As they walked briskly up the steep hill, Sam couldn't believe a month had passed in the blink of an eye. No, what he couldn't believe was what a difference lonly a month had made. In that short period of time, almost all signs of the shy boy he'd brought out of the asylum were gone. Of course he'd caught glimpses of his cocky side, and the mischief he was capable of, not to mention his fearsome determination. These traits were manifesting more and more as his confidence grew. Sam had to tell him several times that it was a good thing he was charming because some of the things that came out of his mouth were downright arrogant. Boy… he sure loved compliments.

They'd learned pretty quick that book learning was not Dean's area of interest. Stacks and stacks of books from the library worked like a charm… to put him to sleep! The only books he'd gotten into at all were car related, especially classics. He sometimes read them or Car Magazine or Car Collectors Magazine on those occasions that they ate up on the roof, and Sam would follow by reading for a while.

To get him to read more, Sam got in the habit of asking him to read from the newspaper as he made breakfast. Already Dean had stopped being self conscious and was reading very smoothly instead of stuttering over words. He'd learned how to use a dictionary too, though he constantly pushed for short cuts like asking Sam what something meant or grabbing his lap top. And some of the things Sam had found downloaded into his pristine lap top… it made him think that Dean might need his own.

They'd gotten into many routines. Watching t.v. with Dean's head on his chest or in his lap was… well, not what he'd expected, but it had happened. That and finding him in his bed virtually every night. Wanting him to be able to stand on his own, the only reason Sam let him in was that he knew the underlying agitation and fears were still there, eating away at Dean in the dark. He told himself he'd allow him to crawl into his bed until he was ready to sleep a whole night in his own bed alone, but the thought… oddly, it saddened him.

Not so odd, he told himself. He could be quite the creature of habit. That's what it was.

Dean could be wicked too. Sending him thoughts he shouldn't. Sometimes he had Sam tied up in ways angel's definitely shouldn't be, and other times, he had him in stitches. They laughed a lot. And the tears were very few nowadays.

Feeling Dean's glance, he turned and smiled. "We're almost there. You're sure you know how to get back? I could come get you if you want." He'd explained that Dean would get practical training from someone else twice a week and been surprised at the lack of protest.

Dean walked next to Samuel. Keeping up with the angel's quick pace even when going up the steep hill, something the young man hadn't been able to do not so long ago.

It was amazing what regular nutritious meals, light but regular exercise, and full nights of sleep could accomplish even in such a short span of time. Not to mention the fact that his body was getting used to being off the heavy drugs he'd been on for half his life. Drugs that had kept him feeling so sluggish or queasy half the time he could do hardly more than sit up or lay down through the day.

He could feel himself getting stronger. Every day. Quickly regaining what strength he'd lost in his attempted suicide, and then some. Beyond walking every day with Samuel he'd begun exercising on his own a bit. Just a few sit-ups and push-ups, trying to do a little more every day, and it made him feel good. Better than he ever had in his life.

Life with Samuel was… so unlike all of his life before it was like he was in a different world completely.

In the morning he would wake up feeling warm and safe, protected, in the angel's arms. Fully rested because he'd been able to sleep through the night without bad dreams. Relaxed, knowing he no longer had to be afraid of what might happen to him in the morning. What the doctors, nurses, or… anyone else… might do to him. Not having to be afraid of 'hallucinations' or thinking he was crazy was also a huge weight off his shoulders.

He hadn't even seen anything like… that… since Samuel had taken him out of the asylum. Except for the hospital director as they were leaving of course. Dean almost began to hope that he'd never see anything like that again, that maybe Sam had somehow 'fixed' him and now he was normal. Like everyone else.

He could only hope…

As Samuel had predicted, he had fallen quickly into a routine. Different from any he'd ever had at the asylum and it had been a good thing. After Samuel made him get up, he'd exercise, take a shower, and then join the angel helping him make breakfast.

Sam had started making him read the newspaper aloud, which he hadn't liked so much, but Samuel insisted that he practice reading for at least an hour a day. He knew Sam thought it was important, so he did it with little complaint. Though some of the books the angel had gotten for him bored him absolutely to tears. On one of their excursions in the city however Dean had managed to find some magazines that interested him and he read those, which seemed to satisfy Samuel for now. It had been slow going at first, it had been so long since Dean had read anything as complicated as a book or magazine, but he gradually got the hang of it again.

After breakfast, sometimes Samuel would take him out and they'd walk around. They went back to the park practically every day at some point. The angel had even taken him to the museum one day, and Dean had been fascinated by the dinosaur exhibit.

Most of the day though, the angel let him find things to do that he liked. Which had been rather difficult at first because Dean had absolutely no idea what he liked. He watched a lot of television. He loved cable TV. So much better than the crap they'd only been allowed to watch at the asylum. He listened to a lot of music. Classic rock was probably his favorite, he'd decided. Sometimes he'd play around on Sam's laptop when the angel wasn't using it. Looking up information on cars, or anything else he could think of.

Yes, he'd even looked up sex. The young man had been rather shocked when he found out just how much information there was on it on the internet. Much more… detailed… than the pamphlet that the angel had gotten him on sex education like they taught kids in middle school. Pictures and videos… a lot he was sure that Samuel probably wouldn't approve of him looking at.

Especially when it made his erotic fantasies involving him and Samuel as far more… well… detailed. Dean tried to keep most of that to himself however, considering what just imagining them kissing and touching had done to Samuel before. He didn't want to give the angel a heart attack or something.

Not everything he'd found had been pleasant unfortunately. A lot of it had reminded him of… Rick… things the older man had done to him… when he first saw it and left him feeling a little sick. He'd stumbled almost by accident on a website about rape, and while it had been difficult to read, it had also comforted him in some ways. Knowing now that what that man had done to him had meant to hurt, meant to cause pain, and that it wasn't supposed to be like that. It was another huge weight off his shoulders.

