On the seventh day of Christmas, Supernatural gave to me, seven homoerotic undertones (six crazy fangirls, FIVE BURNT CEILINGS, four bags of salt, three demons, two fake ID's, and an angel watching pornography).
Seven times. Seven times that Sam had caught the pair of them, Dean and Cas, staring at each other like that. There was lust in their eyes. It was homoerotic even. He'd jokingly made a bet with Bobby that if he told them to get a room, they would actually get a room. Bobby figured that it was a fairly safe bet. But on the other hand, he wouldn't quite mind if he lost it either. If he lost then that meant that they actually got over how stupid they were. They were all getting tired of the sexual tension between the pair. It was practically thick enough to cut with one of the machetes that they had in the trunk. Sam just wanted his brother to be happy. It was too much to take anymore. On the seventh time, Sam just rolled his eyes at them, continued to eat his salad, read his book, and told them to get a room.
As Sam suspected, they both went red, and Dean started sputtering about how he wasn't gay. However, Sam noticed that a bit after Cas left, Dean left too, head bent, not quite looking at Sam. Neither of them came back to the room until morning.
He called Bobby to tell him that he owned him twenty bucks as Dean was in the shower.
It really didn't take long for Dean to figure out that Sam knew about him and Cas. He was glad that Sam wasn't making a big deal out of it. Cas made him happy, and it was as simple as that.