against his chest. He would never tell anyone, not even himself, but he was rather grateful that there was someone here tonight. Because if there wasn't he would be going and getting out a fresh bottle to finish what he'd started.

Staying on this side of sober he pushed through the aches and those melancholy feelings that had less to do with the man who'd left and more to do with the man out on the couch.

It would all be easier if Nick were a better man.

He made himself look back at his phone. It was almost four in the morning. The sun would be up soon. Either he'd fallen asleep at some point since burying himself under the blankets, or his brother had been working very late into the night before swinging by.

Either way his head had finally started to feel clearer.

Before he had time to second guess himself he sent a quick text to Sam. Then he sent three more, just sort of rambling through his half conscious thoughts. It was the only solution that he could come up with.

They could just pretend it hadn't happened.

They could move past Nick's accidental physical confession.

Most importantly, if Sam agreed, then Nick could still keep him. For a few more weeks at least. And he couldn't really ask for more than that.

Well, he could. He was greedy after all, but he was also realistic and knew that Sam would be getting tired of him soon enough. A few more weeks were all that Nick was going to get, and he could be ok with that.

Such cheerful thoughts.

Definitely a good thing that Castiel had decided to stay.

And he did fall asleep that time, startling awake later when his phone vibrated against his chest like a miniature defibrillator, but then the phone slid off to lose itself in the millions of folds of blankets and Nick was left dazed. He dug his way out, wincing at the golden edges of light liming his tightly drawn curtains. He eventually found the phone and Sam's words. Salvation in a single question.

-pretend what never happened?

Sam didn't care that Nick had reacted wrong to this whole thing. That he'd slipped up and basically told Sam with one slow and very damning kiss that he thought of the kid as much more than a friend.

Just like that.

So easy.

The kiss never was.

They were back on track with only two weeks left of this horrible arrangement.

Nick knew that he should feel happy. Instead he stumbled to the bathroom and knelt on the floor, dry heaving up his empty stomach until Castiel appeared behind him and started gently patting his back.

"You drank far too much last night." His little brother told him in a way that was almost sympathetic.

And that must be it. So Nick nodded along, because any other reason for a reaction like this wasn't going to be one that Nick would be able to live with.