I'm evil and slow. My bad. Pt 1 of Ch 19. Love you all like something that loves something else a lot.
Xx
"So don't worry 'bout tomorrow, take it today, forget about the tip, we'll get Hell to pay, have a drink on me! Yeah, have a drink on me! Ohhhh, have a drink on me."
"Oh dear God," Sam mumbled into his pillow as he slowly woke, scrunching his eyes shut tighter as he pushed his face down into the bed, "Make it stop." He pleaded before glancing up and over at the clock. Barely six-thirty.
"Im Dizzy, drunk and fightin, on tequila white lightnin'. My glass is getting shorter, on whiskey, ice and water!"
"Come on Dean," Sam whined, quickly calculating how many hours of sleep he'd actually gotten before he was so abruptly awaken, groaning when he realized it was a little over four. They'd stayed up last night, each keeping the other awake in favor of celebrating the news of their twin boys. Sam had been looking forward to a long, languid morning of sleep to compensate for it today. But was quickly abandoning any hope for that.
"Too early for ACDC man." He shook his head as he rolled over onto his back, continuing to listen to Dean scream one of his favorites, his voice cracking as it reached for a particularly high note and missed drastically.
Sam chuckled lowly, throwing a hand over his face as he pushed himself up and swung his legs out of bed, "Oh man." He whispered to himself as he stood and approached the bathroom door, a smirk dancing on his lips as he slowly and silently pushed it open and entered. Dean was too wrapped up in his blaringly loud solo to notice Sam had even come in.
"We'll get Hell to pay…"
-"Have a drink on me!" Sam yelled theatrically, cutting Dean off from his next line as he yanked the shower curtain back.
"Holy Je-sus man!" Dean yelped, his voice squeaking as it cracked again and he twitchily skirted backward, curling against the wall, "Fuckin' shit Sam!" He yelled, catching his breath for a minute before hesitantly pushing himself off the wall. His fear faded quickly, gradually being replaced by outrage as he watched Sam succumb to his hysterical fits of laughter.
"Goddamn Dean," Sam laughed, shaking his head as he used the wall for support, doubling over and clutching his rounded stomach. "Oh God dude, that was freakin' hilarious."
"I am so gonna kick your fuckin' ass dude." Dean gritted out between his clenched teeth as he advanced on his brother, bringing an arm around his neck as he dragged him into the shower.
Sam was still laughing by the time he was sopping wet, his boxers and white-T sticking to him like a second skin as Dean wrestled him into a nuggie, his knuckles rubbing his hair until it was sticking up in every direction.
Sam finally broke out of his brother's grasp and shoved himself back, standing up again. "Ass," he chuckled shaking his hair back into place.
"Ass?" Dean cried incredulously, "You're lucky I didn't have some kinda weapon handy, I woulda taken your freakin' head off dude. You scared the living hell out of me."
"You woke me up with your karaoke performance at six-thirty in the morning," Sam defended, "That was simple, well-deserved payback. Especially after keeping me up all night."
"Well, if I remember correctly, you definitely weren't complaining last night, but if I was mistaken…I'll be sure to keep my mouth to myself next time." Dean said threateningly, his brow cocked in feigned indifference.
Sam tilted his head, shooting him mock annoyance, "You know that's not the part I'm complaining about," He muttered, shaking his head, "You, waking me up after our all-night marathon of your mouth and…everything else…. That, I'm complaining about." Sam laughed lightly, raising his brow to emphasize his point.
"Well then I'm sorry to have disturbed your beauty sleep, princess," Dean apologized, hardly sincere as he gripped the bottom of Sam's wet t-shirt and pulled it over his head. "How 'bout I make it up to you."
Sam's interest peaked at the proposition, Dean's fingers slip-sliding along the seam of his boxers after they dropped his shirt to the shower floor. "Oh really, and how exactly do you plan on doing that?" He asked, his voice quiet and scratchy from sleep and now arousal, "That was a pretty incredible dream you interrupted." He said, finally taking a moment to look over his brother's naked, glistening body, inches away from him.
