Faith, Love, and Sin - Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“Rise and shine, Sam!” Lanie, Sam’s primary physical therapist, was always just a touch more cheerful than the teen thought was healthy. Lately her pep bordered on psychotic. Sam groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. He’d tried, and it wasn’t that he didn’t care about getting better, but it was so much harder than he’d thought it would be.
Sam was three weeks into rehab, and his motivation had dwindled little by little, until for the last four days, Lanie had been forced to use more and more insistent wake up calls. This time she crossed the room and pulled the pillow off his face.
“Come on, sugar, our appointment was for 8, and it’s nearly half past, so we gotta get a move on.” Sam rolled over to face away from her again. He liked her, he really did. He just didn’t have it in him this morning. He was tired. He heard a heavy sigh behind him, then the sounds of a chair being dragged across the floor. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder just before he heard her voice again, tone gentle this time. “Ok, forget the exercises this morning. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Sam scrunched his eyelids tighter shut to resist rolling them. He would rather jump out of bed and do twice the exercises than talk.
“He’ll call today. He always does, you know that.” Lanie said, the hand on his shoulder giving a squeeze. She was talking about Dean, and she was right. He’d called Sam every single day since he’d dropped him off, but he hadn’t laid eyes on his brother in 20 days. This time he rolled his eyes at himself.
Dean had spoken to Pastor Jim the day after making Sam the promise that he would go to rehab with him. Pastor Jim agreed that the school would get along just fine without the young priest for a couple of months and that it would be good for Sam if Dean accompanied him. Dean had returned to the school to pack them each a suitcase, and the following day when Sam was released from the hospital, Dean drove them the four hours north. Three hours into the trip, Dean received a phone call and Sam had known immediately from the tension in his brother’s jaw that something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked as soon as Dean put his phone down.
“Pastor Jim’s had an emergency, Sam. He needs me to come back and look after the school.”
“Oh.” The small word was all Sam could manage through his tight throat.
“I’m sorry, Sam. It’s just for a few days, maybe a week. Then I’ll come right back up here with you.” When Sam didn’t say anything Dean added, “I promise.”
The week had stretched into two and now three. Dean called Sam every day, and every day he apologized, explaining that Jim had gotten held up and that he was waiting to hear back from the other men who might be able to help at the school. Dean sounded as pained as Sam felt about being separated, and though Sam knew in his head that his brother wanted to be with him, he couldn’t stop the familiar rush of dark emotions that always came with being left somewhere new on his own.
At first Sam had been determined to do well; he wanted to impress his brother when he returned. But every day he struggled a little more as the doubts swirled through him. The internal battle of convincing himself that Dean wouldn’t abandon him took its toll, and today was the day he was no longer interested in crawling out of the murky pit.
Sam shrugged Lanie’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m calling out sick today,” he grumbled, hoping she’d give up even though he knew her tenacity was limitless.
“You’re injured, not sick…and there’s no calling out of your physical therapy.”
“Well, call it whatever you want. I’m not doin’ that shit today.” There, if the attitude itself was not enough, throwing a curse out should take the perk out of her.
Lanie sighed and pushed up out of the chair. “Fine, Samuel. I will mark that you refused your morning session. I’ll see you at 1:30. No excuses.” She left before he could argue.
* * * * *
Father Winchester paced his apartment, racking his brain yet again. He’d just gotten off the phone with Pastor Jim, who was going to be stuck on his hunt for another week at least. Dean tossed his phone across the room into the couch. He had promised Sam, promised him, that he would be there in a week. Instead it was going to be over a month. There had to be someone, anyone who could sit at the school for a week or two. There were only 4 boys left and with no classes currently in session, it would be an easy job.
Dean’s ringtone sounded from the cushions across the room and he went to pick it up. The caller ID displayed the name of Sam’s rehab facility; he quickly hit the button to accept the call.
“Father Winchester? This is Dr. Wilson. I oversee the physical therapy program that Samuel Campbell is enrolled in.”
“Is Sam ok? What happened?” There was an edge of panic in Dean’s voice. He still hadn’t recovered from the guilt of being gone when Sam fell; he would never forgive himself if something else had happened to his brother while he wasn’t there.
“Nothing has happened, Father. Sam is not hurt.”
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I hope so. I’m sure you understand the extent of your brother’s injuries? And the importance of his full involvement in his physical therapy?”
“Yes, of course. The only way he’ll walk normally again is if he keeps up all his hard work. I don’t understand, you’re making it sound like Sam’s slacking off, but he was doing so well.”
