Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that is original material is mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant ideas first.
Genre: Action/Drama/Suspense/Romance
Rating: MA (for a reason)
Warning: Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry (except for the back-story that occurred before Season 1) and that JK Rowling never published Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone lol. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters, as well as story titles, belong to their respective authors.
Summary: The war against Voldemort ends and Harry is victorious, but at what cost? Harry passes through the veil after Sirius and ends up in a world without any Wizarding society. Harry starts his new life and attends university with Sam Winchester. Harry becomes an intricate part of the lives of the Winchester brothers before his secret is revealed.
Author's Note: Thanks for all the feedback and suggestions for adult scenes. I really struggled with them this chapter, but hopefully they're acceptable. While we're on that note… There are several scenes of a SEXUAL NATURE that involves SLASH in this chapter. There will be no in-text warnings this time. Be sure to check out the Author's Note at the end of the chapter as well.
HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH!!!
You Leave the World Behind
Moriarty's Minion
Chapter 4:
"Perchance To Dean"
"The words that echo in the night,
They're fading away,
They're gone without a trace.
Now it's up to you and me,
Let's open up the door,
And meet each other – face to face."
- Foreigner, Face to Face
PREVIOUSLY…
As Harry followed Amanda down the hall, he tried to listen to the details of whatever problem she needed fixed right that moment. Harry couldn't help it if his attention was focused on the man in his bed upstairs and the intimate moment he'd left unfinished.
There's always the morning, Harry consoled himself.
6:00 AM, THE NEXT MORNING
It took Harry almost the rest of the night to deal with Amanda's problem. More accurately, it took him about a minute to trap and kill the spider that had scared her. The rest of his time had been consumed by the numerous other issues the residents of his dormitory forced him to deal with in Sam's absence.
By the time he got back to his room, he was so exhausted that even the prospect of Dean's visit couldn't elicit much reaction from him.
Dean had apparently found Harry's bed very comfortable. When Harry had left, Dean had been curled up on one side of the bed. Now, Dean had spread himself to cover the entire bed. Granted, college dorm beds were typically quite small but Harry had managed to use his magic to enlarge it slightly. Harry had also made it more comfortable.
"Shove over, Dean," Harry ordered, prodding Dean in the shoulder, letting his hand linger on the older man's shoulder. Harry shuddered at the warmth radiating through the thin t-shirt.
Dean shot straight up in bed, grabbing Harry's wrist and twisting it away from him. Harry's fighting instincts took over, and forced Dean to relinquish his wrist in the way he was trained to… with pain.
"Ow!" Dean cried out, obviously still a little drunk. "Harry?"
"Who else?"
It took Dean a few moments to remember the events of the night before. He recalled his fight with John. He remembered checking out Two of a Pair and being severely disappointed that Harry hadn't been there. He also vividly recollected the vast amount of alcohol he had consumed there.
"You're really not a morning person, are you?" Harry asked wryly.
Dean smiled despite his still half-drunken state. He had missed Harry's sense of humor.
"Don't you know not to wake a man when he's getting a good nights rest?" Dean asked him. "It's a very dangerous endeavor."
Harry held up the wrist that Dean had attacked. "Yeah, I get that."
Dean had the decency to look somewhat abashed for his actions. "What time is it?"
"Almost 7:00."
"In the morning?" Dean asked, alarmed. "Why are you waking me up so early?"
"Because," Harry explained, pulling back some of the covers, "you were taking up the whole bed."
Dean smirked. "Sure there's enough room for us both? We might have to squeeze."
"That's the idea."
Harry lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the same pile under the bed that contained Dean's discarded clothing. Dean shifted over, letting his back curl slightly against the wall to take in the show. Harry smirked and took his time unbuckling his belt. Harry turned around to lock the door. He kept his back to Dean as he slid his jeans slowly down his thighs and to his ankles.
He let Dean have a few seconds to look over his back before walking back to the bed. Dean faked a yawn as Harry jumped up into the slightly raised bed. Dean waited as Harry settled himself. He snorted in amusement when Harry chose to lay flat on his back, taking up more than half the bed. A stray bit of skin connected with Dean's bare calf beneath the covers.
"Did you undress me?" Dean asked, suddenly realizing he had been sleeping in just his undershirt and boxers.
"Are you complaining?"
Dean shook his head before shifting his body next to Harry's. They lay in silence for a moment just enjoying the comfortable peace.
"You're not going to ask me why I'm here?" Dean questioned Harry, his eyebrow arched.
Harry appraised him. "You said you came to find me. Was there something else I needed to know?"
"And you're okay with that?" Dean wondered aloud. "No interrogation on where I've been, why I haven't called… nothing?"
Harry shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Dean. We're not dating. You're just the bloke who gave me one of the best shags of my life."
"One of the best?" Dean questioned, his voice rising high. "Are you sure you're not just overestimating the others? I'm a damn good... shag, I guess."
Harry merely chuckled at Dean's indignation.
Determined to prove his claim, Dean let his hand trail a line down Harry's chest to the waistline of his boxers, before Harry stopped him.
"What?"
"Later," Harry said, giving Dean's intrusive hand a short kiss. "Now we sleep."
Dean was torn between the two things he wanted most at the moment: more sleep and more Harry. Deciding to take the best of both worlds, he wormed his arm under Harry's shoulder. Before Harry could protest, the younger man was lifted from his position on the bed, and on top of Dean.
"What do you think you're doing?" Harry demanded.
"Manhandling you."
"And this is appropriate?" Harry asked, not making a move to fight it.
"You may have added some muscle, Harry," Dean teased, "But I'm still the bigger one here."
