He was mouth to mouth with Dean. Kissing him back as hungrily as the man's hands roved over his body, hardly noticing, hardly protesting as Dean stripped him down to his briefs, right there in the middle of the club, then pulled him up against his hard body, inserted a leg between his own, and started to dance oh so fucking dirty... arm around Sam's waist, pushing him back, running his palm up his bare chest and nipple as he girated, their cocks grinding.

Losing all his words, his ability to speak, Sam took all of Dean's cues, not a single protest breaking from him. He didn't want any separation between them, hated it when Dean pulled away to dance him around, and was relieved and so fucking needy each time their bodies came back together. He tried to pull off Dean's clothes, but it was futile. Every time he stripped him off a jacket, something else covered Dean's body. He'd tear his shirt off, and there would be a tee shirt... another sweater... he'd open his zipper and push his jeans down, and find leather pants.

Crazy... he was being driven out of his mind crazy... by want... by the need to feel Dean's skin, just as the guy had access to him. "P... please... oh fuck.... please?" he begged, grinding his hips against Dean's...

Sam woke with a start. He was on his stomach, in his bed, fucking against the mattress. "Oh God..." he groaned and rolled over. He'd already jerked off three times. He also had a towel under him, because he'd awakened and found he'd had wet dreams, twice... What the hell was going on.

Taking deep breaths, he refused to put his hand on his aching dick. Refused to acknowledge the hard ache. Or the jade green eyes he saw... the heat in those eyes... the need that fueled his own. "No!" he whispered at the apparition in the dark. "No more."

He wasn't drunk... not anymore. He was just... oh fuck, he was so damned horny. What a way to spend his 21st birthday, humping his mattress and hand. And Dean on the dancefloor. He groaned and pulled the pillow out from under his head, and put it over his face. He was not gonna think about that anymore.

* * *
Over the next two days, Sam had a lot of difficulty concentrating. His sleep was disturbed... he'd wake up so hard, it hurt. Then he'd fight it, sometimes for a full hour and half, but the result was always the same. He'd come to images of Dean pressing him against a wall, kissing him on that dance floor, or whispering in his ear about how he wanted to have him.

In class, the history teacher asked him what daydream he was lost in, and he felt the heat steal into his cheeks. He'd been seeing himself at that bar, with Dean pressing up behind him, grinding into his ass and discussing the weather as if he had no idea what feelings were running through Sam's body as a result... as if Sam could answer him. "N... nothing," he'd answered, giving a self conscious cough.

Later, when he'd gone to the cafeteria, he hadn't been able to find his wallet. After searching everywhere, he allowed his mind to go back to Dante's. That was the last place he'd pulled it out, when he was at the bar. Great...

After his last class, but still during the early afternoon when he knew the club wouldn't be open for business, he took a bus and got to the club. He hadn't asked for a ride because he'd had enough teasing from everyone who thought he'd probably gone home with someone that night, since he'd disappeared. They knew damn well he was in his room, he was pretty sure of it, but they had something they could tease with and weren't about to drop it in favor of the truth. His own car was ... well he'd pulled it apart and was repairing it and souping it up.

He knocked on the door and even though no one answered, he knew by the fact there were a few cars in the lot, that someone had to be inside. Persistent, and not wanting to come back another day, or when the place was in full swing and he was in danger of seeing the man who'd been haunting his dreams lately, he kept knocking and knocking.

The door finally opened. "Read the sign, we're closed."

Surprised, Sam took a step back, then smiled. "I ah... I'm jus there because I think I left my wallet, the other night."

"Wallet, alright, come in... talk to the Ricky at the bar. He's in charge of lost and found."

"M'kay," Sam followed him inside. Though the place was virtually empty, he could hear the music, feel the heat of the pressing bodies, the sexual energy that must have driven him to madness, saying 'yes' to dancing. He walked up to the bar and sort of recognized the bar tender, but wasn't sure. "I think I left my wallet here."

"Was it full of condoms?" The man gruffly asked, before turning. "Oh, you."

"No it..." Sam gripped the edge of the bar. "Oh, me what? What did I do?" Parts of the night were a bit blanked form his mind, he just hoped it wasn't embarrassing. Yeah... too late for that.

"Left your wallet?" Rick raised a brow like he was talking to an idiot.

"Right." Sam let his breath out and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Your friend took it."

"My friend?" Sam shook his head. "No, none of them told me..."

"Dean. I guess I should say your 'new' friend," the bar tender smirked.

"Dean?" Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath, then reopened them. "Not really a friend. I know he comes here often, can you ask him to leave it with you and give me a call..."

"Why don't you just get it from him yourself?"

Sam's head whipped around to see where Dean was, then frowning, he loked back at the bar tender. "I don't ... he'd not here."

"No, but he lives just down the block, in the Towers. Penthouse X."

"Towers... penthouse X..." Sam shook his head, yeah he knew where the luxurious towers were, and didn't it just figure. His heart sank at the thought of facing Dean again, but since it was beating very hard agains this chest at the same time, he knew there was more going on.

"He won't bite, go get it from him."

This was the moment Sam would be *Headdesking* if he were on the computer.

* * *

Sam had to give his name to the security guard in the large lobby of the tall building and tell him he was going to penthouse X. The man walked to the elevatore with him and using his key, gave him access to the floor.

The entire time the elevator was shooting upwards, Sam was questioning his sanity in coming here. One dance, and the man had totally complicated Sam's nights and days with dreams and day dreams, with questions about what he wanted out of life, his sexual orientation, with questions about those jade eyes that haunted his dreams, maybe even before the night they'd met.

The doors quietly hissed open. Walking over thickly piled carpet, he made his way to one of the three penthouses on this level. Standing outside the large door, he rubbed his wet palm against his jeans. His heart was banging so hard against his chest it was distracting. Maybe he'd be lucky... an apparantly rich guy like him would have a butler, right? Or a housekeeper? Yeah... it'd be fine, he'd get his wallet from the help and never see him.

Convincing himelf, Sam knocked on the door and held his breath.

The next few days Dean had busied himself with 'work' though his thoughts never strayed very long from the young man he'd met that night in the club. He'd returned to Dante's Inferno every night but he knew he wouldn't find Sam there. Sam had run away from him after all, he didn't expect the young man to come back. In fact, he was a little surprised that he'd seen the boy there that night in the first place. Even though the boy was a splendid sexual creature, he also had an innocence to him that could not be denied.

Perhaps that was one of the things that intrigued him so about the young mortal? Beyond his striking resemblance to his long dead brother, it was certainly rare in this day and age for such a beautiful young man to be so innocent.

Samuel had been innocent… so innocent… when he'd died… when he'd been killed. Innocent in body. Innocent of the crimes he'd been accused of…

***

In the year 1603 their father had died of smallpox. Their mother had died giving birth to Samuel. Dean had been thirteen at the time and Samuel had been nine when they'd been left alone in the world. It was difficult of course. It had been hard enough for him, Sam, and their Father to keep the farm running by themselves all those years, but with their father gone it was even harder.

In the winter of 1605, the blizzard came that lasted for weeks. It was unnatural, everyone said. They tried to stay inside most of the time but food was running low and they had to go out hunting. That was when Samuel had fallen through the ice of the river they hadn't even realized they'd been so close to. Dean had managed to pull his brother out of the freezing water and carry him home but the boy had come down with pneumonia. Despite his best efforts to care for Samuel, his brother had nearly died.

Ever since then, his brother had been so frail he could barely get out of bed some days. Dean had been left to take care of the farm on his own after that. Of course it was even harder to take care of everything without Samuel's help but of course he didn't care about that. He only cared that his brother had lived. Taking care of their property and taking care of his brother was all he cared about.

Samuel helped in other ways however he could. The boy had always been good at repairing things and now he made things for him to help him take care of the farm easier. The irrigation contraption his brother had designed that Dean built had actually made their crops the envy of many farmers in lands surrounding theirs.

Much to the displeasure of Mr. Myers, the wealthiest land owner in those parts at the time that had been trying to buy their land ever since their father had died. But Dean refused to sell their land, no matter how hard it was at times.

By the time Dean was twenty years old their farm was doing very well. They earned enough that he could afford to pay a couple extra hands to help around the farm. Between that and the younger boy's inventions he was able to spend much more time taking care of his brother. That was also around the time that many of the village's eligible women began to practically throw themselves at him.

Dean didn't care about any of them of course. They were only interested in his land and the money he was beginning to accumulate with it. They certainly hadn't been very interested in marrying him when he'd been just a poor farm boy on the brink of bankruptcy. They knew nothing about him. Only Samuel truly loved him. Besides, he didn't have time for a wife.

At least after a few years most of them had gotten the message and given up courting him. Unfortunately Mr. Myers, having switched tactics and instead of trying to buy his land tried to get him to marry his daughter instead, was more persistent than most. It had become so bothersome he'd finally told the girl that he would never marry her in a thousand years if she were the last woman alive, which of course had sent her away in tears, and Dean figured that would be the end of it.

How wrong he'd been…

***

Dean was pulled out of his memories by the sound of the soft knock on his door and frowned. He was not expecting anyone. He stood slowly from the plush chair by the window he'd been staring blankly out of, lost in thought, finishing off the amber liquor in his glass before setting it down.

It was not often he was surprised anymore, having lived so long. But Dean was definitely surprised when he opened the door, wearing nothing but the black silk pajama bottoms he wore to bed sometimes, and saw the very subject of his musings standing on the other side before him in flesh and blood…

"Samuel…"

No… Not Samuel, just Sam… Dean shook himself mentally and ordered himself to stop behaving foolishly. Of course it wasn't his brother. Still, it was the young man of his obsessions, and he was definitely not unpleased by this turn of events.

He smiled at the young man charmingly.

"I'll admit, I did not expect to see you again. Please, come in." Dean said as he stepped aside to allow the young man to enter.

