A/N: Okay, so I read "Castiel's Friendly Neighbor" ( /s/9454414/1/Castiel-s-Friendly-Neighbor ) by BrandiChampane here on the site and was so inspired! So with her permission, I've written my own story based off her prompt, slightly modified.

Dean Winchester sank down slowly into the old couch behind him, hardly noticing the deep give of the cushion as he focused instead on the regret that he hadn't sat immediately when Sam had suggested. But rather than making his situation better, the room spun worse, so he pushed himself back up, paced the cramped living room with short, agitated steps, and shoved a hand through his hair as he tried desperately to process the news his little brother had so calmly laid on him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, spinning on his heel to narrow his gaze at Sam, trying to see everything at once. Was the boy drunk? Possibly hung over? Or had he really messed up and downed some of those damn pills Dean had heard were becoming popular with college kids?

But Sam looked completely normal, even gave the same smart ass little laugh he did when he'd decided Dean had asked a stupid question. "Dean, I've been sure since Aaron Dacus and junior high debate club."

Well, that sounded like Sam, but still Dean resisted, shaking his head and resuming his pacing. After several tense moments of silence, during which Sam's steady gaze followed Dean patiently around the room, Dean again turned to face his younger brother. "Is this my fault?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as if to ward off the answer he figured would be coming. "Is it because of-"

Sam cut him off with a snort of disbelief and finally he stood. "No! I mean, really, Dean?" He laughed again and shook his hair from his eyes, then turned to walk into their small kitchen. "I'm just not attracted to girls. How does that have anything to do with you?" Dean heard the refrigerator open and the familiar sound of bottles clinking together before it closed again. Then Sam was beside him, silently urging him back to sitting as he passed over the cold beer.

Dean twisted the slick glass bottle in his hands, his thoughts a blur. "What about that blonde chick, Jennifer?" he remembered, motioning vaguely with one hand. Hadn't Sam dated her for the better part of his senior year?

Sam shrugged, leaning forward to snap the bottle cap off on the edge of the table before taking a gulp. "Jessica?" he supplied the correction and Dean nodded, thumbs toying with the edges of his bottle cap as he watched his brother. "She was a lesbian," Sam told him, settling back into the armchair, only slightly less used than the couch. "Her folks were real conservative though. So we faked being together until graduation." He laughed then, as if remembering some long forgotten joke. "As open-minded as people are in college, being gay in high school still meant getting your ass kicked on a semi-regular basis."

Dean didn't smile, and after several moments the grin faded from Sam's face until they were just staring at each other. Dean leaned forward, faking a cough to distract a bit from the awkwardness of the situation. "Guys, huh?" Sam nodded, watching as Dean mimicked his earlier movements, popping the lid off the bottle between his hand and the table. Dean sat up and looked back at him. "Since junior high?" Again, Sam nodded, taking another swig from his bottle. Then Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. "Should have fucking known, man," he grumbled, and brought his beer to his lips. "Princess hair," he finished, and managed a few gulps before ducking the remote Sam chunked at his head.

Same bitch face, same laugh, same Sammy looking at him with puppy dog eyes so hopeful for his big brother's approval. "So…" Sam cleared his throat and took another gulp of his half-empty beer, his eyes at last leaving Dean to wander aimlessly about the room, finally settling on his hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "So, we cool?" he tried again and Dean figured he might have imagined all the insecurity of the question.

Still, he shrugged. "I am," he snorted, falling so easily back into his normal big brother routine. It was easier, it was familiar. "You'll always be a nerd." He pushed himself from the couch, ignoring the scathing look Sam sent his way. But as he passed the chair, he ruffled his brother's hair, like he hadn't done since he'd been in high school and Sammy was still a foot shorter than him. "But we're good, anyway." Because even if it wasn't true, even if he was still unwilling to accept that the brother he'd practically raised was gay, Sammy was still Sammy. Family was what mattered, and it was all he had. He wasn't about to lose it, not for anything.

A/N: I realize it's short, but I have the next few chapters ready to go, so just bear through the introduction. Thanks for reading! And thanks again to BrandiChampane for humoring me!