Just Dandy

Pairings: Andy/Dean

Warnings: GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY gay stuff and some more gay and some crude language that your grandmother wouldn't approve of and a "bit" of smut on the side. And by "bit" I mean a lot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Come on, if I did Andy wouldn't have died.

This is my first attempt at publically writing smut. Sorry.

Just another night in Guthrie. A week ago, a day ago even, Andy would have been out on the streets, convincing old acquittences to hand over their beers and friendly strangers to let him crash on their couches.

But not tonight.

Not after everything that had happened last night. Just this morning Andy had said his mental goodbyes to both Tracey and Webber. Tracey, as he saw the scared, distrusting look in her eyes as she quickly looked away from him. Webber, as an EMS wheeled his body away, covered by a body bag but not hiding what Andy knew laid underneath.

In one day, he had lost his best friend and love interest, and his long-lost twin that he never got a chance to be real brothers with. He'd never get to speak to either of them ever again and get to say the things he'd always wanted to say. He'd never see either of their smiles again or hear their laughs. Even though Tracey was still alive, she was as gone to him as if she had died with Webber. But even though she was gone, he was glad he had been able to save her. Maybe some day, a nice normal guy would come along and help her learn to smile again. But that guy wasn't Andy.

He lit up his fourth bong load, his mind starting to get hazy as the inside of his van blurred through the smoke. He needed to make plans to bury Webber. He needed to finish the job he had started when he pulled that trigger. He needed to do the first and last thing that he'd ever do for Webber as a brother. But right now he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but sit inside his van, parked in the middle of an empty parking lot in front of the remains of a torn down store, and waste his mind until he couldn't think anymore. Then maybe, just maybe he could get some sleep.

He could almost swear he could hear the gentle rumble of that classic Impala that Dean had driven. That car had been a beauty, and a dream come true to drive even if it was only for a short while.

Dean. Dean and Sam blew into his life, unexpected and then just took off as soon as everything around him as he knew it had crashed down and been destroyed. He had nothing left except what was inside his van and Dean's emerald eyes haunting him in his mind.

Dean had been the final snap that pushed Andy to shoot his twin. Tracey was safe for the moment, even if struggling. But the second Webber turned, and looked towards where Andy knew Dean was hiding with his sniper rifle, whispering "I see you" and waving good bye, he knew what was happening. He didn't know how long he had, and his mind panicked, allowing his body to do the only thing that made sense at the moment.

The only gunshot had been Andys. Dean was safe, and that morning, he left with Sam, only leaving behind a phone number and a promise to be back if Andy wasn't good.

The thought made him want to lash out and use his powers like Webber had, with spiteful intentions. How long would it take for him to find out her wasn't being a good little boy and come back? Would he shoot him like he was going to shoot Webber?

A knock on his van door tore him out of his thoughts, making him jump as he scrambled to shoo the smoke away with his hand and hide his bong in front of the passenger seat upfront. Pulling the make-shift curtain shut, he quickly lit a stick of incense as someone knocked a little louder and impatiently this time. Not satisfied with his cover up attempts, he decided to just jedi-mind-trick whomever it was into going away. Especially if it was a cop intending to bust him.

But opening the door, he was struck with shock as he came face to face with emerald green eyes that he barely knew but were already so familiar to him, lined with freckles underneath.

"Dean...?" He whispered, barely believing it to not be a hallucination.

"Yea...Hey..."

If it was a hallucination, it was a damn good one. It's voice was to the perfect tune of Dean's husky voice and even smelled like the gasoline and leather of the impala that Andy had gotten the privilege to drive, even if he had cheated. The impala itself was even parked outside. The only thing missing was Sam.

As if Dean could read his thoughts as he climbed into the back of the van and shut the door, he answered Andy's mental questions.

"Sam's back at the hotel. I just needed to come see you again."

