Things do look better in the morning. Dean's mind has settled down after his stupid move of showing up unannounced at Castiel's door last night. The adrenaline from the game has worn off and today Dean has nothing scheduled. No game, no practice, and no press. The only thing he has on his agenda for the day is to go to the gym later to stay limbered up until their next contest.

"So what'd'ya say, Sammy? Workout, lunch, then we can catch some events this afternoon? Lemme see what's on the schedule," he says as he pulls up an app on his phone that tells him what Olympic events are scheduled each day and where.

"Sure, man, I could use the distraction," Sam mopes and sits on the edge of his bed across from Dean.

"Dude, what's wrong with you today? You just won your first Olympic game last night and today you're acting like someone stole your puppy."

Sam runs a hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably, "It's Ruby."

"Ruby? That girl from the other night?"

"Yeah. I, uh, went to see her last night. Didn't turn out so well."

Dean is skeptical, he remembers that Jo told him Ruby was trouble but his kid brother looks like he was just rejected by his crush so he decides to go easy on him. Cautiously, he asks, "OK, so?"

"So get this. I go to the bar to meet up with her and there she is, making out with someone else."

"Aw, man, sorry Sam."

"It gets better, the someone else… a blonde girl named Lilith!"

Dean can't help the stupid smirk that comes over his face, "Sounds kind of hot!"

Sam just huffs and rolls his eyes. Dean knows Sam gets all squirmy and uncomfortable when he jokes about sex. He laughs at his prude of a little brother. The guy gets his share of action but he definitely doesn't share Dean's affinity for lewd jokes and innuendo.

"Whatever, Dean. I just didn't think she was like that."

"Like that?"

"You know… gay," Sam says in scandalized whisper like someone might hear him.

The sentence hits Dean like a ton of bricks. He's spent the last several days having some pretty gay thoughts about Castiel and just when he thought maybe, just maybe, he could act on them he is reminded that his brother has no idea he is occasionally into guys.

Sam, the brother who was raised by their uber-masculine father around the very straight world of professional sports. He is the little brother who has always looked up to Dean as the example of how to be a man, the kid brother whom he had taught everything from how to shave and how to talk to girls. Dean had even been the one to give Sam the talk. And now Sam is the brother who is standing in front of him whispering the word gay as if it's a contagious disease.

What would his brother think if he knew how Dean felt? Would he see Dean any differently, any less? Would he still look up to him? Would he stand by him if he ever came out and the shit hit the fan about him being the first openly bisexual player in the NHL?

The questions bombard his thought process and cause a growing sense of panic in his chest. No, he decides, he isn't going to let his brother know. He'll just have to ignore this thing with Cas and go back to girls. He likes girls just fine so what's the big deal about denying his feelings about this one guy?

Just as his brain filters through his list of jokes he can throw out to divert attention away from the awkward moment, there is a knock on the door. A short man dressed in all black barges into the room. It's Fergus Crowley, the Winchester's agent. The guy is slippery as a greased pig and has a completely obnoxious superiority complex. Dean cringes because he can barely stand the guy. But he is the best contract negotiator in the business so Dean bites his tongue and deals with the jackass.

"Hello, boys," he greets them in his slick British accent.

"Crowley, what are you doing here?" Dean asks.

"Saving your hide. Now you've got five minutes to be ready to face reporters."

"What's going on? What do we need saving from?" Sam asks.

"You, Moose? Nothing. The squirrel in heat over there," Crowley gestures towards Dean, "well, he and his little figure skating boy toy have garnered the attention of one nosey Lois Lane."

"W-what? What are you even talking about?!" Dean manages to sound completely affronted while avoiding the inquisitive gaze of his brother.

"Don't play coy with me, lover boy. You know I don't care who you choose to get… biblical with. But your lack of discretion and choice of timing is impeccable as always. Did you really think no one was going to notice you eye-fucking a sexy Russian skater?"

"I didn't-"

"Dean, my sources tell me one Becky Rosen has pictures of your little date night and holding hands on the ice yesterday?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?! That was a closed practice and we weren't holding hands! There's nothing going on!" Dean snaps.

Crowley rolls his eyes, "Dear God, how are you managing to walk upright? Do you honestly think the truth matters? This is the media! All these sharks need is one drop of blood to start the feeding frenzy. And you, my reckless friend, have given them all the ammunition they need. Now, the clock is ticking and you need to get down to the press area so that I can work my magic and fix this."

