Part Two
Sam decided to cut his losses and start making more friends in his own classes. He started hanging out with Neville and his friends and found that he could have a social life without Dean. He hoped he and Dean could eventually be friends again but he just couldn't spend time with Dean for a while when all he'd be able to think about was the feel of Dean's strong fingers wrapped around his cock, of how soft Dean's lips were under his. And how much of an idiot he felt when he realized that Dean wasn't into the kiss.
He was sitting in English Lit class when he felt eyes on him and he looked up to see a gorgeous guy with very dark hair and a caramel complexion grinning at him. Sam smiled back and felt a little buzz of excitement when the other boy wet his lips as he continued to stare at Sam. Sam blushed a little and stared down at his book for a moment before looking up to find the boy's gaze still firmly locked on him. He tried to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart as the professor called him to answer a question.
The boy caught up to Sam as he was heading back to his room after class and introduced himself as Paolo. He had an unusual accent and as they walked back to the dorms, Sam learned he was originally from Portugal but had lived in the UK for seven years. As they reached Sam's room, Paulo caught his arm.
"Will I see you at dinner?" He traced small circles with his thumb over the underside of Sam's forearm and Sam felt his heart begin to pound again.
"Um, yeah," he stammered.
"I look forward to it," said Paolo, fingers tracing a line down Sam's arm as he pulled away.
He waved and Sam stared after him as he went until someone bumped his shoulder walking past and he walked mindlessly into his room, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. Maybe going to school here wasn't going to be as lonely as he'd thought.
Sam settled into a new rhythm without Dean and was really enjoying getting to know Paolo, who didn't attempt to hide his interest in Sam. They'd stolen a few kisses here and there but hadn't had any real time alone. Paolo had asked him to go out on Saturday night, though, and specifically mentioned that his roommate was going home for the weekend. Sam was nervous. He liked Paolo, but wasn't quite sure he was ready for what an evening alone might entail, though his hormones made sure he wasn't about to refuse any action he could get.
They were sitting in the dining hall at lunch one afternoon when he noticed Paolo getting much more physical than he normally did, touching Sam's arm constantly and eventually slipping an arm around Sam's shoulder as he spoke close into Sam's ear. Sam wasn't sure what brought it on until he felt Paolo's gaze move and then noticed Dean sitting nearby watching them. Paolo was putting on a display marking Sam as his own and Sam felt a little queasy at the posturing, though he just shrugged at Dean's questioning look when he met the older boy's eyes.
Sam carefully avoided Dean for several more days but Dean eventually found him Friday afternoon sitting under a tree on the far-side of the football pitch reading, and sat beside him. Dean started chatting about nothing in particular: their classes, the terrible joke Professor Clairmont told that afternoon, the even more terrible joke Elliot had told at the pub the previous night.
Sam smiled and laughed politely, but when it was clear Dean didn't intend to talk about the handjob incident the other night, Sam collected his belongings and stood up to leave with an, "I'll see you around."
"No, wait, Sammy." Dean grabbed his arm and tugged him back down to the grass. He drummed his fingers on his lap and stared off into the distance for a second before he started to speak. "I wanted to apologize for what happened. You surprised me, that's all. I've never… fuck, this is awkward." He glanced briefly at Sam and then away again. "The thing is...the thing is…" Dean looked pained. "I haven't… but I liked it?" It sounded like a question when he said it.
"You liked what, Dean?" Sam asked impatiently. "Look, I'm really not interested in playing your boarding school 'it's okay to do gay things as long as we don't admit that's what they are' game. I'm gay, Dean. I like guys. I like you, in particular. I'm happy to be just friends with you and date someone else, but I won't be some convenient hand getting you off." His hazel eyes sparked with anger as he regarded the older boy.
Dean blew out a long breath in the face of Sam's sharp words. "I liked it when…" Dean's eyes fell to Sam's lips and he bit his own nervously.
Sam stared at him for a moment, his anger receding as he saw exactly how hard it was for Dean to say it. He took pity and leaned in close. "You liked it when I kissed you, Dean?" Dean nodded slightly and made a little affirmative noise. "You liked it when I kissed you?" Sam repeated, and when Dean breathed out the tiniest, "yeah," Sam pressed his lips against Dean's, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure. Dean let out a desperate whimper then fisted his hands in Sam's hair and pulled him in close. Dean parted Sam's lips with his tongue and plunged into Sam's mouth.
The sound of voices in the distance forced them to pull apart; PDAs were specifically forbidden on school grounds. They made plans to get together in Dean's room later that evening and they walked back to the school with dorky grins on their faces.
"You know you're gonna have to quit smoking if you want me to keep kissing you, right?" Sam announced as they parted ways near the library.
