It would have been far too much to ask for a whole day to himself. Three straight days with Nick, a day and a half with Dean and all of five minutes to himself- to sit on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book – before there came a knocking at the door. Sam would have expected just about anyone at this point, from Nick coming back to harass him to Jehovah Witnesses. Instead he got Castiel. Slightly rumpled suit, pale faced and dark eyed.

"Oh. Hi, Cas." Sam felt his frustration at being interrupted ebb slightly. "Dean just left for work. He should be back around eight."

The accountant gave one of his slightly strained smiles. "I came to talk to you."

"Why?" Sam asked before he really intended and felt a bit guilty for being so gruff. It wasn't Castiel's fault. "I mean, come in. Can I get you a drink?" He tried to remember his manners.

Before long Castiel was settled nicely onto the couch, a cushion's width between him and Sam, holding a glass of water between his knees. If he had come to talk to Sam he certainly looked like he intended to take his time getting started.

The silence only filled Sam with a terrible unease. Horrible possibilities of what this talk was going to be about. Ten bucks said it was going to involve Dean in ways that Sam didn't want to think about and he really had brought this on himself by pushing Cas in his brother's direction a few weeks ago.

"What's up?" Sam asked as gently as he could, hoping that Cas wouldn't pick up on the anxiety underlying the question.

"I need to ask you a favor." He informed his water glass. "And I know that we're not friends exactly, but I… I need help with Nick."

"Oh?" Sam wasn't sure if he was relieved or more worried at this news.

"Do you think that you could talk him into coming to Christmas this year?"

Oh.

Oh.

"I… um," Sam kind of chuckled, relieved that it was something so simple. "I don't think that he wants to go."

"I know that he doesn't want to go." Castiel sighed, setting his glass on the table. "That's why I'm asking for your help."

"Cas, I don't have that kind of power."

Castiel's eyes were a bit darker than his big brothers, though no less expressive and he pleaded with Sam in that single look.

Sam was unprepared. "W-what should I say?"

"I don't know. I've tried everything. But we had lunch yesterday and he was… he really likes you, Sam."

This wasn't gossip. Sam was fully aware of the feelings that he and Nick had decided to have for each other. They had spent almost half an hour arguing over crepes and kicks to unprotected ankles about the very subject only a few days ago. It still made Sam smile.

"He just ignores me when I invite him. He has for years. But it might be different if you ask."

"I don't think so." Sam apologized, but then Castiel got that kicked puppy look again. "But I can ask."

"Thank you." He slumped back into the couch, looking relieved and happy. "It would mean so much to the girls if he showed up. And not just Hannah and Sarah, their mom too. Her and Nick used to be very close back in school- at least that's what I've been told. It was before I came to live with my brothers."

Sam kind of nodded along, still a little confused by their family's timeline, but now was not the time to ask for clarification.

"He stopped coming to any kind of family function after his divorce… I think he blamed Michael for it somehow, at least that's what I got from some of their arguments- and things have calmed down a bit since then for whatever that's worth. He shows up for Thanksgiving and Easter, but twice a year to see your family is hardly enough."

"He sees you more often than that."

"Well, yes." Castiel smiled just a little. "But I'm non confrontational. I don't try to push his buttons like Michael and Gabriel do. I don't bring up Lilith, or June, or the Marines, or bears in Yosemite. When you know what to not talk about he's very easy to get along with."

Sam perked up. Lilith was Nick's ex, and the bears was an argument that Sam had heard before… but the Marines? June? How can someone's button be the whole month of June? Oh, Sam wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn't his business. If Nick wanted to share he would.

Apparently Castiel could read the curiosity on Sam's face because he suddenly paled. "Never mind. I ramble sometimes. I don't mean to."

Sam's coffee was cold, but he still sipped at it, occupying his mouth so it wouldn't ask stupid questions.

"Thank you for agreeing to help." Cas took a little sip of his own drink and when he glanced up there was a mischievous look about him- though Sam could have been misinterpreting that one, because it certainly didn't seem like a familiar expression for the accountant. "If I can ask one last thing, Sam?"

"Go for it." As long as the man wasn't expecting anything more complicated than he had already asked for.

"How was your weekend with Nick?"

"It was… nice." Sam said hesitantly. Which was basically the same answer he'd given Dean. What did it matter what sort of story he and Nick had concocted? He knew that he could just be vague and his brother would assume the worst.

Castiel's eyebrows went up a bit. "Nice?"

"We got his violin fixed. Saw a concert. I got to hold his hand while he got a tattoo on his arm touched up." There was blood and Sam had been far more uncomfortable about the whole thing than Nick. "We went to Pier Thirty-nine… just normal things I guess."

"Does he still play his violin?" Castiel leaned forward, suddenly excited.

