Fic: Never Let You Go (Part Two) - Sam/Dean - NC-17
Having nightmares Sam was half way used to, but having them so badly that they kept both he and Dean awake was something new. After Sam had finally given up on the search for clues and went to bed, he had woken them both up a few hours later, yelling something about Dean in terror. He couldn’t remember what it was about, just that he was looking for Dean and couldn’t find him. By the next night Sam wanted nothing more than to roll back into his brother’s bed, but Dean didn’t offer and even though Sam knew that it would keep the nightmares away, he wasn’t going to beg to sleep with his brother like some five year old.
Two days later Sam was walking out to the car with Dean right behind him when he noticed the same quietness that had happened with the woman in the graveyard. This time there was no graveyard in sight. He was scared to turn to look at Dean, because what if he wasn’t there? Sam wasn’t ready to live without Dean. Instead, Sam watched a man walk up to him in the same kind of odd clothes as the woman had, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence.
When he was close, Sam could tell he was just as beautiful as the woman. He also had dark hair and the same silvery-green eyes. They must be siblings, Sam figured.
“Sir,” the man spoke to Sam. “Wilt thou treat with us?”
If Sam hadn’t been so freaked out he probably would have rolled his eyes. “I told your friend no.”
The man smiled at Sam and it took his breath away. How could even a spirit be so beautiful? “You have yet to answer me.”
Sam wanted to hear Dean again, breathing, walking behind him, and he was afraid that if he said yes then he wouldn’t. That made the decision easy. “No.”
There was no anger, just something like sadness or regret in the man’s eyes and then the world started working again and the man was gone.
Sam frantically swung around to find Dean was right behind him. Dean ran into him as Sam put his hands up to stop him. Then it was as if the world had stopped again. Dean’s face was inches from his, their breath mingling between them. Sam’s eyes flicked down to Dean’s mouth. Dean’s tongue came out and Sam couldn’t stop staring, his own tongue licking his lips.
Then the moment was gone and Dean was stepping back. “What was that?”
“You didn’t see this guy either?” Not that Sam had really expected Dean to see him but still, he’d been right here.
Dean shook his head, that concerned light coming back into his eyes. Sam turned and walked to the car, getting in and sitting shotgun, even though Dean had agreed to let him drive. But if Sam was seeing things, there might be more visions and the last thing Sam wanted was a vision while he was driving. Talk about a nightmare situation.
Sliding into the car, Dean gave him a look and held his hand out for the key. Dean understood why he needed to drive, at least Sam hoped he did. Sliding a Metallica tape into the player they headed for the next town to hit up the bars. They needed cash and hustling was a quick way to get some, even Sam had to admit it. They had learned young that if you were staying in one place for very long, scamming the locals wasn’t the best idea, but western Washington was so well populated that five miles down the road there was usually another town. That made finding a spot to hustle up some cash easier than where they had been in Nevada, the only town within fifty miles had only one bar. Not much scamming had taken place.
Sam sat in the Impala outside a brewery in Mukilteo with the laptop open. They were close enough to the ferry docks that he could see the ferries as they left and came in. It was a clear night and if he looked carefully he could see where the ferry docked on the other side of the straight, about two and a half miles away if he guessed right. People watching wasn’t one of his favorite things to do anymore but when he had been young, he had loved coming to places like this with his dad and Dean. He would sit in the car and watch people going about their lives. He would wonder if any of them had lost their mom like he had. If any of them thought about him or would if they saw him. After he had learned about what his dad hunted, he had wondered if anyone else he saw knew what was out there, and if they didn’t, what they would do if they did.
Shaking his head out of his reverie, he did some research on the tattoo he had got. Figuring out that he was seeing people that other people weren’t, he looked into the second sight, and religions of the goddess, specifically the triple goddess. Sighing, he finally gave up trying to figure this out by himself. Picking up the phone, he almost dialed Missouri, catching himself at the last minute because of the time difference. She would be in bed and unless Sam was dying, he wouldn’t wake up Missouri, not for a million dollars, thank you very much.
Clicking the laptop shut, he wondered if he should go in. He really didn’t feel like being social tonight and Dean was so good at it. Sam looked up just as Dean was thrown out of the bar. Picking himself up, he headed over to the Impala in his ‘I’m in a hurry but I’m not going to show it’ walk.
