![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveTitle: Heart's Desire IV: Where I Lay My Head is Home
Sequel to: Heart's Desire III: I Wanna Drive It All Night Long
Authors: Wolfling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfling and James zortified
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 29,000 (story total)
Warnings: sex. angst. the usual.
Spoilers: Woman in White
Summary: Home is where the heart is.
Authors' Notes: Many thanks again towesleysgirl for awesome beta even if we did use 'towards.' And, bwahahaha! You had to put commas back in!
This is the fourth story in the Heart's Desire series. This is the fifth and final part.
continued from part four
part five a
Dean had been awake and dressed for an hour before the furniture was delivered; he and Sam still hadn't talked about where anything went. Dean had a feeling Sam had worked everything out already, but as far as Dean cared, it could go anywhere.
Which was why he ended up standing in the kitchen, watching silently as Sam directed.
It was surreal, seeing the furniture get placed just so -- filling the apartment until, once the delivery guys were gone, the place looked like an actual apartment. Sam was grinning at him like they'd won a lottery, and Dean couldn't help but feel a bit shell-shocked by it all.
He told himself it was wallet-shock, because he'd had to hand over a tip for the three guys who'd carted everything up the two flights of stairs. Had nothing to do with the way Sam kept shooting smiles at him, practically vibrating with happiness ever since he'd woken up and give Dean a well-fucked grin.
As soon as the delivery guys were gone, Dean looked around, decided he didn't want to think about any of it, and said, "We need to hit the stores."
Sam blinked as if that was the last thing he expected Dean to say, then turned thoughtful as he looked out over their now furnished apartment. "Yeah, we do."
There was a list in Dean's head -- two, really. One was the list for 'we've just moved into a motel room'. It had two versions, one for the first day when it could be a overnight stop and could be accomplished at the nearest gas station. The longer version was for longer stays, but assumed things like housekeeping carts and desk clerks handing over travel-sized toiletries.
The other list was for staying in apartments. Not so often used, but Dean could rattle off every item on it, in order. It had changed only a little as they'd grown up; the Bugs Bunny toothpaste replaced by regular peppermint, though the sugar cereals had never left their spot at number five. Dean looked around and found his jacket, then caught up his keys -- a hardware store would be needed, as well, though it could wait until tomorrow.
Sam grabbed up his own jacket and followed Dean down the stairs. "This feels so... domestic."
"We've set up shop before," Dean countered, then he paused and looked at Sam, knowing what his brother meant. "Yeah."
Sam grinned at him then slid by and took off down the stairs at full speed.
"Gonna break your neck," Dean called after him, half-heartedly. He had no idea the number of times he'd yelled that same thing at Sam, since he was two years old and able to walk.
Sam just laughed and threw him the finger over his shoulder, without pausing once in his headlong rush down the stairs.
"Language," Dean added, hurrying down the stairs after him.
"Bite me!" Sam called back just as he hit the door.
Dean ran down the stairs after his brother. He didn't expect to catch him, and wasn't surprised when Sam was waiting for him at the car. Dean walked up to him, then tilted his head down and bit Sam hard on the biceps.
"Ow!" Sam pulled his arm away and glared at him. "Jerk."
"You asked," Dean reminded him. Then he skipped backwards, out of Sam's reach, and ran around to the driver's side of the car.
"You do realise that once we're in the car, you'll be well within reach?"
Dean just grinned at him. Sam's side of the car was still locked. Dean let himself in, locked his own door, and waited for Sam.
Sam looked at him through the window for a moment, then went over to the nearby dumpster. He returned with a long, thin piece of metal. "You going to let me in or do you want to risk me scratching your car when I open the lock myself?"
"You scratch my paint and I will kill you." Dean didn't move yet to unlock Sam's door, but when Sam raised the metal in his hands, Dean lurched across the seat and pulled the lock up. "Bitch."
Sam tossed the metal aside and got into the car with a self-satisfied grin. Dean resolutely ignored him as he started the car, then flipped on the radio and pushed the cassette into the slot. Motorhead roared to life as he pulled away from the curb.
"So where we going?" Sam asked a few minutes later when there was a break between songs.
Dean waited a second for the music to start again, then pointed at his ear and mouthed, "Can't hear you."
The look Sam shot him spoke as eloquently as any words would have.
Laughing, Dean just went back to driving. He'd looked up the address and checked a map of Palo Alto, and had a pretty good idea where he was going. It wasn't far, and if he understood the streets right, the grocery store wasn't really out of the way on the drive home.
He took his time driving to get a feel for the area. It seemed nice enough -- then he spotted something that he hadn't noticed before. "Palm trees?"
"We're in California, Dean," Sam said with a world weary patience. "That means palm trees."
"I thought that was just in Florida and Hollywood." His only trips to California had been farther south and north -- nothing in this part of California had ever needed killing.
"Nope, here too," Sam said. "Along with lots of sun."
"Huh." Dean glanced at the row of palm trees lining the road he'd just turned onto. Freaky. He saw the sign for the K-Mart in the distance -- and just this side of it, a sign that the universe loved him.
"Del Taco!"
Sam groaned.
"Aren't you hungry?" Dean pulled into the parking lot and headed directly for the taco place.
"I won't be after watching you eat fish tacos." Sam didn't however actually protest going there.
Dean gave him a frown. "You have to have one, otherwise it isn't any fun."
"Dean, I will do almost anything for you, but I draw the line at eating fish tacos."
He pulled up to the drive-thru, and didn't even glance at the menu display. "I thought you said you'd fulfill any of my fantasies."
"Sexual fantasies," Sam clarified. "And I'm telling you now if fish tacos enter into your sexual fantasies, I really don't want to know."
Dean just shook his head and gave his order into the speaker. He ordered three fish tacos and a burger. Sam would either eat the burger, or if he lost his appetite Dean would be happy to eat it for him.
Sam just sat on the other side of the car, arms crossed over his chest and resolutely looked out of the windshield.
"You really are going to--" Dean laughed. Sam would sit there and refuse to eat, just to prove his point that he had no idea how good fish tacos were.
"What? Not throw up?" Sam asked with a hint of an edge to his voice. "Yeah, I'm doing my best."
"Wimp." Dean took the bag of food and tried handing it over to Sam.
Sam actually shrank from the bag. "They're your fish tacos, you can keep them on your side of the car."
"You don't want your burger?" Dean dangled the bag towards him as though it were filled with jackal hearts.
"Take it out and hand it to me," Sam requested. "I don't want any fish cooties."
Instead of doing as requested, Dean dropped the bag in his lap. He waited until they were headed into the K-Mart before he pulled out the first taco.
"Just for your reference," Sam mentioned in a deadly casual voice. "You eat those things, you're not going to be kissing me anytime soon. Not without decontamination."
