Fields of Gold Part Six

[deansdarkdream]

Dedication: To my Angels. I love you with every beat of my heart.
Title: Fields of Gold
Authors: DDD, L, and A
Rating: NC17
Pairings: Dean/Sam
Warnings: Based on a RL love story. Ecstasy, angst, tragedy and triumph.
Disclaimer: We don't own Dean, Sam or Cas.
A/N: Dean sets up a Foundation to rescue and rehabilitate horses. Dean and Sam help Max to heal.


Fields of Gold
Part Six

When I woke up, Max’s bed was empty. I found them in the kitchen, cooking up enough food for an army. Sam and I both loved breakfast and frequently made a big one on Sunday morning. He came to me as I walked into the room, folded me up in a warm hug, and then kissed me soundly with Max watching from the corner of his eye.

I pulled back and smiled at him. "Good morning, Stud.” I looked over Sam’s shoulder; Max had a small smile on his face. “Morning, Max. Feelin’ better this morning?”

His words were hesitant, but sincere. “Morning . . . Dean. Yeah, I am.”

We sat down to French toast, scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and orange juice. I hadn’t been around teenagers in a while and I was astounded at the amount of food Max put away. I made a mental note to tell Maria to double the grocery list as I watched him start on a third plateful. He was a little more talkative this morning, although I didn’t think anyone would ever accuse him of being a chatterbox.

He had on what looked like yesterday’s clothes and if that old paper bag was all Max had, we needed to go shopping before we did much of anything else.

“I’m heading for the mall this morning. I need some t-shirts,” I announced.

Sam glanced up with an incredulous look on his face. The second drawer of our tall dresser contained enough t-shirts to get me through the next year, but I needed some reason to get Max to the stores, so I thumped Sam in the shin with my bare foot and smiled hard at him.

The mall was quiet on a Sunday morning and it didn’t take us long to load Max up with jeans, shirts, a jacket, a few pair of shoes, a swimsuit, lots of socks and underwear. I figured he was coming to the final GP with us, so we got him a few pair of slacks, dress shirts and a sport coat. He was a little overwhelmed by all that, but livened up when we stopped for lunch. I was barely over breakfast but he wolfed down a double burger, a small mountain of fries, two large drinks, and most of my onion rings. I figured at this rate, he'd be up to normal weight in a week.

Max needed a decent haircut in the worst way so I decided to swing by my folks' place, calling first to make sure they were home.

Over the years, my parents had come to know Sam well. They’d eaten at his restaurant on a few special occasions and we’d visited them frequently at their place. They knew that Sam I were now a couple and they were happy about that, but we hadn’t burdened them with the ‘Rand situation’.

Although I’d explained on the phone that things had changed, Mom was a bit overwhelmed with the sight of Sam with the side of his head shaved, stitches and bruised eye.

I briefly explained the situation, saying only that we had run into a bit of a bad crowd and as a result, we got a great bonus in Max.

I smiled at Max and then at Mom. “Whadaya think, Mom, is there a hair-do in there?”

My Mom, Mary, had married my father 32 years ago, and at 52 still looked damn good with wavy gray hair and a mature version of the figure that had first caught my father’s eye.

She took one look at Max and went into nurturing mode.

Max didn’t stand a chance against Mary, and I tried to hide my smile as she sat him down, whisked a sheet around his shoulders and trimmed his shaggy head of hair into a tidy cut, still a little long but much more attractive. When he got up from the chair, she hugged him as she did all of us, for no reason whatsoever. After a frozen moment, Max wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes, and hugged her back for all he was worth. When she finally let him go, his cheeks were pink with embarrassed pleasure, but he was grinning.

He glanced up at me and in that moment, he was gorgeous. His face was too thin, but his smile was alive, his deep blue eyes were crinkled up, and I felt my heart melt a little more.

I turned quickly away and went to find Sam. He and my dad are buds and they were out nailing up one side of the decrepit chicken coop my mother had insisted on keeping when they bought the place just before I was born, claiming it had character. It had been a shack then and it was worse now, but the chickens didn’t seem to mind living in it, cranking out enough eggs to keep my folks and the neighbors well supplied. She sent us home with half a chocolate cake (over my father's protests), a dozen eggs, and a few late oranges from their little orchard.

Max ate the oranges on the 20 minute drive from their house to ours, and I feared for the cake but she hadn’t thought to include a fork so it made the trip intact.

We made a quick pass by the market for steaks and potatoes, a Starbucks to get us through until dinner, and finally made it home around four. I was exhausted and left the groceries to them, heading upstairs for a quick shower.

Sam climbed in halfway through, squeezed a big squirt of waterproof lube up my ass, propped one of my feet on the ledge, and bent me over as he slithered in from behind. Between him banging away at me and the water sluicing down on us, I came loud and noisy without even thinking about the fact that Max was somewhere around. Sam was laughing so hard he lost his concentration and I had to suck him off, sitting on the ledge with him standing in front of me. I got him back by shoving a slick finger up his butt just he started to blow, and his moans went up an octave as I kept him in my mouth ‘til he was doubled over and clinging to my shoulders.

