FIC: The Journey: Love Sick 4/?
Title: The Journey: Love Sick
Authors: sasskitten and jeyhawk
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Summary: Dean and Sam continue their journey, learning more about each other, and themselves, as they encounter a small town with strange going ons.
Disclaimer: We don’t own Supernatural, we make no money from it, it’s just for fun.
Beta: rhodynne
Note: This follows directly from The Journey: Mill Stones. The Journey is an ongoing series written in 'episodes' of about five chapters. So every five chapters or so it will change its nameaccording to the new adventure they are setting out on. Just wanted to let you all know.
All the earlier parts can be found here.
Chapter Four
Waking up with Dean snuggled to his side was something Sam hadn't expected would happen in a million years, but there he was sleeping fitfully next to Sam with one hand still on his brow. Sam couldn't deny it felt nice to be sharing a bed with someone again, but he wouldn't have thought that person would be Dean. He didn't quite understand his feelings and attitudes towards Dean. He'd never been homophobic but he was pretty sure that he would be wildly uneasy if another guy hit on him. Dean got away with it all the time though and to be honest he kind of missed it when Dean didn't. Maybe it was just that he liked having his ego stroked, maybe it was something else, but it was sure as hell confusing the shit out of him.
Taking care not to wake Dean, Sam slid out of bed and went into the bathroom, cleaning the toilet, taking a shower and brushing his teeth about a million times. The headache was almost gone, only noticeable as a slight twinge behind his temples and he was ravenously hungry. The migraines might be terrible and unexplainable, but they never lasted for very long. As he walked out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him.
"You feel okay?" He asked trying to sound casual, but Sam was pretty sure he'd scared the crap out of Dean last night.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Thanks for..."
"Don't mention it," Dean said gruffly. "Just try not to do it again. Okay?"
Sam gave him a crooked smile. "I can't promise, as much as I'd love to."
Dean nodded. "You should have told me you weren't feeling well," he said. "We could have made an early night and gone poking around today instead."
"I was feeling well," Sam said. "It started after we'd been to the school, but it wasn't very bad. I thought it was just a normal headache."
"I'm taking a shower," Dean said, changing the subject. "Then we'll grab some breakfast."
"Kay," Sam responded as he turned his back to Dean and started rummaging through his clothes bags; he looked forward to wearing something that didn't smell of smoke.
Dean stood in the door way to the bathroom and watched Sam with a look of worry on his face before turning and going for his shower.
When Dean emerged from the bathroom he was wearing only his boxer shorts and found himself quite disappointed that Sam was fully dressed. "You seen my phone?" he asked.
Sam looked up from his laptop, which sat before him on his bed and found his eyes wandering over Dean's body for only a second before dragging them back to the computer. "It's on the chair."
Dean walked over to it and picked it up, he scrolled through his contacts, finding Bobby's number. "Hey, Bobby," he said cheerfully. "Yeah, yeah I'm good. Hey listen, thanks for letting me stay at the cabin. I got a question for you."
Sam wasn't really listening to the conversation he was reading through the Google search he had done. He typed in the factors and tried several different ways or wording it but so far he hadn't come up with anything.
"A Gancanagh," he heard Dean say. "I never heard of them."
Sam quickly typed the word into a search and a page came right up.
"Well how do we kill it? Well that's just great Bobby," Dean said before looking over at Sam. "He doesn't know."
Sam frowned. "We'll have to figure it out for ourselves then."
"So what do you know about them?" He heard Dean ask before going back to his search. He couldn't find much info about it, but there was one thing that stood out. Apparently the Gancanagh carried a clay pipe, even though it detested the taste of smoke, maybe that was the source of its power. Of course to destroy the pipe they needed to find the thing and they had no leads on that so far.
"Well," Dean said as he closed the phone. "Bobby didn't know much about them, apparently they’re very rare. He hadn't heard of a hunter coming up against one yet, they're not exactly native to this place."
"No, they're Irish," Sam said, still engrossed in the words on the screen. "Maybe we should ask sweet Amanda for her last name, Irish ancestry might be enough to lure it... Yeah?"
Dean chuckled. "I don't think we have to ask... Remember the name of the motel?" Dean held up a note pad with the motel logo, making Sam groan. O'Grady Motel, with a fucking four leaf clover for a logo, he didn't know how he could have missed it.