Dean took a bite, then held the taco out. "Did you want some?"
Sam looked at him, at the taco, then back at him, then turned on his heel and silently walked away. Dean watched him go, chuckling to himself. He kept eating his taco, and grabbed a shopping cart. He spotted Sam, head above the displays and other shoppers, and chuckled again as he took another bite of taco.
He caught up to Sam in toiletries. Sam didn't say anything to him, just added a large bottle of mouthwash to the cart. Dean reached past him and grabbed a couple of toothbrushes. One-handed, he added toothpaste to the pile. In-between, he kept eating his taco.
When he reached for the second taco, he grabbed the burger and held it out to Sam. Sam looked at him for a minute before taking it with a muttered, "Thanks."
"I've got extra tartar sauce," Dean told him as Sam took his first bite.
Sam paused but kept chewing. When he'd swallowed, he said, "I just want you to know I hate you."
Nodding seriously, Dean said, "Got it. Hate me. No tartar sauce." He continued walking down the aisle, reviewing the list in his head. Nothing else they needed here.
He left Sam to push the cart behind him, and turned the corner to the next aisle. He caught sight of a display hanging by the endcap, and grinned, grabbing the package on the top and tossing it towards the cart.
Sam picked the package up out of the cart to take a closer look at it. "Mutant turtles?" he asked, looking at his brother in disbelief. "How old are you, again?"
"That's for you," Dean pointed out. "What's the matter, Sammy? Don't you like turtles anymore?"
Again Sam fell back into silence, only giving Dean a disgusted look. He did, however, put the toy back into the cart.
"Did you want the Princess Jasmine one instead?" Dean held up one of the toys from the other side of the endcap display. Sam just pushed the cart away before Dean could drop the new toy in.
Dean followed him, not really minding that with Sam ahead of him, his brother couldn't get the full visual of Dean eating the fish tacos. Sam could hear the crunch of the taco shells, which was enough to remind him what Dean was doing.
They quickly finished with the bathroom stuff, and headed for the next section of the store. They needed -- well, everything. Dean glanced ahead and saw the towels and sheets and stuff. "Hey," he got Sam's attention as his brother headed that direction.
"What?" Sam asked, more than a bit wary around the eyes.
"We can get that crap at Goodwill." He nodded in the direction Sam had been walking.
"Yeah, but..." Sam hesitated, then continued softly, "I thought it might be nice to have new sheets and all for the bed. For... y'know."
"You know how much new sheets cost?" slipped out of Dean's mouth, before he could kick his brain into gear. Like he and their dad hadn't been saying shit like that for, well, eighteen years. But it wasn't like Sam didn't have a point. It would be kinda nice, for a change. "Sorry," he said, walking up beside Sam.
Sam nodded, silently accepting the apology. "We can get the rest of the stuff at Goodwill," he compromised. "Just one new set for special occasions."
"Yeah." He reached out and brushed his hand against Sam's wrist. "I guess it would be...nice. To have new stuff."
Sam gave him a small smile and started for the sheet aisle once more. Dean followed him, and when they turned down the aisle, Dean realised there were two problems with Sam's plan. The first was how the hell did anyone decide? Usually it was a matter of what was on the shelf at Goodwill that might reasonably fit and wasn't so garish that a person couldn't sleep.
The other problem was, how the hell did anyone decide?
Dean stared at the row of sheets, grouped by size and brand and thread count, whatever the hell that meant. He realised he was gaping when the taco in his hand began to drip sauce on the floor. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem to be having any problem at all, going down the aisle and looking at the various labels, muttering to himself under his breath.
"Should I just close my eyes and pick one?" Dean asked, feeling a little overwhelmed. A second later he was feeling pissed off by the fact he was feeling overwhelmed by fucking sheets.
Then he looked closer and realised that some packages were full sets, and others were just fitted or flat, and how the hell did they expect anyone to know what the hell they were doing?
Sam pulled a package off the shelf and held it out to Dean. "These are the ones we want."
Dean took them, looking at the sheets, then his brother, suspicious and confused. "How do you know?" They were black, which was cool, but there seemed to be other black sheets on the shelves as well.
"They've got a high enough thread count to be good quality but not so high as to be insanely expensive," Sam told him, sounding for all the world like he knew what he was talking about. "And I thought black would... look nice."
His mouth was open to ask Sam what he was talking about when the image hit. Sam, naked, lying on the bed. Black sheets. Dean dropped the sheets into their cart.
Sam grinned at him. "Wait here. I just have to..."
Before Dean could say anything, Sam had disappeared around the end of the aisle.
Dean hoped Sam was running back to the lube aisle. He waited where he was, obediently, until Sam returned. Sam wasn't gone long, but the package he put into the cart when he came back was too big and flat to be lube.
Immediately suspicious, Dean reached down and picked the package back up. He felt his jaw drop to the floor when he saw the picture.
"You can't be serious," he forced out, eyes wide and sounding like someone had just handed him... well, exactly what Sam had gotten. "Dude, it's Batman." And it was -- a pillowcase, with a huge picture of Batman on both sides.
"Yeah, it is," Sam confirmed as if buying a Batman pillowcase was perfectly natural.
Dean stared at it for another moment, wondering if there was going to be a note on it saying it would only fit pillows for people age seven and under. "Sam, what are you.... Batman," he said again, because where had Sam found a Batman pillowcase and what on Earth had possessed him to get one, and -- it was Batman.
He had a Batman pillowcase.
"They had Wonder Woman too if you'd rather..." Sam began, reaching as if to take the pillowcase back.
Dean snatched his pillowcase away, before Sam could touch it, and scowled at Sam. "Mine." He knew he probably sounded like a stubborn seven year old, but -- he'd wanted Batman underoos, too, when he was little. Wanted the comforter, and the pajamas, and the battery-powered toothbrush.
He wasn't giving up his pillowcase now, just because Sam wanted to be a twit.
Sam grinned at him. "You sure?"
Dean defiantly dropped the pillowcase into the cart. "If we have to put something back, your turtle doll goes." He gave Sam a glare, and grabbed the cart to push it. He wasn't sure he trusted Sam not to sneak the pillowcase back while he wasn't looking.
"Actually..." Sam pulled out his wallet and took out some bills that he handed to Dean. "That should cover the sheets and the pillowcase," he said.
Dean stared down at the money, not making a move to take it. "Dude, what the-- I'm just kidding about putting your doll back," he said, wondering if maybe Sam thought he was serious. Well, he was serious, because no way was he letting go of his pillowcase.
"I... just want to buy it okay? I know it probably doesn't matter because we're sharing everything but..." Sam shrugged. "I just want to."