When we finally made it downstairs, Max was in the den, stretched out on the couch with a book. I was glad to see that he didn’t automatically turn on the TV. He did salads again while I grilled the steaks, and Sam did something wonderful with the potatoes, which had been baking while we were carousing in the shower. They ended up back in their shells but mixed with sour cream, cheddar cheese, and a little garlic, then browned in the oven. I love having a chef in the family.

Max's conversation at dinner was better this time. Sam got him talking a little about what he’d like to do and I think we were both surprised when he said he wanted to get his GED, but he didn’t really want to go sit in a classroom all day. He’d left school in the middle of 10th grade when his home situation became intolerable. Max didn’t offer any details but the averted eyes told me it wasn’t good. We talked about his health, and although he was a bit timid about the subject, he agreed that he could probably use a physical. He also said he wanted to find a job so that he could pay us back for the clothes. I could hear the stubborn pride in his voice and didn’t argue about it, but suggested that he could come with me to Castlewood; we always needed another pair of hands. He didn’t know anything about horses, but was willing to give it a try so we decided he’d spend his days with me until we figured something out about a tutor.

After dinner, Sam grabbed Max and me by the hand and led us off to the den, flopping down against the arm of the sofa. I sat at the other end and waited to see what Max would do with this scenario. He eyed me for a moment, then sat down near Sam's feet. I was still feeling lazy so I slid down a bit, turned onto my side and swung my legs up across Max's lap, not bothering to watch his reaction. It wasn't long before he settled a warm hand onto my leg, and it was only another minute or two before he began a slow rub up and down my calf. He had a nice touch and I fell asleep to the soft murmur of their voices, waking when Sam shook my shoulder to go to bed.

Max had already gone up and his door was only closed about halfway tonight. I caught a glimpse of him reaching to turn out the lamp on his bedside table. He was bare from the waist up, his nipples a deep pink against the smooth, pale skin of his chest. His eyes met mine for a split second, and then his room went dark.

"'Night, Max. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight."

Sam smiled at me and we fell into bed. My nap had refreshed me to the point of feeling rowdy, so I slid down the bed until Sam's soft cock was level with my face and began to lick all around his groin, tickling my tongue into the soft crease of his thigh, sucking the wrinkled skin of his scrotum into my mouth, the taste, texture and scent of him exciting me. I got to his cock eventually, sliding one hand up his stomach onto his chest to rub a hard nipple with the pad of my finger as I ever so slowly sank my mouth down onto him. Each time my finger brushed across his nipple, his cock lurched in my throat and he groaned quietly.

I used my other hand to follow my mouth up and down his erection, and when my fingers were wet, I worked one into him, pulling back out to tease him with just the tip, wiggling it gently. Sam's knees had been gradually lifting as I got more serious about what I was doing, and now he pulled them back and arched his head into the mattress as I knelt to get a better angle on his cock. I kept at it for as long as I could, but Sam had other ideas and I soon found myself on my back with a mountain of pillows under my ass and my knees around my ears as he gave me the blue ribbon of rim jobs.

When I replied 'unhh' to his question of 'are you ready', he snorted, got to his feet and straddled me, angling his dick down to enter me in one long stroke. Since we've been screwing for so many years, we've gotten past the experimental phase and tend to use the handful of positions we've found work best for us, but now and then Sam surprises me, and this was one of those nights. This particular position wasn't terribly comfortable on my neck, but had the redeeming feature of almost constant prostate stimulation, and I didn't last long once Sam got into a rhythm of long, steady strokes. It was also different having my nuts hang down over my dick; my hand thumped into them each time I ran my fist to the base of my cock.

Mindless of the fact that Max was just down the hall, I came hard and loud. Sam pulled out of me and stroked himself to orgasm, bumping up against my butt each time he pumped into his hand. A handful of tissues later, we were snuggled up and drifting off when I heard Max cry out. Sam and I both held our breath to listen. After a moment, we heard him again.

“I'll go,” I whispered as I slid out of bed, holding up a hand to keep Sam where he was.

When I got to the door of Max's room, I could hear him breathing quickly as though he'd woken himself up, so I took a few steps into the room.

"Max? You okay?"

He replied with a quavery, "Uh-huh," but followed it up with a "No!" when I turned to go.

I walked to the bed where he was curled into a ball under the sheet, on his side, his arms clutched to his chest, so much like Sam was right after the attack. It hurt me to see Max like that. I sat on the edge of the mattress and slowly reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. At my touch, he curled closer and pressed his face against my leg, shaking a little. I rubbed my hand slowly around his back, over the knobs of his spine and the washboard of his ribs, bringing it up to softly squeeze the back of his neck now and then.

"It's alright, Max. You're safe with us. No one's gonna hurt you now."

He gave a small nod and his breathing evened out some. One hand left his chest and came up around my bare hip, hugging me to him. I stayed there for a long time, until I felt him begin to fall asleep again. As I stood, I bent over and kissed the top of his head, aching that his young life was so full of crap that he couldn't get through one night without the horror of it ripping him awake.