“He was. At first. When Sam came to us he was in peak condition, and he was totally committed.” The doctor took a breath. “But, over the last few weeks, Sam has changed.”
“Changed?”
“His energy has declined steadily; he hasn’t been putting in the same effort. Today he completely refused PT. Father Winchester, I’m afraid if Sam doesn’t turn things around quickly he’ll lose any progress he has made. And if he continues to refuse therapy sessions, we’ll have to discharge him from the program.”
“Discharge him? No, you can’t do that. Sammy needs this therapy, and your facility is his best hope. What’s going on with him?” Dean asked. “There has to be something we can do to get him back on track.”
“I’m not sure why, but Sam just appears to have completely lost motivation. Maybe you can try talking to him. Your opinion seems to mean a lot to him.”
Dean breathed out. “Of course I’ll talk to him. Just please, don’t kick him out just yet.”
“We’ll give Sam a chance. He seems like a good kid under the teenage attitude; we really want to see him do well. Talk to him. See what you can do. I’ll check in with you again in a few days.”
Dean hung up his phone and stared at it in his palm. The image of Sam, alone and depressed, refusing his treatment, cut deep into his core, and guilt at being the one to trigger another bout of abandonment issues burned under his skin. He flicked through his phone to the contact list. This was no longer a choice; Sam needed him.
The phone only rang once before the man on the other end picked up.
“Dad? I need your help.”
John didn’t miss a beat. “Of course, son. Anything you need.”
“Pastor Jim is stuck on a job, and Sam needs my help, but someone needs to be here at the school for the boys who didn’t go home for the summer.”
“Dean…I don’t know how good I’d be with a bunch of teen-“
“Caleb can come to the school, he’s filled in before. But he is finishing off a hunt…I need you to finish his hunt so he can come here.”
“Just tell me where he is and I’ll be on my way there.”
Dean’s head fell back as relief flooded his system. “Thanks, Dad.” Dean gave John the coordinates and made the call to Caleb as he packed his duffel bag. By nightfall Caleb was bunked in one of the empty rooms in the farmhouse and Dean was in the Impala on his way to Sam.
* * * * *
“I know!” Sam didn’t mean to raise his voice, but really, he’d done this exercise about a thousand times and Lanie knew he knew how to do it. Her legs hadn’t been shattered, she didn’t get how hard this was and he was just about done with the stupid happy smile she always flashed at him as she asked him to go through the most excruciating activities.
“Alright, Sam. One more step to the wheelchair, then I’ll let you off the hook for the night.”
Sam scowled at her as he completed that step and then flopped down into the chair.
“Good enough. You can go back to your room. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. And we’re adding another session tomorrow to make up for skipping this morning.”
Sam wheeled out of the room without answering. When he got back to his room, he grabbed his crutches and levered himself out of his chair and over to his bed. He dropped onto his bed and fought to catch his breath. He was so tired of this. He pushed back against the headboard and his gaze fell on the nightstand to the copy of the Knights of the Round Table Dean had left with him. Tears stung the back of his eyes and he swiped his hand over the table sending the book and everything else there flying across the room.
“Rough day?”
Sam’s head snapped to the doorway. “Dean?” He hadn’t realized how much he missed his brother until those bow legs were carrying Dean into the room to him and Sam could not stop the grin that took over his entire face.
Dean kicked the door shut and crossed the room in two steps as he watched Sam’s face light up. The crushing weight Dean had felt since the day he’d had to drive away and leave Sam behind alone lifted from his chest at the sight of those dimples. As soon as Dean reached the bed, he pulled Sam into a hug, and as he breathed in the scent of his brother, he knew he couldn’t be separated from Sam again.
Sam pulled back from the hug just enough to look into Dean’s eyes, and his hand came up to cup his brother’s face. Their lips were inches apart and Sam wanted so badly to kiss Dean, but he still wasn’t sure where the young priest’s head was with this thing between them, and he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance they seem to have found. “I can’t believe you’re here.” Sam whispered, running his thumb over Dean’s stubbled cheek. “I missed you. So much.”
Father Winchester’s hands moved over Sam’s back, and then up into the hair over his collar. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Shoulda been here sooner, I-“ Sam could not hold himself back anymore. He leaned forward those inches and brought their lips together. Dean tensed for only a fraction of a second before he relaxed into Sam’s touch.
“Missed you too.” Dean said as he drew back from the kiss. “I tried to get here sooner, Sam, I really did.”
