Good news: I updated the story! OHMYGODYES! - that's what you're all saying, isn't it? Ha! Hopefully it'll make your day a little better. I don't know about you, but my semester is ending, which gives me next to no joy at all, so hopefully, if you're having the same problem, this'll help.
I'm sorry for the long delay, but I warned you. And it's not gonna get better. Between two schools, a job, three times a week dancing and all that, there's hardly any time to write. I risked missing some deadlines and not finishing this semester just by writing this chapter, guys! So please, be patient. But my promise not to give up on this still stands!
Now to the bad news: My pet rabbit died last week :'( I'm still not very over it, so hopefully my awesome and irreplaceable beta Tracey will forgive me if I dedicate this chapter to him.
R.I.P. Kulíšek, you were loved and now you're greatly missed 3
To answer some of the reviews (because when you're a guest, I can't reply to you directly): No, I am not male, I'm a girl, but I take it as a compliment. I've always been interested in boys, so maybe that's where all the details come from ;)
Bare with me and enjoy,
~ love Lalinka
Chapter 9
Dean thought the party was a blast. After all the drama with Mark, he could use the break. It was amazing of Sam to take them here tonight, even though Sam didn't look that thrilled about it. Dean was flattered that Sam would suffer through something just to ensure that Dean had fun, but that was not what he wanted. Not as a boyfriend and definitely not as a friend.
The band on stage announced their last song and Dean knew that it meant that there would be at least two more, so he decided to bring them some beer and once the group was done, he was going to suggest that they leave.
Getting two cups of beer on his way from the restroom was the easy part. The hard part was to make his way back to Sam, because the narrow hallway was blocked by a drunken girl whose target was obviously Dean.
"Hey, Dean-o," she said and Dean couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. That meant they'd most likely slept together.
Then she scurried close enough so that Dean could smell her perfume and he remembered.
"Hey, Mariah," Dean said, pulling away, because she was getting way into his personal space for his liking.
"It's been a while since I saw you," she slurred. "I was thinking...maybe we could have a second round, hm? What do you say?" she put his hand on him. Dean' hands were full and he had no room to shake her off.
"I'm sorry," Dean grinned sheepishly, hoping she would get the message. "I'm kinda busy right now."
"Oh, I see," she grinned knowingly. "I guess I'll just have to be faster next time."
Okay, so she didn't get the right message, but at least she was backing off.
"So when do you think you'll be...less busy?" she asked.
Yep, that was the million-dollar question. Dean didn't want to think too hard about his situation with Sam; what it meant and what it didn't mean, so he just shrugged.
"Dunno, ask me next week," he winked at her.
She seemed like she was about to say something else, but he pushed past her, apologized and hurried back to his and Sam's table.
Except when he got there, Sam was nowhere to be seen. Dean frowned. That was weird. If Sam had gone to the restroom, Dean would have met him. The senior looked around to see if his friend wasn't somewhere in the crowd.
"Hey, Dean, you're still here?" Jeff, one of his classmates patted his back. "I saw your friend walking out just moments ago, I thought you'd gone with him!"
Sam had already gone? What was going on?
"I was actually just leaving. Here, have a beer, Jeff," Dean said, putting the cups in the other guy's hands, then he turned around and went out of the pub.
He looked around, but Sam was nowhere to be seen. Dean hoped everything was okay as he made his way back to their dorm room.
Sam was standing by his bed and didn't even turn around.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Dean asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," Sam spat back.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean frowned, stepping forward.
"It seemed like you'd rather be with that girl you met," Sam said.
So that was what this was about. Dean frowned. He would've expected Sam to put at least some faith in him. Wasn't that what relationships were about? And was that how Sam was going to react every time Dean even talked to someone else? Because, honestly, talking was all he did with Mariah.
"Sam..." he started, but then he realized, he had nothing to say. He didn't do anything wrong! "All I did was tell her that I wasn't interested," he frowned.
"That's not what you said," Sam chuckled bitterly. "You told her you were free next week!"
Dean opened his mouth to defend himself, but then he realized something. "You heard that?" he asked suspiciously. "Were you following me or something?"
Sam had the decency to at least blush.
"I didn't mean to, but you were gone for so long and when I went looking for you, I found you and her together."
