AN: The response was so great for "Not Dying Today" and the story kept going in my head so I just had to do a sequel. Also, I wanted to get it out before Season 5 starts 'cause once my stuff get's jossed it's hard for me to keep going :) The title, like all of my titles, comes from a Tori Amos song.
In the beginning, Sam found the whole situation, Dean and Cas being in love with each other, and being oblivious to it, rather hysterical. The more he watched them, though, the less funny it seemed. They still made him smile, but it was affection, not hilarity.
Occasionally, he felt a pang of jealousy. The ease with which they fit together, at least when the sexual tension wasn't clouding everything, well, it reminded Sam of what he had with Jess.
Since their day trapped together Sam and Cas had become friends and, while Dean never commented on it, Sam could tell he was pleased. When Sam and Cas ganged up to tease him a slight twinkle in his eye belied his gruff reactions. The three of them started working together, really working together, and pretty soon it was hard to remember a time when Cas wasn't there.
At first, Sam decided not to broach the subject with Dean or to Cas. It wasn't really any of his business and, besides, Sam knew his brother. Dean needed to come to terms with this on his own. Dragging him out of the angel-loving-closet was likely to end in bloodshed.
After a particular fierce battle with some demons (and angels) in Massachusetts the three weary hunters pulled into the Hi-Dee-Ho Motel and exited the Impala. Dean sent Sam in to get them a room and immediately set about inspecting Cas for injuries. Sam just shook this head and chuckled inwardly.
Like a frickin' mother hen.
"One room please" Sam said to the rather attractive girl behind the check-in counter.
"How many occupants?"
"Three."
"Ok, you want two queens or two queens and a rollaway? I think we have one left."
Sam glanced over his shoulder. Dean had Castiel's face in his hands as he examined a cut over his eye.
"Two queens will be fine" he said with a smile.
After that, Sam reported at motel after motel that no rollaways were available. Sometimes the rooms had couches though.
It wasn't like Sam wanted them to start having sex with him in the room or anything creepy like that. No, it was more that he quickly realized that everyone slept much better that way. Dean must have too, because he kept sending Sam to register them and never said a word about the accommodations.
Seemed like every time Dean and Cas slept across the room from each other one or both of them had nightmares. The really freaky part though, was that whoever wasn't having the nightmare would somehow know. He'd wake, stumble across the room, and rouse the other man. Sometimes they spoke about the dreams in hushed whispers. That's usually when Sam would stir, the snippets of conversation tugging at his consciousness, but he always fell quickly back to sleep.
One night, Cas had a particular awful nightmare. He was whimpering loud enough that Sam woke just as Dean reached Castiel's bed from the couch. Sam blinked his bleary eyes at his brother illuminated in the moonlight but did not move or draw attention to his wakefulness.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook him, "Cas. Cas, wake up!" he whispered.
Cas jerked and shot straight up. "Dean!" he gasped, hands grabbing wildly at the man's shoulders.
"I'm here Cas," he said quietly, tenderly rubbing the angel's arms as he tried to catch his breath.
"I'm, I'm fine Dean" Cas murmured.
"No, you're not, you're shaking. Take deep breaths." Dean instructed as he shifted closer to him, his arms curling around the angel's back and pulling him into an awkward embrace.
After a few moments, Sam could see that Castiel's breathing had returned to normal and Dean pulled back to look at him.
"Was it the archangels?"
"No. Hell."
Sam saw Dean set his jaw and his eyes tightened. Dean had confided once, when he was spectacularly drunk, that he was afraid that Cas would go to Hell for his disobedience. It's all my fault Sammy…
Sam suspected though, that that Cas was more worried about Dean ending up in hell than himself.
"Scoot over Cas."
After that night, it didn't matter if there was a couch available, Dean and Cas shared a bed.
Nobody said anything.
Sam figured it was only a matter of time after that. That before he knew it, he'd be having to get his own motel room and a PFLAG sticker for his laptop.
But, as the weeks ticked by and nothing happened Sam started to get frustrated. He didn't know how much longer he could tolerate sitting around watching the two of them brood and alternately staring at each other longingly—longingly!
They were driving him nuts.
