Faith, Love, and Sin - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
“Yeah, Jim, gonna drop him off this morning. We should get there about seven I think.” John kept his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping teenager next to him.
“Well, I won’t be around to greet you, I’m afraid. I have an early appointment and some errands I need to run before I leave town, but Dean will be here, probably in his study. Caleb’s been stumped on a hunt and Dean’s sure the answer is in one of those old Latin books.”
“Alright, I’ll drop the kid with him then. Thanks, Jim.” Jim heard John sigh through the phone. “I think he’s a good kid, he’s just…he’s had a real crap lot in life.”
“That’s the case with so many of these boys. You’re bringing him to the right place, John. We can help him; Dean has turned out to be amazing with even the most troubled of them.”
John smiled to himself at the praise for his eldest son, though no one saw it. “Thanks again, Pastor. I owe you.” John hung up his phone and dropped it back into his shirt pocket.
“Pastor?” Sam asked crankily. “Where are you taking me?”
“Thought it didn’t matter?”
“Look, I’m not into joining some creepy religious sect. Just drop me in the next town, I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I don’t think so, son. Your family wants you to go to Pastor Jim, he runs a school for boys.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Son. I’m not your son.” Sam ducked his head as he mumbled out, “Not anyone’s son.”
John felt that one right to his bones. He bit back the words he wanted to say, sure at this point it would do Sam more harm than good to admit to 16 years of lying.
“Sorry, Sam. And I’m not dropping you in some random town. You’re going to this school. It’s the only one left that will take you, and you’re smart enough to know you need a diploma.”
Sam hated to admit John was right, but as much as he didn’t want to go to some school full of zealots, he wanted to start out life as a drop-out even less. “Fine,” he huffed. “Wake me when we get there.”
* * * * *
After downing enough coffee to function, Dean pulled on his jeans and boots to head out to the horse stables to help the boys. Pastor Jim was on his way out of town for the week, so it would be up to Dean to keep things running at the school. It wasn’t the first time he’d left things in Dean’s more-than-capable hands, but the young priest still got a little nervous without the more experienced man as back-up. It probably wasn’t as dangerous as facing down a demon with only his cross, bible and Latin as weapons, but somehow being left alone to manage a dozen teenage boys with well-earned reputations for trouble still sent an equal amount of adrenaline pumping through Father Winchester’s veins.
Dean swallowed the last lukewarm dregs of his coffee and headed up to the main house. It was Trevor and Michael’s day for stable duty, and while Michael had come a long way in his six months at the school, Trevor was still heavily entrenched in the rebellion stage and was almost sure to still be in bed.
It was late October, so the morning air was chilly as he made his way up the gentle slope of the driveway between the church and the school. He found the boys exactly as he’d suspected, Michael dressed and eating a bowl of cereal though his eyes were barely half-way open.
“Morning, Michael. Seen Trevor?”
Michael met his eyes, but didn’t immediately answer. Snitching was among the highest sins in these boys’ eyes, and though Michael was now towing the line, he didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble. Father Winchester watched as the boy weighed his options. In the end, Michael knew Dean would just go look for Trevor himself anyway, so he saw no harm in jutting out his chin to point towards the stairs. It was all the confirmation Dean needed to climb the stairs to rouse the slumbering teen.
Fifteen minutes later the three of them were entering the stables, though Trevor was visibly unhappy about it. In fact, he did nothing but grumble the entire time and fought Father Winchester every step of the way. The three of them did eventually get all the stalls cleaned out and all the horses fed and it actually didn’t take much longer than any other morning.
Dean dismissed the two boys to get themselves cleaned up before class and headed back to his own apartment to do the same. Even when it was cold outside, the heavy labor of mucking the stalls made him sweat and the smell of the manure always clung to him afterwards. Right now nothing sounded better to him than a nice hot shower.
* * * * *
The feeling of the truck slowing and the bumping of gravel under the tires pulled Sam from sleep. He blinked and rubbed fists into his bleary eyes. After throwing a quick glance in John’s direction from under his bangs, Sam looked out the window. The dark of night was blurring into the dull grey of the early morning of what would probably be a cloudy if not rainy day. He guessed it was somewhere around 7am, the time John told whoever it was on the other end of the line that they would arrive.
The truck crunching to a stop in the gravel driveway confirmed his thoughts. He peered through the faint light to assess his new school, which would also be his new home, he supposed. He sighed, at least there would be no family to reject him this time. Sam squinted his eyes, then rubbed them again when he was sure he must be mistaken about what he saw.
