Bobby put it to him simply. If he wanted to go on the hunt with Bobby next Friday to take down the werewolf, then Dean would go to the barbque at the Colts and play nice. No sulking. No bitching.

Sam met them at the door, surprise showing on his healing face. He really hadn't expected them to come but was glad they had. He took the strawberry shortcake Bobby brought and led them out back. He grinned at the two.

"Mom said you were interested in archery, Bobby, so she went all out."

The backyard was long a deep with a ten foot privacy fence along the back. Beyond the fence was a defunct golf course. People used it for jogging and walking their dogs, but the path was well away from the yard. Targets were set up along the fence. A target hung from a tree by a rope and swung gently in the breeze and there were a few other targets set up on spinning or tilting boards.

"Dad, this is Mr. Singer. Bobby."

The father smiled and shook Bobby's hand. "Jim Colt. Glad you two could come. Knowing my wife, I don't imagine she gave you much choice," he said with a laugh. "During the summer, we try to make it a habit to have a cook out every couple weekends. Sometimes I invite friends from work, or Keiko does, and sometimes it's just us. We occasionally throw parties, but we like the small get togethers. Gives people a chance to really talk without distractions of a bunch of other people. I keep trying to convince Keiko a small pool would be a good idea but," he shrugged, "heaven forbid anything interferes with her and her archery." He waved his hand toward a cooler. "Beer and soda in there, help yourself. If you're hungry now, we've got chips and nachos and such over on the picnic table. There's a pool table downstairs if it gets too hot out here and Sam said Dean might like to see my old Mustang. Oh, and be forewarned, my wife is a photographer. She will be taking pictures."

"Dad, can I have a beer?" Sam asked hopefully.

"You can have up to three. Now or later. You choose," Jim told him.

Sam grabbed a beer and offered one each to Bobby and Dean.

Seeing the newcomers eyeing the targets set up, Jim laughed. "Don't feel the need to keep me company. Go on. Keiko was quite excited by the opportunity to have someone new to shoot with. Sam's pretty good. I, however, absolutely suck at it."

Keiko saw them and hurried over. "You made it. I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of assuming you might like a little target practice," she told Bobby. She had several bows laid out and ready. "Does Mr. Talkative like to shoot too?" she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at Dean.

Dean wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy since Bobby decided to manipulate him into going to the Colt’s god damned barbeque by refusing to take him on the hunt he’d promised unless he did. He’d actually told the older hunter to fuck off when Bobby had first told him. The shouting match that had erupted afterwards had been impressive, even for them, and ended when Dean had finally stormed out of the house and drove off.

He didn’t go home that night.

The next day, Dean didn’t go to school. Well, he’d gone. Just long enough to break into the records office like he’d planned, but he didn’t attend any of his classes. Yeah, Bobby was going to have a cow, but he didn’t give a fuck right now. He’d driven by Sam’s house a couple of times during the day, just to make sure that the younger boy was all right. To make sure that Eric, or someone else, didn’t show up unexpectedly at the younger boy’s house.

It was with no small amount of smug satisfaction that Dean noticed that Eric’s car wasn’t in the school parking lot when he’d finally drove back to the school at the end of the day. He’d watched, at a discrete distance, the other students leaving the school on busses, being picked up, or taking their own cars home. He saw the group of boys who’d beaten up Sam leaving. They looked a little nervous. Well, they should be.

Dean didn’t follow them. He didn’t need to, he knew where they lived. That afternoon, one by one, he’d taken care of them. He made sure they were alone, no witnesses. He didn’t even beat the shit out of them, like he really wanted to. But he’d certainly made them piss their pants. One boy literally when he held his pocket knife to the little bastard’s dick, promising he’d cut all their balls off and shove them down their throats if they so much looked at Sam the wrong way again.

Of course Bobby had given him hell that night when he’d finally gone home, and Dean hardly spoke to the older man for the rest of the week. Yeah, he was here, at the fucking barbeque. But he was he wasn’t going to pretend he was happy just because Bobby had ordered him to stop ‘sulking’ on the way here.

Dean noted Sam seemed to be healing up well at least when the younger boy answered the door, but he didn’t reply to the cheerful greeting. Following along mutely behind as they were led out into the back yard. He eyed the cheerful looking back yard but kept his distaste to himself. It was all so fucking happy suburban family it made him sick.

He took the beer that Sam offered him, but he didn’t drink it. The brief flicker of annoyance that crossed his face at the mention of pictures his first reaction since they’d arrived, and it was quickly schooled away. When Sam’s mother finally came up to them and addressed him directly, asking him if he liked to shoot, Dean merely averted his eyes and shook his head in denial. Normally he did enjoy practicing with a bow actually. Bullets didn’t work on everything after all, and it was kind of fun and different. He just wanted to find a place where he could sit and hopefully they would forget about him until it was time to leave.

Bobby wanted to simply throttle the boy. It wasn't too god-damned much to ask for Dean to try to be social for once. They hadn't had a fight like this in years. He was also worried, frankly. The kid was nineteen. He didn't have to stay at Bobby's anymore. He might think he knew enough about hunting to make it on his own and to go his own way. When Dean didn't come home that first night, Bobby almost caved when Dean got back. He'd always wanted to offer the boy some bit of normalcy in his life. Family picnics were normal and how often did Bobby get invited to one? Lessee, since his wife died…exactly one. This one.

He wanted to go. He wanted to learn more about the family whose son Dean had taken an interest in. He wanted to see what sort of people they were. He couldn't deny he wanted to learn more about the petite Japanese woman who was rather unlike most women he had met. There was no denying that if she weren't married he would have asked her out, even if he had a few years on her. She was married, he would never flirt with her of course, but a bit of a friendship would be nice. Friendship with some regular, non hunter related folk. He hadn't had that in years. Dean had never had that, though Bobby had tried to encourage him to make friends. Dean had just been hurt so many times that at times, Bobby feared Dean wouldn't ever being anything but a solitary friendless hunter. What if something happened to Bobby? Dean had no one and he wouldn't reach out to anyone. Sam he connected with for whatever reason. Bobby was trying to support that, trying to get Dean to understand Sam had a family that might just welcome him as a friend. He had told him no sulking. Fine. If Dean wanted to have a miserable time at the picnic, that was up to him. The chance to get shooting tips from a world champion archer wasn't something Bobby was about to pass up.

Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes when they arrived. Dean didn't want to be here. He had been excited to hear Bobby and Dean were coming, but he didn't really believe it until he actually saw them at the door. He watched his mom speak to Dean and Dean made it apparent he wanted nothing to do with any of it. Didn't even touch the beer.

His mom told him Dean was going to watch over him, escort him from class to class. He didn't tell his mother he and Dean had already made that arrangement, that Dean was doing it because he was…sponsoring…him. He wasn't about to tell his mother that. She had asked him a few times what happened with regards to Eric and he told her the same thing he had told her before. Girls. It had to do with girls. He told his father the same thing. His father was quite shocked when he came home to discover Sam beaten up and told Eric's friends had done it. He wasn't happy when Sam told him it couldn't be fixed between him and Eric, but finally seemed to accept it. Hearing that Dean was going to protect him didn't make him happy, but only because he hated the thought that Sam needed protection.

Sam hadn't gotten the scrapbook done yet because when he told his mom he was going to try to make Dean the portfolio she had offered to make for him she wanted to take the pictures of the restored cars herself. They drove all over town the area Friday and Saturday and still had some places to go that weren't near by. She was letting Sam make it, but offered him suggestions here and there to improve the composition of the portfolio. It was looking really cool and Sam was so proud of it. But Dean didn't seem to be in the mood to accept anything from any of them and so he didn't really want to show Dean what he was doing, afraid Dean would blow a gasket or tell him it was crap, that he didn't want it. Sam decided he would just leave it at Bobby's when he got done with it. He wouldn't tell Dean anything. He didn't want to see that Dean hated it. It would hurt too much. He was pouring his heart and soul into it and he didn't want that crushed. He could leave it for Dean and Dean could burn it or trash or whatever. Sam didn't want to know. He was going to finish it and then just be content that he had given Dean the present.

He sat with Dean silently, slowly nursing his beer, watching his mom and Bobby shoot. Bobby was pretty good and it was apparent he knew how to shoot. His mom helped Bobby with his stance, helped him with his technique, and then they really started having fun when they were doing shots on the run. She was absolutely excellent, as always, and made Sam proud. She was dead on with every single shot. Bobby did surprising well, even with the moving targets and shots on the run. He spilled a few curses now and again when he missed a difficult shot and his mom laughed and helped him until he got it right, hell, got it perfect. It was obvious she loved having such an adept student. Bobby seemed to be having the time of his life, the way he was grinning and laughing.

"Keiko, you're running Bobby to death! The chicken's done. Put your toys away and let's eat!" Jim called out, piling the chicken onto a plate.

Dean had half expected Bobby to force him to participate in their little shooting match, just like the older man had forced him to come here. But after simply giving Dean a dirty displeased look Bobby simply ignored him, the older man following Sam’s mom out to the little range that was set up and leaving him alone. Dean had a feeling he wasn’t going to be so lucky once they got home though. He’d be surprised if they didn’t immediately get into another shouting match as soon as they were alone in the car together, in fact.

Whatever.

If Bobby wanted to be pissed off at him, fine. It was Bobby’s fault for forcing him to come here. Dean didn’t want to be ‘social’. He wasn’t going to be their performing monkey either. He just wanted to be left alone.

Dean found a place to sit underneath a tree practically on the other side of the yard where he wouldn’t be in the way, and hopefully, he’d be left alone. He watched Bobby and Sam’s mom for a while before leaning his head back against the tree and looking up at the sky through the leaves.

He was glad that Bobby seemed to be having fun, at least. He really was. But despite the ‘peacefulness’ of the lazy suburban Sunday afternoon, Dean couldn’t relax. He’d always hated places like this. Houses with white picket fences, happy fucking families living the happy fucking American apple pie life…

He’d once had a happy fucking family too, he’d had a dad and a mom and a baby brother and a home… until it had all gone up in smoke, quite literally. It was a reminder of everything he’d lost. Everything he’d never had, and he hated it. Sure, the Colts seemed like a nice enough couple… so had some of the people he’d been fostered by. Until they got tired of him and passed him off to someone else, unable to handle his ‘rebelliousness’, that was the reason most of them gave, he was sure. He wondered how many of them simply couldn’t stand him waking them up screaming every night from the nightmares of his family burning alive…

Dean’s eyes snapped to the side when he heard a sound beside him and frowned a little when Sam settled down next to him. What the hell did he want? Dean waited for Sam to say something, but when the younger boy didn’t, Dean simply mentally shrugged. Leaning his head back again and all but ignoring Sam, figuring the younger boy would get bored soon enough or say whatever he wanted and leave. But Sam didn’t, he simply sat there, quietly, beside him. Something of a miracle in of itself with Sam’s blabber mouth.

When Sam’s father finally called them all to eat, Dean debated whether or not to just remain sitting here, but he’d probably pushed Bobby’s buttons about as far as he could. Anymore ‘rude’ behavior, and they were going to get into a shouting match right here, and while Dean might not care much about what Mr. and Mrs. Colt thought of him… besides, he was kind of hungry.

With a sigh Dean pushed himself to his feet, then looked down at Sam. The younger boy probably wasn’t healed up enough that he could get up on his own without discomfort, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Dean held out his hand to Sam to help him up.

Sam was surprised when Dean offered his hand, but took it gladly, using Dean as a brace to pull himself up. For the most part his knee was doing fine so his limp was gone, but it still hurt if he put to much stress on it and some of the bruises to his abdomen, they were deep and still tender.

As they headed to the picnic table Sam offered, "We can go play pool or shoot some darts in the basement after we eat if you want. Or…Mom or Dad would probably take Bobby home if you don't want to stay. I'm sorry he made you come when you didn't want to," Sam said. It was pretty obvious this was the last place Dean wanted to be right now. Sam didn't really understand why Dean didn't want to be there with them, then reminded himself what Dean had said Wednesday, before Sam had been beaten up. No more babbling. Stay out of his way and don't annoy him. The senior wasn't his friend, it was just…a business arrangement. When Sam healed up from being beat to hell, Dean got to make him his bitch and Sam would hopefully get through the days without getting the crap beaten out of him.

He wasn't Sam's friend.

