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Title: Confessions of a Twenty-Something Internet Addict, or Why Sam Winchester Absolutely Cannot Live Without His Laptop
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kowaiyoukai
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warning(s): crack!fic, language, fangirl!Sam, clueless!confused!horrified!Dean, cosplay, major anime and video game references.
Spoilers: I highly doubt it.
Word Count: 4,760
Challenge: [livejournal.com profile] siriuslyyellow, Nintendo Wii, motel, take-out, "That is blatant cheating!"
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. No profit is being made from this fanfiction.
Beta Acknowledgment: [livejournal.com profile] siriuslyyellow. Yeah, it's for her, but we live together so them's the breaks.
Summary: Sam has a secret obsession.
A/N: Written for the May 2008 round of [livejournal.com profile] wincest_fic. So this is a funny story, actually. I was all like, hmm, where would Sam and Dean be playing the Wii at? Because a motel obviously wouldn't have one. And then it HIT ME IN A FLASH OF INSPIRATION AND FANGIRL. So now this is my first ever crack!fic, and I hope you enjoy, and if you don't get it that's all right. It's probably better if you don't get it anyway. -_-;;





"But I just don't get it!" Dean yelled. He was standing in front of the table in their small motel room, looking at Sam with his eyes narrowed.

"You don't have to get it," Sam replied. He was sitting at the table, eyes glued to the laptop that was in front of him.

Dean was getting real sick and tired of putting up with Sam's bullshit. "Dude," Dean said, throwing his hands in the air. "What kind of middle school answer is that?"

"Am I supposed to answer that question?" Sam replied, eyes still stuck on his laptop.

He was real sick and tired of it. "Hey," Dean barked out, stepping closer to Sam and slamming a hand down on the table.

Sam immediately grabbed hold of the laptop with both hands and glared up at Dean. "Don't do that!"

"What is it with you and this damn laptop, anyway?" Dean asked, glaring right back. "You're always on it—"

"So what?" Sam asked, cutting Dean off. "So I'm not allowed to go online or something?"

"Not when someone's trying to talk to you, you're not." Dean shook his head and made to grab at the laptop. Sam looked horrified and clutched at it, bringing it down off of the table and setting it on his lap.

"Don't do that, I said," Sam practically yelled, running a hand over the edge of his laptop lovingly.

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "What's so great about your stupid laptop, anyway?!"

Sam glared at Dean. "I've told you before. I'm looking up hunts for us."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No way are you looking up hunts twenty-four seven. You're on that thing way too long for it to be just that."

"Dean—"

"First I thought, you know, porn," Dean said, shrugging his shoulders and waving his hands in an "it's-so-obvious" gesture.

"Dean--"

"But no way are you looking at porn all the time, either." Dean shrugged again, shaking his head quickly. "Everybody's got limits."

"Would you shut up?"

"So, what is it, Sammy?" Dean said. He took a step forward and Sam tightened his grip even further on his precious laptop. "What's got you so obsessed that you never get off that thing?"

Sam typed something very quickly and then closed his laptop. "I'm off it now." Dean scoffed and then Sam continued, "And I've got information for us. A hunt."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

Sam smirked. "I told you I was doing work."


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Dean was standing outside a convention center in New Mexico, wondering what the hell he was doing. He had on a normal black shirt and a pair of black pants, but Sam had insisted that he pin these stupid looking pieces of gray fabric to the knees of his pants, and they hung around down to his ankles. Plus, Sam had gotten him to wear a short white shirt over the black shirt, and the white shirt had these dumb checkered parts around the shoulders. The collar of that shirt was red and thick. Sam had also cajoled him into wearing a matching checkered wristband on his left wrist and a weird necklace that had a pendant that looked like four arrows all pointing in different directions in this X shape. Worst of all, Sam had stuffed a blond wig onto him, so that he now had blond spiky hair that moved around when he titled his head too much in any one direction.

"Sam," Dean said, keeping his voice very quiet and contained. "What's going on?"

