Thunder fell on their fort, loud banging from above.

"Can I get you kids anything?" Sam asked from the wrong side of half a dozen blankets.

Gabriel grew silent all at once, shifting around awkwardly and Nick couldn't help but grin now because his brother was embarrassed at having been caught. Whether it was being caught singing, or being caught actually being nice for once, it was hard to tell.

"I forgot he was still here." Gabriel whispered into his shoulder.

"Good job, jack ass." Nick whispered back.

Sam tapped at their ceiling. "Anything at all?"

"Cake?" Gabe questioned slowly, coming back to himself and finding his footing easy enough.

"We don't have cake." The booming voice from above informed them before tacking on a "Nick is sick and sick people don't get cake." Which was just unnecessary and frankly kind of mean.

"That's fucking prejudice." He pointed out sullenly.

Gabriel jabbed Nick in the ribs. "Agreed."

"We don't have any cake." Sam sounded the words out slowly, mildly annoyed.

His brother grumbled and breathed hot little puffs of air against Nick's shoulder, thinking for too long before answering. "Juice."

Ah, drink orders. Nick could handle this. "Bourbon."

"Sure." Sam answered so easily.

Nick bounced in place, in far too good of a mood because he hadn't had a right proper drink in almost a week and he was starting to feel it. His blood alcohol levels dangerously low. But it was two orange juices that were passed under the table with a glare of sunlight that was almost blinding. He would have been more disappointed if he weren't so thirsty. He drank his juice and was confused as to how, or when, or why Gabriel managed to talk Sam into joining them.

However, Nick wasn't complaining. Sam was climbing in beside him, still slightly damp from his shower. He smelled real nice. And yeah, the fever had broken though Nick was definitely not back to firing on all cylinders yet- but who needed sanity though when he had Sam sitting oh so close… and a blanket fort. It's not like he was going to point out that Gabe was right, that this is actually just what he wanted. He would enjoy it in contented silence.

Sam was kind of whispering against his ear, little questions that didn't need answers and Nick was just agreeing to everything because he didn't have it in him to do otherwise. It probably had something to do with the heat and close confines.

Again, not complaining.

If only his brother wasn't in here with them…

"You're not a doctor." Gabriel was pointing out to Sam for some reason. "You don't know how these things work."

"Neither are you." Nick did his best to defend his Sam from such broad and unnecessary accusations.

And he could almost hear Gabriel's eye roll. "My wife is. Which makes me practically half-doctor. And it always worked when we were kids. So mneh."

If he could see a single damn thing he would have grabbed Gabe's tongue that he knew was being stuck out at him. Missed opportunities.

Without warning, Sam brushed against his side and it was more than enough encouragement. Nick leaned back, resting his head against that offered shoulder. The kid was whispering once more- perhaps just using his inside voice. All Nick knew was that he was agreeing again. Yes, whatever Sam wanted, as long as he was using that low, rough voice that he'd acquired a few days back.

"And why did you let him drag you under the table?"

Gabriel interrupted before Nick could manage to try and figure out the answer to that one. "I'm very persuasive when I want to be." Which was fair enough.

"He lured me out here." Nick clarified. "He stole all my blankets and ran like the little bitch that he is."

Gabe grabbed at his arm. Tugging and being just as obnoxious as he could be. "Aw, Luci, you always say the sweetest things. Isn't he sweet, Sam?"

"Not particularly." Sam said real slow and kind of apologetically.

If the kid didn't sound so guilty Nick might have managed to be offended, instead he found himself fighting down a laugh. Many things he was, but sweet? Nope. He made a point to never be sweet.

"His ass certainly is." Gabriel found a way to sound so very appreciative, and Nick went from amused to kind of flattered, to just a bit uncomfortable as Gabriel just kept talking. It only made some vague kind of sense, words running together and… was Gabriel talking about the highschool swim team?

Why?

Why is this what they were talking about?

No one needed to be reminded about the swim team.

No one new needed to be informed about the swim team either.

Luckily Gabriel seemed to be talking circles around himself and his tirade went south. Suddenly he was telling the story about how he and his wife had started experimenting with anal sex, which was actually not as unexpected as it could have been (in Nick's opinion) but it seemed to do a fairly impressive job of stunning Sam into an uneasy silence.

