This is going to break me clean in two.
This is going to bring me close to you.
“I think you should go, Sammy,” Dean said softly. He moved forward, blocking Dad from view. He didn’t want Dad to influence Sam anymore than he already had. Their hateful words were too much for him to listen to anymore. Sam had worked hard for this and despite every obstacle, himself and Dad included, he’d done it. Sam had gotten himself a full ride to an amazing school like Stanford; the road to a better, secure life. And he should go.
He deserved it.
“What?” Sam gasped, his chocolate brown eyes wide with disbelief.
He should have been angry at Sam, he should have wanted to hurt him as badly as Sam had hurt him by applying to Stanford without even telling him, he should have wanted to back Dad up and keep Sam with them forever…but he couldn’t. He really believed that this was for the better.
Dean smiled, well aware of the fact that it didn’t reach his eyes and that he wasn’t the only one that noticed, but letting Sam know all the same that it was made to show him the things Dean couldn’t say. Things like I never meant for you to think I wouldn’t support you, or I’ve never once underestimated you or the things you deserve, and of course the simplest and the hardest of all things for him to say when his heart was as damaged as it was, I love you.
It didn’t matter that their relationship had shifted in the past two months, or that he finally had Sam as his own, because that wasn’t what this was about. And he wasn’t going to let their new found physical relationship color his feelings about Sam’s leaving. This was about what was best for Sam, and that certainly wasn’t him.
“You should go,” he repeated. “It’s what you’ve worked for. You earned it.” He meant that in more ways than one and he hoped Sam understood that.
“Dean, you…” Sam stopped and shook his head, clearly at a loss for words. Which made this just a little easier for Dean. If he started in with his pleading or his guilt at leaving behind their relationship Dean would lose what was left of his rationality and kiss the sense right back into Sam, in front of Dad.
That was a whole other fight they didn’t need to have right now, if ever.
“Come on, Sam,” Dean chided gently. “We all know this is what you want. You didn’t do this just to hurt us, did you?” He was trying to make this a little easier on Sam before he could bust out the puppy dog eyes and break what was left of Dean.
“No!” Sam cried vehemently. “Never! Dean, I wouldn’t do that to you.” His voice turned softer, pleading, towards the end. It wasn’t necessary though, Dean knew Sam hadn’t done this to hurt him. He may have known it would, but he hadn’t done it for that reason.
“I know you wouldn’t, Sammy,” Dean soothed. “I’m not even mad. I just want you to be happy.”
Sam stared at Dean, blinking slowly. He didn’t get it, Dean knew. He couldn’t understand how Dean could tell him to walk away, and honestly, Dean couldn’t either. He just knew that he wanted Sam to be happy, that he didn’t want to spend the rest of their days together in angry silence followed by broken lovemaking. Or worse, he didn’t want Sam to take off in defiance and never come back or call again. Dean wanted all of Sam, but he would take anything Sam was willing to give him, even if it was all the way from California.
As much as it hurt to let Sam go, he knew it was the best thing for them both. Especially Sam, and hadn’t that been the purpose of his entire life? To give Sam everything he possibly could?
Of course, Dean’s patience and understanding only went so far. If Sam went to Stanford there would be no one else. Sam with someone else was just something Dean couldn’t tolerate.
xXx
Dean couldn’t be serious. How could he tell Sam to go? How could he stand there so calmly and say that he just wanted Sam to be happy? Didn’t this hurt? Dad had flipped out on him and within seconds they were in their latest screaming match, with Dean standing by anxiously, clenching and unclenching his fists reflexively.
Then suddenly Dean stepped in and told him to go, told him to fucking leave for Stanford and forget Dad. In front of Dad! The one and only time Dean had ever defied their father for anything other than caring for Sam after near death experiences or even broken bones.
Dean, Dad’s little soldier, was being calm and reasonable. He was defying Dad and not even lying about it as far as Sam could tell. His brother was being as open and honest as he could without the help of alcohol.
His gut clenched and his hands shook. Sam wanted to go to Stanford but he didn’t want to leave Dean, not with Dad, not in this life. He wanted to give Dean everything, he wanted to return the favor and make Dean’s life the best he could. He wanted to tell Dean he loved him and not be afraid that he would be eating his words right along with his brother’s fist.
Sam didn’t know what to say or what to do with his feelings or his confusion. The urge to hug Dean, to kiss him right then and there with Dad watching in horror and disgust, and not give a damn, was becoming harder to ignore with every soft, loving glance from Dean.
