(no subject)
Bazinga!
Title: Static-2
Author: bitchandjerk
Characters: Sam/Dean, John, Bobby. OCs
Rating :nc-17
Words10,000/20,000
Warnings: Wincest, language, sexual situations.
Summary: It's the summer after Sam's freshman year. Dean's on the other side of the country when Sam calls for help.
Notes:: rest are here.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Feedback: Makes me hard
It had been a couple of years since Dean had been to California, or at least the general area of Palo Alto. He had been really far North and way down South where they didn't have fucking juice bars every three blocks. Dean had no idea what a juice bar was but they were everywhere and they all seemed to be packed. He couldn't believe that Sam was actually living in a place that was overflowing with yuppie douche bags who went out to places just to buy juice. That was what Dean assumed was happening since he saw people walking around with their little cups and their bright cheery California smiles.
California in general was probably the last state in the country Dean would want to live in and he found that whole San Francisco-San Jose-Sacramento area particularly undesirable. He didn't really know why he felt that way but when he thought about it all he could imagine were shiny haired people listening to bad music and apparently spending too much money on fucking juice or coffee. Dean didn't see too many coffee people which he assumed was because it was hotter than hell outside and they all needed nice refreshing juices. It was a fucking miracle that Sam was able to live in such a horrible place, but Dean understood sacrifices had to be made for school.
As soon as Dean arrived in Palo Alto he had called Sam to get directions to the dorm only to find out that he wasn't in a dorm or an apartment. He was living in a house somewhere and Dean tried to prepare himself for meeting eight other guys all rooming together. He was way too fucking tired to deal with that and suggested they meet somewhere else so they could talk without eight roommates having a farting contest. Dean was also starving so he suggested a restaurant and even said it was going to be his treat.
Sam surprised him twice by saying he had no roommates and that he was going to fix lunch for them. Dean didn't know what statement was stranger and he didn't really care either. All he was concerned about was that Sam sounded much better. He still had a little sad tone to his voice, but he wasn't upset as he had been when he first called. That night he had obviously been crying and Dean was so sure he got in a car accident or something. If that was the case Sam probably would have mentioned it, but he didn't so Dean was left to assume he wasn't in any kind of physical pain which had him a little worried.
If Sam had broken his leg or gotten mugged Dean could deal with that. He'd help him out until he got better or track down and kill the fucker that hurt his brother. Physical pain was easy because Dean had a wallet full of money and he knew he could find a liquor store somewhere. He figured they could hang out, get fucked up, and maybe take turns popping pain pills for the hell of it. After some time passed Sam would be okay and Dean would have at least partially forgotten how much of a giant asshole John was. Sam could start his second year at school and Dean could go right back to hunting. That was a plan and Dean thought it was a good one.
Emotional pain was something else and Dean was really scared since he wasn't much of a talker. He could listen and he planned to but he was worried that Sam was going to have a real problem he couldn't help with. Just thinking about having to sit next to Sam while he poured his heart out made Dean's stomach clench up and it was already hurting from hunger pains. He needed to eat, avoid happy people with their juice, and really just hope for the best.
Dean was driving down a road with a name he couldn't even pronounce when he spotted a rather large cemetery across from an even larger high school. Those were the two landmarks Sam had told him to look out for so he checked his rearview mirror and then moved over into the left hand lane so he could turn onto Old Trace Road. Dean could read and pronounce that but he still thought that maybe he had gotten lost because he was in the middle of the damn 'burbs. It was a little creepy and Dean had to slow down to let a group of kids stop the basketball game that was happening in the middle of the street. He was even more creeped out when the kids all waved to him as he drove past.
The next street Sam had mentioned was Old Trace Court which was just a little cul-de-sac which six or so houses on it. Sam had said to keep on driving and to pass that street up but Dean had to stop and blink a couple of times because there was a little boy who had set up shop selling lemonade in front of his house. He had the little wood sign and a big picture of a lemon. He was apparently doing a pretty good business as well because there were a bunch of other kids gathered around the stand. That's when Dean knew he had made a wrong turn because things were a little too wholesome and there was no way Sam could afford to live in any of the houses he was looking at.
They were all sort of small houses, but they were kept up and in a fantastic area. Every house had a manicured lawn and a fancy mailbox in front of it. It also seemed like every house had a family living in it. Dean saw lots of toys on porches and more basketball hoops than he could count. The street was also rife with mini-vans and SUVs which he assumed people owned to transport their kids around since he couldn't think of a single other reason why anyone would buy a van.
Just when he was about to call Sam to get the directions again, Dean spotted the street he was looking for which was Ohlone Lane. Sam had pronounced it "Oh-Lo-Nay" but Dean was pretty sure he was just going to call it "O-Loan." since he couldn't imagine himself putting the flair on it. Sam had said it so naturally but then he had been in California for a year and Dean assumed he had gone native and was probably making "MoHo Fra-Jo-Lees" for lunch or something else that was going to give him the shits.
The address Sam had given was 2214 and Dean found it easily at the end of Ohlone which was another cul-de-sac. Whoever developed the land must have gotten a deal on the bulk pack of cul-de-sacs because Dean was sure they were everywhere, just as sure as he was that Sam must have been fucking with him. 2214 was probably the nicest house on the street and Dean was sure the rent was probably well over fifteen hundred dollars a month if not more. Seeing it made Dean's stomach clench all over again because the only way he could imagine Sam paying rent on such a nice house was it he got a job selling coke to his classmates.
The house, like all the ones around it, was a sort of warm rusty beige stucco color. There were some wind chimes in front and a pretty lavish garden. Dean was so confused and the fact that there was a gigantic blonde guy out front wasn't helping anything. The guy had to be at least at tall as Sam, but Dean was focused on how huge his arms were. He had on a sleeveless shirt and his arms looked like two cannons coming out of his shoulders. He was picking up boxes that looked pretty heavy two at a time and loading them into the back of his truck like they were pillows.
After parking in the street Dean got out and slipped his gun into the back of his jeans because he was a little scared of the giant in the driveway. Since Sam hadn't said what was going on Dean's mind was still racing and he was worried that the giant was a disgruntled roommate or fellow drug dealer that was being forced out of the house against his will. Sam might have called for help, but he was giving Dean was too much credit if he thought for a second he could take on his gigantic friend. Luckily the neighbors were having a garage sale so Dean was hoping they'd help out if he got in a fight.
"Excuse me?" Dean said as he walked over. "Hi."
"Hi yourself." The man said as he stuck out his hand. "Logan."
"Um…Dean. Hi.
"Nice ride, man. Not a lot of guys can pull off a car like that. You're Sam's brother, right?"
"Thanks and yeah, I am. Is he here?"
"He's in the backyard." Logan said before he leaned forward. "I didn't want to get into it, but tell him me and Jamie got his back."
"Yeah, sure…um…backyard's…"
"Right down the driveway. This is the last box, I'm out of here."
"Okay." Dean smiled. "Nice to meet you."
"You too, man. Nice jeans by the way."
"Oh…thanks."
Logan smiled one of those dazzling optical white California smiles and then hit Dean in his shoulder so hard he almost knocked him over. Dean wasn't really scared of him anymore but he was still completely confused and a little concerned. That thing about the jeans sounded like an insult and Dean didn't think there was anything wrong with the way he was dressed. Granted his jeans were a little snug, but they were the only clean pair he had since he was on the road when he was supposed to be doing laundry two days ago.
After his truck was all packed up Logan jumped in the driver's seat and sped off towards destinations unknown. He was a weird guy, but Dean couldn't dwell on that since he had been awake for almost forty-eight hours and the last few steps of his trek were about to come to a close. He was a little ripe from not showering and Dean was sure his breath wasn't as fresh as it could be, but it had been over a year since he last saw Sam and he couldn't wait help him so they could just hang out together.
Logan was telling the truth because Sam or someone who looked like he was in the backyard painting a chair bright candy apple red. When Sam had left for school he was skinny, pale, and sort of awkwardly tall, but apparently California agreed with him. He had some color to his skin and while he was still tall he wasn't skinny anymore. He was just wearing a pair of jeans while he worked and every muscle in his stomach, chest, and arms was standing out loud and proud. That convinced Dean that Sam was really in trouble because he was dealing drugs and using steroids. Either that or he was taking advantage of the gym at school. Dean didn't know and he didn't care because seeing Sam reminded him of how much he missed his little brother.
Sam must have been working out there all morning because he was soaked in sweat. The waistband of his jeans was darker than the rest of the denim and his hair was all wet around his forehead. Dean noticed that when Sam looked up and wiped off his face. He had left a little boy, but Sam had taken a year to become a great big man and Dean was a little proud of him, unless he was selling drugs.
"Dean."
"Hey, Sammy." Dean laughed. "Wow, look at you."
"I've probably got paint everywhere." Sam said as he put down his brush. "I wanted to finish this chair so it could dry."
"I meant you're all grown up."
"Oh, yeah. My roommate last year was disgusting so I spent most of my time at the gym."
"I guess I'm not going to win if we arm wrestle. I'll be sure not to bet."
"Thanks for coming, Dean."
"Yeah, Sammy." Dean nodded. "You said you needed me."
"I do."
More than anything Dean wanted to know what the problem was but he knew that was going to be a bummer. He was either going to get upset or pissed off and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to spend some time with Sam and catch up. He decided to not ask what the big deal was and wait for Sam to bring it up. If it really was an end of the world problem Sam either would have told him on the phone two days ago, or blurted it out right then and there. He didn't do that, but he did move forward to awkwardly stick out his hand. Dean shook it at first but that felt more awkward so he pulled Sam into a hug which felt right in so many different ways.
Hugging Sam was getting that affection Dean so desperately wanted from John. He also got that sense of camaraderie right off that bat that he had been missing since Sam left. Dean didn't have any friends so he didn't really get a chance to hang out and just be a guy with the guys. With one hug he got all of that from Sam and for someone who was never really scared of anything, Dean got to feel safe which he wasn't expecting. He wasn't expecting to feel so comfortable either which was what ultimately made him back away after what was probably way too long.
"You hungry?" Sam asked. "I made this like…this big ass sandwich."
"How big?"
"It's like three feet long."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Yeah, it's pretty big." Sam laughed. "Turkey and ham…roast beef too."
"Awesome. Oh, that giant guy said that him and his girlfriend had your back."
"His girlfriend?"
"Some chick named Jamie?"
"Oh…" Sam said. "Yeah, right. Come on. There's some beer in the refrigerator. Do you have a bag or anything?"
"I left it in the car."
"Okay, you can get it later. You can park in the driveway if you want."
"Uh…sure, yeah. Is that an invite to stay here?"
"Of course." Sam said as he opened the back door. "If you want to."
"Beats another motel."
"Well, hopefully."
