Craving

It was close to midnight. Dean was feeling a lot better, so much so that he was contemplating a quick trip to Sam's room. Remembering that Sam had made it a point to tell him to phone, he wondered if Sam had a reason. Maybe he was seeing the light, maybe he was trying to be safe. "Not a chance," he muttered to himself, flopping down on his chaise lounge and dialing. When Sam picked up in one ring, he smiled into the phone. "Guess you were waiting?"

Sam smiled, as he held the phone in one hand, the towel around his hips with the other. "I was hoping that I timed it right is all," he said with a shrug as he walked over to his computer and fastened the towel around his hips. Booting the computer up, he moved the web cam to the top of his dresser facing his bed. "So, how was your afternoon?" He slowly backed up from the web cam, eyes on the lens as he tried to figure out exactly what Dean would be seeing and if it was lined up right.

Sam listened to Dean, tossing in an 'uh-huh' where needed as he worked. Once he could see Dean, he climbed onto his bed, sitting down in the center and leaning back against the pillows. "Dean," Sam said his name, interrupting the silence that had fallen between them. "Turn around and look at your computer. Tell me what you see."

"Huh? What, you need me to research something now?" he mused turning his head toward his desk only to give a sharp start. "Sam?" Dean swung his legs down to the ground and leaned toward his large monitor, eyes glued on it. "I see you and you're all wet." In fact, Sam's hair was plastered to his forehead, just like in his day dream. The broad expanse of his chest was shiny with droplets of water, and lower, a towel was knotted at his waist. He knew he must sound like a moron, but he couldn't muster up a clever thought to save his life right now.

Sam grinned at the camera pointed at him, "Surprise."

The smile was wiped off Dean's face as quickly as it started to spread. "Goddamnit... sonova... Sam, I told you, I told THEM, I don't want you here, not without me. You just... why the fuck do you have to push the envelope? Why?" he demanded, working himself up. "I tell you it’s dangerous, you don't listen. I tell you that you might die, and you fucking smile and say 'not a chance.' I ask you to --"

"Alice, Dean." Sam cut him off with a sigh. "It's rather amazing what a nice vampire girl will do for a flower and some sweet talk. She's quite the hopeless romantic." he muttered, rolling over onto his side as he reached under his bed for something, laying the small bottle beside him on the bed as he pulled back up. "I gave the stuff to Alice at school today and she set it up for me. I stayed away. I did what you asked of me."

"Alice..." Unclenching his fist, Dean nodded. "Okay." He could see the possibilities in this, it was much better than just phone sex. Sam had said they might have to find other ways to get together, and this was his way of making it happen. A good one. Dean's gaze devoured Sam's form, his mind going to what was under that towel. "Are you going to take it off, the towel?" he asked thickly, only vaguely wondering what Sam had in his hand.

Sam chuckled, "Probably. Likely. Yeah." Sam licked his lips, rolled the opposite way and turned off the main light in his room, the only light left was directed only on him and his bed, leaving the rest of Sam's room black in the web cam.

“I want to see you too. Undress for me. Slowly. And tell me more about your daydream. How you felt, how I felt to you. Tell me everything, Dean." Sam told him, his voice dropping to a dark whisper.

"Who have you done this with before?" Dean demanded, unable to beat down his jealous streak, even as he reached for the hem of his tee shirt.

Sam blinked, frowned and shook his head as he looked up at the cam, "No one. Why?"

"You sure about that Sam? The lighting, the knowing where to put the cameras, the... you know just what to say thing. Tell me." He pulled the shirt up his body and over his head, turning so that Sam could see him clearly.

Sam licked his lips, shook his head. "I've never had... never done this before. I've used a web cam, I know a lot about computers and stuff, that's all. Sometimes on a hunt," he shrugged, "there was a girl who used to talk to me, she always used a cam, but not like this. It wasn't sexual," he shrugged, "at least not on my end. I guess I'm just... inspired." He grinned at the camera.

Dean visibly relaxed, not that he'd have a leg to stand on even if Sam had done this with others. "How about the towel? I have a one track mind, I didn't forget," he gave a rueful smile. "Tug on it, I want to see it come apart."

Sam's grin widened, as his hand moved off the bed to slowly, teasingly move toward the towel only to stop as he looked up from his hand to the camera and lick his lips slowly. Hazel eyes went back to his hand, as he reached for the knot, giving the towel a small tug. The knot came loose revealing Sam's hip and side of his thigh and ass against the bed. He looked back up at the camera and swallowed. "Okay. You, uh, show me more."

