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flawedamythystTitle: The Truth In The Lie: Day Eleven (Part One)
Rating: NC-17 this chapter, NC-17 overall.
Word count: 11,222/63,000 (this chapter/total)
A/N: Main header and notes: here.
This section is in two parts, because it's too long for one post.
Prologue, Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four, Day Five, Day Six, Day Seven, Day Eight, Day Nine, Day Ten, Day Eleven (Part One, Part Two), Epilogue.
****
Sam woke up to find Dean watching him, frowning slightly.
“Jesus,” he said and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Have you even slept?”
Dean ignored the question. “Up and at 'em, Sammy,” he said, turning away. “We've only got two days left to catch these monsters. I'm going for breakfast - come down when you're ready.” He left the room before Sam could say anything.
So they were back to the game of pretending nothing had happened. Sam contemplated that for a second, then rejected it. He'd kissed Dean, and Dean had kissed him, and it was insane and big and a little frightening, and he was damned if he was just going to push it all back down and ignore it. The resolve to do something about it, to stop just trying to pretend it wasn't happening made him feel lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
****
Dean was eating something incredibly greasy when Sam came down to breakfast and nodding distractedly while Paul told him some story that involved a lot of hand gestures. Sam dropped into a seat next to him, kissed his cheek and took advantage of his moment of surprise to steal a piece of bacon.
Dean paused mid-bite and glared at him. “Don't mess with my bacon,” he grumbled.
Sam grinned at him. “What's yours is mine, right?” he asked.
“Dude, we're not married,” snapped Dean, and Sam could see he was genuinely pissed. He widened his grin until Dean's eyes narrowed.
“What's a little bacon between lovers?” he asked, and Dean looked like he was going to have some kind of fit.
“Sam,” he growled.
Sam patted his shoulder, then let his hand drift across to Dean's neck, his fingers trailing across his skin and stroking the short strands of hair there. “Relax,” he said. “I'll share mine when it comes.”
Dean clenched his jaw so tight that Sam thought he was going to crack teeth, and turned back to his breakfast.
****
Dean left the dining room before Sam had finished and was already on the bus, chatting to Brian, when Sam brought his bag out. Sam sat down next to him, as close as he could. Dean tensed, but didn't shift away.
“Brian was just saying how unusual the attack on Thomas was,” Dean said. “Apparently he's never heard of anything like it.”
Brian nodded. “And I've been doing this tour for years now.”
Sam put his hand on Dean's thigh, higher up than either of them had dared before now. Dean's leg twitched. “I guess something must have provoked them then,” he said.
“Maybe,” said Brian doubtfully, then his eyes settled on something outside the bus. “There's Victor and Marcus,” he said, standing up. “I better go help them with their bags.”
As soon as he'd gotten off the bus, Dean pulled away from Sam. “You can stop that shit now,” he said.
“Stop what?” asked Sam innocently. Dean glared at him. “Okay, fine,” said Sam, relenting slightly. “Just give me a good reason.”
Dean stared at him as if he was insane. “We're brothers,” he hissed.
Sam felt frustration rise up in him, and he knew it showed on his face. “If that really bothered you, nothing would have happened last night.”
Dean's mouth twisted at the reminder, and he glanced away for a moment. When he turned back, he leaned in close to Sam, voice dropping to a harsh whisper so that Brian, who was throwing bags in the back of the bus, wouldn't hear. “It's incest, Sam. I'm your brother - you really think you could fuck your brother?”
Sam deliberately put his hand back on Dean's inner thigh and slid it up to his crotch. At his touch, he could feel Dean's cock grow half-hard, and he ran his finger up the length of it, more than a little surprised by his own audacity. Dean sucked in a sudden breath and Sam felt his own cock twitch in response.
“Yeah,” he said with a dry mouth, “I could fuck my brother. Could you?”
Dean stared at him desperately for a moment, then smacked Sam's hand away. “No,” he rasped, but Sam didn't think he'd even managed to convince himself.
“Good morning, boys,” said Victor, climbing on to the bus. “Isn't it a lovely day?”
Dean pulled completely away from Sam, and turned to the window again. “Just peachy,” he said sarcastically.
Sam sighed. It figured it wouldn't be that easy.
****
It was only a short drive to the Bay of Fundy, where they all climbed down to a beach and watched the tide come in while Gerald went into one of his long speeches about the unusually high tidal range in the Bay. Dean stood next to Sam while Gerald spoke, but his gaze was fixed hard on the horizon. When Sam slid his hand into Dean's back pocket, his only reaction was the brief flex of his jaw as he clenched it.
Gerald finished speaking, and the others started taking pictures.
“Want me to take one of the two of you?” Gerald asked them after taking one of Paul and Ray posed with their arms wrapped around each other.
“No thanks,” said Dean, still not looking at Sam. “There's nothing I really want to remember about this moment.”
Gerald raised both eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Sam, but he didn't say anything, just turned away to ask Nick and James.
Sam sighed and pulled away from Dean, putting his hand in his own pocket instead. Somehow it felt much colder in there than it had in Dean's.
****
Gerald took them on a hike after they'd finished photographing the beach, up a steep, wooded hillside. The group strung out as they climbed up it – Gerald and Charlie strode off together, and Andrew came up behind them with Nick and James. Paul and Ray lagged far behind Sam and Dean, whispering what were either sweet nothings or pornographic suggestions to each other, if their expressions were any indication. Marcus and Victor took one look at the slope of the path and opted to stay with the bus and Brian.
Sam and Dean climbed in silence. Sam tried to think of something to say to break it, but gave up when all he could think of was: But why won't you fuck me?
Instead, he tried to reason it through to himself. Dean clearly wanted this on some level, or he wouldn't have kissed Sam last night, or reacted like he had to Sam's hand earlier. Something was holding him back, though, probably some crazy illogical line of thinking that Sam would never be able to guess at in a million years. He let the silence build for another ten minutes, then couldn't stop himself from speaking.
“I don't get it.”
Dean sighed. “Me neither, Sammy, but apparently lots of people think schlepping through woods and looking at trees is a good time.”
Sam ignored him. “I know you fucked those two sisters in Delaware, so it can't be the incest thing.”
“Man, they were hot,” reminisced Dean fondly. “And not my sisters. Besides, everyone knows threesomes are different.”