Sam was lying with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling when I came back to bed. He looked at me as I curled up next to him and held on tight.

Max didn't seem any the worse for wear the next morning, especially after the huge breakfast that Maria cooked once she saw how skinny he was. I drove to the barn with him beside me since he didn't know how to ride a horse yet; he was quiet but didn't seem particularly anxious at the prospect of meeting a bunch of new people and learning to do things he'd never even heard of. (He'd made a face the night before when I'd mentioned that mucking out stalls would be one of his duties. "Is that as bad as it sounds?" he'd asked.) I admired his reserved determination to pull his own weight.

I'd called James earlier that morning and he met us when we pulled in. I'd told him enough about Max's situation for him to understand that Max needed to be shown how to do almost everything, not just sent off to a stall with a grooming box in his hand. The next time I saw Max, he was carting a big load of dirty shavings across the yard to the dumpster. The wheelbarrow wobbled dangerously a few times, but he didn't lose any of his cargo.

When I went looking for Max at 5 o'clock, he was covered in hay chaff and looked exhausted. I felt a pang of guilt, remembering that he hadn't been eating all that well up until two days ago and that he probably really wasn't up to a full day of hard stable work; but he smiled when he saw me and we climbed into the car.

When we got home he went straight up to shower, and I wandered into the kitchen to greet Sam who was preparing twice the usual number of lamp chops for the broiler. He glanced up when I walked in.

"How'd it go?"

"Fine, I think. James said he worked hard, and he was dirty enough that I believe it."

Max went straight for the fridge and the lettuce when he came down a bit later. I don't know what else he knew how to make, but he was getting good at salads. We ate every last chop, two each for Sam and me, four for Max, then took the last of the cake to the den with coffee and another big glass of milk. He took one end of the couch this time so he could lean against the arm, Sam the other, and I flopped down in the middle. Max polished off the cake, gulped down his milk, and promptly fell asleep.

When Sam and I were ready to go upstairs, I shook Max's shoulder gently and he came awake with a start, ducking out from under my hand to cower on the floor. He recovered almost immediately, getting to his feet but moving out of my reach.

I was speechless for a moment, then, "God, Max, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, not looking at me as his breathing slowed. "It's okay. It scared me cause I was asleep." After another moment, he met my eyes and came close enough to lay a hand on my arm. "I’m sorry. I know you won't hurt me."

I just stood there, not sure what to do for him when he stepped closer to me, tentatively put his arms around my waist, and lay his head on my shoulder. I hugged him warmly, feeling the boney rub of his hip against my belly. We stood there for a long moment, then he pulled away and left the room.

That night Max slept clear through, not a peep from his room where he'd left the door wide open.

The next day, I took him to the clinic first thing in the morning. God knows what he'd been exposed to, and before he became sexually active again, I wanted to know he was healthy. Sam and I were familiar with the folks at the clinic, as they were with us; we were all on a first name basis. When it was Max’s turn, he touched my hand.

“Stay with me.” Quiet words that lit a warm little spark in my chest.

I had them give him the works and he endured it stoically, grimacing at the needles and crossing his eyes at me when he came out from behind the curtain from the prostate exam.

Tuesday evening was a repeat of Monday, except Max didn't fall asleep on the couch. He fell asleep at the dinner table, slumped in his chair while Sam and I lingered over coffee and the canollis. He woke up as we cleared the table, helped us half-heartedly, then went to bed.

Jesse called that evening. He’d completed the background check on Max and it was grim. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was 10, and he’d been shunted around the system for four years before running off. The last home he’d been in had recently been terminated as a foster home due to repeated neglect and reports of improper behavior on the part of the husband. There was no evidence that Max had been harmed by this man, but he’d run away for some reason.

Wednesday morning Max was quiet again at breakfast and I finally asked him if anything was wrong. He looked from me to Sam and back again.

"Today's my birthday," he said quietly.

Sam recovered first, glancing quickly at me, then to Max. "Congratulations. Eighteen, huh? I sorta remember being eighteen once.” Max chuckled at him. “Come by the restaurant after you guys get cleaned up tonight. We'll have dinner."

I looked at Max and nodded. "Yeah, we'll celebrate."

He looked pleased and I just hoped he'd be able to stay awake for it. With that in mind, I had him help me most of the day, introducing him to many of the owners, riders, and trainers who were around the stable each day. When we got over to the south barn, I noticed Cooper wasn't in his stall so we went out to the round pen where Gabriel had him trotting on a longe line. Barney looked great after three months of high quality feed and Sam's vitamin shots; his heavy muscles rippled under a glossy dark coat.

"How's he doing?" I called out to Gabriel.

"Great. Fat and sassy. No limp that I can see."

"Well, Faith said his tendon wasn't as bad as she first thought. Maybe he's had enough rest for it to have healed. Let's see what he's like to ride."