When the door opened, Sam's lips parted but no sound came out. Stare. It was all he could do after forty eight hours of dreaming, thinking, jerking off to thoughts of, trying to forget, and obsessing about, this man, and the things he made Sam feel. That night at the club, he'd been smitten, but he kept telling himself it was the drinks, the atmosphere, the euphoria of having turned twenty one. That he'd wanted to fit in with the wildness he saw around him. That he was mentally exaggerating Dean's good looks.

Exaggerating? If anything, the man looked better in the light. Made Sam's heart give an almost painful lurch. He couldn't help that he was drinking in the sight of his bare chest, noticing how well defined his muscles were, the flat stomach he'd touched on the dance floor. When his his eyes reached the waistband of the low slung black as night silk pants, and he wondered what it would have felt like if Dean had been wearing them instead of the clothes the other night, when they'd danced, he barely prevented a low moan from sounding.

Oh God... he was never gonna get any sleep now, not ever. Not after seeing him like this. Not after letting his mind go there. What had he done? What had he done to deserve this.

He heard Dean speak, and brought his tortured gaze up to the man's jade green eyes and felt himself flush. Did he know? Could he know the thoughts that had been running through Sam's mind?

He wet his lips with his tongue, feeling like a complete idiot. "Ah... hi," he swallowed, and glanced at the elevator behind him, then back. "I just... well I'd left my wallet at Dante's and they told me to come get it from you... here. I... I can wait here, I didn't mean to disturb you." Still, his gaze went past Dean for a second, caught a glimpse of the ultra modern apartment and the largest flat screen t.v. he'd ever seen. Hopefully the guy didn't think he was being stalked!

Dean didn’t bother to hide his amusement of the fact that Sam’s eyes strayed down low… and then even lower… The young man obviously liking what he saw and the blush that stained Sam’s cheeks when those beautiful eyes finally snapped back up was just endearing. So innocent and shy. As though they hadn’t been humping against each other, practically having sex right there on that dance floor, surrounded by dozens of people.

Of course Sam had been drunk then. Now Sam was completely sober and that just made it even better. Because Dean could see the warring emotions in Sam’s eyes. He could see how much Sam wanted him and how much he wanted to deny that want at the same time. But now the young man couldn’t blame his desire on lowered inhibitions. There was nowhere to hide from him now.

Dean smirked a little as he watched the young man searching for an escape. Ready to run, just like that night, but he certainly wasn’t about to let Sam get away from him again so easily. Besides, if the boy really wanted to get away from him, he never would have come here in the first place.

“Do I look disturbed?” Dean asked lightly, amusement dancing in his eyes as he smiled at the young man in a way to hopefully put Sam at ease. After all, he wanted the boy to come to him willingly, if at all possible. While Dean had no qualms about taking someone against their will, for Sam he knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. He wanted something different. He always got what he wanted.

“You’re in luck. I was going to mail it today. I’ll get it for you, but please come inside. I insist. You came all this way, the least I can offer you is a drink.”

Did he look disturbed? Well did Dean walk around in sexy pajama bottoms all day or had he just rolled out of bed? Sam wasn't about to ask, even if the question was at the forefront of his mind. "Guess I saved you a trip."

Sam couldn't help smiling back, and knew damn well he was way out of his depth here, and yet these were his legs walking him past the threshold and inside. "Drink's probably a bad idea," he muttered softly, making a wry face.

Feeling the heat emanate from Dean's body, Sam was quick to move away. "Never been to a high rise apartment before," he said, looking around. If the size of the living room was anything to go by, the place had the square footage of a house. The design and furnishings, very modern and mostly deep red, black and silver, were definitely a reflection of the man who owned it. The room exuded confidence, masculinity and sex.

Sam let out a breath, maybe the sex part was just him. Then he saw the pictures on the wall, and after focusing on them for a while realized that using a few strokes, the artist had created scenes of kisses and of people making love... but it didn't jump out at you. Dragging his gaze away, he looked at the black leather sofa. It looked comfortable and was big enough to for two people to lay down on, and why was he thinking such things? Frustrated with himself, he noted the thickly piled deep red rug under the sofa. A highly polished black stone table sat on the rug too. Beyond the red carpet, the floor was a black granite.

Sam walked to the end of the room, dominated by the floor to ceiling window and looked outside at the view, and down at the street, then turned. The bar, on the opposite end of the room was black and silver, and everything gleamed. The shelving behind it was glass and displayed all sorts of glasses and one or two bottles which had lights trained on them, like they were being show show cased.

There was more glass shelving around the room and Sam had to go investigate, though he felt Dean's amused look trained on him. Dean had to be an art lover because all sorts of interesting pieces were showcased. Lacquered art, crytal blocks with internal etchings, one of them depicting an orgy... Sam's gaze shifted to Dean's, then he quickly moved away from that dispaly and looked at the most unique art he'd seen. It was a picture, but it was projected onto the wall. There was no canvas, and he couldn't see the projector.

"Are you an art dealer or something?" Sam asked, when he really wanted to ask Dean what he did for a living. When his gaze met Dean's, he felt another flush climbing his cheeks. Dammit, he was going to have to get this under control. No, because after one little drink, he was out of here, and hopefully... he wouldn't see the guy in his dreams. Yeah... fat chance. He looked better in the light, if that was possible.

Saved him a trip. Indeed. Since Dean had no intention of actually mailing the wallet to the young man, rather, showing up on his doorstep much like Sam had shown up on his. No reason to give Sam any alarm however and make the boy think that he was ‘stalking’ him or something. Dean almost had to laugh at that thought. If Sam truly had any idea what he’d gotten himself into that night in the club he would be wishing that Dean was merely a creepy stalker person.

Instead, Sam walked calmly inside, the prey walking directly into the predator’s den. Though Dean couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as the young man quickly hurried out of his personal space. It was kind of adorable the way Sam was still so skittish even after what he’d done that night, rubbing against him on the dance floor like he was in heat. Perhaps a little something extra in that drink to help the young man relax wouldn’t be a bad idea Dean thought with a grin as he shut and locked the apartment door.

As Sam appraised the various items in his apartment Dean went over to the bar to fix them both a drink. The expression of fascination on the young man’s face hitting a cord of deep familiarity inside of him that he couldn’t decide if it was welcome or not. Samuel… his brother… he’d often worn the same expression whenever he was taking something apart, figuring out how it worked, then putting it back together even better than before. He wondered if Sam was trying to figure him out the same way his brother tried to figure out how things worked.

The similarities between this man and his brother… he could not deny it unnerved him a little as much as it intrigued him. Awakening feelings inside of him he thought long dead and buried.

Dean’s mouth quirked in amusement when Sam viewed the ‘naughtier’ pieces of his collection and the way the innocent young man blushed. Enticing without meaning to be. Sam was lucky Dean did not simply grab him and push him to the floor and take him right where he stood. Instead Dean merely approached the young man and handed him the drink he’d made. A nice little concoction of his own design he’d perfected over the years, it would go down very smoothly but would definitely help the boy relax.

“No, merely a collector. I like beautiful things.” Dean replied with a shrug, taking a sip from his own glass. “You could say I’m a consultant. I make sure people get what they want. How about you? I know you’re a student, what are you studying?”

Dean's voice washed over Sam, low and husky, sending odd sensations through Sam, especially the way he said I like beautiful things. Yeah he knew Dean didn't, couldn't mean him, but everything about the guy screamed sex and it just made Sam's mind travel that path, even when the guy was saying something completely innocent. Lifting the glass to his mouth, he took a couple long sips, the licked the shiny liquor off his lips. He didn't recognize the flavor, it was just a little sweet, and not strong... not like that stuff he'd had at the nightclub. This would maybe take the edge off, make him act less the bumbling dork, and help him get through this.

"It's good," he said, taking another little sip. "So a consultant. That must be nice, you get control over your hours." Which explained being in pajama pants at this time of the day. The guy looked like a freaking movie star, but he wasn't girly at all. There was something rugged about him, despite the almost perfect features.

"I'm an engineering major," he gave a shrug, knowing in comparison to all this, it was boring if nothing. "I like to build stuff so... learning the theory behind it." In a way, he was doing things backwards. He already knew how to make a lot of things, and had no trouble building without plans. Now he was learning why things worked, the principles behind certain designs. "It's probably just a little more fascinating than being an accounting major," he said with a slightly nervous laugh. "Is that what you thought? Accounting?"

Dean’s eyes followed the path of Sam’s glass and lingered on the young man’s lips, the way that tantalizing pink tongue darted out, teasing him. Yes, he was staring, and he didn’t even make an attempt to hide that fact. Didn’t really matter anyway since the young man was pretty much avoiding his gaze anyway.

“I’m glad you like it.” He replied casually, smiling. Though his smile faded somewhat when Sam mentioned that he was an engineering major. Liked to build things...

Like Samuel. Dean tried to refuse the words that came unbidden into his mind, but how could he? Like Samuel, everything about this young mortal was like Samuel. Sam looked like Samuel. Exactly like him. Down to the mole on his cheek and the shade of his eyes. Sam's voice sounded exactly the same as his long dead brother’s. Hell, they even shared the same name.

If he didn’t know better he would have assumed this man was some kind of Trojan horse sent by his enemies to throw him off. But as much as he almost wished that were the case, he knew it wasn’t. For starters, his enemies knew that he was not nearly so sentimental. If any of them had any idea about his human life and the reason he was damned to hell, unlikely, they also knew they would sniff out any treachery within seconds of Sam’s arrival. Second, and the more telling reason, he knew Sam was only human. Not demon, shape shifter, or created by magical means. Just a mortal... with his brother’s name, face, and voice...

Dean reached out and gently caught the younger man’s chin, turning Sam’s face to look at him. Looking deep into the young man’s eyes. Windows to the soul... or so they said.

“Samuel...” Dean whispered, almost questioningly. “I am not sure what to think of you... yet.”

Sam was startled by Dean's sudden touch. His breath caught as the guy forced him to look into his face, to meet those beautiful jade eyes that had haunted him for the last few days. Not days... years.... He'd seen them before, in dreams. And now he realized, in nightmares.

