ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!
AU, OOC, moderate (?) SLASH! (I'm on a roll! ;D)
Hey, guys! I'm really sorry for updating so late! I just got my diploma and started hunting for a job.
I'm sure you're gonna like what's in this chappy. Even I was blushing as I was writing it.
I tried to show the differences between the two brothers, which were noticed on the show, even though they do the exact same things. (You know, Sam being shy and Dean being so confident, but then Sam becomes wild and Dean becomes gentle... You know what I'm talking about. ;D)
Alright, enough rambling! Enjoy the new chappy!
The sun was already resting under the horizon, covering the world and the sky with its navy-blue blanket. The golden beams of the porch light and the kitchen lamp's glow through the window landed on a huddled form sitting on the stairs, leaning against the railing. The tall body looked so small like a little kid's, shoulders hunched, legs pulled to the chest, arms, though loosely, wrapped around them.
Sam had been sitting on the stairs since Harry left him there, trying to wait for the boy's return, but exhaustion pulled him away from his quest and eventually he had fallen asleep in his seat. His head was resting against the railing, as well, long locks falling into his face, covering the blisters on his cheek, a couple hairs at his nose fluttering up at every even exhale. He looked so peaceful without the wrinkles of worry lining his forehead.
He was so deeply asleep, he didn't even rouse from the pair of eyes that had been watching him for minutes now, neither did he startle awake from cautious steps walking up to him from behind. He did snort quietly, blinking his eyes open, when a soft blanket was laid onto him, keeping him from the slight cold that began creeping up on him.
"Bobby?" he croaked out sleepily as the haze cleared out of his mind. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself as he watched the older man take a seat next to him. Bobby looked towards the end of the yard, as if he knew Harry had gone that way, and Sam couldn't help but follow his gaze. There was still no sign of the boy, though. "Is he…?"
"Not yet" Bobby replied in his usual gruff tone. They sat there in silence, Sam fidgeting uncomfortably and not just from the stinging in his backside. "Don't worry, kid" Bobby spoke again, obviously catching his shifting and discomfort. "Your brother did a number on ya already."
"Thanks" Sam whispered in a guilty tone, lowering his head like a chided little boy. "I'm really sorry, though…"
"But know this" Bobby turned towards him with a glare of fatherly concern. "If you or any of you idjits do somethin' like this again, I'm gonna be the first you will answer to. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir" Sam replied without hesitation. He'd never felt so subdued for a long time.
"And don't think I singled you out just because you were the first one to screw up. I already talked to Dean and Kyle, as well." Sam just nodded, not having a reason to doubt the older man's words. "However" Bobby continued, "I have my own punishment for you this time, so listen carefully."
Sam began trembling despite himself. Bobby was very creative with his punishments, using up his knowledge about things they hated the most. One time when they were teenagers and Dean had snuck out to a party without permission and got caught, Bobby had made him read through every book in his house and make notes about the contents that the older man had checked thoroughly. Bobby hadn't had trouble sending Dean back to quite a few books to do it over and over again. In the end, Dean had never snuck out again – at least not while they were at Bobby's. So Sam was justifiably wary of the older man's punishment.
"You're grounded for a week" Bobby said firmly, making sure Sam was paying attention. "You are going to help around the house and from tomorrow if I see even one of your toes over the threshold of this house I will pound your ass into next week and you will be grounded for one whole month, understand?"
"Yes, sir" Sam's voice wavered at the unabashed disappointment in Bobby's tone. He swallowed against the tears threatening to spill out.
"If you don't break these rules then when you're free to go I expect a full report every time you leave the house. I don't care if you come out to the backyard for a piss, you are going tell me first. And this will go on until I see fit. One backtalk and your ass is grass. Capiche?"
"Yes, sir" Sam sniffed out, tears sliding down his cheeks. God, how could he behave like such a weak pansy? Dean was right, he was a girl! An arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him towards Bobby. He let the older man bring him into a hug, stroking his hair soothingly. Sam let loose a couple of sobs into the worn vest, clutching at the old material desperately.
"Okay, kiddo" Bobby soothed him gruffly. "Don't work yourself up, alright?" Sam gasped in a breath a couple of times, trying to rein his sobs in, but he had a hard time. He felt emotionally unstable after everything. He sniffed and hiccupped loudly, body jerking from the force, but Bobby didn't say a word, just held him together. He tried to swallow, hoping to stop his outburst, but the muscles in his throat were seizing so hard it hurt.
After a couple minutes his gasps turned into small hitches, his body settling down into fine tremors from sudden jolts, his head pounding from another rush of exhaustion. He could've stayed in Bobby's embrace for hours, wanting to feel the fatherly hold around him, but he didn't want to make the other man uncomfortable. As he pulled away, Bobby patted his cheek affectionately then stood up.
"If he doesn't come back by midnight, you better get inside" he said, leaving Sam to wipe the tears away in privacy. "Or I will get you myself."
