So if you didn't see in the summary this is going to be Wincest, don't say I didn't warn you. On a happier note I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em...they all belong to god..err...Kripke.

Sam picked up the guitar, sliding his hands over the smooth surface and sitting down on the stool behind him he smiled softly to himself. He plucked at a string, his smile widening at the pure note that reverberated out. It was nice, just once in a while, to play a proper guitar instead of the beaten up, ratty one he'd been playing since he was ten. He let his eyes close, feeling his way around the frets and strumming a random tune he'd made up the other week.

He was unaware of the stares he was attracting until someone tapped him on the shoulder and his eyes snapped open in shock.

"Hey man, that was really good," the store assistant said, "But uh…we're closing."

A flush rose in Sam's cheeks as he realised a small crowd had gathered around him.

"Oh sure, yeah…sorry," He mumbled.

"So you gonna buy it?" The shop assistant asked.

Sam smiled sadly, setting the expensive guitar back on its stand, "No, not today."

He stood up, catching the eye of a man seemingly perusing the drum sticks and he looked away quickly, his cheeks getting hotter as he tried not to think about how hot the guy was.

Instead he quickly walked out of the store completely unaware that the man's eyes were practically burning a hole through his back.

Dean was waiting in the motel room for him impatiently tapping his foot, "Dude where have you been, I'm starving."

"Just checking out the uh…music store," Sam said quietly, his eyes flicking protectively towards the ratty guitar case in the corner of the room. It may have been a piece of shit but it was his piece of shit and had been for twelve years.

Dean snorted, his opinion of Sam's 'musical prowess' was something Sam preferred he keep to himself to be honest.

"Okay, whatever. This hunt's a bust, I checked the morgue and there was no heart missing."

Sam blinked, "So no werewolf."

Dean nodded, grabbing his leather jacket off the bed, "So I'm thinking we hit that bar down the road, I need me some grub."

Sam wordlessly followed his brother, horribly aware that even if Dean had suggested they go hiking through the woods in the middle of a thunderstorm he would have still followed, no questions asked.

The noisy bustle of the bar was a complete contrast to the almost deserted feeling of the rest of the small town.

"Looks like everyone else had the same idea we did," Dean said, his eyes immediately drawn to the first pair of breasts that walked past him.

Sam sighed, ignoring the way his hand seemed to have curled into a fist. Leaving Dean to his 'conquests' Sam made his way over to the bar ignoring all the suggestive looks thrown in his direction.

He was on his third shot when someone sat down next to him. Sam almost choked on the vodka as it slid down his throat. It was the guy from the music store. The unbelievably hot guy.

"Hey, thought I recognised you," the guy said obviously seeing Sam's shocked expression, "the guy from the music shop right? Man you've got some real talent there."

Sam ducked his head in embarrassment, oh god did this guy expect him to actively participate in this conversation?

"Uh…thanks," was his eloquent response.

Hot guy held out his hand, "I'm Mark."

"Sam," Sam said, shaking his hand.

"So Sam," his name was long and drawn out on his tongue, "How long you been playing?" He signalled at the bartended and winked at Sam, "And can I get you another?"

Sam gaped, was this guy flirting with him?

"Eleven years…and sure," Sam smiled slowly at him; two could play at this game.

"What you drinking?" Mark leaned forward towards the bartender, in the process coming much closer to Sam.

"Vodka," Sam let his wide grin crawl onto his face, happily at that stage of drunkenness where his inhibitions were being destroyed one by one. He completely disregarded the fact that his brother, who didn't know the small detail that he liked people of the male persuasion, was somewhere in the bar. Probably fucking someone in the toilets by now.

Sam sighed, there were a lot of things Dean didn't know about him and with the kind of sick, dark secret he was carrying about he wanted to keep it that way.

"You do realise what night it is here don't you?" Mark asked after a few minutes of small talk.

"Um…no?" Sam said, confused.

It was just at that moment that a voice rang out over the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Acoustic Night!"

Whoops and cheers erupted from the crowd and Sam caught Mark looking at him suggestively, and not in the good way.

He held up his hands as if in defence, which it was, sort of, "Oh hell no."

Mark grinned, all pearly whites and innocence, "Oh come on, you got talent! Anyway you have a few minutes to decide while the first set is happening."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, and who's playing that?"

