here we go with some more ... "writing"

i am sorry for all the mistakes ... somehow i don't have a beta yet as it obviously looks like :(

besides, I'm trying real hard to get over my writer's block. so I dearly hope my readers can forgive me ...

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Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 37 ~ Make me scream

Dean left the omega asleep on Bobby's couch. He and the grizzled man did the dishes together and Bobby was telling him about the cars which needed to be fixed until the end of next week.

The youngest Winchester assured him that it wouldn't be an issue and that he should've told him earlier.

And Robert Singer had – again – pointed out, that it hadn't been the right timing so far and that he wasn't sure if it was today.

But the both knew, that credit card fraud and such weren't possible in a town like Sioux Falls. They had to earn their money the hard way. So hustling pool and poker were a no-go too nowa days. After all they had to live with those people in town longer than just a couple of days or weeks.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

After that was settled and the dishes done, Dean settled back down in the living-room and kicked back in the recliner, where it took him only a couple of minutes to doze off.

It was hours later, when Dean Winchester woke up again.

He felt warm and fuzzy and comfortable. Except for his damn leg and hip giving him trouble. He made a small sound when he adjusted himself in the recliner.

There was a blanket draped over his lab and legs.

He groaned and shifted again, though the pull in his hip wouldn't go away.

That was it with sleeping for the younger Winchester. So he opened his eyes, even if he didn't want to. His attention was instantly directed at where he remembered Sam had been fast asleep hours ago.

His omega was still there. And he was still fast asleep.

The alpha tugged at the blanket and sat up halfway, noticing that the recliner hadn't been such a good choice.

His neck felt a bit stiff.

"Rough night?" John's voice cut through the comfortable silence. Though, it wasn't mocking. It was honest with a hint of concern.

Dean groaned in response.

"He's … Sam's not what I think he is." John sat down at the coffee table. "You were right."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his father. Was that really his father talking? Then … why right now? He had just woken up and …

Actually Dean Winchester didn't feel like talking at all.

"Look."

"I just got up, John.", Dean groaned and sat up, stretching his back and arms.

"Yeah … I … maybe it's not the right moment to … I … look, Son. I just need you to know that …" John ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair and sighed. "You were right about Sam. And ..."

"So .. you're leaving? You've got a hunt lined up and you think you may not come back from it?"

Yep, Dean hit it dead in the eye.

The youngest Winchester had heard that kind of talk more often than he could possibly count. His father used to tell him how sorry and wrong he'd been in his past whenever he'd have a pretty dangerous hunt of which he wasn't sure he'd survive.

John chuckled, his lips curling up into a fond smile. He knew he'd been caught in the act. AGAIN.

"That's the – I might not come back from this – talk." Dean straightened up and threw the blanket aside.

John nodded. "Me, Ellen and Jim are gonna have a look into something. Try to find out some things about the ritual. Maybe finding a demon we can interrogate ..." The older man nodded towards Sam. "I WAS wrong.", John insisted. "He sure ain't that dangerous … thing … I thought he was."

Dean squinted at his father. "How come?"

"Can't I change my mind?" John's temper started to show. He didn't like prying. People had to take what he was capable of giving.

"Nope. John Winchester never changes his mind.", Dean grumbled.

"I can. I did.", the older alpha's voice high-pitched. "You're my son. And he's ..." obviously it was still hard to say it out loud. "... he's your mate. I get it. - Some day I'll retire. And when I retire I want to see my son happy. I want … I don't know what I actually want. But I know that I'd chose an apple-pie life over the one I'm living now too if I'd ever had the chance."

It sounded honest. And it may was. Dean couldn't tell since he still was half asleep.

"It's your choice. Your life. I know that now. YOU have to be happy. And if it's Sam (there still was a weird tone in his fathers voice as he called the omega by his name) then I won't change that.", John continued before his son could say anything.

"You got a lead on one?", Dean finally asked and watched his father closely, so that he wouldn't miss that tiny change on his face when he'd lie to him. IF he'd lie to him. "A demon?"

