ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!

ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!

AU, OOC, SLASH! (mostly thoughts)

Hey, guys! New chapter here. This is a little deeper, but it's the last step towards the Slash we all wish for. :D

Every answer to Sam's questions is my own interpretation and thoughts. I've never been in love, I just had some crushes.

Alright, enjoy the new chapter!

Chapter 15: What Is Love?

A pair of strong, muscled arms embraced him, pulling him tightly to the warm, firm chest. His hands touched soft skin, when he lifted them up to hold onto the biceps. Gentle tingle spread throughout his skin, emanating from the spot on his neck, right behind his ear. The sweet numbness was caused by the light touch of full lips, caressing him, poisoning him with the sugary ambrosia of lust. A fire ignited in his belly, as fingers joined those lips in their petting. His breaths quickened, his chest jumping erratically as he gasped for air, the unbearable flames swallowing him whole. His hand slid up the muscled back, fingers burying into short tresses, then the warmth of the other body separated slightly from his, moving away far enough for him to moan out loud in want, but staying close enough that he felt the gust of gentle breaths on his heated skin. A pair of jades glinted in the low light…

Sam startled awake, his panting the only sound in the room. His tresses had stuck to his face and forehead from sweat, just like his clothes to his body. His heart was beating a mile a second as the pictures returned into his mind with great force. He needed a few minutes to realize it was a dream… He looked around, searching for weirded out looks, but he only saw sleeping faces in the other beds.

Sam's head landed on his pillow a little harder than was necessary. He just dreamt about his Master in… that way… What was wrong with him? Why would such pictures… such fantasies appear in his dreams? And why was he disappointed that the dream had ended? Why was he feeling such longing for that touch, for that feeling to be real… that fire to burn inside him, flushing his skin deep red… that beautiful pair of eyes looking down at him… watching… observing… admiring…

Sam could barely fight a moan back, biting his lower lip to stay quiet. A small prickle signed that he did it too hard. His hands by his side fisted the sheets and he took shaky breaths to calm himself down, trying to ignore the tight heat in his groin. The fact that the blanket was kicked off of the bed during his dream hadn't registered yet in his mind.

Out of the blue, last night's events slammed back into him, his thoughts circling one instance of them. The memory of those full lips on his explained his very lifelike dream, but it wasn't helping his situation at the moment. A small, barely audible whimper managed to break free and Sam finally lifted a hand to suppress the heat raging inside him.

After a few minutes, Sam's mind cleared out and the height the dream had taken him to was left behind. Sam sighed as he wiped the sweat off his face, leaving his hand on his eyes, as if it could hide him from his thoughts and feelings. He didn't know what to think. How could he be sure if the Master was serious about his feelings? How could he know for certain that Dean had told him the truth… that he loved Sam? And how could Sam know that he loved his Master back that way? He never experienced anything like that. He didn't know what it meant to be in love or be loved.

Sam felt the air stifle him slightly, so he quietly got up and left the bedroom. He walked to the supply closet and took the broom and dustpan out. He might as well do his job if he couldn't sleep.

The sun was slowly rising, a bit early for the servants to be awake. Sam swept the porch up without a hurry, his thoughts miles away from the world around him. What was he feeling for the Master? Was it a twisted sort of gratitude or just affection? How could he be certain of what all of these emotions meant? He paused in his work and closed his eyes, wanting to make sure what was going on with him. After a deep, cleansing sigh, he focused his mind on the Master… Dean… The jade-green eyes… The spiky blonde hair… The cocky smirk on those full lips…

As soon as all of these little pictures flitted into his mind as clear as day, Sam had to swallow against the small knot of nervousness in his stomach. His cheek began burning from a blush, which strengthened when he reached the image of Dean's lips… The shadow of that blazing fire licked at the inside of his belly and Sam had to grip the broom handle tightly to keep himself grounded, or he would've collapsed as his legs turned to jelly from all that stimulation.

