Sam and Dean entered their room for the night

Hello Puppies I am back with a simple one shot!

This takes place sort of in the middle of The Dark I Know Well. Before Sam and Dean find themselves at the settlement while Dean and Sam are still trying to work out the kinks of their new relationship.

I rated it T, because I didn't think it too graphic but if you disagree let me know.

Take it easy and I hope you enjoy!

Touch me

All silent

Baby just tell me

All is forgiven

Touch

"Touch Me" from Spring Awakening

Sam and Dean entered their room for the night. Dean watched as Sam quietly made his way into the room. He watched as Sam dropped his stuff down on the nearest bed. Dean sighed, closed and locked the door. When he turned around he was met with a blur and shoved against the door. Dean let out a mix between and grunt and a gasp as Sam's mouth captured his. At Dean's gasp Sam's tongue came swooping in. Dean's desire left him no choice but to kiss back. This wasn't like their usual kisses. This kiss was hard and bruising. There had always been passion between the two. But this now desperate kiss was sparked by something else. Then he wondered when Sam learned to kiss so dirty and burning. He felt as Sam pulled his bag off his shoulder and began to work on his coat. Sam got his coat off and Dean didn't know when Sam was able to get his shirt of too, but there he was standing pinned up against the door bare-chested as Sam moved impossibly closer to Dean. Sam's heated hands moved confidently over Dean's torso, his left hand wrapped around the small of Dean's back and pulled their hips together. Dean pulled away seeking a desperate gulp of air, his chest heaving. Then Sam grabbed him again pulling him in for another bruising kiss. Dean let out a primal groan as Sam pressed his groin against Dean's. Dean felt as his own arousal men Sam's. He winced at the constriction of his pants. Sam had managed to lose his shirt as well and Dean was overwhelmed by the overpowering heat radiating off of Sam. Dean's hands found their way to Sam's slim hips, wanting him even closer. Sam was only too happy to oblige. He thrust viciously against Dean. He let out a deep groan and let his head slam against the door, wishing the pain to help lesson the pressure at the base of his spine threatening to erupt through him. Sam would not yield or release his mounting control over Dean. He began to kiss at Dean's throat, finding his hammering pulse and sucking ruthlessly at it. Dean was panting and managed a strangled "Sam." Hopping that Sam understood his mixed plea of mercy and desire. Sam's only reply was to work at Dean's belt buckle and pants. Sam pulled Dean away from the door enough for Dean's pants to fall to the ground, leaving him in his boxers. Sam turned him around and started pushing them towards the bed.

Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind something was yelling that his was wrong. That Sam was still too young. Dean tried to remember all the reasons why they couldn't do this…Sam wasn't ready. Dean pulled away, "Sam" He tried. But Sam had moved his kisses away from Dean's throat to the base of his neck and bit down, his silent reply to Dean's meek negation. Dean tried again but all he managed was a low moan.

The back of Dean's legs hit the bed and Sam pushed Dean down onto it. Dean caught a look at Sam and grew hard enough to cut class. He had never seen Sam like this. His face was flushed, eyes dark with a primal quality. Dean didn't have time to ponder the matter any further when Sam straddled him and began grinding into him. Dean put his hands on Sam's hips to push him away but despite himself he was pulling Sam closer and arching into him.

Then Dean remembered himself and turned his head away from Sam. "Sam." He said with more conviction then he felt. But Sam would have none of it. Sam found the base of Dean's neck again, and with his hips thrust violently against Dean as he bit down this time hard enough to draw blood. Dean eyes rolled back into his head as he let a loud groan all the while arching back into Sam. Sam released Dean's neck. "I want this." Sam growled. Dean kept trying. "I want this too…" Dean was cut off as Sam shifted his hips. Dean tried to gather himself but Sam was writhing against him and God if he all he didn't want to take all that Sam was willing to give. God help him if he didn't want to scream "YES! God more YES!" And flip them over and drive into Sam's heat and let them posses each other entirely.

