Fate - continued.
Fate
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M Relationship, AU, Mention of Abuse of a Minor
Synopsis: Lord Samual Winchester is a gentleman of the 1750's English ton. He meets a charming whore called Dean, and his life becomes...complicated.
This was originally posted in 13 parts, but I have done it in less here... all 22,991 words of it!
http://lady-krystal-79.livejournal.com/2424.html
PART SEVEN
Dean found himself flat on his back on the bed, covered by a suddenly desperate lord, before he could blink. Sam was kissing him like he wanted to devour him whole. Dean let it go on for a while before taking control, using years of experience and the emotions he usually locked away to show Sam exactly how a kiss could be used to drive a partner crazy with desire. Sam pulled back gasping, his lower body writhing against Dean’s with insistent need. Dean reached down and stilled his movements with firm yet gentle hands on his hips.
“What do you want, milord? I will give you anything, but you must tell me.” Dean’s words were sinful incitement.
“Sam. Call me Sam.”
“Very well. Sam.” Dean crooned softly. “Tell me what you need...”
Sam gazed into the older man’s eyes and felt a crushing sense of uncertainty. “I do not know. That is, I have never...”
“Imagined being with another man?” Dean finished for him. Sam nodded and Dean smiled, not unkindly, but with reassurance. “How about I remove your clothes for you? After all, I do that all the time.”
Sam gave another nod, and smiled at his valet. It was certainly true. Dean helped him to disrobe every night. It was different, however, when Dean, with a sudden movement, laid Sam out on the bed beneath him and began to remove his clothes with skills learned elsewhere. Also very different was that Dean was trailing his fingers, and occasionally his lips, across the skin he was exposing. With Molly it had been so very different, more playful, more hurried, and far less forbidden. By the time Dean had him fully naked, Sam was completely hardened and ready to beg for attention.
Dean’s eyes swept over him from head to toe appreciatively, as though he had never allowed himself to really look at Sam before. “Do you want me to show you pleasure? Do you trust me?”
Without thought or hesitation, Sam replied, “Of course I trust you.”
Dean looked away, trying to hide the warmth that suddenly flooded his eyes, but Sam saw it, and was immensely gratified that he had been the one to put it there. Then Sam became distracted, for Dean had lowered his head and was teasing Sam’s nipples with his teeth and tongue. Sam had had no idea that the tiny little nubs could be so sensitive, nor that there seemed to be a direct link between them and his twitching arousal. Sinuously, Dean moved down Sam’s body, his trail of nipping kisses leaving tingling sensation behind them.
Despite everything, Sam was not prepared when Dean closed his lips over the sensitive tip of Sam’s arousal. Sam’s whole body jerked and he put his fist to his mouth to muffle the cry that escaped him. Dean hummed his approval and the vibration made Sam whimper. Dean’s hands tightened where they gripped Sam’s hips, the only warning Sam had before Dean opened his mouth and took more of Sam into the hot, moist depths. A couple of swallows and Sam could feel the constricting heat of Dean’s throat around the head, while the older man’s tongue fluttered like a trapped bird along the rest of his length. Sam was reduced to pleading and whimpering moans.
Dean started to pull off of Sam before swallowing him down again. It was nothing like thrusting into a woman’s warmth, this slick glide over which Sam had no control. He could feel the pressure of climax building, but fell back from it time and again. As though he knew it, Dean reached back, finding a spot between Sam’s balls and his anus and scraping over it, back and forth. With a sudden, shocking burst, Sam climaxed, his seed slipping down Dean’s willing throat.
Sam laid there for a few moments, catching his breath, gathering his wits and contemplating the enormity of what he had just done. Dean slowly drew away from him with eyes glittering with amusement. Sam reached for him. “Where are you going?”
Dean smiled and stood up. “You have a house full of guests that you must return to. Never fear, we can continue this at a later time.”
“Unfortunately, you are right. Quickly, help me re-dress.” Dean was already collecting his lord’s clothing, a smirk playing across those sinful lips. Sam knew he didn’t have to say anything, that Dean knew where they stood, but the words bubbled up anyway. “Dean?” His...wow, his lover, looked up and he had to smile. “Thank you.”
“Milord.” Dean replied, and then corrected himself, “Sam. It was my pleasure.”
***
Returning to his guests, Sam quickly surveyed the gathering for any signs of Lord Parker and was satisfied that the man was gone, so he sought out his friends, finding them in the games room playing billiards. The men greeted him and then returned to the serious business of the game. In time, talk turned to their night at Penelope’s and the man who had beat them all soundly at their own game before his services were engaged.
“I would not mind a rematch, that is for a certainty.” Thomas lamented.
“Why? So he can rob you again? The man is a professional hustler.” They laughed at the look of outrage Matthew’s comment had stirred on their friend’s face.
“What did you make of him?” Sam wondered out loud. “Apart from that?”
Simon answered first. “Charming enough, I suppose, but ultimately cold and harsh.”
“Self-confident.” Thomas added. “I rather got the impression that he knows a great deal about the darker side of life, and how to deal with it too.”
“Dangerous.” Was Edward’s comment.
“Well, he was kind to me.” Sam told them, not bothering to confirm that, for the most part, they were correct. They would probably never know the kind, gentle and vulnerable side of Dean.
“Totally out of character, from what I have heard.” Edward answered, then suggested with a sneer, “Probably after a new customer.”
Little did they know, Sam thought smugly to himself. Sadly, however, he now knew he could not even tell his friends about himself and his new valet. The problem was, how was he supposed to hide Dean on an ongoing basis? The answer was, he could not, not here in London. The season was practically over, so Sam decided to spend some time at the Winchester country estate. Perhaps Dean would even find another vocation there, in which case Sam could return to London for the next season with yet another valet. Whatever happened, Sam had made up his mind, he and Dean would travel to the country in the next week. He just hoped that there was no problem between his ‘unknown’ new valet and his father.
PART EIGHT
Sam awoke to the sound of someone singing. He sat up, flinching as his eyes were assaulted by the blinding midday sun. When they had adjusted, he was greeted by the sight of Dean folding and packing his clothes into his travel chest while softly humming tunes to himself. Occasionally, he broke into full song. Sam’s jaw dropped. Dean’s voice was low and pure, surprising in its clarity of tone. Dean turned around and stopped mid-word when he spotted Sam.
“Do not stop.” Sam told him.
“I do not sing in front of company.” Dean replied while actually blushing! Sam thought it was adorable.
“That is a shame. You have a lovely voice.”
“Oh, ahhh, thank you.”
“You are welcome.” Sam continued to smile. Dean returned to packing, which prompted Sam to ask, “What are you doing?”
“Packing your clothes.” Dean was more than capable of stating the obvious in a completely straight tone.
“Yes, thank you, I can see that.” Sam returned dryly. “What I meant was why?”
“Last night you told me we would be going to your country estate in the next few days. I thought I might as well get a start on packing while you slept.”
“My goodness, I do not even remember telling you.” Sam rubbed his eyes as if that could also wipe the cobwebs from his mind.
“You were pretty out of it by the time you returned last night.” Dean conceded.
“I am, ahh, sorry...that we did not...finish what was started.” Sam felt horrible that Dean had given him such great pleasure and he, Sam, had been most neglectful of returning the favour.
Dean smiled, amused. “I prefer my partners conscious. Besides, there is no rush.”
“You are most accommodating.”
Dean laughed and continued to pack. Sam, who had not gone to bed until the sun was already rising, rolled over, sighed, and let sleep take him once more.
***
That evening Sam was regretting that he had slept quite so long during the day. Now it was late evening and he was not tired in the least. He said as much to Dean, who smiled and continued to strip him of his day clothes. His night clothes sat neatly waiting on the bed, and Sam eyes them balefully. “Maybe I should go for a walk or something.”
“If you truly think you will have trouble sleeping then I am sure I know many strenuous activities that would quickly remedy the situation.” Dean was still smiling when he said it. Sam couldn’t prevent the blush that stole across his cheeks. He truly had not been thinking about that at all. Now the idea was out there, though...
“What did you have in mind?” Sam asked coyly.
