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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

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Fic: Shadow In The City (Sam/Dean, NC-17) 1 of 4

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“When was the last case we had in a big city like this?” Dean asks, as he guides them up 10th Avenue through Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan.

Sam looks up from the case file notebook that he’s been working on for the last hour. Even though he hasn’t heard a peep out of him since they got in the car in Newark, Dean knows that Sam hasn’t been ignoring him. Sam always has to read something when they’re in city traffic, otherwise he freaks out about every car coming at them. “That one we worked with that Ennis kid and the monster families in Chicago I think. Glad this one worked out so we could actually finish it.” Sam says in a voice that sounds a little sleepy, and definitely a little preoccupied.

“Yeah, I thought it’d been awhile. God I hope we can find somewhere safe to park,” Dean says, peering out the windshield left and right, searching for the rarest of unicorns, an available street space.

“Worrying about your baby huh?” Sam asks, folding a knee up under his butt and turning towards Dean.

“Yeah, course I am, there’s a lot of shit that can happen to a car like this in a city,” Dean says. “Remember what happened in Chicago, the two flats we got. Or that we were given. Assholes.”

Sam leans in and pats him on the shoulder. “We’ll find somewhere, don’t worry. I’m sure we still have some good parking karma left.”

Dean scoffs at the idea of parking karma, but as he drives into the crowded, narrow streets of the city, within a block of searching for a spot, he finds a perfect one, just as an old rust-bucket mid-1980’s Chevy Caprice pulls out in a cloud of burning oil. The space is under a tree, so the birds will probably crap on his baby, but at least the street is a little wider here, not as many businesses with double-parking delivery trucks and taxis trying to squeak through. They get out and stretch, in an almost choreographed display of unfolding their cramped, over six foot bodies.

Dean watches Sam over the roof of the car to see if he’s still babying his left shoulder that he claims is good as new. Once they meet up at the trunk, Dean reaches
over and gently massages at the top of Sam’s shoulder. “Still bad huh?”

“Yeah, sitting all that time didn’t help,” Sam admits, going a little limp under Dean’s hands.

“Well, being in the city in the summertime will. You’ll stay warm, muscles can heal up, and we won’t be running around with big weapons, at least for a while yet.”

“I guess that’s something. What’s got you lookin’ on the bright side today anyways?” Sam asks as he pulls out his backpack, checking the pockets for the usual weaponry he carries.

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know, just happy we got to do a city hunt for a change. It’s more of a challenge for us, staying hidden from the civvies. Plus, I got to drive through the Lincoln Tunnel.”

“Was that on your bucket list or something?”

“Shut up. I just always wanted to ‘cause of that Stallone movie, where they’re trapped. Later we’re driving through the Queen’s Midtown tunnel, which is the one from
Men in Black. Remember, when they’re driving upside-down?”

“I can never get over how much of a movie geek my brother is.”


 “So, uh where are we going anyways?” Sam asks after they’ve been walking for fifteen minutes up 10th Avenue.

“Oh, just heading up to the park,” Dean answers with a studied casualness to his tone.

Sam studies him sideways as they keep walking. “As in Central Park?”

Dean nods and doesn’t say anything.

Sam’s about to comment on this little side-trip that isn’t at all related to the case they just closed. And is likely only being made to satisfy more movie location geeking-out on Dean’s part. But those words aren’t necessary. No more words are, when there’s just the surprising feeling of Dean taking his hand like it’s no big deal. Walking along bumping hips, holding hands. Sam wants to say something, that’s his normal thing, to comment, to voice the observation. But something makes him stop. Maybe it’s the way that Dean’s shoulders are finally relaxed after months of the tension being so visibly obvious. But that’s gone now, his shoulders are normal, substantial and strong, but not held tight against whatever’s coming next. Sam squeezes Dean’s hand lightly, just to say something, and smiles when Dean looks up at him. Dean returns the smile, eyes twinkling at Sam’s nonverbal comment.

They cross over the midday madness of Columbus Circle to the corner entrance of the park, and Dean yanks on Sam to make him stop at the hot dog cart. “Look! Four for the price of two Sammy. You wanna?”

Pretty much the last thing he wants is a street vendor hot dog because who knows what the hell is in those anyways, but at the open, excited look on Dean’s face, he can’t do anything other than give in. “I’m not that hungry, I think I could eat one though.”