Harry grumbled something unintelligible before settling his weight onto Dean. Dean grunted as Harry let his elbow settle in the pit of his stomach.
"You pack quite a punch, you know," Dean informed him.
"Speaking of which," Harry responded, "you should really learn not to attack people first thing in the morning."
"Habit," Dean said apologetically. "Although, I noticed you knew how to handle yourself."
"And don't forget it," Harry said dryly. Harry felt the deep rumblings of laughter through Dean's chest. Suddenly, he didn't think being on top of Dean was such a horrible thing after all.
The boys settled into their positions and Harry fell asleep to the rhythmic thumping in Dean's chest.
Harry's lips started to move before he was even fully conscious. In his defense, a second pair of lips had initiated the motion before he was awake. His lips were just responding as they were meant to. Even when Harry realized that he was sleepily kissing Dean his lips were too persistent to stop… so Harry went along with it.
Through his lips, he felt it when Dean smiled.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to sleep with that poking into my stomach?" Dean asked.
Harry's eyebrows raised in question. What was poking Dean? He was sure he'd moved his elbow. Dean rolled his eyes at Harry's cluelessness. To clarify the situation Dean rolled his stomach up and then down, causing Harry to gasp in pleasure.
"Oh," Harry said breathily, still shuttering from the sensation running through him, "that."
"Yes, that," Dean mocked.
"Sorry," Harry apologized before lifting a leg and starting to move off of Dean.
Dean grabbed his thigh and held him down on top of him. "I didn't mean I couldn't sleep because it hurt. It was just very distracting not being able to reach it."
Harry blushed. Dean's eyes grew hooded with passion, and he reached a hand up to cup Harry's cheek. "I love it when you blush like that."
Harry lowered his head to lock lips with Dean again. Just inches away they were interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. Harry let his head fall to the pillow next to Dean's in disappointment.
"Not again," Dean growled quietly into Harry's ear.
"Harry?" A voice called from the hallway. Luckily for Dean, Harry couldn't hear his heart stop in panic at the voice. It had been a long time since Dean had heard his younger brother's voice.
"It's just my RA," Harry whispered in Dean's ear. "I should see what he wants."
Dean was too shocked to stop Harry from climbing off of him. Questions burned through his mind. Sam was at the door? Harry knew Sam? Sam was Harry's RA? What's an RA? Harry's getting off me? Harry's going to open the door? Harry's going to open the door!!!
It wasn't until Harry was halfway to the door before his mind caught up with the events going on around him. Dean had to stop Harry before he reached the door. So Dean chose the only weapon he had at his disposal to keep Harry from giving them both away… distraction.
Harry took a cautionary glance through the peephole in the door. Sam was outside in his gym clothes. Harry took note of the way his friend's hair was upturned slightly at the back. He recognized the cheerful expression on Sam's face. All evidence pointed to Sam having a pretty damn good night with Jessica… several times.
Harry put a hand on the doorknob and prepared a friendly insult to throw at Sam when he felt arms encircle his waist. Dean's mouth found the hollow on the side of his neck that always made him melt. Harry hadn't even heard Dean climb out of bed.
"Ignore it, baby," Dean said in a deep voice. Harry shivered at the change in demeanor. Harry knew that this was the side of Dean that Dean himself had told him about a year ago at the bar: seducer Dean. Dean and Harry had become so amicable at the bar that Dean hadn't needed to convince Harry to come home with him by going into full on seduction mode.
Harry suddenly found out why Dean was so capable of getting so many partners willingly into his bed. Dean's nimble fingers were everywhere. While one rubbed, the others stroked, teased, pinched and massaged the surrounding patches of skin. Dean's tongue lapped at Harry's neck before adding hungry suction.
Sam knocked again, more insistent.
Dean's left hand reached beneath the waistband of Harry's boxers. There was a moment of hesitation before Dean's fingers submerged themselves, seeking out the very piece of Harry that had kept Dean from sleeping. Harry gasped breathlessly. Dean sensed that Harry was about to moan and took preventative measures. His right hand abandoned one of Harry's nipple and instead moved Harry's head backwards. Dean arched Harry firmly against him and covered Harry's mouth with his own. Harry's moan disappeared into the caverns of Dean's throat.
Dean relaxed his onslaught as he heard Sam's gigantic footsteps move away from the dorm room door. It was too late though, Harry's sex drive had been started and Dean was going to have to satiate it or die trying. Dean felt he was up to the challenge.
Harry took Dean's lack of movement as an invitation to take the lead. Harry used both of his hands to rip Dean's undershirt in two. Dean had never been with a woman who was either motivated or strong enough to be so aggressive. Harry didn't even stop to enjoy the look of utter shock on Dean's face before attacking Dean's newly revealed flesh.
Dean had always known exactly which part of his body was the most sensitive to sexual manipulation. It appeared that Harry had remembered just how important it was to target Dean's large and overly susceptible nipples. Dean's knees buckled and they both fell to the floor, Harry on top. Harry kept a firm hold of Dean after that as he worked over each nipple for what felt like hours to Dean. Harry sucked each one and then nibbled as if to give each a massive hickey.
Harry left behind a wet trail of saliva leading to Dean's belly-button. He felt Big Dean press into his collarbone as he worked his tongue in and out of the curious abdominal hole. Giving in to Dean's whispered pleas, Harry focused his attention on Dean's groin.
Harry didn't provide immediate release though. He used his teeth to roll Dean's boxers down his legs, letting his hair teasingly fall over Big Dean. Dean grabbed a blanket off the back of Harry's desk chair and balled it up under his head. Harry realized that this gave Dean the leverage necessary to watch Harry's progress in his nether regions.
