"BABY! WHERE'S MY LUCKY UNDERWEAR?!" Cas shouts from his bedroom. Meg rolls her eyes at Sam before jumping up from the couch to go help him find his gear. Sam and Meg were watching the news on the couch while Dean and Cas got dressed to head to the arena for the final game of the Midwest Regional Division 1 Championship. Sam has Dean's hockey stick over his knees, and is redoing the tapes, two spare sticks leaning against the wall beside the couch. Dean pokes his head out of his room.
"Sammy, I can't find my socks!" he exclaims, exasperation and stress clouding his face.
"They're in your bag, outside pouch on the zipper side," Sam replies, using his soothing voice to try to calm Dean down. "Do you need help?"
"No, no. I just couldn't find them. Where's my red Jersey? In the bag?"
"Yes, with the white one."
"Okay thanks. I'm almost ready."
Sam finishes the stick he's working on and leans it against the wall. He sighs, standing from the couch and padding down the hallway to Dean's room. Poking his head through the open door, his face falls as he takes in Dean, who's sitting on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
"Woah, babe, what's wrong?" Sam asks, crossing the room and sitting down next to Dean. When he doesn't look up, Sam reaches out and gently lifts his head out of his hands, turning Dean's face towards him and forcing him to make eye contact. "Talk to me."
"I'm fine," Dean replies, in classic Dean fashion.
"You're not. Come on, Dean, I know you better than that. Just talk it out."
"I'm just," Dean sighs, "I'm fucking stressed! Not only is this playoffs, and we're expected to win the Championship, but I'm expected to lead the whole team. Which is fine but there's gonna be a bunch of scouts there and I have to do well if I want to be drafted to the NHL. I've got three huge exams coming up, not to mention the two presentations, five essays, and three portfolios I have to complete. And I have to finish my Bachelor's Thesis. Graduation is in three weeks and I feel so ridiculously under-prepared and I don't have the brain space to be thinking of this shit when I'm supposed to be focusing on winning this weekend. Fuck!"
"Okay, deep breaths," Sam says calmly, guiding Dean's head between his knees as he starts to hyperventilate. "There you go, it's gonna be okay." He rubs Dean's shoulders, trying to knead out the tension with his fingers. "Okay just listen to my voice. Close your eyes," he starts, and Dean turns his head to peer at him quizzically. "Just go with me here, my dad taught me this," Sam tells him, lightly pushing Dean's head back down between his knees. "Close your eyes, and think of the color black. Think about being surrounded by black. There's nothing, no colors, no walls, no floor, no ceiling. Just black all around. Keep deep breathing." Sam continues to massage the knots in Dean's shoulders and neck, and he feels Dean slowly start to relax under his hands. "Feeling better?"
"Much," Dean whispers from between his knees. The white leaves his knuckles as he unclasped his hands. Slowly he lifts his head and turns to Sam. "Thanks, Sammy, that really helped." He leans over to kiss Sam quickly.
"Just focus on the game tonight. Clear everything else out of your head and just play. You'll be great, babe, I just know it." Sam holds Dean's face between his hands and stares into his emerald eyes. "I love you. You're amazing, and talented, and the best damn hockey player this school has ever seen. Got it?"
"Got it," Dean replies with a smirk, his eyes crinkling. "Alright, let's get out of here." He stands from the bed, pulling Sam with him. Dean hoists his hockey bag over his shoulder and follows Sam out of his room and down the hallway. "Yo, Cas! You almost ready?!"
"Yeah, we'll meet you there!" Cas replies through his bedroom door. Sam grabs up both of Dean's sticks and the roll of tape.
"I'll do the spares when I get there," Dean tells him. Sam pulls the door shut behind him and they go out to Sam's truck. Dean throws his bag and sticks into the back of the pickup. Sam reaches over as he drives and squeezes Dean's bouncing knee. Dean smiles over at him, the goes back to staring out the window, his brow furrowed. Sam drops Dean at the players entrance of the arena and parks his truck. He waits in the truck for Meg and Cas to arrive, and he follows them in, taking Meg with him to go find good seats for the game.
Looking around the arena, Sam counts at least eight men in various business suits and NHL jackets, and guesses them to be scouts. He doesn't realize his legs are bouncing until Meg whaps his arm and tells him to calm down. Taking a deep breath, he tries to relax. Meg squeezes his hand and smiles at him, and they both wait anxiously for the game to start.