"But how-"

"Trust me," Crowley condescends and Dean is pretty sure that those are the two most ridiculous words that have ever come out of this guy's mouth. "You pay me handsomely to keep your screw ups out of the tabloids. Remember, I'm the puppet master here. I just need you to shut up and smile like a good little dummy."

Dean growls, "Should just bend over while I'm at it?!"

Crowley smiles at him, "Save that for your steamy skater."

"Fuck you, Crowley!"

"You can save that for him too, just be a little more discreet." Crowley turns on his heel and exits the room.

Dean is left staring at the closed door, afraid to turn around and look at his brother. Without making eye contact he asks, "Remind me again why we still deal with that epic douchebag?"

"Just count the zeros on your last contract," Sam laughs uncomfortably.

"Yeah, well, still makes me feel like I made a deal with the devil." Dean finally turns around to face his brother who looks stunned at the whole interaction.

"Dean, what's going on?"

"I… nothing, man… I don't know. Just… don't worry about it. You know, just stupid tabloid stuff. I'll take care of it. I gotta go."

Dean escapes the room before he has to answer another question from his little brother. His brain works on overtime wondering what he is going to say to the press, what Crowley has planned to fix this. Shit! He hasn't even done anything with Cas and now he has to stand in front of a bunch of asshole reporters and defend himself? He gears up for accusing questions about his sexuality from perfect strangers – questions that he himself hasn't really even come to terms with yet.

But when he steps into the press room what greets him isn't a bunch of scandalized bloodhounds, but instead a group of encouraging faces and flashing cameras. Suddenly, soft lips are on his and arms thrown around his neck.

Bela makes the kiss quick before standing on her tip toes to hug Dean and whisper in his ear, "Just go with it, Dean."

She releases the still stunned hockey player and turns towards the crowd, grabbing Dean's hand and smiling brightly. She leans into him and poses as the cameras click away, places her hand on Dean's chest and nudges him until he wraps his arm hesitantly around her waist. Dean's brain finally catches up to the action happening around him and he pastes on a fake smile for the press as well, letting Bela take the lead in this charade.

Dean catches sight of Crowley standing off to the side of the crowd looking exceptionally pleased with himself. He has obviously set this farce up to divert the presses attention away from Becky's story, get news about Dean and Bela out there preemptively so that Becky's story would look ridiculous and unfounded in comparison. It's a good strategy but one that makes Dean a little sick to his stomach.

This whole mess has gotten completely out of control. He is here to play hockey, not play the freaking Dating Game!

Dean hears the members of the pressing yelling out his name and Bela's along with questions that all seem to all get muffled together. Again, Bela takes the lead and puts her hand up to quiet down the crowd.

"Dean and I would like to thank you all for your interest. We never expected to come here to these Olympic games and find love but life is funny that way. Sometimes, you just meet the right person in the most unexpected of situations, isn't that right, darling?" Bela coos and looks up at Dean.

"Uh… yeah," Dean manages while thinking that, yes, the right person may come along as a surprising twist in life but he sure as hell isn't standing next to his 'right person.' He can do this, though. He can fake his way thought this dumb dog and pony show and get the stupid reporters off of the trail of him and Castiel.

"Mr. Winchester," one female reporter shouts above the others, "you won your first Olympic game last night. How did you celebrate?"

"Uh, after the game, all I could think about was celebrating with someone I really care about-"

"So we spent a perfect evening together," Bela finishes for him. There are a few awwws coming from the audience.

Another reporter chimes in, "So it looks like Bela and Dean may be the story of the 2014 Olympics. How do you feel about being Sochi's power couple?"

"It feels wonderful to have found a kindred spirit here. We'll wait to call us a power couple until after we see how the rest of Dean's games go and how I finish at tomorrow's 15k biathlon."

Dean groans inwardly at terms like power couple and kindred spirit. This whole façade makes him feel dirty and used, a prop to stand next to Bela and garner her attention to increase her brand. He swallows down the disgust that tastes like bile and deceit as Bela continues to answer questions for the both of them. Finally, he leans over and whispers in her ear that he has had enough. She seems to understand that he is completely out of patience with her little game and tells the reporters that they really must be going before taking his hand and leading him towards the exit.