Harry took his time to lift Dean's right leg and kiss the inner thigh. His cheek rubbed suggestively next to Big Dean and his two friends. Harry repeated the procedure with Dean's left leg before moving to the Adonis belt. Big Dean settled into the crook of his neck as Harry focused his attention above.
By the time Harry took his first mouthful of Big Dean, its owner was panting powerfully. Dean's whole body was shaking in pleasure, his hands stroking through Harry's silky hair. It didn't take long before Harry felt Dean tightening indicating that release was imminent. Harry had dreamt about this moment too much for it to be over so quickly. Dean owed him more.
Harry made sure that Dean was completely entranced by his work on Big Dean before casting his spell. Ironically it was a different Dean that had taught it to him when he was in school. Dean Thomas, one of his Hogwarts dorm mates, had been bragging about a book of sex spells he'd "borrowed" from the restricted section. Harry had used his invisibility cloak to "borrow" it from Dean that very night. It was also where he learned the lubrication charm he had used with Dean last year in the Impala. It wasn't like Professor Flitwick had taught it to him in charms class.
This particular spell was one of Harry's favorites. It stopped the one affected by it from ejaculating until the caster lifted the spell. Harry just hoped Dean wouldn't mind being cursed for a while. Somehow Harry thought Dean could live with it.
Harry cupped Dean's balls in one hand and rubbed them slightly to cover the heat from the spell. Dean jerked up right at the sensation, feeling as if he were ejaculating right there. Dean moaned in delight, but when he checked there was no sign that Big Dean had released anything. Dean knew from experience that Big Dean always left an… impressive amount of evidence.
For one terrifying moment, Harry thought that Dean had realized what had happened. Then he remembered that this spell also gave the impression of a climax each time the cursed partner would have ejaculated. Apparently Harry had been just in time with his spell. Dean was in for a treat.
"Ready for the good stuff?" Harry asked, reaching for the supplies he kept in the desk drawer.
"Don't know how long the good stuff will last," Dean admitted, already donning the proffered condom.
Harry smirked as he added lubrication to Big Dean, "You'll do fine. Trust me."
An hour and a half later Dean and Harry were covered in sweat. Harry was still on top of Dean but they had certainly not stayed in the same position. Harry's room had been decimated as they used every surface available to rest upon or used as leverage. Harry's favorite had been up against the door, his eye to the peephole, as he watched the other people on his floor listening to the vivacious sex they were having.
Harry had forgotten to cast a silencing spell and thus they had drawn an impressive crowd. One of the soccer players down the hall had even brought popcorn for the rest. Harry was pleased with his good fortune that Sam and Jess and not been part of the crowd. At least they hadn't been a half hour ago.
Dean looked to be in rapture as yet another orgasm rocked him. Harry felt a little guilty that he had let Dean go so long without release. Dean even looked a little pained at times, and then confused. However, one expression that Dean wore more often than not was one of cockiness. Harry just knew that Dean's internal monologue was full of comments about how stud-like he was for not climaxing despite all signs to the contrary.
Harry felt his own climax approaching for the third time. To be fair to his partner, Harry had wandlessly cast the spell on himself. It had gone on long enough in his opinion.
"Soon, Dean." Harry ordered monosyllabically, "I. Close. You?"
Dean nodded as he started to thrust with all the energy he had left. It was now or never. Harry waited until the moment he felt the built up pressure was upon them again and then started a mental countdown.
Five...
Harry moaned as Big Dean rapidly hit his prostate again, and again, and again.
Four…
Dean's entire body shuddered beneath him. "Oh, God."
Three…
"Dean!"
Two…
"Harry!"
One…
Finite Incantatem.
Outside the door, down the floor, through the entire building and the courtyard outside the sound of two men screaming in pleasure was heard. The noise lasted almost three whole minutes, each second passing the noise diminishing slightly.
Harry collapsed against Dean, not even caring that Big Dean was still buried deep inside of him. Their chests heaved as oxygen was forced in and out rapidly. Dean turned his head to face Harry. They kissed sloppily, tasting heavy amounts of sweat and saliva, before they ran out of energy. Dean unwrapped the blanket he'd used to prop his head up when Harry had been servicing Big Dean. They cuddled beneath the warmth of the cotton and fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.
They never even heard the round of applause that erupted on the other side of the door.
Dean was still asleep when Harry woke up. Judging by the lack of light outside, they'd slept all day and into the night.
Harry left his head buried in the crook of Dean's armpit and bicep, just enjoying the feel of waking up next to Dean again. He knew what it meant that the sex was over. Dean would leave and a year from now Harry would run into him at Two of a Kind again. They'd drink, fuck, and then wait another year.
Harry drowned his disappointment. It was like he had told Dean earlier; the man didn't owe him anything. If you don't expect anything, you can't be disappointed… right?
As soon as Harry tried to sit up he realized what was stopping him. Big Dean was still buried a few inches inside of him. As much as Harry was a fan of Big Dean's work, the aftermath still being inside him after hours was something of a "yuck" factor. Not wanting to touch the thing, Harry let his magic summon it off of Dean all at once and deposited it into the waste bin.
Dean stirred slightly but didn't wake. Harry gave him a soft peck on the lips and then rose slowly. His body ached from the workout Dean and Big Dean had given him. His bones cracked from the hours of sleeping on the floor, even if Dean had been his flesh pillow.
He noticed a small beam of light on his bedside table and realized it was his phone. He plodded across the carpet, naked to the world, and picked up his phone. He had two text messages from Jess, and one from Sam. His cell phone brought them up chronologically from oldest to the most recent.