Half an hour later, the puck drops, and its an all out war from that moment on. Sam and Meg spend much of the game on their feet with the rest of the fans, shouting at the refs for making bad calls, shouting at the players, cheering for goals. Meg cringes into Sam's shoulder as Cas is slammed against the glass in front of them. However, he gets up, shakes his head, and gives Meg a smile before skating back into the melee. Dean sets Cas up for the first goal of the game. Gabe assists Dean for the second only three minutes later. The other team manages to sneak in a few goals as well. At the start of the third period, the score is 6-5, in favor of the other team.
There's a pile up of players behind the opposing net and Cas is checked from behind, banging his helmet against the board as he goes down. Dean slams the guy into the board, and another opponent swings a fist, connecting with the side of Dean's helmet. In a flash, a brawl breaks out, with all ten players and the opposing goalie duking it out as the refs rush in to break up the fight. Two opponents and Zeke end up in the penalty box after Zeke pulls a players jersey over his head and punches him in the stomach. Coach Singer is screaming at his players from the bench, his face turning red.
The refs finally manage to get the players under control. Cas scoops his helmet from the ice and jams it back on his head angrily. Dean skates past the bench and is handed a back-up stick by Coach. Play resumes with the Hunters on a 4-on-3 power play with less than two minutes left in the game.
Cas passes up to Dean and he takes off down the ice, Cas and Zeke close behind him. Just as he's crossing the blue line into the other team's end, a defenseman catches up to him and checks him with his shoulder. The player swings up with the handle of his stick and catches Dean under his shield, smashing the end into Dean's nose. Dean's vision tunnels and he drops like a brick.
Sam jumps to his feet with the rest of the crowd, everyone banging fists against the glass and shouting at the opposing player. Dean curls onto his side, trying to hold his nose with his gloves. The ref blows the whistle and play stops as the coaches run out onto the ice. Sam leans his forehead against the glass as the players on the ice take a knee and the crowd goes silent. After a minute Dean rolls up onto his knees, Coach Singer holding a towel under Dean's nose to catch the blood that's pouring from it. There's drops of blood on the ice underneath him. Finally, Dean takes the towel and begins to stand. The crowd applauds as he gets up, talking to Coach and nodding as he skates towards the bench, still holding the towel under his flowing nose. Sam lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
The ref ejects the opposing player from the game as some of the other players scrape the blood from the ice with their blades. After checking on Dean, the ref resumes the game. Dean's nose is no longer bleeding, and he begins arguing with Coach to let him go back in. With an exasperated sigh, Coach agrees, and shouts to one of the younger players to switch up. Dean grins as he hops over the board onto the ice and takes off after the puck.
Zeke intercepts a pass, then drops the puck behind him to Cas, and they take off towards the opponent's end of the rink. Cas passes sideways to Dean, who passes back to Gabe as an opponent comes after him. Gabe passes it up to Cas, and Dean sets himself up in front of the net. He receives the puck from Cas and immediately flips it up, shooting it over the goalie's right shoulder and into the top corner of the net. The team quickly celebrates before setting up for the next puck drop. The score is tied at 6-6 when the Hunters get control of the puck again.
Cas passes to Dean and he takes off towards the other end of the ice. Seeing his opportunity, he swerves around a defenseman and lines himself up for the shot. Winding back with his stick, he shoots. The crowd collectively draws in a breath as the puck flies towards the goal. The puck just barely manages to make it over the goalie's pad and into the net, and the arena erupts in cheers. The team starts to pound against the boards and ice with their sticks as the clock runs down the final seconds of the game. Dean is slammed into a hug from behind by Cas, closely followed by the rest of the team as everyone tosses their sticks, helmets, and gloves to the ice. Confetti rains from the ceiling, making the ice hard to skate on as the guys slam into the boards, hugging eachother and cheering at the tops of their lungs. Coach Singer and the four other assistant coaches come running onto the ice and the team envelopes them into a massive group hug.
After celebrating under the blaring school theme song, the Hunters line up at center ice and shake hands with the opposing team. Different camera crews come onto the ice, sportscasters walking delicately to keep from tripping while on camera. Dean interviews for ESPN, laughing as Cas plops a championship hat on his head. The NCAA Men's Ice Hockey Competing Chair comes onto the ice bearing a large gold-plated trophy, which he hands to Dean. The team gathers around him as he hoists it into the air, all reaching out to touch the trophy. Dean passes the trophy to Coach and everyone cheers, Coach Singer beaming from ear to ear. Dean slings his arm over Coach's shoulder as they stand center ice with the NCAA Chairs. The ESPN interviewers ask Coach and Dean more questions about their season before the team poses around the trophy for the Championship photo. Dean is given a plaque for his award as Most Outstanding Player. Finally they all make their way to the locker room, still cheering and clapping each other on the backs.
