Blood Bound 7?
Title: Blood Bound 7/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
Bright yellow eyes peered out from within the leafy branches to glance at the boy walking languidly along a dirt path that led to an abandoned cabin in the woods. His steps were sloppy and unsure, his bent head causing sweaty bangs to plaster to his forehead in the scorching heat of the summer sun. From where he was standing, Azazel had a hard time seeing the child's face, but the whimpers falling from his lips were enough to know that he was crying.
As the prowling demon struggled to see the child's face, a rumble of thunder from somewhere in the distance had the boy glancing worriedly at the incoming clouds. The dark hazel eyes made the scheming man smile in triumph, the beautiful satisfaction that came with being so close to Samuel Winchester better than any orgasm he could ever remember having. The boy was finally here, right in front of him. It was time to make his move.
"Psst. Hey, kid! You alright?"
Sam whirled around at the sound of the tiny hiss. His body began to shake uncontrollably from the sobs threatening to spill from his mouth. The heaving breaths erupted into a fit of cries when the strange man in front of him immediately wrapped his arms around his shoulders and asked what was wrong. Without thinking of the consequences, the tired boy relayed the events of the past 24 hours into the chest of the kind stranger, glad to have the heavy burden of information lifted off his tense shoulders. The idea that he shouldn't be so forthcoming with someone he'd known for less than a minute hadn't crossed his mind, for he was too enraptured in his own misery to care about how reckless he was being with himself and the people he knew and cared about. The flood of pain and despair raging within him was too strong, the self-loathing too intense for him to think of anything other than releasing it all into the summer air where it could no longer bother him.
"Well," the stranger chuckled, "it certainly seems like you've had your hands full. You poor, poor thing. Why don't I take you to my little cabin just around the corner and get you a nice glass of fresh lemonade. Whaddya say?"
Sam smiled through his tears, his sad eyes gleaming in the daylight. "O-okay."
Azazel tried to contain his excitement at Sam's response. Ushering the child around the corner, he walked up the steps to the cabin and held the door open for his boy. Making sure Sam was safe and sound at the kitchen table, he proceeded to retrieve two tall glasses from the overhead cupboard before pouring the dull yellow liquid into the cups, lifting his head long enough to send a tiny smile Sam's way. When he was finished, he cautiously approached the sniffling boy.
"Drink this. It'll help you feel better."
Sam took a long sip while looking up from beneath his long eyelashes. Azazel's hands tightened around each other, the sudden urge to take the boy overwhelming. He had no idea he was destined for such greatness, but Azazel would make him see. He'd turn that fragile innocence into something else entirely, warp the child's naïve mind to his way of thinking until he had the perfect little fighting machine. Sam would then be ready to do his bidding, to be the key ingredient in his master plan for world domination.
"Are you okay?" Sam's quiet voice rang out in the tiny room, disrupting the demon's wicked thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yes, yes. I'm fine. Now…why don't you tell me about yourself, uh…?"
"Sam."
Azazel smiled. "Sam. Nice to meet ya, kid. You can call me Hank. I like that name."
"Is it your real one?"
"Well, no. But I don't like my real name so Hank will do just fine."
"Okay," Sam smiled.
Azazel listened intently to Sam's life story, most of which he already knew. What surprised him was the amount of time he spent talking about his brother. Of course, he didn't know that Dean was his brother yet, but the way he spoke about him was enough for the demon to know that he was sexually attracted to the young man, regardless of how he treated him.
"So, then Dean just…I don't know. He yelled at me and I freaked out on him and just…took off. Now I have no idea where I am and I've been walking all day and all night."
"So…you've been walking since yesterday afternoon? How is it possible that these people who care about you haven't found you yet? You mentioned something about a Missouri?"
Sam's soft smile took the demon by surprise. "I have no doubt that she will find me eventually. But I'm not sure if I want to go home. There's too much to deal with over there and I feel overwhelmed. It's like I have this huge weight on my shoulders and I have so much to worry about. There are people who want to hurt me and all Dean can think about is himself."
