sketchydean

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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time


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Fic: Lion Lay Down With Me (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 2 of 4

Back to Masterpost  ~*~ Part 1

Finally they were interrupted by the kitchen boy bringing in the bath water together with Filou.  They poured it into a large copper tub set in front of the fire which they also stoked up higher. Filou left some neatly folded clothes with a wooden comb on top of several towels on the chair nearest the tub and left without a word.

“Would you rather if I helped you to bathe? Or would you like me to call Filou back?” Dean asked, standing up and brushing the bread crumbs from his lap.

Samuel was distracted by watching as Dean’s hands moved over his own body and shook himself out of it. Then he realized Dean was asking about the bath and he remembered why it might be an issue besides his injured ankle. “I…I haven’t had a bath like this before. We always just bathed in the river.”

“Oh, well it’s just like that, but warmer and without the sand and fish and slimy stuff at the bottom stuck on the sharp rocks that hurt your bare feet, come let me help you.”

Samuel smiled at that description and nodded yes.

Dean reached over and lifted Samuel up off the bed and carried him across the room, and set him down gently so that he could hold onto the fireplace mantel. “First we’ll take off these torn and dirty clothes and then get you into the warm water. Then I will comb the leaves out of your hair and we’ll wash it with the soap.”

Samuel just nodded, suddenly ashamed to be disrobing in front of this fine nobleman, surely his body would be unsightly to him. And he was even more ashamed at wanting it to be the opposite.  He pulled his jerkin and tunic off first, then chanced a quick look at Dean. He had the same expression on his face as he’d had at the river when he’d told Samuel that he was beautiful. The light of the fire flickered over the planes of Dean’s face and Samuel remembered that he’d also told Dean the same thing.  That somehow made this better, gave him courage to disrobe the rest of the way, the torn-up leggings coming off, except for over his non-injured foot.

“I cannot do this part myself,” Samuel finally admitted.

“Oh, of course, let me,” Dean said as one coming out of a trance, bending down to assist Samuel. “Here, brace yourself on me and lift up your foot, I’ll pull it off.”  Samuel’s hand grasped at his shoulder, and Dean bore his weight for a moment, the closeness to all that naked skin exhilarating. He pulled off the stocking and held Samuel steady as he arose to stand in front of him. “Alright now, into the water with you.” He lifted Samuel quickly into the tub of steaming flower scented water.

Samuel made a strange squeaking sound, his eyes shut tight in fear.

“Samuel, are you alright in there? Is it too hot?” Dean asked with worry in his voice, his hands instinctively going to Samuel’s shoulders to hold him steady.

Samuel craned his neck back, looking at Dean upside-down, standing behind him, beautiful even from this strange angle, and smiled at the feel of Dean’s hands on his now wet shoulders. “No. It’s not what I expected. The warmth is nice.”

Dean patted Samuel’s shoulders and sat back on his heels, grabbing the comb off the chair.  “Lie back and relax, I’ll comb your hair out for you.”

Samuel leaned his head against the edge of the high tub and valiantly tried not to purr as Dean worked the comb and his fingers through his very unruly long hair.  The tugs and pulls at his scalp were the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet, he felt himself drifting away on a rose-scented warm cloud.

“Now to wash that mop of yours, dunk your head in the water,” Dean said, pushing Samuel’s head gently down under the water,then pulling him back up after a moment. He reached for the bar of soap and lathered his hands up, and then ran them through Samuel’s hair several times, paying a lot of attention to scratching thoroughly at his scalp.

The purring could no longer be contained at the scalp scratching, the noise that came out of Samuel surprised them both into laughter.  “You sounded like one of the barn cats there for a moment,” Dean laughed his breath brushing teasingly against the back of Samuel’s wet neck.

“I did, didn’t I? I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite like that,” Samuel admitted.

“Okay, done, now dunk again to rinse off the soap,” Dean said, pushing at the top of Samuel’s head. He slowly sank under the water and Dean ran his hands through Samuel’s floating hair one last time. Instantly regretting the moment his hands were off of his new friend, but containing himself enough to rise and dry his hands on a towel.  “I’ll leave you to enjoy the warm water and wash yourself, call me when the water cools and I’ll help you out of the tub.”