Dean got in and started the car up, pulling out of the parking lot. He didn’t talk until they were almost back to Snohomish. “Hustled them.” Apparently it was Dean’s turn to state the obvious.
“And?”
“I made it obvious at the end, so that a couple of the guys got angry and started swinging. In the confusion, I grabbed the pot.” Dean pulled out a roll of what looked like twenties and tens. He pushed it at Sam. “Count it.”
Fingering through the bills, Sam came to a total and looked up at Dean, a shocked look on his face. There was no way a bar like that could have had a grand to throw around. Dean grinned at him.
“That’s why I made it obvious; there was no way those guys were going to let me leave with that much, even if I won fair and square.”
Sam nodded and tucked some cash in a few places in the Impala, then he organized the rest and handed it back to Dean, who didn’t even look at it as he shoved it into his pocket. Sam wanted to talk about his tattoo. He debated it in his head the last bit of the drive and he found he couldn’t. Dean was so happy and if Sam brought up how he figured he could see ‘invisible’ people now it would just bring his brother down.
Dean was still grinning as he pulled into the motel parking lot. Parking in front of their room, Dean picked up Sam’s laptop and held the door for his brother.
“I’m not helpless.”
“No,” Dean agreed with him. “But you do look like shit. You should have said something, Sammy.”
‘Like what?’ Sam wanted to ask but didn’t and he spent another night tossing and turning, alternately cursing Dean and crying out to him. Dean obviously didn’t sleep well either.
The week was up and they headed back to Sean’s place. Pushing the door open, even though there was a closed sign in the window, Dean glanced around. Sharing a smile with Sean, Dean walked in, Sam right behind him.
“Got the last of the ink in today, we planned this just right.” Sean looked closely at the two of them. “You guys look like shit.”
“Haven’t been sleeping well,” Dean admitted and he got a sharp look from Sean.
“Nightmares?” He looked at Sam who nodded.
“Because of the tattoo,” Sean said. “I guess I could have warned you this might happen. Seen it before with others who have got a Talent.”
Sam could tell by the way Sean pronounced it that it was a big T on talent, like a gift or curse.
“The tattoo messes with their flow? Chi? I’m not sure. But it takes a few days to settle down and meanwhile there might be floating tables, exploding glasses, or nightmares. Guess I figured you boys knew about it.” Sean gave an apologetic shrug.
“Would it cause you to see things?” Dean asked. “You know, that weren’t there?”
“That tattoo? No way. You might see things that you wouldn’t have noticed before,” Sean said as he motioned Sam over to the chair. Sam stripped his shirt off and Sean took a look at Sam’s back. “Looks good. You’ve been taking good care of it. A little dry, but I’ve got some lotion here that will help with that.” Sean grabbed a bottle of Lubriderm and put some on his back.
“No pain?” Sean asked and Sam shook his head. “Good, let’s get this cube started.” He pulled Dean’s drawing out. With an amazing amount of skill, he picked the spot for the center circle. Grabbing an iron, which Sam had learned were the inking guns, he careful drew a circle on Sam’s skin. Changing colors, he slowly worked through all thirteen circles.
He looked up at Sam, “You okay?”
Sam nodded.
“I’d like to get as much done today as I can, because it will need to heal before I can ink the rest.”
Sam just nodded again, breathing through his nose. His jaw was clenched tight. Sean must have seen it because he made Sam take a break, walk around, relax. Dean sat watching and talking tattoos with Sean as Sam tried to do just that. Finally he sat back down and nodded at Sean, who started on the outer lines and slowly making his way inward. Sean stopped because, he explained, the detail would be lost in the healing.
Sam winced as Sean slathered the tattoo with what Sam now knew was an anti-bacterial cream. After putting bandages on, he helped Sam to his feet.
“I should wait at least six weeks before finishing but I get the feeling you boys don’t have that long, so I’ll see you in four and we’ll check it. I might be able to do it in five at the earliest. You guys going to be around for a while then?” It was really less of a question and more of a statement.
Dean nodded and told Sean thanks again. Sam and he made it back to the motel without running into any pretty people who made things stop or Sam having any more visions and they both headed inside. Sam collapsed on his bed, watching as Dean again checked the door and windows and laid more salt across the door, where they had disturbed it.
