Takes One to Know One, Part 1 [nc17] Sam/Alec/Dean, SPN/DA/GG xover
Title: Takes One to Know One (sequel to If You Only Knew)
Author: queenklu
Beta by: no one, because a beta shouldn't have to beta her b-day pressie ^^
Crossover: Supernatural/Dark Angel/Gilmore Girls
Pairings: Sam/Dean, Sam/Alec/Dean, Alec/Dean Forester (from Gilmore Girls) *...nod*
Rating/Warnings: NC17, Wincest, threesome, cracktastic pairings...
Word Count: 15,000+ O.O How did this happen? Why can't i just write a !@&*!@# threesome without character developement like everyone else??? *headdeskflail*
A/n HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHRI_AMATO!!!!! *CLING!!* Also, i have no idea how/why this story ended up from Alec's POV, but...that just means freakishly hot outsider pov on the wincest! =DD
Summary: After the secret of Sam's ex-boyfriend and a not-so-platonic-brotherly-love came out (in more ways than one), Alec never thought Sam would want to see him again. So when Sam shows up at Jam Pony looking just a little bit shorter, little bit younger, and acting like he's never seen Alec in his life because he grew up in the dinky nothing-town of Star's Hollow? Things get interesting. Fast.
Takes One to Know One
by queenklu
Alec stood quietly in front of his open locker, spinning his sweating bottle of coke between his hands and steadfastly ignoring the feeling of carbonated bubbles popping in his heart. It wasn’t pleasant. Fuck, losing Sam had hurt even when they weren’t broken up yet, and he wasn’t sure why, just knew the way his ribs constricted at the first yelp of that alien name from Sam’s guilty lips. Some part of him had been in as much denial about Sam’s feelings for this “Dean” person as Sam had-they’d both fought a lot harder to stay together than the relationship really warranted. So when he’d finally called it off…
Alec’s hand clenched automatically around the glass, thumbnail digging into the waterlogged logo. Sam had nearly fallen to pieces when Alec had finally dragged up the guts to break it off, pale and shaking like a druggy suddenly denied his fix. Alec hadn’t even made it out of the apartment, dragged Sam onto the couch before his legs gave out on him and sat with him, talked and talked and talked until Sam’s eyes lost their glazed panicked look and his breathing evened out.
Then, after Sam had told him about Dean (the absolute bare minimum-childhood friend, grew up together, and completely dedicated to a job that had nothing to do with Sam), he dragged the lanky bastard to a tattoo parlor down the street and sat him in the chair himself, shoving a piece of paper in the tattooist’s beefy hand-a scrap torn out of one of Sam’s notebooks, where every margin was filled with the same doodle over and over again: Narrow oval face, big lips, devil’s horns.
Same thing that dangled from Dean’s neck when he’d punched Alec in a dingy bar two blocks over that Alec had been casing for a job.
Sam had scowled, told him he was fine and stronger than this, and gotten the tattoo anyway when Alec said, “Of course you are, short stack. And now you’ll fucking remember it.”
Except, apparently, not. Because Dean was Sam’s brother, and that can’t be erased or gotten over. (This was according to a few of his X-brethren; Alec had never really been in love with anyone enough to know about permanent marks that weren’t barcode tattoos.)
He scratched at the back of his neck where the make-up was chafing, and sighed. Coke for breakfast. Not the best plan on an empty stomach still recovering from a night with José.
But Sam was good, now. Sam was better than good, considering all the shit he’d had to put up with in his life: dead mom, dead Jess, dead-beat Dad, and no Dean for four years… His little addiction. But judging from the way Dean had acted at the bar, the addiction went both ways, just as hard. It wouldn’t have been healthy if it’d been any less, but for all that fucking your brother should be Not Healthy in so, so many ways, Sam seemed to be thriving on it. At least, if his goofy, shy little grin was anything to go on now…
Alec blinked, not exactly sure when he’d started staring at Sam. Not exactly sure when Sam had even come into Jam Pony.