"Y-Yes, sir" Sam answered, his breath still hitching now and then. The only thing meeting his response was the click of the backdoor. Sam pulled the blanket tighter around his body, crossing his arms on his knees and laying his head onto them. He was grateful that Bobby's punishment was this light, although he had a guess that it was because Dean got to him first. In that case, Sam felt relief wash over him. Who knew how he could've survived Bobby's punishment? He was certain he wouldn't be able to sit now if it had happened like that.
His hazel green eyes slid onto the horizon, hoping for the familiar form to approach, but the only thing greeting him was the fusing of the dark ground and almost black sky over the fence. Will Harry be back? Will Sam even be forgiven? He would understand if not, but it would sure as hell hurt. Sam could just hope that during Harry's walk the boy will find it in himself to forgive him and will return to him. Sam then would be able to show Harry how sorry he was and how much he loved the boy. He would even apologize to Jade – he has to, anyway. Hopefully he'll get the chance.
"Ten minutes, Samuel!" came Bobby's voice from the house, alerting him. Sam closed his eyes at his full name. He hated it, especially in that tone. He always felt like a kid waiting for scolding after doing a nasty but harmless prank when he was called that way. He buried his head into his arms, hiding the resurfacing tears. God, when will this be over?! He hated feeling so low, lower than dirt! This means that everyone will keep an eye on him, not trusting him one bit. Why did he have to be such a moron?!
Out of the blue, a small hand combed through his long hair, making him freeze. He would recognize those fingers, the tender touch anywhere. He carefully looked up, not daring to believe, to hope… There's no way in Hell…
And there he was: pale features, messy ebony-black locks, wide, glittering emerald eyes, thin rosy lips, a white line of a healed scar in a shape of a lightning bolt… The fingers now slid down onto his cheek, cupping it lovingly and wiping the teardrop away with a thumb before caressing his skin…
"Harry…" Sam breathed, voice choked from the closing of his throat, eyes never leaving the crouching form and the grim but softened features. Harry stood up and Sam straightened in his seat, legs falling onto the ground. Instantly Harry stepped between them and sat onto one of his thighs. Sam wrapped his arms around the boy's slim waist tightly and buried his face into the warm chest. He felt those lithe arms wrap around his shoulders and head in response and could've cried from joy when a hand caressed his locks lovingly. Harry pressed a kiss onto the top of his head before shushing him and his returning sobs.
"It's alright, you idiot" Harry spoke quietly, his tone fond despite the words. "I'm not leaving you… I love you too much for that…"
"L-Love you, too…" Sam answered, voice muffled by the boy's shirt.
"Yeah, who would've thought?" Harry said almost to himself. "I must be totally bonkers."
They sat there for a while, Harry rocking Sam to calm him, holding the young man just as tightly as he was held. They forgot about the world around them, about the past events, just concentrating on this moment, a moment shared between them. They felt at peace in each others' arms, no worries and anger, just love and forgiveness and hope for the future…
This was shattered, though, by real life – and a voice behind them:
"Samuel, inside, now!"
When they pulled apart and turned towards the backdoor, they met with Bobby's stern gaze, who was standing in the doorway, waiting. Harry got off of Sam, who immediately jumped to his feet and rushed up the stairs with a meek "Yes, sir". Sam folded the blanket while making his way into the house and placed it onto the couch before joining Harry at the stairs and retiring with him into their room. He knew the next week will be like torture for him, not being able to leave the house, but it will be worth it, if Harry stayed by his side.
As the rays of the sun shone through the window, Harry was staring at the smooth, peaceful face next to him. The previous night, while they were getting ready to sleep, Harry noticed how broken Sam had become without him to hold the young man together. While Sam changed into his pajamas, Harry caught the bones protruding under the man's skin much more than normal. Sam must have known how his body looked like because he had put on a long-sleeved shirt instead of a T-shirt, and sweat pants. The clothes were big, making Sam look small and fragile…
That's why Harry was holding Sam protectively in his arms now and not the other way around.
Harry was constantly brushing at Sam's shoulder blade with his thumb, up and down, up and down… He knew if he stopped, Sam would become restless and upset, whimpering and moaning Harry's name. The boy hadn't even known how much Sam depended on him… Maybe even more than Harry depended on Sam…
Sam whimpered again, burrowing close to Harry, his head sliding up from the boy's chest to the crook of his neck, the hand lying on Harry's shoulder fisting the boy's thin T-shirt, while the other arm wrapped around Harry's waist tightened its hold desperately. Harry instantly realized what was wrong: during his reminiscence his thumb stilled. The reaction just proved what a vulnerable state Sam was in right now…
"Shhh…" Harry soothed the young man, restarting his thumb's motions, while his free hand stroked Sam's long, unkempt locks. "I'm here, love… I'm here…" His whispered words brought relief: Sam's tensing body relaxed with a sigh, the fist loosening up, fingers curving around Harry's shoulder in a gentle hold. "That's it… Everything's fine…" Harry crooned, pressing a loving kiss onto Sam's temple. His free hand slid down onto Sam's cheek, caressing the pale skin and slightly protruding cheekbone tenderly, swallowing guiltily. He felt responsible for Sam's state, physical and mental. If he hadn't been such a coward, none of this would've happened…
He pressed another soothing kiss onto Sam's locks and his free hand stroked the man's forearm lying on his chest. Suddenly out of the corner of his eyes he caught the flash of a dark, thin line sailing through the pale skin of Sam's wrist. Harry frowned in confusion and turning his gaze onto the man's arm, he carefully pulled the sleeve of the shirt down. What greeted him made his stomach churn and anger rise in him.
