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Sam had been living with Dean for pretty much his whole life. And he shared a room with him for most of that time. They had suffered through nightmares, sleepless nights, food poisoning and worse still- wet dreams a few feet from each other. So, they had built up tolerances most people couldn’t dream of, they had come up with creative ways to give each other privacy and space.
They had spent years perfecting the system.
Sam got the bathroom first in the mornings, mostly due to Dean not being an early riser. Dean got the bed furthest from the door, so Sam could go running in the morning and not disturb him. Sam got to use the car if he had a date. Dean was in charge of making the coffee cause he was just better at it.
And they put a sock on the door if the room was occupied. Not very original but why reinvent the wheel.
Sam had returned to the motel for the last 4 nights to find Dean’s sock on the door.
He was impressed on the second night, slightly baffled on the third but the fourth night was just ridiculous. But there it was- Dean’s Chewbacca sock. He was tired of having to kill time while Dean was banging a new floozy every night. They had a case to work on and he needed a full night’s sleep.
Tonight, he walked up to the door and was relieved to see no sock. Thank Chuck. He walked in and shucked his coat off. Dean was watching a rerun of his cheesy medical show- Sam knew because he had seen the episode with Dean- Dr. Piccolo almost loses her license for sleeping with a patient.
“Not pulling tonight? You had a nice streak going there. Four for four. Not bad old man” Sam joked as he flopped down on his bed.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, four… yeah.” Dean looked over at Sam and then back to the screen. “You know me – regular Casanova.”
Sam thought something was off, Dean liked to share. He liked to overshare the details of his sordid conquests. But he was too tired to pry.
They worked the case for a few hours and then Dean got a text. He texted back and forth a few times and he looked all dopey when he put the phone back in his pocket.
“Who was that? No. 1,2,3 or 4? “
“What?” Dean looked confused.
“Your pen pal?” Sam nodded at the phone.
“S’nothing” Dean dismissed him. “I got a thing though. See you tomorrow?” He got up and pulled his coat on before Sam could get a word out Dean was pulling the door closed behind him.
“So, five for five then,” Sam thought- not jealous at all.
The next week they were in a small town near the Idaho border working a string of what seemed to be werewolf attacks. Sam had spent the afternoon in the records office trying to find information about their suspect and was looking forward to a long shower.
He strolled across the parking lot and just before he reached for the door- there it was again- a wool sock covered in pie slices.
“What the hell” he muttered. It was barely dark, how had Dean already lured some girl back to their room?
Two days later they were making their way back to the bunker and decided to pull over for the night in Colorado- they had both been better. Dean had a broken wrist and Sam was pretty sure half of his ribs were fractured.
They booked a double in some wide spot on the road and Sam went out looking for food. He had to go pretty far- turns out there wasn’t a diner for 30 miles. When he parked in front of the room with his salad and Dean’s double cheeseburger he was utterly dismayed when the headlights landed on the door. Clearly illuminating the sock covered in the Stark Wolf banner on the handle.
“You have got to be kidding?” Sam mumbled. He glanced back at the dive bar across the lot – no doubt where the flavor of the day had come from and resigned himself to a night of drinking.
They weren’t at the bunker long – the phone rang when they were unpacking. A wendigo in Vermont.
The following day they were booking a room in Ohio – almost halfway.
“Should I just get my own room?” Sam tried to joke but it fell a little flat.
“Why?” Dean shot back as he handed the desk clerk his fake card.
“I don’t know- so you can do your thing? “Sam mumbled.
“What are talking about?” Dean asked as they strolled back to get their bags.
“You know- your mid-life crisis or whatever.”
Dean gave him a hard look “Come again?”
“Seriously -you with the…all the sex” he felt so awkward, they had the system so that they didn’t have to talk about these kinds of things, but this was getting ridiculous.
“You jealous?” Dean smirked back.
“No Jerk just worried I guess.”
“Whatever, Bitch. It’s not my fault I’m irresistible” Dean swaggered ahead and plopped down onto his bed. He pulled out his phone and started texting. Getting that same look on his face.
