Supernatural: At the Gate (To the Garden of Eden)
Title: At the Gate (To the Garden of Eden)
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean (not related), background Jess/(not demon!)Brady
Genre: Schmoop
Rating: R for Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 6,640
Author’s Note: Written for the BEAUTIFUL SHINING FLAME IN THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MY HEART WHO GUIDES ME HOME WHEN I AM STRANDED UPON A STORMY SEA, familiardevil. She asked for: “I DON'T KNOW IF YOU DO NON-BROTHER AUs TBH! BUT HERE I GO ANYWAY. I would love an AU where like, Jess and Dean are cousins or something (OR SOMETHING but not siblings because that's too much codependency up in that shit) and they can both be hunters or whatever but Jess goes to college and her roommate is Saaaam and Dean meets him and they get toooogether. I WANT SOME FUCKING SCHMOOP. AND COTTON CANDY. LITERAL COTTON CANDY. AND SEX.” IDK if you were kidding about the cotton candy, but you get it, anyway. Also, DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THAR WITH THE TITLE, FAMILIAR? I really hope that your birthday was spectacular, baby, I’m sorry this is a few days late <3333 Thank you to her wife, coyotesuspect, for being unfaithful to her with me often, and also for looking over this to make sure it looks okay, I guess. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this and the timestamp in epub format here.
Summary: Dean isn’t gay. Not even a little bit. At least, not until he visits his cousin, Jess, at Stanford and meets her roommate, Sam.
couldn't quite say who we still are.'>Jess is waiting outside the airport by the time Dean’s stepping out the door. She’s reclining against what he assumes was a graduation present last year, a bright red Mustang, and smiling as bright as the California sun beating down on him. She looks like she was born for this kind of weather. Dean, in contrast, is already itching to get into the air conditioning.
“Hello there, handsome stranger,” she says.
Dean scowls. He’s spent the last five years worrying that Jess is a little too pretty and much too friendly for her own good, and college only seems to have made the problem worse.
“Aww, look at you.” Jess steps away from the car. “You’re shaking like a wet kitten.”
“Don’t start with me,” Dean says, smiling and wrapping his arms around his cousin. “You know I hate flying.”
“It’s okay, baby, the big scary plane can’t hurt you now.”
“Bite me, bedwetter.”
Jess smacks Dean’s shoulder. “I was five years old, Dean!”
“My superman sheets will never forgive you, and neither will I.”
Jess laughs. “How was your flight?”
Dean glares in response.
“Fine, fine, point taken. Will lunch make it better? I’m paying.”
“Oh, okay. Now I remember why I got on a plane to come see you.”
“That’s my boy,” Jess replies, closing the car door behind her.
She takes Dean to a pizzeria about ten minutes from the airport and, in true Jess fashion, tells him what he’ll be having down to the rolls they share.
“So, which of your hot roommates will I be sharing a bed with this weekend?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows.
To his surprise, Jess perks up. “I was gonna have you on the couch, but if you really want to cuddle with Sam, I won’t stop you.”
“What’s this? Sam must be a real dog if you’re being that cool about it. You got all bitchy when I hooked up with…what was her name?”
Jess rolls her eyes. “Melissa. She was gross, Dean. I was doing you a favor.”
“She was cute.”
“Sam is cuter.”
“Okay, what’s the catch?”
“He has a dick,” Jess says casually as Dean takes a sip from his soda and nearly spits it out on her.
“I always forget what a lady you are,” Dean manages once he’s swallowed what’s left in his mouth. “How the hell did you manage to convince Aunt Charlotte to let you live with your boyfriend?”
“Mom understands the sacred relationship between a girl and her gay soul mate, that’s all.”
“Wait, what? You need to warn me of this shit before you trick me into agreeing to, what, a set up?”
“Not a set up! I just wanted to see my favorite cousin. And I happen to live with the man you’re going to marry.”
“For the thousandth time, Jessica, I am not gay.”
“Oh, but you are.”
“Oh, but I’m not.”
“Whatever, Dean. I can’t hear you through the thick, thick walls of that closet you live inside.”
“You didn’t tell him I’m interested, right? I’m not gonna get groped in my sleep?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, princess. Sam doesn’t exactly need to be creepy to get laid.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
“Well, duh, everyone is a little bit in love with Sam Winchester.”
Dean laughs. “What’s so great about this guy?”
Jess smiles enigmatically. “I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
Jess spends the rest of the meal telling Dean about her life since he last saw her over the summer, all the classes she’s taking and parties she’s going to. Dean then gets to do his best at avoiding questions and makes something up about what he’s doing with his life. By the time they’re back in the car and parked in front of Jess’s apartment, all Dean really wants to do is lay down some salt lines and go to bed. Or couch. Whatever.
“Honey, I’m home,” Jess shouts as soon as she’s got the door open. “And we have company.”
Something that vaguely resembles a mountain with hair walks out of the left bedroom. He’s got nothing but boxers on and, sure, he’s built like a statue, but Dean doesn’t see what Jess has been going on about all night, he’s just a kid with a tired expression and too much hair in his face.
“Hey, Jess.” The guy turns to look at Dean and smiles. His mouth is wide, but that didn’t prepare Dean for the way his face changes when he’s smiling. He’s got big, perfect teeth and dimples and Dean thinks, shit. He definitely gets it now. “Hey, you must be Dean.”
“Dean, this is Sam,” Jess says.
Sam reaches out a hand and Dean’s eyes dodge down at his long fingers for half a second before his tongue dodges out and licks at his lips. His brain doesn’t catch up for another moment, which is when he realizes he should probably shake the guy’s hand and stop staring.
“Hey. Yeah. Dean.”
“Well, welcome, I guess,” Sam says as he gives Dean a shake and lets go. “Sorry about, uh. I’ll be wearing clothes next time you see me, I promise.”
“Don’t do that to me, Sam. I have so little to live for,” Jess says, brushing past him and stopping to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“No more from you, young lady. You’ve got a physics test in the morning. Bedtime.”
Jess rolls her eyes and shoots Dean the same look she used to give him when her mom would find them trying to get away with sneaking extra dessert or when Mary wouldn’t buy them whatever toy they decided they needed while at the mall. Dean can’t hold in the laugh-it’s been years since anyone’s been able to out-mommy Jess.
Despite the patent Jessica Moore pout, she does as she’s told, wishes them both a goodnight and disappears into the bathroom. Dean drops his duffel on the couch and Sam slides past him into the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything, man? A beer, some water?”
Dean hesitates. “Don’t imagine you have some salt I could borrow?”
Sam’s head snaps up, and Dean can tell something’s bothering him, even though he’s got himself back under control in a few seconds. “What do you want salt for?”
Dean shrugs. “I just like salt.”
Sam’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head, but eventually he shrugs. “Top right corner, second shelf.”
Dean thanks him and Sam disappears into his room again. Dean waits until the door is shut to sprint for the cabinet Sam indicated, but he stops with one hand on the salt, when he gets a look at the door. There’s a thin ring of salt laid down already, arranged carefully so that it won’t be broken every time someone walks in. His eyes scan the room-sure enough, every window has a line of salt, too.
“Were you gonna use that for anything?”
Dean jumps, turns to find Sam leaning against the door to his room. Dean hadn’t even heard it open, and he’s generally pretty good about these things. The evidence is pretty clear cut.
“You’re a hunter,” Dean says, doesn’t ask.
“Was,” Sam answers shortly. “Was a hunter. Not anymore.”
“But…what?”
Sam laughs. “Yeah, I had a feeling about you,” he says. “Jess talks about you all the time, you know. You’re her favorite. Every story starts with, ‘My cousin, Dean,’ as if I don’t know who you are already.” Sam shakes his head and his hair finally leaves his eyes. He continues, “Or what you are.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Sam shrugs easily and walks across the living room, leaning against the kitchen counter once he reaches it. “Of course I do. We’re practically old buddies by now.”
Dean feels his jaw tighten. This is something he hates about meeting other hunters: they all seem to think common occupation makes you friends or something.
“I never heard of you in my life until I got off the plane today.”
Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it. “Nonetheless, I know all kinds of things about you. Things Jess doesn’t even know.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Like that the scar on your side was a werewolf, not a pit bull. And the time you burnt the haunted house down in high school wasn’t really an accident.” Sam grimaces. “I know things Jess wasn’t supposed to tell, too. Like how you made out with Jack Dermond after homecoming sophomore year and liked it.”
Dean blanches. “That bitch.”
“You can’t be upset, Dean. You should have known better than to tell her your secrets.”
Dean laughs despite himself. “It was a triple-dog-dare.”
