Gift for trinipedia
Title: A (Not So) Different World
Pairing:Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Word count: 1700
Summary: College is surprisingly not so different from the rest of Sam's life, especially when the important part follows him there and there's something oddly familiar about his roommate… once he finds the right one.
Warnings: Just the incest.
Notes: So sorry this is late, but I hope you've had a great holiday season all the same.
His first few weeks in college, Sam gains and loses two roommates.
The first one isn't really his fault. Dave is nervous, kind of quiet. Okay, he's a little odd: a Math student with a habit of holding long conversations with (Sam hopes, anyway) the bathroom mirror. When the mirror tells him to shave all his hair off and meditate naked on his bed for hours at a time, Sam takes to staying really late at the library.
There's no escape though, and when Dave moves the sideshow on to the student lounge, he's hastily sent to a doctor. That's the last Sam ever sees of him, and although he packs up a box with his stuff in it he doesn't even get to meet his family when they collect it.
The second one, Jesse, seems okay, but Sam's observational skills are a little better honed than your average new student, so he notices… things. A drawer not properly shut here, a key turned there. A bag containing things that nobody was supposed to find, moved just a little, and Sam was only going to keep the gun for a few weeks in any case, just for security. Just until he settled in.
He's never been anywhere without access to weapons, and he doesn't know how to start now.
"Yes, I know how to use it," he says, his hand on the bag. He holds Jesse's gaze until the guy looks away.
When he wakes the next morning, Jesse is gone. Some student advisor woman patiently explains to Sam that there's always a percentage in the first few weeks of college who just can't hack it.
Sam assures her he gets it, and quietly disposes of the gun the following week.
"Maybe we should move you to a single," another advisor says when he enquires about a new roommate. "They're smaller, but if you are having problems…" The way he peers down his glasses at Sam makes it clear he thinks he knows where the problem lies.
He persuades them to give him one more chance at sharing though, and the third one, Evan, doesn't seem nosy, or insane, or easily intimidated. He's kind of a good laugh, and although Sam's there to work Evan manages to get him down to the nearest campus bar the first Saturday night.
The next morning, hungover and bleary-eyed, Sam wakes up in the dim room that smells of testosterone and socks. The shower's going when he ambles into the bathroom for a pee with a mumbled "Hey, Dean," and when Evan peers around the curtain his heart almost stops in his chest.
* * *
"He dump your skinny ass too?" Dean says next time he calls home, and he's finding this way too funny.
"Shut up, Dean."
"No, really. I'm flattered that you miss me so much."
Sam sighs. "It was just habit.”
“You miss me!” Dean crows delightedly. Sam switches his phone off for two days to shut him up, so when there’s some idiot leaning on the doorbell at 7am come the following Saturday morning, it doesn’t take a genius to work out who it is.
"I hate you," Sam says, and doesn't bother to hold the door open. Dean will come in anyway, via the window, the fire escape or fuck knows; he'll probably drive into the wall if all else fails. Either way, Sam's study plans are probably screwed for the weekend unless Dean is on his way to a hunt.
"You love me, Sammy." It's like old times; Dean has even brought breakfast. Greasy, disgusting breakfast, but Sam knows for a fact there's only a moldy lettuce and three day old pizza leftovers in the kitchen.
"Do I smell burgers?" A disheveled pile of blankets turns into a disheveled pile of roommate, and it turns out Evan has more in common with Dean than Sam could have guessed. "I'm starving."
"Evan, this is my brother." Sam waves between them. "Dean, my new roommate."
"Good thing I brought enough for three," Dean says, sliding one of the bags over, and the look in Evan's eyes is something akin to love. Yeah, Sam's going to get nothing useful done this weekend.
***
"You gotta come with us, dude," Dean says, not for the first time. "I haven't finished telling you-" He stops, frowns, and looks at Sam. "What was I telling him about, Sammy?"
"What, you think I was listening?" Sam gives Evan a pat on the shoulder and Dean a shove towards the door. "I've heard all your dumb stories before, Dean."
