Chapter Text
Sam checked the pot roast in the oven before he went over to one of the cupboards to get the plates. He grabbed two plates and was about to start setting the table when his dad came into the kitchen.
“Add two more plates son, and we’ll be eating in the dining room this evening,” Bobby said.
Sam raised an eyebrow, he didn’t know they were having company. It’s not like they never had anyone over for dinner. They had lots of hunters over every month. Bobby always said that anyone who risked their life in order to save another was welcome over for dinner at any day of the week. But this was new, Bobby usually let him know the day before if they were having guests. Unless…
Sam swallowed audibly. “Are they…are they wounded?” They hadn’t taken care of wounded hunters in a while, but they did know how to clean wounds and do some stitching up.
“The father is, but it’s nothing for you to worry about son,” Bobby assured his son and placed a large hand on his son’s shoulder. “He has a son, Dean, think he’s about four years older than you. I figured you two could drive into town tomorrow, maybe catch a movie or something.”
Sam couldn’t help but frown. Usually hunters just socialized for an hour or two, then went back to work. They weren’t really the kind of people who went to see a movie.
Bobby chuckled. “You do know how to hang out with people, don’t you?”
Sam nervously scratched his neck. “Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun.” Bullshit. Sam hadn’t hung out with anyone his own age for a very long time. He was gay and lived in a small town, not exactly a good combination. The library was his sanctuary between classes. The only reason why he didn’t get punched in the stomach on a daily basis was because when he was younger he used to best friends with a girl called Katie. Katie now dated the jock Brian. Brian was captain of the football team, which meant that he basically ruled the school. Even though Katie no longer spoke to Sam, she had still told her boyfriend and his friends that Sam was off limits. No one could touch him. Of course that didn’t stop them from yelling “faggot” at Sam every now and then.
“Does he want to?” Sam asked. “I mean, does he want to hang out with me?”
“Sure,” Bobby waved it off like it was no big deal. “The boy spends all of his time, hunting with his father, or sitting in a car with his father, or in a motel room with his father planning their next move. I think he’d love to spend some time with someone other than his father,” Bobby let out a deep chuckle.
“Have you told them?” Sam bit his lip. “That I’m gay,” he added much more quietly. He had come out to his father about a year ago, when he was fifteen. There had been lots of tears, mostly Sam’s. Bobby hadn’t really been able to grasp the whole concept of having a gay son at first, but he came around, and everything was fine now. All of their close friends knew too, and were fine with it. But a 20-year-old guy, who had never even met Sam before, might not be so cool with it.
“No, but if you want to tell ‘em, you can, and if they don’t like it then they can get the hell outta here,” Bobby smiled at his son.
Sam let out a small laugh, glad to have such a supporting father.
“I’ve met the boy once before, only briefly, but he’s good looking,” Bobby smirked, “You’ll like him.”
“Dad,” Sam blushed deeply, which elicited a big laugh from his father.
-
Sam decided to change his shirt. He tried to tell himself that it was only because the one he had been wearing previously had a stain on it. And you couldn’t greet new guests in a stained shirt, now could you?
He inhaled and exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm his nerves. The hunters that came over to their house were usually twice his age. Dean was twenty, and good looking. Fuck. Sam wondered whether he should put on some aftershave or not. He wondered if he even owned aftershave. He got a bottle a couple of Christmases ago, but he had no idea where it was now. There hadn’t really been a point in putting it on. There hadn’t been anyone to impress.
Is that what he wanted? Did he want to impress Dean?
Sam flung himself on the bed, face first right into his pillow. It was stupid really. Dean wasn’t gay, and Sam would probably be a virgin until he was at least 30, by then he hoped that he had left this town.
He turned around, so that he was on his back instead. The feeling of loneliness crept up on him. Every day in school he had sit and watch his classmates flirt with each other, hug each other, kiss each other, and one time he had even walked into one girl giving her boyfriend a blowjob between two bookshelves in the library.
Everything was so much easier if you were straight. Most of the guys at his school were morons, but yet, most of them were still in relationships. A lot of them were in relationships, plus they screwed other girls on parties. Sam wasn’t really the type to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear the details every Monday, when the boys bragged how they had slept with girl this or girl that over the weekend.
