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"Every bone in my body hurts."
Dean wearily props one hand under his chin, eyes half-mast as he sits at the large table in the library.
"Well, you had to slide Dukes-of-Hazzard-style over Baby's hood, didn't you?" Sam replied sarcastically as he turned the corner, two bottles of beer in hand.
"Empathy, Sam!" groaned Dean, raising his free hand toward the beer. "Did I catch the werewolf, or did I catch the werewolf?"
“Yeah, you got him," Sam confirmed, also groaning slightly as he dropped into the chair facing Dean.
They both twisted off the caps of their bottles and drank greedily
"I jumped like a cat, like James Dean. Ha, do you notice something?"
"Please don’t compare yourself to him."
"James Dean and I, we are like twins. We both love cars, booze and freedom."
"And you look like him..." groaned Sam, who had heard that monologue one too many times.
"And I look like him!" Dean boasted, his ever whimsical brother. "We even share the same name."
"Dean, you're named after our grandmother."
"What's wrong with you, you buzzkill?" Dean asks, slightly irritated.
"Nothing, okay? I'm tired, my left side hurts like hell, and that was a close call earlier, while you're wasting valuable time taking dives over the hood, and now you're complaining that everything hurts."
"Wow, your mood is hardly bearable."
"Bite me."
"Want me to take a look?" Dean asks more gently, pointing to Sam's left side.
"No, I think I'll just pop another ibu and go to bed." He takes a big gulp from his beer bottle and rubs his hand over his tired eyes.
"My place or yours?" Dean winks at him.
"What do you say everyone just sleeps in their own room for tonight?"
"And that blowjob you promised me?"
"Can you not think about sex for once?"
"Why? What else should I be thinking aboutk?"
"What do I know? About how you're just going to be more sensible for once in dangerous situations? Or for all I care, when you're thinking of finally cleaningthe bathroom."
"Hey, it's not my turn."
"Yes it is."
"No it’s ... oh, yes it is. Anyway, I think after I've had the lion's share of the chase, you should let me off the hook."
"Dream on. It's your turn, and no excuses this time."
"Oh and who's shirking cooking duty? Huh?"
"And who refuses to do the dishes after cooking."
"Cooking is art!"
"Fine Picasso, I'll be happy to cook next time."
"This will then probably be abstract art. Let me know so I'll order pizza."
"I'm so sick of this, Dean." Angry and overtired, Sam gets up. "Can you just do the unpleasant things for once?"
"You'd be surprised what I do. Wait and see, one day when I'm not there, you'll regret it and finally acknowledge what it's all about. “
With his back to Dean, Sam stops short. Dean can't see his brother's face, but he knows he's hit a sore spot. But Dean is too pissed and also too tired to take it back.
Without an answer and limping slightly, Sam goes to his room and has managed, once again, to leave Dean with a guilty conscience.
How can you fight about something as stupid as the bathroom?
***
The next morning, Dean wakes up grumpy and alone in his bed with a headache. A combination that he does not like at all.
He throws on his bathrobe and toddles into the bathroom. While doing his business, he looks around and remembers that the reason for their argument (and as a result him emptying half of a Jack Daniels bottle) is this place. Admittedly, it's about time for a good scrubbing. But Dean planned to wash Baby, and there are at least ten episodes of BBQ Pit Boys left to watch. Sam doesn't know it yet, but Dean plans to recreate the original Beer Can Bacon Burger. And with the smell of that juicy burger even Sam will be weak, veggie-loving weirdo or not. No one can resist the Meat Man.
Cheerful and with a plan in mind, Dean strolls into the kitchen. The coffee is already ready, so Dean guesses that his brother is back on his usual jogging course. Dean pours himself a large mug of black coffee, and goes to grab Sam's laptop when his eyes fall on it. Right on top of it is a bucket of cleaning tools and a small note hanging from it.
"Don't forget ."
Annoyed, Dean snorts. This is messing with his day's plan. All he wanted to do was spend a day holed up, studying YouTube videos, and eating unhealthy food. Dean thought he more than deserved that. If only he could have been invisible for a day, then he could hide in his DeanCave and just do nothing. Oh, wait a second.