“Excuse me,” Sam was saying to Normal, trying to catch his attention between the new headset and the latest batch of packages, “I was just-"
“Hey, hey,” Alec cut him off, bounding over a fallen bike and two benches to reach him, breathlessly landing a hand on his arm to turn him around. “I’m here, man, what’s up?”
He honestly hadn’t thought Sam would want to see him again after what’d happened at the bar; letting slip that your ex had hard-core un-platonic love for his older brother wasn’t exactly a thing to forgive and forget. But he was here! He’d tracked him down! To apparently give him a really weird look and tilt his head back towards Normal.
“Isn’t the line, “What are your other two wishes?”” Sam asked slowly, his smile brittle and confused, disdainful, before he leaned on the counter and told Normal, “I’m looking for a job.”
“You’re moving to Seattle?” Alec blurted, cutting off his boss fast enough to actually catch the man’s attention.
“Gotta call you back,” Normal muttered into his headset, then nearly tore off the ear it was attached to when he pulled it off, beetle eyes wide behind his coke-bottle glasses.
“Uh, yeah,” Sam said, still ridiculously cautious.
“With Dean?” Alec pressed, “I mean, everything’s still-"
“Wh-what?” Sam stammered. “How did-I mean- Look, man. I just need a job, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Jesus, Sam-" Alec started, confused as hell and yeah, hella hurt too.
Normal cut him off. “We got a problem, golden boy?”
“I just-" Sam tried again, close to begging.
“Wasn’t talking to you. Alec?” Normal queried (because really, only Normal can), “You got some freaky history with the kid or can I hire him for a couple days? Max is out, a-flipping-gain, doing who knows what, and the Belgians need their waffles, people, BIP BIP BIP!”
“No,” Alec forced out, biting off the word after a stunned minute of Sam’s incomprehensible expression, “no history at all.”
He started to walk away, bag shoved angrily on his shoulder and drink forgotten in his hand, when he heard Sam mutter behind him, “What’s his pr-”
Alec socked him in the jaw. Sam went down like he’d never been punched before-pussy-and Alec toed the flooding bottle out of the way to loom over him, spitting mad. “Next time you want to tell an ex he’s officially out of your life send a fucking card,” he snarled, and kicked the bottle at Sam’s head.
Original Cindy caught up with him at the door and linked arms without his permission. “So,” she said, “You’re gay.”
He grit his teeth and pushed her into a hot dog stand.
~*~
Alec was still fuming five stops later as he slid through the check point for sector four just before the guards went on lunch break, so annoyed that he forgot to check the caller I.D. on his cell before he answered it with a curt, “What?”
“Hey, Alec,” Sam’s voice said into the receiver, “I was just, uh, calling to let you know that Dean and I-shut up, Dean-we’re staying in Seattle for a bit, wondering if we could take you to dinner. Or to a bar, or something. You know. To say thanks.”
Alec froze. Pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, then put it back. Barely managed to croak out, “Thanks?”
“Yeah, uh…” Sam laughed softly into the phone, and Alec could practically see the awkwardly cute angle of his neck. “It worked out. Me and Dean. And it’s all your fault, asshole, so you better let us say thank you.”
Alec heard a quiet scuffle on the other end as Dean tried to say something and Sam put his giant hand over his face and pushed him away. “So how bout it? Don’t tell me you have plans-ex-boyfriends and weird-ass doubles get first dibs.”
Something clicked in Alec’s brain, something horrible and nagging that had been chewing on him since he’d heard the sound of Sam’s voice, blissfully happy and spoken through a grin that even a crappy connection on a cellphone couldn’t distort or hide.
He took a deep breath and asked, “Sam…were you at Jam Pony today?”
“Uh, no,” Sam asked, sounding slightly distracted. “I haven’t-" Alec could feel the blush through the telephone. “-haven’t actually left the hotel room yet.”
