because i’m in love with this text post and wanted it in fic form.

“You’re being homophobic, Dean.”

Dean sends his brother an indignant look as the movie plays in the background.  “What?  All I said is that they have no chemistry!  I don’t care that they’re both dudes!”

The purse of Sam’s lip says he’s unconvinced, but he says nothing, just jacks up the volume on his laptop.

Dean rolls his eyes.  He settles back into his high-backed chair and fixes his eyes on the screen.  It’s an indie movie, highbrow and cast wholly in some sort of sepia filter.  If Dean’s being honest, most of it flies over his head, but he’s making an effort to spend time with Sam now that he’s rid of the mark, and if watching two dudes make out on the screen is a way to do that, well then.  Dean’s going to do that.  

He pretends not to be too invested in the leading man’s kissing technique.  It must work too well, because soon Sam is sighing and saying, “Dude, does it really bother you that much?  Your face is all - judgey.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue, but doesn’t find it in himself to correct Sam by saying that no, he wasn’t judging the gay relationship; he was judging the way the dude thrust his tongue into the other dude’s mouth like some sort of parasitic eel.

So he’s prepared to give up, to admit that maybe watching highbrow indie movies with Sam isn’t the best way to bond - 

But then Cas walks in, looking grumpy about something - the coffee machine probably konked out again - and Dean gets an idea.  He licks his lips.  “Okay, Sammy,” he says, taking a deep breath.  “You want to see how much it doesn’t bother me?”

Sam squints his eyes in confusion.  “…Okay?” he says, after some hesitation.

Dean grips the arms of his chair, his eyes raking down Cas’s figure as the man moves closer.  Under his breath, he says, “Dare me to kiss Cas?”

Sam reels back.  “What?  No, that’s not what - “

But Dean’s already standing, waiting for Cas to join them.  “Can’t believe you’re making me do this, man,” he says.  

“I’m not, though - ?”

But Dean’s hand is already reaching for Cas’s tie, just within his reach.  He pulls on the fabric, tilting his head, and plants his lips on Cas’s. 

Cas inhales sharply before making a low, rough noise like he’s found something better than coffee.  After a moment’s hesitation, he lifts a hand to drag over Dean’s jaw as he begins to kiss back firmly.  Dean’s arms wind around his waist.

When they pull away, Cas’s eyes are shining, if a little wary.  “What was that for?” he says, voice hoarse.

Dean shrugs.  He’s staring at Cas’s lips.  “Sam dared me to,” he says.

Sam splutters indignantly. “Did not!”

Cas ignores him.  He pushes forward to land a soft kiss on Dean’s bottom lip before tentatively asking, “Did you mean it?”

“Hell, yeah, I meant it,” Dean says at once, pulling Cas tighter to him.  He whispers something in his ear that makes Cas blush to the tips of his ears.

Sam’s face is contorted in disgust.  “I heard that!  Will you at least, I dunno…” - he shields his eyes - “Leave the room or something?”

Dean glares at him.  “You’re the one who dared me to kiss him.”

“I did not dare you to kiss him!”

He’s ignored, not for the last time that night.