Ashes of Another Life (Sam/Dean, NC-17) (4/5)

[lostt1]

Dean lasted eight days, three hours, and twenty-six minutes before he finally broke. He knew he had promised to give Sam space but how long was he expected to wait? The silence between them made him twitchy, the intense desire to know what was going on with Sam was driving him mad. He found himself grabbing his phone time and time again, wanting nothing more than to hear his brother's voice. He missed Sam, more now than when Sam first left for school. Things between them had shifted so dramatically that Dean simply couldn't imagine a life without Sam in it. They were more than just brothers. They were friends. They were-

Dean wasn't sure how to describe their relationship any more. One moment of jealousy, a single kiss, the intensity behind it burned into his memory, and Dean didn't know what it all meant.

As a friend, Dean had promised to give Sam space. But he couldn't take the uncertainty any longer. He needed to know where things stood between them. He couldn't stop thinking about the look on Sam's face as his world crumbled from under his feet. He grabbed up his phone and pressed the speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jess, it's me."

"Oh my god! I'm so glad you called!" Dean frowned at Jess's overenthusiastic greeting. He definitely hadn't been expecting that reaction. When Jess spoke again, though, her voice was a low hiss. "What the hell did you do to him, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. That was the response he'd been expecting. Dean ignored her question in favor of one of his own. "How's he doing?"

Jess sighed and Dean could hear her exhaustion and frustration in the sound. "He's doing better, but it was rough there for awhile. He's still not talking to anyone though, not even Jason. I finally called him when Sam refused to eat."

"Oh yeah," Dean tried to ignore the twisting in his gut at the mention of Sam's brother. "How'd that go?"

"Well, Sam may not have said a word, but I think he got through to him." Jess paused. "You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?"

"Sorry sweetheart, but it's not my place to tell."

"I knew you were going to say that," Jess grumbled. She grew quiet and Dean could only assume she was thinking of what to say next. "He misses you, you know."

"I promised I'd give him space, so I'm trying to do that," Dean admitted, getting as close to saying that he missed Sam, too, as he was going to get. He liked Jess, but he wasn't ready to lay all of his cards on the table just yet.

"I figured. It's just-" Jess stopped and Dean heard some muffled conversation in the background. There was a low growl and then-

"Dean?"

Dean inhaled, startled to hear Sam's voice. "Hey Sam."

"So you're calling my friends now?" Sam sounded exhausted, like he hadn't been sleeping and guilt bubbled up in Dean's chest.

"Well, I believe you asked me to leave you alone. Not everyone you knew."

Sam gave a derisive snort, ignoring the comment. "Why're you calling, Dean?"

"Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?"

"I'm not sure what to believe any more." Sam's voice was quiet, the words laced with pain. "I just..."

Dean chewed on his lip, hating that Sam was going through this alone. "What, Sam? You just-"

Sam sighed. "I just...I don't know. I just-"

Dean paused, waiting for Sam to finish but he never did. He heard Sam take a deep breath.

"So I was thinking-"

"Hope you didn't hurt yourself." Dean cringed and rubbed a hand across his face. Sometimes he just couldn't stop things from popping out of his mouth. It was a nervous habit, a defense mechanism. Never let them see you sweat.

"Anyway, I was thinking-" Dean could hear the small smile in Sam's voice and considered it a victory. "I've been trying to figure everything out and I just can't. There's all this stuff rolling around in my head and I can't make sense of it. Not on my own. I mean, I'm still pissed that you lied to me."

Sam sighed again and Dean could imagine him running a hand through his shaggy hair. "I don't agree with what you did. You fucking lied to me and I...But I think I understand. I just really need to talk to you."

Dean winced as Sam's voice cracked, his words thick with emotion.

"We're talking right now."

"Jerk." Sam huffed. "We really need to talk. In person. Not over the phone."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Pretty much took the words right out of my mouth, Sammy boy."

"So where exactly are you?"

"If I said right outside your door, would you call the cops?"

"Probably," Sam replied. "I'd make sure they brought the straight jacket with them, too."

Dean smiled, happy that Sam was attempting to joke with him. "Then it's a good thing I'm at the Stanford Inn."

"So you're still in town?"

"Uh yeah." Truth was, Dean hadn't actually left Palo Alto after he left Sam's. He hadn't wanted to go too far, wanted to be there if Sam needed him. He'd begged off the past few hunts his father had tried passing along and avoided his calls, still not sure what to tell him. They hadn't spoken man-to-man since the whole thing with Sam began.

"Good." Sam paused for a moment. "Can you meet me here tomorrow?"

Dean nodded but then realized he was on the phone and grunted an affirmative response.

"Bring some food."

"Sure, Sam." Dean couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. "I live to serve, you know."

"Whatever dude," Sam gave a small laugh and Dean had never been so grateful to hear the sound. "Just show up. Food is not optional, though. You show up without it and I'm kicking you back out."

"Fine. I'll be there." Dean bit his lip, trying to decide if he should say what was on his mind. He decided he needed to make some small sacrifices. "I'm...uh...I'm glad you're ok."

"I'm not ok, Dean. But I'm getting there." Sam sighed, his breath a slow exhale. "Bye, Dean."

Dean didn't have a chance to respond before Sam disconnected but he didn't care. He was going to see Sam the next night. The thought of seeing his brother was both a relief and the single scariest thing he'd ever had to face.

From three years of living another life, to a tangled web of half-truths, to a kiss he simply couldn't forget, they had a lot to talk about.

It was time to figure out just where they stood.

xxxxxx

Dean stared at Sam's door, trying to build up the courage to knock. His key was a heavy weight in his pocket but he didn't feel comfortable using it. Sam had given it to him before the truth had come out, back when things between them were simpler. If they'd ever been simple in the first place. Dean didn't know how Sam would react if he just walked in now, after everything that had happened between them. But Sam had invited him over. That had to mean something, right?

Dean shook his head, annoyed with himself. It was just Sam. He quickly brought his hand up, rapping on the wood with his knuckles.

The door opened a crack and Sam stared back at him. Dean took a quick inventory, noticed the dark shadows under Sam's eyes, the way his hair hung in his face, as if he were trying to hide from the world. Dean wanted to reach out, to push the hair out of Sam's eyes, to pull him in tight and never let him go.

He sighed and shoved the bag of food at Sam's chest. "Here."

"Thanks." Sam gave a small grunt and backed up, giving Dean enough room to pass. After Dean entered the living room, Sam shut the door and moved to the couch. He seemed jumpy and uncomfortable and Dean missed the easy closeness they'd had before the truth had come out.