Sam quickly opened his eyes and began taking deep breaths. Was this lust? Was this that would fill him every time he became attracted to another person? To another man? But this was only physical reaction. Wasn't love something deeper? Meaningful? Something that would follow you throughout your whole life? Wouldn't love strike into you so suddenly that it would leave you breathless? Wasn't love supposed to mean that you would do anything for the other, even kill?

Sam bit his lip, tasting some blood from the previous nip. He had read so many books about love at first sight, romantic stories with happy endings. Life wasn't working that way, though… or was love an exception? He will ask the other servants about it, he decided and with an affirming nod to himself, he returned to his duties.

The mouthwatering scent of cooking bacon filled the servants' quarter and woke the occupants. When Mark and Ramon sat up in their beds to look around and found Alex scrubbing his eyes sleepily, trying to wake up completely, they frowned in confusion. Who was cooking breakfast?

The three servants walked into the kitchen curiously and stopped in surprise.

"Sam?" Alex spoke softly.

Sam looked up and over his shoulder from his place in front of the stove. He smiled at them, lips shaking from the effort to seem bright, but the purple bruises under his eyes indicated a restless night and the darkened gaze showed a troubled mind.

"Hey, you're up!" Sam exclaimed with weak cheerfulness. "I thought I'd cook something."

"It smells great" Mark, noted, sniffing the air. Sam's smile brightened up, honest happiness shining through, before he turned back to the food. As the others took their seats around the table, the kitchen was filled with the sizzling of oil, the scent of fried eggs joining the aroma of bacon wafting around the room.

After a few minutes, the plates of breakfast were placed onto the table. The others waited for Sam to join them and only then started in on the food.

"Man, this is great" Mark moaned out, taking another bite much quicker than the others.

"I didn't know you can cook" Alex said, looking at Sam questioningly.

"Yeah, your paper said you can't" Ramon added.

"I can't" Sam answered. "This is the only meal I can make. My dad cooked all the time, but sometimes he got so grouchy in the morning that I had to make his breakfast." Sam smiled as he remembered his father's praises at his son's first creation, and he had eaten the whole thing, even though Sam had burnt it because of his lack of experience. "He always asked for bacon and eggs and after a few occasions I mastered it."

"He must have been really proud of that" Alex remarked quietly, sensing the sadness overflowing the boy.

"Yeah, he was" Sam whispered, swallowing against the void that the loss of his family and home created in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he pushed these thoughts away and forced a smile onto his face, trying to reassure everyone that he was fine. The rest of breakfast passed in silence.

"Do you want to make the Master's breakfast today?" Alex asked, when he gathered the empty plates to wash up.

"I-I don't know" Sam replied hesitantly. "I don't want to ruin his meal."

"You won't" Mark assured him, as he stood up to help Alex. "I'm sure he's gonna like it." Sam nodded then and returned to the stove. His hands were shaking and his stomach tied itself into a knot, as his mind chanted over and over: 'Dean is gonna eat what I'm making…' He paid extra attention to his moves, not wanting to mess it up.

After long, long minutes, the bacon and eggs were neatly placed onto the plate and Alex snatched it up to take it to the Master. While the young man was away, Sam replaced him at the sink, washing the dishes with Mark. He couldn't utter out a word, he was so nervous. Would Dean like his meal? Or did Sam do something wrong? Did he put enough pepper on it? And the salt? Was it enough? Did he even put some on it? He couldn't remember…

His small panic attack was interrupted by Alex stepping into the kitchen with the empty plate, a triumphant smirk firmly set on his face.

"So?" Sam asked finally as the young man slid the plate into the sink. He blushed furiously when his trembling voice cracked on that simple syllable. Alex smirked for a few seconds, probably not realizing what torture his silence inflicted on Sam. At last, he answered with a wide grin:

"He liked it very much."

Sam had to grab onto the edge of the sink, when the biggest sigh of relief escaped him. He was sure he would've collapsed into a boneless heap.

"Although" Alex continued and Sam's heart skipped a beat "it was a bit too salty." (1)

Sam snatched his gaze away from the knowing look on his friend's face and blushed even more. His eyes drilled into the dirty water in the sink and he wished he could just drown himself in it.

