Conversations by sammysslave
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Author's Notes:
I would have loved to see this in canon, but that didn't happen so I really wanted to write it. I hope you enjoy it. My eternal thanks to Supernaturalgrl and The Huntress for their support and beta. I couldn't do this without them.
The boys had reunited with John about a week ago. Out of the blue, he had called and wanted them to meet him in Aberdeen to track down what appeared to be a group of black dogs. The last several nights had been spent tracking and killing them off until the last of them had been dispatched back to Hell.

John had noticed how quiet Sam was, taking his orders, not arguing back and even though that was not at all like Sam, John took the easy way out and just let it be. He told himself that maybe all the time apart and Dean's influence had mellowed him. Inside, he knew that was a lie, but it worked for him for now. He was never any good at dealing with his youngest son. Truth be told, he probably wasn't any good at dealing with either of them, but Dean just took it. He didn't know right now which was worse, the blind obedience or the fierce defiance. They had issues all right, and just maybe they could work some of them out. He could have gotten Bobby to help him with this job, but he wanted, almost needed, to be with his boys. Just having them close was wonderful and if Sam wasn't going to push, than neither was he.

It was true that Sam wasn't pushing things with his father, but not for his own benefit. He was doing it for Dean. Dean had spent most of his life being the referee between them, and Sam had decided quite some time ago that when they found their Dad, he would just stop fighting and let Dean enjoy Dad being back. They had given themselves to each other and now, Sam could give Dean his father and peace in his family. After all the things that were said and done years ago, Sam had written off having much of a relationship with John, but Dean deserved to have him. Sam's love for Dean would give that to him.

Just letting things be proved to be difficult, but by far not the hardest thing about John being back. The hardest thing Sam would have to do was stay away from his brother, as they had decided that they were not going to tell Dad about their relationship until the demon was gone. So that meant a no-hands on policy, which meant no sleeping in the same bed. They had gotten so accustomed to sleeping together that they knew their bodies would just instinctively wind around each other. Sam never slept well, but curled around Dean he felt enveloped in safety and love and only there had he ever found any peace. The first night, John had showered first giving them a few stolen moments to comfort each other. Just gentle kisses and caresses, Sam assuring Dean he would be fine for a few days without sleep. He'd done it before and a little coffee went a long way, and Dad was unlikely to stay very long anyway.

So after Sam's turn at the shower, he stretched out on the same bed as John and actually did fall asleep. John was already sleeping and since he was with them had let himself relax a little and really never knew Sam was there until Sam woke him with a terrified scream. Dean was there in a heartbeat, concerned eyes and gentle hands coaxing Sam away from the nightmare and to his voice. Sam had been badly shaken and both boys seemed to forget he was even there. Dean held him for a few moments, forgetting that they were being watched and that's when John saw it. He saw the unspoken love and trust that lovers share. The way Sam nuzzled into Dean's neck, the quiet murmur of words into Sam's ear, all spoke loud and clear. His boys had fallen in love with each other. Unsure of what to do, he did nothing. He continued the charade as long as he could, while sorting out his feelings.

The charade ended on what was the fifth night of no sleep for Sam. He was surviving on coffee and catnaps and that was taking its toll. He was awake at two something in the morning, pretending to do research instead of sleeping, and decided enough was enough and he needed some air. He pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his gun, and a six pack before he slipped outside into the crisp night. He knew that he would probably catch hell from both of them for going outside, but he was getting claustrophobic in that room and needed to get out.

The Impala was right outside the door and he took a seat on her trunk and popped open a beer. He could do this. He had to do this, for Dean.

John had heard every move Sam made, but kept still. Truth be told, Dean had heard him too and sighed at the close of the door.

"I'll go talk to him" Dean whispered, knowing full well his Dad was awake too. "He's just wound up." Dean lied, he knew what was wrong and he knew he should fix it. It was killing him too; to not be wrapped around Sam at night, to not touch him, and Sam had the added bonus of swallowing all the emotions of Dad being around. He was going to go outside and tell Sam that enough was enough and they were going to tell John the truth. If they lost him, they would deal. But he was not going to let Sam suffer any more. Just as he moved to get up, his Dad spoke up.

