Weapons of Fate (Part One)
His life was a fucking joke.
“Shouldn’t you be on the phone, Winchester?” his supervisor’s voice bellowed from across the way. Jason Beverly was a waste of air, a man who defined his own superiority by how filthy he could make everyone around him feel. Sam couldn’t help but cringe. He was just a bully and Sam knew how to take care of bullies, but the economy was down and it had taken Sam six months to find this job after the doctor’s had given him the go ahead. He needed the job, needed the money, and he needed to prove to himself he could do it.
Fucking law school.
He’d had a good life once. Even if he was a foster kid - too stubborn to hold his tongue and get himself adopted - he’d managed to get good grades and keep most of his trouble off his official records. He was smart and getting a scholarship to college hadn’t been much of a stretch, but he’d worked hard to be better than that until his grades and personal recommendations were good enough to get him a full ride to Stanford University.
He met Jessica right away and he’d never thought he could be happier. By his sophomore year they’d found an apartment together just off campus. By the time Jess was finishing up her psych degree, he was ready to pop the question. Law school was in the bag, his LSAT scores were off the charts and the interview had gone well enough that he walked out knowing he would probably get a full scholarship there too.
Fucking finals.
There was no reason to think it would happen to him, but there he was, trying to prepare for his finals when the panic attacks began. It only took three months for his anxiety to become second nature. Just the thought of returning to school to finish his last semester of classes sent his heart racing and he’d tried four times to take forms down to campus to re-enroll before he’d given up actually making it there. He’d made it as far as the car, hands shaking and knees weak, before he’d had to grab the plastic bottle from his jacket pocket and swallow his pills dry just to be able to make it back into the apartment.
Almost a year later and his life was a complete farce. It was a never ending cycle of pain and humiliation, a girlfriend who didn’t respect him anymore, a frat buddy who was -if every indication was true - banging said girlfriend, and a brainless job that left him edgy and defensive as panic attacks loomed around every corner. Especially with his supervisor taking every chance he could to publicly humiliate him.
Sam picked up the phone and ducked his head, finding the next number on his directory to call. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before someone answered on the other line. The voice sounded sweet and bright, and part of Sam cringed as his sales speech turned her voice into - like everything else in his life - a cold dull gray.
**
“It’s not like I can do this on my own, Sam. I know you’ve been trying baby, but I think if you just talked to Matt he could really help you out.”
She kept going and all Sam heard was blah blah blah, Matt, blah blah blah, banging him whenever he says he has a lunch meeting, blah blah blah, better than you, blah blah blah, should have dumped your ass and shacked up with him, blah blah blah.
It was all true and Sam just closed his eyes and let it all fall away. He had one happy thing, one happy memory that helped him get away from it all. He tried not to use it often, mostly because it was really pathetic. He was a foster kid, with no idea of who he was or how he’d ended up where he did. The name, Sam Winchester probably wasn’t even real since the only Sam Winchester born in the state at the right time was dead in a house fire when he was 6 months old. Still, if he closed his eyes he could feel someone strong holding onto him, someone leaning over him to press a sloppy kiss to his forehead, and eyes the color of spring grass looking down at him. In that moment, in that one imaginary moment in his head, he was safe and loved.
Blah blah blah, better job than you, blah blah blah, should have known you wouldn’t make it after you left school, blah blah blah, mom was right, blah blah blah.
He let out a deep sigh and smiled, green eyes still smiling above him.
**
Matt nudged Sam’s shoulder as they sat at the bar, Jess and the rest of their friends at the table. “Man, Jess looks hot tonight. Don’t know how you let her out of the house like that. If I had a girl like that I’d never leave the bedroom.”
Sam sipped his beer as he waited for the bartender to come back with Jess’s martini, sour apple of course because she’d read about it in some magazine somewhere. He tried not to think about the fact that he’d stayed late at work and barely got home in time to pick Jess up before they were late at the bar. He tried not to think about the fact that the apartment smelled like sex and Jess was opening the windows to air it out before he got there. He tried not to think about the fact that Matt kept a secret stash of Jess’s underwear in the bottom right hand drawer of his desk, stolen from her every time they had a ‘lunch meeting’.
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well my girl wants to party all the time.”
Great. Now his life sucked and that song was stuck in his head.
Matt took his drink and headed over to Jess and the others, Jess wrapping her fingers around his arm to pull him in close enough to whisper in his ear. Jesus, they weren’t even subtle about it. He started to turn away but found himself looking at a man across the room who was staring right back. He was older than Sam by a good twenty years, but he was fit and trim, dark hair and salt and pepper beard making him look a bit roguish. His eyes were hard though, his lips pulled into a thin, tight line, and his focus was so intently on Sam that he felt his heart racing again.
“I would love to tell you a bedtime story.”
Sam turned quickly as he felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself looking up at the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Jade eyes smiled down at him and full, lush lips were pulled up at the corners in a sexy smile. Sam had never kidded himself about his preferences, and while he might have been keeping his bisexuality in hiding because of his future career as a lawyer, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to pass this guy up even when that was still his promising future. This guy was like an angel of fate, so beautiful it hurt to look at him.
“Excuse me?” Sam said, because he really must have misheard him.
“Sam, who’s your friend?” Jess asked as she walked up. She pressing her arm in close to Sam but even as she did he watched the way her breasts pressed against the back of the guys arm and he wanted to jerk away from all the points where Jessica’s body touched his. The green eyes man simple glanced at her for a second before looking back at Sam.
“I said, I’d love to tell you a bedtime story, only there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked as Jessica gaped. The guy was completely ignoring her and Sam smiled lightly at that. She was the hottest girl in the bar without a doubt, and she knew it, but she paled in comparison to the man talking to Sam.
“We aren’t in bed yet. I’m close by. What do you say we remedy that?”
“What the hell? This is my boyfriend-”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Sam found himself saying. He didn’t know what was compelling him but he couldn’t take it anymore. Jess was standing there a minute away from throwing herself at the guy, moments after she’d been whispering in Matt’s ear, and the guy couldn’t care less about her.
The guy stood up from his bar stool and offered Sam his hand. Sam looked at it for a minute and realized that yes he wanted to do this. Fuck, yes he was doing this. He took the guy’s hand and smiled over his shoulder at his girlfriend. “Don’t wait up,” he said, and then headed out with the other guy’s hand placed over his lower back.
Outside, Sam realized a few things. The first was that the guy was a few inches shorter than he was. The second was that he didn’t have a fucking clue what to do now. The third was that he didn’t even know the guy’s name.
“Um, so, I’m Sam,” he said softly as the guy brought him over to a classic red convertible mustang. “Nice car,” he added as the guy opened the door for him.
“It’s not my baby, but it’ll do.” The guy turned his smile on Sam then and he felt his breath catch. “Nice to meet you Sam. I’m Dean.”
Dean closed the door between them, cutting off the conversation and Sam was alright with that. His heart was racing but in a good way this time and it’d been a long while since he’d felt like that. He knew it was probably the most stupid thing he’d ever done, getting into the car with this stranger, but he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt free.
The guy got in beside him and they pulled out just as Sam looked back and caught sight of the guy from earlier, his face a mask of anger. Sam gulped against the tremor he felt at the man’s eyes and let out a deep breath.
“You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked, his hand reaching out lightly to pat at Sam’s knee.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam answered softly. He didn’t say anything else though and after a few minutes Dean turned on the radio to a classic rock station, singing lightly under his breath as he drove.
