It should be said before I really get into it that this author is what I consider (at least by personal standards) rather high profile in the fandom. Simply put, she is amazing and this little one shot is no exception.
It's a curse fic, which I adore; you just don't see enough side effects from the job of hunting, but it seems like curses would be fairly common-place, yeah?
But it's not just any curse. It's a gift.
From the trickester.
Oh Loki, what have you done this time?
Incited instinctual homosexual relationships without either party aware?
Why yes, yes in fact.
They headed out the next morning for a haunting in Kansas City. Dean flipped radio stations along the road over and over, feeling weirdly dissatisfied. "Hey, this one," Sam said, and Dean paused long enough for it to stick. He had a vague feeling of something being wrong, but it faded after a little while.
He was still singing under his breath when he stopped for gas and snacks, and the cashier snorted and said, "You come and go, huh? I bet. Condoms are in aisle five."
"Excuse me?" Dean said, eyes narrowing, and Sam let go of his hand to grab his arm instead and haul him out of the store.
He'd just about let that go, and then after Sam signed them in at the motel that night, the clerk glanced at them, grinned, and slid across a key with a giant brass heart keychain on the end that opened the door to the goddamn honeymoon suite.
"Seriously, dude," Dean said that night, and gulped a breath. "What the hell?" He shifted his weight a little. "Are we giving off some kind of vibe?"
"I don't—know," Sam said, his breath coming out in short little grunts. He grabbed Dean's thighs and hitched them up a little higher on his sides. "Is it—that—big a deal?" He moved some, and okay, there, that was it.
"I just don't get it," Dean said, lying back and putting his arm behind his head. "Why would anybody—come up—with—that—"
Sam wasn't paying attention right then. He had his teeth set in his lower lip and his eyes shut. Dean looked at his face affectionately and rubbed Sam's hair back off his forehead. He felt awesome, too awesome even to be pissed off at people jumping to dumb conclusions.
It's a progressive fic, starting with small things and building up to the ah...main event. Much of what happens neither Sam nor Dean are aware for; they can only stand back with a double-yew tee eff expression. And when at last they realize (with the help of know-all Bobby) it's to late to turn back, even if they want to.