Swallowing, he didn't dare pull away as he fought his ghosts alone, just as he always had. Then Dean's cryptic words washed over him and Sam had no answers. "I'm... I'm not sure what you mean. I'm no mystery," he gave a low snort, tried to act casual, but how could he? When Dean was still holding his jaw and searching his eyes so intently.

A knot formed in his stomach. He wondered what Dean saw, what he thought. He'd probably laugh so hard if he knew that Sam had been thinking about him, been suffering from too many hard ons. Heart banging against his chest, Sam started to sway toward Dean, eyes starting to shut.

Alarm bells rang in his head. This wasn't what he was here for. This man was out of his league, not to mention a corrupting influence. He pulled back suddenly, looking away, his cheeks on fire. He took a deep breath and managed to force himself to turn back. "Seriously. If anyone is a mystery, it's you."

He groaned. It wasn't even internal, he'd groaned out loud. Huffing, he looked down at the drink in his hand. "I don't think I should be trusted with liquor. Sorry." God, it was a wonder Dean wasn't walking him to the door already.

Dean could tell he’d made the young man nervous and he released the boy when Sam pulled away from him slightly. Letting him look away, but even though Sam tried to act casually, he couldn’t hide from him. He could practically feel the turmoil in the young man. The confusion, desire, and fear all rolled into one. The excitement… the way the boy leaned into him, wanting him, needing him, even if he would deny it vehemently even to himself later on…

He smiled at the young man in a way meant to put the mortal at ease.

“I think you’re more than you pretend to be, Sam.” Dean said casually enough, though there was a wealth of meaning behind his words… if Sam chose to examine them. Chances are the boy wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. Later though, when he was alone and thinking about him…

Dean merely chuckled warmly at the young man’s apology, stepping closer into his personal space. Almost as close as they’d been dancing last night as he set his own glass down on the table next to them, then took Sam’s from him and did the same.

“Maybe you just deny yourself too much.” Dean all but purred as he slipped his arm around the young man’s waist, drawing him closer still.

What did Dean think he was pretending to be? Why did it bother him that an almost stranger might think he was some kind of liar or actor? He bit his lip and tried to gather his thoughts, which was almost impossible, especially once Dean crowded his space. When his drink was taken away, he turned questioning eyes to Dean's. Before he could get a word out, he was being tugged almost up against Dean's body.

His mouth dropped open, his breath wooshing out. His senses were swimming, every nerve in his body vibrating... his stomach fluttering in a way that Sam couldn't even say whether it was a good feeling or a bad one. This man's effect on him was... it was powerful, and he couldn't understand why. Why did he affect him this strongly? And why the hell did he feel both trapped, and freer than he'd ever been, when he was with him?

"I..." Sam licked his lips. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to put his own arms around the guy, see how real that night had been. Wanted to know if sliding his body against Dean's was as magical... as addictive and sensation as he remembered, as he constantly dreamed about. "I'm not..." he shook his head. "Not pretending anything. I... it's not denial..."

The heat in Dean's eyes raked over him, made him feel kind of weak. Fuck... this was ridiculous. He wasn't some teenage girl. Sam put his hand between them, his palm against Dean's chest. The protective measure backfired. Dean's muscles rippled under Sam's hand, making him even more sharply aware of the man. His skin was so damn hot and there was no way to ignore the jolt of electricity that went up his arm at the first touch.

"Dean I... I can't do this," he said, his voice a bare whisper. "I'm not who you think I am." He was sure that Dean was in the habit of picking up guys, maybe girls too, at Dante's, and that he thought Sam was like his regular pick ups. A part of Sam wished he were like that. The part of him that started to push away, though his eyes spoke of anguished need for something he didn't quite understand.

Sam’s denial, how the boy was almost offended, by Dean’s words was amusing. He wondered if the young man was always so modest, and had always thought himself so ordinary. Perhaps Sam had no idea just how special he was. Or maybe he was just lying to himself as much as he was lying to Dean. Telling him, telling himself, he didn’t want him when it was plainly obvious that Sam did.

Sam wanted him, wanted this, it was clear in every line of the young man’s body. In his eyes that practically begged for him. Almost pleading… and at the same time pushing him away. Or at least trying to, Sam never actually got that far, the hand that he placed between them only keeping Dean from moving any closer.

Dean covered Sam’s hand on his chest with his own, letting his fingers brush lightly over the young man’s and holding it there. Sam’s palm resting practically over his heart even when the young man finally began to pull away from him and Dean let him go. All but that one touch.

“I think you’re special. That’s why I like you.” Dean replied, then smiled more casually at the boy when he finally released his hand. He wasn’t trying to spook Sam, after all, but that’s exactly what he had done. Too intense… he had to tone it down. Small, gentle, pushes would bend the young man to his will. Too hard, too fast, would send him running.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Let me make it up to you? Let me take you to dinner. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

If his heart could have leapt out of his chest, it would have, the instant Dean's hand came over his own. It was so... so intimate, standing there, with his hand trapped between Dean's chest and hand, feeling the strong beat of his heart, standing close enough to breathe in his familiar light after shave. He could feel the weight of Dean's gaze, even after he looked away and started to move, and when his hand wasn't released, he turned and looked back at Dean.

Almost gently, his hand was released, and the intense look in Dean's eyes seem to melt away. He was smiling now, in reassurance? Sam was unsure, but the knot in his stomach slowly loosened and he could breath again.

An embarrassed smile lifted one corner of Sam's mouth as he shook his head at the notion that he was 'special.' It had to be a line, had to be... they hardly knew each other. And yet, despite the smoothness of this man, Sam felt he was being sincere. And yeah, he could also have honed the sincerity act, but if Sam listened to every argument inside his head, he was going to end up at the looney bin.

"No, it's fine. You didn't make me uncomfortable," he said quickly. It wasn't a total lie. It wasn't the things that Dean was doing that were making him uncomfortable, it was his reactions. "Nothing to apologize ab--"

Dinner? The guy was asking him out. Yeah... he was, he really was. So not just a pick-up, was that the message? Sam ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. He just wasn't used to this, this kind of attention, especially from a guy. He flashed back to the dance floor. To the kissing. Did he want more, or should he just run.

How far can you run before your dreams catch up with you?

"M'kay. Dinner," he nodded. "Somewhere not expensive," he added, afraid Dean would select a place way above his pocketbook. Also, he didn't want it to look like he was being a sponge or... or that it was a dinner for sex arrangement. "Just..." he licked his lips and forced himself to meet Dean's gaze. "Just to get to know each other better...right?"

Dean couldn’t help but grin in amusement when Sam’s words suddenly cut off mid sentence, the young man obviously shocked by his offer. He wondered if the boy had ever been asked out on a date before by a man. Probably not. Or if he had, then Sam had never considered saying ‘yes’ before. But now Dean could see the dilemma in the young man’s eyes. Dean didn’t push. Not even in the subtle way he could bend mortals to this will. He wanted this to be Sam’s choice…

When the young man finally agreed, Dean let his genuine pleasure show.

“Great. Dinner and maybe a movie, nothing fancy. No strings attached. I promise. If you hate me, you never have to see me again.” Dean replied, smiling as he held his hands up in sincerity and crossed his heart. Then he waved a hand toward his living room couch.

“Just lemme go get changed. Have a seat. Finish your drink. I’ll be back in a minute.” Dean said, then he turned and headed towards his bedroom, though he didn’t shut the door behind him. He went to his closet, bypassing the more expensive suits he often wore when going out for something much more casual. Jeans, a plain black t-shirt, boots, and leather jacket.

Sam seemed almost intimidated by the money he had, and he wanted the boy to be able to relax around him. Drop a few of those walls he was clinging to so desperately. He fixed his hair in the mirror then grabbed Sam’s wallet off of his dresser before returning to the living room.

Dean tossed Sam’s wallet to him with a grin.

“Ready?”

Dinner and a movie, that sounded normal. Well, about as normal as it could, considering he had a date with a guy!

Sam was real relieved to hear Dean got the message and said there were no strings, that really put him at ease. "I'm sure I won't hate you," he answered, grinning at the Dean's gestures. He got points for charming... a lot of points. And for sexy. And for his dress style, for knowing what to say, and God... could that man dance...

He quickly walked to the couch, before his face gave away any of his thoughts. By the time he sat down and picked up the drink, he noticed the bedroom door was open. He couldn't see much, other than it looked like there was the same color scheme, and a mirror. He could hear Dean moving around, the sound of a draw, and the unfolding of clothes. Trying not to imagine those silky black pants being pushed down Dean's sunkissed body.

Had he just thought sunkissed? Lifting the glass, he drank down to the last drop and guiltily set it down when Dean walked out.

Sam's fingers involuntarily tightened around the empty glass. Hot didn't cover the way Dean looked, and all he was wearing was jeans and a tee. The dark clothing was a perfect contrast to his slightly tanned skin, and it seemed to bring his eyes out even more.

Instinctively catching the wallet with one hand, he grinned back. Never mind that though he wasn't ordinarily a clutz, he damn well could have been right now, the way he'd been staring at Dean. "Ready," he answered, standing up.

As he crossed the room, he halfway wondered whether he should drop his over shirt. Then he decided to forget about it, he'd take Dean at his word about going casual. As he waited outside the door, for Dean to lock it up, the scent of leather mixed with cologne reached him. He gripped the door frame and gave a goofy smile, hoping the guy hadn't noticed him leaning in a little.

Alright Winchester, get your act together, he told himself as they walked toward the elevator. The doors wooshed open, and he stepped inside.

Dean punched the button to the lower level garage. When they stepped out, it was like the entry way to a hotel, with valet people there. One of them exchanged looks with Dean and ran off to get his car. The other cars being brought to their owners were high end vehicles, Range Rovers, Maseratis, Ferarries, and even a Citroen.

Sam moved closer to one of them, and took a look inside, then stepped back next to Dean. "Cherry red 1967 converible corvette," he said. Since he'd been looking at the Ferrari, the perplexed look from Dean was understandable. "Just guessing. Your ride," he shrugged. "I probably should have been less specific, huh?"

Dean could see that the young man definitely approved of his choice in clothing. The way the boy’s eyes practically fell out of his head as he looked him up and down head to toe. He grinned at Sam’s obvious admiration but otherwise pretended not to notice.

