Style, Part 2.

Author: Zoicyte aka Johnnyjosh

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dean/Sam implied

Beta: Kitsune Seven

Spoilers: Season 2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or its characters, and am making no money from this.

Warnings and Notes: Yaoi, lime, language.  OOC, TWT, AU, General Weirdness.  This was just a little something that tickled my funny bone after watching a rerun of ‘Tall Tales’. 

Summary: Time’s almost up, and Dean’s deal comes due.  But it seems that sometimes the right words spoken at the right time can mean more than you ever thought possible. 

“ ” Speaking

* * Thoughts

~~oOo~~ Change of scene or POV   

 

~~oOo~~

 

“Alright, let’s have some fun, shall we?”  He grinned, punching Sam lightly on the arm before he walked outside. 

 

Sam just rolled his eyes, grabbing his own coat and shutting the door, then locking it.  “Yeah, let’s go.” 

 

As they walked to the Impala, a shape took form in the alley between the rooms and the office.  The same cop that had watched Dean earlier peered out at the retreating forms, pondering what he’d overheard.  “Well Dean, seems like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the pickle this time, haven’t you?”  He said, then smirked as he decided it might be amusing to keep an eye on the two men for the next 24 hours. 

 

~~oOo~~

 

          An hour later, Dean was finishing yet another beer, barely feeling a buzz yet.  He smirked over at his brother, having just won his fourth straight game of pool against the younger man.  “What’s the matter, Sammy?” He grinned, turning around and leaning back against the table beside the other man. 

 

          Sam huffed and rested both hands on the edge of the table, giving Dean a baleful glare.  “Can we play something else?”  He asked, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes as he looked back down at the table.  “I can’t believe you trounced me every single time,” Sam muttered. 

 

          Dean laughed and gave his brother a pat on the back.  “I guess it’s just not your night, huh?”  He chuckled and stood up, noticing some dart boards set up along the wall to their left.  “Come on, let’s see if we can’t change your luck.” 

 

          Sam sighed and backed away from the table, following his brother.  “About time, I was getting tired of you showing off,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, showing that despite his words, he really wasn’t angry. 

 

          “Yeah, yeah, you just got tired of being reminded of how much you suck at that game,” Dean snickered, reaching for the darts stuck in the center of the board.  He jerked his fingers back suddenly when a knife sank into the board, just missing the darts.  Sam and Dean both jumped and spun around, hands instinctively reaching for their guns.  “What the hell’s your problem?”  Dean snarled, moving his hand away from the gun when he saw two men standing behind them. 

 

          “Dean,” Sam said quietly, leaning down toward his brother as he studied the two men.  Both of them wore jeans, work boots and t-shirts, their clothing speaking of hard work, stained here and there with what looked like oil, or even paint.  They both wore baseball caps over greasy hair that looked suspiciously like it was cut in a mullet, and each was sporting several days’ worth of stubble.  Sam would have sworn they were brothers too if it weren’t for one being blond, the other brunette.  The blond stood about 6 inches taller, not to mention having pudgy, rounded features while the other was gaunt, but probably wiry under those loose clothes.  “Let’s not start anything, we can’t afford to have the cops noticing us now.” 

 

          “I’m not starting anything,” Dean said mildly, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Yet…” He murmured under his breath.  “Okay boys, that board’s taken?  No problem, we’ll just move to another one.”  He walked over toward the next board, then narrowed his eyes, muscles tensing as a second knife sailed through the air and buried itself in the center once again.  “Alright, that’s it,” he growled, turning to face the two men.  “I don’t know what your deal is, and I don’t care.  Let’s step outside and settle this.” 

 

          “Dean, no!” Sam hissed, grabbing his brother’s arm and giving him a gentle shake.  He looked over at the two men and scowled.  “Look, we’re just passing through town, and decided to come out for a beer.  We don’t want any trouble, alright?” 

 

          “Aw, look, the little queerboy wants to fight,” the blond drawled, lighting up his cigarette and ignoring the glare he received from the dark-haired waitress that brushed past him. 

 

          “He oughta listen to his bitch and stand down,” the brunette sneered, taking a few steps closer, the blond following behind.  “We don’t like your kind ‘round here.  So why don’t you just keep movin’, right on through?” 

 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up at the queer remark, and he had to wonder why people always seemed to assume he and Sam were a couple right off the bat.   "Our kind?"  Dean snorted, shaking off Sam's hand and stepping forward, getting right in the brunette's face.  "What, the..." he looked down at himself, smirked and spread his arms out to the sides a bit, "clean kind, that doesn't look like they're the bi-product of selective inbreeding?"