"Later," Evan promises, and laughs. He slings his arms around a pretty brunette's shoulders - Gail, Gaynor, something like that, she's in one of Sam's classes but he can never get her name right - and she giggles up at him. "I'll see you… later."
"In the morning if we're lucky," Sam says as they leave, and Dean snorts.
"I like him," Dean says as they walk home across the campus, and he still sounds like he's surprised. Maybe he didn't think he'd like anyone who came close to filling his role in Sam's life. Not that Evan is anywhere near that, but still.
"Dude, I noticed. I think you spent more time chatting him up than Gail." Sam's joking, but there's an element of truth to it. "Or Gaynor, whatever."
"Her name was Claire," Dean says, but he sounds annoyed. "And I wasn't chatting him up."
"No, no, it's fine." Sam fishes for his keys, and can't resist another dig when he pushes the door open. "If you want me to give you two some alone time, you only need to say."
They're barely in the door before Sam is turned around, shoved hard against the wall. Dean is leaning in, his eyes dark in the dim light from the hallway, and his face is far too close to Sam's. His body is far too close to Sam's-far too close for the way they are standing, too close for comfort.
"I didn't come here to see your roommate, Sam."
Sam, not Sammy. And this isn't fair, because-because-
Because Dean is too close, and this is one reason he left, one reason Sam had to leave. And Dean had agreed, but he still couldn't leave it alone, could he?
"You weren't supposed to come here at all."
A beat. "Need you, Sam."
Sam swallows. "It was one drunken kiss, Dean. And you know we can't-"
"It was a lot more than that, and you know it."
And Dean tastes of beer this time too, with an aftertaste of whisky, and they might as well be back in that motel room with the god-awful butterfly wallpaper and the mirrors on the ceiling, because Sam's not going to be able to help himself this time either.
"We can't keep doing this, Dean," Sam says when he pulls his lips away.
Dean just presses him further into the wall, and fuck, Sam can't pretend they don't both want this, not now.
"I'll stop as soon as you tell me to, then, how about that?"
Dean's fingers are on his belt buckle, his zipper, pushing his jeans down to his knees, then slipping into the waistband of his boxers, and still Sam isn't saying it. His breath hitches when Dean slides to his knees, and he sags back against the wall, but the words still don't pass his lips.
He manages a please when Dean teases with his tongue, a god, yes, god when he comes down Dean's throat and a do it when Dean's leaning over him, a moment of doubt in his eyes before he pushes his way into Sam, but he still doesn't tell him to stop.
***
It's probably telling that when Sam wakes up the next morning, legs tangled bare with Dean's and the remains of his sheets, more parts than he cares to think of sticky with come, and with Dean drooling all over his bare shoulder, he doesn't have a single regret until he hears the sound of a key in the door.
There's not a lot he can do by that point except hope that Evan doesn't tell the whole campus about his pervy incestuous roommate after he walks out in disgust. Sam can't deny it's a great story; Evan won't have to buy himself a beer for months with this one to share.
"Morning," Evan says, and Sam waits for the penny to drop, but Evan just sits down on his bed and kicks his shoes off like nothing is wrong. Like he hasn't just walked in on his roommate lying naked and well-fucked in bed with his brother. "That was a hell of a good night, right?"
"Um," Sam says. What the hell can he say to that? "I should probably-"
"Dude, do I smell bacon?" Dean's face is baffled and sleepy, his freckles standing out more than ever - or possibly Sam is just closer than usual - and his nose is practically twitching at the scent wafting around the room.
"Oh yeah." Evan reaches down and tosses over a couple of bags. "Figured it was my turn to get breakfast." Five minutes later he's asleep, and Sam's starting to think there isn't going to be any freaking out. Maybe college really is a whole different world, or maybe Evan is just that special.
"Probably thinks we're lying about the brothers thing," Dean says, munching on his double bacon cheeseburger breakfast. "I'd go with that if he asks."
That would be the sensible thing to do. "Maybe," Sam says, but part of him is sure that if Evan asks, he's going to tell the truth, even if it means he'll be looking for yet another roommate, or worse still, end up in a tiny room all by himself for the rest of the year. He didn't come to college to lie about who he is, not if he can help it.