It was a scar, barely healed despite the magic aiding Sam. The line started from the top of the forearm and ran towards the underside, disappearing at the wrist and Harry's chest. As Harry pulled the sleeve down even more, his thumb brushed another hardened line. Another scar appeared from under the material, this time running the other way.
Harry tightened his hold on Sam, battling tears of anger and guilt. Was this the real reason why Sam was hiding his body under the clothes? Thinking about it, he hadn't seen Sam in a T-shirt ever since he returned to reality.
Sam shifted again then settled down with a sigh, head back on Harry's chest, ear pressed against it on the boy's heart. Harry had to shut his eyes and force his mouth to stay closed. Even this broken and hurt, Sam's first thought was Harry. The boy didn't know if he should be grateful or smack Sam on the head for being such an idiot.
Looking the taller, yet somehow smaller, man over, Harry caught a glimpse of pale, once dark skin on Sam's side, peeking out under his shirt that slid up with the man's shifting. It wasn't the skin that caught his attention, though: it was the dark, wider line sailing through it.
"Oh, Sammy" Harry breathed, showering Sam's head with tender, loving, guilty kisses. "I'm so sorry…"
How much had Sam suffered while Harry was away? The boy knew the cuts were reminders of the torture Meg had made Sam go through. Harry just couldn't understand why the injuries hadn't healed yet. Sam's magic should've sped the process up, but those cuts looked one, maybe two, instead of several days old. Although, the marks on Harry's wrists caused by those strange ropes were in the same state. It must be the dark magic in them… And the knife…
Not wanting to wake Sam from his peaceful dreams, Harry cautiously reached down and brushed the hard line with his fingertips. He was trying to think of a way to help Sam's discomfort – and possibly pain. The man didn't deserve anything of it… even after the completely moronic actions he had done the past week.
The slap of a hand and the vice-like grip on his wrist made Harry jump. He was trying to lift Sam's shirt to assess the damage under it. Looking up with a startle, he met with thunderous hazel-green eyes above him almost spitting lightning bolts at Harry.
Sam was awake… and he didn't like Harry's snooping around.
Suddenly Sam pushed himself off of Harry and swung his legs over the side of the bed, back towards Harry. Even though he was angry, when Sam sat up, his shoulders were slumped in defeat and shame. Harry could feel those feelings emanating from the man, burning his skin with intensity.
Harry couldn't watch Sam like this: he had to do something. So, he crawled to Sam, smoothing a hand onto his shoulder in comfort then kneeling to the other's side, he straddled Sam, drawing a surprised look onto Sam's long face. The boy noticed long locks hiding half of Sam's face – and the blisters covering it. Harry lifted his hand up to brush the hairs away. Sam, though, snatched his head away, turning his injured cheek away from Harry.
The boy was relentless, however: he grasped Sam's chin and turned his face back, ignoring the whimper in reply with some difficulty. Keeping Sam still, he used his other hand to reveal the injury, repressing a grimace at the sight, but not the gathering tears. Sam's face fell when he saw that, and he shook his head, cupping his lover's face with both hands and peppering it with small, tender kisses.
Harry closed his eyes as Sam's lips skimmed over them, before he pulled away and smiled at Sam ruefully. The man shook his head once again, drilling his gaze into Harry's, but there was no convincing Harry that this wasn't his fault.
Emerald green orbs took in the burnt eyelids sticking together in the corner, the blisters on Sam's cheek pink and painful-looking. This time Sam's tears started to flow, not able to bear his lover's scrutiny of the remnants of his failure, so Harry pulled the broken man into his arms and kissed his temple. Sam buried his face into the crook of Harry's neck, shoulders shaking from the sobs puffing against the boy's skin. They held each other tight, not willing to let go, not even for all the money in the world.
With a sudden idea, Harry combed his fingers through Sam's locks, turning the man's head so the uninjured cheek was leaned against his shoulder. Acting very gently, not wanting to cause even more pain to his broken lover, he pressed his lips onto the corner of Sam's eye, trying to convey his feelings and love with that move. Sam's hands curled into fists, holding onto Harry's shirt like a lifeline and Harry knew that the man was afraid. Afraid that Harry will be disgusted, that he will push Sam away… Harry had other plans, though.
Leaving his lips on the tender spot for a couple seconds, Harry pulled back a fraction then pressed his lips onto Sam's cheek, just under Sam's eye. Sam flinched as the boy touched the first blister with his mouth, even though it was barely noticeable. Harry was unsure if that meant Sam was scared or in pain. After a couple seconds Harry laid another kiss onto Sam's cheek, just a millimeter under the previous spot.
