Title: Kansas 75, Memphis 68
Author: Dhvana
Rating: R
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: Dean's watching the 2008 NCAA Championship basketball game.
A/N: For those who don't know, which I'm assuming is most of you, "Rock Chalk Jayhawk" is the University of Kansas's school chant, one which we say at just about any occasion but use especially at sports events.

***

"Did you see that? Did you see that!" Dean shouted, waving wildly at the television with the hand holding his beer, liquid sloshing over the sides of the bottle and onto the floor.

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded, his eyes never leaving the pages of the book he was reading. "It was awesome."

"Awesome?" his brother snarled, finally forcing his head away from the TV screen. "It wasn't awesome! It was a fucking travesty!"

"The décor of this room is a travesty," Sam said, glancing around the motel room they were currently occupying, one decorated entirely in a jungle motif. He half expected to see George, Ape, and Shep to come rolling out of the closet any second now. "That's just a basketball game."

"Just a-a-a-" Dean sputtered, seemingly stuck on the 'a' like a broken record. "Sam, it's not 'just' a basketball game. The Final Four? March Madness? Any of this ring a bell?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm aware of March Madness."

"Then you should know this is the pinnacle of March Madness! It's the championship game! It's KU playing in the championship game! The game decides which team is the best in the nation!"

It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. He'd never really quite understood why Dean even gave a damn. Just because the college happened to be located in the same town as the home Dean barely remembered and he'd never even known didn't mean they owed it or their sports teams any loyalty. Still, that didn't stop Dean from being a fierce and devoted KU fan.

"I went to Stanford, remember?"

"Yeah, because that I'm likely to forget," Dean said bitterly and turned back to the game.

Sam sighed and set aside his book, moving to sit next to Dean on the bed. He'd either have to join him in watching the game or deal with his brother's prissiness for the next week. "All right, catch me up."

"Forget it," Dean growled. "The game's almost over. Go back to your fucking book."

"No, you're right, it's Kansas. I want to watch."

"Sam—"

"Just shut up and tell me if we're winning."

"We're not."

"Oh."

"But it's close."

"All right. How much time's left?"

"Just a few seconds. We need three points to even tie the—yes! We've got the ball! We've got the ball! Go go go go go!"

Dean's enthusiasm was infectious and Sam found himself holding his breath as the ball was maneuvered around the court and into the hands of a man whose shirt read 'Chalmers'. Chalmers took a few loping steps to stop at the three point line. With the other team closing in on him and time running out, he lifted up the ball and shot.

"YES!" they shouted in unison as they grabbed hold in a manly embrace, clapping each other on the back as the ball landed neatly in the basket. The score was now tied and the fate of the game in limbo.

"We just have to keep Memphis from making a basket," Dean said fervently, hands clasped together as if in prayer.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Sam agreed, looking at the clock, and he was right. Memphis tried a wild throw for a three-pointer, but it was too late.

"It's tied!" Dean shouted, throwing his arms in the air. "We're in overtime! Five minutes, Sammy. Five minutes and this baby's ours!"

Much to his surprise, those five minutes turned into five of the longest minutes of Sam's life as they watched KU score point after point, with Memphis working hard to catch up and overtake them. While he might not have cared about the team, or basketball in general, he easily admitted to himself he was having fun. He liked being able to share something with Dean that had nothing to do with demons or death or hunting. It was just him and his brother bonding over sports, something so completely normal, Sam half expected to wake up and discover it was all a dream.

And then normalcy came to a screaming halt when the KU Jayhawks won the game and the championship and Dean apparently decided to share his happiness by kissing him. It wasn't an enthusiastic victory kiss on the forehead to be followed by a noogie and a single-armed hug around the neck. No, this was a chests pressed together, arms around each other, lips and tongues and teeth saying 'hi, nice to meet you, wanna fuck?' kind of kiss.

To be honest, they'd been dancing around this for a little while, but the dance had been all about boundaries—defining them, recognizing them, and never crossing them. The kiss went beyond a minor trespass across those boundaries into a complete breach of territory and Sam quickly pulled back.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

Dean gave him a look that made him feel like a retarded puppy and he glared at his brother.

"Yes, I know what we're doing, but...are you sure? I mean, it's a basketball game! You want us to just throw all the rules out the window because KU won a basketball game?"

"Sammy, during this final year of my life, I got to see KU win both the Orange Bowl and the national basketball championship-which, honestly, I doubt any KU fan ever thought they'd see happen in a single year-or ever, where our football team is concerned because let's face it, our football team usually sucks. But that's not the point. The point is you can either help me celebrate these victories with lots of hot sweaty naked sex, or you can go back to your book and I can celebrate by myself."

In spite of his earlier misgivings, Sam's brain had already dissipated at the mention of 'hot sweaty naked sex' and his mouth was quick to jump on board. "Rock Chalk Jayhawk?"

"That's my boy!" Dean grinned, then shouted "Rock Chalk Jayhawk! KU!" at the top of his lungs and pounced on his brother.

Okay, so Sam's secret hidden fantasies about sex with his brother had never been prefaced by watching sports on TV, but after Dean stripped them of their clothes and his bare skin touched Dean's for the first time, he had a feeling he'd never watch a basketball game the same again. And when they reached their first orgasms together, their fingers entwined around their cocks, their bodies thrusting against each other, their blood pounding in their veins, mouths desperately trying to stay connected amidst the panting and the groans, Sam knew he'd never be able to return to Lawrence without feeling his heart break all over again.

"Rock Chalk Jayhawk," he later whispered while his hands stroked the warm skin of his brother's back, trying to imprint on his fingers how Dean felt so he'd never, ever forget.

Dean smiled sleepily against him. "Damn right."

***