Jagged sharp rocks sliced into his palms and the soles of his feet as he scrambled over their uneven face. His blood making the stones slippery and even more treacherous but still he climbed. Higher, faster. His heart pounding in his chest almost, almost, loud enough to drown out the sounds of the inhuman shrieks and howls coming from behind him. Close. Too close. So close he swore he could feel their hot, rotting, breath on the back of his neck. No matter how fast he climbed, they were always right there. He could hear them, but he did not dare to turn around and see them.

Please... help me please... He begged silently, because he simply couldn't draw enough breath into his scorched lungs to speak. He would have screamed if he could, but every breath he took felt like fire filling his lungs and it was agony. But if he stopped breathing, if he stopped moving, they would catch him and...

His back, sides, shoulders, and hips were covered with deep bleeding gouges from their claws. When they'd managed to catch him before. His blood flowing freely from the scratches, weakening him further, but still he struggled on. Because he knew if he stopped, things worse than death would be waiting for him. Horrors he'd only begun to imagine...

Help me! Please!

Samuel...

Dean sobbed when no answer came to his pleas. No answer. Never an answer. Like before... He'd been abandoned again, and only Hell was waiting for him. He couldn't run from it. He couldn't hide. He stumbled, only briefly, but they were on him in an instant. Claws and teeth tearing into his flesh and finally he screamed.

***

Dean sat up so quickly in the bed he nearly fell out of it. For a few heart stopping moments forgetting where he was entirely. The terror he felt from the nightmare following him to the waking world, and he was breathing so fast he was nearly hyperventilating.

He could still hear their howls of hunger. Rage. He could still feel the phantom echo of their claws ripping into his fragile flesh. Tearing at his flesh with their jaws. Every second he expected to see one of them leap out of the shadows to devour him, and only one rational thought filtered through the chaos of panic he was trapped in.

"Samuel!"

Sam's heart was pounding against his chest. Fear... adrenalin and fear coursed through his veins. Terror filled his mind.

Help me.

Samuel knew that voice. His eyes snapped open and he felt another brush of Dean's mind, this time even more panicked. There were no sounds coming from his room, no shouts... just the mental plea that he heard at soul level.

Throwing the heavy comforter off, Sam was off the bed and heading to Dean's room.

He was there to see Dean sit up and call his name out loud this time.

"Right here." Moving right next to the bed, Sam closed his arms around Dean, pulling him up against his lower chest and holding him. "It was a dream... a nightmare, you're safe." He tightened his hold and deliberately brushed Dean's mind with his, trying to calm, and to talk to him in whichever manner worked best. Move over, I'll sit with you a while.

Dean felt Samuel’s arms around him almost before he even realized the angel was even there. Panic blinding, deafening him, it was all he could see, feel, taste, but then there were strong arms surrounding him with warmth. Samuel’s voice piercing through tight noose of fear that was choking him, and the first real breath that reached his lungs was of the angel’s scent. The monsters were gone. It was just Samuel with him, holding him. Only him…

He felt so much relief then he couldn’t help the choked sob that tore from his throat as he all but collapsed against Samuel. Wrapping his arms tight around the angel. Holding on even tighter than he’d held onto him when they’d been flying. Trying to burrow himself as close as he could possibly get to the angel’s warm body where he knew he would be safe. Always safe.

When he felt the gentle touch of the angel’s mind touch his, Dean nodded shakily and obeyed. Scooting over a little bit in the bed to allow Samuel to sit beside him, though he did not release his hold. It probably would have been easier to cut off his own arms right now than to let Samuel go.

“M’sorry…” Dean mumbled softly against the angel’s chest. Realizing with some embarrassment that he must have woken Samuel up from his sleep with his nightmare, but he simply couldn’t regret the angel being here now. Not when the cold terror he’d felt in the nightmare was finally starting to bleed away thanks to Samuel’s warmth.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. I saw… When I died… I saw things… I thought I was back… there…” The young man haltingly described what he had dreamed, shivering a little at the memory of the nightmare that he knew was more than a nightmare. It was more a promise. Of what was waiting for him…

Dean swallowed hard, the wounds beneath the bandages wrapped around his lower arms beginning to ache a little. Or maybe that was all in his head too. He didn’t know, but he shivered again as he finally asked the question that he’d been afraid to.

“Am I… going to Hell…?”

As Dean spoke of what he’d seen, Sam didn’t have to try to visualize, he’d seen those sights too. He saw hell every time he opened its gates and sent another demon where it belonged. The sights, the screams, the smells... the pain and misery, if he dwelled on it for too long, he would do nothing but brood or cry for man.

Bending his head and kissing the top of Dean’s head, he promised himself... this was one man he would not cry for. He wouldn’t let him slip. He’d dragged him out of the mouth of death, and he wasn’t about to let him get sucked into hell.

He felt the convulsion of Dean’s throat against his chest, and knew the question was coming. Tensing, he took a deep breath.

“Not if I have anything to say about it. And not if...” He had to give Dean the truth, all of it. “If you had died, there would have been no escape from hell. Taking your own life is a mortal sin.” He felt Dean tense, and he stroked his back. “But you didn’t die, you’re alive. You have a second chance.”

If anyone deserved one, it was this boy... this man who had spent his life in an asylum for nothing more than his ability to see truth. Life wasn’t fair. There were no excuses for suicide. He knew the manta... he knew it too well... but under the circumstances... stupid rule.

“It will take hard work. You will have to make sure your good deeds outweigh the sin of taking your life, but you have a lifetime to do it in.” He lifted Dean’s chin and made him look up at him. “I’ll help you, you’re not alone.”

Dean listened to the angel’s words carefully. Samuel’s reassurances giving him a little comfort, but he was still worried. He didn’t want to go to Hell, and because of that, of course the young man regretted trying to kill himself. However he couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t tried to kill himself, if Samuel would have ever come for him. If he would have spent the rest of his life in the asylum without ever having known the angel…

He honestly wasn’t sure which thought was more terrifying, and there was still a chance, after everything, he would still go to Hell. If his ‘good deeds’ did not outweigh his sin… What did Samuel even mean by good deeds? Dean wasn’t sure he even knew where to start…

But looking up into Samuel’s beautiful eyes, he felt nothing but love and trust for him, and when the angel said he would help him, Dean believed him.

The young man snuggled close to the angel again, burying his face against Samuel’s neck, just wanting to stay like this in his arms for the rest of the night. He was afraid to close his eyes again. He didn’t want to go back to that nightmare, or any other nightmare. He was so tired of having nightmares. When he was asleep. When he was awake. The only time he didn’t have them it seemed was when he was with Samuel.

“Can I… sleep with you tonight?” Dean finally whispered hesitantly. Almost hating to do so, considering Samuel had said earlier he thought he was ‘brave’ but what would the angel think of him now that he couldn’t even sleep alone in his own room, with a nightlight even, without having nightmares?

Looking into the fathomless depths of Dean’s eyes, Sam was humbled by the absolute trust he read in them. After all the set backs in his life, after every disappointment, every lie, every darker day following a dark one, that he could still believe was a miracle.

He smiled as Dean ducked his head down and buried it in his neck. He seemed to fall prey to attacks of shyness, and it was very endearing. Odd... usually it was Sam who comforted, but somehow the even rhythm of Dean’s heart against his chest felt... soothing might not be the right word.

Before he could think on it some more, Dean was asking to sleep with him. Sam laughed softly at the phrasing. It was a good thing he was neither human nor a demon, because the acceptance of that offer would mean something very different from one of them.

“I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” he promised, but he felt Dean stiffen and tense. “Alright, I’ll be here when you wake.” You make it hard to refuse you, my son. Leaning his head against the headboard, Sam closed his eyes.

Dean smiled against the angel’s neck when Samuel finally agreed to stay with him tonight, and the young man snuggled even closer to him as the angel got comfortable in his bed. Hugging around Samuel’s middle and pillowing his head comfortably against the angel’s chest. Finally feeling himself relaxing, exhaustion tugging at him as he settled against Samuel’s warm body.

The panic he felt from the nightmare not completely gone, but it seemed very far away now and he allowed his eyes to drift closed. No longer fighting the pull of sleep because he knew he wouldn’t have any nightmares, at least tonight, with Samuel watching over him.

Dean didn’t have any nightmares, but he still dreamed.

He dreamed of Samuel’s comforting voice, whispering to him. Promising him everything would be ok. That nothing would hurt him. That he would never be alone again…

He dreamed of Samuel’s gentle touch. Always so kind. Taking away pain. When the angel had taken away the memory of the orderly’s foul touch from his body. Always so careful, when Samuel had held him so close as they flew. So warm, when the angel’s fingers brushed against his flesh in the bathroom…

He dreamed of Samuel’s lips. Kissing his forehead. His cheek. His lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Samuel the way he had seen on some television shows. Their lips touching for more than just a few seconds. He wanted to know. Wanted to know so badly what it would feel like… what he would taste like…

When Dean woke up, it was to the sound of a strong heartbeat beneath his ear. Samuel’s chest rising and falling gently beneath him. Sunlight warming his face as it spilled through the curtains of his window. Bathing the whole room in a warm golden glow, and as he turned his face to look at Samuel, if Dean hadn’t already known he was an angel, he still would have still thought it now.

He was so beautiful… so…

Dean swallowed hard as he felt his stomach clench. The fluttering he felt he’d almost grown used to every time he looked at Samuel more intense, and the warmth was back. This time accompanied by an ache in his groin and he realized his penis was hard.

The young man flushed in embarrassment, even though Samuel was asleep and couldn’t see it. Dean was always embarrassed when this happened to him. He hated it. It reminded him… it reminded him of Rick. The older man was always pushing his hard penis against him, making him touch it, forcing it into him… Sometimes Rick had even touched him until he got hard like this and kept touching him until… He hated it. Just like he hated everything the older man did to him.

Sometimes when he got hard like this he could ignore it and it would go away on his own, but sometimes… sometimes he would get so hard it almost hurt and it wouldn’t go away until he touched himself, and to his shame he knew this was one of those times. He was already aching a little now…

God, why did this have to happen when he was laying next to Samuel? What would he think if he woke up and saw that he was hard? Saw that he was just as… disgusting… as Rick?

