Sam gripped the steering wheel. Hard.
What have I fucking done?
He had given in and he had used Dean and it was wrong and Sam was wrong and he had messed everything up and he pulled out onto the side of the road, knowing that it was not a good idea to be driving like this.
He placed his hands on his legs, trying to calm down, but it was all he could do to lash out at himself rather than the car, slamming his arms down on his legs. He groaned and put his face in his hands, trying to figure out how he could have just done what he did. Sure, he was half asleep, but that didn't give him an excuse to give in to the incestual, gay thoughts he had been keeping at bay.
Wow, that was something he'd never expected to think.
He continued driving and stopped to get gas. Soon enough, he stopped again for food.
It was the usual kind of diner, except that he was drinking away the fact that he had just ran away from his brother, mid make out.
As he was on to his second beer, a waitress came up to him from behind and Sam guessed that she was going to flirt with him. He really would have been flattered and let her down easily, usually, but he was scared out of his wits because he was still seized by the urge to stick a hand down his brother's pants.
"Can I get you anything?"
Sam didn't know why, but when he turned to face her, he met her with a look that he could feel the angst seeping out of. The waitress moved back the smallest bit, but it was enough to be visible.
"No, thanks."
He looked down again, suddenly angry at himself. He shouldn't be feeling sorry for himself; he should be scorning himself for his moment of weakness and vowing to fix everything.
"Are you okay?" There was concern in the waitress' voice and Sam politely tried to smile, failing horribly.
"Yeah, 'm fine," he said, before putting his elbows on the table and putting his face into his hands.
"You don't look fine… the next one's on me, okay?" She took his now empty beer bottle and walked off, promptly returning with another.
"You sure you'll be fine?"
Sam's head was objecting to the empathy, but he couldn't help it. He smiled slightly, not failing this time, and looked up at her.
"Thanks."
She walked off and Sam was left wishing that he could feel the way he felt about Dean about her. Stop it. STOP. He had to stop feeling sorry for himself and get a game plan.
God, how am I going to fix this?
….
I'm gonna go back there and I'm going to… to…
He was going to do something at least. After spending another six days driving around, he was going to make things right and make sure everything went back to the way it was. Even if he didn't have a plan yet.
Sam pushed down on the part of his conscience that was crying out and pulled into the hotel car park. He could see their window from here, but couldn't see Dean. By then, Dean knew he was there.
He got out of the Impala, closed the door and locked it behind him. It took a lot to resist the urge to run in, but when he got through the lobby, down the hall and to their door, it opened before he could knock.
"Sam."
His brother's face was lined with worry and… anger. Something in Sam piped up saying that Dean wouldn't have been angry about him leaving if he didn't feel the same way, but Sam silenced it and replied.
"Hey, Dean."
"Hey?" Dean pulled him inside and closed the door.
"You leave me for a week and all you can come up with is HEY?!"
"I'm sorry, Dean. I just-"
"Though that it would be okay to leave me in the middle of," Dean hesitated and looked down on impulse, but then he realised what he was doing and looked back up at Sam, "in the middle of that?"
"I'm sorry for leaving, but-"
"BUT WHAT?"
"But it's wrong,Dean."
Dean's gaze snapped up to Sam, expression desperate. GOD. He looked like an injured puppy and Sam was having a hard time meeting his eyes.
"I was stupid and I'm sorry, but it's wrong." Sam actually HEARD Dean choke back something that sounded like his name.
"Why?" It seemed that Dean was still intent on fixating Sam with the most intensely heart-wrenching expression possible. Sam replied with a questioning look.
"I mean, why is it wrong?" Sam went to speak, but nothing came out. It hadn't felt wrong. It had felt… well, the thing that was the opposite of wrong was the thing that it had felt like. He didn't think it had felt right because the word 'right' simply could not begin to describe it.
"Because we're brothers?" Sam looked up to interrupt him and say yes, but stopped himself when he saw Dean's expression. It had changed from something innocent and desperate and needy to something that was ready to bat down any objection that came in its way.
"Sammy, it doesn't matter that we're brothers! If people want to be weird about us being brothers, fuck them, Sam. We don't owe them anything. We aren't even really a part of their society."
Dean had gradually been growing closer to Sam and he grabbed both of Sam's hands in his own, pulling them up and placing them on his chest. Sam leaned into Dean slightly, absently splaying his fingers. Dean sucked in a breath.
"Sam I would do anything for this." He sounded so desperate, so… loving that Sam couldn't help but melt a bit.
Sam tried to stay resolute, despite Dean already having pulled him back.
"But I used you, Dean." His non-existent plan didn't seem to be working, because Dean was drawing him closer even as he spoke. Now they were almost pressed up against each other. Dean ran his hand up Sam's arm and then to the side of his head. Sam leaned into his hand despite himself and though every warning bell in his head was ringing, he moved a bit closer to Dean.
"You didn't use me, Sammy," Dean was so utterly sincere that Sam couldn't even lie to himself that Dean was just being really, really convincing.
"But we can't…"
"Who says?"
((I don't know why, but I feel like I messed up this chapter… if you see any way I could improve anything and would like to tell me, please feel free! Should I continue from here or does this serve as a good ending? I just don't want to drag it out. I'm sorry about how slow I was to get this chapter up and I hope you enjoyed it. Lizzy out))