Sam didn't, and for a moment he was tempted to suggest inviting Andrew to join them if Dean really thought that was true. The idea of sharing Dean with anyone, but particularly Andrew, made a cold burst run down his spine. “No way, man, it's not that,” he said instead, then thought for a moment. “Is it the gay thing?”
Dean snorted. “Dude, I've been fucking guys since I was nineteen.”
Sam stopped walking and stared at him. “You have?”
Dean stopped as well, and turned back to Sam, twitching an eyebrow. “I can't believe you never noticed.”
Sam gaped at him. “You never said anything! You brag about women all the time – you never mentioned any men.”
Dean shrugged. “It's different.”
Sam was struck dumb. How had he managed to miss that? He started to go back through the last few years, since he'd left Stanford, trying to pinpoint any signs he'd missed.
He was so distracted that the first he knew of the attack was a growl and Dean yelling his name, closely followed by a heavy weight sending him crashing to the ground. He instinctively rolled with the creature's tackle, trying to get away from its teeth and claws. He kicked at its gut and tried to get at the gun tucked in his waistband. Claws raked down his arm and it burnt with pain.
“Sam!” yelled Dean again, and there was a gunshot. The bullet went wide – Dean was probably too scared of hitting him to aim properly - but the monster was distracted long enough for Sam to kick it again and drag himself out from under it.
There was another growl from Sam's left – the other monster – followed by more shots and then Dean swearing. Sam finally managed to get his gun out and aimed it at the creature that had tackled him. It froze when it saw the gun, then took off into the woods before Sam could get the safety off. He popped off a couple of shots at its retreating back, but he was still on the ground, and the angle was all wrong.
Both creatures disappeared as quickly as they'd arrived, and Dean fired after them a couple more times, then dropped to his knees beside Sam.
“Jesus, Sammy, you okay?”
“Yeah,” breathed Sam, sitting up and clutching at his arm where the monster had clawed him.
“Let me look,” said Dean, batting Sam's hand away and carefully pulling back the remains of Sam's sleeve to take a closer look. “It's just a scratch,” he said with relief. “You'll be fine.”
Sam had already known that, but he let Dean fuss over his arm for a bit. “Did you manage to wing either of them?” he asked.
Dean shook his head. “They were too damn close to you.”
“Yeah,” agreed Sam, standing up. “Guess we know what their plan is now Thomas and Jerry are gone.”
Dean stared at him. “You think they came after you deliberately?”
Sam shrugged, and cradled his injured arm against his chest. “They came straight for me,” he pointed out. “Neither of them went near you, right?”
“No,” said Dean slowly, “But then I had my gun out. Could just have been coincidence.”
“True,” Sam admitted, privately doubting it. Nothing was ever that easy for them.
“Let's get you down to the bus and sort out your arm,” said Dean.
Sam glanced up at the path ahead of them, thinking about the view from the top of the hill out over the bay, and nodded reluctantly.
“And here's another question,” said Dean as they turned to go back down the hill. “The others weren't that far ahead of us – surely they heard something?”
“Maybe they're all in on it,” suggested Sam, gloomily. “Maybe they're just waiting for the campfire this evening to cut us into small chunks and roast us on sticks, like wieners.”
Dean gave him a weird look. “Your brain is a scary place sometimes,” he said.
****
Back down at the bus, Brian was talking on his phone, but he hurriedly hung up when he saw them coming.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” he asked.
“He fell out of a tree,” said Dean before Sam could come up with a lie. “Caught his arm on a branch and scratched it to shit.”
“What were you doing up a tree?” asked Brian. Dean started to smirk. “You know what?” he added hurriedly. “Don't answer that.”
Dean got Sam's bag from the back of the bus and pulled out a couple of clean shirts for him to change into. Sam pulled off the ones he was wearing and sighed when he realised they were pretty much toast.
The claw marks were already closing, but Dean cleaned them anyway with Sam's old t-shirt and a bottle of water that Brian gave them. He stood close enough to Sam that Sam could feel his breath over his bare skin, and he had to take a deep calming breath.
Dean squinted at the wound. “If it wouldn't make Brian wonder why I've got such a big med kit in my bag,” he said quietly, “I'd stick a dressing over it, but it should be okay for now like that.”
Sam nodded. “If you're all done,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I want to put some clothes on. It's cold.” The temperature wasn't the real reason behind the goosebumps on his skin, but he wasn't sure Dean wanted to know just how much his proximity was affecting Sam.
Dean slapped his hand against Sam's chest. “You need to man up, Sammy.” He left his hand there for a lot longer than Sam was expecting, and slid it slowly down Sam's chest to his stomach before letting go. Sam stared at him, but Dean's expression was carefully blank.
A slow moment passed, then Dean turned away. “You seen any of the others?” he asked Brian.
“No,” said Brian, and Sam pulled himself together enough to start pulling his shirts on. “Marcus and Victor went back down to the beach not long after you all set off. Why?”
Dean shrugged. “Just thought Paul and Ray were behind us, is all. We didn't see them on the way down.”
Brian grinned. “Maybe they were off 'climbing trees' too.”
****
Marcus and Victor came back from the beach with beaming smiles, talking about two 'simply adorable' sea birds they'd seen, who 'just must have been in love.'
Andrew, Nick and James were the first back from the hike, and they were surprised to see Sam and Dean already at the bus.
“Did we go the wrong way?” asked Nick. “I thought it was just Charlie and Gerald in front of us.”
“We changed our minds about hiking,” said Dean with a shrug. “Too much damned nature.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked nature?” he asked.
“I think I'm reaching my limit,” replied Dean.
Charlie and Gerald weren't far behind them, and then there was a long wait for Paul and Ray. Sam watched Dean pace around the bus and tried not to think about the possibility that the monsters had gone after easier prey when Sam and Dean had chased them off.
When Paul and Ray did turn up, they were dishevelled and Ray had more than one leaf in his hair.
“Sorry,” said Paul when he saw they were all waiting. “We decided to take a page out of Dean's book.”
“It was pretty uncomfortable,” added Ray. “Not sure I'd do it on a regular basis.”
“Sam fell out of a tree,” Brian told them with a grin.
Ray looked at Sam with respect. “A tree? Wow.”
“Was anyone not having sex in the woods?” asked Gerald. “This group is kinda feisty – I might have to keep you better chaperoned.”
“We weren't having sex in the tree,” protested Sam weakly. No one looked like they believed him.
