Know When To Fold Em Chapter 10
Dean found the club where he was to meet with Patrick and Sam two days before the arranged time. He found a place to park the Impala that was close and would still be kept out of sight, not wanting to risk it being seen by Patrick. There were several hotels nearby that Patrick might have picked, but there was no way to know which his brother was being kept in. Dean had no guarantees Patrick chose a meeting place close to his hotel, it could have been on the other side of town for all Dean knew.
Sam hadn't called since Castiel set up the meeting which made Dean more than a little nervous. Patrick had agreed with very little prompting to sell not only Sam's blood and seminal fluids, but Sam himself. Hopefully the offer Dean made hadn't been too over the top making Patrick bolt.
If Patrick was wise to his ruse, Dean was pretty sure the witch would have called to gloat.
No, Dean was going with the plan and holding fast to the idea he and his brother would be in the same building two evenings from now. It was all Dean had and he wasn't letting go.
After what seemed like another month, finally it was meeting time. Dean sat in a coffee shop across the street, watching the club. He couldn't help shredding a few napkins while he waited anxious to see his brother. Anxiety was replaced with relief when it wasn't quite dusk, a half hour early, that Patrick and Sam arrived on foot. Once they were safely inside, Dean headed down the street and collected the Impala, moving her to the farthest end of the club parking lot, close to the delivery doors and away from where the patrons parked.
Slipping through the club's door, Dean paid the cover charge and moved through the place, keeping out of the way. Sam was taken to a private sitting area in the back. It was all Dean could do to keep from rushing forward and grabbing his brother. Patrick's hands were all over Sam, palm pressed to Sam's back or fingers wound around his elbow like he needed to be led around.
Dean hated it. Anger burned deep within him, forcing him to clamp down on the emotions threatening to burst free and rip his chest open. He needed to be sharp and steady or Patrick would win and be gone with Sam.
It was easy to see by the slight way Sam stiffened each time Patrick touched him that the gestures were unwanted and Sam felt forced into compliance. Dean wondered if Patrick even noticed, he was obviously so taken with Sam he wasn't even seeing what was going on right in front of his face.
Watching them together only hardened Dean's resolve to not only get his brother away from the crazy witch, but mend their broken relationship and give Sam what he needed. His kid brother's face was an odd mixture of emotions: fear, boredom, disgust maybe, Dean wasn't sure. What he was sure of was he could feel Sam's discomfort—fear—from across the club.
Finally they were settled in the small room. Dean had a good view through the beads that separated it off from the main part of the club. It was time to go to work.
-0-
"Less than a week to go, Sam." Patrick held the door to the club open and motioned Sam inside. "This will probably be our last arrangement."
Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. All he could really think of was he'd be back with Dean in a few days. The thrill of hearing Dean's voice on the phone when Patrick permitted them to talk had effected Sam in so many and unexpected ways. He waited, sometimes holding his breath in anticipation of the next thing Dean was going to say, or tell Sam to do.
He was going to tell Dean everything. Sam only hoped his resolve didn't melt when he saw his brother. The promise he'd made to himself not so long ago to come clean with Dean, tell him what Sam wanted and how, was easy to do when Dean wasn't standing in front of him. Sam kept telling himself he could make the words come out of his mouth. Dean would trust him again, Sam only had to give himself over to Dean to let that happen.
They made their way to the bar and Patrick did his usual, constantly touching Sam, motioning him to a chair, little things that told others Sam was with Patrick, belonged to him. Despite the fact Sam refused Patrick as a partner, he still insisted on this ruse in public. It was yet another thing Sam would be happy to be rid of when he was back with Dean. At least if Dean were to act that way it'd be the truth.
Sam prayed Dean would indeed start acting that way.
Patrick ordered a drink, Sam stuck with Coke. He settled on a chair in the smaller, more private sitting area Patrick led them to. It wasn't exactly a backroom, but a lot of these places Patrick brought him to didn't have one; just a darker corner with an archway dividing it from the main part of the club. This one had muted colored beads hanging in the door.
Very swanky. Very tasteful. Very rich.
"What do you know about this client?" Sam asked, more to kill time than because he wanted to know about Patrick's next mark that he'd sucker out of money and years. Sam was hoping Patrick would give him some information that might prove useful in keeping contact with the man to a minimum.
"Not only is he interested in our special…commodities. He's expressed an interest in a bit of a game." Patrick adjusted his tie and leveled a stare at Sam until Sam dropped his gaze to the floor. "I don't need to remind you how much money this is and that I expect your behavior to be above exemplary."
