entry 055 - spn
Title: Walking Away
Author: jamie_love13
Beta-Edited: By No One
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean Winchester (Yes, that means Incest!!)
Word Count: 2,900-ish.
Rating: R
Genre: Angsty. Don't know?
Spoilers: None, general season 1.
Status: Complete
Summary: Sam gets set up on a date by his roomates, and meets someone he never thought he'd see again.
Disclaimer: Definitely don't own.
Warnings: Sex, lots of it. Handjobs, swearing, incest, sadness
Notes: For a prompt. Look on my prompting post ;) If there are mistakes, blame the fact that I did everything on my iPod. That's fucking dedication, right there, aha.
Day after day it was always the same. Slam the snooze button by throwing the clock across the room, barely missing his window; pull his blanket up over him and try to fall back asleep. However, after twenty minutes, he would be more awake and would throw back his blankets and head toward the shower, nearly bumping into his housemates, Brady and Jess. He'll spend fifteen minutes in the shower --don'tthinkofhimdon'tthinkofhim -- towel dry, walk to his room in said towel, put on some fucking clothes and ignore Jess staring at him through the mirror before slamming his door and rolling his eyes. After getting dressed, he makes his way to the kitchen for some Raisin Bran or Frosted Flakes -- depending. He tries not to think of certain things -- peopleheisnotathing while he's eating but eating the two favorite cereals never helps. He eats in a rush, not bothering to feel the texture of the flake on his tongue or let the taste of the sugar truly reach his taste buds. He ignores Jess and Brady, simply eats his cereal of the day and tries so hard not to think -- though that never goes well because he'll always look up at the clock on the top of the grimy old white stove and see that he's nearly late for his first class and will rush to make it in time -- which he obviously does. He'll go to his seat in the top row, remain inconspicuous and see all the exits plus the people, and go on with his day -- stilldonotthinkofitdon'tdammit--. By five o'clock, he'll be back, drinking a beer, thinking of the two things he tries not to think about ever, regretting his decision. There have only been two times he's ever broken this routine -- the middle of his first year when he finally got a job with cars (he guessed he missed home a little too much) and a year ago, his second year, when he finally gave in and asked a friend how that person was doing. Today, however, today is immediately different and off kilter. Sam wakes up before his alarm clock even goes off and he doesn't bother snoozing it up some more. He goes to take a shower and passes Jess, who's got a smirk so wide. He ignores it, figures she's just full of another idea to her him into bed --bisexual,should'vesaidhewasay -- and who knows, maybe for once he'll relent. Heads to the shower and palms his dick, desperately thinks deanddeanddean, even though he knows it's useless; the one person that means the most is gone. He goes to dress, finds two items of he forgot about, two of his favorite pieces of clothing of Dean's, puts them on and Jesus fucking Christ if his heart speeds up just by the smell of Dean, what would he do if he even saw Dean again? He shakes his head and goes downstairs for some breakfast, thinking Frosted Flakes for today. However, as he gets to the kitchen, he's waylaid by his two roomies. He quirks his brow at them, gestures for them to talk to him cause he's too fucking starved to do otherwise.
"Sam, it's Saturday," that's Jess. She's currently wearing really short shorts, making her legs seem like they run for miles but they don't; a smurfs shirt that rides up, showing just a small amount of underboob. He can't help but stare and think of how much Dean would love her attire, and he sighs, wanting to smack himself for just thinking about it.
"Yeah, okay, so?" Sam replies, a bemused smile on his face. He see's Brady sigh and roll his eyes. Sam remembers the time they fucked -- before they really knew each other, before Brady knew Dean was a brother and not someone who's name you should be moaning when you're with another person. His hair is medium length, needs a trim; his eyes have a silver quality to them, and not for the first time. Sam wonders if Brady's possessed. Thinks christo and nothing happens but then again, you have to say it.
"Sam, when was the last time you got laid?" That was from Jess, who sweeps her long curly blond hair aside. Sam's surprised to realize that he actually has to think about that for a while. He wonders if his last one was Brady, and he flinches, hoping not.
