The Center Canít Hold
Angyl & Rina
Sam Winchester sighed and rubbed his tired eyes before returning his gaze to his laptop screen where the search engine heíd created was grinding away, looking for his specified parameters for this weekís hunt de jour. The laptop screen was currently the sole source of light in the room and cast an eerie blue glow over the contents of the shabby motel room. Glancing over to the bed, Sam could see his older brother sleeping peacefully away, looking for all intents and purposes like a quiescent child instead of the far too mature and cynical man that their life had created. For once Dean hadnít even stirred when Sam had gotten up out of bed and booted up the almost antiquated piece of technology that they used for most of their research.
His brother had been absolutely exhausted when they pulled into the motel, which was less than a day away from their final destination. He had been hunting non-stop with Dad for the past few months while Sam had spent most of that time in class, finishing up his last year of high school, something Dean had lobbied hard for on Samís behalf. Even now, after everything else theyíd become, Dean still faithfully threw himself in the role of older brother protector, a role heíd assumed from the day their mother had been killed by the demon, even when it meant butting heads with their father over what was best for Sam. Too damned bad Dean never bothered to take the same sort of care with himself, but that was for Sam to do, which was why he was awake at four oíclock in the morning, working on finding as much information as he could for their hunt while Dean slept on.
Sam ran a hand over his face again and stifled his growl of frustration. Dad had given them next to nothing to go on. A haunted campground in the middle of Maine, ghostly faces and tattoos drummed on car roofs by invisible fingers werenít a hell of a lot of information, but then again Sam had had less and had still come up with the goods when he needed too. He just hoped that this would be an easy hunt. Their father had given them a seven day limit to finish the job and Sam intended to have everything wrapped up in less than three days so he could spend the remaining five getting Dean to relax and rest up.
There was a soft noise from the bed and Dean sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, though there was an air of alertness about him. "Sammy, what the hell are you doing; itís four in the morning," he grumbled.
"Just getting a head start on the research," Sam replied with a quick smile. "Go back to sleep, Dean, youíre exhausted. Which you wouldnít be if youíd let me drive," he added, not able to resist getting in that jab. Sometimes Sam thought that Dean would rather sacrifice a limb rather than let anyone else touch his baby. It was kind of amusing really.
"Oh, please," Dean snorted, leaning back on his elbows and looking at Sam down the length of his body, "it took me long enough to get Dad to give me the Impala, you think Iím trusting you to drive it?"
"You trust me enough to fuck your ass stupid," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Why wouldnít you trust me with your car?"
"Because you arenít going to scratch my ass up or dent my bumpers, are you?" Dean chuckled before patting the bed beside him. "Címon, bedís getting cold."
"I seem to recall more than a few gouges placed on your ass when things got a little out of control," Sam snorted. "As for denting your bumpers, been there, done that and youíve worn the bruises to prove it," the younger man finished, his smug smile giving Deanís a run for its money.
Turning back to his laptop, Sam typed in a few more words to narrow down his search even further and then got up and stretched, listening to the vertebrae in his back shift and pop before ambling back over to the bed where his brother was splayed ever so enticingly. "Are you trying get me back into bed in order to have your wicked way with me, Dean? Corrupt me and possibly commit incest with me? For shame."
Dean reached out and hooked a finger in Samís belt loop, pulling him onto the bed, half on top of him, enjoying the weight across him and the knowledge as to how Sam had filled out in the months theyíd been apart. "I have no shame and you know it, Sammy," he chuckled, sliding his hands around the younger manís waist to cup his ass. "You know it and you love it."
Groaning, Sam melted under Deanís assault. "For the umpteenth time, itís Sam not Sammy. God, youíre such a jerk. Whyíd I ever seduce you into fucking me in the first place Iíll never know. Oh wait, thatís right, I was beyond horny, desperate to lose my virginity and you were the only one around who was marginally decent to look at," Sam retorted.
"Marginally decent?" Dean asked, his eyebrows rising before he flipped Sam under him and grinned down at him. "Thatís not what you said before, in fact, I remember you begging for my hot bod."
"Like I said, horny and desperate. Any stiff dick would do at that point," Sam chortled. "I guess it was a good thing we werenít staying with Caleb or Bobby by that point, hunh?"
Dean gagged and rolled off Sam. "Oh, thatís disgusting! No way any part of me is getting stiff now."
Sam chuckled, low and wicked, and followed Dean so that he was lying on top of the other man. "Youíre absolutely sure youíre not gonna get it up now?" he purred as he licked a path from one of Deanís nipples up to his neck where Sam began to nibble lightly. Grinding his hips down against Deanís, he lapped his way up a tanned and taut throat before claiming those fuck me lips with his own, sliding his tongue into Deanís mouth. It was only when oxygen became necessary that Sam pulled back, grinning as he felt Deanís cock pressing hard into his thigh.
"I have to admit, once I got over the whole ĎI want my big brother to fuck meí thing it was pretty damned hot," he whispered into Deanís ear as he shifted, rocking his hips back and forth in subtle rhythm. "The way it felt, your fingers sliding into me, stretching me and getting me ready for you. You lubed me up and all the while you were whispering those dirty words in my ear, telling me what to do, how to move, ordering me to relax. And then your cock sliding into me for the first time, hot, hard and God, it hurt so good, Dean. You were big, thick, and it felt like you were so far inside me that you were gonna burst out of my throat."
"You moaning and gasping under me, writhing like you didnít know if you wanted more or less of me," Dean purred, his hands flexing on Samís ass, fingertips tracing the seam of his jeans over his crack. "And should I mention how you pretty much passed out when you came?"
"No, fuckwad, you shouldnít," Sam snarled without heat, smacking Dean upside the head and then reluctantly heaved himself off of his brother. "But seeing as how youíre certain youíre not getting hard again tonight I might as well go back to my research. Itís not like Iíve got any thing else to entertain me now that Iím up," the younger Winchester taunted.
"Well, if youíre that hard up, I suppose I could always settle back here and let you go for it; take one for the team."
Sam burst into peals of laughter. "Right, youíre just gonna lie there and take it like a man, hunh? Pull the other one, Dean."
"Which one is it you want me to pull?"
"God, could you be any more of an asshole if you tried?" Sam muttered under his breath even as he began to strip out of the jeans heíd pulled on when heíd gotten out of bed earlier. "Arrogant, pushy, so full of yourself your eyes should be shit colored... it baffles me why I keep coming back for more of this abuse. I mean I already get enough Ďlittle brotherí shit, do I have to get it when weíre in bed too?" the younger man groused as he clambered on top of Dean and sealed his mouth over the older manís if for no other reason then to shut him up.
"You know, just for that Iím gonna fuck you into the floor," Sam remarked casually as they came up for air before latching on to his favorite part of Deanís neck. Sam bit and worried the flesh there wanting nothing more than to see his mark on Dean, a tangible sign that yes, Sam Winchester had been there.
Dean chuckled, though the sound turned into a needy moan when Sam bit him again. "Yeah, I sort of figured that was the plan," he gasped, twisting to grind his cock against Samís, his fingers digging into Samís back as they writhed together.
"Gotta make sure you remember who you belong to," Sam muttered as one hand scrambled on the bedside table looking for the lube that had migrated there from Deanís bag almost the moment theyíd finished laying the salt lines and securing the room for the night. In fact, Dean had been rummaging for the damned stuff even as heíd checked in with Dad to let him know they were safe for the night, which had caused Samís face to heat as if their father could see what his eldest son was doing over the phone line.
Finally snagging the tube after more blind fumbling, Sam slithered down the bed, ignoring Deanís protests. When he was mouth level with Deanís cock, Sam looked up through obscenely long lashes and watched the reaction as his tongue laved a path from balls to head and then sealed his mouth over its tip and began to suckle, humming happily as Dean started to moan and writhe beneath him. Shifting around, Sam soon had Deanís legs on his shoulders and one lube slick finger sliding in and out of Deanís ass, fucking him lightly.
"Christ, Sammy, more," Dean moaned, twisting between Samís hand and mouth, his fingers threading through Samís longish hair, yanking his head downward so that he swallowed more of Deanís cock.
Sam made an amused sound, the vibration traveling along Deanís cock even as he added a second finger to the older manís ass. Twisting and rocking his fingers, Sam sought after and found Deanís prostate and began to brush against it mercilessly even as he let his mouth drag along Deanís pride and joy eliciting some very interesting noises from above him.
Dean shuddered, his back arching off the bed as his balls tightened. "Fuck, Sammy, keep that up and Iím going to come," he rasped.
Drawing his mouth back, Samís lips made an obscene smacking noise as they were pulled off of Deanís cock. "Thatís the general idea, Dean," the younger man purred before diving back down and taking as much of Dean as he could manage in one mouthful.
Oh yeah, he wanted to make Dean come, fuck him until he got hard again and then maybe take a leisurely ride until they both came again. Sam wanted Dean mindless, begging and speaking only Samís name. It was a side of the teenager that rarely came out, this possessive, jealous streak, but it was out tonight and Dean was gonna reap the benefits of Samís mood in no uncertain terms.
"Asshole," Dean muttered before groaning, his hands fisting in Samís hair as he bucked upwards, giving in to Samís skills and losing himself in the hot suction around his cock.
"Mmm hmmm," Sam agreed as he continued to suck and lick and tease Dean for all that he was worth. A third finger joined the two inside of Deanís ass, adding pressure and friction. Sam could taste the bitter salt of his brotherís precome on his tongue and knew that Dean was close. A few more swipes of his tongue and a little more playing with his ass would be all it would take.
"Oh, fuck, Sammy!" Dean howled, thrashing around under Sam, his whole body tensing as he came.
Greedy, Sam swallowed as fast as he could, determined to catch every drop of Deanís come. He continued to suckle until Deanís groans grew faint and he felt hands shove weakly at his shoulders to get him to let go.
Sitting back on his haunches, Sam licked his lips and traced a finger up his chest, neck and chin, gathering up the escaped come before popping it into his mouth and lapping at it with a heated moan. "Fuck, you taste amazing," the younger man purred as he watched the almost insensate man beneath him through pleasure heavy eyes.
Crawling up Deanís body until he was hovering over him, Sam relaxed his arms enough to lower himself down and kissed Dean hard, driving his tongue inside his mouth in order to share Deanís taste with him. "Gonna fuck you now, Dean, get you hard again and then leave you wanting until I get my ride. What do you think of that?"
Dean groaned, dragging his arms up around Samís waist and pulling him close, feeling Samís erection dig into the hollow of his hip. "I say go for it, dude," he murmured, giving a languorous smile as he squirmed under Samís weight.
