The sound of clanking and clashing of pots pulled Dean from his deep slumber. He groaned as the hangover hit him full force causing his skull to thump, stomach slosh and throat feel as though a desert had taken up residence there.

His bed was soft and his head sunk into the, what felt like, feather pillows. That fact alone made his eyes burst open despite the pain that radiated from his head. He pushed himself up and away from the, probably memory foam, mattress to peer around at his surroundings. Sitting up caused his ass to ache slightly which confused him more than anything else.

He froze. What the hell, he muttered under his breath. This was definitely not a motel room, no wonder the bed seemed so luxurious. This was a bedroom and appeared to be a civilian's bedroom, judging by the lack of salt by the windows and lack of weapons littered about the room. Ignoring his hangover, Dean internally celebrated how he'd apparently gotten laid. Pulling himself up further, to sit up straight with the blanket pooled on his lap, he glanced around in more detail.

Books were in an over stuffed bookshelf and an expensive looking laptop sat on a desk by the window. It was all pretty minimalist but something felt odd. There wasn't a single picture of friends on the wall in a pink fluffy frame, no makeup or hair accessories were strewn onto the desk and most importantly there was not a feminine colour in the room; only dark greys and blues.

Dean's clothes were folded over the back of the desk chair neatly, making Dean wonder how long the home owner had been awake. Slipping in his jeans and shirt, he silently prayed that the person he'd slept with last night was the woman on the screensaver rather than one of the men, although one of them, the tall one, was kind of handsome.

He decided that the best way to find out would be to go and look outside of this room. He took a deep breath and readied himself for the reveal. He was reaching out to grasp the handle to the door when it opened from the other side revealing a man. Shit, Dean muttered.

The guy was tall, towering over him, and had a sheepish smile on his face. It was the man from the laptop screen saver. His long hair flopped around eyes which didn't particularly help to hide the blush on his cheeks. He was obviously well built under his plaid shirt; it made Dean chuckle as it was typical hunter's wear. The large man held out a plate with pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs on it like a peace offering. He held the plate with arms stretched out like he was scared to come too close to Dean in case he'd spook the hunter.

Shocked, Dean peered down at the food before it finally registered and he accepted the plate. He followed the large man back though to the small kitchen where the man's own breakfast lay in wait.

"Sorry," The guy mumbled, "I thought you were still asleep." The blush crept down his neck and under the plaid shirt.

"Just woke up then..." He wasn't expecting his voice to sound so raspy but it made sense considering that he couldn't remember any of the night before. His head was still demanding his attention too with its incessant pounding.

Dean pulled himself up onto a stool, wincing at his ass ache, so he could eat at the countertop opposite his host. He threw his leather jacket over the back of his high stool. The guy must have noticed the croaking of his voice as moments later a glass of water was slid across the table toward him. Dean took a grateful gulp and when he peered back down two painkillers had appeared beside his plate. He gazed up at the man but he was focused on his own breakfast almost acting as though he hadn't just been the perfect caretaker. It was kinda weird for Dean as nobody tended to hang around and predict his every need.

He really wanted to remember what happened last night. All he knew so far was that he'd apparently gotten very drunk and come home with a giant of a man. He wondered if he'd slept with him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been with a man but the other couple of times had only been experimental. The burn in his ass also suggested that he'd in fact bottomed which was definitely a new experience for him.

The breakfast was absolutely delicious and if Dean knew more about this guy then he'd probably fill the silence by asking for the recipe. Not that the silence was awkward as the other man seemed happy enough just focusing on his breakfast and newspaper which was spread in front of him. He had the feel of someone who was satisfied with silence and never felt the compulsion to fill it with mindless drivel. Dean supposed that this may come from living alone as it appeared that the man did.

He wanted to address the man and compliment his home although it was slightly too minimalist for Dean's tastes; it was the polite thing to do. He coughed, trying to get the guy's attention. Knowing his name would make it all so less awkward.

Without looking up, the large man replied, "My name is Sam." He said it like a person would upon first meeting someone, not with the disgust of someone who was reminding someone after a night of heavy of drinking.

"Oh, mine's-" He started.

"Dean. Yeah, I know." He flicked the page easily still not looking up. Dean was slightly grateful for that as he didn't think that he could deal with eye contact right now.

He couldn't help but feel overwhelming guilty as he'd obviously disregarded Sam's name at some point during the night while the other man had clearly remembered. He scooped some eggs into his mouth and was reminded again of how wonderful the flavours were. Diner food will never compare. He wished that his stomach would stop sloshing and start being more appreciative.

"This is so good." Dean said around the food and gestured to the plate.

Sam's eyes lit up and dimples pulled into his cheeks as a grin broke out on his lips. He seemed insanely proud of himself. It made Dean's lips twitch up into a smile, "Thank you! You mentioned last nig-," Sam stopped himself and changed what he was going to say, "Yesterday... You mentioned yesterday that you apparently loved pancakes."

