Craving

He was crazy. He was obsessed. He'd even admitted it to Sam. and it was true. His mind was hyper-focused on one thing only, no matter how he tried to distract himself. And his family was no fucking use. The only one who sympathized was Rosalie but she was in her room screwing Emmet's brains out, which didn't help Dean any.

Holy fuck, he was a mess. Needing to be with Sam, afraid to be with him too much, and then added to that was the purely clinical need to breath his scent to keep himself as desensitized as possible. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to make Sam insane with this too. That he'd let him have as normal a life as he could, which wouldn't be possible if he was over at his place every moment.

And yet... his hand constantly kept going to his cell phone. It was late, almost midnight. Humans needed to sleep. He hit the talk button... Sam's number had been on his screen for hours while he resisted dialing.

Sam was puttering around in his room, having said he was going to bed hours ago, unable to sleep, he had grabbed his iPod and started looking through books and magazines. All that did was make him think of Dean more because it was work for their project. And these damn songs weren't helping either. When the hell had he loaded all these sex songs on here anyway? Tossing the ipod into Dean's chair, as that was what he had come to think of it as, Sam flopped back on his bed, one arm over his eyes.

His cell vibrating on the night stand drew only half his attention as he blindly reached for it with his free hand and flipped it open, "Mm, yeah?"

"Sam. Did I wake you?" Dean lay back on the comfortable chaise long in his room, and lowered the sound of the music.

Sam moved his arm off his eyes, slowly sitting up in his bed, "No," he shook his head, glancing at the clock, "I , no, you didn't wake me. I was... couldn't sleep."

"You should be asleep, you didn't get any last night," Dean all but growled.

Sam huffed, "Yeah well, maybe if my vampire boyfriend would come over and sit on my bed while I slept I could get some sleep. Instead all I can do is sit here thinking about him!" Sam shot back, though the corner of his mouth was pulling up into a half grin. "Besides, I found that somehow I ended up with a shitload of sex songs on my ipod and those have not been helping my situation any either. You? What are you doing? Or did you just call to bitch at your human boyfriend for not sleeping?"

A smile spread over Dean's face. "I think I'm having the same problem. If my human boyfriend would just get out of my head and stop taunting me with that too-hot mouth of his, I might get some reading done." He licked his lips. "Sex songs, huh? I've got Rosalie and Emmet playing," he groaned, "and don't ever tell them I said anything."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, I doubt they'd be talking to me much anyway. Hot mouth, huh? And just what is it exactly about my mouth that you like?" Sam asked as he scooted back against the headboard of his bed, arranging the pillows behind him.

"You wanna know?" How the fuck was he supposed to put that into words? He could give it a try since he was the one who expected Sam to answer all his own questions. "Except when you're angry, it’s like your mouth is always just on the verge of smiling. And I don't mean one of those huge smiles, but just the tiniest smile... like a secret smile. That's just the tip of the iceberg. I don't know if you do it just to drive me crazy or what, but you're constantly parting your lips... when you're thinking, when you're sleeping, when you're listening in class and leaning back, with freaking pencil brushing over it... like you're about to put it in your mouth and you make me wait for it." Dean felt his temperature rise, figuratively if not literally. "Let's not even start on the times you let me get a glimpse of your tongue. That answer your question?"

Sam was smirking through it all, "Nah, I don't do that...do I?" he chuckled softly. "My tongue, huh? Uh-oh, here we go." Sam rolled his eyes grinning wide, "And what did my poor tongue ever do to you?"

"Cat, remember? It keeps darting out and making me want to pounce, that's what." As if that was all. "And you curled it around your fingertip this morning. I'm hardly gonna forget about that any time soon." The memory had him licking his own finger, then pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. "Sam? Are we having phone sex here?"

Sam was chuckling only to have it die way at Dean's question. "I, well, maybe a little bit. Never had it before." He shook his head, "Okay, my turn, what about you and all your little sexual innuendos, eh? There's only so many a man can take."

"What? What innuendos? You're seeing things where there aren't any," Dean said, very sure of himself.

"Oh sure. I breathe or lick my finger clean and I'm enticing you, but you, you can say things like, 'climb me' and 'I might eat you' and that's suppose to be okay?" Sam chuckled, "I got news for ya, dude, for every one of those little innuendos of yours, I've had to swallow back a reply. Trust me. They're come-ons. Relatively good ones too actually."

"You don't have to hold back your replies. If I could just fucking see in your head..." Reaching up, Dean shut off the light in his room. Even without it, he could see perfectly. "Tell me your answers. Tell me Sammy," he ordered.