And silence was bad. Silence gave Gabe even more of an opportunity to say the wrong sorts of things.

"Nick said it hurt, but-"

"Isn't your lunch break almost over, Gabe?" He quickly interrupted, because Sam had specifically asked to not be told about any of these naked kinds of adventures that they weren't really having. For good reason. If last night was any indication, Sam really, really didn't want any kind of reminder or indication towards their pretend sex life.

"You were too vague." Gabriel huffed. "I want to know how it felt to get you on your back and Sam here's the only man who's done it. Who better to ask?"

And if any of what Nick had told his brother was real, then yes, Sam would be the man to ask.

"Leave him alone, Gabe." He kneed his brother a little more roughly than necessary. "Sam's a bit shy when it comes to this stuff- and he thinks you're a creep."

"Oh, he does not. What a mean thing to say, Luci."

Nick had no intention of pulling his shots. "He calls you the 'scary one'."

"Really?" Gabe managed to sound almost excited. Over the years he'd been the short one, the loud one, the smart one, the married one, the one with the long hair, and a slew of other things- but scary?

It was enough to distract him from the whole 'what's it like to screw my brother' thing that he was doing.

"I'm the scary one? Scary? I don't even have a criminal record like some other people I could mention. I'm as harmless as a baby bunny. The worst thing I do is sing a little too loud when I'm drunk."

"That is literally the only good thing that you do."

"You- you like my singing?"

"Your singing sounds like someone drowning a sack of cats- but at least your mouth is occupied so no one has to listen to your usual jackassery."

"Jackassery? This is coming from the man who called our Cas a repressed turtle. You illiterate ass hat. I have an underappreciated gift for language. I'm eloquent and charming as fuck."

"Well, if nothing else you make me come off as less of a creep by comparison, so I guess I appreciate that."

"You appreciate? You hear that god? He appreciates me. Well I can die happy how, can't I? Lucifer appreciates me."

Nick gave his brother such a pinch and they growled and grumbled and fought with their words and sharp punctuations of knees and elbows just like they had since the first day they met. There would be bruises later. Fraternal bruising. It was one of the best kinds of bruising to be had.

"Uncle. Uncle." Gabriel surrendered first, edging away from his brother, undoubtedly nursing a fairly exquisite Indian burn at this point. "For someone half dead you sure are mean."

"For someone so small you sure are a huge pain in my ass."

"Oh, and you know all about huge pains in asses, don't you?"

"More than you ever will." And that was meant to sound like more of a taunt but it just came out tired and strange.

"You just keep telling yourself that. I've got to get back to work anyways."

"Good."

"Good." Gabe repeated with a little snicker before leaning into the man pile and planting a fairly moist kiss on Nick's cheek before whispering "take one for me, ok? Maybe record it?"

"Fuck no."

"Please? I might be able to arrange a phone call from Las Vegas all the way out here to you… call it an even trade?"

It was only fair that Gabe knew how to push Nicks buttons right back. They'd known each other for far too long. "I'll take the request under consideration."

"Good man." Gabriel patted his cheek, though it was closer to a slap than anything else, and then he turned and fled from the fort before any retaliation could come his way.

Sam practically hissed at the intrusion of sunlight. "Where's he going?"

"He's got to get back to work. His lunch break is-" something very wet ran up the exposed underside of his foot and he yelped in a decidedly unmasculine way. "Oh god! What the hell, Gabe? Did you just lick my foot?"

"Eww, no. I don't want to get sick." Gabriel whined, despite the fact that he had kissed his brother less than a minute ago. "It was just the condensation from my glass."

He pulled his feet in and rubbed at the cold that had immediately sunk into his tender skin. There was a steady, quiet stream of profanity coming from his mouth, but Gabriel cut him off.

"You're such big baby. It's only water." He said while slapping at the table top to help accent the words. "I'll swing back by after work."

Either a threat or an offer.

Nick would pass on both accounts. "Please don't." He didn't think that he could handle another visit today. The long hour that he'd spent with Gabriel had all but exhausted him.

But Sam, bless him, he leaned his head against Nick's and said the most lovely thing. "It's alright, Gabriel. I'll be here with him."