“Well chances are we are dealing with a Gancanagh then. Did Bobby say anything more?"
"Only that he suspected that Amanda probably doesn’t know that she summoned one. Apparently the day for their visit to Salem coincidences with some day for worship of spirits back in Ireland... I hate fucking coincidences."
Sam laughed. "Well... It has to be here to work its mojo, right?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "At least Bobby thought so... Especially since all the cases didn't take place in the same day. I mean the murders were on two different days and those suicides you talked about..."
"Not on the same day," Sam filled in, pulling up the document where he'd pasted the info they had so far. "Looking at the dates it seems that it started the day after the school trip and have been going on ever since. Amanda must be one pissed off girl, it looks like the entire cheerleading squad has been affected in one way or another."
Dean shrugged. "Well you saw her... Black on black with masses of eyeliner and silver jewelry, I'm willing to bet she's not the normal cup of tea for a town like this. In fact you better watch out, Sammy... I saw the daggers she glared at you yesterday."
"Very funny," Sam responded, pasting the new info into the document and closing it. "So far it's targeted only girls."
Dean just looked at him. "Yes, and you are certainly no girl," he said, his eyes wandering over Sam for just a second. "Okay, so it has to be at that school right? So how do we find it... or them... what do they look like?"
"Apparently it's some kinda faerie, but not in the Disney sense of the word. It looks like a human, which narrows it down not at all," Sam told him, closing his laptop. "Don't you get a vibe by now. I mean you've been doing this so long, don't you sense when a human isn't a human?"
Dean just looked at him and snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's a great idea, we'll ask the tarot cards and then I can try scrying and when we're done with all that we can hold a séance."
"You're making fun of me aren't you," he said, because in this new world of his he wasn't entirely sure.
"We go to that school, posing as janitors or grounds keepers and we ask around for any new teachers or students," Dean told him, picking up both his and Sam's jackets.
"Now that sounds like a plan," Sam said smiling as he took the jacket. "But breakfast first. I'm fucking starving."
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After breakfast and a couple of cups of what Dean had declared ‘foofy coffee’ Sam felt a whole lot better and judging from the fact that Dean had stopped giving him worried looks, he looked better too. Of course Dean still gave him looks, but now they were of the more familiar kind that he'd learned to deal with, the kind that had Dean's eyes saying: you’re so hot. He didn't want Dean worrying about him, even if it was sweet, they had more important things to do; like finding the Gancanagh and figuring out how to kill it.
The school was bustling with activity even though the summer holidays were fast approaching and Sam almost got a heart attack when Dean simply pulled out a set of lock picks and let them into a gardening shed on the edges of the grounds. A few people glanced at them, probably mostly because Sam kept spinning around giving them nervous looks, but no one started yelling and soon they were standing inside the dusty shed. Dean soon found what he was looking for, a couple of overalls hanging on a hook in the back of the shed. He took both of them down and handed the larger one over to Sam.
Sam eyed the beige overall warily, he had a feeling it would be flying around his shins, but he supposed his fashion sense would have to take a backseat just this once. With some hassle he managed to pull the overalls on, choosing to have the arms tied around his hips rather than pull it all the way up, since that would have made him look like an idiot and might also have caused some irreparable damage in his nether regions. When he was done he reluctantly took off his jacket and hooded sweater, leaving only the white t-shirt he wore underneath.
"Now that's a pretty good look for you," Dean said with a leer. "Gives me all kinds of ideas."
Sam rolled his eyes at him, thinking it unfair that Dean's overalls fitted him like they were tailored, enhancing his broad chest and tapered waist. Then again he'd never seen Dean look bad in anything so it might just be that he was one of those people that made everything fit him.
"Can I help you boys?" an old man asked from behind them as he entered the shed. They both jumped and spun round to face him, Sam looking to Dean to answer for them.
"Yeah, we're new here, just starting today, we were told to come find you to be assigned our duties," Dean lied easily.
The man was in his late sixties and was dressed in overalls similar to the ones the boys wore. "Ah, 'bout time they got some more people in, I been telling them I ain't no young man anymore, need some young blood."
Dean smiled and nodded. "I'm Dean, this is Sam."
"Jim," the man said extending his hand of the both of them.
"You worked here long, Jim?" Dean asked as they made their way out of the shed into the morning sunlight.
"Oh long enough," he answered with a laugh. "I know I should retire, but it's all I've ever known."
