Takes One to Know One, Part 2 [nc17] Sam/Alec/Dean, SPN/DA/GG xover
Title: Takes One to Know One (sequel to If You Only Knew)
Author: queenklu
Beta by: no one, because a beta shouldn't have to beta her b-day pressie ^^
Crossover: Supernatural/Dark Angel/Gilmore Girls
Pairings: Sam/Dean, Sam/Alec/Dean, Alec/Dean Forester (from Gilmore Girls) *...nod*
Rating/Warnings: NC17, Wincest, threesome, cracktastic pairings...
Word Count: 15,000+ O.O How did this happen? Why can't i just write a !@&*!@# threesome without character developement like everyone else??? *headdeskflail*
A/n HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHRI_AMATO!!!!! *CLING!!* Also, i have no idea how/why this story ended up from Alec's POV, but...that just means freakishly hot outsider pov on the wincest! =DD
Summary: After the secret of Sam's ex-boyfriend and a not-so-platonic-brotherly-love came out (in more ways than one), Alec never thought Sam would want to see him again. So when Sam shows up at Jam Pony looking just a little bit shorter, little bit younger, and acting like he's never seen Alec in his life because he grew up in the dinky nothing-town of Star's Hollow? Things get interesting. Fast.
Persephone’s was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall diner that nearly every street rat and Jam Pony messenger populated for at least one meal a day. Not the best place to come out to your ex and his new boyfriend about being a transgenic, but it was all he could find on short notice.
“That’s…not the same as transvestite, is it?” Dean asked, lips twitching in a nervous smile.
So he explained about Manticore.
Not too surprisingly, Dean was the first one to break the aching silence.
“God fucking dammit,” he snapped at his silverware, “Not like there’s enough monsters roaming the word, someone’s got to fucking make them.”
“Dean,” Sam growled.
“No, he’s right,” Alec cut him off, voice tight. “But you want to blame somebody, blame Manticore. We aren’t the monsters. Not all of us. And the ones who are-we deal with them. In house. This isn’t a problem for outsiders.”
“Yeah but outsiders are going to think it is,” Dean grumbled, then stuffed his mouth with french fries and widened big innocent eyes in Sam’s disapproving direction. “Wff? Meyarr.”
“I have feline DNA in my cocktail,” Alec pressed on before Sam could strangle his brother, and scrubbed a hand across his mouth. “It’s…why I’m a little high-strung right now. I’m in, uh, heat.”
Both Winchester’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. Which did nothing to stop Dean from choking on his fries.
“Holy fuck,” he coughed, thumping on his chest. “You’re kidding!”
“I want to fuck you with the ketchup bottle.”
Sam buried his laughing face in his giant hands, shoulders shaking as Dean’s mouth fell open in a not-exactly-appealing way before he swallowed and forced out, “You’re not kidding. Hot damn.”
“You looking to take advantage of me, Winchester?” Alec purred, letting every ounce of heat he’d been fighting against show in his voice. Dean slunk a little lower in his chair like Alec’s stare was hot enough to melt, belly up and inviting as he smiled. Sam’s laugh turned into a cough, but he was grinning the whole time he caught his breath, eyes dark and fixed on his ex in a way that used to mean, Men’s bathroom. Now.
“He seems to think it’d be an appropriate method of thanks,” Sam murmured, lawyer voice low as he leaned in, long arms flexing under his shirt. Alec gulped. Sam’s head cocked, and a slow, worried smile played at his lips even though his eyes were getting darker. “Though I’m not too sure it wouldn’t…ruin you further.”
“Fu-further,” Alec stammered, trying to laugh off the sudden heat flushing through his system. Sam didn’t buy it. “I, uh, yeah…” He looked at his hands, curled tightly around a soup spoon he wasn’t using, in a lap that really wanted to be used. In more ways than one.
“I am over you,” he said levelly, meeting Sam’s gaze head on. Sam’s eyebrow twitched, and he found himself looking at Dean instead. “I am.” The Winchesters stayed silent, not exactly disbelieving, just waiting. Alec sighed and sat back in his chair.