Dean grins and orders their dogs, putting the works on each and every one. “Let’s go find a place to sit and eat these.”

They head a little further into the park and come out onto the edge of a large expanse of lawn, they’re a bit higher up than the rest of it, so they sit on the edge of all the activity down below, partially shaded by the moving leaves of the trees up above. Sam eats his one hot dog, savoring the salt and grease, but enjoys even more watching Dean inhale all three of his, one after the other, the satisfied smile never leaving his lips, even when they’re covered in mustard and ketchup.  Sam leans over to lick it off, once Dean’s finally done chewing. A little hum of contentment comes from both of them, rising up into a near moan as the lick turns into a kiss. Sam presses Dean back until he’s lying in the grass, devouring the taste of summer in the city off of his brother’s lips.

Just when Sam’s about to suggest they get up and find someplace a little more private, he gets hit in the back of the head with something. He sits up in surprise and finds that it’s a bright purple Frisbee. Picking it up as he stands looking for its owner, he spies a little girl with red hair in pigtails bounding towards him waving her arms like crazy.  “Sorry mister!”

Sam grips the Frisbee in throwing position and launches it smoothly back to her.  She fumbles the catch but picks it up quickly. “Good throw! Here, catch!” She sends it back up the small hill to him, he has to run a little to catch her not entirely accurate throw, spinning in the air as he jumps to catch it, and launching it back to her as he lands back down. She catches it this time and does a victory dance, her purple dress swirling around her knees.  Sam claps and laughs at her contagious joy. Then he hears Dean laughing behind him.  He shades his eyes and looks back up at his brother, sprawled out from where he’d just kissed him down into the grass, propped up on his elbows watching him intently, a matching look of joy on his face. “Not bad Sammy!”

The girl has run up to Sam and wraps her arms around his legs, looking up at him with intense blue eyes. “Come play with me, please mister! You’re so much better than my mom.”  Sam looks down at her and suddenly worries that some angry mother is going to come freak out that her little girl is wrapped around a giant stranger. “Where is your mom, darlin’?”

“She’s over there,” the girl points about fifty feet away to where there’s a woman with red curly hair sitting on a checkered picnic blanket bouncing a baby on her lap.

The woman waves at the both of them, and Sam can see her hesitant smile.  “That your brother or sister she’s got?” Sam asks the girl.

“Yeah, that’s my Macky,” she says proudly, and with a note of possession unusual in a kid her age.

Your Macky huh? Well come on introduce me and we’ll see if your mom says it’s okay for me to throw this around with you,” Sam says.

The girl puts her hand in his and tugs him over towards her mom, “I’m Sarie by the way.”

“Hi Sarie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sam.”

“Is that your boyfriend? Does he wanna play too?” Sarie asks, pointing back up the little hill towards Dean.

Sam pauses before answering, that’s one question that always merits a long pause. Does he claim Dean as a brother or admit that boyfriend fits also? Even from this distance he sees Dean’s amused, looking at him with this little girl. That decides him. “Yeah, he is. But no, I don’t think he’s ever tried Frisbee before.”

“Well that’s stupid, I’m gonna go ask him. What’s his name?” Sarie asks.

“Dean, his name’s Dean.”

She drops Sam’s hand and runs the small distance back up towards Dean, who Sam can see his eyes widen in surprise.  “Hey Dean, you gotta come play with us. Sam says so,” Sarie says, with her hands on her hips like she means business.

Dean throws his head back and laughs, that full body laugh that never fails to break Sam’s heart in two and mend it back bigger than it was. He gets up and joins her. “Okay, kiddo. What’re we playing?”

“Frisbee!” She yells and throws it hard over in the general direction where Sam is grinning like the love-struck fool that he always will be.  It almost gets away from him, because he’s so entranced with seeing his brother come towards him grinning that devil may care grin that’s been missing, but he spins and takes two long steps to come up with it. He flicks it back towards Dean, not sure whether it’ll be caught or not, but they’re so in-sync, just like always, of course it is. Dean catches it easily and sends it floating back over to Sam.  They get within speaking distance. “I didn’t know you could throw a Frisbee, Dean.”

“Course I can. So who’s your friend, Sam?” Dean asks, that grin looking even better close up.

