Five O'Clock
Title: Five O'Clock
Series: The Clock 'Verse
Author:
hunters_retreat
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam tells his father he's going to Stanford, but something unexpected happens. AU
Five O'Clock
Dean was true to his word. After grabbing a bag and heading out of the apartment, he’d disappeared until five o’clock. He sat on the landing in front of their apartment and debated opening the door with his key or knocking. He thought about all the preparations he’d made for their date and about what he’d do if it were someone beside his brother. He thought about the impression he wanted to give Sam then and decided that Sam deserved the whole experience.
He ran a hand over his jacket, not used to wearing a suit jacket outside of a hunt. He had his suit on with the green tie that Sam had insisted he had to have. He thanked Jessica in his head for the millionth time for being willing to help him out on his spur of the moment idea and for loaning him her shower to get cleaned up from the work he’d done for the night. She’d been more than happy to help. In fact, she’d been ecstatic to know that he and Sam were taking things further in that direction after their talk the night before.
He put the keys back in his pocket and knocked on the door. He heard a bang behind the door and Sam’s cursing and reeled in the desire to unlock the door and make sure Sam was alright. A second later Sam opened the door and Dean’s mouth fell open slightly before instinct snapped it shut.
Sam’s face was slightly flushed and his eyes were wide as he looked Dean over. Dean took a moment to do the same, taking in Sam’s long frame in the black suit that he’d gotten for that time he’d managed to sneak off to visit Stanford. The white shirt he wore beneath the jacket was well fitted, showing off the strong muscles Dean knew so well. The top button was open and Dean was glad he hadn’t worn a tie. He reigned in the desire to step closer and lick a path across the stretch of skin that was showing. Instead he smiled as he looked up into Sam’s eyes. “Hey. You ready to go?”
Sam nodded. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?”
Dean just shook his head as he gestured for Sam to lead the way. Sam’s gave a slightly surprised laugh before heading down the stairs first. Dean didn’t try to get to the Impala first, or to open the door for his brother. It might be a date, but Sam wasn’t some girl who wanted to be coddled. He knew his brother better than that. He grinned at Dean when he turned the keys in the car, but neither said anything.
It was a comfortable silence as Dean drove them through the campus area they lived and out of their normal sections of the city. It wasn’t until they were out in the uninhabited areas that Sam started looking at him with questioning glances.
“You’re really not going to tell me are you?”
“Nope.”
It was a forty five minute drive and he could feel the questions that kept forming and dying on Sam’s lips. He knew their destination was way out, but he’d wanted to do something special for Sam. If Jess hadn’t agreed, he’d never have been able to get this all together. He owed her for this. Maybe chocolate. Or a nice book. Or a quarter’s worth of college tuition if it all went well.
He pulled the Impala off on a deserted stretch of road and he didn’t wait for Sam’s question before he got out of the car and walked around, waiting for his brother. The path beside him was barely visible, but he was able to see the fresh tire tracks that meant his friend had been and gone. He smiled as he looked back at Sam and saw the confused look on his face.
“Trust me?” He asked.
Sam’s smile widened as if it was a challenge. He didn’t answer but when Dean held out his hand Sam took it. It felt odd, having Sam’s hand in his own, but in a good way. When they were little he’d walk with Sam through the woods, holding onto his brother to make sure he didn’t trip or fall, but this was different. The fact that Sam’s fingers were wound through his made it different.
They hadn’t gone far into the woods when they arrived at their destination but it was well hidden in the trees. He felt Sam stop at his side, but he didn’t dare glance at his brother as he pulled his hand away and moved forward, pulling open the door to the abandoned boxcar.
He’d found it during a hunt, people talking about a haunted boxcar. He’d followed it back to this, but in the end it had been the dead conductor that was haunting what had been buried of the line. In the main sections of town, it had been pulled up but in the outer areas the track had been left behind for nature to bury. After a few deaths people stopped coming to the boxcar and now it had been forgotten, only the legend remaining. When a group of high schoolers started sneaking out the ghost had turned violent and the deaths started. He and Sam worked the salt and burn together, but Sam had been doing the research when Dean found the boxcar itself.
When he’d left Sam that morning, he’d gone straight to Jess and asked for her help. As amazing as she was, she’d just agreed without hesitation. They’d piled in the Impala, hit the stores for what he needed, and traveled to their current destination. They’d cleaned and set things up and when Dean was satisfied with it, they’d closed it up and gone back to Jess’s where he’d showered and fixed dinner.