Unfortunately the man outside the fort was having none of it. "You got him sick in the first place. And I like you kid, but you suck at taking care of him."

Which was practically blasphemy as far as Nick was concerned. He took a wild guess as to where his brother was standing and kicked at him though the blanket wall, feeling the satisfying solidity of bone.

"I'm fine." He told the world outside. "He's fine. We're fine. I'll call you tomorrow."

"You will call me tonight- or I can come by after work and we can play doctor." He made it sound like an absolutely terrifying prospect. A retaliation for kicking him. "I will give you such a checkup. You won't be able to sit for a week." And he'd do it. He really would. With a smile on his pointy little face.

"I'll call you tonight." Nick promised.

Which earned him a fairly sassy sounding 'mhmm' and Gabriel let himself out.

Nick practically deflated, putting all his weight against Sam and just closing his eyes. Somewhere deep inside he might actually love Gabriel- but if he did it was deep, deep down.

"Sometimes I have these really elaborate fantasies of my brother going on one of his vacations and just never coming back." He admitted without a hint of shame.

Sam laughed at that. "I won't play devil's advocate for him and tell you that's not nice… because I kind of wish the same thing."

"That's one of the reasons I like you." Nick admitted as he stretched himself out, filling up his half of the fort with ease.

"You wanna get out of here?"

"But all the blankets are here." He pointed out as he finally found his comfy with his legs thrown over Sam's lap. "And it's warm." And you're here. There didn't really need to be any reason other than that.

Maybe it was good enough for Sam too, because in the blind darkness, Nick could feel his friend settling, stretching out as well. A slash of light found its way inside and blinking wildly into the bright pain of it, Nick watched the other man laying down, sticking his head out from beneath the fort, taking a pillow with him. Then the dark returned, with the addition of a hazy golden halo around Sam's chest where the blankets were no longer laying flat.

He was content to just be at peace. To rest and be touching Sam in any way that was currently acceptable. He could feel himself becoming one with the warmth of the fort, his eyes closing, his spine settling into the cushions he was laying on.

"So…" Sam started almost hesitantly, like he didn't know if he should disturb the sounds of their silence. "I got to have my 'one sixteenth of the time' time?"

It positively tickled Nick that the guy remembered their agreement to the ratio of toppings and bottomings. "Yeah. You got your one time on top." He was happy to make it simple and leave the whole story at that. Sam didn't need a play by play of the event. He didn't want to know about all the messy, indelicate details and that was for the best.

"When did I manage that?"

Or maybe he did…

It was only natural to be curious...?

Telling Gabriel these things was kind of normal and easy, telling Sam was another story and Nick kind of struggled through it, grateful that they were separated and his friend couldn't bear witness to the incredibly incriminating blush that he felt crawling over his whole body as he recounted their night together with was as memorably hot as it was fake.

As it turned out, Sam didn't seem all that bothered by the rumor that he'd pinned Nick down and done some very bad and very good things to him. He actually asked if Nick was alright.

Which was either sweet or funny. It was hard to tell. "Aw, are you worried about all those bruises that you didn't actually give me?"

Sam just grunted in a noncommittal way and moved his legs beneath Nick's.

He was worried.

He didn't need to say it. The evidence had been in his voice.

Sweet kid that he was.

If Nick didn't know that the answer would be a resounding no , he would just ask his friend to run away with him at this point.

He opted to settle for more teasing instead, because as long as he kept his lips to himself, he knew where they stood and he didn't have to worry about any pride demolishing reactions. No need for a dramatic reenactment of last night. It hadn't gone too well after all.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah, Nick?" He asked hesitantly.

"You ever made out in a blanket fort?"

And Sam was laughing again, seemingly only too happy for the teasing.

They joked around a bit and eventually Sam put up a huff like he was supposed to, all that erotic subtext finally taking its toll. It meant that Nick won. Not sure what he won, but whatever it was was all his.

Through some mild negotiating the prize became Sam reading a bedtime story, just something that he pulled from one of the stockpiles of literature that had been discovered beside the table. Almost reluctantly, Sam read. Nothing special in his voice or the rhythm in which he spoke. It was obvious he wasn't used to reading out loud. Not that he was stumbling over his words or anything like that, he just didn't put as much emotion into the story as it deserved.