The first was from Jess at two in the morning.
Party was great! Won a prize for couples costume. I wanted to say thanks. Sam says you're buying him more popcorn :)
The second was from Sam.
Dude. Gym. y r u MIA? Gotta talk about last night.
The last was around dinnertime from Jess.
Heard some studs made a racket in your building this morn. This wouldn't be related to y u bailed on Sam the gym, wud it?
Harry smiled. Leave it to Jess to figure it out, and then to Sam for being too uncomfortable to mention it.
Dean stirred behind him. "Harry?"
"Up here."
Dean lifted his head off the floor to look at Harry standing by the bed. Dean devoured the sight. The glow from Harry's cell phone illuminated every sharp curve of his muscles. His features were shadowed but still obviously handsome. The tired smile he sent Dean's way made him feel dizzy. There was no doubt in Dean's mind that he'd bagged the sexiest guy to ever grace California to experiment with.
Dean stumbled over the word in his mind. Experiment? Is that what was still going on? It may have been simple curiosity and libido that brought Harry to the Impala last year, but things had changed. Dean hadn't tried to experiment with anyone else after leaving California last year. He'd even tried hunting Harry down, but his father kept unknowingly interfering. Dean rarely went back for seconds, and never so decisively. Whatever there was between Dean and Harry, he was sure it was no longer simple experimentation.
"You okay?" Harry asked, concerned by Dean's stillness.
"Just thinking."
"Don't exhaust yourself."
"Think you already exhausted me."
"Well, in that case, relax for a bit," Harry instructed him. "I'm going to wash off all this sweat."
"I don't think it's all sweat," Dean proclaimed proudly. "Want some company?"
Harry's hand froze on the towel he had just finished tying around his waist.
"What?" Dean asked.
"I..." Harry started, looking hard into Dean's eyes. He saw that Dean was genuine in his offer to shower together, his subconscious use of legilimency confirming it for him. "Sure."
Dean smiled and held out a hand for help. Harry sighed in mock-contempt and helped Dean to his feet.
"I'm going to need one of those," Dean said, nodding towards Harry's towel.
"What if I only have the one?"
"Then I guess we'll have to share."
Dean unwrapped the towel from around Harry's waist, letting it fall free. Dean drank in the sight of Harry standing naked in front of him. Harry never noticed because he was too busy looking at Dean's still sweat covered body. Dean brought their bodies flush together and wrapped the towel around them. It barely fit so Dean held the two ends together with his hand.
Dean brought his other hand around Harry's waist and kissed him. Both of their lips were chapped from dehydration. The kiss was short but had an intimate feel to it that was new for both parties.
"I really do have another towel," Harry admitted.
"I know," Dean replied, squeezing them even closer together. "I just wanted to say thank-you properly."
"Your welcome."
Harry wrapped his own arms around Dean and settled his face against the hard pectoral muscles of Dean's chest. Dean laid his head on top of Harry's mop of hair. They held each other for a few moments.
"We really should hit the showers."
"Uh-huh."
Neither of them made an effort to move.
"That's it?" Jess asked incredulously.
"That wasn't enough detail for you?" asked Harry in turn.
To Harry's great surprise, Dean had stayed the whole weekend with Harry. Granted, they only left the room to eat and shower, but it was more time together than last year.
As soon as Monday rolled around, Jess had taken Harry to lunch where they could talk by themselves. Jess had, of course, learned that the infamous love-making incident had indeed come from Harry's room. Like all good friends, Jess had demanded to know every last detail of her friend's sexual encounter.
"Well how did you leave it with TDH?" Jess asked, unsure what to call Harry's mystery man since he refused to give the guy a name. Jess had taken to calling him TDH or rather 'Tall, Dark and Handsome'.
Harry blushed. "I told him that I supposed we'd just meet again in a year."
Jess looked outraged. "And he left it like that? I'm going to have to remove TDH's balls for that!"
"No, he didn't leave it like that." Harry took a sip of coffee, purposefully dragging out the admission to drive his friend crazy.
"And?"
"And he said that he didn't want it to be another year before we saw each other again," Harry explained. "So he left me his number."
"I thought you already had it?"
"No," Harry clarified. "I gave him my number but he said that it got damaged while swimming or something. So this time he got my number and I got his."
"So did you call him yet?"
Harry sighed dejectedly. "Jess, he's on the road a lot with his dad for business. Who knows when he'll be back in California."
"What about holidays?" Jess suggested. "You always house sit for that Professor of yours. Why not invite TDH along? Even traveling businessmen get holidays off."
"Maybe."
Jess sighed. She knew better than to push Harry on personal stuff. She was his friend and if that meant shutting up so that he could feel free to open up later on than that's what she'd do.
"Speaking of sex," Harry said, non-discreetly changing the focus of the conversation. "How was your Halloween party with Sam?"
"He hasn't told you?"
Harry shook his head. "He sent me a text saying that he wanted to talk but that was it. I got a little distracted, remember?"
"Well, his RA re-applications are due in a few weeks. If he wants to be an RA in the dorms again he has to apply."
Harry nodded, knowing how much Sam needed the RA salary to pay for school. It was at times like this that Harry wished he still had his old Gringotts vault to dip into. He'd happily set up an anonymous scholarship in his friends' name… after he got one for himself, of course. It was such a pain to keep obliviating the woman at the Cashiers Office each semester.
"Well, I asked him to apply for an RL position instead."