Sam didn’t care that he never got invited to any of the parties. His father would probably disown him if he came home drunk. Well, maybe not, but Bobby did have a strict no-drinking policy when it came to Sam. “As long as you’re under 21, you will not touch a drop of alcohol”, had been Bobby’s exact words. It was okay, it really was, Sam didn’t feel the need to drink. Drinking killed brain cells, and Sam needed his brain intact and working if he wanted to get out of this small town. Getting into college in one of the bigger cities was his dream and ticket out of the small town that seemed to hate him so much.
There, at a college in a big city, he’d meet open minded people who wanted to be friends with him. People who didn’t care that he was gay. And, maybe, if he was really lucky, he’d meet a guy. Sam let his hands travel down to his stomach and lifted his shirt slightly. It was stupid, really, it’s not like he could see any visible changes. His stomach looked like it always had. Two days ago he had found out that he had the ability to get pregnant. It wasn’t a rare ability for men, but Sam was gay, and that meant that he had to endure what must have been the most awkward talk with a doctor ever.
The doctor had been a man in his mid-sixties, who barely knew anything about male pregnancy, so he had read directly from a pamphlet. And as if that hadn’t been bad enough, Bobby had decided to stay and get the information as well, because he wanted to be the supportive father. Sam had been on the verge of throwing up the entire time. If he had been straight he wouldn’t even have to take the test. But now that he was gay, the doctor and his father felt that it was necessary for Sam to get the test and the information. Great.
“Sam, they’re here! Come down and say hi!” Bobby yelled from downstairs.
Sam swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He straightened his shirt, and threw a quick look in the mirror to make sure he looked okay before he headed downstairs.
In the living room, a tall man in his late forties stood. He looked like the average hunter, well-worn clothes, dark circles underneath the eyes from lack of sleep and he looked around quickly every now and then, as if danger was lurking around any corner. Sam knew that the hunters had seen some horrible things, and he understood that it must be difficult not to be on edge after seeing the horrors out there.
“This is my son Sam, Sam meet John Winchester,” Bobby introduced them to each other.
Sam and John shook hands with each other. Sam even offered a smile, and John tried to offer one back, but he mostly just looked tired.
“Why don’t I take a look at your wounds John, and we’ll have dinner after?” Bobby suggested.
“S’ fine,” John waved it off.
“Stubborn one, yeah?” Bobby chuckled. “I’ve dealt with your kind before.”
John snorted something incoherent, but still followed Bobby to his office.
Someone knocked on the front door, and Sam immediately rushed over there to open it.
Sam opened the door, and he could literally feel his heart jump in his chest when he saw the guy standing in front of him. The hair was short and spiky, the eyes were green and oh fuck, the guy was smiling, and oh fuck he had a nice smile, and his eyes crinkles when he smiled, and Sam found that adorable.
“Hey, I took my own car, has my dad arrived yet?” The guy asked.
Oh right, Sam should probably speak. Say something, he ordered his brain. “H-i,” he stuttered out.
“Hi,” the other guy smiled back.
And Sam was doomed.
“I’m Dean,” the guy stuck out his hand.
“I’m Sam,” Sam was blushing, he could feel his face getting ten times hotter. He was making a complete fool of himself, but the guy, Dean, just stood there smiling.
“There you are!” Bobby said.
Sam jumped when he heard his father’s voice from behind him.
“Don’t just let him stand there, let the poor boy in,” Bobby said.
“Yeah, sure,” Sam mumbled and stepped aside so Dean could come in.
Sam wasn’t just going to be a virgin until he was 30, it’d be much longer than that if this was how he greeted guys.
Dinner was eaten in silence, John and Dean threw in some compliments on the food, but then they started to eat like they hadn’t seen food in years.
“Sorry,” John excused himself as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It’s just that it’s been a while since we’ve had a home cooked meal.”
“The food was really great Mr. Singer,” Dean said and looked at Bobby.
“It’s Bobby, and I’m not the chef here,” Bobby laughed and looked at his son.
Dean eyes widened. “You cooked all of this?” Dean asked Sam.
“It’s nothing,” Sam blushed. When you spent hours every day in the library, surrounded by books, you eventually found the cook book section. Besides, he enjoyed cooking, and Bobby had always encouraged him. Sam had joked that it was only because his father just wanted to get out of cooking, but Bobby claimed that that wasn’t the truth.
“It’s not nothing, it was a really nice dinner Sam,” Dean smiled at Sam, something that made Sam blush even further.
“I’ve always told him that he’s got talent, but he won’t listen to me,” Bobby said.
Sam stared down at the table cloth, he wasn’t used to this kind of attention.