He didn't feel dirty, or bad anymore when he imagined him and Samuel together like that. But it was also frustrating because… he wanted to do more than just imagine. But the angel hadn't touched him like that since the first day he'd shown him how. He wanted so badly for Sam to touch him like that again, to kiss him, hold him, love him, sometimes he couldn't think about anything else and he knew when those thoughts began to leak over their bond by the way Samuel would grow quiet and fidgety around him.

His favorite part of the day was probably when he spent it curled up with Samuel on the couch watching television. The angel's fingers stroking his hair, the side of his face, or shoulder. Petting him like he was some over pampered house pet, but Dean hardly cared about that analogy. He just loved it whenever Samuel touched him. Though it was so relaxing he found himself practically falling asleep on the angel more than once and he didn't want that because he didn't want Sam to suggest he go to bed. He wanted to stay that way for as long as he could.

When the angel finally did insist he go to bed, he made Dean go to his own room. The young man would pout a little, but he didn't protest too much. He'd promised he'd try after all. Sometimes he would make it half the night, or sometimes only an hour before the nightmares woke him and he ended up back in Samuel's bed. The angel never refused him, simply lifting up his covers so Dean could slide in next to him and holding him. Soothing him until Dean fell asleep again peacefully for the rest of the night.

Dean was pulled out of his musings when Samuel spoke and he looked over at the angel with a small grin. He'd actually been very excited when Sam told him where they were going. He felt kind of like a kid on his first day of school, but this was bound to be a lot more fun than what he remembered of school. It was a little funny though how Samuel seemed a lot more worried about this than he was, and he couldn't help chuckling a little at the angel's question.

"I remember the way, don't worry. I've got your cell number, and my lunch money, and I promise to play nice with the other kids, mommy." He said, grinning cheekily. He was actually very determined to show Samuel that he could do this.

“Did you call me mommy? Insolent brat, let’s go.” Putting his hand behind Dean’s back, he walked him to the entrance of Bobby’s Garage and Body Shop.

“Sam.” A gravelly voice was heard first, before Bobby came out of a connecting room to what served as his office. “So this is Dean.” Rubbing the grease off his palms with a towel, Bobby greeted him. “Sam here says you’re interested in getting firsthand experience in fixing cars up.” He laughed, “nothing free labor to make a man want to learn faster.”

“He’s a quick learner, believe me.” Sam clapped Dean on the arm, and stood there while the two men chatted for a few minutes. Every once in a while, he felt Bobby’s gaze slide to him, and just smiled.

“I think we got it from here, Sam.”

“Yup, I think you do.” Leaning against the desk, Sam ran his finger over its dusty top and made a face.

“I don’t need a cleaner too.”

“What?” Sam’s gaze met Bobby’s. “Oh.”

“Yeah, stop acting like you’re dropping your kid off on the first day of kindergarten. He’ll be fine. Dean, go grab one of those safety sheets there, read it over, sign… drop it on the table and come on back.” Tossing the towel down, Bobby headed out of the office.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Sam assured Dean. “Let’s look at the safety sheet and make sure you understand everything on it.”

Dean knew he liked Bobby almost immediately. The older man was a little on the gruff side, and normally that would have made him very nervous. But knowing that Samuel trusted him made the younger man feel much less shy or self conscious as he'd normally feel around strangers.

They'd started talking about cars almost immediately. Bobby telling him a little of what Dean would learn while he was here, and the younger man was all too happy to chat away about what he'd read in some of his magazines. Bobby seeming like he was actually interested in what he had to say, nodding and listening to him intently when most of the people he'd known through his life were all too ready to dismiss the ramblings of the 'little crazy'.

Not that Samuel had ever treated him that way. But Dean knew his rambling about transmissions one night had nearly put the angel to sleep about as well as when Sam had tried getting him to read Shakespeare. So it would definitely be nice to have someone to talk to who was interested in cars too, not to mention teaching him how to fix them up.

Dean glanced over at Samuel however, realizing as Bobby apparently already had, the angel's reluctance to leave him here alone. Grinning and laughing softly when the older man mentioned Sam dropping him off on his first day of kindergarten. Not so far from the truth, he supposed.

The younger man nodded in understanding when Bobby left and went to get one of the sheets he mentioned. Letting Sam read it over with him, assuring the angel that he understood everything on it twice, before he signed it.

When Samuel continued to 'hover' Dean couldn't help but laugh softly, stepping up to the angel and wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. Sending reassuring thoughts over their mental link.

"I'll be fine, I promise. I won't lose any fingers, poke out an eye, or even decapitate myself." He said seriously, however he couldn't help chuckling again at the look on Samuel's face after he said that. On a whim, he leaned in to kiss the angel's lips softly. Something he hadn't dared to do often, but now he couldn't seem to help himself.

Smiling and blushing a little, Dean stepped away from the angel then.

"I'll see you at home." He said as he turned to follow Bobby out into the garage.

There was heat, where there should be warmth. Sam’s mouth tingled, and he drew a deep breath. “Home... yes.”

He stayed there for a few minutes, knowing he should leave. Part of what he was teaching Dean was independence. And yet... those safety warnings... and Dean could be so careless... maybe he should stay for just a while.

Shifting so most humans couldn’t see him, Sam walked in behind Dean. Don’t say anything out loud, they can’t see me. He tried to be quiet, and to look attentive as Bobby started to point inside the hood of an old car and tell Dean what each part was and it’s function.

He was mid-yawn when Bobby gave Dean a task, and walked through another set of doors to go out back to the body shop area. Apparently Bobby didn’t like to ‘hover.’

Dean almost couldn’t believe it when Samuel made himself ‘invisible’ and followed him out into the garage. He made some shooing motions with his hands that weren’t so obvious, but stopped when he realized how weird he must look, and mentally sighed.

