FIC: A Priori, part 2
Title: A Priori, part 2
Author: memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 17,672 overall, 4,165 this part
Part 1||Part 2|| Part 3|| Epilogue & Notes
Dean's visits are more frequent. From every month, to every couple of weeks, then to weekly visits. Dean becomes a regular fixture at the monastery, and he and David are constant companions. He goes on drives into town with him, helps him with the grocery shopping. They make each other laugh and Dean even makes him go to a bar one night. David can't remember the last time he had a beer that nice.
When Dean isn't off on a job of his own, he's just, there. David likes that he's so used to Dean's presence. That it's become familiar and comfortable.
It makes it easier to push forward.
David lost Dean's conversation about two minutes in as they walk through the corridor. He really was trying to concentrate, but his mind blanks and all he can do is watch Dean's mouth move. He's puzzled to how they got on the topic of honeybees but he loses it again in Dean's eyes, and then suddenly he's talking about pancakes and David is-
David is leaning forward and kissing Dean; tasting maple syrup on his breath and realizing Dean was talking about what he had for breakfast.
Dean spazzes out like David never anticipated he could, stuttering and shaking and David just squeezes Dean's hand and tells him he's been waiting forever to do that. David leans closer and Dean backs himself into a wall. David kisses him again and again, light little touches across his mouth and Dean's heart is beating so fast he can hear it.
Dean eventually wriggles himself out of David's grasp and sputters some more. "I-I-I'm gonna go, out-outside, now. Just wait right here, I…" Dean shakes his head and points to David and says sternly. "Don't move. I'll be back and- Don't. Move."
David waits in the spot Dean told him to for a good ten minutes and then he gets restless. He sticks his head out the window, and spies Dean pacing on the ground below.
He's walking back and forth, having some kind of intense conversation with himself, there's so much arm waving and gesturing and head grabbing. David worries he's done something terrible to Dean, to leave him in such a panic.
Then Dean starts up this strange little ritual; where he gets very close to coming back inside, but then turns around and paces some more. Comes close to the door again, shakes his head no and walks back. He start-stops so many times that David gets dizzy. Dean's obviously not coming back inside anytime soon so he goes to his room and opens up a good book.
Dean finally shows up at dinner where he announces he's leaving, a job in South Dakota has come in for him.
David pouts but walks him to his car like always. It's a bit chilly, so he crosses his arms and tries not to let Dean see his teeth chatter.
"Hey, did I-? I didn't mean to fuck things up back there, Dean. I'm sorry." He puts his hand on Dean's shoulder but then quickly pulls it away.
"No you," Dean sighs. "You didn't fuck up David, we're okay. Forget about it."
David presses his lips together but it's not enough to keep him silent. "I don't want to."
Dean furrows his brow but lets David speak.
"I want more then us being 'okay'. I've been thinking-" His eyes roam and he stares out at the land, "You and Father Anthony are always telling me to take the time and figure out my life, find what makes me happy. You make me happy, Dean." David focuses on him, "You're the only one who makes me feel like this, and I can't-" David takes a deep breath.
"Next time I see you, I'm gonna want to kiss you again. I need to know that's okay. That you're going to kiss me back and that you'll let me try to make you happy too. Just tell me there's any chance of this. That you could feel the same way for me. Please."
"David…" Dean ducks his head, "I don't come here for the food and the rest. I can get that anywhere. I come here to see you. Can't that be enough?"
"Not anymore."
Dean swallows, "It's not that easy- I'm always going to be… I'm never going to feel exactly the same way you do and- God I just want you to be happy! And now you're telling me… this. It's just a lot for me to take in right now, okay?"
"So, there's no chance-?" David trails off.
Dean doesn't answer, he just gets in his car and pulls away.
***
Two days later Dean is most certainly not in South Dakota. He's sitting in the pews when David gets back from running his chores in town. Dean stands and his bad leg trembles.
"Hi, Dean." David says, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.
Dean doesn't say anything, and that's fine because he's an amazing kisser. David's head swims and his body is rocked with little electric thrills all up and down and he presses his fingers into Dean's arms. The leather of his jacket is worn and gives just enough under the pressure of his hands.
Dean pulls back and pants a bit, "This is crazy. I should just leave you alone-"
"Don't you dare," David interrupts and buries his nose in Dean's hair. He nuzzles him and knows he loves him already. Dean fits right into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and whispers.
"Don't tell anyone, okay?"
***
It starts out slowly, there's no dating or anything, not like David thought that would happen. It's all physical, touching and kissing and blood rushing to the head moments.
They're making out in the basement, surrounded by giant vats of wine and scripture. David pulls back and holds Dean's face away from his.
"I was going to ask you to tell me if you knew me before the accident."
Dean starts to protest and fidget, but David shushes him and continues.
"I was going to ask, but I don't care anymore. I've been thinking a lot about myself. How if there was anything worth remembering, anything important, you'd tell me. So maybe it's better that I don't remember, that I start things over…"
Dean looks down at his shoes.
"I-I did something bad, didn't I? Something horrible that I don't need to know?"
Dean nods.