"So it's pretty rare that they'd hire someone knew this close to the end of term right?" Sam said, looking around as the kids began to go back into the main building to find their ways to class.
"Yeah, though they got someone new in a couple of weeks ago, good thing too, seeing what happened to that teacher," Jim told them as he grabbed a rake from the side of the shed and handed it to Sam.
"Really, before Miss Chase was arrested?" Sam asked, taking the rake and looking around at the stray leaves that had fallen on the ground around the fences.
"Yep, just before I think, a couple of days maybe. Now Sam you put that rake to work," he said with a smile. "And Dean if you wouldn't mind watering the gardens in the courtyard."
Dean gave Sam an encouraging look before taking off in the direction the courtyard.
"So who was it they hired?" Sam asked innocently pretending to be focusing on the leaves on the ground.
"Mr O'Reilly the new teacher in ancient mythology. Nice chap but that Irish brogue of his... So thick you can hardly understand him. Now if you don't mind boy I got some bushes to weed."
Sam looked up, keeping the triumphant grin from his face and turning into a more somber polite smile. "I'll be alright here," he said. "Lots of leaves to take care of."
Jim chuckled. "And there'll just be more to come if we get a hot summer."
Sam nodded, wishing for the old man to just leave so that he could tell Dean about what he'd just heard. It took a few more minutes of politeness before Jim finally took off. Sam waited until he had disappeared around a corner before throwing the rake down and hurrying in the direction Dean had left. Dean was waiting for him just out of sight, leaning against the wall with a smile.
"Did he tell you about Mr O'Reilly?" He asked looking smug.
"Now how did you know that?" Sam asked feeling disapointed.
"I got to chatting with this cute algebra teacher. She told me everything she knew about the staff and then some." Dean produced a slip of paper with a phone number written on it. "And she told me to call her tonight."
"Then why don't you do that?" Sam huffed. "Go out, have some fun... I better catch up on my sleep anyway."
Dean frowned. "You want me to go out and get laid?"
Sam faked honest sincerity. "Yeah, why not? You're both consenting adults and I have some calls I need to make anyway. I've been putting shit off for too long."
Dean scowled at him and crushed the paper in his hand. "Well, I'm sorry, but you're just gonna be stuck with me."
"Whatever," Sam responded turning back towards the shed to hide his triumphant grin. "So do we wait to..." Sam trailed of and looked over at the cluster of trees around the perimeter of the school grounds. There was some woodland area behind that and he cocked his head as music flitted over ever so softly.
"Headache?" Dean asked, placing his hand on Sam's back and looking at him in concern.
"No, do you hear that? Music?"
Dean tried hard to listen but then gave up. "No, I don't. It's probably the music class," he told him as he started to walk them both away. "So we wait ‘til after classes and then go pay this new teacher a visit."
Sam shook his head, only half listening to what Dean was saying. "Right. It's beautiful."
Dean frowned and tried to look to where Sam was looking. "So I was thinking about this thing and how we know for sure it's the new guy... and why are you looking at me like that?"
Sam found himself watching Dean's nose, noticing the freckles there for the first time. The sunlight was glinting in his eyes and the grass around them made them look so vividly green. "What?"
"Where you listening to a word I said?" Dean asked angrily only for Sam to sigh and lean into him a little.
"Dean, I..." he stopped mid sentence and let his eyes wander down to Dean's mouth. It was shaped perfectly like a cupid's bow and he watched as Dean's tongue snaked out to wet it a little, making Sam do the same to his.
"Sammy, are you okay?"
"I'm just... peachy..." The music was working it's way to a crescendo in his head, it sounded like some sort of flute, or maybe a pipe and he felt dizzy, the ground underneath him shifting and moving.
"Hey," Dean said, as he caught Sam's arm to keep him from toppling over. "You got some sort of neurological issues you haven't been telling me about?"
"No," Sam said, looking at Dean's hand on his arm. Such a good hand, strong and capable, scarred with the dangers of his job. Dean was so brave.
"What's with you man? You're freaking me out. Big time. I would much prefer it if you started puking your guts up and clutching your head again."
Sam giggled, he felt like he was drunk or maybe high, soaring towards heaven on wings of gold. "You're beautiful," he said, looking at Dean like he saw him for the first time. How could he have missed that strong jaw, the proud nose, the eyes, dear god the eyes.
