The Second First Time (part 6)
6 months later...
Sam's question came out of nowhere.
“What about what you said to me?”
“What do you mean?” Dean looks up from his book to Sam, who is sitting in a chair by the fire, long legs somehow pulled up underneath him. Dean wonders how he can fold up like that still.
“You - you said it was a mistake to love me.”
“What? What are you talking about?” He sets his book down and walks over to his brother, sitting on the floor beside him. He takes the hand that is dangling off the side and kisses it. When Sam looks back at the fire and doesn’t respond right away, he asks again.
“Sam? What do you mean? A mistake to love you?”
“That’s what you said when it happened. When I -”
“When you had your stroke?” Sam flinched and tried to pull his hand back, but Dean held on and tugged slightly, making Sam turn back to him. Sam hated talking about his accident. Hated the “s-word”.
“Sam, it’s okay to talk about it. It was an accident. You’ve recovered mostly. You’re doing amazing!”
Sam looked down at his lap and nodded. Those eyes were just too green to stare into.
“And Sam - I don’t know what you mean. I never said that.”
Sam snapped his head up. “Yes, you did. When it first happened, before I’d lost you for half a year. Or before I thought I’d lost you. It was real, you know? I lived through those days, I felt the time pass, you did leave me. And even though now I know that part wasn’t real - your words were. You did tell me that I was a mistake.”
Dean furrowed his brow and scrunched his mouth to the side, thinking. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Sam’s hand.
And then he remembered.
“Oh, Sammy - I - I’m so sorry. I did. I remember now. But you’re hearing it out of context. I was blaming myself. I’m the one that caused the injury. I was blaming myself. It was a mistake because I’d hurt you. If I hadn’t loved you as much as I did - then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. You understand?”
And just like that, months of carrying the weight of those words tumbled from Sam’s shoulders and he sagged back into the chair in relief.
“I love you, Sam. Truly and honestly and deeply. You are NOT a mistake. You are everything that is right in my world. And having you back and alive is everything to me. I still want you as much as I did that night. More, even.”
Sam’s eyes grew wet. “Then why haven’t you touched me since then, Dean?” His voice was trembling. He’s not sure where this was coming from.
“Oh. Sam. Sam, it’s not that I haven’t wanted you. You’ve been recovering. You needed time.”
“Will you touch me now, Dean?” Now Sam’s eyes filled with hope.
“Are you sure, Sammy?” Dean couldn’t resist when Sam did that. When his eyes went all puppy dog-like.
“God, Dean, yes. I need your touch so much.”
Dean wanted it too, and he nodded. “Yeah, Sammy, it has. It’s been so long, Sam. I’m going to have to be really gentle, yeah?”
Sam smiled. “Like you were our first time? I’d like that.”
“This can be our second first time, Sam, okay?”
Sam just nodded. Dean stood and pulled Sam up to stand next to him.
As promised, Dean was gentle. The kiss was long and sensual, their tongues dancing together, shirts slowly removed. Dean’s fingers trailed down Sam’s arms and moved around to cup his ass. Sam sighed and moaned into Dean’s mouth.
“Fuck, Dean, you’re -”
“Shhh, baby brother. I got you. Let me take care of you. Let me, ok?” Sam remembered these were the same words he’d used many years ago when this all first started.
Dean was true to his word. He led Sam to his bedroom and helped him lie down gently, all his movements purposeful and tender. Every touch, every kiss gently placed exactly where Sam liked it.
It was just like the first time, only better, because now Dean knew all of Sam’s spots. All of his weaknesses.
Nibbling on his ear, kissing his neck, and gently pulling at his hair. Dean made sure he was careful with Sam’s body. When he finally had Sam’s pants off, and he was gloriously naked before him, he kissed every inch of his long, muscular form. Sam was a big man, in all respects, but he was still a sensitive lover. Feather-like touches and gentle swipes of the tongue left Sam begging desperately for more.
“You can go a little harder Dean, I won’t break,” he whispered, but he didn’t really mind. And Dean wanted everything to be safe. And he made it all about Sam.
Their second first time lasted until the sun came up and Sam was a sweaty, pliant mess in Dean’s arms.
And Sam knew he was never going to be alone again.