Who, thankfully for them both, Dad couldn’t see.
“I…” he started softly, dropping his eyes to the floor. How could he be so selfish as to leave Dean here? To never ask him if this was okay, if Dean would hate him for it, or go with him? “Do you…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, to ask Dean if he hated him.
“I don’t,” Dean quickly spoke up, reading Sam’s mind as easily as he always had. Dean’s smile grew, this time reaching his eyes, and he shook his head. “Never could.”
Sam laughed in relief. He should have known Dean would be able to ease every fear he had without having to voice them. His brother had been able to do that since they were kids, and some things would never change. More importantly, the things between them would never change, for better or for worse.
He chewed his bottom lip nervously. Dean didn’t hate him and in his words ‘never could’, but could he leave with Sam? Would he, when Dean so clearly loved hunting, was so clearly loyal to their father? Would begging or pleading do him any good?
It's all up in the air and we stand still to see what comes down.
I don't know where it is, I don't know when, but I want you around.
When it falls into place with you and I, we go from if to when, your side and mine are both behind it's indication.
“Dean,” Dad finally spoke up. Of course his silence could only last so long what with this decision affecting his life. “You can’t be serious. How can you tell your brother to walk away from this?”
Dean’s eyes flashed with realization. It dawned on Sam that Dean had forgotten Dad was still there, warmth flooding his body at the thought of Dean being so focused on him and the way things could turn out between them that Dean hadn’t even given Dad another thought. That warmth quickly turned to cold dread as he absorbed Dad’s question.
He watched Dean curiously, wondering if the question Sam was too afraid to ask, would bring his brother back to his senses. Especially coming from Dad. Dean stepped forward and turned slightly, so that he could see both Dad and Sam again.
“Walk away from this?” Dean asked smoothly. “Is it the fact that Sam wants to stop hunting that bothers you? Is that what you’re really angry about? Because most fathers would want to know how he could walk away from us.”
Sam swallowed convulsively. This had to be a dream or Dean was possessed, because never in his life had he heard Dean speak to Dad that way, had never heard Dean really speak to anyone like that unless they’d hurt Sam. Dean for all his biting sarcasm was respectful of those who were respectful to Sam. He never cared if they were respectful to him. Because fuck them, as he often said.
Dean’s words hit him harder than they had Dad, Sam realized as he took in Dean’s open expression. His mouth was twisted with bitter understanding and his eyes shone with the never ending guilt he kept inside, the guilt Sam always saw just before Dean’s lips crushed his own in a frenzied, on the edge of control kiss.
It hurt Dean to say those things to Dad, to know that no matter what Dad said, it was the idea of Sam leaving that hurt him most. Of Sam walking away from them. That wasn’t what Sam wanted at all, he didn’t want to leave Dean behind. He wanted to take them both out of this and into a better life where they could be together.
They could start over and no one would ever have to know that they were brothers. They could get an apartment, go to college, be normal for the first time in their lives since mom had died, or as normal as you could be when you were fucking your brother. That was a minor detail though in the grand scheme of things and one that didn’t bother Sam nearly as much as it should have.
Sam tore his gaze from Dean to take in Dad’s shocked expression. He grinned, unable to stop himself. It was a moment he wasn’t likely to relive or an expression he’d likely see again and he wasn’t taking that for granted.
Dad’s jaw hung open in a useless attempt at argument, a strangled sound caught somewhere in his throat. His face was turning red and his hands were actually beginning to shake. He was at a complete loss for words. Something else Sam was sure he’d never see again.
“It’s the same thing,” Dad finally managed to sputter out. “This is our life and when he walks away from this life, he walks away from us.” He fixed Dean with an angry glare that scared Dean about as much as the dark.
“No,” Dean snapped. “It doesn’t. Don’t put that on me.” Dean’s voice was almost threatening as he took a step towards Dad. “I’m not giving up my brother over some stupid argument. It’s his life and he has every right to make what he wants of it.”
If Sam thought he was surprised before, he was downright floored now. Was Dean really arguing in favor of another life? Dean lived for the kind of things they did, got some kind of high off of their hunts. He never saw his brother more alive than after a good hunt, maybe during, but it was hard to notice those kinds of things when you were trying to keep each other alive. But after, just before Dad left them alone and Dean’s hands found their way into Sam’s pants, and his tongue into Sam’s mouth, his eyes were bright and shining with the thrill of it.
This is going to bring me clarity.
This'll take the heart right out of me.
