First of all huge thanks to my beta reader Guitargirl214 :-)!

AN: This is an aftermath story to the episode called Mystery Spot (aka Dean dies over and over again). I figured Sam would have pretty rough time after the incident, probably worrying a bit too much and not wanting to let Dean out of his sight in case somebody else decides to poison/shoot/run over/electrocute/ax/strangle/drown/stab to death/bite to death or (god forbid) drop a piano on top his big brother's head.

So yeah, Sam is worried. And Dean is not happy. At all.

Enjoy!

Cabin Fever

So here is the thing. Dean loves his brother, would die for him, and all that shit, but ever since the weird Mystery Spot Ground Hog day incident, he wishes he could be anywhere else in the world but with Sam. Haunted graveyards included.

"You sure you ok in there, Dean?"

Graveyards filled with zombies.

"DEAN!"

"Yeah. M'ok." Dean grumbles just loud enough for Sam to hear, rests his head on the steamed up tiles and lets go of his cock. No way is he getting off with Sam patrolling the door anyway.

"Careful when you step out Dean, you don't wanna slip on the tiles."

Did he mention the stinking, flesh eating zombies?

Deans wouldn't call himself addicted to sex, but yeah, he likes to get horizontal as often as possible and no fun in three (three!) weeks is definitely not cool.

Three weeks! That's twenty one days. Five hundred and four hours of wasted long-legged opportunities. Thirty thousand and…uh…

"…Dean! Have you been listening to me at all?"

"Sure, man," Dean takes another bite of his burger, eyeing the blond chick behind the counter. Yeah baby, lean over just a little bit more, a little bit more - wow, nice!

"Deee-an!"

"Huh?"

"I swear to God Dean!" Sam pulls a major bitch face. "Could you stop eye-groping the waitress and start concentrating on the vital information I am sharing with you, so we both make it through this hunt in one piece?"

Talking of seconds, three weeks is like one million -

"Dean!"

- eight hundred fourteen thousand four hundred painfully sex-free seconds.

And when Dean Winchester needs his cell phone calculator to tell him when the last time he got lucky was, things definitely need to change.

"It's right up in there," Veronica points a shaky finger at the crown of the oak tree, fear making her voice crack up.

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it in no time!" Dean flashes his patented grin and steps onto the ladder.

"Dean! Get away from the tree!" Sam all but throws him off the ladder, face drawn as he touches the claw marks on the bark.

"No way am I letting you up there!" He says resolutely.

"Are you shitting me dude?" Dean turns away from Veronica, hissing at his ridiculously overprotective brother. "I'm lighter than you, and I got all the equipment!"

"Not any more you don't." Sam snatches the bundle from Dean's hands. "We all know how you feel about heights." He throws over his shoulder and starts to climb up.

"Hold the ladder for me, will ya?"

Bastard!

It doesn't take more than two minutes, when there is muffled distressed noise. "Done!" Sam shouts, carefully climbing down.

"You are so brave!" Veronica gushes as she walks them out of her garden. "I was scared to death!"

Dean feels a flicker of hope when she makes him stop as he is about to join Sam in the Impala. Maybe there is a chance for him to get some, despite his idiotic overprotective brother.

"I…was just wondering…is your brother…seeing anyone? I was so scared Muffy would die up there and he was so fearless climbing up the tree when you couldn't…"

She blushes and scratches the ears of the rescued tabby she is clutching to her well developed breasts. "Because, I've got coffee…"

Dean groans. Sam is so going to regret this!

"Sam! I am more than capable of surviving the thirty minutes it will take you to get some food!"

"I know, Dean, I just don't want to take any risks yet."

"Afraid you're gonna get yourself short changed without your brave big brother at your side?"

"Dean, I … just trust me, ok?"

Damn this look! Dean groans as shoves the copy of Asian Busty Beauties back into his duffle. The food better be worth it!

