SPN Fic ~ "Plausible Deniability"
Title: Plausible Deniability
Author: siriuslyyellow
Rating: R
Warning(s): Emotional!Sam/ConfusedAndImpulsive!Dean, incest, cursing, semi-angst, pondering, mentions of Ruby, brief mentions of Castiel and Anna, brief mention of their parents and Sam’s love interests
Spoilers: Up to and including season 4 episode 14, “Sex and Violence”
Word Count: 3,960
Challenge: ladyrhyanne, darkness, denial, belief, "Because I'm me and you're you and it'll never happen that way."
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. Woe.
Beta Acknowledgement: kowaiyoukai, you rock so hard! *gives wincest and cookies*
Summary: The boys discuss their multitude of issues.
A/N: This fic is for the February ’09 round of wincest_fic. It takes place a little over a week after 4x14, and has to do with what happens in that episode and earlier. I’ve felt the need for a while to explain some of the recent canon events, and this challenge seemed perfect for it. I may write a sequel if it’s well-received, because I have more of this story floating around in my head, but you know, I had to get it in by the deadline so, alas, I couldn’t write any more on it. Anywho, I hope you like it, ladyrhyanne! *hearts* ^__^*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dean woke up in a start, sweat beaded across his forehead. Another dream about hell. He was going to need serious therapy if this shit kept up. He looked over, and Sam wasn’t in his bed. Of course. The white hands on the motel wall’s clock said it was four in the morning. Dean got up to go to the bathroom and wash his face off. He looked in the mirror, saw a flash of something bloody and violent he’d rather forget, and stumbled back to bed. He sat on the edge of it, taking the time alone to think. Because he needed to come up with a plausible story, and fast.
Ever since Bedford, which was currently one week, three days, and fifteen hours behind them, Dean had managed to finagle his way out of having a heart-to-heart with Sam. That had been one week, three days, and fifteen hours of coffee runs. One week, three days, and fifteen hours of bathroom breaks. One week, three days, and fifteen hours of blatant, obvious lies.
Dean was a horrible liar, at least to Sam, and they both knew it. He was wondering why Sam didn’t just come out and ask him, but his curiosity wasn’t enough to bring it up. After all, how exactly did a guy explain to his little brother why a siren chose to be a little brother to lure him instead of a prostitute? He didn’t. He shut the hell up about it and hoped it would go away.
Unfortunately for Dean, Sam was quite perceptive. And even if he wasn’t, well, it didn’t take all that much to connect the dots on this one. It was just a matter of time before Sam picked up on it and cornered him, demanding the truth.
But what was the truth? Dean hardly knew himself. His strong belief was that the siren chose to emulate Sam because he was the most important person in Dean’s life. The person who Dean loved the most, and the person who Dean would do anything for. It made total sense in a non-incestuous, completely heterosexual way. That’s what Dean kept telling himself, and that was the plausible story he was going to use if Sam ever got down to asking.
But then, he had to think back to the cases. In all of them, every single one, the siren had chosen to be a sexy chick. And it always wanted the victim to kill off his lover. The one exception had been when it wanted that kid to kill his mother, but even then it posed as that kid’s perfect woman. Dean was the one time it had posed as a guy.
So, what then? Was Sam Dean’s perfect woman? Or was Dean just gay? Or was it both?
Dean tried not to think about it, but how could he not? Nick, or who he thought Nick had been, anyway, was everything he always hoped Sam would be. He liked the same music, he appreciated Dean’s car, and Dean had been smarter than him. Hell, he even looked younger than Dean. He was prettier. And shorter! And he let Dean take the lead. All of that would have been nothing had Dean not felt a connection, but man, he really wanted to hang out with Nick, too. Dean knew it was the siren’s powers, but it bothered him that he even vaguely entertained the idea of trusting anyone more than Sam. Then again, that first husband had said that he loved his wife more than anything, but the siren was perfect…
Dean ran his hand over his face. He had to stop comparing Sam to wives.
The motel door opened quietly. Dean turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the darkness. Sam shot upright, caught.
Dean put on his best fuck you smile and narrowed his eyes. “So, what’s new, Sammy? Wait, let me guess. Learn how to torture humans before sending the demons back to the pit? Or did you just let her fuck you again?”
Sam looked hurt for a moment, then smirked cruelly and replied, “Well, you’d know all about torturing people, wouldn’t you, Dean?”
Dean’s face paled, then instantly hardened. Sam threw down a cup of coffee, letting the hot brown liquid spill over the wooden floor.
“I was hungry. Thought you might want something.” Sam clenched his fist and turned around, letting a bagel fall through his fingers.
“Sam, I… Thanks. No, I mean, I’m sorry. I mean, your bagel.” Dean stammered, not even knowing what he was trying to say.
Sam opened the door. “I lost my appetite.” He walked through it and shut it behind him with a resolute thud.
Fuck.
Dean didn’t stop to think, he just grabbed his jacket and keys, and ran outside in his boxers to follow Sam.