****
It was over an hour's drive to Annapolis Royal, where they were scheduled to have lunch, and Paul and Ray spent most of it picking leaves and bits of twig out of their clothes. Sam couldn't help wondering if they'd gotten there because they'd had sex, or because they'd been running around the forest in animal form.
“I hate this case,” he said in an undertone to Dean. “I hate the way we have to suspect everyone.”
“I hate that someone on this bus tried to kill you an hour ago, and we're about to sit down and have lunch with them,” replied Dean tersely. Sam grimaced at the thought.
****
They had lunch in a bar in Annapolis Royal. Afterwards, Gerald announced it was time to get back on the bus to go to the nearby fort of Port Royal, but Dean flat out refused.
“Me and Sam are staying right here,” he said. “You can come pick us up when you're done.”
Gerald hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine,” he said reluctantly, “But you'll be missing out.”
“I think I'll cope,” said Dean.
The others all went off with Gerald, although Paul looked back at them with longing as he left the bar.
“Right,” said Dean the moment they were gone, “we need to figure this out, and fast if they're coming after us now.”
Sam nodded. “What've we got? Paul and Ray were the last back, and we should have met them on the way back down the track. Unless they actually were just having sex.”
“Wouldn't put anything past those two,” said Dean. “And they really don't seem the type.”
Sam sighed. “Dean, if any of them seemed the type, we wouldn't have a problem.”
“True,” admitted Dean. “Okay, they're on the suspect list. What else we got?”
Sam shrugged. “Gerald and Charlie somehow went from in front of the others to behind them without them noticing. And Charlie was acting weird yesterday.”
Dean thought that over. “Yeah,” he conceded, “but they've only really seemed friendly in the last couple of days – and Charlie was with Andrew when Jerry and Thomas were attacked.”
Sam sighed and sat back. “Well, Andrew, James and Nick were all together, so we can cross them off the list, right? Unless there turns out to be three of these things.”
Dean nodded. “Brian was on his own – could be him and one of the others, if they managed to get away on their own for a bit.”
“Victor and Marcus were off by themselves,” pointed out Sam.
Dean snorted. “I think if they were our monsters, they'd move slow enough for us to actually shoot them.” He thumped the table in frustration. “Man, this is like one of those stupid logic puzzles you used to do as a kid.”
“You were always really good at those,” Sam remembered.
Dean laughed. “No, I used to sneak a look at the answers in the back.”
Sam gaped at him for a moment in betrayal. “You jerk! I thought I was just really slow at them!”
“Well, you were kinda slow for thinking I'd do them the proper way,” said Dean, quirking an eyebrow.
Sam shook his head. “You're such a bastard.”
“Yep,” agreed Dean happily. “Want another drink?”
Sam raised his eyebrows, remembering what had happened the last couple of times they'd been drinking. “You trying to get me drunk? Cos I'm pretty sure you don't need to. I'm the one trying to persuade you to have sex, remember?”
Dean sighed. “Maybe I need to be drunk,” he muttered.
“Look, Dean,” started Sam.
“No,” interrupted Dean. “Sammy...” He pursed his lips and looked away, his gaze travelling round the bar. When he looked back, resolve had hardened his eyes. “Just, no, Sam. We're not doing this, and we're done talking about it.”
Sam scowled with frustration. “If you'd just tell me why, I'd shut up about it.”
Dean snorted in disbelief. “You never shut up about this kind of shit,” he muttered.
“I know you want it,” insisted Sam, sitting forward. “You can't hide from me – last night, and earlier...” he trailed off when Dean laughed harshly.
“Sure,” he said mockingly. “I'm just an open book to you.”
Sam gripped tight at his own knee to stop himself reaching out for Dean. “Come on, man,” he begged. “Just give me a reason.”
Dean leaned forward on the table between them, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You want a reason?” he asked angrily. “I'll give you several. You're my baby brother, it's not right, you don't really want this, and I said No. No means no, Sam, even if I'm not a chick.”
Sam frowned. “How do you know if I want this or not?” he asked, ignoring Dean's other reasons.
Dean sat back with a sigh. “I know you, Sammy,” he said tiredly. “I mean, come on – did it ever even cross your mind before last week?”
That was true, and Sam took a moment to find an answer, before his brain caught on to what Dean hadn't said in his list of reasons. I said no was not the same as I don't want this. “Had it crossed yours?” he asked slowly.
Dean didn't reply. He didn't even look at Sam, just clenched his jaw tightly and glanced across the bar for a long minute.
“I'm going to phone Bobby,” he said after a silence that seemed to last forever. “Update him, see if he's got any ideas.” He got up and left the bar without looking back at Sam, leaving him behind to blink under the weight of the revelation.
Just how long had Dean been thinking about this? And if he'd wanted it for a while, why wasn't he just going for it now it was on offer?
You don't really want this. If Dean really believed that Sam was just suffering from temporary insanity and would change his mind later, there'd be no way he'd let anything happen. Sam just had to convince Dean that he did want this. Well, that couldn't be too hard, right? He sighed and resisted the temptation to knock his forehead against the table.
****
He sat in the bar for another ten minutes, trying to work out a plan of action that wouldn't end with Dean running for the hills. When he eventually gave up and left, Dean was just outside the door, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as if he wasn't waiting for Sam.
Sam leaned next to him without a word and they watched the traffic pass together for a few minutes.
“Bobby's still got nothing,” said Dean eventually.
Sam nodded – he'd expected as much. There was another silence while he tried to work out some way to put his thoughts into words that Dean might actually hear, but his mind was a blank.
“Bus'll be here soon,” said Dean, neutrally.
“Yeah,” agreed Sam, then just gave up and took a plunge. “Look, Dean,” Dean tensed as if waiting for a blow. “You're wrong about me not wanting this.”
Dean snorted. “Right,” he agreed sarcastically.
“I don't know how to prove that to you,” said Sam. “And I'm not even sure I should have to – you should trust me to know what I want.”
Dean didn't say anything for a long time, and Sam couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Either Dean was thinking about what he'd said, or he was ignoring it. Still, at least Sam had tried. He mentally put the ball in Dean's court, and fixed his eyes firmly on the corner of the road that the bus would appear around.
Just as it sailed into view, Dean sighed, sounding emotionally drained and pissed off all at once. “You should make sure you know whether you're going after this so hard because you actually want it, or because you just can't stand it when anyone says no to you.”
Sam whipped his head round to stare at him, but there was no time to reply. Dean stepped forward before the bus had even stopped moving, waving at the others on board with a false grin. Sam had to take a deep breath before he put his own 'happy tourist' face on, and forced down the emotional turmoil in his head.
