ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
AU, OOC, SLASH! Yes, you read it right!
Hey, guys! I've got some good news for you. When you're going to read on, your wish will be granted. (At least I hope. :D)
Anyway, this is a looong chappy, so enjoy it! I don't know if I can write this much again. Who knows what Missy and Sadie have in store for me? :)
So, have fun with this chapter! Hope you'll like it!
Chapter 14: Match Made In Heaven, Part 2
Sam spent the rest of the day in bed, the shock of the attack slowly wearing off. All of the other servants visited him to make sure he was alright, Alex returning as much as he could. Sam was glad that they worried about him like he was a family member, missing the feeling, but he also felt bad for keeping everyone's attention on him. He didn't want to cause them trouble and all the caring made him feel a little useless. Like he was a burden to the others.
Even the Mistress came to see him. Sam was just calming down from the screaming he had heard from upstairs, knowing it was because of him. He was startled when the bedroom door suddenly burst open and Mary ran through it, heading straight to him. The hug Sam received was so painfully familiar and surprisingly pleasant that Sam melted into the lithe arms holding him tightly. Mary caressed his tresses tenderly, only as a mother could in need of comforting. Sam felt tears run down his cheeks as the picture of his mother and the memory of that strong, loving hold that had surrounded him so many times during his childhood swam into his mind.
Mary didn't do anything else. She didn't say a word, she didn't even move except for the gentle rocking and the soft petting of Sam's head. She gave strength to the young servant the only way she knew how… and Sam took everything in, wanting to feel the closest to motherly love he was able to find.
Eventually Sam dozed off into a light sleep in Mary's arms. When she noticed it, she laid him gently against the pillows and tucked him in, brushing the stray bangs off his forehead. Sam hummed contently, shifting more into the pillow and the touch, bringing an adoring smile onto Mary's face. She couldn't stop herself to lay a kiss onto the smooth brow and comb her fingers through the slowly growing tresses, before leaving the room.
Sam woke with a hiss not much time later. He had to take a few seconds to realize that he put too much pressure onto his injured shoulder, the pain of it startling him awake. Marston must have hit on a particularly sensitive spot for it to hurt this much. Waiting a little bit, eyes closed and breaths deep, he managed to overcome the throbbing. Swallowing, he winced at the sting in his parched throat. He slowly sat up, using his good arm, and got out of bed, scrubbing his eyes as he made his way out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.
"I'm fine, alright? Stop pestering me!"
The irritated voice stopped Sam just as he reached the door of the kitchen. Not wanting to intrude but feeling curious, he peeked around the frame to see what was going on.
Alex was at the stove, a sponge in his hand, and he was scrubbing at the top with a little more force than it was necessary. Mark was standing next to him, a firm look on his face as he examined Alex.
"You know you're not" Mark snapped back. "I know you're not fine. So why are you trying to deny it? You need to deal with this, man…"
"I don't have to deal with anything" Alex exclaimed angrily, slapping the sponge down onto the stove. "Would you just leave me alone?"
"Alex" Mark's voice turned softer and more caring. "You know why I worry. What happened to Sam… It could trigger something." Alex flinched visibly and Sam realized what they were arguing about. Mark reached out and stroked Alex's back. "I just don't like to see you hurting… I want to help."
Deep silence stretched on in the room, Sam feeling its pressure on his body. None of them moved for quite a while, then…
"I felt it again…"
If Sam hadn't been watching Alex's face and hadn't seen his mouth move, he would've thought the whisper had been in his head. Now he noticed the tears rolling down the young man's cheek.
"Every hit… every bite of that stick… every crack of my bones…"
Mark pulled Alex into his arms, shushing Alex's distress, his lips against the other's temple. Alex instantly clutched at Mark's shirt, his face burrowed into the young man's neck, sobs wracking his body.
"I-It hurt s-so much-ch" Alex choked out between gasps. Sam noticed Mark's hands beginning to shake and a painful furrow of strain on his forehead. Sam didn't know what that meant, but Alex must have felt the change in the young man's behavior, because he pressed a kiss onto Mark's neck and took the lead of their rocking.
"I-I'm okay now" Alex whispered hurriedly. Sam watched in worry as Mark's eyes glazed over a bit, before they were shut tightly. "I'm alright, it's okay… I'm alright, I'm alright, I'm alright…" Those two words were repeated over and over again, in the same hurried but calming manner. Sam saw Mark's body slowly relax and the young man buried his face into Alex's shoulder. Alex breathed a 'Thank you' upwards as he buried his fingers into Mark's blonde hair.
Sam stepped back from the door, leaning against the wall while he waited for things to settle. What was that? What happened to Mark back there? It seemed like he was… straining to stay in the present… or maybe… in reality?
