Faith, Love, and Sin - Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Sam tried to keep himself busy, hoping that if his brain, or at least his hands, were occupied enough he wouldn’t count down the days and hours until Dean returned. Of course it was all futile; the only things his mind could focus on were his brother and that letter.
Damn that letter. Before Pastor Jim had placed it in Sam’s hand, before Sam had been stupid enough to actually open it, Sam nearly had himself convinced he would be fine without Dean. He’d lost everyone in his life that ever meant anything to him in one way or another, and though this would by far be the most painful loss, at least it had been on Sam’s terms. Sam was sure he had extinguished the flame of hope lit by his and Dean’s love, but a tiny ember must have remained, and Dean’s promise had fanned it until Sam’s brain burned with it.
The two weeks preceding Thanksgiving break he managed to struggle through. Each day trudged along at less than a snail’s pace, but eventually the sun would set and Sam could tick off another day on his internal calendar. There were classes and chores, and in the little bit of down time he had he could usually find at least one of the guys to distract him with a video game, study session or conversation.
However, time crashed to a screeching halt once classes ended for Thanksgiving break. Everyone but Sam and two other boys went home, and the silence around the farmhouse taunted him. He was grateful for the paper Pastor Jim had assigned to be due the week after break ended, but he was so desperate for distraction that he finished it in two days. He tried reading, but after a sentence or two the words swam around in his mind making it impossible to get through a page let alone a chapter. He volunteered to help Pastor Jim with the extra chores, and the physical labor was much more helpful in burning off his nervous energy, but the tasks were largely mindless and left him plenty of time to ponder Dean’s whereabouts and the meaning of the letter.
Eventually the final day of break dawned and Sam gave up on the hope that it would pass with any kind of speed. He resigned himself to a day that would spread before him like an eternity and plodded through it one second at a time. More than once he caught himself staring at a clock literally watching seconds tick away, and a few times checking his watch to make sure it hadn’t stopped.
He couldn’t stop trying to figure out when Dean would return. He’d only said before break was over, and classes were set to resume the next day. His mind flicked back and forth between thinking he was an idiot for believing Dean’s letter, and looking out every window he passed for any sign of Dean’s car, ear’s straining to hear it’s now familiar rumble.
By the time he sat down to dinner he was half-convinced time was starting to move backwards. As he shoveled another bite of food into his mouth chewing it into a flavorless lump he looked up at the clock on the wall over Pastor Jim’s head and forced himself to ignore the understanding smile on the old man’s face. When the meal ended without a knock on the door or a creak of an old car door, Sam took Jim up on his offer to do the dishes and shuffled to his room, collapsing on the bed and using his last ounce of energy to resist pouting.
Sam had just pulled Dean’s letter out of his journal to stare at his brother’s handwriting one more time when he heard it: The distant roar had to be the engine of Dean’s Impala. All that nervous energy he’d been trying to contain for weeks burst to the surface and Sam stood from his bed, grabbed his cane and made his way to the window in the living room that looked down the driveway. He couldn’t see all the way to the church and Dean’s apartment, but he was sure he saw headlights flicker through the trees and then cut out. He suddenly had no idea what to do with himself, he wasn’t sure if Dean would want to see him right away…or if he wanted to see Dean right away. Sam walked back to his bedroom and began pacing the small room with his cane.
About 40 minutes, or maybe an aeon later, Sam’s phone rang, and though he pounced on it right away, he made himself wait for the third ring before he picked it up.
“Sam?” Dean’s voice sounded as small and unsure as Sam felt.
“Yeah, Dean, it’s me.”
“I’m sorry it’s so late…I meant to be back last night, but I had a few things to wrap up and I just couldn’t get here until tonight. If you’d rather see me tomorrow, I understand - I mean, if you want to see me at all. I hope you’ll see me, Sammy.”
Sam closed his eyes and swallowed, he couldn’t ignore the way hearing that name on Dean’s lips still affected him. “Just give me 10 minutes; I’ll come down to your apartment.”
Sam could hear the smile in Dean’s voice when he answered. “Of course. I’ll be waiting.”
* * * * *
Fourteen minutes and 37 seconds later, Sam stood outside the church trying to catch his breath from what he refused to call his run down the driveway - well, as close to a run as he could manage with his cane. He took several deep breaths, willing his lungs and heart to slow, and pushed his hands through his hair. Sam wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, pulled in one more steadying deep breath and knocked on Dean’s door.
Dean sat on his sofa staring at the wrapped package in front of him, hoping everything he’d worked on over the last three weeks wouldn’t be for naught. When he heard the knock on the door he was across the room with his hand on the doorknob before the third tap. He flung the door open to see Sam standing on his doorstep, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise for a minute and then quickly morphing into a shy smile as his head dropped, shaggy hair falling over his face.
“Sammy,” Dean breathed, relieved to finally have Sam in front of him and apparently willing to hear him out. Dean’s arms ached to pull Sam in close, bury his nose in Sam’s warm neck and breathe in his scent.
“Hey Dean,” Sam said, and his voice sounded so unsure that Dean didn’t dare to touch him for fear he’d spook the teen.
Dean swallowed at the reminder of where things had been left between them and he looked down at the ground as he spoke. “C-come on in. Uh, have-have a seat.” He motioned at the sofa and Sam nodded, mumbling a “thanks” as he lowered himself onto the cushion. Dean pulled over the chair from his desk to sit facing Sam, their knees almost touching.