“I don’t care, Dean. I’m just glad you’re here now.” Sam wrapped his hands around Dean’s. “Did Pastor Jim come back?”
Dean shook his head. “No, he’s still dealing with his emergency.”
Sam frowned in confusion. “Who’s at the school then? And why did you come now?”
“Caleb’s at the school. Dr. Wilson called me, Sam. He told me you weren’t doing very well, they’re worried about you…I called Dad, he went to help with Caleb’s job so Caleb could watch the school.”
Sam raised an eyebrow to that. “You called John?”
Dean nodded. “It’s just for a week or so, and then Jim will be back.” When Sam’s look didn’t change Dean rushed on. “I just couldn’t leave you alone any longer, Sammy. Shouldn’t have in the first place.” Dean pushed a hand into Sam’s hair, stroking the chestnut strands between his fingers.
“I know you couldn’t help it, but I hated you being away.”
Dean smiled at him. “I was always coming back.” Dean ran a thumb over Sam’s cheek, then dropped his hand back to the bed between them. “So, what’s happened with therapy, Sam?”
Sam looked down to the hands that were still entwined between them. “I-I don’t know…at first it was fine. Then…I just…I didn’t care anymore. And it hurts sometimes. And it’s really hard.” He looked up into Dean’s green eyes, a smirk spreading across his face. “Plus they start so early.”
Dean laughed as he shook his head. “Well, no more slacking; you worked too hard in the hospital to get here. We are gonna get you walking again.”
Sam nodded. “Okay.”
“I got a hotel room down the block. I’ll be here every day.”
Sam’s hazel eyes held the glimmer of tears as he thanked Father Winchester.
* * * * *
Dean held true to his word. He appeared in Sam’s doorway every morning, and every morning Sam lit up as soon as he set eyes on his brother. Sam quickly made up the progress he’d lost during his depression, and soon he was making even bigger steps forward.
Things seemed to change between the two young men as well. Dean had packed quickly and most of the clothes he’d brought with him were casual. Being out of uniform and away from the school and church, the pressures of his roles felt small and far away. His guard slipped, and the budding feelings he had for Sam occupied more and more of his heart. One by one Dean’s reasons for not being with Sam faded from his mind. The priest felt himself being irresistibly drawn closer and closer to the young man.
Sam flourished under the attentions of his older brother. He was soon walking with the crutches more often than using the wheelchair and as the weeks went on he began working with a cane. It felt good to walk upright towards Dean and look into his beautiful green eyes.
The change in Dean’s demeanor didn’t escape Sam’s notice either. He watched as his brother relaxed and there was no more discussion of boundaries. Though Dean wasn’t making any more moves towards anything sexual, he seemed less and less inclined to disguise the looks of longing and desire towards Sam. Sam didn’t push, just allowed hints that he was still more than willing to advance their physical relationship; sending looks at his brother that were just a bit longer than necessary, letting his fingers linger a few extra moments over Dean’s, or resting his hand on one of Dean’s muscular thighs.
The air between the brothers became thick and electric with unspoken desires and aborted touches. Since everyone at the facility was aware of their familial ties, any time anyone was around they worked to hide all the lust churning under the surface. Eventually the tension would build to a crescendo and Dean would shut them in behind the door to Sam’s room. So far all the Father had allowed were kisses, but Sam managed to make those kisses count.
It was mid September, school had started again back at the farmhouse and just as he’d done in the hospital, Father Winchester brought Sam’s lessons to him so he wouldn’t fall behind. Sam was trying to focus, he honestly was, but being alone with Dean was a distraction he found increasingly difficult to ignore. Especially since lesson time was one of the few opportunities they had to be together without the eyes of anyone to judge exactly how close the brothers were. Sometimes Dean fell back behind the wall of his role as teacher, but Sam usually managed to coax him back out again.
Father Winchester was reviewing Latin with Sam, and the young man found the sight and sound of those full lips enunciating the old language completely seductive. He asked Dean to repeat words over and over, hazel eyes riveted to Dean’s mouth until the gravitational force of that flesh compelled Sam forward. As he leaned over the books between them on the bed, Dean looked up, green irises nothing but a slender ring around wide pupils. Sam curled his lips in a half smile, his pink cupid’s bow nearly brushing Dean’s plush lips as he asked, “One more time, Father?” It was always a gamble to use that moniker in these moments, but it gave Dean a deep secret shiver and Sam had long since admitted to himself his own kink about his brother’s position.