“And you don’t care that I’m a test-tube baby?” he asked when his vocal chords deigned to work again, eyebrow arching high even though he couldn’t meet either of their eyes anymore. Gaze flitting about the packed diner, he still felt it when they exchanged glances, because when the Winchesters talked without saying a word it was like an electric charge through the air.
“Nope.” Alec’s eyes snapped back, surprised to hear the older Winchester speak. Dean met his startled look evenly, smiling, a curl of something like recognition in his expression. So much like the look on Sam’s face when he’d realized there was something even more familiar than Alec’s face to cling to.
(Damaged.)
“Tell you what,” Sam said, speaking to them both as he leaned back in his chair and draped his arm over the back of Dean’s. “We’ll give it a go-and I’m just promising to try,” Sam added quickly, when hope and eager need surged up in Alec’s chest, “if you get the next guy who walks through that door to go on a date with you.”
They all turned to look, and Alec felt his heart lurch up into his throat. This shouldn’t be so fucking important, or even necessary, but the thought-just the thought-of asking some random stranger to go out suddenly felt like the end of the world. It shouldn’t, but there was a threesome at stake now. Maybe that was why.
The bell above the store-front door jangled, and Sketch pushed the kid through first, laughing and jostling amongst a throng from Jam Pony.
Alec groaned and nearly face-planted in his milkshake.
Everything in him he’d shoved back in his repressive little boxes sat up and purred at the sight of Not-Sam, all gangly limbs and hair just a little lighter and shorter than Sam’s, eyes bright and un-haunted, skin un-weathered and scar-free. It wasn’t that he’d been turned off by the marks of Sam’s life, so…what was it about Not-Sam that made the freshness all the more appealing? Maybe because a part of him had always known there was too much damage in Sam that he’d never be able to fix with his broken pieces. And Sam didn’t have any to spare for him.
“Hey, Alec, mah man!” Sketchy crowed, dragging Not-Sam over in a head lock while he flailed half-heartedly and laughed in the only direction he could (the floor). “Have you met the kid? This is D…hoooooly shit.”
“I will kill you,” Alec growled at Sam, “and all of your children.”
“I swear I didn’t know it’d be him,” the lying bastard choked, laughing as he leaned against Dean, who was trying very hard to hold in a snort and failing.
“You were talking about me?” Not-Sam asked, just a smidgeon on the defensive side, smile slipping a little on his face. Alec was a little sorry he’d missed the initial reaction when he’d seen who Sketch and Herbal had run into-if Herbal was anything to go by, it was pretty damn interesting; the Jamaican was studying the young giant like a new, exotic kind of joint.
“So I, uh, guess you do know Dean,” Sketch fumbled.
“Ever since I was born.” Sam, who’d made the grave mistake of taking a swallow of ice water, simultaneously tried to snort and swallow down the wrong pipe, and Dean had to stifle his own awkward chuckles in his brother’s hair as he smacked him on the back.
“I...don’t get the joke,” Not-Sam said, and now the smile was getting painful for all parties. Sam and Dean turned serious (but not somber) in an instant, even though they stayed close together, Dean’s forehead rolling slightly against the side of Sam’s head and his eyes locked on the duplicate of his brother as he whispered something too low to hear. Alec felt Dean’s legs jerk under the table when Sam gave him a surreptitious pinch.
“He’s Dean.” Alec leveled a finger in Dean’s direction when the silence started to drag, his tone hard and on edge because, oh yeah, so was his dick. He was willing to ignore Sketch and Herbal and the whole entire diner if Dean and Sam spread him out on the table for Not-Sam to play with, and Jesus Christ he did not need to be thinking right now.
“Be nice, bro,” Dean chided a little too loud, punched him on the shoulder across the table. “Of course the guy’s a little freaked; who expects to see himself in a sandwich shop?”
