Making coffee shouldn't be this hard, but in Nick's defense, this wasn't his kitchen and he had absolutely no idea where the Winchester brothers had decided was the best place to keep the sorts of things he was looking for.

After the third incorrect cupboard Sam made a rather frustrated noise. "Oh, for god's sake." The young man muscled him out of the way, steering him towards the table. "I'll do it."

"But you don't know how I like my coffee." He argued even as he let himself get planted in a chair. He watched in something like reverenced awe as Sam put together a rather perfect cup of coffee and placed it in front of him before claiming a seat for himself.

Nick looked up, wanting to say thank you, or maybe just cry, because he was that tired at this point in the morning, but Sam's bitter expression stopped him dead.

Something had gone wrong (again) between last night and right now. But Sam was the captain of mixed signals and Nick honestly didn't know if he was coming or going half the time.

First Sam wanted to break up early, then he wanted Nick to stay the night. He had changed clothes night right there in the same room, stunning glimpses of winter pale skin, then he'd gotten into bed, put his back to Nick and simply said 'goodnight'. And the older man really, really, wanted to believe that there was some kind of potential here for something deeper if he only knew how to tap it- what sort of thing that Sam needed to hear from him to change his mind about their particular flavor of relationship.

Sadly the only thing Nick was sure of at this point was that people don't just convert to new sexualities. Watching his baby brother go through highschool with a baker's dozen worth of crushes aimed at every and any straight boy who crossed his path, had taught Nick that much. He just never thought that he'd end up doing the same thing. If it had been hard to watch Castiel suffer through one unrequited love after another, it was twice as bad being the one going through it.

Chin up and all that.

If nothing else it was almost done.

"You alright?" He managed to ask.

"Yeah, just a bit tired."

Which might not have been a lie on account of they'd probably only managed about six hours of sleep between the two of them and if he hadn't been abandoned and cold, Nick would have just stayed upstairs in Sam's bed and tried to claim at least another hour.

God, his hands were starting to shake. He sipped at his perfect coffee, letting the heat and comfort it offered settle deep inside of him.

"Do you have class later?"

"Not until after noon."

He offered without even thinking. "I can give you a ride."

"No. That's alright." Sam said just as quickly.

And so they were back here. Less than a week left together and Sam was already half gone. Hadn't there been some kind of mention of staying 'friends' once this was done? Whatever happened to that?

Them kissing in Nick's kitchen is what happened to that one.

But they'd agreed that it hadn't happened and Nick flatly refused to let a ghost kiss ruin a good thing.

"You want to run away from home together instead?"

"We did that last night." Said Sam the party pooper.

"But we don't have to come back this time." He countered, trying to sweeten the deal. "I've got some money saved up. Anywhere you want to go." Not an offered he'd ever given anyone before. Not to a brother and not even to the devil woman he had married. But for Sam?

Nick was prepared to offer up everything short of a virgin sacrifice, but mostly because he wasn't sure where to find one.

Sam got a little smile that he didn't even attempt to hide. "I've got class in a few hours."

"After class."

Sam rolled his eyes so hard it must have hurt. "I've got classes for the next four months."

He was just being difficult at this point.

"After those classes?" Next year. Three years from now. Eighty-two Thursdays from this point. He was willing to take whatever he could get in the way of time frames.

Sam was worrying the inside of his cheek, those dimples of his peeking. He chewed on his words for a bit before finally getting out, "For the summer, as friends? Sure."

Nick had only been offering as friends, but still. Sam didn't have to emphasize it like that. Some pains could reach down past his spinney outside layer and do real damage. Some days were harder than others to pretend he was still doing ok.

"How… do you feel about camping?" Sam asked softly and when he was greeted with Nick's stunned silence he pressed on. "We can go to Yosemite." A small smile. "Maybe we'll even see a bear."

Nick laughed. He couldn't help himself. Sam had remembered that stupid bear story from Thanksgiving. The one that had been getting Nick in trouble at family get togethers for years. But, damn it all, Michael hadn't seen any bears.

He found himself laughing and joking with Sam in the same way that they'd been doing for months, and for a few seconds the world felt right and good. Right up until the foot fight, kicking mercilessly at each other's shins. The table got bumped one too many times and coffee sloshed right out of Sam's mug, leaving a dark, ugly spill to race across the tabletop, heading straight for the floor.

Sam was up surprisingly fast, running for the paper towels, swearing softly under his breath.

Just as quickly, Nick managed to cup his hands and catch most of the spill before it reached the floor. The fact that the coffee was hot took longer than it should have to dawn on Nick, his palms going from pleasantly warm to 'oh god, why' rather quickly.

"I got it. I got it." Sam nudged his shoulder with a hip, standing rather close as he sopped up the mess. "See, this is why we can't have nice things."

Nice? "No offence, but it's kind of a crappy table." The little spill wasn't going to cause any real damage.

"I meant the moment." Sam sighed. "The moment was a nice thing."

Nick dared a peek upwards, eyeful of the handsome young man from this close up, all strong lines and broad shoulders. If he just turned his head a little more he would be able to bury his face in his friend's rather pleasant stomach. The things that he would like to do to that boy's midsection. Even after just the littlest, fleeting glimpse again last night, Nick couldn't stop thinking about it. He was suffering from some kind of post-traumatic-chest disorder.

Gee, it sure was a good thing that he was just so damn comfortable with his wavering sexuality as of late. Mind you, he'd never actually considered himself straight- he'd never considered himself much of anything. You either want to touch girls, or you want to touch boys. A simple binary formula if there ever was one.

But seeing as Sam was actually not the first guy that Nick had kissed, perhaps it was a bit too late to really worry about his orientation anyhow. And the fact that Nick pretended that that first boy had never happened was not the sign of a pattern, just an odd coincidence that would also be ignored.

"Are you planning to save that for later?" Sam asked gently, eyeing Nick's cooling handful of coffee.

"… maybe." He shouldn't feel guilty for the thoughts that he kept having about Sam, right? But he did. Enough so that he finally got up from the table and dumped the coffee in the sink, slowly washing his hands. Taking all the time in the world to collect himself.

"I'm not all that big on camping." He confessed to Sam's odd reflection in the window over the sink.

"Oh… are you more of a road trip to Tijuana type instead?" The kid joked so easily.

Honesty always felt a bit dangerous around his friend, but it was hard to stop now. "I'm a 'I'll follow you anywhere you want to go- but I'd prefer it not be camping' type."

Sam seemed to consider this for a while before making a third offer for their vacation. One more insane than the others by leaps and bounds. "Backpacking across Russia."

Nick turned to face him with a start. "Ok. No." He said firmly. "that's still basically camping, but you have to walk all day- and why the hell Russia?"

With a small, almost encouraging smile, Sam expounded on the good points of mother Russia, but all Nick heard was 'bears'.