fic: Vegas Kimon (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 4 of 5
Back to Part 3
~~**~~
Dean drove them through the dark desert night back towards the glow of Vegas on the horizon and all he could think about was those months after he’d killed Amy Pond and lied to Sam. How Sam had left him on that dock, and Dean had never forgiven himself for that lie, necessary as he’d thought it was back then. He wouldn’t do that now, hopefully Sam knew that.
Into the soft darkness between them it felt like there was an opening to address it. Especially after they’d just saved each other in their usual spectacular fashion. “I’m sorry you had to do that tonight, I should have…taken care of it, uh, back then.”
“Dude, it’s what had to happen, I wasn’t letting him get another chance to kill you.”
“It’s all my fault, Sammy. If I’d just let her go like I should have, instead of killing her right in front of her kid, then he’d never have…and all that lying to you afterwards.”
“You’re still stuck on that? I forgave you, don’t you remember? You were right to take care of killing Amy back then, I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself. I forgave you for lying to me too, I wasn’t happy about it, of course, but I forgave you, remember?”
“But now you had to kill her kid, and I’m just sorry I brought all of this down on us,” Dean said.
“I’ll get over it, it had to be done. He was making you do stuff, tell him things you didn’t want to, who knows what else he was going to do to you? It kind of cancels out the guilt I probably should be feeling right now.”
They drove the rest of the way in a silence that felt more comfortable to Dean, the guilt flavor was gone now, replaced with the hopefulness that Sam’s forgiveness always brought him.
On the way up to their room, Sam met his eyes in the mirrored wall of the elevator. “So, what’s the whole truth Jacob was talking about?”
Dean could feel the answer writing itself all over his face, and watched Sam’s eyes widen in surprise as he read the words he left unsaid. He couldn’t-he absolutely could not do this in public, just in case Sam reacted badly when he heard the whole thing. So he shook his head, refusing to answer until they were back in their room.
Sam shrugged and got this little closed-mouth smile his eyes crinkling a little at the corner, but he didn’t laugh, thank god.
Once the door was closed and locked behind them, and they both had beers from the mini-bar and were lounging in the pool, he’d worked out the words, what it was that he felt he had to say about the whole thing. After all, he knew that he was likely only going to get the one chance at this. So he knew he had to say it clearly, so Sam couldn’t misinterpret anything important, and then, once all his cards were laid out, it would be up to Sam to decide. That seemed to be the fairest way to do this, to take this risk to change every damn thing between them, maybe ruin them for good.
Sam finished his beer first and started swimming slowly doing laps back and forth. He hissed as the water hit the shallow slashes Jacob had left on his torso. Dean marveled at how beautiful his brother looked slicing through the water, his face relaxed and serene. He wished on everything holy and unholy in the world that Sam would take this conversation well. But he just didn’t know how it was going to go.
Sam finally stopped, sitting up on the step next to Dean, panting a little at his exertion.
“Maybe we need to put one of these lap pools in for you back home,” Dean said, tipping his beer back all the way to get the last drops. He noticed Sam watching him intently, how his brother followed the movements of his throat, and licked his own lips.
“Sammy, you know what you asked me in the elevator?”
“About what Jacob said, the whole truth thing and whether you would tell me?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, that,” Dean said, taking a deep breath so that he could get the words out.
“I’d like to hear it, if you want to-I mean, if you can tell me,” Sam said.
“He used some kind of kitsune hypnosis thing on me, like a truth serum almost. And he got me to tell him about you and me, and how I feel about you. He found out how to get in my mind, he dug in real deep. He made me tell him my main truth, that you are my everything.”
Sam just stared at him for what seemed like the longest minute in the whole damn world. He swallowed, almost a gulp and looked suspicious or maybe nervous. “Your everything?”
“Yeah, I just spilled the whole story to him, our lives, what we’ve done for each other, the whole damn thing. It was goddamn horrifying hearing all of it from end to end. It’s a lot when you say it all at once.”
“I can imagine, Lucifer used to make me do that too. He thought it was hilarious, how pointless it had all been.”
“Pointless?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, since I’d ended up locked up with him. He really just didn’t get it though.”
“Get what?” Dean asked.
“How that was the point-of my whole life. I chose to fall into that hole with him to save you. Just like you sold your soul. It’s what we do for each other. No one else ever understands it though.”
Dean kicked a little in the water, feeling even more nervous. “Just you and me.”