It came to a head one night at a crappy dive bar in Bloomington, Illinois. Lucifer had gone to ground and the rest of the apocalypse was apparently on spring break. So, the boys were in town on an old fashioned hunt.
It was ISU rush week so the bar was packed with buxom sorority sisters, the sorts of giggly girls Dean used to be all over. Undercover as newspaper reporters, the three of them were chatting up the coeds to try to get skinny on some mysterious deaths at the Alpha Chi Omega house.
At least, Sam was trying.
Flirting with drunken 20-somethings was usually an easy evening out. Between Dean's charm and Sam's earnest demeanor, they never had any difficulty getting information (and, frankly, a good lay). It was a sign of how comfortable Sam had gotten with Cas that he hadn't really thought about the practical aspects of him joining them on such an endeavor.
"Here Dude, put these on," Dean said handing Cas a pair of his jeans and a cotton shirt.
Cas frowned at the garments in his hands, "Is there something wrong with my clothing?"
"No! Er, I mean, you look too… like, grown up, to be hitting on college chicks" Dean stammered, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
Cas continued to look confused.
"What Dean's trying to say, is that you might be mistaken for a professor and that will make the students reluctant to talk to you. It's better to blend in, pretend to be students" Sam explained, a smile teasing the corners of his lips.
Cas nodded and went to change.
A few minutes later he exited the bathroom, "Is this acceptable?"
The black long-sleeved cotton tee was just a little tight and Dean's jeans were just a little big, so his boxers were peeking out, but, Sam had to admit, the guy looked good.
"Erm, yeah" Dean said with a gulp.
Oh, for the love of God!
"Almost perfect," Sam said as he crossed the room. He grabbed a belt out of his bag and handed it to Dean. "Help him with that. I'm just gonna brush my teeth and we can go."
He strode off to the bathroom with a smirk leaving Dean staring stupidly at the strap of leather in his hands.
The angle of the bathroom mirror meant Sam could watch Dean helping Cas put on his belt, watched his hands lingering just a little too long…
Seriously, my life is really pathetic.
He spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth. "Ok, let's go."
When they reached The Rusty Nail it took them a good five minutes to fight through the crowd to the bar and another 10 to actually get three beers.
Sam started canvassing the bar, looking for three approachable women. A petite redhead with a pixie cut caught his attention, she was staring at Castiel. Sam nudged Dean and jerked his head in her direction. Dean followed his gaze and saw how intently pixie-girl was staring at Cas and grinned. Sam and Dean both turned back to look at her and realized she had two friends with her.
Perfect.
Then the pixie, still leering at Cas, licked her lips.
Actually licked her fucking lips like he was a big juicy steak.
Sam huffed a surprised laugh and glanced over a Dean who's grin faltered and eyes narrowed.
Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed an oblivious Cas by the elbow. "Come on Cas, time to make some new friends."
"Hi, I'm Sam. This is my brother Dean and our friend Cas."
The pixie giggled and finally pried her eyes from Castiel. "This is Melanie," she said gesturing to the tall brunette to her left, "and Heather" gesturing to the blond on her right. "I'm Rachel" she said as she stuck her hand out to Cas.
Oh crap, thought Sam, remembering when he'd first tried to shake Castiel's hand.
Cas had come a long way since then though, he easily took her hand and smiled.
"Leah was tender eyed; but Rachel was beautiful and well favored" he said.
Wait, what? What the fuck was that?
Rachel just laughed, "Genesis 29:17! I'm majoring in comparative religion."
Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Well, then you and Cas will have a lot to talk about. He's… well versed on the subject."
"Great, we're sick of theological debates," said Melanie as she linked arms with Dean. "How about you buy me shot?" she asked in a voice that wouldn't have seemed out of place on a 1-900 call.
"Um, yeah. Okay," he said, but as they headed to the bar he kept turning back to look at Cas who had quickly launched into a discussion with Rachel over the proper interpretation of Genesis.
"Guess that leaves us," Heather said with a playful smile.
"Guess so," said Sam.
Heather was a senior psych major and Sam liked her. For the first time in a long time, he actually found himself relaxing. Cas and Rachel had snagged a table and continued their religious debates. Castiel actually seemed to be enjoying himself, though Sam was pretty sure he wasn't reading all of the flirtatiousness Rachel was throwing his way.