The simple answer was yes. Sam remembered it quite clearly. Teasing Nick again in the parking garage, about the man smuggling drugs in his violin case. And Nick had laughed and taken out the smallest, most fragile looking instrument that Sam had ever seen. He had been afraid to touch it- especially when the man told him it was almost a hundred years old. He'd asked Nick to play, assuming that he would shoot him down on account of the rolling echoes of the practically empty garage.

But Nick played. He played 'Whisky in the Jar-o' of all songs, and even with the confusing acoustics it was startlingly wonderful. Everything about Nick seemed to be, so it was only fair.

Sam shook himself of the memory and smiled at Castiel. "He does. Do all you guys play an instrament?"

"We all tried at some point. He was just the only one of us that was ever any good."

Sam waited, expectantly, but when no further words came he nudged. "What about you?"

"I tried to learn the piano." He looked down, shoulders hunching slightly. "I gave up by the time I graduated high school." He glanced back up. "I'm glad you two had fun. He needed a vacation."

"I did too."

Castiel got to his feet and Sam followed. "I hope you don't mind… today is the day I go into the shop to do payroll. Dean and I are going out for drinks afterwards."

"I-I don't mind." Sam grinned and decided that he would really need to have a talk with Dean about this at some point. "I'm glad. Just try and keep him away from vodka or tequila. He knows that they make him sloppy, but when he's in the mood for trouble he doesn't care." It was only fair warning.

"Nick is the same way." Cas shook his head with a sigh. "Brown drinks make him happy. Pale drinks usually mean fist fights. I have to keep an eye on him when we go out together."

That meant that Sam should keep an eye on him as well- though if they were the same habits as Dean, it meant that a simple drink order would do wonders for gauging the man's mood. Sometimes Sam felt like he learned more about his 'boyfriend' from talking to Cas than he ever actually got out of Nick.

The little accountant smiled up at Sam, looking oddly pleased in the shared similarity of their big brothers. "It's good to know what I'm getting myself in for."

"He's easy enough to handle. Just cut him off when he starts getting… huggy."

"Oh." Castiel looked down at his shoes. "I don't think I would mind it all that much."

Sam tried not to grin. "Hey, Cas?"

"Hm?" He looked over his shoulder, hesitating halfway to seeing himself out the door.

"Have you and Dean," did he really want to know? "Have you kissed?" As soon as the word left his mouth Sam wanted to take it back. It went above and beyond what would qualify as his business. He honestly didn't even want to even consider the possibility that his brother would have… Dean wouldn't. He wouldn't.

It wasn't like Sam had anything at all against Castiel. The peculiar little man made Sam kind of happy to be honest. He was possibly very good for Dean. But that didn't mean that Dean was going to swing that way, or that he would even graciously accept any kind of advances from a friend. However, Dean was the kind of guy who let people he cared about get away with practically anything.

"I'm brave, Sam. But I'm not stupid." Castiel's cheeks pinked ever so slightly. "Have you… has Nick kissed you?"

That startled Sam.

There was a plan. A whole, huge, gay plan between him and Nick. But Nick had had lunch with his brother that afternoon and he hadn't even told Cas that they…

"We've… um, done a bit more than that actually."

Cas chuckled and it was a little rough like he wasn't used to making the noise. "Have you?"

Sam found that it was his turn to feel awkward. And that was fine- it's not like he was an adult or anything and years past blushing and shuffling his feet like a twelve year old at his first school dance. He managed a small nod and that was acknowledgement enough.

Castiel clapped him on the shoulder before he left, a funny sort of parting, but at the same time very familiar and warm. The same way that Nick liked to kiss Sam's cheek.

For a while Sam got to just stand there, leaning against the door, listening to Castiel drive away. He lost himself for a moment or two, mulling over what he had agreed to do. The stupid thing that he had agreed to. But Sam had no natural defenses built up for puppy dog expressions and he had said yes long before it really had a chance to sink in what a horrible thing he had agreed to try and do.

And so much for having a day to himself.

It was only a week until Christmas and it didn't leave much time to try and sweet talk Nick into going somewhere he didn't want to go, using little to no leverage at all. It was a daunting task.

Putting it off would only mean less time for persuasion.

And Sam would need all the time he could get.

He spent the afternoon making lists. Putting words and idea together and Dean would have laughed if he had known about it. But Sam was who he was, and writing things down always helped him get his thoughts in order. A few hours (and a few breaks) later, and he thought he had come up with a fair argument- or at least as good as he was going to get.

He called Nick's phone and was disappointed when no one picked up.

He called the shop and the little receptionist said that Nick had already left for the night but would be back in tomorrow around two or three.

Sam could just go to Nick's apartment… but that felt like a breech in whatever protocol they had never laid down. So he called his cell phone again an hour later and didn't leave a message because he suddenly felt overly self conscious about looking like a needy girlfriend. For lack of a better direction he stole one of Dean's beers from the fridge and settled himself down with some X Files reruns.