Sam lowered his head. Dean would never want to leave this life behind like Sam so desperately did, but still he argued for it, for Sam. He couldn’t watch his brother hurt himself for him again. He couldn’t watch all his hopes wash away with heated gazes.
“We need him, Dean. How can you let him walk away from us when we need him? You need him.”
Did Dean need him? Did he really need Sam screwing up his life? Making him question their father who he’d always idolized and admired? Making Dean feel weak and filled with guilt over their relationship? Did Dean really need that on top of everything else?
“Like this,” Dean answered smartly. He turned to Sam. “Sammy,” Dean asked. “This is what you want…isn’t it?”
Sam’s head jerked up. There it was. There, he knew he’d heard it in Dean’s voice then, the fear and hope that this would turn out to be Sam’s idea of a joke, a way of keeping them on their toes, anything but what it really was. His express ticket out of this life and this family.
He studied Dean’s face intently, watching as the open, honest expression his brother had been wearing earlier faded into one of blank curiosity. He was trying his best not to influence Sam, he really wanted to know if this was what Sam wanted, plain and simple.
Dad on the other hand was glaring sullenly at him, his arms crossed over his chest now. He was doing his damndest to let Sam know that his decision was going to come attached with serious consequences no matter how understanding Dean may be about things.
The thing was, Sam didn’t give a damn about Dad’s consequences so long as Dean’s didn’t come along with the package. Dean’s consequences would be far worse than Dad’s. With an evil mind like his brother’s there was no telling how much he would make Sam suffer.
“Sammy,” Dean prompted. “It’s okay. Just tell me what you want.”
Tell Dean what he wanted? There were so many things Sam wanted, like Dean on his knees and his pretty lips wrapped around Sam’s dick, for one. But he was pretty sure that, that wasn’t the kind of thing Dean wanted to hear him say, at least not in front of Dad.
He wasn’t really sure what Dean wanted.
Sam crossed the small distance between them, the older Winchester watching him warily. Chocolate brown eyes searched gold flecked green for the answer to the question he needed to hear the most.
What did Dean want?
His brother’s eyes flashed with hunger as they flitted across Sam’s mouth and back up to his eyes. Dean’s lips tilted up into a knowing grin, a touch of sadness coloring his normally filthy promised gaze that could have Sam blushing ten different shades of red.
And like that, Sam had his answer.
Without thought of consequences he wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist and jerked him forward. “I want this,” Sam murmured, crushing his mouth to Dean’s. “I want you.”
His brother froze beneath his lips, his hands coming to rest hesitantly on Sam’s waist. Sam smiled and cupped Dean’s face gently. He didn’t care that Dad was standing behind them, he didn’t care that Dad could see what they’d been hiding from him for the past two months, and he didn’t care what Dad would think or say about this, about them.
He loved Dean. Dad’s fear or disgust meant nothing to him and he could only pray that it wouldn’t mean anything to Dean either.
His fears were eased when Dean finally began to respond to his touch, one hand gripping Sam’s waist, drawing him closer, and the other coming up to rest against the hand cupping his cheek. His kisses slowly turned from hesitant to insistent, his tongue licking it’s way into Sam’s mouth with hungry fervor.
Stanford had nothing on Dean.
xXx
Dean stood unmoving as Sam devoured his mouth, his thumb stroking the underside of Dean’s jaw, begging for his acceptance. As if Dean could turn him away now.
He hadn’t been able to do it two months ago and there was no way he could do it now, he was in far too deep to do anything but kiss Sam back with just as much hunger.
He gripped Sam’s hips tightly and dragged him up against his body, moving a free hand to cover one of Sam’s.
“This is what you want?” Dean asked huskily. “You sure?” He brushed his thumb slowly over Sam’s hipbone, savoring the feel of overheated skin as he waited nervously for Sam’s words.
Sam dragged his teeth over Dean’s lower lip and grinned. “I’ve always been sure,” he admitted shyly.
Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat. Sam said things like that to him all the time when Dean’s mind was too hazy with lust for him to lash out with a sarcastic retort or an angry fist.
It scared him to hear Sam say things like. It made everything all too real and the guilt over fucking his baby brother more unbearable than ever. But now it just made him warm inside and his skin too tight, his fingers itching to explore Sam’s body and remind himself of the sounds he could elicit with just the right touch.
“Me too,” Dean confessed. He may have answered Sam’s sappy words in the heat of the moment before, too caught up in the pleasure to realize how much he could damage Sam, but he’d never admitted anything like that to Sam outside of the bedroom. Least of all, in front of Dad.