They ended up at a warehouse a couple miles away, one of the newly refurbished - looks so modern and sleek and so damn expensive that you couldn’t afford it unless you were a movie star - places. They got out of the car in silence and stayed that way as they rode the elevator up to the top floor.
Dean opened the door and walked in, dropping his black leather jacket onto the large white couch that sat on the edge of the living room. Glass windows surrounded the place, but there was a dark film that Sam thought might keep people from seeing inside. It gave the outside world a darker look, but it didn’t detract from the beauty of the view.
“Come on, Sammy, think you’re a little overdue on that bedtime story.”
Sam looked away from the window to see Dean across the large, open apartment. There were no doors except on the back wall, the living room, kitchen, dining room, and bedroom all open to another. The front door opening into the living room which merged into the dining area. To the left of that was a long kitchen island counter that separated the dining area from the kitchen. And in the back corner, past the rest were four columns that led up to a large platform. A massive bed was centered on the platform. The only closed off spaces in the room were the bathroom and closet doors just off either side of the platform. Dark curtains hung from the columns and he could tell it would give a little privacy in the bedroom area if Dean wanted it, but they were pulled back and Sam couldn’t do anything but watch as Dean pulled his shirt up over his head, dropping it irreverently on the ground at his feet.
When Dean held his hand out, Sam found himself moving forward.
“I don’t do this,” he admitted as Dean took his hand and pulled him up the three steps to the top of the platform.
“You don’t get undressed?” Dean asked as he began to unbutton Sam’s shirt.
“I don’t cheat. I … I don’t go home with strange men.”
Dean smirked at him as he pushed his shirt off his shoulders. “I’m not strange, though I do wonder about you. At the bar with that bitch? Watching her hang off that guy?” Dean leaned in, letting his lips trace the skin just below Sam’s ear and Sam couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips. “You might be the strange one, but I’m willing to take my chances. I could barely keep my hands to myself back there,” he said, pulling the button of Sam’s jeans open and sliding the zipper down, the gentle pressure on his cock was a slow tease that made Sam sweat.
“Dean,” he gasped.
He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes but then Dean’s lips were on his and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever felt. He didn’t think about what he was doing, but pulled Dean in, hands gripping at the back of his jeans to keep him close as he licked at the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean moaned into it and Sam could feel Dean’s fingers sliding under his waistband, pushing the fabric of his boxers and jeans down off his waist.
Dean pulled back just enough to drag his lips down Sam’s neck. He trailed over his collarbone and down his chest as his hands worked Sam’s pants to the floor.
“Fuck,” Sam whispered lightly because there was no way to keep in what the sight of Dean on his knees in front of him was doing to his libido.
“Damn, Sammy, look at you,” Dean murmured against the skin of Sam’s hip. Teeth nipped and bit, but then Dean’s tongue lapped softly across it before his lips soothed the spot with kisses. He looked up at Sam, smirking just as he pushed Sam down onto the bed behind him.
He’d forgotten how close he was to the bed so he went down hard. Dean laughed as he stood up, quickly discarding the rest of his own clothes. When he crawled up the bed he straddled Sam’s thighs as he leaned closer. “What type of bedtime stories do you like?”
“The sexy kind,” Sam said with a startled laugh. How the hell could Dean possibly think his brain was going to work at a time like this?
Dean just smiled. “Oh, I think I have a good one for you.” Sam didn’t care what he said as he watched Dean reach into a small cubby on the headboard of the bed and pull out lube and a condom. Dean slicked his fingers up and shifted until he was sitting between Sam’s legs. Wet fingers circled Sam’s hole and he closed his eyes, trying to bite back all the noises that wanted to escape.
“Once upon a time, there were two little boys,” Dean said as he pressed the first finger in. His lips pressed to Sam’s chest before he moved lower, kissing and licked at Sam’s abdomen. “And they loved each other very much.” He bit and licked at the spot just above Sam’s hipbone until Sam could see the flesh bruising beneath his lips. “Brothers, and there wasn’t anything the oldest wouldn’t do for his baby brother.”
Dean smirked as he looked up at Sam, mischief in his eyes. “Nothing he wouldn’t do for his baby brother,” he reiterated just as he wrapped his lips around Sam’s cock.
Sam nearly bucked into the wet heat but managed to claw at the blankets instead, Dean’s tongue working his shaft as a second finger began opening him up. “Dean, come on,” Sam begged, his whole body starting to feel on edge. Dean hummed around his cock and a third finger was pressed into him. Sam gasped as Dean’s fingers slipped over his prostate, sending bursts of pleasure coursing through his body.
“Now, Dean, come on.” He wasn’t sure if he was ready or not. It’d been years since he’d been fucked by a guy but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel Dean inside him. Something about the other man made him long to feel his body pressed over him, weighing Sam down, holding him there.
Sam’s cock spilled from Dean’s mouth and he smiled as he pulled his fingers from his body, grabbing the condom. “These brothers, they were very special, but no one ever told them that. No, they had a long, hard road to travel, each alone and uncared for. One day though, the older brother found out a horrible truth,” Dean said as he leaned over Sam, one hand holding his weight as the other guided him to Sam’s entrance.
“Fuck, yes, tell me,” Sam said as he realized Dean was waiting for Sam’s interest. He didn’t care what Dean had to say just so long as he filled Sam up.
“Oh God, Sammy,” Dean moaned as he pushed into Sam’s willing body. The burn was intense and fuck, Sam loved every second of it. “Come on, take it, baby,” Dean whispered as his free hand pulled Sam’s thighs further apart, slowing pushing in.
“The uh … the older brother …” Dean said between pants, “found out that his little brother had been stolen from him, hidden by his evil father.”
Dean moaned again as he was finally pressed all the way in, his hand gripped Sam’s hip hard enough to bruise.
“Move Dean, come on,” Sam begged. “Take me, damn it, do it.”
Dean pulled out and thrust back in hard, but he didn’t pause after that. His cock plunged deep inside Sam, shifting his body up the bed so that Sam had to grab hold of Dean’s back to keep his counter rhythm. His nails dug deep into Dean’s back and Dean’s hips snapped forward even harder.
“Yeah, Sammy, mark me up baby. Show them who I belong to.”
Sam shuddered at his words, leaning up to bite at Dean’s bottom lip. “Brothers…” he gasped, trying to find something else to think about because he was about to lose his mind with the way Dean pushed into him and his fucking sinful words. “Tell me.”
“Yeah, Sammy, big brother found out and went looking for his little brother. No one understood his little brother, no one loved him the way his big brother would and as soon as he saw him, he knew he had to take care of him, had to take him home and mark him and make sure no one ever forgot that this was his little brother.”
“Dean?” There was something in Dean’s eyes, something a little wild and a lot possessive, but instead of answering, Dean’s lips crushed into Sam’s and his free hand reached between them, stroking Sam’s cock until there was nothing but white noise in his ears and his heart racing.
Sam’s body began to shake apart under him and Dean’s thrusts were harsh and wild. Sam could feel their orgasms coming together and when Dean spoke he couldn’t help but look up.
“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean whispered and Sam watched the way Dean’s eyes grew feverish and heavy as he fucked up into Sam. “Come for me, baby brother.”
Sam gasped at the words even as he felt come spilling over his stomach and chest, Dean’s name ripped from his throat just as Dean let out a heavy moan that sounded suspiciously more like Sam than anything else before he collapsed onto Sam’s chest.
