Sam's officially the last one out of bed. Which makes sense, kind of, since he was the last one in bed. He's fairly sure he remembers Dean climbing over him and kneeing him in the back but he was too damn tired to even complain, or flail with an arm.
So he's the last one to find his way out of the bathroom to the kitchen (he doesn't remember their motel having a kitchen, but it's amazing what you can get used to with Gabriel around.)
He follows the smell of waffles. There's also a vaguely suggestive smell of burning that tells him Castiel has been attempting to cook again.
Righteous angel of the lord he may be, breakfast chef he is not.
Dean's busy trying to share his completely unburnt waffles with Castiel, who's remaining his usual fussy self. Gabriel has acquired Sam's laptop, but Sam's not sure he wants to know what he's doing with it. Though Wikipedia should probably be worried. He has his own plate of waffles that look like they've been snapped out of thin air rather than made from scratch.
Sam has the last chair half pulled out when he notices something.
Castiel is wearing flannel.
Sam eyeballs Dean in a 'what did you do?' sort of way.
Dean shrugs and gestures at the angel, like it's nothing to do with him.
The sleeves of the shirt Castiel's wearing are rolled up enough times for Sam to be fairly sure that it's one of his. Which is weird, since it's Castiel.
"Are you wearing one of my shirts?" he asks.
"Yes," Castiel says simply.
Sam can't decide if asking 'why' is a good idea. He's afraid he's not awake enough for this yet.
He ends up with a strange mixture of perfect waffles and ones which are crispy at the edges on his plate. Gabriel pours maple syrup all over them without looking. Sam doesn't know whether he should complain about that or not. But he's still distracted by Castiel.
"Did something horrible happen to your clothes?" he asks.
Gabriel snorts and Castiel spares a moment to scowl at him.
"No, Dean simply declared that wearing the same clothes all the time was 'skanky'."
Sam raises an eyebrow and decides that at some point they're going to have a discussion about picking up words from Dean. No angel should have Dean's vocabulary. Except maybe Gabriel, who gets a free pass with swearwords and innuendo due to being completely mental and a little bit of a psychopath.
"Heard that," Gabriel supplies, from somewhere behind Sam's laptop. He reaches out without looking and steals one of Castiel's waffles.
"Don't get maple syrup on my keys, please," Sam tells him. Then turns back to Castiel.
"Dean said you wouldn't mind." Castiel looks horribly serious now. Like he thinks he might have made some sort of terrible miscalculation as to the ok-ness of clothes-sharing in their relationship. Considering the sounds Castiel was making under Sam this morning the clothes-sharing is probably more than ok.
"No," Sam says quickly. "I mean, sure, it's totally fine."
There's a pause where Castiel divides his attention between the shirt and the waffles.
"He said doesn't mind," Dean says suddenly. "Stop worrying about it."
It takes his brother a second to realise there might have been something strange about that.
"You didn't say that out loud, did you?" Dean looks like he doesn't know whether to be worried or not. Castiel doesn't look worried - well maybe about the flannel still, not about the sudden and unexpected mind-reading.
"Psychic bleed," Gabriel says, around a truly spectacular mouthful of waffle. "We've been on the same team exactly a year, and it was bound to happy eventually considering how often we spend in bed together. You can't double team an Archangel without consequences, boys."
"I'm going to be able to read your mind?" Dean has a forkful of waffle raised accusingly. He drags it away when Gabriel looks sorely tempted to steal it.
"Meh, think of it more as dipping your toes in the ocean," Gabriel says with a shrug. Then smirks and narrows his eyes. "And the ocean looking back."
Sam cuts Gabriel a look that says in no uncertain terms. 'I do not like the fact that we weren't told about this.'
"Sam, we're angels, you really should have assumed it was never going to be normal."
"So what happens now?" Dean asks, like it's something unpleasant he's going to have to prepare for. To arm himself for.
Gabriel shrugs. "Nothing too disturbing, a few tentacles, some psychic sex, the inevitable Nephilim."
Dean drops his fork and shoots Castiel a horrified look.
Castiel gives Gabriel his famous 'I am not related to you' bitchface. Sam knows that one far too well.
"Too easy," Gabriel says smoothly. "Far too easy."
He uses the distraction to steal Dean's waffles.