Supernatural fic: The Weirdest Place
Title: The Weirdest Place
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:
rospberry
Characters/Pairing: Dean, Sam, mention of Dean/OFC and Sam/OMC
Rating: R (probably being over-cautious but...)
Summary: Dean's bored, and when Dean's bored he can ask the most awkward questions. And maybe this time, the answer isn't quite what he expected to hear. Post AHBL.
Warnings: Mention of Het, Slash, Under-age sex
Author's Notes: Huge thanks to my beta
mayalaen .
Oh, and there MIGHT be a backstory to this at some point.
Dean lay back on the ratty pillows and watched his little brother through half-lidded eyes.
Sam's large frame was hunched awkwardly over the motel room's tiny table, his long fingers tapping furiously on the keys of his laptop, only pausing every now and then to scribble in his note book. He'd been at it all day, and Dean was bored.
He yawned loudly and flung his arms out to the side, stretching them wide and deliberately letting out a groan of satisfaction. Sam showed no sign of having noticed. Frowning, Dean folded his arms across his chest and stared, willing Sam to show some spark of interest, but his little brother studiously tapped away, completely ignoring the elder Winchester.
Looking around for something to throw, Dean saw some sheets of motel room paper lying on the bedside table and he unfolded his arms carefully so as not to draw attention to himself. He picked up a sheet, crumpled it into a tight ball, and threw it forcefully at his little brother's head.
Sam's hand shot up in the air and caught the incoming missile, tossing it into the wastepaper bin at his feet. He didn't even look up.
Dean's eyes narrowed and he reached over to grab another sheet of paper, pausing when he heard the sharp words, "Throw that and I swear you'll regret it."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean scoffed, his hand poised over the paper. "What you gonna do?"
"Get another room."
A little frown line appeared on Dean's forehead and he slumped back against the pillows, defeated. "Talk to me, man."
Sam's eyes flicked up briefly. "What? What about?"
Dean shrugged. "Anything. What you're researching, cars, girls..." A thought occurred to him and he brightened. "I've got a question for you. Where's the weirdest place you ever... y'know...?"
He didn't need to see Sam's face properly to know he'd rolled his eyes. "I'm busy, Dean. Go away."
"Aw, c'mon, man, I'm bored. Humor me."
"Watch TV," Sam said dismissively. "Or read a book. They're the ones without the pictures," he said, pointing to a battered paperback lying at the side of his bed.
Dean ignored him. "Hey, I get it if you're embarrassed."
"I'm not embarrassed," Sam said, finally raising his head fully, his expression irritated. "Just trying to work. Hunting, remember? It's what we do."
"Yeah, right, 'cause I'm not supposed to know you're looking up ways to break a deal with a demon."
Sam dropped his hands from the keyboard. "Dean, I'm not...," he faltered, not wanting to outright lie to his brother.
"Whatever, man. I don't care what you're doing. Just talk to me." He pointed a finger accusingly. "You're the one who always says I don't talk enough."
"Fine." The tapping sound resumed, and Sam dropped his gaze back to the screen. "But I'm not talking about that."
Dean rubbed at his nose with the side of his hand, considering the dipped head of his little brother. Any hopes Sam might have had that Dean would drop the subject were quickly dashed when he spoke again.
"I'll go first," he said, clearing his throat. "My weirdest time was with Shirley - no, Susan - no," he frowned, "it was Shirley. Shirley Bridges. We were staying in Fairfield at the time, and I think I was in ninth grade. Remember?"
The fingers stilled again and Sam lifted his head to stare at Dean incredulously. "Dude, you were fifteen."
"Fourteen, actually," Dean said, grinning.
"Fourteen?"
"What - are you a parrot now? Yeah, fourteen."
Sam shook his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered.
Taking it as a compliment, his older brother nodded. "Yeah, so anyway, we were on the-"
"Hang on," Sam interrupted him again. "Shirley Bridges? You mean Nurse Bridges?"
His answer was an acknowledging incline of the head and a cocky smile.
"But she was the school nurse. She was a woman."
"Damn right she was. So?"
"So?" Sam stared at him. "Dude, that's just wrong."
"Jealous?"
"Hell, no. That's... She shouldn't..."
"Get a grip, man. She was only twenty, and it's not like I wasn't willing."
"But, still..."
"You really need to lighten up, dude. I'm trying to tell you the story." At the pained expression on Sam's face, Dean groaned. "Imagine that she was fifteen or something. Does that make it better?"
"No."