“Oh this is Sarie, we’re gonna go ask her mom if we can play or not,” Sam answers with a return smile.

“Good idea, Sarie lead the way,” Dean says with a smile and a quick wink.

They each hold one of her hands, picking her up slightly every third step or so. Sam’s holding the Frisbee in his left hand to spare his shoulder the weight of swinging Sarie.

“Hey, this isn’t gonna mess up your shoulder even more, right?” asks Dean over the top of Sarie’s shiny red curls.

“Naw, I’m throwing righty. Should be fine as long as I don’t make any diving catches,” Sam says, again surprised that Dean’s expressing so much concern about his shoulder.

“Well don’t, you’re gonna need both of your arms tonight,” Dean says.

Sam doesn’t answer beyond shooting Dean a lopsided grin and a waggle of one eyebrow over Sarie’s head between them.

Sarie’s mom is standing up now looking a little more concerned now that her little girl is flanked by these two enormous strangers, holding their hands and looking so happy. But she relaxes as they get closer and she can see the expressions on the men’s faces.  She shifts the baby up on her hip a little higher and calls out, “Sarie Marie are you bothering these guys?”

Sarie drops their hands and runs towards her mom shrieking, “Macky! Macky! You finally woke up!” The   baby stops looking up at her mom and turns towards her sister, matching blue eyes crinkling in delight, she reaches out making the gimme gimme signal with both hands almost falling out of her mom’s arms.  Sarie holds out her little arms and her mom deposits the squirming baby into her sister’s grasp. Sarie buries her face in Macky’s neck and kisses her with a loud smack, smoothing back the fuzzy red curls.  “See guys, this is my Macky.”

Sam and Dean catch up and stop a few steps away from the blanket and the little family. They look at each other and something indefinable passes between them, some echo of the past making itself known to them both. They smile that yeah-I-know-just-what-you’re-thinking smile at each other and turn back to meet the rest of this family. “Your Macky huh?” Dean asks with a big grin, recognizing that big sibling preemptive ownership vibe that he obviously shares with Sarie.

“Yup, she’s allll mine. Because I’m her big sister.”

“Hi ma’am, I’m Sam, this is Dean.” Sam reaches over to shake hands with the surprised mother.

She shakes and laughs a little, she’s a beautiful youngish looking woman with the same blue eyes and curly red hair as her girls. “Hey guys, I’m Ann, and you’ve already met my girls. Sorry if Sarie was bugging you. I can’t play with her like I used to be able to.” Ann gestures at the baby toys and equipment taking up most of the space on the blanket.

“Not a problem. We don’t ever get to play enough Frisbee, right Dean?” Sam asks, gesturing with the purple Frisbee.

“Yeah Sammy, pretty much never do,” Dean answers.

“Sarie, you can’t play Frisbee if you’re holding Macky, give her back please?” Ann asks.

“Macky you gotta watch us okay? Sam’s really good at throwing, wait’ll you see how many I catch,” Sarie says, jiggling her sister a few times until she giggles.

Ann scoops the baby out of her sister’s arms.  “Sarie, just stick around so you can see me and I can see you.”

“’kay momma, I don’t wanna go too far so Macky can watch,” Sarie says with a nod.

“That’s my girl.  Thanks, you guys,” Ann says, smiling a wide smile that matches Macky’s.

“Oh it’s our pleasure, believe me,” Sam answers with a big smile.

They throw the Frisbee back and forth with each other and Sarie for at least a half hour, both getting sweaty from running down her off the beam throws.  Finally Ann calls them back over, offering some juice in small cups and cubes of cut-up watermelon. They accept it gratefully, they haven’t been out in the hot summer sun like this in quite a while.

“That was fun to watch. You guys are so synchronized. Are you dancers or something?” Ann asks, her blue eyes twinkling with happiness.

“Something like that, we’ve been partners for a long time. Know each other’s moves,” Dean answers, finishing off his juice and handing her the small plastic cup back.

“Ah, I see. Well, it was kind of beautiful, and you entertained my daughter, so thanks for both things.”

“We thoroughly enjoyed it, Ann, we’ve never thrown a Frisbee with each other, and we pretty much never get a chance to hang out with kids as awesome as Sarie,” Sam says, with real enthusiasm.