"It's okay, Sam," Dean said, nodding at him to take back his money. "Keep it. I've got it covered." He did have plenty of cash for what he expected they'd get, though he'd definitely have to find a pool table by the weekend.
But Sam continued to hold the money out for him. "That's not the point."
"So what's the point?" Dean had the feeling that he'd completely missed the first half of the conversation, which was utterly unheard of when it came to dealing with his brother. The only other time Sam had completely blind-sided him... was when he'd said it was all right for Dean to kiss him.
He did take the money, though, because he recognised the stubborn look on Sam's face. He either took the money now, or had a silent-screaming fight in the middle of K-Mart and spent another night sleeping alone -- and Sam would slip the money into his wallet anyhow, just to be a bastard about it.
"It's not much of a gift, if you end up paying for it yourself," Sam pointed out, relaxing after Dean took the money out of his hand.
That surprised him. "A gift for what?" He looked at the money, then at the sheets. Seeing Sam on black bedsheets was definitely a gift he could appreciate, but -- it was months until his birthday, and he hadn't done anything gift-worthy, lately, that he could think of.
"For coming here with me," Sam replied.
Dean didn't try to stop his smile; it was returned full-force from Sam, dimples and all. "To K-mart?" Dean teased.
"To California," Sam countered, still smiling.
"This is where the fish tacos are," Dean replied, holding up his bag with the third taco still in it. He didn't feel like eating it, though, in front of Sam.
Not just at the moment, anyhow.
"Jerk," Sam said fondly. "Come on, let's get the rest of this shopping done."
"Jot de gari," Dean said, and he let Sam take the shopping cart. A moment later he pulled out his third taco. He really didn't understand how Sam could think these were gross. "You like fish sticks, right?" he asked, after a couple bites and Sam wilfully ignoring him.
"I like fish sticks," Sam acknowledged with that patient tone he got when he was talking to small children or the chronically dense. "I like tacos, too; I just don't like them together."
Dean thought about that. Nope; didn't make any sense. He ate the rest of his taco, thinking it over just in case there were any lightning flashes of insight to it -- but all he got was that Sam had no idea what was good.
He followed Sam through the store, pointing out things Sam walked past, and nodding when Sam picked up stuff without prodding. He noticed that Sam seemed to be following the list in Dean's head pretty closely, which was either really freaky, or meant his little brother had been paying closer attention than Dean had realised over the last couple of decades.
The cart was pretty full by the time they were heading for checkout. "I think we got everything," Sam mused, eyeing the items as they put them on the counter.
"Cat litter," Dean said, naming the first thing to pop into his head that he had never in his life purchased. Sam gave him that look again. Dean looked offended. "We need cat litter for the... wait. We don't have a cat. That was you purring."
Now he got a puzzled look. "I don't purr."
"Oh, Sammy, you were definitely purring." Dean grinned.
Sam still looked doubtful but he didn't argue the fact.
In deference to the people standing around them in line, Dean didn't describe exactly when Sam had purred. "You want me to show you again when we get home?"
He could see by the way Sam's eyes darkened that he figured out what it was that Dean was offering. "I think I'll have to insist on it."
Dean nodded. "It's best we settle the matter once and for all. So there's no... disagreement." He then had to try to take his mind back off having sex with his brother as they reached the register. The checkout girl was all smiles, and Dean chatted easily with her, making her grin and laugh. When they finally paid and headed back to the car with about a million bags, Dean thought of one more store he really needed to find.
Probably wouldn't be able to track one down tonight, unless -- he looked around and spotted a phone, with a book of yellow pages dangling beneath it.
"Hang on," he told Sam, and jogged over to it. He could see out of his peripheral vision that Sam was watching him, but he stayed by the car with their bags. Dean flipped through the phone book quickly, noting the paltry selection of stores but memorising their addresses quickly. They looked to be all in one area of town, which didn't surprise him in the least.
Then he headed back to the car and raised an eyebrow at Sam, who was just standing by the car with the bags still in the cart. "Dude, you couldn't have put those away?" He got his keys out, and jangled them, tellingly.
"Not with the car locked and you having the keys," Sam pointed out, grabbing them from Dean now to open the trunk.
"Huh." Dean gave his brother a perplexed look while he patted his pockets, then pulled out a key. He meant to make a joke, but the look on Sam's face made him just silently hand it over. He loaded up the car with their bags while Sam fiddled with putting the new key on his keychain.
"This doesn't mean you can just take the car whenever you want," Dean said, warningly. "And I better not find the gas tank empty."
Sam finally looked up. "Thanks."
Dean shook his head. "Don't get all mushy on me. It's just the key to my most beloved possession. Well, other than you but you already have your own key." He didn't think what he'd said made any sense, but he was only half-paying attention to the conversation.
The rest of him was thinking about what he wanted to buy at Inserection.
"I didn't realise I had a lock," Sam said, bemused, as they got into the car.
"Sammy, you have a dozen fucking locks," Dean said, shaking his head and not really sure what he meant. It wasn't that he'd ever had trouble getting his brother to do anything he wanted -- but maybe that was just because all of Sam's locks had Dean-sized keyholes already installed.
Sam was looking at him with that expression that said Dean had said or done something that had surprised or impressed him. "Dude, that's kinda deep."
Shrugging, Dean said, "I can do it once a year. Then I have to rest up before I can do it again."
"You sell yourself short, sometimes."
"I sell myself very--" Dean cut himself off, telling himself he was a moron. He was trying not to remind Sam of stuff that made him look at Dean all sad and woeful-eyed. "Anyway, I don't know what I meant, about the stupid locks," he ground out.
When they stopped at a light, Sam leaned over and kissed him.
Dean didn't stop him, perfectly happy to be kissed whenever and wherever Sam wanted to. But when Sam moved away, Dean asked, "What was that for?" like he really was brain dead and had already forgotten what he'd been saying.
"Just because," Sam replied with a small smile.
"Freak." Dean shook his head and turned the car towards the red light and cheap diner distract, heading away from both the grocery store and home.
After a moment, Sam asked, "Where are we going?"
"I need something," Dean said, as seriously as he could. As seriously as he could while thinking about just what it was he wanted to buy. And use.
Sam's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"A dildo."
Sam blinked. "I'm sorry, I can't have heard right. I thought you said..."
"Dildo," Dean repeated. "It's like a fake cock," he began.
"I know what it is," Sam said quickly. "And you want one..."
Dean just nodded, as though they were talking about tacos.
"Why?"
He glanced over, giving his brother a surprised look. "For sex."
"I thought that was what I was for." Sam sounded just the slightest bit pouty.