“Thank you again Dean. For everything,” Samuel said. He smiled as he sank back into the tub, submerging himself up to his nose again, so that he couldn’t make any more potentially embarrassing noises.

“You are welcome Samuel, it is my pleasure,” Dean said, exiting the room as quickly as he could manage.  He leaned against the closed door separating their rooms and thunked his head against the wood.  His whole body thrummed with the desire awakened by having held Samuel’s beautiful naked body in the brief moments it took to deposit him in the bath tub.  His hands clenched and opened rhythmically as he remembered the feeling of all that glorious hair entwined around his fingers, swaying in the warm bathwater like so much swaying riverweed.

The man was everything Dean truly wanted and never let himself have, not since his father had passed, and not more than a few times before that. He’d always held his desires in check, not letting them near the surface where they could trouble his image and standing. But this Samuel, this man was upsetting all of that control and balance. Dean had only known him for one brief, though dramatic day, but he felt ready to rearrange his life to accommodate Samuel. To make a place for him, just to have the chance to be near him for a little while longer.  Dean breathed steadily in and out, calming himself, regaining control, until he heard Samuel call out, “Dean?”

“Are you ready to get out Samuel?” Dean asked, re-entering the room with no noise so that he could approach the tub and look his fill of a naked, wet Samuel standing in the tub, facing towards the fireplace, lit only by firelight.  Dean’s eyes traced slowly up and down the fine body, memorizing the shape and definition of his perfectly muscled back, the curve and imagined heft of his ass.

Samuel turned to face Dean when he heard his host’s voice, “Yes, I’m not sure I can without some assistance. I wouldn’t want to knock this tub over and flood the room,” Samuel said, talking quickly to fill up the space between them which was becoming strange and volatile.

Dean couldn’t speak, not with seeing the front of Samuel, in all his perfection, the expansive chest that looked built to withstand anything, and the rippling muscles of his stomach, individually highlighted with droplets of water, leading his eye to Samuel’s manhood, partially erect, but already so sizeable his mind went abuzz further imagining all the things he could do with him.  He forcibly ripped his gaze away from Samuel, knowing he had gone too far already and tipped his hand, likely made his guest feel even more uncomfortable. He spent more time than necessary gathering up the towels that Filou had left on the chair before turning back towards Samuel.

He wrapped Samuel in the largest towel and then lifted him out of the bath, standing him next to the fireplace where he could be warmest. He still had no words, being this close to Samuel, he wordlessly placed the smaller towel on Samuel’s head and dried his hair as gently as he could. He found that he liked the sensation of having to reach up so high to reach the top of Samuel’s head. Then Dean just stood there watching as Samuel dried his body with the towel, dropping it to the floor, balancing on one foot.

“Are those clothes meant for me?” Samuel finally asked, just to break the silence that had finally gone from uncomfortable to weird.

“Uh, yes, sorry, here, let me help you with the pants,” Dean knelt at Samuel’s feet and held the pant leg out for him to step into as Samuel balanced his weight on Dean’s shoulder and the mantle.

Samuel said nothing as he pulled the pants up and fastened them as Dean remained at his feet with his head bowed. Finally he touched the top of Dean’s head, “Are you alright Dean?” he asked curious as to why his host was behaving so strangely.

Dean looked up at him in surprise, at the question or at the touch, or both perhaps. “Yes, I’m fine, let’s get you to bed now, you need to stay off of that foot.”

He smiled to reassure Samuel, or perhaps himself and slowly arose back to standing. He scooped the now fully dressed Samuel up in his arms and walked slowly across the room towards the bed. He hesitated a moment longer than truly necessary before laying him gently down and rearranging the pillows. His hands lingered as he smoothed the bedclothes down over Samuel’s body.

Finally Samuel stilled Dean’s nervously moving hands by grasping both of them. “Thank you for the bath Dean. I almost feel myself again.”

“Uh, I’m glad, that’s good, I’ll just leave you to rest until dinner,” Dean said, standing up abruptly, poised to leave.

“I wouldn’t mind some company, I have a tendency to get bored if I have to lie around too much,” Samuel said with a grin, guessing that Dean would take the excuse he was offering.

