A temporary witch's curse has the Winchester brothers swapping bodies. It sucks, but they're handling it. As long as they keep their hands to themselves and Dean quit eyeing the damn scissors with that evil gleam in his eye...
Unfortunately for Sam, he discovers something about Dean and Cas. | 13.7K words | Last chapter is really NSFW and is rated RED |


4. Chapter 3


Chapter 3


Sam settles onto the bed next to Cas, far enough away to give them both some personal space but close enough he doesn't make Cas feel awkward (if possible). He still feels like an ass when he pulls his hands in his lap when Cas reaches for one. He's trying his damnedest to ignore the kicked puppy expression Cas has going on now. He's this close to caving in and just letting Cas hold his damn hand if it'll get that look off his face. It's not really that big a deal, right? It's only hand-holding...

Instead, he clears his throat and forces a calm he's not really feeling. "So, how long?"

"About a year now," Castiel admits, gaze firmly on his fingers splayed out on the motel's bedding once again. He presses his fingertips into the comforter, trying to ignore the tingling sensation, the urge to fit his fingers between Dean's, but he accepts Sam's polite refusal. He sneaks a quick look at Sam, feeling uncertain and horribly ashamed. Like he's lied to the younger Winchester (which, he feels he has; even if only by omission). However, Sam doesn't look too upset. He's a little confused but relieved nonetheless that Sam doesn't feel left out or betrayed by not being told sooner.

He returns this gaze to the comforter, tracing the strange pattern with his index finger. Now that he's telling Sam, he feels it's important to be completely honest, even if Dean might be upset or Sam uncomfortable. He clears his throat softly, "We've been intimate for only about half that time, however."

Sam just nods, not really wanting to get into the details. But he's a little pissed at Dean for being such an ass if he made Cas wait almost a year. (He knows a year is nothing for the angel, but it's the principle of the thing.) Of course, he had noticed Dean's habit of chasing anything with a pretty smile and boobs had pretty much stopped about a year ago, so he really should've known. Dean did still flirt with any and everyone - especially 'on the job' when it helped get information - but Dean would probably have to be dead to not flirt, though. So maybe he wouldn't make too big a deal about it since Cas hadn't ever gone into a jealous rage that he could remember.

He could only imagine the sort of stupid macho-bullshit Dean put himself through when he realized he was into Cas. Maybe he could cut his emotionally idiotic brother some slack on this one... He really didn't think his brother would believe him it wasn't that big a surprise he got with a guy; Sam himself had seen his brother eye more than one guy when out and doing this FBI, questioning the witnesses thing. And the less said about his obsession with Dr. Sexy (and the ridiculous cowboy boots) the better.

"Are you alright with this, Sam?" Castiel asks quietly, not exactly comfortable with Sam's prolong silence. For the most part, he doesn't care what people think; most are wrong about homosexuality, anyway. But Sam is different; Sam is Dean's brother, his only true family and he's well aware of how highly Dean regards the younger man, no matter their mottled history. He's hoping Sam will bless their relationship instead of condemn it. Or at least, not offer resistance and demand they stop. He knows Dean would if Sam asked it of him... He would as well, of course, but he can't help hoping it won't come to that.

Sam's brow crinkles with confusion, lips pulling down at the corners a little. "Yeah, of course, Cas. I'd be blind not to notice how into each other you guys are," he offers, playfully nudging Cas' shoulder with his. Cas looks relieved but still wary. He's tempted to be a total immature jerk and start making moon eyes and singing cheesy love songs, but Cas looks freaked out enough without adding in Winchester-brand shenanigans right now. He should probably tell Cas he's happy they're in love and all that crap, but he really doesn't want to go there right now. He settles for a friendly shoulder squeeze, which seems to relax Cas further. "Seriously, man. It's fine. I'm happy for you guys. I just wish either of you had told me sooner. I woulda been alright with it."

"I know, Sam. I told Dean as much," Castiel murmurs. "I'm quite certain his issue is not with you."

Sam can only nod, having already figured that part out.

"Well, not entirely with you," Castiel amends, feeling a little uncomfortable. "He does worry about you and how you'd react. I think he worried you'd feel... left out. Or envious."

Sam shakes his head a little, smiling sadly. Sure, he's not exactly thrilled to be a third wheel, but there's no way he'd begrudge his brother (or Cas) this. "Nah, I'm really okay with it." He doesn't know if Cas is as adverse to 'chick flick' moments, but he figures one of them should hear it. He nearly sighs, having to abandon his earlier 'keeping it to himself' plan because it looks like Cas needs to hear it. He can do this; he can man up and do the 'chick' stuff. "I'm just happy Dean's happy," he says earnestly. Cas puffs up, small smile quirking his lips and looking pleased with himself. "You... He is happy, right?"