Alex had told him that Mark was mentally unstable, exploding when he was too pressured or emotionally stressed. Obviously the memory of Alex, his lover, almost beaten to death sent him into distress and Alex's admission was just icing on the cake. But now, the proof of the two being the perfect couple was just presented for Sam. The fact that Mark could break down Alex's walls and that Alex could keep Mark steady in the danger of exploding made it worth all the work Sam did to get the two together.
"Are you okay?" Alex asked and Sam peeked around the doorframe again. The young man was holding Mark's head with both hands, cupping his cheeks tenderly. Mark had his eyes closed, but not as tightly as before, and kept a steadying grip on each of Alex's wrists. Soon Mark looked up and the haze in front of his eyes from before was gone. After a meek nod, Mark spoke up:
"Are you?"
In answer, Alex pulled the young man into a tender kiss, his hands sliding onto Mark's neck, cradling it. Mark wrapped his arms around Alex's smaller form and pulled him even closer, making Alex turn his head to the side if he wanted to continue the kiss. Sam then decided to get his drink at that moment. The couple pulled out of the kiss when Sam cleared his throat to announce his presence.
"Sorry" Sam shrugged a little sheepishly. "I just need some water."
Alex immediately jumped to the cupboard to get a glass and fill it with water. Sam noticed Mark's uncomfortable shifting and he guessed that the young man was self-conscious about his episodes.
"You shouldn't be out of bed, though" Alex scolded Sam after giving him the water. "Why didn't you call for one of us to get something to drink for you?"
"I…" Sam blushed slightly, ducking his head, "I didn't want to bother you…"
Alex just shook his head with a sigh, before picking up the sponge and returning to the stove. Sam slowly sipped at the water, letting it sooth his burning throat. The change in his friend was noticeable. That small confession was enough to settle Alex's mind about Marston and Sam was glad. He didn't like to see him suffer, either.
As evening arrived, chasing the sun below the horizon, Sam was already in his bed resting. The pain was gradually fading, just like the bruises on his skin. After he had drunk the water, Alex had ordered him to rest, even helped him back to bed. Sam had blushed at the treatment, feeling some indignation at the babying. He just hoped that this will stop soon, so he could return to be useful again.
When Sam turned on the lamp to see the letters in the book he had gotten from Ramon, the bedroom door opened up. Sam sighed in frustration, thinking it was Alex checking on him. Ever since he had stood up to get some water, his friend had looked in on him in almost every other minute, making sure Sam stayed put.
"Yes, I'm still in bed and resting, not even trying to strain myself with doing anything" he said loudly, not even looking up from the book. He just had enough of the attention. The next moment his heart skipped a beat:
"I can see that."
Sam snapped his head up and met with amused jade-green eyes and smirking full lips. Dean was standing in the doorway, looking at his servant with an expression that said: 'You can't even imagine how funny this is.' Sam blushed as he quickly closed the book and placed it onto the nightstand, settling back against the headboard and the pillows.
Dean closed the door and walked to Sam's bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. His eyes roamed over Sam's form, visibly relieved to see his servant alright.
"How do you feel?" he asked, when there was no sign of Sam wanting to speak. Dean smirked, knowing what the boy would have said by now if he hadn't been so shocked: 'I'm so sorry…'
"I-I'm fine, sir" Sam replied, eyes fixed on his hands. "Thank you for asking."
"Good to hear" Dean muttered, his eyes boring into Sam. The boy blushed deeper, probably sensing his Master's gaze.
Sam felt his heart beat faster and the butterflies begin their usual dance in his stomach. The room got a little warmer in the last few seconds, the heat of Dean's leg leant against Sam's side making it so much worse. The scent of that unique cologne filled his nose and lungs and he unconsciously took in even deeper breaths, not having enough of it.
"I made some calls" Dean spoke suddenly.
"What do you mean, sir?" Sam asked confused.
"I reported Marston to the authorities. He should be arrested and in jail by now."
"I'm sorry-" Sam started, guilt churning his heart at the trouble he caused.
"Would you stop apologizing for everything?" Dean retorted gently. "Not everything is your fault."
"I'm s-" Sam's words were cut off by the hand pressing onto his mouth. His lips instantly began burning from the touch of those calloused fingers. He had to blush again. If he felt like this from a simple touch, what would it be like to… kiss him…?