“I am awesome!” Sarie yells, this causes her sister to clap and burble excitedly.

“Guess your little sister agrees, kiddo,” Sam observes with a laugh.

“These two are what, four years apart?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, pretty much exactly, good eye,” Ann answers, sizing up Dean again with a more critical eye like she’s curious why he’s an expert on children.

“I just recognize the big sibling thing, I was the exact same way with my little brother,” Dean says.

“Really? You were like me, Dean?” Sarie asks.

“Yeah Sarie, I never stopped either, my little brother is still the most important person in my whole life, nothin’ makes me happier than making him happy,” Dean says.

“Cool, that’s gonna be me and Macky,” Sarie says with a solemn nod, like she’s making a binding vow.

“Sounds like Macky’s a lucky girl,” Sam says, smiling so widely he thinks his face might fall apart. He so completely remembers that feeling when he was her age. Convinced that he and Dean were all that mattered. “I bet she’ll love you just as much right back, Sarie.”

Sarie shakes her head, disagreeing with that completely adorable vehemence only four year olds can get away with. “No way, she couldn’t ever.”

“Why do you say that baby?” Ann asks her daughter.

“’cause she’s the one that’s a baby, silly momma,” Sarie says, dismissing everything with a shake of her head.

“Well she’s going to grow up honey, she’ll be as old as you are now before you know it,” Ann persists.

“But I’ll always be older,” Sarie insists with a stubborn look that crinkles up her face.

“Yeah, she’ll always be younger than you. But she’s going to learn to love you, by the example you give her. That’s how she’ll love you the same right back.  She just might show it differently than you do,” Sam says.

“But I’ll still be her big sister though?” Sarie asks, sounding very worried.

“That’ll never change, even though she might want it to at some point, I bet when you’re our age, you’ll be looking out for her just like you do today,” answers Dean.

“Cool! Momma, can we play some more Frisbee?” Sarie asks.

“If Sam and Dean want to, how about ten more minutes?” Ann asks, obviously hoping that they’ll be game to keep playing.

“You guys go ahead without me, my shoulder is starting to really hurt,” Sam says, lying down on the blanket with his hand over his eyes.

“Okay, little brother, we’ll go try to have fun anyways without you,” Dean says as he scoops up the Frisbee and Sarie’s hand.

After Dean and Sarie’s voices fade a little in the distance, Ann asks, “So he’s your big brother huh?”

“Uh, yeah. He is,” Sam answers, worried that the brother versus boyfriend label will become an issue. It gets so tiresome keeping track of who’s been told what. But it’s worth it, always has been.

“He’s great with Sarie, was he like that with you?” Ann asks, pushing her mid-length hair out of her face so she can see Sam. It’s not as curly as her daughter’s, he notices, but almost the same exact shade of red.

“Yeah, from what I remember, he was. He pretty much raised me. Our mom died when he was four and I was a baby, and our dad had a hard time carrying on with much parenting.”

Ann’s open gentle face creases in concern. “Oh I’m so sorry. Well, you’re lucky that you had him.”

“Yeah I know. He’s a bit much sometimes with the big brother thing though. I mean, you heard him just now? But I still love him more than anything,” Sam says, surprised at himself for opening up to this woman that he’s just met. But he never gets the chance to talk about Dean to anyone, not in this completely unrelated to hunting sort of way.

“I can tell. I hope my girls are like that when they’re older like you two. Still in each other’s lives, caring so much, still looking out for their sister.”

“It’s one of the best things. No. It is the best thing in my whole life. It really, really is, having a big brother like Dean, no matter the things he’s done for me that I don’t agree with, or didn’t want at the time. I know I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you without him having been there the whole time for me.”

Ann’s smile broadens as she takes in the emotion on Sam’s face. “He knows all that, right?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?” Sam asks.

She smoothes the wrinkles in her green cotton skirt for a moment. “Just, I know how guys can be sometimes, not sharing feelings and stuff. Especially with each other. At least that’s how my husband and his brother are. I just hope you’ve told him at some point what he means to you. Someone like Dean, who’s given for so long like you say he has might appreciate hearing what you just said.  I tell you, it made me happy for you both just hearing it.”