Horrified by that thought, Dean thought maybe if he touched himself quickly he could make himself go down before the angel woke up and Samuel would never find out. So, inching his hips away from the angel’s body a little so Samuel wouldn’t feel him, Dean slid his hand down the front of his pajamas. Feeling a little sick as he curled his fingers around himself, even as his penis jumped in his hand as he began to stroke it. Closing his eyes, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible.

He wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to sit on a roof and watch people. He didn’t have to read and learn about them from books. Admiring them from afar was a thing of the past.

Everywhere he went, Dean was with him. Even when he flew, even though Dean hated to fly, he came with him.

Then one day, Dean had his own wings. They flew up in the sky so high... higher than any others had been before, and they embraced. Dean's strange but fresh ideas, had them kissing as they fell from the sky, only to open up their wings at the last moment.

*

Though a small smile spread across Sam’s face, he knew the dream was wrong. No, dreams weren’t wrong, but it could never be. He’d just accept the gift of the dream, and treasure it for what it was... a lovely story.

A movement had him opening his eyes. It didn’t stop. As the haze of sleep lifted, he knew he was with Dean... smelled the boy’s unique scent mixed with the scent of his own soap.

“Dean?” He raised himself up and saw the back and forth jerking motions under the thin sheet. His cheeks grew warm as he swept his gaze up to Dean’s eyes.

Dean tried to work his hand over his flesh as fast as he could. Just wanting to get it over with, but it wasn’t helping, not at all. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong this time, but it only seemed to make his ‘problem’ worse, not better, and he was close to tears of frustration when he heard Samuel’s voice and he swore his heart froze in his chest.

His hand stilled immediately on his flesh as his eyes flew open, staring up at the angel in utter horror of being discovered doing… this… For a few panicked heart beats he felt completely frozen, and then he ripped his hand out of his pajamas as though his own touch burned him.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” Dean stammered. His cheeks aflame with shame and barely able to hold back his tears of humiliation and disgust at himself. Oh god… what Samuel must think of him now. Oh, please don’t let him think he was like Rick. Please…

“I won’t do it again. I swear. I won’t… please don’t send me away…” He begged softly, his voice breaking as the tears he’d been fighting to hold back finally slipped down his cheeks.

As expressions of shock, embarrassment, fear and shame crossed Dean’s features, Samuel’s heart constricted. This went way beyond ordinary embarrassment, and the apology... He shook his head no, because it wasn’t necessary, but Dean went on.

When he started to beg not to be sent away, when he started to cry, Sam shook his head again and tried to find the right words. “No... I’ll never send you away, not ever.”

They didn’t do it. They didn’t erase the pain in the boy’s eyes, and they didn’t stop the tears.

Samuel shifted, and moved his hand under the sheet. “It’s natural... it’s called masturbation. Everyone does it, Dean.” He brushed his hand over Dean’s erection, felt him lift up. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll show you,” he whispered, looking for the slightest sign of rejection, but finding none.

He dipped his hand inside the waistband of Dean’s pajamas and briefs, and closed his warm hand around Dean’s shaft. It felt like smooth silk stretched tight over steel... he was that hard. “Men often also wake like this... its normal.” He started to stroke and leaned in, so Dean’s face was against his shoulder. “Close your eyes. You can think of... who you’d like to be with, like this. Maybe that dark haired woman ... the cop in last nights movie... or the blonde in that ad?”

Feeling like he was talking too much, Samuel stopped talking. He concentrated on squeezing and moving his hand, using his mental connection to get into tune with Dean’s needs. When his thumb accidentally touched Dean’s crown, the sensations that were mentally transmitted to Sam had him holding his breath. He started to move his hand the way Dean wanted, paying attention to his crown, then slipping all the way down his shaft and applying pressure to it’s under side.

The sound of Dean’s labored breaths, the low groans breaking from the back of his throat had Samuel wound so tight, had him hoping for the next one, and the next... like he was addicted. His pulse started to race, his heart beat hard against his chest. “Good... that’s it... that’s it...” he crooned, encouraging more, needing to hear more, needing to feel Dean thrash harder. Then he caught himself moving back and forth slightly, seeking pressure where there was none, and came back to his senses. Biting his lip to try to prevent himself from feeling anything else, he redoubled his effort... needing to bring off Dean now.

Dean was so afraid, so certain he'd just ruined everything, he was close to having a panic attack like he used to have during his 'hallucinations'.

He was so sure that Samuel would be disappointed, or worse angry at him. That the angel would think he was a freak, just like everyone else did. That Samuel would think he was disgusting and awful, and wouldn't want him here anymore. He was afraid that the Samuel would throw him out on the street, or worse, send him back to the asylum, and maybe he deserved to be there after all if he was like this…

Dean knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better, he could only wait for the ax to fall… But it didn't. Samuel's expression remained as calm and gentle as it always was. He didn't look angry, thank god, or disgusted, he just looked… sad?

Hope began to flicker in the young man's chest when Samuel said he wouldn't send him away. But even the intense relief he felt hearing those words wasn't enough to stop his tears. He was still ashamed, and certain he had disappointed Samuel and that thought was so painful alone it was almost punishment enough.

He wanted to apologize to the angel again, but he couldn't get the words out of his constricting throat. He wanted to swear again that he would never, ever, do that again. It had to be evil and wrong. Anything that Rick had done had to be, and Dean didn't want to be anything like him. He didn't want to go to hell. But more than that, he didn't want to leave Samuel. He didn't want the angel to ever regret taking him in…

All of Dean's thoughts came to an abrupt screeching halt however when he felt the angel's hand move underneath the sheet, his warm fingers brushing over his penis that was still shamefully hard, and the young man's eyes went as wide as saucers. His breath hitching in his chest, his hips instinctively trying to push up against Samuel's palm and Dean knew his face has to be as red as a tomato by now, but he didn't really care because he was still trying to process the angel's words.

It was… everyone? But… why would… It only ever made him feel disgusting and bad… and… When Samuel's fingers curled around his shaft, holding him much more gently than Rick, or even himself, ever had, Dean couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped his lips followed by a whimper as Samuel began to stroke him slowly.

Oh god…

It had never… never felt like this. It felt… felt so good… and again Dean felt ashamed, but then Samuel's voice was whispering in his ear. It was normal… natural… Samuel said, and he wanted to believe that… that he was not bad for liking this… It had always felt bad when Rick touched him like this, but when Samuel did it, it felt so good, he couldn't stop from moaning against the angel's shoulder.

His breathing grew faster as his hips moved instinctively to the rhythm Samuel had set. His heart pounding against his ribs as he thrust up, pushing into the hand wrapped around his aching flesh. Small whimpers changed to deep groans in his throat that he couldn't hold back if he wanted to, and his stomach muscles clenched as his whole body began trembling.

It felt like fire was pulling in his stomach. Burning, aching, but so sweet at the same time. So good. His fingers grasped at the sheets beneath him tightly, needing something to hold onto. He felt like he was coming apart inside, but Samuel was there, holding him, his gentle voice, encouraging, just like he was there when Dean needed him most, and he finally let go. Knowing that Samuel would be there to catch him.

"Samuel!" He moaned the angel's name loudly as his orgasm took him by surprise. His head thrown back, mouth wide, gasping for breath, as his back arched completely off the bed. His seed spilled hotly against his lower stomach, coating Samuel's hand and the front of his pajamas.

Oh God... Samuel didn’t know when he started to mentally echo the sounds Dean was making and his calls on God, or when he started to breath to the same rhythm... or when a fever took him in its grip... or just when he held his breath during the last throes of Dean’s climax.

All he knew was that when his name was torn from Dean’s throat, he felt nothing less than scorching heat rush from his groin throughout his system. There was nothing chaste about the way he was staring at Dean. There was nothing chaste about the way he kept holding Dean's shaft just a few minutes longer than necessary.

And there was nothing chaste about the way he found himself leaning forward, dying to taste Dean’s lips the way he accidentally had when they’d bumped in the tub. Even without touching... just the mere thought had his lips burning.

He pulled back and tried to come to his senses. “I...” Licking his lips, he let out a heated breath. When he pulled his hand out from under the sheet, it was shaking slightly. Meeting Dean’s gaze, for once, the angel didn’t know what to say. Lust wasn’t something he experienced often, and certainly not this strongly.

Dean didn’t know how long he laid there with his eyes closed, his chest heaving as tried to regain control over his breathing, simply unable to think.

Just… just… surprised… that didn’t even begin to cover it. He didn’t think he could form a coherent thought in his head if his life depended on it. It was hard enough to process everything he had felt… everything he was feeling now…

In his body. In his heart…

All he could think about was how warm his skin felt. Hyper sensitive. Tingling. His body still trembling a little from the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through him. The feeling of the sticky cooling mess against his stomach. Samuel’s warm gentle fingers still wrapped around his now softening penis…

The young man finally forced his eyes open when he felt the angel move beside him. Looking up at Samuel with nothing short of wonder, even as he whimpered softly as the angel pulled his hand away from his sensitive flesh. Leaving him feeling a little colder now. Longing…

Dean scooted a little closer to the angel, trying to get some of that warmth back. Pressing himself against Samuel’s body, slipping his arms around the angel’s waist. His eyes never looking away from Samuel’s. Beautiful… so beautiful…

The young man licked his lips softly. Surprised how dry they felt.

“Wow…” He finally whispered, and he was a little surprised he even managed that much. But it seemed to sum everything up pretty well. Moving on instinct, Dean closed his eyes again, leaning forward to press his lips softly to the angel’s.

The brief seconds that Dean stared at him with those fathomless green eyes felt like forever. Sam’s breath hitched in his throat, and as he felt Dean’s arms go around him, instinctively... he knew he should move away. But despite the warning signals, he found he couldn’t tear himself away... just couldn’t.

When Dean’s mouth touched his, he quickly pressed his lips tightly together. Every cell in his body remembered that elusive touch of Dean’s tongue... every cell cried out for another touch, another taste. Determined not to give in his new found lusty thoughts, Sam merely brushed his mouth over Dean’s.

Big mistake. His mouth ached and burned with need. Desire flooded his entire being, shredding his good intentions. Suddenly Sam found himself dragging his closed mouth back and forth over Dean’s, once, twice... and then his hand was behind Dean’s head, holding him in place as he kissed him again. Mental images of their tongues tangling together tortured him, made him hungry for more... for things he couldn’t have.