Mark just grinned as his name was announced over the microphone and draining his drink he got up and winked at Sam, "See you in a few."

For a moment when Mark's face was just in front of his, his breath hitched and he could have sworn Mark was going to kiss him. But then the moment was gone and Mark was stepping onto the small raised area against the wall, placing the strap of a guitar around his shoulders.

"This one goes out of my new friend," Mark spoke into the microphone looking straight at Sam and placing way too much innuendo on the word 'friend'.

Then he started to sing and yeah the guy was good but Sam didn't feel connected and the spark which had begun to build up inside of him deadened slightly.

A hand clamping down on his shoulder made him jump and his brother's voice jolted through his body, "Hey Sammy."

Dean looked completely fucked out, his eyelids heavy and his clothing dishevelled.

"Looks like someone's been busy," Sam couldn't help resentment creeping into his voice.

"Yeah well, just cause you're not getting any," Dean smirked, "Seriously dude, we've been here for at least an hour! Have you even talked to anyone?"

Mark chose that moment to come over to Sam grinning at the praise that followed him across the room.

"So what did you think?" He asked, his eyes travelling up and down the lengths of Sam's body, before noticing Dean looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, hey, you were great," Sam grinned at him in what he hoped was an encouraging manner considering he had missed most of the song due to the unexpected presence of Dean, and consequently had no idea if he had been good or not.

"Who's this?" Dean practically growled, feeling protective brotherly, strictly platonic, feelings flare up inside of him on seeing the way Mark was eyeing Sam up.

Mark looked equally as confused, but definitely less harsh.

"This is Mark," Sam intervened, "I was talking to him. We err…met earlier at the music store," Sam turned to stare right into Dean's eyes and said in a tone that was bordering on being a challenge, "He says I'm talented."

Something burned deep in Dean's green eyes but was gone in an instant and Sam turned back to Mark placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Don't mind him; he's just my idiot of a brother."

He must have drunk more than he thought or he would not be openly flirting with a guy in front of Dean. Mark visibly relaxed; obviously thinking that there was no competition of Dean was family.

And that, Sam thought dejectedly, was exactly the problem.

Mark leant over the bar smirking suggestively up at Sam, "So how about another drink?"

"Another?" Dean croaked out disbelievingly beside Sam dragging him a few feet away from Mark, "Sammy…what are you doing?"

And Sam definitely must have had more to drink than he thought or he wouldn't have turned calmly to his brother and said, "You've had your fun, now I'm having mine. I'm gonna let Mark buy me another drink, then I'm gonna play a song and then I'm gonna blow him in the bathrooms."

And he turned away, heading towards Mark, completely missing the way Dean's expression hardened and his hands curled into trembling fists.

Strangely not freaking out about the fact that he had just outed himself to his brother he sat down beside Mark feeling Dean's eyes burning into him.

"So I guess I'm not the only one with talent huh?" Sam said leaning further towards him.

Mark smiled lazily at him, their faces now inches apart so each could feel the other's breath on their lips.

"Guess not," And even in the loud clamour of the bar they were close enough for Mark's whisper to be perfectly audible.

"So how about you demonstrate this amazing talent of yours?" Mark queried, eyes daring Sam to say yes.

And a Winchester never refused a dare.

Sam smirked, feeling slightly empowered by the alcohol burning inside of him. He could swear Dean was still watching him, thought he could feel those green eyes boring into his back but he quickly dismissed the notion, Dean was most likely seeking out his next conquest.

"Why not?" He said drawing back and standing up.

Mark grinned and replied, "I'm glad you're doing this for me."

But that's where he was wrong, oh so very wrong. Sam was doing this for Dean, he wanted to prove to Dean that his music wasn't just a 'phase' or an 'activity on the side' it was his passion and he needed Dean to understand.

He'd never played properly in front of Dean before; sure he'd plucked out a few tunes, mostly unimpressive ones from his 'Classical Guitar Pieces' book. And he'd sure as hell never sung in front of Dean before and he wondered briefly, deeply how Dean would react. Would he even care?

Feedback is love, seriously, it's like naked Jensen covered in chocolate...ohgod. Distracting myself there...sorry. Lol.