Of course he didn't want to be here. He didn't want Sam's parents to know or even get an inkling of the arrangement they had. Yeah, Sam didn't really want them to know either. Next time he would tell Bobby that Dean didn't have to come if he didn't want to. Not to make him come. He looked pretty much beyond miserable. Hopefully the food would cheer Dean up some.

Sam settled at the table and began filling his plate with the chicken, potato salad, baked beans and coleslaw. His dad's chicken was always awesome and his mom made wicked baked beans. The potato salad everyone raved about, but he had never been a big potato salad fan. He took only a little, and that simply out of respect for his mom. He watched as Bobby loaded up his plate and began talking enthusiastically with his parents. At least Bobby was enjoying himself. Sam stayed quiet even after his mother passed him a strange look. Sam was never this quiet. Sam gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her everything was okay.

He really wished Dean was his friend. Maybe then he wouldn't hate hanging out with Sam and his family.

Sam’s offer to go to his basement to shoot pool or play darts made Dean frown in confusion. He wasn’t sure why the younger boy seemed to feel the need to keep him company or entertain him. Dean certainly wasn’t expecting Sam to and he didn’t think he’d given any indication he wanted Sam to. When the younger boy offered to ask one of his parents to bring Bobby home so that Dean could leave... yeah right, like that was going to happen. He could only imagine how Bobby might blow up at that suggestion. It wouldn’t be pretty, that much was certain. Dean shook his head, hoping that Sam wouldn’t bring it up.

Not that Dean thought Bobby was going to actually kick the shit out of him, or anything, despite how the older man sometimes threatened to when Dean had really pissed him off. Though no matter how much he’d ever pissed off Bobby, the older man had never laid a hand on him like that. Yeah, they’d fought. When Dean had first come to live with Bobby they’d shouted at each other sometimes till they were blue in the face. Usually when Bobby wanted him to do something that Dean didn’t want to do. But Bobby had never hit him. The older man might have cuffed him on the back of the head a few times when he thought Dean was being an idiot, and had given him a bruise or two when they were sparring for practice, but that certainly wasn’t the same. Bobby had never struck him in anger, and he knew Bobby never would.

Dean just didn’t like fighting with the older man. Plain and simple. Seeing the disappointment in Bobby’s eyes whenever the older man was upset with him was worse than any beating.

Yeah, he hadn’t wanted to come and he definitely didn’t want to stay. But he would. Maybe some pool wouldn’t be too bad... if only to pass the time.

He took a seat on the end of the picnic bench beside Sam, grabbing the plastic plate that had been set in front of him and loading some food onto it. He even finally opened up the beer that Sam had handed him earlier to wash everything down. The food was pretty good, he had to admit that, and at least shoveling food into his face he wouldn’t be expected to join in the conversation.

Bobby discreetly watched the boys as he chatted with the Colts. Keiko told him she also did the cross bow, but said she would only do that on a proper archery range, just as she'd only shoot a compound bow on the range. They were just too powerful in the suburban setting and the time the crossbow bolt had gone through one of her targets and into the area beyond was the last time she shot it in her back yard. Though even her regular bows had enough of a poundage on the pull that they could be dangerous, they didn't have the power the others did. Bobby was surprised to learn that she throw knives too. He was really surprised that she didn't shoot a gun though. She didn't like them she said. Made too much noise. Bobby laughed when she said she refused to go bowhunting. Said it wasn't fair to the deer that they didn't have a chance against her, and he believed it.

Jim had an interest in old cars, so Bobby and he began talking up the merits of various classic cars and Bobby told him of some of the cars that had passed through his salvage yard and some of the cars Dean had rebuilt over the past couple years. Dean made it a point to be too busy eating to join in the conversation which frustrated Bobby. They were talking things that the boy ought to be eating up. Weapons and old cars. The two things Dean was most interested in. But Dean continued to be anti-social and Bobby just didn't get it. Dean was inexplicably protective of the son, but wanted nothing to do with the parents.

Bobby supposed he couldn't really blame the boy. Trust was not his strong suit. Sam seemed to be just as quiet and he could tell, based on his parents covert glances that it wasn't normal for the boy and he had no doubt it was because of Dean. He didn't really get the why of that either but what could he do? He watched as the parents tried to bring Sam into the conversation and Dean as well, but both boys were stoic. He suspected if Dean weren't with them Sam would be much more animated. That bothered him. What had Dean said to the younger boy to make him so quiet? He could also see a sadness in Sam. Well, who could blame the kid, having to face going back to that school the next day?

He had talked with the principal and Dean would be permitted to leave his classes five minutes early and arrive five minutes late in order to see Sam was protected. The principal didn't want a repeat of what had happened to Sam. Reluctantly the principal had told Bobby about the situation of 'sponsoring' younger boys and thought that that was probably what had happened between Lancaster and Colt. And Lancaster didn't like not getting what he wanted. With the history between Dean and Eric he warned Bobby it would probably get nasty and that if it did, Bobby needed to immediately alert him so he could try to keep it from escalating. Though Bobby could tell the principal had taken some satisfaction over the news Eric's car had all but been beaten into a pile of expensive scrap.

Bobby couldn't help but wonder if Dean was sponsoring Sam and wasn't sure if he should bring it up. He hadn't seen Dean watching the boy, not that way, but it didn't mean Dean wasn't interested. As with anything else, Dean kept everything hidden from the world. Still, he would ask. He wasn't quite certain how he felt about that. Maybe he should ask Sam. Still, how did you ask a sixteen year old boy if he was having sex with his foster son. Awkward. Definitely awkward. What would he say if the answer was yes? If it was consensual…but was it? Dean would never force himself on anyone, Bobby knew that without any doubt, so what did it really matter? If the boys found comfort in each other, then, well, maybe it wasn't a bad thing. He wondered if Dean would be surprised by Bobby's attitude. Bobby had stayed out of Dean's sex life. Just told him to be careful, that one Dean was enough to handle right now and that he didn't want to see any little Dean's running around, at least not until the boy was out of school. If Sam and Dean were a couple, at least he didn't have to worry about that. Based upon what Keiko told him, he suspected they had no idea Dean and Sam might have more of a relationship that just Dean protecting him. Maybe he was jumping the gun. Hell, as far as he could tell, Dean and Sam had just met this past week. All he could do was watch.

As soon as the boys were done eating, Sam announced they were going downstairs to play pool. Bobby hoped that's all the boys were planning on doing. He watched as Sam and Dean headed into the house.

"You son's quiet," Jim observed.

"He don't socialize well. He had a pretty rough life until he came to me. He's an orphan, passed around from family to family until he finally ran away and ended up hiding out in my junk yard. He needed someone to trust. Unfortunately that boy hasn't learned to trust anyone else and I'm at my wits end. I was hoping he might enjoy himself, doing something normal like a picnic."

"He might find it too much of what he's never had," Keiko suggested. "Maybe something he's always wanted but couldn't have and now he doesn't know how to deal with it, so he's just shut down. Sam's sensitive to things like that. That's probably why Sam's being so quiet, trying to give Dean something to hold on to, something that isn't forcing Dean to be part of something he's afraid to be part of," Keiko suggested. "Just give him some time. Sam had a rough time when we first adopted him, even though he was just a baby. He had a lot of nightmares a baby shouldn't have. He still has night terrors sometimes. Wakes up screaming but has no memory of what the dream was about. All he can remember are…essences. Heat. Blood. Orange. Black. Screams. Tears. Takes him a while to calm down, and he usually stays awake the rest of the night. I've been surprised with everything going on that he hasn't had any. So want to shoot some more before we settle down for dessert?"

"You got him before dinner," Jim said. "My turn. If you want to look at my old Mustang and talk cars."

Bobby chuckled. "Let's do cars. Then after dessert maybe some more bow."

"He's just doing that because it'll make me do the clean up you know," Keiko accused.

You could always call the boys backup to do it," Bobby said.

Keiko gave a small smile and shake of her head. "No, I think Dean needs some time out of the picnic and parent zone."

Dean had polished off two good sized helpings of the meal by the time Sam announced that he was done and they were going inside. Dean certainly was not about to protest. He was more than ready to get away from the table and the covert glances that Sam’s parents and Bobby kept throwing their way. Even though the food had been good, he had to give them that.

He followed Sam into the house, snagging two more beers from the cooler as they passed. He felt himself beginning to relax almost as soon as they reached the cool basement. Dean didn’t even realize just how tense he was until his muscles started unknotting themselves.

With a small sigh, Dean leaned up against the edge of the pool table and held out one of the beers he’d snagged for Sam. He supposed it was sort of a peace offering.

Dean wondered if Sam was angry at him for not wanting to talk to his parents. Sam didn’t seem angry, at least. But it was hard to be sure. Sam hadn’t said much… well, that was his fault too, he supposed. Dean felt a little bad about that, now. Sam could babble on forever… but Dean honestly wasn’t sure if he preferred the silence to that now though.

Dean looked Sam up and down. He really was glad that the younger boy seemed to be doing so much better. He had been… worried… the last time he had seen Sam.

“How are your ribs doing?” Dean finally asked, taking a long pull of his own beer. A great conversation starter, he was not. At least, not like this. He could hustle, lie, cheat, and flirt with the best of them. Those skills had certainly helped him survive on his own, and even helped him on a hunt. But just talking? Yeah, not his thing.

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was up for pool or not, but since they had played it the other night, he figured it was a safe bet. He was glad Dean followed him instead of just staying at the table or going back to the tree so he didn't look like an idiot. When they got downstairs Sam glanced over at the stereo. He'd put some more of his father's rock tunes in for Dean. When he looked back he saw Dean was holding out a beer for him. He accepted it with a nod of thanks and opened it. Dean looked a bit thoughtful, then Sam saw him look him over, head to toe. He wondered if Dean liked what he saw. He supposed Dean did or he wouldn't be sponsoring him. The swelling in his face had gone down considerably and the bruises that lingered weren't very sore at this point. When Dean asked about his ribs, Sam shrugged, wondering if Dean was trying to figure out if Sam was up to making out.

"Still sore, but they're okay so long as nothing hits them too hard."

Was he supposed to make the first move? Eric had been the one to make the move on him and that was weeks into it, when he had apparently decided he had 'courted' Sam long enough. Still Eric knew Sam didn't have a clue. Dean knew he did. Maybe he would want a down payment, make sure Sam was going to pony up and not bail on him like he had bailed on Eric.

Sam walked over to the stereo and started up the music. "There's the dart board," Sam said waving to it on the far wall, "or we can play pool…or whatever you, you know, might want." He walked back to the pool table. "We've probably got about an hour before mom calls us to tell us it's time for dessert." Sam took a drink from his beer. It wouldn't be that bad, he told himself. Unlike Eric, Randall said Dean had never sponsored anyone before. Randall also said Dean was dangerous. After seeing what Dean had done to Eric's car, he could certainly understand where those rumors came from, coupled with the fact he had put the beat down on Eric and put two of Eric's cohorts in the hospital. He studied Dean and couldn't help but look at his lips. Those lips would end up kissing him at some point, maybe tonight. That was a weird thought. At least they weren't in a car and at least Sam knew it was going to happen. He wasn't being blind-sided by it this time. Maybe it was better that Dean wasn't his friend. He wouldn't feel betrayed like he had with Eric. Of course by the same token that meant Sam was whoring himself out in payment for Dean's protection. It was kind of ironic actually. Because Eric made the move on him, he ended up meeting Dean. Because Eric's boys were going to jump him on the way to the bus stop, Dean stopped and 'rescued' him. Because Eric was at the house, Dean had followed him in and Sam had declared he and Dean were together. Because of Eric's goon's beating him up in the bathroom, he had learned what sponsoring was and asked Dean to sponsor him, even if he was being sarcastic. But he had been the one to call Dean and asked Bobby to ask Dean to pick him up. He realized in retrospect when Dean asked him if Sam wanted him to walk with him between classes, that Dean was offering to sponsor him. Naïve Sam, he had gushed about how awesome that would be.

Sam waited and watched Dean, taking a long drink of liquid courage.

Dean nodded at the younger boy’s reply, watching Sam intently as he moved around the room and a small smile played on his lips when the other boy turned on the stereo. Somehow he had the feeling the music selection Sam had made was entirely for his benefit. Though Sam had never actually complained about the choice of music whenever he rode in his car, the younger boy didn’t seem all that into his classic rock either. He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel that Sam had made this music choice just for him.

