The Cluster-you-know-what of Human Relations.

Dean, just relax... Just a little. It's Cas, man... He won't hurt you. Relax...

Yeah... Yeah, maybe. Maybe just a little...

Dean closed his eyes, despite his instincts. The weight of Cas' hands around his throat was warm and heavy and he breathed out a sigh. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he felt Castiel shift. He felt a warm breath on his lips and he nearly gasped. He leaned up ever so slightly, feeling the warmth of Castiel coming close and then -

and then he heard the distinct rumble of a '67 Chevy Impala outside in the parking lot.

And he'd never hated that car so much in his entire life.

Correction - he hated Sam. If Sam were canonized he'd be the Patron Saint of Cockblocking.

Dean felt Castiel go still, and hesitate before sliding his hands away. Which Dean greatly regretted. And when Dean opened his eyes, Cas was gone, and he was left cold and all worked up and instantly embarrassed. Mortified, was probably more accurate.

Now that it was over, it sank in how friggin' weird the last however long they were doing that was... wait how long were they...? He bolted upright, glancing at his watch and trying to stop his heart from exploding from the WHAT THE FUCK? screaming inside his head. However long that out of the blue rub-down was, it was friggin' weird.

Dean took a deep breathe before noticing Cas reappear across the room once more, landing clumsily, looking oddly ruffled and sitting down on the couch as if he'd forgotten how to do so. Dean could see him try to regain his normal composure, but he was struggling, and something deep inside him liked that.

Though he couldn't quite elaborate on why...

Let's not go there right now.

Agreed.

Dean heard Sam's key in the door and got up from the chair which he now realized was hard and uncomfortable and kind of debauched. He started literally shaking himself out of it. He took a deep breath and shook his head and arms, and swiped his hands down his own chest and torso, as if trying to wipe the feeling of Cas off of his body. And he told his stupid heart to just calm the Hell down.

Sam entered, dressed in his FBI suit and carrying a bag of take-out. He gave Dean a hello nod and Dean reciprocated as normally as he could, forcefully shoving down the exchange with Castiel that still had his heart pumping.

"Anything new?" he asked, keeping his voice even and light, and heading to the table where Sam had dropped the food.

"Oh yeah," Sam responded, folding his suit jacket on the bed and pulling off his tie.

"Really?" Dean's interest was piqued by Sam's tone.

Sam glanced across the room calling, "Cas, food."

Cas looked over at him and nodded, appearing beside the table before Sam could blink.

"Well what did you learn?" Dean asked.

Sam sat down, straightening out the food in front of him, "I've been at the hospital all day talking to the doctors and nurses who dealt with the Ryerson kid. They all seemed to be holding back on me but I got one nurse to tell me the truth. She was pretty freaked."

"What'd you threaten to shoot her in the kneecaps?" Dean joked, sliding his chair a little closer to Cas' without realizing he'd done so.

Sam realized. He focused instead on the case at hand, "She wasn't scared of me, Dean. She's afraid of what's happening around her. It's like the whole town is throwing their every inhibition to the wind and letting their id completely take over."

"Interesting theory, Freud."

"Yeah well, it's worse than that."

"Worse than a town full of Charlie Sheens?"

"The animalistic honesty doesn't stop with them. The nurse said that the Ryerson kid wouldn't shut up the whole time he was there. She went in to take his vitals and he looked her straight in the face and said he was sorry for her that she couldn't have a baby, since he knew how much she wanted to be a mom."

"Wow. Personal. What's he a stalker too?"

"Could be. Except the nurse says nobody knew that but her. She hadn't even told her husband yet. She'd only just found out that week." Sam had both Dean and Cas' full attention now. He continued, "She wasn't the only one he freaked out either. After suggesting the nurse look into adoption, he also told one of the cops guarding him that if he wanted to leave the force and go be a longshoreman then he should just do it. And he told his doctor that if he wanted the drugs in the lock-up so badly, he'd help him break in because he'd always wanted to pick a lock."

"This kid is pretty damn intuitive, huh?" Dean asked, floored by the new intel.

"Yeah, and he's not the only one. The nurse said that a couple of their patients have been unusually clairvoyant in the past week or so. But no one's been talking to the cops because everyone's either embarrassed, or they end up just the same - stoned and a mind-reader and way too honest."

"What the Hell is this?" Dean shook his head in frustration.

Castiel seemed deep in thought as if searching for a way to answer that question.

Sam shook his head indicating he had no clue. "For whatever reason, the victims affected are tuned into the true desires of the people around them. And what's better, they're not just tuned in, they feel the need to force these other people to acknowledge it and give in just like them. And a lot of 'em are."

"So, we got a town full of people who can see through each other's bullshit and want to Vegas-out on us. We we don't know how to stop it. And we don't know what's causing it. Ever think maybe they're just tired of being civilized?"

"Dean," Sam chastised, shooting him a patented be serious look.

"No, no, listen - society puts all kinds of constraints on people. What if these people can't hack the stress of being the Cleavers anymore and just decide to do what they want instead?"

"So you're a sociologist now?"

"Shut up. I'm just saying, living that cookie-cutter life... it's more restraining than you think. You have to think about every thing you do. Be normal, whatever that is. It's friggin' exhausting. Maybe whatever this is, is feeding off that."

Sam noticed Cas give him a wondering gaze, but pretended he didn't see it. Instead he looked at Dean curiously, "Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing, that's just... very astute. Kind of... deep."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"But I think you might be right," Sam stated. "Until we can find out what this thing is getting out of all this, we're screwed."