It was cold. Too fucking cold to be doing this bullshit, but Dean didn’t care. He threw his leather jacket on over his naked chest and tossed his head from side to side, looking for Sam. After a minute, Dean saw Sam walking hurriedly away from the motel in the direction of the twenty-four hour quick-e mart where he must have gotten the food from. Dean hopped in the Impala and reversed quickly, running over an empty soda can in the process. He spared a moment to hope his tires were alright as he drove up to Sam.
Dean rolled down the window so he could call out to Sam, who was walking on the opposite side of the road.
“Sammy, come on,” Dean shouted across the street. “I didn’t mean it, okay? I’m sorry, get in the car.”
Sam laughed, and shook his head violently. “I’m sorry, get in the car? No, Dean. I won’t get in the car.” He continued to walk away from the motel, picking up speed as he went.
A car passed them, and Dean waited for the noise to stop before he tried again. “Sammy, if this is about you being with Ruby, it’s okay, we can talk-”
“Honestly, Dean, who the fuck do you think you are?” Sam shouted, nostrils flaring. “Who even says I was with Ruby?”
“I just thought-”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should stop. You’re not very good at it.”
Another car passed, and again Dean waited. He took a few seconds to really come up with something good. “Hey,” Dean offered, the picture of understanding, “look, I get it. I pissed you off. You want to punch me. I don’t blame you. But please, get in the car. It’s cold, and I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
“Then maybe you should go back.”
“Alright, enough of this fucking bullshit.”
Dean swerved the car into the other side of the road, pulling right up to Sam.
“Dean, what the fuck? You’re gonna get yourself killed!” Sam’s eyes were wide, staring at Dean driving in the wrong lane.
“Well then you better get in, and make it snappy before a car comes.” Dean was looking directly at Sam, and not at the road.
“Watch the road!”
“Get in the car.”
Dean heard a car honking, and turned his head so that instead of looking at Sam out the side window, he was looking at an oncoming SUV out the front window. The SUV swerved around the Impala, giving Dean the finger as he passed.
“Real nice!” Dean shouted back to the other driver. He turned back to look at Sam. “Come on, who knows if the next guy’ll swerve in time? I might get run over by a van, you never know.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest. “No.”
Dean ‘s face twisted in a mask of fury. “Fuck it.” He slammed his foot on the gas and started driving directly towards the next oncoming car. He saw Sam waving his arms in the rearview. The oncoming car apparently didn’t like to play chicken, because it swerved out of the way in plenty of time, the driver shouting mutely at Dean as they passed. Dean swung the Impala around and went back to Sam, who immediately jumped in the passenger side.
“Are you insane? You could have gotten yourself killed!” Sam fumed, staring at Dean. Then his face switched from anger to confusion, and he asked, “What are you wearing?”
Dean looked down. He forgot that he was just in his boxers and jacket. “Well, what the hell do you expect, Sam? You run out like a jealous girlfriend and I’m supposed to get dressed before I go after you? I just grabbed my jacket and followed you, man.” He attempted to make it sound more manly than he felt, but Sam didn’t look convinced.
“Whatever,” Sam replied, waving his hand away in the air. His tone became angry again, and he almost shouted, “Are you trying to die, or what? Is this just to prove some macho point? That you can be run over by oncoming traffic and survive? What the fuck, Dean?”
Dean ignored him and headed back for the motel. Once the Impala was safely parked in the parking lot, and the key was out of the ignition, Dean turned to face Sam. Sam promptly smacked him across the face.
The metallic taste told Dean that Sam had drawn blood, but he couldn’t help smiling. It was such a girly move. He held his hand up to his mouth and waited for the rant to begin. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Dammit, Dean. Dammit! Why do you have to do stupid shit like this?” Sam pounded his fist against Dean’s jacket. “You could have been killed!”
“Stop hitting me, Sam. I was fine.” Dean looked sideways to avoid meeting Sam’s eyes.
Sam laughed, once, short. “No, you weren’t. Just because you’re in denial over your own morality doesn’t mean you can’t die. It just means you’re stupid.” Sam hit Dean again against his chest, letting his hand lay there. “What would I have done without you?” He wrapped his fingers around the leather jacket, clutching it, and Dean could feel the backs of Sam’s fingers ghosting over his chest. “I couldn’t survive it again, Dean, I just couldn’t.”
Dean looked down at Sam. His head was bent, facing Dean’s chest, his breathing was speeding up, and Dean swore he saw Sam’s cheeks turn red.
“Hey, hey, Sammy. I’m alright. Look at me, completely fine. Nothing to worry about, really.” Dean put his hand against the side of Sam’s face and lifted it up so that their eyes met. “I’m right here.” Dean paused, then added, “You wanna go inside? It’s fucking cold.”
Sam nodded, straightened up, got out of the car, and walked into the motel. Dean followed, knowing the conversation wasn’t over yet.
Once they got inside, Dean locked the door behind him, and put his jacket and keys back where they belonged. He turned to face Sam, who was standing up, looking over Dean thoughtfully.