“They won’t bother you again. Made sure of it.” Dean told the younger boy, figuring Sam would be pleased to know that he didn’t have to worry about those boys that had jumped him that afternoon. Dean wasn’t dumb, and he knew Sam wasn’t either. Just because Dean had managed to take care of those little snots, didn’t mean that others wouldn’t keep trying. Especially not without Eric egging them on, but it was a start.

He glanced over at the dart board on the wall that Sam indicated. He wondered if Sam was as good at darts as he was at pool. If he was, that could be an interesting way to spend the time. Though when Sam ended his suggestions of things that they might do with ‘whatever else he might want’ Dean turned his attention back to Sam with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Seeing the way Sam was looking at him… yeah, he looked a little nervous but not necessarily in a bad way. The way the younger boy’s eyes darted down to his lips made another, softer, smile pull at them. Was Dean interested? Hell yes. Especially after the week he’d had, he could definitely go for a little different type of recreational activity. If Sam was up for it…

Watching Sam drink from the beer bottle, watching the way the younger boy’s lips wrapped around the lip and the way his throat moved when he swallowed pretty much made the decision for him. Dean took one last long pull from his own bottle before licking his lips and setting it down on the edge of the pool table.

“Come ‘ere.” He said softly.

Sam had a momentary hope that Dean was going to go for darts. He always enjoyed darts. It was really a toss up if he like pool or darts more. When Dean's eyes changed with Sam's offer of whatever, he figured the decision was made. He was suddenly self-conscious of drinking his beer and swallowed hard.

At least he was here, in his house. If he couldn't deal, he could bail. Not like Dean was going to chase him down, not with his parents upstairs. A loud enough yell and his parents could probably hear him, so he felt a little bit more secure in that knowledge that he wasn't at Dean's mercy, not like he'd been with Eric. He had some control here. And if Dean took him up on his 'suggestion,' they would both know if Sam was going to be able to go through with this. Better to know now. Dean had a temper and if Dean had been protecting him and then Sam couldn't do what Dean wanted, and they were at Dean's…no, Sam didn't like the possibilities of that. Yeah, here and now was definitely better. When Dean licked his lips and set the beer aside, the words were hardly out of Dean's mouth before Sam walked toward him and set his own beer on the table. He'd kissed girls before. Maybe he could just shut his eyes and imagine Dean was Stacy or Amanda. He stood in front of Dean and looked up at him. There was a kindness in Dean's eyes that he didn't expect. Those green eyes didn't hold that hard predatory gleam that had been in Eric's. Sam had a feeling if he said 'no' that Dean would not flip out. He was also pretty damned sure in that instant that Dean would never hit him, not like Eric had, not ever, no matter what.

Licking his lips, Sam ran the tips of his fingers slowly over the black concert t-shirt Dean wore. Solid muscle. Inadvertently his fingers ran over Dean's nipple and his breath caught. He looked up at Dean, unsure if that was okay or too bold. Dean didn't seem to mind so Sam brought his touch back to that nipple and rubbed it through the t-shirt, circling around it and pinching it lightly. He kind of liked Dean's response to that and that just seemed fucked up. Maybe it was because it was the first time he felt like he had a little power over the older stronger boy. He did it again, circling with his fingers and this time pinched a little harder. Yeah, he definitley liked the response but standing here playing with Dean's nipple wasn't going to satisfy what Dean wanted from him. He continued to rub Dean's nipple with one hand while this other he looped around Dean's neck and tilted his head back a little as he parted his lips, waiting for Dean to kiss him. He almost giggled. He'd never gotten to play with Amanda or Stacy's nipples.

Despite the slight nervousness Dean could still see flickering in the younger boy’s eyes Sam didn’t hesitate at all approaching him when Dean beckoned. If the younger boy had hesitated, at all, Dean probably would have reconsidered doing this here and now. They certainly hadn’t… talked… about this and the last thing he wanted was to push Sam into something he didn’t want. If Sam wasn’t ready… but the way the younger boy boldly stood between his legs and ran his fingers up the length of Dean’s chest, Sam certainly seemed ready. So Dean simply chalked up any lingering nervousness he saw on Sam’s part to general first time nerves. Sam had said he was a virgin, after all…

Dean’s breath hitched a little when the younger boy’s fingers brushed across his nipple, sending a small shiver of pleasure through him even through the cotton t-shirt he was wearing. Dean smiled at the younger boy but didn’t do anything else to encourage or dissuade Sam’s touch, letting him explore him however he wanted. Though he didn’t bother to contain his small sounds of pleasure Sam pulled from him, the fingers toying with his nipple making heat pool in his groin and his cock twitch with every rub or gentle pinch.

When Sam finally looped his arm around his neck, leaning into him a little, Dean finally moved. Letting one of his hands come to rest on Sam’s hip, tugging the younger boy flush to his body. His other hand moving up the length of the younger boy’s back, mindful of any bruises remaining he kept his touch light and gentle as he cupped the back of Sam’s neck.

Dean pressed his lips to the younger boy’s so softly at first it was barely a touch at all, their mingling breath more of a caress. Every brush of his mouth against Sam’s he let the pressure increase just a little more until he finally swiped his tongue softly over Sam’s lower lip. Licking between the seam of the younger boy’s lips then tugging gently on Sam’s lower lip with his teeth. Sucking on it softly.

When Dean pulled him closer, he didn't resist. He could feel the heat of Dean's body everywhere, feel the pressure of their muscles touching one another. Dean's hand was gentle as it brushed up his back and he could tell Dean was being careful of the bruises that were still sprinkling his back side. His hand went to the back of Sam's neck and Sam braced himself for the firm grip and the crush of their lips. But that didn't happen. Dean's touch remained gentle and Sam felt a little of his tension drain away. He could still pull back if he wanted.

The soft touch of Dean's lips surprised him. As Dean pressed a little harder, Sam found himself kissing Dean back. They were such sweet gentle kisses and not at all what Sam expected from the bad-ass senior. He felt Dean's tongue and expected, almost anticipated, the invasion of his mouth by the other's tongue. Instead Dean surprised him again. He had never expected someone sucking on his lower lip to turn him on, but his cock was certainly beginning to grow harder. This close against Dean he could tell Dean's cock was likewise growing interested. Sam slid his hand that had been playing with Dean's nipple around to Dean's back, slowly rubbing up and down it.

Hearing a soft moan, Sam was startled to realize it had come from him. He ran his hand down Dean's back and slipped it and under Dean's t-shirt. His fingers slid up the muscles. Jesus, the older youth was nothing but muscle everywhere. And that kind of turned him on too. He felt a few scars across Dean's back and traced over them lightly, investigating them as he investigated the rippling muscles, the furrows between them, and then ran his hand slowly down Dean's spine, letting his hand slip under the young man's waistband to the top of his crack, before running his hand back up Dean's spine. Running the tip of his tongue over Dean's lip, it was almost an invitation. He let his hand drift along Dean's ribs, his fingers finding their way back to Dean's nipple, but this time there was no cloth between his fingers and that nub. When he touched Dean's nipples he felt a small little rush of blood go to his groin.

When Dean felt some of the nervous tension drain out of the younger boy, Dean smiled a little against Sam’s lips. His fingers beginning a gentle massage against the back of Sam’s neck, petting slightly through the younger boy’s soft hair to encourage Sam to relax further against him.

Sam’s lips moving softly against his own, kissing him in return, was all the encouragement that Dean needed to take things a step further. When Sam’s hand slipped around his back, Dean let his other hand move from the younger boy’s hip to his ass to gently pull him even closer. Pressing their chests and groins together. Though he was careful not to hold onto Sam too tightly, the last thing he wanted was to cause the younger boy any discomfort.

He sighed softly against Sam’s mouth when the younger boy began moving his hand along his back. Any remaining tension he’d felt coming here melting away underneath the younger boy’s surprisingly sure fingers as they explored him.

Hearing Sam’s soft moan of pleasure and feeling Sam’s fingers drift beneath the waistband of his jeans he gently squeezed the younger boy’s ass. Sam’s tongue swiping over his lips had him smiling and Dean followed that teasing tongue back into the younger boy’s mouth. Slipping his tongue between the younger boy’s lips, he carefully explored the slick wet heat beyond. Letting his tongue twine and stroke Sam’s in the younger boy’s mouth.

Sam’s touch returning to his nipples, this time without the barrier of fabric between them, had him groaning into the younger boy’s mouth. His hips pushing forward a little, the pressure against his hardening flesh trapped in his jeans a sweet torture.

Dean's hand squeezing his ass kind of surprised him, but more so when He was tugged so gently closer still to the senior. If Eric had treated him so gingerly, had approached him and given him a choice, things would probably have turned out very differently. He didn't necessarily feel like he had a choice with Dean, this was payment for protection, but yet, he did feel like he had a choice. He had really almost expected Dean to ravage his mouth like Eric had, to hit him if he resisted, to end up bent over the pool table, Dean's hand gripping his hair as he shoved his way in. If it were Eric whose arms he was in, he knew that was the way it would be going down. He did not expect the care that Dean was treating him with. Like Sam actually meant something to him other than a whore to have sex with. He knew the latter was really the truth, but he wanted to pretend it was the former.

The way Dean's tongue explored his mouth, it was different from Amanda and even Stacy who was frankly pretty damned aggressive. He had almost ended up with his first blow job from her, but her parents came home and put an abrupt stop to that. Dean's tongue in his mouth wasn't so bad. Dean was slow, investigating almost tentatively, as if making sure Sam wasn't going to freak on him.

It was freaky, standing in his basement, his parent just upstairs while he was making out with a guy. It was kind of thrilling, after all how much more bold could he get? When Dean groaned into his mouth and thrust his groin into Sam's, Sam definitely felt a spike of arousal and couldn't help rubbing against Dean as his cock demanded more pressure. He tightened his arm around Dean's neck and intensified the kiss. Damn was he getting hot over this and groaned back into Dean's mouth. His hand went from Dean's nipple to his ass, returning the squeezing.

Dean was an amazing kisser, Sam decided. He didn't have a whole lot of experience to judge it by of course, but he liked it. He blushed a little when he realized he wanted more, though he was probably thinking a whole lot more with his downstairs brain than his upstairs one at this point. He wasn't quite sure what 'more' he wanted though.

If it were Amanda, what would he want? He would want her shirt off. He would want to kiss her chest and latch on to her nipple and play with it with his fingers and his mouth. He had wanted to do that a couple times, but hell, he had wanted to touch her boobs and see her tits never gotten to. He'd never gotten off on seeing a guy's chest but he was getting hard enough his cock being inside his pants was beginning to hurt, feeling all bound up inside. If he was hurting, Dean probably was to. He wondered how big Dean was. Sam wasn't exactly small, he knew that. But Dean felt big underneath his jeans. He really wasn't sure what to do, how far he wanted this to go. Ultimately he knew where it would go one day, but not today, surely. Right?

Okay, so nipples or pants? If he started sucking on Dean's chest—did guys even really like that?—Dean would expect him to work his way lower if he undid both of their jeans. Well, he could get Dean to take off his shirt, work on his nipples and maybe jerk Dean off. The thought of giving Dean a blow job just didn't sound appetizing, though his own dick was complaining and thinking that might be a really good thing.

Honestly, Dean hadn’t expected this to go much further than a bit of making out and maybe some heavy petting but Sam was surprising him. The younger boy was a pretty good kisser and it was pretty obvious Sam had done at least this much before even if he hadn’t gone all the way. Which was perfectly fine with Dean, since it meant he didn’t have to worry so much about accidentally spooking Sam like some girls did when you <gasp> put your tongue in their mouth.

Dean almost chuckled at that mental image, but he was too busy groaning again in pleasure and maybe a little discomfort when Sam started rubbing against him. The feel of Sam’s hard arousal rubbing against his own, the rough fabric of their jeans chafing a little, was sending even more heat running straight southward. If he hadn’t been uncomfortably hard in his jeans already, he definitely was now at full mast, so to speak.

Sam definitely wasn’t acting like the blushing virgin he’d been expecting. The younger boy seemed quite comfortable touching him, humping against him, squeezing his ass, hell, playing with his nipples. So damned eager… which, again, was perfectly fine with Dean since his dick was telling him it wasn’t going to be satisfied with just some kissing and petting anymore.