Dean sucked air through his teeth and decided to ignore his little brother's disapproval. "Anyway, we were on the desk in the front office, and we thought no one was there. It was after detention y'see." Sam was gaping, but he pretended he didn't notice it. "So there we were, busy, and all of a sudden there were voices coming along the corridor. Turns out there was a game on and everyone was passing through.
"There was no time to try and find all her clothes, so we did the only thing we could, and hid behind the gate. The bit where people go in and out," Dean explained. "With the flap you lift up to go through?"
"Yeah, I know the bit you mean," Sam said in a strangled voice, keen for the tale to end.
"So, I'm there, she's squashed on top of me, and we can hear all these kids streaming past, like, inches from us. And it kinda got her going..."
"Enough," Sam said, raising a hand. "I get it."
"So did she," Dean said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're sick."
"I try," Dean replied. "So?" He looked at Sam expectantly.
"What?" Sam frowned.
"What about you?"
"No way." Sam shook his head. "I told you, I'm not playing this game."
"Oh, come on, spill." A flash of teeth. "Or have you only ever done it in a bed. Lights off. Missionary posi-"
"Back off," Sam snapped, glaring.
"You sure, Sammy? There's no shame in that. It's kind of sweet actually."
"Dean," Sam warned, "shut the fuck up. You don't know everything about me." Sam's face was flushed with anger.
Sitting straighter in the bed, Dean's interest was piqued. "Really? So tell me then. What did you do? Where did you do it?"
"It's none of your business."
"'Course it is. It's in the big brother rule book: 'Little brothers don't get to have secrets'," Dean said. "And you know I'll get it out of you eventually, so you might as well..."
"God, give me strength," Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. "If I tell you, will you shut up?"
"Maybe."
"Dean..."
A half-shrug. "If it's worth it."
"Fine," Sam said under his breath, and then said it again, louder. "Fine. It was in a zoo. In a tiger enclosure."
Dean didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. "A zoo?" he repeated.
"Yeah." Sam's face was scarlet now, and not from anger.
"How the hell did you manage that? In the tiger enclosure?" Dean asked. His eyes widened as he considered it. "Were the tigers there?"
"No, of course not," Sam said, resigning himself to sharing a little more information. "There was only one tiger there at the time, and she was sick. They had her in the back lot where the vet could treat her without everyone seeing."
"So you...? In the empty cage?"
"Yeah. Well, in the inner enclosure, but yeah."
"I'm impressed, man. Seriously."
Sam bit back the laugh that bubbled in his throat. If his brother was impressed by that, he would be completely floored if he could see the memories racing through his head. Left alone in the enclosure, trapped by a securely locked door and murmured promises of more; naked and sticky, pacing naked back and forth in front of a tinted viewing wall, knowing he was being watched and revelling in it. Performing-
He blinked, suddenly aware his brother had spoken and he hadn't heard what he'd said. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if she worked there?"
"Who?"
"The chick you were with? Was she a keeper or something?"
Sam placed his hands on the table and half-rising from the seat, turned his head in the direction of the bathroom. "A keeper, yeah," he agreed. "Look, I really need to go-"
"Was she hot?" Dean wasn't going to let the subject drop. He could sense there was something his brother wasn't telling him.
Sam stilled mid-movement and dropped his head, his face obscured by his scruffy hair. There was a long moment when Dean thought he was just going to ignore the question, but then Sam's tense shoulders dropped and he let out a breath, slumping back down into the chair. "He," he said, slowly, "was very hot."
It took a lot to render Dean Winchester speechless, but as he stared at his brother's down-turned head, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
Suspicious of the silence, Sam lifted his head and met Dean's gaze with stark challenge in his eyes, and a certain amount of fear.
Trying to scramble his thoughts together, Dean could only repeat Sam's words. "He?"
Sam nodded once, his unblinking stare disconcerting.
"O-okay," Dean tried, rubbing a finger over his bottom lip. "That's... er... I don't know what to say, Sammy. You've thrown me here."
Sam's lips lifted into a hesitant grin. "Well, that's a first."
"My little brother. With a guy. Huh." Dean shook his head. "Didn't see that one coming."
Sam gave a little shrug. "Sorry," he offered, although what he was sorry for, he wasn't quite sure. He could see Dean was thinking about it, his brows furrowing in confusion, and so he wasn't entirely surprised with his brother's next question.
"You gay?" Dean asked bluntly.
"No."
"So why...?"
"He was nice," Sam said softly. "And I was lonely."