I tacked him up and had Gabriel give me a leg into the saddle. Cooper's ears waggled but he stood still as I got settled. When I nudged him out to the rail, he went willingly, stepping out when I legged him a little. I asked him for an extended trot and was amazed when he lifted into a lovely floating trot, each front leg striking out sharply before dropping lightly to the ground. Someone had put some dressage moves on this horse and he remembered them. I dropped back to a walk, then asked him for a canter; he transitioned smoothly, staying collected and in my hands. I walked him a bit more, and then gave him back to Gabriel.

"He seems fine. Why don't you ride him easy around the farm for about an hour a day; walk and trot only. Let's see how he does."

Gabriel smiled at me. "Great, I’d love to. Thanks."

I watched Gabriel as he led Cooper over to the rail and hopped on. He had become a good employee, quiet and busy, and he did more than just the job assigned.

Max and I headed back to the main barn when I heard the rattle of a horse trailer coming up the drive. We weren't expecting any incoming horses, so I paused to see who it was, surprised when Sky's ratty old Explorer pulled in towing an even older two-horse trailer. He hopped out and gave me a guarded look as he began to open the trailer doors.

"What have you got in there?" I asked him suspiciously.

"Another one."

"'Another one' what?" I asked, frowning at him, but I figured I already knew.

He had the doors open by then and instead of answering me, he put his hand on the boney rump of a horse as it backed out of the trailer. At least it used to be a horse before someone starved it near to death. This one was a mare, chestnut, I think; I couldn't quite tell under the caked mud and filth, and God knows what breed she was. As thin as Cooper had been, this mare was worse, almost skeletal. She was shaky on her feet and I was surprised she had made the trailer ride upright. Jesus, it just made me sick to see an animal in that condition.

Max had just spent the past two days taking care of the pampered aristocrats of the horse world, so even he could tell how bad off this one was. His face tightened up as his eyes traveled over her thin neck, boney back and prominent hip bones, and I thought he was going to burst into tears. Sky handed him the lead while he and I walked on either side of her, our hands steadying each swaying step. Gabriel had just put Cooper away, so I had him fix up the stall next door real quick and we led her in.

She stood there with her head hanging while Max held a bucket in front of her nose. She finally took a drink and I looked at Sky with a 'well?' expression on my face. He looked back at me a little defiantly, and then glanced at Gabriel who was still standing nearby. Their eyes met for a moment, then Sky looked back at me.

"She was in a filthy pen at Thompson's place, that little shithole out east by the water tower. They signed her over to me; I’ve got the papers in the truck."

"Papers, huh? You wander around the county with all the right forms now, do you, just looking for down-on-their-luck horses?"

He had the grace to look embarrassed, but stuck up for himself. "Faith set me up with whatever I might need. Look, Dean, I'll pay her board.”

“You can’t afford her board, not at this stable.”

"I'll help." Sky and I both turned to look at Gabriel. "I'll take care of her before I clock in and after work."

"Thanks." Sky turned back to me. "Dean, I couldn't leave her there."

I stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "I know. I wouldn't expect you to. She's probably navicular or colicky or something." I blew out a breath. "Go holler at Faith to come have a look at her."

Max had been talking to the mare the whole time, patting her scrawny neck and waving wisps of hay in front of her face. He was gentle with her and the expression on his face was tender and sad. She wouldn't eat, though, and I was afraid that this one was too far gone. Faith came in, her face freezing into a professional mask as she looked at the wreck of a horse in front of her.

"Jesus H. Christ." She turned to Sky. "Are you a magnet for these creatures?" He just shrugged and she began to examine the mare, shaking her head as she did a visual first.

I left Max with the mare and took Sky to my office. On the way, he glanced at me.

"Who's the kid?"

"Long story. We'll tell everyone at Chris's tomorrow."

When we got into the office, I closed the door and turned to him. "Are you going to make a career of this? Cause if you are, I'll need to build another barn."

"Uh, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I’m thinking about going to work for the state as an inspector, but I need to go to vet school." He turned away and walked restlessly around the office, coming back to stand in front of me. "Would you help me? I'll pay you back every nickel. I could work it off during school and after I graduate.” I looked at him closely. His handsome face was flushed, his blue eyes alive, and I could see this was important to him.

"Yeah, I'll help you. On one condition." He raised his eyebrows at me. "Start looking for abuse cases. Ask around, sniff them out. I'll take them all, even if we just have to put them down. At least they won't starve to death." His eyes were wide open in surprise.

"I've been thinking about it for a while. We have lots of open pasture. I'm going to start a rescue, rehabilitation, and retirement foundation. Chloe already put up $500,000 to get things going, and Bella is processing all the paperwork. The JD Morgan Rescue and Rehabilitation Foundation. Want a job?"

We talked about it a bit more and Sky decided working for the foundation sounded great, especially when I offered to put him through vet school, and give him the position of head inspector at more than the state paid. He was going to keep working for Tay until they could find a replacement, looking for abuse cases as he made his rounds, and then start vet school in April. Once he was in school full time, he would spend his spare time with Faith to start getting some practical experience. I agreed to pick up all his expenses, plus room and board, figuring I could put him in JD’s empty house for practically nothing and he’d be close enough to help Faith at a moment’s notice.