"Again with this Dean. You've mentioned him a lot since you've been here. Is this boy special to you?"
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Well…I know he shouldn't be. You know, because I hardly know him and all. But it's like I feel this strange connection to him and I have no idea what it is."
"Well, in my experience-"
"Which I'm guessing is considerable."
"Yes. When someone feels a special connection to another human being, I believe that that's the universe's way of trying to tell you something. Maybe this Dean is your soul mate. Either that or maybe he's just someone you're destined to have in your life."
"Maybe. But I just don't see how I can make him like me. I want him to like me. I try to get him to like me. But it's like…it's like he purposefully pushes me away. He doesn't seem to want anyone near him and I think he feels that if he needs to insult you or be a jerk to you to get his message across and to get you to hate him then that's what he'll do and it's just…impossible to break through his force field."
Azazel smiled. "Everyone has a chink in their armor, Sam. You've just gotta find it."
Sam looked fondly at his newfound friend, glad to finally have somebody who genuinely cared about what he was feeling. Well, he knew Missouri cared and he knew his dad cared. But with Hank, he felt like he could tell him anything and never get judged for it. That alone was worth more to Sam than anything else in the world.
"Do you think we could hang out more? You know…like friends? I don't have many friends."
Sam put his head down in shame and Azazel looked at him rather intently. "I can't understand why. You're a special boy, Samuel. More special than you realize."
Azazel lifted the boy's chin and looked deeply into his eyes, reveling in the tiny shiver he got in return for the intimate gesture. The silence the action caused gave the demon time to truly appreciate the face of his most prized possession. If he leaned in any closer, he'd be able to feel those soft lips against his own. He had no doubt the boy would take what he gave him gratefully. Hell, his vulnerability would probably make him susceptible to much more than a kiss from his new "friend." It was for this reason that he had inhabited the body of that thirty year old doctor from Kentucky with the beautiful blue eyes and the dazzling smile, knowing full well that the man's handsome face would render the child before him incapable of rational thought when the time was right…but it wasn't. At least…not yet.
"Um…I-I should probably be going," Sam stuttered, his face flushed.
"I could take you," Azazel murmured, dragging the pad of his thumb over the boy's lower lip.
Sam recoiled, fear and arousal warring for dominance inside his befuddled mind. "Okay. Um, yeah. That'll be fine."
Azazel smiled warmly, turning his head to hide the flash of yellow that overtook the blue irises of his detestable meat suit. After all this time, the tide was finally turning. He was on the verge of getting what was his, and nothing was going to stand in the way. After all this time, he finally had what he wanted.
He had Sam Winchester.
The repeated ticking of the clock on the wall rang loudly in the ears of Bobby and Missouri, the silence between them doing nothing to lessen the mounting frustration that came from waiting for Dean to get back from his search for Sam. 24 hours had passed since he'd been gone, and after the fight between Dean and Bobby that almost turned physical, tensions were still high enough that Missouri couldn't get Bobby to say one word to her in the entire time her son had been out there looking.
Ever since Dean came to bail her out from yet another run in with the law, Missouri had been reexamining her parenting skills when it came to her stubborn boy, convinced that his outburst where Sam was concerned was just him taking out all the anger that was supposed to be directed at her out on the only person that was there to hear him. Knowing this was as good as admitting her guilt in everything that had happened, and she wasn't able to look at herself in the mirror without feeling like the whole situation she was in now was her fault. If anything happened to Sam, she didn't think she'd ever be able to forgive herself. More importantly, she knew Dean would never forgive himself either.
Deciding that her dark thoughts had gone on long enough, she attempted to make conversation with the angry man beside her on the living room couch, his folded arms and deep scowl a huge indication that he was still fuming from his fight with Dean. Knowing this, she thought it best to approach with caution.
"You have a beautiful boy, Mr. Singer. Not only that, but a smart boy. I know he's going to be just fine."