Bobby must’ve sensed his son’s mood, because he clapped his hands together. “Okay, John, the game starts in ten minutes. Wanna watch?”
They cleared the table, and after that Bobby turned on the TV. Soon both men were yelling at the TV.
“You don’t like football?” Sam asked when Dean had offered to stay behind and help out in the kitchen.
“Nah, never been too big on sports,” Dean shrugged as he loaded up the dishwasher.
“Everyone in my school is,” Sam mumbled.
“Well, when you live in a town this small, there can’t be much to do,” Dean said, “I guess the football games are the only excitement you get here,” he said and winked at Sam.
Sam nearly dropped the glass he was holding, because holy fuck, Dean winked at him. Sam took a moment to compose himself before he spoke. “We have a drive-in, they’re having a movie marathon tonight, if you want to go,” Sam bit his lip. He hadn’t planned to ask Dean to go the drive-in, it just kind of slipped out.
“Nah, not really,” Dean leaned back against the counter.
Right, Sam thought and looked down at the floor. Of course Dean didn’t want to spend time with someone like Sam.
“It’s just that I’m really tired, I’ve been driving all day,” Dean explained. “But I’d love to watch a movie with you. Do you have a TV in your room?”
Sam looked up and met Dean beautiful green eyes. “Oh,” Sam said and bit his lip so he wouldn’t be grinning like a loon. He nodded, “Yeah, I have a TV in my room.”
-
“Wow, you my friend are a neat freak,” was the first thing Dean said when he entered Sam’s bedroom.
Sam nervously played with the hem of his shirt. He did like to keep his things in order, it was just easier to find things that way.
Dean slowly walked around. “I wish I was more like you, that way I wouldn’t trip over empty takeout boxes in the morning,” he said with a smile.
Sam had never heard anyone say “I wish I was more like you” to him before, and he fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if this was really happening. If he really did have a hot and nice guy in his room, saying he wanted to be more like him.
“What’s this?” Dean asked and picked up a pamphlet from Sam’s desk.
Oh shit, Sam immediately recognized the pamphlet. It was the one with information about male pregnancy. He instantly tried to grab the pamphlet from Dean, but Dean was a hunter, of course he had reflexes. Dean took a step back and Sam grabbed nothing but thin air.
“You can get pregnant?” Dean asked.
Now it was Sam’s turn to take a step back. He knew his dad had turned up the TV, but he’d still hear Sam if he screamed loud enough. Sam’s heart was beating a mile minute.
“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” Dean whispered softly. He took a few tentative steps towards Sam. “Is that what you thought? That I’d hurt you?”
Sam managed a small nod.
“I’d never,” Dean promised.
Sam’s heart was still beating really fast, but it was slowly going back to its normal rate.
“Hey,” Dean said and placed a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, and was relieved when that didn’t cause the younger boy to flinch. “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”
Sam visibly relaxed.
“Has anyone ever hurt you for being gay?” Dean asked. “Because I’m guessing that you are gay, and that’s why you have the pamphlets.”
“I am gay,” Sam bit his lip.
“And?” Dean wanted to know the answer to his other question.
Sam looked down again. “They don’t really hurt me, they just say stuff.”
“Words can hurt too Sammy,” Dean gently rubbed Sam’s arm.
Sammy. Sam liked that.
“Want me to kick their asses?” Dean asked. “I have ten fake-ids in my car, I’ll just take a new identity, and they’ll never find me.”
Sam laughed out loud.
-
Sam watched as the credits rolled. He looked to his left and couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s sleeping form. Sam had turned on the TV, and they had found a thriller that they both wanted to see. Dean had fallen asleep somewhere after the first half of the movie, and Sam hadn’t had the heart to wake him up. Sam couldn’t believe it, he had a guy in his bed. He just wished that the situation had been different. Sam closed his eyes and imagined Dean shirtless, with his arm slung across Sam’s middle. They were sleeping face to face, because Dean was way too pretty not to look at before falling asleep.
“Sam?” Bobby whispered roughly.
Sam immediately opened his eyes and saw his father standing in the doorway.
“It’s late, why don’t you show Dean to the guest bedroom?” Bobby asked.
Sam looked over to his left and saw that Dean was still soundly asleep. “I don’t want to wake him up, he can just stay here and I’ll take the couch or something.
Bobby seemed fine with that and left.
Sam reached out his hand and prayed that Dean wouldn’t wake up, and he ever so slowly stroked Dean’s cheek, it was soft yet stubbly at the same time. Sam smiled.