Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6999481.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Pirates_of_the_Caribbean_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Jack_Sparrow/Bootstrap_Bill_Turner
  Character:
      Will_Turner's_Mother, Bootstrap_Bill_Turner, Jack_Sparrow
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-07-05 Words: 1854
****** The Hunter and the Prey ******
by naotalba
Summary
     Mrs. William Turner knows a thing or two about about being pursued by
     her husband.
Notes
     This is for
     [http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/userinfo.gif?v=17080?v=138.4]
p0wdermonkey as a reward for her participation in the Bribes_for_Concrit
request.
Beta: [http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/
userinfo.gif?v=17080?v=138.4]justawench, who is amazing, by the way.
Thanks also to [http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/
userinfo.gif?v=17080?v=138.4]teenybuffalo for concrit on [http://l-
stat.livejournal.net/img/community.gif?v=556?v=138.4]rough_magic. Remaining
errors are mine.
See the end of the work for more notes
Bill never understood that it was harder to be the seduced than the seducer.
Kay had led him on a merry chase for months; Bill was utterly shocked when she
admitted that she had planned to marry him years before he looked in her
direction. But Kay knew that if she had come out and told him she was
interested, he would have avoided her entirely, or worse yet, gone for a quick
tumble and then back to sea, never to be seen again.
When Kay finally admitted to her scheming, he had chuckled, that unfamiliar
noise she heard so rarely, and called her names, temptress, seductress, wicked
wanton. She had thrown a pillow, laughed, and explained. Men don't want to know
that the lady is interested; they want to hunt, to succeed against the odds.
And sometimes it is very hard to sit back and be prey.
In the end, her plan had succeeded, not that it stopped him from returning to
sea. At least this way, she got the occasional letter, and better yet, visits
home once a year or so. It wasn't until his third visit after their marriage
that Bill was comfortable enough with her to tell her true stories of his
adventures, and even then, she suspected they were heavily edited. She filled
in the blanks in her own mind, hiding the smile at the innocence Bill supposed
she still possessed after four years of marriage.
Bill swore he missed Kay every single minute he was away from home, missed her
and thought about her and told her stories in his head and tried to save them
away to remember for her when he was in port again. Kay believed him, but
didn't think or even hope that she was the only one in his thoughts. She had
little Will, and he was her world when Bill was out to sea; she expected that
Bill occupied himself differently. Her father was a sailor, and her grandfather
before him; Kay knew what a small place a wife held in a sailor's life, and
enjoyed her place without trying to exceed it.
Once Will was kissed and petted and sent off to his aunt's, Kay got to enjoy
her husband's company once more. Afterwards, they lay curled together, and
quiet Bill spilled his stories he'd saved, his voice rough with talking so much
more than he was accustomed to.
Bill told her the story of a new cabin boy, slender and coiled as rope. He
annoyed the crew with birdlike movements, poking his nose into everything until
he answered as readily to "Sparrow" as to his name. He claimed to be lately the
captain of the Barnacle, and it was a sure thing that he at least believed it,
for all he was 15 or 16 years old.
Kay imagined the boy, quick and bright with eyes nearly black, and thick dark
hair. He must have been quite the looker to have captured Bill's attention so.
Bill fumbled at bit, realizing suddenly that he was not going to able to say
anything further that would be "appropriate for a lady." Kay glared until he
continued.
His first night aboard, the boy slung his hammock next to Bill's with a grin,
eye contact held just a bit too long. Bill turned toward the hull and went to
sleep, letting his back convey his response. Come to find out in the morning,
the lad should have known better; Smitty had warned him straight off that if he
was looking to make a deal for a protector, Bootstrap was the wrong man to look
to. Every man jack of the crew knew who would wait for port and who wouldn't,
and Bill Turner had always waited.
Of course, Smitty no doubt said it with a gleam that made it clear just who he
would suggest as a better choice for the protector of a green lad. Smitty being
noticeably pox-ridden, perhaps the boy didn't give the information credit, or
just wanted to spite the man.
Kay took a long look at her husband. Bright green-blue eyes, strong capable
hands, and the slow voice of a man who knew what he was about. She couldn't
imagine a better protector herself, and likely the boy thought his failure to
molest was an added bonus. Perhaps it never occurred to Bill that being the one
man on board that would protect the lad without requiring unspeakable acts in
payment might be a bonus.
Within a week or two, Bill got tired of the ribbing from the rest of the crew.
Having never succumbed to the temptation of "that sort of thing," he'd never
endured the accompanying teasing, and it was bad enough that he wished he'd at
least earned it. But the lad did nothing more than chirp his ears off in the
bunk next to him, and flit around with his gestures far too expansive for the
tiny area between their hammocks.
Kay laughed long and loud at Bill's inability to say the word 'buggery.' He
could talk about, even contemplate it if she was reading between the lines
correctly, but not say the word. Poor Bill, as embarrassing as the teasing must
have been, telling her the story must be doubly so.
Bill ended the story with a plea for her to be very visible at the dock in the
morning when they shoved off, and a look in his eyes that added a request for
her to look well loved, and mournful at the loss of his company. That was done
easily enough.
When they arrived at the ship in the morning, Bill was immediately called
aboard to oversee the stowage of cargo, and Kay nearly left then. She caught
sight of a figure striding toward her, though, and waited to hear what he had
to say.
She was right; the boy was beautiful. He was also swaying like a sloop in a
high wind, and appeared to be holding on to thin air for balance.
"You are of course the lovely Mrs. Bootstrap, is that right?"
"Bootstrap! He told me that was his nickname, but I'd forgotten. I suppose that
would make me Mrs. Bootstrap, yes."
"I thought perhaps that I could get the story straight from the horse's mouth,
as it were, which is not to say that you are a horse, of course, you being not
in the least bit horse-like, in fact more of a-"
"Maybe you'd better get to the point, lad."
"It's me first time aboard a ship as crew and not captain, and Bill's been
lending me a hand. He talks about you a lot, well when he talks at all that is,
and I thought perhaps you could suggest a way to show my appreciation."
Kay took another look at Sparrow, who held the eye contact more steadily than
he did anything else. Not as much of a scoundrel as he appeared, then.
"You are doing an admirable job of that already, Mr. Sparrow. Just return him
to me in the same fine condition I left him in."
She caught Bill’s eye on the deck, nodded once, and walked away from the dock
without a second glance.
---
Bill's next visit in port was nearly two years later. Will didn't remember him
at all, was happy enough to be packed off to Aunt Mary's, and Kay tried not to
think about how little that seemed to bother Bill.
A quiet dinner, a long slow swive, and then the part that Kay lived for. Bill's
voice rumbling next to her ear, telling her tales of dolphins swimming
alongside the ship, and mermaids being spotted far off, and a wicked fight that
ended with a knife in Smitty's ribs. The things that happened to Bill didn't
seem real to him until he'd shared them with someone, she thought.
When she had nearly drifted off, he began a different kind of story, his voice
nearly too low to hear. Bill must have thought she was already asleep; he would
never be this open with her. She kept her body still and her breathing steady,
listening to her husband spill his heart.
---

He asked me about my nickname, the first night out after my last visit home.
"They call me that because if I fall, I pick myself up by my own bootstraps - I
don't need another man's hand to pick me up."
"So, you like the feel of your own hand, then?" he says, cheeky little bastard.
"Better that than to rely on a hand that won't always be there when I need it,"
I tell him, and turn my back to him. Here I am, with this lad beside me clearly
waiting to be seduced, and I all I can think of is you telling me how hard it
is to be the prey and not the hunter.
And I put my hand on his back, and his skin is so warm, I can almost feel the
texture of it through his shirt.
He's so beautiful, Kay, so beautiful. His hands, they move all the time, so you
can't see how long and graceful they are, until he’s moving them on you, and
all those fluttery little movements are teasing you until you can't bear it.
And his cock, my god. It's not that much bigger than mine, but on his slender
little form, it's obscene, is what it is. And those eyes, the way he just looks
at me with my cock in his mouth, I forget to pay attention to what his mouth is
doing, just spill from the look in his eyes.
For all his boldness, it took me weeks to get into that little round bum of
his. He tried to top me, can you believe that? He'd never been buggered before,
shaking like a leaf, all the while airily insisting that he found the whole
thing a bit boring. And the bunk stinks of rancid whale oil, and Smitty's in
the next bunk over sure to wake up any minute, but then I slide in, and he's
the only thing in the world. His tight little bunghole choking my tarse, and
his little sounds, and that shivering that isn't fear anymore. I bit him so
hard when I came I drew blood, I think.
He lets me tell him about you, you know. He pouts a bit, if I try to make too
much of you, but he listens to my stories, all the same. And he's crazy as a
loon, and the other men are going to kill him one day, I think, and I don't
care.
I love you, Kay. Sleep well, my dear.
---
She tries to take some comfort in it, that Bill's happy with Sparrow when he's
away. When she gets word the next year, that their ship been attacked by
pirates, and whispers that some of the men joined the pirate crew, she doesn't
try to investigate. She tells little Will his father is a merchant sailor, and
a good man, and he never comes back to gainsay her.
---
End Notes
     Here's a bit of silliness- a conversation about the writing process
     when I was struggling with this fic:
     I've never written an original character before, and since I make fun
     of Mary Sues all the time, I suspect that karma is going to catch up
     with me here.
     I don't like cheaters, though, so for me to write a married character
     having sex with someone else, I prefer that the spouse be okay with
     it. So that means Will's mom is in the story, and she and I are in a
     wrestling match right now.
     Will's mom: I have piercing green eyes and flaming red hair.
     Me: Nope. Brown, and brown. Like Will.
     Will's mom: I'm slender, yet voluptuous.
     Me: Rubenesque, actually. And I'm being kind here.
     Will's mom: I get to have hot threesomes with Jack and Bill.
     Me: In your dreams.
     Will's mom: My name is Anastacia Destiny Trixiebell Depp.
     Me: I'm thinking Kay. After my grandmother.
     Will's mom: I'm a pirate wench, and a governor's daughter.
     Me: You're a stay at home mom, and a fisherman's daughter.
     Will's mom: *pouts*
     Me: But I'll let you narrate.
     Will's mom: That's really nice, but how am I going to see what they
     get up to on the ship?
     Me: Good question.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
ck around for the long haul. I really
like what I see here."
Suddenly, Sam felt Dean's eyes on him and when he glanced over his shoulder,
Dean quickly moved his eyes up to Sam's, smirk forming on his face. 
Sam blushed profusely.
"Was he staring at my ass!?"
Sam hated and admired the indirect boldness of this man. He was so confident
and sure of himself. Sam started to think that Dean was purposely grating his
nerves. For fun or for...other purposes, he didn't know.
"Well...that's good at least." Sam capped the top on the cup of coffee and went
over to the pie dish. "I've been here my whole life. I actually applied to
Stanford University in California. Just waiting for the acceptance letter."
Dean leaned against the counter, the shirt around his muscles tightening. (Not
that Sam was noticing. Nope. Nah uh.) "Leaving so soon? I just got here,
Sammy."
"It's Sam." The teenager said politely. He smiled at Dean as he handed him his
food and drink. "That'll be $2.35." 
Dean fished out a 5 dollar bill, handing it to Sam and getting change back. He
then slipped $20 in Sam's apron pocket. "Keep it. It's a tip for
your...lovely services."
Sam nervously tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, face flushed. "Th--
Thanks."
"See ya around, Sammy."
Dean left right afterwards. Sam exhaled roughly as he properly tucked the 20
dollar bill in his back pocket. Mr. Smith a huge enigma...
===============================================================================
 
"Alright, I'm outta here, Cas!" 
Sam pulled on his coat, wrapping his red scarf around his neck. Finally, it was
the end of his shift. The fuckin fall weather was really biting this year,
forcing everyone to bundle up like it was winter. 
Castiel walked into the eating area, wiping his hands down with a towel. "You
sure you don't want me to drive you home?"
"I'll be fine, Cas. My dad's gonna pick me up. No big deal."
"Okay. Just looking out for my favorite coworker."
"You know it!" Sam smiled.
Cas turned back to the kitchen then, yelling out to Sam. "Be careful. Don't
talk to strangers." He teased.
"I do it every day!"
===============================================================================
 