"Hoookay," Dean said looking wild eyed. "We're getting out of here. NOW."
Sam grinned. "Okay," he said, trailing after Dean as the other man let go of his arm and started walking towards the shed. He swallowed as he watched Dean's tight little ass move under the overalls.
As soon as the door of the shed closed behind them Sam had Dean backed up against the wall, keeping him captured with his body. "Sam what the fuck are you doing?" Dean asked. "Is this some kind of weird side effect of your pain killers?"
"Maybe," Sam said, enjoying the feel of Dean's body pressed against his. "Or maybe I just grew tired of you flirting with every girl we meet. You say you want to fuck me? It's time I take you up on that."
Dean stared at him wide-eyed as Sam's body all but blanketed his own. He could feel Sam's breath on his face and before he could talk again he felt the other man's lips against his own. Sam's mouth was firm and insistent as it moved against Dean's lips, parting them and sliding his tongue out to taste them.
Dean groaned and his arms went around Sam, grasping his ass and pulling him closer so that their hard ons were pressing together. "Jesus, Sam," he gasped as the other man's lips left his to work a trail down his neck.
"Dean," Sam moaned against Dean's flesh. "You're mine, tell me you're mine."
"What?" Dean asked with a frown, starting to wonder what the hell was going on here.
"Tell me you love me," Sam demanded, his hands fisting in Dean's hair almost painfully.
Dean looked into his eyes and saw something, something that wasn't quite Sam. "Oh Jesus, that's all I need. How did the son of a bitch know to come after you?"
Sam backed away from him suddenly, his eyes full of sadness, clutching his chest like it hurt. "You don't love me do you? It was just a game to you. You just wanted to play with me, make me love you, just so you could fuck me. But you never loved me, did you?"
Dean could see this ending one of three ways. One, Sam murdered Dean in a jealous rage. Two, Sam killed himself feeling heart broken. Or three, Dean could do what he did best, and lie.
"Sammy, of course I love you, you know I do," he said, walking closer to Sam and cupping his face, forcing Sam to look at him. He used his thumb to wipe away the tear that had spilled over and he felt a genuine pain that Sam was hurting, even if it was just some curse. "I just... uh... I didn't want our first time to be in some dirty shed."
Sam looked up at him hopefully. "Really?"
"Yeah. Yeah, Sam. You know what, let's go back to the motel, okay?" Dean knew he had to get Sam out of there, he needed to know for sure how to kill this son of a bitch, how to break it's hold on Sam, and how to stop Sam from harming either Dean or himself.
He might also have to figure out how to stop himself from taking Sam up on what he oh so generously offered, because damn that had been one hell of a kiss. He changed out of the uniform and into his own clothes as fast as he could manage, trying not to tempt Sam more than his being there was doing. Luckily Sam tangled his foot in the overalls when he took them off, which bought Dean just enough time to button his leatherjacket up to the throat. As Sam straightened up, dressed in only blue jeans and his, a-little-too-tight, white t-shirt Dean cursed himself for making Sam buy new clothes. Why had he thought that to be a good idea again?
Their hike back to the car was more than a little unnerving, with Sam keeping one of his large hands on Dean's ass all the way. Public displays of affection made Dean uneasy and it being a man, even if it was Sam, even more so. They made it back to the car without any gay bashers hunting them down, but the ride back to the motel proved to be just as trying. Sam kept one hand on Dean's thigh the entire way, squeezing it every now and then in a way that was making Dean's pants far tighter than he'd ever meant for them to be. It was pure luck and not Dean's driving skills that brought them back to the motel in one piece, but he had a feeling his luck would run out soon. How could he keep Sam from jumping him without the other man getting homicidal on his ass?
He glanced in through the window to the reception but Amanda wasn't there, she must still be in school. Besides interviewing her further probably wouldn't lead to anything, except for Sam trying to kill her. She might have been the one starting the whole thing, but he had a hard time believing she was doing it on purpose. Sam stood close behind him while he unlocked the door, pressing himself close enough that Dean could clearly feel his impressive erection against the small of his back. He licked his lips wondering if Sam would really blame him for taking him up on the offer once he was back in control of himself. He dismissed the thought as soon as it passed through his mind, of course Sam would blame him. He wouldn't say anything but whenever Dean wasn't looking he'd get this disappointed little look and he wouldn't be able to live with that.