Andy scoffed slightly, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"Why? Making sure I'm being good? You know, I was just wondering-"

"No, just to see you." Dean cut him off with a slight growl in his voice, "Kind of annoying actually. Been a hunter for as long as I can remember. Move into a town, save a someone and leave them behind with a wrecked sense of reality and I've never had a problem with it till today." He sighed. Lowering the aggression in his voice and plopping down on the futon mattress Andy kept in the back of the van as a bed with scattered pillows.

"So..." Dean continued, "How're you holding up?"

Andy watched him carefully, trusting him enough to take a seat across from him, fiddling with the fringes on a larger throw pillow.

"Blazed out of my fuckin mind actually, just trying to forget today happened..."

Dean nodded, staring at the tiger tapestry hanging on the van wall as he scratched his stubble. Andy couldn't stop staring at his hand, watching the way his fingers moved one by one simultaneously across the short hairs coating his jawline. The light in the van was dim, hiding the bright color of his eyes but somehow Andy could still imagine the green vividly in his mind as if he was seeing it right now.

Dean caught him staring, giving him a questioning look for a second.

"Does it help?"

Andy quickly snapped out of it, shaking his head. "Does what help?"

"Getting blazed?" Dean rolled his eyes, exasperated at having to repeat a question, clearly something the handsome hunter didn't have to do twice.

The smaller stoner shrugged, leaning to the side to grab his bong from upfront to hold it out to Dean as an offering.

"Wanna find out?"

Two bongloads better, Andy learned several things about Dean:

First was that the man knew his way around a lighter almost better than Andy, and although he claimed it was having to light bones on fire on almost a weekly basis, he suspected it wasn't the first time he'd used a bong either.

Second was that his lap made an excellent pillow. Andy had reached the warm, fuzzy point of beyond buzzed, slowly getting wasted until sitting up was no longer an option and he had somehow found his way across the van, sprawled out across Dean's legs. How he had ended up like this, he didn't know. But he wasn't moving.

Third was that Dean had no objection to having a man on his lap, which opened a whole new door of possibilities.

And finally, he had a fascination with necklaces. His fingers had moved from scratching his stubble to playing with Andy's necklaces, running his fingers up and down the cords and gently toying with the amulets on each of them. His own bronze amulet hung around his neck, taunting Andy with it's bizarre face and making him wonder what it's significance was or if he played with it the way he was currently playing with Andys.

It wasn't just necklaces. Dean soon discovered Andy's earrings, fiddling with with, letting his fingers brush his ear that caused a different kind of warmth rushing through his body that had nothing to do with the weed. His head was already floating in the clouds, the touch bringing him slightly back down enough to struggle to sit up, gripping the fabric of Dean's black t-shirt to pull himself up until he could actually sit on his lap.

He was somewhat surprised when strong arms wrapped around his back, holding him securely from falling back over. Somehow, this night was turning around for the better. It was at the point of no return. He could sit here content and stay content, or he could push his luck and go for broke.

He went all or nothing, as he leaned forward to sloppily yet firmly press his lips to Deans, almost missing but somehow managing their lips to meet. He felt Dean's lips part under his, an invitation for him to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into his mouth to taste him as he held back a moan.

He tasted like weed and bacon, slightly spicy and leaving him wanting more, only pulling away to take a deep gasp of air. His head was swimming from the rush and buzz when Dean pushed him over, battling for dominance and unwilling to wait for the other man to catch his breath as their lips reunited, grinding their hips together as he moved in between his legs, fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You like bacon?" Andy asked, not being able to get the taste out of his mouth.

"I love bacon."

"Hmmmm can my name be bacon?" Andy almost whispered as Dean slipped a hand down into his pants to give him a quick squeeze, teasing him.

Andy couldn't hold back the moan anymore as he tilted his head back, unwillingly breaking the next round of kissing to do so and receiving a sharp bite on the neck as punishment for doing so as Dean quickly turned the bite into a kiss, sucking gently on the skin under his teeth to leave a soft bruise.

"There. Now everyone will know I've been here." He smirked down at the stoner, his emerald eyes dancing with passion.

"Or everyone will think I'm a whore that'll let any random, handsome stranger suck on his neck..." Andy responded in a sarcastic tone.