 

Sam winced at his brother’s words, then jumped forward as the other men both tried to throw punches at Dean.  He intercepted the blond and wrestled him back, pushing him and causing the man to stumble and fall into a nearby table and overturn it, the empty glasses that had been sitting on it smashing on the floor.  

 

Dean jerked back, dodging the brunette’s poorly aimed punch with a smirk.  “Man, you shouldn’t pick fights when you’re drunker than your opponent,” he chuckled, turning slightly as the man gave a bellow of rage and lunged at him.  His elbow jerked up, connecting with the man’s jaw and making the brunette stagger back with a stunned expression, arms flailing.  The blond, who had scrambled to his feet and now seemed intent on coming to the other man’s aid once again, steadied him from behind.  “So much for a normal, quiet night.”  He jumped a bit as Sam’s arm brushed his, then glanced up at his brother, giving the younger man a cocky grin.  “But I’m still havin’ fun, how about you, honey?”  He couldn’t resist the mock endearment, finding the situation amusing.

 

“Oh yes, sweetie, loads,” Sam said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he hunched his shoulders and narrowed his eyes at the other two men.  

 

The four of them froze when two huge hands reached out and gripped the local men’s shoulders, squeezing and causing both of them to wince and lean to one side slightly.  “Yeah well, fun’s over boys,” a deep voice drawled, as Sam and Dean found themselves looking up at what must have been the biggest cop they’d ever seen. 

 

He was at least 6’8”, with a huge barrel chest, large biceps and corded forearms showing beneath the rolled up cuffs of his shirt.  He wasn’t wearing his hat, leaving his close-cropped, pale blond hair exposed.  His face had deep lines around his eyes, and on his forehead, speaking of long hours spent in the sun, and he had a jagged scar running down the right side of his jaw, about two inches long.  Everything about the man was a clear warning not to piss him off. 

 

“E…evenin’, Sheriff,” the blond stammered, looking up at the man even though he himself was as tall as Sam. 

“Evening, Judd,” the sheriff replied, raising one thick eyebrow at the blond.  “I see you two are at it again, and who might you two be?”  He glanced up at Sam and Dean.

 

Dean just stared at the man in shock, while Sam managed a quick recovery.  “We were just passing through.  We decided to check out the local entertainment before we got some sleep at the motel out on the interstate,” he said, putting on his best innocent look.  “We didn’t start any of this, honestly, we’re not-”

 

“Oh hell, I can see that,” the large man waved off Sam’s attempts at proclaiming their innocence.  “Those knives in Jerry’s dartboards are proof enough of that.  He’s not gonna be happy with you two,” he shook the two troublemakers roughly.  “I imagine come morning, he’ll have a nice little bill wrote up for those boards, and that table,” he chuckled, then gave the two a light shove, which was still enough to send them sprawling.  “Now, you two settle down before I decide to throw you in the drunk tank for the night.” 

 

“Yessir!”  They both nodded quickly, scrambling to their feet and making their way cautiously to the bar, glancing back over their shoulders every few seconds.

 

“As for you two,” the sheriff sighed, looking over at Sam and Dean.  “You’ve just seen some of what this town has to offer to…people with your particular kind of lifestyle.”  He looked away awkwardly for a moment, scratching at his brush cut hair. 

 

The two brothers shared a look, then sighed in unison.  Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam’s foot coming down on his made Dean think twice, snapping his mouth shut with an audible click. 

 

“Some of us folks try to be a little more liberal and open-minded about things,” the sheriff continued, “but as you can see, old habits die hard.  Not too good for tourism sometimes, but that’s just the way it is.  Maybe you boys should head out, there’s gonna be more of their type arriving soon, the night shift at the mill’s over right about now.” 

 

Sam nodded, slipping an arm around Dean’s shoulders and steering his still staring brother toward the exit.  “Yes sir, thank you Sheriff,” he smiled and tugged at Dean again, finally getting his older brother to move. 

 

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” Dean added, then turned to Sam, looking incredulous.  “Whoa, dude, the size of that guy!” 

 

“I know, Dean, now quit staring before he stares back and recognizes you!”  Sam leaned down and whispered sharply into his brother’s ear.  He sighed as this earned them a couple of glares, particularly from the men at the bar. 

