Title: Would You Rather
Summary: The boys are playing a drinking game and Dean is forced to make a seemingly impossible decision. If you had to choose only one for the rest of your life… Shameless Brotherly!Fluff.
Warnings: Rated K+ for vague, non-graphic descriptions of violence. Spoilers up to recent seasons.
God only knew what had possessed them to play another one of these stupid drinking games.
But here they were midway through some random action movie neither of them paid attention to as they nursed their respective beers and shot random questions at one another's heads.
"Oh c'mon," Dean protested, pulling a face. "That's not even a fair choice. Give me another one."
"No," Sam denied with a self-satisfied smile, before grabbing a handful of chips from the bag between them. "You were the one who said we weren't allowed to skip questions."
"Yeah well, that was before you started playing dirty."
"Just answer it, Dean."
Sam deftly ignored Dean's grumbled response about 'bossy little brothers', not even trying to hide the growing grin that spread on his lips.
"Now when you say kissing..." Dean started, trying to find an easy way around the choice he was forced to make.
"Full on make-out session," Sam gave back mercilessly, not even bothering to take his eyes off the screen as he watched Jet Lee kick ass. "Tongue and all."
Dean swore under his breath, knocking his head back against the headboard in defeat.
Sam's grin widened. He was probably having way more fun with this than he should.
When Dean finally opened his mouth, the words escaped him in a barely audible rush.
Sam hit the mute button on the TV, sitting up against the headboard. "What was that?" he demanded with shameless glee in his voice.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Dr. Sexy, alright? I'd rather make out with Dr. Sexy than with Crowley, damnit."
Sam held his composure for an astonishing whole second before the first ripples of laughter started shaking his frame.
The fact that Dean had an adorable gay crush on some pseudo TV-doctor with slicked back hair and a track record of women which would even put his brother's to shame would never stop being hilarious to him.
"Dean and Dr. Sexy sitting in a tree—" Sam began singing, his voice slightly off tune and words cracking with barely suppressed laughter.
"Sam—"
"K-I-S-S—"
"Sammy, I'm warning you—"
"—I-N—"
"Okay, that's it," Dean growled out before grabbing the big pillow from behind his back and hitting Sam square in the face with it.
The cushy weapon whacked his little brother over the head with a satisfying thump, but before Dean got a chance to bask in his victory, Sam launched himself at him with a playful growl, knocking him back against the bed and pummeling his face and torso mercilessly with the pillow.
Dean was laughing so hard he could barely breathe as he tried to fight the blows off. Feathers were sent flying through the room- and the lamp on the nightstand may or may not have fallen to the ground after one of them had accidentally hit it with their elbow.
"Alright, alright—get off of me, you brute," Dean swatted at his brother's gangly arms with fake annoyance in his tone.
Sam hit the cushions on the mattress next to Dean with a small huff of residing laughter and their eyes met in an exchange of child-like mischief as their breaths quieted down and smoothed out into a synchronized pattern.
"Alright, my turn now," Dean sighed after a moment before snatching the discarded bag of chips from where they must have kicked it onto the ground during their pillow fight.
"Would you rather run 10k after having spent the whole night on a bender or have Dad walk in on you while jacking off?"
Sam groaned and tossed an arm over his face as if to hide from the set of equally bad choices.
"God… I hate you," he breathed out as images started filling his mind.
"You know Dad's dead, right?" he asked after a second, more to buy himself some time than for anything else.
"Yeah well, Dr. Sexy isn't real, so shut up and answer the question," Dean gave back with a shrug, not falling for the ruse.
"I'll have to go with option A on this one," Sam decided with a little gulp and Dean nearly laughed at the resolution on his brother's face.
Then he sat a little straighter in bed, handing Dean another bottle of beer from the cooler they had conveniently placed next to Sam's bed, before opening his own.
"Alright, I'm next… would you rather get bitten by a vampire or werewolf?"
"Vampire," Dean shot back without hesitation. "At least we got a cure for that. Nothing you can do about a werewolf bite."
"Right," Sam swallowed, instantly sobering up at the blunt truth behind Dean's words.
They had learned that lesson the hard way.
Sam shuddered at the distant memory of Madison's flowery scent and rosy skin. He would never forget the way Dean's gun had weighed in his hand that night- the way she crumpled to the floor in a halo of her own blood.