The smallest sound escaped Dean just before he repeated the word, breathing it against Sam’s mouth. “Vis vires.”
Sam’s tongue snuck out to trace Dean’s bottom lip and then Sam drew the lush, tender flesh into his mouth, nipping it gently with his teeth. Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth and his hand plunged into Sam’s tousled hair which drew a matching sound from Sam. Books were forgotten as they both pushed forward trying to bring as much contact as possible between their bodies. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s muscled back and pulled him tight to his chest. His hands rubbed up Dean’s spine, over his neck and his fingers scratched through the short hair on the back of Dean’s head.
Dean’s mind swirled, every time he kissed Sam like this another piece of the wall he’d put between them crumbled and the reasons not to be with the man he loved seemed less and less important than all the reasons he and Sam should be together. The feeling of Sam’s long fingers grazing over his scalp and Sam’s lean body pressed to his registered deep in his gut. A breathy moan pushed from Dean as he tried to pull Sam even closer, his fingers tugged on the chestnut locks of Sam’s hair and tilted his head allowing their mouths to fit together perfectly and Dean pushed his tongue into Sam’s mouth.
Sam whimpered when he felt Dean’s tongue slip past his lips and begin tracing the inside of his mouth. He wrapped his own tongue around it and sucked it deeper in. Sam tried to push his body closer, but his leg went to an odd angle, and suddenly shocking pain shot up the nerve making him jump back and cry out, his hand flying to his thigh to grip the source of the sting.
“Sammy?” Dean asked, pupils still dilated, but green eyes filled with concern.
Sam nodded as he rubbed at the spasming muscle. “Just a cramp.”
Without thinking, Dean put his hands on Sam’s thigh, pushing Sam’s out of the way. “Let me help.” Dean’s strong fingers carefully massaged the tight muscle until he felt it start to loosen under his fingers. Sam relaxed under his touch and suddenly Dean realized where his hands were - wrapped around Sam’s lean thigh midway between knee and crotch. His brain told him he should probably move his hand away, but every ounce of his body refused to relinquish his hold and his hands itched to smooth up that long limb to the growing bulge in Sam’s jeans.
“Feels better,” Sam breathed out. He brought his own hands over Dean’s that had frozen in place. “You don’t have to stop.”
Dean’s fingers returned to gently kneading the muscle of Sam’s thigh as Sam’s hands slowly guided them further and further up his leg. Dean held his breath as Sam’s came in faster gulps, Dean’s fingertips now only inches from the growing hardness of Sam’s prick.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper as Dean’s fingers crept the final inch to stroke over the tip of Sam’s cock.
A firm knock sounded on Sam’s door and both boys jumped, Dean’s hands flying from their place in Sam’s lap.
“Sam?” Anne, Sam’s nurse, called from the other side of the door. “It’s time for meds. You decent?”
Sam cursed under his breath before calling out, “Yeah, come in.”
The door opened and Anne stepped through carrying a cup of water and a smaller white cup of pills. “Everything ok?” she asked, eyebrow quirked as if she could sense something off about the energy in the room.
Sam nodded and Dean said, “Yeah, I was helping Sam with his school work and he got a muscle spasm in his thigh.”
“Those happen with the physical therapy sometimes. I’ll bring you a muscle relaxer in a minute. Do you want a heating pad?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Dean helped me work it out. I’m fine now.” He took the pills and water, swallowing everything in one go. “Thanks, Anne.”
She smiled as she left the room, promising to return with the muscle relaxer.
Dean let out a breath and Sam cursed again. Sam was still half hard, but he knew the moment had been ruined and there would be no getting Dean back there tonight. “We need to get out of this place for a bit.”
Dean just looked at him. “Dean, I’m going stir-crazy. I’ve been either in the hospital or this place for months. Months. I’m not saying I wanna quit or take off or anything. Just get out for a night. Maybe dinner that’s some normal food? A movie? Freakin’ putt putt. I don’t care. Just something that’s not about PT or my stupid bones.”
Dean’s face melted into a half smile as he chuckled. “Fair enough. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so you only have the one PT session in the morning, then Sunday is usually your rest day anyway. How about we go to dinner in town?”
Sam grinned. “Father Winchester, you askin’ me on a date?”
Dean ducked his head as he blushed. He looked up and nodded. “Yeah, guess I am.”
Sam beamed harder and bounced across his bed, hands landing on Dean’s shoulders as he leaned forward to place a kiss on his brother’s lips. “’Bout time.” He kissed Dean again. “And yes. I say yes.”