Sam looked at Dean with a big, goofy grin on his face. "What? What's wrong?" he asked, apparently completely oblivious to the plethora of things that Dean could label as being wrong. Sam was wearing a long black trench coat that only zippered half-way down, and he was wearing leather pants and boots underneath that. His trench had a hood on it that he had left down, and he was also wearing black gloves. He was even wearing make-up—one black upside-down triangle was painted onto each of his cheeks. But worst of all, and far more noticeable, was the enormous red wig Sam had on. It was spiky and long and Dean wondered where he could have possibly gotten it from.

"Why did we need to wear these ridiculous outfits again?" Dean asked, moving to scratch at his wig.

"Don't do that, you'll mess it up," Sam said, slapping Dean's hand away. "I already told you. We're on a hunt."

Dean nodded. "Right. But, what's the hunt?"

Sam looked away awkwardly and pointed at the convention center. "It's in there."

"I figured," Dean replied. "Seeing as how we're standing outside and all. But, what is the hunt? Is it a ghost? Monster? Demon? Evil vampires? What?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. After a minute, he stopped and then began to walk towards the doors.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, stomping after him. "Don't ignore me!"

Sam opened the door and walked inside. Dean took a minute to huff and be generally pissed off before he followed. Once he was inside, Sam was right there, shoving a small piece of paper at him.

"What?" Dean asked, looking down at the paper.

"It's a ticket. Hold on to it. Don't lose it," Sam warned and shoved his own ticket into his pants.

It seemed like Sam was about to say something else, possibly explain what the hell was going on, when a high-pitched shriek sounded from down the hallway. Dean turned, cursing himself for not bringing a gun, and scanned the hallway for any signs of trouble. He saw a large group of screaming people headed their way.

"Shit, Sam, what's going on?!" Dean shouted, trying to look past the crowd to see what the danger was. "Seriously, I can run out and get the shotgun!"

Sam had the oddest look on his face. It was a mixture of glee and triumph. Dean looked at him and then smacked him over the head, hard.

"Dude, what is with you?!" Dean said, and then he began running towards the enemy.

Sam grabbed onto his arm and pulled him back before he got very far. "No, let's just go this way," Sam said, and dragged Dean over to a nearby wall that was away from the doors. "Oh, and here, you'll need this."

Out of what appeared to be his ass crack, Sam dragged three plastic… things. One appeared to be a huge key with a strange design on it and a chain dangling from one end. The other two were exact copies of each other, and they were these weird sort of round-ish things with points on them in red and black. Sam shoved the key at Dean, who grabbed onto it without thinking.

"Dude, seriously, where did you put those? I mean, where were they hiding on you?" Dean asked, staring at Sam in horror.

"Don't worry about it," Sam said, shrugging off Dean's question. "I used my hammer space."

"Your what?!" Dean asked, getting really pissed off now.

"Just pose," Sam said. He suddenly stood straight up and put his feet shoulder-width apart, and held one of the circle things in each of his hands as he held his arms down his sides but a little separate from his body. Dean gave him an incredulous look, but Sam simply rolled his eyes and said, "There's no monster, Dean. Just do it, I'll explain later."

"What do you mean, there's no mon—" Dean was interrupted from his fuming rant by the crowd of people, who he now could see were almost all of the female persuasion, stopping in front of him and Sam.

"Um, excuse me," one of the ones in front said. Dean assumed she spoke for the whole mob. "Would it be all right if I took a picture?"

Sam grinned and said, "Sure." He nudged Dean and then said, "Just a minute. He's new at this." Sam looked at Dean and said, "Here, just mimic this pose." The he stood to one side and had his arms up as if he was holding a sword pointed in front of him. Dean did it, and Sam said, "Yeah, now just point your keyblade like a sword."

"My what?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Your keyblade." He gestured at the huge key in Dean's hand. "Obviously, the key I gave you."

"Oh, obviously," Dean replied, glaring at Sam. It was when he had finally gotten into the position Sam had wanted him to that he noticed the picture-taking had already commenced.

"Just stand still," Sam said. "And look like you want to rip their clothes off."

