onlytobenormal | de-aged [For samefivealbums]

Dean knew he was acting weird. He was trying not to, but his mind was all over the place and he was having a hard time sorting everything out. At least Sam was calm. Dean could freak out on his own and put himself back together before his brother got home. Probably.

"Love you, too." He pulled away slowly. "Go to work. See you when you get home."

Sam was trying to keep calm if only because he figured it might help... might do something. He was actually-- well, kind of worried, if he were being honest. Didn't want Dean to dwell on whatever had happened, didn't want him to feel... bad about what was between them.

He leaned in when Dean started to pull away, stealing another quick kiss to his cheek, not daring on going for a more proper one yet. "Yeah, okay."

He pulled away then, reluctantly headed out. There was a place not too far from his work to drop the film off and probably pick it up on his lunch or something. Kind of eager to see what was on it anyway, see if it jogged his memory a little.

Once Sam was gone, Dean stood there for a few moments trying to get his bearings. What was he going to do now? All he could think of was to climb back into the shower. He stripped down on the way and crawled in before the water was warm, shivering as he sat down on the tile. The water finally got warm, but the shivering continued.

He'd told himself this whole time that what they were doing was okay because they both wanted it. He'd asked Sam time and time again if he wanted out. Given him every opportunity to stop this. Even so, seeing his little baby brother wrestle with the idea that his big brother was fucking him just...

This was the first time Dean actually felt like he was doing something wrong. Really wrong. He'd thought it a couple of times -- I shouldn't be doing this -- but, never really believed it.

Unable to stop it, he felt his chest heave and his eyes burn. He leaned against the shower wall and sobbed miserably. Couldn't get the vision of Sam's eyes out of his head. The confusion and disgust.

The water had run cold again by the time he was finally completely wrung out. Didn't exactly feel any better, but at least the pressure that made him feel like he was going to explode was gone. At least he could handle himself when Sam got home now. Probably. Maybe.

He climbed out and dried off, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and, after some consideration, one of Sam's old hoodies. Then he climbed under the blanket he hand't bothered to use on the couch the night before. A few minutes later, there was a ball of fur laying on his feet. Eventually, he dozed a little.

Sam was distracted... knew he was and knew he'd be before he'd ever even left the house. He should be worried about the curse and he was... they had a knack for picking up random curses, getting into awkward spots. None of them had been all that bad though, not really. Dean as a girl had been an interesting experience... and hell, it had given them time together, to see they really could make living together work, make the couple thing work.

Sam being a girl hadn't been bad either. Much as he'd been uncomfortable, Dean had made it so much better by being there, by treating Sam the same as ever. Hell, the ferret thing hadn't been bad either or--well... whatever else they'd gotten up to.

This shouldn't have been bad either, but it felt like it was. He knew that look Dean was giving, knew how he was acting enough to know he was feeling bad, guilty. It was worse because he knew it was because of him. But it wasn't fair, he'd been a kid... fuck, at that age, he'd barely even been kissed by anyone, was struggling and awkward. How was he supposed to react to news like this? That didn't mean- he hadn't come to accept it eventually. Even if it did make him a freak by most people's standards.

Crappy thing was Sam couldn't even talk to anyone about it. Bobby didn't want in on that part of their lives, Dad hated them, and it wasn't like any of his friends here could hear that oh, he and Dean might have just hit a wall in their relationship because of a curse. He'd be called crazy.

He picked up the photos and stuck them in the Impala to give to Dean later, resisting the urge to look yet. He was distracted enough without adding to it and he had a job to do. When he got off, he sent Dean a text to say he was on the way and that he'd pick up dinner somewhere. Burgers from Dean's favorite place, maybe.

He was kind of dreading going back home. If Dean suddenly thought this was wrong? He really didn't know how to handle that.

Dean startled awake when his phone went off. He reached around blearily to pull it out of the pocket of his borrowed hoodie.

Yeah. Sounds good, Sam, thanks.

He wasn't the slightest bit hungry, but he figured it would just worry Sam if he didn't eat. Better to at least try to act normal. After a second, he sent another message.

Grab me a chocolate shake, will ya?

Sure. I'll be home soon.

Dean wanting to eat was a little bit reassuring, though Sam wasn't sure if it was for show or not. Either way, he grabbed a couple burgers, two shakes, and he was headed home. He grabbed the photos and slipped them in his pocket and their food, then headed up.

When he came in the door, he was greeted with the usual excited ball of fur and smiled warmly. Never got old seeing the pup's usual over-enthusiastic greeting.

Ozzy was the best idea Dean had ever had. That one impulse buy had given them so much back, it was amazing. That little mutt was full of energy and affection even when Dean and Sam were dragging.