"It's okay Dean, I-" Dean pulls him close, wrapping arms around him and David can feel his face turning red. He rubs the water out of his eyes and laughs in spite of it. "I'm over it, really. I have a better life, I have a second chance, right? That's what everybody wants. And I have you."
David tugs at Dean's hands until he meets his gaze again. "But I have to ask, did you always feel this way about me, Dean? Even when I was… Whoever I used to be?"
Dean can't answer, he squeezes his face like it's in pain and David just says "Nevermind," and buries himself in Dean's chest.
"No, it's- The way you are now. That's who I, y'know." Dean is furrowing his brows so tight and his eyes are straining. "You know what I mean, right?"
"Yeah, I do." David smiles.
***
Dean leaves for a job on a Sunday. On Monday, David drives down to the local community college. He fills out mounds and mounds of paperwork, takes placement tests and meets with an advisor.
The fact is, he doesn't have a G.E.D. or high school degree on file, but they try to work around him. A week later when all his tests come back with ridiculously high scores, he qualifies for enough academic scholarships that's it's pretty much a free ride.
Father Anthony is beaming and Father Priam is as close to being excited as he can be. David signs up for courses on law, ethics, and theology. He grabs a pamphlet on paralegal certificates and tucks it in his bag.
When Dean shows up on Thursday, he's ecstatic to hear what David did.
"Whatever you wanna do this weekend man, the world's your oyster."
David doesn't even need to hesitate, he knows what he wants. "I want to go see a movie with you. And have dinner. And it's a date. Like, a real date. Also, you have to hold my hand in public."
Dean's face is absolutely priceless.
***
Katonah on a Friday night is full of people buzzing around. David insists they go out on a traditional date night.
The town is pretty small but it's not that small-minded. There's an unspoken "live and let live" rule; so when David grabs Dean's hand in the line for tickets, no one stirs, really. David thinks Dean is so jittery because he's from Kansas. He must have been raised with different values there.
David squeezes his hand and mouths "It's okay," when Dean looks at him.
They get their tickets and go inside. Dean buys an armful of snacks, popcorn and candies and he's stuffing his face before they even sit down.
"You're gonna run out before the previews," David says as he sips his soda.
Dean catches a gummy bear in his mouth and smiles. "That's assuming I actually want to see the previews."
Dean goes back to his candy and David puzzles to himself. When the theater goes dark and the screen lights up, Dean's hands are everywhere.
David gets what he meant then, Dean plans on a traditional movie-date. Which means ignoring the movie in favor of as much making out, and as much fooling around as possible without breaking any public indecency laws (or at least not getting caught). David can go with that.
Dean is sugary sweet, and a little sticky from all the red vines, but David doesn't mind that much. There's the sounds of car explosions and gasps and pathetic dialogue of the action movie all around them. They must be close to a speaker because David's heart is fluttering with each pulsing noise. Or it could just be because Dean has his hands locked on the nape of his neck, and the cold metal of his ring is tickling his skin.
Dean pulls back and looks at the screen, David reels for a bit and opens his eyes. The light from the screen stings, his sight is pretty much fucked in the dark. He concentrates on the other senses, the feel of Dean's hands. The smell on his neck that he leans in to inhale.
Dean hisses and taps him, "Wait, wait I wanna see…"
There's a gunshot fired and a woman screams.
"Ha! I knew the Czech was a spy." Dean whispers.
"You, you've actually been following the movie?" David balks.
"Yeah, you haven't?"
"I've been kinda distracted!" David says a little too loud and somebody shushes him. Dean glares in their direction, or David assumes he does. He really can't see.
"Well, not all of us can have my masterful powers of observation."
David rolls his eyes.
"I'm like Sherlock Holmes without the stupid hat."
David laughs and the guy shushes him extra hard and Dean turns in his direction. He mutters something nasty about his lack of a companion on a Friday night, and flips him off.
"C'mon Watson, let's get back to it."
"Right-o, Holmes."
Dean maybe exaggerates his observational skills, but his investigative technique is impeccable. He discovers no less then three places on David's body that when kissed properly, make him see stars.
***
"So, I have a question for you."
"Shoot," David says as he pulls the Impala out of the parking lot. It's such a nice day for a drive and he'd finally convinced Dean to let him take his car for another spin.
"Did you wake up knowing how to drive, or did someone teach you? By this, I'm assuming you hired a little old lady to teach you."
David groans and taps the accelerator a bit, "Being pulled over for speeding isn't fun, Dean."
"And this little old lady, let's call her 'Agatha' for argument's sake. Did Agatha give you ribbon candy when you learned how to parallel park?"
"No one taught me, I just knew it already."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean I knew some things when I woke up. Basic stuff. Driving was one of them."
"What else?"
David considers for a moment. His head was jumbled that first day but it was just personal memories that had vanished, family and friends and faces were wiped clean. All that was left were menial tasks like driving, tying his shoes, firing a gun…
"I could tie my shoes, load and fire a shotgun, and make pasta sauce."
"Wow. Really!?"
David drums his fingers on the steering wheel, "I know it's kind of eerie-"
"You can cook? Dude, you have to show me."