“I really don’t see the resemblance,” Sam shrugged, and Alec tried to kill him with his brain.
“Bro?” Herbal repeated, then laughed to fill the uncomfortable silence. “My brothah not be tellin’ I ‘bout anothah brothah-How be Iself so lost in the island?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, man.” Alec stood and clapped the spandex-ed man on one shoulder, squeezing between Herbal and Sketch so he wouldn’t have to look or be anywhere near Not-Sam for a few seconds longer. “This is my, ah, evil twin, Dean, and his boyfriend, Sam. They’re in town a couple days, just passing through.” He dropped an elbow on Herbal’s shoulder and peered over it at Not-Sam, going for blatantly casual. “Sorry about this morning. Sam and I-”
“-used to date, what, six years ago? Holy shit, has it really been that long?” Sam chuckled softly, voice still a little scratchy from the coughing. Dean hadn’t let his hand fall from Sam’s back, and Alec didn’t think either one of them noticed or cared. “God, I feel old.”
“’Cause you are, Mr. Rubber Ducky,” Alec shot back, aiming a kick that was so effortlessly avoided it was almost embarrassing…and simultaneously sent him stumbling almost into Not-Sam. Great. He quickly righted himself, coughed, gave Not-Sam a manly nod and asked the entire ensemble loudly (with no break in his voice, don’t listen to Sam), “Hey, you guys here for lunch?”
“Well-”
“Y-yeah-"
“Great! Drag over a table. I just got to hit the can.” He fixed the brothers Winchester with a glare he meant from the depths of his damaged soul. “Behave.”
Dean flipped him off. Sam fell back against his chest grinning, and there had never been anything more sickeningly cute in the history of the world, even if Dean tensed a bit. Sam had his hand over Dean’s amulet, thumb tapping out a rhythm that only the two of them knew, but Alec had a pretty decent guess that it meant, Calm the fuck down. This is part of the plan.
So of course, when he turned to leave, he was so distracted he walked smack dab into Not-Sam.
“Shit, fuck, sorry,” he blurted, cursing the day he was put into a test tube because god, the kid smelled like-like sweat and heat and down-home goodness and this close Alec could see the pulse fluttering in the long stretch of skin across his neck, see the curve of his lickable jaw and-
“Hey,” the kid said, letting go of him as fast as he possibly could after steadying him, then flashed a not-quite-solid-grin. “Done enough damage for one day, don’t you think?”
Alec mumbled something indecipherable and fled, skin burning white hot where Dean had touched him. He barely made it into an empty stall before his jeans were around his ankles and his dick was in his hand, hard and aching since Dean/Not-Sam had walked into the diner. It felt like everything about him didn’t fit, and his back hit the stall door and arched like he was trying to climb it, pumping hard into a fist that was too tight and a hand that was too small. The noise he smothered in his mouth was a tangle of two names and three faces, and Sam was right, this wasn’t-couldn’t-work without breaking him more but maybe he needed to be broken.
Of course he ran into Dean the instant he stepped out the door, still sex flushed and reeking of come to someone with a transgenic nose, but maybe just a little pink around the edges to a human. And the kid was just Dean now, somehow, away from the Winchesters. Just Dean. Not some weird combination of the two. It suddenly felt a little easier to breathe.
He tried to move out of the way, and that weird little dance of trying to move the same direction happened right there, in front of the men’s restroom in Persephone’s, both boys shuffling, and mumbling things like, “Did you-?” and, “No, I-” and looking at the floor until Dean stopped, huffed a smiling sigh, and said, “Awkward.”
Alec blinked, caught off guard by the smile, then laughed. He still felt like a live-wire had been dug into his skin, but the laughter seemed to calm the kid down, maybe thaw whatever glacier the two of them had built up just enough that talking didn’t seem a fate worse than death. (Alec was still pretty sure 90% of that iceberg wasn’t his fault, but Max seemed to think he was pretty stupid about those sorts of things so he let it slide.)
