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I Know You Are But What Am I?

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Dean waltzed down the long lane leading up to Bobby’s house with his jacket hanging from his thumb and swaying in the wind as he tossed it over his back. He felt free, alive even couldn’t been a better word. However, Dean wasn’t the one to kiss and tell....at least not now.

He only made it halfway when he heard a rustling to his side. He turned suddenly with his pocketknife drawn, the hilt pressed against his chest in an effort to defend himself.

To Dean’s surprise, Sam stumbled out from the bushes and stumbled in front of him. His hair was wild and his shirt was inside out, but it was definitely Sam. Dean didn’t need to ask to know what his brother was doing there sneaking through the woods at that time of night.

“H-Hey, Dean,” Sam stammered with a hand rubbing hard against the back of his neck and eyes looking anywhere but at his brother.

Dean’s eyes glimmered in amusement. This was one opportunity he couldn’t pass up to give his brother a bit of a hard time. “Doing the walk of shame I see?”

Sam looked Dean up and town, taking in his glittering eyes, less than put together appearance, and one reddish mark that was barely visibly below the collar of his shirt. Oh, he was going to have fun with that one.

“I know you are, but what am I.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed for a moment only to regain their normal look and glitter in amusement. “Alright, touché.” Dean set back on the path, yawning slightly. “Was it at least someone pretty?”

Sam joined his brother’s side, still unable to look Dean in the eye. This was one of the most uncomfortable conversations he had ever had with Dean and that was saying something. “I am not having this conversation with you right now.....or make that ever.”

That was something that Dean could expect. At least that meant that he wouldn’t have to say what he had done either. He was certain the last thing that Sam wanted was to hear about it. Although his brother knew what he got up to and who he chose to sleep with, that didn’t mean he ever wanted to hear about it. It was something that was kept secret as much as possible just so John didn’t find out and give his eldest hell for it. A tolerant man, John Winchester was not.

The two carried on in silence for the rest of the way until they headed in the front door as quietly as possible. The illusion of quiet was shattered when they saw Bobby making scrambled eggs with bacon already simmering on the stove. It was almost 2 in the morning and Dean couldn’t understand for the life of him why Bobby may still be up.

“What are you doing up,” Dean called as he headed into the kitchen with Sam right behind.

Bobby turned to look at both Winchester while whipping the eggs in a bowl. “Rufus won’t stop texting me questions about a hunt. First he thought it was a werewolf, then skinwalker, now he doesn’t know. I swear that man is goin’ to be the death of me. Well, at least if you boys aren’t.”

Sam laughed as he came around behind Bobby and pulled a piece of bacon right from the stove and popped it into his mouth without a second thought.

Bobby batted his hand away with a spatula before turning back to Dean. “Where the hell were you boys at? You look like shit.”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. If only Bobby knew.

“I’ve never felt better,” Dean announced proudly.

Bobby corked his head and looked to Sam to translate.

“Dean just meant that he was probably off boning some guy,” responded Sam as he tried to reach around Bobby’s shoulder to pluck some scrambled eggs from the plate. Bobby turned and elbowed Sam in the shoulder to force him back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Bobby asked.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. This was not where he was hoping this conversation would go. “I had a good time and we can leave it at that. Fuck, do you guys have to know everything about my life? At least give me some peace before I have to get back to the stress of life.”

“Stress of life,” Sam echoed in confusion. “What could that be?”

Dean shot him a dumbfounded look. “Uh, maybe working.”

“You mean at the bar or at the mechanic shop? Not like it’s that hard.”

Bobby shifted uncomfortably at the sudden tension that invaded the small space. He whipped at the eggs in the bowl with more energy as if directing all of his thoughts to making the perfect scrambled eggs would keep him out of this conversation.

“You’re one to talk,” Dean flashed back. “You spend all your day paying to go to school with nothing to show for it right now except debt.”

“Has a point,” Bobby mumbled into his chest.

Sam didn’t seem to see it that way. “But at least my bullshit studies will turn into a non-bullshit career.”

Bobby and Dean exchanged a look. It took everything in Dean’s power not to clock Sam in the jaw right there or give him a piece of his mind. Was this how Sam was going to talk to him when he knew damn well how hard Dean fought to get him to go to school?

“What,” Sam asked as he dug the orange juice from the fridge and brought it back to the counter. “No offense.”

Dean gave a frustrated shrug and turned to walk up the stairs. “Some taken.” He thundered up the stairs without so much as a look back over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him.

Bobby looked back over to Sam as he grabbed a plate and began to scoop some eggs onto it. “That was a little harsh don’t you think?”

Sam shrugged. “Not at all. It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Watch yourself, Sam. You’re playing with fire and you may just get burned.”