"Exactly, Sammy." He bares his teeth at that, watches how Brady flinches, realizes his mistake. And calling him Sammy is a big one.
"Alright, so what's your point?" He sees them look at one another, give each other a slight smirk before Jess goes into his room. He shouts, doesn't want her in there, but something Brady said has caught him off guard.
"What?"
"We're setting you up on a blind date at a place a little way from here. It's why Jess is picking out your clothes, and why you're going to get laid," Brady grins, the smile just reaching his eyes. Sam wants to say no, wants to say he doesn't need it, but they all know he'd be lying. Truth is, while he misses -- DeandonotsayDean -- he does need to move on because Jesus fucking Christ, it's been nearly three years; and other than a random lay every now and then --BradyJessandadudefromabarwholookedlikeDean -- he really needs to get over his damn brother. They broke up -- Sam'sfaultallSam's -- he walked away when he totally shouldn't have -- abigregret -- and he's probably the only one still doing the missing. He sighs, rubs the palm of his hand into his eyes and bites his lip.
"Fine, but at least let me pick my own clothes." Brady laughs, nods his head. He shouts out at Jess and soon, she comes out of the room with a pout.
***
Sam entered the restaurant with a flutter of nerves rumbling in his stomach. He had gone with a pair of dark washed jeans that he had begrudgingly bought after he arrived to Stanford. The jeans were a little snug in the waist, and Sam wished he bought a size larger like he planned. He was wearing his normal sneakers, the ones that were with him when he did his first hung, kissed his first girl, lost his virginity, realized he was gay, kissed his brother for the first time, and so much more. He had decided to keep those two items of clothing that belonged to Dean on -- a long sleeved black shirt that Sam wore when he wanted to cover up his arms or even remember what it was like to be held down by his brother. Over top of that was a plaid button up that Dean probably missed. Sam didn't care though, cause well fuck, he loved that shirt. He quickly looks around, wondering if the guy he's suppose to meet is here. He was told the guy would be wearing a leather jacket, which wasn't normal during this time of year in California and therefore, perfect for Sam to try and find. He took another glance around the room, a slower, more cautious one. He could see a couple in the far corner looking very cozy, the guys arm around the girl, whispering in her ear, with the girl giggling. Next to that couple was a girl, sitting on the side of the booths, her laptop out on the table. If there was one thing about this restaurant that Sam liked, it was the fact that the place was like a low key Starbucks. Next to the girl was an empty table and beside that was a table with a person wearing a leather jacket. Sam, still hidden from the lighting of the place, couldn't see the guys face very well. From what he could see, the guy was also wearing dark jeans, but paired chunky black boots. He slowly glanced up to the chest, unable to see his hands and god did they look amazing. Sam then looks up to the neck area and immediately freezes. Because while the guys hands are amazing, they keep going to the necklace the guy is wearing. Normally, Sam wouldn't care, would say it was store bought, but he knows thats not the case because he knows there is only one necklace like that. He can feel his heartbeat speed up, his palms begin to sweat. He never expected to see his brother again, not since the ultimatum, or his no to coming with him, and he feels like Dean doesn't know why he's here, but maybe he does because why else would he be here in California. After looking a little more closely, Sam could see that Dean looks exactly the same, but with worry and nerves showing on his face. He bites his lip, looks up and into Sam's eyes immediately, shock marring his features. Obviously, Dean didn't know. Sam sighs, feels the butterflies in his stomach and tries to calm them before he walks to his brother. He walks slowly to the table, his hands in his pockets and his head down, trying very hard not to blush at his choice of clothes. He can see the grin Dean has, And when he finally sits down and looks at his brother, he can't help but look back down. Well fuck, his heart hurts. He bites his lip, finally looks up at his brother and keeps his gaze locked on his. He wants to speak, wants to say everything he never said all those years ago now, but he knows Dean won't hear of it. Because of that, he has no idea where to begin. Instead, he decides to look at Dean's hands but then he imagines the rough pulling, scratching and grabs they use to do and now that's no good.