"What a shock," Sam chuckled with a roll of his eyes. "Youíre such a dog, Dean, good thing I happen to be the one reaping the benefits." Snagging the lube once again, Sam quickly slicked himself up and, shifting his hips and slotting himself into place between Deanís legs, slid inside with a smooth thrust.
"What can I say?" Dean chuckled, rolling his hips under Samís before hooking his legs around Samís ass. "I know what I like and what I want."
"Yeah, yeah you do," Sam twisted his hips and circled them as he pulled out and then shoved back in a little more harshly than before. "God, you feel so good," he gasped as he picked up speed, close to the edge already due to the taste and sound of Dean coming. "God, gonna fuck you, fuck you so hard, love you so damned much, Dean," Sam gasped slamming harder and harder.
Dean nodded, dragging Sam in for a hungry kiss as they slammed together, their bodies slapping together as he clenched down on Samís cock. "Same here, Sammy," he rasped, sliding his hands down to cup and knead Samís ass.
"Youíd fucking better," Sam rasped, biting lightly on Deanís lower lip and then licking the small hurt. "Oh fuck, Iím not gonna last long," he groaned driving harder and harder, "fuck, Dean, need you."
"Iím yours, Sammy," Dean whispered, "all yours, always, so take me."
"God," Sam gasped and gave in to the need to drive into Dean hard and fast. Heíd never get tired of this feeling, of being inside Dean, of Deanís scent and taste and the knowledge that he was the one who Dean wanted to be with, wanted to belong to. Christ, so close, a few more strokes and... "Fuck, DEAN!!!!" Samís spine went ramrod straight as his orgasm ripped from the base of his skull all the way down and out of his cock in white hot pulses of pure bliss.
Dean kept his eyes locked on Samís, watching the younger man as he came, loving the look of total pleasure and abandon on Samís face as he rode out his orgasm. "Thatís it, all mine, always," he murmured.
"Yes," Sam hissed, his arms giving out from exhaustion and sending him crashing down onto Deanís body. "Oh Christ, Dean, that was... fan-fucking-tastic," he sighed and then broke into a grin as he felt the older manís renewed erection digging into his hip. "Didnít take you long, did it?"
"Hey, Iím twenty-two and Iíve got a hot lover, can you blame me?" Dean chuckled.
"Iím not about to complain," Sam chuckled. "Especially since Iím getting some on a semi-regular basis. Give me a few minutes and then Iíll be more than happy to take care of that for you."
Dean smirked and rolled them over so that Sam was pinned under him. "How about you just stay right there and Iíll take of myself." He pulled back, shifting himself to between Samís legs and grabbed for the lube.
"Is this where I lie back and think of England?" Sam smirked.
"This is where you lie back and think of how damn good I am at this."
"Excuse me?" Sam snorted indignantly. "I think I need to go out and get empirical evidence of the fact. After all, your word is shit."
"And just who do you plan on picking up to try this out with?" Dean asked, pressing a slicked up finger into Samís ass.
"Someone cute, hot, and with a big dick," Sam groaned, arching his back slightly and spreading his legs a little wider to allow Dean better access.
"Youíve got that here, why accept second best?"
"Lack of proof of your boast for one," Sam smirked. "For all I know you could be small. If thatís the case I really need to see what average or above average would be."
"You telling me you never looked at any other guys in gym class? Sammy, Iím ashamed," Dean purred, adding a second finger and rubbing them over Samís prostate.
"Oh fucking hell," Sam groaned, writhing on Deanís fingers. "And of course I looked, you shithead, but letís face it, they werenít exactly aroused for a comparison, and I wasnít about to offer to give them a hand, even if I could kick their collective asses without so much as getting a scratch."
"Poor baby," Dean crooned, "how did you ever survive?"
"Came home and fucked you blind in order to relieve my frustrated desires at all those gorgeous jocks. Arenít you glad you were a convenient hole, I mean arenít you glad you were there to benefit from my attention?"
"Christ, Sammy, and you say Iím cold," Dean sighed, lubing up his cock and pushing into Samís ass.
Sam snickered but the sound rapidly morphed into a hungry moan as Dean buried himself to the balls inside him. "Fuck, youíre the only one Iíve ever wanted to have in my ass, you moron. You think Iíd let just anyone fuck me stupid?" he panted, wrapping his long legs around Deanís back and using the heels of his feet to try and force the other man just a little bit deeper.
"Well, I donít know about before me, considering you can be an idiot at times," Dean gasped, holding himself still, "but now? No way."
"Will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already?" Sam groaned exasperatedly, not bothering to point out yet again that Dean had been the first and only guy to ever get inside his ass. Sometimes Deanís ego had Sam wanting to gag the older man any way he could, usually with Samís cock as the gag, but the logistics were impossible at the moment. Pressing down harder with his heels, Sam arched upwards and bit the base of Deanís neck hard, hoping to spur him on. "Move your goddamned ass, dude, youíre not getting any younger here."
Dean rocked his hips shallowly, all the while grinning down at Sam. "Second round, man, time to enjoy a nice, long ride."
"Son of a bitch," Sam moaned, his legs climbing higher onto Deanís back and settling in comfortably for the promised long ride. "Good thing you donít let me drive, I can get some sleep while you drive."
"Good thing Dadís not here," Dean chuckled, continuing the slow, shallow motion, "heíd start ragging on you, wondering why a full nightís sleep wasnít enough rest."
"I canít remember the last time I got a full nightís sleep when you were around and Dad wasnít," Sam retorted with a grin. "Not to mention you dragging me out to the car for quickies once heís gone to sleep. You know, they have help for people like you, right, twelve step programs for sex addicts."
"But that would mean admitting I had a problem; which I donít."
"Of course not, youíre Dean Winchester, demon killing bad ass," Sam mocked playfully, tugging Dean down for another kiss. "Well, okay, the ass part I can see..."
"Best one youíll ever see, though yours comes a close second," Dean chuckled once he could speak again though he never let up on his slow thrusts.
"Bite me," Sam started to growl only to have his voice transform his words into an embarrassingly needy sound that had the color rising in his cheeks. Fuck, Dean was gonna crucify him for that one, Sam just knew it. Of course, it didnít help that the bastard had scored a direct hit on his prostate and was even now raking the head of his cock over it, forcing more of those noises to emerge from Samís throat no matter how hard he tried to stop them from escaping.
"Think I will," Dean smirked, leaning in to close his teeth on Samís shoulder, leaving a perfect set of imprints once he pulled off and noting that Samís moans gained a new pitch with that move.
"Fuck. Just, fuck!" Sam arched and his eyes slid shut as a full body shudder raced through him. God, he loved it when Dean did that, left a physical reminder of this, of himself, on Samís skin. Sam knew heíd be feeling that one for days, although heíd have to be careful not to take his shirt off when Dad was around.
"That the best you can do, pussy?" he taunted after gaining some semblance of control. "Thought you were supposed to be Ďthe bestí. So far, Iím not so impressed. Youíre sliding into mediocrity right now."
Dean snorted, though his voice had deepened in response to Samís reactions. "Yeah, thatís why you just about shot off like a rocket just now, but to keep you from getting bored..." He slid a hand up Samís chest and pinched his nipples, playing with them as he sped up his strokes, driving into Samís ass and making him shudder beneath him.
"B-better," Sam gasped, writhing under Deanís ministrations. "God, Dean," he managed to get out before he lost all semblance of coherency. His body was on fire and his brain was on overload.
Sam was swimming in sensation, the feel of Dean in his ass, his hot breath on Samís neck, his hands on his chest, the scent of them, all musk, sex and the leather smell that was an intrinsic part of Dean. Sam loved losing himself like this, wallowing in Dean, in the two of them fucking until they passed out from pleasure. He forgot everything but Dean in him and around him, until there was only the two of them and the bed underneath them, the world fading away to nothingness.
"Thatís it, Sammy," Dean urged, twisting his hips before kissing Sam again, devouring his mouth and losing the battle to keep from coming the moment he felt Sam spasm beneath him, sending wet fire gouting over his stomach.
His orgasm left him worn out and boneless, and he nuzzled Samís neck as he shifted to the side to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around the younger manís body.
"I gotcha, Dean," Sam promised softly, kissing his temple before shifting and finding a comfortable, not to mention dry spot, on the bed then following Dean into sleep.
"Turn should be on the left hand side about a mile up the road. Itís called Shady Groves. Sounds like something out of a campy horror movie actually. Looks like weíre going to be roughing it for the next few nights until we figure out whatís going on. Good thing the camping gear didnít get destroyed the last time we used it. What were we after then? Some sort of were, wasnít it?"
"Yeah, bear type," Dean sighed before groaning. "Fuck, I hate camping; give me a ghost in the city, anything to stay away from this back to nature crap."
"Hey, at least we have an excuse to share a sleeping bag this way," Sam smirked, "it gets cold at night still. Gotta conserve body heat."
"You looking forward to giving the ghost a shot of your bony white ass when it peeks in at us?" Dean asked, glancing to the side to grin at Sam.
"Only goes to prove Iíve got the better ass if itís mine they wanna gawk at it," Sam replied mildly, not raising his head from the map.
Dean snickered. "Nah, but them seeing it would scare them enough to banish them so it would save us a hell of a lot of work." He steered the Impala down the rutted road leading to the campsite, snarling each time the shocks jounced. "So what did you manage to find last night? Anything?"
Without even looking Sam reached out and smacked the back Deanís head. "Not a helluva lot. A bunch of teenagers were going to camp out and party a bit. They got there and had started to unpack when everything went batshit. Faces in the woods, car engines dying, batteries being drained and then someone using the roof of their car for a drum until theyíd managed to restart the engine and hightail it out of there."
"That thing touches my car, Iím gonna get really pissed," Dean growled as they pulled up to the office.
"Then weíd better find them before they find us so that your baby doesnít get hurt," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Do me a favor, stay in the car, let me handle the check in."
"Why? So you can pay what they ask?" Dean grumbled, turning up the stereo as Sam got out of the car and headed up the worn steps toward the building that amounted to little more than a shack.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Sam muttered, shooting a dirty look back towards the car as he climbed the steps to the office. "Itís not like itís ours to begin with, Ed Flanders," he called out before heading into the office in order to register them.
Stirring the baked beans one more time, Sam flipped the burgers out onto two plates and then dished up the rest of the meal before calling out for Dean. "Yo, stop jerking off in the woods and get back here, dinnerís ready."
"Hey, I was making like a bear," Dean commented as he reappeared, fastening his belt. "And may I say, you make a lovely little cook, Sammy."
"So you were shitting in the woods?" Sam retorted, flipping Dean off as he fished out some cutlery for each of them. "You buy me an apron and youíre never getting any ever again, Ďcoz you wonít have any equipment to do anything with. I guarantee."