"And did you, even for a second, think that maybe she just came onto me and I was trying to shake her off?" Dean asked, angrily. "I wouldn't take you for the judgmental type, you really disappoint me, Sam."
His roommate's face fell and Dean knew he was an ass. He was just about to say he was sorry, when Sam spoke up.
"Dean, if you don't want us to be together, if you're just waiting for the week to be over, then we can call this thing off right now," he said.
That hurt. Sam really didn't see him as anything more than a pretty playboy. He wouldn't even give him the benefit of the doubt.
"You know what? Maybe you're right. If you can't trust me, maybe we really shouldn't be together," he exclaimed angrily and slammed the bathroom door behind himself.
He couldn't believe it. Things were good, with him and Sam, at least he thought so. Was it his fault that Mariah chick decided to hit on him tonight? No! He even rejected her for Christ's sakes!
He took a shower, brushed his teeth and even shaved, even though he never did that in the evening, just to avoid Sam for a little while longer.
When he walked out of the bathroom, the light was off and Sam was in his bed, his back to Dean. He wasn't asleep and Dean knew it, but he couldn't be bothered to call him on it. He just climbed into his own bed and eventually fell into a restless sleep.
They didn't speak to each other the next day. Fortunately, they avoided any morning awkwardness, because Sam got up and in class much earlier than Dean, as usual. But even after the senior was done with school for the day, he just kept wandering around on Campus, with no particular goal, except to stay away from Sam for as long as usual.
"Hey, what's up, Dean?" Tess said as she slid next to him into a booth in some diner Dean went in for a coffee.
"Not much," Dean said, looking out of the window.
He didn't mean to be rude; he just really wanted to be alone. What he needed the least was his freshly in love friend, as much as he loved her.
"Where's Sam?" she asked.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Where's Matt?" he retorted.
"Hey, what's with you?" she frowned.
Dean didn't really know himself, so he just sighed.
"Dean Winchester, are you moping?"
"What? That's ridiculous," Dean snorted.
"What happened between you and Sam?" Tess asked.
"Why do you think something happened?" Dean raised his eyebrow.
"Because you two have been joined at the hip ever since you'd introduced him to us and now classes are long over, but you're sitting here, by yourself," she pointed out.
"Yeah? Well maybe I wanted to be alone without any of my nosy friends interrogating me," he replied.
Tess stuck her tongue out at him.
"Trust me, I just spend days moping," she said. "Takes one to know one and you, my dear friend, are moping. So spill, what happened?"
Dean gave up with a sigh and explained to Tess why'd they argue last night and how insulted he felt that Sam was so quick to judge him.
She listened to him ramble, until Dean suddenly stopped talking; realizing that he'd just told Tess about the 'boyfriend week' arrangement. She didn't even blink.
"We all think you're gonna end up together, eventually," she shrugged when he asked her about it. "We'd bet on it, but there's no one to collect the money from, since no one wants to bet against it," she laughed.
"You're all idiots," Dean stated, but he couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth curled upwards, so he tried to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee.
"No, you two are the idiots," Tess retorted. "Look, I get why you're offended and everything, but given your history, you can't really blame Sam for jumping into that conclusion."
Dean took a breath to defend himself, but Tess was faster.
"You were right, though, he should have asked you before he accused you of anything. So, the way I see it, if you both could just say you're sorry and then kiss and make up, everything would be fine. Am I right?"
"I hate you," Dean sighed as a way of admitting she was right.
She just smiled, knowing full well what Dean meant by that.
"Yeah, feeling's mutual," she grinned and got up. "Go back to him and talk this out, Dean. And stop moping," she said and walked out.
Dean thought about what Tess had said and couldn't help but agree with her. He still thought he had every right to be upset about what Sam said last night, but maybe, instead of acting like a little child, he should have told Dean how his accusations made him feel, as gay as that sounded.
Right in that moment, Dean's phone beeped, telling him he got a text. It was from Sam.
I'm sorry. Can we talk? S.
Dean had never finished a coffee as fast as he did then and hurried back into their room.
-xXx-
Sam sighed and put his phone away. It had been 10 minutes and still no answer. He texted Dean with an apology, hoping they could settle things down between them, but it seemed that his roommate wanted to hold a grudge.