"Sammy?" Sam repeated the name only his father had ever called him, a small smirk on his face. He never let anyone else call him that, but coming from Dean, it was different. Good. Right. "Well, when you said 'climb me', I was thinking, 'Oh yeah, I'll climb you alright.' Didn’t you see how I looked at you? And for the 'I might eat you', which is actually my favorite, I thought, 'Oh yeah? I got something for ya to eat alright.' But, see, I was good. I never said them. Just thought them."

"You did climb me," Dean bit his lip, wondering what it would have been like if he'd climbed him face to face. "Yeah, you held back... you were good," he added, thinking of all the images filling his head thinking about what Sam had for him... what was in his shorts. "What if.. what if I'd said yes?" he asked, his voice low and rough with lust now. Dammit, Emmit's sounds of encouragement from upstairs were distracting him...

Sam licked his lips, closed his eyes. "If you had said yes. Mm.. if you'd said yes to my climbing you... I would have wrapped a leg around you, pulled you in close, ground myself against you, as I wrapped my arms around you, held you to me... maybe leaned in placing a soft kiss on your neck, your jaw, your lips. I could have let my wicked tongue dart out and run along your bottom lip...."

Visualizing everything Sam said, Dean groaned. He wanted what Sam was describing, wanted it so bad. Just thinking about him was getting him hard. What would it feel like to press his arousal against Sam's? To feel Sam grinding against him, to have his tongue teasing him like that. His free hand clenched around the arm rest. "Oh God... you don't know how you're making me feel. What... what about the rest?"
"If you had said yes to eating what I have for you..." Sam made a choked chuckle sound, "Oh God, I think I would have died right there. Before you even got my boxers down. Just the thought of you touching me, your hand on my dick..."

Sam's own hand had slowly started to move down his body, his palm pressing against his cock in his boxers as his hips moved slowly. "Feel you pumping me, your breath on me, see you look up at me before taking me into your mouth." Sam told him, his voice growing more and more husky as he spoke. His hand dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers as he slowly pumped his shaft in time with the slow movement of his hips.

Heat coiled in Dean's stomach, tightening with every word that came from Sam. It was an impossible dream, but Dean got pulled into it. "I'd lick you first, Sam. Taste you a little at a time. Take in only your tip until I felt your fingers biting into my shoulders. I wouldn't rush it... not even then." He closed his eyes. "I'd tell you not to move, and even if you really needed to... you'd stop, for me. Wouldn't you?"

Sam's hand, his hips were moving faster, his body tensing as he listened, pictured it, could almost imagine it was real. Sam bit his lip, tried not to make a sound. He'd been told, by the one girl he'd been with, that he was a vocal lover, and he didn't want Dean to hear him now.
"Hm? Yeah... yeah, I would." Sam told him, his words panted out softly into the phone. "Keep going. Don't stop."

Thinking Sam was telling him what he'd say, Dean continued. "I'd take more of you in my mouth and suck hard, holding your hips so you couldn't move. I'd want to take you in, all the way to the back of my throat, but I wouldn't want it to be over so fast, so I'd draw it out. You'd make these sounds, like you did when you were dreaming..." Dean blinked, realizing Sam was making the sounds right now. "Sam? Sam what are you doing?" He sat up, so fucking hard and heavy he thought he was going to come in his pants.

Sam's head thrashed on his pillow as he tried to remain quiet, straight white teeth bit hard into his bottom lip as he pumped his hand, faster. Sam whimpered softly, as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, grit his teeth. Shit, Dean had asked him a question. But, he couldn't answer, not right then, not when his balls were drawing up, heat coiling low in his belly. "Oh fuck, Dean! I'm gonna come!"

"What?" The truth hit Dean. "No, don't... Don't you come Sam, not until I get there. I want to see. Don't come," he ordered in a commanding tone.

Sam Whimpered into the phone at Dean's command. Oh God... He kept moving his hand, his eyes closed, picturing Dean sucking him, licking, holding his hips still.

Dean didn't bother with the stairs and was out his own window, several stories above the ground. With single minded determination, and moving faster than his sports car could ever hope to, he was on Sam's driveway and then inside his room in the span of minutes.

Wary and keeping his distance, his gaze was laser-focused on Sam. He watched Sam's hand moving under the thin material of his boxer, and his face... so flushed, his lips parted... his breaths coming out hot and fast.

"Ok... okay Sam, come for me." He said. "Come in my mouth."