That's the dumbest idea you've ever had, he hears Sam say in his mind, but with a smile and a smirk Dean decides it's the greatest idea he's ever had.
Ten minutes and another coffee later, he's looking through the MOL arsenal. He's sure it's here somewhere. Dean rummages among tinctures and all manner of small jars and vials until he finally exclaims triumphantly and holds up a small inconspicuous glass bottle containing a bluish liquid.
"I knew it." He eagerly examines the label hanging from the bottle.
The emperor's new clothes. One teaspoon mixed in 250 ml of liquid and drunk briskly makes for at least 24... ha, that's it!
Dean opens the cork on the bottle and smells it curiously. The liquid is scentless. 24 hours of invisibility without Sam being able to see him, without Sam being able to patronize him. It's childish... maybe he shouldn't just drink something that's been sitting around for umpteen years.... Dean shrugs and pours a small sip into his coffee. What could possibly go wrong, he thinks, and swiftly finishes the cup.
Then he waits, and waits, but nothing happens. He looks down at himself, but he sees his body exactly as it was before. It was obvious that the stupid drink didn’t work.
"Great." He says to himself, and now his coffee is also empty. Disgruntled, he goes back to the kitchen. He hears the heavy iron door slam shut upstairs. Sam seems to have finished his jog, and indeed Dean hears his brother's heavy footsteps on the stairs shortly after.
"Hey Dean," Sam calls as he turns the corner.
"Hey." Dean replies, leaning against the counter. "You get your shit together?"
Sam stares blankly into space.
"Come on, you're not still mad about yesterday, are you?"
Sam walks to the fridge without a word and pulls out one of his smoothies. "Geez how much ground beef did you buy ?"
Dean snorts. "Hello, it's called a Beer Can Bacon Burger! And you'll thank me in the end!"
Sam slams the door of the fridge and drains the smoothie in one go. "Damn it, Dean, can't you do something for your health for once?"
"What the hell, Sam?"
But Sam doesn't even pay attention to him, instead going to his computer,where he sees the cleaning bucket on the floor. "I knew it." He sighs.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Sam, you're being a bit of a jerk right now, okay?"
Sam walks carelessly past him, out into the hallway.
"Wow, how mature, Sam. What are you going to do, ignore me? Are you pretending not to notice me now? Am I...uhh." Then it hits Dean, and he follows Sam into the hallway. "Sam? Sam, can you see me?" He calls after his brother, but Sam continues unperturbed until he arrives outside Dean's room.
"You can't hear me either, can you?" asks Dean, his spirits rising.
Sam knocks on Dean's door and opens it.
"Dean? Where are you?" he calls, annoyed.
"Right behind you, Sasquatch." Dean waves both arms, but Sam looks right through him.
"Your sweatpants look ridiculous," teases Dean, but Sam doesn't make a bitch face.
"Sam Winchester cries watching Downton Abbey,“ he calls and still, no reaction from Sam.
"I don't believe it." Dean looks down at his hands. He still sees himself but no doubt, he is invisible to Sam.
"Where the heck is he?" asks Sam to himself, walking toward the bathroom.
"Oh Sammy, I'm right near you." says Dean with a devilish grin on his face.
The next three hours Dean spent teasing his brother wherever he could.
He followed him into the bathroom and at the most inopportune moment turned the water on cold, which elicited a squealing scream from Sam. Dean almost doubled over on the floor laughing. He swapped his jeans with Sam's and watched his brother jumping on one leg trying to get into the too-tight pants. While Sam was still looking for Dean, he loosened the salt shaker lid and later, when Sam disgustedly threw away his scrambled eggs (Dean is and remains the better cook anyways - period), he sat down next to Sam at the laptop and chuckled whenever he hit a key that Sam just did not need.
"God damn it," Sam cursed. Then Sam took his phone and called Dean, but Dean was prepared for that and had put the phone on silent in time. So the call went to voicemail and Sam frowned. "Dean, hey, next time can you just leave a message when you leave?" Sam spoke gruffly on the answering machine and threw the phone on the table. Then he pushed the laptop to the side and began to pour dishwater into the kitchen sink and collect the dirty dishes.