"You're... perfect, just like I thought." He wanted to ask Sam to roll over onto his side, so he could see him... really see him. Nodding, he undid his button, his chest constricting at the rapt attention on Sam's face. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them off, his eyes never leaving Sam's. "Can you see?"

Sam licked his lips, his breath catching in his throat, "Yeah." the word was a sigh before he closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing. Sam opened his eyes and looked back into the camera as his hand slowly moved to the towel again, "Start telling me." he said softly as he started to push the towel away, revealing himself completely to Dean's eyes. "I was in the water with you, sucking your tongue and you wanted to fuck me... keep going."

A strangled sound broke from Dean when Sam finally let him see his cock, a warm flush stealing over his normally cool body. Nodding and wetting his suddenly dry lips, Dean tried to describe his feelings. "The way you're sucking my tongue, the way you kiss along its side, I've never seen anything like it. Felt anything like it. It makes me think of how it would feel if your mouth was on my cock. I'm getting hard, so fucking hard, Sam." He squirmed slightly, struggling against the need to move his hand over himself, even as he stared at the monitor... not wanting to miss any of Sam’s reactions.

"I grip your hips, hold you so hard against me, there's no space between us. You're wet and slippery, and big... God you feel good against my cock. I try to position you so that we are fucking each other's cocks, but in the back of my head... I know I shouldn't be doing this... I know. I tell myself I'm trying to teach you a lesson, but I'm not Sam... I just... I just need you so bad, so fucking bad it hurts."

Sam swallowed hard, his hand running down his chest as his back arched ever so slightly, eyes closing briefly as he took his dick in his hand and started to slowly pump himself, the bottle of lube he'd grabbed forgotten. "Tell me, tell me what you wanted to do to me, Dean," Sam demanded, looking at the monitor through heavy lidded eyes.

"I wanted to fuck you, Sam. I wanted to own you. I wanted to brand you, to mark you..." he was panting slightly, watching Sam's hand slide up and down his cock, watching his face as he entered a state of complete euphoria. His own hand moved over his shorts, to his cock and he squeezed, closing his eyes for only a second. "I wanted to be inside you so far you'd feel me the next day."

Sam gasped softly, as his eyes closed, straight white teeth biting his bottom lip. He nodded slowly as he opened his eyes, "And I would have let you. Welcomed it," he said, voice husky with his arousal. "Would have..." Sam moaned softly, "Would have opened up for you, let you take me. Begged you for more. Told you over and over not to stop, not to ever stop."

Somehow, Dean's hand had worked its way into his shorts and he was taking himself as he watched Sam, listened to him. "Oh God... oh God Sam, I was right up against your ass, I wanted so badly to push inside. If you told me not to stop... I..." Switching tactics, Dean started to pretend this was real. "I’m pushing inside you Sam, but you're so fucking tight I'm afraid of hurting you. I try to slow down, but I can't... I can't because I don't have that much control... I tried to tell you that, but you didn't listen. I'm inside you. I'm sorry I'm hurting you. I beg you to forgive me. To tell me to stop... because maybe if you tell me, I can find the strength not to keep thrusting, not to keep wanting to feel you squeeze me so tight."

Sam gasped softly, swallowing. His eyes closed, but he made himself open them again, so he could watch Dean. His back arched as his hips bucked up toward his fist. "Oh God... " he shook his head, "Not gonna tell you to stop. Never tell you that," he breathed out the words, chest rising and falling hard in his aroused state, "Tell you how full you make me feel, how good it is, how right. How I don't want you to stop. Wanna feel you for days. Want you to make it hurt, make me remember always that I'm yours." Sam moaned, bit his lip, as his neck arched again.

"I fuck you harder, I can't help it, not when you're telling me to. Oh God Sam, I'm moving so hard, so fast, I want you so bad and in so many ways, it hurts. You're mine, I whisper in your ear. I tell you again, until you agree, and then I ... Sammy I can't help it, I'm sorry, I can't help it... I need to taste you... I sink my teeth into your shoulder, oh God... you taste better than you smell... and I'm lost, so fucking lost. I can hear you in my head. You should be telling me to stop, but you're not. So I fuck your wound with my tongue, maybe it will stop me from drinking... and I pound into you harder, concentrating on how that feels... the pressure building... I'm gonna come, I mean NOW." Dean leaned back and raised his hips. "Say my name. Come with me... please Sam," his voice was edged with desperation.