Two chapters in and he paused, leaving the main character stranded on a long stretch of grey beach. "I… I think that I'm missing something."

"It'ss the second book in the series." Nick explained sleepily.

"Well, where's the first one?"

"It's around here somewhere, but I've already read it." He'd read this one too- but it was his favorite and he was enjoying himself.

"Well I haven't and I don't know what's going on."

"You're a smart kid. You'll figure it out."

And Nick had no idea if Sam actually did figure it out, because he fell asleep to the sounds of his friend reading. Soft rise and fall of his voice better than a lullaby.

It was the same rough voice that woke him as Sam was leaving in a confusing jumble of long legs and flickers of sunlight. Nick was in no way interested in leaving the warm confines of his fort, but then he heard Sam getting the door, talking to his brother- and this meant that he was finally leaving.

Not 'finally' in a relieved sense of the word. It was with reluctance and more disappointment than was probably healthy to admit. It felt like an almost wasted week that they'd spent together. Mostly just sleeping and coughing alongside each other. Shared misery and a shared bed. Now that they were both on the road to recovery all Nick wanted was another day or two.

He would have to settle for saying goodbye instead.

He jimmied himself out of the fort, smacking his head, shoulder and hip on his way out in the most graceful of ways only to be struck by a wall of wintery air that felt positivity arctic against his sleep warm skin. He dismantled the southern wall of the fort, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders to hide his shivering from the steady gaze of the men beside the door who were both staring at him in an uncomfortable way.

"It's fucking cold out here." He told them, frowning because he shouldn't have to explain himself just because the two of them didn't respond to temperatures the same way that he did.

Dean was rosy cheeked and healthy, holding a large tupperware to his chest as he looked from Nick to the fort with a fairly judgmental weight to his eyes. Finally he seemed to make his decision on how to feel about this and he held out the container. "Soup."

It was almost a peace offering and it would be positively mean to say no. Almost irresponsible. So he shuffled over on bare feet, wishing that he had carpets, cringing every time his toes kissed the cold floor tiles, and took that soup and set it on the counter. "Thanks."

"You got sick taking care of Sammy. I owed you."

Well, Nick wouldn't say no to that either. However he did feel a swell of jealousy that he wasn't allowed to use the name 'Sammy'. That little taboo of nicknames only served to reiterate the ownership of that leggy, beautiful young man over there.

And that beautiful young man was smiling his beautiful young smile, which was just another reminder that Nick didn't need right now.

"Let me go get my stuff." Almost happy that he was going to be going home.

Gloomy feelings swam in Nick and he choked them down. He tried instead to make small talk with Dean, and it was as awkward as hell but they managed.

Nick pulled himself up onto the counter and let his legs swing while they talked about safe subjects that didn't involve anyone having intentions towards anyone else's little brother. Dean leaned against the wall like it was his very own and he smiled just as easily as Sam did so often- though it was a considerably more aggressive expression when he did it.

"Saw your car outside."

Nick could have asked how Dean knew which one was his, but there was only one old Mustang in the parking lot.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Almost as nice as mine."

"Hey now." He chuckled softly. "You don't come into a man's house and talk bad about his baby."

"Wouldn't dream of it, man." Dean's hand came up for a moment in a sign of surrender. "She's a fine piece of American ingenuity. I'm just not big on the color red."

"You prefer hearse black?" He wasn't looking to insult Dean's Impala, but it was a rather somber color- and anyways, everyone knows that red cars go faster.

"It's classy." Dean huffed.

"Must get hotter than hell in the summer."

"That she does."

Nick remembered something that he still found fairly fascinating. "Sam told me he stole the car when he was a teenager, took a girl to the drive-ins. Became a man."

Dean's teeth flashed. "He did, and I would have killed him if he hadn't had such a good time in there. Besides, he cleaned up the backseat afterwards. Apologized like hell, grinning the whole time. I was too proud of the son of a bitch to be mad."

"See, that's the age gap between you two talking. You get to be the proud big brother. Me and mine are all the same age. We weren't proud. We were competing to see who could get laid first."

"Who won?" Dean's eyebrows had hitched just a bit, curious little expression.

"Surprisingly, Michael. Beat me by two days. He was so damn proud of himself."

"Really? Dude's got a stick so far up his ass, didn't think he ever got laid."

