Title: Shopping Trip
Character(s)/Pairing: Sam, pre-Dean/Cas
Disclaimer: SPN does not belong to me and this was not written for profit.

Sam sighs again but Dean and Castiel have wandered a few racks away from him and don't hear it. Not, of course, that they would have paid any attention to him anyway because he's been sighing since they started this farce of a shopping trip and Dean only got less and less able to hear him and Cas' expression went from bemused to annoyed. Really, though, did all three of them need to be there? Sam wasn't at all sure why Dean had insisted he come along - except, maybe, to make it look less like he was shopping for his boyfriend. Which, of course, he was, Sam thought petulantly, but Dean seemed determined not to admit that.

"Sam. What the hell are you doing? Get over here."

"What is it, Dean?" he asks, stalking over to where his brother and Cas are standing in front of a jeans display. Cas has one arm outstretched and Dean has laid two pairs of jeans across it.

"Tell him he needs some good jeans," Dean says.

"I don't," Cas says, addressing Dean. He puts the jeans back on the stand and looks at Sam. "I don't. Denim is stiff and difficult to move in."

Sam can understand that, it's a pretty valid point, and he starts to say so before Dean interrupts him. "Dude, that's just because it's not worn in yet. Once you get 'em worn in..." He squats a little and then stands up with a roll of his hips that is more than just vaguely sexual. It is blatant flirting, Sam thinks, and it is disgusting. The worst part is Dean probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. Or why.

"Just... let him get whatever pants he wants, okay?" He is very, very ready to leave and Cas and Dean seem intent on dragging it out for as long as they're allowed.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," Dean says, and wow is he getting defensive. Cas hasn't moved, though he has started straightening the pants that Dean grabbed from the display.

"He can pick out his own clothes," Sam says. "Right, Cas?"

Cas gives Dean a particularly withering look and Sam realizes that they already had this argument before he was even brought in.

"I'm a human now," Cas says. "Not an infant."

"Whatever." Dean scowls and starts flipping through shirts that Sam's sure he doesn't care about. His eyes flick over to Cas for half a second. That must be an apology in their weird eye language because Cas relaxes a little and he certainly doesn't look happy but he doesn't look so angry anymore, either. Oh sorry, Sam thinks, rolling his eyes and letting a warm, annoyed huff of air curl out. Maybe they need privacy? Should he step outside? Would Dean like someone to catch him as he swoons? But he doesn't say anything because Cas is oblivious and Dean is stubbornly idiotic and Sam does not have the patience to deal with their silly sixth-grade loves-me, loves-me-not bullshit anymore. He is half tempted to throw them both in a dressing room and subtly hint that Dean just help Cas with that tricky zipper on the pants he's wearing. Which would at least get them out of Sam's hair, but then he'd have to deal with the cute store associate they'd seen being absolutely furious and probably scandalized while Dean and Cas are in there doing... things... that Sam realizes he'd really rather not think about.

"Here," Dean says, thrusting a blue button-up shirt into Cas' chest. "Take this one." He rifles through the rack again until he pulls out another one - blue, again, Sam notices, and if Dean is matching Cas goddamn eyes then Sam is using this as ammunition for the rest of their lives - and shoves that at Cas, too.

Cas gives a long-suffering sigh - and Sam is so tempted to remind him just who has been suffering here - and says "All right, Dean. I'll go try them on."

And because Sam's life is actually a bad movie he and Dean end up waiting outside of the dressing room like normal people with no attraction at all, no sir, to the ex-angel inside. Well. No attraction on Sam's part, of course. Dean was the one making doe eyes and trying to get Cas to come out in his prom dress. He hadn't actually asked him to come out in his clothes, but Cas did it anyway. Maybe to placate Dean, or maybe he just wanted to show off, Sam was past the point of caring.

"I'm happy with this," Cas says. "And the other one. And everything else we've picked out." He is getting irritable - more irritable, because Cas has never been particularly patient to begin with - and Sam can't really blame him. Clothes are pretty self-explanatory, even if you'd never put them on for yourself before.

"Great," Dean says, standing up. He and Cas are way too close to each other again and Dean's eyes sweep down his body. He reaches out and straightens Cas' collar, letting his hand linger for a second too long on the jut of Cas' clavicle.

Cas just stares at Dean and doesn't ask him to move his hand.

Oh goddamn, Sam thinks, they are the most ridiculous people to ever exist and he wants to go over and bash their heads together until maybe their mouths touch and they realize Oh. This is what we wanted all along. How are they actually that blind. Cas has millions of years under his belt and Dean has more sexual encounters than Sam really cares to consider and neither of them seem to be aware of the very very simple fact that they are so fucking in love with each other.

When Dean decides he is finally done with the caressing, he shoos Cas back into the little dressing room cubicle. Sam gives him A Look. Dean's hackles immediately raise. "What?"

"Nothing," Sam says, shaking his head. Dean narrows his eyes at him. He is so freaking smitten. Yeah, Sam's happy for his brother because Cas is only sort of perfect for him because they're both so damn stubborn they have their stupid profound bond and their own secret non-verbal language and Cas is just as devoted to Dean as Sam is, so. He's happy for them. But he'd be happier if they could pick out their date outfits on their own and not involve him in their ridiculous little mating ritual. Dean is still eyeing him like he's up to something even though no, Sam is just more observant than a table lamp. "It's nothing," he says again, shrugging. And before Dean can respond Cas comes out again and suddenly his attention is all on him. "Idiots," Sam says under his breath. But his tone is fond.

Final Notes: This is just a little ficlet I'd written on tumblr. Enjoy!