Sam considers her words for a long moment, deciding that she is telling him something he should already have known. “You’re right, we hardly ever say things like that to each other. Pretty much ever. But I’m sure he knows how I feel. Still, tell you what, since you made such a good case, I’ll give it a try tonight.”

Ann’s smile brightens at his promise. “Good Sam, I hope he hears what you say.”

“Me too. Doesn’t always work out like that, but I’ll give it a shot,” Sam says with real hope in his voice, because she’s right. He thinks to himself of course it’s important for Dean to know how much he means to me and I’m going to tell him whether he wants to hear it or not.

“What’re you givin’ a shot?” asks Dean, stopping a full run with Sarie on his back giggling in his ear.

“Tell ya later,” Sam answers, grinning up at his brother, who looks about ten years younger with the giggling girl on his back.  “You look really good with a kid on you, Dean.”

“Got enough practice with you, squirt,” Dean says, easy grin making his face even more beautiful.

“So fellas, we’ve gotta get going, time for afternoon N-A-P to happen,” Ann says with hesitance.

“Momma, I know what that means. You don’t have to spell it,” Sarie interrupts.

“Can’t fool you, can I?” Ann says, smiling over Sarie’s head at the brothers.

“Nope, but maybe you can still fool Macky!” Sarie answers.

“Hey Sarie, it was fun playing with you today, thanks for letting us throw your Frisbee,” Sam says, catching Ann’s silent plea to let them take off for nap time.

Sam stands up slowly, Dean helping him to rise when he sees him about to use his injured arm. Sarie just nods at Sam instead of answering, looking a little sad.

“Sarie, say thank you to Sam and Dean. Come on sweetheart, manners,” Ann reminds her daughter.

Sarie looks up at both of them, with sad eyes, “Bye Sam, bye Dean. Thank you for playing with me,” Sarie says with a trembling lip.

“Hey, Sarie, no tears now. We had fun didn’t we?” Dean says, rubbing her shoulder gently.

“But we’ll never ever see you again, ever ever,” Sarie cries, “and you’re the nicest boyfriends I ever met.”

Ann isn’t sure what to say to that, because Sarie has to be confused about what Dean and Sam are to each other. But she’s more interested in getting them moving back towards home before a big meltdown happens to think much more about it.

“Tell you what, we don’t live here in the city, but we’re here for one more day. I’ll give your mom our phone number, and she can call us if you come to the park tomorrow, and we’ll meet you. Okay?” Sam offers, ruffling Sarie’s slightly sweaty hair.  He pulls out one of their business cards and hands it over to Ann. “Hope that’s okay with you, Ann?”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds great. We’re usually here by noon, but I’ll call you if we’re skipping it for some reason, thanks Sam,” Ann says gratefully. He’s given her at least a one day respite from the inevitable breakdown. Sarie always has such a hard time saying goodbye to people that she clicks with. And these brothers certainly have made an impression, on all of them really. Even Macky is engaged, returning the goofy faces Dean and Sarie are making at her, while Sam smiles, watching them interact.

“See you tomorrow then,” Dean says, patting Sarie’s head and waving goodbye to Macky. He and Sam watch the little family trundle off up towards the walkway and head out of sight. “Making us playdates now, Sammy?” Dean teases.

“Didn’t you notice, Dean?”

“No. What?” Dean asks.

“The hoodoo sigils etched on the picnic basket and on the stroller,” Sam says, pointing at the spot where the girls and their mother just disappeared.

“Yeah, I saw those, so?” Dean asks with a shrug, starting to walk off in the opposite direction.

“And the way the sisters were together? I mean they had to be psychic at the very least,” Sam points out as he strides to catch up.

“Psychic sisters, and a little hoodoo. Again, so?” Dean asks.

“Shouldn’t we check this out a little? Doesn’t it seem like our kind of thing?” Sam insists, tugging at Dean’s elbow to take the right turn on the pathway.

“I guess, but what are we gonna do about it if they are? It’s not like we’re up for killing kids or anything,” Dean says in a loud stage-whisper so that the passers-by on the path won’t hear their conversation.

“No, of course not. Just, I think we should make sure that Ann is at least is aware,” Sam says.

“How could she not be if there were hoodoo sigils on their stuff? It’s not Sarie doing that at her age, it’s gotta be Ann,” Dean says.