Sam sat down and began rifling though the contents of the bag.

Dean took a seat next to Sam and raised an eyebrow as Sam tore into one of the burgers. "Hungry?"

"Yeah," Sam mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Feel like I haven't eaten in a week."

Dean nodded. "From what I hear, that's probably true."

Sam swallowed and ducked his head, letting his hair fall into his face. "Jess tell you that?"

"Yep." Dean kept his answer short, not entirely sure how Sam would react. He didn't know what kind of promises Jess had made to Sam.

Sam took another bite and chewed slowly, his eyes focusing on the wall across the room. Dean watched as he closed his eyes, preparing for whatever would come next. Sam set his sandwich down on the coffee table and turned to Dean.

"I'm glad you told me."

Dean scanned Sam's face, looking for signs that Sam was being anything less than honest. "Really?" Dean didn't want to be a skeptic but he was afraid to hope.

Sam nodded and turned more, pulling his leg up and under him so that he was fully facing Dean. He swallowed and stared down at his hands, fidgeting under the weight of Dean's stare.

"In a way, knowing the truth is a relief."

Dean shifted, twisting his torso toward Sam. "How so?"

Sam shrugged, keeping his eyes lowered. "It actually explains a lot. I thought I was going crazy."

Sam grew quiet and Dean sighed. Sam was usually chatty as hell but when Dean really wanted him to talk, getting answers from him now was like pulling teeth. "And?" he prompted.

"And nothing." Sam raised his eyes and Dean could see the traces of exhaustion in their hazel depths. "It just makes sense. I've always felt like I was different from everyone else."

Dean snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

Sam gave him a confused look but kept talking. "I just always seemed to know things I never should have known about, things about places I've never been or knowledge about subjects I never studied. I mean, I rocked the Latin during sophomore year and seriously, how the hell?" He paused, staring at Dean. "And then there was you."

Dean frowned. "What about me?"

Sam shrugged and picked at a thread on the couch. "They weren't just dreams, were they?"

Dean thought back on some of Sam's "stories" and shook his head. "Nope."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Figures," he muttered.

"What?"

"I finally meet a guy and actually fall for him and he turns out to be my brother." Sam gave him a sad smile.

Dean winced, hearing the trace of pain in Sam's voice. Telling his brother the truth had cost them both so much. Now that Sam knew who he really was, Dean needed to push the inappropriate thoughts that had taken up residence out of his mind. It was time to step up and be the big brother. The less said about that kiss, the better. "We've been through weirder, trust me."

Sam's lips quirked upwards. "I had a feeling." At Dean's curious stare, he shrugged one shoulder. "I seem to know about a lot of really strange things. And the dreams-"

Dean frowned as Sam scrunched up his face. "What about the dreams?"

Sam gave him a funny look. "They're just weird. The things you tend to dream about when you're high." At Dean's incredulous look, Sam laughed. "Oh please, like you wouldn't know."

"But you're not supposed to," Dean muttered. He glanced at his brother. "Weird dreams made you think you're a freak?"

"Well I had them a lot." Sam defended himself. "And you were always there. I remember this one with flying furniture, an enchanted mirror, and...was it a rabbit or a goat that ate your boot?"

Dean groaned. Of course Sam would remember that incident. "It was sort of both."

Sam snickered. "So tell me about it."

"About what?"

"Anything," Sam waved a hand through the air. "Everything. Just tell me things about our lives. I don't know if my memories will ever come back. I've been trying so hard to remember but everything is fuzzy around the edges. I'd like to know more."

Dean shifted. "So what do you remember?"

Sam frowned. "Barely anything," he admitted. "Just bits and pieces here and there. Nothing that tells a single story. It's like reading a book that's missing every third word."

Dean sighed. "Is there anything specific you want to know?"

"What about your -our - parents? I mean, I get why you never talk about them but now that I know-"

Dean inhaled sharply. He should have been expecting that one but it seemed to come out of nowhere. "Dad is...you know, maybe I should start at the beginning." Dean pressed his back into the couch and just let the words flow. He wasn't a fan of 'sharing and caring,' but he felt he owed Sam the truth. The stories just tumbled from his lips. He told Sam everything that popped into his head. He told them about their mother, about the demons that walked the earth, about growing up without a permanent address and no one to turn to but each other. He didn't hold anything back, didn't try to sugarcoat their history. If Sam was having vague dreams about his real life, then maybe something Dean said would jog the rest of his memories.

Sam sat quietly, listening intently as Dean talked. He finally held up a hand, signaling for Dean to stop and Dean inwardly sighed with relief.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at his brother. "Any of this ringin' a bell with you?"

Sam frowned and shook his head. "Not really. More of the cloudy fuzziness, but nothing's really sticking. It's like when you first wake up from a dream and you can still remember vague impressions of it but nothing solid."

Dean grunted. "But this isn't just another dream, Sam. It was your life."

Sam sighed. "I know that, Dean." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But for every moment you're telling me about, I have another memory that contradicts it. It's like there is this war going on in my head and if I don't find a balance soon, it's going to drive me insane."

Dean wanted to argue, wanted to point out that any memories with the Speros family were nothing but lies. But Dean didn't know what it was like to learn his whole life was a lie. He grew up in a world that most people believed didn't exist. He grew up believing in the unbelievable. So did Sam, but Sam didn't remember any of it. Dean didn't want to push too hard, too fast.

"Dean-"

Dean glanced up at Sam, startled to realize his mind had been wandering. He raised an eyebrow to show he was listening.

Sam sighed. "I'm trying, ok."

Dean nodded, not knowing what else to say. Sam was trying hard to mask the strain he was under but Dean could see it in the tight lines of his shoulders and in the twitch of his mouth.

"Dean, I don't want to give up my family."

Dean frowned. He honestly hadn't thought about much beyond telling Sam the truth. But there was a whole separate group that was involved in this, whether he liked it or not. He hadn't considered how Sam's 'family' would fit into their world. "Never said you had to, Sammy."

"Because I can't." Sam shifted and stretched his legs out in front of him. He twisted the thin material of his t-shirt in his fist. He glanced up at Dean and chewed on his lip. "They're my family, blood or not. And what if I try so hard to remember that I lose them? I mean, I-"

Dean could only nod his understanding because there was nothing he could say. He'd never been one to spout false assurances. He got it, he really did. He knew without a doubt he could never give up his family, give up Sam. He couldn't ask that of Sam, either. But now he didn't know how things were going to work between them.