"Oh no, you don't get to make me feel bad, little brother. Today is my invisibility day and InvisibleDean, will now finally devote himself to what he has earned."
While Sam fetched glasses from their rooms, Dean stole two bottles of beer and beef jerky from the fridge and went into his DeanCave. Sam had already been here twice looking for Dean, so he could be sure his brother wasn't coming by here again anytime soon.
The TV was tempting but too big a risk for him to be caught, and so he made himself comfortable on one of the comfy armchairs, pulled out his cell phone, and put the little headphones in his ear. "Hello BBQ Pit Boys," he greeted the familiar men on his small screen and enjoyed the day.
Two episodes turned into eight, followed by a YouTube tutorial about the right grill and, for whatever reason, an episode about veggie BBQ. He read two different conspiracy theories about the existence of werewolves in the White House and wrote an anonymous troll comment.
After that, he ventured out of the room briefly to restock his supplies. Sam was nowhere to be seen and the kitchen was tidy and clean. Good grief, yes, he's doing the bathroom tomorrow. Besides , technically it's Sam who spends hours in there and makes it dirty.
Tomorrow he would clean up, then he would cook Sam the best beer can bacon burger in the world, and a damn veggie burger, if the princess was still mad. Then Sam would thank him with a great blowjob and all would be well again. But today he's InvisibleDean and he's going to have the take-out from the day before yesterday (or the day before that?) and a nice sip of whiskey afterwards. He was walking out of the kitchen when he heard Sam's voice. Curious, he went to the library where Sam seemed to be on the phone.
"Just please let me know if he calls, okay Donna?" Sam sat with his back to him. "I know he's probably just blowing off steam, but I'm just surprised the Impala is still here. It's like he fell off the face of the earth." There is some concern in Sam's voice. "Okay, thank you."
Dean hesitates and considers revealing himself for a moment. But the curse will be over in less than ten hours anyway, and for Sam, maybe it was a little lesson not to take him for granted.
With a certain stubbornness, Dean went back to his cave. He ignored Sam's incoming messages and shortly after dived back into the gloriousness of Shark Week.
Apparently Dean must have fallen asleep at some point between the great white and a school of reef sharks. The right side of his face feels numb, saliva drips onto the armrest of the chair, and his cell phone is off. He blinks a few times and stretches extensively, bones popping back with a crack.
Dean trips over the empty Jack Daniels bottle as he stands up and glances at his watch. It's well past eleven in the morning and the curse should be lifted.
"Goodbye Invisible Dean, and hello housekeeping."
Quietly, Dean steps out of his hiding place and sneaks into his room. He changes his clothes, which desperately need to go into the laundry. Then he sets out to find Sam.
Only, he is not there. And not only he, but also Baby is not there, as Dean realizes after a walk into the garage. "Damn, can't a man be invisible for at least a day?"
Dean grabs his phone, plugs it into the charger, and waits for his battery to charge enough to turn it on.
Nineteen calls from Sam. Various text messages from "Where are you?" to "Dean, this isn't funny anymore; I get it." To "Dean please don't do anything rash. Please come home." Dean is left thinking. They've been in enough weird situations already, and Dean should have known that Sam would worry that something supernatural had happened to Dean.
Baby's unmistakable growling in the bunker garage makes Dean sprint there. Sam carefully parks Baby. Then he opens the driver's side door and gets out. He looks tired, the bright light of the garage making his skin look gray.
"Okay Sam, that was a stupid move. Here I am snapping at myself, but you're going to be thrilled with my discovery.“ Dean walks up to Sam with his arms raised in surrender, but Sam still doesn't seem to notice him.
"Come on Sam, I said I was sorry."
Sam runs his hand through his hair. He is still limping slightly, and damn, Dean should have insisted on looking at it. "Sam, please let's talk. Snap at me for all I care, okay?" Then Sam's cell phone shrills and as Sam opens the door to the bunker he walks carelessly past Dean.
No, no, no, this is not right, the potion should have stopped working a long time ago.
He hurriedly runs after Sam.
"No, I've searched all the surrounding bars." Sam says into the cell phone. Then he stops abruptly. "No I was notthere, but ... He wouldn't do that."