He watches as Cas considers the question like it's one of life's greatest mysteries. Hell, for Cas is probably is. He sits quietly and lets Cas think.

"As happy as he can be," Castiel answers carefully after a few moments of consideration. The life the Winchester brothers lead doesn't leave room for many happy moments, but they manage to make moments of happiness when alone together. He knows Dean would not appreciate telling his brother about their intimate times, but he can honestly say they've managed some very good moments. "I take care of him, Sam," he offers honestly. "I will always do so."

Sam nods, feeling a little uncomfortable at Cas' intensity but overall pleased at the angel's sincerity. Dean doesn't walk around whistling or grinning like an insufferable douche that just got laid but he had noticed his brother looked less like he carried the world on his shoulders and slept more than 4 hours a night. He claps Cas on the shoulder again. "Thanks, Cas." Before he can ask if Cas is happy too (maybe offer to smack Dean around if he's not being good to the angel,) the door swings open and slams into the wall behind it, a wild eyed 'Sam' nearly blocking the doorway.

Dean bursts in the room, face twisted in a look of panic. Oh god - Cas and him... are both looking at... him. He sees Cas sitting next to himself and his gaze flicks to Sam. He feels hot and prickly all over, a little nauseated as well, and swallows thickly. This can't be good. Shit.


He knew he'd been forgetting something when they were hashing out the whole body switching... thing. Son of a bitch. Cas just sits there, hands on his knees as he looks at him, his expression calm and guileless. He's wondering what's missing from that blue gaze until he remembers. Right. He's wearing Sam's body like some bad movie plot. Cas doesn't give sex-eyes to Sam. (And thank god for that or he'd probably seriously consider fratricide... which would really suck because he'd actively tried to keep Sam alive since... ever.)

"Cas," he says slowly, closing the door behind himself when he realizes he's been standing in the opened doorway, staring like a super-tall weirdo. "Uh, Dean," he adds, feeling all kinds of awkward and wrong.

So many kinds of wrong.

Castiel smiles despite himself. 'Sam' is standing in a way that's all uncomfortable Dean; body tense, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders slightly hunched and avoiding eye contact. It's oddly reassuring. He shifts closer to Dean on the bed, purely on instinct, and he can't quite quell the curious irritation when there's no counter move from Dean like there usually would be.

Right. Not Dean. His Dean is across the room in Sam's slightly hunched over body and looking like he's wishing for the gift of spontaneous self teleportation.

The atmosphere in the room is tense, all three men just staring at each other in turns.

Dean knows Cas has to know whats going on by now, but he can't bring himself to open his mouth and say something - anything - about it. What the hell can he say? He doesn't want to know how Cas figured it out and he figures Sammy would appreciate little to no reminders as well.

"So. Dean."

Dean and Cas turn towards Sam, startled out of their staring contest by his voice. The fucker sounds amused, much to Dean's annoyance. Dean rubs at the back of his neck, only partially aware of Cas' barely-there warm smile. He sighs softly, gaze flicking to Cas for a moment. Just long enough to see his angel nod subtly and offer a small, but encouraging smile. His shoulders relax but he's not exactly relieved. God, this shit is fucked up.

"Yeah. So. Uh. We're sort of a... thing..." Dean mutters, wagging his finger between Cas and himself and giving a half shrug. He shoots Cas an apologetic look, sorry as hell he has minimized their relationship to a thing, but extremely uncomfortable with talking about it. Especially with Sam.

Because - awkward. So not gonna fucking happen.

Dean scowls when Sam has the nerve - the gigantic fucking nerve - to give him the kicked puppy eyes with his own damn face. Seriously? That's freakin' low... "What?" he grumbles, looking away from the surprisingly effective cartoon princess eyes his brother is working. Huh. He should ask for pointers because even Cas is fidgeting under that look. Okay; maybe that would come in handy...

Sam huffs and flops backwards onto the bed. He laces his fingers over his stomach, staring at the ceiling since it beat looking at Dean's constipated expression or Cas' panicked-but-trying-to-look-like-a-stoic-angel one. He's quiet for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before he turns his head enough to look at Dean again. His brother doesn't look constipated any more, just tense. Like he's waiting for some verbal assault. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Dean fidgets, shifting his shoulders and rubbing his face, as he tries to find something to stare at that doesn't include Cas or Sam in his periphery. They both look curious and he really wishes he had a good answer. Cas hadn't ever pushed once Dean said 'no' that first time Cas mentioned it, the angel offering no complaint or judgement and just going along with his wishes to keep their thing to themselves. He knows it was a dick move, but it seemed like the best option at the time.