Sam held the door open for Dean to walk in first and he sure as hell wasn't unimpressed. All he could see was the kitchen but that was enough because there really wasn't a gigantic sandwich on the counter. Sam had just split a loaf of French bread in half and stuffed it so full Dean didn't know how he was going to get it in his mouth and he didn't care. It was the most appetizing thing he had ever seen in his life and to make it even better there were four bags of chips next to it. Dean was a big chip fan and there was little that thrilled him more than a big variety.
After he got a beer, but before they had lunch Sam took Dean on the grand tour of the house, which was really nice. It wasn't a huge place, but Sam was just one guy living alone so he didn't need a lot of space. Dean thought things looked a little bare, but apparently Sam had only moved in a month ago. There was only a chair and a television on the ground in the living room and in one of the bedrooms, which Sam was using as an office had a card table, a folding chair, and his laptop.
The nicest and most completed room in the house was Sam's bedroom. He had a really nice bed and everything was neat and clean, but Dean noticed something very strange. The closet was open and it was half empty in a very obvious way. It wasn't like Sam just didn't have a lot of clothes, it was like someone else had been sharing the closet with him and that person was no longer in the picture.
Some bitch had obviously broke Sam's heart which just pissed Dean off. Sam was one of the nicest people he had ever met and he didn't deserve to be so upset about a girl who didn't know a good thing when it was living in the same room as her. Logan must have been a friend of hers or maybe even her brother and she had sent him to pick up her shit. Dean was pissed off about that too but at least him and his girlfriend were on Sam's side.
"I was living with someone." Sam said as he closed the closet. "It didn't work out."
"When did you two break up?"
"Thirty seconds before I called you?"
"I'm sorry, Sammy."
"Thanks."
"Fuck 'em!" Dean said before he clapped. "We'll hang out for a couple of days, rent some movies, drink some beer. You'll forget all about her."
"Actually, uh…"
"Say no more, Sammy. We're going to have lunch and hang out and we can talk about it later."
"Okay."
"I don't want you thinking about her. Don't even say her name."
"That's not going to be a problem."
"Good. I'm starving."
"Let's eat then."
Dean patted Sam on his shoulder and then followed him out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. Dean wasn't an expert on relationships falling apart, but he knew a thing or two about no good bitches. He was going to listen to Sam, talk shit about the girl he had never met, and then the two of them could go out and find new girls. If Sam wasn't ready for a new chick to have a little fun with Dean knew they could at least go check out some strippers.
Sam could probably clean up at a bar or a strip club, in fact, he could probably go anywhere and find himself a great girl. He was just one of those really handsome guys with a great personality that always made everyone around him feel good. Dean had been having an awful time with John and just a few minutes with Sam had changed everything for him. He felt like a brand new man, and a happy man as well which was something he hadn't felt in a while.
"I don't have a sleeping bag or anything." Sam said as he cut the sandwich. "We'll have to bunk together again like when we were kids. Dean?"
"What?"
"You okay?"
"Uh…" Dean said before he laughed. "I'm just hungry and tired. What'd you say?"
"We'll have to share the bed. Is that okay with you? We can go buy a sleeping bag."
"Don't worry about that." Dean smiled. "Bed looks big."
"Cool. Which bag of chips should I open?"
"All of them." Dean laughed. "What kind of question is that?"
"I thought so. Just wanted to be sure."
Dean's sandwich was without a doubt the best on he had ever had. The chips were great too and because Sam had taken the beer out of the freezer it was extra cold and frosty. It was a good meal but there was no denying that the company was a hell of a lot better and Dean decided to not take Sam out to some loud strip club, not when they could stay in and just talk.
While Dean took a much needed shower Sam went out and moved the Impala into the driveway. It felt so weird to be driving it, but Sam didn't want it in the street where the kids in the neighborhood sometimes played ball. Sam kept having crazy flashes of Dean running out there punching kids in their faces for denting his car so it was best that it be moved to the nice safe driveway. It actually looked pretty good there and Sam took a couple of minutes to appreciate it before grabbing Dean's bags out of the backseat.
Since he had asked to borrow some clothes Sam thought that laundry time was probably a week or a month or so overdue. Before he left for school Sam had been regularly conned into doing Dean's laundry so he made sure to prepare himself before unzipping the bags. There was no telling what he might find inside and just to play it safe Sam brought over the garbage can from the kitchen. That ended up working in his favor because the first thing he pulled out before even getting to the clothes was half a bag of crush Funyuns, which explained why the bag smelled like fake onions.
Sam then found what had to be at least thirty pairs of black boxer briefs, which made him laugh a lot louder than he intended to. Dean had long abhorred doing laundry and his philosophy was that clothes were clean until they got visible stains on them. He could wear a pair of jeans for a solid month before he even thought about washing them and if he spilled coke all over a black shirt it was okay because it didn't show. The only thing he refused to wear repeatedly was underwear. Because he didn't like to do laundry he'd usually just buy himself a new pack when he ran out which wasn't exactly thrifty, but he always had clean undies when he needed them.
Because Dean was in the shower Sam moved all the underwear into a spare laundry basket. He always washed underwear in hot water and Dean had already said he planned on using all of it up to wash off road grime. Moving the underwear actually made Sam laugh again because they were all kind of smashed down and crammed into the bag. Moving them had fluffed them up some and made a little mountain of underwear. He was totally going to have to do a whole load of underwear but that with okay with Sam because he knew once they were clean Dean wouldn't have to do laundry until sometime in December.
The second layer in the bag was devoted to t-shirts. Dean really favored dark colors so Sam moved them from the bag and right into the washer. That was about a half load so he kept on digging to find three pairs of jeans, a completely squished and melted Snicker's bar, two guns and something that Dean had obviously tried to gift wrap. It was a small box that was covered in the funny pages which Sam carefully set aside because he assumed it was important. He did the same thing with the guns and was surprised that they didn't look out of place next to a big bottle of stain remover which was about to come in handy.
Way down in the treacherous depths of Dean's bag were the shirts which he had worn during really fantastic meals. They were so badly stained that he hadn't even bothered trying to wash them, but Sam had always liked a challenge and if the stain remover didn't work he did have two guns within reach. The first shirt he found was something Dean had worn while eating meatballs and spaghetti. Sam knew it was meatballs and not meat sauce because there was a big splotch on the chest and then a trail left where the ball had rolled. There was another smaller splotch on the tails of the shirt, which made Sam think Dean had probably stabbed the meatball in his lap and then went right on eating.
The second shirt Sam found was stained against the chest as well, but it's origin was a little harder to figure out. It was a little dusty white with tiny green flecks in it which made Sam rule out any emission on Dean's part. Judging by the shape of it Dean had obviously scooped it off with something and because there was a faint halo of orange Sam was going to have to go with buffalo wings and bleu cheese dressing. Even if he hadn't noticed the orange he would have guessed buffalo wings mainly because it had to be bleu cheese since Dean had long claimed that eating salads really made his vagina hurt.
Going through the rest of the shirts was like eating out at an all you can eat buffet. Sam found pizza stains, the better part of a French fry, and three separate shirts that had died a pie related death. He spread all of the shirts out on top of the dryer and doused them with stain remover. There was a very good chance he might have to scrub some of them but that was okay because Dean didn't have a lot of clothes and Sam was sure he'd appreciate having his wardrobe doubled.
After sorting through the rest of the clothes and spraying a few more stains Sam left the laundry room and went back into the kitchen. The sandwich was still out and had to be wrapped up but he was pretty sure Dean would want another hunk after his shower. Because he wanted to kind of clean up the kitchen some he cut that hunk off and then stopped everything he was doing because he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the microwave. Sam not only had a huge smile on his face, but once he saw it he realized his face actually hurt from smiling. Laundry was a chore, but doing Dean's laundry had made him really genuinely happy, which was a nice chance of pace.
"You have a ridiculous amount of…soap shit." Dean said as he walked into the kitchen. "Why do you have so much…soap shit?"
"Wha…what?"
"Body wash and soap and face stuff and like foot soap. What's the deal with that?"
"Not mine."
"Oh…oh, you mean…" Dean said before he dried off his hair some. "I got it. If she comes looking for her face soap I used it on my pits."
"I'll remember that." Sam laughed. "I cut you another piece of sandwich."
"Awesome."
"And I'm doing some laundry…your laundry."
"Dude, really?" Dean asked. "I was going to do it."
"No big deal, your guns are in the laundry room, and there was a present in there."
"Oh, shit. I forgot about that." Dean laughed. "Go get it. I got it for your birthday and never called to find out where to send it."
"It's for me?"
"Yeah. I should have sent it."
Dean took his sandwich and put it on the table before he resumed drying off the inch of hair he had on his head. He looked so funny in the pajama pants he had taken out of the closet because they were way too big and baggy on him even after he rolled the waist. He hadn't even bothered with a shirt, which Sam assumed was because he knew he'd get laughed at. All of Sam's shirts would have swallowed him whole, but going shirtless was fine because in about an hour all his own t-shirts would be nice and clean.
Sam was really excited about the present because Dean had gone out of his way to buy it for him. It probably wasn't going to be much but Sam already knew he'd treasure it simply because of how guilty Dean looked since he had forgotten. Sam didn't really celebrate his birthday much and a late present was better than none. For his last birthday Sam had gone out to dinner with Drake and a couple of his friends which had been damn near unbearable. That night they jerked off together because Drake wanted to make him happy on his birthday which he could have done without the dinner with stupid friends.
"The guy at the store said they were awesome." Dean shrugged. "I don't know."
"I'm sure it is awesome." Sam said as he undid the tape. "Duct tape's a nice touch."
"Yeah, I was all out of scotch tape and fancy ribbon."
"I'll get you some at the store."
"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate that."
Sam laughed and then finally managed to unpick the duct tape that Dean had used generously. When he got the paper off he smile and then smiled bigger when he saw how nervous Dean looked. He didn't have anything to worry about though because the guy at whatever store he had gone to was right and an iPod was awesome. Sam was probably the only person at school who wasn't walking around listening to music between classes and because of Dean he'd get to do that. Sam had also "accidentally forgotten" to pack a couple of Drake's Cd's which he was going to rip as soon as he got the chance.
"This is perfect, thank you."
"You can buy songs and put them on there I guess."
"Yeah, it's cool. Thanks, Dean."
"No problem, Sammy. You'll know how to set it up."
"Yeah, yeah, it's apparently pretty easy and…"
"Son of a…" Dean said before he sighed. "It's easy?"
Sam nodded and then stopped talking because Dean's phone was ringing again. It rang twice while they were eating and then again right before he went to take his shower. Sam was surprised it hadn't rung while he was in there and he was sort of hoping it had because wondering why Dean wasn't answering was killing him. Sam knew it was John because no one else would have the balls to bother Dean as frequently as he was. Part of Sam liked that Dean kept ignoring up, but he sort of did want him to answer it so John wouldn't start calling other phones.
"Can't take a hint I guess."
"He's going to call me if you don't answer."