"Like you could ever take me that way," Dean snorted, dropping down beside him and taking the plate he offered.
"Donít get too cocky, short stuff, because Iíve kicked your ass on more than one occasion," Sam grinned, digging into his own meal. "So, how you wanna play this tonight? Are we gonna act like idiot campers and sucker them in or are we hitting them first?"
"Hard to hit them first when we donít know where they are," Dean commented after swallowing the bite heíd taken. "Or what they are, so I say act like idiots; wonít be too hard Iím sure."
"For you anyways," Sam agreed, taking a swig from his can of Pepsi. "Better keep the guns next to the sleeping bag and under the pillows for easy access. We gonna lay salt lines inside the tent or just let Ďem in?"
"Doesnít do much good to keep Ďem out, does it?"
"Probably not but I donít want them getting too up close and personal either," Sam replied, finishing his meal with a happy sigh. "I cooked, you get to do the dishes. Have fun," he grinned, standing up and heading over to his pack for the book on ancient Latin exorcism ceremonies that he was currently reading.
"Gee, thanks dear, love you too," Dean snorted as he gathered up the dirty dishes and carried them over to the pump to scrub at them, too well-trained by their father to ignore them.
"So," he commented, dropping down to the ground beside Sam after he was done cleaning up, "reading anything good?"
"Found a new exorcism that could be helpful if we ever run across a vengeful warlock," Sam grinned, setting the book aside and shifting until his head was in Deanís lap. "Iíve booked the campground for a week so I figure we could stay for a few extra days once weíve wasted these fuckers and just relax and recharge. Dadís not expecting us back until next week and thereís a lake just down that road. Weíre pretty much the only ones in the campground right now because of the haunting. We could go skinny dipping."
"You arenít worried about burning your ass?" Dean asked, reaching over and plucking the book from Samís hands to look at the incantation. "And if weíre staying here, Iím getting some beer."
"We can go shopping once we toast our ghosts," Sam agreed, closing his eyes and getting comfortable. "In case you havenít noticed, my ass is tanned, Dean, no way itís gonna burn. Yours on the other hand..."
"Tanning your ass... what do they teach you kids these days?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Sam smirked, rolling over onto his stomach, pressing his face against Deanís crotch and then running his tongue along the fly before looking up at Dean through thick lashes.
"You really do want those ghosts to see your ass, donít you?" Dean grinned, stroking a hand through Samís dark hair.
"Is it my fault that Iíve got an ass worthy of admiration by everything living and dead?" Sam mumbled moving upwards and pushing the hem of Deanís tee shirt up with a hand so he could dip his tongue into the other manís navel before rolling onto his back once more with his head planted on a well-muscled thigh. "But since you donít seem to want it exposed to the world Iíll just have to keep it to the ground, wonít I?"
Dean considered shifting his leg and letting Samís head hit the ground, but decided he liked sitting this way and rubbed his hand over Samís chest instead. "For now anyway, Sammy, and tonight weíre working, so itís probably a good thing your ass is staying there."
"Youíre probably right," Sam agreed with a smile. "Doesnít mean that I canít think about it, though, your cock buried in my throat, the way you taste, those noises you make when youíve lost control and canít bite them back any more. Do you know how hot you sound when I make you whimper?" he asked, his smile spreading and taking on a wicked appearance as he felt Deanís reaction to his words growing every second as it was pressed against his cheek. "Man, you are so easy" he laughed, rolling to his feet in a seemingly effortless move. "Iím gonna go grab some extra ammo from the trunk, I donít want us to run out when we need it most. Anything else you think we might need?"
"Cold water," Dean growled, shying a small rock in Samís direction before getting to his feet as well, his movements slightly more careful than Samís had been. After stretching, he looked around the campsite, scanning the darkening woods for other fires, signs of nearby campsites, and noting two within sight.
"Having some issues there?" Sam snickered as he popped the trunk and lifted the covering to get to the hidden weapons. "Hey, you got any clue on how to make us the most inviting targets here?" he continued after a moment, turning to watch Dean examine their surroundings, eyes following the same route and spotting the same issue; neighbors. "Damn, we may have a problem if they hear the shots being fired."
Dean frowned and shook his head. "No idea how we can make ourselves the targets and if they hear, well, we just play drunk frat boys or shit like that."
"That works," Sam replied with a shrug. "I wish Dad had given us more than just the coordinates and the bare bones situation. This whole working blind thing sucks, man," Sam groused as he rummaged around in the trunk for the sawed off shotguns and rock salt cartridges. He grabbed a box of the ones that had been blessed by Pastor Jim for good measure and then frowned.
"Think Dad would let us take a run down to Pastor Jimís instead of heading straight home? Weíre running low on consecrated bullets and holy water. The holy waterís easy but the bullets are a bitch to get blessed." Checking his watch Sam reached for his cell phone and held it out to Dean. "Better call and let him know weíre here and weíre on the job. Last thing we need is the cell phone going off and distracting us at the wrong moment."
"What, you canít call him?" Dean snorted, taking the phone and hitting the speed dial and leaning against the side of the car, listening to their fatherís phone ring.
"No," Sam replied with a dark frown. "Weíd just end up yelling at each other again and I have no desire to engage in a shouting match on the phone just before a hunt."
"God, I wish the two of you could get along," Dean sighed before straightening unconsciously as their father answered the phone. "Hey Dad... Yeah, weíre here and set up, nothing much to report so far, weíll see what happens when it gets dark."
"You boys be careful, and donít forget, I need you back here in a week," John cautioned sternly on the other end of the phone. "As it is Iím giving you a helluva lot of leeway because I expect Sam will need some time to get back in the game. Donít take any unnecessary risks and watch out for your brother."
Sam scowled as he watched Deanís body language change from his usual nonchalant slouch to the soldier at attention. This was just one of the reasons why he and his father constantly butted heads, the fact that Sam refused to be a good little warrior. He wanted so much more out of life than the edge of society existence that theyíd grown up with. Sam wanted the normal, white bread, cookie cutter life. And he planned on getting it somehow, some day.
Snatching the phone out of Deanís hand and ignoring both the scowl and the punch to his arm, Sam managed to catch the tail end of Johnís comment about Dean having to watch out for him. "I can take care of myself Dad," he informed his father with barely concealed annoyance. "Just because I didnít go hunting with the two of you it doesnít mean I stopped training."
"Sam..." John said warningly.
"Weíre down to our last few bottles of holy water and weíve only got a couple of boxes of blessed bullets left. You mind if we swing by Pastor Jimís on our way home to restock?"
John sighed loudly. "Two more days, Sam, no extra. Iíve got a line on a group of rakshasas in South Carolina that Iíll need your help with."
"Yes sir, weíll be there," Sam replied before turning off the phone and tossing it to Dean with a smile. "See? I can play nice. I even managed to score us two more days."
Dean rolled his eyes and clapped his hands together sarcastically. "Good boy, Sammy. Iím proud of you."
"Oh bite me, bitch."
"Donít call me a bitch, bitch," Dean shot back, pocketing his phone before tackling Sam and closing his teeth on the younger manís shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "And donít whine, you told me to do it," he snickered when Sam tried to throw him off.
"Christ, what are you, a two year old?" Sam yelped, shoving hard at Dean and trying to elbow him hard enough to get him off of Sam. "Iím gonna have to go get a rabies shot now, you diseased freak!"
"Bullshit," Dean laughed, rolling back and off Sam after biting him again. "If you were going to get it from me, you would have long before and you know it."
"HA!" Sam snorted as he decided that two could play this came. He came in low and hard, taking Dean out at the waist and sending him sprawling before climbing on top and straddling him, pinning Dean in place. "You infected me with this incredible need to fuck and be fucked by you which means the whole reason why weíre lovers is coz you picked up some weird ass STD from one of your skanky hoís, probably that succubus you banged in Des Moines before you realized what she was, and thatís the whole reason Iím so addicted to you I canít get enough," Sam crowed triumphantly, grinding down on Deanís half filled cock and licking a long wet line up the other manís throat before scrambling off and out of striking range with an almost maniacal laugh.
"Grab the gear, will you? Iím gonna go scout the other camp areas, make with the friendly and see if theyíve noticed anything strange since theyíve been here," Sam continued with a snicker before sprinting for the tree line and safety.
"You are such a little shit and I do mean little!" Dean yelled after him, though he was snickering as he dusted himself off and grabbed the rest of their gear before heading back to the camp. Once there, he organized their hunting supplies and sat, cross-legged, sharpening his knife while waiting for Sam to come back.
Half an hour later Sam came back, considerably more sober than when he had he had left. Sitting down next to Dean he grabbed his whetstone and the wickedly curved knife that had been his fourteenth birthday present from their father. It had become a ritual for Sam, sharpening the blade and then oiling and polishing it until it gleamed helped him focus and collect his thoughts.
"The campsite to the left is a bunch of pseudo ghost-hunters who think they can film the phenomenon and make big bucks on TV. Theyíll run at the first sight of anything piss-your-pants-scary. The other campsite could be a problem, in more ways than one. Survivalists from the look of them and totally into God and country and all that shit. Theyíre itching to bag a ghost and are getting liquored up to do it. However, if they even think that weíre anything but a couple of brothers on a camping trip, meaning if weíre fucking each other, they could decide weíd make easier targets," he said after long moments of silent contemplation. "So weíre gonna have to watch for them as well as our ghost and try and keep a lid on things if we do anything at all."
"Sure you can, being so addicted to me and all?" Dean asked, canting a sidelong look at his brother. "We handle it around Dad, I think we can handle it around a bunch of drunk rednecks, though they may end up being more dangerous than the ghost."
"Iíd say bite me again but I still havenít had my rabies shots," Sam intoned with a roll of his eyes. "And itís not the idea of them trying to lynch us that has me worried, itís the idea of a couple of drunk off their asses idiots with shotguns roaming the woods at night going Ďhere ghostieí. Iím half tempted to call the park ranger and get them tossed just to make our lives easier but the last thing we need is the local law enforcement showing up and hanging out."
"Dude, what park ranger?" Dean asked incredulously. "You think a place like this really springs for security? Weíll just have to take care of it before they get going any more."
"Great," Sam groaned. "Oh well, one less thing for us to worry about I guess. Maybe weíll be lucky and theyíll drink themselves into a stupor and pass out," he hoped out loud as he sent his blade down the stone one last time before grabbing the oil and cloth, polishing the metal until it gleamed in the falling dusk until he was satisfied with his work and put the blade back in its sheath.
Standing and stretching, Sam could feel his almost too small tee-shirt ride up and expose a long line of sinew and muscle. Damn, he really had to get some new clothes, the old ones werenít cutting it since heíd finally hit his last growth spurt. Sam knew was still more gangly than not but his stomach was coming along nicely, if he did say so himself. Heíd never have the muscles that Dean did but then again, heíd have at least three or four inches on his brother so it was all good in the end. Wiry wasnít bad when you were tall.