****
Sam wasn't sure if the tension between him and Dean was obvious when they got back on the bus to head for Kejimkujik National Park, but he didn't really care what anyone that wasn't Dean thought at the moment. Dean spent the journey talking to the others, loud and cheerful, and Sam wasn't sure if he was still hopeful someone would drop a clue, or if he was just avoiding Sam.
Sam didn't join in, instead he leaned his head against the window and watched the landscape flash by, trying to work out what he should do next. Or even if he should do anything. Dean had made it clear that he wanted the whole thing forgotten after all, and it was true that Sam had never thought about it before. Maybe it was just a weird glitch caused by the case and their emotional proximity. Maybe Sam was just pursuing it through stubbornness and he'd end up changing his mind.
Except that he could still remember exactly how it had felt to kiss Dean in the pub; the rush of emotion and the sense of rightness and the warmth of Dean's body beneath his clothes. Now that he'd felt that, however briefly, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget it and he certainly couldn't ever imagine not wanting to do it again.
The bus pulled in to a rough parking lot at the end of a long lane, surrounded by trees, before he'd come to any conclusions. There was a small collection of tiny wooden cabins scattered through the woods and grouped around a clearing.
“Okay, guys,” said Gerald, happily. “This is my favourite place that we stay on the tour. We've got the whole place to ourselves.” He waved a hand through the trees. “There's a lake just down there – absolutely beautiful, and this evening we'll have a campfire in the middle of the clearing. And yes, I do have the makings of s'mores, because I'm awesome. If you all want to settle in and unpack, then meet me by the lake, it's absolutely gorgeous to swim in.”
“Is that an acceptable substitution for not getting to swim in the sea?” Brian asked Dean.
Dean grinned widely. “Better,” he said. “No salt.”
Gerald mock-glared at him. “And, people, please can we keep the sex-in-the-outdoors to a minimum? I don't want to get asked not to come back here.”
“No worries about us,” said Ray. “That was way too uncomfortable to want to repeat immediately.”
****
The cabins were small, but comfortably furnished. Sam dumped his bag on the large double bed that took up most of the space, and glanced around at the tasteful wall-hangings, wondering what it would be like to go back to their usual tacky motel rooms. Dean rifled quickly through his bag and grabbed his swimming shorts and a towel.
“It's a communal bathroom,” he said. “I'm going to find it. See you down by the lake.” He left without looking directly at Sam, and Sam bit his tongue, then sighed. He pulled out his own shorts and changed into them, then headed down to the lake.
Most of the others were already down there, splashing around just off a short dock, but Dean wasn't there yet.
“Hey,” said Brian with respect from the water where he was leaning back against the edge of the dock. “Nice tatt.”
Sam glanced down at the symbol on his chest, slightly uncomfortably. “Thanks,” he said, resisting the urge to rub it. It was still new enough to be a slight surprise every time he glanced down at his body to see it there. “What's the temperature like?” he asked.
Brian kicked his legs up. “Bit cold,” he admitted, “but okay once you get in.”
Sam nodded, then took a running jump and dove into the water. He'd swum in enough lakes to know it was all about getting in quickly and getting used to it. The first shock of water was very cold, and he pulled himself underwater for a few strokes to let his body adjust. The water was very murky, and he made a mental note to avoid swallowing it as much as he could.
When he came up for air, flicking his hair back out of his eyes, Dean was standing on the dock, watching him with a slight frown.
“Cool!” said Paul. “You guys have matching tattoos!”
“Oh, now that's adorable,” said Victor. He and Marcus were sitting on the dock together, fully clothed but with their pants rolled up so that they could dangle their legs in the water.
Dean winced. Sam let his eyes linger down his brother's body, not just over the tattoo which stood out black against his skin, but down over his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach.
I want to lick along his abs, he thought. I want to taste the skin over his hipbones. That's not just confusion or stubbornness.
“Ray,” said Paul excitedly, “We should get matching tattoos!”
Ray looked less than convinced. “Don't they hurt?” he asked.
Dean shrugged. “It's not as bad as everyone thinks,” he said.
“It's a big commitment, though,” said Sam, watching Dean's face. “Something you'll have for the rest of your life.” Dean met his eyes, and Sam tried to convey what he really meant with his eyes. From the way Dean's jaw clenched, and then his eyes looked away, Sam figured he got it.
“Definitely adorable,” said Victor with a sigh.
“I want to tattoo my name on your ass,” said Paul to Ray.
Ray blanched. “Uh, maybe for our five-year anniversary.”
“One year,” suggested Paul.
Ray shook his head. “Five years,” he said firmly.
“Aw, come on,” said Paul, paddling closer to Ray. Ray squeaked slightly, and Sam wondered where exactly Paul's hand was, then bleached the thought from his mind.
“No sex in the lake,” said Gerald firmly.
Paul pouted and pulled away. “That's no fun,” he sulked.
“It's way more fun for the rest of us,” muttered Brian.
Dean took a running jump off the dock, but rather than dive in like Sam had, he bombed, sending up a massive splash.
Andrew, who was treading water close by, was drenched. “Watch out,” he bitched when Dean surfaced, grinning like a kid. Dean's glee at pissing Andrew off made Sam want to kiss him until that happiness was aimed at Sam. Instead, he turned away and started swimming out towards the centre of the lake, wondering what he was going to do if Dean didn't change his mind. He wasn't sure he could cope with wanting Dean but not being able to have him.
****
Day Eleven (Part Two)
*
Rating: NC-17 this chapter, NC-17 overall.
Word count: 11,222/63,000 (this chapter/total)
A/N: Main header and notes: here.
This section is in two parts, because it's too long for one post.
Prologue, Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four, Day Five, Day Six, Day Seven, Day Eight, Day Nine, Day Ten, Day Eleven (Part One, Part Two), Epilogue.
Sam woke up to find Dean watching him, frowning slightly.
“Jesus,” he said and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Have you even slept?”
Dean ignored the question. “Up and at 'em, Sammy,” he said, turning away. “We've only got two days left to catch these monsters. I'm going for breakfast - come down when you're ready.” He left the room before Sam could say anything.