"Then you won't answer." Dean laughed. "Works for me."
"When's the last time you saw him?"
"Right after I got off the phone with you. He was fucking some twenty year old girl on the tailgate of his truck."
"Excuse me?"
"Of course that was after he invited me for a threesome and the bartender asked to suck my dick."
"Uh." Sam said before he sat down. "Wow."
"You're telling me."
"You saw him with this girl?" Sam asked. "Like he was just out in public?"
"Parking lot of the motel. He fucked her, pulled out, came all over her, and then went down on her."
"Holy shit."
"Sammy, since you left he's been spreading it around like crazy. This chick was fucking sleazy too. She was all over me and I eventually told her to go fuck dad."
"You didn't like her?"
"Too easy." Dean said as he shook his head. "It's like playing basketball with a stepladder."
"Wow…and the bartender?"
"I'm sitting there, just got invited to fuck some chick with my dad and he's heard it, right?"
"Yeah."
"He says 'I just want to suck your dick'. Like I wouldn't have had to do anything. Said he wanted my load." Dean said. "Fucking faggot."
"That's crazy, I…"
"He wasn't a faggot." Dean said. "He wasn't like obvious, I shouldn't have called him that."
Sam felt more uncomfortable than he even thought possible. The stuff about John was just plain disturbing, Dean calling someone a faggot made him feel a little sad, but most of all he was uncomfortable because his dick had gone from completely flaccid to rock hard with just seven little words. Sam didn't give a fuck who the bartender was or if he was a faggot, he got major props for straight out saying he wanted to suck Dean's dick. The idea of a guy like Dean just sitting back while some other guy sucked on his cock was just about the hottest thing Sam had ever imagined. It was so hot he didn't even feel guilty about it.
"He…he must have been brave."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, you're sort of intimidating." Sam said. "You could have kicked his ass."
"Probably, but I'm hot, stuff like that happens. He just picked the wrong time to hit on me."
"So if dad hadn't just asked you to join in you would have let him blow you?"
"No." Dean laughed. "I think I could do better. With all these juice bars around here, you must have guys hitting on you."
"What do juice bars have to do with that?"
"Juice…" Dean shrugged. "Made from fruit."
"You are so dumb." Sam laughed. "God."
"I saw like eight gay guys when I was driving in. I can tell shit like that. I have what they call homo-dar, it's like radar."
"Which is why you thought Jamie was Logan's girlfriend."
"What?" Dean asked. "Wait a minute, that gigantic guy was a fruit?"
"No, he's gay. Jamie is his boyfriend."
"Oh…okay. That actually makes a lot of sense. He was here picking up stuff for his hag and he hit on me."
"He hit on you?"
"He said I had nice jeans." Dean whispered. "Jeans that made my ass look hot I bet."
"What if he had asked to blow you?"
"Dude, yeah. I'd be afraid to tell him no. He must be totally into you."
"Why?"
"You got like the abs." Dean said as he patted his stomach. "And like the jeans with the ass and stuff. They love that. Gay guys are really into ass."
"Okay." Sam sighed. "I have to tell you something."
"Dude, if you let that guy blow you that's not any of my business. Did he swallow?"
"Not that."
"Oh…okay."
Dean seemed determined to step in as much shit as he could and Sam wanted to help out with that. If he just kept on talking he was just going to say more stuff he'd want to take back later. Sam wasn't offended at all, yet, and he did think that gay guys at juice bars was pretty funny, but most of all he wanted to be honest with Dean. He needed his help and Sam couldn't lie to him or withhold things about himself. He wanted them to actually be a family again and for that happen he needed him to know that he was gay, he had never had a girlfriend, and he loved juice bars.
"I was with someone for almost a year. We met at school and then we moved in together last month."
"What did I say?" Dean asked. "We're not talking about that yet. It's a downer."
"But I need to…"
"You're going to ruin our good times by talking about this chick, Sammy." Dean said. "I can tell."
"I was with a guy, Dean. There's no chick."
Dean had just taken a big bite of his sandwich and was apparently chewing it as slowly as humanly possible. Sam knew he was buying time which was just fine because he honestly had no idea where to go from there since he hadn't actually ever thought about having to come out to anyone. At school people just knew because Sam was with a guy and all his friends were gay guys. He wasn't flamboyant by any means but it just wasn't something he had to tell people.
"Whut?" Dean said before he swallowed. "A guy?"
"Drake." Sam nodded. "His name was Drake. I'm…gay."
"Gay."
"Yes."
"Huh." Dean laughed awkwardly. "That's something. Now I feel really bad about calling that guy a faggot."
"That's okay." Sam shrugged. "I don't care about stuff like that."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Pitcher?"
"Um…I don't know, but I'm not…I think not."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean asked before putting down his sandwich. "Were you letting this guy fuck you or what?"
"We never had sex. That's why he cheated on me."
"He fucking cheated on you!" Dean yelled. "Where is he!"
"What?"
"I'll kick his ass!"
"Um…"
"Were you making sandwiches and doing his laundry and shit?"
"Yeah, um…I was."
"What the fuck!"
Dean got up from where he was sitting with such force that his chair slammed into the wall. Sam was worried about it leaving a mark, but it was fine, Dean however was not. He grabbed his beer and started to pace the kitchen while his face got redder and redder. Sam was prepared for him to be pissed off, but he expected Dean to be pissed off that he was gay, not because someone had cheated on him. He was also a little concerned about what whether or not he was a top had to do with it. Sam had sort of assumed he'd be less okay with having a gay little brother who took it up the ass, but it didn't seem too important to him.
"It's not really a big deal, I…"
"The hell it isn't! Sammy, you tell me where he's at and I'll kick his ass so hard no one will ever want it again."
"I don't want you to do that. Can you sit down?"
"That's bullshit!" Dean yelled. "What the fuck!"
"Dean, please." Sam said before he stood up. "I have neighbors. It's okay."
"It's not fucking okay, Sammy." Dean said. "You can't say you care about someone and then fuck it all up."
"You're right, but I'm okay and it's really nothing to get upset over because…"
Sam was about to tell Dean it was okay because there were worse things in the world than getting cheated on when he really wanted to say he was okay because his brother was there. He couldn't bring himself to say that because it sounded so gay after just coming out. Sam never got to say that or anything else before Dean was crashing into him and they were both falling backwards onto the freshly painted table.
It happened so quickly Sam wasn't even really sure what was going on until he tasted mustard and beer on Dean's lips and his tongue. It was spicy mustard which Sam just loved on sandwiches and was even better on Dean. He was kissing him with such force that it hurt, but Sam didn't complain and he felt like no matter what else happened in his life he might never complain again. It was the most shocking and incredible thing that had ever happened to him and he never wanted it to end.
It wasn't some sweet first kiss like so many people had, it was raw and painful with their teeth mashing together in such a way that Sam's gums actually began to throb. Dean wasn't being gentle at all, he was going for it like he was expecting it to end at any second, but Sam sure as hell wasn't going to end it. Dean felt too good on top of him and he tasted better than anything else Sam could imagine. Once the spicy mustard was gone it was like cherries with a little bit of heat behind them.
After the longest time their tongues stopped moving and their hands stopped roaming long enough for Dean to back away. His face was still red but it wasn't anger anymore. He was sweating, out of breath, and panting, which made him look even better. Sam could barely breathe waiting for him to say something but Dean didn't speak. He just lowered his head and kissed Sam on the lips as gently as he could. It was a perfect moment, at least until Dean's phone rang again and jolted them both back to reality.
While Sam took a shower Dean decided to check out that garage sale down the street. It had caught his eye when he pulled up to Sam's house, but he was so excited to get inside he hadn't really seen what they were selling. Normally he had absolutely no use for garage sales but that was before he realized Sam was living in a mostly empty house that was in desperate need of some furniture. Dean was realistic and knew the pickings would be slim, but all he really wanted was a sofa and maybe a desk. Those were things Sam needed and he knew he wasn't going to be picky about what he got as long as he had something.
After walking over Dean very quickly struck garage sale gold. They had a sofa, a desk, and a proper desk chair none of which had been sold yet. Because it was getting late they had already reduced the prices twice and Dean was sure he could haggle them down a little further. The sofa was originally marked for two hundred which Dean thought was ridiculous for a garage sale but it was really nice. The wife that was hosting the garage sale told him that it came from some fancy store and that for an additional ten dollars she'd throw in the slipcover. The sofa itself was cream, but the slipcover was red which Dean took as a sign since Sam had so much red in the house already. Marked down it was still a hundred dollars and the desk and chair combo was another hundred. Two hundred and ten was pretty steep for second hand furniture so Dean offered one eighty for everything and an additional twenty two whoever helped him lug the stuff to Sam's house.
The woman tried to get Dean to offer some more but her husband butted in and took the money citing any friend of Sam's was a friend of his. Dean also thought he was pretty sick and tired of the whole garage sale thing considering it was about two hundred degrees out. Dean had only been out there for a second and he was already working up a sweat. He was even worse off after the three trips it took to move the stuff into the house. Dean just put everything in the living room and thanked the very nice man again who said he was glad to help.
Since Sam was still in the shower Dean worked quickly to get the slipcover on the sofa and then move it into position. Getting the slipcover on was probably the most annoying and difficult thing Dean had ever done in his life. He put it on inside out first and then backwards. When he thought he had it the third time he realized all the extra pieces with zippers on them were meant to go over the cushions instead of crammed behind them. He was already tired from the drive in and the fucking slipcover wore him down even further. He finally managed to get it done when he heard the shower turn off he also heard, at the exact same moment, his cell phone ring again.
Dean had been all set to keep on ignoring it but John was just going to keep calling and pissing him off. He realized he could have simply turned the phone off and been done with it all together, but that was something he never did. It was one of those rules they set up and straight to voicemail meant there was trouble. John was an asshole but Dean didn't want him worrying about where his number one soldier went.
"Yeah?"
"I've been calling you for two days. Why the hell haven't you answered the phone?"
"I'm busy doing my own thing."
"A case?"
"No, Sammy called and…"
"Oh…" John said before he laughed. "Right, your precious Sammy."
Never in his life had Dean ever heard a person say someone else's name with such disdain. That was a damn shame and even worse that it was said by Sam's own father. Hearing that fucking forced laugh pissed Dean off even more and if he hadn't been so interested in what John would say he would have closed the phone, turned it off, and never turned it on again. If he was stronger or smarter Dean would have completely cut John out of his life and been infinitely better because of it.
"I'm going to be here for a couple of days."
"What's wrong with him?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean something must be wrong if he had to call big brother and you had to drive all the way across the country."
"He actually…uh…"
"This is the first time he's called you since he left, right?" John asked. "When he needed something?"
"He didn't need something, dad. He needed me. Sometimes people need me. People like me."
"Well, good luck with that, Dean."
"You're not going to make me come back?"