I’ll be fine, Sam. Really. He tried to reassure yet again over their link, but either the angel didn’t hear him or chose to pretend he didn’t. Dean sighed aloud this time, and did his best to try to ignore Samuel for the moment. Since no one else could see the angel right now, and he didn’t want Bobby to think he was weird or something for talking to or looking at nothing there.

He’d gotten that enough during his life.

The young man was very interested in what Bobby was showing him, and it almost distracted him enough to almost forget that Samuel was there. But after a while the angel’s boredom began to leak through their bond, and when the older man gave him something to do and left, Dean finally turned to look at Sam.

“You’re distracting me.” He complained.

"Turnabout's fair play," Sam countered, giving Dean a look. At least he wasn't working Dean up into a state at an inopportune moment.

He was about to say more when a blonde with her hair in a ponytail walked in.

That's Nicole, she helps Bobby with the accounting.

"Bobby... oh... hi, and definitely not Bobby," an appreciative gleam lit up Nicole's eyes. Bobby must have taken her advice of getting some hot mechanics in order to draw in more business from women. Course she'd been joking. "I help Bobby with the accounting."

She's a student at San Francisco City College.

"I go to SFCC, work here part time..."

She's studying to be a teacher.

"... I think I want to go into teaching. And..."

She's very chatty.

"... I know I'm talking a lot. I'd better find Bobby, then I'll be back." Without giving the new mechanic a chance to answer, she slipped out the door.

"She likes you." Sam smiled. "Just about your age. You should ask her to go to lunch, she can show you around the area."

Dean rolled his eyes a little at Samuel's reply, and ok maybe it was fair, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it. He was so going to get the angel back for it later though. He also kept that to himself.

Before the young man could say anything more or get back to work someone walked into the garage, drawing his attention away from the angel.

Dean had a hard time not frowning as he listened to the young woman chatting away aloud while Sam talked in his head. In fact, it was all he could do to keep the annoyance off his face hearing the same conversation virtually in stereo.

Thank god she finally walked away. At Samuel's 'suggestion' however, he turned to the angel with a mild glare. He knew what Sam was doing. This was about the whole 'strawberry' thing again.

"No thanks." He snorted, completely uninterested, and turned his attention back to under the hood of the car. Undoing some of the plugs to take the battery out of the car like Bobby had asked him to. He was already taking a lot longer than he should and he didn't want the older man to come back and find him not done.

"She's pretty," Sam insisted, staring at Dean's back. "You should socialize with people your own age. With her motor mouth there won't be any awkward silences, if you're worried."

Still silence. The angel sighed and walked up to the car to look under its hood. He really should read up on cars, if only the topic didn't make him so sleepy. And here Dean was practically stroking the engine parts and having eyes for nothing but the machinery. If you looked at her like that I'm sure she'd purr for you, he teased, and slapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Seriously, you should try to at least be friends with her. Maybe go to the movies. I didn't say girlfriend."

He managed to stay quiet when Bobby came back, checked on Dean's progress and gave him some new instructions. Nicole was with him.

She's looking at you. She likes you, stop ignoring her. It's rude.

"Lets get those bills paid and then you can gawk at my new mechanic," Bobby said gruffly walking back into his office with his part time office help in tow.

Sam pushed Dean. "Rude," he nodded.

Dean did his best to ignore Samuel, focusing on his work instead. Some of his annoyance at the angel’s insistence leaking through their bond, his only response. What, just because she was ‘pretty’ he was supposed to marry her or something? What if he didn’t like ‘chatty’? Had Samuel ever thought of that? He didn’t want to ‘socialize’. He didn’t want to go out with girls. He only wanted Samuel.

I’d rather make you purr. The young man thought to himself with a little sigh. Shaking his head.

At least Samuel was quiet when Bobby came back to see how he was doing and to give him more instructions. Dean completely ignored the girl more to annoy Sam than anything else. After all, it wasn’t like he disliked her. He didn’t even know her, but at the same time, he didn’t really want to.

He made a face when Samuel called him rude. He wondered if this was how the angel was going to react every single time he ‘met’ someone new. Well, if Samuel was going to be annoying…

A somewhat wicked gleam entered the young man’s eyes and the angel probably should have been a little afraid if he could see it. He shifted his legs apart a little as he bent over the hood of the car. Reaching far, letting his t-shirt ride up.

Conjuring up a picture in his mind and purposefully letting it leak over to the angel. Of Samuel stepping up behind him as he was bent over. The angel’s hands grasping his hips as he leaned into him. Bending over him, pressing his chest against his back, Sam’s lips at his neck.

Though he had been trying to tease the angel, Dean’s breath hitched a little at the unexpected spike of desire that shot through him at his own fantasy.

Sam was simultaneously preparing to argue that Dean should pay at least as much attention to Nicole as to Bobby and that angels most definitely did not purr, when he found his breath suddenly coming out in a rush, and a now all too familiar heat welling up in him. Caught unaware, he found himself stepping toward Dean, needing to touch him… to bring their bodies close the way he’d seen it in his head.

He could have stopped or pulled back, but he didn’t. Closing the gap between them, he put his arms around Dean’s waist, his fingers sliding over the warm sliver of skin showing above his waistband. The sensation of taut muscles rippling against his chest, the brush of his jean clad body against Dean’s, and the feelings emanating through their link was almost overwhelming. A strange heaviness settled in his body, and his skin tightened.

Jesu-- Biting his lip, he leaned in and whispered against Dean’s ear. “Not nice to tease an angel. Sometimes they tease back.” Allowing Dean to feel how he’d affected him both physically and emotionally, he added, don’t lose any fingers.

Then he was gone.