John sighed and shook his head. "Not yet. We've got something that looks like a demon's possession but we can only tell for sure when we're there … when we've talked to the witnesses ..."

His father wasn't lying.

Dean nodded in understanding. "You guys keep callin', yeah?"

It wasn't much the younger alpha could muster without sounding all touchy-feel. The both of them knew, that Dean was worried even though they weren't at the best terms at the moment.

John offered a small smile. "Sure thing, kid."

The older man got up from the table and straightened his his jeans and button-down shirt. It looked a bit awkward and if John wanted to say something else to his son – as if he didn't get rid of all the things he had wanted to tell him.

"Dad?", Dean asked when his father hesitantly turned his back on him with a small gesture of his hand.

The hunter turned around and gazed at his son.

"Take care, 'kay? Don't do anything stupid, you got me?" It wasn't like Dean wouldn't want to go with them. Hell, his whole body and mind were aching for a hunt. Specially for a demon-hunt. But he also knew that he was in no condition for something like that. Not for such a big thing.

Sure, ghosts and ghouls and maybe poltergeists. But werewolves or even demons? Nope. Dean was out of the game for too long and most of all, he'd hold back his friends by coming with them.

He might even get them into danger.

One wrong move and his leg wouldn't obey him anymore. He was the weakest part of this chain – at least in hunter's business – now.

"I'll do. - And you … take care of your omega." It was a soft warm smile, close to loving, which John gave his son. "And yourself. - You look like shit, Son."

Dean smiled back at him and watched him move upstairs.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

It was a pretty nice Saturday morning.

It was warm outside.

Sam sat on the steps of the porch, hazel-brown lace and cream-satin covering his lean body. He had his chin resting on his knees and was staring out into the yard.

Actually he would've never worn the dress again, even though he had thought about it. But that morning – Dean was already out of bed when he had woken up – Sam had found it laying on the empty side of the bed. The clothes from yesterday already discharged into the laundry-bin beside the door.

The front-door opened and bare feet patted over the wooden panels of the porch. Sam felt a calloused hand brush over his exposed left upper arm when the footfalls stopped behind him and a second later, he felt Dean slip up behind him. Muscular arms wrapped around Sam's middle and urged him backwards until he was leaning against Dean's torso.

The ex hunter hummed contently, his finger-tips fluttering over Sam's belly.

Sam's head lolled back into the crook of his mate's neck and he let his eyes fall closed.

"You good?", Dean whispered into his omega's ear.

Sam made a content sound. Sure he was good. He was better than good … okay, at least right at the moment anyway.

They hadn't found any weird corpses of dead animals anywhere in the surrounding woods. Nor have they heard any news about one being found either.

Dean felt bad for his mate. Not because he was grieving. But because he was hoping. No corpse meant, that Orpheus may wasn't dead.

That he got away.

That he survived.

And Dean figured that that would be even harder on Sam if they'd found out that the kid – creature actually – WAS dead.

Not that Dean thought that Orpheus was dead. He didn't wish for that either.

But knowing that Sam'd suffer even worse later on …

Sam reached for Dean's hands and interlaced his hands with his mate's. "You sure no one can see ..." Sam sucked in his lower lip and bit down on it.

"No one's gonna see you in the dress. No one but me." The alpha tugged one of his hands free and it started to wander upwards, coming to a rest right above Sam's heart. He pressed his flat palm against he soft fabric. "You shouldn't worry about it either, you know? You're lookin' gorgeous."

A thoughtful sigh fell from his mate's lips. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but he snapped it shut again without uttering a single syllable.

"Nope. You aren't looking funny. And it sure ain't awkward either. That's you. It'll always be you.", Dean assured him.

No, Dean Winchester wasn't a kinky type. He'd never been. Okay, maybe a bit. Slight bondage, maybe even chocolate-sauce … but nothing out of the ordinaire anyway.

He liked this, because it was Sam. And Sam damn well looked handsome no matter what he was wearing. But this? The dress? - It surely was something special when his mate was wearing it.

Because Sam wasn't only a guy. He was also a girl. And even if he WAS a guy and would like to wear skirts, Dean couldn't care any less.