By the time he broke the kiss, he was flushed and hot all over. Craving more than an open mouthed kiss... much more. "Wow." He gave a wry smile as he tried to regain his composure. Licking his lips, he slowly pushed off the bed and reached for the box of kleenex.

After wiping his hand, he passed the box to Dean. He would have cleaned him, but he was afraid, he didn't trust himself suddenly. He didn't know if he could fight these new sensations right here, right now. "I should make breakfast."

When he felt Samuel’s lips tighten against his briefly, Dean felt a small spike of doubt that he’d done something wrong by kissing the angel. Though he didn’t really understand why since Samuel had kissed him many times. But before that doubt could turn into a real fear, the angel’s lips relaxed and brushed against his own and the young man sighed softly at the warm tingling sensation that flowed through his body as Samuel brushed his lips across his.

Then suddenly the angel’s hand cupped the back of his head, holding him in place, but instead of fear he felt a rush of heat from his lips all the way to his toes, and the tingling sensation turned to an ache. Dean gasped softly, his arms tightening around the angel, when he saw flashes in his mind of he and Samuel kissing. Really kissing, like he’d seen on television, and he wanted it so badly it hurt.

He was already parting his lips, expecting to feel the touch of Samuel’s tongue against his lips, in his mouth, and he just knew it would be nothing like when Rick had forced his mouth open for his tongue. It would be wonderful, just like everything else Samuel had shown him…

But it didn’t happen. The angel drew away, and Dean couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped him as his eyes slid open. Breathing a little heavily he stared up at Samuel with more than a bit of longing, as he watched the angel lick his lips. His own tongue darting out to do the same without thought, and he felt that warm rush again when he tasted Samuel on them.

Yeah… wow…

Dean remained laying where he was. Not sure if he could move even if he wanted to as he watched the angel clean off his hand with a few Kleenex. Taking the box almost hesitantly and nodding when Samuel offered it to him. Smiling softly at the angel even though he felt disappointment when he said he was going to make breakfast.

He simply nodded however, not really knowing what to say. Watching the angel leave his room, and Dean finally pulled out a few Kleenex out of the box to clean up the sticky mess inside his pajamas. Samuel’s pajamas actually… That thought warmed his already flushed cheeks as he slid the wet material down his hips and then wiped off his skin.

Just the light touch of the Kleenex making his skin tingle even more, and Dean ran his fingertips over his softened penis curiously. His eyelids fluttering closed and he had to bite his lip to stifle a soft moan that tried to escape as he touched his oversensitive flesh, imagining his fingers were Samuel’s.

It wasn’t long before he was coming again, in his own fist this time. Samuel’s name a breathy moan on his lips.

The normally unflustered angel was definitely not himself. As he washed his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror. His skin was unusually flushed and his mouth was slightly reddened, but his eyes… dear God, they reflected a hunger he had no business feeling. Lowering his head, he rinsed his face with cold water, wishing he could as easily wash away the sinful desires that coursed through his entire being.

Heading to his room, he didn’t dare glance at the door to Dean’s room. It was too soon. First he had to get his emotions back under control. He changed quickly into casual clothes, then kneeled to say his prayers. He’d never had to pray for the strength to fight lusty thoughts before, not in all the centuries he’d walked the earth.

When he thought he had re-centered himself, he headed for the kitchen and was quickly absorbed in the tasks at hand. Soon he had coffee brewing, bread in the toaster and was frying up eggs and bacon. As he planned out their day, he completely relaxed and started to hum under his breath. “Breakfast is almost ready,” he called out, starting to flip the eggs over. One minute his thoughts were pure and innocent, the next, his mind was invaded by Dean’s passionate mental cry of his name. Overwhelming need swept over Samuel, blinding him. Just as an involuntary groan started to leave his throat, his arm accidentally touched the frying pan.

“Agh…ouch.” Closing and opening his eyes, he shook his hand as if to cool the burn. He swore in eight ancient languages before he caught himself. Oh God, he could see hundreds… maybe thousands of hail Marys in his future, and the day had only just started.

Dean cleaned himself off again quickly, unable to keep the smile off of his flushed face as he did. The second time wasn’t as good as when Samuel had been touching him himself, but it had been almost as good imagining the angel’s hand around him again instead of his own. Imagining kissing Samuel while he was doing it. Really kissing him, while the angel touched him. That had been the best part.

As he stripped off his slightly damp pajamas, throwing them into a hamper, he wondered if… they could do it again. It had felt so good. He wanted… he wanted to touch Samuel like that too. He wondered if the angel would let him? He said it was normal. Natural. That everyone did it.

Maybe he would ask Samuel tonight when they went to bed. Maybe Samuel would let him sleep in his bed this time.

Dean dressed quickly in some of his new clothes. Still feeling a little overwhelmed, not only by what had happened this morning, but just how drastically his life had suddenly changed when he met Samuel. When the angel had come for him. It was… nothing short of a miracle… and Dean didn’t think he’d ever believed in such things before. In god, or miracles, or anything good…

It was hard not to now however as he smiled at himself in the mirror. For perhaps the first time in his life, liking how he looked as he ran his fingers through his hair. His skin still slightly flushed, and still smiling from ear to ear as he followed his nose to the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. His stomach rumbling a little as he walked in, grinning at the angel.

Walking up directly behind Samuel and wrapping his arms tightly around the angel’s waist in a hug.

“Thank you.” He said softly, meaning everything, not just cooking him breakfast, before reaching around Samuel to snag a piece of cooling bacon from the paper towel and popping it into his mouth with a pleased moan, licking his fingers.

Ordinarily, Sam would be completely relaxed when hugged. Today was different, on the heels of everything that had happened, he was far from relaxed. He did enjoy Dean’s touch though, and couldn’t help smiling at the gesture.

Course he quickly lost the smile when Dean leaned in further to reach around him and snag a piece of bacon. The motion had Dean’s hand slipping across Sam’s stomach, causing Sam to instantly tense up and hold his breath. He was going to have to talk to Dean about personal space, though he had to admit, as an angel, he never had much regard for it. It was his role to comfort, and you couldn’t do that without touching.

“You’re welcome.” Samuel found his gaze was locked on Dean’s mouth, as he licked his fingers. No, he refused to allow his mind to wander, to think about what it might feel like to have those defined lips close around…

He blinked a couple of times. “Breakfast… table. Here, take this, “ he gave Dean a plate with the toasts and shooed him out of the kitchen. Taking a breath to gather himself, Sam followed and brought the rest of the food out.

They talked quite a bit about how Sam planned on furthering Dean’s education and also helping him to fit in and learn to socialize at his own pace. “But first, we’re getting you a proper hair cut,” Sam grinned. “And pajamas your size.”

Course talk of pajamas sent his mind directly to the events of the morning, and he could tell Dean was right there with him. Well there was no time like the presence to have a discussion about that. He cleared his throat. “Dean, about masturbating, you know… what you were doing this morning? I’ll get some written materials on sex education for you to look at, or maybe a health education video so you don’t feel so worried and confused. You looked so afraid this morning, you scared me.” Sam took a sip of his coffee, to let that sink in. “I told you it’s a natural urge, and it is. But it’s also something that is… personal. It’s something that’s done… I mean when it’s done, it’s usually in a bathroom or behind closed doors… privately. Maybe with a lover, but not with just anyone… and certainly not outside.”

Sensing the boy might be taking this as criticism, Sam locked gazes with him. “I don’t want to confuse you by telling you it’s natural, and then letting you find out the hard way that even if it’s natural, there are rules about where and when you can do it. I just don’t know how much you know.”

And don’t do it when I’m cooking, dammit. Though the burn had healed, its memory lingered.

Dean laughed softly as he was shooed out of the kitchen. Stuffing a slice of toast into his mouth on the way to the table and sitting down. Samuel came out of the kitchen moments later with the rest of their breakfast and the young man wasted no time piling up his plate with eggs, toast, and more bacon.

The bacon was definitely the best part, he decided, as he licked his fingers clean after shoving another strip into his mouth. Even though everything was wonderful, truthfully, and while Samuel talked to him, Dean spent most of the time nodding as he shoveled eggs into his mouth like he was starving. Making little appreciative noises to Sam’s cooking practically with every bite.

He wasn’t sure how much he liked hearing how Samuel wanted him to start studying math, science, history, reading… Dean hadn’t had any kind of formal schooling since he was twelve, and from what he remembered, all of those things had been boring so he wasn’t really looking forward to taking them up as a ‘hobby’ again. But if Samuel wanted him to learn this stuff, he supposed it was the least he could do, given all the angel had done for him so far.

Though to be honest, when Samuel changed the subject to him learning to ‘socialize’ that made Dean even more uncomfortable. He’d never ‘fit in’ anywhere. Even as a child, everyone had thought he was a freak of nature. Hell, even at the asylum where everyone was crazy, he hadn’t fit in, how messed up was that?

So he figured his trepidation about meeting new people and trying to ‘fit in’ was warranted. Why couldn’t he just spend all his time with Samuel? Dean had never had anyone else before, and he didn’t really want to talk or spend time with anyone else now either.

Though when the angel mentioned he needed to get a ‘proper’ haircut, Dean ran his fingers through his hair a little self consciously. A small smile tugging at his lips and a bit of heat rushing to his cheeks when Samuel mentioned also getting him new pajamas.

I like yours. He almost said, but then Samuel was talking about him masturbating, and how scared he’d looked this morning before the angel had ‘helped’ him, and the young man averted his eyes shyly. Picking at his eggs with his fork as he avoided the angel’s gaze for the moment. A little embarrassed by his reaction now, even though he had been terrified this morning, of course that only made it more embarrassing.

He’d only been scared because he only had his… experiences… with Rick to go by. It had always either hurt, or made him feel disgusting or ashamed before, and he didn’t know it could be… different. He had been afraid of what Samuel would think of him, think he was bad, like the orderly… But he wasn’t afraid of that anymore, since Samuel said it was normal. Dean wanted to apologize to Samuel for scaring him, but he didn’t know how he could without explaining, and the young man really didn’t want to talk about Rick right now. Or ever, if it could be avoided.

Samuel had shown him it could be different. It could be good, and that was enough for him, so he simply nodded a little at the angel’s words. A small smile tugging at his lips as the angel tried to ‘explain’ to him where and when not to do that. Such as not ‘outside’ which the young man had to snicker a little at. There were a lot of things Dean might not know, but at least he knew that much. Still, he nodded again in understanding.