Relaxing from the stretch, Sam idly scratched his stomach, turned, and ducked to enter the tent, wanting to get it set up for the night. Sam quickly laid out the foam padding and then unrolled their sleeping bags on top of it. After a momentís hesitation, he unzipped the two bags and then zipped them together. Dean was right; theyíd been sneaking around their father for a long time now, no sense letting a bunch of idiots spook him. Throwing the pillows at the Ďheadí of the bed Sam tucked his knife which heíd brought with him, under it. "Hey, Dean, we got enough fire wood to keep through the night or do we need more?" he hollered over his shoulder as he did a quick check of the tent to make sure everything else was in itís place.
"Should have enough," Dean answered, glancing in the direction of the tent and shaking his head. "Dude, working tonight," he commented, nodding at the sleeping bags.
"Just making sure that the fires keep stoked, Dean," Sam shot back quickly with a double entendre, wiggling his ass playfully. "Besides, Iím not gonna pass up the opportunity to be able to sleep next to you and not have to worry about Dad."
Backing out of the tent, Sam ambled over to sit next to Dean and let his head fall onto his brotherís shoulder. "I know weíve got a job to do, ghosts to waste and so on and so forth but... itís nice, you know? Just the two of us. It means we donít have to keep up pretences or anything. I like it."
"Yeah, it is," Dean murmured, for once leaving off with the teasing. "Iím glad youíre done with school so we can chill together - in between doing the ghosts and all."
"Dean, if you do a ghost youíre not touching me ever again," Sam chuckled, nudging the other man with his elbow. "Man, you really would hump a table leg if you had to, wouldnít you?"
Dean shook his head and raised a hand to give Sam a noogie. "And you say Iím obsessed with sex..."
"I blame you entirely. Youíve rubbed off on me in more ways than one, apparently," Sam chuckled. "If my GPA slips itís your fault, you realize that?"
"You graduated, remember, man? Unless youíre talking about your ghost popping average there arenít any grades to worry about."
"Right," Sam muttered and shifted uncomfortably. "I guess Iím still in school mode," he offered as he stared into the fire, desperately trying to avoid any eye contact because he knew Dean would see his discomfiture and pounce. There were times when the fact that Dean was the only one he knew him inside and out was more of a hindrance than a blessing.
Sam hadnít told Dean about how heíd applied to as many universities as he could and that he wanted nothing more than to continue his education, especially since heíd been accepted into Stanford. Nor had he told his brother how he wasnít like Dean, how he didnít want to spend the rest of his life living hand to mouth, running scams and killing demons, how he wanted a real job, a real life, to be part of society instead of living on the fringes. Sam didnít know how to find the words without driving a wedge between them.
He also didnít know how to reconcile the fact that Dean was his lover with the life he wanted when the very nature of their relationship was doubly taboo for being both homosexual and incestuous. Bad enough to fuck a guy, but fuck your brother? And yet Sam knew he wouldnít willingly give Dean up because Dean was... everything.
Over the years Dean had been father, brother, friend, teacher, companion, and now lover. He was everything Sam wanted, everything he needed. But how the hell could he resolve it, especially given what he was gravitating towards as a major. How could someone in pre-law flout some of the most basic and upheld tenets of the society they lived in? Sam didnít have any answers so he was opting for the Ďignore it until you had to deal with ití school of thought. He only hoped it wouldnít come back to bite him on the ass and then slam him into the dirt.
Dean turned his head just enough to look at Sam and studied him for a moment. "You sure thatís what it is?" he asked dryly. "Or is it youíre nervous about being out in the field again?"
"What?" Sam looked up and glared at Dean. "Why the hell would I be nervous about a bunch of ghosts? I mean I might have been if it were something big like a were or a wendigo or something bad ass and corporeal but ghosts? Dude, Iím not that rusty," Sam rejoined, indignation and disgust dripping from every word.
"Seeing is believing, Sammy," Dean laughed, enjoying the reaction. "Me, Iím betting you screech like a little girl when the first one shows up."
"Oh you are so gonna pay for that. Watch and see if I take care of your scrawny ass and more than likely pull it out of the fire coz you did some stupid-assed, dick-brained thing that tends to get you in hot water," Sam replied haughtily.
"You gonna explain it to Dad then?" Dean snorted. "Iíd love to hear that one."
"I was rusty and screamed like a little girl and you werenít there to protect poor helpless widdle me," Sam replied in a grating falsetto complete with the batting of his eyes.
"Because if you let me get killed - man, if thatís the case, Iím so haunting you."
"And then you get to watch me do every hot piece of ass that I can find just to piss you off," Sam snickered and jabbed Dean lightly as he threw another log on the fire, watching as it hissed and popped and finally caught. "Damn, I wish these ghosts would get a move on. I want to get some shut eye."
Dean snorted at that and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "Címon, Sammy, they donít show up on your time-table, you know that. Just chill until we see or hear something."
"Doesnít stop me from wanting it. Although if weíre lucky the longer these ghosties take to show up the more liquored up the yahoos down the way will be and hopefully theyíll pass out and be out of our hair."
Dean nodded at that. "Yeah, good point, but it never works out that easy, does it?"
"Just for once Iíd really really like it too. Have the hillbillies pass out, the ghosts show up tonight and us able to sleep in, fool around and fuck like rabbits until we have to go home again," Sam replied. "But youíre right. Chances are its not gonna happen that way."
"It is a nice thought though," Dean mused, "especially the sleeping in part."
"Let me guess, gotta catch up on your beauty sleep, right pretty boy?" Sam chuckled, picking up a stick to poke at the embers of the fire underneath the remaining wood, distributing the coals a little more evenly. "For a guy who doesnít do Ďchick momentsí you sure spend enough time in front of a mirror," Sam continued to tease even as his eyes scanned the forest surrounding their clearing and he listened intently for any sound of paranormal activity.
"This from the squirt who spends all his money on gel and shit," Dean snorted, resting his free hand on the shotgun.
Sam made an exaggerated sniffing smell. "Whatís that I smell? Could it be Eau de Bullshit, he who buys salon shampoo and conditioner and wears CK One?" Sam teased right back knowing that Dean didnít do the former and only owned a bottle of the latter thanks to some ex-girlfriend or something. There was something just so... normal... about the whole razzing of each other over the small shit that always brought a grin to Samís face.
Movement caught the corner of his eye and Samís hand slid over to Deanís knee, squeezing it in warning. He continued to appear to stare into the fire, his whole body seemingly relaxed as he tracked the movement carefully. "So just who did give you that cologne, anyway? Let me guess, blonde, stacked, short skirts and air between her ears. Probably a Muffy or a Tiffy or something coz CK One is whatís in right now and all the trendy girls pay attention to that sorta stuff," he rambled on, making stupid conversation while they waited to see if it was their ghosts coming to call or just the wannabes from one of the other campsites.
"Nah, her name was Julie and she had the hottest rack youíve ever seen," Dean smirked though he, too, was watching the woods.
"You boys out here looking for the ghost?" A rough voice called before two men stepped into the campsite, both wearing flannel and several daysí growth of stubble.
Sam stifled the groan that threatened to erupt. Fuck, it had to be the rednecks. And heíd been hoping that it was the ghosts so they could kick back for the rest of the week.
Putting on his best boy next door grin, complete with the dimples, he looked up at the speaker. "Weíre just here for the camping, sir. My big brother is just a little over cautious, is all, what with that bear attack a month or so back. I guess with our dad being an ex-Marine and all and teaching us how to shoot a gun before we could barely walk was a good thing in the end, wasnít it Dean?" Sam grinned as his own hand slid to his weapon. The yahoos didnít need to know that the shotguns were only filled with rock salt and, worst case; it would still sting like a son-of-a-bitch and give the two of them time to get to their other weapons.
"What he said," Dean nodded. "Is there something going on Ďround here?"
"Dude, the Ďghostsí," Sam made air quotes as he spoke, "remember? Címon, man, you donít actually believe in ghosts and shit, do you?" Sam queried, looking at the guy as if he were nuts and as he let his hand creep obviously closer to his own shotgun.
"Thereís somethiní out in these woods thatís big and mean and will eat little boys like you for supper," redneck one growled while redneck two twitched slightly.
"Dude, seriously, ghosts? Our dad used to tell us shit like that to scare us!" Sam laughed. "I bet itís that bear come back for a second helping of fresh meat or something. Hey Dean, you remember that bear that Dad shot when he took us backpacking in the Appalachians? That thing had to have weighed at least 500 pounds. Donít know if he actually managed to kill it or just made it run away but I remember hightailing it down the mountain as fast as we could. And the noise it made... creepiest damned sound Iíve ever heard. If I hadnít seen Dad bag it the noise might have actually convinced me that there was something supernatural in the forest but as it was... dying animals make pretty whack noises, yíknow."
"Yeah, I remember you shrieking like a little girl," Dean snickered, though he never took his eyes off the two men. "And thanks for the warning; weíll keep and eye out for anything strange."
"Nah, that was you, dickwad," Sam retorted, punching Dean in the arm hard.
Seemingly satisfied with what they heard and saw their guests grunted their goodbyes and headed back into the woods to continue their ghost search without a backwards glance. Sam sighed gustily and felt some of the tension drain out of his shoulders. "I say we waste the ghosts and get the hell out of here, find another campground or something to chill at for the rest of the week."
"Fine with me," Dean nodded, clambering to his feet, shotgun in hand, as he stared in the direction the yahoos had gone. "That was a little too close to a scene from Deliverance. So, letís hit the woods."
"Yeah, I donít know if itís comforting or not to know there are people out there who live stranger lives than us," Sam murmured as he stood and grabbed his own gun. "But weíre sticking together. Thereís safety in numbers and youíre just too damned pretty for your own good; they might mistake you for a girl in the dark," he teased.
"With your hair? Ha!" Dean elbowed Sam in the side. "Letís go bag us some ghosts."
"Leave my hair alone, freak; I just havenít had time to cut it yet," Sam groused, shooting Dean a glare before following him out into the woods.
The scream came from all around them; an unearthly noise that first had Sam thinking of banshees but the research hadnít indicated any banshee infestations. "Okaaay, thatís a new and different noise, even for ghosts."
"No movement," Dean reported, all business now that they were working. "I donít smell anything either. You?"
"Nada," Sam murmured. "But all the reports stated that the screams were a precursor to the ghosts manifesting, so keep your eyes peeled and try not to shoot Billy Ray and Jim Bob."
"Spoilsport." Dean scanned the surrounding area, his eyes narrowing. "There, either someone has a fog machine or our friendly neighborhood ghosts are paying us a visit."