Stupid food, he thought angrily, pouting to himself. Stupid salt… Stupid saying! He ignored the chuckle from his side, not letting Alex to bait him into a reaction.

"Hey, Sam! If you're done I could use your help" Ramon's voice swooped in like an angel from Heaven to rescue Sam from the deepest pit of Hell. Sam quickly dried his hands and rushed out, following Ramon up to the first floor.

As the sun reached the top of the sky, Sam was slowly scrubbing the marble steps of the front stairs. After helping Ramon to repair one of the bedroom windows, he had gathered the curtains from every room with the older man's assistance. Those were currently in the washing machine. While the machine worked, Sam had decided to clean the steps. He'd noticed some dirt on them and it had started to bother him. His moves were slower, his mind being far away from the task he was doing.

"Here" Ramon's voice cut into his wandering thoughts as he was finishing the last step. Sitting back onto his heels, his eyes landed on a bottle of beer held out towards him. Swallowing nervously, he took the drink out of Ramon's hand, who sat onto the step above the one the boy was cleaning. Sam joined him, throwing the rug into the bucket of water. While Ramon took a big gulp of the beer, Sam picked at the label, feeling embarrassed.

"What?" Ramon asked. "You don't like it?" Sam blushed before replying:

"I've never drunk alcohol before…"

"Really?" Ramon asked incredulously and Sam looked away. "You smoke cigarettes but you've never had a drink? Not even a beer?" Sam shook his head timidly. "Well," Ramon spoke, shrugging his shock off, "there's always a first time."

Sam cautiously lifted the bottle to his lips and mimicked Ramon's actions from before. As he swallowed the slightly bitter liquid, he pulled a face then let out a small cough. Ramon chuckled at him.

"You're gonna get used to it" he murmured, taking another gulp. He was right: as Sam took another, slightly smaller sip of the drink, it tasted better.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam spoke after a while. Ramon, who was watching the scenery in front of them and listening to the songs of the birds, tore his eyes away from the garden and directed all of his attention to the boy, who inwardly appreciated it. "It's kind of a strange question…"

"Shoot" Ramon nodded at him with a gentle smile.

"What do you know about…" Sam trailed off hesitantly, but then carried on, knowing there was no turning back now. "What do you know about… love?"

Seeing Ramon's eyebrows slide up in surprise, Sam already opened his mouth to retract:

"It's stupid, forget it-"

"No, no" Ramon shook his head quickly, laying a hand onto Sam's shoulder to stop him. "You just surprised me. But I'm not exactly an expert in this, since I've never had any partners before." Taking another gulp of the beer, the older man gathered his thoughts, trying to phrase them carefully.

"I'm sure you've read all kinds of books, even ones with romance in them" he started and Sam nodded, paying attention. "Well, I don't think that love is working that way, at least not the fluffy, sappy kind of way." They shared a chuckle at that.

"What's your opinion then?" Sam asked quietly, hoping for an answer to his own problem, as well. "What do you think love is?"

"I think…" Ramon frowned as he considered all this, "I think when you see him or her and your heart literally skips a beat is the starting point of the slide. And the more time you spend together or the more you see them the quicker you slide."

"That's kinda sappy" Sam teased gently.

"Yeah, yeah" Ramon nudged the boy's shoulder playfully. "I'm getting old."

"Is that what you want to happen?" Sam asked, turning serious.

"I'm hoping" Ramon replied softly, and Sam felt the longing coming from the older man. Realizing that Ramon may need some time alone, Sam stood up, clapping the other's shoulder reassuringly, and he returned to the mansion, carrying the bucket with him. He finished his beer with two big gulps, grimacing slightly at the still new taste.

After hanging the laundry out in the backyard, Sam joined the others at lunch. Ramon was absent during the meal and Mark rushed through his food, hurrying out into the garden with a quick kiss to Alex's lips, who just smiled at his lover's haste. Sam recognized the opportunity to speak with Alex.

"Sam?" the boy looked up at his name, as he gathered the dirty plates from the table. Alex was standing next to him with a frown on his features.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked worriedly, quickly putting the plates into the sink so he could listen to the young man's troubles.