"What," Dean said, and looked confused and somewhat perturbed.

"Oh my God!" The scream came from down the hall, and Dean would have turned except that it was followed immediately after by Sam elbowing him.

"Don't move, I said." Sam elbowed him again. "No matter what happens." Then Sam deliberately did the exact opposite of what he had ordered Dean to do, and reached into somewhere and pulled out a camera. "Excuse me, could you get a few for us?"

One of the girls reached forward and grabbed the camera. "Sure," she said, and immediately began snapping more photos with the two cameras that were now in her possession.

"Okay," Sam said, and then he posed differently, causing several of the girls to squeal like pigs or those fire alarms in some schools. "New pose, Dean. Do something else that looks sexy."

"What," Dean said again, and ended up just putting the tip of the huge key on the ground in front of him and leaning on it.

"Do you guys yaoi?" a girl asked, and Sam immediately shook his head.

"Sorry, but no," he said.

The girl looked disappointed, but then perked up a bit and asked, "Well, could you move closer together and maybe put an arm around his shoulder then?"

Sam jerked his head to the side and said, "Sure, yeah, okay. Come here, Dean."

Then Sam put his arm around Dean's shoulders and moved so that his head was right next to Dean's. He said, "Put your arm around my waist, and look like you want to have sex."

"What," Dean said yet again. But he wrapped his arm around Sam's waist and tried to think about sex. Which actually wasn't too hard at all, and it seemed like the right thing to do, if the girls jumping up and down and clutching onto each other were any indication.

After almost a half hour, and countless poses, Dean said, "Look, this has been great and all, but I'm leaving now."

He walked away, and the crowd parted to let him pass. He heard Sam say, "We'll be around later, don't worry." Then Sam was beside him and directing him. "Here," he said, pulling out a map from God-knew-where and pointing to a hallway. "We're here, and we want to be here," he said, pointing to a room.

"What's going on," Dean stated, demanding an answer in his best I'm-your-big-brother-don't-fuck-with-me voice.

"I'll explain later, I said," Sam responded, and then walked faster so that Dean would either have to speed up or let him go.

Dean walked faster and cursed the damn heavy key he was still dragging around.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


"No way," some random guy said, clapping Sam on the back. "You're br0y4yg33kb0y?"

Sam nodded, glee obvious for anyone to see spread across his face. "I didn't know you were coming, haloaddict4life!"

"LOL," the guy said, shaking his head and not laughing at all. "Call me George."

"I'm Sam."

"Good to finally meet you in person, Sam," George said. "Hey, there's a furious match going on, want in?"

"Yeah," Sam said, following George towards where a bunch of people were crowded around a huge monitor. Four of the people in the front were waving their hands around wildly, holding what looked like white sticks in each hand. They were gesturing frantically, almost hitting each other in the process.

"Dude," Dean said. He walked up behind Sam and pushed him in the shoulder. "Did you forget about me?"

Sam waved a hand behind him. "Shh, Dean, just—go away for a while."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "What."

Sam's eyes widened and he pumped a fist in the air, just like the rest of the people around them were doing. "Yeah!" Then he started gesturing with his hands wildly, as if he could alter the characters on the screen by doing so. "No, no, no! That way, that way! Gah, watch out, he's gonna—oooohhh…"

"Sam," Dean said. "I am getting really tired of this. What is going on?"

"Who's got next round?" someone called, and Sam's hand shot up into the air.

"We've got it," Sam called, before anyone else could. Two other people called out, and then there was a lot of shuffling as people moved around so that Dean and Sam could get to the front of the crowd. "Come on, let's play," Sam said, and shoved two white sticks into Dean's hand.

"Dude, I haven't played video games since I was like, eight," Dean said, shuffling uncomfortably.

Sam held the two sticks a certain way and Dean copied it, already nervous about performing in front of so many people.

"Wait, what are we playing? How do the controls work?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's Super Smash Bros. Brawl for the Nintendo Wii, Dean." He sighed. "Honestly, do you even know what year we're in?"