Man, but the girl on page tree had the hugest-

"Watch out Dean! There is a car coming!" Sam grabs Dean's jacket to hold him from stepping into the road, pupils wide from panic.

Dean eyes Sam as a beige station wagon with a granny behind the wheel zooms past them at the dizzying speed of 30 miles per hour.

"You meant that car, Sammy?"

Sam's mouth is twisted into the annoying shape Dean knows only too well. It is the I-will-pretend-to-hold-back-before-I-bitch-the-hell-out-of-you-anyway twist.

"Yes. You never know when a bug or something is going to distract the driver. I am not going to scrape you of the asphalt!"

Dean hears the swallowed 'again' at the end of the sentence. Apart from being an expert on Sam's facial expressions, he is just as good at reading in between his brothers words. That is the only reason why he suffers through the two minute wait for the green lights, despite the fact, that the only moving vehicle in sight is a pink bicycle. With side-wheels.

Finally the green comes on and they cross, Sam glued to Dean's side, head franticly turning from side to side.

"Wanna hold my hand?" Dean taunts.

It's only after they entered the shop than he manages to shake of Sam's sweaty paw.

Which explains why he has to resort to the 'but we are just brothers' line with their curvy waitress.

He does not think she quite believes him.

The beer is cool and bitter and the music is awesome. But the best thing is the cute little brunette pressed right next to his side.

"So you two, like, take care of trees and bushes and stuff?" She giggles, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Exactly. And mark my words Betty, I personally make sure never to leave our customers before they are thoroughly satisfied." Dean's voice is husky as he runs his hand up and down her thigh. Well it's more like up and up, but hey, she doesn't seem to mind.

"I'd love to take care of more than your garden if you wanted." Dean whispers into her ear and she giggles again, letting him nuzzle her neck.

There is a loud cough. "Excuse me! Could I have a few minutes with my brother?"

"Sam, we are having a conversation here!" If looks could shake and throttle and wring!

"No, it's ok." Betty winks at Dean and lets her bottom rub his thighs for good deal longer than necessary as she gets past him. "Gotta use the ladies anyway. Be right back handsome."

"What the fuck dude!" Dean throws Sam his darkest glare.

"Yeah! Right back at ya Dean! We are supposed to be checking up on the case in here, not checking out random hook ups!"

Dean heaves a long sigh. "Sam, the tree ghoul is not going anywhere! Betty on the other hand!"

"So, you are saying getting laid is more important to you than saving lives?" And damn the curl of Sam's mouth!

"Just because you are ok with spending the rest of your life stalking your brother and living in celibate doesn't mean the rest of us don't have their needs!" Dean hisses, then pauses as he takes in the opening chords of a song that just started to play.

…Heeeeeeeeat of the moment!

"Dude! Asia!" Dean bobs his head to the familiar rhythm, grinning at Sam.

Who has just turned death-pale.

"Man, are you ok?"

"We need to leave...now." Sam manages to choke out before he runs out of the bar.

Half an hour later they are sitting side to side on Dean's bed. Sam is still shaky and kind of greenish in the dim motel room light.

"You sure it was just the food?" Dean asks more than a little bit perturbed by the tight grip Sam has on his hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sammy mumbles. "Just...stay here for a moment, ok?"

"Sure man."

Dean doesn't think of Betty till the next morning.

Dean works his fist up and down his cock, tight and fast, hot water pounding onto his shoulders. Feels fucking good! In the past three weeks he has been able to get off twice. Twice! Both of those occasions quick and awkward affairs, because Sam insisted on standing guard right behind the bathroom door checking up on him every five goddamned seconds.

Watch out for the water, you don't wanna get burned!

Just want to remind you to make sure your hands are dry when you use the razor!

And Dean's favorite: When it comes to your head versus the toilet rim, the toilet is always going to win!

Seriously, Dean knows he has gone down in some stupid ways in the time loop, but bashing his head against the toilet seat while pissing? Not cool!

