Words are Flowing Out

Like an Endless Rain into a Paper Cup

They Slither While They Pass

They Slip Away Across the Universe

January

Sam was sure the whole mess started when he walked into class that sunny day in Lawrence, Kansas. It was the start of the New Year, 1969. His second semester of Senior year.

Of course it started there. Where else would it start besides the moment his saw his History teacher, Dean Winchester? He was the first thing Sam laid eyes on. Not the peeling ugly white (More like yellow now) paint on the wall. Not the school beauty, Jo Harevelle. And he most definitely didn't notice how the students stared at him, the new student. No. It was Dean Winchester.

To Sam, he was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. All bright green eyes, an almost impossibly brighter smile, dark hair slicked back, and Sam nearly drooled at the sight of how Dean's shoulders and biceps fit into his suit.

Yeah, it was so very wrong. But what seemed to be right after Hitler tried to annihilate an entire Religion, Gypsies, children and adults with mental disabilities, and people like Sam. Homosexuals.

It was unknown to most that that was what he was. Sam didn't think it a big deal at all. Just him liking the same sex. But to others that wasn't exactly the case. It wasn't right, it was a sin. But what is the bigger sin? Homosexuality or pure hatred of someone else and their right to freedom of speech and opinion?

People never had truly moved on from the war like the television seemed to make it. How could one move on after only twenty-four years since the end? After all, do people's minds ever seem to really forget?

And no one could move on for one thing, students were taught all about it in World History. And everyone in Sam's class always wanted to speak in class, always wanted to look Mr. Winchester in the eyes as they spoke. Who wouldn't? With a face like Deans, everyone wanted to be the teacher's pet.

Well except for the fact that Sam didn't.

He hated History. Even if he did think Mr. Winchester was absolutely gorgeous, it meant nothing. Dean was probably straight anyways, probably thought people like him were disgusting.

"Sam Wesson right? Care to take a seat or are you going to stand there and daydream all class?" Sam heard a deep voice break through his thoughts like they were glass. He heard laughter, most of it annoyingly fake, erupt around him and he looked up quickly. The chorus of laughter faded away as Sam found his eyes locked with him. Dean Winchester.

"Oh…Um…" Sam cleared his throat as his voice cracked, only resulting in more laughter. Dean sighed and quieted his class quickly by raising up his hand.

"Okay, Mr. Wesson, just sit down please." Dean said in a directing tone, pointing to an empty seat. Oh good, just what Sam wanted. The last seat in the front row.

Sam sighed, nearly rolling his eyes and said nothing as he plopped down into the seat.

"Class." Dean started to speak again. "As you all know, we have a new student. Mr. Sam Wesson, anything you'd like to say?"

Dean crossed his arms and Sam scowled. This was a test and Sam knew it. Some test to see if Sam was an idiot. He wouldn't have it.

The boy next to Sam, Gabriel Novak, leaned over. He had golden colored hair and dark eyes, a smirk seeming permanently etched onto his lips.

"Don't worry Sammy, Winchester's only twenty percent bad!"

With those words, girls giggled at Gabriel's comment, one of his dark eyes giving them a wink.

Sam rolled his eyes, looking up at Dean with a smirk similar to the one the boy next to him had had.

"Nothing I'd like to say, Mr. Winchester." Sam said in a mocking tone, yet his lips were more than dry. Dean rose an eyebrow almost shocked at the way Sam spoke to him.

"Really? Mind if I test you? See what you know in history?" Dean smirked, question after question going through his mind as he saw Sam shrug.

"Would you like me to stand, sir? " Sam wasn't sure what was going through him. Maybe it was how he knew he could one up Dean, show him what he was made of. Maybe it was how the class stared in anticipations, making the adrenaline pump through his veins. It was most definitely Dean.

"Go ahead. I'm warning you though. My class is tough to pass. If you don't know the information now well…I don't know if I can teach it to you in time for finals along with this semester's work." Dean spoke, arms still crossed.

Sam rolled his eyes (He found he was doing that an awful lot lately) and walked to the front of the class. "You won't have too." He said, a wide smirk on his lips.

"Fine. Whatever you say. Declaration of Independence was signed by who?" The first question went past Dean's lips quickly.