Sam smiles just a little bit.
“How’d you figure all that other stuff out?”
Sam shrugs. “I’m smart.”
“And modest.”
Another one of those blinding smiles. “You were interesting. I paid attention to what she said about you, and I knew the signs from experience. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”
“How creeped out am I right now that you thought I was ‘interesting’?”
“You’re her family,” Sam says simply. His eyes dim a little, even as he tries to hold the smile in place. “I just didn’t realize what that was like. It sounded kind of nice.”
“You don’t have a family?” Dean asks.
Sam shakes his head. “Not that I ever met, at least. Just me and my dad on the road, hunting shit. It was. Well, it fucking sucked.”
“What about your mom?”
Sam frowns. “She died when I was a baby. There was a fire in my nursery. Some…thing. Dad thinks it was a demon, but we don’t know for sure.”
“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s fine. Anyway, he raised me on the road so he could try and find the thing. Getting it back was pretty much all he cared about.”
“He must have really loved her.”
“Sometimes it felt like it was more about revenge than anything.” Sam breaks out of the moment. “Wow, I’m sorry. It’s, uh, not therapy time. We just didn’t really get along.”
“Hence why you’re not a hunter anymore?”
“Among other things. I mean, living with your lovely cousin and going to a great school beats the shit out of hunting, am I right?”
“Hell no,” Dean says. “Hunting’s the best.”
“Wow. Hello, Stockholm Syndrome.”
“No, seriously. You get to shoot shit and save lives. What’s better than that?”
“Living to see thirty?”
“Overrated,” Dean says with a laugh.
Sam tilts his head. “Do you mind me asking how you…?”
“My mom’s family was big in hunting. She didn’t want to raise me one, but she told me about it once I was old enough to make a choice. Haven’t looked back since.”
“You were 15?”
“Going on 16. And I still find it really unnerving that you know my life story.”
“Sorry. I’m a good listener.” He averts his gaze then and Dean knows there’s more to it than that.
“She really talk about me that often? I mean, we got along as kids, but it’s not like we lived together.”
Sam turns around and walks to his room then, pauses at the door. “Good night, Dean. It was nice meeting you finally.”
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up the next day to an empty apartment and a note from Jess telling him breakfast is in the fridge-if his lazy ass will make it. Dean decides to forego the trouble of scrambling his own eggs and brewing his own coffee and sets off to troll campus for the nearest Starbucks, McDonald’s, or whatever will get him caffeinated.
He returns to the apartment 45 minutes later without any success and finds Sam on the couch watching TV, wearing a shirt this time as promised.
“Hey man,” Sam says, half turning his head in acknowledgement. It’s weird, seeing him acting the role of a college kid so effortlessly when Dean had talked to him last night in hunter mode.
“Hey. Do I smell coffee?”
“Mmmhmm. Help yourself.”
Sam would have had to fight to come between Dean and the coffee at this point, but Dean doesn’t say anything to that effect, just gets down a mug and starts filling it. He takes it over to the couch and sits next to Sam. The blanket he’d slept on the night before is folded carefully and resting on top of his pillow and Dean can’t help rolling his eyes.
“A little anal retentive?”
Sam looks over for only a second before he’s glued back on the television. “Jess makes fun of it, too.”
“So why do you do it?”
Sam shrugs. “Old habits.” He seems to make up his mind about something, powering off the set and turning to Dean. “Look, do you and Jess have plans tonight?”
“Uh, alright, whatever she told you about me liking dick-”
Sam laughs. “Jess was right, you do think highly of yourself.”
Dean shifts awkwardly. “So you weren’t about to ask me out tonight?”
“I was about to ask both of you out tonight,” Sam says smirking.
“Ah.”
“It’s alright, don’t feel too put out. I would definitely be hitting on you if Jess hadn’t already informed me that you’re straight.”
“Thanks?”
Sam pats Dean on the thigh and gets up. “So you guys have plans or what?”
“We, um. I don’t know. I was going to sit around watching TV and drinking beer until she told me to move and pointed in a direction.”
Sam raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, bite me. Why do you want to know?”
“There’s…okay, I know how lame this is going to sound, but stay with me here. There’s a little carnival thing in town this weekend and I thought it might be fun if we…students are half price on Thursdays.”
Dean laughs and Sam pulls a face.
“Alright, it was a stupid idea. Forget I brought it up,” he says sourly.
“No, no. It sounds fun. Hotdogs and bumper cars and all that shit. Think we can get Jess on board?”
Sam’s eyes brighten and his mouth quirks. “Leave her to me.”
_______________________________________________________________
“What the fuck is a Brady?” Dean asks bitterly.
Sam laughs, his eyes fixed on Jess walking a few paces ahead of them, arm-in-arm with some preppy blond dude. “Brady is his name, Dean. And he is her boyfriend.”
“She never mentioned any boyfriend to me.”
Sam’s lips turn down. “They had a rough patch a few months ago.”
Dean’s fingers curl into fists. “Was he treating her badly?”
Sam grabs Dean’s hand and smoothes his fingers out with urgency. Dean kind of regrets it when he lets go.
“Kind of? He was, but not really.” Sam’s eyes dart ahead again and his voice gets lower. “He was possessed by a demon. A really nasty one, too, but I figured it out and…we agreed not to tell her. I figure you would have told her about that stuff if you wanted her to know and…he really cares about her, Dean. You don’t know how sorry he was.”
Dean grunts in reply.
“I didn’t think she would invite him, I swear.”
Dean looks over and smiles. “Well, kid, like it or not, you got me to yourself all night.”
“Not until after we pass the fun house.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a fun house up ahead. Jess is going to stop in front of it and mock me. She does it every year, even if she’s with a guy.”
“Why would she make fun of you over a-?”
“Hey, Sam,” Jess cries out. “Do you want a picture with Bozo the Clown?”
She’s standing in front of the aforementioned fun house, pointing to a clown painted onto the side.
“Fuck off,” Sam replies, sticking out his tongue.
“Oh no! I forgot. I won’t let him hurt you, Sam.”
“I hate you,” Sam says. He turns to face Dean and sees the questioning look Dean’s aiming at him. “I don’t like clowns, okay? They’re fucking creepy.”
Jess cracks up then. Brady smiles and gives her a good natured push.
“Give him a break,” Dean says. He winks at Sam and then adds, “bedwetter.”
Jess goes bright red and her eyes widen. She turns to Brady. “I was five.”
“I’m sure you were,” Brady says, putting his arm around her shoulder and ushering her forward. He turns back and gives Dean a sly smile, so Dean decides he’s not so bad after all.
“My hero!” Sam exclaims, throwing his hands into the air and batting his eyes.
Dean shoves Sam in the side. “So what do we do now?”
“Come on, man, that’s obvious.” Sam points to the shooting game about ten paces to their left and gives Dean a cocky smile. “We gotta test who the better shot is.”
“No crying when I beat you, alright?”
“I don’t know, Dean, I’m pretty good.”
“Out of practice.”
“We’ll see.”
The contest is moot in the end, because neither Sam nor Dean misses a shot. The man working at the booth makes an annoyed face as he orders them to let him know which of the prizes they want.
“Want me to get the clown and give it to you?” Dean asks.
Sam pouts. “I thought you were on my side,” he says, pointing to the wolf he wants. The guy grabs it down and the clown topples on to him. Dean decides that’s a sign and takes it.
“Here,” Sam says, shoving the wolf into Dean’s hands after Dean refuses to move until Sam accepts his clown. “A toy for you to amuse yourself with, you child.”
“Awesome,” Dean says as he takes it, just to throw Sam off. “Bumper cars now?”
“Oh my god, I got tricked into babysitting. Man, that sucks, I’m not even getting paid.”
“Watch it, bitch, I’m older than you.”
“Don’t call me a bitch, jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Sam sighs and speeds up, leaving Dean to trail him to the bumper cars.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam and Dean end up walking shoulder-to-shoulder on the pier, waiting for a call from Jess that she’s ready to go home. They’ve ridden all of the roller coasters that the fair has to offer, ended up tied on game booths (Sam is better at balloon darts and basketball, Dean beats him at baseball pitching and the lily pad toss, and they play literally every game that even resembles shooting a gun in the damn place but neither of them ever misses), and had hot dogs about an hour in. Dean is now watching Sam eat cotton candy and feeling a little bit like he ended up on a date after all. He doesn’t mind it quite as much as he probably should.
“I still won, you know,” Dean insists. “I’m a better hunter than you.”
“Pie eating is not a marketable skill, Dean.”
“Well neither is guessing the amount of jelly beans in a jar, but you made me count that one.”