After a few more minutes of kissing, letting his hands wander up and down Sam’s body, Dean chuckled softly and reluctantly pulled back to allow them both a much needed breath considering the way they were both panting a little. Though when Dean looked down at the younger boy’s flushed face and kiss swollen lips he felt his breath catch in his throat. God, Sam looked so… beautiful, was the first word that came to his mind but it was so damned cheesy Dean stomped that thought out right way. Hot… that was better… Dean licked his lips, still able to taste Sam on them and had to bite back another groan.

“I can practically hear you thinking.” Dean teased, smiling at Sam as he cupped the younger boy’s cheek and ran his thumb over those reddened lips. Damn, he was going to have to tone it back down a little or everyone upstairs was going to know exactly what they’d been doing down here and somehow Dean didn’t think Sam’s parents were going to take that very well. “Do you want to stop now? Or…”

Dean decided to leave the ‘or’ up to Sam.

Sam was still trying to decide how to ask Dean to take off his shirt but Dean kept distracting him. The way Dean's hands ran up and down his back, squeezed his ass, and the kissing. Yeah, there was no doubt, Dean was a really good kisser because every time Sam tried to think about moving his hand to encourage the youth to take his shirt off Dean did something new with his tongue. A part of him kind of forgot it was a guy he was kissing. He wasn't sure how since he felt Dean's very firm erection pressing up against his own, and if it was a girl he was kissing she was as flat-chested as a gymnast. But the kissing was just…okay, he definitely wouldn't mind kissing Dean in the future. Last Sunday if someone told him he'd be kissing a guy and liking it, he would have told them they were nuts and should check themselves into the nuthouse.

He didn't want to stop kissing Dean, but Dean broke it off with a chuckle. God, was he that bad of a kisser? He was definitely panting trying to catch his breath and so was Dean. For as long as Dean had been kissing him, he couldn't be that horrible, right? He wondered what was next. After Eric had kissed him, he had wanted Sam to give him a blow job. He really didn't want to do that. He wasn't ready to do that. Hopefully he could convince Dean to accept a hand job. He'd only ever jacked himself off of course, but how hard could it be?

Sam felt a little blush color his cheeks at the way Dean was looking at him. Apparently the chuckle hadn't been because he was a bad kisser. He blushed a little brighter at Dean's tease. Hell yes he was thinking, trying to figure out how best to make Dean happy with him next. He stayed still as Dean touched his face and his lips. Yeah, he was staring at his lips. Well crap. Dean was going to ask him to blow him. First thing I’m going to teach you is how to put that pretty mouth of yours to much better use. Knew you were a cock whore the second I laid eyes on you. Eric's words echoed in his mind and he felt a little sick.

He stared at the senior with outright shock when Dean offered that they could stop. He didn't want…? He felt relief swell in him. Dean was nothing like Eric. Nothing at all. He wanted to practically throw his arms around Dean and kiss him just for making that offer. It was like all the weight and worry was lifted from him, at least for the moment. They could stop. All Sam had to say was 'no.' But Dean was definitely hard as hell. So was Sam for that matter. They were both going to end up with blue balls if they didn't handle the problem and blue balls sucked. There were two bathrooms, but he'd feel funny using his parents to jack off in, and he wasn't about to send Dean into theirs.

"I…uh…I don't know. What else…what else did you have in mind? I've never…you know…made out with a guy before." He was sure his blush deepened which only made him want to blush more, being embarrassed because he was embarrassed.

Dean was really fucking glad that Sam didn’t tell him to stop. He would have. If the younger boy didn’t want to take this any further, Dean would have put a stop to it right then and there, no matter how much his dick might have screamed at him. Ok, so he might have still had to go into the bathroom to jerk off before he could face the parents units still upstairs. Just for the sake of decency. But he certainly wouldn’t have forced Sam to finish him off if the younger boy didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure that Sam knew that.

So the shock in Sam’s eyes followed immediately by the intense relief made Dean very glad that he’d made the offer. No matter how much discomfort he might have been in if Sam actually took him up on the opportunity to bail out.

The blush that stained the younger boy’s cheeks, practically to the tips of his ears, when Sam asked him what he wanted to do had Dean groaning softly in spite of himself. Fuck, Sam had absolutely no idea how adorable and enticing he looked right now at the same time. A combination Dean simply couldn’t resist as he found himself guiding Sam’s mouth back to his, kissing the younger boy slowly, as though to savor those sweet blushing lips.

“I can think of some things…” He whispered against Sam’s mouth before reaching down to grasp Sam’s thighs beneath his buttocks, straightening, and lifting the younger boy in one smooth motion. He turned, depositing Sam on the edge of the pool table, and pushed himself between the younger boy’s legs. In this position, Sam was actually a little bit taller than him and he had to lean up to continue their kiss.

“Lean back.” Dean finally said when he finally broke their kiss. One hand on Sam’s back, the other cupping the younger boy’s neck, Dean pushed forward. Nuzzling against the younger boy’s neck as he followed Sam down, guiding the younger boy backwards. He nipped and licked all the way to the other boy’s shirt collar.

Kissing. He could definitely handle more kissing. Especially the way Dean kissed. Even with the words that spilled from Dean's lips he wasn't prepared when the muscular youth picked him up and if his mouth wasn't pressed against Dean's he would have yelped in surprise. His yelp turned into more of a muffled questioning sound. Sam was no lightweight and he marveled at the senior's strength. No wonder he could pound people into the ground. He wondered suddenly what Dean had done to the guys that had pounded on him. Something nice and painful he hoped.

Dean turned and Sam felt the hard surface of the pool table underneath him, his nervousness returning full force. The loss of pressure against his cock didn't help his discomfort.

He decided it was kind of cool that Dean had to lean up to kiss him. Dean was between his legs and he wondered if…did guys do it from the front? Is that what Dean had in mind? Did Dean plan on…butt fucking him? The senior was protecting him, he reminded himself. He stayed in one piece and Dean got to do whatever he wanted with Sam's body. And Dean wasn't like Eric so he knew Dean would at least show care with him. And if Dean wanted to …butt fuck him, okay, he'd try. He would honestly rather be fucked than give a blow job. He just couldn't…sucking on a guy's dick…it just couldn't possibly be pleasant. For the guy, sure, but for the one doing the work? And then if you didn't pull off in time you'd get a mouth full of semen? Ugh. No, butt-fucking was far more preferable. Well, he hoped it was anyhow.

He let Dean lay him back, surprised at how good it felt to have Dean's lips on his throat, to feel the little bites and licks. He hoped Dean didn't leave any marks though. That would be more than a little awkward to explain to his parents.

"No hickeys, at least not where my mom or dad can see them, okay?" Sam asked. He really didn't figure Dean would, because Dean surely wouldn't want to be found out either.

“No hickeys.” Dean agreed with a small chuckle. Giving Sam’s neck one last gentle nip as he pulled back to look down at the younger boy spread out beneath him.

His cock throbbing a little trapped inside his jeans as he imagined all the things he could do to Sam… all the things he wanted to do… but of course, he wouldn’t. Not today at least. Even if they had the time to do everything that Dean might want and there wasn’t a danger of someone coming down to check on them any minute, he didn’t want to overwhelm the younger boy. He wanted to take this slow. Sam deserved that.

That slight nervousness was back in Sam’s eyes, but the other boy didn’t tell him to stop. The trust in Sam’s eyes was almost humbling, and Dean gave the younger boy another reassuring smile as he let his hands settle on Sam’s hips and slowly move up. Slipping underneath the younger boy’s shirt and pushing it up as he went, caressing Sam’s stomach up to his chest. Dean dipped his head down to kiss along the strip of flesh on Sam’s abdomen, being careful of any lingering bruises and working his way up as more skin was revealed.

He rubbed his cheek against the soft part of Sam’s belly then traced the fluttering muscles of Sam’s stomach with his tongue, dipping and swirling into his belly button. When his fingers reached the younger boy’s nipples he started playing with them as Sam had played with his, circling and pinching lightly. He lightly nipped and licked along the younger boy’s ribs, looking up at Sam through his eyelashes, wondering if the younger boy was ticklish.

Working his way up Sam’s sternum he let his lips latch onto one of the younger boy’s nipples while his fingers continued to play with the other. His tongue tracing around the already hard nub, his teeth grazing teasingly, before he began sucking.

Sam felt self conscious lying on the table, his erection obvious in his jeans. He could see the desire in the young man's eyes and he was both a little bit thrilled that he did that to Dean, and a little bit nervous. He trusted that Dean wouldn't hurt him. That was all that mattered. Whatever Dean wanted from him, he wouldn't hurt him to get it.

He really wanted to undo his pants though, because his erection was painful trapped like it was.

The smile Dean gave him eased his jitters. He jumped a little as Dean's callused hands slid under his shirt and he felt those fingers against his bare skin for the first time. His breath hitched at feeling Dean's kiss to his stomach. It felt pretty good really, and when Dean started playing around his belly button, it was a turn on, the way his wet tongue flicked in and out, almost like a promise of things to come.

When Dean began playing with his nipples Sam was not at all prepared for the sensations it shot through him and he groaned and shivered with each pinch and twist. Dean sucking at his nipple had him arching up against him. He hadn't thought he could get any fucking harder. He was wrong. He clutched Dean to him and wrapped his legs around Dean, giving him leverage to press his cock into the steel abs of the senior. Shit he was going to come in his pants with much more of this.

Sam's reactions were everything he had hoped for and more. He loved the way the younger boy clutched at him and the feel of Sam's hard cock rubbing against his stomach a turn on in of itself. The sweet moans and groans spilling from Sam's lips as he licked at the sensitive nubs on his chest was making Dean even harder, but he ignored his own arousal for the moment. Right now he was enjoying the way the younger boy was writhing beneath him in need too much.

As Dean's mouth switched from one of the younger boy's nipples to the other, he slid his hands back down Sam's body possessively. His fingers finding their way to the button of the younger boy's straining jeans and undoing it quickly. Sam's erection was straining against the zipper as Dean eased it down and slipped his hand down the front of the younger boy's jeans.

He wrapped his hand around Sam's shaft and pushed himself up on one arm to look down at Sam as he began to stroke the younger boy's hard cock. Damn, Sam was so hard he was already leaking. Dean let his fingers curl around the head of Sam's dick on one upstroke, gathering some of the dripping precome to slick his fingers, and giving the younger boy a slicker channel to thrust through as he began to slowly jack him off.

"Oh yeah… that's it, come on…" Dean whispered, encouraging, licking his lips as he watched Sam come undone.

When Dean moved to his other nipple Sam was practically coming off the table, his head thrown back as he moaned. He was pretty much beyond thought. All he could feel was the pleasure washing through him as that hot wet mouth sucked at his nipple. Dean's touch became fire as his hands slid down him, leaving scorching hot skin and desire it their wake. He felt Dean's hand at the button to his jeans but he was too far gone to be embarrassed by the thought of a guy getting in his pants. He needed his jeans open so fucking bad at this point. When his cock was finally released from the confines of his jeans it was he could do to keep from groaning loudly in relief.

Dean's fingers wrapping around his shaft felt so good, and unbelievably better as Dean began to stroke him. The touch on his sensitive head, the slight pressure on his tip as Dean wiped away the precome, it was almost torturous. The slick come coated his shaft as Dean spread Sam's own seed along it.

The slow strokes were agony. Tightening his legs around Dean he began to fuck up into that hand, moaning with every push up. He hips began to snap up and he thrust faster and harder until he felt his balls draw up. He locked his jaw closed so he wouldn't shout. He arched up and his seed spilled forth in a white fountain. Once it was released he began thrusting again until a second spurt followed the first. He was covered in a sheen of sweat as he continued to thrust, but finally slowing down, his breath coming in short rapid pants.

Dean's eyes drank in the sight of the younger boy thrusting wantonly into his grip as he came and had to bite his own lip to keep from groaning loudly at the sight. Fucking hot didn't even begin to cover it as he watched Sam come, the hot spunk coating the younger boy's stomach. Feeling it dripping down the younger boy's pulsing shaft and fingers as he continued to stroke Sam through his orgasm.

He quickly undid his own jeans with his other hand, groaning in relief as he freed himself and began to stroke himself hard and fast. It didn't take long before he was coming as well, spilling into his own fist and along Sam's sweat slicked skin.