“Maybe they have a sitter or housekeeper or something? I don’t know. I just want to check it out. Make sure the girls are going to be okay.”

Dean chuckles, “You’d think you were an older brother or something.”

“Guess I learned from the best,” Sam says.

“Damn right,” Dean says with a huge sarcastic smile, because he never believes anything good about himself.

Sam sighs to himself when he hears Dean’s sarcasm, and gets more emphatic about what he’s trying to communicate. “No. I mean it, Dean. You are. I was talking to Ann about this earlier, when she was asking about us, and I started going on and on about you, and what you being my big brother has meant to me.”

“And that’s when she asked you why you were macking on your big brother?” Dean interrupts, obviously uncomfortable with where Sam seems to be heading.

“Stop for a second. Here sit down with me, and just would you listen for once?” Sam asks, pulling Dean down with him onto an empty park bench. The pathway is still full of people, but no one is paying them any attention.

“Fine, whatever. I’m listening,” Dean says, with his shoulders beginning to tense up.

“Ann didn’t see us making out. Or at least she didn’t say anything. But she did say that she thought I ought to make sure that you knew all the stuff I was telling her about you. And at first I said I was sure you knew all of that already. But she insisted, and now that I’ve thought about it a little, she’s probably right that you might not know it.”

“You were talkin’ about me huh?” Dean asks, leaning back against the bench and stretching his legs.

Sam shifts into the same position. “Yeah I was, and it’s not the kind of stuff we usually say to each other. So just let me get it out, then you can give me a hard time if you need to.” He can’t believe he’s actually going to say this out loud to his brother, but maybe it’s the summer heat, the beautiful day they’ve had, or just that it’s been unsaid for too long. Regardless, he’s going for it, no matter how much Dean teases.

“Such a drama queen, Sammy,” Dean teases, bumping into Sam’s shoulder with his own.

Sam turns to Dean and slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “God, would you just shut up for a second! It’s hard enough to say shit like this as it is,” Sam says, taking a breath to steady himself. “Let me see if I remember it all. I told her that you are the best thing in my whole life. Having a big brother like you, Dean, no matter the things you’ve done for me that I don’t agree with, or didn’t want at the time. I know I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you without you having been there the whole time for me.”

Dean doesn’t say anything for far too long and finally shakes his head quickly a few times. “Sammy, what the hell am I supposed to say to something like that?”

“Uh…I don’t know. Thanks or something, I guess,” Sam says quietly, head going down towards his chest, silently praying that Dean won’t get mad, that he’ll actually listen this time.

Dean clears his throat, and looks over at his brother’s bowed head, he puts one hand on Sam’s shoulder, luckily the uninjured one and squeezes it gently. “Thanks Sammy. Yeah I did know it, or hoped it was true, whatever. But…uh it’s nice to hear. So, like you said…uh, thanks.”

Sam reaches up and covers Dean’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing his back. “You’re welcome. And it made me think about all the times I’ve probably said something similar to other people, but never to you. And I’m sorry, I should have, and from here on out I’m going to, so be warned.”

Dean seems to have to readjust himself internally a little at that statement and moves his hand out from under Sam’s, clenching it with his own between his legs. He bends over a little, sagging like he’s feeling the weight of something suddenly heavy. “Uh…okay. And I’ve done the same thing. I do it a lot actually. Probably told more people than I could count what a badass you are, or how I can count on you coming through when I need you, or how strong you are. But yeah, I never say that stuff to you. Don’t know why, but I don’t. Do you want me to?”

Sam wishes Dean was looking at him and not the pavement and the quickly passing feet of the late afternoon crowd. It’s not that he thinks Dean is lying, but it’s just so unexpected to hear Dean admit this all of a sudden. “You have?”

Dean looks up and laser focuses on Sam’s face, seeming to search out why that could even be a question. “Yeah. Of course I have,” he says with true exasperation.

“Huh,” Sam replies, knowing in an instant how lame that is, and that he’s probably teetering on the edge of pissing Dean off big time. It’s so rare that his brother ever talks about himself or his feelings, that to have questioned it is definitely pushing the line, even for a little brother.

“What, you didn’t think I ever bragged on you to people?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely perplexed and edging on angry.

Sam shrugs and smiles a little at Dean’s insistence. “No, not really. I figured it was just something I did. Being a little brother and all.”