Sam went to catch Dean's mouth again when Dean caught his moss green eyes and reality came back into focus.

"Sam." He tried but it came out as a plea. Sam didn't stop. "Sam." He said his voice stronger. He sat up and pulled Sam's face too look at his.

"Sam." He said once again, now focusing and trying to catch his breath. "What is going on?"

Sam just looked at Dean and didn't answer. His face was unreadable.

"Sam." Dean tried again.

This time it did elicit a response from Sam, however not the one that Dean had wanted. Sam rolled off of Dean to the other side of the bed. He let his long legs dangle off the bed his back to Dean.

"I thought that you wanted this?" Sam asked still not looking at Dean.

"I do, I do Sam." Dean said and then looked down at his lap. "I really do but…"

"But you think that I am too young." Sam said. It wasn't a question.

"Sam, you are only fifteen. I don't think that you are ready for this. I don't want to hurt you and I don't want you to do anything that you will regret later." Dean said.

Dean shifted closer to Sam and Sam moved away.

"What brought all this on?" Dean asked.

Sam remained silent.

"Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Forget it."

Dean tried to look at Sam but Sam kept his head down and his hair in his face. Dean could practically see the walls around Sam slam back around him. With all the time Dean had taken, taking those walls apart brick by brick it was disheartening to see them reformed and keeping him from Sam. Dean moved closer to Sam again and Sam got up off the bed and walked around it retrieving his shirt. He slipped it back on and headed for the door.

"I am going to get us some dinner. What do you want?" He asked, still not meeting Dean's eyes, instead busying himself with his buttons.

"Sam…" Dean started but he stopped himself. "Nothing for me thanks." He said instead.

Sam simply nodded then headed out the room. Dean still sat on the bed dumbfounded as to how everything could get messed up so quickly.

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Sam leaned on the door to their room, sighing deeply. He heard the ruckus of the tavern below him and it called to him. He would rather be in a bar with a hoard of morons, then their room with Dean and his pity.

Sam tried not to feel rejected and unwanted but the familiar feelings were too strong for him to ignore. He knew that Dean loved him, but more often than not these days Sam found himself questioning how Dean loved him. Sam couldn't help but feel that Dean's affection was that of a man and his dog, rather than man and his lover…or would be lover. Why couldn't he be happy that he had Dean's love at all, and leave it at that?

Sam pushed himself off the door and made his way to the tavern, he found himself welcoming the familiar sights and sounds, despite or perhaps because a quarter of the men had the same liquored breath of Ethan. Sam laughed at himself. He really was messed up. Here he was leaving the side of a man he knew loved him to be with strangers who reminded him of a man beat him and hated him his whole life. Perhaps Sam thought that he was still trapped in a pattern of Ethan's creation. Sam could only go so long before he had to be punished, before he had to bleed.

Maybe that is was what wrong with him. He spent so long trying to make him self numb that he succeeded. It was Ethan's hate or Dean's love that reminded him he was alive. Perhaps that was what he was doing tonight; he was simply trying to feel.

He sat down at the bar at an impasse. He had told Dean he had come down for food and that was his intension, but now that he was hear all he wanted was a drink. He vaguely wondered if they would serve to a fifteen-year-old, but he knew they probably wouldn't refuse his money. He knew what he was order too, whiskey just like his father. Sam hated few things as much as he hated whiskey, and so he ordered it. If he wanted punishment he would receive it.

He looked at the glass, and then downed it, grimacing as it burned on its way down. He put the glass down and traced the rim with his fore finger. The taste and smell brought back memories that he wished he could forget he tried not to listen to the ghosts of those nights passed.