Sam was panting hard, his hand moving fast on himself, body tense, muscles straining. His neck taunt, arched though he kept his eyes on the monitor. His tongue darted out to run along his lips as a loud moan escaped him. "Yes, yes, oh God, yes." he whispered, breathlessly. Sam's lips parted, mouth open before he bit hard into his bottom lip, a loud whimper escaping, his face turning a deep crimson.

With a grunt, he thrust his hips up, "Dean! Fuck!" the words were a near shout in the quiet of his bedroom as the first ribbon of come spilled from his cock wetting his hand. Sam gasped in air like a drowning man as his back arched, his eyes squeezing closed. "Oh fuck me! Shit!" he swore between gritted teeth as he rode out his orgasm, until he was finally spent, body collapsing back against the bed, he lay still as small tremors ran through him.

The entire time Sam was coming, Dean forced himself to keep his eyes open and watch. He was so fucking beautiful, so his... all his, Dean had no doubt of that now. Giving one last groan of satisfaction as he spent himself, Dean sat up again and wiped his hand on his tee shirt. He tasted blood on his lips, but it was his own, and that made him smile. "I didn't hurt you, I didn't..."

Sam smiled as he laid there, eyes closed, "Actually, I think you killed me," he chuckled softly as he slowly opened his eyes, looking into the monitor. "Dean?" he called to him softly, "Look at me." Sam told him, waiting for Dean to look at him and only him. "I love you," he said softly, gazing at Dean's face in the monitor.

"I know, Sam." He smiled. "Why else would you put up with me... this?" This had been the most intense experience of his lengthy life, but Sam's out-loud admission topped it. "Sam? I love you too."

Sam smiled wide at the monitor, before looking down at the mess on his stomach and hand. Arching his back he tugged the towel out so he could wipe off with it. He looked back at the monitor as he paused in mid-motion. "You wanna come lick this off too?" he asked Dean, quirking a brow and fighting back the snicker that threatened to spill over.

As if the image of Sam arching up like that wasn't enough, now he was teasing him. Dean didn't hide his groan. "You know I do. You also know teasing a vampire's not a good idea," he shook his head, feeling oddly sated and not at all dangerous at the moment. "You should cover up. Your aunt is coming to check on you."

Sam chuckled as he continued in motion, pulling the towel up, his back lowering to the bed as he cleaned up. His eyes suddenly flew back to the monitor, widened and shifted toward his door. "What!? She is!? Shit!" he swore softly, before pulling from the bed and hurrying toward the door, still completely naked.

One hand on the door knob, the other pressed against the wood of the door, Sam cracked the door open and peeked out, closing it with a huff before throwing the lock. Turning, Sam glared at the monitor. "You're such a liar."


Dean cracked up, laughing so hard you didn't have to be a vampire to hear him outside the open windows. "I did get a good look at that ass you were hiding, and now..." he cleared his throat, staring unabashedly at the full frontal view. "Damn... you're so fucking hot, and I'm not sorry." He crossed his arms, very amused. "Let me pick you up tomorrow morning. I think I can kiss you awake and ask for your forgiveness."

Sam crawled back into bed, laying on his stomach with his face turned to the camera. "Yeah? You think I'm hot, huh?" he grinned wider, wiggled his butt chuckling softly. “Kiss me awake? Mm... I like that idea." Taking a deep breath, Sam looked at Dean in the monitor, "I guess I shouldn't sleep naked for you then, huh? Wouldn't want you to ravish me before I'm awake to enjoy it."

He reached under his pillow with one hand and pulled out a pistol, dropping it into the bedstand drawer with a shrug, "I know it wouldn't hurt you, but it would sure spoil the mood if I shot you before I got that kiss."

Emulating one of Sam's knowing smiles, Dean merely said, "you'd never hurt me."

Crossing the room, he pulled out some new shorts and silently changed with his back to the camera, and then returned to sit. "You should sleep now. Will you leave your camera on?" Somehow, he wouldn't feel like he was alone if he could simply look up and see Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded, eyelids heavy. "Planned to." he murmured softly. Slowly pulling his arms up so his palms were flat against the mattress, elbows bent, Sam pushed himself up of the bed. He got a pair of boxers, slipped them on and returned to the bed, laying flat on his stomach. "Dean? I think you're beautiful," Sam said softly, his words slurring with sleep.

Most humans would think that, but knowing Sam felt that way still sent a warm feeling through Dean. It made him smile like he had everything he ever wanted.

Sam was silent for a few moments, before he spoke again, "Dean?" Sam raised his head, licked his lips, though his eyes remained closed as he brushed hair from his eyes and laid his head back down, "Next step is you... here. In my bed." He spoke so softly, only his vampire boyfriend could have heard him.