Sam’s heart was racing again and his throat was suddenly dry. He tried to push Dean off him but the fucker wasn’t moving and Sam was having a panic attack because the guy he’d just gone home with had fucked him and called him little brother as they got off.
He tried to get up, but Dean wasn’t going anywhere and when Sam tried to push away again, Dean just laughed, dropping a sloppy kiss to Sam’s forehead and he looked down at him. “Fuck, stress in the morning, Sammy.” He said as he pulled out of Sam’s body, throwing off the used condom before he lay back in bed, curling up against Sam’s side. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and drop you off at home if you want. Or work. Wherever you want to go.”
“You … what you …” he wasn’t sure what to say. Somehow Dean had just managed to quell his panic attack with a simple touch and Sam’s body was so damn lethargic. He couldn’t remember getting off that hard before, couldn’t remember being that worked up over anyone else before. “Don’t call me baby brother,” He finally managed to say, “s’not true.”
He knew it was fucked up, but he felt safe in Dean’s arms and there had been a time in his life when he’d wished more than anything that someone would come claim him. He knew, without even thinking, that he’d let Dean claim him in just about any way he wanted, but not that, not family. He was just a foster kid, someone no one wanted. He couldn’t go back to school and could barely hold down his current job. Whoever Dean was, if he had a little brother, he was someone a lot better than Sam.
Dean kissed the back of his neck and threw an arm over Sam’s hip, pulling him closer. “Talk in the morning, Sammy.”
“You didn’t finish my bedtime story,” Sam whispered.
Dean’s lips moved against the back of his neck and Sam relaxed into it, letting Dean’s words sooth him. “So he took his little brother and protected him, because their father was an evil man. He had lived all his life as a part of something big, something beyond morals and men’s thoughts of power and law. He was a part of the Fraternity, a group of men and women who righted the world’s wrongs, who changed destiny like the fates of Greek mythology, cutting single threads in the tapestry of life. He turned against that family though and went out on his own, killing mercilessly. When the others became aware of his betrayal, the oldest brother knew it was only a matter of time before his father went looking for his youngest son, so he found him and protected him.”
“What happened after he found him?” Sam asked softly.
Dean kissed the back of his ear as he spoke. “He killed his father to make his baby brother was safe. He died to protect him.”
“No,” Sam shook his head as he turned over, burying his head in Dean’s neck. “No, he didn’t. A big brother like that deserves a strong little brother, and he was willing to fight too. And together they both survived and they found their own way to live where they could be happy together without fear.”
Dean sighed as his one hand trailed up and downs Sam’s arm and back. “I like your ending, Sammy. I don’t know if it works in the real world, but I like the idea of it.”
Sam smiled against Dean’s skin. “Best fantasies come from a little truth. If I ever had a big brother, I’d fight for him too.”
“I know you would,” Dean whispered, his voice deeper than it had been but his fingers were stroking Sam’s hair then and he was past tired. “Go to sleep, Sammy.”
Safe in Dean’s arms, he did.
**
Sam woke in bed alone. He stretched, trying to work out the sore muscles before he bothered to open his eyes.
“Finally awake, Sammy?” Dean asked from the kitchen.
Sam sat up in bed and looked across the open space to see Dean leaning against the kitchen island in a pair of loose sweatpants. His chest was bare and so were his feet. He poured a mug full of coffee and smiled at Sam. “How do you take it?”
“Um … black is fine.” Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Cream and sugar. Lots of cream.”
When Dean moved to the counter Sam got out of bed and found another pair of sweatpants sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at them for a second then decided not to worry about it. He pulled them on and stepped down the stairs away from the bed. The morning light came through the windows but the dark film protected them from harsh glares against the polished wood floors. Sam moved over to the island and took a seat on a bar stool as Dean handed over the sugar and creamer. Dean didn’t say anything as Sam fixed his coffee, taking a long sip of it before sighing.
“I figured you for a coffee addict,” Dean said with a smirk as he took a drink from his own mug.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Sam asked.
Dean set his mug down and shrugged as he stepped in between Sam’s legs. He leaned in, brushing his nose against the soft skin under Sam’s jaw. Sam turned his head slightly to give him better access and Dean grabbed his hips, pulling him closer as he kissed the spot right beneath his ear. “Figured there had to be some of me in you.”
“Dean?” Sam pulled back, confused by the words. “What?”
Dean pressed in quickly, kissing Sam lightly before he stepped away, moving to the other side of the island. “You want some breakfast, Sammy? I think I’ve got some pancake mix if you want that, but I make a mean French toast.”
“Dean, what the hell is going on?” Sam watched the tension building in Dean’s shoulders. He swallowed against the lump in his throat because Jesus, what the hell was he doing? He … he had a girlfriend he’d just fucking cheated on, with some guy who … hot as hell … but had strange fantasies in bed and he really needed to get the hell out and get to work before he did something to screw that up too.
“I should just call a cab,” Sam said softly, setting his coffee mug down.
“No, damn it!” Dean yelled as he turned back to look at Sam. His eyes held the same wild passion as they had the night before. “I’ve been waiting for this most of my damn life and you aren’t allowed to just walk away.”
Sam stood up but Dean was already moving to intercept him, keeping himself between Sam and the door. “Dean-”
“Just hear me out, Sammy. I know a lot of what I’m gonna say will be hard to hear but it’s all true and I can prove it. Sam Winchester. He died in a fire when he was six months old. They said it was an electrical malfunction, but his mother, Mary, she was murdered. They said … the papers said her infant son died of smoke inhalation, never even made it to the hospital. She was survived by her husband, John.” Dean reached onto the counter and pulled open his wallet, throwing an ID Sam’s way. “And a son.”
Sam looked at the identification and dropped it immediately. “Dean?”
He nodded. “Dean Winchester.”
“You know he died. Why are you looking at me? I didn’t steal his name, Dean. It’s the only one I ever had.”
“Shhh…” Dean said as Sam got worked up. He had a damn right to it, with Dean blocking the way and accusing Sam of stealing his dead brother’s identity.
“I know you didn’t, Sammy.” Dean stepped closer. “John lied. I don’t know how he managed it, but he faked your death and sent you away. I thought,” Dean’s eyes filled with tears and he took a deep breath. “I thought I’d killed you. Dad gave you to me, told me to run and get you out, but I thought I did something wrong, Sammy. I thought I didn’t get you out fast enough or maybe I held you wrong and the smoke got to you.”
“Dean, no, I’m not that kid.”
“You are. John went missing two weeks ago. When he did I went to check out his apartment. He’s been watching you Sam, ever since you were a kid. Last night I followed him and he led me straight to you.”
Sam stared at him, trying to understand what Dean was saying. “No, that doesn’t make any sense.” He took a step back but jerked to a stop, knowing it was a step closer to the bed. A step closer to where they’d had sex the night before. “No, that would mean, Jesus, what you did, what you, what did you do?”
“I didn’t plan it, Sam, I was just there and she was such a bitch and I could see that she wasn’t taking care of you. You’re mine though. You always were.”
“You said… you said John, my, the man you’re saying is my father. He was there last night?”
Dean nodded. “He came after us when we left, remember? I thought he’d scared you or something when we were driving away.”
He couldn’t catch his breath, his heart started racing faster, and his chest heaved. He couldn’t stop it, needed to find his jacket with his pills but he looked up and he couldn’t see his clothes. The room was pulsing with the beat of his heart.