The young man was in no way prepared for the force of the feelings that slammed into him when his fantasy suddenly became reality. When the warmth of the body pressing behind him was suddenly real and not only his imagination. When the fingers touching his bare skin made him shiver and grow hot at the same time. When he pressed back against the strength of the angel’s chest, a choked moan catching in his throat feeling Samuel’s crotch pressed firmly against the swell of his ass.

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper escaping his parted lips feeling the warm whisper against his ear. The words themselves almost meaningless to him, lost in the sound of his heavy breaths and thundering heart.

“Sam…” His whisper was a plea, for what he wasn’t even sure, but Samuel was already moving away and by the time Dean turned around the angel was gone.

He let out a long breath, leaning against the hood of the car for a few minutes with his eyes closed trying to calm his racing heart. Get his breathing back under control, and stamp down on his arousal still pumping like liquid fire through his veins so he could think clearly again.

With a muttered curse, Dean took off his long sleeved shirt and tied it around his waist to hide his erection. Trying to focus once more on the car and not Samuel, though it was proving a difficult task even now that the angel was gone. Oh, Samuel was so going to get it when he got home.

A small smile curved the young man’s lips.

He couldn’t wait.

* * *

Victory was of little consolation if it made you suffer. That was Sam’s conclusion about his strategy with Dean in the morning. It had misfired. Gloriously. And his suffering kept emerging during the day, each time his mind went back to that brief moment when he’d held Dean close, not like a child, not to comfort, but like a lover.

Hours later, after he’d accomplished endless errands and finished up a difficult research project that he’d turned in to the Council, he’d returned home with a few groceries and a tub of ice cream. Chocolate.

Though he liked to think that he’d finished his research because he hadn’t been talking with Dean, or answering his questions or worrying about him being bored, the truth was he’d missed having him there like a sounding board. All day long, he hadn’t even attempted to brush his mind, but that didn’t mean the urge wasn’t there.

He looked at the clock for the tenth time, wondering if he ought to just go find him. No, he needed to learn independence and Sam wouldn’t be selfish. If he got in trouble, he had his cell, and he could call him using the link. He was fine. He was a grown man, there was no reason to worry.

Right. And that was why Sam was sitting with a cup of tea and a newspaper, his eyes glued to the window as he searched for signs of Dean’s arrival.

Dean walked briskly, humming Metallica happily under his breath, as he returned home from Bobby’s garage. He hadn’t been able to wash all the grease out from under his fingernails and there was even a little smudged on his face but he didn’t care. He rather liked it, in fact.

He’d learned so much just working for Bobby for one day, and the older man had even told him he’d done a good job before he left, leaving the younger man glowing all the way home. He couldn’t wait to go back to the garage later on in the week, but it wasn’t that excitement that had him quickening his pace, grinning wider, as he neared his and Samuel’s apartment.

He couldn’t help thinking all day about that brief moment when the angel had been pressed up behind him. Replaying the moment over and over in his head. Drawing it out. Adding to it. He’d been half hard for most of the day, making it a little hard to concentrate, and right now he wanted nothing more than a repeat of the experience… and more…

Dean used the key Samuel had given him to let himself inside the apartment. His smile widening when he saw the angel sitting in a chair over by the window, smiling in greeting back at him. The young man wasted no time closing the distance between them, keeping his thoughts carefully shielded so the angel wouldn’t bolt before…

Though the slightly naughty glint in his eyes might have given him away, but not before he sat down, straddling the angel’s lap, his knees on either side of Sam while his arms went around the angel’s neck. Effectively trapping him there as Dean pressed his mouth to Samuel’s with a low moan. Letting all of the arousal he’d felt all day flood over their bond as he licked the angel’s lips, seeking entry.

He’d had no warning, no time to prepare for the assault on his senses. Caught in the grips of Dean’s feverish needs and wants echoed and multiplied by his own, Sam grew painfully hard. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide and every motion just brought him closer to Dean. Awareness and need slammed into him so hard, he couldn’t breathe.

Dean? The question was burned out of his mind the instant Dean leaned in and brought their mouths together. A soft sound escaped Samuel, and then he was lost. He opened his mouth for Dean, letting Dean’s tongue push inside. Just one stroke of Dean’s tongue, and Sam was swamped by hunger like he’d never experienced before, so intense, so seductive, he couldn’t resist.

One of his hands slipped up Dean’s chest, and he could feel the boy’s heart slamming against his chest. Oh God, should this be affecting him like this? He didn’t know, but without thinking he put both arms around Dean and dragged him up harder against his frame. There was no space between them, no way for him to hide his reactions, no way for him to ignore Dean’s this time. He tangled his fingers into the hair at Dean’s nape, clenching them as the urgency built. Never felt like this.

The kiss wasn't perfect. After all, it was Dean's first real attempt, and one could only learn so much from pictures and television. But he liked to think what he lacked in experience he made up with in enthusiasm, and he was a fast learner. He tilted his head to the side a little so their noses wouldn't bump, their teeth clicking only once, and quickly got the hang of stroking his tongue along the angel's. Moaning softly into Sam's mouth at the feelings it produced inside of him.

Arousal rushing through him like a hot wave. Making his skin feel hypersensitive, pooling in his groin and in seconds he was so hard it was a little painful in the trapped confines of his jeans. The young man hardly cared about that discomfort however because Samuel was pulling him even closer, and Dean whimpered into the angel's mouth as he rubbed his erection against his firm stomach. However it was feeling Sam's answering hardness pressing against his ass that nearly made the young man spontaneously combust.

Thought about you all day... Wanted you... so much... There were definitely certain advantages to the link they shared, like not having to break their kiss even to speak. He'd never felt like this either. Never knew it could be so good.

His fingers threaded through the angel's soft hair as he settled more comfortably in Sam's lap. Rolling his hips, rubbing his ass more firmly against Samuel's erection.

