The heavy baseline of Zeps 'Moby Dick' could be felt through the floor boards, up through the bed posts. Sam closed his eyes and took a slow, long suffering breath through his nose. He had gone down stairs an hour ago to tell Dean to turn it down, that he was trying to study.
Dean's response had been to tell his brother to pull the sick out of his ass and lay off the studying for one god damned night.
He was baking and needed his 'muse'- because apparently Robert Plant, at upsetting volumes, was necessary for the creative process.
It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, campus was closed, Sam didn't have a better place to go where he could bury himself in law books. All he had was his room, which wasn't far enough from that thrumming base.
He glanced sideways at his phone on the nightstand. It looked so much like a get out of jail card, and Sam wondered if it was wrong that he was even considering using it.
But that had been the lure of this game he was playing with Nick, wasn't it?
Didn't they have to spend time together to make the whole thing believable?
Hadn't Nick offered his apartment for studying?
He dialed and the phone rang through five times, Sam almost gave up, feeling stupid sitting there on his bed, waiting… waiting.
"You're on speaker phone, darlin'." Nick's voice was loud in his ear, if not particularly clear. "Careful what you say."
"Hi?" Sam asked hesitantly, not entirely sure who all he was talking to if he was on speaker.
"Say hi, guys." Nick said and suddenly there was a ruckus roar of male voices. His warm chuckle ebbed back in. "The guys say hi."
Sam held his phone back from his head, looking at it with some trepidation. "Yeah… you working tonight?"
"I am."
"Campus is closed until next week and Dean is being an ass. Is there any way I can come study at your place?"
There should have been some hesitation in Nick's answer, he should have taken some time to consider letting a relative stranger over to his apartment. There was none of that. "Of course. Swing by the shop, I'll give you my keys."
"T-thanks." The word wasn't big enough to encompass his gratitude. "I'll be by in a bit."
It was more like two bits. Dean had been unwilling to lend Sam the car, but at the same time he didn't want Sam walking or waiting for the bus. They argued until the oven timer went off and Sam took the vaguely inappropriate action of stealing the keys and leaving while his brother was distracted by a pie. He would catch hell for it when he came home later- but right then it was freedom.
He found Nick's shop right where it was supposed to be, comfortably nestled between a coffee place and an antique store. It was just a little hole in the wall, no sign out front, just the word 'open' written in red neon hanging in the window.
Sam parked, angling the boat of a car into a spot halfway down the street. He wasn't ready to meet Nick's coworkers, his friends. Granted, tomorrow he would be meeting the man's family- but that was different somehow. You don't pick your family; you do pick the people you hire to work for you. It was a different level of 'personal. Not more. Just different.
The little bell at the top of the door rang and Sam was hit with a comfortable wall of heated air. The place smelled like antiseptic and incense, which was not as stomach churning as one might think. It mixed nicely with the angry bee noise of tattoo guns and classic rock.
A small girl behind an even smaller desk looked up at Sam when he came in. She had a short black mowhawk, red, red lipstick, and a friendly smile.
"Hey, handsome." She leaned forward on the desk, thin arms folding beneath her chest as she looked up at Sam. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No, I'm here to see Nick."
Somehow her smile got even wider. "You must be Sam. He said you were coming by… but he didn't mention how cute you are." She dug under the desk and handed over a set of keys. "The boss man said if you showed up while he was still with his seven o'clock, to go ahead and give you these."
He took the keys, pulling off the one that wasn't for the man's motorcycle, handing the rest back. "Thanks." He couldn't help but smile at her. She was more the flavor of girl that Dean would typically go after, but just because Sam wasn't planning to order didn't meant he couldn't look at the menu.
"I, uh, don't actually know where he lives." He confessed after an overly long bought of eye contact.
She laughed. "I don't either. Give me a sec." She came around the desk in surprisingly tight jeans. I'll go talk to him- sorry, I can't let you in the back. Chick he's working on's not wearing a shirt." The little receptionist swaggered down to the back of the shop, passing a small mix of ladies and gents, working or getting work done on them.
Sam stood beside the desk, trying not to look too closely at the four out of six stations where people were actually paying to get ink dug into their skin. He looked instead at the walls, at the paintings. Paintings of all things. He hadn't expected to find 'art' on the walls of a tattoo shop. Some were a bit more abstract, others less so. He found he liked the one that was only a sliver of a young girl's face, with literal stars in her eyes and water beading on her cheeks and lips, catching in her lashes. It was like she was looking up into a rainstorm.