Bobby's mouth twitched, but other than that, he stayed completely silent. Encouraged by this, Missouri spoke again.
"I know that what Dean said to him made him run away but this isn't his fault."
"Not his fault?" Bobby whispered, his eerily calm tone making her fall short. "My boy-" Bobby choked on his words as he struggled not to cry- "my boy is out there, lord knows if he's okay or not, walking around in a town that he's not at all familiar with, and all you can say is that none of this is Dean's fault? Sam never would have walked off if it wasn't for that little bastard."
"And that 'little bastard' is doing all that he can to make it right and bring your boy home," Missouri countered, rage building up inside of her at the insult to her son.
"Heh," Bobby chuckled darkly, standing to his feet and pacing back and forth on the thick carpet under his feet. "Makin' it right, eh? Let me tell you something, Missouri; that boy of yours is no good. He can't even muster up enough sympathy to treat my boy with some damn respect after the hell he's been through, a hell that up until now, I wasn't even aware of. Instead of showing Sammy some goddamn love and affection, he acts as if my son is nothing but a fucking burden to him. God forbid he show a little fucking compassion for anyone but himself. Your son is a menace! He's a motherfucking brat who needs to get a good ass whoopin' and let me tell you, if he doesn't bring my son home safely, I am going to kill that punk. I will rip his insides out and shove them down his fucking throat! I swear I'll kill him for doing this to me…to my son. He's all I have left in this world!"
The sight of the tears spilling from the older man's cheeks made Missouri spring up and wrap Bobby in her arms, falling with him to the ground as his legs caved out from under him.
"Where's my boy?" he sobbed. "I want my son. Please, give me back my Sammy."
Missouri held on as the heart wrenching sobs coming from the man in her arms threatened to push her over the edge of despair. She had to be strong for the both of them, to have faith that Dean would bring Sam home safe and sound. The poor boy was probably out there with Dean's awful words ringing in his head, perhaps thinking that maybe he was right and that Sam really was a burden. Little does he know, his feelings of self-loathing were nothing compared to Dean's, who had a look of such stinging pain on his face the entire time he told Missouri exactly what happened between him and Sam. Her son may have his problems, but he was capable of love. It was just too bad she was the only one who could see it.
The sound of the Impala's engine made both parents stand at attention, each holding their breath as the front door opened to reveal a very somber looking Dean. When he shot a glance in their direction and shook his head, both of their faces fell. Bobby uttered a cry of anguish and fell back to the ground while Missouri stared at the tears her son was trying to keep in for the sake of appearances. Her heart felt as if it would cave in on itself if she didn't find their Sammy, a threat that was becoming more and more promising as time went on. With Dean's lack of luck after a 24 hour search, it was doubtful that any of them would find the boy now.
Just as Missouri was considering calling on Gabriel for help, another car pulled into the parking lot. Dean stared in shock as Sam got out of the strange Jeep Wrangler accompanied by an even stranger man who walked with his arms around the boy in a slightly possessive gesture.
"Sam!" Bobby yelled, rushing to take his loving boy into his arms. "Oh, god. Oh, Sammy. Don't you ever do that to me again, damn you. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry, dad," Sam whispered, not returning the hug his father gave him. "It won't happen again, I promise."
A familiar feeling of connectivity surged through the recovered boy, making him look up and lock eyes with Dean. Both boys stared at each other as a visual dance of longing and relief displayed itself in the looks they gave one another, a tiny, humorless smile tugging at the corners of Sam's lips at the reluctant desire showing up in Dean's expression. The stubborn teenager could hide it all he wanted, but Sam knew that he was getting to the older boy and him being away where Dean couldn't find him must have deepened the ache he just knew was developing inside Dean, an ache Sam knew was all for him.
Breaking free of his father, Sam slowly made his way over to Dean, stopping in front of him. He could feel the older boy's body stiffen from the close proximity, his jaw clenching and unclenching in perfect rhythm with the fists he held at his sides. Stepping up close until their lips were just inches apart, Sam looked into his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to hide his anguished expression.