Sam looked over at him, eyes flashing with hopefulness. “Yeah, just you and me.” Sam dove back in the water and stayed on the bottom for a long time. Dean could see that he was talking or maybe screaming. He ducked his head underwater and heard his name vaguely through the water. He swam down to where Sam was and pulled him up to the surface, Sam twined their legs together and held on tightly.
“This is how we used to swim in all those motel pools, remember?” Dean asked as they floated together, briefly flashing back on the memory of feeling like some sort of sea mammal toting his baby around, keeping him safe until he’d learned to swim all on his own.
“It’s not like that though,” Sam said. “Not anymore, right?” Again with that hopeful look making him even more beautiful than usual. Sam’s arms and legs seemed to tighten around him, holding him closer than a barnacle on a ship hull.
Just as he was about to get irritated with the clinginess that wasn’t going to go anywhere or amount to anything at all satisfying, Dean realized with a flash that Sam was holding on so tightly because he thought Dean was going to run away again. Like he had yesterday.
He decided it was now or never to surprise his brother. He tightened his own arms and legs around Sam, and plunged them back down into the water, pressing Sam’s back against the glass bottom of the pool, all of the lights of Vegas reflecting around his head like a corona in a medieval painting, he was stunned at how beautiful he was all over again. He couldn’t help himself, he mouthed the three little words he’d always wanted to say to Sam. Then he actually said them, feeling them move past his lips and out into the water, his whole heart flowing out with them.
Sam must have understood because he surged up, crashing his lips into Dean’s and pushing them up to the surface. He was tall enough to stand in the pool, so Dean held on, wrapping his legs around Sam’s slim hips. He was shocked (really he was) that Sam seemed to be as into this as he was, he was just as hard if not harder. Sam was growling and kissing him so intensely he could barely breathe. He let Sam attack his mouth, his neck, his ears and tried to give back just as much.
They didn’t need to say anything, they knew. They’d always known, all the tells had always been there, they couldn’t ever really hide them from each other even though they’d tried their best. Sam had always known he’d throw scissors, he knew that Dean had always given him the choice to win or lose in every game. Now he was finally choosing what they both wanted, what they both needed.
“Want you, Dean-want to see you,” Sam panted, holding Dean’s face between his giant hands.
“I’m right here, Sammy, you got me,” Dean said as he felt Sam pulling their swim trunks down. Sam’s hand wrapped around both of them, pumping slow and steady, with a little twist at the top. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop himself as he thrusted into Sam’s hand, instantly loving the perfect friction, the flex of Sam’s abs against the very tip of him, the softness of Sam’s hard cock moving against his own.
He wanted to feel it too, so he wrapped his own hand around them, covering the rest of their lengths so that he felt it when Sam released in-between them, his name one drawn out moan of pleasure coming out of Sam like the Bellagio fountain down the street. The water surged and churned as Sam hoisted him out of the pool setting him up on the edge, and Sam’s mouth, oh god, his mouth, shockingly hot compared to the pool, and the suction, oh god the perfect suction.
“Shit, Sam, I can’t, I’m gonna…” and he did, he let himself give it all to Sam.
But Sam stopped just before, just before he went over that edge, the fucker. His eyes were wild and dark, his whole face carved into a mask of lust and desire. “Give it to me Dean, please. I want it all.”
Dean groaned and held onto Sam’s wet mess of hair, curled his hands around the curve of Sam’s precious head and thrust up into the warm cavern of his mouth, once, twice, and then it was all over and done.
Sam swallowed it all because he’d asked for it, and then whooped with joy, pulling Dean back into the water with him, wriggling through the water like a goddamn otter or something. Dean came up spluttering and still clinging to Sam’s shoulders. “What are you Aquaman or something?”
Afterwards, just before they fell asleep in one of the beds, just as intertwined as they’d been in the pool, Dean felt the weight of the happiness he’d never had fill him in the spaces deep inside where he’d always pretended he was full enough. He didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“You still want to do the tournament tomorrow?” Sam asked.
“Hell yes, you’re not getting out of it that easily. We paid, we’re playing,” Dean said, slipping off into sleep, planning for their day, competing in the tournament, winning, going out to celebrate, or coming back here to…” It made for a pretty nice dream.