"Oh-kay?"
"Seriously though, no joke, you're gonna cook for me?"
"Uh, yeah. I've cooked since. Just not specifically for you."
"Well, then what the hell David? Do I have to put on robes and take vows before you put out?"
David sputters and swerves on the road. Dean makes him pull over and drives the rest of the way to the store.
David buys ingredients and makes a magnificent lasagna that night. Dean eats about half of it before David makes him stop. His stomach is some kind of bottomless pit, but David doesn't want to push it.
"Who knew you were such a foodie, Dean?" David says while Dean runs his middle and index fingers along his plate, scraping up every last drop of sauce.
"My compliments to the chef." He says in between licks of his fingers.
***
The garden is David's favorite reading spot. He likes to sit on the stone bench right by the dahlias and lose himself in a good book. Today, it's studying St. Augustine for his ethics final.
He doesn't quite understand how Dean does it, but suddenly he has his head in David's lap and he's sprawled on his back on the bench. His cheeks are flushed red.
David peers over his book with an amused look on his face.
"Can I help you?"
"God, I have such a headache."
"Uhh, Dean I thought you didn't want us to do anything here? You said Father Priam would-"
"Father Priam can kiss my ass. I have rights too, y'know? You're not a monk, Davey."
"Dean?"
"There are things I'm allowed to do!" Dean protests, his arms waving in the air.
"You're drunk."
"Nope, I'm a taster. A test-taster, um, wait. Tasty, test, tester. I test things. Wine." Dean closes his eyes a moment and then opens them with a funny smile. "Father Tony let me taste-test the wine."
David sighs, "You're not supposed to actually swallow it, Dean."
"You have the best eyes ever."
David can't help but smile back, Dean's got this dreamy look in his eyes and he rubs a hand on David's cheek. He can smell the heady scent of Father Anthony's latest batch.
"Beautiful eyes."
David puts St. Augustine down and concentrates on rubbing Dean's belly.
***
David struggles with his eyes, now and then.
He never fully grasped how bad a loss of depth perception could be until the 50th time he reaches for the table salt and misses, drawing back a handful of air.
He reaches to switch off a standing lamp and knocks it down, smashing a light bulb on the ground and nearly starting an electrical fire. He jams his fingers when reaching for doorknobs that are closer then he realizes.
Sometimes he crashes into Dean when all he wanted to do was just kiss him lightly. But he smashes his face into his cheek, hard. His nose digs into Dean's skin, and it's all unintentionally painful and horribly unsexy.
Dean just rubs his face and threatens to bite him in public.
It takes practice, but David gets better. He teaches himself to overshoot when he reaches for things at the dinner table, or to use the back of his hand to feel out the distance when reaching for doorknobs and light switches. He teaches himself to move slowly and gracefully, and not be so awkward and gangly in his movements.
He's even figured out the exact distance he needs to reach to mess with Dean while he's driving. It's a shorter distance to pinch his arm, then it is to run his thumb along the shell of Dean's ear. Much better results from the latter. Dean gets so flustered that he pulls over, and they fool around on the side of the road.
***
When David gets a look at Dean's bad leg for the first time, he gets little shudders. There's so much scar tissue around the slice that's vivisected from his calf; it's lumpy and the skin is a blueish gray. They're in Dean's room lying on his bed, just boxers and t-shirts because Dean only got in about 20 minutes ago and is so tired that he can't move.
"Does it tingle when it rains?"
Dean smiles, "Yeah, and it plays Jingle Bells when it snows."
"Cool," David bites his lip and places a hand on Dean's chest, right above his heart. "So how'd you, y'know? What happened?"
"Mmmn," Dean mumbles. "Got in a fight with a wood-chipper."
"Ha-ha."
"Seriously,"
"Dean," David rolls his eyes, "Work-related hazard, right? You were helping someone?"
"Yeah..." Dean answers in a small voice. "Kinda- it's not important. You don't need to know."
"Maybe I want to know." David curls his body around Dean's, "My boyfriend, the big bad hero."
"You have got to stop calling me that."
"Which? Boyfriend or hero?"
"Both! It's embarrassing."
"But you are," David pauses. "Both."
Dean pretends to be asleep.
***
"I'm not a monk, Dean."
"I know that, I just wanted to make sure you're sure."
David rolls his eyes. "Dean I haven't had sex since, well ever, because I literally cannot remember the last time. I'm ready. The question is, are you?"
"Well,"
"Do you want to have sex with me?"
"Uh, yeah. But-"
"But what?"
Dean purses his lips and lets out a sigh. "Okay, there is no 'but'. There is no reason you and I as two consenting adults should not be having sex right now."
David tilts his head to the side and gives him a look. "Yep."
"Alright then, let's go." Dean turns and heads towards David's bed, shrugging off his jacket.
"W-wait, here? You want to do it here? We can't, I can't have sex here."
"This is your room isn't it?"
"Yeah but, there are Saints here."
Dean crooks an eyebrow.
"On the walls. Watching me. Judging me. I can't have sex while they're watching."