"Maybe," Dean answered, feeling very positive about it. "I think yes, Sam."

** *

The instant Cathleen's car left the driveway, Dean catapulted up into Sam's room, landing quietly. He watched Sam for a few moments, before turning his web cam off just in case one of the Cullens wandered into his room and got an eyeful on his computer. Then he went and sat on the edge of the bed, whispering. "It's me." It wasn't a good idea to startle either one of them, so he put the warning out and heard Sam's breathing pattern change, indicating to him that Sam was coming out of his sleep.

He'd wanted to crawl inside the bed for this, but what had seemed a good idea from the safety of his own room wasn't as great when he was right here with his boyfriend, who didn't have to do anything but breathe to drive him crazy. Slipping one arm under Sam's neck and cupping his head, Dean fitted his mouth over Sam's and kissed him lightly. The single touch sent a jolt of longing through the vampire. Pushing his tongue past Sam's unresisting lips, he started to kiss him properly, his tongue stroking and exploring... teasing Sam awake.

Sam sighed into the kiss, even before he realized what was happening, before his mind became fully awake, alert. He'd known, just known that it was Dean, though he didn't remember being shaken awake or hearing him announce his presence. Well, at least Dean hadn't done it in the way his dad usually did. Half yelling, telling him to get his ass up, and that he was there and there were things that needed killing.

Slowly, Sam's arms moved to encircle Dean's shoulders, pulling him closer as his tongue started moving against Dean's. A soft moan escaping him as he ran a hand up the back of Dean's neck, cupping his head, digits threading through his soft short hair.

Good, so good. Dean was careful to prevent Sam's tongue from getting too close to his fangs without his own tongue providing a buffer. Trying to concentrate on that while kissing the hell out of his boyfriend was hard. Experimentally, he sucked on Sam's tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Fuck, that sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock. He probably should stop now. He was stopping... he would be stopping...

Sam's hold around Dean tightened, his hips thrusting upward at the feel of Dean sucking on his tongue, his moan swallowed up by Dean's mouth on his. Sam pulled one hand from around Dean repositioning it under Dean's arm, lower as he wrapped it around Dean again, ran his hand down Dean's back, his other hand, fingers still threaded in Dean's hair.

Sam tugged on him, trying to pull him more into his bed, wanting more of him, wanting him next to him, near him, on top of him.

The instant Sam came awake and gave as good as he got, warning bells rang in the back of Dean's mind. He felt Sam struggle to pull him closer, such a demanding little human... He couldn't deny him. Slowly he moved, lowering his weight over Sam, whispering, "don't move too much, Sammy. Please, let's go slow." He wanted this as badly as Sam, but one of them had to be cautious, and it sure as hell wasn't Sam.

Breathing through parted lips, Sam looked at Dean through hooded eyes and nodded. He swallowed, "Okay." He said softly, before pulling his head up off the pillow reclaiming Dean's mouth with his own.

Tongue darting inside, Sam flicked his tongue against Dean's teasingly, before sucking Dean's tongue into his mouth, a soft moan leaving him. Sam's hands moved on Dean's body, the one on his back, caressing up and down. The hand in Dean's hair, flexed gently and unflexed as he pressed Dean down, forcing Dean’s mouth firmly against his own.

Fire. Sam was on fire and he was pretty sure it was a good way to die. His body ached with need as he arched back into Dean, his lungs burned with need for more air, but he didn't care, didn't listen as he just continued to kiss Dean for all he was worth, putting his all into it.

Dean groaned into Sam's mouth, arching into him, feeling his arousal pressing against his thigh. He remembered how Sam looked fully aroused, how he'd stroked himself, how he'd wanted to be the one stroking him. Slowly, he rolled off, his mouth still fused to Sam's, still kissing him. He ran his hand along the side of Sam's face, cupping it as he gave him one last hard kiss, then broke away. "You... you really need to breathe." He cleared his throat and stood up before Sam could tempt him some more, turning around, his eyes bright and clear. "That went well."

Sam's hands grabbed to hold onto Dean as he felt him begin to pull back, to pull away. No, don't go. It's okay. Please. Sam lay panting as he looked up at Dean, desire burning him alive, even as Dean put an end to it. With a huff, Sam licked his lips. "Yeah... well, all except for my blue balls."

"Blue? Really?" Dean sounded proud of himself. "Let me see."

Sam sat up on the edge of his bed. "Too late, you could have done a lot more than see, but you stopped." Sam grinned smugly at him, before pulling to his feet and walking toward the bathroom. "Maybe I'll just beat off in the shower," he called back over his shoulder, before closing the door behind him.