Sam kicked Dean's leg. "Don’t think you're going anywhere, either."

Dean smirked. "Not like you can get rid of me that easy."

"But like I said, I need to find a balance." Sam sighed and the room was swallowed by silence. Dean started to fidget, feeling Sam's eyes on him. He was just about to reach for the remote, anything to distract him from the awkwardness that had washed over him, when Sam finally spoke again. "I'm sorry."

Dean raised his eyebrow, completely confused. "What are you sorry for? Not your fault."

"For making things harder on you." Sam gave him a wry smile. "For hitting on you time and time again. That had to be fun for you."

"You see me complaining?" Dean smirked. Truth was, he'd grown to like it, but that was neither here nor there. "I can't really blame you, after all. I'm sexy as hell."

Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Just keep telling yourself that."

"Oh, I do. Every day. And twice on Thursdays."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam laughed. "You're god's gift to women."

Dean waggled his eyebrows. "And men."

Sam snorted. "Haven't we covered this already?"

Dean shrugged. "You know, the sooner you just admit it, the sooner we can move on."

Sam shook his head. "Getting back to what I was saying?"

"Whatever man, you know I'll just bring it up again later."

"I'm sure you will."

"So you were saying?"

"I was?"

Dean smirked as Sam blushed, suddenly flustered.

"Oh yeah. I was just saying that you can't go anywhere either because I want you in my life. However I can have you." Sam ducked his head and took a shaky breath. When he stared back up at Dean, there was a telling sheen to his eyes. "But I want to remember you. More than anything else."

The mood in the room shifted suddenly and Dean found himself swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Christ, Sam." He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I told you. I don't do-"

"Chick flick moments," Sam wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

Dean had the sudden urge to get up and do something, to escape the heavy air that threatened to suffocate him. He nudged Sam's leg. "You know, I could really use a beer about now. You in?"

Sam startled, pushing back into the couch. He took a steadying breath and nodded. "Yeah, sounds good."

"Great, then let's get out of here." Dean stood and held out a hand, pulling Sam to his feet.

They still had a lot of things to figure out, like a way for Sam to find some sort of balance between his two lives. But they had plenty of time.

And until then, they had beer.

xxxxxx

After that initial awkward conversation, Dean and Sam fell back into the comfortable, casual friendship that had been developing before the truth came out. Dean was hunting a reaper in Oregon when he realized that he no longer had to hold back when he talked to Sam. There were no more lies, no more half-truths between them. Sam knew he was born a Winchester, he knew that Dean was his brother, and he knew about the family business. It was freeing, being able to talk to Sam without having to think twice about everything he said.

Dean had to wonder when he became the guy who actually wanted to share things with someone else. But when he and Sam were apart, their options were limited. It was either talk to each other or sit on the phone in silence.

"So when are you coming home?" Dean could imagine Sam's face, eyes wide and mouth quirked into a small smile. He was probably sprawled out on the couch, a book resting on his chest while he talked.

Home. Dean thought it was funny how one word can hold so much meaning. Home had always been where Sam was. But now it was also a physical place, an apartment he returned to time and time again between jobs. It was a place that was getting harder and harder to leave behind.

"Couple of days. Shouldn't be too long." Dean replied.

"Good."

"Aw, Sammy, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed me." Dean chuckled as Sam snorted.

"It's just been awhile. Starting to forget what you look like."

Dean swallowed, the joke suddenly not so funny any more. His hunting trips had been getting shorter and shorter. He had never been one to stay in the same place for too long before his skin started to crawl and the need to move on grew too great. But now, he hated leaving Sam behind. He just couldn't get past the fear that one day he would return and Sam would be gone. He didn't get his brother back just to lose him all over again.

"Dean?"

Dean shook his head, hearing the concern in Sam's voice. It was just a bad choice of words. Didn't mean Sam was actually going to forget him. Not again.

"I'm fine." Dean glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and sighed. "Hey Sam, I gotta go. Sooner I get this job done-"

"Sooner you get back." Sam replied. "I know the drill. Be careful, Dean."

"Always am, Sammy." Dean hung up the phone and slipped into his jacket, grabbing his car keys on his way out the door.

He had a job to do.

xxxxxx

By the time October rolled around, Dean had pretty much made Sam and Jess's apartment his permanent residence. He didn't bother stopping at a motel as he rolled into town, just headed straight for the west end of town. He headed home.

Dean let himself into the apartment and dropped his keys into a bowl just inside the door. "Sam? Jess?"

"Hey man." Sam walked into the room, bare-chested and scrubbing a towel through his shaggy brown hair. "Didn't think you were going to be here until tomorrow."

Dean shrugged, trying not to stare at the drops of water that beaded across Sam's golden skin. "Finished the job a bit early."

"Cool." Sam tossed the towel onto the kitchen floor behind him and Dean grinned, knowing Jess would kill him for it later. Sam grabbed a worn journal from its place on the couch. "So who's Bobby?"

"Bobby?" Sam nodded and Dean smirked. "Just what dream was it this time?"

Sam flipped open the book and turned to a page in the middle. "It says 'Bobby and Hercules - ask Dean.'" Sam frowned at the notebook. "Seriously? I really need to start writing more details. What the hell does that even mean?"

Dean chuckled and kicked his bag down into the corner before flopping down on the couch. Sam set the book down on the table with a grunt of frustration. He had started writing things down about his dreams so he could ask Dean about them later. Dean inclined his head toward the notebook and Sam nodded, turning down the hallway toward his room. Dean grabbed the book and began flipping through the pages. "Bobby's another hunter, an old friend of Dad's. We've known him most our lives, it seems."

Sam walked back into the room, tugging on a faded gray t-shirt that was stretched tight across his broad shoulders. He nodded, as if expecting the answer. "And Hercules?"

Dean grinned. "Hercules was this mangy mutt you picked up outside of Franklin, Indiana. I don't know who whined more, you or the mutt."

Sam rolled his eyes, slumping down next to Dean on the couch. "So what happened to him?"

"Somehow you smuggled him into the car. Dog was actually pretty quiet until you rolled over on it while you were asleep." Dean shook his head at the memory, remembering the fire in his father's eyes when he heard the puppy's bark. He could still see the way six-year old Sam's lip had trembled and his eyes filled with tears after their father told him he couldn't keep the dog. John had been furious but one look in his younger son's eyes and the anger had all but disappeared. "Bobby ended up taking the dog so you could still see it when we visited. Closest thing we ever had to a pet."

