Someone Else
This is what I do when I'm done with tests and waiting for everyone else to finish :P
Title: Someone Else
Author: Hunters_Retreat
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 4628
Summary: Two years ago Sam arrived at Stanford and started getting surprise packages.
Someone Else
They were all just as painful as the next. There was no rhyme or reason when they came so he found himself cringing at the oddest times, expecting something he had no way of stopping or predicting.
The first time it happened was his first night at Stanford. He was in the dorm, his two roommates all ready to hit the campus to see where they could booze it up best. Rick was a pre-med sophomore and Martin was a junior with no idea what he wanted to do with his life except that college offered him a place to figure it out without having to venture into the scary world of reality. Martin knew the campus well and had it in his head that he could get them into some party or other. In the least he could find someone willing to buy them alcohol so they could bring it back and puke it all up in the safety of their own room.
Sam almost volunteered to buy it for them. His fake ID had passed the inspection of far greater minds than those of the local liquor store cashier. Their easy banter and good natured ribbing reminded him too much of Dean though and it was the last thing he wanted tonight. Instead he watched them leave, promising to go out with them the next night to keep them from thinking he was some kind of straight and narrow.
Sitting in the room alone, he relaxed for the first time since he’d told his father and brother he was leaving. He should have expected something when his guard was down but he hadn’t. Instead, he reached into his duffle and began unpacking. He’d waited until everyone left, not wanting to explain the gun, knife and hunting paraphernalia he needed to unpack and unsure if he’s be able to stash it without them seeing. He wanted to be away from the life he’d led, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe hunting wouldn’t haunt him at Stanford as it had the rest of his life.
His clothes were packed into the small closet the dorm provided, gun hid where his roommates wouldn’t see it, and knife under the pillow the same way Dean slept with his gun. He was reaching down to throw his empty bag under his bed when he realized it wasn’t exactly empty. He frowned in frustration. He’d been packing and unpacking it long enough to know when he was done. His hand slowly reached inside and pulled out a green backpack and his mouth dropped open in surprise. He’d seen similar ones at the bookstore and they were pretty expensive. There was no question who it had come from and his eyes prickled with the unwanted feeling of tears. Dean, as angry as he’d been, had still gone out of his way to show Sam it was OK, that Dean was still there even if Sam said he didn’t want him there. He’d used the backpack until it fell apart and the crumpled, smoky bills he’d found in the front pocket had paid for his first semester’s books.
The next time he found something, it was a gift card to the coffee shop he liked to study at. The envelope had his name on it and was sitting on the desk he always took during English class. There was another class right before that, so it meant Dean must have just put it there. He could swear he still smell the earthy, sometimes metallic smell that meant Dean and Home and Safe. Sam missed the entire lecture because he sat, staring at the envelope.
It never stopped and he never got used to it. An envelope left behind the counter of the bar he went to when he was feeling homesick was full of cash and a small note that just said ‘Don’t sweat it Sasquatch. You’ll do fine.’ in Dean’s tight handwriting. It had been a week before his first exam. He’d done well in the test and he’d taken the money Dean left him and taken his roommates to the bar in celebration. Dean would have appreciated his money being used like that and Sam silently toasted his brother every time he downed a shot. He toasted his brother a lot that night, and cursed him over the porcelain the next morning for not being there with a hand on his back, a wet washcloth, some aspiring and a glass of water to drink it down with.
He looked at the small box in his hands now and took a deep breath, trying to hear what his friends were saying. He’d like to blame his incapacity on the noise or alcohol, but the bar was relatively quiet and he’d only arrived so no alcohol to blur his mind yet. He knew it was just that Dean could still get to him, could still render him dumb and speechless. Two years worth of surprised left for him and not a sight of his brother. They’d talked on the phone of course, but as often as Dean was checking up on him he’d never once stopped to say hello.
“What is it?” Martin nudged him, looking down at the box, breaking Sam’s focus. They weren’t roommates anymore but they were still friends. Now that Sam was in one place long enough to make friends he didn’t let them go too easily.
“Don’t know.”
“Too bad you didn’t get here five minutes ago.” Gina said with a wink that Sam missed.
Sam opened the box and a warm smile passed his lips. The gift was so much like Dean that he couldn’t help it. Inside was a small stack of salt packets, the top three having a single word written on them. Keep. Me. Close. Underneath was a new zippo that already smelled like smoke and fresh dug earth.
Sam didn’t go looking for hunts, but when something caught his attention and he had the power to handle it on his own, he did. If not, he called Bobby or Pastor Jim and passed the news along. Last night he’d been on a hunt, just a haunting in a newly refurbished dorm. When they opened it up for the year a couple mysterious deaths had occurred. It wasn’t an obvious haunting, but by the fourth death Sam saw the pattern and decided to have a go at it himself. He’d managed to dig the grave up before the spirit returned to it’s bones, but as he fumbled for the salt she attacked. He’d managed to finish the salt and burn, but he had a nice hand shaped bruise on his chest from the fight and he knew there was another nasty bruise on his back where he’d been thrown against a tree. Keep me close. Bastard must have seen the whole thing. He wondered how close Dean had been to revealing himself when Sam had been thrown but pushed the thought away.