Sam's hold tightened and tightened as Harry moved lower and lower on his face. It seemed like minutes, maybe even an hour, until Harry reached the corner of Sam's mouth. As soon as the boy pulled away, Sam lifted his head from his shoulder and molded their lips together in a desperate kiss. Harry's hand slid onto Sam's neck, lovingly caressing the pulse point with his thumb, while Sam deepened their kiss, weaving his tongue around Harry's in a fierce, slightly panicked dance. Harry let him do what he wanted, answering the way he felt Sam needed him to. He needed to show the man that Harry wasn't gonna run screaming for the hills because of Sam's injury… That he would love Sam the same after everything…
Their long moment was interrupted by a knock on the door then Bobby's voice, muffled by the wood:
"Breakfast in ten!"
Sam flinched again at the older man's voice, seemingly afraid of him. Harry kissed him firmly, messaging him that he was here and by Sam's side, no matter what. Sam sighed as the boy pulled away, sending a grateful look to him when he opened his eyes. Harry got off of Sam with a smile, beginning to dress. As he buttoned his jeans, he noticed Sam quickly shucking off his shirt and snatching up another long-sleeved one.
Before Sam could put on the shirt, Harry appeared in front of him, holding his hands down. Sam wanted to sink into the floor, to dig a hole and crawl in to die. He tried covering himself, his injuries but Harry was surprisingly strong. The boy stepped closer to him, chest brushing at Sam's, eyes piercing through Sam's soul with an intense fire in them.
He was startled out of the trance that those emerald crystals put him into, when fingers brushed at one of the wider cuts on his stomach. He swallowed down a hiss as the sensitive skin flared up with pain. He began shaking as the fingers closed in on the scars Meg put on him spelling out that awful word. Harry frowned at that and shifted his gaze onto the injuries, the flames in the irises growing from fury. However, when the boy leaned down and laid a kiss onto the first letter, he was anything but harsh and burning: he was tender and warm and loving… And that almost made Sam burst into tears again.
"I'm gonna help you, Sam" Harry stated in a firm, non-negotiable tone after straightening up. "This will be over soon."
"You've done enough already" Sam breathed, not daring to speak louder at the stabbing gaze looking back at him, even though the anger in them wasn't directed to him. Harry looked like he wanted to argue, but instead:
"Let's go…"
When they arrived downstairs and into the kitchen, they only found Bobby in there, making breakfast. Sam seemed to shrink into himself at the sight of the man and Harry wanted to know why. Bobby didn't look any different than before, his face wasn't drawn into a menacing frown, his eyes weren't blazing with anger… Although, what Sam had done must have infuriated the older man and maybe he had talked to Sam while Harry was clearing his head.
Nevertheless, he grabbed Sam's hand and pulled on it, when his lover froze in the doorway.
"Morning" Harry greeted Bobby with a smile, hearing a meek "Morn'n'" from Sam next to him, whose head was lowered in shame.
"Mornin'" Bobby replied as usual. "Could you set the table, Harry?"
"Of course" Harry nodded then turned to Sam. "You just sit down, alright?" Sam nodded and instantly made his way to the table. Harry got the plates out of a cabinet and set them onto the table with the silverware. Reaching Sam, he internally sighed at the man's slumped pose, hair fallen into his face like curtains, hands fisted and trembling. Harry reached out and brushed the long locks out of the injured cheek and behind Sam's ear.
His action jolted Sam out of his wallowing and he glanced up at the boy, hand already reaching up, out of reflex, to hide his face with his hair. Harry, however, just grabbed his lover's hand tenderly and pressed a kiss onto the shaky fingers before setting them onto the tabletop, keeping them there for a moment.
"Just through breakfast, okay?" he murmured, brushing the rest of Sam's hair out of his face. As Harry's palm brushed at Sam's uninjured cheek, Sam closed his eyes briefly and leaned into it. After a resigned sigh, the young man nodded, to which Harry sent him a smile and pressed a tender kiss onto the blisters on his face. Sam could just feel Bobby's gaze on them, but not heavy as he expected, which helped him relax.
"Mornin'!" came Dean's slightly chirpy voice from the kitchen doorway. Harry stroked Sam's hair lovingly before returning to Bobby's side to help with breakfast. Sam swallowed nervously, scared of what Dean would say to his injury, his hand itching to hide it behind his hair.
"Well, you're in a good mood" Bobby grumbled good-naturedly. Dean just smirked cheekily then made his way to the table. Taking a seat next to his brother, he sent a smile to Sam, who relaxed immensely at the lack of reaction to his injury.
"Mornin', Sammy" Dean greeted him as if nothing had happened in the past days.
"M-Morning, Dean…" Sam answered timidly, still a bit taken aback by his brother's quick forgiveness. Kyle joined them on Dean's other side, nodding at Sam with a smile. The next moment Harry was at the table, serving up bacon and eggs for all of them.
Breakfast had gone by mostly uneventfully. They didn't talk too much, most conversations held by Bobby and Dean about the cars outside in the garage. Sam occasionally glanced up at Harry, assuring himself that the boy was still here with him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Kyle's slightly concerned gaze directed to him multiple times. It made him want to hide the blisters again, but then Harry switched his hand on his fork, eating left-handed, while his right hand slipped onto Sam's free one, grasping it firmly.