Dean flipped towards the back of Sam's book, frowning at a few of the more recent entries, words like fire and ceiling and Dean standing out like flashing neon. "Hey Sam, what's this about?" He held up the book and motioned to the page.

Sam read the words written there and shuddered. "Just a nightmare I've been having lately."

"Same nightmare as before?" Sam nodded and Dean frowned. "Want to tell me about it?"

Sam shook his head. "They're not memories, Dean, just dreams."

Dean's lips drew together in a tight line as he took in Sam's pained expression. He couldn't explain it, but something told him this was important. "Tell me anyway."

"Bossy much?" Sam muttered with a roll of his eyes, but then he was talking. "It's just a twisted nightmare. I'm on my bed and my eyes are closed. I can hear the water running, like someone is in the shower and something wet drips on my face. I open my eyes and the whole room bursts into flames."

Sam pulled his legs up, his arms wrapped around his knees. He rested his chin on his knees and Dean could see the fine tremors racing through his body. Dean longed to pull Sam towards him, to keep the demons at bay and away from his brother. He swallowed. "What else?"

"There was a man with yellow eyes and he was reaching toward me, beckoning me to come closer. But before he could touch me-" Sam closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, not wanting to push but needing to know. "Sam?"

Sam's eyes shot open and he stared at Dean, eyes wide and bright. "You were there. You pulled me from the fire. You said-"

Dean quirked an eyebrow, silently encouraging Sam to go on but Sam only shook his head. "It's nothing."

Dean frowned, wondering what Sam was hiding. "Was there any...thing on the ceiling?"

"On the ceiling?" Sam gave him a strange look. "No...why?"

Dean shrugged. "No reason."

Ok, so maybe he hadn't told Sam everything. When it came to their mother and how she died, the less Sam knew, the better. As far as Sam was concerned, their mother died in a house fire. Dean simply left out the supernatural element, telling Sam that their father just fell into hunting when they were young.

Sam sighed. "Like I said, man, just a nightmare."

Dean shifted, the movement causing his leg to brush up against Sam's. He tilted his head down, expression serious. "You know nothing's going to happen to you with me around, right?"

Sam gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression." He gave his head a lazy roll along the back of the couch, eyes closed.

Dean tossed the book on the coffee table just as Sam shot up. "Oh god, what time is it?"

Dean shot an amused glance at the clock on the wall, some antique thing Jess had picked up at a rummage sale. "About seven."

"Shit," Sam muttered, jumping up off the couch.

Dean watched, amused, as Sam struggled to pull on his shoes, hopping around the room like a demented bunny rabbit. Finally successful, he turned to stare at Dean, hands on his hips. "Well, let's go."

Dean frowned. "What? I just got here."

Sam huffed an annoyed sigh. "You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go." Sam nodded toward the door, already reaching for Dean's keys. "We need to meet up with my friends at O'Riley's and it's on the other side of town so you're driving."

"Wait." Dean stood up and stared at his brother. "If you weren't expecting me here until tomorrow, how were you planning to get to the restaurant?"

Sam grinned. "Same way I always do." He cocked his hip out and tilted his head to the side. "Just hope I could hitch a ride without having to blow anyone first."

Dean's mouth fell open slightly as Sam pulled open the door. Sam turned around and shook his head. "Relax Dean. There are things called taxis, you know."

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk." Sam laughed, mouth wide and Dean let the sound wash over him. "Although-" Sam paused and let his eyes roam across Dean from head to toe. "If you're driving, the offer definitely stands."

Dean groaned and pushed Sam out the door in front of him.

Oh yeah, things were definitely getting back to normal between them.

xxxxxx

Everyone was already seated when Sam and Dean finally made it to O'Riley's. Sam made a beeline for one of the tables, leaving Dean to follow in his wake. Sam bent down to whisper something in Jess's ear and she glanced up at Dean, her mouth quirking up in a secret smile.

Dean gave her a questioning look but before he could get too far, Sam was busy making introductions. "Dean, this is Luis, William, and Sarah. And you know Jess. Everyone, this is Dean."

William half stood and offered his hand. "We met briefly, back at the Pale Ale."

Dean nodded, vaguely recognizing the guy from the night he first 'met' Sam. "That was forever ago. Surprised you remember."

William shrugged. "Kind of hard to forget since Sam hasn't shut up about you since that night."

Everyone laughed as Sam flushed bright red. Sam shoved at William's shoulder. "Shove down man so we can sit."

The two of them took the empty seats and Sam immediately reached over, grabbing Luis's beer and taking a swig. Luis smacked Sam on the back of his head. "Get your own, Speros."

Sam shrugged. "Couldn't wait."

"Speaking of couldn't wait," Jess interrupted, shaking her head at her friends. "We went ahead and ordered. We have three pizzas coming but we can get more if we need to." She took a sip of her wine and gave Sam a pointed look. Sam just shrugged and tossed her an easy grin in response.

True to her word, the food was delivered less than five minutes after they arrived. Sam and Dean put in their drink orders and the waitress left the table, tossing one last smile at Dean before she pushed through the swinging doors.

Sam leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear. "God, can't take you anywhere."

"What?" Dean lifted an eyebrow but Sam was shaking his head, already turning his attention back to whatever Luis was saying.

Dinner was a casual affair, everyone fending for themselves after the pizza was served, laughing and trying to talk over the others. Dean just sat back, drinking his beer and watching the chaos around him.

"So Dean," Sarah said, leaning forward across the table, flashing her ample cleavage in his direction. Dean knew he was screwed when he didn't take a second glance. Sarah grinned. "I have to ask. What's your secret?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow and took another drink. "Beg your pardon?"

Sarah laughed. "Your secret," she repeated. "You know, for getting this one's attention." She pointed at Sam and jutted her lower lip out in a pout. "I've been trying for years with no luck."

Luis snorted. "Wrong equipment, maybe?"

"He could bat for both teams," Sarah pointed out. Dean watched, amused, as Sam buried his face behind his hands, trying to ignore the conversation going on around him.

"Trust me, he doesn't." William looked up to find everyone but Sam staring at him. "What? He was my roommate freshman year! I learned things."

"Alright, enough!" Sam's face was bright red. He looked over at Sarah. "You know I think you're hot and if I were interested in girls-"

Sarah grinned. "And sexy and sultry, too?"

Sam shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sexy and sultry, too."

"Sorry Sarah, you don't stand a chance," Jess took a sip from her wine and shared a look with Sam. Dean saw the silent conversation play out between them and wondered what it was all about.