"You are," Dean agreed. "And that's why I want a dildo." The images were making it difficult to carry on the conversation so casually. Sam, naked -- on black sheets -- with his legs spread and a dildo in his ass....
Dean coughed.
Sam's eyes widened, as he seemed to finally figure out what Dean was proposing. "Oh," he said faintly.
Trying desperately for a casual air, Dean said, "I think it would look nice."
"Oh," Sam said again, even more faintly. Dean saw him swallow hard.
"Do you think it would...feel nice?" he asked, still as casually as he could, which, given the way his voice cut out, was pretty damn near not at all.
"I..."
Dean gave him a concerned frown. "Do you need to wait in the car while I go buy a couple?"
There were two spots of colour on Sam's cheeks. "I'll go with you," he said, voice husky.
"Probably a good idea. I'll want to see what colors look best against your skin tone." Dean could hardly believe he was capable of talking, much less form whole sentences. But there he was, and here was the last turn and up ahead were the garish, tacky signs that said he'd found what he was looking for.
Beside him, Sam gulped.
He didn't say anything more as he pulled into the parking lot of the first adult toy shop. The triple Xs and blacked out windows told him more than the name of the store; he gave Sam a cocky grin and headed for the door. Maybe he could tease his brother with a few things and watch him blush -- or watch for his eyes to do that widening-aroused-needy look, which would be even better.
Stepping inside, Dean paused to look around, get his bearings. One wall filled with porn videos; he'd keep that in mind for later. Right now what he wanted was lined up on a shelf, examples on lurid and explicit display.
Perfect.
Sam had followed him in and continued to trail after him a step or two behind. Dean could see he was trying to act casual, but it wasn't really working. It would be so easy to tease him, make him blush until he combusted. Dean reached out and took Sam's hand and pulled him along, easily but not insistently, towards the dildos.
His touch seemed to make Sam a little less self conscious, though he was still blushing as brightly as Dean had ever seen him.
Sometimes Dean thought he was really incredibly slow. Sam was just 18, for god's sake. This was probably his first time in a sex shop. Dean leaned over and gave him a light kiss. "Relax. They've all seen virgins before."
Dean didn't think it was possible but Sam got even redder. But he still managed to shoot back, "I'm not that much of a virgin.'
"Not a virgin at all, except for never seeing Rocky Horror," Dean replied. "Why the hell you won't let me take you to the movie theater -- look, I won't even make you dress up as Rocky." He stopped in front of the selection of anal dildos, and looked them over. Glass, silicone, rubber? Realistic, or a frog's head?
Could he seriously fuck his brother with a frog?
"Maybe if you dress up as Rocky," Sam replied, his voice a little distracted as he also stared at the dildo selection. "Or Frank."
"There is no way in hell I am dressing up as Franknfurter. You can paint my car pink first." Dean reached out and picked up a nice black silicone dildo. Not too huge, but not small enough to be insulting or useless after the first few times. Most importantly, the circumference was smaller than that of Dean's erection, so he could use it right away.
"You'd look good in fishnets," Sam told him, staring at the dildo that Dean was holding.
"If you ever say those words again, I will eat fish tacos in bed and use this on myself and not let you touch."
Which, actually, wasn't a bad idea. Dean looked at the dildos again.
"No, you wouldn't." And suddenly Sam sounded absolutely confident. "You're always going to let me touch."
"I'll tie you up," Dean said, as though what Sam had just said weren't so utterly true that 'the sun will rise in the morning' had a better chance of proving false. Picking up a huge, semi-translucent, turquoise dildo, Dean showed it to Sam. "What do you think?"
"That you're yanking my chain."
"For me, pea-brain." He wasn't all that thrilled with the color, but he really didn't care because he didn't expect to be looking at it.
"That you're trying to make me feel inadequate," Sam shot back smoothly.
Startled, Dean looked at the dildo. Well, yeah, obviously it was bigger than Sam -- or any other normal human male. But that was what toys were for -- to get more of what you wanted.
And to freak out your brother.
"So, you think the red one?" he asked, setting the turquoise one down and picking up the red vibrator.
"Is that really something you're seriously considering getting?" Sam asked dubiously.
Dean shrugged, and set it back on the shelf. "Which one do you want?" he asked, showing him the dildo he'd already picked up, but using it to gesture to the others. "I think we should stick with silicone for now, but if you have any idea what sort of shape you'd prefer...?"
"Is that the one you like?" Sam asked, gesturing at the black dildo.
"It's gonna be in your ass, Sam," Dean told him. "I just wanna see it; I don't care what it feels like."
He hadn't used dildos himself, much, but he knew what he liked. Smooth, round, and hard -- bigger than a man's cock and longer, so he could be filled and stay filled until his universe exploded.
"If you were me, is that the one you'd choose?"
"I think this one will do just fine," Dean said, realising that maybe Sam was trying to not have to say out loud that he had no clue because he hadn't been able to do any research ahead of time. He looked at it, and thought about using it. "Yeah, real fine."
Sam nodded decisively. "That one then," he said, full of enough nervous energy that he was sorta... twitching.
"Great. Come on, we need some condoms and cleaner and probably a hell of a lot more lube." He led Sam away from the dildos, and through some of the less eye-popping sections of the store. All he needed was for Sam to swallow his tongue at the sight of the bondage gear.
"Sounds like you have definite plans for us," Sam said with a grin.
"Sam, if I don't have sex with you in the next hour, I'm going to have a serious medical condition."
Sam's hand found its way to Dean's ass. "I can live with that time table."
"Thought you might." Dean found what he was looking for, and grabbed the supplies, dumping them into Sam's hands before dragging his brother towards the register.
The guy didn't blink and didn't make chitchat, and soon enough they were on their way back outside. The second they were in the car, Sam leaned over the seat and kissed Dean thoroughly.
Damn, but this was getting to be a habit, Dean thought. Every time they were in the car, they were making out. Dean grinned. He could probably blame it on youth and hormones, but that made it sound like he minded. When Sam broke the kiss, Dean asked, "So, you wanna get groceries?"
Sam lifted an eyebrow. "I thought we had a deadline. Y'know, the serious medical condition?"
"It won't take us an hour to shop. I figure, half an hour shopping, ten minutes' driving, and we're home before the timer goes." Dean didn't know what he would do if Sam called his bluff and said yeah, let's go shopping.
Probably he'd drive to the grocery store and buy a bag of ice.
Sam seemed to be giving it serious thought. "We still have left over Chinese in the fridge," he mused.
Dean turned at the next light -- heading home. "Don't whine at me when you wake up and there's no breakfast."
Sam shrugged. "We can always go grab some breakfast burritos somewhere." He grinned suddenly. "It's almost tradition."
"This is why you're the smart one."