Crowley follows the two athletes and the moment the door closes behind them Dean jerks his hand out of Bela's grasp and turns on the two co-conspirators.

"What the hell was that?!"

"That," Crowley begins, "was me pulling a Billy Flynn on the press corps, a diversion that worked perfectly, I might add." He then turns to Bela and adds, "By the way, lovely work, my dear."

"Well, next time you can razzle-fucking-dazzle with someone else. This is such bullshit!"

"Look at that, Rocky has some smarts too. And I always thought Bullwinkle was the brains of the operation. That, squirrel, is the smartest thing you've said all day. Of course it's was all bullshit, but they bought it, hook, line and sinker so we'll count it as a win. Bela here gets free press which will certainly benefit her clothing line. You now don't have to explain your extracurricular activities with Russia's ice queen."

Dean clenches his fist, ready to punch the derogatory nickname from Crowley's smart mouth before Bela saves his agent.

She reaches up and cups Dean's cheek, giving him a smug but beautiful smile, "Happy to help, Dean. Well, actually, happy to use your fame to increase my own, but… you know… whatever."

"Now, you'll need to keep up this pretense. I'll arrange a few public appearances. All you have to do is play the part of the doting boyfriend. And, uh, Dean, no funny business with Castiel."

Dean opens his mouth to protest but decides it's better to just leave this one alone. Crowley has, after all, figured out a way to keep a story about him and Castiel out of the news, or at least buried under all of these stories about his fictional relationship with Bela.

He, Bela, and Crowley go their separate ways but on the way back to his room he can't escape the guilty weight that the deception has placed on his shoulders. This shouldn't be a big deal. After all, it isn't like it's the even the first time he has lied to the press. After his arrest, Crowley had helped to bury that story too, twist it into something more acceptable than it actually was. He hadn't felt remorse about going along with Crowley's version of that incident so what's bothering him so much about lying now?

The answer that keeps niggling in the back of his mind has deep blue eyes and dark messy hair and a voice that tucks its way under his skin, vibrates in his bones. But no, why should he feel like this game with Bela has anything to do with Cas? He just met the guy and it's not like there's anything going on between them. Except that maybe there is…

There's something about Castiel that he can't shake. Castiel is like the answer to his deepest questions and at the same time an enigma of endless mystery himself. He barely knows anything about Cas but something deep inside of him, some root desire, wants… needs to know more about him. It's the magnet that keeps drawing him to the skater no matter how much he tries to stay away. It's the lure to the warmth that surrounds him when they lock eyes. It feels like the panic of drowning and the comfort of home at the same time.

He can't shake the guilt because of Castiel. He knows now that he doesn't want Castiel to think that he is with Bela because that would mean that he wouldn't want him. It's selfish and petty to wish to be wanted by the handsome skater because he can't give him anything back. Right now all he has to offer is a seedy, hidden affair, darkened rooms and whispers and secret looks across crowded rooms. Rushed and wanton and walks of shame. Sneaking and hiding and lying. He isn't ready, may not ever be ready, to give Castiel anything more than that and he hates himself for how greedy that makes him feel.

He decides it's best to not put Castiel through that. He'll play Crowley's game and, who knows, maybe if he ignores his attraction to Cas he can just be friends with him because, even though he knows he has nothing to offer romantically, he just can't bring himself to cut off their friendship completely. It's crazy that someone he has only known a few days has burrowed so deep under his skin. No, he decides, there's no way he's giving up being friends with Cas. He'll just have to keep it platonic.

When he arrives back at his room Benny is there and Sam looks panicked. Shit! He forgot Benny was coming over to go to workout with them. Sam is feverishly tapping away on his laptop while Benny looks at Dean cautiously.

Sam looks up from his screen, "Dean, what's going on? You were gone for like an hour and now you're all over the news. I've gotten a dozen messages from people asking me to comment on my brother's love life. Why didn't you tell me about you and Bela?"

"'Cause there's nothing to tell, Sam. It's a publicity stunt. Crowley put the whole thing together. After that picture from the pub surfaced, it gave him ammunition to put together a story about me and Bela."

"But, wait, why?"

"I don't know, Sam. Y'know, same old crap, no such thing as bad press? Endorsements? Just, publicity, I guess." Dean drags a hand down his face, the stress of the morning starting to tire him out. He needs to get to the gym, go punch something.