Dean looked up at the screen to find that he was the last one left who needed to pick a character. Sam and the other two guys were alternating between staring expectantly at the screen and at him. Dean quickly looked at the three characters that had been taken: Peach, that chick in the pink dress who was always getting saved by Mario; Marth, some gay-looking dude in a cape with blue hair; and Toon Link, this little cartoony guy in a green dress. Dean snorted at the choices. It would be so easy to crush them. He picked Donkey Kong, who he recognized and knew would be close to impossible to beat.

Two seconds later, Dean was horrified.

"She knocked me off the screen," he said, still shocked at this completely unforeseen turn of events. "With an umbrella."

He started jabbing at the controls and then waving his hand around, hoping to somehow control Donkey Kong, but every time he got close to another character, they picked up some random object and either knocked him down or tossed him off the screen.

"What the fuck," Dean said, still mashing buttons. Everyone else who was playing was screaming or cursing, but Dean couldn't pay attention to what they were saying. He had his own problems to worry about. "Stop—shooting—at—me!" he shouted, enunciating each word with a punch in Toon Link's face. From across the screen, something like a missile shot at him, knocking him off the platform again. "What the—that is blatant cheating! I wasn't even anywhere near you! He's not allowed to do that." Dean elbowed Sam. "Can he do that?"

Sam nodded. "Oh yeah."

After the game was over, Dean gave up his controller to the next player and waited for Sam on the edge of the crowd. Sam came over a few minutes later, still grinning.

"I won," he said, smugly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "No, you didn't. The chick won."

Sam gave Dean a look. It was supposed to give off the impression that Sam thought Dean was an idiot, but with the red wig and make-up on, Dean just thought Sam looked retarded.

"I was Peach," Sam said, shaking his head. "Duh."

"Duh?" Dean repeated, incredulously. "What do you mean, duh?"

"I mean, I was third player and you could tell third player was Peach." Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Honestly."

Dean bristled. "Honestly, what?" he asked, ready to defend himself as the only sane person in this whole building.

Sam shook his head. "Everyone knows Donkey Kong is hard to win with. You're such a loser, Dean."

Dean opened his mouth and then waited a second before replying, "Me? I'm the loser?"

"Well, you didn't win, did you?" Sam said, and then pulled out his map once again from thin air. "Come on, we're going to the dealer's room next." He stalked off once again.

"I'm not a loser," Dean said to his back, and then pouted as he followed Sam out.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The dealer's room, which had no drugs at all in it much to Dean's surprise, was filled with what appeared to be completely useless pieces of plastic with cartoon characters stuck on them. Most of these pieces of plastic were being sold for $49.99 and up, and people were just lining up to get them.

Sam, thankfully, had not yet gone completely insane. He was looking at a table filled with books. They were thin books that looked sort of like magazines, and Dean just hung around by the table and let him have at it.

The woman behind the table, who was middle-aged and looking at Dean and Sam as if they were not wearing any clothing, was conversing with Sam about something that Dean had lost track of. He had been standing there for several minutes, though, and he was beginning to get bored, so he listened in as they began speaking again.

"This artist doesn't censor anything," the woman said, motioning to one of the five books they had picked out of the possibly hundreds she had stacked on the side. "Plus, her lines are really crisp and clear. You can see everything."

"Hmm," Sam said. He picked up the book and began flipping through it, stopping occasionally at one page before he kept flipping. "How much is this one?"

"Normally $49.99," she said.

"I knew it," Dean muttered.

"But today everything's on sale, so it's only $39.99."

Sam's face lit up. "Wow, really? That's a steal!"

"Deshou?" The woman nodded as if she had not just spoken in gibberish, and then she continued, "We've got some other hot Ed/Al, if you're looking."

Sam nodded. "Sure. How about Itasasu?"

She bit her lower lip and began rummaging through the pile of books, which Dean now noticed spread behind her and under the table and in bins beyond that.

