Hey guys!
Here's my headcanon-a personal take, if I may- on the Stanford era reunion. Hope you like it!
Please review, reviews are a writer's best friend :)
A Boy With A Temper, A Boy With Regrets
It was 3 weeks after Sam had left for college. John was tired of calming Dean down, and he was overwhelmed by the situation himself. Dean had been erratic for the past week. He was talking, calling out for Sammy in his sleep, he was getting distracted during trainings, and he was overall a big mess. Sam leaving had taken its toll on him.
When he broke down and kicked the bathroom door in, breaking it off; John told him to go drive around for a while, calm himself.
Dean got in the car, and all his anger suddenly subsided, leaving a bitter taste of despair behind. He saw no point in being without Sammy around. And Sam had left him. He just left… without so much as a hug, or an "I'll be back, Dean, don't worry." He didn't even give him the consolation of a possible return in the future. Sam had intended to stay away. And that broke his heart.
He put the key in the ignition, and started the Impala, a familiar sense of safety washing over him. He pulled out of the driveway, and started driving, without any destination.
The music wasn't helping at all, neither was the empty seat next to him. He was missing his brother, and it felt like dying, slow and painful. It was like looking at your own fatal wound, and seeing that you're dying, but having nothing you can do about it. He felt that helpless, and it was so foreign to him, that it made him sick to his stomach. He felt the bile rising up in his throat, and he reached for the stereo to turn up the music, trying to focus on the road and the music instead of that burning feeling in his throat.
Without realizing he drove all the way to the campus, like he did for the past 20 days. One fake ID later, he was sitting outside Sam's dorm building, staring at his hands on his lap. He let out a long heavy breath.
"What the fuck am I doing?"
"He would have called if he wanted anything to do with me."
"Stop being so fucking pathetic Winchester."
He slammed his head to the steering wheel and sat there motionless for minutes, listening to his heart beating faster and faster. He wanted to go in, shake his brother awake, and ask him why, but something always kept him in the car these past few days. And now he was at the end of his rope, and well, he never had anything to lose besides Sam. Dean counted that as lost already. Nothing to keep him back now… His feet were screaming at him, telling him to get a fucking move on, and go find Sammy. His body was automatically drawn to Sam, being more than 5 feet away from him was not something he coped with all that good.
"Fuck!"
The next thing he knew, he was picking the lock on the door, praying that Sam had a room that was all his. He didn't know what he'd do with a roommate around. Sleeping so close to his Sammy, the way he used to. He felt replaced. Pushing the burning bile down his throat, he quickly slipped through the door, and found the room that he remembered from secretly reading Sam's dorm application.
Sam was sleeping, and tears started trickling down Dean's face. He let himself go for a brief moment, taking the sight of his brother in.
"At least you're safe…" he thought and wiped the tears off with his fists.
He slowly sat down on his brother's bed, and with that engraved hunter habit, Sam jerked awake into a defensive position.
"Sammy…" Dean whispered, looking at his brother with desperation and longing.
"Dean?" Sam would recognize the voice anywhere, he just never thought he'd find himself recognizing it in Stanford. "Dean, what are you doing here?" he said, moving to take his brother into his embrace.
Dean pushed his arms away, and holding one hand up for Sam to stop trying to talk.
"Wh-why Sammy?"
"Why what? What are you talking about? Did you pick the lock?" Sam rubbed his eyes with his palms.
"Why did you leave? Why did you leave me?" Dean murmured, shyly.
"Dean… I- I didn't… I couldn't stay there, Dean. I just, you were so-" Sam let out an exasperated sigh.
"Me what?" Dean raised his eyes to meet Sam's. "No, don't tell me. I don't think I want to know. I'm just, I'm gonna leave now." Dean moved to get up off the bed. "Sorry for bothering you. Won't happen again."
Before he could walk away, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
"I missed you Dean."
They were so close that Dean could smell that mesmerizing scent of Sam. That musk that used to feel like home and happiness now felt like longing and pain. Unconsciously Dean tilted his head a little and the next thing Sam knew was that he tasted Dean on his tongue.
Dean's lips were soft, and plump from biting them too much. Sam tasted the salt Dean's tears left behind before he even registered that Dean was kissing him, deep and long, and he was kissing back.
Sam broke the kiss when his brain finally caught up with his body. "Dean, what ar- I mean, wow…"
They never even realized how much they needed this before it happened. Now it was hanging between them and they were both okay with it. They were more than okay. They craved each other's touch like they never did before. The pieces were finally coming together. The dependency, the jealousy, the ache they got when they were further away from each other than they liked…
They loved each other, and distance was their worst nightmare. Kisses felt like waking up… Bodies grinding closer to each other felt like waves of relief from realizing that it was just a nightmare.