Fortunately for Sam, Evan never asks.
Pairing:Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Word count: 1700
Summary: College is surprisingly not so different from the rest of Sam's life, especially when the important part follows him there and there's something oddly familiar about his roommate… once he finds the right one.
Warnings: Just the incest.
Notes: So sorry this is late, but I hope you've had a great holiday season all the same.
His first few weeks in college, Sam gains and loses two roommates.
The first one isn't really his fault. Dave is nervous, kind of quiet. Okay, he's a little odd: a Math student with a habit of holding long conversations with (Sam hopes, anyway) the bathroom mirror. When the mirror tells him to shave all his hair off and meditate naked on his bed for hours at a time, Sam takes to staying really late at the library.
There's no escape though, and when Dave moves the sideshow on to the student lounge, he's hastily sent to a doctor. That's the last Sam ever sees of him, and although he packs up a box with his stuff in it he doesn't even get to meet his family when they collect it.
The second one, Jesse, seems okay, but Sam's observational skills are a little better honed than your average new student, so he notices… things. A drawer not properly shut here, a key turned there. A bag containing things that nobody was supposed to find, moved just a little, and Sam was only going to keep the gun for a few weeks in any case, just for security. Just until he settled in.
He's never been anywhere without access to weapons, and he doesn't know how to start now.
"Yes, I know how to use it," he says, his hand on the bag. He holds Jesse's gaze until the guy looks away.
When he wakes the next morning, Jesse is gone. Some student advisor woman patiently explains to Sam that there's always a percentage in the first few weeks of college who just can't hack it.
Sam assures her he gets it, and quietly disposes of the gun the following week.
"Maybe we should move you to a single," another advisor says when he enquires about a new roommate. "They're smaller, but if you are having problems…" The way he peers down his glasses at Sam makes it clear he thinks he knows where the problem lies.
He persuades them to give him one more chance at sharing though, and the third one, Evan, doesn't seem nosy, or insane, or easily intimidated. He's kind of a good laugh, and although Sam's there to work Evan manages to get him down to the nearest campus bar the first Saturday night.
The next morning, hungover and bleary-eyed, Sam wakes up in the dim room that smells of testosterone and socks. The shower's going when he ambles into the bathroom for a pee with a mumbled "Hey, Dean," and when Evan peers around the curtain his heart almost stops in his chest.
* * *
"He dump your skinny ass too?" Dean says next time he calls home, and he's finding this way too funny.
"Shut up, Dean."
"No, really. I'm flattered that you miss me so much."
Sam sighs. "It was just habit.”
“You miss me!” Dean crows delightedly. Sam switches his phone off for two days to shut him up, so when there’s some idiot leaning on the doorbell at 7am come the following Saturday morning, it doesn’t take a genius to work out who it is.
"I hate you," Sam says, and doesn't bother to hold the door open. Dean will come in anyway, via the window, the fire escape or fuck knows; he'll probably drive into the wall if all else fails. Either way, Sam's study plans are probably screwed for the weekend unless Dean is on his way to a hunt.
"You love me, Sammy." It's like old times; Dean has even brought breakfast. Greasy, disgusting breakfast, but Sam knows for a fact there's only a moldy lettuce and three day old pizza leftovers in the kitchen.
"Do I smell burgers?" A disheveled pile of blankets turns into a disheveled pile of roommate, and it turns out Evan has more in common with Dean than Sam could have guessed. "I'm starving."
"Evan, this is my brother." Sam waves between them. "Dean, my new roommate."
"Good thing I brought enough for three," Dean says, sliding one of the bags over, and the look in Evan's eyes is something akin to love. Yeah, Sam's going to get nothing useful done this weekend.
***
"You gotta come with us, dude," Dean says, not for the first time. "I haven't finished telling you-" He stops, frowns, and looks at Sam. "What was I telling him about, Sammy?"
"What, you think I was listening?" Sam gives Evan a pat on the shoulder and Dean a shove towards the door. "I've heard all your dumb stories before, Dean."
"Later," Evan promises, and laughs. He slings his arms around a pretty brunette's shoulders - Gail, Gaynor, something like that, she's in one of Sam's classes but he can never get her name right - and she giggles up at him. "I'll see you… later."