Authors: sasskitten and jeyhawk
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Summary: Dean and Sam continue their journey, learning more about each other, and themselves, as they encounter a small town with strange going ons.
Disclaimer: We don’t own Supernatural, we make no money from it, it’s just for fun.
Beta: rhodynne
Note: This follows directly from The Journey: Mill Stones. The Journey is an ongoing series written in 'episodes' of about five chapters. So every five chapters or so it will change its nameaccording to the new adventure they are setting out on. Just wanted to let you all know.
All the earlier parts can be found here.
Chapter Four
Waking up with Dean snuggled to his side was something Sam hadn't expected would happen in a million years, but there he was sleeping fitfully next to Sam with one hand still on his brow. Sam couldn't deny it felt nice to be sharing a bed with someone again, but he wouldn't have thought that person would be Dean. He didn't quite understand his feelings and attitudes towards Dean. He'd never been homophobic but he was pretty sure that he would be wildly uneasy if another guy hit on him. Dean got away with it all the time though and to be honest he kind of missed it when Dean didn't. Maybe it was just that he liked having his ego stroked, maybe it was something else, but it was sure as hell confusing the shit out of him.
Taking care not to wake Dean, Sam slid out of bed and went into the bathroom, cleaning the toilet, taking a shower and brushing his teeth about a million times. The headache was almost gone, only noticeable as a slight twinge behind his temples and he was ravenously hungry. The migraines might be terrible and unexplainable, but they never lasted for very long. As he walked out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him.
"You feel okay?" He asked trying to sound casual, but Sam was pretty sure he'd scared the crap out of Dean last night.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Thanks for..."
"Don't mention it," Dean said gruffly. "Just try not to do it again. Okay?"
Sam gave him a crooked smile. "I can't promise, as much as I'd love to."
Dean nodded. "You should have told me you weren't feeling well," he said. "We could have made an early night and gone poking around today instead."
"I was feeling well," Sam said. "It started after we'd been to the school, but it wasn't very bad. I thought it was just a normal headache."
"I'm taking a shower," Dean said, changing the subject. "Then we'll grab some breakfast."
"Kay," Sam responded as he turned his back to Dean and started rummaging through his clothes bags; he looked forward to wearing something that didn't smell of smoke.
Dean stood in the door way to the bathroom and watched Sam with a look of worry on his face before turning and going for his shower.
When Dean emerged from the bathroom he was wearing only his boxer shorts and found himself quite disappointed that Sam was fully dressed. "You seen my phone?" he asked.
Sam looked up from his laptop, which sat before him on his bed and found his eyes wandering over Dean's body for only a second before dragging them back to the computer. "It's on the chair."
Dean walked over to it and picked it up, he scrolled through his contacts, finding Bobby's number. "Hey, Bobby," he said cheerfully. "Yeah, yeah I'm good. Hey listen, thanks for letting me stay at the cabin. I got a question for you."
Sam wasn't really listening to the conversation he was reading through the Google search he had done. He typed in the factors and tried several different ways or wording it but so far he hadn't come up with anything.
"A Gancanagh," he heard Dean say. "I never heard of them."
Sam quickly typed the word into a search and a page came right up.
"Well how do we kill it? Well that's just great Bobby," Dean said before looking over at Sam. "He doesn't know."
Sam frowned. "We'll have to figure it out for ourselves then."
"So what do you know about them?" He heard Dean ask before going back to his search. He couldn't find much info about it, but there was one thing that stood out. Apparently the Gancanagh carried a clay pipe, even though it detested the taste of smoke, maybe that was the source of its power. Of course to destroy the pipe they needed to find the thing and they had no leads on that so far.
"Well," Dean said as he closed the phone. "Bobby didn't know much about them, apparently they’re very rare. He hadn't heard of a hunter coming up against one yet, they're not exactly native to this place."
"No, they're Irish," Sam said, still engrossed in the words on the screen. "Maybe we should ask sweet Amanda for her last name, Irish ancestry might be enough to lure it... Yeah?"
Dean chuckled. "I don't think we have to ask... Remember the name of the motel?" Dean held up a note pad with the motel logo, making Sam groan. O'Grady Motel, with a fucking four leaf clover for a logo, he didn't know how he could have missed it.
“Well chances are we are dealing with a Gancanagh then. Did Bobby say anything more?"