"I know." Sarah huffed and Dean felt the corners of his mouth twist upwards in a smile. Sarah caught Dean's eye. "So you never did answer my question, Dean. How'd you manage to succeed where so many others have tried and failed before, getting Playboy Sammy to settle down?"

Dean wanted to laugh at the implication. Sam was hardly a player. As far as Dean knew, Sam hadn't been on a date since they'd met. But when he turned and caught Sam's eye, the laughter dried up. Sam was watching him, gaze dark and heated, and Dean felt the smile slip from his lips. "Just lucky, I guess," he choked out, mouth suddenly dry.

Jess laughed. "Like I said, no chance."

The conversation moved on but Dean had trouble keeping up, feeling Sam's eyes on him the entire time. Every time he got up the nerve to glance over, Sam was watching him, eyes drinking their fill. Dean resisted the urge to shiver and frowned. He was not about to let Sam make him act like a shy virgin. Sam licked his lips and widened his eyes in a silent challenge and it was on.

Sam knew the truth now and yet he continued to pursue Dean just like he'd done before. A carefully worded sentence here, a touch there...Dean was only human. Sam was an attractive guy and Dean couldn't deny that he was interested. He had tried to ignore those feelings, to push them away, reminding himself that Sam was his brother. But then he'd think about that one kiss, that single moment back at the bar, and Dean was tired of fighting. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it all the way. If Sam still wanted this, wanted him, he'd gladly give it to him. He'd give Sam the world. Screw the consequences. It wasn't like he cared what the world thought about him anyway.

Dean pushed any lingering doubts out of his mind and let the desire he'd been fighting wash over him. He took a deep breath, building up his courage.

Just as Sam started talking about the upcoming Halloween party they were going to attend, Dean reached over and rested his hand on Sam's knee. It was time to make Sam do the squirming. Dean rubbed his hand up the seam of Sam's jeans, his palm brushing along the inside of Sam's thigh.

Sam's breath hitched and Dean smirked as Sam slouched further down in his chair, his legs falling open to give Dean better access. Dean ignored the voice in his head that was telling him that he should stop, reminding him that Sam was his brother and he shouldn't want this. He pushed the voice out of his mind, focusing on the quick in and out of Sam's breathing, the way his pupils were dilating as he tried to keep up with the conversation. Sam had issued a challenge, after all. He knew Dean would fight dirty.

"Seriously guys, do I-" Sam inhaled sharply as Dean traced his thumb up the zipper of his jeans. "Do I have to go?" Sam bit his lip in order to hold back a moan.

Jess cocked her head to the side and turned her gaze onto Dean, her eyes narrowing slightly. Dean used his free hand to reach for his beer, schooling his face into a mask of indifference and boredom. "Yes, you have to go. You promised."

Sam tilted his hips up, pressing his denim-covered cock into Dean's palm.

"You ok, Sam?" Sarah frowned and Dean bit back a grin.

"I'm fine," Sam replied, voice sounding a little rough. "Guess I'm just not feeling...right."

Sarah gave him a funny look but turned back to William, asking his opinion on her costume idea.

Sam sat up straight, pulling away from Dean's hand with a wince. He leaned over and whispered. "Want to get out of here?" His tongue darted out and traced the edge of Dean's ear, causing Dean to shudder. Dean nodded, his lips quirking up in a smirk.

"Hey guys, I hate to eat and run, but we really need to go." Sam seemed to have gotten himself under control, his voice barely breathless. Dean wanted to watch him lose it all over again.

Luis shrugged. "Your loss, man."

Sam reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a twenty, handing it to Luis. "This should cover it."

"Why are you always handing him the cash?"

Sam looked at William and grinned. "Because the last time I left you in charge of money, I ended up having to bail you out of jail for trying to skip out on paying the tab. What was her name? Cindi with an i?"

William grumbled something under his breath and Sam laughed before turning to Dean. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Sam moved around the table and kissed Jess on the top of her head before whispering into her ear again. She nodded, her skin flushing slightly, and Sam pulled away. He gave one last wave before taking off for the door.

"Nice meeting you, Dean!" Dean heard Sarah holler behind him but he was already halfway across the room, trying to keep up with Sam.

"Seriously man, what's the rush?" Dean grumbled as he caught up. He wasn't given a chance to react before he found himself pressed up against the brick wall outside the restaurant. Sam pressed in, their mouths clashing together.

"You really want to talk about it now?" Sam murmured against Dean's lips, his thigh pushed between Dean's legs, pressing in tight.

Dean pulled away from the kiss and let his head fall onto Sam's shoulder. "We should probably talk about this. I mean-" his voice trailing off, not really knowing what to say.

Sam groaned and stepped back, his hands clenching in fists at his sides.

"Fine," he groaned. "I'll talk, you drive."

"Deal." Dean pushed off the wall and stalked toward the car, ignoring the aching pressure against his zipper.

Dean slipped into the driver's seat and started the car, groaning as the engine roared to life, the vibrations giving him a thrill. Sam slid into the passenger seat and immediately shifted, trying to get comfortable. Dean backed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the highway, getting to Sam's as quick as possible the only thing on his mind.

The miles passed in silence and Dean looked over at Sam, immediately wishing he hadn't. Sam was slouched low in the seat, his legs falling apart at an obscene angle. Dean could make out the telltale bulge and his mouth watered at the sight. Sam's hands were gripping his knees tight, his knuckles white. Dean ripped his eyes away from the passenger seat and back onto the road. "Sam-"

"Don't."

Dean frowned, shooting a quick glance in his brother's direction. "Don't what?"

Sam stared back at him, eyes heated and promising him things he shouldn't want. Sam licked his lips slowly, deliberately. "Don’t try to talk me out of this. I want this."

Dean swallowed at Sam's tone. "But we're-"

"Brothers?" Sam asked and Dean nodded. Sam shrugged. "Don't care."

Dean made a noise in the back of his throat, wanting to argue, but Sam just waved him off. "Fine, I do care," Sam admitted. "But I don't really remember all of that. And I've wanted you since I first saw you. Brother or not, I can't just forget these past few months."

Sam stared out the window, watching rows of building pass by in a blur.

"And I don't think you want this to stop either." He turned his gaze on Dean, eyes wide, silently pleading. "You kissed me first."

Sam's voice was barely a whisper and Dean bit his lip, unable to deny the truth. He'd come to terms with his feelings awhile ago. It was wrong to want Sam the way he did. He practically raised him. But the past months had shifted their relationship so much, Dean knew he couldn't go back. He didn't want to.