The dinner that was now sitting in a heated bag for him to set out at the table they’d brought in. He moved to that and pulled the first platter out, setting it down.
“Dean?” He looked back to see Sam standing at the door, eyes glistening in the dying light.
“No electricity, so you can light those candles if you want to see better.” He turned away then, unable to think of anything else to say. After going through all the effort to set this up, he was suddenly unsure of how to act. He didn’t know what to expect from Sam and he wasn’t sure he could handle the emotions he felt inside himself. He wasn’t sure what would happen if Sam got all emo on him at that moment either.
He felt Sam beside him and turned to see his brother’s smile. “Got a lighter?”
Dean smirked as he handed it to his brother. “You ever known me to leave home without one?”
“Never. You always were a boy scout.”
“Minus the morals.”
“And merit badges.” Sam said with a laugh but he was moving away then and light began to spread in the boxcar as Sam lit the candles. Dean continued to pull out the food and he fixed the plates the way he wanted them before setting them on the table which had been laid with fresh plates when Jess had dropped off the dinner he’d made.
“You ready to eat Sam?” He asked as he found Sam lighting the last candle.
“Yeah, it smells great Dean.” He said as he sat at the table across from Dean.
He took a moment to just watch Sam, to see the way he reacted to what Dean had set up for him. He still hadn’t seen all of it, hadn’t realized that there was more there that he just hadn’t looked at, but Dean was content with the knowledge that he’d get to show the rest to Sam after they ate.
He reached around the back of the table and found the wine chiller Jess had hidden there. He wasn’t a huge wine drinker, but he’d learned a small appreciation for it because of his classes, especially where cabernet and steak were concerned. He noted that Jess had remembered to set the chiller’s temperature at 63 degrees and had popped the cork before leaving so it could breathe.
He poured Sam a glass and filled his own before he managed to get some words out. He held up his glass for a toast and watched as Sam raised his glass. They clicked and Dean still couldn’t think of anything to say, anything to toast that wouldn’t leave him more vulnerable than he already felt. Instead he smiled. “Thanks Sammy, for coming with me tonight.”
Sam’s smile was almost sad, but then he reached out his hand and took hold of Dean’s, like he had so long ago when Dean had cooked his first real dinner for Sam at the apartment. “I thought you’d figure it out by now.” He said with a shake of his head. “There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with.”
“Me too.”
The air felt charged with something familiar and yet exotic. This had been with them for so long, a part of them, between them, but the acknowledgement of it, the knowing made it a whole new beast. He didn’t know how to break the tension but then Sam let go of his hand and looked away. “This looks great.”
Dean took the reprieve with all the thanks he could, knowing that Sam needed to break away from that as much as he did. They began to eat then and Dean felt he could breathe again. The steak was good and hadn’t suffered too much from the heating bag. He’d fixed creamed spinach and sautéed mushrooms to go with the double cut filet mignon. He’d thought about trying to bring appetizers as well, but with the short notice and the time he’d needed to get the boxcar presentable it just hadn’t been possible. It was enough though and they bantered back and forth over the table as always, though the barbs tended to feel more like flirting than anything else this time.
He felt the wine going to his head a little, but he thought it probably had to do with the company more than the wine. This thing between he and Sam was almost too much, intoxicating at the hope of what they might become. As much as he’d fought against this for the past four years, he couldn’t help but be a little fearful as well. His world was wrapped up in his little brother and if there was anything that could destroy him, he knew it was his brother’s rejection.
“I don’t think I could eat another bite.” Sam said, placing his napkin on the table next to what little was left of his upside-down apple pie, sipping the rest of his wine. “Thank you Dean. This is…” he seemed to be searching for the right words and that amused Dean to no end, seeing the always eloquent Sam looking for something to say. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe you did this.”
Dean stood up and offered Sam his hand without saying a word. Sam took it and Dean pulled him over towards the curtain that hung towards one end. He pulled it aside to let the candle light filter in and walked Sam into the smaller section. They’d thrown pillows all over the floor and candles rested on the shelves that ran along the walls, rising to meet with the windows half way up.
Dean had found the books there, still untouched and mostly damaged, but he knew Sam would love them just the way they were. Among them were some books that Dean had brought, things he’d been collecting over the years, some since they’d gone to Stanford and some longer. He just hadn’t found a reason to give them to Sam yet. A copy of Treasure Island to replace the one that had been taken from him in second grade. The Hobbit that his father had made him leave behind in fourth. A dozen other books that Sam had been forced to leave behind because John didn’t like the message they might give Sam, or he felt they were a waste of space in their already crammed duffels.