"Yes, sir. Of course." Sam sighed, drank his soda and glanced around the club trying to figure out who the stupid patsy was. He wondered how many drops of blood he'd have to squeeze out tonight.
Worse he wondered what else he'd have to squeeze out and if he was looking at another encounter that included nearly being raped.
Last time. He had to keep reminding himself this was the last time. In a few more days he'd be safely tucked in the Impala with Dean. Hopefully he'd also be safely tucked into Dean's arms.
He realized that ever since he'd drank the potion Patrick had shoved at him Sam hadn't cared much about what was happening to him. That and it did make his sore throat feel better. He was still focused on ending this farce and being back where he belonged, with Dean, but everything else didn't seem to matter so much. Sam's brain was slowly starting to form the opinion he'd been drugged, probably nothing with lasting affects, but something that made him more manageable. Sam was bigger and stronger than Patrick and the witch's control was starting to slip, thanks to Dean. It made sense Patrick was now looking for other ways to ensure his control.
Sam's interest shifted to a television over the bar. He barely paid any attention when a man, pushed through the beads. Patrick stood and nudged at Sam with his toe. Lumbering to his feet he kept his eyes downcast and his stance as submissive as possible. Sam's complete focus was at once drawn to the newcomer when he spoke, stepping close enough he and Patrick could see him clearly.
"I think you have something that belongs to me and I'm here to get him back."
Head snapping up, Sam gasped out, "Dean!" Moving so fast he tangled in the chair and nearly knocked it over, Sam was stepping away from the table and toward his brother.
"Sam." Patrick snapped, one hand out signaling him to stop.
He hesitated, gaze shifting from Patrick to Dean. A cold pit opened in Sam's stomach when Patrick frowned. There was less than a week left and here Dean was. Patrick wouldn't go back on the deal since Sam had broken none of his rules, or would he?
Dean didn't move. His gaze flicked for nothing but a few seconds to Sam before landing solidly on Patrick. His face was set in stone, eyes cold and hard. "Sam." The command was plain. Compliance was entirely Sam's choice. Trying to swallow around his dry throat Sam inched farther from Patrick and closer to Dean. One corner of Dean's mouth turned up in a cold, smug smile.
Sam closed the few feet between them, wrapping his arms around his brother, face bent to press into Dean's shoulder, shaking and trying desperately to hold himself together, and keep the tears from oozing free.
Dean's arms wound over his back, pulling Sam in tightly and holding him close. He turned his head and murmured softly in Sam's ear, "Sammy, we'll get through this." He brushed his lips over Sam's temple and gave a quick, reassuring rub up and down Sam's spine.
Sam didn't give much thought to his actions, where he was or what the ramifications might be. He only thought of showing Dean how much he'd missed him, how much he needed to belong to his brother. Letting his knees dip, Sam sank to the floor, resting his forehead against Dean's abs breathing out, "What are you doing here?"
"Sam." Patrick ground out. The sheer outrage in Patrick's voice made Sam cringe.
Dean's fingers nudged against Sam's shoulder. "Not here, up." He said softly enough probably only Sam heard. Once Sam was on his feet he looked between the two men, not sure what would happen next.
Dean slapped a wrapped deck of cards onto the table. "Time for that game."
"Patrick, I had no idea—" Sam clamped his lips shut when Patrick nodded and Dean's fingers curled around his forearm, dragging him closer. He pressed one hand flat against Sam's side and moved him even farther from Patrick and so he was positioned more behind Dean.
Patrick nodded. "I know that, Sam." He stalked slowly around the table. "Very clever, finding us as you did. You only had a few days to wait and I'd have delivered Sam to your doorstep, well car door, as it were."
"I didn't want to wait. And what guarantee did I have you'd really follow through? Besides, I sure as hell didn't want a replay of that little fiasco you set up with your buddy Bates. You're a little too fast to sell my brother out to the highest bidder." Dean leaned on his hands and shifted his weight forward, "Do you want to play or not?"
Jerking away from his brother, Sam grabbed Dean's jacket and shook it. "You can't do this, Dean. If he wins and you…" His voice trailed off and he took a few deep breaths to rid himself of the images of what could be.
"Sam, I'm not leaving you here with this…this…man! He had no right to do what he's done to you and no right to take you from me. He certainly has no right to auction you off the way he has been."
"Seems to me Sam came along freely."
