Yet another bar. Sam groaned inwardly. He had almost opted to stay in the room again and do research, anything but see this. But the idea of Dean out flirting, trying to get laid, or even putting on the pretense, ate at him. More than he wanted to admit. Surely by now he should be used to it. Dean garnered attention everywhere they went, and he seemed to feed off of it, savor it. Sam had dealt with that all his life, why was it bothering him so much more lately?
The place was small, dark and generally smelled like the bottom of an ashtray, assuming the ashtray had been soaked in stale beer, and other unsavory things he tried not to think about, for years. How was this fun? To anyone? He wished yet again that he hadn't come, but mostly he wishes neither of them were here.
He watched Dean surreptitiously as he took another swig of his beer. Some blonde girl was already sidling up to him, practically pressing herself against him as he hustled pool. Dean could charm just about anyone, and hustling pool made them most of the cash they ever had on hand, but it also went hand in hand with hanging out in places like this and watching Dean pick up an endless string of women who were never good enough for him, not that Dean would agree. Dean never had had any inclination how incredible he was, other than his looks, he never had held his own worth anywhere close to the esteem Sam felt for him.
The bartender stepped behind Sam and set another beer next to his almost finished one and he glanced up, a questioning look on his face. She smiled and tilted her head toward the bar, "Compliments of the brunette at the end."
His eyes flashed immediately to a pretty, dark haired girl who was waggling her fingers at him and smiling almost shyly.
'What the hell?' Sam decided, mentally shrugging, and picked up the beer, heading toward her. Choosing between watching Dean work his magic on yet another girl and talking to someone who was interested in Sam? Sam decided it wasn't even close.
Dean noticed immediately when Sam stood up. He tracked Sam's movement out of the corner of his eye as he left the table he had been sitting at to head toward the bar. 'What the hell?!' His brother was moving to sit with some brunette skank. Seriously, he could almost see her panties, that skirt was so short. He wasn't happy about this turn of events. Usually Sam kept to himself, that is when he deigned to come along at all when Dean worked the bar scene, and Dean liked it that way.
The blonde who was pressed against Dean noticed his already inattentive gaze had strayed even further, and was not pleased. She pressed her not unimpressive chest further into his arm, letting him know.
He resisted the urge to push her away, instead putting on his sexiest Dean smile and wrapping his arm around her waist, dragging his eyes away from Sam, who was now chatting up the skank, leaning close to hear her above the loud country music coming from the jukebox, close enough that it looked like her lips were touching that curl resting just at Sam's ear.
When Sam pushed the bar door open and stepped into the fresh cool night air about half an hour later, he wondered if it was safe to go back to the motel room. The last thing he wanted to do was walk in to the sights and sounds of Dean banging that nasty girl he was sure he had left with, but fuck it, he was going back to the room and to hell with them.
The Impala was nowhere in sight as he turned to walk toward their motel, hands in pockets and head down. Luckily it was only a couple of blocks away. Nice. He loved that Dean just left him stranded. Thinking with his dick, as usual.
'Damnit,' Dean thought, pulling into the motel parking lot less than an hour after leaving with the blonde. It wasn't often he had a hard time getting it up. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Tonight he finally decided he would screw some random chick and try to relieve some tension for the first time in months, and he couldn't get Sam out of his head. He couldn't concentrate on the task at hand, instead finding himself wondering what or who Sam was doing.
It was getting worse. He had dealt with these feelings for enough years that he thought it was under control, pushed down far enough inside himself that he didn't have to deal with it constantly. Sure, it made it a lot easier that the kid usually didn't get laid himself. He didn't like watching Sam making his puppy dog eyes at some bitch, looking up through that mop of hair Dean had an intense fascination with, or flashing those sweet dimples.
Looking at the door to their motel room, Dean wondered if Sam had brought her back here. He knew he wasn't prepared to walk in and see that. So he decided to sleep in the car. Besides, it would keep up the image that Sam had of him as the ultimate ladies man, out all night getting some.
Sam sighed and flopped over, trying to get comfortable. Dean hadn't come back to the room, and he hated that. He hated sleeping without the comfort of knowing his big brother was just a couple of feet away, within reach.