“Dean?”
“Get comfortable Sammy, we’ve got all night.” He said, sitting himself among the piles of pillows.
Sam settled down next to him, his fingers brushing over the various books that were stacked around them. Dean pulled out the Bourne Identity, a book he’d read a million times over the years and had stashed for himself. He watched Sam before he started reading though, watching to see what his brother would settle on. He wasn’t really surprised when Sam’s hand stopped where it did. He opened the cover and ran reverent hands over the inside inscription.
Dean had never know who gave the book to Sam, had never known what to think about the obvious offer of understand, however misplaced. Sam had been devastated to leave it behind, but John had been adamant. Dean understood why but Sam never had. Dean had gone back for the book though, when John had been looking away, gone back and snuck it into his own bags and managed to keep it hidden in there until he’d been able to carve out his own hiding place in the Impala that neither John nor Sam knew about.
Sleeping Dogs wasn’t something Dean would have ever seen himself reading, but he had, just to understand the inscription and John’s need to keep Sam from reading it. He still didn’t understand his father’s reasoning, but he did know his father’s fear. John must have read enough of the book himself to see the incestuous relationships in the book and the abusive father figure that kept his five children isolated from society. Dean had read it more than once, when his hands felt too itchy and the need to bury himself in his brother became too much.
Sam looked over at him with more emotion than Dean knew how to read. Before he could say anything though, Sam was pressed up against his side, his fingers danced over Dean’s face as carefully as they had the run over the books around them. He brought their lips together and Dean didn’t bother keeping it light this time. When Sam’s tongue tentatively brushed Dean’s bottom lip, he opened to his brother, hand coming up into his hair and deepening the kiss.
Sam’s hand fell from Dean’s face but worked down his arm and to his waist, pulling them both as close as they could get. Dean let Sam push him back into the pillows, his hands pulling Sam on top of him as he took pleasure in the feel of Sam’s weight over him. He let his free hand roam over Sam’s back, thankful that over the course of dinner their jackets had been left behind. When he reached Sam’s waist he couldn’t help himself. He pulled at his shirt until it was free of his pants and then he let his fingers play over the soft skin over the small of Sam’s back.
Sam moaned into his mouth as soon as his fingers hit flesh. Hips ground into his and it took everything in him not to begin pulling Sam’s clothes off him. Instead he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “Jesus Sammy.” He tried not to notice how breathless he sounded.
“You’ve been carrying that around for three years?” Sam asked.
“Not as long as some.”
Sam sat up, his thighs straddling Dean as he did, his eyes taking in the piles of books. Dean could feel it when he came across the oldest of the books, an old travel-battered Dr. Seuss.
“How did you hide them?”
“False covers on some. Luck when I was younger. Found a girl who could sew and put a hidden pocket in my bag when I got a little older. He found some over the years, but never all of them.”
Sam leaned back over him then, lips brushing over Dean’s cheeks before whispering in his ear. “Jesus Dean I was only 6 when… you’ve been hiding these since you were 10? God I love you, I can’t believe.... Can’t believe you did all this for me.”
He knew there was more to it than books. It was about Dean noticing how upset Sam had been at the loss, about Dean still calling him Sam-I-Am after John made him give the book away, about Dean learning to hide things from John when he was only 10 years old because he wanted to give it back to Sam some day. It was about years of paying attention and taking care of him and loving him more than any one else.
He brought their lips together and it was hard and demanding, needy because Dean couldn’t say the words, couldn’t say them in this context yet as much as he felt it. Sam’s lips softened the kiss as he pulled back every so slightly, whispering “I know” as he trailed kisses across Dean’s lips and cheek, over his eyes and forehead until Dean felt as safe and loved as he’d always hoped he made Sam feel.
When Sam pulled back enough to look him in the eye, Dean was able to smile again and he kissed Sam lightly one more time before handing Sam his book. Sam laughed as he took it, but instead of moving away from Dean, he repositioned him until he was lying with his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh as he read.
Dean gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to get in a comfortable position to read his own book, but in the end he gave up. He wasn’t going to be able to concentrate anyway, not with Sam in his lap like that. Instead, he just leaned back, closing his eyes and letting his fingers twine through Sam’s hair.
It was completely dark when he woke again, the feel of Sam’s lips pressed to his. He wrapped his hands around Sam’s neck, pulling him closer. Sam laughed against his mouth and Dean let him go.
“That works even better than coffee.” Sam teased. “Think I’ll wake you like that from now on.”