“That’s about perception!”
“Yeah, well, what if you’re on a hunt and you’re really fucking hungry and you have to eat before something sneaks up and eats you?”
“You didn’t win.”
“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Sammy.”
Sam bites his lip and then shrugs his shoulders. “Wanna go on the ferry?”
“Was that a pick up line? Because that was pretty suave.”
Sam throws his head back on the laugh and points to the end of the pier. “Fifteen minute ferry ride, Dean. It’s free with admission, and we have nothing better to do.”
“What the hell is the point of going on a boat ride in the middle of a carnival?”
Sam looks down, almost like he’s blushing. “You can see the stars better.”
Dean doesn’t know what the hell comes over him, but he grabs on to Sam’s jacket and tugs him forward onto the dock.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam reclines against the railing, his head thrown back as he looks up at the sky. Dean can’t focus on the stars, can’t really see anything except the exposed skin of Sam’s throat. He swallows uncomfortably and Sam shakes himself out of the moment, looks down at Dean like he’d forgotten where he was.
“They’re nice, huh?”
“Stargazing, really?”
Sam laughs, pulling a piece of pink cotton candy and shoving it into his mouth.
“I have to have some gay hobbies, right? Or I’d be a pretty lousy fag.”
Dean catches the way Sam spits the word out. He thinks back on the few things Sam’s said about his dad in the last few days and frowns, but he doesn’t really know what to say.
For his part, Sam’s already over it, is lifting another piece of cotton candy-blue this time-to his mouth. Dean grabs his hand and steers it towards his own mouth instead. Sam lets him have it, but Dean doesn’t miss how fast he pulls his hand back.
“That’s torture,” Sam says, eyes fixed on Dean’s mouth. “You’re not nice.”
“What?”
Sam licks his lips. “Jess didn’t warn me about you, you know.”
“What’s there to warn for?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
Dean meets Sam’s eyes.
“Sorry, I know I’m making this really awkward for you. But. You’ve been touching me all night and now the cotton candy thing. It’s not cool.”
Dean wipes his hand over his mouth and figures fuck it. Sam’s still got spun sugar on his lips and they’re on a boat looking at stars of all things, there’s not a whole lot of point in pretending this isn’t kind of gay already.
“Ah, what the hell,” Dean says, shrugging. He leans forward and captures Sam’s lips and Sam opens his mouth in surprise. Dean grabs his face then and holds him hard and Sam is smiling as his tongue begins to respond.
Sam’s phone vibrates against Dean’s leg and they pull apart. The ferry is steering back for the dock; Dean knows Jess is texting to tell them where to meet her and the moment is over. He really, really doesn’t want it to be.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam closes the door behind him and then presses his body against it. Dean returns his stare, relaxing against the back of the couch.
“I leave in two days,” Dean says, because he knows what they’re both thinking.
“Yeah, I know.” Sam rubs the back of his neck.
“So this is…”
“Yeah.”
“She’s not coming home, is she?”
Sam shakes his head. “Brady’s got her until at least noon.”
“What’s your position on two night stands?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam takes a step towards him. “I could do worse.”
“I…I don’t do this with guys a lot.”
“I know. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t feel pressured.”
“Okay,” Sam says with a quick nod.
“Okay.”
Dean takes a step towards the door, until him and Sam are arm’s length away, but neither makes any indication that they’re going to move forward.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Dean informs Sam, bringing his fingers up to stroke the skin behind the other man’s ear.
“You do that,” Sam says, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “That would be fine wi-”
The walk to Sam’s room is backwards for Dean. They don’t stop kissing the entire time, don’t pause as their hands try to tear clothes away and their feet try to get them to bed and their mouths apparently try to forge into one unit.
They exchange blowjobs. Sam gets Dean off with an experienced mouth and a prodding finger in what Dean is pretty sure is record time. It takes longer for Dean-he’s only done this a few times and none of the guys has ever packed what Sam shoves down his throat-but Sam doesn’t complain. Dean probably likes sucking Sam off even more than having Sam suck him off, which is definitely new, and even though he’s never let anyone do it, he spends the whole time wanting Sam to stuff him full of cock, gets hard all over again and has to stroke himself off while Sam’s still in his mouth. Tomorrow, he decides, he’s gonna ask Sam to fuck him.
When Dean’s done spitting up what he can’t swallow-and doesn’t that just make him feel pathetic, because Sam seemed to have no problem handling his come-he decides to head straight for the living room from the bathroom, figures stopping to kiss Sam will look needy, even if it would feel really, really good.
Sam’s raised on his side, facing the bathroom, when Dean comes out. He looks surprisingly soft and, Dean thinks, kind of beautiful.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To sleep? You kind of wore me out, man.”
Sam sits up and pulls his legs to his chest. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I mean, unless you want to.”
“Sam, this is a pretty bad idea already.”
“We could make it a worse idea,” he offers playfully, fingers tracing the empty space next to him.
Dean’s brain screams no as loud as it can, but somehow Dean ends up buried under Sam’s covers, pulled close to bare skin, anyway.
_______________________________________________________________
“You are so busted.”
Dean blinks his eyes open and tries to clear his head. Next to him, Sam is sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Jess leans against the doorframe, letting the sun spill in, and holding up what looks like the jeans Sam was wearing last night and Dean’s shirt.
“Um.”
“So incredibly busted,” Jess repeats. “Oh goodness, did I ever catch you with your metaphorical and literal pants down.”
“None of that English major shit until I’m out of bed, Jess,” Sam grouses. He turns over and gives Dean a peck on the lips like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and then stands up to get his boxers on from their pool on the floor.
Jess smirks and doesn’t pretend modesty as she watches Sam getting dressed; Dean realizes he’s naked with his cousin in the room and pulls the blankets up to his chin.
Sam pads to the bath room and closes the door behind him. Jess turns her attention back to Dean.
“Rarely in history has anyone ever been as busted as you are. I wish I’d brought my camera. Then I could have sent Mary a candid with her Thanksgiving card.”
“Jess.”
“Yes, Dean, oh my wonderful Dean, who totally doesn’t like boys as he has told me for the last ten years but who totally just spent the night cuddling naked with my male roommate.”
“You aren’t a likable person.”
“No, probably not.”
“This was an accident.”
“Yeah, Dean, I don’t know about that one. I’m not completely convinced.”
“No, I mean, not that I…” Dean shoots a glance to the bathroom door and hears the shower start. “I really like him, Jess. Like, a lot. I fucked up big time.”
Jess’s smirk falls. “Oh, shit. Dean.”
Dean scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, we can fix this. I mean, it’s one night, right? Neither of you is going to pine to death or anything. You should probably stick to the couch tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” he admits.
Jess sits at the end of the bed and squeezes Dean’s feet through the blankets. “Look, why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go out for the day. You probably just need to spend some time with other people.” She makes a guilty face. “Sorry I kind of ditched you last night.”
“No, don’t be. I had a great time. I just…” Dean gestures at the mess around him and Jess nods.
“Come on, Dean, let’s get out of here.”
_______________________________________________________________
When they get back to the apartment, it smells like heaven probably should. Sam is in the kitchen and the table is set for three.
“Hey babe,” Jess says, tossing her keys on the counter. Sam turns from the oven and gives her a kiss, then looks at Dean shyly and turns away.
“You guys have a good day?”
“Yeah,” she says. “We saw one of those mindless disaster movies you won’t ever take me to.”
Sam’s lips tug up, but he sounds a little sad when he responds. “How was it?”
“Fucking awesome,” Dean answers. “Exploding shit everywhere. Lots of people getting eaten. Gratuitous boob shots. A masterpiece, I tell you.”
Sam’s smile fights to stay in place. “That sounds like torture, but I’m glad you guys had fun.”
“How about you? What’d you do?”
“I made dinner,” Sam says. “Unless you guys already ate. Which would be okay, too.”
“Well, we had a late lunch-”
“You kidding me? I’m starving.”
“I don’t know where you put it all,” Jess says, shaking her head. “I’m gonna leave you crazy kids to it. I’ve got a big test to study for on Monday, so I’m just gonna head to the library. And then maybe Brady’s. By which I mean you don’t have to worry about me being here tonight. Because I won’t be.”
“Please, be a little subtler,” Sam says flatly.
Jess laughs and emerges from her room five minutes later with a messenger bag thrown over one shoulder. She waves them goodbye and gives Dean a pat on the back on her way out the door.
Sam doesn’t say anything over dinner, so Dean finally kicks his foot under the table to get his attention. Sam looks up.
“Hey,” Dean says.