It was a nice distraction until the receptionist came back with a slip of paper covered in spidery handwriting.
"Here you go. Boss man's address. He said that you can park in his spot." She grabbed a pen from a little cup on the desk and wrote on the back of the paper, different handwriting than the front. "And this is my number, in case you have any questions… like whether or not I'm free this weekend."
Sam grinned, laughing just a little. "Uh, thanks." And he took the paper from her.
"I am, by the way. Just in case you were curious."
"Thanks." He repeated. He thought he heard laughter somewhere from the back of the shop, but when he glanced over everyone was working. "Thanks Nick!" He called, hoping his voice would carry over the music.
The apartment wasn't too hard to find as all the streets downtown were either numbered or lettered, he just had to look for the right intersection. Luckily it wasn't too far away. He followed Nick's poorly written directions, parking in a covered spot with a little white forty-three painted on it. Sam had the joy of hoofing it up three flights of stairs to the fourth floor and letting himself into his soon-to-be-fake-boyfriend's apartment.
It didn't feel so much like breaking and entering as it did just generic trespassing, despite the fact that he had been given full permission. Verbal and written. The note in fact told Sam he was welcome to anything in the fridge and to turn on the heater if it was cold.
And it was.
Sam found the thermostat then settled himself into the table, trying not to look around and pass too much judgment on the state of the apartment. It was clean, to the point it looked practically unlived in. Hardly any furniture, no clutter, no mess other than a monthly calendar sitting on the kitchen counter instead of on the wall, and an odd stack of books that seemed to have flooded out of the already packed bookcase in the corner beside the lumpy plaid couch. It was an odd apartment, not uncomfortable, just odd.
But as he dug out his textbooks he remembered the conversation that they had had their first night in the restaurant. Apparently Nick really had meant it when he said that he spent the majority of his time away from home. Saying that he 'lived at work' had seemed like an exaggeration, now it seemed a lot closer to the truth.
All of that aside- it was quiet.
Soft purr of the heater kicking in, dry sound of pages turning.
It was like he had died and gone to study-heaven.
He got lost for a few hours, ignoring Dean's phone calls, putting his cell on silence and just backing in the silence.
He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door.
"Little pig, little pig. Let me come in." Nick sang softly from out in the hall. "It's colder than a witch's tit out here."
Sam got up and unlocked the door with a grin. "I don't think that's how it goes."
"It is tonight." Nick handed Sam his helmet and shouldering his way into the apartment. "Oh, bless your soul, you beautiful man. You turned the heater on." He smiled over his shoulder, hair mashed down, cheeks ruddy. "If you start a pot of coffee while I'm in the shower I might propose."
"I will start the coffee only if you promise not to propose." Sam set the helmet on the counter and looked around the empty kitchen for a coffee maker that he didn't see. "You sure you want coffee, it's after midnight?"
"I want to be warm." Nick announced, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch. He looked marginally smaller without the leather jacket, left with just a tshirt and flannel in washed out colors. "Shower now. Coffee after. Sleep later."
"Whatever you want." Sam shrugged and started digging through the cabinets, looking for and finally finding a coffee maker. If the man wanted to be strung out on caffeine in the middle of the night then it was his choice.
Sam would be his enabler.
He was good like that.
Ten minutes later Nick was back, hair still wet from the shower, and for the first time Sam saw his arms bare. His shirt sleeves were pushed up, almost to his elbows, showing beautiful colors and complex patterns.
Sam held out a chipped mug and Nick took it with an almost greedy look in his eyes.
"How many of those do you have?" He nodded towards the tattoos curiously.
"Three." The man grunted into his mug.
Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, looking at the artistic mess.
"There were more, they sort of bled together over the years. Now I've just got one on each arm."
"Where's the third?"
Nick just winked over his mug, eyes glinting.
Sam shook his head and returned to his books.
"Aw, come on. You just going to not respond to that?"
"Studying."
"How late are you planning to be studying?"
"How late can I stay?"
Nick almost threw himself down onto the couch, sitting sideways with his long legs stretched out across the cushions, mug held high so as not to spill any. "As late as you want. I'll be up for another few hours. I'm always a bit buzzed after work." He pulled a tablet out from beneath the couch, as suitable of a hiding place as any.
"Thanks again, Nick."
"Phf." He let out a dismissive breath before setting his tablet on crooked knees and turning some movie on at a low volume. "Just le'me know if I'm being too loud."