"No." John said. "I'm going to keep working and wait for you to come back. Your brother's going to be as selfish as he always is and you're not going to have anywhere else to go."
"He's not selfish."
"That's not the way I remember him."
Dean shook his head and then finally closed the phone. He shouldn't have even answered the damn thing, but at least John would stop calling and interrupting them or bothering them as it was. Dean didn't think he had interrupted anything unless something was about to happen the last time John had called. If something was about to happen, which would completely be Sam's call to make, Dean was going to be even angrier with John and punch him in the face the next time he saw him.
To be on the safe side Dean shoved his phone in between the cushions of the sofa, that way it wasn't off, but he still wouldn't be able to hear it ring. Once it was safely hidden Dean stood back up to inspect his work. The slipcover still looked a little funny but it was better than nothing and once Sam got a stand for the television he'd have a nice little set-up in the living room. The neighborhood was pretty big and there was a chance they could hit another garage sale to see what else they had or maybe even check out a second hand store.
"What's all this?"
"I got it for you." Dean said as he looked over. "Because you don't have one."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I guess you answered the phone, huh?"
"Yeah, I did."
Sam was standing in the doorway to the living room with his hair still wet from the shower. He had changed into a black undershirt and his hair was dripping on his mostly bare shoulders and the little drops were rolling down his arms leaving little shiny trails. There was about ten feet between them but Dean could smell him, it was that mixture of soap, deodorant, and shampoo that did amazing things when combined with the way Sam normally smelled. Dean had dealt with that pretty much his whole life and never before had it affected him in anyway. It was affecting him now and making his heart race again just like it had in the kitchen.
"A desk too?" Sam asked. "And a chair?"
"It was a pretty good sandwich, Sammy."
"That sofa is really nice." Sam said as he moved closer. "Was it a lot?"
"Two hundred for everything."
"I can't pay you back."
"You don't have to." Dean said as he shook his head. "It's pretty comfortable."
"Lemme check it out."
When Sam sat down he bounced a few times to test the sturdiness of the sofa which was exactly what Dean had done before he made an offer on it. It didn't matter how nice it looked if it wasn't going to hold on to Sam lounging on it to watch television or if he had a couple of friends over. While he watched Sam test the sofa out Dean began to wonder about friends and why none of them had been called to deal with the breakup crisis. He also wondered why Sam really called him, which just pissed him off. He hadn't cared either way before he talked to John and then out of nowhere the doubt started to creep in along with that desperately familiar feeling of uselessness.
"Why'd you call me?"
"What?"
"You said you needed help." Dean said. "What did you need help with?"
"The person I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with had just cheated on me." Sam said. "Now is this you asking or dad?"
"Don't you have friends you could have called?"
"Several." Sam nodded. "They could have been over here in ten minutes with bad movies and ice cream."
"Then why call me?"
"Because I didn't need bad movies and ice cream. I needed my brother."
"I'm sorry."
"What did he say to you?"
"That you were selfish."
"If I was selfish I think I would have ordered you to come help me." Sam sighed. "This is what he does, it's what he always does. He makes you feel like shit so you think that's the only way to feel and it's not."
Dean got up from the sofa and paced the small living room twice before sitting down in Sam's fancy new black desk chair. Sam was, of course, absolutely right about John and Dean knew it, but he still didn't like to hear it out loud. John had spent years trying to keep both of them down so they'd never think there was something else out there worth having or doing. It worked like a charm for Dean but Sam refused to buy into it. He knew there was a better life and he went to go find it. Maybe what he had with Drake wasn't perfect but it was a hell of a lot better than whatever John could offer.
"So you just need me?" Dean asked. "That's it? You called me because I'm your brother and you needed me for me."
"And I uh…I can't afford to live here." Sam said. "I know you can get money and was hoping you could help me out for a while until I find a job. I don't have one because Drake told me not to get one and now all the jobs are taken because school's out."
"Did you call me because you needed money?"
"No. I would have called even if I knew you didn't have money because just having you here helps."
"And that's it?" Dean asked. "If I don't…you don't want anything else for me?"
"I just want you to be my brother, Dean. I'm not using you…I wouldn't do that. You know that."
"So then you don't want anything else from me?"
"I think we both know that's not true."
"In the kitchen." Dean said as he stood up. "Earlier, was that because you needed money?"
"Did I make you kiss me because I needed money?"
"I'm not fuckin' laughing, Sam!" Dean yelled. "This isn't funny!"
In the second after Dean yelled he realized that Sam wasn't laughing. He was just smiling in the way that only he could. It was a smile that could easily become a laugh and something Dean had really missed over the past year. When Sam would smile the right side of his top lip would curl up first to realize just the smallest hint of his bright white teeth. When he would laugh, if a smile turned into a laugh, all of his perfect teeth would be visible. Dean used to think they were too white, but then he used to think a lot of things.
When Dean yelled that smile faded fast and he hated himself because Sam actually looked a little scared. Dean hadn't meant to scare him or be a jerk, he was just already confused before he got there and things got worse pretty damn quick. Sam was right though, he hadn't done anything. It was Dean who couldn't imagine why in the hell anyone would ever cheat on Sam, who was perfect, smart, beautiful, and just the greatest fucking person anyone would ever meet. He was amazing and some asshole had thrown that away and Dean wasn't going to do the same. He didn't care if he was going to get shot down, at least he had tried after realizing his feelings weren't as impossible as he once thought. Feelings he had tried very hard to ignore for a very long time. Feelings he had almost completely forgotten about.
"I think it's funny if you think I'd ever make you do something you didn't want to do."
"I'm sorry."
"I know how dad gets to you, Dean." Sam said. "Can you tell me everything you want to or ask me everything you want to so we can not talk about him anymore?"
"Is that the plan?" Dean asked. "We just never talk about him again?"
"It's worked out well for me."
"What about me? When you left here did you forget about both of us?"
"Of course not."
"Then why didn't you call?"
"I got into a relationship as soon as I got here. I was busy with Drake and then school…and then I couldn't call because you'd ask how things were going and I…I couldn't imagine telling you I was a fag."
"Sammy." Dean whispered. "I don't care about that."
"Well, obviously." Sam laughed. "I realize that now."
All Dean cared about, all he had ever cared about was whether or not Sam was happy. He didn't give two shits about where he was sticking his dick as long as he was happy doing it. If Sam had called right after he met Drake that's what Dean would have told him because it was the God's honest truth. The other thing Dean cared about was how fucking relieved he was that Sam hadn't stuck his dick anywhere. Drake didn't deserve him in anyway and he certainly wasn't deserving of being the first man Sam was with.
"You calling me a fag?"
"No, just someone who doesn't care if his brother is."
"You're not a fag, Sammy." Dean sighed. "In the kitchen…maybe I shouldn't have done that."
"I don't recall resisting."
"Can I get something a little more concrete?"
"Sure." Sam smiled. "I had absolutely no problem with what happened in the kitchen."
"And if it happens again?"
"I'd have no problem with that either."
"What if something else happened?"
"Dean, I don't know what you want me to say." Sam said as he shook his head. "You've been here for two hours and I honestly…I honestly can't remember the last time I felt this happy or safe and anything you want to happen is going to be okay with me."
"I…I make you happy?"
"Of course you do." Sam said before he stood up. "You always have, Dean and you would even if nothing ever happened between us. You're my brother and you're the best person I know."
"No one's ever said I made them happy."
"If they had you wouldn’t have heard them."
"Why?"
"Static."
Dean blinked a few times to clear the tears from his eyes. He felt like a bitch for crying but he couldn't help it. Hearing that he made another person happy shouldn't have affected him so severely but fucking John had worked his ass off at keeping him down and reminding him that he was only good at fighting and killing. Until Sam said it out loud Dean didn't think he'd ever be good at much of anything else. That made Dean happier than he had ever been and terrified all over again because he wanted to be even happier and he didn't know how to get there.
"I don't hate him."
"Neither do I." Sam shrugged. "Hating him would take time and energy I just don't have."
"I don't know what to do, Sammy."
"No one's asking you to do anything right now. You're so tired, Dean. Why don't you go take a nap and I'll finish the clothes and we can talk and eat dinner later."
"Okay."
"Take the bedroom." Sam smiled. "It's pretty dark in there with the curtains closed."
Dean nodded and closed his eyes before he sucked up his breath. The idea of resting in a comfortable clean bed while wearing clean clothes sounded like the best fucking thing in the world. Sam was right and he was exhausted beyond measure. Not only had he driven for two days straight, but the past hour had really worn him out. He wanted sleep and lots of it followed by some more of that sandwich and whatever Sam was going to make them for dinner.
All Dean had to do was walk past Sam and down the hallway to get to that big comfortable bed. He could see it from where it was standing and it wasn't even made. The idea of sleeping under sheets that smelled like Sam caused something to rip through Dean's entire body. He felt it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, but it was most obvious in the swell of his cock. He was tired of the bullshit and all the fucked up shit John had laid on him over the years. Dean was done with all of it and he decided right then and there to do what he wanted because he was his own man and no man's bitch or soldier.
That determination convinced Dean that he should make another move but with all his dwelling on John's bullshit made that impossible. Sam made his first move and unlike Dean he wasn't rushed or frantic or worried about being stopped. He knew Dean wasn't going to do a damn thing to stop him so he took his time and he made one little kiss, one utterly innocent kiss, last what felt like a lifetime.
There were still tears down Dean's cheek which Sam cleared away first with the side of his thumb. Dean could actually feel the nail on Sam's thumb separate each of his bottom eyelashes as he moved across his cheek. For just a second Sam's thumb has the smallest sheen on it from the tears which he brought to him mouth with deliberate intent. The look on his face when he licked his thumb clean terrified and excited Dean in ways he never thought possible.
Since Sam was taller he had to lean down just slightly for their lips to touch. It was so gently that Dean didn't think they were actually kissing until he felt Sam's tongue move against his bottom lip for a moment. It was quick, he moved with a fluidity Dean didn't think possible. He could have dragged his tongue, but Sam has just grazed Dean's bottom lip before his own two perfect lips closed around it. Dean was dazed and completely distracted but he managed to close his mouth and catch Sam's top lip the very second before he pulled away. It was better than the kiss in the kitchen and even if they ended up kissing a million more times Dean knew it was never going to get any better.
"It makes sense now."
"What does?"
"How you managed to keep this guy for a year." Dean said. "Without letting him inside."
"Is that a compliment?"
"You bet you ass it is, little brother."
"Can I ask you something?"
"If I can ask you something." Dean said. "Sure."
"Why'd you drop everything and come here so fast?"
"Because I love you." Dean answered. "Why didn't you sleep with him?"
"Because I love you."
Dean nodded again before kissing Sam's palm. He went straight to the bedroom after that and crawled in under the sheets that smelled better than he imagined. He was asleep within seconds and the last thing he saw was Sam standing in the doorway waiting for him to drift off.
