Supernatural Oneshots

Eight-> Sam's Secret

Dean scoffed at the lilac-scented shampoo settled on the shower ledge. He reached for his own, the manly scent of deep woods, thank you very much, and popped the lid up. He lathered it in his hair before stepping back under the spray of the shower head. The water ran down the top of his head, streaming down his back in warm rivulets. He shook his hair out one last time, then turned the water off completely. Dean toweled off and defogged the cheap motel mirror as he proceeded to get dressed. With a small, content smile, he exited the bathroom, steam billowing out eagerly through the open door. Sam, from the couch, rolled his eyes. His brother gave him shit for being 'girly' when he was the one who primped and pampered. Although the jives were mostly good-hearted, Sam couldn't help but blush lately. He knew what he was, and he didn't need his brother, Mr. Macho, to know about it. He quickly replaced the magazine he'd been reading with a more masculine book, something about building a log house, he didn't know. Dean strolled past him into the kitchen, whistling as he pulled a pan out of the understocked cupboard. Sam heard him scoff.

"Sam, I know you need to watch your figure, but I need warrior food!" He called out. Especially at sixteen, Dean wanted something to sink his teeth into. And romaine lettuce was not what he had in mind.

Sam rolled his eyes once again. "The cholesterol's in the fridge." He said over his shoulder.

Dean opened the refrigerator, letting out a victorious laugh as he pulled out the processed patties of red meat. "You're just bitchy because you miss the taste of meat."

Sam's heart stopped for a second, before he realized Dean meant the hamburgers. He played it cool, even though he was sweating slightly.

Dean waited for the burger to brown up before flipping it. He turned back to the fridge for some Kraft singles, pulling two from the pack and laying them on the burger, setting a lid over the pan so they would melt. "Seriously, Sammy," he chided from the stove, "I would think a girl eats burgers at least once a month."

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Whatever, Dean. I'm not gonna have a heart attack at thirty."

"Neither am I. I'll die it with a gun in my hand." Dean grinned. He turned off the burner and sat down on the couch beside Sam. He settled hard into the cushion, causing Sam to lose his grip on the wood cabin magazine. It fell to the side, traitorously revealing the Abercrombie & Fitch he'd been enjoying while Dean was in the shower. Dean picked the log cabin guide off the floor, handing it to Sam. He stopped when he saw the thing his little brother had really been reading.

He looked up at Sam's face of cold terror with a shit-eating grin. "My, my, Sammy, you got something to tell me?"

Sam's whole face burned as he snatched the stupid wood house magazine from his brother. "Shut up."

"You gay or something?" Dean continued with the same teasing tone. Sam folded his arms.

"So what if I am?" He muttered to the back of the couch.

Dean's burger stopped on its way to his mouth. "Sammy?"

"Just drop it." Sam growled.

Dean shook his head. "Are you...?"

Sam huffed, tossing both the articles on the coffee table. "Yeah, I am. I like guys. I know you find it disgusting and you hate me now, but yeah, I'm a great big homo." He narrowed his eyes, moving to leave the room.

Dean was up before him, blocking his path, the plate he'd had on his lap spinning audibly on the table. "Sam-wait!" He said with wide eyes. "Just hang on! What makes you think I hate you?" He demanded.

Sam's eyes had tears in them, stubbornly not moving to see his big brother. "I know how you feel about gay people, Dean. It's not like it's a secret. Dad-"

"I'm not Dad." Dean slowly lowered his arms. "Sam, I don't care if you like guys. It's fine, I'll just make sure your first bar isn't full of chicks." He shrugged.

Sam laughed bitterly, but looked right at Dean. "You don't hate me?" He asked, voice hitching.

Dean shook his head. He brought Sam into a hug, still tall enough so that Sam's head was under his chin. "I don't care. This doesn't change anything I thought of you, you just like guys instead of girls." Sam's arms wrapped around him. "Why did you think I'd hate you? Am I really that hard to come to?"

Sam shrugged uncertainly. "I just... I hear how you talk about gay people in movies and how Dad used to, like, get so angry. I can remember a day he turned to me and told me if I was gay he'd kick me out so I didn't influence you."

Dean's arms tightened around his little brother. He'd forgotten about that day. "I'm sorry, Sam. I never meant for you to feel so horrible."

Sam buried his head in Dean's chest, smiling slightly. "It's okay. I'm just glad you don't hate me."

"Never." Dean pulled Sam away to look directly at him. "I will always care about you, Sammy. You're my pain in the neck little brother, it's my job to look after you." He grinned. Sam beamed back.

"I love you, Dean."

Dean smiled down at him. "Love you too, Sammy." He sat back down. "Want to watch some baseball?"

Sam chuckled inwardly. "Sure."