"Thomas Jefferson. Hard class? I don't know. That's a first grade question Mr. Winchester." Sam's arms were crossed now. The tension was strong, felt through everyone in the class, some were even sure it was a sexual tension.

Dean took a deep breath. "Oh, I'm just getting started Mr. Wesson. What country lost 17.2 percent of its population during World War Two?"

"Poland." Sam answered quickly. Dean was starting to become amused with this student. Only two questions had been asked. Yet, so far Sam seemed to be smarter than Dean had thought. Sam answered with such ease, Dean wanted to see exactly how far it could go.

"Okay. Maybe those were easy questions. I think I'll start with something with a bit more of a higher level of intellect, what do you think?" Dean was prepared to challenge this student now.

"Bring. It." Sam spoke through gritted teeth. He swore he heard several students gasp, the sound of the scratching of old desk on the tile floor as students even tried to move their desk a bit closer to the action.

"In the Crusades, who fought to capture what?" Dean scowled as he spoke.

"Muslims and Christians to capture Jerusalem. Christians won."

"Name the first ship to travel through the Panama Canal."

Sam thought hard for a moment. "I believe it's the Ancon, Sir."

"Correct. In World War Two, what was the estimated number of Jews killed?"

Sam scoffed. God, he hated learning about World War Two, but that didn't stop him from not knowing the answer. "Six million. Also counting Gypsies, Homosexuals, and mentally challenged people." Sam tried to one up Dean on his own question. It went on for several minutes, Dean nearly shouting question after question and Sam answering better than he expected.

"Good. Name the five Pillars of Islam." Dean said and Sam stopped for a moment, trying his best to remember.

"Establishment of daily prayers, concern for the needy, self-purification…." Sam stopped, the room dead silent.

"Hm? Sorry, didn't quite catch the rest Sam." Dean smirked, knowing this kid didn't know everything gave him a pleasant feeling, no matter how awful it sounded.

"I don't know. I don't know the rest of the damn answer got it?" Sam growled, glaring at Dean. If a glare could kill, Dean would've been tortured slowly and bled out in Sam's mind. Dean wasn't taken slightly aback, uncrossing his arms.

"Seems you don't know everything. Sit down now Wesson. Language." Dean glared right back, the look following Sam right back to his seat, along with another thirty pairs of eyes from the students. "Now that we're done with Mr. Wesson 'introducing' himself…we can actually learn something." Sam looked around and saw students smiling at Dean, as if everything that had just happened was a dream.

A dream? God, Sam could only wish it was just a dream. He moved his dark brown hair out of his hazel eyes, not really sure what Dean was saying. He heard bits and pieces, thinking they were learning about the French Revolution. Yawn.

Sam stared at the peeling paint on the wall, scoffing when he saw it was just painted in certain areas the day before. Shows how much the school cares about how the wall looks.

'Congrats Mr. Winchester.' He thought. ' You're less interesting than watching paint dry.' Sam took a deep breath and didn't bother to pay attention. What was the point? He already knew he wasn't liked by Dean. Even though he couldn't deny that his teacher was so handsome….What was this, second grade? Sam was being rude to show Mr. Winchester he fancied him? Like when you're told ' He's mean because he likes you' Yep. Definitely second grade again.

The bell soon rang and Sam was relieved to just get out of that damn classroom for the rest of the day. At the end of the year he would pass his class and never have to see Mr. Winchester ever again! It was a very joyful things for him to think about. But it really wasn't at the same time. On one hand he could never see his teacher again, never have a chance with him. On the other hand he could stop seeing his teacher and that would mean never having to even try and have a chance with him. It would end bad anyways. Dean was his teacher.

Sam nearly ran out of the classroom, not bothering to be annoyed with the stares and whispers that were towards him. He walked to the front of the high school, the walls of the buildings only a slightly darker than the ugly yellow of the classrooms, with spots of maroon in stripes nearly random on the walls.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply. One day down. Okay. Now he just had to get through what he was sure a million more. Or would at least feel like that.

