The Bathroom Hook-Up
The Bathroom Hook-Up
Dean took a deep breath as he looked at the mirror above the bathroom sink. He still didn’t know why he’d agreed to go to the bar down the street to talk to the guys he worked with. Sure, they were fun, but he and Sam had just had a hell of a weekend hunt, they were both beat all to hell and all Dean really wanted was to go home, lick his wounds, and fall into his nice soft mattress with dreams of Sam in his head.
He’d been all for it until Gary stopped him and asked if he wanted to come out. He couldn’t say no though. He’d been so caught up in everything else that he’d neglected his co-workers. They weren’t bad guys, just guys who didn’t know what was out there, and there was nothing wrong with hanging and getting a light beer or two.
At least until he got to the car and Sam texted him, asking him to come over. He’d explained the invitation and gone out, knowing just from the tone of Sam’s responding text that he was pissed. Which just pissed Dean off because he didn’t owe Sam anything. It’d been nine months since they’d started this thing up, nine months of hunting and sneaking around to have sex. Two months of what Dean would consider real intimacy and everything was great, except Sam was apparently a jealous bitch who couldn’t let Dean out of his sight for a minute.
The bathroom door opened behind him and he didn’t look to see who it was. He heard the door lock and the oppressive anger filled the room, telling Dean exactly who it was.
“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” Dean asked.
Sam pressed up against him and damn it was doing things to Dean’s libido. “Just came out for a beer. Decided to see how the other half lives,” he said softly, “see what sort of a place Sales Managers go for drinks. You should have just told me they were inviting the others too.”
Dean’s eyes went wide as he looked back at Sam. “Seriously? This is about Nancy being here?”
“Nancy, the girl they’ve all got pegged as the first Mrs. Smith? The girl who can’t keep her hands off you? The girl you were buying drinks for and pressing up against all night in that booth?”
“Fuck you, Sam. You got a problem with me hanging out with my friends, then just say it. Don’t know what the hell makes you think you got a right to this.” Dean growled. “You don’t fucking own me.”
“Don’t I?”
Dean turned and pushed back against Sam, knocking him back a few steps. His eyes grew wide in surprise and Dean could see the confusion rising in him. “No, you don’t. I fucking do what you ask, Sam, because I want it like that, but I don’t want this bullshit. You don’t get to walk in and stalk me like I don’t have my own life.”
Sam’s anger was gone, replaced with something Dean didn’t know how to place. He was moving forward though, one hand on Dean’s hip, one hand cupping the back of his head, kissing him with all pent up jealousy he had.
Even in this Sam was a contradiction. His kiss was hard and brutal but as he gave himself over to the jealousy, his tongue was moving to sooth the harshness, tangling with Dean’s own, tentative and needy.
They didn’t talk about others, didn’t make declarations of feelings and what this all meant, but Dean could feel it here, this need from Sam to know that Dean was with him and only him.
Dean’s hands pulled Sam closer, opening under him to deepen the kiss further. Sam groaned into his mouth and then he was gone, dropping to the ground in front of Dean before he could even process it. Sam had his pants open and his cock out, his lips wrapped around it and Dean still didn’t know what Sam needed. God, he needed this though, needed to feel Sam around him, to know how good he could make it, how good things could be between them.
Sam wasn’t messing around either, taking Dean long and deep and working his hand back to cup his balls before sliding a spit slicked finger inside him. He was so damn desperate it was all he needed and he was coming down Sam’s throat without a warning.
Sam milked him through it, then reached up and pulled his pants back together leaving Dean to tuck his shirt back in as Sam got up and washed his hands.
He watched the tension in his lover’s back and knew Sam was waiting for something. Something bad. Dean let out a deep breath and pushed himself up against Sam’s back, looking to one side of the mirror and catching Sam’s eyes.
“Wanna meet me at my place in 45 minutes?”
Sam’s eyes searched his for a minute and then he gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah.”
Dean nodded, pulling away, but then Sam grabbed his hand, making him look up. “Dean, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” Dean said with a shrug. “Thought you knew by now that I’d rather spent time with you than any of them.”
“Yeah?” Sam’s smile was shy and brilliant for all the uncertainty.
“Yeah. Let me just get my tab and I’ll meet you there.”
Sam nodded and slipped out the door before Dean could say anything else. When he got to the bar and asked for the bill, Gary and the others gave him a hard time about the early night until Gary noticed the way Dean kept looking at the bathroom door.
“Holy hell, you pick someone up on the way to the bathroom?”
The teasing and mockery went on for a minute but Dean just smiled. “You have no idea.”
His evening was looking up after that. He got home to find Sam waiting at the door with Chinese food. They ate, laughing at stupid reality shows, and spent a couple hours in bed having hot make-up sex with Sam.
Best damn bathroom hook-up he’d ever had.
On to A Hero