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After Dean regained his bearings he began to worry. He wanted to know what was going on with Sam, he wanted to know what had brought on such behavior. He got up and left the room to find Sam. As he made his way to the staircase he glanced over the walkway banister to the tavern below. That was when he saw Sam sitting at the bar. Dean stopped at first out of shock. Shock because Sam drinking what appeared to be hard liquor. Then he became angry. Instead of marching down and demanding answer from Sam like he wanted to, he leaned on the banister and watched Sam. If Sam wanted to drink alone, in a bar full of drunken idiots that was fine…well not really, at any rate Dean was still going to have his back.

Dean watched as Sam downed his glass and motioned for another. Dean sighed as he watched the darkness around Sam grow; the kid looked like he was drowning with the weight of the world pushing him down.

Dean thought back to earlier. Dean wasn't much for public displays of affection for obvious reasons. First that Dean was so much older than Sam a fact which still unsettled him, and second the last thing Dean needed was crazy religious town's people yelling passages out of the Bible. As true as these reasons where Dean liked to hide behind them. It scared him how hard he had fallen for Sam. Sam was the one person who could truly destroy him. Sam of course had no idea the power he wheeled over Dean, and Dean knew he would never intentionally hurt him, but that didn't stop Dean's fears from running wild. Dean was terrified that Sam would be come disenchanted with Dean and leave. Or perhaps realize that all of the emotions that Sam thought he felt for Dean were simply a reaction to the man that took him away from his father. Or maybe Sam would simply grow up and grow out of Dean. Practically everyone who met Sam could see how remarkable Sam was even if Sam couldn't see it himself. There were a thousand opportunities outside of Dean and he wondered when Sam was going to start noticing them. Dean was afraid of how much he loved Sam, how much he needed him. This left him on guard. He needed to keep Sam at a certain distance because if he let Sam in, not just in terms of sex because Dean was still right about that, Sam was still too young but truly and completely let him in there would be no way to cushion his fall if Sam ever left, and that would kill Dean.

Dean watched as Sam let his finger skim over yet another empty glass. That was something that was innately Sam, part of his curiosity and wonder with the world around him, part of his need to know. In the case of his glass he knew what it was, what it was used for, probably how it was made, but he also needed to touch it, to know what it felt like. Maybe that was what he needed from Dean: touch. The only thing he received from Ethan was pain, blood and bruises. Maybe he needed more touch from Dean; he needed Dean to counter balance the hate in Sam's life with love.

He knew that this would mean that he would have to work on his fear of losing Sam but he could do it for Sam. He would offer whatever Sam would take, could take.

Dean's realization set him into motion and he quickly descended down the stairs and made his way to Sam.

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Sam didn't know what number drink he was currently working on, but one thing he did know was that his plan of self punishment was going spectrally well. While the whiskey was making him drunk it was also making him sick, his revulsion for the drink was unsettling his stomach all on top of the after effects of drinking too much.

He felt a gentle hand settle on his shoulder, then a firm chest against his back. And his stomach settled a little as the distinct scent that was Dean hit him.

Dean leaned into Sam's ear. "Sam come back to room with me. We don't have to talk or anything just…just come back."

Sam turned slightly to look at Dean. Sam knew he could say 'no' if he wanted to. Sam was still reveling in his new found freedom to make choices, but Sam didn't want to say 'no'. He wanted to be with Dean, so he nodded his reply.

Sam silently followed Dean up the stairs and back into their room. This time when Dean closed the door he carefully made his way to where Sam was standing and pulled him in for a soft kiss. Dean moved Sam's fringe off of Sam's face so he could have an unobstructed view of his eyes.

Sam sighed and suddenly felt exhausted. Standing in the safe embrace that Dean offered Sam found that for right now he didn't want to question and over analyze everything he just wanted to sleep. Sleep the kind of sleep you only can when you feel completely safe, and he did with Dean, he did.

Dean seemed to pick up on Sam's exhaustion and guided him to the bed. They lay down and Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled him close, letting his lips rest at the base at Sam's neck. Everything was silently forgiven as they fell asleep and Sam let Dean love him.