Dean was too happy at his success to even growl. "I'm listening," was his answer, as he sat back on the bed, and got under the cover, rearranging the pillow. He could still feel the warmth from Sam's body, and his scent clung to the bed sheets and pillows. Best of all, even though his craving never left him, it wasn't so sharp that he was afraid for Sam right now. No, he was having a really good day.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, wet hair clinging to his forehead as he walked to his dresser. He glanced over his shoulder at Dean inside his bed and grinned, "You like it? Might be better if I was in it with you." he told him, before looking back and pulling out clean clothes.

Sam had shaved, brushed his teeth and bathed in the showerless bathroom, but he hadn't done what he'd threatened though he wasn't going to admit it, not even if Dean asked. Though, he was pretty sure Dean would know if he had, probably would have heard him... or just plain been able to tell. Turning back around to face Dean, Sam quirked a brow and licked his lips. "Don't move." he told him, using the words Dean always used on him as he let the towel drop to the floor and prepared to put his boxers on.

"Prick-tease..." Dean whispered thickly, his gaze locked on Sam. "I used to laugh or roll my eyes at all the sex obsessed people whose minds I read. I think I’m one of them now. This is your fault."

Sam glanced up as he stepped into his boxers a slow smile spreading across his face as he shook his head. "Oh no, you can't blame this one on me. I was never a perv before you either. One person, remember?" He pulled his boxers up and grabbed for his jeans. "I think it's you... you and all those pornos you watch."

"I don't walk out of the house thinking pornos, I walk out thinking YOU." Dean nodded, watching as Sam put his jeans on. "Don't move."

He got out of the bed and moving behind Sam pulled his jeans the rest of the way up his body. Dragging Sam hard against his body, so Sam could feel his arousal, he whispered, "you're not the only one with blue balls."

He found Sam's zipper and pulled it up, closing his eyes at the sound. "One day I'll be opening it, just like that," he vowed, kissing Sam across the cheek before starting to move away. "You eat breakfast. I'll wait for you in the car."

Sam stilled, letting Dean do what he wanted, his head tilting back, lips parting with a soft moan as he felt Dean's arousal press against his backside. He pulled his head up, swallowing as he nodded at Dean’s promise.

His hand shot out to grasp Dean's shirt in his fist. "I'll eat breakfast and meet you in the car, like you want me to. But, one day," Sam shook his head, "I'm not gonna do that. You're going to be my breakfast. I'm gonna swallow everything you give me and come back for more," he told him softly, before letting go of Dean's shirt and reaching for his own.

"Oh God, Sam," Dean gave a strangled cry. "I hope so." With that, he was out the window, and standing leaning against his car in the cool air, trying to keep his mind off Sam for just a little while. He wanted the whole day to be a good one, not just part of it. He wanted to stay in control, but he wanted to flirt with danger... flirt with Sam too. Did that make him a fool. Yeah, big fucking fool. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked longingly at the house.

Sam finished dressing, grabbing his jacket before rushing down the stairs and going to the kitchen. After drinking a glass of orange juice, he grabbed a pop-tart, poured a travel mug of coffee and headed for the door not wanting to be away from Dean any longer than he had to be.

Pulling his jacket on, Sam shoved the pop-tart in his pocket, threw his back-pack over his shoulder and grabbed the travel mug he had sat down on the small table near the door then stepped outside, closing the front door behind him. Descending the steps, Sam smiled at Dean. "Fast enough?"

Dean pointed at him. "You haven't eaten." Not saying anything else, he got inside the car, and leaning across, opened the passenger side even though it was unlocked.

Sam looked up at the gray skies and sighed as he walked around the car, folding his tall frame into the car before closing the door. He looked over at Dean as he slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding his pop-tart. "Breakfast." Sam told him. "Coffee and a pop-tart, breakfast of champions."

"Watch the crumbs," Dean winked, and started the car. "Buckle up, not that I plan on an accident but it would be the irony of ironies. You survived me but not the drive." The joke was a bit bitter in his mouth so he moved on and talked about other things.

They were at school too fast. It was still a little early so Dean made no move to open the door. He looked over at Sam. "What do you dream about? Other than sex with me."

Sam frowned, a pop-tart bite in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and took a sip of coffee before shaking his head.

"Uh, nothing really... why?"

It wasn't like he was going to tell Dean about his nightmares about demons. No, those were something he wasn't sharing with anyone. He never told his father, he sure as hell wasn't telling his boyfriend.