His friends looked at him questioningly but Sam didn’t want to explain the gift anymore than he wanted to talk about the person giving it. He was a good enough liar to make something stick, but how do you explain two years of surprises from your overly protective brother? The overly protective brother you’d like to find, beat the hell out of, then throw against the hardest surface you could find and kiss him until he was breathless and shaking?
“So uh,” he shrugged slightly, “what happened five minutes ago?” He asked, trying to get Martin and pals off the topic of him and on to the topic of whatever had happened before his arrival.
“Your delivery.” Sam’s gaze sharpened and Martin actually looked startled by the intensity of it. “This guy walks into the bar and starts talking up the bartender. Only reason we noticed was because Gina here was all gaga over him. He came over a few minutes later and asked if I’d deliver a package to you. He bought us a round, but when we told him he could deliver the package himself when you got here, he downed his beer and left.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Um… out the back I think.”
Sam didn’t look back as he ran out the door, leaving his friends confused and more than a bit worried about him. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for though. Home, parked a few bars down from where Sam and his friends had been. He ran his fingers over the black paint, smiling at the fond memories that came with the feel. The Impala was home more than any place Sam had ever lived. She was already cooled down so Sam jumped up on the hood and leaned back against her windshield the way he and Dean used to do on warm nights when they just needed to get away from Dad and whatever motel they were living in. He’d bled on the back seat, watched his father and brother do the same over the years. He’s slept in her, on her, done his homework riding along from one hunt to another, and filled out college applications inside her. His first kiss had been against the bumper, a girl named Maggie who had probably been disappointed when Sam disappeared the day before the big dance. He’d had his first blowjob in the front seat and lost his virginity in the back.
He’d confessed his feeling about Dean to her first and she’d not judged him. She’d witnessed his first fumbling attempt at kissing Dean and been patient as Dean worked his hands against her steering wheel, trying to figure out his own feelings for Sam. She’d given them shelter when Dean learned to accept the change in their relationship, learned to see Sam as the young man he was and not the chubby kid (the real reason Sam hated anyone calling him Sammy. Like Dean needed to be reminded he was having what amounted to an illicit, incestuous relationship with his kid brother whose diapers he had once changed.). More than once he asked her advice on how to handle Dean and Dad and she’d always given him comfort. He’d even asked her how to tell Dean about his full ride to Stanford. She had been amazingly silent on that occasion and for the next two days as he tried to work it out it seemed she found more bumps and dips to jostle him around with to show what she really thought of him leaving Dean.
“What do you think you’re doing on my- Sammy?”
Sam sat up and took a minute to look at Dean. He looked torn between pulling Sam into a fierce hug and running until he’d reached the state line. His dark jeans were faded by design but the cuffs were still clean meaning they were new. That either meant they had been doing OK at the hustling lately or Dean had been having a bad time with the hunt lately and had to restock his wardrobe. The shirt he wore was folded up past the elbows and Sam could see the bandaged across one forearm. Dean’s eyes were changing color almost too fast to catch, the emotions brining out a mosaic of greens that he’d always been able to read him by. Damn, he looked good enough to eat but he knew as soon as he tried to walk closer Dean would bolt like a frightened deer. Dean always had to be in control and Sam was Ok with letting him have that comfort so long as he didn’t actually run. If he did, he’d remember how far Sam was willing to go to chase him.
“Hey Dean. Imagine finding you here.” He said, letting a small smile cross his lips. He wanted, no needed to wrap his arms around Dean and bury himself there, to let Dean know how much he’d missed him these two years but he couldn’t yet. He wrapped his arms around his waist instead to keep from reaching out. He shifted on the hood, letting his legs dangle over the side closest to Dean. “Planning on taking off again before I could find you?”
“Didn’t know you were looking for me Sammy.” Dean said, his face breaking into a smile as he took a few steps closer. He leaned up against the side of the Impala next to Sam, his body brushing up against his brothers.
Innocent enough, but it made Sam’s body warm and he felt his face flush. Dean didn’t say anything but the light in his eyes said he noticed the reaction. Sam sighed, then shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Thoughts like, take me home, and kiss me and fuck me now seemed to get tangled in the way of things like what are you doing here, why are you doing this, and will it ever be safe to come home? “Think I need a drink …” came out of his lips though and Dean chuckled.
“Come on college boy. You got something in that place of yours right?” Dean opened the driver’s door and hoped in before Sam could answer. Not that he needed to. Two months ago he’d come back to his apartment and found a box full of alcohol with a note that said ‘You study too much.’
Sam wasn’t sure what to say to the invitation back to his own place. It could be that Dean wanted to talk about hunting and needed to be someplace private. Most likely he wanted to talk about Dad and finding a way to patch things up between the two of them. They had spoke since Sam told them he was leaving for college and until Dad broke down and made some sort of effort, Sam wasn’t going to waste his energy. Down deep, in a part he kept suppressing, Sam hoped Dean was taking him back to his place for a little bit of tactile reassurance. Knowing Dean was Ok and talking to him wasn’t the same as being in his arms and he missed that more than he cared to dwell on.