Chapter 8
“Rise and shine, Sam!” Lanie, Sam’s primary physical therapist, was always just a touch more cheerful than the teen thought was healthy. Lately her pep bordered on psychotic. Sam groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. He’d tried, and it wasn’t that he didn’t care about getting better, but it was so much harder than he’d thought it would be.
Sam was three weeks into rehab, and his motivation had dwindled little by little, until for the last four days, Lanie had been forced to use more and more insistent wake up calls. This time she crossed the room and pulled the pillow off his face.
“Come on, sugar, our appointment was for 8, and it’s nearly half past, so we gotta get a move on.” Sam rolled over to face away from her again. He liked her, he really did. He just didn’t have it in him this morning. He was tired. He heard a heavy sigh behind him, then the sounds of a chair being dragged across the floor. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder just before he heard her voice again, tone gentle this time. “Ok, forget the exercises this morning. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Sam scrunched his eyelids tighter shut to resist rolling them. He would rather jump out of bed and do twice the exercises than talk.
“He’ll call today. He always does, you know that.” Lanie said, the hand on his shoulder giving a squeeze. She was talking about Dean, and she was right. He’d called Sam every single day since he’d dropped him off, but he hadn’t laid eyes on his brother in 20 days. This time he rolled his eyes at himself.
Dean had spoken to Pastor Jim the day after making Sam the promise that he would go to rehab with him. Pastor Jim agreed that the school would get along just fine without the young priest for a couple of months and that it would be good for Sam if Dean accompanied him. Dean had returned to the school to pack them each a suitcase, and the following day when Sam was released from the hospital, Dean drove them the four hours north. Three hours into the trip, Dean received a phone call and Sam had known immediately from the tension in his brother’s jaw that something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked as soon as Dean put his phone down.
“Pastor Jim’s had an emergency, Sam. He needs me to come back and look after the school.”
“Oh.” The small word was all Sam could manage through his tight throat.
“I’m sorry, Sam. It’s just for a few days, maybe a week. Then I’ll come right back up here with you.” When Sam didn’t say anything Dean added, “I promise.”
The week had stretched into two and now three. Dean called Sam every day, and every day he apologized, explaining that Jim had gotten held up and that he was waiting to hear back from the other men who might be able to help at the school. Dean sounded as pained as Sam felt about being separated, and though Sam knew in his head that his brother wanted to be with him, he couldn’t stop the familiar rush of dark emotions that always came with being left somewhere new on his own.
At first Sam had been determined to do well; he wanted to impress his brother when he returned. But every day he struggled a little more as the doubts swirled through him. The internal battle of convincing himself that Dean wouldn’t abandon him took its toll, and today was the day he was no longer interested in crawling out of the murky pit.
Sam shrugged Lanie’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m calling out sick today,” he grumbled, hoping she’d give up even though he knew her tenacity was limitless.
“You’re injured, not sick…and there’s no calling out of your physical therapy.”
“Well, call it whatever you want. I’m not doin’ that shit today.” There, if the attitude itself was not enough, throwing a curse out should take the perk out of her.
Lanie sighed and pushed up out of the chair. “Fine, Samuel. I will mark that you refused your morning session. I’ll see you at 1:30. No excuses.” She left before he could argue.
* * * * *
Father Winchester paced his apartment, racking his brain yet again. He’d just gotten off the phone with Pastor Jim, who was going to be stuck on his hunt for another week at least. Dean tossed his phone across the room into the couch. He had promised Sam, promised him, that he would be there in a week. Instead it was going to be over a month. There had to be someone, anyone who could sit at the school for a week or two. There were only 4 boys left and with no classes currently in session, it would be an easy job.
Dean’s ringtone sounded from the cushions across the room and he went to pick it up. The caller ID displayed the name of Sam’s rehab facility; he quickly hit the button to accept the call.
“Father Winchester? This is Dr. Wilson. I oversee the physical therapy program that Samuel Campbell is enrolled in.”
“Is Sam ok? What happened?” There was an edge of panic in Dean’s voice. He still hadn’t recovered from the guilt of being gone when Sam fell; he would never forgive himself if something else had happened to his brother while he wasn’t there.
“Nothing has happened, Father. Sam is not hurt.”
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I hope so. I’m sure you understand the extent of your brother’s injuries? And the importance of his full involvement in his physical therapy?”
“Yes, of course. The only way he’ll walk normally again is if he keeps up all his hard work. I don’t understand, you’re making it sound like Sam’s slacking off, but he was doing so well.”