"Really." Dean questioned as his hands took their time pushing the last bit of material separating their bodies off of Sam's hips. "And just what was so incredible about this dream…that you couldn't be disturbed? Even to come take a shower with me." He asked, whispering breathily against Sam's lips as the boxers finally gave, smacking down to the floor.
"Well…when you put it like that," Sam began, his head tipping back to rest against the shower wall as Dean's lips nipped at his ear, "nothing."
"That's what I thought." Dean answered smugly as his mouth continued it's decent down the column of Sam's neck. "Let's move this to the bed." He mumbled into Sam's sternum, dipping his tongue out to taste the sleep on his skin.
Sam nodded numbly before lurching forward and shutting off the water, ripping the shower curtain aside and pulling them both out in a tangle of limbs. "Oh fuck," Sam moaned as they tumbled across their room and down onto a bed, still sopping wet. "You have no idea what you do to me." He muttered, squeezing his eyes closed as Dean's thigh pressed into his naked groin.
"I think I've got a clue." He whispered crashing into his mouth and plunging forward with his tongue, tasting everything he could reach as his hand found Sam's cock pressed snug against his and encased them both in his grip.
The breath punched out of Sam in an audible gasp as his body curled forward into Dean's, his brother's fist squeezing them together mercilessly. "Oh God." Dean groaned, his head falling down to Sam's pectoral, the wet spikes of his hairs leaving trickling beads of water dripping down his torso and onto the bed. "Mmngh," He grunted unintelligibly, throat constricting with his chest as his fist began pumping.
Sam's hands flew up to enwrap Dean, holding him close and breathing out a soft whimper as his back arced up beneath his brother. "Ah, yes, yes, Dean." He keened as the speed of Dean's fist increased around them. Sam drew his hand down Dean's back jerkily, stilling on his ass to squeeze the muscle harshly and knowing that there would be imprints of his fingers later, relishing in his mark.
Dean stuttered out a guttural moan, his ass flexing under Sam's rough hand as he ground their cocks together harder, thrusting up into his grasp. Sam's hand gradually unclenched, moving around to squeeze between their slippery bodies and finding their joined cocks enclosed in Dean's hand. He slowly approached his brother's grasp, stilling him with surprise as Dean opened his eyes and met Sam's narrowed, desperate gaze.
"Sammy." Dean said breathlessly, his body still instinctively rolling gently into his fist and rutting against Sam's. But Sam didn't answer, simply wrapped his own hand around Dean's - his fingers slipping in between each of his brother's - and slowly began to stroke them again, settling a much slower pace, intent on making it last.
"Mm-fu…" Dean huffed not getting a chance to finish his curse as his breath left him in a great whoosh. "You fuckin' tease." He said once he filled his lungs again.
"Damn right." Sam returned shakily, continuing to torture them with his languid pace, pausing on an upstroke to dip his fingers into their slits, gathering and mixing their precome to smear it over the sensitive ridges of their heads. "God damnet Sammy," Dean ground out, unable to help driving his hips into Sam's hand.
Sam threw his head back, crying out at the sudden jolt of friction that sent shocks of pleasure through his lower belly and down his twitching legs. He flexed his ass to push his hips up into Dean's, adding to the needed friction. "Shit Dean, 's close. 'M close." He mumbled, writhing gracefully under the torturously sweet sensations coursing through his veins and heating his skin.
"Yeah Sammy. Come baby. Wanna feel you all over us. Coating our hands, marking us." He whispered next to Sam's ear, his lips tickling over his skin, breath heavy and unsteady.
"Oh God, unh." Sam grunted through his clenched teeth, their fists now jacking them both furiously, bodies colliding into each other, both frantic for release.
Sam squeaked ever so faintly before all his breath came crashing out of him at once. He sucked in another quick inhale as his stomach contracted and he reached his climax, his head thrashing from side to side as his back bowed off the bed and his hands fisting the pillow under his head as he clung to the irrational but desperate hope of survival through his onslaught of pleasure. Every move he made a frantic attempt to endure this larger-than-life, on-the-verge-of-combustion sensation that coursed through his veins every time he reached climax under Dean's hands.
