-Hello, my fellow readers. Your continuous support is amazing and I wanted to thank you all so much! But life's a bitch and I kinda got dumped this week, plus college started full force and I'm not having as much time to write as I'd like, plus finding the mood had been hard lately. But I will pull through, because I love you that much. Don't worry; I'm NOT planning to abandon this story anytime soon.

I'm just asking for patience with the upcoming updates. They WILL arrive, I'm just not sure how quickly. Also, if there's some unnecessary description of a bad mood, broken heart or dumping, at least you know where I'm coming from. But I'll try my best to stay clear of my personal life bleeding into that story. Thanks for understanding

And as always, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious thanks to Tracey, who has been an amazing help and support, even though she's got a lot to deal with and everyone should have a friend like her. I love you, babe 3

Okay, enough with the boring note! Ladies and even more ladies, I present you:

Chapter 3

Sam returned that evening to his room, still feeling a bit dazed. Ever since Dean saved him and his classmates found out he was Sam's roommate, everyone wanted to be Sam's friend. He knew it was only because they were trying to get to Dean or to Hank Deacon – who, as Sam found out, was throwing the best parties on campus - through him but still, he had friends. He got invited for a coffee and people wanted his cell number.

And all thanks to the guy that was currently sitting on his bed in their room and chewing on a pencil. Sam was beyond grateful and when he noticed that Dean was frowning over a paper for his Legal journalism class, he decided he could repay him some.

"Need some help with that?" he asked.

"You think you're smarter than me now, huh?" Dean retorted without raising his eyes.

Sam's heart sank and he returned to the real world. Of course, Dean was only doing him a favour back there. He still didn't like him; he didn't want anything to do with him. Sam didn't know why he thought they were friends now, or why it hurt that they weren't.

"S-sorry," he muttered. "I-I...of course not."

Dean finally raised his eyes and he seemed surprised by Sam's reaction.

"Hey, it was just a joke, okay? We both know you are smarter than me," he grinned.

Sam blinked at him in confusion.

"And the thing I said this morning about you doing my homework was a joke too. You don't have to do anything. I was glad I could help you," Dean added.

"Why?" Sam didn't want to get his hopes up again; he wanted to know where he stood with Dean. But at the same time, he feared that he wouldn't like the answer. "Why would you want to help me?"

"I already told you that," Dean sighed impatiently. "I feel like an ass, because I've never even given you a chance and you seem like a nice guy. And I definitely don't like you being bullied for any reason. But that doesn't mean you have to do me any favours," he gestured toward his homework.

"But I want to help," Sam insisted. "And about today, I really don't know how to thank you enough."

Sam sat down on his bed and told Dean what happened after he disappeared and left Sam alone to deal with his classmates. They both laughed when Sam described Gary Huffman's face.

The bad feeling about Dean faking it was gone, because Dean had no reason to pretend here and he was still nice to Sam, listening to him and laughing with him. Sam had to fight the urge to just cross the distance between them and hug the older boy, because he was certain he'd just saved Sam's education, if not his life.

When they finished talking, Dean went back to his homework. Sam watched him for a moment. Something about the older boy's presence made him feel good and safe. Today morning at the student lounge was the closest Sam ever got to being a part of a group and it felt nice. He wasn't really ready to lose it, but at the same time, he still didn't know what was real and what was just for show.

"Are you my friend, Dean?" Sam blurted out and immediately wished he could take those words back. He sounded like a whiny ten-year-old.

Dean's green eyes bore into his and the senior seemed to assess him. Sam could almost see the gears grind in Dean's brain and the longer his roommate took to answer, the more Sam feared the outcome. Finally, Dean smiled and it reached his eyes. It struck Sam how beautiful his roommate was. If he wasn't as straight as an arrow, Sam might have just fallen in love with him.

"Yeah, Sam. I am," Dean nodded.

Sam beamed and he honestly thought the bottom half of his head would fall down if he stretched the smile any wider.