He didn't even realize Dean was in the room until he heard his voice. Sam's eyes opened to mere slits of hazel as he glanced at him, before he closed them again, his neck arched back as he bit his lip, "Holy fuck!" Sam felt the first rope of come leaving him, wetting his hand and the material of his boxers. His lips parted as he panted, soft moans escaping him until finally his hand stilled and his head lowered.

"Ohmygod.." Sam panted out the words, licked his lips. His eyes slowly opened, looking at Dean. "What -" Sam swallowed, "What kept you?" he asked breathlessly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Oh my God," Dean echoed, looking into Sam's glazed eyes. He felt like he was short of breath, another new experience, and there was a burning desire to know something. He really should fight against it, should leave Sam alone right now... but he couldn't. One leaden step at a time, he moved closer and bent down. Slowly, he tugged Sam's hand out of his pants and raised it up. "Don't move."

The warning was sharp and cracked like a whip in the small room. Swallowing, Dean brought Sam's hand up to his mouth. "I want to suck on your finger," he said, so heavy with need between his legs, it was painful. Sticking his tongue out, he licked the length of Sam's middle finger, tasting him an a way he never thought he would. His lips trembled. "So good. Want you to taste what I tasted. Scoot up..." Yeah, he was playing with fire.

When Sam did, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly leaned in, bringing his mouth inches above Sam's. Danger was thick in the air, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do to prevent himself from trying this, just once. "Sammy..." he whispered the desperate plea, before slanting his mouth across Sam's and kissing him warily, careful not to touch him in any other place.

Sam watched every move Dean made, swallowing as he gazed into Dean's eyes, his face so close, and then Dean's lips were pressed to his and Sam gasped, wanting so badly to reach up, pull Dean in closer, feel him, take more of him in. Instead Sam's fingers tangled in the bed sheets as he kissed Dean back slowly, tentatively. Sam moaned softly into Dean's mouth, deeping the kiss as much as he dared. Slowly his hand rose from the bed, going to Dean's shoulder, sliding upward toward his neck, fingers running up into Dean's hair.

This was better than Dean had thought, better than he'd imagined. Fire raced through his veins as his tongue was sheathed by the heat of Sam's mouth. He didn't penetrate too far, but explored slowly, tasting what he'd desired for so long. Then something flashed between them. Their tongues tangled, danced. Before Dean could process what was happening, everything changed. His eyes went inky black, his teeth ached, a terrible craving that could only be satisfied by Sam's blood surged through him.

Only fear for Sam's safety gave him the strength to break-off . He hurtled backwards away from Sam like a pebble on a slingshot, his back striking the opposite wall and causing a picture to fall off it. Scrambling near the window, he gripped the back of the chair and tried to center himself... to forget how sweet Sam smelled, how exciting the sound of his blood rushing through his veins was, and how much he wanted to sink his teeth into that gentle teens throat to suck him dry... to make him put out these fires raging inside him.

"Ah..." he banged his head against the wall. "It's not fair. It’s not fucking fair. I finally find someone and I can't even..." Eyes glittering with unshed tears, Dean turned on Sam. "Tell me to go. Tell me right now."

Sam shook his head, "No." he said softly, "Stay. Here. With me. Tonight. Just... lay with me. That's all."

"Sam," Dean's frustration showed through. "Just fucking do this for me. Tell me."

Sam frowned at him, "It was my fault, Dean. You told me not to move, I moved. You told me you couldn't handle..." Sam waved a hand, "this stuff and I wacked off on the phone with you. It's my fault, not yours! I'm not going to tell you to leave. If you leave, it's because you want to, not because I want it."

Dean sat and put his head down on his arms on the desk. He hadn't cried in what? Decades? And yet tears were streaming out of his eyes, tears he didn't want Sam to see. "Don't apologize. Don't... not for the best moment of my life," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

Sam sighed, as he pulled from the bed, walked over to the desk, but stayed a few steps back. He crouched down, and reached a hand out, ran it along Dean's arm. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to make this any harder for you than it already is. Damn teenage hormones, or so I'm told." Sam said with a small grin.

"It's not you. I started it. I called. I had to see. I wanted a taste. Then I wanted more," he said bitterly. Wiping his face, he sat up. "I want to love you, but if I do that... I could end up killing you. How do I deal with that Sam? How?" He swallowed. "Don't answer that, because there is no answer. This isn't fair to you, it just fucking isn't. You might not see that, but I do."