Sam sat at the bus stop 2 blocks away from the café, headphones plugged into
his ears. He closed his eyes to the hyped up sounds of Fall Out Boy's
Immortals, the music taking him faraway from reality.
He imagined that he was older, traveling around with supernatural powers and
hunting monsters that people had thought were only stories. 
Sam opened up his eyes and saw a black car pull up in front of the bus stop.
The driver was obscured until he rolled down the window.
"Hiya."
Dean flashed Sam a grin that seemed to light up the night. Sam felt uneasy.
This guy was everywhere! He took out the earphones, frowning.
"Dean, are you following me?"
"Me? No, I was just on my way home from the market. You okay?"
Sam hesitated. "Yea--Yeah. I'm just waiting on my dad to come pick me up."
As if on cue, Sam's cellphone rang, the calling being his father.
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Hey, Kiddo. How ya doing?"
"I'm fine." Sam said, looking over at Dean. "You on your way now?"
On the other end, Sam heard his father sigh heavily.
"I actually was calling about that. I'm really swamped here and it looks like
I'm gonna have to work later, maybe past midnight. I'm sorry, Kid."
"No, it's fine. Really. I'll just go back to the shop, Castiel said that he'd
take me home."
"Okay...I'm sorry again. I'll make it up to you. Love you."
"Love you too, Dad." Sam said, finishing up the phone call.
Dean reached over the passenger side,  opening the door for Sam. The boy cocked
an eyebrow at the teacher.
"Well, you're not walking all the way back there in this weather. Hop in, I'll
take you home."
"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers." Sam smiled.
Dean licked his lips and smirked.
"Good thing I'm not a stranger then, huh?"
===============================================================================
Sam gave Dean directions to his house. He still felt a little unnerved about
the older man knowing his address. This whole situation seemed so strange to
Sam. Determined to break the silence that they settled in, Sam talked.
"So um...nice car."
"Isn't she? This is a 1967 Chevy Impala. Belonged to my dad, passed down to me.
She's my baby."
"That's pretty cool actually. You must have a good relationship with him then,
right?"
Sam noticed Dean's jaw twitch at the question. 
"He's dead...he was mugged by a drug addict with a gun and...well I suppose you
can piece together what happened."
Sam unconsciously placed his hand over Dean's right one that rested on his
knee. The touch had Dean quickly glance at the student.
"I'm sorry for your loss. I couldn't possibly...I mean I..."
Sam was cut off by Dean laughing.
"It's okay. I get it. Thanks, Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"So you keep saying. I like calling you Sammy. I think it sounds right on my
tongue..."
Dean had seductively poked out his tongue, eyeing Sam from his peripheral
vision. Sam turned his head away, very much embarrassed.
===============================================================================
 
They eventually made their way to the Wesson Residence; Sam refused to look
Dean's way for fear he might be molested on the spot. Dean parked the car.
"Um thank you, Dean. I appreciate it. See ya." Sam said, quickly grabbing his
bag and out of the car.
"Whoa whoa!!" Dean hopped out too and grabbed Sam's forearm. "That's all I
get?" He winked and smiled.
Sam looked almost disgusted. "Yes, Mr. Smith. What do you want from me?"
"I'm just trying to get a better relationship with you, Sammy." Dean was
immediately in Sam's space, chest to chest.
The teen looked up at Dean, eyes wide and scared. It then dawned on him that
Dean might be dangerous.
"I--I really have to go, see you tomorrow, Mr. Smith." Sam snatched his hand
away, keys jingling loud as his hands shook. He opened the door and tried to
close it but Dean was quicker.
"I really hate rejection, Sammy..."
***** Innocence Lost *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam attempts to start over with Dean in hopes that the older man
     would learn some boundaries. However, things start to take a twisted
     turn for the worse for Sam.
     Dean Smith comes to his rescue once again.
Chapter Notes
     Sexy-Hot Smut lies ahead....You've been warned.
What nerve! The nerve of Dean Smith and his gorgeous, green eyes and ruggedly
handsome features! 
"Well I'm sorry but you're my teacher! If I'm reading the signs right, it seems
to me that what you really want from me is...is a...relationship."
"Is it that obvious?" Dean said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his head. Sam
blushed.
"...very."
Dean pried open the door the rest of the way and backed Sam into a corner. "I
know that you think of me, Sam. I think of you too. We just met but give me a
chance. Please just...just a chance. We can make it past the age barrier, can't
we? We'll be careful until you go off to college. Right?"
Sam bit his bottom lip. Oh, how badly did he want to give in to this charming
older man! He wanted to say yes and mash their lips together in a romantic
frenzy! But then he thought about Ryan and how wonderful he was, so considerate
and thoughtful. He couldn't break his heart like that.
"...I can't. I'm sorry, Dean. I love Ryan."
Dean silently nodded, eyes showing hints of devastation. For a reason he
couldn't decipher, Sam hated seeing that in Dean. 
"But maybe we can be friends? Hang out sometime, ya know? I could show you
around town and stuff."
Dean perked up, smiling that cocky smile of his. "Yeah...I'd like that a lot."
He bent down to kiss Sam on the cheek. He handed Sam a piece of paper with his
number on it.
Sam felt his entire burn hot. He had to get Dean out of the house before he
popped a very inappropriate boner. He ushered him back outside to his car. Dean
started it up and rolled down the window.
"So, we cool? I really do want us to be alright."
Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we're good. See ya soon, Dean."
"Later, Sammy." Dean grinned and sped down the street.
===============================================================================
 Though he wouldn't admit it to ANYONE, Sam spent most of his night jerking
off...using thoughts of Dean as material.
===============================================================================
 The next day, Sam woke up smiling. Although he kindly denied Dean's offer of
courtship, Sam was determined to be a good fucking friend to him. His dad had
yet to come home, which was understandable and expected.
At school, however, was another story. The entire atmosphere was unsettling,
dark and brooding. As he passed through the halls, the students murmured
amongst themselves in hushed whispers and some were running to the back exit
screaming. Alarmed, Sam took off after them in a rushed sprint.
Getting outside, Sam also screamed as he saw the dead body of Ryan, hung by a
rope on the field goal post. 
All sound was blocked out except for the rapid beating of his heart as Sam
broke down onto the grass.
It was all a blur then, police were called, his father was called on the scene
and took him back home. 
He sat on his bed, tears occasionally streaming down his unblinking, hazel
eyes. Sam finally broke down, the reality of the situation catching up to him
again.
Ryan was dead. He committed suicide and didn't even say goodbye. Hell, he
didn't even think that Ryan was unhappy. But then again, most people suffering
from depression or suicidal thoughts are usually adept in concealing their
afflictions.
Sam curled in on himself and sobbed.
===============================================================================
 
The next couple of weeks went by agonizingly slow. The school held a
candlelight vigil in remembrance of Ryan. Sam had gone, of course, crying with
Ryan's parents. Sam had noticed Dean was there as well, he left a candle and
disappeared.
The actual funeral took place a couple days after, most of of school and family
were in attendance. Sam was invited to sit in the front row with Ryan's parents
and big brother, Josh, to which he accepted. Josh had always approved of his
little brother and Sam being together, going so far as to call Sam his "Bro In
Law". That wasn't to be, he supposed.
===============================================================================
 
Ruby and Gabriel had given him his space, as they should've. They collected his
schoolwork for him and dropped it off at his house. He hadn't been in since the
incident. Sam even quit his job.
Rick had tried to be more adamant about cheering his son up, which worked for a
time. He started taking him to the shooting range everyday, helping him vent
out his anger and frustration. Rick understood well his son's plight. His wife,
Sam's mother, was killed during a bank robbery and he had fallen so far from
grace that he didn't think he'd return, but he did. For his son.
===============================================================================
 
Sam sat on the couch with the TV playing. It was 6:30 in the evening and he
hadn't really been paying attention to it in favor of reading Bram Stoker'
Dracula. It was Halloween and he supposed it was only fitting for such a thing.
Suddenly, Sam's phone started to ring. Looking at the caller, he smiled and
scoffed.
"Yes, Gabriel?"
"Hey, Sammy Boy! Guess where Ruby and I are going tonight?"
"I don't know, Gabe. Where?"
There was soft music playing in the background and Ruby started giggling.
"Lucifer's annual Halloween party. You should totally come! And Ruby said she's
not taking no for an answer!"
Sam chuckled slightly. He really did love his friends. "Well, I guess that
answers that now, doesn't it? I'm on my way over."
Sam playfully held the phone away from his ear as both Gabriel and Ruby
squealed in delight. Gabe handed the phone over to Ruby then.
"Thank God! We're at my place, I'm sure we have something that'll accommodate
your features nicely."
Sam's face turned the shade of crimson.
"Oh Fuck..."
===============================================================================
 "I probably look rediculous."
"Sam, you look fuckin sexy. Shut up."
Ruby and Sam had been bickering for over half an hour about his attire. He was
made to wear a blindfold to prevent him from seeing whatever disaster Gabe and
Ruby had put on him.
"I swear to god, Ruby." Sam hissed. "If I look like a comic book reject, I'll
kill you. And why are my legs so cold?"
"You complain too much." Gabriel chided. "We're almost done, sweet stuff."
"You said that 10 minutes ago..."
Exactly 32 seconds later, Ruby placed Sam in front of the mirror and took off
the blindfold. He immediately felt ashamed as he gazed at his outfit.
He wore white cut off jean shorts that ended right near his asscheeks. On his
long, slender legs were white and red knee-high socks and he had on all white
tennis shoes. Sam realized, with an unreadable expression, what he was supposed
to be dressed as when he looked at the tight, short sleeved, white button up
shirt with a red cross drawn on the right side of his chest.
"I'm a sexy nurse." Sam deadpaned.
Ruby slapped Sam against his partially exposed ass. "Be happy about it! The
guys will eat you up, Sam! Even the straight ones, right, Gabe?"
Gabriel made crude gesture of him bending Sam over and thrusting the air. Sam
groaned while Ruby had set a smug look on her face.
"See? Even Gabriel wants to fuck you!"
"Gabriel doesn't fucking count because he's bi!" Sam chuckled.
"But I'm straight tonight because Kali's gonna be at the party and I think I'm
gonna make a move." Gabriel protested.
Sam huffed, carding a few fingers through his hair. "I appreciate this guys,
really do, but I'm not looking for a one night stand or a random hookup."
"We know, Sam." They said unison.
"Good." Sam said as he put on his coat. "Let's party."
===============================================================================
Lucifer Milton was a rich, spoiled 22 year old who often held parties for the
sake of just having one. His parents bought him a 20 Thousand Dollar house with
4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. He even had a room in which he let people hookup
in. He called it "The Sex Parlor" and he had it cleaned almost every day. 
Lucifer has also made it a point last year that he was very into Sam.
===============================================================================
Directly after knocking on the front door, Sam, Ruby and Gabriel were pulled
into the house my the host.
"Glad you guys could make it!" Lucifer said taking Sam into a tight hug. He
took their coats and deposited them in the closet. He then raked his eyes over
Sam's form, mouth practically watering. "Whoa...damn boy...nice get up."
Sam squirmed under Lucifer's lust filled gaze. What the hell is wrong with
people?
He looked over at Ruby, who was in a Black Widow get up, and then at Gabriel,
Loki costume doing nothing for his small height. They both watched, clearly
amused. To make matters much more worse than they currently were, Ruby and
Gabriel said their goodbyes.
"I gotta look for Kali. She's supposed to be my female Thor. Laterz." And then
Ruby who muttered, "I hope you have good beer here, Milton." 
"And then there was two." Lucifer smirked. He was dresses as a fireman with
just the overalls, boots and helmet. For some reason, he chose to abandon the
shirt and jacket, leaving his torso exposed. "How ya holding up, Sam? Ryan was
a good kid."
Sam mentally winced at the mention of Ryan's name. He had accepted his death
but it still felt fresh in his mind. 
"I'm fine," He said truthfully. "I'm getting better. Thanks."
"If you need anything, I'm here. You know that, right?"
Lucifer was a bit too close for Sam's comfort. He used his fist to push away
the blonde.
"Yeah. I'm gonna go get something to drink. Meet up with you later."
Sam quickly exited through the patio. He shivered slightly; he had forgotten
his jacket. He looked up at the night sky, stars gleaming and moonlight
illuminating the patio. Sam sighed heavily as his phone rang. He had an inkling
as to who it was.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, Kiddo. Where are you? I didn't know you had plans tonight."
"Sorry. It was kinda last minute. I'm at a party with Gabriel and Ruby. I think
I might crash at his place tonight though."
There was a brief silence over the phone. Then,
"Okay. Be careful, Sam. A lot of craziness going on tonight. Hate this season.
Well, I won't take up anymore of your time. I'm...I'm glad you're doing well,
son...I love you."
A small tear fell down Sam's cheek.
"Yeah...I love you too, Pop. See ya..."
He hung up the phone and wiped his eyes. He was going to make the most of this
night. Determined, Sam pocketed the phone and went back inside, ready to have
fun.
===============================================================================
 