A quiet movie was oddly more distracting that one at a normal volume might have been. Sam found himself straining to hear what was going on, trying to figure out what Nick was watching.
"Silence of the Lambs?" He asked finally.
Nick's pale eyes slid over to Sam, littlest of smiles over his mug. "I thought I would watch a holiday movie, on account of it official being Thanksgiving and all." He nodded in the direction of the wall clock. Almost one in the morning, well and officially Thursday now.
"How is Silence of the … because it's about eating." Sam answered his own question with a shake of his head. "That's not ok."
"It's festive." Was Nick's weak excuse.
"Cannibals are festive?" Sam tapped his pencil on his notebook.
"You worship in your way, I'll do it in mine."
"But… Thanksgiving isn't a religious holiday."
Nick kept up his long distant eye contact, taking in each and every flicker that moved over Sam's face. "Does this mean that you're done studying?"
Sam kind of laughed, looking away, thinking that if nothing else, allowing himself to be so easily distracted meant that it was probably time for a break- if not just time to call it quits for the night.
"Yeah. I think I've earned a break." He finally relented, tossing his pencil in between the pages of his notebook before shutting it.
"Get yourself something to drink and come over here. I'll scoot."
It wasn't a matter of scooting over, on account of the man was laying the full length of the couch. But Sam got himself half a mug's worth of coffee and came over. Nick lifted his legs and Sam didn't really consider what he was doing as he sat down where the man's feet had been. Maybe he just expected Nick to sit up like a normal person- he certainly didn't expect to suddenly have the man's legs sprawled over his.
And it wasn't that Dean didn't do this kind of thing to Sam all the time, it was just that he didn't know that he and Nick were already at this point of comfortable physical contact.
"Hey-"
"Give me a sec." Nick positioned the tablet on the coffee table, folding the case to make a nifty little stand so that it was at an angle that they could both see. "There."
Sam considered doing something about the shins that were laying over his thighs, then he realized that over the next few months the touching between the two of them was quite possibly going to get far more varied and interesting- so he decided that he would ignore it like the lesser sin that it was and just enjoy the movie.
And he did enjoy it, or at least the small portion of it that he did see before falling asleep.
Sam woke up when his shoulders were suddenly cold, a blanket he couldn't remember curling up with, slipping down to pool around his waist. He stretched and looked around the room, empty except for the morning sunlight streaming in through a little window over the kitchen sink.
He was alone on the couch with a heavy blanket and a mug of cold coffee.
Nick had tucked him in and let him sleep on his couch.
Sam found himself smiling until he remembered that he hadn't let Dean know he was going to be out over night.
Twenty three missed calls.
Eight voicemails.
Nineteen texts.
Oh, Sam wished that he hadn't pulled his phone from his pocket.
There was trouble, then there was twenty-missed-calls trouble.
He could either go straight home and face the furry that was his big brother, which could involve bodily damage-
Or he could call him back from the safety of Nick's.
Dean picked up on the first ring. "Sammy? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry, I fell asleep."
"Where the fuck did you go and why weren't you answering your god damned phone?" All the worry rushed from Dean in the wake of his understandable anger.
"I went to a friend's to study and I turned the ringer off." Sam tried not to yell back, firstly because it wouldn't help, and second because Nick was probably in his room sleeping.
"You left last night. You could have fucking called me if you were gunna' stay out all night with my car. You better not have parked her on the street or something. If someone scratched her I'm going to kill you."
"The car's fine, Dean." Sam said without even knowing for any certainty.
Dean made a frustrated sound. "You going to be home soon?"
"What time is it?" He rubbed at his face, stretching again, trying to get the kinks from his shoulders.
"Almost ten." Dean was still biting off his words, anger in each syllable.
"Sorry. Yeah. I'll be home in a bit."
"I swear to god, Sam." That was it. The whole sentence.
"Bye." Sam said hurriedly, hanging up, knowing that he had a small window to get back home that would land him between when Dean calmed down enough to be reasonable and when he started to get angry because he was still waiting.
He folded the blanket, not sure where it came from, so not knowing where to put it. He settled for the arm of the couch. The coffee cup got rinsed and left in the sink. Sam was collecting his books, shoving them back into his book bag when Nick came out of his room.
Now, despite what his brother might think or say from time to time about him- Sam had never considered himself to be particularly sentimental.