Gradually he slowed the movement of his hand along the younger boy's flesh, bringing Sam down slowly. The touch somehow more… intimate… now as he traced his fingers lightly up and down the younger boy's softening dick, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through them both.

Dean leaned down, his mouth covering Sam's with a low moan as he kissed the younger boy slowly.

Distantly he heard the sound of Dean undoing his own zipper. Was this where Dean found his hole and pushed in? His pants would have to come off but the way pleasure rippled through him, he didn't think he'd care, maybe not even notice if the senior shoved his dick up his ass. He decided having someone else jerk him off was a whole lot better than when he did it himself, even if it was a guy doing it. Dean's soft moans and grunts told him Dean was doing himself and he felt kind of guilty. Wasn't he the one that was supposed to be doing Dean? His body was still thrumming with pleasure when he heard the long soft groan and felt hot liquid spill across him. He moaned softly in response as the feel of Dean's spunk falling across him sent fresh shivers through him. What the hell? He was getting off on another guy coming on him? He couldn't deny it though. He had gotten Dean aroused enough that Dean had to jack himself off and that was another thrill. He'd never had anyone get that hot over him. Sure he wasn't experienced but…damn, that was cool as hell.

The feel of Dean's hand still wrapped around his softening shaft was…romantic? Oh Jesus, how lame was that? Whatever it was, Sam liked it, even though he knew he shouldn't. Hell, he was straight…wasn't he?

When Dean leaned over to kiss him, Sam decided he didn't care if he was straight or gay, not at this moment. He matched Dean's moan and reached down and pulled Dean's t-shirt up as high as he could. He arched up then, pressing himself against Dean, wanting Dean to feel that liquid cooling on his abdomen, flesh against flesh as he intensified the kiss. That felt so fucking great, sliding skin against sweat and come slickened skin.

He had never thought about there being layers of virginity. Either you had or you hadn't, right? He had never had the opportunity to slide his cock into the hot waiting velvet of a woman and thus lose his virginity. But getting jacked off, having his nipples sucked, turning on a guy enough to have them come on him, for him, because of him…that just had to meet the criteria on some level. He was only part virgin now. He couldn't help but laugh into Dean's mouth as Dean kissed him. Dean pulled back giving him a strange look.

"Brain. Thinking too much," Sam said with a grin. "I, uh, I kinda don't feel like a virgin anymore." He couldn't stop the sudden blush that crawled up his face to color his cheeks.

The feel of Sam’s hands tugging up the bottom of his shirt surprised him a little, but not as much as when he felt the younger boy arch beneath him. Rubbing his come slicked skin against his own and Dean couldn’t help but groan deeply as he licked his way into the younger boy’s mouth. Fuck, that was just so damned dirty and hot. Sam was just full of surprises, it seemed, and all of them good ones in Dean’s opinion.

When the younger boy began to laugh unexpectedly however, Dean reluctantly pulled back from their kiss an arched an eyebrow at Sam. Usually when he made someone come their brains out, laughter wasn’t the reaction he expected.

Sam’s explanation had Dean grinning as well and chuckling warmly.

“Glad I could help with that.” He replied, and then had to bite back a small moan that tried to escape watching the blush that stained the younger boy’s already flushed skin.

“Christ, Sammy…” Dean whispered as he leaned in to taste those sweet blushing lips again. He let his thumb tease over the sensitive slit at the tip of the younger boy’s dick as he pressed and rubbed his own softening cock against Sam’s stomach. Just wanting Sam to feel him.

“Keep doing that, and I might just have to help you lose it some more…” The older boy ‘warned’ as kissed his way down Sam’s neck, skipping over the bunched material of the younger boy’s shirt as he worked his way lower. Dean looked up at Sam, making sure the younger boy was watching him, as he dragged his tongue up the length of the other boy’s stomach from his navel to his nipple. Through the cooling mess on the younger boy’s skin with a pleased moan.

“Now that’s what I call desert.” Dean whispered, kissing Sam’s sensitive nipple one last time and giving the younger boy’s cock a long meaningful stroke before finally releasing him. Smiling, definitely pleased with himself, Dean finally straightened. “We should probably get cleaned up.”

He accepted Dean's kiss, surprised Dean's tongue wasn't back in his mouth. It was just sweet gentle kisses again and he sighed into them. Dean's touch on his tip made him shudder as a little ripple of pleasure washed through him. He felt Dean's cock press against him and decided he liked it better when Dean was all hard, hot and bothered for him. He wasn't sure what to feel at Dean's words. He couldn't deny he liked Dean's kisses and couldn't deny that Dean's attention had gotten him aroused, something he hadn't expected. Hell, he was sixteen though. It wasn't like it was hard to get him aroused. He just wasn't sure…he didn't know how much further with a guy he wanted to go, even if it was Dean. It didn't matter though. Whatever Dean wanted he'd give him, he thought with a sigh. This wasn't at all bad. Maybe the rest would be just as good. He could hope, anyhow. He just wished he had a chance with a girl first. Maybe it was better he didn't. Then he wouldn't know and feel regret or something.

He watched Dean lick up his stomach through their combined come and made a face. "I think I'll stick with strawberry shortcake."

Dean's hand running along his cock made him groan. "Shit, don't do that unless you want me dry humping you," Sam said, squirming. He gave mock scowl at Dean's smug look.
"I got you just as hot," Sam teased. "Admit it."

He waved his hand over toward the chair. "I think there are some towels over there. If I sit up before this gets wiped off, I'll have to change and then Mom and Dad might wonder why."

He started to take the towel Dean held out to him but hesitated. "Did you want to do it? Wipe it off?" Was that something erotic too? He figured he might as well ask. It didn't really matter to him if he wiped it off or if Dean did, but it might matter to Dean.

Dean couldn’t decipher the look that passed over Sam’s face, and decided not to try. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. Though the look of mild disgust that the younger boy made when he’d licked their come from his skin had Dean chuckling a little. Though he’d initially planned on kissing Sam again, given the younger boy’s reaction he decided not to. He supposed he couldn’t really blame Sam. It was kind of an acquired taste. The first time Dean had sucked a guy off he’d thrown up afterwards... of course Dean had been a lot younger than Sam and the circumstances had been very different...

Cutting off that particular line of thought abruptly, Dean only laughed again at Sam’s complaint and teasing. He didn’t admit it, but he certainly wasn’t going to deny it either. Sam had gotten him pretty fucking hot without hardly trying.

Dean looked over where Sam pointed him towards a couple of towels and went over to grab a couple and he couldn’t help smirking a little as he came back. The younger boy looked quite debaunched. His shirt hiked up to his armpits, his jeans open, his cock hanging out. A light sheen of sweat and come covering his chest and stomach. They really had made quite a mess of Sam. Dean probably wasn’t in a much better state. It was a wonder that they didn’t get anything on the pool table itself, and that was probably a very good thing considering that would have been a hell of a lot harder to explain than Sam having to change clothes.

Sam’s question if he wanted to wipe the younger boy down had Dean pausing, giving the younger boy a considering look, before he finally shook his head and dropped the towel onto Sam’s stomach. He stepped back then, giving Sam space to clean himself off and get his clothes straightened. Dean pulled off his own shirt over his head to keep anything from getting on it as he wiped down his chest, stomach, and groin. Satisfied, Dean wiped off his hands last and tucked himself back away and zipped up his jeans.

Hearing the sound of footsteps upstairs that might be approaching the basement, Dean quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on.

Sam saw Dean considered it, so he would remember to offer in the future. He wiped himself down. God what a mess. Was sex always so messy? He gave a small chuckle to himself. Well, that was kind of a duh. Yes, it probably was. Once he wiped himself down he pulled down his shirt, wiped off his cock, and resituated his dick before he zipped up. He looked up when he heard footsteps. Those were his mom's.

From the kitchen she called down, "Boys finish up. We're getting ready to have dessert."

"Okay Mom. Be there in a few." He glanced over at Dean. That was good timing. He folded up the towel he had used. "I'm going up to the bathroom and wipe down a little better. You're welcome to come." When Dean handed him the towel he used, Sam folded it. Taking the towels and his beer, he headed up the stairs and was glad to see his mother was already gone from the kitchen. Good. He headed to his bathroom and turned on the sink, tossing the used towels in his hamper. Pulling off his shirt, he ran the rag over his chest then quickly wiped it clean and dried off. Pulling his shirt back on, he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a little sweaty, but he could just blame that on the washing his face which he did. He looked at himself in the mirror. Yep. Still looked a little bruised and beat up, but nothing else. He just hoped to God he didn't blush or something when he went out to greet his parents. Or Bobby. He had a feeling Bobby would know right off.

He hurried back down the hall. No blushing, he told himself. No blushing. Just act cool like all they did was shoot the shit and shoot pool, instead of shoot spunk all over each other. Dammit, no blushing.

He came out and plopped down at the table. Bobby had already cut up the pound cake and ladled strawberries over the top, capping it with reddi-whip. Sam saw the table was already cleared of the food and dishes. Probably what his mom brought it when she called them because he hadn't heard her come in prior to that. He hoped she hadn't or she might have heard noises that told her they certainly weren't playing pool.

"You two have a good time?" Keiko asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Dean's real good at pool, but I won a couple games at least." He set the beer aside. Beer and dessert were not his idea of a good mix. He grinned when his father set down a couple cold cokes on the table. "Thanks. Sorry, Mom, we should have helped you clean up."

"Pfft. We wiped most everything out. Wasn't much clean up aside from loading up the trash can with the paper plates. Your father stole my archery partner to go talk cars," she said, giving her husband a teasing glare.

"You got him while I was cooking. Only fair I got him afterwards."

Dean almost snorted when Sam’s mom called down for them to ‘finish up’. Yup, they’d just finished up all right. When the younger boy said he was going up to the bathroom to finish wiping down, Dean simply nodded, handing over the towel he’d used to clean up with.

He considered the younger boy’s offer, but merely shook his head and watched Sam head up the stairs. Dean wasn’t really in the mood for desert anyway.

Grabbing his beer from the edge of the pool table Dean took a long drink from it, mulling over everything that had just happened. He couldn’t decide if he was kind of glad that Bobby had dragged him here or not. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed what had just happened between him and Sam. He had. A hell of a lot more than he’d been expecting. Not that he’d ever thought Sam would be a lousy lay but... Sam had made him feel better than he had in a while.

Now that it was over Dean felt the familiar tension settling back over him as he was expected to return to the whole god damn family picnic... then again, why should he? They probably wouldn’t even notice he was absent.

Walking over to the stereo system with his beer Dean turned the music up a little. Not so that it was blaring or anything, but enough to fill the absence of sound now that Sam was gone. Then he walked over to the dart board that Sam had pointed out to him earlier and grabbed the darts then he stood back and began tossing the darts with well practiced precision. Intending to keep going until it was time to leave or Bobby came downstairs to yell at him, whichever came first.

Sam glanced around for Dean and frowned. Was he still pouting or whatever? With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. Bobby touched his arm.

"Let him be. If he wants to miss out on dessert…it's just the way Dean is at times. I made him come."

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm not going to let him stay in that basement, sulking."

Heading inside he went to the door leading to the basement and went down the steps. He watched as Dean threw a bulls eye with the dart. He walked up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "Please, come up and have dessert. I'm coming over to your place every day after school, right? My parents…they kinda would like to get to know you a little. If I'm going to be spending so much time with you, they want to know who they're entrusting their kid to. I know you don't want to be here but please? …I'll make it worth your while this week. Whatever you want. Just please? Come up and try to be social? Eat some dessert then shoot a few arrows with Mom? At least go look at Dad's car? It'll make them feel better about the situation. Maybe you don't care, but I care. If you do that, I'll bet it will make Bobby happy and you can convince him it's time to go, that you've got homework or something to finish."

Of course Dean heard the footsteps coming down the stairs but didn’t turn his attention away from the dart board he was aiming at. He’d honestly expected it to be Bobby ready to chew his ass out and probably drag him home by his ear, maybe literally, so Dean was a little surprised by the slender arms wrapping around his waist.

Sam?

Dean wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the fact that Sam had come to fetch him or by the hug the younger boy was giving him now. Dean definitely wasn’t the hugging type, but he didn’t pull out of Sam’s embrace, even as his lips turned down in a frown as the younger boy practically begged him to come upstairs and be ‘social’.

