PixCT: 2-21: pixel

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"Hey," Dean called, walking into Sam's bedroom, "whose shoe?"

Sam, who was immersed in homework, pencil tucked behind one ear and a pen between his teeth, didn't hear Dean.

"Yo," Dean tried again, "earth to Sam, where'd the shoe come from?"

Sam glanced up to see the blue and white tennis shoe in Dean's hand, and he shrugged, turned back to his homework. "Katie's, I guess," he replied.

"Katie?" Dean echoed. He couldn't remember Sam's girlfriend being named Katie. Hell, he couldn't even remember Sam having a girlfriend, period.

"Study partner. She was over here earlier, remember? You asked her if she was free Friday night."

Dean narrowed his eyes, thinking, and then snapped his fingers. "Katie! Right! Lil' bit shorter than me, brown hair, small rack but nice ass?"

Sam huffed an agreement of, "Yeah, that'd be the one."

"So, why was her shoe on the floor in the living room?" Dean asked. Before Sam had a chance to answer, Dean exclaimed, "Dude, you did not!"

Sam looked up, pen still stuck stupidly in the side of his mouth like a lollipop. "Didn't do what?"

"You totally did her in the living room! Yeah, which was why she had to take off her shoes!"

Sam's eyes widened and then he slapped a hand over his face, shaking his head. "You are so dense sometimes."

"So...you two didn't get it on?"

"No, Dean, I didn't 'get it on' with her in the living room. Jesus."

"Oh." Dean sounded disappointed. He frowned, looking down at the tennis shoe. "So...where'd her shoe come from?"

"Probably fell out of her bag when she was looking for the paper we're working on together. She dumped a lot of stuff out of her bag. She's in track, so I'm guessing she carries them with her for practice. I'll take it back to her tomorrow."

Dean didn't say anything for a moment. He placed the shoe on top of Sam's bookshelf and crossed the room to sit down on Sam's bed. With Dean quiet, Sam went back to his homework, making annoyed little sighs when the numbers on his calculus didn't quite figure out like he wanted.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean said after a long moment.

"Yeah."

"Y'know, if you wanted..." Dean stopped, cleared his throat. "If you wanted to, I mean, y'know, you could..."

Sam turned around in his chair to look at Dean, who was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "You okay, Dean?"

"Yeah, fine, just saying, that if you, well, if you wanted a girlfriend, you can have one."

Confused, Sam answered a pinched, "Yeah, okay, whatever you say." He was just turning back to his homework when Dean spoke again.

"No, I'm serious. I just--I don't want you to think that you can't because of, y'know, well...us."

Sam's eyes widened and he smirked. "Are you serious?"

"Um, yeah."

Still smiling, Sam shook his head and put his pen down next to his opened textbook. He walked over to Dean, stood in front of him, and said, "You're such a dork sometimes."

"What?"

Laughing, Sam shoved Dean so that Dean fell backwards and Sam crawled onto the bed, knees on either side of Dean's hips. Sam tugged out Dean's shirt and slid his hands underneath, touching bare skin as he leaned forward to bring his face closer to Dean's.

"So, you think I won't get a girlfriend because I'm afraid that, what, you'll be upset?"

Dean nodded weakly. "Well, something like that, I guess."

Sam rocked his hips against Dean's crotch, sending a spark of heat from Dean's cock to his throat, and Sam grinned, amused. Beneath Dean's shirt, Sam's hands were rubbing and touching every inch of skin they could reach.

"Look," Sam whispered, pressing his mouth close to Dean's ear, "I know you mean well, but Dean..." Sam licked a hot line down Dean's neck. When he lifted his mouth away, he finished, "Dean, you really think I'd choose just some girl over you?" He shifted his hips again, and Dean groaned. "Over this?"

"Well," Dean replied, cupping his hand around the back of Sam's head, "let's hope not." He kissed Sam, hard and rough, and laughing, they tumbled down together.

End

supernatural, cock thursday, wincest, fanfiction, ct: february