It's true when they say that time flies when you're having fun. Sam looked at
his watch; it was 3 minutes past midnight. He needed to find Gabriel. 
After asking around for 5 minutes, someone had told him that Gabriel had left
with Kali around 11:30, grinning like a mad man. As for Ruby, well he found her
passed out in The Sex Parlor with a couple of guys.
Sam stealthily retrieved his coat from the closet and exited the house for the
last time, walking down the road to a nearby park. He sat down on a bench but
stood back up after feeling how cold the metal was. Sam had to call someone.
As he fished out his phone, a grey sedan pulled up next to him. The man driving
rolled down the window and spoke to him with a heavy British accent.
"How much?"
"Excuse me?" Sam asked. Was this guy thinking that...?
"How much to fuck ya, sweetheart?" The guy said, leering at Sam in a way that
made his skin crawl.
"I'm not a fuckin prostitute, asshole! Fuck you!"
The man killed the engine and stepped out, standing face to face with Sam. He
gripped the younger boy's jaw tight.
"What a mouth ya have on ya. Even if you're not a whore, I'll still pay well.
What's it gonna be, Sunshine? Ya gonna behave for Uncle Crowley?"
Sam sneered as he kicked Crowley in the balls. He jumped back and took off
running in the park, not looking back. Apparently, he wasn't quick enough
because he was tackled from behind by the lecherous man. His right arm was held
behind his back and Crowley held him down with his weight.
"I tried to be bloody nice to ya! But now I gotta take what I want by force. Ya
brought this on ya self, Flower."
Crowley began sniffing in Sam's hair as the boy whimpered and pleaded for him
to stop. Crowley hummed a song as he ran his fingers down Sam's thighs,
caressing the soft flesh.
"I can tell that ya never had another man inside ya before. I'll try to be a
little gentle, maybe. Or I could ram my cock in dry."
Sam shivered at Crowley's words. Was this going to happen? Was he really about
to be raped by some strange pedophile? 
Sam shut his eyes tight, just waiting for it to be over. He was startled when a
familiar voice filled the air.
"Get the fuck up, you bastard."
Crowley stumbled off of Sam and adjusted his trousers. Sam turned around to see
his savior. It was Dean. He held a pistol up at Crowley, expression fearful and
angry.
"Hey now!" Crowley stuttered. "I was just--"
"I know what you were doing!" Dean yelled. "Get the fuck outta here before I
call the police! Now!"
Crowley ran back to his car and sped off into the night leaving Sam staring up
at Dean with huge doe eyes. Dean helped him up from the ground and took him
back to his car.
===============================================================================
 
"Where are we?" Sam asked. 
He looked around the neighborhood. He had recognized it, of course, but he had
no idea why they were there.
"Home. My home anyway. It was closer and since it's after midnight, I figured
that your dad knew you weren't coming home."
Dean was a strange man.
"Yeah..." Sam said like an idiot. "Yeah...thanks. Thanks for everything
tonight, Dean. I appreciate it."
Dean kissed Sam's cheek then and whispered, "I'd do again if I had the chance,
Sammy."
"It's Sam..." The boy whispered back.
"Sammy."
"Sam."
"Sammy."
"Sam..."
"My Sammy."
Dean pressed his lips onto Sam's, quickly gaining access inside of his mouth.
Their tongues fought against each other in a slippery, wet battle. 
Suddenly, Dean withdrew, smirking.
"Let's go upstairs."
===============================================================================
 
Sam stood naked in front of Dean, his entire body turning crimson. Dean stared
transfixed at Sam's slender form, occasionally licking a long stripe up and
down the teen's cock. 
"You taste better than I thought you would've, Sammy. So sweet, so innocent.
Have you ever been fucked?"
"Y--Yes." Sam lied. It seemed that Dean saw through his statement.
"You don't have to lie. It's just us here, baby. You can be just as honest with
me as your body is."
To emphasize his point, Dean rubbed two lube slicked fingers around Sam's hole,
gently prodding.
"I never...have. You would be my first..."
Dean groaned softly at Sam's words. He pushed in his fingers, making Sam moan
loud. He began unzipping his own pants and underwear. He pulled out his fingers
from Sam and stood up in front of him, jeans and boxers pooled around his
ankles.
"I'm gonna fuck you, Sammy. I'm gonna let you feel me inside of you. I'm gonna
feel your tight heat around my cock and I'm gonna blow my load up inside you,
baby."
"Dean...I..."
The teacher hushed him with a heated kiss. As they kissed, he began to stroke
the boys dick and almost came right then and there when Sam did the same to
him.
"Suck my dick, Sammy. I wanna feel those lips around my cock." Dean panted. He
pushed Sam's shoulders down until his face was leveled with Dean's cock. "You
can do it..."
Sam briefly retreated into his mind at that point.
How did we get here? Dean is basically no better than that Crowley man! But he
saved me...he saved me from that guy so...I owe him, right? I owe him this at
least...
Sam looked at the hard dick in front of his face, lips turning dry at the
sight. Pre cum dripped slowly from it and onto Sam's chest. Throwing away his
modesty, Sam licked his lips and sucked lazily on the head.
"Fuck!" Dean growled. "Sammy...mmm"
The boy looked upwards to Dean as he slid his cock all the way inside his
mouth.
"Oh my god! Sammy, don't stop!"
Sam bobbed his head up and down fast, occasionally stopping to lock down at
Dean's massive balls.
"Sammy! I'm gonna--"
As Dean said that, Sam's throat was assaulted by a large stream of cum. He
pulled back and coughed for several seconds.
"Shit...I'm sorry, Sam." Dean said, apologizing.
"It's okay..." Sam said. "I'm alright. No harm done."
Dean smirked. "Good." He hauled Sam up and tossed him very ungracefully onto
his king sized bed. "If your virgin hole is as tight as your mouth, I don't
think I'd be able to control myself."
Sam whimpered as the older man slid his fingers inside him again. "Dean...I--
I don't think I can do this..."
"Of course you can, Sammy. You want this just as much as I do. You let me know
that in the car, baby. Just relax."
Dean continued to scissor his fingers in Sam's heat until he hit his prostate.
The teenager cried out in sudden pleasure.
"I found it." Dean chuckled. "Got your sweet spot."
"I don't want this anymore!" Sam thought. He was pretty terrified of losing his
virginity...he was going to save it for Ryan. "No...please."
Sam must've said it out loud because Dean became a little gentler. "Don't say
that, Sammy. I'll make it great for you." He touched Sam's erection, slowly
pumping it.
"I've fantasized about this moment for so long." Dean pulled out his fingers
and lined up his member against Sam's rim. "It'll burn for a moment, then it'll
be so good."
True to his word, it did fucking burn! Sam gripped the sheets tight, knuckles
turning white. Tears left his eyes in heavy torrents. Sam felt like he was
being ripped open. He tried to wiggle away but it was in vain.
"Don't struggle!" Dean suddenly yelled. His features were hardened, eyes wild;
angry. 
Sam stopped moving, literally too scared to. The look on Dean's face changed
back to the loving and caring one he had before his outburst.
"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm just--don't move around too much. It'll hurt more.
Understand?"
Sam nodded, cheeks wet from the tears. Dean smiled and continued rocking into
him slowly. 
Dean was again proven right when Sam felt a searing, white hot blast of
pleasure. Sam moaned obscenely causing Dean to repeatedly slam his dick in
Sam's prostate. He carded his fingers in Dean's hair, feeling his climax
building.
"Dean! It's gonna--I'm gonna--!"
"Me too, Sammy! I'm coming!"
Sam and Dean moaned and shouted as they reached their orgasms.
===============================================================================
 
After cleaning up a bit, Dean invited Sam into his bed where they cuddled up
together. Dean softly scratched at the teen's scalp with blunt nails.
"How did it feel?" He asked.
Sam huffed out a laugh, face pressed against Dean's neck. "It was good. Better
than good. It was the best thing I've ever felt."
Dean seemed to be satisfied with Sam's answer because he took his face and
kissed him with newfound passion.
"I love you." Dean confessed.
Sam blushed at Dean's words. He laughed nervously as he tucked himself back in
Dean's arms. "I'm sleepy..."
"Yeah, I would be too if I were you. Get some sleep, Sammy."
"Mkay..."
Dean reached over and turned out the light on the night stand.
***** Sneaking Around *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean relishes in his new relationship, nearly risking his job with
     his reckless behavior.
     Sam becomes enamored with Dean, encouraging his advances.
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: More Smut! Yaaaaay!
"Nngh..." Sam mumbled. He swatted at whatever was poking his nose but only
smacked air. The poking had proceeded for 4 more minutes until Sam finally
opened up his eyes, bleary orbs peering up at green ones.
"It's about time you got up..."
Dean's voice was hoarse whisper, almost as if he hadn't used it in a while; he
sounded a bit tired. His hair was intact, albeit slightly ruffled and he was
smiling.
Sam tried to sit up but his body did a complete 180 on him. He groaned aloud as
a dull pain shot up his backside.
"Okay...ow."
"That would...that would be my fault." Dean said meekly. "Sorry." He nuzzled
his face into Sam's neck, pressing a chaste kiss to it making Sam giggle.
"I didn't wanna bother you; you look so at peace when you sleep." Dean
explained. "But I gotta get some food in you. And maybe after, I can get
some me in you."
"Dean!" Sam chuckled. The older man made a smooching face while attempting to
fondle the student. "If I say that I'll think about it, will you leave me
alone!?"
"Depends," Dean purred hungrily. "If you're gonna deliver or not." 
"Come a little closer..."
Dean obeyed and was rewarded with a pillow to the face. Sam cackled as he
scurried away from the bed, him and Dean stark naked as they chased each other
around the apartment.
===============================================================================
 "We have to tell your dad."
Sam nearly choked on his bacon. "What!?"
"Now before you give me a bitch face, let me explain. I think that it's best we
tell your dad about what almost happened to you last night...with that guy in
the park. He'd find out eventually."
Sam looked down at his plate. Dean was right. His dad had to know the truth.
"Okay..."
"I'll lend you some of my clothes. Now here's what we'll tell him..."
===============================================================================
 An hour later, Sam was enveloped in his father's tree trunk like arms in their
home, nearly crushing the hell out of him. Dean sat on the couch watching
father and son have their moment. 
"Jesus Christ, Sammy, you should've called me as soon as this happened!" 
"I wanted to but, I was really tired and Mr. Smith was nice enough to let me
crash at his place. And can you let me go? I think you're killing me."
Rick reluctantly released his grip on his son, looking over at Sam's "Savior".
"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Detective Rick Wesson. Thank you so
much for saving my kid, Mr. Smith."
Dean stood up and flashed Rick a charming and innocent grin. Sam almost rolled
his eyes at the sight. Almost.
"Please, call me Dean. I hate to think about what would've happened if I hadn't
gotten there in time. I guess it's teacher's intuition or something like it."
"Teacher?" Rick queried. "Are you Harris' replacement?"
Dean nodded. "Guilty as charged, detective!"
Rick held his hand out to which Dean grabbed and shook. "Sorry, Dean, that we
couldn't have met under normal circumstances. I don't even know how to repay
you."
"How bout a cold one sometime? I'd say that about covers it."
Rick grinned. "Deal." He grabbed Sam for another bone crushing hug. "What am I
gonna do with you?"
"How about not murdering me with your logs you call arms!?" Sam yelled,
slightly muffled. Eventually, the detective let go of his son.
Rick's phone rang causing him to excuse himself into the kitchen leaving Sam
and Dean alone.
"Very convincing." Sam said sarcastically to his teacher. His ass was slapped
gently for his remark.
"It actually was, if I may say so myself." Dean whispered. "He's all buddy
buddy with me now."
Sam cringed internally and externally at the realization of something. "Oh my
god. My dad is literally one year younger than you. I feel extremely weird."
"You can call me 'Daddy' if you want, Baby Boy." Dean rasped in Sam's ear. He
chuckled when the boy's face turned the color of strawberries. Dean regained
his posture and smiled when the detective came back into the room.
"Sorry bout that," Rick said. "There's a little issue at the station and they
need me apparently." He looked at Sam who seemed slightly...off. "You okay,
Kiddo?"
"Mhm" Sam said, fake smiling. "Just a little shaken up still."
Rick shrugged it off as nothing, the oblivious bastard. "Alright, well I'm
headed out. I'll be back soon. Get Dean something to drink or eat or whatever.
Anything he needs at the moment. See ya, Sam." Rick took his keys and left the
house.
When Dean deemed it safe, he lunged at Sam,  tackling him in the floor and
nearly pulling apart his clothes.
"Goddammit, Dean! You're a fuckin hornball! Haven't you had enough last night
and this morning?" Sam cried out.
"I can never get enough of My Sammy. Besides, Detective said to get me anything
I need. I need you. I want you." Dean whined.
"No." Sam said wiggling away and standing up. "No, Dean. If we do this, we have
to be careful. You could lose your job and go to jail."
Dean stood up as well, kissing Sam's neck and gripping his hair. "No one can
keep me away from you. I want you to remember that. Fuck that, I want you to
say it."
"Dean--"
"Say. It." He growled, pulling Sam's head back and suckling hard.
"N--No one can--ah! Can keep you away from me." Sam panted. He hated to admit
that this side if Dean turned him on slightly.
"That's right. No one. Not even prison can hold me. So why don't we use the
time your dad gave us to fuck in his bed."
"...You're so....ugh..."
===============================================================================
 