Apparently Nick stumbling around, half asleep, in flannel pants, and a Johnny Cash tshirt, was an exception. For a full grown man, heavily tattooed and with occasionally salty language- he was adorable. His eyes were bleary, squinting against the sunlight, his hair was pressed up on one side, messy from sleeping with it wet.
" 'morning." He mumbled, leaning against the door frame, rubbing sleep from one eye with the heel of his hand.
"Hey. Thanks for letting me stay over last night."
"It's part of the plan, right?"
A sinking feeling. "Oh, god. I stayed over last night."
With a 'friend' there was no implication, nothing sinister that could be inferred from that… but staying with someone you would soon be telling people you are 'dating'?
Nick stopped rubbing at his eye to fully look at Sam, a slow realization breaking over him. "Well… does this make us official?"
"It hasn't been long enough yet."
Nick started laughing.
"It's not funny. I've only known you two weeks."
Nick was all grin and no apology. "And we may as well tell people had sex last night."
"But we didn't."
"Everyone is going to assume that we did."
"But we didn't." Sam insisted. It was like arguing with a brick wall. A particularly stubborn one that refused to listen to reason.
"It only took two weeks for you to give into all those secret yearnings, Sam."
"I didn't."
"And in a few weeks when we announce that we're a couple? Who's going to believe that you stayed the night last night to just 'study'?"
"Dean will." Sam assured himself. "He trusts me."
"He trusts his trampy brother?"
"I'm not- shut up." He pulled his bag over a shoulder. "And nothing happened. I studied. That's all."
"Right…" He said in quiet disbelief. "I took a shower and then we cuddled on the couch."
"That wasn't cuddling."
Nick looked at him knowingly, sort of undermining the expression with a yawn.
"It wasn't. You're the one with the, with the crazy legs- I was just sitting there."
Nick laughed again, a low chuckle as he shrugged, arms wide in surrender. "Let's just go with it."
"No. It's too soon." Sam insisted again.
Nick sighed deeply. Frustrated. "If you say so- but you're missing out. I'm a fantastic lay."
"I'll be sure to let everyone know. But not for another few weeks." He said with eyes rolled towards heaven, asking silently for strength.
Nick grinned again, a quick flash of teeth before looking away.
"I've got to get going. Dean's already freaking out."
Nick gave him a gentle shove out of the kitchen. "I'll see you in a few hours. We can eat and awkwardly not make eye contact."
"I'm good at that." Sam confessed.
"I noticed."
Sam smiled over his shoulder, trying not to laugh, because he knew it would come out weird and strained. "Shut up."
Of all the ways to say goodbye, Nick blew him a kiss, just a slight pursing of his lips, but unmistakable. Sam left, hanging his head, not sure exactly how to feel about any of this- and he got to keep that confused feeling all the way home.
Dean was waiting on the porch and Sam knew that he had missed that little window where it was safe to come home.
Sheepishly, Sam handed over the keys.
Dean didn't say anything, just went back inside.
"I'm sorry." Sam called out as he followed. "I was studying and lost track of time."
"Don't- alright?" Dean stalked into the kitchen, all tense and annoyed. "I don't want to hear about your lame ass studying. It's great that you're such a good student and all- but you're an adult now, Sam. You could at least stay out late having a good time for once. Hanging out with friends, going to parties, touching girls. You're in college, you should at least act like it. It's embarrassing for both of us."
It wasn't the first time that they had had this conversation.
Dean meant well.
He wanted his brother to be happy.
In fact, Dean's good intentions were exactly how Sam had found himself in the awkward deal with Nick.
Sam stood in the kitchen doorway, watching his big brother getting two pies from the fridge, adjusting the aluminum foil that he had covered them with.
"If it helps- I went to a friend's place to study. We ended up watching a movie before I fell asleep."
"Was it a chick's place?" Dean's eyes lit up for a moment.
"No- it was Nick's."
Dean got a complicated look, like he wanted to keep smiling, but thought better of it. "You two really hit if off- didn't you?"
Bodies are traitorous- and Sam realized he was blushing. There was no reason for it. None at all. Just the thought of Nick, of their conversation that morning, of what they were pretending had or hadn't happened between them.
Why was his face hot?
Oh, god. What was wrong with him?
Dean had this little smile, something crooked and curious and awful.
"We get along alright." Sam said quickly and left the kitchen. "I'm going to get a shower before we get going."