Dean sputters, "You're kidding, right?"
David shakes his head and tugs on his ear, nervously.
"Wait, then where do you, y'know?" Dean makes a fist and shakes it. He's got a lewd little grin on his face that David really wants to smack right off.
"In the shower."
"Well, okay then, let's go take a shower."
"Can't,"
"Why not?"
"I'm quiet, people can't hear me in the shower. I don't think you're going to be able to control your volume."
Dean scoffs, "Okay first of all, you're nuts."
"Yeah, well I'm banged up in the head, and I haven't had sex in over a year, so forgive me."
"Second of all, what the hell does that mean?"
"You're a screamer. I've heard you, in the shower. From my room, mind you."
"Fine! So there's nowhere on the premises we can have sex, how do you suggest we-"
"Backseat of the Impala. Go clean it up."
Dean scowls, "We're not having sex in my car."
"Yeah we are."
"No, we're not."
"Dean, where else can we-"
"Not. In. My. Car. Think of something else."
"Well, what should we do? Drive to some cheap motel?"
***
The clerk at the desk sizes them up. "King or two queens?"
"King. Lots of extra towels and all the free pillow mints you can spare." Dean says, leering at her. David rolls his eyes. Okay, it's better then the Impala but at least he wouldn't have to deal with Dean's special brand of people skills.
She rolls her eyes too and hands over the keys. "Room 109, on your right. Checkout is before 10 am."
David grabs the keys and mutters a thank you.
The room is simple, plain sheets and decorations. Dean's sitting on the bed, unlacing his boots while David stands by the doorway, fixated on the wall.
"Looks familiar," he murmurs.
Dean stiffens his shoulders, "Oh, yeah?"
David nods and points at the painting of a sailboat on the wall by the bathroom. "Totally. I've seen that exact painting in Stan's Coffee Shop."
Dean lets out a sigh and crooks his finger at David, "C'mere." He's got his shoes off, and is leaning back on the bedspread.
David sits next to him, Dean grabs David's face with one hand. "You're really sure-"
David cuts him off with a kiss, pushing him down on the mattress, sitting on his hips.
"What do you think?"
"I think the Saints are far, far away from here."
"I think I want to make you scream."
The kissing is fierce, harder then he's felt Dean be with him. David likes it though, the kid gloves are gone. There are definitely too many clothes in the way and off they come, Dean's hands are fast. Of course that's when David leans back on his haunches and Dean hisses in pain.
"Shit!" He grabs his leg, kicking David off of him.
"Oh god, I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry, Dean are you okay?" Dean waves off David's concerns with a slight wave of his hand.
"It's fine, fine! I just need… Not so much weight on it, y'know?"
"Yeah," David wrings his hands. "Sorry."
"It's okay, really. Just, let me-" Dean pushes lightly on David's chest until he settles back down next to him.
They lie, face-to-face, just breathing for a moment. "Just gotta work around it." Dean says.
"Can I try?" David puts his hand just below Dean's navel, and Dean nods.
Dean has the most incredible hipbones. David's hands can almost just lie flat on them, his fingers are too long and reach over the edges. David holds Dean down with them, carefully avoiding putting any weight on his legs, and leans in to taste his skin.
It's far from perfect, really. A mass of scars and cuts and his muscles are always sore. David kisses every scar he can see in the dim light. Dean makes it even harder when he switches the lights out.
"Dean, I'm pretty much blind in the dark."
"Yeah, I know."
"That's not playing fair."
"'S more fun though."
Maybe it is, but that's neither here nor there in the end. Because it's all just a tease until the moment David gets his mouth around Dean's cock.
It's funny, David can put another item on the ever-growing list of things he intrinsically knows how to do. Tying his shoes, firing a shotgun, making pasta sauce and giving blowjobs.
From the sounds Dean makes, he's pretty damn good at it too. He loses himself in feelings and sounds and smells. When Dean comes and he swallows, he tries to get a good look at his face, but can just about make out a silhouette.
That shadow turns out to be the bedside lamp because Dean is behind him, arms circling his waist and mouth on his neck, kissing a trail to his shoulder. He bites down and David jerks up, Dean's arms tighten around his waist. "I want to fuck you." He whispers in his ear.
David nods. Dean really doesn't need permission, so long as he keeps his mouth right where it is.
When Dean is inside him, his fingers criss-cross each other, holding his stomach as if it might burst open and spill out. David is panting and gasping, and Dean is loud. His whispers are gone and replaced with shouts, praise for David and his sweetness. How hot and tight he is, how deep Dean can go. How fucking perfect.
David just curves his neck more, offers Dean a place to latch his mouth onto, and he takes the hint. Wet kisses along the trail of his neck, leaving behind gooseflesh and happy hums from David.
They grow into insistent moans and David comes when Dean bites his shoulder again.
Dean finishes minutes later; they fall into spooning and forgo showers for the morning. It's sticky and the smell of sweat and testosterone lingers in the air.
David dreams that night. Dean is in a simple white and orange kitchen, sitting on a countertop. He's never seen it before, but it's not at all unfamiliar. Dean looks happier there then David has ever seen him.