Dean’s lower lip jutted out and he tilted his head a little, accepting Sam's explanation with an unconscious nod of the head. "Makes sense." He let out a little chuckle. "Hell, dude, way to mess with my head."
Sam smiled then. "Well, you started it."
"Hey, don't remind me." Dean's expression was pained. "If I'd known it was gonna bring up this amount of sharing, I would've kept my mouth shut."
Sam's toothy grin mocked him. "So," his little brother asked after a moment, "have you ever...?"
Dean shook his head. "Too many chicks to get through. If they stopped throwing themselves at me then maybe..." He grinned cheekily and added as a challenge, "And I've never been that desperate."
Sam flicked his middle finger in Dean's direction, and Dean laughed.
They fell into a not uncomfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't something Sam had ever been prepared to share with Dean; not that he'd thought Dean would have disapproved, but he'd certainly expected a lot more ridicule that he'd got. Instead, he was aware his brother was eyeing him with a certain amount of newfound respect, and something else he couldn't quite place...
"So what's it like?" Dean said abruptly, and Sam frowned.
"What's what like?"
Dean had a strange, pained expression that Sam was shocked to realize was embarrassment. His brother - the self-proclaimed Sex God - was embarrassed.
"What's it like being with a man?" Dean clarified, with a slight flush to his cheeks.
The question, and Dean's obvious discomfort, threw Sam, and he fumbled for a response. "It's... I don't know. Why are you asking?"
"Just curious." Dean chewed his bottom lip. "Is it better than with a woman?" he finally asked.
This one Sam could answer. "Not better, different."
"Different how?"
Sam's patience ran out. "For God's sake, Dean, if you're that interested why don't you go and find out?"
Dean stared blankly at him for several moments, and then with a burst of motion, swung his legs off the bed and reached down to pull his boots on. "I'm going out," he said, standing and taking the few steps across the room to grab his jacket off the back of the chair. He shrugged it on. "Don't wait up."
Sam knew his he was gaping like a goldfish and he snapped his mouth shut abruptly. "You're not going to...?"
Dean looked back over his shoulder looking intensely serious. "There's no way in hell that I'm letting my little brother know more about sex than I do," he stated. "That's just all sorts of wrong."
And with those parting words, he left the room, leaving Sam staring open-mouthed at the closed motel room door.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author:
rospberry
Characters/Pairing: Dean, Sam, mention of Dean/OFC and Sam/OMC
Rating: R (probably being over-cautious but...)
Summary: Dean's bored, and when Dean's bored he can ask the most awkward questions. And maybe this time, the answer isn't quite what he expected to hear. Post AHBL.
Warnings: Mention of Het, Slash, Under-age sex
Author's Notes: Huge thanks to my beta
mayalaen .
Oh, and there MIGHT be a backstory to this at some point.
Dean lay back on the ratty pillows and watched his little brother through half-lidded eyes.
Sam's large frame was hunched awkwardly over the motel room's tiny table, his long fingers tapping furiously on the keys of his laptop, only pausing every now and then to scribble in his note book. He'd been at it all day, and Dean was bored.
He yawned loudly and flung his arms out to the side, stretching them wide and deliberately letting out a groan of satisfaction. Sam showed no sign of having noticed. Frowning, Dean folded his arms across his chest and stared, willing Sam to show some spark of interest, but his little brother studiously tapped away, completely ignoring the elder Winchester.
Looking around for something to throw, Dean saw some sheets of motel room paper lying on the bedside table and he unfolded his arms carefully so as not to draw attention to himself. He picked up a sheet, crumpled it into a tight ball, and threw it forcefully at his little brother's head.
Sam's hand shot up in the air and caught the incoming missile, tossing it into the wastepaper bin at his feet. He didn't even look up.
Dean's eyes narrowed and he reached over to grab another sheet of paper, pausing when he heard the sharp words, "Throw that and I swear you'll regret it."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean scoffed, his hand poised over the paper. "What you gonna do?"
"Get another room."
A little frown line appeared on Dean's forehead and he slumped back against the pillows, defeated. "Talk to me, man."
Sam's eyes flicked up briefly. "What? What about?"
Dean shrugged. "Anything. What you're researching, cars, girls..." A thought occurred to him and he brightened. "I've got a question for you. Where's the weirdest place you ever... y'know...?"
He didn't need to see Sam's face properly to know he'd rolled his eyes. "I'm busy, Dean. Go away."
"Aw, c'mon, man, I'm bored. Humor me."