“This is a church.”
“Yep,” John answered, curt and without a hint of emotion to give Sam any idea what he was thinking.
“I thought you said you were bringing me to a school?” Sam narrowed stormy hazel eyes at the older man. “I’m a little old to leave on a church doorstep, dontcha think?”
John forced a heavy breath in through his nose before responding; Sam could have no idea how close to the truth of John’s life that statement came. He’d dropped his baby off with family and left his tiny son at this very church so many years ago, but the guilt was still as fresh as if only days had passed.
“The school is here.” John put the truck in park and reached for his door handle. “Get your bag, I’ll walk you in.”
“I can find my own way.” John raised an eyebrow at that. “What? Are you worried I’m going to run off? Where am I going to go? We’re in the middle of freakin’ nowhere for all I can tell. Anyway, I got nowhere else to go.” When John didn’t say anything Sam added, “Trust me.”
John sighed. He wasn’t sure it was such a great idea to trust a kid who had found nothing but trouble for the last two years. On the other hand, he supposed he owed Sam the benefit of the doubt at the very least. And the kid had a point, there really was nowhere for him to run off to. John pulled his door shut again and nodded at Sam.
Sam opened his door, reached into the back for his bag, and then gave John an aborted wave before backing away from the truck. John raised his chin in return before putting the truck into gear and heading back down the driveway. It might be better if Dean didn’t see John at this point anyway. Or maybe it was that John wasn’t ready to deal with the repercussions of his oldest discovering the truth behind the most heinous lie John had ever told.
“What have I done?” John murmured aloud to himself as the church and his youngest son got smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror. He could only hope that they might forgive him some day. If not, at least now they would have each other.
Sam watched the old truck disappear down the driveway and turned around to face the old building. He sighed. Might as well get this over with.
He walked around the side of the church but didn’t see any other buildings and decided the church probably housed the school, or at least an administrative office. He had no desire to go through the big wooden double doors that would surely lead into a sanctuary, but on the side of the building he found a smaller dark wooden door and decided that must be the school entrance. He hoisted his bag up on his shoulder and pushed open the door, expecting to find a waiting room or office behind it.
What he found was what appeared to be a main living area of a very small apartment. The walls were lined with books, there was a stove and small table, a sofa…and a nearly naked man. An incredibly hot man, skin still damp from a shower, wearing only a towel and an expression as stunned as Sam’s must be.
Sam tried to look away, but he just couldn’t make his eyes cooperate. The guy was probably in his early twenties, blonde and fair-skinned, and Sam saw freckles spread over his shoulders and down his firm pecs and gently defined abs. Those same caramel flecks were on his very well-muscled arms. It was the kind of physique that came from physical labor and not from too many hours in a gym. Sam’s gaze wandered back up and got stuck on the tattoo over the man’s left pectoral. A pentagram surrounded by flames seemed an odd choice for someone at a religious school, but the dark ink against the pale skin made Sam’s mouth water. When he managed to tear his eyes away from the amazing body, he found a lightly stubbled jaw, more freckles spattered across his nose, and the most gorgeous, round, green eyes that were staring back at him.
“Um. H-hi. I, uh, I’m Sam,” Sam stuttered out. “I’m here for school. Uh, I’m supposed to start at the school here. Just got dropped off. Sorry, I can…I can go back out if you…”
* * * * *
It wasn’t the first time a new student had mistakenly entered his apartment looking for a main office. The school consisted of a large renovated farm house and it was located behind the even larger barn which housed the horse stables about a quarter mile further up the driveway. The church was the first building people encountered, and the outside door of Dean’s apartment in the basement looked like it might hold the school’s offices.
It was, however, the first time Dean had ever met a new student while wearing only a towel. And although he wasn’t an overly modest man, Father Winchester preferred to greet new students in his collar and black suit. However, this new student, Sam, seemed to be pretty nervous, so Dean didn’t want to turn him out.
“No, that’s alright, you don’t have to go back out, just have a seat on the sofa. I’m going back to the bedroom to get dressed. Then we’ll head up to the school, get your paperwork filled out and I’ll show you around.”
“Thanks,” Sam replied as he perched on the old sofa. He watched as the guy turned and walked the few steps to the bedroom. His back was possibly even sexier than his front; rippling muscles on either side of a perfect dip of a spine, leading down to what was easily the nicest ass Sam had ever seen. His strong legs were gently bowed, and Sam couldn’t help but imagine them spread around him. The man disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door, but it didn’t quite latch and he must not have noticed that it drifted back open about an inch and a half.