"Mind if I give it a try?" John asked as he got out of bed.

"Umm, sure...just...it's Sammy so...yeah." Dean really had nothing to say to that. Their Dad was going to talk to Sam? Okay then. He felt himself tense at the thought of the potential shouting match that could ensue from this, but settled himself to wait.

John had no idea what he was doing, but something inside told him he needed to do this. They had some things to talk about and he had put it off long enough. He had cringed a little when he heard the door open, but knew Sam could take care of himself and wouldn't go far. Sure enough, when he finally looked outside he could see his youngest sitting on the car rubbing absently at his neck. John couldn't help himself, his baby boy was upset and even though talking was highly overrated in his book, Sam was a talker and maybe there were some things that needed to be said.

John swallowed and headed out to join his son.

Sam heard the door snick open and tensed, preparing himself for the lecture about how irresponsible he was, and didn't he know better than to leave the protection of the room.

John walked around the other side of the car and leaned against the truck.

"Hey son," John said quietly.

"Hey," was all Sam came up with as he waited.

"You okay?" John shifted uncomfortably against the car.

"Yeah, just needed some air, got a little confined in there."

They considered each other with a hesitancy that no one should have with family, let alone a father and his son. John watched the emotions Sam was feeling play out in his expressive eyes and it seemed to change with each heartbeat; anger, distrust, regret, love, defiance all there just beneath the surface.

"Sammy." John's tone had lost all it's usual authority and now held an insecurity that caught Sam off guard. "Can we talk about some things?"

"Things?" Sam tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice, but conversations about things never went well with them. He was too exhausted from hunting and not sleeping to keep control of this if Dad started in on him.

"Yeah, things, you...us...I guess."

Sam sat there a moment, John Winchester wanted to talk, not just talk, but about their relationship? He couldn't help himself and muttered "Christo" just to be safe.

"Guess I deserve that, but I'm not possessed Sammy. I'm worried about you."

"I'm okay, just tired. I don't sleep very well, usually I can rest more, but the other night was pretty intense."

"Nightmares? You always had them, ever since...only Dean could calm you down." John's voice was gentle in the still night. "I'm sorry Sam, about a lot of things and a-afraid that I pushed you so far away that I've lost you forever." John never looked up from the ground as he spoke, and although he didn't fear much, he did fear that Sam would just walk away from him so he didn't look up.

Sam swallowed the rest of his beer, contemplating his next move. If they were going to do this, he had some things to say, and yes, some apologies of his own. He grabbed another and motioned for his Dad to sit up next to him as he handed one over in a small act of contrition. Sam had actually thought about this theoretical conversation for years, never once believing it would take place. Now that it was, he was having trouble with the words.

"You haven't lost me forever, I'm here. I just...just don't know what to do. I don't know how to be what you want me to be, but I won't fight with you anymore. You deserve my respect and Dean deserves to not be in the middle of us, to have his family not trying to pull each other apart." Sam sighed heavily and continued. "I'm sorry too, for the way I left. I was a stupid, petulant teenager and handled the whole thing poorly. I know that, but I was terrified of this life and I hated that I was a disappointment to you. Nothing was ever good enough; I never lived up to standards, so I fought for a way out. I really just wanted you to love me, but I've never known how to get there."

John listened and sighed to himself as he really heard for the first time that he had made Sam feel like a failure and if that wasn't bad enough, he didn't even know that he loved him. "Jesus, Sammy, you were never a disappointment. I just wanted you to be safe. That meant being the best hunter I could make you. I pushed you so hard to keep you safe." He waited for Sam to say something, but just got silence so he continued. "If you were with me and Dean, I could protect you. When you wanted to leave, I panicked. I knew better than to give you an ultimatum, you of all people, but I did. I hated myself the minute I said those words and saw the hurt in your eyes, but I was too damn stubborn to take them back. I had buried the side of me that could just love you when your Mom died. Loving like that meant I could get hurt again, I thought that if I became more a drill sergeant and less a father, I could somehow survive it if something happened to one of you. Emotions equaled pain in my book, but I never meant for you to think you weren't good enough or that I-I didn't love you." John looked directly at Sam. "Do you still think that?"