Sam looked up at Dean expectantly, and though Dean had had a speech all prepared his mind was suddenly blank. He kept hearing Sam say, No more words, in his head and he knew the words he’d so carefully prepared weren’t going to be what would make a difference to Sam. If anything would get Sam to see how much he meant to Dean, it would be the contents of the box he’d spent the last three weeks putting together.
Dean looked down to the box he held in his hands, simply wrapped in blue paper and tied with a green ribbon. He looked up to meet Sam’s eyes, “Sam…I know no more words can fix things. But I need to say it one more time…I’m sorry I hurt you…and Sammy, I love you. So much.”
Sam sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, he’d really hoped this wouldn’t become another version of the conversation they’d already had. He couldn’t bear it; it hurt too much to keep losing Dean over and over. “Dean, I know…I just…it doesn’t -”
Dean cut Sam off before he had to hear Sam say one more time that it wasn’t enough. “No more words, Sam. Here.” Dean held out the package to his brother, “I spent the last three weeks doing. Just, please, open it before you make up your mind?”
Sam tilted his head to the side as he took in the honesty in Dean’s face. The open vulnerability in those green eyes hooked him and he reached out to accept the gift from Dean’s shaking hands. “Ok, Dean.”
Sam set the box in his lap and his hands shook slightly as he carefully pulled the paper away. He wanted nothing more than for whatever was in this box to change things, but he couldn’t imagine a gift Dean could give him that would erase all the obstacles to their relationship, or that would make Dean better equipped to handle them. He took a deep breath and lifted the lid to peer inside the box.
When his eyes fell on the contents he looked up at Dean, brow furrowed quizzically and head tilted again. “Dean?” He was looking at a stack of papers, documents of some kind.
“Just read them,” Dean prompted hopefully.
Sam lifted the first sheet from the box and held it in front of him. It was a deed…to a house in Illinois…in Dean’s name. When Sam looked closer, he saw a second owner listed - Samuel Campbell. His mouth dropped open and his hand flew up to cover the gape. Dean had bought them a house? In Illinois? Sam’s brain grappled with the information, but he couldn’t make his wheels turn fast enough to make sense of this. “Dean…I-I don’t…What is…?”
Dean smiled, though his nervousness was still etched into every muscle of his body and line on his face. “Keep going, I’ll explain.”
The next sheet Sam lifted was an enrollment form in Evanston Township High School. It too was in Sam’s name. He frowned up at Dean; things were making less sense to him, not more. Was Dean sending him away? Surely Dean didn’t think running away would fix everything. Dean motioned for Sam to keep going, and he picked up the next document. It was a contract, to be a history teacher at Evanston Township High School, for Mr. Dean Winchester. Mister? But Dean wasn’t Mr. Winchester, he was Father Winchester. Not even bothering to look to his brother in question this time, Sam snatched up the next paper from the pile. It was a letter, well, a photocopy of a letter. Sam immediately recognized Dean’s handwriting, and as he read the words, his mouth fell open further and his stomach dropped through his feet.
…The church has meant so much to me, and I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude for what it has given me. However, at this time I must submit my request to resign from the priesthood. My life has developed in a way I never imagined, and I will be rescinding my position at Blue Earth to pursue a career teaching….
The letter continued on, but Sam had already dropped it back into the box. Both hands covered his mouth as he stared at Dean, hazel eyes impossibly wide. He pushed his hands back through his hair and just looked at Dean. His brain had stopped even attempting to process the contents of Dean’s gift and now he needed to hear Dean’s explanation.
Dean took a deep breath and looked for a place to start in the explanation he had promised Sam. “I told you I wanted to be with you, more than anything…but you were right, Sam, words don’t mean anything without action behind them.” He paused to look at Sam, deep into his swirling hazel eyes, “So, I took action, Sammy. It just, it won’t work for us to be together here, so when I started working out the way for us to be together, it started with leaving.”
“But, Dean, you love this place…the school…Pastor Jim. I don’t want you to give up everything -”
Dean cut Sam off again, taking Sam’s hands into his own. “I’m not giving up everything, Sammy, I’m making changes to keep the one thing, the only thing, that truly matters this deeply to me. You. What I love about this place is serving…teaching…helping these kids. So, I found a job teaching. And Pastor Jim, he understands, and just because I move away doesn’t mean he won’t still be an important part of my life.” Dean paused, letting the information sink in for Sam.
Sam’s mind struggled to recover from the impact of the completely unexpected information, but when Dean wrapped his strong hands around Sam’s, the touch brought an immediate sense of comfort. His brain calmed enough for him to work through the information. Dean wanted them to be together enough, wanted Sam enough, to change his entire life. This was so much more than a few words whispered between them. Sam’s heart swelled and he couldn’t stop the tears that trickled free. Dean loved him.
Dean’s shoulders relaxed as soon as he saw Sam smile through the tears that had tracked through his dimples. He smiled at the younger man as he squeezed his hands, and Sam leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to Dean’s lips. Dean’s hand gently cupped the back of Sam’s head as he carefully kissed him back, letting their foreheads rest together after. “Love you, Sammy,” Dean whispered.
“I love you too, Dean.” Sam closed his eyes against the overwhelming wave of emotions. He just breathed in and out for a minute, before opening his eyes again and gently pulling from Dean’s hold. “Why Illinois?”
Dean chuckled a little. “Well, I…I plan to keep hunting, or at least keep helping with hunts. I can’t give that up.”
Sam broke in to say, “I wouldn’t want you to, Dean.”
“So, I wanted a sort of central state. And Northwestern has a great pre-law program…I remembered you said you wanted to be a lawyer…work in family court to help other kids that ‘nobody wanted.’” Dean parroting back words Sam had only tossed out once in a conversation Sam could barely even recall touched his already raw and overwhelmed heart.