He gave his best effort toward keeping quiet but it was near impossible. Trying to quell every whimper and cry of pleasure proved too grueling as he waded through every cresting wave of his release.
"That's it babe." Dean said, watching Sam break apart beneath him, so utterly vulnerable and lost in his pleasure, completely reliant on him for everything in that moment, "Fuck you're so…" Dean grunted lowly, his words fading as his head dropped down roughly onto Sam's shoulder, his own release quickly building up in his groin, alighting his stomach on fire.
He took a deep breath to stave himself off and lifted again to look into Sam's eyes: half lidded and warm, filled with so much unadulterated love and passion as his body continued twitching threw his aftershocks he almost couldn't find his voice to finish.
"So beautiful like this." He finally breathed, barely managing to get the words out before losing it himself, throwing his head back in a silent roar as he shot his own release between them.
He vaguely registered Sam's free hand stroking down his face, whispering quite, gasped praises as he panted through his orgasm, each breath leaving him in a coarse growl.
"Ungh," Dean groaned loudly one last time as the last of his seed left him, glazing their still entwined hands as his body slowly lost its adrenaline and unwound, falling limp to the bed beside his brother. Sam's eyes were closed as he tenderly unclenched his hand from around them, letting Dean do the same.
"God…I have to go to work now?" Dean mumbled in a whisper, scooting closer to Sam who simply grumbled quietly in response and hugged him tighter, keeping him close to his chest. Dean hummed, sated and happy and tired again, ready to spend the rest of the day in bed with Sam.
They lay there like that until both began drifting to sleep, their bodies lax and heavy, molded into the bed and still drying from their shower, but warm from their shared body heat and the high of their climaxes. A few minutes later a screeching ring sounded to their left, startling both awake, confused and irritated until Dean registered what it was. The he was just irritated.
He groaned and hefted himself up, leaning over Sam to shut off their alarm. Sam looked up at him confused.
"Set a second one." Dean explained quietly, "Just in case this happened. Go back to sleep Sammy. I'll get a rag and clean you up." Sam's eyes began clouding once again, rolling up under his lids as they slowly shut with Dean's permission, pulling back under the throes of exhaustion. Dean smirked down at his brother, kissed him on the cheek and left to the bathroom to quickly wet a washcloth.
He first cleaned himself off and then washed the rag again, ringing it out before bringing it to his brother. Dean took Sam's hand and cleaned it off first, trying not to wake him in his ministrations. He moved to his stomach then, smiling as he stroked the rag over his stretched belly, working slowly so as to not irritate his brother's already over-sensitive, over-stretched skin.
Dean stilled seeing Sam squirm under him, his gaze roaming over his brother's face, watching as Sam's eyes flitted open and landed on him. "Sorry brother, didn't mean to wake you up again." Dean apologized, quickly continuing with gently rubbing down his brother.
"'S okay Dean." Sam whispered, his eyes tightening ever so slightly as Dean brushed the rag down his skin.
"Sensitive?" Dean asked, lifting the cloth and folding it in half to get a clean piece. Sam nodded minutely, knowing it'd do no good trying to hide it from his brother.
"Sorry Sammy, I'll pick up some of that cream stuff after work…whatever it's called." Dean said, brow lined.
"Stretch mark cream." Sam explained, his expression beginning to go lax again before his breath suddenly hitched and his muscles contracted, eyes widening in vibrant surprise.
"What – Sam? What's going on? What's wrong" Dean asked, panicked at the look on his brother's face. The rag fell to the floor and Dean moved closer to his brother, framing his face in his hands. "Sammy?" Dean repeated, his anxiety growing.