When Dean comes out of the locker room, Sam is leaning against the wall, playing a game on his cell phone. Dean drops his duffel and leans his stick against the wall as Sam looks up. They both pause for a minute, grinning at each other, before Sam takes one large step forward and wraps Dean in a hug. Dean laughs as Sam squeezes him, lifting him off his feet. His lips find Sam's as he's lowered back to the ground, and Sam presses against him, nearly bending him backwards.
Dean hears a high-pitched squeak from behind him, and breaks away from the kiss in surprise. He turns his head, arms still wrapped around Sam's neck, and sees his parents. His father is looking at him skeptically, while his mother turns red and covers her mouth with her fingertips. Dean quickly unwinds himself from Sam's embrace and squares his shoulders, standing up straight like his father taught him.
"Hi sweetie," Dean's mother says quietly, and Dean bends as she brings her hands up to his shoulders. He wraps his arms around her waist as she kisses him lightly on the cheek.
"Hey mom. Dad," Dean says, shaking the hand his father holds out. Sam looks on in confusion at the family reunion taking place in front of him. Dean takes a step back and bumps against Sam's chest. He turns slightly, reaching back to pull Sam forward.
"Mom, Dad, this is Sam Remington," Dean tells them, and Sam leans forward to shake both of their hands. "My boyfriend," he adds, putting subtle emphasis on the title. "Sam, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester."
"Nice to meet you," Sam replies, making eye contact with both of Dean's parents and smiling brightly at them.
"It was a good game, dear," Mrs. Winchester tells Dean sweetly.
"Your footwork at the net needs improving. And I'm sure the scouts were not impressed with the dramatics over a little nosebleed," Mr. Winchester says coolly, not glancing up from his Blackberry.
"That guy almost broke his nose!" Sam starts, surprised at the attitude Dean's father is showing towards his son. Dean puts his hand on Sam's chest, giving a small shake of his head.
"I'll work on it," Dean tells his father tersely. His mother looks back and forth between them before reaching over to pat Dean's arm lightly.
"You'll be at the lake house this weekend, won't you darling?" she asks Dean, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.
"Of course," Dean replies, smiling softly at his mother before glaring up at his father and adding, "we'll both be there." Dean's father returns the glare, but doesn't comment.
"Okay sweetie, we have to go pick up your sister. We'll see you next weekend!" Mrs. Winchester exclaims, fussing over Dean's hair before giving him another kiss on the cheek. His father puts out his hand for Dean to shake.
"It was nice to meet you," Sam says, also sticking out his hand, but Mr. Winchester either doesn't hear, or ignores him.
"We will see you next weekend, then," Mr. Winchester says to Dean before he stalks away, his long coat whipping behind him. It reminds Sam of a villain's cape. Mrs. Winchester opens her mouth as if to say something, but closes it quickly before nodding at Sam and turning to follow her husband. As soon as they are out of sight around the corner, Dean visibly sags. He turns to see Sam still standing next to him, his hand still outstretched, with a quizzical look on his face.
Sam laughs in disbelief as Dean leans against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other reaching out to take Sam's.
"I'm sorry about that, my parents, uh," Dean starts, not really sure how to explain. "My dad's an asshole. But he always has been, so I guess I'm kinda used to it? And my mom just follows along. God, I'm sorry. I should have warned you they might be here."
"Might? Why wouldn't they be? This is the biggest game of your career!" Sam asks, astonished.
"Uh, yeah. My dad's pretty busy. There's some big stuff in the works with Belgium. So I wasn't sure if they were going to be able to make it down from Connecticut." Dean replies, shrugging before pushing himself off the wall and leaning down to pick up his bag. Sam grabs it before Dean can and slings it over his shoulder. Dean smiles as he grabs his sticks, then tangles his fingers around Sam's as they head out of the arena. "Oh, sorry about saying you were coming to the lake house this weekend. I just wanted to piss my dad off. You don't have to come if you don't want to."
"Do you want me to?" Sam asks, looking down at their hands swinging between them.
"Absolutely, I was going to bring it up tonight at dinner. I don't think I can make it through the annual Winchester Repeating Arms Gala without you," Dean tells him. Suddenly, Sam stops, and Dean is jerked to a halt by their connected hands.
"Wait, you're a Winchester, as in WINCHESTER? As in the Winchesters that started the Winchester Repeating Arms Company? As in my Dad's favorite gun makers?" Sam asks incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I didn't realize it was a big deal," Dean replies sheepishly.
"I have to tell my dad. He's gonna freak out!" Sam laughs, starting to walk again.
"So you'll come? My sister will be there, and I know she's dying to meet you," Dean adds, walking fast to keep up with Sam's long strides.