Harry could see where the conversation was headed. RL's, otherwise known as Residential Life advisors, were the RA's of off campus lots. Instead of supervising a floor of a dormitory, they were responsible for a block of residential housing instead. The pay wasn't as good but the RL got a house to himself and whoever he wanted to live with him at no cost.
"You want to get a house with Sam next year?"
Jess nodded. "I was hoping you'd come with us, actually."
Harry went still. "You want me to live with you guys?"
"Of course, Harry. Sam may be a year older than us, but we're pretty much his only friends outside of those two sophomores from his department."
Harry vaguely recalled Sam having another guy he sometimes worked out with… Zach something or other.
"You know how much you mean to both of us, Harry."
Harry swallowed thickly. He'd never expected to meet anyone that he'd feel as close to as he had with Ron and Hermione. But he'd met Jess at orientation and they'd hit it off so well. Sam, who'd just been a cool RA to Harry before, had spotted Jess in Harry's room and immediately taken a liking to her. They'd been thick as thieves every since.
"If Sam says it okay, than I guess I'm in."
"Are you okay, son?" John asked, eyeing his eldest son with concern.
Dean debated how best to answer his father. Briefly he thought about telling him the truth, but somehow he didn't think his father would want to know about his emotional turmoil over Harry. No, Dad, I'm not. I just had the best sex of my life and I think I may actually be developing feelings for the person I had it with… by the way, it's a guy named Harry who goes to school with Sammy. Wanna talk about it? No, his father would not respond well to the truth.
This was the exact situation that he had always kept himself safeguarded from by following his simple dating rules. Okay, it was really just one rule: leave in the morning and don't go back unless it was really good. Harry had been amazing last year, but that day in his dorm room was unbelievable. There was a moment during his third and fourth orgasm that he wondered if he was experiencing love. Isn't that what people are supposed to feel when they find their soul mate? Weren't they supposed to fall completely head over heels?
Dean felt disgusted for even thinking the words "soul mate" or such a cliché as "head over heels."
And why did it have to be with a guy? He'd only wanted to experiment the one time and look what it'd gotten him. Every time he touched himself his mind conjured up the image of Harry riding him just before they had climaxed together. Dean and Harry had been so sexually drained that they spent the rest of the weekend just casually groping, but never going all the way again. That was the other thing that bothered Dean: since when did he stick around to talk when the sex time had obviously come to a conclusion… even a very satisfying one.
Just thinking about it was getting him hard again. He hadn't had such a problem keeping his erections under control since he was 13 and found out firsthand what a Playboy was.
"I'm fine, Dad." Dean said shortly, subtly readjusting himself in the passenger seat.
"You don't seem fine, Dean."
To Dean it seemed that his own chick-flick moment had infected his father as well. Usually Dean could just pretend to be fine and John would let it go… for a week or so. But God forbid his father actually want to discuss it.
Dean sighed.
John chuckled. "Girl troubles?"
Dean's head whipped around to look at his father in question. John smiled and tapped the steering wheel lightly. "I know that sigh, Dean. Your mother used to call it my 'female troubles' sigh."
Dean went still at the mention of his mother. John never brought her up. If not for Dean filling in the blanks, Sam wouldn't even know what Mary Winchester had looked like.
"Whenever your mother would drive me nuts, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it, I'd get real quiet and sigh just like that," John informed him pointedly.
"So what'd you do?" Dean asked.
"We'd talk it over." John smiled at some unseen point up the road. "In the end, she'd always get her way though."
Dean let the story digest for a moment.
"So what do I do?"
"Talk it over with her, Dean." John instructed immediately. "You've never been one to settle for very long with anyone, Dean. If some girl's caught your attention for this long than they're something worth holding onto… if even for a little while."
Dean nodded, still fingering his cell phone in his hands.
"Just remember, Dean," John warned his son, his voice deadly serious. "You let this girl into your life, you accept what happens to her. It might not be your choice to end things. Sometimes… things just happen."
Just as Dean was putting the phone back in his pocket it chirped an electronic sequence of beeps. John raised his eyebrow in question.
"Text message," Dean said, flipping open the phone. As he read the message, Dean felt warmth spreading in his stomach again.
Got plans for New Years? – H.
John saw the brief smile that lit up his son's face. It had been a long time since he'd seen Dean smile like that… not since his mother was still alive. It hurt John to know what he'd done to Dean to turn him into such a good hunter. Sometimes he wondered who the real monster was.
"Like I said, son," John said, staring off into the distance, "sometimes it's not up to you."
December 31
The "house" that Harry took care of for his professor was really more of a log cabin. It was just very modern on the inside with an indoor pool in the backyard. Harry had taken up the job immediately after hearing about it. The cabin was deep in the woods of southern California and his professor paid him decently enough. Plus Harry had no real residence to stay at, so it all worked out quite well for all of the parties involved.
Until now, Harry had never invited anyone to stay at the cabin with him over breaks. His professor had been very specific about not allowing others to the residence. Apparently the last student who had taken care of the vacation home had hosted a raging party there. He'd been fired and subsequently failed the course being taught by the owner. Dean would be his first guest.
Harry had been ridiculously nervous about inviting Dean to spend time with him. Had Harry been more confident in Dean's response, he might have suggested something closer like Christmas or Thanksgiving. By offering Dean some time at New Years he was providing the other man with an out. Not everyone got New Years Day off, so Dean had the perfect excuse. He had been relieved when Dean responded almost immediately that he'd be free and to just send him the address. They were going to spend the whole week together.
Part of Harry's job as caretaker was to keep the place stocked and cleaned so he wasn't worried about those fronts. He was more worried about the sleeping arrangements. There was only the one bed, obviously located in the master bedroom. Was that too presumptuous? What if Dean wanted the couch instead?