Sam took his silence as a disagreement of sorts and continued to argue his case. "Dean, you're more than a brother to me. I have one of those. And you're...you're just more. I don't care anymore. I've tried hiding it, pushing those thoughts away, but I just can't. And as far as everyone is concerned, we just met last year. Most people think you're my boyfriend anyway. No one knows the truth. They don't have to know."

"What about your grandma? She knows the truth. Our dad knows, too. Well, he knows we're brothers. But nothing else." Sam's breath hitched and Dean hated himself for pointing it out. But he needed to know Sam had really thought things through.

Sam sighed. "I'm not sure how to handle Grandma," he admitted. "And your dad doesn't need to know about...this."

Dean pulled into a spot outside of Sam's apartment. He turned the key and listened to the click of the cooling engine in the sudden silence. He turned to Sam. "There's no going back if we-"

Sam stared back at him, eyes glittering. "I don't care."

Dean swallowed and gave a nod of agreement. Something had been set in motion all those months ago and Dean couldn't see it play out any other way.

"Inside," Sam growled, pushing his door open. He tossed one last look over his shoulder before slipping out. "Now."

Dean wasted no time following Sam. His blood felt like fire in his veins, his skin stretched tight against tense muscles. This was really going to happen.

Dean watched the way Sam's jeans shaped around his legs as he climbed the stairs two at a time, watched the way Sam's muscles shifted under the thin t-shirt. When they reached Sam's door, Dean pressed up against his back, leaning in to inhale the scent that was purely Sam. "Hurry." He leaned in, nipping at a spot just behind Sam's ear.

"I'm trying, jackass," Sam grumbled, his hands trembling as he tried to fit the key in the lock. With a quiet cry of triumph, Sam turned the knob and the door swung open.

Dean shoved Sam through the archway and kicked the door shut behind them. He grabbed Sam's arm and swung them around, slamming Sam back up against the heavy wood. "Last chance," he growled into the soft skin of Sam's neck.

"I'm not changing my mind." Sam's voice was quiet and strained, but Dean heard him clear as day.

Dean had enough talking. He surged forward and pressed their lips together, smirking as Sam moaned into his mouth at the contact. Dean licked into Sam's mouth, tasting the tang of tomato sauce and the bitter flavor of beer. Sam's fingers slipped under the hem of Dean's shirt, tracing patterns against bare skin.

Dean pushed a thigh between Sam's legs and dropped his mouth to Sam's neck, scraping his teeth along the underside of Sam's jaw. Sam groaned and dropped his head back as far as he could, giving Dean better access. Dean pressed sucking kisses along the tender flesh before biting down on the sloping curve of his neck, causing Sam to grind down on his thigh.

"Fuck," Sam growled, his hand fisting in the back of Dean's shirt, attempting to pull him even closer. "Please tell me I'm not alone in this. Tell me you want this, too."

Dean rocked his hips forward, letting the hard line of his cock press up against Sam's stomach. "You tell me. I think the answer is fucking obvious." He pulled back slightly, ignoring Sam's whine at the loss of contact. He wrapped the soft cotton of Sam's shirt around his hands and turned toward Sam's room, pulling him along behind him. Once they walked through the doorway, Dean twisted around and pushed his hand up, still wrapped in Sam's shirt, exposing the smooth skin of Sam's flat stomach.

With a small laugh, Sam grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, trapping his arms and Dean's hand in the fabric. Dean pushed the shirt over Sam's head and freed his hand, leaving Sam's arms trapped behind him, and gave him a push backwards.

Startled, Sam fell backwards onto the bed, a soft whoosh escaping as he landed. He wriggled around, finally freeing his arms from their prison. He reached for the button of his jeans but before he could get too far, Dean held out a hand to stop him.

"Wait." Dean coughed, trying to clear his throat. "Just want to-"

He couldn't continue but Sam seemed to understand, stilling his frantic movements. Dean raked his eyes over Sam's prone form. From the shaggy mop of brown hair to the flushed golden skin to the trail of dark hair leading down into unbuttoned jeans, Sam was the image of debauchery and Dean had never wanted someone so much before. Sam's cheeks grew pink and he chewed on his lower lip, dropping his eyes away from Dean's steady gaze. There was a tightness in Dean's chest, surprise that this was actually happening.

"Dean-" Sam's voice broke on his name, the single syllable getting tripped up on his tongue, and Dean finally took pity on him.

Dean reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it swiftly over his head. He could feel Sam's eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, smirked when he heard the sharp inhale as he tugged his zipper down. He wanted to draw this out, to tease Sam even more, but he was driving himself mad. He shoved his thumbs in the waistband and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one quick movement.

His cock sprung up, flushed and red, free from its denim confines. Sam stared at him, dragging his tongue along his lower lip. "God Dean, you're-"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing Sam's hips. Sam pushed himself up on one elbow and reached up with the other hand, grabbing hold of Dean's amulet and using it to pull him down, crushing their lips together.

Dean licked his way into Sam's mouth, his tongue brushing against Sam's in slow, easy movements. Sam groaned into his mouth and bucked his hips up.

"Shhhh..." Dean murmured. He used his thumb to trace the outline of Sam's cock, causing Sam to whimper. Dean sat back on his heels and stared at Sam, flushed and gorgeous beneath him.

He gave Sam a wicked smile and reached for the waist of Sam's jeans. He took his time, unzipping them slowly, the click click of metal teeth echoing in the quiet of the room. Dean ignored his own need, wanting to make this good for Sam, wanting to drive Sam crazy.

Dean slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Sam's boxers, stroking the soft skin on Sam's hips. "You been with many guys before, Sam?" It was a struggle to keep his voice calm and steady, to hide the reaction Sam was invoking.

Sam hissed, biting down on a groan. "A few," he admitted, his hips twisting under Dean's assault.

Dean closed his eyes against the sudden flare of jealousy. He opened them again to stare down at Sam. "Well, you won't remember any of them when we're through."

Sam's breath hitched and his hips slammed up at the sound of Dean's possessive growl. "Then get on with it already."

Dean gave a low chuckle and slid backwards off the bed, pulling Sam's jeans off as he moved. Once standing, he nodded at Sam's boxers. "Take 'em off."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Not going to help me?"

"Nope," Dean shrugged one shoulder. "I'm just going to stand here and enjoy the view."

Sam flushed but did as he was told, shirking his underwear in seconds. He reached down and wrapped long fingers around his cock, stroking slowly. He stared up at Dean, defiance warring with lust in his eyes.