Dean smiled, the sleepy haze gone from his brain as he realized where they were. “I wouldn’t complain.” He said softly as he sat up. He looked out the windows of the boxcar and had no idea how long he’d been out. “We should probably get back to civilization.”
Sam sighed but nodded. “Yeah, we should.”
It only took Dean a couple minutes to clean up the food they’d brought while Sam packed up the books he wanted to take with him. They closed it up and Dean confessed how much help Jessica had been with the whole thing. It didn’t diminish the experience for Sam and Dean could see it in his eyes, the way Sam understood how hard it was for Dean to ask someone to help him with this. It was hard for him to ask for help in anything, but to plan the seduction of the little brother? He didn’t tell Sam how long he’d sat in front of Jessica’s apartment, afraid to ask but determined to anyway.
The car ride how was pleasantly quiet, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts, but Sam’s hand shifted from Dean’s knee to thigh and back again over the course of the drive. Dean didn’t think he realized he was doing it, but it was comforting, the way Sam unconsciously kept the contact between them.
When they got home, Dean stopped at the top of the stairs, his keys in hand. After a second, he let them in and walked with Sam towards their rooms. He stopped Sam, leaning in to kiss him lightly. Sam tried to deepen the kiss but Dean pulled away first. “Good night Sammy.”
Sam seemed surprised by Dean’s words, but his eyes softened a second later. “Good night Dean.”
Sam stepped back into his room and Dean stood there for a second before deciding he really needed a cold shower.
He didn’t linger in the shower. The cold water took the bite out of his desires but knowing that Sam was just down the hall, that his brother wanted this as much as he did, made it hard to keep the interest down.
He dressed for bed, then remembered his promise to call Jess when he got home. He walked out to the living room to grab his cell and heard the shower start. He groaned at the image of Sam under the water and dialed the number.
“I can’t believe you forgot to call me!” Jessica answered the phone without a hello and Dean had to smile.
“I just got home and out of the shower. Calm down wench.”
“Oh my god! You had sex in an abandoned boxcar!”
“No we didn’t Jess.” He said with a laugh. One of the things he loved about Jess was her straight forwardness. “It went really well though. Dinner was good and he loved the books.”
“Then why was there no sex?” She sounded almost as disappointed as Sam had looked at the good bye kiss.
“Because he’s not a one night stand. I can’t… I need to make sure this is okay. I need to know we both have time to back off if it’s not going to work. I can’t lose him.”
“Dean,” he could hear the sigh in her voice. “He loves you. You don’t have to worry.”
“Well I do. And if it makes you feel better, there was a lot of making out in the abandoned boxcar.”
“Alright!”
He laughed. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said it earlier but for last night and today… just …”
“I know Dean. Love you baby. Call me this week and you can give me all the juicy details. And cook me dinner.”
“You know, if Sam wasn’t here…”
“We’d have totally shacked up the first night and never talked after that?”
“Good point. Night Jess.”
“Night Dean-o.”
He hung up the phone, smiling as he made his way to his room. He was ready to just relax when he walked in his room and found Sam sitting on his bed wearing boxers and a worn tee shirt. “Sammy?”
Sam looked up and everything about him, from the set of his shoulders to the look in his eyes, said he was nervous. “Dean… I just …” Dean sat down next to him and Sam nearly plowed him over as he buried his head in Dean’s neck. “Let me stay tonight. I just want to be close to you.”
Dean took a deep breath, taking in the clean scent of Sam as his wet hair dripped water down his back and chest. “Hey… Sam… come on.”
Sam sat up, looking concerned at Dean. He wanted to send Sam away because the image of Sam, spread out across his sheets was just too much and he didn’t trust himself with that in his head. Sam needed something tonight though, needed to know Dean was still there and he understood.
“Alright… just… not here Sammy.” He said, standing up. He pulled Sam to his feet and dragged him back to his own room. Sam stood in the doorway watching but when Dean got into his bed and pulled back the blanket for Sam, he crawled in quickly. He turned onto his side and looked up at Dean before laying his head on his brother’s chest.
“Thank you Dean.”
“Don’t worry about it Sam. Your bed is just as comfortable as mine.”
“I mean for everything else.” Sam leaned up then, brushing their lips together lightly before he set his head back over Dean’s heart. Dean let his fingers curl up in Sam’s hair as the other hand ran over his back. Sam’s hand landed on Dean’s hip and he gripped it tightly for a minute before releasing it.
It didn’t take long for Sam to fall asleep and Dean let himself be lulled himself. The last thought he had was that even their bodies realized they should be together, as their breath and the beat of their hearts became synchronized and one.
