Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/306430.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Jessica_Moore
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-12-29 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 52088
****** The Hardest Heart ******
by saucyminx
Summary
     When John finds his son in a compromising position, he's disgusted
     and he sends Dean away, hiding his youngest son from his eldest until
     Sam leaves his sight to break off and hunt on his own. Unexpected
     circumstances bring them back together and Dean will do all his power
     to make sure they stay that way.
***** Chapter 1 *****
"Infomercial, infomercial, home makeover show, rap videos, black and white
movie, damn TV sucks ass," Dean shook his head and threw the remote onto the
couch beside him, turning his head to look at his little brother. "Shouldn't
you be doing homework or something? Dad said I was supposed to make sure you
stayed on top of it," Dean smirked. It never failed to amuse him, pestering his
brother. Especially since Sam had officially reached that age where he got
annoyed by the littlest things and sometimes all Dean had to do was open his
mouth and Sam was rolling his eyes.
"I did my homework over two hours ago and I told you that I'd done it." Sam
kicked out at his brother with one socked foot from where he was lying on the
floor. "Jackass," he mumbled under his breath. Sam was convinced that the worst
part about being fourteen was having a brother who figured the sun shone out of
his own ass.
Dean blew out a low breath, "I'm so tellin' Dad what a foul mouth you have."
His face split into a wide grin a moment before he jumped off the couch and
fell heavily into his brother, fingers working in quick strokes against his
side to hit his most ticklish spots. "Should wash it out with soap!" He laughed
loudly, pinning Sam down hard into the floor as he continued his pursuit.
Trying hard not to laugh Sam ended up making a really embarrassing squeaking
sound. Flushing from chest to cheeks Sam groaned and threw his arms around Dean
trying to flip him. Unfortunately, Sam's limbs were far outgrowing his control
over them and he wasn't quite able to get a good grip on his brother. "Stop
it... ass..." Sam sputtered out shoving at Dean's chest and laughing.
"Ugh Sammy that mouth!" Dean spat and easily caught Sam's arms, pinning them
down and straddling his hips in one quick moment. He sat up in victory, Sam's
hands flattened beneath his knees, staring down into Sam's flushed face.
"Seriously dude. I'm gonna get the soap. Youngins shouldn't be sayin' such
filthy shit," he smirked and leaned forward to ruffle Sam's hair roughly under
his palm, releasing his hold on Sam's arms before he could hurt him too bad.
And this was exactly why Sam had learned to detest his brother. Not only was he
being tickled and forced to make embarrassing noises, but Dean was straddling
him, his dick. And Dean was rubbing his ass against Sam's crotch and he was
already half hard, Jesus he was fourteen - he was perpetually half hard and
thinking about sex once every seven minutes. He learned that at school. Once
every seven minutes. Apparently, seven minutes had passed and Sam was trying to
get Dean off his lap before he figured out that he was hard. Slamming his hands
into his older brother's chest, Sam pushed as hard as he could and only
succeeded and sliding Dean's ass back across his trapped dick. "Fuck, Dean get
offa me," he growled, twisting to the side.
Eyes widening slightly, Dean shook his head, "Jesus you don't learn do you?" He
laughed and pressed his hips down harder into Sam to keep him rooted to the
spot. Then he realized exactly why his brother was sounding so panicky and his
eyes widened past the point of impossible. "Sammy... you're..." he pursed his
lips, telling himself that it was just the stimulation and the fact that Sam
was going through the last stages of puberty which translated to getting hard
at awkward moments. He couldn't resist the little jab, "Like me on your hips
Sam?" He growled and the words came out a lot huskier then he imagined, along
with the gentle rock of his ass back down into the tight pressure building in
Sam's crotch.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut as Dean spoke feeling the heat well up from his
crotch and race up his chest. "Shut-up," he groaned. He was so pissed off; he
didn't know what to do first. A yell built up in his throat and he let it go
pushing up hard with his legs and flipping his brother off to the side and
clambering on Dean's hips. Panting, hair in his eyes, Sam leaned his weight
forward pressing Dean's chest down with his hands. "Shut up," he hissed, "or
I'll make you shut up." His hands were shaking and his lip curled into a snarl
only made worse by the amused sparkle in his brother's eyes.
Biting back his surprise, Dean painted over it with a smirk and shook his head.
"You could try Sammy but I don't think you'll be able too," he chuckled and
pushed up into his brother, testing his weight to find the appropriate place to
flip him over at.
Sam would never be sure where it came from, hell, his mind was all over the
place. Puberty had basically destroyed Sam's ability to think. But his body was
in motion before he really had a chance to realize what he was doing. He
dropped his hands to the floor beside Dean's head and bent his elbows, dropping
down and crashing his mouth into his brother's. Sam had never kissed anyone but
he knew how it worked - or at least - it seemed parts of him did. He almost
missed his brother's mouth completely but after leaning slightly he managed to
get his lips slanted over Dean's. The heat shot further through his body the
instant his lips were moving on his brother's and he moaned softly as his dick
swelled painfully where it was trapped between their bodies. Sitting back, he
wiped at his lips with the back of his hand and stared down at his brother's
glistening lips.
This time Dean wasn't able to hide the shock on his face. His lips tingled,
little darts of pleasure shooting through him from the too brief contact.
Dean's eyes flickered over Sam's face in confusion for a moment, waiting for
the punch line, until he felt the hard throbbing pressure of Sam pressing
through his denims. "Sam," he whispered and curled his fingers around Sam's
arms to push him off. Only he didn't push him off so much as he dragged him
back down and crashed their lips together, mouth slanting easily over Sam,
tongue instantly snaking forward to seek permission inside tight heat.
Sam's lips parted, half in surprise and half in curiosity and when Dean's
tongue slid into his mouth he moaned again almost collapsing against his
brother's body. He didn't know what to do with his lips, or his tongue or
anything and he ended up desperately sucking on his brother's tongue trying to
get more of the heated feeling that was flooding through his veins. Kissing his
brother. Kissing his brother. Sam's body reeled back slamming into the coffee
table as he crawled backwards. He cried out in pain as the corner of the table
jammed into his shoulder blade and sat there panting, flushed, eyes glassy and
wide as he stared down at Dean.
Pushing up, Dean blinked rapidly at Sam before shoving up off the ground and
taking off down the hall. He slammed the bathroom door hard behind him, panting
heavily as his head fell back against the wooden surface. "Jesus Christ," he
hissed, lifting his head and letting it fall over and over into the wood until
it actually started to hurt. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. "Fucking
fuck," he spat and stumbled forward, hands curling tightly around the bathroom
counter.
Shoulder aching, lips burning, and his dick still harder than hell, Sam pushed
up off the floor and darted down the hallway almost falling over as his socked
feet slipped out from under him just outside their bedroom door. He rounded the
corner and slammed the door shut behind him throwing himself face down on the
bed. Obviously, there was something really wrong with him. No one kissed their
brother; no one kissed their brother and got hard. And now, Dean would either
hate him or tease him for the rest of his life. Or worse, tell their Father how
messed up in the head Sam was. He fought back the tears he could feel burning
behind his eyes and swore softly into his pillow.
After splashing some water on his face and calming himself down, Dean turned
slowly and pulled open the bathroom door. He had heard the bedroom door slam
and guilt tore through him. He was supposed to be the older brother, the wiser
one, the more mature one. Doing something like... Dean sighed heavily and
rested his hand on the door for a moment before turning the knob and pushing it
open. "Sam?" He asked quietly, stepping into the room and closing the door
behind him, eyes fixing on Sam's body on the bed.
Every muscle in Sam's body tightened. "Leave me alone," the pillow almost
absorbed his words and he shifted closer to the wall. He was sick and messed up
and ... yeah. That was it. He should just chuck himself off a bridge or
something.
"Sam..." Dean tried again and crossed the room, dropping down onto the edge of
the bed and reaching out to lay his hand on the small of Sam's back. "I'm sorry
okay? I shouldn't have... done that. I know you were messing around and I took
it too far. So I'm sorry," he withdrew his hand after a moment when heat
coursed up his arm from the touch.
Sam turned his face to the wall so he could breathe without have to look at
Dean. "Am I sick or somethin'?" He voice wasn't as steady as he would have
liked but he was already deep in it so what difference could it make now. For
once, Dean didn't sound like he was going to tease Sam within an inch of
punching him.
Dean frowned and shifted closer to Sam, spreading out on the bed and rolling on
his side to face his turned away body. "Sick? Why?" He laid a hand on top of
Sam's shoulder and squeezed softly. "Because... you liked it?" He watched Sam
pull in on himself and he sighed, shifting forward to say softly into the back
of his neck. "Then I must be sick too. If that's what you think you are."
Sam swallowed and took a few deep breaths. His eyes trailed up the wood grain
on the wall watching all the lines flow in and out of one another. He was
trying really hard to make sense of what Dean was telling him. "You..." Sam
shifted a little, shoulder rising up unconsciously as Dean's breath moved
across his skin. "I don't get it..."
Sliding back, Dean shook his head and pushed up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't
even... I shouldn't push this. You're young and confused and I would be taking
advant..." Dean huffed and looked away, reaching out and petting Sam's side for
a moment before pulling away. "It's okay Sam. It won't happen again, I promise
to leave you alone."
"I'm not young," Sam muttered, "I'm fourteen now." Sam rolled over not
realizing how close Dean was and ended up inches away from him. "Push what?
What would you be pushing?" Sam could feel Dean's breath on his lips and he
licked them almost as though he expected to be able to taste the air.
Eyes fixing on Sam's mouth for a long moment, Dean's voice came out much deeper
and laced with arousal as he thought about how Sam's lips seemed to burn
against his. "Push... this. Us. The more than us?" He swallowed thickly and
leaned forward to brush his lips against Sam's. "That."
Sam's chest tightened with the heat that shot down his body from the touch. "I
..." his lips pressed into a tight line. "I'm not... I'm not fucked up?" His
heart felt like it was in his throat and his body jolted when the tips of his
fingers accidentally brushed against the cotton of his brother's shirt.
Shaking his head and shifting his body forward, Dean whispered, "No. You're not
fucked up," he hovered his lips centimetres from Sam’s, eyes blurring from
trying to peer down at his brother's lips. "And don't use the f-word.
Seriously, I'll have to wash your mouth out with... something," Dean chuckled
and let his hand settle on Sam's hips. "You gonna kiss me again Sammy?"
"I... I should?" Sam's fingers straightened out, the tips grazing across the
warmth of Dean's stomach under his shirt. "I've never kissed before." Sam
blinked a few times and reached his arm out further to rub the backs of his
fingers against Dean's abs. His brother had started working out a few months
ago and his body was already different, so much different than Sam's.
"I'd say you did pretty good before," Dean said softly, body moving up into the
gentle touch of Sam's fingers. "Think of it kind of like when we train. Counter
act my actions you know? So when my tongue is in your mouth, give me room to
explore, drawback, and then your tongue can come into my mouth," Dean chuckled
and shook his head slightly. "Really, I have this feeling you'll get the hang
of it pretty quickly. You're a quick learner." Dean slid his fingers under
Sam's shirt, pressing down into the flesh and working small circles.
Sam's breath hitched in his chest and he reached out his hand to slide over
Dean's hip. He could feel Dean's firm skin just under the denim and his fingers
curled into him. Parting his lips Sam dipped his head down and brushed his lips
against Dean's softly. His fingers curled tight over Dean's hip and he tilted
his head to the side just enough to move his open mouth against his brothers
and slip his tongue out shyly. Pulling back Sam licked his lips and peered at
Dean from under his bangs. "Like that?"
"Like that," Dean agreed and slid forward to seal his lips over Sam's once
more. There was something almost sinfully delicious about Sam's sheer level of
innocence. It made him feel perverted and wrong but so fucking good it was
almost impossible to ignore. Moaning into the kiss he snaked his tongue swiftly
into Sam's mouth, circling in slow swirls as he flattened his hand against
Sam's flesh, bringing his fingers round to the front of his body and shoving up
under his brother's shirt. Another moan fell into the kiss as his finger
brushed along Sam's nipples, tweaking softly in time with his tongue's thrust
forward and draw back.
Sam's body was thrumming under his brother's hand. No one had touched him like
that before and it felt so good; he could feel his dick swelling again, full
and hot in his jeans. He waited until Dean's tongue pulled back and chased it
with his own, moaning softly when he slipped into wet heat. His heart started
to flutter in his chest, his hand slipped up along Dean's side as his mouth
opened wider. He wanted more. The taste of his brother was familiar and
different and hot all at the same time. Something in Sam's mind gave in, gave
up and he shifted closer suddenly needing to be pressed up against Dean's body.
Frantic hands moved over Dean's back, clawing, moving, nails scratching down
the fabric of his brother's shirt. The kisses were wet and messy, hot and firm
and Sam could barely breathe.
The way Sam was practically trying to crawl into his skin was driving Dean
insane; literally, he was going to end up coming from the frantic rub of their
hips together. It hit him suddenly that he didn't want their first time to be
over quite so fast. Pulling back from the kiss with a gasp, Dean slid his
fingers down and curled them into the hem of Sam's t-shirt, tugging up and over
his head, tossing it to the side. "Tell me to stop and I will," Dean murmured
as he dropped his head and began spreading kisses along Sam's neck, sliding to
his collar bone and sucking roughly. Dean trailed his hand down, along Sam's
waist band, fingers ghosting over the silky smooth flesh.
As his arms pulled out of his t-shirt Sam let them fall down over Dean’s
shoulders drawing his brother's mouth closer, harder. "Dean..." it was almost a
question but then Sam's thoughts were entirely focused on the heat of his
brother's mouth as it moved along his shoulders, then, the touch along the
sensitive skin of his stomach. His muscles rippled and drew away as he sucked
in a harsh breath. Sam slid his palms down his brother's back bunching up the
material of his shirt and tugging at it. His entire body shook; his hips were
twisting forward, rutting desperately against Dean's thigh.
"Relax," Dean soothed, hand coming around Sam's waist to rest on the small of
his back, gliding down over his ass and squeezing firmly. He pulled back for a
moment and tugged his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. After a
moment to gaze down at the wiry frame of his brother, Dean's lips quirked up in
a smile before he fell forward once more, sliding their chests together to seal
his lips over Sam's again. He let his leg fall between Sam's, rubbing his thigh
into Sam's crotch as his tongue thrust forward into Sam's mouth.
Struggling to calm his breathing Sam's mouth moved against Dean's slowly at
first, shyly. He loved the feel of Dean's lips, smoother, softer than he had
expected. His older brother was all hard; muscle and strength but here, this,
was softer and Sam knew how to respond almost on instinct. His mouth slanted,
opening wide and drawing Dean's tongue deep inside. Moving his tongue over
Dean's he moaned into the kiss, thrilling at the feel of his brother's gentle
shudder when he heard the sound. His hands had settled on the warm skin of
Dean's back, smooth, damp with sweat; gentle swells of muscle, he'd never felt
the way Dean's muscles rippled and rolled under his palms and it was hot.
Everything was hot. Sam was pretty much stuck in the spot where his brother was
suddenly about the sexiest thing he'd ever encountered. "Please... Dean," Sam
didn't even know what he was asking for but his fingers tightened their grip on
his brother's flesh, nails biting into the skin.
"I got you Sammy," Dean blew out a quick puff of air and slid along his
brother's body once more. His lips worked along his chest, sucking at random
patches of skin, drawing Sam's nipple into his mouth and grazing his teeth over
the sensitive skin. Slipping his hand between them, he rubbed his palm down
into the hard line of Sam's arousal, working the heat under his fingers in
steady drags of pressure.
Sam's spine arched the instant Dean's hand moved over his swollen dick, his
hips launching forwards toward his brother. Sam moved restless hands down over
his brother's back to settle on Dean's ass, firm and muscular under his jeans.
Heaving a long hard breath into his lungs Sam rocked his hips slower, trembling
as heat welled in his belly. "Dean..." he murmured, "c..can't.." It was too
much, the touch, the wet heat of his brother's mouth, blood was surging through
his veins and Sam's hips jolted forward. One hand slipping just under his
brother's jeans the other moving up to wrap over Dean's soft hair, Sam moaned
as his hips rolled forward a handful of times; the muscles in his abs
tightened, his balls squeezing tighter and he came. Sam's voice was tight, he
cried out curling into Dean's body as his dick throbbed and pulsed and wave
after wave of pleasure barrelled over him.
"Jesus," Dean grunted, rearing back to watch his brother come apart beneath
him. His face was flushed red, slightly damp with sweat, outrageously gorgeous
in its blissed state. "So sexy," he mumbled and smirked as he dipped down to
brush kisses along Sam's lips. He never thought he'd consider his little,
geeky, long limbed brother sexy but like this, he was exactly that. Rolling
over to the side and dropping his hands down to work quickly at his button and
fly. Shimming his pants off his hips, Dean let out a relieved stream of air as
his fingers wrapped around his cock and dragged up in steady strokes, desperate
for the relief.
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth Sam trailed his eyes along his brother's
jaw line, down his chest and to the line of his shaft. It was bigger than
Sam's, fuller, longer, the skin dark red against Dean's pale belly. He watched
his brother's hand move over himself, twisting, grasping, smooth movements.
Shifting closer, tongue darting out to wet his lips, Sam's fingers slid up over
the warm skin of his brother's hip, settling on the jut of bone, fingers
stretching forward to brush the side of Dean's rigid flesh. Sam's eyes darted
up to his brother's face as a small moan left Dean's lips; he was gorgeous,
flushed skin under his freckles, eyes almost black half-lidded and glassy.
Sam's free hand moved to brush across his brother's lips, full, red and wet.
After swallowing hard a few times Dean managed to get his vision to lose the
blur as he stared into his brother's face, mouth parted slightly, tongue
flicking out across his lips and over Sam's fingers. Dean continued to drag his
fist over himself, gasping in quick moans as he alternated between squeezing
his fingers and twisting his wrists Every time Sam's fingers just barely
ghosted across his flesh little sparks of pleasure shot through him. "Sammy,"
he moaned softly, shifting forward to brush their lips together. "You can touch
me, if you want too," he whispered into Sam's mouth.
Sam's palm slid across the downy skin below Dean's hip as his lips moved on his
brother's mouth. Lapping at the side of Dean's mouth, Sam tasted his sweat and
the sweet warmth of his mouth. His fingers moved to curled around the bottom of
his brother's dick, squeezing gently his thumb sweeping up and down slowly.
With a low groan Dean thrust up into Sam's touch and turned to catch Sam's
tongue in his mouth, sucking it into his mouth greedily. He let go of himself,
giving Sam room to touch and explore and letting his hand come up to cup around
Sam's neck. Dean could feel his orgasm, pulling at him, so close he knew it was
only a matter of minutes. "God Sam," he gasped as he pulled his lips back. "So
close, c'mon..." he groaned as he jerked his hips forward.
Sam moved his hand up his brother's hard-on, marvelling at the weight of it
before he started to move his fingers quickly. He moved the way he liked it
when he jerked off, slight pressure, towards the head sweeping his thumb over
the slick head. He watched Dean's face, seeing the emotions change as they
flitted across his face; Sam curled over Dean's body slightly, brushing his
nose across Dean's cheek then sucking the skin just under his jaw. Drawing the
skin up hard Sam could feel the blood warming his mouth as it marked Dean and
Sam couldn't help smiling as he let go. Dean would kill him later. Dean let out
a moan that drew Sam's attention like a whip crack and his eyes snapped down to
his brother's dick watching Dean's hips rocked up into his own palm.
Dean could feel the pull and tug at his senses, balls tightening as his orgasm
built up in him and shoved him over the edge. "Fuck Sam," he moaned loudly as
his hips stuttered up into Sam's hand, shooting white hot jets of come onto his
brother's hand, across his abs. His shoulder shook slightly as he worked
through his release, another long moan falling from his lips before he
collapsed back on the bed. "Damn," he blew out in a slow breath.
"You're..." Sam's jaw slammed shut before he said anything else. He didn't want
Dean to make fun of him for thinking his brother was gorgeous ... but he was.
Sam blinked a few times and took a deep breath letting his fingers slide up
through his brother's come, he rubbed it across Dean's stomach then glanced up
at his brother and slipped his fingers quickly into his mouth. It didn't taste
like he expected, saltier, earthy. Cheeks flushing Sam sucked on his fingers
and stared into Dean's eyes.
Eyelids fluttering, Dean's eyes fixed on the fingers in Sam's mouth and he
groaned, "Fuck Sam that's just..." Shaking his head a few times, Dean chuckled
before he rolled off the side of the bed and snatched at his shirt on the
floor, using it to wipe himself off. After he was clean and tucked back into
his jeans, he rolled back to face his brother. "This... are you okay?" Reaching
out, Dean let his fingers slide along the curve of Sam's jaw, thumb dragging
over his chin.
Wrinkling his nose Sam pressed his lips together and tugged at the front of his
jeans, "feel kinda gross," he smiled shyly. Scooting forward Sam ducked his
head down to suck Dean's bottom lip into his mouth and set about licking his
way along it. His leg slid over top of Dean's and his hand moved over his
brother's chest. "S'good," he murmured against Dean's lips.
"Yeah," Dean murmured, tilting up into the kiss with a small smile on his lips.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
It wasn't like Sam had intended to start making out with Dean and it certainly
wasn't like he'd expected to ever rub up against him and end up leaving the
room with his boxers sticky and wet and his cheeks rosy underneath his tousled
hair. But it had happened and in Sam's mind, seeing as the world hadn't ended
it was okay. Dean was eighteen, he knew more and he certainly didn't seem to be
freaking out. Sam couldn't wipe the grin off his face for the next few hours.
It developed into a problem quickly. The thing was, Sam had to look at Dean all
the time. They shared a bedroom, the trained together; they were usually
sprawled over each other in the living room watching TV well into the night.
Suddenly there was an undercurrent to everything they did; sexual tension,
want. Where fingers brushed before, playful, teasing they now left goose flesh
in their wake; pupils darkened, jeans tightened uncomfortably across hips. It
didn't suck, Sam wouldn't change it - it was just different.
If their father noticed anything different, he didn't say a word. John was gone
hunting so much he rarely seemed to have much of an idea what his boys were up
to. He knew that Dean was fully capable and would never let anything happen to
his younger brother; therefore, he didn't worry. He might have noticed them
falling asleep with their limbs tangled together, might have noticed the quiet
whispers and murmurs through the bedroom wall but if he did he wrote it off to
one more oddity of their family unit.
As much Dean enjoyed most sexual things, Sam was going through that puberty
stage where everything was about the idea of getting off. Sam had this tendency
to capture Dean in little situations that he was mostly unprepared for, which
threw Dean off his usual stability. Like the time almost a month after the
first time when Sam caught him coming out of the bathroom, pinned him up
against the wall and dragged his body the full length of him. Dean's eyes had
widened - their dad was just down the hall in his room - and then Sam was gone
and throwing a smirk over his shoulder. Clearly Sam was learning from the
master.
When John wasn't home Dean would let their lips drag together on the couch,
kissing in the dark in only the glow of the TV. Sam was constantly pressing
against him, rubbing for friction and release. Or shoving his hand down Dean's
pants to work at his flesh. Any time Sam tried to crawl into his bed at night
and push things further, Dean had to gently shove him back. There were some
lines he just couldn't cross. Not while Sam was still just fourteen years old
and so innocent. Dean already felt guilty as it was for taking things this far.
Three months of putting up with Sam constantly rubbing all over him was
beginning to wear on him and at this point Dean could barely manage to finish
making the macaroni and cheese on the stove. Sam was practically glued to his
body, mouthing kisses along his neck, rocking his hips along his upper thigh
and almost over his ass. "Sam, I swear I will tie you to the chair for the rest
of the night if you don't stop," Dean detangled himself once more, placing his
hands on Sam's shoulder and forcing him to take a step back. "Calm yourself."
"C'mon, Dean, I know that you like it," Sam walked around to the other side of
his brother and slid forward, hand moving over the front of Dean's zipper. He
fingers curled around the hard line in the front of his brother's jeans. "See?"
he moaned softly licking the shell of Dean's ear and rolling his crotch against
his brother's hip. "It's been a couple of days Dean ... we can eat dinner
later." He nipped at his brother's ear lobe and sucked on it.
Dean groaned in frustration and flicked off the stove, growling low in his
throat and tightening his hand on Sam's arm. Without a word he led him from the
house, slamming the door behind him and shoving him toward the car. "Get in,"
he snapped, pressing his palm into his crotch to adjust the denim against the
tight and uncomfortable heat.
Sam stumbled forward and grabbed the door handle, yanking the passenger door
open. As he slid into the seat he looked over at his brother's stony face.
"Dean?" He fidgeted not sure if this was a good thing or a decidedly bad thing.
Dean's face was a mask and Sam had no idea what was on his mind.
Shoving the key roughly into the ignition, Dean only barely glanced at Sam as
the engine roared to life. He slipped the car into drive and spun the tires as
he pulled out of the driveway. He needed to clear his head, get them out of the
confines of the house where something so secret and private could easily spiral
out of control. He took random turns, heading for the outskirts of the town
they were in.
Tugging at the front of his jeans Sam shifted a little on the leather seat.
"Dean? Where are we going?" He looked out the wind shield watching the trees
fly past the car. "You pissed at me?" Sam reached out to touch Dean's thigh
softly, fingers barely resting across the denim.
Jerking the car off the side of the road, Dean guided them down a dirt path,
car bouncing over rocks and potholes as they moved. Finally he spun the car
into a secluded area in the middle of nowhere he'd found a few months ago on
one of his random nightly drives. Turning the key and pulling it out of the
ignition, he turned in his seat and fixed his eyes on Sam. "Get out."
Sam's head snapped to the side, "What?" He stared at his brother. "You...
you're kiddin' me." His eyes moved over Dean's face looking for some kind of
sign that Dean wasn't about to leave him in the middle of nowhere. "Right?
Dean?" It wasn't like walking back from here would kill him of anything but,
seriously.
"Sam," Dean narrowed his eyes, lips pursing. "Does it look like I'm kidding?"
Sam huffed, eyes widening. He opened his mouth to say something, shook his head
and yanked on the door handle and pushed the door open. "You suck." He climbed
out of the car and slammed the door walking a few steps away and giving Dean
his back as he folded his arms right across his chest.
With a small smirk Dean pushed the door open, watching Sam's shoulders stiffen
at the creak of the car door. Slamming it shut a minute later; Dean crossed
silently to him and wrapped a hand around his arm. In one quick motion he spun
Sam around to the car, pressing his back into the passenger door, hands tugging
sharply at Sam's waist band and dragging him slightly up off the ground.
"You're such a fuckin' tease Sam," he growled, sliding his lips over Sam's jaw
line.
The protest died in Sam's mouth when he realized that Dean wasn't so much angry
as ... turned on. Hands scrabbling at the car Sam let his head fall back
against the warm metal as Dean's lips moved over his jaw, his neck, sucking and
biting. "M'not," he murmured as one leg wrapped around Dean's, rubbing down the
full length of his brother's jeans.
"Fuckin' are," Dean growled and slipped the button of Sam's jeans out of the
fasten. Pulling the zipper down roughly he spun them around and dragged Sam
around, shoving a hand roughly under Sam's boxers, sliding down. "Jesus Sammy,"
he needed them both to be horizontal right now. Reaching forward he tugged at
the back door and practically dove into the back seat.
Sam stood there for a few moments, leaning against the roof of the car,
panting, trying to catch his breath. Kneeling on the back seat Sam crawled up
his brother's body, elbow banging into the back of the front seat. He swore
softly under his breath and tugged at his brother's belt getting it undone as
quickly as possible; Sam's fingers were clumsy, nervous, and it took him a bit
longer to get the button and zipper undone. He tugged on the denim, fingers
grabbing up the material of Dean's boxers and jeans as he pulled it all over
his brother's hard-on, dragging the material down to Dean's hips. "Shit..." he
whispered.
"You're tellin' me," Dean mumbled, shoving once more at Sam's jeans and boxers.
It took a fair bit of negotiating, to get his leg spread out and Sam's pants
down enough, but it was worth it when he could drag Sam down and crush their
lips together, cocks sliding together in a flash of burning pleasure. Dean
moaned loudly into the kiss, tightening his arms around Sam as his tongue
thrust forward.
Sam slid an arm under his brother's neck gripping tightly, hips already rocking
forward and back against Dean. The slick heat of his brother's dick was
perfect; it set off something inside of Sam, something crazy. It was so
different, the way their cocks slid together, Sam being on top, controlling the
pressure and able to watch Dean's face and the way he moaned. Sam's cock
jumped, twitching full and thick against Dean's. He moaned out his brother's
name and tried to hold himself up, give Dean some room to move - room to thrust
back up against him. Crashing his mouth into his brother's swollen lips Sam
moaned again, louder, suddenly realizing he didn’t have to be quiet.
Rocking up as hard as he could, Dean's hands clung to Sam's back, pulling him
to deepen their kiss. He pulled his legs up further, giving Sam as much room as
possible. There was something intoxicating about the way Sam moaned, the way he
moved over Dean so sure of himself while at the same time seemingly waiting for
Dean's guidance. "So good Sam," Dean gasped as his head fell back onto the
seat, body arching up into Sam's for more pressure.
Sam's body moved like a wave with each burst of pleasure from the way they
ground together. Hips rocking against his brother, spine arching then curling
toward Dean, shoulders thrown back as his head drifted to the side. Sam's eyes
were locked on his brother's face when his mouth wasn't crushed against those
crazy-full lips. He thrust, tentatively at first, sliding their cocks together
watching Dean's eyes, feeling the way his brother's tongue thrust into Sam's
mouth with each movement of their hips. Arms giving out, Sam fell heavily on
Dean's chest, tugging his own shirt up, wanting more contact, more heated flesh
against him. Pushing up ever-so-slightly with his knees Sam worked his hips
into a rhythm, rolling his hips and lower back against his brother moaning with
each slide and thrust. Finally, his eyes slipped closed.