It wasn’t enough to give a clear view, but Sam caught glimpses of enough to have him half hard. He pulled his backpack into his lap to hide the bulge, and he thought he probably should feel worse about perving on some strange guy, but he could not look away. Sam had honestly never seen a more beautiful man. The guy bent to step into his pants and Sam got a slivered view of that perfect ass and barely caught himself before he moaned out loud. Maybe this school wouldn’t be all bad.
The freckled man disappeared back behind the door somewhere and Sam heard the sounds of more rustling cloth and metal jingling which he guessed was a belt. He glanced around the room as he waited and realized that every wall in the place was lined with bookshelves and they were all full or nearly full. Hot and smart. Perfect.
Just as Sam’s mind was wandering through some really enjoyable fantasies, the door swung open and there stood the gorgeous guy. Sam blinked as he tried to comprehend the clothing: black pants and suit jacket, black shirt…and a stiff white collar. The beautiful man with the perfect ass was a priest? Sam was so fucked.
“Now that I’m decent, let me introduce myself. I’m Father Winchester. Pastor Jim and I run the school.” Dean extended his hand, but Sam just blinked back dumbly. “You ok?” Dean asked when Sam made no move to let on he’d even heard Dean. “Sam?”
Sam shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He looked down for a moment to collect himself, then shook the hand Father Winchester offered him. “Sorry, I guess I just didn’t realize you were a priest.” Sam let the Father’s hand go then muttered to himself, “Sure don’t look like any priest I’ve ever seen.”
Dean was used to people being surprised about his profession; he was younger than many of his colleagues and he certainly wasn’t the conventional priest, which he guessed carried over into his general demeanor. He chuckled at Sam’s reaction and then flashed him a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about it. Hard to tell a guy’s occupation when you meet him in a towel.”
Sam flushed a bit at the reminder of the Father’s former state of undress, but returned his smile and a nervous laugh of his own.
“Well, let’s go get you set up,” Dean said cheerfully and headed outside.
“Sure.” Sam let Father Winchester lead the way, and it turned out that ass looked just as good in the black pants as it had in the towel. In fact, the whole get-up only seemed to enhance the Father’s good looks and Sam let his duffle bag fall in front of him to camouflage just how much he was enjoying the view.
Father Winchester was mildly and pleasantly surprised by Sam’s demeanor. He’d seen more than his share of these teen boys give more than just a nasty attitude when they’d been dropped off and left under the care of the school. He’d lost count of the names he’s been called amid other insults to his manhood, his mother and anything else they could come up with. He let most of it go without much notice, though occasionally he was impressed with the creativity of some. Dean held no illusions about his newest charge being an angel either. He had witnessed in other boys this politeness that soon washed away as they got settled into their new environment and realized exactly how much discipline was expected of them. Dean had been warned just how many different families Sam had worn out with all variety of misbehavior.
They reached the house and Dean showed Sam the kitchen, explained the chores that were expected of the boys as well as the system used to divide them equally. He pointed out the bathroom, the study, the TV room to be used only when all chores and homework were done and then led him up the staircase to the second floor which held all the bedrooms.
Sam listened as Father Winchester showed him around the old farmhouse, and managed to hold his number of eye-rolls in the single digits despite all the talk of chores and expectations and discipline. He’d heard this same spiel with every new home he’d been to, although hearing it come out of those plump lips made it somewhat more interesting. Sam let the Father lead him up the staircase, his hazel eyes never leaving the flexing muscles of the older man’s buttocks.
The space upstairs consisted of a long corridor that passed by many rooms. Sam listened to the explanation that most of these were bedrooms and that they were shared by two or three boys each. The full capacity of the house was 15 boys, but currently, counting Sam there would be 13. The Father pointed out the three bathrooms that would be shared as well, and explained the shower schedule, finishing by stating that if Sam did not get up in time for his turn, he would not get a shower, and would have an extra chore added to his list for the week. This earned both an eye-roll and a raised eyebrow, though his expression neutralized when Father Winchester turned around to face him.
Dean didn’t miss the eye-rolling and other expressions of exasperation that flittered across the young man’s face as the rules were laid out for him. He was used to this, had seen it every time he showed a new kid around, but something was different with Sam. Father Winchester felt an inexplicable need to protect the young man, it was as if there was some invisible thread binding them together already. Dean tried to shake it off. He knew how insane it sounded, but still, something was drawing him to this boy. He was even more determined than usual to save this kid’s soul and help bring him back onto the right path for his life.
