Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1035549.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      No_Fandom, Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester, OMC
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-07 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 30801
****** Broken Road Home ******
by deansdirtybb
Summary
     Set pre-series. Sam and Dean fight their attraction to each other,
     until they are no longer able to resist their feelings. But when John
     catches them in the act and separates the boys, will they find their
     way back together?
Notes
     Warnings: Wincest, Underage (Sam is 16 at the beginning of the
     story), verbal abuse (John to Dean), mild violence, explicit sex,
     fingering, rimming, oral, anal, semipublic sex, barebacking,
     boatloads of angst, brief sexual situation with Sam/OMC.
***** Chapter 1 *****

[wbb-banner2700]




(See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)
 
 
 Chapter 1
  Dean Winchester was pretty sure he was going to hell.  It was a thought he’d
had before, sure, what with all the lying, stealing, conning and killing.  Even
if it was evil things, it was still killing and…well, Dean just hadn’t quite
figured that much out yet. But this was different; this wasn’t just against
some stupid law.  He couldn’t justify this with a moral imperative above a
legal prohibition.  No this, this was just wrong…and he was sure there was a
special corner of hell reserved for this kind of bad.
 
 He tried to fight it.  For months he reminded himself it was wrong.  Every
time he looked just a little too long, or let his touch linger he would curse
himself.  Sam was his brother. He could never take what it was he wanted.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Sam was tired of struggling against it.  He had seen Dean’s green eyes go dark
watching him train.  He’d felt the hesitation in his hands when they sparred. 
He knew Dean was his brother and he shouldn’t be feeling that stirring deep in
his belly.  He just didn’t care anymore; their family never followed any rule
that didn’t suit it.  And this rule certainly did not suit Sam, and if Sam was
right, Dean didn’t seem to care for it either.  He just hadn’t figured out how
to get Dean to stop fighting against it.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dad was gone again.  Some hunting/killing evil/saving someone thing again. 
One that was far too dangerous for Sam and Dean but worth John risking his
life.  Sam didn’t even care anymore.   Mostly. 
 
 Dean was on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, head flopped back watching
TV through his lashes.  He glanced over at Sam as his brother handed him a beer
before flopping down on the couch next to him.  He pretended to ignore Sam as
he put every ounce of energy he had into keeping his eyes glued to the screen. 
This task became more difficult when he caught sight of the beer in Sam’s hand
out of the corner of his eye.  He took a swig of his own beer to camouflage the
sudden need to swallow that constricted his throat.
 
 Dean absolutely did not watch as Sam put the beer bottle to his lips.  He
didn’t see the way Sam’s pink lips wrapped around the top.  He missed tracking
the movement as the muscles in Sam’s long neck worked to swallow down the
beer.  He sure as hell did not think about what other things Sam’s mouth might
be capable of.
 
 Sam felt Dean’s eyes on him, and noticed how Dean kept trying to keep his gaze
fixed on the old movie neither of them were truly paying any attention to.  Sam
shifted his knee until the denim in his jeans was grazing the denim in Dean’s. 
Just the merest fraction of friction, the simple hint at a touch sent heat
through Sam’s body, and he took another pull from his beer.
 
 Dean forced himself to keep his breathing even.  His heart was threatening to
tear through his shirt and somehow his mouth was both watering and dry.  Sam
wasn’t even actually touching him and he couldn’t keep the blood in his brain. 
 
 Sam relaxed his leg, letting his knee press into Dean’s leg.  Dean pulled his
own leg back and swiped a hand over his face.  This was ridiculous.  Dean
wasn’t some virginal school boy; he should not be losing his shit over a simple
touch of knees.  Not to mention, Sam was his brother.  And this was wrong.
 
 Dean pushed up off the couch to leave, but was stopped by Sam’s tentative
voice.
 
 “Dean, you ok?”
 
 “Yeah, ‘m fine,” he gruffed.  He managed to keep his voice even, but he
couldn’t quite bring himself to look up from the floor.
 
 “Well, where’re ya goin’?  The movie’s not even halfway over,” Sam’s voice
remained level, but when Dean looked at his brother he couldn’t mistake the
glimmer in those hazel eyes.
 
 Dean felt such a strong pull to sit back down on that couch, let himself get
drawn into whatever it was that was about to happen. But even though he wasn’t
sure exactly what would happen, he somehow knew it would be bad and there would
be no coming back from it.
 
 “Just tired, Sammy.  Goin’ to bed.”  At the crestfallen look that came upon
his little brother’s face he added, “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow.”
 
 “‘K, Dean.  Good night.”  Sam felt a sharp twinge of disappointment as he
watched Dean go down the hall to their room.  As that feeling curled around his
heart and a barbed sting took residence in his chest, he began to understand
exactly what he was feeling for his brother.
 *        *        *        *        *
 John was back.  He had returned in one piece, more or less, and only half-
tanked so Dean counted that a win.  After the usual morning run and training
session today, John insisted Dean take Sammy out for a driving lesson.  Sam and
Dean had both protested; Sam had been driving since that growth spurt at 14 had
let his long legs reach the pedals.  Sam resented the implication that he was
in any way less man than Dean or John.  Dean feared being left alone with Sam.
 
 John had simply held a hand up to shush their protests.  “I know you already
know how to drive, Sam.  I want Dean to show you some precision driving.  How
to lose a tail, brake into turns, outrun cops.  Safely.”  John picked the
Impala keys up off the counter and pushed them into Dean’s chest.  “That’s an
order, son.”
 
 Sam sneered, but before he could open his mouth, Dean answered, “Yes, sir.” 
He headed for the door, “Come on, Sammy.”
 
 He followed Dean out the door, but not before shooting a scowl at his father. 
If John saw, he ignored it, head already buried in the paper looking for the
next case.
 
 “He doesn’t have to order you around like that,” Sam complained as Dean tossed
him the keys.
 
 “Sam, don’t,” Dean said, already frustrated with this task and not in the mood
to argue with his little brother about their father once again.
 
 “I just think you deserve more than that, Dean.  You’re his son, not his
soldier,” Sam countered, eyes softening as he gazed over the roof of the car at
his brother.
 
 Dean felt a tightening in his chest, then a warmth that spread out his limbs. 
John’s treatment of the boys was an old argument, but this was a new angle. 
Dean broke eye contact with Sam and swallowed the lump in his throat.  “Let’s
just get this done,” he said and opened the door to the car.
 
 Sam’s head dropped for a moment.  He wasn’t sure where this new and persistent
urge to protect Dean’s feelings had come from, but he had a hunch it was
related to the same nest of emotion that had affected him the night Dean
couldn’t sit through a movie with him.  He lifted his head and gave it a shake
before opening the door and folding himself into the car.
 
 The lesson was going well.  Sam, a natural at almost everything, was picking
up on this new skill set quickly.  Dean was impressed and he couldn’t stop the
proud grin that stretched across his full lips.
 
 Sam lit up at the look of pride on his older brother’s face and a dimpled grin
of pure adoration spread across his own lips.
 
 Sam slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel, sending the Impala into a 180
degree turn and stopping exactly where Dean had pointed.  Dean cheered and
shouted, “That’s my boy!” clapping a hand on Sam’s knee without thinking.
 
 Sam beamed and blushed at his brother’s praise, and when Dean’s hand landed on
his knee he got caught up in the joy of the moment and without stopping to
consider it, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s.
 
 Dean froze.  Sam’s lips were on his.  It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it was a
kiss.  From his brother.  On the lips.  Dean pushed Sam back and yanked himself
away from his brother’s warm mouth.
 
 Dread spread through Sam’s veins as he realized what he’d done.  When he saw
the shocked look on his brother’s face he immediately began stammering out an
apology, trying to think of something, anything to say to make this okay. “I-
I’m sorry, De-I didn’t…I-I, I just...I don’t, I didn’t. I just, I got – It was
nothing- Dean.  I didn’t mean it.  Please, say something.”
 
 Dean’s fair skin had gone even paler, making his freckles stand out.  He still
hadn’t spoken; he didn’t even think he was still breathing.  Yeah, he was
definitely holding his breath.  He forced himself to exhale.  He was vaguely
aware of Sam rambling on in front of him, but he had no idea what his brother
was saying.  What he was acutely aware of was that he had felt that one simple
brush of Sam’s lips reverberate through his entire body.  Dean didn’t get it. 
He’d kissed plenty of girls, and he liked kissing them.  It felt good…but it
had never sent electricity along his spine like that.  There had never been
this tugging feeling in his chest.  This . . . emotion.
 
 Dean turned his head toward his brother, who was still stammering out
something.  Wait, Sam had stopped talking.  He was staring at Dean, slanted
eyes pinched in worry.  That probably meant it was Dean’s turn to talk.
 
 “Dean?” Sam asked, face scrunched in concern.
 
 “Yeah, Sammy,” Dean said, still trying to get his bearings and not at all sure
what they were talking about.
 
 “Yeah?” Sam asked.  “Yeah, what?”
 
 Dean shook his head in an attempt to clear it.  “I mean, I think that’s good
for today, Sam.”  He turned to his brother, managing to make himself smile,
“You did real good, Sammy.”
 
 Sam swallowed, not sure what to make of Dean’s reaction.  He forced a smile
onto his face, “Thanks, Dean.  Yeah, let’s just head home.  You drive.”  Sam
opened the door and got out.  Once he was outside the car and out of Dean’s
sight, he drew in a deep shaky breath.  He wasn’t sure what was happening, or
what had come over him, but he needed to pull it together fast.
 
 Sam’s hands were shaking.  What had he been thinking?  He had kissed his
brother.  He touched his long fingers to his lips.  It was crazy; it was just
the tiniest press of lips.  Barely even a kiss.  But Sam could still feel the
tingle from it in his lips and along his nerves. 
 
 “Damn it!”  Dean’s curse pulled Sam from his thoughts.  “We got a flat.”
 
 “We do?” Sam asked.  He looked to where Dean was bending to the driver side
rear tire.  Sam was momentarily distracted by the shape of Dean’s ass in his
jeans as he bent to inspect the tire, but shook his head and walked over to his
brother.
 
 Sure enough the tire was flat, and Dean ran his hand along it until he came
away with a bolt.  He held it up for Sam to see.
 
 “Sorry, De,” Sam said sheepishly.  “Must have run over that when we drove
through that old factory.”  John had given the Impala to Dean for his
eighteenth birthday, and ever since then that car had been his baby.  He even
called her Baby.  Yes, her, not it.  Sam wasn’t sure how Dean would handle her
being violated by a bolt at Sam’s hands.
 
 Dean sighed.  “ ‘s alright Sammy.  Looks like you’re getting another lesson
though.”
 
 “Huh?”
 
 “Well, you broke it, you fix it,” Dean said with a smirk.  “You, little
brother, are going to learn to change a flat.”  Dean clapped Sam on the
shoulder on his way past him to the trunk.
 
 Sam followed Dean to the trunk and watched as he opened it.  Dean hefted the
spare out and Sam caught himself staring at the way his older brother’s muscles
flexed under the weight of the tire.
 
 “Don’t just stand there, Sammy.  Grab the jack,” Dean said as he walked around
to the flat tire.  Sam forced his eyes away from Dean’s biceps and grabbed the
jack out of the trunk.  His focus didn’t last long as he came back around the
car to find Dean stooping down to put the spare on the ground.  It was hot and
Dean was already sweating enough that his worn t-shirt was sticking to him, and
Sam could see the outline of every muscle in his brother’s very toned back.
 
 “Sam!  What are you doing?  Come on, let’s go.”  Dean sounded short.  Oh, Sam
must have been staring again instead of moving.  He quickly dropped down next
to Dean with the jack.  Dean leaned in to reach for it and Sam got a smell of
his brother…aftershave, sweat and a hint of leather from the jacket he’d taken
off.  Sam swallowed hard and shifted as he felt his dick begin to stir.
 
 Dean grabbed the jack from Sam and as he leaned in, he felt Sam’s hot breath
ghost over the sensitive skin on the back of his neck.  He took a deep breath,
which only succeeded in bringing the smell of Sam’s sweat and shampoo into his
nostrils.  He let the breath out shakily and tried to gather himself and ignore
the rush of blood to his groin.
 
 “You put the jack under here; ya gotta make sure it’s under the frame, not
just any piece of metal.  Got it?”  Dean’s voice did not waver, it wasn’t
breathy, it was steady and sure.  At least he hoped it was.
 
 “Got it,” Sam answered as he bent to look under the car.  His t-shirt rode up
from the waist of his jeans and Dean got an eyeful of tanned skin.  Dean sucked
in a breath; he had to get ahold of himself.  This was Sam, his 16 year old.
Little. Brother.
 
 “Here ok?” Sam asked, looking back over his arm at Dean.
 
 Dean reached in to feel under the car, his hand brushed over Sam’s and he
heard Sam’s breath catch just inches from his ear.  “Yeah,” his voice came out
in a husky whisper, “that’s perfect.”
 
 As soon as Dean’s fingers brushed over his, Sam felt his dick harden in his
jeans.  When his brother’s gravelly voice whispered close to his ear it sent
electric shivers running over his skin.  He yanked his hand back before he did
something stupid.  Again.
 
 “So n-” Sam started but had to clear his throat before he could continue, “Now
what?”
 
 “We gotta loosen the lug nuts before we jack ‘er up,” Dean said.  Maybe if he
could just focus on the task at hand he could ignore the flush in Sam’s
cheeks.  “Grab the tire iron, Sammy.”
 
 Sam didn’t move.  He couldn’t, if he stood to get the tire iron, Dean would
see the quite obvious bulge in his jeans.  “Um, tire iron?” he asked, deciding
if he played dumb, Dean would get it, or it would give him a chance to get his
dick under control.
 
 Dean rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, Sammy.  Tire iron, we need it to – oh never
mind,” Dean said standing and walking to the trunk.  Sam heaved a sigh of
relief.
 
 Dean returned with the tire iron and handed it to Sam.  Sam looked up at Dean,
dumbly.  Dean bent next to Sam again, “Put it on the nuts and loosen them.” 
Sam nodded and began loosening the lug nuts.  He did fine until he got to the
last one.  It would not budge.
 
 “This one’s stuck,” he said looking to Dean for an answer.
 
 “Lean into it, come on, Sammy.”
 
 Sam wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and then gripped the tire iron tight
in both fists.  He clenched his jaw and strained, using every bit of muscle he
had.  Dean watched as the muscles in Sam’s arms rippled under skin covered in a
thin layer of sweat and dirt.  Sam’s face was flushed, his hair hanging around
it in sweaty tendrils.  Dean’s cock twitched at the sight and he nearly creamed
himself when Sam grunted low in his throat.  Damn it, what was wrong with him?
 
 “Here, let me…” Dean placed his hands on the opposite bars.  He had wanted to
end the show of Sam’s corded forearms more quickly, but he hadn’t really
thought ahead.  Getting in there to help Sam meant they were in each other’s
space.  Sam’s scent filled his nose again and Sam’s breath, coming in pants
now, fell close to his ear.
 
 “Dean,” Sam breathed into his ear.  And fuck, that was it.  His name on Sam’s
lips against his ear and Dean lost all ability for rational thought.  He turned
his head the fraction of an inch and his lips found Sam’s.
 
 Sam whimpered in surprise and want as Dean’s full lips moved against his. 
That mouth, that fucking mouth that had been driving Sam crazy since he could
remember felt even better than he would have imagined.  The spark he felt
earlier at that barest brush of lips lit all over again.  It sizzled along his
lips to his spine and out every nerve in his body, until his whole body felt
alight.
 
 In that moment, Dean’s full, warm lips pressed to his, Sam realized this
wasn’t just about lust.  Sam loved Dean.  Loved him.  Really and truly and from
deep within his soul.  This could not be wrong; in fact it could not be more
right.  Sam wrapped his arms tighter around his brother and drew him impossibly
closer.
 
 Dean felt Sam’s arms tighten around him and suddenly he realized what was
happening.  He was kissing Sam.  He couldn’t do this, no matter how strong the
pull, Sam was his brother and this was just so very wrong.  Dean broke the kiss
and pushed Sam back.
 
 “I’m sorry, Sam.  I-I shouldn’t have…we can’t-“ Dean wiped his hand down his
face.  When he looked up, Sam’s face was pale and his hazel eyes were wet. 
Dean couldn’t look at the hurt on Sam’s face, especially knowing it was his
fault that pain was there.  Dean turned away from Sam, “I’ll finish this Sam,
you can learn another time.”
 
 “Dean,” Sam started, but his brother cut him off.
 
 “Please, don’t, Sam.”
 
 Sam sighed heavily.  “Ok,” he said, standing slowly and backing away.  Dean
stepped in and jacked the car up, he had the tire off and changed in a matter
of minutes and was back behind the wheel without a word.  Sam folded himself
into the passenger seat.  He looked at Dean and opened his mouth to speak, but
the set of Dean’s jaw told him his brother was in no mood for discussion, so he
snapped his mouth shut, sank down in the seat and stared out the window while
Dean drove them home.
 
 *        *        *        *        *
 
 It had been 3 days since Dean had kissed him and Sam hadn’t seen his brother
for more than a minute or two in passing.  He knew what was going on in his
brother’s head.  Dean would be using guilt about his feelings like a baseball
bat to beat the hell out of himself for molesting his little brother.  But Sam
knew he hadn’t been molested and he knew this thing between them went so much
deeper than teenage boys wanting to get off.  Although he really did want to
get off with Dean.
 
 The amount of emotion that had swelled through Sam during that kiss had opened
his eyes to how much Dean really meant to him.  And now Sam’s heart was
breaking that Dean couldn’t make the same connection.  Ever since he could
remember Dean had lead him through every important transition in life.  Dean
knew how to do everything before Sam did; he even knew how to love Sam before
Sam knew how to love Dean.  But now Sam was the one in the lead.  He knew how
to let himself feel that love for Dean, let this need bubble up from deep
within his bones until it just enveloped him and everything around him, and he
no longer cared that it was supposed to be wrong to love your brother this way.
 
 Sam knew this same love was there in Dean’s heart.  He knew it the way he knew
how to breathe, instinctual and inescapable.  Dean loved him.  Sam just had to
help him see it.
 
 *        *        *        *        *
 
 Eleven days.  That was how long Dean managed to avoid being alone with his
brother.  He made sure he was out of the house when Sam returned from school,
and didn’t come home until he was sure Sam would be asleep.  He even spent a
couple of nights on the couch after he’d had a few more than a few beers and
couldn’t trust himself not to…well, he didn’t really want to think about what
might have happened on those nights.
 
 It had helped that John had stuck around for longer than usual this time. 
Dean nearly hugged his father when John asked him to come along and help with a
hunt in the next town over.  The break in his constant battle with his feelings
for Sam was a godsend.  He didn’t even mind that he ended up covered in goo and
reeking with a monster stench that he couldn’t wash off for days.
 
 Day twelve, though, well, that was a different story.  On day twelve he came
home around noon for lunch and a shower thinking Sam would be at school.  He
opened the door to find his brother sprawled on the couch.  Dammit.
 
 “Hey, Sammy.  Whatcha doin’ home?  Don’t you have school today?”  Dean asked,
forcing his voice to maintain a casual tone, despite the fact his heart had
leapt into his throat.
 
 “I didn’t go,” Sam answered.  Dean couldn’t read anything from his tone, and
when he tried to search his brother’s face nothing was revealed there either. 
But skipping school was not at all like his brother.  Something was definitely
going on.
 
 “Why not?  You sick?”
 
 Sam shook his head, “No, Dean, not sick.”  Sam sat up and pushed off the couch
to stand facing his brother.
 
 Dean unconsciously took a step back.  “Sam, what- what’s going on?  Is
something wrong?”
 
 “Funny, Dean.  That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.”  Sam’s head tilted
and the crease that he always got when he was worried about Dean or, on rarer
occasions, about John, appeared in the middle of his forehead.  Dean hated that
look on Sam’s face and he instantly felt the need to make it go away.
 