That was one of the problems with a proper Thanksgiving dinner- apparently people didn't eat it at dinner time. They were supposed to be there by noonish, and because they were going to go in Cas' car, and were driving out to Half Moon Bay, they needed to leave sooner rather than later. Apparently they would be helping with… things?
The little accountant was waiting downstairs by the time that Sam had showered and dressed in clothes that didn't look like he'd slept in them. Dean had also changed clothes, which was surprising for some reason. He looked… nice. It wasn't like his brother had put on a tie or anything as horrifying. But he'd brushed his hair.
Sam didn't even know that Dean owned a brush.
"Hello, Sam." Cas' voice was just as low and startling as it had always been. His smile was so soft and warm. Such a gentle guy. And Sam thought for a second that there was no similarity between this man and his gruff and sassy older brother, other than maybe in those blue, blue eyes. They were the same eyes.
"Hey, Castiel." He smiled back, easy and honest. "Thanks for the invitation." He really meant it. It wasn't often that him and Dean were invited to someone's house… in fact, he couldn't think of the last time that they'd been to anything like this since coming to California.
The dark haired man smiled with his whole body, if such a thing were possible. He just lit up, looking between the brothers. "Thank you for talking Dean into it. He seemed very reluctant. But it's the time of year where it's best to be with friends and families."
"Better with friends than with family." Nick said from near the front door and Sam wished that he didn't jump as badly as he did. Startled, because he hadn't even noticed that the room had a fourth occupant. "We can just stay here." He suggested.
Castiel sighed, like this was not a new argument. "No, Nick. We promised Michael we'd be there."
"But we've got pies, Cas." Nick said in a way that was meant to be tempting. "Sam's told me all about Dean's pies. They are the sort of pies worth ditching Michael for."
Castiel simply turned his back on his brother, brushing him off so easily, and smiled up at Dean instead. The two standing very close together. "Do you need help carrying anything?"
Dean smiled at his friend in a way that Sam felt that you shouldn't smile at a friend.
It made Sam uncomfortable and he didn't know why.
"Yeah, come on." He went to the kitchen, Castiel following, presumably to get pies.
Sam looked over at Nick, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He wanted to ask if the man had seen the weird exchange, but Nick didn't know Dean well enough to have a point of reference for odd behavior. "Hello." He offered instead.
Nick nodded, hands in his jacket pocket. He looked marginally awkward and Sam didn't know if it was honest, or if it was just him playing it up because their brothers were coming back into the room.
"Come on, Sammy. Get your shoes on and let's go." Dean was carrying to pies like they were his first born children. "And leave your books. No homework."
"Yeah, yeah." He did his best to follow directions in the most belligerent was possible. Taking his time- until he realized that he wasn't just being childish in front of Dean- he had a full audience. With a sense of purpose he got on his shoes and his jacket and they were ready to go.
His brother put a pie in his arms, and Sam realized that there were three pies.
"I thought you were only making two?" He wondered if he would be able to peek under the foil without Dean yelling at him.
"Car, Sammy." His brother instructed firmly, pushing him out the door and locking up once everyone else joined them on the porch.
"Pumpkin and two apples?" Sam knew his brother's favorite. It wouldn't be surprising if he made himself an extra pie.
"Pumpkin, apple, and rhubarb, bitch." Dean announced before calling shotgun- which was unfair because it meant that Sam had to fit his long, long legs into the back seat of Castiel's bubbly little blue Prius. The tiny car was like a sullen eco friendly reminder parked beside the Impala.
"Jerk."He answered automatically, but there was no force in it. Sam climbed carefully into the backseat, mindful of the pie he was holding that his brother had made specifically for him.
The car ride could have been more uncomfortable. It could have been longer. Half an hour wasn't so bad.
Sam sat behind his brother, listening to him chatting along to Castiel about everything and nothing. It was good to see his brother interacting with a friend, but it left him sitting on the outside of things.
He must have got some expression on his face along those lines, Nick's knee bumped into his and when Sam glanced over they shared a little smile.
The older man held up his phone and Sam got the idea.
If their brothers could get all caught up in each other then they could as well.
-I've got rhubarb pie :)
Sam sent and Nick's shoulders shook in a silent laugh.
-ppl actually eat rhubarb?
Nick sent back.
-Be that way
-I'm not sharing with you
He punctuated with a firm knee bump. They shared another smile, but Dean was laughing and Sam couldn't help but look at the back of his brother's head.
-theyre cute together
Sam looked at his phone as it vibrated in his hand, then at the men in the front seats. They we're cute. Both laughing and smiling- but to him it was more strange than anything else.
