Chapter Text
Forcing himself to push the drama in his quarters out of his mind, Dean focused on his work. He got a lot of his paperwork done, much more than he had when Sin had been around, that much he admitted. Somehow he'd been more worried about Sin and had cut his hours way down to be with him more, to watch over him. Now, he'd called his quarters twice, confirmed Sam was alright, and then moved on with his work.
The practice runs against blue squadron had gone well. There wasn't a clear winning side so that should have shut Starbuck the hell up. You'd think... but it hadn't. And the rivalry would continue, as it always did.
Now Dean was done with his shift. Pushing his razor thin keyboard to the side, he rubbed his eyes. To his right he saw the drawer was half open. Reaching to close it, he saw the light glint off the polished black surface of its contents and he instead opened the drawer further. A smile played on his lips as he stroked the collar with his fingers and remembered a certain dark haired man hanging upside down from a tree limb and offering him an apple. "Sin," he whispered. The longing was too much. Abruptly, he shut the drawer and got up.
Ten centons later, he walked into his quarters and seeing the living room and kitchen area empty, walked to the bedroom. "Sin... Sam?"
Sam was lying on his cot, staring up at the ceiling with Shadow on his chest, staring at him. The tears over the loss of the collar had stopped some time ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to do anything. He had turned on the holopicture of Symphony Falls and had the 'music' the winds made turn on, though softly. In the Cylon cell he had gotten used to staring up at the ceiling or the wall, and just shutting the world out, lost in something of a trance. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't doing anything. Just staring, the sounds of the Falls like distant background noise. He didn't respond to Dean's greeting.
"Hey, lazy bones," Dean looked toward the cot and realized Sam hadn't even turned to him. "Hey, did I go invisible or something?" he joked, heading deeper into the room. "This 'music' can put anyone asleep." He wasn't being complimentary of the music.
When Sam still didn't answer, Dean walked over to his cot and saw his eyes were open. Frowning, he bent over and shook his shoulder lightly. "You ignoring me?" He could tell it was more than that, like Sam wasn't quite here. "Or are you in your happy place?"
When Dean shook him, it took a moment for his brain to kick back in. He drew in a sharp breath and practically jack-knifed up, jerking his shoulder away from Dean's touch. Shadow gave a sharp meow of complaint as she suddenly ended up in his lap. Sam's eyes scanned the room fearfully, his heart pounding frantically in his chest until his gaze came to rest on Dean. He let out a breath as relief filled him. It was okay. He was okay. He was safe. "Sorry," he said hoarsely. "I-I didn't hear you come in."
He took a couple a deep breaths and scratched Shadow's ears. "Sorry about that," he told the kitten apologetically. He reached up and shut off the holopicture then turned back to Dean. "Your shift already over? I guess I lost track of time."
"Yeah, it's over. Are you alright?" Looking a little skeptical, he cupped Sam's chin and raised his face up, inspecting him. The only sign he saw of crying was that Sam's eyelashes were clumped together as if they'd been wet. "What happened?" There was a slight urgency to his tone.
"What? No, I'm fine," Sam said. He took hold of Dean's hand that had lifted his chin and gave it a squeeze. "Really. I'm fine. So, what's on the agenda now?" he asked, trying to forget the keen absence of the collar around his throat, the keen absence of Sin.
"Thought we had a date. Triad?" he reminded Sam. "Unless you've had sufficient time to rethink playing against me."
Sam blinked a moment still gathering his wits a bit. "Right. Triad." He rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing a little at his eyes. "No, you're not getting out of it. I used to be pretty good at triad." After moving the cat, he climbed to his feet. He felt stiff. The workout would do him good, he thought as he slowly stretched.
"Okay, grab your gear. My stuff is in the lockers."
Once Sam had collected his things and they were on the way, Dean looked over at Sam. "What was it, that thing you were doing when you were staring off? It was like you were in a trance or something."
Sam gave a shrug. "I was just...it's hard to explain," he sighed. "Memories. Losses. When I was held by the Cylons, I learned to just shut down. I just needed...needed to shut down for a little bit, that's all."
"That's handy but..." he waited until a noisy group walked past them as they headed to the lift, "...what triggered your need to shut down? Is it something I should know?" Concern colored his words.
"No, it's no big deal. I just got upset about something. Nothing I can do anything about, nothing anyone can do anything about. I just have to put it behind me and move on. How did the trials go?" Sam asked, preferring the topic get changed. He didn't want to tell Dean he was torn up over the loss of Sin's collar.
About to press him harder for an answer, Dean remembered their talk from the morning. If it was Sam's decision not to tell him, at least for now, he would let Sam keep his secret. Nodding, he stepped into the lift. "Gym level."