“He was. At first. When Sam came to us he was in peak condition, and he was totally committed.” The doctor took a breath. “But, over the last few weeks, Sam has changed.”
“Changed?”
“His energy has declined steadily; he hasn’t been putting in the same effort. Today he completely refused PT. Father Winchester, I’m afraid if Sam doesn’t turn things around quickly he’ll lose any progress he has made. And if he continues to refuse therapy sessions, we’ll have to discharge him from the program.”
“Discharge him? No, you can’t do that. Sammy needs this therapy, and your facility is his best hope. What’s going on with him?” Dean asked. “There has to be something we can do to get him back on track.”
“I’m not sure why, but Sam just appears to have completely lost motivation. Maybe you can try talking to him. Your opinion seems to mean a lot to him.”
Dean breathed out. “Of course I’ll talk to him. Just please, don’t kick him out just yet.”
“We’ll give Sam a chance. He seems like a good kid under the teenage attitude; we really want to see him do well. Talk to him. See what you can do. I’ll check in with you again in a few days.”
Dean hung up his phone and stared at it in his palm. The image of Sam, alone and depressed, refusing his treatment, cut deep into his core, and guilt at being the one to trigger another bout of abandonment issues burned under his skin. He flicked through his phone to the contact list. This was no longer a choice; Sam needed him.
The phone only rang once before the man on the other end picked up.
“Dad? I need your help.”
John didn’t miss a beat. “Of course, son. Anything you need.”
“Pastor Jim is stuck on a job, and Sam needs my help, but someone needs to be here at the school for the boys who didn’t go home for the summer.”
“Dean…I don’t know how good I’d be with a bunch of teen-“
“Caleb can come to the school, he’s filled in before. But he is finishing off a hunt…I need you to finish his hunt so he can come here.”
“Just tell me where he is and I’ll be on my way there.”
Dean’s head fell back as relief flooded his system. “Thanks, Dad.” Dean gave John the coordinates and made the call to Caleb as he packed his duffel bag. By nightfall Caleb was bunked in one of the empty rooms in the farmhouse and Dean was in the Impala on his way to Sam.
* * * * *
“I know!” Sam didn’t mean to raise his voice, but really, he’d done this exercise about a thousand times and Lanie knew he knew how to do it. Her legs hadn’t been shattered, she didn’t get how hard this was and he was just about done with the stupid happy smile she always flashed at him as she asked him to go through the most excruciating activities.
“Alright, Sam. One more step to the wheelchair, then I’ll let you off the hook for the night.”
Sam scowled at her as he completed that step and then flopped down into the chair.
“Good enough. You can go back to your room. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. And we’re adding another session tomorrow to make up for skipping this morning.”
Sam wheeled out of the room without answering. When he got back to his room, he grabbed his crutches and levered himself out of his chair and over to his bed. He dropped onto his bed and fought to catch his breath. He was so tired of this. He pushed back against the headboard and his gaze fell on the nightstand to the copy of the Knights of the Round Table Dean had left with him. Tears stung the back of his eyes and he swiped his hand over the table sending the book and everything else there flying across the room.
“Rough day?”
Sam’s head snapped to the doorway. “Dean?” He hadn’t realized how much he missed his brother until those bow legs were carrying Dean into the room to him and Sam could not stop the grin that took over his entire face.
Dean kicked the door shut and crossed the room in two steps as he watched Sam’s face light up. The crushing weight Dean had felt since the day he’d had to drive away and leave Sam behind alone lifted from his chest at the sight of those dimples. As soon as Dean reached the bed, he pulled Sam into a hug, and as he breathed in the scent of his brother, he knew he couldn’t be separated from Sam again.
Sam pulled back from the hug just enough to look into Dean’s eyes, and his hand came up to cup his brother’s face. Their lips were inches apart and Sam wanted so badly to kiss Dean, but he still wasn’t sure where the young priest’s head was with this thing between them, and he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance they seem to have found. “I can’t believe you’re here.” Sam whispered, running his thumb over Dean’s stubbled cheek. “I missed you. So much.”
Father Winchester’s hands moved over Sam’s back, and then up into the hair over his collar. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Shoulda been here sooner, I-“ Sam could not hold himself back anymore. He leaned forward those inches and brought their lips together. Dean tensed for only a fraction of a second before he relaxed into Sam’s touch.
“Missed you too.” Dean said as he drew back from the kiss. “I tried to get here sooner, Sam, I really did.”