Dean looked momentarily stumped, and it occurred to Sam that Dean had never been asked what he wanted to do. He confirmed it a moment later. “I do not know that I have a preference. I have always done whatever I was paid for.”
“Whatever we do here is of your own free will, Dean. However,” Sam gave his lover a cheeky grin, “if I am to be called ‘Sodomite’, I would actually like to be committing the act.”
When Dean looked at him, those hazel-green eyes were blown wide with desire. He made no comment, but instead shrugged out of his coat and reached for the buttons of his shirt. Sam watched, captivated by the slow, graceful movements and the skin that was gradually revealed. Dean bared himself to the waist, and then stopped. “Milord. Sam…are you sure this is what you want?”
“Are you sure that this is what you want?” Sam asked earnestly.
“I am.” Dean’s voice was solemn.
“Then so am I.” Sam smiled. “Now hurry up and get over here.”
“I will hurry if you do.” Sam loved seeing the lighter emotion in Dean’s too dark eyes, so he made a show of rushing to comply. As the remainder of his clothes went sailing across the room, Dean’s laughter echoed softly around the room.
Sam looked up and could have sworn his heart stopped beating in his chest for an instant. Dean stood there naked, laughter lighting up his features, and he was beautiful. Although his body was scarred by cruelties that Sam never wanted to imagine, it only added to the wiry strength in that slim form, silent testimony to a hard life and an indomitable will to live. Sam held out his hand. “Will you let me touch you?”
Dean stepped forward and allowed Sam to take his hand and pull him gently onto the bed. His eyes were full of warmth for the incredible young lord before him, this changeable creature who was part confident man and part uncertain child. This connection had existed between them, inexplicably, from the moment they had met, but Dean could never have envisioned this change of fortune for himself. “I will let you do whatever you wish. I trust you, Sam.”
Knowing how hard it must be for Dean to give his trust to another, Sam cherished those words as the precious gift that they were. “I could ask for no more, Dean. I never want to hurt you. I lo...”
Dean’s hand covered Sam’s mouth, and the older man shook his head. “Please, do not. For even if you are ready to say them, I am not ready for such words.” Sam conceded to his request, not least because Dean had sealed his mouth with his own, bestowing a kiss that was tender, hungry, and yearning all at once. Sam opened to it and swallowed down the taste of the man he had come so rapidly to love.
While they kissed, Dean moved so that he was straddling the larger man. Once in position, he began to rock slowly against Sam, a soft tease and retreat rhythm that had Sam’s sensitive cock swelling for more contact. When Dean pulled away, they were panting. “There is a vial on the bedside. Open it and coat your fingers with the oil.”
Sam couldn’t help the blush that stole across his cheeks, but he reached for the vial regardless. He was not entirely innocent in regards to relations between men. When the Pastor on their country estate had talked about sodomy in his sermon, Sam had innocently asked his father what the word meant. His father had given his a very long, very thorough explanation. Sam briefly wondered if his father had spoken from experience, but was immediately distracted from the thought as Dean continued to instruct him what to do.
“Now, start with just one.” Dean told him, and Sam reached down behind him to find the sensitive hole he was after. Finding it, he slowly pressed in, the oil helping to make it an easy glide. Dean squirmed above him while Sam marvelled at the tight, hot press of flesh around his finger. “Another.” Dean ordered, and Sam added a second finger to the first. Dean moaned and braced himself against Sam’s chest, his breathing turned into small, gasping pants. Sam was about to pull away, sure he was hurting the other man, when Dean raised his head, glittering eyes catching Sam’s. “My god, such big fingers...big hands.”
Sam blushed. He had always been a little embarrassed by his extraordinary height and size. Dean, however, was not complaining. No, going by his expression, Dean liked this very much. “This is good?”
“Mmmm.” Dean hummed his agreement. “Move them in and out.” Sam did so, making the other man shudder. “Yes, that is...” Dean broke off with a soft whimper that did things to Sam’s cock before panting out, “Oh god, yes, you have got it.”
Dean was making small movements, leaning back into Sam’s touch, trying to force those fingers deeper within himself. Sam was starting to feel a little desperate himself. “Please, Dean, I want to...I need...” He was having trouble expressing himself, all but undone by the decadent sight above him and the arousing sounds his lover was making. Dean did not need instruction, though. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Picking up the discarded vial, Dean poured some of the contents into one of his hands and, without losing his rocking rhythm at all, reached back to take Sam in his hot, slick grasp. Sam jerked, his fingers pushing deeper, harder, but Dean only moaned and continued his preparation of Sam.
Just when Sam thought it was all over, when he was ready to explode, Dean stopped. Sam withdrew his fingers, and Dean smiled encouragingly at him. Taking Sam’s hands, he put them on his hips. “Here. Hold onto me. Do not do anything else, just hold on.”
Sam nodded, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. He was really going to do this. They were really going to do this. Dean moved again, putting Sam at his entrance, and Sam held his breath as that tight passage slowly gave and the head of his cock was surrounded by heat and pressure. His breath whooshed out in a rush, and he gasped in another as Dean continued to lower himself, taking more and more of Sam into his body. Sam could feel a fine trembling in the smaller man and eyes he had not realised he had closed flew open. “Dean, stop! I am hurting you...”
Dean’s eyes opened too, focusing sharply on Sam. He shook his head. “No. Just...let me...” Suddenly, Dean plunged down, fully sheathing Sam in contracting flesh. They both cried out at the shock of it, staying locked together, unmoving, while Dean’s body adjusted to the intrusion. Sam wanted to berate Dean for letting Sam hurt him, but Sam had to concentrate on not taking advantage and thrusting up into those incredible sensations. Then Dean shifted, and it seemed like something gave, and they could both breathe again. Dean started to laugh breathlessly.
“Oh god, you are big.” He gave another huff of laughter, and then sighed, “It feels so good, Sam. You fill me right up. I can feel you everywhere.”
Sam didn’t have a chance to respond, as Dean started moving above him, controlling the depth and speed of Sam’s thrusts with the sultry, slinky swaying of his body, lifting and lowering himself however it pleased him. Sam gave into him immediately, trusting Dean as much as the other man trusted him. The feel of Dean’s body, so tight around him as he slid in and out, was slowly driving him closer to climax. Dean was making incredible sounds; whimpers and gasps and moans. Sam knew he must be touching that sensitive spot inside Dean that his father had explained about. Sam’s hips began to lift of their own accord, thrusting up into Dean as the other man plunged down.
“Yes.” Dean muttered. “Yes. More.”
The small encouragement was all Sam needed to break the fine thread of his control. His hands tightened on Dean’s hips and he began pulling the smaller man down into his thrusts. Dean cried out, his body arching with the pleasure of it. The sound went straight to Sam’s cock, and he felt the rush of impending climax.
“Dean! Oh god, I am...” The warning ended in a shout as his body convulsed and he filled Dean with his seed. Dean continued to move, milking every last sensation from Sam, and then stilled, clamping around Sam like a vice as his own pleasure washed over him. Sam felt the warmth on his stomach and smiled. Dean collapsed over him, panting harshly. Between his own gulping breaths, Sam gasped, “Dean?”
“Yes?” It sounded like that one word had been a tremendous effort.
“I am really sure that I like sex with men, now.”
Dean lifted his head and met Sam’s laughing eyes. His own crinkled slightly as he started chuckling softly. It became full-blown laughter when Sam started snickering too. Sam was happier in that moment than he had ever been in his life.
PART NINE
Sam woke up with Dean still pressed against his side. It was still dark outside and Sam wondered what had woken him. Dean shifted in his sleep, a restless movement, followed by a low murmur. Sam had not caught the barely uttered words, but he knew their tone. Whatever Dean was dreaming, it was not pleasant. He was about to wake the other man when Dean’s eyes shot open. It obviously took Dean a moment to realise where he was, but then his eyes met Sam’s.
“I should go.” Were the surprising words that first came out of Dean’s mouth.
“Why?” Sam asked, truly without a clue. “Are you not comfortable?”
“Too comfortable.” Dean muttered.
Sam smiled then. “Dean, it is normal for lovers to spend the night together. At least, it is when you are not paying for their time.”
“I have never had a lover that did not pay me for the privilege.” Dean looked away.