Dean watched Sam move, watched narrow hips thrust upwards into the loose circle of his fist. Dean's blood rushed south, leaving him breathless, and he moved back to the bed, slowly crawling up Sam's body. He ducked his head down low, latching his lips to a dusky nipple, biting and licking as Sam writhed beneath him. He turned his attention to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before working his way down Sam's chest.

"This was from a chupacabra," he said before dragging his tongue along the length of a two inch scar on Sam's side. He mouthed a second mark, about an inch above Sam's belly button. "And this was a poltergeist back in Nebraska when you were twelve. Bastard threw you into a mirror."

Dean continued on his path, giving special attention to each of Sam's numerous scars, murmuring the details of their origins into his soft skin. When his chin bumped against the head of Sam's cock, Dean could feel Sam trembling with need, his stomach muscles tense and shaking beneath his fingertips.

He took a moment to inhale, taking in the heavy musk scent of Sam's arousal, and then sucked him down. He hummed low in his throat, eyes never leaving Sam's face. Sam reached down, wrapping a huge palm around the back of Dean's head, not guiding, just holding on.

Sam's hips pushed up into Dean's hand and he used his thumb to rub small circles into Sam's skin, mirroring the movement of his tongue. He watched Sam for his reactions, trying to gauge what was working and what was not.

Sam's hand tightened around the base of Dean's skull and then he pulled him off. "Too close." Sam panted, out of breath. "Don't want-"

Dean allowed Sam to pull him up until they were stretched out side by side. Sam leaned in crushing their lips together. He reached a hand down and palmed Dean's erection, making him groan. Sam moved closer and kept his strokes slow and even. He nipped at the sensitive spot just below Dean's ear. "I want you to fuck me."

Dean growled, twisting his hips in Sam's grip, trying to get more friction. "God yes." It was more an exhale than actual words but he knew Sam understood their meaning.

Sam rolled over, turning away from Dean to dig through the drawer in his nightstand. He found what he was looking for and tossed a tube of lube and condoms on the bed. He laid back, spreading his legs wide and Dean slipped between them.

Dean's heart was pounding a fast, steady rhythm in his chest. He looked at Sam, spread out and vulnerable beneath him and he swore to himself that he'd make it good for Sam.

Sam huffed a breath and reached down, wrapping a hand around Dean's cock and giving it a tug.

Dean's hips snapped forward. "Christ, Sam," he gritted out. "You trying to tell me something."

Sam grinned, dimples showing. "Yeah, you're taking too long."

Dean reached for the lube and popped the top, muttering about guys with no patience. He slathered the cool gel on his fingers and reached between their bodies. He lifted an eyebrow in silent question and Sam nodded, chewing on his lower lip.

He leaned over Sam's body, covering him as he worked his fingers inside him. He watched Sam's face carefully for signs of pain or discomfort. Sam winced slightly and Dean stopped. "You ok?"

Sam took a deep breath and nodded, his movements a little shaky. "Yeah, just been awhile."

Dean could feel Sam trembling beneath him, around him. He tipped his head down and pressed his lips to the underside of Sam's jaw. Sam pushed his head back into the mattress, exposing more of his neck to Dean's wandering mouth. Dean alternated between bites and licks as he worked his fingers in Sam's body, scissoring and stretching as Sam moaned his approval.

"Fuck," Sam groaned. "I'm ready."

Dean pulled back and gave Sam an uncertain look. "You sure?"

Sam growled and pushed down on Dean's fingers. "Just fuck me already."

Dean pulled his fingers out and Sam whimpered at the loss. He grabbed one of the condoms and ripped the foil packaging with his teeth before slipping it on. Sam poured some lube on his hand and reached out, stroking Dean's cock, getting it slicked up and ready.

Dean shifted his hips and moved into position. Sam nodded his head and Dean slowly pushed forward. "Holy fuck," his voice was quiet as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle.

Sam exhaled, forcing himself to relax. "Hang on." He put a hand on Dean's arm. "Give me a second."

Dean held his breath, not daring to move until Sam gave him a shaky nod. He was so focused on the feel of Sam stretched around him, hot and tight, that he was startled when he bottomed out. He held himself still, giving Sam time to adjust to the intrusion. He clenched his teeth and focused on his breathing.

Sam shifted his hips and gave them a slow rock, dragging a long moan from Dean. He wrapped his long legs around Dean's hips. "Ok. Move."

Dean began to rock his hips gently, slowly building up speed. He thrust into Sam's body, trying to bury himself so deep he would never find his way out. Dean could feel Sam's heels pressed into his ass, his legs spread wide to pull Dean in deeper. Dean pulled out and snapped his hips forward, drawing a low groan from Sam's lips. He repeated the action and knew he had to be doing something right when Sam's eyes fluttered shut and his fingers dug into Dean's biceps.

"Oh God, right there." Sam bit his lip and clenched his muscles and Dean's vision whited out at the pressure.

Dean reached down with one hand and wrapped it around Sam's cock, tugging it as he thrust. He could tell Sam was close, he just needed-

Sam's fingers dug into the tender flesh of Dean's back as he spilled across Dean's hand. Dean kept stroking, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular before he followed Sam over the edge.

Dean slipped out, tying off the condom and tossing it in the direction of the garbage can. He flopped back on the bed, completely spent. Sam turned on his side, his hand gently tracing Dean's ribs. Dean exhaled, mind spinning. He just slept with his brother. He had fucked Sam. And he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to handle that.

Sam looked up at him, eyes wide and skin flushed. The steady motion of his hand faltered. "You're not regretting this, are you?"

Sam's voice wavered but he slipped his arm down and wrapped it around Dean's waist, as if to hide his uncertainty.

Dean knew this was the part where he should be freaking out. He should be panicking, but he wasn't. Instead, there was a deep calm within him, as if his entire life had been leading up to this moment and what had happened between them had been inevitable. Things between them felt right in a way nothing else had before. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pulling Sam close.

"No," he mumbled into Sam's hair. "No regrets."

xxxxxx

Dean slowly opened his eyes, blinking the world into focus as he tried to determine what had woken him up at that god awful hour.

Sam rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. "Dude, do something about your fucking phone."

Sure enough, Dean's phone was beeping at him from the pocket of his jeans, tossed somewhere in the direction of the door. Grumbling to himself, Dean swung his legs around, placing both feet on the thick carpet.

Sam glanced over at his alarm clock, frown firmly in place. "God, it's not even six."

Dean shook his head, amused, as he grabbed his jeans off the floor and dug through the pockets for the offending object. "Aren't you usually out running by now?"