***
It went, pretty much just as one would imagine, if one knew anything about playing rock-paper-scissors. Since they’d missed the pre-party yesterday, Dean felt like he had a slight advantage, because he was a complete mystery man to all the other competitors that had spent time and mental energy evaluating each other. That and he was flying high from finally feeling free to be himself with Sam at his side-well to be Les with Andrew at his side for the moment.
That reminded him to get back into character, as he pulled back on the mask of Les Braunstein, Dean felt like he could hide in it a bit, but it was his choice this time, his strategy, and he knew he was damn good at it. When he stood there in front of the crowd facing Sam, he leaned in to kiss him, slow and deliberate, filling up on the real feeling, all the while hearing the whoops and whistles of the people watching them. They didn’t know it, but he was really doing this, for real this time, not pretend.
“Kiss me like you mean it, Sammy,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.
Sam grabbed him and dipped him backwards almost to the floor in the most ridiculous swooning dip, like he was his tiny bride at the altar. And Dean kissed him back like that, because it was-like that. God. How was he supposed to get it together enough to win this with Sam doing that to him?
Sam set them back up straight and grinned at him across the line of play. The crowd settled down a bit after hooting their last comments of ‘Get a Room!’
“You two finally ready or what?” The judge asked.
“Yes, sir, that we are,” Sam said, winking at Dean.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” Dean said.
“Best two out of three, as you know we’re playing by continental rules, and go!” The judge yelled.
Dean threw paper to Sam’s rock, and Dean knew he was going to win, but kept his pokerface as serious-business as he possibly could. He wouldn’t look Sam directly in the eyes, which were no doubt on the epic end of puppy-dog pleading.
Sam frowned and grumbled a little to himself, and they both re-set.
Dean threw paper again, and Sam again threw rock. The crowd burst into applause before Dean could realize he’d won. He’d actually let himself beat Sam, which was all of a sudden a much bigger deal than he’d realized. It seemed so selfish, the ultimate un-brotherly act, and maybe that was okay now that things were changing between them.
Sam grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up with a whoop and a giant smile.
Dean shook his fist in triumph towards the crowd and slid down his brother’s body, giving him a big wet kiss on the way down.
They sat next to each other in the competitor waiting area, it would be a few minutes until it came to Dean’s turn in the second round. Dean couldn’t believe how good it felt to sit there with Sam’s arm casually draped around his shoulders. It was surprising how it felt so right to be tucked-up close with Sam, even in public.
“I knew you’d let me win,” Dean said. “You made it too easy.”
“I did not let you win,” Sam said, puffing up like an indignant house-cat. “I just guessed wrong. You won it, fair and square, I promise.”
“If you say so,” Dean said with a shrug, still not really believing him.
Sam pulled him in even closer and whispered in his ear, Dean shivered, wondering if he’d ever get used to the feeling of Sam’s soft lips brushing his ear. “You’re going to win. You’ve got this in the bag.”
There were a few more rounds to go, Dean competed and beat three more tournament contestants, two of them big names that he recognized from his research. But Sam was right, he did have this in the bag.
After a few hours, it was finally time for the finals, it was just down to Dean and a Korean teenager that reminded him vaguely of Kevin but the dude had even more intensity. He was really hard to read at first, but then Dean noticed a slight pinkie finger twitch in his throwing hand, barely a visible movement, but he saw it happen in the first two rounds which they tied. It came down to the final final round, he saw the boy’s twitch and switched his own decision at the last possible millisecond accordingly. He threw scissors for the win. And somehow that was just perfect, after a lifetime of throwing scissors, letting Sam win, it had finally worked to his advantage to win for once. Maybe since he’d done it so many times he’d managed to erase any of his own tells.
The teenager shook his hand in grudging congratulations and the referee lifted Dean’s non-throwing hand into the air, proclaiming Les Braunstein the winner of this year’s Rock-Paper-Scissors International Tournament. Sam’s joyous whooping was all he could hear, the rest of the crowd kind of faded away. Sam lifted him up again, and for a second he thought he was going to actually hoist him up on his shoulder. The Sasquatch probably really could do it, but he didn’t, thank god for small favors, he just held Dean tight, smiling as wide and happy as Dean had seen him in so many years it wasn’t even a bit funny.
Dean found his footing again once Sam let him down, still holding an arm around his waist like it was no big deal (because it wasn’t) while Dean accepted a giant paper check for the award money. The organizers of the tournament all shook his hand, and most importantly: one of them handed Dean the actual normal-sized check that he could cash for real, and wasn’t that going to be the start of a nice little nest egg for them.