"By the way" Dean continued, taking his hand away, a bit confused by the sudden redness in Sam's cheeks. "This wasn't the first time he did something like this. Only I was the first from the upper classes who actually stepped up against him. I have to talk to Alex, though. They might find out about the attack against him and he could get into trouble for not telling anything of it to anyone. I thought I could protect him like that…"
Sam's heart broke at the sad look that slid onto his Master's face. Dean had gotten lost in his thoughts, so Sam had dared to look up at him. But to think that Alex can be held responsible for keeping this quiet… Or would they hold the Master responsible for it?
"Anyway" Dean said, taking a deep breath. "I just came here to tell you this. And to assure you that not every person is that way towards slaves. Most of them are very tolerant and even kind to them. So you don't have to worry about anyone mistreating you."
"I understand" Sam nodded, touched by the obvious concern in his Master's voice. He startled when the back of a finger brushed at his uninjured cheek and when he looked up, the Master's face was slightly closer. Sam couldn't help but look away from the piercing gaze, fearing that they would see into his heart, into his soul, and discover what he's been trying to hide away. A sigh broke the silence between them, turning the mood sour by the resignation in it.
"Get some rest" Dean murmured, caressing Sam's cheek one last time, before leaving. Sam lay in his bed frozen, his gaze stuck on the slowly closing door, hazel-green dimming from hurt and misery. He lifted his hand to his cheek, touching lightly the skin where Dean brushed his finger down on it, almost afraid that it was his imagination.
Why?
He turned away from the door, his chest painfully tight, vision blurring. He was shaking from that overwhelming emotion that took him over every time Dean talked to him, touched him or even just looked at him. It made Sam's heart beat faster, his breath escape from his lungs and butterflies flutter in his stomach, before he tumbled down from the skies by the weight of reality landing onto his whole body and mind.
Why?
He never heard the creak of the opening door, or noticed the sudden darkness as the light was turned off. He was just laying on his side, forgetting the outside world, the pain in his chest breaking his heart, filling up his senses and his mind. As a teardrop slipped down his cheek, moistening the pillow under his head, one thought ran through his mind before sleep consumed him:
Why can't you love me?
The next morning Sam woke up, his body was a little stiff from sleeping in the same position the whole night. Carefully lifting himself onto his feet, he walked slowly out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to have a shower. The pressure of the water helped to unwind his muscles and joints and the lingering ache in his shoulder and cheek diminished. As he dried himself off, he checked his injuries in the mirror. Thanks to the cold that had been applied to the bruises, the purple faded into soft green and yellow and the swelling reduced. He gently rolled his shoulder, but other than a tiny crack of the joint, nothing happened.
Freshened up and dressed into clean clothes, he made his way into the kitchen, letting Ramon into the bathroom with a smile. Alex was already cooking up a storm, breakfast set out for the other servants by now. Sam didn't dare to disturb his friend, seeing the dark, nervous look on his face, so he just sat down and began eating as quietly as he could.
"Are you alright now?" came the question so suddenly that the fork fell out of Sam's hand with a clatter. When he looked up, he saw Alex watching him worriedly, eyes sliding fleetingly onto the bruise on Sam's cheek.
"Yeah" Sam replied a little breathlessly. His heart almost skipped a beat from the jump. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine now. It doesn't even hurt." And to prove his statement, he sent a wide smile to his friend. Alex seemed to relax somewhat before turning back to the stove with a nod.
At that moment, Mark and Ramon stepped into the kitchen, the older man sitting next to Sam to start his breakfast.
"Hey, Alex" Mark stepped to the young man, wrapping an arm around his waist, but Alex stayed tense. "Is everything alright?" Mark asked. Sam noted the caution in his voice. Was Alex so terrifying when nervous?
"He tends to blow up if something doesn't work as he planned" Ramon whispered, keeping an eye on Alex. "It's not very pretty, but it gets less and less if more big events are organized."
"It's okay, for now" Alex answered, his voice trembling. Mark massaged his shoulder and pressed a soothing kiss onto Alex's temple, who in turn relaxed into his hold, head leaning onto the other's shoulder. Sam smirked at the obvious love between the two, a stab landing into his heart from the sadness that usually plagues him in moments like this.
"So" Ramon spoke, diverting Sam's attention from the couple, "if you feel up to it, we're gonna do some harder duties before the charity dinner."
"I'm okay" Sam nodded eagerly. He had just about enough of lying in bed. "We can do it."
"Eat your breakfast then we can get on with it!"
After breakfast, Sam quickly did his morning chores then joined Ramon at the entrance of the Great Ballroom. At first Sam washed the floor then dusted the furniture inside, getting rid of the cobwebs in the edges of the room. Between the two of them, the piano was carried to the end of the room and out of the way then a couple of couches were placed in the middle and some tables at the wall for the food.