Sam just continued to grin, looking smug as they drove back home.
end part five a
on to five b
Sequel to: Heart's Desire III: I Wanna Drive It All Night Long
Authors: Wolfling
wolfling and James zortifiedPairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 29,000 (story total)
Warnings: sex. angst. the usual.
Spoilers: Woman in White
Summary: Home is where the heart is.
Authors' Notes: Many thanks again to
wesleysgirl for awesome beta even if we did use 'towards.' And, bwahahaha! You had to put commas back in! This is the fourth story in the Heart's Desire series. This is the fifth and final part.
continued from part four
part five a
Dean had been awake and dressed for an hour before the furniture was delivered; he and Sam still hadn't talked about where anything went. Dean had a feeling Sam had worked everything out already, but as far as Dean cared, it could go anywhere.
Which was why he ended up standing in the kitchen, watching silently as Sam directed.
It was surreal, seeing the furniture get placed just so -- filling the apartment until, once the delivery guys were gone, the place looked like an actual apartment. Sam was grinning at him like they'd won a lottery, and Dean couldn't help but feel a bit shell-shocked by it all.
He told himself it was wallet-shock, because he'd had to hand over a tip for the three guys who'd carted everything up the two flights of stairs. Had nothing to do with the way Sam kept shooting smiles at him, practically vibrating with happiness ever since he'd woken up and give Dean a well-fucked grin.
As soon as the delivery guys were gone, Dean looked around, decided he didn't want to think about any of it, and said, "We need to hit the stores."
Sam blinked as if that was the last thing he expected Dean to say, then turned thoughtful as he looked out over their now furnished apartment. "Yeah, we do."
There was a list in Dean's head -- two, really. One was the list for 'we've just moved into a motel room'. It had two versions, one for the first day when it could be a overnight stop and could be accomplished at the nearest gas station. The longer version was for longer stays, but assumed things like housekeeping carts and desk clerks handing over travel-sized toiletries.
The other list was for staying in apartments. Not so often used, but Dean could rattle off every item on it, in order. It had changed only a little as they'd grown up; the Bugs Bunny toothpaste replaced by regular peppermint, though the sugar cereals had never left their spot at number five. Dean looked around and found his jacket, then caught up his keys -- a hardware store would be needed, as well, though it could wait until tomorrow.
Sam grabbed up his own jacket and followed Dean down the stairs. "This feels so... domestic."
"We've set up shop before," Dean countered, then he paused and looked at Sam, knowing what his brother meant. "Yeah."
Sam grinned at him then slid by and took off down the stairs at full speed.
"Gonna break your neck," Dean called after him, half-heartedly. He had no idea the number of times he'd yelled that same thing at Sam, since he was two years old and able to walk.
Sam just laughed and threw him the finger over his shoulder, without pausing once in his headlong rush down the stairs.
"Language," Dean added, hurrying down the stairs after him.
"Bite me!" Sam called back just as he hit the door.
Dean ran down the stairs after his brother. He didn't expect to catch him, and wasn't surprised when Sam was waiting for him at the car. Dean walked up to him, then tilted his head down and bit Sam hard on the biceps.
"Ow!" Sam pulled his arm away and glared at him. "Jerk."
"You asked," Dean reminded him. Then he skipped backwards, out of Sam's reach, and ran around to the driver's side of the car.
"You do realise that once we're in the car, you'll be well within reach?"
Dean just grinned at him. Sam's side of the car was still locked. Dean let himself in, locked his own door, and waited for Sam.
Sam looked at him through the window for a moment, then went over to the nearby dumpster. He returned with a long, thin piece of metal. "You going to let me in or do you want to risk me scratching your car when I open the lock myself?"
"You scratch my paint and I will kill you." Dean didn't move yet to unlock Sam's door, but when Sam raised the metal in his hands, Dean lurched across the seat and pulled the lock up. "Bitch."
Sam tossed the metal aside and got into the car with a self-satisfied grin. Dean resolutely ignored him as he started the car, then flipped on the radio and pushed the cassette into the slot. Motorhead roared to life as he pulled away from the curb.
"So where we going?" Sam asked a few minutes later when there was a break between songs.
Dean waited a second for the music to start again, then pointed at his ear and mouthed, "Can't hear you."
The look Sam shot him spoke as eloquently as any words would have.
Laughing, Dean just went back to driving. He'd looked up the address and checked a map of Palo Alto, and had a pretty good idea where he was going. It wasn't far, and if he understood the streets right, the grocery store wasn't really out of the way on the drive home.
He took his time driving to get a feel for the area. It seemed nice enough -- then he spotted something that he hadn't noticed before. "Palm trees?"
"We're in California, Dean," Sam said with a world weary patience. "That means palm trees."
"I thought that was just in Florida and Hollywood." His only trips to California had been farther south and north -- nothing in this part of California had ever needed killing.
"Nope, here too," Sam said. "Along with lots of sun."
"Huh." Dean glanced at the row of palm trees lining the road he'd just turned onto. Freaky. He saw the sign for the K-Mart in the distance -- and just this side of it, a sign that the universe loved him.
"Del Taco!"
Sam groaned.
"Aren't you hungry?" Dean pulled into the parking lot and headed directly for the taco place.
"I won't be after watching you eat fish tacos." Sam didn't however actually protest going there.
Dean gave him a frown. "You have to have one, otherwise it isn't any fun."
"Dean, I will do almost anything for you, but I draw the line at eating fish tacos."
He pulled up to the drive-thru, and didn't even glance at the menu display. "I thought you said you'd fulfill any of my fantasies."
"Sexual fantasies," Sam clarified. "And I'm telling you now if fish tacos enter into your sexual fantasies, I really don't want to know."
Dean just shook his head and gave his order into the speaker. He ordered three fish tacos and a burger. Sam would either eat the burger, or if he lost his appetite Dean would be happy to eat it for him.
Sam just sat on the other side of the car, arms crossed over his chest and resolutely looked out of the windshield.
"You really are going to--" Dean laughed. Sam would sit there and refuse to eat, just to prove his point that he had no idea how good fish tacos were.
"What? Not throw up?" Sam asked with a hint of an edge to his voice. "Yeah, I'm doing my best."
"Wimp." Dean took the bag of food and tried handing it over to Sam.
Sam actually shrank from the bag. "They're your fish tacos, you can keep them on your side of the car."
"You don't want your burger?" Dean dangled the bag towards him as though it were filled with jackal hearts.
"Take it out and hand it to me," Sam requested. "I don't want any fish cooties."
Instead of doing as requested, Dean dropped the bag in his lap. He waited until they were headed into the K-Mart before he pulled out the first taco.
"Just for your reference," Sam mentioned in a deadly casual voice. "You eat those things, you're not going to be kissing me anytime soon. Not without decontamination."