“I don’t care, Dean. I’m just glad you’re here now.” Sam wrapped his hands around Dean’s. “Did Pastor Jim come back?”
Dean shook his head. “No, he’s still dealing with his emergency.”
Sam frowned in confusion. “Who’s at the school then? And why did you come now?”
“Caleb’s at the school. Dr. Wilson called me, Sam. He told me you weren’t doing very well, they’re worried about you…I called Dad, he went to help with Caleb’s job so Caleb could watch the school.”
Sam raised an eyebrow to that. “You called John?”
Dean nodded. “It’s just for a week or so, and then Jim will be back.” When Sam’s look didn’t change Dean rushed on. “I just couldn’t leave you alone any longer, Sammy. Shouldn’t have in the first place.” Dean pushed a hand into Sam’s hair, stroking the chestnut strands between his fingers.
“I know you couldn’t help it, but I hated you being away.”
Dean smiled at him. “I was always coming back.” Dean ran a thumb over Sam’s cheek, then dropped his hand back to the bed between them. “So, what’s happened with therapy, Sam?”
Sam looked down to the hands that were still entwined between them. “I-I don’t know…at first it was fine. Then…I just…I didn’t care anymore. And it hurts sometimes. And it’s really hard.” He looked up into Dean’s green eyes, a smirk spreading across his face. “Plus they start so early.”
Dean laughed as he shook his head. “Well, no more slacking; you worked too hard in the hospital to get here. We are gonna get you walking again.”
Sam nodded. “Okay.”
“I got a hotel room down the block. I’ll be here every day.”
Sam’s hazel eyes held the glimmer of tears as he thanked Father Winchester.
* * * * *
Dean held true to his word. He appeared in Sam’s doorway every morning, and every morning Sam lit up as soon as he set eyes on his brother. Sam quickly made up the progress he’d lost during his depression, and soon he was making even bigger steps forward.
Things seemed to change between the two young men as well. Dean had packed quickly and most of the clothes he’d brought with him were casual. Being out of uniform and away from the school and church, the pressures of his roles felt small and far away. His guard slipped, and the budding feelings he had for Sam occupied more and more of his heart. One by one Dean’s reasons for not being with Sam faded from his mind. The priest felt himself being irresistibly drawn closer and closer to the young man.
Sam flourished under the attentions of his older brother. He was soon walking with the crutches more often than using the wheelchair and as the weeks went on he began working with a cane. It felt good to walk upright towards Dean and look into his beautiful green eyes.
The change in Dean’s demeanor didn’t escape Sam’s notice either. He watched as his brother relaxed and there was no more discussion of boundaries. Though Dean wasn’t making any more moves towards anything sexual, he seemed less and less inclined to disguise the looks of longing and desire towards Sam. Sam didn’t push, just allowed hints that he was still more than willing to advance their physical relationship; sending looks at his brother that were just a bit longer than necessary, letting his fingers linger a few extra moments over Dean’s, or resting his hand on one of Dean’s muscular thighs.
The air between the brothers became thick and electric with unspoken desires and aborted touches. Since everyone at the facility was aware of their familial ties, any time anyone was around they worked to hide all the lust churning under the surface. Eventually the tension would build to a crescendo and Dean would shut them in behind the door to Sam’s room. So far all the Father had allowed were kisses, but Sam managed to make those kisses count.
It was mid September, school had started again back at the farmhouse and just as he’d done in the hospital, Father Winchester brought Sam’s lessons to him so he wouldn’t fall behind. Sam was trying to focus, he honestly was, but being alone with Dean was a distraction he found increasingly difficult to ignore. Especially since lesson time was one of the few opportunities they had to be together without the eyes of anyone to judge exactly how close the brothers were. Sometimes Dean fell back behind the wall of his role as teacher, but Sam usually managed to coax him back out again.
Father Winchester was reviewing Latin with Sam, and the young man found the sight and sound of those full lips enunciating the old language completely seductive. He asked Dean to repeat words over and over, hazel eyes riveted to Dean’s mouth until the gravitational force of that flesh compelled Sam forward. As he leaned over the books between them on the bed, Dean looked up, green irises nothing but a slender ring around wide pupils. Sam curled his lips in a half smile, his pink cupid’s bow nearly brushing Dean’s plush lips as he asked, “One more time, Father?” It was always a gamble to use that moniker in these moments, but it gave Dean a deep secret shiver and Sam had long since admitted to himself his own kink about his brother’s position.