"Miss me?" he whispered.
Dean's pained look became more pronounced, the sight of it capturing so much of Sam's attention that the feeling of Dean's possessive grip at his waist took him by surprise as he pulled Sam flush against him, putting their foreheads together.
"Don't you ever do that again," his deep voice rumbled, breathing heavily through his nose.
"Okay…sir," Sam replied teasingly, a tiny sigh escaping his lips at the low growl Dean let out.
"Sam!" Hank called out.
Both boys turned to face Sam's rescuer. "I gotta head out. I was just speaking to your dad and he asked if I wanted to have dinner with you guys on Friday night. You game?"
"Sure!" Sam replied excitedly, his happiness short-lived as he felt hands grip the sides of his hips once again. He was pulled so his back was pressed against Dean's chest, the action making Sam smile.
"Who the hell is that?" Dean snarled in his ear.
"The man who saved me from roaming the streets, that's who. He's become a friend of mine."
"I don't trust him. Invite me over on Friday."
"But-"
"Now, Sam."
Sam chuckled darkly, turning his head so that he could gaze into Dean's green eyes.
"Okay, then," Sam murmured. "Come over on Friday."
Dean glared at Sam. "Fine."
As Dean pushed Sam away and stormed off inside the house, Sam caught Missouri's eye and smirked conspiratorially at her. She returned his grin with a knowing smile, the events of the last couple of minutes not lost upon the smart woman.
So…Dean was capable of jealousy when it came to Sam as well as his mother. Sam knew the older boy didn't realize it yet, but this entire experience had made him more possessive of Sam than ever, and the scheming boy had absolutely no doubt that he was going to use Friday to exploit that. He could see of no other alternative to getting close to the reluctant teenager. If Dean wouldn't open up to Sam on his own, then he'd just have to give him a little push in the direction he wanted Dean to go in. Maybe after all this was over, he could finally get what he just now realized he wanted...Dean.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
Bright yellow eyes peered out from within the leafy branches to glance at the boy walking languidly along a dirt path that led to an abandoned cabin in the woods. His steps were sloppy and unsure, his bent head causing sweaty bangs to plaster to his forehead in the scorching heat of the summer sun. From where he was standing, Azazel had a hard time seeing the child's face, but the whimpers falling from his lips were enough to know that he was crying.
As the prowling demon struggled to see the child's face, a rumble of thunder from somewhere in the distance had the boy glancing worriedly at the incoming clouds. The dark hazel eyes made the scheming man smile in triumph, the beautiful satisfaction that came with being so close to Samuel Winchester better than any orgasm he could ever remember having. The boy was finally here, right in front of him. It was time to make his move.
"Psst. Hey, kid! You alright?"
Sam whirled around at the sound of the tiny hiss. His body began to shake uncontrollably from the sobs threatening to spill from his mouth. The heaving breaths erupted into a fit of cries when the strange man in front of him immediately wrapped his arms around his shoulders and asked what was wrong. Without thinking of the consequences, the tired boy relayed the events of the past 24 hours into the chest of the kind stranger, glad to have the heavy burden of information lifted off his tense shoulders. The idea that he shouldn't be so forthcoming with someone he'd known for less than a minute hadn't crossed his mind, for he was too enraptured in his own misery to care about how reckless he was being with himself and the people he knew and cared about. The flood of pain and despair raging within him was too strong, the self-loathing too intense for him to think of anything other than releasing it all into the summer air where it could no longer bother him.
"Well," the stranger chuckled, "it certainly seems like you've had your hands full. You poor, poor thing. Why don't I take you to my little cabin just around the corner and get you a nice glass of fresh lemonade. Whaddya say?"
Sam smiled through his tears, his sad eyes gleaming in the daylight. "O-okay."