The only way this was going to change is if they were honest with each other so he gave the only answer he could. "Yeah," Sam whispered into the night.

John rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed. What the hell did a father say to that? It had been so long since he talked to do more than issue an order; he hoped he could still find his inner father and make this right.

After a few moments, "Sam, do you know why I call you Sammy most of the time?

"Other than the fact that it annoys me?" Sam offered in an attempt to make his Dad smile.

John did smile. "Yeah, other than that, smart-ass." He took a deep swallow of his beer.

"Then no."

"Sam is the man you have become, and you are a hell of a man, I'll give you that, but Sammy is my baby boy. The baby boy that I held in my hands as he took his first breath. You will always, always be that to me and I am so sorry that I let you forget that. I hope there isn't too much water under our bridge for me to help you remember that I love you."

Sam realized he had tears trailing down his cheeks. His father had just told him for the first time in forever that he loved him. "You're my Dad, never too much water under any bridge to make that go away."

"Thank you." John said as he put his arm across Sam's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Sam let himself be surrounded by his Father's strong arms and realized just how much he had truly missed his father.

John felt Sam relax a little and he moved his arm a little to let his grown son snuggle. He put a gentle hand on his head and decided it was now or never to let Sam know he was okay with the relationship he sensed between his boys.

"I've noticed some changes in Dean too since I've been back. Being alone with you has been good for him; he acts happy, in fact he is acting how I first started acting when I fell in love with your mother. Does he love someone like that Sam?" John kept his voice calm and never let go of Sam, wanting somehow to convey that it was okay, but he wanted Sam to tell him the truth too.

Sam froze. Shit. Dean would freak if he answered that question, but how could he not? This was the first real conversation he could ever remember having with Dad and how could he not tell him the truth. After a few minutes of silence, John was actually beginning to think Sam wasn't going to answer him but Sam whispered, "Yeah, he does." Pause. "Me."

John held tight to Sam and nodded his head. "You don't have to tell me how you feel about him; I see it every time you look at him. Your eyes always spoke everything for you and they still do. It's okay. I can't say that I fully understand, but we love who we love. Just don't get all crazy in front me and it'll be fine"

"Thank you," Sam let out the breath he had been silently holding. He could only hope that Dean would be okay with Dad knowing about them. He felt like he had betrayed Dean's trust somehow.

John could literally feel Sam's exhaustion and knew he needed to be with Dean.

"Go inside, I know Dean is up and try to get some sleep." John kissed the top of Sam's head "I'm sure they have another room close by for me"

"No Dad, you don't have to, really its good having you around, just come inside and we can all sleep." A part of Sam was afraid that John was going to leave.

"Sam, I'm just getting another room. I promise I will be here when you wake up, and from the looks of those circles under your eyes, that might not be for quite some time. Whenever it is, I promise to be here. Go to sleep, you really look like shit."

Sam chuckled; the chick flick moment was over. Dad promised and that was good as gold. A Winchester never broke a promise. Sam really was tired, just the thought of lying down was enough to make him desperate to go inside. "Okay, go and get a key, I'll stand watch till you get back" Sam held up his .45.

John laughed, "Deal," and he slid off the trunk and headed for the office. Fortunately for them this was the kind of place that had a clerk on duty 24/7 for those late night rendezvous. He was back in a few minutes with the key for the room two doors down from his boys. Sam slid down and tossed their empties in the trash.

John walked over and pulled him into a hug. "'Night, Sam"

Sam smiled and whispered, "Its Sammy".

John smiled and Sam would swear he saw a tear in the old man's eye, but John Winchester didn't do that.

"Call me when you boys are up and we'll eat."

Sam yawned as he opened the door and John was already in his room.

