Chapter 10

Autumn had barely begun but once darkness engulfed the valley an advancing gust of chill tore into the hills. Each attack of wind slicing at Sam's skin, eager to drain and consume any warmth. His tight t-shirt and thin jacket provided no shelter from the cold. Regardless he quietly flicked the collar of his jacket up and curled his face away into the fabric.

Thankfully his eyes had adjusted and he was able to monitor the scene before him, while crouched behind a thicket of thorns and bushes. He'd been frozen on the spot since his ears first pricked to oncoming footsteps almost an hour ago...

Sam led the fake tracks down the mossy banks, enticed onward by the sound of rushing water, the roar that beckoned him into open sunshine. Around him the trees created a canopy of green and orange faltering leaves. Every so often an amber leaf would swirl down in the breeze and dance past his gaze. Despite the mild coolness in the air he was pleasantly warm, slightly sweaty even from trudging so far in the wilderness. He only hoped the trail worked; in theory it would lead whatever was following them a few miles away. As the dense trees parted Sam found himself beaming cheerily, white teeth sparkling like gems in the sunlight. He always privately appreciated art and the scenic display before him was a captivating masterpiece; boulders swooping round the pebbled bay, gushes of water blundering deeper into the woodland, fir trees framing the banks. He stumbled down upon the stoney beach and laughed out loud at the chance find. It was brilliant luck. Now he had the perfect route to lose the demon forever. Methodically he set the tracks so they seemed to walk right into the rivers flow. That would surely confuse their predator.

In his head he took a mental photograph of the enchanting cove and promised to bring Dean here once he was better. Sam pictured he and Dean sipping on beers admiring the suns glow. How it hung in the sky, lazily sinking into the ground. Dean laughing and joking around, arms flailing around as he talked, healthy again. The two of them skimming stones into the shallows, Dean getting competitive and then huffy when his pebbles sunk straight to the bed of the river. Dean wrapping his arms around Sams waist, fingers lingering on his hips and tugging him into the cool water. Playfully splashing each other.

Sam could see how idyllic it could be. And then it just became all he wanted and all he needed, for the two of them to venture here again, to experience that perfect day he had cemented into his dreams. Like nothing really mattered any more. Woes of the demon flittering away like confetti in the wind. The only thing Sam could think of was the lost hours he longed to spend here at the river with his one and only love.

Quickly he slipped his boots and socks off and started to walk into the water. It was icy and numbed Sam's feet senseless. The stones were slimy underfoot, like stepping on jelly, yet he continued to walk through the river back upstream. This way the demon wouldn't be able to track him back to the cabin. His footprints lost under the constant splurge of murky water. He was excited to unload his tale of the river to Dean so he rushed over the pebbles, slipping and stumbling, snubbing his toes and bruising the soles of his feet in the haste. He continued to trip up the river bed for quite some time before he began manoeuvring into the forest to return to the cabin...

Sam was trapped. The former policeman; now dressed in complete black jeans, shirt, long coat and boots; was analysing the crash site. Sam was quite a few yards away. The consistent blasts of wind masked his strained breathing and attacked his eardrums but he was still able to see the demon. His hands digging through the shell of the car. Sniffing the air. Touching the footprints that wandered off into the night. Sam watched the demons eyes narrowing. He circled the Impala again and again. Always touching. Sensing. Searching.

Sam's knees ached from being stuck in the same position so long. The arctic temperatures stabbing at his joints. Entire body desperate for a release. Yet he didn't dare move. Instead he mentally kicked himself for passing so stupidly close to the crash site. Should have known better. Dean would never make such a rookie mistake.

Dean. He'd be at the cabin. Waiting. Worrying no doubt. Feeling useless and stranded. Probably getting frustrated at his lack of ability, at the helplessness. Sam expected Dean would be pushing himself. Trying to get the strength to come out and find him. His brother never gave up on him. Sam had to try and keep his emotions contained as he reminisced about all the times Dean had cared for him. Been there to comfort. Nurture.

He recalled Dean's arms strong and muscular, even as a young teen, cradling him when he was having nightmares. Rocking away the fears. Voice smooth like caramel. Soothing little Sam to sleep. The way Dean let baby Sam lie with his head on his lap, hands combing into his curly wild hair. Fingers caressing over his skin. As a child Sam always opened himself to his brother, giving his heart and soul to him, waiting for Dean to retaliate.

Back when Sam was smaller than his brother he would dream of standing on his tip toes, stretching up and kissing Dean. Innocent kisses of course. Kissing was always for 'grown ups'; something Sam saw on TV or witnessed whenever John would stumble into the motel with his latest piece, pressing slobbery kisses all over her body. Sam yearned to just press his lips onto his brother. He wasn't aware it was inappropriate at the time. Dean was the only other person except his father that Sam was in constant contact with. All he wanted was to experience that moment with Dean and to feel grown up. Looking back Sam could laugh at himself for his childhood infatuation. The feelings he had, which he thought were one sided, weren't. All along Dean had felt the same.