“I, uh,” he tried after another half-minute of inching towards silence, “I am sorry about, you know, the-”
“Yeah, look, man, you do not need to explain to me.”
A muscle twitched in Alec’s jaw but he tried not to let it show. He was getting really sick of this kid saying, ‘Look, man.’ And he was really getting sick of how damn defensive he was, hands up like Alec was encroaching on his personal space. “Yeah, but-I hit you."
“Look,” (there he went again,) “if my ex showed up out of the blue and pretended to have never seen me before in her life, my first thought would not be freaky double. I get it, I do. No hard feelings. Now we can just-you know-" Dean made vague shooing motions with his hands. “Yeah.”
“Go back to pretending we don’t know each other?” Alec prompted, surprised to hear the bitter edge in his voice.
“No!” Dean yelped. “No, I just-" The kid floundered, hands open at his sides even though Sam would’ve gone for the back of his neck by now…and it was a really good thing Alec had just jerked off, because for some reason, that was slamming all sorts of buttons he hadn’t even known he’d had. “I can’t exactly be someone you want to see right now. I mean, he’s with your brother. That’s got to be h-tough.”
“Right,” Alec said, ignoring the slip up. Then, “So you completely blocked out this afternoon when we were necking by the lockers?”
“I-I...” Dean stumbled to a stop, and somehow the shade of pink he turned was even more adorable than Sam’s, because his cheeks were just flushed enough for a transgenic to tell. “Uh. Heh. No…”
“Or right now, when you walked in on us all sitting down for lunch?”
“No, of course-” Dean eyes dipped down a second, then back up to Alec’s eyes. “Of course not.”
Alec took a breath and spat it out. “You homophobic?”
Dean’s glance was sharp and curious, intelligent and just a little bit shy. “Would it matter if I was?”
“…Apparently not.” He felt like a balloon someone had just jabbed with a pin, deflating slowly but surely and destined to end up in the gutter or the trash. “Right. So. Food?”
“No, wait, wait.” Dean stopped him with a fleeting touch to his arm and yes, the puppy eyes of doom. It’d been too much to hope that Sam was the only one to use his powers for evil. “I didn’t mean…” Stop. Short huff of breath that smelled like wintermint gum and a morning egg mcmuffin, and Dean pulled him just a little out of the path to the bathroom, next to a fake potted plant shaped like Elvis’s head. “I’m not…homophobic. It’s just-the town I grew up in didn’t…I mean, there weren’t any…so I never…yeah, uh, formed an opinion. I guess. But then I came here and…I got hit on by six different guys in the two blocks from my apartment to Jam Pony. So when you popped up out of nowhere acting all touchy feely-" Alec pulled a face; he had not. “-I just. I overreacted.”
“But I punched you,” Alec pointed out, eyes wide, words slow.
Dean looked at the ceiling like the quickest way out of this conversation was drawn out in a diagram. “Look, m-"
“Alec.”
The kid (and Alec thought maybe he should stop calling him that, but the guy seemed pretty naïve) blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“It’s my name.” He touched his chest, then let his hand swing down, grin wide and just a little fake. “And if you say ‘Look, man’ one more time I’m gonna tie you in a pretzel.” Instead of annoyance or anger, all he got was that flush again, just enough to see. Alec blurted quickly, no real censorship on his brain, “You wouldn’t enjoy it!”
Dean worked his mouth for a second like a fish out of water, and the blush darkened, nearly tripled, before he managed to spit out, “I’m not gay.”
“I never said you were,” Alec protested, hands up. Sam was right-the odds of all four of their sexual preferences being the same on top of everything else? Fucking zero.
“No, I know, but… You. And the older me!” Alec wanted to protest Sam being called ‘older’-it couldn’t be more than a year or two and he’d just lived harder-but kept his mouth shut for the big epiphany. “It’s…awkward.”
As big epiphanies go, it was kind of really lame.
“Awkward?” Alec repeated, his voice a solid, rising deadpan. “More awkward than me punching you in the face?”