 

Dean nodded, then smirked when he too caught sight of Judd and his friend still giving them dirty looks.  They reached the door and Dean pushed it open with a snicker, raising his eyebrows and winking at the brunette as they stepped out into the parking lot.  Just as the door began to slowly swing shut a particularly wicked idea hit him.  “Aw, I think they’re looking for a show, Sammy.”  Before the younger Winchester had time to register the meaning of the words, Dean had grabbed his face and kissed him.  It was quick, but there was heat and possessiveness in the kiss as one of Dean’s hands slid into Sam’s hair. 

 

Sam stiffened in shock, eyes widening as he made a muffled sound of protest, trying to ignore the ripple of sensation that started in his lips and seemed to plunge straight down to his groin.  His breathing picked up rapidly, chest starting to heave as he reached up and grasped Dean’s shoulders, torn for a moment between shoving the other man away, and pulling him closer. He heard the door to the bar slam shut with a bang, and wondered why Dean was still kissing him, when there was no longer anyone to see their little ‘show’.

 

Dean was frozen for a moments as well.  He’d simply intended this as a sarcastic show for those idiots at the bar; he’d never expected to actually feel anything…especially arousal.  He’d heard the door close, but didn’t pull away; instead drawing out the kiss, lips parting, tongue darting out and brushing Sam’s lower lip in a barely-there caress. 

 

The two men broke apart with a startled gasp as giggles erupted all around them, and the flare of camera flashes lit up the parking lot.  They looked around, shocked to find themselves surrounded by four teenage girls bearing digital cameras, strange wooden paddles, and wearing clothing that looked like something you’d see on Saturday morning cartoons. 

 

“What the hell?!” Dean shouted, covering his eyes as one girl put her camera nearly in his face and snapped a picture, almost blinding him.

 

“Oh my God, that was so hot!”  One of the girls exclaimed, bouncing excitedly as she stood in front of Sam.  “Do it again!” 

 

“Who are you, and what do you want with us?”  Sam asked, closing his eyes as yet another flash went off.

 

“We’re on our way to the yaoi convention, but we got lost.” One girl answered.

 

“But who cares, when we got to see you two?”  Another girl squealed, brandishing her wooden paddle.  “What anime are you two supposed to be from?” 

 

“Ani-what?  Sam what the hell are they talkin’ about?”  Dean growled, eyeing one of the girls as she waved a wooden paddle.  “Don’t you even think about it…” He shook his head, narrowing his eyes. 

 

“I’ll explain later,” Sam answered, holding up his hands.  “Hold on, it’s not what you think,” he began, looking around nervously as the girls closed in tighter around them. 

 

“Yeah, we’re not…  We’re brothers, okay?”  Dean said, then stiffened, looking around with wide eyes as the girls grew still and deathly silent, staring at them intently.  “Oh crud, I think that was the wrong thing to say,” he murmured, moving closer to Sam. 

 

“Yaoi incest,” one of the girls whispered after several tense moments of silence. 

 

“SQUEEEE!!!” 

 

“Augh!” Sam stuck his fingers in his ears, wincing as he looked over at his brother who was doing much the same, nearly doubled over in pain from the high-pitched squeals coming from all around them.  “Yow!”  He jerked his hips forward, realizing one of the girls had just smacked him on the backside with her wooden paddle. 

 

“Ow! Dammit,” Dean snarled, whirling around and glaring at the girl that had just hit him on the ass with her paddle.  “You smack me with that thing again, I’m gonna hit you back!”  Then, for good measure he reached out and wrenched the paddle from her hands, brandishing it at the three remaining girls.  “That goes for my brother, too!” 

 

“Ooh, he’s such a protective seme!”  The girl who’d just lost her paddle nearly screamed as she gave a strange little wriggle, before running to stand behind the other three. 

 

Sam saw an opening when the one girl moved away, and quickly grabbed his brother’s arm, tugging him through it.  “Run, Dean!”  He cried, making a beeline for the Impala.  Dean didn’t need to be told twice, and the two brothers raced across the pavement, the squealing, screaming girls hot on their heels. 

 

“Holy shit!” Sam said breathlessly after they’d wrenched open the doors and nearly dove into the car, locking the doors once they were safely inside. 

 

“Those girls are fucking nuts!”  Dean glared out the window at the girl banging on the glass, still snapping pictures.  “Ah…damn!”  He twisted a bit in his seat, rubbing at his sore rear.  “Strong, too.” 

 

“Yeah, we’d better get the hell out of here, before they decide to take those paddles to the windows,” Sam said, looking around anxiously. 

 

“They’re crazy enough to, but it’d be the last thing they ever did,” Dean growled, starting up the car.  He turned in his seat, checking that none of the girls were behind them, then backed up, swinging the car around hard, leaving two black marks and the smell of burnt rubber behind as he raced out of the parking lot. 