He pushed himself up to sit, leaving room for Sam to sit on the couch with him if he wanted. "Looks like he missed you. Or he smells burgers..."

"Probably the burgers. I think his greatest love in life is food." But Ozzy had definitely been a good buy and something he wouldn't trade now. He'd gotten too used to the pup being around now.

He gave Dean a quick once-over. Last time he saw his brother moping around in one of his old hoodies, it had been after he'd swallowed too many pills and chased them all with booze. Not exactly one of their most pleasant memories...

He shook it off and settled on the couch, passing Dean his burger and fries before taking out his own.

That memory had been pretty constant in Dean's mind all day. Not a pleasant memory, but he couldn't deny he'd felt some appeal to the idea today. His promise to Sam kept him from trying, but he couldn't deny he'd kind of wanted to.

Dean took his food from Sam and promptly handed over a french fry to his new best friend at his feet. No point in pretending he wasn't going to share with Ozzy. He never could resist the eyes. "Thanks for picking up dinner. How was work?"

"No problem." Sam ate quietly, tossing Ozzy another fry after Dean. He didn't really know how to act, what to say to Dean or how to fix it... his reassurance that he wanted this earlier didn't seem to count as much as Dean said it did.

He just hadn't seen in this bad of shape for awhile. "It was alright... not too busy." Thankfully.

"So, what'd you do today?"

"Not a lot. Bummed around the house, mostly." Didn't really want to tell Sam he hadn't been off the couch all day. He especially didn't want to talk about the shower, crying like some dumb kid. That would definitely not reassure him.

Ozzy ended up eating more of Dean's fries than Dean did, but he managed most of the burger. Eventually, he put the rest aside. Part of him wanted nothing more than to climb into Sam's lap and soak up his warmth and closeness, but he was supposed to be taking care of Sam, not seeking comfort.

He pulled the blanket around himself and gave his brother a small smile. "What do you want to do tonight?"

"Hm..." somehow he kind of figured Dean probably didn't do much while he was gone, but he wouldn't have guess he'd spent any of it crying. Dean didn't cry much, not unless it was real bad.

He finished up what he wanted of his food and shifted closer to Dean, leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder. "I don't care, Dean..."

He tipped his head back to look at the other. "You feel any better?"

Dean leaned his cheek against Sam's head. His eyes closed. It felt really good to be close, even if he was afraid to push it any further.

When Sam looked up, Dean moved to meet his eyes. He shrugged and looked away a little. "Not much, really."

Sam was quiet, eyes darting back down. "So, what do you want to do, Dean?"

Didn't really look forward to the answer, but Sam was never good at sitting by idly watching his brother suffer without trying to do anything at all for him.

"I mean, what... do you- do you think this is wrong, man?" He'd asked time and again and Dean kept reassuring him that he wanted this, that they weren't hurting anybody. They weren't, but Dean was hurting now and it was because of this thing between them. He hated that.

"I don't know." He sighed and looked down at his hands in his lap. That was a question he'd been struggling with all day. What did he want to do? It wasn't like he knew how to fix this. Couldn't go back in time and make it not have happened. He wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to do it even if he could.

"I feel like I've done awful things to you. I've damaged your life beyond repair. I don't know what to do with that. With myself."

"Dean, that's a load of crap. I told you... I started thinking about you way before you ever even knew. You weren't responsible for that..." He shifted to sit up a little straighter, studying Dean, trying to weigh his reactions.

"So, what... Do you want to stop this?" Sam wanted to be stubborn, argue because this was... one of the great things about his life right now, something that he'd been able to count on. He didn't want to lose it... But he didn't want Dean to sit around thinking crap like that either.

"Want to? Of course I don't want to stop this. You're the only part of my life that's worth anything." He rubbed his face with both hands. There wasn't anything he could do to change the awful things he'd done. Stopping now... that wouldn't fix it.

But, did he deserve to be happy with it? With Sam? "I feel like a freakin' child molester, Sam. Somebody ought'a be slapping cuffs on me, not letting me live here and be happy."

"Last time I checked, I was twenty when we started this, dude. That's not a kid. You never did anything to me when we were growing up... dude, you chased girls like your life depended on it." He sat up straighter, turning on the couch to face his brother.

"And if you remember, I kissed you, Dean. God- I'm the one who wanted this. You just wanted me back in your life, right?" He didn't know where child-molester factored in to all that.

"I know, Sammy. I just..." He took a shaky breath and finally met Sam's eyes. He felt like he was going to lose it again. "It was just really hard to see you looking at me like that. No twelve year old should have to try and figure out why his big brother is fucking him."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be jerking off to your big brother growing up either or hunting monsters or moving from place to place every couple weeks either, but I think we covered that we're not exactly normal, Dean." He gave a helpless shrug, maybe regretting the bluntness, but he felt cornered here, didn't know how to make things okay.