"Wouldn't do what, Sam?" asks Dean worriedly, even though he knows his brother won't hear him.
"I know that's where he used to be, Jody, but..." Sam's voice becomes unsteady, and it dawns on Dean. Jody thinks Dean was mad at Sam and would have gone to the nearest strip club, getting drunk, getting laid; and maybe she's right and the old Dean would have done just that.
Only a) the old Dean would definitely have taken his car for it, and b) the old Dean doesn't exist anymore.
"I wouldn't do that, Sam," he whispers to Sam. "No matter what, I wouldn't do it."
Sam bites down on his lower lip. "No, Jody, I am sure. But thanks for your help. Please let me know if you hear from any hospitals." Jody seems to be advising him of something and Sam nods. "I'm going to lie down for a few hours, then I'll keep looking."
Sam hangs up and exhales heavily. Dean watches his brother start walking again, while he himself runs towards the MOL's storage area.
Frantically, he searches for the bottle to read the whole label this time. Please don't have page two, he mumbles to himself as he rubs at the thin paper. But of course, the rubbing causes a second page to come off, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Dean now reads the entire description ... for 24 hours, though some participants remain invisible for multiple days, so this sample is recommended only for examination, but not for use.
Shit.
Dejected, Dean has no choice but to go to his brother, somehow make it clear to him that he has accidentally taken a sip of the potion, and then look for a solution together. To avoid Sam's reproachful look, he would have rather scrubbed the bathroom of a Wendigo (although, speaking of Sam's hair...).
A good excuse on his tongue, Dean goes to Sam's room, only to find it empty.
Didn't Sam say he was going to lie down? Dean looks around questioningly before leaving the room again.
On impulse, Dean heads for his own room. The door is only ajar and Dean carefully pushes it open. For a moment, his breath catches in his throat. His brother is lying in Dean's bed, curled up like a fetus, with puffy red eyes and his nose buried deep in Dean's pillow. "Sammy." Dean putshis hand over his mouth. He didn't mean for this to happen, it was fun for Dean to tease Sam a little, but not at this price. Seeing his brother in Dean's bed, overtired and exhausted, the worry lines still on his face even though he's asleep--the sight breaks Dean's heart.
"Sammy, I'm here." Briefly he considers just throwing something at Sam or shaking him awake; fuck, he wants to be visible again, like right the fuck now, he wants Sam to hear him, to know he's okay.
And probably it's the most selfish option, but Dean needs to be close to Sam, needs to feel him. He takes off his shoes and jeans and climbs into bed next to Sam in just his boxer shorts and T-shirt.
From behind he snuggles up to his brother, feeling Sam's warmth against his chest. He buries his nose in Sam's neck and wraps an arm around Sam's waist. "Please feel me," he whispers in Sam's ear.
Indeed, Sam moves, pushing his body back, pressing himself against Dean's body. "De..."
Sam's eyes remain closed. He still seems to be sound asleep, but his nostrils flutter as if he is subconsciously aware of his brother.
"Yeah, I'm here." Tenderly, Dean nibbles on Sam's earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from his brother. Sam turns onto his back. Dean props himself up on one elbow, looking down at his sleeping brother. Carefully, he runs the fingertip of his free hand over Sam's features. Dean thinks that not being able to see Sam, his pointed nose, the short, thick lashes, the two small moles, it would kill him. He covers each of Sam's moles with a kiss, before pressing his lips onto Sam's. Warm, soft lips, he runs his tongue over the curve of them. Heat rises in Dean, desire to be even closer to Sam.
Dean pulls his T-shirt over his head and strips off his boxer briefs. Naked, he swings one leg over Sam and rests both hands next to Sam's head. Again he covers his brother's face with kisses, moving his hips so that his cock rubs against the thin fabric of Sam's briefs. Sam begins to push his hips up, seeking the redeeming contact. Sam's cock rises and presses upward against the fabric. Dean looks down at Sam's face, lips formed into a slight O, head pressed back into the pillow, exposing his neck without protection. Dean accepts the invitation, kisses, nibbles, bites into Sam's thin skin, leaves marks and bruises. He has to show Sam that it's real, that Dean is real, has to see himself on Sam's skin. "I got you," he murmurs as he presses against Sam's neck. Dean increases the tempo of his thrusting motions, reaching under himself and sliding the fabric of Sam's briefs down, curling his fingers around Sam's cock and stroking him a few times until he becomes hard and firm in his hand. Then he pushes Sam's cock back so that it slides between Dean's ass cheeks. "Oh fuck, yes." Dean eases off Sam's neck, throwing his head back and enjoying the feel of Sam's cock as it slides between his cheeks while his own member slides over Sam's hard torso. Precome drips from Dean's slit, leaving a wet trail around Sam's belly button.