"I know I've got some somewhere," she muttered. After a minute, she pulled out a few more books, and began searching through them. "Ah ha, here," she finally said, putting one down in front of Sam. "This one's a special edition. Ten different artists made a collab, and it's uncensored, too."

Sam picked it up and put it down on top of the other book he was obviously intent on buying. "Do you have any Yakeru? Or maybe Seimei/Ritsuka?"

She smirked. "You've really got a brother fetish, huh?"

Dean's mouth dropped open. "What."

Sam blushed. "Uhh… no. Do you or don't you?"

"Yeah, of course," she said, and began to dig around again. "Do you like twincest too?"

"What?!" Dean shrieked, hoping he was completely wrong and just really perverted.

"Uh, depends on who it is," he responded, and then he turned to Dean. Sam's face was burning red. "Do you think you could maybe go… somewhere else? Far away?"

Dean clamped his mouth shut. "How do you even have the money for all of this?"

Sam waved a hand in the air. "Don't worry about it."

Dean gave him a steady look and then said, "I'll be back in five minutes. Please be done by then." He started to walk away, and then turned back around to face Sam again. "Please," he repeated.

Sam nodded awkwardly, and then Dean took a walk around the perimeter of the room. By the time he made his way back, Sam was handing over a rather large wad of cash to the saleslady, who was spending way too long holding his hand in Dean's opinion.

"All right, all right, let's go," he said, grabbing onto Sam's arm and tugging him away.

Sam followed along until they were out of the dealer's room, and then he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh. My. God." He walked briskly towards a girl who was standing near a wall talking to another girl.

Dean followed him warily. He still had no idea what was going on, but he was sure he didn't like it.

"Are you kokomanabe?" he asked, staring at the girl in abject awe.

"Um, yes," she said. "But my name's really—"

"Oh my God!" Sam shrieked and hugged the girl. "You look exactly like your pic on LJ!" Dean bristled and wondered what the hell Sam thought he was doing. "I just love your fics!" He let the girl go and began praising her endlessly, to which Dean simply stood there with his arms crossed.

He would have to have a word with Sam.

Soon.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


They were in their motel room, eating Chinese take-out. It was a small room with two single beds, and Dean was currently sitting on one of them, facing down Sam who was sitting on the other. They had their weirdo crazy outfits off, and Dean finally felt comfortable in his worn pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Dude. What's going on?" Dean asked, in a relatively calm voice considering the gravity of the situation.

Sam sighed and put his container of dim sum down. "I don't really know how to explain, Dean."

"Well, try."

Sam blushed and scratched the back of his neck with his hand. "I guess… well, you know how I'm always online?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

"Well, this is what I'm doing."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "No, Sammy. I can honestly say I have never seen you act this way before in my entire life."

Sam sighed. "I mean, I'm in the fandom. There, I said it."

Dean's eyebrow maintained its raised position. "What's the fandom?"

Sam ran a hand over his eyes. "Look, Dean, you know when you like something?"

"Sure."

"Like a television show or something?"

"Yeah."

"And then, well, the fandom is when a bunch of fans of the same thing get together to fan over it."

Dean paused. "Okay."

"So, you know, I've been in the fandom for a while now, but I thought I couldn't tell you since you'd get mad and call me an idiot or whatever, but it's really cool and I'm sure you'd like it if you just gave it a chance."

"Okay, breathe Sammy," Dean said. "I like video games, I just don't have the time to play them. Is that what this is about?" Dean chuckled. "Are you, like, addicted to online games or something?"

"Well, not really," Sam said. "I mean, I do play online games, but I'm also into anime."

"Huh?"

"Anime. It's Japanese cartoons. And manga—that's Japanese comic books."

"Oh," Dean said, nodding like he understood.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Here, I'll show you." He opened his laptop and clicked a few times, before turning the screen to face Dean. "This is the first episode of Naruto. It's a great show that I really like. I think you'll like it."

And so Dean watched the first episode of Naruto. After it was done, Dean nodded and said, "Okay, yeah, I liked it. I mean, it wasn't thrilling or anything, but I can see why you like it."