“You can’t tell us apart-hell, I can barely tell us apart,” Dean pointed out, suddenly very defensive, “What if next time you aren’t mad at Sam and just-"
“Dude. I have absolutely no trouble telling you apart now that I know there are two of you.” Alec shoved aside the mental image of letting himself be blindfolded for a little game of Guess Who between the Sams…but it was hard. “And, hello. EX.”
He suddenly had to swallow against his serial number, and he wasn’t sure why.
Dean just looked at him. “Did you completely block out the make out session by the lockers?”
Alec scrubbed a hand over his face and fought against the urge to pull out his hair. “Sam and Dean are only in town a short time,” he forced out, voice quiet and slow. “Sam and I haven’t seen each other in six years.” He had no idea why he was telling him this (especially the part that came next), except that he had instincts, and his instincts said lay it all out for the boy. “Sam loved Dean even when we were together, but they just recently…worked things out on their end. And now he just…wants to make sure I’m okay with what they’ve started.” Alec pulled a fake smile and jerked his own hand away from the back of his neck, letting it fall to his side with a slap of skin on leather and fuck, that was not what he needed right now.
Dean’s eyes were narrowed, searching without being suspicious as he asked, carefully, confused, “…Why wouldn’t you be okay?”
“Because I’m damaged.” It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, so the answer he gave was real. Alec tried to hide it in a laugh that was too late, too soft to do much of anything at all.
“So,” he added loudly, like they were talking about something completely different, “if you’re worried about me molesting you or something, uh, don’t worry about it. I really can tell.”
“Uh huh,” Dean said, about as convinced as if Alec had told him he saw dead people.
“Bitch, I can.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “O-kay.” Dean shifted, suddenly shy, stuffing his hands in his pockets and studying the floor.
“So, yeah, we can-”
“Yeah, I mean, if we-you know.” There was that shooing motion again-Dean’s shoulders stiff and shuffling back like he’d been leaning in (which he hadn’t…Alec was pretty sure)-like all he wanted to do was move on with his Alec-less life and forget this ever happened. Alec’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown, but he started to nod automatically…except then Sam would veto the threesome. Fuck. Fuck.
It wasn’t just the sex (even though he really, really wanted the sex); Sam wouldn’t move on, not entirely. He’d let this nag at him, maybe not all the time, but enough to bother Dean (the real first Dean), and…damn it, Alec couldn’t handle being a complication between those two. So he had to show Sam he was fine, or fine enough, and then there’d be sex, and Alec could live life a little more torn while they went off and had adventures with the supernatural.
“Fuck, wait,” Alec blurted, pulling Dean back and ignoring the flare of heat in his belly when his hand landed on the thin, soft skin of Dean’s arm. The taller man pulled away with absolutely no emotion when Alec held on a second too long-touchy feely, goddamn it. All Alec really wanted to do was rub off on him; that wasn’t too personal, was it?
“Yeah?” Dean asked, still waiting for a sign that Alec wasn’t on something.
“Could you-" He huffed out a sigh and did not rub the back of his neck. “Could you maybe stay for lunch?”
“Um…” Dean hummed and looked back at the semi-one-sided conversation going on inside. Herbal was talking with his hands, Sketch jumping in to translate while the boys (Sam’n’Dean) watched with avid concentration, a thin knot of concern settling on their foreheads. Alec knew that look on Sam used to mean running off to the library to do research, but now? “You know, I think I better go.”
Alec blinked, snapped back to their conversation, and instantly felt like someone had killed his puppy. “Oh… Yeah?”
“Yeah…” Dean’s hazel eyes (just a little browner than Sam’s) studied him quietly for a second, then his shoulders shrugged up to an embarrassed half-smile. “It’s just-I’ve done the replacement thing, and...trust me, it’s not worth the divorce papers.”
“I’m-” Alec’s jaw worked open, closed. “Divorce papers?”