Sam eyes him for a moment before he puts his laptop aside and stands up to face Dean. Dean can see the questions coming, practically hear the cogs of the brianiac's mind figuring everything out. "No. There's something else going on. What was Crowley taking about this morning? Saving you? Castiel? What's going on, Dean?"

Dean laughs, "You know how these tabloids will make up a story out of nothing. I guess they had some pictures of me and Cas and decided two plus two equals gay love."

"Pictures?"

"Yeah, I bought the guy a burger. It was the least I could do after I nearly killed him. And then, yesterday, I showed him how to play hockey a bit. I didn't know there were reporters around."

"That's ridiculous! You, gay?! Everyone knows how much you like girls. Who would even believe a story like that? Why would Crowley even bother to acknowledge it?"

Dean looks nervously at Benny, who is leaning back against the wall with his arms and legs crossed. The bastard just raises an eyebrow at Dean, knowingly. And Dean is officially done. He is too exhausted to keep lying and dancing around this.

He sighs and looks away from his brother, "Thing is…" The words get lost on his tongue.

Sam laughs, "What? You turning gay?"

The silence in the room is deafening as the smile on Sam's face fades when Dean doesn't respond.

"Thing is, Sam, I may have always swung that way… a little."

Sam looks back and forth between his brother and Benny, dumbstruck, until he finally puts the puzzle together in his head. He looks at Benny, "You knew about this?" Benny gives him a nonchalant shrug he addresses Dean next, "And Crowley too?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't trust me enough to tell me?"

Dean opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Sam picks up his gym back and heads towards the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob but doesn't turn around.

"I just, I just need some time, Dean. This is a lot to deal with." And with that he leaves. The sound of the door clicking closed is enough to send a shiver up Dean's spine.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yells and knocks over a bedside lamp.

Benny takes a tentative step closer and puts out a hand, "Hey, man, take it easy. You don' wanna hurt yourself before the next game."

"I don't fucking care!" Dean spits.

"Yes, you do. And when you calm down you'll be glad I talked some sense into you."

"Why the hell did I even tell him?"

"'Cause he's your brother and he deserves to know. 'Cause you've been carryin' around the weight of this too long. And maybe, 'cause you like this Castiel enough to finally let yourself be happy."

Dean looks at his friend, the only person he ever willingly told about his bisexuality. "I can't, Benny. Can you imagine how they'd come after me if I came out with this? It would be a constant battle. Every fucking interview would be about this shit. Me and Cas would be like a magnet for these monsters. And Sam? Sam would be collateral damage too."

"I know what you're willing to do for that kid, but Sam's a grown man, now. A very grown man. You don't need to keep sacrificing for him. And I know I like to mess with him, but truthfully, he's smart and he loves you and he'll come around. I know you're willing to do just about anything for your little brother. Question is, what are you willing to do for yourself? Or Castiel?"

"Benny, I do not need this shit. Now the press suspects I'm into men."

"Well then, the press would be right for a change, wouldn't they?"

"Screw you, Benny."

Benny just laughs, "No thanks, brother. You know a little man-love's your cup of tea, not mine. And I think Andrea might slay us both."

That at least makes Dean laugh. Benny has jokingly told Dean about the short leash that his wife, Andrea keeps him on. Thing is, though, Benny is so crazy in love with her, it doesn't even matter. Benny had told him once that everything he had done in the past seemed to vanish because he had Andrea and he had stayed clean not only for himself but for her and what they had together. Dean envies what Benny and Andrea have, wonders if he could ever have anything like that himself.

"I wasn't offering, you ass," Dean laughs. "Now, get out of here, I need to go find Sammy."

"Naw, man, you stay here, avoid the press for a while. I'll find 'im."

Dean reluctantly but gratefully agrees to let Benny talk to Sam, a lot of good that will do. Sam doesn't like Benny or understand why Dean does. To Sam, he is just the guy that got into trouble with Dean years ago. Sam doesn't know that he's also the one that saved Dean's ass.

Life views are hard to change. It's not easy when something that's simply been a constant suddenly changes. Some things just are: the earth is round, the pythagorean theorem always works, the solid strength of his brother's hugs always comfort. Other things need to be sorted into the doesn't-always-work-the-way-it-should category like when you hit the puck against the boards at a 30 degree angle, it should bounce off at the same angle. Sam knows it doesn't always work that way. The ice may be bumpy or the team mate who was supposed to be on the receiving end of that 30 degree angled pass wasn't where there or worse, the angle worked perfectly and an opposing team mate would intercept.