“Calm down, Sammy,” the words were distorted, but he could make them out over the rushing in his ears. He started to fall backward, but Dean’s hands were on him. It just made his heart beat faster though, until suddenly everything stopped.
He felt the soft press of lips against his forehead and looked up as his heart skipped a beat, calming almost immediately at the intimate moment. He jerked his head back, looking up at Dean who was somehow now straddling his legs as they sat on the floor. He couldn’t think though because all he could see were green eyes staring down at him, eyes like spring grass and the feel of those lips against Sam’s forehead were burned into his memory, as it always had been.
“No,” he whispered, looking up at the only thing he’d ever held sacred. “It wasn’t real.”
“Calm down, Sam,” Dean repeated. “You’re working yourself up and you really aren’t ready for that yet. You gotta let me train you before you let it all loose.”
“I need to leave. I, Dean, I need to go home.”
“To her?” Dean sneered.
“I have to work,” Sam said, grasping at straws. “I need to be there.”
“Sam, listen to me. You gotta be careful. You don’t know anything about John. Hell you barely know me, but you’ve got to trust me, alright?”
Dean was obviously waiting for some kind of sign but Sam didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Trust Dean? The man who was possibly-probably his big brother? The man who knowingly fucked him, believing Sam was his little brother?
“John can’t be trusted, Sam. Look, you and me? We’re special. We’ve got an ability that few people have. It’s something we call bending the bullet. I know it won’t make any sense right now, but in time I’ll show you. John knew that and he tried to keep you from me, he tried to keep you from becoming the person you could be. I’ve been through his notes and journals. He was convinced you were gonna be even stronger than he was, and that in the end, you’d be strong enough to kill him. I don’t know why he’s doing it now, but he’s coming after you Sam. I won’t leave you to face that alone.”
“Dean, I” he swallowed because none of it made sense. “What do you mean?”
“He’s an assassin Sam. It’s … it’s why we’re special. It’s something in our blood. I’ll train you up and keep you safe. John, he’s just, I don’t know. He was always a little on the outside of things. Now though he’s gone completely off the reservation, killing without reason or cause.”
Sam was afraid to move, afraid to make a sound as Dean seemed to get lost in his thoughts, but then Dean turned his green eyes back to Sam and kissed his forehead softly. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ll make us some breakfast and take you back home, alright? I don’t want to keep you from work or anything, but I’ll be around, okay? I’m gonna take care of you.”
Dean got up then, quickly grabbing Sam by the hand and pulling him to his feet. He pushed him into the bathroom and handed Sam towels. “Get a shower, baby, and I’ll get breakfast going.”
Dean didn’t wait for an answer before he closed the door behind him. Sam just stared at it for a few minutes, trying to understand what the hell was happening in his life. His knees gave out and he sat heavily on the lid of the toilet.
This wasn’t happening. It, this, Dean couldn’t be his long lost brother. His father wasn’t alive and looking for him. Sam was just some orphan no one wanted.
Except, now, Dean apparently did.
A shiver went down his spine as the memories of the night before came back, the feel of Dean’s strong sure hands on his body, his lips pressed to Sam’s, the way he filled Sam up and took care of him. The way his arms felt as he held him and the possessive look in his eyes when he’d called Sam little brother and told him to come.
Sam dropped his head to his hands and tried to forget how it had all felt, how safe he’d been with Dean over him, around him, how he’d been willing to let Dean ask anything of him, so long as he didn’t try to make them something they weren’t. Only now Dean was trying to say they were family, and he apparently had no qualms about wanting to be lovers as well.
What was he thinking? Dean had just confessed to being an assassin, right? Why the hell would incest faze him? And Sam was sitting in Dean’s bathroom, wondering what Dean was cooking for breakfast.
What the fuck?
He just, he had to play along. That was all there was to it. He needed to play along and get in the shower and have breakfast and go to work. Dean would get bored of whatever game this was and he’d leave Sam alone. It was his only chance.
Sam stood up, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the shower. It was huge, with multiple jets and Sam tested the settings because in the least Dean owed him a long hot shower. He stayed under the jets for a long time, letting the water sooth his sore muscles and relax him a bit. It wouldn’t last long, not with Dean outside the bathroom door, but it was the best he could do.
When he was done he stepped out and dried off quickly. On the edge of the sink was a new toothbrush still in the wrapping and Sam used it -trying not to think about how often Dean hooked up that he kept them around - before pulling the sweatpants on and heading back out to look for his clothes.
They were waiting on the bed, pants folded precisely and this shirt laid out nice and flat. He dressed quickly and ignored the sounds of Dean in the kitchen area. When he was finished, he walked down to join the man that claimed to be his brother. The man Sam was almost positive was his brother.
He didn’t know why he was so sure of it. Having the same colored eyes as his own imaginary caregiver didn’t make him related. He was connected to Dean though in some way he couldn’t fully understand. And no matter how much he wanted to run, he also knew there was a part of him that was jumping at the chance to belong to someone, to have someone that truly wanted him. It was like there was an echo in his heart and Dean somehow filled that hole, no matter that Sam was sure Dean hadn’t been the one to carve it out in the first place.
“Hungry?” Dean asked as he set a plate of French toast onto the dining table. Sometime while Sam was in the bathroom Dean had gotten dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a dark green shirt. Some cut fruit was already out, along with a plate of bacon and a bottle of syrup. A coffee mug slid up beside him as Dean settled in with his own plate next to Sam. It was quiet while they ate and Sam tried to watch Dean without being noticed.
“I don’t mind, you know?” Dean said softly.
“What?”
“You. Looking at me,” Dean answered as he bit a piece of bacon off. “John raised me on the outskirts of the Fraternity so it was always me and these assassins when I was growing up. I used to imagine you were still there sometimes just so I’d have someone else to play with. I know you didn’t know about me, but I was thinking about you all the time. It’s nice, now. Seeing you for real.”
His voice was soft and sad and it pulled at Sam in ways he didn’t understand. He swallowed his sip of coffee and looked down at his plate. He pushed the food around for a minute before opening his mouth. “When things get really bad, when I just need to get away from my life, I have this place I go, in my head.”
Dean didn’t interrupt, but he stopped eating, giving Sam his whole focus. Sam couldn’t remember the last time someone else had given him that. If Jess had ever been that focused on him, even in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it.
“It isn’t a place really, just, it makes me feel safe. I close my eyes, and I can feel someone holding onto me, arms wrapped tight on my sides, but they’re on top of me, watching out for me. I can feel lips press to my forehead and there are green eyes looking down at me.”
His heart was in his throat as he said it and the look in Dean’s eyes, the raw need made Sam’s eyes dart away. He couldn’t sit there anymore, not with Dean staring at him like he’d just announced a revelation, so he got up and went to wait by the door. Dean was there a second later. They walked down to the car in silence and Sam found himself wondering what it would have been like, to be Dean’s brother. To have this real and true and not just some emotional connection that he kept trying to force. That Dean seemed to be unstable didn’t seem to be factoring into Sam’s thoughts even though he kept trying to remind himself. Dean just seemed far too warm and together to be insane. He didn’t know what to do with any of it. Instead, he just let the silence fill the space between them.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t need to tell Dean the way to his apartment. He just accepted it and got out when Dean stopped the car in front of his place. He was moving towards the door when he heard Dean’s voice.
“Take care, Sammy. I’ll be around.”
Sam looked back at him, heart leaping in his chest at the thought even as he swallowed against the fear of that statement.
Dean just smiled at him. “When you need me, I’ll be here.”
