#samjessbrady

So, yeah, Dean wasn’t even paying attention to which of the blondes was talking, let alone what they were saying, as he got closer. Close enough to see the moment Sam saw him. Watched the smile slide off his face in favour of blank shock. Watched his spine go poker-straight which, yeah, the kid had gotten way taller than Dean remembered him being and he hated it just a little bit. Whatever conversation that had been happening died out completely. Dean stopped a few feet away.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Dean,” Sam said, and both blondes got a little more tense. “What are you doing here?”

“You think I was gonna miss your graduation,” he said, with a lot more confidence than he was feeling, and his douchiest grin.

The douche part apparently came across, because guy-blond muttered, “Oh, fuck off,” before turning to Sam. “This is your brother?”

Girl-blonde said, “Brady,” in a vaguely warning tone, and guy-blond said, “Jess,” sugar-sweet.

Which, at least now Dean knew their names.

“Yeah,” Sam said, still with his eyes fixed. “This is my brother, Dean.”

“Cool,” Brady drawled, folding his arms and stepping forward so he was standing between them. “Nice of you to show when you never call.”

Sam said, “Brady,” in the same tone Jess had before.

And Dean knew, he was not actually an idiot so he absolutely knew, that picking a fight with Sam’s friends was the stupidest thing he could choose to do at that particular moment, but his hackles were already up. “You got something to say about it?”

By his face Brady definitely did, but Sam said his name again, this time with a hand on his arm to draw him back. “It’s ok, just- Give us a minute ok. Go talk to your parents.”

Brady scoffed, showed no sign of leaving, but he did hang back with Jess when Sam walked off a bit of a distance, gesturing Dean after him.

“Nice to know you have such a good guard dog,” Dean said.

Sam sighed, folding his arms. “Why are you here, Dean? Why now?”

“It’s your graduation,” Dean said. “I know I didn’t go to college, but I know that’s a big deal.”

Sam just stared, eyebrows slightly raised, and that? That was new. Four years ago Dean would’ve had the chops to wait Sam out, even if it was only just. Apparently normal life had mellowed Sam out a little. Or maybe Dean was just a little on edge.

“I don’t know, Sam,” he said. “I just… Thought I’d come see what you were planning to do next.”

There was a terrible understanding look that crossed Sam’s face. His whole posture changed. “That’s- that’s really it isn’t it?” He shook his head, disbelieving. “You came to see if I got this all out of my system and I’m ready to come hunting again.”

“Hey, no,” Dean said, looking over his shoulder and seeing Brady straighten and turn towards them. “No, that’s not why I came. I just want to know, ok?”

He could tell from the set of his jaw that Sam didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t going to fight him on it. It was good enough. “Law school,” he said. “Still here. I got a full ride.”

“That’s- I guess congratulations are in order?” Dean said. “Let me take you out for a drink. Your friends too, I kind of feel like they’ll follow us anyway.”

“Probably,” said Sam, turning to head back towards the pair of them.

As they walked back, Dean did get the chance to pick on something that had been sticking out to him. “So, what’s with the earrings, trying to look like a younger, gayer George Michael?”

And they must have been within earshot, because Brady’s expression flashed venemous, before he turned to greet Sam with the words, “Everything ok, babe?” and a peck on the lips.

And Sam accepted it. Braced a hand on Brady’s waist and stayed close. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

So that. Was something. Dean cleared his throat, tried to move on. “We were gonna go get a drink and catch up,” he said. “If you two wanted to tag along.”

And yes, they did, both splitting off briefly to relocate their parents and confirm plans for later on, and then they were back. Apparently they took some time to make a plan as well, because when they made the decision to drag Dean to a bar within walking distance Sam and Brady pulled ahead and Jess walked with Dean.

“Big move, showing up on graduation day out of no where,” she said, aggressively cheerful.

“Sure,” Dean said, straining despite himself to hear the conversation Brady and Sam were having ahead of them.

Sam’s arm was slung around Brady’s shoulders, and Brady’s was around Sam’s waist, so they weren’t talking loud, but Dean thought he caught Brady saying, “-so sorry-“.

“You wanna talk about your decision making process there, hot shot?” Jess asked.

The phrase, “-not hiding either-“ drifted back in Sam’s voice.

“Not really,” Dean said. Maybe he should’ve been playing nicer.

“Cool,” Jess said, drawing out the vowel so the word could be a sentence. Then she turned so she was standing in front of Dean and stopped walking, meeting his eyes with an expression that made it clear that she was just as angry as Brady seemed to be. “I need you to know that he’s been doing fucking awesome without you. And if you’ve pulled your head out of your ass far enough to be his brother again, that’s great, but you better not hurt him again.”

And Dean should’ve brushed it off. Should have said, “Sure,” or “Or what?” or any number of ways he could dismiss an implicit threat from some college girl. Maybe he didn’t have as much control over himself as he thought he did, because what he said was, “He’s the one that left.”

“Sure,” Jess said, voice scathing. “That’s how that works.” Then she’d turned and jogged to catch up with the others, tucking herself under Sam’s free arm and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Dean followed. Kept his distance for a little while. Until they got to a bar and settled into a booth.

He’d kind of hoped to regain to equilibrium in the bar. Kind of hoped eighteen years together would trump whatever dynamic Sam had built up with these two in Dean’s absence, that it’d be easy. They were family, after all. Instead it just rubbed in that as far as Dean was concerned the last four years of Sam’s life were a blank slate. That he’d done much, much more than just gotten taller, and Dean was pretty sure he was the same person he’d been when Sam had walked out that door. It wasn’t that it was awkward, he’d always been able to front, and Sam at least made an effort to include him.

He managed to get them to the pool tables, and that made things little easier. Gave him something to focus on. The familiar feel of a cue in his hands, the crack when the balls impacted. And it gave him the smugness of winning - no need to play dumb because, as tempting as it was, if he tried to hustle Sam’s boyfriend he didn’t think Sam would appreciate it. But he was winning, at least until he noticed Jess leaning to kiss Brady in the corner of his vision and missed a really easy shot, and Sam took the opportunity to clean up the whole rest of the table.

None of them acted like anything at all was up, and eventually Dean had to take a cigarette break and Sam followed him out.

“How’s dad?” he asked. Tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure of his footing.

“Fine,” Dean said. “Think he’s chasing werewolves in Louisiana right now.” There was a pause. “This whole thing with- you and Brady, and Brady and Jess…” He trailed off.

There was a touch of a smirk on Sam’s face. “Yeah?”

“I don’t have any idea what’s going on in your life, do I?” Dean asked.

It got a him a real smile. “No, no you don’t,” Sam said. “Look, they- they’re not your biggest fans. But if you do want to know what’s going on in my life, I’d like you to.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, voice suddenly rough. “Yeah- I’d. That’d be cool.”

“I missed you, Dean,” Sam said, quieter.