Sam nodded enthusiastically. "It only gets better from there!" he exclaimed, eyes glazing over. "We'll have to watch a few episodes a night in between hunts. Oh, Dean, you'll love it, you'll so love it, you really will."

Dean chuckled again. "Okay, sure Sammy, whatever floats your boat."

Sam grinned. He picked up his dim sum and began eating again.

Dean reached over and picked up one of the books Sam had bought. "So, is this what these are all about?"

"Don't look at that!" Sam exclaimed. Time seemed to slow down for him as he dropped his dim sum and made a desperate lunge for the book.

But it was too late.

Dean had already opened to a picture of what was clearly, and quite unmistakably, two guys having sex. There wasn't really any other way for him to look at it. The words were in Japanese, but they were obviously two guys, and it was really… well, obvious that they were fucking each other.

"Sam," Dean said, voice low. "What's this?"

After a minute had passed without an answer, Dean looked up. Sam had paled drastically. "Yaoi. Um," he said, and then stopped.

Dean had a minute of careful evaluation. Sam liked this sort of thing, the Japanese cartoons or whatever, and he was buying some of it that had two guys having sex. So, guys having sex with each other was something he liked.

"Are you gay?" Dean asked, voice carefully neutral.

Sam cleared his throat. "Um."

Dean looked up and could see the desperation written across Sam's face. His face softened and he said, "It doesn't matter."

Sam was more upset than Dean had seen him in a long time. "How can you say that?" he asked, voice breaking. "Of course it matters."

"Not to me," Dean said, honestly. "Of course, the whole obsession with brothers having sex thing hits a little close to home, but…"

Dean had meant it as a joke. He had just assumed that he had not understood what the woman had been saying at the pornography table. But the look on Sam's face immediately let him know that he had made a bad situation worse.

"Oh," Dean said. Then he shrugged and said, "I was just kidding, Sammy. I don't have a problem with whatever you're into." Even if it was gay incest.

Sam's ears turned bright red and he said, "Oh, so you wouldn't have a problem with me liking you?"

Dean went silent. "Um… do you?"

Sam stared at Dean. "Would you have a problem with it if I did?"

Dean swallowed. "I… no. Yes? Maybe."

Sam shook his head. "Forget it, Dean. Let's just go to sleep."

After the lights had gotten turned off, Dean stayed awake a long time considering.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


They had gotten into their costumes for the last day of the convention, which Dean had finally learned the truth about. There was no hunt here, but there was an anime convention that Sam had wanted to go to. After careful questioning of various people he had come to learn that much.

Sam had basically stayed away from Dean for all of Saturday, which actually had worked out quite all right for Dean. He had looked around and talked to people, and he had come to the realization that this hobby, or whatever it was, was nothing dangerous and not too abnormal, really, and that he would be willing to watch some shows with Sam or play some games with him, if it made his little brother happy.

He also came to another realization. He didn't know what to do about his sudden epiphany, but then an idea came to him, a glorious one. So, on the Sunday when they had to leave, he had asked Sam to get back into costume, and now here they were, posing for pictures yet again.

This time, though, when a girl asked if they would yaoi, Dean cut Sam off by replying, "Sure."

The collected girls squealed in jubilation and delight, but Sam only looked at him, face blank with shock.

"Dean, you don't underst—"

"Yes," Dean said. He grabbed Sam by the waist and pulled him in. "I do."

Then Dean leaned up and kissed Sam, right in front of the crowd of girls who were screaming and clicking pictures as if their lives depended on it. Sam's arms wrapped around Dean's waist, and Dean moved his hands to curl around Sam's neck and face. Sam's mouth opened and Dean took it as an invite to lick the inside of Sam's mouth.

"All right, all right," someone said. Dean and Sam broke apart and looked across, both a bit dazed, at the security guard who was standing there. He looked rather amused, but still stern. "You guys can't do that here. Take it outside."

Dean and Sam looked at each other and then said, "Okay," at the exact same time. Dean grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him outside, the crowd of gleeful fangirls trailing eagerly along behind them.



fin.



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