He was in bed before Dean made it home. Which made it a very late night for his brother. Sam kept his fingers crossed. Hoping that Dean or Cas had managed to do the right thing tonight. Whatever the right thing was.

In the morning he found a sticky note on the fridge for him. Dean's heavy handwriting crammed into the small yellow square.

'we need to talk when I get home- be here'

And thank god there wasn't anything ominous about the note. Though Dean had never had any tact and in all likelihood there was probably nothing at all sinister hidden in those few words. Probably.

It gave Sam something to fret about until that afternoon when he stepped out. No doom and gloom note from his brother would keep him from his self imposed timeframe. Besides, he'd be back before Dean got home.

Sam pulled on his coat and went for a long walk.

As he suspected, the little coffee shop situated to the left of the tattoo parlor knew Nick by name, and knew what he usually ordered, and no, they hadn't seen him yet this afternoon. Sam purchased two coffees, one with just a bit of cream and the other some kind of nonsense that he just had to trust in the barista for.

The same dark haired receptionist was there to greet Sam when he walked in, lips just as red, shirt just as low, jeans somehow even tighter.

"Well, hello there stranger." She leaned on the desk in just the right way to give Sam a nice peek down her top, should he choose to. "Am I happy to see you again."

He smiled right at her face, with a perfectly steady gaze. "Is Nick in yet?"

"Boss man?" She stood a little bit straighter, eyeing not only Sam but also his two coffees. "Yeah. He… had a rough night last night so we were letting him sleep. He's that lump in the corner." She kept her eyes on Sam while nodding towards the back of the shop.

Sam easily looked over her head to the far side of the room, seeing at first only a sturdy looking man with closely shaved hair, who as emphatically not Nick, carefully laying out a sprawling design over a young man's arm. They were both locked in a quiet conversation that was relatively lost behind the buzz of the tattoo needle and the classic rock station that was playing just a bit too loud.

Nick was not literally in the corner of the shop, but he was in the furthest station from the door, and not particularly notable aside from the clutter. He was leaning back, half falling out of a desk chair with a magazine lying over his face. At least, Sam assumed it was Nick. The patterns on his arms looked familiar if nothing else.

"Can I go back?" Sam asked the girl, holding up the coffees.

She smiled at him again, a little crooked this time. "Yeah. Go ahead. He's uh-he's got a picture of the two of you on his wall. See if you can talk him into giving me a copy?"

A… picture?

Oh no.

There could be only one picture.

The two of them had gone into a photo booth at the Pier over the weekend. Nick had caused trouble and Sam made him promise to get rid of the evidence resulting there in. He should have known that Nick would keep it.

Sam had an itch on the back of his neck for the whole short walk, convinced that the receptionist was studying every bit of his progress. Ever so carefully he set the drinks down on a desk littered with papers and binders and sketchbooks. It was almost the exact opposite of Nick's apartment. Clutter covering every surface except for a very comfortable looking dentist-esk chair that Sam could only assume was for customers, and a tall tray on wheels, with little C rings on the side from which hung a pair of tattoo guns.

Despite his initial intentions, Sam found himself taking advantage of the moment to look around. He lightly scooted aside one of the binders, peeking to see it filled with nicely sorted photos of tattoos. He was almost brave enough to look inside one of the sketchbooks, but settled for peering at a few familiar faces in the photos pinned to a cork board, partially hidden behind a half finished painting of crows. A really… really nice painting of crows. Not that Sam was an art expert or anything like that. But they really looked like the birds that they were supposed to be and that had to say something about the quality. Right?

Sam would much rather look at those birds than the other pictures.

One particular picture.

Or four- if you looked at it right. One long set of photos with little white bars between. The first was innocent enough, the two of them both smiling a little awkwardly at the camera. But by the second one Nick had grabbed hold of Sam and done a marvelous job of crushing the younger man into the corner of the booth, kissing him full on the mouth- or at least that was certainly what it looked like. He had managed to get a few fingers between their lips of them on the far side where the camera couldn't see. But it certainly looked very convincing. The last two pictures were of Sam eyeing Nick in wide eyed terror while the older man laughed until his face was red.

He really should have gotten rid of it. If nothing else, it was at least somewhat hidden in the mess of other photos. There was an upsettingly sweet picture of Nick's nieces and nephew building a sandcastle. There was another photo from probably the same day, with Nick and the children burying Gabriel up to the neck beneath a lopsided pile of sand. The older man was in swim trunks and looked slightly sunburned, but fiercely happy.

There were more photos, some of family, some of people that Sam didn't recognize in the slightest. There was one family photo where everyone looked familiar, except for the addition of an oddly short, man with messy brown hair. It had to be the boys' father. He had the same almost grey blue eyes that Nick did, the same awkward smile that his sons all seemed to share.