"Hi Dean," Sam blushes, bites his lips and plays with the forks to keep his hands moving, to keep moving period. Dean looks up at him, has a small smile on his face, so uncharacteristic of him. He wants to say hi but he feels all garbled, like everything won't come out.
"What are you doing here?" He says instead, blushes and looks down. He can never say the right thing with Dean, even when he was young. He hears Dean chuckle and suddenly looks up.
"Why are you so shy, Sammy?" Dean has a shine in his eyes and Sam sighs, shrugging.
"Why are you here Dean, and not on a hunt?"
"I am on a hunt -- I... I just wanted to see you again and I was approached by some guy to go on a blind date and I didn't want to but he was my case so--"
"So you had to?" Sam's hurt by that, and it clearly shows because Dean's backtracking.
"No, Sam, no. I wanted to see you, was going to after this but it's you and you're here. " Dean shrugs, a cocky smile replacing the grin he was holding. Sam nods, and they order their food. It's eaten in mostly silence, with a few random questions.
"How's the school?"
"How's Dad?"
"Been in any hospitals lately?"
"Do you miss me as much as I miss you?" Sam freezes as the question leaves his mouth, wishes he could take it back -- his eyes are wide, his fists clenched and his jaws locked, and yet, he can't look away from Dean. He watches as Dean's features close off, his eyes turn dark and his mouth turns down. He see's Dean reach for his back pocket, ready to grab his wallet and Sam can feel his heartbeat speed up in nerves. He doesn't want Dean to leave, not yet. He looks up, ready to beg for Dean to stay, only to see that he's gone. Looking wildly around, Sam begins to panic until he spots Dean by the door, hand on the knob, body angled towards Sam, a cocky grin on his face.
"You comin' or what, Sammy?"
***
He pushes Dean up against the motel room door, his mouth pressed against his brothers, his tongue begging for entrance. The kiss is fast paced and sloppy, like they've been dehydrated from this for so long, which if Sam had cared to think about it, they have been. He rips Dean's button-up shirt off, buttons flying everywhere. They're making their way to the bed, pants and other articles of clothing flying everywhere. He backs into the bed, flips positions with Dean and pushes him back onto the bed, kissing each other like crazy. Their cocks are hard against one another, precum leaking. Sam stokes Dean's dick fast, hard, hears the groans and moans he's missed for so long. He grabs his brothers balls and squeezes them, feeling the tightness in them.
"God Sam -- Sammy, please." Dean moans, his hips thrusting upwards when Sam gently blows on Dean's cock. He wants to feel it in him, feel like he hasn't felt it in forever. He kisses his way up to Dean's neck, sucks on it for a while. He hears himself begging, asking for permission to be ridden, like he use to when they first started having sex. He can feel Dean straighten himself out as Sam inches himself up on Dean. His head falls back, a moan escaping his mouth as Dean puts his hands on Sam's waist, squeezing as he begins to thrust. Pretty soon, Sam finds himself matching Dean's thrusts, making his breath pant and gasp. He bites his lip, tries not to scream but Dean always brought the best out of him.
"Oh god Dean, fuck yes, please." He stutters, his hips breaking speed as his hand wraps around his dick and starts squeezing and stroking. There's cum shooting out on to his stomach, with Dean's hand coming to wrap around Sam's dick.
"Tell me to stay with you, Sammy." Sam does just that as he feels Dean coming inside of him. Sam keeps going, keeps muttering stay with me, until finally, the two of them fall asleep wrapped around one another, Dean whispering those two words.
***
Sam wakes up to something crashing onto the ground and Dean muttering a few choice curse words. He sits up, watches as Dean puts on his pants, can feel his heart speed up in fear. Deep down, he knows what this means but he doesn't want to believe it. Can't believe it.
"Dean? What are you doing?" He sees Dean stop and look up at him, biting his lip. Sam doesn't like that look, never did, and he starts to put on his own boxers after pushing the blankets off of him.
"I'm going -- leaving." Dean replies, looking down at his shoes.
"But you -- I -- you -- I begged you to stay and you said okay." Sam won't lie, he's confused. He knows Dean wouldn't lie, not about this, so why is he not looking at him?
