Quadrabble: The Power of Sam Compels You. Sam/Dean. G
for nashmaveric. Icon by clouds_of_white Sam/Dean. 400 words.
The Power of Sam Compels You
She’s watching him again, all young hope and innocence. Boobs bursting out of her top, jeans slung so low on her hips it’s a miracle they stay on. Dean offers her an awkward smile and sips his beer, feeling Sam’s eyes burning the back of his neck from across the room. Briefly Dean wonders if Sam can do that now, brand guilt into his brother’s skin just by staring at him. It makes him shiver, the ‘If’ followed by ‘Why?’ and images of ‘What else?’
He tries his best to apologize - with the slope of his shoulders, a slight shift of his hips, moving further away from Jo’s heated gaze and cheerful chatter - but Sam clears his throat, wordlessly conveying it’s not enough. ‘Get rid of her!’ he commands, as clear as if he’s yelling it across the room. Dean wants to turn around, shoot his own glare of ‘I’m not doing anything, you jealous freak!’ but then Jo lays a hand on his arm, clutching it as if she’s entitled.
This time he can definitely feel it. A slight shift in the air, like a draft at the back of his neck. Even Jo looks around, a puzzled frown on her face. The Roadhouse offers many things but fresh air ain’t one of them. When she turns back, her smile changes from hopeful to sure and that’s when Dean realizes he’s neglected to pull away.
Crap.
“Dean,” Jo says, all warm happiness, and the temperature in the room instantly drops from drafty to downright freezing.
Double crap.
“Maybe we should…” she continues oblivious and Dean panics.
“I’m gay,” he blurts out and this time everything seems to freeze. Her hand on his arm, the shocked look in her eyes. The words she were about to say hover in the air like icicles.
“What?” she finally says, incredulous.
“Yeah. I’m…” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, flushed and seriously hating Sam. “Uhm… You know. Sorry.”
She lets abruptly go and slides off the stool, shooting him an angry glare before moving over to the other end of the bar where she starts wiping the counter with far more vigor than its rather clean surface calls for.
Dean quickly empties his beer. His reputation’s probably shot to shit but, judging by the grateful (if somewhat amused) heat now radiating from Sam, he’ll be compensated soon enough.
fin