He knew it wasn’t moral. He knew it wasn’t right. He’d taken a bunch of psych classes to understand this need he had for Dean. He’d been to therapy and answered all the questions that Dad and Dean would have laughed at him for. His best guess was that he had attachment issues (imagine that!) and that Dean suffered from some sort of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder compounded by a need to keep his mother’s memory fresh by being what he thought she would have been for Sam. What it really amounted to was a completely fucked up need for one another. Throw in Dad’s paranoia and how he pushed them to rely on each other so much, there was no real surprise that Sam would turn to Dean eventually. The fact that Dean looked like sex waiting 24/7 was just the icing on the cake. And damn didn’t Sam want to lick the icing right about now.
He shook his head of those thoughts, reminding himself that he’d closed that chapter of his life two years ago, then got in the car. He closed his eyes as his head leaned back and he ran a hand affectionately on the interior as Dean drove.
“She missed you too.” Dean said, his voice had a smile to it and Sam didn’t need to open his eyes to see it.
The drive was relatively short and Sam’s ackwardness increased as he got to the front door. He nearly dropped the keys twice and in the end Dean took them from him and opened the door himself.
“You know the way around …” Sam said as he made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and bent his head over the sink, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to get a grip on himself. He didn’t need Dean to think he was some kind of social inept that needed his pity. Sam could manage just fine in the romance department thank you very much. He took a few deeps breaths and waited for his hands to stop shaking. When that didn’t happen, he settled for washing his face in cold water before leaving the room to face his brother.
When he walked into the small kitchen he found the shots already lined up. “Planning to party?”
“Always.” He placed a shot in Sam’s hand, clinked it with his own, then downed the shot. They kept at it until the shots were gone and Sam was feeling much more relaxed.
“Maybe we should have waited a little between those …” Sam said with a wide grin.
“And why’s that Sammy?”
“Because it might have kept me from doing this.” Without thought he took the two steps towards Dean, letting his hands rest on either side of the counter as he leaned his body into his brother’s heat. “All I’ve been able to think about since I got that package.” He brushed his lips against Dean’s and when they parted in a moan he dipped his tongue into the familiar taste. He swallowed the rest of the sound Dean was making and let his body rest flush against his brother, feeling his hardness as Dean’s hand fell on the small of his back and pulled him closer.
“My kinda party Sammy.” He said as he looked up at Sam. His smirk reappeared and he attacked then, his lips and teeth marking as he bit his way into any flesh he could find. His hands pulled at Sam’s clothes and Sam found himself being backed into his bedroom.
His shirt was gone and his pants were open by the time they got there. Sam kicked off his shoes as he reached for Dean’s shirt. “Arm?” Sam asked between kisses and bites as his brother’s shirt was sent flying over the side table.
“S’alight. Poltergeist in San Diego.” Dean pulled at Sam’s pants, shoving them down his hips, then reached for his own. “Back ok?”
Sam knocked Dean’s hands away, as he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed. He sat down on it and began lowering Dean’s pants as his brother kicked his shoes off. “Yeah, but you saw that.”
With Dean’s clothes removed, Sam lay back on the bed, watching Dean in all his naked glory. If there was ever a man made to walk the earth in nothing but skin, it was definitely him. Every instinct in him wanted to reach out, to take his brother in hand, to taste him, but he watched instead, waited as Dean took in the sight of him on the bed, ready for him.
Dean’s eyes darkened with lust and gold flecked throughout in a way that made Sam think of trust and love. There were a lot of things Dean didn’t say, but Sam could always hear it in his eyes anyway. The dead panic that showed in too black eyes with dark green that showed no hint of gold. The almost golden-green iris that meant joy and happiness he was all too afraid would vanish. The light green that showed pain, or that with flecks of gold meant loyalty and pride. The look in his eyes now was directed at Sam, had never been anyone else’s and Sam felt something twist deep down to know that Dean could still trust him, love him this much after he’d hurt him so bad.
He reached a hand up and Dean was moving towards him, his body wrapping Sam in a cocoon of warmth and desire. His brother’s lips were against his skin, moving from temple to lips to neck, then along his collarbone. He felt Dean moving, felt him rolling them until Sam was lying on top of Dean and he knew what that meant. It didn’t happen often between then, but it was always Dean’s choice when it did.
“Dean … are you sure?”
“Need you Sammy …” Sam cut him off with a kiss, not wanting Dean to beg when all he ever had to do was even hint at it. Sam was Dean’s through and through and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him.
He reached forward and Dean nipped at his stomach muscles as he got the bottle he needed from the night stand. He set it on the bed as he worked his way down Dean’s body, his lips tracing the path of pain and scars that had become more unknown over the past two years. If Sam had an unusual turn on, besides his brother, it was probably scars because he’d never seen a body as perfect as Dean’s with his wonderful scars. It marked their childhood, their lives together and though he was saddened by the new ones he knew nothing of, he let his tongue run over the memories of their years past.