Sam talked to Jess about what happened and she agreed that what Dean did was stupid, but she still thought Sam should have told Dean how he felt instead of yelling it into his face. Sam had to admit she had a point.
He was slowly losing the hope that Dean would accept his apology and that they'd work things out and maybe even got to carry on in their trial week, when the door opened and Dean walked in.
Sam stood up and nearly flung into his friend's arms, but then he thought that it probably wouldn't be very appropriate, so he just stood by his bed awkwardly.
Dean didn't seem to be much better off, because he scratched the back of his head, clearing his throat.
"So, um...I got your text," the older boy said finally.
"Yeah, I..." Sam started, but didn't know how to finish. He already said Dean he was sorry in the text. The ball was in Dean's hands now.
"I'm sorry too," Dean said, smiling softly. "Sorry I exploded, but...not sorry we fought."
Sam blinked. What was that supposed to mean?
"So, you, uh," he asked carefully. "You're glad things ended the way they did between us?"
"Oh, god no," Dean said quickly. "No, I wish I knew how not to get all defensive every time someone close to me says something insulting, but I'm glad that I know what you think about me now."
Sam winced a little. This was so not going the way he hoped it would.
"Dean's, that's not-"
"Let me finish," Dean interrupted him. "Look, I can't blame you for thinking what you thought, seeing me with the chick, but I wish you'd asked me about it first, before you outright called me a cheater. Because, you know, if we're supposed to be together, and I thought we were, then you're gonna have to trust me a little more than that."
Sam sighed. Dean was right, of course he was right.
"I really am sorry," Sam sighed. "I was...I got scared, you know, seeing you with her. The first thing that popped into my head was 'Is she better than me? Is he going to choose her over me?' and it had nothing to do with me not trusting you. It was me not believing in myself."
Dean's face softened a little and he took a step closer.
"So we're okay?" he asked.
"We're okay," Sam smiled and walked up to his friend to wrap his arms around him.
He felt Dean's arms tighten around him as well and he could feel a huge weight lifting off his chest. They were okay. And all was right in the world.
"How about we learn from this and move on?" Dean suggested. "I'd very much like to continue in our trial boyfriends plan, if that's okay with you."
Sam's cheeks started to hurt from grinning so wide.
"Yeah, I'd like that too," he nodded.
"But if we're gonna continue, I'm gonna need a few changes," Dean said.
"Like what?" Sam blinked. Had he been doing something wrong?
"I'm gonna need you to be yourself, Sam," Dean sighed. "Because the first few days? They were awesome, and fun and I thank you for them, but let's be honest. That's not you."
Sam looked down, biting his bottom lip.
"You're right, it's just...I'm afraid that my idea of a good time would bore you," he admitted.
"Well, you still have to try me," Dean smiled softly and put his hand under Sam's chin, tilting his face back up. "Better we try and find out whether we enjoy the time spent together now, than build a relationship on lies, no?"
Sam nodded. Yet again, Dean was right.
"You know, for someone that doesn't do relationships, you seem to know a lot about them," he said.
"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "Part of the reason I avoid them."
Sam's face must have given something away, because Dean quickly added.
"Hey, but I'm willing to give it a chance with you! Just be real, okay? And we'll see what happens."
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean again and laid his head down on his shoulder.
"I just really wish you'd say yes when this week is over..."
"I know," Dean said, kissing the top of Sam's head and for some reason, that answer did nothing to reassure Sam.
Just how serious Dean was going to get Sam found out the next day, when he returned from class. He caught his roommate in the middle of pushing Sam's bed towards his own.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Dean raised his eyebrow. "I'm moving you in with me."
"Dean," Sam snorted. "We already live together."
"Hey," Dean feigned being offended. "Don't go rainin' on my parade. Give me a hand, instead, will you? Why should I do all the hard work," he stuck his tongue out.
Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes, but he put his bag down and went to help the senior pushing the bed up against Dean's.
"There, that's better," Dean grinned when they were done.
"Why is it my bed that had to move, anyway?" Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, who only blinked at him innocently and Sam would have almost believed him that he had no idea what Sam was talking about. "Why not yours?" he clarified.