On To Eight O' Clock
Series: The Clock 'Verse
Author:
hunters_retreat
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam tells his father he's going to Stanford, but something unexpected happens. AU
Five O'Clock
Dean was true to his word. After grabbing a bag and heading out of the apartment, he’d disappeared until five o’clock. He sat on the landing in front of their apartment and debated opening the door with his key or knocking. He thought about all the preparations he’d made for their date and about what he’d do if it were someone beside his brother. He thought about the impression he wanted to give Sam then and decided that Sam deserved the whole experience.
He ran a hand over his jacket, not used to wearing a suit jacket outside of a hunt. He had his suit on with the green tie that Sam had insisted he had to have. He thanked Jessica in his head for the millionth time for being willing to help him out on his spur of the moment idea and for loaning him her shower to get cleaned up from the work he’d done for the night. She’d been more than happy to help. In fact, she’d been ecstatic to know that he and Sam were taking things further in that direction after their talk the night before.
He put the keys back in his pocket and knocked on the door. He heard a bang behind the door and Sam’s cursing and reeled in the desire to unlock the door and make sure Sam was alright. A second later Sam opened the door and Dean’s mouth fell open slightly before instinct snapped it shut.
Sam’s face was slightly flushed and his eyes were wide as he looked Dean over. Dean took a moment to do the same, taking in Sam’s long frame in the black suit that he’d gotten for that time he’d managed to sneak off to visit Stanford. The white shirt he wore beneath the jacket was well fitted, showing off the strong muscles Dean knew so well. The top button was open and Dean was glad he hadn’t worn a tie. He reigned in the desire to step closer and lick a path across the stretch of skin that was showing. Instead he smiled as he looked up into Sam’s eyes. “Hey. You ready to go?”
Sam nodded. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?”
Dean just shook his head as he gestured for Sam to lead the way. Sam’s gave a slightly surprised laugh before heading down the stairs first. Dean didn’t try to get to the Impala first, or to open the door for his brother. It might be a date, but Sam wasn’t some girl who wanted to be coddled. He knew his brother better than that. He grinned at Dean when he turned the keys in the car, but neither said anything.
It was a comfortable silence as Dean drove them through the campus area they lived and out of their normal sections of the city. It wasn’t until they were out in the uninhabited areas that Sam started looking at him with questioning glances.
“You’re really not going to tell me are you?”
“Nope.”
It was a forty five minute drive and he could feel the questions that kept forming and dying on Sam’s lips. He knew their destination was way out, but he’d wanted to do something special for Sam. If Jess hadn’t agreed, he’d never have been able to get this all together. He owed her for this. Maybe chocolate. Or a nice book. Or a quarter’s worth of college tuition if it all went well.
He pulled the Impala off on a deserted stretch of road and he didn’t wait for Sam’s question before he got out of the car and walked around, waiting for his brother. The path beside him was barely visible, but he was able to see the fresh tire tracks that meant his friend had been and gone. He smiled as he looked back at Sam and saw the confused look on his face.
“Trust me?” He asked.
Sam’s smile widened as if it was a challenge. He didn’t answer but when Dean held out his hand Sam took it. It felt odd, having Sam’s hand in his own, but in a good way. When they were little he’d walk with Sam through the woods, holding onto his brother to make sure he didn’t trip or fall, but this was different. The fact that Sam’s fingers were wound through his made it different.
They hadn’t gone far into the woods when they arrived at their destination but it was well hidden in the trees. He felt Sam stop at his side, but he didn’t dare glance at his brother as he pulled his hand away and moved forward, pulling open the door to the abandoned boxcar.
He’d found it during a hunt, people talking about a haunted boxcar. He’d followed it back to this, but in the end it had been the dead conductor that was haunting what had been buried of the line. In the main sections of town, it had been pulled up but in the outer areas the track had been left behind for nature to bury. After a few deaths people stopped coming to the boxcar and now it had been forgotten, only the legend remaining. When a group of high schoolers started sneaking out the ghost had turned violent and the deaths started. He and Sam worked the salt and burn together, but Sam had been doing the research when Dean found the boxcar itself.
When he’d left Sam that morning, he’d gone straight to Jess and asked for her help. As amazing as she was, she’d just agreed without hesitation. They’d piled in the Impala, hit the stores for what he needed, and traveled to their current destination. They’d cleaned and set things up and when Dean was satisfied with it, they’d closed it up and gone back to Jess’s where he’d showered and fixed dinner.
The dinner that was now sitting in a heated bag for him to set out at the table they’d brought in. He moved to that and pulled the first platter out, setting it down.