"Want you too..." Dean breathed and rocked his hips up, rolling them along his
flesh. He could feel his orgasm already building; pretty much constantly
building any time Sam started his teasing actions. It was Dean's fault; he
seemed to bring out Sam's teasing nature. "Come for me Sammy," he growled into
Sam's ear, turning his head to suck Sam's ear lobe into his mouth, dragging his
teeth along the flesh. "I'll come with you, then we can both taste our come
mixed together," he blew a breath out along Sam's ear and pressed his fingers
harder into Sam's back with another quick slide up.
Sam managed to moan out half his brother's name and a string of wordless sounds
as Dean's words turned him inside out. His hips snapped forwards, fingers
curling hard into the back of his brother's neck. His heart skittered around in
his chest and Sam felt his orgasm shoot up through his body from his crotch. He
felt it everywhere, his balls, his thighs; it rippled over his abs and up his
chest. His rhythm faltered as he thrust twice more against his brother's heat,
"gonna," he moaned. White heat shot through his body, and his come shot hard
and fast, pulsing against his brother and sliding between them.
True to his words, Dean was coming right along with Sam, feeling the burn of
his body, the way it stuttered and jerked against his. "Sammy," he moaned, body
arching up off the car seat and into Sam as his release pulled through him,
snapping his eyes shut. As he ebbed down from the sensations his hips fell down
onto the seat once more, hand sliding between them once more to swipe at the
pool of still warm come - his own and his brother's - gathering it onto his
fingers and bringing it up to rest against Sam's lips. "Taste."
Sam reached up and curled his long fingers around his brother's wrist then
sucked the fingers into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits, teeth
grazing along the skin as he sucked the taste of them both deep into his mouth.
His hips rolled once more against his brother's as the musky taste filled his
mouth and he breathed in the scent of sex and sweat so strong in the car.
Pulling back a little he let Dean's fingers pop out of his mouth and smiled as
his hand snaked down between them, fingers running through the slick mess on
his brother's belly. Pulling his hand back up he pressed two fingers against
his brother's lips, thumb brushing the thick bottom lip, "now you..." Sam bit
down hard on the side of his mouth. Watching.
Dean's lips quirked up in a smirk and he pulled the fingers into his mouth,
sweeping his tongue along the flesh to taste their mixed juices. Moaning
softly, he worked the musky taste off his brother's fingers, locking his eyes
with Sam's. After a few minutes he pulled away, the fingers from his mouth and
let his head drop back onto the leather seat, sighing. "You gotta stop drivin'
me crazy like that Sammy."
Swallowing, Sam took a few moments to find his voice as he settled his head
against his brother's chest; he listened to the dull, steady thud of Dean's
heart. "'Cause.. this was my punishment?" His hand ran in circles over the
smooth, sweat-damp skin of his brother's chest. He sighed, "I'll ... I'll try,"
his voice was quiet. All Sam could hear was the beating of Dean's heart and the
rustle of the tall grass in the wind. "You're just so ... " he could feel
himself starting to blush, "sexy..." he nuzzled against his brother's chest,
inhaling the familiar scent of him. "And stuff..." he added sleepily.
"Well, there's no denying that," Dean nodded and chuckled, wrapping his arms
tighter around Sam once more as he settled back in the seat. "We just have to
be careful," he said softly and ran his hands up and down Sam's back slowly.
"This is our secret you know?"
"Secret," Sam echoed. His eyes were heavy with sleep and his lips moved lazily
against his brother's flesh. "Will be ... careful." Sam would never let
anything come in between them; there was no reason to believe anything ever
would. "Shhhh," Sam pressed his fingers to his brother's lips, "wanted me quiet
and calm... am now." Smiling, Sam could feel himself drifting off peacefully.
Dean grinned for a few minutes, letting his eyes drift close and arms tighten
around Sam's back.
***** Chapter 2 *****
There was never a time in Dean's life that he thought he'd be a relationship
type of guy but things with Sam were on a level above that. For two years they
gradually built up this thing between them in between school and work and
hunting. Every spare moment was spent together, when their father was around
and they could lay tangled in each other's arms, lips sliding together, bodies
colliding in gentle rocks and sticky sweat slides. They learned each other on a
level few seldom got to learn another person on. Dean knew all the things that
could make Sam tick and Sam knew him likewise. They snuck around in shadows,
barely resisting the urge to touch whenever their dad was around, settling for
little things like their knees resting together under the table or their elbows
bumping as they sat on the couch. Every moment Dean got to feel Sam coming
apart at his hand only cemented the fact that they would only be at their best
together.
The hardest times for Sam were at night. Just feet away from Dean's bed, Sam
lay there in the dark, alone. It wasn't even always the lack of touch, the hard
lines of Dean's body anymore. It was sometimes just the feeling of wanting to
fall asleep near his brother. Dean stuck to his guns and made Sam return to him
bed whenever he managed to wrangle his way in there. If their father was home,
Dean would stop Sam before he even tried. If their father was gone, sometimes,
they would rub and touch, bring each other off and then Dean would shove off
gently from Sam and they would separate. It seemed like such a subjective line
to Sam. Something in Dean's mind..but maybe there was more to it. Sam settled
for the moments he did get; the hot hand jobs in the back seat of the car,
driving each other nearly insane with touch in the darkened movie theater, and
the rare times he fell asleep in Dean's arms on the couch late at night. It was
a good life, Sam was happy.
Sam had been on edge all day at school. Dad was gone for the entire weekend on
a hunt which meant he and Dean would have the house to themselves for three
entire nights. He was pretty certain that Dean's logic for separating them each
night would fall apart given the circumstances. Sam just wasn't used to not
getting his way, Dean gave in to him on so many things but never sleeping
together for the entire night. When the final bell went at school Sam strode
home, a young man with a mission. Dean was working on the car when Sam got
home. He saw the hood up, paint glinting in the sunlight from the bottom of the
driveway.
"Dean," he called out as he jogged up the last of the path to the car. Sam
loved it when Dean worked on the car, he wore his old ragged jeans and a white
undershirt and by the time Sam got home from school there would be grease
stains on his face and arms. It was pretty hot, but then, lately, Sam thought
that almost everything Dean did was pretty hot. He wasn't disappointed when he
rounded the front of the car. Leaning over quickly he kissed the small of
Dean's back before he extracted himself from under the hood.
Turning toward him, Dean's lips quirked up in a smirk, "Hey Sammy, how was
school?" He rubbed his fingers along the flesh that Sam's lips had touched,
face pulling together slightly. Sometimes Sam threw him off guard in ways he
just wasn't expecting, getting him so hard in just an instant it hurt to even
stand straight.
"Was good," Sam tossed his backpack on the ground and leaned against the front
fender. "Katie Miller asked me out." He grinned at Dean, watching for the
flicker of jealously he knew would spark in his brother's eyes even though they
both knew it wasn't even remotely close to being a reality.
Rubbing at his hands with a rag, Dean's lips thinned out into a tense line
before he lifted his gaze. "Oh yeah? What did you say?" His eyes slid up the
line of Sam's rapidly extending body, tracing the lines that had been steadily
filling out as he grew into himself.
"Told her I was seein' someone already." He grabbed the hood and stretched
forward knowing that his t-shirt would pull up revealing the slip of skin along
his waistband. "Told her I had someone who drove me crazy," Sam wet his lips,
"and said my Dad was gone all weekend and I had big plans." He pressed his
crotch against the fender, careful not to scratch the paint with his button.
"She wasn't very happy with me." His eyes were locked with Dean's
Dean couldn't resist the slight smirk as he shifted forward, hand coming out to
ghost briefly along the exposed strip of skin. "Big plans huh? Gonna throw a
party or something?" He laughed, knowing whenever he played naive it annoyed
his brother more than anything else. "You could always invite her over, I'd
just love to meet her."
Sam's eyes narrowed, "maybe I will." He huffed and dropped his arms, "maybe
I'll bring her over to watch movies and make out with her on the couch. Let you
sit there with your beer and watch." Bending over slowly Sam picked up his back
pack, "gonna go eat - you want anything? Build up your energy for later? You're
not as young as you used to be." Sam threw a grin over his shoulder as he
headed into the house.
"Asshole," Dean rolled his eyes and stepped away from the car, brushing past
Sam and heading inside first. "I'm gonna take a shower, it's fuckin' hot," he
tugged his undershirt up and over his head the moment they stepped inside,
throwing it behind him at Sam as he walked towards the bathroom.
Sam picked up the shirt and moved down the hallway behind his brother. "I'll
... uh," he flipped the shirt over his shoulder so he could smell the slight
scent of his brother's flesh, "just be lying in your bed naked while you're in
there." He didn't smile, he just moved past Dean and closed their bedroom door
behind him.
Staring at the door silently for a moment, Dean shook his head and stepped into
the bathroom. He didn't know if Sam was joking but he kind of had this feeling
he wasn't. The subject was a tense one, never ceasing to spark up a fight when
Sam brought it up. Dean stepped quickly into the shower, scrubbing the grease
and sweat from his skin as he turned over whether he would be finding Sam naked
on his bed again and they'd once more have to discuss why they couldn't go all
the way. Sam was too young for that type of thing. And really, that was the
last line they had left. Crossing that... it was like sealing a fate, and even
though Dean was fairly certain he would never be so affected by anyone like Sam
affected him, there was still some last little hope for Sam. Not to mention
having sex would alter their senses and if their dad were to come home
earlier... there were just too many risks.
Turning off the shower a few minutes later Dean scrubbed at his hair with a
towel as he stepped out of the stall and looked at himself in the mirror. He
was more than half hard, as if his body refused to listen to his reasons they
couldn't have sex. Shaking his head he wrapped his towel low around his waist
before crossing the hall to the bedroom. Dean listened quietly for a moment
before turning the knob in his hand and pushing the door open. Dean's eyes
fixed on his brother almost instantly and his lips quirked up, trailing up the
broad expanse of his bare chest. "Sammy..." he breathed, shutting the door
behind him out of habit alone.
"Yeah?" Sam was leaning up against the headboard of his brother's bed. "All
done with your shower?" He patted the bed beside him. Usually he could at least
get Dean to get into bed with him if he used all his best sad expressions. Sam
smiled and licked his lips.
Considering him for a moment, Dean walking silently over to the bed and set
down on the edge, flicking at the towel. He should have gotten up and put on
boxers to be safe but Dean was occasionally stupid. "Are we going to have this
talk again?" He sighed and scratched at the back of his neck.
Sam shifted forward, leg slipping out from under the covers to slip over his
brother's thighs. He scooted up close to him. "It doesn't make sense, Dean."
Sam mouthed his brother's neck, lapping up the beads of water. "Dad's gone ...
we have the whole place to ourselves. I ... want it ... you want it." Sam ran
his teeth along his brother's collar bone.
"Sam," Dean sighed, leaning into Sam's lips even as his mind reeled in protest.
"You're too young. It's... not like with a girl. Sex together... that's a big
fuckin' deal and we should wait. Until you're eighteen. If you still want it
then, we'll talk," his eye lids fluttered slightly and he turned to the side,
trying to motivate himself to slide away.
"What's different? You had sex when you were my age." Sam shifted closer, "just
get in bed with me for a while, let's do that while Dad's gone," his lips moved
over the shell of his brother's ear. "Please," he whispered, "just touching for
a while, wanna feel you..." Sam's voice was thick as his hands slid along the
edge of the towel loosening it from Dean's hips.
Pursing his lips, Dean could already feel the last of his restraints slipping.
Sam had been arguing this point for months now and Dean was trying to hold on
to his little wisps of reason. "I..." he swallowed hard a few times before
sighing and shifting on the mattress, spreading out tugging Sam down with him.
"Sam if we do this... that would be it. We'd cross that final line and there
would be no turning back," he dragged his tongue across his lips, scanning his
brother's expression.
"Why would I ever turn back?" Sam flipped the covers back and pulled his
brother flush against him. It was the first time they'd been completely naked
together and touching and Sam could feel his heart about to beat right out of
his chest. "I won't ever want anyone else..." He pressed his lips to the corner
of his brother's mouth sliding his tongue out gently.
"I won't either," Dean agreed and slid forward slightly brushing his lips along
Sam's neck. "What if I hurt you?" He asked quietly, settling a hand low on
Sam's hip bone and rubbing his thumb in gentle circles. "It... it will hurt.
What if I do something wrong and completely fuck you up?" Dean couldn't help
chuckling. "In a not good way."
"You won't," Sam buried his face in Dean's shoulder. "I've ... been, well, I
..." Sam bit down hard on his brother's neck, sucking the skin up into his
mouth and rolling it between his teeth. His cock was already so hard it was
aching and he slid his leg between Dean's bringing their hips together.
Dean gasped slightly and shifted up into Sam, head falling to the side. "You've
been...?" He had a pretty good idea what Sam was going to say but he needed to
hear because there was a pretty good chance those words were going to be the
thing to seal the deal and destroy the last little holds he had on no.
Sam's voice was husky, his throat tight; he leaned down and kissed Dean's
earlobe then whispered, "I like to think about you while I'm in the shower," he
nipped the edge of his brother's ear, "I like to finger myself, leave myself
open ..." he shivered at his own words and his tongue darted quickly in and out
of Dean's ear. "I want you inside me ... please..." Pulling back he stared into
Dean's eyes letting him see how turned on he was, how serious, how ready. He
pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly then caught his brother's mouth
with his.
Moaning into the kiss Dean rolled them over, falling into the space between
Sam's legs. He pulled back from the kiss with a gasp and let his hand slip down
between them. "How often?" He asked, reaching up under his pillow to grab the
bottle of lube they occasionally used when Dean wanted to jerk Sam off hard and
fast without hurting his flesh. Sam had suggested using it awhile ago and
always made sure it was nearby, Dean couldn't help wondering if there was an
alternative motive for that. Like this moment here when he flipped up the cap
and smeared cool liquid over his fingers. "How often do you finger yourself?"
He repeated as the tip of his finger found puckered flesh and circled slowly.
Sam sucked in a quick breath, "when... sometimes," Sam was already twisting
against the mattress just from the touch of his brother's finger, "Dean... most
times, in the shower," Sam spread his legs apart to give his brother more room.
His hands slid over Dean's back and down his side, tugging gently at his hips.
"Mm," Dean hummed slightly and dipped down to suck at random patches of skin
that he could reach. "Might have to watch that more often," he smirked slightly
and shifted up once more to watch Sam's face as he slid his finger forward
slowly.
Sam threw his head back, hips pushing down against his brother's finger.
"Dean," his hands moved down his brother’s body to grab onto his ass. His
eyelids fluttered closed and Sam sucked on his bottom lip as he arched up off
the bed.
This was a whole new level of Sam coming apart at his hand. He pursed his lips
as he felt the heat soar through him, zeroed in on his finger. "Jesus," he
gasped, a little in shock at how very tight Sam was. Dean slid back further on
the bed, wanting to see his finger buried in Sam's muscle. Catching his lip
between his teeth, Dean worked his finger slowly in and out before pressing a
second one forward, eyes shooting up to Sam's face. "Okay?"
Looking down at his brother, bleary eyed, and smiling Sam whispered, "fine...
s'good Dean." He brushed his fingers over his brother's cheek then pushed up
shakily on his elbows. It felt so much better than Sam had thought it would.
Completely different than his own fingers, better, more... Sam's breath sped up
as he thought about what was to come.
Dean let all his attention narrow in on stretching Sam, working the tight heat
with two fingers until they slipped and slid in and out without a problem. It
took a little more maneuvering to get his third finger inside and he tried to
push slowly, eyes locking on his brother's face as he pushed forward. Dean let
his other hand come up to curl around Sam's cock, stroking the flesh slowly as
he pushed his third finger all the way in. Continuing his squeezing strokes
along Sam's hard cock, he waited until his brother's hips were moving
restlessly down onto his fingers before slowly beginning to stretch the
muscles. "Tell me when you think it's enough," Dean said softly, trying to
judge the level of Sam's comfort from the lines on his face.
Moaning as his hips thrust up off the bed Sam looked up at his brother, "now,
s'fine, enough," he fell back onto the bed, wriggling down, trying to get
underneath his brother. It felt like his body was on fire. He was aching, his
cock so hard and Dean's strokes just made it worse, he wanted.
"Okay," Dean blew out a quick puff of air. "Okay," he repeated to steady
himself and pulled his fingers free. He fell to Sam's side, snatching at the
bottle of lube and squirting cool liquid into his palm and dragging it over his
hard length. "Face the wall, back to me," Dean moaned softly, sliding further
up the bed to better line himself up.
Sam shifted so he was pressed back against his brother's chest; lifting a long
arm he threaded his fingers through his brother's hair glancing back over his
shoulder as his hips circled impatiently. "Want you," he said.
"Want you," Dean echoed and grasped his flesh, shifting forward to get the best
angle. He leaned forward to brush his lips along Sam's cheek, down his neck,
blowing out a very low and heavy breath as the crown of his cock pressed
against burning heat. "I'll go slow," he insisted as he broke the barrier and
instantly got sucked in a few centimeters. "So tight," he murmured softly,
panting sharply as he continued his gentle slide forward.
Sam's hand slapped against the wall, his palm flat and he moaned loudly. "God,"
Sam pushed back off the wall, taking more of his brother's cock in him. He knew
Dean was holding back, could feel his brother's muscles shuddering against his
back. "Gonna, touch myself..." Sam whispered, leaning his head back against his
brother's shoulder. He ran his hand down his side over his ass, fingers
brushing against Dean's hip then down to his own cock. He rain his fingers
slowly up and down his shaft. His hips started rocking back and forth and his
felt Dean slip further inside him. It burned ever-so-slightly but it faded
quickly and Sam's body took Dean in like he was meant to be there.
Dean had never felt something so tightly and he was fairly certain he never
would. By the time he was all the way buried in Sam he thought it was a miracle
he hadn't come yet. Sam's flesh burned over every inch it pressed into him,
making his heart race so fast he was fairly certain Sam could feel it against
his back. Once he got his hips into a steady drag back and slid forward, he
curled his fingers into Sam's hipbone, tightening. Sam clenched around him
every time he slid out, as if trying to keep him in and Dean moaned his
brother's name long and hard, pace quickening as much as he could.
Sam braced his hands against the wall pushing himself back. Each time Dean
pulled out was torture and each thrust back in was so hot Sam thought he would
lose his mind. He could already feel his body coming apart. Each nerve was
firing, every muscle fluttering, his body clenching around his brother's cock.
He could feel their sweat mingling together, Dean's hand gripping his hip so
hard it would be bruised. Sam had no words left, just moans and small sighs,
almost silent keening sounds of want.
Loosing track of time and the world around them, Dean luxuriated in the feel of
sliding into his brother and dragging back out. Sam was a bundle of nerves
around him, constantly writhing and moving, the most deliciously beautiful
noises were falling from his mouth. "Christ Sam... so good," he panted into
Sam's neck, mouthing along the skin, sucking in flesh and working it under his
lips. His hand slid under Sam's arm, curling around his waist to bring him down
hard onto his cock in a quick thrust. At this pace he wasn't going to last long
but now that they'd crossed this line, he could cross it again as much as he'd
like. This thought spurred him into action again, quickening his thrust and
urging him along.
Slipping his hand off his weeping cock, Sam twined his fingers with Dean's.
"Love you..." Sam breathed letting his head fall to the side so the wet heat of
Dean's mouth could move along his long neck. He pulled Dean's hand down
wrapping both their hands around his cock and squeezing. His hands were shaking
as his slid his fingers along his rigid flesh in time with his brother's
forward thrusts. He wanted to feel Dean come inside him, fill him up; the
simple thought sent little shocks of pleasure running through Sam's body and he
could feel his orgasm swelling within him.
With a long moan Dean worked Sam's flesh beneath his hand and quickened his
thrust, the movements taking on a jerky, stuttering motion as he reached his
peak. "Love you too Sammy," he whispered and sank his teeth into the skin at
the crook of Sam's neck. Once more it felt like Dean was losing all grips on
time and the world, floating with Sam in this perfect world made just for them.
"Come for me Sam," he gasped, losing his hold. "Wanna feel you clench around
me."
Dean's voice was a low rumble against his brother's back. Sam's body trembled
and twisted, the words going straight to his hips and sending them snapping
forward. He bit down so hard on his bottom lip that the coppery taste of blood
filled his mouth. It was a slow build, an unraveling of pleasure deep inside
Sam's belly and when it flooded through his body he felt like everything slowed
down to just those few seconds. So full, his muscles clenching around his
brother's heat, his hips snapping forward hard into his hand and the almost-
painful pulsing of his cock as he shot his release over his hand, his brother's
hand. Sam's mouth opened in a soundless cry, head falling sideways onto the
pillow, fingers tightening their hold on his Dean's.
Gasping at the sudden clench of muscles around him, Dean lost all holds on his
control. He rolled Sam over in one quick motion, flattening him to the mattress
and thrust deep and hard half a dozen times before he came, working his release
out in a series of more shallow, quicker jerks. For a moment he was weak from
his release and he collapsed down onto Sam's back before he realized he was
probably squishing him. "Shit," he groaned and pulled out, flopping to the side
and tugging Sam half onto his chest. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked
softly, stroking a hand down Sam's back. "Sort of lost control there for a
minute."
Sam could barely move, let alone think, his cock was still twitching weakly
almost in time with the dull thudding of his heart. "Didn't hurt... liked it."
Sam used what felt like the last of his energy to stretch up and kiss his
brother long and hard, pushing his tongue past his brother's lips slowly so he
could savor every last sensation.
They kissed until Dean's jaw ached and he pulled back, falling hard back onto
the pillow. "Next time," he mumbled as his eyes fell closed, "we'll do it like
that." Smiling sleepily he rubbed his hand soothingly down Sam's back and let
sleep tug him under.
-=-=-=-
Now that they'd officially had sex, Sam was once more acting like he had when
this whole thing started. He rubbed at Dean almost constantly, prompting him to
take him in various places all over the house. Dean had arranged to have the
weekend off with Sam - since John was out of town - and they spent the good
majority of their time locked together. After that first time Dean was quickly
losing his holds on being gentle and the rougher he got, the more Sam seemed to
enjoy it. The days seemed to blur together, throwing off their sleeping
patterns but Dean didn't really care.
Whether because they lost track of time, or because it was so very easy to be
swept up in Sam, neither noticed the sound of John's truck pulling up out
front. Which is how their father walked into the house to find them on the
couch, lips locked. Luckily they were both mostly dressed, but Sam was
straddling Dean's hips in nothing but his boxers, his arousal clearly evident,
and Dean was only in sweats so his was pretty obvious too, even if it virtually
disappeared the minute his dad's voice boomed through the living room and he
shoved Sam quickly to the side.
"Dad I..." Dean looked around him in panic, eyes wide as he stared at Sam then
turned back to the beat red face of his father. He knew, without anything being
said, that he was in a whole shit load of trouble. He just hoped his dad could
remain level headed enough to not do anything too stupid. Like pull out a gun
or something Dean wouldn't survive.
"Shut the fuck up, Dean." John strode across the room and back-handed Sam
across his cheek so hard his youngest son fell to the floor like a ton of
bricks. "You, go to your room before I do something I'll regret." John was
disgusted, angry, ashamed and had no idea what to do with his sons, his sons,
all over each other. The image of his boys tangled together flashed in his
mind, "Sam - get the fuck up and go to your room. Now." John hissed that last
word.
Sam was still reeling from his father's slap, tasting the blood of his split
lip. He pushed up off the floor gazing over, eyes searching for Dean. He held
out his hand to his brother, feeling the tears start to well up in his eyes.
"Don't you fucking hit him!" Dean yelled though it was too late, sliding in
front of his brother protectively. He wanted to gather Sam close and check his
face for any blood, get him eyes and kiss it all better but he knew he couldn't
now. If he survived this he would later. "You fucking do that again and I will
kill you," he hissed, shoulders tensing. He wished he was wearing more clothing
so the situation wouldn't feel so uncomfortable. More then it already was.
John's lips were pressed so tight together they were almost bloodless. "Sam I
am giving you ten seconds to get down that hallway. You get your ass out of his
room now boy... GO!" More than anything John was hurt. There had been no way he
could have known something like this was going on; he'd raised Dean well, he
hadn't raised him to do ... this with his brother. God only knew what else...
Sam's tears were flowing steadily now, he'd never seen the look of hatred on
his father's face before. Never. His fingers reached out and brushed Dean's
back lightly. It was all he dared to do with his father standing there.
Reaching up to his swollen lip he wiped the blood off with the back of his
hand. "It was me, Dad, I started it. Dean would never have.."
"Sam I don't wanna hear it - I'm just gonna talk to Dean, go to your room."
John's clenched fists were shaking and he took a step closer to his sons.
Stepping back into Sam as a sort of safety barrier between John and his
brother, Dean held up one finger to the man, jaws clenched. When it looked like
John wasn't going to move, Dean turned to face Sam head on, voice low as his
hand came up to touch Sam's lip softly and wince. "Sam, please go to your room.
I'll be okay," he whispered and locked his eyes on Sam's. "No matter what
happens, I'll find you. Just stay in your room until this is over alright?" He
pleaded with Sam, wishing he could brush their lips together like he so
desperately wanted too.
Sam's shaking fingers reaching out for his brother's hand. "Dean..." he
whispered. He didn't want to leave his brother. There was no telling what was
going to happen; Sam was terrified.
"I love you," Dean whispered, so soft he wasn't even sure if his brother could
hear him, but the man was probably reading his lips enough to get it. "Please
go, it's for the best," he insisted and squeezed Sam's hand before pushing him
gently toward the back room.
Sam padded slowly down the hall, turning for a last glance at his brother
before going in to his room.
As soon as the door shut behind Sam John cocked his gun; the sound of metal on
metal was remarkably loud in the room. John's hand was steady even if his mind
was racing. All that kept running through John's mind was the image of Sam on
Dean's hips, he held the gun level with Dean's chest and waited for him to turn
around.
Staring at the hallway, Dean was trained well enough to recognize that sound
anywhere. His heart stuttered to a halt and he wondered if the last image he
was ever going to see was his brother's back. Even now all he could think was
what would happen to Sammy? Turning slowly, Dean didn't drop his eyes, didn't
back down of plead. He instead clenched his jaw and locked eyes with his dad.
"Gonna shoot me dad?" He asked steadily, surprisingly calm for the intensity of
the moment.
"Dean, you're gonna go into that bedroom and pack what you want to take, get
your wallet, your knife, whatever you need. You're going to tell Sam - tell
your brother," John's lip curled as he hissed the words, "that you're leaving.
That what you did was wrong. Then you're gonna walk out that door and I don't
ever want you contacting him again." John's eyes were stony and cold. He felt
betrayed on every level by his oldest. Dean, he'd put everything in Dean, his
trust, his love, left him taking care of Sam. Sammy.
Dean's composer wavered and he swallowed thickly. He couldn't imagine saying
those words to Sam, bile churned in his stomach even thinking about them. "What
will you do to him? He was lying before when he said... it was all me. It's all
my fault. You can't hurt him," Dean's fist clenched and his eyes shot to the
gun then to his dad's stance, trying to consider if he might be able to knock
his father out before he could take a shot.
John was well aware of every thought his son had, he'd trained Dean well.
"Don't even think about it, you think I won't shoot you after what you did? You
got for the gun I'll shoot you in the leg and call the cops. I can stay here
long enough with Sam to make sure you go to jail. You want your brother to live
with the guilt of that for the rest of his life?" John took a deep breath
steadying his voice. "Now, be smart, this is sick. Are you really gonna stand
there and tell me that you touching him like that is okay?"
"I love him," Dean said without hesitation, stomach churning unpleasantly. "I
don't care what you think on the subject and I'll get my shit and go but I'm
not moving until you promise me that Sam is going to be okay. Because you know
I'll be watching and if you do anything to hurt him I'll kill you while you
sleep." His lips thinned out and his body began to shake but he held his
ground.
A cold realization started to wash over John. "God ... you've..the full extent
of their relationship was starting to dawn on John." Bile rose in his throat.
His sons..."You listen to me you sick son-of-a-bitch. You are not in a position
to be demanding anything of me. Hurt him? You've been..." John almost gagged,
"fucking your brother and you're going to accuse me of hurting him? He's
sixteen years old." He could feel his blood pressure going up, blood moving
like sludge through his veins.
Dropping his gaze for the first time, Dean looked to the side, voice shaking
despite his attempts to keep it calm. "Please Dad. Just tell me he's going to
be okay," he whispered, tears pricking at his eyes at the idea of not seeing
Sam for who knows how long. Probably not until he was eighteen. Two years.
"Please."
"He's going to be fine, why do you think I'm sending you away. Sam's a kid Dean
- I can't even believe you managed to justify this to yourself. You get your
ass in there and you pack your stuff and you tell that kid in there... you tell
my son that you were wrong - that you're leaving, that you won't be back." John
shoved the gun in his pocket keeping it pointed at Dean. "Go before I change my
mind."
Dean knew that Sam wasn't going to be okay. He was going to be devastated,
crushed. And even though Dean thought he should have been worrying about
himself, what he was going to do next to make sure he survived, all he could be
worried about was Sam. Turning slowly, numb with the grief already consuming
him, Dean forced his steps forward, one after the other. He stared at the door
for a minute before turning the knob under his palm, continuing his progress
forward into the room and straight to the closet to pick up his duffel bag.
Sam pushed up off the bed, looking up at the door at his father. "Dean?" He
took a step toward his brother.
"Sam, stay where you are." John's voice was firm.
Sam's eyes flicked from his father to Dean. "Dean? What... where are you
going?" Sam started to shake. Dean couldn't leave, his father wouldn't do that
to them. Dean had looked after Sam his entire life.