Though …

It was as it was.

It was in Sam's nature.

He got born that way. (Not that guys who liked to wear woman's clothes were sick or something. Dean Winchester would never even think that way.)

Aside from the whole biological thing with hormones too.

Why should something simple like that being denied to Sam if a part of him longed for it?

"But ..."

"Nope. Don't wanna hear it. - I like you that way – or any other. I like how it's fitting you. The tight top. The wide skirt. The way the sleeves fall over your shoulders and ..." Dean Winchester couldn't stop himself from running his pointing finger along the neckline, barely touching Sam's skin in the process.

Dean pit his lower lip as he felt Sam's body tremble. "... how it doesn't hide your mile-long legs." Ever so slowly he guided his finger downwards, running them along the omega's side, his hip and down his calves, where the fabric barely hid Sam's knees. The alpha's fingers curled around the seam and he tugged it back a little bit to expose more of his mate's milky-white skin.

"Your AMAZING legs .."

He nuzzled into Sam's neck, kissed the sensitive skin there tenderly. "You're soft all over, you know that?" His lips twitched. His voice dropped an octave lower as he spoke. "And sweet."

Dean slid with his hand under Sam's dress. Just a few inches, feeling delicately soft skin.

Sam's hand caught his mate's before he could go any further. "Wait … Bobby … the others ..."

"Are in town.", Dean murmured and continued to kiss and nip at his omega's neck. "Won't be back for an hour … at least."

Sam made a soft sound. "It's … someone could see us ..."

Dean drew a circle into Sam's skin, right where the omega was holding his hand.

He shuddered under the unbelievable gentle touch.

"No one's gonna see us, baby. Promise." He felt Sam's grip on his hand ease. "Trust me."

Dean smelled Sam's scent growing stronger. Sweeter. Thicker.

Sam's legs spread slightly, giving his mate his consent to continue with his ministrations.

The alpha moaned at that. "Yeah, that's it. - No one's gonna see us. Hear us."

Sam laid his hands on his mate's knees, stopping himself from slipping down the step. His fingers dug into denim-clad knees.

Dean's hand vanished under his omega's dress, brushing further towards his middle. His skin was soft and warm, and just … it was at least as luring as Sam's scent. The way Sam's body arched into Dean's at the first touch against his heat.

Sam made a choked off sound, trying to hold back. He'd never get loud, he'd always keep himself under control. Always.

The alpha tried to break that invisible barrier each time. He tried to lure Sam out, make him loose control. He knew that his mate was enjoying this, but he also wanted him to LET GO. To just let go and not try to control himself and the situation at all.

It'd be so much sweeter for Dean if Sam would not feel like having to hold back.

Sam tilted his head to the side, following Dean's motion, so that their lips would meet. Then they kissed. Tender cushions against soft pillows. Pliant tongues dancing.

Sam's hold on Dean's knees tightened, when the alpha teased along his hard length.

The omega's legs dropped further apart, giving Dean some more space to do whatever he wanted to. He bucked up against his mate's hand and pushing back into Dean's crotch right after.

"Just like that.", Dean praised, as his seasoned fingers slipped beneath the soft fabric of Sam's briefs. "Let go, baby."

Of course he felt the tension in his mate's body. And at that, not just the one his arousal caused. Also the tension which came from Sam trying to keep himself small, even when he was like a power of nature as he was right now already.

Sam just didn't know.

Not yet at least …

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

A week later, Dean was working at Bobby's garage.

John, Jim and Ellen had left after finding different towns and researching stuff about demonic appearances.

John'd call every other day, letting them know how it was going.

It was going slow.

He left short before nine in the morning and came back at around five or six in the evening to find Sam cooking (or at least trying to, since he obviously had no clue how to handle food if it wasn't out of a tin or box).

Mostly it tasted acceptable. But on two days out of three, it was close to uneatable – and landed in the garbage under the sink.

Dean even told him that he didn't have to cook anything. Because that wasn't what Sam was supposed to do. Sam was supposed to do something he liked to do. He was supposed to find something that made him happy.