“Dean?” He looked back to see Sam standing at the door, eyes glistening in the dying light.
“No electricity, so you can light those candles if you want to see better.” He turned away then, unable to think of anything else to say. After going through all the effort to set this up, he was suddenly unsure of how to act. He didn’t know what to expect from Sam and he wasn’t sure he could handle the emotions he felt inside himself. He wasn’t sure what would happen if Sam got all emo on him at that moment either.
He felt Sam beside him and turned to see his brother’s smile. “Got a lighter?”
Dean smirked as he handed it to his brother. “You ever known me to leave home without one?”
“Never. You always were a boy scout.”
“Minus the morals.”
“And merit badges.” Sam said with a laugh but he was moving away then and light began to spread in the boxcar as Sam lit the candles. Dean continued to pull out the food and he fixed the plates the way he wanted them before setting them on the table which had been laid with fresh plates when Jess had dropped off the dinner he’d made.
“You ready to eat Sam?” He asked as he found Sam lighting the last candle.
“Yeah, it smells great Dean.” He said as he sat at the table across from Dean.
He took a moment to just watch Sam, to see the way he reacted to what Dean had set up for him. He still hadn’t seen all of it, hadn’t realized that there was more there that he just hadn’t looked at, but Dean was content with the knowledge that he’d get to show the rest to Sam after they ate.
He reached around the back of the table and found the wine chiller Jess had hidden there. He wasn’t a huge wine drinker, but he’d learned a small appreciation for it because of his classes, especially where cabernet and steak were concerned. He noted that Jess had remembered to set the chiller’s temperature at 63 degrees and had popped the cork before leaving so it could breathe.
He poured Sam a glass and filled his own before he managed to get some words out. He held up his glass for a toast and watched as Sam raised his glass. They clicked and Dean still couldn’t think of anything to say, anything to toast that wouldn’t leave him more vulnerable than he already felt. Instead he smiled. “Thanks Sammy, for coming with me tonight.”
Sam’s smile was almost sad, but then he reached out his hand and took hold of Dean’s, like he had so long ago when Dean had cooked his first real dinner for Sam at the apartment. “I thought you’d figure it out by now.” He said with a shake of his head. “There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with.”
“Me too.”
The air felt charged with something familiar and yet exotic. This had been with them for so long, a part of them, between them, but the acknowledgement of it, the knowing made it a whole new beast. He didn’t know how to break the tension but then Sam let go of his hand and looked away. “This looks great.”
Dean took the reprieve with all the thanks he could, knowing that Sam needed to break away from that as much as he did. They began to eat then and Dean felt he could breathe again. The steak was good and hadn’t suffered too much from the heating bag. He’d fixed creamed spinach and sautéed mushrooms to go with the double cut filet mignon. He’d thought about trying to bring appetizers as well, but with the short notice and the time he’d needed to get the boxcar presentable it just hadn’t been possible. It was enough though and they bantered back and forth over the table as always, though the barbs tended to feel more like flirting than anything else this time.
He felt the wine going to his head a little, but he thought it probably had to do with the company more than the wine. This thing between he and Sam was almost too much, intoxicating at the hope of what they might become. As much as he’d fought against this for the past four years, he couldn’t help but be a little fearful as well. His world was wrapped up in his little brother and if there was anything that could destroy him, he knew it was his brother’s rejection.
“I don’t think I could eat another bite.” Sam said, placing his napkin on the table next to what little was left of his upside-down apple pie, sipping the rest of his wine. “Thank you Dean. This is…” he seemed to be searching for the right words and that amused Dean to no end, seeing the always eloquent Sam looking for something to say. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe you did this.”
Dean stood up and offered Sam his hand without saying a word. Sam took it and Dean pulled him over towards the curtain that hung towards one end. He pulled it aside to let the candle light filter in and walked Sam into the smaller section. They’d thrown pillows all over the floor and candles rested on the shelves that ran along the walls, rising to meet with the windows half way up.
Dean had found the books there, still untouched and mostly damaged, but he knew Sam would love them just the way they were. Among them were some books that Dean had brought, things he’d been collecting over the years, some since they’d gone to Stanford and some longer. He just hadn’t found a reason to give them to Sam yet. A copy of Treasure Island to replace the one that had been taken from him in second grade. The Hobbit that his father had made him leave behind in fourth. A dozen other books that Sam had been forced to leave behind because John didn’t like the message they might give Sam, or he felt they were a waste of space in their already crammed duffels.
“Dean?”
