smalltrolven | fic: Vegas Kimon (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 5 of 5

“Why’d it take us so long?” Sam asked.

“What?” Dean asked, surprised that Sam was speaking after so many miles of quiet. He’d thought Sam was asleep.

“Why did it take us so long…to get here?” Sam asked, his hand creeping across the seat between them and finally landing on Dean’s thigh.

Dean took one hand off the wheel and covered Sam’s with his own. Not that he really could completely since Sam’s hands were so big. He felt himself flush hot at that realization. But anyway, back to the question—that question. There were too many ways to answer that.

Sam tried to get his hand out from under Dean’s, obviously staging a retreat since Dean wasn’t answering. Dean clamped his hand down, holding Sam steady until he could get the words out.

“I think it came down to that I didn’t want to take the chance of losing you,” Dean said, feeling the words have to slice their way through the internal walls he’d kept strong for his whole life. It was probably the most honest thing he’d ever said.

“Me too,” Sam said, and it sounded like he was surprised down to his core.

Dean shifted a little, uncomfortable with how much being honest with Sam about this emotional stuff made him feel. He couldn’t help it. He felt it too deeply, it had been too many years, hiding it all from himself, and Sam. And when they got home, back to that whole bunker full of people—then what? There was even more hesitation to tell Sam the whole truth, he didn’t want to impact his Chief trajectory. How was it going to impact all those people Sam had relationships with now? Dean felt himself go hard all over, and not in a good way, all the walls coming back up. He was not going to be a dirty little secret in his own freaking home. He just was not.

“And recently, I didn’t want to mess up your whole Chief thing you’ve got going on.”

“That doesn’t mean shit to me, compared to you and me. You know that right?”

“You’ve got a lot of stuff going on with those folks though, Sam. You can’t just drop all of that, they need you.”

“Dean, I was using them. It got me through you being gone, concentrating on getting them organized. That’s all it really was.”

“I’m back now,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sam said.

“What are you going to tell them when we get home?” Dean asked, trying desperately not to care what Sam’s answer would be.

“Get out, call me when you need help, in a month or so,” Sam answered so matter-of-factly like he’d already had some time to think about the situation.

“A month? A lot can happen in a month to a bunch of inexperienced hunters,” Dean countered, trying out all the angles for how Sam would be likely thinking about the whole situation.

“Can you pull over, at that rest stop coming up,” Sam pointed out the windshield ahead.

Dean didn’t answer, just pulled his baby over and wondered if this meant the conversation was over. Everything was changed now and he didn’t know if there were new rules about this stuff. As soon as he had the parking brake on and the engine turned off, he had a face-full of little brother. Sam had his hands holding his head, so he couldn’t turn his own face away, he had to look, had to meet Sam’s eyes.

“Listen to me, you—you’re the only person I want to see for a month. I will walk in there and tell them all the truth that we are together and watch them freak out and run away in disgust. I really don’t freaking care at this point. It’s been my whole life waiting for a shot at this and I just want to make sure it works—that we work. Dean, I just want a chance to make you happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

“So I don’t have to be your dirty little secret, huh?” Dean asked, not caring how stunned he sounded, even to his own ears.

“Not unless you want to be,” Sam said in a voice that had no business sounding so damn hot.

Dean shifted in his seat, tried not to think about how hot it would be to sneak around and hide. But it had been too many years, practically their whole lives, hiding what they felt and not having what they wanted. No, it was finally their turn. And if anyone couldn’t deal, then too bad for them. “I really don’t. And I want to tell Mom and Cas.”

Dean was glad he wasn’t driving, because he could actually see what Sam’s reaction was, the whole thing, the process of surprise, confusion, and something that was maybe joy or relief, he couldn’t really tell. He was just swallowing down the swoop of worry that was running through him when Sam kissed him. He immediately realized this was more than a kiss, it was all unsaid thanks, relief from worry, and a fervent acceptance of Dean’s statement,

all topped off with more love and lust than Dean had ever felt. It was overwhelming, he tried to respond in kind as well as he could, and from Sam’s reaction it seemed to work.

Sam eventually let go, let Dean catch a breath, and shifted back into his spot on the passenger side. Dean felt cold and lonely and ridiculous all at once, it was mortifying. He grabbed onto the steering wheel to have something to do.

“Dean, can you just take me home? I want to finish this there—with you,” Sam said, his hands clenching into fists briefly on his thighs like he was fighting against himself.

Dean felt the ridiculous cold lonely feelings fly away the moment he heard Sam speak. In their place was left behind a rawness that Sam’s words instantly soothed.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m gonna take you home, Sammy,” Dean said, promising with everything in him that was left that it was going to be a home, where they could learn to make one together. He reached out a hand to the seat between them and thrilled at the feeling of Sam’s warm hand engulfing his. He knew it was unsafe and stupid, but he didn’t care, he’d drive one handed all the way back home.

The End