"Who you gonna call..." Sam sniggered but nonetheless released the safety on his gun and moved slightly so that the space between them was almost infinitesimal in order prevent them from being separated in a fight.
"Címon, letís get this over with and blow this burg. Here ghostie, ghostie, ghostie, come out and play with us," Sam sing-songed.
A cold wind rose up around them, increasing in intensity as the fog thickened. "I hate not having a target," Dean grumbled.
"Well, all the accounts I read said that they materialized sooner or later. Maybe this is just their warm up. First they get their victims going with cheesy scare tactics that work on the uninformed and then pop a face out, make the target wet themselves and sit back and watch Ďem run," Sam hypothesized. "Damn, I really should have put a sweatshirt on;, itís getting fucking cold, dude."
"Poor baby," Dean snorted before jumping back, taking Sam with him as a face materialized in front of his own. "Oh man, I think it kissed me," he moaned as he brought up his shotgun and blasted a spray of rock-salt in the thingís direction.
"Make sure you gargle with Listerine before you kiss me again," Sam grunted turning abruptly when he felt a cold draft along the back of his neck only to come face to face with a second ghost. "Dude get off me!" Sam backpedaled quickly, his back slamming into Deanís, as he moved to avoid grasping ethereal hands.
"Gross. That was just so uncool," he snarled bringing up his own shotgun and letting off a second blast of halite. "Now Iím gonna have to gargle."
"Make sure you floss like a good little boy." Deanís eyes narrowed as he tracked the fleeing trails of fog. "Letís see where these little shits are heading."
"I got salt, you got your lighter?" Sam asked, receiving a nod from Dean as the older Winchester took off at a light jog, Sam easily keeping pace with his longer legs. "Hopefully these suckers have bones to salt and burn otherwise Iíll have to break out the Latin. Crap I just hope I donít mix up the exorcism rituals with my Latin course."
Dean snorted from where he was trotting ahead of Sam. "You telling me you lugged those books out here? Schoolís over, Sammy, you can lay off the books now."
"Yeah right," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Like Dadíll let me. Heís always shoving another book on demonology or exorcism or something else supernatural in my hands and expecting me to memorize the important parts without telling me what they are," the younger man growled.
"No idea. What, you worried about us ending up in some version of that stupid movie about that fake witch?"
"No, idiot, Iím worried about us getting lost and you becoming some backwoods bears bitch," Sam deadpanned. "Shuddup and follow the Ďfloatersí will ya?"
Dean chuckled at the comment as he sped up, following the mist through the woods until they ended up in a small open area near a stream. The mists coalesced around two trees and Dean frowned, staring at them, until he took a step closer and realized what he was seeing hanging from a branch. "Oh shit."
"Okay, now thatís disgusting," Samís face scrunched up in disgust. "I guess Billy Ray and Jim Bob found the ghosts before we did. I never found anything in what little research I could dig up about the ghosts doing that to... Wait, wait, wait," Sam muttered, snapping his fingers. "There was something. Not about the ghosts but.... A couple of locals going missing and a bunch of, well, those types bragging about taking care of some Ďunnatural behaviorí in these parts. And those guys do seem to be missing... erm... certain parts of their anatomy. You think maybe this was some sort of retribution thing?"
"So are you saying you think these guys are Billy Ray and Jim Bob or some other poor SOBís who didnít hide who they were well enough?"
"Iím saying that there are two dead guys in the tree, theyíre missing their family jewels and their faces are ripped off. How the hell am I supposed to know who they are? What am I, the amazing Kreskin?"
"Idiot," Dean muttered as he stalked forward toward the tree, gagging at the stench coming from the two bodies and forcing himself not to flinch when the mists drew closer. "Iíd say these two guys have been up here a lot longer than a few hours," he commented, still trying to breathe through his mouth. "More like months. How long did you say those other two have been missing?"
"I didnít," Sam murmured, his mind quickly racing over the facts heíd absorbed the previous day. "There were a couple of friends who disappeared about six months ago, but if these are our ghosts theyíre damned strong for only being six months dead. Must have taken them one helluva long time to die in order to build up that much anger to manifest the way they do. Then again..." Sam trailed off, using the sleeve of his Henley to cover his mouth and nose as he looked up at the bodies in revulsion.
"Someone did this to me, Iíd be pissed," Dean nodded. "Someone did it to you and Iíd be doubly pissed." There was a glint of danger in his eyes as he said the last. "So yeah, I can see it."
Sam reached up with his free hand to squeeze Deanís shoulder reassuringly and he leaned forward to brush his lips quickly against the back of his brotherís neck. "Not gonna happen, Dean, so stop thinking about that sort of shit," he murmured before stepping back and away, hoping that the idiots from the next campsite werenít around to cause problem.
"I agree with you I can see the reason for the rage but, dude, we gotta burn Ďem. Iím voting we set the tree on fire, or take down the branch theyíre on somehow. I so donít wanna be touching them."
"I donít believe Iím saying this, but we should get the cops. So far these ghosts havenít hurt anyone, and burning their bodies - man it just seems like itís denying them justice."
"What about their spirits, Dean? Far be it from me to ever agree with Dad but... if we donít salt and burn them whatís to say they wonít keep getting stronger and stronger until they do hurt someone. And letís not forget our friendly neighbors who are out here hunting ghosts too. They go shooting off their guns theyíre likely to piss the ghosts off even more," Sam reasoned. "I just donít know."
"Me either, but I think it sucks that some yahoos are gonna get off with killing these guys if we do what we should."
"This sucks. I mean what the hell did these guys do to piss their killers off? They were friends, roommates... oooohkay. Took a minute, sorry, they were maybe more than friends and got offed because of their unnatural behavior. Yeah, they deserve justice but I donít know how we can give it to Ďem, Dean," Sam murmured, looking up at the poor bastards strung up in the tree in front of them.
"Oooh, whee, look what you boys found!" The one Sam had dubbed Billy Ray whistled as he sauntered into the clearing. "A couple of queers in a fag tree. Looks like someone got Ďem good."
"What do you mean a couple of queers?" Sam asked mildly even though inside he was raging.
"Hell, this ainít the first time weíve seen this sorta thing, may have even been invited to help out with it, if you know what I mean. Got what they deserved for corrupting others and doiní unnatural things like that. If God wanted queers he wouldnít have made women and thatís the truth!"
Sam bit back a snarl, his free hand curling into a fist so tight that his blunt nails cut into the palm of his hand. The other itched to pull the trigger so bad he had to let out a gusty breath release some of the rage. Looking over at Dean, he could see that his brotherís face was stony and there was something in Deanís eyes that sent a shiver chasing down Samís spine. This whole situation was going to hell fast.
Suddenly in the air turned frigid and the woods around them lit up with an eerie green light. The woods went dead silent and then an eerie thrumming noise started up, low level at first, like Sam was standing out outside of the Impala listening to Dean crank the bass while all the windows were rolled up, and continued to increase in strength.
Billy Rayís side-kick came crashing through the trees, looking like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were on his ass and the moment he stepped into the clearing the sound level increased even more until all Sam could hear were constant drum beats making him feel his teeth vibrating in his head. Moving quickly he put his back to Deanís, scanning the woods intently. This was seriously, totally fucked.
"Stay still, Sammy," Dean rasped, his knuckles white on his shotgun.
"Dean, man, are we just gonna let em?" Sam trailed off. Truth was the bastards probably deserved it just based on what the first bigot had spouted off but Sam had a hard time justifying just standing there watching without helping.
"You heard what that fucker said, Sammy. It sounds like there were the ones who tortured and killed those poor guys, and all because they loved each other. I think its justice."
Sam swallowed hard. The one enveloped in the mist started screaming while the other tried desperately to bolt from the clearing only to be thrown back by unseen forces. "Dean," Samís throat was tinder dry and he could feel himself trembling. Heíd gone toe to toe with all sorts of bad ass demons and evil things but he couldnít stand the thought of watching two men, humans die, even if what they did made them just as much a monster as the creatures they hunted.
"So torturing these two is gonna make it right?" Sam finally asked, his inherent respect for the law forcing him to speak. "Doesnít this just make them as bad as the men who killed them if they do that? Iím not arguing that the bastards deserve to be punished, they do, but I... God, I canít watch this, I canít! Itís just as bad as pulling the trigger myself. This is being an accessory to murder, Dean!"
"And they killed these guys, Sam!" Dean growled back, looking over his shoulder to glare at Sam. "Just who is the victim here?"
"We donít know they killed these guys we just know... fuck all!" Sam retorted. "You donít think I donít want them to get what they deserve for what theyíve done, what theyíve said? Christ, it could just as easily have been us, Dean, and a whole lot worse because we share blood on top of the fact that weíre lovers but..." Samís words were cut off when Billy Rayís shrieks were joined by his hunting buddyís and the sounds tore through the night then were abruptly silenced. "Jesus," Samís eyes were drawn to the dissipating fog where he began to make out two still figures on the ground. "Does this mean weíre next?"
"No idea." Dean raised the shotgun as the mists whirled around them, moving to push Sam behind him and protect him, wondering if he had just made a mistake that was going to cost both of them their lives. An unnatural chill made his bones ache as the two ghosts rushed toward them both only to swerve at the last moment and circle back to the bodies hanging from the tree, diving around them in an ever-tightening spiral before vanishing, leaving the clearing still and silent.
"What the fuck?" Sam stepped out from behind Dean, torn between equal parts confusion and the sudden urge to beat his brother senseless for pulling that protective shit on him yet again. "Okay, for the record, I am so not a damsel in distress and the next time you decide to play knight in shining armor Iím gonna have to kick your ass," he muttered without heat as he moved past Dean and cautiously approached the tree.
"They could have wasted us and they just... you think maybe they want us to finish it, burn their bones so they can be released?"
"You think they have family thatís looking for them?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam. "Iíd say, yeah, burn Ďem, other than that."
"I guess it wouldnít hurt to check and see if they have IDs. What with," Sam swallowed hard and nodded towards the fresh corpses, "them here now it could always be pinned on them, the burning I mean. We can tell the ranger we stumbled across this hiking or something and theyíd be found at least," he finished. It was the best he could come up with.
"Besides," Sam continued after a moment, "If theyíre burnt then their families wonít have to know what state theyíre in, what was done to Ďem. God, I couldnít imagine how Iíd feel if I found out youíd been tortured to death."
Dean nodded, his features tight as he studied the bodies hanging from the tree and the others on the ground. "Iíll go check them, you stay here and cover me," he ordered, swallowing hard as he started toward the mutilated bodies.
"Dean, be fucking careful, okay?" Sam ordered as he moved a few steps closer. "And donít do anything stupid like get yourself possessed so I have to shoot your ass with rock salt."