~~**~~
To Part 5
~~**~~
Dean drove them through the dark desert night back towards the glow of Vegas on the horizon and all he could think about was those months after he’d killed Amy Pond and lied to Sam. How Sam had left him on that dock, and Dean had never forgiven himself for that lie, necessary as he’d thought it was back then. He wouldn’t do that now, hopefully Sam knew that.
Into the soft darkness between them it felt like there was an opening to address it. Especially after they’d just saved each other in their usual spectacular fashion. “I’m sorry you had to do that tonight, I should have…taken care of it, uh, back then.”
“Dude, it’s what had to happen, I wasn’t letting him get another chance to kill you.”
“It’s all my fault, Sammy. If I’d just let her go like I should have, instead of killing her right in front of her kid, then he’d never have…and all that lying to you afterwards.”
“You’re still stuck on that? I forgave you, don’t you remember? You were right to take care of killing Amy back then, I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself. I forgave you for lying to me too, I wasn’t happy about it, of course, but I forgave you, remember?”
“But now you had to kill her kid, and I’m just sorry I brought all of this down on us,” Dean said.
“I’ll get over it, it had to be done. He was making you do stuff, tell him things you didn’t want to, who knows what else he was going to do to you? It kind of cancels out the guilt I probably should be feeling right now.”
They drove the rest of the way in a silence that felt more comfortable to Dean, the guilt flavor was gone now, replaced with the hopefulness that Sam’s forgiveness always brought him.
On the way up to their room, Sam met his eyes in the mirrored wall of the elevator. “So, what’s the whole truth Jacob was talking about?”
Dean could feel the answer writing itself all over his face, and watched Sam’s eyes widen in surprise as he read the words he left unsaid. He couldn’t-he absolutely could not do this in public, just in case Sam reacted badly when he heard the whole thing. So he shook his head, refusing to answer until they were back in their room.
Sam shrugged and got this little closed-mouth smile his eyes crinkling a little at the corner, but he didn’t laugh, thank god.
Once the door was closed and locked behind them, and they both had beers from the mini-bar and were lounging in the pool, he’d worked out the words, what it was that he felt he had to say about the whole thing. After all, he knew that he was likely only going to get the one chance at this. So he knew he had to say it clearly, so Sam couldn’t misinterpret anything important, and then, once all his cards were laid out, it would be up to Sam to decide. That seemed to be the fairest way to do this, to take this risk to change every damn thing between them, maybe ruin them for good.
Sam finished his beer first and started swimming slowly doing laps back and forth. He hissed as the water hit the shallow slashes Jacob had left on his torso. Dean marveled at how beautiful his brother looked slicing through the water, his face relaxed and serene. He wished on everything holy and unholy in the world that Sam would take this conversation well. But he just didn’t know how it was going to go.
Sam finally stopped, sitting up on the step next to Dean, panting a little at his exertion.
“Maybe we need to put one of these lap pools in for you back home,” Dean said, tipping his beer back all the way to get the last drops. He noticed Sam watching him intently, how his brother followed the movements of his throat, and licked his own lips.
“Sammy, you know what you asked me in the elevator?”
“About what Jacob said, the whole truth thing and whether you would tell me?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, that,” Dean said, taking a deep breath so that he could get the words out.
“I’d like to hear it, if you want to-I mean, if you can tell me,” Sam said.
“He used some kind of kitsune hypnosis thing on me, like a truth serum almost. And he got me to tell him about you and me, and how I feel about you. He found out how to get in my mind, he dug in real deep. He made me tell him my main truth, that you are my everything.”
Sam just stared at him for what seemed like the longest minute in the whole damn world. He swallowed, almost a gulp and looked suspicious or maybe nervous. “Your everything?”
“Yeah, I just spilled the whole story to him, our lives, what we’ve done for each other, the whole damn thing. It was goddamn horrifying hearing all of it from end to end. It’s a lot when you say it all at once.”
“I can imagine, Lucifer used to make me do that too. He thought it was hilarious, how pointless it had all been.”
“Pointless?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, since I’d ended up locked up with him. He really just didn’t get it though.”
“Get what?” Dean asked.
“How that was the point-of my whole life. I chose to fall into that hole with him to save you. Just like you sold your soul. It’s what we do for each other. No one else ever understands it though.”
Dean kicked a little in the water, feeling even more nervous. “Just you and me.”
