Three Years In

First the legalities, Supernatural and any of it's characters do not belong to me, mores the shame. Any similarity between this and any of the more than 70,000 other stories on this site, is purely coincidental and no plagarism was intended. I just wanted to play 's sandbox too. I have never posted one of my stories, this one is nearly complete and contains more than 100 pages at this time, if people are interested in the story please leave constructive criticism or reviews.

Sam and Dean are not related in this story, it is completely AU, please keep this in mind when reviewing. If you don't like this type of story, please don't read it.

Rating: This story is rated M for mature content to include M/M and non-con rape (although it is only in a flash back).

Chapter 1
(The Meeting)

Sam Wesson rubbed the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to get the fuzzy orbs to focus. He raised his eyebrows into the shaggy bangs of his hairline as he opened them again and noticed that his other unopened law books were still in front of him. Damn! I gotta study all that or I'm gonna fail that test Friday?!

He sighed and gently closed the book on Tort Law and set it aside in favor of the one on Environmental Law. Not that one was easier or more interesting than the other, it was just that he had been staring at this book for over three hours, his eyes now refusing to focus and his stiff back was starting to complain…loudly.

Sam rolled his shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to remove the stiffness that had settled there over the past few hours. Not surprisingly…it didn't work.

It was worth a try. He thought, as he glanced up once again to see the clock on the wall, and then roaming about the nearly empty library; he suddenly noticed that some guy was staring at him from across the room. Sam tossed the guy a small smile and returned to his studying. It was only the second day of classes, but seeing that this was his senior year at Stanford University and his classes were requiring almost all of his free time, he knew that this would be regular thing in the future.

The full ride Scholarship that Sam had earned was always on the line, there were a lot of other students that would love to have him fail so that they could swoop in and take it from him. There was simply no way that Sam could have afforded a school like this without it, not on mom's income.

In fact unlike most of the other seniors, he still had to live in the dorms because he couldn't afford an apartment off campus.

Sam swiveled his head on his shoulders and heard the satisfying crack as his neck popped, I wish you could see this mom. His thoughts drifted again, this time to his mother and he felt his heart contract painfully at that line of thought. She had died when he was sixteen from a heart attack, or so he had been told by the doctors, but he had always wondered about that. His mother was in excellent shape, considering she was a long haul trucker, but she ran every morning…at least five miles.

He had developed a love of running because of her; she had always said that no matter where they were in the nation, the road was always the same… it didn't judge or care how much money you had.

Sam's thoughts then turned to the big red 18 wheeler that had been the only home he had ever known. The sleeper cab had been his own personal playground when he was a kid and over the years it was his study room and escape from the constant travelling that was required of a long haul trucker.

The only thing that his mother had insisted on was that he returned every week to Seattle, Washington to a small Dojo called Mr. Soks Kenpo Studies. It was in this studio that Sam learned to fight, respect others, and eventually take care of himself. Somehow Jessica Wesson had known that her incredibly smart and somewhat geeky son would need this as the school bullies tried to make him give them his lunch money.

The bullying had stopped by the time Sam was 14, he was just shy of 6 feet tall, though he was still a bean pole…but he had learned to move with a fluid grace that seemed to warn the larger boys that if they messed with him they may not like the outcome.

Sam had earned his Blackbelt in Kenpo at the tender age of 13, his instructor Mr. Sok had given him two gifts to commemorate the occasion. One had been a Jade pendant in the shape of a tiger reflecting the symbol of the Kenpo arts. The other had been a set of weapons, a beautiful pair of Bamboo escrima sticks, a mahogany bow-staff, a set of nun chucks and finally a Kitana blade. The blade was his most prized possession, aside from the silver ring adorning his right hand middle finger, a gift from his mother.

The Kitana was made of folded Damascus steel, with a hilt made of carved ivory and a hard wood that he had never been able to identify. The blade was a full tine blade that ran to end of the carved dragon that made of the handle. He smiled at the thought of the gifts and what they had meant to him…some of the best years of my life were spent in that Dojo.