So they were back to the game of pretending nothing had happened. Sam contemplated that for a second, then rejected it. He'd kissed Dean, and Dean had kissed him, and it was insane and big and a little frightening, and he was damned if he was just going to push it all back down and ignore it. The resolve to do something about it, to stop just trying to pretend it wasn't happening made him feel lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Dean was eating something incredibly greasy when Sam came down to breakfast and nodding distractedly while Paul told him some story that involved a lot of hand gestures. Sam dropped into a seat next to him, kissed his cheek and took advantage of his moment of surprise to steal a piece of bacon.
Dean paused mid-bite and glared at him. “Don't mess with my bacon,” he grumbled.
Sam grinned at him. “What's yours is mine, right?” he asked.
“Dude, we're not married,” snapped Dean, and Sam could see he was genuinely pissed. He widened his grin until Dean's eyes narrowed.
“What's a little bacon between lovers?” he asked, and Dean looked like he was going to have some kind of fit.
“Sam,” he growled.
Sam patted his shoulder, then let his hand drift across to Dean's neck, his fingers trailing across his skin and stroking the short strands of hair there. “Relax,” he said. “I'll share mine when it comes.”
Dean clenched his jaw so tight that Sam thought he was going to crack teeth, and turned back to his breakfast.
Dean left the dining room before Sam had finished and was already on the bus, chatting to Brian, when Sam brought his bag out. Sam sat down next to him, as close as he could. Dean tensed, but didn't shift away.
“Brian was just saying how unusual the attack on Thomas was,” Dean said. “Apparently he's never heard of anything like it.”
Brian nodded. “And I've been doing this tour for years now.”
Sam put his hand on Dean's thigh, higher up than either of them had dared before now. Dean's leg twitched. “I guess something must have provoked them then,” he said.
“Maybe,” said Brian doubtfully, then his eyes settled on something outside the bus. “There's Victor and Marcus,” he said, standing up. “I better go help them with their bags.”
As soon as he'd gotten off the bus, Dean pulled away from Sam. “You can stop that shit now,” he said.
“Stop what?” asked Sam innocently. Dean glared at him. “Okay, fine,” said Sam, relenting slightly. “Just give me a good reason.”
Dean stared at him as if he was insane. “We're brothers,” he hissed.
Sam felt frustration rise up in him, and he knew it showed on his face. “If that really bothered you, nothing would have happened last night.”
Dean's mouth twisted at the reminder, and he glanced away for a moment. When he turned back, he leaned in close to Sam, voice dropping to a harsh whisper so that Brian, who was throwing bags in the back of the bus, wouldn't hear. “It's incest, Sam. I'm your brother - you really think you could fuck your brother?”
Sam deliberately put his hand back on Dean's inner thigh and slid it up to his crotch. At his touch, he could feel Dean's cock grow half-hard, and he ran his finger up the length of it, more than a little surprised by his own audacity. Dean sucked in a sudden breath and Sam felt his own cock twitch in response.
“Yeah,” he said with a dry mouth, “I could fuck my brother. Could you?”
Dean stared at him desperately for a moment, then smacked Sam's hand away. “No,” he rasped, but Sam didn't think he'd even managed to convince himself.
“Good morning, boys,” said Victor, climbing on to the bus. “Isn't it a lovely day?”
Dean pulled completely away from Sam, and turned to the window again. “Just peachy,” he said sarcastically.
Sam sighed. It figured it wouldn't be that easy.
It was only a short drive to the Bay of Fundy, where they all climbed down to a beach and watched the tide come in while Gerald went into one of his long speeches about the unusually high tidal range in the Bay. Dean stood next to Sam while Gerald spoke, but his gaze was fixed hard on the horizon. When Sam slid his hand into Dean's back pocket, his only reaction was the brief flex of his jaw as he clenched it.
Gerald finished speaking, and the others started taking pictures.
“Want me to take one of the two of you?” Gerald asked them after taking one of Paul and Ray posed with their arms wrapped around each other.
“No thanks,” said Dean, still not looking at Sam. “There's nothing I really want to remember about this moment.”
Gerald raised both eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Sam, but he didn't say anything, just turned away to ask Nick and James.
Sam sighed and pulled away from Dean, putting his hand in his own pocket instead. Somehow it felt much colder in there than it had in Dean's.
Gerald took them on a hike after they'd finished photographing the beach, up a steep, wooded hillside. The group strung out as they climbed up it – Gerald and Charlie strode off together, and Andrew came up behind them with Nick and James. Paul and Ray lagged far behind Sam and Dean, whispering what were either sweet nothings or pornographic suggestions to each other, if their expressions were any indication. Marcus and Victor took one look at the slope of the path and opted to stay with the bus and Brian.
Sam and Dean climbed in silence. Sam tried to think of something to say to break it, but gave up when all he could think of was: But why won't you fuck me?
Instead, he tried to reason it through to himself. Dean clearly wanted this on some level, or he wouldn't have kissed Sam last night, or reacted like he had to Sam's hand earlier. Something was holding him back, though, probably some crazy illogical line of thinking that Sam would never be able to guess at in a million years. He let the silence build for another ten minutes, then couldn't stop himself from speaking.
“I don't get it.”
Dean sighed. “Me neither, Sammy, but apparently lots of people think schlepping through woods and looking at trees is a good time.”
Sam ignored him. “I know you fucked those two sisters in Delaware, so it can't be the incest thing.”
“Man, they were hot,” reminisced Dean fondly. “And not my sisters. Besides, everyone knows threesomes are different.”
Sam didn't, and for a moment he was tempted to suggest inviting Andrew to join them if Dean really thought that was true. The idea of sharing Dean with anyone, but particularly Andrew, made a cold burst run down his spine. “No way, man, it's not that,” he said instead, then thought for a moment. “Is it the gay thing?”
Dean snorted. “Dude, I've been fucking guys since I was nineteen.”
Sam stopped walking and stared at him. “You have?”
Dean stopped as well, and turned back to Sam, twitching an eyebrow. “I can't believe you never noticed.”
Sam gaped at him. “You never said anything! You brag about women all the time – you never mentioned any men.”
Dean shrugged. “It's different.”
Sam was struck dumb. How had he managed to miss that? He started to go back through the last few years, since he'd left Stanford, trying to pinpoint any signs he'd missed.
He was so distracted that the first he knew of the attack was a growl and Dean yelling his name, closely followed by a heavy weight sending him crashing to the ground. He instinctively rolled with the creature's tackle, trying to get away from its teeth and claws. He kicked at its gut and tried to get at the gun tucked in his waistband. Claws raked down his arm and it burnt with pain.