"Dean." Sam whispered in awe, suddenly sucking in another surprised, slightly pained breath before he quickly grabbed one of Dean's hands and held it low and to the right on his belly. "Oh my God." He breathed, staring into Dean's green eyes, seeing he was about to speak and quickly cutting him off, "Wait."
"Sam you're freaking me out, is something wrong, you in pain-?" Dean asked, ignoring his brother's command just before he felt something move up into his hand and slide back down.
Everything was quite for a matter of heartbeats before Dean looked up from where his hand lay and into Sam's wide eyes, "Holy shit."
"I know." Sam exhaled, looking back down to their overlapping hands resting on his stomach, still too shocked to say anything more.
Another kick pushed up into their hands, this one harder and sharper and Dean immediately broke into an ear-splitting grin before falling forward into Sam's mouth, licking at his lips and brushing his thumb over the spot they'd just felt their baby. He slowly moved back and traveled down the length of Sam's torso, his lips brushing over the place his hand had been, "It's about time, you little monsters." He whispered around a smile, chastely kissing the skin again.
He breathed out a contented, awed sigh feeling the wetness on his lashes as his eyes fell closed. Sam brushed a shaking hand through Dean's hair, smiling down at him before his brother pushed himself up off the bed, sniffing.
"God damn, if there was any day to call in..." Dean mumbled shaking his head, "I'm sorry Sammy," Dean breathed leaning in toward his lips once more, "I gotta go. 'M already late."
Sam grinned a little again and nodded, "Go Dean, we'll be fine." He said, his hand moving through Dean's hair and down his cheek, patting him lightly as his hadn rubbed over his moving stomach again. Dean grabbed his hand and pressed his fingertips to his lips.
"Love you Sammy." He said, ducking down once more to his stomach, "And I love you boys. Go easy on pops, huh? I'll teach you both how to box once you're out." Dean whispered, smiling and gently patting his brother's belly as Sam laughed, his stomach lightly shaking under Dean's lips as he kissed them goodbye before rushing to get dressed.
"Bye Sammy," Dean called as he stepped out of their bedroom, "See you at five."
"Bye Dean." Sam whispered once the room was already empty.
OoOoOoO
As soon as Dean got to work his eyes flew to the clock. He let out a huge sigh of relief to see he made it in just over five minutes late, quickly straightening out his uniform as he walked further into the mostly empty store.
"Dean," Jeff greeted as he walked passed the front entrance, walkie talkie in hand, "You're here."
"Yes sir, sorry I'm late. Where'd you like me today, I'll get started right away." Dean offered, hoping he hadn't screwed up too badly in just his second week.
"We'll have you on floor today. Been watching you this past couple weeks, you're a people person. Think you'll do well there. Up for it?" Jeff asked, pocketing his communication device and patting his newest employees shoulder.
"Yes sir, of course."
"Dean, enough with the 'sirs'. Think you've about earned the right to call me Jeff from now on."
Dean beamed at his boss, "Thanks, Jeff."
The manager simply nodded and looked around the store, "Well we're a little slow this morning. How about a quick check in." He asked, walking with Dean as they meandered through the store, "Like to see how my employees are doing from time to time. So how's the soon-to-be father?"
Dean raised his brow, looking at the ground as he slowly shook his head, a small smile blossoming across his face.
"Honestly?" He asked, hesitating a moment, his arms crossing over his chest, "Absolutely terrified." He admitted, shrugging. Jeff nodded understandingly, a smirk on his lips.
"They moved today, the twins. For the time. Just before I got here." Dean revealed, the awe and wonder vivid in his voice, "I felt them under my hands, you know? Alive and moving and it just…God it was the most amazing moment. But…it also made everything glaringly real. Not to mention the fact that I just learned they're gonna be boys yesterday." He smirked, his head tossing back and forth again, "I guess it's just a lot to take in at once."
Jeff let out a long whistle just as a high-pitched voice sounded behind them, "I'll bet." Someone exclaimed and Jeff and Dean turned to see Jess standing behind them, stocking tools in an isle.
Dean chuckled shaking his head at her eavesdropping.