Sam had continued to run, he after he started the brutal regime of college…he still ran every morning at 5 am sharp and hit the gym once a day for routine katas and stress relief at the punching bags, and if he had time he would hit the weights after a class, that usually wasn't possible until late at night.

He thought of his roommate from the last term, the guy Jared had been so frustrated and irritated with Sam's unusual schedule that he had actually asked to move rooms before the start of the spring term.

I did try to keep quiet when left to run.

He thought with a slight hint of irritation…

Sam was pulled from his musings by the sounds of angry murmuring that seemed to be coming from the row of books to his left. He shook his head and tried to return to his studies, but as the voices escalated he was pulled back to their angry tones.

He noticed that one obviously belonged to a male and the other to a female, she seemed to be upset about something. He continued to listen, even though now he felt like a heel for eaves dropping on was probably a private conversation.

Once Sam heard fear register in her voice he stood up slowly and cracked his back, moving silently toward the aisle to make sure everything was okay. What he saw caused him to take a sharp inhale of air and try and push down the anger building in his gut.

The girl, a petite brunette with large brown eyes was pushed up against the stacks of books by a guy who had at least 70 pounds on her. She was already sporting a split lip and the beginnings of black eye on the left side of her face…the bastard had obviously hit her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked in quiet voice dripping with menace as he moved to the defense of the girl.

"Bugger off man, this doesn't concern you." The stocky guy hissed, his southern accent ringing through and turning angry dark eyes in Sam's direction. His eyes widened slightly as he took in Sam's seemingly calm face.

"Uh…it does when you hit a woman." He replied slowly.

The guy pushed her again and moved to take care of this geeky looking, overly large, guy that seemed to think that he was the savior of women everywhere.

Sam pushed off the shelf he had been casually leaning on and rose to his full height, all 6'4, 220 pounds of it. The jock took a slight step back when he realized that this geek was indeed bigger than him. He glanced in the girls direction again, "Whatever, I didn't want her anyways." He skulked past Sam and headed for the exit.

Sam stepped forward and placed a hesitant hand on the girls shoulder, "Hey…hey are you okay?"

She pulled in a shaky breath and smiled slightly, "Yeah…I think so. Thanks"

Sam smiled, "Your welcome." He waited for an introduction from her, but it seemed that she had withdrawn into herself. So he decided to take the initiative, "My names Sam…Sam Wesson."

She seemed to take a cue from that, "Uh…I'm Anna Winchester. I was waiting for my brother when that…guy started harassing me."

"Is your brother here yet?" he asked gently, he didn't want to leave her standing here alone, not after what he had seen happening.

She took another ragged breath and looked around, "No, I haven't seen him yet. But he should be here any minute."

"Okay, why don't you come sit at my table till he gets here…you got some homework or something that you can work on?" he didn't want to push it here, but he just wasn't comfortable leaving her standing there alone.

"Ummm, yeah actually. I was working on a paper for my Abnormal Psychology class." She brought her hand up to her face and wiped away the blood that was still trickling from her lip.

Sam reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief and gently handed it to her.

"Thanks Sam…for everything." Anna tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace as her split lip twinged.

"Sure, not a problem." He turned and walked back to his computer which was thankfully still there, people weren't that honest in California and there was always a possibility of getting things stolen at the library. He had forgotten all about it when he had seen what was happening.

They sat at the table and Anna pulled out a massive text with a picture of some guys brain on the cover.

Sam smiled, he remembered taking that class two years ago, it had been interesting to learn how people think and what drives specific behaviors.

She slid into the chair across from his and opened the textbook along with a notebook and started writing.

Sam returned to his own studies and was soon lost in the ideals of Environmental Law, he never even noticed the guy the stepped up to their table and furrowed his eyebrows over intense green eyes as they fell on the girl…and her black eye and split lip.

"Anna? What the hell happened?" he growled.

She started a little and then glanced up seeing the man with dirty blond hair looking pissed and worried at the same time.

"Dean." She squeaked.

"Yeah…I repeat. What the HELL happened" his voice was getting lower, and more menacing, and his stance was exuding power and barely contained energy.