“Well, of course, I could read to you,” Dean offered, marveling at how the smile Samuel was giving him changed his whole face into something even more indescribably beautiful. Maybe he wouldn’t make too much of a fool of himself if he was looking at the book that he would be reading instead of making lovesick moon-eyes at this man.  He pulled over one of the overstuffed chairs to be nearer to the bedside and chose one of the books from the shelf. “I think you’ll enjoy this one, it is a collection of folk tales.”

“Just nothing with witches in it okay?” Samuel asked in a voice filled with weariness.

“Of course, fairies or trolls only,” Dean said before beginning to read out loud.

Samuel felt himself settle deeper into the bed as Dean’s voice washed over him. It seemed so familiar somehow, as if they’d done it a hundred times before. The silly notion passed quickly and made Samuel smile to himself, because of course it could not possibly be true, but he settled into the comfortable familiarity without caring any longer where it came from. He was with Dean, and he felt safe once again. He fell asleep while being mesmerized watching this beautiful man’s face, all the expressions that crossed his visage as he read, each one being catalogued and remembered. Samuel’s eyes reluctantly closed but still, all he could see and feel was Dean.

Dean read for a while longer before realizing that Samuel has drifted off to sleep with a beatific smile on his face. He closed his book and relaxed a little more knowing that he wasn’t being watched so closely. Now it was his turn to watch his guest drift deeper into sleep, all the pain faded from Samuel’s face as he relaxed deeper into sleep. He found his mind straying to all the times they had touched today, and how each time the tingle of their contact had struck something so familiar, so deep within himself. Taking care of Samuel, guarding him, reading to him, and even bathing him had seemed like things he’d been practicing his whole life. But how could that be?

“Samuel, wake up Samuel, please,” Dean pleaded, wanting to put a stop to the man’s terror as he held his shaking body close to his own. Samuel’s loud screams of “No! Dean, no!” still ringing in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

Finally Samuel awakened, still dazed, then was instantly embarrassed for having awoken Dean.

“Was that a vision that you were experiencing?” Dean asked, gently stroking Samuel’s hair while he searched his face for clues to how to help this man.

Before Samuel could answer Dean, he knew that he had a choice to make. According to the vision that still lingered at the edges of his mind, Dean’s life was at stake. To Samuel his vision was proof of that, Dean would die a fiery, bloody death. But in it, Roy the witch hunter and Lord Martigny also would die.

He knew that he could say nothing here. Could let fate roll past and take this beautiful, brave man away from him. He would be avenging the loss of his home and his father and all he’d known in one fell swoop by letting his vision come to pass. But he would be losing the only living person who had ever seen him at his worst and not run away in fear. For Dean had just seen the real him and was still there, holding him. The look on Dean’s face was what made his decision for him, no one had ever looked at him with that intensity and acceptance.

“Yes, it was. It was a vision of your death, Dean. You were being torn apart by dogs that the witch hunters had set upon you. They were laughing, there were flames, all around you, but then Roy the witch hunter was caught up in them as well as Lord Martigny. All of you died. The dogs howling as they burned. It was terrible,” Samuel finished with a muffled sob, burying his face in his Dean’s night shirt.

Dean just held him for a while, gently moving one hand in massaging circles on Samuel’s upper back. Finally he interrupted the silence, “You’re sure this wasn’t just a nightmare though?”

“No Dean. It was not. They’re very different, my mouth tastes of copper when I come out of one. Like there should be blood but there isn’t. And that is what I’m tasting now.”

Dean released him and settled him back against the pillows, reaching to the table for a glass of wine. “Here, some watered wine to wash the taste out. Your vision will not come to pass Samuel. We are safe here. Try to go back to sleep.”

Samuel drained the glass to stall for time, hoping that he could calm himself enough to ever sleep again. “Can you stay here Dean? I am loathe to admit that I am frightened, but seeing you torn apart like that, watching you die was, well, it was heart-rending.”

“Of course Samuel,” Dean said, his own heart feeling rent at the sadness he heard in Samuel’s voice. He laid down alongside him on top of the duvet and placed his hand on Samuel’s chest, over his heart. It was still thumping in rapid terror speed.  “Your heart has not calmed.”

“No, it will take a while. Would you speak to me of other things, please Dean,” Samuel asked.