"I know. But -- I -- shit, I lied!" Sam starts to sweat, can feel it in his bones that Dean's lying -- won't let him get away with it.
"Don't -- don't say that. You're lying." Sam gasps, falling back, his eyes wide with dismay. He can see his brother's grip tighten on the strap of the bag and Sam feels angry.
"Sam, you don't want me here. Never did. It's why you left." Sam feels even more angry at that. His fists clench, his lips thin and his eyes go wide and dark. A classic bitchface to be honest.
"You know that's not true. You know I asked you to come with me. I wanted you to come with me!" He all but shouts, trying to not cry. He can see that Dean feels guilty and fuck if that makes him want to cry some more.
"Sam, look--"
"Don't you dare, Dean," Sam growls before pushing Dean up against the wall, kissing him feverishly, man handling him. He can feel Dean's hands on his face, can feel him being pushed away.
"No," He begs.
"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispers against his neck before opening the door and walking out.
***
Sam walks in the door of his house, shutting it quietly , hoping no one is home so no one can see how red his face is from crying. He makes his way up to the bathroom, washes his face. His eyes look empty, like his heart feels. Sighing, he walks out and bumps into Jess.
"Hey Sam," She smiles, the smile reaching her eyes, which are shining.
"Hey Jess," He replies, smiling a little, trying to appear fine. They stand there for a few minutes awkwardly, like Sam is waiting for Jess to say something. When Sam moves to leave, he hears Jess cough.
"Sam, would you like to go out tonight? Like, on a date?" Sam stops from moving forward. He knows he could love her, a little, nothing like how he loves Dean, but Jess has been trying for so long. He bites his lip before nodding.
"Yeah, sure, how's seven?" Jess grins before nodding her head and skipping off. Sam feels bad, but Dean walked away from Sam and even though Sam's heart is being broken, he has to take the first step somewhere, somehow and even if he doesnt know it yet, he'll be the one taking the steps towards Dean while Dean'll be the one constantly walking away.
Author: jamie_love13
Beta-Edited: By No One
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean Winchester (Yes, that means Incest!!)
Word Count: 2,900-ish.
Rating: R
Genre: Angsty. Don't know?
Spoilers: None, general season 1.
Status: Complete
Summary: Sam gets set up on a date by his roomates, and meets someone he never thought he'd see again.
Disclaimer: Definitely don't own.
Warnings: Sex, lots of it. Handjobs, swearing, incest, sadness
Notes: For a prompt. Look on my prompting post ;) If there are mistakes, blame the fact that I did everything on my iPod. That's fucking dedication, right there, aha.
Day after day it was always the same. Slam the snooze button by throwing the clock across the room, barely missing his window; pull his blanket up over him and try to fall back asleep. However, after twenty minutes, he would be more awake and would throw back his blankets and head toward the shower, nearly bumping into his housemates, Brady and Jess. He'll spend fifteen minutes in the shower --don'tthinkofhimdon'tthinkofhim -- towel dry, walk to his room in said towel, put on some fucking clothes and ignore Jess staring at him through the mirror before slamming his door and rolling his eyes. After getting dressed, he makes his way to the kitchen for some Raisin Bran or Frosted Flakes -- depending. He tries not to think of certain things -- peopleheisnotathing while he's eating but eating the two favorite cereals never helps. He eats in a rush, not bothering to feel the texture of the flake on his tongue or let the taste of the sugar truly reach his taste buds. He ignores Jess and Brady, simply eats his cereal of the day and tries so hard not to think -- though that never goes well because he'll always look up at the clock on the top of the grimy old white stove and see that he's nearly late for his first class and will rush to make it in time -- which he obviously does. He'll go to his seat in the top row, remain inconspicuous and see all the exits plus the people, and go on with his day -- stilldonotthinkofitdon'tdammit--. By five o'clock, he'll be back, drinking a beer, thinking of the two things he tries not to think about ever, regretting his decision. There have only been two times he's ever broken this routine -- the middle of his first year when he finally got a job with cars (he guessed he missed home a little too much) and a year ago, his second year, when he finally gave in and asked a friend how that person was doing. Today, however, today is immediately different and off kilter. Sam wakes up before his alarm clock even goes off and he doesn't bother snoozing it up some more. He goes to take a shower and passes Jess, who's got a smirk so wide. He ignores it, figures she's just full of another idea to her him into bed --bisexual,should'vesaidhewasay -- and who knows, maybe for once he'll relent. Heads to the shower and palms his dick, desperately thinks deanddeanddean, even though he knows it's useless; the one person that means the most is gone. He goes to dress, finds two items of he forgot about, two of his favorite pieces of clothing of Dean's, puts them on and Jesus fucking Christ if his heart speeds up just by the smell of Dean, what would he do if he even saw Dean again? He shakes his head and goes downstairs for some breakfast, thinking Frosted Flakes for today. However, as he gets to the kitchen, he's waylaid by his two roomies. He quirks his brow at them, gestures for them to talk to him cause he's too fucking starved to do otherwise.