Dean turned around to find tilted hazel eyes focused low, and he was helpless to stop the flush that colored his cheeks as he realized where the boy’s gaze had been directed. Sam’s eyes dragged slowly up his body to his face and Father Winchester was met with a crooked grin. He raised an eyebrow to which Sam only shrugged, letting his eyes skim back down the young priest’s physique, before the boy turned slowly around and sauntered down the hall.
Dean realized he was watching Sam walk away, and the sight of the lean muscles working under his well-fitted jeans and t-shirt, coupled with the lingering caress of Sam’s gaze had stirred something in his blood. Before he could fully put a name to those feelings, Dean pushed them down deep and ignored them.
“So, which room is mine?” Sam asked from halfway down the hallway.
“Second door on the left.” Sam nodded and rapped his knuckles on the door before pushing it open. “You can leave your bags on your bed and we’ll go downstairs to finish your paper work.”
Sam opened the bedroom door to find one single bed and a bunk bed. There was a snoring person-shaped lump in the single bed, so he dropped his bags on the bottom bed of the bunk. He took a second to gather himself with the first moments out of Father Winchester’s rather distracting presence. He couldn’t quite decide how to feel about his situation. Graduating high school was a necessity, and this place was most likely his last chance. He should have seen this coming, really, but when John had said he was bringing Sam to a school, he had pictured more of a boarding school, and not this small home-like facility. Father Winchester was an unexpected and pleasant surprise; he didn’t look like any priest Sam had ever known, although the blathering on about rules felt very priest-like. Maybe the guy just needed to loosen up a little, and Sam could think of plenty of techniques he wanted to use on the Father to loosen him up. A wicked grin curled his lips as he left the room to join Father Winchester for his paperwork.
* * * * *
Father Winchester sat behind the desk, grateful for the cover it provided as it seemed that Samuel Campbell’s chosen method of defiance was to attempt to rouse the most inappropriate of responses. The teen sat slouched back in his chair, legs relaxed and falling wide open. His eyes were half lidded, but still somehow sparkling with a mischievous glint which left no mystery about his intentions. Between his answers to Father Winchester’s questions, he alternately ran his tongue slowly over pink lips and caught the bottom one between his white teeth.
Dean had managed to get through most of the admission forms and was down to the honor code. Sam smirked and snickered about nearly every clause, and Dean knew what the last one was and he could only imagine the young man’s reaction.
“Finally, while you are here, we ask that you remain pure of body.” Father Winchester paused to take a deep breath as Sam’s face morphed into a look of mocking disbelief. Dean rushed on, “So, there will be no drugs, alcohol or smoking. And no sexually inappropriate behavior.”
“You mean to tell me no one here drinks? Ever?”
“They do not.”
“No smoking?”
“None,” Dean said levelly.
“And no one gets off?” Sam’s voice had lowered and he looked right into Father Winchester’s green eyes as he asked the question. “At all?”
Dean swallowed the lump in his suddenly dry throat as a hundred highly inappropriate images of the young man in front of him flew through his brain. He had to break eye contact to continue, “Well…we allow...you to….” Dean trailed off trying to force the tremor from his voice. “You may engage in masturbation if you must have an outlet for your…frustrations. But there are no overnight guests, and absolutely no fraternizing between the students.” Dean managed to steady his voice and put command into the last sentence, but his heart sped again when he saw the look on Sam’s face. The hazel eyes and slick pink lips had turned almost predatory and Father Winchester was sure he did not want to answer whatever question Sam was about to pose.
“How about between students and teachers, Father?” Sam asked, somehow managing to make Dean’s title the most dirty sounding of the words that came out of his smirking lips.
Father Winchester’s quickened breathing may have given him away, but his voice held firm. “Absolutely not. Never.”
Sam leaned forward in his chair, his long frame angling over Dean’s desk. “If you say so, Father Winchester.”
The thunderous sounds of twelve teenage boys clamoring down the stairs at the same time broke the spell of the heavy atmosphere between them. “It’s time for class. Join the rest of the boys; I will see you in the classroom, Samuel.”
“You sure will, Father,” Sam said with a wink before turning and sauntering out of the office. Dean took a moment to steel himself with a few deep breaths before heading out to teach. He hoped Pastor Jim returned sooner rather than later; it seemed their newest charge was going to be a handful and Dean could use the more experienced man’s help.
