Unwanted (Sam Winchester)

3

You have a saying that coffee solves everything, even hangovers and broken hearts. Nevertheless, that morning, it was proved to you that coffee, in fact, didn't solve everything.

When Sam asked you to meet him at your favorite café, you had no qualms, except for the early hour. The night before, you arrived very late from the party and went immediately to bed. To be honest with yourself, you drank quite a lot, and Sam had to drag you out of the frat house by the end of the night. But, what were you supposed to do? You went there to have fun!

You know your best friend, and you suspect that he's mad at you. Whilst most of the night you spent it with Brady, Sam was with Jessica. Back then, you thought that he would be glad you left him alone with a cute girl. Right now, looking at his face from across the table, you realize that he isn't delighted at all. You really don't get it, Jessica clearly fits what you know of Sam's standards, being adorable and petite. So, why is he so mad at you? Was she a bitch to him? No, as far as you could tell, and from what Brady told you, she is a sweetheart.

"Are you going to tell me who pissed in your coffee, or are you just going to stare at me until you burn a hole through my head?" You ask directly, yet Sam doesn't stop or say anything. You take a sip out of your coffee and ignore the deep burning sensation going down your throat. It hasn't cooled off yet.

As you look back up into Sam's eyes, you realize he's still staring at you with a penetrating gaze. There's something in his eyes that seem to be trying to tell you a secret that you cannot decipher. You have always been good at reading each other's feelings, and this time, you don't know if it's because of the strong headache, but you cannot understand.

"Do you like Brady?" The question takes you off guard, he's direct and doesn't sugarcoat it. It's kind of unlike Sam.

"What?" You're clearly startled, nearly spitting your coffee on him.

Sam explains quickly, "yesterday, at the party, you spent a lot of time with him, I know you have a thing for blonds, so, do you like Brady?"

Exasperation clouds your thoughts. You left him with a pretty girl all night, and he wants to focus on your love life? Still, you decide to address his comment. "Sam, just because most of my exes are blond doesn't mean I have a thing for blonds. You know that, right?"

He presses his lips together and his hands tighten around the cup. "Just... answer, please." There's a certain vulnerability there that prevents you from questioning him.

"No, I don't like Brady." You pause to take another sip of your drink. While you aren't looking, Sam lets out a breath of relief. "I do want to have some fun with him, though."

Sam tries not to tense again at your words. It's ok, he can deal with you having fun with others as long as you don't feel anything for them. Or at least, that's what he tells himself. "What about you?" You ask him.

He doesn't understand where you're going. "What about me?"

You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, you know, with Jessica."

It takes an embarrassingly long moment for Sam to remember who is Jessica. "... she didn't catch my attention."

You're more than surprised when you hear him say that. You could've almost bet your money that Jessica was the type of girl Sam Winchester would date. So to hear that he didn't spare her a glance is more than surprising. "Really? She seemed very into you." You explain, then, how she was clearly throwing herself at him every chance she got.

"I don't really care," Sam shuts your thoughts instantly. He's not really sure why he's trying to reassure you of his lack of interest in another. It's not like you like him in the first place. Of course, Sam Winchester is not naïve. He has seen as clear as day that you don't reciprocate his feelings, but he is a firm believer that you will someday. And even if you don't, there's nothing he can do but to love you until it breaks his heart.

"Oh, well, it's ok, we can look for someone else... Jess is not that pretty anyway."

He thinks it's cute that you're trying to make him feel better, what he doesn't think it's cute is that you're trying to set him up with someone. He remembers that, at the end of summer, right before you started college, you told him that freshmen year was going to be bachelor year; that you were going to be each other's wingman into finding some fun. You're well aware that Sam isn't that kind of man, yet you're looking for him to unwind a little. He understands this, but he doesn't really want you to find anyone when the only one he wants is you. Also, he really doesn't want you going around with guys that don't deserve you.

"Can I ask you another question?"

You're almost halfway through your coffee now, and your headache has subsided. "Shoot."

"Do you like professor Robinson?"

This time, you turn deep red. "Sam! He's a teacher."

He narrows his eyes, "yes, that's why I ask."

You sigh, "no, I don't like Mr. Robinson either..."

"But you wouldn't deny him if he's up for some fun," he finishes your thought for you with a judgmental tone.

"Sam, you know what we said about freshmen year."

"That doesn't mean sleeping around with professors!" He half-screams. You really don't like the look that he's giving you. It's your body, you can do whatever the hell you want.

"Look, Sam," you begin, "Mr. Robinson is a handsome man, and I'm not saying that I'm gonna throw myself at him, but if he gives me the time of day, I might not ignore him." Just as your best friend is about to open his mouth again, you interrupt, "and there is nothing you can say to make me change my mind, it's my decision."

Sam's face grows red at your words, and you can tell he doesn't want to leave things like that. He's craving to say something that will either make you see how bad is the idea of sleeping with a professor, or make you choose it more stubbornly. All the possible outcomes for this conversation predict disaster because Sam cannot leave it like that.

He's not blind, he remembers clearly the interest in Mr. Robinson's eyes when he looked at you in Monday's class. The attraction was mutual. His reluctance for you to pursue anything with the older man doesn't come from a place of jealousy. Instead, he wants to keep you safe because he's sure Mr. Robinson will only cause trouble for you. He has heard the rumors circulating around him. He's a handsome man, and there's no surprise that a few of his students have fallen into his clutches. Apparently, it's common for him to choose a freshman each year and toy around with them for a few months until he gets tired. Sam doesn't want to think that it's your turn.

Obviously, he needs to say something to prevent you from heartache. On the other hand, if he keeps pushing, he knows he will piss you off. Should he warn you, even if it means a crack in your friendship? Ultimately, Sam decides it's worth it.

"You need to stop with this idea," he says your name with a stern voice. "It's stupid to sleep with a teacher, and you know it." You scoff angrily, "You need to think better about the decisions that you're making. In fact, I don't even think it's a good idea the whole bachelor year." As his speech progresses, you become even angrier. "We need to focus on our studies, so I won't help you sleep around the campus."

Sam knows better than anyone that this bachelor year has been created with the purpose of becoming a distraction from your father's recent death. So he, in your opinion, should know better than to simply dismiss one of the things that can take your mind off of it. It infuriates you not to have his support.

"Is that your final choice, then?" You ask with furrowed brows, coffee cup cold and long forgotten.

"Yes," Sam answers instantly.

"Alright," you stand up from your chair, and without looking back, you go return to your dorm.