"Well, I am the older one," Dean said.
"So?" Sam raised his eyebrow, not convinced by that reason. "What if I didn't like the idea?"
"Yeah, as if," Dean stuck his tongue out.
"No, really, what does your side of the room had that mine doesn't?" Sam insisted.
"Well..." Dean stalled, looking around, most likely searching for the answer. "Mine has the bathroom!" he announced victoriously.
Sam just laughed; he couldn't argue with that.
"So what's next?" he asked. "We're getting matching sheets?"
"Your turn," Dean shrugged and fell down on their beds, taking up most of the space. "On second thoughts," he drew out lazily, stretching on the mattresses. "Maybe I'll just confiscate both the beds. You're gonna have to find a sleeping bag."
"Oh, really?" Sam grinned and crawled on top of Dean.
He put his hands on the sliver of skin that peaked from under Dean's t-shirt and ran his hands up, caressing the soft skin and hard muscles. He waited for Dean to sigh contently and relax into the mattress, before he began to tickle him ruthlessly.
Dean let out a shriek that Sam knew his friend would deny if he tried calling him on it and tried to wiggle away, but Sam had his position secured and didn't give Dean even an inch of relief.
Only when the older boy was reduced to a wreck of sobbing laughter and tears on his red cheeks did Sam stop torturing him.
"Okay, alright, you win!" Dean said, squirming away from Sam. "You can have your bed back."
"How mighty of you," Sam chuckled and lay on the bed next to Dean.
He would be content just lying there and watching the ceiling, knowing his almost boyfriend was by his side and that things were okay between them, but Dean had apparently other plans.
"Wanna go out for a dinner?" the senior asked. "Just you and me?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Sam turned to him, grinning.
"Maybe," Dean said, purposefully not looking at Sam.
"Well, it sounds nice," Sam shrugged.
Dean finally looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"That's a yes, you idiot," Sam chuckled. It earned him a hit with a pillow over his face.
Another hit quickly followed the first and before Sam knew it, they were having a real pillow fight.
Sam laughed more than actually attacked, plus Dean was fierce and merciless and wouldn't give Sam the smallest break.
One pillow fight and a make out session later, also after some fussing over what they should wear that took them at least an hour; they were sitting in a restaurant. It was on the Campus ground, but it wasn't just any diner. The place was quite nice, and not as cheap as the rest, so people usually came here for dates or celebrations. Sam was determined not to let Dean pay for this.
They were having a good meal, Sam had pasta with chicken meat and cream sauce and Dean had a steak with baked potatoes.
Dean wanted to know what made Sam want to be a lawyer, so that was what they talked about.
Sam wasn't sure he wanted to be a lawyer per say, he just knew that he was smart enough to make it and as a Texan gay, he knew a lot about human rights and their violations. But he didn't think his future consisted of defending clients and trying to put people behind bars. He was hoping the school would help him discover his options and that by the time he graduated; he'd have a pretty clear idea about what to do next.
The whole time Sam talked, Dean didn't interrupt him, didn't offer solutions or try to force his own opinion on Sam, and the freshman could love him for that. At the same time, the older boy didn't seem bored or regretting that he'd asked in the first place, which surprised Sam a little. Sam was a rambler, and he knew it, so he was quite used to people telling him to shut up. He was lucky to have met Jess, because she was a rambler herself, so she had an understanding for Sam's need to talk his heart out sometimes.
And then there was Dean, who was looking smoking hot in his black slacks and white shirt, with his golden hair, white perfect teeth lined with the prettiest lips and don't even get Sam started on Dean's eyes. But aside from Dean's physical perfection, he was also sitting across of him, listening to him ramble and not looking the least bit annoyed. It might not seem like much to someone, but for a guy as socially impaired as Sam was, this was Heaven and more.
When Dean went into the restroom, Sam used the chance to pay for them both. The evening was perfect, almost unbelievably so. That was why Sam really shouldn't have been surprised when he turned around and bumped into Ginny and Jenny, the school's biggest gossipers.
"Well, hello there, Sam," Ginny chimed and Sam wondered where the hell she knew his name from. Probably because he was Dean's roommate. "Are you on a date?" she looked around to see who he was here with.
"Uh, I..."
