Warning: Major spoilers for 5.01!

Disclaimer: I have a character make fun of wing!porn, but this is meant as a Meta joke, and is in no way intended as a slight against the genre and its authors.

AN: I had a busy week so I didn't actually get to start writing this until after I'd seen the premiere but it worked out great as I was able to incorporate it! Story picks up the morning after Part 1

Sam slipped out of the motel at dawn, heading to the Starbucks down the street. Cas and Dean were still passed out on the motel bed, were they had collapsed fully dressed the night before.

Sam considered waking them, purely out of spite, but decided that he was the one that would suffer through a hungover Dean's bitching. No, drinking his latte in peace was infinitely more appealing.

On the walk back Sam's phone rang.

"Hey Bobby. What's up?"

Bobby was having a difficult time adjusting to life in wheelchair and he was a hell of a lot more vulnerable to angels and demons so Sam and Dean were always nervous the news was bad when they saw his name on the caller id. If experience had taught them anything it was that getting mixed up with the Winchester's was likely to get you killed.

"Hey Sam. Gotta case I could use you guys on. Friend about four hours south 'a here with an angry spirit. Should be pretty easy to clean up but it's… it's hauntin' the goddamned attic."

"Sure thing Bobby," Sam jumped in. "We're about finished here anyway. Got an address?"

When Sam got back to the hotel room Thelma and Louise were still passed out and Sam made a decision. He left Dean a note with the name of the sorority house spirit so they could find her remains and that he'd gone to help Bobby so they'd meet up there once they'd ganked their respective spirits.

Driving along in his stolen Yaris, Sam felt like he could breathe for the first time in weeks. It wasn't like before, when Dean had wanted time apart. This wasn't about anger or betrayal or jealousy, it was just an old-fashioned time out.

Besides, Sam thought with a smile maybe Dean and Cas will use the alone time to their advantage…

Ok, now that's just wrong.

Sam turned up the radio and tried to force the image of Dean and Cas getting it on out of his mind.

He'd only been on the road an hour or two when his phone rang.

"What the hell Sam!"

"Good morning to you too Sunshine" Sam said with a laugh.

"This isn't fucking funny! I wake up and you're just gone?"

"I left you a note!"

"Yeah, got the 'Dear John' letter; thanks for that."

"Dean, I don't think that means what you think it does."

"That's not the point Poindexter! You're goin' off by yourself in the middle of the goddamned apocalypse! What if something happens? You know Cas can't find you with the friggin' rib graffiti."

"Dean, Bobby knows exactly where I'll be and I'll meet you two at his place in a day or two. What's the big deal? All's quiet on the Armageddon front and it's not like we haven't hunted separately before. I mean I—" Sam stopped cold.

I hunted for months while you were in Hell, that's what he'd been about to say, And that is exactly Dean's point. Look what happened there.

Sam felt like an ass.

"Look Dean, I'm sorry. I just, I just really needed to do this. I need to help Bobby. Ok?"

Dean sighed, "Yeah, Sammy, I know. Cas and me, we'll meet ya at Bobby's soon. And you know what we're gonna do then?" he asked is demeanor brightening, "We're gonna work on teaching angel-boy here how to hold his liquor!" Sam thought he heard Castiel moan in the background.

"So, Cas is reveling in the wondrous joy of the human hangover?"

"Oh yeah. Worshiping the porcelain God and everything."

"Aw, well I hope you're holdin' his hair back for him" Sam said with a snicker.

I'd swear I can hear him blushing through the phone.

"Later Bitch."

"Later Jerk."

*************

Sam dispatched the spirit handily and pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard less than 24 hours after Bobby had called.

Once his identity had been properly established, Bobby wheeled over to the fridge and grabbed two beers. Sam resisted the temptation to do it himself. He knew Bobby well enough to know that would be a mistake.

"Here you go. Some of that frou-frou microbrew you bought last time you were here."