Title: Static-2
Author: bitchandjerk
Characters: Sam/Dean, John, Bobby. OCs
Rating :nc-17
Words10,000/20,000
Warnings: Wincest, language, sexual situations.
Summary: It's the summer after Sam's freshman year. Dean's on the other side of the country when Sam calls for help.
Notes:: rest are here.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Feedback: Makes me hard
It had been a couple of years since Dean had been to California, or at least the general area of Palo Alto. He had been really far North and way down South where they didn't have fucking juice bars every three blocks. Dean had no idea what a juice bar was but they were everywhere and they all seemed to be packed. He couldn't believe that Sam was actually living in a place that was overflowing with yuppie douche bags who went out to places just to buy juice. That was what Dean assumed was happening since he saw people walking around with their little cups and their bright cheery California smiles.
California in general was probably the last state in the country Dean would want to live in and he found that whole San Francisco-San Jose-Sacramento area particularly undesirable. He didn't really know why he felt that way but when he thought about it all he could imagine were shiny haired people listening to bad music and apparently spending too much money on fucking juice or coffee. Dean didn't see too many coffee people which he assumed was because it was hotter than hell outside and they all needed nice refreshing juices. It was a fucking miracle that Sam was able to live in such a horrible place, but Dean understood sacrifices had to be made for school.
As soon as Dean arrived in Palo Alto he had called Sam to get directions to the dorm only to find out that he wasn't in a dorm or an apartment. He was living in a house somewhere and Dean tried to prepare himself for meeting eight other guys all rooming together. He was way too fucking tired to deal with that and suggested they meet somewhere else so they could talk without eight roommates having a farting contest. Dean was also starving so he suggested a restaurant and even said it was going to be his treat.
Sam surprised him twice by saying he had no roommates and that he was going to fix lunch for them. Dean didn't know what statement was stranger and he didn't really care either. All he was concerned about was that Sam sounded much better. He still had a little sad tone to his voice, but he wasn't upset as he had been when he first called. That night he had obviously been crying and Dean was so sure he got in a car accident or something. If that was the case Sam probably would have mentioned it, but he didn't so Dean was left to assume he wasn't in any kind of physical pain which had him a little worried.
If Sam had broken his leg or gotten mugged Dean could deal with that. He'd help him out until he got better or track down and kill the fucker that hurt his brother. Physical pain was easy because Dean had a wallet full of money and he knew he could find a liquor store somewhere. He figured they could hang out, get fucked up, and maybe take turns popping pain pills for the hell of it. After some time passed Sam would be okay and Dean would have at least partially forgotten how much of a giant asshole John was. Sam could start his second year at school and Dean could go right back to hunting. That was a plan and Dean thought it was a good one.
Emotional pain was something else and Dean was really scared since he wasn't much of a talker. He could listen and he planned to but he was worried that Sam was going to have a real problem he couldn't help with. Just thinking about having to sit next to Sam while he poured his heart out made Dean's stomach clench up and it was already hurting from hunger pains. He needed to eat, avoid happy people with their juice, and really just hope for the best.
Dean was driving down a road with a name he couldn't even pronounce when he spotted a rather large cemetery across from an even larger high school. Those were the two landmarks Sam had told him to look out for so he checked his rearview mirror and then moved over into the left hand lane so he could turn onto Old Trace Road. Dean could read and pronounce that but he still thought that maybe he had gotten lost because he was in the middle of the damn 'burbs. It was a little creepy and Dean had to slow down to let a group of kids stop the basketball game that was happening in the middle of the street. He was even more creeped out when the kids all waved to him as he drove past.
The next street Sam had mentioned was Old Trace Court which was just a little cul-de-sac which six or so houses on it. Sam had said to keep on driving and to pass that street up but Dean had to stop and blink a couple of times because there was a little boy who had set up shop selling lemonade in front of his house. He had the little wood sign and a big picture of a lemon. He was apparently doing a pretty good business as well because there were a bunch of other kids gathered around the stand. That's when Dean knew he had made a wrong turn because things were a little too wholesome and there was no way Sam could afford to live in any of the houses he was looking at.
They were all sort of small houses, but they were kept up and in a fantastic area. Every house had a manicured lawn and a fancy mailbox in front of it. It also seemed like every house had a family living in it. Dean saw lots of toys on porches and more basketball hoops than he could count. The street was also rife with mini-vans and SUVs which he assumed people owned to transport their kids around since he couldn't think of a single other reason why anyone would buy a van.
Just when he was about to call Sam to get the directions again, Dean spotted the street he was looking for which was Ohlone Lane. Sam had pronounced it "Oh-Lo-Nay" but Dean was pretty sure he was just going to call it "O-Loan." since he couldn't imagine himself putting the flair on it. Sam had said it so naturally but then he had been in California for a year and Dean assumed he had gone native and was probably making "MoHo Fra-Jo-Lees" for lunch or something else that was going to give him the shits.
The address Sam had given was 2214 and Dean found it easily at the end of Ohlone which was another cul-de-sac. Whoever developed the land must have gotten a deal on the bulk pack of cul-de-sacs because Dean was sure they were everywhere, just as sure as he was that Sam must have been fucking with him. 2214 was probably the nicest house on the street and Dean was sure the rent was probably well over fifteen hundred dollars a month if not more. Seeing it made Dean's stomach clench all over again because the only way he could imagine Sam paying rent on such a nice house was it he got a job selling coke to his classmates.
The house, like all the ones around it, was a sort of warm rusty beige stucco color. There were some wind chimes in front and a pretty lavish garden. Dean was so confused and the fact that there was a gigantic blonde guy out front wasn't helping anything. The guy had to be at least at tall as Sam, but Dean was focused on how huge his arms were. He had on a sleeveless shirt and his arms looked like two cannons coming out of his shoulders. He was picking up boxes that looked pretty heavy two at a time and loading them into the back of his truck like they were pillows.
After parking in the street Dean got out and slipped his gun into the back of his jeans because he was a little scared of the giant in the driveway. Since Sam hadn't said what was going on Dean's mind was still racing and he was worried that the giant was a disgruntled roommate or fellow drug dealer that was being forced out of the house against his will. Sam might have called for help, but he was giving Dean was too much credit if he thought for a second he could take on his gigantic friend. Luckily the neighbors were having a garage sale so Dean was hoping they'd help out if he got in a fight.
"Excuse me?" Dean said as he walked over. "Hi."
"Hi yourself." The man said as he stuck out his hand. "Logan."
"Um…Dean. Hi.
"Nice ride, man. Not a lot of guys can pull off a car like that. You're Sam's brother, right?"
"Thanks and yeah, I am. Is he here?"
"He's in the backyard." Logan said before he leaned forward. "I didn't want to get into it, but tell him me and Jamie got his back."
"Yeah, sure…um…backyard's…"
"Right down the driveway. This is the last box, I'm out of here."
"Okay." Dean smiled. "Nice to meet you."
"You too, man. Nice jeans by the way."
"Oh…thanks."
Logan smiled one of those dazzling optical white California smiles and then hit Dean in his shoulder so hard he almost knocked him over. Dean wasn't really scared of him anymore but he was still completely confused and a little concerned. That thing about the jeans sounded like an insult and Dean didn't think there was anything wrong with the way he was dressed. Granted his jeans were a little snug, but they were the only clean pair he had since he was on the road when he was supposed to be doing laundry two days ago.
After his truck was all packed up Logan jumped in the driver's seat and sped off towards destinations unknown. He was a weird guy, but Dean couldn't dwell on that since he had been awake for almost forty-eight hours and the last few steps of his trek were about to come to a close. He was a little ripe from not showering and Dean was sure his breath wasn't as fresh as it could be, but it had been over a year since he last saw Sam and he couldn't wait help him so they could just hang out together.
Logan was telling the truth because Sam or someone who looked like he was in the backyard painting a chair bright candy apple red. When Sam had left for school he was skinny, pale, and sort of awkwardly tall, but apparently California agreed with him. He had some color to his skin and while he was still tall he wasn't skinny anymore. He was just wearing a pair of jeans while he worked and every muscle in his stomach, chest, and arms was standing out loud and proud. That convinced Dean that Sam was really in trouble because he was dealing drugs and using steroids. Either that or he was taking advantage of the gym at school. Dean didn't know and he didn't care because seeing Sam reminded him of how much he missed his little brother.
Sam must have been working out there all morning because he was soaked in sweat. The waistband of his jeans was darker than the rest of the denim and his hair was all wet around his forehead. Dean noticed that when Sam looked up and wiped off his face. He had left a little boy, but Sam had taken a year to become a great big man and Dean was a little proud of him, unless he was selling drugs.
"Dean."
"Hey, Sammy." Dean laughed. "Wow, look at you."
"I've probably got paint everywhere." Sam said as he put down his brush. "I wanted to finish this chair so it could dry."
"I meant you're all grown up."
"Oh, yeah. My roommate last year was disgusting so I spent most of my time at the gym."
"I guess I'm not going to win if we arm wrestle. I'll be sure not to bet."
"Thanks for coming, Dean."
"Yeah, Sammy." Dean nodded. "You said you needed me."
"I do."
More than anything Dean wanted to know what the problem was but he knew that was going to be a bummer. He was either going to get upset or pissed off and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to spend some time with Sam and catch up. He decided to not ask what the big deal was and wait for Sam to bring it up. If it really was an end of the world problem Sam either would have told him on the phone two days ago, or blurted it out right then and there. He didn't do that, but he did move forward to awkwardly stick out his hand. Dean shook it at first but that felt more awkward so he pulled Sam into a hug which felt right in so many different ways.
Hugging Sam was getting that affection Dean so desperately wanted from John. He also got that sense of camaraderie right off that bat that he had been missing since Sam left. Dean didn't have any friends so he didn't really get a chance to hang out and just be a guy with the guys. With one hug he got all of that from Sam and for someone who was never really scared of anything, Dean got to feel safe which he wasn't expecting. He wasn't expecting to feel so comfortable either which was what ultimately made him back away after what was probably way too long.
"You hungry?" Sam asked. "I made this like…this big ass sandwich."
"How big?"
"It's like three feet long."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Yeah, it's pretty big." Sam laughed. "Turkey and ham…roast beef too."
"Awesome. Oh, that giant guy said that him and his girlfriend had your back."
"His girlfriend?"
"Some chick named Jamie?"
"Oh…" Sam said. "Yeah, right. Come on. There's some beer in the refrigerator. Do you have a bag or anything?"
"I left it in the car."
"Okay, you can get it later. You can park in the driveway if you want."
"Uh…sure, yeah. Is that an invite to stay here?"
"Of course." Sam said as he opened the back door. "If you want to."
"Beats another motel."
"Well, hopefully."