Salt didn’t help the nightmares and Sam woke up from a particularly bloody one with Dean shaking him. Half awake, he asked Dean if he would sleep with him. Dean gave him a look but motioned for Sam to scoot over. Sliding into bed, Dean wrapped his arm around Sam and Sam for once fell right back to sleep and slept the night through, not a nightmare in sight. Too tired to worry about being close to his brother, his body fell into its oldest habits of comfort by being near Dean. Sam didn’t stop to question why, he was just happy to fall asleep and stay asleep with no nightmares.
A week and a different salt and burn later, Sam woke to a knock on the door. He stumbled over and looked out the peep hole. A child. Looking around to see if he could spot parents, he gave a huge sigh and cracked the door open. As soon as he did, he knew he was in the presence of another of those people. Sam couldn’t hear the traffic he could see on the road, all he could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears and his breath that rasped loudly past his throat. The child looked up at him with large eyes filled with tears.
“Wilt thou treat with us?”
It broke Sam’s heart to tell the pleading child no but he needed to think of Dean, first, always. Sam shook his head and one perfect tear rolled down the child’s cheek and he disappeared.
“Who’s that, Sammy?” Dean slurred from the bed, sleep thick in his voice.
“No one at all,” Sam said and shut the door.
Dean patted the mattress beside him. “’m back to bed.” He had noticed that they had got their first decent night’s sleep in a while when they had been asleep together.
Sam wasn’t sure if it was the nightmares or lack of them but he had been remarkably comfortable sleeping next to Dean. He knew that somewhere in his twisted mind he still wanted his brother but his relief of not having to face nightmare after nightmare or two days without sleep, (which he had also tried) was much more of a relief than a turn on.
“’kay,” he murmured as he slid in beside Dean and fell quickly back to sleep, his arm slung over his brother.
Sam was regretful when Dean wasn’t wrapped around him when he woke up. Instantly feeling guilty for his regret, he got up and went to brush away the bad taste that feeling left in his mouth. Noticing that Dean was gone, Sam figured he went to get some more doughnuts or something. The salt line was scuffed but not broken at the door, he noted.
Finishing up, Sam walked back out and saw a slip of paper in the door. He looked at it closely before he opened the door and let the piece of parchment flutter to the floor. That’s what it was, true parchment. When he had been at Stanford he had had to use the ‘rare book’ collection twice. He had been given training, set in a special room with filtered air, and had looked over scrolls of law decrees from the Album Palaeographicum and they had been parchment.
Grabbing a tissue, he lifted the parchment and turned it so he could read it. In large, ornate, flowing letters it read :
If thou willst not treat with us then thou mayst parley to retrievest what is thine.
It took Sam a moment to work through the syntax and grammar to get the meaning but the moment he did he dropped the parchment and looked outside for Dean. He called for his brother even though he knew he wouldn’t be answered. Dialing his cell number got a ‘this subscriber is out of service range’ message and then he began to panic. His chest hurt where he had the tattoo and his heart hurt because Dean was gone. They’d taken him.
Sitting down, he did what he should have done days ago and called Missouri.
It was almost like a confessional. Missouri would ask him what he did and he would tell her, a little more each time. In a backwards, totally confusing way starting from Dean disappearing and then about the note and then about the people.
“Wait,” Missouri said. “Tell me everything you can remember about the woman, the man, and the child that you saw and Dean didn’t.”
Sam told her about the unearthly beauty, the way the world seemed to stop, and the way they talked. How they had asked him if he would treat with them.
Missouri stopped him. “Exact words if you can remember.”
“Wilt thou treat with us,” Sam said the words with little inflection.
“These people, they have silver eyes?”
“How’d you -?” Was all Sam got out before Missouri interrupted him.
“Sam Winchester. Now you listen and you listen good. Your brother’s been taken by the fae. They want you to do something.”
Sam snorted. Of course they wanted him to do something. Then he stopped. Had she said fae? As in fairies? He couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“So help me, if you don’t listen I will beat you with my spoon. You need to find him fast, the faster the better. They appeal to your wants, your desires. If your brother eats anything, drinks anything, then he’s stuck. Are you listening, Sam? They want to deal but if Dean hasn’t done anything you can walk out with him”
Sam nodded and then realized that she couldn’t see him. “Yes, ma’am. But how?”
“Think, boy. Use the few brains that you seem to have and think. Did you get the Lemos tattoo?”