"Well, not really" Alex slowly scratched at the back of his head. Sam noticed the shame rolling off of his friend. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was really rude to you."

"It's okay" Sam waved, feeling the hated guilt and shame bubble inside him. "You were nervous and I didn't help any-"

"But it wasn't fair to you" Alex cut in firmly. "You did nothing wrong. Accidents happen, that was no reason to bite your head off. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay" Sam said in a tone of finality. "We're good." His answer brought a relieved smile onto Alex's face and they began washing the dishes together.

"So what's on your mind lately?" the young man questioned, his worried undertone betraying the expression of calm on his face.

"I'm just… sorting things out" Sam answered then took his chance. "Everything looks good with you and Mark."

"Well" Alex shrugged with a blush and a shy smile, "everything is great with us. I'm…" pausing in his task, he turned to Sam with a thoughtful look. "I'm happy… Maybe… maybe I'm in love…"

Silence settled onto the room after that statement. Alex looked unsure, like he was in the middle of convincing himself that what he said was true. Sam watched his friend for anything that could give Alex away or probably help his own inner conflict. Traces of a somewhat smitten look greeted him as he stared intently, a look rather familiar on his own face in the mirror, when Dean is on his mind.

Suddenly Alex blushed and snatched his gaze back to the plate in his hands, drying it furiously. Sam slowly scrubbed at the next plate, thinking the image from before over. Was that how he looked like when he was swept away by the fantasies about him and his Master? Did he wear that dopey look, as well, when the others talked about Dean, or when he met him? The giddy feeling that drugged him every time Dean touched him was certainly a give-away. And after that kiss… He was so dazed he could barely remember how he got back into bed…

"What's it like?" he finally spoke. "To be in love?" Alex thought about his answer for a bit then started in on his explanation:

"Once, back in England, there was a boy in my class. I think it was in high school. He was really cool and handsome and the girls just fell for him one by one. When he occasionally spoke to me I felt nervous and I was stammering like an idiot." Sam chuckled at that, he knew that feeling, from before his father had taken him into hiding. "Basically I had a crush on him.

"Being in love" Alex continued, "means so much more than that. You still have the stammering, the big sighs of hopeless romantics and so on. But instead of just falling for a shell, an outside view, you have the opportunity to see behind that. You adore the personality, the reactions you get by your actions. You have the chance for a peek of the raw person, the core of that person's being… and you want to have another peek at it… you want to care for it…" Alex's voice began trembling slightly. "And the more you get to see it, the more you adore it until suddenly you can't live without those moments… For me, that means love…"

Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat. If that meant falling in love, then Alex was so far down the pit, no one can even see him. The care he showed towards Mark while the younger man was struggling to keep his grip firm on reality… that couldn't be manufactured. And, as Sam thought some more about it, he felt the same longing to see that raw side of Dean when the Master was crying. Even the memory filled him with so much want to hold him during those breakdowns, to help him when he was troubled, to soothe him when he was angry, to love him when in need…

There it was again. Love… Sam felt the recognition grow in him. Had he fallen in love with his Master? The moment he saw him on their first meeting there was a stir inside him. It wasn't like in the books, his heart skipping a bit, his breath taken away… No, none of that. But that one little stir in his gut, in his mind was enough of a start on the slide that took him deeper and deeper into the pit of love.

But how could he know that his feelings are reciprocated? If he considered what Alex told him just now, the Master was attracted to him. He kissed him last night, without any mockery or guilt or hate… He bared his soul to him… And before that, he had taken more care of Sam than any of the other slaves, when Sam had been sick or scared. Even when Sam had been punished because of smoking, he had noticed the fear in Dean's eyes – well, when he had the guts to glance into them – that he would lose Sam like he had lost his uncle.

"How do you know he loves you?" he asked Alex, wanting to get a certain aspect.