Sam looked up, startled out his studies to see a man standing over their table with a look on his face that beckoned at violence. He glanced in Sam's direction and a wall slammed into place that left absolutely no expression on his face…it was a little unnerving to Sam. People shouldn't be able to their emotions that fast!

"Uh…calm down man. We were just studying. Some jerk was giving her a hard time, so I thought she should wait here with me until her brother showed up." Sam's own voice was calm and low as he looked at this guy that was obviously Anna's brother. He was at least 6'1 and probably 200 pounds in his own right, he looked like friggin underwear model for crying out loud. Dean carried himself with a cocky self-assurance that simply poured off him. Huh, that was an odd thought…

Dean's green eyes flickered from Sam to Anna searching for the truth in his statement, she nodded slowly, quietly agreeing with Sam's description of the incident.

Dean's stance didn't change but his eyes softened a fraction as they flicked from Anna back to Sam. "Well then I guess I owe you my gratitude." He held out his hand to Sam. "Thanks for helping out my sister…. Names Dean…Dean Winchester. And you are?" His voice was deep with almost a melodic timbre to it...and something else that send an odd tingle down Sam's spine. Wtf?!

Dean dropped his hand when he realized that Sam wasn't going to take it immediately. His green eyes hardened again and he took a step back to create space between them.

Sam was suddenly wondering why he would notice something like that, weird…

"Come on Anna, I'll walk you back to your dorm." He placed a gently hand on her shoulder and helped he put the massive book back into her pack as she stood. She turned to Sam and held out her own hand.

"Thank you Sam." She said as she pulled the pack over her left shoulder and turned to leave.

"No problem Anna, I hope to see you around campus." He said as he rose and held out his hand to Dean. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sam Wesson."

Dean glanced from the out stretched hand and into the soft blue-green eyes of the guy who had helped his only remaining family. He re-extended his own hand into the large palm of the other guy who shook it heartily.

Dean didn't miss the spark that seemed to flow from Sam's hand into his own and he pulled his hand back quickly almost as if Sam had burned him.

"Uh…thanks Sam. Look man, I need to get her back before curfew." He cut the conversation off abruptly and moved to walk away with Anna at his side. He heard a soft your welcome behind him as they walked away from the table.

XXXX

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asked for like the seventh time, God, I'm even irritating myself with this shit! As they approached the freshman dorms, she was rifling through her backpack for her student ID and room key as she stopped and glanced at her brother.

She huffed out a breath at his over-protective nature. "Yeah…I really am, Dean. I am okay. Sam stopped it before it could go too far." She saw him bristle at the thought of her being placed in danger and she smiled to herself as she placed her hand on his arm.

"Dean…really I'm okay." She punctuated each word with a squeeze on his arm.

He turned and searched her eyes again and he seemed to accept what he saw and nodded slowly. The worry that she had seen reflected from his green gaze was immediately replaced with a sarcastic tone.

"No more late night trips to library…especially alone. Understood?" The statement was quiet but commanding and she simply nodded. He pulled her into a hug and then pushed her toward the doors.

"Get inside before you get into trouble with hall mom."

She chuckled at the image that created in her head and turned back to see him turning to leave, "Wait. Dean did you get moved in already?" Her question caused him to smile slightly as he turned back to her.

"Damn kid, I only had a duffle bag, I wouldn't exactly call it 'moving in'." His tone was a sarcastic and she knew that he was going to okay. She had wondered if he would blame himself for what had happened. Of course he's gonna blame himself. That was what her selfless, over-protective older brother did. He hauled all the guilt of their upbringing around with him, punishing himself regularly for things that he had no control over and blamed himself when things didn't seem to go right...particularly for her.

"Well call me if you need any help with your one duffle bag." She called over her shoulder as she moved up the stairs to the double doors and entered the foyer.

Dean shook his head as he walked away from the freshman girls dorms toward his own, which unfortunately happened to be all the way across campus. Of course they were!

He plunged his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket started the long walk toward the dark tree line, where the path to his own dorm was clearly marked.

