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You were exhausted, fatigue seeped into every fibre of your being. It didn’t matter that you’d managed a full six hours in bed plus the four you’d caught squished up against Dean in the front seat as he drove you all home. The hunt had wiped you out.
So when you woke up there was only one thing that would get you moving.
Bacon.
You could smell it wafting down the hall, dragging you forward as your fluffy slippers padded along the tile. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, and Dean was cooking at the stove, both pairs of eyes flitting to you as you appeared at the door.
‘Morning,’ you yawned, patting the top of Sam’s head affectionately as you passed. He watched as you reached in the cabinet for a cup and your tiny sleep shorts rode north of your thighs and immediately averted his gaze. But Dean didn’t. He glanced at you as you appeared as his side, eyes dipping to the swell of your chest as you pushed in leaning across him to reach for a piece of bacon he’d loaded up on a paper towel beside you.
As you successfully nabbed a piece and chomped on it you looked up at him grinning smugly before you toddled over to Sam.
Normally he’d have offered you something. A bit of banter, some teasing, a swat on your behind with the spatula sitting limp in his hand.
When he didn’t you hesitated and when you looked up, he was still, like he was thinking before he declared, ‘okay, I can’t do this anymore.’
‘Dean,’ Sam warned, shooting his brother a stern look.
‘No Sam, it’s driving me crazy and don’t pretend like it’s not for you either,’ he sighed.
Then both of them turned to look at you. You’d been nibbling on a piece of bacon but stopped when you found them watching you. You paused, and swallowed a jagged piece of it before you said, ‘…what’s going on?’
‘Sweetheart, you’re killing us here,’ Dean admitted.
‘What?’ you frowned, looking between them. Sam dropped his gaze to the table.
‘The clothes, the flirting, the touching. Everything. It’s torture,’ Dean said, stepping away from the stove to stand near Sam, his eyes locked on yours.
You felt yourself flush immediately, your tank top and shorts suddenly feeling very revealing. But it wasn’t exactly conscious. Well it had been at first. You liked how Dean watched you when you wore something tight or low cut, you liked Sam pretending not to. You liked yours and Dean’s back forth, played like a game of tennis until the room was palpable with sexual tension. You liked making Sam blush. You liked that when you drove home Dean made Sam give you the front seat because you liked lying on him. You liked putting your feet in Sam’s lap when you read in the library. You liked that on hunts you got to pick who to share a bed with, how rock, paper, scissors was now serious because Dean wanted to win this time.
You’d thought it was just harmless fun. Clearly, they felt differently.
‘Oh…I didn’t know it bothered you,’ you mumbled, stomach sinking.
‘It doesn’t,’ Sam said gently, finally meeting your eyes.
‘Then what?’
‘It bothers us that’s it both of us,’ Dean said.
And that stopped any response. Because you hadn’t meant to hurt them.
‘Look what Dean means is… we get it. If this is just a bit of fun for you and you like it but it’s…’ Sam said but he shifted uncomfortably, ‘what I mean is-’
‘It’s starting to become not fun for us,’ Dean cut in, his jaw tight.
‘What do you mean?’ you whispered.
‘Do you really have to ask?’ Sam murmured.
‘We like you,’ Dean said.
‘We both like you,’ Sam corrected, ‘and it’s starting to cause friction-’
‘Oh,’ you said.
You were causing a rift between them. You’d meant it light-heartedly, but deep down you’d wanted more. You just assumed it couldn’t happen because you loved them both so much. Which was why your heart sank as Dean said, ‘so we want you to pick.’
‘Pick?’
‘One of us. The other backs off, no harm, no foul,’ Dean promised. You looked to Sam for confirmation this was ridiculous, but he just looked at you expectantly.
‘Guys,’ you started, but the rest of the words got caught in your throat.
‘Look you don’t need to decide right now,’ Sam offered.
‘But what if I can’t,’ you whispered.
‘What?’ Sam asked
‘What if I want you both?’
‘Both?’ Dean paled.
You could see the shock in their faces. Shock. Like they’d never considered it because who would. They were brothers, closer than that, but still you couldn’t expect them to be fine with sharing, or whatever mad idea you’d stored in the back of your mind hoping you might get it. You watched them shift, that tiny imperceptible to the outside world thing they did when they were discussing something in that eerie ESP way.
It didn’t matter. You wanted the ground to swallow you hole. To get you away from the words, from the shame of admitting it, from them.
‘Never mind, forget I said anything,’ you mumbled, tripping over the bench as you started to flee.
‘Hey, don’t-’ Sam started.
‘Just forget it,’ you said, throwing him a dismissive hand but never looking at him.
‘Sweetheart come on-’ Dean sighed trying to reach for you, but you got away before he could get closer, fluffy slippers thwacking down the hall as you ran away from them.
‘Well that went well,’ Dean grumbled, sinking into a seat at the table.
‘Tell me about it,’ Sam sighed, though as he looked at Dean, the heavy question hanging between them.
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A week.
You hadn’t spoken to the boys in nearly a week. In fact you’d barely come out of your room. You’d heard them both come to your door at different points, soft footsteps, shifted weight. You were sure one of them had even hovered a hand against the wood ready to knock but had thought better of it even though they knew you were in there, even if you had stopped breathing for that minute.