"Well" Alex put the last plate away, before taking the fork Sam was holding out for him, "every time I look into his eyes, I see the same kind of flame I feel inside me when I think of him or when he touches me or just looks at me. Every one of his touches speak the same language my body is using when I'm with him. I always feel like I'm treasured, that I'm the only one, whom he would ever be like this to. And, of course, he trusts me. He lets me in… With Mark, that speaks more of love than anything else."

Dean let Sam in on his feelings. He risked losing the person he loves for only a hope that Sam would return his feelings. Dean trusted Sam with this…

"Thanks" Sam breathed. Alex smiled at him tenderly and they finished up in silence.

Sam slowly walked out onto the backyard, needing some fresh air after the deep conversation he had with Alex. He felt like his soul was rubbed raw by the conflicting emotions inside him. The war between his heart and his mind was wrecking havoc relentlessly. He felt a strange burning under his skin, as if his inner self wanted to rip through the outer shell, the façade.

Sam reached a bigger tree and sat down, enjoying the slight breeze that ruffled the leaves above him, plucking some of them off and blowing it away. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, to cool off. He tried to get some peace, but something, something was nagging at him and he couldn't see what it was and couldn't scratch at it to get some temporary relief. He was clueless of what to do with that feeling…

As he was wallowing in his misery, the presence of someone next to him, watching him, raised the hairs on his arms.

"Hey, you okay?" Mark asked. Sam looked up just as the young man took a seat next to him, keeping his gaze on Sam in case something happens, something snaps…

"I don't know" Sam replied truthfully.

"Anything I can help with?" Mark offered, scooting slightly closer, worry filling his eyes. Sam sighed then asked away:

"How do you know you love Alex?"

Mark seemed slightly taken aback at the question then – to Sam's fear – understanding flitted across his face.

"I can trust him with anything" he spoke. "When I'm with him, I feel like I'm normal, like I'm the happiest guy on Earth… I feel like I'm floating in the air just from a whiff of his scent or a glimpse of his beautiful eyes… And when we kiss… Woah!" Mark shook his head slightly, eyes staring into the sky but not seeing anything. Sam thought about this, as well. He didn't have the chance to experience that, although… that kiss was something, he had to admit that…

"And how do you know he loves you?" Sam asked. The dopey grin dimmed a little as Mark returned to the ground.

"He takes such a good care of me" Mark replied softly. "He lets me lean onto him and lets himself unwound by my side. I just… I don't know… I'm 100 percent sure that he loves me. And I love him."

Sam remembered last night at that. He had been in the servants' quarter's, behind the entrance door, looking through the arriving guests. When his father hadn't shown up, the only firm wall he could lean against with enough faith that would hold him up was Dean – and he did. He felt cherished and treasured under Dean's scrutiny and mother-henning. The man's hands were like banisters between him and the ocean of despair. It was like Sam belonged into those arms, as if his body fit perfectly like a piece of puzzle to the growing picture.

"Do you love him?" Mark asked out of the blue. Sam snapped his gaze at him in fear.

"W-Who?" he stuttered out, but he only received a knowing smile. He swallowed nervously, not liking how those eyes could read him. "I don't know…"

"Yes, you do" Mark replied softly. "You just need to see it. And the fact that he loves you, too." With that Mark pulled Sam into a brief hug and left to continue his work on the garden. Sam felt the air stifle him, which was strange considering he was outside. He gasped against it then jumped to his feet, gathering the laundry and rushing inside with them. He forced himself not to think about this for a while. Just for a little while…

The nights had never ever been this long and torturous like this one. Even when Sam had been captured and had spent his first evening in a cage, or when he'd slept in his bed the first night in the mansion – they'd never been this bad. Sam had already turned to every possible position he could lie in, his cover on the ground in a rumpled heap. He felt exhausted, but everything was so hot around him. Even the clothes bothered him, even the silence got on his nerves. The darkness was slowly pushing his limits because it was like some projecting screen for an unlimited reel of his thoughts.

He was so confused now. His fantasies jumbled up with the other servants' answers on what love is, as he pictured those scenes. His real experiences didn't help, either. He gripped at his hair desperately. Why does all this have to happen to him? Why couldn't he have a simple life like all the others? Finding a nice girl or guy, living in a house with white picket fence, having kids, a dog or maybe a cat… Anything that even resembles normal! Instead, he was stuck in the longest drama he had ever encountered, with him in the middle of it.