“You remembered that?”
“’Course I did, Sammy.” Dean smiled, and cupped Sam’s jaw in his hand, running his thumb over the high cheekbone. “There’s one more thing in the box.”
Sam jumped like a kid at Christmas, pulling out the papers he’d already read to get to the bottom of the box. There was another small, flat box and Sam pulled it out, dropped the larger box to the floor and slowly pulled the top from the small box. Inside, resting on white cotton batting were two silver rings. Sam took in a sharp breath as he looked up at Dean, brow furrowed once again.
“The other reason I picked Illinois is…the age of consent is 17. I know you’re young…and I don’t mean tomorrow…but someday, Sammy…someday I want to marry you. I want us to have our whole lives together. So these are just…sort of a promise…that I won’t ever give you up, won’t ever give up on you and that I will always show you how much you mean to me.” Dean’s face had blushed bright red under his freckles, and Sam couldn’t think of anything he’d ever found more adorable.
“Yes.” Sam said, wide dimpled grin spreading across his face.
“Yes?” Dean asked. “Yes to what?”
Sam laughed and leaned forward to throw his hands around Dean’s neck. “To all of it. Yes to moving away with you, yes to marrying you…someday. Yes to you, Dean. Yes to us.”
Dean threw his head back, laughing and whooping. He stood from his chair, bringing Sam up with him. Sam laughed with his brother, wrapping his long arms around Dean’s broad shoulders. It was almost more than he could believe, everything he could have hoped for, wrapped up in a box.
As soon as Sam’s feet returned to the ground, he wrapped his large hands around Dean’s head and pulled him into a bone-shaking kiss. The power and emotion in it left them both breathless and tingling and as their lips parted, Sam murmured, “I think you’d better lock that door.”
Dean groaned low in his throat as he reluctantly pulled from Sam’s arms to lock the door, throwing the deadbolt as well, just to be sure. He made the trip back to Sam in two giant strides and wrapped the young man up in his arms, pushing them both towards the bedroom. Their lips continued to slide together, tongues twisting and dancing as tangled legs made their way to the bed. Sam freed one long leg enough to kick the bedroom door shut as they passed through.
As soon as they stood next to Dean’s bed, their hands flew to each other’s clothes, popping buttons through button-holes, dragging zippers down and pushing away fabric until Sam and Dean faced each other, Dean in his boxer briefs and Sam naked since he still went without underwear most days.
Sam leaned forward, hands resting on Dean’s hips as he licked up the line of freckles on the side of Dean’s neck. When his mouth reached Dean’s ear his tongue traced the shell and he whispered, “God, I missed you, Dean.”
“Missed you too, Sammy. Nnngh!” Dean moaned as Sam’s lips found their way to a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.
Sam licked down Dean’s throat, sucking at the skin over his collarbone. “So good…gonna taste every inch of you, Dean. Every. Inch.” He punctuated each of the last words with an open-mouthed kiss to warm skin. Sam laved his tongue over freckled shoulders and down past the tattoo on Dean’s chest, stopping to close his mouth over a sensitive nipple. He teased the bud until Dean was panting with pleasure and then Sam gently pushed Dean down on the bed.
Dean scooted back onto the mattress and then surged up to bring Sam’s mouth back to his for another kiss. Dean sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth as he pulled Sam down on top him. Sam braced himself over Dean, weight resting on his arms as he lay between Dean’s legs, his naked dick pressing against Dean’s hard length through the fabric of boxer briefs now damp with precome. The kiss deepened as they searched out friction rutting against each other.
Sam yanked back from the kiss breathlessly and forced himself to stop grinding against Dean, pushing up onto all fours and hushing Dean’s answering whimper of protest. He bent his head to Dean’s chest and kissed a line down his abs, looking up at Dean through his bangs as his lips met the golden trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of Dean’s underwear. Sam’s fingers hooked under the band and Dean lifted his hips so Sam could pull them free.
The boxer briefs were tossed onto the floor as Sam returned to his path towards Dean’s cock. He licked up the underside, dipping his tongue into the slit when he reached the head. Dean moaned above him as Sam wrapped his lips around the head, sucking briefly before pulling off to let the blood-heavy organ slap wetly against Dean’s belly. Sam grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and urged Dean’s hips into the air again to push it underneath his brother.
“Sammy…what are-“ Dean’s question was cut off by a surprised moan when he felt Sam’s tongue tease over the sensitive skin of his balls. Sam licked over each one before sucking them gently into his mouth as Dean slowly came apart above him.
“Every inch, Dean,” Sam said as he released the tender flesh. His mouth continued down, tongue licking over the skin of his perineum and then back further.
Dean threw his head back and his hands fisted in the sheets when he felt the hot wet tip of Sam’s tongue at his entrance. He teased and licked and traced around the furled muscle until it relaxed enough to press inside. Sam soaked up the sounds of the steady stream of moans and broken words Dean let out between panted breaths as his tongue fucked in and out of Dean’s hole.
Dean’s mind was lost to the utter bliss of sensation in his body created by Sam’s mouth. Sounds he couldn’t even be sure were words babbled from his parted lips, his hips undulating back against Sam’s face. Sam continued to alternate fucking his tongue into Dean with licking and sucking at his rim until Dean finally found a single word. “More,” he breathed out, and then, “Please…Sammy….n-need more.”
A lascivious smile curled Sam’s lips, he was only too happy to comply with Dean’s request, but he needed to be certain of what Dean really wanted. “You sure?”