“What? Something in my teeth?” Dean joked. Anything to change the topic.
Sam shook his head. “Dean, we need to talk.”
Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Dean was so screwed. He wasn’t sure why, there were too many options, but he was sure this wouldn’t be good.
Sam met Dean’s eyes. “About Ruby…”
Dean heaved a sigh of relief. He hated the thought of them together, and he didn’t want Sam using his demon powers, but if the subject was Ruby then Dean could ignore the siren for another day.
After a moment, Sam stated firmly, “I wasn’t with her tonight.” Dean felt his face brighten, and noticed Sam pretending not to notice when it did. “It was only the one time,” Sam continued to explain, “and even that was a mistake. I just wanted to feel… loved again. You were gone, and I… I had no one else.”
Dean would not read into that comment, he promised himself that he wouldn’t.
Sam took a step closer to Dean, now only three feet away. “And as far as my powers, I want you to know that I plan to continue training with her. I need to get stronger so I can kill Lilith.”
Dean threw his hands into the air and turned around. “Sammy, we’ve talked about this! Castiel-”
“Yes,” Sam hastily replied, reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder and spin him around. “Yes, I know what Castiel said. But I have to do what I can, Dean, and this is it. Besides, it’s not like Castiel is our friend. He wouldn’t even shake my hand when I offered it to him! He can barely stand the sight of me! I don’t know what his interest in you is, but I want you to be careful. I just don’t trust the angels.”
Dean smacked Sam’s hand away. “Oh, so you’d rather throw your lot in with demons, huh? Have you forgotten what they did to mom? To dad? To freaking half the people you’ve slept with?”
Sam shouted, “No, I haven’t! But I have to kill Lilith, Dean, I have to! She killed you! I watched you die! And Ruby can help me kill her!” After a moment when Dean didn’t reply, because really, what could he say, Sam shot back. “And what’s with you talking as if the angels are so great? Have you forgotten what they did to Anna?”
Dean stiffened. “That was different.”
“Why, Dean? Why was it different?” Sam threw his hands out and shook his head, looking for an explanation. “Because it was angels, and they’re always right? Is that why?”
“No, you fucking moron! I told them to take her! They asked me, and I picked you over her! It’s my fault she’s dead!” Dean stopped short, shook his head to clear his thoughts, and ran a hand over his face. He sat down on the bed closest to the door, Sam’s bed, and took a moment to collect himself.
Sam sat down next to him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, Sammy, don’t apologize.” Dean closed his eyes and rested his head in the palms of his hands. “It’s not your fault it was a sucky deal. But I made my choice. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“I know you would, Dean. I know.” Sam paused for a minute before adding, “And that’s exactly why I want to be honest with you. About Ruby. I need you to know that I’m not sleeping with her. I didn’t even see her tonight to train, and that’s the truth. I just wanted a bagel.”
Dean snorted. “A bagel, huh?” He took a pause so that Sam would know he was telling the truth. “Okay, Sammy, I believe you.”
“Thanks.” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice without looking.
“So,” Dean segued, “is this newfound honesty just about Ruby, or about everything?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Everything. Do you really have to ask?”
Dean smirked. “Just checking.”
There was a long pause. Dean didn’t know why he didn’t see it coming. He just didn’t.
Sam’s eyes bored into Dean’s. “But I want this honesty to go both ways, Dean. So you need to tell me why the siren posed as the perfect little brother when it went after you.”
“Fuck,” Dean sighed, unable to stop it.
“You didn’t think I’d notice? Of course, I thought it was weird right away, but with everything else that was said that night, well, it just didn’t seem like the most important thing we had to deal with. But now, I’m thinking maybe it is.”
“Sammy… Fuck, Sam, look, it’s nothing. I have no idea why it did that.” Dean looked away. “Maybe because I’m a bachelor.” Dean grinned over at Sam.
“You’re lying,” Sam replied without a pause. “Don’t joke, it’s not funny.” Dean’s smile faded. Sam continued, “Do you seriously expect me to believe a siren posed as your perfect image of me by accident?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous, and we both know it. And every time since then, for over a week, you always leave when I start to bring it up. Were you just hoping I’d never catch on?” Dean thought it was a rhetorical question this time, and remained silent. Sam sighed, then asked, “So, what, am I, like, your perfect mate or something?”
Dean’s eyes flew open and he jumped off the bed. “No! God, Sam, that’s disgusting!”
Sam smirked and raised an eyebrow. He stood up, right next to Dean, towering over him. “Really? You think so? ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about it, Dean,” Sam lifted his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, pulled him in closer and whispered in his ear, “and I don’t think it would be so bad.”
Dean tried to push Sam away, but God, he was big. Dean knew Sam was tall, knew he was strong, but having the full effect of it right there was overwhelming. He tried to escape again, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away if Sam didn’t let him. Dean was strong, but apparently not strong enough to beat his little brother.
“What,” Dean mocked, “A week of thinking about it makes you an expert? Get the hell off me Sam, stop playing around.”