Sam shifted his weight in the trance and a branch snapped under his foot. Like a bullet leaving the barrel at lightening speed all thoughts of Dean and the past vanished. He stared straight ahead. The demon looked up from the wreckage. Sam swallowed. Panicking. Surely the moon would be illuminating the whites in his wide eyes. He was bound to be caught.

Glaring into the forest, almost directly at Sam, the demon circled menacingly. The air seemed to still. Leaves shaking down to the ground. Sam slowed his breathing, heart crushing into his ribs, pulse racing. The demon stepped forward and started creeping round the bushes, scanning through the branches. Closer. Each step he made warning Sam. Closer. Hairs on Sams neck started rising anxiously. Closer...

A crescendo of perfectly-timed wind smashed sharply into woodland, rumbling like a hungry beast, knocking Sam from his perched position and pushing the demon away. Lying in the dirt Sam peered up through a web of roots and grass and watched as the demon stumbled, then steadied on his feet, body standing strong against the battering freeze. A moment later he observed the demon picking up the false tracks and abruptly vanishing into the deeper trees in pursuit.

He waited almost half an hour before he even braved getting up from the ground. Silently he retreated back towards the cabin. Eyes constantly flicking behind to check he wasn't being followed. Stepping softly onto the earth. Turning and using a stick to brush away any foot prints he left as he went. The wind clinging to his clothes. Pulling him in all directions. Hair blasted into an untamed mane. The windows of the cabin were glowing in the candlelight when he finally approached like dim headlights of a car. He moved so swiftly inside he almost knocked over the limping, hooded figure of Dean who was just about to step over the threshold.

"Woah! Dean what are you doing out of bed?" Sam gasped, throwing his arms around his brother to hold him up. Dean's hood slipped off in the embrace and he looked up with teary, green eyes at Sam.

"I was worried Sammy..." Dean mumbled, praising the return and pressing his face into his brothers chest. He loved that Sam was taller than him for this very reason. Deeply he inhaled the familiar scent. He was safe. Back where he belonged.

"Let's get you back to bed and I can explain everything." Sam began to pull him along and settled him in the sheets. Dean moaned profusely; having spent so much time and energy struggling to get changed and get to the door, only for Sam to stride in and drag him back to bed.

Once Dean was relaxed Sam started running round the cabin blowing out all the candles, putting out the fire and drawing all the curtains.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked confused.

Sam ignored him as he locked the door, pouring salt at the windows and entrances and began manically spray painting demon traps in all the rooms.

"So get this," he finally started when he came back into the dark bedroom, "I went and set up the fake tracks but when I was coming back the demon turned up. He was here. In the woods. Looking for us."

"What?" Dean shook his head.

Sam felt his way through the darkness, pin pointing his brothers voice and found the bed. Slipping up into the duvet he managed to see Dean's face in the shadows.

"He took the bait though, headed off into the forest. Let's just hope he's gone for good. But we definitely can't stay here as long as we had hoped. He could come back," Sam stressed.

Dean reached out and his hand brushed Sams shoulder, "Don't worry Sam. He's not going to come back. We're going to be fine."

"How can you be sure Dean? I should keep watch for the night, you sleep and I will guard the cabin."

Dean let his hands search up until he had Sams head cupped in his big hands. He pulled his brother forward so that their noses bumped together. His fingers lingered on Sams cheeks, rubbing in circles.

"I won't let anything happen to you, do you understand. Nothing. I promise," Dean said slowly, each word fighting away Sams fears, "We can take every day as it comes. You've set up traps and salted the doors and windows, so even if he finds us he can't get in. We can deal with whatever comes our way. Together."

An impulse kicked in. An urge to end the moment perfectly with the right display of affection. Show exactly how much he cared. All reservations thrown into the wind Dean took hold of Sam and pressed their lips together. Sam whimpered and turned to fluff in Dean's embrace. Tongue slipping out and searching for the delicious taste. Their mouths merged together. It had been a while since Dean had shaved and his slight stubble dragged against Sams flushed cheeks leaving a burning imprint. He loved it. The itch that haunted his face when Dean shifted against him. He was sure his mouth was bone dry but Dean continued to delve deeper with his tongue, causing his mouth to water eagerly. His lip quivered. Every worry he had came crashing down all at once. Dean was kissing him and that's all he cared about. Neither daring to breath. Too scared to pull away. Dean stopped making out gradually weaning Sam away but planting tender kisses on his wet lips lovingly instead. Sam let his mouth fall open and gawped at his brother.

"Dean... I thought.." Sam spluttered.

"Sam, I need you." Dean pulled Sam down into the duvet and wrapped his arms around him so they lay connected on their sides, staring into each other. He was shivering though his shakes subsided as Dean's hot breath drifted over his body, melting the cold. Warm air electrifying their bond. Sams cheeks rosy and burning, the duvet pulled over both of their heads, trapping the heat inside. It was magical. Sam felt as though his insides were heating up, sparkling into action, sending embers of excitement tingling through his body. Lighting up his senses. Every time Dean stroked his hand on the small of his brothers back Sam felt his nerves fizzle with desire.