It was a nice peek into Nick's life. And Sam enjoyed seeing that, despite how Thanksgiving had gone a few weeks ago, there was evidence that at some point all four brothers had been at least willing to smile and lean against each other.

There was one face mixed in with all the others that Sam positively didn't know, but she looked so familiar at the same time. There had to be at least ten pictures of a young blonde girl with sterling blue eyes and a smear of freckles. She was shown in an array of ages, from toddler to about the same age as Michael's older kids. Smiling, playing soccer, glairing into the sun, poised just so for a school picture with a painfully unflattering blue background. An odd collection and Sam wondered if she was somehow Gabriel's daughter and just hadn't been at Thanksgiving. Or perhaps a sister? A much, much younger sister.

Sam made himself look away, because he wasn't willing to check the back of the photos in hopes of finding a name. Just as sure as he would still have no idea who she was even if he knew what she was called.

He turned to Nick and was on the verge of waking him in some obnoxious way, right up until he saw the man's hands. They were folded over his stomach, the last three fingers of his right hand bound up in a series of those little blue medical splints, wrapped in enough tape that it almost hid the purple and black bruising.

"Nick?" Sam leaned down, lightly patting at his knees. It was a gentle movement but obviously enough to startle the man awake.

He sat up alarmingly fast, the magazine sliding to his lap, his eyes wide and un focused- Sam half expected to see a black eye, but instead was treated to a view of a painfully deep split lip offset with two small black stitches.

"God damn it, Sam." Nick used his good hand to pick up his magazine and smacked Sam firmly in the stomach. "You can't go sneaking up on me like that."

He took the swat because he supposed that he deserved it. "What happened to you?"

"Nice to see you too, Sam." Nick had a fantastic ability to put an undue amount of sarcasm into those few words. "How have you been?"

"I'm… I'm better than you I guess." He leaned back against the counter. "Holly hell, Nick."

"Thanks." He rubbed at an eye, then touched his lip and winced. He gave Sam a guarded look, slightly on edge and non of his normal humor.

"Are you alright?" He tried a different approach, feeling a bit on edge himself now because this sort of derailed his initial plans -being far more important and immediate than visiting family in a week.

"I'm peachy. How's your brother?"

Sam blinked. "He's… fine. How are your brothers?" See, he could ask stupid questions too.

Nick didn't answer so much as he just watched Sam with that even, cautious expression. Not saying anything at all until things started to feel uncomfortable. "Why are you here, Sam?"

"I just hadn't seen you in a few days. Wanted to say hi… I brought you a coffee." He picked up the cardboard cup and handed it over.

There was a moment of quiet suspicion and then Nick read the markings on the side of the cup and his face lit up. "Oh. Oh, you beautiful boy." He took the offered coffee and suddenly everything was fine. "Thank you." He sipped and winced, then smiled up at Sam. "How did you know?"

"The guy at the coffee shop said it was what you usually ordered." Despite the sudden shift Sam still felt uneasy. "I see you, um, kept the pictures from our trip." He nodded towards the board and its collage of photos.

Nick's eyes got a little lidded above a smile. "I like them."

"But they're… incriminating."

"Oh god. You're right. Do you think people might assume that we're… dating?"

"God, I hope not." Sam chuckled and hated it. He nudged a foot against Nick's and was rewarded with a small shuffle back. "People thinking I'm dating some kind of ruffian. How embarrassing."

"It was not a fight that I started if that counts for anything."

"Did you at least finish it?"

Nick took a slow breath, agitated little lines on his forehead and the corners of his lips. "No. I don't think I did."

"You want me to go find him and break his knees for you or something?"

That made Nick laugh. Hard enough that he had to set down his coffee.

"Is that a no?"

"I think it's best to let this one go." He touched his lip and managed not to wince this time. "I said I didn't start the fight. I never said I didn't deserve what I got."

"I leave you alone for a few days and you go pick a fight and get that pretty face of yours broken." He shook his head. "I'm invested in that face, Nick. At least one whole month of my time and you could at least try and keep it safe."

Nick turned his head to the side and lightly tapped a finger against his cheek. It took Sam longer than it should have to realize he was asking for a kiss- but there were other people in the room. People who he didn't know, who could easily see the two of them in the corner. And it was a bit startling to then realize that that alone was the only reason why Sam didn't just go for it.

As reason went- it was a fairly stupid one.

He leaned down and pressed a small kiss against Nick's cheek. "You are a trouble maker." He whispered.

"Only sometimes." Nick whispered back with a bit of a chuckle. He waited until Sam resituated himself against the counter, all the space in the world between them, before taking another small sip of his coffee. "And only when it will be the least convenient."

"I have noticed that." He played footsie just a little more without a single ounce of shame, kicking away at Nick like they were little kids. "So, Cas came by to visit me yesterday morning."