Sam kept his grip firm on Dean’s neck. He maneuvered his face so that it was an inch in front of Dean’s so he could see Sam was serious when he replied, “Longer than that, Dean.”
“Oh my God, ten days then. Let me go.” Dean wriggled again to no avail.
Sam laughed, “Try years, Dean.” He massaged the back of Dean’s neck with the hand that was holding it in place and rested his forehead against Dean’s. “Years.”
Dean’s back went rigid. Years? He felt the press of Sam’s hand on his neck and believed it.
Dean stammered out, “W- why didn’t you say anything?”
Sam raised one eyebrow and shrugged quickly, as if to ask how exactly Dean thought he would have broached that conversation topic.
Dean silently agreed.
There was a tense moment of silence, where Sam waited so close that Dean could hear his breath. Dean knew instinctively that this was it. It was either kiss him or back the fuck down. And when it came right down to it, Dean still had no clue what to do with any of it. Why had the siren chosen to replicate Sam? Why had Sam slept with Ruby to mourn Dean? Why hadn’t Sam said anything earlier? Why wasn’t Dean running for the hills?
It was the last question that held him in place. Did he want this or not? He had no clue. But he did know that it was wrong. That much he was sure of. Still, when he looked into Sam’s eyes, it felt right.
Sam smiled slightly, sadly. “No, huh?” He took too long to remove his hand, gently drawing it across Dean’s face. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one as he pulled his hand away and straightened up. “Guess I should have expected that.”
The tone of his voice was painful to listen to. The look in his eyes was worse. Dean hadn’t realized Sam loved him this much. He wanted to reach out and grab Sam’s hand, but that would give Sam the wrong impression, it would be the wrong thing to do…
He did it anyway.
Sam looked into Dean’s eyes, hopeful and questioning. Dean strained to smile and swallowed, gathering up his courage. Right now, he needed to let Sam down easy. He could fall apart later.
“Sam,” Dean started to explain, as gently and clearly as he could manage. “I’m sorry. It’s… It’s not that I don’t want to, but I just haven’t really thought about it. Well, except for the last week and that’s just ‘cause of the damn siren. I mean, maybe a thought occasionally pops into my head, but, you know, I just block it out. Because I'm me and you're you and it'll never happen that way. We’re brothers, Sam. I’m your big brother. God, I practically raised you myself. It just seems so…”
Sam put a finger up to Dean’s lips to quiet him. “Don’t say wrong,” Sam replied, voice struggling to remain composed, “because it’s not wrong. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I can accept that. Hell, Dean, I’ve lived like that for longer than you can imagine. But it’s not wrong. The way I feel about you, it just can’t be wrong.”
Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam withdrew his finger and turned around, walking quickly into the bathroom. Dean stood there and felt as if there was a hole the size of the Grand Canyon where Sam was just a moment ago. He heard Sam start the shower water, and decided to try to get some sleep.
When he walked over to his bed, he noticed his erection. He almost laughed. Of course Sam’s fingers on his neck would do this to him. Why had he expected anything different? It was kind of Sam not to say anything, though. Gentlemanly, even. Dean was only in his boxers, and Sam had to have noticed.
Dean mulled this over while getting into bed. He had expected something different because they were brothers, dammit, and Sam shouldn’t have this effect on him! But Sam not bringing it up showed that he really cared for Dean, and that he wasn’t just interested in sex. He could have used it to get in Dean’s pants but chose not to. If their situations had been reversed, Dean wasn’t sure that he would have been so noble.
Dean shoved his hand down his boxers and jacked off unceremoniously, quickly taking care of his hard-on. When he was finished, the sun began to shine through the window blinds, momentarily blinding Dean, and interrupting his thoughts. Dean got up to shut them, and went over to the bathroom door to let Sam know how early it was. He was just about to knock when he heard it.
Sam was trying not to cry, and more or less failing miserably. Dean could almost picture him, sitting on the floor with his arms around his knees and his head in his lap, rocking back and forth. That was always what Sam did when he was alone, and thought no one else could see. If the situation had been different, Dean would have barged in, demanding to know what was wrong and how to fix it. But Dean already knew what was wrong, and because he didn’t know how to fix it, he decided that, no matter how badly he wanted to make Sam feel better, right now it was best to leave Sam alone.
Dean laid back down in his bed and tried to go back to sleep. He wished the shower was louder so he didn’t have to listen to Sam trying not to break down. It sounded heartless, and Dean felt like a bastard for even thinking it, but he just didn’t want to think about how badly Sam wanted him. He wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship with Sam, and he didn’t know if he ever would be.
Tomorrow, he would pretend everything was okay. He would act like he had heard nothing, and Sam would go along with it, and neither one of them would ever mention it again. And if Dean started responding to every glance or touch that Sam gave him, well then he would pretend that wasn’t happening, either.
Dean would pretend that everything was alright, and Sam would pretend to go along with it. After a while, Dean hoped, he might even almost believe it was true.
fin.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Comments light up my world!