Sam shrugged, watching him through sleep heavy eyes. "Class isn't until ten." He grinned. "Besides, didn't really sleep much last night."

"That so?" Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned down to brush his lips against Sam's.

Sam stretched his arms above his head and winced at the pull of muscles. He caught Dean's eye and gave him a crooked smile. "Don't worry, just sore."

Dean gave him a nod and flipped open his phone, turning his attention to the small screen. "Fuck."

"What?" Sam struggled to sit up, the sheets pooling loosely around his waist.

"Dad."

Sam frowned. "Another job?"

Dean could only nod. There was a time not so long ago that he waited for the text messages from his father, eager to travel the country, ridding the world of evil. But that was before. He could still feel the excitement of a new hunt thrumming in his veins, his curiosity about what it could be already piqued. But then he glanced over at Sam, barely awake, hair sticking in all directions, and Dean didn't know how he was supposed to react.

He hit reply and watched as Sam lay back down and buried himself further under the covers, his mop of brown hair a stark contrast to the white of the sheets. Dean resisted the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the shaggy mess as he waited for his dad to pick up.

"You get the coordinates?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his father's idea of a greeting. "Yes sir."

He could almost see John's curt nod in his mind. "Voodoo problem down in New Orleans. Should probably take you no more than a couple of weeks to clear up. You can check in with Caleb when you get there and he'll give you the details."

Dean frowned. New Orleans was a long way away from California. Away from Sam. "What about you?"

"I've got this case in Jericho, California. Missing persons, all male, dating back twenty years."

Dean's mind raced. Jericho was a lot closer than New Orleans. Maybe he could convince his dad to-

"You know, I'm not that far from California."

"I've got it covered." John's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "You just get yourself to New Orleans." John paused while Dean quietly seethed. "Dean? You hear me?"

"Yes sir." His teeth hurt from clenching them so hard.

"I'll be in touch." Before Dean could say another word, his father disconnected. He flipped the phone closed and flung it onto his jeans, still in a pile on the floor. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a trembling hand. Sometimes his father's no-nonsense, don't-even-think-about-arguing-with-me-and-do-as-you're-told attitude got under his skin. It hadn't always been like that. Sam used to call him Dad's perfect soldier, always doing what he was told without question. Sam, on the other hand, fought every last order. Maybe Sam hadn't been completely wrong.

"Well that sounded pleasant."

Dean glanced over to find his brother staring up at him through hooded eyes. He sighed. "Looks like I'm going to New Orleans for a few weeks."

Sam frowned, obviously unhappy with the news. "Well that sucks."

"Tell me about it," Dean laid back down and turned on his side, facing Sam. "No arguing. Just do as you're told, like always."

Sam scrunched his nose up. "Maybe it's a good thing I don't remember the guy."

"The guy is Dad." Dean closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Sam's memories of his real history were spotty at best. He could remember Pastor Jim and Bobby. He could recall the quickest way to dispel a restless spirit and the book that Dean used to read to him when he was little. His Latin was impeccable. But he couldn't remember Dad. Not one memory of the man who raised them.

Just when Dean wanted to scream about the holes in Sam's memory, he remembered the years of endless fights and constant battles. "But then again, maybe you're right."

"So when do you have to leave?"

Dean gave an awkward shrug. "Soon enough. Gotta check in with Caleb, another hunter Dad knows. Don't want to be too late."

Sam leaned in closer. "But you don't have to leave right now, do you?"

Dean shook his head and caught the glimmer in Sam's eye. He pressed in, his lips hovering over Sam's. "Why? You got something in mind?"

"I might." Sam's tongue darted out, tracing the underside of Dean's lip, making him groan. He surged forward, rolling Sam beneath him as he crushed their mouths together.

"I like the way you think," he murmured on a soft exhale, earning a breathy laugh from Sam.

If his Dad was right, he would be stuck in New Orleans for a couple of weeks. This thing with Sam was still new, uncertain. If this morning was all the time he had left, he planned to make the most of it. And Sam, wriggling a hand down between them, seemed to be down with the plan.

New Orleans? Well, New Orleans could wait a few hours more.

xxxxxx

"So how much longer before you come home?"

Dean sighed and fell back onto the bed, digging his fingers into his temple. "I don't know, Sam. This is some seriously fucked up shit."

Sam groaned. "I haven't seen you in two weeks."

Dean grinned at Sam's low whine. "Aw, Sammy...miss me?"

The hunt in New Orleans was taking far longer than Dean had originally thought. After two weeks, he finally had a breakthrough, locating the voodoo priestess just north of the swamplands that was causing him so much trouble. Dean finally felt like the case was moving forward, an end in sight.

"You know I do."

Dean swallowed at Sam's low growl. His fingers itched, wanting nothing more than to wrap around Sam's hips and pull him close. But he was alone in his room, his bed cold and empty.

"Yeah, yeah. You, too."

Dean may be getting soft when it comes to Sam, but he was still a guy. There was only so much he was willing to share. But he missed Sam like an amputated limb. And now that this whatever had started up between them, that distance seemed even greater.

"Shouldn't be much longer." Dean kicked off his boots onto the floor as he stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, picturing Sam at home in bed, curled up beneath the sheets with the phone tucked below his ear. "I'll be back soon enough. Just got to shut this bitch down first."

"I know." Sam muttered and Dean smiled. Sam sounded like a little kid. Dean could tell he was pouting.

"You're not going to be back in time for Halloween, are you?"

Dean frowned. "Probably not. Why?"

Sam sighed. "Just that stupid party Jess is making me go to. I hate Halloween."

"Yeah, you always did." Dean thought back on past Halloweens, knowing exactly where Sam's dislike stemmed from. The supernatural used the holiday as a day to party and hunters were often kept busy. Dean frowned, hated being away from Sam, unable to keep him safe. He groaned and changed the subject.

"You done with midterms yet?"

"I just have one more to go, tomorrow afternoon."

Dean could hear the exhausted edge to Sam's voice and wished he could push Sam into bed, force him to sleep for a few days.

Sam sighed. "I should probably go. I need to study."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I should probably check in with Caleb and get some sleep myself."

Sam grew quiet and Dean frowned, waiting for him to say something else.

"Call you tomorrow?"

Dean bit his lip. He could tell that wasn't what Sam wanted to ask but he knew better than to push. "I'll be here."

"Good." Dean could hear the small smile in Sam's voice. "Night Dean."

Dean smiled up at the ceiling. He was almost done and soon he'd be able to say the words to Sam's face, to see his reactions up close. He just had to finish the job first.

"Night Sam."

Part 5