Note: This is my first...and hopefully only, wincest fic that will ever come from my brain. It hit me from left field and I had to write it. Let me know what you think!
Dean paced back and forth in front of the campus building. He was fed up with waiting for Sam. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled before turning and walking up the few steps. No more waiting. The janitor needed to be taken care of after all the tricks…
He pulled out his flashlight once he pulled the door open and crept in. Now if I were the janitor, where would I be… Dean moved down the steps, approaching the steps, cautiously approaching the metal gate that blocked off the work room they visited earlier. He pointed the flashlight around. Nothing. Everything was quiet, except for that faint sound of music playing.
With a curious look, Dean moved quickly up the steps. The music grew louder as he neared the auditorium. Maybe this was where the janitor was. He opened the door cautiously, poking his head in. Bright colorful lights were beating down and the sound of a song was blaring through the speakers. Dean frowned, still looking down at the carpeted floor. The song was familiar. Tuesday's Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd. A hint of a smile crawled onto his face as he looked around to see who was in the spacious room.
His eyes moved over the seats and he quietly let the door shut behind him. When he looked at the stage, it looked all set up for a play that would have a motel room as a set. A motel room like the ones him and his brother would stay at in the various towns during hunts. Dean's jaw dropped in shock when he saw Sam sitting cross legged on the bed up on the stage. What the hell happened to the plan? "Sam?" Dean called curiously.
Sam perked up, lifting his head from his chin with a surprised look. "Dean," he said with a forming smile.
"What the hell are you doing here? We're supposed to be taking care of this case." He wasn't angry, just ticked off that Sam wasn't going with the plan they set up. It was almost unlike him. Dean moved closer to the stage, looking up at Sam once he got close enough.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I came in to wait for you and I found all this. It's kinda weird… Think it has to do with everything?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Obviously. I mean, this Trickster makes whatever he wants from thin air. Bobby said it's all real." He narrowed his eyes. "Remember?"
"Yeah. I do," Sam chuckled lightly. "Sorry."
Shaking his head, Dean climbed up onto the stage to check things out. "So he's gotta be around here somewhere…" He walked over to the far right of the stage, looking behind the fake wall. There was nothing there and he huffed. This Trickster's one sneaky bastard. Grumbling slightly, Dean turned around to say something to Sam but completely forgot what he was going to say when he saw the look on Sam's face.
Sam was watching him with those big, brown eyes. His stomach dropped as Sam said, "I need to talk to you about something."
Dean walked over, sitting beside him with a puzzled look. He half hoped this wasn't 'share-and-care time'. There was nothing to share for Dean. Sure he kept a few secrets from his brother; but other than that, nothing he would need to tell him. "Shoot."
The song was moving into the second verse when Sam unexpectedly took hold of Dean's face, only to kiss his older brother gently. Dean yanked back, automatically trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Sam was giving him the kicked puppy look again too. "What the hell, Sammy?"
He continued to frown at him. "Dean," Sam began to say, "I've been meaning to tell you that for…so long." The tone of his voice sounded so needy. It was giving Dean the chills.
"That wasn't exactly telling me anything. That was more of an action."
Hesitating, Sam furrowed his brow. "But…you got the point, didn't you?"
Dean didn't want to answer his brother's question. He did get the point, only because it was one of the secrets he kept to himself. For a while, he had an inkling that Sam liked him in a very…non-brotherly way, but didn't say anything. Dean just shut up trap and went on with his life. Ever since their dad's death, Sam seemed to be showing this more though. And frankly, it made Dean's skin crawl in a way it shouldn't. With a sigh, he finally said, "Yes. I get your point Sam…" Dean looked at the floor, trying to turn his mind to other thoughts.
"I just…" Sam stopped and he could be heard sighing.
When he put a hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean sort of lost it. He turned around and gave a weak half smile. "I know, Sammy. I know." Sam sniffled and Dean did something he didn't entirely mean to. He grabbed Sam and kissed him back. Hard. Sam didn't back away, or even move until Dean pulled back. "Stop being such a bitch," Dean smiled.
Sam looked down at the bed for a moment before smiling up at his older brother. "Then you stop being a jerk!" he shouted while tackling Dean playfully.
The two rolled around, fighting for power and exchanging a kiss or two when someone's clapping made them froze. "Really boys, I'm touched. But before this goes beyond PG-13, I had to say something." It was the janitor, sitting in one of the auditorium seats directly in front of the stage.
"You," Dean grumbled as Sam moved off him. He sat up and glared at the man. "This is all…your doing, isn't it?"
The Trickster disguised as a janitor made a face as he glanced up. "Mmm… Yes. It is. But it seems real, doesn't it?" He raised an eyebrow, talking directly to Dean.
Thinking quick, Dean lowered his breath. "C'mon Sam, we can take him." Sam didn't answer. He only looked at him with interest. "Well? Yes or no?" Dean hissed.
"That's not really your brother," The Trickster groaned while rolling his eyes. "I just knew you had a weakness for him so I cooked all this up."
He narrowed his eyes, glancing at who he thought was his brother. "He's not real?"
"This one isn't. I'm not sure where the real one is currently, but eh. You can have your just desserts right now with this one that's plenty real. All you have to do, is leave me alone. I'll move onto the next state."
It was pathetic, but Dean thought for a moment. If he ever told the real Sam how he felt…things could go sour. And like the Trickster said, this one was practically a clone of him. Maybe… "How do I know you won't just up and leave this place and then everything goes poof."
The Trickster rolled his eyes. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought. Nothing goes poof until I tell it to!" He shook his head, fuming, and pulled out a Snickers bar.
Dean frowned. He couldn't believe he was about to say this. "Fine. Get movin'." Smiling from ear to ear as he bit into the candy bar, the Trickster got up and walked towards the door. "But if we catch you again…" Dean warned.
"Yeah. I know." He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. All the lights in the auditorium dimmed and "Sam" wasn't acting frozen anymore.
"Dean, was that…? What happened?"
Obviously, the "Sam" was playing along. "I took care of it." He patted Sam on the arm and gave a mischievous grin. "Now where were we?"
With a laugh, Dean yanked his coat off before giving "Sam" another kiss.