After that, Ramon brought a long ladder in while Sam retrieved a bucket full of water and the window-cleaner. With Ramon holding the ladder, Sam climbed up and cleaned all of the windows from top to bottom. Sam had to keep himself calm when he was balancing on the very top of the ladder, but Ramon kept up an easy conversation during the higher parts. However, no matter how much the older man had succeeded to distract him, he gave a huge sigh when he was done.
"Looks good" Ramon said when everything was ready, and held his hand up. Sam gave him a high-five with a victorious grin. Sam combed his fingers through his hair as they retreated to the servants' quarter, their job finished. He already had his shirt-sleeves rolled up, and he smelled like window-cleaner, but his heart was filled with contentment the success had given him. It was like in the mall, but much greater.
"Could you air the bedrooms?" Ramon asked him at the kitchen door. "I'll talk to the Master." Sam nodded and hurried through the kitchen, remaining as quiet as possible around Alex, not wanting to anger him. Mark was already outside maintaining the garden. Sam slowly went through the rooms beginning in the other end of the mansion and making his way from that side to the other. When he reached the last room, he met with the Mistress, who was reading at the window, which was already open.
"Sam" she exclaimed, jumping up from the armchair and hurrying to the boy, embracing him tightly. Sam couldn't help but smile and return the hug. "It's great to see you up and strong."
"Thank you, miss" Sam bowed his head respectfully. "I'm sorry for being a nuisance."
"Sweetie, you were attacked" Mary retorted firmly. "It's obvious that you'll need more care and attention because of that. But are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes, miss" Sam nodded. "I'm really fine. I realized I can't wallow in every punch I get from this life. I know I'm a slave and I know that there are others that don't like it and they never will."
"But you're a human being, as well" Mary argued. "Just because you're labeled as someone in a supposedly "lower" status, it doesn't mean that they can treat you however they want. You have a right to live, no matter what."
"As long as there are a few people who believe that, there's still hope" Sam spoke quietly. Mary felt tears gather in her eyes. How can someone be so innocent and so mature at the same time?
"Alright" she spoke, closing the subject. "I'm sure you have some work to do, so I let you go." With another hug, Mary returned to the armchair and her book, while Sam left the room, his mind going over the things that were said. He felt a little lighter from the Mistress' words. He had told the truth, though. He really was fine and over with what'd happened. Marston was reported at the authorities and that piece of news was enough closure for Sam to leave this incident in the past. Now he only had his injuries as a reminder, but they will fade in time.
Sam sighed in relief then couldn't help but grimace at the smell surrounding him. Now he just wanted a shower.
The start of the charity dinner was drawing closer and closer. Everyone was banned from the kitchen, Alex ready to bite their head off if anyone dared to disturb him. Sam decided to use the main hallways until the dinner, and noticed the others following his lead.
Soon the evening has arrived, the sky darkening rapidly. Sam was ordered into the kitchen to help with the final preparations. Alex gave him and Ramon trays after trays of food, which they had to carry to the tables in the back hallway next to the Great Ballroom. Sam was moving slower, not trusting his hands and not wanting to anger his friend. The tables gradually filled up and he hadn't dropped any of the food he had been carrying.
At one moment, he just placed a tray onto the table when he heard Dean's voice in the Ballroom. As he looked up, he saw his Master talking to his mother. Dean was dressed formally – and what a sight he made. The black suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his hard shoulders and muscular chest that Sam had been leaning against a few times. A light green tie adorned the white shirt he was wearing that Sam had washed just that morning. The color brought out Dean's eyes, making them noticeable even in that distance. Sam couldn't help but look his Master over, taking in the sight, feeling the air heat up around him as it settled onto Sam's body, especially on his skin.
The green eyes landed on Sam, who startled out of his thoughts at that. Sam blushed furiously as he turned around and hurried back towards the kitchen, missing the raised eyebrow and the confused look his actions received from his Master. Sam cursed his mind and body inwardly. Why did he have to go through this torture every time? Why did he grow hot just from the sight of his Master? Why couldn't he serve him in peace? Why did he have to crush on his Master, the one person he couldn't have?
As he turned to the right to step into the kitchen, a smaller form slammed into his and a huge crash filled the kitchen and the corridor. Sam was yanked out of his miserable thoughts to see a fuming Alex in front of him and a tray of food on the floor, splattered in a wide range.
"Look what you did, you bloody imbecile!" Alex shouted angrily at Sam. The boy was so taken aback from the sudden outburst that he stepped back in fear. "Watch where you bloody walk, you idiot!"