Dean's shoulders tensed as he silently changed, not caring what his father
thought as he pushed off his sweats, pulled on boxers and jeans. He couldn't
break Sam's heart in just sweat pants. Once he was fully dressed, sock and
boots on, he tugged hard at his duffel bag, stuffing things blindly in. "Sam,"
he whispered when John cleared his throat. Lifting his gaze to his brother's,
he tried to speak through his eyes while the words left his lips. "I'm
leaving." I'll come back for you. "What we did was wrong." I love you. Dean
dropped his gaze and zipped up the duffel bag, heart aching so bad his chest
felt like it was moments from exploding.
Tears were welling up again in Sam's eyes and he started shaking his head.
"No... no...Dad?" Sam looked over at his father pleading with his eyes. "Don't
... don't let him go. It was my fault," Sam pushed up off the bed and stepped
over to grab Dean's arm, "don't leave me. I can change - I won't... I can't..."
Sam sobbed and clung to Dean's shirt with shaking hands.
John stiffened, his fingers curling tighter around the gun. "Dean." He needed
Dean out of there before Sam was completely out of control.
"I'm sorry," Dean whispered as quietly as he could before pulling away, forcing
himself to the dresser to gather his wallet and the stack of money he'd been
saving from work, stuffed in the top drawer. He couldn't look at Sam as he
dragged his legs forward in steady steps, not stoping until he reached the
threshold of the room, lifting his eyes to his father's. "Fuck you," he spat,
low and deep.
Sam sprang up off the bed. "Dean, no. Wait for me." Sam yanked on his duffel
bag so hard that he fell over trying to get it out from under the bed.
John moved quickly stepping out into the hallway behind Dean and jamming the
gun into his back. "Dean," he whispered, "you get your ass back in that room
and you tell Sam what you have to tell him to get him to stay or I'm turning
you in for fuckin' your little brother." He motioned toward the door. "You tell
him to stay here, you tell him you're leaving and you make him believe that you
don't want to see him again or you'll be spending the next fifteen years in
jail. How you think that'll work out for the two of you?"
Shoulders stiffening once more, Dean considered just letting his dad do it,
turn him into the cops. It would be better than making Sam believe something
that wasn't true, for saying words that burned his tongue. Fifteen years of
jail would suck but maybe Sam would get away and for sure be safe. "Sam," he
forced his mouth to move and turned, staring at his dad for a hard moment
before stepping back into the room to meet his brother's eyes. "I don't want
you to come with me," he deadpanned and his knees felt weak. "You have to stay
here. I can't..." he glanced sharply behind him before fixing his gaze on Sam
once more. "This is wrong. I'm sick. This is sick. I'm going and it's over. You
stay here where you belong." He turned his back on Sam before his brother could
see the tears streaming down his cheeks, his dad still blocked the doorway and
he stared at him, pleading with his eyes for him to just get the fuck out of
the way so he didn't have to hear Sam's reaction.
Sam felt like all the air had been sucked out of his world. His mouth was
opening and closing, his hands fell limp at his sides. He dropped his duffel
and called out after his brother, "Dean!"
John stepped across the door. "You leave your brother alone, Sam. He's decided
to do what's right." John leaned out the door and stared at Dean's trembling
shoulders. "Dean, you get out of here now. You can't use my son then leave him
like he's nothing. Get out."
Blind with tears Sam stumbled toward the door and John caught him in his arms.
"Better he leave now, Sam." John smoothed his youngest's hair, "he would have
done it sooner or later. You know that." He glared over the top of Sam's head
cradling his son's neck.
Dean barely made it outside and down the driveway before he collapsed to the
ground and threw up the meager contents of his stomach. His body shook, pain
flaring through him as Sam's words and cries echoed through his mind. He had no
idea where he was going to go, or how he was going to keep surviving without
his brother, but he knew he wouldn't let them far out of sight. It would be
hard to sneak around without John noticing his presence, he'd half to work hard
on it, but he wasn't going to lose Sam. He'd figure out a way. Eventually Dean
pushed himself up off the gravel and stumbled down the street with shaky legs.
John knew that he had very little time to take care of things and Sam was going
to be a problem. He settled Sam on the bed, leaving him sobbing quietly and
moved down the hallway to the front door, locked it and opened a small pouch in
the side of his duffel. When he moved into the kitchen he was already opening a
bottle of strong painkillers. Snatching a glass off the counter John crushed a
few of the pills and then brushed them off the counter into the glass. Pulling
the fridge door open he grabbed a can of coke, opened it and poured it into the
glass. Moving quickly back up the hallway he returned to Sam's room to find his
son right where he had left him.
"Sammy?" John dropped to a knee by his son and offered him the glass. "You need
to drink some sugar son, you're in shock." He put the glass in Sam's hands.
Sam held the glass with both hands, staring down at the bubbles traveling up
through the dark liquid. He brought the glass up to his lips and drank half of
it. "Dad?" Sam raised one hand to wipe at his eyes and try to focus. "Will Dean
come back?"
John shook his head and nudged the glass toward Sam, "drink up Sammy. Dean's
not coming back he was pretty clear about that." John watched as Sam drank the
rest of the coke then took the glass from his son and put it on the night
stand. John pushed up from his knee and moved about the room packing Sam's
clothes and books. "Put this on Sammy," he tossed a sweatshirt at Sam and
glanced back occasionally to see if Sam was getting into it. His sons movements
were already slowing down. "Stay here Sam."
John grabbed Sam's wallet and threw it in his duffel, zipped it up and threw
Sam's jacket over the top. Slinging the bag over his shoulder he moved down the
hallway and picked up his bag again, unlocked the door and loaded them into the
car. He was back at Sam's side in less than ten minutes and helping to pull
Sam's boots on. His sons eyes were already closing. John lifted Sam, got him up
on his feet and walked him down the hall then pushing him gently him into the
back seat of the car. Settling Sam with a blanket over him John locked the door
and walked around to slide into the driver seat. He needed to stop for coffee.
They had a lot of miles to cover before he would even consider stopping. The
engine roared to life and he pulled away from the curb slowly.
Dean hadn't wanted to go to far from the house, just to be safe, and it turned
out his hunch was right. It didn't stop him from jumping up though in panic as
the familiar roar of the engine, his car, headed his way. He would have jumped
out in front of the car if he knew without a doubt that his dad wouldn't just
run him over. "No!" He screamed as the car sped past him and he caught just the
slightest glimpse of what could have been Sam, what probably was. Dean took off
down the road after the car, screaming, tears burning down his cheeks but his
dad didn't let up and he fell back into the shadows.
Collapsing down hard onto asphalt, a sob tore from his chest as headlights
disappeared around a corner up ahead. Now Dean was stuck in this city with no
vehicle, no way of knowing where John was taking the only person he'd ever
loved. Would ever love. For the first time in his life Dean was alone, he had
no one, and his heart ached so bad his body shook.
Dean stayed crumbled in the middle of the road until the sun began to rise.
Soft hiccups were the only noises falling from him, no tears left. Eventually
he managed to push himself up, stumbling back down several miles of road until
he found his duffel bag. Tossing it over his shoulder, he walked the rest of
the way back to the house. Their house and picked the lock.
It was like a ghost house, like the memory of Sam and he together had soaked
into the walls and surged forth now to cover him. A fresh round of tears
streamed down his cheeks as he walked through the house, trailing his fingers
along the counter he spread Sam over just that morning, over the couch where
everything changed, and then he stopped inside the bedroom. Sam's blankets were
still ruffled, as were Dean's but it was in Sam's bed that he fell, burying
himself in the sheets and pulling comfort in from the familiar smell still
lingering on the sheets.
***** Chapter 3 *****
It took weeks for Dean to summon up the strength to leave the house. By then
all lingering scents of his brother were gone, even from the t-shirt that he'd
found stuffed under the bed when - in a fit of rage - he turned the entire bed
frame upside down. Dean went through varying stages of anger and upset.
Sometimes he was so miserable he could hardly drag himself through the house.
Other times he was so angry he punched holes in the walls, broke his hand in
the process, the pain tied him down though.
By the time he did leave the house was so badly destroyed John would never be
able to use that fake name to rent a place again. It was a small and very
bitter victory. Dean's brain kicked a little more into gear once he left the
haunted house - figuratively of course - he could see things from a different
view point. Dean stared at the truck in the driveway for awhile, considering
breaking in and jumping the vehicle. But all he could think about was years of
memories, of his dad buying the truck once Dean was old enough to drive just so
Dean could take the Impala.
Walking away from the house and the truck was easier then he thought it should
have been. But he told himself he was walking toward Sam. As it turned out,
that was much easier said than done. Everything Dean had learned about hunting,
he learned from his father. Which ultimately meant his father was better and
Dean was always going to be ten steps behind. Dean didn't have nearly the
amount of contacts that John did, nor did he have the resources.
Dean had a fair amount of money saved up but not nearly enough for everything
he wanted to do to try and track down Sam. So at some point he had to admit
defeat and get himself a job. For whatever the reason he settled himself into a
town in the middle of Louisiana and worked. Any down time he had he spent
searching for his brother electronically. Or searching for his dad. The man
seemed to have the wisdom to get all knew fake names, none that Dean could
guess. Search after search turned up nothing.
For awhile Dean considered hunting again but the first time he tried he nearly
got himself killed, too trapped down memory lane, thinking of the time he and
Sam had taken care of a body in a salt and burn and how proud John had been
after the fact, awarding them with ice cream from Diary Queen. Sam had been so
happy. It stung his heart and Dean decided he wasn't meant for this hunter life
any more. The only thing he'd hunt now was his brother, but not to kill, to
explain to him that it had all been a life, something he was forced to say at
gun point.
Dean hadn't really acknowledged the time passing, and might not have even
noticed if it wasn't for someone making a comment about the date. May second.
Sam's birthday. He couldn't believe he's almost forgotten. Or maybe he had just
been pretending he didn't notice.
This was how Dean began to live his life. All the way to Sam's eighteenth
birthday he stayed in Louisiana, constantly searching for signs, hacking into
computer databases in state after state for anything. When Sam turned eighteen
Dean had this flicker of hope that his brother might try to find him. Surely
his life couldn't have been that great over the past two years - it probably
was like hell - and maybe Sam would search him out.
Mechanic work passed the time but Dean was started to get bored. By the time
Sam turned nineteen Dean reached the conclusion that he was likely to lose his
mind if he continued working on cars and trying to make friendly conversation
with men he had nothing in common with. This is how Dean decided to use his
hunting training for something other than hunting. If there was one thing Dean
knew really well, outside his brother and the constant pursuit for him, it was
mythical beings.
Because of the years - fucking years - pouring through computer information in
search, Dean had gained quite a number of useful skills. For instance how to
make himself a completely new and unique identity. He kept his name as Dean but
changed the last to Smith. Something commonplace and normal, something that
wouldn't draw attention to himself. One fake diploma later and he was set.
The job was one in desperate need to be filled, since the current teacher was
beginning to show the wear from the more then a dozen classes she was
attempting to teach. The dean looked thrilled with Dean's supposed experience
and, since it was just a local university, he was satisfied with one quick
reference check. Dean had a pretty decent accent when he wanted to fool
someone.
By the time Sam turned twenty Dean had really settled into his life as a
teacher. It filled that time when he wasn't looking for Sam nicely. None of the
students looked at him with judging eyes, he didn't have to attempt to be
someone else because he was a teacher and they weren't supposed to know
personal things about him. Plus, working in a college meant he rarely if ever
had to deal with co workers. Occasionally at a staff meeting but otherwise he
was free to simply be him.
Sam's twenty second and twenty third birthday passed mostly without event. Dean
continued to teach, gaining some sort of reputation among the students so his
classes were mostly always full. Every other moment was spent hunched over the
computer, or making phone calls, or doing anything that might turn up one
little shred of a clue. By this point, he would have given anything just to
even know his brother was alive. But there was nothing. Not a scrap and
sometimes Dean wondered how he kept going, why he didn't give up.
Then - inevitably - his hand would settle on the amulet around his neck that he
never took off, or the worn thin shirt he'd still saved from all those years
ago tucked in his bottom drawer and he'd remember. Sam was it for him, would
always be. Even on the handful of times he tried to have a random hook up with
someone, he ended up sending them away before anything even happened. He
couldn't even remember the taste of his brother but late at night he pretended
he could, when he dreamed of them together like he did so often.
Around Sam's twenty fourth year Dean took up jogging. It seemed like a random
thing to do but it made Dean feel a little more alive. Plus it meant one extra
hour he didn't spend hunched in front of his computer so there was the
possibility his eyes burned less. Plus, Dean was beginning to feel his age. He
was closer to thirty then he liked to fathom and sometimes he had moments where
he could hardly believe how many years had passed since the last time he felt
genuinely happy and loved.
During Sam's twenty fifth year Dean took on a bigger work load. He wasn't the
best at school when he was in it but that had less to do with his brain and
more to do with the world he was living in. The teacher who had previously
taught his mythology class officially resigned. Dean couldn't do the English
stuff but he didn't mind taking on some of the folklore and fantasy, and even a
creative writing class just to shake things up. It made him feel a little more
like he had purpose, like maybe - even though he'd failed in finding his
brother for so long - he wasn't completely useless.
Everything changed the year Sam was twenty six, the year Dean was thirty, ten
fucking years after his heart was ripped out of his chest and run over by the
fucking Impala in the middle of the road. It was an average day, the fourth
Tuesday in the new semester, and Dean had started off his day with his usual
jog. He'd taught his class at nine, picked up a cup of coffee at the Java Joint
after, taught his class at eleven and was back in his office for lunch at one.
Which was where he was when the knock at his door echoed through the office. It
wasn't his office hours but Dean wasn't one of those professors with a stick up
his ass about office hours. He held the student's paper in front of his face,
glancing up at the door and calling, "Come in," before dropping his eyes again
to scan the paper on the myth surrounding creatures like Big Foots and Yetis.
Sam pushed the door open and poked his head around the door and noticed the man
behind the desk had his head down over his paper. "Pro...fessor? Am I
interrupting something?" He stepped into the room looking around. There was the
strangest collection of drawings, statues, and what looked like archaeological
artifacts. "I'm Sam Winchester, I was given your name as a possible
consultant."
For a moment it was a little like his world had been flipped completely upside
down, shoved off its axis so swiftly he nearly tipped back and out of his
chair. Overcompensating for his tilt back, Dean flipped up, instantly standing,
hand slamming down onto the table as his eyes fixed on the man at the door. And
fuck was he a man. Tall, a good five inches taller than him, broad chest barely
defined under his plaid button down. Hair long, hanging down around his
shoulders, tucked behind his ears. It was all too much to take in and very much
not enough. "S-Sam," he stuttered on the name, stepping back in shock, eyes
wide and fluttering in time with the race of his heart in his chest.
Sam was perhaps given the grace of about five seconds before he realized who
was standing in front of him. He stepped back, a hand moving up to his mouth
then settling across his chin. Dean hadn't changed all that much. He was older,
of course, but wore the years well. He was firmer, more muscular than when Sam
had last seen him. His hair was longer, a little darker, softer against his
face. The green eyes he would have recognized anywhere. "I ... I didn't know it
was you..." Sam took another step back toward the door. Ten years and not a
word; Sam didn't have anything to say anymore.
"You're not..." Dean shook his head, tugging at his tie to try and relieve some
of the pressure around his neck. "This is a dream. God I've had this dream so
many times. I'm asleep. You're not real," despite his words Dean walked around
the desk, toward his brother, hand extending for a moment before dropping. As
his eyes locked with the man's he could practically feel the cold edge to them.
Sam stared at Dean for a few more moments then looked down and pulled his car
keys out. "I'll find someone else to help me." He turned and pulled Dean's
office door open and strode out into the hallway feeling his stomach flip and
clench with each step.
"Wait," Dean called, running out of the room and easily catching up with Sam.
This time he closed the distance, curling his hand around Sam's arm and pulling
him to a stop. "You can't just leave!" He said the words a little louder then
he should and looked around, dropping his gaze before stepping closer and
lowering his voice. "Sam please, it's been ten years. Don't just leave without
talking to me." Dean was fairly certain he would have dropped to his knees and
vice gripped Sam's legs if he had to. The idea of letting him go again was an
impossible one to fathom.
"Can't just leave?" Sam's eyes hardened as he stared down at his brother. "Like
you did? Get your hand off me." Sam's teeth were clenched, a muscle twitching
in his jaw. "I have nothing to say to you." Sam yanked his arm out of Dean's
grip and started walking. He just wanted to get to his car and get as far away
from this place as he could.
Dean's heart stung from the words as if Sam had shoved his hand into his chest
and physically squeezed the life out of him. But he followed, not yet willing
to let him go. "Sam, I had no choice but to leave. There was a fucking gun to
my back and it was either go or get a bullet in my leg and at least fifteen
years in prison," he tried to keep the words low as they exited the building
and Dean continued to follow his brother toward the parking lot. "God Sam, at
least hear me out. After all this time do you really think that's what I..." he
swallowed thickly and shook his head.
Sam whirled on the other man. "You think Dad hasn't told me everything? You
think I don't know about the times he called you, left messages, told you where
we were? He told me you threatened him on the phone Dean. He said you would
tell me that he made you leave because you knew how important Dad and I were to
each other. He's told me everything." Sam jabbed a finger at the center of
Dean's chest, "you ... used me and you left. Ten years I've been doing just
fine without you. That's not gonna change now."
Reeling back in disbelieve, Dean jerked his head from one side to the other,
head actually dizzy from the shock. "That lying piece of mother fucking shit,"
he spat and stepped back from Sam, clenching his jaw. "I can't believe you
fucking believe him after the way he treated you that night. And to think I've
spent the past ten years of my life searching for you every spare moment I had,
not ever touching anyone else because I'm still so fucking in love with you and
you believed him." Dean blew out an angry breath. "Did the cell phone numbers
change Sam? Did you happen to notice that he used different fake IDs then he
used to? I spent my whole life loving you, doing everything for you and you
believed that asshole who had to make me go by-" Dean cut off abruptly, sucking
in a shaky breath and turning to the side, wiping angrily at the tears that had
spilled from his eyes.
Taking a short step back Sam blinked a few times then ran a hand through his
hair. He had loved Dean and then spent ten years learning to live without him.
Their Dad ... he'd been everything Sam had. "You... you didn't come back." Sam
turned and pushed the door open, jogging down the front stairs of the building
and then breaking into a flat out run until he got to the car.
Dean bolted after him without hesitation, suddenly surprisingly grateful for
his morning jogs. He came to a quick halt in the parking lot as his eyes
settled on the familiar Impala, distant like a dream. To say today officially
turned his world upside down was an understatement. Pursing his lips together
he walked slowly to the driver's side and knelt, peering through the glass at
his brother's profile. "I never could find you," Dean said loud enough for him
to hear, reaching out to lay a hand on the warm metal. "I never stopped looking
Sam."
Leaning down Sam grabbed the small handle and rolled the window down. Dragging
his hand down his face, Sam kept his eyes forward. "I'm not the same innocent
kid you left there." There was nothing the same about Sam. That sixteen year
old, with all his dreams and trust was long gone.
"I'm not the same snarky twenty year old who teased you all the time," Dean
said softly, clinging to the little burst of hope. "Please Sam. At least... get
coffee with me. Or have dinner. Something. I've been waiting so long and I
just..." he eyes flicked across Sam's profile, looking for any traces that he
might feel anything for Dean any more. It didn't seem like it. "I miss you. So
much. Please?" He curled his hand around the door, looking down when his eyes
watered.
Sam reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Give me your phone number.
I'll call you before I leave town." He wasn't sure if he had any intention of
calling Dean but he had to do something so he could get away and think. Call
Dad.
Dean recited his number and reached into his pocket, curling his fingers around
his phone. "I don't suppose I can get yours?" He asked, voice hopeful and only
slightly shaking.
"I'll call you." Sam reached down and started the engine, feeling a little
relief when it roared to life. He glanced out the window, catching his
brother's eyes. "I'm here for a few more days. I'll be in touch." He waited for
Dean to move.
Pushing up from the car and stepping back, Dean's heart sank. After so many
years he'd never thought that Sam would actually have thrown away all the
feelings they'd shared just because their dad - who had smacked Sam so heard he
bled - told him some lies. Now he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd probably
never hear from his brother again. He turned and walked away before he could
watch the car back away, letting his head fall down. He'd seen that Impala
disappear enough times to last him forever. Ten years of searching and it
turned out his brother never even wanted to be found. Dean suddenly had
absolutely no idea what to do with himself now.
-=-=-=-
When Dean got home from the campus his mind was still fuzzy and blurring around
the edges. On any other day he would walk straight for the computer and see if
whatever search he'd started that morning had turned up anything. This time he
knows it won't matter. Still, he sets his bags on the chair by the table, grabs
a beer from the fridge, and falls heavy into the computer chair. As expected,
the box on the screen is flashing a simple No Search Results Found and Dean
stared at it for awhile, considering the implications.
Even though it didn't matter now, Dean took a snapshot of the screen and sent
it to the printer. It was his habit, taking the page and writing the date at
the bottom, along with the city and state. He filed it away in the box he
always used, filled to the brim with documents all without any shred of useful
information. The part of Dean that was in more angry then he could handle was
tempted to throw the box in the dumpster. But Dean couldn't do that, it would
be like throwing away ten years of hope.
Instead he slid up to the computer and searched his town. Obviously whatever ID
Sam was using wasn't one Dean was familiar with. He checked the motels in the
town that Sam was likely to be staying at and there was a real possibility Sam
was one of those people checked in but Dean knew that calling him wasn't going
to help matters. The only thing he had left to do now was wait. Sit back and
pray that Sam called.
Work the next day was awful. Dean was distracted in a bad way. Even his
students noticed and he ended all his classes early and canceled the last one.
He told himself if he could just finish the weak then he would have the whole
weekend to try and make things better. Or at least to get himself into the
thinking that Sam was not interested in ever being with him again. Dean had no
idea what he would then. He'd been holding out for Sam for a decade, Dean
didn't think he was going to be able to let that go so easily. If at all.
-=-=-=-
He didn't care enough to find me. That was what Sam had spent ten years
convincing himself of. Ten years. That night, the night the end began was a
blur to Sam. He remembered his Father coming home to find them together. He
absolutely remembered the feel of Dean beneath him, the slightest tingles of
what was to come as he rocked forward against his brother's body for a kiss.
The chaos of Dean pushing him away as their father came through the door, the
hand connecting with his face and Dean leaving. Dean left. Those words had
stayed with Sam every moment of every day for the first few weeks. I'm going
and it's over. He left Sam and it was their Father who took care of him, picked
up the pieces left of Sam and put him back together. John was more gentle with
Sam than he had ever been; it was unusual at first and them Sam just settled to
it. John was his family, his father.
It's sick. The words that rattled around in Sam's head for months. He wondered
whether Dean had thought that all the time, whether he had just caved to Sam's
incessant pressure and never wanted more. Their Father said that Dean had come
to realize it was wrong and left before he made things worse - maybe, John had
said, the only good decision that Dean had made regarding his younger brother.
Sam had spent so much time trying to figure it out, but then, as it's want to
do, the past started to fade. The memories of his brother became less painful,
something to be avoided rather than felt. He moved on. More accurately, pieces
of Sam moved on. Something in him had broken that night, when Dean walked away
from him. It was the last time he put himself on the line when it came to
relationships. Truth be told it was his last relationship. There were men and
women, night of rough sex and uncomfortable mornings when he couldn't remember
peoples' names. He just didn't care.
Ten years and Dean was right in front of him, looking like he'd had a wonderful
life. He had a job, looked healthy, seemed to have found a place to fit in and
live his life. Sam stood in front of his brother with his scar covered body,
his old clothes, his head full of memories of hunts. Now Dean was the person
with all the education that Sam was supposed to consult with on his job. It
stung.
Back in his motel room Sam kicked off his boots and moved about putting things
in their place. His life was very ordered. It was how he kept from thinking, if
his hands were busy and his mind occupied he could stay one step ahead of the
memories. The flashes fought their way through sometimes, the feel of a hip
beneath his fingers, the way his name sounded when said by him, the heated
feeling of trying to recapture his senses after... Sam shook his head and
slammed his duffel against the wall. Yanking his phone out of his pocket he
scrolled down to Dean's number in his contacts, finger hovering over delete.
After a few long moments, he put the phone down, stripped and went to bed.
In the morning Sam had about twenty seconds of peace before the day before came
crashing back down onto him. His life was reduced to that now, seconds of peace
here and there. Sighing he rolled over and started his day. His feet might have
felt like led, his eyes sore and strained but he still had a job to do.
Practiced distance got him through most of the morning, indifference the
afternoon and Jack Daniels was his date for the evening. By seven that evening
more than twenty-four hours since his brother had been standing there in front
of him Sam was pretty drunk. Not, unfortunately, drunk enough to be unable to
work his phone.
Sam W.: Room 204, Town Center Inn. Do what you think you need to.
Sam smirked to himself as he tossed the phone on the bed beside him and threw
back the rest of his drink. He fumbled on the night stand for the pack of
cigarettes he had bought earlier and tore the pack open. He pulled one out and
pushed his hips up off the bed so he could get his zippo out of his front
pocket and light it. Sam only smoked when he drank, maybe he drank sometimes as
an excuse to smoke. He wasn't even sure anymore; but then, what difference did
it make. It didn't matter why you did something, it simply mattered that you
did or didn't do it. He smiled, thinking he might remind Dean of that later. A
deep drag off the cigarette gave him a bit of a head rush, the only advantage
of not smoking regularly. He stared at the door. Waiting.
It had only taken moments for Dean's feet to kick start into gear the minute he
received the text. He jumped into his car without a moment’s hesitation,
peeling out of the apartment complex and to the motel that was on the opposite
side of town. For awhile, once he'd pulled up into the spot beside the Impala,
Dean stared at the door and wondered if this was the smartest decision. He had
no idea what was going on through Sam's mind, what his reasoning was behind
inviting Dean over, but he needed a chance to prove himself to Sam and he'd
take what he could get.
So he forced himself out of his car and up to the door, pulling in a shaky
breath before wrapping his fists on the hard wooden surface and stepping back.
Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet nervously,
wondering if Sam was going to punch him the minute the door open.
Sam closed his eyes when the knock broke the silence in the room. Sliding to
the edge of the bed he topped up his glass and sniffed, ran a hand through his
hair, stood and walked over to the door. Flicking the deadbolt back he pulled
the door open wide and turned back to the room without sparing a glance at
Dean. Sitting back down on the edge of his bed he swirled the golden brown
liquid around in the tumbler.
"Okay..." Dean said softly and stepped into the room, closing the door behind
him and walking slowly toward the table, glancing around the room. The bottle
of Jack on the table was practically empty and he frowned, wondering if he was
here simply as the result of a drunk text message. Sam didn't want him here at
all. "Sam?" He asked softly, turning toward him soft eyes, trying to read his
posture even though this Sam was basically foreign to him.
"Yeah." Sam had no intention of making this easy for Dean, whatever this was.
He knew he shouldn't have contacted him, should have followed his first
instinct to slide behind the wheel of the car and head straight out of town.
Whenever there was trouble Sam drove until the sun fell down over the horizon
behind him. Keep moving.
Dean stepped forward, determining if Sam was going to bolt the closer he came
to him. Taking a leap of faith that Sam wasn't going to kill him - at least
without giving him a fighting chance - Dean sat on the edge of the bed beside
him, far enough away that no part of them touched but close enough that Dean
could catch a whiff of his smell. The strong stench of alcohol, the faint musk
of sweat, and barely under the surface, a wisp of something that he could
almost remember. "I'm sorry you thought I never... because I did. I always
have..." he stared hard at Sam's profile, willing him to believe.
Sam downed the rest of his drink and put the glass on the night stand very
deliberately. "What do you want?" That was all Sam wanted to know, what Dean
expected after ten years. A simple question.
That was a remarkably easy question to answer and he shrugged softly, rubbing
at the back of his neck, "What I've never stopped wanting. To be part of your
life." His heart thudded dully in his chest and he dropped his gaze.
"That's not gonna happen, so..." Sam pushed up off the bed and stared down at
his brother, "does that mean we're done talkin'?" His body was aching for
something he couldn't even begin to sort out and he was furious with ... this
man for shaking up what little solidity Sam had managed to build up in his
life.
Dean's heart shattered, though he thought he'd felt every type of pain out
there. "Oh," he whispered and stared down at his hands, blinking and watching
the tears drip heavy down across his flesh. "What am I supposed to do now? I've
spent ten years looking for you and I always thought you'd take me back, that
you would have known I never meant any of those things, that I didn't have a
choice..." he looked up at Sam and pushed off the bed, curling his fingers into
a fist. "Why the hell did you text me Sam? Did you feel the need to make me
suffer more? Because ten years of solitude wasn't enough?"
"Yes." Sam's hand connected hard with Dean's shoulder knocking him back down
onto the bed. Hunter's reflexes had him on the bed in seconds, kneeling hard
across his brother's thighs with one leg, lip curled, arm pressed across the
base of Dean's throat. "Yes, I wanted you to suffer." Sam was shaking, his
breath only managing to squeeze into his lungs in small gasps. "Do you think
that you're the only one who's had a rough time baby?" He whined out the last
word.
Struggling under Sam's weight, Dean sucked in a sharp breath, tears picking up
speed. "Get off me," he hissed, trying to shove at him but he was no match for
the strength his little brother now had. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Dean had been saving himself for ten years for Sam but not in this way, not
while Sam was looking at him like he was all those things John had told him he
was. Sick. "I can't do this Sam. Please, I'll go, whatever you want but
don't..." he shook his head roughly and turned his face away.
"Don't what?" Sam tilted his head staring down at the tears that were marking
his brother's cheeks.
"Touch me like this," Dean whispered, forcing himself to look at Sam's
features. "I've been waiting for you Sam. I haven't been with anyone for ten
years. And I can't stand the thought of you touching me with that look in your
eyes. That... hatred." He bit down on his lip and pulled in a shaky breath.