Before he knew it night had arrived and Dean was at the front door, a grocery bag held firmly in each arm. Harry eyed the bags, eyebrows raised.
"What?" Dean asked defensively, "I eat a lot of food."
Harry held the door open as Dean passed over the threshold. He took up one of Dean's bags and led him to the kitchen. Dean whistled when he saw the fully stocked refrigerator.
"I guess you had that covered, huh?" Dean asked sheepishly.
Now that Dean was no longer carrying the grocery bags, both men were stuck in an awkward position. The bags had provided an excuse not to greet each other, but now that they were gone… what did they do? Did they shake hands, or was that too formal? Hug like manly friends? Did they kiss? Was that too romantic?
In the end it was Harry's Gryffindor courage that won out. He approached Dean slowly, giving the other man time to escape, before kissing him gently. The kiss was, needless to say, quite awkward and embarrassing for the both of them. Neither was sure what to do now that they had actually planned to meet like normal people would.
"Well, that was…" Dean trailed off, looking for a polite way to end the comment.
"Awkward," Harry finished for him. Dean nodded, thankful that they'd acknowledged it.
Dean wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and dragged him into a sudden kiss. He waited for Harry to stop his surprised struggling before deepening the kiss. When they pulled away, Harry's eyes were still closed.
"Better?" Dean asked.
"Much." Harry led Dean to the bedroom. "Let me give you a tour."
A few hours later…
Harry snuggled against Dean's side. Dean kissed the top of Harry's forehead.
"Happy New Years, Harry."
"Happy New Years, Dean."
Both fell asleep with the same thought. Best New Year's Ever.
Dean, Harry discovered, like to touch… a lot. It always started with a sleepy Harry feeling the light strokes of Dean's talented fingers. Never in a particularly sexual area, just somewhere on his skin.
Which is why Harry blamed Dean for always starting things up. It was always Dean needing to touch some part of Harry's flesh. Shoulder, neck, stomach, calve, ass… they were all just play toys to Dean. Not that Harry was complaining, it was just that when Harry was touched, he touched back.
Harry liked to return contact with his tongue. Eventually he would seek out one of Dean's nipples and it would be hours before either woke again. Usually only to start the process all over again.
Whole days went by where Dean and Harry just slept and pleasured each other. Eventually Harry got too sore to take on Big Dean and they ended up talking. This wasn't the usual conversation between stolen kisses and chaste touches. They learned the small details that most people learned over dates.
Dean learned that Harry liked to cook. Harry learned that his food tasted even more amazing than usual when it eaten off of Dean's flesh.
Harry learned that Dean could fight. Dean learned that he liked it when Harry pinned him down.
Dean learned that Sam and Harry were quite close. Harry learned that Dean was always willing to hear about his friends. Maybe one day Dean would meet Sam and Jess.
Harry learned that Dean hadn't slept with anyone else, man or woman, since their Halloween escapade. Dean learned that Harry hadn't slept with anyone since their time in the Impala.
The only thing they hadn't learned was what to call each other.
"You really didn't sleep with anyone else?" Dean asked for the hundredth time.
"No, Dean." Harry responded, propping himself up on one of the pillows. "You haven't been with anyone either."
"So?"
"From what you told me, that's not the norm for you."
"I repeat, so?"
"Should I be reading into this, Dean?" Harry asked finally, fingering the sheets between them. "Am I… are we… in a relationship?"
Dean swallowed thickly. He hated these conversations. He couldn't be tied down when he traveled from one end of the country to the other on any given day. Not to mention, Dean could be killed on a hunt without any explanation to give to Harry on why he disappeared.
"Do you want to be in a relationship?" Dean asked, pointedly not answering the question himself.
"I don't know. I know that I like you… that I care about you. I know that I like what we have, Dean."
"So do I."
"Then lets not label it anything. We're just… friends."
"Friends with benefits?"
Harry smirked, "Maybe something with a less crude connotation, but, yes, I guess that would be pretty accurate."
"No strings?"
"Just one, Dean." Harry said seriously, looming so close that their faces almost touched. "Holidays are mine."
Dean laughed. "Deal."
Groundhog Day
"I really don't think Groundhog Day counts as a real holiday, Dean."
Dean kissed Harry again in order to silence him. Harry allowed himself to be gently pushed against the wall, Dean's hand cradling the back of his head.
"Jeez, talk about someone who doesn't like surprises," Dean murmured against Harry's lips.
"I missed you," Harry confessed, letting his hands slide up and down Dean's hard sides.
"It's only been a month."
"A month and three weeks," Harry complained. "That's practically two months! Didn't you miss me, too?"
"Of course I did. Didn't you get my text messages?"
Harry nodded. "Texting me quizzes on band members doesn't count, Dean."
"How does making sure you know who the lead guitarist in AC/DC is not count as keeping in touch?" Dean demanded.
"It's not romantic."
"We don't like romance," Dean countered.
Harry nodded. "Fine, fine. Have it your way."
"That's what I like to hear."
Harry laughed as Dean picked him up and threw him onto the dorm bed. Harry made sure to send wandless locking and silencing spells at the door before Dean succeeded in distracting him completely.
Valentine's Day
John brought the pitcher of beer to the booth that Dean had saved for them. This was their celebratory tradition after a successful hunt. Of course, successful in the Winchester vocabulary meant they got the big-baddie and no one got killed or injured in the process. Thus, it was a rare occasion and worthy of mediocre beer and some televised sports.
Dean had his phone open again and that bright smile on his face. John had seen that smile every day since New Years when Dean had disappeared for a few weeks. It was such a change in demeanor for Dean that he'd even fed his eldest son a few shots of holy water with his drinks… just in case.