He had immediately gone to get checked into his own dormitory as soon as he had arrived on campus, It could have been so much worse. His overly unhelpful mind supplied as he thought about what had almost happened to Anna.

"Shit. Shit Shit!" He murmured to himself as he thought of that jerk touching his baby sister. His unconsciously removed his hands from his pockets and clenched and unclenched his fists.

He was itching for a fight.

Dean drew in a long breath and tried to calm his turbulent mind as he approached the entrance to the upper classman's dorms.

He had transferred his credits immediately after being released from military service after honorably serving six long years. But his service had allowed him to take care of Anna, since she was legally his dependent by court order, and the military had been the only option open to an 18 year old with no college and no job experience.

True he had received a scholarship to West Point, but he had had to decline it in favor of the money of enlisted service, all of which he had sent home to Anna. The age difference between them was substantial, he was six years older than his little sister and had been forced to raise her from the time she was 12, after their father had died from an over dose in some cheap crappy hotel room in Baltimore.

Dean preferred not to think of their father, the man had been a bastard and a druggy, he had taken his fits of rage out on Dean on so many occasions that Dean had wondered how many concussions you could have before it left permanent brain damage, or how many times you could have your arms broken before child services got involved.

As much as it had hurt him, he gladly took the beatings to ensure that their father never touched Anna. To his knowledge it had worked, she had never been hit. Until today. His not so helpful mid supplied. "Damn-it." He said to himself and scrubbed a hand over his face to try and calm down.

He pulled his own student ID out of his wallet and walked to the entrance, placing his keycard against the pad to access the magnetic lock. The light on the keypad turned from red to green and the lock clicked open as he pulled on the door. Dean took the stairs two at a time as he bounded up to the fourth floor where his room was located, he wondered if his roommate would be there yet.

He hadn't seen any hint of the guy when he dropped off his bag earlier. What he had noticed was the guy seemed to be a law student from all the large text books lying around.

Dean himself was pre-med, he had been a combat medic in the Army, and had been attached to one of the Ranger units in the Special Forces. So it had seemed like a perfect fit.

He sighed as memories of the guys that he had left behind floated through his mind, but he had had to get out and go home, Anna had needed him. There had never been any other choice.

Dean placed the card in the keycard reader when he got to his dorm room and gently pushed the door open…revealing a very empty room. Okay, so this guy keeps really bad hours, fricken awesome. He groaned at the thought of the early mornings that he was going to keep, he knew from past experience, that they may not get along because of that. Generally an early riser and a night owl didn't mesh too well.

He pulled out a clean set of green cotton sheets and proceeded to make his own bed, ensuring that the corners were 'military tight' and seated himself on the edge and started unlacing his leather work boots.

He placed the laces inside of the top and put them at the end of the bed, ensuring that they were lined up and even with one another. Man, some things just aren't gonna change, even after being discharged.

He pulled out a pair of long Adidas athletic pants, grabbed a towel and a clean pair of boxer-briefs, and finally a black T-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo on it and headed to the common shower room.

He shook his head as a though occurred to him, I thought that I was done sharing a bathroom when I got out of the Army…guess not.

He grabbed his cell phone on the way out the door, along with the room key. He was lost in his own thoughts so he didn't see the tall kid with shaggy brown hair that was coming from the other direction glance up and stop as he saw Dean leaving 'their' room.

Sam saw the guy head down that hallway away from his room, "Huh, must the new roommate." He said to himself as he fumbled with the lock on the door and his heavy back pack.

Once inside he dropped the over loaded bag on the floor and rolled his shoulders again from the strain of carrying what felt like a hundred pounds in books. He looked over at the other bed and saw that it was indeed made.

Taking in the perfect corners on the bed he thought, this guy must be some sort of neat freak; his bed looks like it would pass a military inspection.

He glanced over at his own bed noticing for the first time that it was pretty fricken messy. He had half hazardly thrown the covers up over his pillow and discarded his pajama bottoms on the floor in his haste to get a run in before classes started.

Sam looked over at the clock and groaned inwardly as he noticed that it was after 11:30 at night, he really needed to get to bed if he wanted to make it to the gym tomorrow morning before his 8:00 am class on Tort Law.