“Sam!” yelled Dean again, and there was a gunshot. The bullet went wide – Dean was probably too scared of hitting him to aim properly - but the monster was distracted long enough for Sam to kick it again and drag himself out from under it.
There was another growl from Sam's left – the other monster – followed by more shots and then Dean swearing. Sam finally managed to get his gun out and aimed it at the creature that had tackled him. It froze when it saw the gun, then took off into the woods before Sam could get the safety off. He popped off a couple of shots at its retreating back, but he was still on the ground, and the angle was all wrong.
Both creatures disappeared as quickly as they'd arrived, and Dean fired after them a couple more times, then dropped to his knees beside Sam.
“Jesus, Sammy, you okay?”
“Yeah,” breathed Sam, sitting up and clutching at his arm where the monster had clawed him.
“Let me look,” said Dean, batting Sam's hand away and carefully pulling back the remains of Sam's sleeve to take a closer look. “It's just a scratch,” he said with relief. “You'll be fine.”
Sam had already known that, but he let Dean fuss over his arm for a bit. “Did you manage to wing either of them?” he asked.
Dean shook his head. “They were too damn close to you.”
“Yeah,” agreed Sam, standing up. “Guess we know what their plan is now Thomas and Jerry are gone.”
Dean stared at him. “You think they came after you deliberately?”
Sam shrugged, and cradled his injured arm against his chest. “They came straight for me,” he pointed out. “Neither of them went near you, right?”
“No,” said Dean slowly, “But then I had my gun out. Could just have been coincidence.”
“True,” Sam admitted, privately doubting it. Nothing was ever that easy for them.
“Let's get you down to the bus and sort out your arm,” said Dean.
Sam glanced up at the path ahead of them, thinking about the view from the top of the hill out over the bay, and nodded reluctantly.
“And here's another question,” said Dean as they turned to go back down the hill. “The others weren't that far ahead of us – surely they heard something?”
“Maybe they're all in on it,” suggested Sam, gloomily. “Maybe they're just waiting for the campfire this evening to cut us into small chunks and roast us on sticks, like wieners.”
Dean gave him a weird look. “Your brain is a scary place sometimes,” he said.
Back down at the bus, Brian was talking on his phone, but he hurriedly hung up when he saw them coming.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” he asked.
“He fell out of a tree,” said Dean before Sam could come up with a lie. “Caught his arm on a branch and scratched it to shit.”
“What were you doing up a tree?” asked Brian. Dean started to smirk. “You know what?” he added hurriedly. “Don't answer that.”
Dean got Sam's bag from the back of the bus and pulled out a couple of clean shirts for him to change into. Sam pulled off the ones he was wearing and sighed when he realised they were pretty much toast.
The claw marks were already closing, but Dean cleaned them anyway with Sam's old t-shirt and a bottle of water that Brian gave them. He stood close enough to Sam that Sam could feel his breath over his bare skin, and he had to take a deep calming breath.
Dean squinted at the wound. “If it wouldn't make Brian wonder why I've got such a big med kit in my bag,” he said quietly, “I'd stick a dressing over it, but it should be okay for now like that.”
Sam nodded. “If you're all done,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I want to put some clothes on. It's cold.” The temperature wasn't the real reason behind the goosebumps on his skin, but he wasn't sure Dean wanted to know just how much his proximity was affecting Sam.
Dean slapped his hand against Sam's chest. “You need to man up, Sammy.” He left his hand there for a lot longer than Sam was expecting, and slid it slowly down Sam's chest to his stomach before letting go. Sam stared at him, but Dean's expression was carefully blank.
A slow moment passed, then Dean turned away. “You seen any of the others?” he asked Brian.
“No,” said Brian, and Sam pulled himself together enough to start pulling his shirts on. “Marcus and Victor went back down to the beach not long after you all set off. Why?”
Dean shrugged. “Just thought Paul and Ray were behind us, is all. We didn't see them on the way down.”
Brian grinned. “Maybe they were off 'climbing trees' too.”
Marcus and Victor came back from the beach with beaming smiles, talking about two 'simply adorable' sea birds they'd seen, who 'just must have been in love.'
Andrew, Nick and James were the first back from the hike, and they were surprised to see Sam and Dean already at the bus.
“Did we go the wrong way?” asked Nick. “I thought it was just Charlie and Gerald in front of us.”
“We changed our minds about hiking,” said Dean with a shrug. “Too much damned nature.”
James raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked nature?” he asked.
“I think I'm reaching my limit,” replied Dean.
Charlie and Gerald weren't far behind them, and then there was a long wait for Paul and Ray. Sam watched Dean pace around the bus and tried not to think about the possibility that the monsters had gone after easier prey when Sam and Dean had chased them off.
When Paul and Ray did turn up, they were dishevelled and Ray had more than one leaf in his hair.
“Sorry,” said Paul when he saw they were all waiting. “We decided to take a page out of Dean's book.”
“It was pretty uncomfortable,” added Ray. “Not sure I'd do it on a regular basis.”
“Sam fell out of a tree,” Brian told them with a grin.
Ray looked at Sam with respect. “A tree? Wow.”
“Was anyone not having sex in the woods?” asked Gerald. “This group is kinda feisty – I might have to keep you better chaperoned.”
“We weren't having sex in the tree,” protested Sam weakly. No one looked like they believed him.
It was over an hour's drive to Annapolis Royal, where they were scheduled to have lunch, and Paul and Ray spent most of it picking leaves and bits of twig out of their clothes. Sam couldn't help wondering if they'd gotten there because they'd had sex, or because they'd been running around the forest in animal form.
“I hate this case,” he said in an undertone to Dean. “I hate the way we have to suspect everyone.”
“I hate that someone on this bus tried to kill you an hour ago, and we're about to sit down and have lunch with them,” replied Dean tersely. Sam grimaced at the thought.
They had lunch in a bar in Annapolis Royal. Afterwards, Gerald announced it was time to get back on the bus to go to the nearby fort of Port Royal, but Dean flat out refused.
“Me and Sam are staying right here,” he said. “You can come pick us up when you're done.”
Gerald hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine,” he said reluctantly, “But you'll be missing out.”
“I think I'll cope,” said Dean.
The others all went off with Gerald, although Paul looked back at them with longing as he left the bar.
“Right,” said Dean the moment they were gone, “we need to figure this out, and fast if they're coming after us now.”