Azazel tried to contain his excitement at Sam's response. Ushering the child around the corner, he walked up the steps to the cabin and held the door open for his boy. Making sure Sam was safe and sound at the kitchen table, he proceeded to retrieve two tall glasses from the overhead cupboard before pouring the dull yellow liquid into the cups, lifting his head long enough to send a tiny smile Sam's way. When he was finished, he cautiously approached the sniffling boy.
"Drink this. It'll help you feel better."
Sam took a long sip while looking up from beneath his long eyelashes. Azazel's hands tightened around each other, the sudden urge to take the boy overwhelming. He had no idea he was destined for such greatness, but Azazel would make him see. He'd turn that fragile innocence into something else entirely, warp the child's naïve mind to his way of thinking until he had the perfect little fighting machine. Sam would then be ready to do his bidding, to be the key ingredient in his master plan for world domination.
"Are you okay?" Sam's quiet voice rang out in the tiny room, disrupting the demon's wicked thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yes, yes. I'm fine. Now…why don't you tell me about yourself, uh…?"
"Sam."
Azazel smiled. "Sam. Nice to meet ya, kid. You can call me Hank. I like that name."
"Is it your real one?"
"Well, no. But I don't like my real name so Hank will do just fine."
"Okay," Sam smiled.
Azazel listened intently to Sam's life story, most of which he already knew. What surprised him was the amount of time he spent talking about his brother. Of course, he didn't know that Dean was his brother yet, but the way he spoke about him was enough for the demon to know that he was sexually attracted to the young man, regardless of how he treated him.
"So, then Dean just…I don't know. He yelled at me and I freaked out on him and just…took off. Now I have no idea where I am and I've been walking all day and all night."
"So…you've been walking since yesterday afternoon? How is it possible that these people who care about you haven't found you yet? You mentioned something about a Missouri?"
Sam's soft smile took the demon by surprise. "I have no doubt that she will find me eventually. But I'm not sure if I want to go home. There's too much to deal with over there and I feel overwhelmed. It's like I have this huge weight on my shoulders and I have so much to worry about. There are people who want to hurt me and all Dean can think about is himself."
"Again with this Dean. You've mentioned him a lot since you've been here. Is this boy special to you?"
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Well…I know he shouldn't be. You know, because I hardly know him and all. But it's like I feel this strange connection to him and I have no idea what it is."
"Well, in my experience-"
"Which I'm guessing is considerable."
"Yes. When someone feels a special connection to another human being, I believe that that's the universe's way of trying to tell you something. Maybe this Dean is your soul mate. Either that or maybe he's just someone you're destined to have in your life."
"Maybe. But I just don't see how I can make him like me. I want him to like me. I try to get him to like me. But it's like…it's like he purposefully pushes me away. He doesn't seem to want anyone near him and I think he feels that if he needs to insult you or be a jerk to you to get his message across and to get you to hate him then that's what he'll do and it's just…impossible to break through his force field."
Azazel smiled. "Everyone has a chink in their armor, Sam. You've just gotta find it."
Sam looked fondly at his newfound friend, glad to finally have somebody who genuinely cared about what he was feeling. Well, he knew Missouri cared and he knew his dad cared. But with Hank, he felt like he could tell him anything and never get judged for it. That alone was worth more to Sam than anything else in the world.
"Do you think we could hang out more? You know…like friends? I don't have many friends."
Sam put his head down in shame and Azazel looked at him rather intently. "I can't understand why. You're a special boy, Samuel. More special than you realize."
Azazel lifted the boy's chin and looked deeply into his eyes, reveling in the tiny shiver he got in return for the intimate gesture. The silence the action caused gave the demon time to truly appreciate the face of his most prized possession. If he leaned in any closer, he'd be able to feel those soft lips against his own. He had no doubt the boy would take what he gave him gratefully. Hell, his vulnerability would probably make him susceptible to much more than a kiss from his new "friend." It was for this reason that he had inhabited the body of that thirty year old doctor from Kentucky with the beautiful blue eyes and the dazzling smile, knowing full well that the man's handsome face would render the child before him incapable of rational thought when the time was right…but it wasn't. At least…not yet.