The others noticed the small scene, but didn't comment. They knew Sam was really insecure about everything, thanks to his actions and injuries. Dean was slightly worried, as well, as he saw the small twitches of Sam's hand, only held in place by Harry's firm hold… As if he tried to do something… Maybe hide his face…
"Alright" Bobby spoke once they finished their meals. "I'll see you outside then, Dean. I could really use your help with work." Dean nodded, standing up with the older man to change into clothes fitting for car-tuning. "Samuel!" Everyone jumped at the barked order, especially Sam, who snapped his gaze up from Harry's hand. "Wash up, now! Then sweep up the kitchen!"
"Y-Yes, sir…" Sam murmured, realizing what was going on. He caught Harry opening his mouth in protest, but one squeeze of his hand stopped the boy.
"I trust you know where the broom is" Bobby continued.
"Yes, sir…"
With that, Bobby left the house through the back door. Dean turned to Sam then shrugged helplessly at his brother's crushed look, patting Sam's shoulder encouragingly as he passed him. Kyle smiled at Sam sadly before disappearing in Bobby's study, probably pouring over the books as he had been doing since the hunt.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry snapped, when he remained alone with Sam. The young man was already out of his seat, gathering the plates. "It was completely uncalled for. He doesn't have any right to boss you around-"
"He has every right" Sam interrupted him as he dumped the plates into the sink. "I deserve it. After everything…" Sam choked on his words, so he turned to the sink to fill it with water.
"He can't use you as a slave!" Harry seemingly got angry at Sam's nonchalance.
"He's not using me as a slave" Sam countered firmly. "He's punishing me."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
"I did something stupid so I have to face the consequences" Sam explained as he shut the water off. "Like with Dean. Bobby just has his own ways… Just leave it, okay?" he added when he saw Harry's remaining anger. Harry, no matter how furious, was not even close to immune to Sam's puppy eyes. He just sighed, having a feeling that no matter how much he bitches about this, it would just make things worse, probably for Sam.
"Fine, I won't say anything" he acquiesced reluctantly. It was worth for Sam's slight smile of gratitude. "I'll leave you to your… 'work' then." With that he pressed a kiss onto Sam's lips and retreated upstairs.
The day passed by peacefully. Bobby from time to time checked on Sam, giving him chores when he found him lying around, looking even remotely bored. Sam did them without a fuss, but he knew that wouldn't last long, knowing himself.
By the afternoon he was tired. He cleaned the kitchen's every spot and tidied up his and Harry's room – although, that was voluntary. Bobby even asked him to start organizing his tomes, but forbade him to read them in the meantime, effectively taking the fun out of that chore, too. Sam was done with the stack in the living room, the shelves full, a couple in a system Bobby was used to. The older man had come in as he finished with the last completely organized bookshelf and stopped him. Sam knew Bobby wanted to stretch this chore through the whole week, so Sam would be occupied.
So, as the afternoon rolled in, Sam plopped down onto the living room couch, where Harry was reading, and leaned his heavy head back with a sigh. There was a small silence between them then Sam heard the closing of the book and the sound of it being put onto a flat, solid surface: the coffee table. The next moment a hand grasped his arm, pulling Sam to the side, until the young man's head lay on Harry's shoulder. The hand pulling him then went to Sam's temple and began massaging it. Sam groaned in pleasure and shifted so he could wrap his arms around Harry. The boy's free hand started caressing the arm around his torso.
"H'v' I tol' you I l've you?" Sam mumbled sleepily into Harry's neck, eyes closed, his mind relieved of the weight.
"I think you mentioned it occasionally" Harry answered with a chuckle, finding Sam cute like this. Sam huffed out a soundless laugh.
"Sam?" Kyle's tentative voice broke their moment up. As the two looked up slightly irritated at the intrusion, they noticed even Kyle looked very apologetic for disturbing their peace. "Can we talk?"
"Sure" Sam replied, straightening up with a smile. His hand, though, searched out Harry's, holding onto it like that contact was the only thing that mattered in this world. Harry smiled shyly at that implication.
"Listen" Kyle started as he took a seat next to Sam. "I just want to apologize for how I treated you. I was kind of a… dick to you."
"It's okay" Sam waved Kyle off with a smile, when he saw his genuineness. "You had every right to be angry at me. I was an idiot."
"No arguments here" Kyle jabbed at Sam lightly. Sam laughed quietly at that. "But seriously" Kyle continued, turning serious. None of them noticed Dean in the doorway, watching the scene with a smile. "I hope we're okay." The boy laid a hand onto Sam's arm.
"We're good, don't worry" Sam replied without hesitation, honesty shining in his eyes. Kyle smiled as he stood up, letting his hand slide down Sam's arm before taking it away and turning to leave.
Out of the blue, a ferocious hiss broke the peace. Sam could barely register the happenings before acting on instinct. One moment he was relaxing that everything was fine with him and Kyle, the next he's tensing up again, trying to keep a fiercely struggling and wildly hissing Harry from attacking Kyle. The boy had practically stomped over Sam's lap to jump at the other and Sam barely had time to wrap him tightly in his arms before any serious damage could've happened. The most surprising thing didn't turn out to be Harry's fit, though.