"Jesus if you're gonna do anything you might as well fucking kill me because I
don't think I can take this anymore."
Sam eased up a little on Dean's neck, "what were you expecting? You fuck me,
you tell me it was sick - that you don't want..." he cleared his throat, "you
leave. And what? You were expecting a hug and a kiss when you got here? Want to
catch up, have some coffee? You asked me to go for fucking coffee with you -
you son-of-a-bitch. Ten years - and you want to go for coffee." Sam clenched
his fist and pulled his arm back slightly then pushed up off the bed quickly,
grabbed the cigarettes and moved away. With a shaking hand he lit another smoke
and leaned against the door, one foot up on the wood behind him.
"God damnit," Dean pushed roughly off the bed and clenched his fist. "I fucking
told you I was forced. John had a fucking gun to my back Sam. He could have
killed me right in front of you! He made me say those fucking things I never
would have otherwise because they're not true. They have never been true. I get
that you've had it pretty bad the last ten years Sam and I'm sorry but you're
not the only one who's in pain," he stepped toward Sam, swiping angrily at his
cheeks. "I can prove it to you if you want, that I've been searching for you
this whole time. You fucking call up your father and demand the truth."
Sam took a long drag on the cigarette to buy himself a few moments. "He's your
father too." Sam shifted slightly watching the grey and black ash build up on
the end of his cigarette. The feel of Dean's hands tangled in his hair, tugging
his head back to suck his flesh into his mouth Sam let his head fall back
against the door with a hollow thud. "Okay... so say... our father took some
liberties when describing what happened. How does that change anything? Does it
change that you were twenty years old and you...." Sam pushed off the door and
kicked the chair out from the table dropping down on it then tapping his
cigarette on the glass ashtray in the middle of the table. "It was wrong...what
we did. Wrong. We're lucky Dad didn't kill us both; he was a good man that
night. He..." Sam looked up at his brother. "He took care of me Dean. Do you
want to know what happened? That night? The night after?"
Of all the things Sam could have said, hearing him say this was wrong, that
love he'd been clinging to for ten years was wrong, worked to stop Dean's
heart. He stumbled forward with a gasp of pain, hand falling down hard on the
wall. "God you're fucking killing me," he breathed and shook his head, trying
to stop the sob from coursing through him but failing. It shook his shoulders
and spat the next words around wrenched cries, "He's not my father. Don't call
him that. He is nothing to me. I have to go. I have to get out of here," he
stumbled toward the door, blindly fumbling for the door knob.
Tossing the cigarette in the ashtray Sam was on his brother quickly. He pressed
his body against Dean's back, one hand flat against the door high above Dean's
head. Leaning in he pushed his nose through Dean's hair breathing in the
painfully familiar scent, his free hand slipped under his brother's shirt and
he dragged his calloused palm across Dean's smooth belly. "You go now," he
whispered, "and I'll be gone - that will be it."
Dean choked on his sob, pressing back into Sam's body almost on instinct. He
was bigger now, covering Dean like a blanket weighing down on his body. His
hand was so much rougher on his skin that it used to be and Dean forced himself
to turn against Sam's chest, shoving him roughly until he could meet Sam's
eyes. "You don't want this," he dead panned, heart shutting down from being too
broken, too shattered. "You said it yourself. You don't want me. Go back to
your father and let him take care of you, let me go deal with my sick and wrong
feelings alone."
Using his body weight to hold Dean against the door, Sam leaned in and ran his
cheek across Deans, dragging his lips down the shorter man's neck. He smelled
the same, tasted the same, desire flooded through Sam's body. Jamming his thigh
between his brother's legs, Sam's hands pushed roughly at his brother's t-
shirt, rolling, dragging it up to his chest so his hands could roam over the
man's body. His teeth moved along Dean's collar bone, biting down hard as he
lifted his thigh up hard against Dean's crotch. Tearing his mouth away he spoke
against his brother's ear, "you don't want this?"
Gasping in surprised pleasure, Dean could resist rocking forward another sharp
jolt of heat. "Fuck Sam of course I want it," he let his hands curl in Sam's
side, head falling hard back into the door. His skin burned from Sam's teeth
and he was almost instantly hard, words trailing off with a moan. "You don't."
Sam wide hand, long fingers splayed, slid down over Dean's belly, over his belt
buckle and slipped down the squeeze his hard-on. Sam's other hand slid down off
the door and grabbed Dean by the back of the neck. He stepped back, tugging
Dean forward and walking backwards toward the bed. His fingers loosened on his
brother's neck, coaxing rather than pulling. "You can leave if you want," he
forced a quieter tone to his voice, less edge. Give him a chance, let him go.
Sam moved his fingers up to the soft curls at the nape of Dean's neck. Closing
his eyes he dipped his head and let his forehead rest against his brother's,
fingers still working gently in those curls.
There was a pretty good possibility that the moment this was over Sam was going
to walk out that door and Dean was going to be left a broken, shattered shell
of himself. He was pretty much that already. And once it happened that would be
it for Dean, he wouldn't have the strength to go on any more. So he gave in to
the need for one last swell of feeling. Even if his brother was doing it out of
pity or for some twisted form of revenge, Dean didn't care anymore. "Not
leaving," he whispered, shoulders shaking as he stepped into Sam, trying to
find that part of his brother that had once loved him, searching for that
feeling in the gentle fingers along his neck.
Sam backed up until his calves hit the bed and he dropped down letting his
hands drag down Dean's chest until they found his belt buckle. He flipped the
belt loose keeping his eyes fixed on Dean's, watching every movement the man
made. "Take your shirt off," he growled as he undid the button, the zipper and
slid his hands inside the man's jeans. shoving the material back he pushed
down, feeling Dean's hips move with the pressure, and he tugged the jeans down.
"Get those off too…" Sam blinked, staring up at those green eyes. He had loved,
did love, Dean so much.
Dean was fully aware of the fact that he was not in charge of this situation.
Sam had all the power and Dean was okay with that even though the cold gaze
reflected in Sam's eyes stung like blows to his heart. Pursing his lips, Dean
curled his fingers around the hem of his shirt and pulled it up slowly, tossing
it to the side. He didn't look away as he toed off his shoes and kicked them to
the sides, pushing down the denim and stepping out. "These too?" He asked in a
whisper, hooking his thumbs in his boxers.
Sam nodded and grabbed the bottom of his own shirt pulling it up over his head
in one quick movement. He leaned back on his hands to watch Dean as he stepped
out of his boxers. It was different, being the stronger one - the one with the
upper hand. It was a more familiar place for Sam now. More comfortable.
Letting his eyes slid over Sam's chest he hissed softly, hand reaching out to
flutter along the scarred skin. "Jesus Sammy..." he whispered, tracing all the
grooves and pale white lines that were so unfamiliar and seemed only fitting on
his brother now, right along with his attitude. Broken and battered. And it was
all Dean's fault. He bit down on his lip and dropped his hand, turning his head
to the side.
Snapping his arm out quickly he caught Dean's wrist and pulled him forward to
stand between his own denim-clad legs. Sam rested his cheek against Dean's
stomach in a rare moment of tenderness. He remembered this so strongly he could
taste his brother's skin already; the flavor was in his soul right along with
the sound of the heartbeat he could hear so distantly.
Heart clenching painfully, Dean slid his hand up to cup Sam's head, stroking
down slowly. "Sammy..." he whispered, wondering if he was tapping into some
part of Sam that had been closed off until now.
Shifting his weight quickly he spun Dean and threw him down on the bed beside
him leaning down to slide his leg over his brother's pinning him there. Teeth
grating down Dean's shoulder Sam grabbed hold of his brother's cock, stiff and
hot, and slid his rough palm over it a few times. He mouthed his way down
Dean's arm, across his chest and caught a nipple between his teeth. Rolling the
sensitive nub of flesh back and forth Sam flicked his tongue over it as his
fingers tightened on his brother's shaft.
"Fuck," Dean gasped in pleasure, body arching up into Sam's sudden touched. He
forgot how good it felt to be touched, and Sam's palm was so much large on him
now, so much rougher. The strokes were quick and fast and not at all tentative
like they once had been so many years ago. Dean curled his fingers into Sam's
shoulder, body shifting restlessly beneath his, rolling up for more touch. Dean
slid his hand down the firm line of Sam's chest, over slightly raised flesh,
before curling around his jeans and tugging.
"Don't," Sam mumbled against Dean's chest as he brushed his brother's hand
away. Dragging his tongue along his brother's ribs Sam pulled back and stood.
"Get comfortable," he flicked the button on his pants open, grimacing as he
eased the pressure on his own swollen shaft. He padded over to the ashtray and
butted out the still smoldering cigarette and then reached out to lock the
door. "Don't want to be disturbed," he said as he walked over to the night
stand. A bottle of lube appeared in his hand after he yanked open the drawer
and he sat back down on the bed.
Watching his brother's hand curl around the bottle of lube, Dean felt his
breath catch in his throat. He had a hunch where this was headed and his
muscles tensed. Shifting on the bed slightly to sit up, he watched Sam's
movements, wetting his lips with a slow drag of his tongue. "So... you're going
to..." he asked quietly, dropping his gaze.
"You used to finish more of your sentences." Sam shoved his jeans down a little
and settled back on the bed beside Dean running a hand down the middle of his
brother's chest. "I'm going to ... what?" Sam's face was blank as he tried to
make this like every other time there'd been a guy in his room. It was proving
harder than he thought; much harder.
"Never mind," Dean shook his head and settled back. He would take whatever it
was that Sam wanted to give him. He was being given the chance to have
something that meant more to him than anything else. Being with his brother,
the man he loved, the only person he ever would. He shifted closer to Sam,
watching his face flatten out to nothing. "I don't suppose you'll kiss me?" He
whispered, wetting his lips and trying to keep his eyes from locking on Sam's
lips.
Sam's lip twitched. "No, I don't suppose I will. Is that a problem?" Sam's
fingers moved through the rough curls at the base of his brother's cock, "I
..." he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment fighting back the words that came
naturally for all those years, "I won't stop you if you want to go." His eyes
softened for a moment as he looked down at Dean. His brother looked almost more
sad now, like he was losing something he'd thought he couldn't lose again.
Looking away when his heart did that familiar clenching in ache, Dean
whispered, "Not leaving." He clung to the words, forcing himself to listen to
them even as his mind told him how utterly foolish he was being. Dean was
basically handing his brother his heart and allowing him to strangle whatever
remained of life in it. He didn't reach out to touch Sam like he wanted, he
didn't cry like he thought he might so that was something. "How should I lay?"
He asked quietly, resigning himself to this, the only way he'd ever get to have
his brother again.
"Wh..what?" Sam leaned back a little as his brother's resignation knocked the
wind out of his sails.
Looking over at him with sad eyes, Dean shrugged, "This is the only way it can
be right? We both know who's in charge here so..." he shrugged once more and
looked away, wetting his lips. "I'll do whatever it is that you want."
Something really unpleasant coursed through Sam's veins, like liquid fear. "It
doesn't have to be... like that... I mean, fuck, I'm not inhuman. I thought you
wanted..." Sam's heart was clenching tighter and tighter in his chest. This
wasn't going at all the way he wanted it to. Licking his lips he huffed out a
forced laugh, "used to a little more life in my men." He curled his hand over
Dean's hip and shook him slightly. "You gonna be here for this or just check
out?" Hurt, it was hurt that was coursing through his veins. Frozen, sharp,
painful hurt that he could do this to his brother.
Looking down at the hand on his hip, Dean blinked a few times before lifting
his eyes and staring at Sam's face. My men. Jealousy instantly flared through
him and he wondered how many there had been, what number he would be on the
list of conquests. "I'm still here aren't I?" He asked steadily, scratching
absently at his chest.
He stared down at Dean for almost a full minute, taking in the man's face. This
wasn't the brother he remembered. "I made a mistake." Sam pushed up off the bed
and pulled his jeans back up, buttoning them and leaning down to pick up his
shirt. He'd made a mistake alright, everything in his body was pushing him to
comfort this man he barely knew. He wanted to kiss him, that was the last thing
he'd said that sounded like it meant anything. "I'm..." Sam tugged his shirt
down over his head, "I'm sorry. You should probably ... you should go, I think.
You're not ... you don't want to… be with me." Sam's heart was cracking open
and he needed Dean out of there now. Moving quickly to the table he retrieved
his glass and poured himself another drink.
"What? No," Dean shook his head roughly, climbing off the bed and tugging on
his boxers just to have something covering him. He really wasn't sure how much
more his heart could take. "Please Sam, don't send me away. I want to be here.
I want this," he stepped forward, reaching out to lay his hand on Sam's arm. "I
want you. Please just... this once. I've waited so long..."
"Don't be so..." forgiving was the word that Sam bit off, "pathetic," was what
came out. "This isn't turning out to be the good time I thought it might.
Forget it." Sam threw back the rest of the liquid in his drink. "You want a
drink? You look like you could use one. Let's just sit and chat about the good
old days shall we?" It was better if this all ended tonight. Sam could talk
with Dean, make like he could be the guy's friend without thinking every second
of that broken-hearted sixteen year old still cowering in some dark corner of
his brain. Tomorrow, he could just disappear. Get on the road, find a new job,
forget this ever happened.
The last of the little holds Dean had on his sanity dripped away and he nodded
sharply, turning away and looking around for his clothes. "Fine." He snapped,
stepping roughly into his jeans. "I'd rather not drink so I'll just be getting
out of your hair. Maybe you can go pick up some random guy and have your good
time." He yanked his shirt down quickly over his head and dropped on the edge
of the bed to pull in his shoes. "You don't want to chat with me so I'm not
even gonna bother," shoving off the bed, Dean fixed his eyes on Sam and sighed.
"Not that it means anything to you, but I'll always love you. I'm sorry you
don't know that."
"Drive safely." Sam slid his empty glass into the center of the table barely
able to breathe past the emotion locked in his chest. The ache of tears was
everywhere in his body ... except his eyes. He pushed up from the chair and
grabbed his duffel, threw it on the bed and began packing up his stuff.
Dean didn't know why he thought Sam might actually say something to stop him
but the sting in his heart still shook him. Dean choked on a sob as he headed
for the door, pulling it open and stepping through, slamming it sharply behind
him. It felt like everything in his life had been snuffed out, all hopes and
drives, and Sam was right. He was pathetic. And so very alone it ached. Walking
slowly to his car he climbed into the driver’s side and fell against the
steering wheel, wondering how many minutes would pass before Sam appeared and
drove off in his Impala, once more, and this time for good.
Sam managed to get all his stuff together quickly. He'd had a lot of practice
and since the night he and his father first hit the road without Dean Sam had
learned not to get attached to things. Everything he owned now was in this room
with him. He did have the good sense to realize he was too drunk to drive and
too fucked up over his visit with Dean to even consider going out. There wasn't
going to be any comfort in finding a stranger with soft curls at the nap of his
neck and a scatter of freckles across his nose. Not this night. He pulled the
curtains and flicked the light out falling onto the bed.
***** Chapter 4 *****
When Dean woke he knew he flew out of bed, mostly out of shock because he was
in his own bed and for a few minutes he couldn't even remember how he got
there. Then the night before came back with a slap in the face and a punch in
the gut and he went through the motions on auto pilot. It was only after six so
he pulled on his sweats and tennis shoes and began jogging. He ran until his
lungs strained for hair, until sweat puddle down his body, until he was so
dizzy he practically passed out. Then he showered and tried not to think about
his brother's rough and calloused hand curling around his cock, choosing to
think about how cold his eyes had been instead to calm the want and desire.
Dean dressed in black dress pants, a white button down, dark blue tie, dark
blue sweater. The picture of a professional. Dean's eyes slid to the computer
for a moment, thinking about all the other mornings when he'd start up the
system and key in some search for his brother. That was over now. Teaching was
the only thing Dean had left now, he seriously doubted it was going to be
enough to keep him going for long but for now, it was all he had. So he headed
to his eight o'clock class and set about trying to make it look like his very
self wasn't collapsing in misery. It was nearly impossibly work.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
There was no point in Sam trying to convince himself he was waking up in the
morning. He was regaining consciousness. He had tried to sleep, tried to stuff
everything back down inside by drinking until he could barely see; when that
didn't work Sam drank until he couldn't see at all. Regaining consciousness
wasn't all that great. The first thing on Sam's agenda was to throw up what
little there was in his stomach. He couldn't remember if he'd actually eaten
anything. The second thing he did was stagger back to the bed and cry.
Sam's ten years of shoving Dean out of his mind, trying to pretend he'd never
had a brother - let alone - a brother he was in love with were shot to shit in
a few moments. Sam hadn't cried in years but then he'd cried so much the week
after his father and he and driven away from his brother that he'd thought it
wasn't even possible to cry another tear. And here he was. Broken all over
again because of Dean.
He paced the room for an hour or so, wiping the tears of his face with his
shirt sleeve, smoking the rest of his cigarettes and not even noticing when he
burned his fingers. A full ashtray and a completely empty bottle of whiskey
were his only signs of time passing. Searching around the room he found his
jacket and car keys and headed out in the late afternoon.
It wasn't difficult to find Dean at the University. Sam went straight to his
brother's office ignoring the curious gazes from student and faculty alike.
Dean's teaching schedule was posted on his door and Sam wandered around the
long polished hallways until he heard his brother's voice through the closed
door. He waited. Soon enough the students were filing out of the door, brushing
past Sam and knocking into him as he shoved his way through the tide to get
into the classroom. When he finally made it he leaned against the wall right by
the door and stared at his brother as he shoved papers around on his desk and
started to clear off his desk.
Once Dean had everything from his desk he stepped back, turning to head to his
office and halting in his steps, eyes wide. "Sam..." he whispered, staring at
him in shock. Sam shouldn't have been there. He should have been long gone. And
he certainly shouldn't have been crying. Stepping forward slowly, he judged his
brother's reaction before closing the distance and pulling Sam in for a strong
hug, arms wrapping tightly around him, "Sammy..."
Sam allowed himself a few moments of warmth and then pushed Dean back a little,
"are you done? Can we... I need to... your place?" Sam ran a shaking hand
through his hair and leaned back against the wall. Feeling Dean's arms around
him had nearly shattered the remaining hold that he had on himself.
Nodding quickly, Dean stepped to the side and headed for the door. "Just need
to leave a note that I'm canceling my office hours, come on." He glanced over
his shoulder to make sure Sam was following him as they moved through the
building to his office. He nodded a quick hello at one of his fellow teachers
but didn't stop walking even if the man had seemed interested in starting up a
conversation. He swiped at the white board on his office door and wrote a quick
note before turning to Sam. "Did you want to follow me there? I'm parking in
the side lot," he pointed down the hall in the direction of the lot. "Or we can
ride in your car, I can walk here tomorrow, or later." He hands shook slightly,
nerves building up in him.
Tugging the keys to the Impala out of his jeans Sam tossed them to Dean, "don't
wanna leave the stuff here." His voice was quiet and he kept his head down
avoiding the gazes of passing students. Shuffling closer to Dean he lowered his
voice more, "the guns."
"Okay..." Dean stared down at the keys in his hand, a little shocked. "Did you
park out here?" He pointed, watched Sam's nod and turned to lead them out of
the building. Fear built in Dean that something had snapped in his brother,
something that obviously released a tidal wave of thoughts and feelings and
this seemed pretty fucking huge. He didn't know if he was strong enough to pick
up all of Sam's pieces but if he was going to be given the chance, he was
certainly going to take it. "Sure you're okay with me driving?" He asked Sam,
lips twitching up for a moment. Sam just nodded as they approached the Impala
and he unlocked the door, leaning over to get Sam's before settling behind the
wheel. "Wow," he whispered, ghosting his fingers over the wheel. "Talk about
memory lane."
"She's all I got." It wasn't a warning, it was a simple statement of fact.
There really was so little else to Sam's life and that made the band around
this chest pull even tighter. He slid down on the passenger seat and let his
head fall back against the seat, his knee rocking back and forth as he crossed
his arms tightly across his chest.
Glancing over at Sam, Dean's lips thinned out as he slid the key into the
ignition and turned it. "I wouldn't necessarily agree with that," he said
softly even as he backed out and took them through the parking lot, heading
toward his apartment building. He wasn't really surprised by Sam's lack of an
answer though it did make his stomach clench unpleasantly. Keeping his eyes on
the road, he took them quickly through the town, pulling into his parking lot
less than ten minutes later. The minute he locked the door to the Impala he
tossed the keys toward Sam and led him toward the nearest building, up a flight
of stairs as he tugged his own keys from his pocket. Turning to look at Sam, he
said softly, "It's not much," he shrugged and unlocked the door, pushing it
open.
Sam wandered into the room and looked around. It was simple, uncluttered, not
much different than Sam's motel room when it came back down to it except for
the fact that his furniture was newer. "No mementos?" Sam waved his hand at the
blank walls.
"Never found anything worth putting up," Dean shrugged as he glanced around. "I
only have one picture and I keep it in my wallet." He kicked his shoes off and
tugged his sweater off. "I'm gonna change into something less... Professor…y,"
he gestured to his outfit and headed for the bedroom. "You can help yourself to
whatever in the kitchen."
Tugging his boots off and shoving them to the side with his foot Sam padded
into the living room and sat down on the couch. He was shivering; it was
arrogance last night that had gotten him into so much trouble. He'd thought
himself above the feelings Dean seemed so willing to war on his sleeve. His
eyes moved around the room and he noticed the blanket behind him; snatching it
off the couch he wrapped it around his shoulders as his breathing started to
speed up again. "Dean?" Sam started to rock back and forth a little then pushed
up off the couch and stumbled toward the doorway his brother had gone through.
Dean was just tugging on his shirt as he turned to Sam, frowning as he once
more crossed to him. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his
arm. "What is it? What can I do Sam?" He swallowed a few times, stepping a
little closer.
The tears started again and Sam couldn't stop shaking, even his teeth were
chattering. It was like he was going into shock or something; crazy ass fucking
brain. "C..Cold," Sam stuttered out and stepped closer to his brother; if he
could just get close enough for that scent. Comfort "Is it ok..kay that I'm
here?' Sam stepped back a little and moved over to the bed sitting on the very
edge. "I have n..nowhere else to go right now."
Dean wasn't as sure about the answer as he thought he should have been but he
nodded and walked to Sam, dropping down beside him and wrapping an arm around
his shoulder. "Yeah Sam, it's okay." He pursed his lips for a moment before
looking behind him. "Want to lay down? I can... you can lay with me. To get
warm?" He was beyond confused, unsure, nervous about the direction this was
going to go and how he might feel afterward.
Blinded by his tears again, Sam nodded and leaned hard against his brother
snaking his arms around Dean's waist. He shuddered and gasped in a breath at
the pain that washed over him. So familiar ... Dean's arms were strong and warm
and Sam buried his face in his brother's neck. The sob that worked its way up
through his chest took his breath away. He clung to Dean and struggled to pull
air back into his lungs and it all came rushing back out again in cries and
muttered curses. His hands clawed at his brother's back as he tried and failed
to get closer, more, back in time somehow - past the hurt and the leaving.
"Sammy," Dean soothed softly, pulling them back across the bed and letting Sam
lay mostly on top of him, holding him as tightly as he could. "It's okay, I've
got you," he murmured and stroked his hand through Sam's hair, trying to calm
him from the weight of everything. In the end he decided it was probably best
to simply hold him as tight as he could and wait out the tears.
Sam didn't think, didn't wonder, didn't try to figure anything out. He held
onto his brother like he was clinging to the side of a rock face and it felt
like he was. At first he tried to talk, tell Dean him why everything was so
fucked up but he couldn't get the words out through his sobs. He just lay there
watching as his tears dampened his brother's shirt. There was only so much that
could come out of Sam before he was just used up; he looked up at his brother
after minutes? Hours? He had no idea how long Dean had been holding him.
"Sorry..." Sam murmured, pressing his hand over his brother's heart and leaning
down to listen to the dull thudding deep inside Dean's chest. Sam's head was
stuffed full of cotton, and every part of him ached and he had absolutely no
idea what to do.
"Nothing to be sorry for," Dean said softly, stilling his hand in Sam's hair.
"Did you want any water? Tissues?" He asked softly, rubbing his palm down into
Sam's shoulders in slow circles. Dean hoped there was something he could get
Sam because he really had no idea what he could say to make him better. Or if
there was anything at all.
"I need to call Dad don't I?" Sam's voice was thick and far away.
Shoulders tensing slightly, Dean looked down at Sam, blinking a few times.
"I... don't know. If that's something you feel like you need to do then..." he
shrugged and looked away. "Do you see him a lot?"
Sam sighed. "Not as much as we used to, it's hard to hunt with someone." Sam
sat up slowly feeling a bit like he'd been on a three day drinking binge.
Rubbing his temples he leaned forward, "headache." Blinking a few times Sam
turned suddenly to look at Dean. "The night you left - why didn't you come back
for me? Why not come back that night?"
"I was going to. After dad passed out..." Dean sighed and shook his head. "I
was two houses down, sitting along the street for maybe ten minutes and then he
drove by in the Impala." Dean's eyes glazed as he thought back to that horrible
night and how badly his body had ached with grief. "I ran after you but he
never stopped. I must have run miles..." He pulled his hand back from Sam's
shoulders and rubbed hard at his eyes.
"I can't ... I don't remember the way everything happened. I don't know - it's
like my memory is messed up somehow. Maybe I got hit harder than I thought."
Sam rubbed at his face. "Dad was good to me after you left. You need to know
that. He..." Sam looked down at his hands, "he drove for hours with me lying
against him." The memories were hard and sharp like razor blades across Sam's
mind opening old wounds afresh. "We should never have ... I mean not the ..."
Sam waved his hand between them, "not the physical stuff - but we were, well,
you were everything to me. I couldn't breathe in the car. When I woke up,
fuck." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't even know how long we drove
and then I woke up and I... couldn't breathe... and Dad said I was panicking. I
knew I wasn't it was just you. You were gone. And all the air went out of the
world at the same time." He swore softly and stood up so he could straighten
his shirt and pace over to the window. "Fuck it - I sound like a crappy romance
novel." The walls were coming back up.
Dean stared at him, shifting on the bed until he could drop his legs off the
edge and rub at his neck. "I'm sorry I ruined your life Sam," he said softly
and pushed up. "I'm glad you had your father there to look after you, at least
he did that," he walked through the room, out the door and into the kitchen. He
felt for Sam, he really did, and the guilt that shot through him was so intense
it nearly swallowed the ache that clenched his heart constantly. But he also
knew how Sam felt, he remembered that pain, he lived with it constantly, and he
didn't have anyone’s side to lie against, didn't have anyone to look after him.
And he hadn't had a choice. Pulling a glass from the cabinet, Dean filled it to
the brim with water and drained its contents in one long swallow.
Sam picked up the blanket off the bed and folded it up to carry it back out to
his brother's couch. So weird, his brother had a couch. Sam had never owned a
piece of furniture in his life. Following Dean back out into the main room Sam
put the folded blanket on the couch and stood there for a few moments running
his fingers over it, tracing the pattern of lines and curves. "You want a ride
to your car? I should probably head out of town... I guess." He spoke in the
general direction of the kitchen where he could hear his brother moving
quietly.
Setting the glass down on the counter, Dean sighed softly and walked out of the
room, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. "I'll
walk there later," he fixed his eyes on Sam, trying to not let himself be
consumed with disappointment. "Can I show you something before you go?" He
asked quietly, pushing off the wall and picking at his jeans.
"Yeah, course." Sam walked over to where Dean was standing and stuffed his
hands in his pocket. He didn't have to leave, he'd said it because that was
what was in his mind - leaving- in the Winchester family you left when the
going got tough.
"Wait here," Dean said quietly and walked back into the bedroom, pulling up the
familiar box from the cabinet and carrying it out to the living room. He set
the box on the table and pulled off the lid, clutching in his fingers and
stepping back. "That's... all the pages," he glanced at Sam then looked back
down. "Every day I ran searches, nothing came up, so I... printed these,
they're in order." Dean swallowed and stared at the 3,500+ papers that
basically were all he had to show for the past ten years.
Moving closer Sam picked up the top few pages then picked up some more.
"Searching for me," he almost whispered. He didn't understand what had happened
with his Father, or how things had become so confusing. Sam had always been so
sure that Dad had been calling Dean, he'd left messages somewhere. Sam dropped
the papers like they were burning his fingers and started searching through the
pockets of his coat. Tugging his phone out he flicked through the contact menu
and his dial when he saw Dad. The phone ran a few times and he heard his
father's gravelly voice.
"Dad, I'm here with Dean." Sam waited a moment to let the full weight of his
words sink in.
John's voice was hesitant when he finally spoke. "You found him?"
"I found him." Sam closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. "Dad - the
night Dean left what happened?" He heard the rustling of clothes, creaking, his
father shifting the phone to his other ear.
"We've been over this a hell of a lot of times Sammy." John cleared his throat,
"Sam, you believe what you gotta believe but I've always done what was best for
you and that's all that's important. Dean was always different than you, and he
was your older brother. I think he knows he shouldn't have ... he knows...
Sammy you ask him."
Sighing Sam opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. "Where you at Dad?
I wanna come see you."
The conversation was stilted after that, after the non-answer. Sam hung up with
a location and an order to give John a few days to wind up the case he was on.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and stared over at Dean. "Dean." Sam
took a deep breath and leaned forward letting his head drop. He was so fucking
tired. "Can I ask you a question?"
Dean, who had been staring at the box of papers and once more been considering
chucking them all out the window, turned to Sam and nodded. "Sure."
"I want you to tell me honestly. What do you think he should have done with us?
When he found out? Did you think what we were doing was right? What would have
happened?" Sam blurted out everything at once hoping Dean would just be able to
sort through and make some sense of it, put the pieces together. Give Sam
something to go on.