Instead he merely nodded and grabbed his keys on the way out of his apartment. Also pretending not to notice how Sam was kind of crowding him while he locked the door, and if he was not mistaken, smelling him. Well, if Sam liked that cologne so much he was going to have to make sure he wore it more often.

The elevator took them down to the garage and Dean gave a nod to one of the waiting valets. He had plenty of cars, but unless he asked for another they all knew which one to bring him.

At Sam’s observation, Dean raised an eyebrow and then laughed, shaking his head.

“Well, you’ve got the year right, at least.” He replied as a sleek pitch black 67 Chevy Impala pulled up to the curb. Dean handed the valet a twenty as he walked around to the driver’s side of the car and got in. He waited for Sam to get in the passenger side before he grinned at the young man and gunned the engine that purred like a predator.

“Corvettes are for pussies.” Dean said before stepping on the gas and tearing out of the garage like a bat out of hell.

***

It was going to be a nice night. The air was cooling as evening fell, but it wouldn’t be chilly. Dean drove with the windows down and the volume of the radio up just on the pleasant side of too loud. Every once in a while he’d glance over at Sam sitting beside him and smile. The young man seemed to be having a good time. At least, he seemed much more relaxed.

It took them about twenty minutes to reach the coast where the restaurant he had in mind was located. Nothing fancy, just as he’d promised Sam. Just a little family owned Italian restaurant he’d discovered a few decades ago and returned to every so often. The food was exquisite but the view overlooking the ocean was pretty spectacular as well. The perfect place for a first ‘date’.

Even as he pulled into the crowded parking lot, he knew that getting a table right away wouldn’t be a problem. Leading Sam inside he discretely passed a hundred to the woman taking names for the waiting list and within five minutes they were seated right near the windows where a truly glorious sunset was spilling through.

“What do you think?” Dean asked after the waitress left to get them their drink orders.

He'd gotten the year right, that was more than he could have hoped for as Dean's "beast" of a car was brought up. The roar of its engine was quite a contrast to the much newer cars with quietly purring engines that other people were getting into. Sam gave his nod of approval, and then almost choked at Dean's joke about vetts being for pussies.

After a few moments, he realized Dean wasn't kidding... he gunned the engine and this was the quickest Sam had ever gotten to the beach.

The small restaurant was packed, but the owners seemed to know Dean and the waitress was falling all over herself to make sure he was happy and satisfied with where they were seated. Sam gave a knowing smile - he knew just how she felt, then looked out the window. The restaurant might have an informal feel to it, but the view... it was as breathtaking as the citiscape view from Dean's apartment, only there was nothing 'city' about this one. The sun gleamed off the ocean, the waves breaking on the flat wide strip of beach. In a distance, the sun was slowly sinking into the water and leaving behind a red-gold wash of color. There were also some sail boats dotting the water, and he could see the pier.

"Hm?" He turned quickly as he hadn't realized the waitress left. "It's beautiful. I love the water," he nodded. "I'm from Kansas. Hadn't seen an ocean until I came here for school," he shrugged. "Now I've gotten certified and go scuba diving anytime I can. I was at Catalina island a couple weeks ago." Before he knew it, Sam was telling Dean about his encounters with octopuses and a shark, and getting separated from his diving group one stormy day.

When the time the waitress brought them their drinks, he gave an embarrassed chuckle. "I haven't looked at the menu yet," and as soon as she left, he looked at Dean,"didn't realize how much I was talking. I'm not usually this chatty, I swear. What do you do for fun?" He pulled the menu over ans started to flip through it.

Dean grinned at the look of almost awe on the young man’s face and realized Sam was so captivated by the view that he hadn’t even heard him. Dean had to admit. He was a little captivated as well, but not by the view and he kind of liked that Sam was so distracted that he didn’t even notice the way Dean’s eyes drank in the sight of him. The young man would probably only get shy and embarrassed again if he did.

Beautiful… yes he was.

As Sam went on to chat away about some of the things he liked doing… scuba diving, of all things, he’d never have imagined that… Dean couldn’t help but smile. He liked the fact that the boy was obviously beginning to relax around him, and this time without the effects of alcohol. Well, not much alcohol anyway.

It was really too bad that Dean couldn’t offer to join the young man in something he obviously enjoyed doing so much. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t like the ocean, or water in general, but salt water and demons didn’t exactly mesh well. He probably couldn’t even risk going to the beach with the young man the way his skin would sizzle and burn if he got even a little bit of salt water on him. Hell, that close to the water he’d be uncomfortable even from the salt in the air from the ocean. This was about as close as he dared to get.

Dean chuckled a little as well when Sam mentioned that he hadn’t even looked at the menu, not that he really minded at all. He liked listening to the boy talk. It was like… hearing his brother’s voice again so happy and carefree. Samuel could talk his ear off and Dean always loved sitting by his bedside and listening to him go on and on about his latest invention or whatever like he would never run out of breath. Dean liked it… sometimes he feared that the memory of his brother alive was fading from him, like everything else had. His sharpest memories of hearing his brother screaming, dying in agony…

“Me? Well, I’m afraid I don’t spend a lot of the time near the ocean. Hydrophobic, I’m afraid.” Dean replied, giving the young man a slightly sheepish smile before he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“My job keeps me busy, but it also allows me to travel quite a bit. England, Germany, Italy, Australia, being a few of the places I’ve been this year alone. I like art… and music, I play the guitar. Some weekends I am invited to high class ritzy parties and others I enjoy spending a Sunday at home watching a good football game and drinking beer. I’ll admit I also like clubs, like Dante’s. It’s nice sometimes to just let all of your inhibitions go and enjoy life to the fullest, don’t you think?”

He liked Dean's voice. A lot. And how crazy was that? To be captivated by the sound of someone speaking? But there was no doubt about it, the low, husky tones coming from Dean seemed to send tingles of excitement through him. Besides, it wasn't as if he could forget how deep the man's voice could get when he was turned on or trying to persuade. Just thinking of the things he'd said on the dancefloor, the way he'd said them had Sam having to force himself to breath.

He'd never gone anywhere. California, that was his first trip away from home. Yet Dean had been everywhere. As he listened, he asked a few questions about the countries Dean had gone to, and then stupidly mentioned he didn't even have a passport. Dean didn't seem to think it odd, or didn't make him feel like a country bumpkin... no, he was doing to good of a job on himself!

Guitar? Well now that wasn't something he'd expected. His flashed a grin as he started to ask whether Dean sang too, but then Dean casually brought up his clubbing, and Dante's, and to top it off, almost had Sam swallowing his tongue with his talk of 'letting go of inhibitions'.

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, but forced himself to meet jade eyes. "You mean us... me... that night?" Yeah, Dean had been more general, but Sam wasn't a complete idiot. He licked his lips. "I had fun but..." he ran his hand through his hair. "That's not really me. I don't..." he shook his head. "Don't get out that much, or when I do, I don't, you know?" He couldn't make himself finish that sentence and boy was he glad to see the waitress on her way back to get their orders.

Dean couldn’t help but be amused when Sam started to blush and he hadn’t even really been trying to get the young man to blush this time. Sam really was adorable when he got all flustered and embarrassed. He could just imagine how the beautiful boy would look spread out and naked in his bed, his whole body flushed an enticing pink with both embarrassment as well as arousal..

When the boy asked him to ‘clarify’ if he’d been talking about the two of them that night at Dante’s, Dean merely smiled and shrugged. Wasn’t normally like that? Like what? Slutty? Dean chuckled a little to himself. Yeah, he had pretty much guessed that on his own. If the boy wasn’t a virgin, Dean would be very surprised. The young man didn’t seem to be a prude, but he was definitely… repressed.

How could a young man as stunning as Sam looked be so unsure of himself and his looks? He must understand how attractive he was. The affect he had on others… certainly he had to have had offers of sex before from both men and women. But Sam behaved as though he’d never had this kind of attention before.

“I understand. But there’s nothing wrong with relaxing and just cutting loose every once in a while, you know? You should try it more often. You’d probably like it. life’s too short to spend it worrying what other people think.” Dean replied, grinning a little at the young man before he turned his attention to the waitress.

“I’ll have the lobster ravioli with Alfredo sauce.” Dean said without even looking at the menu then looked at Sam. “You should definitely try the Alfredo, they make it fresh here.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief when Dean didn't make fun of him or say something that would get him uptight. Dean was right, he did worry a lot about what other people would think about him. Like that night on the dance floor, he'd wanted to do more, but he kept worrying about his friends seeing, or someone snapping a pic, or what his parents would have thought if they were alive or... well the list was endless.

He listened to Dean put in his order and make his suggestion. "I like tomato sauce--"

"Marinara," the waitress corrected.

"Yeah. I'll have angel hair pasta with marinara." He gave her a smile, then looked back at Dean after she left. "But I'll try a bit of yours. Unless you're not into the sharing thing," he added quickly, realizing Dean wasn't some college kid, and he might not like splitting. Then he thought about how it might look to eat from the same plate, kinda intimate. Was he giving off to many of those signals. Oh God, he wished he could shut off his mind and do what Dean said, just enjoy the moment.

He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, deciding right there and then that the drinks he'd been given at Dante's and the Dean had mixed up for him were much better. He felt Dean's gaze on him and quickly tried to cover by taking another sip, this time keeping his face neutral.

"So guitar. Do you sing too?" he asked, thinking how sexy Dean's raspy voice might be when accompanied by music. He remembered only too well how much it had affected him when they'd been dancing, and Dean's voice had dropped and octave. "I used to do a little drumming." Maybe they had something in common, something more than this... this crazy heat between Sam felt burning between them.

Dean couldn't help but smile when Sam decided to order something different. That was his Samuel, always wanting to do things his own way. The smile slipped from Dean's face for a second with that thought because this man, of course, wasn't his Samuel… couldn't be… Samuel's soul was far beyond his reach. Surely gone to heaven. Beyond his reach forever…

No matter how much this young man reminded him of Samuel, surely it could not truly be his brother.