Sam was struck. He turned Dean back to him. “Truly? Never?” Dean just shook his head, and Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He was the first person Dean had slept with of his own accord. “You never cease to amaze me.”
Dean smiled softly. “Nor you I.”
“Go back to sleep, Dean.” Sam smoothed a hand down the other man’s face, a gentle caress that, this time, could be leant into without fear of the weakness it might show. Dean complied and lay back down beside Sam. Sam hoped that the next time he woke, Dean was exactly where he was now.
***
Sam’s hope was not to be. He was not going to complain about the reality though. As consciousness filtered into Sam’s brain, so did pleasure spread throughout his body. He jerked into full consciousness when a hot, wet mouth closed over his already engorged organ. “Dean!” Sam gasped out.
“Mmmmm?” The hummed query vibrated right through Sam’s cock and then the rest of his body. Sam just moaned, and Dean chuckled. How he did that with his mouth full, Sam was not entirely sure, but neither did he really care. A warm, slick finger pressed gently into his back passage, and Sam frowned at the odd sensation. It was not painful, but neither was it as pleasurable as the mouth sucking at him. Dean, however, started to move the finger, seeming to search for something and...finding it! Dear god! Sam keened at the blinding pleasure. Is that what Dean had been feeling last night?
“Dean...” Sam tried again.
This time Dean pulled back. “Is it too much? Do you wish me to stop?”
“No!” Sam was quick to assure him. “I want...I want you to do to me what I did to you.”
Dean stilled completely, his wide eyes meeting Sam’s. “Milord...”
“Sam.”
“Sam.” Dean tried again, but he was not sure what he wanted to say himself. “Sam, there is no need...”
“I want to know, Dean. If I can do it to you, I should be able to have you do it to me.” Sam gave him a half-cheeky, half-embarrassed grin. “Besides, what you did just now felt...ah, incredible.”
Dean looked him up and down before holding Sam’s gaze with his deadly serious eyes. “Then we shall do as you wish, but you will do everything I say and I will be in control. Do you agree?”
Sam gave a snorting laugh. “As though you were not the one in control last night. You have my oath, Dean, we will do this your way.”
Dean finally smiled. “Very well, then. Lay back and let me show you the way of it.”
Sam did as he was told and was rewarded for his obedience with the return of that slick finger to his passage and the sensitive spot it had found before. AT once, Sam was lost in the twin pleasures of the finger and Dean’s mouth against his arousal. When a second finger joined the first, Sam squirmed at the slight discomfort, but relaxed into it at Dean’s soft encouragement.
Dean swallowed Sam down into his throat as he added a third finger, and the shock of pained was drowned under the flood of pleasure. The fingers continued moving inside him, making him fell filled and stretched, but also that fleeting, blinding ecstasy whenever Dean angled them just right. Finally, Sam felt the climax tingling along his spine. “Dean... I am near...”
The sound Dean made in his throat was like a rumbling purr. Sam got the message, and it was just as well, for he could hold back no more. With a short, sharp cry, he let the sensation overwhelm him and, once again, Dean drank him down. This time, while he lay satiated, Dean pulled back and reached down to take his own organ in his oil-coated hand, making it slick too. The next thing Sam felt was the blunt head of Dean’s cock at his entrance, and then the burning pressure as Dean slowly pushed himself into Sam’s relaxed body. He tensed when the pain began to overwhelm the lassitude, and Dean stilled, panting.
“It is only for a moment.” Dean soothed. “Relax for me, Sammy. Let your body adjust, and then I promise it will feel good.”
Sam did his best to comply, and Dean continued to inch into him. It never became too much, and Sam relaxed further. Dean continued to whisper encouragements and commendations until he was buried as deep in Sam as he could go. He remained there waiting, waiting for the sign that Sam was ready to continue. It came as a sift frown and a puzzled, “Dean?”
Dean smiled. “Yes, Sammy. Now it will feel good, just like I promised.”
The slow, shallow thrusts Dean began with slid over that bundle of nerves inside Sam, and it did feel good, but it was not enough. After a few moments of these teasing glides, Sam tried to make the pressure harder. Dean simply stilled completely. Sam whimpered. “Please...”
There was no verbal reply, nor any change to Dean’s expression, but the next thrust came harder, exactly what Sam had needed. Another thrust, and another, and then Dean changed the angle and plunged once more. Sam arched up, shouting in shocked pleasure. He had never felt anything like this; the fullness, the sharp bursts of pleasure, and the build up towards his climax seeming to start somewhere much deeper within him.
Dean continued the assault without letup, and Sam could barely catch his breath to make the desperate, uncontrollable noises being pulled from him. With a rush that seemed to start in his fingers, his toes, every extremity, his climax ripped through him, emptying him out, and making him scream with the indescribable pleasure.
When Dean filled him with liquid warmth, the soft caress was enough to make Sam shudder one more time. He felt numb, his body heavy and completely wrung out, and his mind drifting hazily through the memories of the last few moments. Dean’s hands were ghosting over him in gentle, soothing caresses. Sam realised that those hands were also shaking, and he managed to capture them in his own. Neither of them said anything, they simply clung to one another, sharing emotions that had no words. Finally, Dean had to move, and Sam winced in discomfort. Dean kissed him regretfully before whispering, “We have time, Sammy. Sleep some more.”
“You called me that before.” Sam smiled with his eyes closed. “I like it, but only when you say it. Is not that strange?”
Whether Dean replied or not, Sam would never know. Sleep took him in its arm embrace, and his last thought was that it felt just like Dean’s.
PART TEN
The rest of the week passed quickly. The household was ablaze with organised chaos as they packed up everything necessary for the move to the country. Dean grumbled about the amount of work such an endeavour engendered, pointing out several times that his one bag had taken less than an hour to pack. Sam smiled and shrugged, and Dean would sigh and roll his eyes.
Before they left, Thomas and Matthew called in to say goodbye. They had heard of Sam’s plans to leave now that the season was ended. When they said they may come and visit, Sam smiled widely and agreed that he would enjoy their company, even as he wished he could tell them to stay away. Dean, who had heard the exchange from another room, had laughed when Sam had complained, telling him that he should be grateful for having such good friends.
The actual trip from London to Winchester Estate passed without incident. Sam spent the whole time fretting about how his father would react to Dean, how he could explain the man’s history, and whether his up-to-this-point open-minded father should be told that Sam had fallen in love with another man. Their arrival, however, proved to be something of an anti-climax.
Hawkins met them at the door, the welcoming smile on his face encompassing them both. As soon as they were inside, he announced, “Your father is not here, milord. He has gone hunting.” Seeing the look on Sam’s face, he added, “Wolves.”
At that, Sam jerked. A whole month had passed since Dean had saved him from the werewolf, and now his father was out doing exactly what Dean had been doing. He saw from the look in Dean’s eyes that he, too, had grasped the full concept of the statement. Dean, however, kept his mouth shut. “Thank you, Hawkins. I will simply settle myself in my rooms. Let me know when Father arrives. Whenever that may be.”
The old man did not have time to answer before another man, middle-aged and dusty, came striding through the front door bellowing, “Hawkins! What is all that fuss out there about? Has my son…” The booming voice stopped dead, and the man’s next word was a whispered, “Dean.”
“You!” Dean gasped in the same instant.
“You are alive.”
“You are real.”
Sam looked between the two men, who kept speaking together. They both looked pale, shaken, and disbelieving. “What is it?” Sam wanted to know.
“Sam, you did it. You found him. How? Where?”
“Who?” Sam asked, exasperated and confused.
“Your brother, of course. Your brother…Dean.”
***
It took all of Hawkins skill to get the three shocked men into the sitting room. In typical Winchester style, instead of being overjoyed at having been reunited, all three of them sat at the edges of the room, watching each other like adversaries. None of them seemed inclined to speak first, so it was Hawkins who set the ball rolling. He went to Dean’s side and, with a supportive hand on his shoulder, asked, “What do you remember, lad? You seemed to recognise your…John.” He corrected himself at the last moment, prompted by the disbelief in Dean’s eyes.