"Of course I'll come!" Sam replies, hoisting Dean's bag into the back of his truck. "Hey, we should meet up with everyone for dinner. I guess they're all going to Andiamo's for pizza."
"Perfect." Dean reaches over after Sam pulls out of the parking spot, weaving his fingers between Sam's and leaning back against his seat.
Friday afternoon finds Sam riding shotgun in Dean's Impala, barreling down the highway towards Colorado, and Dean's parent's Lake House. They have the windows rolled down, and Sam lets his hand drift lazily in the wind, his other entwined with Dean's on the seat between them. Dean has a Led Zeppelin tape in the cassette player and is crooning along to "Ramble On", drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and playing air drums, making Sam laugh as he pounds against the seat with their joined hands.
Dean squeezes Sam's fingers, and Sam looks over to meet his eye. Dean keeps singing as Sam smiles over at him and returns the squeeze.
"So the Gala thing isn't until Sunday?" Sam asks loudly over the music. Dean reaches up to turn it down before winding his fingers between Sam's again.
"Yeah, Sunday night, there's a big dinner, a band, and a bunch of drunk, rich, white people donating money to whatever charity my mom picked out this year. Dancing, too," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. "You packed your tux right?"
"Yeah it's in the bag with yours," Sam replies, then asks, "what are we doing the rest of the weekend then?"
"Well tonight we'll have dinner with my parents and Jo. She's dying to meet you. And tomorrow I thought we could just relax on the lake."
"Sounds great. Which lake is it? How much farther?"
"Lake Catamount. It's like 3 more hours. You need to stop for anything?" Dean inquires, meeting Sam's eye again.
"No, I'm okay," Sam replies, not breaking eye contact. Dean winks at him, and Sam laughs. "Eyes on the road, babe."
Dean chuckles, reaching for the stereo and cranking it up to an ear spliting level and belting out the chorus to Zep's "Traveling Riverside Blues".
"Holy shit. Dude, that is not a lake house. That's a lake mansion!" Sam exclaims, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look as Dean pulls down the long driveway. They had passed through the stone gateway moments ago, and were now winding through a thick copse of trees. Dean merely shrugs in response, pulling his car around the house to the garage.
He parks the car in front of the large 4-car garage and they both climb out. Sam lets out a low whistle as he spins in a circle, taking in his surroundings. The lake house is settled deep in the woods surrounding Lake Catamount, and it nestles against a curve in the lake. Sam can see through the trees at either side of the house to the the blue waters, rippling slightly in the breeze.
The house itself is light stone and dark wood, two stories tall. The large wooden front door must be 10 feet tall, Sam guesses as he and Dean approach it. It's topped by a massive stained glass window. Dean presses down on the massive iron handle and shoves the door inward. He follows it over the threshold and Sam nearly bumps into Dean as he steps in behind him. Dean stops in the foyer and holds out his arms, then rushes forward to envelope a stout, grey-haired, African-American woman.
"Ooh boy, it is good to see you!" she exclaims, holding Dean away from her to get a better look. "You get more handsome each time I see you, I swear it." Dean beams down at her before bending to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Now don't be rude, introduce me to this boyfriend I've heard so much about!"
Dean blushes, turning towards Sam.
"Missouri, this is Sam Remington. Sam, this is Missouri, she's the head housekeeper here, and she practically raised me and Jo," Dean explains.
""Jo and I," Missouri corrects, tutting at Dean before crossing the space between them and giving Sam a hug, which he eagerly returns. "My goodness you are a big one!" she exclaims, laughing at the way Sam has to stoop to hug her. "And quite the looker!"
Now it's Sam's turn to blush as he runs a hand through his hair. Missouri turns to Dean and gestures openly to the foyer.
"Go give Sam a tour. And your sister got here about an hour ago, she should be arou-"
"DEAN!" comes a shout from somewhere deep in the house. A moment later a young blonde woman is bounding down the stairs, two at a time. She leaps at Dean, and he catches her, spinning in a circle before stopping. He hugs her tightly for a long minute, her sneakers a foot from the floor, his head buried in her neck, before finally lowering her to her feet. Missouri sighs, patting a hand over her heart.
Breaking away from the hug, Jo turns to Sam and pegs him with a thousand-watt smile.
"Damn, Dean, he's a hottie!" she says, winking at Sam as she bumps Dean's hip with her own. She saunters over to Sam and puts out her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you!"
"You too, I've heard so much about you," Sam replies, shaking her hand. "Only good things, of course," he adds, smiling at Dean over her head.
"Why don't you two give Sam the tour, then come on down to the kitchen. I made your favorite Dean," Missouri says, and Dean perks up. It reminds Sam of a puppy when it hears the word 'treat', and he laughs.