"Oh," Dean thought for a moment, "I don't remember that..."

"I didn't think you would," The smile only wavered momentarily, "At that point you were saying pretty much anything and everything." There was a pause and Sam bit his lip as he considered something, "Maybe you might want to work on keeping the whole hunting thing a secret while intoxicated..."

Dean froze. What did he just say? He knew? He told him all about hunting? His eyes darted around the apartment in a search for an exit to just leg it. Panic twisted his features and he wanted to vomit. What was he going to do now?

Sensing his panic, Sam reached out a hand and held Dean's. He waited for the hunter to look into his eyes before addressing him. His eyes were stern and features strong. It was his no messing face.

"Dean, calm down. I know anyway." He soothed. His thumb rubbed small circles into Dean's wrist in a calming motion.

"You... Know?" Dean blinked up at the man in confusion.

"There was an accident a little while ago which led to my girlfriend's death. Apparently, it was demons or something. That's what Bobby said anyway..." He mumbled the last sentence seemingly upset about the loss of his girlfriend but Dean just focused on the name that was barely whispered.

"Bobby? Bobby Singer?!" Dean wanted to rip his hair out, this was such a small world. Of course this guy would know Bobby.

Sam nodded, strands of hair falling over his eyes. He looked innocent and young making Dean feel bad for him. It was horrible to see anyone get dragged into this world let alone while they're so young.

"Dude, I'm sorry..." His manners caught up with him quickly.

Sam waved off the apology, "Don't worry about it. Say, you look like crap so why don't you take a quick shower before you go... It's the least I can do." Sam was correctly assuming that Dean would want to dash almost as soon as he'd woken up. Sam wouldn't allow that; he'd make sure that his guest was fed, watered and clean before allowing him to leave.

Dean was about to refuse but Sam was already pushing him off towards the bathroom while piling a large towel into his arms. It was warm, large and fluffy so basically, everything Dean wasn't used to in a towel. He silently cursed motels under his breath. Sam forced him inside the bathroom and shut the door behind the hunter leaving him all alone. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at Sam's hospitality.

"Oh and there's soaps, body washes and shampoos in the cabinet under the sink. Help yourself to whatever ones you fancy although there's an old spice one that's pretty nice." His voice got quieter as he wandered around his apartment, cleaning up and rearranging furniture.

Dean rolled his eyes but rummaged around the cabinet anyway. Sam was right, the Old Spice one did smell really nice. He found himself wondering whether Sam used this one every day or just for special occasions. He also wondered whether he'd used it before he'd gone out and picked him up.

The whole idea that he'd bottomed with a guy for the first time ever hadn't seemed to have settled on Dean yet but he didn't really think that it'd changed much. He'd always known that he'd held an interest in the same sex but had never built up the courage to explore beyond his first few encounters.

He fiddled with the shower knobs with the uncertainty of every person who has ever used an unfamiliar shower. He twisted one and the shower burst to life, sending streams of powerful jet powered water onto his head. Dean yelped loudly as the water was practically freezing. He jumped back from under the powerful spray.

"Hot water is the one on the bottom!" Dean could hear Sam call from the other room.

He twisted the knob allowing hot water to cascade over his aching muscles and wash away any grime or sweat on his skin. The shower was like heaven in comparison to what the motels usually provided. For one, there was actually hot water. For two, it was powerful enough to remove the kinks from the muscles in his neck.

He didn't want to be long as he didn't know whether Sam had to leave for work or something but he wished that he could spend hours in here. He stepped out of the shower after a few moments of trying to switch it off and wrapped the towel around his wet hips. He peered down at himself and couldn't help but wonder what parts of his body had Sam touched, kissed or trailed his fingers across. A shiver fell down his spine and he found that he really wasn't opposed to those thoughts at all. If anything, his body relished in the fantasy.

The bathroom was steamy and smelled like Old Spice. Dean slipped back into his clothes and wandered back through to the living room. Sam had paper piled up in neat piles on his countertop and his hand quickly jotted down words, making amendments to the typed sheets. Sam looked up and smiled as he entered. Dean found his lips automatically pulling up in return.

"Hey... You don't hunt, do you?" He asked just to make sure.

Sam shook his head, "Sometimes Bobby will call me if he needs something done legally or if he needs an alibi or sometimes if there's some information he needs help finding but I don't really get involved with the nitty-gritty of the actual hunts."

Feeling a swell of protection towards the tall man, Dean nodded thankfully, "That's good. What do you actually do then... Like as a day job?"

A smile forced dimples into the man's cheeks, "I'm a lawyer." He said with the pride of someone that really liked that they did.

"Woah. Really?"

Sam laughed which caused butterflies to blossom in Dean's stomach, "I know. It doesn't seem like it, right?"