He didn’t know why it mattered so damned much to the younger boy what his parents might think of him, but Dean merely sighed as he quickly tossed the remaining darts in his hand at the target.

“Fine.” He said finally, trying not to sound as resigned as he felt but probably failing. If it would make Sam’s happy for Dean to ‘charm’ his parents, he’d do it, and the younger boy did say he’d make it worth his while.

So Dean slipped out of Sam’s embrace and followed the younger boy back up the stairs. When they went outside, Dean smiled a little sheepishly at the adults and apologized. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

Dean definitely did not sound like he wanted to come out of the 'batcave' as his mom sometimes called the basement, but dammit, he knew his parents and knew they would want to get more than one word sentences from Dean. They hardly knew Bobby and Dean. Sam hardly knew them and yet they were all put their trust in these strangers. He couldn't deny Bobby had helped him and so had Dean, without asking for anything. Well, initially anyhow, and it was Sam, after all that had asked for their current arrangement. He couldn't blame Dean for that. He knew Eric was going to cause all sorts of problems for Dean. And it…it hadn't been bad.

With Dean's agreement, he headed back upstairs. He was a little shocked when Dean actually said a whole sentence to his parents. He saw Bobby cock an eyebrow at the two of them then wordlessly dished out a dessert for Dean, putting in a small piece of cake, a lot of strawberries and extra whipped cream, just the way he liked it. Bobby slid it in front of Dean.

"Hey Mom, would you get out your special bow?" Sam asked. "I bet Dean and Bobby would both like to see it."

Keiko hesitated then smiled. "Okay. Let me dig it out."

"Yeah, like it's buried back in a closet or something," Sam snorted.

"Watch yourself young man or you'll be washing and waxing my SUV next weekend," she scolded him.

"Just because you can't reach the roof…"

"That why I made you drink all that milk. So you'd get tall," she tossed over her shoulder as she went into the house. A few minutes later she carried out an intricately carved wooden case, silver inlaid in various places. She set it gingerly on the table and opened it. Inside was a gleaming dark wood bow. Japanese symbols were etched along it and the grip was wrapped in leather. Arrows were also inside the case, also of black wood, but the feather flights were snowy white feathers. The tips were silvered along the edges, but the arrowheads themselves looked like iron. More symbols were painted on the shafts.

She lifted it out reverently, gave a slight bow, whispering something soft in Japanese, and then strung the bow. She smiled at Bobby and Dean. "This was my ancestral father's bow. He was a samurai it is said. His swords has been passed down through the men of my family, but because I have such a talent in archery, this bow was given to me by my cousin for safekeeping. The meaning of these words or symbols have been long forgotten. We have found no one who has been able to translate them."

Bobby stood up and after wiping his hands clean went around the table to stare at the bow. "May I?" he asked.

She gave a slight nod and he accepted the weapon with a proper Japanese bow. He studied the symbols. "'Kinryumaru', I think, Bobby said with surprise. "Highly unusual to name a bow. Gold Dragon, for lack of better transalation."

"You can read this?" she gasped.

"I study ancient texts," Bobby said. "Japanese among them. I can only get the gist of the symbols. Warrior-strong-evil-slayer. Sorry, that's about the best I can get without doing some serious research and even then, I'm not sure I can translate it. Give me some pictures and I'll see what I can do, but I'm not promising a thing. He handed the bow back to her and then looked at the arrows pulling one out with her permission. Bobby scratched his head. "I don't think it's writing, more like symbols." He carefully placed the arrow back in its case. "Truly magnificent, Keiko. I—we—are deeply honored for you to share this with us."

Keiko smiled then asked, "Would you like to shoot with it? It has to be used to keep it flexible. But not those arrows. I fear they would be damaged."

"I would love to shoot that bow," Bobby said, his voice filled with awed sincerity.

Sam grinned at Dean. "I figured he would like it."

Dean ignored the questioning look Bobby gave him. Taking his seat and giving a nod of thanks for the desert that the older man made for him without a word. Yeah, he probably looked a lot more relaxed than he’d been. The frown he’d been wearing almost the entire time here smoothed away, and though he didn’t actively engage in the conversation happening around him, he met everyone’s eyes and even grinned a little at the banter between Sam and his mother.

Only Bobby would probably realize it was complete bullshit. That Dean was simply pulling on the mask that the young man used most often with customers or when they had to deal with interviewing people when they went on hunts. Yes, Dean could be quite charming when he wanted to be. But it was just another skill. Something he used to get what he wanted, whether it was information from a witness to a case or a free piece of pie from an elderly diner waitress.

Dean knew quite well that Sam’s parents had no interest in ‘getting to know him, as Sam put it. Hell, he knew that Sam didn’t really give a damn about ‘getting to know him’ either. Sam just wanted him to put on an act for his parents, play nice, so that they wouldn’t think their son was hanging around a freak. So he would, this once, and hopefully everyone would be satisfied and he never had to see their fucking faces again.

When Sam’s mother brought out the ‘special’ bow, as Sam called it, Dean had to admit it was pretty damned impressive. Dean might not know what the heck the symbols carved into the wood meant, but both he and Bobby had seen enough weapons like it to know exactly what it was. That thing had been used to kill evil. The young man couldn’t help but smirk as Bobby went all geek over it, showing off his translation skills for Sam’s parents. If anyone could translate an ancient dead language, it was Bobby. The older hunter looked like a five year old that had just been given the biggest lollipop in the world when Sam’s mom offered to let him shoot it.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed with Sam, watching in amusement as Bobby continued to gush over the bow while Dean finished off his desert.

Sam watched as his Mom was the first to notch an arrow and gingerly pull back on the string. She showed Bobby exactly how far the string should be pulled, then she let loose the flight. The arrow found it's mark with perfect precision. She handed it off to Bobby, helped make sure his stance was perfect and his pull was perfection. His arrow slid along the first and buried its head beside Keiko's.

"Damn," Bobby breathed.

"It's like magic when I use it," Keiko admitted. "I can loose more arrows using this bow than I can with any other. They always fly true, as if the arrows know exactly where I want them to go."

She showed Bobby the speed with which she could fire and grinned when a few mere seconds later arrows were buried in the target in a perfect circle around the bullseye. "If they had let me shoot at the Olympics with this bow, I'd have taken that gold," she said wistfully. She retrieved the arrows and set them up for Bobby. "You try. See how fast you can fire."

Bobby took the bow and notched the first arrow. In a flurry of movement and only a bit slowly than Keiko, all the arrows were in the target. Not quite as perfect a circle, but still quite close. Shaking his head, Bobby said, "That's amazing."

He knew without a doubt it was magically enhanced, certain some of those symbols enhanced the bow and the archer who held it. He suddenly wished he could see the samurai swords of which she spoke. They too were probably more than mere swords.

"Dean," Bobby said, "I want you to try this. Come on over here." He glanced at Keiko. "He's pretty good with a bow himself. You don't mind do you?"

"So long as he gives the bow the respect it is due, he may fire it." She looked over at her son. "You too Sam. It's been a while since you've had a chance to fire it and you've grown since then."

"That's because you always practice with it when I'm not home," he teased her as he got to his feet and wiped his hands clean on the wet towel that he tossed to Dean.

Dean watched from his seat as Sam’s mom and then Bobby used the bow, and he had to admit he was impressed. Bobby was a pretty good fucking shot anyway, but he’d still never seen the older hunter fire that fast or that accurately before.

Yup, that bow was definitely special. Their kind of special. Of course no one but he and Bobby would ever know that. If Bobby translated the rest of those symbols they could never tell this nice suburban family what they really meant. Even if Sam and his parents believed in that sort of thing, that the bow was magic, blessed, whatever, they certainly couldn’t tell them how they knew that. Or, given the brief translation Bobby had done, that it was probably used to kill evil creatures of some kind a long time ago. Sam and his parents would think they were raving lunatics.

No, the bow was going to just be a nice family heirloom, something pretty to hang on the wall and show off on occasion. Maybe one day it would be sold and end up in the hands of some hunter that would use it the way it was meant to be used, but today certainly wouldn’t be that day.

When Bobby called him over, Dean shook his head.

“I’ll pass.” He told the older man. Yeah, he’d told Sam he’d attempt to ‘socialize’ with his parents, but there was no way he was going to touch that thing. With his luck he would and the fucking thing would snap in half.

Still, Dean got up and followed Sam, wiping off his hands on his jeans and ignoring the towel the younger boy had tossed him. He picked up one of the other bows, that weren’t worth a small fortune, instead.

Sam took the offered bow and let his mother show him the proper pull. He was taller and stronger now and it had been awhile. After a few practice shots he did the multi-shot and nearly repeated his mother in accuracy and time. He and Bobby traded the bow back and forth between them at his mother's encouragement.

Keiko watched as Dean picked up a medium quality bow and began shooting arrows into targets. He had the same technique as Bobby so Bobby surely taught him, which made sense of course. Sort of. Not many people did archery now a days though. She studied him, his stance, the look of concentration on his face. He wasn't with them. He was somewhere else, shooting something other than the target on the fence. She waited for him to return to the here and now before she approached him.

"You're a good shot," she said with a smile. "Go ahead, notch the next arrow." She helped him adjust his stance and his grip on the bow, both just minor adjustments. "Don't pull back quite so far. While you're getting a bit more power behind it, you're loosing accuracy. Just like with guns, holding your breath is a good idea to keep your aim steady. A long bow should have no tilt to it."

She grabbed a bow and came back to Dean's side and notched two arrows. She aimed and made minor adjustments on how she held them, then loosed both arrows. Each arrow hit a separate target in their center rings. She grinned at Dean. "I can teach you how to do that if you want."

Dean watched Sam shoot the special bow, more than a little impressed, but considering his mother was so good and all he wasn’t really surprised. Then he turned his attention away from the younger boy and focused on his own target. After a few practice shots he quickly got a feel for the weapon and did almost as well as Bobby as far as accuracy. Not good enough though, Dean knew, and the older hunter would probably have him practicing with the bow some more. It wasn’t good to get rusty with any weapons of the trade.

He remembered the first time that Bobby had shown him how to shoot a gun. He’d been horrible, of course, but he’d been determined to learn, to become a good shot, as good as Bobby was so that he could go on hunts with the older man. Within a couple of months, he was shooting the “o’s” out of rows of coke cans off the fence with deadly precision. He practiced every day, he studied the ancient texts that the older hunter gave him, he’d sharpened his hand to hand combat skills, knife throwing, everything and anything that Bobby would teach him. Within a year of living with Bobby, the older man had taken him on his first hunt. Just a simple salt and burn, but shooting that fucking spirit full of rock salt while Bobby was busy setting its bones on fire was one of the best moments of his life.

Dean remembered the first time he’d had to use a bow to kill something. Fucking harpies. He hadn’t been practicing with it for very long, but an iron tipped arrow coated in lamb’s blood was the only thing that could kill the fuckers. Bobby had been knocked out and Dean had been trying to kill one of the bitches and earned a nasty gouge out of his side from the other harpy before he’d finally managed to shoot the thing through the heart. Sam’s fingers had traced over that very scar when they’d been making out…

The young man lowered the bow, waiting for the others to finish shooting before he went to retrieve his arrows. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam’s mom came up to him and began telling him everything he was doing wrong. When it was Bobby criticizing him, or even other hunters, it had never really bothered Dean.

But what the fuck did she know? She did this for ‘sport’. When was the last time she had shot an evil fucking thing that was trying to rip out her liver? What did she know when you might need that extra bit of ‘power’ to shoot through flesh and bone as tough as armor? When you were shooting to kill… she didn’t even kill little furry animals. But of course he couldn’t say that. Sam and Bobby expected him to play nice. Dean lowered the bow he’d been using, watching as Mrs. Robin Hood shot two arrows at once. Nice trick. But that’s all it was. Dean forced himself to return her smile, even as he replaced the bow he’d been using on the table with the others.

He’d had enough.

“Maybe later.” He told her. Yeah right, like he was ever coming here again. Then he turned to Bobby. “I’m done.” He told the older man, and he didn’t just mean shooting. He was leaving, even if Dean had to walk all the way home. Yeah, he’d told Sam… but he didn’t care. He hated this place. He hated Sam’s parents. He didn’t even really know why he hated them so much, he just wanted to leave.