Dean thought for a while as he rubbed his hand in a slow steady circle over Samuel’s heart, and then began to tell a story of the first archery tournament he had entered with his father and how they’d almost beaten the reigning champion father and son team.  Samuel had fallen back asleep before Dean had reached the end of the tale, but Dean did not get up and go back to his bed. He chose to stay there beside Samuel, hand still in place feeling the steady slowing heartbeat under his palm. Dean drifted off to sleep himself, his own heart becoming attuned to the rhythm of his new friend’s.

Over the next few days, which were thankfully free of visions, Sam talked wistfully about his horse, Émeute, wishing he could ride her instead of the mount Dean provided for their easy-going rides through the forest while Samuel recuperated.  “It is not that I do not enjoy riding Grand Frère, he is a wonderful horse, and you are most generous to allow me the use of him while I recuperate.  It is just that I miss my Émeute, she was mine from the day she was born. In a way she was my best friend.”

This conversation and the wistful sadness prompted Dean to send a messenger to quietly contact the people remaining in Samuel’s village. The messenger was lucky to quickly find a former neighbor who’d worked for the family, a small landholder named Joshua who had captured and kept Émeute in the hope that Samuel would return at some point. Joshua had been persuaded by the messenger to journey to Dean’s home to surprise Samuel in a few days. Those days waiting for Joshua’s arrival were some of the best in Dean’s recent memory.  When they were not taking short rides around Dean’s land, the two spent almost all their time together in Dean’s comfortable rooms, either deep in conversation or just sitting side by side reading.

Finally the day arrived, and Dean awakened early, the anticipation of the surprise buzzing in his veins. “Samuel, I believe you may want to arise a little early this morn, I’ve brought you a tray.”

“Why thank you very much, you are too kind Dean.  And why would I need to be up this early?”

“There is a surprise arriving and I want you to be downstairs to see its approach up the hill,” Dean answered as he made a quick exit out of Samuel’s room.  And when did it become Samuel’s room he asked himself, and answered with a wry smile, the very moment he arrived.

Samuel made quick work of the breakfast tray and attempted to carry it himself as he crutched his way slowly down the stairs, it fell when he was about halfway down with a terrible clanging.  Dean’s worried face appeared at the kitchen door below, “Are you quite alright Samuel? I thought you had fallen down these stairs!”

“No, no just attempting to make myself useful by bringing down the tray, and now I’ve ruined everything. The rug, the dishes all broken. I’ll just go back up where I won’t ruin everything.”

“Stop right there, it was solely an accident that none could blame you for. You haven’t ruined a thing. Please make your way down here, and rest in the parlor. You are halfway here already, and I want you to see this surprise.”

“Maybe I was hurrying a little bit because I am intrigued by your talk of a surprise.”

“Oh so it is my fault now, I see,” Dean said in a teasing voice.

“I thought there was no blame to be had,” Samuel mock protested.

“I was just attempting to…oh devil take it. I give up,” Dean threw up his hands and turned to leave.

“Dean, please, come back, I was just teasing,” Samuel pleaded as Dean stomped out of the parlor towards the kitchen.  He sat uneasily on the chair, wondering if he’d ruined the surprise as well as the breakfast dishes.

“Lord Dean tells me you’ve decided to redecorate the front hall Samuel,” Filou said as he breezed into view carrying a broom and pan.

“I am so sorry Filou, I was trying to be helpful and I made more work for you I’m afraid.”

“Not a problem, I was meant to sweep the front hall this week at some point anyways, it’s just a little crunchier than usual,” Filou answered with a smile, beginning to clean up the shattered crockery.

“Is he very angry with me?” Samuel asked.

“Who? Lord Dean? No, I do not believe so. He is much too excited about your surprise this morning,” Filou answered, flicking his always mischievous eyes to the front door.

“Is it time for me to go outside and look?” Samuel asked, sounding like an excited schoolboy.

“I do believe so, he wants you out on the front steps. Can you make it with your crutch, or do you need an arm?”

“Let me try myself first,” Samuel said, moving slowly across the entry hall with his crutch.

“You are a stubborn one are you not? Never want to let anyone help you, ever. One would think you had an older brother the way you act,” Filou observed.