Chapter 3
“Yeah, Jim, gonna drop him off this morning. We should get there about seven I think.” John kept his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping teenager next to him.
“Well, I won’t be around to greet you, I’m afraid. I have an early appointment and some errands I need to run before I leave town, but Dean will be here, probably in his study. Caleb’s been stumped on a hunt and Dean’s sure the answer is in one of those old Latin books.”
“Alright, I’ll drop the kid with him then. Thanks, Jim.” Jim heard John sigh through the phone. “I think he’s a good kid, he’s just…he’s had a real crap lot in life.”
“That’s the case with so many of these boys. You’re bringing him to the right place, John. We can help him; Dean has turned out to be amazing with even the most troubled of them.”
John smiled to himself at the praise for his eldest son, though no one saw it. “Thanks again, Pastor. I owe you.” John hung up his phone and dropped it back into his shirt pocket.
“Pastor?” Sam asked crankily. “Where are you taking me?”
“Thought it didn’t matter?”
“Look, I’m not into joining some creepy religious sect. Just drop me in the next town, I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I don’t think so, son. Your family wants you to go to Pastor Jim, he runs a school for boys.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Son. I’m not your son.” Sam ducked his head as he mumbled out, “Not anyone’s son.”
John felt that one right to his bones. He bit back the words he wanted to say, sure at this point it would do Sam more harm than good to admit to 16 years of lying.
“Sorry, Sam. And I’m not dropping you in some random town. You’re going to this school. It’s the only one left that will take you, and you’re smart enough to know you need a diploma.”
Sam hated to admit John was right, but as much as he didn’t want to go to some school full of zealots, he wanted to start out life as a drop-out even less. “Fine,” he huffed. “Wake me when we get there.”
* * * * *
After downing enough coffee to function, Dean pulled on his jeans and boots to head out to the horse stables to help the boys. Pastor Jim was on his way out of town for the week, so it would be up to Dean to keep things running at the school. It wasn’t the first time he’d left things in Dean’s more-than-capable hands, but the young priest still got a little nervous without the more experienced man as back-up. It probably wasn’t as dangerous as facing down a demon with only his cross, bible and Latin as weapons, but somehow being left alone to manage a dozen teenage boys with well-earned reputations for trouble still sent an equal amount of adrenaline pumping through Father Winchester’s veins.
Dean swallowed the last lukewarm dregs of his coffee and headed up to the main house. It was Trevor and Michael’s day for stable duty, and while Michael had come a long way in his six months at the school, Trevor was still heavily entrenched in the rebellion stage and was almost sure to still be in bed.
It was late October, so the morning air was chilly as he made his way up the gentle slope of the driveway between the church and the school. He found the boys exactly as he’d suspected, Michael dressed and eating a bowl of cereal though his eyes were barely half-way open.
“Morning, Michael. Seen Trevor?”
Michael met his eyes, but didn’t immediately answer. Snitching was among the highest sins in these boys’ eyes, and though Michael was now towing the line, he didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble. Father Winchester watched as the boy weighed his options. In the end, Michael knew Dean would just go look for Trevor himself anyway, so he saw no harm in jutting out his chin to point towards the stairs. It was all the confirmation Dean needed to climb the stairs to rouse the slumbering teen.
Fifteen minutes later the three of them were entering the stables, though Trevor was visibly unhappy about it. In fact, he did nothing but grumble the entire time and fought Father Winchester every step of the way. The three of them did eventually get all the stalls cleaned out and all the horses fed and it actually didn’t take much longer than any other morning.
Dean dismissed the two boys to get themselves cleaned up before class and headed back to his own apartment to do the same. Even when it was cold outside, the heavy labor of mucking the stalls made him sweat and the smell of the manure always clung to him afterwards. Right now nothing sounded better to him than a nice hot shower.
* * * * *
The feeling of the truck slowing and the bumping of gravel under the tires pulled Sam from sleep. He blinked and rubbed fists into his bleary eyes. After throwing a quick glance in John’s direction from under his bangs, Sam looked out the window. The dark of night was blurring into the dull grey of the early morning of what would probably be a cloudy if not rainy day. He guessed it was somewhere around 7am, the time John told whoever it was on the other end of the line that they would arrive.
The truck crunching to a stop in the gravel driveway confirmed his thoughts. He peered through the faint light to assess his new school, which would also be his new home, he supposed. He sighed, at least there would be no family to reject him this time. Sam squinted his eyes, then rubbed them again when he was sure he must be mistaken about what he saw.