"Watch TV," Sam said dismissively. "Or read a book. They're the ones without the pictures," he said, pointing to a battered paperback lying at the side of his bed.
Dean ignored him. "Hey, I get it if you're embarrassed."
"I'm not embarrassed," Sam said, finally raising his head fully, his expression irritated. "Just trying to work. Hunting, remember? It's what we do."
"Yeah, right, 'cause I'm not supposed to know you're looking up ways to break a deal with a demon."
Sam dropped his hands from the keyboard. "Dean, I'm not...," he faltered, not wanting to outright lie to his brother.
"Whatever, man. I don't care what you're doing. Just talk to me." He pointed a finger accusingly. "You're the one who always says I don't talk enough."
"Fine." The tapping sound resumed, and Sam dropped his gaze back to the screen. "But I'm not talking about that."
Dean rubbed at his nose with the side of his hand, considering the dipped head of his little brother. Any hopes Sam might have had that Dean would drop the subject were quickly dashed when he spoke again.
"I'll go first," he said, clearing his throat. "My weirdest time was with Shirley - no, Susan - no," he frowned, "it was Shirley. Shirley Bridges. We were staying in Fairfield at the time, and I think I was in ninth grade. Remember?"
The fingers stilled again and Sam lifted his head to stare at Dean incredulously. "Dude, you were fifteen."
"Fourteen, actually," Dean said, grinning.
"Fourteen?"
"What - are you a parrot now? Yeah, fourteen."
Sam shook his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered.
Taking it as a compliment, his older brother nodded. "Yeah, so anyway, we were on the-"
"Hang on," Sam interrupted him again. "Shirley Bridges? You mean Nurse Bridges?"
His answer was an acknowledging incline of the head and a cocky smile.
"But she was the school nurse. She was a woman."
"Damn right she was. So?"
"So?" Sam stared at him. "Dude, that's just wrong."
"Jealous?"
"Hell, no. That's... She shouldn't..."
"Get a grip, man. She was only twenty, and it's not like I wasn't willing."
"But, still..."
"You really need to lighten up, dude. I'm trying to tell you the story." At the pained expression on Sam's face, Dean groaned. "Imagine that she was fifteen or something. Does that make it better?"
"No."
Dean sucked air through his teeth and decided to ignore his little brother's disapproval. "Anyway, we were on the desk in the front office, and we thought no one was there. It was after detention y'see." Sam was gaping, but he pretended he didn't notice it. "So there we were, busy, and all of a sudden there were voices coming along the corridor. Turns out there was a game on and everyone was passing through.
"There was no time to try and find all her clothes, so we did the only thing we could, and hid behind the gate. The bit where people go in and out," Dean explained. "With the flap you lift up to go through?"
"Yeah, I know the bit you mean," Sam said in a strangled voice, keen for the tale to end.
"So, I'm there, she's squashed on top of me, and we can hear all these kids streaming past, like, inches from us. And it kinda got her going..."
"Enough," Sam said, raising a hand. "I get it."
"So did she," Dean said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're sick."
"I try," Dean replied. "So?" He looked at Sam expectantly.
"What?" Sam frowned.
"What about you?"
"No way." Sam shook his head. "I told you, I'm not playing this game."
"Oh, come on, spill." A flash of teeth. "Or have you only ever done it in a bed. Lights off. Missionary posi-"
"Back off," Sam snapped, glaring.
"You sure, Sammy? There's no shame in that. It's kind of sweet actually."
"Dean," Sam warned, "shut the fuck up. You don't know everything about me." Sam's face was flushed with anger.
Sitting straighter in the bed, Dean's interest was piqued. "Really? So tell me then. What did you do? Where did you do it?"
"It's none of your business."
"'Course it is. It's in the big brother rule book: 'Little brothers don't get to have secrets'," Dean said. "And you know I'll get it out of you eventually, so you might as well..."
"God, give me strength," Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. "If I tell you, will you shut up?"
"Maybe."
"Dean..."
A half-shrug. "If it's worth it."
"Fine," Sam said under his breath, and then said it again, louder. "Fine. It was in a zoo. In a tiger enclosure."
Dean didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. "A zoo?" he repeated.
"Yeah." Sam's face was scarlet now, and not from anger.
"How the hell did you manage that? In the tiger enclosure?" Dean asked. His eyes widened as he considered it. "Were the tigers there?"
"No, of course not," Sam said, resigning himself to sharing a little more information. "There was only one tiger there at the time, and she was sick. They had her in the back lot where the vet could treat her without everyone seeing."