Part of Alec wanted to point out that it was a little before noon two whole days after their run-in at the bar, and they should’ve at least gone out to get food because room service was iffy at the best of times but…that part was about .005%. The rest of him was having difficulty breathing.
“Ohhhh, fuck,” he groaned into the phone, choosing to ignore Dean’s muffled, “That’s the idea,” on the other line. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Sam?”
“Yeah?” Sam said, all of his attention honed and focused solely on Alec in that uncanny way he’d always had when something was wrong.
“I think I punched your double in the face.”
~*~
“Seattle. Fucking. Rocks,” Dean announced for what had to be the tenth time since Not-Sam had wandered in for his next batch of packages. The kid (that was his nickname throughout Jam Pony, thanks to this morning) wasn’t as freakishly muscled as Sam, so riding his bike through traffic almost all day had left him dirty, sweaty, and stripped down to a pair of jeans and a thin, sweaty, dirty wife-beater, which just emphasized how fucking narrow he was all over without being geeky about it. Sam had filled out like a bear or a line-backer; Not-Sam seemed happy the way he was, lanky and lean.
Alec. Had never. Wanted ANYTHING. More. In. His. Life. He was half-way through contemplating an “accidental” blow job, just to get the kid’s dick in his mouth, when he realized just how close to That Time of the Year it was. Oh joy, the life of a transgenic. Shiiiit. Alec shifted his shoulders under his zip-up and tried very hard not to sweat.
Have you ever tried not to sweat? Fucking impossible.
Especially with Dean’s eyes smoldering so hot Alec could feel them scorching the back of his neck and Dean wasn’t even looking at him. At least, he was pretty sure. Dean was behind him, after all, and slightly behind and to the left of Sam where they were all crowded behind a row of lockers, spying on the front desk. Alec had let them in the back way in case Original Cindy decided to mistakenly wale on Sam for being such a horrible homosexual (unlikely, considering the hot dog stand, but still a viable concern), and other than standing a fraction of an inch closer and the hickeys their high collars weren’t quite hiding, no one would have noticed a difference between the two. No one but Alec, or maybe Sam’s elusive son-of-a-bitch father.
“He just showed up?” Sam asked for the second time in ten minutes, “No warning, nothing?”
“Do you often send announcements to places you plan to apply for a job?” Alec asked, wide-eyed and sarcastic.
Sam rolled his eyes after a very brief glare, then looked down to where the very tip of Dean’s finger was hooking into his belt-loop and draw him in. “Well, Dean, this could be-uh. You know.” He coughed, not trying to pull away, but not letting himself be pulled too much closer either. (He liked the pull-Alec could read it all over his face-of Dean needing, wanting him, and all it did was make Alec ache.) “Right up our alley.”
“You two cruising for a threesome?” Alec drawled, smirking so they’d understand it was joke and not look to closely at how breathless his whisper sounded. Instead Alec found himself pinned by two stares so heated he felt something in him start to spontaneously combust before Sam palmed Dean’s face and gave him a shove.
“Keep it in your pants, Dean, we could have work to do.”
“Right.” Dean sobered up so fast it was almost impressive, and only slightly marred by the smack he gave Sam’s ass. “Well, we can’t get close enough to see if his eyes reflect, because he, uh, “knows” Alec and me and, well, you’ll probably set off a few bells too.”
“Why would his eyes reflect?” Alec demanded slowly, figuring he was still reeling from the idea of a threesome, “You think he has cat or dog in his cocktail? ‘Cause my eyes twinkle, but they sure don’t shine.”
Sam and Dean blinked at him. “What. The fuck,” Dean chewed off. “Are you talking about.”
“What-what are you talking about?” Alec spluttered.
“I asked first.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Alec,” Sam warned, and-and that was apparently all the warning he was getting before Sam’s lips landed on his.