Nick tensed, just for a fraction of a second and Sam almost thought he imagined it. "And what did my little baby brother need? Looking for more dating advice?"

"No. He seems to be doing just fine on his own." Sam smiled to himself. "He actually was re-inviting me and Dean to Christmas."

He tensed again, showing a bit of teeth this time. "Eww."

"I'm thinking about going." He shrugged, hoping it came off as casual. "I mean, Dean's going. I may as well go too. No sense in staying home alone on Christmas."

Nick made a face, not at all concerned with hiding his feelings on the subject. "You can always come spend the night with me. I'll be just as alone. We can both be alone, together."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "Dean and I have never done much for the holiday season. We're not really that religious or festive- but he's the only family I've got. It would feel weird not to be with him."

"Suit yourself. But you're walking into a house full of crazies. They'll have you eating ham and singing Christmas songs and you won't get any sympathy from me."

Well- so much for Nick offering to go along so Sam wouldn't be stuck with his family.

"Come with me." He tried that pitiful look that always worked on Dean.

Nick laughed. "Hell no."

"Come on. I don't want to be stuck in a corner while Dean gets tipsy on eggnog and makes very heterosexual passes at Cas."

"First off, still no booze unless you smuggle it in yourself. Second, I'm sure that Gabriel will keep you company if your brother gets too caught up in making eyes at my brother."

"Great. You're just going to let me alone to defend myself against him? I'll screw up somehow. He's a lawyer. He'll know I'm lying."

"He'll be too drunk on contraband to even remember who you are- and he's honestly not that bright to begin with." Came the calm assurance. "But the offer still stands to come stay with me." There was absolutely no sympathy to be found. "We can order take out and watch bad movies and they can even be holiday appropriate if you like."

"Nick,"

"Still no."

"Then I will take my bribe coffee back."

"It was a gift." He held the drink to his chest and smiled up at Sam so sweetly.

"No. It was definitely a bribe."

Nick looked him square in the eye as he licked the lid of his cup. "Mine."

"Am I supposed to be afraid of your germs at this point?"

And Nick simply took another drink of his coffee, his eyes shining with the smile that he hid.

"Come on, Nick. Please."

"I don't know what Cas offered you to come down here and try and talk me into this- and don't deny it. I know he did. But whatever he gave you in trade, it wasn't worth it, because the answer is still no."

"He didn't offer me anything." Sam sighed, marveling at how quickly this had come apart. "He just asked."

"Did he give you those big eyes of his?" Nick chuckled and nodded when he saw the look on Sam's face. "Yeah. He seems innocent enough- but he knows how to work the system."

Sam made sullen work of his coffee. Disappointed in himself and at the great and quick mess he had made of things. But in his defense, he had started this yesterday by telling Cas that he didn't think he would be able to do it. Simple as that. He didn't know Nick all that well. Hadn't known him all that long- not enough know where his soft spots lay.

He could keep picking though. Sam was nothing if not stubborn.

"Nick, why didn't you tell Cas about us?"

Nick froze, shuttering to an almost perfect stillness. The tip of his tongue darted out, tasting the dark stitches at the corner of his mouth in an unconscious, nervous little gesture. And Sam suddenly realized that, given time, there would be a scar.

What a crime to damage such a perfect set of lips.

What an odd thought to have.

Sam made himself look away, and that must have done the trick because Nick was able to find his words once no one was looking at him.

"Cas- he didn't need to know."

"I thought that was the whole point of all this." Sam set his cup back on the counter, mindful off all the books and papers. "Or are you just going to pick and chose who gets to be part of this sham?"

"Sham? Seriously, who talks like that?"

To which Sam felt no need to justify himself with any kind of response.

"Come on, Sam. Cas doesn't count." Nick explained in a way that sounded almost like a whine. "He's just a little kid."

"He's an adult."

"Yeah, but he's still my kid brother and I don't like lying to him."

Sam looked back at Nick- just really stared him down, and for once it worked. Nick showed an ounce of humanity and shame and cracked slightly under one of Sam's best bitch faces.

"It's not like I didn't tell him some of it. I just left out all those kinky details we worked so hard on."

"I left those details to you- and they had better not have been… kinky." He specifically remembered telling Nick that he could fill in all the gory little bit that he needed as long as he didn't go over the top- and Sam didn't have to hear about it later. "You must have really wanted to spare Cas, because he asked if you had kissed me yet."

Nick shrugged with a small, unapologetic kind of smile. "He's got some idea."

"Some?"

"Mhnm. I told him how I can't get over that you're actually taller than me, and how it puts that damn mouth of yours at eye level and it drives me crazy. I told him how you get those little dimples when you smile- yeah, just like that," Nick reached up, but let his hand fall back before he actually touched Sam's cheek. "And how you don't mind when I get in your personal space, and how you're so god damned warm it makes me just want to wrap myself around you."