"I won't defend his actions," Dean said without hesitations. "And I won't say
anything nice about him outside the fact I'm relieved that he listened to my
request to look after you," he moved slowly to the couch and sat on the
opposite end, turning his eyes to Sam. "You should know that before I say
anything else." He waited until Sam nodded before lifting his eyes to the wall
and taking a steadying breath. "I loved you then Sam, just as I do now. Our
relationship... it was wrong in a lot of people's eyes but never mine. I
understand why John was upset but nothing gave him the right to hold a gun to
me and threaten my life and yours. He should have given it some time, should
have thought about things, should have seriously considered his actions before
he kicked me out. I never would have expected him to support us but to do what
he did," he shook his head roughly, turning his gaze to Sam once more. "I was
all alone Sam. I had no one and no matter how hard I looked for you... and all
I could think about was the way he made me lie to you. The things he threatened
me with to get me to go. That's why he will never be my father again, not in my
mind."
"So, he told you he was going to kill you?" Sam shook his head. “I can't
believe that. You're his son too, Dean. He missed you, I know he did. He used
to tell me stories while we were driving about you learning to shoot, teaching
you to... to drive. He was always sad that he never got to teach me any of
that... he said you got all the best of me." Lifting his gaze slowly Sam looked
over at Dean. "Can you do something for me?"
"He didn't miss me," Dean dead panned and wished he could go back to that night
and video record it so Sam would know the truth, would see it with his own
eyes. Turning back to Sam, he nodded. "I'll do anything for you."
Eyes darting up to his brother's, Sam blinked once then looked away. "Come with
me to see Dad." He knew it was asking a lot. Sam was familiar with the whole
idea of not trusting and not moving on, in fact, he'd made an art form of it.
He just wasn't sure he could face a couple of things that were looming over
him. What if his father had lied? Sam had no idea what he would do. What if
Dean was lying? Sam couldn't even meet his brother's eyes for more than a few
seconds without feeling like his heart was being torn out of his chest. Sam
turned his face away from Dean, afraid it would show his fear.
Pulling in a sharp breath, Dean stared hard at his coffee table. It had always
been some secret wish of Dean's, to see John Winchester one final time and show
him just how much he had done with his life. Even if it wasn't that much at
all. He was a fucking college Professor. He taught people, people who looked up
to him, who never judged or threw him away like garbage. But going back there,
with Sam... Dean knew it was something he had to do if he ever wanted his
brother to know the truth. John would lie and lie and Dean might never see him
again, but Dean could call him on all those lies if he were there. "Okay," he
nodded and looked up at his brother. "Okay I'll go with you. When?"
Relief washed over Sam and he nodded slowly. "I... uh..." there were tears
welling in his eyes again, "he's close, couple day's drive from here? You need
to get time off work?" Sam's first thought was to retreat to the safety of the
car. Get the hell outta dodge.
Nodding, Dean instantly pushed up and moved to the kitchen to retrieve the
dean's number. "Yeah, I'll explain that it's uh... a family emergency," he
carried the number with him to the table and snatched his cell phone. "Then
we'll have to get my car... am I riding with you or would you prefer I drove
myself?" He hands were already starting to shake, the bite of fear snaking
through him at the thought of seeing that man after so long and once more
looking into cold, detached eyes.
Sam blinked a few times and rubbed a hand over his face, "I hadn't really
thought about it. Maybe both cars in case things... don't ... well..." There
was a sting in his own words. There was no way for this to end well. Sam was
going to finish this ride with a brother or a Father. Not both. Never both.
"This is so fucked," he muttered softly.
"I know," Dean nodded slowly and moved to sit on the couch beside Sam once
more, looking over at him with sympathetic eyes. "I'm so sorry Sam. I wish it
wasn't like this..." Dean reached out and laid his hand on Sam's arm. Being
around him and not being able to touch him was hard, but thinking about those
touches being brushed off was even harder. Sighing, he squeezed Sam's arm and
pulled away before the man could make him. "Are you sure you want me to go?"
Not more than two feet away. Dean was sitting not more than two feet away from
Sam and he didn't even have the balls to reach out like Dean did. "Yeah," he
muttered, "I want you to be there - I don't know how else this ends."
Dean knew exactly how he hoped this would end but he also knew it was going to
be very difficult if or when it came to that point. "Okay," he nodded and
dragged his teeth along his lip, sighing softly. "Well I guess I should call
the dean then and let him know. Did you want to take a nap before we go? Or
just leave once we've gotten my car?" He pushed up again, walking to his phone
and the number on the table.
Sam stumbled to his feet and took a step toward Dean then stopped. "A nap? I
... we're going now? Today I mean?" Sam's heart kicked up a notch and a rush of
adrenaline overpowered his exhaustion. "I can ... whenever you're ready ... I
guess."
"If you think we should go today," Dean turned to him, brow pulling together in
confusion. It was hard to get a read on his brother when he was all over the
place like this but Dean had this feeling it would be like this for awhile.
"What did your dad say? When did you arrange to meet?"
"I ... I don't know..." Sam's thoughts were a mess. "Should I go? I should go -
I gave up my Motel room - I gotta find somewhere else to stay. We can go as
soon as you're ready. Tomorrow?"
"Okay," Dean frowned at the floor before looking up. "You can stay here. If you
want. You can have my bed, I don't mind the couch," he tried a smile, thinking
he was fairly certain he hadn't smiled since the first time he saw his brother.
It seemed weird, considering how often he smiled at his students, how they saw
him as a fun guy and Sam must see him as something so much more emotional and
broken.
Huffing out a very sharp laugh Sam shook his head, "I can't stay here
without..." His eyes darted over to Dean. "I can't stay here." There was so
much tension in the room Sam felt like his head was going to blow up. "Do you
want me out of here while you make your calls and stuff?" He tried to change
the subject.
Turning to the side, Dean shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he curled his
fingers around the paper and stepped back to the table, flipping open his
phone. "Will you take me to my car before you leave?" His heart sank slightly
at the words. Dean had been silly to think Sam would just want to hang out with
him, talk about something other than the entire crap thing weighing on both
their shoulders.
Sam stepped closer and reached out curling his hand around the back of Dean's
neck. Rubbing his thumb through the curls he remembered just at the base of
Dean's skull. "I'm fuckin' scared, Dean." Sam let his eyes close and stepped
close enough to feel the head of Dean's chest against his. "I want ... I want
you and I can't. I don't even know how to tell you." He opened his eyes and
turned to face his brother, lips so close to Dean's. "I can't go through that
again - I've never, fuck, it's like I've never been right since you left."
Sighing Sam tilted his head to lean against his brother's. His fingers twitched
at his sides. Sam had never ached more to touch anyone.
Pulling in a quick breath, Dean slowly reached up and let his hands curl around
Sam's arms. "I know what you mean," he whispered. "I feel so broken without
you, always have." He tilted his head and let it run along the side of Sam's
face, lips grazing along his cheek. "Stay here with me tonight. We don't have
to do anything. We can just be together. I can tell you about me, what I've
been up too. Anything. Just... stay." He slid his hands up to Sam's neck,
massaging slowly, holding his breath and hoping this moment wouldn't end badly.
Sam's wasn't sure if his knees buckled because of Dean's touch or if he just
ran out of whatever had been keeping him going for ten years. He fell to his
knees hard, it hurt like a bastard but not nearly as much as finding himself
with his arms wrapped around his brother's legs like he was trying to stop him
from leaving all over again. Face pressed up against his brother's jeans Sam
felt like an idiot, like some lunatic just let out of a mental institute.
Stepping back slightly, Dean knelt beside his brother and let his arms wrap
around strong shoulders, pulling him close. "It's okay," Dean whispered,
cupping the back of Sam's head with his palm and bringing him to rest in the
crook of his neck. His other hand slid down his back, pulling him in closer and
breathing in the strong smell of him. Without the lingering wisps of alcohol
the scent of his brother was much stronger. Tilting his head to the side he
pressed a kiss to Sam's temple and sighed shakily. "Do you think you can stay
with me?"
His brother's words echoed in his head. "I'd do anything for you." Sam wrapped
his arms around his brother - around the man his brother had grown into and
held him as tight as he could.
With a soft smile Dean continued circling Sam's back in gentle strokes,
pressing another kiss to his temple and resituating them on the floor to be
more comfortable. He would hold Sam like this for as long as he wanted, even if
his legs started aching. He'd be okay with that as long as it kept Sam here
with him.
He didn't mean to turn his lips toward Dean's. He didn't mean to do anything
really; it was as though some sort of muscle-memory took over. It was just what
he would have always done. From there it was just a matter of tilting his head
to slide his lips over Deans and just a matter of remembering how to breathe
when fire shot through his body. Just like he remembered, soft, silky, Dean.
As unprepared as Dean was for the kiss, he fell into it as if it were second
nature. A soft whimper fell from his lips as he shifted into the kiss, barely
moving them along Sam's and feeling the jolt and surprise of pleasure. His hand
slid to thread through Sam's hair, cupping softly, allowing him to pull back if
he needed it. Despite all the years of not feeling this, it seemed to come like
second nature, the gentle glide and slide, the heat and spark. Dean's heart
slammed loudly in his chest.
Time was kind of relative all things considered and against those lips ten
years melted away to seconds and this was the kiss that Sam should have given
his brother the night he left; the one he was leaning into when their father
walked through the door. Sam's knees were aching, his heart thudding away
against his ribcage and he wanted more. It was just a warm kiss, gentle and
tender and then it was more. Sam's tongue slipped out of his mouth and traced
along his brother's bottom lip; the same bottom lip that he never found on all
the mouths he kissed.
With the faintest slide forward and tightening of his fingers, Dean let his
tongue slip out to graze along Sam's. Pulling back with a gasp, Dean let his
eyes flicker along Sam's face before he dove back in, slanting their lips over
each others, sliding his tongue forward and into Sam's mouth, swiping in
circles. The inside of Sam's mouth was familiar, warm, delicious in a way he
had almost forgotten. His hand came down to cup Sam's cheek, trying to move
forward so their bodies could touch.
Sam shifted quickly, pulling his brother onto his lap as he fell backwards on
to his ass. He hissed out a breath and grabbed the back of Dean's belt pulling
him up higher on his thighs. It was all different now, Sam so much more man
than sixteen year old. They should talk, he knew that, even as his mouth
crashed back into his brother's and he clutched at the back of his shirt
tugging it this way and that.
Dean couldn't help groaning as their bodies slid together. It was a little
surreal to sit in Sam's lap. The man was basically bigger than him and that hit
Dean in a pleasant and wonderful way. He sucked eagerly on Sam's tongue,
enjoying the way his brother moved beneath him. With another gasp he pulled
back, eyes fluttering open to scan his brother's face. "Sammy," he breathed,
sliding his fingers along Sam's cheek before brushing their lips together once
more. He couldn't get enough; it was too much like coming home.
Pulling his knees up slightly Sam forced Dean to fall against him. He slid his
hands up his brothers back then back down then slipped them under his brother's
shirt. The flesh of his brother's back was hot, still smooth and familiar. It
was all familiar. Sam moaned and shifted his weight so he could slide his hands
under Dean's ass. Digging his fingers into the muscles he thrust his tongue
forward into Dean's mouth, reclaiming every surface with each sweep of his
tongue.
The moan that echoed through their kiss was loud enough to have him pulling
back, hips shifting down into Sam's hands on his ass. "We really should..." he
leaned in and brushed their lips together. "Talk," he added as his tongue came
out to sweep along Sam's lips then he dipped down to suck along his jaw line,
so much more firm then it was ten years ago. So well defined it was breath
taking. Dean murmured something into wide expanse of Sam's neck, sucking
softly.
"Talk?" Sam's hands squeezed hard then slid back up his brother's back to grab
onto his shirt. He pulled Dean back, breaking their kiss and staring up into
his brother's eyes. "Talk then..." Sam let his hands fall down Dean's sides and
settled them on his brother's legs; his thumbs dug into Dean's inner thighs.
Sam was glad of the chance to breathe, get himself in control again. Dean
moving over him, the ways his mouth moved on his neck was killing him inside.
Dean was gorgeous. Sam had always figured maybe he remembered his brother
through sixteen year old - maybe he idolized him - but he really was that
amazing to look at. The green of those eyes was greener than anything Sam had
imagined over the years.
Pulling in a shaky breath, Dean smiled softly and cupped Sam's face, dragging
his thumbs along his brother's cheeks. "I really have missed you," he
whispered, meeting Sam's eyes and laying a finger across his lips. "Shh just
let me say this stuff okay?" He waited for Sam to nod slightly before leaning
down and brushing their lips together. "No matter what happens, I will always
love you. I know you've suffered... I can't even imagine what it was like...
but as long as you want me around I'm going to be here now okay?" Dean sighed
softly and tensed his shoulders, waiting for Sam to push him away. It was too
much, he should have reeled his words back. "I know we need to get to know each
other again. I'd like to do that."
Sam closed his eyes, still able to feel the sound of his brother's words. It
was a minute, maybe longer before he could speak. "Okay ... yeah." He opened
his eyes as the words left his mouth and smiled as he looked down at his
brother's pendent. Lifting one hand he picked it up letting his fingers graze
his brother's chest. "You still have it." His fingers slowly uncurled and lay
flat on Dean's chest.
Smiling down at his brother, Dean nodded and slid his hand back into Sam's
hair, brushing their lips together and chuckling softly. "I can't seem to stop
doing that," he mumbled and shifted back, hand coming up to graze Sam's on his
chest. "Of course I kept it. I have... a shirt too," Dean looked to the side,
biting his lip. "One that hadn't been packed. I went back to the house... found
it." He wet his lips and shook his head. "Makes me sound like a fuckin' stalker
huh?"
Laughing softly Sam shook his head. "Nah ... I ... I had nothing." Sam looked
down as the smile faded from his lips. "When I woke up I was in the back seat
of the car, didn't even know where and I had nothing of you." Sam blinked back
the tears that seemed to be threatening every time he opened his mouth to
speak. "I wasn't sure sometimes if you were ever real." He chewed on the side
of his bottom lip for a while. "The smell of you," he blew out a breath as a
tear fell from the corner of his eye, "was on my shirt for a while." He wiped
at his cheek with the back of his hand. "Sorry..."
Swiping at his tears with the pad of his thumb, Dean leaned in and kissed the
tears off his face. "Has there been anything in the past ten years that was
good?" He asked quietly and shifted on Sam's lap. "I should move, I'm probably
hurting you," he quirked his lips up in a smile and shifted back.
"I used to sit on you like that. You never complained." Sam smiled slightly. It
made him a little sad that he couldn't think of anything to tell his brother.
Taking a deep breath Sam scratched at the back of his head. "I hunt. I suppose
that's good. Helped a lot of people. Didn't fuck up too much." He shrugged.
"Tell me more about teaching, seems like you turned out to be the smart one
after all." In case Dean was thinking about moving Sam slipped his fingers
through his brother's belt loop.
Chuckling softly, Dean shook his head, "Nah, not really smarter. I just teach
mythology and folklore, things I know about." Dean shrugged and rested his
forearms on Sam's shoulders, slipping his fingers in his hair. "One creative
writing class but I think I might suck at it. I... got bored. With the mechanic
stuff after a few years. I tried to hunt once but..." Dean shook his head,
"Didn't go so well. So I made some fake information and became Professor
Smith." Dean laughed again and relaxed into his brother, enjoying the way his
heart fluttered at the gentleness of the moment. "I do okay. Any time I'm not
here I'm there. It keeps me busy enough."
"That's good." Sam's heart was already miles ahead of his mind wondering how
settled his brother was. "Guess you're pretty happy here. I'm glad, I really
am." He reached up and ran his fingers along his brother's eyebrow, down his
cheek and across his lips. "Have you... have you ever seen anyone? A guy or
someone..." He wasn't sure why he was even asking because either answer would
be brutal.
Clenching his jaw, Dean looked to the side and shook his head. "Sam... when I
said I waited for you for ten years... I... I meant that literally," he bit his
lip and stared down at the space between their bodies. "I haven't been with
anyone since you were taken from me," he whispered the words, face heating with
color. "And I mean that, in every sense of the words. This place... I teach and
when I'm not teaching I'm searching for you. That's all I do. All I've done,
for the past ten years," he shrugged and looked at his brother from under his
eye lashes.
"Fuck." Their lives couldn't have gone in two such different directions; it was
like everything was turned upside down from that moment they were pulled apart.
"You've not ... ten years. I've ... I've..." Sam's mouth hung open for a few
moments then snapped shut.
"Yeah I know, who would have thought Dean Winchester could keep it in his pants
for ten years?" He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. "I tried once or
twice. To kiss someone... first time made me puke. Second time I punched the
guy so then I just didn't bother." He lifted his eyes slowly to scan his
brother's features. "Have there... have you been with... many... people?" It
hurt to even get the words out but some twisted part of him wanted to know,
needed to know.
Sam blew out a breath, "yeah... I've... I.. Why'd you punch the guy?" Sam slid
his hands up over Dean's hips. Suddenly all those faces and people seemed like
a trail of mistakes.
Dean's heart did that familiar clenching thing and he shrugged. "Guy said the
wrong thing, wrong time. He was a douche and had it coming," shifting back
slightly he forced a smile onto his lips. "I really should call Mr. Alexander,
the school dean, he's going to need some time to find someone to cover the
classes." He pushed up off Sam's lap and stumbled for a moment, regaining his
footing and heading for the table where his cell phone still sat.
Climbing up off the floor Sam sat back on the edge of the couch watching his
brother move about the room. Dean was more confident now that he was older and
there was a deliberateness in every movement he made. But then, Sam could watch
Dean all night and not tire of it. He figured, things were about to explode in
so many different directions - when they got to their father - he might as well
enjoy this while it lasted. If John had lied to him, taken away the one thing
he loved more than anything and in trade given him ten years of fucking
strangers in bars and hunting things he could kill just so he didn't kill
himself; if that's what his father he done - well - Sam didn't know what would
happen.
Mr. Alexander was more than understanding of Dean's situation. Then again, Dean
had never even asked for a sick day off before so he had some time built up,
the short notice was merely a minor setback. When he'd assured the man he'd
call with news, he turned back to Sam and snapped his phone shut. "All set," he
pursed his lips and looked around his living room. "Did you want something to
eat or drink? I have leftover pizza and beer."
"Your car..." Sam pushed up off the couch, "I could walk back and get it for
you. I kinda freaked out on your earlier." Sam shook his head and smiled, "was
a rough night and ... so much... well..." his voice trailed off. "Dean,
listen..." Sam walked over and grabbed his brother's wrist, "I don't know what
we're doing here - you and I - but," he frowned and dragged his thumb across
his bottom lip, "I'm not your Sammy anymore. That kid... I haven't been that
kid for a long time."
"I don't need you to be that kid," Dean said softly and looked around the
apartment, not able to meet Sam's eyes. "You're still my brother. I know you're
different but I still love you. I've held on to that for so long. I can't let
it go now. It's not... it's not something I'm ever going to stop feeling."
Finally he dragged his eyes up to Sam's and reached up to cup his cheek. "I
just hope one day you'll feel..." he broke off and dropped his hand, stepping
away. "I can walk to my car, I know some short cuts. You can come along if you
want."
"Okay, I could use some smokes anyway." When Dean looked a little surprised Sam
shrugged again. "What? I used to only smoke when I drank but I probably
shouldn't be drunk... here." He picked up his jacket and headed for the door.
"Show me these short cuts."
***** Chapter 5 *****
"I'm gonna make some pasta," Dean announced as they stepped back in his
apartment, kicking off his shoes and tossing his keys on the table. It was
incredibly wonderful to have Sam back with him but there was still that
tension, almost as if both were too afraid to get to know each other in case
things with John went south in a major way. "You still like Alfredo sauce?" He
asked over his shoulder at Sam before reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a
giant pan, setting it in the sink. His lips were still tingling even though it
had taken almost an hour and a half to walk to his car, pick up cigarettes and
drive back. More than anything he would have loved to pull Sam into the kitchen
with him, to have Sam rub up against his body like he did when they were just
beginning this love. Like the time Dean had to drag him out of the house, throw
him into the Impala and drive him out to the middle of the woods. Dean chuckled
at the memory fondly as turned on the faucet.
"What are you laughing about?" Sam padded into the kitchen and leaned his hip
against the counter beside his brother. "You're cooking, cooking shouldn't be
funny." He smiled and tilted his head then flipped his hair back out of his
eyes. Dean's smile was... sexy. Sam was in so much trouble.
Turning off the faucet and picking up the pan to set on the burner, Dean waited
until the fire was on before turning to look at Sam. "I was just remembering
that one time when I dragged your ass to the middle of the woods and you
thought I was going to leave you there," he smiled softly and dropped his eyes,
enjoying the way the memory flushed over him pleasantly. "You used to be all
over me back then."
"Dude I was fourteen, a fourteen year old would be all over anyo..." Sam
grimaced. "You know, there's something you should know about me. I spend all my
time driving around and... and... and killing shit. I don't talk to people
unless I have to so the odds of me putting my foot in my mouth when I do speak
are really high." He shrugged a shoulder and stepped closer. "I seem to
remember it taking me a long time to convince you ... to do more. I had to be
dedicated to get what I wanted." Something skittered around in Sam's mind not
unlike guilt. Maybe if he'd never convinced Dean...
"I wanted it too, more then you could ever know," he smiled at Sam softly,
shrugging off the other comment as one of those things Sam would say that would
stab at his heart unknowingly and he'd never address it. "I was always thinking
if I held off you'd stop wanting it, you'd get interested in a girl at school
or something and I could go on having these sick perverse thoughts myself,"
Dean shrugged and stared at the pot of water even if that meant it would never
boil. "I guess I was always trying to protect you and in the end I was the one
who hurt you most. Irony at its core."
"It maybe wasn't you - we haven't established that yet." Sam looked up at Dean
with wide eyes, "I mean, I haven't. I guess." Sam sighed, "I think things were
going better when we weren't talking. Maybe we could do some more not talking
after dinner." Grabbing Dean's back pocket Sam pulled his hip straight to his
crotch and leaned down quickly to bite at his brother's neck. He just couldn't
take it anymore. The fumbling words and everything that was hanging there
unsaid. Hands fisting Dean's shirt he dragged his brother back away from the
stove and pushed him back against the counter. "You haven't fucked anyone for
ten years," he growled against Dean's neck, "doesn't that mean you want this...
pretty bad?"
Swallowing hard, Dean's head tilted back and his hand fell to Sam's waist,
pushing back slightly. "I do. I want it really fucking bad, you have no idea,"
he shook his head and slid away from Sam, grabbing the box of pasta and dumping
it into the water. "I just have this feeling that it would be a very unwise
thing to do at this point in time. You don't even believe me," his voice
dropped low, heart thudding in his chest. "I might regret it later, but I'd
rather... wait."
"I think you will regret it." Sam didn't mean for his voice to sound as cold as
it did. He walked over and pressed his body up against Dean's back and slid his
hands around the man's waist. "So," he murmured against Dean's ear, "back to
talking then."
Dean's shoulders tensed and he nudged Sam back slightly. "I think you should go
over there. I... after last night my brain seriously can only handle so much
with you so near and I don't think you want me shutting off like that again."
He rested the urge to add or maybe that's exactly what you want. Dean knew he
didn't know his brother any more but struggling to accept that was really
beginning to tear him to shreds. "This will be ready in a few minutes."
Dean’s words stung and Sam stepped away to grab his cigarettes off the counter.
"Can I smoke in here or should I go outside?" He knew he was all over the
place. He knew it like you know you're alive when you wake up in the morning,
like you know you'll breathe in another breath when you exhale. There was this
voice inside of him, telling him to just get all over Dean and have him. Get it
over with -because- Jesus Christ if it turned out John was telling the truth
there wouldn't be a snowball's chance in hell that Sam would touch his brother.
Besides - it had always worked out better for him, the touching rather than
speaking. Funny, when he was a kid, it was Sam who never shut up.
"I can't believe you smoke," Dean looked over at Sam. "And that your father
lets you. How very... well fuck, I don't know him at all so I guess I can't say
it's unlike him." Dean shrugged and gestured to the window. "Just open that,
then I don't care." He turned the fire off under the pot and carried it to the
sink, emptying the contents and running them under cold water. Dean hated how
everything between them seemed to crack and sizzle not in a good way and he
wished there was an easy fix he just hadn't thought of yet. "So I have coke.
Since you said you didn't want to drink," he glanced over at Sam before looking
away just as quick.
"Whatever," Sam pulled out a cigarette, lit it and held it in his mouth while
he yanked on the window until it opened. He snagged the closest chair with his
foot and pulled it over so he could dangle the cigarette out. "You know I'm
twenty-six now right? So it really doesn't matter too much what Dad thinks
about me smoking. Is that what this is all about? You still think I'm sixteen?"
Sam grinned to himself and took a long drag on his cigarette then blew the
smoke out the window. "Old and disillusioned," he murmured under his breath,
"that's me."
Turning his gaze to Sam, Dean shook his head, "I'm pretty well aware that
you're not sixteen anymore." He pursed his lips and stirred the sauce over the
pasta for a long minute before tilting the pot over two bowls and serving some
up. He grabbed two cans of coke from the fridge and tucked them under his arm
before carrying the bowls over. "Can I ask you a question Sam?" He asked
softly, sliding one bowl and a coke toward Sam and settling into his own chair.
Sam pinched his cigarette out and stuck it back in his pack then turned around
and pulled his chair over closer to the table. "Yeah... sure." His fingers
wrapped around the cool can and moved slowly through the condensation for a few
moments before he looked up at his brother.
Dean ate quiet for a few minutes before looking over at his brother and
sighing, looking back down at his food. "Do you wish I'd never done any of
those things?" He whispered, stabbing at the pasta. "Do you wish that I had
just settled with being your brother and never talked you into more?"
Sam's brow furrowed for a few moments then he pulled his bowl closer. "I talked
you into more," was all he could say without making things take a direction he
didn't want to go. A muscle in his jaw started twitching and he rubbed at it
with the heel of his hand.
"I think you might just see it differently," Dean shook his head. "You may have
done the first initial kissing but I'm the one who went back to you, who
basically talked you into it..." He shrugged and looked away. "Just forget I
said anything. Eat something or..." Dean scrubbed at the back of his neck and
tucked himself into his meal. He really needed to stop talking; clearly this
Sam was not interested in these types of conversations.
"What do you want from me? You want me to give you some handy reason for why
I'm obviously not the person you expected me to be? Or maybe you just wanted to
flay yourself a bit more by being the one who's responsible for this? What
fuckin' difference does it make who touched who first? We screwed up Dean, I
was a kid and I didn’t know better and Dad was never around so he didn't even
have a chance to stop us." Sam looked down at his food. "You want me to tell
you that I'm happy about the way things turned out? No, Dean, I'm not. I lost
my older brother at a time when I needed him the most and I think that probably
made me what I am today. So yeah, Dean, I wish we'd just been brothers and
not..." Sam shook his head. Losing the one man he loved more than anything in
the world was the worst feeling Sam had ever experienced. There would never be
anyone again like Dean was to him. Never. "I left something... some part of me
back at that house when we left. And it's gone... and ... it's just gone."
Sam's hands were clenched into fists.
Dean's heart squeezed in his chest, stomach churning uncomfortably. He pushed
the bowl away from him and stood from the table, forcing himself to nod. "I'm
sorry," he whispered because it seemed like the only thing he could say. That
horrible truth laid out in front of him like a slap of realization and his
heart felt a little like it was breaking. "It was never that way for me," he
said softly and carried his bowl into kitchen, dropping it in the sink. "But
thank you for being honest with me. It's good that I know. I'm just going to
watch some TV now," he walked shakily to the couch and dropped down, ready to
be done with this conversation before his heart literally exploded in his
chest.
Sam sat at the table shaking for about a minute before something inside him
snapped. His arm swept sideways and shot the bowl, the food and the coke can
flying off the table. "What do you want from me?" His voice was raised, loud in
the small room. "You just, you keep apologizing and asking me stupid
questions," standing up he kicked his chair back and it slammed into the wall.
"What you want to know if I still love you? I don't love anything because...
because... I loved you for the first half of my fuckin' life and then you left
and I spent the next half of my life knowing you thought I was some filthy
piece of shit you just couldn't wait to get away from." He leaned back against
the wall, hands trembling at his sides. "It was the only good thing I had - and
now you're taking it away from me - saying that... saying that you made it
happen. I want you..." Sam's voice faltered, "I wanted you. It wasn't just you.
I was old enough to know that I was in love with you, Dean. And now, you're ...
you're..." The anger left Sam's body in a matter of moments and he slid down
the wall to sit on the floor, panting, heart crashing around in his chest.
Lifting his eyes to Sam, Dean blinked a few times before looking away. "Jesus
Sam how the hell did you expect me to be? You seem to forget that I've suffered
too. You got wrenched from my life and I had to be the one to say it because
there was a fucking gun to my back. I've spent all this time looking for you
and I always thought you'd come and find me. It's why I stayed in this
apartment, and I've never stopped loving you or wanting you or feeling like I'm
the reason I have no one." Dean swiped angrily at the tears on his cheeks and
pushed up. "I can be the strong one for us but I need a certain level of hope
that I'm still fighting for something."
"Hope?" Sam blinked a few times then ran his hand through his hair and pushed
up off the floor and bent over to start to picking up the pieces of pasta off
the floor. "What kind of hope do you want?" Sam's voice was softer. What he
really wanted to do was wrap his arms around his brother and soothe away
whatever messed up thing was hurting him so badly. He knew Dean didn't want him
near him, he'd said so, and it was the worst kind of feeling. It hurt like a
knife right through his chest.
"That you're going to believe me," Dean shifted forward, watching Sam with wary
eyes. "You're all I've got Sam. If you don't believe me... if you send me away
after all this... I just don't know if I can handle that. And every part of me
just wants to be with you and kiss you and show you that things can be okay
again. I hate that you're hurting like you are almost as much as I hate that
there's nothing I can do to make it better." He sighed softly and shook his
head, "Sam will you just come over here for a minute? Let me hold you?"