"Well, looks can be deceiving. Blackmail, kidnap, free will, yeah I can see the confusion." Dean swung into the chair and shoved the deck of cards across the table. "Deal."
"Dean, stop. No! You can't do this. He won't let you win." When Dean ignored him, Sam moved around to the other side of the table, and put a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "No. Don't, please. I can't lose…not again. I'll do whatever you want. I'll stay with you for however long you want and do whatever you want me to, just please, don't do anything to my brother. Let him go."
Dean snapped out a harsh, "Sam." Lifting his gaze he gave Sam a hard stare for a few seconds then looked away. After all, what Sam was offering, it wasn't anything Dean wouldn't—hadn't—done himself after all.
Patrick picked up the deck, turned it over a few times and seemed to be considering it. "You would sacrifice yourself, both of you, for your brother's freedom and life?" He tapped on the table with two fingers. "Interesting. Yet, you both deny so much about one another and yourselves."
"What are you talking about?" Dean ground out.
Walking around the table, Patrick sidled up to Sam. At once Sam tried to sidestep away from Patrick and toward Dean. Patrick's arm slid around his waist, stopping him.
Rising slowly from his chair, Dean squared his shoulders and straightened. "Get your hands off of him. Now." Dean's voice was low and dangerous.
Patrick looked from Dean to Sam, nodded slightly and let his arm drop away as he glared down Dean. Shifting his weight and stance so Sam was partially behind him, Dean met Patrick's stare steadily.
Sam looked from one to the other, completely unsure what would happen next.
"Here's the thing, Dean." Patrick moved slowly, as if facing off a dangerous animal, which in a way he was. Laying one hand on Dean's shoulder, Patrick squeezed and let his hand drop back to his side. "I know about Sam. About you. About the brothers Winchester. It didn't take a genius. It's written all over both of you and comes out in every word you say to one another, every look, every gesture. Sam is a delicious young man. He has needs, complicated needs, and if you can't meet them…well…" Patrick let his gaze shift to Sam, lingered there for a long minute, and returned to Dean. "I'm quite willing to step in and provide those…needs. Take care of Sam the way he should be cared for."
"I bet you are," Dean said slowly. "Are we going to play or what?"
"Dean," Sam hissed. Dean glanced back at him, meeting Sam's gaze.
Sam dropped his gaze and chin ever so slightly. Reaching out he brushed his fingertips over Dean's sleeve. "Winchesters never welch on a bet, or deal." Sam said in a low, soft voice.
His brother looked down at Sam's hand for a second, then nodded and turned back to Patrick. "Here's the thing, we can play the game or you can be an honorable man and we can do this the easy way. You let Sam walk out of here with me. If you insist on making him finish out the next few days, fine. But, I'm going to be right next to my brother when you bleed him. I'm coming back to your hotel and to be sure you keep your hands to yourself, Sam stays with me. Until you give me back what is mine and that you stole from me, you get us both. He won't give you any trouble, and neither will I. When Sam's debts, and mine, are paid, we leave."
"What about what Sam wants? Shouldn't you ask him? Little brother, here needs a firm hand to give him the stability he craves. Don't you think he'd like to choose?"
Dean snorted then laughed outright. "You're an entertaining guy. I guess you don't know my little brother as well as you think you do. If Sam didn't want to come with me we'd all know about it." He paused and took a look around the upscale bar they were in. "Actually, everyone in here might know by now." Dean shrugged. "Sam, here, he's a talker. Yak, yak, yak. The more you upset him the more he yammers. Me? I hit things. Takes less time."
"I bet you do." Patrick sulked, taking a step back. Sam couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest when Patrick deflated a bit, his demeanor changing to something less confident. It was small and most people wouldn't notice, but Patrick had definitely just backed down from Dean.
"Your choice." Dean took a step forward, forcing the issue.
Patrick sighed and looked at Sam. "You were to be my…our final client, so I suppose there is no reason to keep Sam any longer. I did enjoy our time together, and so you know, my offer is always open. I'd be delighted to take you as a partner. All debts paid."
"Thanks, but no thanks." Sam shot Patrick a grateful look and nod before tugging on Dean's sleeve. He was relieved when Patrick returned that nod with a tight smile. Tightening his grip in Dean's sleeve he pulled, wanting to leave before Patrick changed his mind. "Let's go."
Dean's fingers wound around Sam's bicep, turned him around and started to usher him away from Patrick and toward the door.
"One last thing." Patrick cleared his throat.