Now he knew better. John had long ago determined which smile Dean wore each time he was thinking about whatever girl had taken his son's heart. John had long ago given up hope of Dean settling down with a girl, but now… now he wasn't sure. He wondered how long it would be before he lost both of his sons to the world beyond hunting.
How long would it be before John was truly alone in the world?
"Why wonders never cease," John said, setting the beer down on the table. "Is that my son, Dean, grinning like a school girl over some woman on Valentine's Day?"
Dean blushed and put his phone in his jacket pocket. "No."
"No?" John asked, disbelief carved into his facial features.
"We're not like that, Dad. We don't do mushy."
"Than what was that on the phone?"
"She sent me a picture," Dean explained, trying to make the 'she' sound as natural as possible. He'd cross that bridge with his father when he was ready, not because he slipped up and revealed that he was seeing a man.
"Oh," John said, understanding filling his eyes, "one of those pictures."
"What?" Dean asked, his voice going high, "NO. Not one of those pictures! Gross, Dad."
"Than a picture of what, Dean?"
Dean smirked and passed his father the phone. John eyed the picture in confusion before bursting out laughing.
On the screen was a picture of two dogs, one a Golden Retriever and the other a Rottweiler, who were sitting in bed together. Their paws were touching as if they were holding hands. Across the bedpost was a thought bubble that read, "Wanna bone?"
Beneath the picture was Harry's text.
Thinking of you on V-Day. Don't go chick-flick on me. – H.
John passed the phone back to Dean.
"She's perfect for you, Dean."
Mardi Gras
Weeks ago Dean and Harry had set up a system for letting each other know when they were in the area. If Dean was waiting for Harry, he'd leave a large "D" on his white board hidden beneath a magnet. Every day when Harry got back from classes he would lift the magnet to see if Dean had left him anything.
He grinned as he saw Dean's messy "D" scribbled beneath the magnet. He'd just known that Dean wouldn't be able to resist celebrating Mardi Gras with him.
When he opened the door, Dean was already undressed and waiting for him.
"Fancy meeting you here," Harry said, locking the door behind him.
"I was just doing some reading on Mardi Gras," Dean explained, showing Harry a printout of an internet page. "Did you know they have these little beads in New Orleans that symbolize how… active a person has been during Mardi Gras?"
Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Oh really? Fascinating."
Dean nodded in agreement. "I knew you'd feel that way. In fact, I may have brought some with me to show you."
Harry stripped off his shirt. "I'd love to see them."
Dean lifted a finger to stop Harry's progress. "Oh no, Harry. Weren't you listening? You only get the beads after you've earned them."
Harry smirked. "I always did look good in beads."
St. Patrick's Day
Sam slammed the shot down on the counter.
"Careful with my counter, boy," A gruff Bobby-the-bartender ordered from behind the bar.
Sam nodded immediately before turning to Harry and Jess.
"Is there a reason we're at a gay bar, Harry?"
Jess answered for Harry, "We're waiting for TDH, obviously."
"TDH?" Sam asked.
"Tall, Dark and Handsome," Harry explained. "That's what she calls him."
"What do you call him?" Sam asked.
"Whatever he wants me to," Harry said suggestively, mock-leering towards Sam.
"Too much information, dude."
Jess laughed at the boys. Harry nervously checked the bar again.
"He was supposed to be here half an hour ago."
Jess put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sure he's just running late, Harry."
"I just wanted him to finally meet you guys, that's all."
Sam and Jess shared a look behind Harry's back. They both knew that Harry had fallen hard for this guy. They didn't want to see him get hurt.
From outside the bar Dean re-read the text message he had been debating sending Harry for the last half-hour. He'd shown up at the bar to find that Harry had brought Sam and an attractive woman that he assumed was his girlfriend Jess.
Harry and Dean hadn't seen each other in weeks. Dean had been looking forward to getting drunk with Harry on St. Patrick's Day all week. Why did Harry have to ruin it by bringing Sammy along?
Dean knew why. Harry wanted to introduce him to his friends. If only Harry had chosen to be friends with someone else. Dean pressed the 'send' button and got back into the Impala. He didn't want to have to bear witness to Harry's reaction to the message.
Inside the bar Harry visibly brightened at the sound of his text message alert going off. He quickly snapped open the phone and read the message, each word diminishing his happiness.
Can't come tonight. Got bogged down with work. Catch you next time. – D.aHarHh
Harry smashed the cell phone into his pocket and ordered another round.
Memorial Day
It had been months since Harry had heard from Dean. Which is why it was so surprising when Dean showed up out of the blue at Harry's door.
"Dean?" Harry asked, shocked.
"Hey, Harry," Dean greeted before passing out cold.
Harry saw some blood staining the inside of Dean's coat and shirt. He took immediate action and levitated Dean onto his bed. After making sure that Dean was completely unconscious he cast all of the diagnostic spells that Madame Pomfrey had taught him during the war.
It soon became apparent that Dean had been grazed by some knives or some other sharp instrument. Three long gashes, very similar to some of the claw marks Remus Lupin used to endure at the full moon, were cut into Dean's flesh. Harry wondered if Dean had been attacked by a bear or something.
Harry put both his hands over Dean's wound and allowed his healing magic to flow through his fingertips. Slowly the cuts began to heal to the point that no one would complain about them. Harry had to resist healing the remainder of the injury as it might alert Dean to his supernatural gifts.
He wrapped the wound with some conjured gauze and cleaned out the wound. He made sure to check for infections. Finally he was satisfied that Dean would live without permanent consequences.
