The Suite Life of Sam and Dean

It was the glow of the TV that woke Sam from his rather restless sleep. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was either 2AM, 5AM, or 8AM, but his eyes were too bleary with sleep to be sure which it was.

He rolled onto one side and rubbed his eyes. His brother sat at the foot of his respective bed, eyes glued to the television.

"Dean... what are you doing?"

At the demand, Dean jumped in surprise and shut off the TV as an automatic reaction. The sudden lack of light made it impossible for Sam to see Dean's face, but he could tell that the man was freaked out when he muttered a sheepish, "Nothing."

"No, seriously. It's the middle of the night. Can't sleep or something?" Sam asked.

"I said it's nothing. Just go to sleep, Sammy."

There was something in that tone of voice, some little, questionable undercurrent of guilt and annoyance at being caught in the act, that piqued Sam's attention. And then the realization punched him right in the face.

"Oh! Oh! Please don't tell me you were watching- ugh!" Sam groaned. He covered his face in annoyance. There was only one thing people did when they were watching TV in a hotel room in the middle of the night, and it was definitely not something Sam wanted to think about when it came to his brother. He knew they were both humans, but Dean could at least have some decency.

"Sam, I wasn't..."

"Yeah, uh-huh. Sure."

"It's not what it looked like!"

"Animal."

"You're just realizing that now?"

Sam threw one of his pillows at Dean with a snort of disgust and then turned around and pulled the blankets over his face. "Just have some decency next time, okay?"

"No promises," his brother laughed.

But something just didn't sit right with Sam. It seemed odd that Dean would be ashamed of watching porn, because, as far as he knew, Dean wasn't ashamed of anything. And then there was the question of the motel they were staying at. It proclaimed that it was the most family friendly room with the best price around. If they were so family friendly, they wouldn't have porn. And if Dean wasn't watching porn, then what the hell was he watching?

It bothered Sam enough that it kept him from descending into anything more than a light doze. His instinct told him that Dean was hiding something. Something he's ashamed of.

Sam grinned. There was no way he could let that slide. Not only would it eat away at his curiosity, but if it were something worthwhile... well, he never did get revenge for gluing all his underwear together a few days before.

Dean's breathing slowed into the steady pattern that Sam had come to know meant deep sleep. As quietly as possible, he threw back the blankets and slid off the bed. He paused for a moment and thanked the powers that be that he had claimed the bed that didn't have a squeaky mattress.

Sam padded over to the television and turned it on. A glance at Dean ensured that his brother wouldn't notice anything; he'd buried his face in the pillows and had the blanket covering his head. Not that he really needed to. Dean was the heaviest sleeper Sam had ever met.

Once routine paranoia checks were made, Sam turned his attention back to the TV. For a moment, he couldn't even move. His jaw simply dropped.

"... Disney Channel?" he whispered to himself. That's what Dean woke up in the middle of the night to watch when he thought Sam was sleeping? The Disney Channel?

Oh, this was good.

This was very good. This was I-can-blackmail-Dean-until-the-end-of-time good. This was I-get-to-drive-the-Impala-for-the-rest-of the year good. Hell, it was more than just good. This was perfect.

Sam turned off the TV and climbed back into bed, biting his lip to keep from laughing. He drifted to sleep, a plan formulating in his mind, even in his dreams.

__________

"Sam."

No response.

"Sammy."

Nothing.

"Sam!"

"What?" Sam snapped and glared up from his laptop.

"Check her out." He nodded toward the red head at the bar, with the leopard print skirt and more foundation caked on her face than they sell at makeup counters. "Ten bucks says I'll have her back in the hotel room in twenty minutes."

"She probably charges more than that by the minute," Sam muttered. "Anyway, we're supposed to be looking for a case right now. In case you forgot."

"That's your job, Sammy," he said, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"Wha- my job? Dean, you can't keep living like some sex-crazed, demon-hunting Hannah Montana." It was a fleeting, off-hand statement, made as Dean walked away. But it stopped the man in his tracks, and he turned to look at Sam.

"What did you just say?"

"Me?" He pointed to himself. "Nothing."

Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion and nodded slowly. "Uh-huh... right."

Sam held back his smile as his brother walked up to the bar. He might be sleeping in the car tonight, but it was worth it.

The first step of his plan had been enacted.

__________

Sam turned took look at Dean, a knowing smile on his face. He counted the seconds it took for his brother to notice him. Dean looked over in confusion, turned his eyes back to the road, and then looked back at Sam again.

"You're really creeping me out, dude," he said.

"I know something you don't know," Sam responded in a sing-song voice.