“Get comfortable Sammy, we’ve got all night.” He said, sitting himself among the piles of pillows.
Sam settled down next to him, his fingers brushing over the various books that were stacked around them. Dean pulled out the Bourne Identity, a book he’d read a million times over the years and had stashed for himself. He watched Sam before he started reading though, watching to see what his brother would settle on. He wasn’t really surprised when Sam’s hand stopped where it did. He opened the cover and ran reverent hands over the inside inscription.
Dean had never know who gave the book to Sam, had never known what to think about the obvious offer of understand, however misplaced. Sam had been devastated to leave it behind, but John had been adamant. Dean understood why but Sam never had. Dean had gone back for the book though, when John had been looking away, gone back and snuck it into his own bags and managed to keep it hidden in there until he’d been able to carve out his own hiding place in the Impala that neither John nor Sam knew about.
Sleeping Dogs wasn’t something Dean would have ever seen himself reading, but he had, just to understand the inscription and John’s need to keep Sam from reading it. He still didn’t understand his father’s reasoning, but he did know his father’s fear. John must have read enough of the book himself to see the incestuous relationships in the book and the abusive father figure that kept his five children isolated from society. Dean had read it more than once, when his hands felt too itchy and the need to bury himself in his brother became too much.
Sam looked over at him with more emotion than Dean knew how to read. Before he could say anything though, Sam was pressed up against his side, his fingers danced over Dean’s face as carefully as they had the run over the books around them. He brought their lips together and Dean didn’t bother keeping it light this time. When Sam’s tongue tentatively brushed Dean’s bottom lip, he opened to his brother, hand coming up into his hair and deepening the kiss.
Sam’s hand fell from Dean’s face but worked down his arm and to his waist, pulling them both as close as they could get. Dean let Sam push him back into the pillows, his hands pulling Sam on top of him as he took pleasure in the feel of Sam’s weight over him. He let his free hand roam over Sam’s back, thankful that over the course of dinner their jackets had been left behind. When he reached Sam’s waist he couldn’t help himself. He pulled at his shirt until it was free of his pants and then he let his fingers play over the soft skin over the small of Sam’s back.
Sam moaned into his mouth as soon as his fingers hit flesh. Hips ground into his and it took everything in him not to begin pulling Sam’s clothes off him. Instead he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “Jesus Sammy.” He tried not to notice how breathless he sounded.
“You’ve been carrying that around for three years?” Sam asked.
“Not as long as some.”
Sam sat up, his thighs straddling Dean as he did, his eyes taking in the piles of books. Dean could feel it when he came across the oldest of the books, an old travel-battered Dr. Seuss.
“How did you hide them?”
“False covers on some. Luck when I was younger. Found a girl who could sew and put a hidden pocket in my bag when I got a little older. He found some over the years, but never all of them.”
Sam leaned back over him then, lips brushing over Dean’s cheeks before whispering in his ear. “Jesus Dean I was only 6 when… you’ve been hiding these since you were 10? God I love you, I can’t believe.... Can’t believe you did all this for me.”
He knew there was more to it than books. It was about Dean noticing how upset Sam had been at the loss, about Dean still calling him Sam-I-Am after John made him give the book away, about Dean learning to hide things from John when he was only 10 years old because he wanted to give it back to Sam some day. It was about years of paying attention and taking care of him and loving him more than any one else.
He brought their lips together and it was hard and demanding, needy because Dean couldn’t say the words, couldn’t say them in this context yet as much as he felt it. Sam’s lips softened the kiss as he pulled back every so slightly, whispering “I know” as he trailed kisses across Dean’s lips and cheek, over his eyes and forehead until Dean felt as safe and loved as he’d always hoped he made Sam feel.
When Sam pulled back enough to look him in the eye, Dean was able to smile again and he kissed Sam lightly one more time before handing Sam his book. Sam laughed as he took it, but instead of moving away from Dean, he repositioned him until he was lying with his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh as he read.
Dean gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to get in a comfortable position to read his own book, but in the end he gave up. He wasn’t going to be able to concentrate anyway, not with Sam in his lap like that. Instead, he just leaned back, closing his eyes and letting his fingers twine through Sam’s hair.
It was completely dark when he woke again, the feel of Sam’s lips pressed to his. He wrapped his hands around Sam’s neck, pulling him closer. Sam laughed against his mouth and Dean let him go.
“That works even better than coffee.” Sam teased. “Think I’ll wake you like that from now on.”