Dean took a deep breath and refused to look at anyone as he answered, “Fire. About the earliest thing I can remember is fire, and a crying baby. Sometimes I get…flashes, things that I might have remembered, often in response to a situation. A few times there were faces…” Dean glanced at John Winchester quickly before looking away. “I thought that maybe I was just creating a fantasy in my mind, things I wished I had…”
“It was the night Mary died.” John sighed. “You were four years old. I put your baby brother in your arms and told you to take him outside, keep him safe. I could not save Mary, and when I came out I found Sam hidden beside the neighbours’ front steps, and you were nowhere to be seen. I was crazy in my grief; mourning for my wife, searching for my son, and with a baby to care for.” John’s anguish still echoed in his eyes. “I could not find you and, after months of running after rumours, I finally could not take the heartbreak any longer. I banned your name in our household, because even the sound of it reminded me of all I had lost.”
“I think…they kept me locked in the basement for quite some time. They must have been hiding me until things died down.” Dean told them softly.
John’s eyes flared with fury. “I will kill them.”
“They are already dead.” Dean’s look of satisfaction matched John’s perfectly, father and son uncannily alike despite their years of separation. It only made Sam all the more aware of how true this unbelievable story was.
“Samuel? Have you nothing to say?” John was confused by his opinionated son’s uncharacteristic silence.
“You have no idea…you do not know…” Sam could not force a full sentence from his mouth. Dean seemed to divine his thoughts.
“Sam...do not...” It was a plea, but one that Sam could not heed. The enormity of the situation was threatening to overwhelm him.
“Are you saying that this does not bother you? Sodomy is one thing, Dean, but incest is not the same thing!” Sam shouted before jerking out of his seat and flinging himself out of the room. Dean shrank into his seat, his eyes darting about, seeking the most expedient exit.
Hawkins, who was exceptionally unruffled by this outburst, gave John a meaningful glance before announcing, “I will follow him and make sure he does himself no harm.”
John nodded and waited for the older man to leave the room. He sat a moment longer, watching his eldest son before sighing. “Listen to me. Your brother has led a somewhat sheltered life. I think you and I are fully aware that there are worse things in this world than sexual misconduct, correct?”
Dean nodded his head and answered warily, “Yes, sir.”
John smiled. “Good. Now, you had best tell me what has happened. From as far back as you remember until now.”
***
Dean felt drained. He did not think he had ever spoken about himself, revealed so much of himself, as he had to the man who was his father. There was something about him, perhaps the patient, quiet way that he listened, that had had Dean sharing every moment of his life that he could remember. The man’s barely leashed fury at Dean’s mistreatment had been oddly comforting too. The last thing his father had said to him before he left the room still echoed in his head.
“You are a Winchester, and true to your birth, there s no doubt about that. We are survivors. We are men who take the excrement thrown at us and turn it to our advantage. We do not fear the dark, and fully embrace the darkness in ourselves. I could not be prouder of you had I raised you myself.” With a small, amused smirk, he added, “Now, go find your brother and bring him around to our way of thinking.”
Right. Because that would be easy. Convince Sam, his brother, that their new relationship need not impact on their current relationship. Sam was not like him. He was not, apparently, like his father either. How could he possibly make Sam see things his way? Dean reached Sam’s door with that question still unanswered. However, never one to step back from a challenge, Dean opened the door and entered the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
***
Hawkins sat down opposite John. “I promise, John, I had no idea that the boy was your son, despite the unusual name.”
John waved his hand dismissively. “Never mind, old friend. There would have been little you could have done differently had you known.”
“He is very much like you.” Hawkins smiled. “I recognised that much from the beginning.” The smile faded. “But he has suffered much in his life. He will never be the kind of son Sam is.”
“Is not one son like Sam enough?” Old bitterness flavoured his tone, memories of too many arguments still close to the surface.
“You love him, regardless.”
“Of course I do. I am his father.” John paused. “Somehow I managed to impress on Dean in four years what a lifetime has not instilled in Sam. The boy is a hunter, just like us.”
“Mmmm. And he knows another hunter when he sees one. He picked up in two days what Sam has never suspected. He came straight out and asked me what I hunted, and why did Sam need protecting.” Hawkins shook his head in wry amusement. “I really should have known he was your son.”
John gave a low laugh. After a moment, he sobered. “It does not bother you that they are...having relations?”
Sighing, Hawkins shook his head. “In light of some of the things we have had to do over the years, I do not believe I have the moral grounds to condemn them. It seems that the apple did not fall far from the tree, in either case. I knew it was only a matter of time. The way they looked at one another...” Hawkins cocked an eyebrow. “And you?”
John snorted. “As you say, I hardly have room to complain, do I? And I do not see how I could condemn incest as worse than sodomy. I am sure our Pastor would tell you that all sin is evil, regardless of its nature.” With another sigh, he added, “But I am not sure that Sam will see it that way, and I am afraid of what such a rejection will do to Dean. The boy has been through so much...” John broke off, his fists clenched in impotent fury. “I do not know how to even begin to ask for his forgiveness.”
“It would not occur to him that he has anything to forgive you for. Despite his life, he is more likely to accept blame than assign it to others. Besides, John, you did all that you could. I remember. We were all so terrified for you. Let it go, and focus on making Dean feel welcome as your son instead.”
“How? How do I make him feel like he has a family after all this time?” John was at a loss.
Hawkins smiled, and it was the smile of a man who was, underneath his exterior appearance, a dangerous man. “Start with what you have in common; the family business. Take him hunting.”
***
“Dean. Get out. Please, I cannot...” Sam did not finish the thought.
Dean shook his head. “Have you forgotten already? I am the older brother. I do not have to listen to you.”
Sam’s head shot up and his mouth dropped open. “Have I forgotten? Have I forgotten? Not at all. That is the problem. I remember full well who you are, and I remember what we have done.”
Nonplussed, Dean simply looked at him. “So you were wiling to commit the sin of sodomy with barely a second thought, but you cannot accept that it was incest? Is he difference truly so marked for you?”
“You think they are the same?” Sam was incredulous.
“A sin is a sin. You are merely splitting hairs.”
“At what point did you lose all sense of morality?” Sam hissed.
Dean’s eyes went wide with shock and hurt, but his voice was mild when he replied, “Probably about the time I was choking on some stranger’s cock in my throat. Or maybe it was while I lay bleeding after I was ‘hired’ for the first time.”
Sam was immediately contrite, tears clogging his throat. “I am sorry. That was a stupid, cruel thing to say.”
“No. I am sorry. You are not like me. I just thought...” Dean took a breath and looked away. “I thought you loved me. I thought that the words I stopped you from saying were ‘I love you’. It seems I was right to stop you. At least now you have no need to take them back.”
Sam was up and across the room in a heartbeat, his hands gripping Dean’s shoulders tightly. “Do not say that. Please, do not say that. I meant every word I said, and those that I could not, with all my heart.”
Dean looked up, and his eyes were full of pain and anger. “Is your heart so fickle, then? Has what you felt changed so much that you can cast me away?”
“No.” Sam whispered. It was the truth, a truth he could not reconcile himself to.
The glint in Dean’s eyes was triumphant. He stepped into Sam’s space and pressed himself against as much of Sam as he could. He murmured, “And does this feel less pleasurable now?”
Sam hung his head. “No.”
“And this?” Dean’s voice was barely there, lost in anticipation, as he captured Sam’s mouth in a gentle kiss, a kiss that Dean poured his heart into. When he pulled back, Sam shuddered. “Does this feel wrong to you?”
Sam tore himself away and cried, “No! Are you satisfied? No! It does not feel bad, or wrong. It still feels like the most perfect thing in my life.” Dean smiled, happy, but was immediately crushed when Sam went on, “But I cannot do this! Please, Dean, do not ask it of me.”
“I would never treat you as I have been treated. I would never force you into anything you did not wish.” Dean said harshly. “I told you to be sure. I told you...” He cut himself off as his voice broke. Whirling around, he left the room, left Sam.
Sam buried his face in his hands and wept. He had made Dean do the one thing Sam had never seen him do. As Dean had spun away, Sam had seen the tears escape those glittering green eyes. Dean, who had been hurt all of his life, had finally broken, and it was Sam’s fault.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M Relationship, AU, Mention of Abuse of a Minor
Synopsis: Lord Samual Winchester is a gentleman of the 1750's English ton. He meets a charming whore called Dean, and his life becomes...complicated.