The weeks passed on fairly easy, Sam went back to school the following Monday
and was welcomed back by the staff and students alike. Apparently, the entire
school had been missing Sam's bubbly personality. Gabriel had carried Sam on
his back, showing the entire school that he had returned from his pit of
depression. Sam was not given any say in the matter.
Things with him and Dean were getting increasingly hot and risky. In the middle
of November, Dean told Sam to stay behind after class; he had a prep period so
he was free. After the students had piled out, he shut and locked the door,
proceeding to eat Sam out on top of his desk. After that was done, he laid down
on it and let him ride his cock.
In another instance, Dean backed Sam into a corner of the cafeteria and fucked
him against the wall. Lunch was certainly forgotten that day. 
In their latest conquest, Sam was ordered to get underneath Dean's desk for his
last period class so he could suck him off. Dean had surprisingly held his
composure until Sam swirled his tongue around just right. He knew it drove the
older man wild. Dean stuttered from behind his desk, pleasure building up as he
talked to his students. 
"S--ssso, make sure that you GET the assignments done by next w--weeeeek."
"Are you okay, sir?" One kid asked.
Dean gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded fiercely. Thankfully the bell
rang as he came down Sam's throat, the kids all rushing out not seeing
anything.
Sam popped out and sat cross-legged on the desk, grinning like a mad man.
"How'd you like that, Mr. Smith?"
Dean sighed, smiling and clearly exhausted from the release. "Mr. Wesson, I
think we need to have last period sessions more often. But I'd settle for
dinner and a movie."
Sam placed his hand over his heart feigning being flattered. "Oh my! Are you
asking me out on a date?"
"Why yes, I believe that I am. Are you available this evening?" Dean asked,
hands folded together.
Sam hopped off the desk and retrieved his back. He put in his leather jacket
(which Dean bought him) and his aviators (which Dean had also gifted to him).
"Pick me up at 7:30. Dad should be gone by then." He saluted Dean and went to
the door. He was stopped by a hand on his hand.
"I can take you home." Dean offered.
"Now, Mr. Smith, wouldn't it look a bit off for you, a teacher, to drive me, a
student, home in a nice shiny black car?" Sam smirked.
Dean gripped Sam's ass tight and kissed him passionately making the student
yelp. "I don't give a damn about what people think. Let me drive you home."
Sam giggled and untangled himself from Dean's grasp. "Fine! But don't do that
again. We're still in school."
"You just sucked my dick for an entire period." He countered back.
"Tomato, Tomahto."
***** Love Me (Like You Do) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam and Dean go out on a date night where shenanigans ensue!
"Sam, come here a minute."
Rick sat in the living room, watching an old rerun of COPS. He switched it off
in favor of paying attention to his only child. He looked at Sam with a fond
expression and patted the empty space next to him on the couch.
Sam padded barefoot across the carpeted floor, sitting cross-legged next to his
dad.
"What's going on, Dad?"
"Nothing, just...just wanna talk to you. Seems like we haven't had any time to
spend together because of me and I apologize for that."
"It's okay, Dad. Seriously. It's part of the job. You have to save people.
Always on call. I get it, I really do so don't be sorry."
Rick smiled down at his son, gripping him in a headlock and grinding his fist
in his hair. "I love you, Kid."
Sam squealed in surprise, kicking his feet in the air and clawing at his
father's arms. "I love you too, you big fuckin lumberjack!"
"Language, young man." Rick cackled.
"Fuck-Shit-Bitch-Ass-SonofaCunt. How's that for language?"
Rick relinquished his hold on Sam, causing the boy to playfully kick him in the
thigh. "Well, you certainly got that from my side of the family."
Sam frowned. It was a rare occurrence that they ever mentioned his mother. His
memory of her slowly faded with each passing year.
"Do you ever think about her? Mom I mean." Sam blurted out. Rick sighed and
pulled Sam back next to him.
"Yeah, Bud. I do. A lot. I think about her everyday when I look at you." Rick
huffed a sad laugh. "You remind me so much of her, you know. You have her fiery
personality...and her eyes. Do you ever think about her?"
A couple tears silently fell from Sam's eyes. "Every once in a while I end up
dreaming about her, memories...before the incident. Sometimes it all gets
jumbled up in my head and I can't remember much. Had we not have pictures of
her, I don't think I would've remembered Mom's face."
Rick hugged Sam a bit tighter. "She's watching over is, Sammy. At least that's
what I want to believe."
"I think she is too. She's gotta be." Sam said quietly. Guilt had bubbled up
into his stomach then as he thought about his sex-capades with his much older
English teacher. What would his mother say? He pushed the thought deep down
into the dark recesses of his mind.
After a couple minutes of silence, Rick cleared his throat and stood up. "I've
gotta get this work done at the station. Sorry--"
"Nope. Zip it!" Sam laughed. "It brings in the bacon."
"Are you ever gonna get your job back?"
"Yeah, Cas said that I was best of the best at manning the register so I go
back after Thanksgiving." Sam grinned.
Rick was halfway out of the door when he snapped his fingers and turned back to
Sam. "Oh hey, I've been meaning to ask that teacher of yours, Dean, if he would
like to spend Thanksgiving with us, ya know, if he doesn't have plans."
"I'm sure he'd love to."
===============================================================================
 
Shortly after Rick left, Sam pulled out his cell and texted Dean.
Dad's gone and I'm about to get in the shower. See ya soon.
As he began to undress, his phone vibrated once then twice.
Sweet. I'll be waiting around my phone like a tool.
Holy Shit! Send me some nudes, Baby Boy. Pretty pleeeeeease! ;)
Sam swore under his breath, smiling slightly. He chose to ignore the text and
hop in the shower.
While under the hot water, Sam had time to think about his situation. Dean was
charming, handsome, just the overall total package in a great guy...but
something felt so odd about him. Every so often, he would go into a blind rage
over the most trivial matters.
For instance, during first period, Sam was partnered with Brady, the school's
star quarterback, for a two man project. Partway through, Brady stared talking
to Sam, expressing his sorrow for Ryan's death. Sam gave him a hug for that,
not knowing Dean was watching with a wrathful gaze. After class, Dean cornered
Sam I'm the room, locking the door. He yelled at him, calling him everything
under the sun. Sam has begun to yell back and cry, prompting Dean to stop his
tirade and console the weeping boy.
However, the next day, Brady was no where to be seen. He shrugged that last
part out of his thoughts.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" Sam muttered info the steaming
bathroom.
===============================================================================
 Twenty minutes later, Sam was in his underwear, drying his hair with a towel
while checking out his cell.
2 New Messages From: Jerk
Hurry uuuuup. I'm bored. Waiting for your signal so I can pick you up.
Are you wackin off in there, Sammy? I bet you are, thinking about my big cock
spreading you open--
Sam quickly locked his phone. That last message had started making him hard and
he'd rather save all sexual experiences until the end of the date.
He sent the perpetually horny man a quick text, teasing the poor guy.
You'd better hurry up. My dick is throbbing for you.
Not even ten seconds later, Sam received a text from Dean making him burst out
in laughter.
Be there in three minutes.
===============================================================================
 
If there was a world record for putting on clothes the fastest, Sam was sure
he'd be the record no one could ever break with how fast he fuckin did it. He
snatched a grey cashmere v-neck sweater that Rick bought him last Christmas
from his closet, followed by a pair of faded and worn-out jeans. 
He decided that it was high time that he started styling his hair more often
after he swiftly combed through it with slick gel. Sam made sure no stray
strand of hair was sticking up or within his eyesight.
He grabbed his phone and his new pair of Converse sneakers with him as he
dashed down the stairs, plopping down on the couch to put them on. Just as he
did, the door bell rang aloud throughout the house. 
Taking deep breaths, Sam eventually made his way over to the door and opened
it. The sight before him was magnificent. Truly a gift from the gods above!
Dean snirked as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his hair was
subtly gelled and spiked. He wore what seemed to be an all white long sleeved
Polo shirt with his usual leather jacket and dark slacks with dress shoes. The
top couple of buttons were undone, showing off slivers of milky white flesh.
"I came for the boy with the throbbing dick." Dean said, voice husky and deep.
"Well, Mr. Hero," Sam said in a dramatic tone of voice. "It seems that that boy
is long gone! Hahaha!"
Dean's grin could have only been described as wolfish in nature as he stalked
towards the teen. "Oh, Sammy, I ain't a hero." He leaned forward and purred the
rest in his ear. "Not with the way I have you screaming my name."
Sam visibly and outwardly shivered. This man was like walking kryptonite! "Ar--
Are you ready to go?"
"I should ask you the same thing. You look flustered. You wanna stay home and
let me take care of you?"
"Well, first off, if I'm flustered it's because you made me." Sam joked. "And
second, no. Let's get to this fuckin date night."
He grabbed his jacket and keys before shutting the door and walking down the
pathway to Dean's Impala. When they got near, Dean jogged ahead of him and
opened the passenger door.
"After you, Princess." Dean crooned.
Sam huffed after climbing in. "Jerk."
"Bitch."
Dean slid into the driver's seat and started the car, reaching out to put in an
old cassette. Sam looked incredulously at the older man as Kansas started
playing Carry On My Wayward Son. Dean inclined an eyebrow in Sam's direction.
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what'?" Sam said, pointing to the radio. "Seriously?"
Dean leaned over and gave Sam a small kiss before stating with a smug grin,
"Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole."
===============================================================================
 
Partway through the mix tape of old classic rock, Sam asked the question that
had been on his mind when they left his house.
"Hey, uh, where exactly are we going? I'm pretty sure that you're not taking me
somewhere local."
"You're right actually. We're headed two towns over where no one knows us.
It'll be nice. Memorized the directions from my GPS; movie theater is first."
"What are we gonna go see?" Sam asked over the sounds of Led Zeppelin.
"What do you wanna see?" Dean fired back.
"I don't frickin know! Just so much stuff out now I guess. We'll see when we
get there."
Dean smiled as he stared out at the road. "Whatever you say, boss. My Sexy,
Smart, 16-Year-Old Boss."
"You forgot to say Sammy."
"I thought you hated that nickname. I believe you said once that you even
'Detested the name and wished that it would die along with skinny jeans and
twitter'."
"Well, I changed my mind. About the nickname. Not about the other stuff."
"Gotcha...Sammy."
===============================================================================
 