Sam held the door open for Dean to walk in first and he sure as hell wasn't unimpressed. All he could see was the kitchen but that was enough because there really wasn't a gigantic sandwich on the counter. Sam had just split a loaf of French bread in half and stuffed it so full Dean didn't know how he was going to get it in his mouth and he didn't care. It was the most appetizing thing he had ever seen in his life and to make it even better there were four bags of chips next to it. Dean was a big chip fan and there was little that thrilled him more than a big variety.
After he got a beer, but before they had lunch Sam took Dean on the grand tour of the house, which was really nice. It wasn't a huge place, but Sam was just one guy living alone so he didn't need a lot of space. Dean thought things looked a little bare, but apparently Sam had only moved in a month ago. There was only a chair and a television on the ground in the living room and in one of the bedrooms, which Sam was using as an office had a card table, a folding chair, and his laptop.
The nicest and most completed room in the house was Sam's bedroom. He had a really nice bed and everything was neat and clean, but Dean noticed something very strange. The closet was open and it was half empty in a very obvious way. It wasn't like Sam just didn't have a lot of clothes, it was like someone else had been sharing the closet with him and that person was no longer in the picture.
Some bitch had obviously broke Sam's heart which just pissed Dean off. Sam was one of the nicest people he had ever met and he didn't deserve to be so upset about a girl who didn't know a good thing when it was living in the same room as her. Logan must have been a friend of hers or maybe even her brother and she had sent him to pick up her shit. Dean was pissed off about that too but at least him and his girlfriend were on Sam's side.
"I was living with someone." Sam said as he closed the closet. "It didn't work out."
"When did you two break up?"
"Thirty seconds before I called you?"
"I'm sorry, Sammy."
"Thanks."
"Fuck 'em!" Dean said before he clapped. "We'll hang out for a couple of days, rent some movies, drink some beer. You'll forget all about her."
"Actually, uh…"
"Say no more, Sammy. We're going to have lunch and hang out and we can talk about it later."
"Okay."
"I don't want you thinking about her. Don't even say her name."
"That's not going to be a problem."
"Good. I'm starving."
"Let's eat then."
Dean patted Sam on his shoulder and then followed him out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. Dean wasn't an expert on relationships falling apart, but he knew a thing or two about no good bitches. He was going to listen to Sam, talk shit about the girl he had never met, and then the two of them could go out and find new girls. If Sam wasn't ready for a new chick to have a little fun with Dean knew they could at least go check out some strippers.
Sam could probably clean up at a bar or a strip club, in fact, he could probably go anywhere and find himself a great girl. He was just one of those really handsome guys with a great personality that always made everyone around him feel good. Dean had been having an awful time with John and just a few minutes with Sam had changed everything for him. He felt like a brand new man, and a happy man as well which was something he hadn't felt in a while.
"I don't have a sleeping bag or anything." Sam said as he cut the sandwich. "We'll have to bunk together again like when we were kids. Dean?"
"What?"
"You okay?"
"Uh…" Dean said before he laughed. "I'm just hungry and tired. What'd you say?"
"We'll have to share the bed. Is that okay with you? We can go buy a sleeping bag."
"Don't worry about that." Dean smiled. "Bed looks big."
"Cool. Which bag of chips should I open?"
"All of them." Dean laughed. "What kind of question is that?"
"I thought so. Just wanted to be sure."
Dean's sandwich was without a doubt the best on he had ever had. The chips were great too and because Sam had taken the beer out of the freezer it was extra cold and frosty. It was a good meal but there was no denying that the company was a hell of a lot better and Dean decided to not take Sam out to some loud strip club, not when they could stay in and just talk.
While Dean took a much needed shower Sam went out and moved the Impala into the driveway. It felt so weird to be driving it, but Sam didn't want it in the street where the kids in the neighborhood sometimes played ball. Sam kept having crazy flashes of Dean running out there punching kids in their faces for denting his car so it was best that it be moved to the nice safe driveway. It actually looked pretty good there and Sam took a couple of minutes to appreciate it before grabbing Dean's bags out of the backseat.
Since he had asked to borrow some clothes Sam thought that laundry time was probably a week or a month or so overdue. Before he left for school Sam had been regularly conned into doing Dean's laundry so he made sure to prepare himself before unzipping the bags. There was no telling what he might find inside and just to play it safe Sam brought over the garbage can from the kitchen. That ended up working in his favor because the first thing he pulled out before even getting to the clothes was half a bag of crush Funyuns, which explained why the bag smelled like fake onions.
Sam then found what had to be at least thirty pairs of black boxer briefs, which made him laugh a lot louder than he intended to. Dean had long abhorred doing laundry and his philosophy was that clothes were clean until they got visible stains on them. He could wear a pair of jeans for a solid month before he even thought about washing them and if he spilled coke all over a black shirt it was okay because it didn't show. The only thing he refused to wear repeatedly was underwear. Because he didn't like to do laundry he'd usually just buy himself a new pack when he ran out which wasn't exactly thrifty, but he always had clean undies when he needed them.
Because Dean was in the shower Sam moved all the underwear into a spare laundry basket. He always washed underwear in hot water and Dean had already said he planned on using all of it up to wash off road grime. Moving the underwear actually made Sam laugh again because they were all kind of smashed down and crammed into the bag. Moving them had fluffed them up some and made a little mountain of underwear. He was totally going to have to do a whole load of underwear but that with okay with Sam because he knew once they were clean Dean wouldn't have to do laundry until sometime in December.
The second layer in the bag was devoted to t-shirts. Dean really favored dark colors so Sam moved them from the bag and right into the washer. That was about a half load so he kept on digging to find three pairs of jeans, a completely squished and melted Snicker's bar, two guns and something that Dean had obviously tried to gift wrap. It was a small box that was covered in the funny pages which Sam carefully set aside because he assumed it was important. He did the same thing with the guns and was surprised that they didn't look out of place next to a big bottle of stain remover which was about to come in handy.
Way down in the treacherous depths of Dean's bag were the shirts which he had worn during really fantastic meals. They were so badly stained that he hadn't even bothered trying to wash them, but Sam had always liked a challenge and if the stain remover didn't work he did have two guns within reach. The first shirt he found was something Dean had worn while eating meatballs and spaghetti. Sam knew it was meatballs and not meat sauce because there was a big splotch on the chest and then a trail left where the ball had rolled. There was another smaller splotch on the tails of the shirt, which made Sam think Dean had probably stabbed the meatball in his lap and then went right on eating.
The second shirt Sam found was stained against the chest as well, but it's origin was a little harder to figure out. It was a little dusty white with tiny green flecks in it which made Sam rule out any emission on Dean's part. Judging by the shape of it Dean had obviously scooped it off with something and because there was a faint halo of orange Sam was going to have to go with buffalo wings and bleu cheese dressing. Even if he hadn't noticed the orange he would have guessed buffalo wings mainly because it had to be bleu cheese since Dean had long claimed that eating salads really made his vagina hurt.
Going through the rest of the shirts was like eating out at an all you can eat buffet. Sam found pizza stains, the better part of a French fry, and three separate shirts that had died a pie related death. He spread all of the shirts out on top of the dryer and doused them with stain remover. There was a very good chance he might have to scrub some of them but that was okay because Dean didn't have a lot of clothes and Sam was sure he'd appreciate having his wardrobe doubled.
After sorting through the rest of the clothes and spraying a few more stains Sam left the laundry room and went back into the kitchen. The sandwich was still out and had to be wrapped up but he was pretty sure Dean would want another hunk after his shower. Because he wanted to kind of clean up the kitchen some he cut that hunk off and then stopped everything he was doing because he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the microwave. Sam not only had a huge smile on his face, but once he saw it he realized his face actually hurt from smiling. Laundry was a chore, but doing Dean's laundry had made him really genuinely happy, which was a nice chance of pace.
"You have a ridiculous amount of…soap shit." Dean said as he walked into the kitchen. "Why do you have so much…soap shit?"
"Wha…what?"
"Body wash and soap and face stuff and like foot soap. What's the deal with that?"
"Not mine."
"Oh…oh, you mean…" Dean said before he dried off his hair some. "I got it. If she comes looking for her face soap I used it on my pits."
"I'll remember that." Sam laughed. "I cut you another piece of sandwich."
"Awesome."
"And I'm doing some laundry…your laundry."
"Dude, really?" Dean asked. "I was going to do it."
"No big deal, your guns are in the laundry room, and there was a present in there."
"Oh, shit. I forgot about that." Dean laughed. "Go get it. I got it for your birthday and never called to find out where to send it."
"It's for me?"
"Yeah. I should have sent it."
Dean took his sandwich and put it on the table before he resumed drying off the inch of hair he had on his head. He looked so funny in the pajama pants he had taken out of the closet because they were way too big and baggy on him even after he rolled the waist. He hadn't even bothered with a shirt, which Sam assumed was because he knew he'd get laughed at. All of Sam's shirts would have swallowed him whole, but going shirtless was fine because in about an hour all his own t-shirts would be nice and clean.
Sam was really excited about the present because Dean had gone out of his way to buy it for him. It probably wasn't going to be much but Sam already knew he'd treasure it simply because of how guilty Dean looked since he had forgotten. Sam didn't really celebrate his birthday much and a late present was better than none. For his last birthday Sam had gone out to dinner with Drake and a couple of his friends which had been damn near unbearable. That night they jerked off together because Drake wanted to make him happy on his birthday which he could have done without the dinner with stupid friends.
"The guy at the store said they were awesome." Dean shrugged. "I don't know."
"I'm sure it is awesome." Sam said as he undid the tape. "Duct tape's a nice touch."
"Yeah, I was all out of scotch tape and fancy ribbon."
"I'll get you some at the store."
"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate that."
Sam laughed and then finally managed to unpick the duct tape that Dean had used generously. When he got the paper off he smile and then smiled bigger when he saw how nervous Dean looked. He didn't have anything to worry about though because the guy at whatever store he had gone to was right and an iPod was awesome. Sam was probably the only person at school who wasn't walking around listening to music between classes and because of Dean he'd get to do that. Sam had also "accidentally forgotten" to pack a couple of Drake's Cd's which he was going to rip as soon as he got the chance.
"This is perfect, thank you."
"You can buy songs and put them on there I guess."
"Yeah, it's cool. Thanks, Dean."
"No problem, Sammy. You'll know how to set it up."
"Yeah, yeah, it's apparently pretty easy and…"
"Son of a…" Dean said before he sighed. "It's easy?"
Sam nodded and then stopped talking because Dean's phone was ringing again. It rang twice while they were eating and then again right before he went to take his shower. Sam was surprised it hadn't rung while he was in there and he was sort of hoping it had because wondering why Dean wasn't answering was killing him. Sam knew it was John because no one else would have the balls to bother Dean as frequently as he was. Part of Sam liked that Dean kept ignoring up, but he sort of did want him to answer it so John wouldn't start calling other phones.
"Can't take a hint I guess."
"He's going to call me if you don't answer."