Dean poked at his eggs some more, even though they’d gone a little cold, before looking back up into the angel’s eyes. Catching the stray thought from Samuel and raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“You felt that?” He asked, even as he caught the memory about the burn and the young man’s expression turned to intense guilt then. The idea that Samuel had hurt himself because he… It almost had him on the verge of tears again as Dean whispered, “I’m sorry…”

“Dean,” Sam groaned, kicking himself. “Listen, you’ve had more than enough… more than a lifetime’s worth of guilt and fear, and that’s why you’re feeling this way. To most people, this would be funny. Look.” He mentally visualized what had happened, exaggerating it and showing him the humorous side. Then he visualized other scenes with himself being clumsy, or falling as a result of trick played by Dean, and compared it with some comedic scenes on television.

“I don’t know if you got all that, but what I’m trying to show you is that not every painful event is an extreme, you know? Which… not an invitation to start playing tricks on me,” he grinned, half fearful. There was a very sneaky and playful side to Dean, and Sam knew that while it was buried for now, when it came out… world watch out. And right now, he was Dean’s world… which meant he was in the direct line of danger.

“You know there’s only one person, one entity who is infallible. The rest of us… you, me, everyone else … we make mistakes. You make a mistake, and I’ll tell you,” he nodded. “And I’ll explain to you why something you did is wrong, and then we can discuss it, and that’s pretty much it. You’re not getting thrown out, I won’t hate you… I can’t hate… and I never give up, not ever. This door… my arms… they’re always open to you. If you trust anything, trust in that.”

He picked up a stack of newspapers and started rifling through them. “Righ… end of lecture. Eat your eggs.”

Samuel’s words were enough to give the young man a pause, even though it didn’t erase the guilt from his face immediately it was now mingled with confusion.

Funny? Dean really didn’t find the idea of Samuel burning himself at all funny, but… Ok, the way the angel was showing him it happened, even though he had a feeling it didn’t happen quite that way, had the young man smiling in spite of himself. Though as Samuel continued to feed him images directly into his mind, Dean was left wiping tears from his eyes that definitely weren’t from guilt or fear and giggling.

Ok, maybe it was a little funny…

By the time Samuel was done with his ‘lecture’ Dean was feeling much better, about a lot of things, and he thought he understood what the angel was trying to tell him. Just knowing that Samuel wouldn’t hate him, or think he was bad, or send him away if he made a mistake was a huge weight off of his shoulders.

So Dean did as he was told and started to nibble on his eggs again. Pretty much full by now but they were so good he wanted to finish them anyway. Every once in a while casting a thoughtful look at the angel as he read the newspapers.

Then as Samuel lifted his coffee to his lips, a mischievous smile broke out suddenly on the young man’s face. Just as Samuel was taking a drink he sent the angel one of his favorite mental images he’d come up with while he was touching himself this morning. Him and Samuel both in the bathtub with bubbles, his arms around the angel once more, but this time they were kissing and both of them were naked.

Hunger in Haiti. Samuel knew it wasn’t for him to question, but it bothered him. The article went into detail on how a large portion of the population was reduced to eating ‘mud biscuits.’ He turned to the financials and picked up his coffee. Stocks up a few points, economy stable…

The erotic image that forced its way into his mind packed a powerful punch and had coffee spewing painfully out of the angel’s nostrils. He raised a hand up in a ‘stop’ motion. “Not funny… really not funny… seriously not…” But seeing Dean laughing so hard that tears were coming out of his eyes had Sam involuntarily laughing.

He tried to stop, because this was so wrong… and he’d just given Dean ammunition against him. That alone should scare him sober, but instead, his shoulders were still shaking. He shook his head, trying to explain and not laugh, “Angels… they don’t… that doesn’t happen…” but even as he tried to deny Dean’s imagination, his own was on fire. Mouth to mouth. Tongues tangling… tasting. Their bodies sliding together. Friction building, making him want more... so much more.

He blinked and scrubbed his face with his hand. “Wrong… very very wrong. Dean.” Blowing out a breath, he countered Dean’s images with chaste one’s of his own. Holding, protecting, loving Dean the way he should… as a child of man, as a son. And yet his body was still tingling and he knew the temptation to re-imagine what he’d been shown would test him sorely.

Dean knew he probably shouldn’t have laughed as hard as he did, but he couldn’t help it. Samuel’s reaction had been even better than he’d anticipated, and when he saw the coffee shoot out of the angel’s nose, he couldn’t help howling with laughter.

Clutching his sides and practically falling out of his chair as tears streamed down his cheeks. Hearing Samuel try to ‘scold’ him all the while fighting not to laugh himself only had him laughing even harder, till he could barely breathe.

He didn’t understand what Samuel was trying to tell him. Angel’s didn’t? Well, sure, Dean had never before imagined an angel spewing coffee out of his nose, and maybe it was wrong of Dean to do that, but he couldn’t make himself regret it. Of course, that could have something to do with the fit of giggles he just couldn’t contain.

The new mental images he was picking up from the angel, replacing the one of them kissing as well as Samuel with coffee coming out of his nose, helped sober the young man more than anything else. Leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy inside, and maybe that was girly but it was also true. He smiled at the angel adoringly as he reached for a napkin and handed it to Samuel to wipe off his face.

I love you. He couldn’t help but think as their fingers brushed.

Sam didn’t know if it was just the touch of Dean’s fingers or the mental whisper, but a jolt of electricity went straight to his heart. Somehow he knew he should run, run as far and fast as he could because in his world, ‘trouble’ was spelled ‘Dean.’

Wiping at the coffee, he cleared his throat. “There are many kinds of love.” Hot passionate love, the sort that leaves your breath ragged and twists your insides until you’re dying for the touch of another. Sam blinked at the unbidden thought he was sure Dean heard. “This… ours, is not that kind. It’s the sort your parents should have given you,” he said, this time firm in his conviction as he got up. “Most humans are drawn by angels… I don’t want to confuse you, or hurt you.” No, that was the last thing he wanted for this boy.

“There’s also the fact that I rescued you and I’m probably the first person you’ve kissed.” He shook his head ‘no’ before Dean could interject, “that other one doesn’t count… don’t think of him, that was abuse. What I’m trying to say is that you may think you’re falling for me, but one day soon, you’ll see… there are so many people in the world, so many who can and will make you happy in all the right ways.”

He knew he wasn’t being articulate, but he was trying damn hard to concentrate. And there he went again with the swearing. He inwardly sighed. “It’s hard to explain but say you never had ice cream, okay? And I gave you strawberry flavored ice cream. You’d think you love it, that you love it best. But that’s only because you have tried chocolate yet. It might be chocolate or vanilla or pistachio that you love best, but if you latched onto strawberry and didn’t give the others a try… you’d miss out.”

Collecting the plates, Sam took them to the kitchen. “We’ll leave as soon as I get these washed up.”

Hot passionate love, the sort that leaves your breath ragged and twists your insides until you're dying for the touch of another.

Dean felt his cheeks flush and heat fill his stomach when he picked up on those words whispered into his mind. Well, maybe Samuel hadn't intended for him to hear it, but he did, and he couldn't get the words out of his head now or the images and feelings they produced inside of him.

But as Samuel went on to 'explain' that this wasn't the kind of love they had… Or would have… by the sound of what the angel was saying, Dean's smile faded, and his expression grew shadowed. He knew the angel wasn't trying to be hurtful or condescending, but that's still what it felt like to Dean.

He wasn't stupid. Maybe he didn't know a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew the difference between gratefulness and love. Yes, he was grateful to Samuel for saving him, from Rick, from Hell itself. Taking him away from the asylum. Giving him a place to live. He was grateful for all of that, more than the angel might ever know.

But why couldn't he be grateful to Samuel and love him too?

Dean turned his face away from the angel, staring at his plate intently as his face warmed for a different reason when Samuel mentioned Rick. Telling him not to think of him, even as the angel spoke about him, and how was Dean not supposed to think about him then?

The man had done much more than 'kiss' him, since he was twelve years old. But Samuel kissing him, touching him, holding him, was the first time Dean had ever liked it. The angel's arms around him made him feel safe when the other man's arms had only ever made him feel afraid. Maybe he and Samuel had been the only ones to ever touch him like that, but they weren't the only two people he'd ever known in his life, and he'd never felt for anyone like he felt for Samuel.

Why would he want to go out and meet 'other' people to make him 'happy' when he was happy with Samuel right now? Why did he need to go looking for something else when everything he'd ever wanted was right here?

No. Samuel was wrong. About this he was wrong. Samuel was everything he'd ever waited for his whole life, and he wasn't going to let anyone not even the angel himself try to convince him otherwise.

Dean lifted his eyes only when Samuel took his plate, his face set in a stubborn, almost angry look as he watched the angel go into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. Effectively dismissing him, his feelings, and the young man felt another sharp stab of hurt as he stood up abruptly.

Maybe I like strawberries. He thought stubbornly before he abruptly slammed the door on their mental link, locking his mind and emotions away behind a wall he somehow knew Samuel couldn't get around no matter how hard he might try.

Dean stormed off into the living room then. Throwing himself down onto the couch and turning on the television loud trying to drown out the hurt Samuel's rejection caused him.

It was like a door slammed, leaving Sam out in the cold. He tested their mental connection and found it was sealed. Already he missed the constant awareness of Dean that the link allowed. It was hard to explain what it felt like to be linked like that, and having never been one to feel loneliness, he wasn’t sure… but he thought what he felt now was comparable.

Fighting the instinct to go inside and comfort Dean, he went about washing the dishes and putting things away. A little hurt and anger now would be much better than bitter disappointment and much greater hurt if he let the young man dream of things that would never be. Only for a minute or two, he allowed himself the luxury of wondering how he’d feel, what he’d do if the rules did not stand in his way. He saw himself with another man at his side… Dean. If he weren’t centuries old, he too might have pouted.

Wiping his hands with a towel, he walked into the living room. The look on Dean’s face was all ‘rebellious teenager,’ though he was in his early twenties. Sam didn’t dare laugh, though he wanted to. “Time to go.”

He didn’t miss the fact that Dean didn’t look at him. “Come child,” he opened the door, and when he looked at Dean, the heat in that glare was almost palpable. He tried not to laugh, really he did… and it was only a closed mouthed laugh, which Dean could have missed.