Chapter Two
“Shouldn’t you be on the phone, Winchester?” his supervisor’s voice bellowed from across the way. Jason Beverly was a waste of air, a man who defined his own superiority by how filthy he could make everyone around him feel. Sam couldn’t help but cringe. He was just a bully and Sam knew how to take care of bullies, but the economy was down and it had taken Sam six months to find this job after the doctor’s had given him the go ahead. He needed the job, needed the money, and he needed to prove to himself he could do it.
Fucking law school.
He’d had a good life once. Even if he was a foster kid - too stubborn to hold his tongue and get himself adopted - he’d managed to get good grades and keep most of his trouble off his official records. He was smart and getting a scholarship to college hadn’t been much of a stretch, but he’d worked hard to be better than that until his grades and personal recommendations were good enough to get him a full ride to Stanford University.
He met Jessica right away and he’d never thought he could be happier. By his sophomore year they’d found an apartment together just off campus. By the time Jess was finishing up her psych degree, he was ready to pop the question. Law school was in the bag, his LSAT scores were off the charts and the interview had gone well enough that he walked out knowing he would probably get a full scholarship there too.
Fucking finals.
There was no reason to think it would happen to him, but there he was, trying to prepare for his finals when the panic attacks began. It only took three months for his anxiety to become second nature. Just the thought of returning to school to finish his last semester of classes sent his heart racing and he’d tried four times to take forms down to campus to re-enroll before he’d given up actually making it there. He’d made it as far as the car, hands shaking and knees weak, before he’d had to grab the plastic bottle from his jacket pocket and swallow his pills dry just to be able to make it back into the apartment.
Almost a year later and his life was a complete farce. It was a never ending cycle of pain and humiliation, a girlfriend who didn’t respect him anymore, a frat buddy who was -if every indication was true - banging said girlfriend, and a brainless job that left him edgy and defensive as panic attacks loomed around every corner. Especially with his supervisor taking every chance he could to publicly humiliate him.
Sam picked up the phone and ducked his head, finding the next number on his directory to call. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before someone answered on the other line. The voice sounded sweet and bright, and part of Sam cringed as his sales speech turned her voice into - like everything else in his life - a cold dull gray.
**
“It’s not like I can do this on my own, Sam. I know you’ve been trying baby, but I think if you just talked to Matt he could really help you out.”
She kept going and all Sam heard was blah blah blah, Matt, blah blah blah, banging him whenever he says he has a lunch meeting, blah blah blah, better than you, blah blah blah, should have dumped your ass and shacked up with him, blah blah blah.
It was all true and Sam just closed his eyes and let it all fall away. He had one happy thing, one happy memory that helped him get away from it all. He tried not to use it often, mostly because it was really pathetic. He was a foster kid, with no idea of who he was or how he’d ended up where he did. The name, Sam Winchester probably wasn’t even real since the only Sam Winchester born in the state at the right time was dead in a house fire when he was 6 months old. Still, if he closed his eyes he could feel someone strong holding onto him, someone leaning over him to press a sloppy kiss to his forehead, and eyes the color of spring grass looking down at him. In that moment, in that one imaginary moment in his head, he was safe and loved.
Blah blah blah, better job than you, blah blah blah, should have known you wouldn’t make it after you left school, blah blah blah, mom was right, blah blah blah.
He let out a deep sigh and smiled, green eyes still smiling above him.
**
Matt nudged Sam’s shoulder as they sat at the bar, Jess and the rest of their friends at the table. “Man, Jess looks hot tonight. Don’t know how you let her out of the house like that. If I had a girl like that I’d never leave the bedroom.”
Sam sipped his beer as he waited for the bartender to come back with Jess’s martini, sour apple of course because she’d read about it in some magazine somewhere. He tried not to think about the fact that he’d stayed late at work and barely got home in time to pick Jess up before they were late at the bar. He tried not to think about the fact that the apartment smelled like sex and Jess was opening the windows to air it out before he got there. He tried not to think about the fact that Matt kept a secret stash of Jess’s underwear in the bottom right hand drawer of his desk, stolen from her every time they had a ‘lunch meeting’.
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well my girl wants to party all the time.”
Great. Now his life sucked and that song was stuck in his head.
Matt took his drink and headed over to Jess and the others, Jess wrapping her fingers around his arm to pull him in close enough to whisper in his ear. Jesus, they weren’t even subtle about it. He started to turn away but found himself looking at a man across the room who was staring right back. He was older than Sam by a good twenty years, but he was fit and trim, dark hair and salt and pepper beard making him look a bit roguish. His eyes were hard though, his lips pulled into a thin, tight line, and his focus was so intently on Sam that he felt his heart racing again.
“I would love to tell you a bedtime story.”
Sam turned quickly as he felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself looking up at the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Jade eyes smiled down at him and full, lush lips were pulled up at the corners in a sexy smile. Sam had never kidded himself about his preferences, and while he might have been keeping his bisexuality in hiding because of his future career as a lawyer, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to pass this guy up even when that was still his promising future. This guy was like an angel of fate, so beautiful it hurt to look at him.
“Excuse me?” Sam said, because he really must have misheard him.
“Sam, who’s your friend?” Jess asked as she walked up. She pressing her arm in close to Sam but even as she did he watched the way her breasts pressed against the back of the guys arm and he wanted to jerk away from all the points where Jessica’s body touched his. The green eyes man simple glanced at her for a second before looking back at Sam.
“I said, I’d love to tell you a bedtime story, only there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked as Jessica gaped. The guy was completely ignoring her and Sam smiled lightly at that. She was the hottest girl in the bar without a doubt, and she knew it, but she paled in comparison to the man talking to Sam.
“We aren’t in bed yet. I’m close by. What do you say we remedy that?”
“What the hell? This is my boyfriend-”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Sam found himself saying. He didn’t know what was compelling him but he couldn’t take it anymore. Jess was standing there a minute away from throwing herself at the guy, moments after she’d been whispering in Matt’s ear, and the guy couldn’t care less about her.
The guy stood up from his bar stool and offered Sam his hand. Sam looked at it for a minute and realized that yes he wanted to do this. Fuck, yes he was doing this. He took the guy’s hand and smiled over his shoulder at his girlfriend. “Don’t wait up,” he said, and then headed out with the other guy’s hand placed over his lower back.
Outside, Sam realized a few things. The first was that the guy was a few inches shorter than he was. The second was that he didn’t have a fucking clue what to do now. The third was that he didn’t even know the guy’s name.
“Um, so, I’m Sam,” he said softly as the guy brought him over to a classic red convertible mustang. “Nice car,” he added as the guy opened the door for him.
“It’s not my baby, but it’ll do.” The guy turned his smile on Sam then and he felt his breath catch. “Nice to meet you Sam. I’m Dean.”
Dean closed the door between them, cutting off the conversation and Sam was alright with that. His heart was racing but in a good way this time and it’d been a long while since he’d felt like that. He knew it was probably the most stupid thing he’d ever done, getting into the car with this stranger, but he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt free.
The guy got in beside him and they pulled out just as Sam looked back and caught sight of the guy from earlier, his face a mask of anger. Sam gulped against the tremor he felt at the man’s eyes and let out a deep breath.
“You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked, his hand reaching out lightly to pat at Sam’s knee.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam answered softly. He didn’t say anything else though and after a few minutes Dean turned on the radio to a classic rock station, singing lightly under his breath as he drove.