"Jesus, that was a long talk. Where the hell did he go?" Dean was damn near bouncing with nerves. "I saw him walk away from you and where the hell is he now?" Dean knew he was raising his voice at Sam, but he just couldn't help it.

Sam sat quietly and said, "He got his own room."

"What the hell happened, Sam?"

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. "We talked, he said he loves us, loves me, and he knows about us and he's okay." Sam toed of his shoes. "He sent me in here, said I looked like shit. Said to call when we wanted to eat."

"Uh-huh...."

"Seriously Dean, I even said ‘Christo'. Please, I'm sorry. He asked about you being all happy and I just didn't want to lie to him when he seemed to already know and I'm sorry." Sam was rambling a little. "I know you didn't want him to know, but I couldn't...." He didn't know what else to do or say to make it better.

Dean was pacing around talking into the air, not stopping until he turned around and saw Sam just leaning with his elbows propped on his knees, holding his head. Okay, he was freaking out a little and upsetting Sam more. Dad said he was okay with this, he hadn't left, and he was just down the way. So what the hell was his problem, he had thought about telling Dad himself, so he needed to get a grip.

"Sammy, baby, I am sorry." Dean offered as he sat down next to him. "It's okay, you did the right thing. Hell, I was going to tell him myself, couldn't stand watching you be miserable, and hated not being able to touch you."

"No, I broke a promise to you, I just....Dean, I think he already knew."

"Not much gets past him, even if he is an old man." Dean chuckled as he pulled Sam close to him, gently rubbing the nape of his neck, already lulling him to sleep.

"‘m tired and I think my head is going to explode."

"Yeah, I know." Dean helped Sam out of his clothes and lay down. He pulled Sam to his chest and whispered, "Sleep, baby, I'm here." Sam mumbled something and he felt so warm and safe as he curled his fingers into Dean's belly that he just let the gentle arms of slumber pull him under into a deep dreamless sleep. Both men slept well into the next day, twined around each other for hours, neither moving other than to get impossibly closer to the other.

Dean snapped awake at the ring of his cell the next afternoon and he grabbed it before it made too much noise. "Hey Dad" he said quietly.

"Hey son, you boys not eating today? I told Sammy to call when you were up. You aren't...you aren't mad at me are you?

"What, no ‘course not, still sleeping is all. Sammy's pretty wiped out."

"Well, even he needs to eat. Meet me around six at the diner?"

"Six, we'll be there," and they hung up.

That gave Dean a couple hours to work with. Sam looked so peaceful, a part of him hated to wake him up, but there were other parts of him that really, really wanted to wake Sammy up with a smile on his face.

Gently, he rolled Sam onto his back and moved so that he had better access to the beautiful body now stretched beside him. Trailing his fingers gently down Sam's side he smiled when Sam shifted in response to the feeling. This could be fun, Sam rarely slept very soundly so Dean had little chance to enjoy him this way.

Sam's skin was warm, and he responded purely on an instinctive level when Dean stroked across it. A soft moan escaping from peaceful lips in reaction to the tongue gently circling his nipple, seductively nibbling and laving.

His brother's calloused hands caressed his hips, rubbing in wide circles on his way across the muscled belly beside him. He stroked Sam's belly and chest, just ghosting across the flesh enough to arouse Sam but not enough to fully wake him. Dean wanted Sam to float in this place for awhile, let his mind disengage and just be a being of sensation and pleasure, to just be blissfully unaware of anything other than Dean. All the while Dean was touching him, Sam was moaning softly, body gently undulating as it sought out as much of those exquisite feelings as it could.

Gradually, some part of his brain registered a conscious notion, and Sam thought he heard Dean speaking to him, softly murmuring sensual words of love, but he couldn't be sure and his body was so warm and contented that he didn't bother to open his eyes. All he needed to know was that Dean was there with him. Still mostly asleep, he snuggled dreamily; barely moving as he cuddled into Dean and sighed deeply as he breathed in his scent. He felt Dean's fingers tickling his belly as he stoked down and played with those delicate hairs beneath his navel. Sam whimpered as those skillful, familiar fingers found all the most wonderful spots to caress.