Author: siriuslyyellow
Rating: R
Warning(s): Emotional!Sam/ConfusedAndImpulsive!Dean, incest, cursing, semi-angst, pondering, mentions of Ruby, brief mentions of Castiel and Anna, brief mention of their parents and Sam’s love interests
Spoilers: Up to and including season 4 episode 14, “Sex and Violence”
Word Count: 3,960
Challenge: ladyrhyanne, darkness, denial, belief, "Because I'm me and you're you and it'll never happen that way."
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. Woe.
Beta Acknowledgement: kowaiyoukai, you rock so hard! *gives wincest and cookies*
Summary: The boys discuss their multitude of issues.
A/N: This fic is for the February ’09 round of wincest_fic. It takes place a little over a week after 4x14, and has to do with what happens in that episode and earlier. I’ve felt the need for a while to explain some of the recent canon events, and this challenge seemed perfect for it. I may write a sequel if it’s well-received, because I have more of this story floating around in my head, but you know, I had to get it in by the deadline so, alas, I couldn’t write any more on it. Anywho, I hope you like it, ladyrhyanne! *hearts* ^__^*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dean woke up in a start, sweat beaded across his forehead. Another dream about hell. He was going to need serious therapy if this shit kept up. He looked over, and Sam wasn’t in his bed. Of course. The white hands on the motel wall’s clock said it was four in the morning. Dean got up to go to the bathroom and wash his face off. He looked in the mirror, saw a flash of something bloody and violent he’d rather forget, and stumbled back to bed. He sat on the edge of it, taking the time alone to think. Because he needed to come up with a plausible story, and fast.
Ever since Bedford, which was currently one week, three days, and fifteen hours behind them, Dean had managed to finagle his way out of having a heart-to-heart with Sam. That had been one week, three days, and fifteen hours of coffee runs. One week, three days, and fifteen hours of bathroom breaks. One week, three days, and fifteen hours of blatant, obvious lies.
Dean was a horrible liar, at least to Sam, and they both knew it. He was wondering why Sam didn’t just come out and ask him, but his curiosity wasn’t enough to bring it up. After all, how exactly did a guy explain to his little brother why a siren chose to be a little brother to lure him instead of a prostitute? He didn’t. He shut the hell up about it and hoped it would go away.
Unfortunately for Dean, Sam was quite perceptive. And even if he wasn’t, well, it didn’t take all that much to connect the dots on this one. It was just a matter of time before Sam picked up on it and cornered him, demanding the truth.
But what was the truth? Dean hardly knew himself. His strong belief was that the siren chose to emulate Sam because he was the most important person in Dean’s life. The person who Dean loved the most, and the person who Dean would do anything for. It made total sense in a non-incestuous, completely heterosexual way. That’s what Dean kept telling himself, and that was the plausible story he was going to use if Sam ever got down to asking.
But then, he had to think back to the cases. In all of them, every single one, the siren had chosen to be a sexy chick. And it always wanted the victim to kill off his lover. The one exception had been when it wanted that kid to kill his mother, but even then it posed as that kid’s perfect woman. Dean was the one time it had posed as a guy.
So, what then? Was Sam Dean’s perfect woman? Or was Dean just gay? Or was it both?
Dean tried not to think about it, but how could he not? Nick, or who he thought Nick had been, anyway, was everything he always hoped Sam would be. He liked the same music, he appreciated Dean’s car, and Dean had been smarter than him. Hell, he even looked younger than Dean. He was prettier. And shorter! And he let Dean take the lead. All of that would have been nothing had Dean not felt a connection, but man, he really wanted to hang out with Nick, too. Dean knew it was the siren’s powers, but it bothered him that he even vaguely entertained the idea of trusting anyone more than Sam. Then again, that first husband had said that he loved his wife more than anything, but the siren was perfect…
Dean ran his hand over his face. He had to stop comparing Sam to wives.
The motel door opened quietly. Dean turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the darkness. Sam shot upright, caught.
Dean put on his best fuck you smile and narrowed his eyes. “So, what’s new, Sammy? Wait, let me guess. Learn how to torture humans before sending the demons back to the pit? Or did you just let her fuck you again?”
Sam looked hurt for a moment, then smirked cruelly and replied, “Well, you’d know all about torturing people, wouldn’t you, Dean?”
Dean’s face paled, then instantly hardened. Sam threw down a cup of coffee, letting the hot brown liquid spill over the wooden floor.
“I was hungry. Thought you might want something.” Sam clenched his fist and turned around, letting a bagel fall through his fingers.
“Sam, I… Thanks. No, I mean, I’m sorry. I mean, your bagel.” Dean stammered, not even knowing what he was trying to say.
Sam opened the door. “I lost my appetite.” He walked through it and shut it behind him with a resolute thud.
Fuck.
Dean didn’t stop to think, he just grabbed his jacket and keys, and ran outside in his boxers to follow Sam.