"Missouri makes the best pecan pie in the world," Jo explains, and Dean nods his agreement. "Come on, we'll show you around."
Dean throws his arm around Jo's shoulder and they head off, Sam close behind.
"Wow, this place is incredible," Sam gushes, standing next to Dean on the huge deck that spans the back of the house. He stares around at the incredible view. Down a small bluff is a sandy beach, surrounded by big boulders and tall grasses. The water in the lake is crystal under the slowly setting sun, rays of yellow and white beaming from the surface. Large birds swoop lazily through the sky against the backdrop of Colorado mountains. To Sam, it looks like a scene from a movie. Everything looks wild and perfect.
Dean watches Sam's face rather than the scenery. He can't help but grin at the look on Sam's face, and he reaches over to wraps his arms around Sam's waist. Sam pulls him close with an arm around his shoulder, the other coming around Dean's chest in a sideways hug.
"It's beautiful here, Dean. Thank you for bringing me," Sam says, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder would disrupt the calm serenity.
Dean doesn't reply, just leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. They stand watching the sun as it slowly drops towards the treeline.
Some time later, Jo sticks her head out through the sliding glass door and asks, "you two lovebirds coming, or what?"
"Pie!" Dean remembers, and Sam releases him as he darts into the house. Sam sighs as he takes one more look at the gorgeous sunset before turning to follow his boyfriend and the smell of homemade pecan pie.
Dinner that night is served in the formal dining room. Sam is still blown away by the size of the house. The large dining room is finished in dark wood, polished to a glistening sheen. In the center of the room is a magnificent wooden table surrounded by 14 hand carved chairs. They all sit at one end of the table, Dean's father taking the head seat, with Dean's mother to his right and Dean to his left. Sam sits next to Dean, Jo next to her mother. They eat the first course, a flavorful soup, in awkward silence before Dean's father finally speaks.
"How are your grades this semester? I hope you're still maintaining your four-point," he says, looking at Dean as his bowl is cleared from in front of him by a young brunette girl. Dean clears his throat, setting down his spoon before answering. Sam catches Jo rolling her eyes in his peripheral vision.
"Of course, I have a four-point-two."
"Good. Scouts look at all of that. Has anyone contacted you yet?"
"Not yet, but season's only just ending. I'm sure I'll hear soon."
"I had assumed you would have heard from Pittsburgh by now," Mr. Winchester adds, raising an eyebrow at Dean, who shrugs one shoulder, looking down at his plate as Molly, the chef, adds vegetables to the steak and potatoes there.
"Isn't Alan coming to the Gala on Sunday dear?" Mrs. Winchester asks sweetly over her glass of red wine. "He owns the Pittsburgh Penguins," she adds, glancing at Sam.
"Yes he is. I'll have a chat with him, and be sure to introduce yourself, Dean," Mr. Winchester adds sternly before picking up his fork and knife and effectively ending the conversation.
"So Sam," Jo starts loudly, "what are your plans for the future? Dean tells me that you're looking to go to Law School?"
"Yeah, uh, that's the plan." Sam tells her nervously.
"Where are you applying?" she asks, and Sam sets down his fork gently, looking over at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
"Well, actually, I've just been offered a full ride to Stanford." Dean drops his fork and looks over at him, surprised. "They just confirmed this morning," Sam adds, turning to face him. "I didn't want to say anything until it was for sure."
"Well that's awesome! Congratulations, Sam!" Jo beams at him from across the table while Dean just stares at him. Sam turns to thank Jo for her kind words before looking back at Dean.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to make a big deal of something that maybe wasn't going to happen." Dean just nods in response, picking up his fork again.
"I know the Dean of Law over at Stanford, a Mr. Pickernell. He's a good friend of the family. Did you know his father was the Dean of Law before him?" Mr. Winchester mentions, and it seems to Sam that Dean's father always has a name to drop.
"No, sir, I didn't know that," Sam replies, feigning interest. Mr. Winchester carries on about who he knows where for the remainder of the main course and well into dessert. Dean keeps his mouth shut, focusing on the piece of pie in front of him while his brain whirls a mile a minute. Jo kicks him under the table and he looks up to see her mouthing "is everything okay" silently, concern coloring her features. He just nods, looking back at his plate where the destroyed piece of pie still waits for him.
Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester stand from the table and excuse themselves to the parlor for tea, and Mr. Winchester's usual after dinner cigar. Jo gives Dean another concerned look before she heads off towards her bedroom.