Dean just flipped him off, but Sam took the gesture for a yes, and his grin lasted all afternoon.
Sam felt pretty bad when he cancelled his date with Paolo, especially when the other boy asked him point blank, "It's for Winchester, isn't it? I've seen the way he watches you."
"Yeah," Sam admitted reluctantly. "We sorta had something starting, but then he freaked out-"
"I know what straight boys are like, Sam. He'll only fuck you around, but it's your life. Give me a call when he eventually breaks your heart."
Sam was in the middle of stammering out another apology when Paolo shut the door in his face. Sam felt like such an asshole, but his misery didn't last long, especially knowing he was going to hang with Dean that night. He showered again before dinner and made sure to slip off to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he knocked on Dean's door.
Sam was barely through the door when Dean had him crowded up against the wood and was kissing him breathless. Sam simply dropped the bag of snacks he'd been carrying and let himself get lost in Dean's kiss. Once Dean committed to something, he really went for it, and before he knew what had hit him, Sam's lips were licked open and Dean's minty tongue was in his mouth, diving and exploring. Sam swept his hands up Dean's back and dug his fingers into his short hair, hanging on for the ride.
Dean finally pulled away and Sam felt his knees buckle before he got them back under his control. Was he seriously swooning over a boy? Thankfully, the solid wood door kept him upright as he swayed, especially when he got a look at Dean's mouth, all kiss-swollen and spit-shiny. Sam couldn't resist reaching up to brush his fingers over those beautiful lips, and Dean's eyes dropped to Sam's hand before returning to search Sam's eyes.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
Dean grinned, his usual cockiness giving way to some shyness. "Yeah," he answered. "I'm really good."
Sam followed Dean to the sofa and they sat close together, a current of nervous energy pulsing between them.
"Look Dean-" Sam started, wanting to clear the air, to make Dean understand that they didn't have to go from zero to sixty with the physical relationship. He didn't get more than the first two words out before Dean countered with, "Can I blow you?"
Sam closed his eyes for a moment at the glorious image of Dean's puffy red lips wrapped around his cock, but he forced himself to ignore the vote his dick was casting in his pants and responded with his brain.
"Fuck, Dean, you can't imagine how much I want that, but maybe we should go a little slower. Make out for a while and work up to that?" If cocks could rail at the heavens, Sam's would have been.
"Okay, cool," Dean said, both disappointment and relief evident on his face. "Maybe you should get over here and kiss me some more."
Sam wasn't going to argue with that and quickly straddled Dean's lap, interlocking his fingers with Dean's and pinning Dean's arms above his head as he dove in for hot kisses. Dean was groaning beneath him and Sam was enjoying finding out just what drove the other boy crazy. He could feel Dean's dick pressing into his ass through their jeans and he ground down against it. Dean whimpered, so Sam ground down harder, shifting his hips so their cocks could rub together.
"Touch me. Please," Dean whispered, desperation leading to a whining tone in his voice. Sam liked the idea of hearing him beg even more, but his own cock was desperate for contact, so he freed both their erections from their jeans and wrapped his large hand around the two of them. He'd been steadily leaking precome and used that to slick his stroke until it wasn't quite enough and he spat in his palm to get some more lubrication.
Dean's head had fallen back against the back of the couch and Sam took advantage of the opportunity to lick and nibble at his exposed throat while he jacked them together. He was panting against Dean's neck as he felt his orgasm building deep in his core. "Gonna..." Sam groaned and Dean responded by rucking his t-shirt up under his arms.
"C'mon, Sammy. I wanna see it. Come for me. Paint me up."
"Fuuuck," Sam moaned as he came, Dean's words pushing him right over the edge. He felt the hot come splashing over his fist and pressed his forehead to Dean's, looking down to see it spray Dean's abdomen and chest. He kept stroking their cocks together, the extra slick from his come driving sharp gasps from Dean's mouth until he too was shooting his release hot and fast between them.
Dean looked up into Sam's eyes, still panting from his orgasm, his huge pupils eclipsing his irises, his pink lips frozen in a surprised 'O' of pleasure. Sam grinned down at him and Dean surged forward to capture Sam's lips with his own, kissing him deep and dirty until they couldn't taste the difference between each other's mouths.
Eventually, and reluctantly, Sam peeled himself away from Dean's chest and sat down next to him on the couch. They regarded the mess they'd made between them. "I think this is gonna take more than a sock," Sam observed, and Dean laughed, his eyes crinkling in delight.
"Use this." Dean peeled off his soiled shirt and Sam bit his lip at the sight of Dean's broad, freckled shoulders and chest exposed to his gaze for the first time. Sam could only assume that he was getting most of his own chest clean as he wiped blindly. He couldn't take his eyes off Dean. Dean flashed him a cocky grin as he took the sticky garment from Sam and wiped himself down before tucking himself back into his boxers and buttoning up as he walked to the dresser. He chucked a clean t-shirt at Sam, who'd peeled himself out of his own messy shirt, and replaced it with one that smelled perfectly like Dean. He was pretty sure he was never giving the soft, grey cotton back.