“Hi there.”
“This is really good.”
“Thanks. I don’t get many chances to cook, so I figured why not go all out?” He flattens his hand on the table and traces something out, eyes fixed on his fingers.
“Are you okay?”
Sam looks up for a second, then fixates on the tabletop again. “You don’t have to feel obligated to be nice to me, you know. I got the message this morning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You guys didn’t even wait to tell me you were going. I know it wasn’t an accident, I’m not as stupid as I look.”
“That’s a good thing, ‘cause you look pretty stupid.”
Sam smiles a little despite himself. “I like you, Dean, but I know when a fuck is a fuck. You don’t have to blow me off like I’m some chick you met in a bar.”
“It wasn’t like that at all, man.”
“Really, what was it like, then?”
“I don’t know. Confusing. Really confusing and much too nice and…I left because I was feeling like a chick you met in a bar, not the other way around. I’m not used to being that person.”
Sam makes a puzzled sound.
“Yeah, so. Jess and I thought maybe I should take a step back or something; see if I still felt that way at the end of the day.”
“And do you?”
“Would that be a good thing or a bad thing in your book?”
“I asked about your book,” Sam says, eyes narrowing.
“You really don’t let other people win, do you?”
“You really don’t ever answer questions directly, do you?”
“Yeah, Sam. I really like you. Happy?”
“Super happy.”
Dean laughs. “What, really?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not really in the closet over here.”
“That came to my attention a few times.”
“And…I can admit when I’ve got a crush.”
“But this doesn’t make any sense. You’re here and I’m everywhere, and you hate what I do and I can’t stop doing it.”
“Dean, you’re really bad at this.”
“Yeah, well, this relationship has officially lasted nine hours longer than my previous longest, so I don’t have much experience.”
Sam doesn’t say anything for a long time. He watches Dean, though, and bites his lip. “You’re cute,” he says.
“No. I’m sexy and manly and-”
“Adorable.”
Sam snatches Dean’s plate away and carries it to the kitchen with his own and the clean one sitting where Jess would have been. Dean hears the water start up as Sam comes out to start collecting leftovers.
Dean sits at the table for a few minutes, watching Sam move from one end of the kitchen to the other, wrapping things up and storing them, before he comes out and leans down to whisper into Dean’s ear on the way to his room.
“I’m going to bed, Dean. You should come with me.”
Dean’s out of his chair and following Sam in seconds.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up in the middle of the night to a cry and realizes Sam’s trembling in his sleep next to him. He turns over and begins to shake the other man.
Sam’s eyes dart around and he makes a face like a caged animal as soon as he’s awake. When he gets a look at Dean, he pushes him away.
“Dude, what the fuck?”
Sam shakes his head. He looks terrified and wild and Dean is worried, more so because he has no idea what’s going on.
“Sammy, what’s wrong?”
“It was you,” Sam says.
Dean’s eyebrows knit together. “Man, what are you talking about?”
“It was you,” he repeats sadly.
“What was me, Sam?”
Sam stops and settles himself, grabs the blankets and shakes the hair out of his face. “Nothing. It’s stupid. It was nothing. Just a nightmare.”
“Umm.” That wasn’t just a nightmare, Dean wants to say. No twenty year-old gets that freaked over a nightmare, but Dean doesn’t see the point in making Sam feel bad about it. “Look, why don’t you just lie back down and we can talk about this tomorrow?”
Sam looks around the room again before nodding like a pacified child and settling back in place. Dean is about to move to the other side of the bed, give Sam some space, but Sam reaches for him and pulls him in so tight it almost hurts. It scares Dean more than it probably should.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam is sitting up looking at him when Dean wakes up. Dean gives him a look and Sam turns his head sharply, apologizing.
“Are you planning to let me know what the hell happened last night?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” he says.
“Yeah, that is really not going to cut it.”
“I can’t, Dean. You’re a…you know, you were right. This whole thing was a bad idea.”
He gets out of bed then and pulls on his clothes, walks out of the room without giving Dean another glance.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean and Jess are messing around when Sam gets back from…wherever he stormed off to. Dean has a strand of Jess’s hair in one hand and is walking as far from her as he can manage without tugging, because somehow it seemed hilarious that Jess had long hair until Sam walked in looking like death warmed over.
Dean lets go of Jess and she sits back up immediately.
“Sammy, are you okay?”
“He doesn’t like it when people call him that.”
“He didn’t say anything be-” Dean stops and gives Sam a questioning look.
Sam averts his gaze. “When is he leaving?”
Dean does everything he can not to let Sam’s apparent desperation to be rid of him get to him. It doesn’t work. “Few hours and you’ll never have to see me again.”
Jess looks from one to the other and then makes an awkward noise. “What did I just walk in on?”
“Fucked if I know,” Dean answers.
“Nothing, I was just wondering when his plane leaves.”
“7:35. What’s it to you?”
“We need to talk. Alone.”
Jess doesn’t seem too disappointed to have an out from whatever’s going on, but Dean feels a little betrayed by how quickly she abandons him.
“Uh?”
“You can’t get on that plane.”
“What?”
“Don’t get on that plane. I know that between last night and today you probably think I’m crazy or something, but I am begging you not to get on that plane.”
“Jeez, I thought I was being clingy.”
“I’m not being clingy. Dean, I’m really serious. Not that plane, okay? Stay here or rent a car or get a flight tomorrow…or fucking walk, I don’t care. You can’t be on that plane.”
“You keep saying that, but I’m not hearing a why.”
“I...I can’t tell you why,” Sam says, sitting on the arm of the couch and facing Dean. “I’m asking you to take my word for it.”
“I don’t even really know you, and frankly, you’re creeping me out a little.”
“I’d creep you out more if I explained. But...Dean. I can’t let you.”
“Man, it’s pretty hard to weird me out knowing the things I know. I’m pretty sure you’re safe.”
“That’s exactly it. I’m not safe. You’re a hunter and I…” Sam swallows hard. “I saw you die, Dean. I saw you die and you brought the entire plane down with you and it was terrible and it’s going to happen because it’s happened before.”
“I’ve died in a plane crash before? That would explain why I hate flying.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Dude, you had a nightmare. That sucks. Doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”
“I’ve been having this dream for a month. I couldn’t see your face until last night, but I saw you. And the last time I saw a complete stranger die in a dream like that, I opened up my newspaper the next morning and there it was, exactly the way I’d seen it the night before. You’re gonna die on that plane.”
“You’re telling me you’re a psychic or something?”
“Or something.”
“And you weren’t telling me earlier because you thought I would hunt you?”
Sam shrugs. “Hunters are crazy, Dean.”
“I thought you were crazy for a minute there.”
“Well, I’m not. Yet.”
“So no airplane tonight?”
“No airplane.”
“That’s okay with me. You willing to share your bed again?”
Sam smiles, relieved. “Yeah, definitely, yeah.”
“I’m gonna need to get payback for the pain in my ass I woke up with this morning, too.”
Sam laughs, walks over to Dean, and presses their lips together with force-not deepening it, not getting greedy, just letting Dean know that he appreciates it.
_______________________________________________________________
Six weeks later, Dean pulls up in front of Jess and Sam’s apartment. They’re both waiting for him, Jess jumps up for a hug and Sam hangs back for a kiss when she’s done.
“This is your car? Really?”
“Cardinal rule, dude. You do not raise eyebrows at my baby.”
“I swear they were raised eyebrows of approval?”
Dean snorts and kisses Sam again.
“Don’t see why you couldn’t just fly, Sam has a car,” Jess says. “Did you seriously drive here all the way from Illinois?”
Sam and Dean exchange glances.
“No more flying,” Dean says. “Ever.”
“Okay, weirdo,” Jess replies. “Whatever.”
“You ready to go?”
Sam nods and lifts his duffel off the ground.
“I can’t believe you guys aren’t taking me on your road trip.”
“Who told you to have a job, Jess?”
“Who told you to be totally gay for my roommate?”
“Actually, you did.”
Jess stops and makes a speculative face. “Fuck.”
Sam laughs and watches her leave. She pauses one last time at the door to flip them the bird. As soon as it closes behind her, Sam turns to Dean excitedly.
“So what are we hunting again?”
“Woman in White,” Dean says. “You sure you want to do this? You don’t like hunting.”
“Something tells me I’ll like it just fine with you.”
Sam settles into the passenger seat and closes the door and Dean gets in next to him, leaning over for a kiss before putting the keys in the ignition. Sam laughs as soon as Zeppelin starts pouring from the stereo, asks Dean if he’s serious. Dean turns it up louder and can’t shake the feeling that things are exactly how they should be.