Dean stands and starts to walk out of the dining room, but pauses in the doorway. Sam takes that as his cue to follow, and he does. Dean winds his way up the grand staircase and down the hallway to the guest room where Sam is staying for the weekend, not wanting to upset Dean's parents by them sleeping in the same room. After Sam steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him Dean turns to face him.
"So you're going to Stanford? Were you going to tell me? God, Sam I didn't even know you applied!" Dean shouts, trying but failing to keep his voice down. "Fuck. I don't mean that I'm not happy for you, that you got offered a full ride to Stanford. I mean, you could have told me before dropping a bomb like that at dinner."
"Why is that so surprising? Graduation is in two weeks, Dean. I've got to go somewhere. And unlike you, my family can't just pay for me to go wherever the hell I want!"
"Don't turn this into a money thing! That has nothing to do with it and you know it! Holy shit! I can't believe you just said that!" He turns away from Sam, rubbing the back of his neck and looking out the window at the moon reflecting off the lake.
"Oh my god, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that I've got to go wherever I can get a full ride, because I can't afford it otherwise. Goddamnit. Can we please just not go there right now?," Sam says quietly, coming up behind Dean and wrapping his arms around his waist. He leans his forehead onto Dean's shoulder, and Dean sighs.
"You're right. We can talk about it later," Dean replies, stepping out of Sam's embrace. "I'm going to bed." He storms out of the room, pulling the door open wide and slamming it shut behind him. He stomps down the hall, into his own room, and slams that door too.
What feels like an eternity later, Dean is still laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He groans, then gets out of bed and pulls a pair of sweats over his boxers. Grabbing a zip-up hoodie from his bag, he quietly pulls open the door to his room. Zipping the hoodie up over his bare chest, he pads down the hallway to Sam's room.
"Dean?" he hears behind him, and freezes with his hand on the door knob. He turns around to see Jo poking her head out of her room.
"Sorry, Jo, just go back to sleep," Dean whispers, "I was just going to talk to Sam."
"Were you guys fighting earlier? Is everything okay?"
"No, not really," Dean admits with a huff, and smiles when Jo swings her door open wider, inviting him in for a late night chat like they used to do when they were growing up. He pushes her door shut behind him and follows her over to the window seat. They sit opposite each other, Jo folding her legs under her.
"What happened?" she asks quietly.
"The whole Stanford thing, I had no idea he even applied there."
"Have you guys talked about what you're gonna do after graduation?"
"Well, no. I thought we were just enjoying things the way they were," Dean shrugs, looking down at his hands. He twirled the drawstring of his sweatpants between his fingers.
"Dean, you have to think of it from his point of view, too. Your future is pretty much set. Play for the NHL, take over the family business. But Sam, he's gotta plan ahead. What's so bad about him going to Stanford?"
"Nothing! It's not that at all. I'm so happy for him, that's such a big deal. I just wish he had mentioned it to me."
"Why? Are you planning to stay together after graduation?" Jo asks, genuinely curious.
"We haven't talked about that either," Dean admits, "but I want to. I mean, if he wants to. But now he's going to California, and you know dad will flip a shit if I don't play for Pittsburgh. It's his favorite team. And it sound like by the end of the Gala he's going to have Alan forcing his scouts to draft me. It's just…" Dean trails off, picking at the seam of the cushion they were sitting on.
"Just what? Who says you have to play for Pittsburgh? If you don't want to, you don't have to. Who cares what Dad thinks. Are things really that serious with Sam, though, that you're going to base your decision off where he's heading?"
"Honestly, yeah. Jo, I think he's it for me."
"Wait, like 'The One'?" she asks, scooting forward until her knees are pressed against Dean's. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I've been thinking about it ever since he said he's going to Stanford. I'd follow him anywhere. Fuck, that sounds so cheesy. But I would. I really would." Dean finally looks up and chuckles at Jo's expression. She's got a shit-eating grin splitting her face from ear to ear.
"Oh my god!" she wraps her arms around his neck and squeals in his ear. "This is so exciting!"
"Jo, keep it down, you'll wake the neighbors!"
"I'm just so happy right now!" she exclaims, getting up from the window seat and doing a little dance. Dean laughs at her, reluctantly standing as she yanks on his hand and wrapping her in a hug. She finally calms down and he releases her. "So are you going to go apologize or what?" she demands, putting a hand on her hip.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. That's where I was headed when you had to stick your nose in," he says as he passes her, cuffing her lightly on the shoulder. She sticks her tongue out at him, then grabs a pillow from the window seat and throws it at his head.
Dean laughs as he ducks the pillow and pulls her door shut behind him. He pads turns to Sam's door and slowly twists the knob. Wincing as the door creaks, he swings it open just enough to slide himself inside.