This was originally posted in 13 parts, but I have done it in less here... all 22,991 words of it!
http://lady-krystal-79.livejournal.com/2424.html
PART SEVEN
Dean found himself flat on his back on the bed, covered by a suddenly desperate lord, before he could blink. Sam was kissing him like he wanted to devour him whole. Dean let it go on for a while before taking control, using years of experience and the emotions he usually locked away to show Sam exactly how a kiss could be used to drive a partner crazy with desire. Sam pulled back gasping, his lower body writhing against Dean’s with insistent need. Dean reached down and stilled his movements with firm yet gentle hands on his hips.
“What do you want, milord? I will give you anything, but you must tell me.” Dean’s words were sinful incitement.
“Sam. Call me Sam.”
“Very well. Sam.” Dean crooned softly. “Tell me what you need...”
Sam gazed into the older man’s eyes and felt a crushing sense of uncertainty. “I do not know. That is, I have never...”
“Imagined being with another man?” Dean finished for him. Sam nodded and Dean smiled, not unkindly, but with reassurance. “How about I remove your clothes for you? After all, I do that all the time.”
Sam gave another nod, and smiled at his valet. It was certainly true. Dean helped him to disrobe every night. It was different, however, when Dean, with a sudden movement, laid Sam out on the bed beneath him and began to remove his clothes with skills learned elsewhere. Also very different was that Dean was trailing his fingers, and occasionally his lips, across the skin he was exposing. With Molly it had been so very different, more playful, more hurried, and far less forbidden. By the time Dean had him fully naked, Sam was completely hardened and ready to beg for attention.
Dean’s eyes swept over him from head to toe appreciatively, as though he had never allowed himself to really look at Sam before. “Do you want me to show you pleasure? Do you trust me?”
Without thought or hesitation, Sam replied, “Of course I trust you.”
Dean looked away, trying to hide the warmth that suddenly flooded his eyes, but Sam saw it, and was immensely gratified that he had been the one to put it there. Then Sam became distracted, for Dean had lowered his head and was teasing Sam’s nipples with his teeth and tongue. Sam had had no idea that the tiny little nubs could be so sensitive, nor that there seemed to be a direct link between them and his twitching arousal. Sinuously, Dean moved down Sam’s body, his trail of nipping kisses leaving tingling sensation behind them.
Despite everything, Sam was not prepared when Dean closed his lips over the sensitive tip of Sam’s arousal. Sam’s whole body jerked and he put his fist to his mouth to muffle the cry that escaped him. Dean hummed his approval and the vibration made Sam whimper. Dean’s hands tightened where they gripped Sam’s hips, the only warning Sam had before Dean opened his mouth and took more of Sam into the hot, moist depths. A couple of swallows and Sam could feel the constricting heat of Dean’s throat around the head, while the older man’s tongue fluttered like a trapped bird along the rest of his length. Sam was reduced to pleading and whimpering moans.
Dean started to pull off of Sam before swallowing him down again. It was nothing like thrusting into a woman’s warmth, this slick glide over which Sam had no control. He could feel the pressure of climax building, but fell back from it time and again. As though he knew it, Dean reached back, finding a spot between Sam’s balls and his anus and scraping over it, back and forth. With a sudden, shocking burst, Sam climaxed, his seed slipping down Dean’s willing throat.
Sam laid there for a few moments, catching his breath, gathering his wits and contemplating the enormity of what he had just done. Dean slowly drew away from him with eyes glittering with amusement. Sam reached for him. “Where are you going?”
Dean smiled and stood up. “You have a house full of guests that you must return to. Never fear, we can continue this at a later time.”
“Unfortunately, you are right. Quickly, help me re-dress.” Dean was already collecting his lord’s clothing, a smirk playing across those sinful lips. Sam knew he didn’t have to say anything, that Dean knew where they stood, but the words bubbled up anyway. “Dean?” His...wow, his lover, looked up and he had to smile. “Thank you.”
“Milord.” Dean replied, and then corrected himself, “Sam. It was my pleasure.”
***
Returning to his guests, Sam quickly surveyed the gathering for any signs of Lord Parker and was satisfied that the man was gone, so he sought out his friends, finding them in the games room playing billiards. The men greeted him and then returned to the serious business of the game. In time, talk turned to their night at Penelope’s and the man who had beat them all soundly at their own game before his services were engaged.
“I would not mind a rematch, that is for a certainty.” Thomas lamented.
“Why? So he can rob you again? The man is a professional hustler.” They laughed at the look of outrage Matthew’s comment had stirred on their friend’s face.
“What did you make of him?” Sam wondered out loud. “Apart from that?”
Simon answered first. “Charming enough, I suppose, but ultimately cold and harsh.”
“Self-confident.” Thomas added. “I rather got the impression that he knows a great deal about the darker side of life, and how to deal with it too.”
“Dangerous.” Was Edward’s comment.
“Well, he was kind to me.” Sam told them, not bothering to confirm that, for the most part, they were correct. They would probably never know the kind, gentle and vulnerable side of Dean.
“Totally out of character, from what I have heard.” Edward answered, then suggested with a sneer, “Probably after a new customer.”
Little did they know, Sam thought smugly to himself. Sadly, however, he now knew he could not even tell his friends about himself and his new valet. The problem was, how was he supposed to hide Dean on an ongoing basis? The answer was, he could not, not here in London. The season was practically over, so Sam decided to spend some time at the Winchester country estate. Perhaps Dean would even find another vocation there, in which case Sam could return to London for the next season with yet another valet. Whatever happened, Sam had made up his mind, he and Dean would travel to the country in the next week. He just hoped that there was no problem between his ‘unknown’ new valet and his father.
PART EIGHT
Sam awoke to the sound of someone singing. He sat up, flinching as his eyes were assaulted by the blinding midday sun. When they had adjusted, he was greeted by the sight of Dean folding and packing his clothes into his travel chest while softly humming tunes to himself. Occasionally, he broke into full song. Sam’s jaw dropped. Dean’s voice was low and pure, surprising in its clarity of tone. Dean turned around and stopped mid-word when he spotted Sam.
“Do not stop.” Sam told him.
“I do not sing in front of company.” Dean replied while actually blushing! Sam thought it was adorable.
“That is a shame. You have a lovely voice.”
“Oh, ahhh, thank you.”
“You are welcome.” Sam continued to smile. Dean returned to packing, which prompted Sam to ask, “What are you doing?”
“Packing your clothes.” Dean was more than capable of stating the obvious in a completely straight tone.
“Yes, thank you, I can see that.” Sam returned dryly. “What I meant was why?”
“Last night you told me we would be going to your country estate in the next few days. I thought I might as well get a start on packing while you slept.”
“My goodness, I do not even remember telling you.” Sam rubbed his eyes as if that could also wipe the cobwebs from his mind.
“You were pretty out of it by the time you returned last night.” Dean conceded.
“I am, ahh, sorry...that we did not...finish what was started.” Sam felt horrible that Dean had given him such great pleasure and he, Sam, had been most neglectful of returning the favour.
Dean smiled, amused. “I prefer my partners conscious. Besides, there is no rush.”
“You are most accommodating.”
Dean laughed and continued to pack. Sam, who had not gone to bed until the sun was already rising, rolled over, sighed, and let sleep take him once more.
***
That evening Sam was regretting that he had slept quite so long during the day. Now it was late evening and he was not tired in the least. He said as much to Dean, who smiled and continued to strip him of his day clothes. His night clothes sat neatly waiting on the bed, and Sam eyes them balefully. “Maybe I should go for a walk or something.”
“If you truly think you will have trouble sleeping then I am sure I know many strenuous activities that would quickly remedy the situation.” Dean was still smiling when he said it. Sam couldn’t prevent the blush that stole across his cheeks. He truly had not been thinking about that at all. Now the idea was out there, though...
“What did you have in mind?” Sam asked coyly.