Sam nodded, "Yep. You sure could. You could just look over at me sleeping one night and decide to rip my throat out. Yup." Sam grinned at him, shaking his head, "I don't think you would," he shrugged, "But you could. Or..." Sam quirked a brow, "What if nothing bad happened? What if it all worked out okay? What if you and I made this work?" he sighed, as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, "I always figured I'd die on a hunt. You know, my Dad wouldn't get there in time to save my skin and some nasty would rip me apart and that would be the end of Sam Winchester. No one would know, no one would care. Just my Dad. That's it. That's all I have. But, he always said that if you die doing something you love, then death isn't so bad." Sam looked away, "The theory works for my Dad, he loves hunting. Me, not as much as he'd like me to." he looked back at Dean, "But, if something horrible were to happen with us... at least I would have died doing something I love."

"And I'd be the instrument of your death." Dean answered gruffly, but he was moved. He put his own hand on Sam's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I don't know why you think no one would care if you died. Maybe if you gave up on hanging out with vampires and found yourself a nice girlfriend, like Kim or Stacy... erm, second thought … yeah... I'd choose death too." He finally smiled. "This is very Romeo and Juliet. I probably should write my letter in this mood."

Sam chuckled and nodded, "Well it is one of my favorites. And yeah, yeah, I know, I'm such a girl." he chuckled again, as he pulled to his feet. "I guess this means you're leaving, huh?" Sam asked him, as he walked back to the bed and sat down.

"I'll wait until you're asleep." He watched Sam get back inside his bed, and managed a smile.

* * *

Dean stood in line at the admin office, his self written excuse note in hand. Even without turning, he knew the exact moment Sam came in and stood right behind him. Turning, he whispered a warning. "Get ready for the grilling of your life. Everyone's thinking about how you were out on the same day as me."

Sam grinned, "I'm not worried. Maybe I'll just tell them we consummated our relationship and needed a day to recover." he whispered back, chuckling softly.

"Bitch." Dean's answer was automatic.

Sam grinned, "Jerk." he replied without even having to think about it.

Mike walked through, grinning at them both, raised his camera, or rather the school paper's, and snapped a picture. "Young love." he told Sam as he fluttered his lashes at him chuckling.
Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, grabbing for the camera. "Dude! Uncool!"
Mike laughed, dancing away from him. "Dude, everyone's talking. It's not just me! Oh and Stacy wants to talk to you." Mike snickered, "Guess she's jealous." Mike turned then hurrying away, laughing as he went, holding his camera up over his head in triumph.

"Don't worry, that film will mysteriously disappear," Dean assured him, a look of annoyance crossing his features. The line moved, and Dean was at the counter passing his note to the secretary.

"Mr. Cullen... another hiking day," she said, shaking her head and not even looking at the note.

"I went exploring, actually. Covered lots of virgin territory." Taking the slip from her, he muttered thanks and moved away to the door, waiting for Sam.

Sam was glad he hadn't been drinking when Dean said, 'virgin territory' or he would have spewed whatever beverage all over the back of Dean's head. As it was he had to bite his lip and quickly look at the floor, he was certain that he had turned a few shades redder than the average human being.

He turned in his note, having been used to forging his Dad's signature for years, Sam had easily forged this note from his Great aunt, copying her signature from a canceled check he found laying with a stack of bills on her desk in the hall downstairs.

After he turned in his note, Sam turned walking over to Dean and out the door with him, just as Tom walked by grinning, "I want to hear everything later," he told Sam, glancing at Dean before continuing by with some girl or another. His flavor of the week apparently.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked over at Dean, "Well, you're apparently popular. No one ever asked me about anyone else I ever skipped with in my life," he shook his head, grinning.

"Popular... don't think so. By the end of the day you'll definitely hate me." He'd read enough minds to know half of them were in the gutter, and the other half were dissatisfied for a variety of reasons, including that the Cullens were snobs so Sam must be too, or why weren't the girls at school good enough for Sam or... Dean didn't give a damn about all the reasons, but he wondered whether Sam could take it. "Might be better if you just denied it and said you were sick and at home, alone."

Sam gave Dean an intent look, "Could never hate you." he licked his lips, his gaze moving down to Dean's hand near his and his pinky lightly touched Dean's hand. "They don't worry me. Mike and Tom were just being stupid." Sam grinned, "It's fine. Don't worry about me, I mean it. I'll see ya in English." Sam told him, as his gaze met Dean's again and held for a long moment before he finally looked away and turned heading down the hall.

* * *

The Cullens walked into the cafeteria together, walking between the parting crowd of students straight to the single table in the corner that remained unoccupied. While his brothers and sisters sat, Dean remained standing, his gaze locked for a moment with Rosalie's. "I'd stop it, if I could," was all he said.

