Title: Dean Winchester: American Idol
Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Summary - Prompt: Dean has a hidden talent. Sam finds out.
Disclaimer: This thing, whatever it is, is something that I've done but its origins' rights don't belong in any way to me. Hate the concepts? Don't blame the owner - blame me!
Author's notes: I wrote this last night, as a part of the Hiatus of Dean Love, forstrgazr04 . It's not long and I may have fucked it all up from the part of... the... beginning. Meh. I hope y'all like it anyway.
Sam fumbles with the car keys in his left hand while trying not to drop the paper bag containing groceries in his right hand.
He pushes into the main door of the motel November Rain, gets inside, flashes the blonde girl behind the desk a tiny smile and walks to his and Dean's room.
Dean, of course, had had the chance to ask her if the motel is named after the song, and when she seemed baffled and answered that she wasn't aware such song existed, Dean raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
One girl to tick off Dean's list of potential hook-ups, that's for sure.
As he gets close to the door, he can hear a muffled voice singing, and it sounds suspiciously like Dean.
He opens the door without knocking; He puts the paper bag on the large table and the car keys in his pocket, and he notices how suddenly the singing stops short, continued by silence.
"Dean?" He calls before opening the bathroom door.
"Dude, I could've been naked!" his brother shouts at him his greeting.
"Yeah, well, you're not." he notes Dean's bright jeans and long-sleeved shirt.
"What were the noises before?" he adds, leaning against the now closed door and watching his brother wash his face and wipe it with a towel. Dean freezes, the towel still covering his forehead, and then returns it to its place on the white shelf.
Sam snickers. "The singing."
"Singing?" Dean gives him an innocent look that doesn't convince either of them.
"Yeah, it was, like... pretty high tones. Sounded nice."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted.
"C'mon, dude, tell me." Sam is interested even more now that Dean is avoiding his gaze.
"No!" Dean growls. He throws an ugly off-white towel at Sam's amused face and steps out of the bathroom.
Sam is right behind him. "Tell me, I want to know! Deeeeean!"
"Jesus, Sam, stop it!" Dean sits on his bed and doesn't look at his brother.
"Nope. Not until you tell me who was singing, Then I'd let you go."
Dean heaves a sigh. "Do you promise to let me go?"
Sam grins. He nods, then realizes Dean can't see him, and says, "Yes."
"I... um... I was singing before. Didn't expect anyone to hear me, though. Damned thin motel door," he says under his breath.
This surprises Sam. Dean sings? Since when? Well, he'd sung a few times when they were on the road, driving in the Impala, but never really out loud or really good or anything
"You sing?" Sam asks and can't help the amazed tone his voice is laced with.
Dean's rarely shy, and when he is, he tends to either play with his clothes or clear his throat more than enough times. Now he does both.
"Not professionally, but I... like it.. It makes me feel good. Alive."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"That I sing?" He's almost completely back to his regular self, snoring and raising an eyebrow at Sam. "You'd have laughed at my face. Or worse, demanded that I'd make an album."
"Am I laughing?" Sam points at his face, causing Dean to roll his eyes. "But yes, you'd have to record some stuff."
"Shut up, no I wouldn't. Besides, you haven't actually heard me sing yet, you don't know if I'm worth all your trouble." He's quick to find the excuse and cling to it.
Sam narrows his eyes. "Okay."
Dean looks relieved. "Okay."
"What?" he retorts back.
"What do you want me to sing?"
"I don't know."
"I don't care."
Dean gives Sam an angry look, but Sam knows he's about to hear his brother's singing voice for the first - real - time, so he shrugs his shoulders and sends a smile in return.
Dean hesitates. He goes in his mind over a list of songs that immediately come to his head, chooses one, bites his lip for a minute, and then starts singing the lyrics slowly.
It's "Nothing Else Matters", one of Dean's favorite Metallica tunes, so it doesn't take long for Sam to recognize the words.
"Forever trusting who we are, and nothing else matters," Dean sings. It's not loud; Dean's voice is quiet - but strong, smooth, dripping honey, and it startles Sam.
Sam tells Dean that he could be on American Idol if he wanted - to which Dean replies with a this thing's full with dumbshits.
"Well," Sam wraps a hand around Dean's shoulder; Dean shrugs it off and kicks in Sam's leg's general direction. "Hetfield would be proud."