“Yeah, I’m…” Dean laughed quietly, still forcing a smile as thin as issue paper, wrinkle between his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe he was telling Alec this. “Yeah. It…turned me into a lot of things I wish I couldn’t say about myself. You know, divorced. Ex-husband. Adulterer. So I really think it’d be best for both of us if I didn’t…tempt you, or whatever.”
“I don’t do replacements,” Alec choked out, voice catching on the words, Too late. He knew his expression was a little disdainful, maybe, but he couldn’t do much to change that. “I mean, I get it. You’re not gay. But even if I did want that from you…I’m a twin, man.” True enough, though no twin of Dean Winchester’s. “I think I understand better than anyone that looking like somebody doesn’t mean you’re anything like them.” Because if that was true he’d be out killing people for their teeth, and ick.
“I have your brother’s name and your ex’s face,” Dean said pointedly, like Alec was very slow in the head.
“Yeah. And?” Alec shrugged dramatically, eyes wide, shifting, and incredulous. Acting was part of his training; he could lie easy as breathing. Most of the time. “Look, could you-just let me buy you lunch. Please. To make up for punching you.”
“Dean.”
Alec blinked. “Huh?”
“Dean. It’s my name?” he mocked, grinning, and Alec felt something in him lift and expand, like he’d been waiting for years to hear it. “And, hey, didn’t even leave a mark.” Dean touched his jaw tenderly where, yeah, there was a thin shadow of bruising.
“Okay, Dean,” Alec said, spreading his hands with a grin, “Don’t be a bitch.” He leapt up, caught Dean in a headlock and dragged him to the table half bent over, stumbling and laughing and ruffling his hair, demanding, “This the only way to get you to the table, Mr. Kid?”
Sam’s eyes were half-lidded while he looked the two of them over, approvingly, an undecipherable smile tugging at his lips when he turned his attention back to Herbal. The Jamaican waved him off, deciding they were done with whatever they’d been talking about. And Dean (DeanDeanDean) didn’t miss a beat sliding across Sam to tug at Alec’s jacket.
“Been gone a long time,” he stated with a green-eyed look that Alec immediately understood as an order not to act so surprised. Dean was acting the only way he knew how with a brother, and that meant subtle touches and conversations without words.
“Uh, yeah!” Alec confirmed, pulling out a chair for Not-Sam without thinking about it.
“You guys ordered already? I want the tuna melt.”
“Of course you do,” Sam laughed.
“Shut up, rubber ducky,” Alec growled, kicking at him under the table.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
“Give you ten bucks,” Dean said, draping an elbow over Sam’s shoulder as he leaned towards Alec across the table.
“Uh, no, no…” Sam was suddenly on his feet, reaching for his wallet. “We really have to run, Dean, we have that thing-"
“The thing can wait.” Dean bared his teeth in a teasingly feral smile at his brother, then hooked his fingers in his beltloops to keep Sam there. “I want to hear this.”
“Well, I and I be needin’ to blaze by the third sector before d’ sun chimes three,” Herbal announced, sliding on back in his chair and sending Sketch to twitching, trying to swipe Dean’s fries without loosing a finger. Or a hand. “Be seein’ you, Winchestah.” He gave a significant nod to Sam, and one to, “Brothah Dean,” slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Wait, don’t you want to show us that, uh-thing?” Sam pleaded, and Not-Sam laughed a little, like he thought Sam was making up things to distract from the rubber ducky (which was only partially true, as far as Alec could tell).
“Five by the sun, at the place where I reside.” Herbal pointed to the paint-chipped ceiling, grabbed Sketch by the scruff of the neck just as Dean started to go for his knife, and dragged him out the door even though Sketch was crying, “Come on, man, have you tried these fries?”
“Dean,” Sam growled. (Only the wrong Dean twitched.) “We have to get stuff.”
It seemed to strike some sort of chord, but Dean turned pleading eyes on Alec and upped his bid. “Twenty bucks.”