***
Next part
Author: memphis86
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 17,672 overall, 4,165 this part
Part 1||Part 2|| Part 3|| Epilogue & Notes
Dean's visits are more frequent. From every month, to every couple of weeks, then to weekly visits. Dean becomes a regular fixture at the monastery, and he and David are constant companions. He goes on drives into town with him, helps him with the grocery shopping. They make each other laugh and Dean even makes him go to a bar one night. David can't remember the last time he had a beer that nice.
When Dean isn't off on a job of his own, he's just, there. David likes that he's so used to Dean's presence. That it's become familiar and comfortable.
It makes it easier to push forward.
David lost Dean's conversation about two minutes in as they walk through the corridor. He really was trying to concentrate, but his mind blanks and all he can do is watch Dean's mouth move. He's puzzled to how they got on the topic of honeybees but he loses it again in Dean's eyes, and then suddenly he's talking about pancakes and David is-
David is leaning forward and kissing Dean; tasting maple syrup on his breath and realizing Dean was talking about what he had for breakfast.
Dean spazzes out like David never anticipated he could, stuttering and shaking and David just squeezes Dean's hand and tells him he's been waiting forever to do that. David leans closer and Dean backs himself into a wall. David kisses him again and again, light little touches across his mouth and Dean's heart is beating so fast he can hear it.
Dean eventually wriggles himself out of David's grasp and sputters some more. "I-I-I'm gonna go, out-outside, now. Just wait right here, I…" Dean shakes his head and points to David and says sternly. "Don't move. I'll be back and- Don't. Move."
David waits in the spot Dean told him to for a good ten minutes and then he gets restless. He sticks his head out the window, and spies Dean pacing on the ground below.
He's walking back and forth, having some kind of intense conversation with himself, there's so much arm waving and gesturing and head grabbing. David worries he's done something terrible to Dean, to leave him in such a panic.
Then Dean starts up this strange little ritual; where he gets very close to coming back inside, but then turns around and paces some more. Comes close to the door again, shakes his head no and walks back. He start-stops so many times that David gets dizzy. Dean's obviously not coming back inside anytime soon so he goes to his room and opens up a good book.
Dean finally shows up at dinner where he announces he's leaving, a job in South Dakota has come in for him.
David pouts but walks him to his car like always. It's a bit chilly, so he crosses his arms and tries not to let Dean see his teeth chatter.
"Hey, did I-? I didn't mean to fuck things up back there, Dean. I'm sorry." He puts his hand on Dean's shoulder but then quickly pulls it away.
"No you," Dean sighs. "You didn't fuck up David, we're okay. Forget about it."
David presses his lips together but it's not enough to keep him silent. "I don't want to."
Dean furrows his brow but lets David speak.
"I want more then us being 'okay'. I've been thinking-" His eyes roam and he stares out at the land, "You and Father Anthony are always telling me to take the time and figure out my life, find what makes me happy. You make me happy, Dean." David focuses on him, "You're the only one who makes me feel like this, and I can't-" David takes a deep breath.
"Next time I see you, I'm gonna want to kiss you again. I need to know that's okay. That you're going to kiss me back and that you'll let me try to make you happy too. Just tell me there's any chance of this. That you could feel the same way for me. Please."
"David…" Dean ducks his head, "I don't come here for the food and the rest. I can get that anywhere. I come here to see you. Can't that be enough?"
"Not anymore."
Dean swallows, "It's not that easy- I'm always going to be… I'm never going to feel exactly the same way you do and- God I just want you to be happy! And now you're telling me… this. It's just a lot for me to take in right now, okay?"
"So, there's no chance-?" David trails off.
Dean doesn't answer, he just gets in his car and pulls away.
***
Two days later Dean is most certainly not in South Dakota. He's sitting in the pews when David gets back from running his chores in town. Dean stands and his bad leg trembles.
"Hi, Dean." David says, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.
Dean doesn't say anything, and that's fine because he's an amazing kisser. David's head swims and his body is rocked with little electric thrills all up and down and he presses his fingers into Dean's arms. The leather of his jacket is worn and gives just enough under the pressure of his hands.
Dean pulls back and pants a bit, "This is crazy. I should just leave you alone-"
"Don't you dare," David interrupts and buries his nose in Dean's hair. He nuzzles him and knows he loves him already. Dean fits right into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and whispers.
"Don't tell anyone, okay?"
***
It starts out slowly, there's no dating or anything, not like David thought that would happen. It's all physical, touching and kissing and blood rushing to the head moments.
They're making out in the basement, surrounded by giant vats of wine and scripture. David pulls back and holds Dean's face away from his.
"I was going to ask you to tell me if you knew me before the accident."
Dean starts to protest and fidget, but David shushes him and continues.
"I was going to ask, but I don't care anymore. I've been thinking a lot about myself. How if there was anything worth remembering, anything important, you'd tell me. So maybe it's better that I don't remember, that I start things over…"
Dean looks down at his shoes.
"I-I did something bad, didn't I? Something horrible that I don't need to know?"
Dean nods.