After we had settled the details, Sky came to me, hugging me close, and the feel of him brought back pleasant memories of his lean body, his appealing innocence when we'd first been together. He hadn't been over in a while and I wondered if he had found someone we didn't know about yet.

When we went to check on Max and the mare, he was sitting in the shavings by her head, feeding her handfuls of grain, still talking away to her. She didn't look quite so hopeless now, but I’d still be amazed if she turned out to be useable for anything but hay recycling. What was money for, if not to help those less fortunate than ourselves?

"I want to call her Ginger," Max said shyly, meeting my eyes as I came into the stall. "After Black Beauty's girlfriend. Remember?" Of course I remembered. At one point in my young life, I'd had that book practically memorized. I was worried about this mare, but more so about Max’s emotions.

I walked behind him and squatted down so that my knees were on either side of him, his back against my chest as I hugged him. “Max, you’re a good man, but don't get too attached. We can’t save them all. We’ll do all we can, but sometimes it just isn’t enough.”

He turned to look at me, his brow furrowed in concern as he kept rubbing the mare’s lower jaw. “Do you think we can save this one?”

“Too soon to tell. Let’s take it day by day.” I kissed his cheek and left him there, figuring both he and the mare could use the company.

Sky headed for his truck and I saw Gabriel angling from the big barn to intercept him, so I stopped to watch. They met up and walked along together, heads bent, talking. I had given zero thought as to whether Gabriel was gay or not when I hired him, being more concerned with his ex-convict status and his employee potential. Straight or gay, he was working out well and I was glad I'd hired him. But something about watching him with Sky made me wonder.

When I went for Max at five, he was grooming Ginger. All the crud was gone from her coat, and although she was in dreadful shape, she looked a hell of a lot better. She had four white stockings and a star on her forehead, lots of 'chrome,' and would be a flashy horse when she fattened up. I had looked at her papers; she was a Quarter horse, ten years old; and surprise, surprise her registered name was Cal's Ginger Girl. Sky had himself a quality horse.

We dashed home and got cleaned up, arriving at Stiva's about 6:30. I could tell Max was excited as we pulled into the lot. Sam had changed into his tux, which got a long up and down look from Max and me, and seated us himself in one of the private alcoves. The table was laid for three, and after Sam consulted with the kitchen, he joined us, putting a long thin package on Max's plate. Max looked down at it, then up at us, and the expression on his face tugged at my heart. God knows how long it had been since anyone had made a fuss of any kind over him. Nine years, at least; almost half his life.

"Go ahead. Open it."

He tore the paper off and flipped the lid on a watch, a Tag Heuer alarm model, stainless with a black face. Sam had told me that Max had sold his watch last year for food and missed it terribly. Max's mouth dropped open and he lifted the watch out of the box, holding it across his palm as he examined it. After a moment, I reached out and turned it over. 'And many more . . . Dean & Sam' was engraved on the back. Max's head dropped lower and I figured he was battling tears, but he was saved by the waiter arriving with our salads and a big basket of warm bread. He put the watch on, running his fingers over the back of it before he did, then dug into dinner.

After we’d gone through salads, two baskets of bread, a big appetizer platter, and a few family bowls of different pastas, even Max was slowing down. We sat chatting for a bit, Max entertaining Sam with stories of his first three days on the job, when we heard a procession headed our way. Max got a wary look on his face, and by the time every waiter and busboy in the place had converged on our table, he was red as a beet but grinning from ear to ear.

Vincent set a huge piece of chocolate cake down in front of him, topped with 18 flaming candles, and all twenty-something of us sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. He ducked his head at first, but by the time we were finished, he was looking around the circle of smiling faces as if he was trying to memorize them. Maybe he was. We ate cake, drank coffees and milk, and went home, fatter and happier than when we'd arrived.

At home we changed, Sam and I doing our usual boxers, something we hadn't done since Max's arrival. When he came down in jeans and saw us, he trotted back upstairs, appearing a few minutes later in similar attire. It was the first good look I'd gotten at his body. His chest was thin, his hips narrow, with long slender muscles along his back and down his legs. The overall impression was one of delicacy, without being feminine, perhaps because he was so thin. He moved that way also, graceful with his hands and his walk. He put me in mind of a well-trained dancer, his movements light and fluid.

His chest was naturally smooth, and his arms and legs were very lightly haired. Although his shorts sat low on his hips, his belly was as smooth as his chest. His skin was pale, and the deep pink nipples I'd seen the other night were small hard nubs that I had to force myself to look away from. I’m generally attracted to more masculine men like Sam and Chris, but Max definitely appealed to me sexually, something I wasn't particularly comfortable with, at least yet.

We were all stuffed and tired, and it wasn't long before we gave up trying to stay awake and went off to bed. Outside his room, Max turned to us. "Thank you. I love the watch, and dinner was great." He paused for a moment. "No one's ever done anything that nice for me."

He gave Sam a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then turned to me, smiling.

“Dean, today at the barn, you said I was a good man that felt great. They always called me a boy, and I hated that.”