"So you...? In the empty cage?"
"Yeah. Well, in the inner enclosure, but yeah."
"I'm impressed, man. Seriously."
Sam bit back the laugh that bubbled in his throat. If his brother was impressed by that, he would be completely floored if he could see the memories racing through his head. Left alone in the enclosure, trapped by a securely locked door and murmured promises of more; naked and sticky, pacing naked back and forth in front of a tinted viewing wall, knowing he was being watched and revelling in it. Performing-
He blinked, suddenly aware his brother had spoken and he hadn't heard what he'd said. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if she worked there?"
"Who?"
"The chick you were with? Was she a keeper or something?"
Sam placed his hands on the table and half-rising from the seat, turned his head in the direction of the bathroom. "A keeper, yeah," he agreed. "Look, I really need to go-"
"Was she hot?" Dean wasn't going to let the subject drop. He could sense there was something his brother wasn't telling him.
Sam stilled mid-movement and dropped his head, his face obscured by his scruffy hair. There was a long moment when Dean thought he was just going to ignore the question, but then Sam's tense shoulders dropped and he let out a breath, slumping back down into the chair. "He," he said, slowly, "was very hot."
It took a lot to render Dean Winchester speechless, but as he stared at his brother's down-turned head, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
Suspicious of the silence, Sam lifted his head and met Dean's gaze with stark challenge in his eyes, and a certain amount of fear.
Trying to scramble his thoughts together, Dean could only repeat Sam's words. "He?"
Sam nodded once, his unblinking stare disconcerting.
"O-okay," Dean tried, rubbing a finger over his bottom lip. "That's... er... I don't know what to say, Sammy. You've thrown me here."
Sam's lips lifted into a hesitant grin. "Well, that's a first."
"My little brother. With a guy. Huh." Dean shook his head. "Didn't see that one coming."
Sam gave a little shrug. "Sorry," he offered, although what he was sorry for, he wasn't quite sure. He could see Dean was thinking about it, his brows furrowing in confusion, and so he wasn't entirely surprised with his brother's next question.
"You gay?" Dean asked bluntly.
"No."
"So why...?"
"He was nice," Sam said softly. "And I was lonely."
Dean’s lower lip jutted out and he tilted his head a little, accepting Sam's explanation with an unconscious nod of the head. "Makes sense." He let out a little chuckle. "Hell, dude, way to mess with my head."
Sam smiled then. "Well, you started it."
"Hey, don't remind me." Dean's expression was pained. "If I'd known it was gonna bring up this amount of sharing, I would've kept my mouth shut."
Sam's toothy grin mocked him. "So," his little brother asked after a moment, "have you ever...?"
Dean shook his head. "Too many chicks to get through. If they stopped throwing themselves at me then maybe..." He grinned cheekily and added as a challenge, "And I've never been that desperate."
Sam flicked his middle finger in Dean's direction, and Dean laughed.
They fell into a not uncomfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't something Sam had ever been prepared to share with Dean; not that he'd thought Dean would have disapproved, but he'd certainly expected a lot more ridicule that he'd got. Instead, he was aware his brother was eyeing him with a certain amount of newfound respect, and something else he couldn't quite place...
"So what's it like?" Dean said abruptly, and Sam frowned.
"What's what like?"
Dean had a strange, pained expression that Sam was shocked to realize was embarrassment. His brother - the self-proclaimed Sex God - was embarrassed.
"What's it like being with a man?" Dean clarified, with a slight flush to his cheeks.
The question, and Dean's obvious discomfort, threw Sam, and he fumbled for a response. "It's... I don't know. Why are you asking?"
"Just curious." Dean chewed his bottom lip. "Is it better than with a woman?" he finally asked.
This one Sam could answer. "Not better, different."
"Different how?"
Sam's patience ran out. "For God's sake, Dean, if you're that interested why don't you go and find out?"
Dean stared blankly at him for several moments, and then with a burst of motion, swung his legs off the bed and reached down to pull his boots on. "I'm going out," he said, standing and taking the few steps across the room to grab his jacket off the back of the chair. He shrugged it on. "Don't wait up."
Sam knew his he was gaping like a goldfish and he snapped his mouth shut abruptly. "You're not going to...?"
Dean looked back over his shoulder looking intensely serious. "There's no way in hell that I'm letting my little brother know more about sex than I do," he stated. "That's just all sorts of wrong."
And with those parting words, he left the room, leaving Sam staring open-mouthed at the closed motel room door.