"Only that he suspected that Amanda probably doesn’t know that she summoned one. Apparently the day for their visit to Salem coincidences with some day for worship of spirits back in Ireland... I hate fucking coincidences."
Sam laughed. "Well... It has to be here to work its mojo, right?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "At least Bobby thought so... Especially since all the cases didn't take place in the same day. I mean the murders were on two different days and those suicides you talked about..."
"Not on the same day," Sam filled in, pulling up the document where he'd pasted the info they had so far. "Looking at the dates it seems that it started the day after the school trip and have been going on ever since. Amanda must be one pissed off girl, it looks like the entire cheerleading squad has been affected in one way or another."
Dean shrugged. "Well you saw her... Black on black with masses of eyeliner and silver jewelry, I'm willing to bet she's not the normal cup of tea for a town like this. In fact you better watch out, Sammy... I saw the daggers she glared at you yesterday."
"Very funny," Sam responded, pasting the new info into the document and closing it. "So far it's targeted only girls."
Dean just looked at him. "Yes, and you are certainly no girl," he said, his eyes wandering over Sam for just a second. "Okay, so it has to be at that school right? So how do we find it... or them... what do they look like?"
"Apparently it's some kinda faerie, but not in the Disney sense of the word. It looks like a human, which narrows it down not at all," Sam told him, closing his laptop. "Don't you get a vibe by now. I mean you've been doing this so long, don't you sense when a human isn't a human?"
Dean just looked at him and snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's a great idea, we'll ask the tarot cards and then I can try scrying and when we're done with all that we can hold a séance."
"You're making fun of me aren't you," he said, because in this new world of his he wasn't entirely sure.
"We go to that school, posing as janitors or grounds keepers and we ask around for any new teachers or students," Dean told him, picking up both his and Sam's jackets.
"Now that sounds like a plan," Sam said smiling as he took the jacket. "But breakfast first. I'm fucking starving."
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After breakfast and a couple of cups of what Dean had declared ‘foofy coffee’ Sam felt a whole lot better and judging from the fact that Dean had stopped giving him worried looks, he looked better too. Of course Dean still gave him looks, but now they were of the more familiar kind that he'd learned to deal with, the kind that had Dean's eyes saying: you’re so hot. He didn't want Dean worrying about him, even if it was sweet, they had more important things to do; like finding the Gancanagh and figuring out how to kill it.
The school was bustling with activity even though the summer holidays were fast approaching and Sam almost got a heart attack when Dean simply pulled out a set of lock picks and let them into a gardening shed on the edges of the grounds. A few people glanced at them, probably mostly because Sam kept spinning around giving them nervous looks, but no one started yelling and soon they were standing inside the dusty shed. Dean soon found what he was looking for, a couple of overalls hanging on a hook in the back of the shed. He took both of them down and handed the larger one over to Sam.
Sam eyed the beige overall warily, he had a feeling it would be flying around his shins, but he supposed his fashion sense would have to take a backseat just this once. With some hassle he managed to pull the overalls on, choosing to have the arms tied around his hips rather than pull it all the way up, since that would have made him look like an idiot and might also have caused some irreparable damage in his nether regions. When he was done he reluctantly took off his jacket and hooded sweater, leaving only the white t-shirt he wore underneath.
"Now that's a pretty good look for you," Dean said with a leer. "Gives me all kinds of ideas."
Sam rolled his eyes at him, thinking it unfair that Dean's overalls fitted him like they were tailored, enhancing his broad chest and tapered waist. Then again he'd never seen Dean look bad in anything so it might just be that he was one of those people that made everything fit him.
"Can I help you boys?" an old man asked from behind them as he entered the shed. They both jumped and spun round to face him, Sam looking to Dean to answer for them.
"Yeah, we're new here, just starting today, we were told to come find you to be assigned our duties," Dean lied easily.
The man was in his late sixties and was dressed in overalls similar to the ones the boys wore. "Ah, 'bout time they got some more people in, I been telling them I ain't no young man anymore, need some young blood."
Dean smiled and nodded. "I'm Dean, this is Sam."
"Jim," the man said extending his hand of the both of them.
"You worked here long, Jim?" Dean asked as they made their way out of the shed into the morning sunlight.
"Oh long enough," he answered with a laugh. "I know I should retire, but it's all I've ever known."