"Come on, Sam," Jenny grinned. "People here come only for dates. You didn't come here alone, did you?" she looked at him incredulously.
Sam could feel his cheeks grow warm. He really wanted to shut them both up, shut everyone up, and tell the truth, that he was here with Dean freaking Winchester himself and that they were on a date. That Dean pushed their beds together earlier and that they were making out regularly, Sam just wanted to shove this into everyone's faces.
But he couldn't. No one knew about their secret arrangement, except for their closest friends and to the outer world, they were nothing but roommates. He was sure Dean wouldn't appreciate it if Sam told Ginny and Jenny of all people, just for some inner satisfaction.
"Sam, you did bring a date here, right?" Ginny asked him like she was talking to someone mentally challenged.
"I, uh..." Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.
Right in that moment, a strong arm wrapped around his waist. He smelled Dean's cologne and heard his friend's voice next to his ear.
"Of course he did," Dean said and kissed Sam's cheek.
The younger boy looked down, blushing, but he didn't even try to stop the satisfied grin from spreading over his face.
"Wow," Jenny blinked. "Dean Winchester."
It wasn't said as a question, but there was clear confusion behind it.
"Now, ladies, if you'd excuse us..." Dean brushed past them with a charming smile, pulling Sam with him.
Sam would bet all the money he had that they were staring after them long after they'd left.
Once they were in the streets, Dean let go of him and Sam really tried not to be disappointed by that, but it didn't really work.
"Thanks for saving me back there," he said.
"No problem," Dean shrugged. "Besides, it wasn't really a lie, was it?" he nudged Sam's side, grinning and Sam had to grin back.
"Look, I've been thinking..." Sam started.
"Did it hurt?" Dean smirked.
"That joke's getting old really fast," Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean just stuck his tongue out.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Sam continued, glaring at Dean a little. "You said you wanted me to be myself, right? To take you places that I like too?"
"Yeah, I did," Dean nodded.
"Well..." Sam took a deep breath. He knew that what he had in mind was silly and totally out of Dean's style, but he figured he owed the senior to at least try. "Would you visit the gallery with me tomorrow?"
"Sure," Dean smiled and Sam felt a huge weight lift off his chest. "What are we going to see?"
The local gallery in a near town was showing an exhibition of Sam's mother's favourite artist. Sam liked him as well. He painted moods. Well, not moods, he painted people and landscapes and all sorts of things, but his aim was to evoke a feeling in people. And it worked with Sam. He wasn't one to aimlessly wonder around a building filled with pictures that didn't mean anything to him, even though he'd love to see Mona Lisa one day, but this certain artist was...different.
"Wow, maybe you should change your major to advertisement," Dean chuckled, when Sam finished his monologue about the awesomeness of Chuck Shurley. "I swear you could sell shoes to a snake with that enthusiasm."
"Shut up," Sam laughed and elbowed Dean's ribs.
"Ow! Bastard," Dean grinned, grabbed Sam in a headlock and ruffled his hair.
They teased each other all the way back to their dorm room.
Technically, Sam knew that their beds were both on Dean's side of the room now, but the sight when Dean opened the door still required some getting used to.
"Dibs on the first shower," Dean called out, even as he was halfway in the bathroom.
Sam guessed that meant they were having separate showers tonight. Just as well, he was so full from their dinner he was glad he made it the one stock of stairs they had to climb to their floor without puking. He definitely wouldn't have managed a shower sex, or anything.
Dean came out of the bathroom smelling freshly of his shower gel and he immediately collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to put anything on.
"Don't fall asleep until I get back," Sam warned him as he got into the shower himself.
It was definitely not creepy that he used the same towel Dean had to dry himself off. It was saving laundry, that's what it was. It wasn't weird, because Sam didn't smell it. It took him all his will power, but he managed not to sniff Dean's used towel.
Yep, Sam was in trouble.
When he came back to their room, Dean wasn't asleep yet, which he proved by opening his eyes and looking Sam's way, but he was halfway there. Sam put his sleeping clothes on and laid down. Dean's arms immediately sneaked around him and pulled him closer.
"This is nice," Dean murmured.
"Yeah, it sure is," Sam smiled and twined his hands together with Dean's.
