onlytobenormal | de-aged [For samefivealbums]

"Fine, heathen. Ice cream instead." Dean smirked at him. Kid just didn't know what was good.

He sat back in his seat and stretched, giving a yawn. Yeah, it had been a pretty good day. Sam, his Sam, was going to be sorry he missed it.

Sam shook his head, smiling a little bit to himself. "I can get get the dishes, if you want me to."

Dean had been cooking for him and taking him pretty much... everywhere. Figured it was the least he could do.

"Yeah? Thanks, dude." He smiled a little. They used to fight over who had to do the dishes. In truth, Dean kind of hated washing dishes. A lot. It was one of the primary motivations for him taking over the cooking. It meant he could foist the dishes off on his brother more often. Everybody wins!

"No problem." He got to his feet to gather their dishes and dumped what was left on the plates in the trash before going to stack them in the sink to take care of. Sam didn't mind the washing bit nearly as much as cooking, so it kind of worked out for them! Especially when this Dean was an actual good cook.

"I'll be in the living room if you need anything, Sammy." He picked up his beer and wandered into the living room. Ozzy was snoozing on the couch and Dean had to nudge him over to sit down. He turned on the TV and flipped around, looking for something good to watch.

Sam cleaned and straightened the kitchen back up, picking up where everything's place was pretty fast. It was weird... getting to do this. On the road, cleaning up dishes meant playing Rock, Paper, Scissors on who had to throw away paper plates and trash.

Part of him really, really didn't want to go back, even if he knew he had to.

Besides, he knew Dean was Dean no matter what, but he was kind of missing his stupid jerk of a brother. But he was going to enjoy this however long it lasted.

As soon as he finished up, he came to the living room and flopped down beside Dean on the couch, leaning into him a little. "What are you watching?"

Dean shifted to wrap his arm around Sam and smiled over at his little brother. It wasn't his Sam, but he still liked having him there.

"Movie called Gladiator. Huh... don't think it's been made yet, when you're from." Oh well. Not like Sam was going to take up screenwriting as a hobby, right?

Sam tilted his head in against the other's shoulder, smiling to himself. "Huh... guess I'm getting a real preview, huh?"

"Yep. Take notes, baby brother. This one's gonna rake in the Oscars." Dean wasn't too fond of the ending, but the rest of the movie was pretty awesome. Who didn't love sword fights?

He snorted a little bit. "It's not going to help me, dude." He shifted a little bit closer, keeping his head rested on his brother's shoulder.

"When do you have to be at work tomorrow?"

Dean tipped his head to rest his cheek against Sam's head as he watched the movie. "Gotta be there around eight. Open up and get things set up. I'll be off around lunch time."

He gave his brother a squeeze. "Will try not to wake you up when I get up to get ready for work."

"Don't worry about it." He shifted a little bit, tipping his head back to look at Dean. Well, might as well ask it and get it out of the way...

"Are you sure- you don't want to just sleep on the bed tonight? There's room for both of us." And he had a feeling they shared it normally anyway.

It was a really bad, wrong feeling though.

Dean looked over at him curiously. The kid didn't look exactly sure about that offer, which worried him. Sam at this age hadn't ever been nervous about sharing a bed with him. Annoyed maybe, sure, but nervous? Dean felt a flash of dread. Had he done something today to make Sam feel uncomfortable? He wracked his brain, trying to remember.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Sammy. I know you hate it when I kick you and steal the covers."

Sam didn't usually feel nervous when sharing a bed with Dean, no. He didn't really mind it except for when the jerk was hogging more than his share and cracking short jokes if Sam complained about it. Even now, he didn't think he'd mind it. This Dean was still Dean and still safe.

He was nervous about other things though. He shifted, tipping his head back against Dean's chest so he couldn't really see Dean's face when he spoke up again. "We share it now anyway, right? I mean, I don't think I'd make you sleep on the couch, even if we did switch off. At least not if this place is permanent."

And especially if they hadn't really discussed a bigger place. That'd mean Sam would be fine with this arrangement. They could have fit another bed somewhere, surely, but they hadn't.

Sam didn't even want to think about all the implications. He wasn't that young, that dumb.

Well, shit. There was a conversation he was hoping to avoid, oh, forever. Still, he couldn't pull away when Sam was leaning on him like that. Not this Sam, especially, when he could remember so few times the kid leaned on him this way.

Dean's arm tightened a second around Sam's shoulders and he sighed deeply. Damn, the kid was too smart for his own good. "Yeah, Sam. We do."

Now what could he say? I'm sorry? He wasn't, though. Not really. He loved Sam, his Sam. Hell, he loved them both, just different ways. And he couldn't kid himself now that this Sam didn't have a pretty fair idea of how he loved the other Sam.

Sam wasn't really sure where to go with it either. Part of him wanted to pull away and be disgusted with it all, ask him how or why. Dean wasn't supposed to do that with him. He was supposed to chase girls and not share beds with his brother.

At least not the way that two grown men would.

Then there was that part of him that older Sam had mentioned, the one who might have had a stray thought here or there that he knew was wrong and that part was pretty damn terrified that he'd done something to get this, that this was on him somehow.

Yeah, he was a total freak, even when he was trying to be normal. "Thought so. You suck at lying sometimes, Dean."

"Sammy..." Dean gently removed his arm from around Sam's shoulders. He didn't want to make the kid uncomfortable. Kinda sad, though. It was kind of nice to get to hug the kid like that. They missed out on it, growing up.