"I'm s-sorry" Sam stuttered out, feeling his stomach churn from guilt. He stepped forward to get into the kitchen. "I'll take care of it…"
"Just get out of my sight, before I do something I'm going to regret!" Alex cut him off, shaking from rage and shoved Sam out of the way quite forcefully. Sam couldn't move, hurt filling him from Alex's behavior. What was wrong with his friend? Why was he so hostile towards him? Sam's throat tightened, hating himself for being so clumsy and useless. A hand rested onto his back and when he turned around, he met with Mark's sympathetic look.
"It's okay" the young man whispered, steering Sam away from the scene and towards the kitchen.
"I didn't mean to do it" Sam murmured, cursing his voice for shaking.
"We know that" Mark soothed him, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist, ignoring the height difference. "These things happen all the time. Alex is just a little stressed out." Mark sighed when he saw Sam wiping at his eyes, tears of sorrow and shame gathering in them anyway. "Really, it's okay" he said as they stepped into the bedroom. "Last year when I accidentally hit a glass out of his hand, he cursed me to Hell and wished it to freeze over with me in it."
"What?" Sam asked shocked, sitting down onto his bed and Mark joining him.
"Yeah" Mark shrugged with a smile. "You can't take these to heart, because he doesn't mean them. Believe me, when all of this is over, he'll be by your side every five minutes apologizing." Sam snickered softly, feeling slightly better. "Why don't you get to bed?" Mark offered, standing up. "We can manage this for now, and someone will wake you when you have to clean the Ballroom."
"Okay" Sam nodded and Mark left the room with a reassuring smile. Sam sat in his place for a couple minutes to get himself together, trying to convince himself that Alex was just strung out from nervousness and wasn't trying to hurt him on purpose. Although he was still feeling offended, he forced himself to get over it, knowing he would feel better after some rest.
He just stood up to get ready for bed, when the crunch of gravel flowed into the room. Sam realized that the first guests must have arrived to the dinner. The lightning of realization struck into him so out of the blue that he jerked from it. What if…?
Sam hurried out of the bedroom and straight to the entrance of the servants' quarter. Opening the door to a crack, he peeked out into the entrance hall. He had the perfect angle to see the arrival of the guests.
Mary was standing at the door, greeting the first couple that arrived with a bright smile. As more cars rolled into the driveway, more guests appeared at the big double door, until there was a flow of people. Sam looked at every one of them, hoping desperately and deflating after a look at each of the faces.
"What are you looking at?"
Sam jumped, swearing softly as the Master's voice spoke behind him. He was going to get a heart attack these days. Why did everyone have to sneak up on him? He sent a mild glare towards the man before turning back to the guests.
"Sorry" came the sheepish reply to his glare, before Sam froze as the warmth filled his back: Dean was peeking over his shoulder, curious about what held his servant's attention so firmly. "Are you expecting someone?"
Sam swallowed as the desperation grew in him with every passing person that disappeared in the Ballroom.
"I'm hoping" he whispered, wishing that the next person would be the one he was looking for. A soft brush of air ran over the back of his neck, eliciting a shiver down his spine. Dean was so close to him… He could smell the menthol of his toothpaste…
"For your father?" Sam had to swallow again. Was he that obvious? "Did he attend charity dinners?"
"Yeah" Sam answered softly, his heart sinking more and more as the flow of guests began waning. "He did, before… all of this…" Before they realized Sam was different, before they ran away and decided to hide… Before Sam's mother died… Sam was a little stunned when he hadn't jumped from the pair of arms sliding around his waist and pulling him to the hard chest behind him. This time it was consciously welcome.
They stood like that until the last of the guests arrived. Sam felt his body slump from disappointment and his breaths stuttered from his suppressed sobs. As his knees buckled, the arms around him tightened and Dean's head lay onto his shoulder, keeping Sam up. Sam gripped at the hands on his hips, searching for comfort and support. One arm slipped up and around his chest, aligning his back completely with Dean's chest, so Sam wouldn't fall forward. Sam let his Master take his weight for a minute, just taking his time to gather the strength needed to go on with his days. The strength that was supplied by the person behind him, holding him.
"Let's get you into bed" Dean breathed into Sam's ear, feeling a tiny shiver run through his servant's body. The boy must be really upset about his father's absence. As Sam straightened out, holding himself up shakily, Dean helped him into the bedroom and into Sam's bed. Making sure the boy could fall asleep, Dean caressed Sam's cheek before leaving for the charity dinner. He was certain, though, that his thoughts would stay with the brown-haired beauty just a few feet away from him.
Sam woke up to a hand shaking his shoulder lightly. Silence settled onto his ears; he vaguely remembered some music in his dreams. Blinking groggily, he turned towards the one who woke him: it was Mark.
"Hey" the young man whispered. Sam scrubbed at his eyes and leaned up onto his elbows.