Sam likes his world that that way. Sorted neatly between the facts and the variables. Sam is smart, a great mind, actually. He absolutely shined in math class and history. Those were facts, things that are and things that definitely happened. It's why he is interested in the law. Right and wrong. Laws are like math – they are a set of rules that the world is supposed to work by. What he never liked much was English and Art. There is no formula for why some people loved Jackson Pollock and others were drawn to Michelangelo. There isn't a rule to explain why Macbeth was such a douchebag.

But even that, Sam is able to sort neatly between facts and variables.

So when a basic fact of his existence – Dean likes girls – is suddenly put into the variable category, Sam is… uncomfortable.

It isn't like he's homophobic, really. He never participated when those assholes at school would bully that kid, Anton. But he never made any effort to befriend the boy either. They didn't really have anything in common, though. Sam was into hockey, spent most of his time working out. Anton was a theater geek. It was easy to not cross the clique lines.

He had grown up surrounded by hockey players, big, strong, tough men who shook off a broken bone as easily as most people do a papercut. They played and lived hard and it was just assumed that they were all straight. They certainly bragged about their female conquests enough. Dean himself had always adamantly avoided what he called chick-flick moments. So Sam had never really been around anyone that he knew was gay.

And Sam was definitely on the side of equal rights when it came to sexual orientation. He firmly believed that they should be able to serve in the military and marry and be treated with dignity like everyone else. After all, this conformed with his love of the law, to treat everyone by the same concrete set of laws. But now they is not an abstract concept of some population of people. His brother is one of the they and his head is having trouble wrapping around that fact.

Does this change anything, really? Does he have to act differently around his brother now? Oh, God, what if he had said something offensive in the past? Had he ever laughed at the gay jokes thrown carelessly around the team? Had he ever thoughtlessly called something gay around his brother? Had he hurt the brother he loved inadvertently?

And like that, Sam realizes that this revelation doesn't change Dean any more than if Dean had suddenly announced that he liked cake as much as pie (fat chance!). Dean is still the big brother that always gave Sam the toy from the cereal box. He is the brother that stayed at home every Friday night when all of his friends were out doing typical teenager things because Sam needed him. He chased away the monsters when Sam was little and stood between Sam and the scariest one of all when they got older: dad. Dean had taught him how to respect girls and how to earn the respect of men. He even showed him how to do the patented Winchester wrist shot.

And none of that has anything to do with who Dean is attracted to.

Sam is interrupted from his thoughts by a hulking man standing in front of the bench where he has been sitting.

"Hey, Sam," Benny drawls, "mind if I sit?"

Sam shrugs and gestures to the open bench beside him.

"You cooled off yet?"

"Yeah, Benny. It's just… a lot to process, you know?"

"You know it don't change who he is, right?"

Sam nods and a long breath of silence sits between them. "So, were you and Dean…?" he finally asks.

Benny chuckles, "Naw, man, strictly pussy for me."

"Then why did he tell you and not me?"

"As to why he told me? Sorry, Sammy, that's his story to tell. As to why he didn't tell you, well, I think he probably thought he'd never have to. You know girls are usually his thing. Ain't too many men he'd consider outing himself over. Says to me this Castiel may be more than a passing thought."

"I don't get it. If he likes girls than wouldn't it be easier to just stick with them? Why even… y'know with guys?"

"I take it you've never been in love."

Sam just shrugs his shoulders again.

Benny huffs a laugh, "Not suprisin' seeing as you're barely out of diapers." The comment earns a glare from Sam but Benny continues, "When I met Andrea I was a mess. Drugs, parties, fights… anything to make me feel… or maybe not feel, I don't know. But I wasn't lookin' for anyone. Then we met and it was… well, I knew I was no good, shoulda walked away but I just couldn't. I don't think I could have chosen to not love her. It was just there. And when I let myself be happy everything changed. Now look at me, clean and sober, married with a little one. Love ain't always a choice, Sam."

"So, what? You're saying Dean's in love with this guy he just met?"

"I'm not saying that. Just saying that whatever he's got goin' on, it'd sure be easier if he knew he wasn't letting down his little brother."

"He's not… letting me down," Sam says defensively.