Dad. Shit.
Dean’s face drained of color and Sam’s worried eyes searched his. Dean pressed his lips together in a tight, thin line and tried not to panic. What the hell was he supposed to say to Dad? How did he explain Sam’s tongue down his throat or his hands on Sam’s hips?
There was no explanation outside the obvious. That he was fucking his baby brother with no intentions of stopping and with, well, not enough remorse.
Sam’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what Dean was thinking. Apparently Sam’s bold move hadn’t been nearly as thought out as Dean had assumed. He had as about much of a plan as Dean did.
This is going to bring me to my knees.
I just want to hold you close to me.
They stepped apart slowly, knowing they had to face Dad soon before he regained his senses and tried to kick both their asses, but not before Dean could press one last kiss to the corner of Sam‘s mouth. He gave Sam a reassuring smile and bit down on his tongue before he could do something even more foolish and tell Sam he loved him. Or some pathetic excuse of an attempt.
Now would not be the time for that. Not until they’d dealt with Dad and sat down and talked things out. He couldn’t be the reason Sam stayed here, not if he wanted more. Dean needed Sam to want to be here, otherwise what they had would eventually fade with Sam’s resentment. And Dean couldn’t have that. He needed his brother’s love more than he needed air.
He felt Sam’s hand slip into his, his fingers gently threading through his own. Sam gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and suddenly Dean wasn’t so afraid of Dad or what he thought. He could pretend all Dad asked him to, but he would always need Sam, would always crave his touch. It didn’t matter what Dad did or what he said, Sam was always going to be it for Dean.
Sam couldn’t hear that though, not when he hadn’t made his decision. A welcomed attack of tongue and lips, and murmured words of promise in the heat of the moment didn’t count as decision making as far as Dean was concerned. Not when that person was Sam and his future was on the line.
“Sam,” he said, clearing his throat. “Why don’t you go down to the diner and wait for me there, okay?”
Sam’s head whipped to the side, staring at Dean incredulously. “But, what-”
“Please.”
One word, just one word and Sam knew that Dean was serious. He had to do this alone. He had to try and make Dad understand that he just couldn’t do without Sam, not as long as Sam wanted him too.
His younger brother hesitated, his fingers flexing around Dean’s. With a heavy sigh he finally nodded and let Dean’s hand drop. Sam turned to go, his shoulders tight with misgivings, and Dean knew he couldn’t send Sam out worrying like he was.
Probably about whether Dad could talk him out of loving Sam, or at the very least sleeping with him.
Dean stopped him with a gentle hand, his fingers wrapping firmly around Sam’s wrist. When Sam turned, watching him curiously, he tilted his mouth up in a crooked grin and gave a gentle tug. Sam hesitated a split second before giving in and moving closer to Dean, his mouth a tight, thin line.
Dean wrapped an arm around Sam’s neck and brought their mouths back together. Dad had seen them kiss once, why not twice? He’d have to get used to it anyway now that things were out in the open. Dean nibbled at Sam’s bottom lip until he felt the tension drain out of Sam’s body.
More relaxed with Dean’s mouth back on his, Sam’s arms slipped around Dean’s waist and held them tightly together. He licked his way into Dean’s mouth and sighed in contentment, his eyes falling shut.
Dean slid a hand between them, pushing at Sam’s chest. He wanted to calm Sam down, not heat things up. There would be plenty of time for that later once he’d had words with Dad.
Sam’s eyes fluttered open, revealing liquid heat. He growled low in his throat, his only protest at being told no, and took a much needed step back. Dean grinned suggestively and devoured Sam’s mouth with bruising force as he rolled his hips promisingly against Sam‘s.
Let Sam think about that while he waited in the diner, his pants painfully tight as he waited for Dean. It wasn’t fair for Sam to be sitting comfortably in the diner while Dean was stuck in their motel room sporting the hard on of a lifetime and trying to explain the situation to Dad all the while clinging to what little dignity he had left.
“He’ll never change my mind,” Dean swore, releasing Sam’s mouth reluctantly. It wasn’t I love you, but it was more than Dean had thought he could manage.
Sam took a shaky breath and nodded, walking backwards to the door. Dean watched him go, his gaze locked with Sam’s until the door closed with a loud snick in the too quiet room.
Beautifully Broken by Poetically_Pathetic
Author's Notes:
This has been done for ages, maybe even close to a year now. I'd forgotten all about it.