Bobby looked at Dean, nothing but his eyes betraying his anger with the young man. He gave a nod and a smile. "'Course. You got that paper to write tonight," he said with a bit of a smile. Bobby turned to Keiko and Jim. "It was awful nice of you folks to have us over. Sorry we can't stay. I've had a real fine time. And thank you for sharing that beautiful bow with us. We are deeply honored."

"Well I'm glad one of you enjoyed yourselves," Keiko said, giving a glance to the sulking teen who was already headed into the house, Sam hot on his heels.

"You'll have to forgive the boy," Bobby said apologetically. "He don't take to strangers real well."

"Somehow I suspect we'll still be strangers to him ten years from now," she said. She glanced at her husband before returning her gaze to the older man. "Don't misunderstand me, Bobby, but if Sam expresses any discomfort with the situation, it stops. If Dean's attitude infects our son…" she shook her head. "He's all we've got. I won't permit Dean's anti-social behavior to hurt Sam. I would like to say I like Dean, but how can I when it's obvious he holds only contempt and loathing for us? I realize he's terribly troubled and based upon what you've told me, it's no surprise. Sam's getting a few hard lessons right now. All Dean has had is hard lessons. That's all he'll ever have until he learns that every person he meets isn't a monster. We're willing to give him that chance, we're willing to try to make him part of our family, to call him our friend, but," and her eyes grew hard at this point, "we won't grovel. We are glad he is watching out for our son, but we're a package deal."

Bobby shook his head. "I wouldn't count on anything changing with Dean, Keiko. If you push, he's gone, plain and simple."

She gave a solemn nod. "Whatever happens, know that his protection for Sam is appreciated. Whatever his anger at the world is," she shrugged, "he will always be miserable unless he finds more people might care about him and for him than just you."

"You hardly know him," Bobby countered. "You've no room to judge."

"We want to get to know him Bobby. Deny he has anyone but you. If something happens to you, that young man will self destruct and be dead within the year. He has befriended our son, we've had a lovely time in your company. I would like, I would hope, between you and Sam, that a bridge might be built between our two families." She gave him a small smile. "But my father always said I was a dreamer." She sighed. "Tell him we were pleased he came and hope that he might come again."

She gathered Bobby's dishes and places them in a bag. "Sorry, I would have washed them if you had been able to stay longer."

"That's fine, ma'am," Bobby said, not quite sure what to make of Keiko at this point.

Sam followed Dean out to the Impala. "Sorry you hated it here," Sam said, "and that you don't like my parents. Will you…will you still be picking me up in the morning? Are you still going to…sponsor…me?"

Yeah, Bobby was pissed at him. Dean could see it in his eyes, but the older man backed him up anyway. Paper. Right. More like push-ups or running laps around the junkyard until his legs felt like they were going to fall off. After Bobby was done chewing him out of course.

But he was still grateful to the older man, giving Bobby half a smile and nod before he turned to head inside the house and out to the car. He heard Sam’s mom’s comment before he went inside, but he didn’t really care.

Dean glanced at Sam, a little surprised the younger boy was following him. Maybe Sam wanted to chew him out too before he left. He wouldn’t blame the younger boy.

So he was a little surprised when Sam apologized to him. He wondered if this was some kind of trick question. Was he supposed to reassure Sam now that he hadn’t hated it here and didn’t hate his parents?

Sorry, but he wasn’t going to lie to the boy.

When Sam hesitantly asked him if he was still going to pick him up for school, to sponsor him, Dean’s expression softened a little. He didn’t want Sam to think he hated him. He didn’t…

“Yeah… if you still want me to…” Dean answered, though he certainly wouldn’t have blamed Sam if he had changed his mind and didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

Sam didn't honestly know what to feel or how to react. What had his family done that made Dean hate them so? Or did Dean just hate everyone? Except Bobby. And Sam…but he didn't hate Sam for other reasons. He wanted to fuck Sam.

Sam's jaw clenched. Maybe Dean and Eric weren't so different. Dean was just a mirror image. Eric pretended to like his parents while being violent with Sam. Dean was gentle with Sam but let his hate for Sam's parents show. But it all came down to the same thing. Neither boy gave a rat's ass about his parents, both hated or mocked his parents. As for Sam, he was just a sex toy. Nothing more. Something 'pretty' to have beside them in their own special flavor of hot car.

So roughed up and beat down by Eric, but all the sparklies he and his parents could dream of and probably a free ride to college if he made the right deal. Or the junkyard dog who was at least nice to him, but hated his family, hell, maybe hated him and just pretended to be nice. He had promised to teach Sam to fight though.

He wondered what Dean would do if he told him no, he didn't want to see his face again.

Dean would go away, that's what he would do. Eric wouldn't. Hadn't. Maybe wasn't going to until he got a piece of Sam's ass. He wondered if he let Eric fuck him if that would be enough and Eric would leave him alone.

Probably not.

"Yeah. The deal's still on," Sam finally said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Since I don't have to worry about walking to the bus stop, you can pick me up between eight and eight fifteen, unless you…unless you want to pick me up earlier. Parents are gone by seven or seven fifteen." As soon as he learned to fight well enough to defend himself against those shits, the arrangement could end. Until then, he'd give Dean whatever he wanted, pretty much whenever he wanted. Dean was still better than Eric. Even if Dean hated his parents. At least he was honest about it.

Sam didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t need to. The younger boy’s eyes told Dean a lot. At the look Sam was giving him, Dean’s expression shifted back into the cold impassive mask he wore around everyone.

Sam was definitely pissed off with him… well, join the club. Maybe he should have told Sam that he hadn’t completely hated his entire time here. He certainly hadn’t hated the time he’d spent alone with the younger boy…

Maybe it would be better if he just kept his damned mouth shut though. It would have been better if he never came here, and damn the hunt. Not like Bobby was probably going to take him along anyway… now… after everything.

Dean was a little surprised at the spark of… relief… he felt when Sam confirmed that their deal was still on. That Sam wasn’t kicking him to the curb. He nodded slightly when the younger boy told him when to pick him up, though when Sam told him he could pick him up early… if he wanted… Dean stared at him almost as long as Sam had before.

It was obvious that Sam didn’t really want… he was just making him the offer, a payment, for the ride to school. Yeah, that’s all this was, right? But right now, the reminder, while hate was burning in Sam’s eyes was like a kick in the nuts.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” Dean finally answered before he turned away from Sam and got in the car, waiting for Bobby.

The way Dean's face grew suddenly so cold was practically like a slap in the face. He had grown accustomed, even in such a short time to seeing something, anything in Dean's eyes other than the …deadness… he saw now. He didn't like that look. He didn't like it at all. It smacked too much of Eric. Yeah, sure he'd just been comparing him to Eric, and some of it was true. But not all of it. Even if Dean wanted to fuck him, he had done a lot for Sam for no reason at all. He was just so damned confused by it all.

Sam was honestly surprised when Dean turned down his offer of a morning quickie. He chewed on his lip a minute. So Dean hated his parents for no obvious reason what so ever. That really upset him, he had to admit. If his parents had done anything, said anything for them to deserve it, but dammit, they hadn't. Mom even offered to let him shoot her bow. And she didn't let anyone shoot that bow except him. He knew she let Bobby shoot it because he could translate some of the words on it and because he respected the bow and obviously knew how to use one. But Dean wouldn't know that. He had no idea of the great honor his mother had paid him and Bobby. He was also a bit baffled. His mother had told him long ago what the writing on the bow and arrows said. He didn’t understand why she pretended not to know. Well, maybe she had simply made up something because Sam badgered her about it. He remembered the stories of the golden dragon fighting the evil shadows and demons of the lands. He just figured they were made up stories, like Grimm's fairy tales, but the fact the bow was called the golden dragon…nah. Just tall tales passed through the family line.

He saw Dean sitting in the car and Dean looked kind of …miserable and Sam knew it was his fault. He looked around. No one was out and Bobby hadn't shown up yet. He knocked on the window. While Dean rolled it down, he glanced around one more time then leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Dean's lips. "See you tomorrow."

What the fuck was taking Bobby so god damned long?

While Dean had been ready to leave from the moment he’d gotten here, in the last few minutes he’d passed the limit of his patience. He wasn’t going to stay in this fucking suburban hellhole for one minute longer.

It probably didn’t help that he could still see Sam standing outside the car from the corner of his eye even if he didn’t look at the younger boy. What the hell was Sam waiting for? Had he changed his mind after all about wanting his help?

If that was the case, Dean knew he shouldn’t give a damn. If the younger boy wanted to get the shit kicked out of him until he ended up in the hospital, or until he got himself ass raped by half the sadistic bastards that went to that school, then Dean shouldn’t give a fuck. He shouldn’t care. Hell, it would even make his life a whole hell of a lot easier not having to watch Sam’s back as well as his own.

But Dean did care. The thought of any of those things happening to Sam… Dean remembered again how he’d felt when he found Sam laying there on the floor. Just thinking about what might have happened instead if Dean had gotten there later, and what would happen to the younger boy without him… it made his gut clench so hard he was regretting eating desert after all.

When Sam knocked on the window, his stomach clenched even harder, but he forced his expression to remain impassive even as he rolled the window down. Maybe even if Sam didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore he could still… try…

The light kiss Sam gave him completely halted his thoughts in his tracks and he stared at the younger boy a little dumbfounded. It just… took him by surprise. Oh no, there was no way in hell he was blushing. Dean cleared his throat a little and nodded.

“Yeah.” He finally managed, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally saw Bobby, since this was starting to get really awkward.

Sam smirked a little. "And I always thought I was too old to still be blushing."

Seeing Bobby, he straightened and gave him a nod and small smile. "Thanks for coming Bobby. I guess maybe I'll see you tomorrow after school."

"Yep. Guess so. Try not to get beat up this time, huh kid?"

"I'll try," Sam said.

Bobby got in the car and shut the door, noticing just a hint of color staining Dean's cheeks. The car rumbled to life and he waved back at Sam as Dean guided the car out into the street and pointed it toward their home. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask but hardly knew where to begin or if he should even ask them. They were halfway home before Bobby finally reached over and turned down the blaring radio.

"'Fore you ask, yes, yer still coming on the hunt. Though for the way you acted toward them folk I outta hang you by yer ears." He'd wondered if Dean and Sam were 'together' or if Dean was sponsoring the boy, but the light blush he had seen on Dean pretty much answered that question. Sam seemed…okay with it, so unless he saw a change, he'd leave it be and leave it unasked and unanswered. Dean's sex life 't'weren't his business though Sam was underage and technically Dean could get himself charged with statutory rape if the relationship went south. He just prayed it didn't. Another reason to keep his nose out of it for now. Let it go the way it went.

"So out with it, boy. What demon crawled up your ass? The parents support you and Sam's friendship, support him coming to the junkyard after school, and tried to make you part of the gathering. They seem like nice decent folk. I know…I know I ain't been able to give you an apple pie life, but I thought maybe you might like to just have a day off from training, from working in the yard, from schoolwork, and being with Sam. Eating barbque chicken. Hell boy, we talked yer two favorite subjects, weapons and old cars. You'd have thought they were talking about putting you in a pink tutu or something. And don't be feeding me no bullshit. Straight and simple. Why were you being an ass to them? Did they do something I don't know 'bout?"

Dean gave the younger boy a mock glare at his teasing and decided he was going to try to make Sam blush as much as he possibly could tomorrow. When Bobby finally got in the car, Dean gave Sam a nod before starting her up and pulling out into the street. His tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away and he wondered if it had more to do with the kiss Sam had given him before they left or the miles they were putting between them and Sam’s house.

He wasn’t too surprised when Bobby reached over and turned off his music. He was more surprised the older man hadn’t done it sooner, in fact.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding when Bobby said he was still going to let him go on the hunt with him. Dean was relieved, not only for the chance to be able to hunt a werewolf, but because he’d always hated it when Bobby went off on hunts alone with no one to watch his back. If anything ever happened to Bobby…

Bobby’s questions weren’t much of a surprise, but Dean wasn’t exactly sure how to answer them because he didn’t know exactly why he hated those people so much. At the most he should probably feel indifference to them… and he had at first. But for some reason the more they tried to ‘get to know him’ the more he hated them. Maybe it was because they reminded him too much of some foster parents he’d had growing up, all smiles and shit when he’d met them, and then after a while… Or maybe it was something else. He didn’t know…

But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Bobby that. Bobby knew he hated talking about his past more than anything, and he wasn’t even really sure if that was the reason or not, so he wasn’t about to bring it up.