Something Nick had said back at the pool hall, something about Castiel that Sam had never really considered.
-does your brother like my brother?
Nick didn't text back, he just gave Sam a meaningful look like the answer was too obvious for words.
'oh' Sam mouthed silently, no idea what to do with that information. It didn't make him feel any different about the accountant, other than maybe a little pity for him. If there was one person straighter than Sam, it was his big brother.
It was better not to dwell, because there was nothing that Sam could do about it now.
…now?
Or ever.
If Dean's friend had a crush on him, it wasn't any of Sam's business.
He had enough things to worry about right now.
Nick's knee still pressed against his was one of those things.
-Cas talks about him ALL THE TIME
-I know more about your brother than I do about u
Sam looked at his phone, smiling at the notion because frowning wouldn't change anything.
-we will have to fix that
And they did, or at least they made some excellent headway while Castiel drove them ever closer to the ocean. Nick asked questions, Sam gave answers, divulging all his lesser known secrets. From his boring childhood in dusty, dry Kansas, to playing soccer in jr. high, taking home stray dogs that his dad wouldn't let him keep, stealing fireworks with Dean, and almost burning down a field in mid September when they finally set them off.
Nick's leg never left his, a nice, solid constant as they rambled down the occasionally very bumpy highway.
It wasn't just a one way exchange. Sam got to ask questions too, typically just turning around whatever was asked him. As such, he found out that Nick had been born out on the East coast, never played sports, but took violin lessons for almost ten years (which Sam found oddly difficult to believe), never owned any pets, had been arrested once and kept overnight on a drunk and disorderly charge when he was twenty, and once his family had gone camping out in Yosemite and his brother said he saw a bear- but Nick didn't believe him.
It was just all the stupid things that you talk about when you're trying to get to know someone new.
"There are totally bears out in Yosemite." Sam whispered, not sure why they were so determined to keep quiet in the backseat.
"I'm not saying there aren't." Nick whispered back like a secret. "I'm just saying he didn't see one."
"You're not talking about the bears again. Are you, Nick?" Castiel interrupted loudly, and Sam could see his gaze on them in the rearview mirror.
"There weren't any bears." Nick slapped the back of his brother's headrest.
"It was twenty years ago." Castiel said with a sigh. "Let it go."
"I will when he admits he was lying."
"You're not going to bring it up tonight, are you?"
Nick looked to be struggling to keep a straight face, glancing as Sam for support, then away. "I'll behave."
"You better. Last time someone brought up that camping trip punches were thrown."
Sam couldn't help himself, he started laughing, just quiet and he thought that he hid it well enough- but Nick's knee jostled his almost violently.
"Shh." Nick hissed, such a serious turn to his mouth that at all didn't match the glint in his eyes. "It's not funny, Sam. Castiel made us sit in the corner until we were willing to apologize."
Dean was chuckling now too.
"I didn't make you do anything." Cas' voice was even yet exasperated. "You and Michael are both adults. I just think it would be nice if you acted like it now and then."
Nick, being the adult that he was, older brother and all, stuck his tongue out at Castiel.
It was a good car ride.
And perhaps Sam could have happily suffered with cramped legs through another hour or so of it.
They arrived at Gabriel's house, and it was close enough to the ocean that when they opened the car doors they could hear the waves, smell the salt in the air.
Dean let out a low whistle, taking in the house that wasn't all that big, but from the location alone it must have cost almost at least half a million. "What does your brother do for work again?"
"Mostly embezzles and blackmails, last I heard." Nick said so soft only Sam could hear him.
"He's a lawyer." Castiel answered Dean with a happy smile, taking one of the pies and leading the way to the house. "It's come in handy a few times."
And Sam thought he caught a meaningful look shot back to Nick.
Nick only rolled his eyes and shut the door to the car once he was sure Sam was free.
They didn't get all that far before he leaned up into Sam, their shoulders brushing, close enough that his breath ghosted over Sam's neck. "Promise you won't leave me alone with these people."
"They're your family." Sam chided. Trying not to smile. Trying not to encourage him.
"Promise me." The humor was still there in Nick, but underneath it was something else. Something too close to anxiety.
For a moment Sam said nothing, just stood there, startled by the visible cracks in the other man. Vulnerability where he hadn't expected to find any.
Sam leaned in, even closer- close enough that his lips brushed Nick's cheek, though it wasn't intentional. "I promise."