"Look, I know it's messed up, Dean, but it's not your fault... none of it is."

Dean couldn't argue with any of that. Nothing about them had ever been normal. He shifted a little closer and slowly put his head down on Sam's shoulder. "Just tell me... I mean think hard... was there ever anything... a look, a word, anything that I might have done to give you this idea? Started you thinking about me like that?"

Sam's hand came up automatically to rest against the back of Dean's head, cradling him close. He was quiet for awhile, just trying to think back on everything like Dean was asking him. It was hard to pinpoint when he'd spent a better part of his time trying his hardest to not think about it... wasn't like he'd asked to be more of a freak than ever. "Dean, I don't- remember anything in particular. You've just... you were the only constant thing in my life, you know."

He let out a sigh. The hell was he supposed to say? "You were there, Dean, more than anybody else. You taught me everything from-- tying my shoes to how to hold a gun, man. You went and did all the dumb school stuff I asked you to when you shouldn't have had to... Dad should've been there."

"You're just... I've looked up to you for as long as I can remember, Dean. Used to try to be just like you, watched you all the time, memorized every gesture, every expression." If he felt like a girl for some of the crap he said before, this was fifty times worse. Judging by the heat in his face,he was probably red as hell.

Part of him felt wrong all over again, like some sick little freak for getting hard over his big brother and not just his big brother-- the guy who'd practically raised him to boot. Not to mention, he'd made a move when Dean had just been desperate to get him back in his life... he hadn't meant to be manipulative. He really hadn't, but it had ended up that way.

"I don't know why, Dean... I'm just a freak, I guess, and I'm sorry about that. I really am. Kinda my fault you've been through all the shit you have. If I hadn't-- you know, you wouldn't have gotten in that fight with Dad or had to run away from Stanford with me. God, that demon wouldn't have even touched you either... at least not in the same way. Any of the shit you've been through, maybe it could've been different."

God, he felt miserable. Like he'd just fucked Dean over big time and it was because of that that he made himself pull away, look away from Dean. he scrubbed a hand over his face to ward off any tears, ducked his head. Dean was his hero and maybe he'd taken that a little too far... messed them both up. "Uh, anyway, I can't think of anything you did, Dean. Nothing you ever said or did in particular."

"Shut up, Sam. You're not a freak," Dean told him, not unkindly. He'd been halfway ready to finally give in to the urge to shift his position and settle himself in Sam's lap -- Sam kept telling him time and time again that he was just as capable of taking care of Dean as Dean was of taking care of him -- but, now didn't seem to be the time to put that to the test. Not now that he'd managed to infect his brother with his own misery. Now, he needed to fix it.

Dean moved to wrap his arms around Sam and pull him close. He tucked his brother's head in against his shoulder and rubbed slow circles on Sam's back. "It'll be okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's not your fault."

"It kinda is," he muttered stubbornly, not exactly wanting to relax into that hug. That wasn't how this was supposed to go... he shouldn't be the one getting comfort and so he slowly started to draw away. If he'd acted like a normal damn brother when Dean came to visit, it would've saved them a lot of grief and if he hadn't been so damn selfish to insist on... continuing this when he knew what Dean wanted-- no telling how things might have turned out.

Maybe not with running away from Stanford or Dean swallowing as many pills as he could get or demons... any of this crap.

"Dean, stop, man." He drew away after a moment, eyes meeting Dean's. "Look, you're stuck with me either way. We're not hunting or traveling, we've both got jobs here, we live together... I don't want you to leave and I don't want to go anywhere either."

He gave a shrug, looked up at Dean a little hesitantly. "So can you just do me a favor and think about this? You don't have to fuck me to keep me in your life, Dean, especially if it makes you feel that bad. So can you just think about it and make sure this is what you want? Really what you want, not just because of me. Please?"

"Sam..." Fuck. Dean almost grabbed him and pulled him back when Sam pulled away. Dean wanted desperately to hang onto him and it took a few seconds to tramp down his temper at the sudden loss. If he couldn't let himself seek his own comfort and if he couldn't comfort Sam, his next easiest reaction was anger, but he didn't want that. Didn't want to make things worse than he already had.

He took a steadying breath and tried to collect his thoughts to answer. "I'm fucking you because I want to, Sam. You don't chase me down and make me do it. I'm climbing you more often than you climb me."

"I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry the kid thing hit me like it did and I'm sorry I'm still struggling with it. I don't have a road map for this stuff. I'll figure it out, alright?"

de-aged [For samefivealbums]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject