"Alright, nerd-boy, that's enough research! Time to have some fun!" Dean announced.
I looked up from the bestiary I was studying to where he was standing in the doorway to the library. He'd been wrapped up in some secret project for the past several days, to the point where I'd barely seen him outside of meals and in bed, and now was practically bouncing in excitement. He was wearing more than just underwear or his dead-guy robe, so he wasn't thinking of sex (for once). He was also barefoot and didn't have an over-shirt or jacket on, so he wasn't planning to go out either.
I stood and stretched before replying. "Okay, I'll bite. Does this have anything to do with whatever's turned me into a work widow lately?"
"Yeah. Uh, sorry about that—but this is totally worth it! Now c'mon, Sammy!" He grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hallway.
It didn't take long to recognize where we were heading. "Are we going back to your . . . Dean-Cave?"
"Uh-huh! We never got a chance to give it a real test drive thanks to that cursed TV, remember? Then we got sucked into dealing with Romeo-and-Juliet-with-tentacles, and I made that trip to the Apocalypse-world right after while you had to deal with that asshat Gabriel. This is the first time since then that we've had a breather." He pushed the door open and gestured me inside. "I spent the last few days making some improvements. Whaddya think?"
As I looked around, it was clear that Dean had accomplished a lot since the last time I'd been here. A textured dark brown carpet now covered the floor, the separate plaid recliners had been replaced by a black leather reclining loveseat with a whiskey barrel to either side as end tables, and an even larger TV sat on the low entertainment unit and was joined by a Blu-Ray player and a couple of gaming consoles. Over by the bar, a kegerator, dorm fridge, and small portable pantry had been set up, with a microwave sitting on top of the fridge, and a shelf had been hung on the wall to hold an eclectic collection of beer and shot glasses. Additions to the décor included a Jayhawks scoreboard clock, set of Top Notch Wrestling bobbleheads, Ladyheart tour poster, replica of the Mystery Machine, and the giant rainbow slinky from Plucky's.
"Wow . . . you got all this done in what, four days?" I asked in surprise.
He shrugged modestly. "Some of this was already in the works from before, like shit I'd found on Craig's List or at consignment shops and just needed to pick up. The rest was all elbow grease. Like I told you before, if it's important enough, you make the time. The only thing I really splurged on was the new TV."
"It's still pretty amazing! You didn't have to do it all by yourself though—I would've gladly helped out if you'd asked," I told him.
"That woulda ruined the surprise, genius. Here, take off your shoes and check this out!" He stepped further into the room and dug his toes into the carpet.
I slipped off my shoes and socks and followed suite. The carpet was quite soft, and . . . "Dude, is this heated?"
My brother grinned at my reaction. "I know, right? The carpet was a remnant I managed to get for pretty cheap and then cut to size, and I installed those radiant heat rolls underneath. Now we can walk around barefoot in here without freezing our damn toes off. I'm thinking 'bout doing this in our bedroom too, but I wanna get your opinion on what carpet to get in there."
"I'm certainly up for that! I gotta ask though—what's up with the new poster? I thought you couldn't stand Ladyheart."
"Yeah, still haven't changed my opinion of hair metal. But this room is for you too, so I got that and some albums from them, Bon Jovi, and a coupla other bands you like," he admitted, nodding towards the shelves of records and cassettes.
I looked him over, at his green eyes sparkling and freckled cheeks flushing with enthusiasm, at the laugh lines deepening around his fine features as he smiled. His tawny hair was still tousled and damp from his recent shower, his fair skin scrubbed and fresh-smelling. The faded Metallica t-shirt he was wearing clung to his broad shoulders while baring his muscular arms, while his worn jeans hugged his lean hips and curved ass. In short, he was simply irresistible.
"This room is even more awesome than before, and I'm thrilled that you added stuff for me too. So now let me show you just how much I appreciate your hard work!" I pulled him closer by his belt loops and bent my head to capture his lips in a heated kiss.
Dean leaned in and reciprocated eagerly for a moment before reluctantly drawing back. "As much as I like where this is going, man, it's gonna hafta wait until after we properly inaugurate the Dean-Cave. Speaking of, which do you think is better—Dean-Cave or Fortress of Dean-itude? I wanna make a sign for the door, but I can't decide which to use."
"Dean-Cave definitely, because Superman is a dick. Besides, you know the rule: always be yourself, unless you can be Batman—then always be Batman," I responded.
He smirked. "You're right, and we already know that I'm Batman. So the Dean-Cave it is! Okay, help me grab the snacks."