Dean pushed Sam down onto the bed, claiming every inch of his neck with his mouth. He left 3 bruises for each week they spent apart from each other. 3 marks to remind Sam that he couldn't live apart from him.
Sam's hands clawed at Dean's jacket, and when that was out of the way, at his shirt. Moments later they were both sweaty and freed from their shirts, nipples brushing against each other.
Sam's cock swelled with each kiss Dean placed on his chest and lips. He was tentative, caring, and claiming, violent at the same time. It felt like battle, like salty water crashing against the sand. And Sam thought he never needed anything else but this. This… forever.
The bile in Dean's throat was now replaced with a fast pulse and a love that seemed to be unleashed on Sam with all its force. He grabbed at Sam, pulled him closer and closer until it was impossible to tell Sam's limbs from his own.
Dean placed a soft peck on Sam's forehead, and leaned closer, hovering over Sam's body.
"You want this too, Sammy?"
Sam cupped the back of Dean's neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. " Yes, Dean. Please. Just.. fuck me. Then let's get the fuck out of here." He'd said it with a momentary impulse, but he was surprised that he didn't regret saying it. He'd follow through, he'd come back for Dean. No regrets this time.
Dean struggled to get out of his jeans and got Sam off of his pajama bottoms easily. He was on top of Sam, every inch of their skin burning up where they pressed against each other, and they both thought nothing felt better than this. Nothing ever could.
Dean circled Sam's nipple with his tongue, teasing and torturing Sam, leaving his cock unattended. He bit down on one of them, slowly sucking it till it swelled under his tongue, and elicited a delicious sound from Sam.
His muscles moved in perfect sharp motions under his tongue and Dean was getting off on giving pleasure to Sam. Well, Sam was not going to complain…
Dean got two of his fingers inside Sam's mouth, and watched with half lidded eyes while Sam made obscure sounds sucking on them. When Dean finally pulled them out, a drop of spit fell on Sam's chin and Dean kissed it off, reaching between Sam's spread legs under him, and circled his entrance.
Sam twitched at the sensation, shivering with pleasure and grabbed Dean's cock and gave it a swift tug. The fingers that were teasing Sam's hole went inside when Dean reacted to the tug, and Sam cried out his name, drunk with the heat and musk of Dean.
Dean slowly pushed two of his fingers inside, his lips still on Sam's, biting and sucking and licking like his life depended on it. And maybe at some point, it really did depend on it…
When he hit the spot, Sam clenched around him, sending a bolt of lightning down Dean's cock.
Positioning himself at the entrance, Dean reached out and pulled Sam's hair, and Sam's jaw dropped, exposing his neck and he let out a short sharp breath as Dean pushed a little in, then moaned simultaneously with Dean as the friction made it impossible for him to think clearly. His blood clawed at his skin, a faint tingling sensation starting from his fingertips moved to take over the rest of his body.
Sam was so tight, and so far gone that Dean thought he was gonna come, right then and there. He settled deep inside Sam, teasing the spot with small movements as he worked Sam further open.
"God… move, Dean, move!" Sam pleaded, and pulled Dean's hips to himself. That was all the motivation Dean needed. He started pounding into Sam, slow and long at first, but he gained speed as Sam matched his movements.
His cock jumped at the sight of Sam, grabbing the sheets underneath him with a death grip. He let out a stifled moan at the sensation and stilled not to come so soon. His hands looked for something to hold on to, and he clawed Sam's chest from nipple to hem. It was one big red mark, and it looked perfect on Sam. He looked like he belonged to Dean now.
Sam spread his legs further, and wrapped them around Dean, supporting him as Dean slammed into him.
They were breathing in unison, matching each other's thrusts and driving each other to the point of madness and back.
They were completely lost in each other, orgasms building, cocks getting stiffer and stiffer as they prepared to shoot. Dean looked down at Sam, and grabbed Sam's cock as he slammed faster and faster.
"I'm close Sammy." He panted as his thrusts became faster and stronger.
He started pumping Sam's cock when he felt himself hanging over the edge, and moments later they were both coming, Dean shooting his load deep inside Sam, and Sam shooting white ropes between them. They cried out each other's names, and Dean collapsed on him, spent from emotional and physical exhaustion.
He slided next to Sam, and got them tucked under them covers. Sam turned towards him, and kissed him, soft and deep.
"I'm glad you came back to get me, Dean." He whispered as he nuzzled closer.
"Me too, Sammy." Dean replied, and let the sleepiness combine with the afterglow. They drifted off into sleep quickly, sharing body heat, and the scent of home.
They had thousands of days of driving and being brothers and kissing and loving ahead of them, they needed their sleep.