After much debate about what movie to go see (which lasted around twenty-five
minutes outside of the theater), they both settled on the latest science
fiction movie.
The entire movie was just "Rubbish" in Sam's words. The plot had poorly thought
out with the characters spouting some bullshit expositions to cram down the
audience's throat every five minutes. Sam had walked out of building fuming.
"That was so bad. Like really bad. Worse movie ever!"
"Mhm." Dean mumbled.
"I mean, come on! Where's the realism? I know sci-fi is supposed to not be
about realism but still. Some random chick finds out that she's like the fuckin
Queen of Earth or something. Bullshit. The only funny or entertaining thing
about that piece of shit was the irony in her name: Jupiter. Yeah, we get it!
Her name is Jupiter and she's Queen of Earth!"
Dean snaked his arm around Sam's waist as they walked back to the car. "I liked
it. It was different."
"No, it wasn't. It has been done before time and time again. Repeatedly... I
will give it 3 stars for Channing Tatum and only for Channing Tatum."
"Do I have to kill Channing Tatum now?" Dean asked as he and Sam slipped into
the car.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
===============================================================================
Dinner was marvelous, to say the least. Dean had taken Sam to Olive Garden
because it "served all kinds of rabbit food".
All was well that time around, no mistakes or slip ups as they ate. However, as
they were almost finished, the waiter came over to check on them, paying extra
attention to Sam much to Dean's irritation. Had Sam not caught his fist before
he struck the waiter, Dean would've been in a heap of trouble. Shortly after
paying the bill, Sam grabbed Dean's hand and got the hell out of dodge.
===============================================================================
 
"Can I switch the radio a bit, Dean?"
"Hm..."
"Dean..."
"..."
"Deeeeeean. Pleeeeease?"
"Fine..."
"You're totally the bestest."
"Never do that again. You sound like a sorority bitch valley girl."
"That makes you a macho frat boy with a nice car that's clearly trying to over
compensate."
"...Switch the station or I'll rape you right here in this car."
"Radio it is then!"
"..."
"Oh fuck yeah! This is my song!"
"Hmm?"
"Love me like you do! La-La-Love me like you do! Love me like you do! La-La-
Love me like you do! Touch me like you do! Ta-Ta-Touch me like you do! What are
you waiting fooooooor?"
"Catchy."
===============================================================================
 
After half an hour of off-key singing from both individuals, they made their
way back to Sam's house, Detective Wesson and his car no where in sight. Dean
walked Sam up to his door.
"Well, this is my stop." Sam said quietly.
"So it is." Dean said, eyes casting a dark shadow.
"I wanna thank you for a great night, Dean. I had a lot of fun with you and
I..."
"What's up, Sammy?"
Sam's body trembled and he blushed profusely as he leaned up to kiss Dean. He
wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled back to speak.
"I love you too." Sam said, smiling shyly.
Dean stifled a light gasp, his eyes went wide at Sam's long-awaited
declaration. He cradled the student's head in his hands.
"Say that again." Dean rasped.
"I...love you."
"More."
"I love you."
Dean kissed Sam hungrily. He needed to feel Sam. He needed to breathe him. To
taste him. He wanted Sam.
"Your dad's not home. Could be out until morning."
"It's a...possibility." Sam said. His entire face was flushed red and heated
up.
"I wanna make love to you, Sammy. In your bed this time."
Sam took Dean's hand in his own, opening the door to his family home.
"Okay."
***** Thanks For The Memories (And The Lies) *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean joins the Wesson clan for Thanksgiving where certain things come
     into the light.
     Sam makes a tough decision concerning his relationship.
Chapter Notes
     Please forgive me for any spelling errors. I don't have a Beta yet so
     please try to overlook any minor mistakes.
     Comment/Subscribe/Give Kudos! <3
Sam winced as the bright light of the sun shone though his window and smacked
against his sleeping form. He grunted when he raised his hand and shielded his
eyes. He also had a mini heart attack when he heard another person in his bed.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that the person was only Dean.
The man was laid out on his back, lips parted as he snored softly. 
Sam leaned over to press a kiss on Dean causing the man to stir and groan. Dean
shifted and rolled over to face Sam, still asleep. 
"Sam, I'm home!"
The world stopped the young man as his father's voice resonated around the
house. Dean shot right up wide-eyed and looked at Sam. 
"I'm guessing you didn't say that." Dean said as he flipped the blankets off of
him. He searched for his underwear and clothes.
"Oh shit. I didn't fucking think this through! Last night was just so--"
"Romantic?" Dean smirked as he pulled on his pants.
"Very romantic." 
"Sammy? You in your room?" Rick called.
Both Dean and Sam were almost finished putting on his clothes when Sam called
back.
"Yeah! Just give me a second!"
"No, that's okay! Don't get up, I'll come to you!"
Dean whispered a swear as he hurriedly put on his shoes and coat. "Where the
fuck am I gonna go?"
"Out the window." Sam said, grabbing Dean's arm. He opened the window and
showed Dean a safe passage down to the lawn. "I used to sneak out all the
time."
"Not so innocent, are you?"
"I stopped being innocent the night you saved my life." Sam rambled. He briefly
helped Dean get through the window.
"I told you that I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I love you."
"Love you too. Now hurry up!"
Dean scurried down onto the lawn, catching his keys when Sam threw them down.
He winked and jogged off to his car. Sam shut the window and closed the blinds,
jumping back on the bed. 
His door opened, revealing a tired and worn out Rick. He held his jacket in his
hand; he looked like a frickin zombie.
"Ugh...being a cop is so demanding..." Rick said flopping on Sam's bed. Sam
ignored the fact that, not too long ago, he and Dean romped around in it's very
sheets.
"It's what you wanted to do, Pop. Save people." Sam made room for his dad.
"Mhm. And it's exhausting. Promise me that you'll never go into law
enforcement." Rick grumbled into the pillow.
"I was thinking about being a stripper. My stage name could be Chocolate
Moose."
"Very promising career. Beats being a lawyer by a long shot I'll tell you that.
The name needs work though."
"Oh, well fuck you." Sam laughed.
"I'd rather sleep, thank you very much."
"Not in my bed. Go to yours."
Rick whined like a child as he lifted his head up. "Noooo. Yours is so
comfortable." He draped himself over Sam's lap.
"Oof! Get off me!" Sam giggled. "You're heavy as fuck!"
"I can't hear you, I'm sleeping."
"You're built like a damn tank, Dad! Stop crushing my legs!"
"Leave me alone. I'm sleeping."
Ding Dong!
Rick growled at the sound of the door bell. He hauled himself in a sitting
position. "Fuckin door bell..."
"Oh but you heard that shit, right?" Sam snarked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. You must be imagining things."
Ding Dong!
"Ugh!" Rick groaned. "You gonna get that?"
Sam gave his father a bitch face. "Really? You can't get it?"
"Nope. I'm tired and fucking hungry, Sam."
"I'll make you a deal," Sam sighed. "If you answer the door, I'll make
breakfast for my aging father."
Rick scrubbed his hand over his face and beard. "Deal. I hate you sometimes."
"Except for the times you don't." Sam said as he manhandled his father out of
his bed."
The bell had rung one final time before Rick lazily opened the door. He was
greeted by the smile of a familiar face.
"Hello, Detective Wesson."
"It's Rick, Dean." He chuckled. "If I have to call you by your first name, I'd
rather treat you with the same kindness. Come on in."
Dean smiled, stepping through the threshold of the house. Sam poked his head
through the entrance of the kitchen to see Dean come in. "Hi, Sam. Good
Morning." Rick just barely missed the seductively look Dean flashed at his son.
"Good Morning, Dean." The boy replied before going back to preparing breakfast.
"So," Rick said. "What brings you by here on a Saturday morning?"
"Actually, I wanted to personally congratulate Sam. He currently has the
highest grades in my class." 
"Sam! Come here a minute!" Rick yelled. There was slight clatter in the kitchen
as Sam responded with a short but quick 'Okay'. He came into the main hall to
stand next to his dad. "Dean said that your grades exceed everyone else's in
his class."
Sam faked being surprised. Of course he knew! If he were being honest, he'd say
he was the smartest fuckin kid in that school. "Wow! That's amazing. Thanks."
Dean gave Sam a short hug. "No, it was all you Sam. You're smart and I have no
doubt that you'll do great things."
Rick returned the smile that Dean had given him. The poor bastard had no idea
that the man was fucking his son on an almost regular basis. 
"Oh, that reminds me: Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving? I just wanted to
thank you for...Sam, ya know? I mean, you don't even have to stay, you can just
swing by and--"
"I'd love to, Rick." Dean grinned.
"Nice! Oh and I don't mean to keep you here but would you also like to have
breakfast with us?"
Dean looked from Rick to Sam. "Yeah, sure. Okay. Who's cooking?"
Sam raised a hand and gave Dean a cocky smile. "That would be me."
"Wonderful. I can help if you want."
"My pleasure."
===============================================================================
 
It was weird for Sam. Weird that his Forbidden Boyfriend/English Teacher was
eating pancakes with him and his father. Life is strange.
The two adults talked about everything, ranging from sports to guns. Sam
watched them with feigned curiosity. The conversation was beginning to bore him
until his father asked Dean a question.
"Hey, I've just noticed that you look so familiar. Have we met before?"
Sam looked over at Dean who seemed slightly uncomfortable. He saw that the
man's jaw was clenched, a move that often meant he was angry or hated talking
about something.
"No, I don't believe we have." Dean replied, voice at neutral.
Rick frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "You sure? It's just...you look like someone
I've met before. I just can't figure it out."
"Beats me." Dean said, face going back to it's original cocky and sure
expression.
Sam ate silently, mind working overtime.
===============================================================================
 
Thanksgiving was always a holiday that Sam hated. The reason being was that
he'd have to interact with relatives that he either despised or he didn't want
to see. Other than that, the food was fantastic thanks to him and Rick. Dean
had thankfully arrived before anyone else to help out. At times when Rick
wasn't looking, he'd steal kisses and touches from the boy.
By 6:00 in the evening, all of the guests were there, handing Rick homemade
meals to serve on the table. Sam grimaced as his Aunt Diana droned on and on
about her cat and how she missed her.
Dean, who sat next to Sam, leaned in subtly and whispered in Sam's ear, "If she
doesn't shut the fuck up, I'm gonna stuff this tablecloth down her fuckin
throat."
Sam immediately snickered, covering his mouth when she looked his way. He
smiled at Diana as he smacked Dean's leg under the table.
===============================================================================
 
Several minor conversations were being held around the table, everyone having a
say or two about that topic of interest. Sam and Dean sat peacefully next to
each other, occasionally taking a bite out of their food and kicking one
another playfully.
"So, Dean," Sam's Uncle Mike said. "Have any family here?"
Dean's jaw clenched again. "Uh, no. I don't have anyone anymore. My brother
dies a few years ago." He looked at Rick before he turned back to Mike. "Killed
by a cop in cold blood. Tortured, actually. Never caught the guy...yet."
The entire table went silent as he spoke, even Sam. Dean had never told him
that. Why? Was it because it was probably too painful or because he never
asked. Before Sam could utter a word, Dean spoke again.
"These potatoes are delicious. Who made them?"
And just like that, Sam knew that the conversation was over.
===============================================================================
 
After the dinner, Dean left while thanking everyone. He texted Sam to wait
outside around the corner in half an hour. Making an excuse to his father about
going to Ruby's, Sam did what Dean said. He picked him up in his car and drove
them to Dean's apartment.
===============================================================================
 