Human body language is still a foreign language.
Dean was buying Melanie shots and trying to flirt, but Sam noticed his eyes kept trailing over to Cas and Rachel.
Eventually, Sam turned the conversation with Heather to the recent deaths and in discussing the psychology of folklore got the story on the sorority spirit. Despite having a name, Sam wasn't ready to call it a night just yet. They were on shore leave from the apocalypse…
Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
"So…." Heather said, her eyes flickering between the other two couples. "Your brother… He and Cas are… friends?" She said with a sly smile as Sam was, rather unfortunately, downing the last of his beer.
He choked and sputtered and silently thanked god that he didn't shoot beer out of his nose. "How did you….?"
"Oh, please," she said with a wave of her hand, "it's sooo obvious. Dean hasn't been able to take his eyes off Cas all night and looks like he's going to either puke or punch something every time Rachel touches him. And Cas… well Rachel's pulling out the big guns and he's not responding. At. All." she said with a laugh.
"So, what's the story?" she leaned in conspiratorially. "Both in the closet? Bi?"
Sam grinned, relief over *finally* being able to talk to someone about it outweighing the potential weirdness. "Well, Dean's always been firmly in the hetero camp..."
"Overcompensation?"
"Possibly, but I don't think so. I've never seen him show the slightest interest in another guy before. And believe me; we spend *way* too much time together so I think I would have seen hints."
Heather nodded thoughtful, "So it's just Cas that floats his boat. What about Cas?"
"He's, well, he comes from a religious family. Like, *really* religious,"
If you only knew…
"and, I don't think he's interested in men as a rule either."
"Hmm, so two straight guys fall for each other and angst ensues. Kinda romantic, don't cha think?" she said with a grin.
"Yeah, I guess it kinda is," he said with a chuckle.
"Seriously though, they're lucky to have you." Sam raised an eyebrow. "I mean, they're lucky to have someone who supports them and will be there for them no matter what."
He was about to ask her if she wanted to get out of there when Melanie stormed over in huff.
"Your brother is a real dick you know that."
Sonofabitch!
"Yes. I am acutely aware of that fact" Sam said dryly.
"Whatever," she turned to Heather, "Let's get out of here. Steve from the fourth floor is here, I'll be talking to him as soon as you're ready to leave." She pivoted and stomped off.
Sam's gaze searched for is brother and found him stumbling over to Cas and Rachel's table.
"Aw shit."
He grabbed Heather's hand and they made their way to table just as Dean got there.
"Cas!" Dean barked, eyes flaring. "I need to talk to you. Alone." He turned to Rachel with a glare normally reserved for demons and dick-ish angels.
Rachel's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between a seething Dean and a clearly confused Cas. Awareness dawning, she yanked her hand from Castiel's arm. "I'm really sorry. I, I'll just be going." She jumped up and started to pull Heather away.
"But…I don't…" Sam tried vainly.
Sorry, Heather mouthed, looking as downtrodden as Sam felt.
Damn it!
He turned back and saw Dean dragging Cas out the back exit. On the table were two of Cas and Rachel's untouched shots.
He downed them both before following them out into the alley.
"You're intoxicated" Cas said with a frown.
"No shit Sherlock!" Dean said, slurring slightly. "You're a tipsy too, don't even deny it. Wanna tell me what the hell that was about?"
"What?"
"You and Tinkerbell in there? Did you even *try* to get any info on the ghost we're supposed to gank? Or were you too busy?"
"Excuse me? I'm not the one who's so drunk that he can barely stand up!"
Dean reached out and fisted his hands in Castiel's shirt.
"That's enough! Both of you!" Sam shouted as pulled the two of them apart. "Knock it off! I've got what we need. We're leaving. Now!"
"But," Dean started.
"No! You don't start with me!" Sam whirled around and stuck a finger in Dean's chest. "You just blew a potentially great night for me, so you don't get to talk. Get in the car- now!"
Cas and Dean both gawked at him for a moment before they started shuffling toward the car.
"Okay…. Dad!" Dean muttered.
Then he and Castiel dissolved into giggles.
Sam took a deep breath and counted to 10.
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