"It's okay Dean, I-" Dean pulls him close, wrapping arms around him and David can feel his face turning red. He rubs the water out of his eyes and laughs in spite of it. "I'm over it, really. I have a better life, I have a second chance, right? That's what everybody wants. And I have you."
David tugs at Dean's hands until he meets his gaze again. "But I have to ask, did you always feel this way about me, Dean? Even when I was… Whoever I used to be?"
Dean can't answer, he squeezes his face like it's in pain and David just says "Nevermind," and buries himself in Dean's chest.
"No, it's- The way you are now. That's who I, y'know." Dean is furrowing his brows so tight and his eyes are straining. "You know what I mean, right?"
"Yeah, I do." David smiles.
***
Dean leaves for a job on a Sunday. On Monday, David drives down to the local community college. He fills out mounds and mounds of paperwork, takes placement tests and meets with an advisor.
The fact is, he doesn't have a G.E.D. or high school degree on file, but they try to work around him. A week later when all his tests come back with ridiculously high scores, he qualifies for enough academic scholarships that's it's pretty much a free ride.
Father Anthony is beaming and Father Priam is as close to being excited as he can be. David signs up for courses on law, ethics, and theology. He grabs a pamphlet on paralegal certificates and tucks it in his bag.
When Dean shows up on Thursday, he's ecstatic to hear what David did.
"Whatever you wanna do this weekend man, the world's your oyster."
David doesn't even need to hesitate, he knows what he wants. "I want to go see a movie with you. And have dinner. And it's a date. Like, a real date. Also, you have to hold my hand in public."
Dean's face is absolutely priceless.
***
Katonah on a Friday night is full of people buzzing around. David insists they go out on a traditional date night.
The town is pretty small but it's not that small-minded. There's an unspoken "live and let live" rule; so when David grabs Dean's hand in the line for tickets, no one stirs, really. David thinks Dean is so jittery because he's from Kansas. He must have been raised with different values there.
David squeezes his hand and mouths "It's okay," when Dean looks at him.
They get their tickets and go inside. Dean buys an armful of snacks, popcorn and candies and he's stuffing his face before they even sit down.
"You're gonna run out before the previews," David says as he sips his soda.
Dean catches a gummy bear in his mouth and smiles. "That's assuming I actually want to see the previews."
Dean goes back to his candy and David puzzles to himself. When the theater goes dark and the screen lights up, Dean's hands are everywhere.
David gets what he meant then, Dean plans on a traditional movie-date. Which means ignoring the movie in favor of as much making out, and as much fooling around as possible without breaking any public indecency laws (or at least not getting caught). David can go with that.
Dean is sugary sweet, and a little sticky from all the red vines, but David doesn't mind that much. There's the sounds of car explosions and gasps and pathetic dialogue of the action movie all around them. They must be close to a speaker because David's heart is fluttering with each pulsing noise. Or it could just be because Dean has his hands locked on the nape of his neck, and the cold metal of his ring is tickling his skin.
Dean pulls back and looks at the screen, David reels for a bit and opens his eyes. The light from the screen stings, his sight is pretty much fucked in the dark. He concentrates on the other senses, the feel of Dean's hands. The smell on his neck that he leans in to inhale.
Dean hisses and taps him, "Wait, wait I wanna see…"
There's a gunshot fired and a woman screams.
"Ha! I knew the Czech was a spy." Dean whispers.
"You, you've actually been following the movie?" David balks.
"Yeah, you haven't?"
"I've been kinda distracted!" David says a little too loud and somebody shushes him. Dean glares in their direction, or David assumes he does. He really can't see.
"Well, not all of us can have my masterful powers of observation."
David rolls his eyes.
"I'm like Sherlock Holmes without the stupid hat."
David laughs and the guy shushes him extra hard and Dean turns in his direction. He mutters something nasty about his lack of a companion on a Friday night, and flips him off.
"C'mon Watson, let's get back to it."
"Right-o, Holmes."
Dean maybe exaggerates his observational skills, but his investigative technique is impeccable. He discovers no less then three places on David's body that when kissed properly, make him see stars.
***
"So, I have a question for you."
"Shoot," David says as he pulls the Impala out of the parking lot. It's such a nice day for a drive and he'd finally convinced Dean to let him take his car for another spin.
"Did you wake up knowing how to drive, or did someone teach you? By this, I'm assuming you hired a little old lady to teach you."
David groans and taps the accelerator a bit, "Being pulled over for speeding isn't fun, Dean."
"And this little old lady, let's call her 'Agatha' for argument's sake. Did Agatha give you ribbon candy when you learned how to parallel park?"
"No one taught me, I just knew it already."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean I knew some things when I woke up. Basic stuff. Driving was one of them."
"What else?"
David considers for a moment. His head was jumbled that first day but it was just personal memories that had vanished, family and friends and faces were wiped clean. All that was left were menial tasks like driving, tying his shoes, firing a gun…
"I could tie my shoes, load and fire a shotgun, and make pasta sauce."
"Wow. Really!?"
David drums his fingers on the steering wheel, "I know it's kind of eerie-"
"You can cook? Dude, you have to show me."