"I love you, Sammy! I love you so fuckin much, baby!"
"Me too, De! Me too!"
Sam sat on Dean's lap with the older man hugging him close to his chest as Sam
rode them both through a shattering climax. 
Sam slumped on top of Dean, huffing and panting. Sweat formed on his forehead
and his hair stuck to it. "Animal..."
"That's why you love me. I'm wild." Dean responded as he gently pulled himself
out of Sam. He took a towel and started cleaning up the both of them. "You
thirsty?"
"I'm a little parched." 
Dean nodded, tossing the towel away. "Water or juice?"
"Water, Jerk." Sam laughed.
Dean grinned. "Bitch." He kissed Sam again then. "I gotta piss so it's gonna be
a bit. Be right back." He sauntered off naked and shut the bedroom door behind
him.
Just as he left, Dean's phone began to chime. Sam looked over at it. Out of
sheer curiosity and concern, he unlocked the phone and saw that Dean had a
message...from a man named Crowley.
"Crowley..." Sam said quietly. He heard that name before. It was faint but that
name had a ring to it somewhere.
"Ya gonna behave for Uncle Crowley?"
Sam's heart stuttered in his chest. Why was that pedophile texting Dean? Is he
threatening him? Does Dean...know him personally?
He nearly tossed the phone. It wasn't possible...right? Dean couldn't have
known the guy.
Determined to find out the truth, Sam unlocked the phone and opened the
message.
Happy Thanksgiving, Sunshine. Hope you're spending it with that lovely Flower
of yours. 
A bitter taste formed in his mouth at the sight of the words. "Flower" is what
the man had called him. Because his mind felt obligated to, Sam flipped through
the other messages of Dean and Crowley, finding a very disturbing conversation.
===============================================================================
 
I need a favor, Crowley 
For the love of god, if you ask me to go to another karaoke bar, I'm blocking
your number.
No, it's serious. I need you to pretend that you're going to rape the kid I've
been talking about.
Aha! You're finally making your move, huh? Alright, I'm in. Are you sure you
want it to be pretend? That kid really looks so damn good.
You can touch him a little bit but no heavy stuff. He's mine, got that?
Can't promise anything. Where will he be?
Right now, he's at the local park. I'm watching him. I'll send you the plan.
===============================================================================
 
Sam slammed the phone down on the bed, quickly putting on his clothes. As he
Laced his sneakers, Dean walked back in with a smile on his face.
"Sorry I took so long..."
His face fell when he saw Sam fully clothed. "What's going on? Family trouble?"
He looked on the bed and saw his phone, unlocked and on the message tab. He
looked back at Sam with pleading eyes. "Sammy...what did you do?"
Sam was furious. "No, Dean, what the fuck did you do!? You...You used me."
"No! No, I--I only just wanted to impress you. Help you like me more."
Sam looked at Dean with pure disgust, which tore the older man's heart apart.
"You're sick. You're so sick, Dean. You need help. It's over."
Dean shook his head in disbelief; he chuckled low and his demeanor changed
slightly. "What--What are you saying? You're just confused, that's all. Get
back in bed."
"No! I'm not confused! It's over between us! I trusted you...I loved you. But
now I know you never loved me." Sam tried to get past Dean but the teacher
blocked his path with his huge frame. The man looked at him with a hardened
gaze.
"Don't ever think that I never loved you. I loved you as soon as I saw you!
Just get back in THE FUCKING BED, SAM!"
Sam recoiled at Dean's outburst. As quickly as he became scared, he became
angry as well, slapping the man in his face.
"Goodbye, Dean." Sam said with finality. Dean gripped his wrist hard.
"I'll never let you go, Sammy. You're mine."
Sam snatched his hand away and ran out the door.
 
***** Haunting You, Haunting Me *****
Chapter Summary
     Delve into the mind of Dean Smith as he begins his downward spiral
     into madness.
Chapter Notes
     This entire chapter is a POV of Dean. Trying something new here.
     Yaaay lol. So if there's any errors, forgive me. Enjoy, everyone!!
The words still resonated around in my head, taunting me. I sat at my kitchen
table, drinking my fifth bottle of whisky.
"It's over. Goodbye, Dean."
I growl as I take the bottle and throw it at the wall, the sound of it
colliding is pleasing to my ears. I want to break more things. I want to hurt
someone. Kill them. 
My fingers twitch as I bring them to my pounding head. This shit's driving me
crazy! All I ever did was love him! How could he not see that!? I'm the only
who loves him besides that father of his.
I cringe at the thought of Rick Wesson. Mr. Fucking Detective. Every time I
look at his face, I see Adam, crying in my arms again, begging me to stop the
pain. 
The rage I had came back at me full force as I flipped the entire fucking table
over. Everything falls to the floor, including my medication. Fuck that shit.
Never liked taking it anyways. Makes me docile, weak. 
"Can't even take care of your fuckin brother, Dean! You're a fuckin pussy!
Weak!"
"No!" I sob at the voice in my head. It's oddly familiar. I realize then that
it's not just a random voice, it's my father's. And it's a memory. That fuckin
bastard. "I'm not weak! I'm not weak!" I continue to cover my ears as I stumble
on the hardwood floor.
Eventually, his voice disappears and I can breathe normally again. This is the
price I pay for not taking my meds...but I don't care. I just don't fuckin care
about anything else than my Sammy. My beautiful Sammy. Mine. All mine and no
one else's. 
He just needs some time to cool down. Yeah, that's all. Just some space to
recover. 
I kicked myself mentally at the memory of the phone. I pick up the nearest
object and hurl it at the wall. Why the fuck did I not put a lock on the damn
thing!? I'm so fuckin stupid! 
I sit in the couch and reach underneath it for a pack of cigarettes and an
ashtray. I haven't smoked since I moved to this shithole town but now I'm
craving like a mad man. I take a couple of drags and think about what my baby's
doing. Probably home by now, helping Rick put away everything. Maybe after take
a shower. My dick starts to react to the thought of him naked and I immediately
take action, my cigarette long forgotten in the ashtray.
I sit back on the couch as I let my hand grip my cock through my jeans; I start
to imagine that it's Sam's hand. A lewd moan escapes my lips as I stroke my
dick to full hardness, precum staining my boxers. I unzip my pants and pull
down the underwear, my dick springing free. I shiver a bit when I play with the
head, still thinking about My Sammy, his lips wrapped around it as he slowly
jerk himself off. 
"Dean, I'm sorry about earlier," I imagine him say. "Let me make it up to you."
"Yeah, Baby. Make it up to me!" I moan.
I imagine him sucking on my cock just the way I like it, tongue massaging the
underside of it. Him caressing my balls as I shove my cock deep in his throat.
When he starts to gag, I pull it out and he looks up at me with those innocent
eyes of his.
"Did I do good, Dean?"
"You did great, Baby. Now turn around so I can get you ready."
My hand starts pumping my dick harder as I think of him bending over in front
of me, his delicious young hole presented to me like a fucking birthday cake. 
I automatically dive in, face buried between his bare cheeks. He tries to cover
up a moan but I scold him for that.
"No one else here, Sammy. Just you and me. Don't be ashamed."
"I'm sorry, De."
"It's okay. Just want you to feel good."
The imagery is so vivid in my head, I can't practically feel his sweet hole
around my tongue. So delicious. So Sammy.
I stand us up and tear off the rest of his clothes; he doesn't need them. I
lift him up in my arms and slam his back against the wall. I haul his legs up
and sink my dick all the way in until I'm fully sheathed inside his hear. I
smirk to myself as I think about Sam's invigorating moan of pleasure. Once I'm
inside, I piston in and out of him, expertly hitting his sweet spot.
"Daddy! Fuck me harder, Daddy!"
I almost cum right there. I fuckin love it when he calls me that. Gives me
satisfaction.
"I'm fucking you, Baby." I pant. "I'll fuck you as hard as you want!"
"Daddy, I'm coming!"
"I'm coming too, Baby Boy. Cum around my dick! Ah, shit!"
I growl as I spray my stomach with my seed; some gets splattered on my right
cheek and neck. My hand and stomach basically get the brunt of it all. 
I sit there on the couch, completely dazed out and worn from the climax. My
mind drifts back to Sammy then. I'm sure he's fine. Everything'll be fine
between us Monday morning.
===============================================================================
 
I had never been so wrong in my entire life. Not only was he not talking to or
looking at me, but when class was over he was actually the first one out. What
the hell! My resolve nearly cracked when I almost threw everything off the
desk. I calmed myself quickly. It's just a phase, he'll be okay later on.
I texted him later that night, asking if he was free. 
Dean, stop. Just stop texting me! What you did was unforgivable and disgusting.
The only relationship we have now is Teacher and Student, nothing more. We're
done.
I didn't bother replying back because I broke the phone. Sam is mine. He can't
quit me. He's just angry, that's all. He really doesn't mean what he's saying. 
Tomorrow, I'll speak with him.
===============================================================================
 
When the bell rang, I immediately spoke to Sam.
"Mr. Wesson, I need to have a word with you."
He looked everywhere else but at me. I became furious, but I managed to keep my
cool for the moment.
"My next class--"
"Is Study Hall. Take a seat."
I watch all of the students pile out, including those freaky friends of his.
They don't love him. Not like I do. They don't matter. I hurriedly walk over to
the door, shutting it and locking it afterwards. 
"You've been avoiding me, Sammy."
"It's Sam." 
That infuriated me more than anything. I stride over to his seat and haul him
up, grabbing his arm.
"Stop it, Dean!" He cries. He tried to get away but it wasn't working. My grip
was too strong. I tossed everything I had on the desk on the ground and put him
on it. "Let me go! Stop--"
"No, you stop!" I hissed. My patience was wearing thin and he wasn't helping.
"Stop fighting me! Just give in to my love like usual. Don't fight me, Sammy."
"You're so sick, Dean! Stop! Someone, help m-mmpfh!"
I held my hand over his mouth to silence him. I couldn't have the staff and
students hear us, could I? No, this was a private moment. I had to prove to Sam
that I love him and always will! That we'll always be together no matter what!
I turned him around and yanked his sweatpants down, discovering that he hadn't
worn any underwear. I smirk.
"Oh, gosh, Sammy. For me?"
I didn't expect an honest answer. Not that he could without yelling. He just
kept yelling in my hand. I briefly sucked on three of my fingers then pushed
them inside his ass. As expected, Sam squealed and squirmed a bit but I held
him down. 
"Remember when we first had sex, Sam?" I crooned in his ear. "Remember when I
told you to relax and be still? Well you need to do that now and stop fighting
me. Accept me, accept that what we have is forever!" 
Both Sam and I moaned when I shoved my dick in. I felt wetness around the back
of my hand and realized that he was crying. Hm. Tears of joy no doubt! He
must've been enjoying the makeup sex!
"No one, not even your lying sack of shit father, is gonna keep me from you!" I
vowed. "I'll take what's mine and he will tremble. He'll tremble and beg just
like Adam!"
Soon after, I came right up inside my baby, satisfied that he allowed this to
happen. I pulled out and began tucking my dick away, Sam crumpled to the floor
and began to sob. I was Alarmed and helped him put on his pants.
"Sammy, you okay? What's the matter?"
Sam recoiled from my touch, a move I wasn't accustomed to. "Get away from
me...stay away..."
"Baby, I thought that--"
Sam huffed a laugh. I knew from the way he sounded that he found nothing funny
at all.
"You 'thought'. You didn't think about what you just did, did you? You just
raped me! I didn't want it, Dean. I don't want you!"
I frowned. Why was Sammy saying these things about me? It's not true! I love
him and he loves me! 
"Of course you do! Stop--stop saying that!"
"Fuck you...I hate you, you understand that? I hate you, Dean!"
My eyes went wide and wild as Sam said those three words. He said it with such
finality that it was unbearable.
"Weak! You're so damn weak, Dean!" I heard my father yell in my head. "Fuckin
pussy. Kill the damn cop and take the boy! He still loves you! Just fuckin do
it!"
"Yea--Yeah, Dad! Of course!" I say to the wind. "I'll go right now! He'll love
me again! Sammy'll love me again!" 
I smiled down at Sam you just looked at me as though he was confused. I forced
our lips together in a heated kiss even if he barely reciprocated. Against his
will, I fixed him up and pulled up his pants.
"Come on, let's go." I said.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." Sam spat at me. 
I reach for my jacket pocket and produce the .45 Colt that I bought a long time
ago.
"I said, let's go."
Sam grabs his backpack and jacket, shrugging both on in a hurry.
"Where are we going? And what are you planning on doing?"
All I did was kiss his forehead and say,
"Securing our future."
***** You Will Be Mine *****
Chapter Summary
     Rick becomes skeptical of Dean.
     Dean goes mad as Sam watches helplessly.
     Innocent people are hurt.
Chapter Notes
     This was intended to be the final chapter but I made up my mind that
     that wouldn't be the case. Don't worry, everyone, your favorite
     psychopath and his boy will be in upcoming chapters! Enjoy! <3
     (Forgive the errors)
Sighing, Rick closed all tabs on his computer. He looked at the time again. It
was 8:30 PM and he hadn't bothered to call Sam; he totally forgot. He had been
searching up on Dean Smith for hours and had found nothing. Literally nothing
on the man. He even stopped working on that missing persons case for a few
hours. Rick forgot his name but he knew that the boy went to school with Sam.
What was his name? Brody? Brady? Rick couldn't remember.
Ever since Thanksgiving dinner, Rick started becoming skeptical about the
charismatic and smooth talking man. There was definitely something wrong with
him, Rick was sure of that. He also noticed a certain look that he gave his
son. His 16-Year-Old Son. Something was really wrong.
As he pulled out his phone to call Sam, it rung first, the caller revealed to
be Sam. He immediately answered it.
"Sammy! Sammy, are you okay?"
"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."
"Are you home? Are you by yourself?"
There was a prolonged silence over the phone that left Rick with a since of
dread.
"Sam! Are you there?"
"...Yeah. I'm home. I'm alright. Can you just...can you come home? I, uh, I
don't feel...safe."
Rick sensed that Sam was in some kind of trouble then. He sounded distressed
and scared and almost like he had been crying.
"Sam, listen carefully. If Dean comes by, don't answer the door, I think he's
dangerous. And remember what I showed you, okay? I'm on my way, Sammy. I love
you."
"I love you too, Dad..."
Rick's heart broke a little as he heard his son sob slightly. He hung up the
phone and grabbed his keys.
===============================================================================
 
