His name is my password
Contrary to popular belief, Dean is not stupid. He might be dense, at times but definitely not stupid. He knows when something's up. Much like he knows now.
Sam is being weird.
Weirder than usual, that is.
Nothing big, but you know the little things.
A week ago they were working on this case. Some mumbo jumbo about a sacrificing pagan ghost, who didn't get his feast. Nothing too big or difficult. They just needed some help figuring it out. So he calls up Cas. Or he would if Sam would let him. Instead he said that he wanted Castiel to come with him to the library, so maybe then they could figure it out. And Dean agreed. It was nothing really, not the first time those two worked together. But even when they did, it was Dean's job to call Cas.
Oh well, he's probably looking too deeply into it. Besides, it might be nice to get the angel out of his ass for a while.
But it gets weirder.
Yesterday Sam announced that he was gonna shower. They were on another hunt in the middle of nowhere, in a dingy, hot, sweaty little motel room.
So, okay, Sam get's the first shower. No big deal.
Then two hours later Sam gets out of the bathroom.
San is known for his princess like manners, but even for him two hours of showering is a bit over the top. Especially when he knows they're on a job.
But the weirdest thing about it, was that Sam came out fully clothed and dry. The same he was when he got in the bathroom, you know TO SHOWER, which he didn't do.
But, wait. It gets better.
He comes out looking dazed and flustered. Like he was walking on air, the whole time he was in the bathroom.
Dean doesn't mention it.
So the last one really rattled him.
They were propped up on their beds, working as usual.
Dean was flicking through some ancient books Bobby left them, looking up some Slovakian lore. Another case, pagan bullshit, Slovakian origin. Same song over and over again.
Sam was on his laptop helping out too. Or rather, he was supposed to be. Instead he kept switching over to his phone. His new phone. His I-phone.
Which Dean couldn't dial on if his life depended on it. He liked Sam's old phone better.
Sure it was decades old, but it was functional.
Phones are for phone calls. Not for taking pictures, not for playing scrabble, not for internet, and not for whatever else bullshit they make you believe you need.
And that touch screen is giving him too much trouble. His hands are just too big to point and click. It's Sam's fault he got a girly phone.
No phone should give you such a hard time.
So anyway, Sam keeps checking his phone every 2 seconds. He'll check it, and then switch his brooding face back to the laptop screen. And then he'll check it again, and his eyebrows would just double over and go back to the screen. And repeat.
Last time this happened a certain demon was playing around his Sammy. And that's what scared Dean the most.
Sam couldn't be doing this all over again.
But dammit if Dean was going to let it happen.
But, wait, of course, let's not jump to conclusions.
So he'll just wait a while to get a hold of that electronic monstrosity Sam calls a phone.
Soon enough, Sam announces he'll go to the store, get some rock salt and whatever. Dean sends him off with a 'And bring me some pie!'.
And Sam's phone is left to charge.
As soon as the door slams shut, he makes a run for Sam's bed, throwing his heavy limbs over it and snagging the phone from the counter.
What's the first thing to do?
Check the messages.
He manages to locate the message button, but upon pressing it his thumb crazes over the pictures button.
Dean huffs out annoyed and just as he was about to switch back, he notices something.
There are pictures in the pictures folder.
Which is weird enough.
But what is weirder is that he recognizes one of the faces on the pictures.
The mysterious grumbling angel that raised his ass from perdition.
Dean's eyebrows shoot significantly up on his forehead.
Well this is slightly entertaining.
He clicks on one of the pictures, not really seeing much of them in their smaller state.
He was not getting old. He can't see because of all the smoke and dirt they have to handle on a daily basis.
And that's final.
Or he might be getting crazy.
Because what he sees on this picture is very much... delusional.
Yeah that's the word.
Or maybe, uh, let's just try to explain it.
It's a picture of Sam, you know, his brother.
And next to him, his brother, Sam, is Castiel.
Castiel is an angel, currently residing in Jimmy Novak's body.
Jimmy Novak is a man.
And Sam, his tall brother, is kissing the cheek of Castiel, the angel in a man's meatsuit.
And Sam looks happy.
He's got his eyes closed, slight smile in his puckered lips which are pressed on the scratchy cheek of, of Castiel.
And, uh, Castiel is smiling.
Like really smiling.
A little shy maybe, but still you know, a full on smile.
And they're at uh, what seems to be a, a fair, of some sort. If the ferris wheel in the back is anything to go by.
And Dean thinks he might be hyperventilating.
His breathing is heavy, he gulps for air, and he just, he needs to get the fuck away from that evil machine.
He scrambles of the bed in a hurry and towards the bathroom.
He drinks the water straight from the sink and puts his head under the stream of cool liquid.
It's the phone's fault.
The I-Phone made his brother gay.
He manages to get his breathing back in order.
And makes the decision to get back to the evil phone.
He walks back uncertainly to the room, eyeing the phone from affair accusingly.
He sits himself back on the bed once again, and sighs once deeply, before returning back to the phone.
He starts flicking through the rest of the pictures in the phone. The next always more cringe worthy then the last.
He sees a picture of them just smiling up at the camera.
Another one with Castiel's face looking at the camera like he was caught off guard, while pouring sugar in a coffee mug in some diner.
Another one which, takes him some time to figure out. It's Sam body, which seems to be crushing Castiel in a hug, but it's taken in a very weird like angle. You can only see a side of Castiel's face who seems to be laughing, ( actually laughing ) while burying his face in Sam's shoulder, and just a glint of Sam green eye, which looks full of mischief and happiness.
He flicks through all of them, but the last one is the one that really, really grabs his attention.
It's a picture of Castiel. He is shirtless. Or possibly naked. He is hunched forward in a bed, his arms holding his knees, his mouth quirked open as if he was talking.
But the picture itself speaks of so much intimacy.
The lights in the picture are dimmed, a slight greyish green effect to the picture. As if it were taken really late into the night, borderline morning. Only Castiel's blue eyes shine expressively in the picture.
And it feels so personal, Dean feels dirty just looking at it.
He put's the phone down on the counter, and sits propped up on the bed just looking at it.
All of his confusion, aggravation, perturbation, vanishes and settles with a sort of calmness.
So, yeah Sam is apparently... involved with Castiel.
Which sounds so wrong, on so many levels.
But he saw with his own eyes.
A picture speaks a thousand words.
And the pictures he took with Castiel speak of joy, pure unadulterated happiness, bliss, content, affection, care, dedication, and most of all, they speak of love.
And Dean won't mess with what they have.
I mean, if he really thought about it, it actually made sense.
You know, Sam is the Prodigal Son.
He is the one that made the bad decisions and he wanted to repent.
And Castiel was the first one to give him that forgiveness.
Sam was the one that believed in angels, that saw them as grand, that saw them as just and pure.
And Castiel was the only one not to disappoint.
Cas has his quirks.
That's what makes him, him, and he shouldn't change that, not ever.
But as he, himself always made fun of Castiel's confusion and antics, Sam was the patient one that made sure to explain to him why was something funny, or why was something out of line.
He was always the one that took him seriously and showed him his respect.
And he let himself smile.
Because Sam, his little Sammy had found someone.
And not just anyone.
Someone he himself likes.
And in the end he doesn't mind it.
Not one bit.
This was actually based on a sastiel fluff prompt left on tumblr. I found it, liked it, and went from there. I actually really like sassy, but not so many writers do it. So, like always I thought if nobody's gonna give me what I want, I will. I think I might end some fluffy end chapter to this. I just really want to portray the two of them personally. So in the end, I really hope you liked it. I thank you for reading. I would also genuinely appreciate it if you left me reviews. They really keep me motivated. :)