Word Count: 1821
Summary: Having your heart stolen can be the worst theft of all.
A/N: As part of my 12 Days prompts, this one is for firesign10’s prompt of “Stolen Goods.” She graciously picked another prompt when her first one dried up.
“God damn it, Dean!” Sam found himself saying those words more often the longer they were stuck in this hellhole town that their dad had dumped them in.
There was nothing to do; it was summer and Sam didn’t even have school to distract him. It didn’t matter to Dean– he’d dropped out as soon as he legally could to go hunting with Dad.
This time though, he’d been left behind while John and Rufus went on a hunt for a Tulpa, which didn’t sit well with Dean at all. For the first three days, he’d done nothing but bitch to Sam about how he should have been able to go on the hunt.
Finally Sam had tossed a pillow at him and told him to shut up or he was locking him out of the hotel room.
“But I’m bored, Sammy!” Dean had whined, flopping on the bed. “There’s nothing to do here.”
Sam had sighed and turned the page of the book he was reading. “Watch TV.”
“Nothing’s on.” Dean had huffed. “Hey, can I borrow your laptop?”
“Why not?” Dean then rolled over onto his side and tugged at Sam’s leg. “Please Sammy?”
Sam had looked at his brother. Dean had been making his version of puppy dog eyes, which never worked as well as when Sam did it. Or so Sam had always led Dean to believe. The truth was that Dean could ask for anything and Sam would be hard pressed not to give it to him.
That was the trouble when you were in love with your brother.
Sam had sighed again and steeled himself against the wide green eyes. “Because the last time you used my laptop you downloaded a virus from BustyAsianBeauties.com and froze it! It took me a week to clean it up and I almost failed my English class.”
“Okay, no porn, I promise.” Dean had pouted a bit – with his lips, he did that incredibly better than Sam. “I’ll just play one of the games you have loaded on it.” Dean had scooted closer and batted his eyelashes with a grin. “Please?”
“Fine.” Sam had shut his book and had grabbed his laptop from the bag by the side of the bed. “Play Baldur’s Gate. You’ll like that one.”
He’d set it up for Dean – walking him through the options of class, race, alignment, etc. - and for a good two hours there had been silence except for Dean’s softly muttered oaths every time his character was attacked.
That, of course, didn’t last past Dean’s attention span.
Which was why Sam found himself playing lookout as Dean tried to charm the blonde cashier at the convenience store. According to Dean, her boyfriend was a bouncer at the local bar and was apt to show up at her place of work unannounced.
“So, there’s a party tonight, huh?” Dean asked her. “Close by?”
“Yeah. About 3 miles down the road,” she answered. “White house – kind of set back in the trees.” Sam frowned as she skated a hand down Dean’s chest. He knew it was wrong, but he always felt jealous whenever someone touched Dean like that. “You gonna come?”
“Your boyfriend gonna be there?” Dean replied.
“Nope. He has to work,” she simpered as Dean smiled at her.
Sam huffed and headed over to the magazine rack. He still had a good view of the parking lot but he didn’t want to listen to Dean and the girl coo at each other anymore.
The rack held a bunch of porn – Dean’s favorite was there – but Sam picked up a copy of Time and flipped the pages. He glanced up at Dean just in time to see him place a quick kiss on the girl’s cheek.
Sam thought he was going to vomit when she giggled.
Dean disappeared down one of the aisles for a moment, then reappeared next to Sam. “Ready to go?”
“Past.” Sam slid the magazine back into the rack and followed Dean towards the door. Just as they were about to exit, the door flew open and a large man entered, pushing Dean out of the way.
Dean was about to say something when the man picked up the cashier and hugged her. Wide-eyed, she pointed to his back and mouthed ‘It’s him’ to Dean.
Dean hustled them out of the store, turning to Sam with a grin. “Man, that was close.”
“Yeah.” Sam headed towards their motel across the street. “So what’d you steal this time?”
His grin even wider, Dean dug a box out of his pocket. “Condoms. Never know when you might need ‘em.”
Sam just shook his head. He didn’t want to think about what Dean would be doing with said condoms.
They got to the motel room door and Sam unlocked it. He tossed the key on the dresser and flopped down on the bed.
“So – what now?” Dean was like an over-sugared toddler and it made Sam tired.
“I’m gonna take a nap.” Anything to block out his brother for a bit so he could get his bearings. Sam rolled over and closed his eyes. He heard Dean settle on the other bed and turn on the television.
With the soft sounds of Good Eats playing in the background, Sam thought about Dean.