"Definitely not." Dean agreed as he watched the man work for a second. He briefly wondered if maybe he was intruding now and over staying his welcome but Sam seemed content so he permitted himself to stay in his presence for a little while longer.

He sat in the stool opposite Sam. The tall man didn't react aside from moving a paper slightly to the left casually. The action meant that the client's name at the top was covered and Dean guessed that it was one of those lawyer-client confidentiality agreement things. The corner of his mouth perked up and he felt an emotion something akin to pride. It was as though he was proud of Sam for being so dedicated to his work and clients which didn't make sense because he barely knew the guy.

He watched him work for an unknown amount of time as he got lost in the way his pen marked the paper and writing got squished in between the lines. Sam didn't seem to mind as he continued as though he didn't have an enthralled audience. It was Sam's smooth voice that eventually snapped him out of his trance.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked suddenly so the hunter nodded, "Will you be stopping at the salvage yard in the next few weeks?"

Dean considered this, he hadn't planned to stop at Bobby's but he could make a detour. It had been a while since he visited the older man anyway so maybe it was about time.

"Not for a week or so but soon yeah. Why?" Dean did have a few hunts lined up that he'd have to deal with before making a stop at Bobby's but he'd definitely stop.

Sam nodded for a second and chewed his bottom lip, "Will you promise me that this will find its way into his hands?" Sam opened a kitchen draw and pulled out a small white envelope. 'Bobby' was written on the front in his small handwriting. He held it still in both hands before holding it out for Dean to take.

Dean looked up into Sam's eyes. They were dark with worry and he was obviously taking a risk by putting his trust in Dean but there was also hope in his features. With all the sincerity he could muster, Dean nodded and accepted the letter into his possession. He slipped it into the inside pocket of the leather jacket that hung from the back of his stool.

He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get on the road and head straight to Bobby's despite the other hunts that awaited him. He stood, pulled his jacket from the chair and threw it on quickly. The action caused Sam to peer up from his work.

"I've gotta go now," He said easily. He'd never felt so relaxed after a one night stand that he couldn't even remember. That scared him slightly. He felt so welcome around Sam that he almost didn't want to leave. He almost felt as though he was actually home which was bizarre, "I've got hunts to do and top secret messages to deliver." He winked at Sam and patted the front of his jacket where the letter was concealed causing the younger man to blush.

"Here, I'll see you out." Sam said while rising to his feet.

He led the way to the front door and grabbed a set of keys from a bowl beside the exit. Dean frowned in confusion. Why would he want a set of keys to Sam's apartment? Okay, that's a lie. He knew deep down that he would've loved keys to Sam's apartment even if he never actually used them at least they'd be a nice souvenir. Sam chuckled, drawing Dean from his thoughts. His laugh sounded like music in the quiet apartment. The hunter felt his stomach flip slightly but he tried to ignore it as it was weird even for him.

"Don't worry! I'm not asking you to move in. They're yours." Sam reassured Dean after witnessing the panic and confusion.

Upon closer inspection, Dean could tell that they were definitely keys to his Impala rather than Sam's front door. He couldn't decide whether to be disappointed or not. He knew that he'd only just met the man and it'd be crazy to be given keys on one encounter but Dean had never felt so at home anywhere beside Bobby's. He only hoped that fate might bring him here again.

Dean thanked him and scooped up his keys before heading out of the door. Sam halted his progress by grabbing his wrist. The hunter didn't know why his mind instantly wanted Sam to kiss him. Surely that's not right? Dean pondered. It was just a simple one night stand after all.

"Dean... I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked.

"I hope you don't feel like I took advantage of you last night..." Sam said slowly. He looked guilt ridden and tired. Almost as though the harsh world had destroyed him. In that moment, Dean wanted to wrap his arms around him and protect him, "You're actually very good at acting a lot less drunk than you actually are. It wasn't till afterwards when you started mumbling rubbish before you fell asleep that I realised that you were pretty pissed." He swallowed, "I felt really bad especially when you mentioned that you'd only ever been with a guy a couple of times before."

Dean shook his head, "Not at all! I wouldn't have done anything I didn't like, even while drunk." He smiled at the other man and knew it was the truth, "The drinking thing is from practice with hustling and stuff but I promise you that there's no hard feelings. Just because I can't remember it doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy it."

"Thank you, Dean." Sam muttered quietly with a look of awe upon his face. It was almost like Sam couldn't believe that he'd been forgiven.

"Hey, anytime." Without thinking, Dean leant up and kissed Sam's cheek. Without another word he began to walk down the corridor and away from the apartment. His cheeks were burning as he realised what a girly last impression he made. A kiss on the cheek? It wasn't even on the lips! He didn't look back and was glad when he finally turned the corner.

If he had looked back he could have seen Sam grinning from ear to ear as he watched Dean go. The small kiss reassuring him that the night before hadn't just been from drunken stupor but maybe there was actually something there.

He could only hope.