“I always wished that I had,” Samuel mused, thinking of all the times he’d said that very thing to his father.

They stopped their conversation about imaginary older siblings when they heard Dean’s footsteps approaching from the kitchen gardens, he arrived on the bottom step and looked up at Samuel, holding a bunch of carrots in his hand, covered in dirt. Bright orange with feathery green leaf tops still attached.

“What are the carrots for?” Samuel asked after a few awkward moments of silence where he debated apologizing again and then talked himself out of it for fear of upsetting Dean again.

“You will soon see, be patient,” Dean answered, with a face schooled into passive non-expression.

“Are you angry with me Dean?” Samuel asked, shifting his weight to lean a little more on the hand he had on Dean’s shoulder than his crutch.

Dean turned his head and looked up at Samuel for a long moment, examining the big eyes, and the worried expression complete with a line between his eyebrows. He finally answered him with a grin, “No Samuel, no I am most definitely not angry with you. I was only frustrated that you did not understand my attempt at levity earlier.”

Before Samuel could explain that he was joking also, there was the sound of an animal in the distance, maybe two, some jingling of harness and clopping of hooves. Samuel stood balanced on his one good foot and the crutch and lifted his other hand from Dean’s shoulder to shade his eyes against the strong morning sun. A distant rider appeared at the bottom of the hill, with another riderless horse following close behind.

“Who is it Dean? Someone I need to hide from?”

“Samuel, why would I ask you to stand out here if I thought it unsafe? Of course not. It is someone I do believe you will be most delighted to see.”

The rider made his way up the steep road, picking his way over the wagon ruts with care, the trailing horse moving even more elegantly than the first. “That second horse moves so beautifully,” Samuel said with a sigh.

“Does she remind you of a horse in particular Samuel?”

Samuel watched the horse approach even closer and then gasped in happy surprise, “Yes, she moves just like my… Émeute? How is it? And that’s Joshua! How could they be here?”

“I had them found for you, I thought you could stand to see a friendly face,” Dean said smiling widely at Samuel’s reaction.

“Ho there, Lord Villeneuve! And my Samuel, there you are!” Joshua shouted as he got within hearing distance.

“Ah, I want to run to them, but I cannot,” Samuel said, hopping a little in his frustration.

“Here, let me help you down the stairs at least, they will come to you,” Dean offered, taking Samuel’s elbow and helping him down the slick stone steps.

“Welcome Joshua, and Émeute of course,” Dean said, coming forward to shake Joshua’s hand, “Sir, I thank you for making this long trip, it is good to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours Lord Villeneuve, I am delighted to be here and to see that you have taken such good care of Samuel.”

“Joshua, I never thought I would see you again,” Samuel said as he hugged Joshua with a desperate fierceness. “And you brought me Émeute, how did you even manage to find her? I set her loose when I had to run from the witch hunters.”

“She came home within a day of your leaving, young sir, and as the house was no longer there, she was nosing at my barn gate in the morning.”

“How can I ever repay you? She means the world to me,” Samuel said, holding onto Joshua’s shoulders and smiling down at the man.

Joshua reached up and patted both of Samuel’s cheeks, “I know Samuel, I know. Your joy is payment enough.”

“Would you like to ride her later this day after she’s had a few oats and a rest?” Dean asked, as he fed the bunch of carrots to a very happy Émeute.

“Yes, oh very much yes. Will Pala mind riding with her?”

“Why, because she’s a beautiful mare? No Samuel, Pala can control himself for an afternoon I believe. Joshua, please come inside and rest yourself after your long journey,” Dean said, gesturing towards the front door and re-taking his place at Samuel’s elbow.  “Allow me?” he asked.

Samuel smiled, because Dean was asking to help him, instead of just assuming he was helpless all the time. He linked his arm through Dean’s and pulled himself closer so that their hips bumped. “Thank you for your help Dean.”

Joshua seated himself in the main room at Dean’s insistence, and called for Filou to bring them some refreshments.

Samuel examined the deeply creased face of his old friend, seeing his tiredness and worry, “Joshua, tell me what has happened in our town since I fled. Have the witch hunters returned?”