“What is this? You don’t think you’re worth talking about? Thought I was supposedly the one with self-esteem issues, not you.”

“Well, like you said, I did learn from the best,” Sam teases.

“You weren’t supposed to learn that, ya doofus,” Dean says, cuffing Sam on the back of the head.

Sam bats his hands up to shove Dean off and then they’re wrassling right there on the park bench in Central Park. Until Dean pins him against the back of the bench a bit too hard and grinds his injured shoulder. “Ah, stop!” Sam yells.

“Oh. God, shit forgot about your shoulder. You okay Sammy?” Dean asks, having instantly morphed from all-out battling to big brother concern and contrition in an instant.  He hoists Sam back up to a seated position and pats gently at his chest.

Sam grimaces a little as he settles into the re-awakened throb of his shoulder and searches Dean’s concerned face. It’s lit sideways by the sun filtering through the leafy cover above them, highlighting the fuzz on his upper lip and the golden green in his eyes. He breathes in the smell of his brother, honest summer sweat, faint hint of grease from the hotdogs, sweetness from the watermelon and the underlying individual Dean scent. Impulsively he leans forward and kisses him, strong and sure, right there in the middle of the throng of passing park-goers, going against the usual PDA rules they unconsciously follow. Dean responds immediately, opening up to Sam’s kiss, and wrapping one arm around his waist to hold him close.

Someone snickers and yells “Get a room ya pervs!” at them, but nothing more than that happens. No consequences, no battles to defend each other from the homophobes they routinely encounter. Sam sighs in relief into Dean’s embrace, pulling him in even closer against his body, kissing him harder because he can, because he wants to, because they have this chance. He breaks their kiss and breathes into the shell of Dean’s ear, “Wanna go back to our room?”

Dean looks shell-shocked, or maybe just kiss-shocked, his lips red and a bit swollen, eyes dazed and dilated. In answer he gives Sam a sideways grin and pulls him up off the bench, carefully avoiding his shoulder. With Dean’s arm slung around his waist and his over Dean’s back, they walk off towards the park exit, their strides instantly in-sync.
It doesn’t take long for them to get back to their hotel back in Newark, a Holiday Inn with free underground parking. The room is insanely expensive and pretty run-down, even for them. But they don’t care, because there’s a bed, and privacy and each other. And that’s what they need right now. Dean undresses Sam slowly and completely, kissing gently over the newly exposed skin, even the tops of Sam’s feet. Sam’s without words for once, captivated by how Dean’s treating him. Usually they’re going at it, hard and fast, but maybe the words they’d traded in the park have gentled things between them this time.

Dean pulls the covers back on the bed and pushes Sam in the center of the chest until he lies down on the cool white sheets. He stands up and stops moving for a second, strangely still, as if he’s caught by the vision of Sam laid out on the bed below him. Sam doesn’t move or speak, just soaks in the attention, feeling Dean’s gaze land on his bare skin like a touch. He can’t help the groan that escapes when Dean looks at his quickly thickening cock, especially when he sees Dean’s pink tongue flick out and lick at his lips. He pulses his hips up a few times and that seems to break Dean out of his staring spell.

“Touch yourself, Sammy,” Dean says in a voice hoarse with desire.

Sam’s hand is moving before he’s conscious of it, grasping his hard length and stroking firmly with a twist at the head that makes him gasp. He’s so turned on by
Dean’s intense attention and surprising commands, that he’s just noticing that Dean is still fully clothed, which makes it all even more erotic. Dean’s eyes are alternating between holding his eyes so strongly it feels like it’ll be permanent soon and raking his moving hand and cock with a look so heavy it feels like he’s wrapped his hand around Sam’s. “Come for me now, Sammy,” Dean commands.

In this moment, Sam can’t do anything else except exactly what Dean’s ordered him to do. He lets loose on himself, arching up in a tight bow until all the shudders have left him. Dean’s eyes sparkle in their depthless green, a twinkle that holds an unsaid amount of praise that Sam doesn’t need to hear said out loud. At least not this time. Sam lays there, hand around his still hard cock, staring up at Dean, wishing that he could read his mind just this once, because he’s never seen this look on Dean’s face before. Just as he’s about to ask, Dean smiles and reaches down with one hand to touch the cooling come on Sam’s stomach.