"I don't mind sharing." Dean reassured the young man, his smile returning. Then he was a bit surprised when Sam asked him if he could sing. As a matter of fact, he could. A little off key but not so much most would complain. Samuel had never complained…

He had often sung his little brother to sleep, singing the boy some of the songs that their mother had sung to Dean. It often made his heart ache that Samuel had never been able to hear them sung in their mother's beautiful voice.

Sometimes Dean still sung them… when he was alone. Afraid perhaps he'd forget them if he didn't. But he hadn't sung for anyone else since…

Dean took drink from his own wine glass before he sat back a little and began to sing his brother's favorite lullaby.

"Where dips the rocky highland
Of sleuth wood in the lake
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats
There we've hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than he can understand…"

When he had finished the last of the lyrics he was a bit surprised to hear some light applause from some of the tables next to theirs. Dean laughed and raised his glass, acknowledging the applause, then took another drink from his glass. Hoping he had not just embarrassed the young man across from him too terribly.


ooc note: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7TkyxVIfuk

Sam was completely entranced. His lips parted, he leaned forward as if to catch every word, his eyes searching Dean's, trying to see clear to his soul. The lyrics were both strange and wonderful, and a little creepy, though he didn't understand all of it. He tried to commit some of it to memory... something about it, something about how Dean was singing it... teased his memories. It was like he should know what came next, and like Dean's voice had some strange power over him.

He felt a blush steal along his cheeks with the knowledge that it looked like he was being serenaded, and that others had noticed and were listening in. He had to admit though, it felt good. Made him feel special in a way he hadn't ever before. And yeah, sure, he wasn't unrealistic. He got that Dean was showering his attention on him for a reason, and that he probably did the same for any other 'date' he took out. He was just that kind of guy, having the knack to make the other person feel good. But that was okay, Sam would just enjoy the feeling... and he did.

The way Dean sang, his low raspy voice, the way he didn't look away from him... it had Sam's stomach muscles tightening. One part of him was thinking if Dean sang that to him when he was sleeping, it might take the nightmares away. Another part told him, if that voice were singing to him, if Dean were anywhere near him when he was in bed, there'd be no sleeping going on. The man was just that... sexy.

His eyes fell to Dean's lips, following his tongue as he moistened his lips and continued to the end of the song. Sam smiled, his smile broadening at the sound of clapping. "You do sing," he nodded, "very well. I... I liked it, the song. Gonna have to use my google-fu on it, it's kinda..." he waved his hand around, "familiar, but not." Shrugging, and hoping that made sense, he realized he'd been leaning forward, and sat back. "Maybe from some movie, or something."

He saw something in Dean's eyes. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt like a question silently coming at him. He wished he had an answer, but he didn't even know what Dean was asking. Sam wanted to laugh at himself, his flights of fancy. Dean was probably just looking at him, simple as that. "My mom wanted me to be in a church choir when I was a kid." He took his glass, and finished the contents, then set it down. Didn't taste so bad anymore, so that was good. "They threw me out," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. "Can't hold a tune."

Though Dean could see the light flush on Sam’s cheeks the young man seemed far from embarrassed by the attention, in fact he seemed pleased. Though Dean couldn’t help feeling slightly… disappointed. He couldn’t deny that he’d hoped the young man would find the song… familiar… but that didn’t seem to be the case. Sam had seemed almost entranced by the melody, much like his brother had been every time Dean had sung it to him, but the young man did not seem to find it familiar in any way.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Dean replied anyway, giving the young man a smile despite his disappointment which of course wasn’t Sam’s fault. It was Dean who was being ridiculous. No matter how much this young man reminded him of Samuel, he wasn’t…

But as Sam went on, Dean froze and he couldn’t help but wonder if the young man had actually said what he thought he said or if he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Well, hell might have changed him but Dean wasn’t insane… yet. At least not insane enough to be hearing things and his ears were working fine.

Though Sam’s face hadn’t betrayed any familiarity with the song… could it be?

Dean chuckled softly when Sam mentioned how he could not sing but it was actually very difficult for him right now to keep that calm façade in place when his mind was a whirlwind of questions. The first and foremost was how could this be? Was it really Samuel? His brother’s soul reborn? How? Why now? After so long…

“I don’t think it is from a movie. My mother used to sing it to me as a child. When she passed away, I sung it to my brother. It was his favorite lullaby.” Dean finally said, throwing caution to the wind. If the song was familiar to Sam…

"I don't think its from a movie either," Sam easily agreed. "I don't know where I know it from. But your mom, she must have a good voice because that song... definitely hard to sing." He played with the stem of his empty glass, which the waitress came over and refilled for him. "You have a brother?" He bit his lip, and raised his eyes. "Sorry about your mom. I lost my parents last year," he swallowed the lump that threatened to rise in his throat. "I don't have any brothers or sisters."

He wished he did. It was real weird being all alone in the world, with no family. He tried not to think about it, always pushing it from his mind. "I have an uncle but he's not..." He felt tears sting his eyes and was very glad when the waitress brought their salads and an appetizer. He hadn't even realized Dean had ordered it.

Forcing his darker thoughts out of his head, he forced a smile and was determined to have fun. The man sitting across from him was 'fun' incarnate, so it wouldn't be so hard. "Pass me the salt?" As he took the shaker, their fingers brushed. A jolt of heat tingled up his arm, and his eyes snapped up to Dean's for a second.

Looking down, he salted the salad, and reached for a mozzarella stick, which h dipped into the tomato sauce and took a bite. Just his luck, not only was the cheese so hot he had to suck some air into his mouth to cool it off, but the hot melted cheese pulled into a string and he probably looked ridiculous twisting the string around the part of the stick remaining in his hand before managing to cut it with his front teeth. "M'sorry," he mumbled, wiping his mouth.

Dean smiled fondly at the young man across from him when Sam mentioned his mother’s voice, and he found himself repeating the words he’d once told Samuel so long ago.

“She had the most beautiful voice in the world, like an angel. I wish you could have heard her sing.” He said softly, though Dean’s smile faded somewhat when Sam questioned him about his brother. It was so ironic that this boy would ask such a question. Especially when Dean was starting to truly believe that the spirit of his long dead brother might actually be sitting across from him right now.

When Sam mentioned that he had lost his parents as well, had no brothers or sisters, Dean couldn’t deny he was pleased by that. No family meant that the young man could slip off the face of the earth and few would probably notice, if any. That would make things easier…

Though the shimmer in the young man’s eyes told him he’d definitely hit on a sensitive subject talking about family. Just as well, the subject was just as sensitive to him and Dean did not particularly wish to speak of his family either.

When the waitress brought them their appetizers Dean smiled as the young man dug right in and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the young man’s difficulty with the food. At Sam’s apology, Dean merely snorted and waved it off.

“You need to learn to stop apologizing for everything.” Dean said, reaching for the plate and grabbing a stick for himself and making a big show of taking a bite and then trying to stretch the cheese as far as he could. Tilting his head back and chewing the long string of cheese all the way to the source before popping the remainder of the stick in his mouth.

“Told you they had great food here.” He said with his mouth full.

Sam smiled, then laughed at Dean, knocking his knee lightly against the other man's as he recognized that Dean was half mocking and half putting him at ease. Course he was pretty sure that he hadn't looked half that sexy struggling with his cheese stick. Dean on the other hand, hell... he practically made love to it before sucking it inside him mouth.

The effect was ruined by Dean talking around the food in his mouth, but Sam decided it only made Dean more endearing... a regular guy.

"Yeah, it's really great," he agreed. They talked a little bit about their favorite restaurants and Sam was surprised byt Dean's fast food choices. After he gave a couple examples, Sam shook his head. "Seriously? That stuff will kill you. There are much better, yet fast food, places to go." He tossed out a couple, adding, "green is good for you."

Their food arrived, and Sam didn't know if it was the wine or the company, but he really did unwind. He even speared food from Dean's plate, reminding the guy he'd agreed to share, then nodded. "It's good, but mine is better." Instinctively, he knew that Dean had been surprised that he hadn't ordered what Dean suggested, and that he'd liked that. Sam could see how many people would agree with whatever Dean said. Hell, he even often had to fight against doing just that, or wanting to please him for some reason.

He put his fork and knife down. "I hated the food, can't you tell?" He put his hand over his glass when the waitress came to give him more wine. "Lost count. You're gonna think I'm some sorta lush." Running his hand through his long bangs and pushing them back, he asked. "So what's your favorite movie or book, and why?"

As the meal wore on Dean decided that Sam was turning out to be quite entertaining. There were few mortals in this world that Dean could say that about. True, they had their uses and many of them did entertain him… for short periods of time. But Sam was different.

Surely the fact that Sam reminded him so much of Samuel contributed to his interest in the young man. But the more he learned about Sam… just Sam… the more Dean was sure the mortal would have caught his interest even if not for that uncanny resemblance. That the young man would have kept his interest as more than just a fuck toy he would have fun making scream in pleasure and then pain before he broke him…

No. That would not be Sam’s fate… at least, not as long as he had his suspicions. For the first time Dean wondered what he would do if those suspicions proved true? What if this young man truly was his brother Samuel reincarnated? What would he do? Did that at all change the desire he had to possess the young man, to fuck that beautiful boy in every way possible?

No… it did not. At one time Dean knew the thought of bedding his sweet innocent brother would have horrified him but… he was different now. If it truly was Samuel… that only made Dean desire him more. Need him more… His brother… the one thing in this world he could say he loved… if the twisted emotion inside of him could even be called love. Surely it was as close to love as a demon could feel.

He wanted the young man. He wanted to take him. To claim the young man in every possible way and never let him go again. Sam would be his… forever… nothing would ever take Samuel away from him again.

They talked long after the meal was finished. He answered Sam’s questions and for the first time in a long while Dean actually spoke honestly about himself… well, as honestly as he could without sending the young man running terrified from him. But he wanted Sam to… like him… him. Sam seemed to… and that made him happy.

When the waitress came back and asked if they wanted anything else, Dean nodded.