"Okay, scoot then."

He sat next to Dean on his bed and together they worked on his homework. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, except Sam was excited about every minute of it. His roommate was his friend and he was helping him with homework because he wanted to, not because he had to. It was like a dream come true.

"Thanks, Sam," Dean said when they were finally done. "No really, I appreciate the help," he added, when Sam just shrugged noncommittally.

"It's fine, really," Sam blushed slightly and he got up quickly, so that Dean wouldn't see.

"By the way, I was serious about the party," Dean said, getting up as well and clearing his bed.

"Huh?" Sam said unintelligibly.

"Hank Deacon? Tomorrow? The party is real and you're invited. More than that, you're coming," Dean said with a finality to his voice.

"I thought you said he didn't like lawyers?" Sam asked carefully. He definitely didn't count with going to any parties. He wasn't a party material.

"Please," Dean scoffed. "He doesn't care as long as you know him or the right people. And I," he pointed at his chest smugly, "am definitely the right people."

"But I have nothing to wear," Sam tried weakly. From being invisible to being invited to some VIP party, that was a huge jump on a social ladder and Sam felt like things were going a little too fast for him.

"It's not a prom, Sam, your clothes will be fine," Dean chuckled.

"I just-, I don't-," Sam stuttered and sat on his bed dejectedly.

"You're gonna be fine," Dean said reassuringly. He was just about to walk into their bathroom, when he turned around and added. "Besides, I'll be there with you."

-xXx-

Dean was sitting on his bed, watching Sam trying to figure out what to wear to his first party ever. He should have brought a camera; it was too hilarious.

"How about this one?" Sam pointed at the grey shirt he was currently wearing.

"Doesn't matter what I say, you'll just throw it away like the rest of them," Dean retorted.

"You're right, it looks awful," Sam took the t-shirt off.

Dean rolled his eyes. It had been going like this for over an hour.

"I never said that," he countered. "But if it'll make you feel any better, I can lend you one of my shirts."

"You would?" Sam's head whipped up. "Really?"

Dean laughed, but nodded. It wasn't so much that his shirts were better than Sam's, Sam looked good in most of them, but if it made him feel better, Dean was more than happy to share.

It was actually ridiculous how good looking his roommate was. With his self-confidence, you'd expect a short nerd with pimples and greasy hair. But Sam was taller than Dean, had incredibly long legs, slim waist, but well-build body and a little too long hair that would look ridiculous on anyone, but looked perfect on him. He wore light blue jeans in which his ass looked good and that hung low on his hips. And he had really pretty eyes. Dean could spend hours just looking into them.

He blinked and put a stop to his thoughts.

Pretty eyes? Well-build body? Nice ass? Dean was supposed to be the friend with the upper hand here, not developing a crush. Plus he didn't even know which way Sam swung.

"There, the girls are gonna love you in this one," he grinned as he tossed him one of his shirts.

Sam just blushed and looked away, but didn't oppose.

There you go, Dean told himself. He likes girls.

And with that, he forgot all about that topic.

A whole bunch of them was standing outside Hank Deacon's door, waiting for him to open. Dean could see that even though Sam tried to laugh with others, he'd been growing more nervous with every step that brought them closer to the party. He threw an arm around his new friend.

"Excited?" he asked him with a broad grin.

Sam tried to smile and nodded.

"You're a terrible liar, you know that?" Dean laughed, but squeezed Sam's shoulder reassuringly. "Relax; it's not an exam you have to pass. No one's gonna judge your performance or anything."

Before Sam had the chance to answer, the door finally opened and Hank Deacon stood in the door, his gaze sweeping over everyone. His face broke into a huge grin.

"Hey guys! It's good to see you," he let them in.

Dean was right behind Sam and almost collided with his back, when the other suddenly stopped. Dean looked over his shoulder to see what the problem was. Hank's arm was in the way so that Sam couldn't walk through the door and he was frowning upon the freshman.

"And who're you?"