"In the morning if we're lucky," Sam says as they leave, and Dean snorts.
"I like him," Dean says as they walk home across the campus, and he still sounds like he's surprised. Maybe he didn't think he'd like anyone who came close to filling his role in Sam's life. Not that Evan is anywhere near that, but still.
"Dude, I noticed. I think you spent more time chatting him up than Gail." Sam's joking, but there's an element of truth to it. "Or Gaynor, whatever."
"Her name was Claire," Dean says, but he sounds annoyed. "And I wasn't chatting him up."
"No, no, it's fine." Sam fishes for his keys, and can't resist another dig when he pushes the door open. "If you want me to give you two some alone time, you only need to say."
They're barely in the door before Sam is turned around, shoved hard against the wall. Dean is leaning in, his eyes dark in the dim light from the hallway, and his face is far too close to Sam's. His body is far too close to Sam's-far too close for the way they are standing, too close for comfort.
"I didn't come here to see your roommate, Sam."
Sam, not Sammy. And this isn't fair, because-because-
Because Dean is too close, and this is one reason he left, one reason Sam had to leave. And Dean had agreed, but he still couldn't leave it alone, could he?
"You weren't supposed to come here at all."
A beat. "Need you, Sam."
Sam swallows. "It was one drunken kiss, Dean. And you know we can't-"
"It was a lot more than that, and you know it."
And Dean tastes of beer this time too, with an aftertaste of whisky, and they might as well be back in that motel room with the god-awful butterfly wallpaper and the mirrors on the ceiling, because Sam's not going to be able to help himself this time either.
"We can't keep doing this, Dean," Sam says when he pulls his lips away.
Dean just presses him further into the wall, and fuck, Sam can't pretend they don't both want this, not now.
"I'll stop as soon as you tell me to, then, how about that?"
Dean's fingers are on his belt buckle, his zipper, pushing his jeans down to his knees, then slipping into the waistband of his boxers, and still Sam isn't saying it. His breath hitches when Dean slides to his knees, and he sags back against the wall, but the words still don't pass his lips.
He manages a please when Dean teases with his tongue, a god, yes, god when he comes down Dean's throat and a do it when Dean's leaning over him, a moment of doubt in his eyes before he pushes his way into Sam, but he still doesn't tell him to stop.
***
It's probably telling that when Sam wakes up the next morning, legs tangled bare with Dean's and the remains of his sheets, more parts than he cares to think of sticky with come, and with Dean drooling all over his bare shoulder, he doesn't have a single regret until he hears the sound of a key in the door.
There's not a lot he can do by that point except hope that Evan doesn't tell the whole campus about his pervy incestuous roommate after he walks out in disgust. Sam can't deny it's a great story; Evan won't have to buy himself a beer for months with this one to share.
"Morning," Evan says, and Sam waits for the penny to drop, but Evan just sits down on his bed and kicks his shoes off like nothing is wrong. Like he hasn't just walked in on his roommate lying naked and well-fucked in bed with his brother. "That was a hell of a good night, right?"
"Um," Sam says. What the hell can he say to that? "I should probably-"
"Dude, do I smell bacon?" Dean's face is baffled and sleepy, his freckles standing out more than ever - or possibly Sam is just closer than usual - and his nose is practically twitching at the scent wafting around the room.
"Oh yeah." Evan reaches down and tosses over a couple of bags. "Figured it was my turn to get breakfast." Five minutes later he's asleep, and Sam's starting to think there isn't going to be any freaking out. Maybe college really is a whole different world, or maybe Evan is just that special.
"Probably thinks we're lying about the brothers thing," Dean says, munching on his double bacon cheeseburger breakfast. "I'd go with that if he asks."
That would be the sensible thing to do. "Maybe," Sam says, but part of him is sure that if Evan asks, he's going to tell the truth, even if it means he'll be looking for yet another roommate, or worse still, end up in a tiny room all by himself for the rest of the year. He didn't come to college to lie about who he is, not if he can help it.
Fortunately for Sam, Evan never asks.