Sam looked over at him, eyes flashing with hopefulness. “Yeah, just you and me.” Sam dove back in the water and stayed on the bottom for a long time. Dean could see that he was talking or maybe screaming. He ducked his head underwater and heard his name vaguely through the water. He swam down to where Sam was and pulled him up to the surface, Sam twined their legs together and held on tightly.
“This is how we used to swim in all those motel pools, remember?” Dean asked as they floated together, briefly flashing back on the memory of feeling like some sort of sea mammal toting his baby around, keeping him safe until he’d learned to swim all on his own.
“It’s not like that though,” Sam said. “Not anymore, right?” Again with that hopeful look making him even more beautiful than usual. Sam’s arms and legs seemed to tighten around him, holding him closer than a barnacle on a ship hull.
Just as he was about to get irritated with the clinginess that wasn’t going to go anywhere or amount to anything at all satisfying, Dean realized with a flash that Sam was holding on so tightly because he thought Dean was going to run away again. Like he had yesterday.
He decided it was now or never to surprise his brother. He tightened his own arms and legs around Sam, and plunged them back down into the water, pressing Sam’s back against the glass bottom of the pool, all of the lights of Vegas reflecting around his head like a corona in a medieval painting, he was stunned at how beautiful he was all over again. He couldn’t help himself, he mouthed the three little words he’d always wanted to say to Sam. Then he actually said them, feeling them move past his lips and out into the water, his whole heart flowing out with them.
Sam must have understood because he surged up, crashing his lips into Dean’s and pushing them up to the surface. He was tall enough to stand in the pool, so Dean held on, wrapping his legs around Sam’s slim hips. He was shocked (really he was) that Sam seemed to be as into this as he was, he was just as hard if not harder. Sam was growling and kissing him so intensely he could barely breathe. He let Sam attack his mouth, his neck, his ears and tried to give back just as much.
They didn’t need to say anything, they knew. They’d always known, all the tells had always been there, they couldn’t ever really hide them from each other even though they’d tried their best. Sam had always known he’d throw scissors, he knew that Dean had always given him the choice to win or lose in every game. Now he was finally choosing what they both wanted, what they both needed.
“Want you, Dean-want to see you,” Sam panted, holding Dean’s face between his giant hands.
“I’m right here, Sammy, you got me,” Dean said as he felt Sam pulling their swim trunks down. Sam’s hand wrapped around both of them, pumping slow and steady, with a little twist at the top. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop himself as he thrusted into Sam’s hand, instantly loving the perfect friction, the flex of Sam’s abs against the very tip of him, the softness of Sam’s hard cock moving against his own.
He wanted to feel it too, so he wrapped his own hand around them, covering the rest of their lengths so that he felt it when Sam released in-between them, his name one drawn out moan of pleasure coming out of Sam like the Bellagio fountain down the street. The water surged and churned as Sam hoisted him out of the pool setting him up on the edge, and Sam’s mouth, oh god, his mouth, shockingly hot compared to the pool, and the suction, oh god the perfect suction.
“Shit, Sam, I can’t, I’m gonna…” and he did, he let himself give it all to Sam.
But Sam stopped just before, just before he went over that edge, the fucker. His eyes were wild and dark, his whole face carved into a mask of lust and desire. “Give it to me Dean, please. I want it all.”
Dean groaned and held onto Sam’s wet mess of hair, curled his hands around the curve of Sam’s precious head and thrust up into the warm cavern of his mouth, once, twice, and then it was all over and done.
Sam swallowed it all because he’d asked for it, and then whooped with joy, pulling Dean back into the water with him, wriggling through the water like a goddamn otter or something. Dean came up spluttering and still clinging to Sam’s shoulders. “What are you Aquaman or something?”
Afterwards, just before they fell asleep in one of the beds, just as intertwined as they’d been in the pool, Dean felt the weight of the happiness he’d never had fill him in the spaces deep inside where he’d always pretended he was full enough. He didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“You still want to do the tournament tomorrow?” Sam asked.
“Hell yes, you’re not getting out of it that easily. We paid, we’re playing,” Dean said, slipping off into sleep, planning for their day, competing in the tournament, winning, going out to celebrate, or coming back here to…” It made for a pretty nice dream.
***
It went, pretty much just as one would imagine, if one knew anything about playing rock-paper-scissors. Since they’d missed the pre-party yesterday, Dean felt like he had a slight advantage, because he was a complete mystery man to all the other competitors that had spent time and mental energy evaluating each other. That and he was flying high from finally feeling free to be himself with Sam at his side-well to be Les with Andrew at his side for the moment.