 

~~oOo~~

 

As soon as they turned a corner, the fangirls shimmered and vanished, leaving a lone figure in their wake.  The man, still dressed in a police uniform, and as usual eating a candy bar, threw back his head and laughed as the two men fled.  “Hoo boy, you Winchesters,” he grinned, shaking his head.  “Just when I think I’ve got you two all figured out, you manage to surprise me again.”  The trickster pursed his lips then, looking a bit troubled.  “Hm, even though you guys tried to stop me before, eh,” he shrugged. “I still like you.  Especially you, Dean.  I might just have to do something about this situation…” He said quietly, falling silent, his expression thoughtful for a few moments.  Then his lips curled into positively evil smile.  “I think I can do that, and have a ‘hell’ of a good time while I’m at it,” he snickered, turning and vanishing into the shadows. 

 

~~oOo~~

 

          “Alright, Sam,” Dean glanced over at his brother as they sped down the road, making their way back to the motel.  “You said you’d explain later, well, it’s later.  What the hell is anime, what the hell does,” he tossed the paddle into Sam’s lap, printed side up, YAOI clearly visible. “That word mean, and what’s a seme?”

 

          Sam sank down in his seat, cheeks turning red as he covered his face with his hands.  He mumbled a quick explanation, then jerked upright in his seat as Dean pulled over and slammed on the brakes, staring at him in shock.  “You mean there’s actually girls out there that are fans of that stuff, including incest?” 

 

          “You’d be surprised,” Sam said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose lightly as he relaxed in his seat, feeling the car starting to move again. 

 

          “Damn, if I’d known that it would help me get more dates, I would have let a few women think we were a couple,” he glanced over at his brother, and then burst out laughing.   

         

          Sam started to laugh too, shaking his head.  “Jerk.” 

 

          “Bitch,” the other man answered back immediately with a smirk. 

 

          “Um, Dean?”  Sam looked over at him, brow furrowed as the word made him think of earlier events.  “What was that back there, I mean when you-”

 

          “Oh come on, Sammy,” Dean chuckled, glancing at his brother.  “I just wanted to give those two idiots a show, see if they’d dig themselves an even bigger hole with that sheriff.” 

 

          Sam stared at his brother for a moment, knowing that it may have started out that way, but it had ended up being a lot more than they’d bargained for.  “Then why did you keep kissing me after the door closed?”  He asked quietly. 

 

          Dean flinched almost imperceptibly at Sam’s question.  He’d been hoping his brother either hadn’t noticed, or forgot with the appearance of the crazy fangirls.  “I…didn’t hear it close,” he said lamely, taking a deep breath as he forced himself to keep staring straight ahead, avoiding the disbelieving look Sam was sure to be casting his way. 

 

          Sam made a few inarticulate sounds as he stared at his brother, then nodded, brows drawn together as he scowled. “I…  Oh, alright, fine!”  He said, sitting forward in his seat, then turning to face the other man.  “I heard it, seemed pretty loud to me, but fine, we’ll go with that.  Now, next question-”

 

          “How did I know that was comin’?”  Dean muttered. 

 

          “Which is,” Sam glared at him.  “Since when does a kiss just for show involve tongue?” 

         

          Dean flinched more noticeably this time, teeth bared as he released a breath in a soft hiss.  He’d really been hoping the girls had interrupted them before Sam had felt that.  *Guess this wasn’t my night after all,* he thought sourly, almost wishing now that he hadn’t done it, for he knew Sam wouldn’t stop questioning things until he got answers, and those answers were secrets Dean would rather have taken to his grave.  “Sam, please, would you just stop with the questions?”  He asked, voice low. 

 

          “No, I want to know!  What that was, what it meant, why you didn’t stop when the show was over,” he paused, taking a deep breath.  “And why it felt…the way it did.”  Sam murmured, turning around in his seat and staring out the window. 

 

          Dean frowned at those last words, risking a quick glance at his brother even as his foot pressed harder on the accelerator.  He just wanted to get back to the room, knowing that his brother was going to keep on this track, until he got what he wanted.  But now, that little admission by Sam had Dean wanting a few answers of his own.  They drove for several minutes in tense silence, then Dean slowed down slightly as the brightly lit sign came into view, his expression intent as he pulled into the parking lot and parked the Impala in front of their room door.  

 

To Be Continued…

Oh gawd, fangirls!  XD I had to do it!  Wonder what kind of answers the boys will come up with about that kiss, hm?  Not to mention what kind of plan is our favorite trickster coming up with?  Read and review!

JJ