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Of Werewolves And Humans

Chapter 16 ~ The First Time

THEN:

„But you wouldn't want to be what you'd become.", Dean countered silently. „And I don't want you to become a monster. - Because that's what you'd be. You'd be a killing-machine. You'd feed from humans because that's what the turned ones do."

„And you don't?", Sam asked then.

Dean chuckled. „I could. But I've no need to feed from your kind. - I'm satisfied with a chop-steak or a plate full of bacon."

The corners of Sam's lip curled up a little and he nestled closer, closing his eyes.

NOW:

Days passed ...

Sam had gone for Bobby's books in the living-room. He had been reading every possible book and article about werewolves and specially the chapters about what "mates" and "mating" and the weirdest things of all: "knotting" (Sam hadn't figure out what it truly meant, but the one picture he had found about it, was disturbing enough to know that he DIDN'T want to do THAT) meant. He thought that if he wanted to understand what it felt like for Dean, then he had to know EVERYTHING about wolves. He had to know about the things that weren't written in Caleb's little diary. The things he NEEDED to know (more specifically: the things he WANTED to know).

What it meant for Sam, being a not-supernatural mate. Some of the things were plainly scaring the hell out of him. Some on the other side didn't sound as bad. At least because Sam had the reassuring feeling that Dean wouldn't hurt him – at least not knowingly.

The werewolf had grown on him and Sam wasn't sure if it was because of the fact that he matter-of-factly had saved him from a way worse future (except death, since death didn't sound as bad as so many other things Sam had endured). Or if it was just some kind of friendship ... a weird feeling friendship.

Because there were these feelings. Feelings he couldn't quite name yet. But they were there – and they were growing. These feelings made him all comfortable or tingly in Dean's presence.

It felt like love sometimes. And then again ... Sam couldn't believe that it was THAT. Because then he thought about Dean and him, and the way the wolfman looked at him.

It was somehow illogical for Sam.

There was – in fact – something in Dean's eyes – sometimes – that looked like love – or at least adoration.

But Sam just couldn't believe that someone was able to LOVE him. Because of what he became ... because of what he was. No matter what he had been before all this had happened.

For Dean Winchester it wasn't that simple. The more time he spent with Sam, the more intensive his feelings became for him. (In plain english: He had the hots for the human). It wasn't just because of his unmistakable scent. It was because of everything. His smile, his movements, his lips, his eyes ... his ass.

And that was where Dean cut off his own thoughts.

Sam was too precious. He'd hurt the human. He'd lose all the trust he had gained so far if he would make the wrong move now or in the nearest future. Dean had to wait until he could be sure that Sam was feeling at least something for him in return. Before he'd dare and try to even kiss him. - No matter how tempting some situations between the both of them were.

And if it wouldn't work out as he meant it had to, he had to leave. Had to get away from his mate before he'd do something stupid. Before he'd do what the wolf in him longed for.

It wasn't just about sex. Well, it was also about sex. But not like that. Not the brutal and rough force as it was written in most of those old books Bobby owned. Nothing about bringing his mate into submission. It was an act of trust and love – an act that would intensify and bind their bodies and souls together in this life.

Usually they'd feel both the same way. Usually they'd seal their bond with this act. They'd share their love like a sacrament. Like a holy congregation.

The act of baring the one to another and vice versa. Showing each other the definite trust and love they were meant to share.

That was what the wolf in Dean was screaming for. What Dean was longing for so badly it sometimes physically HURT to be close to Sam. He was meant to bond with his mate. To share what no one else could have in the entire world – each other.

Two souls becoming one ...

Dean also had started to sense that Sam was feeling SOMETHING for him – though he couldn't put his finger on it yet. Sometimes it seemed, like Sam knew exactly what he was thinking. Handed him the barbecue-sauce without being asked or getting him a beer – just like that – in close to the same moment he thought that a beer wouldn't be bad.

Sam might not noticed it right away ... but Dean did. And he was more than happy about it.

Because it showed, that he wasn't alone in this. That Sam had to feel kind of similar about him. Maybe they'd be at least good friends. - Or something.