With each rock of Dean’s hips, Sam’s blood grew hotter… so hot, he could barely endure it. He started to arch to the rhythm Dean set, chasing his toned ass, needing the pressure like he needed to breathe. Awareness of Dean’s own arousal pressing into his stomach added fuel to the fire. I feel how hard you are… it’s incredible. So incredible he couldn’t even manage to guard his thoughts… his needs.

He drew in a long, ragged breath, inhaling the intoxicating mix of fresh sandalwood soap and a hint of metal tinged axel grease. Before he could share how much it enthralled him, Dean’s mouth was on his again. This time Samuel leaned forward, welding their mouths together as they kissed harder, his mind almost exploding with the tastes and sensations sweeping through him.

Needing. Wanting things he shouldn’t. Tempted beyond reason, his mind became a riot of images… standing and pressing Dean up against the wall. Kissing his wet, slippery chest in the tub. Pushing him down to his knees. Groaning, trying to close his mind to such sinful things, he dragged Dean closer, so hard he could feel the imprint of Dean’s muscled chest against his. If he concentrated on kissing… maybe he wouldn’t slip any further down the slope. Kiss me again. Just like that.

He felt like his insides were melting. Like he could just melt into a puddle right here in Samuel’s lap. Dean felt so hot. Everywhere their bodies touched was scorching. But instead of being burned by the heat, he wanted more of it. Wanted to mould himself to the angel and never be parted from him again. Even if the burning consumed him alive. He wanted to keep kissing Sam forever. Not even caring if he ever breathed again.

Of course this was not a realistic wish. The burning in his lungs forcing him away from the angel’s mouth, panting hotly against his lips. His own lips tingling and feeling a little sore, but it felt so damn good… Though not as good as the feeling of Samuel arching beneath him. The angel’s cock, like a hot iron brand, rubbing even harder against his ass.

So good… so good… Samuel…

The young man made a desperate sound between a moan and a whimper and crushed their mouths together again. Whimpering again into the kiss when he began to see the erotic images flashing before his mind’s eye. Answering each one with his own.

Wrapping his arms and legs around the angel tightly as Samuel pinned him against the wall, lifting him off his feet, rocking against him. Arching beneath the mouth sliding over his wet chest, his fingers tightening in Sam’s damp hair, guiding that mouth to one of his nipples. As he dropped to his knees his hands went to the angel’s waist, eagerly opening his jeans, sliding them lower so he could finally see Sam fully…

He wanted to see him now. God, he wanted to touch him…

Fitting his hands between their bodies was not an easy task considering he didn’t even want to pull away from the angel, but the desire to feel Sam’s bare skin beneath his hands convinced him. Working his way down the front of Samuel’s shirt, practically ripping open buttons in his haste and moaning again when he was finally able to run his palms down the front of Sam’s muscled chest. As much as he wanted to explore every inch his fingers didn’t stop till they reached the waistband of Sam’s jeans. Quickly undoing the angel’s belt.

Want to touch you… So bad…

Popping the button of Sam’s jeans Dean slid his hand down the front.

Dean’s answer to each of the images flashing in his head ratcheted ramped up Sam’s need until he was mindlessly kissing and grinding, accepting, wanting, demanding, taking...

I’m supposed to give, not take...

Just as he started to regain his sensibility, his shirt was tugged with such palpable desperation, like an echo it sent a strong surge straight to Sam’s cock. His head tilted back, hitting the chair.

And then Dean’s palms were leaving hot trails of fire up and down his chest, feeding his passion until Sam was shuddering and so out of control, he barely recognized himself. He started to tug Dean close again, wanting to be mouth to mouth, needing to taste him, needing to entwine his tongue with Dean’s again.

He registered some resistance, but his mind was slow. He was trying to work out the reason Dean’s mouth wasn’t sliding against his, when he felt his buckle get pushed aside. The instant Dean’s hand went down his pants and closed over his arousal, Sam almost came off the chair. “Dean...” he gave a strangled cry, his entire body clenching suddenly with the need for release. Things he wanted Dean to do to him, ways he wanted to be touched slipped through his mind and he was already reacting to the images of Dean stroking him, running his thumb over his crown... of kissing him and sucking and...

The image of himself spilling his seed brought him to his senses... but only barely. He gripped Dean’s wrist. Opening his eyes, he locked gazes with Dean and shook his head as he pulled Dean’s hand away from him. “I can’t. This isn’t allowed for me... against rules,” he panted, still writhing but trying to regain control over his body. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have teased over at Bobby’s... but I really can’t do this.”

Leaning forward, Sam brushed Dean’s lips. I want to. I want to so bad... but Angels don’t. Pulling back, he gently started to push Dean off his lap, biting his lip at the contact between Dean’s ass and his still rock hard erection. “Go and... go take care of yourself,” he whispered, showing Dean in his head that he should go to the bathroom and masturbate. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to take the feelings that would continue to haunt him over the link, but there was no reason for both of them to suffer. “It’ll be better.” He tried desperately not to look down at the bulge in the front of Dean’s jeans. Feeling it had been more than enough.

Dean felt himself go weak inside when his fingers wrapped around the burning hot length of Sam’s arousal. Feeling it throb in his hand, the way the angel bucked beneath him between his legs, crying out his name, the young man nearly came at that moment.

“Sam…” He panted breathlessly. Making a sound half way between a moan and a whimper when he started to see what Samuel wanted him to do, feeling the angel’s passion, fire fueling his own, and his hand moved without thought. Sliding down and up the silken length of hot steel, running his thumb around the head of the shaft just as he was seeing. Feeling the wetness dripping at the tip, his lips parted in a breathless moan. His eyes wide, lust blown pupils drinking in Sam’s every reaction like a drug. An addiction. Always needing more.