He couldn’t pick a time when he wasn’t in love with his brother. Dean was everything – mom, dad, protector, friend. But recently those feelings changed; became deeper.
Sam knew he was screwed the night he woke up, his boxers sticky with come, Dean’s name on his lips. Somehow he was able to sneak into the bathroom and wash off, trading his soiled underwear for a clean pair.
Things just progressed from there. Dean’s smile, his laugh, the fact that he wandered around the hotel room in his boxer briefs – it all added up to full blown love.
And sometimes Sam was dead certain that Dean knew about his sick obsession. There were side glances, comments about girls – or the lack of them – in Sam’s life, talk of Dean’s conquests no matter how much Sam didn’t want to hear about them. They all added up in Sam’s mind to the fact that Dean knew and was disgusted with him.
Sam shifted on the bed, trying to block out Dean’ low chuckle at Alton Brown’s comment about steak. He drifted off to the sounds of sizzling sirloin and his brother’s quiet laughter.
The party was in full swing when they arrived. Music and bodies were spilling out of the front door and onto the porch and front lawn.
Sam watched Dean square his shoulders with a grin and wade into the chaos. Sam stayed on the porch, keeping company with a pothead and two drunk girls making out on the side swing.
Sometime later, Dean came back with two bottles, handing one off to Sam. “So – great party, huh?”
Sam gave his brother a look. “Dean, we haven’t even been here two hours yet.”
“Yeah, but there’s beer and chicks.” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “The field’s ripe for the picking.”
Sam sighed and took a drink. Dean seemed to be in rare form tonight, going on about the town girls and how Sam needed to find one too and get some action as they had walked toward the house. “You go right ahead.”
“Aww, Sammy…” Dean’s voice was husky, its tone both annoying Sam and turning him on at the same time. “You mean you’re not gonna find a cute young thing and take her behind the barn?”
“No.” Sam knew he was being short but he really didn’t feel like playing Dean’s game tonight. He finished his beer and was about to toss the bottle in a nearby trashcan when he felt Dean press against his back.
“Don’t be like that.” The growl in Dean’s voice was electrifying and Sam couldn’t help but shiver at the hand Dean had wrapped around his bicep. “You need to relax, Sam. Find a girl… or a boy… and unwind.”
Sam did the only thing he could think of. He squirmed out of Dean’s grasp, whirling around to face his brother. “Dude, you’re drunk. Go find that girl from the convenience store and fuck her already so we can go home.”
Dean looked at Sam and licked his lips. Like he wanted to taste Sam. Slowly he leaned in, his breath smelling faintly of beer, the moisture ghosting past Sam’s cheek. “What if I don’t want to fuck her? What if I want to fuck-”
Dean’s sentence was cut off by a high-pitched squeal and someone shoving Sam out of the way.
“Dean! You made it!” The girl from the convenience store threw herself at Dean, wrapping her body around his. “Come on, I want you to meet my friends!” She dragged Dean into the house, leaving Sam alone on the doorstep.
Sam reached out to grab Dean’s jacket, but it slipped through his fingers. Just like Dean’s last words.
Fuck who? Who, Dean? Sam needed to know. The look in Dean’s eyes was raw, naked – wanting. Wanting Sam?
He shoved his way past the people in the entranceway, his eyes frantically scanning for Dean. The music was loud and the mix of perfume, sweat and smoke made him gag.
“Dean!” he shouted, pushing through the throng of people standing by the beer keg. “Dean!”
He found Dean on the staircase, the convenience store girl leading him up to the second floor. In her other hand Sam could see the condoms that Dean had stolen earlier that day.
His brother paused and turned to look at him. Dean’s gaze cut through the smoke and the sound and locked onto Sam.
It was like looking into a kaleidoscope. Love, lust, regret, want – it all swirled in a mosaic behind his brother’s green eyes.
Then the wall came down and it was like Sam hadn’t seen any of it.
Dean turned and followed the girl, disappearing into the shadows.
Sam didn’t know how he managed to make it out of the house and onto the front lawn. His feet took him to the oak tree by the road and he collapsed against it, tears and snot running down his face. He wiped them away with his palms and his shirtsleeves, his breath shuddering as he looked up into the night sky.
He was right. Dean knew how Sam felt about him. He breathed deep, hiccupping, and stood up. Slowly he began walking back to the motel, his stride getting longer ‘til he was almost running.
Once inside, he stripped down and slipped under the covers, curling into a tight ball.
Whatever Dean was feeling – felt – for Sam, it wasn’t enough for him to follow through with it. It wouldn’t ever be enough.
With a quiet sob, Sam wrapped his arms around himself and began filling the hole where his heart had been.