Moving slowly, Dean slid away from Sam and laid a path with his tongue down Sam's belly to his inner thigh and back up. Sam's legs moved slightly wider and Dean nuzzled into the soft down-like hair surrounding the base of his cock, inhaling the powerful scent of earthen spice that was all Sam. Dean was incredibly aroused just from seeing and hearing Sam enjoy these touches.

Sam shifted and moaned as Dean took the head of his cock into his mouth and tongued along the sensitive rim before pulling back and gently caressing his balls.

"Mmm Dean...." Sam's voice was soft, still hazy from sleep.

"Enjoying yourself, baby?"

"God yes"

"Good, that was the plan," Dean whispered as he tongued along the sensitive underside of Sam's cock

"Is there more to this plan?"

"Oh yeah, lots more...." He whispered as he moved up Sam's body with a touch that was delicate and intimate. With one hand, he traced gentle paths of seduction over Sam's body, pinching his nipples, randomly stroking across his stomach, making sure to touch all the skin he possibly could until he captured Sam's mouth in a kiss, sucking at the sleep-soft skin of his lips as he felt the passion growing in their bodies. Slowly he licked a path to and then sucked at that spot, that oh-so-sensitive spot right at the base of Sam's ear, and the groan Sam made, well fuck, it sounded like he was coming right the hell now and did all sorts of amazing things to Dean.

Dean's fingers teased at Sam's cock, lightly swirling around the tip, spreading the fluid and stroking along the vein.

Sam inhaled sharply at the touch, he was already hard and those delicate touches and Dean's thumb right the hell there had him moaning nonsense and he was pretty sure he was going to come just from that. Dean knew how close Sam was; he would always know by the way Sam's breath hitched, the low keening sound he made just before he came, but he wanted this to last awhile so he backed off for a moment letting Sam calm a bit, regaining some control of himself as well.

"Jesus Dean, please," Sam whimpered, caught by surprise when Dean pulled back, releasing his cock from his fingers. Dean bit down on Sam's collarbone then soothed the abused skin with his tongue, hot and rough. His hand once again wrapped around Sam's cock, spreading the slick precome with slow, firm strokes that made Sam's toes curl and his hips thrust.

Sam needed more, more of anything Dean. He reached over and rolled Dean on top of him. His weight felt perfect there. It felt decadent and breathtaking to press up against him, to feel the heat of his skin, to smell the scent that was exclusively Dean. He attacked Dean's mouth, nibbling at his lower lip as their bodies moved against each other, Sam's hands roaming over Dean's muscled back and dancing over his sides. Dipping his head, Sam bit down on Dean's shoulder, eliciting a primal growl from his brother, and pushing a serious combination of buttons. Dean needed to lift up now and come in Sam or stay there and come on him. He pulled away, panting, his pupils blown wide and dark with lust.

"Fuck Dean, want you," Sam groaned at the loss of contact with his brother.

"Want you too, need to have you baby...." Dean murmured as he ghosted his fingers up Sam's thighs, fanned his hands over his hips and pressed his thumbs into the tender skin where thigh met hip almost hard enough to bruise. He bent forward, hot breath drifting over Sam's cock. Sam almost stopped breathing when Dean's tongue swirled up his cock, curled obscenely around the head, and twirled back down from tip to root in one slow lick. When Dean cupped Sam's balls in one hand, and slid his mouth down his cock, his head moving at the precise rhythm that made his body writhe in that wonderful pleaseohthankGodfuckyes way, Sam couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering closed, and his head from dropping back however much he wanted to watch.

Sam heard the top flick open on the lube and thanked God, he needed to come now, hell he needed to come a while ago and the need to have Dean inside him was overwhelming everything else in his world. Dean could feel Sammy twitching, could hear his panting breaths, as he lubed his fingers and then carefully stroked his own cock.

Sam's legs moved up and his knees bent, his body asking for what it needed since his brain had lost the ability to do so. Dean slid his hand down Sam's length, circled a finger around Sam's center and pushed in, stroking one finger in and out, quickly adding a second and brushing across Sam's prostate sending his hips off the bed.