Want more? HERE'S A TIMESTAMP
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean (not related), background Jess/(not demon!)Brady
Genre: Schmoop
Rating: R for Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 6,640
Author’s Note: Written for the BEAUTIFUL SHINING FLAME IN THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MY HEART WHO GUIDES ME HOME WHEN I AM STRANDED UPON A STORMY SEA, familiardevil. She asked for: “I DON'T KNOW IF YOU DO NON-BROTHER AUs TBH! BUT HERE I GO ANYWAY. I would love an AU where like, Jess and Dean are cousins or something (OR SOMETHING but not siblings because that's too much codependency up in that shit) and they can both be hunters or whatever but Jess goes to college and her roommate is Saaaam and Dean meets him and they get toooogether. I WANT SOME FUCKING SCHMOOP. AND COTTON CANDY. LITERAL COTTON CANDY. AND SEX.” IDK if you were kidding about the cotton candy, but you get it, anyway. Also, DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THAR WITH THE TITLE, FAMILIAR? I really hope that your birthday was spectacular, baby, I’m sorry this is a few days late <3333 Thank you to her wife, coyotesuspect, for being unfaithful to her with me often, and also for looking over this to make sure it looks okay, I guess. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this and the timestamp in epub format here.
Summary: Dean isn’t gay. Not even a little bit. At least, not until he visits his cousin, Jess, at Stanford and meets her roommate, Sam.
couldn't quite say who we still are.'>Jess is waiting outside the airport by the time Dean’s stepping out the door. She’s reclining against what he assumes was a graduation present last year, a bright red Mustang, and smiling as bright as the California sun beating down on him. She looks like she was born for this kind of weather. Dean, in contrast, is already itching to get into the air conditioning.
“Hello there, handsome stranger,” she says.
Dean scowls. He’s spent the last five years worrying that Jess is a little too pretty and much too friendly for her own good, and college only seems to have made the problem worse.
“Aww, look at you.” Jess steps away from the car. “You’re shaking like a wet kitten.”
“Don’t start with me,” Dean says, smiling and wrapping his arms around his cousin. “You know I hate flying.”
“It’s okay, baby, the big scary plane can’t hurt you now.”
“Bite me, bedwetter.”
Jess smacks Dean’s shoulder. “I was five years old, Dean!”
“My superman sheets will never forgive you, and neither will I.”
Jess laughs. “How was your flight?”
Dean glares in response.
“Fine, fine, point taken. Will lunch make it better? I’m paying.”
“Oh, okay. Now I remember why I got on a plane to come see you.”
“That’s my boy,” Jess replies, closing the car door behind her.
She takes Dean to a pizzeria about ten minutes from the airport and, in true Jess fashion, tells him what he’ll be having down to the rolls they share.
“So, which of your hot roommates will I be sharing a bed with this weekend?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows.
To his surprise, Jess perks up. “I was gonna have you on the couch, but if you really want to cuddle with Sam, I won’t stop you.”
“What’s this? Sam must be a real dog if you’re being that cool about it. You got all bitchy when I hooked up with…what was her name?”
Jess rolls her eyes. “Melissa. She was gross, Dean. I was doing you a favor.”
“She was cute.”
“Sam is cuter.”
“Okay, what’s the catch?”
“He has a dick,” Jess says casually as Dean takes a sip from his soda and nearly spits it out on her.
“I always forget what a lady you are,” Dean manages once he’s swallowed what’s left in his mouth. “How the hell did you manage to convince Aunt Charlotte to let you live with your boyfriend?”
“Mom understands the sacred relationship between a girl and her gay soul mate, that’s all.”
“Wait, what? You need to warn me of this shit before you trick me into agreeing to, what, a set up?”
“Not a set up! I just wanted to see my favorite cousin. And I happen to live with the man you’re going to marry.”
“For the thousandth time, Jessica, I am not gay.”
“Oh, but you are.”
“Oh, but I’m not.”
“Whatever, Dean. I can’t hear you through the thick, thick walls of that closet you live inside.”
“You didn’t tell him I’m interested, right? I’m not gonna get groped in my sleep?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, princess. Sam doesn’t exactly need to be creepy to get laid.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
“Well, duh, everyone is a little bit in love with Sam Winchester.”
Dean laughs. “What’s so great about this guy?”
Jess smiles enigmatically. “I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
Jess spends the rest of the meal telling Dean about her life since he last saw her over the summer, all the classes she’s taking and parties she’s going to. Dean then gets to do his best at avoiding questions and makes something up about what he’s doing with his life. By the time they’re back in the car and parked in front of Jess’s apartment, all Dean really wants to do is lay down some salt lines and go to bed. Or couch. Whatever.
“Honey, I’m home,” Jess shouts as soon as she’s got the door open. “And we have company.”
Something that vaguely resembles a mountain with hair walks out of the left bedroom. He’s got nothing but boxers on and, sure, he’s built like a statue, but Dean doesn’t see what Jess has been going on about all night, he’s just a kid with a tired expression and too much hair in his face.
“Hey, Jess.” The guy turns to look at Dean and smiles. His mouth is wide, but that didn’t prepare Dean for the way his face changes when he’s smiling. He’s got big, perfect teeth and dimples and Dean thinks, shit. He definitely gets it now. “Hey, you must be Dean.”
“Dean, this is Sam,” Jess says.
Sam reaches out a hand and Dean’s eyes dodge down at his long fingers for half a second before his tongue dodges out and licks at his lips. His brain doesn’t catch up for another moment, which is when he realizes he should probably shake the guy’s hand and stop staring.
“Hey. Yeah. Dean.”
“Well, welcome, I guess,” Sam says as he gives Dean a shake and lets go. “Sorry about, uh. I’ll be wearing clothes next time you see me, I promise.”
“Don’t do that to me, Sam. I have so little to live for,” Jess says, brushing past him and stopping to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“No more from you, young lady. You’ve got a physics test in the morning. Bedtime.”
Jess rolls her eyes and shoots Dean the same look she used to give him when her mom would find them trying to get away with sneaking extra dessert or when Mary wouldn’t buy them whatever toy they decided they needed while at the mall. Dean can’t hold in the laugh-it’s been years since anyone’s been able to out-mommy Jess.
Despite the patent Jessica Moore pout, she does as she’s told, wishes them both a goodnight and disappears into the bathroom. Dean drops his duffel on the couch and Sam slides past him into the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything, man? A beer, some water?”
Dean hesitates. “Don’t imagine you have some salt I could borrow?”
Sam’s head snaps up, and Dean can tell something’s bothering him, even though he’s got himself back under control in a few seconds. “What do you want salt for?”
Dean shrugs. “I just like salt.”
Sam’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head, but eventually he shrugs. “Top right corner, second shelf.”
Dean thanks him and Sam disappears into his room again. Dean waits until the door is shut to sprint for the cabinet Sam indicated, but he stops with one hand on the salt, when he gets a look at the door. There’s a thin ring of salt laid down already, arranged carefully so that it won’t be broken every time someone walks in. His eyes scan the room-sure enough, every window has a line of salt, too.
“Were you gonna use that for anything?”
Dean jumps, turns to find Sam leaning against the door to his room. Dean hadn’t even heard it open, and he’s generally pretty good about these things. The evidence is pretty clear cut.
“You’re a hunter,” Dean says, doesn’t ask.
“Was,” Sam answers shortly. “Was a hunter. Not anymore.”
“But…what?”
Sam laughs. “Yeah, I had a feeling about you,” he says. “Jess talks about you all the time, you know. You’re her favorite. Every story starts with, ‘My cousin, Dean,’ as if I don’t know who you are already.” Sam shakes his head and his hair finally leaves his eyes. He continues, “Or what you are.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Sam shrugs easily and walks across the living room, leaning against the kitchen counter once he reaches it. “Of course I do. We’re practically old buddies by now.”
Dean feels his jaw tighten. This is something he hates about meeting other hunters: they all seem to think common occupation makes you friends or something.
“I never heard of you in my life until I got off the plane today.”
Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it. “Nonetheless, I know all kinds of things about you. Things Jess doesn’t even know.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Like that the scar on your side was a werewolf, not a pit bull. And the time you burnt the haunted house down in high school wasn’t really an accident.” Sam grimaces. “I know things Jess wasn’t supposed to tell, too. Like how you made out with Jack Dermond after homecoming sophomore year and liked it.”
Dean blanches. “That bitch.”
“You can’t be upset, Dean. You should have known better than to tell her your secrets.”
Dean laughs despite himself. “It was a triple-dog-dare.”
