Chapter Text
Sam shuffled into his and Dean’s hotel room, Charlie on his tail. She was going on about some type of text editing program and how easy it was to code viruses into its first platform. Or something. Sam was into computers, but not like Charlie was.
“I suppose there’s a bed for me in Kevin’s room, huh?” She asked, plopping her duffle bag down on the desk, starting a tad when the clang of metals brought to her attention the arsenal that was spread across the surface.
It was dark in their room, so Sam didn’t notice. Castiel hadn’t taken his bed, which he was pretty glad about. “Yeah, we tend to get the two queens just out of habit, anyway. It’s pretty late; you should head to bed soon.”
“I will, as soon as I find where Dean put my toothbrush and stuff.” Charlie threw around various bags and bottles around the room. “Did you see my backpack? It has the Deathly Hallows on it.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you leave it by the window when you were grabbing your iPad?”
“Oh, right. I have the memory of a toaster.” Charlie dashed over to the window, narrowly missing tripping on a whiskey bottle. She grabbed her bag happily, before letting out an ‘awwwww’ so loud it could wake the dead.
Sam looked up, about to give her heck, but she was busy cooing at his brother which was kind of weird.
Dean was shirtless and snoring like a small dog with his arm and leg draped over their resident Fallen Angel, who’s own arms were nearly falling off the bed. Which was also kind of weird, so Sam did his little confused bitchface that made him look like a pissed off puppy.
“Apparently that’s what beer goggles can do.” Charlie nodded, jumping up and down happily.
“Um.” Sam coughed. “I hope they didn’t work too well.”
Charlie grabbed the blanket and pulled it just a tad. “It’s alright, Sam. They’re still wearing clothes.”
“Ew, Charlie.” Sam blanched, wiping his hands on his pants like he caught dirty-thought germs. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“You’ve seen him naked loads of times, I’m sure.”
“Not in bed with angel dudes!” Sam stressed, throwing his hands out. “That’s like… taboo times two. And definitely not an option.”
“You’re right, Sam.” Charlie nodded dramatically, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Because you’ve never slept with anything inhuman. And because it’s totally platonic to snuggle with your little angelic best friend after drinking and probably talking about manly things like why you guys made him leave the bunker.” Charlie shook her head. “Absolutely no way this went any way except for super not-gay. This is totally not-gay, totally.”
“Why don’t you go back to your room, now, Charlie.” Sam asked, gently pushing her towards the door, after making a face that made him look like Wednesday Addams.
“Also, it’s summer time. Summer time in Arkansas when it’s 80 degrees out is definitely a non-gay time to snuggle.” Charlie nodded to herself, smirking as Sam’s eyebrows began twitching faster.
“You can leave now, Charlie.” Sam opened the door and pushed her through.
“Just don’t get out of bed if you hear any strange sounds.”
“Goodbye, Charlie.” Sam slammed the door in her face, before shivering. Man, she knew how to get to him. Gay people were lovely. Brothers too. Angels too (well, sometimes). But brothers being gay with angels? That was wrong for all the reasons that stray housecats and lonely lions shouldn’t try being domestic with each other.
Of course Sam was not an idiot and he had a lot of time to prepare for all that is Castiel. This was inevitable. Probably having any sort of relations with fallen angels was bad but Dean was always the most stubborn piece of work he’d ever known.
However, that didn’t stop him from muttering a little ‘ew, creepy’ as he shivered into his own large and very unoccupied bed. No angels for him, please. He preferred very human (that’s arguable), very female, and very mentally stable snuggle partners.
Except Sam didn’t snuggle at all because that was unmanly.