"This is interesting," Sam said, flipping through the pages of the thick book. The pages make a soft shuffling noise as they landed, the creamy paper protesting the landing. Sam, Dean, and Castiel were researching for a case, all of them searching through the old texts. Sam and Castiel were enjoying it, but Dean was huffing and slapping around the pages. Finally, it got to the point that Sam became so annoyed that he took the book away from Dean. Dean sat there, arms folded, stealing glances at Castiel to keep himself preoccupied. Both Castiel and Sam knew not to mention it, Dean was very adamant about his heterosexuality, even more so now that he wasn't sure of it.

"What's interesting?" Dean asked.

"Is it relevant to the case?" Castiel asked, not even looking up from the book. Sam expected nothing less of the angel. Efficiency always.

"No, but it's interesting." Sam said, smirking slightly.

"Nerd." Dean commented.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Listen to this: 'In some cultures, freckles are considered signs of good luck'" He said.

"Well that's utter bullshit. I'm covered in freckles, but I'm about as lucky as… fuck." Dean thought for a moment, trying to think of a metaphor and coming up with nothing. "Whatever. Point is, I'm not lucky."

Sam felt his expression change into a smug smile as he read on. "It says: 'Freckles were considered lucky because they were thought to be angel kisses.'"

Dean grinned. "What can I say, I'm irresistible. So, tell me, Cas, who's been kissin' me all over? Was it Anna? I bet it was Anna." Dean looked down his own shirt, checking to see if there were freckles there. When he saw and was satisfied, he lifted the waistband of his pants, checking there too. "Jesus, she didn't miss anywhere, did she?"

Sam looked over at Castiel, finally noticing how red the man was turning. Castiel shook his head, "It wasn't Anna."

Dean stopped. "God, don't tell me it was Zachariah. If you tell me it was Zachariah, I'm going to hurl."

"It wasn't Zachariah." Castiel said, the blush reaching to the tips of his ears by this point. He was looking at his book pointedly, trying to keep his head ducked so the brunt of his blush would be hidden.

"Then who was it? Don't tell me it was you." Dean said with a laugh, clearly thinking that was out of the realm of possibility. Castiel didn't respond though, his jaw just clenching and he turned more red. "Cas?" Dean prompted, awaiting the angel to deny his accusation.

"Oh my god." Sam gasped. "Oh my god it was." He whispered.

Dean shot Sam a murderous look. "No, it wasn't, obviously. Tell him, Cas."

Castiel swallowed and looked up. "Dean."

"Oh god. You're joking, right?" Dean said softly, looking intrigued yet terrified.

"It… it was me," Castiel said. "But what you have to understand is-" Castiel was cut off by Dean pressing his lips against Castiel's. The kiss was chaste, but when the two of them pulled back, Sam couldn't tell who looked more surprised. They stared at each other for a moment before Castiel grabbed Dean by the collar and pulled him back in for another kiss, this time open-mouthed and passionate, full of emotions neither of them had the guts to say. Dean sighed into the kiss and carded his hands through Castiel's hair, tugging him even closer. They kissed languidly for a minute longer until Sam got fed up and started making gagging noises.

They separated with an unhappy sigh from Castiel and an eye-roll from Dean.

"As glad as I am to see that you guys have resolved your sexual tension, I would prefer not to see you sucking face. I am still trying to work on this case." Sam deadpanned, holding up the book he was reading.

Dean stuck out his tongue and grabbed Castiel's hand, pulling him down the hall in the direction of the bedroom. Before he left though, he said, "You're just jealous that you don't have any freckles-" Dean was going to continue making fun of Sam, but Castiel pressed his lips onto Dean's, efficiently shutting him up. That was the angel, efficiency always. They stumbled to the bedroom tangled up together, leaving Sam scowling alone in the kitchen. As soon as he heard the door click shut, Sam quickly stripped off her shirt, inspecting for freckles. There were none on his chest, and as far as he could see, none on his back. Cautiously he looked in his pants and winced.

"CAS! WHY IS THERE A SINGULAR FRECKLE ON MY LEFT BUTT CHEEK." Sam shouted.

"IT'S FROM… Dean stop it. You're distracting me. No, that's very nice, but very distracting. Yes, it's- oh. Oh. That's… nice… um… mmm… it's… I-IT'S F-FROM G-GABRIEL." Castiel answered, voice stuttering.

"FROM WHO NOW?"