There was no hesitation from Dean. “Yes! God, yes. I’m sure.”
Sam thrust his tongue in and out of Dean a few more times before pulling back to ask, “Do you want more of this? Or something else?” Dean only whimpered in response. Sam placed a kiss to Dean’s inner thigh, “Need you to use your words, Dean. Give it to you, whatever you want…but if we’re going to do this, I need to know for sure it’s what you want.”
Dean heaved a few breaths, finally forcing his mouth to create words. “F-fingers. Want your fingers.”
Sam cursed under his breath as his cock twitched at hearing those words on Dean’s plush lips.
Dean reached to the nightstand and pulled a small bottle out dropping it near Sam’s head. When Sam saw it was lube he quirked an eyebrow at his brother who just shrugged as he blushed ever so slightly. Sam grinned and flicked open the cap, pouring some onto his fingers.
Sam traced his finger around the softened rim of Dean’s hole and then pushed it in to the first knuckle, giving Dean a beat to catch his breath before pushing in the rest of the way. He returned the attentions of his tongue to Dean’s balls and enjoyed the sounds coming from Dean above him. Minutes later Dean was again moaning out, “More. Please, Sam, more.”
Sam added a second finger, fucking them in and out of Dean’s channel until he felt it relax enough to crook his long fingers forward into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Dean cried out as his back arched up from the bed and the sight of Dean coming apart so thoroughly beneath him made Sam’s already hard cock leak.
“Sammy,” Dean pleaded above him. “Want more...want-want you.”
“You got me, Dean. ‘M right here.”
Dean shook his head, bringing his eyes to meet Sam’s. The green had darkened and all but disappeared around the lust-widened pupil, but Sam could still see the plea there. “No…want you…inside me.”
Sam swallowed hard. Just the thought of what Dean was asking had him so near to coming that he had to grip the base of his cock tight. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. He leaned up over Dean’s body, faces even and hazel eyes searching out the emotions in his brother’s eyes. “Dean, I-I need to know-I want you so bad, but only if you’re ready for this. You gotta say it. One more time, baby; tell me what you want so I can give it to you.”
Dean licked his lips, puffy and red from kisses. He took Sam’s face in his hands and brought him down for a kiss that Sam felt down to his soul. “I’m ready. I want this, Sammy. I want your body inside my body…the way your heart is in my heart.” Sam teared up and as he sniffed a little Dean added, “Now get your dick in me before I turn into a complete sap.”
Sam huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Such a romantic.” He planted another kiss on Dean’s smirking lips as he added a third finger. Dean stiffened for just a second before his body relaxed and Sam worked his fingers in and out, stretching and scissoring until he was satisfied that his brother was open enough.
Dean was left with an aching emptiness when Sam pulled his fingers free and went to his jeans, getting a condom out of his wallet. He rolled it on as Dean watched hungrily, then knelt between Dean’s spread legs and poured more lube into his hand to slick his cock. Dean opened his legs wider, leaving himself exposed and vulnerable to Sam, but when Sam looked into his eyes he saw no shame, only love and trust.
Sam lined himself up with Dean’s opening and leaned down to kiss Dean as he slowly pushed forward. It was a tight fit and Sam had to fight to maintain control, but eventually with small gentle pushes forward, Sam was fully surrounded by Dean’s heat. He stopped and watched his brother’s face as Dean took deep breaths, allowing his body to accept Sam’s large cock.
After a few moments, the burn eased. Dean put his hands on Sam’s hips and shifted his own to take Sam deeper as he said, “Move.”
Sam had been barely holding out and with the okay from Dean, he pulled back until only the head of his cock stretched Dean’s rim, then thrust forward, slow and deep, both men groaning at the sweet stretch and friction. Several more slow thrusts and an adjustment of Sam’s angle had Dean writhing and begging beneath him. The sight of this gorgeous man completely lost to his passion for Sam, stretched around his cock, fair skin flushed and shimmering with sweat pushed Sam precariously close to the edge.
“God, Dean, want to…but, fuck you’re so tight. Not…gonna last.”
“Me too. It’s okay.” Dean wrapped his hand around his bloody-heavy cock, knowing his own orgasm wouldn’t hold off as long he wanted either. “Let go. Do it, Sammy.”
A moan pushed from deep in Sam’s throat as he began to thrust faster, fucking into Dean hard enough to push his body up the bed. Dean stroked himself faster, his squeeze around the head fell in time with a forceful thrust right into his prostate and he knew he was about to come. Just one more push from Sam into that spot and Dean was shooting hot and wet up his own chest, calling Sam’s name.
Sam felt Dean’s hole tighten around him as his brother climaxed and he felt his own explosion start in his spine and spread. His hips thrust erratically, Dean’s name pushed from his lips and he plunged deep into Dean as he came.
He collapsed onto the firm body beneath him and they held each other as their breathing slowed. Sam pulled back, slowly freeing his cock from Dean’s body as Dean tried not to wince. He removed the condom, tied it off and tossed it into the trash. When he realized they were both sticky with sweat and Dean’s come, he grabbed his shirt from the floor and wiped the worst of the mess away.
As Sam dropped the shirt to the floor, Dean grabbed him and pulled him back down to the bed. Sam nestled into Dean, resting his head on his chest, tucking under his chin. Dean carded his hand through Sam’s hair and Sam stretched up for one last kiss before snuggling back into his spot and wrapping one long arm around Dean’s waist.
“So when do we leave?” Sam asked.
Dean smiled as he hugged Sam tighter. “January.”