"You told him all that?" Only one or two of which did Sam find even slightly believable.

"Those are the ones I remember."

"You're the worst." Sam reminded - just in case Nick had forgotten.

"You keep telling me that, but your dimples say otherwise."

A sigh caught in Sam's throat and he decided to take the opportunity to look at the walls, at the ceiling, at anything that wasn't Nick and that smile of his. His smile that had become somewhat lopsided from the stitches.

Sam wanted to hurt whoever had hurt Nick- it was such a strong and irrational feeling. Sam didn't think of himself as a violent person. Apparently there were exceptions.

"I've- I should get headed home. Dean's expecting me there when he gets back from work."

Nick didn't answer to that and if forced Sam to halt his close examination of the ceiling tiles and actually look at the man.

The laughing and teasing was gone from him, no trace behind, not even enough for a good memory.

One last try. Couldn't hurt, right? "Consider coming with. I'd have more fun with you there and I know at least some of your family would really like to see you." Honesty was always an option.

"Sam," Nick said in the most awful of ways, that single syllable said in a way that spoke volumes of horrible things. It was the 'we need to talk' tone and it brought only dread.

"Yeah?"

"Come down here so I can talk without shouting." His eyes drifted over to his coworkers then back up to Sam who was towering as best as he knew how.

So he leaned down, even if he didn't want to- because Sam found himself suddenly very afraid of what was about to happen. It's just that Nick wasn't a serious sort of person. Maybe he could be a little cranky at times, but not serious. Not like this.

It didn't set well with Sam.

"When we were figuring this all out… back at the restaurant in the beginning," Nick's nose wrinkled just a little and he kept his voice so soft it was almost impossible to hear. "We didn't lay out any ground rules about sex."

Sam straightened, spine rigid. "We didn't need to. You said hand holding at most and you've already gone way past that."

"Not with you, you ass." The little muscle in Nick's cheek twitched as he ground his teeth. His voice dropped back down. "I mean extracurricular, with real people, other people, not just in the stories I'm swapping with my brother."

Oh.

Nick meant…

Three months could be a long dry stretch.

And it was logical. Sam totally got it. It'd been a few months for him since he'd last been with someone, and that someone had been a nameless and very friendly girl that Dean had pushed in his direction. It hadn't been particularly notable.

There was no good way to know how long it had been for Nick- and it wasn't Sam's place to demand that he be celibate for two more months. But fair didn't enter into it. Sam wanted to say no. Wanted to fold his arms over his chest and tell Nick just how much trouble he was in for even asking.

That feeling alone was enough for him to stop and take stock of what sort of mess he had started to become. But he ignored it. It was too soon. Such feelings were best ignored for at least another few weeks- to come to him painfully in the middle of one night, when it was far too late to do anything about it.

If he had said something right then he might have saved himself from a lot of pain later.

And that was simply not the Winchester way.

"Nick- this is a… a don't ask, don't tell kind of thing for me. You're an adult, alright." How many tiles did the ceiling have? He'd left off counting at thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty. Forty-one. "You do what you've got to. It's really not my business."

Nick must have stood, because even while examining all that the world had to offer up above Sam's head, the blonde suddenly passed into his line of sight.

His good hand found Sam's cheek and he pulled the younger man down, giving Sam no choice but to look him in the eye. "And that is why you're very much my favorite."

Great.

About the last thing he wanted right now was to be anyone's favorite. Certainly not Nick's.

The man leaned in just enough to lay a very light kiss on the end of Sam's nose.

And that wasn't what he wanted either.

Though Sam had this sinking feeling that even if he knew exactly what it was that he wanted right then, he wouldn't have been brave enough to ask for it.

Along the lines of things that Sam didn't particularly want… or need, Nick gave him a ride back home. All he did was explain that he hadn't really planned to get any work done today anyhow (what with his good hand busted) and apparently it was too cold and too far for Sam to walk.

He could have lived with the kindness. It's not like Nick wanting to take care of him was a terrible thing, but Dean's car was already in the driveway and Sam knew a bad sign when he saw one. It was too early for Dean to be home- and it's not like it was a giant dark omen or anything even half as sinister. There was just this growing feeling deep in Sam that he never should have got out of bed today.

"Thanks for the ride." He gave Nick a gentle nudge before climbing off the bike.

"Oh, we're not done yet, darlin'." He killed the engine and clamored off after Sam. "I need to talk to your brother."

Sam wanted to say 'not today' and to send the man back to his own home, but instead he found himself being closely followed, one of Nick's fingers hooked through one of his belt loops. And god only knew what it was that Nick could possibly have to talk to Dean about- but Sam figured that he would find out soon enough. Curiosity was a dangerous thing.