“This is a church.”
“Yep,” John answered, curt and without a hint of emotion to give Sam any idea what he was thinking.
“I thought you said you were bringing me to a school?” Sam narrowed stormy hazel eyes at the older man. “I’m a little old to leave on a church doorstep, dontcha think?”
John forced a heavy breath in through his nose before responding; Sam could have no idea how close to the truth of John’s life that statement came. He’d dropped his baby off with family and left his tiny son at this very church so many years ago, but the guilt was still as fresh as if only days had passed.
“The school is here.” John put the truck in park and reached for his door handle. “Get your bag, I’ll walk you in.”
“I can find my own way.” John raised an eyebrow at that. “What? Are you worried I’m going to run off? Where am I going to go? We’re in the middle of freakin’ nowhere for all I can tell. Anyway, I got nowhere else to go.” When John didn’t say anything Sam added, “Trust me.”
John sighed. He wasn’t sure it was such a great idea to trust a kid who had found nothing but trouble for the last two years. On the other hand, he supposed he owed Sam the benefit of the doubt at the very least. And the kid had a point, there really was nowhere for him to run off to. John pulled his door shut again and nodded at Sam.
Sam opened his door, reached into the back for his bag, and then gave John an aborted wave before backing away from the truck. John raised his chin in return before putting the truck into gear and heading back down the driveway. It might be better if Dean didn’t see John at this point anyway. Or maybe it was that John wasn’t ready to deal with the repercussions of his oldest discovering the truth behind the most heinous lie John had ever told.
“What have I done?” John murmured aloud to himself as the church and his youngest son got smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror. He could only hope that they might forgive him some day. If not, at least now they would have each other.
Sam watched the old truck disappear down the driveway and turned around to face the old building. He sighed. Might as well get this over with.
He walked around the side of the church but didn’t see any other buildings and decided the church probably housed the school, or at least an administrative office. He had no desire to go through the big wooden double doors that would surely lead into a sanctuary, but on the side of the building he found a smaller dark wooden door and decided that must be the school entrance. He hoisted his bag up on his shoulder and pushed open the door, expecting to find a waiting room or office behind it.
What he found was what appeared to be a main living area of a very small apartment. The walls were lined with books, there was a stove and small table, a sofa…and a nearly naked man. An incredibly hot man, skin still damp from a shower, wearing only a towel and an expression as stunned as Sam’s must be.
Sam tried to look away, but he just couldn’t make his eyes cooperate. The guy was probably in his early twenties, blonde and fair-skinned, and Sam saw freckles spread over his shoulders and down his firm pecs and gently defined abs. Those same caramel flecks were on his very well-muscled arms. It was the kind of physique that came from physical labor and not from too many hours in a gym. Sam’s gaze wandered back up and got stuck on the tattoo over the man’s left pectoral. A pentagram surrounded by flames seemed an odd choice for someone at a religious school, but the dark ink against the pale skin made Sam’s mouth water. When he managed to tear his eyes away from the amazing body, he found a lightly stubbled jaw, more freckles spattered across his nose, and the most gorgeous, round, green eyes that were staring back at him.
“Um. H-hi. I, uh, I’m Sam,” Sam stuttered out. “I’m here for school. Uh, I’m supposed to start at the school here. Just got dropped off. Sorry, I can…I can go back out if you…”
* * * * *
It wasn’t the first time a new student had mistakenly entered his apartment looking for a main office. The school consisted of a large renovated farm house and it was located behind the even larger barn which housed the horse stables about a quarter mile further up the driveway. The church was the first building people encountered, and the outside door of Dean’s apartment in the basement looked like it might hold the school’s offices.
It was, however, the first time Dean had ever met a new student while wearing only a towel. And although he wasn’t an overly modest man, Father Winchester preferred to greet new students in his collar and black suit. However, this new student, Sam, seemed to be pretty nervous, so Dean didn’t want to turn him out.
“No, that’s alright, you don’t have to go back out, just have a seat on the sofa. I’m going back to the bedroom to get dressed. Then we’ll head up to the school, get your paperwork filled out and I’ll show you around.”
“Thanks,” Sam replied as he perched on the old sofa. He watched as the guy turned and walked the few steps to the bedroom. His back was possibly even sexier than his front; rippling muscles on either side of a perfect dip of a spine, leading down to what was easily the nicest ass Sam had ever seen. His strong legs were gently bowed, and Sam couldn’t help but imagine them spread around him. The man disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door, but it didn’t quite latch and he must not have noticed that it drifted back open about an inch and a half.