Suddenly he felt bone tired as he peeled himself out of his jeans and pulled on the soft cotton of his pajamas. He slid under the covers and pulled them up over his head, hoping that when his roommate got back from the showers, he wouldn't turn on the big overhead light in the room. He felt consciousness slipping from his grasp as his breathing evened out and he dropped into the blackness of sleep.

Dean walked back to the room humming Metallica's 'Back in Black', he had his towel thrown over his shoulder and was currently cleaning his ears with a Q-tip when he noticed that he had forgotten to grab the damn keycard.

What he had actually grabbed was the key to an old motel room that he had forgotten to give back when he checked out.

"Shit! Damn-it all to hell!" he swore and dropped his head onto his chest, running a frustrated hand through his short blonde hair. Dean glanced at the ceiling, dropping his hand back to his side and shook his head from side to side when he realized that this was how he was gonna meet his new roommate.

He was going to have to knock on his own door and hope that the guy wasn't asleep, or worse…not back yet.

Dean inhaled sharply and rapped his knuckles on the door. He listened for any sounds that would tell him whether his roommate had finally made an appearance. He sighed with relief when he finally heard a groan from inside and the sound of heavy feet hitting the floor and thudding around in the room. He decided to knock again, a little quieter this time and waited…albeit, not patiently.

The door was thrown open and incredibly irritated looking Sam Wesson was rubbing the sleep out of his blue-green eyes while peering through his too long fringe of bangs.

"Sam?" Dean asked, confused as to what Sam was doing in his dorm room.

Sam's eyes widened slightly with recognition as he looked at the man standing in his doorway, weird… it was Anna's older brother Dean.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?" His mind was still fairly sleep-confused and more than a bit foggy, so he was unable to piece together why the library girl's brother was knocking on his door at…his eyes flickered to the alarm clock…Geeze seriously, it was fricken 12:48 in the morning for hell's sake.

Dean pulled dark blond eyebrows together and schooled his expression to hide his momentary look of surprise.

"Well it looks like we're roommates Sammy." He stated as he quickly slid past Sam and headed to his side of the room.

Sam's mind still couldn't comprehend that at the moment, "Mmmm hmmm….and it's Sam." He grumbled, immediately dragging himself back to his own warm bed and threw the covers up over his head again as Dean pulled the string on the light near his bed.

"Sorry man. I grabbed the wrong key when I left." Dean said with some remorse for having to wake up his obviously deep sleeping roommate.

"Mmmm…s'okay man." Dean barely heard the reply from beneath the covers as Sam rolled over toward the wall effectively ending their conversation.

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a smile as he pulled back the covers of his own bed and crawled in, he flicked the light off and tried to relax.

He had never slept particularly well in new places and he was sure that this guy was not gonna want to be his roommate once he knew the types of hours that Dean always kept. He quietly reached over and set his alarm for 0500, and tried not to think of the man in the other bed.

There was something about him that made Dean distinctly uncomfortable; he wasn't sure what it was yet.

You're a fricken idiot! His mind supplied in immediate answer.

You know exactly what it is…Shut-up! He thought to his not at all helpful mind voice.

He concentrated on using the relaxation techniques that he had learned during SERE training and eventually his mind calmed, his body relaxed, and he started to fall asleep assisted by the sounds of steady breathing coming from across the room.

Thank god he doesn't snore. Was the last thought that ran through his mind as he slipped into oblivion...

Sam heard an alarm go off and the lightning quick reaction of his roommate, he guessed, to silence the offending object. He groaned inwardly, it felt as though he had just fallen into bed, when he poked his head out of the covers and glanced across the room to see his roommates outline in the dark as he got out of bed and immediately dropped into a push-up position and began pumping out the most basic of cardio activities.

Sam couldn't help himself, he counted as Dean continued to push…87…94…120…holy shit! Dean's pace never slowed until he reached 140. He slowly laid himself down on his back and began doing sit-ups.…again Sam couldn't help but count them. Dean got to 200 before he finally raised himself from the floor his chest heaving from the physical exertion and then began quietly pulling on a pair of, what Sam assumed were running shoes.