Dean completely understood Hank, people were trying to crash into his parties all the time, but he still wished the guy was a little friendlier with Sam.

"This is Sam Campbell, my roommate," he answered, because Sam seemed to be ready to bolt any second, but definitely not ready to speak.

"So he's here with you?" Hank looked at him. The question was loaded. Hank was actually asking Dean to take responsibility for Sam. If he broke anything or caused any trouble, Dean would get his ass kicked.

"Yeah, he is," Dean grinned at Sam who looked at him with utter gratitude.

A small part of Dean's brain wondered if maybe Sam thought this was some cruel joke and that Dean would just leave him in front of the door. He was really hoping it wasn't the case, but he was now more than ever determined to prove to Sam that he wasn't a total ass.

"Well, then welcome to the party, Sam," Hank smiled broadly at him and let them in finally.

Hank's apartment was already crowded and the group of friends helped themselves to some beer. Dean could tell from the way Sam sipped the drink from his cup that he wasn't used to drinking. He was probably gonna get wasted. Dean chuckled at the thought of the uptight, straight-A student Sam embarrassing himself on his first college party. And then he internally smacked himself for that thought and promised himself that he would get Sam out of there, before he could made a fool out of himself if it came down to it.

-xXx-

Sam felt like he got kidnapped by aliens and put into a parallel universe. He was at a house party. Jesus. A VIP-invited only house party with older people as a part of a group with one of the most popular guys in school.

He was really surprised by how well the other people just took him in. They didn't put him in the spotlight for questioning or making fun, but they didn't make him feel left out either and that was how it suited him the most. Of course, when they entered, they all went to greet their friends and Sam – who had none – was left alone, feeling a little lost, so he grabbed a beer and sat down on a sofa in the living room.

That was another unreal situation. He was drinking alcohol. Well, very carefully sipping some beer, but still. If someone had told him he'd do all these things a year, a month, hell a week ago, he'd laugh and then he'd cry, because that was just impossible.

But here he was, sitting on a couch next to Tess and Matt and a girl named Cassidy was trying to talk to him. And by talking to him, he meant flirting. Honest to God flirting. She was obviously drunk enough to not care that he barely even responded to her attempts to strike a conversation.

When she put her hand on his thigh and dragged it toward his crotch, he nearly jumped off the sofa they were sitting on and mumbled something about needing to go to the bathroom. She obviously took that as an invitation, because the second Sam walked through the boy's restroom's door, he found himself pressed against it and the girl's mouth was all over his.

It was weird, it was wrong and it was actually kind of gross. He instinctively pushed her away. She shot him a dirty look, but before Sam could form a decent apology, she was out of the door. Sam sighed and banged the back of his head against the door. Coming here was probably the worst idea ever.

When he walked back into the living room, the girl was already sitting in the lap of – Sam's heart stopped beating for a few moments – Gary Huffman. The boy raised his eyes and his smile was the most evil thing Sam had ever seen.

"Hey Campbell, I hope you don't mind me taking care of your girl," he yelled at Sam, so everyone could hear it. Sure enough, heads had already started turning in their direction.

Sam looked around, but none of the faces was familiar to him. He wished Dean hadn't just left him there in the middle of a room full of strangers and Gary, but he couldn't expect his roommate to babysit him all the time.

What if Dean was the one to invite Gary in the first place? Cold wave of horror washed over him. It would actually made sense; he'd gotten Sam to trust him, lured him out to a party and then left him alone with Gary to be humiliated even more than he already was. His heart sank at that thought and he searched the room one more time, just in case Dean magically appeared somewhere and saved him again. But neither Dean, nor any of his friends were around anymore and Sam started to be really scared now.

"She didn't seem very satisfied," Gary's sly voice returned him into the present. "Do you even know how to satisfy a girl?"

Cassidy giggled and pressed further into Gary's chest. Some of the people surrounding them were laughing as well.