The smallest sound escaped Dean just before he repeated the word, breathing it against Sam’s mouth. “Vis vires.”
Sam’s tongue snuck out to trace Dean’s bottom lip and then Sam drew the lush, tender flesh into his mouth, nipping it gently with his teeth. Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth and his hand plunged into Sam’s tousled hair which drew a matching sound from Sam. Books were forgotten as they both pushed forward trying to bring as much contact as possible between their bodies. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s muscled back and pulled him tight to his chest. His hands rubbed up Dean’s spine, over his neck and his fingers scratched through the short hair on the back of Dean’s head.
Dean’s mind swirled, every time he kissed Sam like this another piece of the wall he’d put between them crumbled and the reasons not to be with the man he loved seemed less and less important than all the reasons he and Sam should be together. The feeling of Sam’s long fingers grazing over his scalp and Sam’s lean body pressed to his registered deep in his gut. A breathy moan pushed from Dean as he tried to pull Sam even closer, his fingers tugged on the chestnut locks of Sam’s hair and tilted his head allowing their mouths to fit together perfectly and Dean pushed his tongue into Sam’s mouth.
Sam whimpered when he felt Dean’s tongue slip past his lips and begin tracing the inside of his mouth. He wrapped his own tongue around it and sucked it deeper in. Sam tried to push his body closer, but his leg went to an odd angle, and suddenly shocking pain shot up the nerve making him jump back and cry out, his hand flying to his thigh to grip the source of the sting.
“Sammy?” Dean asked, pupils still dilated, but green eyes filled with concern.
Sam nodded as he rubbed at the spasming muscle. “Just a cramp.”
Without thinking, Dean put his hands on Sam’s thigh, pushing Sam’s out of the way. “Let me help.” Dean’s strong fingers carefully massaged the tight muscle until he felt it start to loosen under his fingers. Sam relaxed under his touch and suddenly Dean realized where his hands were - wrapped around Sam’s lean thigh midway between knee and crotch. His brain told him he should probably move his hand away, but every ounce of his body refused to relinquish his hold and his hands itched to smooth up that long limb to the growing bulge in Sam’s jeans.
“Feels better,” Sam breathed out. He brought his own hands over Dean’s that had frozen in place. “You don’t have to stop.”
Dean’s fingers returned to gently kneading the muscle of Sam’s thigh as Sam’s hands slowly guided them further and further up his leg. Dean held his breath as Sam’s came in faster gulps, Dean’s fingertips now only inches from the growing hardness of Sam’s prick.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper as Dean’s fingers crept the final inch to stroke over the tip of Sam’s cock.
A firm knock sounded on Sam’s door and both boys jumped, Dean’s hands flying from their place in Sam’s lap.
“Sam?” Anne, Sam’s nurse, called from the other side of the door. “It’s time for meds. You decent?”
Sam cursed under his breath before calling out, “Yeah, come in.”
The door opened and Anne stepped through carrying a cup of water and a smaller white cup of pills. “Everything ok?” she asked, eyebrow quirked as if she could sense something off about the energy in the room.
Sam nodded and Dean said, “Yeah, I was helping Sam with his school work and he got a muscle spasm in his thigh.”
“Those happen with the physical therapy sometimes. I’ll bring you a muscle relaxer in a minute. Do you want a heating pad?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Dean helped me work it out. I’m fine now.” He took the pills and water, swallowing everything in one go. “Thanks, Anne.”
She smiled as she left the room, promising to return with the muscle relaxer.
Dean let out a breath and Sam cursed again. Sam was still half hard, but he knew the moment had been ruined and there would be no getting Dean back there tonight. “We need to get out of this place for a bit.”
Dean just looked at him. “Dean, I’m going stir-crazy. I’ve been either in the hospital or this place for months. Months. I’m not saying I wanna quit or take off or anything. Just get out for a night. Maybe dinner that’s some normal food? A movie? Freakin’ putt putt. I don’t care. Just something that’s not about PT or my stupid bones.”
Dean’s face melted into a half smile as he chuckled. “Fair enough. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so you only have the one PT session in the morning, then Sunday is usually your rest day anyway. How about we go to dinner in town?”
Sam grinned. “Father Winchester, you askin’ me on a date?”
Dean ducked his head as he blushed. He looked up and nodded. “Yeah, guess I am.”
Sam beamed harder and bounced across his bed, hands landing on Dean’s shoulders as he leaned forward to place a kiss on his brother’s lips. “’Bout time.” He kissed Dean again. “And yes. I say yes.”
Chapter 8