Dean sighed, trying to calm his heart rate down as the blood raced through his body at the thought of his new student. The kid was such an asshole! He didn't know what to do with him and it was only his first day in his class! Sure, the kid was a complete genius besides not knowing one question. And even then if Dean had gave him a small hint as to what the rest of the answer was, he probably would've gotten it. But Dean couldn't help it. He found himself hating and loving Sam Wesson all at the same time.

He'd pass his class, maybe even get the top grade. Dean was completely sure of that. What he wasn't sure of was how he would actually get through the semester.

It sounded so sinful, so utterly sinful. But the teacher found himself fancying his student. It wasn't right, it wasn't even close to right at all. That was another thing Dean couldn't help. How he felt when he saw Sam smirk every time he knew the stupid answer to his damn questions. How his eyes were filled with determination to defeat his teacher in his little game. How the kid was taller than he was, might be even taller by the end of the year if he hit another growth spurt. Everything about Sam Wesson turned him on.

A teacher head over heels for a student! It wasn't that much an age difference, it was only Dean's first year teaching. He was twenty-three and Sam would be eighteen by the end of the year. Only then would it be technically legal. What the hell was he thinking! It had only been one day and Sam was straight! Not that Dean knew that, but Dean was sure of it considering society believing anyone gay had to be worshipping the Devil.

Dean just tried his best to let the thought go, straightened his tie and walked out of the classroom.

Sam didn't even make it out of the school parking lot before he was confronted by a girl from his History class. He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. "What do you want?" He scowled.

"Aw, teacher's pet getting upset?" The girl Sam recognized as Meg Masters, a girl with dark chocolate colored hair and dark eyes, her thin lips always in a smirk, spoke in a gleeful tone.

Sam scoffed. "Teacher's pet? Right. I hate that class!" He defended himself. Yet Meg wouldn't have it.

"Anyone who is that smart and knows all the answers…well nearly all the answers…" She chuckled before continuing. "Is automatically considered the teacher's pet. And don't lie to me. Everyone saw the sexual tension between you too. You know Sammy, it's very illegal for teachers and students and be together. Even worse, people to be...homosexual."

Sam scowled. "I am not gay, alright? Don't call me Sammy! You don't know anything." His voice held power.. It may have been a lie but he wouldn't admit that to Meg.

"Yep. I'm sure you aren't. Keep telling yourself that, make your mother proud." Meg smirked, rolling her eyes. Who was she to say this to Sam like that? She knew nothing! Meg may have been right about it all but….she was still wrong about him.

"Hey!" Sam's eyes went wide and his head turned towards the voice he heard. Oh, lucky day. Mr. Winchester here to save the day. Sam's day really was going well now wasn't it?

Meg bit her lip hard, her eyes wider than Sam's. "Mr. Winchester!" Her cheeks went dark with embarrassment. "Oh, I was just helping Sam with this question he had about class!" It wasn't believable and Dean knew pretty damn well that was not what was going on.

"Miss Masters, I suggest you leave now before there is more trouble." Dean gave a small smile and a wink that would get the any girl (or Sam) to do whatever he wanted him too.

"Yes sir…" She said quietly and walked away, not leaving without giving a glare to Sam.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment and turned to Dean. "Thanks Mr. Winchester, but I didn't need your help…" He said quietly.

Dean shook his head. "Its fine, Miss Masters causes more trouble than she's worth." He bit his lip and there was a short awkward silence between the two before they waved good bye and went their separate ways. Sam was completely certain his cheeks were redder than Megs were. Even more sure that Mr. Winchester had noticed.

Sam sighed and went to his car. It was an older car, a 1954 Chevy Truck a light blue color.. Nothing too special, didn't even run well anymore nor was it easy on the eyes. A thin layer of dirt was permanent on the surface. He reached into his pocket to pull out his keys.

The world sure did love him today.

His keys weren't there. Instead Sam found a hole in his pocket, more than big enough for his car keys to fall through.

Sam clenched his fist, trying to stay calm. "Fuck!" He shouted out and kicked the cars wheel.

Dean watched the whole scene from his car, a midnight black '67 Chevy Impala. His father had given it to him after his graduated, thinking it was an appropriate gift. Dean gladly took the gift. Now it was his baby. The thing he could take care of. Dean lived alone in a small apartment and had nothing since he had started college. That car was his favorite thing now.