Dean moaned as Sam reached the lower stomach and bit lightly at the flesh just above the pelvic bone. His hands were gripping the bedspread in white knuckled ecstasy and Sam smiled to himself because if he was already that far gone he was going to be in for a ride tonight. He let his lips trail along the pelvic bone and down his inner thigh, careful to stick to skin and nothing more pronounced.
“Sammy …” the groan escaped and Sam cut his words off again by taking him into his mouth. Whatever dean had been about to say died into a moan that was a more a cross between Sammy and God and pure pleasure. Sam was starting to feel his body responding to Dean’s tone and knew better than hold out too long. He wanted Dean, needed to be inside him so he found the bottle and slicked his fingers up well before stretching Dean out for him.
Dean slid against his fingers, his body responding to Sam’s touch as it always had. “Come on Sammy …” was all that his brother needed to say before Sam withdrew his fingers and placed himself to enter Dean’s body. He moved slowly, trying to let Dean’s body adjust to him after such a long absence, but it was almost too much. Dean was panting beneath him and Sam’s arm shook from the need to hold himself back.
“Jesus Dean …” he cried out when Dean raised his hips, pushing Sam all the way in at once.
“Trying to kill me Sammy?” Dean managed to say between moans as Sam began moving in slow, deep thrusts.
Sam leaned over and nipped at Dean’s earlobe, making him arch his back again. “Trying to make sure you’re up for round two later.”
Dean’s throaty laugh caught Sam deep and he reached between them, his hand stroking Dean. He wasn’t going to last much longer especially if Dean laughed like that again.
“Question is will you be up for a round two Sammy.” Dean’s legs wrapped around Sam pulling him closer, deeper and Sam swore a streak that would have made his father blush. Dean’s body began to shiver and Sam slowed his hand, milking Dean for all the pleasure he could before his orgasm hit. As Dean’s come spilt over his hand, Sam felt his own release and thrust up harsh and deep, letting go of his seed.
Sam collapsed onto one side of Dean after, and felt his brother wrap his strong arms around him, comforting and loving. The second round came soon after, and in the middle of the night Sam woke to his brother’s lips on his which started round three.
In the morning, Sam woke to Dean sitting on the side of the bed, dressed and looking down into his hands. “Dean?”
“I gotta go Sammy. Should have left last night really.”
“OK.” He said, knowing there was more to what Dean was saying but afraid to ask what. He knew it needed to be said though, whatever it was so he pushed just like he always did. “I’ll see you soon though, right? No more hiding behind deliveries?”
Dean stood, distancing himself like he always did. “No more deliveries Sammy. I won’t be coming back.”
“Dean…”
“Look Sammy. Sam. I shouldn’t have come last night. You … I shouldn’t have been doing this to you the last two years. You told me what you wanted before you left for school and I tried Sam, I really did try to give you that. But the thing is, you’re never coming home are you?” he asked.
Sam took a deep breath. “Dean. I don’t want to hunt, I’ve never wanted that life. That was Dad’s thing and he made it ours. But I still want you in my life.”
“You want a normal life Sam. A normal family, with a normal brother you can parade around with your wife and 2.5 kids.”
Sam fought the anger it brought up, but he could still hear it in his voice. “Is there something wrong with that Dean?”
Dean shook his head, light green eyes regarding him coolly in the mask Sam knew well and hated. “No Sammy, there isn’t, but it’s not me. It’s not … this.” He took a deep breath, the mask breaking and tears forming in his eyes. “Thing is Sammy, I can’t do this. I can’t keep coming and looking out for you when all you want is to get away. I know you still want your brother, but I can’t be that Sam. What we have between us … I can’t be your lover in the meantime while you shop for a wife. I can’t be the brother that smiles when you introduce us and that’s happy you found love. I can’t be that Sammy and don’t ask me to.”
Sam was speechless. He didn’t know how he felt about Dean’s revelation but before he could figure it out Dean was on him, forcing his tongue past Sam’s lips in a desperate kiss. He pillaged Sam’s mouth, then ripped away from it, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “I love you Sam. Take care of yourself.”
“Dean?” Sam felt himself rising even as Dean was walking away. Dean didn’t stop, didn’t answer and Sam jumped out of bed and ran to the front of the apartment in time to hear the door slam. “Dean …” he whispered to the closed door, his head resting against it as it had his brother only moments before.
Outside he heard the Impala start up. She made an odd sort of keening that sounded too much like I love you and goodbye and it was the final straw. Sam dropped to his knees and choked on tears that were forcing their way out.
He didn’t move until the afternoon was half gone and then only to the bathroom and back to bed. The bed that still smelled of Dean and sex and safe and home.
Six months later he felt something click inside him, like some connection to Dean had finally been blocked. Across state lines that Sam didn’t know to count, Dean met a young college woman who fought with him about everything and exploded into passionate lectures about what was right and wrong and he tried to love her because of it.
Sam went out with friends to mourn in his own way and met a young woman whose eyes spoke worlds more than her words did and he tried to love her because of that.