"What happened?" he asked. His mind just registered the light snoring in the background and the silver light of the moon.
"The dinner is over" Mark replied softly. "You can go and clean the Ballroom. Don't worry, it's not that bad."
Sam nodded and slowly got out of his bed. Mark patted his shoulder as a yawn escaped him. Sam stood up and stretched before making his way out and to the supply closet. Grabbing a broom and the dustpan, he snuck out of the servants' quarter, careful not to make any noise and wake the tired servants up.
Stepping into the Ballroom and turning on the lights, Sam assessed the state of the place. There were a few napkins and toothpicks littered around on the floor and some dirty plates and wine glasses on the tables. Leaning the broom against the wall, Sam gathered the plates first, carrying them into the kitchen and dumping them gently into the sink. Those were soon followed by the glasses, arranged on the counter one after the other in perfect lines. Making his way towards the tables in the back hallway, he picked up the empty trays from there, as well. As he walked back to the kitchen, he noticed the stains on the floor where one tray of food had fallen. Sam felt the usual shame and guilt creep into his heart as he passed it, hating himself for his clumsiness.
However, just as he pushed those feelings aside, the trays slipped in his arms and the one on top fell off with a big clank. Sam dumped the trays in his arms into the sink with a little more force than necessary, anger clouding his senses. Plucking the fallen tray up and chucking it amongst the others, he stomped out of the kitchen and back to the Ballroom. He grabbed at the broom, but the handle slipped out of his fingers and hit the floor loudly. Sam bowed down and snatched it up. His hands began to shake then, fed up with everything, he threw the broom away with a growl. The harsh knocking of the wood echoed around the Ballroom and the entrance hall.
Sam buried his face into his hands, taking deep breaths, forcing his frustration back. This was too much… Everything… He had enough of it… He'd lost everything: his mother, his home, his father and with him his family… He lost his old life… And now, his dignity… He was degraded from a normal human to a freak slave in a matter of one day. He never felt so betrayed, humiliated and alone… Why wasn't life ever fair…?
"Sam? You okay?"
Sam froze, eyes widening, hands falling away from his face. He just realized what he'd done. His tense body relaxed slightly at that voice, the voice that kept him sane during these weeks, the voice that promised that amazingly pleasant touch, sometimes on his cheek, surrounding his chin… But he couldn't let himself be off-guard around him. He was stubborn enough not to let this weakness break him…
"Sam?"
… or was he?
"I'm sorry, sir" he said, keeping his tone calm and steady. He heard Dean walk closer and stop behind him. "I didn't mean to make such a racket."
Dean's hand smoothed onto his shoulder – Sam closed his eyes for a moment; that voice never broke its promise – and turned him around. Keeping his eyes lowered, Sam noticed that the man was in his pajamas. Was he getting ready for bed or was he just awoken by the noise?
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, stepping closer to his servant. His eyes took in the golden glow of the chestnut-brown tresses under the lamplight. His fingers twitched slightly. Why don't you look at me…? "Maybe I can help…"
"No…" Sam breathed, but it sounded like a scream in the silence. "No, you can't…" To his mortification, a teardrop rolled down his cheek. Before he could get away and sort his emotions out, Dean's other hand lifted up. The teardrop that came to a stop on his chin decided then to let go…
… and landed on Dean's fingers.
Both of them froze at the sudden moment. Sam watched the glitter of liquid on his Master's hand, feeling as if someone had crashed through his bedroom door while he was having a moment of weakness. Dean, however, was shocked, unable to imagine that Sam could hide his suffering so well. How many nights had this beautiful boy cried himself to sleep from the agony of the previous weeks? How many times had he hidden away to set his strong façade back on?
"I-I need to clean up, sir" Sam began, trying to step away from the older man, but Dean grabbed his upper arm, holding on tightly.
"Please, don't go!" Dean spoke, almost pleadingly, and stepped even closer to Sam. The boy bit back a gasp, when the older man's body pressed lightly against his, and he leaned back a little, feeling his will shaken from the sensation. Dean's free hand slowly lifted up and cradled Sam's chin, lifting it up. Sam couldn't stop the glance up into those jade-green eyes, and his own widened. Dean was so close… He could see the lines in the irises… "You're so beautiful, Sam…" Dean breathed out, involuntarily by the sight of a little surprise sneaking into his eyes.
"Sir… Please, let me go…" Sam whimpered, trembling from the want waking up inside him at the sound of his name spoken like that and the pleasant warmth of the other body against his.
"Why should I?" Dean asked firmly. "I lost so much in my life… I don't want to lose you, too…" Sam's heart lurched in his chest from his own thoughts coming out of his Master's mouth. How much had Fate wanted to torture him? Sorrow and sympathy settled onto him as he realized how similar their life had been. Only Sam lost everything in a smaller period of time. He didn't have too much time to deal with them, not like Dean.