They ended up at a warehouse a couple miles away, one of the newly refurbished - looks so modern and sleek and so damn expensive that you couldn’t afford it unless you were a movie star - places. They got out of the car in silence and stayed that way as they rode the elevator up to the top floor.
Dean opened the door and walked in, dropping his black leather jacket onto the large white couch that sat on the edge of the living room. Glass windows surrounded the place, but there was a dark film that Sam thought might keep people from seeing inside. It gave the outside world a darker look, but it didn’t detract from the beauty of the view.
“Come on, Sammy, think you’re a little overdue on that bedtime story.”
Sam looked away from the window to see Dean across the large, open apartment. There were no doors except on the back wall, the living room, kitchen, dining room, and bedroom all open to another. The front door opening into the living room which merged into the dining area. To the left of that was a long kitchen island counter that separated the dining area from the kitchen. And in the back corner, past the rest were four columns that led up to a large platform. A massive bed was centered on the platform. The only closed off spaces in the room were the bathroom and closet doors just off either side of the platform. Dark curtains hung from the columns and he could tell it would give a little privacy in the bedroom area if Dean wanted it, but they were pulled back and Sam couldn’t do anything but watch as Dean pulled his shirt up over his head, dropping it irreverently on the ground at his feet.
When Dean held his hand out, Sam found himself moving forward.
“I don’t do this,” he admitted as Dean took his hand and pulled him up the three steps to the top of the platform.
“You don’t get undressed?” Dean asked as he began to unbutton Sam’s shirt.
“I don’t cheat. I … I don’t go home with strange men.”
Dean smirked at him as he pushed his shirt off his shoulders. “I’m not strange, though I do wonder about you. At the bar with that bitch? Watching her hang off that guy?” Dean leaned in, letting his lips trace the skin just below Sam’s ear and Sam couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips. “You might be the strange one, but I’m willing to take my chances. I could barely keep my hands to myself back there,” he said, pulling the button of Sam’s jeans open and sliding the zipper down, the gentle pressure on his cock was a slow tease that made Sam sweat.
“Dean,” he gasped.
He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes but then Dean’s lips were on his and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever felt. He didn’t think about what he was doing, but pulled Dean in, hands gripping at the back of his jeans to keep him close as he licked at the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean moaned into it and Sam could feel Dean’s fingers sliding under his waistband, pushing the fabric of his boxers and jeans down off his waist.
Dean pulled back just enough to drag his lips down Sam’s neck. He trailed over his collarbone and down his chest as his hands worked Sam’s pants to the floor.
“Fuck,” Sam whispered lightly because there was no way to keep in what the sight of Dean on his knees in front of him was doing to his libido.
“Damn, Sammy, look at you,” Dean murmured against the skin of Sam’s hip. Teeth nipped and bit, but then Dean’s tongue lapped softly across it before his lips soothed the spot with kisses. He looked up at Sam, smirking just as he pushed Sam down onto the bed behind him.
He’d forgotten how close he was to the bed so he went down hard. Dean laughed as he stood up, quickly discarding the rest of his own clothes. When he crawled up the bed he straddled Sam’s thighs as he leaned closer. “What type of bedtime stories do you like?”
“The sexy kind,” Sam said with a startled laugh. How the hell could Dean possibly think his brain was going to work at a time like this?
Dean just smiled. “Oh, I think I have a good one for you.” Sam didn’t care what he said as he watched Dean reach into a small cubby on the headboard of the bed and pull out lube and a condom. Dean slicked his fingers up and shifted until he was sitting between Sam’s legs. Wet fingers circled Sam’s hole and he closed his eyes, trying to bite back all the noises that wanted to escape.
“Once upon a time, there were two little boys,” Dean said as he pressed the first finger in. His lips pressed to Sam’s chest before he moved lower, kissing and licked at Sam’s abdomen. “And they loved each other very much.” He bit and licked at the spot just above Sam’s hipbone until Sam could see the flesh bruising beneath his lips. “Brothers, and there wasn’t anything the oldest wouldn’t do for his baby brother.”
Dean smirked as he looked up at Sam, mischief in his eyes. “Nothing he wouldn’t do for his baby brother,” he reiterated just as he wrapped his lips around Sam’s cock.
Sam nearly bucked into the wet heat but managed to claw at the blankets instead, Dean’s tongue working his shaft as a second finger began opening him up. “Dean, come on,” Sam begged, his whole body starting to feel on edge. Dean hummed around his cock and a third finger was pressed into him. Sam gasped as Dean’s fingers slipped over his prostate, sending bursts of pleasure coursing through his body.
“Now, Dean, come on.” He wasn’t sure if he was ready or not. It’d been years since he’d been fucked by a guy but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel Dean inside him. Something about the other man made him long to feel his body pressed over him, weighing Sam down, holding him there.
Sam’s cock spilled from Dean’s mouth and he smiled as he pulled his fingers from his body, grabbing the condom. “These brothers, they were very special, but no one ever told them that. No, they had a long, hard road to travel, each alone and uncared for. One day though, the older brother found out a horrible truth,” Dean said as he leaned over Sam, one hand holding his weight as the other guided him to Sam’s entrance.
“Fuck, yes, tell me,” Sam said as he realized Dean was waiting for Sam’s interest. He didn’t care what Dean had to say just so long as he filled Sam up.
“Oh God, Sammy,” Dean moaned as he pushed into Sam’s willing body. The burn was intense and fuck, Sam loved every second of it. “Come on, take it, baby,” Dean whispered as his free hand pulled Sam’s thighs further apart, slowing pushing in.
“The uh … the older brother …” Dean said between pants, “found out that his little brother had been stolen from him, hidden by his evil father.”
Dean moaned again as he was finally pressed all the way in, his hand gripped Sam’s hip hard enough to bruise.
“Move Dean, come on,” Sam begged. “Take me, damn it, do it.”
Dean pulled out and thrust back in hard, but he didn’t pause after that. His cock plunged deep inside Sam, shifting his body up the bed so that Sam had to grab hold of Dean’s back to keep his counter rhythm. His nails dug deep into Dean’s back and Dean’s hips snapped forward even harder.
“Yeah, Sammy, mark me up baby. Show them who I belong to.”
Sam shuddered at his words, leaning up to bite at Dean’s bottom lip. “Brothers…” he gasped, trying to find something else to think about because he was about to lose his mind with the way Dean pushed into him and his fucking sinful words. “Tell me.”
“Yeah, Sammy, big brother found out and went looking for his little brother. No one understood his little brother, no one loved him the way his big brother would and as soon as he saw him, he knew he had to take care of him, had to take him home and mark him and make sure no one ever forgot that this was his little brother.”
“Dean?” There was something in Dean’s eyes, something a little wild and a lot possessive, but instead of answering, Dean’s lips crushed into Sam’s and his free hand reached between them, stroking Sam’s cock until there was nothing but white noise in his ears and his heart racing.
Sam’s body began to shake apart under him and Dean’s thrusts were harsh and wild. Sam could feel their orgasms coming together and when Dean spoke he couldn’t help but look up.
“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean whispered and Sam watched the way Dean’s eyes grew feverish and heavy as he fucked up into Sam. “Come for me, baby brother.”
Sam gasped at the words even as he felt come spilling over his stomach and chest, Dean’s name ripped from his throat just as Dean let out a heavy moan that sounded suspiciously more like Sam than anything else before he collapsed onto Sam’s chest.