Dean took a bite, then held the taco out. "Did you want some?"
Sam looked at him, at the taco, then back at him, then turned on his heel and silently walked away. Dean watched him go, chuckling to himself. He kept eating his taco, and grabbed a shopping cart. He spotted Sam, head above the displays and other shoppers, and chuckled again as he took another bite of taco.
He caught up to Sam in toiletries. Sam didn't say anything to him, just added a large bottle of mouthwash to the cart. Dean reached past him and grabbed a couple of toothbrushes. One-handed, he added toothpaste to the pile. In-between, he kept eating his taco.
When he reached for the second taco, he grabbed the burger and held it out to Sam. Sam looked at him for a minute before taking it with a muttered, "Thanks."
"I've got extra tartar sauce," Dean told him as Sam took his first bite.
Sam paused but kept chewing. When he'd swallowed, he said, "I just want you to know I hate you."
Nodding seriously, Dean said, "Got it. Hate me. No tartar sauce." He continued walking down the aisle, reviewing the list in his head. Nothing else they needed here.
He left Sam to push the cart behind him, and turned the corner to the next aisle. He caught sight of a display hanging by the endcap, and grinned, grabbing the package on the top and tossing it towards the cart.
Sam picked the package up out of the cart to take a closer look at it. "Mutant turtles?" he asked, looking at his brother in disbelief. "How old are you, again?"
"That's for you," Dean pointed out. "What's the matter, Sammy? Don't you like turtles anymore?"
Again Sam fell back into silence, only giving Dean a disgusted look. He did, however, put the toy back into the cart.
"Did you want the Princess Jasmine one instead?" Dean held up one of the toys from the other side of the endcap display. Sam just pushed the cart away before Dean could drop the new toy in.
Dean followed him, not really minding that with Sam ahead of him, his brother couldn't get the full visual of Dean eating the fish tacos. Sam could hear the crunch of the taco shells, which was enough to remind him what Dean was doing.
They quickly finished with the bathroom stuff, and headed for the next section of the store. They needed -- well, everything. Dean glanced ahead and saw the towels and sheets and stuff. "Hey," he got Sam's attention as his brother headed that direction.
"What?" Sam asked, more than a bit wary around the eyes.
"We can get that crap at Goodwill." He nodded in the direction Sam had been walking.
"Yeah, but..." Sam hesitated, then continued softly, "I thought it might be nice to have new sheets and all for the bed. For... y'know."
"You know how much new sheets cost?" slipped out of Dean's mouth, before he could kick his brain into gear. Like he and their dad hadn't been saying shit like that for, well, eighteen years. But it wasn't like Sam didn't have a point. It would be kinda nice, for a change. "Sorry," he said, walking up beside Sam.
Sam nodded, silently accepting the apology. "We can get the rest of the stuff at Goodwill," he compromised. "Just one new set for special occasions."
"Yeah." He reached out and brushed his hand against Sam's wrist. "I guess it would be...nice. To have new stuff."
Sam gave him a small smile and started for the sheet aisle once more. Dean followed him, and when they turned down the aisle, Dean realised there were two problems with Sam's plan. The first was how the hell did anyone decide? Usually it was a matter of what was on the shelf at Goodwill that might reasonably fit and wasn't so garish that a person couldn't sleep.
The other problem was, how the hell did anyone decide?
Dean stared at the row of sheets, grouped by size and brand and thread count, whatever the hell that meant. He realised he was gaping when the taco in his hand began to drip sauce on the floor. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem to be having any problem at all, going down the aisle and looking at the various labels, muttering to himself under his breath.
"Should I just close my eyes and pick one?" Dean asked, feeling a little overwhelmed. A second later he was feeling pissed off by the fact he was feeling overwhelmed by fucking sheets.
Then he looked closer and realised that some packages were full sets, and others were just fitted or flat, and how the hell did they expect anyone to know what the hell they were doing?
Sam pulled a package off the shelf and held it out to Dean. "These are the ones we want."
Dean took them, looking at the sheets, then his brother, suspicious and confused. "How do you know?" They were black, which was cool, but there seemed to be other black sheets on the shelves as well.
"They've got a high enough thread count to be good quality but not so high as to be insanely expensive," Sam told him, sounding for all the world like he knew what he was talking about. "And I thought black would... look nice."
His mouth was open to ask Sam what he was talking about when the image hit. Sam, naked, lying on the bed. Black sheets. Dean dropped the sheets into their cart.
Sam grinned at him. "Wait here. I just have to..."
Before Dean could say anything, Sam had disappeared around the end of the aisle.
Dean hoped Sam was running back to the lube aisle. He waited where he was, obediently, until Sam returned. Sam wasn't gone long, but the package he put into the cart when he came back was too big and flat to be lube.
Immediately suspicious, Dean reached down and picked the package back up. He felt his jaw drop to the floor when he saw the picture.
"You can't be serious," he forced out, eyes wide and sounding like someone had just handed him... well, exactly what Sam had gotten. "Dude, it's Batman." And it was -- a pillowcase, with a huge picture of Batman on both sides.
"Yeah, it is," Sam confirmed as if buying a Batman pillowcase was perfectly natural.
Dean stared at it for another moment, wondering if there was going to be a note on it saying it would only fit pillows for people age seven and under. "Sam, what are you.... Batman," he said again, because where had Sam found a Batman pillowcase and what on Earth had possessed him to get one, and -- it was Batman.
He had a Batman pillowcase.
"They had Wonder Woman too if you'd rather..." Sam began, reaching as if to take the pillowcase back.
Dean snatched his pillowcase away, before Sam could touch it, and scowled at Sam. "Mine." He knew he probably sounded like a stubborn seven year old, but -- he'd wanted Batman underoos, too, when he was little. Wanted the comforter, and the pajamas, and the battery-powered toothbrush.
He wasn't giving up his pillowcase now, just because Sam wanted to be a twit.
Sam grinned at him. "You sure?"
Dean defiantly dropped the pillowcase into the cart. "If we have to put something back, your turtle doll goes." He gave Sam a glare, and grabbed the cart to push it. He wasn't sure he trusted Sam not to sneak the pillowcase back while he wasn't looking.
"Actually..." Sam pulled out his wallet and took out some bills that he handed to Dean. "That should cover the sheets and the pillowcase," he said.
Dean stared down at the money, not making a move to take it. "Dude, what the-- I'm just kidding about putting your doll back," he said, wondering if maybe Sam thought he was serious. Well, he was serious, because no way was he letting go of his pillowcase.
"I... just want to buy it okay? I know it probably doesn't matter because we're sharing everything but..." Sam shrugged. "I just want to."