"Goodnight, Sammy, sweet dreams," the older boy said, kissing the back of Sam's head.
Sam turned in Dean's arms and raised his eyebrow. "Sammy? Where did that come from?"
"Well, as my boyfriend, I should give you a pet name, right?" Dean shrugged. "Don't you like it?"
"No, it's...it's nice, actually," Sam admitted, blushing just a little. "So what's your pet name going to be?"
"Don't even go there," Dean warned him.
"Baby? Honey? Sweetheart?" Sam grinned.
"I'm warning you..."
"Sugar? Cutiepie?"
"Okay, that's it. I'm moving your bed back to its place tomorrow."
"You wouldn't, darling," Sam cooed.
"I hate you," Dean growled and let go of Sam. Then he turned his back on the freshman.
"Aww, don't be like that, sweetcheeks," Sam poked his side.
"Shut. Up," Dean huffed.
"Make me," Sam grinned.
Dean turned back to Sam, contemplating him for a minute and then he pulled him in for a deep kiss.
It was a slow slide of parted lips, barely any tongue, but it was still breathtaking. But then again, nearly anything Dean did took Sam's breath away.
"Okay, point taken. I'll just have to call you Dean," Sam sighed when they finally parted.
"Good," Dean smirked. "Now sleep, you big dork."
Sam closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Dean. The idea with their beds was really awesome. After the Sunday's fiasco and the fight they had, Sam finally felt like they were back on the right track with Dean. After all, Dean said he would be able to convince anyone to buy anything, right? Maybe he'd convince him to say yes. He only had two days left.
-xXx-
On Wednesday morning – or well, almost noon – when Dean woke up, Sam was still in his arms. As pleasant as that was, it was wrong, because Sam was supposed to be in school.
"Hey, sleepyhead," he said softly, shaking the younger boy's shoulder. "You're gonna freak when you see the time."
"Whassgodhmpf-wha?" Sam mumbled as he roused from his slumber. It was adorable.
"It's way past eleven, Sammy," Dean chuckled, the nickname he gave Sam yesterday rolling off his tongue easily and naturally. He liked it. "And you're still in bed."
"I didn't tell you?" Sam mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I got a day off."
"How come?"
"No idea," Sam shrugged. "We just got a message from the dean that all freshmen have a day off today. They got probably sick of us or something."
"Cool. I'll take a day off, too then," Dean said.
Sam's smile widened and Dean wished he'd really said that because he wanted to spend the day with Sam and not because he was jealous of Sam's free time. He did want to spend the day with Sam, it just wasn't why he'd said it.
"Wait," Sam frowned. "Don't you have classes?"
"Sam, please," Dean waved him off. "I'm a senior. Nobody cares how many classes I've missed as long as I pass the finals."
It wasn't entirely the truth, but Sam didn't have to know that. The dean still watched their missed hours without excuse, but they were allowed to skip more classes than in previous years.
"We should visit the Gallery you wanted to see," Dean suggested. "There'll be much less people than in the afternoon."
"Well, why not," Sam shrugged. "Hopefully, our little date won't get you kicked out of school."
"Well, if it does, make sure you move your bed back before the new guy moves in," Dean said, rolling out of the bed.
"Are you jealous, snuggles?" Sam looked at him with amusement, raising his eyebrow.
Dean rolled his eyes. This pet-name thing started to seem like a really bad idea.
To his own surprise, though, Dean had to admit that yes, he would be jealous. But then again, he'd always been possessive and a little vain.
As expected, the Gallery visit was more Sam's thing. Not that Dean disliked it, not at all, but he was fine just walking around the exhibition hall, taking a look at each and every painting and then he could leave.
But not Sam. Sam was the kind that stood in front of each frame and watched it. He spent minutes inspecting every work and Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't bored. He already knew from, Sam what the exposition was about, but he guessed he didn't have the right eye for it. The paintings were nice, but it didn't leave him with any bigger impression than that.
He didn't want to ruin Sam's visit though, so whenever Sam looked at him, he gave his friend a reassuring smile. That was what relationships were about, right? Compromises.
Except, Dean wasn't really sure he liked it. He liked being with Sam, sure, it was fun and Sam seemed to understand him and like him despite Dean's obvious flaws and Dean liked him too, but...commitment really wasn't Dean's thing.