A few minutes later, they were down at street level. Sam lead the way and allowed Dean to speed up or slow down at will, while he took in the sights and sounds. At least his anger didn’t seem to last and they were on talking terms again. They walked a long distance and even took the cable car up to the wharf. As far as Sam was concerned, he could do this forever… watch the expressions flit across Dean’s face, see him open mouthed with wonder, and then suddenly deliberately change his demeanor as if emulating some of the confident or cocky men walking around. He was trying to find out who Dean Winchester was, and in the process, was trying on some of the personas they came across.

“Just a minute,” he said, touching Dean’s back for him to stop at a sandwich shop. Sam went in and ordered both food and a drink, then came out and continued walking. When they reached the corner, he bent down and gave the food to an old homeless man sitting on the ground with a change can.

“Thanks Sam.”

“”Welcome. It’s gonna rain tonight, get some shelter.”

“Okay.”

“So… let’s cross the street and get you that haircut.” It was a quiet street, with no traffic. He could see Dean was eyeing the Walk/Don’t walk sign as they waited for it to go green. “Eh… stupid rule,” once again putting his hand behind Dean’s back, he rushed him across the street.

They walked inside the very modern looking salon, and Sam introduced Dean to one of the stylists. The stylist had Dean sit down as she rattled off some options, including lighting his hair.

Thinking Dean’s dark blond hair brought out those incredible eyes, Sam had a guttural reaction to the suggestion. No, no color, it’s perfect.

When Samuel came into the living room and told him it was time to go Dean purposefully ignored him. He was still angry, and hurt, and he didn’t want to talk to the angel right now. He almost wished he’d gone into his own room instead and shut the door, sure that the angel would have just left him alone then.

But there wasn’t anything really to do in there. At least with the television he could pretend he wasn’t thinking about the conversation they’d just had. To pretend he wasn’t already missing the connection between himself and Samuel. Pretending he didn’t feel the cold lonely feeling that was filling his heart without it.

He’d been alone most of his life. Though he’d grown almost used to that feeling over the years, feeling it now after having a taste of something else was agonizing. But the young man was too stubborn to just reopen the connection, or better yet, throw himself into Samuel’s arms and just beg the angel to hold him always.

But Samuel didn’t want him to do that. The angel had made it clear enough. Another wave of sadness and loneliness had him slouching deeper into the cushions of the couch, though he covered it up with anger. Outright glaring at the angel when Samuel called him a ‘child’.

He wasn’t a child, god damn it! He wasn’t a baby, a kid, or even a teenager. He was grown up, and if he needed to show Samuel that he was grown up before the angel would take his feeling seriously…

Dean shut off the television and stood up with a huff. A new determination filling him as he followed the angel outside. He’d prove to Samuel he wasn’t a child. He’d learn everything the angel wanted to teach him, and then some. He’d show Samuel his feelings were real, and they weren’t going to change, damn it.

All he wanted was Samuel. He was all he would ever want.

So as they walked down the street Dean kept his eyes and ears open trying to absorb everything he saw and heard like a sponge. Trying to remember the names of places, streets, where they were going and where they’d been. He watched the people, since Samuel seemed to think it was so important that he fit in, he’d better start paying attention to how ‘normal’ people reacted to things.

It was fascinating, but he was still a bit nervous though, being outside like this in such a busy place, and gradually as they walked, Dean allowed the wall around his mind come down a little. Letting him feel the angel’s thoughts and feelings again, and he tried not to sigh in relief how much it comforted him. Even more than standing close to, or Samuel’s hand on his back did.

When the stopped at the small sandwich shop Dean watched the angel curiously for a moment, because they’d just eaten, but the young man smiled in understanding when Samuel gave the food to a guy on the street corner a little ways.

When the homeless man called the angel by name, Sam, Dean couldn’t help but wonder how many people Samuel had helped. Saved. Like him? Was that man one of them? Would he be? Was Sam helping him keeping him from doing the same for others? Was Dean being… selfish… to want Samuel to love him? Did Sam already… love someone else? Was that why he wasn’t taking him seriously? That thought didn’t sit well with the young man at all.

But it was difficult to hold onto depressing thoughts like that when Samuel was rushing him across the road against the ‘advice’ of the walk sign and Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little. Smiling at the angel and standing close to him to encourage more of similar touches.

Finally they arrived at the salon so he could get a the haircut Sam insisted he needed, and Dean was feeling nervous once more. This was another thing he hated, because it was never very pleasant. Getting his hair cut. He knew it would probably be nothing like when the nurses did it at the asylum, but that didn’t stop the young man from instinctively standing closer to the angel when the stylist greeted them.

When he was finally sitting in the chair, he couldn’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed as the woman quickly went over several options for getting his hair cut in different ways. Hearing the sound Samuel made, and picking up on the angel’s thought, when the woman suggested he color it had Dean grinning a little however. Casting a brief knowing glance at the angel before Dean shook his head at the stylist’s suggestion and continued looking through the book in his lap.

Finally he pointed to a picture in the book.

“Do you think this will look good?” He asked the woman. It was short. Simple, and looked fairly easy to keep up. But more important than that, it wouldn’t make him look like a kid.

“I think it will look fabulous.” She looked up at Sam.

“His hair, his choice.” His gaze shifted to Dean. “Good choice.”

After Dean came back from having his hair washed, their eyes met in the mirror. Sensing Dean’s slight agitation, Sam pulled a chair close and sat. When the stylist gave him a stern look, he merely smiled at her and headed off any criticism.

As her scissors snipped around Dean’s head, Sam spoke with him. You’re doing great. She’s very good. Lord help the world once you’re done, handsome. He smiled, knowing how much Dean liked getting compliments.

Soon, she was brushing stray hairs off Dean’s neck, and all three of them were admiring the cut. As Sam paid, he couldn’t take his eyes off Dean, and he wasn’t hiding it. When they walked out, he was still looking. Lead us not into temptation…

They spent the next couple of hours shopping and had way too many bags in hand. They dropped them off at the apartment, and then headed out again, this time to a small café for lunch. Sam ordered a soup and half sandwich and started to pull out some papers and a pen. Other diners were working on lap tops or reading. He loved this place, and thought it would be a nice relaxed atmosphere for Dean to take the tests that would show what his reading and writing skills were.

Once Dean ordered, he pushed the test papers in front of him. “Just some questions to answer, so we can see where you are and where you need help. Don’t look so worried, there’s no right or wrong. And after you’re done… we’ll go to Coldstone Ice-creamery. You’ll love it.”

Dean had to admit, he liked his haircut. But more than that, he liked the way Samuel looked at him afterwards. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him again and again and the young man pretended not to notice so Sam wouldn’t stop. But under the angel’s obvious admiring gaze he walked a little straighter. Held his head a little higher.

Then they went shopping.

They bought a lot of clothes. More clothes than Dean thought he could wear in his lifetime. He tried on all kinds of shirts and pants. Always watching Sam’s reaction carefully, and if the angel got ‘that’ look, as the younger man had begun to dub it, Dean would ask if they could buy it.

They didn’t just get him shirts and jeans this time though. They got him underwear, which Samuel wouldn’t let Dean model for him. They got him socks. A couple different pairs of shoes. One pair of boots, which was actually the young man’s favorite of them. They bought him bathroom stuff like shampoo, soap, a shaving kit, toothbrush.

They’d even stopped at a small grocery and Sam let him pick out some foods he liked. He’d always liked macaroni and cheese, it was probably the one thing he did like to eat at the asylum so he got several boxes of that. A few bags of chips. A jar of peanut butter and Samuel insisted on bread to go with it. Some soda, and a few other things Dean was willing to try. When they passed by the produce section, Dean grabbed a box of strawberries and threw them in the cart without a word.

After that they returned home briefly, put away the groceries that needed to be refrigerated, and then went out for lunch. Dean ordered a cheeseburger with all the toppings. Giving the angel a thoughtful look when Samuel pushed some papers and a pencil in front of him.

He suddenly wasn’t very hungry anymore when Sam explained they were tests, and Dean couldn’t help feeling nervous even though the angel told him not to be. After all, what if he took them and Sam decided he was stupid? He knew the angel wouldn’t throw him out on the street, but it would just be a sort of confirmation that Dean didn’t know anything, especially not his own feelings.

As Dean had suspected/feared most of the questions could have been in Greek for all he knew. The waitress brought him his cheeseburger, but the end of the pencil ended up having more teeth marks on it where he nervously bit it whenever he came to a difficult question, which was most of them.

He’s going to think I’m stupid… The thought helplessly slipped out before he could stop it.

Sam quietly ate and looked out the window. His kitchen cabinets were now stuffed with ‘junk food.’ Junk food! Maybe if he mixed some broccoli in with that macaroni and cheese, he could give it some nutritional value. If he’d let Dean have his way completely, they’d have carried home crates of chips and crackers and some items Sam had the good fortune never to have laid eyes on before. But the strawberries... no, not the fruit, but that fiery rebellious look that sparked from Dean’s eyes when he’d picked them up and silently tossed them into the cart... Sam wouldn’t forget it, nor could he miss the meaning behind the gesture.

Waves of agitation from Dean washed over him. Just as he turned to reassure Dean, he heard his thoughts... his fears.

No. He thinks you’re dangerously smart and clever. That you’re resourceful, and that it’s amazing how much you’ve picked up, how articulate you are, how much you know when no one bothered to formally teach you. He thinks it’s a miracle that your spirit isn’t crushed. Putting his hand on the test paper, Sam pulled it from Dean and crushed it into a ball. Stupid test.

Leaning close to Dean’s ear, he whispered. “I think for you, practical learning is the way to go. Now eat your food.” Without thinking, he reached out and used his thumb to wipe at a bit of ketchup on the corner of Dean’s mouth. When Dean’s tongue immediately cleaned the same spot, Sam swallowed hard and dragged his gaze away, fighting the temptation to follow the path of Dean’s tongue with his own.

Dean lifted his eyes to the angel, his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment that Samuel had indeed picked up on his thoughts as the young man had feared. But he was even more surprised by what he ‘heard’ in return.

Smart… clever… resourceful… At first he almost thought that Samuel was teasing him somehow, because Dean didn’t think he was any of those things. Not in the least, but he could see in the angel’s eyes he was completely serious, and the young man had no idea how to take these kinds of high compliments.