“Yeah.”
“And the other?”
“Little over half way,” Sam told her, pressing his hand against his bandage and thinking he should change it.
Missouri’s voice changed, like she had an idea. “Did’ja ever meditate at college?”
“Some,” Sam admitted.
“You sit and concentrate on your brother . . . meditate on him, try and focus all that energy that you can feel now. Listen to your heart, Sam, and it will lead you to Dean.” And with that Missouri hung up.
Sam realized that she hadn’t told him what to do if Dean had done anything. Sighing, he concentrated and relaxed into his meditation position. Sitting on the bed cross-legged, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He did it until the only thing he could hear was his breath and his heartbeat, thudding slowly in the background. Feeling the energy tingling at the base of his spine, Sam thought about Dean, concentrated on him, eyes closed.
He felt something like a tug, it seemed to start in his spine where the tattoo was and flowed up his spine and around his chest to his heart and then flowed out and Sam opened his eyes. A line of sparkly light went out from his chest and flowed outside. When he closed his eyes, he could still see it.
He knew it was Dean, somehow. He just knew it. Getting up, he walked out the door. Then he walked back into the room and grabbed the key to the Impala. Sliding in to the car, Sam turned the key and backed out and set out to follow this light. He drove for at least an hour following the light up into the mountains. Parking at the Barlow Point trail head, he saw he needed a forest service pass. Shit, the last thing they needed was the Impala getting towed. Sam knew that he was worrying about the Impala rather than being afraid of what had happened to Dean, and he was fine with that. He would have time to worry after he found him.
Digging around, he found a forest service ID card that he slid into the window. They might leave him a note but they wouldn’t tow it. Sam liked that about rangers over the police. The police would tow it because they could. Looking at the trail in front of him, he pulled out a backpack that he put salt, silver, and crosses. Hell he took the stakes, too, because he wasn’t sure what would take out a fairy. In tales they talked of iron being anathema to them so he also picked up the iron knife that Dad had made and slid it into his pocket. Shoving a shotgun in with a few of the ‘blessed’ shells he had, he grabbed water and some power bars, also the topographical map of the area that he’d had printed at Kinkos on his way up here. Not knowing if he was in for a long hike or a short one, he packed some clothes and also shoved the note that he had got into the bag. Zipping it up, he settled it on his back, locked the Impala and headed down a trail that had the light on it.
Walking for about an hour, the path he was on ended at a campground. The light turned left and went across a bridge. Within minutes he was passing signs that warned of washouts and that he proceeded at his own risk. Then he saw signs that said there used to be a town here. Monte Cristo. Apparently it used to be a big mining town. He and Dean had banished more than one spirit from places like this. However, this one wasn’t haunted, just empty. Trees and open space with a few items scattered around. There were a couple of cabins tucked under the trees but they all said private property on them.
Following the light, he walked past a sign that read Glacier Basin Trail trailhead and there was a registration box. He paused and signed a slip with the name that was on the id back at the car and then followed the light to the right and, following an old pipe, he climbed until he reached a flat spot. Catching his breath, Sam looked around. The light kept going up, following some stairs, and he climbed after it.
Crossing an old railroad grade, he climbed some more, stopping one other time to catch his breath. He looked around and what a sight to see. It was as if he had gone back in time. There wasn’t a power line in sight, just forest and rivers and patches of fields and mountains. Pulling out the map, he plotted his route so far. He must be near Poodle Dog Pass. He checked twice, thinking about how much fun Dean would have had mocking a name like that.
The light went up and then to the right so he followed but he was tiring. Stopping, he looked down to his right. The light and the path it followed led down to a small lake that was glistening in the sunlight. Pulling the map out again, he followed the trail and found Silver Lake. The light followed the trail around and then cut off into the woods. Pulling the water out of the pack, Sam took a big drink and then headed down to the lake and off to the woods.
Three hours later, Sam stood in front of a seemingly impassible barrier of blackthorn bushes. He knew they weren’t impassible because Dean had clearly passed through; the light went right into the deepest part of the thicket. He looked for footprints, a small door . . . he didn’t know what.
He paced the entire thicket. It was a rough circle and he figured there must be room for a football field inside it. Getting back to where he started, he finally stopped and sat his backpack down. Pulling out the parchment, he looked at it for a moment and then up at the wall of bushes in front of him. For a moment something flickered behind it, it had just been blank space up until then. It was as if the sky was filled with a huge tree, then it was gone and the odd blankness replaced it.