Epilogue
Sam tried to keep himself busy, hoping that if his brain, or at least his hands, were occupied enough he wouldn’t count down the days and hours until Dean returned. Of course it was all futile; the only things his mind could focus on were his brother and that letter.
Damn that letter. Before Pastor Jim had placed it in Sam’s hand, before Sam had been stupid enough to actually open it, Sam nearly had himself convinced he would be fine without Dean. He’d lost everyone in his life that ever meant anything to him in one way or another, and though this would by far be the most painful loss, at least it had been on Sam’s terms. Sam was sure he had extinguished the flame of hope lit by his and Dean’s love, but a tiny ember must have remained, and Dean’s promise had fanned it until Sam’s brain burned with it.
The two weeks preceding Thanksgiving break he managed to struggle through. Each day trudged along at less than a snail’s pace, but eventually the sun would set and Sam could tick off another day on his internal calendar. There were classes and chores, and in the little bit of down time he had he could usually find at least one of the guys to distract him with a video game, study session or conversation.
However, time crashed to a screeching halt once classes ended for Thanksgiving break. Everyone but Sam and two other boys went home, and the silence around the farmhouse taunted him. He was grateful for the paper Pastor Jim had assigned to be due the week after break ended, but he was so desperate for distraction that he finished it in two days. He tried reading, but after a sentence or two the words swam around in his mind making it impossible to get through a page let alone a chapter. He volunteered to help Pastor Jim with the extra chores, and the physical labor was much more helpful in burning off his nervous energy, but the tasks were largely mindless and left him plenty of time to ponder Dean’s whereabouts and the meaning of the letter.
Eventually the final day of break dawned and Sam gave up on the hope that it would pass with any kind of speed. He resigned himself to a day that would spread before him like an eternity and plodded through it one second at a time. More than once he caught himself staring at a clock literally watching seconds tick away, and a few times checking his watch to make sure it hadn’t stopped.
He couldn’t stop trying to figure out when Dean would return. He’d only said before break was over, and classes were set to resume the next day. His mind flicked back and forth between thinking he was an idiot for believing Dean’s letter, and looking out every window he passed for any sign of Dean’s car, ear’s straining to hear it’s now familiar rumble.
By the time he sat down to dinner he was half-convinced time was starting to move backwards. As he shoveled another bite of food into his mouth chewing it into a flavorless lump he looked up at the clock on the wall over Pastor Jim’s head and forced himself to ignore the understanding smile on the old man’s face. When the meal ended without a knock on the door or a creak of an old car door, Sam took Jim up on his offer to do the dishes and shuffled to his room, collapsing on the bed and using his last ounce of energy to resist pouting.
Sam had just pulled Dean’s letter out of his journal to stare at his brother’s handwriting one more time when he heard it: The distant roar had to be the engine of Dean’s Impala. All that nervous energy he’d been trying to contain for weeks burst to the surface and Sam stood from his bed, grabbed his cane and made his way to the window in the living room that looked down the driveway. He couldn’t see all the way to the church and Dean’s apartment, but he was sure he saw headlights flicker through the trees and then cut out. He suddenly had no idea what to do with himself, he wasn’t sure if Dean would want to see him right away…or if he wanted to see Dean right away. Sam walked back to his bedroom and began pacing the small room with his cane.
About 40 minutes, or maybe an aeon later, Sam’s phone rang, and though he pounced on it right away, he made himself wait for the third ring before he picked it up.
“Sam?” Dean’s voice sounded as small and unsure as Sam felt.
“Yeah, Dean, it’s me.”
“I’m sorry it’s so late…I meant to be back last night, but I had a few things to wrap up and I just couldn’t get here until tonight. If you’d rather see me tomorrow, I understand - I mean, if you want to see me at all. I hope you’ll see me, Sammy.”
Sam closed his eyes and swallowed, he couldn’t ignore the way hearing that name on Dean’s lips still affected him. “Just give me 10 minutes; I’ll come down to your apartment.”
Sam could hear the smile in Dean’s voice when he answered. “Of course. I’ll be waiting.”
* * * * *
Fourteen minutes and 37 seconds later, Sam stood outside the church trying to catch his breath from what he refused to call his run down the driveway - well, as close to a run as he could manage with his cane. He took several deep breaths, willing his lungs and heart to slow, and pushed his hands through his hair. Sam wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, pulled in one more steadying deep breath and knocked on Dean’s door.
Dean sat on his sofa staring at the wrapped package in front of him, hoping everything he’d worked on over the last three weeks wouldn’t be for naught. When he heard the knock on the door he was across the room with his hand on the doorknob before the third tap. He flung the door open to see Sam standing on his doorstep, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise for a minute and then quickly morphing into a shy smile as his head dropped, shaggy hair falling over his face.
“Sammy,” Dean breathed, relieved to finally have Sam in front of him and apparently willing to hear him out. Dean’s arms ached to pull Sam in close, bury his nose in Sam’s warm neck and breathe in his scent.
“Hey Dean,” Sam said, and his voice sounded so unsure that Dean didn’t dare to touch him for fear he’d spook the teen.
Dean swallowed at the reminder of where things had been left between them and he looked down at the ground as he spoke. “C-come on in. Uh, have-have a seat.” He motioned at the sofa and Sam nodded, mumbling a “thanks” as he lowered himself onto the cushion. Dean pulled over the chair from his desk to sit facing Sam, their knees almost touching.