Sam smiles just a little bit.
“How’d you figure all that other stuff out?”
Sam shrugs. “I’m smart.”
“And modest.”
Another one of those blinding smiles. “You were interesting. I paid attention to what she said about you, and I knew the signs from experience. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”
“How creeped out am I right now that you thought I was ‘interesting’?”
“You’re her family,” Sam says simply. His eyes dim a little, even as he tries to hold the smile in place. “I just didn’t realize what that was like. It sounded kind of nice.”
“You don’t have a family?” Dean asks.
Sam shakes his head. “Not that I ever met, at least. Just me and my dad on the road, hunting shit. It was. Well, it fucking sucked.”
“What about your mom?”
Sam frowns. “She died when I was a baby. There was a fire in my nursery. Some…thing. Dad thinks it was a demon, but we don’t know for sure.”
“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s fine. Anyway, he raised me on the road so he could try and find the thing. Getting it back was pretty much all he cared about.”
“He must have really loved her.”
“Sometimes it felt like it was more about revenge than anything.” Sam breaks out of the moment. “Wow, I’m sorry. It’s, uh, not therapy time. We just didn’t really get along.”
“Hence why you’re not a hunter anymore?”
“Among other things. I mean, living with your lovely cousin and going to a great school beats the shit out of hunting, am I right?”
“Hell no,” Dean says. “Hunting’s the best.”
“Wow. Hello, Stockholm Syndrome.”
“No, seriously. You get to shoot shit and save lives. What’s better than that?”
“Living to see thirty?”
“Overrated,” Dean says with a laugh.
Sam tilts his head. “Do you mind me asking how you…?”
“My mom’s family was big in hunting. She didn’t want to raise me one, but she told me about it once I was old enough to make a choice. Haven’t looked back since.”
“You were 15?”
“Going on 16. And I still find it really unnerving that you know my life story.”
“Sorry. I’m a good listener.” He averts his gaze then and Dean knows there’s more to it than that.
“She really talk about me that often? I mean, we got along as kids, but it’s not like we lived together.”
Sam turns around and walks to his room then, pauses at the door. “Good night, Dean. It was nice meeting you finally.”
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up the next day to an empty apartment and a note from Jess telling him breakfast is in the fridge-if his lazy ass will make it. Dean decides to forego the trouble of scrambling his own eggs and brewing his own coffee and sets off to troll campus for the nearest Starbucks, McDonald’s, or whatever will get him caffeinated.
He returns to the apartment 45 minutes later without any success and finds Sam on the couch watching TV, wearing a shirt this time as promised.
“Hey man,” Sam says, half turning his head in acknowledgement. It’s weird, seeing him acting the role of a college kid so effortlessly when Dean had talked to him last night in hunter mode.
“Hey. Do I smell coffee?”
“Mmmhmm. Help yourself.”
Sam would have had to fight to come between Dean and the coffee at this point, but Dean doesn’t say anything to that effect, just gets down a mug and starts filling it. He takes it over to the couch and sits next to Sam. The blanket he’d slept on the night before is folded carefully and resting on top of his pillow and Dean can’t help rolling his eyes.
“A little anal retentive?”
Sam looks over for only a second before he’s glued back on the television. “Jess makes fun of it, too.”
“So why do you do it?”
Sam shrugs. “Old habits.” He seems to make up his mind about something, powering off the set and turning to Dean. “Look, do you and Jess have plans tonight?”
“Uh, alright, whatever she told you about me liking dick-”
Sam laughs. “Jess was right, you do think highly of yourself.”
Dean shifts awkwardly. “So you weren’t about to ask me out tonight?”
“I was about to ask both of you out tonight,” Sam says smirking.
“Ah.”
“It’s alright, don’t feel too put out. I would definitely be hitting on you if Jess hadn’t already informed me that you’re straight.”
“Thanks?”
Sam pats Dean on the thigh and gets up. “So you guys have plans or what?”
“We, um. I don’t know. I was going to sit around watching TV and drinking beer until she told me to move and pointed in a direction.”
Sam raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, bite me. Why do you want to know?”
“There’s…okay, I know how lame this is going to sound, but stay with me here. There’s a little carnival thing in town this weekend and I thought it might be fun if we…students are half price on Thursdays.”
Dean laughs and Sam pulls a face.
“Alright, it was a stupid idea. Forget I brought it up,” he says sourly.
“No, no. It sounds fun. Hotdogs and bumper cars and all that shit. Think we can get Jess on board?”
Sam’s eyes brighten and his mouth quirks. “Leave her to me.”
_______________________________________________________________
“What the fuck is a Brady?” Dean asks bitterly.
Sam laughs, his eyes fixed on Jess walking a few paces ahead of them, arm-in-arm with some preppy blond dude. “Brady is his name, Dean. And he is her boyfriend.”
“She never mentioned any boyfriend to me.”
Sam’s lips turn down. “They had a rough patch a few months ago.”
Dean’s fingers curl into fists. “Was he treating her badly?”
Sam grabs Dean’s hand and smoothes his fingers out with urgency. Dean kind of regrets it when he lets go.
“Kind of? He was, but not really.” Sam’s eyes dart ahead again and his voice gets lower. “He was possessed by a demon. A really nasty one, too, but I figured it out and…we agreed not to tell her. I figure you would have told her about that stuff if you wanted her to know and…he really cares about her, Dean. You don’t know how sorry he was.”
Dean grunts in reply.
“I didn’t think she would invite him, I swear.”
Dean looks over and smiles. “Well, kid, like it or not, you got me to yourself all night.”
“Not until after we pass the fun house.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a fun house up ahead. Jess is going to stop in front of it and mock me. She does it every year, even if she’s with a guy.”
“Why would she make fun of you over a-?”
“Hey, Sam,” Jess cries out. “Do you want a picture with Bozo the Clown?”
She’s standing in front of the aforementioned fun house, pointing to a clown painted onto the side.
“Fuck off,” Sam replies, sticking out his tongue.
“Oh no! I forgot. I won’t let him hurt you, Sam.”
“I hate you,” Sam says. He turns to face Dean and sees the questioning look Dean’s aiming at him. “I don’t like clowns, okay? They’re fucking creepy.”
Jess cracks up then. Brady smiles and gives her a good natured push.
“Give him a break,” Dean says. He winks at Sam and then adds, “bedwetter.”
Jess goes bright red and her eyes widen. She turns to Brady. “I was five.”
“I’m sure you were,” Brady says, putting his arm around her shoulder and ushering her forward. He turns back and gives Dean a sly smile, so Dean decides he’s not so bad after all.
“My hero!” Sam exclaims, throwing his hands into the air and batting his eyes.
Dean shoves Sam in the side. “So what do we do now?”
“Come on, man, that’s obvious.” Sam points to the shooting game about ten paces to their left and gives Dean a cocky smile. “We gotta test who the better shot is.”
“No crying when I beat you, alright?”
“I don’t know, Dean, I’m pretty good.”
“Out of practice.”
“We’ll see.”
The contest is moot in the end, because neither Sam nor Dean misses a shot. The man working at the booth makes an annoyed face as he orders them to let him know which of the prizes they want.
“Want me to get the clown and give it to you?” Dean asks.
Sam pouts. “I thought you were on my side,” he says, pointing to the wolf he wants. The guy grabs it down and the clown topples on to him. Dean decides that’s a sign and takes it.
“Here,” Sam says, shoving the wolf into Dean’s hands after Dean refuses to move until Sam accepts his clown. “A toy for you to amuse yourself with, you child.”
“Awesome,” Dean says as he takes it, just to throw Sam off. “Bumper cars now?”
“Oh my god, I got tricked into babysitting. Man, that sucks, I’m not even getting paid.”
“Watch it, bitch, I’m older than you.”
“Don’t call me a bitch, jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Sam sighs and speeds up, leaving Dean to trail him to the bumper cars.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam and Dean end up walking shoulder-to-shoulder on the pier, waiting for a call from Jess that she’s ready to go home. They’ve ridden all of the roller coasters that the fair has to offer, ended up tied on game booths (Sam is better at balloon darts and basketball, Dean beats him at baseball pitching and the lily pad toss, and they play literally every game that even resembles shooting a gun in the damn place but neither of them ever misses), and had hot dogs about an hour in. Dean is now watching Sam eat cotton candy and feeling a little bit like he ended up on a date after all. He doesn’t mind it quite as much as he probably should.
“I still won, you know,” Dean insists. “I’m a better hunter than you.”
“Pie eating is not a marketable skill, Dean.”
“Well neither is guessing the amount of jelly beans in a jar, but you made me count that one.”