 “Whadya mean, Sammy?  I’m fine,” Dean said.  His feet took him a step closer
to his brother and his hand rose to brush over Sam’s brow without his
permission.
 
 Sam turned his face into Dean’s hand, caressing his brother’s palm with his
cheek.  Dean’s thumb brushed over Sam’s cheekbone and then he was pulling his
hand back, though he had to force himself to keep that hand at his side.
 
 Sam smiled gently.  “Dean, what’s going on?  I haven’t seen you since…” Sam
trailed off, not really sure how to refer to what had happened the day Dean had
kissed him.   “Dean, have you-are, are you mad at me?”  Sam asked, hazel eyes
pleading.
 
 “Oh, Sammy, no.”  God, Dean had really screwed this one up.  Sam hadn’t done
anything wrong, this was all his fault and now he stood before his baby brother
who looked…heartbroken.  “Sammy, I’m not mad at you.  I just –” Dean stopped,
he had no idea how to finish that sentence.
 
 “Then why are you avoiding me?”  Dean just stared at his brother, he couldn’t
deny that, but he couldn’t explain himself without admitting to his sick
attraction for his own brother.  Sam sighed, “Dean, I’m not stupid.  You are
out all the time.  You sleep on the couch.  You’re sneaking home when you
thought I’d be at school-”
 
 “I’m not sneaking,” Dean argued, cutting his brother off.
 
 Sam ignored the interruption, “You can’t stand to be in the same room with me
anymore.  Why?”
 
 Dean looked down at his boots.  His brother was the only person he’d ever
known who was even more stubborn than his father.  It would do no good to argue
with Sam if he’d made up his mind to force this discussion.  “You know why,
Sam.”
 
 “The kiss?” Sam asked.
 
 Dean nodded.
 
 “Dean, we didn’t do anything wrong,” Sam said, moving closer to his brother.
 
 Dean’s head snapped up, “Didn’t do anything wrong?  Sammy, have you lost your
mind?  How could that not be wrong?!  We’re brothers.  We can’t –”
 
 “Can’t what?”  Dean didn’t answer; he just looked back down at the floor.
 
 Sam sighed and pushed his hand through his hair.  He loved his brother, but
damn, he could be completely exasperating sometimes.  “Dean.  Don’t you get
it?”  Dean just stared at Sam blankly, “I love you, Dean.”
 
 “Yeah, I love you too, Sammy.  You’re my brother.”
 
 “No, Dean,” Sam said, taking a step closer.  He looked right into Dean’s
eyes.  “I love you.   I’m in love with you.”  And there it was.  Out in the
open.  Sam felt relieved, and maybe a little terrified.
 
 Dean looked at Sam, really looked at him.  It finally clicked for him.  That
was why he hadn’t been able to distract himself.  That was why a simple kiss or
touch from Sam had more of an effect on him than anyone else’s kiss.  He loved
Sam.
 
 That changed everything.  If he loved Sam, this wasn’t just some sick urge he
was having towards his little brother.  It was about so much more than sex. 
Dean looked deep into Sam’s eyes and saw it.  Finally saw what had been there
for so long. 
 
 Dean made the final move bringing him into Sam’s space.  “Dean?” Sam asked.
 
 Dean answered Sam’s question with a kiss.  His lips pushed against Sam’s,
tentative at first until he felt Sam lean into him.  He pushed his hands into
Sam’s stupid too-long hair and let his fingers tangle in the unruly chestnut
locks.  Sam moaned and tilted his head just enough to slot their mouths
together perfectly.
 
 Sam used his tongue to trace the full bow of Dean’s bottom lip before he
sucked it into his mouth.  Dean moaned at the feeling of Sam’s tongue teasing
his lips.  He automatically opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, needing to
have more of Sam.
 
 And Sam gave it to him.  Gave him more.  Gave him everything.  Sam’s long
fingers came up gently, gingerly caressing Dean’s jaw.  Wanting to touch, but
so afraid to spook his brother after the last time.
 
 Dean felt Sam’s hesitation, but somehow, in that way he could always read his
brother, Dean knew it wasn’t because Sam didn’t want this.  It was because Sam
wanted this so very much…and was afraid that Dean wouldn’t be able to give it.
 
 Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead to Sam’s, hand still tangled in
those soft locks.  “ ‘Sokay, Sammy.”
 
 Sam pulled back just far enough to search his brother’s eyes.  He looked deep
into that hot emerald gaze and he was sure he saw it, but Dean understood this
time there had to be more than their silent connection.
 
 “I love you, Sammy.  Been in love with you for –” Dean was cut off by Sam’s
smiling lips.  Dean smiled into the kiss as he returned it.  This.  This could
never be wrong.  He had never felt more right.  And Dean would give everything
to keep kissing Sam.

 
    Chapter_2
***** Chapter 2 *****
 Chapter 2
  Once they started kissing, Sam and Dean could not keep their lips off each
other.  Dean was pretty sure it was going to get them in trouble, but he hadn’t
figured out what to do about it.  It was like some gravitational pull bringing
his mouth to Sam’s perfect pink lips.  Not that he really tried all that hard
to stop, because, you know, it was kissing and it was Sam and, well, who could
blame him for a little indulgence?
 
 Of course, once the kissing started, it quickly progressed to the touching.  
Any time they were alone lips roamed, followed very quickly by meandering
hands; Sam’s long fingers skip-tracing over any bit of Dean he could reach or
fisting in Dean’s t-shirt to drag him even closer.  Dean’s hands were just as
guilty:  running up Sam’s arms, over his back, but more often than not they
ended up tangled in Sam’s ridiculous mop of hair.  Sam had noticed all the
teasing about it being time for a hair cut had decreased in near direct
proportion to the amount of time his brother’s hands spent in Sam’s hair.  Not
that Sam minded.  Not one bit.  He loved the feeling of Dean’s strong hands
twining in his hair; tugging gently, guiding Sam’s head into the perfect
position for a full-on assault from those fucking maddening lips.
 
 Sam’s preoccupation with Dean’s mouth had only gotten worse now that he knew
what it was capable of, what it felt like, how it tasted.  Sam could get lost
in those plush lips.
 
 “Sam?”
 
 Dammit.  Apparently he had gotten lost.  John had found a new lead and picked
them up for another move and the boys had talked him into stopping for a “real”
dinner at a diner along the way.  John and Dean had been discussing . . .
something.  Sam may have missed the topic.  Now they were looking for Sam’s
opinion, but the only thing Sam had gotten from the whole exchange was a hard-
on as he’d remembered the feeling of Dean’s mouth against his and let his mind
wander on to all the other places he’d like to feel those lips.
 
 Dean flashed his smirkiest grin.  He knew exactly where Sam’s mind had been. 
Of course he loved Sam so he would rescue him.
 
 In just a minute.
 
 Dean caught Sam’s gaze and leaned forward to his soda.  He wrapped his lips
around the straw and watched as Sam’s eyes widened when Dean sucked.  He pulled
back, grinning at Sam’s dumbfounded expression.
 
 “I think Sam agrees with me on this one, Dad.  Right, Sammy?  Apartment over
motel?”
 
 Sam shook his head and refocused his gaze.  “Um, yeah.  Yeah, I mean we’re
gonna be here for at least a few months, aren’t we?  You said this was a big
case, right?”
 
 John nodded, “This one’s a pretty big lead.  Probably be at least 4 or 5
months.”  Sam and Dean watched as their father did the calculations in his
head, knowing he was trying to figure out how far their funds could go.  He
sighed, “Fine, I think we can do it this time.  But it’s gonna have to be a one
bedroom – you boys will have to share.  And Dean, you’ll need to get at least a
part-time job.”
 
 “Yes, sir,” Dean agreed.  Sam tried to fight the grin that wanted to erupt,
but his dimples popped into view anyway.  An apartment instead of a motel meant
that John would be on the other side of a door, instead of in the bed right
next to them.  It was perfect.
 
 “Alright, then.  I’m gonna hit the head and pay.  You boys make sure to go
before we leave.  I don’t want another stop in 20 minutes,” John warned as he
got up from the table.
 
 Sam beamed across the table as John walked toward the bathroom, his back to
the boys at the table.  Dean smiled back at his brother.  He was every bit as
excited as Sam at the prospect of the privacy their own room would bring, but
Dean Winchester did not gush, so he played it a little cool.
 
 “You heard that – gonna have our own room, Dean,” Sam said, reaching under the
table to trace a finger up Dean’s thigh.
 
 “I heard, and I can’t wait to get you alone on that bed, baby boy,” Dean said,
leaning in to whisper the last words into Sam’s ear.
 
 Sam shuddered as Dean’s hot breath hit his ear, and had to shift himself when
the words sank in.  Fuck, he was never going to survive the rest of the car
ride with their father.  John’s truck had taken the brunt of a witch’s attack
and was at Uncle Bobby’s being patched back together, so they were all piled
into the Impala together.
 
 Dean seemed to read Sam’s mind, or maybe it had more to do with his own
growing erection and the fact it had been hours since he’d tasted Sam’s lips. 
He looked up from Sam to see his father coming out of the bathroom.  “Come on,
Sammy.  Dad said we gotta hit the bathroom before we go,” Dean said with a
wink.
 
 A lopsided grin spread across Sam’s face, and he pulled his shirt down to
conceal his arousal as he stood and headed for the bathroom.
 
 John dropped a few dollars for a tip on the table, “See you boys in the car,
gonna fill ‘er up across the street.  I wanna get back on the road.”
 
 Dean nodded at his father and headed back to the bathroom after Sam.  Before
the door even shut all the way behind him, his little brother was on him,
grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and pushing him back against the
wall.
 
 Sam licked into Dean’s mouth, pulling back only to nip at Dean’s bottom lip. 
Dean’s hands found their home in Sam’s chestnut locks pulling him back in so
Dean could put his full lips to work at taking Sam apart.
 
 A desperate moan passed from Sam’s mouth into Dean’s and Sam pressed his body
forward until every inch of him was in contact with his brother’s body.  Dean’s
grip in Sam’s hair tightened as Sam’s fully aroused dick pressed into his hip.
 
 Dean shifted so that Sam straddled his thigh and he captured one of Sam’s long
legs between his own muscled thighs.  The younger Winchester groaned at the
contact and Dean felt his little brother’s big hands on his hips.  “Fuck,” Dean
breathed out into Sam’s mouth as they rutted into each other.  His head spun
with how quickly Sam had him so completely aroused, and he knew he was
dangerously close to coming in his pants.  As blissful as the idea of him and
Sam getting off rubbing together sounded, he did not want to explain wet spots
on their jeans to his father.
 
 Dean broke from kissing Sam, who just latched that pretty mouth onto Dean’s
collarbone.
“Sammy,” Dean tried, but cut himself off with a curse as Sam bit-sucked his
sensitive flesh.  He took a breath and gently forced his brother back.  He was
met with wounded hazel puppy eyes. 
 
 “Dean?”
 
 “It’s not that Sammy,” Dean said, instantly soothing the worry Sam didn’t even
need to voice for Dean to understand.  “I just…fuck, baby boy, feels so good. 
Gonna make me…” Dean ducked his head as a blush bloomed under his freckles and
Sam’s cock twitched at the sight.
 
 “Later, ok?” Dean asked.  Sam started to nod, but his dick was still so hard
it hurt and he wasn’t going to be able to will this one away.
 
 “De, I…I can’t.  I can’t just get back in that car and sit with you for
hours…like this,” he said motioning to his obvious hard on.  “I just can’t.”
 
 Dean looked at his little brother.  He felt for the kid, he remembered being
16 and feeling like he could actually die from a hard-on.  Wait – something
else he remembered about being 16, get someone else’s hand on his dick and he
could come in 2 minutes.  Dean smiled and pulled his brother into a stall.
 
 Dean stood behind Sam, he placed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck
and whispered into Sam’s ear, “Gonna take care of you, baby.”  Sam’s breath
caught as Dean’s fingers closed on his zipper.  Dean peppered Sam’s neck with
kisses as he opened Sam’s jeans and pulled his cock out.
 
 Fuck.  Dean hadn’t counted on his own cock twitching at the sight of Sam’s. 
They’d been mostly making out, hands occasionally wandering as far as rubbing
each other through denim.  And yeah, Dean had even come.  But this was the
first time he was really getting a look at Sam.  And, well.  Damn.  He wasn’t
so sure this was going to prevent the whole coming in his pants problem.
 
 A sound very close to a whimper coming from Sam broke Dean from his thoughts. 
Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s shaft.  He dragged his hand up to the head
gathering the precome leaking from the tip.  Sam groaned, punching his hips
forward into Dean’s grip.
[wbb700]


“That’s it, Sammy.  Let go,” Dean husked into Sam’s ear, letting his lips graze
the skin.  He continued to stroke his brother’s cock as Sam fucked into his
hand.  Dean knew Sam was close, also knew his father would come looking for
them if they didn’t get out to the car soon.  Dean didn’t even want to think
about how badly that would go.  He needed to push Sam over the edge.  And
Dean’s lips were good for many things.  He turned his head back to Sam’s ear
and let all his thoughts pour out in his graveled voice.
 
 “Look so hot right now, baby boy.  All strung out.  Cock all hard ‘n leaking. 
Fucking into my hand.”  Sam moaned and his hips moved faster in response.  Knew
it, thought Dean, of course Sam would have a thing for Dean talking dirty.  Sam
had a thing for just about anything involving Dean’s mouth.  “Feel good,
Sammy?” Sam nodded and Dean went on, “Getting’ close, aren’t ya?  Good, wanna
see it, Sammy.  Wanna see you come for me.  Can you do that, baby?” 
 
 “Oh god, yes,” Sam groaned out.
 
 “Good.  Do it, baby boy.  Come.”  Sam’s back arched and his mouth fell open on
a silent cry as his orgasm hit.
 
 As Sam slowly came back to himself he realized Dean was still hard behind
him.  He turned to reach for Dean, but Dean grabbed his wrist to stop him.  “No
time, Sam.”
 
 “But Dean-”
 
 “I’ll be fine.  Let’s go before Dad comes looking for us.” 
 
 Sam had always thought it was just an expression, a trite, overused and
clichéd string of words when people said their heart skipped a beat.  But Sam’s
did.  Dean would always give anything of himself to keep Sam comfortable,
including riding in a car with their father with a raging hard on and no chance
for relief.  Sam counted that as romance.
 
 “Stop grinning at me like that,” Dean said, once again ducking while his
cheeks burned pink.
 
 Sam leaned forward to kiss one of those cheeks and then headed for the door. 
“Take a minute to…” Sam made a vague gesture with his hand, “I’ll go buy you a
little time with Dad.”
 *        *        *        *        *
 Sam let Dean take the backseat.  Easier to conceal his…condition that way.  
Dean curled up against the door, head resting on a rolled up hoody that Sam had
left back there.  He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.  That was all he
could manage.  Between his unflagging erection and the smell of Sam in the
shirt, Dean was not going to be getting any real rest.  But at least if he
looked like he was unconscious he would be spared trying to make conversation
and disguise any arousal or frustration in his voice.
 
 Sam tried to keep up conversation with his father as his brother rested in the
back seat.  One look back at Dean’s form and Sam could tell he wasn’t actually
asleep.  He guessed that Dean was probably still pretty uncomfortable and that
stirred a combination of guilt for not having taken care of his brother and
anger at his father for the impending threat that had prevented Dean from
allowing Sam to give him some release.  Soon, Sam promised silently, hoping
Dean somehow knew of his little brother’s vow.
 *        *        *        *        *
 The final hours of the drive seemed interminable to both Winchester sons.  No
matter what he tried Dean had been unable to turn his thoughts away from Sam…so
his dick remained pretty unhappy.  John had made a couple of calls along the
way and set up an apartment and they pulled into the parking lot just after
midnight.  After unpacking the car and setting up the salt lines, John had
collapsed on the couch with a bottle of Jack.  He’d be passed out in minutes. 
Sam went to shower and Dean went to bed.
 
 Dean lay on his back on his bed hands folded behind his head and closed his
eyes.  His cock was finally down to at least half-mast and he was too exhausted
to really do much about it anyway.  Ok, so maybe he wasn’t that tired, he was a
guy after all.  Maybe what he was really hoping was that he would find some
relief with a freshly washed Sammy.
 
 The door clicked open and Sam came through it.  Sam, skin still damp and pink
from his hot shower, wrapped in only a towel.  Dean swallowed as his dick fully
hardened again.
 
 Sam blushed as he felt Dean’s eyes on him, he still wasn’t used to the effect
he had on his gorgeous older brother.  But he liked it.  He caught Dean’s
emerald gaze with his own lust darkened eyes.  His hand went to the towel at
his waist.  He waited a second for Dean’s breath to catch and then he untucked
the end and let the towel fall to the floor.
 
 Dean whimpered and his cock pulsed out precome at the sight in front of him. 
Sam was beautiful.  Honey skin, new muscles, long legs, his hair in wet
tendrils dripping down the length of his neck, curving in the bend of his
collarbone.  Dean wanted nothing more at that moment than to lick that water
from his brother’s skin.  Ok, maybe there was one thing he wanted more.  Those
damn pink lips, perfect cupid’s bow.  Dean needed Sam’s lips.  Now.
 
 “Sammy,” he whispered voice dark with desire and full of question.
 
 Sam was across the room and on his brother in a second.  He straddled Dean’s
waist and bent to kiss the plush lips that had tormented him all day.  Dean’s
fingers pushed into Sam’s hair, fisting and pulling him with more demand than
he’d yet dared to use on his little brother. 
 
 “Dean,” Sam whispered out between kisses, “I want…I, Dean.  Can I suck you?”
 
 Fu-uck.  Dean fought everything to not come untouched at the request falling
from Sam’s mouth and the thought of what that mouth would feel like on his
aching cock.  “Fuck yes, Sammy.  Please.”  Dean was not begging.  Much.
 
 Sam moaned into Dean’s mouth with another kiss, then began making his way down
Dean’s chest with those kiss-swollen pink lips.  He’d never done this; his
nerves were starting to get the better of him as he came face to face with the
golden trail of hair just under his brother’s belly-button.  He dragged his
lips over the hairs, just barely brushing them, bringing a tortured sound from
Dean above him. 
 
 Sam’s face hovered over Dean’s erection.  It had tented his boxers obscenely
and there was a wet spot at the tip of his brother’s cock.  Sam let his tongue
venture out to taste Dean through the cotton.  Dean let out a breathy pleading
noise above him, and that was it.  Sam was in, no nerves could stop him from
having Dean this way.
 
 He opened his mouth and let it cover the leaking tip of Dean’s cock, laving
him through the damp fabric.  Dean moaned and couldn’t stop himself from
punching his hips forward at the feeling of Sam’s hot mouth so close but not
close enough. 
 
 Long fingers curled around the waist band of Dean’s boxers and slowly peeled
them down.  Dean looked down to see Sam’s hazel eyes watching him.  Sam wrapped
a hand around Dean’s shaft and Dean watched as Sam’s pretty lips stretched
around his cock.  “Fucking hell, baby boy,” Dean rasped, “so beautiful.”  Sam
moaned at the praise and Dean’s dick leaked more precome.  Sam lapped it from
his slit and he knew he was already addicted to the taste of Dean on his
tongue.  He needed more.
 
 Sam wasn’t really sure what he was doing, other than chasing the flavor of
Dean’s come.  He figured out quickly to wrap his lips around his teeth and that
he wasn’t ready to take too much of Dean into his mouth.  He ended up working
his tongue around the swollen head of his brother’s cock as his hand worked the
length.
 
 It was obvious to Dean that Sam had never given a blowjob before, but somehow
that just made everything that much hotter.  And Sam was apparently a very
quick study.  Fuck.  The way his tongue was working Dean’s dick had Dean about
a second and a half from shooting down his throat. He should probably warn Sam.
 