"So it's pretty rare that they'd hire someone knew this close to the end of term right?" Sam said, looking around as the kids began to go back into the main building to find their ways to class.
"Yeah, though they got someone new in a couple of weeks ago, good thing too, seeing what happened to that teacher," Jim told them as he grabbed a rake from the side of the shed and handed it to Sam.
"Really, before Miss Chase was arrested?" Sam asked, taking the rake and looking around at the stray leaves that had fallen on the ground around the fences.
"Yep, just before I think, a couple of days maybe. Now Sam you put that rake to work," he said with a smile. "And Dean if you wouldn't mind watering the gardens in the courtyard."
Dean gave Sam an encouraging look before taking off in the direction the courtyard.
"So who was it they hired?" Sam asked innocently pretending to be focusing on the leaves on the ground.
"Mr O'Reilly the new teacher in ancient mythology. Nice chap but that Irish brogue of his... So thick you can hardly understand him. Now if you don't mind boy I got some bushes to weed."
Sam looked up, keeping the triumphant grin from his face and turning into a more somber polite smile. "I'll be alright here," he said. "Lots of leaves to take care of."
Jim chuckled. "And there'll just be more to come if we get a hot summer."
Sam nodded, wishing for the old man to just leave so that he could tell Dean about what he'd just heard. It took a few more minutes of politeness before Jim finally took off. Sam waited until he had disappeared around a corner before throwing the rake down and hurrying in the direction Dean had left. Dean was waiting for him just out of sight, leaning against the wall with a smile.
"Did he tell you about Mr O'Reilly?" He asked looking smug.
"Now how did you know that?" Sam asked feeling disapointed.
"I got to chatting with this cute algebra teacher. She told me everything she knew about the staff and then some." Dean produced a slip of paper with a phone number written on it. "And she told me to call her tonight."
"Then why don't you do that?" Sam huffed. "Go out, have some fun... I better catch up on my sleep anyway."
Dean frowned. "You want me to go out and get laid?"
Sam faked honest sincerity. "Yeah, why not? You're both consenting adults and I have some calls I need to make anyway. I've been putting shit off for too long."
Dean scowled at him and crushed the paper in his hand. "Well, I'm sorry, but you're just gonna be stuck with me."
"Whatever," Sam responded turning back towards the shed to hide his triumphant grin. "So do we wait to..." Sam trailed of and looked over at the cluster of trees around the perimeter of the school grounds. There was some woodland area behind that and he cocked his head as music flitted over ever so softly.
"Headache?" Dean asked, placing his hand on Sam's back and looking at him in concern.
"No, do you hear that? Music?"
Dean tried hard to listen but then gave up. "No, I don't. It's probably the music class," he told him as he started to walk them both away. "So we wait ‘til after classes and then go pay this new teacher a visit."
Sam shook his head, only half listening to what Dean was saying. "Right. It's beautiful."
Dean frowned and tried to look to where Sam was looking. "So I was thinking about this thing and how we know for sure it's the new guy... and why are you looking at me like that?"
Sam found himself watching Dean's nose, noticing the freckles there for the first time. The sunlight was glinting in his eyes and the grass around them made them look so vividly green. "What?"
"Where you listening to a word I said?" Dean asked angrily only for Sam to sigh and lean into him a little.
"Dean, I..." he stopped mid sentence and let his eyes wander down to Dean's mouth. It was shaped perfectly like a cupid's bow and he watched as Dean's tongue snaked out to wet it a little, making Sam do the same to his.
"Sammy, are you okay?"
"I'm just... peachy..." The music was working it's way to a crescendo in his head, it sounded like some sort of flute, or maybe a pipe and he felt dizzy, the ground underneath him shifting and moving.
"Hey," Dean said, as he caught Sam's arm to keep him from toppling over. "You got some sort of neurological issues you haven't been telling me about?"
"No," Sam said, looking at Dean's hand on his arm. Such a good hand, strong and capable, scarred with the dangers of his job. Dean was so brave.
"What's with you man? You're freaking me out. Big time. I would much prefer it if you started puking your guts up and clutching your head again."
Sam giggled, he felt like he was drunk or maybe high, soaring towards heaven on wings of gold. "You're beautiful," he said, looking at Dean like he saw him for the first time. How could he have missed that strong jaw, the proud nose, the eyes, dear god the eyes.
