Author's Note: I took a slightly more creative license with this one. I couldn't think of anything to write today, so I decided to go with a slightly more character-study thing, with Destiel from Sam's point of view with a bit more free-form and poetic style. An alternate title could also be "Assbutts in Love" or "A Study in Sam". Despite the weird format and "plot" structure, hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave a review if you liked it!

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Dean.

Cas.

Cas.

Dean.

The two of them drove Sam crazy.

And not in the annoying big-brother or really annoying parent aspects either.

Not the whole, "Here comes the airplane, Sammy" routine when he was feeling crappy or just too exhausted both mentally and physically to do anything except sleep, or "Do your research Sam" when they were on a hunt, along with "Stay back, Sammy, I don't want you hurt" or, "Holy shit, are you OK?!" when all he had gotten was a paper cut.

Though, he had to admit that was pretty infuriating too.

It wasn't the usurpation of the cherished shotgun seat (which Sam had taken 13 whole years trying to get at, and even still Dean would always sit in it right when he was about to open the door) or the burger wrappers littering the hotel room or the constant belittling of his 'rabbit food'.

(just because he didn't want to completely total his body doesn't mean he was even more of a freak).

No.

Not in the slightest.

What made his blood boil, what pissed and ticked him off all at the same time was one simple fact.

one.

simple.

FACT.

They were in love.

And they didn't admit it.

Wouldn't.

Couldn't.

(whatever their bs excuse was).

It was completely idiotic (idjitic, he corrected with a small smile). Even a little kid could pick it up.

But the fact that an angel of the freaking Lord and his older brother couldn't admit that they "like liked" each other was ridiculous.

And he knew they knew it.

He knew it.

The way they looked at each other for minutes on end, gazing into blue and green with some weird psychic connection that Sam couldn't even fathom (and they didn't fathom when he left the room after 3 minutes, only to come back like 10 minutes later and see them staring into their eyes still, until he cleared his throat and said something about the hunt, so why should he bother with it?).

The way they always seemed to be on each other's mind, comfortable in each other's own presence (okay, a little too comfortable. Cas really did have personal space issues), Cas even adopting some of Dean's mannerisms in order to fit in better.

The way whenever the other was hurt they would flip shit, killing the crap out of whatever did it before unleashing an emotional scene straight out of a chick flick and worrying for almost weeks on Dean's part, and making absolutely certain that nothing like that happened again.

He could go on, and on, and on, and on.

And what was most infuriating?

They were doing it again.

The eye thing.

Sighing resignedly, he picked up his laptop and went straight to his room.

(stupid assbutts in love).