He didn't need to breath in Sam's scent, he knew the instant the teen entered the cafeteria... felt his presence, felt the his pull.

"Dean, smile, or he'll think you plan to eat him," Alice advised, getting up to go get some food.

Sam walked into the cafeteria and looked toward the Cullen's table to find Dean standing nearby. Walking over, Sam smiled slightly at him with a sigh. "Uh, got a minute?"

They normally sat apart, it was...expected, but Sam didn't want to, not today. Dean hadn't been kidding when he said that it would be best to deny everything and say he had been home sick and alone. He'd been laughed at, told that he was being used, that Cullen's only screwed other Cullen's so there was obviously something Dean wanted from him and then he'd be dumped like yesterday's trash. The entire football team had, at one point, all bumped into him in the hall as they passed by muttering about his being 'gay' and glaring at him. He'd gotten the pity look from some. Lustful glances from other's and others still had actually told him that Tom, his supposed friend of all people, was going around spreading his own special brand of rumor. If another girl asked him how big he was and that she just wanted to see 'it' he was going to scream.

Sam ran a hand down his face, "Long day."

Dean searched his face. He didn't need to be able to read his mind to know what he meant. "Let's get you something to eat," he said with a nod, very aware of all the eyes focused on them as they got their trays.

Sam sighed, he wasn't very hungry, but he knew...just knew, if he said that to Dean he'd get a dirty look and quite possibly the bunny would jump out the window and never return, so he nodded instead.

A female voice, cleared her throat from behind them and Sam visibly stiffened before slowly turning to look back.

"Um, Sam," her gaze dropped to his crotch then returned to her face. "I, uh, can I see?"

"NO!!!" Sam yelled at her, frowning hard. Holy hell! Not another one! Motherfu-
Sam looked around the lunchroom. When he found Tom he was going to kill him!

They walked a few paces to the line formed in front of the buffet. "What does she mean 'ten inches,'" Dean asked quietly, watching Sam with the same quiet stillness of a cat, right before it pounced.

Sam looked back at Dean with a huff. He shook his head, "My friend, Tom has spread the rumor that I have a ten inch dick. That it takes ten inches to satisfy a Cullen. Now all the damn girls wanna see it!"

"And some of the boys." Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean moved up the line then reached for a silver foil wrapped burger which he wouldn't eat.

Sam sighed, closed his eyes. "They do?" he whined, opening his eyes as he looked over at Dean, "Who? Which ones? So I can steer clear. Bad enough having girls almost literally chase you into the bathroom." he sighed.

"Me." Giving a shaky laugh, Dean insisted, "Load your tray, you're going to need the energy."

Sam smirked, chuckled softly, "Oh." he licked his lips, reaching for one of the pre-made salads. "Well, I promise not to run from you then." Sam glanced over at him, "I've got bad news for ya though," he said, shaking his head. “It ain't ten inches. I mean, I don't keep a ruler by the bed or anything, but I really don't think that it's..." Sam shrugged, "yeah, you know."

"I'm pretty sure Cullens don't need ten inch dicks, but I wouldn't ask," he said, even though every Cullen in the room was now also looking at them, listening. "I'll get you a ruler if you want... just for accurate reporting."

Sam looked at him, a slow smile spreading across his face before he laughed out right. He shook his head, "No, that's quite alright. Thanks just the same. If... when the time comes, you like it, that's all that's necessary." Sam looked at him, sobering, his smile slowly fading, as he licked his lips, "Unless you want to measure it for me."

"I... yeah, I would like that, but I wouldn't stop at measuring. And you... just keep pushing the envelope." His eyes went dark for a moment as he thought of touching Sam, recalled how he'd tasted. Licking his lips, he put some distance between them. "You're doing that thing again, with your mouth. Maybe you've found a new way to kill a... one of us," he muttered, semi-grumpily, walking past the drinks.

Sam raised a brow at him, "With my mouth...?" he huffed, shaking his head as he grabbed an apple and walked away from the food to get a drink. "Dude, you need to loosen up." Sam told him, "A good orgasm would help you," he chuckled softly, before holding up his hands as he rested his tray on the counter. "I never said I had to give it to you."

"Keep talking and you just might." Waiting for Sam to get his drink, he found them a table, near the Cullens. Feeling Sam's questioning glance, he shrugged. "You're getting too comfortable with vampires. Cut it out." From a distance, he could practically feel Jasper's relief.