They had to get a cabin at a disgustingly quaint bed and breakfast in Vermont and the case was proving difficult. They weren’t sure they were dealing with a wendigo and Sam was getting a headache staring at the latest crime scene photos. He decided to call it a day and walked back to the cabin a few blocks away.
There on the green door of their mint colored cabin was Dean’s big bird sock.
What the fuck. It was lunchtime. How is Dean picking up chicks for nooners? In rural Vermont. His brother must be going through something this was too much.
This much anonymous sex was just getting irresponsible. He stormed off to the reception to see if he could get his own cabin.
Sam was ready to go home – he had spent the last week getting more and more upset every time he spotted a random novelty sock on the cabin door. Turns out they didn’t have any more vacancies and he had spent more than his fair share napping in the Impala while Dean got his rocks off in a big comfy bed.
It was the last night and they were celebrating in the bar across the street. Sam was talking to a sweet grad student and was having a great time. He was excited that he might be the one to leave a sock on the door tonight. He glanced over at Dean who was talking to Cas in a booth across the room. At least it seemed like he wasn’t going to get lucky tonight.
A few hours later he was practically carrying the gorgeous brunet back to the cabin. She was pressing up against him and saying all the right things. He pulled the key out of his back pocket and reached for the door only to find a Die-Hard sock had beat him to it.
“No fucking way.”
Sam lost count after that. Case after case. Goofy sock after goofy sock. He had all but given up on ever getting the room for some adult fun of his own. He simply started going to the woman’s place after a few months and it was working okay. Surely this couldn’t last. Dean was getting older and there was no way he could keep up this pace. And even if he could- he was bound to run out of chicks at this rate.
They just took out a nest of Vampires, but it did not go smoothly. Dean was a walking bruise and Sam was pretty sure he had a broken nose. He went out to get some painkillers since they ran out earlier this morning. And as he stepped up to the door he noticed something that made his mind screech to a halt.
There was a lot of things about living with someone your whole life that might seem weird to other people. They were close, sure, but they also knew things that usually only married people got to know about another person. Dean’s favorite flavor of toothpaste was spearmint. He bought expensive body wash. He preferred cotton sheets. He liked the room at a cool 60 degrees. He never used the motel towels- he brought his own. He favored dark briefs and he wore only novelty socks.
But there on the door was a plain black dress sock.
His brain only registered panic. That was not Dean’s sock. That must mean that Dean is in trouble.
He dropped his shopping bag and burst through the door on pure instinct.
“DEAN?!?” He bellowed before he knew what he was doing.
“The FUCK” Dean barked from the bed in the corner.
“Dean! You okay?” Sam asked squinting into the dark room.
“Did you not see the SOCK??” Dean growled at him.” Oh my god- you did remember to put the sock on the door, right?” Dean asked the person-shaped lump next to him.
“Of course, Dean” a gruff low voice rumbled back.
“CAS?” Sam’s voice reached a level of squeaky he didn’t know was possible.
“Hello Sam,” Cas said as he came up on his elbows and Sam could see his naked chest, collar bone covered in dark bruises. Hickey’s Sam’s brain supplied unhelpfully.
“Wha…huh…Dean?” Sam couldn’t get his tongue to make words, his mind was reeling.
“Got a problem?” Dean asked tightly, and Sam could see him gearing up for a fight.
“No! Um, no. Uh…wait. This whole time...it was Cas?” Sam got out. “All the socks? That was him, right?” Sam’s mouth started quirking in a smile as he thought about it. For the last few months his brother has been having more sex than either of them ever had and this whole time he was seeing the same person over and over. He was in a relationship. And it was with Cas. Castiel, their best friend, and resident Angel.
“What of it” Dean shot back, looking uncomfortable and worried at the same time.
“Nothing, its great. I mean I’m happy for you. For you both.” Sam said as he smiled at Cas.
“Thank you, Sam. I’m glad you know now, but could you please leave. Your brother was busy fellating me and I would like him to finish.” Cas deadpanned from behind Dean who turned so red Sam could swear he was glowing.
Sam shot out of the room faster than he had entered it.
From that day on he got his own room every time they traveled. And he got a pair of novelty socks for Cas every Christmas as a joke.