"Sammy?" he whispers, creeping up to the end of the bed. Sam is fast asleep, curled around a pillow. Dean smiles, then sneaks around to the side of the bed. Tossing his hoodie to the floor, he slides under the covers behind Sam, wrapping his arm around Sam's waist and intertwining their fingers. He pulls Sam against his chest and settles into the pillow behind his head.
"Goodnight, Sammy."
Sam wakes up to hot breath on his neck and one hairy leg sandwiched between his.
"Dean?" he whispers, rolling over. Dean jolts awake, blinking rapidly.
"Ah, shit, I fell asleep."
"What are you doing in here? Aren't we going to get in trouble for sleeping in the same room?" Sam asks, remembering how adamantly Missouri had pointed out that Sam was to sleep in the guest room.
"Who cares?" Dean replies with a shrug. "I came in here to apologize and you were sleeping, so I laid down with you. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"You were going to apologize? I was going to apologize."
"What for? Thinking of your future? Planning ahead? I'm the one who needs to apologize. My whole life has been planned out for me since day one. Hockey and guns, the family business. I don't really think about things like normal people do. I should have known you would have plans for after graduation."
"Well, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner," Sam replied, leaning in to plant a kiss on Dean's lips. "And that I said that thing about the money, that was stupid. I know that's not who you are."
"It's okay, don't worry about it," Dean told him, shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly. He returns Sam's chaste kiss before rolling out of bed. "I've got to get out of here before, heaven forbid, my parents think I slept with another man!" Dean says with a fake gasp, clutching his heart dramatically. "I'll see you at breakfast," he adds with a wink before opening the door and sticking his head out. Once he saw the coast was clear, he dashed quickly back to his room. Sam quickly pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then bends down to pick up the hoodie Dean left on the floor. Sniffing it, he grins as he pulls it on, enveloping himself in Dean's scent.
Breakfast is served on the back deck, pancakes and fruit piled high on platters. Dean is already at the table when Sam arrives, a stack of pancakes on his plate, drizzled in maple syrup. A slice of melon and some grapes are on a second plate next to it. Jo is also there, sawing away at her own stack of pancakes. Dean winks at him, then gestures to the chair next to him with a tilt of his head.
"Good morning, Jo, Dean." Sam sits next to Dean and reaches for the platter of fruit. Jo mumbles her greeting around a mouthful of pancake. Dean just leans over and bumps Sam with his shoulder. Sam fills his plate with fruit, then pours himself a cup of coffee. Breakfast passes in silence as everyone enjoys their food. Leaning back in his seat, Sam tosses a grape in the air. Dean tilts his head back and catches it in his mouth, then grins over at Sam, making Jo burst into a fit of laughter.
"Where are mom and dad?" Dean asks her. Their parents hadn't joined them for breakfast, which is unusual.
"They went over to the club to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow night."
"Oh okay. Is Mark still coming? I figured we could all go out on the boat." Dean says, standing and stretching before downing the last of his coffee. Jo's boyfriend Matt was making the drive up this morning after he got out of work.
"He should be here soon, maybe an hour," Jo replies as she also stands, then heads into the house through the sliding door.
"I'm gonna go for a run," Sam tells Dean, plucking another grape from its stem and tossing it into his mouth. "You want to come?"
"It's 7am, Sammy. You're such a workout freak," Dean groans, rolling his neck back and fourth. "But yes, I'll come."
Ten minutes later, Dean ambles onto the back deck, sneakers in hand, to find Sam already stretching. Dean pauses to admire the shape of Sam's ass in his shorts as he bends over and wraps his hands around his ankles. Dean walks his fingers along Sam's spine, counting the moles as he passes them. Sam rights himself, flashing Dean a megawatt grin.
"Come on, slowpoke, get your shoes on," Sam admonishes him, stretching his arms over his head. Dean grumbles as he bends to put on and tie his sneakers. As he stands, Sam steps closer, and Dean's fingers instinctually glide over his stomach, waving against the ripples of muscle.
"Follow me," Dean whispers in his ear, his teeth nipping at Sam's earlobe. Dean knows exactly where they're going to run to.
"Where the hell are we going?" Sam pants out between breaths. Both of them are dripping with sweat in the 90 degree weather, the sun beating down on their shoulders. Dean had long since removed his t-shirt, tucking it into the back of his shorts.
"Almost there, it's just around this bend," Dean replies over his shoulder, leading Sam down a well worn path through the woods. One last curve in the trail and Dean skids to a halt, bending over to grip his knees and breathing heavily. Sam stops next to him, panting, and rests a hand on his back.
"I've got to get you running more," he teases Dean as he looks around. They're standing in a clearing of trees. There's a large pond surrounded by moss-covered boulders. "Woah, this place is awesome."