"Just what I was going to say," Jeff said, patting Dean's shoulder. "But seriously, hang in there kid. Even if I don't know what it's like to be a father, I know how stressful being responsible for another person can be, so remember to take it one day at a time." He smiled encouragingly. Dean smiled his thanks before Jeff turned and nodded to Jesslyn, spinning on his heal to leave.
"Oh and Dean," Jeff called, turning back around. Dean snapped his head back up toward his boss expectantly, "Congratulations."
He grinned hugely, laughing his dizzy excitement, "Thank you sir." Dean answered sincerely, "I mean Jeff."
His boss snickered and waved them off once again, moving on to inspect the rest of the store.
"Damn," Jess said, watching Jeff leave, "He took to you pretty quick." She smiled, slapping Dean's arm and moving back to her stocking.
Dean shrugged, "Seems to me he's like that with all his workers."
"Yeah pretty much." Jess agreed, "But still, it usually takes him a little longer to invite people into the family of Jack's Hardware," She said, lowering her voice to mockingly impersonate their boss.
Dean shook his head and laughed, "Well what can I say, my charm can be pretty damn irresistible I guess." He said, nudging her in the shoulder as he began helping her with the shelves.
Jess scoffed and shoved him back, "Yeah right." They continued working in silent for a couple minutes.
"So you and the mom still together?" Jess asked offhandedly, avoiding Dean's eye as she continued putting boxes on the shelf.
Dean's brow crumpled, thinking over that question once he processed it and going over how exactly he should answer. If any of these people were going to be in their lives, which admittedly was unlikely, but still, if they were, he would have to come up with a reasonable story that they could believe.
"Um, it's…complicated actually. Really complicated." Dean brushed off while still trying to come up with something believable to say.
"Oh, okay. Well, I mean it's not like you owe me any explanation." Jess shrugged indifferently, "But it would make it a little difficult to ask if you'd wanna go to a party with me this weekend."
Dean's brow cocked, a smirk tugged at his lips, "Oh yeah?" He asked, smug in his dead-on ability to predict women. "And why would my complications make a party invitation difficult?" He drawled, playing along.
Jess stopped, her eyes cracking up to Dean as her brow twitched. Dean caught the momentary lapse without ever taking his eyes away from his working hands.
"Why wouldn't it?" Jess shot back, forgoing her attempts to figure out Dean's blasé response and quick alteration of attitude, "Am I gonna have some crazy, pregnant, hormonal chick coming after me with a chain saw if I take you out?"
Dean sucked in a deep breath, set his last box on the shelf, and spun toward Jess, his brow angled and his gaze amused, "Jess sweetheart…" He started, his hand coming down on her shoulder, "I'm gay."
He walked around her, leaving her standing there agape, mouth sealed tight and eyes like dinner plates, helping her finish with her load of merchandise while simultaneously letting her regain composure in private.
"Right." She eventually said, loping to the other side of the crate to continue unloading, "Should've picked up on that one, what with all the rainbow flags and flamboyant attitude shooting out your ass." She shook her head chuckling, "You must be the straightest gay guy I've ever met."
Dean tittered at just how right she didn't know she was.
"But wait, then, where are the kids coming from?" She asked, obviously forgoing the time it took to construct the correct phrasing for her real question.
Dean ignored the slip and answered, albeit untruthfully, what he knew she wanted to know. "I slept with some girl a while back. Momentary lapse of judgment, pleading insanity. I'm not gonna get into it. Just know, my life doesn't have a whole lot of time for parties right now Jess, but thanks for the offer." He explained as they emptied the cart, "I'm gonna get on floor now before Jeff has my ass. I'll see ya." He called, letting out a sigh of relief as he reached an appropriate distance to do so.
He shook his head and chortled under his breath once more as he replayed their conversation, wondering just what would attract a woman to a guy months away from becoming a father.
A father to two beautiful boys with a man he loved more than life itself.