 “Oh, fuck, Sammy!” Dean growled out.  Sam had figured out the sucking part and
now Dean was looking at his baby brother’s pink lips stretched around his cock
and his cheeks hollowed out and damn, that shouldn’t be as hot as it was. 
Fuck, he was gonna –
 “Sammy, gonna-“ That was as much warning as Dean could give before he was
spurting pulse after pulse after pulse of come into Sam’s mouth.  Sam startled
at first, but quickly recovered and let his brother’s release fill his mouth. 
He rolled the bitter salty flavor around his mouth before swallowing it.
 
 Dean groaned and grabbed Sam’s hair, dragging him up to his mouth for a kiss. 
Dean’s tongue pushed into Sam’s mouth and he tasted the combination of Sam and
his own release and his spent cock twitched.  “Your turn,” Dean husked against
Sam’s abused mouth.
 
 Dean wrapped his hands around Sam’s hips and guided him until his little
brother was straddling his shoulders.  Sam’s blood heavy cock bobbed in front
of him and Dean simultaneously leaned forward and pushed Sam’s hips toward him
as he took his brother into his mouth.
 
 Sam couldn’t stop his hips from moving forward, chasing the wet heat of Dean’s
perfect mouth.  His older brother’s strong hands held him back from fucking in
too deep before Dean was ready.  Dean worked to relax his throat as he worked
Sam’s cock a little deeper with each bob of his head.  When Dean was sure his
throat was open enough and he felt ready, he let go of Sam’s hips.
 
 Sam took Dean’s silent signal of permission and pushed forward.  When he saw
how his brother’s mouth took him, he began thrusting in and out, fucking those
gorgeous lips that had taunted him for so long.  He knew he was never going to
last, his dick surrounded in the perfect wet heat, watching Dean’s full lips
stretched around his cock, Dean’s eyes telling him how much he liked Sam
abusing his mouth this way.
 
 He felt it tingling and tight in his balls, and he knew he was powerless to
slow it down.  “Dean?” he warned, or was he asking permission?  Because all he
wanted was to come all over his brother’s pretty face.  Dean looked up giving
Sam the ok, and as he felt the edge of his orgasm Sam pulled his cock from his
brother’s mouth, and stroked himself until he came, pearly white streaks
shooting across Dean’s lips and face.  The sight only further fueled Sam’s
orgasm and he nearly blacked out with the force of it as the final pulses went
into Dean’s open mouth.
 
 Sam slithered down Dean’s body until their faces were even.  He leaned forward
and licked his come from Dean’s face, saving the streaks across Dean’s lips for
last.  He slowly ran his tongue along that full abused lip, gathering up the
last drops and pushing them into Dean’s mouth with his tongue as he dove in for
one last kiss.  Dean devoured Sam’s taste as they kissed, then rolled his
brother to the side. 
 
 They lay wrapped in each others’ arms, just breathing, allowing the moment to
linger as long as they dared. 
 
 It was Dean who broke the silence, “Love you, baby boy, but you know we can’t
fall asleep like this.”
 
 “I know De, just one more minute?”
 
 “Ok, but then back to your own bed.”
 
 “Love you too, Dean.”
 *        *        *        *        *
 Over the next two months the boys made good use of their room…and the
shower…and when John was out, the couch.  Sometimes on his way home from his
job at the garage, Dean would pick Sam up from school and they would park the
Impala outside of town.  That always led to a fight to see who could get whose
cock in their mouth faster.  Didn’t really matter who got there first, they
both won that particular game.
 
 When John didn’t leave the house for days at a time, Sam would ask Dean for a
ride to the library.  Dean would make a show of arguing about it, until
eventually John would tell him to take his brother, “That’s an order, son.” 
Dean would wink at Sam behind John’s back and Sam would grin wide, his dimples
carving into his cheeks.  The boys would walk out the door, pretend tension
thick between them, and then dissolve into laughter once they were shut safely
in Dean’s Baby.
 
 “Where to?” Dean would ask, although he knew the answer.
 
 Sam would run a long finger up the seam of Dean’s jeans, “Pond?”
 
 They had found a little pond not too far outside of town.  It was in a small
meadow surrounded by a forest.  They would park the Impala facing the pond and
lay on the hood, leaning back against the windshield.  They traded lazy kisses
as they talked, hazel eyes getting lost in an emerald gaze.  Sam would tell
Dean everything he had planned for the future.  Dean would tell Sam he was
Dean’s future.  After that the talking thinned down and the kisses got less
lazy.  Sam coming undone on the hood of his baby under the stars became Dean’s
favorite sight.
 *        *        *        *        *
 “Come on, De,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck, “just
wanna be closer to you.  Love you.”  Sam ended with a kiss to his brother’s
mouth.
 
 Dean broke away to sit on the couch.  “I know, Sammy.  Me too.  But, that’s a
big deal.  Can’t take that back.  You sure…?”  Dean didn’t finish his
question.  For the most part Dean had gotten past his guilt about them being
brothers and Sam had long since convinced Dean he wasn’t taking advantage of
his little brother.  But what Sam was asking was so much.  And the question
Dean didn’t ask was one Sam had already heard.  The first time they’d had this
argument, two weeks ago. 
 
 “You sure you want to lose your virginity to your brother?” Dean had asked,
pushing away from Sam.  “I mean, you only get your first time once, Sam.”
 
 “I’m sure Dean, want all my times with you.  Especially the first one, De.”
 
 How was Dean supposed to argue with that?  Add in the puppy eyes and the
kissing and the best Dean could do was put Sam off with the distraction of his
mouth or hand.  Dean had no way to say no to his little brother.
 
 Sam put one long thigh on either side of Dean’s hips and sat in his brother’s
lap, bringing their foreheads together.  John had taken off chasing a case,
said he wouldn’t be back for at least 2 days.  It left Sam and Dean alone in
the house and Sam saw it as the perfect opportunity.   Dean didn’t disagree; he
just needed to know that his little brother was really sure.
 
 Sam’s big hand wrapped around the back of Dean’s head and he drew his older
brother into a deep kiss.  As Sam’s tongue found Dean’s somewhere between their
mouths, Sam began to roll his hips and Dean moaned when the movement brought
their already hard cocks into contact through their sweats. 
 
 “Come on, De.  Don’t you want to?  Hmm?” Sam asked hot breath against Dean’s
mouth as Sam rolled his hips again.  Dean had a witty reply, but all that came
out was a moan.  Sam grinned and nipped at Dean’s full bottom lip.  “Want to
work me open?  Slide your cock in deep.  Fuck me?”
 
 Dean had been fully on board with Sam’s plan.  Until those last two words. 
 
 “Sammy, no.” Dean stroked a hand through Sam’s hair, then let his hand cup
Sam’s jaw, thumb rubbing gently over the skin.  “Not gonna be like that.  Not
our first time.” 
 
 Sam looked at Dean, brow knitted in confusion.
 
 “First time, I’m gonna worship you Sammy.  Every inch of you.  ‘Til there’s no
doubt left that I love you.” 
 
 Sam’s mouth fell open in a silent moment of awe.  His brother never ceased to
take his breath away.  For all Dean’s posturing and macho teasing of Sam for
being a big girl, it was the elder Winchester who had the softest spot for the
grand romantic gesture.  Or at least Sam brought that out in Dean; but as far
as Dean was concerned Sam brought out all the best parts of Dean.
 
 “I never doubted your love, Dean.  Not for a second.  It’s the one thing I’ve
been sure of my entire life.”
 
 Dean’s eyes absolutely did not spill over with tears.  And if they did, Sam
would never mention it.  He simply leaned in until the magnetic pull of their
lips brought them together, and let that kiss say all the other things words
fell short of.   Dean’s hands slid up Sam’s back, right into the chestnut locks
of his hair, scratching over the scalp and fisting the silky strands.  The
noise that slipped from Sam’s lips was part breathy moan, part blissful sigh
and all for Dean.
 
 “Please,” Sam whispered between kisses, and this time Dean could find no
argument. 
 
 Dean looped his arms around his brother’s back and stood from the couch.  Sam
wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist as his brother carried him back to their
room.  Dean bent down to carefully deposit him on the bed.  He lay back against
the pillows and watched as Dean straightened above him.  Dean pulled his t-
shirt off over his head and dropped it on the floor.  He watched Sam’s face as
he pulled off his socks, then let his sweats fall to the floor.
 
 Sam licked his lips and his hands clenched unconsciously at the sight of
Dean’s hard cock.  He wanted to touch, to taste, take his brother’s gorgeous
cock in his mouth and wring an orgasm from him fast and hard.  But one look in
Dean’s lush green eyes and what Sam wanted more than that was to give in to
Dean and allow him to take his time.
 
 Dean smiled as he watched the urges and emotions wash over Sam’s face and as
he saw them end in contented acquiescence he traced a finger over Sam’s lips. 
Sam pressed a kiss to the pad of Dean’s finger.   “Every inch, baby boy,” Dean
repeated in a sex-roughened rasp.
 
 Sam whimpered, as his cock twitched and leaked in response to his brother’s
promise.  Dean climbed onto the bed, placing one knee on either side of Sam’s
thighs and leaned forward on his hands over his brother.  Sam stretched his
head up for a kiss, Dean traced the bow of his brother’s lip and slipped his
tongue into Sam’s eager mouth.  He kissed his little brother deeply, pushing
his head back against the pillow.  Once Dean’s kiss had stolen Sam’s breath,
the elder Winchester began a trail of kisses at Sam’s jaw, starting with a
gentle nip to the sensitive skin just below his ear.
 
 A moan escaped Sam as he turned his head to allow his brother complete access
to his neck.  Dean worked his full lips down the long column of Sam’s throat,
alternating open mouthed kisses and gentle bites.  He wanted so badly to dig
his teeth in deeper, to mark Sammy as his, but he knew the marks would take
longer than the 2 days his father would be gone to fade.  He continued down to
Sam’s collarbone, an easily hidden spot and allowed himself to suck a bruise
into the skin as Sam moaned and arched beneath him. 
 
 Dean slipped his hands under the hem of Sam’s t-shirt as his back was raised,
and eased the worn fabric up over his head and tossed it on the floor.  He
caught Sam’s hand in his and placed a kiss to the inside of his wrist, working
his way up Sam’s arm.  Dean licked down his shoulder and across his chest until
he reached the dark bud of Sam’s nipple.  He flicked his tongue over it to
gauge his brother’s reaction; Sam’s eyes darkened and he bit off another moan,
so Dean leaned back in to tease the sensitive nub with his tongue and teeth
until he heard Sam plead, “Dean, please.”
 
 He grinned up at his brother and gave one last nip before continuing down his
contoured abs.  Dean licked and mouthed at the muscled grooves and let his
tongue dart into Sam’s bellybutton.  He found the dark trail of hair and looked
up at Sam through thick lashes signaling him to lift his hips.  Sam obeyed and
Dean slowly pulled the sweatpants down his brother’s long legs, leaving open
mouthed kisses down Sam’s right thigh, then knee, then calf before pulling the
pants off and dropping them on the pile of clothing on the floor.
 
 “Dean,” his name came as a coarse whisper, a plea from Sam’s kiss swollen
lips.  He took a moment to appreciate the absolute beauty of his brother’s
naked body laid out only for him.  Miles of tanned skin flecked with moles,
endless legs with perfectly cut hipbones, muscled arms, that shaggy mop of
hair, and his cock, hard and leaking, long and gorgeous.  And just waiting for
Dean.
 
 He wrapped his hand around Sam’s ankle and drew his left foot up, placing a
kiss to the instep of Sam’s foot.  Dean left another trail of kisses up Sam’s
leg, stopping to tease the skin behind his knee between his teeth before
draping his little brother’s long leg over his shoulder and lying between Sam’s
thighs. 
 
 Sam’s breath caught at the sight of Dean’s full lips hovering over his dick
and when Dean unconsciously licked his lips, a fresh bead of precome pulsed
out.  Dean wasted no time in bending to lick it from the swollen head of Sam’s
cock.  He swirled his tongue around Sam’s dick as he worked his mouth up and
down the shaft.  Sam’s head thrashed on the pillow, broken moans and bitten off
curses spilling from his lips.
 
 Dean pulled off Sam’s cock, and Sam whined at the loss of contact, “Shh, ‘s
ok, Sammy, I got ya.”  Dean grabbed a pillow, “Lift up, baby boy.”  Sam planted
the heel of his other foot on the bed and lifted his hips while Dean tucked the
pillow under him.  Dean drew Sam’s other leg over his shoulder and bent his
head lower.  Dean placed a thumb on either side of Sam’s hole and gently spread
the muscled cheeks of his brother’s ass.
 
 “Fuuuuck!” Sam screamed at the first pass of Dean’s tongue.  Dean moaned
against his hole as he continued to tease his tongue around the delicate skin. 
He relished every cry and moan that came from Sam’s lips as he worked his
tongue into the loosening muscle.  Dean fucked his tongue in and out of Sam’s
hole, swirling it around the smooth skin inside until Sam begged above him.
 
 “God, Dean.  Feels so good.  More.  Please, more.”  Dean obliged, placing his
index finger beside his tongue for the next thrust.  “Yes!” Sam cried out. 
Dean kept working Sam with his tongue and finger until his brother asked for
more, and then he returned his mouth to Sam’s cock as he worked two fingers
into Sam’s tight heat.  Sam tensed at the initial stretch, but a lick to his
slit and some suction from Dean’s mouth had him distracted enough to relax. 
 
 Dean worked his brother open carefully, but the sounds coming from Sam’s mouth
had him so hard his cock ached and he realized he was unconsciously pumping his
hips into the bed.  He needed to move things along before it was too late, he
teased a third finger around Sam’s hole and Sam pushed back toward it, “Yes,
De, more.  Please, God, more.”  Dean’s ring finger breached Sam and found
little resistance.  His little brother was lost to sensation and was soon
fucking back into Dean’s hand, incoherent babblings tumbling from his mouth.
 
 “Ready, Sammy?”  Sam nodded, and Dean pulled his fingers free.  Sam winced a
bit, then made a tiny noise of dissatisfaction at the sudden emptiness he
felt.  Dean pulled one then the other of Sam’s legs off his back and let them
rest on the bed as he knelt between them.  He reached into the drawer of the
nightstand between their beds and pulled out a bottle of lube.  Sam watched
hungrily as Dean slicked up his cock.  “Turn over,” Dean commanded gently.  Sam
shook his head.  “Sammy, it’s gonna hurt less that way.  Please?”
 
 “No, Dean.  ‘s gonna hurt anyway.  I want to look at you, not have my face
pressed into the pillow.”  Dean raised an eyebrow; Sam crossed his arms over
his chest.  Dean knew better than to argue with that look on his brother’s
face…besides, it wasn’t really losing if he got to look into Sammy’s hazel eyes
as he sank into his body.
 
 “Ok, Sam.  If that’s what you want.”  Sam beamed, dimples digging deep into
his cheeks as he spread his thighs wide to allow his brother access.  “Fuck,
Sammy.” Dean’s voice came out all gravel and sex.  He gripped the base of his
cock and lined himself up with Sam’s hole.  Sam met Dean’s eyes and nodded. 
Dean pushed the head in and met resistance as Sam tensed.
 
 Dean reached a hand up and brushed through Sam’s hair, “Gotta relax, let me
in, baby boy.” 
 
 Sam looked into Dean’s eyes, still full of love around the lust, and took a
deep breath.  As he exhaled Dean felt Sam’s muscles relax around him and he
pushed in deeper.  Slowly, Dean sank into Sam until he was buried to the hilt. 
With a groan Dean’s forehead dropped to Sam’s chest.
 
 Moments passed as the boys just breathed together, reveling in this new level
of closeness.  Sam ran a gentle hand along Dean’s jaw and Dean looked up into
his brother’s eyes.  Sam drew Dean into a kiss, slow and deep, pulling back
only to whisper against Dean’s lips, “I’m ready, Dean.  Please, move.”  Dean
kissed Sam back as he slowly withdrew back to the head, then pushed back in. 
They both moaned into the kiss at the feeling.  Dean thrust slowly into Sam
kissing him with all the love he felt pumping through his veins. 
 
 After a few slow thrusts, both needed more.  Dean broke the kiss to adjust his
angle.  When he found that sweet spot inside his brother, Sam’s face lit up in
surprise as he cried out.  Dean pushed into it again and Sam cursed.  Dean
grinned and began working his hips so that every other thrust hit straight into
Sam’s prostate.
 
 Dean felt his orgasm building from deep inside, and he needed Sam to reach the
edge with him.  He began pumping into Sam’s sweet spot on every thrust and soon
Sam was arching and his hands clawed at Dean’s back.  “Oh, Dean.  Dean.  Fuck,
so close.  Gonna come!”
 
 “Do it, Sammy.  Wanna feel it,” Dean husked out.  The head of Dean’s cock
pressed into Sam’s prostate once more and Sam was coming.  His cock jumped as
it pumped out pearly ribbons of come over his and Dean’s chests and stomachs. 
Sam screamed his brother’s name as his muscles clenched around Dean, wrenching
his orgasm from him.
 
 “Sammy!”  Dean cried as he followed his brother into an orgasm so intense he
ended up collapsed on his brother.  Both of them panting for breath as they
held each other.
 
 Dean felt two strong hands heaving him up and off of Sam; he whipped his head
around just in time to see the fist flying toward his face.
 
 Through the blood pumping in his ears, he heard Sam yell, “Dad, no!”
 
 *        *        *        *        *
 John threw Dean’s clothes at him.  “Get dressed, and get out.”  Dean opened
his mouth to protest but was cut off by one look from his father.  Dean yanked
his jeans on and tugged his shirt over his head. 
 
 John turned to Sam, expression pained but dark   as his younger son scrambled
to cover his naked form with the sheets .  The hair on Dean’s neck stood up. 
He didn’t care if he got hit again, he couldn’t let anyone, even his father,
hurt his Sammy.  Dean stepped between his father and brother, but before he
could say anything he felt Sam’s hand tug at his wrist.  He looked back to see
Sam shake his head slightly, looking deep into Dean’s eyes in a plea to let
this lie, not get himself hurt anymore.
 
 John couldn’t look at his sons anymore.  “Pack your bag, Dean.  I‘m taking you
to Bobby’s.”
 
 “But Dad-“
 
 “Now, Dean.”  John didn’t wait for agreement; he walked back out, slamming the
front door behind him.
 
 Dean looked at his little brother and both spoke at once, their words
colliding as they reached for each other.
 
 “Sammy, I’m not goin’.  Not gonna leave you alone with him,” Dean said,
placing a chaste kiss to Sam’s lips.
 
 “No, Dean, you have to.  You have to.  Just for now, at least.  Dean if you
stay here, he’s gonna kill you,” Sam’s eyes filled with tears and the first one
slipped out down his cheek.  Dean pulled his brother close, tucking his head
into the crook of his neck and rubbing soothing circles into his back.
 
 “Shhh, it’s ok, baby boy.  I’ll go,” Dean pulled Sam’s head back up to look
into his eyes, “but I’m coming back for you as soon as I can, Sammy.”
 
 A strangled sob escaped Sam, “Dean, what are we gonna do? I can’t-De, I love
you, don’t wanna go back to before.”
 
 It was the worst kind of pain to see his Sammy hurting and Dean could feel his
own chest tighten at the thought of being without his brother for even one
night.  But he knew Sam was right, John was crazy right now, no telling what
he’d do.  Dean leaned forward to kiss Sam’s tear-stained cheek.  “We’re gonna
play along for tonight, Sammy.  Then just as soon as I can, I’ll be back and
we’ll get away from him.  Not gonna go back to before Sammy.  I couldn’t.  Love
you too damn much to let go.”
 
 The sound of the Impala’s engine revving outside broke the moment.  The boys
leaned together for one last kiss, both loathe to let go, but knowing it was a
necessary evil.
 
 Dean started to pull away and Sam’s hands fisted in his shirt holding him in
place.  “Promise, Dean.  Promise me you’ll be back and we’ll be together?”  Sam
asked, hazel eyes searching deep into Dean’s emerald gaze.
 