"Sam, it's Saturday," that's Jess. She's currently wearing really short shorts, making her legs seem like they run for miles but they don't; a smurfs shirt that rides up, showing just a small amount of underboob. He can't help but stare and think of how much Dean would love her attire, and he sighs, wanting to smack himself for just thinking about it.
"Yeah, okay, so?" Sam replies, a bemused smile on his face. He see's Brady sigh and roll his eyes. Sam remembers the time they fucked -- before they really knew each other, before Brady knew Dean was a brother and not someone who's name you should be moaning when you're with another person. His hair is medium length, needs a trim; his eyes have a silver quality to them, and not for the first time. Sam wonders if Brady's possessed. Thinks christo and nothing happens but then again, you have to say it.
"Sam, when was the last time you got laid?" That was from Jess, who sweeps her long curly blond hair aside. Sam's surprised to realize that he actually has to think about that for a while. He wonders if his last one was Brady, and he flinches, hoping not.
"Exactly, Sammy." He bares his teeth at that, watches how Brady flinches, realizes his mistake. And calling him Sammy is a big one.
"Alright, so what's your point?" He sees them look at one another, give each other a slight smirk before Jess goes into his room. He shouts, doesn't want her in there, but something Brady said has caught him off guard.
"What?"
"We're setting you up on a blind date at a place a little way from here. It's why Jess is picking out your clothes, and why you're going to get laid," Brady grins, the smile just reaching his eyes. Sam wants to say no, wants to say he doesn't need it, but they all know he'd be lying. Truth is, while he misses -- DeandonotsayDean -- he does need to move on because Jesus fucking Christ, it's been nearly three years; and other than a random lay every now and then --BradyJessandadudefromabarwholookedlikeDean -- he really needs to get over his damn brother. They broke up -- Sam'sfaultallSam's -- he walked away when he totally shouldn't have -- abigregret -- and he's probably the only one still doing the missing. He sighs, rubs the palm of his hand into his eyes and bites his lip.
"Fine, but at least let me pick my own clothes." Brady laughs, nods his head. He shouts out at Jess and soon, she comes out of the room with a pout.
