Fic: Vegas Kimon (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 1 of 5

[smalltrolven]

Title: Vegas Kimon

Author: smalltrolven

Artist: emmatheslayer

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Wordcount: 12,858

Author’s Note: Not my characters, only my words. Written for the 2018 deanwbigbang.  Yes, there is actually a cash prize, international RPS tournament. Also, here’s some info on game theory in respect to RPS.

Summary: The Winchester brothers have been playing Rock Paper Scissors against each other for most of their lives, but it’s never meant as much as this. A first-time, Sam finds out how Dean really feels story, set in season 14, against the backdrop of a trip to the World Championship Rock Paper Scissors International Tourney in Las Vegas. They encounter someone out for revenge who turns the vacation into a case.

Check out the awesome Art Masterpost .
Read it over on AO3 right here.

~~**~~

It was finally time. After all these months of researching on the sly, studying until his eyes ached and his laptop’s memory was full. All the saving up money and all the planning, it was time to get Sam on board with the whole plan. It was the World Championship after all, of their favorite game, rock-paper-scissors, and it was happening in Vegas—this weekend.

There was a lot of money to be won, and they were both due—long overdue for a vacation. Sam hadn’t taken a moment for himself in months, supervising all the new hunters. Dean was frankly, quite sick of their home being packed wall to wall with people who looked at him like he didn’t really belong there or worse.

It wasn’t just that Dean was bothered that they called his brother Chief all the freaking time. That was kind of cute actually, and a good thing, Sam being in charge of something finally, like he always was meant to do it. Leading these people was giving him a purpose and Sam needed that to be happy. All that Dean really needed to be something approximating happy—well that was pretty simple really, he just needed Sam.

Thus the trip to Vegas…just the two of them…no tag-a-longs, no checking in with home base, no body-cams, no cases, just a pure vacation. We-time like they hadn’t had since Sam’s arm was in a sling and he still had the Mark of Cain on his arm and a permanent hangover from being a demon.

****

“C’mon, Sammy, we’ve skipped two years in a row for our Vegas week.”

“Dean, it’s July, we swore we’d never ever go there again in July, remember you almost took me to the ER after my hike for dehydration?”

“Just because you have to get all granola-back-to-nature every damn time instead of doing Vegas up right, stay inside in the A/C like all the rest of us casino crawlers.”

“Bleah, that’s not my idea of a good time, which I know that you know, so why are you even asking? What’s this really about?”

“There’sathingIwanttotryandithappens this weekend,” Dean mumbled into the top of his beer bottle, clinking his teeth against the glass. He didn’t want to tell Sam what he’d gone and done.

“Say that again so my lowly mortal ears can hear the actual words, please,” Sam said, smiling that sideways grin that told Dean he was going to get what he wanted if he would just spit it out.

“There’s a tournament, that I signed us up for, and it’s the second weekend of July, like I said. And…uh, I already paid for all of it, so we kinda need to go.”

“What sort of tournament?” Sam asked, making the circling hand ‘go-on’ gesture with the hand that wasn’t holding his beer.

Dean got up from his recliner and stalked over to the bar, fumbling around underneath, taking his time getting another beer from the mini-fridge. He slowly popped the top and took a long gulp, leaning back a little, focusing on one of the awesome beer keg lights hanging from the ceiling. Yeah, he was probably still a little too proud of making those things. “Rock-paper-scissors.”

He heard the clink of Sam’s beer bottle as he set it down on the table between their two recliners. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glow and flash of a screen. Sam’s phone. The bastard was fact-checking him in the moment, instead of believing him.

“Really, you don’t believe me? Gotta run to Mr. Google, huh? What are you scared I might beat you?”

“Like that’s not how you found out about this tournament in the first place, give me a break. We’re both living in the same century, dude. And no, you won’t beat me.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Dean taunted.

“Who the hell with?” Sam demanded, his recliner creaking down so that he could stand up and face Dean.

“There’s an app I’ve been using,” Dean said, quiet in the face of Sam’s demands and the surprising amount of jealousy that question implied. There was something about Sam’s jealousy that Dean had discovered over their years together. It was beyond delicious, Dean hoarded every bit of it he’d ever encountered.

“That won’t translate to when you’re playing against humans face to face,” Sam said.

“Says who?”