That reminded him to get back into character, as he pulled back on the mask of Les Braunstein, Dean felt like he could hide in it a bit, but it was his choice this time, his strategy, and he knew he was damn good at it. When he stood there in front of the crowd facing Sam, he leaned in to kiss him, slow and deliberate, filling up on the real feeling, all the while hearing the whoops and whistles of the people watching them. They didn’t know it, but he was really doing this, for real this time, not pretend.
“Kiss me like you mean it, Sammy,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.
Sam grabbed him and dipped him backwards almost to the floor in the most ridiculous swooning dip, like he was his tiny bride at the altar. And Dean kissed him back like that, because it was-like that. God. How was he supposed to get it together enough to win this with Sam doing that to him?
Sam set them back up straight and grinned at him across the line of play. The crowd settled down a bit after hooting their last comments of ‘Get a Room!’
“You two finally ready or what?” The judge asked.
“Yes, sir, that we are,” Sam said, winking at Dean.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” Dean said.
“Best two out of three, as you know we’re playing by continental rules, and go!” The judge yelled.
Dean threw paper to Sam’s rock, and Dean knew he was going to win, but kept his pokerface as serious-business as he possibly could. He wouldn’t look Sam directly in the eyes, which were no doubt on the epic end of puppy-dog pleading.
Sam frowned and grumbled a little to himself, and they both re-set.
Dean threw paper again, and Sam again threw rock. The crowd burst into applause before Dean could realize he’d won. He’d actually let himself beat Sam, which was all of a sudden a much bigger deal than he’d realized. It seemed so selfish, the ultimate un-brotherly act, and maybe that was okay now that things were changing between them.
Sam grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up with a whoop and a giant smile.
Dean shook his fist in triumph towards the crowd and slid down his brother’s body, giving him a big wet kiss on the way down.
They sat next to each other in the competitor waiting area, it would be a few minutes until it came to Dean’s turn in the second round. Dean couldn’t believe how good it felt to sit there with Sam’s arm casually draped around his shoulders. It was surprising how it felt so right to be tucked-up close with Sam, even in public.
“I knew you’d let me win,” Dean said. “You made it too easy.”
“I did not let you win,” Sam said, puffing up like an indignant house-cat. “I just guessed wrong. You won it, fair and square, I promise.”
“If you say so,” Dean said with a shrug, still not really believing him.
Sam pulled him in even closer and whispered in his ear, Dean shivered, wondering if he’d ever get used to the feeling of Sam’s soft lips brushing his ear. “You’re going to win. You’ve got this in the bag.”
There were a few more rounds to go, Dean competed and beat three more tournament contestants, two of them big names that he recognized from his research. But Sam was right, he did have this in the bag.
After a few hours, it was finally time for the finals, it was just down to Dean and a Korean teenager that reminded him vaguely of Kevin but the dude had even more intensity. He was really hard to read at first, but then Dean noticed a slight pinkie finger twitch in his throwing hand, barely a visible movement, but he saw it happen in the first two rounds which they tied. It came down to the final final round, he saw the boy’s twitch and switched his own decision at the last possible millisecond accordingly. He threw scissors for the win. And somehow that was just perfect, after a lifetime of throwing scissors, letting Sam win, it had finally worked to his advantage to win for once. Maybe since he’d done it so many times he’d managed to erase any of his own tells.
The teenager shook his hand in grudging congratulations and the referee lifted Dean’s non-throwing hand into the air, proclaiming Les Braunstein the winner of this year’s Rock-Paper-Scissors International Tournament. Sam’s joyous whooping was all he could hear, the rest of the crowd kind of faded away. Sam lifted him up again, and for a second he thought he was going to actually hoist him up on his shoulder. The Sasquatch probably really could do it, but he didn’t, thank god for small favors, he just held Dean tight, smiling as wide and happy as Dean had seen him in so many years it wasn’t even a bit funny.
Dean found his footing again once Sam let him down, still holding an arm around his waist like it was no big deal (because it wasn’t) while Dean accepted a giant paper check for the award money. The organizers of the tournament all shook his hand, and most importantly: one of them handed Dean the actual normal-sized check that he could cash for real, and wasn’t that going to be the start of a nice little nest egg for them.
~~**~~
To Part 5