Author's Note: So, this is chapter two to my story, Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most and I must say I'm actually enjoying this. R&R for ore cause I have plenty of the chapters typed up already.
Summary: Sam and Dean confront their feelings head-on and Dean learns things about Sam that changes how he sees things for a long time.
Rating: um, T? For mentions on blow-jobs, and language. And underage drinking.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything familiar and I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm done. Title is from Anarbor's song "Between You and I "
Between You and I
Dean didn't go home. Actually he went to the café where he and Sam often met up to study to drink over priced coffee. This time his visit wasn't about studying and sipping fancy coffee, this time Dean was there to contemplate his feelings for the other boy. He was deep in the midst of thought and facing his sexuality when his phone sprang to life in his pocket, obnoxious jingle doing exactly what it was intended to as Dean flipped open the device.
"'lo?" He muttered into the phone.
"Dean? It's Maryanne, Sam's mom." The voice was slightly different on the phone but Dean recognized it.
"Oh, hey Ms. Smith," Dean tried to sound relaxed.
"Call me Mary, please. I was just wondering when you boys were coming home or if Sam was just going to stay the night with you?"
Dean's heart almost stopped on the spot. It had been a good forty-five minutes, maybe even an hour since Dean had last seen Sam. For some reason Sam had never gone home. "Yeah," Dean found himself lying, "he's gonna stay at my place tonight if that's ok."
"Sure sweetie, give him my love, tell him to text me when he'll be coming home. You two have fun."
Dean mentally smacked himself for lying to someone as sweet as Sam's mom. "Sure thing Ms.—I mean Mary."
With that the call ended and Dean was out the door so fast that he hardly realized he was in his car. He flipped open his phone and dialed Sam's number. "Pick up, pick up, pick up, shit Sammy pick up," he whispered franticly and tried not to panic. When he didn't get an answer he swore and threw his phone at the dashboard. He was speeding down the highway trying to think of somewhere Sam could walk to within an hour. Just like that it clicked, the reservoir, where all the drama kids hung out during the spring. Sam said he always went there to clear his head and it was a mere twenty minute walk from Sam's place.
Dean took the next exit.
The second Dean's eyes landed on Sam the panic that raced through his body boiled into rage. He parked his car and ran over to him, trying not to lose his footing as he raced down the sharp incline and all but tackled Sam to the ground. He gripped his shoulders and turned the taller teen to face him before he began ranting.
"Shit Sam! What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know what time it is? For fuck's sake you scared the shit out of…Sam, are you drunk?" Dean stopped mid-rant when the scent of alcohol hit his nose.
"S'what if I'm…?" Sam replied in a slur and shoved Dean slightly.
Dean frowned, his hands automatically going to caress Sam's pink cheeks; they were freezing against his fingers. "Shit Sam," he breathed and grabbed his wrist, "c'mon. You're freezing man."
Sam pulled away and glared half-heartedly at Dean. "Leave me alone. I'm drinking away my woes."
Dean rolled his eyes, only Sam would say woes instead of sorrows or problems. "You can do that at my place, now come on."
Sam jerked away again, this time pulling away so hard he fell back, his ass hitting the snowy ground as he let out an 'oomph'. Dean frowned and knelt down. "Sam," he said gently, "what's wrong?"
Dean was relieved when Sam opened up to him. "What's wrong? What's wrong is that I have the hots for yet another football player who's just gonna use me and leave me."
Dean frowned and brushed Sam's bangs from his face. "What do you mean Sam? You've been with someone on the team before?"
And just like that Sam shut down, his eyes looking down to the snow and his gloveless fingers, pink from the cold. "Can we go?"
Dean sighed and nodded. He'd get more out of Sam when they got back to his house and Sam warmed up. He wrapped his arms around Sam's slim frame and helped him to his feet.
When Dean pulled into the driveway of his small house he was thankful that his dad was working a double shift and wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon. Dean would be gone before his dad could ask him anything. Dean led Sam into his house and straight to his room. "Wait here," he said and left, only to return a few moments later with a pair of grey sweatpants and a thermal long sleeve shirt that he'd borrowed from his dad. His dad was taller and a little bit bigger so Dean knew the clothes would fit. Sam thanked him with a grunt and went to the bathroom where he remained for a few moments before he called out Dean's name pathetically.
Dean was there in a second to see Sam's puppy dog eyes turned on him. "What's wrong," Dean asked for the second time that night.
Sam held up his hands, fingers still pink and no doubt numb. "I can't get my clothes off."
Dean let out a gentle sigh and gently took Sam's hands in his. "Idiot," he breathed before pulling away slightly to unzip his jacket and help him out of it. Next came his shirt and Dean frowned as his fingertips grazed the icy skin underneath. "Shit Sam, your freezing."
"I noticed," came Sam's drunken reply. He was gripping Dean's biceps tightly to keep himself from falling.
Shaking his head slightly Dean helped Sam strip down to his boxers and helped him into his dad's clothes. He gently took Sam's hand and led him back to his room and sat him down on the bed, wrapping his heavy comforter around the lean boy.
"Now," he said as he sat beside him, "what were you talking about earlier?"
Sam was silent for a second before letting out a trembling breath. "When I was a sophomore…there was this senior on the football team…he had a girlfriend…so did the others cause let me tell you, there was more than one,…anyway, the point is they all want the same thing. It's different when a guy gives you head, it's like stroking their ego. They have complete control over guys like me who give themselves away because they fall for every guy who says he loves them. They never love you. They fuck you because it makes them feel the ultimate sense of domination. Any guy can screw some girl, no big deal, but when you get another guy to…especially a guy like me…" Sam trailed off into silence and Dean couldn't help but stare in shock.
"Who was it?" Dean chocked out. He was on JV as a sophomore but he knew most of the varsity players then and aspired to be just like them. Suddenly he felt just as sick and twisted as every guy who had ever wronged Sam.
"There was more than one, Dean. Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore does it?"
Dean knew it mattered, he could hear the hurt and betrayal in Sam's somber voice. Dean couldn't explain the feeling that raced through his veins. Rage was one thing. He was so pissed off at everyone who would dare screw around with someone as sweet as Sam.
And then there was the shame. Shame because he had done the same thing to dozens of girls before, he used them to stroke his ego and left them like they were a cell phone or something, trading them up for the newest model every time his became uncool.
The hurt in Sam's eyes was something he had seen in the eyes of those girls too many times before.
"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, though he wasn't sure who he was apologizing to, Sam or every girl who's heart he had ever broken.
Sam looked over to his friend, the hurt in his eyes changing to something else, something that resembled hope. "You're not like them, are you?"
Dean didn't respond with words, instead he pulled Sam into his arms, embracing him tightly and giving him a silent promise. A promise that he would never hurt Sam the way anyone else did. A promise that he would shower him with nothing but love.
A promise that Dean would keep no matter what.
He sealed that promise with an ever-so-gentle kiss before laying back, holding Sam close to him as they drifted off to sleep.