It was another quiet night for Max. I checked on him a couple times but he was curled up peacefully, one hand tucked beneath his cheek, as I smoothed his hair back off his face. I began to hope that the bad dreams were behind him and that Sam was right exposure to our solid, loving relationship was a settling influence on him.

The next day was Thanksgiving, but people and horses still need to eat so we all went off to work as usual, planning on going to Zane and Chris's for dinner later in the afternoon. Max wore his watch, looking at it way more often than necessary to keep track of the time, and I was pleased to see that he was really happy with it.

All the employees had the day off so Max got to help James, Ernesto, Bella and Faith do the feeding, and he got a real kick out of all those eager faces peering out of their stalls, nickering for breakfast. We did a quick cleaning, then spent some time with Ginger. She looked a lot happier today, munching on the orchard grass that Faith had prescribed for her. When Max went into her stall, she swung her big head around to nuzzle him, wiping green hay slobber across the front of his shirt. His face was glowing when he turned to me.

"Do you think she knows me?" The hope in his voice made me glad that I could answer him truthfully with what he needed to hear.

"Horses are good at that and you have a knack with her. I noticed it yesterday." I left him there whispering sweet nothings into her ear while she ate, and had to practically drag him out when it was time to go. The kid was going to be horse crazy after all.

We got cleaned up for dinner and made it to Zane and Chris's a few minutes after three. Max was nervous, sticking close to Sam as we walked up the front steps. Chris flung the door open just as we stepped onto the porch, stopping when he saw Sam's stitches and black eye, which was actually sort of greenish now.

"Christ, what happened to you?" Chris asked as he hugged Sam hard, then held him at arm's length to look him over.

"A lot. We'll tell everybody later." Sam moved into the house and I was engulfed in Chris's big arms, smiling like I always did whenever he got hold of me.

Max hung back, keeping me between himself and Chris, as we went in. Zane came out from the kitchen and was less restrained in his greeting, as usual. He grabbed Sam first, after staring at him for a moment, and then me, into big hugs and planted wet smacks our mouths before letting us go.

Before I could stop him, he did the same thing to Max, who stiffened and jerked back slightly, but by then Zane was done with him. I smiled as astonishment, then pleasure, passed across Max's face, leaving him with a goofy smile. When Zane turned away, Max ran his tongue over his lower lip, and he kept his eyes on Zane as he walked back into the kitchen.

Sky, Cas, and Adam arrived a few minutes later and we went through the whole process again, Max getting hugs from everyone. He returned them a little more each time, and by the time Cas got a hold of him, he hugged him back enthusiastically. Cas held onto him for just another moment, looking him over closely, and I saw Max return the gaze. Didn't get him to the clinic a minute too soon, I thought to myself.

Dinner was excellent and we all ate too much, ending up lying around the great room lethargically, letting it all settle before we tackled dessert. Cas and Max sat on a small sofa near the fireplace, turned toward each other, talking and smiling the whole time, although I noticed that Max checked for Sam and me now and then, making sure we were still nearby. Watching him with Cas made me wonder if Max ever had the opportunity to be with someone just because he wanted to, because he liked the person, not because it was a business transaction. Max had been hustling since he was 15, so maybe not. He seemed comfortable with all of us, and I was glad to see that he was able to relax with so many unfamiliar men around.

We had discussed our close circle of friends with Max, and the fact that we needed to tell them at least the bare minimum of what was going on. Max was hesitant at first, fearing they'd judge him, and I could tell he was ashamed of the life he'd been living. I had tipped his chin up so that he met my eyes, and smiled at him gently.

"Max, what Rand did to you was wrong; that’s why he’s in jail. It wasn't your fault and no one blames you."

He had swallowed hard. "I should have . . . "

"Should have what? You were just a kid, honey. You stayed alive, and now you're here with us and all that other stuff is history. It's all over."

He was silent for a long minute, then fell into me and cried a little. I held him close and rubbed his back while Sam watched us sadly. I wanted so badly to roll back Max's life to the day before his parents were killed, or at least erase his memory of the past several years, but I settled for vowing to myself that he would never go another day without knowing that someone loved him and cared about what happened to him.

Anyway, after that discussion, Max was okay with us telling our friends about him, trusting Sam and me to do the right thing by him. Today was a good day since we were all together, so I cleared my throat as we finished our pie. Max looked at Cas one last time, then came over to sit by me on the floor. I put my arm around him as Sam gave a brief version of his three weeks in Houston, ending with the fact that Max was living with us for the foreseeable future.

There was silence as everyone absorbed what Sam had said. Then Cas got up and came over to Max, dropping to a knee in front of him. He reached out a hand to Max's cheek, then kissed him on the other. "I'm glad you're here, Max. Dean and Sam will take good care of you."

Max hadn't drawn away from Cas's kiss and now he nodded at Adam, too worked up to speak, I think. As we took our plates into the kitchen and got more coffee, I saw Sky go over to Max and talk to him softly for a minute. I couldn't hear what he said but Max smiled up at him, then chuckled a little, and I blessed Sky for being the nice guy that he was. Zane spoke to him also, and Max shook his head, laying his hand on Zane's arm and smiling at whatever he said.