More of Samuel’s moans of pleasure. More of his kisses that left Dean breathless. Sam’s hot seed spilling between his fingers…

But then suddenly, Samuel was grabbing his wrist. Shaking his head as the angel shook his head and pulled his hand away from his cock and Dean was left reeling. Trapped between conflicting emotions of intense burning desire and confusion as well as no small amount of hurt at the sudden unexpected rejection.

“What…?” He barely managed to squeak out. The only thing coherent he could manage when his body was still trembling with unfulfilled lust. His hand still tingling where it had been wrapped around the angel’s erection, his fingertips wet with pre-come and all he wanted to do was put them into his mouth so he could taste. No, what he really wanted to do was touch Samuel again, stroking him to completion, feeling him pulse and throb in his hand, but the angel’s hand around his wrist prevented either. His trapped cock aching painfully in his jeans, only growing worse when he felt Samuel’s brush against his ass again when the angel tried to push him off gently, but Dean refused to move.

No. He didn’t understand and Samuel’s explanations didn’t satisfy him in the least.

“Why?” Dean finally managed to pant. Desperation coloring his voice from more than just the unfulfilled desire coursing through his veins. “What rules? I don’t understand… you said everyone does this… Why can you touch me but I can’t touch you?”

Touch. Samuel groaned out loud at Dean’s choice of words. As if Dean’s desperation beating against him, calling to him, drowning him … wasn’t enough. Breathing hard, he met Dean’s gaze and seeing his swollen lips and his eyes still glazed with desire, he almost gave in. Almost.

He blinked, trying to think straight when every cell in his body was still screaming for Dean’s touch. “It’s always been that way. Angels can give, not take.” Now it was impossible for him to help Dean find release because everything had changed and he would find pleasure even in that act. The weight of that stare never lifted from him, nor did the question in those fathomless green eyes.

“It’s a sin. For angels.” Sam drew another long breath, his voice lowering an octave, “you make me want to sin.”

God in heaven, how he wanted to go back to the point right before they’d stopped. How he wanted Dean’s hand on him again, their minds melding together, fueling each others’ passion. His chest rose and fell as those images started to torture him again. No. Gripping Dean’s hips, he got up suddenly, biting his lip as Dean slid down his body before his feet touched the ground.

“This is what happens when you choose strawberry.” A gust of wind blew over them, and Sam's expression hardened, wanting Dean to understand. “You can’t have it.” Turning around he walked away toward his room, holding his jeans up with one hand. I can’t have it.

Pain and disappointment certainly wasn’t something Dean was a stranger to. But maybe it felt so much worse now because of how good he’d been feeling just a few moments ago. So much pleasure. So much passion. So much warmth. So much… love…

All gone in an instant with a few words.

It’s a sin. You make me want to sin.

Those words played over and over in his mind. He was deaf to almost everything else. Blinded by the tears crowding behind his eyes. Mute from the painful choking lump forming in his throat.

He had no idea how he even remained standing on his feet when Samuel got up suddenly. Pushing him off his lap forcefully this time. Dean shivered seeing the hard look on the angel’s face. In Samuel’s eyes…

It left him feeling cold. Numb. When Samuel walked away from him. Dean didn’t watch him go. He couldn’t even move. Those words still echoing in his head and finally a few tears slid down his cheeks.

You make me want to sin.

Dean didn’t know how long he stood there before he quietly shut down the link between them. He doubted the angel even realized it. He didn’t want Samuel to. Then he turned and walked to and out the door he’d just come in… minutes ago… god it seemed so much longer. Leaving the apartment. Leaving the building. Picking a direction and just started walking, he didn’t even care which way he went. He hardly even looked up from the sidewalk as his feet took him farther and farther away from Samuel but not the pain he was feeling.

A long, cold shower had Sam shivering, but brought him back to his senses. Mostly. He found he still had to turn his mind away from Dean or else he found himself craving worse than he craved his nightly dose of a dessert. Another hour spent on his knees on the hard floor, palms raised and eyes closed as Latin prayers left his lips, finally centered him to the point where he could face Dean again. He hoped.

At least Dean had been kind enough to close his mind when he went about finding his release. If he hadn’t, Samuel didn’t know how he would have handled the overload. He knew he hadn’t done a good job of explaining the situation, but he couldn’t… not in the state he’d been. This was uncharted territory for him too, but Dean probably thought of him as all powerful and all knowing. Little did he know, the more knowledge you had, the smaller you felt… because you developed an awareness of exactly how much there was out there that you didn’t know, and would never know even if every hour of your life were spent learning.

Dressed conservatively in a crisp white shirt that was buttoned up, and black jeans, and hair still wet but slicked away from his face, Sam emerged again from his room. He’d been expecting to find Dean laying on the sofa and watching t.v., but no one was in the livingroom. The door to Dean’s room had been open, and he hadn’t been there. “Dean?”

Striding to the bathroom, he knocked, and pushed the door open. Turning, he headed for the kitchen, cold shards of fear settling in his stomach. “Dean? Dam…”

He took a deep breath and tried their mind link. Dean? Dean where are you? Silence. A cold loneliness. Dean, answer me. Let me in. Please, we can talk now. Dean… Dean.

Fear turned to panic, and grabbing his jacket, Sam was out the door and down the stairs. The first place he looked was the restaurant downstairs since Dean had gotten to know the waiters, and they’d eaten there a couple of times. Then he rushed uphill to a neighborhood coffee shop, and the ice cream store they sometimes went to. Nothing… not a sign of him.

Rubbing his clammy hands on his jean, Sam tried to think where else Dean could have gone. For the umpteenth time, he tried his cell and tried to reach him mentally. The sound of silence was slowly driving him mad. San Francisco was filled with people, shoulder to shoulder… Dean didn’t like crowds. The streets could be confusing, and he hadn’t walked around alone much. What if he was so distraught that he wasn’t watching for traffic? What if he saw one of his nightmares walking down the streets and reverted? What if.