“I’m here to parley,” he finally said after taking out the note and re-reading it, and the bushes parted in front of him. He couldn’t see where they ended but, grabbing his pack, he walked in.
He was immediately surrounded by silence. No longer hearing the birds or even the sound of the wind as it blew kind of freaked him out but it also told him he was heading in the right direction. The walls of the passageway grew slowly closer together and just when he was sure he had walked at least the diameter of the circle of blackthorns, he exited them.
He was greeted with cheering. There were also a few boos but Sam was too stunned to notice. It was as if the world was suddenly populated by long-haired, silver-eyed people who were applauding him. Him, of all things. Then he noticed the man and woman that he had seen back in the real world.
Walking up to him they smiled, like they hadn’t kidnapped his brother to get him here.
“Samuel, I want to welcome you to Silverthorn. I am . . . we,” the man motioned to the group around them, “are so pleased.”
“What happened to the thee’s and thou’s?”
“That is the Tradition,” the woman said. “But come, you must be tired.”
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was flat and threatening.
The child that had come to him at the hotel room approached him and, looking around, he could see no other children. The people touched him almost as if he was a good luck charm. “Sammy, right?”
Sam nodded. He wasn’t going to argue with a child that his name was Sam.
“Come, I’ll take you to Dean. He misses you.” And the child held out his hand. “My name is Connor, by the way.”
The situation was surreal but Sam nodded and took Connor’s hand. He finally looked around at where he was. It was really dark, almost overcast, and he could see small houses tucked in with the trees, almost a part of them, and then he looked up.
“Sammy, wake up. Please, wake up.” Connor was leaning over him and Sam focused on the boy and not what was stretching above him. “It took Dean five days to notice it,” the boy confided.
Five days? That didn’t sound right. Dean had disappeared this morning. Sam hated thinking that he might be a coward so he took a deep breath and focused on what lay beyond Connor. It was a tree, his brain told him so but it also told him it was impossible. It was flat out fucking impossible. The umbrella of the tree filled the sky, as far as he could see. It was taller than the mountains that surrounded them. Hell, if it were real, they could have seen it from their motel room. The world would be talking about it.
Sam stopped. The world, he thought, and looked at the tree closely. Holy fucking shit. He pushed himself up, walked closer and just looked at the trunk. Well, the part of it he could see, anyway. Realizing it was a root, there was a mass of huge roots digging into the ground, he looked up and way above his head the tree actually started.
The small boy patted the root in front of Sam. “Iubhar,” Connor named it. “The world tree,” he added with a small smile.”
“But there’s . . .” Sam started and then shut his mouth with a snap. Obviously there was a world tree. Was there an Ouroboros too? Sam shook his head. This was impressive but he was here for Dean.
Connor took his hand again and this time Sam didn’t faint as they walked under the huge branches that rose above his head. They came to one of the houses that looked like it was a part of one of the trees and, getting closer, Sam decided that it was, but nothing had been cut. It was as if the tree grew precisely as needed. Walking in, Sam’s eyes were drawn to a bed in another room, to Dean.
Letting out a breath that he felt like he had been holding since he had found the note, Sam walked across the entry and through another room until he stood before Dean. The sight of him was like a punch in the gut. Sam had forgotten in the whole ‘getting Dean back’ thing that he needed him like a fish needs water. He also felt something relax and he realized that the golden light had vanished. “Dean,” he breathed out and touched his brother as if to reassure himself that he was real.
Dean’s eyes slowly opened. “Sammy.” Then he seemed to realize he wasn’t dreaming or whatever. Quickly getting up, he pulled Sam into his embrace.
Sam leaned into his brother, wrapping his long arms around him. “Dean,” he said again.
“I brought him, Dean,” Connor spoke up.
“Great job you did too, little man.” Dean let Sam step back but kept a hand on him.
“Mum said you weren’t…”
“Supposed to call you little man,” Dean and Connor finished together.
“Because he’s not a man.” The beautiful woman from the graveyard walked into the room that was quickly becoming too crowded. “I’ll give you a moment with Samuel but then we need to speak.” Taking a hold of Connor’s hand, she turned and walked out of the room.