“Bring us a slice of your chocolate cream pie, two forks.” Dean told the waitress, before turning to Sam with a grin. “We can’t leave before you try the pie. It’s to die for.”

"You're gonna share? You sure you're not going to try to wrestle me for it?" he asked, having seen Dean practically make love to his food as he ate. Course it belatedly struck him that two forks, one plate, was intimate, and then he'd inserted his foot in his mouth with the wrestling comment. "I mean... you know what I mean," he said, laughing at himself and pulling his gaze away.

He was really full and had eaten everything off his plate. "It was really good, good Choice Dean," he said. It was true, he'd felt very comfortable, and the wine had mellowed him, taken the edge off.

They talked for a while longer, then the pie came. There was no denying it was good, but holy crap... watching Dean's mouth wrap around the fork, as he closed his eyes and practically moaned, had Sam's stomach clenching. The dreams, the needs, they weren't forgotten. Oh God... he was going to be tortured all over again, and he hadn't even been rubbing against the guy like he had when they'd been at that club.

When Dean opened his eyes, Sam guiltily pushed his fork into his won mouth, hoping that his stare hadn't been noticed. Unfortunately, he had the feeling not much passed this man's notice, though he looked laid back and careless. Chewing, he swallowed and licked the pie off his lips, setting his fork down. "Why do I have the feeling this is called the Devil's delight or something like that?"

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s ‘wrestling’ comment, though more for the younger man’s reaction to his own words. As though he had just thought of something very ‘naughty’ and Dean couldn’t deny he was curious as to what that was. Sex most likely. Maybe chocolate cream smeared all over the young man’s body while Dean licked it away… that was definitely a very tempting image. A much finer desert than the one he was about to enjoy… maybe soon he could enjoy the desert he truly wanted. If Sam’s thoughts kept drifting in that direction perhaps sooner than Dean had hoped.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Dean replied, sitting back and admiring the beautiful man across from him. Watching the way Sam’s lips carefully formed every word and imagining how those lips would feel on him. Imagining how Sam’s voice would sound pitched lower, crying out in passion, his head thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat while Dean thrust into him.

Yes, Dean knew exactly what he was doing when the pie came, making a show of practically licking the shine off the fork between bites. The sounds of enjoyment he made practically pornographic, and he was pleased to note that he had Sam’s rapt attention.

Dean looked up at the young man through hooded eye lashes, grinning around his fork before he pulled it from his mouth, licking his lips. Laughing low at Sam’s words.

“Maybe I should suggest to the owner he change the name.” Dean replied, and once the pie had been polished off he pulled out his wallet almost regrettably. He had enjoyed the dinner with Sam, very much, and now it was over. Dean wondered if he could convince the younger man to join him for that movie… perhaps at his apartment rather than the theater.

“So, movie now? There’s a theater not far… or we could go back to my place. My TV has a great surround sound.” Dean suggested as casually as he could, afraid any sexual innuendo would send Sam scurrying.

Sam was pretty sure that he hadn't had much left in his wallet the night he'd left it at Dante's. It would be worse to pull it out and not be able to pay half, better if he just took care of the bill next time. Next time? Yeah... he wanted there to be a next time, despite all his worries, all the pressure this put on him, all the ways it made him feel. The last few nights had been hell, thinking about this man and being in some sort of fevered state. This was better, seeing him in the flesh.

He wasn't ready for the night to end, he really wasn't. Lips pulling into a smile, he waited for the waitress to take Dean's credit card, before talking again.

"Movie, sure. You do have a really nice TV," he nodded, his stomach tightening at the thought of being completely alone with Dean. Yet, now that he thought about it, he really didn't want to be in an atmosphere where they couldn't talk at all. And yeah, maybe he wanted something between zero and a hundred, a little kissing wouldn't be so bad, would it? His mouth burned at just the thought, though course it was easy to be brave here, where it wasn't gonna happen.

"I'd like that, but ah..." he gave a one shouldered shrug and made a face. "I have to leave by midnight. Not a Cinderella thing," he raised his hand, cheeks flushing slightly at the thought that Dean might think something like that. "Buses... they stop running at 12:30." It had taken him forever to get home after Dante's by foot, with all the weaving and drunkeness.

Dean smiled broadly when Sam agreed to come home with him. He was actually a little bit surprised that the boy agreed so readily. But he did seem a lot more relaxed around him than he did when Sam first arrived at his apartment.

“Great.” He replied. Hoping his obvious excitement wouldn’t make Sam run for the hills. But Dean promised himself he would keep his hands to himself… mostly. A little kissing and petting if Sam proved to be in the mood would be nice. It would be even nicer if the boy gave him any indication that he wanted to take it further.

Though when Sam added ‘but’ Dean’s excitement diminished somewhat until the young man gave his reason. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at that, grinning again at the young man again.

“You know, Cinderella, Prince Charming has his own coach he’d be happy to take you home in after the ball.” He teased the young man, giving him a playful wink. Hopefully Sam would agree. Not only would he possibly be able to convince the young man to stay the night if he wasn’t worrying about catching the bus home, but if he did take Sam home, either tonight or in the morning, he’d be able to see where the young man lived.

Maybe if Sam would even invite him into his place, where he might feel more comfortable to take things further. When the waitress returned with his credit card slip, Dean gave her a healthy tip and signed it, then stood up.

“Shall we?”

Cinderella, yeah, he'd asked for that one. Sam smiled back and answered. "I just didn't want to inconvenience Prince Charming by having him come out of his castle so late at night. But if you're offering, sure." And yeah, he'd just called Dean Prince Charming. Either he was getting comfortable in the guy's presence or he's already had too much to drink, but he was feeling okay. More than okay.

As they walked out and headed for the car, he bumped shoulders with Dean then looked at him. "Thanks. For dinner. It was really good." He meant the whole package, the food and the company, and knew that Dean probably got that. "And the song, I really liked that you sang." He said the latter right before he got into the car, before he could change his mind. It was an unforgettable moment, that was for sure. Something he'd never foreseen, but then a lot of things were happening with this guy that Sam would never have foreseen. Just a short time ago, Sam had seen that as a negative, but now... now maybe he was changing his mind.

Dean knew his way around, it looked like, since he was taking back streets and avoiding traffic. Sam stole glances at him, and knew he was wearing a smile that he couldn't seem to shake. It was like he knew he was on the cusp of something, something exciting, something that both thrilled and scared him. Usually, he was sensible if anything, and he'd listen to the voice in his head telling him to proceed with caution, but something about Dean was making that impossible.

He couldn't say what they talked about, but they were at the valet sooner than he thought possible. Forcing himself not to tense up, remembering how much fun he'd had at dinner, he walked into the elevator and watched Dean punch the button for his penthouse level. Very quickly, he was following Dean inside the large living room, and taking his jacket off.

Sam’s agreement to let him take the young man home had the demon grinning back in pleasure. No, it wouldn’t be an inconvenience. Because Dean was certain that he wouldn’t have to ‘leave his castle’ that late, at least, not tonight. As comfortable as the young man seemed right now Dean was certain he would have little trouble convincing Sam to stay the night with him.

Maybe after they had a few more drinks while they were watching the movie together Dean could pretend to be a little drunk, and surely the young man wouldn’t want him driving in such a condition. Sam would even think it was his idea to stay the night, and judging by the pheromones coming off of the young man it was bound to be a very good night. If Dean had to slip a little something into the young man’s drink to encourage that… well, Dean certainly wasn’t above that, though he’d prefer not to.

“You’re welcome.” Dean replied warmly to Sam’s thanks for dinner, and chuckled a little when the young man hastily thanked him for the song as well.

“I guess I’ll just have to serenade you some more then.” He said, giving the young man a playful wink before he started the car and drove them back to his apartment. A smile pulled at his lips whenever he felt Sam’s gaze turn towards him on the way. He definitely liked the fact that Sam couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him for very long.

Soon they’d arrived at his building and they took the elevator up to his floor. Sam seemed a little more nervous now that they were alone again rather than at the crowded restaurant, but Dean hoped that the young man would relax soon enough. His eyes drifted appreciatively over the young man’s tall frame as he watched Sam remove his coat as Dean did the same, tossing his leather jacket casually over one of his chairs.

“Just throw that anywhere. Feel free to look through the DVD’s on the rack, and we can watch whatever you want. I’m gonna go make some popcorn and grab us some beers.” Dean said as he walked past the young man on his way to the kitchen.

"Popcorn and beers... m'kay." Sam's gaze followed Dean until the guy disappeared into the kitchen. He was like some 'dream date,' did he even know it? At times, Sam thought the guy was so damned smooth, some of it had to be practiced. But at other times, like when he broke out in song, it had seemed completely spontaneous. Special even, like it had been meant only for him. It was that feeling, of being special, that stuck with Sam. He rolled his eyes at himself. Just because he'd lost his parents and wasn't the center of anyone's world anymore, didn't mean that anyone who paid him attention thought that highly of him.

Still, he was still smiling about the song as he went through the numerous DVDs on the rack. He couldn't make up his mind between action and something romantic. What would Dean want?

Just like that, he flashed to the dance floor. Hands roaming all over his body. Lips brushing over his, kissing him. Words, suggestive and to the point. Sam's heart lurched, and he quickly reached for an action movie that would have a lot of explosions. He looked at the entertainment set's setup, and then popping the DVD in, had the surround sound going. Putting the movie on pause, he went to sit down.

There was a moment of indecision, but he took the sofa. He knew they'd probably kiss, and the thought sent butterflies to his stomach. A little kissing never hurt anyone, plus he'd already kissed Dean, right? Nervous, he wiped his palms over his jean glad thighs and took a deep breath just as a sound had him turning to see Dean return. His pulse racing, he gave a smile. "I picked 'Die Hard.' Hope that's okay."

Fresh popcorn was Dean's favorite. While the microwavable stuff was ok, nothing could really top the real thing. So Dean decided he'd make Sam some, it would take a little bit longer, but it would be worth it. It would also give the young man a chance to relax.