Sam’s heart was racing again and his throat was suddenly dry. He tried to push Dean off him but the fucker wasn’t moving and Sam was having a panic attack because the guy he’d just gone home with had fucked him and called him little brother as they got off.
He tried to get up, but Dean wasn’t going anywhere and when Sam tried to push away again, Dean just laughed, dropping a sloppy kiss to Sam’s forehead and he looked down at him. “Fuck, stress in the morning, Sammy.” He said as he pulled out of Sam’s body, throwing off the used condom before he lay back in bed, curling up against Sam’s side. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and drop you off at home if you want. Or work. Wherever you want to go.”
“You … what you …” he wasn’t sure what to say. Somehow Dean had just managed to quell his panic attack with a simple touch and Sam’s body was so damn lethargic. He couldn’t remember getting off that hard before, couldn’t remember being that worked up over anyone else before. “Don’t call me baby brother,” He finally managed to say, “s’not true.”
He knew it was fucked up, but he felt safe in Dean’s arms and there had been a time in his life when he’d wished more than anything that someone would come claim him. He knew, without even thinking, that he’d let Dean claim him in just about any way he wanted, but not that, not family. He was just a foster kid, someone no one wanted. He couldn’t go back to school and could barely hold down his current job. Whoever Dean was, if he had a little brother, he was someone a lot better than Sam.
Dean kissed the back of his neck and threw an arm over Sam’s hip, pulling him closer. “Talk in the morning, Sammy.”
“You didn’t finish my bedtime story,” Sam whispered.
Dean’s lips moved against the back of his neck and Sam relaxed into it, letting Dean’s words sooth him. “So he took his little brother and protected him, because their father was an evil man. He had lived all his life as a part of something big, something beyond morals and men’s thoughts of power and law. He was a part of the Fraternity, a group of men and women who righted the world’s wrongs, who changed destiny like the fates of Greek mythology, cutting single threads in the tapestry of life. He turned against that family though and went out on his own, killing mercilessly. When the others became aware of his betrayal, the oldest brother knew it was only a matter of time before his father went looking for his youngest son, so he found him and protected him.”
“What happened after he found him?” Sam asked softly.
Dean kissed the back of his ear as he spoke. “He killed his father to make his baby brother was safe. He died to protect him.”
“No,” Sam shook his head as he turned over, burying his head in Dean’s neck. “No, he didn’t. A big brother like that deserves a strong little brother, and he was willing to fight too. And together they both survived and they found their own way to live where they could be happy together without fear.”
Dean sighed as his one hand trailed up and downs Sam’s arm and back. “I like your ending, Sammy. I don’t know if it works in the real world, but I like the idea of it.”
Sam smiled against Dean’s skin. “Best fantasies come from a little truth. If I ever had a big brother, I’d fight for him too.”
“I know you would,” Dean whispered, his voice deeper than it had been but his fingers were stroking Sam’s hair then and he was past tired. “Go to sleep, Sammy.”
Safe in Dean’s arms, he did.
**
Sam woke in bed alone. He stretched, trying to work out the sore muscles before he bothered to open his eyes.
“Finally awake, Sammy?” Dean asked from the kitchen.
Sam sat up in bed and looked across the open space to see Dean leaning against the kitchen island in a pair of loose sweatpants. His chest was bare and so were his feet. He poured a mug full of coffee and smiled at Sam. “How do you take it?”
“Um … black is fine.” Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Cream and sugar. Lots of cream.”
When Dean moved to the counter Sam got out of bed and found another pair of sweatpants sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at them for a second then decided not to worry about it. He pulled them on and stepped down the stairs away from the bed. The morning light came through the windows but the dark film protected them from harsh glares against the polished wood floors. Sam moved over to the island and took a seat on a bar stool as Dean handed over the sugar and creamer. Dean didn’t say anything as Sam fixed his coffee, taking a long sip of it before sighing.
“I figured you for a coffee addict,” Dean said with a smirk as he took a drink from his own mug.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Sam asked.
Dean set his mug down and shrugged as he stepped in between Sam’s legs. He leaned in, brushing his nose against the soft skin under Sam’s jaw. Sam turned his head slightly to give him better access and Dean grabbed his hips, pulling him closer as he kissed the spot right beneath his ear. “Figured there had to be some of me in you.”
“Dean?” Sam pulled back, confused by the words. “What?”
Dean pressed in quickly, kissing Sam lightly before he stepped away, moving to the other side of the island. “You want some breakfast, Sammy? I think I’ve got some pancake mix if you want that, but I make a mean French toast.”
“Dean, what the hell is going on?” Sam watched the tension building in Dean’s shoulders. He swallowed against the lump in his throat because Jesus, what the hell was he doing? He … he had a girlfriend he’d just fucking cheated on, with some guy who … hot as hell … but had strange fantasies in bed and he really needed to get the hell out and get to work before he did something to screw that up too.
“I should just call a cab,” Sam said softly, setting his coffee mug down.
“No, damn it!” Dean yelled as he turned back to look at Sam. His eyes held the same wild passion as they had the night before. “I’ve been waiting for this most of my damn life and you aren’t allowed to just walk away.”
Sam stood up but Dean was already moving to intercept him, keeping himself between Sam and the door. “Dean-”
“Just hear me out, Sammy. I know a lot of what I’m gonna say will be hard to hear but it’s all true and I can prove it. Sam Winchester. He died in a fire when he was six months old. They said it was an electrical malfunction, but his mother, Mary, she was murdered. They said … the papers said her infant son died of smoke inhalation, never even made it to the hospital. She was survived by her husband, John.” Dean reached onto the counter and pulled open his wallet, throwing an ID Sam’s way. “And a son.”
Sam looked at the identification and dropped it immediately. “Dean?”
He nodded. “Dean Winchester.”
“You know he died. Why are you looking at me? I didn’t steal his name, Dean. It’s the only one I ever had.”
“Shhh…” Dean said as Sam got worked up. He had a damn right to it, with Dean blocking the way and accusing Sam of stealing his dead brother’s identity.
“I know you didn’t, Sammy.” Dean stepped closer. “John lied. I don’t know how he managed it, but he faked your death and sent you away. I thought,” Dean’s eyes filled with tears and he took a deep breath. “I thought I’d killed you. Dad gave you to me, told me to run and get you out, but I thought I did something wrong, Sammy. I thought I didn’t get you out fast enough or maybe I held you wrong and the smoke got to you.”
“Dean, no, I’m not that kid.”
“You are. John went missing two weeks ago. When he did I went to check out his apartment. He’s been watching you Sam, ever since you were a kid. Last night I followed him and he led me straight to you.”
Sam stared at him, trying to understand what Dean was saying. “No, that doesn’t make any sense.” He took a step back but jerked to a stop, knowing it was a step closer to the bed. A step closer to where they’d had sex the night before. “No, that would mean, Jesus, what you did, what you, what did you do?”
“I didn’t plan it, Sam, I was just there and she was such a bitch and I could see that she wasn’t taking care of you. You’re mine though. You always were.”
“You said… you said John, my, the man you’re saying is my father. He was there last night?”
Dean nodded. “He came after us when we left, remember? I thought he’d scared you or something when we were driving away.”
He couldn’t catch his breath, his heart started racing faster, and his chest heaved. He couldn’t stop it, needed to find his jacket with his pills but he looked up and he couldn’t see his clothes. The room was pulsing with the beat of his heart.
