Forget It (Part 2: Not Enough) by frostygossamer

Watching TV and eating pizza every night was getting old, so one night Sam suggested they go out to a bar. Dean agreed. He felt like he needed to get out too, but he was a little nervous that Sam and he would end up in a gay bar. To his great relief, that didn't happen.

The bar Sam chose was populated by a colourful mixture of local characters. Sam and Dean sat at the bar and Sam ordered two beers. Dean started to eat peanuts from a bowl on the bar. When he noticed, Sam slapped his hand away.

"Jeez, Dean," he hissed. "Do you know how many germs there are in the average bowl of bar snacks?"

"No, Mom," Dean mocked him. "How many?" and he continued eating.

Sam growled. Dean chuckled to himself. The guy was sure acting the nagging wife.

"So, tell me something, man," Dean began, trying to make conversation. "How did you and me meet up?"

Sam hesitated. He didn't know if he should make up some story.

"Dean," he said. "The doc said I'd better not talk to you about the past. He said the memories had to come back naturally, without prompting. Sorry."

Dean nodded. He thought maybe he'd heard that someplace before.

"OK, then," he tried again. "But how long have we been together, roughly? Tell me that at least, dude."

Sam thought a moment, taking a sip from his drink.

"Since forever," he said, smiling. "But really together for maybe three years."

Dean nodded to himself. Three years was a relationship. That's for sure. He must have been real seriously into this guy.

The lady bartender had been eyeballing the pair of them for a while. She came over and fussed around clearing the bar.

"You guys from out of town?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Just passing through, kinda." His manner was a little brisk, like he wanted to discourage conversation.

The woman turned her attention to Dean.

"Cos I woulda remembered a couple of good-looking guys like you," she explained, flirtatiously.

Dean gave her the once-over. Nice eyes, nice lips, nice rack, nice butt. He flashed her the trademark grin. He could practically see her heart flutter. Sam vanished from his mind.

"You got a good memory, Terry?" he asked with a smirk, reading her name badge.

Terry beamed at him. "I got a great memory for big tippers and handsome guys," she said.

"One out of two ain't bad," he joshed, leaning on the bar.

Terry giggled and leaned toward him, her ample bosom proud and unashamed. "I finish in a hour," she whispered.

Forgotten by his side, Sam gave a little cough. Dean suddenly remembered that he was there. He sat back and smiled regretfully.

"Sorry," he said. "Not tonight, Terry. I'm kinda on lay-by."

Sam shuffled uncomfortably on his bar stool. He downed his drink in one and banged the bottle down on the bar unnecessarily loudly, breaking the connection between Dean and the girl.

"Gonna go back home," he sighed. "Been a long day, Dean. Need to get myself some sleep."

Dean was a little surprised. He was just starting to enjoy himself, but he downed his drink, winked at the girl and followed Sam out the bar.

"Didn't have to come along, man," Sam told him outside.

"Now why would I wanna stay, dude?" Dean asked. Except, he thought, for the way that girl had gotten him feeling so, well, horny.

~O~

Sam yawned theatrically as they entered their apartment, and he made straight for his room.

Dean went to his own room, got undressed and sat on the bed for a while, thinking. Although he tried to pretend otherwise, Sam was angry with him for flirting with that pretty piece of tail in the bar. He couldn't blame Sam since they were supposed to be in a relationship, but, hell, Dean couldn't stop himself coming on a little strong. He was feeling ridiculously sex-starved. And Sam wasn't helping. For a so called 'boyfriend' he was keeping himself very much to himself.

Dean weighed up his options. 1: go on doing without sex, 2: go find himself a girl behind Sam's back, 3: go fuck Sam. Hmm? Well, 1 was impossible, sooner or later he knew he would crack, 2 would be easy but a no-no and 3? Well, he was supposed to be gay for this guy, wasn't he?

Dean got up and crossed the hall to Sam's door. He knocked softly then opened it a crack and peeked in. Sam was laying in bed reading a book. He looked up questioningly.

"You awake?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Looks like it," he replied, his tone of voice betraying that he was still just a little pissed with him.

Dean went on in and sat on the end of Sam's bed. "Want some company, man?" he asked, leadingly.

Sam raised an eyebrow and stared at Dean for a moment, then he put his book on the nightstand and turned back to smile at him.

"Yeah, sure," he said, his smile widening. "Feeling lonely?"

Dean returned his smile uncertainly. "Feeling horny," he replied.