It was the sudden yowl and hiss leaving Kyle's mouth, aiming them to Harry.
The older boy was in a tight grip, as well, as Dean struggled to keep his lover still. At first he had tried to get him out of harm's way, but suddenly he found himself in the same position as his brother: trying to prevent any serious damage.
The brothers were shocked to the core. There wasn't any indication that the two boys fought with or disliked each other. In fact, they were good friends, helping and supporting each other. Then what was it that made them turn against each other? And what was up with Kyle and his… feline behavior?
Sam had to return to reality and tighten his hold on his lover, when Harry made another attempt to leap out of his arms and onto Kyle. In answer, Kyle's hand flew out of Dean's hold and slashed at Harry with claw-shaped fingers, luckily only reaching air. Both boys were yowling and hissing and spitting at each other.
"Hey, HEY!" Sam cried out as Harry almost slipped out of his arms.
"That's enough!" Dean butted in, dragging Kyle a few inches away from Harry. Both of them were unsure who they were more worried about: their own lovers or each other's?
Finally, Dean was able to get Kyle out of the room and even out of the house, judging by the slam of the back door. Sam tried to shush Harry, to calm him and reassure him of anything just to get him to relax, but nothing was working. With a sudden idea, he wrapped one arm around Harry's chest, while his other hand traveled teasingly down the boy's stomach and thigh. As he nuzzled Harry's neck from behind, the boy tensed then relaxed. Soon a deep rumble began echoing around the room, which Sam recognized as… purring?
Suddenly, Harry's body flipped around in his arms, moving like liquid, until the boy was facing Sam. His eyes were a slightly lighter shade of emerald than what Sam was used to. With that, Sam became uncertain that Jade was throwing a possessive – although admittedly hot – fit, like the subtle one in the hospital. Harry's fingers combed through Sam's hair then gripping the locks firmly, he yanked the young man into a fierce, aggressive kiss. Sam winced as their teeth collided from the force and he instinctively put his hands onto Harry's shoulders, ready to push him away.
The next moment, he was leaning against the back of the couch, his hands pushed to each side of his head by two strong, tight holds. His neck was ravaged by hungry lips, the sucking taking his breath away. The sudden change of position left him dazed and slightly dizzy, so he needed a few moments to notice the slow slide of his shirt up his chest. The lips on his neck made their way down onto his chest, licking gently at the cuts littering his torso. Sam flinched, trying to shy away out of reflex and shame, but Harry just followed his movements.
Slowly, the hands holding his arms down slipped off, wandering down Sam's forearms and tickling the young man's sides. As Harry was searching for all the possible spots that could be licked and kissed on Sam's chest, two sets of fingers began massaging Sam's thighs, thumbs digging into the muscles of the inner-thighs. Sam gasped, wishing those hands would move upwards just a little bit, only to hate himself for thinking such things about his innocent, traumatized lover. He couldn't stop the rise of his hips, though, searching for some relief desperately.
The torture went on for a long, long, LONG while and Sam was going out of his mind by the teasing, 'just fucking do something already…!' The clink of his belt buckle, however, brought him out of his lust-induced state of mind. Looking up, he caught quick hands yanking off his jeans and boxers at the same time, and Sam had to do something before he could alienate his lover by giving into temptation…
"Jade, no…" Sam breathed, still gasping for air, a moan leaving him when a nose brushed his hardening length. "Jade, dammit, stop!" He tried to grab the boy and shove him away, finishing this with some dignity, but he soon discovered the tight force holding his wrists against the couch. He tried to shift but a growl stopped his movements momentarily. "I'm not gonna let you hurt Harry because of this stupid jealousy!" Sam was shocked that he managed to put such a complex sentence together with his brain leaking out of his ears.
"Who says I don't want it?" a familiar voice spoke up, tone smug and sweet. When Sam looked up again, his eyes landed on clear emeralds drilling into his eyes.
"Wha…?" Sam was lost now. What the hell was going on? Wasn't this some feline reaction to a stranger touching their mate? Or maybe it was, but it was Harry's own doing, not his animal side's… Not Jade's… His thoughts and words were cut off by a hand grasping his chin tightly, thumb digging into his throat painfully but not enough to cut his air supply off.
"No one touches you like that" Harry growled out, grasping at Sam's member without any shame or fear. Sam searched the boy's expression and he only saw his own little, innocent lover… or a pissed-off version of him, like yesterday… "You're mine!" One hard tug took Sam's breath, lungs and brain away, forcing another pleasure-filled moan out of him. His eyes widened comically, unable to believe that Harry would be capable of doing this. Another tug ignited a fire inside him that was a common stranger and an old friend to him. "I said you're mine!" Harry hissed out, but Sam's mind fogged over, his senses obstructed by those flames.