It was cold. Too fucking cold to be doing this bullshit, but Dean didn’t care. He threw his leather jacket on over his naked chest and tossed his head from side to side, looking for Sam. After a minute, Dean saw Sam walking hurriedly away from the motel in the direction of the twenty-four hour quick-e mart where he must have gotten the food from. Dean hopped in the Impala and reversed quickly, running over an empty soda can in the process. He spared a moment to hope his tires were alright as he drove up to Sam.
Dean rolled down the window so he could call out to Sam, who was walking on the opposite side of the road.
“Sammy, come on,” Dean shouted across the street. “I didn’t mean it, okay? I’m sorry, get in the car.”
Sam laughed, and shook his head violently. “I’m sorry, get in the car? No, Dean. I won’t get in the car.” He continued to walk away from the motel, picking up speed as he went.
A car passed them, and Dean waited for the noise to stop before he tried again. “Sammy, if this is about you being with Ruby, it’s okay, we can talk-”
“Honestly, Dean, who the fuck do you think you are?” Sam shouted, nostrils flaring. “Who even says I was with Ruby?”
“I just thought-”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should stop. You’re not very good at it.”
Another car passed, and again Dean waited. He took a few seconds to really come up with something good. “Hey,” Dean offered, the picture of understanding, “look, I get it. I pissed you off. You want to punch me. I don’t blame you. But please, get in the car. It’s cold, and I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
“Then maybe you should go back.”
“Alright, enough of this fucking bullshit.”
Dean swerved the car into the other side of the road, pulling right up to Sam.
“Dean, what the fuck? You’re gonna get yourself killed!” Sam’s eyes were wide, staring at Dean driving in the wrong lane.
“Well then you better get in, and make it snappy before a car comes.” Dean was looking directly at Sam, and not at the road.
“Watch the road!”
“Get in the car.”
Dean heard a car honking, and turned his head so that instead of looking at Sam out the side window, he was looking at an oncoming SUV out the front window. The SUV swerved around the Impala, giving Dean the finger as he passed.
“Real nice!” Dean shouted back to the other driver. He turned back to look at Sam. “Come on, who knows if the next guy’ll swerve in time? I might get run over by a van, you never know.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest. “No.”
Dean ‘s face twisted in a mask of fury. “Fuck it.” He slammed his foot on the gas and started driving directly towards the next oncoming car. He saw Sam waving his arms in the rearview. The oncoming car apparently didn’t like to play chicken, because it swerved out of the way in plenty of time, the driver shouting mutely at Dean as they passed. Dean swung the Impala around and went back to Sam, who immediately jumped in the passenger side.
“Are you insane? You could have gotten yourself killed!” Sam fumed, staring at Dean. Then his face switched from anger to confusion, and he asked, “What are you wearing?”
Dean looked down. He forgot that he was just in his boxers and jacket. “Well, what the hell do you expect, Sam? You run out like a jealous girlfriend and I’m supposed to get dressed before I go after you? I just grabbed my jacket and followed you, man.” He attempted to make it sound more manly than he felt, but Sam didn’t look convinced.
“Whatever,” Sam replied, waving his hand away in the air. His tone became angry again, and he almost shouted, “Are you trying to die, or what? Is this just to prove some macho point? That you can be run over by oncoming traffic and survive? What the fuck, Dean?”
Dean ignored him and headed back for the motel. Once the Impala was safely parked in the parking lot, and the key was out of the ignition, Dean turned to face Sam. Sam promptly smacked him across the face.
The metallic taste told Dean that Sam had drawn blood, but he couldn’t help smiling. It was such a girly move. He held his hand up to his mouth and waited for the rant to begin. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Dammit, Dean. Dammit! Why do you have to do stupid shit like this?” Sam pounded his fist against Dean’s jacket. “You could have been killed!”
“Stop hitting me, Sam. I was fine.” Dean looked sideways to avoid meeting Sam’s eyes.
Sam laughed, once, short. “No, you weren’t. Just because you’re in denial over your own morality doesn’t mean you can’t die. It just means you’re stupid.” Sam hit Dean again against his chest, letting his hand lay there. “What would I have done without you?” He wrapped his fingers around the leather jacket, clutching it, and Dean could feel the backs of Sam’s fingers ghosting over his chest. “I couldn’t survive it again, Dean, I just couldn’t.”
Dean looked down at Sam. His head was bent, facing Dean’s chest, his breathing was speeding up, and Dean swore he saw Sam’s cheeks turn red.
“Hey, hey, Sammy. I’m alright. Look at me, completely fine. Nothing to worry about, really.” Dean put his hand against the side of Sam’s face and lifted it up so that their eyes met. “I’m right here.” Dean paused, then added, “You wanna go inside? It’s fucking cold.”
Sam nodded, straightened up, got out of the car, and walked into the motel. Dean followed, knowing the conversation wasn’t over yet.
Once they got inside, Dean locked the door behind him, and put his jacket and keys back where they belonged. He turned to face Sam, who was standing up, looking over Dean thoughtfully.