 “I promise, Sammy,” Dean breathed the words against those pink lips as he
pressed into them.  Sam let out a shaky breath.  He was still scared, but a
promise from Dean Winchester was golden and he knew his brother would fight
heaven, hell and everything in between to get back to him.
 
 Dean grabbed his bag and turned to shoot one last smile at Sam before
leaving. 
 *        *        *        *        *
 John drove in silence; the set in his jaw and the darkness in his eyes told
Dean to keep his own mouth shut as well.  He needed to just play along long
enough to get back to Sammy and get his brother away from his father before
John could do any damage.  All that mattered was that Sam was ok, and that
somehow he ended up with Dean. 
 
 They pulled up to Bobby’s house and John stopped the car.  “Get out,” John
said for the second time that night.  Dean opened the door and stepped out; it
was probably the only time he wasn’t happy to be at the old farmhouse.  Dean
had barely shut the door behind him when John pulled away.  He turned the car
around and then tore down the dirt driveway kicking up a cloud of dust that
left Dean coughing.
 
 He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the dirt from his face and that’s
when he realized how tight it was.  This was Sammy’s shirt.  He bent his head
and tugged the fabric up to his nose; it still held Sam’s scent.  The familiar
smell of his brother brought both comfort and a fresh wave of anguish.  He had
to get back to Sam. 
 
 Dean spent the night pacing.  And maybe he drank.  His brain kept churning
through everything that had happened.  Trying to figure out how it had
happened.  Trying to make it not be true.  Trying desperately to keep away from
any thought that involved harm coming to his brother.  He knew his father loved
Sam, but he was all too familiar with John Winchester’s temper and he feared
that once John got Sam alone his anger would overtake his love for his youngest
son.
 *        *        *        *        *
 When John returned three days later Dean was a wreck.  He hadn’t showered and
had barely slept for longer than an hour once or twice.  All he could think
about was getting back to Sam, so when the Impala pulled into the long driveway
he grabbed the bag he’d never unpacked and went out the door without a word to
Bobby.  It was irrational, he knew, Bobby hadn’t had anything to do with this,
but in Dean’s mind he was still complicit in keeping him from Sammy.
 
 By the time the screen door slammed behind Dean, his father was already out of
the Impala and had his hand on the door to his truck.  Neither father nor son
said a word.  Dean needed only to get back to Sam.  John had nothing to say to
his oldest, couldn’t even look at him yet.
 
 Dean pushed Baby to her limits on the drive back home.  Home being the brother
he loved more than his own life, not the crappy apartment.  He ran in, calling
Sam’s name.  No answer came.  Oh God, it was worse than he’d thought.  What the
hell had John done to Sam?  Was it so bad Sammy couldn’t even talk?  He ran
room to room throwing doors open and searching.  Each one was empty and after
each he became more desperate.  Maybe Sam had run while John had been driving
Dean to Bobby’s. 
 
 “Sammy?!” Dean shouted, hysteria edging into his deep voice.  “Sam?”
 
 “He’s gone,” John’s gruff voice came from behind him. 
 
 “Gone?”  When John did not answer Dean clenched his jaw and asked, “What. Did
you. Do?”
 
 John raised his eyes to Dean’s; his look was icy and dark, “I did what I had
to do to protect my son.  From you.”
 
 “What does that mean?  Where is Sam?  Where’s my brother?” Dean asked, he
wasn’t able to keep the panic from his voice.  His mind reeled with the
horrible thoughts of what a man like John was capable of. 
 
 “It means you’re sick, Dean.  Sam wasn’t safe with you, so I sent him
somewhere where he will be safe.”
 
 Dean’s eyes narrowed, but before he could even open his mouth to speak, John
was in his face, large hand wrapped in his collar, “You will leave him alone or
so help me…“ John shook Dean once before tossing him to the floor.  He stepped
over Dean and headed for the door.  “I can’t even look at you.  You make me
sick.”  The words were so full of revulsion and disgust, spit with such venom
that Dean thought he felt physical pain from them.  
 
 John paused with his hand on the door.  “Sam is safe, he’s gone.  You won’t
find him, and don’t you dare try.  You keep your perverse, twisted hands off
him.  You stay away from my son.”  And with that he left Dean alone on the
floor with his regrets, his panic and his dread that he might never be able to
keep his promise to Sammy.

 
   Chapter_3
***** Broken Road Home Chapter 3 *****
   [wbb-banner2700]



(See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)


 
 Chapter 3
  Sam stood in his dorm room; he imagined there was something he should be
doing or at least there must be something he could be doing.  Except nothing
made sense anymore.  In one day – no in one minute – his entire life had been
turned upside down and inside out.  He kept seeing Dean’s face, blissful, full
of love and passion all for Sam…and then the shock as he was ripped from Sam’s
arms and the sound of the impact of John’s fist.  Sam shook his head to clear
that image.  Of all the ways John had mistreated them over their lives, he had
never raised a fist to either of them.  Until now.
 
 Sam shoved his hands through his hair and began pacing the small space.  He
had no way of even knowing if Dean was ok.  Sam had truly never seen ice cold
rage like that in his father, not even when they hunted the most evil of
monsters.  He could only imagine what had been going on in John’s head walking
in on his sons like that.  If he had to guess, Sam would bet that John held
Dean accountable for what he saw as an unspeakable offense against his youngest
son.  Sam’s heart sank as he turned that over in his mind and he dropped onto
the bed.  John surely interpreted what he’d seen as Dean assaulting Sam…and –
Oh, God.  What if John had killed Dean?  What if his fury couldn’t be contained
and he just couldn’t stop once he’d hit Dean?
 
 Sam sprang up from the bed and paced again.  He had to know if Dean was okay,
alive at least. 
 
 “We’re gonna play along for tonight, Sammy….I promise, Sammy.”  Sam clung to
Dean’s words.  He just had to make it through the night, Dean would come for
him.  Except…John had whisked Sam away to this school in the middle of the
night and dropped him here with a different identity and a new, untraceable
cell.  One of John’s old marine buddies, Deacon, ran the place, some military
style reform school.  John had told Sam he was not to contact his brother, he
was to obey every rule.  Deacon would be keeping a special eye on Sam.  The
threat that sealed Sam’s obedience was that if John found out Sam had contacted
Dean, he would stop at nothing to make sure the two stayed apart.  Nothing. 
Sam swallowed a lump in his throat as his brain ran through all the images of
the pain John Winchester was capable of inflicting…and exactly how many of
those things he’d be willing to do to Dean.  It was a gamble Sam was not
willing to make.
 
 When John had returned from dropping Dean off at Bobby’s, Sam had been
surprised when John told him to pack his bag too.  He’d tried to get his father
to tell him where they were going, but all John would say was that Sam wouldn’t
be coming back so he should take everything he wanted to keep.  Sam had pressed
for some kind of information, any little piece of a hint he could leave for
Dean.  He feared that once John took Sam away from here, Dean wouldn’t be able
to find him soon enough.  The best he could do was leave a small clue under
Dean’s pillow to let his brother know Sam was still alive, still loved him. 
Because Sam knew Dean, and he knew his brother’s head would instantly go to one
of two places; the first being guilt and thinking that Sam wouldn’t want him,
and the second being that John had hurt Sam.
 
 As John had driven him to the school, Sam had tried to explain to John that it
wasn’t what he thought when he’d caught them.  Dean hadn’t taken advantage; Sam
was just as much a part of the decision.  John had cut Sam off with a single
look so heated it was all the warning Sam needed to shut his mouth.  “Your
brother hurt you, Sam.  And he’s managed to get your head so twisted you can’t
even see that.”
 
 “No, Dad, it’s not li–”
 
 “Sam, that is enough!” John shouted.  “You are to stay away from Dean.  That
is an order, and I’m not going to argue about it anymore.  He’s sick and I
won’t let him hurt you again.” 
 
 Sam collapsed back against the seat, arms folded over his chest, face set in a
scowl. 
 
 Now Sam was stuck here at this school, with no way of reaching Dean, and no
way of knowing if Dean would be able to find him.  His brother was an amazing
hunter and was better at research than he gave himself credit for, but John had
gone to great lengths to separate the two brothers.  Sam sat back on his bed
and drew his knees to his chest.  Dean had promised.  It might take longer than
the one night they had initially planned on, but Dean would come.  He made a
promise to Sam, and Dean would keep that promise.  He had to.  Sam needed him
to.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dean sat on his bed in the bedroom he had shared with Sam up until all hell
broke loose three days ago.  He looked across the room at Sam’s bed, still
mussed from that night and was flooded with images of Sam, naked, eyes lust-
blown, calling Dean’s name.  Sam’s absence was an ache and Dean forced his mind
away from the images of his brother. 
 
 He had never felt so helpless and lost.  No matter what evil thing they’d
hunted, he’d always known exactly where Sam was and that he was safe.  No
matter how many times John moved them around the country with no true home
base; he’d always had a center in his brother.
 
 Dean lay down on the bed, face in his pillow, and out of habit, his hand
reached under it to grip the familiar handle of his knife.  But it wasn’t his
knife he found this time.  His hand closed on a small slip of paper and he drew
it out from under his pillow.  As soon as he laid eyes on it, his mind flashed
back. 
 
 It was one of many nights Sam and Dean were left alone as John went out on a
job…or maybe that night it had been a bender.  Dean had just gotten his
paycheck and decided to surprise Sam with Chinese take-out.  Dean smiled as he
remembered the look on Sam’s face as he pulled cartons from the bag.  It wasn’t
like they never got Chinese, but Dean had splurged this time, getting every one
of Sam’s favorites.
 
 “Dean, what are we gonna do with all this food?”  Sam asked, eyes wide and
dimples on full display.
 
 Dean walked up behind his brother, wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and
rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder.  “We’re gonna eat, Sammy.  Eat as much as we
want until that bottomless pit of a stomach you have is stuffed.”  Sam ducked
his head as his grin turned shy.  Only the Winchester brothers really
understood how special this was.  Used to making due with PB&J for days, or
weeks, Sam’s growing body always craving more but never really having enough;
to have so much food they wouldn’t even be able to finish it was rare.  Dean
would never admit it, but Sam could tell Dean must have dropped more money than
John would ever approve of to give Sam this.
 
 “What about rent?” Sam asked.  Dean’s part time job at the garage was meant to
help John make ends meet.
 
 Dean shook his head; that his little brother had to know the stress of making
rent already did not sit well with him.  He smiled at Sam, “Don’t worry about
it, little brother.  I took a bodywork job on the side, made a little extra.” 
He paused to give Sam a quick peck on the mouth, “Now, eat.”
 
 Sam didn’t say anything, but Dean recognized the look that flitted through his
fox-eyes.  That look always went with Sam’s girliest of emotional outpourings,
but this time Sam just kissed Dean quietly before turning back to the food.
 
 They’d eaten and eaten until they were so full they couldn’t move.  Sam laid
on his back on the floor, Dean was sprawled on the couch above him, his fingers
absent-mindedly running over the slight bulge of Sam’s full belly.  Sam turned
and propped his head up on his hand, “Dean, we forgot the fortune cookies.”
 
 Dean groaned, “Ugh, no Sammy.  Can’t eat another bite.  ‘M stuffed.”
 
 Sam pulled himself to his feet, walked out to the kitchen and returned with
two cookies holding them out in his hands to his brother.  When Dean didn’t
move Sam dropped one on his brother’s chest and sat down on the floor with his
back against the couch.  “Come on, De, you have to read your fortune when you
eat Chinese.  It’s like tradition.”
 
 Dean may have rolled his eyes a little, but he still complied, because it was
Sam, and if something was important to Sam, it was important to Dean.  He
watched as Sam tore open the clear wrapper and cracked open his cookie.  Sam’s
face turned into a mischievous grin, “A pleasant surprise is in store for you
tonight.”  He turned to his older brother and waggled his eyebrows, “Got a
surprise for me, De?”
 
 Dean laughed and gently cuffed Sam’s head, “Always full a surprises, ain’t I,
Sammy?” 
 
 Sam rolled his eyes, “Open yours, Dean.”  It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes,
and when he didn’t move, Sam snatched the cookie up and opened it himself, “No
need to worry.  You will always have everything that you need.”  Sam looked up
from the fortune to find his brother’s green eyes studying him.
 
 “’s true, Sammy.”
 
 “What are you talking about, Dean?  We never have everything we need.”
 
 Dean leaned forward on the couch, running a hand over Sam’s cheek and into his
hair, “Sammy, as long as you’re safe and with me, I do have everything I need.”
 
 Sam didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, so he just leaned forward to
bring their mouths together in a kiss.
 
 Dean had never said anything, but he’d seen Sam tuck that little slip of paper
away, seen it in Sam’s wallet, caught Sam reading it once or twice.  Now Dean
gripped the tiny note between his calloused fingers and tears of relief rolled
down his face.  Sam was safe.  Damn kid was smart enough to find a way to let
Dean know in a way John would never figure out.
 
 Dean smiled.  Sam was safe; and Dean was going to find him.
 *        *        *        *        *
 The first night was easy enough to survive.  Sam figured John hadn’t even
brought Dean home yet.  The second night passed alright; after all, Dean would
need time to find Sam, especially since there had been no real clues to Sam’s
location.
 
 By the end of the first week, Sam was barely able to sleep or eat.  By the end
of the second he was wandering around in a complete fog.  After a month, Sam
stopped talking, not that he’d been seeking out much social contact before, but
now even if someone spoke directly to him he didn’t respond, just stared
blankly and walked away.
 
 Dean had not come for him.  He couldn’t understand how it was possible.  Dean
had promised.  He had promised.  Sam’s heart wasn’t broken; it was
obliterated.  Without Dean, he really saw little point to anything.
 
 After 6 weeks Sam started to panic.  Dean had promised, he would never, never
break a promise to his Sammy.  Sam knew that down in his very soul.  So the
only remaining explanation was that Dean was not able to get to him.  John’s
fist crushing Dean’s face played in his mind over and over and all Sam could
think was that John had killed Dean.
 
 Initially Sam was able to convince himself the idea was ridiculous.  John had
been angry, livid really, and though he wasn’t the most reasonable man, surely
he would not kill his own son.  But as weeks passed it began to be more
plausible that John had killed Dean than that Dean had broken his promise.
 
 Finally the panic got the better of Sam, and even John’s threats couldn’t hold
Sam back from reaching out.  He had to know if Dean was okay.  Alive, if not
unharmed.
 
 He was sure even if Dean were still physically intact, John would have
destroyed his phone and any chance for Sam to contact him.  He was equally sure
John would be monitoring the cell he’d given his youngest son.  And since Sam’s
distance had bought him no friends, his only option was to fall back on some of
his hunting skills that were questionable in legality.
 
 He waited in the library bathroom, perched on a toilet as security made their
rounds before locking everything up.  Sam climbed down and crept silently from
the stall, out of the bathroom to the front desk.  He grabbed the phone off the
desk and sat on the floor with it.  He dialed a number he’d known by heart
since he could dial a phone.
 
 “Singer Salvage,” a familiar gruff voice answered.
 
 Sam let out a shaky breath before he spoke, “Bobby?”
 
 “Sam?”
 
 “Yeah, Uncle Bobby, it’s me.”
 
 “Good to hear your voice, son.  This ain’t the number of the cell your dad
said you had.  Everything ok?”
 
 Sam sucked in air and braced himself.  “I didn’t want him to know I was
calling…I, uh, I have to ask you something, Bobby.  And I don’t want to put you
in the middle of anything, but I-I just have to know.  I can’t…I just need an
answer.”  There was silence on the other end of the line.  Sam pressed on,
“Dean.  Is Dean ok?  I mean, did Dad, did he…” Sam’s voice cut off, he couldn’t
even bring himself to say the words out loud.
 
 Bobby sighed heavily, his voice coming out a tired rasp, “He’s fine, Sam. 
John didn’t, well… he didn’t do more than what you saw to him.”  Bobby dragged
in another ragged breath, “But Sam, I, I don’t think.  I mean, I think it’s
better for you both to…Just, try to move on Sam.  Take your chance to find that
normal life you always wanted.”
 
 Sam hadn’t missed the way Bobby stressed the word “normal,” and almost as much
as he’d feared hearing bad news about Dean, he feared Bobby’s judgment and what
that judgment would do to his relationship with the man who had been pretty
much a father to him and his brother.  “All I wanted was to know that my
brother was alive.  I don’t expect you to understand…everything, Bobby.  But I
thought you could understand at least that.”
 
 There was silence for a moment, then Bobby spoke voice uncharacteristically
quiet, “I guess I do understand that much.”
 
 Sam took a deep breath, bracing for the next question, “Bobby, does he know
where I am?”
 
 “No, John won’t tell anyone.  Not even me.”
 
 Sam wasn’t sure if he should be relieved that Dean had a reason for not
coming, or even more upset that Dean would have to fight to find him.  “Bobby,
can you-Will you tell him I’m-“
 
 “Sam, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Bobby cut Sam off before he could
disclose his location.  As much as Bobby wanted to know Sam was safe, he knew
he’d have trouble hiding the secret that he knew from John.  And revealing that
could only lead to more trouble for Sam…or Dean. 
 
 “Could you at least let him know I’m ok too?”
 
 “Yeah, guess that won’t do no harm.”
 
 “And…that I …” Sam wanted so badly to pass on the message that he loved Dean,
but given Bobby’s earlier reaction he guessed that wasn’t going to go over
well.  “Tell him that I miss him.”
 
 Bobby sighed again, and there was a longer pause this time.  “I…alright, Sam. 
I will.”
 
 “Thanks Uncle Bobby.  Good bye.”
 
 “Bye, son.”
 
 Sam hung up the phone and let out the breath he’d been holding.  It hadn’t
been a total success, but at least Sam knew Dean was ok.  And Dean would know
that Sam was alright.  It was the first glimmer of hope Sam had felt in months.
 
 *        *        *        *        *
 
 Dean sat at Bobby’s kitchen table.  A seat he’d occupied thousands of times,
but nothing about this situation felt familiar.  Sammy was missing from the
seat beside him, there was no smell of food floating around the room and Bobby
was acting strangely.  The older man was pacing the worn floorboards and had
yet to look Dean in the eye. 
 
 “Something wrong, Bobby?” Dean asked, hoping to get what was sure to be an
uncomfortable conversation started and finished as quickly as possible.
 
 “Yeah.  Uh, look, son.  I, um.  Your father-I know….I don’t really… Balls!” 
Bobby spat out, swiping a hand down his beard.  “Look, Dean.  I don’t know what
to say about any of this.  You know I ain’t always seen eye to eye with your
dad.  But, well, some things just ain’t…well.  I don’t want to get in the
middle of this one, Dean.  I can’t say I understand this thing, but I don’t
like seeing you like ya been.  And I told Sam I would pass this on.”  At the
mention that Bobby had actually heard from Sam, Dean’s ears perked up.
 
 “You talked to Sammy?”
 
 Bobby looked at Dean for the first time since he’d arrived.  “Yeah.  He called
here.”  Bobby raised a hand when he saw Dean about to interrupt.  “I don’t know
where he is Dean.  Didn’t ask.  He wanted to know if you were ok, think he
thought your father…think he thought the worst, Dean.” 
 
 Dean swallowed hard; he couldn’t imagine how worried Sam must have been.  Dean
had been trying everything he could think of to track down where John had
stashed Sam, but he’d gotten nowhere.  Every day that went by when Dean was
unable to keep his promise to his little brother tortured him.
 
 “I told him you were fine.  He wanted me to tell you that he’s ok.  And
that…that he…He said he misses you, Dean.”  Bobby pushed out the last sentence
in a rush as if just the words being in his mouth made him uncomfortable.
 
 Dean blew out an unsteady breath.  He had been sure Sam was ok since he’d seen
that fortune, but as time had gone by he’d worried Sam would be miserable that
Dean hadn’t fulfilled his promise.  And as weeks turned into months he worried
what that misery might push Sam to do.  Dean looked up at Bobby, who
immediately looked away.  He knew something.
 