Sam quirked a brow, "Too comfortable?" he huffed and shook his head, "That's not what you were saying yesterday," he muttered, looking down at his tray with a smirk. Glancing up at Dean, Sam shrugged, "I'm 'comfortable' with a lot of things. Things most people would run screaming from." he grinned, "I could run... but only if you promise to chase me," he popped a grape into his mouth.

"That would be a one-second chase." Dean wanted to be annoyed or mad at Sam for the casual way he was accepting all this, and also for pushing himself further into danger as if he had no clue. But he couldn't, not right now... because right now he was having an epiphany. The very things that annoyed him about Sam were what made him love him. He let out a deep breath. "Oh man, I was about to tell you what comes next. This... this phone sex or role play thing, is it addictive. Or maybe it’s me, finding another fucking addiction."

Sam chuckled, his eyes danced with mischief as he looked at Dean. "While I would definitely like that, I'd rather not put on a show for the entire school. Let's save it for later." Sam winked at him, grinning as he reached for his glass of punch.

Tom walked up behind Sam, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling Sam backward slightly as he bent down, grinning. "How's my favorite couple doing?" Tom asked him, only to have Sam reach back and grab Tom in a vice-like grip, "I oughta kick your ass." Sam told him.

Tom laughed, "Dude! I made you a legend and hey, I get to console all those girls you say no to. It's a win, win situation!" Tom pulled away, smacking Sam in the back of the head, "You can thank me later!" he called out as he walked out of the cafeteria.

Sam watched him go glaring, before looking back at Dean with a huff, "My friends," he shook his head.

"Yeah. And everyone else... their thoughts are driving me crazy today." Dean started to point look at students. "She wants you. That one wants you to do everything you did with Stacy," his gaze darkened. "That one would like to draw you naked and then sit... Sonovabitch," he dragged his gaze away and looked into Sam's eyes. "I've never been jealous before. Say something... distract me, now..."

Sam had leaned slightly closer looking at each person Dean pointed out, but now, he was looking at Dean, his eyes meeting Dean's. Jealous? Really? Sam licked his lips and said the first thing that came to his mind. "I want you."

"I know that already. Something else... something that won't make me drag either you or one of them out of here." Dean's fingers bit into the sides of his chair, his fingernails cutting into the soft wood. "What... what are your parents like? What does your mother think about your father going off... why does she let you live here?"

Sam licked his lips, his eyes traveling over Dean's form, seeing the battle he was having. "Uh, Dad's military," he shrugged, "Was a marine. Hunts now, you know that. My Mom," Sam tore his gaze away from Dean, looking at his tray, finger of one hand ran through the dressing on his salad, "Mom's dead," he told him softly. Slowly, Sam looked up at Dean, his gaze soft, full of emotion.

Hyper focused now on Sam's past, some of Dean's tension eased. "I'm sorry." He wanted to hold him then, pull him into his arms, but this wasn't the place, and he wasn't calm enough to risk it anyway. "I wish I could read your mind and not ask." Course he couldn't stand not knowing, especially anything about Sam. "What happened? How did you lose her?"

Sam sighed, looked back down at his food, frowned thoughtfully before clearing his throat, "Um, she died in my nursery. I was six months old." Sam pulled his finger out of the dressing and licked it, before wiping it on his napkin and sitting back with a sigh. "It's why Dad and I hunt now. I know he blames me." Sam shook his head, staring off into nothingness.

Pain emanated from Sam, but there was nothing Dean could do about this. "I don't understand. How did she die... why would he blame you?" It didn't make sense, then again, it wasn't something they should be talking about in a crowd like this. Dean knew that, but he couldn't fucking stop the questions that kept welling up. "You were just a baby."

Sam smirked slightly, but there was no merriment in it. His gaze remained on some point off in the distance. After a moment Sam blinked and looked back at Dean with a sigh, frowning, "My Dad told me," he licked his lips and when he spoke again, his voice was haunted, "I went into your nursery, your mother was on the ceiling, blood dripping from her stomach. There was a fire, I grabbed you and ran out of the house." Sam blinked, smirked slightly, again it held no merriment, "A demon killed my mother," he told Dean, hazel eyes locked with green/gold. "And he blames me as it apparently, because it was after me."

Visualizing the scene, Dean destroyed the burger on his tray. "You were a baby. It's not your fault," he reiterated. "If he blames you, he's a..." he just restrained himself from calling John Winchester a fucking idiot. "Was he... does he mistreat you?" His features hardened as his protective instincts kicked in.