It was kind of like when Sam had called him ‘brave’, even though Dean couldn’t sleep alone without nightmares. Dean knew he wasn’t stupid but he knew he wasn’t smart or clever either. Why the angel thought those things… Dean didn’t know, and he couldn’t help being worried again that he would disappoint Samuel in the end when he proved not to be those things.

Sam surprised him again by reaching over and taking the test papers away from him and crumpling them up without even looking at them. Dean couldn’t help quirk an eyebrow and grin a little at the angel’s mutter, stupid test. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain about not having to take it.

Dean found himself holding his breath however when Samuel leaned close to him, his breath warm as the angel whispered into his ear, and the young man shivered a little. Which was a strange reaction he thought since he wasn’t cold, and he definitely wasn’t scared or anything of the sort. In fact he was quite warm, especially looking into the angel’s eyes when Sam wiped at the corner of his mouth gently with his thumb.

When his tongue darted out to lick the same spot, he saw that look flash in the angel’s eyes again before Samuel looked away, and Dean smiled. Filing away the angel’s reaction, feeling like he’d won some kind of small victory.

Picking up his burger, he took a large bite from it. Now that he wasn’t so stressed about taking those tests, actually enjoying it and making little appreciative sounds as he ate. Using his tongue most of the time to lick his lips or fingers clean rather than his napkin. His eyes flickering up to Samuel every once in a while, a little knowing smile pulling at his lips every time he caught the angel watching him.

Every time Dean's tongue appeared, it was sheer torture. Heat coiled low in Sam's belly, his breath caught as he waited or the next time, and the next. And when he sucked the pad of his thumb, Sam knew he should look away.

Though shalt purge yourself of lustful thoughts and feelings. Sam did his best to obey the edict, but Dean made it so hard. Tested him sorely.

Later that afternoon, they headed for the park. On the way, Sam had them cut through a toy store known to have vintage toys. He could sense Dean's resistance... knew that he was thinking he was being treated like a child. Sam shook his head. "Everyone misses things from their past. We'll stay as long as you want. At least it's easy for you, any idea how hard it is to find the toys I used to play with?" He raised an eyebrow. "Try impossible."

Less than an hour later, they were sitting at a table in the park, overlooking the ocean. Sam had bought a pair of dice, and was teaching Dean to gamble. Well, at least that's what it looked like to those watching. In reality, he was awakening Dean's competitive nature, and teaching him how to count his dollars and cents. For good measure, he cheated on the amount that Dean won this round, and looked innocently into his green eyes.

After they left the restaurant they walked around some more and Dean found himself getting a little tired. After all, this was a lot more activity than he was used to at the asylum. Most of the time he just sat around and watched television, and he’d only gotten out of the hospital… yesterday? God, had it only been one day? It was almost hard to believe…

He hadn’t wanted to go into the toy store, despite Sam’s words, he didn’t want any real reminders of his past. But he let the angel lead him inside anyway. He purposefully didn’t look at any of the toys that reminded him of the ones he used to own as a kid. Though the old classic car models caught his attention for a long time.

Dean didn’t ask Samuel if they could buy anything from there however, since he was trying to prove to the angel that he wasn’t a kid and he didn’t think buying toys was the way to do that. He was a little surprised when Sam bought some dice, however, from the store.

He learned the reason why after they stopped in the park and Samuel began teaching him a few dice games, which the young man took to like a fish to water. The angel winning most of the time at first, but Dean was quickly catching up to him. Though they were only gambling with a few loose bits of dollars and change, the young man was very proud of his slowly growing pile.

“Hey!” Dean protested immediately when the angel tried to cheat him on his winnings, snatching two quarters out of Samuel’s pile with a playful glare. Though the effect was a bit ruined when the young man yawned behind his hand a second later.

"Hey, yourself," Sam laughed and gave over Dean's winnings. "Let's go home." Gathering his money and the dice, he put his hand behind Dean's back and started for home. "You know, if you're real tired, I can fly you."

The look he got, coupled with the feelings he sensed from Dean had him laughing again, and squeezing Dean's shoulder. "I take it pilot is out as a possible occupation for you down the road."

As they walked, he told Dean about the concept of 'odds.' While they'd played, he'd picked up on the fact that Dean was innately playing the odds. Telling him the theory behind it in as simple terms as he could, he let that sink in. "Alright, I think we'll do the ice cream store tomorrow. Don't pout," he tried to head Dean off at the pass.

They stopped at the restaurant near his place and ordered dessert, and then headed on inside. Somehow, Sam was able to talk Dean out of macaroni and cheese for dinner, and instead made them a healthy light meal. He had the sneaking suspicion that all of his explanations about nutrition were falling on deaf ears, but that didn't stop him.

After dinner, they sat in the living room. Sam had a book in hand. If Dean's movie selections of the night before was anything to go by, he'd need it. "If you want another bath, you can run the water. Or if you want me to show you how to work the shower..." Feeling the heat behind Dean's gaze, he quickly looked away. Many humans looked at him just like that, but he usually only saw the heat... didn't feel it in his heart and gut. It was unnerving.

As much as Dean liked it when Samuel touched or held him, when the angel suggested that they fly back home if he was tired, the young man’s expression changed to one of near horror that was only half joking.

Pilot? No thanks. He shook his head quickly at the suggestion, shuddering a little at the mere thought, but the angel’s arm around his shoulders had him grinning again in seconds. Walking as close to Samuel as he could in order to encourage the touch to linger.

Dean only pouted a little when the angel suggested that they get ice cream tomorrow. After all, he was tired, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud. He somehow wasn’t surprised when they stopped at the restaurant outside of the apartment to order dessert again.

Samuel cooked them dinner, Dean only grudgingly agreeing to something other than the macaroni and cheese that was sitting in the cabinets. The food was good, just like everything the angel had cooked for him so far, though Dean pointed out cheekily that macaroni would have been better.

Now Dean was lounging sprawled out on the couch, pleasantly full and pleasantly tired, with the remote in his hand flipping through channels for something to keep him occupied till bedtime. When Samuel suggested he could take a bath if he wanted, of course that only reminded Dean of last night… and this morning…

He could tell just from the way that Samuel averted his eyes, though not before Dean caught ‘that’ look again, the angel was thinking about the same thing. The young man grinned.

“I’ll take a bath.” He told the angel, still smiling, as he pushed himself up from the couch and walked to his room. Quickly grabbing the new pair of pajama bottoms that Samuel had bought for him today. Though leaving the top in his room. Before making his way into the bathroom. Leaving the door wide open this time as he started the water and stripped down. Getting in with a sigh of pleasure once the tub was filled.

Dean took his time in the bath this time, without the bubble mishap from last night. He washed himself using the new soap and shampoo Samuel had bought for him. He even played around with the controls for the jets, this time on purpose, and relaxed in the bubbling water with a sigh of near bliss.

His mind just as open as the door to the bathroom, Dean lazily began to touch himself like Samuel had shown him. Not feeling the least bit guilty because, after all, the angel wasn’t cooking this time, he thought with a small grin. Stroking his flesh slowly to hardness Dean moaned softly. Once more imagining Samuel’s hand touching him instead of his own, but he also imagined he was touching the angel the same way.

Reducing the volume and changing to the history channel, Sam put his legs up on the sofa and lay back with a couple of pillows under his head. Bathroom door wide open... figured. His boy Dean had no inhibitions, it seemed.

He read, and occasionally glanced at the t.v., sometimes smiling at the sound of water splashing and bubbling. What had scared Dean just the night before seemed to now be a favorite. He couldn't help but wonder what other new things he'd take to.

The warm, happy mental brushes of Dean's mind relaxed him... lulled him. He certainly wasn't expecting the sudden assault of intensely erotic images. As if hard wired to Dean, he felt the youth's sexual excitement... felt and heard him groan inside his mind. Before he could recover, he saw himself... in Dean's hand... felt Dean's hand squeezing his shaft. Oh God... oh God.... he broke out in a sweat, trying to fight the needs threatening to overwhelm him. His stomach clenched, his head pressed back into the pillow... holy... no... Unbidden, he found himself mentally responding by transmitting images of his mouth on Dean's... opening... opening for him. After all those hours of being teased by Dean's tongue flicking out, or the way he sucked on everything from his thumb, to the spoon to...

As he felt their tongues slide together, he jerked up to a sitting position. Stop. Dean, close your mind... please. He was trying desperately to slam his mind shut, but what had come easily to Dean didn't seem to be working as well for him. Please... Angel's don't ...

Dean had, in no way, been expecting… what had happened. His hand stilling mid stroke on his flesh and his eyes opening wide with a gasp as images and feelings that weren’t his own came pouring over the mental link between himself and the angel.

Excitement. Desire. Need.

The feelings mixed with his own rather innocent desires, until he couldn’t really tell where Sam’s pleasure began and his ended, or vice versa. Making it all the more potent, overwhelming even, and he couldn’t stop the desperate sound that escaped his throat as his hand began moving again almost against his will.

His body suddenly feeling like every nerve ending was on fire. He swore he could feel, really feel, Sam’s mouth on him. Kissing him. Their tongues touching and Dean whimpered helplessly as he stroked himself harder, faster. Responding in the same way. Sending back his pleasure from the mental touch as well as what he was doing to himself.

God… it felt like Samuel was really in here with him. Touching him, kissing him, and it felt so good…

At least, until he heard the angel’s desperate mental plea. For him to… stop… please, stop… Samuel sounding almost… frightened. He felt the angel trying to pull away mentally, struggling but Dean was… too strong… Just like Dean himself used to struggle against Rick, in the beginning, begging the man not to do what he was going to do, what he was doing… his pleas falling on deaf ears as the man hurt him over and over.

Dean slammed the door on his mind so fast he felt intense pain shoot through his brain from the mental backlash. Leaving him reeling, and he almost didn’t hear the actual slamming of the bathroom door so hard the wood splintered a little. The door shutting and locking itself as the young man curled up into a ball in the bathtub, trembling like he was having a seizure. His arms wrapped around his knees, and sobbing uncontrollably.

Oh god, what had he done… what had he…

Self revulsion and panic slammed into Sam right before their connection was broken by Dean and he fell back and took a breath. He only realized the sound he'd heard was the physical slamming of the bathroom door after he scrambled from the sofa and tried to open it. It was locked.