Sam sat down awkwardly on the other end of the sofa. Gary ran his hand up and down Cassidy's arm, all the while he had his eyes firmly set on Sam. Sam guessed he thought he was actually hurting him by hitting on "Sam's" girl, so he just shrugged. He didn't know what to say, really, and the weight of the unwanted attention he was getting was making him uncomfortable.

"Oh, Sam, you're not a virgin, are you?" Gary laughed.

"Of course not," Sam lied. He could feel his ears burn and he was sure he was as red as a tomato.

"Prove it, then," Gary smirked.

"What?" Sam gaped numbly.

Gary grabbed Cassidy's neck and crushed their mouths together. After a while, he pulled back and nudged her in Sam's direction.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," he encouraged. "Tell us who the better kisser is."

Sam's eyes widened, when he realized what Gary's plan was. There was no way to back out of this, everyone stared and Cassidy kept coming closer and closer...

Sam closed his eyes and opened his mouth, when he felt her lips on his. He wasn't sure what to do, so he just mirrored her actions. Her tongue plundered his mouth, she tasted like beer and something that was probably Gary and Sam felt a bile rise up to his throat. He couldn't hear anything over the blood pounding in his ears, which was probably a good thing.

When Cassidy finally pulled away, Sam didn't dare to look away from her face.

"So?" Gary asked. From the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he was sure who'd win.

"Well this was definitely better than our first kiss," the girl giggled and dropped back on the couch. "But I'd say Gary's the one."

All of the people that were paying attention laughed and clapped as Gary kissed Cassidy again. He made sure to look at Sam while he did.

"Yo, Sam!" a guy he'd never seen before addressed him. "Where'd you get that black eye?"

"Yeah, Sam, where'd you get it?" Gary smirked, not giving Sam any chance to answer – not that he would know what to say anyway. "Did you trip over your gigantic feet again?"

Laughter.

"I swear this guy keeps falling down in the most unpredictable moments. Guess it must be hard control your body, when you're this tall."

More laughter.

Sam unclenched one of his fists – unaware of clenching them in the first place – and fished out his cell phone. He found Dean's number and hovered over it. There was an almost non-existent chance that Dean would help him for the third time.

"Hey, Sam, don't be so shy," he heard Gary's voice and then someone was forcing another cup into his hand. "Drink up."

So he did, what else he was supposed to do. It wasn't a beer; it was something much stronger. The alcohol burned his throat and his eyes watered, but he managed not to pull any face. For a terrible few seconds he was almost certain he wouldn't be able to hold the liquor down.

"Refill!" someone shouted. "Come on, boy; show us what you've got!"

Before he was forced to drink another cup of that disgusting liquid, he sent a SOS text to Dean. Sure, there was a chance that this was what Dean had planned all along and Sam had just made a complete fool out of himself, but so far, Dean had not given him a reason not to trust him.

It wasn't until the text was sent that he realized, that while Dean had given him his number, Sam never got the chance to give him his.

-xXx-

At first, Dean wasn't comfortable with leaving Sam on his own. He went to greet his friends and when he turned around, Sam was gone. He found him in Hank's living room with a girl practically all over his lap.

"That's my boy," he said to no one with a broad smile and left Sam in peace.

The freshman was obviously capable of taking care of himself when given the nudge in the right direction.

He turned around and noticed the guy that had been bothering his roommate by the lunch the other day. He frowned and searched for Hank.

"Hey, dude, what's he doing here?" he pointed his beer in the guy's direction, once he'd found the host of the party.

"Gary Huffman? Our fathers do some business together, we've met before," Hank shrugged. "Seemed rude not to invite him. Why, you got a problem with that?"

"I don't like him," Dean admitted. Trust all the rich people to know each other.

"Then don't talk to him. There's plenty of other people here, dude," Hank smirked.

Dean knew he had a point, but he still wanted to check on Sam, just to make sure he was okay. He was turning into a goddamn mother hen. His friends fortunately caught up to him and dragged him away, before he could act on that and very possibly embarrass himself.