Sam finally decided that he needed to get up, or he wasn't going to get in a run or even get to the gym before class.

He quietly reached over and flipped the switch on the lamp next to his own bad and was gratified when Dean jumped slightly at the light.

"Sorry man. Didn't mean to wake you up. I'll be gone in just a second." Dean had finished tying his shoes and was reaching for an iPod with a set of earphones attached as he glanced at Sam.

"It's fine dude, I was going to go running this morning anyways. You just woke me up a little earlier than I had planned." His voice was quiet as he stared at the man across the small room.

Dean was wearing a black T-shirt with grey sweatshirt thrown over his left arm and the iPod in this right hand; his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as surprise momentarily registered on his face. He quickly covered the reaction with a smooth look of indifference and Sam wondered if he had seen it there at all.

"Um, yeah…I run every morning that I can." Sam was sitting up in bed as he pushed the covers down and untangled his long legs from the warmth and placed them on the cold floor. He squeaked unconsciously as the cold registered through his bare feet and he pulled his legs quickly back onto the bed.

"Damn, it got cold last night." He stated simply.

Dean chuckled at that and walked over to his drawer and threw Sam a pair of socks, "Here Sammy these might help."

Sam's eyebrows knitted together at the name, but he decided to let it go, this once. Because he saved your feet from freezing!

That was the only reason.

Sam gratefully pulled the warm socks over his cold toes and then walked to his dresser removing a pair of running pants and picking up his own shoes on the way back to his bed. He quickly changed into the athletic pants, missing how his roommate looked away instantly as he traded one pair of pants for another, and began pulling his shoes into place.

"How far you gonna run?" Dean asked, he wasn't overly fond of uncomfortable silence.

"Mmmm…five miles probably." Sam supplied as he stood up and stretched his still sleepy muscles.

"Me too…" Dean looked away again as Sam's shirt rose up above the top of his pants and showed perfectly toned lower abs…great, this is just freakin great.

Sam's eyes were currently closed so he managed to miss the reaction, but he did turn to look at Dean as he lowered his arms and decided that they could always go running together.

It would be a good way to get to know each other, although there may not be much talking involved.

Sam knew that he kept a pretty brutal pace when he ran, but Dean's extremely apparent athletic build and solid muscular frame spoke of years of some sort of training, so Sam figured he might be able to keep up.

"Hey, you wanna run together?" he asked simply as he walked to the closet to remove his own burgundy Stanford sweatshirt, pulling it over his head as he waited for an answer. He shook his hair out of his eyes and ran long fingers through it to settle it back into place and immediately determined that he needed to hit the barber shop.

My hair was out of control!

"Uh…I don't know Sam, I usually run about a 6 minute pace…" Dean's answer almost sounded like a challenge…and it was one that Sam would gladly accept.

"I'm sure I'll be okay." He said as he grabbed his cell phone and a pair of ear buds.

"Okay, it's your funeral dude." Dean chuckled as he walked to the door and opened it, waiting for Sam to walk past him.

"Hey, wait. Did you grab a key? I don't want to have to repeat last night."

Sam spun around and smiled as he help up his room key and waved it in Dean's face, while walking backwards toward the stairs. "Of course dude…who leaves without a freakin key?" His voice was full of sarcasm and humor as he smiled showing impossibly deep dimples in each cheek.

Dean felt something stir that he hadn't felt for years. This so not good.

"Bitch." He stated flatly.

"Jerk." Sam called over his should as he rounded the corner.

Dean smiled to himself and pulled the door closed, then found himself having to jog to catch up to Sam's incredibly long strides.

Dean caught him at the stairs and slowed to walk as they descended them, falling into stride beside one another as they walked into the slowly brightening lobby.

"So how long have you been a runner?" Sam asked, pulling his longs arms behind his back in a stretch.

Dean looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and then stated simply, "Oh…I've been running for as long as I can remember."