"Oh-kay?"
"Seriously though, no joke, you're gonna cook for me?"
"Uh, yeah. I've cooked since. Just not specifically for you."
"Well, then what the hell David? Do I have to put on robes and take vows before you put out?"
David sputters and swerves on the road. Dean makes him pull over and drives the rest of the way to the store.
David buys ingredients and makes a magnificent lasagna that night. Dean eats about half of it before David makes him stop. His stomach is some kind of bottomless pit, but David doesn't want to push it.
"Who knew you were such a foodie, Dean?" David says while Dean runs his middle and index fingers along his plate, scraping up every last drop of sauce.
"My compliments to the chef." He says in between licks of his fingers.
***
The garden is David's favorite reading spot. He likes to sit on the stone bench right by the dahlias and lose himself in a good book. Today, it's studying St. Augustine for his ethics final.
He doesn't quite understand how Dean does it, but suddenly he has his head in David's lap and he's sprawled on his back on the bench. His cheeks are flushed red.
David peers over his book with an amused look on his face.
"Can I help you?"
"God, I have such a headache."
"Uhh, Dean I thought you didn't want us to do anything here? You said Father Priam would-"
"Father Priam can kiss my ass. I have rights too, y'know? You're not a monk, Davey."
"Dean?"
"There are things I'm allowed to do!" Dean protests, his arms waving in the air.
"You're drunk."
"Nope, I'm a taster. A test-taster, um, wait. Tasty, test, tester. I test things. Wine." Dean closes his eyes a moment and then opens them with a funny smile. "Father Tony let me taste-test the wine."
David sighs, "You're not supposed to actually swallow it, Dean."
"You have the best eyes ever."
David can't help but smile back, Dean's got this dreamy look in his eyes and he rubs a hand on David's cheek. He can smell the heady scent of Father Anthony's latest batch.
"Beautiful eyes."
David puts St. Augustine down and concentrates on rubbing Dean's belly.
***
David struggles with his eyes, now and then.
He never fully grasped how bad a loss of depth perception could be until the 50th time he reaches for the table salt and misses, drawing back a handful of air.
He reaches to switch off a standing lamp and knocks it down, smashing a light bulb on the ground and nearly starting an electrical fire. He jams his fingers when reaching for doorknobs that are closer then he realizes.
Sometimes he crashes into Dean when all he wanted to do was just kiss him lightly. But he smashes his face into his cheek, hard. His nose digs into Dean's skin, and it's all unintentionally painful and horribly unsexy.
Dean just rubs his face and threatens to bite him in public.
It takes practice, but David gets better. He teaches himself to overshoot when he reaches for things at the dinner table, or to use the back of his hand to feel out the distance when reaching for doorknobs and light switches. He teaches himself to move slowly and gracefully, and not be so awkward and gangly in his movements.
He's even figured out the exact distance he needs to reach to mess with Dean while he's driving. It's a shorter distance to pinch his arm, then it is to run his thumb along the shell of Dean's ear. Much better results from the latter. Dean gets so flustered that he pulls over, and they fool around on the side of the road.
***
When David gets a look at Dean's bad leg for the first time, he gets little shudders. There's so much scar tissue around the slice that's vivisected from his calf; it's lumpy and the skin is a blueish gray. They're in Dean's room lying on his bed, just boxers and t-shirts because Dean only got in about 20 minutes ago and is so tired that he can't move.
"Does it tingle when it rains?"
Dean smiles, "Yeah, and it plays Jingle Bells when it snows."
"Cool," David bites his lip and places a hand on Dean's chest, right above his heart. "So how'd you, y'know? What happened?"
"Mmmn," Dean mumbles. "Got in a fight with a wood-chipper."
"Ha-ha."
"Seriously,"
"Dean," David rolls his eyes, "Work-related hazard, right? You were helping someone?"
"Yeah..." Dean answers in a small voice. "Kinda- it's not important. You don't need to know."
"Maybe I want to know." David curls his body around Dean's, "My boyfriend, the big bad hero."
"You have got to stop calling me that."
"Which? Boyfriend or hero?"
"Both! It's embarrassing."
"But you are," David pauses. "Both."
Dean pretends to be asleep.
***
"I'm not a monk, Dean."
"I know that, I just wanted to make sure you're sure."
David rolls his eyes. "Dean I haven't had sex since, well ever, because I literally cannot remember the last time. I'm ready. The question is, are you?"
"Well,"
"Do you want to have sex with me?"
"Uh, yeah. But-"
"But what?"
Dean purses his lips and lets out a sigh. "Okay, there is no 'but'. There is no reason you and I as two consenting adults should not be having sex right now."
David tilts his head to the side and gives him a look. "Yep."
"Alright then, let's go." Dean turns and heads towards David's bed, shrugging off his jacket.
"W-wait, here? You want to do it here? We can't, I can't have sex here."
"This is your room isn't it?"
"Yeah but, there are Saints here."
Dean crooks an eyebrow.
"On the walls. Watching me. Judging me. I can't have sex while they're watching."
Dean sputters, "You're kidding, right?"