“They don’t give a damn about me. They just want to make sure that Sam isn’t hanging out with the riffraff.” Dean said instead with a soft snort and shook his head. “Too bad that’s exactly what Sam is doing and I’m not going to pretend otherwise just for them.”

"Bullshit. They do give a damn, you just ain't given them a chance," Bobby said. "If they thought you was riff raff boy, they would not have shown you that they owned a bow that was probably worth a small fortune and that her family has the two swords that go with it. Though she didn't say, there's probably that samurai's armor somewhere in the family too. They wouldn't be letting Sam hang out with you, even if you was offering your protection, if they thought you were scum, boy. They love their son. Right now they ain't too impressed with your anti-social behavior and neither am I. You want to piss off some stranger on a hunt, go right ahead. I've seen you charm damned near anyone you want to. You didn't even try. They ain't trying to fool anyone with anything. What have they got to win by befriending a junkman and his kid?"

Bobby wondered if someone in Dean's past, someone who looked like one of them abused him. It just didn't make no sense otherwise.

"Sammy seems to like you. Going to one of their picnics every once in awhile ain't gonna kill you. You get too ugly with them though, and they might decide you're just too damned spiteful and tell you and Sam it ain't working. They're protective of Sam…just like you are."

Bobby gave a soft sigh, "Look kid, if you care about Sammy, hating his parents ain't going to win you no points. He loves 'em. They love him. Whatever it is that raises your hackles, yer gonna have to find a way to deal with it. Ignoring it ain't going to make it go away. Them folks are social folks. They're gonna invite us again to another one of their shindigs, bet my hat on it. You refusing to come, again and again, and Sam just ain't gonna like that. How'd you feel if you found yerself a friend, someone you just really hit it off with, but soon as he laid eyes on me he hated me? Wanted nothing to do with me. Wouldn't give me the time of day to save his soul. After a little while, no matter how much you might like him, might want to be his best friend, would you try anymore? Could you have any sort of relationship with someone who loathed me like I was rotting corpse and ought to be put back in the ground? And while you're thinking on that, let's say this friend of yours has been violent now and again. Never against you. Fact he's done some things to people who gave you a rough time. And me, let's say I don't got no weapons, don't know how to fight. Do you think that maybe after time after time of seeing that hate in his eyes for me, that you might be thinking he hates me enough to maybe get rid of me so he ain't got no competition when it comes to you?

"I'm not asking you to walk in and hug 'em and treat 'em like long lost kin. I taught you how to be respectful. ' Yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir. Thank you very much ma'am. I 'preciate the offer but no thank you ma'am.' Being polite, being respectful, harmless smiles, no matter how much you dislike 'em, that will at least keep the peace. They'll figure out soon enough that ain't the social type but they won't think you're the hateful type. You be thinking on that while you're running yer laps when we get home. You can piss away your anger while you're doing target practice after that."

As Bobby laid into him, Dean’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel in his hand till he was practically strangling it. His knuckles were bone white, and actually beginning to ache, but he couldn’t ease up his hold. His expression remained cold and blank however, giving nothing away of the turmoil inside of him.

What the fuck did Bobby know! So what about the fucking bow! So she had wanted to show off. Big fucking deal! Was he supposed to be impressed?

He didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought about him. He wasn’t going to jump through hoops for anyone. Not them. Not even Bobby. Bobby was an idiot, or delusional, if he thought that they actually wanted friendship with him, or Bobby for that matter. He didn’t know what they wanted, and he didn’t care. Bobby was right, they had absolutely nothing to gain. Why the fuck did Bobby give a damned what they thought about him anyway!

And if Bobby thought he was ever going to one of their fucking backyard parties again, he really was delusional. The street out front where he was going to pick Sam up and drop him off again was the closest he was getting to that damned house ever again. If they didn’t like it, if Sam didn’t like it, well tough shit.

Bobby seemed to be laboring under the assumption that he and Sam were actually friends. They weren’t even close. They had an arrangement, nothing more. Sam got something from him. He got something from Sam. As soon as Sam didn’t need him anymore, Sam was going to kick him to the curb, just like everyone else. The way even Bobby eventually would when the older man got tired of him…

“Yes sir.” Dean finally snapped, when the older hunter was done speaking.

Bobby sighed to himself. Sometimes the boy baffled him. He knew it was Dean's defense mechanism; don't let people get too close and it won't hurt when they turn away. He had read Dean's file. Dean went thought fifteen families in eleven years. He disappeared when he was twelve. Reappeared when he was fourteen in Bobby's junkyard. The boy wasn't going to stay but it was winter and he didn't seem real inclined to run. He hardly spoke to Bobby at first, wouldn't get within hand's reach. Bobby searched for missing kids in the lower firty eight states. No one reported him as missing. Took him two weeks just to Dean's first name out of him. The first time Bobby yelled at him he thought for sure the boy was going to rabbit on him. It had taken time and Bobby didn't report that the boy was with him until the spring when if Dean wanted to, he could run and at least he wouldn’t freeze. Bobby bought clothes for him. Didn't say anything just washed them up and put them in the spare bedroom where Dean slept, though half the time Dean slept curled up in the corner instead of in the bed.

Bobby heard his nightmares every night, heard his screams, heard his tears. Finally his heart just couldn't take it anymore and he went in one night and wrapped the young boy in his arms and rocked him, told him it was going to be all right, that he had a home, a safe home, that no one was going to hurt him anymore. Dean had been stiff in his arms at first and then finally caved that third night and clung to Bobby and cried his heart out. The nightmares eased up after that.

He didn't tell Dean he went to social services, took Dean's picture in, and even his fingerprints. Refused to say who he was but told them the boy's name was Dean, he had obviously been abused and he wanted to know if the boy was a runaway. It took three months before he finally relented and told Social Services everything and that he wanted to be Dean's guardian if that's what Dean wanted. He took Dean down there and he had never seen Dean look so scared except after one of his nightmares. He showed Dean the papers that he wanted to be his guardian, if that's what Dean wanted, that Social services agreed, if that's what Dean wanted. Of course Social Services popped up unannounced throughout the next year. They'd seen Dean doing chores, seen Dean put Bobby between them, seen him escape out into the junkyard, refusing to come out until Bobby finally coaxed him out. He researched the boy's history, but Dean wouldn't say much about it. He didn't like talking about himself or about his past. He took to cars and took to guns and weapons like nobody's business. Bobby wasn't about to leave him along if he was going to be gone for a few days, so he'd drag Dean along on hunts, put him up in a hotel room and initiated Dean into the world of hunting. He didn't really have a choice, but he also knew that finding an outlet for all that anger and helplessness would probably help, and it seemed to. The could fight and Dean didn't shoot for the door. The first time Dean stood up for himself, Bobby was furious, but he was also proud. Dean finally believed in himself, and believed in Bobby.

He saw the way Dean clenched the steering wheel, saw the way Dean's jaw was set and the way his face slipped into that unemotional mask he hid behind. Even after five years he knew Dean was insecure. Maybe Keiko was right. Maybe Dean just couldn't deal with a 'normal' life. He didn't know how, didn't have the tools. Social services had made him that way, it wasn't the kid's fault. Maybe Bobby was pushing too hard and that wasn't fair to Dean. Dean was nineteen. He had a right to make his own choices, his own mistakes. He would eventually alienate Sam with his attitude toward Sam's parents, but Bobby could talk 'til he was blue in the face. When that boy dug his heels in, there was no moving him.

The rest of the ride to the salvage yard was silent. Bobby didn't hug Dean often. Dean usually stiffened up at first, then relaxed and hugged Bobby back. The hugs on both their parts were brief. Just long enough not to get awkward.

When Dean turned off the car Bobby got out and came around to Dean's side as Dean got out of the car. He stared up at the young man. Even though Dean had been an ass tonight, he was still proud of the boy. He'd always be proud of the boy. His boy.

Bobby stepped up close and gave Dean a quick hug. "I won't make you go again. You gotta do what you gotta do." He released Dean and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You ain't gotta run no laps, you ain't gotta do no target practice tonight. You do gotta get ready for the hunt, so I 'xpect you to do some training this week. Werewolves are fast and vicious. I want you sharp as a razor. I trust you to train at what ever level you feel you need to, to be ready. What say we order a pizza in a couple hours, as a late dinner. Just make sure your homework's done 'fore you go to bed."

Bobby turned and walked up the front steps. "Yer nineteen, Dean. I got no right making you do what you don't want to do. Except school. I'm not backing off on that. You're gonna graduate. No compromise on that. And don't forget, it's your weekend to do laundry."

With that Bobby went into the house.

Dean hadn’t felt this bad in a while. But then again, he hadn’t fought like this with Bobby for a while. He didn’t dare look at the older man sitting next to him as he drove home. The young man didn’t think he could take actually seeing the disappointment on the older man’s face. Hearing it had been bad enough. The silence in the car on the remainder of the drive home was almost suffocating.

Yeah, they’d had plenty of blow ups in the past five years he’d been living with Bobby. From little things like Dean skipping out on school, not doing his chores, or getting into fights. To bigger things like when Bobby had left him in a motel room when he was fifteen and Dean had gone out and not told Bobby where he was going or when he’d be back. Not showing up again the next morning to find out Bobby had been losing his mind with worry, had even called the police, thinking something bad had happened to him.

Though by far the biggest blow up they’d ever had was when they’d been on a hunt when he was seventeen and Dean had thought he heard a scream upstairs in the haunted house they were investigating. Bobby had told him to wait, but Dean had charged in, not listening to the older and wiser hunter. When all was said and done, Dean had earned himself a nasty concussion, three broken ribs, and a broken wrist for his efforts. Bobby had told him later (after he was out of the hospital and done chewing him a new asshole) that he thought Dean was dead after the ghost had thrown him over the balcony of the stairs. The way his neck had been bent, and all the blood...

He’d never told Bobby after every single argument, every shouting match, no matter how many years he lived here, he always expected that one incident to be the straw that broke the camels back, and the older hunter was going to tell him to pack his bags. When that didn’t happen, when the next day rolled around, sometimes he would just spend five or ten minutes just sobbing in relief into his pillow so that Bobby wouldn’t hear him.

When he’d turned eighteen... even though they hadn’t argued in a while, Dean had been so fucking afraid. He’d thought for sure, this was it. He was technically an ‘adult’ now. Social services didn’t give a damn where he was, not that they’d ever really given a damn in the first place, and Bobby was going to tell him he had to leave. Bobby had done his good deed. Given him a place to stay until he ‘grew up’. Bobby didn’t need to take care of him anymore...

A week after his birthday and he was still here, Dean had finally begun to relax, maybe even believe, this really would be his home for as long as he wanted it to be. Like Bobby had told him countless times but he’d never let himself believe...

Now, because he didn’t want to play nice, make friends, whatever, with “nice and normal’ people. Now he had just reminded Bobby that he wasn’t normal. He’d never be normal. He didn’t even want normal. He... liked... the life he had here now. Dean never would have imagined, after countless fights, arguments, and shouting matches... that this would bring all those doubts and fears crashing back in full force.

Dean pulled the car into the Junkyard’s driveway up to the house and shut off the engine. The silence even more oppressive now that the familiar comforting rumble was gone too. The sound of the door opening and Bobby getting out almost made him flinch, but Dean said nothing as he got out of the car as well. He was a little surprised... ok... a lot surprised when the older man came around the car and hugged him. Dean would have vehemently denied that any moisture he had to immediately blink away from his eyes was due to anything but the dust the impala had kicked up when they drove up.

The young man nodded silently to Bobby, then watched the older man go inside. At first Dean didn’t know what to do, or what to think. But finally he swallowed hard. Training. Yeah. That was nice and simple. After doing a few stretches, not really caring about changing his clothes, Dean started to run. Starting out slow but then picking up the pace until he was running like the devil was after him.

He tried to blank his mind as he ran, but after about three laps gave up. His thoughts always came back to what Bobby had said, what he and Sam had done, the thought of Sam pushing him away eventually... After about ten or fifteen laps around the junkyard (hell, he’d lost count) he finally collapsed against the chain link fence in the back. No way for Bobby to see him and cried till he thought he might choke. He still had no answers when he finally returned to the house, sweating and red faced. At least both could be blamed on his run and not his tears.