So Dean took out the pan and the oil and started heating it up. He took down the seeds and started melting the butter in the microwave so it would be ready. Once the oil was heated he poured the seeds into the pan and soon the popcorn was popping merrily.

He took down a large bowl from the cupboard and filled it up, drizzling the melted butter over the popcorn. Taking a few bites, Dean decided it was perfect, and grabbed a couple beers from the fridge on the way out.

Dean gave the young man a grin as he re-entered the living room and handed him one of the cold beers.

"Perfect." He replied, sitting down on the couch next to Sam. Close, but not too close, and holding out the bowl for him.

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the brew and searching Dean's face. He really didn't seem to mind the movie that Sam had picked out, which was a little bit of a relief. He knew it wouldn't be a big deal, but it felt like it to him. Hitting the start button on the remote, he set it down and settled back, glancing at the bowl Dean was offering.

"I'm really full still," he said, but once he looked into brilliant jade eyes looking at him expectantly, couldn't resist the offer. Reaching into the bowl, he took a handful of the popcorn and brought it to his mouth. It was just the right texture, and buttery like he liked it. "Better than at the movies," he said with a nod of approval. "So cooking's another one of your hidden talents. You put the rest of us guys to shame," he said.

Dragging his gaze away, he started to watch the movie. He had trouble concentrating, and that okay, because he'd already seen it a few time. Without looking over, he reached for more popcorn and his fingers brushed against Dean's. The electrical thrill that ran up his arm had him biting his lip. He stole a glance at the guy from under his lashes, then looked back at the t.v. screen. "Watching this around Christmas used to be a tradition in my family."

"There's always room for popcorn." Dean replied, grinning, when Sam reached over to take a handful from the bowl even though he'd said he was full. When the young man praised that it was better than the movies, and remarked how he was a good cook, Dean chuckled.

"Well, popcorn isn't that hard. But maybe I'll have to cook for you sometime." Dean offered, letting his eyes linger for a long time on Sam before finally forcing himself to turn towards the movie instead. Not wanting the young man to start to feel uncomfortable under his regard. Even though just sitting this close to Sam was practically wreaking havoc on his senses. The young man's scent… the desire to touch… almost overwhelming.

When Sam's fingers brushed his own as the young man reached for more popcorn Dean's breath hitched a little. Fuck. Just a touch, a spark, but even a single spark could ignite a forest fire.

He knew if he leaned over to kiss the boy now his lips would taste like butter, underneath that probably the faint taste of beer, and under that the taste of Sam himself. Dean wanted nothing more than to lean over, pull Sam to him, and search out that taste he knew to be so exquisite it bordered on the forbidden. Forbidden fruit… always the sweetest…

He wanted to run his hands all over the young man's body, press their bodies together, feel Sam's heat, map out every inch of his skin with his fingertips and then his tongue. Feel the young man's muscles clench in desire as Sam clung to him…

When Sam spoke again, Dean looked at him, and this time he knew he wasn't going to be able to look away. He studied Sam's profile, the curve of his cheek, the outline of his lips. Dean's tongue darted out to moisten his own lips as his hand lifted to brush a lock of hair behind Sam's ear. His fingertips trailing from Sam's ear down his neck to his fluttering pulse.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Dean asked.

For a long, heart stopping moment, Sam thought he felt the weight of Dean's gaze. He held his breath, telling himself he was wrong, that he was imagining it, that it was wishful thinking... or paranoia, or something. He kept his eyes glued on the t.v., trying to concentrate even as his emotions went wild. Don't act stupid. Don't act naive, he told himself over and over. Even when his mind was telling him he was way out of his league, that he should run, that he should hide, his body ... his heart was fighting those thoughts. Just exactly what the hell would be wrong with getting a little more of what the guy had offered him on the dance floor? Nothing. And maybe a little more kissing would get it out of his system. Sure it had been the most exciting thing that ever happened to him, but he'd been dead drunk. Maybe now, it wouldn't be as hot... it would be something he could get over.


Yeah right. Just like he'd thought maybe he'd been exaggerating how good looking the guy he'd danced with had been. Then Dean had opened the door and Sam knew, if anything, the reverse was true. Dean was even more handsome than he'd remembered. And then he'd turned on the charm, and Sam found it impossible to say no to anything.


He was mulling his thoughts over when he felt Dean's fingers in his hair, and turned wide eyed, pulse racing as he met intense jade eyes focused only on him. Speechless, Sam could hardly breathe and couldn't turn away. Heat practically roiled from Dean's eyes as he asked his question.


Sam's gut clenched. "Beautiful?" He shook his head slowly, and told the truth. "No. I'm just... regular," he said with a half shrug, but not feeling in the least casual. It had surprised him, the first time Dean searched him out for a dance. It still surprised him now, that a man that looked like Dean, that had everything Dean had, would look twice at him. If he'd thought the statement would ease the sudden tension, it only thickened it, making his heart beat that much the faster.

Dean merely smiled warmly at the young man’s denial.

It didn’t surprise him that Sam thought he was only ‘regular’. It was obvious that the boy had little, if any, confidence when it came to his appearance, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. It was almost as if he was in denial of the fact he was attractive, and he wondered if Sam went out of his way to appear less so. Well, if he did, he failed miserably at that. There wasn’t a man or woman alive who could possibly say that Sam was hard on the eyes, and the demon honestly couldn’t believe that no one had ever passed the young man such a compliment before.

But since Sam definitely didn’t protest his touch, Dean let his fingers trail to the back of the young man’s neck, cupping it gently as he leaned in closer.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He whispered when he was close enough for Sam to feel the warmth of his breath on his lips. Then he did what he’d been wanting to do all damned night. Dean kissed Sam.

As Dean started to lean in, Sam sucked his breath in and held it. It was like time stretched, like he'd frozen in place as Dean inched closer. Sam's gaze fell to Dean's lips, so soft and full, so damned sensuous. And he knew how they felt, how they could tease and taunt and make Sam want to give everything up, how effortless Dean made it seem.

His eyes snapped back up to Dean's as Dean spoke, lips parting instinctively as Dean's mouth descended over his. At the first touch of their lips, his mouth tingled. Then he felt Dean pull him closer, and didn't resist. This time, Dean's tongue moved past his lips ad inside his mouth. Heart slamming against his chest, Sam hesitantly slid his tongue along Dean's, giving a soft murmur as he was flooded with intense sensations.

Placing his hands on Dean's thighs, he leaned in, tentatively kissing Dean back. He was nervous as hell, so his fingers bit into the other man's thighs until he realized what he was doing and eased up. It felt good, exciting. His entire body was humming... vibrating, his senses had sharpened and he was so damned aware of the man whose house he was in, who had taken him to dinner, who seemed to have some sort of power or hold over him. "Mmm." He didn't even realize he'd moaned until he heard the sound and his eyes fluttered open. He started to pull back a little, then pressed his mouth harder against Dean's and opened for him.

Dean sighed in pleasure when he felt Sam’s lips part beneath his own. Taking it as an invitation, whether it was intentional or not, to let his tongue push past and into the wet heat of the young man’s mouth beyond.

So good… Just as sweet as he remembered, just as intoxicating, and more addicting than any drug. It was so hard to restrain himself, to keep from merely ravishing the young man in his arms, after being nearly tortured by his unsatisfied desires for this boy. But he kept his control, barely, kept the kiss slow and easy… for now. There would be time for that… soon… if Dean got his way.

As his tongue carefully explored and tangled lightly with Sam’s, he drew the young man even closer to him. He set aside the bowl of popcorn so that there was nothing between them as he slipped his now free hand around the young man’s waist. He could hear Sam’s heart beating, so fast and hard, he could practically taste his arousal on his lips… for him.

When he felt Sam’s fingers dig into his thigh, Dean moaned softly in spite of himself, trapping the younger man’s answering moan in his own mouth. If Sam wasn’t careful he was going to break the fragile control the demon had over his desires…

Then Sam started to pull back and Dean was a fraction of a second away from tightening his fingers in the young man’s hair, preventing him… but then Sam all but melted in his arms, kissing him harder, pressing closer of his own will, and Dean was lost.

Dean moaned louder in approval, letting Sam take some of the lead, letting the young man explore his mouth as he had Sam’s, as Dean’s hands began to worm their way beneath the layers of the young man’s clothes. Dean’s hand moved up underneath Sam’s shirt to caress along the smooth flesh of his back, exploring every rippling muscle with his fingertips, then around to Sam’s stomach. Sliding along the taunt abs and well chiseled chest until his fingers found one flat nipple and began to tease it, feeling it harden beneath his touch.

As Sam pushed his tongue past Dean's lips and along his tongue, his heart rammed against his chest, the sound reverberating in his ears. His mouth trembled slightly against Dean's, but he pushed on, exploring the depths of Dean's mouth. With each slide of his tongue, he tasted liquor and Dean, with each heavy breath, he drew in the man's unique scent. It was intoxication. It was exciting. It had Sam in knots in ways he'd never be able to explain.

Just as he got more brave, tangling his tongue with Dean's, he felt Dean's hand move under his shirt. His stomach muscles tensed under those palms exploring his flesh. Warmth spread in waves from every point that Dean touched him, had Sam pressing closer, gripping Dean's thighs harder once again. Somehow, he found himself deepening the kiss, becoming more adventurous and demanding a little more. This man did that to him, made him want... no need to go beyond his own boundaries.

Then Dean's hand found his nipple and that simple touch sent a jolt of heat straight to Sam's cock. A moan of pure need broke from Sam. His brain stopped, but his body didn't. He pushed his palms up Dean's firm thighs, over his stomach and chest, then put his arms around his shoulder, practically launching himself into the man's arms. Tortured by searing heat, he pressed against Dean, moving restlessly, kissing him, seeking something... needing something... burning up. "Oh God... Dean," he murmured against the man's lips.

When Sam all but launched himself into his arms, seeking more of his touch, more Dean was certainly willing to give, the demon couldn’t help but moan in desire. Sucking on the boy’s tongue in his mouth and feeling the shudder of pleasure pass through him, as though Dean had touched him with an electrical current. He drew the young man into his lap, letting Sam straddle his thighs. He felt the hard press of the boy’s growing arousal against is stomach and moaned again.