Dean's cock was rock hard, pushing against his tight, denim jeans. Yearning to be free. Desperate for his baby brothers touch. He tugged his trousers down, the fabric ripping off his sweaty thighs. Sam gulped and began to tear his t-shirt off, nipples hard and body glistening. Slowly the Winchester brothers stripped under the safety of the duvet, cocooned in a sexual, steamy pocket of lust. The clothes damp with moisture. Each layer of fabric they removed accelerated the burning need. Sam was struggling to contain his urges. The fire within simmering uncontrollably but a black plague of worrying tarnished the sexuality. John slipping into his mind. Fear that Dean would reject him again. That it would all end again. Like poison the thoughts trickled into his bloodstream. He slowed down, face conveying a mixture of sadness and lust.

"I just want to lie with you Dean," Sam whispered meekly, "No funny business for now. Is that okay?"

Dean batted his lashes, "Yeh, 'course baby." Sams heart fluttered at the pet name; half of him wanted to take back his words and give his body and soul to Dean again. His cock throbbed between his legs. Head telling him to have control and body begging for some intense action. Dean blushed yet neither of them were too embarrassed. It wasn't forced or cheesy. It worked. It fitted. Sam was Dean's baby. Forever and always.

They were naked. Bare. Flesh touching flesh without the need to be intimate. Just lying with each other was enough to satisfy the desires. Fingers caressing skin. Worries and fears exorcised, giving way to overwhelming feelings of trust. Dean's large hands massaging Sam's side, swirling down to his ass cheeks, teasing the toned handful of butt. He was delicate and kind. Sams lip curled sensually. Eyes flickering. Climbing higher into ecstasy. Dean was hardly touching him, his hands grazing over the curve of Sams buns, however it imprinted a burning sensation deep within Sam. Any common sense deserted him and he let his body convulse under Dean's fondling. He wanted to have his brothers hands on his body for the rest of his life.

"You scared me tonight Sam, don't ever scare me like that again," Dean breathed, throwing the duvet off their heads and letting the cool air soothe the heat.

"I won't Dean," Sam swore, "I found the perfect place for us to visit when your better. This amazing river with a pebble beach and everything. It was really beautiful."

Dean grinned, "Promise you'll take me there."

"I promise."

"You have a tendency to break promises Sammy, you also promised me a bath tonight but.." Dean laughed rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I totally forgot. We could try and sort a bath for you tomorrow night instead?"

"I was just messing, don't sweat it," Dean nudged Sam with his elbow, "But sure, tomorrow sounds good."

Dean shifted his arm up and round so that it cradled Sams back and lay his other arm over Sams side, his hand hanging down and tickling Sams skin. Sam snuggled down and rested his head the the crease of Dean's armpit, one of his arms squeezed into his chest the free arm wrapped around Dean's body, looking up mindlessly content and goofily smiling like a fool. Dean leaned his head down and kissed into the tangle of Sams hair at his head. Sam hummed happy.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Sam said softly.

Dean breathed heavily, "Maybe we can, once we've finished all this business with Dad and the West Coast."

Sam felt disheartened, "We have to come back here. This could be our place... I wish we didn't have to go help Dad."

"We can't just ignore him Sam, he's our Dad," Dean answered.

"But what has he ever done for us apart from drag us around and treat us like soldiers, shouting and giving out orders like a drill sergeant," Sam ranted, staring up at the blackness of the ceiling.

Dean sighed, "I know, I know. But once this job is out the way we could try something different, a life without hunting, if that's what will make you happy. I only want to make you happy Sammy."

Sam lifted his head and planted a kiss on Dean's nose, "Can we actually do that? A life without hunting?"

"If you want," Dean replied.

"All I want is you."

Dean pushed on top of his brother, held Sams face and slanted his head so he could kiss into all of Sams mouth, opening him wider and swirling his tongue into every available space. He splayed a hand against Sams smooth jaw, thumb pressing into his chin, holding him in place like Sam was weightless and completely under his control. In retaliation Sam scrunched his fist into Dean's hair, dropping his hand down the coarse face and letting his fingers dig in at the rough texture. Sam held his breath as long as he could but Dean wouldn't release him so eventually he started panting into Dean's mouth, fighting away and stealing gasps of air before Dean reeled him back in helplessly.

They pulled apart and Dean heaved, falling back onto the mattress, then reaching out and hugging Sam close.

"All I want is you too Sammy," Dean said. Sam let his head fall onto Dean's chest, his hair cascading up against Dean's neck. He lay there till his eyes became droopy and he began to feel sleepy. Dean pulled the duvet up and tucked it around Sams body and held him. Sam didn't care about the demon or John anymore. He had Dean. As he started drifting off he dreamt of the river; the day that he and Dean could slip off, with the sun was high in the sky and have the perfect day he'd envisaged.

To be continued...