 “Well, thanks, Bobby.  I know you don’t…understand all this,” Dean made a
vague hand motion, “but I really appreciate you letting me know Sammy’s ok.” 
Bobby gave a curt nod.  “So, he called you?”  Bobby nodded again.  “But he
didn’t say where he was?  You didn’t ask?”
 
 Bobby’s head dropped.  “I think he wanted to tell me.  But I cut him off. 
Thought it was better if I didn’t know.  Couldn’t be tempted to give out the
information that way.”
 
 Dean eyed the older man carefully and nodded slowly. “Uh-huh.”  Neither man
said anything and Dean let the silence sit for a few moments.  “So, Bobby, you
mind if I spend the night here before I head back out.  Gotta meet Dad for a
job, but I sure could use a little shut-eye.”
 
 “ ‘Course, son.  Room’s always there.”
 
 Dean stood and stretched.  “Thanks.  Gonna head upstairs now.  ‘s late.” 
Bobby tilted his head in acknowledgment and Dean went up the old staircase.
 
 He waited in his room until he heard the creak of the floorboards he knew was
the sound of Bobby headed to his own bed.  Dean crept down the stairs, careful
to avoid all the spots he knew would creak the loudest, and made his way to
Bobby’s wall of phones.  He looked them over and picked up the one under the
masking tape marked “Singer Salvage.” He was pretty sure it would be the one
Sam would try first; had been the first number he taught Sammy to memorize.  He
clicked the button to open the caller I.D. list.
 
 “Already erased it.” Bobby’s gruff voice came from behind him and Dean
startled.  Once Bobby’s words hit Dean’s brain, his head fell.  He’d finally
thought he’d gotten his hands on a real lead and now it was gone.  He was still
no closer to finding his little brother.
 
 Bobby heaved a sigh.  “Look, Dean, I know you’re worried about Sam, but don’t
be.  He’s fine.”
 
 “He’s not fine, Bobby.  He’s out there alone.  He needs-“ Dean wanted to say
me, Sammy needs me, but he stopped himself.  “He needs his family.”
 
 Bobby’s head drooped.  “He’s at a school, Dean.”  Dean’s eyes grew wide.  Was
Bobby about to tell him where Sammy was?  His heart pounded as he waited for
Bobby to continue.
 
 “It’s a real good school.  This is his chance, a chance for a normal life. 
The life he’s always wanted,” Bobby paused to draw in a deep breath, “I think
it’s best you leave that boy be.  He deserves that; deserves college and a wife
and kid and everything huntin’ don’t get ya.”
 
 Dean heard what Bobby wasn’t saying, that Sam deserved a life that didn’t
include sleeping with his brother.  It stung.  Dean had thought the same thing
once, but Sam had insisted that Dean was all he ever wanted.  Now Dean wondered
if Bobby might have a point.
 *        *        *        *        *
 After his conversation with Bobby, Sam found new energy in his belief that he
and Dean would be together.  He decided he might need to help things along a
little.  Sam began combing the papers and the internet for anything that
resembled a job near him.  He went to investigate, or sometimes just to lurk
and watch.  Hoping for a glimpse of a black car, or a leather jacket that would
mean Dean was close.  On the weekends he would venture further out.
 
 Another month passed and Sam had no luck running into his brother.  He’d run
into a few other hunters, but never another Winchester.  He lost hope, figuring
John would never bring Dean on a job in this state.  Too risky.  Sam stopped
searching for hunts and fell back into his silence. 
 
 One day in the library, he saw an obvious case on the front page of the
newspaper for the next town over.  Sam tried to ignore it, but it was like a
tugging at his brain.  He began to think maybe John wouldn’t bring them to this
state…but maybe Dean had broken off from his father.  It was the only hope he
had and he clung to it.  If he could just find Dean, Sam was completely sure
they could be together and be happy.
 
 The hope, the tiny ray of “maybe” in Sam’s life allowed him to come out of the
silence that had gripped him.  He was participating in his classes, and he’d
even started talking to his roommate.  Turned out Jason was a really nice guy.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Before Dean had gone to see Bobby he’d spent every minute he could trying to
hunt down his brother.  He had waited for John to pass out, a near nightly
occurrence now, and searched every inch of everything John owned.  Found
nothing.  He’d gone back to the apartment and questioned all the neighbors, but
John had covered his tracks well.  Dean found nothing.  He called hospitals and
foster agencies.  Nothing.
 
 Dean had really pretty much given up when he’d gotten the call from Bobby
asking him to come see him.  At first he thought maybe Bobby was right.  Maybe
Sam did deserve better than him, deserved a picket fence, kids and a wife.  He
tried not looking for Sam, but within a few days he couldn’t stand it.  Losing
Sam was like having a limb torn off…or like having his very soul ripped from
his chest.  He simply could not live without his brother; and he knew Sam felt
the same way.
 
 “Come on, De, just wanna be closer to you.  Love you.”
 
 After that talk with Bobby, he tried to search some schools, but there were so
many, and John could have sent Sam anywhere in the country.  Hell, John may
have sent Sam out of the country.  John Winchester always won.
 
 In between his searches, he was subjected to John’s drunken rants.  His father
used all kinds of words to describe Dean and his relationship with Sammy. 
John’s favorites seemed to be “sick” twisted” and “perverted.”  Eventually the
verbal assaults even happened on the rare nights when John wasn’t smashed. 
Told Dean what a useless piece of shit he was, and how dare he take advantage
of his brother like that.  “Supposed to look out for him, Dean, not molest and
rape him.”
 
 Dean cringed at the words.  He hadn’t hurt Sammy, he knew he hadn’t.  Sam had
wanted to be with Dean.  They loved each other.  It was so clear . . . at
first.
 
 But months of John’s words took their toll.  Few people knew which of Dean’s
buttons to push and exactly how to push them to bring him down the way his
father did.  Dean started to question everything.  Had he led Sam into this? 
Maybe he was just as sick and twisted as his father said; evil enough to bend
Sam’s mind into believing he loved Dean, wanted Dean, when really Sam only
wanted brotherly affection from him.
 
 The thought that he had hurt Sam twisted in his gut until he felt ill.  Until
he threw up every night before he went to bed.   John would grunt from the
other room, yelling over the retching noises, “That’s right.  So vile you make
yourself sick.  You disgusting pervert.”
 
 Dean didn’t bother to argue anymore.  Even if Sam thought he wanted to be with
Dean, it was wrong and Dean should never have let anything happen between
them.  The only way to make this right was to keep Sam away, protect his little
brother from himself.  John was right, Dean was sick.  Bobby was right; Sam
deserved better.
 
 And Dean had never deserved Sam.

 

 
   Chapter_4
***** Broken Road Home Chapter 4 *****
   [wbb-banner2700]



(See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)


 
 Chapter 4
  Senior year came with a twisted pile of emotions for Sam Winchester.  It had
been nearly a year since he’d been ripped from Dean’s side and that loss still
ached in a way he simply couldn’t put into words.  The only way he could even
begin to cope with it was his unshakable belief that Dean would keep his
promise.  As the months had worn on it hurt too much for Sam to think that his
brother would come for him “any day” and he’d made the subtle but important
shift to Dean coming for him “someday”.  Any day kept him hanging on every
second, watching every door, existing only to wait.  Someday meant he hadn’t
given up hope but he could live his life in the meantime.
 
 He continued following local hunts, and over the summer he’d ventured further
out, but could only get so far given his weekly “check-ins” with Deacon.  He
solved a few cases, saved a few people, but he’d not encountered any hint of
his brother or John.  In his darker moments Sam resented the days that passed
with no Dean showing up at his door.  He was fairly certain that Dean was still
with his father and that John still had them moving all over the country.  Sam,
on the other hand, had remained in the same school, in fact in the very same
dorm, all this time.  It seemed much easier for Dean to find Sam than for Sam
to find Dean.  The pouty little brother in him wanted to cross his arms and
throw himself on his bed and whine that it wasn’t fair, that if Dean really
loved him, he would find Sam.
 
 Those moments were usually fleeting; deep down Sam clung to his steadfast
belief in his and Dean’s love for each other.  He’d witnessed firsthand how
difficult John could make finding someone he wanted to stay hidden.  So, Sam
dug in and made the best of his situation.  He stopped hermitting himself away
and was able to make a few close friends.  His roommate had helped with that. 
Jason was a good guy; he didn’t even hold Sam’s bizarre behavior during those
first few painful months against him.  Said he understood how hard it could be
to be away from home for the first time.  Right, like Sam even had a home to be
away from.  Unless you counted Dean.
 
 Entering senior year also meant Sam was closer to graduating, and being in the
same school for so long had given him the hope of earning a scholarship, making
his far-off dream of going to college very real.  It couldn’t cure all the
pain, but it did take some of the sting out.  A little slice of normal in a
life that had been anything but.
 
 It was a crisp autumn day and Sam was headed to a study group for his
Economics class, and for the first time in ages he felt himself smiling without
provocation.  Tonight he would probably twist in his sheets with loneliness and
heartache, but right now he was just a normal kid going to school, getting
ready for college, on his way to study with his friends.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dean sat bolt upright in bed.  Sweat ran down his chest and his lungs heaved
gulps of air in and out.  He blinked and peered around the dark space.  Another
dirty motel, John passed out and snoring in the next bed; whiskey seeping out
of his pores so thick the stench filled the room.  Dean sighed as he swung his
legs out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself.  A glance in
the mirror on the way by revealed dark circles under his dull green eyes, hints
of his ribs visible under skin that sagged, growth on his jaw that was beyond
stubble but hadn’t yet reached beard.
 
 The nightmares weren’t new; the images varied somewhat but were always some
version of his little brother hurt, crying, bleeding, alone.  In many Dean
couldn’t get to Sammy; had to watch him cry from a distance, until Dean woke up
in tears himself.  Some were just Dean walking through an endless maze, hearing
Sam’s voice, hearing his sobs, but never able to find him.  Sometimes Dean did
get to him, tried to save him, only to be met with Sammy’s hazel eyes wide with
terror, little brother begging him, “Please, Dean.  Don’t hurt me.  Not
again.”  That one usually ended with Dean waking up to vomit.  Sometimes he
made it to the bathroom first but more often than not he didn’t.  
 
 Tonight’s hell had been a whole new vision.  Snippets of Sam talking, floating
through his head; disembodied voice of his brother so full of anguish.  “Said
you loved me, De.”  “Promised to come for me.”  “Needed you.”  Dean had tried
to find the source of the voice; he needed more than anything to reassure Sam. 
The only real certainty in Dean’s life had been his love for Sammy.  Dean found
himself in front of a door and he opened it to see himself leaning in to kiss
Sam that day by the Impala.  He stepped through the door and the scene in front
of him dissolved, leaving only another door.  Dean opened it and wandered down
a long hallway, opening doors, each one revealing a scene of Sam and Dean that
would evaporate as he tried to approach:  on the hood of his baby holding Sam
in his arms, in the shower at the apartment on his knees lips wrapped around
Sam’s cock, on the couch tangled up in each others’ arms and legs, Sam
stretched out on the bed, leg over Dean’s back as Dean used his tongue to open
him up.
 
 Dean reached the door at the end of the hall, his heart pounded and he
swallowed over the enormous lump in his throat as he reached for the knob.  He
opened the door to see Sam in an unfamiliar room, another guy Sam’s age there
on the bed with him.  The two leaned in and when Dean realized he was about to
see Sam kiss someone else he felt his broken heart freeze in his chest.  He
opened his mouth to call for his brother, to scream, anything to stop this from
happening.  No sound came out, but Sammy still looked up at him.  “If you had
ever really cared, you would have been here.”
 
 Dean shook his head, tried to argue but no sound could escape his tightened
throat.  No.  No!  That wasn’t it, wasn’t it at all.  John had taken Sammy from
him, hidden him away.  Dean tried to find Sam, but…Dean’s mind grew foggy as he
tried to remember what had kept him from Sam.  John’s face flashed through his
mind’s eye and he knew his father had done something to him, but he couldn’t
remember what it was now.
 
 “He was wrong, Dean.  I loved you.  But if you could ever believe his bullshit
for even a second, then maybe you never really loved me.”  Sam looked away from
Dean, turned back to the guy on the bed their lips growing closer and closer
together.
 
 “I always loved you, Sammy.  Only thing I ever knew for sure was that you were
mine, to love, to keep safe.”  Dean fell to his knees, “Please, Sammy.  This is
the one true thing in my world.”
 
 Sammy’s dimpled grin lit up and Dean felt the pieces of his world come
together again.  Sam stood from the bed and walked toward him. “I knew it.  Was
so worried when you didn’t come, but I knew you still loved me.”
 
 Dean watched in helpless horror as his father appeared behind Sam, face dark,
hands reaching for the youngest Winchester.  Dean tried to scream but no sound
came out; crushing pain enveloped his chest – and that’s when Dean woke to find
himself here, in this dingy room.
 
 He knew it was only a dream, but there was truth in it.  He splashed water on
his face, letting himself wake up.  John had been so far from right about
this.  His months of digging in to Dean’s insecurities had allowed him to get
under his eldest son’s skin, but now Dean saw the truth again.  There was
nothing wrong about his and Sam’s love.  And Sam absolutely loved Dean full and
deep and true; the exact same way Dean loved him.
 
 A smile spread across Dean’s chapped lips, skin worn thin by too many hours
spent worrying the flesh between his teeth.  He wouldn’t allow John’s words to
keep him from the place he belonged most in the world anymore. 
 *        *        *        *        *
 “The gross domestic product is the sum of the market values of all final goods
and services produced within a particular country during a period of time,” Sam
answered, a blush blooming across his cheeks as Jason grinned back at him.
 
 “That’s perfect, Sam,” Jason said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  Sam
ducked his head and grinned harder, his dimples coming out in full force.  It
had been an easy question and Sam felt undeserving of the level of Jason’s
praise, but the warmth from his friend’s hand on his shoulder felt too good to
turn down.  It had been too long since he’d let anybody get close enough to
touch him.
 
 The rest of the study session passed in similar fashion to every other study
group.  Quizzing each other, arguing about answers, congratulating each other
when they worked through a more challenging question.  Throughout it all, Sam
felt Jason’s eyes on him and when Jason wasn’t watching him, Sam was stealing
glances at him.  He was a pretty good-looking guy.  Tall, though not quite as
tall as Sam, broad shoulders, thick black hair, warm brown eyes, a smile that
was just a bit crooked and it made Sam’s skin tingle every time it was directed
at him.
 
 Sam hadn’t given much thought to his sexuality before Dean, and he’d never
really thought it would matter since he had always been so sure Dean was his
soul mate.  Once they had connected Sam hadn’t planned on being with anyone
else, so his initial reaction to Jason’s subtle flirting caught him off guard. 
First he denied that it had any effect on him at all.  Then he realized he
liked the attention from the other boy, and that was followed quickly by a
hammering wave of guilt.  He was Dean’s; he only wanted to be with Dean.  But
Dean hadn’t come for him, and as his emotions grew increasingly muddy, the
warmth he felt with Jason became a bright spot he allowed himself.
 
 Tony, one of the few friends he’d allowed himself to really get close to, had
warned that perhaps hooking up with his roommate wasn’t the best idea.  If
things went badly, they would still be right under each other’s noses.  This
thought had never occurred to Sam; his one and only relationship had been with
the one person that was always there under his nose.  He meant to keep things
at a distance, letting himself have the small joy of that crooked smile, but
not actually having a relationship.
 
 Too many late night conversations, too many furtive coy glances across the
room, so many shared classes, exams and school events, and soon Sam found
himself having to fight a desire to seek Jason out…and then found himself not
wanting to fight so hard.  Of course he missed Dean, it was like a constant
ache in his body down to his bones, but he grew accustomed to living with that
hurt, until he almost forgot the source and remembered only the pain.
 
 He knew so much about the other boy now.  Jason’s father had died when he was
in middle school.  His mother did her best, but with three kids she had to work
two jobs just to make ends meet and that left Jason’s older sister to watch
them most of the time.  Unsupervised, Jason started getting into trouble,
nothing major, skipping school, shoplifting.  His mother had shipped him off to
this school after he’d started drinking, saying she wouldn’t let him get any
further down the “wrong path.”
 
 Sam could sympathize with some of his roommate’s story, and he shared what he
could, being careful to avoid talk of hunting or falling in love with his
brother.  He talked about his mother dying when he was a baby; a father who
tried, but dragged them from town to town looking for jobs and a brother who
looked after him as best he could given he wasn’t that much older than Sam. 
 
 During some of the late night talks, Jason would talk about his past
relationships.  “I’m bi, I guess.  I mean, I’ve been with guys and girls.  No
one really serious, mostly just hook-ups.”
 
 Sam nodded, though really he didn’t know.  He’d only been with one person.
 
 “There was this one guy, Aaron.  Fell for him, pretty hard.  I never felt like
that before, it was like the sun rose and set with him.  I couldn’t think about
anything else, and didn’t even care.”
 
 “Yeah,” Sam said, traces of a smile teasing around his lips.  That was pretty
much how he would describe his feelings for Dean.  He sighed, “So, what
happened?”
 
 “The guy freaked when he realized how deep in I was.  Outted me in front of
the whole school.  Everyone started giving me shit about it, didn’t care
until,” Jason paused and looked down taking a deep breath before pressing on,
“until he started laughing right along with everyone else.”
 
 “Damn.  That’s-I’m sorry, man.  That’s cold.”
 
 Jason nodded, “It broke my heart.  I was a fuckin’ wreck, barely ate, never
talked to anyone.”  He cleared his throat and looked back up at Sam, “I haven’t
trusted another guy since that.”
 
 Sam swallowed hard.  He’d been through heartbreak, and he wanted to share,
reach into this connection Jason was offering.  He supposed if he just
sanitized it a bit, he could share his story.  “I was with this guy, Dean.” 
Sam was suddenly grateful he hadn’t shared his brother’s name before, “Felt
like that between us too.  Couldn’t imagine being without him.  Loved him so
much it almost hurt.”  A small pained smile plucked at Sam’s lips and his head
angled down.
 
 “What happened?”
 
 A wry humorless chuckle fell from his mouth before he could think better of
it.  “My dad found out.  Didn’t approve.  He, uh, he actually walked in on us
while…”
 
 Jason’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, shit.”
 
 “Yeah.  Dad ripped the guy off me, decked him and hauled me off to this place
that night.”  Sam stared at his hands, talking about Dean somehow
simultaneously soothed him and reopened the wound. 
 
 “I’m sorry, dude.  That sucks.  You ever talk to Dean again?”
 
 Sam swallowed against the sudden surge of pain in his chest.  Tears burned
behind his eyes and he couldn’t find his voice to answer his friend so he
simply shook his head.
 
 Jason had seen the anguish in his face and came to sit on Sam’s bed, putting
an arm around his shoulders and letting Sam’s head rest against his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he said, hand stroking up and down Sam’s arm, “that’s gotta
be awful.  No closure, just having someone you love like that torn away from
you.”  Sam nodded as the tears started to really slide down his cheeks.  “You
ever try to reach him?”
 
 Sam took a shaky breath before speaking, “Tried, but Dad has me under pretty
tight surveillance here.  Deacon is an old military buddy of my father’s and…”
Sam trailed off not even able to find the words to fully explain the
helplessness he felt in the face of his situation.
 
 Jason nodded.  “And Dean probably has no idea you’re here, huh?”  Sam just
shook his head again, allowing himself to rest against Jason’s chest.
 
 “He always said he’d look for me.  I don’t even know if he still feels the
same way about me anymore.  It‘s been a year now.”  Sam’s voice came out so
small he almost didn’t recognize it himself.
 
 “Well, he’d be a real dumbass to let a guy like you go,” Jason said quietly. 
Sam raised his head and looked into those brown eyes, so soft.  He raised a
hand and brushed dark hair away from Jason’s forehead, hesitated for only a
second before leaning in and placing the softest of kisses to Jason’s lips.
 