“What? Something in my teeth?” Dean joked. Anything to change the topic.
Sam shook his head. “Dean, we need to talk.”
Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Dean was so screwed. He wasn’t sure why, there were too many options, but he was sure this wouldn’t be good.
Sam met Dean’s eyes. “About Ruby…”
Dean heaved a sigh of relief. He hated the thought of them together, and he didn’t want Sam using his demon powers, but if the subject was Ruby then Dean could ignore the siren for another day.
After a moment, Sam stated firmly, “I wasn’t with her tonight.” Dean felt his face brighten, and noticed Sam pretending not to notice when it did. “It was only the one time,” Sam continued to explain, “and even that was a mistake. I just wanted to feel… loved again. You were gone, and I… I had no one else.”
Dean would not read into that comment, he promised himself that he wouldn’t.
Sam took a step closer to Dean, now only three feet away. “And as far as my powers, I want you to know that I plan to continue training with her. I need to get stronger so I can kill Lilith.”
Dean threw his hands into the air and turned around. “Sammy, we’ve talked about this! Castiel-”
“Yes,” Sam hastily replied, reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder and spin him around. “Yes, I know what Castiel said. But I have to do what I can, Dean, and this is it. Besides, it’s not like Castiel is our friend. He wouldn’t even shake my hand when I offered it to him! He can barely stand the sight of me! I don’t know what his interest in you is, but I want you to be careful. I just don’t trust the angels.”
Dean smacked Sam’s hand away. “Oh, so you’d rather throw your lot in with demons, huh? Have you forgotten what they did to mom? To dad? To freaking half the people you’ve slept with?”
Sam shouted, “No, I haven’t! But I have to kill Lilith, Dean, I have to! She killed you! I watched you die! And Ruby can help me kill her!” After a moment when Dean didn’t reply, because really, what could he say, Sam shot back. “And what’s with you talking as if the angels are so great? Have you forgotten what they did to Anna?”
Dean stiffened. “That was different.”
“Why, Dean? Why was it different?” Sam threw his hands out and shook his head, looking for an explanation. “Because it was angels, and they’re always right? Is that why?”
“No, you fucking moron! I told them to take her! They asked me, and I picked you over her! It’s my fault she’s dead!” Dean stopped short, shook his head to clear his thoughts, and ran a hand over his face. He sat down on the bed closest to the door, Sam’s bed, and took a moment to collect himself.
Sam sat down next to him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, Sammy, don’t apologize.” Dean closed his eyes and rested his head in the palms of his hands. “It’s not your fault it was a sucky deal. But I made my choice. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“I know you would, Dean. I know.” Sam paused for a minute before adding, “And that’s exactly why I want to be honest with you. About Ruby. I need you to know that I’m not sleeping with her. I didn’t even see her tonight to train, and that’s the truth. I just wanted a bagel.”
Dean snorted. “A bagel, huh?” He took a pause so that Sam would know he was telling the truth. “Okay, Sammy, I believe you.”
“Thanks.” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice without looking.
“So,” Dean segued, “is this newfound honesty just about Ruby, or about everything?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Everything. Do you really have to ask?”
Dean smirked. “Just checking.”
There was a long pause. Dean didn’t know why he didn’t see it coming. He just didn’t.
Sam’s eyes bored into Dean’s. “But I want this honesty to go both ways, Dean. So you need to tell me why the siren posed as the perfect little brother when it went after you.”
“Fuck,” Dean sighed, unable to stop it.
“You didn’t think I’d notice? Of course, I thought it was weird right away, but with everything else that was said that night, well, it just didn’t seem like the most important thing we had to deal with. But now, I’m thinking maybe it is.”
“Sammy… Fuck, Sam, look, it’s nothing. I have no idea why it did that.” Dean looked away. “Maybe because I’m a bachelor.” Dean grinned over at Sam.
“You’re lying,” Sam replied without a pause. “Don’t joke, it’s not funny.” Dean’s smile faded. Sam continued, “Do you seriously expect me to believe a siren posed as your perfect image of me by accident?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous, and we both know it. And every time since then, for over a week, you always leave when I start to bring it up. Were you just hoping I’d never catch on?” Dean thought it was a rhetorical question this time, and remained silent. Sam sighed, then asked, “So, what, am I, like, your perfect mate or something?”
Dean’s eyes flew open and he jumped off the bed. “No! God, Sam, that’s disgusting!”
Sam smirked and raised an eyebrow. He stood up, right next to Dean, towering over him. “Really? You think so? ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about it, Dean,” Sam lifted his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, pulled him in closer and whispered in his ear, “and I don’t think it would be so bad.”
Dean tried to push Sam away, but God, he was big. Dean knew Sam was tall, knew he was strong, but having the full effect of it right there was overwhelming. He tried to escape again, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away if Sam didn’t let him. Dean was strong, but apparently not strong enough to beat his little brother.
“What,” Dean mocked, “A week of thinking about it makes you an expert? Get the hell off me Sam, stop playing around.”