Sam grinned, "You mean does he beat the dog snot out of me?" Sam asked him, shaking his head, "No. My Dad's pretty awesome." he shrugged, "We argue about... well, everything. He thinks I need to hunt, to be the best hunter. That I should want to do it because of mom." Sam sighed, "But, it's not all that important to me. I dunno, it's his thing, his obsession. Not mine. But, I do it, because it's expected. Because it's what we do, it's what's right." he shook his head, "Dad has neversaid he blames me, but I can tell. The way he looks at me sometimes when he thinks I don't notice... like he's scared of me."

"Sounds like regular father son arguments, except the usual family business isn't hunting." He pushed the salad toward Sam, urging him to eat. "Maybe it’s you, blaming yourself. Just think about it, okay? Cause I haven't met your dad, and I don't have a clue."

Sam quirked a brow at Dean as he pressed his lips together, sighed softly and finally nodded. He didn't think so, but he didn't argue. Sure, he blamed himself, but... he wasn't so sure that was the whole story.

The bell rang for fifth period.

"Speaking of dads... mine wants to meet you after school." Dean put his palm out. "Give me your keys. I'm going to drop your car off at your place."

Sam looked at him, lips parted, "My keys?" Sam frowned, slowly reaching into his pocket he pulled them out, held them back, "Don't hurt my car," he told Dean. "I mean it. I'll kick-" Sam stopped knowing Dean would only laugh at the idea of him kicking his ass, quirked a brow, "Well, I'll do something nasty to you if you do," he told him, eyes narrowed. Sam smirked, "Meet your Dad? When's the wedding?"

"Shut up, it's bad enough Carlisle's making me bring you. I told him I wouldn't bring you to the house." Closing the subject, he went back to the car issue. "You should just let me buy you a new car, then we wouldn't be having this argument." Dean paused, "what kind of nasty thing would you do to me?"

Sam looked at him, a wounded look on his face. "Aww, am I your dirty little secret?" he teased him before pulling to his feet and shaking his head, grinning. He leaned in close to Dean's ear, as he placed the key's in Dean's hand, "Things that would make you loosen up a whole lot." he whispered, before pulling back and walking past him toward the door. "Gotta go! See ya after school."

"What kinds of things? Sam? Sam! Dammit," he muttered the rest under his breath then moved with preternatural speed to the parking lot. He'd be maybe five minutes late to class, but they'd get to ride together to the hospital, which suited him fine.

* * *

Sam walked out of the school, glad to have the longest school day on record over with. After lunch he had had to give a presentation and he was sure every damn person had been staring at his crotch and not his face. Fuckin' Tom.

Walking toward Dean, Sam couldn't help the slow grin that pulled at his lips, making his dimples show. "Hey!" Sam greeted, stepping up to him, "Did you figure it out?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow. "What I would do to you?" he glanced around the parking lot, then looked back at Dean, "I could start to show you now and really give them all something to talk about tonight." Sam told him as he waggled his eyebrows, chuckling.

"Hmph." Dean leaned in and whispered near Sam's ear. "What did you call me before? Prick-tease." Pulling away, he walked around the shiny black car and got inside, grinning. That display was as good as any to start the tongues wagging again.

Sam huffed and shook his head before turning toward the car, pulling open the passenger door. "I am so not a prick tease, dude," he told Dean as he folded his long frame into the car and closed the door. "See, to be a prick tease you have to not be willing to do the things you say. I however am more than willing."

Dean laughed. "Maybe. Or maybe if you knew I'd take you up you'd be more cautious." Throwing the car in reverse, he timed it just right so he didn't have to wait at all in the lot, veering around a too-slow car, and heading onto the street. "Did you know you grew from ten inches to twelve in the shower, after P.E. class? At least that's what I hear..."

Sam eyed Dean and shook his head, then laughed outright. "No way! After P.E.? Who the hell was lookin'? And I so want to borrow that ruler!" he shook his head, "So now my cock is almost as big as my feet. Nice. Watch, tomorrow it'll be as big." Sam looked down at his feet and nodded, "Thirteen and a half." he looked back at Dean, "I'll Probably have people climbing up to my room window." he chuckled and shook his head. "Well, if nothing else, it's funny."

"Only one person gets to climb into your room." Dean slid a warning look to Sam. He knew Sam was joking, but he also couldn't help the feelings that stirred up in him at the thought of it being true. He put his hand on Sam's thigh, searching within himself to make sure he was under control, before squeezing possessively. "Just me, Sam."