Sam nodded. “What've we got? Paul and Ray were the last back, and we should have met them on the way back down the track. Unless they actually were just having sex.”
“Wouldn't put anything past those two,” said Dean. “And they really don't seem the type.”
Sam sighed. “Dean, if any of them seemed the type, we wouldn't have a problem.”
“True,” admitted Dean. “Okay, they're on the suspect list. What else we got?”
Sam shrugged. “Gerald and Charlie somehow went from in front of the others to behind them without them noticing. And Charlie was acting weird yesterday.”
Dean thought that over. “Yeah,” he conceded, “but they've only really seemed friendly in the last couple of days – and Charlie was with Andrew when Jerry and Thomas were attacked.”
Sam sighed and sat back. “Well, Andrew, James and Nick were all together, so we can cross them off the list, right? Unless there turns out to be three of these things.”
Dean nodded. “Brian was on his own – could be him and one of the others, if they managed to get away on their own for a bit.”
“Victor and Marcus were off by themselves,” pointed out Sam.
Dean snorted. “I think if they were our monsters, they'd move slow enough for us to actually shoot them.” He thumped the table in frustration. “Man, this is like one of those stupid logic puzzles you used to do as a kid.”
“You were always really good at those,” Sam remembered.
Dean laughed. “No, I used to sneak a look at the answers in the back.”
Sam gaped at him for a moment in betrayal. “You jerk! I thought I was just really slow at them!”
“Well, you were kinda slow for thinking I'd do them the proper way,” said Dean, quirking an eyebrow.
Sam shook his head. “You're such a bastard.”
“Yep,” agreed Dean happily. “Want another drink?”
Sam raised his eyebrows, remembering what had happened the last couple of times they'd been drinking. “You trying to get me drunk? Cos I'm pretty sure you don't need to. I'm the one trying to persuade you to have sex, remember?”
Dean sighed. “Maybe I need to be drunk,” he muttered.
“Look, Dean,” started Sam.
“No,” interrupted Dean. “Sammy...” He pursed his lips and looked away, his gaze travelling round the bar. When he looked back, resolve had hardened his eyes. “Just, no, Sam. We're not doing this, and we're done talking about it.”
Sam scowled with frustration. “If you'd just tell me why, I'd shut up about it.”
Dean snorted in disbelief. “You never shut up about this kind of shit,” he muttered.
“I know you want it,” insisted Sam, sitting forward. “You can't hide from me – last night, and earlier...” he trailed off when Dean laughed harshly.
“Sure,” he said mockingly. “I'm just an open book to you.”
Sam gripped tight at his own knee to stop himself reaching out for Dean. “Come on, man,” he begged. “Just give me a reason.”
Dean leaned forward on the table between them, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You want a reason?” he asked angrily. “I'll give you several. You're my baby brother, it's not right, you don't really want this, and I said No. No means no, Sam, even if I'm not a chick.”
Sam frowned. “How do you know if I want this or not?” he asked, ignoring Dean's other reasons.
Dean sat back with a sigh. “I know you, Sammy,” he said tiredly. “I mean, come on – did it ever even cross your mind before last week?”
That was true, and Sam took a moment to find an answer, before his brain caught on to what Dean hadn't said in his list of reasons. I said no was not the same as I don't want this. “Had it crossed yours?” he asked slowly.
Dean didn't reply. He didn't even look at Sam, just clenched his jaw tightly and glanced across the bar for a long minute.
“I'm going to phone Bobby,” he said after a silence that seemed to last forever. “Update him, see if he's got any ideas.” He got up and left the bar without looking back at Sam, leaving him behind to blink under the weight of the revelation.
Just how long had Dean been thinking about this? And if he'd wanted it for a while, why wasn't he just going for it now it was on offer?
You don't really want this. If Dean really believed that Sam was just suffering from temporary insanity and would change his mind later, there'd be no way he'd let anything happen. Sam just had to convince Dean that he did want this. Well, that couldn't be too hard, right? He sighed and resisted the temptation to knock his forehead against the table.
He sat in the bar for another ten minutes, trying to work out a plan of action that wouldn't end with Dean running for the hills. When he eventually gave up and left, Dean was just outside the door, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as if he wasn't waiting for Sam.
Sam leaned next to him without a word and they watched the traffic pass together for a few minutes.
“Bobby's still got nothing,” said Dean eventually.
Sam nodded – he'd expected as much. There was another silence while he tried to work out some way to put his thoughts into words that Dean might actually hear, but his mind was a blank.
“Bus'll be here soon,” said Dean, neutrally.
“Yeah,” agreed Sam, then just gave up and took a plunge. “Look, Dean,” Dean tensed as if waiting for a blow. “You're wrong about me not wanting this.”
Dean snorted. “Right,” he agreed sarcastically.
“I don't know how to prove that to you,” said Sam. “And I'm not even sure I should have to – you should trust me to know what I want.”
Dean didn't say anything for a long time, and Sam couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Either Dean was thinking about what he'd said, or he was ignoring it. Still, at least Sam had tried. He mentally put the ball in Dean's court, and fixed his eyes firmly on the corner of the road that the bus would appear around.
Just as it sailed into view, Dean sighed, sounding emotionally drained and pissed off all at once. “You should make sure you know whether you're going after this so hard because you actually want it, or because you just can't stand it when anyone says no to you.”
Sam whipped his head round to stare at him, but there was no time to reply. Dean stepped forward before the bus had even stopped moving, waving at the others on board with a false grin. Sam had to take a deep breath before he put his own 'happy tourist' face on, and forced down the emotional turmoil in his head.
Sam wasn't sure if the tension between him and Dean was obvious when they got back on the bus to head for Kejimkujik National Park, but he didn't really care what anyone that wasn't Dean thought at the moment. Dean spent the journey talking to the others, loud and cheerful, and Sam wasn't sure if he was still hopeful someone would drop a clue, or if he was just avoiding Sam.
Sam didn't join in, instead he leaned his head against the window and watched the landscape flash by, trying to work out what he should do next. Or even if he should do anything. Dean had made it clear that he wanted the whole thing forgotten after all, and it was true that Sam had never thought about it before. Maybe it was just a weird glitch caused by the case and their emotional proximity. Maybe Sam was just pursuing it through stubbornness and he'd end up changing his mind.
Except that he could still remember exactly how it had felt to kiss Dean in the pub; the rush of emotion and the sense of rightness and the warmth of Dean's body beneath his clothes. Now that he'd felt that, however briefly, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget it and he certainly couldn't ever imagine not wanting to do it again.