It was only manageable when they went out on a hunt, you could at least use the kitchen and bathroom in peace.
You wished you’d never opened your mouth. Wished you’d told them that you didn’t want to cause issues and would stop whatever it was you kept instigating between each of you. After all you didn’t want to cause trouble. No friction. That was the word they’d used. You couldn’t cause issues between them. If they didn’t want you around fine, you’d leave. It’d devastate you but you would.
You were just on your way out. It was just going dark, but you needed groceries, well rations for your confinement. You’d heard movement, one of them down near the boys’ rooms, someone in the bathroom. So you spied your chance and moved quickly.
You were just past the kitchen door when Dean appeared calling your name. You stopped, hiding your wince before you turned around and offered him a smile.
‘Got a minute?’
‘Oh, um I was just-’
‘Only I dropped something down the side of a bookshelf and it’s stuck, my arms are too big to fit,’ he explained, his face falling as he added, ‘Jack’s out.’
‘Oh, okay,’ you nodded.
Dean gestured for you to head to the library, and you headed that way, your heart flip flopping inside your chest. Only when you got there Sam was sitting at the table, a chair pulled out for you expectantly.
You immediately turned, trying to flee but Dean caught you, a solid wall of muscle as you protested, ‘Dean.’
‘Not a chance,’ he said grabbing you and steering you into a chair opposite Sam.
You sat down, folding your arms across your chest as Dean rounded the table and took the seat next to Sam. You felt them both watching you, but you refused to meet their eye feeling like a moody teenager at a job interview.
‘Okay awkward,’ Dean mused earning himself a glare from you an elbow from Sam whose face was softer, kinder as he explained, ‘look we just figured we should clear the air.’
‘You know so you can stop pouting,’ Dean added.
‘I’m not pouting,’ you grumbled.
‘Hey, I’m all for it. Makes you look cute,’ Dean countered, making your lip twitch despite yourself.
‘What Dean means is we talked about it,’ Sam said carefully, ‘about what you said.’
‘What I said was embarrassing.’
‘Oh yeah, what was it? You have such a burning desire for both of us you just can’t choose?’ Dean mocked.
‘Dean,’ Sam warned, though his mouth curved up in a smile, ‘but yeah that.’
‘What did you say?’ you asked.
‘We came to an agreement,’ Sam said.
‘What is it?’
‘You said you can’t pick,’ Sam began.
‘So we’re not gonna make you,’ Dean finished. You let out a sigh of relief.
‘Okay so we can just move on. I’ll stop flirting, I’ll get it go-’
‘No we meant you can have both of us.’
You weren’t sure which one of them had said it. It didn’t matter because your brain had malfunctioned as soon as the words had come out.
‘What?’
‘You can’t pick. And to be honest, neither of us want to give you up,’ Dean said.
‘I don’t,’ you said, leaning forward your head spinning, ‘what exactly are you saying?’
‘Look were not exactly normal we get that,’ Sam started, leaning closer, hand brushing against your wrist that made your breath hitch, the absence of him this week magnified by one touch.
‘I mean were not weird either,’ Dean said quickly.
‘Yeah, no crossover,’ Sam said, his ears tinging pink, ‘but we can…share.’
‘What am I, a condo in Boca?’ you asked.
‘You know what we mean,’ Sam said gently, his thumb brushing against your wrist.
You looked it and then at him.
You looked down at Sam’s hand, then up at Dean. Dean looked steady and sure; Sam looked warm and reassuring.
‘So I date both of you?’ you asked.
‘If you want,’ Sam said. Dean nodded.
‘How do we…I mean are we gonna have to work out a custody agreement,’ you chuckled nervously. Dean smirked, ‘yeah. Sam gets days, I get nights.’
Sam rolled his eyes.
‘I don’t think we need that. I mean we work and live together. We find our own time with you already I don’t think it’d be that hard to work out,’ he shrugged.
‘Yeah. And if all else fails, we’ve always got rock, paper, scissors,’ Dean joked, pulling a small laugh from you that died too soon. Because you wanted so badly to agree but you could hear their words in your head.
‘What about friction?’ you asked, shooting Dean a warning look before he could offer the retort he wanted to, ‘you said it was coming between you. I don’t wanna be worrying about causing issues. I don’t want you two falling out because of me.’
‘We talked about that,’ Sam assured, ‘we agreed that if anything comes up, we talk about it.’
‘You two?’ you asked raising a sceptical eyebrow.
‘Hey, we can work well together, when we want something,’ Dean countered.
You contemplated it for a moment.
‘You’re sure about this?’ you asked.
Sam nodded. Then Dean.
‘Okay,’ you breathed, squeezing Sam’s hand before you stood up. Both of them watched you curiously.
‘Where you going?’ Dean asked as you started headed back to your room.
‘I’m going getting ready,’ you said, looking expectantly at them as they looked confused, ‘I have a date tonight.’
‘With which one of us?’ Sam asked.
‘Whoever wins rock, paper, scissors, duh.’