 “Thank you,” Sam whispered.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Once Dean realized how much he’d let John’s words influence him, how he’d
allowed himself to believe that what he had with Sammy was dirty, how he’d let
John keep him from his brother for so long, it became clear what Dean needed to
do.  John wasn’t going to stop.  It had been barely 24 hours since Dean had
come to his senses and John was already on his third tirade. 
 
 Dean wouldn’t exactly say he was self-aware, actually Dean would probably
never let those words anywhere near his lips, but Dean knew himself and his
father well enough to know how this would play out.  He was strong right now,
his renewed pledge to Sammy fresh in his mind and heart, his conviction that
their love was good and real front and center in his consciousness.  But John
would just keep pushing Dean’s buttons until he wore him down again.  The names
would get nastier, the insults would cut deeper and Dean would be right back in
the place he’d just escaped. 
 
 Dean faced a second problem.  As long as John was right here, breathing down
his neck, Dean’s search for his brother would never get anywhere.  And more
than anything Dean needed to find Sammy.  He needed to hold him again. 
Apologize; beg forgiveness for taking so long.  Kiss those perfect pink lips
until they both went breathless. 
 
 The only solution to both these problems was for Dean to get away from John. 
If he’d been stronger, Dean would have gone off on his own months and months
ago.  He would have run from John the first night and found Sam.  He wouldn’t
have let John tear them apart without a fight.  If Dean had done this right, he
and Sam would be together right now.
 
 John seemed to sense something was going on in his eldest’s head, because he
began to watch him just a little more closely.  He tried to keep Dean more
involved, busier with whatever case he could find quickest.  Dean wanted to
help people, really he did.  But the one person he wanted most to help was
Sammy.
 
 Dean waited John out; though the elder man had been keeping a hawk-eye on his
son for the last few days, Dean knew eventually the old man’s need for booze
would take hold.  It only took 3 days before John had downed the better part of
a bottle of Jack and Dean watched his eyes get heavier and heavier.  Of course,
with the whiskey came the return of the nastiest of the insults John could
level upon Dean.   Dean just bided his time, knowing this would be the last
time he’d have to endure John’s vitriol. 
 
 By 2am his father was passed out, head on the table in a growing puddle of his
own drool.  Dean wasted no time; he immediately gathered his meager belongings
and shoved them into his duffel.  He double checked his wallet for the fortune
cookie note Sam had left him and smiled as he ran his thumb over it, “Soon,
Sammy,” he whispered, “I’m on my way.  Sorry it took me so long, baby boy.”  He
sneered at his father’s snoring form as he walked past the salt line and out to
the Impala.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Sam was studying.  Well, he was trying, but the nose nuzzling his ear was just
a bit distracting. 
 
 “Come on, man.  We have an exam tomorrow,” Sam protested, gently pushing Jason
back out of his space.
 
 Jason groaned, “We have all night.  I think we can afford one short break,
don’t you?”
 
 Sam looked up and was met with pleading brown eyes.  Liquid and warm….and
irresistible.  He sighed as he closed his book, “Alright.  One short break. 
Then we get back to work.”
 
 Jason beamed as he leaned toward Sam, “Absolutely.”  His lips met Sam’s and
Sam really couldn’t care about his test any less right now.  He just needed
touch.  Jason grabbed Sam’s book and dropped it on the floor with his own.  Sam
grinned and they turned to face each other on the bed.  Jason answered with his
own lopsided smile as he tugged Sam back in for another kiss. 
 
 Sam’s hands pushed into Jason’s thick hair as their lips slid together and
Jason moaned into the kiss.  Jason’s tongue teased at the seam of Sam’s lips
and Sam readily opened to allow Jason access.  Their tongues twisted together
and they both moved at the same time to get closer.  Jason broke from Sam’s
lips to trail open mouthed kisses down his neck.  Dean’s face flashed behind
Sam’s eyes and Sam felt a pang of guilt but when Jason stopped to suck at the
skin, the image of his brother dissolved and a moan escaped him.  Jason bit
into the muscle where his neck and shoulder met and Sam swore and pushed him
back onto the mattress.
 
 Jason let out a brief chuckle until he found himself pinned under six feet
plus of very aroused Sam Winchester.  Sam smiled slyly as he rolled his hips. 
Jason’s head fell back as their erections came into contact through their
jeans.  Jason’s hands landed on Sam’s hips as he bucked up into the sensation. 
Sam’s head spun with the sensation of their cocks rutting together.  It had
been so long and he knew he was going to come much too quickly.
 
 “Fuck,” Jason cursed beneath him, “Sam.  I’m gonna – fuck, been a long time,
can’t-“
 
 “ ‘s ok, Jay.  Me too,” Sam answered with a nip to Jason’s lower lip.  Jason
captured Sam’s mouth in another kiss as his hands moved to the tight muscles of
Sam’s ass.  Both let out curses as they worked their hips together faster,
chasing their release.  Jason’s orgasm hit first, he bucked up into Sam hard as
his hands squeezed into Sam’s ass.  The knowledge that Jason had just come and
the feeling of his hands on Sam pushed Sam over the edge; he bit into Jason’s
shoulder as he rode out his own climax. 
 
 “That was so much better than Econ,” Jason joked, and Sam laughed as he sat
back up on the bed.  He winced at the mess in his boxers.
 
 “It was,” he said kissing Jason sweetly, “but we still have an exam tomorrow.”
 
 “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “way to kill the afterglow.”  Sam laughed again as he
watched Jason gingerly stand up from the bed.  “Can we at least clean up before
you crack the whip?”
 
 Sam laughed again, “Of course.”  He shook his head fondly as Jason grabbed
clean shorts and headed for the shared bathroom down the hall.  As Jason
disappeared into the hallway his smile slowly faded.  He wanted to be happy,
and Jason was such a good guy.  But Sam couldn’t escape a thought tugging at
the back of his mind.  He hadn’t seen or even spoken to Dean in a year, but it
still felt like he’d just betrayed his brother.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dean took another drink of his coffee and grimaced.  It had long since gone
cold, but he still needed the caffeine.  He wasn’t sure where to go yet, but
was starting with simply putting distance between himself and John.  A quick
check of his funds at the last fill up had revealed less than ideal
circumstances.  He ditched the credit cards, knowing they would be the first
thing his father would use to try to track him.  That left him with a couple
hundred dollars.  Enough to fill baby a few times, but not enough for a motel
room if he wanted to stretch it.
 
 He drove for 7 hours in one direction, then another 4 in a different one,
hoping a zigzag would get him far enough away and also throw John off at least
a bit.  When caffeine was no longer enough to keep his eyes open, he turned the
Impala down a quiet dirt road and parked for the night.  He pulled an old
blanket out of the trunk and wrapped himself in it, exhaustion allowing him to
fall immediately to sleep.
 
 For the first time in months, Dean slept without nightmares, and upon waking
he smiled.  He was on his way to Sammy, and things felt right after a year of
feeling so completely wrong.  Dean unfolded himself from the back seat,
standing outside Baby to stretch.  He shoved the blanket back in the trunk and
headed out toward the two lane highway; he’d seen a sign for a town up ahead
and he needed food and money.  Hopefully he would find a diner for breakfast
and a bar with people just gullible enough to give up their cash to a halfway
decent hustle.
 
 He found the diner first, stomach grumbling as he ordered.  When he tried to
remember the last time he’d actually been interested in food, the best he could
come up with was “a very long time ago,” his tightened belt a testament to his
lack of appetite.  He got the double lumberjack special, with extra bacon and
while he waited he went to the bathroom to clean up and change.  He shaved the
overgrowth from his face and brushed his teeth.  Looking his best always
brought better results from a hustle.  He would kill a few hours doing a little
research and then hit the happy hour rush at the local bar.
 
 By late evening he was back on the road, belly and wallet full.  He wasn’t
sure where to begin looking for Sam, but his first stop was going to be a
library.  Research was never his favorite part of any hunt, but he’d do
anything to get to Sam.  It seemed the least of the penance due for failing to
get to Sammy for a whole year after he’d promised him one night.
 
 He started with a map, pinning the location of the apartment they’d been in
and figuring how far John could have gotten in those 3 days he’d been at
Bobby’s.  This gave him a large circle; he narrowed it from there by guessing
that John would have kept Sam further from Bobby’s rather than closer.  With
this area, Dean began working up a list of boarding schools there.  Some he’d
checked before, in those months before John had beaten him down into giving up
and those he crossed off.
 
 A glance at his watch told him it was too late to start much of anything for
tonight, so he grabbed a motel room and slept before hitting the road as the
sun rose the next day.  Dean pointed the Impala towards the area he’d
determined must hold his brother.  He pressed his foot into the gas pedal
harder not wanting to waste another second. 
 
 Dean was going to find his Sammy.

 

 
     Chapter_5
***** Broken Road Home Chapter 5 *****
   [wbb-banner2700]




(See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)


 
 Chapter 5
Dean shut the door of the Impala and stood to straighten his tie.  He was at
the 17th (or was it 27th?) school on his list.  So far all he’d been able to
accomplish was crossing places off his list, and that wasn’t a bad thing, but
he felt like the clock was ticking; he just had to get to Sam.  He cursed
himself under his breath one more time as he walked towards the admissions
office.
 
 A pretty brunette sat at a large mahogany desk just inside the front door, her
petite frame completely dwarfed by the immensity of the furniture around her. 
Dean flashed his most charming grin at her and watched her cheeks tint pink.
 
 “Hey there, sweetheart.  I’m looking for someone, and I’m hoping you might be
able to help me,” he drawled.
 
 The girl blinked behind her glasses and ducked her head with a tiny giggle. “I
hope so too.  What can I do?”
 
 He grinned again, and pulled his fake badge from his pocket, flashing it
quickly before tucking it away again.  “I’m Officer Young, I’m investigating a
missing person.  I’ll need a list of your students, and pictures would be
good.”
 
 “Of course, Officer, whatever you need” she said leaning forward slightly to
give Dean a peek at her cleavage.  “I can get you a list.  Gonna take a couple
hours though.”
 
 “Couple hours?”
 
 “Yeah, sorry.  We don’t have anything like that in the system, I’d have to
cross reference some things.”
 
 “Oh,” he said with a slight note of disappointment.
 
 “Or, you could go over to the library, grab a copy of the yearbook.  It just
came out, won’t have the newest students, but everyone here longer than 3
months would be in there.  Picture and all.”  She smiled at him, and he grinned
back.
 
 “Thanks, uh…”
 
 “Elizabeth.  Liz.”
 
 “Thanks, Liz.  So, could you point me in the direction of the library?” he
asked leaning in slightly.
 
 “Sure thing.  Just head back out that door, take a left down the path and it’s
the third building on your right.  Big fountain in front, you can’t miss it,”
she said with a smile.
 
 He thanked her again and gave her a wink as he left.  He found the library
easily enough and pushed through the front door.  Images of Sam, behind piles
of books either doing schoolwork or helping research a case flashed through his
mind and a sad smile spread across his face.
 
 The library was filled with kids immersed in stacks of papers, an occasional
book in the piles.  Dean walked down the stairs to the main floor hoping to
find a librarian that was at least a little hot.  Hey, he loved Sam, but he
could still appreciate some nice curves.  What he found was a very harried
woman who looked to be in her late forties.  Graying brown hair pulled into a
bun that was coming undone as quickly as she was, glasses perched on her nose,
pencil tucked behind her ear and a stain on her skirt.
 
 Dean approached her carefully, gently tapping her on the shoulder.  She jumped
and glared at him.  He held his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, Miss…”
 
 She narrowed her eyes, “Ms. Aronson.  I’m very busy, is there something you
need?”  She gathered up a stack of books and started walking toward the front
desk.
 
 “I can see that, Ms. Aronson,” Dean said smoothly, “and I’m real sorry to
bother you.  Here let me get that for you,” he reached to open the latch on the
gate that closed off the desk area.
 
 She dropped the books on the desk and Dean put his charming smile back on. 
Ms. Aronson sighed, “What can I do for you?”
 
 “I’m just looking for the yearbooks, the most current one specifically.”
 
 She raised an eyebrow at him, “What for?”
 
 He pulled his badge out to show her, “I’m looking for a missing young man.”
 
 “Okay,” she said, “they’re over this way.” 
 
 Dean followed her back out and they passed back by several of those stressed-
out looking students hidden in an avalanche of papers.  “What’s going on with
all of them?  Exams or something?”
 
 She huffed, “No, midterms are a few weeks off still.  They’re applying to
colleges.  The schools are competitive and the students are under a lot of
pressure.  Most of them are also looking for scholarships.  Here you go.”  They
had stopped in a corner and she pointed him to the shelf of yearbooks.
 
 “Thanks,” he said, but she had already turned to leave him.  He watched as she
walked back towards one of the students.  His head tilted to one side as a
memory floated to the front of his brain.
 
 Dean was on Baby’s hood, leaning back against the windshield.  Sam rested
against his chest, sitting in the V of Dean’s legs.  Both were shirtless; the
flavor of Sam’s come still sat in Dean’s mouth and the sparks from his own
orgasm still danced in his nerves.  The sky over the pond was clear enough to
see the sparkle of every single star and both boys stared up as they talked. 
Dean’s hand rubbed absently over Sam’s heart, and Sam’s fingers reached back to
tease at the short hair on the back of Dean’s neck.
 
 Sam leaned up to meet Dean’s lips for another kiss.  “ ‘s beautiful out here,
De.”
 
 “Mm,” Dean agreed.
 
 “All those stars.  Just you and me.”
 
 “And Baby.”
 
 Sam laughed, “And Baby.  Makes me think.”
 
 “’Bout what?”
 
 “About the future.  About what you and me could do.”
 
 Dean leaned down and placed a kiss to Sam’s temple, “You can do anything you
put that giant brain to, Sammy.”
 
 “You can too, Dean.  I think I might wanna go to school,” Sam looked down.
 
 “You go to school every day,” Dean kidded.
 
 Sam smacked Dean’s knee gently, “I mean college, jerk.”
 
 “I know, bitch,” Dean’s smile turned serious.  He didn’t like the idea of
anything that took Sammy away from him, but he’d never hold Sam back from doing
something he wanted.  “If that’s what you want, Sammy, you should do it.  God
knows you’re smart enough.”  Sam blushed and tried to hide his face in Dean’s
chest.  “What do you think you’ll do?” Dean asked.
 
 “I thought maybe law school…could be a lawyer.  Might come in handy.”
 
 Dean smiled, “Way you argue, bet you’d be a great lawyer.  Got a school in
mind yet?”
 
 Sam ducked his head again, “Stanford,” he said softly, “Maybe.  Could try for
a scholarship.” 
 
 “Bet you get two, brainiac,” Dean’s thumb traced Sam’s jaw and they leaned
back together for another kiss.
 
 “Come with me, De?” 
 
 Instead of an answer, Dean had turned Sam fully around to face him and kissed
him until the question was forgotten by both as Dean rolled his brother under
him and rocked their hips together.
 
 Dean smiled, cheeks flushing as he let the rest of the memory play through his
head for a moment.  He did a quick check of the yearbook before he went, but as
he’d thought, this was just another school he could cross of the list.  His
steps still felt lighter as he left the library and headed for the Impala. 
 
 Stanford.  He had a good lead, a really good lead, and Sammy felt closer than
he had since he’d first been taken away from Dean.

*        *        *        *        *
 Sam sighed as he closed the door to his empty mailbox.  He knew it was
probably still too early, but he’d really been hoping to hear from Stanford
anyway.  At least about admission, scholarship applications would take longer
of course.  He threw his backpack back over his shoulder and headed back toward
the dorm.
 
 Jason was waiting for him in their room; they planned to go to the dining hall
for dinner together.  A smile took over Sam’s face at the thought of his
roommate.  There had been more attempts at studying that ended with more
touching and less exchanging of knowledge.  Sam still struggled with the
feeling that he was betraying Dean, but as his feelings for Jason grew it got
less and less difficult to ignore that gnawing in the pit of his stomach when
he thought about Dean.  And sometimes Sam would surprise himself by going
nearly an entire day without even thinking about his brother.
 
 He opened the door to find Jason damp and wearing only a towel around his
waist.  He swallowed; this might be one of those times when they never actually
got around to doing what it was they had originally planned. 
 
 “Dude, you’re staring,” Jason said with a slight flush to his cheeks.
 
 “Sorry,” Sam stammered out, dropping his bag on his bed. 
 
 Jason crossed the room and pulled Sam into a kiss.  “No need to be.”  What
would have been another kiss was interrupted by a rather loud grumble from
Sam’s stomach.  Jason laughed, “Alright, just let me get some clothes on and
we’ll go eat.”
 
 “Sounds good,” Sam said with a laugh.
 
 “Uh, can you just,” Jason made a twirling motion with his hand, “maybe turn
around for a sec?”
 
 Sam blushed, “Oh, yeah.  Right.  Sure.”  Sometimes sharing a room with the
person he was dating got a little awkward, but Sam was still a gentleman and he
didn’t peek.  Well, not more than once anyway.
 
 “Ok,” Jason said and Sam turned to find the towel replaced with jeans, but
Jason still bare from the waist up.  He walked up behind him and wrapped his
arms around his bare torso, bending to drop a kiss to the back of his neck.
 
 “Alright, if you start with that, we’ll never get to the food, Sammy.”
 
 Sam tensed.  He only liked that name coming out of one person’s mouth.  And
that person wasn’t who he wanted to think about when his lips were on another
man’s neck.  He let go of Jason and stepped back.  “Yeah, we, uh, we should get
going.  You know, before we miss the um, food.”  Although, suddenly Sam wasn’t
the least bit hungry.
 
 Jason’s brow creased with concern, “You okay, Sam?”
 
 Sam nodded, “Yeah.  Fine.”  Jason raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.  “I’m
good, really.  Just…just, don’t call me Sammy again, ok?”
 
 “Yeah, sure.  No problem.  Sorry, Sam.”
 
 Sam smiled thinly, “It’s ok, Jay.  Really.  Let’s go eat, huh?”
 
 Jason pulled his shirt on over his head and grabbed his jacket, “Yeah man,
let’s go.”
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dean grinned as he pulled away from the Stanford campus.  He had an address,
Sam’s address!  It was a couple days drive if he really pushed it, but at long
last he knew Sam was gonna be there at the end of it.
 
 It had taken him a bit of time to shuffle through the giant pile of
applications, and it wasn’t Sam Winchester’s name he found.  Of course his
father had given Sammy a false identity, but Dean knew his father well enough
to figure out which names could fit his usual pattern for choosing pseudonyms. 
That knowledge coupled with how well he knew his little brother and what sort
of essay he’d write had really narrowed down the pile. 
 
 Thank goodness, all applicants had to put a photo on file, and once Dean had
narrowed it down to less than 40 guys, he’d flipped through all their photos. 
When Sammy’s bright dimpled grin appeared before him his heart had lifted.  He
started scribbling down the address with shaking hands, thought better of it
and had the secretary make him a copy of the application instead. 
 *        *        *        *        *
 It took Dean three days to get to the town where Sam’s school was located. 
He’d run out of money halfway through day two and had to stop to do a quick
hustle.  Now that he had arrived his excitement was overwhelmed by his fear. 
He hadn’t even been able to talk to Sam in over a year and though he never
doubted Sam’s love, he wasn’t sure how angry or hurt his brother would be. 
 
 He pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel closest to Sam’s
school.  He threw his duffel on the bed and went to the bathroom.  When he
caught sight of himself in the mirror he decided it would be best to clean up
before going to see Sammy.  His brother might be more willing to accept his
apology if he was begging forgiveness with a fresh shave and clothes that
didn’t reek of three days worth of road grime.
 
 An hour later Dean was dressed in his cleanest jeans and t-shirt under his
ever-present leather jacket and he stood outside Sam’s door.  He took a deep
breath and knocked.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Sam and Jason were sitting at their desks, they had decided the best way to
actually get their studying done was to work separately.  At the sound of
someone knocking on their door both their heads popped up.  Sam’s desk was
closer to the door so he got up to answer it.  Nothing could have prepared him
for what was on the other side.
 