It wasn’t enough to give a clear view, but Sam caught glimpses of enough to have him half hard. He pulled his backpack into his lap to hide the bulge, and he thought he probably should feel worse about perving on some strange guy, but he could not look away. Sam had honestly never seen a more beautiful man. The guy bent to step into his pants and Sam got a slivered view of that perfect ass and barely caught himself before he moaned out loud. Maybe this school wouldn’t be all bad.
The freckled man disappeared back behind the door somewhere and Sam heard the sounds of more rustling cloth and metal jingling which he guessed was a belt. He glanced around the room as he waited and realized that every wall in the place was lined with bookshelves and they were all full or nearly full. Hot and smart. Perfect.
Just as Sam’s mind was wandering through some really enjoyable fantasies, the door swung open and there stood the gorgeous guy. Sam blinked as he tried to comprehend the clothing: black pants and suit jacket, black shirt…and a stiff white collar. The beautiful man with the perfect ass was a priest? Sam was so fucked.
“Now that I’m decent, let me introduce myself. I’m Father Winchester. Pastor Jim and I run the school.” Dean extended his hand, but Sam just blinked back dumbly. “You ok?” Dean asked when Sam made no move to let on he’d even heard Dean. “Sam?”
Sam shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He looked down for a moment to collect himself, then shook the hand Father Winchester offered him. “Sorry, I guess I just didn’t realize you were a priest.” Sam let the Father’s hand go then muttered to himself, “Sure don’t look like any priest I’ve ever seen.”
Dean was used to people being surprised about his profession; he was younger than many of his colleagues and he certainly wasn’t the conventional priest, which he guessed carried over into his general demeanor. He chuckled at Sam’s reaction and then flashed him a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about it. Hard to tell a guy’s occupation when you meet him in a towel.”
Sam flushed a bit at the reminder of the Father’s former state of undress, but returned his smile and a nervous laugh of his own.
“Well, let’s go get you set up,” Dean said cheerfully and headed outside.
“Sure.” Sam let Father Winchester lead the way, and it turned out that ass looked just as good in the black pants as it had in the towel. In fact, the whole get-up only seemed to enhance the Father’s good looks and Sam let his duffle bag fall in front of him to camouflage just how much he was enjoying the view.
Father Winchester was mildly and pleasantly surprised by Sam’s demeanor. He’d seen more than his share of these teen boys give more than just a nasty attitude when they’d been dropped off and left under the care of the school. He’d lost count of the names he’s been called amid other insults to his manhood, his mother and anything else they could come up with. He let most of it go without much notice, though occasionally he was impressed with the creativity of some. Dean held no illusions about his newest charge being an angel either. He had witnessed in other boys this politeness that soon washed away as they got settled into their new environment and realized exactly how much discipline was expected of them. Dean had been warned just how many different families Sam had worn out with all variety of misbehavior.
They reached the house and Dean showed Sam the kitchen, explained the chores that were expected of the boys as well as the system used to divide them equally. He pointed out the bathroom, the study, the TV room to be used only when all chores and homework were done and then led him up the staircase to the second floor which held all the bedrooms.
Sam listened as Father Winchester showed him around the old farmhouse, and managed to hold his number of eye-rolls in the single digits despite all the talk of chores and expectations and discipline. He’d heard this same spiel with every new home he’d been to, although hearing it come out of those plump lips made it somewhat more interesting. Sam let the Father lead him up the staircase, his hazel eyes never leaving the flexing muscles of the older man’s buttocks.
The space upstairs consisted of a long corridor that passed by many rooms. Sam listened to the explanation that most of these were bedrooms and that they were shared by two or three boys each. The full capacity of the house was 15 boys, but currently, counting Sam there would be 13. The Father pointed out the three bathrooms that would be shared as well, and explained the shower schedule, finishing by stating that if Sam did not get up in time for his turn, he would not get a shower, and would have an extra chore added to his list for the week. This earned both an eye-roll and a raised eyebrow, though his expression neutralized when Father Winchester turned around to face him.
Dean didn’t miss the eye-rolling and other expressions of exasperation that flittered across the young man’s face as the rules were laid out for him. He was used to this, had seen it every time he showed a new kid around, but something was different with Sam. Father Winchester felt an inexplicable need to protect the young man, it was as if there was some invisible thread binding them together already. Dean tried to shake it off. He knew how insane it sounded, but still, something was drawing him to this boy. He was even more determined than usual to save this kid’s soul and help bring him back onto the right path for his life.