He's just lucky his little brother was too tired to keep watch over his bathroom-time tonight. Sam hadn't been able to sleep that well for the past three weeks, nightmares constantly waking him (and Dean) up. Also, the werewolf they've hunted down today has taken its toll on both of them.

Well, the werewolf, and the sleeping pill Dean might have accidentally dropped into Sam's coke.

Damn his conscience. What is wrong with making sure his sleep-deprived brother gets some rest? Especially if he can arrange for some much needed quality time with his cock at the same time. It's totally a win-win situation.

Dean closes his eyes, gripping himself hard. Honestly, the 'Tuesday paranoia' from is getting out of hand. He bets if Sam knew what Dean is doing right now, he would just skulk behind the door anyways.

Is everything going ok in there Dean? I can't hear you!

Don't grip yourself too hard Dean; you don't want to give yourself a heart attack.

Or: Dean, are you sure you got enough lube in there? Just be careful, you know how easy you can chafe!

And oh my God, is he really thinking about Sam while jerking off? Ewww! He's totally got to have a talk with his little brother or they are both ending up going nuts over this.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he gets back to his fantasy, finally starting to properly enjoy himself.

Oh yeeaah baby, right there-

"Dean! No, NO. Please not this time! DEAN!"

Dammit! He should have known one pill wouldn't cut it with his sasquatch brother!

Dean rushes out of the shower to wake Sam up, nearly killing himself as he trips over the shower rim.

"But I don't wanna go!" Sam sulks, opening and closing all the cupboards, hunting for anything remotely eatable. "Why can't we once in a while make a home-made dinner?"

"What can you make from beer and… mustard?" Dean eyes the lone container of watery mustard before slamming the fridge shut.

"Dunno 'bout you, Sammy, but I am headed to the steakhouse."

"But we have been there yesterday, the day before yesterday and the day before that as well!"

"So? Wanna tell me you suddenly don't feel like a steak or what?"

Sam's face starts to signs of upcoming bitchiness. Mouth curling. Oh God.

"Look." Dean sighs. "I know what this is about, and you've gotta stop this, Sam. Eventually, you're going to have to leave me alone with other people. Don't know why you got your panties in a twist anyways, Jamie is definitely not going to off me, so just give it a rest, ok?"

"But couldn't you wait a bit more?"

Dean growls. He is so not letting Sam's puppy dog's eyes affect him this time. "I have waited! She has been on me since the day we walked in! If all went according to me I would have spent the last three nights f-"

"Alright, alright." Sam puts up a hand, clearly not interested in detailed information of just what Dean could have been doing to Jamie.

Jamie, who wears precariously short skirts and serves the best steak ever. Jamie who has been flashing smiles (and cleavage) his way every opportunity she got. In other words, she is to blame for the permanent hard on he has been living with for the past three days.

"I still don't think I can trust her alone with you. Not after the way your last hook up ended." Sam frowns.

Dean's jaw drops. Sam had told him about some of the ways he died in the time-loop, most of them utterly nuts, but this?

"Dude! No way did I let myself get offed by a chick!"

Sam just gives him a pointed stare.

"Man, that sucks! But at least I got some proper goodbye action. I guess that counts."

"If you consider getting accidentally stabbed with a nail file proper action..." Sam retorts, tone somewhere between amused and sour.

"Low blow!" Dean whistles, "But you have got to give it to the trickster bastard. He certainly has some crazy ass imagination."

"Crazy ass imagination, yeah." Sam looks away, his tone definitely sour this time.

Dean should have known something was wrong when Sam poured holy-water into his beer.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" Sam exclaims theatrically after he upturns his beer all over Jamie's hand when she comes to take their orders.

"It's ok!" She frantically mops up the beer. "Happens all the time, you have to get use to all kind of little disasters in this kind of job."

"Sure. And my brother is really sorry for causing this one. Right Sam?" Dean throws Sam a pointed look but Sam refuses to meet his eyes, and sullenly stares at Jamie's hands as she finishes the cleaning.