Admittedly, it had a lot of to do with Mark and his past, but that was not all. Dean had tasted freedom and he liked it. He didn't have to worry about anyone, he didn't have to appease anyone, he was his own man and that suited him.
And while Sam was sweet and caring and really kind, he was also possessive and jealous – if the scene after Dean met Mariah was anything to go by – and Dean just wasn't sure if he was ready to give his freedom up to for anyone. Then again, he thought as he watched his roommate stop by yet another frame, if he was going to get into a relationship, it would be with Sam. No one in this school had intrigued him as much as the tall, brown-haired freshman.
Finally, after what felt like many hours later, even Sam was finished with the exposition and both of them agreed they were hungry. Dean managed to convince Sam to have their lunch in McDonald's, despite Sam's protests and obvious distaste to fast food. Dean's winning argument was that they had salads there and that he really, really, really wanted a chickenburger, but frankly, he was just lazy and McDonald's was close. Sam ended up eating half Dean's menu .
It wasn't even late in the afternoon when they walked out.
"See? Skipping school has its perks," Dean grinned at Sam.
"You're the one skipping school," Sam reminded him.
"Well, now you have a reason too. Skipping school's awesome."
"You're a bad influence," Sam chuckled.
Dean just stuck his tongue out.
They were on their way to catch a train back to the campus. Dean had thought about taking Sam's hand but he wasn't sure how accepting the people in California were, so he decided against it. He heard Californians were cool about it, but he didn't want to bring him or Sam into unnecessary trouble.
As they were walking, they passed a billboard, inviting people to an amusement park. It was on their way, they would just have to go a few stops further.
"Sam, look!" Dean stopped, pointing at the billboard. "Can we go there? We have to go there! Please!"
He expected a little more excited reaction from Sam than a bit lip and "I'd rather not."
"But why not? Come on, it's gonna be fun!"
"Are there gonna be clowns?"
Dean just blinked at him dumbly and then burst out laughing. "Clowns?! Are you scared of clowns?"
Judging by the way Sam bowed his head and looked away, it wasn't the best reaction.
"Sorry," Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder, not laughing anymore. "I never met anyone scared of clowns, I didn't know that was even a thing. I promise, we'll look out for anyone with balloons and run away when we see some big shoes. And if some clown finds his way to you anyway, I'll fight him off. Promise."
That made Sam smile.
"Okay," he agreed. "But one encounter with a clown and we're leaving. Deal?"
"Deal," Dean grinned.
Sam was going to be a great lawyer one day, he thought.
The park turned out to be really small, just a few carousels and a lot of attractions for children, but that didn't stop Dean from being excited. Fortunately, the only clowns around were painted on the stalls, so eventually, even Sam let himself go.
Since the park was small, it didn't have a lot of attractions for people their age, but they still had plenty of fun. They loved the rollercoaster the most.
Dean caught Sam looking at the shooting stand, so they went there and by some miracle, Dean managed to win a small teddy bear for Sam. It was blue, holding a red heart that said I wuv hugs and Dean thought it was hideous, but he kept it to himself. He didn't say that winning it was just a pure coincidence either. He like the way Sam looked at him with admiration in his sparkling, hazel eyes too much for that.
They were just looking to buy something to eat, when the fair's photographer stopped them.
"You look like a lovely couple," he said with a broad smile. "Mind if I take a picture?"
Dean exchanged a look with Sam to make sure it was okay.
"Sure, why not," he said then and put his arms around Sam, standing behind him.
It was a little ridiculous, even though he put his chin on Sam's shoulder, because Sam was good four inches taller than him. But hell would freeze over before Dean would be the 'little spoon'.
Sam spread his legs a bit, so that he would appear to be shorter.
"Better?" he asked, not hiding his amusement.
"If you'd like, I can take the photo just from waist upwards," the photographer said, giving them a funny look.
"Thanks," Sam said. "He's got a height complex," he said, giving Dean a pointed look.
Dean glared at him, but didn't comment on it. He didn't have a height complex. That was ridiculous. Yeah.
Sam stuck his tongue out at him and laughed and Dean stared at his face just a little bit longer than necessary.