"Dude, donít be so fucking positive," Dean growled as he started toward the bodies, breathing through his mouth so that he didnít gag as he got closer to them. Grimacing, he patted down first one body, then the other, finding wallets in both their pants pockets.
"Got Ďem," he called, turning back to Sam and raising the leather billfolds in his hand.
"Feel like cutting them down while youíre up there? Itíll make salting and torching them easier," Sam replied, pulling out the baggies of salt heíd shoved in the pockets of his jeans, hoping heíd brought enough. "Hey, you still got that can of lighter fluid in your jacket? Considering the state of them it should be enough accelerant to start everything burning."
"Yeah, I got Ďem." Deanís tone was tight as he turned back to the bodies, pulling out his knife to cut them down, laying them on the ground as gently as possible, all the while waiting for the ghosts to return and go after him.
"Poor bastards, and all because they may have been in love with each other. Fuck. I think Iíll take demons and spirits any day of the week, they at least have reasons for being the way they are. Killing a person because they donít conform with the mainstream way of doing things..." Sam shook his head as he began to salt the bodies, all the while keeping a close eye out for returning spirits. "Christ, Dean, what would they do to us if anyone ever found out?"
Dean looked up at him, his eyebrows raised. "I think it would probably make what they did to these poor slobs look like a picnic - not that Iíd let anyone hurt you Sammy. Theyíd be in the ground before that happened." He looked down at the bodies and muttered a prayer over them as he poured the lighter fluid over them. "I hope the two of you are together wherever you are."
"Dean," Sam murmured, moving to stand behind his brother and wrapping his arms tight around the other manís chest. "That was... real nice, man," he finished, pressing his lips into the exposed skin of Deanís neck. "They were together here so Iíd like to think theyíre together wherever else they ended up after this life. Hopefully itís a better place than here was."
Resting his chin on his brotherís shoulder, Sam watched the flames flicker and die, grateful to be able to just hold on and be with Dean. "Donít think that Iím being all girly when I say this but... I love you dude. Just wanted to make sure you knew it."
"Youíre such a wuss," Dean muttered though he reached up and covered Samís hand with his own, squeezing his fingers tightly and dropping his attitude for a moment. "Iíve always got your back, Sammy; whenever, wherever you need me, Iíll be there."
"Itís always been the one thing Iíve been able to count on my entire life," Sam replied, brushing his lips against Deanís collarbone.
They watched as the flames burned lower and lower and then finally went out. When the ashes were cold and there was no chance of a flare up Sam unwrapped himself from around Dean, stretched hard enough to hear the vertebrae in his back pop and tugged on one of Deanís belt loops playfully. "Címon, bro, letís go tip off the local authorities and then blow this burg. I, for one, want to be far away when they discover the scene, preferably in a motel in bed with you."
"First thing I plan on doing is taking a long hot shower," Dean announced as they pulled up outside their room at a motel half a daysí drive from the no-longer-haunted campground. "Iím glad theyíre at rest, but I do not appreciate smelling like them, you know?" he asked, canting a quick glance over at Sam.
Sam stifled the snicker that threatened to erupt, his eyes dancing with humor nonetheless. "How about I go check us in then, wouldnít want you to make the desk clerk pass out before we can get a room," he replied, as straight faced as he could manage.
"Shut up, punk, or I wonít invite you in the shower with me," Dean grumbled, shoving Sam as he got out of the car.
"Yes you will, you need me to wash your back," Sam short back as he headed towards the office to get them a room. "Be nice or I wonít blow you."
"Yeah, yeah, like I believe that one," Dean smirked as he got out of the car, leaning against the hood and waiting for Sam to return.
Sam sauntered out of the office less than five minutes later, a smug grin on his face. Walking over to the Impala, he sat down next to Dean and dangled the key between two fingers just out of Deanís reach. "So, Iím starving, wanna go get something to eat before we settle in for the night?" he asked, all innocence and light. "We could go to that tex-mex place we passed on the way into town. What I wouldnít give to wrap my lips around an overstuffed beef burrito."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "I spend how many years teaching you the fine art of seduction and this is the line you come up with?"
"Oh yeah, I remember your so-called lessons. What was the one you said worked like a charm each and every time? Letís see, it went something like Ďyou, me, naked, nowí. A real charming pickup line that," Sam snorted, knocking shoulders with Dean before getting up off the hood of the car. "Dude, you reek, címon, letís get you cleaned up already."
Dean reached out and plucked the keys from Samís finger as he straightened up. "Always worked on you," he shot back before opening the door and looking back over his shoulder. "Grab the gear, will you?"
Sam rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to try and come up with a snappy comeback. Heíd get his revenge another way. With an evil grin the younger Winchester locked the car and popped the trunk, grabbing their duffle bags and heading into the room.
The shower was already running in the short time it took Sam to grab the gear and get into the room. Dropping the bags on the scarred dresser that had seen far better days Sam quickly laid down the salt lines by the window and door, turned the lock, threw Deanís keys on the nightstand next to his cell phone and began to strip as he walked to the bathroom. He was naked before he hit the door.
Pulling back the curtain, Sam stepped under the spray and immediately dropped to his knees. Not even giving Dean a chance to make a snarky remark, he inhaled the older manís cock all the way to the root as he cupped Deanís ass with his hands to hold him still.
"Oh fuck," Dean breathed, his hands moving to cradle Samís head as he hardened, his cock growing as he slid in and out of the warm, wet haven of Samís mouth.
Sam chuckled around Dean and then drew back and off of the older man. "Thatís the plan, yes, but I kinda needed you a little harder than you were. Guess you really are past your sexual peak, arenít you?" he teased, looking up at Dean through water drenched lashes.
In answer, Dean pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him against the wall, devouring his mouth as he pressed against Sam, their bodies slipping and sliding together, the friction of their skin lessened by the water sheeting down over them.
Wrapping his hands around Deanís shoulders Sam tugged him closer and opened his mouth wider, letting Dean lay claim to him. Sam spread his feet wider to accommodate for the height difference and allow their cocks to slide against one another wetly. When the urge to breathe became too great, Sam tore his mouth away and then gently but firmly maneuvered them around so that Dean was pressed against the cold tile instead of him. With a groan of regret Sam stepped back and away. "Clean up first, then we can get on with enjoying a dirty fuck on the bed where we wonít crack our heads open if we slip."
"Tease," Dean growled without heat, trailing a hand down Samís chest before reaching for the soap again and lathering himself up, lewdly stroking his erection with his lather-slick hand and smiling slightly as Sam watched him.
"Hell yeah," Sam groaned, not sure if he was agreeing with Deanís estimation or his actions. Picking up the soap Sam lathered his own hands and then began to scrub Deanís chest for him, taking his time to tease each nipple into a hard peak. Letting his hands roam over smooth, taut skin Sam almost zoned out on the feel of Dean alone, the other manís groans, growls and hot-dirty whispers just goading him on.
Moving behind Dean, Sam began working on his back and glutes, bending forward slightly to mouth Deanís ear. "Want you so bad, want you to fuck me hard. Slam me through the mattress. Want to feel you for a week every time I sit down."
Dean groaned in reply, spinning around to devour Samís mouth again. "Clean enough," he growled. "Bed. Now." That said, he turned off the water and pushed a dripping Sam out of the shower, not bothering to dry either of them off as he herded the younger man into the other room, toppling him to the bed and pouncing on him. "Going to lick you dry, Sammy," Dean rasped before swiping his tongue over Samís neck.
Sam laughed quietly and tilted his head away from Dean, exposing his neck even more. "God, youíre so fucking easy," he teased. "Good thing I like you easy." Wrapping his arms around Deanís neck, Sam spread his legs wide, pulling them up so that Dean fell into the cradle of his thighs. "However, as interesting as being licked dry sounds, you tomcat, how about you just fuck me instead?"
Dean pushed up onto his elbows to stare down at Sam, his eyes a dark forest green in the harsh light of the bedside lamp. "I can do that," he rasped, reaching for the lube as he slid backward to kneel between Samís legs, all pretense of joking and teasing gone. Running a hand down Samís leg, Dean shuddered, his thumb caressing the thin skin of his inner thigh.
"Dean, Jesus," Sam breathed, his thighs spreading wider onto the bed leaving him splayed open. A shudder raced down his body that had nothing to do with the cool air from the room on damp skin and everything to do with the fire burning in Deanís eyes. Reaching above his head Sam grasped the headboard of the bed and offered himself up for the taking. "Just, fuck, I canít wait, Dean, just you. I donít want your fingers, I just want you."
"Oh, no, Sammy," Dean whispered, continuing the slow torture of his light touch. "Normally you have me jumping to your tune, but Iím not going to hurt you. Never going to hurt you." As he spoke, he stroked both hands over Samís groin, his fingers nearing, but never touching his straining cock.
"Dude, youíre such a girl," Sam teased breathlessly but silently admitted to himself that this was the side of Dean he loved most, the one that took care of him and treated him like he was everything. "God, youíre trying to drive me nuts, arenít you? Teasing me and playiní me until I go freakiní insane. Donít think I donít, oh Christ do that again, donít know what youíre doiní."
"Not pissing me off into speeding up this time, Sammy," Dean crooned, leaning in to press a kiss against Samís navel, feeling the muscles twitch under his lips.
"Fuck," Sam whined as he thrust upwards, trying to increase the friction on his aching erection. "So does that mean I can piss you off next time?" When Dean neatly pulled back to prevent any sort of friction, Sam growled and wrapped his hands around Deanís hips, pulling him down hard onto Samís desperate body.
Dean grinned, though his eyes were still dark and hungry as he stared down at Sam. "You can try," he rasped, using the edge of his teeth on Samís stomach.
Moaning, Sam shivered and danced under Deanís lips and teeth. "So good," he whispered, not even realizing heíd spoken out loud. His hands came up to card through Deanís baby soft hair and hold on tight as Dean moved and shifted his assault on Samís body. "Please, Dean, Iím begginí here! Do something, anything, but Jesus wept let me come!"
"When Iím ready, Sammy," Dean murmured, slicking up a finger and pressing it into Samís ass while he continued to worry Samís chest.
"And you called me a cocktease, you fucking take the cake, Dean," Sam snarled and tried to slam his hips downwards in order to get some sort of friction going, anything to ease the gnawing ache of lust.
Deanís grin was tight as he pressed his finger deeper, rubbing it against Samís prostate. "Damn right, I do."
The sound that was ripped from Samís throat was low, hungry and completely non-verbal as his hips bucked and his eyes rolled back in his head. One hand wrapped around his cock in reflex and began to pump. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he begged as he twisted and thrashed on the bed trying to get closer.