“Says all the game theory stuff I’ve ever read about it. There was one I read about negative outcomes evoking cyclic irrational decisions. Made sense to me, so I doubt your app practicing will help.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be fun,” Dean said.

“And is there much of a prize involved?” Sam asked.

“How’d you guess?” Dean asked.

“How long have I known you by now? Oh yeah, that’s right, my entire life.”

Dean smiled at the triumphant smile on his brother’s face, he did so love pulling that little brother known-you-my-whole-life card. “This year the prize for overall winner is a cool ten k.”

Sam let out an impressed whistle. “Ok, that’s worth a drive to Vegas, even in the summer.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, getting that tingle of excitement in his gut that always hit him now when he knew they’d get to be on the road for a while together. Hanging out in the bunker, having a home, all that was great, but sometimes, he loved getting back to normal. And normal meant being on the road with Sam at his side.

“Yeah, we better hit it soon, right? I mean, so that we make it there in time. You got us a hotel and stuff?”

“Booked us a package deal through the tournament, none of that no-tell motel on the outskirts of town for us this time. We’re gonna be on the main drag, right in the middle of the action! And pack a swimsuit, we’ve got a roof-top pool, dude.”

Sam obviously thought he was kidding about the hotel room, Dean was looking forward to seeing the surprise on his brother’s face when he saw the place for himself. If it was anything like the pictures on the hotel website, he was prepared to be amazed himself.

****

Sometime during the thousand miles of driving, Dean noticed that Sam had gotten quieter than usual. He seemed really immersed in some reading he was doing on his phone. Almost like he was in research mode for a case.

“Hey, this is supposed to be a vacation, you’re not relaxing,” Dean said, whacking Sam in the knee that was almost pressed into his own thigh harder than he probably should have. He loved it more than he should when Sam got all relaxed and sprawled like this in the front seat, taking up three-quarters of the bench seat, encroaching on his space. It reminded him of all that time wound up together in the back seat while Dad was driving.

“Ow! Hard to relax when you’re beatin’ on me like that,” Sam said, shifting around so both of his legs were on his side of the car. He went right back to reading.

“What’re you reading, you’re all intense like you’re studying up for a case?” Dean asked when Sam remained silent.

“Just some of that game theory research I was telling you about. It’s really interesting how the human interaction part of playing makes the game so unpredictable.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you’re researching rock paper scissors, this is supposed to be a fun thing.”

“You said we’re playing against each other right?”

“Yeah, that’s how I entered us, so we’d at least get to play the first round against each other,” Dean answered.

“So, that means one of us is going to lose, right away in the first round?”

“Yeah, thought it might make it easier on you, doing it in front of the crowd, if you were playing a known quantity.”

“That’s some real strategic thinking you’ve got going on there, Dean,” Sam said in a teasing voice. “You paid for two entry fees, right?”

“Yeah, and…”

“And one of us is out in round one?”

“Oh…” Dean trailed off as he realized the error in his strategy, he sighed in preparation for Sam bro-splaining it to him.

“Well, that means whoever wins, out of the two of us, they need to be as prepared as possible so we have a good chance to win that ten-k.”

“You’re assuming you’re winning?” Dean asked before thinking about what his question really meant.

“Don’t I always?”

Dean didn’t answer the big unasked question that underlaid that simple one, because that was not a conversation they were having, not now, not ever. He thought back over all the times they’d played the simple game to decide something life-threatening or just plain embarrassing. Every time, he’d let Sam win, always throwing scissors. Always. Eventually when Sam had gotten old enough, he’d obviously noticed the pattern, but he’d never said anything to Dean about it. Dean had figured his teenaged brother just chalked it up to it being another way that his big brother was looking out for him. Which was how it had started of course.

Their life had been so hard, especially early on, and he’d been desperate to make it easier on Sam. He just had wanted him to be happy, was that so wrong to let him have a win now and then? It was after they’d gotten back on the road, and played the game again for the first time, for something dire, that Dean had realized he’d unconsciously let Sam win again, just like he always had. And after that, he just kept doing it, and Sam kept expecting the same result every time.

It was easier that way, and Sam had never questioned it or made Dean confront his choice to let him win, especially when it was important stuff. It was hard when they never talked about stuff like this to just bring it up out of the blue. And besides, he didn’t want to change it. He was man enough to admit to himself that he loved being able to take care of Sam like that, so easily, without asking permission to, even when it shouldn’t be easy a lot of times.

****

Part 2