Dean smiled, the sleepy haze gone from his brain as he realized where they were. “I wouldn’t complain.” He said softly as he sat up. He looked out the windows of the boxcar and had no idea how long he’d been out. “We should probably get back to civilization.”
Sam sighed but nodded. “Yeah, we should.”
It only took Dean a couple minutes to clean up the food they’d brought while Sam packed up the books he wanted to take with him. They closed it up and Dean confessed how much help Jessica had been with the whole thing. It didn’t diminish the experience for Sam and Dean could see it in his eyes, the way Sam understood how hard it was for Dean to ask someone to help him with this. It was hard for him to ask for help in anything, but to plan the seduction of the little brother? He didn’t tell Sam how long he’d sat in front of Jessica’s apartment, afraid to ask but determined to anyway.
The car ride how was pleasantly quiet, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts, but Sam’s hand shifted from Dean’s knee to thigh and back again over the course of the drive. Dean didn’t think he realized he was doing it, but it was comforting, the way Sam unconsciously kept the contact between them.
When they got home, Dean stopped at the top of the stairs, his keys in hand. After a second, he let them in and walked with Sam towards their rooms. He stopped Sam, leaning in to kiss him lightly. Sam tried to deepen the kiss but Dean pulled away first. “Good night Sammy.”
Sam seemed surprised by Dean’s words, but his eyes softened a second later. “Good night Dean.”
Sam stepped back into his room and Dean stood there for a second before deciding he really needed a cold shower.
He didn’t linger in the shower. The cold water took the bite out of his desires but knowing that Sam was just down the hall, that his brother wanted this as much as he did, made it hard to keep the interest down.
He dressed for bed, then remembered his promise to call Jess when he got home. He walked out to the living room to grab his cell and heard the shower start. He groaned at the image of Sam under the water and dialed the number.
“I can’t believe you forgot to call me!” Jessica answered the phone without a hello and Dean had to smile.
“I just got home and out of the shower. Calm down wench.”
“Oh my god! You had sex in an abandoned boxcar!”
“No we didn’t Jess.” He said with a laugh. One of the things he loved about Jess was her straight forwardness. “It went really well though. Dinner was good and he loved the books.”
“Then why was there no sex?” She sounded almost as disappointed as Sam had looked at the good bye kiss.
“Because he’s not a one night stand. I can’t… I need to make sure this is okay. I need to know we both have time to back off if it’s not going to work. I can’t lose him.”
“Dean,” he could hear the sigh in her voice. “He loves you. You don’t have to worry.”
“Well I do. And if it makes you feel better, there was a lot of making out in the abandoned boxcar.”
“Alright!”
He laughed. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said it earlier but for last night and today… just …”
“I know Dean. Love you baby. Call me this week and you can give me all the juicy details. And cook me dinner.”
“You know, if Sam wasn’t here…”
“We’d have totally shacked up the first night and never talked after that?”
“Good point. Night Jess.”
“Night Dean-o.”
He hung up the phone, smiling as he made his way to his room. He was ready to just relax when he walked in his room and found Sam sitting on his bed wearing boxers and a worn tee shirt. “Sammy?”
Sam looked up and everything about him, from the set of his shoulders to the look in his eyes, said he was nervous. “Dean… I just …” Dean sat down next to him and Sam nearly plowed him over as he buried his head in Dean’s neck. “Let me stay tonight. I just want to be close to you.”
Dean took a deep breath, taking in the clean scent of Sam as his wet hair dripped water down his back and chest. “Hey… Sam… come on.”
Sam sat up, looking concerned at Dean. He wanted to send Sam away because the image of Sam, spread out across his sheets was just too much and he didn’t trust himself with that in his head. Sam needed something tonight though, needed to know Dean was still there and he understood.
“Alright… just… not here Sammy.” He said, standing up. He pulled Sam to his feet and dragged him back to his own room. Sam stood in the doorway watching but when Dean got into his bed and pulled back the blanket for Sam, he crawled in quickly. He turned onto his side and looked up at Dean before laying his head on his brother’s chest.
“Thank you Dean.”
“Don’t worry about it Sam. Your bed is just as comfortable as mine.”
“I mean for everything else.” Sam leaned up then, brushing their lips together lightly before he set his head back over Dean’s heart. Dean let his fingers curl up in Sam’s hair as the other hand ran over his back. Sam’s hand landed on Dean’s hip and he gripped it tightly for a minute before releasing it.
It didn’t take long for Sam to fall asleep and Dean let himself be lulled himself. The last thought he had was that even their bodies realized they should be together, as their breath and the beat of their hearts became synchronized and one.
On To Eight O' Clock