"Time to call Bobby," Dean suggested. And he got up from the table to do that, meeting Cas' eyes for a split-second before turning his back on him, his heart fluttering just from that glance.

Fifteen minutes later, "Time to hit the books," Bobby suggested.

Sam cracked open his laptop, hoping Bobby would call back soon with an answer. There was all kinds of new tension with Dean and Cas and he couldn't wait for something else to do. He needed them to find a lead so he could get out of there.

Bobby hadn't called, not all night. And now Sam had to get out of the motel before he committed homicide.

Dean and Cas were skirting each other like they were doing some sort of bizarre music-less tango. They were like two male lions circling before an epic throw-down. When one looked away, the other stole the opportunity to gaze, unnoticed.

Or so they thought.

Sam noticed. He noticed everything - the staring, the attempts at being close to each other without ever being quite close enough, the way they were being nice to each other. Dean was keeping his disparaging quips to himself and Castiel hadn't made a single observational comment about how Sam and Dean were somehow less capable due to their measly mortal aptitude. Instead they were being nothing but nice. Polite even.

It was making Sam want to hurl.

It had been that way for days now, almost a week. A week of Thanks Cas, and You're very observant Dean, and Hey, wanna watch TV or something? and I don't understand the purpose of... and Don't worry man, I'll explain it to you.

And Sam's personal favorite, Hey, quit leaving me alone with him Sam, I'm not his damn babysitter.

He wanted to grab his brother and smack him in the face with the "I know you're a big old Cas-loving homo! so give it up and quit being a dick!" truth.

But he held it in...

He should be canonized for this crap. Maybe he could be the Patron Saint of Unbelievable Patience.

Probably not - Sam was ready to combust.

He'd never wanted to walk in on his brother doing the nasty with anyone, let alone another dude, especially a dude Sam would have to look in the eye later, but every time he was on his way back to the motel he found himself praying he'd open the door and they'd be all over each other. Because the sexual tension and the painfully obvious chemistry between them was practically palpable, and to a point that Sam literally didn't comprehend how nothing had happened yet.

They had him on the edge of his seat with anticipation from the second Cas had agreed to stay. He was sure it would be a matter of hours if not minutes... but nope. The denial was still holding strong. It was incredible really.

And every time they touched or they smiled at each other Sam was ready to take his cue and flee the scene to leave them alone. But they always shut the moment down as fast as they could.

By the next morning, Sam was so frustrated at their refusal to just let it be, that watching Cas watch Dean brush his teeth and dance to Free's Alright Now on the radio as if the spectacle of Dean in his natural habitat was the most fascinating thing that he'd ever in his thousands of years of existence had the pleasure to witness, Sam just finally snapped.

He grabbed his laptop, jacket and messenger bag full of loose-leaf research and stormed out with a loud and overly abrasive, "Going somewhere I can concentrate. To, you know, solve the case. I'll be back whenever I feel like it - not that you'll miss me!"

Dean and Cas watched the door slam behind him and Cas looked to Dean for an explanation. Dean shrugged and started playing air guitar to the radio, toothbrush still hanging in his mouth.

Castiel's head tilted to the side as he took in the sight of such odd behavior.

Dean was happy, or content at least, seemingly for no reason. And he hadn't mentioned the line they'd crossed yesterday, which was just as well for Castiel because every time he thought about it, which was every time he thought at all, he found himself at a complete loss for words. Despite the general fluttering nervousness he had around Dean now, he still couldn't wait for them to be alone. He found he didn't mind at all that Sam appeared to be frustrated. It afforded him more time to study Dean and figure out what exactly it was he felt for the man. He observed Dean's absentminded attempt to sing and brush his teeth simultaneously.

Castiel could almost laugh... which would be bizarre in and of itself. Cas realized that he was happy... just to be with him. Even amidst such absurdity.

The absurdity was, of course, one of Dean's oldest tricks. He could always cover his vulnerability with a joke. It was his go-to.

When Castiel was around, there was a lot of joking.

Sam stormed down the street, throwing his bag over his shoulder and shaking his head. Those two were impossible. Impossible! Now he knew why Dean had been acting like such an erratic asshat for the past months. This whatever he had with Castiel was an all-consuming emotional clusterfuck. How they'd been putting up with this without snapping for so long, years now, Sam had no idea. Apparently Dean and Cas were the Olympic Heavyweight Champions of denial. Well, Sam wasn't that kind of guy. He liked to get it all out there so it could be dealt with properly and they could make the most out of whatever situation they were in.

He considered himself fairly well-adjusted... considering. Anyway, he was better adjusted that Dean at least. Not that that was saying much.

It would take a lifetime of study to establish why these two idiots would go to such idiotic lengths to stay apart even though it was so obvious that they should be together. They needed each other, and it hadn't been just for the job in a long time. Even with all the water under the bridge, they were still connected more deeply than Sam could stomach sometimes. And watching them, two people who knew distinctly well what it was to be lonely, not take the chance, throw it away, was unmeasurably frustrating.

And Sam had no intention of putting up with it for much longer. He'd been avoiding talking to Dean about it out-right, knowing how is brother would react... but come on! He was trying to stay on the periphery but this was getting ridiculous.

Dean and Cas were running out of time for closeted affection and subtlety. That was for damn sure.

Remember when I said this was going to be short and sweet...?

Does it count as a lie if you didn't know at the time that it was completely untrue? Nah, I don't think so.