With a loud growl, Sam broke the force around his wrists and launched himself at Harry, tumbling onto the floor with him. As they landed with a thud, Sam's mouth fastened over Harry's, one hand gripping at Harry's tresses, while the other gripped one of the boy's thighs to wrap the leg around his waist. Harry's arms were like vice around his neck, fingers digging into any surface on his back that could be grasped and reached. Sam instinctively thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against Harry's ass when the boy did the same at the exact same moment.
"Mine!" Sam growled out, when he tore himself away from Harry's lips, attacking the boy's neck. He heard something growl and snarl in his mind, oddly approving. As he left a long damp trail on Harry's neck with his tongue, the constant purr floating around them vibrated the soft flesh. When he passed the pulse point, he could feel the throb of the vein as if it was his own.
Suddenly, Sam was shoved to the side, which he would've felt insulting, except the warm body of his lover followed him into a straddle over him. Harry slid down Sam's body and leaned down to show who the man belonged to.
The moment the warmth of the boy's mouth engulfed him, Sam whined out loud, thrusting his hips up. He vaguely remembered Harry being innocent in a lot of ways, but as the boy expertly rode with Sam's motions, he recalled his lover telling him about giving oral pleasure during his enslavement in England. With that reassurance, Sam let his instincts dictate his moves, trusting Harry to adjust to them.
Minutes went by like this, Sam mumbling incoherently and moaning when Harry did something with his tongue that the man liked, hell, loved! Whenever Sam looked up to check on Harry's reactions, he always met a coy smile before it disappeared on the downward trip. Emeralds constantly searched for his gaze, locking with hazel-green orbs when they found each other.
"Oh, oh G…" Sam moaned out, the pressure building with such a force, he was unable to make his vocal cords work. Harry got the message, though. Sam's back arched instantly, body freezing, hands in fists with nails digging into his palms, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes shut tightly. In a moment it was over: his body slumped back onto the ground, his muscles relaxed, eyes drooping sleepily. He was panting from the aftershocks of his orgasm, limbs feeling like jelly, thoughts foggy and jumbled.
A warm body stretched out on top of him. When Sam looked up, he met Harry's satisfied, smug expression. The boy had his head resting on his arms that were lying crossed on Sam's chest. He seemed to be waiting for a reaction from Sam, although judging by the slight fear, the boy was worried Sam wouldn't like something.
"Wow…" Sam breathed, speechless by the quick turn of events. "That… that… wow… that… wow…"
Harry was sniggering slightly, completely amused by the state the man got into.
"I know I sucked you dry, but never thought it was this efficient" Harry joked. Sam wanted to swat at that smug face, but his hand just flopped on the ground, so he settled on a weak glare. "And yes" Harry whispered, directing Sam's full – or remaining – attention back onto him. "I'm yours."
Sam's pleased smirk was swallowed up by a kiss.
Meanwhile…
Dean dragged Kyle out of the house, slamming the back door with his foot, his hands too busy holding the enraged and completely wild boy in place. Kyle was still hissing and spitting and… yowling like an enraged cat. Although, maybe it wasn't a normal house cat, because the sounds were deeper than what Harry let out.
Finally, he had enough of the struggle and just lifted the boy up by the slim waist and carried him to the rows of wrecks, disappearing from sight. When he knew they were far enough from the house, Dean dropped Kyle down and trapped him against one of the cars with an arm at each side of the boy and a knee between the other's legs. As soon as his thigh brushed against the boy's, Kyle snapped his head towards him, tilting it with a curious look.
Dean's breath lost its way to his lungs, when yellow eyes and a slit pupil met his own green gaze. So, there was a reason for Kyle's behavior… but what was going on with the boy? Is he an Animagus like Harry? Kyle doesn't have any magic, though. Then a horrifying thought popped into his head:
'Is he even aware of his other side?'
A nuzzle on his neck broke him out of his musings, and when he flinched in surprise, Kyle seemed to shrink into himself, looking up at him with terrified, subdued eyes. Dean then understood that Kyle's… inner kitty saw him as the dominant, possessive one. And maybe it was scared that he may have overstepped some boundaries…
With a renewed determination he didn't even know he had, Dean leaned down and buried his face into Kyle's neck, nosing at the soft skin and rapidly beating pulse. Kyle instantly turned his head to the side, giving the older man space. Dean slowly wrapped one arm around Kyle's waist, gradually tightening his hold and eliciting a surprising reaction from the boy.
Deep, loud purring.
One of Kyle's hands slid up into his hair, holding him in place gently, while the other looked for a banister to hold onto on the back of Dean's shirt. Dean's free hand also wandered up the boy's back, combing through the boy's blonde locks, gripping them to pull Kyle's head back and to the side.
"Mine, baby…" Dean growled out softly into Kyle's ear. The boy answered with a louder purr that sounded suspiciously like 'Yours'. Feeling an animal-like instinct take him over, he first subdued that strong urge before taking actions to drill that fact into Kyle's head.
At last, Dean pulled Kyle away from the wreck and lowered him down onto the ground, laying his own body on top of the smaller, trembling one. He captured the boy's lips gently and lovingly, causing the purr to spike up in volume, while his hand massaged one of Kyle's thighs and lifted it up to wrap it around his waist, unknowingly copying his brother's much wilder movements with perfect precision.