The bus pulled in to a rough parking lot at the end of a long lane, surrounded by trees, before he'd come to any conclusions. There was a small collection of tiny wooden cabins scattered through the woods and grouped around a clearing.
“Okay, guys,” said Gerald, happily. “This is my favourite place that we stay on the tour. We've got the whole place to ourselves.” He waved a hand through the trees. “There's a lake just down there – absolutely beautiful, and this evening we'll have a campfire in the middle of the clearing. And yes, I do have the makings of s'mores, because I'm awesome. If you all want to settle in and unpack, then meet me by the lake, it's absolutely gorgeous to swim in.”
“Is that an acceptable substitution for not getting to swim in the sea?” Brian asked Dean.
Dean grinned widely. “Better,” he said. “No salt.”
Gerald mock-glared at him. “And, people, please can we keep the sex-in-the-outdoors to a minimum? I don't want to get asked not to come back here.”
“No worries about us,” said Ray. “That was way too uncomfortable to want to repeat immediately.”
The cabins were small, but comfortably furnished. Sam dumped his bag on the large double bed that took up most of the space, and glanced around at the tasteful wall-hangings, wondering what it would be like to go back to their usual tacky motel rooms. Dean rifled quickly through his bag and grabbed his swimming shorts and a towel.
“It's a communal bathroom,” he said. “I'm going to find it. See you down by the lake.” He left without looking directly at Sam, and Sam bit his tongue, then sighed. He pulled out his own shorts and changed into them, then headed down to the lake.
Most of the others were already down there, splashing around just off a short dock, but Dean wasn't there yet.
“Hey,” said Brian with respect from the water where he was leaning back against the edge of the dock. “Nice tatt.”
Sam glanced down at the symbol on his chest, slightly uncomfortably. “Thanks,” he said, resisting the urge to rub it. It was still new enough to be a slight surprise every time he glanced down at his body to see it there. “What's the temperature like?” he asked.
Brian kicked his legs up. “Bit cold,” he admitted, “but okay once you get in.”
Sam nodded, then took a running jump and dove into the water. He'd swum in enough lakes to know it was all about getting in quickly and getting used to it. The first shock of water was very cold, and he pulled himself underwater for a few strokes to let his body adjust. The water was very murky, and he made a mental note to avoid swallowing it as much as he could.
When he came up for air, flicking his hair back out of his eyes, Dean was standing on the dock, watching him with a slight frown.
“Cool!” said Paul. “You guys have matching tattoos!”
“Oh, now that's adorable,” said Victor. He and Marcus were sitting on the dock together, fully clothed but with their pants rolled up so that they could dangle their legs in the water.
Dean winced. Sam let his eyes linger down his brother's body, not just over the tattoo which stood out black against his skin, but down over his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach.
I want to lick along his abs, he thought. I want to taste the skin over his hipbones. That's not just confusion or stubbornness.
“Ray,” said Paul excitedly, “We should get matching tattoos!”
Ray looked less than convinced. “Don't they hurt?” he asked.
Dean shrugged. “It's not as bad as everyone thinks,” he said.
“It's a big commitment, though,” said Sam, watching Dean's face. “Something you'll have for the rest of your life.” Dean met his eyes, and Sam tried to convey what he really meant with his eyes. From the way Dean's jaw clenched, and then his eyes looked away, Sam figured he got it.
“Definitely adorable,” said Victor with a sigh.
“I want to tattoo my name on your ass,” said Paul to Ray.
Ray blanched. “Uh, maybe for our five-year anniversary.”
“One year,” suggested Paul.
Ray shook his head. “Five years,” he said firmly.
“Aw, come on,” said Paul, paddling closer to Ray. Ray squeaked slightly, and Sam wondered where exactly Paul's hand was, then bleached the thought from his mind.
“No sex in the lake,” said Gerald firmly.
Paul pouted and pulled away. “That's no fun,” he sulked.
“It's way more fun for the rest of us,” muttered Brian.
Dean took a running jump off the dock, but rather than dive in like Sam had, he bombed, sending up a massive splash.
Andrew, who was treading water close by, was drenched. “Watch out,” he bitched when Dean surfaced, grinning like a kid. Dean's glee at pissing Andrew off made Sam want to kiss him until that happiness was aimed at Sam. Instead, he turned away and started swimming out towards the centre of the lake, wondering what he was going to do if Dean didn't change his mind. He wasn't sure he could cope with wanting Dean but not being able to have him.
*
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Date: 2009-02-01 12:41 pm (UTC)♥
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Date: 2009-02-01 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-03 11:54 pm (UTC)So much UST though... lol! You can cut it with a knife. Or...not. Maybe a silver one. Or...something. -babbling over-
-clicks on part two-
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Date: 2009-02-04 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-08 04:20 pm (UTC)Lmao, I love when Sam tries to start a conversation about why Dean won't just fuck him and Dean obliviously complains about 'schlepping' through woods XD And when you mention Sam not wanting to share Dean, I can't help but think of The List!
Ahahahaha, tree sex! Best part is Ray seriously respecting them for it XD
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Date: 2009-02-09 12:35 am (UTC)I respectfully disagree. The best part is the mental images. *nods*
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Date: 2009-02-17 12:48 am (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2009-02-17 10:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 11:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-31 03:02 am (UTC)Y’know that’s true about tattoos not hurting as much as everyone seems to think. Mine was uncomfortable, but not make-you-cry painful or anything. Then again, I guess folks with low pain thresholds wouldn’t be able to take it. *shrug* Never mind. LOL!
Awwww! Now both of them don’t get what they want. Stubborn, stubborn Dean!
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Date: 2010-01-06 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-16 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-17 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-30 09:51 am (UTC)Felt for Dean in this chapter. Torn between his strong feelings for Sam, and his duty as an older brother to protect and care for Sam and to not (in Dean’s opinion) take advantage of his younger brother. So pleased Sam won him over in the end.
Looks like Charlie has dumped Andrew for the Tour Guide
Love this sentence: ‘Sam couldn't help wondering if they'd gotten there because they'd had sex, or because they'd been running around the forest in animal form’.
I must admit; I was surprised to read that Dean, and not Sam, was good at logic puzzles. Until I read further down that is … LOL.
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Date: 2011-01-06 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 09:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-31 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-01 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-20 01:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-06 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-07 12:45 am (UTC)