Sam looked up at Dean expectantly, and though Dean had had a speech all prepared his mind was suddenly blank. He kept hearing Sam say, No more words, in his head and he knew the words he’d so carefully prepared weren’t going to be what would make a difference to Sam. If anything would get Sam to see how much he meant to Dean, it would be the contents of the box he’d spent the last three weeks putting together.
Dean looked down to the box he held in his hands, simply wrapped in blue paper and tied with a green ribbon. He looked up to meet Sam’s eyes, “Sam…I know no more words can fix things. But I need to say it one more time…I’m sorry I hurt you…and Sammy, I love you. So much.”
Sam sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, he’d really hoped this wouldn’t become another version of the conversation they’d already had. He couldn’t bear it; it hurt too much to keep losing Dean over and over. “Dean, I know…I just…it doesn’t -”
Dean cut Sam off before he had to hear Sam say one more time that it wasn’t enough. “No more words, Sam. Here.” Dean held out the package to his brother, “I spent the last three weeks doing. Just, please, open it before you make up your mind?”
Sam tilted his head to the side as he took in the honesty in Dean’s face. The open vulnerability in those green eyes hooked him and he reached out to accept the gift from Dean’s shaking hands. “Ok, Dean.”
Sam set the box in his lap and his hands shook slightly as he carefully pulled the paper away. He wanted nothing more than for whatever was in this box to change things, but he couldn’t imagine a gift Dean could give him that would erase all the obstacles to their relationship, or that would make Dean better equipped to handle them. He took a deep breath and lifted the lid to peer inside the box.
When his eyes fell on the contents he looked up at Dean, brow furrowed quizzically and head tilted again. “Dean?” He was looking at a stack of papers, documents of some kind.
“Just read them,” Dean prompted hopefully.
Sam lifted the first sheet from the box and held it in front of him. It was a deed…to a house in Illinois…in Dean’s name. When Sam looked closer, he saw a second owner listed - Samuel Campbell. His mouth dropped open and his hand flew up to cover the gape. Dean had bought them a house? In Illinois? Sam’s brain grappled with the information, but he couldn’t make his wheels turn fast enough to make sense of this. “Dean…I-I don’t…What is…?”
Dean smiled, though his nervousness was still etched into every muscle of his body and line on his face. “Keep going, I’ll explain.”
The next sheet Sam lifted was an enrollment form in Evanston Township High School. It too was in Sam’s name. He frowned up at Dean; things were making less sense to him, not more. Was Dean sending him away? Surely Dean didn’t think running away would fix everything. Dean motioned for Sam to keep going, and he picked up the next document. It was a contract, to be a history teacher at Evanston Township High School, for Mr. Dean Winchester. Mister? But Dean wasn’t Mr. Winchester, he was Father Winchester. Not even bothering to look to his brother in question this time, Sam snatched up the next paper from the pile. It was a letter, well, a photocopy of a letter. Sam immediately recognized Dean’s handwriting, and as he read the words, his mouth fell open further and his stomach dropped through his feet.
…The church has meant so much to me, and I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude for what it has given me. However, at this time I must submit my request to resign from the priesthood. My life has developed in a way I never imagined, and I will be rescinding my position at Blue Earth to pursue a career teaching….
The letter continued on, but Sam had already dropped it back into the box. Both hands covered his mouth as he stared at Dean, hazel eyes impossibly wide. He pushed his hands back through his hair and just looked at Dean. His brain had stopped even attempting to process the contents of Dean’s gift and now he needed to hear Dean’s explanation.
Dean took a deep breath and looked for a place to start in the explanation he had promised Sam. “I told you I wanted to be with you, more than anything…but you were right, Sam, words don’t mean anything without action behind them.” He paused to look at Sam, deep into his swirling hazel eyes, “So, I took action, Sammy. It just, it won’t work for us to be together here, so when I started working out the way for us to be together, it started with leaving.”
“But, Dean, you love this place…the school…Pastor Jim. I don’t want you to give up everything -”
Dean cut Sam off again, taking Sam’s hands into his own. “I’m not giving up everything, Sammy, I’m making changes to keep the one thing, the only thing, that truly matters this deeply to me. You. What I love about this place is serving…teaching…helping these kids. So, I found a job teaching. And Pastor Jim, he understands, and just because I move away doesn’t mean he won’t still be an important part of my life.” Dean paused, letting the information sink in for Sam.
Sam’s mind struggled to recover from the impact of the completely unexpected information, but when Dean wrapped his strong hands around Sam’s, the touch brought an immediate sense of comfort. His brain calmed enough for him to work through the information. Dean wanted them to be together enough, wanted Sam enough, to change his entire life. This was so much more than a few words whispered between them. Sam’s heart swelled and he couldn’t stop the tears that trickled free. Dean loved him.
Dean’s shoulders relaxed as soon as he saw Sam smile through the tears that had tracked through his dimples. He smiled at the younger man as he squeezed his hands, and Sam leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to Dean’s lips. Dean’s hand gently cupped the back of Sam’s head as he carefully kissed him back, letting their foreheads rest together after. “Love you, Sammy,” Dean whispered.
“I love you too, Dean.” Sam closed his eyes against the overwhelming wave of emotions. He just breathed in and out for a minute, before opening his eyes again and gently pulling from Dean’s hold. “Why Illinois?”
Dean chuckled a little. “Well, I…I plan to keep hunting, or at least keep helping with hunts. I can’t give that up.”
Sam broke in to say, “I wouldn’t want you to, Dean.”
“So, I wanted a sort of central state. And Northwestern has a great pre-law program…I remembered you said you wanted to be a lawyer…work in family court to help other kids that ‘nobody wanted.’” Dean parroting back words Sam had only tossed out once in a conversation Sam could barely even recall touched his already raw and overwhelmed heart.