Sam sobbed as he let the phone fall to the floor. His father had warned him to
stay away from Dean...but he sat next to him on the couch with a pistol resting
on the coffee table.
"Great acting, Sammy." Dean praised. He licked a stripe up Sam's neck. The boy
groaned and got up only to be pulled back down into the man's lap. "Where ya
goin, baby? The fun part's about to happen!"
"What's wrong with you!?" Sam yelled, trying and failing to pry away Dean's
wandering hands. "What do you want from my dad!?"
Dean roared as he pushed Sam onto the couch harshly and kicked the coffee table
over. "I FUCKING WANT JUSTICE! THAT SON OF A BITCH RUINED--!" Dean quickly cut
himself off and ran a few fingers through his hair, inhaling and exhaling
slowly. "I just need to have a few words with him." 
"Dean...what's happening to you?" Sam weeped. 
"I'm seeing clearly for the first time in my life," Dean picked up his pistol
and tucked it in his waistband. "And it feels sooooo good. I can see that
you're afraid, Sammy. You shouldn't be. I love you so much." 
He closed the distance between the two of them and gripped the back of Sam's
neck and kissed him deeply. "Don't you love me?"
Out of fear for his father's and his own life, Sam agreed and slowly dragged
his hands down Dean's chest. "Of course..I was just--just not...feeling like
myself. I'm just nervous is all."
Dean grinned like a wolf and bracketed Sam's face with his huge hands. "It's
okay. It's all okay. I forgive you."
Ding Dong!
Dean pulled out his gun at the bell. He placed a finger over his lips,
signaling Sam to be quiet. The boy complied and sank into himself on the couch.
Dean hid the gun behind his back as he opened the front door. What he saw is
what he didn't expect, it wasn't part of his plans.
"Mr. Smith?" Gabriel said, expression confused. He was accompanied by Ruby,
both holding bags of goodies. "What are you doing here?"
Dean feigned a smile. "Gabriel. Ruby. I presume that the both of you are here
for Sam?"
"Yeah..." Ruby answered, suspicion rising in waves. She repeated Gabriel's
question. "Why are you here? Where's Sam?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm here for Detective Wesson, but Sam let me in
to wait for him. If you guys wanna see him, come on in." Dean moved out of
their way as the two teens slowly made their way in.
Gabriel entered the living room with Ruby close behind. They gasped when they
saw the coffee table smashed to pieces with Sam nowhere in sight.
"Dammit." Dean mumbled under his breath.
Ruby turned to Dean, clearly furious. "What the hell is going on here? Where
the fuck is Sam?"
"Oh like you really fuckin care." Dean snapped. "You two make me sick,
especially you, you fucking slut! You just wanna pawn him off to the highest
bidder!"
"Who the fuck do you think you are!?" Ruby yelled. Gabriel held her back from
the equally angry man.
"The man with the fucking gun!" Dean screamed as he flashed them his pistol. 
Gabriel quickly put his hands over his head, beckoning for Ruby to do the same.
However, she seemed unmoved.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled. "Get out here, baby, or I kill your friends! If you come
out, I'll let you pick which one lives!"
"Dude, just be cool." Gabriel shook nervously. "We won't tell anyone. Just let
us go."
Dean started to chuckle then. Eventually, it turned into cackling and full on
crazy laughing.
"You're fucking crazy." Ruby spat at Dean. He stopped laughing and sneered at
her. "He's fucking lyi--"
Bang!
Dean pulled the trigger and both he and Gabriel watched as Ruby's body slumped
to the floor, bullet hole between her eyes.
"I'm actually not." Dean smirked.
Gabriel screamed, catching Dean off guard and pushing him to the floor.
"Sam!" Gabriel yelled as he ran up the stairs. He only made it halfway though,
because Dean shot him in the back.
The boy came tumbling down the stairs and came to a sudden stop at the bottom.
Dean kicked the unmoving body of the kid, smiling when he showed no signs of
living. Dean looked up as he saw Sam running down the stairs, tears staining
his cheeks. He looked at both of his friend's bodies and up at Dean.
"You...you killed them. You killed my best friends..."
"They weren't your friends, Sammy."
Sam yelled at Dean as he repeatedly punched the man's chest, the hits unfazed
him.
"Ahh! Why!? Why!? They've never done anything to you! I hate you! I hate you!"
Dean pet Sam's hair as he had his episode. He kissed the top of his head and
shushed him in a soothing voice.
"It's okay. It's okay, Baby. You don't mean that. I know you don't. You're just
a little upset. I'll take care of you."
Dean carried Sam into the living room and sat them down on the couch; his body
draped over the boy's.
"Let me take care of you." Dean whispered.
Sam struggled and squirmed under Dean. "No...please. Stop it."
"Don't fight me, Sammy. Accept me."
Dean stopped his advances when he heard Sam's phone ring from down on the
carpet. He looked at it and saw that it was Rick. He climbed off of Sam and
stomped on the phone.
"Daddy must be worried." Dean huffed. "That's okay." He unholstered his gun and
smiled warmly at his young lover. "We have some work to do." 
***** Revelations *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean reveals the truth to Sam and Rick about everything that's
     happened thus far.
     Sam becomes who he was meant to be.
Chapter Notes
     This is it guys. The finaaaaaal chaaapteeeer! I'm sooo sorry that
     this has to happen but I actually have made it my mission to continue
     this as a brand-new series! Booyah! Enjoy! <3
"You've reached Sam Wesson. Sorry I can't answer the phone right now but leave
a message and I'll ring you back!"
"Fuck!" 
Rick cursed as he heard Sam's voice-mail. He slammed his foot on the gas and
sped up, narrowly avoiding other cars in the street. Rick swore under his
breath.
"Sam, why won't you answer!?" He yelled in his head. "Please be okay. I'm
coming. Dad's coming, son. I won't let that bastard hurt you."
In order to stop thinking about what possibly happened to his son, Rick let his
mind wander around a bit back to Thanksgiving dinner. He couldn't shake the
implications that Dean was giving off.
"Killed by a cop. Tortured, actually."
Rick's heart beat wildly in his chest. No...it couldn't be. His mind flashed
back to the day he found the dead body of his wife in the bathroom of the bank,
beaten and raped severely. The man who ran out of the back, shooting and
covered in blood. The man who looked similar to Dean Smith. The man who he
killed.
===============================================================================
 Rick threw himself out of the car, leaving his keys in the ignition as he saw
the front door wide open. He took his gun from his holster and aimed it in
front of his face. The walk to the house seemed to be almost an eternity,
Rick's heartbeat being the only thing he could hear. 
"Oh my god." He whispered when he saw the bodies of Sam's two friends. The look
on his face changed from posses off to scared in two seconds. "Sam!"
"Dad.."
Rick heard his son's voice coming from the den; he sounded weakened. The man
dashed in and saw his hands and ankles bound sitting on the recliner. He rushed
over to him and fiddled with the bonds.
"No, no, Dad, you have to stop." Sam cried. 
"It's okay, it'll only take a second." Rick whispered. Tears clung to his eyes
as he looked upon his son. He sat his gun under the chair.
"No you have to listen!" Sam protested, talking a mile a minute. "He's still
here, he's in the house. Dad, what's going on? Why is he doing this?"
"Because he did something awful, Sammy."
When Rick turned around and was knocked unconscious immediately when Dean hit
him with the broken coffee table leg.
===============================================================================
 Everything sounded like he was underwater. The noises were garbled up and
jumbled. The world seemed to be spinning around very fast as Rick opened his
eyes. His vision was slightly blurred but he could make out two figures on his
couch. 
"Nn...sto...plea." 
He couldn't make out most of the words but his mind told him to be alert. His
vision became a little clearer then and he saw a partially naked figure sitting
in another one's lap, clearly trying to escape.
"Stop fightin...accept..."
Rick couldn't handle the pressure on his brain so he blacked out once again.
===============================================================================
 Sam sat on the corner of the couch wearing only his hoodie and boxer briefs,
watching Dean tuck his flaccid cock back in his pants. He couldn't believe that
he was raped again but in front of his father this time. Of course, Dean would
say it was "making love" despite Sam fighting him every step of the way. He
even briefly grabbed his neck, telling him to "Behave or I'll have to drug you
up and both you and I wouldn't want that".
He looked on helpless as Dean applied more duct tape to Rick's wrists and
ankles. He was bound to a dinning chair, wrists locked to the arms and ankles
bound to the legs.
"Why are you doing this?" Sam mumbled. Dean paused what he was doing, back
still turned to Sam. "Why do you wanna hurt me? My family!"
Dean shuffled over to kiss Sam. "I'd never hurt you. You know that."
Sam shook his head, scoffing as he showed Dean a bruise on his thigh. "All
you've done lately was hurt me, Dean. Now I'll ask again, why do you wanna hurt
me and my family?"
"You? Never," Dean looked at the bruise. "Well, never intentionally, but him,"
Dean pointed his gun at Rick. "He has a lot to answer for!"
"What does that mean?" Sam asked as he hugged his knees to his chest.
"You'll find out more in a sec, actually."
Dean got back up and backhanded Rick across the face as hard as he could. The
force combined with the severity of the hit made the cop snap awake, pale grey
eyes wide.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ricky! We've missed you didn't we,
Sammy?"
Sam crawled over to his father and hugged him tight. "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so
sorry..."
"Sammy, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Rick said in panicked breaths. "What's
happening?"
Dean huffed a sigh of annoyance at Rick. He scratched his scalp with the barrel
of the gun and groaned. "Shut the fuck, Ricky. Sammy's fine." He walked up
behind Sam and picked him up, left hand coming down to grope the boy's privates
through his underwear. "Real fine right, Baby?"
"Ughn!" Sam sobbed.
"Let him go! Leave my boy alone, you son of a bitch!" Rick cursed.
Dean sucked on Sam's neck much to Rick's dismay. He continued to touch the boy
on various parts of his body. "Nah...he's not your boy, he's mine. He stopped
being yours when I slipped my cock up his delicious ass. Mmm, it was so good.
He begged and begged me to keep going. 'Fuck me, Dean! Right there!'."
Rick's eyes were brimming with tears. "Sammy? Is it...? Did you?"
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry." Sam wept.
"Yes!" Dean shouted deliriously. "Of course it's true! I'm fucking Sam Wesson,
son of the venerable Detective Rick Wesson! That's our secret. Our dirty,
nasty, erotic secret."
Dean let go of Sam and gently tossed him on the couch. Father and son locked
eyes with each other, Rick saddened and vengeful, Sam wounded and broken.
"So that's our secret, Pops." Dean said in a sing-song voice. "But what's
yours? Aren't you really gonna tell Baby Boy what really went down two years
ago?"
"Dad...?"
Rick's face paled. "Sammy, listen to me--"
"Did you know he killed my baby brother, Sam?" Dean spat. "He tortured him for
hours only to leave him to die in my arms!"
Everyone was silent at the sudden revelation. Sam gaped at his father with
something akin to distrust. Rick silently pleaded with his son to understand
but the boy reluctantly looked away from both men.
"So, as I was saying," Dean continued. "Dear old dad ruthlessly killed my Adam
down. He was only a kid, you fucking murderer!"
"Me?" Rick asked incredulously. "I'm the murderer!? There's two dead teenagers
in the fucking hallway, you monster!"
Dean chuckled low in his throat. "You know, If I were you, I wouldn't talk that
way to the GUY THAT HAS THE GODDAMN GUN!"
Sam crawled his way to kneel next to Rick, looking at him with eyes full of
determination.
"Tell me what's going on. Now!" Rick turned his head away but Sam gripped his
jaw, turning his face back. "The truth. I need to know everything."
"I'll begin," Dean spoke, taking a seat on the recliner. "Since it starts and
ends with me."
===============================================================================
 