Sam accepted the beer with grin, "Missed you too Bobby."

"So, what are you doin' here by yerself Sam?" asked Bobby with a raised eyebrow. "Where's Jay and Silent Bob?"

Sam barked out a laugh and it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"What? You idjits kept talking about God bein' missing like in Dogma figured I needed to see it. And I gotta say, if God's playing goddamn skee ball I'm gonna be royally pissed."

He took another sip of his beer, "Seriously though Sam, why are you solo? You boys have a fight?"

"What?" Sam asked, surprised, "No, nothing like that. We're fine, I was just so sick of the two of them…" He trailed off, embarrassed.

Outing Dean to Bobby doesn't seem right.

Turns out, Sam didn't have to.

"Sick of 'em moonin' over each other like a couple of angsty adolescents?"

Sam gaped at Bobby for a beat before finally nodding.

Don't know why I'm surprised, Bobby's always been a pro at reading people. It was part of what made him a great hunter.

"They keep dancing around each other and they were driving me up the wall so when you called I just bailed."

"Well, that brother of yours is as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be. And featherbrain ain't much better. They'll come around eventually, just gotta keep from killing 'em in the meantime."

Sam polished off his beer, "Want another one Bobby?" he said getting to his feet.

"Nah, I could use something stiffer. Grab the whiskey. And then you gotta tell me how the case went."

They polished off a glass apiece while Sam filled Bobby in on the attic spirit. When they were almost through with their second glass, Sam brought the conversation back to Dean and Cas.

"So, really, this thing with Dean and Cas, it, it doesn't bother you?"

Bobby snorted, "other than the fact that I don't really get what your brother sees in Mr. Spock? No. Why? It bother you?"

"No, doesn't. It's just… I mean, Dean's never been into guys so it was a little weird at first."

"Yeah, well, Cas ain't exactly a guy is he? Cherub ain't my favorite person, but he's good for your brother. He's the only person who's ever been able to talk Dean outta doin' something stupid and he works hard to keep both you boys safe. And he loves your brother warts and all, loves him like he deserves to be loved."

"That's why I wish they'd just quit beating around the bush."

"Well, your brother don't believe he deserves that kinda love. And, it's like you said, Dean ain't ever been into guys so it's gotta be messin' with his head a little. They'll see what we all see one of these days."

Later that night as Sam was about to doze off in the guest room Bobby's words "They'll see what we all see" replayed in his head and inspiration struck. He grinned in the darkness and resolved to set his plan in motion first thing tomorrow.

*************

The next morning, Sam poured himself a cup of coffee and picked up the phone.

This is a great idea he thought.

"This is a terrible idea Sam."

"Hey Chuck. Do you have what I need?"

"Yeah," he said warily.

"You're writing this is into the gospel, huh?"

"What! No! No, this doesn't go into the gospel. In fact, I wouldn't write it down at all but I have to, or else it just stays there, trapped inside my skull, rotting my brain like some flesh eating bacteria!"

"Geez, calm down."

"Calm down?! Calm down?! Between their fantasies and their dreams it's like non-stop gay porn in my head!" The prophet's voice was so high now it was practically squeaking.

"Chuck—"

"Yesterday," he rushed on, "I wrote a five page scene of Dean beating off in the shower while imagining Castiel's wings caressing him. I mean, wing!porn? What the fuck is ithat/i about? I've gone from prophet of lord to some hacky slash fanfiction writer. It's so humiliating!"

Sam was torn between feeling sorry for Chuck and wanting to throttle him for the new, horrifying images assaulting his brain.

"Chuck, you know, maybe if you help me we can get the two of them together and that will temper their, er, fantasy lives."

'Course, they might just start actually doing the stuff they're imagining…

Sam decided this thought was best kept to himself.

In the end, Sam convinced Chuck to send him a couple of chapters of a more benign nature than the masturbatory scene he'd so eloquently described, along with some non-relationshippy stuff that he thought he could sneak past the angels. Sam printed them off and was contemplating the best place to strategically place them when he heard the rumble of the Impala's engine.