“You remembered that?”
“’Course I did, Sammy.” Dean smiled, and cupped Sam’s jaw in his hand, running his thumb over the high cheekbone. “There’s one more thing in the box.”
Sam jumped like a kid at Christmas, pulling out the papers he’d already read to get to the bottom of the box. There was another small, flat box and Sam pulled it out, dropped the larger box to the floor and slowly pulled the top from the small box. Inside, resting on white cotton batting were two silver rings. Sam took in a sharp breath as he looked up at Dean, brow furrowed once again.
“The other reason I picked Illinois is…the age of consent is 17. I know you’re young…and I don’t mean tomorrow…but someday, Sammy…someday I want to marry you. I want us to have our whole lives together. So these are just…sort of a promise…that I won’t ever give you up, won’t ever give up on you and that I will always show you how much you mean to me.” Dean’s face had blushed bright red under his freckles, and Sam couldn’t think of anything he’d ever found more adorable.
“Yes.” Sam said, wide dimpled grin spreading across his face.
“Yes?” Dean asked. “Yes to what?”
Sam laughed and leaned forward to throw his hands around Dean’s neck. “To all of it. Yes to moving away with you, yes to marrying you…someday. Yes to you, Dean. Yes to us.”
Dean threw his head back, laughing and whooping. He stood from his chair, bringing Sam up with him. Sam laughed with his brother, wrapping his long arms around Dean’s broad shoulders. It was almost more than he could believe, everything he could have hoped for, wrapped up in a box.
As soon as Sam’s feet returned to the ground, he wrapped his large hands around Dean’s head and pulled him into a bone-shaking kiss. The power and emotion in it left them both breathless and tingling and as their lips parted, Sam murmured, “I think you’d better lock that door.”
Dean groaned low in his throat as he reluctantly pulled from Sam’s arms to lock the door, throwing the deadbolt as well, just to be sure. He made the trip back to Sam in two giant strides and wrapped the young man up in his arms, pushing them both towards the bedroom. Their lips continued to slide together, tongues twisting and dancing as tangled legs made their way to the bed. Sam freed one long leg enough to kick the bedroom door shut as they passed through.
As soon as they stood next to Dean’s bed, their hands flew to each other’s clothes, popping buttons through button-holes, dragging zippers down and pushing away fabric until Sam and Dean faced each other, Dean in his boxer briefs and Sam naked since he still went without underwear most days.
Sam leaned forward, hands resting on Dean’s hips as he licked up the line of freckles on the side of Dean’s neck. When his mouth reached Dean’s ear his tongue traced the shell and he whispered, “God, I missed you, Dean.”
“Missed you too, Sammy. Nnngh!” Dean moaned as Sam’s lips found their way to a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.
Sam licked down Dean’s throat, sucking at the skin over his collarbone. “So good…gonna taste every inch of you, Dean. Every. Inch.” He punctuated each of the last words with an open-mouthed kiss to warm skin. Sam laved his tongue over freckled shoulders and down past the tattoo on Dean’s chest, stopping to close his mouth over a sensitive nipple. He teased the bud until Dean was panting with pleasure and then Sam gently pushed Dean down on the bed.
Dean scooted back onto the mattress and then surged up to bring Sam’s mouth back to his for another kiss. Dean sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth as he pulled Sam down on top him. Sam braced himself over Dean, weight resting on his arms as he lay between Dean’s legs, his naked dick pressing against Dean’s hard length through the fabric of boxer briefs now damp with precome. The kiss deepened as they searched out friction rutting against each other.
Sam yanked back from the kiss breathlessly and forced himself to stop grinding against Dean, pushing up onto all fours and hushing Dean’s answering whimper of protest. He bent his head to Dean’s chest and kissed a line down his abs, looking up at Dean through his bangs as his lips met the golden trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of Dean’s underwear. Sam’s fingers hooked under the band and Dean lifted his hips so Sam could pull them free.
The boxer briefs were tossed onto the floor as Sam returned to his path towards Dean’s cock. He licked up the underside, dipping his tongue into the slit when he reached the head. Dean moaned above him as Sam wrapped his lips around the head, sucking briefly before pulling off to let the blood-heavy organ slap wetly against Dean’s belly. Sam grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and urged Dean’s hips into the air again to push it underneath his brother.
“Sammy…what are-“ Dean’s question was cut off by a surprised moan when he felt Sam’s tongue tease over the sensitive skin of his balls. Sam licked over each one before sucking them gently into his mouth as Dean slowly came apart above him.
“Every inch, Dean,” Sam said as he released the tender flesh. His mouth continued down, tongue licking over the skin of his perineum and then back further.
Dean threw his head back and his hands fisted in the sheets when he felt the hot wet tip of Sam’s tongue at his entrance. He teased and licked and traced around the furled muscle until it relaxed enough to press inside. Sam soaked up the sounds of the steady stream of moans and broken words Dean let out between panted breaths as his tongue fucked in and out of Dean’s hole.
Dean’s mind was lost to the utter bliss of sensation in his body created by Sam’s mouth. Sounds he couldn’t even be sure were words babbled from his parted lips, his hips undulating back against Sam’s face. Sam continued to alternate fucking his tongue into Dean with licking and sucking at his rim until Dean finally found a single word. “More,” he breathed out, and then, “Please…Sammy….n-need more.”
A lascivious smile curled Sam’s lips, he was only too happy to comply with Dean’s request, but he needed to be certain of what Dean really wanted. “You sure?”