"Listen, this thing with you and me... it didn't start until after you left for Stanford, okay? I would never do anything to you to hurt you. Not ever. You've always been the most important person in the world to me." He laced his fingers together and twisted them in his lap nervously. God, if he thought trying to explain himself to his father had been hard, that was nothing compared to this.

Dean closed his eyes for a minute to try and center himself. He felt a little sick and a whole lot humiliated. "This was a sudden thing. Neither of us really thought about it when it happened, it just did. You've got time now, though. You can think about it and decide if you want to avoid it altogether. You can. Just..."

He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. "Just, when you get to Stanford, tell me not to come. I'll respect that. I would have then and I would now."

Sam sat up straighter when Dean removed his arm and shifted away, just thinking it over. It was hard. His mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to process this. Dean wasn't even trying to lie anymore, was he? "I didn't think you were hurting me, Dean."

That got an eye roll even if he was kind of freaked out here. And now Dean was still talking, telling him to think about this. It was almost too much.

He frowned, finally looking back at Dean. Couldn't help but feel a little distraught at that. "I don't want you out of my life, Dean! I don't know what happened, but you're my brother."

And not having Dean there with him just didn't sound right at all. As for this though-- "Are we... really happy like this? It's weird, Dean."

"I guess don't let me stay the night, then." He managed a wry smile and shrugged. He was out of practice lying to Sam. Hadn't done much of it in a pretty good while.

"As far as I know, yeah. You tell me you're happy when I ask. You seem happy." He sighed and shook his head. "I've gotta be honest, though. It's been hard. There's been bad patches. Not between you and me, but... outside stuff because of this."

He bit his lip and finally looked over at Sam. "There's been times I've thought you might have had it easier if I hadn't come back into your life at all, though. You could still be at Stanford now, getting your degree, meeting a pretty girl, getting married..."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to not be in my life at all." Sam was sure of that, no matter what changed in the next few years. For all their bickering and all Sam's frustrations, it was hard to picture life entirely without Dean

"I'm just not happy hunting, Dean... I hate it. I hate moving around and I hate not having friends. I hate fighting with Dad over it too." It was just... miserable. Dean was the only one who'd even take a little interest in his activities that didn't involve hunting, the only one who was there... even when he ran off on his stupid dates and whatever else he got up to..

"Do people know what we do?"

"I know you are, Sammy. I know you hate it and I'm sorry. If I knew then what I know now, I'd have stopped a lot sooner. Stopped with you." Dad would have hated it and they'd both have been disowned a lot sooner, but... damnit, Sam should have had a childhood. If he could go back, hell, he'd grab Sam one night and just take off.

Easy to think now when it wasn't possible, he supposed. God, he was always too late.

"They found out, at Stanford. That's why we left. Dad found out, too. That's why he doesn't talk to me. He thinks I'm doing something awful to you." Dean rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Nobody knows we're brothers here. I use a different last name. They just think we're dating. That's why I didn't take you into the bookstore. I was afraid they'd ask where my boyfriend was and I didn't want to have to explain... all this... to you."

He looked back at Dean, studying him close like he didn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. Part of him didn't... Dean, his Dean, wouldn't be willing to give up hunting, would have insisted they needed to keep following Dad's orders and maybe that Sam needed to suck it up and quit fighting over everything.

Sam was kind of at a loss for what to say or do here. It was all so weird and he kind of wished again his brother was here. He didn't think Dean could offer him advice here. He'd probably be just as freaked... He'd probably refuse to come to Stanford at all if he knew. Probably would want to ditch him even more now, forget about when Stanford comes around. "I'm sorry, Dean... I'm sorry Dad's mad at you because of me."

"Sammy, no..." In spite of himself, Dean reached out and rested his hands on Sam's shoulders. Kind of wanted to hug him again, but he didn't want to push his luck. This time, he was going to make the lie stick. He'd done his level best to make Dad think this had been all on him and he wanted Sam, this Sam, to believe the exact same thing. No way was he going to let his little brother go around thinking he was some kind of freak for this.

"Listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? I came to you. It was my idea to go get drunk. I'm the one that..." Yeah, no specifics. "I'm the one that made the first move. I'm your brother. I'm supposed to take care of you. I should have stopped it right then, but I didn't. I was selfish."

"Please, okay? This is not your fault."

"I'm not a kid, Dean," he spat out, that defiant jut to his jaw as he looked up at Dean. He could insist whatever he wanted, but the fact was that at some point, Sam had to stop being just the little brother who followed Dean around and start saying no. Like if his brother made a move he didn't want.

"If I was grossed out, we wouldn't be half-way across the country acting like we're- we're boyfriends or whatever." He winced at Dean's insistence that he should have stopped it, looking down a moment.

"If you're that sure we shouldn't do this, then why are we? You could put a stop to it still, right? But you haven't."

"Because I'm still selfish," Dean answered, his throat feeling tight and raw. "Because I've never been happy like this my whole life and I'm afraid to give it up. Because I don't know how to be me anymore without you in my life."

But he should. If he was honest with himself, he knew he should. Staring across the couch at his little, baby brother was the first time he'd ever felt it this strongly. Even after the blow up at Stanford, even after Dad, even after the demon... none of that had been as scary as sitting there and trying to explain to his tiny brother why he was fucking him.

God, he was going to be sick.

de-aged [For samefivealbums]

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