They decided to play beer-pong. He and Matt against Jim and Ben. Once again, he found himself missing Ash. Ash was a pro in this game, he'd handed Jim and Ben their asses on a platter countless of times. But thanks to that, they got the best training and now that Ash was gone, they were simply invincible.

Matt's game was on, but Dean's seemed a bit off. When they lost another set, Matt mock complained that Dean's head was in the clouds the whole time, but Dean just laughed it off.

The truth was, Dean couldn't help but think about Sam. Was he okay? Was he still with the girl? What if he wanted to take her back to their room? They didn't even establish a signal for the room being 'occupied'. Was he making new friends?

He'd heard laughter from the living room. He didn't even know if Sam was still there, he might've been in the bathroom with his girl, or on their way back to their room. Or maybe it was the freshman – however unlikely that was – telling some joke that made the whole room laugh.

He heard the sound of a ping-pong ball falling into yet another of their cups and it was his turn to drink. He felt his back pocket vibrate and checked his phone. There was a text from an unknown number.

Help me, please

He didn't hesitate for a second; he threw some mumbled excuse to his friends over his shoulder and didn't look back, even though they were yelling at him, demanding an explanation of his sudden departure.

He was in the living room in a matter of seconds.

The fucking bastard Gary was pouring Sam a cup from some undefined bottle, but it was definitely something stronger than beer.

"Come on, big boy," Gary laughed. "Show us what you're made of."

Everyone around them cheered. Dean's stomach clenched in an unpleasant way. He hated this Gary kid with a passion.

As Sam was raising his cup to his mouth, he looked up and spotted him. His eyes were watery and glassy – how many of those shots did they make him drink? – and for a few seconds there was hope in his eyes, but then his eyes widened in a question.

Are you here to help or to laugh?

Dean really hated that Sam still thought he'd just stab him in the back like this. He smiled at the freshman and walked over, grabbed the cup from Sam's hands and plopped down on the couch next to him.

"Hey, stop torturing my roommate, would you?" he laughed and sipped from the cup. Tequila.

He casually threw his arm around Sam's shoulders and he could've sworn the freshman pressed closer to his side. He squeezed his shoulder for reassurance.

"Isn't he a little young to be your roommate?" some girl asked.

"Might be," Dean shrugged. "But believe me; I wouldn't trade him for the world. Not even for Hank," he smirked.

Sam raised his eyes and blinked up at him in surprise. Gary frowned and took a step back with his bottle. Obviously, his free shots weren't meant for Dean. But in this room, Dean was much more than Gary, so the bastard took the hint and let go of teasing Sam for now.

"Did he tell you how he got the black eye?"

"He tripped and fell," a guy named Brady supplied the information.

Sam tensed against Dean.

"I never said that!" he barked out.

It was the first thing the kid said since Dean came and the slur of his words was giving away just how much drunk he was.

"Sam here probably just tried to protect my reputation, but since we're among friends, I'll tell you. But it doesn't leave this room, understood?"

Everybody nodded enthusiastically and solemnly swore that they wouldn't tell. Dean smirked. Ginny and Jenny, the school's most informed gossip girls were here, so he was sure the whole university would know this story by tomorrow.

"So, I'm walking from this party one night. Well, not exactly the party, more like the after party at one girl's room, if you catch my drift?" he winked and looked around. Everyone was hooked to his story. Including Gary and – which was funny – Sam.

"So it's true, you let the girls take you to their room," Jenny asked. She was going to be a great tabloid interviewer one day.

"Well, it was Sam's turn to take the girl to ours, so what was I supposed to do, say no?" Dean snorted.

Jenny's mouth formed into an "O" and everyone's stare flickered to Sam, who was blushing heavily.

"Anyway," Dean continued to get the attention back on himself. "We had a couple of shots and I was...a little intoxicated," he made a stop for laughter. God, he could do this for a living. "And out of nowhere, this dude runs past me and nudges my shoulder. He was a big, scary guy and I still think he was too old to be on the Campus, but that's not the point."

