A/N: Hello my lovelies. So, I'm frustrated with this chapter and it fought me a bit on the way. I hope yall still like and leave reviews about what you would possibly like to see next. I'm always down for a few plot bunnies! Enjoy!
Dean slammed Sam down into the grass hard. Then he sat on his chest and just laughed. "Gotta be quicker than that, Sammy! What, you think a ghost is just gonna tell you when and how it's gonna attack?" Sam struggled and tried to shove him off, but his brother still had a good thirty pounds on him. Sam grew bigger every day and with attitude to match, but at eighteen, Dean still over powered him. Dean teased him, twirling blades of grass in his ears and poking him in the forehead.
"It's SAM and get off me! You weigh like a million pounds!" Sam shoved at his chest again and he finally got up.
"Hey! I'm hurt! I keep in pretty good shape. You're just mad that you can't beat me!" He danced out of the way of Sam's foot, trying to take him out at the knees. Goddamn hormones Sam grumbled internally. He shifted on the ground and imagined the least sexy things he could think of in an attempt to get his hard-on under control. Even his brother being that close to him confused his body. Logically, his brain knew that sparring was not the same as sex, but damned if his body would get the freakin' memo. "What you takin' a break down there, Sammy? Fine then. Guess I'd need a break too, if I just got my ass beat." Dean flopped down into the grass, barely breaking a sweat. Damn him.
Sam took the moment to lean back and soak up the summer sun. Summer in Colorado was nice, and he secretly wished they could stay and he could go to school here. It was barely June, however, so that was a long shot. He'd spent the last three years experimenting-secretly of course-with his sexuality. He kissed a few boys and some girls too. There were times when he would watch a movie with a handsome male lead and he'd find himself thinking the guy was attractive but only aesthetically so. He'd like the eyes of one actor, just to discover that they were jade green, like Dean's. Maybe he found himself drawn to someone else's jawline or cheekbones and realized again that they looked like Dean in that one single aspect.
It seemed that no matter which way he turned, he came full circle back to his brother. And that creeped him out. Maybe it was because of his horribly dysfunctional upbringing, or the simple fact that Dean was the center of his universe, but the older Sam got the more unclear his feelings for his brother became. He didn't quite feel prepared to deal with that particular brand of weirdness, so he settled on the decision that he was straight and shoved the rest of it aside for later.
"Sammy? Hellloooo? Anyone in there?" Dean was propped up on one elbow, leaning close to his face when his voice finally pulled Sam from his thoughts. He jerked back instantly, away from the full mouth and questioning eyes.
"Whoa. Dude. Personal space. What?"
"Sorry! You we're just way zoned out. You know it freaks me out when escape into Sam-land." Dean stood and put his hand out to help Sam up. "I'm starving. I can't believe I let you…" The rest of the thought was cut off as Sam used his leverage to jerk his brother back down. Caught by surprise, Sam had seconds to gain the upper hand. He rolled Dean onto his back and placed his feet on each of his outstretched arms at the elbow, and had him successfully pinned. "Oh, you cheating bastard. You wait til I get up." He tried moving his arms, but Sam pushed his feet down harder, laughing the whole time.
"Oh you're just jealous, big brother! I finally got you down, and now you can't take it." Sam poked him in the chest a few times for emphasis. Dean stilled, and something dark flared in his eyes that Sam didn't understand. That momentary distraction was all he needed, and Sam ended up on his back-again- in half a second flat.
"Okay, now that you've been put in your place-little brother- let's go eat. I'm starving." With that he jumped up and strode toward the house. Sam lay there a minute longer, considering the way Dean's body felt underneath his. No, no. Sam shook his head violently, refusing to acknowledge the dark desire hidden beneath his smiles.
Later, the three of them had lunch at a local diner. Sam and Dean were squished into a booth together and John sat across from them, papers spread out around him. Dean shouldered him for more room and Sam pushed back.
"Boys. Come on, you're not kids anymore. Be still," John told them.
"Yes, sir," Dean said, and stilled instantly.
"Yeah. That's kind of the problem," Sam said, rolling his eyes at Dean.
"What is?" John asked.
"We're not kids anymore, and we barely fit in one booth. We're not struggling just to struggle."
"Fine. Fair enough. Just settle, please. I don't want to argue, Sam." John retreated back to his papers, and Sam opened his mouth to say something else. Dean's hand appeared on his knee, squeezing gently. He looked up at his brother, who begged him to be silent with his eyes. Sighing, Sam backed down. Once he was sure Sam was done fighting, he removed his hand and Sam could still felt the heat there, like a phantom limb. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of Dean's leg pressing against his. It seemed to take all of his effort not to press back against him more closely.
The waitress appeared with their food, and her eyes skated down Dean's body in a very obvious way. She placed a napkin beside his plate and smiled at him. "If you boys need anything else, just holler." Dean made a big show of checking her out as she walked away and Sam rolled his eyes again. Dean tucked the napkin in his pocket, a self-satisfied grin on his face.
"Wow, Son. Guess I can't take you anywhere. It seems like every town we stop in you collect phone numbers." John smiled broadly, practically beaming at Dean. His son, the lady killer. Dean shrugged like it was no big deal and went back to his burger.
