Something Like That
Title: Something Like That
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Dean/Cassie
Spoilers: Route 66
Summary: Sam hadn't thought she was a threat.
Rating: Pg-13
Warning: Language. (Why do I even warn for that? It's a constant with me.) Cheating. Non-graphic sex.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but an overactive imagination
Sam's met a lot of Dean's old flings, and yeah, Cassie wasn't exactly a fling, but he hadn't though she was much of a threat. Y'know, until he heard the heavy breathing and Dean's hiss of arousal. Sam bit his lip, continuing up the driveway, thinking that there was no way this could be happening, no way in hell.
But the proof is right in front of him, silhoettes against closed curtains and fuck, he'd kill for these walls to be thick enough to hold sounds in. At least then he could pretend this wasn't Dean. But no, he can hear his brother muttering words, moans of pleasure.
Lump in his throat, Sam turns and hurries back to the motel.
He pretends to be asleep when Dean comes in later, clock reading 3:45. He can feel eyes on him as Dean makes sure he's gone enough to sleep through a train wreck, can hear his brother entering the bathroom, water running as he steps into the shower. Sam feels that lump growing and he's not sure he's even breathing when Dean comes back and crawls under the covers beside him.
The next morning, Sam looks like shit. He knows it even before he see's his reflection, hair mussed and eyes ringed, skin waxy from lack of sleep. Knows it before Dean tells him, asks, "Did you get any sleep last night?"
He can hear the panic in Dean's voice, knows his brother's more concerned with being caught than with Sam's well-being. He has to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at that, just shrugs, "Yeah, just bad quality, I guess."
He notices Dean relax, a subtle fall of shoulders that only he would notice, "You?"
Dean starts, "What?"
Sam leans against the counter, eyes locked onto Dean's spot at the table as he nurses his coffee, "How'd you sleep?"
Dean yawns, "Awesome."
Sam really wants to punch his brother right then but holds himself in check.
"Wanna talk about it?" Dean prods.
"'Bout what?" Sam asks cooly.
"The nightmare? Obviously that's why you didn't get any rest." Dean offers.
Sam shrugs, sad smile on his face that he hides by gazing into his mug, "Not really."
"But it was a nightmare, right?" Dean prods.
"Yeah...Yeah, something like that."