Maybe they had a chance to become more than what they were now.

Thomas was barely at the Salvage ever since that one breakfast days ago. He spent most of the time in the bar he worked at beside the highway, fifteen miles outside on the southern side of Sioux Falls. He probably felt like an outcast.

Though Dean didn't care. Not at all.

He HAD insulted Sam. HAD insulted Dean.

He didn't deserve anything else at the moment.

As long as he wasn't able to tolerate and accept what Sam was and what he meant to Dean (and the pack) now, he wouldn't be as welcome as he had been before.

Every time Thomas showed up – in Sam's presence – the air thickened and Dean grew slightly overprotective and kept himself between Sam and the other wolf. He wouldn't let Thomas closer as a couple of yards. When Dean knew that Thomas had his day off and hadn't left the house yet, he wouldn't even leave Sam alone in a room. Not when he knew that Thomas was close by ... or even inside the house.

He watched over Sam like a hawk.

It was one of these lazy mornings, when Dean didn't need to get up that early to walk over to the garage on the other end of the yard. He had the day off and all the time to spend his time with Sam. - To do whatever Sam was up to. So he had figured he'd stay in bed with the human until later that morning, have an extraordinary rich breakfast and spend the rest of it, until lunch, on the porch. Sitting on the porch-swing with Sam and watching the crows and the wrecks ... or something like that.

Something simple, where he'd have all the time to FEEL Sam's presence and listen to him – even when he was just breathing.

The younger Winchester moaned silently and turned over on his back. The curtains were closed. So there was no winter-sun disturbing his slow awakening.

He groaned and stretched his limps from him, recognizing that one thing was missing beside him: A human called Sam. Dean's eyes flew open and a low disapproving growl ripped from his throat. He then sat up and his gaze swept through the room, awaiting to see Sam huddled up in one of the corners of the room.

The sneaky bastard managed from time to time to get out of bed without Dean recognizing it. And Sam always demanded later that he didn't remember how he made it out of bed and into one of the corners.

Surely Dean believed him. He knew what Sam had been through, that he was still suffering of what had been done to him.

As the younger Winchester realized, that there was no huddled up human around, his wolfish instincts kicked in and he strained his ears.

Maybe he had gone into the bathroom.

He heard no movement on the floor, but plenty of it came from downstairs. Dean sucked in a slow and deep breath through his nose, trying to take in Sam's scent.

And it was there – fading, but it was there. And it guided him towards the bathroom. - What reminded him of taking care of his own business. As he was done, he followed Sam's smell downstairs and directly into the kitchen.

And there he was. In his plaid-pyjamas (wich still hung from his body as if they were oversized. But in fact they weren't too long. Just too wide. Showing that he was way too skinny for his hight).

Sam stood at the stove. On each hot plate a pan. The coffee-machine was gurgling. The bacon was sizzling. The eggs roasting. And the amazingly dizzying scent of grilled – bloody – steaks was filling the room.

The radio was playing silently. So silent – and still everyone in the house would hear it. Though Dean appreciated Sam's try to keep the sounds low to not wake anyone of the wolves.

Sam was moving his hips to the left and right in the rhythm of Asia's hit Heat of the Moment, tipping with a spoon rhythmically on the folded rag beside the stove.

A smile tugged on Dean's lips and he leaned against the door frame, watching the human's performance with a growing smirk.

And no ... he wouldn't let him know that he was standing there and watching. The sight before him was just too ... adorable. And Dean could already imagine how Sam'd blush when he'd notice him, or see him.

At that thought, Dean Winchester had to bite back a chuckle.

The refrain came on and when the singer started with "'Cause it's the heat of the moment. The heat of the moment ...", Sam pointed with an outstretched index finger towards the window, shook his hips to the left and right in a way faster rhythm (wouldn't it have been for the giant guy, it would've looked girly – at least Dean Winchester had that impression) and started to turn around.

"The heat of the moment showed in your eyes", Sam was mouthing, his finger pointing at the – very amused looking – younger Winchester and he stilled instantly.

His yaw dropped, his eyes widened at the realization that he had been caught in the act, and the spoon fell from his hand, while the one with whom he was pointing at Dean sank down slowly.