He looked down at the pages and shrugged, deciding the kitchen table was as good a place as any. Discarding the pages, he grabbed a six pack of beer and some holy water and went to meet them on the porch.

*************

Cas and Dean were in high spirits when they arrived. Turns out that Illinois got interesting after Sam left and between the two of them getting caught sneaking into the sorority house and falling into a sink hole in a muddy cemetery everyone was cracking up at the retelling.

Dean and Cas seemed so relaxed that Sam wondered if maybe they'd finally come to terms with everything but then they'd brushed hands when reaching for another bottle of beer and it was clear they hadn't. Sam sighed, more loudly than he'd meant to, and Dean gave him a weird look.

Eventually, they moved into the kitchen to get some lunch and Dean picked up the pages Chuck had sent.

"What's this?"

"Oh, uh, Chuck sent me those. I hadn't actually gotten around to reading them before you showed up."

"The prophet sent you information and you were too busy to read it?" Cas asked incredulously.

Sam rolled his eyes, "No Cas, I was about to when you showed up. Besides, it's probably nothing useful. You know the angel's won't let him share the important stuff with us."

He sneaked a glance at his brother who was flipping through the pages and he noticed his brother was glaring down at the pages, his shoulders tight, his jaw clenched.

Chuck was right. This was a terrible idea.

He started backing out of the room. "I, um, I'm just going to, uh, go and—"

Dean's head snapped up, "Sam!"

"Um, yeah?"

Dean turned to Cas and gave him a thin smile, "Cas, think you can take Bobby to the store and get some food for dinner tonight?"

Cas frowned and cocked his head, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanna talk to Sammy and I don't want Bobby leaving the protection of the wards without some backup."

Bobby shot Sam pointed look, that clearly said Just couldn't leave well enough alone could you?

"C'mon Pinocchio. Time to learn how to shop just like a real boy," he said as he rolled out of the kitchen.

"I don't know why you insist on these nicknames," Cas said shaking his head as he followed.

Sam stared after them, refusing to turn back and meet the gaze that was boring into him. Neither of them moved or made so much as a sound until they could no longer hear Bobby's van on gravel drive.

"What the fuck is this Sam?" Dean asked with a vehemence Sam hadn't heard in months.

"Um, I told you," Sam said turning back to face him, he wished he hadn't. "It's from Chuck."

"Bullshit. This is your idea of a sick joke and I won't let you mess with him like that. He's been through enough."

"I, what?" Sam's brow knitted. What the hell had Chuck sent him?

Dean flipped to the second page, "The angel stared at the sleeping hunter, his face glowing in the moonlight. He'd witnessed the birth of the universe but nothing could compare to the radiance he saw there. And in that moment he finally understood the strange human concept of a broken heart, because his heart was breaking now. Dean would never, could never, love him." Dean's voice cracked a little on the last sentence.

"Dean, I don't know what you think I did, but I swear to you those pages came from Chuck."

Dean's eyes narrowed, "You're telling me you didn't make this up."

"I swear," Sam repeated.

Come on Dean! Why can't you see the truth when it's staring you in the face…

"But then… Son of a bitch! Those fucking angels! Zachariah just loves messing us."

Christ on crutches!

"Here, give me that" Sam motioned impatiently to the pages in Dean's hand. Once he got them he quickly flipped to a section of Dean thinking about Cas. "Here," he said handing them back. "Read this and tell me if you still think someone's messing with you."

Dean rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting. As he read his jaw slackened and the color drained from his face. He dropped into a kitchen chair and stared down at the pages in his hands, reading them again and again.

"Dean?" Sam asked gently taking a seat next to him.

His brother looked at him, his face reddening, "I don't—I mean, you know me, I'm not—"

"I know," Sam said smiling, "But that doesn't mean you don't love him all the same."