"Then you won't answer." Dean laughed. "Works for me."
"When's the last time you saw him?"
"Right after I got off the phone with you. He was fucking some twenty year old girl on the tailgate of his truck."
"Excuse me?"
"Of course that was after he invited me for a threesome and the bartender asked to suck my dick."
"Uh." Sam said before he sat down. "Wow."
"You're telling me."
"You saw him with this girl?" Sam asked. "Like he was just out in public?"
"Parking lot of the motel. He fucked her, pulled out, came all over her, and then went down on her."
"Holy shit."
"Sammy, since you left he's been spreading it around like crazy. This chick was fucking sleazy too. She was all over me and I eventually told her to go fuck dad."
"You didn't like her?"
"Too easy." Dean said as he shook his head. "It's like playing basketball with a stepladder."
"Wow…and the bartender?"
"I'm sitting there, just got invited to fuck some chick with my dad and he's heard it, right?"
"Yeah."
"He says 'I just want to suck your dick'. Like I wouldn't have had to do anything. Said he wanted my load." Dean said. "Fucking faggot."
"That's crazy, I…"
"He wasn't a faggot." Dean said. "He wasn't like obvious, I shouldn't have called him that."
Sam felt more uncomfortable than he even thought possible. The stuff about John was just plain disturbing, Dean calling someone a faggot made him feel a little sad, but most of all he was uncomfortable because his dick had gone from completely flaccid to rock hard with just seven little words. Sam didn't give a fuck who the bartender was or if he was a faggot, he got major props for straight out saying he wanted to suck Dean's dick. The idea of a guy like Dean just sitting back while some other guy sucked on his cock was just about the hottest thing Sam had ever imagined. It was so hot he didn't even feel guilty about it.
"He…he must have been brave."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, you're sort of intimidating." Sam said. "You could have kicked his ass."
"Probably, but I'm hot, stuff like that happens. He just picked the wrong time to hit on me."
"So if dad hadn't just asked you to join in you would have let him blow you?"
"No." Dean laughed. "I think I could do better. With all these juice bars around here, you must have guys hitting on you."
"What do juice bars have to do with that?"
"Juice…" Dean shrugged. "Made from fruit."
"You are so dumb." Sam laughed. "God."
"I saw like eight gay guys when I was driving in. I can tell shit like that. I have what they call homo-dar, it's like radar."
"Which is why you thought Jamie was Logan's girlfriend."
"What?" Dean asked. "Wait a minute, that gigantic guy was a fruit?"
"No, he's gay. Jamie is his boyfriend."
"Oh…okay. That actually makes a lot of sense. He was here picking up stuff for his hag and he hit on me."
"He hit on you?"
"He said I had nice jeans." Dean whispered. "Jeans that made my ass look hot I bet."
"What if he had asked to blow you?"
"Dude, yeah. I'd be afraid to tell him no. He must be totally into you."
"Why?"
"You got like the abs." Dean said as he patted his stomach. "And like the jeans with the ass and stuff. They love that. Gay guys are really into ass."
"Okay." Sam sighed. "I have to tell you something."
"Dude, if you let that guy blow you that's not any of my business. Did he swallow?"
"Not that."
"Oh…okay."
Dean seemed determined to step in as much shit as he could and Sam wanted to help out with that. If he just kept on talking he was just going to say more stuff he'd want to take back later. Sam wasn't offended at all, yet, and he did think that gay guys at juice bars was pretty funny, but most of all he wanted to be honest with Dean. He needed his help and Sam couldn't lie to him or withhold things about himself. He wanted them to actually be a family again and for that happen he needed him to know that he was gay, he had never had a girlfriend, and he loved juice bars.
"I was with someone for almost a year. We met at school and then we moved in together last month."
"What did I say?" Dean asked. "We're not talking about that yet. It's a downer."
"But I need to…"
"You're going to ruin our good times by talking about this chick, Sammy." Dean said. "I can tell."
"I was with a guy, Dean. There's no chick."
Dean had just taken a big bite of his sandwich and was apparently chewing it as slowly as humanly possible. Sam knew he was buying time which was just fine because he honestly had no idea where to go from there since he hadn't actually ever thought about having to come out to anyone. At school people just knew because Sam was with a guy and all his friends were gay guys. He wasn't flamboyant by any means but it just wasn't something he had to tell people.
"Whut?" Dean said before he swallowed. "A guy?"
"Drake." Sam nodded. "His name was Drake. I'm…gay."
"Gay."
"Yes."
"Huh." Dean laughed awkwardly. "That's something. Now I feel really bad about calling that guy a faggot."
"That's okay." Sam shrugged. "I don't care about stuff like that."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Pitcher?"
"Um…I don't know, but I'm not…I think not."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean asked before putting down his sandwich. "Were you letting this guy fuck you or what?"
"We never had sex. That's why he cheated on me."
"He fucking cheated on you!" Dean yelled. "Where is he!"
"What?"
"I'll kick his ass!"
"Um…"
"Were you making sandwiches and doing his laundry and shit?"
"Yeah, um…I was."
"What the fuck!"
Dean got up from where he was sitting with such force that his chair slammed into the wall. Sam was worried about it leaving a mark, but it was fine, Dean however was not. He grabbed his beer and started to pace the kitchen while his face got redder and redder. Sam was prepared for him to be pissed off, but he expected Dean to be pissed off that he was gay, not because someone had cheated on him. He was also a little concerned about what whether or not he was a top had to do with it. Sam had sort of assumed he'd be less okay with having a gay little brother who took it up the ass, but it didn't seem too important to him.
"It's not really a big deal, I…"
"The hell it isn't! Sammy, you tell me where he's at and I'll kick his ass so hard no one will ever want it again."
"I don't want you to do that. Can you sit down?"
"That's bullshit!" Dean yelled. "What the fuck!"
"Dean, please." Sam said before he stood up. "I have neighbors. It's okay."
"It's not fucking okay, Sammy." Dean said. "You can't say you care about someone and then fuck it all up."
"You're right, but I'm okay and it's really nothing to get upset over because…"
Sam was about to tell Dean it was okay because there were worse things in the world than getting cheated on when he really wanted to say he was okay because his brother was there. He couldn't bring himself to say that because it sounded so gay after just coming out. Sam never got to say that or anything else before Dean was crashing into him and they were both falling backwards onto the freshly painted table.
It happened so quickly Sam wasn't even really sure what was going on until he tasted mustard and beer on Dean's lips and his tongue. It was spicy mustard which Sam just loved on sandwiches and was even better on Dean. He was kissing him with such force that it hurt, but Sam didn't complain and he felt like no matter what else happened in his life he might never complain again. It was the most shocking and incredible thing that had ever happened to him and he never wanted it to end.
It wasn't some sweet first kiss like so many people had, it was raw and painful with their teeth mashing together in such a way that Sam's gums actually began to throb. Dean wasn't being gentle at all, he was going for it like he was expecting it to end at any second, but Sam sure as hell wasn't going to end it. Dean felt too good on top of him and he tasted better than anything else Sam could imagine. Once the spicy mustard was gone it was like cherries with a little bit of heat behind them.
After the longest time their tongues stopped moving and their hands stopped roaming long enough for Dean to back away. His face was still red but it wasn't anger anymore. He was sweating, out of breath, and panting, which made him look even better. Sam could barely breathe waiting for him to say something but Dean didn't speak. He just lowered his head and kissed Sam on the lips as gently as he could. It was a perfect moment, at least until Dean's phone rang again and jolted them both back to reality.
While Sam took a shower Dean decided to check out that garage sale down the street. It had caught his eye when he pulled up to Sam's house, but he was so excited to get inside he hadn't really seen what they were selling. Normally he had absolutely no use for garage sales but that was before he realized Sam was living in a mostly empty house that was in desperate need of some furniture. Dean was realistic and knew the pickings would be slim, but all he really wanted was a sofa and maybe a desk. Those were things Sam needed and he knew he wasn't going to be picky about what he got as long as he had something.
After walking over Dean very quickly struck garage sale gold. They had a sofa, a desk, and a proper desk chair none of which had been sold yet. Because it was getting late they had already reduced the prices twice and Dean was sure he could haggle them down a little further. The sofa was originally marked for two hundred which Dean thought was ridiculous for a garage sale but it was really nice. The wife that was hosting the garage sale told him that it came from some fancy store and that for an additional ten dollars she'd throw in the slipcover. The sofa itself was cream, but the slipcover was red which Dean took as a sign since Sam had so much red in the house already. Marked down it was still a hundred dollars and the desk and chair combo was another hundred. Two hundred and ten was pretty steep for second hand furniture so Dean offered one eighty for everything and an additional twenty two whoever helped him lug the stuff to Sam's house.
The woman tried to get Dean to offer some more but her husband butted in and took the money citing any friend of Sam's was a friend of his. Dean also thought he was pretty sick and tired of the whole garage sale thing considering it was about two hundred degrees out. Dean had only been out there for a second and he was already working up a sweat. He was even worse off after the three trips it took to move the stuff into the house. Dean just put everything in the living room and thanked the very nice man again who said he was glad to help.
Since Sam was still in the shower Dean worked quickly to get the slipcover on the sofa and then move it into position. Getting the slipcover on was probably the most annoying and difficult thing Dean had ever done in his life. He put it on inside out first and then backwards. When he thought he had it the third time he realized all the extra pieces with zippers on them were meant to go over the cushions instead of crammed behind them. He was already tired from the drive in and the fucking slipcover wore him down even further. He finally managed to get it done when he heard the shower turn off he also heard, at the exact same moment, his cell phone ring again.
Dean had been all set to keep on ignoring it but John was just going to keep calling and pissing him off. He realized he could have simply turned the phone off and been done with it all together, but that was something he never did. It was one of those rules they set up and straight to voicemail meant there was trouble. John was an asshole but Dean didn't want him worrying about where his number one soldier went.
"Yeah?"
"I've been calling you for two days. Why the hell haven't you answered the phone?"
"I'm busy doing my own thing."
"A case?"
"No, Sammy called and…"
"Oh…" John said before he laughed. "Right, your precious Sammy."
Never in his life had Dean ever heard a person say someone else's name with such disdain. That was a damn shame and even worse that it was said by Sam's own father. Hearing that fucking forced laugh pissed Dean off even more and if he hadn't been so interested in what John would say he would have closed the phone, turned it off, and never turned it on again. If he was stronger or smarter Dean would have completely cut John out of his life and been infinitely better because of it.
"I'm going to be here for a couple of days."
"What's wrong with him?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean something must be wrong if he had to call big brother and you had to drive all the way across the country."
"He actually…uh…"
"This is the first time he's called you since he left, right?" John asked. "When he needed something?"
"He didn't need something, dad. He needed me. Sometimes people need me. People like me."
"Well, good luck with that, Dean."
"You're not going to make me come back?"