“No, Dean, come on.” Only Sam could glare that hard and smile at the same time, hips cocked slightly as he pulled against the strain on his beltloops until Dean sighed and let go. “I’m really sorry,” Sam said as Dean dug out a couple dollar bills and threw them on the table, eyes kind but kind of evil as he glanced between the two of them left at the table. “We thought we’d have more time, but Herbal’s got a job for us-”
“Kind of a time-sensitive thing,” Dean filled in, standing so he was shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Sam lit up a little when their arms touched, and the bastard didn’t even realize it.
“Oh yeah?” Not-Sam asked, almost too abruptly because Alec wasn’t the only one who knew what this looked like. “What kind of work do you do?”
“Exterminators.” Dean flashed a smile that was almost over before it began, and Sam and Alec mirrored it exactly. “Okay, kids, have fun!” Dean waved as he took off, and Alec did not watch his ass when he left.
“I’ll let him fuck you if you keep quiet about the rubber ducky,” Sam whispered, so quiet it was barely audible, lips brushing the shell of Alec’s ear. He was gone before Alec could pull himself together enough to breathe without coming in his pants, but the transgenic knew he was laughing when he caught up to Dean.
When Alec uncrossed his eyes (and re-crossed his legs) enough to see straight, Not-Sam was giving him a look, lips just a little bit pinched in the corners and one eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah,” he drawled, “You’re totally over him.”
“Shut up,” Alec growled as playfully as he could manage, and cuffed Dean over the head with their one ratty menu. “You’re totally jealous.”
“No, I’m really not.” Dean laughed like Sam laughed, grinning wide and happy and loud, but when Sam laughed you knew it would be over and gone in the blink of an eye. Dean could laugh and linger, and it was really stupid that Alec knew that already. “If I had to watch my ex date my twin, I would probably shoot myself in the head.”
“You aren’t freaking out, are you?” Alec asked quietly, leaning back just a little in his chair. “I didn’t-I mean, they weren’t supposed to leave. This isn’t some gay conspiracy to get you off the straight and, uh, narrow.”
“Oh my god I didn’t even think about that,” Dean gaped, then laughed again when Alec took him seriously.
“Fucker!”
“You aren’t that smart.”
“You have no idea how smart I am,” Alec said, slow and dark, and something flared low in his belly when he saw that barely-there flush again.
“So.” Dean coughed and folded his huge hands on their table. “I want to hear about this rubber ducky thing. I swear I’ll take it to my grave.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Alec swore emphatically, maybe a little more than was necessary. Sam had ears fucking everywhere.
“Oh come on,” Dean laughed, and swiped Alec’s milkshake when he shook his head.
“Hey!”
“I told you about my divorce!”
“Yeah, you said you had one, not a damn thing about why.” Alec sat back when he realized it was true, and what’s more, he was actually curious. “The hell I’m giving up the secret of the rubber ducky-" (and being fucked by a rough and tumble version of himself) “-for anything less than the full story. Come on,” he coaxed, then snagged back his milkshake in the blink of an eye just to take a slurp while Dean gaped at him. “Trot out the details, S-Dean.”
He was cursing himself before he even tripped over the name, because he knew he was going to fuck it up. Things had been going entirely too well in Alecville the past five minutes, something had to.
The only sign Dean gave that let on he’d heard was a brief drop of his eyelashes, but Alec didn’t start breathing again until after the tall man ducked his head and chuckled quietly, “Yeah, well, the details are…I wasn’t the one she wanted. And then I was, but I couldn’t be. Not that that stopped either of us.”
Like nothing had even happened.
So why did Alec feel like he’d walked into the bullet instead of dodging it?
“I feel like we should be in a bar, not a sandwich shop,” he joked softly, which Alec knew was his was of acknowledging that he really needed a beer.
With a nearly painful jolt, Alec realized…Dean was hurt, but he wasn’t broken. He’d get better, and he knew it, didn’t have a shadow of a doubt that it could happen any other way.
Alec spun the milkshake in his direction with suddenly shaky hands. “Join the club.”
PART THREE! omg there's a part three O.O *headdesk*