“That’s about perception!”
“Yeah, well, what if you’re on a hunt and you’re really fucking hungry and you have to eat before something sneaks up and eats you?”
“You didn’t win.”
“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Sammy.”
Sam bites his lip and then shrugs his shoulders. “Wanna go on the ferry?”
“Was that a pick up line? Because that was pretty suave.”
Sam throws his head back on the laugh and points to the end of the pier. “Fifteen minute ferry ride, Dean. It’s free with admission, and we have nothing better to do.”
“What the hell is the point of going on a boat ride in the middle of a carnival?”
Sam looks down, almost like he’s blushing. “You can see the stars better.”
Dean doesn’t know what the hell comes over him, but he grabs on to Sam’s jacket and tugs him forward onto the dock.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam reclines against the railing, his head thrown back as he looks up at the sky. Dean can’t focus on the stars, can’t really see anything except the exposed skin of Sam’s throat. He swallows uncomfortably and Sam shakes himself out of the moment, looks down at Dean like he’d forgotten where he was.
“They’re nice, huh?”
“Stargazing, really?”
Sam laughs, pulling a piece of pink cotton candy and shoving it into his mouth.
“I have to have some gay hobbies, right? Or I’d be a pretty lousy fag.”
Dean catches the way Sam spits the word out. He thinks back on the few things Sam’s said about his dad in the last few days and frowns, but he doesn’t really know what to say.
For his part, Sam’s already over it, is lifting another piece of cotton candy-blue this time-to his mouth. Dean grabs his hand and steers it towards his own mouth instead. Sam lets him have it, but Dean doesn’t miss how fast he pulls his hand back.
“That’s torture,” Sam says, eyes fixed on Dean’s mouth. “You’re not nice.”
“What?”
Sam licks his lips. “Jess didn’t warn me about you, you know.”
“What’s there to warn for?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
Dean meets Sam’s eyes.
“Sorry, I know I’m making this really awkward for you. But. You’ve been touching me all night and now the cotton candy thing. It’s not cool.”
Dean wipes his hand over his mouth and figures fuck it. Sam’s still got spun sugar on his lips and they’re on a boat looking at stars of all things, there’s not a whole lot of point in pretending this isn’t kind of gay already.
“Ah, what the hell,” Dean says, shrugging. He leans forward and captures Sam’s lips and Sam opens his mouth in surprise. Dean grabs his face then and holds him hard and Sam is smiling as his tongue begins to respond.
Sam’s phone vibrates against Dean’s leg and they pull apart. The ferry is steering back for the dock; Dean knows Jess is texting to tell them where to meet her and the moment is over. He really, really doesn’t want it to be.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam closes the door behind him and then presses his body against it. Dean returns his stare, relaxing against the back of the couch.
“I leave in two days,” Dean says, because he knows what they’re both thinking.
“Yeah, I know.” Sam rubs the back of his neck.
“So this is…”
“Yeah.”
“She’s not coming home, is she?”
Sam shakes his head. “Brady’s got her until at least noon.”
“What’s your position on two night stands?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam takes a step towards him. “I could do worse.”
“I…I don’t do this with guys a lot.”
“I know. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t feel pressured.”
“Okay,” Sam says with a quick nod.
“Okay.”
Dean takes a step towards the door, until him and Sam are arm’s length away, but neither makes any indication that they’re going to move forward.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Dean informs Sam, bringing his fingers up to stroke the skin behind the other man’s ear.
“You do that,” Sam says, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “That would be fine wi-”
The walk to Sam’s room is backwards for Dean. They don’t stop kissing the entire time, don’t pause as their hands try to tear clothes away and their feet try to get them to bed and their mouths apparently try to forge into one unit.
They exchange blowjobs. Sam gets Dean off with an experienced mouth and a prodding finger in what Dean is pretty sure is record time. It takes longer for Dean-he’s only done this a few times and none of the guys has ever packed what Sam shoves down his throat-but Sam doesn’t complain. Dean probably likes sucking Sam off even more than having Sam suck him off, which is definitely new, and even though he’s never let anyone do it, he spends the whole time wanting Sam to stuff him full of cock, gets hard all over again and has to stroke himself off while Sam’s still in his mouth. Tomorrow, he decides, he’s gonna ask Sam to fuck him.
When Dean’s done spitting up what he can’t swallow-and doesn’t that just make him feel pathetic, because Sam seemed to have no problem handling his come-he decides to head straight for the living room from the bathroom, figures stopping to kiss Sam will look needy, even if it would feel really, really good.
Sam’s raised on his side, facing the bathroom, when Dean comes out. He looks surprisingly soft and, Dean thinks, kind of beautiful.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To sleep? You kind of wore me out, man.”
Sam sits up and pulls his legs to his chest. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I mean, unless you want to.”
“Sam, this is a pretty bad idea already.”
“We could make it a worse idea,” he offers playfully, fingers tracing the empty space next to him.
Dean’s brain screams no as loud as it can, but somehow Dean ends up buried under Sam’s covers, pulled close to bare skin, anyway.
_______________________________________________________________
“You are so busted.”
Dean blinks his eyes open and tries to clear his head. Next to him, Sam is sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Jess leans against the doorframe, letting the sun spill in, and holding up what looks like the jeans Sam was wearing last night and Dean’s shirt.
“Um.”
“So incredibly busted,” Jess repeats. “Oh goodness, did I ever catch you with your metaphorical and literal pants down.”
“None of that English major shit until I’m out of bed, Jess,” Sam grouses. He turns over and gives Dean a peck on the lips like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and then stands up to get his boxers on from their pool on the floor.
Jess smirks and doesn’t pretend modesty as she watches Sam getting dressed; Dean realizes he’s naked with his cousin in the room and pulls the blankets up to his chin.
Sam pads to the bath room and closes the door behind him. Jess turns her attention back to Dean.
“Rarely in history has anyone ever been as busted as you are. I wish I’d brought my camera. Then I could have sent Mary a candid with her Thanksgiving card.”
“Jess.”
“Yes, Dean, oh my wonderful Dean, who totally doesn’t like boys as he has told me for the last ten years but who totally just spent the night cuddling naked with my male roommate.”
“You aren’t a likable person.”
“No, probably not.”
“This was an accident.”
“Yeah, Dean, I don’t know about that one. I’m not completely convinced.”
“No, I mean, not that I…” Dean shoots a glance to the bathroom door and hears the shower start. “I really like him, Jess. Like, a lot. I fucked up big time.”
Jess’s smirk falls. “Oh, shit. Dean.”
Dean scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, we can fix this. I mean, it’s one night, right? Neither of you is going to pine to death or anything. You should probably stick to the couch tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” he admits.
Jess sits at the end of the bed and squeezes Dean’s feet through the blankets. “Look, why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go out for the day. You probably just need to spend some time with other people.” She makes a guilty face. “Sorry I kind of ditched you last night.”
“No, don’t be. I had a great time. I just…” Dean gestures at the mess around him and Jess nods.
“Come on, Dean, let’s get out of here.”
_______________________________________________________________
When they get back to the apartment, it smells like heaven probably should. Sam is in the kitchen and the table is set for three.
“Hey babe,” Jess says, tossing her keys on the counter. Sam turns from the oven and gives her a kiss, then looks at Dean shyly and turns away.
“You guys have a good day?”
“Yeah,” she says. “We saw one of those mindless disaster movies you won’t ever take me to.”
Sam’s lips tug up, but he sounds a little sad when he responds. “How was it?”
“Fucking awesome,” Dean answers. “Exploding shit everywhere. Lots of people getting eaten. Gratuitous boob shots. A masterpiece, I tell you.”
Sam’s smile fights to stay in place. “That sounds like torture, but I’m glad you guys had fun.”
“How about you? What’d you do?”
“I made dinner,” Sam says. “Unless you guys already ate. Which would be okay, too.”
“Well, we had a late lunch-”
“You kidding me? I’m starving.”
“I don’t know where you put it all,” Jess says, shaking her head. “I’m gonna leave you crazy kids to it. I’ve got a big test to study for on Monday, so I’m just gonna head to the library. And then maybe Brady’s. By which I mean you don’t have to worry about me being here tonight. Because I won’t be.”
“Please, be a little subtler,” Sam says flatly.
Jess laughs and emerges from her room five minutes later with a messenger bag thrown over one shoulder. She waves them goodbye and gives Dean a pat on the back on her way out the door.
Sam doesn’t say anything over dinner, so Dean finally kicks his foot under the table to get his attention. Sam looks up.
“Hey,” Dean says.
“Hi there.”
“This is really good.”