Harry debated joining Dean on the bed, but decided against it. He was pretty sure the only reason he had ever seen Dean again was because he'd obviously been injured. Instead, Harry grabbed one of the pillows and a blanket and settled onto the dorm floor carpet.
In the morning he awoke to see Dean hovering over him. He jerked upright in surprise.
"It's just me," Dean said lightly.
"Never expected to see you again," Harry responded tightly. "So forgive me if I'm surprised."
Dean had the good sense to at least appear ashamed for his actions. He also didn't offer any explanation for his whereabouts either.
"Going to fill me in on what happened?" Harry asked.
"Animal attack," Dean lied immediately.
"Practice that much, did you?" Harry mocked. "I've never pushed you for personal details, Dean. Do me the favor of just not answering. Don't lie to me."
"I'm not, Harry."
"Whatever, Dean."
They waited in silence until Dean broke it. "How have you been?"
"You actually care now?" Harry demanded.
"I never stopped caring, Harry."
"I sent you how many text messages, Dean? And you responded to a grand total of zero of them. You call that caring?"
"I call it me fucking up," Dean admitted. "I wanted to text back. I did."
"Than why didn't you?"
Dean sighed. "You asked me not to lie and I can't tell you the truth, so…"
Harry nodded in understanding. "I thought you were dead," he whispered.
"I wish I could tell you, Harry. You have no idea."
"You're right, Dean. I don't know. I don't know where you're from, what your job is. Dean, I don't even know your last name. And now you show up, bleeding on my doorstep with no explanation. You could be a criminal or an axe murderer for all I know!"
"Harry…"
"You know the worst part of it, Dean?" Harry asked, exhaustion layered in his voice.
"What's the worst part, Harry?"
"I don't even care. You could be an escaped con and I don't think it would matter. I'd still want you."
Hearing Harry's voice waiver towards the end was all Dean needed to hear to know he'd been forgiven for bailing on Harry that night at Two of a Kind. He knelt next to Harry and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I promise I'm not an ex-con or an axe-murderer, Harry," Dean whispered, morbidly wondering how Harry would feel about hunting as his professional occupation.
At first, Harry didn't respond. After a few minutes Dean felt Harry's arms tighten around his neck and lower back, being mindful of the new bandages.
"Just don't do it again, okay?"
"I promise."
"And Dean?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Happy Memorial Day."
The End of August
Harry handed Sam another box from the back of the van. Jess was already inside the house, unpacking the boxes the boys were steadily filling the home with. Sam's application for RL had been accepted and now the three of them were moving back in. Unlike the other off-campus residences, the RL had a home all to themselves instead of splitting it in half with someone else.
"This one says kitchen, I think," Harry said.
"Remind me again why we let you label the boxes, chicken-scratch?" Sam mocked his friend lightly.
"Because you're just the one who carries the heavy stuff, Bam-Bam," Harry shot back. Sam blushed and walked the box into the house.
Harry felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He slipped it out of his jeans and read over Dean's latest quiz. Name the three most famous members of The Band.
Ever since Dean's mysterious injury on Memorial Day things had been steadily returning to normal between Harry and Dean. They'd even spent a month road tripping in the Impala over the summer. They'd also returned to having regular amounts of sex that didn't need magical enhancement, which pleased Harry to no end.
Maybe this year he'd actually get to introduce his housemates to his boyfriend… friend… whatever.
"You just going to sit there all day?" Jess yelled from the house. "Or are you actually going to bring in another box?"
"I'm coming!" Harry yelled back laughing. He grabbed a box at random and stacked a few smaller ones on top of it. As he climbed out of the back of the rented van his jean pants caught on a loose object and he tripped. The boxes he was carrying tumbled out of the open van door and onto the sidewalk.
"Shit," Harry muttered.
"You okay, dude?" Sam asked, already picking up the dislodged items. "Figures you'd wreck one of my boxes."
"Sorry," Harry apologized. He grabbed some of the loose papers and photos that had fallen to the ground first, just in case the wind picked up and sent the light-weight items flying.
Harry eye caught one of the images and his whole body went rigid.
"Something wrong?" Sam asked, realizing that his friend had stopped picking up the fallen items from the sidewalk.
"What is this picture of, Sam?" Harry asked, handing the photo to his friend.
Sam looked at the photo and Harry watched the wave of emotions that flickered over his friends face. Surprise, joy, guilt, anger, sadness… he witnessed them all.
"Sam?" Harry prodded. Sam looked up as if just realizing that Harry had asked him a question to begin with.
"It's my brother and I at a carnival when we were in High School," Sam explained.
Harry swallowed thickly. "I don't think you've ever mentioned having a brother before."
"We don't really get along. I haven't seen him in years, actually."
"I'm sorry," Harry replied, his throat going dry. "What did you say his name was again?"
"Dean," Sam answered, putting the picture back into the box. "His name is Dean."
Later that day Dean was taking a piss when his cell phone beeped at him. He recognized the unique pattern of musical notes that he had established was Harry's individual alert tone. He quickly shook Big Dean, and peeked at Harry's latest message.
We need to talk, Dean. Call me ASAP. – H.
Author's Note: After re-reading this, I realized I've set up a kind of sexual tension thing between Jess and Harry with the whole "you know how much you mean to us" conversation. I'd just like to make it clear that Harry will only be with Dean as he is not attracted to girls in this story. If Sam were to make the offer… well that'd be a whole different story :) No, literally that would be a different story. It's listed in my favorites under my good friend scarletsptember. Both her stories are really worthwhile… I should know, I beta for her.
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