Sam straightened up and put the bowl on the table dropping the pasta into it
then wiped his hands on his jeans. He watched out the window for a few moments
then walked slowly over to where Dean was sitting and dropped down to kneel in
front of his brother. It was like slow motion. As gruff and hard as Sam seemed
he was terrified every moment that Dean was going to push him away. He slid his
hands up his brother's thighs and pushed forward hesitantly between Dean's
legs.
With a soft smile Dean shifted forward until his arms could slide easily around
Sam's shoulders and he could bring his brother against his chest. "Sam, I know
you're not the person I knew before okay? And I can only imagine how hard this
all is for you to wrap your mind around, but I'm still here. And I'm not going
anywhere unless you tell me too okay?" He leaned forward and rested his
forehead against Sam's, eyes falling closed. "I will always love you."
As his hands drifted up across Dean's chest Sam smiled slightly. "Then don't
keep pushing me away," he murmured. He rolled his forehead against his
brother's and slid his lips across Dean's softly; the warmth of the touch
sending sparks down across his shoulders. "Don't keep sayin' no." Eyes closed,
Sam breathed in the warm of his brother's breath. "Please, Dean?" Their cheeks
slid together and Sam sucked gently on the skin at the bottom of his brother's
neck, fingers curling and uncurling in the material of Dean's shirt.
"I'm scared," Dean admitted softly, head shifting back to grant Sam more room.
His hands on Sam's back curled together and he shifted forward, wanting to be
closer to Sam.
Swallowing, Sam placed a tender kiss on his brother's neck. "Okay..." He
slipped his arms around Dean's waist and pulled up as close to him as he could.
"Maybe it can be okay ... somehow..." He just pulled in lung full after lung
full of Dean's familiar scent and smiled against his brother's neck. "I'm sorry
for the things I said." Sam's heart was so full it was aching.
"I wanted you to be honest," Dean whispered and pulled back, meeting Sam's
eyes. "God Sammy," he wet his lips and leaned down, capturing his brother's
lips against his own in a soft slide of lips. His hands came up to come along
his head, tilting him back slightly so his tongue could slid forward to trace
along Sam's lips. After a moment he pulled back and smiled softly, "Okay. I'm
not going to push you away any more. I'm just gonna take what I can."
Sam remembered that smile, remembered the tenderness of his brother's gentle
kisses; it flooded through him taking the edge of the hurt as it went. It
reminded him that what he'd had all those years ago was real. Leaning in Sam
sucked Dean's bottom lip into his mouth and swept his tongue along it
marvelling at how much it felt like coming home. He shifted forward again to
close the last of the distance between them and tightened his hold on Dean then
slanted his mouth over Dean's and plunged his tongue into the stunning heat. He
heart flipped in his chest then raced like he was terrified, shit, he was
terrified but it was a good terrified.
Moaning at the invasion of Sam's tongue into his mouth, Dean pressed flush
against his brother's body, sucking on his tongue eagerly. His fingers slid
around to curl in Sam's hair, tugging sharply he arched his brother's body back
to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue along Sam's and shoving roughly into
his mouth. Even though they seemed to be all over the place, it comforted Dean
to know they could come back to this place. This was familiar and warm,
comforting, made the ache in his heart soothe with each stroke of his brother's
tongue along his. "Can we," Dean murmured into the kiss, free hand working the
crook of Sam's neck, "lay down? In bed?" He pulled back and bit down on his
lip, scanning Sam's features.
Breathing shallow and hard Sam nodded and pushed up to his feet dragging Dean
with him and pulling him up to slide against his body. Groaning quietly Sam's
hands slid around to settle on his brother's back, kneading the muscle,
claiming his flesh. He tugged, stepping back toward the bedroom lips moving
against Dean's cheeks, sucking a path down his chiselled jaw then capturing his
lips again. Sam held back, gentle, soft, wanting to show Dean the only way he
know how, that he could still feel what they felt so long ago.
"Oh god," Dean gasped as he stumbled backward to the bed. His body was alive
with the touch, heat coursing through him so quickly he could feel his cock
almost instantly filling. Too long without touch and the whole everything of
the past twenty four hours was really starting to wear him thin. "Feels so
good," he whispered before tugging Sam's head up with clenched fingers in his
hair, slanting their lips together once more and shoving his tongue forward.
The back of his calves bumped into the bed and he fell backward, groaning into
the kiss as Sam came crashing down with him, landing heavily on his chest. He
could feel the man try to shift back to give him room and he tightened his
grip, whimpering into the kiss to pull him closer still.
The noises Dean made traveled down Sam's body like an electric charge settling
in his hips and sending heat rushing to his cock. Dragging his lips back from
Dean's he smiled and rubbed his thumb across his brother's cheek, "you're
shaking." He dipped down and kissed the corner of Dean's mouth and slid as far
to the side as Dean would let him. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered against
his brother's ear. The scent of his brother's hair was sweet and warm, it made
Sam's eyes water just a little and he nuzzled into the crook of Dean's neck.
His lips moved gently against his brother's neck; licking, sucking, kissing,
caring.
Dean moaned softly and shifted them further up the bed, hands dipping down to
curl on the hem of Sam's shirt, pushing up so he could touch mostly smooth
flesh. "I want you," he whispered and began working at the buttons along his
shirt, dipping his hands inside to rest on his chest the moment all the buttons
were free. His fingers grazed along Sam's nipples for a moment before pushing
up to his shoulders, urging the material off. "Your skin is burning," he
breathed, meeting Sam's eyes for a moment before leaning in for a soft brush of
lips. Already he felt more alive than he could remember feeling in a long time.
The difference between last night and now was almost tangible and he shoved
harder at Sam's shirt, desperate to feel their flesh together.
Rolling slightly Sam pulled his arms free from his shirt then grabbed the front
of Dean's shirt and yanked him up off the bed, "get it off." Pushing his hands
up Dean's belly, across his chest he slid the material up until Dean reached
down and yanked the shirt up over his head. Sam's eyes softened as his fingers
moved over his brother's flawless skin; sun-kissed and freckled. Smiling he
pressed Dean back down onto the mattress and held himself over his brother's
body for a few moments. Sam's lips moved warm and soft over Dean's face, the
freckles, down his neck and across his collar bone. Lowering his weight slowly
he pushed his leg between Dean's rubbing his body up the length of his
brother's then back down to roll their hips together gently.
Head falling back with a moan, Dean arched his body up into Sam's, curling his
hands around Sam's arms and sliding up to his neck. "God you've gotten so..."
he wet his lips and dropped his hands between their bodies, tracing along the
curve of Sam's chest. "Filled out." He chuckled softly and rolled his hips
again and let his fingers settle on Sam's waistline, working the button between
his fingers. "Off," he urged, lifting his gaze to Sam's, silently checking to
ensure this was okay.
Sam rolled over on his back; smiling, tucked his arms behind his head and peer
over at Dean. "Undress me." His voice was firm, thick and God he was turned on.
Seeing Dean so worked up, flushed, shaking was the hottest things he'd seen
since... well, since he was sixteen. "Do it..." he shifted his hips slowly and
arched an eyebrow at his brother.
"Jesus," Dean moaned and rolled into his side, sliding his fingers down Sam's
chest, tracing new curves and lines he'd never seen before, as if every part of
Sam was something new for him to learn. Leaning in, he sucked a patch of skin
just below Sam's nipple, working his mouth up as his fingers grazed against
denim. As he sucked Sam's nipple into his mouth he finished working the button
from its clasp, dragging the zipper down impossibly slow. Pulling back, Dean
let his eyes settle on Sam's face as he rolled up and tugged the jeans roughly
down, crawling back to slide them off Sam's long legs and tossing them across
the room. Sam's already hard length was tenting up his boxers and Dean
swallowed, wondering just how much bigger Sam had gotten down there since
sixteen. Biting down on his lip he crawled back up and tugged at the elastic on
the boxers, letting his gaze settle on the flesh as it slowly came into view
with each inch of cotton he dragged down. "Jesus you're fuckin' huge," he
breathed and let his eyes shoot up, grinning wide at his brother.
Huffing out a short laugh Sam rolled his hips up under Dean, "I'm
proportionate," he growled out, "hurry up want your lips again." Sam couldn't
get enough of those lips, they were everything he remembered. Real. He let his
lashes fall to his cheeks and his head fall to the side as he soaked up the
heat from his brother's body. Dean moved lithely over him, pulling his boxers
down teasingly.
"My lips huh?" Dean chuckled and let his lips graze along the skin inside Sam's
legs as he finally dragged Sam's boxers the rest of the way down, tugging them
off and sending them to join his jeans across the room. He crawled back up
Sam's body, falling to the side and dragging Sam over him to brush their lips
together. His tongue thrust forward into Sam's mouth, swirling in small circles
before brushing along Sam's tongue slowly. He moaned into the kiss and pressed
his hand flat into Sam's chest, sliding down until he could curl his fingers
along the base of Sam's heavy aching flesh, stroking up slowly to measure the
full length of him. Christ.
Laughing low, deep, gravelly, Sam held his brother's shoulders for a moment and
pressed him down hard into the mattress. "Want to just look at me for a while?"
He was grinning when he ducked down to lick his way back into Dean's mouth,
tongue thrusting in and taking over. One large hand moved up to anchor in
Dean's hair so he could yank the other man's head back and bite down his
throat. "Fuck you taste good." It took a few deep breaths for Sam's head to
stop spinning. Crawling back away from Dean he took a deep breath, "get up and
get undressed, I'll be right back." Pushing up off the bed Sam disappeared
through the door. When he reappeared he folded his arms and leaned against the
doorframe. "Was I too quick? I asked you to get undressed." He arched an
eyebrow at his brother, smiling.
With a faint chuckle Dean climbed off the bed and locked his eyes with Sam's as
his fingers tucked into the waistline of his jeans, popping the button open. A
slow grin worked its way up his lips as he dragged the zipper down and shimmied
out of the jeans, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His
eyes fluttered slightly as he rubbed the crotch of his boxers with his palm
before lifting the elastic of his boxers and pushed them down, stepping out of
them. "Satisfied?" He asked as he climbed onto the bed and spread out, tucking
his arms beneath his head.
"Nowhere near satisfied," Sam growled as he moved quickly to the bed. He
dropped a condom and some lube on the nightstand and rolled back on to the bed.
Shifting over he settled himself along Dean's side ducking his head to kiss
down the underside of his arm then leaning in to catch his mouth again. It was
a heated kiss; Sam threw his weight against it, crushing Dean's mouth with his.
Tongue thrusting, he reclaimed every curve and line, every surface of his
brother's mouth. The moans, the soft amazing sounds that his brother made sent
his lust spiralling out of control. "Dean," he murmured against his brother's
mouth, "wanna come.. inside you, wanna fuck you..." He slid his hand around his
brother's throat, pinning him down to the mattress and kissing him hard,
savagely, sucking the other man's tongue deep into his mouth.
Tension worked through him for a moment and Dean struggled with it for a
moment, pulling back, he stared into Sam's eyes. "You wanna..." Dean swallowed
hard a few times and shifted beneath Sam's heavy weight. His heart was racing
in his chest and he caught his lower lip between his teeth. "I've never..." he
trailed off, knowing Sam would know exactly what he'd never done. And Sam was
so huge.
Sam's brow furrowed for a few moments then his expression softened, "I ... I'm
sorry, it's okay." Idiot. Sam's world was so different, strangers in bars,
quick messy fumblings against the back fender of his car. Shifting once more he
lay along Dean's side and slid his hand down over his brother's belly and
through the curls at the base of his shaft. His lips moved to the shell of
Dean's ear. "Don't worry, plenty of time..." he rumbled deep in his chest. The
heat radiating from his brother's cock reached Sam’s fingers before they curled
around the rigid flesh. Growling softly against Dean's ear Sam's fingers slid
up his brother's shaft closing tight over the head for a few moments, thumb
riding the ridge before sending his fist back down to the base.
The thing was, Dean didn't know that they had plenty of time. He had no idea
how things would go when they met John and suddenly the idea of not having Sam
with him was just too much. "I want it," he turned to Sam, rolling his way and
crushing their lips together. He curled his fingers in Sam's chest, sliding
down until he could once more run his fingers along the thick line of Sam's
arousal. "I want you to... fuck me," he murmured into Sam's lips.
Sam gasped in a breath then moaned as he threw his arms around his brother and
crushed him against his chest. Pushing up off the bed with one foot Sam slid
their cocks together, the heated skin sent darts of pleasure racing around in
his bloodstream. He rolled Dean back, slid his hand down his brother's chest
and stared into his glass green eyes. "Roll over," he said softly as he nudged
his brother's hip with his knee.
Pulling in a quick breath Dean rolled to lie on his stomach, trying to calm the
swell of nerves coursing through him. He wondered if Sam was this nervous his
first time, when Dean was the one on top. Of course Sam had practically begged
for it, had told Dean about fucking himself with his fingers. Dean had never
even done that. "Do you ever bottom?" He asked into the pillow, stretching his
arms high above his head, feet pointing down as he extended his body the full
length of the bed.
Watching as his brother stretched, muscles rippling and twitching Sam's eyes
widened. "No," Sam's voice was soft, "I don't ... do that ... anymore." It
filled Sam with an aching kind of sadness. He just wasn't sure if he'd ever
trust anyone that way again, with everything. Dean was the only one. Sam would
give anything to wipe away all these years in between them.
As his eyes moved over Dean's body he could feel the tension radiating off of
him. It tugged at him, some place in him that he's closed off from everyone
years ago. "Relax," Sam soothed as his rough hands moved over Dean's back. He
massaged the tension filled muscles in his brother's neck and shoulders,
leaning down every-so-often to pepper tiny kisses along the back of Dean's
neck. Splayed fingers ran over the hills and valleys of his brother's body,
kneading and working the knots.
"Mmm," Dean moaned and rocked his body up into the touch, enjoying the way his
cock slid in counter action against the bed sheets. "Feels good," he turned his
head to the side and looked down to try and peer at Sam. As the hands drifted
lower his breath hitched again and he twisted his hands to spread along the
sheet. "Just go slow," he murmured and shifted his hips up once more,
anticipation beginning to coil around the nerves and cover them. The idea of
being connected with Sam again, on this level, was beginning to send a sharp
jolt of thrill through him.
Reaching out Sam grabbed the lube off the night stand and flipped it open
squeezing some into his palm. He pushed Dean's thighs apart gently straddling
one of his brother's legs. Rubbing the lube onto his fingers he wiped his palm
on the quilt and settled it on his brother's ass, squeezing gently then
slipping his lubed finger along the crevice. Pushing down and finding the
puckered entrance, Sam sucked in a sharp breath and covered it with lube.
Leaning down he kissed the small of Dean's back, dragging his tongue across it
briefly. "You alright?"
"Yes," Dean nodded and bit down hard on his lip, shifting his hips down into
Sam's touch. Every part of him seemed to spiral with pleasure, all radiating
from Sam's finger sliding along such sensitive skin. "Do it," he murmured,
suddenly curious as to how this would feel, what Sam's finger buried in him
would feel like. His hips rolled down into the mattress, stirring up the
pleasure to cover the lingering nerves.
Sam's heart swelled in his chest and his breath hitched. He pushed his finger
against Dean's tight muscle as he slid his other hand down across his ass to
his hip so he could pull his brother's hips up off the mattress slightly. His
finger slipped inside, the silky hole was fiery and tight as his other hand
slid underneath Dean's hip and wrapped around his cock. Working Dean's cock
slowly Sam pushed his finger gently, twisting it, letting the man's body grow
accustomed to the intrusion. When he felt the give, heard his brother's quiet
moan he pushed in further.
It burned but not as unpleasantly as he thought it would. "Sammy," he murmured
and arched his body, curving it down into Sam's finger and up into his grasp.
Already it felt like he was coming apart under the touch and he wanted more.
"Nother one," he mumbled into his pillow, fingers curling into the sheets,
heart slamming into his chest.
Squeezing his brother's cock gently, thumbing the weeping head Sam slid another
finger inside his brother. He could feel Dean's muscles clench around his
digits as his eyes moved over the man's back and rippling muscles. He waited,
eyes closed, hand working Dean's swollen shaft. Sam's eyes darted up to Dean's
face just visible, rosy cheeks, swollen lips and a moan worked its way out of
his broad chest. "So.. gorgeous like this... fuck Dean..." Falling down quickly
he bit hard on his brother's back and slid his fingers all the way inside him.
He could see his brother's muscles tense and watch them slowly ripple, flutter
and relax. It was so hot, so amazing. Dean. Beginning to move his fingers Sam
fucked his brother open, stretching his tight hole. Dean's cock swelled full
and heavy in his brother's hand and Sam felt his own cock twitch and jolt.
As he adjusted to the second burn, that was more painful than the first, Dean
could feel his muscles tighten then release, rippling pleasure through him. "Oh
shit," he gasped as the tip of Sam's fingers brushed along something in him,
his prostate, just the faintest little touch and he was seeing stars. Maybe it
had simply been too long since anyone had touched him, since Sam had touched
him, but Dean was really starting to doubt his ability to keep this up. He was
going to come into Sam's hand and then they'd be done before they even started.
"Sammy, gotta stop touching me... I'm gonna come if you don't," he mumbled into
the pillow and arched his ass up into Sam's fingers.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sam's voice was thick and rich with lust.
He laughed softly as he pushed a third finger inside his brother's tight heat.
The way Dean arched up onto his fingers sent waves of pleasure through Sam's
body. Hooking his fingers slightly Sam found that little bundle of nerves again
brushing it gently and watching his brother writhe beneath him. Watching Dean
that way Sam felt like he would come right there, it was sexy, raw, open. Sam
withdrew his fingers and snatched up the condom, tearing it open with his teeth
and rolling it down his shaft quickly. Squirting more lube on the condom he
wiped his palms on the sheets, grabbed Dean's hips and rolled him onto his
side. Sam curled his body behind Dean's and rested his chin on his brother's
shoulder, "better for you this way," he murmured. He couldn't take it any
longer - his heart was beating right out of his chest. Guiding his cock with
his hand, Sam pushed against his brother's entrance gently, rubbing the head of
his cock back and forth slowly and moaning at the contact. Sliding his arm
under Dean's Sam pressed his brother's chest with his palm and pushed the head
of his cock inside. "Jesus Christ, Dean..." His brother was so tight, so hot
that even with the condom on Sam could feel his orgasm building within him. He
stilled, fighting it back and slipping his free hand over Dean's hip to fist
his weeping shaft.
The position was not lost on Dean, though he wondered if Sam remembered. Dean
could never possibly forget. Curling his arm behind him and tangling his hand
in Sam's hair, he mumbled, "This was how we..." the words broke off in a groan
which morphed into a hiss as Sam's cock stretched his muscles further apart
then he thought possible. This burn was completely different, like he was being
split open, completely and totally consumed. "Oh fuck," he moaned and arched
back into his brother, instantly pulling him in a few more inches. Panting
heavily, he willed his body to relax enough to take all of Sam in. He wanted to
bask in the utter completeness of their connection and his fingers still in
Sam's hair tugged.
Sam mouthed his brother's neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. Of
course he remembered it, of course, every fibre of Sam's body remembered the
feel of Dean inside him and the way his hands had moved over Sam's body. Sam
gasped out a half moan, half cry as Dean's fist tightened in his hair. His
brother's body drew him in and Sam almost had to hold his fuckin' breath just
to hold back and not thrust into Dean like their lives depended on it. "Tell
me..." he growled as his rough palm squeezed his brother's cock gently, feeling
it swell again as Dean's pain faded, "tell me when..."
"Go," Dean insisted, rocking his hips in slow circles, sliding up and pushing
down. It only got him a few sparks of pleasure, not enough room for him to move
the way he wanted and needed. "Fuck Sam I want you to..." he loosened his hand
and let it slide down, falling behind him to curl around his hip bone, pushing
at him. "Fuck me," he finished off with a moan, clenching his muscles around
Sam as the burn gave way to being utterly full and complete.
Hand sliding back to grip Dean's hip, Sam thrust all the way into his brother.
The way Dean's muscles clenched around him, the moans, the fucking gorgeous
sounds that were falling from his brother's lips sent Sam's control spinning
away. It was slow at first, almost tender, Sam's cock slid in to his brother,
slick and warm, then he moaned, he drew back then pushed forward. "Dean, it's
... fuck." Sam's voice was hardly above a whisper and his hips snapped forwards
as he loosened his grip on Dean's hip. "I can't..." Sam's hips started to rock,
forward and back, faster, thrusting hard into Dean's ass. It felt amazing;
better than anything else ever had. His brother just opened up to him, gave in
and Sam sank his teeth into Dean's shoulder as he reached around and ran his
thumb and fingers up and down his brother's weeping cock.
"Oh fuck Sam," Dean pressed up against Sam as much as possibly, as if he could
completely melt into him if he just tried hard enough. It felt like every part
of his body was sparking with electricity and he'd never been so intensely
aroused and close to the edge as he was in this moment. There was no way he was
going to last but his body thrummed with the idea of having more as soon as
they were able. "So close," he moaned loudly and dropped his hand down to his
crotch, twining his fingers with Sam's and curling them over his cock to make
the role reversal complete, an odd sense of wonderful irony and pleasure. "Need
it Sammy," he moaned once more and rolled his hips down into his brother's
hard.
Sam could feel his orgasm swelling deep within him, his rhythm faltered and his
hips rocked against his brother's ass. Stretching up he moaned against his
brother's ear, sucking his earlobe quickly then whispering, "come with me." It
felt like he was falling apart one thrust at a time, the heat, and the muscles
fluttering deep within his brother. Sam canted his hips, trying to find the
right angle to hit that pleasure center once more - send Dean over the edge
with him. "Gonna come..." he whispered, breath hot and moist against his
brother's ear. His hips snapped forward one last time, fingers twined with
Dean's still working his brother's cock; Sam's orgasm tore through him, rocking
his vision, every muscle tightening and each breath becoming a gasp as his cock
pulsed and throbbed.
The only thought Dean had before he came was how he wished he could feel his
brother's come filling him. Then he lost all control on his senses and his hips
jerked erratically up as his orgasm tore through him. His muscles clenched
tightly around Sam's cock as wave after wave of pleasure shot through him, eyes
slamming shut. "Sammy," he moaned loudly and finally collapsed back into Sam's
body, turning as much as he could to try and look at the pleasure on his face.
"Kiss me," he panted, pleaded, practically begged for his brother's lips.
Pushing up on his elbow Sam caught his brother's mouth with his. He moaned into
the kiss softly; mouth moving ceaselessly, tongue gliding over Dean's lips and
settling between them to slide inside his mouth once more. Sam's body moved
slowly against his brother's as he rode the waves of his release. Throat
feeling tight and chest aching Sam withdrew slowly from his brother broke the
kiss and buried his face in his brother's neck. Sam's arms snaked around Dean
and tightened; he never wanted to let him go again.
Wrapping his arms around him tightly, Dean smoothed a hand through Sam's hair,
pressing a kiss to his brother's temple. "God Sammy," he whispered, eyes
falling closed as he hummed pleasantly. His body felt like a weight had been
lifted, like he was suddenly a thousand times lighter. There was still a moment
in which is heart clenched but he shoved that away roughly. Right now he was
content on focusing on them and this moment. "That was amazing."
Nodding, not trusting his voice Sam rolled onto his back, pulled the condom
off, knotted it and dropped it on the floor. He grabbed Dean, pulling him over
onto his chest willing him to hear all the things his heart was beating out.
Burying his nose in his brother's hair he breathed in deeply and then let out a
long sigh.
Dean settled in along Sam's chest, shifting his head until his ear rested right
above Sam's heart. Fingers grazing his waistline, Dean murmured soft nothing's
for a few minutes before letting his eyes drift closed. "You'll stay with me?"
He asked quietly, wondering how Sam was feeling on the whole subject.
Sam hand curled up over Dean's neck. "M'not goin' anywhere," he murmured into
his brother's hair. Reaching down Sam grabbed the quilt and pulled it up over
them both. Smiling he felt Dean's body relaxing into him, just like he'd always
fit there. Never left.
Sam listened to his brother's breathing deepen and even out as time passed.
"Dean?" he whispered. Nothing. Sam shifted, kissed Dean's forehead and then got
comfortable. "Dean... I love you," he whispered to his sleeping brother. "I
always loved you. I know you're telling me the truth." Sam tightened his arm
around Dean's shoulders as his breath hitched in his chest. "D..Don't leave me
again, please..." his voice trailed away to nothing and he closed his eyes
against the ache of tears.
Not saying anything, Dean felt his heart kick start and he shifted slightly as
if he were really asleep. Not going anywhere, he thought and turned his head
into Sam's body, breathing in his scent until sleep really did pull him under.
***** Chapter 6 *****
When Dean woke he felt pleasant and more relaxed then he had in years, even
with the slight ache along his ass. He smiled down at Sam for a long while,
stroking a hand through his hair before shifting up to press a kiss to the side
of his mouth. Sliding off the bed silently, Dean stretched for a long minute
before padding to his dresser and pulling out a fresh pair of boxers. He didn't
know what time they would be getting on the road but figured they'd need a good
meal before the drive. Humming softly he headed to the kitchen, retrieving a
frying pan and a few eggs from the fridge. It had been years since he had the
opportunity to cook breakfast for someone and he couldn't help chuckling at how
very much he wanted to do exactly that.
The first thing Sam did when he woke up was reach out for Dean. It was bizarre.
Sam hadn't slept with anyone since his brother left - since his brother was
forced to leave. Listening intently he could hear Dean moving around in the
kitchen and he smiled. Sam never smiled before two cups of coffee and a few
lung fulls of fresh air. Groaning, he rolled over and stretched until he was
lying diagonally across the bed. He lay there a few minutes trying to let
everything sink in. Everything had changed so fast, one minute he'd been living
his life the way he always had; hunting, drinking, eating and sleeping like
usual. Now, here he was waking in his brother's bed.
Sam threw the covers back, tugged on his jeans and a t-shirt and padded out
into the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms
nervously. "Hey."
With a wide grin Dean turned to Sam and crossed the kitchen, stopping in front
of him and leaning up to brush their lips together. "Hey," he said softly and
trailed his hand down Sam's shirt. "You're way too over dressed for this party.
I'm making omelettes. Still like mushrooms in yours?" His grinned widened as he
rubbed his palm against the flat of Sam's belly.
Pressing his lips together Sam smiled, "yeah, mushrooms are good." He caught
Dean's hand with his and twined their fingers together. "When we leavin'?" He
could feel the anxiety building, the familiar itch he felt in his bones when it
was time to hunt. The only difference was this time he was hunting the truth.
"Um... after breakfast?" Dean shrugged and stepped back into his brother, free
hand coming up to cup around his neck. "You still wanna ride in separate cars?
I'll need to check mine over first, make sure I'm good on oil and air in the
tires before a road trip." He laced Sam's hair through his fingers, stroking
soothingly.
"We can take mine." Sam side-stepped away from his brother and walked further
into the kitchen. "Did you make coffee? I could use some." Sam's head was
pounding and he wasn't looking forward to the drive. Hours in the car. He
massaged the back of his neck and arched his back to stretch it out some more.
Hand hovering in mid air for a moment, Dean blinked a few times before slowly
letting his arm fall and clearing his throat. "Yeah, other side of the fridge
is the pot. Mugs in the cabinet above," he shifted back to the cutting board
and began slicing up mushrooms. "Not sure how you take yours but sugars along
the wall and creams in the fridge."
Sam moved about making himself a coffee and took a few a few sips. "S'good," he
mumbled. "You nervous?" Sam sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm nervous." He took
another sip of coffee. "I'm really fuckin' nervous." Sam's gut was a mess. He
could feel the tension in every muscle in his body; He'd learned to have a
healthy respect for his Father over the years and he was pretty sure that none
of this talk was going to go well. "I'm worried about you... talkin' to Dad."
Sliding the mushrooms into the pan on top of the eggs, Dean nodded slowly and
sighed, not looking at Sam until the cutting board was back on the counter.
"I'm fucking terrified," Dean admitted quietly, swallowing hard. "Sam, he's not
going to be happy to see me. Especially not with you. And I... I've made my
peace with the fact that he wants nothing more to do with me but I can't
forgive him. I don't want him as part of my life," he dropped his eyes and
stepped toward his brother. "Whatever you decide to do... I won't force you.
But John Winchester will never be my father again, not in my eyes. So yeah...
it's pretty safe to say I'm nervous," he chuckled humourlessly and turned back
around to start chopping up peppers for the omelette.
Clearing his throat Sam looked up and waited until Dean looked over at him. "If
he ... if he hurts you'll I'll fuckin' kill him." Sam crossed his legs at the
ankle and leaned back on the counter. "You're not like you used to be, Dean.
Maybe I was wrong, maybe I should do this alone." Sam looked down at his coffee
mug.
"I think I need this," Dean said softly and turned to pour the peppers into the
omelette then flip it into the pan. Once the other side was cooking he turned
to Sam and crossed the kitchen, bracketing a let on either side of Sam's legs
and leaning into him. "Besides, if you think I'm letting you disappear from
sight now that I've found you again... you're crazy," he chuckled softly and
massaged his fingers into Sam's neck. "I don't think he'll try and hurt me with
you there. You've changed too, he can't use the same methods again," Dean
arched up to brush a kiss along Sam's lips before stepping back and turning to
the omelette on the stove, pulling up a plate.
Sam's shoulders dropped a little and he leaned back on the counter. "I'm not
gonna lea..." Dropping his eyes to the floor he shrugged. "You and I will stay
in touch... no matter what. Now, I mean." Sam's eyes darted up to Dean's face
trying to judge his reaction, "for the record."