“What the fuck, dude?” Sam tried to keep the anger out of his voice. He had been scared that he would never see Dean again and here Dean was, joking with the people who took him.
“Sam, it’s not like that. They’re cool. It’s okay.”
“What the fuck have you been smoking? It is not fucking okay. They took you. I thought . . .” He gripped Dean’s hand, unable to finish his sentence.
“I see that. I’m fine, Sammy, I am. They didn’t hurt me. They’re good people and they need our help.”
Sam looked his brother over; he didn’t appear to be harmed. “Connor said that it took you five days to notice the Tree. How long have you been here?”
“About a month. I was wondering what was taking you so long, but I knew you’d come.”
“Dean, you disappeared this morning.” There was tales of time passing differently inside ‘fairy mounds’ and this was somewhat more than a mound. “And what the fuck was up with the ‘Sam, they took me and they’re dangerous’?” Anger was prevalent in Sam’s voice.
“Oh, you heard that, did you?”
“That was the vision I had in the fucking parking lot, before you were gone. When you disappeared I expected the worst. But no, here you sit, friends with them.”
“Just calm down. It’s cool. I’m sorry the vision scared you. Hell, when they took me I might have been a little scared. But then I got here, and well, tell me that you can’t feel it.” Dean was being calm and in control and it threw him.
Sam paused and for a moment he just listened to his feelings. Calming down, he was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of peace. He let out his breath. “Peace.”
“Peace,” Dean agreed. “How many times in our lives have we felt peace? Well, you might have more than me,” he admitted. “But, Sam, it’s here. It penetrates everything these people do.”
Nodding, Sam was, well to be honest, he was speechless. Dean and peace were not two words that he usually put together. Remembering what Missouri had said, he asked if Dean had eaten anything. The look he got told him that clearly Dean considered him an idiot.
“A month, Sam, what do you think?”
“Stupid question.”
“Stupid question,” Dean agreed.
“Missouri said -” Sam sighed, of course he’d fucked everything up, like usual. “She said you’d be stuck here if you ate or drank anything.”
It was Dean’s turn to sigh. “Sam, I think Missouri was right, I am stuck here. Not because of anything I’ve eaten but because I want to help them, I want to save this place, these people. Come, talk with them. Please, just give ‘em a chance.”
Looking closely at Dean, Sam noticed that he was more relaxed than Sam could ever recall. There was a stillness that had been missing ever since he had made the deal to sell his soul for Sam’s life. It was as if Dean, for the time being, had just put all that aside. Maybe he could. If he stayed here, then maybe his year would never be up, or maybe it would just be over that much more quickly.
“Okay, for you, Dean, only for you.”
“Great!” Dean clapped him on the back and led him out into the other room.
“Samuel, Dean,” the woman greeted them both.
“Sam, this is Bridget, and that is Cael. You know Connor’s name already.” Dean nodded at the boy.
Sam looked over the three of them. Bridget had risen when they walked in the room but she had been on the floor, playing with Connor. Cael was still seated on the floor with Connor. Noticing that her gown was split front and back and she had on pants underneath that appeared, to Sam at least, to be what Jessica had called harem pants.
“Nice to meet you.” Sam nodded at all of them.
“Will you listen to our petition?” Bridget asked.
“Can I stop you?” Sam asked and was jabbed in the side hard, by Dean.
“Yes, you can. We need your help, Sam. Something that can only be given freely. If you don’t want to help, you can leave.”
“Just like that? I can walk out with Dean? No attempts to make me feel guilty?”
“Yes, just like that. But, you will never know why we needed you, and you alone, Samuel Winchester.”
Well, damn. Now Sam’s curiosity was digging at him and he bet that she knew it. He glanced at Dean and was surprised to find him not trying to influence him either way. “Dean?”
“I already told you I want to help.”
Sam nodded and thought. If this was just a trap it was a pretty elaborate one. If you did favors for the fae, didn’t they owe you something? Maybe Sam could get some help with Dean’s deal.
“I offer my help,” he said.
The smiles that broke out on everyone’s faces were amazing. Sam was quite literally breathless until Dean whispered in his ear. “Breathe, Sam.” The hot air flowing over his ear and neck sent shivers down his spine and raised goosebumps on his neck. Sam took a breath and rubbed at his neck, feeling awkwardly aroused.
Index, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four