Dean checked the clock once more, unable to help resurfacing the memory of his children moving under his hands or the soft press of Sam's lips on his and quickly calculated the number of hours separating him from the moment he could slide behind the wheel of his baby and get the hell back home.
OoOoOoO
The well-worn, sleep-warmed sheets tangled tightly around Sam's limbs as the deep world of his dreams claimed him, tossing and turning him around in his bed until he resembled a caterpillar, snug and restrained tight in it's cocoon. He squirmed and moaned as vivid displays of an imagined future played out before him - houses and picket fences and playgrounds and high school - until a sudden clanging sound jolted him awake.
"What the-" Sam started, trying desperately to grab for the knife under his pillow. His arms were stuck in his self-enforced restraints. "What-" He flailed again, trying to wriggle more efficiently as another scrapping sound rattled the walls of his room, "Oh my fucking hell, what did I do?" Sam exclaimed under his breath, looking down at his still entrapped body, a little in amazement and a lot in incredulity, finally slowing his brain down enough to think like the hunter he was and untangle himself before seizing his knife.
He heard another soft clicking sound outside his window and saw a silhouetted mass framed in the light pouring through his curtains. He slipped on his boxers and t-shirt quickly but approached slowly, standing off to the side of the window before he yanked back the heavy curtains.
"What the hell!" Someone sputtered outside in faultless shock, retreating quickly before an audible exhale was released. "Shit, man, you scared me!" The man said slowly as Sam encroached past the window lining to peer outside at the threat.
He watched the man take in a better picture of him, stumbling closer as his face pinched up in exertion and confusion, studying him. Sam's nerves immediately launched on edge.
"Sam?"
Sam recoiled at the mention of his name: who was this guy, knowledgeable of his identity and currently trying to break into his room?
"Sam Winchester?" The guy breathed, his face pinching up in what Sam could only discern now as pain, his body swaying precariously on the roof before his window. He looked drunk. "That you? Damn i's been a while." A shake of his head, "You don' 'member me do ya kid." He sounded drunk too.
It was Sam's turn to shake his head, still distrustful of every part of the exchange.
The guy laughed, "It's Caleb."
Sam's brow hit the roof, "Caleb?" He cried, "What the hell? I thought you were on your deathbed at some motel? Isn't Bobby supposed to be staying with you?" Sam asked, quickly moving to grab his extra large sweatshirt and pulling it over his head before ambling toward the window, flipping the latch.
"Well, he went out to grab us lunch, so I thought it'd be the perfect time." He answered as he gingerly climbed through the window and over the salt line, moaning and grunting with every move, no matter how slight.
"Jesus man, lay down before you drop. Meyer'd be pissed if you messed up all his handy work," Sam said as he led Caleb to the bed he hadn't been occupying and forced him down, "If you haven't already." He muttered, giving the man a cursory over-glance.
"Seriously man, what are you doing here? How did you get here? And perfect time for what?" Sam shot off in a ramble, grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand and shoving it toward the hunter's lips.
"I'm here because I'm bored. Those two old women faun after you long enough and you'll do just about anything for a little fresh air." Caleb took a labored breath to continue as Sam cut him off.
"So you come here?"
"Good point," Caleb shrugged, "But, if you let me finish…I'll explain. Cause I'm here for a little mystery solving." He explained, eyes squinting overdramatically, as if sharing a confidential secret with someone forbidden to hear, "Ya see there's a reason they wouldn't let me come here to stay Sam." Caleb revealed, his beaded eyes scanning the room as if the answer lay right before them. Sam's face flushed red.
"I intend to find out what the two old geezers are hiding. Taking it upon myself to solve the vague and mysterious mystery that is currently 'The Singer's Salvage.'" He drunkenly disclosed, "Oh, and, I got here with a car. My car. Most people are using them these days Sam, read up on it. Pretty cool lil' invention." He said, laughing deeply at his own joke, completely delirious as he soon fought to catch his breath.