"Sir, please…" he breathed. The same sentence reverberated in his mind: I don't want to lose you, too…
"I know you want it" Sam shook his head slightly at the statement, dislodging his head with his denial. "Why not?" Dean asked a little desperately, trying to crumble Sam's stubborn refusal.
"It's not right" Sam's voice rose as he wrenched his arm out of Dean's grip and stumbled back to put some space between him and the Master. "I'm just a servant and sir is my Master. We can't be anything more…"
Dean froze at the boy's answer. Did he really think that? Did he really think that some title or rank can stop this between them? Dean felt anger rise in him. He will be damned if he lets this chance slip away from him!
"Other Masters or Mistresses have affairs with their servants without being shunned by-"
"What?"
The hissed word muted Dean's angered rant. The older man's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. How could those words leave his mouth so harshly? Dean stepped closer, trying to save himself, to make up for his huge, huge mistake, but his head snapped to the side from the hard slap Sam gave him.
"You… How could you… I'm not…" Sam couldn't breath from the rage swirling inside him. What did this bastard think? That he was some cheap whore for the higher ranked people's pleasure? Fuming in indignation, he marched towards the entrance of the Great Hall, wiping away his hurtful tears that flowed down his cheeks, and gasping against a sob. Was Sam wrong about the Master's intentions? Did he really think so poorly of him? That he would do anything just to please his Master? Well, he'd better think again, because…
His inner tirade of anger was cut off by a strong grip closing around his wrist. He knew immediately who caught him, so he turned around to yank himself out of the hold. Sure enough, Dean was fighting to keep him still, now his free hand grabbing Sam's other wrist when the boy swung it towards him for a hit.
"Sam, stop it!"
"Let me go, you son of a bitch!"
"Please, you don't understand-"
"Oh, I understood it perfectly!" Sam cursed his voice when it wavered. He groaned from the effort to slip out of Dean's hold, but the older man surprised him by grabbing his upper arms and shaking him.
"Would you just hear me out?" Dean raised his voice. Sam made a last attempt to push him away, but the older man didn't budge. Taking deep, shaky breaths and keeping his hands on the Master's chest to hold him back, Sam fell silent waiting for an explanation.
"Other Masters or Mistresses have affairs with their servants without being shunned by society" Dean tried again and he was ready now, when Sam opened his mouth. "Just listen!" Sam closed his mouth and waited. "If they can do that" Dean stepped closer, making Sam bend his arms, since he still hadn't let up his hold, "then why can't I have an honest relationship with mine without fearing the wrath of other people?"
Sam froze in shock, eyes widening. What was he saying? Could it be…? That's not possible… Dean continued, his voice now barely above a whisper:
"The moment I saw you in the dining room, full of innocence and anxiety, I knew that you were special. I wanted to protect you from everything, to keep you with myself so no one can hurt you… Then I had a chance to witness your other side, right in this very room, while you were playing the piano, passion directing your every move… I wanted that passion to fill me up… I never understood the feelings you raised in me. Why I was getting breathless every time I saw or met you. Why my mind relaxed when you spoke to me. Why my heart skipped a beat when I saw your beautiful smile. But most importantly" Dean cradled Sam's chin with one hand, lifting the boy's gaze up, "why I felt all of these things and so much more from one simple glimpse of your eyes…"
Sam was shaking now, eyes overflowing with tears, not daring to believe what he was hearing. Someone wake me up, he thought desperately, before it's too late…
"I tried to fight it" Dean whispered now, caressing Sam's cheek, wiping the flow of crystals away. "I didn't want to acknowledge it, afraid that if I do, I could lose you… But I can't do it anymore. I have to surrender."
"Sir…" Sam breathed, now afraid himself. "Don't…"
"Sam" Dean cut him off, begging with his eyes to not be rejected. "I need you. I…" he swallowed, before gathering the courage to speak. "I love you."
Sam closed his eyes in pain, tears leaking out profusely. He bowed his head, finally letting the sobs break out of him. He buried his fingers in his hair, gripping it desperately. This can't be happening… Hands rested on his, like they were trying to keep his mind together, not letting it fall apart.
"No…" Sam choked out and the fingers jerked above his own.