The music kept playing, while Sam kept staring at Dean.

The music kept playing, while the bacon sizzled, the eggs roasted and the steaks grilled.

The music kept playing, while the coffee-machine made its last sounds, signaling that the hot black liquid was ready to be consumed.

"Better have a look at that bacon, Sammy.", Dean mentioned amused, as the human kept staring at the Winchester in shock.

Sam blinked.

"The bacon, Sam. - It's gonna burn.", He repeated calmly.

Dean Winchester was hungry. - Maybe not in the way he used to be usually ... but damn it, he WAS starving. With one strike he felt as malnourished as a wolf could possibly be. It wasn't the hunger you could mollify with a piece of meat. It was sitting deeper. It was more fundamental.

The human swallowed hard and turned around on his heels, taking the pan with bacon from the hot plate. Still embarrassed – with trembling hands – he took the pan with scrambled eggs from the stove and got the steak out of the pan before it'd be too medium for the pack to eat.

Sam shook his head slightly, so his hair eventually fell over his eyes and into his face, hiding the shame and embarrassment that dared to overwhelm him. He sucked in his lower lip, chewing on it insecurely, as he took the nine plates from the counter to carry them into the dining room next door. Sam kept his head down, not daring to look at Dean while he would pass him.

But the younger Winchester stepped in his way, a longing expression in his eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips and held his arms out towards the plates.

"Gimme that.", he said softly, "I'll get that."

Sam gave him a short nod without looking up and let the plates being taken away from him. He then turned around again and gathered forks and knives from the drawer. When he turned around to set the table with them, there was Dean again. Taking the flatware from the younger man's hands.

"I'll do that.", he just said and vanished again.

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, turning back towards the counter. He stood there for a moment, before his look fell on the spoon he let fall earlier. With a deep sigh he bowed down and his fingers barely touched the piece of metal, as another hand appeared and got to the spoon sooner.

He followed the hand and the spoon with his look and finally his gaze landed on a pair of emerald-green eyes. Sparkling and glistening at him. Not with amusement anymore. With pure adoration and warmth.

Sam blushed even more and he looked down on himself again, biting his lower lip harder. He felt a gentle touch on his jaw and Dean's fingers ghosting over his forehead, brushing the hair aside. The other male traced his fingertips over Sam's cheek and let them rest on his yaw, tipping his head up slightly. Sam's gaze met Dean's again.

The wolf locked his deep green eyes with Sam's hazel-ones.

His thump ghosted over Sam's lower lip – ever so gently – sending thousands of tingly sparkles through his nerval system. Sam's lips opened slightly and he closed his eyes at the sensation that washed over his whole body.

Dean stepped closer, wrapping one arm around Sam's middle, while he traced his thump over the human's upper lip, letting him feel the same sensation again.

And Sam exhaled softly, letting himself being guided closer, until their bodies met, and Dean felt Sam's flat belly against his.

Sam let his head being tilted downwards a bit more, not seeing Dean's hungry looks. Not noticing the need in the wolf's eyes to seal his full lips over Sam's tender cushions. Not noticing Dean's inner fight about what he was going to do.

Dean's lips moved closer, waiting for any sign that Sam didn't want to do this.

The human laid a hand on Dean's cheek, blowing out a soft breath as he felt Dean getting closer to him. The younger Winchester ghosted with his lips over Sam's – asking. And Sam did the same to Dean's – answering.

When their lips met, when Dean covered Sam's with his, it was like fireworks in their bodies. It was like christmas morning, like all-years-eve and easter in one go.

The wolf drew him closer and the human let him.

Dean's tongue teased Sam's lips. Not forcing. But asking for permission.

And Sam let him. - Saying yes.

The wolf took his sweet time, mapping and licking his way through Sam's warm mouth. He tasted like sweet coffee and typically Sam. Just Sam. And so much better as he ever had imagined it'd feel like, it'd taste like.

It felt like there'd be nothing else but this man in Dean Winchester's life ever more.