Dean looked momentarily stumped, and it occurred to Sam that Dean had never been asked what he wanted to do. He confirmed it a moment later. “I do not know that I have a preference. I have always done whatever I was paid for.”
“Whatever we do here is of your own free will, Dean. However,” Sam gave his lover a cheeky grin, “if I am to be called ‘Sodomite’, I would actually like to be committing the act.”
When Dean looked at him, those hazel-green eyes were blown wide with desire. He made no comment, but instead shrugged out of his coat and reached for the buttons of his shirt. Sam watched, captivated by the slow, graceful movements and the skin that was gradually revealed. Dean bared himself to the waist, and then stopped. “Milord. Sam…are you sure this is what you want?”
“Are you sure that this is what you want?” Sam asked earnestly.
“I am.” Dean’s voice was solemn.
“Then so am I.” Sam smiled. “Now hurry up and get over here.”
“I will hurry if you do.” Sam loved seeing the lighter emotion in Dean’s too dark eyes, so he made a show of rushing to comply. As the remainder of his clothes went sailing across the room, Dean’s laughter echoed softly around the room.
Sam looked up and could have sworn his heart stopped beating in his chest for an instant. Dean stood there naked, laughter lighting up his features, and he was beautiful. Although his body was scarred by cruelties that Sam never wanted to imagine, it only added to the wiry strength in that slim form, silent testimony to a hard life and an indomitable will to live. Sam held out his hand. “Will you let me touch you?”
Dean stepped forward and allowed Sam to take his hand and pull him gently onto the bed. His eyes were full of warmth for the incredible young lord before him, this changeable creature who was part confident man and part uncertain child. This connection had existed between them, inexplicably, from the moment they had met, but Dean could never have envisioned this change of fortune for himself. “I will let you do whatever you wish. I trust you, Sam.”
Knowing how hard it must be for Dean to give his trust to another, Sam cherished those words as the precious gift that they were. “I could ask for no more, Dean. I never want to hurt you. I lo...”
Dean’s hand covered Sam’s mouth, and the older man shook his head. “Please, do not. For even if you are ready to say them, I am not ready for such words.” Sam conceded to his request, not least because Dean had sealed his mouth with his own, bestowing a kiss that was tender, hungry, and yearning all at once. Sam opened to it and swallowed down the taste of the man he had come so rapidly to love.
While they kissed, Dean moved so that he was straddling the larger man. Once in position, he began to rock slowly against Sam, a soft tease and retreat rhythm that had Sam’s sensitive cock swelling for more contact. When Dean pulled away, they were panting. “There is a vial on the bedside. Open it and coat your fingers with the oil.”
Sam couldn’t help the blush that stole across his cheeks, but he reached for the vial regardless. He was not entirely innocent in regards to relations between men. When the Pastor on their country estate had talked about sodomy in his sermon, Sam had innocently asked his father what the word meant. His father had given his a very long, very thorough explanation. Sam briefly wondered if his father had spoken from experience, but was immediately distracted from the thought as Dean continued to instruct him what to do.
“Now, start with just one.” Dean told him, and Sam reached down behind him to find the sensitive hole he was after. Finding it, he slowly pressed in, the oil helping to make it an easy glide. Dean squirmed above him while Sam marvelled at the tight, hot press of flesh around his finger. “Another.” Dean ordered, and Sam added a second finger to the first. Dean moaned and braced himself against Sam’s chest, his breathing turned into small, gasping pants. Sam was about to pull away, sure he was hurting the other man, when Dean raised his head, glittering eyes catching Sam’s. “My god, such big fingers...big hands.”
Sam blushed. He had always been a little embarrassed by his extraordinary height and size. Dean, however, was not complaining. No, going by his expression, Dean liked this very much. “This is good?”
“Mmmm.” Dean hummed his agreement. “Move them in and out.” Sam did so, making the other man shudder. “Yes, that is...” Dean broke off with a soft whimper that did things to Sam’s cock before panting out, “Oh god, yes, you have got it.”
Dean was making small movements, leaning back into Sam’s touch, trying to force those fingers deeper within himself. Sam was starting to feel a little desperate himself. “Please, Dean, I want to...I need...” He was having trouble expressing himself, all but undone by the decadent sight above him and the arousing sounds his lover was making. Dean did not need instruction, though. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Picking up the discarded vial, Dean poured some of the contents into one of his hands and, without losing his rocking rhythm at all, reached back to take Sam in his hot, slick grasp. Sam jerked, his fingers pushing deeper, harder, but Dean only moaned and continued his preparation of Sam.
Just when Sam thought it was all over, when he was ready to explode, Dean stopped. Sam withdrew his fingers, and Dean smiled encouragingly at him. Taking Sam’s hands, he put them on his hips. “Here. Hold onto me. Do not do anything else, just hold on.”
Sam nodded, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. He was really going to do this. They were really going to do this. Dean moved again, putting Sam at his entrance, and Sam held his breath as that tight passage slowly gave and the head of his cock was surrounded by heat and pressure. His breath whooshed out in a rush, and he gasped in another as Dean continued to lower himself, taking more and more of Sam into his body. Sam could feel a fine trembling in the smaller man and eyes he had not realised he had closed flew open. “Dean, stop! I am hurting you...”
Dean’s eyes opened too, focusing sharply on Sam. He shook his head. “No. Just...let me...” Suddenly, Dean plunged down, fully sheathing Sam in contracting flesh. They both cried out at the shock of it, staying locked together, unmoving, while Dean’s body adjusted to the intrusion. Sam wanted to berate Dean for letting Sam hurt him, but Sam had to concentrate on not taking advantage and thrusting up into those incredible sensations. Then Dean shifted, and it seemed like something gave, and they could both breathe again. Dean started to laugh breathlessly.
“Oh god, you are big.” He gave another huff of laughter, and then sighed, “It feels so good, Sam. You fill me right up. I can feel you everywhere.”
Sam didn’t have a chance to respond, as Dean started moving above him, controlling the depth and speed of Sam’s thrusts with the sultry, slinky swaying of his body, lifting and lowering himself however it pleased him. Sam gave into him immediately, trusting Dean as much as the other man trusted him. The feel of Dean’s body, so tight around him as he slid in and out, was slowly driving him closer to climax. Dean was making incredible sounds; whimpers and gasps and moans. Sam knew he must be touching that sensitive spot inside Dean that his father had explained about. Sam’s hips began to lift of their own accord, thrusting up into Dean as the other man plunged down.
“Yes.” Dean muttered. “Yes. More.”
The small encouragement was all Sam needed to break the fine thread of his control. His hands tightened on Dean’s hips and he began pulling the smaller man down into his thrusts. Dean cried out, his body arching with the pleasure of it. The sound went straight to Sam’s cock, and he felt the rush of impending climax.
“Dean! Oh god, I am...” The warning ended in a shout as his body convulsed and he filled Dean with his seed. Dean continued to move, milking every last sensation from Sam, and then stilled, clamping around Sam like a vice as his own pleasure washed over him. Sam felt the warmth on his stomach and smiled. Dean collapsed over him, panting harshly. Between his own gulping breaths, Sam gasped, “Dean?”
“Yes?” It sounded like that one word had been a tremendous effort.
“I am really sure that I like sex with men, now.”
Dean lifted his head and met Sam’s laughing eyes. His own crinkled slightly as he started chuckling softly. It became full-blown laughter when Sam started snickering too. Sam was happier in that moment than he had ever been in his life.
PART NINE
Sam woke up with Dean still pressed against his side. It was still dark outside and Sam wondered what had woken him. Dean shifted in his sleep, a restless movement, followed by a low murmur. Sam had not caught the barely uttered words, but he knew their tone. Whatever Dean was dreaming, it was not pleasant. He was about to wake the other man when Dean’s eyes shot open. It obviously took Dean a moment to realise where he was, but then his eyes met Sam’s.
“I should go.” Were the surprising words that first came out of Dean’s mouth.
“Why?” Sam asked, truly without a clue. “Are you not comfortable?”
“Too comfortable.” Dean muttered.
Sam smiled then. “Dean, it is normal for lovers to spend the night together. At least, it is when you are not paying for their time.”
“I have never had a lover that did not pay me for the privilege.” Dean looked away.