With a soft growl, he rolled out of his bed and left the bedroom. Before he knew it, he was at the sink with a glass of cold water in his hand. He took a small sip of it, just enjoying the cool liquid washing down his throat. He felt his clothes stick onto his damp skin, sweaty from all the moving around he did. He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall: it was 1:34. He sighed, feeling himself slowly going crazy. His throat tightened against a frustrated sob that tried to escape him. Why? Why? WHY?

All of a sudden he slammed the glass down onto the counter, not even noticing the drops of water landing onto the surface. With a deep breath, he marched out of the kitchen, only one thought running through his mind:

To hell with it…

Dean watched the moonlight shining through his bedroom window. The shadows it created were dancing slightly as the curtain and the tree branches moved in the breeze. He was sitting on his sofa for God knows how many hours now, the previous night the only thing in his mind. He couldn't forget the broken look in Sam's eyes when Dean had confessed. He couldn't leave the memory of Sam's soft lips behind. His skin was crawling with want, the want to see that beautiful shade of green eyes, to hold the lean body close, to embrace the slim waist… to taste those lips again…

Dean combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. Why couldn't things get simpler? Why did they have to thicken instead? He was such an idiot to fall in love with someone he couldn't have, but he would be damned to let it go now. Just… why couldn't Sam see that? Why couldn't Sam understand that Dean was, is serious about this? The boy was too precious to him, ever since he had stepped through the door of the dining room on the first day. The moment his eyes had taken him in completely, he was doomed.

But it had happened before that… On the day Sam had been bought from the institution. When Dean had seen him stretched out on the backseat with only a pair of sweatpants on… His torso lean and showing some ribs despite the good treatment… Dean had just wanted to cradle him in his arms and never let him go. To care for him, to love him… When he had seen the straps digging into the pale skin of the wrists, Dean had pulled over and cut it off himself with his knife. He still remembered the anger that had boiled inside him at the sight of the reddened, bloody skin. While he had treated them, Sam had been sleeping like a baby, but still trembling, possibly because of his wrecked nerves.

Dean stood up, lowering his hands. He's been lost to the world since that moment, only tumbling through the fog of love that surrounded him. He had noticed the small similarities between him and Sam and Alex and Mark. The other two was so far deep in love that it was too obvious for everyone except for them. He realized Sam had been acting around him like Alex most of the time, but on a few occasions he was just like Mark, especially on the evening of the charity dinner. The boy had leaned onto Dean, when he broke down so many times, like Mark leaned onto Alex when he had one of his episodes. Dean was also similar to Mark when Sam was close to him, but he kept up his strong façade like Alex when it was necessary.

So many similarities… So many signs… And Sam was still unsure! And that drove Dean mad! If something doesn't happen in the next couple of days, he will take matters into his own hands. It can't go on like this.

A soft, uncertain knock came from the back door of his bedroom. The clock showed 1:35. Who would want to see him at this hour? From the back hallway? He slowly approached the door and hesitated, unsure of what to expect on the other side. His indecision was cut short by another, slightly stronger knock. Dean finally stepped closer and opened the door. What greeted him was certainly not someone he would've thought would be.

"Master" Sam whispered, eyes downcast and hands wringing each other.

TBC

(1) There's a saying in Hungary that if a girl overuses the salt in her cooking, she's very much in love. I don't know if it's known in other countries.

So, how was it? Was it good? Or at least edible? Personally I like it... *mumbles to herself uncertainly*

Anyway, please Read and Review! It would make my day. :D

Oh, before I forget, would you like me to write Alex/Mark scenes without Sam or Dean (or both) in them? (I mostly mean one PARTICULAR scene *winkwinknudgenudge* ;)) Or should I stick with the Sam/Dean storyline? That applies to Ramon/Newbie scenes (hope you hadn't forget him yet).

Alright, see you at the next chapter!