Alec slammed into the lockers with a loud, smashing bang, and then he was climbing Sam like a fucking tree, arms tight around his neck and head to keep it close enough to kiss, legs wrapped high around his hips and trying to get higher because Sam’s Tongue Was In His Mouth and Sam’s Hands Were On His Ass, and it might as well have been a national holiday for all he was concerned because, yeah, HOLY FUCK.
He was also officially in heat, so that didn’t help matters.
He caught Sam’s bottom lip and mewled, hot and low, when Sam pulled away, and his head thumped against the lockers, breathing hard, ears ringing with cat-calls.
“Ow-OW,” Max whooped again, tactless bitch, “Gonna give us a little show there Alec?”
“Ugh.” Original Cindy pulled a face. “There are at least two too many dicks in this equation.”
Alec forced himself to make faces back, still held up (practically cradled) by Sam, and let his eyes finally fall on the doppelganger. Poor, wide-eyed, flabbergasted Not-Sam. Who turned on his heel and left.
“Guess it was too much to ask for us all to bat on the same team,” Sam murmured against the shell of Alec’s ear as he let his forehead thump against Sam’s collarbone on a groan.
“Oh come on,” Dean said, voice at least two octaves lower, husky like…he’d been learning new things to do with it, “Nobody’s that straight.”
“So that’s what this was about?” Alec asked, not meanly, looking down at where his hips and Sam’s fit snugly together. “Showing the kid how hot it could look if he jumped me?”
“Unless he’s a shapeshifter,” Dean pointed out, sliding in beside them, offering a thigh for Sam to rest some of Alec’s weight on, “Then we’ll have to shoot him.”
“Awesome,” Alec croaked. “Nothing like a little bloodshed in the workplace.”
“’S what I always say,” Dean shrugged, then flashed him a grin.
Sam finally set him down, and Alec felt cold everywhere his body had touched the youngest Winchester. Speaking of which… “You seem awfully cool with me groping your boyfriend,” Alec pointed out, arching an eyebrow at Dean because, yeah, he need a minute to…God, Dean was fucking edible. Did that mean he was edible?
“Yup.” Dean clapped them both on the shoulder and broke their little huddle. “Lets not explore that too deeply, shall we?”
“Extension of himself,” Sam mumbled just low enough for Alec to hear as they followed Dean towards the entrance, Alec trying to subtly adjust himself in his pants and not grope Sam’s ass (which might still be stinging from the smack Dean’d given it, oh fuck). “Can’t freak out if he’s the one doing it.”
“Whoa,” Max blurted, stopping them before they reached the door, pale and wide-eyed. “Ben?”
“Dean,” he corrected a little sharply, nearly backing into Sam like the mere thought of accidentally touching some random hot girl would throw his brother into a jealous rage. Alec and Sam exchanged glances. Sam grinned.
“Dean?” she repeated, stunned, torn between the faces of the Winchesters. “But-the kid’s name is Dean.”
Sam’s jaw clenched to hold in a snort, so Alec was left to fumble out an answer. “Y…you’re kidding.”
“No. Guy just moved here from the boonies-some place called Star’s Hollow?”
Wide-eyed looks all around. “Never heard of it,” all three chorused, then Dean and Alec cleared their throats and shuffled uncomfortably. Awkward enough they were practically carbon copies...
“You’re really not X-5?” Max demanded, trying to stare Dean down from where she barely reached his clavicle.
“I have no-”
“He is,” Alec assured quickly, hands descending on Dean’s arms to guide him towards the door…and it was really pathetic to do some cursory groping of his biceps while he was at it but Who Cares. “Mortar shell to the head. All memory-pfft! Gone. Like the wind. Aren’t you supposed to be AWOL, anyway?”
“Yeah, just came by to pick up a few things,” she spun out, words fast and preoccupied, “What-"
Alec let his canines show. “Get your own pet project, Max, he’s mine.”
“And the freaky Dean-double’s!” she called after their receding backs.
“This is too fucking weird,” Dean snapped the instant they made the one-block mark. “You’re the freaky Dean-double!”