"FuckDeannowpleaseplease!!!"

Removing his fingers, he moved closer and positioned the head of his cock, pushing into Sam with one long, steady slide.

The burn of his muscles adjusting to accept his brother only served to sharpen the pleasure and Sam just moaned continually through the motion as Dean sank in balls deep. The moan was deep, drawn from his chest, and Dean could only echo it as that tight ring of muscle squeezed his cock along his entire length.

Dean rolled his hips and leaned forward, bracing his hands next to Sam's head, barely letting his chest brush across Sam's, fingers clutching the sheets. Sam's hands gripped into his brother's as Dean lifted his hips, slowly, deliberately, and then let them drop back down, just a fraction quicker.

The noise that Sam made was indescribable, but Dean desperately wanted to hear it again. He stroked out and in again, rubbing over that oh-so-sweet spot and that earned him a gasp and another beautiful moan.

"Jesus Sammy, so tight....so hot," Dean growled as he moved and quickly established a rhythm. He felt Sam shift, gaining enough leverage to match Dean's movements and ohfuckinghell that was good. The pleasure was the perfect combination of harsh and rough, soft and sweet. Dean loved it. Loved the way Sam moved under him, the way he arched his neck back, and especially the way he made those damned broken mewling sounds that drove him wild.

One of Dean's hands uncurled from Sam's and curled instead around his cock, and oh fuck, that was just perfect. Dean was stroking him just right, just the way he liked, fast, firm strokes, fingers sliding over the head with every upstroke, twisting his wrist on every down stroke.

Sam's fingers were leaving bruises on Dean's hand, but Dean didn't care, anymore than Sam cared about the fact that his nails were cutting into Sam's skin. If anything, it just added to their pleasure.

The whimpers from Sam as he pushed him to his climax pushed Dean towards that exquisite edge simultaneously. Dean was so fucking close he could taste it; it was all so damned good he was barely even aware of his own name.

He thrust in hard and fast, slamming into Sam's overworked prostate every fucking time as his mind surrendered control to his body. Every muscle in Sam's body tensed as he came, hot and fast, pumping into and over Dean's hand. All Dean remembered after that was the way Sam's muscles tightened on him, exquisite pressure on his cock, pleasure rippling over him as spasm after spasm rolled through Sam's body and over his cock. His orgasm hit as his balls tightened and pulled up and all he could do was drive home again and again, pumping his fluid deep into Sam. He was completely spent as his arms gave way and he collapsed. When he had recovered slightly, Dean moved to shift off of his brother, but Sam's arms held him still as he whispered something Dean didn't really hear, but understood none the less.

"We should shower baby, we're meeting Dad for dinne.r"

"Dinner? What time is it?"

"Five-ish."

"Huh, guess I was a little tired."

Dean ran a finger across the still dark patches of skin under Sam's beautiful eyes. "Yeah, a little. I'm sorry Sammy, I should have done something, told him...I-I don't know, something."

"S'okay baby. I'm fine and in the long run, we may have gotten a piece of Dad we never had before. If we did, then it was worth it."

"I love you Sammy."

"Love you, always. Now let's shower and go get dinner." Sam yawned and made his way to the bathroom, Dean close behind.

Half an hour later, they strolled into the diner and spotted their Dad already in a booth.

John stood when he saw them and Sam wrapped his arms around his father in a huge hug.

"Nice to see you too son."

Sam didn't let go.

"Uh, Sammy...you wanna sit down?"

"It's your fault, you had to go and tell him you love him, now he is your puppy."

Sam let go and smacked Dean on the back of his head.

"Hey! Bitch."

"M-not a puppy, jerk." Sam glared over at Dean.

"Yeah, you so are."

Sam sighed as they sat down then grinned, "Well, I guess a puppy is better than a girl."

Both boys started laughing and John just shook his head and laughed with his sons. How he had managed, through everything, to have such good men as his sons, he still didn't know. He didn't know, but he wouldn't change a thing. For some reason, his boys had found each other and just maybe he was able to find them again.