"Dean. Dean!" he knocked. "Open this door, it's not what you think. Please open it." He tried to find their mental connection, tried to see what Dean was going through, but he was closed to him. "Dean!" Knocking one more time, he gave a warning. "I'm coming in."

The angel concentrated, and the door simply opened, allowing a gust of wind to enter behind him.

"Dean, no... no..." He felt his heart shred at the sight of Dean looking just the way had when he was being assaulted by Rick. "It's not like that, not at all." He put his hand out but for once, there was no response. Instead Dean just fell apart in front of his eyes.

Without thought, Samuel just stepped into the bathtub with his socks and clothes still on. He made some room next to Dean and pulled him into his arms. He could hear the chatter of Dean's teeth, he was shaking that badly. "Let me in again... Dean let me in," he pleaded.

Still no response. Sam had only wanted to protect himself from his own thoughts, he'd never wanted to break Dean. "It's not like that, not like Rick at all. Dean, I swear to you... I wasn't afraid, not of you. Of me." Lowering his head, he slanted his mouth over Dean's, tasting tears, and hurt, and an ache so deep he wondered if he could even heal it. I'm sorry, so sorry... please let me in.

The water was still warm, but all Dean felt was cold. Not from the outside, but inside. He wished the cold would have numbed him, but it didn't. It was intense, painful, freezing cold like his heart was pumping shards of ice through his veins instead of blood. Slicing up everything inside of him.

His stomach twisted, and twisted, and twisted. Like there was an actual hand reaching inside of his gut and squeezing and wrenching everything around. He felt sick. So sick. Worse than the first time Rick had ever come to his room.

The man had been sent there because the new medication the doctors had put him on made him vomit. After the man had… finished with him… and cleaned up the mess, Dean had all but crawled to the bathroom and been sick again. Again and again. Until he couldn't even throw up stomach acid anymore and all that was left was painful dry heaves. Crying helpless tears that never seemed to stop.

He wanted to be sick now. He doubted it would make him feel any better, but maybe it would purge some of the… evil… inside of him. Only nothing inside of him seemed to be working right. No matter how much his stomach clenched, no matter how nauseous or disgusting he felt inside, all he felt was increasing pain with no relief. Like the evil didn't want to leave him. Digging itself deeper inside of him.

He was evil. He had to be. For doing what he had to Samuel… after all the angel had done for him, he… Oh god… Dean could only squeeze his eyes shut and cry harder.

Though he heard Samuel's voice calling to him from the other side of the door, it sounded as though it were coming from very far away. Like he was hearing the angel from the other side of a long dark tunnel, or underwater. He simply drew in on himself further, shutting his mind away more.

It was like trying to hide in a dark corner where Samuel wouldn't be able to find him. Where he couldn't… hurt the angel anymore. He'd gone to this place sometimes. Hiding from Rick there while the man hurt him. Sometimes it made it easier, but it was hard to crawl out of the place once he hid. Very hard. Sometimes he got lost for days.

Trying to hide from himself was a lot harder…

The sudden warmth of arms surrounding him shocked him more than a little. Dean knew it was Samuel. Who else could it be? He had no strength at all to resist when the angel pulled him against his chest, and it only made him cry harder if it was possible.

How could the angel still touch him… How could Samuel even look at him after what he'd done. This was way beyond a 'mistake'. This was…

Let me in…

No… No! He wouldn't hurt Samuel like that again! He wouldn't!

It's not like that…

What else could it possibly be like?

I wasn't afraid…

But he had been. He had felt it...

Not of you. Of me.

He didn't understand… He didn't…

Dean felt the angel's soft warm lips brush his own and it almost made his heart stutter to a halt. It was so similar, and yet, different from what he felt before. He didn't understand why Samuel was doing this… he didn't understand… how could he if… The young man couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips as he felt the mental brushings of the angel's mind trying to reach him from behind the wall he had thrown up around him. Trying to reach him in the dark. In the cold. And he simply wasn't strong enough to resist their gentle plea.

The walls around his mind came crumbling down even as he crumbled against the angel's chest, clinging to Samuel desperately.

I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… It was the only, mostly, coherent thought that repeated over and over in his head. Everything else overshadowed by the crushing weight of guilt, disgust, shame… and hate, all directed at himself.

As the barriers between their minds came down, Sam slipped inside. The maelstrom of emotions he found inside this man with whom he had a strange but wonderful connection pained him at soul level. The guilt and shame all but drowned Sam, who tried to swim through the dark waves of emotion to find Dean, to pull him out of it and into the sunshine, where he belonged.

Don’t be sorry... don’t Dean. Nothing to be sorry about, I swear to you. He held him tighter, his hand slipping down Dean’s bare back to pull him practically into his lap. Water splashed out of the tub, bones cracked against it and Sam wasn’t sure if it was him or Dean.

Resting his chin of Dean’s head, he closed his eyes. You’re nothing like him. Nothing. If you believe any one thing I tell you, that’s the one you should believe. The doubts were still there, swimming like sharks. Sam was desperate to reach him, to save him from the demons within.

Look... look, this is your aura... this is how I see you. Samuel let Dean literally feel the warmth coming from the sky blue swath that emanated around Dean, pulsing and flexing, growing hotter, and cooling slightly, but always pleasurable. Don’t be afraid, I’m going to show you Rick’s. He allowed Dean to see the red laced black, cold as ice aura for just a fraction of a second. This is me. This time, he showed him his own white aura, tinged with gold. And this is me when I think of you. His aura blazed so hot, it took his own breath away. A part of him had known, but looking and seeing was different.

Come back to me. I’m not afraid of you. I was never afraid of you. “Dean?” he said out loud, pulling away and demanding he look up at him. “Please forgive me for scaring you.”

Sam’s thoughts wrapped around his like a warm blanket against the bitter cold inside of him. A shield against every hurt Dean had ever felt in his life, and the young man couldn’t stop the small whimper of relief that escaped his throat when the angel pulled him into his lap. Holding him physically just as tightly, just as protectively, and the young man’s fingers clung to the angel’s wet shirt so tight his knuckles turned white. As though fearing if he didn’t hold onto Samuel tight enough the angel would be torn out of his arms, leaving him cold and alone once more.

He wanted to believe so badly what Samuel said. That he wasn’t anything like Rick. Dean didn’t want to be anything like that man… But he just couldn’t forget the desperate fear he had heard in the angel’s voce as Samuel had begged him to stop. The way Sam had struggled to close the connection between them…

He had hurt Samuel. Somehow, he knew he must have hurt him, and until Sam began trying to struggle he hadn’t even realized it, didn’t that make him just as bad as Rick? Dean simply couldn’t bear that thought… of hurting Samuel. It was actually the second time he had hurt the angel, though the first time had been truly unintentional…

No, he wouldn’t hurt Samuel anymore. He wouldn’t.

Dean started to pull away again. Started to push the barriers back up between them, no matter how much it hurt. No matter how cold he was, and how warm Samuel felt, he refused to hurt him again.

Before he could completely close off the connection again, however he felt something different coming from the angel. What he saw… he didn’t understand… auras? That… that was him? When the angel showed him Rick, Dean gasped sharply and recoiled a little in spite of the angel’s warning but it was gone less than a second later, replaced by Samuel’s own and Dean’s mouth fell open in wonder at what he was seeing. It was… perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Dean found himself reaching out to it instinctively. Wanting to touch… to be a part of that warmth. That light. Wanting to wrap himself around it. Twining them together like two different strands of thread until it became a single strand. To feel Sam all around him, inside of him. To be a part of Samuel in the same way…

When the angel drew away, Dean looked up at Samuel’s urging. Still more than a little overwhelmed by… everything… but he wasn’t crying anymore, and he was too relieved to even care about embarrassment. Sniffling softly and nodding even though he didn’t think Samuel had done anything that Dean needed to forgive.

“I… thought I hurt you… like he…” Dean tried to explain, even though he had a feeling he didn’t need to.

“No, it didn’t hurt… didn’t hurt, Dean,” Sam answered, shaking his head. “It was… unbelievable. Feel my heart,” he brought Dean’s hand over his chest. “Still running fast, because I liked it… not because I was hurting.”

He saw the questions in Dean’s intelligent eyes, and knew he wasn’t doing a good job of explaining himself. “I was startled by my own feelings. No one’s ever touched me like we were seeing,” he swallowed, recalling how intense his response had been. “I’m an angel, I’m supposed to help people, calm them… give them what they need. But I was taking pleasure, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to taste you, to feel you… I wanted,” he bit his lip and gave a wry smile. “Things that I shouldn’t want. Rules,” he gave a shrug, accepting them though regret emanated from him.

He stroked the side of Dean’s face. “You can imagine me all you like, there’s nothing… nothing wrong with it. One day I’ll be replaced by another’s image, I know that. Until then, I’m honored, really I am.” It was going to be sheer torture, he knew it… he just knew it as the words left his mouth. “And I’ll just have to learn to close our connection if I find myself enjoying it too much.”

He looked down. “Now about this get Samuel wet in the tub every night thing… maybe baths aren’t your thing.” Raising his eyebrows, he added. “Might try the shower tomorrow, hmm?”

Dean looked down at his hand, pressed against the angel’s chest, feeling Sam’s rapid heartbeat underneath his palm and he let out a shaky breath. All but slumping in relief against the angel’s body as the cold panic he’d felt slowly bled out of him, leaving only the warmth of Sam’s body against his own.

Though there was still confusion written in his eyes when he looked back up into the angel’s eyes. He still didn’t really understand. If he hadn’t hurt Samuel, why had the angel been afraid? If he had liked it…

Samuel explained, or tried to, at least. No one had ever? Not even… himself? But the way Samuel had touched him this morning… The angel had said it was normal. That everyone did it…

Dean’s cheeks warmed, his breath hitching a little, when Samuel admitted that he had wanted to taste him. Touch him… God… He wanted that too. He had liked it so much when Samuel had touched him this morning. It had felt so good… so very good… he wanted… more. More like he was imagining before. More, like when he had felt the mental brush of Samuel’s lips kissing him.

The young man frowned a little when Sam said something about rules. What rules? He almost asked but the question died unspoken when the angel stroked his cheek and only a soft sigh left his lips instead as he leaned into the touch. His eyes locked with the angel’s longingly.