Benny just looks at him out of the corner of his eye, "You may want to tell him that."

"Yeah… yeah."

Benny pats him on the knee and gets up. "See ya' Sammy," he says as he starts to walk away.

"It's Sam," he corrects and he can just feel Benny's cocky smile even though he can only see his back.

When Sam returns to the room, Dean is sitting on his bed, back against the headboard with his eyes closed and his earbuds in. Sam can just make out the sounds of Zeppelin that is playing a bit too loud into his brother's ears. Sam shuts the door and the sound of it makes Dean flinch, eyes flying wide open as he meets his brother's.

Dean immediately pulls out his earbuds and stands up, "Listen Sammy, I-"

But he is cut off when Sam takes two strides forward and throws his arms around Dean's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have left like that."

Dean hugs him back, desperately.

Sam breaks the hug first, holding Dean's shoulders for a moment as he asks, "I just want to know, why didn't you tell me?"

Dean takes in a huge gulp of air, breathing it back out through his nose as his mouth opens a couple of times to say something that never escapes his lips. Finally, he begins, "Listen, Sam, it's not the kind of thing you tell your little brother. You weren't even old enough to drive when everything with Benny went down."

"Well, I'm old enough now. I just want to understand."

"You really want to hear this?"

Sam tries to give Dean his most supportive look and knows his brother well enough to know that a joke may help. "Yeah, just, uh, spare me any details that will give me nightmares."

It works and Dean gives him a half-hearted smile as he sits back down on the bed. Sam sits across from him on his own bed and faces his brother.

"What you gotta know is that I'm mostly into girls. There was this one time, though. I met this guy, Aaron, while we were playing a two game series in Boston. He was kinda this nerdy college student and we hit it off and one thing led to another and, well… I'll spare you the details.

"Turns out he had a fucking camera in the room and threatened to release the pictures if I didn't pay him off. I was 19 and terrified. It was my first year in the NHL and Dad had just died and I was taking care of you. I was just overwhelmed. So I told Benny this guy was trying to blackmail me and we decided to get the pictures. Damn, I was so young and so stupid!" Dean pinches the bridge of his nose as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

"So, we break into the guy's house and threaten to beat the shit out of him if he doesn't fork over the drive. What we didn't know is that he had this fucking hulk of a brother that bursts out of the back room and starts kicking ass. Man, I don't know what would have happened without Benny that to back me up. Shit went down and someone called the cops. That's how I ended up in handcuffs."

Sam had always wondered what the details behind that were. Dean had simply told him it was a drunken bar fight and never would give him the whole story.

"Anyway, it got pretty crazy with me an' Benny facing B&E and assault charges and I was still shitting a brick that the pictures would get out there. Crowley was the one who wheeled and dealed. He might of paid the guys off, I'm still not sure. He told me I shouldn't know. He did tell me that he found enough dirt on those two that I'd never hear from them again. He got them to drop all the charges and make the whole thing look like just a bunch of drunk idiots in a backyard fight."

Dean shrugs his shoulders, "Kinda swore off guys after that incident scared the hell out of me. I still worry one day I'm gonna turn on the news and see my naked ass as the scandal of the day."

Sam nods, doesn't know what to say. This story sure explains a lot about his brother and Benny. Wow, he even has some new respect for Dean's friend who has kept his secret for years. Dean is sitting stock still, his elbows resting on his knees and eyes focused on some random spot on the floor. Sam can feel the weight of the moment between them, it feels heavy, saturated, important.

Slowly, cautiously, Sam asks, "So, what about Castiel?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"Well, maybe you should find out."

Dean doesn't respond, just slowly nods his head to acknowledge his brother.

"And just so you know," Sam continues, "I'm cool with whatever you decide. "Cause, you're still my big brother."

Author's Note: Well, that chapter came out a bit angsty. In most fanfics Sam is written as completely accepting of Dean's revelation, often even shipping Dean and Cas long before those two figure it out themselves. I thought it would be interesting to try a new take on Sam. To explore his thought process if he had to come to terms with his brother's sexuality gradually. It worked well with this particular AU because in it he has been raised in the sometimes homophobic world of sports plus he is pretty young - just two years out of high school. Hope you like it.

This was a pretty character driven chapter so no hockey except the chapter title of Fake Out, which is when a player with the puck fools the opponent into thinking they are going to make one play and they end up doing something else.