Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just a fan.
Salt and Bandages (April 08)
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: First time, incest, violence, sexual violence
Authors note.
Set in Season three.
I wrote this before I saw a certain s03 episode, guess sometimes great minds do think alike, or similar at any rate.
Driving along, or rather being driven, God forbid that he should actually be allowed behind the wheel this morning, Sam slid down on the bench seat of the Impala. Fuming, with arms angrily crossed over his chest, he stared out of the side window, his silence loud in the confines of the car. It had happened again! Another town, another motel and another, 'will that be just the one bed,' query.
He was tiring of Dean's comments which were usually about him and the bastard was still smirking this morning! The only reason he could not hear him laughing now was the cranked up music and for once he could not be bothered to complain about songs that were older than he was.
Just what was it about them? Why was this happening more and more often? The first couple of times they had been mistaken as a 'couple' he had been annoyed and defensive, but then he began to find it funny often playing along but now it was getting ridiculous. And what's more Dean was being no help at all. In fact he was making it worse. Dean was obviously finding the misconception hilarious as it was Sam that was getting most of the focus and assumptions about their relationship.
Hanging around in the latest backwater town had been wearing on Sam's nerves. Thanks to his brother the whole population, admittedly only in the hundreds, had treated them as a couple. And that had not always been so nice. Dean might enjoy the occasional 'friendly' bar fight but last night's had not been one. Their sort was not wanted in here. And the whole population had just unknowingly been saved from slowly being drained of its, their life force. Ungrateful bastards!
He turned to the front only to attract Dean's attention and he gave him the bird at the resumed chuckling.
"Awe, come on Sammy. It's turning a lovely shade of purple," Dean could not read his mind but he just knew Sam thought him responsible for the shiner. He could not help himself and continued to find it all highly amusing. Serve his brother right for being so uptight about it all, it was just a bit of fun, and for not ducking the punch in time.
Sam's eye might be black blue and half closed but he still saw that expression on his brother's face and stared pointedly ahead with a few choice words under his breath for good measure.
The idiot had not done Sam any favours or himself for that matter. What had happened to Dean's stated desire to bed as many women as possible in the months he had left? He wasn't going to get any, never mind 'some', pretending to all and sundry that he was Gay. It had been a relief when they'd gotten the call from Bobby which meant they had a reason to leave and were not 'high tailing it' out of town at first light. They'd left before dawn.
As the car ate up the miles and the scenery did little in the way of changing, Sam began to relax slightly but decided to study Dean from out of the corner of his good eye. He could not see anything about his brother's looks or manner that should suggest to anyone on first meeting that he was gay. He had the rough good looks that made him be termed handsome, very proper and manly. His dress sense, and Sam used the term loosely, was pure 'hetro' as far as he could see, not even rubbing shoulders with 'metro'.
So that could only mean Dean was giving off a vibe that Sam could not feel or more likely, he conceded with an internal groan, it was down to himself. So he was more boyish, taller, slimmer seeming, not as 'robust' under his chosen baggy clothes but still, just because he liked to be clean and as well presented as was practical on the road, he did not think he warranted the assumption. And what really stuck in his craw was the way people looked at the pair of them together and he just knew, as they were sized up, that he was relegated to being a 'bottom'. He sighed.
"What?" Dean asked glancing over.
"Nothing," he did not really want to talk as it would only lead to more ribbing or an argument.
"A sigh like that does not mean 'nothing'. Give."
He sighed again knowing Dean would not let up. "Fine! When we get there, if anyone, anyone, says anything about us being a couple, you put them 'straight'. You understand me?" gesturing emphatically, twisting around to look directly at Dean.
"Awe, Sammy. I thought you'd be flattered. It'd take someone special to get someone like me," grinning at the disgusted look he got in return. "Come on. Lighten up," and he laughed.
"I mean it!"
"Don't get your panties bunched up."
The car swerved narrowly missing the on coming truck as Dean was punched on the arm none too gently. That sobered his mood, the Impala in peril. "Okay. Okay!" sulkily rubbing his arm. "Man!"
Sam turned back to looking out of the windscreen but not seeing anything, slumped down once more. He got so lost in his own thoughts that he had not realised that they had pulled over with the music switched off and the engine idling. He turned to Dean who was sat looking at him, left arm leaning across the steering wheel. "What?" he asked him, shrugging his shoulders in annoyance.
"This is really bothering you isn't it?" Dean asked him, looking concerned.
"Yes!" exasperated at having to state the obvious.
"Why? It's just a bit of fun. You know what you are."
"We are," mumbled as he turned away.
"What was that?"
Turning back, pointing to his blackened eye Sam said angrily, "Does this look like fun to you, Dean? We got…. 'Gay bashed' last night!"
Dean laughed, "They'll think hard before they try that on the next couple," flexing his bruised knuckles.
"Dean!" his brother was totally missing the point. Sam turned away, collapsing back to face forwards once more. It was useless trying to get his infuriating brother to understand.
"What? We did the Gay community a service. That's what we do. We help people," smugly pleased with himself.
"You are so damn annoying!"
Dean turned serious, looking at him earnestly, "Sammy?"
Sam also turned back to face his brother and asked half resignedly, half hopeful, "Yes?"
"You really need to get laid bro'" and switched the tape back on, pulling onto the highway smirking before Sam could think of a thing to say, his face a picture of disbelief. ---------------
The rest of the trip had been conducted in near silence with them exchanging little conversation, all of it about the next job. While Dean had eaten something unspeakable to Sam, he had headed to the library to see what he could dig up on the disappearances in the north of Wyoming.
Not that much. Just the usual, families were worried and distraught, the authorities baffled. Nothing out of the ordinary in one of these cases, just the thing in fact that had flagged it up to Bobby who was otherwise engaged in a hunt of his own three states over.
Pulling into a motel on the edge of the town plagued by the disappearances, Sam elected to stay in the car but watched his brother through the office window as he seemed to take a long time getting a room from the blonde on reception.
On entering the room, he idly wondered if it had become law that no motel had been allowed to redecorate after the nineteen seventies. He was grateful he had never suffered from migraines, his visions aside, or else he would have been sure to get one now. He went to place his bag on the bed. The bed.
"Damn it! Dean?"
"Hey not my fault," holding his hands up as if warding him off. "It's all they'd got. And anyway," grabbing a piece of paper from his jacket and waving it, showing the phone number, "you're on your own tonite."
And Dean gave him one of those grins. ---------------