Sam blinked hard, his expression stern and dazed and dubious as he considered the drugged hunter before snapping out of it and quickly steadying the man, "Okay take it easy big shot. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you are currently high on a generous amount of pain meds for a few pretty extensive injuries, so how 'bout we save the laughing fits for another time." Sam coached, encouraging the man to take another drink.
"But Sam, there was another question." Caleb breathed after he complied, "What…what'd ya ask again?"
"You answered all my questions Caleb," Sam praised taking the drink back again, "Except maybe one. Why were you climbing in the window instead of just using the front door?" Sam asked as it dawned on him.
Caleb looked at him like he was absolutely off his rocker, "Sam." He began sternly, "This was a mystery. The Singer Salvage is room and board to something big and something hidden. I couldn't very well just waltz in the front door and ask; I was investigating. Well, trying to at least. Until you-" Caleb's expression morphed as he chopped his sentence short, "Wait, Sam, why are you here if I'm not allowed here? And for that matter…where's the other half to this infamous duo? Dean around too?"
Sam's eye brows twitched as he glanced to his lap, his mouth dropping open to speak without producing any real sounds.
"Um, Dean's around." He shrugged before casually standing, "Caleb you looked wiped, you just drove yourself here heavily medicated and severely injured before scaling a two story wall, with one leg and one arm…" Sam shook his head in sheer amazement as he thought over just how exactly he'd managed, "You should rest for a bit. I'll, uh, get you up for dinner." Sam said, leaving no room for argument as he left the room, being sure to keep the door cracked open before quickly dropping down the flight of stairs and into the library.
"Meyer, thank God you're here." He breathed, exempted at finding the doctor still in the house. He spotted him before a window, hand on chin as he leaned forward, obviously staring at something intriguing outside.
"Sam. Why is there a…ladder up against the roof in front of your window?" The doctor asked, implication that he already knew the answer all over the disapproving tone of his voice. "If this is some game you and Dean have cooked up to get in and out of that room without us knowing think again because that ladder could not be any less obvious-" Meyer explained, waving toward the device in question as he ranted on.
"Meyer!" Sam shouted, "We're not using the ladder." He spluttered, disbelieving of the idea that Meyer could think they would be so idiotic, "Caleb's here, and I guess that's how he got up to my window without scaling the wall. Thought that sounded a little impossible, even for him."
"Caleb's here?"
"In my bedroom, hopefully asleep. Don't ask me how he got here doped up on all the shit you've got him on but he is, and he obviously knows I'm here now." Sam took a breath, "And you wanna know why he's here? Because 'The Singer Salvage is a mysterious mystery' he's come to solve." Sam said, outraged by their newest predicament, "Says he was bored of being holed up and he knew you two were 'hiding something here' being vague about why he couldn't stay. He came to investigate."
"Oh this is not good."
"No Meyer. I wouldn't say so."
"Did he say anything about…?" Meyer's hands gestured to the large mound of Sam's stomach, concealed beneath the thick fabric of his over-size sweatshirt.
"No." Sam took a breath, "But we can't exactly hide it forever now, can we?"
OoOoOoO
Dean's day had been going particularly well and he was on cloud nine knowing he could say that meaning every word. The morning had been pure magic, the hours had flown by at work and now he was on his way out the automatic doors of Jack's Hardware and back to the home he was currently craving.
He slid in behind the wheel of his beloved - just as his mild-mannered daydream had had him doing earlier that morning - and turned his key, waiting for the comforting rumble of the engine under his feet. And he continued to wait, patiently. Nothing happened.
Dean twisted the key again, trying once more but again, nothing but a few lame attempted spins of the engine sounded under the hood.
"No." Dean breathed in disbelief, "Come on baby, you can't do this to me, not today." He tried again, "I take good care of you, you know that. Don't fuckin' do this…damnet." He slapped the dashboard, relishing the burn in his palm as he forcefully wrenched open the door and moved around to the front hood, unlatching the lock and yanking it upright.
He leaned over the engine, searching out the problem and almost immediately noticed his battery missing, the cover forcefully ripped off and under it, an achingly empty hole. Someone swiped his goddamn battery.