Sam didn't fight him, didn't push him away or something else. To be honest: He liked that. It felt like he was coming home after all these years. It felt like he finally found his place in the world - again.

Dean cupped the back of the human's head as he started to kiss him back hesitantly, getting grittier as time moved on.

And the wolf let him.

After a long while they parted, slightly breathless. Dean searched Sam's face for signs of distress or that he haven't wanted this, even when he felt that it had been alright, that Sam had wanted it.

Dean needed to be sure. Needed the reassurance.

Sam smiled shyly, sucking in his swollen lower lip – unsure what to do next. What Dean wanted him to do or to say. What he was supposed to do without ruining the moment.

So they stood there for another while. Staring into each others eyes.

Sam wanted to taste him again. He wanted to have another try to make it better than before. To proof that he could do it just like Dean.

So he narrowed slowly, laying his flat palm on Dean's neck, pulling him closer. He tilted his head down once again, searching the wolfman's soft lips.

The second time felt even better than the first one. It felt like heaven and hell and everything in between. It was breathtaking and sweet.
They didn't care if the breakfast got cold beside them.

They didn't notice John as he wanted to enter the kitchen with a happy "Good Morning, boys" on his lips. Dean's father pulled back instantly, taking the other direction – no matter how bad he needed a coffee. No matter how hungry he was.

Half an hour later the breakfast was heated up again and served in the dining-room.

Thomas sat on the very end of the table, shooting confused glances at the human and Dean. Something in the chemistry of their scents had changed. Everyone sensed it – everyone at the table KNEW it.

Sam sat like always – eyes downcast – at the table, picking at the scrambled eggs and some stripes of bacon, while the others enjoyed their meat.

"That's one hell of a breakfast, Sam", Bobby looked at him with a mouth full of steak. "That's amazing. - What did you put on the steaks?"

Sam stole a glance at the gruff man as his cheeks blushed. "Salt, Sir."

Dean knew what Bobby tried. He wanted to loosen the situation. Wanted to lure Sam out. Wanted to make him look up and get into eye-contact with him and the others as well – not just with Dean.

Bobby nodded. - This had been slightly embarrassing.

Sam saw Ash shift on the chair beside him from the corners of his eyes, reaching into the pocket of his vest and pulling out an "Oh Henry" bar under the table. He then sneaked it into the pocket of Sam's sweater-vest.

A grin flashed over Sam's face as he realized what Ash was doing and nudged him in the side carefully. Ash grinned at him and stuffed a chunk of meat into his mouth, chewing it with a low growl.

"Better than Bobby's anyway. - He's using too much pepper ...", Ash said as he had swallowed.

Bobby groaned disapproving at Ash.

Ash gave a silent whine as the older wolf's boot connected with his shin.

John chuckled, his look swiping back at Sam. "You should've made some pancakes or waffles for yourself. - I know you aren't so much into scrambled eggs ..."

Sam glanced up blinking at the older Winchester. "I don't know how ..."

John smiled back at him. "I'm showing ya' tomorrow, okay?"

Sam nodded with a small smile.

"Me and Caleb are taking a walk on the yard later. - We're checking the surroundings. Wanna join us?", Ash asked and nudged Sam in the side.

The human's head snapped up, catching Ash's bright blue eyes looking at him.

"No way. He's staying inside. - No strolling around.", Dean said firmly, placing his hand on Sam's thigh. "We've no clue if there's someone out there."

Caleb rolled his eyes. Ash sighed deeply.

"We're two. - We're not leaving him out of our sight.", Caleb assured the green-eyed man opposite of him.

Sam looked pleadingly at his mate with giant puppy-dog-eyes.

Dean thought. Thought for a long time. He sensed that Sam wanted to go outside. He knew it'd be good for him. - Spending time with someone else but him. But there ws still overwhelming concern. Worry that Sam would get hurt when he wasn't under his watch.

Dean's look darted between Bobby and John who were looking back at him.

Bobby saying with a reassuring look: Let go.

And his father telling him: Trust us.

... to be continued

you guys know, that if i'm not getting my regulary pile of bacon, that i'm gonna starve right? RIGHT? RIGHT?

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