There was no hesitation from Dean. “Yes! God, yes. I’m sure.”
Sam thrust his tongue in and out of Dean a few more times before pulling back to ask, “Do you want more of this? Or something else?” Dean only whimpered in response. Sam placed a kiss to Dean’s inner thigh, “Need you to use your words, Dean. Give it to you, whatever you want…but if we’re going to do this, I need to know for sure it’s what you want.”
Dean heaved a few breaths, finally forcing his mouth to create words. “F-fingers. Want your fingers.”
Sam cursed under his breath as his cock twitched at hearing those words on Dean’s plush lips.
Dean reached to the nightstand and pulled a small bottle out dropping it near Sam’s head. When Sam saw it was lube he quirked an eyebrow at his brother who just shrugged as he blushed ever so slightly. Sam grinned and flicked open the cap, pouring some onto his fingers.
Sam traced his finger around the softened rim of Dean’s hole and then pushed it in to the first knuckle, giving Dean a beat to catch his breath before pushing in the rest of the way. He returned the attentions of his tongue to Dean’s balls and enjoyed the sounds coming from Dean above him. Minutes later Dean was again moaning out, “More. Please, Sam, more.”
Sam added a second finger, fucking them in and out of Dean’s channel until he felt it relax enough to crook his long fingers forward into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Dean cried out as his back arched up from the bed and the sight of Dean coming apart so thoroughly beneath him made Sam’s already hard cock leak.
“Sammy,” Dean pleaded above him. “Want more...want-want you.”
“You got me, Dean. ‘M right here.”
Dean shook his head, bringing his eyes to meet Sam’s. The green had darkened and all but disappeared around the lust-widened pupil, but Sam could still see the plea there. “No…want you…inside me.”
Sam swallowed hard. Just the thought of what Dean was asking had him so near to coming that he had to grip the base of his cock tight. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. He leaned up over Dean’s body, faces even and hazel eyes searching out the emotions in his brother’s eyes. “Dean, I-I need to know-I want you so bad, but only if you’re ready for this. You gotta say it. One more time, baby; tell me what you want so I can give it to you.”
Dean licked his lips, puffy and red from kisses. He took Sam’s face in his hands and brought him down for a kiss that Sam felt down to his soul. “I’m ready. I want this, Sammy. I want your body inside my body…the way your heart is in my heart.” Sam teared up and as he sniffed a little Dean added, “Now get your dick in me before I turn into a complete sap.”
Sam huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Such a romantic.” He planted another kiss on Dean’s smirking lips as he added a third finger. Dean stiffened for just a second before his body relaxed and Sam worked his fingers in and out, stretching and scissoring until he was satisfied that his brother was open enough.
Dean was left with an aching emptiness when Sam pulled his fingers free and went to his jeans, getting a condom out of his wallet. He rolled it on as Dean watched hungrily, then knelt between Dean’s spread legs and poured more lube into his hand to slick his cock. Dean opened his legs wider, leaving himself exposed and vulnerable to Sam, but when Sam looked into his eyes he saw no shame, only love and trust.
Sam lined himself up with Dean’s opening and leaned down to kiss Dean as he slowly pushed forward. It was a tight fit and Sam had to fight to maintain control, but eventually with small gentle pushes forward, Sam was fully surrounded by Dean’s heat. He stopped and watched his brother’s face as Dean took deep breaths, allowing his body to accept Sam’s large cock.
After a few moments, the burn eased. Dean put his hands on Sam’s hips and shifted his own to take Sam deeper as he said, “Move.”
Sam had been barely holding out and with the okay from Dean, he pulled back until only the head of his cock stretched Dean’s rim, then thrust forward, slow and deep, both men groaning at the sweet stretch and friction. Several more slow thrusts and an adjustment of Sam’s angle had Dean writhing and begging beneath him. The sight of this gorgeous man completely lost to his passion for Sam, stretched around his cock, fair skin flushed and shimmering with sweat pushed Sam precariously close to the edge.
“God, Dean, want to…but, fuck you’re so tight. Not…gonna last.”
“Me too. It’s okay.” Dean wrapped his hand around his bloody-heavy cock, knowing his own orgasm wouldn’t hold off as long he wanted either. “Let go. Do it, Sammy.”
A moan pushed from deep in Sam’s throat as he began to thrust faster, fucking into Dean hard enough to push his body up the bed. Dean stroked himself faster, his squeeze around the head fell in time with a forceful thrust right into his prostate and he knew he was about to come. Just one more push from Sam into that spot and Dean was shooting hot and wet up his own chest, calling Sam’s name.
Sam felt Dean’s hole tighten around him as his brother climaxed and he felt his own explosion start in his spine and spread. His hips thrust erratically, Dean’s name pushed from his lips and he plunged deep into Dean as he came.
He collapsed onto the firm body beneath him and they held each other as their breathing slowed. Sam pulled back, slowly freeing his cock from Dean’s body as Dean tried not to wince. He removed the condom, tied it off and tossed it into the trash. When he realized they were both sticky with sweat and Dean’s come, he grabbed his shirt from the floor and wiped the worst of the mess away.
As Sam dropped the shirt to the floor, Dean grabbed him and pulled him back down to the bed. Sam nestled into Dean, resting his head on his chest, tucking under his chin. Dean carded his hand through Sam’s hair and Sam stretched up for one last kiss before snuggling back into his spot and wrapping one long arm around Dean’s waist.
“So when do we leave?” Sam asked.
Dean smiled as he hugged Sam tighter. “January.”
Epilogue