The girls had already their eyebrows arched so high, it almost disappeared in their hairlines.

"Obviously, he had something to drink as well and he wanted to start a fight. So he yells at me that I shoved him or whatever and he's really fucking huge, so I start walking as fast as I can to our room. But the dude's following me!"

Jenny, Ginny and a few others – not all of them girls – positively gasped.

"Even when I reached the dorm, he was still following me and yelling some shit about breaking my face and putting me back in my place. I would have fought him off, of course," he saw the smirk on some guy's faces. "But as I said, I was too drunk to even open my door, let alone fight. So I reach the door and bang at Sam, praying to God that he hears me."

Everyone was gaping at them and even when they looked at Sam, the way they looked at him had changed. Dean was a little proud of himself, because he wouldn't forgive himself if Sam or Sam's reputation got hurt because of this party. It was his idea that Sam would come after all.

"When Sam walked out, I thought he was going to punch me for waking him after some good sex."

Now the guys outright laughed and someone even slapped Sam's back saying "I know that feel, bro".

"But when he heard the guy, he just shoved me inside and punched him instead."

Everyone was staring at Sam in awe now.

"The guy got a hit, alright. But you should've seen him, when he limped out. I swear I was never happier that I'm Sam's friend than then."

He searched Gary's face in the crowd and narrowed his eyes at him.

"We've got each other's backs."

Gary cocked his head to one side slightly, but that was the only indication that he got the message. Whatever, if he tried anything else with Sam, he would have to deal with Dean. And dealing with Dean meant dealing with a lot of people. Rich father or not.

He answered some questions and let the conversation flow into different topic, not as interesting, and slowly people started to go back to whatever they were doing before and stopped paying attention to them.

When he turned his head to Sam, the younger boy was still staring at him with awe in his soft hazel eyes.

"So tell me," Dean chuckled. "Just how much did you drink?"

"You saved me again," Sam whispered. "You're my hero."

"Oh, that much," Dean rolled his eyes. He refused to acknowledge the warmth that spread through him, when he heard those words. "Think you can handle the walk back?"

"You wanna go already?" Sam asked. "You haven't even found a girl yet," he slurred and looked around, probably searching for said girl.

"No girl tonight," Dean said and pulled Sam up with him. "But we're leaving. You've had enough."

"I'm sorry," Sam lowered his gaze. "I'll walk alone, you can stay." He made a few steps before losing his balance. Luckily, Dean caught him, before he could break anything.

"Like hell you are, just wait here," Dean commanded and left him standing by the door, so that he could say goodbye to his friends.

They raised their eyebrows at him, but when he'd said it was about Sam, they didn't push it.

"Okay, let's go."

He wrapped his arm around Sam's waist and let the kid lean against him, as they walked. It wasn't that bad, Sam was pretty capable of walking, he just needed Dean to keep him going in the right direction.

Sam stumbled and they almost fell down a few times. The freshman always started apologizing and Dean always had to assure him that he wasn't mad, before the kid shut up.

"Okay, Sam, that's enough," he finally snapped, when they reached their door and Sam dropped his key, which resulted in another string of apologies. "It was your first party; I was counting on you getting smashed. So stop saying you're sorry, because it's not a bother to me, okay?"

The kid shut his mouth and let Dean manhandle him in their room and onto his bed.

"Just one more?" he asked quietly, when he sat down on his mattress.

"One more what?" Dean asked.

"One more sorry," Sam smiled sadly.

Dean sighed exasperatedly, but nodded and sat down next to Sam.

"I'm sorry you got stuck with me as a roommate," he bowed his head. "You know, the story you told today, I really wish I was that Sam, I do. I wish you could have fun with me and I had your back and you wouldn't have to babysit me all the time," he tumbled over his words a few times, but the message got through to Dean.

"Okay, one last time," Dean said and forced Sam to look at him. "I am your friend. You might not believe it, but when I first came here, I was a lot like you."