Partially, he had a superstitious fear that telling Sam would strain things between the three of them. And, honestly, avoiding things that might fuck up things with Cas was higher on his list than keeping Sam in the loop. Otherwise, he just didn't want to get too comfortable and let things slip while they were out. They spent too much damn time in small towns for him to forget himself and let Cas (or himself, he had his moments too, if he's being honest) get handsy.

Castiel stands up and steps towards Dean, gently wrapping a hand around the other man's bicep. It's a bit bigger than he's used to but he doesn't think telling Dean that will be a good idea. He knows Dean doesn't like to be touched in front of others, but it's not an intimate touch and he figures the point is moot at this point since the feline has escaped its sack.

Dean's aggrieved scowl, even on Sam's features, is reassuring and he can't help smiling up at Dean. He doesn't lean in for a kiss though, regardless of how much he wants to. He does lean into Dean a little, mostly just to offer his comfort and support. Dean's very adept at reading his silent cues and he offers a small smile of encouragement when Dean side-eyes him.

"'Cause," Dean says with a sigh. He rubs a hand over his head, sucking his teeth when his fingers tangle in Sam's girly mop. "And I'm not using your froo froo hair shit." He's hoping the subject change will work. Sam gives him a bitch-face (which is hilarious with his face) but doesn't comment; he just sits there, arms crossed, face all pissy and waiting expectantly. "I didn't wanna jinx it, okay?" He looks at Cas and grits his teeth at the sappy ass look he's getting. It's annoying only because he can't do anything about it wearing Sam's gigantor self. "I didn't want to you hate me, either."

Sam blinks, arms flopping down. "Dean," he says slowly. Softly. His brother looks away, gaze locking with Cas for a long moment before his jaw clenches and he aims his glare down at the mauve carpet. "Dude, I would've been fine about it." He nods when Dean side-eyes him, looking skeptical. "Okay, it woulda taken a couple minutes for me to get with the idea, in practice, you guys were defiling the motel room when I wasn't around-"

"We make love, Sam. We do not defile each other or our surroundings," Castiel puts in, brows pinched together a little with slight irritation and chastisement.

Sam and Dean make the same groaning sound, face-palming simultaneously. It would be hilarious if they both weren't completely freaked.

"Cas," Dean mutters, leaning close enough to slide a hand along Cas' lower back. He wants to be annoyed Cas just says shit like that, but he can't be. He feels like a gigantic girl (fitting he's wearing Sammy - heh) when he feels all warm and fluttery instead. He's a huge freakin' sap but Cas is giving him that gummy, nose crinkling, eye squishing smile and he sighs softly in resignation.

Sam watches the pair, only slightly uncomfortable with the intimate display. It almost feels too intimate to be watching, but it's not something he hasn't actually seen before (except Dean actually touching Cas - that's new.) Neither of them are making any moves to get some privacy, so maybe it's no biggie. "Hey!" he shouts, no longer feeling warm and squishy for his brother and the angel when he sees Dean's (his) hand disappear under Cas' trench coat. "No," he says sternly, finger raised like he's scolding a dog, when Dean finally manages to quit staring at Cas and looks at him. He's tempted to smack Dean's nose to drive the point home.

"C'mon, Sammy!" Dean whines. He removes his hand from Cas' ass though, because Sam definitely has a point. "You didn't say I couldn't fool around with your body."

Sam scowls at Dean, caught between incredulity and annoyance that he would even have to say something like that in the first place. He kicks out a foot, catching Dean in the shin. He smirks when Dean yelps, hopping on one foot and grabbing his no-doubt throbbing shin. "No, Dean. I don't think Cas would appreciate it."

"I have no-" Castiel starts but abruptly closes his mouth when both Winchesters turn wide eyes on him. Sam looks uncomfortable and Dean... Well, Dean looks hurt and a little pissed off as well as surprised. A combination that never sits well with him. "I have no interest in Sam sexually, Dean," he says softly, assuming that's the cause for Dean's reaction. He smiles a little when Dean visibly relaxes a little, looking mollified. "But we will refrain if it makes Sam uncomfortable."

Dean huffs, annoyed. He kicks out at Sam, barking a victorious laugh when he nails Sam right on the shin, nearly the same spot Sam got him. Asshole with his freakin' boots. He hasn't fucked Cas all freakin' week, and now it's looking like a no-go on anything besides watching Star Trek marathon together. Fuckin' Sam with his 'no, Dean; don't bang your boyfriend in my body'. Which, yeah; Okay - it was kinda creepy when he put it that way, but he's getting desperate here.

Fuckin' witches, man.

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