"It's okay, Sam," Dean said, nodding at him to take back his money. "Keep it. I've got it covered." He did have plenty of cash for what he expected they'd get, though he'd definitely have to find a pool table by the weekend.
But Sam continued to hold the money out for him. "That's not the point."
"So what's the point?" Dean had the feeling that he'd completely missed the first half of the conversation, which was utterly unheard of when it came to dealing with his brother. The only other time Sam had completely blind-sided him... was when he'd said it was all right for Dean to kiss him.
He did take the money, though, because he recognised the stubborn look on Sam's face. He either took the money now, or had a silent-screaming fight in the middle of K-Mart and spent another night sleeping alone -- and Sam would slip the money into his wallet anyhow, just to be a bastard about it.
"It's not much of a gift, if you end up paying for it yourself," Sam pointed out, relaxing after Dean took the money out of his hand.
That surprised him. "A gift for what?" He looked at the money, then at the sheets. Seeing Sam on black bedsheets was definitely a gift he could appreciate, but -- it was months until his birthday, and he hadn't done anything gift-worthy, lately, that he could think of.
"For coming here with me," Sam replied.
Dean didn't try to stop his smile; it was returned full-force from Sam, dimples and all. "To K-mart?" Dean teased.
"To California," Sam countered, still smiling.
"This is where the fish tacos are," Dean replied, holding up his bag with the third taco still in it. He didn't feel like eating it, though, in front of Sam.
Not just at the moment, anyhow.
"Jerk," Sam said fondly. "Come on, let's get the rest of this shopping done."
"Jot de gari," Dean said, and he let Sam take the shopping cart. A moment later he pulled out his third taco. He really didn't understand how Sam could think these were gross. "You like fish sticks, right?" he asked, after a couple bites and Sam wilfully ignoring him.
"I like fish sticks," Sam acknowledged with that patient tone he got when he was talking to small children or the chronically dense. "I like tacos, too; I just don't like them together."
Dean thought about that. Nope; didn't make any sense. He ate the rest of his taco, thinking it over just in case there were any lightning flashes of insight to it -- but all he got was that Sam had no idea what was good.
He followed Sam through the store, pointing out things Sam walked past, and nodding when Sam picked up stuff without prodding. He noticed that Sam seemed to be following the list in Dean's head pretty closely, which was either really freaky, or meant his little brother had been paying closer attention than Dean had realised over the last couple of decades.
The cart was pretty full by the time they were heading for checkout. "I think we got everything," Sam mused, eyeing the items as they put them on the counter.
"Cat litter," Dean said, naming the first thing to pop into his head that he had never in his life purchased. Sam gave him that look again. Dean looked offended. "We need cat litter for the... wait. We don't have a cat. That was you purring."
Now he got a puzzled look. "I don't purr."
"Oh, Sammy, you were definitely purring." Dean grinned.
Sam still looked doubtful but he didn't argue the fact.
In deference to the people standing around them in line, Dean didn't describe exactly when Sam had purred. "You want me to show you again when we get home?"
He could see by the way Sam's eyes darkened that he figured out what it was that Dean was offering. "I think I'll have to insist on it."
Dean nodded. "It's best we settle the matter once and for all. So there's no... disagreement." He then had to try to take his mind back off having sex with his brother as they reached the register. The checkout girl was all smiles, and Dean chatted easily with her, making her grin and laugh. When they finally paid and headed back to the car with about a million bags, Dean thought of one more store he really needed to find.
Probably wouldn't be able to track one down tonight, unless -- he looked around and spotted a phone, with a book of yellow pages dangling beneath it.
"Hang on," he told Sam, and jogged over to it. He could see out of his peripheral vision that Sam was watching him, but he stayed by the car with their bags. Dean flipped through the phone book quickly, noting the paltry selection of stores but memorising their addresses quickly. They looked to be all in one area of town, which didn't surprise him in the least.
Then he headed back to the car and raised an eyebrow at Sam, who was just standing by the car with the bags still in the cart. "Dude, you couldn't have put those away?" He got his keys out, and jangled them, tellingly.
"Not with the car locked and you having the keys," Sam pointed out, grabbing them from Dean now to open the trunk.
"Huh." Dean gave his brother a perplexed look while he patted his pockets, then pulled out a key. He meant to make a joke, but the look on Sam's face made him just silently hand it over. He loaded up the car with their bags while Sam fiddled with putting the new key on his keychain.
"This doesn't mean you can just take the car whenever you want," Dean said, warningly. "And I better not find the gas tank empty."
Sam finally looked up. "Thanks."
Dean shook his head. "Don't get all mushy on me. It's just the key to my most beloved possession. Well, other than you but you already have your own key." He didn't think what he'd said made any sense, but he was only half-paying attention to the conversation.
The rest of him was thinking about what he wanted to buy at Inserection.
"I didn't realise I had a lock," Sam said, bemused, as they got into the car.
"Sammy, you have a dozen fucking locks," Dean said, shaking his head and not really sure what he meant. It wasn't that he'd ever had trouble getting his brother to do anything he wanted -- but maybe that was just because all of Sam's locks had Dean-sized keyholes already installed.
Sam was looking at him with that expression that said Dean had said or done something that had surprised or impressed him. "Dude, that's kinda deep."
Shrugging, Dean said, "I can do it once a year. Then I have to rest up before I can do it again."
"You sell yourself short, sometimes."
"I sell myself very--" Dean cut himself off, telling himself he was a moron. He was trying not to remind Sam of stuff that made him look at Dean all sad and woeful-eyed. "Anyway, I don't know what I meant, about the stupid locks," he ground out.
When they stopped at a light, Sam leaned over and kissed him.
Dean didn't stop him, perfectly happy to be kissed whenever and wherever Sam wanted to. But when Sam moved away, Dean asked, "What was that for?" like he really was brain dead and had already forgotten what he'd been saying.
"Just because," Sam replied with a small smile.
"Freak." Dean shook his head and turned the car towards the red light and cheap diner distract, heading away from both the grocery store and home.
After a moment, Sam asked, "Where are we going?"
"I need something," Dean said, as seriously as he could. As seriously as he could while thinking about just what it was he wanted to buy. And use.
Sam's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"A dildo."
Sam blinked. "I'm sorry, I can't have heard right. I thought you said..."
"Dildo," Dean repeated. "It's like a fake cock," he began.
"I know what it is," Sam said quickly. "And you want one..."
Dean just nodded, as though they were talking about tacos.
"Why?"
He glanced over, giving his brother a surprised look. "For sex."
"I thought that was what I was for." Sam sounded just the slightest bit pouty.
"You are," Dean agreed. "And that's why I want a dildo." The images were making it difficult to carry on the conversation so casually. Sam, naked -- on black sheets -- with his legs spread and a dildo in his ass....