 “Dean?”  Sam couldn’t believe his eyes.  There in front of him was the sight
he’d wanted to see every day since he’d been dumped here by John.  Leather
jacket, freckles, bowed legs, lush lips.  His brother smiled at him, a storm of
emotions swirling in his green eyes, the foremost that all-encompassing love
that Sam had begun to doubt.
 
 “Heya, Sammy,” Dean said, unable to keep the waver out of his voice.
 
 Sam didn’t even have to think; his heart and body acted for him.  He lunged
forward and pulled his brother into a hug and laughed out a broken sob when he
felt Dean’s arms close around him and squeeze.
 
 “You came,” Sam whispered, “I knew it.  Knew you’d keep your promise.”
 
 “I missed you, baby boy,” Dean said, then pulled back enough to look into
Sam’s watery hazel eyes.  He cupped his hand around Sam’s jaw, “I’m sorry I
couldn’t get here sooner, Sammy.  So sorry.”
 
 “Don’t care,” Sam said.  No longer able to resist the pull of those lips, Sam
wrapped a hand around Dean’s neck and drew him into a kiss.
 
 Dean let out a sound he would later swear was a moan, but Sam knew was a
whimper.  He tightened his arms around Sam and kissed him back with everything
in him. 
 
 Across the room the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and then a just
slightly louder than necessary throat clearing registered with the brothers. 
Sam broke from the kiss and pulled back at the reminder that Jason was
witnessing this entire exchange.
 
 “Oh, God,” Sam uttered.  He put the smallest amount of space between himself
and his brother.  “Dean this is Jason, Jason this is –“
 
 “So, this is Dean?” Jason interrupted.
 
 Dean frowned and looked at Sam.  Sam flashed a quick look at Dean, hoping he’d
understand and follow Sam’s lead.  “Yeah, this is Dean.”
 
 “The ex, right?” Jason asked, intonation clearly questioning the status of
Sam’s feelings more than the identity of the man at their door.
 
 Dean’s eyebrow shot up and he watched Sam’s face waiting to see what his
answer would be as he tried to decipher what it meant that Sam had referred to
him as an ex-boyfriend instead of brother…or current boyfriend whose return he
was expecting.
 
 Sam froze.  He was completely lost and just stood there unable to make his
brain form words.  He was looking from one man to the other; his brother who he
had always adored, loved with his entire being, and the guy who had been there
for Sam through some of the worst months in his whole life.  Neither one of
them deserved to be hurt, and Sam…well Sam just had no idea where to even begin
trying to untie this tangled mess.
 
 “Sammy?” Dean asked.  This time Jason’s eyebrows shot up, as he figured out
that Dean was somehow at the base of why Sam couldn’t bear that nickname.
 
 Sam turned tear-filled eyes to his brother, “De, I…I’m sorry,” Sam’s voice
trembled.
 
 Dean shook his head.  No, this wasn’t happening.  He finally had Sam in front
of him and Sam was choosing someone else?  “What do you mean, sorry?  Sammy,
what’s going on?  Who is this?”
 
 Sam looked at the floor and shook his own head as a rueful laugh escaped him. 
Jason stepped toward him and Sam looked up to see the hurt fresh in those soft,
warm brown eyes.  The last thing Sam wanted was to hurt either of these men,
but he was about to break both their hearts, no matter what he said.
 
 “Jason is my roommate.  My friend.  He’s been here for me…w-we…we, um,” God
this was just too hard.  Sam couldn’t even make his mouth shape the words to
explain.  And Dean already looked so broken.  A tear escaped Jason’s eye and
rolled down his cheek.  Sam hauled a deep breath into his constricted lungs. 
Better to rip the band aid off.  “Dean, Jason and I have been-“ Jason stepped
forward and slipped his hand into Sam’s.  Sam was both grateful for the action
and irritated that he might be just trying to assert a claim on Sam.
 
 Dean felt it, the exact moment when his heart was crushed.  He couldn’t even
speak.  There had never been anyone else in his mind or heart that could ever
come close to competing with Sammy.  And Dean had always been so sure that Sam
felt the same way.  But now, here Sam was, in front of Dean, holding someone
else’s hand.
 
 “Oh,” Dean croaked, “I-I see.  I, I’m just gonna go then,” Dean turned to
leave before he made an even bigger ass of himself. 
 
 Sam’s hand dropped Jason’s to wrap around Dean’s wrist. “Dean, wait.  Let me
exp-“
 
 Dean shook his wrist free of Sam’s hold, “No, Sammy.  I understand.  I gotta
go.”
 
 “Dean,” Sam tried again.  His brother’s shoulders tensed for just a second
before he walked out the door. 
 
 Jason caught Sam as he collapsed into sobs.
 *        *        *        *        *
 Dean was still reeling when he made it back to the motel.  Of all the possible
scenes he’d played through in his head of how it would go when he found Sam,
his brother having a boyfriend had never occurred to him.  Dean swiped the back
of his hand across his eyes and then swiped his palm down his face.
 
 When he opened the door to his room, his mind was still working so hard on the
puzzle of what had happened with Sam that he had no way to process his second
shock of the day.  He blinked twice trying to comprehend the figure sitting in
the chair in his room.
 
 John Winchester pushed up from his seat and walked toward his son.

 

 
   Chapter_6
***** Broken Road Home Chapter 6 *****
     [wbb-banner2700]





(See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)




 Chapter 6
  Sam shook in Jason’s arms, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.  He’d
never felt pain that could even come close to comparing with what he’d
experienced as he watched Dean walk out his door.  He should have stopped him. 
He should have gone after him.  Anything besides falling into a useless pile of
flesh in the arms of the wrong man.
 
 Jason held Sam, rubbing circles into his back and shushing into his ear.  When
the sobbing had subsided into sniffling, Jason whispered, “You should, um, you
need to follow him, Sam.”
 
 Sam sucked in a breath and pulled back far enough to look into Jason’s eyes,
“What?”
 
 Jason sighed, “I mean I really don’t wanna lose you here, Sam, but…well, even
I can see where you belong.  I know how you feel about Dean; it’s how I felt
about Aaron.  And if he had actually felt the same for me…if he had cared
enough to hunt me down and come across the country to get me . . . Just, you
should go.  You need to go.  Don’t let him get away.”
 
 Sam closed his eyes and opened them slowly to look once more into Jason’s warm
chocolate gaze; he leaned forward and placed a gentle, sweet kiss to Jason’s
lips. “Thank you,” Sam breathed.  He stood on shaking legs and walked to the
door, he turned with his hand on the knob to look back at Jason one last time.
 
 “Go,” Jason said, a sad smile on his face.
 
 Sam opened the door and went out to find Dean.
 *        *        *        *        *
 “So,” John snarled as he stalked across the room, “You just couldn’t stay
away, could you?”
 
 Dean remained silent, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides.
 
 “You sick, twisted little deviant.  Can’t keep your filthy hands off your own
brother.”
 
 “Dad…” Dean warned, danger evident in his tone.
 
 “No, I don’t want to hear it, Dean.  I gave you orders, direct, clear orders. 
You were to stay away from Sam, let him heal and have the chance to meet a
girl.  Have a real relationship.”
 
 “We have a real relationship,” Dean charged back.
 
 “No, you have brainwashed him into believing that being molested by his older
brother is okay.  That somehow that disgusting perversion is love,” John’s
voice, laced with revulsion and contempt, rose in volume with every accusation
he leveled at Dean.
 
 Dean’s nostrils flared, “I do love him.  He loves me.”
 
 “And no one has brainwashed me.”  Sam’s voice stunned both John and Dean. 
John frowned at his youngest even as Dean’s face lit up.
 
 “Sammy?” Dean asked.  Sam looked into Dean’s eyes, and Dean saw all the answer
he needed in the complete and true love reflected in those hazel depths.
 
 “Samuel Winchester, you were to remain on campus.  I gave you orders to stay
at that school, and I warned you what would happen if-“
 
 “I don’t care anymore, John.  I am done taking your orders; I’m not going back
there,” Sam’s words were firm, even if his voice was not.
 
 “Fine,” John gritted out, “then it’s this corrupt freak that’s going to pay
for your disobedience.”  John took a step toward Dean, but Sam pushed his
brother back and stepped between them.
 
 “No,” Sam said simply, though Dean had not missed the twitch in Sam’s brow
when John called him a freak.  Dean didn’t even care anymore what insults his
father hurled, he was long past feeling them.  What he did care about was that
John had picked the one word that Sam was most sensitive to; the thing Sam
hated being called more than anything.  And he’d most likely done it on
purpose.
 
 “Sam,” John’s voice dripped with put-upon patience, “you don’t understand. 
Your brother has hurt you; he’s warped your mind.  Made you believe that this
dirty illness is acceptable.  That it isn’t going to hurt you to sink into this
depravity.  But, son, this thing with your brother just isn’t right.  It’s
wrong, Sam.  Absolutely wrong.”
 
 Dean could see it in Sam’s eyes; the way everything John was saying was slowly
sinking in past Sam’s armor, each insult to himself a small wound to Sam’s
heart and every insult John flung at Dean fueled a rage inside the youngest
Winchester.  Sam was reaching the point where it would all add up and be too
much.  Sam would break down, and Dean wouldn’t allow it this time.
 
 Dean took Sam’s hand in his and turned away from his father, facing Sam, “Come
on, Sammy, let’s go.  This just isn’t worth it, he won’t ever see it.  You and
I, this,” Dean motioned between them, “this is more important than…than
anything.”  Dean looked deep into Sam’s eyes, “Let’s just go.  You and me.”
 
 There were tears in Sam’s slanted eyes; his brother was willing to ignore
orders, to walk away from John for him.  For Sam.  Sam looked back into Dean’s
bright green eyes and nodded, “Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right, De.  Let’s get out of
here.  You and me.”
 
 Dean smiled at his brother and pulled him out the door.
 
 John sneered after them, continuing to spew insults at their backs; he called
Dean sick, called Sam weak for being brainwashed.  The boys just kept walking
and quietly closed the door.
 
 The door clicked shut behind his sons and John kicked one of the flimsy
kitchenette chairs sending it crashing against the far wall.  Dean had never
disobeyed direct orders.  He’d come to his senses; he’d be back.  John perched
on the end of one of the beds.
 *        *        *        *        *
 The passenger seat of the Impala had never felt as much like coming home as it
did for Sam as he finally sat next to Dean again.  He had longed for this
moment, for just being able to look at Dean again, for a year now he had craved
it.
 
 “You’re staring,” Dean said.
 
 “Yep,” Sam answered, continuing to look his brother up and down.
 
 Dean blushed, cheeks turning a fiery pink that trailed down his neck and
disappeared under the collar of his shirt.  Sam wanted to see just how far that
flush had travelled.  “Cut it out, Sammy.  I’m tryin’a drive here.”
 
 Sam laughed, deep and free like he hadn’t in ages.  Dean relished the sound
and smiled back until Sam’s face turned serious, “Dean…I…I’m sorry.”
 
 Dean pulled the Impala to a stop beside the road.  “No, Sammy.  I’m sorry.  If
I had kept my promise, we would have been back together a year ago.  You never
would have had to sit in that place for so long.  I let you down.”
 
 “It really wasn’t all that bad, Dean.”
 
 “Uh-huh.”  Even in 2 syllables that were barely a word, Sam could hear Dean’s
jealousy.
 
 Sam sighed.  “Dean, about Jason…I’m sorry.  I don’t really know how to
explain.  I just, I was so alone there, and I missed you.  I never gave up; I
always knew you’d get back to me.  But…it was weeks and then months…and then a
year.  I wanted to-I,” Sam’s voice wavered and he took a deep breath before he
struggled on, “I didn’t say a word, not a single word for over a month at one
point.  I…I wasn’t okay without you. I wasn’t okay at all.”
 
 Dean reached across and stroked his thumb over his brother’s cheek wiping away
the tear that Sam hadn’t even felt escape.  He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt that
Sam had turned to someone else, but Dean was beginning to understand just how
torturously lonely his little brother had been.  In the end Sam had chosen
Dean, and though Dean couldn’t deny the sting of the temporary betrayal, he
could forgive Sam.  He would always forgive Sam.  “It’s okay, Sammy,” he
whispered.
 
 Sam looked at Dean through his bangs and smiled weakly.  “Anyway, that wasn’t
really what I meant.  About it not being that bad.  I got to be in the same
school for a whole year, Dean.  Make friends, get to know my teachers.” Sam
ducked his head, “I applied for college.  Stanford.”
 
 “I know.”  Sam looked up at Dean, eyebrows scrunched together in a question. 
“That’s how I found you, Sammy.  I remembered that night by the pond, when you
talked about wanting to go to college.  So I went there, looked through the
applications until I found yours.”
 
 “Wow.”
 
 “What?”
 
 “You remembered that?” 
 
 Dean nodded, “Course I did, Sammy.  It was important to you.  Your dream.” 
Sam leaned across the bench seat to kiss Dean’s cheek.  Dean absolutely did not
blush.  Again.
 
 “And then you combed through all those applications looking for me?  That must
have taken days.”  Sam had even more appreciation for his brother’s search now,
and exactly how difficult John had made it for Dean to find him.
 
 “Well, I narrowed it down, only took me a day.  No big deal really.  I was
just trying to get you back, baby boy.  Keep my promise.  Missed you so bad it
hurt, Sammy.”
 
 “I missed you too, De.  I couldn’t even function at first.  Thought–” Sam
swallowed, “I thought the worst until I talked to Bobby.”
 
 “I’m so sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered, voice wavering with unshed tears.
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 Sam slid his body across the seat and pulled Dean’s face into his hands,
“Don’t you do that Dean; don’t you blame yourself for this.  Dad did this, he
kept us apart not you.”  Sam’s hazel eyes searched deep into Dean’s watery
emerald gaze until he was sure Dean heard him, really heard him.  “De, once I
knew you were alright, I knew it was just a matter of time until you found me. 
I knew you’d come for me.  I never doubted you.”  Sam leaned forward and
pressed his lips to Dean’s in a kiss.
 
 With that press of lips both boys’ bodies lit up with long-suppressed need. 
Their tongues tangled and Dean’s hands found their way into Sam’s hair.  Home. 
They groaned with how right that felt and how much they both had missed that
simple thing that had become such a part of their being together.
 
 Dean fisted his hands slightly, gently tugging the chestnut locks and
eliciting a deep moan from Sam as Dean angled Sam’s head.  With their mouths
slotted together perfectly, Dean’s tongue teased Sam’s lips until Sam opened
his mouth hungrily.  Sam sucked Dean’s tongue into his mouth, wrapping his own
around it; slick hot muscles enfolding each other, massaging and tasting,
demanding and accepting. 
 
 Dean pulled Sam close, trying to angle their bodies together, but the steering
wheel was in the way and the seat was too narrow.  And…  “Damn it,” Dean
growled.
 
 “De,” Sam whimpered, “Need you.  Please, De.”
 
 “Me too, Sammy.  But not like this.  I haven’t had my hands on you in a year. 
Want you on a bed, spread out.”
 
 “Fine,” Sam groaned.  He pulled Dean into another breathless kiss.  “Motel. 
Now.”
 
 “Yes, sir,” Dean said with a wink.  It made Sam’s cock twitch and Dean didn’t
miss the dark look that crossed his brother’s eyes.  He filed that little
nugget away for future use.
 
 Although it probably only took about 15 minutes to find a motel, that time
stretched out longer before them than the entire year apart.  They kept to
their own sides of the seat; both of them with hands twitching to touch, but
knowing that once they started they’d never be able to hold out.  Sam was out
of the car and halfway to the motel office before Dean could even engage the
parking brake.  Still, Dean wasn’t far behind him.  They asked for a king and
hurried out toward the room.
 
 Sam got ahead of Dean, but Dean grabbed his brother around the waist and
pushed him against the motel wall, devouring Sam’s pink lips in another kiss
that had Sam hard in seconds.  When Sam moaned and thrust his hips towards
Dean’s looking for friction, Dean snagged the key from his hand and broke away
toward the room grinning.   Sam shook his head and took off after his brother.
 
 The key was nearly in the door, when hot breath hit Dean’s ear, followed by a
large hand low on his belly, teasing under the waist of his jeans.  Dean’s
fingers fumbled.  “Hurry up, De, thought you wanted me naked on a bed…spread
out and waiting for you to fuck me.” Sam’s tongue followed his words into
Dean’s ear and the key hit the ground with a clatter.
 
 Sam chuckled and nipped at Dean’s earlobe as he pulled away to bend and
retrieve the key.  From his place kneeling on the ground he looked up at Dean
coyly through his bangs, then let his eyes travel down to the obvious bulge in
Dean’s jeans and then back up to his face, licking his kiss-swollen lips.
 
 “Fuck, Sammy.  Gonna kill me, gotta get you in this room.  Now.”  Dean grabbed
Sam’s collar in his hands and hauled him up against his body.  He pinned his
brother to the door for another powerful kiss, rocking their hips together
until Sam’s body went weak beneath him.  He pulled the key from Sam’s hand and
opened the door, pushing his brother in ahead of him. 
 
 Dean hooked his foot around the door and kicked it shut.  His intense gaze
traveled over Sam’s body as Dean slowly pulled off his jacket, then his shirt. 
Sam swallowed and followed suit, removing his jacket and shirts.  Dean’s upper
lip curled in that fucking beautiful cocky smirk as he bent to remove his boots
and socks.  Sam raised an eyebrow and toed off his shoes and socks.
 
 Suddenly the game was gone out of it for Dean.  Sam stood before him in only
loose jeans slung low on his hips.  Little brother had grown over the year
they’d been apart, he was taller than Dean, even if Dean would never admit it
out loud, and his muscles had started to fill out.  Dean was looking at broad
shoulders, strong biceps, corded forearms and perfectly cut abs above chiseled
hipbones.
 
 “You’re staring,” Sam whispered as pink spread across his cheeks.
 
 “Mm-hm.”  Dean took a step closer to his brother, eyes still traveling over
miles of honey-tanned skin.  Sam shuddered; having Dean look at him like this
was at once incredibly erotic and intensely unnerving.  As Dean came up to his
side, Sam’s self-consciousness got the better of him and he moved to cross his
arms over his chest.
 
 “Uh-uh, little brother,” Dean murmured as he stepped behind Sam and gently
captured Sam’s wrists and brought them back down to his sides.  Dean’s breath
fell on the back of Sam’s neck, searing across his skin even as it brought
chills down his spine.  He felt more than heard Dean’s raspy voice in his ear.
“Fucking gorgeous, Sammy.  Haven’t been able to look at you in much too long
and now I’m going to soak in every inch of this body.”
 
 A tiny sound escaped Sam, it may have been a moan; it may have been a whimper,
maybe both.
 
 “Shhh, baby boy.  I know.  Know you want me to touch you, taste you.  Fuck
you.”  This time the sound was most decidedly a whimper.  “Mmmmm, don’t you
worry, sweetheart.  I will touch,” Dean’s hand hovered millimeters above Sam’s
ribs, “and taste,” plush lips and tongue moved so close to Sam’s neck he could
feel the moist heat.
 
 Dean’s lips returned to his ear, he still wasn’t touching, but Sam could feel
the heat from his body along every inch of his naked skin.  “And then, Sammy,
then I’m gonna fuck you so deep your body won’t ever forget me.  Fuck you so
good all you’ll remember is my name.”
 
 Sam was pretty sure he stopped breathing at that point.
 
 “You want that, Sammy?”
 
 A strangled moan escaped him, “Yes, Dean.  God yes.  Please.”
 
 “Strip,” Dean commanded.  Sam’s fingers shook as he worked open the button and
fly of his jeans, they fell to his ankles.  This time it was Dean who
whimpered. “Fuck, Sammy.”  Dean hadn’t been prepared for Sam to be going
commando and his own aching hard dick twitched at that.  He fought for control,
pressing the heel of his hand against the base and thinking every unsexy
thought he could muster up.  When he regained his composure, he returned to
appraising his brother’s body.  He looked up Sam’s ridiculously long legs, eyes
coming to rest on the tight high globes of his ass.
 