"Sam, please…" Dean breathed. The boy's heart broke some more: his Master was begging! "You can't tell me you haven't noticed it. I want you." Dean lifted Sam's head up, looking into the reddened eyes. "I need you. Ever since that day, I knew it, I just didn't realize it until now. I can only live with you by my side. I can see us in the future, having a family… Can't you see it, too? Can't you see a little boy with blonde hair and hazel-green eyes running around in the yard? Or a little girl with beautiful chestnut-brown locks and green eyes giggling her little head off?" Sam couldn't help but laugh himself at the image, but his heart was in pieces now from the emotions exploding inside him.
"I. Want. You" Dean repeated, enunciating every word. "I want a family with you. I want to have children with you, who can fill this huge house with laughter and joy… I love you…"
Sam saw every emotion in the older man's eyes lighting up as Dean spoke the words. They were crystal-clear, but Sam still couldn't believe them.
"Please, sir" he whimpered. "Don't do this…"
Dean's whole expression fell, as his hopes crushed, turning to dust. After all this, after laying his heart out, baring it completely, he's getting rejected? How can life be so cruel to him? However, as he was ready to let Sam go, the boy bowed his head again, fingers returning to their grip, and one short sentence left him:
"Please, don't do this to me…"
Dean felt his heart stop. If there hadn't been silence around them, he couldn't have heard the whisper. Now, though, it seemed his wishes may have a chance to be fulfilled. That one sentence was proof enough that Sam was feeling and suffering the same way as him. Dean just had to show the boy that everything he said was true.
He gently disentangled Sam's fingers from the brown tresses and lowered them. Wrapping his arms around the boy's waist, he stepped closer, pulling the other into his hold. Sam laid his hands onto Dean's chest, one last futile attempt to stop him, but Dean was determined. He leaned closer, his eyes pinning onto those hazel-green crystals…
… and he touched thin, trembling lips with his own.
Sam's eyes widened even more, while Dean's closed in relief. The older man couldn't have been happier. He finally got a taste of those luscious lips framing that blindingly beautiful smile. He pressed his own fuller lips onto them firmly, showing the boy how serious he was about this. As he felt the coldness of a tear against his cheek, he gasped slightly: Sam returned the kiss. The boy's answer was like his personality: innocent, shy, nervous… But as Sam closed his eyes, the flutter of his lashes brushing at Dean's cheek, the light kiss slowly became steadier, stronger and more passionate… It reminded Dean the way the boy was playing the piano: starting out gently, experimenting then landing in the swirl of enjoyment and fervor…
Dean tightened his hold around the slim waist and Sam's hand traveled up and around his neck, pulling him in just a little more. When Dean moved his lips to get a feel of the curve of the boy's mouth, Sam did the same, as well, almost at the same time as Dean. The boy's lips were slightly chapped and as Dean tilted his head some more, salty taste slipped into his mouth…
But it was the most perfect kiss he had ever experienced in his life.
After a couple of minutes they slowly, slightly reluctantly separated. Dean gasped in a silent breath, just searing the feel of the kiss into his mind, never wanting to forget it. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that Sam's were still shut and the boy licked his lips carefully, like he wanted to savor Dean's taste, not wanting to miss one tiny bit of it. However, when Sam looked up, his eyes were still filled with sadness and disbelief. Dean understood it now. The boy had gone through so many terrible things that this one tiny sliver of hope that would guide him towards happiness was too good to be true. Dean realized then that Sam needed to think things through, to let it sink in. Now, he needed time and Dean was more than happy to provide it.
"I'll leave you alone for now" he whispered. "But remember: I love you. And I'll be waiting for you, hoping that one day you can return my feelings. Just promise me that you'll think this over. Don't make me lose you…"
As Dean slowly lowered his arms from around Sam's waist and walked away, disappearing upstairs, Sam stayed in his place, the same thought racing through his mind over and over and over again:
Don't make me lose you…
The closing of a door echoed around the silent mansion, reverberating on the tiles and the walls. Sam stood in the entrance of the Great Ballroom, gazing in front of him into the nothingness. This… Did this happen? Right now? Could it be…? If he thought his lips were burning when Dean had touched them, then they were blazing now from the flames of sin itself after the feel of those full lips. Was it just wishful thinking or reality? After so many crashes into the real world, could this be another piece of it or was it just a part of the comfortable little world that Sam created inside the mansion?
Without realizing it, he began cleaning up the traces of the charity dinner and before knowing it, he was walking towards the servants' quarter, still wracking his brain about the Master's words. Was it really true? The Master couldn't be… He wasn't in love with him…
But as he landed on his bed, ready to take a nap during the rest of the night, one shred of doubt wormed its way into his mind:
… or was he?
TBC
Sooo, did you like it? Please, Read and Review, I really want to know!
Did I keep my promise or did I keep my promise? *smug smirk* I know it's a little angsty but it'll get better... eventually.
Anyway, hope you liked it! See you at the next chapter!