***
Sam entered the restaurant with a flutter of nerves rumbling in his stomach. He had gone with a pair of dark washed jeans that he had begrudgingly bought after he arrived to Stanford. The jeans were a little snug in the waist, and Sam wished he bought a size larger like he planned. He was wearing his normal sneakers, the ones that were with him when he did his first hung, kissed his first girl, lost his virginity, realized he was gay, kissed his brother for the first time, and so much more. He had decided to keep those two items of clothing that belonged to Dean on -- a long sleeved black shirt that Sam wore when he wanted to cover up his arms or even remember what it was like to be held down by his brother. Over top of that was a plaid button up that Dean probably missed. Sam didn't care though, cause well fuck, he loved that shirt. He quickly looks around, wondering if the guy he's suppose to meet is here. He was told the guy would be wearing a leather jacket, which wasn't normal during this time of year in California and therefore, perfect for Sam to try and find. He took another glance around the room, a slower, more cautious one. He could see a couple in the far corner looking very cozy, the guys arm around the girl, whispering in her ear, with the girl giggling. Next to that couple was a girl, sitting on the side of the booths, her laptop out on the table. If there was one thing about this restaurant that Sam liked, it was the fact that the place was like a low key Starbucks. Next to the girl was an empty table and beside that was a table with a person wearing a leather jacket. Sam, still hidden from the lighting of the place, couldn't see the guys face very well. From what he could see, the guy was also wearing dark jeans, but paired chunky black boots. He slowly glanced up to the chest, unable to see his hands and god did they look amazing. Sam then looks up to the neck area and immediately freezes. Because while the guys hands are amazing, they keep going to the necklace the guy is wearing. Normally, Sam wouldn't care, would say it was store bought, but he knows thats not the case because he knows there is only one necklace like that. He can feel his heartbeat speed up, his palms begin to sweat. He never expected to see his brother again, not since the ultimatum, or his no to coming with him, and he feels like Dean doesn't know why he's here, but maybe he does because why else would he be here in California. After looking a little more closely, Sam could see that Dean looks exactly the same, but with worry and nerves showing on his face. He bites his lip, looks up and into Sam's eyes immediately, shock marring his features. Obviously, Dean didn't know. Sam sighs, feels the butterflies in his stomach and tries to calm them before he walks to his brother. He walks slowly to the table, his hands in his pockets and his head down, trying very hard not to blush at his choice of clothes. He can see the grin Dean has, And when he finally sits down and looks at his brother, he can't help but look back down. Well fuck, his heart hurts. He bites his lip, finally looks up at his brother and keeps his gaze locked on his. He wants to speak, wants to say everything he never said all those years ago now, but he knows Dean won't hear of it. Because of that, he has no idea where to begin. Instead, he decides to look at Dean's hands but then he imagines the rough pulling, scratching and grabs they use to do and now that's no good.
"Hi Dean," Sam blushes, bites his lips and plays with the forks to keep his hands moving, to keep moving period. Dean looks up at him, has a small smile on his face, so uncharacteristic of him. He wants to say hi but he feels all garbled, like everything won't come out.
"What are you doing here?" He says instead, blushes and looks down. He can never say the right thing with Dean, even when he was young. He hears Dean chuckle and suddenly looks up.
"Why are you so shy, Sammy?" Dean has a shine in his eyes and Sam sighs, shrugging.
"Why are you here Dean, and not on a hunt?"
"I am on a hunt -- I... I just wanted to see you again and I was approached by some guy to go on a blind date and I didn't want to but he was my case so--"
"So you had to?" Sam's hurt by that, and it clearly shows because Dean's backtracking.
"No, Sam, no. I wanted to see you, was going to after this but it's you and you're here. " Dean shrugs, a cocky smile replacing the grin he was holding. Sam nods, and they order their food. It's eaten in mostly silence, with a few random questions.
"How's the school?"
"How's Dad?"
"Been in any hospitals lately?"
"Do you miss me as much as I miss you?" Sam freezes as the question leaves his mouth, wishes he could take it back -- his eyes are wide, his fists clenched and his jaws locked, and yet, he can't look away from Dean. He watches as Dean's features close off, his eyes turn dark and his mouth turns down. He see's Dean reach for his back pocket, ready to grab his wallet and Sam can feel his heartbeat speed up in nerves. He doesn't want Dean to leave, not yet. He looks up, ready to beg for Dean to stay, only to see that he's gone. Looking wildly around, Sam begins to panic until he spots Dean by the door, hand on the knob, body angled towards Sam, a cocky grin on his face.
"You comin' or what, Sammy?"
***
He pushes Dean up against the motel room door, his mouth pressed against his brothers, his tongue begging for entrance. The kiss is fast paced and sloppy, like they've been dehydrated from this for so long, which if Sam had cared to think about it, they have been. He rips Dean's button-up shirt off, buttons flying everywhere. They're making their way to the bed, pants and other articles of clothing flying everywhere. He backs into the bed, flips positions with Dean and pushes him back onto the bed, kissing each other like crazy. Their cocks are hard against one another, precum leaking. Sam stokes Dean's dick fast, hard, hears the groans and moans he's missed for so long. He grabs his brothers balls and squeezes them, feeling the tightness in them.