"Yeah, Jo and I used to come swimming here as kids," Dean replies, head still hanging down and shoulders hunched. He groans as he stands straight and looks over at Sam. "I thought I might need a swim after all this godforsaken exercise," Dean tells him, holding his shoulder for support and kicking off his shoes. He bends to pull off his socks and looks over to see Sam following suit. Dean bites his lower lip between his teeth and sidles up to Sam, running his hands over Sam's sweat-slicked stomach. Sam wraps one hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulls him in for a chaste kiss, Dean's scruff tickling his chin. He can taste the salt on Dean's lips and darts out with his tongue for more. Dean dips his fingers inside the waistband of Sam's shorts and shoves them to the ground. His own soon follow as Sam's hands press under the tight fabric of his boxer briefs.
Dean pulls at the front of Sam's underwear, smirking as he frees Sam's erection. He wraps his palm around it and Sam moans. He backs Sam towards the water, pushing Sam's boxers down further with his other hand. Sam doesn't break the connection of their lips, his other hand coming up to card through Dean's hair as he sucks on Dean's tongue. When they reach the edge of the pool, Dean breaks away, dropping his boxers to the ground. He grins over his shoulder at Sam before cannonballing into the water. Sam shouts as warm water douses him, then tosses his boxers over his shoulder and jumps in.
"Holy shit," he asks, rubbing his feet over the hot rocks at the bottom of the pool, "why is it so warm?"
"It's a hot spring, one of the only ones around the lake big enough to swim in. Feels good, doesn't it?" Dean replies, treading water in the middle of the pool. The water comes up to his neck, and in the middle he can't touch at all without his head being underwater. He paddles the few strokes over to Sam and Sam reaches out to grab his hips, pulling him in close. Dean wraps his legs around Sam's hips, and Sam's hands under his ass gripping tightly. Their mouths smash together, Sam's tongue probing Dean's mouth. His fingers press against Dean, and Dean moans into this open mouth.
"Dean, I want to, yeah," Sam pants out, his breath growing heavy again as Dean grinds against his erection. When Dean nods, Sam's fingers press into him, the water acting as a makeshift lube. Dean gasps, fumbling to reach between their stomachs and wrap his hand around Sam. "Can I, uh, can I top?" Sam asks, blushing as he pulls his head back to look in Dean's eyes.
"Of course you can, I want you to," Dean replies truthfully, then leans forward to nibble along Sam's jaw line. Sam adds a finger and Dean bucks against him, picking up the tempo of his hand on Sam's cock. Dean is willing to bottom for Sam, something he has never done with another man before. He holds onto Sam's shoulder as he kisses and licks the sweat from his skin, trailing kisses down his neck and across this throat. Sam's head falls back as Dean kisses and strokes him, but he continues to fuck Dean with his fingers, spreading him open wider with each stroke.
"Babe, I'm ready, come on," Dean gasps against the skin of Sam's neck, and the sensation travels straight to his cock. Grabbing Dean's ass in his hands, Sam lifts him up and lowers him onto his cock. They both moan as Sam thrusts his hips, pushing deeper inside Dean with each thrust.
"God you feel so good, Sammy," Dean breathes into Sam's ear, using his grip on Sam's shoulder and his legs around Sam's waist to bounce himself up and down on Sam's cock. "So fucking good."
"Shut up," Sam growls, biting Dean's shoulder and thrusting into him even harder. He turns, pressing Dean's back against a boulder at the edge of the pool. Reaching his arms under Dean's knees, he hoists Dean's legs up into the crooks of his elbows and grasps Dean's biceps for leverage. Dean moans as Sam fucks into him and reaches between them to stroke himself. Sam devours his mouth, and their tongues clash and rub against each other.
Sam comes first, pounding into Dean in a punishing rhythm before freezing, shuddering as he unleashes inside Dean. Sam then lifts Dean farther up onto the rocks so he can lick and bite at Dean's nipple piercing, his hand taking over for Dean's as he strokes him towards orgasm. Dean comes undone as Sam closes his lips around Dean's nipple, sucking the piercing into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Sam strokes him out, and they both lay spent in a pile on the rocks. The warm water washes them as they try to regain their breathing.
"Sammy," Dean whispers, turning his head to the side and burying his nose in Sam's soaked hair. "We gotta get back, they'll be looking for us."
Sam groans as he pushes himself off Dean, falling back to float in the warm water. Dean laughs, then splashes water at him. They clamber out of the pool and pull their boxers and shorts on over their wet skin. Carrying their sneakers, they walk back to the house, barefoot in the sand.