His fingers continued to play gently with the sensitive peaks on the young man’s chest, the boy was so damned responsive, every light pinch or tug on his nipple practically making Sam squirm. His other hand continued to roam everywhere along the young man’s body, growing bolder by the second.

Caressing through the young man’s hair, down his neck, shoulders, and back all the way to his buttocks in long sweeps. At first only letting his fingertips brush over the swell of the young man’s ass, giving the strong muscles a light squeeze, and then a firmer one. Pulling Sam closer to him, letting the boy rut against him if he wished, wanting to feel the young man come completely undone in his arms.

Almost reluctantly Dean broke their kiss so he could begin tasting other parts of the young man’s body. His lips moving down along the length of Sam’s jaw to his neck, his tongue swiping out to lick along the young man’s throbbing pulse. Moaning feeling it pounding so hard and fast beneath his mouth. He began licking, then sucking hard on the tender skin, determinedly leaving his mark on the pale flesh.

Sam was his now, whether or not the young man knew it. He would always be his…

The instant Dean pulled him over his lap, Sam plastered himself against Dean. He knew this was totally out of character for himself, that he should take things slow and easy, that the few kisses he'd been prepared for had long been collected, and this was much more than a kissing session. But he couldn't help himself, he really couldn't. His body was a thousand points of need, and he didn't know how to deal with it, this, on his own. So he pressed and rubbed almost wantonly against Dean's hard body, his breathing steadily growing more labored.

Dean's hands roaming over him had Sam squirming even more, needing more. He was so desperate, he wasn't even hiding the fact he was rubbing his now achingly hard dick up against Dean's stomach, his back arching as Dean's hands went over his ass. No one had touched him like this before. No one but Dean, that night...

When Dean broke the kiss, a sound of protest left Sam's mouth. About to complain, to insist on more kissing, he felt a new kind of heat invading his body when Dean's mouth moved over his jaw, and oh God... his throat. He whimpered, grinding his hips harder against Dean. He knew he should be doing something, touching Dean, but he could barely sit still... barely think.

"Oh God, Dean..." his fingers bit into the other man's shoulders as Dean sucked the sensitive flesh of his throat into his mouth, then licked it better. "Dreamed... dreamed like this, ached like this for days..." he admitted, unable to stop the stem of words. "Not usually like this. Don't know what you do to me, fuck..."

At Sam’s words Dean moaned and sucked harder on the young man’s throat, nipping lightly with his teeth, and then soothing the sting with his tongue. Both of his hands settled on Sam’s ass and squeezed, pulling the boy against him, silently encouraging.

When Dean finally released the patch of skin he’d been working on Sam’s neck Dean was quite pleased by the bright red mark he’d left. Sam would be wearing it for days, a reminder to the boy who he belonged to. Though Dean hoped he would have the chance to create many more before the first faded.

“Want you… more than I’ve wanted anyone… Sam…” Dean whispered against the young man’s lips between teasing them with soft nips and swipes of his tongue. He finally captured Sam’s lips with his own once more, licking his way into the young man’s mouth to kiss him deeply. Not giving the boy the chance to think much less refuse him.

Though no longer satisfied feeling Sam’s flesh through layers of cloth, Dean let his hands work their way underneath the waistband of the boy’s jeans. Moaning as he felt the enticing flesh of the young man’s ass for the first time, squeezing the firm muscles as he bucked beneath the boy. Rubbing his own aching dick against Sam.

When their mouths parted from each other, Sam saw the way Dean looked down at his throat. Instinctively, he knew the man was getting a thrill out of probably having left a hickey on him. He hadn't thought something so teenage would give the guy a thrill like that, but when he saw the heat in Dean's eyes, he no longer questioned. It wasn't just the mark, it was more than that... it was <i>his</i> mark. Like he was branding Sam as his.

Sam wondered whether that was normal, or whether he should be worried at the sheer possessiveness in the look Dean had flashed him with. But trying to parse it out, to think about it, that was impossible when Dean whispered he never wanted anyone this way, and what should sound like a line sounded more like a prayer... a promise. He was being naive... stupid... this was obviously a seduction, but the instant Dean's tongue found its way back inside his mouth, Sam could no longer think.

Moving desperately against Dean, Sam wasn't aware until after it happened, that Dean had somehow worked his hand under his jeans and shorts. He flet warm palms and blunt nails agains this ass cheeks, and moaned as he was dragged closer and Dean thrust up against him, grinding their jeans clad cocks together. Waves of heat crashed over him, made him feel fevered and caused needy sounds to break from his throat as he tried to get closer to Dean, tried to more accurately drag his cock over Dean's, whimpering when he slid down the other man's body and felt the guy's dick grinding against his ass.

Wanting, needing to keep his mind off what he really wanted to do, Sam broke the kiss and moved his mouth over Dean's face. His eyes, the scattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones. Then he was kissing Dean's throat, sucking on his flesh the way Dean had sucked on his, and nothing was enough. Sam thought he was going crazy, like he had in his dreams. On the verge of a sob, he pleaded. "Dean... please... please I... Dean."

The sounds Sam made when Dean grabbed his ass would have tempted even a saint to sin, and Dean was certainly no saint. The feeling of their trapped cocks rubbing against each other was nearly torturous, but Dean was willing to prolong that torture if only to hear more of those desperate needy sounds spilling from the young man’s lips.

So Dean thrust up again and again, loving the feeling of the beautiful boy meeting him halfway. Rubbing his trapped cock against his own in a way that must have been more painful than satisfying, grinding his ass down on his cock, Sam’s body knowing what it craved even if the young man didn’t. But Dean was certain it would not be long before Sam was begging him to enter him, to take his virginity, to fuck him so hard over and over again that the boy would feel him for a week after their coupling.

The sweet kisses Sam rained down on his face made Dean smile and when he felt the boy’s lips work their way down to his throat he let his head fall back to give the young man all the access he wanted. Squeezing Sam’s ass harder and moaning low in his throat.

But when he heard Sam’s desperate please Dean decided he’d waited long enough, and gripping the young man tightly to him the demon shifted their positions. Using his strength to easily turn them and press Sam down onto the couch that was more than big enough for the both of them. He covered Sam’s body with his own, pushing himself between the young man’s spread legs and kissed him again hard.

Almost reluctantly he removed his hands from the young man’s ass, but now the demon desired to see and feel more of Sam’s beautiful body. And so he pushed the young man’s shirts up until they were bunched beneath his armpits. Then broke their kiss so that his lips could fasten to one of the perky nipples he’d played with before, sucking and toying with the sensitive nub with his mouth while his hands went to the waistband of Sam’s jeans. Making quick work of the young man’s belt he had them open and tugging was tugging Sam’s jeans and underwear to the middle of his thighs in seconds.

Only then did Dean lift his head, staring down at the beautiful young man’s body spread out beneath him like a feast. The demon’s eyes drinking in every inch of him from his lustful expression, to his kiss swollen lips, to his hard nipples and rippling abs down to his thick and ready cock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you everything you desire.” Dean whispered, before curling his hand around Sam’s hard shaft and began stroking him slowly.

Sam gave a small 'oomph,' when he found himself flipped over before he even knew what was happening. And then there he was, laying on the couch, Dean's weight pressing down over him, the bulge in his pants rubbing over his own painfully hard dick trapped in his jeans. His groan of pleasure was swallowed by Dean's mouth, as the other man kissed him hard, leaving him no room to think... to worry.


As his shirt was pushed up, warm palms ran up his bare chest and had Sam's stomach clenching. His muscles shuddered under Dean's touch, his breath catching when Dean reached and tortured his nipple. A strong jolt of heat went right to his groan, leaving Sam panting for breath. Who knew, his body was that sensitive... that someone could find all the right buttons to press?


"Dean?" He licked his lips as he watched Dean undo his belt without any fumbling. The protest died on his lips when his pants and briefs were down to his thighs in the blink of an eye, and he was exposed to Dean. As he felt Dean's gaze travel over every inch of him, Sam's fingers curled into fists at his sides, pressing down into the cushions of the sofa, both fear and excitement skittering through him. He caught his lower lip between straight white teeth, eyes seeking Dean's.


The instant Dean's fist closed around his cock, Sam threw his head slightly back and moaned. Everything he desired. Everything he desired. Right now, this was what he desired. "Ungh.. ungh... Dean," he reached out and gripped the guy's shoulder with one hand, and dared to run his fingers through his short spikey hair with the other. "I..." He couldn't very well ask Dean what he was supposed to do. Instead, he gave a small smile punctuated by the soft groan that tore from the back of his throat. His fingers bit into Dean's shoulder, his eyes pleaded for more... always more... more from this man who turned him inside out with just a single look.

Dean smiled down at the younger man as Sam reached for him. An almost purring sound forming in the back of his throat when Sam’s gentle fingers combed through his hair. That simple touch combined with the need written in every line of the young man’s body making Dean’s blood burn.

His lips ached to kiss the young man again, but right now Dean wanted to watch. As he slid his hand up and down the hard length of the young man’s cock, his eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful boy laid out before him. He watched as Sam’s head fell back in pleasure, exposing the long tempting line of his throat as Dean stroked him almost lazily. He studied Sam’s eyes, pupils dilated with pleasure and locked only on him. He memorized the way Sam’s lips parted and how his breath hitched when Dean ran his thumb around the crown of his dick, how the young man arched beneath him silently begging for more…

Dean squeezed the young man’s cock gently, twisting his wrist just so, and drew a bead of precome from the tip of Sam’s beautiful cock. Not one to let such fine nectar go to waste, Dean quickly bent down to lick the creamy drop away with a groan of pleasure. His tongue continuing to flick and tease Sam’s slit for more as his hand sped up its strokes.

Those few drops did not satisfy him for long however. The demon looked up at the young man through dark eyelashes as he started to swirl his tongue around and around Sam’s head like a lollipop before his lips finally surrounded it. His hand dropping from Sam’s dick to fondle his balls as Dean went down on the other man.