The disbelieving snort from Sam wasn't really unexpected.

"But I had my roommate take care of me, so that's what I'm doing right now. I'm taking care of you, and once you're a big-ass lawyer, maybe you'll return the favour."

He considered the smile this drew out of Sam a win.

"So," he bumped his friend's shoulder. "I saw you with that girl. Good job, man," he grinned.

"Yeah, well, what can I say, I'm a magnet for the ladies," Sam laughed and in its own drunken way it was adorable. "I got my first kiss today," he added.

"First? Really?"

"Well, first real one, yeah. But she was a girl. Therefore, not my type," Sam admitted.

Then his head snapped up, when he realized what he'd just said. His eyes were huge and boring into Dean, waiting for a verdict.

"So, you mean..." Dean started carefully, taken aback by this confession as well. "You are..."

"Gay? Yeah," Sam chewed on his bottom lip. "That a problem?"

Dean shook his head.

"And you said you've never..."

"Don't say you're surprised," Sam looked away and the sound he made sounded suspiciously like a sniff.

"Okay, then," Dean smiled and put his hand on Sam's chin.

Sam only had the time to look up, before Dean pressed his lips against Sam's.

Dean was Sam's first kiss.

Some sort of responsibility rushed through him as he let his lips slide back and forth over Sam's. He was as gentle as possible, but firm and adamant. Not that Sam was backing away or complaining. Dean was carefully deepening the kiss, working Sam's mouth open inch by inch.

He tried to make it the kind of first kiss he would've wanted and if he was completely honest with himself, even though he hated thinking back on those times, he actually had.

But this wasn't about him; this was about Sam. Dean pushed his tongue past Sam's teeth.

Sam tasted like alcohol and not much else and it was obvious that the kid had no idea what he was doing. But at least he didn't slobber all over Dean's mouth. Dean slowly coaxed him into relaxing with his tongue.

His hand disappeared in Sam's long bangs, which were much softer than Dean would have thought. Not that he'd thought about them that way. But they just didn't look this soft. He felt Sam's hand tentatively rest on his shoulder and then slowly creep its way on the back of Dean's neck.

They kissed for a long time. Dean had the time to make it past the taste of alcohol and get to something that must have been pure Sam. It was a good taste, but then, not many people tasted outright badly. He liked the smell of Sam's shampoo.

Sam got bolder and pushed Dean's tongue back to his mouth, followed by his own. Dean let him and had to admit that the kid – however inexperienced – was a quick learner. Just a little bit of practise and...

Dean pulled away then. Sam was staring at him with huge, glassy and now dazed eyes and his kiss-swollen lips were shining with spit. He was gorgeous and Dean had to stand up, before he did anything stupid.

"Now you've been kissed," he tossed a wink over his shoulder and disappeared in the bathroom.

In the shower, he jerked off to the images of Sam's lean body writhing under him, his mouth stretched around his cock and taking anything Dean had to give...

When he came down from his post-orgasmic haze, he realized, he very much wanted to be Sam's first...everything, when it came to sex and sexual stuff. He knew there was some sort of kick in being someone's first, but he'd never felt it until now.

It gave you a power over said person. And Dean knew what happened, when someone misused this power first hand. He shook his head to get rid of the memories of his first and only boyfriend, but the longer he was in the shower, the fiercer they returned.

He ended up almost running from the bathroom. That was in the past now, he thought as he closed the door. He was over it. He was fine. He was his own man now and he didn't need to dwell on his past mistakes.

He walked over to Sam's bed, where his roommate was soundly asleep. Dean dragged his blanket from under him, opened the button of his jeans – ignoring the interested twitch his dick gave at that – and covered him up. He caressed Sam's peaceful face.

He'd make sure no one hurt this boy like he'd been hurt. Dean was going to take that responsibility and he wouldn't let Sam down. He'd enjoy showing his roommate just what the world of gay sex had to offer. It would be beneficial for both sides.