Sam kept his grip firm on Dean’s neck. He maneuvered his face so that it was an inch in front of Dean’s so he could see Sam was serious when he replied, “Longer than that, Dean.”
“Oh my God, ten days then. Let me go.” Dean wriggled again to no avail.
Sam laughed, “Try years, Dean.” He massaged the back of Dean’s neck with the hand that was holding it in place and rested his forehead against Dean’s. “Years.”
Dean’s back went rigid. Years? He felt the press of Sam’s hand on his neck and believed it.
Dean stammered out, “W- why didn’t you say anything?”
Sam raised one eyebrow and shrugged quickly, as if to ask how exactly Dean thought he would have broached that conversation topic.
Dean silently agreed.
There was a tense moment of silence, where Sam waited so close that Dean could hear his breath. Dean knew instinctively that this was it. It was either kiss him or back the fuck down. And when it came right down to it, Dean still had no clue what to do with any of it. Why had the siren chosen to replicate Sam? Why had Sam slept with Ruby to mourn Dean? Why hadn’t Sam said anything earlier? Why wasn’t Dean running for the hills?
It was the last question that held him in place. Did he want this or not? He had no clue. But he did know that it was wrong. That much he was sure of. Still, when he looked into Sam’s eyes, it felt right.
Sam smiled slightly, sadly. “No, huh?” He took too long to remove his hand, gently drawing it across Dean’s face. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one as he pulled his hand away and straightened up. “Guess I should have expected that.”
The tone of his voice was painful to listen to. The look in his eyes was worse. Dean hadn’t realized Sam loved him this much. He wanted to reach out and grab Sam’s hand, but that would give Sam the wrong impression, it would be the wrong thing to do…
He did it anyway.
Sam looked into Dean’s eyes, hopeful and questioning. Dean strained to smile and swallowed, gathering up his courage. Right now, he needed to let Sam down easy. He could fall apart later.
“Sam,” Dean started to explain, as gently and clearly as he could manage. “I’m sorry. It’s… It’s not that I don’t want to, but I just haven’t really thought about it. Well, except for the last week and that’s just ‘cause of the damn siren. I mean, maybe a thought occasionally pops into my head, but, you know, I just block it out. Because I'm me and you're you and it'll never happen that way. We’re brothers, Sam. I’m your big brother. God, I practically raised you myself. It just seems so…”
Sam put a finger up to Dean’s lips to quiet him. “Don’t say wrong,” Sam replied, voice struggling to remain composed, “because it’s not wrong. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I can accept that. Hell, Dean, I’ve lived like that for longer than you can imagine. But it’s not wrong. The way I feel about you, it just can’t be wrong.”
Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam withdrew his finger and turned around, walking quickly into the bathroom. Dean stood there and felt as if there was a hole the size of the Grand Canyon where Sam was just a moment ago. He heard Sam start the shower water, and decided to try to get some sleep.
When he walked over to his bed, he noticed his erection. He almost laughed. Of course Sam’s fingers on his neck would do this to him. Why had he expected anything different? It was kind of Sam not to say anything, though. Gentlemanly, even. Dean was only in his boxers, and Sam had to have noticed.
Dean mulled this over while getting into bed. He had expected something different because they were brothers, dammit, and Sam shouldn’t have this effect on him! But Sam not bringing it up showed that he really cared for Dean, and that he wasn’t just interested in sex. He could have used it to get in Dean’s pants but chose not to. If their situations had been reversed, Dean wasn’t sure that he would have been so noble.
Dean shoved his hand down his boxers and jacked off unceremoniously, quickly taking care of his hard-on. When he was finished, the sun began to shine through the window blinds, momentarily blinding Dean, and interrupting his thoughts. Dean got up to shut them, and went over to the bathroom door to let Sam know how early it was. He was just about to knock when he heard it.
Sam was trying not to cry, and more or less failing miserably. Dean could almost picture him, sitting on the floor with his arms around his knees and his head in his lap, rocking back and forth. That was always what Sam did when he was alone, and thought no one else could see. If the situation had been different, Dean would have barged in, demanding to know what was wrong and how to fix it. But Dean already knew what was wrong, and because he didn’t know how to fix it, he decided that, no matter how badly he wanted to make Sam feel better, right now it was best to leave Sam alone.
Dean laid back down in his bed and tried to go back to sleep. He wished the shower was louder so he didn’t have to listen to Sam trying not to break down. It sounded heartless, and Dean felt like a bastard for even thinking it, but he just didn’t want to think about how badly Sam wanted him. He wasn’t ready for that kind of relationship with Sam, and he didn’t know if he ever would be.
Tomorrow, he would pretend everything was okay. He would act like he had heard nothing, and Sam would go along with it, and neither one of them would ever mention it again. And if Dean started responding to every glance or touch that Sam gave him, well then he would pretend that wasn’t happening, either.
Dean would pretend that everything was alright, and Sam would pretend to go along with it. After a while, Dean hoped, he might even almost believe it was true.
fin.
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