Cleaning the house, or cooking weren't fun for his omega. He knew that. He was just busying himself with it.

Sam was supposed to read or … figure something else out to do with his time.

So Dean managed to get his hands on a scaffold and canvas and colors, when all of that cleaning and cooking and even baking seemed to get too ridiculous. His mate honestly seemed to try to compensate the fact that Dean was working during weekdays and that he was at home at the cabin without having to do anything specific.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

It was one of those Tuesday evenings.

Dean had just come home from work and Sam's clothes were covered in different shades of blue and red and yellow as he was stirring in the pot on the stove. TO be honest, Dean gulped down a breath and held it as he entered the cabin.

Today seemed to be one of those days, which'd end with the both of them on the couch with sandwiches instead of a warm meal.

But Sam was trying.

And Dean appreciated that. Because he didn't really count on Sam cooking for him. He didn't need that either. He'd be satisfied with sandwiches, or bread as long as he'd be able to enjoy them with his omega.

After Sam trying desperately to save their dinner, and Dean convincing him to let it go and join him on the couch, they ended up with sandwiches. Peanutbutter-Banana Sandwiches to be exact.

SO they were sitting on the couch and Dean was eating.

Sam on the other hand hadn't touched his yet.

Of course Dean sensed that something was up. He had known the very moment he'd stepped into the house. He was just waiting for Sam to spill.

But the omega wouldn't.

He wouldn't say a single word.

Which made Dean a bit wary.

Sam wasn't chatty, but he also wasn't a calm one either. He'd laugh at funny scenes, or he'd chuckle at least. That sweet chuckle which'd erupt from the depths of his chest like a soft rumble.

But there was none of it.

He seemed so much calmer than usual. Even pensive and a bit distant.

Dean didn't call the omega on it. Not yet anyway.

About half past ten, Dean decided that he'd take a shower and head to bed.

Sam followed him.

They'd shower together. Like usual. But without the typical touching or something.

Dean grew even more curious.

They'd lie down and cuddle like every day. Though Sam still seemed awfully quiet and pensive. He was chewing his lower lip a lot.

Dean still wouldn't call him on it.

Both men lay awake for an hour or so, before Sam'd break the silence.

"You know … about … the … about Orpheus.", the omega's voice was hoarse from not being used. "I know its ridiculous. But … You think he's still alive? Somewhere out there?"

Sam stared through the darkness at the far wall.

Dean didn't move, nor look down at his mate. He could figure out by his own how Sam was looking like. That hopeful expression in his eyes and face. The way his lips were parted slightly.

Dean hadn't have an answer to his mate's question.

"I'd know if he's dead, right? I'd know … I think I'd know ..." Sam sounded .- somehow .- heartbroken.

"I'm sure you'd know.", the alpha mumbled. An heavy sigh fell from his lips. His hand found Sam's head and his hair. He knew how it must look like. Like he had a fetish or something. But he LOVED Sam's mop of hair. He loved to card his fingers through it. He loved to feel it slide in between his fingers.

And obviously, Sam like it too. He always seemed to relax into Dean stroking him.

"He's … I think you'd know, baby."

Sam nodded into his mate's chest and let his eyes flutter closed. It was like the only thing he needed was to hear someone else saying that he was right. That there was a possibility that his "kid" was still out there and alive.

~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~

It was Friday night.

Dean had made extra hours at the garage.

He still felt a bit uneasy about leaving Sam on his own. Specially after those weird couple of days during which Sam seemed mentally absent.

What had been even weirder was, that Sam had went into town with Bobby on Thursday. He may hadn't even mentioned it to Dean, if it hadn't been for Robert Singer giving it away without intention.

It wasn't like Dean didn't want his mate to get out of the cabin. It was more because he wondered what could Sam possibly make leave the salvage. What could possibly be that important to Sam?

The ex hunter had no clue what to think about all of this.

There were thousands of thoughts going thru his mind. From Sam needing distance. Or Sam having enough of playing the good wife.

Or that he have had enough of Dean?

… to be continued