Wetting his lips, Dean nodded and slid the omelette onto the plate. "So... you
think you'll get back on the road once this whole issue with John is...
addressed?" He glanced over at Sam before turning and holding out the plate.
"Here you go."
"Thanks." Sam's fingers brushed his brothers as he took the plate and it made
him smile the way it warmed his skin. "I don't know - hunting," he shrugged a
shoulder, "it's all I can do. Never even finished high school after you left.
I'm not like you, not good with people." He padded over to the table and sat
down watching his brother.
Filling up his mug with a second cup of coffee, Dean leaned back against the
counter and nodded slowly. "You could get your GED if you wanted. I could help
with that," he smiled softly before moving to the fridge for eggs from himself.
"I'm not going to force you into anything though. I know that's pretty much
impossible. But you'll always have a place here with me," he kept his eyes
fixed on the pan as he began scrambling some eggs.
Something hard pinched in Sam's heart. "You got a whole life here, don't wanna
wreck it." He shovelled some omelette into his mouth.
Dean waited until his eggs were finished, dumping them on a plate and carrying
them over with his mug. He dropped into the seat beside his brother and reached
out to lay his hand on Sam's arm. "Sammy, you are my life. Sure I have the
teaching thing but that's it. I don't have friends or anything like that. I
don't go out. If you asked me I'd leave this job in a heartbeat for you. So if
you were to come here... it would pretty much be the opposite of wrecking my
life," he smiled at Sam for a moment before turning to his food.
Pushing his plate back a little, Sam sat back on his chair. Turning his arm he
grabbed Dean's arm, hard. "I wish I was that guy, Dean. I really do." His
fingers rubbed Dean's arm as he stared at them. Closing his eyes Sam pulled
back and smiled, "one thing at a time."
Staring down at his plate, Dean nodded and pushed the food away. "I'm gonna go
shower. I'll probably be ready to go in about an hour," he smiled briefly at
Sam before pushing up and carrying his half eaten food back into the kitchen
and tossing it in the trash.
"Dean, I'm trying." Sam's eyes followed the tense line of his brother's back.
Last night everything had seemed a lot easier. He could tell by the way Dean
moved that he was hurt; Sam had never forgotten the subtle changes in Dean's
body as his moods changed. Pushing up from the table Sam was at Dean's back in
three long strides. "Listen to me." He leaned over his brother's shoulder, wide
hands sliding down Dean's arms to twine their fingers together. "Please, Dean,
I'm trying. It's been one day. I want to ... you're." My heart, you're my
heart. Sighing, Sam pressed his lips to his brother's shoulder. "Please..."
"I know Sam," Dean leaned back into his brother for a moment before turning and
curling his arms around Sam's body. "I know you need time. I'm trying to adjust
to all this too, so I get it. It's... harder than I thought it was going to
be," he sighed softly and pressed a kiss to Sam's neck before pulling back and
smiling softly. "I don't want you to feel pressured to make any sort of
decision. I mean it when I say I'll take what I can get, even if it is only
seeing you once or twice every few months. I'd be okay with whatever decision
you make." He let his fingers trace along Sam's cheek for a moment before
stepping in to slant their lips together.
It was easy to sink into the kiss this time. The warmth from their night
together washed through Sam quickly, taking him right back there and away from
all the worry darting through him. He moved his mouth over Dean's tugging the
man's hair back to deepen the kiss and try, desperately, to show Dean what he
couldn't say. His hand moved restlessly on Dean's back, down his side and
settled on his hip so he could curl his fingers over the waistband of his
boxers.
Crushing his body into Sam's, Dean clung to his brother, savouring this moment.
After a few minutes he broke back and grinned into the kiss, murmuring softly,
"Think we have time to take a shower together?" His hands traveled along the
length of Sam's body, down to ass and kneading softly as his hips rocked
forward to show his obvious interest.
"We can make time ... if you want..." Smiling warmly Sam could feel the heat
flooding through his body once more.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
Sliding behind the wheel of the Impala with Dean at his side was like a
sledgehammer to the side of Sam's head. Memories shot through him and for the
first time ever Sam found it difficult to relax behind the wheel. Even when the
road was stretched out in front of them, the time when Sam would usually flick
on the radio and find a blues station - he was tense. It wasn't one thing in
particular; it was everything. Glancing at Dean out the corner of his eye he
watched as his brother settled against the front seat. Dean's arm was slung out
the open window, his face hard to read except for the slightest tension at the
corner of his eyes. Sam huffed out a small laugh; speeding down the highway
straight toward the most hellish confrontation imaginable.
"This is crazy," Sam said. His left hand curled over the steering wheel and his
right slid along the back of the seat so his fingers could reach for those soft
curls. Sap.
Chuckling softly, Dean rolled his head toward Sam and shifted slightly on the
seat, closer to his brother. "I know. It's... something I never imagined," Dean
wet his lips and slid a little closer. "Can I... do you mind?" he gestured to
the side of Sam's body, wanting to find comfort in the warmth of Sam's body.
"You're such a girl." He slid his arm down over his brother's shoulder and
nodded.
"Not a girl," Dean mumbled even as he settled into Sam's side, draping an arm
across Sam's lap. "It feels weird... that I'm smaller then you," he chuckled,
curving his fingers into Sam's thigh. He turned into Sam's body, brushing his
lips along Sam's skin. "I can drive at any point, if you want."
"Okay, Dean?" Sam shifted his hips, "you can't do that if you're gonna sit
there - I'll drive into a tree or somethin'." Swallowing and blowing out a
breath Sam smiled and settled back in his seat. Okay, so it was really better
than awesome having Dean pressed up against his side. The way their bodies fit
together it was like they'd never been apart. "You remember, whatever you do to
me while I'm driving can bite you in the ass later when you're drivin'."
Laughing softly, Dean slid his hand up to Sam's chest, curving it into his
shirt. "I like how you smell," he buried his nose in Sam's neck and breathed
deeply. "Jesus I'm sappy sometimes," he laughed and curled his fingers around
Sam's neck. "Thank you," he whispered softly.
Frowning slightly Sam adjusted his hips again. Dean was gonna make this ride
long and uncomfortable, at least for certain parts of Sam. "For what?" He
leaned forward a little to check an upcoming sign.
Pulling back a little, Dean stared at Sam's profile with just the faintest hint
of a grin. "For letting me be here. For giving me a chance," he shrugged and
settled back into Sam's side, laying his head down on Sam's shoulder. "I know I
wouldn't be able to do this without you."
Feeling that familiar tug of hesitancy Sam huffed. "It's a road trip to see
Dad, not a marriage proposal Dean." But ... his fingers stayed right where they
were, moving through the silky hair at his brother's temple. Even if it were
just for a few days it was worth it and Sam knew that days didn't wipe away
years.
Laughing slightly, Dean patted Sam's chest and settled back. "Yeah, yeah... I
know, fuckin' sap," he shrugged and turned to starred out the windshield,
watching the miles blur passed. "So... when do you estimate us getting there?
Some time tomorrow?"
"Yup," Sam could feel his heart rate edging up just thinking about it. "I'll
text him tonight get details about where he is. Stuff like that. Do you
wonder?" He turned to look out the passenger window briefly and brushed his
lips against his brother's temple, "what will happen? How he'll react?" Sam
wondered. He'd been wondering nearly every damn minute since Dean found him. If
John had pulled a gun on Dean all those years ago - what would he do when he
saw his sons together again?
"Sometimes I get this flash of a moment when I'm outrageously terrified that
he'll kill me," Dean whispered and let his eyes slide close. "Are you going to
tell him I'm coming?"
"I won't let anything happen, and no, I'm not going to tell him." Sam's arm
slid down to tighten on Dean's shoulder. "He wouldn't stay to see you. Said
after what you did to me - leaving me - he'd never be in the same room as you
again." Sam's thoughts were racing through possible outcomes, and disasters.
"He won't hurt you."
"I know," Dean smiled softly and let his hand settle once more on Sam's thighs.
"I want a gun. I'm not going to do anything... I just need to have it, is that
okay? Can I borrow one?" He turned to gaze at Sam's profile. "I know you'll
have my back but... you get it right?"
"A gun," Sam repeated like he was trying to figure out what the word meant.
"Maybe that's not such a good idea Dean. You're out of practice - it's been a
long time and emotions are gonna be running high. You don't want to do
something you'll regret." He swallowed, hard.
Dean shifted back and looked at him, "I'm not out of practice Sam. I never let
myself get to that point because I know that supernatural crap is out there. I
just didn't bring any weapons because I only own one gun and that's in a safe
in my closet. I'm not going to shoot your father, but I'm not going to just sit
at the end of a gun again, I don't want him to have that leverage over me."
Sam stiffened, "he's our father and he won't pull a gun on us." He couldn't let
go of every little bit of faith and trust he had in his father. His Dad had
saved his ass on a lot of occasions, "you know regardless of why you left me.
It was Dad who picked up the pieces." He pulled his arm back and settled both
hands on the steering wheel.
Sliding across the seat, Dean shook his head and leaned heavily on the door.
"He pulled a gun on me," he said softly and turned his eyes out the window,
reaching up to lay his fingers on the window. "Jesus Sam he threatened to shoot
me in the leg and call the cops. He dug the barrel into my back. He may be
there for you, and he may have picked up your pieces, but he sure as hell tore
my life apart and set it on fire."
"Stop it." Sam's voice was soft and hard. "If that's what happened, he thought
he was protecting me... us," Sam knew it was what happened. He knew it. His
fingers reached out for Dean's hip, "you turned out good... can't have been
that bad." He cringed inside wondering why he couldn't just shut up sometimes.
Turning to Sam with a clenched jaw he shook his head roughly to the side.
"Damnit Sam, don't you even try to tell me what my life has been like. At least
you had someone to pick up your pieces. And if you think John's version of
protecting us was appropriate, the gun on my back, then clearly we have two
very different views on the world." He turned away from Sam a moment later and
rolled his body slightly away from him.
"I didn't say that." Sam's voice was cold.
Biting down on his lip roughly, Dean turned back to the window and curled his
arms across his chest; clenching his arm under his fingers. It was weird how
things between them could shift so suddenly. Every time Dean thought they might
be getting somewhere they were running straight up into a brick wall. AKA John
Winchester. Dean wasn't sure they could overcome this hurdle. At least he'd get
his closure with John and he wouldn't have to deal with that weight for the
rest of his life.
"D'you think he is who I wanted with me?" Sam's voice broke and he coughed to
try and hide the sound. "Do you think I'm okay, Dean? Do I seem okay to you?"
He rubbed furiously at the back of his neck. "I can't even talk to you without
hurting you and I lo..." Sam wrenched the steering wheel to the right, spinning
the tires on the shoulder and braking hard leaving them sitting in a cloud of
dust. Fumbling with his door handle, his hand slipped off it and he swore and
grabbed it again, swung the door open and got out.
Watching his brother for a moment Dean sighed and pushed open the passenger
door, climbing slowly after Sam. "Sammy," he said softly, walking in slow
steps, he eyed his brother, judging Sam's reactions to his movements. "You know
I would have had it any other way if I could have..." he rubbed his palm
against his thigh and closed the gap between them. "I know that this thing
between us, if there's anything... that it's going to take a hell of a lot of
time to get completely better and I don't think we'll ever be like we were
before. But that's okay. We'll get there," he pursed his lips and reached out
to lay his hand just barely on Sam's forearm.
Sam pulled away from Dean's touch, he was too close to falling apart completely
and every time Dean touched him it was like he was tearing the walls down. "If
there's anything?" Sam blinked as he thought about those words. It hadn't
occurred to him to think there wasn't. "You drive," Sam stalked back to the car
and slid into the passenger seat without uttering another word. He didn't want
to do it anymore: the aching, the misunderstanding, trying to be someone he'd
never been allowed to become.
Sighing softly, Dean dropped his head and stared down at the ground. He
shouldn't be here and they shouldn't be like this but Dean wasn't being given
much of a choice. Sam was complicated and broken and more cold then Dean could
even fathom and he wasn't sure if he had the strength to carry them through
him. A few minutes later he finally turned and walked quietly back to the car,
sliding behind the wheel and once more pulling the car back onto the road.
Parts of him just wanted to get to the next biggest town and catch a bus home.
It was bad enough he was driving toward the person who had ruined his life, add
with that a brother who was impossible to predict and Dean felt a little like
he was lost in the middle of the ocean. "I don't know what's going to happen
Sam," he said softly, eyes fixed ahead. "I'm scared to get my hopes up. Scared
to put too much pressure on you. If I had my way I'd be constantly telling you
how much I love you and want you and never want to spend another moment without
you but I don't want you to feel like I'm smothering you so what am I supposed
to do?"
Sam looked out the passenger window and let his head fall against it. "It's
okay, let's just go." He was going to have an ulcer by the time they arrived at
his Dad's motel room.
"Fine," Dean muttered and kept his eyes ahead as the car moved. Of course the
clenching in his heart was back, by this point he shouldn't even be surprised.
It was going to be a long drive and to think just minutes earlier he was curled
against Sam's side and thanking him. Tears stung along Dean's eyes and he
clenched his jaw, pressing his palm roughly into his eye to stop the flow.
Swearing under his breath, Sam somehow managed to shift around on the seat even
though he kicked the shit out of the dashboard; he shifted and twisted until he
could lay down with his head on Dean's lap. "I love you," he mumbled. "I know
I’m fucked up and I'm sorry." Rolling toward the seat back, he buried his face
in Dean's stomach and slid one arm behind him. "Don't wanna talk anymore," he
muttered against Dean's shirt.
Sucking in a sharp breath Dean let his hand fall to Sam's hair, sliding his
fingers through the silk. "I love you too Sammy," he whispered and let his lips
quirk up in a smile. He didn't add any more at his brother's wish, simply
stroked a hand through his hair and shifted back in the seat to get
comfortable.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
When they were approaching their father's hotel Sam sent a text message and
found out his father was, in fact, in the room. That was the first time he felt
like he was going to throw up. The brother's had fallen silent in the last leg
of the journey speaking only when they needed to. They didn't fight again,
there were no disagreements and Sam was never very far away from Dean. It was
better but then, they were quickly approaching another one of those
intersections life throws out every now and again.
The second time Sam felt like he was going to throw up was when they pulled up
just down the parking lot from their Dad's room and he turned off the engine.
The silence hissed in the car as their ears became accustomed to it. "So..."
Sam ran a hand through his hand and pulled the keys out of the ignition.
Turning to Sam, Dean slid across the seat and threw his arms around his brother
tightly, the shake in his shoulders intensified and he pulled in a quick breath
before sliding back. "I love you Sam. No matter what," he stared hard at his
brother, scratching at his jeans as a distraction point.
"It'll be okay." Sam reached out and cupped his brother's cheek, "I won't let
him hurt you ... or ..." he took a deep breath, "threaten you again. Trust me?"
He slid forward, lips almost against Dean's waiting for an answer.
"With my life," Dean whispered into the kiss and shifted in to seal their lips
the rest of the way, flickering his tongue forward along Sam's lips. "I'm
ready. Let's just do this and get it over with," he sighed shakily and, despite
his words, still clung to Sam.
Nodding, Sam held onto his brother for a few moments then kissed his hair and
breathed in that comfort from all those years ago. "Let's go," he pushed away
from Dean and climbed out of the car waiting until Dean caught up to him before
knocking on the door. Reaching back he touched Dean's hip and pushed him in
behind his back.
Sam heard a muffled yell for them to come in, glanced back over his shoulder
and opened the door. The room was dim in the early dusk. He heard Dean close
the door behind them.
John pushed up from the chair the instant he saw two figures in the doorway.
"Sam... what the fuck is he doing here?"
It was hard for Sam to even see, his blood was racing around in his body like
it was on fire. He squared his shoulders and held his hand out in front of
Dean. "I want you to tell us the truth."
Raising an eyebrow John turned and took a step toward the nightstand.
"Stay where you are Dad." Sam's voice was steady. This was his father. None-
the-less Sam's hand slipped to the small of his back where his hand gun was
tucked just in his jeans.
"Sam," Dean whispered softly, eyes flickering to the side to track his
brother's movements before turning back to John.
John's voice was deep and rolled out of his body, "get the fuck out of here
Dean." He stepped closer to the boys too shocked to even realize the full
implications of what was happening. His mind reeled at the site of his oldest
son ... ten years.
Curling his fingers around the grip of his gun Sam stepped back against Dean,
hand still held out. "Dad, I'm warning you. Stay there. Just talk," Sam's hand
was shaking, "what happened ten years ago Dad? Why don't I remember anything?
What did you do to Dean?"
John laughed, stopping for the moment, broadening his stance eyes locked on
Dean's. "What did you do you son of a bitch? You lie to your brother? Creating
stories to make yourself seem like the poor hard-done-by older brother?"
Sam stiffened.
"Don't waste your breath John," Dean said, voice cold and steady. "You don't
affect me anymore. You can't intimidate me," Dean reached out and, like a role
reversal from the last time the two of them stood before their father, curling
his finger in the back loop of Sam's jeans. "Stop lying and tell Sam the truth.
You owe him that."
"Sammy, you know I love you son. I wanna talk to you but I do not want him
anywhere near me." John turned to reach for his drink on the night stand.
Sam's hand whipped out and aimed the gun at his father. He steadied his aim
with his other hand. "I asked you not to move Dad."
John's blood ran cold. "How dare you... Dean," he laughed darkly, "I see you've
really gotten your brother worked up over things again." Making a point of
moving slowly John picked up his glass off the night stand. He tossed down the
rest of the drink and set the glass back down. "You fucking him again or has he
gotten too old for you now he's a man?"
"Fuck you," Dean spat, edging out from behind Sam. "Fuck you and all your self
righteous bullshit. Don't act like you’re some high and mighty being John,
you're not fooling anyone." His eyes narrowed. "Why don't you tell us about
that night? How did you get Sam out of the house? Because I remember what he
was like that night and I've always had this feeling he wasn't going to go
willingly." Dean glanced toward Sam, watching for any signs that he might do
something drastic, preparing himself to stop him if it came to that point.
Sam's brow furrowed as his brother's words started to sink in. "Why don't I
remember Dad?" The gun was steady, aimed at John's chest and Sam's heart had
settled into a strong rhythm. "Dean, stay behind me. Dad has a gun in a chest
holster, left side. Right Dad?"
John's features softened slightly, "Sammy, we've hunted together for a long
time. When did your brother find you?"
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Why would you even assume he was looking for me Dad? You
always told me Dean wanted nothing to do with me. Didn't you always tell me he
was ashamed of us? Ashamed of what he did? Why would you ask me that Dad?" He
licked his lips.
Dean slid behind Sam once more; stepping closer and laying his fingers in
comfort on the small of Sam's back, letting him know he was there for him. His
eyes narrowed on the man. His father who looked back at him with nothing by
loathing and disgust. Dean felt his stomach churn unpleasantly and he swallowed
hard.
John laughed again, long and hard shifting slowly toward the bed. "What the
hell, Sammy? Does it matter what happened? Obviously Dean's got what he wanted.
He's driven a wedge between you and I." John shrugged; he knew his youngest son
was smart. "You were fucked up when he left you Sammy. You were broken,
physically and mentally. I gave ... I gave you some drugs. Got you in the car.
That's all."
The gun wavered for a moment then Sam stepped closer to his father bringing the
barrel up to the level of his father's head. "You what?" His heart picked up
speed and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Everything in the room,
everything focused down to the words coming out of his father's mouth. He would
have fought to get to Dean. He would have.
"Sam," Dean stepped forward nervously. "Back here," he slid his fingers around
Sam's arms and glanced sharply at John when the man hissed. "Shut up John. You
just told your son that you drugged him, I don't think you have any room to be
saying anything right now." He squeezed Sam's arm softly, turning back to him.
"Sam, come on, let's just take a step back for a second okay?"
"Dean go back to the car." Sam's vision swam for a few moments until he blinked
away the tears in his eyes. "You lied to me for ten years Dad. Ten fucking
years." He stepped forward again bumping the barrel of the gun up against his
father's temple. "Dean wasn't lying, he never lied. It was you." Sam shoved to
gun forward.
"Sam," Dean stepped forward and slid his arm over Sam's, hand curling around
Sam's hand that was steady around the gun he held. He leaned forward to speak
softly into his brother's ear. "I know how bad this hurts but your mind isn't
in the right place right now. If you do this, you'll regret it later on. Let's
just go, please Sam." His free hand slid along Sam's back, rubbing in small
circles like he used to when Sam was really upset when he was younger.
"Listen to your brother Sammy." John pushed back against the muzzle of the gun
as his mouth twisted into a grin. "Dean always had your best interests at
heart, I'm sure." There was a dark glint in John's eyes.
"Dean shut up... get out - go to the car. I wanna hear him say it." Sam was
having trouble holding the gun steady. "I want to hear him admit what he did,
that he made you say those things to me. That you would have stayed with me."
Ignoring John for the moment, Dean ducked down and slid under Sam's arm,
pressing forward into him and curving his fingers around Sam's jaw. "You can't
kill him Sam. Trust me, more than anything I'd like him to pay for what he's
done but this isn't the way," turning to look over his shoulder, Dean narrowed
his eyes at John. "And you, shut the fuck up for a minute. You tell Sam the
truth and then we're going."
Leaning into his brother, shaking, Sam rested his chin against his brother's
hair. "I want him... to tell the truth."
John looked up at Sam, meeting his gaze. "What you wanna know how wrong I
thought it was? What he was doing to you Sam? You were a kid. Sixteen years old
Sammy. I am your father - I needed to keep you away from him. I did what I had
to do. Didn't hurt the son-of-a-bitch did I? I just needed him gone, needed you
to have a chance to be normal. I dare you to find someone who would say I did
the wrong thing. I fucking dare you." John's eyes were blazing.
Sam pushed against Dean trying to step forward.
"Hey," Dean forced the shake of his shoulders back and focused in on his
brother, curving his fingers around Sam's jaw once more and bringing their eyes
together. "I'm here now. We can go now and he can learn just how big of a
mistake he made," Dean slowly slid his hand back down Sam's arm, keeping his
brother's gaze fixed on Sam. "If you shoot him, someone will hear. The cops
will be called. It will ruin things for you and I know you Sam, no matter
what's changed. You'll never forgive yourself," his fingers grazed along the
gun, slowly working his brother's fingers from the weapon. Leaning forward, he
rested his forehead against Sam's and whispered, "I love you Sam. It's you and
me now. I'm not leaving you but you have to listen to me. Let me have the gun."
Dean curled his fingers around the barrel of the gun and slid his free hand
around the back of Sam's neck to massage gently.
"Let him have the gun, Sammy," John's voice was bitter and hard, "he'd never
have the balls to do anything with it. You think I can't get my gun out fast
enough to take your brother out? Should have done it ten years ago and stopped
all this shit from..."
Lip curling into a sneer, Dean tugged the gun the rest of the way out of Sam's
grip and spun it in his fingers, turning to John in a flash and driving the
butt of the gun hard into the side of his head. "For the record, the only
reason I'm stopping Sam from killing you is because I don't want him to go to
jail. If I knew how to dispose of a body properly I'd kill you myself you
fucking asshole." He pulled the gun back, aiming the barrel at John's head and
stepping back into Sam. "Now here's what's going to happen John. You're gonna
stay here and Sam and I are going to leave and you are never going to contact
Sam again. If you so much as show up in the same city as either of us I won't
stop him from doing whatever the fuck he wants and I'll be right by his side.
You understand me?"
John was leaning back on his hand where he'd fallen from the blow. "Get out of
my sight." He wiped at the blood trickling down from his forehead. "You're
makin' a big mistake Sammy." John shook his head slowly eyes locked with Sam's.
"I hate you," Sam whispered as his fingers curled through Dean's belt loop.
"Let's go," Dean pushed back into Sam, keeping the gun aimed at John just in
case he snapped into action. His head was pumping unpleasantly with adrenaline.
"Sam," he turned toward his brother, keeping the gun up even though his arm
started to shake. "I need to get out of here," he whispered, eyes darting up to
Sam pleadingly. He was quickly reaching his limits emotionally and physically
and if John said one more horrible thing about either of them it was going to
be Sam's turn to stop him from shooting the man.
Staggering back a few steps Sam tugged Dean back with him, fumbling for the
door knob and throwing the door open. As soon as he hit the fresh air Sam felt
like he was gonna pass out, he was shaking so bad he could barely walk to the
car. Stuffing his hands in his pockets Sam yanked the keys out and dropped them
twice trying to get in the car. "Dean?" He looked around frantically, "Dean?"
"Right here Sam," Dean walked swiftly to the passenger side and tugged on the
door. "We gotta get out of here before he changes his mind and doesn't let us
go," he glanced behind him. "I need to get somewhere that we can just be for
awhile," he whispered, eyes lifting to his brother, stinging with unshed tears.
Sam wasn't even sure how he made it along the road without hitting anything but
soon he managed to pull into a motel off a side road where they could stop to
try and breathe, try and get themselves back in control. On autopilot Sam
dropped Dean off at the office and drove around the back of the motel to hide
the car although he knew his father wouldn't come after them. John was done. By
the time Sam had locked up the car and moved walked around to the front of the
motel with their bags Dean had a room key and was waiting for him restlessly by
an open door. Sam moved quickly and brushed past Dean into the room and dropped
the bags just inside the room.
Dean's mind was still racing as he followed Sam into the room and shut the door
behind him. His eyes were fixed on Sam, watching his expression and the tension
stiffening his body. "Sammy..." he whispered and stepped forward, reaching out
for him and waiting to make sure it was what Sam wanted. He knew he was
practically desperate to cling to his brother and shove the whole horrible
afternoon away.
Stumbling forward Sam grabbed onto Dean burying his face in his brother's neck.
"I'm so sorry," he sobbed, "I believed you ... I know you'll never think that
now because I didn't say it. I did," he dragged in a huge lung full of air, "I
swear I believed you, I'm so sor..." his voice caught and he sobbed out a
groan.
"Shh Sammy, it's okay," Dean squeezed him tight before pulling his head up and
forcing their eyes to meet. "I heard you last night. I wasn't asleep Sam. I
know you believed me," he smiled softly before stepping in once more and
clinging to him. After a moment he pushed them back onto the bed, spreading out
to hold Sam against his chest. "I love you Sammy."
Sam couldn't come up with anymore words and he figured that was probably okay.
He just held on to Dean struggling up through the craziness to try and find his
way back to that place where things were okay once upon a time. For a while Sam
just tried to breathe and then he wanted his mouth all over his brother's face,
his neck his lips. He wanted to feel Dean, know that his brother was real, know
that they were okay and alive for a few minutes.
Pulling in a slow breath, Dean's eyes flickered closed as Sam's lips slid
across his skin. The touch was warm, comforting even if Sam was simply trying
to get comfort. Just to know that they'd faced John, that the truth was out
there and now they had the chance to start over. Things would never be like
they had been before but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He turned his
face and caught Sam's lips, letting them slide together in a long, gentle
motion.
Exhausted, bone-tired and drained, Sam pulled back a little and ran his hand
over his brother's hair. "I need... to sleep." He shoved his hands under his
brother's jacket and pushed it off then tugged him up by the material so they
were both sitting on the edge of the bed. Eyes heavy, Sam helped Dean out of
his jacket then slid his hands under his brother's shirt and pulled it up over
his head. He motioned for Dean to stand up.
With a very faint smile Dean pushed up and reached out for Sam, dipping down to
push at Sam's coat then work at the buttons. As Sam was slipping out his coat
and shirt, Dean undid his button and zipper. "You stand too, pants off," he
tugged Sam toward him, wiggling his hips to get the denim to fall below his
waist.
Standing Sam leaned heavily against his brother for a few moments then shifted
to get out of his jeans. "C'mon..." he tugged at the covers and got into the
bed reaching out for Dean's hand and pulling him down.
Climbing into the bed beside Sam, Dean snuggled in beside him and settled an
arm over his chest. "Night," he said softly, settling his hand in Sam's hair.
***** Chapter 7 *****
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
"Man I never thought I'd be so happy to see this place," Dean muttered as they
stepped into his apartment. He adjusted the strap on his bag for a moment
before chucking it toward his bedroom. He'd go through it later. Right now he
wanted a beer, Sam in his bed, and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.
"Beer?" He asked over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen, tugging open
the fridge and pulling out a couple beers.
"No thanks, I'm gonna be driving." Sam shifted nervously by the door.
Dean's shoulders stiffened and he stood slowly, staring at the fridge for a
minute before turning to Sam. "Driving?" He asked slowly, the word settled low
in the pit of his stomach and he stepped back toward the wall. "You're...
leaving."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets Sam leaned back against the door and let out
a sigh. "I need ... I need to get back to where I work right. Find out..." Sam
blinked a few times as his shoulders sagged. "I was okay before, hunting and
I'm not okay now. I need to be okay. My mind... my head - it's all fucked up."
He looked up at his brother's green eyes - God why did they have to show
everything he was thinking?
"I'm not enough to make things right?" Dean asked softly, falling heavily back
against the wall. He felt like an idiot. For thinking that they were just going
to be okay, for thinking that Sam would even want to stay after everything.
He'd practically been saying it the entire time. Tears pricked along his eyes
and he let his eyes fall to the floor, hand coming up to rub at his heart that
suddenly ached worse than he ever remembered feeling. "Will you come back to
me?" He lifted watery eyes up to Sam, letting the burn of tears trail down his
cheeks. "Will I ever get to see you again?"
Sam took a couple of steps forward then stopped, not knowing if he could still
leave if he touched his brother. "I'll try." Yanking his hands out of his
pockets Sam ran one of them through his hair. "I promise I'll try but you...
you should have someone who's a whole person. Someone who's not all smashed up
inside." His fingers twitched at his thigh.