There were no ‘what ifs,’ Sam simply had to find him. Dean, please answer me, please… please,, he begged with every long step he took, determined to search every street surrounding his apartment.

Hours later, the crowds had thinned on the streets. It was near midnight, and still Sam’s desperate mental calls fell on deaf ears. Consumed with worry, he started to retrace his steps, almost crushing the phone in his hand as he pressed ‘re-dial.’

The night air was a little chilly and he didn’t have a coat. Though Dean hardly noticed the way he shivered. Didn’t even know if it was caused by the cold outside or the cold he felt inside. The hours he’d spent walking hadn’t dampened the heartache or crushing disappointment he felt which had driven him to leave Samuel’s apartment. Hadn’t brought an end to his confusion about why Samuel had said before it was ‘normal’ for him to feel such desires, but for the angel it was a sin.

You make me want to sin… What did that make him then? Evil?

When he’d first felt the brush of Samuel’s thoughts against the barrier he’d placed between their minds, Dean had pulled away further. Hiding from him. He just couldn’t ‘talk’ to the angel right now. Just the thought hurt too much. He was too afraid of what Samuel might say… after how the angel had looked at him… Dean had pulled away so far he could barely feel him at all anymore. He’d turned his cell phone off long ago.

He had no idea where he was now. He didn’t even know what time it was, though he knew it had to be late because the crowds of people on the sidewalks had thinned considerably, and all the shops had closed a long time ago. The young man was exhausted but he had no idea how to get ‘home’, he didn’t know if he could face Samuel again, even now. Even though he desperately wanted to, he was afraid…

But he was tired, and the later it got the more afraid he was being out on the streets all alone, so Dean finally entered one of the few places still open he came across. A bar.

The air was thick with smoke almost making him choke and the music was much too loud, not to mention the crush of people that unnerved inside. But between this and remaining alone out in the open outside, this seemed like the lesser evil at the moment. The young man sat down at an empty seat at the bar, glad to be off his feet, but he shook his head when the bartender asked him if he wanted anything.

He’d never had alcohol before and he didn’t have any money anyway. So he simply sat there nibbling on the peanuts that were apparently free and ignoring the people who tried to engage him in conversation. Deciding he definitely wasn’t going to stay for very long, but then again, where else could he go?

Lost in his thoughts Dean didn’t even notice the guy who came up behind him at first until he heard his voice almost directly in his ear. Making him jump slightly.

“Two scotches, on the rocks, for me and my friend here, Juli.” The man said, not unkindly, laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The young man immediately started to pull away, shaking his head in refusal, and the guy took his hand back, holding it up in apology.

“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t mean any harm, you just look like you could use a drink.” The older man said with a smile probably meant to put him at ease even though Dean still watched him warily. The bartender came back with the drinks and the man pushed one towards him.

“It’ll help. Trust me.” He said, taking a drink from his own glass. Dean looked at the liquor a moment, hesitating , before he picked it up and started to drink it. Coughing a little at the unexpected burn of the alcohol going down his throat, pooling like liquid fire in his stomach, finally warming him a little inside, and the man chucked a little warmly, patting him on his back a little.

“That a boy.” The other man said, ordering them another round.

The guy, Adam he said his name was, sat down beside him and started talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Not seeming to mind that he wasn’t very talkative back, buying him another drink once he finished his previous one. Even though Dean was tipsy after only two drinks, he accepted the third and fourth as well, and the man was right, it did help. Maybe not taking away the pain, but dulling it.

When the man started touching him on his arm, or leg, Dean didn’t balk as he’d done before. He was feeling too relaxed by then. His thoughts fuzzy. When the guy asked him if he wanted to leave, Dean simply shrugged and allowed the man to pull him off his barstool. Letting him hold him around his waist when he almost slid to the floor and led him outside.

The cool air outside sobering him a little, but only a little, and he tried to pull away and walk on his own now but he found he couldn’t. Dean wasn’t even sure where he was when he was pushed up against a wall and he felt a mouth covering his own. A tongue forcing itself inside before he could protest. Panic beginning to make his heart beat faster when he felt demanding hands start to slide beneath his t-shirt. He wanted to push the man away, spit out the tongue exploring every inch of his mouth, but he felt like he was paralyzed, unable to do either.

No…

After all the silence, the single word was a loud bloodcurdling shout in Samuel’s mind. Refusing to panic, he sought the mental link, demanding answers. Where are you? I’ll come for you, tell me where you are… Dean… where? What is happening.

He started to walk faster, praying harder, trying desperately to tune into the weak feedback he was getting. At first it was just confusion. Then fear. Not the sharp sort, but a dull lethargic fear that Sam didn’t understand. Dean, please, I’m coming for you. Just tell me… tell me where… where?

Then he was running, his feet hitting the pavement and the sound echoing off the surrounding building. He stopped trying to talk to Dean, because there were no answers, just stuttered thoughts that made no sense. If Dean could see the images in his mind, and vice versa, maybe there was a way he could see what Dean saw.

He laser focused his mind on one thing alone… Dean’s thoughts, Dean’s feeling, his senses… Suddenly he felt hard hands exploring his body, a tongue too deep in his throat and tasting of peanutbutter, a hard wall behind him… the feeling of being trapped. Where…where… forcing himself to close off one sense after another, until he could no longer feel or hear or smell or touch, he started to see the face in front of him.

Dean, look up… look for a street sign… anything… look around you. Do it. Do it for me.

It was quick… like Dean’s face had been jerked back, but it was enough. Sam caught a glimpse of the skyline and knowing the city as well as he did, he pinpointed Dean’s location. He never broke his stride as his wings opened up and he took to the air, now invisible to most.

I’m here. An instant later, he dropped to the ground, his eyes as black as cold coal. A gust of wind hit Adam right before Sam put his hands on his shoulder. White hot light glowed from Sam’s hand, and Adam fell to his knees, then to the ground.