Everyone wanted to know what was going to happen to Rand, and the general consensus was that hanging was too good. Since we knew it wouldn't come to that, we figured we'd have to settle for life in prison, which at least got him off the streets.

Chris’s firm sponsored a variety of local non-profits, one of which was a network of retired teachers who did tutoring in one of Chris’s spare offices, so we arranged for Max to go with Chris two days a week to work on his GED. When we left, I noticed that Cas hugged Max a little more thoroughly than he did the rest of us. I wondered a bit about that, if Cas and Adam were on the outs at the moment, but I didn't have the chance to ask Adam about it.

No one noticed my ring and I didn’t bring it up, preferring to wait until we had some details of the event before making an announcement. It would require a party and I had enough to do right now.

The following Monday the clinic called with the good news that although Max was 25 pounds under average weight, he was otherwise as healthy as could be. They recommended vitamins, which we were already doing, and they wanted to see him in three months. He was becoming very comfortable with us, recovering quickly from his life on the street with the incredible resiliency of the young. He climbed in between Sam and me on the couch, no longer caring which of us he snuggled up to, and always wanted a goodnight hug. He wore nothing but boxers around the house, and the constant sight of his smooth, pale body had me perpetually wound up.

Sam had a dinner to cater that Wednesday night, so it was just Max and me. When we went to the den after dinner, I lay back against one arm of the couch, a la Sam, and Max, to my surprise, crawled up between my legs and flopped down, squashing my nuts with his boney ribs.

I had to shove my hand under him to adjust myself and he gave me a quick smile. "Sorry."

I pulled him back against me and we lay there until bedtime, watching 'Camelot' on cable. I absent mindedly rubbed Max's chest, not realizing until too late that the feel of his smooth, warm skin had given me a major hard-on. Then it was my turn to say 'sorry' as I tugged my stiff dick out from under him and tried to find some place for it that wasn't so obvious. After a moment, he sat up and looked at me.

"Would you kiss me?” he asked softly. “Really kiss me, like you kiss Sam? I've hardly ever been kissed. Mostly they just wanted me to suck them off."

I looked at his boyishly appealing face, so young but with those old eyes which reminded me that he was hardly innocent. Then I remembered that he was barely 18. As I leaned forward to press my mouth to his, he watched me coming, slowly dropping his eyes shut just before our lips met. He opened his mouth slightly and caught his breath when I slid my tongue slowly across his lower lip.

After a moment I pulled back to look at him, and what I saw was raw hunger; he was breathing heavily and his eyes had gone dark. He braced his hands high on my thighs and leaned into me open-mouthed in a kiss that was hot enough to make me moan, and my cock lurched, thumping up against his belly. He broke the kiss and we stared at each other for a long moment, and then, thank God, he got up and left the room. I fell back onto the sofa squeezing my cock hard in frustration.

I was still there when Sam got home and he knew from the look on my face that something had happened. I told him, leaving nothing out, including the fact that I was attracted to Max. He watched me carefully as I spoke, then he sighed.

"Me, too. At first, I felt kinda weird about it, but then remembered what I was up to at that age. I’d fuck anything that walked upright and stood still long enough. I wasn't screwing guys our age yet, but only because they hadn't ask me." He paused and looked at me hard. "If he comes to us, all on his own, I'm not gonna turn him away."

I stared back at him, then nodded, wondering when, or if, that day would come. Then I felt the weight of something else I needed to talk to him about.

"While you were gone, Cas and I…" I couldn't finish it, but I didn't have to.

"I figured. Jesse and I did too." When my shocked eyes met his, he stared me down. "It was the night before I was going into Rand's place. I was scared and missing you terribly. Jesse had never been away from Ben that long. It was just our hands and it took about 90 seconds. I didn't kiss him."

I wasn't sure what to think. I had kissed the hell out of Cas, that's what got me into trouble in the first place but we knew Cas well, had slept with him countless times over the years. Jesse was an unknown, and thus a potential threat to our relationship, but the fact that Sam hadn't kissed him somehow made the difference for me, especially when I remembered how desperate I had been for comfort that night with Cas. Sam had to have been ten times more miserable. I searched his face, seeing regret in his eyes, but no apology.

"It's okay," I told him. "I love you and it's okay." He leaned toward me, dropping his forehead onto my shoulder, and we sat like that for a while, just holding each other; then he tugged my shorts to my knees, yanked his own pants down, and dropped onto me. After a sweaty five minutes we wiped up and went to bed.

We left the next morning for the final GP, the grand finale of the year. It was in Florida, which made a pleasant change from the December chill of East Texas. I brought James along, figuring that he had been with me at the beginning so he might as well get to see the end, however it turned out. Max had never been out of Houston till he came home with Sam and Jesse, so he was thrilled with the circus atmosphere of the show grounds. He and Sam went off to explore as I checked my gear, studied the course layout, and bit my nails, nervous as a whore in church now that I was actually here.