No. Never. There would never be another Dean would ever want to imagine, but the young man kept that thought to himself. He didn’t want Samuel to lecture him again like he had this morning. That they would never have that kind of love…

But… if he wanted it, and Samuel wanted it… why not? Because Samuel still thought of him like a child. That was the only explanation Dean could come up with, so… he would just have to wait and prove to the angel otherwise.

A real smile pulled at Dean’s lips when Samuel ‘complained’ about him getting him all wet again, and the young man found his eyes drifting down in spite of himself. They were practically plastered together. Dean naked, Samuel’s clothes soaked and clinging to his body in ways that left very little to the imagination and when the young man met the angel’s eyes again the heat in his cheeks was not from embarrassment.

In his mind he’d started to mentally strip Samuel out of his wet clothing, before he realized what he was doing and locked that thought away with a sheepish look.

“Sorry…”

Sam laughed, and hugged him for a second, kissing his cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, I’d better get out of here and let you take your bath.”

He hadn’t realized how locked together they were until he had to virtually engage in acrobatics to separate himself from Dean, and then stand. Water dripped from his soaked clothes down into the tub. “Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?” he sighed.

Stepping out of the tub or walking all the way to his room like this was out of the question, unless he wanted to leave a stream of water in his wake. That meant he had to undress, which made him just a little uneasy after what had just happened. In other circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

He locked gazes with Dean for a moment. “You probably should turn around or… you know, get out and dried.” Right, in his dreams. That was the message he was getting from those rebellious eyes. “You’re imp…” unable to complete the thought, Sam simply laughed and pulled his shirt over his head. Squeezing the water out of it, he tossed it into the sink. Bending over, he got his socks off and tossed them as well, then straightened.

“Hmm.” It was all he could say seeing the curious look in Dean’s greens. He probably should order Dean to just leave, but he couldn’t crush his spirit for the second time in one night. Turning slightly so all Dean had was a side view at most, he popped the button of his jeans and worked the zipper, which was more difficult now that the material was wet. Pushing it down his legs was a task too, it clung to his wet skin. By the time he had it off, his heart was pounding just with the knowledge that Dean was still watching him. He could feel the weight of his gaze, but couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

He started for the waistband of his boxers, but changed his mind. Stepping out of the tub, he swung a towel around his waist, then slipped the wet shorts off, and tossed them into the sink. Drying off slightly, he muttered as he got to the door. “You can’t win every round,” he said, a bit victoriously. A much wiser voice inside his head whispered about winning battles but losing wars.

Dean felt so warm and happy when the angel hugged and kissed him thought he might just melt into a puddle of goo right there and he wouldn't have cared one bit. He almost pouted when Samuel suggested he get out of the tub so that he could finish his bath, but he let the angel untangle them. Looking up at Sam, and shaking his head slowly when the angel asked if he looked ridiculous.

Oh no… if there was one thing Samuel didn't look like it was that. His clothes sticking to him everywhere in all the right places. Dripping… no, definitely not ridiculous.

The young man licked his dry lips, raising an eyebrow when the angel 'suggested' he turn around. He didn't say anything, but apparently he didn't have to. His lips quirking in a grin at Samuel's frustation, however the grin quickly slipped off his face, his lips parting in a soft gasp when the angel stripped off his wet shirt.

Dean's eyes drank in the sight of Samuel's smooth muscled chest, glistening with warm water, like a man dying of thirst. His cheeks flushing even more as he imagined running his hands over the angel's skin. Feeling how warm… hard… how slick those strong muscles would feel beneath his fingertips.

He met Samuel's eyes again briefly before the angel turned away slightly, his hands going to the waistband of his jeans and Dean held his breath. Watching as Sam slowly forced the wet clingy material down his legs had the young man's heart beating faster.

Dean watched raptly as he waited for the angel to remove the last of his clothing, tilting his head a little for a better view, but when Sam stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, the young man pouted. Letting out a huff of disappointment as Samuel walked out the door, however he caught the angel's soft words and a slow grin began to spread across his face despite his disappointment.

Because this was a game Dean was definitely determined to win in the end, and if he couldn't win by playing the rules… he'd cheat.

Samuel started pulling some clothes on. Unable to shake the intensity of Dean's fear and self-loathing at the moment he'd compared himself to Rick, he kept coming to the conclusion that Dean was fragile in ways that didn't meet the eye. Actually, he was a study in contrasts. One minute mouthing off about something with the arrogance of someone who could not possibly be wrong, the next questioning himself and calling himself stupid. Competitive and motivated enough to go after what he wanted…

That thought had the angel blowing out a hot breath. He knew Dean was focused on him for the moment and if he used everything he had… Sam was in trouble.

So yeah, motivated but easy to blindside or push off track or hurt.

He had to be careful around him, try not to injure his ego. The written exam had been a mistake too. He'd just have to be creative.

As he finished dressing, he tried to close his mind to Dean, but like before, he had great difficulty. I'm just practicing, he explained. "And not doing a good job of it."

*

Fifteen minutes later, Samuel was sprawled on the sofa and dipping his spoon into velvety smooth chocolate mousse. Until recently, chocolate had been the only think he lusted after, or so he'd liked to joke. Glancing toward the hall, and still hearing nothing, he turned the t.v. on and set it to the history channel. What's taking you so long? Are you trying on all your clothes again? He teased.

Dean mentally rolled his eyes when he heard the angel's teasing in his head. Not that he really minded it. Not at all. Samuel's thoughts were always warm and gentle, even when he was teasing him.

Actually the reason why he was taking so long was after he left the bathroom he'd gone back to his own room and stood naked in front of his mirror for a long time. Not admiring himself or anything. He was comparing his body to Samuel's, and frowning a little.

His body looked nothing like the angel's, and he couldn't help but thinking, no wonder Samuel didn't want him. It wasn't that he was fat or anything, if anything he was a little on the thin side, but not scrawny. He was just… plain.

His muscles weren't nearly as well defined as the angel's was. Samuel looked like he was chiseled out of stone or something. He was… breathtaking.

Dean sighed softly. He wanted to look like Samuel did. So when the angel looked at him he'd think he was beautiful too… even though he knew he'd never be as beautiful as Samuel was.

The young man picked up his pajama bottoms to put on, but then changed his mind with a slight grin and dug out a pair of jeans Samuel had bought him today. They were black and had looked really good on him, but what the angel hadn't known was Dean switched out the pair he'd tried on with one size smaller before they left.

He pulled them on with nothing else, not even underwear, and smiled at himself in the mirror. The jeans hugged his hips and ass like a second skin, and though he zipped them up he left them unbuttoned. Adopting his most innocent expression as he made his way back to the living room where Samuel was waiting for him.

A smile tugging at his lips the way the angel was sprawled out on the couch, and Dean wasted no time taking advantage of it. Flopping down on the couch between Samuel's legs and laying back so that his head was pillowed on the angel's stomach. He made himself comfortable, smiling innocently up at Sam, before reaching for the remote and changing the channel to something more interesting.

Sam’s welcoming smile disappeared and was replaced by surprise when Dean made himself at home on top of him. His stomach clenched in reaction to his sudden awareness of the heat flowing to his groin just from the slight wiggles of Dean’s back. Well no, it wasn’t just that… it was the nearness of his face, it was the way his mouth parted as he looked up, it was how he stretched for the remote and revealed the smooth expanse of skin from his throat, down his chest and abs and…

Sam’s eyes quickly flicked up. What the… Was Dean trying to be one of the models portrayed on the Abercrombie & Fitch bags they’d carried back? Where else would he have gotten the idea that it was cool to leave his jean’s unbuttoned and go topless. Giving a long suffering sigh, he muttered, “once I set you loose on the world, you are gonna drive the ladies wild.”

And now that they were apparently channel surfing and Sam had no books at hand, it was a matter of being bored by what was on the screen or finding himself wanting to stroke and touch, yearning to explore Dean’s body in a way he had no business thinking about. ‘Beauty is only skin deep,’ he reminded himself, but the problem was that Dean was as beautiful on the inside, his mind was as intriguing as his looks. The way their minds could connect piqued Sam’s curiosity as much as it at other times inflamed his desire.

The heat from Dean’s body soaked into him, creeping up his body and ratcheting up his awareness. The intensity of the novel sensations had him holding his breath. He fought to keep his emotions in check, to keep what he was feeling at a slow burn and prevent it from taking him further down that slippery slope.

Sam’s concentration cracked and he bit down audibly hard on the spoon when Dean’s wriggles became almost too much. It was a good thing the boy couldn’t see his expression. “You should… you should sit up and eat your dessert,” he encouraged, his voice cracking slightly as he shifted to try to hide his erection. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

Dean had been more than a little afraid that Samuel would tell him to get up or move away from him. Maybe even scold him a little for his chosen position, reclining against the angel.

But when Sam didn't the young man allowed himself to relax with a smile. Making a face briefly when the angel mentioned him driving the 'ladies' wild, even though a part of him was also pleased by the compliment. The only person he wanted to drive 'wild' however, was Samuel.

Right now he simply enjoyed the warmth of Sam's body soaking into his back. His attention split between the television and the pleasant heated feelings coming across their bond that made Dean's skin tingle and even more aware of the closeness of their bodies.

He tilted his head up to look at Samuel again when the angel mentioned his dessert. It did look interesting, and he wanted to try it. But…

His expression turned thoughtful as he weighed the benefits of moving from his current position, and since he couldn't really find any that outweighed remaining right where he was, Dean simply reached up to dip his finger in Samuel's dessert. Bringing his finger to his lips and sucking the chocolate off of it with a soft moan. Once it was clean, pulling his finger out of his mouth with a pop and a grin.

"More." He said happily, opening his mouth expectantly.

Eyes transfixed on Dean as he practically made love to his finger and topped the erotic image off with a moan, Samuel suddenly knew agony. The agony of wanting… needing… the agony of desire, of heat, of lust inching through your veins and making it difficult to think. Only for a second, he allowed himself to imagine pulling Dean up into his arms and tasting the chocolate off his mouth. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t stop there, that this could easily turn into a forbidden obsession.

“Have the rest,” he said, his voice as strained as his body, as he placed the small plate on Dean’s stomach. His hand shook slightly, and he had to look away from that questioning gaze. “Use the spoon,” he swallowed hard at the image that came to mind… and it was no less tempting than the memory of Dean’s finger in his mouth. It was gonna be a long, long night.