Sam caught Dean in his embrace and looked into his eyes, immediately noticing his dilated pupils. You’re safe now. He closed his arms tight around Dean, going visible only for a moment as someone walked out. “Call the police, this man is drugging people with Rohypnol.” When the man shook his head like he didn’t want to be involved, Sam touched his arm. The guy went back inside.

Disappearing again and holding Dean tight, Sam shot straight up into the sky. Dean, you’re with me. You’re safe, he kept reassuring both with his mind touches, and by washing waves of warmth and light over Dean.

Once they reached his building, he easily carried Dean up the stairs and into his apartment, setting him down on the sofa and sitting next to him. “Look at me, can you talk?” His nostrils flared as he watched Dean struggle. This was all his fault. He should have stayed and explained. He should have been sure Dean understood before he left like he had and got himself in trouble. He ran his hand over Dean’s face. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Please say something.”

The feeling of being unable to move, unable to even think, while rough callused hands explored his flesh against his will was not a new sensation. However he had believed, foolishly it seemed, that it would never happen to him again.

It was like being caught between being asleep and awake. His every reaction slowed. His every sense dulled. His every thought a struggle. It was almost easier to just close his eyes and pretend it was only a bad dream. Any moment now he’d wake up and Samuel would be there. The angel’s warm arms around him, holding him, keeping him safe. Protecting him…

Not the cold unfeeling hands sliding over his chest underneath his shirt. Pinching his nipples hard, making him wince. Callous rough hands sliding down the back of his jeans, clutching at his ass while an insistent tongue continued to ravage his mouth as he whimpered pathetically.

No… no it wasn’t happening. Any moment now he’d wake up. Samuel would be there. Samuel would hold him. Touch him gently. Kiss him softly. Samuel wouldn’t let the nightmares have him. Samuel…

Dean could hear him. He could feel him. He tried to speak back, but he couldn’t find his inner voice any easier than he could shout for help with his real one. He just couldn’t. No matter how hard he struggled. Pushing weakly at the man holding him against the wall. No… no… He had to wake up. He had to…

Samuel…

Somehow he forced his eyes open. He bit down hard on the man’s lips violating him and finally the man pulled away from his mouth. Dean’s vision clearing only for a second before it exploded in stars. His head snapping back, hitting the wall behind him when he was backhanded. His vision swimming. His eyes rolling closed once more when he felt the man’s mouth on his neck next. Sucking a mark into his skin while hands worked to get his jeans open.

Then suddenly the weight in front of him, pinning to him was gone and Dean began to slide bonelessly down the wall. Only to be caught a second later. Held close against a warm broad chest. Cradled protectively in gentle arms and Dean relaxed almost instantly when he took in the clean warm scent he knew so well.

Samuel… his angel…

Comfort and warmth washed over him in waves. Wrapped around him like a blanket and Dean practically melted into the angel’s arms. Not struggling anymore. Completely trusting. Knowing he was safe.

It wasn’t until the angel set him down that Dean struggled to open his eyes again. Realizing they were home, safe, and the young man found he just wanted to close his eyes again. To go to sleep curled up warm and safe in Sam’s arms. Anything else simply seemed too much of an effort right now. But the angel was looking at him with such worry he knew he had to answer somehow. Pressing his cheek into the warm hand that caressed his face, Dean licked his lips.

“I had… a… bad dream…” He finally managed to slur. Reaching out weakly for the angel. But then you came…

"Yes, a very bad dream," he whispered, taking Dean in his arms once again and holding him for a while. The only way Samuel held onto his sanity was by reminding himself it could have gone worse. He rocked slowly back and forth, occasionally looking down into Dean's face and brushing his mind until all of the panic and anxiety was completely gone.

When he started to detangle himself from Dean, despite his lethargy, Dean suddenly appeared more than able to cling to him. "I'm just getting you something to drink, I'll be right back." It took a bit more convincing, but Dean eventually let him go. Sam felt his eyes on him as he went to the kitchen.

He got the coffee started, then stood in the doorway, in Dean's line of sight and explained again he'd be back. Half asleep, but fighting to stay awake, he looked just like a child. No, not a child. Those bedroom eyes, those sensuous lips... trouble. Especially in this stage of his life, when he thought he knew a lot, but was in fact naïve in many ways. How was Sam to teach him to mix with people and socialize, and yet to know to avoid the predators, and do so without scaring him? This was Rick all over again, and Samuel blamed himself for his lack of vigilence.

Turning his head when the coffee finished brewing, he stepped into the kitchen and returned with a large mug of coffee, which he'd cooled down with water. Even before he got to the couch, Dean was reaching for him.

He sat down and had Dean take a few sips of the coffee, before letting him slip back into his embrace. It was clear Dean was having difficulty speaking, so Sam did all the talking. Turning the television on, he promised they'd go to bed once Dean finished the coffee. Then he turned the news on and gave running commentary, brushing Dean's hair, stroking his back, always making sure that one way or the other, he was always aware he wasn't alone.

About a half hour later, reassured that Dean wasn't overdosing, wouldn't slip into a coma and didn't need any more medical attention than the angel had given him through touches, he got up with the boy still in his arms. "You've put on a little weight," he laughed, comparing how light and far more bony Dean had been the day he'd gotten him out of the asylum.

Depositing him on his bed, Sam found himself being tugged and pulled. Laughing he shook his head. "I think I'm gonna have to call you 'octopus.' Dodging those arms, he started to undress Dean. He'd planned to go and get the boy's own pajamas, but now instead retrieved his own from the drawer. After a bit of tugging and pulling, and rolling up of the pants, he had him dressed and under the covers. "I'll be right there," he reassured.

Quickly changing, he got in the bed and wasn't surprised when Dean immediately rolled close and settled on his chest, burying his face under his neck. Sleep. You're safe. No more dream, I promise.