Chapter 1
“So, am I a ‘Sam-girl’ or a ‘Dean-girl’?”
Sam blinked and looked up from his current find courtesy of Dr. Banner, a Sumerian text on the origins of hellhounds, to find Natasha leaning over the back of the couch, onto his shoulder, mouth close to his ear, and Clint plopping down in the couch next to him, swiveling to prop his feet on the end of it.
“Obviously a ‘Sam-girl’,” Dean smirked from where he sat at the communal table typing away on the laptop, taking a sip from his beer. He looked up and winked at her before going back to hunting for cases online. “Clint’s the ‘dean-girl’.”
“I’m more of a ‘Sam-slash-Dean’ fan,” Clint said, pulling out a blade to flip it playfully, leaning his head back to wink at Dean upside down, never missing his grip on the knife as it came down again and again. Dean nearly spit out his beer.
“Oh my god,” Sam finally groaned, running a hand over his face. “You found one of the fan sites.” Natasha chuckled, turning her head to kiss his cheek.
“Wait…wait a minute,” Dean sputtered. He spun fully around to face Clint’s upside down smirk. “You know Sam and I will never, NEVER, EVER, be a slash anything, right? I mean, I used to wipe his ass, for God’s sake.”
“OH MY GOD! Dean!” Sam’s eyes widened and he turned his head to glare at his brother. Natasha laid her forehead on his shoulder and shook with quiet laughter. Dean gave him an uncomfortable glance and a disgusted shudder, before turning back to Clint, who only shrugged.
“In real life, sure, but some of these stories are really well-written and make it seem pretty plausible.” Dean stood up and held up his finger to stop the archer with a nervous laugh.
“Uh, no. No, no, no. In no universe, fake or not, will you ever find my dick in Sam’s ass.” Sam shut the book and turned his whole body, letting Natasha pull back so he didn’t hit her in his turning.
“Hang on, why is it always your dick in my ass?” At this, Clint chortled and stood up to lean on the arm of the couch, sliding the blade back into the sleeve on his thigh. He smiled widely at Dean.
“Always? Is there something you boys want to share with us?” Dean spluttered and stopped where he was. Sam was now smiling evilly. He slid the book onto the side table and pulled Natasha over the back of the couch into his lap, holding her as she smothered her laughter into his flannel shirt.
“Yeah, Dean. Wanna share?” Sam snorted, his arms wrapped around the petite assassin, kissing her forehead. Luckily, she knew what he meant or he’d have lost his testicles without feeling the initial movement. Dean huffed as the red of embarrassment lit up his face and crawled down his neck to disappear under the neck of his black t-shirt.
“For the record, my dick has never and will never be anywhere near his ass,” Dean huffed, crossing his arms across his chest defensively, not pouting, because men like him, don’t pout. “And there’s nothing to share except that fact. So…,” he broke off, uncertain of how to continue. Clint winked slyly at Sam before sliding up beside the shorter hunter. Dean flinched backwards, nearly tripping on his own feet.
“What about Destiel?” This input from the elevator as Tony stepped into the room, hands in his pants pockets, made them all look around at him.
“Destiel?” Dean asked with an eyebrow raised. Tony waved a hand vaguely.
“Fan ship. Dean and Castiel. Destiel.” At this, Dean narrowed his eyes, but more in thought that in anger. He started to smile before he heard Sam swallow back a laugh and remembered they were all there watching him.
“Cas and I aren’t like that,” he shrugged, turning back to close his laptop. He held his head up, looking at them all with disdain. “But I’d do Cas over Sam any day.” With that, he sauntered out of the room, picking up speed once he hit the hallway to the stairwell, and disappearing.
They all let out raucous laughter then. Tony beamed as he continued into the kitchen with Clint trailing him, heading to make some coffee. Sam snuggled back into the couch, pulling Natasha to lay down on him, her cheek against his chest, her hand laid over his heart. He had one arm around her back, curled around her waist, and the other brushed down her hair, down her shoulder and to her hand, where he wrapped his fingers around hers and they both sighed, closing their eyes, still smiling.