Sam was struck. He turned Dean back to him. “Truly? Never?” Dean just shook his head, and Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He was the first person Dean had slept with of his own accord. “You never cease to amaze me.”
Dean smiled softly. “Nor you I.”
“Go back to sleep, Dean.” Sam smoothed a hand down the other man’s face, a gentle caress that, this time, could be leant into without fear of the weakness it might show. Dean complied and lay back down beside Sam. Sam hoped that the next time he woke, Dean was exactly where he was now.
***
Sam’s hope was not to be. He was not going to complain about the reality though. As consciousness filtered into Sam’s brain, so did pleasure spread throughout his body. He jerked into full consciousness when a hot, wet mouth closed over his already engorged organ. “Dean!” Sam gasped out.
“Mmmmm?” The hummed query vibrated right through Sam’s cock and then the rest of his body. Sam just moaned, and Dean chuckled. How he did that with his mouth full, Sam was not entirely sure, but neither did he really care. A warm, slick finger pressed gently into his back passage, and Sam frowned at the odd sensation. It was not painful, but neither was it as pleasurable as the mouth sucking at him. Dean, however, started to move the finger, seeming to search for something and...finding it! Dear god! Sam keened at the blinding pleasure. Is that what Dean had been feeling last night?
“Dean...” Sam tried again.
This time Dean pulled back. “Is it too much? Do you wish me to stop?”
“No!” Sam was quick to assure him. “I want...I want you to do to me what I did to you.”
Dean stilled completely, his wide eyes meeting Sam’s. “Milord...”
“Sam.”
“Sam.” Dean tried again, but he was not sure what he wanted to say himself. “Sam, there is no need...”
“I want to know, Dean. If I can do it to you, I should be able to have you do it to me.” Sam gave him a half-cheeky, half-embarrassed grin. “Besides, what you did just now felt...ah, incredible.”
Dean looked him up and down before holding Sam’s gaze with his deadly serious eyes. “Then we shall do as you wish, but you will do everything I say and I will be in control. Do you agree?”
Sam gave a snorting laugh. “As though you were not the one in control last night. You have my oath, Dean, we will do this your way.”
Dean finally smiled. “Very well, then. Lay back and let me show you the way of it.”
Sam did as he was told and was rewarded for his obedience with the return of that slick finger to his passage and the sensitive spot it had found before. AT once, Sam was lost in the twin pleasures of the finger and Dean’s mouth against his arousal. When a second finger joined the first, Sam squirmed at the slight discomfort, but relaxed into it at Dean’s soft encouragement.
Dean swallowed Sam down into his throat as he added a third finger, and the shock of pained was drowned under the flood of pleasure. The fingers continued moving inside him, making him fell filled and stretched, but also that fleeting, blinding ecstasy whenever Dean angled them just right. Finally, Sam felt the climax tingling along his spine. “Dean... I am near...”
The sound Dean made in his throat was like a rumbling purr. Sam got the message, and it was just as well, for he could hold back no more. With a short, sharp cry, he let the sensation overwhelm him and, once again, Dean drank him down. This time, while he lay satiated, Dean pulled back and reached down to take his own organ in his oil-coated hand, making it slick too. The next thing Sam felt was the blunt head of Dean’s cock at his entrance, and then the burning pressure as Dean slowly pushed himself into Sam’s relaxed body. He tensed when the pain began to overwhelm the lassitude, and Dean stilled, panting.
“It is only for a moment.” Dean soothed. “Relax for me, Sammy. Let your body adjust, and then I promise it will feel good.”
Sam did his best to comply, and Dean continued to inch into him. It never became too much, and Sam relaxed further. Dean continued to whisper encouragements and commendations until he was buried as deep in Sam as he could go. He remained there waiting, waiting for the sign that Sam was ready to continue. It came as a sift frown and a puzzled, “Dean?”
Dean smiled. “Yes, Sammy. Now it will feel good, just like I promised.”
The slow, shallow thrusts Dean began with slid over that bundle of nerves inside Sam, and it did feel good, but it was not enough. After a few moments of these teasing glides, Sam tried to make the pressure harder. Dean simply stilled completely. Sam whimpered. “Please...”
There was no verbal reply, nor any change to Dean’s expression, but the next thrust came harder, exactly what Sam had needed. Another thrust, and another, and then Dean changed the angle and plunged once more. Sam arched up, shouting in shocked pleasure. He had never felt anything like this; the fullness, the sharp bursts of pleasure, and the build up towards his climax seeming to start somewhere much deeper within him.
Dean continued the assault without letup, and Sam could barely catch his breath to make the desperate, uncontrollable noises being pulled from him. With a rush that seemed to start in his fingers, his toes, every extremity, his climax ripped through him, emptying him out, and making him scream with the indescribable pleasure.
When Dean filled him with liquid warmth, the soft caress was enough to make Sam shudder one more time. He felt numb, his body heavy and completely wrung out, and his mind drifting hazily through the memories of the last few moments. Dean’s hands were ghosting over him in gentle, soothing caresses. Sam realised that those hands were also shaking, and he managed to capture them in his own. Neither of them said anything, they simply clung to one another, sharing emotions that had no words. Finally, Dean had to move, and Sam winced in discomfort. Dean kissed him regretfully before whispering, “We have time, Sammy. Sleep some more.”
“You called me that before.” Sam smiled with his eyes closed. “I like it, but only when you say it. Is not that strange?”
Whether Dean replied or not, Sam would never know. Sleep took him in its arm embrace, and his last thought was that it felt just like Dean’s.
PART TEN
The rest of the week passed quickly. The household was ablaze with organised chaos as they packed up everything necessary for the move to the country. Dean grumbled about the amount of work such an endeavour engendered, pointing out several times that his one bag had taken less than an hour to pack. Sam smiled and shrugged, and Dean would sigh and roll his eyes.
Before they left, Thomas and Matthew called in to say goodbye. They had heard of Sam’s plans to leave now that the season was ended. When they said they may come and visit, Sam smiled widely and agreed that he would enjoy their company, even as he wished he could tell them to stay away. Dean, who had heard the exchange from another room, had laughed when Sam had complained, telling him that he should be grateful for having such good friends.
The actual trip from London to Winchester Estate passed without incident. Sam spent the whole time fretting about how his father would react to Dean, how he could explain the man’s history, and whether his up-to-this-point open-minded father should be told that Sam had fallen in love with another man. Their arrival, however, proved to be something of an anti-climax.
Hawkins met them at the door, the welcoming smile on his face encompassing them both. As soon as they were inside, he announced, “Your father is not here, milord. He has gone hunting.” Seeing the look on Sam’s face, he added, “Wolves.”
At that, Sam jerked. A whole month had passed since Dean had saved him from the werewolf, and now his father was out doing exactly what Dean had been doing. He saw from the look in Dean’s eyes that he, too, had grasped the full concept of the statement. Dean, however, kept his mouth shut. “Thank you, Hawkins. I will simply settle myself in my rooms. Let me know when Father arrives. Whenever that may be.”
The old man did not have time to answer before another man, middle-aged and dusty, came striding through the front door bellowing, “Hawkins! What is all that fuss out there about? Has my son…” The booming voice stopped dead, and the man’s next word was a whispered, “Dean.”
“You!” Dean gasped in the same instant.
“You are alive.”
“You are real.”
Sam looked between the two men, who kept speaking together. They both looked pale, shaken, and disbelieving. “What is it?” Sam wanted to know.
“Sam, you did it. You found him. How? Where?”
“Who?” Sam asked, exasperated and confused.
“Your brother, of course. Your brother…Dean.”
***
It took all of Hawkins skill to get the three shocked men into the sitting room. In typical Winchester style, instead of being overjoyed at having been reunited, all three of them sat at the edges of the room, watching each other like adversaries. None of them seemed inclined to speak first, so it was Hawkins who set the ball rolling. He went to Dean’s side and, with a supportive hand on his shoulder, asked, “What do you remember, lad? You seemed to recognise your…John.” He corrected himself at the last moment, prompted by the disbelief in Dean’s eyes.