Because maybe if he couldn’t love what he did, he could love the same things in someone else.
Title: Someone Else
Author: Hunters_Retreat
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 4628
Summary: Two years ago Sam arrived at Stanford and started getting surprise packages.
Someone Else
They were all just as painful as the next. There was no rhyme or reason when they came so he found himself cringing at the oddest times, expecting something he had no way of stopping or predicting.
The first time it happened was his first night at Stanford. He was in the dorm, his two roommates all ready to hit the campus to see where they could booze it up best. Rick was a pre-med sophomore and Martin was a junior with no idea what he wanted to do with his life except that college offered him a place to figure it out without having to venture into the scary world of reality. Martin knew the campus well and had it in his head that he could get them into some party or other. In the least he could find someone willing to buy them alcohol so they could bring it back and puke it all up in the safety of their own room.
Sam almost volunteered to buy it for them. His fake ID had passed the inspection of far greater minds than those of the local liquor store cashier. Their easy banter and good natured ribbing reminded him too much of Dean though and it was the last thing he wanted tonight. Instead he watched them leave, promising to go out with them the next night to keep them from thinking he was some kind of straight and narrow.
Sitting in the room alone, he relaxed for the first time since he’d told his father and brother he was leaving. He should have expected something when his guard was down but he hadn’t. Instead, he reached into his duffle and began unpacking. He’d waited until everyone left, not wanting to explain the gun, knife and hunting paraphernalia he needed to unpack and unsure if he’s be able to stash it without them seeing. He wanted to be away from the life he’d led, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe hunting wouldn’t haunt him at Stanford as it had the rest of his life.
His clothes were packed into the small closet the dorm provided, gun hid where his roommates wouldn’t see it, and knife under the pillow the same way Dean slept with his gun. He was reaching down to throw his empty bag under his bed when he realized it wasn’t exactly empty. He frowned in frustration. He’d been packing and unpacking it long enough to know when he was done. His hand slowly reached inside and pulled out a green backpack and his mouth dropped open in surprise. He’d seen similar ones at the bookstore and they were pretty expensive. There was no question who it had come from and his eyes prickled with the unwanted feeling of tears. Dean, as angry as he’d been, had still gone out of his way to show Sam it was OK, that Dean was still there even if Sam said he didn’t want him there. He’d used the backpack until it fell apart and the crumpled, smoky bills he’d found in the front pocket had paid for his first semester’s books.
The next time he found something, it was a gift card to the coffee shop he liked to study at. The envelope had his name on it and was sitting on the desk he always took during English class. There was another class right before that, so it meant Dean must have just put it there. He could swear he still smell the earthy, sometimes metallic smell that meant Dean and Home and Safe. Sam missed the entire lecture because he sat, staring at the envelope.
It never stopped and he never got used to it. An envelope left behind the counter of the bar he went to when he was feeling homesick was full of cash and a small note that just said ‘Don’t sweat it Sasquatch. You’ll do fine.’ in Dean’s tight handwriting. It had been a week before his first exam. He’d done well in the test and he’d taken the money Dean left him and taken his roommates to the bar in celebration. Dean would have appreciated his money being used like that and Sam silently toasted his brother every time he downed a shot. He toasted his brother a lot that night, and cursed him over the porcelain the next morning for not being there with a hand on his back, a wet washcloth, some aspiring and a glass of water to drink it down with.
He looked at the small box in his hands now and took a deep breath, trying to hear what his friends were saying. He’d like to blame his incapacity on the noise or alcohol, but the bar was relatively quiet and he’d only arrived so no alcohol to blur his mind yet. He knew it was just that Dean could still get to him, could still render him dumb and speechless. Two years worth of surprised left for him and not a sight of his brother. They’d talked on the phone of course, but as often as Dean was checking up on him he’d never once stopped to say hello.
“What is it?” Martin nudged him, looking down at the box, breaking Sam’s focus. They weren’t roommates anymore but they were still friends. Now that Sam was in one place long enough to make friends he didn’t let them go too easily.
“Don’t know.”
“Too bad you didn’t get here five minutes ago.” Gina said with a wink that Sam missed.
Sam opened the box and a warm smile passed his lips. The gift was so much like Dean that he couldn’t help it. Inside was a small stack of salt packets, the top three having a single word written on them. Keep. Me. Close. Underneath was a new zippo that already smelled like smoke and fresh dug earth.
Sam didn’t go looking for hunts, but when something caught his attention and he had the power to handle it on his own, he did. If not, he called Bobby or Pastor Jim and passed the news along. Last night he’d been on a hunt, just a haunting in a newly refurbished dorm. When they opened it up for the year a couple mysterious deaths had occurred. It wasn’t an obvious haunting, but by the fourth death Sam saw the pattern and decided to have a go at it himself. He’d managed to dig the grave up before the spirit returned to it’s bones, but as he fumbled for the salt she attacked. He’d managed to finish the salt and burn, but he had a nice hand shaped bruise on his chest from the fight and he knew there was another nasty bruise on his back where he’d been thrown against a tree. Keep me close. Bastard must have seen the whole thing. He wondered how close Dean had been to revealing himself when Sam had been thrown but pushed the thought away.