I grew up as Dean Winchester, in family that most people would label as "White
trash" or "Dirt poor" and I'm not fuckin proud of that, mind you. My mom was a
goddamn slut and my dad was an abusive alcoholic. A recipe for disaster, right?
My little brother was the only thing in my life that had meaning. I always took
care of him, ever since he was born. Then our mom died in a fire that took our
home, leaving just me, Adam and dad.
The years went by and we all end up taking jobs to support the house. Dad ended
up working at a junkyard and I took to working down at the repair shop as a
part-time mechanic. Now Adam, Adam was a nice looking kid at 17. He was a hot
slice a cake, had my fill of him from time to time, with or without his
consent. He still looked up to me. Anyway, he became what our mother was: a
tramp. He'd take female and male customers alike and it drove me nuts.
I yelled, naturally. I fucked him right afterwards too. Dad caught us when I
was balls deep in Adam, shouting stuff that I couldn't really understand but I
wasn't really paying attention. Then he started talking about splitting us up
and I just...fucking snapped! I pulled out of Adam and grabbed the gun from
under my pillow and fired a round right in the heart. Adam cried but he got
over it eventually. We were free from the tyranny of John Winchester. Told the
cop's a junkie broke in and assaulted us and they ate that shit it up!
Skipping ahead a few more years, I start feeling weird on my 23rd birthday, I
start hearing my dad and mom talking to me and shit. Weird stuff. We went to
the doctor and the old fuck started saying that I had some mental disease,
schizophrenia, that made me hear and see shit that I wasn't supposed to. Adam,
always fussing over me, insisted that we get the medication for me. Imagine the
look on my damn face when I was presented with a bottle of pills a couple days
later.
Fast forwarding ten years, our financial situation is getting worse and worse
by the day. My meds were costing us some serious cash and not one of us
graduated so there wasn't really any jobs out there for us. That's when Adam
started talking about robbing this bank and shit. I immediately brushed it off
as some stupid idea and fucked the hell outta him later on. The next day I find
out that the motherfucker holds some bitch hostage in a bathroom at the damn
place, fuck her, kills her, then fucks her again.
That should be that though, right? The end of that? No. No, it gets fuckin
better. Adam escapes somehow but he gets hounded by the dead bitch's husband.
When I tell you the guy was vicious, I mean Freddy Krueger would've been
fucking impressed. The guy tortured my baby brother, left him a bloody mess. He
was almost unrecognizable when I got there. Unfortunately, the pig left so I
couldn't get my hands on him. Fortunately, however, before he died in my arms,
he managed to give me a name: Rick Wesson.
I spent two years looking for that bastard, planning out the perfect murder. I
find out the bastard had a fuckin kid so I changed my name and got a fake
degree. You'll be amazed at the shit you can do online nowadays. I was gonna
fuck the kid right in front of the cocksucker and kill them both. Everything
was perfect, until I saw the kid. So beautiful, so goddamn pure like my Adam.
So...good that I just had to taste. I had to have him first before anything
else. It wasn't long until I actually started to gain feelings for the kid.
I fell in love with Sam Wesson and he fell in love with me. His father was a
murderer and I had to get rid of him but it was just so damn hard. He had some
sort of hold on me that I couldn't fully understand and I loved and hated it at
the same time.
So now you know. Now you know why I'm doing what I'm doing now. If you think
about it, it's sorta like poetic and shit. 
===============================================================================
 
Sam couldn't believe everything he just heard.
"No...No it's not true. It can't be true. Stop..."
"Oh it's all true, Sammy. Your Daddy's a lying, sack of shit murderer. He
tortured my brother for hours...he would've been so scared." Dean crooned. "You
didn't see him. He was torn to ribbons."
"He killed my wife!" Rick shouted. "He killed my Mary! She never hurt anyone!
He had to pay...I don't regret what I did, I'd do it again if I had the
chance!"
Dean held the gun up to Rick's temple, hand trembling and finger on the
trigger. "SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! STOP TALKING!"
"What's your endgame here, Dean? You gonna kill me and take Sam? Ride off in
the sunset!? You're so delusional! You've hurt him so many times. He'll leave
you...just like Adam."
Dean's eyes were abnormally wide with anger. When he spoke, his voice was
gravelly and threatening. "Sammy, say goodbye to your father. It's time to go."
"No!" Sam yelled hugging Dean's midsection. "No, please let me just...let me
talk to him, please? Please, Dean."
The man seemed to relax a bit, lowering his gun. "You have one minute." He
kissed Sam and sat back down on the couch.
Sam hugged his father and cried deeply. He wasn't prepared for this. In his
mind, he thought, no one was really prepared to watch a loved one die before
their very eyes.
"Dad...I wish this all never happened...I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's okay, Sammy. It'll be alright. You'll be fine." Rick subtly
gestured for Sam to come closer. He quickly whispered in Sam's ear. "My gun is
under the recliner. I'll distract him."
Sam silently nodded, backing away slowly. Dean sighed dramatically and pinched
the bridge of his nose.
"We done? I'm really trying to get the hell outta here before the cop's show.
Baby," Dean said to Sam. "Get a bag and some clothes. You'll need em. Maybe a
toothbrush."
"This all could have been avoided, you know." Rick mumbled at Dean.
"Oh yeah? How so?"
Sam slowly inched down without Dean noticing. He spotted a huge shard of glass
and quietly hid it.
"By watching Adam that morning. You could've prevented him from leaving. He
would probably still be alive."
"You don't wanna go there with me. You don't know shit about me!"
"I know that it's all over. Now, Sam!"
Sam lunged at Dean and struck him in his ribcage with the glass shard three
times. The psycho howled in pain as he flung the boy off of him. He collapsed
on the floor, hugging his wound.
"Goddammit!" Dean cursed. He looked up when he heard the sound of a gun
cocking. "Baby--"
"Don't. Just don't." Sam said. He seemed distant, nearly broken. "You don't
deserve to fucking live, you know that right?"
"I know you're mad but we can fix this. Can't you see that everything I've
done, I've done for you? All those people I killed? For you. I love you. You
won't pull that trigger."
Sam hesitated. And then,
Bang!
Dean cursed again as a bullet lodged itself into his shoulder.
"Son of cop, remember?" Sam said as he pistol whipped Dean across the head,
knocking him unconscious immediately.
"Sam!" Rick called. "Handcuffs. In the front pocket of my coat."
Sam dug around for the cuffs and handcuffed Dean with his hands behind his
back. He rushed over to untie his father and they embraced briefly.
"I'm sorry, Kiddo. Please forgive me! What I did was unforgiving and shameful."
"I forgive you, Dad. I love you. It's okay. It's over."
"As long as he lives, it's never over." Rick informed grimly.
Both of the Wesson men were startled when they heard a small groan in the main
hall of the house. Sam went to check on it and discovered that Gabriel was
still alive! 
"Fuck..." Gabriel grumbled. "That really hurt."
"Gabe!" Sam chuckled. "Thank God you're okay!"
"Sam! Come here a second." Rick called.
The boy helped his best friend sit upright against the wall before going to
check in to see what his dad wanted. He saw that Dean was struggling in his
bonds, growling like an animal.
"Let me go, you bastard! I gotta get Sammy. My baby needs me! Sammy! Get me our
of here! SAMMY!"
Sam stared blankly into Dean's eyes as he pulled on his sweatpants and zipped
up his hoodie. Rick pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police.
===============================================================================
 
The next hour was a rushed one. Police and paramedics were all over the house,
checking on the injured and taking away Ruby's body. Sam had chose to ride in
the ambulance with Gabriel while Rick stayed behind to deal with the cop's and
wandering reporters.
As the ambulance started to pull off, Sam locked eyes with Dean once again who
sat in the back of a squad car shouting his name.
***** My Wayward Son (Epilogue) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam leaves for college with Gabriel.
     Dean thinks.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
August, One Year Later
"You sure you wanna drive up there? I can do it. I don't have any problems with
that." Rick said as he helped Sam pack with Gabriel.
Sam graduated high school finally and was accepted into Stanford University
along with Gabriel who sported a bitchin new scar in the middle of his back. He
planned to show it off to many of the girls and guys of the college. Their
emotional scars, however, we're only just then healing. Both boys had recently
found peace in Ruby's death.
"I'm positive." Sam assured his father. "Gabe will be with me the whole time.
He's my trusty guardian."
"I shall protect ye with my life, sir!" Gabriel joked. Sam tossed a pair of
socks in his face causing Rick to chuckle.
"You sure I can't just drop you two off at a train station or something?" Rick
persisted.
Sam threw underwear on top of his dad's head in mild frustration. "I said I'll
be okay. He's away, Dad. He's not getting out. My testimony made sure of that.
Besides, I always wanted to travel with my friends. Ruby would want me to."
The detective nodded and swept both boys in a tight hug. "Fine. You guys
together would make anyone scared anyway. I'll help you finish packing then."
About ten minutes later, Sam was outside with Gabriel walking to Sam's car. His
black 1967 Chevy Impala. They deposited their luggage in the trunk of the car
and waved at Rick.
"Sam," Rick called out. "Send me pictures of all your professors."
Sam laughed. "Okay, Dad. Call you when I stop."
He and Gabriel drove on the highway sometime later in relative silence until
Gabe started flapping his gums.
"Put on some music or something. I absolutely love the sound of your breathing
but actual music would be great."
Sam rolled his eyes as he huffed a laugh. "Get that box in the backseat."
Gabriel reached behind him and found a cardboard box full of old cassette taps.
"Damn. There's a lot of classics in here. I'll just pick this one."
He pushed the tape all the way in and the car was filled with music from
another generation.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black. I see my red door and must have
it painted black. Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts.
It's not easy facin up when your whole world is black...
"Hmm," Sam smiles as he stares at the road ahead. "Catchy."
===============================================================================
 
Dean sat in his cell on the bottom bunk. He was never appointed a roommate for
more than two days and he was certain that the new guy taking a piss in the
corner wasn't going to last one.
"So, what're you in for?" The guy blurts out. "You look like you've been
through shit."
"I loved--love someone too much. But it's fine. I made a vow."
"What's that?"
Dean smirked and slashed the guys throat with a make shift shank. Blood began
to spurt from the man's neck and onto Dean's prison attire.
"Not even prison can hold me...I'm coming, Sammy."
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all for reading! It was such a pleasure making this fanfic
     for you all and I really hope you enjoyed it. In case you weren't
     certain, this is DEFINITELY becoming a small series! Stay tuned! <3
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!