When he let go of Kyle's lips, the boy slumped back onto the ground, body shifting, trying to get Dean to do something. Dean swallowed against his lust caused by the sight of his writhing lover, but he needed to pull himself together… and play the next few minutes right.
His hand slipped up from Kyle's thigh and under the boy's T-shirt, caressing soft skin and thin waist. He considered fleetingly to train Kyle some to bring him into a better condition, but then decided against it. He liked his lover the way he was: small, shy, but still so strong inside.
When the hem of Kyle's T-shirt reached the boy's chin, Dean tore his lips away from his lover's and descended on the boy's body, caressing Kyle's chest tenderly with his mouth and tongue. Kyle whined from Dean's treatment, bucking his hips upwards when soft flesh dipped into his bellybutton. Dean's hands were now massaging the boy's thighs, one thumb catching the belt buckle.
Instantly, Kyle tensed up so hard, his whole body started shaking. Dean looked up in worry, searching the boy's features for any pain or fear. He found the latter sitting on his lover's face, practically poking Dean's eyes out with its presence. The older man realized that this must be the secret Kyle was keeping and even his feline side recognized it as the limit. Respecting the boy's wishes, Dean turned back from the path he was making and went back to the boy's mouth, pleasing his lover only by grinding their clothed groins together.
Kyle's hand slipped under Dean's shirt and when no complaints or protests came, it ventured up on the man's back before sliding onto the hard, muscled chest. When fingertips began circling his nipple, Dean groaned in pleasure, his tongue diving into Kyle's mouth, embracing the boy's.
They moved against each other, caressing every possible spot that could drive the other crazy, for a few minutes. Lust and passion built up in their heated bodies, dancing in joy and love. The two molded into each other, wishing to feel every little stir and hear every pleased sound emitting from the other. Kyle's purrs vibrated through and around both of them, intensifying every motion and touch some more. Their movements were like a perfectly choreographed dance, until they reached the climax and froze at the same moment, riding pleasure and ecstasy with their breaths held in.
When they calmed down, Dean lowered himself gently onto the smaller boy, burying his face into Kyle's neck and wrapping an arm tightly around the slim waist. Kyle nuzzled his hair, still purring, although its rhythm was slow and lazy. Thin arms wrapped around Dean's shoulders, holding onto the man firmly, as if he would lose him any minute now.
"'M sorry."
Dean looked up at the soft voice and met Kyle's sorrowful, azure eyes. He leaned up to kiss the trembling lips, assuring the boy without words that everything was fine. However, when he pulled away, his gaze hardened and he didn't miss the bob of the boy's Adam's apple.
"You're mine, you hear me?" Dean growled out, relishing in the shiver that ran through Kyle at his low voice. "No matter what."
"Yours" Kyle purred and was rewarded with Dean's lips capturing his in a firm, but tender kiss.
Bobby shook his head as he left the pair alone. He'd heard the commotion inside the house and when Dean had wrestled Kyle outside and towards the rows of wrecks, he'd followed them, worried about what could happen. His decision only enlightened him that not even he knows his own yard as perfectly as Dean, because by the time he'd found the pair, they were calming down in each other's arms on the ground.
He couldn't help but wonder, though. What did those idjits get themselves into this time?
When he stepped through the back door to check on the remaining idjits, he was frozen by the sight greeting him. That was one thing he did not wish to encounter. Ever.
Sam was lying on the floor with Harry on top of him, their moment seemingly over, as well. What disturbed him slightly, though, was the fact that Sam's pants and underwear was pulled down to his ankles, leaving him completely naked from the waist down, only Harry's legs covering him up. Not to mention the small spot of white liquid on his floor…
"What the heck are you four doing?" Bobby asked, feeling slightly strange by saying 'four' instead of 'two'. The pair snapped their eyes at him and Sam immediately blushed twenty, or maybe thirty, shades of red. The leg closer to Bobby twitched, starting to bend to cover himself, but his pants prevented his actions.
"I-I-I…" he started, but was cut off:
"Establishing some rules, so if you don't mind…"
Bobby frowned at Harry's cheeky answer and expression as the boy looked at him with a smirk and amusement-filled, glittering eyes. Sam froze like a bad computer, fearfully watching Bobby and waiting for a reaction.
"Don't get smart with me, boy" the older man replied without any heat. "I can still pound your ass into next month."
Harry just stuck his tongue out at him, although relief was rolling off of him in waves. Sam's could've wiped out two tsunamis.
"When I come back, I want my living room spotless" Bobby continued. Sam and Harry nodded, a blush finally appearing on the boy's cheeks. Bobby just turned around and walked out of the house, muttering 'Idjits' loud enough for the two to hear, judging by the snickers he heard while shutting the door.
These four will be a handful… and probably the death of him.
TBC...
So... *fans herself* Hope you likey...
*hides under blanket* I can't beLIEVE I actually wrote something like this... *blushes**blushes more*
Anyway, please Read and Review!
See you at the next chapter! *goes to cool off for the next few hours*