"Um…I-I should probably be going," Sam stuttered, his face flushed.
"I could take you," Azazel murmured, dragging the pad of his thumb over the boy's lower lip.
Sam recoiled, fear and arousal warring for dominance inside his befuddled mind. "Okay. Um, yeah. That'll be fine."
Azazel smiled warmly, turning his head to hide the flash of yellow that overtook the blue irises of his detestable meat suit. After all this time, the tide was finally turning. He was on the verge of getting what was his, and nothing was going to stand in the way. After all this time, he finally had what he wanted.
He had Sam Winchester.
The repeated ticking of the clock on the wall rang loudly in the ears of Bobby and Missouri, the silence between them doing nothing to lessen the mounting frustration that came from waiting for Dean to get back from his search for Sam. 24 hours had passed since he'd been gone, and after the fight between Dean and Bobby that almost turned physical, tensions were still high enough that Missouri couldn't get Bobby to say one word to her in the entire time her son had been out there looking.
Ever since Dean came to bail her out from yet another run in with the law, Missouri had been reexamining her parenting skills when it came to her stubborn boy, convinced that his outburst where Sam was concerned was just him taking out all the anger that was supposed to be directed at her out on the only person that was there to hear him. Knowing this was as good as admitting her guilt in everything that had happened, and she wasn't able to look at herself in the mirror without feeling like the whole situation she was in now was her fault. If anything happened to Sam, she didn't think she'd ever be able to forgive herself. More importantly, she knew Dean would never forgive himself either.
Deciding that her dark thoughts had gone on long enough, she attempted to make conversation with the angry man beside her on the living room couch, his folded arms and deep scowl a huge indication that he was still fuming from his fight with Dean. Knowing this, she thought it best to approach with caution.
"You have a beautiful boy, Mr. Singer. Not only that, but a smart boy. I know he's going to be just fine."
Bobby's mouth twitched, but other than that, he stayed completely silent. Encouraged by this, Missouri spoke again.
"I know that what Dean said to him made him run away but this isn't his fault."
"Not his fault?" Bobby whispered, his eerily calm tone making her fall short. "My boy-" Bobby choked on his words as he struggled not to cry- "my boy is out there, lord knows if he's okay or not, walking around in a town that he's not at all familiar with, and all you can say is that none of this is Dean's fault? Sam never would have walked off if it wasn't for that little bastard."
"And that 'little bastard' is doing all that he can to make it right and bring your boy home," Missouri countered, rage building up inside of her at the insult to her son.
"Heh," Bobby chuckled darkly, standing to his feet and pacing back and forth on the thick carpet under his feet. "Makin' it right, eh? Let me tell you something, Missouri; that boy of yours is no good. He can't even muster up enough sympathy to treat my boy with some damn respect after the hell he's been through, a hell that up until now, I wasn't even aware of. Instead of showing Sammy some goddamn love and affection, he acts as if my son is nothing but a fucking burden to him. God forbid he show a little fucking compassion for anyone but himself. Your son is a menace! He's a motherfucking brat who needs to get a good ass whoopin' and let me tell you, if he doesn't bring my son home safely, I am going to kill that punk. I will rip his insides out and shove them down his fucking throat! I swear I'll kill him for doing this to me…to my son. He's all I have left in this world!"
The sight of the tears spilling from the older man's cheeks made Missouri spring up and wrap Bobby in her arms, falling with him to the ground as his legs caved out from under him.
"Where's my boy?" he sobbed. "I want my son. Please, give me back my Sammy."
Missouri held on as the heart wrenching sobs coming from the man in her arms threatened to push her over the edge of despair. She had to be strong for the both of them, to have faith that Dean would bring Sam home safe and sound. The poor boy was probably out there with Dean's awful words ringing in his head, perhaps thinking that maybe he was right and that Sam really was a burden. Little does he know, his feelings of self-loathing were nothing compared to Dean's, who had a look of such stinging pain on his face the entire time he told Missouri exactly what happened between him and Sam. Her son may have his problems, but he was capable of love. It was just too bad she was the only one who could see it.