He headed over to the bar and started microwaving some popcorn, then filled two Star Wars pint glasses from the kegerator. I meanwhile pulled a bag of peanut M&Ms, box of Mike & Ike, and package of Twizzlers from the pantry and brought them and the beer over to the loveseat. He dumped the cooked popcorn into a bowl, added finely-ground salt and melted clarified butter, and carried that over as well, along with some napkins.
Once we were settled in together on the loveseat, I commented, "Damn, this is comfortable! You get this at the consignment place in Lebanon?"
"Yeah, they gave me a sweet deal for it when I traded in the two recliners. It ain't real leather, of course, and it's a bit worn in places, but the frame is sturdy and mechanisms sound," he said. "I figured this would be cozier than the separate chairs."
"Just admit it—you want to cuddle," I teased. "Dean Winchester is a big manly man who wuvs hugs!"
"So sue me, dickhead. Just saying that it's easier to move on to the Netflix and chill part of the evening if we ain't three feet apart. But hey, if you wanna end tonight with just your hand for company, keep it up!" my brother mock-threatened.
"Alright, alright!" I raised my hands in surrender. "So, do I get any say in what we're watching tonight?"
"Not this time, but don't bitch—you should like what I picked out." He pressed Play on the remote, and the opening credits for Hero came up on the TV. "I still say that Chuck Norris would kick Jet Li's ass, but he was pretty good in The Expendables and Romeo Must Die. Plus these wuxia films are usually badass!"
I smiled at him before twining our fingers together and laying my head on his shoulder. As we watched the movie, he occasionally reached up to run his fingers through my hair, though his attention remained riveted on the screen. I focused on the film too, though I still stroked his thigh idly throughout. I wisely refrained from commenting when I heard quiet sniffling during the death scenes at the end.
Once the final credits started to roll, Dean exclaimed, "Dude, that was fucking awesome! You thought it was awesome too, right?"
"I agree, this was great—up there with Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. You did good, man. And thanks for sharing this with me—not just the movie tonight, but planning this room for me too." I leaned over to give him a grateful kiss.
He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "It ain't no big deal. Most of the stuff in here is more fun with someone else, and I'd rather spend time with you anyway. You should do something like this for yourself too, Sam. There are plenty of extra bedrooms and storerooms in this section of the Bunker, so you oughta take one and turn it into a—a study or something!"
"Dean, I'm pretty sure you've noticed we already have a giant library. It's practically the first room when you walk through the front door, after all," I pointed out dryly.
"Yeah, but the library is for work, and I'm talking about someplace where you can read for fun. You can have a section for your books on true crime and serial killers, and get as many Harry Potter, Tolkien, and other novels as you want. Plus a big comfy armchair or bean bag or another recliner, and maybe a frou-frou cappuccino machine, and whatever the hell else you want," he explained excitedly.
"Okay, I get it!" I squeezed his hand, still taken by how adorable he was even after all these years. "But just like here, that room will be for both of us, okay? I may tease you about it, but I know you like to read too. So there'll be two comfy chairs, and you can put your Vonnegut and Kerouac and even your vintage porn on the shelves right next to my books."
"Sure, we can do that. You just can't call it the Sam-Cave, 'cause I've already called dibs. Right now though, d'ya wanna go through the extras on the disc? Or watch another movie?" he asked.
Instead of replying, I stretched leisurely, intentionally extending enough that my shirts rode up past my waistband. Dean's eyes darkened at the glimpse of treasure trail disappearing into the top of my Saxx, and he abruptly maneuvered until he was straddling my lap. I placed my hands on his hips while he bent down to kiss me hungrily and readily opened my mouth when his tongue probed at my lips.
We kissed ardently for a couple minutes, and he only let me up for air to tug at the hem of my plaid shirt. I lifted up my torso enough to let him pull it and the undershirt off, and he hastily removed his t-shirt as well. I sat up so that we could resume kissing and slid my hands up to his chest to toy with his dusky nipples. He gasped and arched his back at that, and I dropped my head to suck on one of the perky nubs. He dug his hands into my hair and tugged, and I growled and bit down in response.
As I shifted my weight to get a firmer grip, I heard a creak from beneath me and quickly lifted my head. "Is this thing going to support both of us?"
It took Dean a moment to focus. "Uh . . . I dunno? It's pretty well-built, but I doubt it was designed with two guys our size going at it in mind. I may hafta reinforce it to be sure."
"In that case, why don't we move this to a more appropriate setting?" I then urged him up and stood. I kissed him again before taking his hand and leading him from the room.