Without letting go of Sam’s gaze, Dean runs his fingers through the sticky mess, painting designs and sigils and words into the skin of Sam’s taut belly. Sam keeps his hand around his cock, holding his breath as he waits for what will happen next. Dean’s got him so off-balance, they never do anything like this, and he’s so curious about why. But all of that is swept away when Dean finally speaks. “This is why, Sam. This right here. You are fucking amazing.”

Sam feels himself smile like he’s in another plane of existence, soaking up the unexpected praise. He could purr contentedly if he was a cat right now. Under Dean’s hand, hearing that voice say those words, holding his eyes, under his spell. He has no words of his own, but he doesn’t need any. He reaches up to Dean’s face, lightly stroking along his cheekbone with two fingers until he reaches Dean’s lips. Dean’s tongue darts out and licks at his fingertips. A full-body shudder goes through Sam, reminding his body of its recent orgasm, and he feels his cock jump in his hand.

“Need you, Dean,” Sam finally manages to say.

Dean nods in response, and makes quick work of taking off his own clothes. He crawls up the bed and settles over Sam, slotting himself into the familiar hollows of Sam’s body.  They grind together while Dean sets about kissing his way up and down Sam’s neck. Sam holds Dean tight against him, one hand gripping each side of his ass. He can feel Dean hardening even more and pushes him off before he can come. “C’mon, need you in me.”

With a low chuckle, Dean rolls over to reach for the lube, Sam tracing his hands along the elegant stretch of Dean’s long body. Dean shivers and sits up, moving between Sam’s legs. He warms up some lube between his palms and then sets to opening Sam up slowly while stroking his own cock with his other slicked-up hand.

Sam watches the slow movement of Dean’s hand, timed to move with his fingers scissoring inside him.

Finally it’s too much and he flips them. Dean laughs in surprise, holding Sam’s hips as he lowers himself down. When Dean’s all the way inside, Sam apologizes, “Sorry, but you were taking too damn long.”

“No apology necessary, just ride me,” Dean says, in a voice that sounds like he’s been up all night drinking whiskey. His green eyes glitter up at Sam, locking them together in a loop of sensation and desire.

Sam can’t speak, he can only do as Dean says, and he rides Dean, slowly at first, then speeding up into the faster rhythm they usually like best. He feels so perfect, full and stretched, it’s just so good.

“Look at you, still hard for me,” Dean says, still-slick hand gliding up and down Sam’s hard length.

Groaning at the touch, Sam tightens up around Dean in sync with his hand’s movements and Dean’s body begins to tighten and arch. His words and sounds fade as he disappears into bliss. Sam feels the new slickness deep inside, and another orgasm takes him over to join Dean.  They separate and clean off in a minimal way and pretty much pass out without another word, sated and complete.


“So while you were lazing around this morning, I sketched out the signs I remembered seeing on the girl’s stuff. You have anything to add to it before I start researching?” Sam asks, handing the notebook over to Dean.

Dean stirs himself just enough to reach for the notebook, but stays under the covers as much as he can manage. He looks at what Sam’s drawn so far and then reaches out a hand and makes a grabby motion.  Sam slaps a pen into Dean’s outstretched hand, smiling at the frown of concentration on Dean’s face. He watches as
Dean starts adding to what he’s drawn and sketches out a couple of smaller symbols he hadn’t picked up on.

“These look really familiar to me. But they’re not the usual hoodoo or voudoun stuff we’ve seen before,” Sam says, peering at the notebook upside down.

Dean looks up from the paper and sets the pen down when he sees how close Sam is, how much in his space he has ventured. He turns his face up slightly and closes his eyes. Sam notices the movement even though he’s focused on the arcane symbols.  How can he not? It’s Dean, and he’s right there, apparently expecting a kiss. Sam leans in and brushes their lips together softly. Dean lets out a pleased hum and keeps his eyes closed, parting his lips slightly. Sam nibbles gently on Dean’s bottom lip until he gets the groan he wants to hear from Dean.

“Don’t be starting anything you’re not gonna finish. Or haven’t I taught you anything?” Dean whispers against Sam’s pressing mouth.

“Shut up and let me,” Sam answers, moving the notebook out of the way.

Part 2