"You know why." When Sam didn't answer, Dean continued. "Because I can't read your mind. Because it drives me crazy not knowing. Do you need another reason? Tell me." He noticed Sam worrying his lower lip, and straightened. "What's wrong? Sam?"

Sam released his lip, shook his head. "Nothing." he forced a smile, "I'm fine. Its fine." He toyed with the remains of his pop-tart, no longer meeting Dean's gaze. "So, are you gonna tell me if you have another daydream?" he asked, glancing up and quirking a brow, the corner of his lips quirked up in a half smirk.

"I'll you anything you want," he said pointedly. He wouldn't forget this, he'd ask again later. Get to the bottom of what was bothering Sam about his innocuous question.

Dean might have said more, but a car pulled up next to his. "Oh, you're about to be asked to go to a birthday party, by several people. It's a surprise party for your friend, Mike. You should go." He opened his door.

Sam looked from Dean out the window and back, but Dean was already getting out. Sam scrambled to open his own door and step out, looking across the top at Dean, "Will you go with me?" Sam asked him, just before Stacy and three other girls walked over along with Tom.

"Dude! Party! It's for Mike. You gotta be there." Tom told him, glancing at Dean before leaning in to whisper in Sam's ear, "You can bring your man." Tom pulled away grinning and waggling his brows at Sam.

"Yeah, Sam, you should come to the party." Stacy told him, glancing at Dean with a none too friendly look before she looked back at Sam. "I'll be there... and so will Becky. She draws really well. You should let her draw you sometime." Stacy smirked as she glanced again at Dean then looked back at Sam. "I'll go with you if you're shy."

Sam looked from his friends back to Dean, waiting for his answer. After a moment of Dean not saying anything, Sam looked down at Stacy and shook his head, "I don't think--"

"Come on, man! It's Mike!" Tom interrupted him.

Sam looked back at Dean, biting his lip.

Dean scanned a few minds and found out it was at the beach that he often went to late at night. He nodded at Sam, ignoring the rest. They were right, he didn't really give a shit who they were or what they thought.

Sam looked back over at Tom, and nodded with a grin, "We'll be there."

Tom let out a whoop and grabbed up one of the girls kissing her soundly, just because he could. "Cool, dude. I'll set ya up with the directions and time and shit later." Tom told him, before walking off with all the girls save one following after him.

Stacy gave Sam a look of disgust and shook her head, then turned with her nose in the air and walked off in another direction.

Sam looked back at Dean chuckling, "Pissed her off."

"She wants your eight inches." He gave Sam a grin. "Ballpark. And it's enough to satisfy a Cullen, in case you’re wondering."

Sam grinned and looked at the ground, blushing a light shade of pink. Looking back up, he quirked a brow, licked his lips, "You think it'll do, eh? Might need to test that theory soon." Sam waggled his eyebrows at Dean, before pulling his backpack from the car and closing the door.

"Might." He waited for Sam and then they headed inside the building. "See you in class." Starting to walk away, he turned suddenly and whispered into Sam's ear. "I kiss you hard, pressing your back against those lockers, sliding my tongue in and out of your mouth until Stacy and her artist friend fucking faint at our feet and get the message."

Face as serene as if he'd just talked about the weather, Dean pulled back and walked away, leaving a stunned Sam to give his excuses for the way he was looking.

* * *

Sam parked the Impala beside Tom's Mustang, as he pushed the send button on his cell phone and waited for Dean to pick up. No answer. Sam sighed, frowning. "Uh, hey, it's me. Listen, they moved the party. It's at La Push now. Same time, same situation apparently. Yeah, bring your own booze." Sam snickered softly, "Guess that doesn't really apply to you. Well, I'll see ya soon." Sam was quiet for a moment as he bit his lip, "Yeah, okay, bye." Closing his cell, he looked out the window of the Impala for a few moments before reaching for the door handle and opening it, sliding from behind the wheel.

"Sam! Dude!" It was Tom, and apparently he was already well on his way to a good buzz.

Sam reached into the car and grabbed the bottle of Jack, before straightening and closing the door.

Tom's eyes lit up at the sight of the bottle of Jack, "Ooh, Sam Winchester doesn't play around with his booze!"

Sam looked down at the Jack in his hand and back to Tom with a shrug, "If I want a quick buzz." he waggled the bottle. His great aunt had a stash of liquor that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. That was much easier than getting an older person to buy some.


Cars started pulling up at the beach as teenagers rolled out. A couple of the guys built some fires. It wasn't raining, and if they were lucky, it wouldn't for a while. Beers were passed around and someone started to blare some music.

