fandomhigh | Library [02/11]

Sam decided to take some time to go through the stacks and see if he could find any books that were noticeably out of place.

Okay, Chuck had been irritating the hell out of his shoulder the last couple of days and, while he still didn't want to go to the clinic, he still wanted it looked at. So after he crawled out of the pile of girls he woke up in this morning he went to the library to make Sam check it out.

If he could find Sam, that is. Stupid libraries with their shelves and...books.

"Winchester?" Chuck called out.

By now, Sam didn't have any trouble recognizing Chuck's ~~sexy~~ voice, and he took the time to put the books he'd been looking at back on the shelf before coming out of the stacks. "Chuck? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm here to work on my thrilling literary analysis on The Great Gatsby. The symbolism of the green light and all that," Chuck said, rolling his eyes. "What do you think I'm doing here? I need you to look at my shoulder again."

"What happened?" Sam asked, going over to get a better look at him. "I figured you would have found someone else to help by now."

"Somewhere between the blowjob on Monday and waking up in a pile of girls this morning I seemed to have irritated it," Chuck said as he started to undo his tie.

Hey, Sam had asked.

Chuck frowned. "I don't make acquaintances with too many people in the medical field or people who do...whatever it is you do."

Sam gave Chuck an incredulous look until he realized he was probably telling the truth. "Gee, I can't imagine why things like that might make you heal slower," he said. "And you could always go to the clinic."

"You got me. I secretly enjoy being poked at by tall guys who give me disapproving looks every five seconds," Chuck said flatly. "My secret is out."

"I wouldn't give you disapproving looks if you took better care of yourself," Sam said. Not that he cared or anything, geez.

"I'm touched at your concern," Chuck said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Actually, the concern, fake or not, made him uncomfortable. He liked it better when people outright hated him. Easier to deal with.

Somehow, watching Chuck start to take his shirt off hadn't made Sam realize that he was going to do it here until now, and he prayed for no librarian intervention. "Is your shoulder just hurting?" he asked.

Chuck wasn't too shy about public nudity in any form, no.

"Well, my stomach is upset but I figure that's due to all the brownies I ate last night," Chuck said, shrugging his shirt off. He smirked "But that probably wasn't what you meant. It's just my shoulder that's hurting still."

Sam scowled a little, and went to take the bandage off, just enough that he could check the wound. "Is that how you enticed the room full of girls to sleep with you? By giving them brownies?"

"Pretty much," Chuck said, deciding to take Sam's use of "sleep" at it's most literal definition. "Women like to pretend they're complicated but I know better."

"Some women are complicated," Sam said. "But I guess I just don't know the magic secrets like you do."

"Try not to lose too much sleep over that," Chuck said. "We can't all be as amazing as I am."

"I'm pretty happy with how amazing I am," Sam said. "I mean, I'm better at medical stuff than you are, or you wouldn't keep coming to me for help."

He pulled the bandage back carefully and checked Chuck's shoulder. "You haven't pulled the stitches out, so that's a good thing. You probably just need to lay off the strenuous activities for a little while longer. You know, use your other hand with the ladies and all."

"You want me to say no next time someone offers to blow me?" Chuck asked. And he had been using his other hand, dammit.

"It won't kill you, I promise," Sam replied.

"I can't guarantee anything," Chuck told him. "But I'll think about trying to restrain myself."

"Good," Sam said, unable to resist smiling as he got the bandage back onto Chuck. "You are healing up, I promise."

"Good. I'm getting sick of this crippled crap," Chuck said, laying his tie over Sam's shoulder so he wouldn't have to hold on to it himself while he put his shirt back on.

Chuck using people as furniture was a sign of affection, really. And it was Armani so it totally wasn't going on a table.

"For the record, Winchester, I didn't go to the clinic because I don't want my father knowing about any of this," he said.

Sam glanced at the tie, but supposed it could have been worse - at least Chuck was getting dressed before he could get too embarrassed.

"I guess that makes sense," he admitted. "I imagine he wouldn't be too pleased, so it's probably easier for him to not know."

"Don't need to give him more ammo against me," Chuck said, mostly to himself. He took the tie off Sam's shoulder and started putting it on with a scary amount of skill.

For someone who despised Chuck not too long ago, Sam was really surprised by the idea that Chuck's own father might not be that fond of him either. "No, that doesn't sound good at all," he said weakly.

Library [02/11]

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