Sam chuckled. "Like always, dude," he commented, and pulled off his T-shirt. "Let's see what I can do about that."

Dean took Sam's lead and slipped out of his things. Sam moved over and let Dean slide in bed beside him. Dean lay back against the pillows feeling on edge, closed his eyes and breathed deeply to calm his nerves. He heard Sam chuckle softly and felt his big body loom over him. Sam's nose tickled his cheek as their lips met.

Dean put his hands on Sam's broad shoulders, ready to push him away if he needed to. He felt Sam run a big hand over his chest, across his nipples and down over his hip, then around to caress and squeeze his butt-cheek.

Dean's back arched instinctively, thrusting his hips up into Sam's body. He felt strangely disassociated as his body cleaved to his lover. It seemed to remember what his mind had forgotten. Dean tried to clear his mind and let his body go.

As Sam deepened the kiss, Dean stopped pushing at him, and his fingers slid behind Sam's neck, pulling him closer. Dean's arms slipped further around Sam's back, pulling him tighter against his chest. As Sam began to bite at his collarbone, Dean threw back his head and gasped, "Jeez, Sam, I need this so bad."

It felt good. God, it felt so damn good. And easy. Easy like they had done it hundreds of times before, every glorious passion filled night for years. Dean couldn't deny it. Sam knew exactly where to touch him, and he was more than good at it.

They collapsed panting in a tangle of limbs and, as Sam placed a reverent kiss on his temple, Dean realised, if this was how being gay felt, that he wanted it.

~O~ The next morning Dean woke up naked and alone in Sam's bed. Sunlight was drifting in through the half-open window, and the smell of eggs and bacon floated through the apartment.

Dean got up and wandered into the bathroom to wash up, then he put on some clothes and joined Sam in the kitchen.

"Eggs," Dean observed.

"Yeah, and bacon," Sam replied. "Pancakes on the side," he added, indicating the pancake pan in his hand.

Dean sat down and tucked straight in. Sam added the final pancakes to the stack and carried them to the table, sitting down across from Dean. They ate silently for a while, until Sam broke the silence.

"You OK about last night, man?" he asked uncertainly.

"Sure," Dean replied quickly.

"Sure?" Sam asked.

Dean paused from eating. "This is all kinda... new to me," he explained.

"New?" Sam returned, chuckling. "Dean, we've been together a long time."

"I know, I guess," Dean replied. "But those three years are gone, Sam. And last night was kinda like the first time for me."

Sam coughed uncomfortably. He hadn't thought about it that way.

"Well, you know, Dean, I WAS your first. Your first guy, that is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously."

"Then I guess it was you turned me gay, dude," Dean laughed.

"Kinda," Sam replied.

~O~

After that first awkward time, Dean got used to being with Sam. At last he began to feel like he really was in a relationship, and one that seemed to be working out pretty good.

It felt like they were a couple, like they had always been a couple. And they were soon getting comfortable around each other again, like nothing had changed, like before the savage harpy attack on Dean that had hospitalized him and stolen his past.

Meanwhile Sam was telling himself he had made the right decision. He knew he was being selfish. He should have told Dean right up front that he and Dean were brothers. But if he had done that he would have kissed their fragile, desperate romance goodbye.

After all they had only gotten into that totally wrong but as necessary as air thing because Dean was going to Hell in a matter of days, and they couldn't let go of each other, not for one moment.

Dean had needed to imprint every inch of Sam, the sound of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him, on his memory, because he was going to Hell for eternity and he needed to remember, remember everything.

Of course, when Dean had come back there had been Ruby, and Dean would never forgive Sam for that. But they had gotten over it because they had to, because they needed to be together.

Without knowing about Hell, there was no way that Dean could ever understand how they had gotten so into each other. And no way was Sam going to tell Dean about Hell, no way. If Dean found out he had been sleeping with his brother, without knowing the how and the why, then that special thing they had would be over for good.

Sam had thought about that long and hard, before he had introduced himself to Dean in the hospital. He had checked Dean in under a false name, and given them a fake credit card. So it had been easy to go on being those two fake people, two unrelated guys who could so easily be a couple.

People had an annoying habit of assuming that anyways. That way he and Dean could be together, and they could resume their thing as soon as Dean was settled and OK around him again.

Sam's plan seemed to be working, just so long as Dean didn't find out the truth about who they really were, at least not too soon.

Then Bobby decided to give Sam a call.

TBC

A/N: Sam should have known Bobby was going to worry about Dean.