Usually when Dean hooked up, he was back in the room to sleep. Sam didn't like when he walked in, that shit eating grin on his face, letting Sam know he had slept with yet another random girl, but it was better than him not coming back at all. He reached over and grabbed the remote, resigning himself to a sleepless night, or at least until his brother sauntered in.
"Dude, you are crankier than usual," Sam eyed his brother across the table. Dean also looked like he gotten even less sleep than he had. Surely that meant enough sex that he should be in a lot better mood, right? "You were there all night, seriously, weren't you able to get it up or something?"
Dean jerked slightly, an almost shiver going through him. Sam had nailed it exactly. But at least he didn't know he was right or God forbid, the reason. "Yeah, right, Sammy," He cocked a half grin that he hoped was as nonchalant as necessary at his little brother, "as if that has ever happened to me. I just didn't get much sleep. She was demanding, man."
Sam just turned his attention back to his food. He was sick of looking at the smirk on Dean's face, knowing that he was remembering something Sam would rather not know about, let alone think about consciously.
"What about you, dude. You aren't exactly all sunshine and rainbows this morning. I'm guessing your attitude is for the opposite reason. Didn't get laid again last night?" Dean watched Sam's face surreptitiously, hoping that he could get an accurate read on what had happened last night.
Refusing to listen to more teasing, Sam decided to lie. Or at least let Dean think things had gone way better than they had. "Right. I had a great night, and I'm not telling you anymore than that. I'm not a freak like you, and I don't feel the need to share that kind of shit."
Dean felt his gut clench. "Sure, Sammy, I'm sure she was totally impressed with your skills. What with you being such an expert and all." He was suddenly glad they were headed out of town for a new hunt today. He didn't want to think about Sam not only sleeping with some random bitch, but if he started getting attached to her and wanting more…well, that was just something he wasn't ready to deal with, at all.
"So, Sam. Where we off to next?"
Sam flipped open his laptop to read Dean the details he had found this morning of what looked to be a woman in white case in a small town a few hours away.
Spending all day in the car with Dean could be so many things. Depending on the mood he could be fun, or he could be wired, or he could be sullen and withdrawn. Today was sullen and withdrawn and those were the days Sam hated the most. Usually those days he just tried to curl up and sleep against the window. Besides, today Sam felt pretty shitty himself. He hoped this new thing with Dean staying out all night with random women wasn't going to become a habit.
Sam didn't sleep well without Dean. Course, lots of times he couldn't sleep at all because of Dean, times when all he could think about was how Dean had looked coming out of the shower, or when he woke to hear Dean jacking off and that always made him uncomfortably hard, but he knew he had to pretend to sleep.
Dean's eyes flickered to Sam. His baby brother was sleeping, so he allowed himself to watch. If Sam awake was sweet and innocent then Sam sleeping was almost angelic. It reminded Dean of when they were little and Sam didn't have any concept of the monsters that were waiting for him.
He loved watching Sam sleep, because it made him feel content in a way that few things ever did. It also created that curling heat in the pit of his stomach, made him want to reach out and run his fingers through Sam's messy hair, or along the soft lines of his lips. Sometimes, when he knew Sam was deep enough in slumber, he allowed himself just a moment of that, just a brush of fingertips. But rarely, because if Sam caught him, well, who knew what he would think.
Before he realized what its intentions were, his hand had reached out and sifted softly through the locks at the back of Sam's neck. He drew back after that, looking at his hand like it belonged to someone else. Thank God Sam didn't react, because this was NOT one of those times when he was sure it was safe. What was he thinking? Hell, he knew. Really. It was all that damn thinking, wanting he had been doing, and knowing that whateverhernamewas from the other night had touched Sam like that. He hated her for that, for being able to freely touch Sam after knowing him for all of an hour, when Dean had yearned for it for so many years and was allowed only stolen, fleeting moments.
Sam held his breath, waiting for that touch again. What was that for? And that sigh. Dean didn't sigh. But it had felt so good, so right and he wanted to latch on, to hold it there. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to lean into the caress, to moan and ask for more. Instead he waited and willed Dean to do it again, and when it seemed like it had been hours, he gave up hoping and just lay there wondering what it meant, until he actually did fall asleep.