"Let go of your cock, Sammy," Dean growled, pulling up and away from the other man and stroking lube onto his erection. "Let go or Iím not going to touch you again."
"Who died and fucking made you king of me?" Sam snarled but none the less let go as ordered, biting down hard on his lower lip to stop the whimper of need from breaking free. "I so hate you right now. Seriously."
"Boo fucking who." Dean continued to stroke himself, his eyes going half closed as he teased his cock and balls.
"Bitch," Sam growled as he watched Dean, eyes devouring that hard, smooth, toned body which Sam knew as well as his own. "You keep this up and Iím gonna go out and find someone else who can give me what I want. A good hard fuck." There was no way in hell heíd do it, no way heíd let anyone but Dean touch him that way without becoming seriously and permanently impaired so it was just another way to goad Dean on and they both knew it.
Dean chuckled and ran one slick finger over Samís cock. "Slut," he breathed before hiking Samís legs over his shoulders and pressing the head of his shaft against Samís ass, teasing them both with a light pressure and waiting for Samís oncoming protest before shoving inside, silencing him.
"Oh thank you, God," Sam whimpered as Dean came to rest completely inside of him. There was a slight burn and ache as he was stretched wider than the single finger Dean had inserted earlier but it was just what Sam wanted. Tugging at Deanís ears, Sam lifted up as Dean let himself be pulled down and their lips met and devoured each other in the middle. "And no, I donít mean you, you may be good, but youíre not a deity no matter what your ego tells you," Sam teased when they finally separated for breath.
"So you say," Dean smirked as he began to move, starting a slow rhythm of thrust and retreat that Sam met fully, the hot brand of his cock burning between them when they came together.
"God, you, fuck, ego, more, much?" Sam managed to get out in a garbled mess of words. The truth was he was much more interested in feeling every ridge, ripple and every flared inch of Deanís cock as it stroked in and out of him. Sam began to stuff his fist in his mouth only to remember that he didnít have to muffle his moans and pleas because they were in a motel room and not at home with Dad in the next room. "Yes, so fucking good, God, Dean!"
Dean gave up on trying to talk and ravaged Samís mouth again as they slammed together, sweat slicking their movements and their gasps and moans filling the air around them.
Wrapping his legs high around Deanís waist, Sam tangled his fingers in the older manís hair and held on as tight as he could. His tongue thrust and dueled with Deanís and he could feel their combined sweat make the slide of bodies just that much slicker and easier.
Trapped between them, Samís erection was rock hard and leaking a constant stream of pre-come. Each time Dean thrust inside and ground himself into Sam, their bellies pressed and rubbed adding a shivery sweet friction that was just enough to drive Sam insane for more but not enough to satisfy. One hand finally let go of Deanís hair and wormed itself in between their undulating bodies to wrap around his sorely tormented cock and began to provide just the right amount of friction and rigidity to make Samís breath hitch and his legs to dig into Deanís spine just that much more.
"Thatís it, Sammy," Dean gasped, pulling back enough to stare down at the younger manís straining body before diving in to kiss him again, at the same time, wrapping a hand around Samís and urging him on.
"Dean, oh fuck, Dean!" Sam whimpered into the older manís mouth as Dean practically devoured him. The cheap motel bed shook and squeaked and the headboard beat a staccato rhythm against the paper-thin walls loud enough to wake the dead if they were listening. Sam moaned and writhed underneath Deanís assault. He was surrounded and filled by his brother and it triggered scent memories that flooded Samís brain: the first time theyíd kissed, the way Deanís skin tasted after a long hot day in the sun, the feel of those calluses sliding over his skin, exploring him, the first time a finger penetrated his ass, the first time Deanís dick slid inside and bound Sam to Dean in a way that not even time or distance could erase.
Salt and skin and this underlying sweetness that was simply ĎDeaní exploded on his taste buds as their tongues thrust and dueled. A hand made rough by their work and the constant gripping of weapons squeezed down hard over his own and pretty much blew the top off of Samís head. Tearing his mouth away, he let out a roar and slammed his head back into the pillow, driving the bed so hard against the wall that it left a dent. His body spasmed, clamping down on Deanís cock, legs squeezing tight and left hand leaving finger-shaped bruises in almost perfect flesh as Sam came hard enough to see fireworks go off behind tightly shut eyes while all the while he chanted Deanís name over and over like a benediction, or perhaps a curse.
Deanís driving pace faltered as Sam went wild under him, squeezing him with ass, arms and legs as if trying to pull him deeper inside and make him a permanent part of they younger man. He groaned out Samís name and thrust harder, faster, driving into Samís body and feeling the warmth of his come spreading between them.
"God, Sammy," he gasped, staring into those warm, passion-dazed eyes, and feeling something within himself break just as wave of need rushed through him. He shouted hoarsely, his whole body tightening, as he came, sending gout after gout of his seed into the other manís ass.
"Finally he gets it right," Sam mumbled, his voice sated and teasing. "Yes, Dean, I am the god of the family, not you." Wrapping his arms around Deanís waist Sam watched as Dean came apart, coming inside him, flooding Sam with his heat. Tugging at Deanís head, Sam pulled them together, nibbling on Deanís lower lip and licking it before aligning their mouths in a lazy kiss. He felt Dean shudder and shake around and in him, felt as Dean slowly went from being rigid with extreme pleasure to soft and pliant, collapsing down onto him.
As much as he loved the feeling of being buried balls deep inside of Dean or having Dean pile driving into him, it was these times that Sam cherished the most, when all the layers were peeled away and he got to see the core of Dean, the man heíd spent his whole life adoring. All the masks, the illusions were stripped away when Dean was coming down off of his post-orgasmic high. Gone was the macho posturing and bad-ass bad boy attitude. Gone too was all the smooth charm and seductive smiles. This was just Dean, his Dean and it was all Sam ever wanted or needed.
Slowly their heartbeats returned to normal, their pulses no longer thundered sending blood rushing through their bodies and making the sound of ocean waves crash against their ears. Their skin cooled and the lethargy began to creep in. Sam eventually registered the weight of Dean over and on him and reluctantly pulled back from their mutual feasting on each others mouth. He watched as impossibly long lashes flicked up to reveal that Deanís dark green eyes. They were still blown with pleasure, all pupil with just a thin ring of green surrounding the darkness. "Hey," Sam whispered as he saw just when the hamster wheel that was Deanís brain began to turn again. Running a thumb across Deanís swollen lips, Sam smiled up at the other man. "You back with me now?"
"Shut up," Dean muttered against Samís throat. "You were pretty out of it as well."
Sam laughed and petted Dean from neck to ass and back. "Hey, you rock my world, stud," he snickered. "Who am I to deny it?"
"Knew you were the smart one," Dean muttered without moving.
"And I knew you were a pain in my ass, get off me man, you weigh a ton!" Sam retorted, shoving at Deanís shoulder until he rolled off to the side and stood and disappeared into the bathroom to clean the come off of his chest. When he came back in Sam crawled back into bed and wrapped himself around Dean with a content sigh. "So, you wanna stay here for a couple of days or do you wanna find a campground between here and Pastor Jimís? Weíve got a few days before we need to be home," Sam murmured. And I have a few days to figure out how to tell Dean about Stanford, Sam thought to himself with a morose sigh. He had a gut feeling that that particular conversation would go over like a lead balloon.
"What part of no more campgrounds do you not understand?" Dean yawned, sitting up and shoving a pillow behind his back as he curved an arm around Samís body, his fingers idly stroking Samís warm skin. "We can head out tomorrow, find a place with a jacuzzi and magic fingers on the bed, and weíll be set."
"Mmm," Sam purred, arching slightly into Deanís fingers. "A real shower with real water pressure and lots and lots of hot water followed by a long hot soak. That sounds like my idea of heaven. Good thing Dad never actually sees the credit card statements so he wonít call us on it," Sam chuckled.
"Although we will have to stay a couple nights with Pastor Jim or he might get suspicious. Guess that means weíll be back to separate beds. It takes me freaking forever to get used to sleeping without you after we have a week like this," Sam sighed. "Maybe weíll be lucky and Dad will be heading out for a hunt or something." And it would give Sam more time to hoard every precious memory for those long nights when he was away at school, although he was hoping Dean would come visit often and heíd be home on long weekends and holidays to help hunt, maybe even more often depending on what his class schedule was like.
"At least one," Dean nodded before yawning. "We can tell Dad it took us a few days to settle this one, thatíll cover the extra time."
"Hey whaddaya know, you do have a brain underneath all that hair product after all," Sam teased as he snuggled into Deanís arms. "Actually, I always knew you were smart, after all you taught me everything I know about almost everything."
"Exactly." Dean settled them both more comfortably in the bed and reached over to turn out the light before returning to stroking Samís back. "And ya never know, maybe after a few years youíll be able to teach me something. Now go to sleep, you little punk."
"So, how many rakashas do you think make up a nest?" Sam asked as he slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I just hope Dad gives us enough time to do laundry and get something to eat before he makes us take off again. Pastor Jim has great stories and is totally cool for a preacher, but the man canít cook to save his life. That meatloaf was just wrong!"
"Seriously, dude," Dean laughed. "Raisins and carrots; thatís disgusting." He grabbed his own gear and grinned at Sam over the Impalaís roof before they started for the front door - where their father was standing, waiting. "Hey Dad," he called. "Get word on the rakashas?"
Their father ignored Deanís question, his steely gaze focused solely on Sam. "Samuel Winchester get your ass in the house now!" John ordered, his voice icy cold and deadly.
Sam was about to make a retort when he saw the sheaf of papers in his fatherís hand. Fuck. Just... fuck! Sam had wanted to talk to Dean first, hadnít wanted him to find out this way but... "I was going to tell you. I just couldnít figure out how. I thought Iíd have more time before Dad found out and I wanted us to have some time to ourselves before things blew up. You have to believe me, Dean!" Sam whispered passionately. "I just... I didnít know how and I..."
"Whatís going on, Dad?" Dean asked, Samís low-voiced plea having caused a sick ball of worry to grow in the pit of his stomach. "Get billed for those 1-900 numbers Sammy likes calling?"
"What is the meaning of this?" John snarled, slamming the papers against the wall the moment they were in the house. "What the hell are you thinking, Sam?"
"That maybe I wanted something more than the existence that you shoved down my throat without so much as asking me what I wanted?" Sam exploded. "That maybe I wanted to be something more, have a normal life for once? Or how about that maybe I wanted to see if I was smart enough and good enough to make it into one of the most prestigious schools in the country? Well I am and I do want more with my life and I donít want to do this forever. Iím not like you, Dad. Why canít you just get that?"