Dean coughed.
Sam's eyes widened, as he seemed to finally figure out what Dean was proposing. "Oh," he said faintly.
Trying desperately for a casual air, Dean said, "I think it would look nice."
"Oh," Sam said again, even more faintly. Dean saw him swallow hard.
"Do you think it would...feel nice?" he asked, still as casually as he could, which, given the way his voice cut out, was pretty damn near not at all.
"I..."
Dean gave him a concerned frown. "Do you need to wait in the car while I go buy a couple?"
There were two spots of colour on Sam's cheeks. "I'll go with you," he said, voice husky.
"Probably a good idea. I'll want to see what colors look best against your skin tone." Dean could hardly believe he was capable of talking, much less form whole sentences. But there he was, and here was the last turn and up ahead were the garish, tacky signs that said he'd found what he was looking for.
Beside him, Sam gulped.
He didn't say anything more as he pulled into the parking lot of the first adult toy shop. The triple Xs and blacked out windows told him more than the name of the store; he gave Sam a cocky grin and headed for the door. Maybe he could tease his brother with a few things and watch him blush -- or watch for his eyes to do that widening-aroused-needy look, which would be even better.
Stepping inside, Dean paused to look around, get his bearings. One wall filled with porn videos; he'd keep that in mind for later. Right now what he wanted was lined up on a shelf, examples on lurid and explicit display.
Perfect.
Sam had followed him in and continued to trail after him a step or two behind. Dean could see he was trying to act casual, but it wasn't really working. It would be so easy to tease him, make him blush until he combusted. Dean reached out and took Sam's hand and pulled him along, easily but not insistently, towards the dildos.
His touch seemed to make Sam a little less self conscious, though he was still blushing as brightly as Dean had ever seen him.
Sometimes Dean thought he was really incredibly slow. Sam was just 18, for god's sake. This was probably his first time in a sex shop. Dean leaned over and gave him a light kiss. "Relax. They've all seen virgins before."
Dean didn't think it was possible but Sam got even redder. But he still managed to shoot back, "I'm not that much of a virgin.'
"Not a virgin at all, except for never seeing Rocky Horror," Dean replied. "Why the hell you won't let me take you to the movie theater -- look, I won't even make you dress up as Rocky." He stopped in front of the selection of anal dildos, and looked them over. Glass, silicone, rubber? Realistic, or a frog's head?
Could he seriously fuck his brother with a frog?
"Maybe if you dress up as Rocky," Sam replied, his voice a little distracted as he also stared at the dildo selection. "Or Frank."
"There is no way in hell I am dressing up as Franknfurter. You can paint my car pink first." Dean reached out and picked up a nice black silicone dildo. Not too huge, but not small enough to be insulting or useless after the first few times. Most importantly, the circumference was smaller than that of Dean's erection, so he could use it right away.
"You'd look good in fishnets," Sam told him, staring at the dildo that Dean was holding.
"If you ever say those words again, I will eat fish tacos in bed and use this on myself and not let you touch."
Which, actually, wasn't a bad idea. Dean looked at the dildos again.
"No, you wouldn't." And suddenly Sam sounded absolutely confident. "You're always going to let me touch."
"I'll tie you up," Dean said, as though what Sam had just said weren't so utterly true that 'the sun will rise in the morning' had a better chance of proving false. Picking up a huge, semi-translucent, turquoise dildo, Dean showed it to Sam. "What do you think?"
"That you're yanking my chain."
"For me, pea-brain." He wasn't all that thrilled with the color, but he really didn't care because he didn't expect to be looking at it.
"That you're trying to make me feel inadequate," Sam shot back smoothly.
Startled, Dean looked at the dildo. Well, yeah, obviously it was bigger than Sam -- or any other normal human male. But that was what toys were for -- to get more of what you wanted.
And to freak out your brother.
"So, you think the red one?" he asked, setting the turquoise one down and picking up the red vibrator.
"Is that really something you're seriously considering getting?" Sam asked dubiously.
Dean shrugged, and set it back on the shelf. "Which one do you want?" he asked, showing him the dildo he'd already picked up, but using it to gesture to the others. "I think we should stick with silicone for now, but if you have any idea what sort of shape you'd prefer...?"
"Is that the one you like?" Sam asked, gesturing at the black dildo.
"It's gonna be in your ass, Sam," Dean told him. "I just wanna see it; I don't care what it feels like."
He hadn't used dildos himself, much, but he knew what he liked. Smooth, round, and hard -- bigger than a man's cock and longer, so he could be filled and stay filled until his universe exploded.
"If you were me, is that the one you'd choose?"
"I think this one will do just fine," Dean said, realising that maybe Sam was trying to not have to say out loud that he had no clue because he hadn't been able to do any research ahead of time. He looked at it, and thought about using it. "Yeah, real fine."
Sam nodded decisively. "That one then," he said, full of enough nervous energy that he was sorta... twitching.
"Great. Come on, we need some condoms and cleaner and probably a hell of a lot more lube." He led Sam away from the dildos, and through some of the less eye-popping sections of the store. All he needed was for Sam to swallow his tongue at the sight of the bondage gear.
"Sounds like you have definite plans for us," Sam said with a grin.
"Sam, if I don't have sex with you in the next hour, I'm going to have a serious medical condition."
Sam's hand found its way to Dean's ass. "I can live with that time table."
"Thought you might." Dean found what he was looking for, and grabbed the supplies, dumping them into Sam's hands before dragging his brother towards the register.
The guy didn't blink and didn't make chitchat, and soon enough they were on their way back outside. The second they were in the car, Sam leaned over the seat and kissed Dean thoroughly.
Damn, but this was getting to be a habit, Dean thought. Every time they were in the car, they were making out. Dean grinned. He could probably blame it on youth and hormones, but that made it sound like he minded. When Sam broke the kiss, Dean asked, "So, you wanna get groceries?"
Sam lifted an eyebrow. "I thought we had a deadline. Y'know, the serious medical condition?"
"It won't take us an hour to shop. I figure, half an hour shopping, ten minutes' driving, and we're home before the timer goes." Dean didn't know what he would do if Sam called his bluff and said yeah, let's go shopping.
Probably he'd drive to the grocery store and buy a bag of ice.
Sam seemed to be giving it serious thought. "We still have left over Chinese in the fridge," he mused.
Dean turned at the next light -- heading home. "Don't whine at me when you wake up and there's no breakfast."
Sam shrugged. "We can always go grab some breakfast burritos somewhere." He grinned suddenly. "It's almost tradition."
"This is why you're the smart one."
Sam just continued to grin, looking smug as they drove back home.
end part five a
on to five b