His friends looked at him questioningly but Sam didn’t want to explain the gift anymore than he wanted to talk about the person giving it. He was a good enough liar to make something stick, but how do you explain two years of surprises from your overly protective brother? The overly protective brother you’d like to find, beat the hell out of, then throw against the hardest surface you could find and kiss him until he was breathless and shaking?
“So uh,” he shrugged slightly, “what happened five minutes ago?” He asked, trying to get Martin and pals off the topic of him and on to the topic of whatever had happened before his arrival.
“Your delivery.” Sam’s gaze sharpened and Martin actually looked startled by the intensity of it. “This guy walks into the bar and starts talking up the bartender. Only reason we noticed was because Gina here was all gaga over him. He came over a few minutes later and asked if I’d deliver a package to you. He bought us a round, but when we told him he could deliver the package himself when you got here, he downed his beer and left.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Um… out the back I think.”
Sam didn’t look back as he ran out the door, leaving his friends confused and more than a bit worried about him. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for though. Home, parked a few bars down from where Sam and his friends had been. He ran his fingers over the black paint, smiling at the fond memories that came with the feel. The Impala was home more than any place Sam had ever lived. She was already cooled down so Sam jumped up on the hood and leaned back against her windshield the way he and Dean used to do on warm nights when they just needed to get away from Dad and whatever motel they were living in. He’d bled on the back seat, watched his father and brother do the same over the years. He’s slept in her, on her, done his homework riding along from one hunt to another, and filled out college applications inside her. His first kiss had been against the bumper, a girl named Maggie who had probably been disappointed when Sam disappeared the day before the big dance. He’d had his first blowjob in the front seat and lost his virginity in the back.
He’d confessed his feeling about Dean to her first and she’d not judged him. She’d witnessed his first fumbling attempt at kissing Dean and been patient as Dean worked his hands against her steering wheel, trying to figure out his own feelings for Sam. She’d given them shelter when Dean learned to accept the change in their relationship, learned to see Sam as the young man he was and not the chubby kid (the real reason Sam hated anyone calling him Sammy. Like Dean needed to be reminded he was having what amounted to an illicit, incestuous relationship with his kid brother whose diapers he had once changed.). More than once he asked her advice on how to handle Dean and Dad and she’d always given him comfort. He’d even asked her how to tell Dean about his full ride to Stanford. She had been amazingly silent on that occasion and for the next two days as he tried to work it out it seemed she found more bumps and dips to jostle him around with to show what she really thought of him leaving Dean.
“What do you think you’re doing on my- Sammy?”
Sam sat up and took a minute to look at Dean. He looked torn between pulling Sam into a fierce hug and running until he’d reached the state line. His dark jeans were faded by design but the cuffs were still clean meaning they were new. That either meant they had been doing OK at the hustling lately or Dean had been having a bad time with the hunt lately and had to restock his wardrobe. The shirt he wore was folded up past the elbows and Sam could see the bandaged across one forearm. Dean’s eyes were changing color almost too fast to catch, the emotions brining out a mosaic of greens that he’d always been able to read him by. Damn, he looked good enough to eat but he knew as soon as he tried to walk closer Dean would bolt like a frightened deer. Dean always had to be in control and Sam was Ok with letting him have that comfort so long as he didn’t actually run. If he did, he’d remember how far Sam was willing to go to chase him.
“Hey Dean. Imagine finding you here.” He said, letting a small smile cross his lips. He wanted, no needed to wrap his arms around Dean and bury himself there, to let Dean know how much he’d missed him these two years but he couldn’t yet. He wrapped his arms around his waist instead to keep from reaching out. He shifted on the hood, letting his legs dangle over the side closest to Dean. “Planning on taking off again before I could find you?”
“Didn’t know you were looking for me Sammy.” Dean said, his face breaking into a smile as he took a few steps closer. He leaned up against the side of the Impala next to Sam, his body brushing up against his brothers.
Innocent enough, but it made Sam’s body warm and he felt his face flush. Dean didn’t say anything but the light in his eyes said he noticed the reaction. Sam sighed, then shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Thoughts like, take me home, and kiss me and fuck me now seemed to get tangled in the way of things like what are you doing here, why are you doing this, and will it ever be safe to come home? “Think I need a drink …” came out of his lips though and Dean chuckled.
“Come on college boy. You got something in that place of yours right?” Dean opened the driver’s door and hoped in before Sam could answer. Not that he needed to. Two months ago he’d come back to his apartment and found a box full of alcohol with a note that said ‘You study too much.’
Sam wasn’t sure what to say to the invitation back to his own place. It could be that Dean wanted to talk about hunting and needed to be someplace private. Most likely he wanted to talk about Dad and finding a way to patch things up between the two of them. They had spoke since Sam told them he was leaving for college and until Dad broke down and made some sort of effort, Sam wasn’t going to waste his energy. Down deep, in a part he kept suppressing, Sam hoped Dean was taking him back to his place for a little bit of tactile reassurance. Knowing Dean was Ok and talking to him wasn’t the same as being in his arms and he missed that more than he cared to dwell on.