They were studying in Dean's room a few weeks later and Dean was fed up with Physics. And Latin. And History. Sam kept trying to get Dean back on track but the older boy kept getting up and pacing the room, frustrated with his lack of progress, and bitching at Sam for making him quit smoking. When Sam insisted they keep working at it, knowing Dean just had to put in a bit more time before the material all started to gel in his brain, Dean started playing dirty. He began stroking Sam's thigh and when Sam pushed his roving hand away, Dean leaned back against the arm of the couch and began to stroke his own thigh, working higher and higher with each pass.
Sam kept his eyes fixed on the book before him, continuing to call out questions for Dean to answer, despite seeing Dean out the corner of his eye pull his t-shirt up to reveal his flat belly. When Dean's hand started dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans, Sam threw his pen at his boyfriend.
Eyes all hurt innocence, Dean looked up and Sam just glared at him. Dean couldn't maintain his expression, face cracking into a smile at Sam's stern expression, and soon Sam was smiling too, unable to maintain a straight face at Dean's charm offensive.
"You're incorrigible," Sam stated, shaking his head. Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully, then acquiesced with a nod.
"It's just that we got our results back from our STI screenings and it seems a shame not to do anything with our clean bills of health."
"Incorrigible and a romantic." Sam rolled his eyes. "But I've got an idea. Maybe you just need a little more motivation to learn this stuff. So, for every answer you get right on this exercise sheet, one of us takes off an item of clothing." Dean was suddenly paying attention, sitting up straight and regarding Sam intently. "And if you get at least 70% of the answers right on the trial quiz at the end of the chapter..." Sam paused and licked his bottom lip for effect. "...I'll suck you off as a reward."
Dean got 85% on the trial quiz and shot a huge load down Sam's throat. He'd collapsed back into the cushions when Sam crawled up beside him, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs tented obscenely with his erection. Dean glanced down at Sam.
"I'm afraid all that studying was for nothin'."
"Why is that?" Sam inquired.
"'Cuz I just shot my brains out through my dick." Dean grinned lazily.
"You are a dick," Sam countered, and then pulled Dean's face down to his and kissed him deeply, sharing Dean's flavour with him. Dean surprised him by growling and pressing him back into the couch, covering Sam's body with his and kissing him with a ferocious intensity. Sam's mouth had been well and truly plundered by the time Dean pulled away. Sam felt a little lightheaded when Dean pulled away and sat back on his heels, looking pointedly at the tent in Sam's underwear.
"It seems like we need to do something about that," Dean observed. Sam groaned helplessly when Dean leant forward and pressed wet kisses to the light trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers.
"You don't have to," Sam gasped as Dean's wet lips found the crown of his dick through the cotton of his underwear.
"Mmmm," Dean hummed, "but I want to." He traced the outline of Sam's cock with kisses that became progressively open-mouthed before his tongue darted out and Dean started lapping at the wet spot Sam's leaking precome had formed in the fabric.
"Fucking tease," Sam moaned and Dean grinned wolfishly, giving the tip another lick.
"Maybe I'm shy," Dean countered and Sam regarded him disbelievingly. "Okay, maybe not," he admitted, slowly drawing Sam's underwear down over his hips, and grabbing the base of Sam's dick as it bounced free against his stomach, "but I'm not sure how much of this monster I'm gonna be able to fit."
"You'd be more convincing if I hadn't seen you fit an entire hamburger in your mouth in the canteen last week."
"Touché, Sammy. Now are we gonna talk or am I gonna suck your cock?" Dean gave the underside a wet lick. Sam closed his eyes as Dean's mouth engulfed the head of his cock. He'd been leaking steadily while he blew Dean and the feel of Dean's tongue lapping at the slit had him ready to shoot down the other boy's throat.
It was a relief that Dean's inexperience meant that it wasn't the greatest head of his life or it would have been over in seconds. Dean was enthusiastic, though, and eager to get it right. He was clearly listening to Sam's gasps and moans, repeating the moves that got the biggest reactions until Sam was a quivering mess.
When Dean wrapped his hand around the base of Sam's shaft and started stroking in a counterpoint to his delicious suction, Sam knew he wasn't going to last much longer. "Dean," he moaned, "gonna…"
Dean pulled off and licked his sinfully plump lips and that was it. Sam came, pumping thick white streaks over Dean's lips and cheeks, leaving him looking sullied and debauched and even more perfect than usual. Sam was pretty sure he was in love.