That got Nick laughing. If his brother didn't have a small heard of children to call his very own then he'd be inclined to believe the same thing.

Sam stumbled back into the room before Nick could add anything to Dean's fair assessment of Michael. He almost smiled at them, kind of hesitating, eyes catching on Nick and his whole body shifted in an oddly anxious way.

"Hey… you ready to go?" Dean's whole posture had changed in reaction to Sam's return.

"Yeah." He moved his bag of clothes from one arm to the next, not meeting his brother's eye. Looking for all the world like a little kid trying to appear innocent. He half turned to Nick, but wouldn't look at him either. "Give me a call when you feel better, ok?"

Oh, like he was really just going to let Sam leave like that. With an audience? No way.

"Do I get a kiss goodbye?"

Sam's eyes lit up even as he made a face. Protesting just for show. "No. You're sick."

"You can't catch the same cold twice." He was quick to point out.

And Sam considered. Complicated thoughts practically visible on his face. This went on for almost five whole seconds before he shrugged and came over, standing close enough to kick.

"I can't catch the same cold twice." He agreed.

Ah, it was nice to hear that easy surrender. "Thanks for taking care of me, darlin'." Nick ran a big toe up the outside of Sam's left leg in a way that might have been perceived as flirting, but honestly it was just the most obnoxious thing that he could think of doing that didn't involve letting go of the blankets that he was still hugging tightly around himself.

"If I hadn't stayed to keep an eye on you you would have overdosed on cough syrup days ago, you old lush." Sam knew all the right things to say.

Just like Nick knew the right way to pout and look thoroughly insulted. "Yes, but I would have enjoyed it. You just don't like letting me have any fun."

He set his bag down on the counter beside Nick's hip and the older man looked into it curiously, then back at Sam who had managed to inch himself that much closer.

"Oh, for the love of- hurry up and kiss the bastard goodbye so we can get going." Dean yelled at them, obviously just as bothered by the whole show as they had hoped he would be.

Sam's eyes were crinkling on the edges, holding back a smile, enjoying this as much as Nick was. "I've got to go, Luci. You behave yourself."

Which was probably meant to piss him off, and even though hearing that nickname had lost so much of its sting over the years, he bristled because he knew that's what Sam was looking for.

"Keep calling me that and I swear to god I will bite you so hard."

Sam's little smile went crooked, his whole face lighting up. "Goodbye, Luci."

Fucking beautiful kid that he was.

And Nick tried to keep up that angry façade, but instead he just laughed, dry and a little painful as it tore at his raw throat. Luckily for him, that sharp noise was cut short as Sam gave him a grazing little kiss. Big ol' handful of blankets used to pull Nick down the few inches needed for their lips to brush.

All in all, it was considerably less impressive than their Christmas kiss. Still just as good. Only in a different way.

It would have been a damn shame to just let it go like this. A little peck and the end? Nick's arms were thoroughly trapped in the blanketly cocoon of his own creation- so it's not like he had all that many options on what to do with himself. He couldn't grab at Sam's ass like last time. He settled for that bite that he'd threatened earlier.

Wide eyed and close enough to touch, their lips still kind of lingering against each other in the same way that you'd let your shoulder brush against your friend's and you keep it there because you don't have a reason not to.

He bit Sam easily, not as hard as he wanted to- and who said that he had poor self control- and found that the younger man was returning his grin. Nick struggled not to start laughing again, which turned out to not be much of a problem because just like last time, Sam decided to kiss him.

He did a better job of it though. His eyes closing as he removed any question of distance between them in an unexpectedly aggressive surge. It was all teeth and tongue, and Sam was holding him by the blanket so tightly it was all Nick could do to just close his eyes and give in.

He didn't stop to wonder why this was happening. He was just kissing. Kissing Sam, and why the hell did it matter why? When you're expecting life to keep on giving you lemons and it suddenly slaps you in the face with baklava, you don't ask why. You just take a bite and hope that no one but you can hear you trying to stifle a moan.

And god, but he wished that his arms weren't trapped so that he could get a hold of Sam. Sam who was growling softly as he licked his way into Nick's mouth.