Stacy zeroed in on Sam, always standing near him and reminding him what she'd said about the Cullens. "I'm not saying it to hurt you, you know that," she said, moving close and trying to steal some of the warmth of his body. "That's how all the Cullens are, they only care about each other. You can't pretend what goes on in that house isn't sick... even if you have it bad for Dean Cullen, come on Sam, you know what I'm talking about."

A few others chimed in with their opinions. The most vocal ones agreed that Dean was probably using Sam, but didn't really give a shit about him. That he'd retreat back to his family when he got tired of playing around. A couple others kept pointing out he wasn't even here. That he never came to parties and that he wouldn't for Sam either.

One or two spoke up for Dean, but they didn't really know him and were quickly beaten down.

Then the fireside dancing started, and very few people were left standing around.

Sam had uncapped the Jack when everyone started talking about Dean and how he was just using him. How he wasn't going to show up, not even for him. With a sigh, Sam pulled out his cell as he brought the bottle up to his lips again and took a long pull.

Scrolling down to Dean's number he called, and again there was no answer. Closing his cell, Sam tucked it back into his pocket and took another drink.

"See? He's not going to show, Sam. I'm sorry." Stacy, who had been dancing with the birthday boy was now standing beside him again. He looked down at her, but didn't say anything, only took another drink, stepping around her to walk away.

"Why don't you let it go, Sam!? There are plenty of girls who would treat you better than this! Hell, there's a lot of guys if that's what you want!" she called after him.

Sam turned around glaring at her, though he continued to walk backward away from her. After a moment he turned around again and continued walking away from the fires, walking along the waters edge.

Trevor had been watching from the cliffs. He wasn't much for parties, or for outsiders, but there was one exception. That tall boy, the one his family had tried to fix up with Kim... something about him got under Trevor's skin. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. And here he was... just like the last time when he'd been thinking about him before dawn, and he'd appeared. It had to mean something, it had to.

He scrambled down the face of the cliff, dropping down on the sand and heading toward the lone figure walking away from the party with a bottle in his hand. "Hey, hey Sam, wait up," he shouted, running toward him.

Sam glanced over, toward the voice to find Kim's brother, the one that freaked him the hell out, hurrying toward him. Damn it all. Sam sighed, though he stopped walking, waiting to see what the guy wanted. "What is it, Trevor?" Sam asked him, his words starting to slur drunkenly.

"Thought I'd..." A dark look crossed Trevor's features. "You stink like Cullens." He spat on the ground, dark eyes blazing with jealousy and hatred. "Which one touched you?"

Sam eyed the guy, frowning before taking another long pull from the bottle, nearly emptying it. "I don't see were that's any of your business." Turning, he started to walk away, staggering drunkenly. Once more, he lifted the bottle to his lips, draining it, before wiping the back of his hand across his lips. He huffed as he looked at the empty bottle, he'd drank the whole damn thing. Just went to show how upset he was apparently. Normally two beers and he was singing karaoke.

In two steps, Trever caught up to him and gripping his arm, swung him around. "It's Dean Cullen, isn't it? He's the only one who isn't fucking another Cullen. Why do you stink of him?" The instant he released Sam, Sam started to stumble. Trevor caught him again. "He's sick, he's disgusting, and now he's doing dirty things with you. Does he bite you?" He wanted the answer to be yes, he wanted it so damned bad. Cause that would be the end of the Cullens. It would be war.

Glaring, Sam shrugged out of Trevor's grip and almost fell over in the process. He only caught himself, by using Trevor to lean on, hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, grinning suddenly, "Dean Cullen doesn't bite me. He doesn't do anything to me." Sam started laughing for no reason. "I have a boyfriend I can't even fuck." He laughed harder, staggering backward to land on his ass in the sand, but it didn't stop the fit of giggling laughter that seemed to have overtaken him. He laid back in the sand laughing, his eyes filling with tears.

"He's not your boyfriend," Trevor shouted, uncontrollable fury taking a grip on him. He started to shake, but fought off the change. Instead, he gripped Sam and dragged him toward the water. "I'm going to wash that Cullen stink off you. You're never going near him again, you fucking got that? He is bad medicine. Dark. Evil," with each word, he pulled Sam deeper into the freezing cold water of the ocean.

Sam had kept laughing until the cold water hit him, now he was frowning and struggling against Trevor's hold. He reached for the knife in the ankle holster he wore, but for some reason he couldn't seem to figure out how to reach it. Of course, he also couldn't seem to get his legs to work very well either. Yeah....way too much Jack.
"Trevor, stop!"

