It felt like there was a person inside him, pressing out against his organs, tearing him apart. Someone clenching his heart and tickling his stomach and sucking the air from his lungs. But no. That was just Sam. That was how he made Kevin feel. Lost and found at the same time. Everything was crazy except for Sam, who was grounded and solid and good. He held Kevin in place.
And Sam didn't know it. He walked by Kevin and didn't look up from his coffee and paper. He sat down beside him and didn't notice Kevin's blush when their knees brushed. And he didn't hear Kevin every night when Kevin slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his sweats and closed his eyes, whispering, "Sam..." until he came. Or at least Kevin didn't think he did.
It was a Tuesday when it happened. Kevin was studying as per usual, and Sam sauntered into the room, easing onto the couch beside the prophet. Kevin didn't look up, but felt the familiar warmth in his stomach whenever he was around Sam.
"So, how's it comin' along?" Sam asked, looking down at Kevin's red face.
"P-pretty good. I just, uh, need to keep decoding, y'know? It's getting there, Sammy." He hadn't meant to say it. He knew only Dean called him that. He gaped like a fish out of water for less than a second, because then Sam said, "I'm prouda you, Kev."
He was blushing as hard as it was possible to blush without one's face exploding. He looked up at the bigger man, and saw him staring back down, biting his lip. Sam was never this way. He was always busy and focused, but never on Kevin. Sam's giant hand swept out and caught Kevin's chin, a massive thumb sweeping over his scruff.
"You need a shave, kid," he laughed. Kevin's heart was flying, he could barely feel himself anymore, he was so lightheaded. He just stared, unable to speak, and Sam chuckled again. Without a second thought, Kevin pushed himself up on the heels of his hands and pressed his chapped lips on Sam's.
Then he pulled back, looking down, sputtering about how he was sorry, he didn't mean it, it was just instinct-until Sam pulled him back. That strong hand on his jaw easily tugged him forward until their lips met again, Sam's sure and warm. Kevin could barely believe what was happening. Hadn't he seen this on the backs of his eyelids every night for the past week? Hadn't he dreamed of this since he'd met Sam Winchester? Sam pulled back a little, keeping their foreheads pressed together.
"You talk too much," he muttered. He wrapped his arms around Kevin's small body and brought him into his lap, curled into his chest. The younger man nestled into his neck, still speechless. He managed to form one thought.
"Does this mean you like me?"
Sam laughed that loud, full-body laugh, and kissed Kevin's temple, not answering, not having to, but just wrapping himself around Kevin even more tightly. Kevin felt as safe and steady here as he did before this whole mess happened. There was only one difference. He was happier now.