Sam's laughter died away, his gaze slowly dropping to Dean's hand on his thigh. Sam placed his hand over Dean's before looking back at him, nodding. "Only you." he agreed softly. Sam tore his gaze from Dean a slight chuckle working out of him, "And this is the time when I would lean over and kiss you." he smiled at Dean, "Maybe long distance kissing would be better?" he asked quirking a brow.

"You can kiss me," he answered thickly. "I'll concentrate on driving. No... no quick moves," he reminded Sam, changing gears to speed up the car.

Sam slowly exhaled as he nodded, "I dunno how great a testament that is to how you think I kiss, that you'll concentrate on driving, but, okay." he mumbled, as he adjusted the way he was sitting, moved slightly closer, bracing a hand on the side of the back of Dean's seat before slowly leaning toward him, making sure Dean always had at least a partial view of the road. Sam closed his eyes, ran his tongue over Dean's bottom lip slowly, before pressing his lips against Dean's gently, mouth opening as his tongue darted out, slowly pressing into the corner of Dean's mouth, the tip of his tongue and running along the roof of Dean's mouth, before delving deeper. Slowly, he mapped out Dean’s mouth, tangling Dean's tongue with his own. Sam took in a deep breath through his nose as he moved closer, his free hand cupping the side of Dean's face as he moaned softly into his mouth.

Dean's knuckles were white against the steering wheel as he used every shred of control not to react the way his instincts screamed for him to. Sam's tongue was both soft and firm in his mouth, stroking him, making his mouth burn, making him ache for more... to put his arms around Sam, to kiss him back hard... Dean heard a sound, and it was his own moan in response to Sam's. He dared to move his tongue once, to stroke Sam's, and knew they should stop... but he couldn't fucking bring himself to say it. Instead, he used all of his senses to drive straight even in those seconds Sam blocked his view.

Sam's hand pulled away from Dean's face as he reached back, unfastened his seat belt, then returned to Dean's face, slid down, cupping the side of his neck as he continued to kiss him, pulling back just slightly, only to delve deep again. Sam's breathing kicked up a notch as he kissed Dean, ran his tongue over every area of his mouth, sucked Dean's tongue into his own mouth he moaned before moving his mouth on Dean's tongue.

The slick penetration of his mouth alone had been driving Dean to the very edge, but when Sam started to suck his tongue... like he was giving it a blow job, he nearly lost it. Between the sensations of having his tongue sheathed and squeezed and the sound of Sam's heart, his blood rushing, his scent washing over him, Dean was in heaven and in hell. His temples pounded as he struggled against the need to pounce on Sam, to push him back on the chair, to kiss him, to fuse their groins together as he drank from him. An animalistic growl broke from Dean, and he jerked away. "Enough!"

He panted, eyes straight ahead, focused on the hospital ahead. He was not going to lose it... he wasn't. His jaw ached from how tightly he was gritting it, but he didn't say a thing.

Sam gazed at Dean with wide eyes, wiped his mouth with the back of a hand as he slowly sat back in the seat. "Sorry." he muttered softly, "Guess I got carried away." Sam told him, before tearing his gaze away to look out the window as he licked his lips. Still tasting Dean there. Sam closed his eyes, sighing softly, before opening them again and clearing his throat.

"Me too. I guess my concentration on driving isn't that good." Dean was silent for a moment as he pulled into the parking lot. "Are you... angry?"

Sam looked over at him, shook his head. "N-No. Why would I be angry? I went too far." he swallowed, licked his lips, "Are you angry with me?"

"No. Just... scared and... this isn't fair to you." Throwing the car into park, he looked at Sam. "I know you said you could die anytime from hunting. How about dying from waiting? What if we can never..." he gestured. Yeah, they'd come a long way. He had controlled himself much better than he thought possible... than would have been possible the first time Sam walked into his life. But it didn't necessarily mean they could ever go all the way.

Sam sighed and shook his head, a soft smile pulling at his lips, "Then I'll die from the sweetest torture." he told Dean, as he reached over, taking his hand in his and squeezing. "We just have to find... alternative means..." Sam winked, smirking, "It can be done." he said, reaching for the door handle, and nodding toward the hospital, "Now come on, I don't want to make a bad impression on your Dad. I want him to like me." Sam told him, grinning.

"Oh, just knowing you kissed me and lived... that'll make him love you." Stepping out of the car, he looked at stunned Sam across its roof. "One sniff, he'll know you were all over me. Don't worry, he's a doc... he's very clinical about these things." Winking, he slammed the door shut and locked the doors.

(A/N: comments much appreciated)