"Nice ring." Sam points out, "Silver?"

"Yeah actually. Got it from my Grandma." Jamie brightens up a little bit at the compliment.

"Can I have a look?" She nods, and Sam takes the ring into his fingers giving it a close inspection. "Hmm, looks like white gold to me."

"Nah," Jamie says "way to expensive, plus I actually prefer silver."

"Interesting." Sam mumbles looking over the menu.

Dean gives Jamie an apologetic smile as he orders his lunch.

"And one stake with extra garlic sauce for me. If it's not a problem of course." Sam comments, shooting Dean a meaningful look.

"Why would it be?" Jamie asks, tone incredulous.

"Just that some ... people … don't really go for the garlic smell. Too intense, if you know what I mean.

"Sure." Jamie says, obviously weirded out.

Thirty minutes later, she is back and Sam takes an enormous bite of the steak covered with garlic all over, chewing it with just a bit too much enthusiasm to be believable.

"Jesus CHRIST-OH, this is the best steak I've had in years!"

"Why, thank you." Jamie gives Sam a wide smile, her eyes still the same sky-blue.

"Told you so Sam," Dean says. "Jamie here is the safest bet when it comes to satisfying a man's appetite."

Dean smirks at Sam's defeated scowl. He knows he won the game.

Also, Sam hates garlic.

Dean comes back to the motel just an hour after he had left to meet up with Jamie.

"Hey man," He grumbles at Sam who, judging by the state of the floor, has been dealing with the stress of leaving Dean in the lethal clutches of a waitress, by cleaning their entire gun collection.

"Dean!" Sam jumps up, his entire face lightening up. "You're ok!"

"Surprisingly enough, Jamie did not suck my blood dry, yeah…" Dean makes a sour face.

"But judging from your expression, neither did she suck any other parts of you." Sam chuckles. "What happened?"

"Promise you are not going to laugh," Dean, groans crashing down onto his bed.

"Me? I'd never!" Sam vows, the smile forming on his lips already betraying his words.

"Yeah, right…so.…" Dean thinks about how to put it nicely, then gives up.

"Turns out, Jamie's boobs are fake."

"Well, that never seemed to bother you before?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. The fakies weren't the problem. It was the cock that was a bit real for me to handle."

Sam's eyes open wide, and then he starts to chuckle, snort and proceeds into a full blown uncontrolled fit of laughter.

"I am – not –laughing!" He wheezes out, eyes tearing.

And you know what, seeing his brother in the best mood since the damned '1000 and 1 ways to kill your brother' time loop is making Dean really, really happy.

Dean prepares for bed, smiling at himself in the mirror as he brushes his teeth. His brother is chuckling in the next room. He can also hear the clinging of metal, which means Sam is putting away their guns, not holding guard behind the door for the first time in weeks.

Dean is happy he went for the quickest of all quickies with Jamie tonight. Jamie who might have fake boobs, but is definitely a real woman below her short skirts, Dean would know.

But Sam does not need to know that.

Dean is aware that this is just the first of many steps they will need to make. It will take a lot more time (and his nerves) till they get back to normal. But they are getting there if Dean has anything to say.

Even if it means Sam never lets him live the story down.

Sam is his brother after all, and Deans loves his brother more than anything else in the world.

"Oh my god, Dean, s-he had a cock!" Sam bursts out laughing as they settle to sleep, his whole bed shaking as he battles to breath in.

"Shut up, bitch, you promised! No laughing!"

"A c-cock Dean!" Sam laughs hysterically. "Out of all the things I checked for, I totally forgot your pretty little ass could be in danger!"

"Hate you!" Dean groans into his pillow.

"Denial! You know you looove me! Cannot resist my boyish charms!"

Yeah, Sam is right. Deans does love his brother. Which is a shame, cause Sam is the biggest bitch ever!

"A COCK!"

"Shut up."

The End

AN: Hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I would be delighted if you could drop me a line. Reviews always make my day :-)

Knups