"God Sam -- Sammy, please." Dean moans, his hips thrusting upwards when Sam gently blows on Dean's cock. He wants to feel it in him, feel like he hasn't felt it in forever. He kisses his way up to Dean's neck, sucks on it for a while. He hears himself begging, asking for permission to be ridden, like he use to when they first started having sex. He can feel Dean straighten himself out as Sam inches himself up on Dean. His head falls back, a moan escaping his mouth as Dean puts his hands on Sam's waist, squeezing as he begins to thrust. Pretty soon, Sam finds himself matching Dean's thrusts, making his breath pant and gasp. He bites his lip, tries not to scream but Dean always brought the best out of him.
"Oh god Dean, fuck yes, please." He stutters, his hips breaking speed as his hand wraps around his dick and starts squeezing and stroking. There's cum shooting out on to his stomach, with Dean's hand coming to wrap around Sam's dick.
"Tell me to stay with you, Sammy." Sam does just that as he feels Dean coming inside of him. Sam keeps going, keeps muttering stay with me, until finally, the two of them fall asleep wrapped around one another, Dean whispering those two words.
***
Sam wakes up to something crashing onto the ground and Dean muttering a few choice curse words. He sits up, watches as Dean puts on his pants, can feel his heart speed up in fear. Deep down, he knows what this means but he doesn't want to believe it. Can't believe it.
"Dean? What are you doing?" He sees Dean stop and look up at him, biting his lip. Sam doesn't like that look, never did, and he starts to put on his own boxers after pushing the blankets off of him.
"I'm going -- leaving." Dean replies, looking down at his shoes.
"But you -- I -- you -- I begged you to stay and you said okay." Sam won't lie, he's confused. He knows Dean wouldn't lie, not about this, so why is he not looking at him?
"I know. But -- I -- shit, I lied!" Sam starts to sweat, can feel it in his bones that Dean's lying -- won't let him get away with it.
"Don't -- don't say that. You're lying." Sam gasps, falling back, his eyes wide with dismay. He can see his brother's grip tighten on the strap of the bag and Sam feels angry.
"Sam, you don't want me here. Never did. It's why you left." Sam feels even more angry at that. His fists clench, his lips thin and his eyes go wide and dark. A classic bitchface to be honest.
"You know that's not true. You know I asked you to come with me. I wanted you to come with me!" He all but shouts, trying to not cry. He can see that Dean feels guilty and fuck if that makes him want to cry some more.
"Sam, look--"
"Don't you dare, Dean," Sam growls before pushing Dean up against the wall, kissing him feverishly, man handling him. He can feel Dean's hands on his face, can feel him being pushed away.
"No," He begs.
"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispers against his neck before opening the door and walking out.
***
Sam walks in the door of his house, shutting it quietly , hoping no one is home so no one can see how red his face is from crying. He makes his way up to the bathroom, washes his face. His eyes look empty, like his heart feels. Sighing, he walks out and bumps into Jess.
"Hey Sam," She smiles, the smile reaching her eyes, which are shining.
"Hey Jess," He replies, smiling a little, trying to appear fine. They stand there for a few minutes awkwardly, like Sam is waiting for Jess to say something. When Sam moves to leave, he hears Jess cough.
"Sam, would you like to go out tonight? Like, on a date?" Sam stops from moving forward. He knows he could love her, a little, nothing like how he loves Dean, but Jess has been trying for so long. He bites his lip before nodding.
"Yeah, sure, how's seven?" Jess grins before nodding her head and skipping off. Sam feels bad, but Dean walked away from Sam and even though Sam's heart is being broken, he has to take the first step somewhere, somehow and even if he doesnt know it yet, he'll be the one taking the steps towards Dean while Dean'll be the one constantly walking away.