Joshua saw Samuel’s worry and he smiled back at his friend, eyes twinkling as they always had, “It has been a nightmare, most people are keeping to themselves, but yes the witch hunters returned and prowled through all of your neighbor’s lands searching for you.  They were mightily disappointed to not find you. You did a splendid job of disappearing Samuel. Your father would have been very proud.”

“It was not easy. And I would not be alive were it not for Dean, uh, I mean Lord Villeneuve.”

“Joshua, when you made your way through my lands, were the witch hunters nearby at all?” Dean asked.

“No Lord Villeneuve, no one saw me make my way here,” answered Joshua.

“You are quite sure?” Dean asked with more intensity that he meant to show.

“Yes, as I said before, the witch hunters have the countryside in an uproar and most gentlefolk seem to be keeping to their own holdings. But they were nowhere to be seen as I traveled here. You have my word sir,” Joshua said, realizing that the Lord seemed to care quite a lot for Samuel.

“Lord Villeneuve, why do you ask?” Samuel asked.

“Samuel, if they were to find you here, I would not necessarily be able to protect you. Especially if they were to raise a mob of some kind to follow them. But it sounds as if that is not likely.”

“I will return home under cover of night then, just to be safe,” Joshua said, nodding in agreement at Dean’s statement.

Samuel went quiet then, obviously pondering Dean’s observations in earnest. Joshua and Dean conversed about horses for a bit and then Dean suddenly arose, “Well, Samuel, would you like to take that ride now?”

Samuel shook his head to break himself out of his clouded thinking and carefully stood up smiling, “Yes I would, very much.”

“Joshua will you be joining us?” Dean asked.

“No kind sir, if it would not be too much of an imposition, I should like to stay here and rest for my return journey this evening.”

“Very well, ring for Filou if you require anything at all. We shall return in a few hours,” Dean said as he steered Samuel out the front door, easily assisting him as if it were a long-established routine.

“Oh, the horses are already here,” Samuel said in surprise.

“I guess Filou has been busy, and it seems he has packed us some provisions as well, what I would do without him, I can’t imagine,” Dean said, helping Samuel to his horse.

“Now how am I going to do this Dean?”

Dean made Émeute stand next to the steps where he stood with Samuel, who he suddenly lifted around the waist and set side saddle on her back.  Émeute stood steady as Dean assisted Samuel to move his injured leg until it was comfortably in the stirrups.

“Are you alright up there?” Dean asked, looking up and up and up at Samuel happily seated on Émeute’s back, noticing Samuel’s beautiful hair outlined in the sun, his smile seeming even wider than usual.

Samuel boldly reached down to touch Dean’s cheek softly, “Yes Dean, thanks to you.”

Samuel’s fingertips seemed to hold the warmth from the brief touch to Dean’s skin. His sides still tingling from Dean’s grasp, his body remembering again being held close when he was hurt, and being cleaned in the bath. All of Dean’s soft touches had added up and this was his start to repaying them the only way he could.

Dean leaned slightly into Samuel’s touch, he couldn’t help himself and he could see how much it seemed to mean to Samuel also. The side of his face warmed, lifting his spirits when he felt the connection they seemed to be making. He said nothing as he mounted his Pala, and set off towards the easier trail through the hills near his home.  Dean knew without asking that Samuel would rather go up the mountain, but it wasn’t possible yet with his injury. They rode in silence for a while, side by side, looking at each other occasionally, smiling briefly. The easy companionship between them felt simple and easy, like a lifetime’s worth.

“Someday I would like to take you up to the top of my mountain,” Dean said, pointing up the peak far behind his home.

“I would love that Dean,” Samuel answered, thinking about all that statement might possibly entail, some sort of future, some expectation that he might stay here with Dean past just healing from his injury. His brain went into overdrive, thinking about all the possibilities and what Dean might expect from him and he began to frown. How could he possibly have anything to offer this man who seemed to have everything?

“Is something the matter Samuel? You are frowning,” Dean finally asked.

“Could we stop near some water soon? I think Émeute would like a drink, and I need to rest my ankle from the pressure,” Samuel said in lieu of actually answering the question.

Dean heard Samuel’s non-answer and went quiet, and led them towards a path that curved through a meadow and a copse of closely growing pines. Eventually, they came into a willow grove that surrounded a sparkling pond.

Onto Part 3


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