Deanís eyes widened at the revelation and he opened his mouth, only to be cut off by his fatherís escalating tirade. "What I canít get is why my son chooses to turn his back on his family and chooses frat parties over finding his motherís killer!"
Sam turned to look at Dean imploringly, hoping his eyes were speaking the words he couldnít voice while their father was in the room. "It was never about choosing that over you, it was about choosing something for me. I love you guys, youíre all I have, youíre everything but... I just need to be more than a hunter for the rest of my life."
"Dad, isnít there room for him to be both?" Dean cut in, trying to bridge the chasm he could see forming between his father and brother, one that left him flailing in the middle.
"No." John said flatly. "You canít walk away from this, Sam, not and expect to come back again."
"Youíd do that? Youíd kick me out because I want to make something of my life? How fucked up is that? Youíd be fine with me being a scam artist or a thief or a con man but if I actually try and further my education I get told never to come home? Do you realize how screwed up that is?"
Johnís eyes narrowed and he stared at his younger son, ignoring Deanís protests. "You went behind my back, Sam, that tells me you knew exactly what my reaction was going to be. Apparently youíre all grown up now so be a man and make your decision."
"Dad! Donít do this!" Dean cried.
"Shut up, Dean!"
"Donít talk to him like that, heís done everything youíve ever asked of him at the cost of his own future and his own dreams. He doesnít deserve it and you damn well know it!" Sam snarled at his father. "You really donít give a shit about either of us, do you? Weíre your flesh and blood, your family and all you care about is this holy crusade and to hell with the consequences. It doesnít matter how many times we get hurt or end up in hospital or even get arrested for you, itís all about the fucking quest and everything else be damned. Fine, you want me to be a man? Screw you, John, the only family Iíve ever had has been Dean and heís all Iíll ever want or need. You... screw you!" With that Sam turned and stormed out of the house with one last, desperate look at his brother.
"Sam!" John roared over the slamming of the front door. "Donít you dare go after him," he snarled to Dean when he started for the door.
"Or what, Dad, youíll disown me too?" Dean shot back. "God, heís your son!"
"Not any more he isnít," John replied angrily, heading through the house to slam out the back door.
For a moment, Dean looked on the verge of tears, but he collected himself with a sharp shake and raced around the house, gathering up Samís belongings as well as few personal mementos, stuffing them all into a large duffle bag, unable to believe this was happening. He dragged the bag outside, picking up the one that held Samís clothes from the trip as well, and threw them both into the Impalaís back seat.
After returning inside again to grab a few more things, Dean half-ran outside again, hitting the speed dial on his phone. "Where are you?"
Sam choked back the urge to sniffle like a dork. Bad enough he was fucking crying, he didnít need Dean to know. "At the park down the street. Dean... God, I never thought heíd throw me out for just wanting to go to college. I just wanted... I donít know, to be normal for once? How fucked up is that?"
"Its okay, Sammy, weíll work this out." Dean forced his voice to stay steady as he climbed into the car and tore out of the driveway, heading for the park. "Dadíll come around, it was just a shock for him, thatís all."
"No he wonít and to be honest, I donít really care. I just... I donít want to lose you. I meant what I said, Dean, you are my family, the only family Iíll ever need," Sam whispered harshly. "I canít lose you too."
"You wonít, Iíll always be here for you, Sammy," Dean promised, screeching into the parking lot, leaving the Impala parked slantwise across three spots and racing to the bench where Sam sat, looking lost and forlorn. Tossing the phone aside as useless, he sat next to the younger man and pulled him into a hug. "You really want to do this, so do it."
"Come with me? I donít think I can do this without you, Dean," Sam mumbled, pressing his lips against his brotherís neck.
"Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice cracking as he rubbed Samís back. "You said it yourself, you want a normal life; thatís not me, thatís not us."
"But I..." Sam sighed. "Youíll come and visit me? Call me? I just love you so freakiní much and Paolo Alto is in California for fuckís sake."
"California?" Dean asked before recovering quickly and flashing a grin. "Dude, youíre going to be a valley boy."
"Screw that, I plan on being a beach bum, lying in the sand and working on my tan... gotta make sure I donít get any tan lines," Sam chuckled. "Youíll need to come and check Ďem out, maybe oil me up."
"Sounds good to me, but you forget I know you, baby bro; youíre going to spend your life in the library studying and come out of that place with five degrees." Dean was silent for a moment before continuing. "So, just what are you going there for anyway?"
"I kinda figured it might be a good idea to do something that will benefit your sorry ass. Maybe Iíll be a doctor or something. Or how about I become a professor of the occult? I donít know yet beyond the fact that I want to make a difference, make things better for you, for us."
"Youíll do whatever you set your mind to, Sammy; if I know anything, itís that youíre stubborn." Dean gave a melancholy smile as he rested his chin against Samís temple. "Thatís why Iím not even trying to talk you into coming home."
"I just wish I had more time to be with you. I though Iíd have the rest of the summer or at least a few more weeks. I donít want to say goodbye yet," Sam murmured, holding on to Dean as tightly as he could. "I just want more time."
"We had last week," Dean offered, knowing it wasnít enough, that it would never be enough. "Any more and youíd be chafed." He chuckled quietly at this.
"I would have had you ride me so hard that I could feel it all the way to California if Iíd known."
Dean nodded at that and was silent for a while, watching the kids running around the playground; kids, God-willing, that would never go through what they had been through. "So, you heading out then?"
"I just... not yet. Just a few more minutes, hours, days... Stanfordís not going anywhere," Sam whispered, pressing his lips against Deanís Adamís apple and sucking on it lightly. "I wish I could inhale you, burn you into my skin."
"You saying Iím forgettable?" Dean asked, forcing a jovial note into his tone.
"Never. I just want you in my skin forever. Yeah, yeah I know, Iím being a girl but dammit, but I still want you a permanent part of me," Sam complained. "But I guess Iíd better go before Dad comes looking for you. I donít want you to get into any trouble over me and God knows heís pissed enough already."
"Like I give a fuck," Dean snorted, even though they both knew it was a lie. "I brought your stuff," he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Think I can bum a ride to the bus station?" Sam whispered, trying to hold on to every last second with Dean he could. "And youíll come to Stanford to see me, right? Dad canít keep track of you 24-7. You need to drag my ass out of the library every now and again or Iíll forget what sex is."
"Canít have that," Dean chuckled, though his voice was a little rough. "Iíll get out there every chance I get and remind you what a stud I am; not that youíd ever forget of course." He closed his eyes and forced himself not to pull Sam into a tight hug for fear that he would never let go.
Normal, Sam wanted normal, and if there was one thing their relationship was, that wasnít it. It was going to kill him, but heíd let Sam go, give him what he wanted; a real life, a good life, far from the insanity that made up Deanís existence.
"And yeah, I can get you to the bus station as long as you promise not to sniffle all over the seats."
"Shuddup," Sam chuckled brokenly, shoving against Dean as he finally let go and moved away. "Freak."
Deanís eyebrows rose as he stood and glanced back at his brother. "Iíd say the phrase Ďtakes one to know oneí fits well here, Sammy boy."
"Yeah, but Iím your freak and I always will be," Sam promised as he walked over to the Impala for what could possibly be the last time in a very long time. He slid a hand over the jet-black hood lovingly. Heíd actually miss the car, it was such a part of who Dean was it was almost a part of his personality.
"Take care of him for me, will you girl?" Sam whispered as he climbed into the passenger seat, knowing he was being stupid for talking to a car but it still made him smile. "Someone has to since I wonít be here to do it anymore."
"Talking to yourself again, Sammy?" Dean asked as he climbed in and started the engine. "Better be careful or theyíll send you away for that."
"Just saying goodbye is all," Sam muttered, ducking his head as a pink tinge spread across his cheekbones. "Iím gonna miss riding shotgun in her."
Dean smiled a bit at that and reached over to pat the younger manís thigh. "Donít worry, I wonít let anyone else warm the seat there."
"Better not," Sam groused. "I just got her broken in properly, kinda like Iíve finally managed to break you in too."
"Are you calling me old and comfortable?"
"Hey, whatever fits," Sam laughed.
"Little shit," Dean snorted as he pulled out onto the street and headed for what passed for downtown. "Iím not going to miss the crap you give me."
"Damn right you are. Iím the only one who can put you in your place short stuff."
Dean rolled his eyes at that and reached over to turn up the radio.
Laughing Sam slid back on the seat and let the music wash over him, living the moment and soaking up being with Dean. Reaching out he threaded one of his hands through the other manís and squeezed. "I love you, you know that right?"
Dean opened his mouth to make a wise crack, then shut it again and nodded. "Yeah, I know that - same with me, Ďkay?"
"Never doubted it for a second, never will," Sam replied smiling.
"Exactly. So you just worry about keeping up with the other eggheads out there in the land of sun and fun and leave the ass-kicking to me."
"Just... stay safe, okay? Donít let Dad talk you into doing anything that will get you dead. Call me selfish but I want you around for a long long time."
"Dude, do you think Iím stupid?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam.
"Not stupid just... you donít look after yourself, Dean, you always put Dad and me first. Iím not gonna be around to kick your ass if you try and do something stupid so you gotta be careful, man, promise me," Sam replied, his grip on Deanís hand becoming tighter as they pulled onto the street where the bus station was located.
Dean held off answering until heíd pulled up at the curb near the station. "I promise, Sammy," he said quietly, half turning in his seat to look at his brother. "Besides, do you think Iíd miss being around to see you crowned doctor of whatever the hell youíre going to study?"
"Kings get crowned, Dean," Sam laughed. "Iíll just get a piece of paper." Throwing caution to the wind, Sam leaned over and, wrapping his hand around Deanís necklace he tugged the other man forward and captured Deanís mouth with his own, pouring every ounce of love, passion and lust he had for Dean into the kiss.
"You take care of yourself, Sammy," Dean whispered, his lips brushing against Samís as he hugged him close, slipping a thick roll of bills in the younger manís pocket while he was distracted. "Call me and let me know you didnít fall in the can on the ride out, okay?"
"Dean, man..." Samís voice grew horse and his eyes watery. Fuck, he was gonna cry after all. "Just... you know..." Getting out the car before he turned into a complete pussy, Sam grabbed his gear and then turned and waved to Dean before walking into the terminal, refusing to allow himself even a final backwards glance.
As the closing of the car door echoed hollowly in the air around him, Dean swallowed hard, clenching his jaw as he took his feelings and squashed them down inside himself, knowing it was the only way he could survive.
He sat there in the car until the single bus at the station pulled out, then he started the car, driving home blindly and sitting in the driveway long enough that his father came out to see what was wrong.
Taking a shuddering breath, Dean locked the door on his emotions and plastered a fake grin on his face. "So, Dad," he called as he climbed out of the Impala, "what about those rakashas?"