A/N: This was something I had started way, way back in season three. After a hard-drive crash and some serious procrastination on my part, it's finally post-ready.
If you are a Supernatural fan, you've probably already heard Boston's "Foreplay/Long Time" (title purposely shortened in fic) from when it was used on the show, but you may not be familiar with "Rock and Roll Band". Both are excellent songs, and I recommend giving each of them a listen. Title was inspired, ironically, by Journey. :)
A very big and heart-felt "thank you" to Linnie McCary for her fantastic and invaluable beta work! That being said, any mistakes you might find are mine, and I appreciate feedback of any kind. Enjoy!
Tapping his fingers systematically against the steering wheel, Dean laughed as the guitar solo blended seamlessly into the next verse of "Long Time". His body was practically thrumming, some part always in soft motion against the seat as he looked out into the sunny landscape and grinned giddily. Sam wrinkled his nose in Dean's direction, crammed up against the passenger door with his head jostling against the glass of the window. Not exactly comfortable, but, given his state of mind, certainly suiting.
"God," Dean said suddenly, laughing again as Boston gracefully launched into the song's third and final bridge, powerful electric guitar replacing acoustic. "This song is fucking genius."
Sam sighed, staring blankly through the windshield at the flat pavement and sandy prairie grasses. "Yeah," he mumbled without conviction.
Dean gave Sam a sidelong glance, his grin dimming slightly, but his eyes and the corners of his mouth still giving away his state of mind. "What's up, Farrah?"
Sam soured a little, eyes narrowing at nothing in particular.
Dean pursed his lips. "Run out of Aqua Net?"
He looked at Dean then, a predictable response that resulted in Dean's predictable knowing smirk. It was all so redundant.
"Well, we're…" he gestured vaguely at the landscape, "…in Kansas, for starters." He frowned at the yellow fields surrounding them.
Dean looked back out the windshield. "So?"
"You weren't exactly relaxed the last time we were here, Dean."
"What?" Dean asked, sounding vaguely confused. "It's not like we're stopping. Just driving through." He turned back to Sam. "What's your problem?"
You, Sam wanted to say. This. He wanted to jab the window with his finger and explain in no uncertain terms why Kansas was the last place they needed to be at the moment.
Dean's grin returned as "Rock and Roll Band" filled the car. "Gotta love Boston, man. They're smart." He tapped his temple, looking impressed. "MIT smart."
Sam let his head drop back to the window, his eyes returning to the pavement. "Don't know what's got you grinning like an idiot."
Dean shrugged. "Just gotta look at the road, Sammy." He smiled brightly at Sam. "Sun's out."
Sam grimaced. "The sun's out?"
"Dude, a person can't not be happy on a day like this," Dean responded, finger tapping again. "Even you."
"Dean," Sam said then with a sigh. "Three months."
"Sam, don't--"
"Three months. That's not exactly a long time," Sam said forcefully. He was sitting up now, his body a sudden ball of tension settling awkwardly against the vibration of the car. He watched Dean's once-fluid motions stop, fingers tightening on the wheel and mouth closing firmly.
"There's not enough time for this. I'm not--" Sam bit back his words and looked out the windshield. "We're not any closer to finding a way out of the deal--"
"Screw the deal, Sam," Dean said emphatically. "Christ."
Sam wanted to yell. He wanted to yell and stop the car and physically force Dean to listen. But apparently Dean had no attention to spare--couldn't be bothered, what with the sun out and all.
Instead, Sam leveled a dark glare on the highway, clenching and unclenching his hands against the seat. A quick sidelong glance showed his brother biting his bottom lip and air-guitaring with both hands, one knee and a certain amount of luck now the only things keeping them on the road.
"Dean," he tried once more in a low, tense tone, "we need to be at Bobby's. Not headed to Oklahoma. There's no time--"
"Ohhhhh!" Dean was suddenly shrieking along with the song. "Signed the record company contracts!"
Sam shut his mouth in resigned frustration. His elbow found the armrest on the door, and his forehead found his fingers in their gently-formed fist. "Fuck you, Dean," he said, quiet. "Seriously."
Dean turned up the music, and Sam closed his eyes.
Sam woke an hour later to the sight of road and ditch flying by in a blur, his head having painfully returned to grinding against the window at some point. He pivoted against the glass to look blearily at Dean.
Dean. Moving irregularly to Foreigner, now. Beating his hand against the wheel, still grinning like a fucking idiot. Sam watched his face scrunch as he tried to hit a high note, Lou Gramm his guide. Heard him laugh quietly when he fell short.
With the sun filling the car and sleep still in his eyes, Sam thought Dean looked golden.
The tension was still there, waiting at the base of Sam's neck for an excuse to spread to his upper back and shoulders. But as Sam watched Dean hang his arm out the open window, he felt his thoughts come to a rest. He found that he couldn't disagree with Dean, at least not at the moment. A hint of a smile curved his mouth.
No one could pull off a sunny day quite the way that Kansas could. Except maybe his brother.