He drove up towards Sam, not sure if he should regret this decision or not. "Mr. Wesson, you have a problem?"

"Its not a big deal, I lost my car keys. I'll just walk home." He shrugged it off, eager to get away from the school.

"And where do you live?" Dean always felt amused with this student. He crossed his arms, awaiting an answer.

"Just a few streets away, I can be home in like half an hour." He didn't make eye contact.

Dean took a deep breath, not sure if he would regret this or not. But there was no way he could just let the kid walk. "But if I….drive you, you can be there in five minutes." Dean offered quietly.

Sam rose an eyebrow. "You want to drive me home? No thanks. Much rather walk." He scoffed.

Dean sighed. "Really?" He looked up at the sky, the grey clouds forming in swirls across the sky, highlighted in blacks and other forms of grey. "Because by the looks of it, it'll rain soon. Sure you want to walk in that?"

Sam sucked in a breath and nodded, too stubborn for Dean's liking. "Yes. I would. I like rain." Sure, Sam liked rain. When there was no thunder. (But that's a story down the road)

Dean scoffed. "And I like music from the twenties. Get in please?"

"I'd much rather walk, thanks."

Dean shook his head. "That can't be true. You know what happens to people like you out here?"

He crossed his arms, a look of confusion burned into his eyes now. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Dean found himself going completely red, hiding his face for a moment as he cleared his throat. "I um...Sorry, didn't mean anything by that…"

Sam couldn't help but laugh slightly at the awkwardness Dean had all the sudden. "Its fine, Mr. Winchester. But really, I am able to walk just fine."

Dean didn't understand Sam Wesson in the slightest. First he walks into his classroom, acting up. Then, he won't take up his utterly nice offer to drive the damn sasquatch of a man home. (The kid stood at least three inches taller than himself.)

"Okay." Dean said in a sing-song tone, crossing his arms. He stared at Sam for a moment, as if he was a book demanding to be read. "Just know-" As if on cue, thunder erupted through the sky, causing a less than subtle jump from Sam. (Dean had to admit, Sam looked pretty good with his hair wet and down in this situation.) "Thunders here. And lightning shall most likely follow."

Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head as he tried to regain whatever ounce of dignity he had at that point.. "If I take up your offer will you stop bothering me?"

Dean shrugged, "Considering you'll be doing what I asked I won't have to bother you about it. Deal." Dean smirked. Sam rolled his eyes and got into the passenger seat.

As Dean started to pull out of the school parking lot, Sam pointed about a quarter mile up the road. "Just make a right here and go straight. I'll tell you when to stop."

Dean nodded. "You got it Sam." Dean smiled slightly and looked over at Sam for a moment but quickly turned his head away. He drove up the road and made a right where Sam had told him too.

"You know, you're a smart kid…In class you knew just about all the answers." Dean broke the silence. Honestly, Dean felt kind of guilty treating Sam the way he had on his first day. He hadn't exactly done anything awful yet he had. Sam looked up at Dean, his cheeks slightly pink now.

"I um…I guess so. It's just studying…I was alone a lot as a kid so I learned a lot of things by myself…" Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded. "Oh…That's great, you'll do fantastic in college." Dean sighed. There was silence again as Sam just shrugged. After a few moments and Sam silently pointing at where Dean needed to go, they pulled up to an old apartment building downtown. The rain was pouring down like tears down cheeks when one sobs. Not too hard, but most definitely not quiet. It roared and thundered and somehow the raindrops each showed emotion as they hit the ground.

"Thanks…" Sam said awkwardly and got out of the car. He didn't wait for an answer from Dean, just quickly ran into the building to avoid getting too wet from the tears of whoever cried in the sky that afternoon.

Sam was happy to get away from Dean. First off, he liked his privacy. And he swore if he was with Dean with only a few more moments, his head would explode from the pressure.

Dean stayed there for a few moments, not speaking, not even thinking a single word before driving off to his own apartment. In his mind Dean wasn't sure what to make of falling for a student in a matter of seconds. Yet, he knew deep down his feelings for Sam were far from what was right. And Sam knew it too.

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