"That is so second-grade, Sam." Dean rolled his eyes. "How much longer?"

He looked down at the map in his lap and then checked his watch. "'Bout an hour or two."

Silence descended over the car. Both men turned back to staring out the windshield, but Sam could see his brother's nervous fidgeting. His face was like a screen that projected every little tic and frown of his curiosity.

Dean turned to look at his brother suddenly, asking, "No, but seriously. What are you talking about?"

"It's a secret," Sam smiled.

"So?!" He was absolutely aghast, and it was all Sam could do to keep from laughing.

"So it wouldn't be a secret if I told you."

"I hate you so much sometimes, Sam."

__________

It went on like that for a few weeks. They completed several cases, and Sam would spit out references to the Disney Channel that Dean would wrinkle his nose at them in the beginning. But after a while, he began to join in. That was Sam's second step in his plan. As soon as Dean threw in his own references, Sam could accurately find out just how much Dean really knew. And, oh boy, he knew a lot. Everything from That's So Raven to Phil of the Future to Lizzy MacGuire to Hannah Montana. It was almost kind of terrifying.

They were in the beginning stages of a case, where they weren't exactly sure if there even was a case. They'd scrounged up a good amount of money as of late, which meant they were able to afford a hotel with halfway decent amenities.

Dean threw open the door, muttering to himself about why everyone thought he was gay, because spending the night in a hotel room with another man means nothing incriminating is going on. But as soon as he saw the room, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Woah."

There were two large beds that actually looked like they were clean enough to comfortably sleep in, a mini-fridge already stocked with snacks and drinks, and two flat screen TVs.

"I call this bed," Dean called absently. He tossed his bags onto it and walked straight into the bathroom. Once there, he cried out, "Sam! Sammy, come here right now!"

"What is it?" Sam asked as he followed after his brother. The tone Dean used was somewhat worrying.

He entered the small room to find Dean pointing dramatically at the bathtub. "Look at this!" he exclaimed.

"...what about it?"

"It's a jacuzzi tub, Sam! A freakin' jacuzzi tub." He sounded like a kid given free reign in a candy shop.

"Okay...?"

"Okay? Okay?! Man, this is like the Suite Life of Sam and Dean right here!"

Sam began to snicker; Dean was so comfortable throwing around the references to Disney shows now, but it still cracked Sam up. He waiting until his brother was starting up the bath before he began to work on the new case.

__________

A few weeks later, Sam was woken once again by the flickering light and quiet murmur of the television. He didn't move for a few moments as he gathered the sounds of a laugh track and terrible jokes. He didn't even need to look to know what Dean was watching. And now, he decided, it was time to let his brother know.

"Dean?"

He heard the sound of Dean drop something, a string of curses, and then the room was immersed in silence once again. Dean asked in a rush, "Need something, Sam?"

"I know what you're watching Dean-"

"Sam, it's not what you think."

"-and I just want you to know that it's not going to change my opinion of you-"

"Dammit, Sam!"

"-and I'll accept you no matter what."

Silence fell over the room after Sam had spoken. He could only imagine the thoughts that were running through his brother's head. Whatever they were, he thought, they were probably terrifying.

Finally, he asked, "How long have you known?"

"A couple of months."

"A couple of - Jesus, Sam, why didn't you say anything about it?" Dean demanded. He sounded absolutely flustered, and it took a few seconds for his younger brother to swallow back his laughter.

"Because it was kind of hilarious, Dean," he said.

"I swear to god, if you tell anyone about this..." He didn't even bother to finish the threat. There was no punishment apt enough for that.

"I won't-"

"Good."

"As long as I get to drive the Impala."

"What?! No, there is no way you're driving my car, Sam. No way."

Sam sat up and turned on the bedside lamp so that he could grab his phone from the pocket of his jacket. "Who should I call first? I can think of a lot of people who would find this situation pretty interesting."

But before he could even turn it on, Dean leaped from his own bed and grabbed the phone. "Fine, fine, you can drive my car. But if you screw her up, so help me god..."

"I won't do anything to her, I promise." Sam held up his hands in resignation.

"We're never going to talk about this again, either."

"You really think you should be trying to make negotiations?"

"Sam..." Dean groaned and put his head in his hands. "I hate you so much."

"No you don't," he grinned. He flopped back onto the bed and switched off the light. "Now c'mon. I've got a long day of driving the Impala tomorrow. Let's get some sleep."

Dean groaned once again, this time into his pillow, "You are a cruel, cruel human being."

"I do my best."

Sam fell asleep with a smile on his face. He was never going to let Dean live this one down.