Dean pushed off the wall and walked swiftly to Sam, almost collapsing into his
body. "I don't care Sam. I want you. Even if that means you're all smashed," he
curled his fingers in Sam's shirt and buried his head into his shoulder, lungs
clenching with a tight sob. "I love you. I thought that was enough. I thought
you wanted me," Dean straightened slightly, searching his brother's face. "How
am I supposed to let you walk out that door without knowing if you're coming
back or not? How am I supposed to keep going after that?" Dean could feel the
collar of his shirt beginning to grow damp from the force of his tears but he
didn't swipe at them, just tightened his fingers in Sam's shirt and tried to
keep his legs from giving out.
Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth Sam closed his eyes. He could feel his
pulse throbbing in his temples, he ached everywhere and he was so tired.
"Don't..." his hands curled around Dean's shoulders and pushed him back just a
little. "You'll be fine - I'm just gonna... I gotta be by myself." He drew in a
big breath. "I can be okay sometimes, by myself you know? I fucked everything
up, Dean and I need to figure out how to live with that." Lifting his hand he
rubbed the backs of his fingers across Dean's cheek. "I do love you. So much it
hurts."
Collapsing onto the floor, Dean pulled in deep breaths, trying to gain some
control over himself. He wrapped his arms around Sam's legs and buried himself
in the denim. "Then don't go. Please don't go Sammy. I don't want to live
without you anymore. I can be whatever you want. You don't even have to live
here," he sobbed around the words, not even sure if they made sense to Sam but
pressing on regardless. "Or I can go with you. I'll give it all up. I'll hunt
with you and-and you can drive all the time and I'll do whatever you want.
Please," he hiccupped on the last word and rocked forward to cling to Sam as
tight as he possibly could.
"Jesus Christ," Sam could feel panic crawling up his throat as tears welled up
in his eyes. "This isn't fair," he murmured as he tried to step out of Dean's
grasp. "I.. I...I told you the truth all along. I never lied. I said... I said
I wasn't okay." He stumbled and fell backwards wrist cracking hard against the
floor and pulling a pained grunt out of him. "Dean! Fuck, let me fuckin' go!"
He kicked his legs and shifted back. The worst part, the absolutely fucking
worst thing was that it would have been Sam. Ten years ago - on the floor - if
his father hadn't stood between them; if Dean hadn't said the words that froze
Sam to the spot he knew that he would have been the one clinging to his
brother. He knew exactly what Dean was feeling - knew exactly what it was like
to have your insides split apart when someone was torn away from you and still,
there was nothing Sam could do. It was too much.
Sliding back against the floor as far as he could get before bumping into the
wall, Dean curled his legs into himself and shook from the force of rejection
and pain rocking through him. After a few minutes, when he finally felt like he
could get his throat into gear, he whispered, "Then just go." He wished he
could blame this on someone, wished John was here holding a gun to Sam to make
him leave so Dean wouldn't feel so much like he was just unwanted. Ten years
thinking about finding Sam again and in the end he still didn't get to be with
him. He was going to be alone all over again and this time there would be no
one to search for. "If you're leaving, go. I can't take this anymore." He
curled his fist into his chest as if that would hold his heart together when it
was already too late.
Sam's lip trembled and his bit down on it hard, frowning through his tears. "So
that's it."
Forcing himself to look up at his brother, Dean's voice shook as he pushed out
words, "You're the one leaving. I'll be here. And I'll still be waiting because
you're the only person I ever loved and will ever love."
Staring at Dean for a few moments Sam sniffed, wiped at his face then turned
and walked back toward the door. "I love you," he said and walked out closing
the door quietly behind him.
For a minute or two Dean allowed himself to hold on to some little hope that
Sam would change his mind. He started counting slowly in his head, counting the
dull beats of his heart until he reached a hundred. Then he surged up off the
floor and yanked open the door, darting as fast as he could to the parking lot.
The spot that his brother's car had been in was empty and he stared at it with
cold, hard realization. Sam had actually left. Choking on another sob he
collapsed down onto the hard, unforgiving asphalt and thought how, for the
second time in his life, the only comfort he had was solid tar keeping him
grounded. Dean had no idea how much time had passed before he stood; only that
it was raining now and he was shivering uncontrollably and he was, once again,
completely alone.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
It was Saturday before Dean managed to drag himself out of his bed. Considering
they'd returned home on a Thursday, Dean thought two days wasn't that bad. Even
if only got up to eat something because the sheer lack of food he'd had over
the past two days was finally trumping his lack of appetite. Every sound from
outside had his heart racing a little, his eyes shifting to the door, thinking
maybe Sam had come back. The real kicker was he'd take Sam back in a heartbeat
if the man showed up at his door. Dean supposed it would always be that way.
Maybe he was some sort of glutton for heart break.
There wasn't much else to do but try and keep living, which took about as much
energy as he had. Thoughts like moving away, disappearing so Sam could never
find him, never even entered his mind. He hadn't been lying when he told Sam
he'd be here. He'd wait until the end of his days if that's what it took. On
Monday he considered starting up his computer to run a trace to try and find
Sam but he knew it was pointless. His brother didn't want to be found. He
didn't even leave a phone number.
Dean went back to teaching though he knew his students could tell he had
changed, shifted. He found it almost impossible to smile and the ones he did
manage were so forced it practically hurt. Even his fellow teachers seemed to
notice and Dean went from being the cool, fun teacher, to being the dark and
mysterious one with something so clearly broken in him it was almost tangible.
As the days shifted to weeks he began reading. Learning. Studying on subjects
so that he might slowly shift away from teaching mythology. It hurt too much to
talk about supernatural beings, knowing his brother was out there dealing with
them on a daily basis, hunting them because it was the only thing that made him
feel okay. Since all his free time was spent reading and studying, Dean didn't
have that much time to dwell. Not until the lights were out and he stared at
the ceiling, desperately searching for answers in the white non-patterns.
Two months after Sam left, two months after his heart had once more been ripped
from his chest, Dean scheduled an appointment with the dean of the school. It
took a fair bit of negotiating but he managed to convince the main to give him
strictly literature subjects to teach the following semester. It was all
fiction based classes, which appealed most to him, and Dean let himself be
consumed with the words. Living someone else's life for awhile was a lot easier
then living with the empty hollow shell that was himself.
Through the first half of the next year he began a collection of those books,
buying a large bookshelf and filling it with book after book. Every time he
added one to the collection he wondered what Sam would think if he ever
returned. He'd probably just assume he still didn't know his brother and that
they'd never work. Dean hated the fact that he had to keep going when it felt
like there was nothing to keep going for.
The morning of Sam's twenty seventh birthday Dean stared at the calendar for a
long time. It was the only date marked on all the pages. Just a simply little S
with a heart beside it and it brought familiar tears to his eyes. Excluding one
little rocky week of feeling something, Dean had been alone for eleven years.
And counting.
Summer break was coming up so he began hording books, buying them in the dozens
and filling up his schedule with the plan to read. Read as much as possible and
teach two summer courses on mid century British literature. His ears still
quirked at the sound of an engine outside but he stopped looking at the door
with hope. There wasn't much point to that any more. Dean simply had no choice
but to keep going, even as the semester ended and he faced the daunting idea of
spending most days alone in his apartment.
So, he got a dog. It seemed like an odd decision after the fact and he hadn't
even planned on it but the old man down the hall - that he'd only seen on a few
occasions - passed away and his granddaughter couldn't take the mutt with her.
The dog, who was named Buster, was already accustomed to sitting on his
master's lap and laying contently there for hours on end so they got along
pretty well. And though he wasn't much in the way of company, Dean didn't feel
quite as alone with another heart beat in the small space so it was something.
And he enjoyed the warmth of the animal on his lap as he read, occasionally
making comments aloud that only sometimes had his brother's name attached.
[http://pics.livejournal.com/cha/pic/0026c8fd]
Sam sat in the car and held his phone in his hand, flipping it over and over,
staring down at the screen. He had looked at Dean's number a lot, worrying,
hoping that if he ever used it that it would still be the same; there would
still be a voice on the other end of the line. The thing was, Sam didn't know
what to say. It had been so long and even though Sam had ached every moment he
had to keep driving. For now, the hunting was over and Sam wanted to go home.
He just wasn't sure if home would still be there. Sam wasn't even sure he knew
how long it had been since he'd last parked in front of his brother's home.
At first he tried to count the days but it hurt too much and made him entirely
too aware of what he had done to Dean. Counting hunts worked for a while but
Sam lost track, after all, that was the point. Sam was trying to lose track of
himself again. The problem was Sam could never drive fast enough to get away
from himself.
He knew the seasons had changed a few times since he left Dean. He knew that
he'd done two oil changes on the car, put a few thousand extra miles on her and
changed most of the belts. And then, Sam got in over his head on a hunt. The
thing was, it wasn't some supernatural creature. He was hunting what he thought
was some malevolent sprit and it was a big guy with a sick mind and a lot of
weapons. Sam found himself at one in the morning caught in a headlock with a
knife at his throat. He didn't know what happened. The universe? Fate? Some
fucked up sense of justice or balance? Maybe Sam had actually spent enough time
torturing himself and someone noticed. When he woke up with a gash on his
throat and missing quite a bit of blood something changed inside him. Something
big changed. It sounded stupid in his own mind but Sam needed to get back to
his brother; he needed to tell Dean that he had made a lot of mistakes. He
needed to tell his brother that he wasn't going to be okay on the road.
He stood in front of Dean's door for a full ten minutes before he had the
courage to actually knock on the door. As he waited, his fingers drifted up the
ragged scar on his neck.
Dean had been in the middle of Jane Eyre, which was an odd favourite of his,
when the knock sounded and echoed through the apartment he looked up, heart
dipping oddly. No one ever came to see him. Buster shifted up, tail thumping
with curiosity and Dean pushed him gently before he stood and walked slowly
toward the door. His hand rested on the lock for a moment before he turned it
painfully slow and curled his fingers around the door knob. Pulling it open,
his heart literally flipped upside down as he stared up at his brother. It was
a Wednesday, just an average middle of the week day in the beginning of June
and here was Sam. Blinking a few times, he stepped back, opening the door wider
and granting his brother silent entry. He didn't even know if he could get his
mouth to form his name but his thoughts were sure pounding it over and over.
The pain in Sam's chest went away the instant he saw his brother's face. He
blinked a few times, trying to smile and failing miserably. He slipped inside
the door and pushed it closed behind him. His hand moved out so he could brush
his fingers against the back of Dean's hand. He still hadn't managed to find
the right words after all the time sitting in the car, the fact that he was
standing in front of his brother just made it feel like he's wasted so much
time getting there. "Dean," his voice was barely above a whisper and he could
feel tears prickling behind his eyes, "I..." he swallowed again as his head
dipped down and he struggled to get the words out, "I wanna come home." Tears
started to fall down his cheeks and he gasped in a breath and hoped with
everything he had that he hadn't waited too long.
"Sammy," Dean whispered in surprise before stepping forward and throwing his
arms around him. He'd waited so long to hear those words and he thought they'd
never come. His hands went almost instantly to Sam's hair, twining in the only
vaguely familiar silky feel. "God I've been waiting so long..." his knees
dipped slightly and he stepped back, swiping the tears from Sam's cheeks.
"Do... you want something to drink? Wanna sit? Come sit," he tugged Sam toward
the couch and pushed Buster aside, yanking at his arm to get him down on the
sofa because he was fairly certain his body was about to give up the ability to
stand.
Sam sniffed and wiped at his eyes, "you got a dog." Blinking his eyes a few
times he leaned down and held out his hand, "hey buddy." The little dog sniffed
at his fingers then licked his hand and Sam smiled and scratched him behind the
ears. "I can't believe you got a dog." Leaning back slowly Sam settled against
the back of the couch. Fingers curling into his thighs he ran his tongue along
the front of his teeth and stared ahead; he was terrified to look at his
brother. "I owe you an apology." Finally, words that were easy to say.
Swallowing hard for a few minutes Dean shifted on the couch and let his eyes
drag along Sam's body. "Buster. He was my neighbor's dog," he informed slowly
then pulled in a deep breath and settled his eyes on Sam's face. His gazed
fixed on the scar and he frowned, leaning forward to run his fingers along his
neck. "Jesus Sammy what happened?" He tilted Sam's head back to get a better
look, frown deepening in concern.
"Made a mistake." Sam cleared his throat and turned to face Dean, taking his
hand quickly like he was terrified Dean was going to disappear. "Listen, I
gotta say this." He lifted his head and peered at his brother from under his
hair, "I treated you like hell. I know that." He gritted his teeth for a
second, knee bouncing as he tried to stay in control of his emotions. A few
deep breaths later he went on, "I know that the way I left here," he looked
down at his brother's hand held so tightly in his, "I don't deserve to come
back. I know that." A single tear rolled down his cheek and Sam squeezed his
eyes shut. "I just wanted to come and tell you that I realized what I did was
wrong and ..." he let out a shuddering breath and just sat there trying not to
shake.
"Sam..." Dean whispered and shifted forward, squeezing Sam's hand in his own.
"I'm not gonna lie. You hurt me, really bad. But... I told you then I would
continue to wait and I have." He leaned forward and let his cheek rest against
Sam's, breathing deeply. "I still want you Sam. I still need you. But I can't
do this again unless I know it's for real. I need to know that you're not going
to leave me again because I can't go through that again... I can't handle being
broken apart again." He pulled back to meet Sam's eyes, searching them
curiously. "Can you promise me that?"
"I promise. Dean, I promise and if I have to, if you need me to," he rushed out
swallowing around the lump in his throat, "I'll go ... and I'll wait." He lost
the battle to hold his tears back. He gasped in a breath and curled his fingers
over Dean's thigh, "if I have to I'll wait however long it takes to earn your
trust." He was having trouble catching his breath and wiped his face again with
his sleeve. "God, I'm so sorry," his head fell and he sobbed, shaking and
clinging to Dean's hand.
Shifting onto Sam's lap, throwing a leg over his thighs, Dean slid as close to
Sam as he could get, melding their bodies together and holding him close. "I
don't need to wait Sam. I believe you," he whispered and rocked Sam against his
body, pulling him back to press kisses along Sam's tear stained cheeks. "It's
okay. I'm here and you're here and we can start new. You, me and Buster." He
grinned softly down at Sam, not even noticing his own tears because the feeling
of joy was a thousand times better than anything he could remember feeling in a
very long time.
Dean's lips were right there and Sam didn't want to wait. Pressing up against
Dean's body he brushed their lips together feeling almost shy, nervous. Then
the heat flooded through him like always and the scent of Dean was all around
him. Sam's hands slid up his brother's back curling over Dean's shoulders and
crushing him against his own chest to deepen the kiss. Tongue sliding
tentatively along Dean's lips, slipping into his brother's mouth - Sam moaned.
God he'd missed this, missed Dean's body, his warmth, home. Lips sliding to the
side, Sam mouthed his way across his brothers cheek and whispered, "I want
you..." he kissed the patch of skin in front of his brother's ear, "it's all
I've thought about ... it aches..."
"Okay," Dean nodded and pushed up, tugging Sam off the couch. "Stay Buster," he
pointed at the dog before pulling Sam toward his room. His lips were tingling
pleasantly and heat shot through his body, anticipating what was to come. God
he couldn't believe how much he wanted Sam even if he was still trying to
figure out what exactly had happened. One minute he was living in his miserable
hollow shell and now he felt so full he was nearly bursting. "Jesus Sammy," he
spun Sam to the wall and pressed up against him, crashing their lips together.
"I love you," he murmured into the kiss and tugged at Sam's shirt.
Sam's breath was already coming in shallow gasps as he tore at Dean's shirt
trying to get it off. Flesh, he wanted his brother's skin next to his like all
those times he fell asleep without a care in the world. "I'm sorry," he moaned
into the kiss, tongue chasing his words, hands finally managing to find their
way under Dean's shirt. Sam sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as his
fingers dug into the muscle of his brother's back. Arms sliding up under his
brother's Sam nearly lifted Dean off the floor as he pushed him backwards
toward the bed. Stumbling forward they fell and Sam twisted to catch Dean's
body with his.
"Stop apologizing," Dean murmured and tugged at Sam's shirt, shoving him back
to rip at the material. "God Sammy I fucking want..." he hissed and dragged his
hands down Sam's chest. Thrill shot through him as he thought about how this
was just one night of many. They were just beginning this new life and Dean
knew, without even a moment of doubt, that Sam meant what he said. He could
feel it, in every rough touch and gently contrasting caress. "Off," he tugged
at Sam's pants, working the button and zipper. "Wait. Wait I have to know
something," he stepped back, pulling in a deep breath and letting his eyes
flicker along Sam's body.
Shaking his head slowly Sam looked up, "never, not another person since the
moment I left you here. I mean, if that's what..." blinking he could feel his
cheeks flushing as he looked up and met his brother's eyes, "and I got... I got
tested..."
Smiling brightly, Dean stepped in once more and tugged at Sam's pants. "Good.
That's... yeah. That's good. And yeah... what I want to know..." he worked the
button between his fingers and finished off the zipper. "So this means... we
don't have to use protection," he couldn't help chuckling slightly at that and
shaking his head. "That's really fucking good," he dragged Sam forward and
slanted their lips together, thrusting his tongue roughly into Sam's mouth as
he shoved down on his waist line, pushing the jeans down and stepping back.
"Guess you still have your shoes on huh?" He grinned at Sam and soaked in the
feeling of his heart racing pleasantly.
Smiling Sam kicked at his shoes until they fell on the floor. "Dean, there's
... there's something else." Sam licked his lips and sat down on the bed. Hands
slipping around Dean's waist, warm, soft skin, Sam tugged him forward. His
fingers slipped under his brother's waistband slightly and he pressed his lips
to Dean's belly.
Dean looked at Sam curiously, hips arching forward into Sam's touch. "What?" He
asked softly, hands sliding through Sam's hair as he stepped into his body.
Looking up, Sam dragged his lips up across Dean's abs. "I want you ... to ..."
Sam's eyes closed as the words locked up inside him. Blowing out a breath he
pressed his lips to the flesh in front of him, sucking, licking and moaned,
"like before, the way we did it the first time." Looking up again Sam's hands
moved over Dean's back as he watched his brother's face.
Moaning softly, Dean nodded, "Yeah. Okay." He swallowed a few times and stepped
back to make quick work of his pants and tug them down. "Jesus Sammy I want you
so bad it's driving me crazy," he chuckled and pushed Sam back on the bed,
waiting for him to shift back. He bent down, trailing his lips along Sam's legs
until he could curl his fingers in Sam's boxers and tug them down, tossing them
to the side. This time was likely to be over quickly but that was okay, they
had a fair amount of time to build up to more. He kissed his way the rest of
the way up Sam's body, riding himself of the rest of his clothes so he could
slid his flesh over Sam's and brush their lips together. "In the future, I'd
like it if we take turns. Yeah?" He grinned into the kiss, grazing his tongue
along Sam's lips.
Hiding his smile poorly Sam ran his rough palms down the length of his
brother's body. "You talk a lot during sex..." His smile broke out wide and
warm across his face. "Shut up," he murmured against Dean's mouth thrusting his
tongue past his brother's soft lips. He moaned softly and tightened his hold
across his brother's back rolling his hips up against Dean's. Hooking his leg
over his brother's Sam locked their bodies together. "Not letting you go," he
mumbled then nipped at Dean's bottom lip.
"Not planning on going," Dean returned and rocked his body forward. "Only kinda
gonna need to, move, eventually," he chuckled and shifted down to drop his head
into the crook of Sam's neck, sucking hard at his skin and bringing a bruise to
the surface, enjoying marking him. Knowing that Sam was his. He slid his hands
along Sam's body, touching every inch of skin he could reach. Pulling up, he
stared down into Sam's eyes, shifting forward to graze soft kisses along Sam's
face. "I'm so happy that you're here." Lifting up once more he smiled and shook
his head. "I know, I talk too much. Maybe you should make me shut up? That's
how this all started right? With me talking too much?"
"This is all your fault?" Sam grinned and slid his arms up so he could run a
hand up the back of Dean's neck. His long fingers curled around his brother's
neck, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly. "What will shut you up?" Sam
dragged his tongue along his brother's bottom lip then brushed his lips back
and forth softly over his brother's mouth. "Your mouth ... is ..." Groaning
loudly Sam pushed up off the mattress and flipped Dean onto his back and ran a
finger along the seam of his brother's lips. "Shhhhh," he grinned and pushed
his finger forward into the heat of his brother's mouth. Eyes widening as
Dean’s lips parted Sam moaned and dropped his mouth to his brother's chest.
Kissing and licking his way across Dean's chest Sam smiled as he felt the other
man's nipple harden under his touch. Sucking the hard nub of flesh into his
mouth he rolled it between his teeth feeling Dean's muscles ripple beneath him.
Dean mumbled around the finger in his mouth and shifted up into Sam's lips. His
mouth popped open with a gasp as his hand fell to Sam's shoulder and curled
around the muscle. "I'm sorry, I just can't help it," he chuckled and arched
his hips up. "My mouth just won't stop moving, Buster's not the best
conversationalist," he chuckled and pushed down on Sam's shoulder. "Maybe a
different technique? You may have to get creative." He lifted his head and
grinned down at his brother.
Laughing low and deep Sam kissed his way down his brother's body. His tongue
moved over the curves of Dean's muscles and tasted his sweat salty skin - all
so familiar. There was so much flesh to re-learn, slowly though, no rush, time.
For once, they had time. His tongue dipped into Dean's belly button, swirled
once then escaped to drag down the trail of soft hair on his belly. Crawling
further down his brother's body Sam felt the heat of his brother's swollen cock
dusting against the hair on his own chest and he moaned; he sank down onto
Dean's body, and slid until the stubble of his cheek rasped against the rigid
flesh.
With a soft moan Dean arched up into the touch and curled his fingers in Sam's
hair, tugging. "Sammy, I want... you. I want this. I don't know if I can wait,"
he wet his lips and gasped softly. "I want you," he bit his lip and lifted his
head to stare down into Sam's face. "Please?"
Sam's brow furrowed slightly, "okay... s'okay." Climbing back up the bed he lay
against Dean's side and rubbed a hand over his chest. "Whatever you want."
"The way I see it," Dean breathed and rolled to his side, brushing his lips
against Sam's and curling his hands along the flesh, dragging down to his
waist. "We have a long time to take it slow," he pushed at Sam, getting him to
roll over. He slid his finger forward, pressing it into Sam's mouth and
settling against his back, lips pressing to Sam's ear. "I'm going to enjoy
feeling every part of you. Tasting you. Making you taste me," he shifted his
finger in Sam's mouth and slipped in another one. "Right now though... I just
want to be in you. I need to feel us connected that way," he pulled his fingers
from Sam's mouth and dropped them low on Sam's body, parting his flesh and
seeking out tight muscles.
"Jesus, Dean..." Sam's ass pushed back against his brother's fingers.
Overwhelmed with so many things at once, Sam's heart was thumping almost out-
of-control. The deep rumble of Dean's voice against his back and the taste of
his brother's fingers and now, fuck, so many years. Sam's hips rolled and his
arched back as his eyes closed. "Dean..." he whispered, "shut up and fuck me."
Shivers of pleasure ran down his body and Sam stretched out luxuriously to his
full height, raising his arms up above his head and grabbing on to the wooden
slates in the headboard. There were so many things that Sam wanted, but right
now, he just wanted this ... to come full circle. Sam wanted to get back home.
"No lube," Dean leaned forward and sucked on a patch of Sam's skin. He did
press his spit slick fingers forward though, moaning softly when the heat of
Sam's body encased his fingers. "And you need preparation, wouldn't want to
hurt you." He worked his finger all the way in and rolled his hips forward,
desperate for some contact. "God you're so tight Sam," he whispered, shifting
his fingers to press another against the muscle, watching his brother's body to
make sure it was okay.
Sam shifted his body, twisting his spine a little and rocking his hips down
into the firm mattress underneath him. "Don't care..." Sam didn't care at all,
didn't care if it hurt or stung or burned or anything he vaguely remembered
from when he was a kid. "Do you remember?" His voice was thick like honey, the
words sticky and heavy, "how I fingered myself open," he moaned as Dean's
finger moved inside him, "for you when I was sixteen." It was clear and perfect
in his mind; perhaps the only day he'd hung on to for all those years. "I
wanted you so badly..." And he got his way. His body was in motion, hips
rolling, chest rising and falling. Even Sam's fingers curled and uncurled
around the wooden bars.
Moaning thickly, heat pulsing through his cock, Dean shifted forward and shoved
another finger inside Sam, working him quickly. "I remember," he gasped and
pulled his fingers out of Sam. "Jesus I need to be in you. Lube in your bag?"
He pressed into Sam's body and waited for his nod before jumping off the bed
and nearly darting out of the room. His eyes flickered to Buster on the couch
and he chuckled softly before kneeling by Sam's bag still by the door and
ripping through it. A moment later he was rushing back to the bedroom and
slamming the door shut, hopping onto the bed and grinning at Sam. "Miss me?" He
laughed and held out the bottle. "Wanna do the honours?"
Rolling over Sam grabbed the bottle, "if it'll shut you up," he muttered with a
smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He squirted a generous amount of
lube into his palm and reached out to slide his hand up Dean's cock quickly
then twisted his wrist and tugged slightly. "Good?" he murmured as he watched
his fingers moving against the red and swollen shaft. Running his thumbnail
around the head of Dean's cock - Sam smirked up at him. "You wanna talk some
more?"
Shaking his head slowly from side Dean reached out and pushed at Sam, urging
him onto his side. It seemed to be the position between them, the one at the
beginnings of each of their too brief encounters. Dean thought it was fitting,
to be like this, this time. He settled in behind Sam and curved his fingers
over his brother's hip for a moment, massaging gently. Then he was lining up,
finding the best angle and pushing forward, sliding a few centimetres in and
groaning. His head buried into Sam's shoulder, teeth grazing along his flesh as
his arm wrapped around his waist and brought him down the rest of the way in
one quick slide.
The breath left Sam's body all at once and he reached back to grab his
brother's hip, "stay still," he whispered. Fuck it burned, ached, hurt, and Sam
had never felt anything better in his entire life. "Stay with me," he murmured,
lost in his thoughts somewhere so many years ago. Dean's heat was overwhelming,
perfect, and Sam's heart beat steadily as his breathing evened out again. As
his body adjusted he moaned softly, the quietest sound and rolled his hips
forwards then sank back again on Dean's cock.
"Sammy," he whispered and moaned loud a moment later as his body surged with
the pleasure of Sam's movement. Shifting his body back slightly, Dean curled
his fingers into Sam's abs, pressing down into the muscle so he could bring Sam
back down onto him. His body shook with pleasure and he needed to move or stay
completely still and remember this forever, he couldn't tell which seemed more
important. So he kept his hips rocking in a gentle motion, letting Sam do the
good majority of the rocking and pressing a kiss into Sam's back.
Dean's body was hot and damp with sweat and Sam could feel him all the way down
his back. He couldn't stop the back and forth of his hips or the way his
fingers dug hard into Dean's hip. Thinking about his fingers bruising the
sensitive skin of his brother's flesh made his cock swell even more. It had
been so long, no human touch since Dean's hands were on him last. Sam wanted to
come, wanted that shot of adrenaline and pleasure, wanted it while Dean was
fucking into him and holding him so close. "Dean... please, more." Barely above
a whisper but they were so close, Dean could hear - he could surely feel the
want in Sam's body, hear it in his brother's plea. Thrusting back towards Dean,
drawing his brother's cock deep inside him Sam groaned and slammed his hand
down on the mattress pulling up the sheet in his fist.
"Roll over," Dean shifted and rolled his brother over, falling between his
legs. He enjoyed their side to side steadiness but right now they both needed
fucking and they weren't going to last long anyway. He fell between Sam's legs
and dug his fingers into the man's hips, dragging him up to get the best angle
to slide down all the way. Pulling back, he let the tip of his cock circle
around Sam's entrance, he moaned softly then slammed roughly back in, keeping
up the brutal pace and snaking an arm around Sam's body to stroke quickly at
his cock, twisting his wrist and squeezing to urge him along.
All Sam knew was he wanted, he had wanted forever and for once there was a way
to get what he wanted. His heart swelled up in his chest as his orgasm started
to tighten up within his body like a coil. Dean's thrusts were hard and fast
but his grip on Sam's cock was perfect. Sam's hips bucked wildly as he thrust
into the tight fist. He could hear the noises he was making and feel the rough
cotton rasping against his cheek as Dean's body pressed him down further and
further into the mattress. "Dean... I can't hold..." Fire flooded through Sam's
body as he came. Pulse after tight pulse and Sam found his release; he could
feel himself clenching around his brother's shaft; feel Dean's heat. "Fuck," he
whispered as he dragged some air back into his lungs.
Dean had always been thrust passed the point of control when Sam came apart at
his hand and this time was no different. He pumped his release into Sam,
groaning as the man's muscles gripped so tight around him it burned. His hips
slowed as the pleasure sent shockwaves through him until he was collapsing on
Sam's back then down onto the mattress, pulling out with a moan. "Fuck," he
agreed and instantly tugged Sam into, needing that closeness. "Better then I
remembered."
Sam's pleasure was still coursing through his body as he rolled over to face
his brother and pressed up against him. "The same as I remembered," he grinned
and sucked on Dean's neck for a few moments, warming the skin with the blood
below. Shifting so he could rest his cheek on the pillow Sam slid his fingers
through Dean's hair, "I need to know something."
Leaning into Sam's touch, Dean smiled softly, "What's that?"
"Do you forgive me?" Sam smiled slightly as his fingers ran over his brother's
hair and down his neck to those soft curls.
Smiling shifting into a bright grin, Dean settled closer to Sam and nodded,
"Yeah. I do." He brushed their lips together and draped an arm across his
chest. "It's nice to know that we have forever now."
Sam pressed his lips to his brother's even as he smiled. "Thanks for waiting...
I guess I'd better make it all worth it."
"I think you will," Dean chuckled and let his eyes slid shut, drifting off to
sleep in the only place he'd ever want to be.
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