They both stopped and turned. Sam's stomach sank. He knew it was too good to be true, too easy. Instead he was faced with Patrick's extended arm, his hand holding the keycard to their suite.
"You have belongings at the hotel. I'll stay here and entertain myself for an hour or two. That should give you plenty of time to retrieve them."
Blocking Sam from Patrick, Dean reached out and took the card, nodded and mumbled a, "thank you."
As they left the building, Dean's hand didn't leave Sam's arm, in fact his grip tightened as they crossed the parking lot to the Impala. With every step Sam's heart rate bumped up a notch. Between the fact he was free and his brother's sudden overt possessiveness Sam's step lightened and he was smiling by the time they reached the car.
Dean unlocked the door. "Where's the hotel?" He motioned Sam inside and waited until he was settled before softly shutting the door and jogging to the driver's side. He slipped into the car and rested his hands on the steering wheel looking over at Sam expectantly.
"It's…um…that way, about five blocks and on the right." Sam pointed out the direction. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, for coming for me."
Turning the ignition key and starting the car, Dean guided it onto the street. "Of course I did, Sam. What did you think I'd do? I came for you when you went with that bitch and let Lucifer loose, you think I wouldn't do so now where there was nothing but that measly little bitch of he-witch?"
A spike of guilt shot through Sam's gut. "I should have known you wouldn't wait. I was hoping you'd come for me."
"I figured you were giving me hints about where you were for a reason." Dean nodded out the window to a high rise building, "That the one?"
"Yeah. I didn't mean you wouldn't come, I just…"
"I know, Sammy." This time Dean's voice was soft and kind. Sam immediately relaxed. There were parking spaces across the street, Dean found one and guided the big car easily into position with the other cars. He cut the engine and turned to Sam. It was late in the evening and there was almost no one on the street. The inside of the car was dark or else Sam knew Dean would have never done what he did next.
Reaching out, Dean took Sam's jacket collar in both hands and dragged Sam closer while he inched to the middle of the bench seat. One hand sliding up, Dean cupped the back of Sam's head and pulled him in. The first press of his lips was light and gentle. Seconds later Dean's tongue skimmed over Sam's lips then slithered through to his mouth, swirling all around. His other hand slipped along Sam's side until he reached Sam's hips, curling around he pulled Sam against him.
Hot breath was blown into Sam's mouth, but it was the sheer possessiveness combined with tenderness of the kiss that took Sam's breath away. Dean's fingers inched up his scalp and tangled in his hair, holding Sam tightly to him. Not that Sam had any real intention of trying to pull away. He soaked it in, the kiss, the feelings from being in Dean's arms again…finally, the sheer intensity of emotion that rolled off his brother. Sam's entire body felt molten and pliable, taking only seconds for him to melt into Dean. The best he could manage was gripping Dean's shoulders so hard his fingers cramped.
It struck Sam then, between his adrenaline rush from seeing Dean at first to the lust-fueled increase he was feeling now the lingering affects of the potion evaporated. His senses sharpened and his thinking was clearer than even an hour ago. Whatever it was Patrick had fed him to ease his sore throat and enable Sam's heightened compliance was out of his system. If it was like other potions Sam was familiar with he'd have to drink another batch for it to affect him again.
Dean pulled back for a few beats, tongue lapping softly over Sam's lower lip before he closed the distance again, this time pulling Sam's lip between his teeth and biting down with enough pressure to feel, but not hurt. Heat oozed through Sam slow and languid, starting somewhere under his heart and spreading out until he was consumed.
When Dean broke the kiss a second time and moved far enough away he could skim the fingers of one hand through Sam's hair Sam nearly sobbed, feeling at once the loss of his brother's warm, strong body. "I get it, Sam. I do, I get it now. I wasn't blowing smoke when I told that witch he'd taken what was mine. Things are going to be different from here on out. We're going up and get your stuff and leaving. I got a motel room in the next town over. When we get there, we'll figure things out. I promise."
Sam blinked, unable to do much other than stare wide-eyed at Dean and nod.
Dean took the lead through the hotel to the elevator, only asking Sam what floor. When they left the elevator, Sam nodded to the right and again followed Dean as they walked down the hall. Stopping at the door Dean swiped the card and pushed the door open, walking in and stopping in the center of the room, hands stuffed in his pockets he whistled long and low.
"Well, at least he put you up nicely. Go get your stuff."
Nodding, Sam headed to his room off the main suite. He was aware of Dean ambling around the main room for a few minutes before he stood in the doorway, watching Sam.