Dean rolled his eyes once again in response. "Hey, I'm no stranger. You practically stole my car. You owe me bitch."

He emphasized his determination with another rough grind, their hard erections pressing together through their jeans causing Andy to shudder under him, begging his mind to stay awake long enough to enjoy the sensation.

Lowering his voice to a whisper as he tugged Andy's jeans off, Dean added, "Besides, I'm going to do more than just suck on your neck."

Dean pulled off his own jeans, kicking them aside and practically tore off his shirt with one solid movement, tossing it who knows where in the van as Andy rolled on the floor, trying to mimic him in his stoned state and getting his head caught in his t-shirt. He could hear Dean's husky laugh as he felt him help him unclothe himself, leaving them both naked as he felt Dean's warm body press itself back down ontop of him, his erection pressing painfully into his thigh.

Andy had been with other guys on occasion but something about being with Dean excited him like no one else had. Something about his calloused hands, knowing he was experienced in ways he couldn't even imagine, knowing those hands had killed and had unwashable blood on them yet were gently caressing their ways up and down his hips, drove him crazy with needing him.

He whimpered when he felt Dean start kissing his neck, his erection slowly pressing into his entrance without any preparation, trying to spread his legs and relax his body to accept him inside. Without the massive amount of inhaled weed, he'd probably be pissed about the pain. But he barely felt anymore than uncomfort as Dean distracted him, kissing up from his collarbone, up his neck, along his jaw to his earlobe and back down again, brushing a thumb across his nipple, the other hand firmly grasping Andy's hips to keep him still as he slowly penetrated him.

Slow obviously wasn't usually the way Dean went, the pace was agonizing to both of them, holding back their lust in an attempt to not hurt each other until Dean was finally fully embedded to the hilt inside Andy, breathing heavily ontop of him and locking eyes as if to ask for the permission to start moving.

With an overly eager nod, Andy lifted his hips that now felt numb and jelly-like through the weed affecting his mind and body. He was slightly disappointed as Dean's hand left his chest to hold the other side of his hips to help lift him, grinding him down onto his shaft and biting his lip to hold back a grunt as he pulled out, leaving onto the tip inside and pushing himself back inside with a steady thrust.

Andy immediately arched his back, desperate to find the sweet spot that would make him squirm with ecstasy under Dean as he slowly picked up a pace, slowly gaining speed as the larger man thrust into him, trying to moan his name out loud but never managing to get more than "De-" out in a pleasured pant over and over again each time he re-entered him.

Dean let go of his hips, lifting one of Andy's legs over his own for leverage as he continued to buck his hips against his ass, enticing moan after moan from the psychic, each one louder than the last until his cock brushed his prostate, making Andy practically scream.

His lips twitched up into their classic Winchster smirk as he wrapped a hand around Andy's own erection, pumping it in rhythm with his thrusts, trying to not squeeze too hard as the smaller man writhed in pleasure under him. Andy barely felt his body moving, his mind had shut down long ago, giving in to letting his body have complete control to demand whatever felt good.

Right now, what felt good was arching his back to buck his hips to to meet Dean's ministrations, gripping the sheets under them tightly in his fists as he tried to hold out, waiting to come with Dean.

When he felt Dean's hand tighten as his thrusts become quicker, more erratic and off-rhythm, he knew he was close, finally screaming Dean's name as he came, rewarded with a loud moan from his partner above him.

The next few seconds, or even moments, were a blur. Time was lost to him as he tried to catch his breath, his mind barely registering Dean's body now laying back ontop of him, hot and sweaty and his chest heaving as he caught his breath as well.

"I knew you'd be a screamer in bed." Dean murmured, the last thing Andy heard before he let the weed and exhaustion take it's toll and gave in, quickly passing out in his arms.

When Andy awoke the next afternoon, Dean was gone. With nothing but a note left behind.

Jedi Gallagher,

Sorry - had to go. Be good or bad, either way I'll be back.

- Dean

PS: rocked your van