Word Count: 1,127
Disclaimer: Do not own
Beta: None
Pairing: Harry/Dean. (Eventually)
Warnings: Anything and everything I've mentioned before.

AUTHORS NOTE: Those of you who have been following me a long time know I've been getting really sick, a lot. This time I just..couldn't get rid of the flu. I've been miserable and this past week I've been catching up on school work. I'm so sorry.

Dean is pretty damn sure he has Harry figured out. The man is obviously easily affected by people who need something. Anything, actually, in general seems like it affects Harry in some way, shape or form. Dean, who is still a little weary, affects him the most. Dean has never been stupid, he might not ace school like Sammy did, but he wasn't stupid.

Harry wants to help him. Dean gets that, he understands it. Harry wants to help him so much that he was willing to buy Dean from John, house Dean for—well, Dean guessed, forever—and then get Dean all the extra's he needed. He had to have a ulterior motive, anybody who was sane would. It was common sense, you do something for some one they owe you one. Except, as the days went on, Harry was nothing but nice. He never asked for anything more.

Dean threw tantrums, he sulked, he tried to run away—that didn't go to well. Harry had found him and hauled him back, not without giving him a choice though—the point was, Dean had done a lot of crap within the last couple of months. Yet, no matter how he acted, Harry didn't throw him out or beat him.

In a way, Dean was grateful. He still had a lot anger, a lot of unresolved problems. Harry was willing to deal with him though, and that, in a way, was what could possibly be the turning point for his life. (How many turning points are there in someone's life? Hundreds? Thousands? A turning point could be the difference of taking a left over a right one day.)

Dean knew, deep down, that Harry was all he had right now. Some part of him longed to hear Sammy burst through the front door, excited about achieving an "A" on some exam. That wouldn't happen though, Sammy had abandoned him and had gone with John when they left Dean. He hadn't even left a little note saying he was okay or that he never wanted to see Dean again. Dean had nothing to go on, Sam probably hated him. He was probably thinking that Dean was a disgusting whore.

Dean's hand clenched, the spoon he was eating with digging into his palm. His shoulders dropped even farther with that thought. Sammy would never know that what Dean did, he did for the family. To keep Sam well fed and clothed for school. He wouldn't ever come to appreciate that Dean would do anything for family, no matter what.

That wouldn't happen now. His family had gone from small to nonexistent. No Sammy, no John. Just Dean...and maybe Harry given time. Dean rubbed his forehead and sighed, spoon pushing around some of his cereal. Thinking about life always made him depressed as fuck. His life kind of sucked, it always had. He could always blame John though. That seemed like the logical thing, or he could blame the Demon that fucked them over more than once.

"Hey, Dean." Harry mumbled, slowly making his way into the kitchen. He was only wearing pajama bottoms and Dean rolled his eyes. Harry didn't know the meaning of "shirt" unless they were going out in public. He constantly took his off and it was hard for him to keep it on in public. He was one-of-a-kind if you really thought about it.

There was something...different about him though. Besides being way to kind to random whores, Harry had this aura about him. Something that made people trust him a little to quick. If you were being honest though, the thing that made you trust him was probably his eyes. Bright emerald green... They were brighter than anyone else's that he had ever met.

Dean glanced up when Harry plopped down in front of him with a bowl of cereal. The man didn't even open his eyes as he started shoveling food in his mouth. "Harry?"

Harry glanced up, "Yeah, that is my name." He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. "What's wrong?" It was kind of sad that Harry had to ask what was wrong when Dean just wanted to know something. Dean never went to Harry when something was fine, he knew that.

"Just...Nothing. Never mind." Dean glanced down at the table, attention shifting to all of the nicks in the wood.

Rolling his eyes, Harry cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "Bull. Something's up." He swirled his spoon around, looking at Dean with a 'stop-lying-I-know-something-is-bothering-you' look. He casually shoveled more cereal into his mouth as he waited.

"Why..." Dean paused. "Why do you put up with all my shit?" That wasn't quite the question he wanted to ask. Why haven't you used me yet? Why haven't you tried to beat the disobedience out of me? Why are you still here, looking after me as if I was an actual human being and not your personal property?

Harry looked right into Dean's eyes, honesty pouring from them. "Why wouldn't I?"

If he was honest with himself, Dean never tried to look for the good in people. He never thought there was any. If you weren't a kid, you weren't innocent. As simple as that. " `Cause, with the way the world works, you should be wanting something in return. You shouldn't just be putting up with my shit. It's...well, it's stupid."

"So?" Harry leaned back in his chair and cocked an eyebrow. "You're worth it, Dean. You might not see it, hell, I know you don't see it. I see it though, I see the passion in your eyes on the good days and I know what you can accomplish in your life. You're worth every penny and every headache."

Silence followed Harry's words. Dean wanted to run, thats what he had been doing his whole life. He couldn't though, Harry would just follow him and be so... so... so Harry.

It always came down to Harry. Harry this and Harry that. Dean frowned slightly, he was so dependent on this man, this stranger who bought him. So...infatuated? Was that even possible? Could he jump from basically hating this man to liking him? Was it a variation of Stockholm Syndrome?

He wasn't being kept here against his will though. Harry had offered on many occasions to let him go, hell, he would of gladly set Dean up with a house and a monthly income.

What the fuck was going on?

Dean moved out of his chair quickly, brain still whirling. He moved around the table and sat beside Harry. Before he knew what he was actually doing, his hands had moved to cup Harry's face. He had leaned in and gently pressed his lips against the other man's.

He pulled back slowly.

Silence descended upon the kitchen.

A/N; Please review, I'm kind of in need of encouragement.