Quietly Sam folded and packed his clothes into his duffel. It felt so good to be cared for again. His chest felt tight and his thoughts were too jumpy. He didn't want this feeling to go away—ever.
"After Ruby I thought you'd never want to touch me again."
"When I found out about Ruby there were times I could barely look at you let alone think about touching you." Dean's voice was soft, there was no malice behind the words but they were the truth and Sam knew it.
That didn't make them hurt any less. He tried not to outwardly wince, but it happened anyway. The envelope of money dropped out. "He…uh…Patrick gave me a cut." He held it out to Dean.
"I don't want money from your blood."
"There's a lot here, Dean. I thought…" Sam faltered and drew in a shaky breath before wiping the moisture catching at his eyelashes away. "You wouldn't have to hustle for a while. I wanted to help. I—"
Dean pulled his hands from his pockets and strode across the bedroom. He took the envelope and tossed it into Sam's duffel. "No harm in that." Reaching out he tangled his fingers in Sam's hair, stepped close and licked along Sam's jaw. "What I've wanted to do ever since I saw that demon bitch in your room…"
Sam sighed and dropped his head to the side, completely exposing his throat. Dean took the invitation, nipping and licking along the tender flesh of Sam's throat.
"…is get her stink and taint off you. You're mine, always have been and never were hers." Dean growled the final words out, biting down harder at Sam's jaw before pulling his head around and pressing their mouths together.
Sam groaned against Dean, turned into him and stepped in so their bodies were melded together. Dean swiped his tongue over Sam's then leaned back, nipping and then licking along Sam's lips. "Not here. Not now." Smoldering gaze raking over Sam, Dean let him go and brushed one hand through Sam's hair. "Pack up. We're leaving."
With shaking hands, Sam finished packing. It didn't take long it wasn't like he had much here he wanted other than what he'd brought with him and the money. Patrick had been correct, Sam had earned that money. He'd never in his life been afraid of Dean, but there were times Dean's actions scared him. This was one of those times. One minute Dean was all over him, the next he was distant.
Dean was waiting for him by the front door. Sam shouldered his duffel and walked to his brother, standing quietly beside him.
"Got everything you want?" Sam nodded. Dean's lips curled to a sardonic smile. He tossed the keycard on the floor in the middle of the room and opened the door for Sam. "I don't trust him or his sudden change of heart concerning you. I think the best we can do is get away and fast before he thinks differently."
It was terribly comforting, more so than Sam expected, to be resettled in the Impala. As at the club, Dean unlocked the car door, waited for Sam to get inside and locked and closed the door after him.
It wasn't until they were on the highway with the city lights shrinking in the rear window before Sam screwed up the courage to ask, "Are you mad at me?"
"No, Sam, I'm not. I'm angry with myself for letting things get so far out of hand. I've known, we've both known, for a long time what we both want and need and I'm angry Patrick had to be the one to point it out. I've had nearly a month to think things through. I bought some things we'll be using from time to time and," Dean paused to glance at Sam. "I decided on these." Dean pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket and held it out for Sam.
Sam took it and unfolded it, eyebrows shooting up and his breath sucking in. The drawings on the paper were certainly not what he expected.
"I should have stood up to Ruby right from the start and told her flat out you were not hers, but mine. Wearing a collar is impractical and could be dangerous on a hunt. Though, if you'd like something," Dean's gaze shifted to Sam. He reached out and rested his hand on the side of Sam's neck, thumb rubbing under his ear a few times. "We can look tomorrow when we go to get those tattooed on you. I've decided you'll wear those marks, my marks. One on your chest under your left breast, over your heart. One on your back over your heart and one here."
Dean's hand drifted down, slipped under Sam's waistband and brushed the skin along Sam's pubic hair line. Sam shifted a bit as his cock started to thicken.
"Rune symbols. Love, partnership and protection. I like them." Sam relaxed back against the seat. "What did you buy?"
"You'll see." Dean smiled, a real smile that reached his eyes and Sam loved. He pulled his hand away and put it back on the wheel.
Sam could see by the way Dean drew in a breath and blew it out softly, how he shifted in his seat and looked as if he was concentrating on the road ahead that there was more Dean had to say. He could only wait for Dean to open up, it'd been Sam's only course with his brother since they were children.
He chewed on his lower lip for a few minutes then bit down harder when Dean spoke again.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Oh and a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed- we love hearing your comments! The boys are back together so just a little bit left to go. Should be up soon. Thanks to our beta- MidgeVS5.