In the overdramatic way that he had sometimes, Dean had managed to arrange himself in the center of the couch, a terrible centerpiece that clashed with the room's decor. Which was no easy task on account of none of the furniture matched in the first place, being scavenged from a half a dozen second hand stores over the past few years. But Dean managed. He was good like that. A man of many skills, was Sam's big brother.

One of those skills was how well he was able to pull off a black eye.

"I told you to wait for me to get back, Sammy." Dean said sourly, his whole body angling in an oddly more aggressive way when he saw that Sam wasn't alone. "You son of a bitch. I told you to stay the hell away from my brother."

Not really understanding what was going on, Sam put himself between his brother and his boyfriend and tried his best to use his height in order to hide one from the other. "Dean. Hi."

Dean got up off the couch and winced at the movement, touching his ribs for a second. "He tell you what happened last night, Sam?"

Not really, but Sam hadn't asked. Nick had obviously been in a fight, there wasn't much need for a deeper explanation. Though looking at Dean… maybe… maybe he should have asked. Maybe it was a bit more important than he wanted to believe.

He looked over his shoulder at Nick who didn't look even vaguely interested in taking the offered shelter. "You didn't."

"He started it."

Dean prickled, angry in that articulate way that he could be at times. "I started it? You – you son of a bitch."

"You already called me that." Nick taunted softly.

Dean lunged, and if Sam's hadn't been expecting it then he might have actually got a hand on Nick. Instead he caught his brother, wrapping hands very tightly around his shoulders and holding him back.

"I'll call you a lot worse, you fuck."

"Whoah, hey." Sam gave Dean a soft shake, drawing his attention. "Would one of you like to tell me what's going on or should I just get out of the way so you two can have another slap fight?"

"It was a little more than a slap fight." Nick said softly.

"I had to spend two hours in the emergency room with your god damned boyfriend last night. Apparently I've got bruised ribs and the nurses said I can't work for a week."

"Calm your tits. You had Cas to hold your hand."

"Fuck you."

Sam still held Dean, very determined that at least one of them remember that he was still here. "Any story at all. Doesn't even have to be a good one. Doesn't even have to be true."

"Cas and I went out for drinks last night after work." Dean was watching over Sam's shoulder, gaze steady. "We ran into your boyfriend at the bar and he wasn't alone."

"And I already told you that she's a friend who needed a ride home."

"Unless the little skank lives in the bar then I ain't buying it."

"And I told you that I don't give a flying fuck what you think because it's none of your god damned business." Nick didn't sound like he had even a fraction of the anger that Dean was clinging to like a lifeline- but it would have been a mistake to consider it a sign of weakness or guilt.

"You screw my brother and a week later you take some chick out for drinks- yes it's my fucking business. It's my brother that you're cheating on and I swear to god that I'll break more than just your face if you don't get out of my house."

Sam's grip felt weak and he struggled to keep a hold on Dean.

"I told him last night, Sam. I told him that if I saw him again I would kill him."

"You need to calm down." Sam urged.

Dean bore his teeth and leaned into Sam's hands, pushing against him. "You need to be less calm. You didn't see her and the way they were hanging on each other. She wasn't a friend and he wasn't giving her a ride home."

"You just know everything, don't you?" Nick leaned into Sam's back, soft breath along the younger man's neck.

"I know when I came over to talk to you, just to clarify that you were still dating my brother- she offered for me to join you two. And she wasn't talking about drinks, Nick."

"Dean." Sam gave his brother a shake. "Dean. It's fine."

"Fine? It's not fine. Don't you dare let this bastard treat you like this, Sammy."

"I told him it was ok."

The problems that Sam let himself get dragged into.

The problems that he made for himself.

"It's not ok." Dean felt a need to be mad enough for both of them. Hell, he was mad enough for at least sixteen scorned brothers.

"I gave him permission. A while ago. It's really not a big deal." It wasn't a whole lie. Time was really relative anyways and giving permission after the fact was just semantics. At least Nick seemed to think so, and how could Sam be properly mad when less than an hour before he had given his blessing.

He could practically feel the smugness radiating against his back.

It probably would have been better for everyone if Sam wasn't ever so slightly more than vindictive. He felt tricked. He felt mad. He felt a need to take it out on someone.

"There's things he can do with a girl that he can't do with me, Dean. He doesn't have to be on his hands and knees. He gets to be all manly and on top and all those normal things that guys who don't have dominant boyfriends get to enjoy." He couldn't see the expression on Nick's face, but Sam could only hope it was half as upset as Dean's.

It's not every day that you learn you're the bottom in a gay relationship.

Certainly, it had shocked Sam when Nick had simply told him that he would be on top simply because he was the one paying for their meals. It was only fair if Sam took the same random opportunity to make such broad and unsubstantial proclamations.

What was Nick going to do, call Sam a liar?

"We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks. We're not in love or anything and if he needs to hop into bed with some girl every now and then so he can still feel manly then he has my blessings."