Never in his life had he not met that kind of gesture with something full bodied and carnal. Nick would have given just about anything to tangle a hand in Sam's hair, to get an arm around his waist and pull their bodies tight together. He settled for getting a knee on either side of Sam's hips, hooking his ankles around the man's knees and just kissing him back as hard as he could for the few short breaths that he was allowed to.

By the time that Dean started obnoxiously clearing his throat Nick was half hard, his whole body just aching and wanting and he knew he was a mess. A sexually frustrated, sexually confused mess. But Sam was pulling away (at least as much as he could with Nick's knees trapping him) and grinning like a fool.

Nick didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't that.

It looked like Sam had just told a punch line and was waiting eagerly to see if Nick got the joke.

Unfortunately, he did.

Dean was just right over there, panties in quiet the twist at having to stand witness to his kid brother trying to figure out what flavor Nick's center was.

Dean was the punch line.

Finding new and creative ways to upset his brother with this fake relationship that he and Nick had made expressly for just such a purpose was the whole sum and total of this incredibly bad joke.

Problem was, Dean wasn't the only one buying it anymore. It had been going on for too long now and Nick had started to believe it as well.

He knew that they were just friends He knew it in ways that were frankly quite depressing and rather painful, like right now- but his body didn't seem all that interested in that line of reasoning. Though to be fair, his body and he had rarely agreed on important matters since he met Sam two months ago.

Sam…

Sam's smile had slipped, all that boyish charm vanishing. Just like that. He finally realized that something was wrong. Nick wasn't laughing at the joke too.

Damn it. He was trying to. He'd always thought of himself as a rather convincing liar. Apparently Sam was an exception, because there was no way that Nick could look at him from this close and just pretend that he couldn't still taste his friend on the back of his tongue, or that his body wasn't hurting with the need to pull him back in and keep kissing him. All he managed was to school his face into something that he prayed came of somewhat neutral, and not lustful, or damning, or as self destructive as he felt. Because Sam ran last night and fuck every good intention that Nick had ever had because the kid was going to run again.

Dean sighed from back at the door where he was waiting. He could only see Sam's back from there. Broad shoulders and his mess of hair hiding most of Nick from view, which was for the best. Protective brother that he was, the man would almost definitely pick up that something had suddenly gone wrong. He wasn't a complete idiot. Even he would be able to figure out that that kiss wasn't supposed to happen like it did.

"Any time you two girls wanna' stop playing tonsil hockey, I'd like to get some dinner."

Sam's eyes had gone a little too wide. Fractions of emotions being schooled from his face, only to be glimpsed in confusing little flickers that left Nick to suffocate beneath increasingly higher amounts of despair.

"I've gotta go." Sam said carefully, looking for all the world like a rabbit caught in headlights.

He knew.

He had to know.

"That's a good idea." Nick said carefully. Sam could go- he should go. Take some time to remember how to breathe like humans do. Take a bit more time to come to terms with the knowledge that his friend wanted in his pants. And when that panic subsided, Nick could apologize. He could explain that he hadn't meant for it to happen. He didn't mean anything by it. It's not like he'd done it on purpose and he certainly wouldn't push it on Sam. Then he could just cross his fingers and pray that his friend wouldn't do the logical thing and break up this glorious faux relationship of theirs right then and there.

Sam was nodding too fast, almost like he could read Nick's mind. Yeah. He needed to leave.

Problem was that Nick's heels were still on the backs of his knees, still holding him in a loose circle. Hardest thing he'd had to do in years to let him go.

He stayed sitting on the counter for a few minutes after the Winchesters had left, staring at the door, willing the tightness in his gut to subside.

He lost that particular struggle and a hop from the counter and clumsy stagger later he was in the shower, forehead pressed to the tile as he rubbed himself off with quick, angry flicks of his wrist. Everything about this is wrong, he thought to himself as he finished with a low groan, sinking to the bottom of the tub to sit beneath the stream of water.

As solutions went, it had been complete crap. He felt somewhat worse now actually, definitely a little dirtier. Half an hour later the water had gone cold and he wasn't any closer to feeling ok with the things that he'd done today.

That's alright though. He had another solution to his problems.

A failsafe cure all.

And if nothing else, an hour and most of a bottle of vodka later, things didn't seem so bad. They didn't seem like anything actually, and that was ok with him.