David shakes his head and tugs on his ear, nervously.
"Wait, then where do you, y'know?" Dean makes a fist and shakes it. He's got a lewd little grin on his face that David really wants to smack right off.
"In the shower."
"Well, okay then, let's go take a shower."
"Can't,"
"Why not?"
"I'm quiet, people can't hear me in the shower. I don't think you're going to be able to control your volume."
Dean scoffs, "Okay first of all, you're nuts."
"Yeah, well I'm banged up in the head, and I haven't had sex in over a year, so forgive me."
"Second of all, what the hell does that mean?"
"You're a screamer. I've heard you, in the shower. From my room, mind you."
"Fine! So there's nowhere on the premises we can have sex, how do you suggest we-"
"Backseat of the Impala. Go clean it up."
Dean scowls, "We're not having sex in my car."
"Yeah we are."
"No, we're not."
"Dean, where else can we-"
"Not. In. My. Car. Think of something else."
"Well, what should we do? Drive to some cheap motel?"
***
The clerk at the desk sizes them up. "King or two queens?"
"King. Lots of extra towels and all the free pillow mints you can spare." Dean says, leering at her. David rolls his eyes. Okay, it's better then the Impala but at least he wouldn't have to deal with Dean's special brand of people skills.
She rolls her eyes too and hands over the keys. "Room 109, on your right. Checkout is before 10 am."
David grabs the keys and mutters a thank you.
The room is simple, plain sheets and decorations. Dean's sitting on the bed, unlacing his boots while David stands by the doorway, fixated on the wall.
"Looks familiar," he murmurs.
Dean stiffens his shoulders, "Oh, yeah?"
David nods and points at the painting of a sailboat on the wall by the bathroom. "Totally. I've seen that exact painting in Stan's Coffee Shop."
Dean lets out a sigh and crooks his finger at David, "C'mere." He's got his shoes off, and is leaning back on the bedspread.
David sits next to him, Dean grabs David's face with one hand. "You're really sure-"
David cuts him off with a kiss, pushing him down on the mattress, sitting on his hips.
"What do you think?"
"I think the Saints are far, far away from here."
"I think I want to make you scream."
The kissing is fierce, harder then he's felt Dean be with him. David likes it though, the kid gloves are gone. There are definitely too many clothes in the way and off they come, Dean's hands are fast. Of course that's when David leans back on his haunches and Dean hisses in pain.
"Shit!" He grabs his leg, kicking David off of him.
"Oh god, I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry, Dean are you okay?" Dean waves off David's concerns with a slight wave of his hand.
"It's fine, fine! I just need… Not so much weight on it, y'know?"
"Yeah," David wrings his hands. "Sorry."
"It's okay, really. Just, let me-" Dean pushes lightly on David's chest until he settles back down next to him.
They lie, face-to-face, just breathing for a moment. "Just gotta work around it." Dean says.
"Can I try?" David puts his hand just below Dean's navel, and Dean nods.
Dean has the most incredible hipbones. David's hands can almost just lie flat on them, his fingers are too long and reach over the edges. David holds Dean down with them, carefully avoiding putting any weight on his legs, and leans in to taste his skin.
It's far from perfect, really. A mass of scars and cuts and his muscles are always sore. David kisses every scar he can see in the dim light. Dean makes it even harder when he switches the lights out.
"Dean, I'm pretty much blind in the dark."
"Yeah, I know."
"That's not playing fair."
"'S more fun though."
Maybe it is, but that's neither here nor there in the end. Because it's all just a tease until the moment David gets his mouth around Dean's cock.
It's funny, David can put another item on the ever-growing list of things he intrinsically knows how to do. Tying his shoes, firing a shotgun, making pasta sauce and giving blowjobs.
From the sounds Dean makes, he's pretty damn good at it too. He loses himself in feelings and sounds and smells. When Dean comes and he swallows, he tries to get a good look at his face, but can just about make out a silhouette.
That shadow turns out to be the bedside lamp because Dean is behind him, arms circling his waist and mouth on his neck, kissing a trail to his shoulder. He bites down and David jerks up, Dean's arms tighten around his waist. "I want to fuck you." He whispers in his ear.
David nods. Dean really doesn't need permission, so long as he keeps his mouth right where it is.
When Dean is inside him, his fingers criss-cross each other, holding his stomach as if it might burst open and spill out. David is panting and gasping, and Dean is loud. His whispers are gone and replaced with shouts, praise for David and his sweetness. How hot and tight he is, how deep Dean can go. How fucking perfect.
David just curves his neck more, offers Dean a place to latch his mouth onto, and he takes the hint. Wet kisses along the trail of his neck, leaving behind gooseflesh and happy hums from David.
They grow into insistent moans and David comes when Dean bites his shoulder again.
Dean finishes minutes later; they fall into spooning and forgo showers for the morning. It's sticky and the smell of sweat and testosterone lingers in the air.
David dreams that night. Dean is in a simple white and orange kitchen, sitting on a countertop. He's never seen it before, but it's not at all unfamiliar. Dean looks happier there then David has ever seen him.
***
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