He knew it wasn’t moral. He knew it wasn’t right. He’d taken a bunch of psych classes to understand this need he had for Dean. He’d been to therapy and answered all the questions that Dad and Dean would have laughed at him for. His best guess was that he had attachment issues (imagine that!) and that Dean suffered from some sort of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder compounded by a need to keep his mother’s memory fresh by being what he thought she would have been for Sam. What it really amounted to was a completely fucked up need for one another. Throw in Dad’s paranoia and how he pushed them to rely on each other so much, there was no real surprise that Sam would turn to Dean eventually. The fact that Dean looked like sex waiting 24/7 was just the icing on the cake. And damn didn’t Sam want to lick the icing right about now.
He shook his head of those thoughts, reminding himself that he’d closed that chapter of his life two years ago, then got in the car. He closed his eyes as his head leaned back and he ran a hand affectionately on the interior as Dean drove.
“She missed you too.” Dean said, his voice had a smile to it and Sam didn’t need to open his eyes to see it.
The drive was relatively short and Sam’s ackwardness increased as he got to the front door. He nearly dropped the keys twice and in the end Dean took them from him and opened the door himself.
“You know the way around …” Sam said as he made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and bent his head over the sink, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to get a grip on himself. He didn’t need Dean to think he was some kind of social inept that needed his pity. Sam could manage just fine in the romance department thank you very much. He took a few deeps breaths and waited for his hands to stop shaking. When that didn’t happen, he settled for washing his face in cold water before leaving the room to face his brother.
When he walked into the small kitchen he found the shots already lined up. “Planning to party?”
“Always.” He placed a shot in Sam’s hand, clinked it with his own, then downed the shot. They kept at it until the shots were gone and Sam was feeling much more relaxed.
“Maybe we should have waited a little between those …” Sam said with a wide grin.
“And why’s that Sammy?”
“Because it might have kept me from doing this.” Without thought he took the two steps towards Dean, letting his hands rest on either side of the counter as he leaned his body into his brother’s heat. “All I’ve been able to think about since I got that package.” He brushed his lips against Dean’s and when they parted in a moan he dipped his tongue into the familiar taste. He swallowed the rest of the sound Dean was making and let his body rest flush against his brother, feeling his hardness as Dean’s hand fell on the small of his back and pulled him closer.
“My kinda party Sammy.” He said as he looked up at Sam. His smirk reappeared and he attacked then, his lips and teeth marking as he bit his way into any flesh he could find. His hands pulled at Sam’s clothes and Sam found himself being backed into his bedroom.
His shirt was gone and his pants were open by the time they got there. Sam kicked off his shoes as he reached for Dean’s shirt. “Arm?” Sam asked between kisses and bites as his brother’s shirt was sent flying over the side table.
“S’alight. Poltergeist in San Diego.” Dean pulled at Sam’s pants, shoving them down his hips, then reached for his own. “Back ok?”
Sam knocked Dean’s hands away, as he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed. He sat down on it and began lowering Dean’s pants as his brother kicked his shoes off. “Yeah, but you saw that.”
With Dean’s clothes removed, Sam lay back on the bed, watching Dean in all his naked glory. If there was ever a man made to walk the earth in nothing but skin, it was definitely him. Every instinct in him wanted to reach out, to take his brother in hand, to taste him, but he watched instead, waited as Dean took in the sight of him on the bed, ready for him.
Dean’s eyes darkened with lust and gold flecked throughout in a way that made Sam think of trust and love. There were a lot of things Dean didn’t say, but Sam could always hear it in his eyes anyway. The dead panic that showed in too black eyes with dark green that showed no hint of gold. The almost golden-green iris that meant joy and happiness he was all too afraid would vanish. The light green that showed pain, or that with flecks of gold meant loyalty and pride. The look in his eyes now was directed at Sam, had never been anyone else’s and Sam felt something twist deep down to know that Dean could still trust him, love him this much after he’d hurt him so bad.
He reached a hand up and Dean was moving towards him, his body wrapping Sam in a cocoon of warmth and desire. His brother’s lips were against his skin, moving from temple to lips to neck, then along his collarbone. He felt Dean moving, felt him rolling them until Sam was lying on top of Dean and he knew what that meant. It didn’t happen often between then, but it was always Dean’s choice when it did.
“Dean … are you sure?”
“Need you Sammy …” Sam cut him off with a kiss, not wanting Dean to beg when all he ever had to do was even hint at it. Sam was Dean’s through and through and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him.
He reached forward and Dean nipped at his stomach muscles as he got the bottle he needed from the night stand. He set it on the bed as he worked his way down Dean’s body, his lips tracing the path of pain and scars that had become more unknown over the past two years. If Sam had an unusual turn on, besides his brother, it was probably scars because he’d never seen a body as perfect as Dean’s with his wonderful scars. It marked their childhood, their lives together and though he was saddened by the new ones he knew nothing of, he let his tongue run over the memories of their years past.