I was too tightly wound to sit still, so I hopped on Kahn and worked him for a couple hours on the flat, practicing quick turns and lead swaps. He was really getting the hang of it, yielding to just the slightest pressure of my legs and hands, and I knew we had a chance on Sunday.

We ate in the hotel that night with Chloe. Max was entranced by her, especially when she called the waiter a 'puddin head peckerwood' under her breath cause he was slow with her drink. She thought Max was adorable and spent the evening entertaining him with stories of her sharecropper childhood, advantageous marriage, and eventual metamorphosis into wealthy social butterfly and horse aficionado. She invited him to sit in her owner's box for the Gran Prix but Max politely declined, wanting to be in the stables where the action was.

Chloe had gotten us a suite, two bedrooms on either side of a living area. We claimed one bedroom, Max settled into the other, and it was lights out since we were all tired from the travel and time change. Friday I rode both horses for a couple hours each, while Sam and Max went to the beach. It was too cold to swim but Max had a ball gathering shells, feeding the noisy gulls, and eating at every food vendor on the pier. That night we did the cocktail party thing. Max got hit on by every woman under forty and most of the waiters, and I saw him return a few smiles. Cas did a double take when he saw Max in a suit, raising his eyebrows at me and smiling. I nodded in bemused acknowledgement, fighting back a weird urge to lock Max in his room until he turned 30.

Saturday night we stayed in. I wanted to get a decent night's sleep, and I was tired of smiling my way through hours of boozy parties, and getting pinched on the ass by lonely, drunken women. Sam stretched me out on the bed and gave me a wonderful massage, starting at my feet and working his way up my body, his hands warm and strong. He was just leaving my ass for my back when our door pushed open a little and Max poked his head in. We were naked and Max looked at us for a minute before coming in to stand by the bed. He was wearing boxers, tented out in front from his erection.

Sam and I both just looked up at him and finally he blurted out, "Can I sleep in here tonight? I'm really tired of jerkin' off by myself."

I stared at him for another few seconds, but I couldn't stand it and burst into laughter. I grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed, rolling half onto him, his hard penis pressing into my hip. I tried to be serious, but his frustrated expression was too funny. I finally got myself under control and looked down at him. "Are you sure that's what you want, Max?"

He didn't reply, just lifted his head and kissed me. It was a wonderful kiss a little hesitant but full of heat and it went straight to my dick, stiffening it quickly. Sam had been watching, and when my cock got hard he joined us, nuzzling into the kiss and stealing Max's mouth from me. I finally gave in to something I’d wanted to do since I'd first seen his body; I moved slowly down Max's smooth chest, tickling those hard pink nipples with my tongue, and then sliding his shorts slowly down his flat belly, following the waistband with my mouth. He was baby smooth clear down to his groin. There a wispy patch of curls surrounded his cock, which was hard and twitching with arousal.

His penis was an even darker pink than his nipples, with a fat head and a shaft that thickened slightly toward the base. I ran a finger down the underside, smiling as his cock leaped up from his belly again and again. When I reached his smooth balls, I cupped them in one palm, feeling their weight, then pushed them snugly against his body as he spread his legs and arched his hips up into my hand. I lowered my face to him, my lips tugging gently at those curls, still damp from his shower; then nuzzled into his belly. I lapped up the drop of precum that was sliding down the head of his cock, tasting him for the first time. After probing his slit gently, I began to suck him.

The next hour was wonderful. Max was a little reserved at first, but relaxed quickly as we kissed and rubbed and licked him to what was maybe the first orgasm he'd ever had where it was all about him. Maybe it was the combined efforts of our two mouths and four hands; maybe it was because he was young, but he just kept shooting and shooting, plastering his chest with shotgun spatters of thin, milky ejaculate that ran down his ribs in little rivulets. He lay there breathing hard for a few moments, eyes closed; then he began to smile, started to chuckle, and finally laughed aloud.

"God, that was awesome!" he practically shouted, sitting up to hug and kiss us both at once. That broke the ice, and after that he was playful and incredibly sexy, sucking Sam to an eye-crossing orgasm, one finger doing magic things in his ass. When Max had first slid his hand down below Sam's balls, I'd felt Sam tense up for a moment, then relax to let him in. I knelt over Sam's face, getting a tongue bath until he had to quit to climax; then, after Sam caught his breath, it was my turn.

Sam put me on my back and slid into me easily while pressing my legs back to lean down and kiss me. Max backed off a little, watching us soberly. We made no effort to include him but it wasn't long before he crawled to me, playing with my nipples and kissing me while Sam fucked me slowly. I knew Sam was good for another orgasm and sure enough, when I got close he pulled out and joined me as we came on my belly, smiling at each other as we groaned through it.

Afterward, Max touched first Sam's cock, then mine, licking the cum from his fingers each time. I watched him, wondering what this meant to him, to be with men who cared for him and to fuck for fun and cause it felt good, not because you needed to make rent. When he lifted his eyes to mine, they were clear and untroubled, and I pulled him down to me, hugging him close. "Love you, Max."

Fields of Gold Part 6 Continued