It's still not enough, never enough. Dean slides a little lower so that Sam's cock springs back and both of their two cocks are touching. Dean strokes both velvety crowns, collecting the precome and spreading it over the thick length of Sam's cock. Then he kneels over Sam, directing his tip to Sam’s throbbing hole and pressing the head slowly but steadily against the tight muscle. The pain is deliberate, he needs to feel Sam, needs to show him that Dean is there, that Dean exists. He needs the pain to make him feel alive. Inch by inch he sinks down, savoring each delicious inch of Sam's shaft piercing him.
Bottoming out, he pauses for a moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the full sensation, and how his muscles work against it. As his body relaxes, he moves carefully and slowly, biting his lower lip and opening his eyes - looking directly into Sam's startled hazel eyes.
Drowsy, Sam tries to understand the situation. Hunter's instinct makes him reach forward and feel the solid body above him that he cannot see. When he looks down, it’s surreal. unrealistic. His own dick is sometimes visible, then again invisible, combined with the familiar feeling of penetrating Dean. "What the..." Dean stops any further words, leans down and kisses Sam with utmost passion. "Ungh." Sam moans out, overwhelmed by the one sense that only lets him feel, but not see or hear anything. Dean's tongue invades his mouth and everything seems to explode. His hands roam over his brother's familiar naked body, fingernails scraping across his back, pressing Dean against him. He smells Dean, coffee, leather, home. And he tastes it, tastes Dean's tongue against his. His hands wander up, reach into short, soft hairs he can't see, and pulls. His hips push forward, seeking the familiar spot with which he satisfies Dean like no other. Hard, unyielding, desperate, he continues his thrusts.
Dean moans, almost screams, and Sam does not hold back. Dean feels the desperation and relief with each thrust. "I'm here, I'm here." Dean pleads against Sam's lips, feeling Sam's long fingers dig into Dean's hips, and he spreads his legs wider, needing to feel him even deeper. "Dean," Sam cries out as he unloads deep inside Dean, and it's the certainty that his brother senses him that sends Dean flying over the cliff as well. White beads of pleasure shoot out from nowhere and down over Sam's torso, letting Sam know that Dean has come as well.
Out of breath, Dean slides to the side, but continues to seek contact with Sam's body. Sam turns on his side, his cock eventually sliding softly out of Dean's body, leaving an empty space that Dean is not comfortable feeling. Sam also closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the post-orgasm haze.
Then Sam once again opens his eyes , but they seem to stare aimlessly around. "I'm sorry, Sam." His brother can't hear the words, but he glances at his shoulder over which Dean's breath tickles Sam's skin.
Then Sam raises a hand, feeling his way forward until he feels the resistance of Dean's body. He probes every nook and cranny, painting an imaginary picture in front of him, stroking Dean's face. Sam places his hand on Dean's cheek. They both lie close together, Sam feeling Dean's breath on his face.
Sam sighs softly before speaking.
"I guess something didn't go according to plan here?"
Dean nods, Sam feels the movement through his hand.
"Okay." Sam pauses for a moment before continuing to speak. "Walking through these halls and not seeing you, that's my worst nightmare. And if I'm pissed because you're charging ahead again and risking your life, it's because I want to avoid feeling like this. Do you understand that?" Sam feels Dean nod, and shortly after, a warm hand resting on his own cheek. They both feel each other, feel each other's breath, each other's heart beating. The Winchester way of saying I love you.
"Good," Sam finally says. "We'll look for a solution tomorrow, together. And Dean... invisible or not, you will clean the damn bathroom."
Dean bites Sam's thumb.
Sam laughs.