Sam was gorgeous.
Sure, Dean knew his roommate was easy on the eyes, but he never took the time to actually look until now. And he had to admit that Sam was really freaking gorgeous. From his absolutely adorable dimples right down to the cute little mole on his cheek. He liked Sam's long, shaggy hair that only he seemed to pull off, but what got to him the most were Sam's eyes.
People told him that he had really pretty eyes, but Sam's were just...spectacular. They were this soft shade of hazel with golden sunflowers around the pupils. Real sunflowers, like God painted them there himself. If Dean were a believer, that is.
And right now, Sam's eyes were sparking with happiness and then they shone even more because the flashlight went off.
"What the hell, man?" Dean frowned. They weren't even looking into the camera.
"I like to capture moments, not poses," the photographer said with a cryptic smile. "If you'd like, I can take another one, but you'll still pick this one, trust me."
Dean didn't trust him, though, so they ended up taking another picture and Dean had to control his face muscles a lot to keep from scowling.
The guy parted with them, smiling and reminded them not to forget to buy the photo in the ticket office on their way out.
Dean was a little bummed out about the photo, he really wanted his photo with Sam to be good, so he ended up buying a hot dog and pouring a generous amount of mustard over it. Sam got himself a corndog.
They only stayed in the park for a short while after that. Sam must have picked up on Dean's mood, but even though he asked if anything was wrong, Dean denied it. He really didn't feel like admitting that he was annoyed because his photo might turn out badly. He wasn't a teenage girl on Instagram, after all.
Dean was contemplating "forgetting" about the photo and just not picking it up at all, but Sam remembered, so they went to get it.
The photographer was right.
Their second photo turned out okay, if a little unnatural, but the first one, was...
"Wow," Sam breathed out when he saw it.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, more than a little surprised himself.
The photographer really took the picture just down to their waists, so it looked like Sam actually was smaller. His head was turned sideways and a little upwards and he was looking at Dean, smiling. Dean was smiling back. His smile wasn't bashful and rosy-cheeked like Sam's, his was...dreamy. He was looking at Sam like the younger boy was the best thing that ever happened to him.
The Russian wheel behind them, covered in colourful lights only made the photo seem that much more magical.
If Dean didn't know who he was looking at, he'd say the couple on the photo was definitely in love.
Sam must have seen it too, because he looked up at Dean with a soft smile, almost expectantly. Dean just smiled back and quickly looked away, before things could get awkward.
They paid for the photo, buying only one copy of it, since they lived in the same place and headed back into their dormitory.
Back in their room, they argued for a while about the best place for their photo. Dean thought they would put it on the window or on the board above Dean's desk. Sam wanted to put it on the mirror on Dean's closet door.
"Seriously, the mirror? So you could look at yourself while you're looking at yourself?" Dean chuckled.
"Shut up, you idiot," Sam retorted. "So I could look at us."
Dean just rolled his eyes, but Sam ended up winning the fight and the photo did end up on the mirror, in the upper right corner.
"It's a really good picture," Sam said, taking his shirt off.
"Yeah, it is," Dean said, changing into his sleeping clothes as well.
He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself, hoping Sam would get the hint that he wanted to brush his teeth alone.
This was when things started to get awkward, at least for Dean. He wasn't ready for commitment, for feelings. And Sam just...well, he seemed really sure that what they had was almost a sealed deal and Dean didn't like that. He didn't want to be a jerk and push Sam away or ruin his mood by saying something nasty, but he could really use some space right now. Hopefully, Sam would grant him that.
Sam was already in bed when Dean walked out. Dean slipped under the covers as well.
"Goodnight," Sam whispered, rolling over to face him.
"Night," Dean said and kissed Sam's lips softly.
He didn't think Sam could read his mind, but he was kind of relieved when his roommate left it at that and just snuggled closer and closed his eyes.
Dean knew, though, what was really going on with him. Sam was getting too close; he was nagging at the wall built around Dean's heart and threatened to take it down. Dean's natural instinct was to back off, make some room for himself and push Sam away. But knowing his friend, it would crush him and Dean didn't want to be the one to crush Sam.
Dammit, being in a relationship sure is difficult, even when it's just a fake one, Dean thought, right before he fell asleep.