Dean took a deep breath and refused to look at anyone as he answered, “Fire. About the earliest thing I can remember is fire, and a crying baby. Sometimes I get…flashes, things that I might have remembered, often in response to a situation. A few times there were faces…” Dean glanced at John Winchester quickly before looking away. “I thought that maybe I was just creating a fantasy in my mind, things I wished I had…”
“It was the night Mary died.” John sighed. “You were four years old. I put your baby brother in your arms and told you to take him outside, keep him safe. I could not save Mary, and when I came out I found Sam hidden beside the neighbours’ front steps, and you were nowhere to be seen. I was crazy in my grief; mourning for my wife, searching for my son, and with a baby to care for.” John’s anguish still echoed in his eyes. “I could not find you and, after months of running after rumours, I finally could not take the heartbreak any longer. I banned your name in our household, because even the sound of it reminded me of all I had lost.”
“I think…they kept me locked in the basement for quite some time. They must have been hiding me until things died down.” Dean told them softly.
John’s eyes flared with fury. “I will kill them.”
“They are already dead.” Dean’s look of satisfaction matched John’s perfectly, father and son uncannily alike despite their years of separation. It only made Sam all the more aware of how true this unbelievable story was.
“Samuel? Have you nothing to say?” John was confused by his opinionated son’s uncharacteristic silence.
“You have no idea…you do not know…” Sam could not force a full sentence from his mouth. Dean seemed to divine his thoughts.
“Sam...do not...” It was a plea, but one that Sam could not heed. The enormity of the situation was threatening to overwhelm him.
“Are you saying that this does not bother you? Sodomy is one thing, Dean, but incest is not the same thing!” Sam shouted before jerking out of his seat and flinging himself out of the room. Dean shrank into his seat, his eyes darting about, seeking the most expedient exit.
Hawkins, who was exceptionally unruffled by this outburst, gave John a meaningful glance before announcing, “I will follow him and make sure he does himself no harm.”
John nodded and waited for the older man to leave the room. He sat a moment longer, watching his eldest son before sighing. “Listen to me. Your brother has led a somewhat sheltered life. I think you and I are fully aware that there are worse things in this world than sexual misconduct, correct?”
Dean nodded his head and answered warily, “Yes, sir.”
John smiled. “Good. Now, you had best tell me what has happened. From as far back as you remember until now.”
***
Dean felt drained. He did not think he had ever spoken about himself, revealed so much of himself, as he had to the man who was his father. There was something about him, perhaps the patient, quiet way that he listened, that had had Dean sharing every moment of his life that he could remember. The man’s barely leashed fury at Dean’s mistreatment had been oddly comforting too. The last thing his father had said to him before he left the room still echoed in his head.
“You are a Winchester, and true to your birth, there s no doubt about that. We are survivors. We are men who take the excrement thrown at us and turn it to our advantage. We do not fear the dark, and fully embrace the darkness in ourselves. I could not be prouder of you had I raised you myself.” With a small, amused smirk, he added, “Now, go find your brother and bring him around to our way of thinking.”
Right. Because that would be easy. Convince Sam, his brother, that their new relationship need not impact on their current relationship. Sam was not like him. He was not, apparently, like his father either. How could he possibly make Sam see things his way? Dean reached Sam’s door with that question still unanswered. However, never one to step back from a challenge, Dean opened the door and entered the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
***
Hawkins sat down opposite John. “I promise, John, I had no idea that the boy was your son, despite the unusual name.”
John waved his hand dismissively. “Never mind, old friend. There would have been little you could have done differently had you known.”
“He is very much like you.” Hawkins smiled. “I recognised that much from the beginning.” The smile faded. “But he has suffered much in his life. He will never be the kind of son Sam is.”
“Is not one son like Sam enough?” Old bitterness flavoured his tone, memories of too many arguments still close to the surface.
“You love him, regardless.”
“Of course I do. I am his father.” John paused. “Somehow I managed to impress on Dean in four years what a lifetime has not instilled in Sam. The boy is a hunter, just like us.”
“Mmmm. And he knows another hunter when he sees one. He picked up in two days what Sam has never suspected. He came straight out and asked me what I hunted, and why did Sam need protecting.” Hawkins shook his head in wry amusement. “I really should have known he was your son.”
John gave a low laugh. After a moment, he sobered. “It does not bother you that they are...having relations?”
Sighing, Hawkins shook his head. “In light of some of the things we have had to do over the years, I do not believe I have the moral grounds to condemn them. It seems that the apple did not fall far from the tree, in either case. I knew it was only a matter of time. The way they looked at one another...” Hawkins cocked an eyebrow. “And you?”
John snorted. “As you say, I hardly have room to complain, do I? And I do not see how I could condemn incest as worse than sodomy. I am sure our Pastor would tell you that all sin is evil, regardless of its nature.” With another sigh, he added, “But I am not sure that Sam will see it that way, and I am afraid of what such a rejection will do to Dean. The boy has been through so much...” John broke off, his fists clenched in impotent fury. “I do not know how to even begin to ask for his forgiveness.”
“It would not occur to him that he has anything to forgive you for. Despite his life, he is more likely to accept blame than assign it to others. Besides, John, you did all that you could. I remember. We were all so terrified for you. Let it go, and focus on making Dean feel welcome as your son instead.”
“How? How do I make him feel like he has a family after all this time?” John was at a loss.
Hawkins smiled, and it was the smile of a man who was, underneath his exterior appearance, a dangerous man. “Start with what you have in common; the family business. Take him hunting.”
***
“Dean. Get out. Please, I cannot...” Sam did not finish the thought.
Dean shook his head. “Have you forgotten already? I am the older brother. I do not have to listen to you.”
Sam’s head shot up and his mouth dropped open. “Have I forgotten? Have I forgotten? Not at all. That is the problem. I remember full well who you are, and I remember what we have done.”
Nonplussed, Dean simply looked at him. “So you were wiling to commit the sin of sodomy with barely a second thought, but you cannot accept that it was incest? Is he difference truly so marked for you?”
“You think they are the same?” Sam was incredulous.
“A sin is a sin. You are merely splitting hairs.”
“At what point did you lose all sense of morality?” Sam hissed.
Dean’s eyes went wide with shock and hurt, but his voice was mild when he replied, “Probably about the time I was choking on some stranger’s cock in my throat. Or maybe it was while I lay bleeding after I was ‘hired’ for the first time.”
Sam was immediately contrite, tears clogging his throat. “I am sorry. That was a stupid, cruel thing to say.”
“No. I am sorry. You are not like me. I just thought...” Dean took a breath and looked away. “I thought you loved me. I thought that the words I stopped you from saying were ‘I love you’. It seems I was right to stop you. At least now you have no need to take them back.”
Sam was up and across the room in a heartbeat, his hands gripping Dean’s shoulders tightly. “Do not say that. Please, do not say that. I meant every word I said, and those that I could not, with all my heart.”
Dean looked up, and his eyes were full of pain and anger. “Is your heart so fickle, then? Has what you felt changed so much that you can cast me away?”
“No.” Sam whispered. It was the truth, a truth he could not reconcile himself to.
The glint in Dean’s eyes was triumphant. He stepped into Sam’s space and pressed himself against as much of Sam as he could. He murmured, “And does this feel less pleasurable now?”
Sam hung his head. “No.”
“And this?” Dean’s voice was barely there, lost in anticipation, as he captured Sam’s mouth in a gentle kiss, a kiss that Dean poured his heart into. When he pulled back, Sam shuddered. “Does this feel wrong to you?”
Sam tore himself away and cried, “No! Are you satisfied? No! It does not feel bad, or wrong. It still feels like the most perfect thing in my life.” Dean smiled, happy, but was immediately crushed when Sam went on, “But I cannot do this! Please, Dean, do not ask it of me.”
“I would never treat you as I have been treated. I would never force you into anything you did not wish.” Dean said harshly. “I told you to be sure. I told you...” He cut himself off as his voice broke. Whirling around, he left the room, left Sam.
Sam buried his face in his hands and wept. He had made Dean do the one thing Sam had never seen him do. As Dean had spun away, Sam had seen the tears escape those glittering green eyes. Dean, who had been hurt all of his life, had finally broken, and it was Sam’s fault.