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"He loves you too. I think he realized it before you did."

Dean opened his eyes and regarded him skeptically, "Just what did Chuck tell you?"

Sam laughed, "Chuck didn't tell me shit! I've been living with the two of you for months. Hell, I knew before either of you did!"

Dean huffed out an embarrassed laugh and grabbed the bottle of whisky, "I need a drink."

He poured a glass for Sam and a glass for himself. He downed it in two glups and poured another. This one he just stared into as he rolled the glass between his hands.

"What am I gonna do Sammy?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean what are you going to do?" Sam's patience was wearing thin. "You're going to quit being a coward and you're gonna man up and go for it. In fact, you hear that? They're back."

Dean's head snapped up and the look of pure terror on his face made Sam burst out laughing. "Seriously Dude? You can face down a Wendingo but ithis/i petrifies you?"

Dean glared at him as he threw back the rest of the whiskey.

They sat in silence listening to the sound of the van pulling up the drive. When they heard the doors slamming shut Dean jumped up and started pacing around the kitchen.

"Dean. Relax."

Sam got up and went to open the door for them. "How'd it go?" he asked taking one bag off of Bobby lap.

"Fine. Need a leash for Toto though, he has a habit of wandering off" Bobby grunted as he wheeled himself off to the deposit the extra toiletries in the linen closet.

"I told you, I was in the bakery" the angel called after him, rolling his eyes.

When Sam and Cas entered the kitchen Dean was leaning against the far wall drinking straight out of the whiskey bottle. Sam made a face.

Cas stopped cold, "Dean, is everything alright?" he asked concerned.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "Yeah, uh, everything is fine Cas." He stayed against the wall. Sam thought maybe he needed it to keep from falling over.

"Oh, good." Castiel made his way over to the counter to set down the purchases. "There were freshly baked apple pies, I bought you one."

Sam was glad he was still looking at Dean, because he would have hated to miss the grin that suddenly lit up his brother's face. He handed the whiskey bottle to Sam without looking at him, crossed the room in two strides and spun Cas around.

"Wha—" was all Cas had time to get out before Dean gripped the back of his head and crushed their lips together.

For a split second Cas just stood there, arms splayed as his sides. But then instinct took over and his arms snaked up Dean's back as he melted into the kiss.

Sam just stood there grinning stupidly holding a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He was just starting to feel uncomfortable with the intensity of the kiss when Dean pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Castiel's.

"Well, 'bout damn time," Bobby said gruffly as he wheeled into the kitchen.

Dean jumped at the sound and both he and Cas flushed crimson.

"Oh, uh, hey," Dean stammered as he grabbed Castiel's hand and gestured to the doorway, "We're just gonna—"

"Panic room," Bobby cut in. "And do us a favor? Turn on that radio you got down there? Loudly."

Cas was now maroon.

Dean was still red, but he was grinning, "Thanks Bobby," he said tugging Cas along behind him.

Once the two men were out of sight Bobby wheeled over to the counter and grabbed two clean glasses.

"Well, don't just stand there 'ya idjit. Get over here and start pouring." He gestured to the bottle in Sam's hand.

"Yes Sir." Sam took a seat at the table and filled the tumblers as the sounds of classic rock drifted in from downstairs. It took Sam a minute before he recognized the song.

AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long."

Of course it is. I think I'm starting to understand how Chuck feels. We should really send him a fruit basket or something.

He couldn't help it. He started giggling.

Bobby looked at him like he'd lost his mind for a minute which only made him laugh harder.

Then Bobby started chuckling and Sam was practically howling, laughing so hard it brought tears to his eyes.

Life was still a mess. Lucifer was still walking the earth. The angels still wanted Dean's meatsuit. Sam still craved demon blood. Bobby was bound to a chair. Cas was losing his mojo and God was AWOL.

But, for one brief afternoon, Sam couldn't bring himself to worry about it.

******************************************************************************

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