“Calm down, Sammy,” the words were distorted, but he could make them out over the rushing in his ears. He started to fall backward, but Dean’s hands were on him. It just made his heart beat faster though, until suddenly everything stopped.
He felt the soft press of lips against his forehead and looked up as his heart skipped a beat, calming almost immediately at the intimate moment. He jerked his head back, looking up at Dean who was somehow now straddling his legs as they sat on the floor. He couldn’t think though because all he could see were green eyes staring down at him, eyes like spring grass and the feel of those lips against Sam’s forehead were burned into his memory, as it always had been.
“No,” he whispered, looking up at the only thing he’d ever held sacred. “It wasn’t real.”
“Calm down, Sam,” Dean repeated. “You’re working yourself up and you really aren’t ready for that yet. You gotta let me train you before you let it all loose.”
“I need to leave. I, Dean, I need to go home.”
“To her?” Dean sneered.
“I have to work,” Sam said, grasping at straws. “I need to be there.”
“Sam, listen to me. You gotta be careful. You don’t know anything about John. Hell you barely know me, but you’ve got to trust me, alright?”
Dean was obviously waiting for some kind of sign but Sam didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Trust Dean? The man who was possibly-probably his big brother? The man who knowingly fucked him, believing Sam was his little brother?
“John can’t be trusted, Sam. Look, you and me? We’re special. We’ve got an ability that few people have. It’s something we call bending the bullet. I know it won’t make any sense right now, but in time I’ll show you. John knew that and he tried to keep you from me, he tried to keep you from becoming the person you could be. I’ve been through his notes and journals. He was convinced you were gonna be even stronger than he was, and that in the end, you’d be strong enough to kill him. I don’t know why he’s doing it now, but he’s coming after you Sam. I won’t leave you to face that alone.”
“Dean, I” he swallowed because none of it made sense. “What do you mean?”
“He’s an assassin Sam. It’s … it’s why we’re special. It’s something in our blood. I’ll train you up and keep you safe. John, he’s just, I don’t know. He was always a little on the outside of things. Now though he’s gone completely off the reservation, killing without reason or cause.”
Sam was afraid to move, afraid to make a sound as Dean seemed to get lost in his thoughts, but then Dean turned his green eyes back to Sam and kissed his forehead softly. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ll make us some breakfast and take you back home, alright? I don’t want to keep you from work or anything, but I’ll be around, okay? I’m gonna take care of you.”
Dean got up then, quickly grabbing Sam by the hand and pulling him to his feet. He pushed him into the bathroom and handed Sam towels. “Get a shower, baby, and I’ll get breakfast going.”
Dean didn’t wait for an answer before he closed the door behind him. Sam just stared at it for a few minutes, trying to understand what the hell was happening in his life. His knees gave out and he sat heavily on the lid of the toilet.
This wasn’t happening. It, this, Dean couldn’t be his long lost brother. His father wasn’t alive and looking for him. Sam was just some orphan no one wanted.
Except, now, Dean apparently did.
A shiver went down his spine as the memories of the night before came back, the feel of Dean’s strong sure hands on his body, his lips pressed to Sam’s, the way he filled Sam up and took care of him. The way his arms felt as he held him and the possessive look in his eyes when he’d called Sam little brother and told him to come.
Sam dropped his head to his hands and tried to forget how it had all felt, how safe he’d been with Dean over him, around him, how he’d been willing to let Dean ask anything of him, so long as he didn’t try to make them something they weren’t. Only now Dean was trying to say they were family, and he apparently had no qualms about wanting to be lovers as well.
What was he thinking? Dean had just confessed to being an assassin, right? Why the hell would incest faze him? And Sam was sitting in Dean’s bathroom, wondering what Dean was cooking for breakfast.
What the fuck?
He just, he had to play along. That was all there was to it. He needed to play along and get in the shower and have breakfast and go to work. Dean would get bored of whatever game this was and he’d leave Sam alone. It was his only chance.
Sam stood up, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the shower. It was huge, with multiple jets and Sam tested the settings because in the least Dean owed him a long hot shower. He stayed under the jets for a long time, letting the water sooth his sore muscles and relax him a bit. It wouldn’t last long, not with Dean outside the bathroom door, but it was the best he could do.
When he was done he stepped out and dried off quickly. On the edge of the sink was a new toothbrush still in the wrapping and Sam used it -trying not to think about how often Dean hooked up that he kept them around - before pulling the sweatpants on and heading back out to look for his clothes.
They were waiting on the bed, pants folded precisely and this shirt laid out nice and flat. He dressed quickly and ignored the sounds of Dean in the kitchen area. When he was finished, he walked down to join the man that claimed to be his brother. The man Sam was almost positive was his brother.
He didn’t know why he was so sure of it. Having the same colored eyes as his own imaginary caregiver didn’t make him related. He was connected to Dean though in some way he couldn’t fully understand. And no matter how much he wanted to run, he also knew there was a part of him that was jumping at the chance to belong to someone, to have someone that truly wanted him. It was like there was an echo in his heart and Dean somehow filled that hole, no matter that Sam was sure Dean hadn’t been the one to carve it out in the first place.
“Hungry?” Dean asked as he set a plate of French toast onto the dining table. Sometime while Sam was in the bathroom Dean had gotten dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a dark green shirt. Some cut fruit was already out, along with a plate of bacon and a bottle of syrup. A coffee mug slid up beside him as Dean settled in with his own plate next to Sam. It was quiet while they ate and Sam tried to watch Dean without being noticed.
“I don’t mind, you know?” Dean said softly.
“What?”
“You. Looking at me,” Dean answered as he bit a piece of bacon off. “John raised me on the outskirts of the Fraternity so it was always me and these assassins when I was growing up. I used to imagine you were still there sometimes just so I’d have someone else to play with. I know you didn’t know about me, but I was thinking about you all the time. It’s nice, now. Seeing you for real.”
His voice was soft and sad and it pulled at Sam in ways he didn’t understand. He swallowed his sip of coffee and looked down at his plate. He pushed the food around for a minute before opening his mouth. “When things get really bad, when I just need to get away from my life, I have this place I go, in my head.”
Dean didn’t interrupt, but he stopped eating, giving Sam his whole focus. Sam couldn’t remember the last time someone else had given him that. If Jess had ever been that focused on him, even in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it.
“It isn’t a place really, just, it makes me feel safe. I close my eyes, and I can feel someone holding onto me, arms wrapped tight on my sides, but they’re on top of me, watching out for me. I can feel lips press to my forehead and there are green eyes looking down at me.”
His heart was in his throat as he said it and the look in Dean’s eyes, the raw need made Sam’s eyes dart away. He couldn’t sit there anymore, not with Dean staring at him like he’d just announced a revelation, so he got up and went to wait by the door. Dean was there a second later. They walked down to the car in silence and Sam found himself wondering what it would have been like, to be Dean’s brother. To have this real and true and not just some emotional connection that he kept trying to force. That Dean seemed to be unstable didn’t seem to be factoring into Sam’s thoughts even though he kept trying to remind himself. Dean just seemed far too warm and together to be insane. He didn’t know what to do with any of it. Instead, he just let the silence fill the space between them.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t need to tell Dean the way to his apartment. He just accepted it and got out when Dean stopped the car in front of his place. He was moving towards the door when he heard Dean’s voice.
“Take care, Sammy. I’ll be around.”
Sam looked back at him, heart leaping in his chest at the thought even as he swallowed against the fear of that statement.
Dean just smiled at him. “When you need me, I’ll be here.”
Chapter Two