The sound of the Impala's engine made both parents stand at attention, each holding their breath as the front door opened to reveal a very somber looking Dean. When he shot a glance in their direction and shook his head, both of their faces fell. Bobby uttered a cry of anguish and fell back to the ground while Missouri stared at the tears her son was trying to keep in for the sake of appearances. Her heart felt as if it would cave in on itself if she didn't find their Sammy, a threat that was becoming more and more promising as time went on. With Dean's lack of luck after a 24 hour search, it was doubtful that any of them would find the boy now.
Just as Missouri was considering calling on Gabriel for help, another car pulled into the parking lot. Dean stared in shock as Sam got out of the strange Jeep Wrangler accompanied by an even stranger man who walked with his arms around the boy in a slightly possessive gesture.
"Sam!" Bobby yelled, rushing to take his loving boy into his arms. "Oh, god. Oh, Sammy. Don't you ever do that to me again, damn you. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry, dad," Sam whispered, not returning the hug his father gave him. "It won't happen again, I promise."
A familiar feeling of connectivity surged through the recovered boy, making him look up and lock eyes with Dean. Both boys stared at each other as a visual dance of longing and relief displayed itself in the looks they gave one another, a tiny, humorless smile tugging at the corners of Sam's lips at the reluctant desire showing up in Dean's expression. The stubborn teenager could hide it all he wanted, but Sam knew that he was getting to the older boy and him being away where Dean couldn't find him must have deepened the ache he just knew was developing inside Dean, an ache Sam knew was all for him.
Breaking free of his father, Sam slowly made his way over to Dean, stopping in front of him. He could feel the older boy's body stiffen from the close proximity, his jaw clenching and unclenching in perfect rhythm with the fists he held at his sides. Stepping up close until their lips were just inches apart, Sam looked into his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to hide his anguished expression.
"Miss me?" he whispered.
Dean's pained look became more pronounced, the sight of it capturing so much of Sam's attention that the feeling of Dean's possessive grip at his waist took him by surprise as he pulled Sam flush against him, putting their foreheads together.
"Don't you ever do that again," his deep voice rumbled, breathing heavily through his nose.
"Okay…sir," Sam replied teasingly, a tiny sigh escaping his lips at the low growl Dean let out.
"Sam!" Hank called out.
Both boys turned to face Sam's rescuer. "I gotta head out. I was just speaking to your dad and he asked if I wanted to have dinner with you guys on Friday night. You game?"
"Sure!" Sam replied excitedly, his happiness short-lived as he felt hands grip the sides of his hips once again. He was pulled so his back was pressed against Dean's chest, the action making Sam smile.
"Who the hell is that?" Dean snarled in his ear.
"The man who saved me from roaming the streets, that's who. He's become a friend of mine."
"I don't trust him. Invite me over on Friday."
"But-"
"Now, Sam."
Sam chuckled darkly, turning his head so that he could gaze into Dean's green eyes.
"Okay, then," Sam murmured. "Come over on Friday."
Dean glared at Sam. "Fine."
As Dean pushed Sam away and stormed off inside the house, Sam caught Missouri's eye and smirked conspiratorially at her. She returned his grin with a knowing smile, the events of the last couple of minutes not lost upon the smart woman.
So…Dean was capable of jealousy when it came to Sam as well as his mother. Sam knew the older boy didn't realize it yet, but this entire experience had made him more possessive of Sam than ever, and the scheming boy had absolutely no doubt that he was going to use Friday to exploit that. He could see of no other alternative to getting close to the reluctant teenager. If Dean wouldn't open up to Sam on his own, then he'd just have to give him a little push in the direction he wanted Dean to go in. Maybe after all this was over, he could finally get what he just now realized he wanted...Dean.