 Sam drew in shaky breaths as he felt the weight of his brother’s stare; Dean
slowly came around his right side and stood inches in front of Sam.  He caught
Sam’s eyes and then scanned back down pecs and abs until Sam knew he was
staring right at his cock.  Dean’s gaze registered as touch in Sam’s heightened
state and a pearl of precum pulsed from his slit. 
 
 That fucking smug grin spread across Dean’s full lips, “Gettin’ wet for me
already, little brother?”
 
 “Deeannn,” he pleaded.  Dean knew Sam had taken as much of this tease as he
could handle, he reached his hand toward his brother’s blood heavy cock and
Sam’s breath sped up.  He skimmed his hand through the air just over Sam’s
cock, then up his belly and neck, and finally allowed his fingertips to brush
Sam’s lips.  Sam moaned and Dean soaked in the sound. 
 
 Feather-light caresses of Dean’s fingers down Sam’s neck had Sam’s nerves
straining out to feel his brother’s touch.  Dean skimmed the skin of Sam’s
pecs, barely making contact and watched how Sam’s body bowed toward him.  He
traced a gentle circle around his nipples, and then with no warning pinched the
nubs.  Sam cried out, arching beautifully into Dean’s hands.
 
 Dean ran his hands along Sam’s flank as he circled back around behind him.  He
let his hands run over Sam’s hips, coming to rest on his ass.  He caressed the
round cheeks tenderly and then massaged the firm flesh.  Dean teased his thumbs
into the crack, letting the pad of one graze Sam’s hole.  Sam’s breath caught
and Dean pressed a little harder eliciting a deep moan from Sam.  When Dean
leaned forward to blow a hot breath across his hole, Sam whined out, “Please,
Dean.  Pleease.”
 “Please, what?”
 
 “More, touch me.  Need your hands,” Sam panted.
 
 “Where, Sammy?”
 
 “Everywhere.” It came out in a breath, barely a whisper, but Dean heard it as
a command.
 
 His hands roamed back up Sam’s ass and over the muscled terrain of his back,
up his neck and into the shaggy chestnut mane.  Dean fisted his hands and used
the leverage to turn Sam around to face him.  His palms caressed high
cheekbones, thumbs skimmed pink lips parted and panting.  He stroked the back
of his fingers over Sam’s jaw and quickly down his long neck, to trace the
curve of his collarbone.  On the way down his chest, he gave another tweak to
Sam’s nipples, letting his fingers skip over the contours of his abs, coming to
rest on his narrow hips, thumbs digging into the grooves.
 
 Another whine escaped from deep in Sam’s throat as Dean teased around the base
of his blood heavy cock.  He reached behind to caress Sam’s balls, letting
their weight fill his hand as he massaged.  And when his other hand surrounded
Sam’s aching length he shuddered and gasped out Dean’s name.
 
 Sam threw his head back and that column of smooth, tan skin stretched before
him was too inviting for Dean to resist.  He leaned forward, first licking a
stripe up the groove next to Sam’s Adam’s apple, and then opening his mouth to
pull in a sweet mouthful of the tempting flesh.  He worked the spot between his
teeth and the suction of his mouth until Sam cried out again and Dean knew he’d
just marked his brother where everyone would see.
 
 “More,” Sam begged again and Dean’s mouth readily obeyed.  He licked along
Sam’s collarbone, and sucked another mark into the skin over his brother’s
heart.  Open mouthed kisses fell over Sam’s abs and a tongue teased into his
navel.  Dean knelt before Sam and paused to make sure he was watching.
 
 Sam looked down to see his gorgeous brother on his knees, hand wrapped around
Sam’s cock and those sinful lips open and waiting.  Dean kept his eyes locked
on Sam’s as his tongue came out to lick the precome that had been gathering on
the head.  His tongue teased down under the head into that sensitive bundle of
nerves and Sam’s knees nearly gave out.  Dean’s mouth engulfed him and it felt
so good.  Oh god, too good.  
 
 Sam tried to push Dean back, “De, wait.  Stop, Dean, I’m gonna-”
 
 Dean pulled back, lips slick and swollen, “It’s ok, Sammy.  We got all night;
I’ll get you there again.  Do it, wanna taste you.”  Dean swallowed Sam’s
length again, head hitting the back of his throat and Sam swore.  Dean moaned
around his cock, sending Sam even closer to the edge.  When Sam felt Dean’s
finger press against his hole it was more than he could take, he screamed his
brother’s name as he came into his mouth. 
 
 Dean swallowed the first burst hungrily, and then pulled back letting the last
pulse land across his lips.  It was enough to make Sam wish he could come
again; Dean’s reddened lips swollen and painted with his come.
 
 Sam hauled Dean up to his feet and went for his mouth.  He licked, then sucked
and nibbled at the tender plush bow of Dean’s bottom lip, moaning at the taste
of himself mixing with Dean’s flavor.  Sam kissed his brother deep and hard,
fucking his tongue into Dean’s mouth, big hands clasped tight around his head. 
When he pulled back they were both breathless.
 
 “My turn,” he growled, voice full of dark promise.
 
 Sam kept one hand wrapped around Dean’s head and the other rested on his ribs
as he kissed along Dean’s jaw, enjoying the sting of his stubble against his
lips.  He reached the soft skin below Dean’s ear and sucked it into his mouth,
laved it with his tongue and felt Dean’s pulse race.  Sam pulled back to look
at his brother, his fair skin flushed pink under those freckles that just
begged for Sam to taste every one.  He traced long fingers over Dean’s abs,
teasing into the golden hair just above his jeans and Dean’s breath caught as
the muscles twitched under Sam’s hands. 
 
 Sam walked around behind Dean and couldn’t stop the appreciative noise that he
made looking at Dean’s muscled back.  He drew his hands up Dean’s arms across
his broad shoulders and then down over the contours of his shoulder blades and
the muscles on either side of the dip of his spine.  Sam stepped closer and
dropped open mouthed kisses to Dean’s freckles as he reached around to the
button of his jeans.  He brushed the bulge in Dean’s pants teasingly on his way
up and Dean whimpered.
 
 “Shh, I gotcha De,” Sam whispered against Dean’s ear as he worked open the
button and pulled down the zipper easing the pressure on Dean’s rigid cock.  He
teased Dean through the already damp fabric of his boxer briefs before sliding
his hands into the fabric and pushing jeans and underwear down as he let his
hands slide down Dean’s hips and bowed legs.  He bent at Dean’s feet and gently
urged each one up as he pulled the clothes away, leaving his brother naked in
front of him.
 
 “God, Dean.  So beautiful.”  The flush in Dean’s cheeks and chest deepened,
which only made him look even better.  Sam wrapped his hands around Dean’s
ankles, thumbs tracing the bones and teasing at his instep, then started
running his hands up Dean’s calves and powerful thighs, stopping at his hips.
 
 He opened his mouth and leaned forward, but when Dean moaned, Sam pulled back
with a chuckle, “Uh-uh, big brother.  Got other plans for this cock right now. 
We’ll have to save you coming down my throat for later.” Sam punctuated his
sentence with a brief squeeze to Dean’s aching member.  “Fucking tease,” Dean
rumbled.  Sam only laughed as he stood and circled back around behind his
brother. 
 
 “Mmmmm,” he mumbled appreciatively as he took in the sight of Dean’s back
side.  His brother had to have the most perfect ass in the world.  Although the
fucker was fully aware of Sam’s admiration of that particular part of his
anatomy.  Sam placed a solid smack to each cheek before taking a firm sphere in
each big hand and squeezing.  Sam bent letting his tongue tease the dip at the
base of Dean’s spine and then licking up the entire length.  When he reached
Dean’s neck he bit into the joint of shoulder and neck eliciting another moan
from deep in his brother’s throat.
 
 Dean felt the sudden absence of his brother’s presence against his back and
turned to find Sam lying back on the bed.  He just stared.
 
 “This is what you wanted, right, De?” Sam asked, bending one long leg up and
letting it fall to one side, exposing his tight pink hole.  A faint blush
appeared on Sam’s cheeks, he wasn’t quite as bold as he was putting on, but he
kept going for Dean, “Naked, spread out on a bed?  I’m ready Dean.  Want you to
fuck me now.”
 
 Dean gulped, “Fucking hell, Sam,” he breathed out before going to his jacket. 
He searched the pockets until he found the small bottle he’d stashed and then
climbed onto the bed between Sam’s legs.  He took Sam’s mouth in a kiss as he
worked the lube over his fingers.  Dean dropped his hand and let a finger trace
around Sam’s pucker.  Sam whined in his throat, and Dean pushed forward to the
first knuckle.
 
 Sam gasped and his muscles involuntarily clenched at the intrusion.  He took a
deep breath and willed himself to relax around Dean’s finger.  Dean looked into
his eyes and Sam nodded his permission.  Dean pressed on until his finger was
buried completely, he paused letting Sam adjust, and then worked it in and out
a few times until Sam’s hips started to move with him.  “Another?” he asked.
 
 “Yes,” Sam panted.  Dean brought his finger out, and on the next thrust two
digits disappeared into Sam’s tight channel and Dean moaned.  God, he’d almost
forgotten how good it felt inside his brother.  Sam kept breathing and managed
to keep his muscles relaxed as Dean’s second finger breached him; the feeling
of Dean’s strong fingers in him and Dean’s moan had his cock stirring again and
he suddenly just wanted more.  Now.
 
 Sam began fucking back onto Dean’s fingers, so Dean crooked them forward into
the spongy bundle of nerves.  “Fuuck,” Sam moaned out, “God, De.  More, more.”
 
 “Patience, baby boy.  Gotta get you opened up nice and pretty so you can take
my cock.”  Sam groaned and bucked back into Dean’s hand as his dick hardened
completely.  Dean’s fucking dirty mouth and the way he was teasing Sam’s
prostate had him a mess already.
 
 Dean worked his fingers in and out of Sam’s hole, he alternated scissoring
them with brushing Sam’s prostate, and Sam was opening around him perfectly. 
He teased a third finger around the rim, and then pressed it in alongside the
others.  He took Sam’s arching off the bed and swearing as approval.
 
 He wanted to make sure his brother was open enough, but watching and listening
to Sam underneath him was pushing him closer to his orgasm way before he was
ready.
 
 “Ready?” Dean asked and Sam answered with a vigorous nod.  Dean withdrew his
fingers, slicked his cock and lined himself up with Sam’s entrance.  He pushed
the head in, then hooked his arms under Sam’s grasping his shoulders for
leverage as he pushed into Sam’s tight channel.  He paused for a moment,
letting Sam breathe and adjust, and then looked into Sam’s eyes. 
 
 “Move, Dean.  Please, fuck, just move.”
 
 Dean’s chuckle turned to a groan as Sam rolled his own hips causing a perfect
slick drag on his cock. 
 
 “Fucking hell, Sammy.  Bossy little bottom.”  He leveraged himself up on one
arm and hooked the other hand behind Sam’s knee pressing it up and back.  “Hope
you’re ready, sweetheart.”
 
 “Hell yes.”
 
 Dean pulled back until only the head was left in Sam, then thrust forward deep
into his brother.  Sam cried out; Dean grinned.  Dean put Sam’s leg over his
shoulder and balanced on both arms above Sam and set a punishing rhythm.  He
fucked into Sam hard and fast, the bed shook and the sounds of flesh on flesh
filled the room followed quickly by the moans and curses from first Sam and
then Dean.  Sam knew he was going to be sore, but he didn’t care, it just felt
so good to have Dean buried inside him again and when Dean managed to adjust
the angle to pound into his prostate he lost his entire vocabulary.  All that
remained were half-syllable noises and Dean, Dean, DEAN.
 
 Being surrounded by the clamping heat of Sam’s hole, watching him come undone
beneath him and listening to the sounds he made as he lost himself completely
were quickly driving Dean towards orgasm. 
 
 He balanced on one hand long enough to bring Sam’s hand down to his own cock. 
He watched as Sam’s long fingers worked his length while Dean continued to ride
him hard, rocking into his sweet spot on every thrust. 
 
 Dean’s hips started to stutter as his orgasm built deep at the base of his
spine, Sam’s hand worked faster.  Sam called Dean’s name and then they were
both coming; Dean’s vision whited out as he collapsed over his brother.  Their
arms wrapped around each other as they lay together trying to catch their
breath.
 
 “Love you, Dean.”
 
 “Love you too, Sammy.”
 
 Sam grabbed a shirt from the floor and swiped it across his belly and handed
it to Dean who did a half-hearted clean up before lying back down and drawing
Sam into his arms.
 
 Sam wrapped his arms tight around his brother, “Dean, what are we gonna do?”
 
 Dean sighed gently, running his hand up Sam’s back.  “We’re gonna make sure
you finish school.  Then we’re getting you to college.”
 
 Sam smiled, but then his brow furrowed.  “What about you?”
 
 “What about me?”
 
 Sam pushed up from Dean’s chest to look at his face.  “You matter too, Dean. 
What do you need?”
 
 “I told you before, Sammy.  As long as you’re safe and with me, I have
everything I need. With you, I’m home.”
 
 If there wasn’t a tear forming in Sam’s eye, he probably would have called
Dean a girl.  Instead he leaned forward and kissed Dean’s lips gently.  “Me
too, Dean.”

 

 
   Epilogue
***** Broken Road Home Epilogue *****
   [wbb-banner2700]
  (See Masterpost for summary, warnings, etc.)
 Epilogue
  Dean stopped at the door as he waited for Sam to get the key.  Sam unlocked
and opened the door and looked back at Dean smiling.  Dean grinned back, “What?
You waitin’ for me to carry you over the threshold or something?”
 
 Sam rolled his eyes, “Jerk.”
 
 “Bitch,” Dean replied automatically as he walked past his brother into the
apartment.  “Not bad, huh Sammy?”
 
 Sam stepped up next to Dean and surveyed the room.  It was a second floor
walk-up, above the garage that had hired Dean, and close enough to the Stanford
campus that Sam could walk to his classes.  It came furnished, though the
landlord had offered to put this stuff in storage if the boys had their own. 
The main room had bare brick walls and an open floor plan.  The kitchen was
just to the left of the front door, small table and chairs between that and the
living area furnished with a worn sofa and coffee table.  Sam’s eyes landed on
the built-in shelves to either side of the couch and he looked at Dean who was
smiling gently.
 
 “Saw those and I thought they would be perfect for you, Sammy.  Ya know, for
all your school books.  You always liked books…never had a place to keep ‘em
before.”  It was true, with all their moving around Sam’s books were often one
of the first things John would insist had to be left behind since there wasn’t
enough room in the car. 
 
 “They’re perfect, Dean,” Sam whispered. 
 
 Dean ducked his head briefly, before grabbing Sam’s hand and tugging him
forward.  To the right of the living room were two doors, Dean opened the first
to quickly show Sam the bathroom, then pulled him to the second.  Sam knew this
must be the bedroom, and Dean grinned at him as he opened the door.
 
 “Whadya think, Sam?”
 
 Sam looked around; it was just a simple bedroom, double windows on one wall, a
large dresser with a mirror over it on another.  Sam’s eyes finally landed on
the bed and widened.  “Dean?”  His brother just kept grinning.  Sam had not
seen the apartment before; he trusted Dean’s judgment when he said it was a
decent place and the location and price had been perfect.  However, the one
thing Dean had warned him about was while it was fully furnished the bedroom
came with a double bed.  Sam had said it would be fine, they’d make it work, at
least they’d have a place and they’d be together, they’d dealt with worse. 
Honestly though, Sam had worried how his now 6 foot 4 frame would fit onto a
double bed…and leave room for his brother who wasn’t a small guy either. 
 
 What was in front of him was a huge king size bed, topped with a giant red
bow.
 
 Sam turned to look at Dean who was obviously waiting for his reaction.  Sam’s
pink lips quirked up on one side.  “Let’s break it in.”
 
 Dean’s grin turned to a look of surprise, then a laugh.  Clearly he’d been
expecting a girly, teary-eyed reaction from his little brother.  Sam wasn’t
about to give him a chance to call him princess.  Again.  So Sam completely
ignored the stinging in his eyes and the flutter in his heart, and tackled Dean
onto their new bed.
 *        *        *        *        *
 After the first couple of months the boys settled into somewhat of a routine,
which made Sam much happier than he’d ever admit.  The bigger surprise was how
much Dean seemed to enjoy having a home more stationary than Baby.  Sam’s
classes were going well, and Dean liked working in the garage, which turned out
to get an impressive amount of classic cars.
 
 They had leased the apartment under the name John had given Sam when he’d sent
him away to that school.  It only made sense for him to keep the name that was
attached to his school records and it also allowed Sam and Dean to live as
boyfriends without anyone having to know that they were also brothers. 
 
 At first they worried John would use the name to track them down, but that
never happened.  The most they ever heard from their father was the occasional
voice mail from the bottom of a bottle of Jack.  The content was usually a rant
about how sick they were, what a monster Dean was, how weak Sam was for
allowing it.  A few days later there would be a very slurred, “I’m sorry,” and
nothing else.  Both brothers learned to ignore it, although neither could deny
it still stung a bit.
 
 Though Sam or Dean had not given the address out, the third week they were
there, Sam came in carrying an envelope addressed simply to “Dean and Sam” no
last names.  The familiar handwriting brought a knot to Sam’s stomach as he
carefully pulled the envelope open and pulled the single sheet of paper out.
 
 “Whatcha got there, Sammy?” Dean asked as he came into the room.
 
 Sam didn’t say a word, just held the paper out to his brother.  Dean frowned
slightly and took the letter from Sam.  It was short, scribbled in Bobby’s
slanted scrawl:
 
 Dean and Sam,
 I may not understand everything you boys are doing, but you’re still my boys. 
I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and your room will still be here anytime you need it.
Uncle Bobby
 
 Dean reread it and then just stood there staring at it.  Bobby didn’t accept
their relationship, but he still loved them.  He wasn’t throwing them away. 
Dean felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder and looked into wet hazel eyes.  His hand
cupped Sam’s jaw and he just nodded, they didn’t need to speak to know they
were both having all the same reactions to those words.
 *        *        *        *        *
 By the third month in the apartment, Sam noticed Dean was having more and more
trouble sitting still.  He was quieter, and though no one else might have been
able to read Dean’s emotions, Sam could tell he was having mood swings.  Sam
had a break coming up and he started combing newspapers online.
 
 The day before his first break, after his last class, he came home and dropped
the stack of papers in his brother’s lap.
 
 “What’s this?” Dean gruffed.
 
 “These kids all went missing,” Sam said pointing to pictures on several of the
sheets, “on the same day different years.”  He paused and pulled another paper
out of the pile, “They were all last seen headed to this house.  Thought maybe
we should go check it out.”
 
 Dean looked up at Sam, “A case?”  Sam nodded.  Dean smiled briefly, before his
face fell and he dropped the stack of papers on the coffee table.  “It’s okay,
Sammy, you don’t have to do this.  I know hunting isn’t the life you want.  You
want a stable, normal life, and you deserve that.  You deserve at least that.”
 
 “What I want is a life with you.  And yes, college.  But who ever said we
can’t have a home and still hunt?  College has breaks, you get vacation time. 
Let’s go save some people.”
 
 Dean didn’t say anything, but Sam could practically hear the argument going on
in his head.  Sam sighed and dropped down on the couch next to his brother.
 “Dean, you need this.  It’s a big part of who you are.  Of the person I love. 
We can make this work, De.  We can make our own rules.”
 
 Dean couldn’t hide the hope on his face or in his voice, “Yeah?”  Sam smiled
and nodded.
 
 Dean’s lips spread into a real smile, the authentic one that meant he was
truly happy.  The one reserved for Sam.  “Alright, let’s do it, Sammy.  We
always made our own rules, anyway.”
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