Sometimes it was easy to forget how fucked up their lives were and then reality smacked them right in the face- pulling them back into the here and now.
Dean noticed the way Sam's face closed off and the way his cheeks paled in the dim light of the bunker. Instantly recognizing his brother's reaction for what it was, Dean's eyes softened in compassion.
"Sam—"
"I'm alright. It's your turn."
It would have probably been a good time to call quits, but for some reason, Sam didn't want for their night to end like this. There was no point in wallowing in self-pity or grief.
So they went on.
Round after round after round. Confronting each other with the past- growing more serious as they urged each other to make seemingly impossible decisions.
Ten years in Hell or one year in the Cage?
One day spent with Jessica or one day with their mom?
Being soulless or being a demon?
One more conversation with their dad or one more talk with Bobby?
If you could make one undone- Stull Cemetery or Cold Oak?
Sam felt guilty for that particular one when he saw a destructive wave of pain wash over his brother's features. Because even though it had been years, there was no forgetting the kind of grief that came with losing the person who meant the world to you. And Sam knew that- better than anyone.
Dean had grimaced and Sam had offered quietly for him to skip the question, 'That was stupid... forget I ever asked.' And it might have taken him a while to get over the initial shock and to force the words out around the massive lump in his throat, but to his big surprise, Dean gave him an answer.
And Sam listened, face open and understanding- eyes filled with compassion and undisguised honesty.
They talked a while after that- going through countless possibilities of how their lives could have been different- how they could have been better if only one or another decision hadn't been made or a certain plan hadn't been followed through.
Empty beer bottles started piling on the floor and Dean's eyelids had started drooping as he stared at the TV- watching the credits roll.
A comfortable silence had spread out between them like a fuzzy blanket and out of the estimated one million things Sam appreciated about their brotherhood- the fact that he and Dean could sometimes just sit and be quiet together- reflect on their lives and bask in the knowledge that despite everything that's happened to them they were still here- still together- had to be one of his favorites.
"Hey, Dean," Sam nudged his brother's jeans-clad leg with his foot to garner his attention. Dean grunted as he took the last swig from his beer and rubbed a tired hand over his stubbled chin. "I got one last question. Wanna go all or nothing?"
It wasn't exactly like they had kept track of who answered how many questions, but Sam had to grudgingly admit that his brother seemed to have an easier time answering most of his questions while Sam always took a while to ponder his options before making his choice.
But in true brotherly fashion, Sam wanted to find something Dean would never be able to answer... there had to be a set of choices that would steal his brother's breath away and make him pause.
"Sure, whatever you want Samantha," Dean smiled, seemingly pleased with how smoothly the old nickname still rolled off his lazy tongue. Sam glanced around the room, trying to think of the ultimate question when he spotted Dean's car keys on the nightstand.
A gleeful grin spread on his lips as he met his brother's eyes. This was gonna be good.
"If you had to pick only one for the rest of your life- would you rather have the Impala—" Sam paused for theatric effect, before landing his blow. "Or me."
Dean choked on his beer, eyes widening at the words. "What?"
"You heard me," Sam gave back with a one-shouldered shrug. "Would you rather live a life without baby... or me."
If anything, Dean's features twisted even more at that- his mouth slightly agape and eyes shining with disbelief.
"What kind of question is that?"
"The last one. So you better choose wisely," Sam warned around a chuckle, pleased with how well his plan to catch Dean off guard had worked out.
Dean seemed to struggle with his options for another second or two, before bitter resolution finally settled on his face, plush lips pursed in an expression of defiance. "This is stupid. I'm not answering that."
"So you give up?" Sam laughed, knowing there was a snowball's chance in hell Dean would ever outwardly admit how
Dean grumbled something inaudible as he rolled out of bed, looking like a petulant toddler in his sudden refusal to finish the game.
"You know that means I win the game, right?"
"Whatever. I'm going to sleep."
Sam was still laughing, fuzzy warmth spreading through his chest and stomach, even long after Dean had left.
He had a feeling he knew the answer to the question, even when he would likely never get one out of his big brother.
It didn't matter.
Some things didn't need to be said out loud between them.
The END.
I don't know what's with the drinking games, but it's like they are MADE to be played by the Winchesters. I hope you enjoyed the brotherly banter. Please drop me a line or two if you liked it! Reviews make my day! :D