"Not until you're clean," he snarled, pushing Sam under the water and roughly scrubbing his body. That scent... it was still on him, on his face, coming from his breath. "Bastard... bastard touched you like that." Putting his hand on top of Sam's head, he pushed him completely under, holding him there as waves crashed over them. Even if Sam hadn't been drunk, he wouldn't have a chance... none. It was how it should be, Sam needed to know his place... his place was where Trevor said it should be.

I AM CLEAN! the yelled thought sat at the tip of Sam's tongue, but he never got to say it. Instead, he struggled against Trevor, tried to pry his hands off him, tried to push him away. Sam grunted at the rough handling, started swearing under his breath only to have water in his mouth and up his nose for his efforts.

He fought for air, fought to get free. His lungs were burning and not like when Dean kissed him for too long, this was a different kind of burn, painful and frightening. He thrashed under the water, fighting to surface, to gulp in air, but Trevor held fast.

Sam kicked, arms flailing, tried to punch at Trevor, but only felt empty water. Why was no one helping him? Were they not paying any attention? Didn't they see him? Was this freak really gonna kill him?

"Wash him off... wash his fucking scent off," Trevor ranted, his voice hardly audible due to the roar of the waves. When he finally pulled Sam up out of the water, when he deemed him 'clean enough,' he carried him back to shore. "Mine." Without setting him down, he crushed his mouth against Sam's in a bruising kiss intended to show him who was alpha, and who was the bitch.

Sam coughed and sputtered ocean water, but just when he thought he might finally be free of Trevor, he found his lips crushed under Trevor's and the guys tongue in his mouth.
Sam's eyes widened as he struggled, tried to shove him away, tried to break the kiss, to turn his head.

Somewhere in Sam's mind he suddenly realized his feet weren't touching the ground, which was odd for him to say the least. At six foot four, full grown as he was, he hadn't been picked up by anyone in years... unless it was a demon or spirit doing the lifting.

His hands doubled into fists where they sat on Trevor's shoulders as he continued to squirm, pushing against him, trying to get away. With no other way coming to mind, he used the trick he'd seen a million girls use and brought his knee up hard, connecting with Trevor's groin.

"Fucking bastich," Trevor shouted, dropping Sam and covering his groin. He started to shake and shudder, his eyes grew red, "get away, go... go," he snarled, trying to hold his shape, trying to hold it before he killed Sam.

Sam stared at Trevor but at the guy’s snarled words, Sam remembered the whole reason for the harsh move. Get away. Stumbled to his feet, he ran the whole way back to his car, quickly climbing in.

It wasn't until Sam was driving away from La Push that he realized he was shivering, his teeth chattering, salt water dripping from his hair onto his face and running into his eyes.

He drove home at speeds no sober person had a right to be driving at, let alone someone as drunk as as him. Thankfully, he only saw one other car on the road, and it wasn't a cop.

Pulling into his aunts driveway, Sam turned off the car and sat back in the seat with a sigh, still shaking with cold, hair still dripping. A few moments later, he opened the door, slid from behind the wheel and staggered to the front door and inside, falling at least three times as he climbed the stars to his room. Finally making it inside his room. He locked the door and leaned his forehead against it.

"Sam, you shouldn't be driving drunk," Dean said, pushing away from the window he'd been leaning against. He'd noticed that Sam parked the car cock-eyed and heard him stumbling. As he walked toward him, the smell of salt water and a stench he couldn't stand hit him.

Sam turned his head to look at Dean, glaring, a hard frown marring his face. He watched Dean as he walked over like nothing was wrong, like he hadn't stood him up, like he hadn't almost been drowned, like he hadn't been man handled and kissed and....

"What have you done?" Dean asked, reaching out and grabbing at Sam's wet clothes. "Swimming drunk, Sam?" The level of his alarm was rising by the second.
"Fuck you! What do you care!?" Sam spat at him, as he pushed away from the door, away from Dean, staggering toward his bed. Only his hand out in front of him kept Sam from falling onto it.

"Sam." Dean grabbed him. "You can't go to bed like that. You're fucking freezing. Come on... these have to come off and you're taking a hot shower. Sam? You can't be THAT drunk." Dean's mouth tightened in disapproval as he started to undress him.

Sam shoved at Dean's hands, "Stop it! I've already been man handled once tonight." Sam huffed, before crawling onto his bed and collapsing, face down.

"I am not manhandling you, dammit." A cold fear blossomed in Dean's belly. He sat down on the bed, undecided. "Dammit Sam, tell me. What happened? Did someone do something to you." He sniffed the putrid smell again, annoyed but another fear taking precedence. "Sam!"