“Your mom’s the freaky Dean-double,” Alec grumbled under his breath.
“Your face!”
“Your face’s face!”
“You’re both two, just thought you should know,” Sam drawled, hands tucked into his pockets. Alec was struck again by the sheer lack of layers Sam was sporting-only two shirts and no coat-while Dean was carrying at least one extra weapon at the small of his back. He didn’t think they even noticed how stupidly in love they were, which was simultaneously slightly nauseating and…kind of mind-meltingly hot.
“You’ve ruined me for life,” Alec announced suddenly, jabbing Sam in the chest with two knuckles a lot more vehemently than he’d ever meant to, “F-Y-fucking-I.”
Sam flinched and rubbed his chest. Dean threw his head back and laughed, lightly punched Sam’s shoulder as he crowed, “Told you so!”
“Well, then, we’re very lucky there’s apparently two of me,” Sam growled, shooting Dean a glare.
“If he’s not a shapeshifter.”
“Riiiight,” Alec drawled. “What the fuck’s a shapeshifter?”
“Well,” Dean said slowly, like he was talking to a mentally handicapped three-year-old, “it’s this…thing…that…shifts…shape.”
“No shit.” Alec let his mocking wonder make up for the lack of interest on his face. “I meant, what the fuck’s it do?”
“It…changes…sh-”
Sam elbowed him, sharp enough to shut him up. “The only ones we’ve come across were killing people. Though, theoretically, I guess they could just live like regular people in some random person’s shape until that person died. They have to have a connection with a living being,” he explained just for Alec.
Alec thought about jestingly suggesting they kill Sam and find out if that severed the connection, but then he remembered Dean’s extra knife and chose life.
“You think that’s what this guy is?” Dean asked incredulously, “Some shifter that hasn’t started using his powers for evil?”
“I don’t know, Dean, it’s a possibility.”
“So, what?” Alec cut in, “You think I’m a shifter too?”
Both Winchesters turned to look at him with nearly mirror expressions of “Huh?”
“Dean and I look like identical twins, but neither of us has any inclination to morph, right? So what if this kid’s just…accidentally Sam’s double. It’s happened once before.” He gestured emphatically to himself and Dean.
“That’d…be a really weird coincidence,” Sam forced out.
“Yes, well, you managed to find an exact double of your brother to fuck in your second week away from home-weird shit happens!”
“Alec, whoa.” Sam’s hands descended on his shoulders, and Alec’s traitorous body relaxed instantly, the fucker, swaying just a little bit on his feet because he hadn’t realized just how tightly wound he’d been. Or how quick his breathing had gotten. Sam had the power to calm him down from a near panic attack. That didn’t seem entirely fair.
And out came the puppy dog eyes. “Hey,” Sam murmured, ducking down to look him in the eye. “Alec, I didn’t… What’s wrong?”
“I...you…” Alec’s mouth worked a couple more syllables, then gave up with a groan. He burried his face in his hands. “I have to tell you something. Both of you. And-" He growled, throat automatically clenching around words it didn’t want to say, but his hands dropped helplessly to his side. “You’re gonna think I’m a freak.”
“I already think you’re a freak,” Sam said after a moment, almost distractedly, exchanging glances with Dean. “We don’t have anywhere to be…”
“Right.” Dean clapped his hands together, like that was that. “Food. It’s lunchtime somewhere, right? I’m starving.”
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk, at least,” Sam added with another pointed glance.
Alec straightened under Sam’s hands, trying not to feel left out by their silent exchange. “Ever been on top of the space needle?”
“Um, hell no,” Dean vetoed emphatically. “There’s rats the size of your head. And enormous paintings of clowns,” he added with a pointed glare at Sam when he started laughing. Which only cut off when Alec added, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
Sam choked, and Dean laughed, and Alec felt just a little bit lighter overall.
“Right then,” he decided, “Persephone’s.”
PART TWO