Dean moaned as Sam reached the lower stomach and bit lightly at the flesh just above the pelvic bone. His hands were gripping the bedspread in white knuckled ecstasy and Sam smiled to himself because if he was already that far gone he was going to be in for a ride tonight. He let his lips trail along the pelvic bone and down his inner thigh, careful to stick to skin and nothing more pronounced.
“Sammy …” the groan escaped and Sam cut his words off again by taking him into his mouth. Whatever dean had been about to say died into a moan that was a more a cross between Sammy and God and pure pleasure. Sam was starting to feel his body responding to Dean’s tone and knew better than hold out too long. He wanted Dean, needed to be inside him so he found the bottle and slicked his fingers up well before stretching Dean out for him.
Dean slid against his fingers, his body responding to Sam’s touch as it always had. “Come on Sammy …” was all that his brother needed to say before Sam withdrew his fingers and placed himself to enter Dean’s body. He moved slowly, trying to let Dean’s body adjust to him after such a long absence, but it was almost too much. Dean was panting beneath him and Sam’s arm shook from the need to hold himself back.
“Jesus Dean …” he cried out when Dean raised his hips, pushing Sam all the way in at once.
“Trying to kill me Sammy?” Dean managed to say between moans as Sam began moving in slow, deep thrusts.
Sam leaned over and nipped at Dean’s earlobe, making him arch his back again. “Trying to make sure you’re up for round two later.”
Dean’s throaty laugh caught Sam deep and he reached between them, his hand stroking Dean. He wasn’t going to last much longer especially if Dean laughed like that again.
“Question is will you be up for a round two Sammy.” Dean’s legs wrapped around Sam pulling him closer, deeper and Sam swore a streak that would have made his father blush. Dean’s body began to shiver and Sam slowed his hand, milking Dean for all the pleasure he could before his orgasm hit. As Dean’s come spilt over his hand, Sam felt his own release and thrust up harsh and deep, letting go of his seed.
Sam collapsed onto one side of Dean after, and felt his brother wrap his strong arms around him, comforting and loving. The second round came soon after, and in the middle of the night Sam woke to his brother’s lips on his which started round three.
In the morning, Sam woke to Dean sitting on the side of the bed, dressed and looking down into his hands. “Dean?”
“I gotta go Sammy. Should have left last night really.”
“OK.” He said, knowing there was more to what Dean was saying but afraid to ask what. He knew it needed to be said though, whatever it was so he pushed just like he always did. “I’ll see you soon though, right? No more hiding behind deliveries?”
Dean stood, distancing himself like he always did. “No more deliveries Sammy. I won’t be coming back.”
“Dean…”
“Look Sammy. Sam. I shouldn’t have come last night. You … I shouldn’t have been doing this to you the last two years. You told me what you wanted before you left for school and I tried Sam, I really did try to give you that. But the thing is, you’re never coming home are you?” he asked.
Sam took a deep breath. “Dean. I don’t want to hunt, I’ve never wanted that life. That was Dad’s thing and he made it ours. But I still want you in my life.”
“You want a normal life Sam. A normal family, with a normal brother you can parade around with your wife and 2.5 kids.”
Sam fought the anger it brought up, but he could still hear it in his voice. “Is there something wrong with that Dean?”
Dean shook his head, light green eyes regarding him coolly in the mask Sam knew well and hated. “No Sammy, there isn’t, but it’s not me. It’s not … this.” He took a deep breath, the mask breaking and tears forming in his eyes. “Thing is Sammy, I can’t do this. I can’t keep coming and looking out for you when all you want is to get away. I know you still want your brother, but I can’t be that Sam. What we have between us … I can’t be your lover in the meantime while you shop for a wife. I can’t be the brother that smiles when you introduce us and that’s happy you found love. I can’t be that Sammy and don’t ask me to.”
Sam was speechless. He didn’t know how he felt about Dean’s revelation but before he could figure it out Dean was on him, forcing his tongue past Sam’s lips in a desperate kiss. He pillaged Sam’s mouth, then ripped away from it, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “I love you Sam. Take care of yourself.”
“Dean?” Sam felt himself rising even as Dean was walking away. Dean didn’t stop, didn’t answer and Sam jumped out of bed and ran to the front of the apartment in time to hear the door slam. “Dean …” he whispered to the closed door, his head resting against it as it had his brother only moments before.
Outside he heard the Impala start up. She made an odd sort of keening that sounded too much like I love you and goodbye and it was the final straw. Sam dropped to his knees and choked on tears that were forcing their way out.
He didn’t move until the afternoon was half gone and then only to the bathroom and back to bed. The bed that still smelled of Dean and sex and safe and home.
Six months later he felt something click inside him, like some connection to Dean had finally been blocked. Across state lines that Sam didn’t know to count, Dean met a young college woman who fought with him about everything and exploded into passionate lectures about what was right and wrong and he tried to love her because of it.
Sam went out with friends to mourn in his own way and met a young woman whose eyes spoke worlds more than her words did and he tried to love her because of that.
Because maybe if he couldn’t love what he did, he could love the same things in someone else.