Sam thought he heard something more in Dean's voice…what was it…sadness, remorse, maybe guilt? He turned to look at the man next to him and caught a ghost of a grimace that was instantly replaced with…nothing…like a wall had slammed into place. No expression at all, just a blank plastic smile that didn't reach his incredibly green eyes.

What the hell? Where was this coming from? He had no idea what color his last roommates eyes were…

Dean held the door for Sam and stopped just outside to put his ear phones in, so Sam followed suit and realized that the conversation portion of this run had ended.

Dean flipped though his library landing on AC/DC and hit play. The music blasted into his head instantly calming his rampaging thoughts and creating a more useful rhythm to which he unconsciously started bobbing his head as he stretched.

He noticed that Sam was doing the same…well he wasn't bobbing his head to his own music, but he was stretching out. Dean thought it odd that someone that large could be so…flexible.

Jesus…this is gonna be a rough semester. He thought as he tapped Sam on the shoulder and motioned to the running path, silently asking if he was ready to go.

Sam nodded and took off at a slightly slower pace than Dean generally started at, but still a pretty good clip.

Dean's head bobbed in time to his music and he noticed that Sam was picking up the pace the longer they ran. By the time they rounded the last corner Dean figured that they were nea minute pace and he was struggling to keep up with Sam's longer legs and therefor bigger stride.

One thing that Dean had learned in the military was that you didn't ever quit, and no matter what you never complained. So he just readjusted his stride again and kept pace with Sam as they saw the dorm come back into view. Dean silently thanked whoever might be listening as he felt their pace slow and eventually dropped to a walk as they approached the stairs.

He pulled his ear phones out and pressed stop on his iPod; leaning over and placing his hands near his knees while trying to simultaneously catch his breath.

"Damn man, you are a runner!" Dean stammered as his heart slammed against his ribcage.

Sam simply smiled showing those impressive dimples again and patted him on the back, "You okay dude?"

Dean looked up at him through impossibly long dark lashes, a smirk instantly plastering itself onto his face as he stood up and pressed his hands into his back to relieve the slow ache forming there, "Yeah…I'm good."

They walked to the stairs and Dean shot a sly smile in Sam's direction as he pushed the taller man into the wall and bounded up the stairs two at a time. He heard the sharp hiss as Sam hit the railing, only just realizing that this had turned into a race to their room.

Sam over took Dean in the hallway as he thundered past the other rooms on their floor, "You're a friggin jerk." He stated as he stopped in front of their room, although the statement held no heat and was bellied by the smile extending across his face.

"Yup." Dean stated as Sam opened the door and they both headed to their respective corners and started grabbing toiletries for the obviously needed showers.

"So, this obviously isn't your first time running. How long you been into this stuff?" Dean asked non-chalantly as he threw his shower supplies together and grabbed a towel from the end of the bed.

"Uh…yeah. My mom…she used to run every morning; generally made me go with her." Dean noticed that the statement was said in the past tense and filled with sadness.

"Oh. She doesn't run anymore?"

Sam tensed at the question, "No man. She doesn't run anymore." He sighed since he figured the question would come up eventually. "She died when I was 16, Mr. Sok raised me for the last two years, and then I left for college."

"Mr. Sok?" The question hung in the air. "Your mom's boyfriend or something?" Dean didn't mean to pry, but there was something about Sam that made him want to know more, even though he knew that he would not share his own information with the other man.

Sam snorted at that and a small smile played at the edges of his mouth, "No…no man, he was my Sensei."

Dean's face moved from questioning to surprise at this answer, "Your what?"

Sam turned and looked Dean full in the face, "My Sensei, I took martial arts classes from him starting when I was about 6. So he took me in when my mom died." Sam noticed that Deans lips twitched into a smile, and he also noticed that Dean had lips that would make any woman jealous.

Okay, this is getting obnoxious, where the hell are these thoughts coming from?

Sam knew he wasn't gay, he had never even looked at another guy and he had had several serious relationships, the most recent of which ended last term, so this reaction to his fricken roommate was weirding him out.

If Dean noticed his unease, he didn't show it on his face and Sam knew he was going to have to deal with his growing interest…and soon.

TBC...