Dean ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, agitated and confused little movements as he grimaced. "Are you serious?"

"What I do in bed, what he does in bed- whether together or with other people is actually none of your business." He let go of Dean, sensing that the danger had passed. "Please try and remember that before you come out swinging." He made careful eye contact with his big brother, making sure that Dean could hear the unspoken 'thank you. I know you meant well' that he felt so deeply right then.

"You know what?" Dean's hands went up in the air, all kinds of surrender. "I don't want to be involved in this. You two are weird and gross and just leave me out of it." He went to the kitchen.

Sam waited about a second before turning on Nick. "You broke his ribs?"

"He threw the first punch."

"And you look good on your knees."

Nick's eyes were wide and so very pale. "Sam. No."

It was hard to keep his smile tucked away where it wouldn't make things worse. "But I thought I was your favorite?"

"A little less now."

"I could have just let him kill you, you know? He would, and I would've happily helped him hide the body."

"I think you're over reacting."

"I think you're lucky that I like you." Sam patted both of Nick's cheeks, maybe a little too hard.

He closed his eyes and scowled. "Are you hoping for an apology or something?"

"You sent my brother to the emergency room and you tricked me. Why should you apologize?"

"I tricked you?" Nick's arms came up, not so much like a hug as just a means to pull Sam close, close enough that their chests brushed and Sam could smell the coffee on the other man's breath. "I asked you an honest, straight forward question and you said yes, go ahead. I went ahead."

"You asked me today. You went ahead last night." He made almost no noise at all, whispering so that Dean couldn't hear.

"Look. It's been weeks since I've... she's a … I did a sugar skull on her a few years back, she's a derby girl and it's their logo. She sweet talked me into a ride home, offered to buy me a drink in trade. I said yes. She shows up again every now and then… it's sort of a standing arrangement now."

"She's… she's a booty call?"

"I'm hers. She doesn't even let me stay the night." Nick chuckled and played with his stitches, little pink tip of his tongue. "She's aggressive, knows what she wants and enjoys taking it. I like giving. Even if I'm a bit sore then next day. So… I give her a ride home when she asks for one."

Sam shook his head, because he didn't need to know all this.

"Look. I can't always take myself home. And I sure as hell am not giving you any rides." He tightened his arms just a little. "You can't blame me for wanting a little company. Which I didn't get, by the way, because your overprotective big brother had to throw and over protective big fit on your behalf."

Sam wanted to get out of the circle of Nick's arms. He didn't feel safe here. "I'm not going to apologize either. You can give her a call, pick up where you left off."

He managed to look mildly embarrassed. "I don't actually have her number. Legitimately, she doesn't want me for anything else."

"You actually sound happy about that."

Nick grinned and it tugged the stitches, leaving his lower lip bloodless and pale. "She appreciates me."

"Not enough to give you her phone number or to let you stay the night."

"Hey!" Dean came back into the room, somewhere behind Sam, and he didn't have to see his big brother's face to know that he was frowning. "Not where I have to see it. This is still my house and I'm still pissed off at both of you."

Sam nudged Nick off, hands on his stomach, looking over to watch Dean folding himself onto the couch. "Why are you mad at me?"

"Because my pain killers haven't kicked in yet and you're kissing the jack ass who punched me in the face."

"I've punched you in the face before." Sam pointed out.

"You're my brother, I have to forgive you. He's a phase and I don't have to give him the time of day because he's still seeing girls on the side and I think he's a dick."

"He's not invited to our wedding." Nick decided.

"Neither are you." He pushed the man even further away.

Sam knew that he shouldn't be happy that Nick was here.

Nick was a giant problem.

So much more trouble than he was worth.

But he was smiling at Sam, and he hadn't gone off with some girl last night- and that shouldn't be a factor into anyone's happiness other than Nick's own. The sad fact was that Sam liked Nick. Considered him a friend. But if this was any other friend then they would be sharing a chuckle and a nudge over possible conquests and aggressive women.

Sam just felt relieved.

And guilty for feeling relieved.

And stupid for both of those in varying degrees.

He took a few steps towards the stairs. "Nick- come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs where Dean doesn't have to watch us."

Nick's eyes lit up and that was the whole of his smile. But it was enough.

He ended up staying the night, not because it had been decided on beforehand. Sam had sat on one end of the bed, Nick on the other and they just started talking. Talking about the dumbest things. Sam wanted to know if there were any other ladies waiting in the eves that he should be warned about. The answer was no, but it somehow lead to when was the last time Sam had been out with a girl, which lead to the ongoing struggle that was going to bars with Dean, which inevitably lead to a contest between who had the most obnoxious brother.

They just ended up laying in bed talking, talking until they both realized how very late it had gotten. Too late for Nick to drive himself home. It was a weak excuse and they both bought it and that probably said more on its own than anything else up until that point.