"Are you fucking with me?" Dean cried, throwing his hands up as he looked in disbelief over the missing contents of his car.
"Dean?" A timid, curious voice called behind him. "What's up? Car trouble?"
"You could say that." Dean grunted, turning around to face his coworker. "Someone actually swiped my battery, in the middle of the goddamn fucking parking lot, they stole my battery. How? It was busy today, how would no one notice?" He yelled in frustration.
Jess took another step closer to look for herself, hissing in a breath as she studied the damage, "Damn, I'm sorry dude." She said patting his chest before backing up, "I can give you a ride home if you need?"
Dean sighed rubbing a hand through his short hair and shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his bearings and force down his overwhelming anger to answer her.
"No," He grit out as calmly as he could, "I'll call a friend to come get me."
Jess recoiled a little at that, her face confused, "What am I, chopped liver?"
"No, no." Dean retracted, realizing what he'd said, "No, he can just…he'll bring me…" What, a new battery? Dean didn't know what excuse he was trying to concoct but it was failing pretty miserably, "Uh, well…" He fumbled, pulling his cell out and clicking a button as he stalled. But then he noticed nothing happened. It was dead.
"Fuck," He groused, "Well, um, God this day turned around fast." Another breath, "Okay. Yeah, I guess a ride would be nice. Thank you." Dean accepted, still uneasy at the idea of bringing an outsider to their house but choosing the easiest way he saw out, simply yearning to see his brother again.
Sam was still grumbling uneasily around the house, hours later, when an unfamiliar engine sounded the arrival of an unfamiliar car pulling up into their drive.
"What the hell?" Sam whispered approaching the window and pulling back the curtains. There was a black Toyota parked out front; he noticed Dean in the passenger seat, looking over at the driver: a women about the same age, her long red locks flowing over well displayed cleavage. Sam hated her right away.
She leaned over the middle console, unsubtly flashing said cleavage in Dean's face as she pulled her lips back in a quick smile, laughing raucously at something his brother said.
Sam felt blood heating his face as he studied the exchange, his teeth grinding between clenched jawbones. His eyes glued themselves to his brother as Dean continued speaking, his own smirk pulling at his lips as he tilted his head in what could only be interpreted as a bow of thanks and opened his door, climbing out.
The red head waved overzealously at Dean as he padded towards their front door, his brother turning to wave back. Sam slowly turned himself around on the couch he'd been leaning on to face his brother as he came through the door.
"Hey Sammy." Dean greeted, his voice low and gritty, telltale signs of distress.
"Who was that?" Sam asked as casually as he could, his eyes flipping over to the window to indicate his meaning.
"Just some girl at work." Dean shrugged, "You won't believe what happened-"
"What girl at work?" Sam disrupted. His brother's brow crunched together.
"Jess. The one who trained me…" He answered, his confusion clear in his tone and expression, "Why does it matter? I'm trying to tell you what-"
"It matters because without hearing a word of that conversation and from watching a hundred feet away, it was way too damn clear that she was throwing herself at you, Dean." Sam explained calmly, his underlying anger just barely hiding beneath the surface.
"Oh come on Sam, you seriously jealous right now?"
"Well considering your past, the one I'm all too familiar with, I don't see why I shouldn't be? She's exactly your type Dean, big boobs and a vagina. What am I supposed to do, just let it go and wait for you to slip?" Sam asked coolly, venom pulsing in the meaning of his words. His out-of-control hormones exacerbated by the crazy stress of the day threw him into an irrational rage at seeing their flirty exchange.
Dean stood there stock-still and fuming. His nostrils flared, his hands in fists, his back rigid and shoulders tense. "I have done nothing to deserve this." He enunciated slowly, one pointed finger stabbing at the floor in time with his clipped words.
"Sam, Dean." Meyer said, coming down the flight of stairs slowly, obviously having heard a good portion of their conversation, "Um, I…I don't mean to interrupt but we kind of have a situation to discuss."
TBC