With blood dripping down from the gash above his eyebrow, clothes torn to shreds, and quite possibly a fractured rib or two; Dean headed to the shower to wash the sludge of a hard day's work off. His brother Sam fared somewhat better with only some nicks and scrapes, but damn if he would have let the beast kill his brother as it intended. It was Dean's job to protect him at all costs, even if it meant dying in the process. Sam would never know the thoughts and emotions that crossed his mind; Dean had made a promise to his father to watch out for Sammy. Sam was the only thing that kept Dean going most days, nothing like having someone to depend on you to keep you constantly alert. Sammy was always trying to talk with him about his feelings and dealing with dad's death. No way in hell was he going to turn all girly and confess his emotions like some chick flick movie gone horribly wrong.

Hot water sluiced the caked mud off his bruised, exhausted body. Dean had never thought himself to be a pretty boy like some guys out there or take great care of his looks. In his opinion he was pretty good looking and sure had a better time getting the ladies than his brother Sam. Just rubbing the foamy soap over his happy trail gave him a jolt of warmth. Gazing down, Dean found his cock standing at attention. Damn my body looks good, Dean thought to himself. Vainly thinking that no one would ever be able to turn him down, after all who would pass up this perfection of a lean, muscled body. Not to mention the lady killers, his sage green eyes got them every time; hook, line and sinker. With all these thoughts of his sexy body running through his, he missed the subtle shift in the thread of reality.

Wrapping a towel around his dripping wet torso, his jaunting gait brought him to what he thought was the bathroom door of their motel. Opening the door he shouted out," Crack me open a drink Sammy boy." Out of nowhere came a voice "Who the hell is Sam?" said someone who looked just like Dean. What the fuck is going on? Did I have a concussion and pass out or something? Is this Gabriel's idea of a joke? Thought after thought streamed through his mind trying to sort out the details of how and why this had happened.

"Who the hell do you think are you, and how the fuck did I get here?" Dean asked angrily. His look alike anxiously said" My name is Jenson Ackles and truthfully I do not know how you just walked out of my master bathroom."

"What do you mean your master bathroom; I was at my damn room taking a shower. When did my rented motel room become your glorified master bathroom or whatever the fuck you are talking about?"

"I don't know what you mean by that comment but this is my house and you are the intruder, so I guess the question is Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"Look buddy boy, my name is Dean Winchester and I have no fucking clue in tarnation how I got into your sacred damn house."

"Wait, hold a minute, your name is Dean Winchester?"

"Damn straight that's my name, who the hell did you pay to have your face look like mine?" Dean asked panicked trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Dude, Dean Winchester is the name of a character I play on a series called Supernatural. For your information I was born with the face. Obviously, I must be drunker than I thought to be having a conversation with my character, you just can't be real. That's it I'm hallucinating or delusional"

"What the hell do you mean I am not real?" stalking angrily over to this Jensen guy and slapping him right on that pretty boy face of his. Startled, the look alike Dean jumped back stung by Dean's backhand on his face. You could already see the imprint of Dean's hand blossoming on the side of his face turning it a crimson shade of red.

"Hey, that hurt!"

"Damn right it hurt dumbass, if you don't shut your cake hole I can make it hurt even worse."

Like a ray of sunlight bursting through the clouds, Dean noticed the deep green of Jensen's eyes, the soft look of his lips, and even further down that subtle V leading down into his pants. Well he is technically me in a sense so why shouldn't I be attracted to the perfection that is me. Hell might as well make the best of a bad situation. It's time to show this pecker that Dean Winchester is as real as they come.

"You're going to do everything I say pretty boy unless you would rather end this day badly"

"What are you going to make me do?" asked Jensen.