Dean turned around to find tilted hazel eyes focused low, and he was helpless to stop the flush that colored his cheeks as he realized where the boy’s gaze had been directed. Sam’s eyes dragged slowly up his body to his face and Father Winchester was met with a crooked grin. He raised an eyebrow to which Sam only shrugged, letting his eyes skim back down the young priest’s physique, before the boy turned slowly around and sauntered down the hall.
Dean realized he was watching Sam walk away, and the sight of the lean muscles working under his well-fitted jeans and t-shirt, coupled with the lingering caress of Sam’s gaze had stirred something in his blood. Before he could fully put a name to those feelings, Dean pushed them down deep and ignored them.
“So, which room is mine?” Sam asked from halfway down the hallway.
“Second door on the left.” Sam nodded and rapped his knuckles on the door before pushing it open. “You can leave your bags on your bed and we’ll go downstairs to finish your paper work.”
Sam opened the bedroom door to find one single bed and a bunk bed. There was a snoring person-shaped lump in the single bed, so he dropped his bags on the bottom bed of the bunk. He took a second to gather himself with the first moments out of Father Winchester’s rather distracting presence. He couldn’t quite decide how to feel about his situation. Graduating high school was a necessity, and this place was most likely his last chance. He should have seen this coming, really, but when John had said he was bringing Sam to a school, he had pictured more of a boarding school, and not this small home-like facility. Father Winchester was an unexpected and pleasant surprise; he didn’t look like any priest Sam had ever known, although the blathering on about rules felt very priest-like. Maybe the guy just needed to loosen up a little, and Sam could think of plenty of techniques he wanted to use on the Father to loosen him up. A wicked grin curled his lips as he left the room to join Father Winchester for his paperwork.
* * * * *
Father Winchester sat behind the desk, grateful for the cover it provided as it seemed that Samuel Campbell’s chosen method of defiance was to attempt to rouse the most inappropriate of responses. The teen sat slouched back in his chair, legs relaxed and falling wide open. His eyes were half lidded, but still somehow sparkling with a mischievous glint which left no mystery about his intentions. Between his answers to Father Winchester’s questions, he alternately ran his tongue slowly over pink lips and caught the bottom one between his white teeth.
Dean had managed to get through most of the admission forms and was down to the honor code. Sam smirked and snickered about nearly every clause, and Dean knew what the last one was and he could only imagine the young man’s reaction.
“Finally, while you are here, we ask that you remain pure of body.” Father Winchester paused to take a deep breath as Sam’s face morphed into a look of mocking disbelief. Dean rushed on, “So, there will be no drugs, alcohol or smoking. And no sexually inappropriate behavior.”
“You mean to tell me no one here drinks? Ever?”
“They do not.”
“No smoking?”
“None,” Dean said levelly.
“And no one gets off?” Sam’s voice had lowered and he looked right into Father Winchester’s green eyes as he asked the question. “At all?”
Dean swallowed the lump in his suddenly dry throat as a hundred highly inappropriate images of the young man in front of him flew through his brain. He had to break eye contact to continue, “Well…we allow...you to….” Dean trailed off trying to force the tremor from his voice. “You may engage in masturbation if you must have an outlet for your…frustrations. But there are no overnight guests, and absolutely no fraternizing between the students.” Dean managed to steady his voice and put command into the last sentence, but his heart sped again when he saw the look on Sam’s face. The hazel eyes and slick pink lips had turned almost predatory and Father Winchester was sure he did not want to answer whatever question Sam was about to pose.
“How about between students and teachers, Father?” Sam asked, somehow managing to make Dean’s title the most dirty sounding of the words that came out of his smirking lips.
Father Winchester’s quickened breathing may have given him away, but his voice held firm. “Absolutely not. Never.”
Sam leaned forward in his chair, his long frame angling over Dean’s desk. “If you say so, Father Winchester.”
The thunderous sounds of twelve teenage boys clamoring down the stairs at the same time broke the spell of the heavy atmosphere between them. “It’s time for class. Join the rest of the boys; I will see you in the classroom, Samuel.”
“You sure will, Father,” Sam said with a wink before turning and sauntering out of the office. Dean took a moment to steel himself with a few deep breaths before heading out to teach. He hoped Pastor Jim returned sooner rather than later; it seemed their newest charge was going to be a handful and Dean could use the more experienced man’s help.
Chapter 3