“Thanks. I don’t get many chances to cook, so I figured why not go all out?” He flattens his hand on the table and traces something out, eyes fixed on his fingers.
“Are you okay?”
Sam looks up for a second, then fixates on the tabletop again. “You don’t have to feel obligated to be nice to me, you know. I got the message this morning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You guys didn’t even wait to tell me you were going. I know it wasn’t an accident, I’m not as stupid as I look.”
“That’s a good thing, ‘cause you look pretty stupid.”
Sam smiles a little despite himself. “I like you, Dean, but I know when a fuck is a fuck. You don’t have to blow me off like I’m some chick you met in a bar.”
“It wasn’t like that at all, man.”
“Really, what was it like, then?”
“I don’t know. Confusing. Really confusing and much too nice and…I left because I was feeling like a chick you met in a bar, not the other way around. I’m not used to being that person.”
Sam makes a puzzled sound.
“Yeah, so. Jess and I thought maybe I should take a step back or something; see if I still felt that way at the end of the day.”
“And do you?”
“Would that be a good thing or a bad thing in your book?”
“I asked about your book,” Sam says, eyes narrowing.
“You really don’t let other people win, do you?”
“You really don’t ever answer questions directly, do you?”
“Yeah, Sam. I really like you. Happy?”
“Super happy.”
Dean laughs. “What, really?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not really in the closet over here.”
“That came to my attention a few times.”
“And…I can admit when I’ve got a crush.”
“But this doesn’t make any sense. You’re here and I’m everywhere, and you hate what I do and I can’t stop doing it.”
“Dean, you’re really bad at this.”
“Yeah, well, this relationship has officially lasted nine hours longer than my previous longest, so I don’t have much experience.”
Sam doesn’t say anything for a long time. He watches Dean, though, and bites his lip. “You’re cute,” he says.
“No. I’m sexy and manly and-”
“Adorable.”
Sam snatches Dean’s plate away and carries it to the kitchen with his own and the clean one sitting where Jess would have been. Dean hears the water start up as Sam comes out to start collecting leftovers.
Dean sits at the table for a few minutes, watching Sam move from one end of the kitchen to the other, wrapping things up and storing them, before he comes out and leans down to whisper into Dean’s ear on the way to his room.
“I’m going to bed, Dean. You should come with me.”
Dean’s out of his chair and following Sam in seconds.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean wakes up in the middle of the night to a cry and realizes Sam’s trembling in his sleep next to him. He turns over and begins to shake the other man.
Sam’s eyes dart around and he makes a face like a caged animal as soon as he’s awake. When he gets a look at Dean, he pushes him away.
“Dude, what the fuck?”
Sam shakes his head. He looks terrified and wild and Dean is worried, more so because he has no idea what’s going on.
“Sammy, what’s wrong?”
“It was you,” Sam says.
Dean’s eyebrows knit together. “Man, what are you talking about?”
“It was you,” he repeats sadly.
“What was me, Sam?”
Sam stops and settles himself, grabs the blankets and shakes the hair out of his face. “Nothing. It’s stupid. It was nothing. Just a nightmare.”
“Umm.” That wasn’t just a nightmare, Dean wants to say. No twenty year-old gets that freaked over a nightmare, but Dean doesn’t see the point in making Sam feel bad about it. “Look, why don’t you just lie back down and we can talk about this tomorrow?”
Sam looks around the room again before nodding like a pacified child and settling back in place. Dean is about to move to the other side of the bed, give Sam some space, but Sam reaches for him and pulls him in so tight it almost hurts. It scares Dean more than it probably should.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam is sitting up looking at him when Dean wakes up. Dean gives him a look and Sam turns his head sharply, apologizing.
“Are you planning to let me know what the hell happened last night?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” he says.
“Yeah, that is really not going to cut it.”
“I can’t, Dean. You’re a…you know, you were right. This whole thing was a bad idea.”
He gets out of bed then and pulls on his clothes, walks out of the room without giving Dean another glance.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean and Jess are messing around when Sam gets back from…wherever he stormed off to. Dean has a strand of Jess’s hair in one hand and is walking as far from her as he can manage without tugging, because somehow it seemed hilarious that Jess had long hair until Sam walked in looking like death warmed over.
Dean lets go of Jess and she sits back up immediately.
“Sammy, are you okay?”
“He doesn’t like it when people call him that.”
“He didn’t say anything be-” Dean stops and gives Sam a questioning look.
Sam averts his gaze. “When is he leaving?”
Dean does everything he can not to let Sam’s apparent desperation to be rid of him get to him. It doesn’t work. “Few hours and you’ll never have to see me again.”
Jess looks from one to the other and then makes an awkward noise. “What did I just walk in on?”
“Fucked if I know,” Dean answers.
“Nothing, I was just wondering when his plane leaves.”
“7:35. What’s it to you?”
“We need to talk. Alone.”
Jess doesn’t seem too disappointed to have an out from whatever’s going on, but Dean feels a little betrayed by how quickly she abandons him.
“Uh?”
“You can’t get on that plane.”
“What?”
“Don’t get on that plane. I know that between last night and today you probably think I’m crazy or something, but I am begging you not to get on that plane.”
“Jeez, I thought I was being clingy.”
“I’m not being clingy. Dean, I’m really serious. Not that plane, okay? Stay here or rent a car or get a flight tomorrow…or fucking walk, I don’t care. You can’t be on that plane.”
“You keep saying that, but I’m not hearing a why.”
“I...I can’t tell you why,” Sam says, sitting on the arm of the couch and facing Dean. “I’m asking you to take my word for it.”
“I don’t even really know you, and frankly, you’re creeping me out a little.”
“I’d creep you out more if I explained. But...Dean. I can’t let you.”
“Man, it’s pretty hard to weird me out knowing the things I know. I’m pretty sure you’re safe.”
“That’s exactly it. I’m not safe. You’re a hunter and I…” Sam swallows hard. “I saw you die, Dean. I saw you die and you brought the entire plane down with you and it was terrible and it’s going to happen because it’s happened before.”
“I’ve died in a plane crash before? That would explain why I hate flying.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Dude, you had a nightmare. That sucks. Doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”
“I’ve been having this dream for a month. I couldn’t see your face until last night, but I saw you. And the last time I saw a complete stranger die in a dream like that, I opened up my newspaper the next morning and there it was, exactly the way I’d seen it the night before. You’re gonna die on that plane.”
“You’re telling me you’re a psychic or something?”
“Or something.”
“And you weren’t telling me earlier because you thought I would hunt you?”
Sam shrugs. “Hunters are crazy, Dean.”
“I thought you were crazy for a minute there.”
“Well, I’m not. Yet.”
“So no airplane tonight?”
“No airplane.”
“That’s okay with me. You willing to share your bed again?”
Sam smiles, relieved. “Yeah, definitely, yeah.”
“I’m gonna need to get payback for the pain in my ass I woke up with this morning, too.”
Sam laughs, walks over to Dean, and presses their lips together with force-not deepening it, not getting greedy, just letting Dean know that he appreciates it.
_______________________________________________________________
Six weeks later, Dean pulls up in front of Jess and Sam’s apartment. They’re both waiting for him, Jess jumps up for a hug and Sam hangs back for a kiss when she’s done.
“This is your car? Really?”
“Cardinal rule, dude. You do not raise eyebrows at my baby.”
“I swear they were raised eyebrows of approval?”
Dean snorts and kisses Sam again.
“Don’t see why you couldn’t just fly, Sam has a car,” Jess says. “Did you seriously drive here all the way from Illinois?”
Sam and Dean exchange glances.
“No more flying,” Dean says. “Ever.”
“Okay, weirdo,” Jess replies. “Whatever.”
“You ready to go?”
Sam nods and lifts his duffel off the ground.
“I can’t believe you guys aren’t taking me on your road trip.”
“Who told you to have a job, Jess?”
“Who told you to be totally gay for my roommate?”
“Actually, you did.”
Jess stops and makes a speculative face. “Fuck.”
Sam laughs and watches her leave. She pauses one last time at the door to flip them the bird. As soon as it closes behind her, Sam turns to Dean excitedly.
“So what are we hunting again?”
“Woman in White,” Dean says. “You sure you want to do this? You don’t like hunting.”
“Something tells me I’ll like it just fine with you.”
Sam settles into the passenger seat and closes the door and Dean gets in next to him, leaning over for a kiss before putting the keys in the ignition. Sam laughs as soon as Zeppelin starts pouring from the stereo, asks Dean if he’s serious. Dean turns it up louder and can’t shake the feeling that things are exactly how they should be.
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