"No." John said. "I'm going to keep working and wait for you to come back. Your brother's going to be as selfish as he always is and you're not going to have anywhere else to go."
"He's not selfish."
"That's not the way I remember him."
Dean shook his head and then finally closed the phone. He shouldn't have even answered the damn thing, but at least John would stop calling and interrupting them or bothering them as it was. Dean didn't think he had interrupted anything unless something was about to happen the last time John had called. If something was about to happen, which would completely be Sam's call to make, Dean was going to be even angrier with John and punch him in the face the next time he saw him.
To be on the safe side Dean shoved his phone in between the cushions of the sofa, that way it wasn't off, but he still wouldn't be able to hear it ring. Once it was safely hidden Dean stood back up to inspect his work. The slipcover still looked a little funny but it was better than nothing and once Sam got a stand for the television he'd have a nice little set-up in the living room. The neighborhood was pretty big and there was a chance they could hit another garage sale to see what else they had or maybe even check out a second hand store.
"What's all this?"
"I got it for you." Dean said as he looked over. "Because you don't have one."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I guess you answered the phone, huh?"
"Yeah, I did."
Sam was standing in the doorway to the living room with his hair still wet from the shower. He had changed into a black undershirt and his hair was dripping on his mostly bare shoulders and the little drops were rolling down his arms leaving little shiny trails. There was about ten feet between them but Dean could smell him, it was that mixture of soap, deodorant, and shampoo that did amazing things when combined with the way Sam normally smelled. Dean had dealt with that pretty much his whole life and never before had it affected him in anyway. It was affecting him now and making his heart race again just like it had in the kitchen.
"A desk too?" Sam asked. "And a chair?"
"It was a pretty good sandwich, Sammy."
"That sofa is really nice." Sam said as he moved closer. "Was it a lot?"
"Two hundred for everything."
"I can't pay you back."
"You don't have to." Dean said as he shook his head. "It's pretty comfortable."
"Lemme check it out."
When Sam sat down he bounced a few times to test the sturdiness of the sofa which was exactly what Dean had done before he made an offer on it. It didn't matter how nice it looked if it wasn't going to hold on to Sam lounging on it to watch television or if he had a couple of friends over. While he watched Sam test the sofa out Dean began to wonder about friends and why none of them had been called to deal with the breakup crisis. He also wondered why Sam really called him, which just pissed him off. He hadn't cared either way before he talked to John and then out of nowhere the doubt started to creep in along with that desperately familiar feeling of uselessness.
"Why'd you call me?"
"What?"
"You said you needed help." Dean said. "What did you need help with?"
"The person I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with had just cheated on me." Sam said. "Now is this you asking or dad?"
"Don't you have friends you could have called?"
"Several." Sam nodded. "They could have been over here in ten minutes with bad movies and ice cream."
"Then why call me?"
"Because I didn't need bad movies and ice cream. I needed my brother."
"I'm sorry."
"What did he say to you?"
"That you were selfish."
"If I was selfish I think I would have ordered you to come help me." Sam sighed. "This is what he does, it's what he always does. He makes you feel like shit so you think that's the only way to feel and it's not."
Dean got up from the sofa and paced the small living room twice before sitting down in Sam's fancy new black desk chair. Sam was, of course, absolutely right about John and Dean knew it, but he still didn't like to hear it out loud. John had spent years trying to keep both of them down so they'd never think there was something else out there worth having or doing. It worked like a charm for Dean but Sam refused to buy into it. He knew there was a better life and he went to go find it. Maybe what he had with Drake wasn't perfect but it was a hell of a lot better than whatever John could offer.
"So you just need me?" Dean asked. "That's it? You called me because I'm your brother and you needed me for me."
"And I uh…I can't afford to live here." Sam said. "I know you can get money and was hoping you could help me out for a while until I find a job. I don't have one because Drake told me not to get one and now all the jobs are taken because school's out."
"Did you call me because you needed money?"
"No. I would have called even if I knew you didn't have money because just having you here helps."
"And that's it?" Dean asked. "If I don't…you don't want anything else for me?"
"I just want you to be my brother, Dean. I'm not using you…I wouldn't do that. You know that."
"So then you don't want anything else from me?"
"I think we both know that's not true."
"In the kitchen." Dean said as he stood up. "Earlier, was that because you needed money?"
"Did I make you kiss me because I needed money?"
"I'm not fuckin' laughing, Sam!" Dean yelled. "This isn't funny!"
In the second after Dean yelled he realized that Sam wasn't laughing. He was just smiling in the way that only he could. It was a smile that could easily become a laugh and something Dean had really missed over the past year. When Sam would smile the right side of his top lip would curl up first to realize just the smallest hint of his bright white teeth. When he would laugh, if a smile turned into a laugh, all of his perfect teeth would be visible. Dean used to think they were too white, but then he used to think a lot of things.
When Dean yelled that smile faded fast and he hated himself because Sam actually looked a little scared. Dean hadn't meant to scare him or be a jerk, he was just already confused before he got there and things got worse pretty damn quick. Sam was right though, he hadn't done anything. It was Dean who couldn't imagine why in the hell anyone would ever cheat on Sam, who was perfect, smart, beautiful, and just the greatest fucking person anyone would ever meet. He was amazing and some asshole had thrown that away and Dean wasn't going to do the same. He didn't care if he was going to get shot down, at least he had tried after realizing his feelings weren't as impossible as he once thought. Feelings he had tried very hard to ignore for a very long time. Feelings he had almost completely forgotten about.
"I think it's funny if you think I'd ever make you do something you didn't want to do."
"I'm sorry."
"I know how dad gets to you, Dean." Sam said. "Can you tell me everything you want to or ask me everything you want to so we can not talk about him anymore?"
"Is that the plan?" Dean asked. "We just never talk about him again?"
"It's worked out well for me."
"What about me? When you left here did you forget about both of us?"
"Of course not."
"Then why didn't you call?"
"I got into a relationship as soon as I got here. I was busy with Drake and then school…and then I couldn't call because you'd ask how things were going and I…I couldn't imagine telling you I was a fag."
"Sammy." Dean whispered. "I don't care about that."
"Well, obviously." Sam laughed. "I realize that now."
All Dean cared about, all he had ever cared about was whether or not Sam was happy. He didn't give two shits about where he was sticking his dick as long as he was happy doing it. If Sam had called right after he met Drake that's what Dean would have told him because it was the God's honest truth. The other thing Dean cared about was how fucking relieved he was that Sam hadn't stuck his dick anywhere. Drake didn't deserve him in anyway and he certainly wasn't deserving of being the first man Sam was with.
"You calling me a fag?"
"No, just someone who doesn't care if his brother is."
"You're not a fag, Sammy." Dean sighed. "In the kitchen…maybe I shouldn't have done that."
"I don't recall resisting."
"Can I get something a little more concrete?"
"Sure." Sam smiled. "I had absolutely no problem with what happened in the kitchen."
"And if it happens again?"
"I'd have no problem with that either."
"What if something else happened?"
"Dean, I don't know what you want me to say." Sam said as he shook his head. "You've been here for two hours and I honestly…I honestly can't remember the last time I felt this happy or safe and anything you want to happen is going to be okay with me."
"I…I make you happy?"
"Of course you do." Sam said before he stood up. "You always have, Dean and you would even if nothing ever happened between us. You're my brother and you're the best person I know."
"No one's ever said I made them happy."
"If they had you wouldn’t have heard them."
"Why?"
"Static."
Dean blinked a few times to clear the tears from his eyes. He felt like a bitch for crying but he couldn't help it. Hearing that he made another person happy shouldn't have affected him so severely but fucking John had worked his ass off at keeping him down and reminding him that he was only good at fighting and killing. Until Sam said it out loud Dean didn't think he'd ever be good at much of anything else. That made Dean happier than he had ever been and terrified all over again because he wanted to be even happier and he didn't know how to get there.
"I don't hate him."
"Neither do I." Sam shrugged. "Hating him would take time and energy I just don't have."
"I don't know what to do, Sammy."
"No one's asking you to do anything right now. You're so tired, Dean. Why don't you go take a nap and I'll finish the clothes and we can talk and eat dinner later."
"Okay."
"Take the bedroom." Sam smiled. "It's pretty dark in there with the curtains closed."
Dean nodded and closed his eyes before he sucked up his breath. The idea of resting in a comfortable clean bed while wearing clean clothes sounded like the best fucking thing in the world. Sam was right and he was exhausted beyond measure. Not only had he driven for two days straight, but the past hour had really worn him out. He wanted sleep and lots of it followed by some more of that sandwich and whatever Sam was going to make them for dinner.
All Dean had to do was walk past Sam and down the hallway to get to that big comfortable bed. He could see it from where it was standing and it wasn't even made. The idea of sleeping under sheets that smelled like Sam caused something to rip through Dean's entire body. He felt it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, but it was most obvious in the swell of his cock. He was tired of the bullshit and all the fucked up shit John had laid on him over the years. Dean was done with all of it and he decided right then and there to do what he wanted because he was his own man and no man's bitch or soldier.
That determination convinced Dean that he should make another move but with all his dwelling on John's bullshit made that impossible. Sam made his first move and unlike Dean he wasn't rushed or frantic or worried about being stopped. He knew Dean wasn't going to do a damn thing to stop him so he took his time and he made one little kiss, one utterly innocent kiss, last what felt like a lifetime.
There were still tears down Dean's cheek which Sam cleared away first with the side of his thumb. Dean could actually feel the nail on Sam's thumb separate each of his bottom eyelashes as he moved across his cheek. For just a second Sam's thumb has the smallest sheen on it from the tears which he brought to him mouth with deliberate intent. The look on his face when he licked his thumb clean terrified and excited Dean in ways he never thought possible.
Since Sam was taller he had to lean down just slightly for their lips to touch. It was so gently that Dean didn't think they were actually kissing until he felt Sam's tongue move against his bottom lip for a moment. It was quick, he moved with a fluidity Dean didn't think possible. He could have dragged his tongue, but Sam has just grazed Dean's bottom lip before his own two perfect lips closed around it. Dean was dazed and completely distracted but he managed to close his mouth and catch Sam's top lip the very second before he pulled away. It was better than the kiss in the kitchen and even if they ended up kissing a million more times Dean knew it was never going to get any better.
"It makes sense now."
"What does?"
"How you managed to keep this guy for a year." Dean said. "Without letting him inside."
"Is that a compliment?"
"You bet you ass it is, little brother."
"Can I ask you something?"
"If I can ask you something." Dean said. "Sure."
"Why'd you drop everything and come here so fast?"
"Because I love you." Dean answered. "Why didn't you sleep with him?"
"Because I love you."
Dean nodded again before kissing Sam's palm. He went straight to the bedroom after that and crawled in under the sheets that smelled better than he imagined. He was asleep within seconds and the last thing he saw was Sam standing in the doorway waiting for him to drift off.