"Give me a break," Sam huffed under his breath. Dean nudged him with his knee.
"Aw, Sammy. It's okay to be a little jealous," John began.
"It's Sam. And I'm not jealous." He was extremely jealous actually. Just not for the reasons his father thought.
"One day, Sam, you'll be old enough, and you'll be raking in the phone numbers too. Oh I see it even now. You're turning heads! I've got two good lookin' kids, that's for sure." John went back to his papers and Sam eyed Dean over his salad.
You're ridiculous, Sam made his eyes say.
Shut up, Dean glared in return. Sometimes, the only thing Sam wanted was for his brother to be happy, and to be who he really is. Sam glanced over at the young guy a few tables over. He was handsome, and had been checking Dean out subtly over the course of their time there. He looked away once he saw Dean ogle the waitress and didn't glance back, clearly assuming Dean was straight. While it was painful for Sam to imagine his brother with anyone at all, Sam would rather be jealous over someone who could truly make his brother happy.
Dean sat on the hood of the Impala alone, parked out in the middle of nowhere. Leaning back against the windshield, he closed his eyes and thought. Sometimes it was nice to get away and just be alone for a little while. The only problem was that when he closed his eyes for too long, images made their way uninvited across his eyelids. Under normal circumstances, he never let himself think about these things, and certainly never around his dad or Sammy. But alone, underneath a summer night sky he indulged in a bit of his own depravity.
He played back the afternoon's training session with Sammy. God, but that kid was getting fast. Strong too. Dean did his best to play it cool, like his little brother could never beat him in a fight, but he was barely fourteen and already his own height, and still growing. One day, he is going to be a monster to fight. After all, he was able to catch Dean by surprise once that day, and that seems to be the part he was fixated on. Not only was it awesome that Sam was getting good enough to be an even match for him, but something dark and disturbing coiled in the back of his brain at the thought of Sam pinning him to the ground.
Yes, Dean came to terms with the fact that he liked guys, but that is not the same as having a crush on his brother. His fourteen year old little brother. God, he had to be some kind of sick, fucked up freak to think this way about him. Which is why-he reminded himself- he never did it. Once the flood gates opened, it was damn near impossible to close them again as image after image bombarded him until he couldn't take anymore and he slammed the door shut on his mind. Instead, he thought back to the guy at the restaurant.
He was tall and good looking. Actually, he was the first thing Dean noticed upon entering the room. The guy was all smiles at the girl he was with, so he was obviously straight. Blonde hair and brown eyes were a nice combination in his strong face and he spared Dean a glance and a smile as they passed his table. Dean tried to imagine what it would be like with him, whether he was a top or bottom guy, and the further he got into his fantasy the more lost he became.
Slowly, almost unnoticed by his conscious mind, the images began to shift. Suddenly, the guy was a brunette instead of a blonde. That was fine though, as Dean preferred dark hair anyway. Next, his eyes lightened up from brown to a brown-blue mix that he found appealing. Then, the guy was thinner and was no longer the guy from the diner at all. Actually he was Sam. Dean's eyes flew open and he sat straight up, finding his hand down his pants where it had no business being.
"FUCK!" Shouting always made him feel better, for some reason. Jumping off the car, he paced back and forth, cursing himself the whole way. The next best thing to shouting his frustrations out? Drinking them out. He headed to a bar in town where his fake ID got him only a little trouble. Sometimes, he really wished he could grow out of the baby face already. Luckily, he was pretty much always able to charm his way inside of anywhere.
At the bar, he ordered his usual and tried to resist banging his head on the bar top. He deserved to be beaten for this. Worse, even. Sammy trusted him, and here he was thinking of him like that. No, it had to stop. He slammed his drink quickly and ordered another, never looking up. The bartender slid his drink over and paused. Dean could feel the eyes on him, and the presence of someone watching him was unnerving. He was about to say something when the bartender spoke first.
"Hey, you look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" The bartender used the most obvious pick up line in history. Hell, Dean himself used it from time to time. He jerked his head up with some witty remark at the ready before he recognized the guy. Huh. He really did know him from somewhere.
"Oh yeah. Yeah you were at that restaurant today. Huh. Small world."
"Nah. Just a small town .I love that place, though. Best burgers ever."
"I don't know man. I've been a few places. The diner's was good, but it's got nothing on this little dive I found in Chicago once. You wouldn't even believe it."
"Well, I guess I'll have to try it sometime." The guy's gaze lingered, and Dean stuck out his hand.
"I'm Dean." Simple, to the point.
"Jake. Nice to meet you Dean."
"So, the girl you were with today. She like the burgers there too?" Maybe not subtle, but whatever works.
"Oh, no. My sister is more of a salad girl, actually." He made a disgusted face, and Dean grinned. Sister, not girlfriend. We're halfway there.
"Yeah, I hear ya. My brother too." They spent the next hour chatting across the bar until Dean was able to establish that he was indeed gay. Score. The third best solution to banishing things he didn't want to think about? Fucking them out. Yes, Dean Winchester was a master at avoiding unpleasant thoughts.