"Hoookay," Dean said looking wild eyed. "We're getting out of here. NOW."
Sam grinned. "Okay," he said, trailing after Dean as the other man let go of his arm and started walking towards the shed. He swallowed as he watched Dean's tight little ass move under the overalls.
As soon as the door of the shed closed behind them Sam had Dean backed up against the wall, keeping him captured with his body. "Sam what the fuck are you doing?" Dean asked. "Is this some kind of weird side effect of your pain killers?"
"Maybe," Sam said, enjoying the feel of Dean's body pressed against his. "Or maybe I just grew tired of you flirting with every girl we meet. You say you want to fuck me? It's time I take you up on that."
Dean stared at him wide-eyed as Sam's body all but blanketed his own. He could feel Sam's breath on his face and before he could talk again he felt the other man's lips against his own. Sam's mouth was firm and insistent as it moved against Dean's lips, parting them and sliding his tongue out to taste them.
Dean groaned and his arms went around Sam, grasping his ass and pulling him closer so that their hard ons were pressing together. "Jesus, Sam," he gasped as the other man's lips left his to work a trail down his neck.
"Dean," Sam moaned against Dean's flesh. "You're mine, tell me you're mine."
"What?" Dean asked with a frown, starting to wonder what the hell was going on here.
"Tell me you love me," Sam demanded, his hands fisting in Dean's hair almost painfully.
Dean looked into his eyes and saw something, something that wasn't quite Sam. "Oh Jesus, that's all I need. How did the son of a bitch know to come after you?"
Sam backed away from him suddenly, his eyes full of sadness, clutching his chest like it hurt. "You don't love me do you? It was just a game to you. You just wanted to play with me, make me love you, just so you could fuck me. But you never loved me, did you?"
Dean could see this ending one of three ways. One, Sam murdered Dean in a jealous rage. Two, Sam killed himself feeling heart broken. Or three, Dean could do what he did best, and lie.
"Sammy, of course I love you, you know I do," he said, walking closer to Sam and cupping his face, forcing Sam to look at him. He used his thumb to wipe away the tear that had spilled over and he felt a genuine pain that Sam was hurting, even if it was just some curse. "I just... uh... I didn't want our first time to be in some dirty shed."
Sam looked up at him hopefully. "Really?"
"Yeah. Yeah, Sam. You know what, let's go back to the motel, okay?" Dean knew he had to get Sam out of there, he needed to know for sure how to kill this son of a bitch, how to break it's hold on Sam, and how to stop Sam from harming either Dean or himself.
He might also have to figure out how to stop himself from taking Sam up on what he oh so generously offered, because damn that had been one hell of a kiss. He changed out of the uniform and into his own clothes as fast as he could manage, trying not to tempt Sam more than his being there was doing. Luckily Sam tangled his foot in the overalls when he took them off, which bought Dean just enough time to button his leatherjacket up to the throat. As Sam straightened up, dressed in only blue jeans and his, a-little-too-tight, white t-shirt Dean cursed himself for making Sam buy new clothes. Why had he thought that to be a good idea again?
Their hike back to the car was more than a little unnerving, with Sam keeping one of his large hands on Dean's ass all the way. Public displays of affection made Dean uneasy and it being a man, even if it was Sam, even more so. They made it back to the car without any gay bashers hunting them down, but the ride back to the motel proved to be just as trying. Sam kept one hand on Dean's thigh the entire way, squeezing it every now and then in a way that was making Dean's pants far tighter than he'd ever meant for them to be. It was pure luck and not Dean's driving skills that brought them back to the motel in one piece, but he had a feeling his luck would run out soon. How could he keep Sam from jumping him without the other man getting homicidal on his ass?
He glanced in through the window to the reception but Amanda wasn't there, she must still be in school. Besides interviewing her further probably wouldn't lead to anything, except for Sam trying to kill her. She might have been the one starting the whole thing, but he had a hard time believing she was doing it on purpose. Sam stood close behind him while he unlocked the door, pressing himself close enough that Dean could clearly feel his impressive erection against the small of his back. He licked his lips wondering if Sam would really blame him for taking him up on the offer once he was back in control of himself. He dismissed the thought as soon as it passed through his mind, of course Sam would blame him. He wouldn't say anything but whenever Dean wasn't looking he'd get this disappointed little look and he wouldn't be able to live with that.