Sam was glad Dean let the topic drop. How would he explain to Dean he had wanted to bury the collar among the apple trees on the agro ship? That he wanted to say goodbye to Sin, the part of him that had saved him from going completely insane and had enabled him to live a life on Thiros. Sin would argue that being a slave to a kind and loving master beat the hell out being free and lonely and sad. Both he and Sin had been broken but Sin could at least function, he could be happy. Sam had to admit the kitten Sin had chosen did cheer him a little. While playing with the cat for that brief period of time he could forget the horrible emptiness and shame he felt. He wished he could be like Sin and live only in the moment with no thoughts of the past or future. That gave Sin a freedom Sam envied. While Sin had been a slave, he had been free in spirit. Though Sam was free, his spirit was bound and chained. He really didn't think any amount of talking to doctors was going to fix him. He was broken. He would always be broken. He would never fly again, be a warrior again. Now, he couldn't even look at the stars in the Hand of God without thinking of Sin, of losing that precious part of himself that had allowed him to endure. Dean cared about him, but really, how long would that last? Once he was on his own...he really didn't expect himself to survive long. The depression and self-loathing would eventually win out. The doctors would give him medication to try to ease it all but all it would do would be to give him an easier way to end it.
Don't you say that. Don't you ever say that! Dean's words, the sheer fear he heard in Dean's voice...well it would just be one more person he failed. He was really good at failing people. Pushing those grim thoughts away, he forced himself back into the present. "So, you didn't say who won, Red or Blue?"
"Red won of course," he slapped Sam on the back and grinned. "If you ask anyone in red squadron. The blues might have a different idea, but they lie. This way." Grabbing Sam's arm he tugged him into a narrow corridor, a back way to the locker room that Dean usually preferred to take. Now they were almost shoulder to shoulder, bumping against each other. Dean looked down at the ground, his grin still firmly in place as he imagined pushing Sam against the wall of this hardly ever used access way and kissing him. If this were Sin, he would have... or he'd have been cajoled into it for sure.
Sam chuckled at Dean's declaration of Red's superiority. Blue squadron was the Strike Wing of the Galactica and Red essentially played that role when Blue was off duty. There was, of course, great rivalry between the two squads because of this. He had been Captain of the Strike Wing of the Starfire, but on the Starfire there were only three small squads. In order for people to get rotations off, the borders of the squadrons were a little more fluid as members from other squads would fill positions of people on leave or days off. It made for a well-oiled machine in truth because everyone more or less got to fly with everyone else periodically. On the battlestar, the squadron lines were harder defined with slightly larger squadrons and nine squads in all. This allowed for rivalry (usually friendly) to develop.
He was surprised Dean took them along back corridors. A leftover habit of dealing with Sin he supposed. Crowds didn't panic him the way they did Sin, though he still was nervous at the idea of running into someone who might recognize him. In the small corridor he could practically feel the heat of Dean's body as they occasionally bumped into each other. He wondered briefly what Dean would do if he were to grab him and kiss him here in these empty halls. Probably try to keep more distance between them, Sam thought with a sigh.
Reaching the locker room was almost a relief. Sam moved in front of a locker Dean pointed to and then changed. He laughed as he looked down at himself. The protective gear was designed to essentially only cover vulnerable joints. The gear really hadn't changed since the ancient days other than modern padding, and the addition of headgear. Sam recalled that at one time, in days on Kobol, the game was played naked.
"You know, I think Sin got to wear more than this most times," Sam commented ruefully, though to suggest more clothing be worn during the almost ritualistic game that had become a sport was practically heresy.
Dean's appreciative gaze slid over Sam's semi-naked body, then he chuckled. "I guess they used to play outdoors and less clothes meant less friction with wind and... who the fuck am I protecting? A pervert came up with the game," he said, dragging his gaze away. "Thank the Lords you have to concentrate on the ball or there might be no game going on." That was if the players had the hots for their opponents...
"Come on old timer, let's see what you got," Dean said, heading down to another corridor off the locker room, leading to the Triad arenas, and pushing open one of the doors. The walls of the triangular room were made of silver metal part way up but at about the ten feet mark changed to glass to allow those in the currently empty overhead gallery to watch the game. Each of the three walls had a circle shaped hole with a neon light border that would constantly change color. "I'm red, you're blue," Dean said, being used to being on the red team in team games.
"House rules aren't that different from a regulation game," he continued. "Ball only goes in the hole when it's your color. If it's mine, I get the score. You can't hang onto the ball while you're waiting for one of the holes to light up in your color... it has to keep moving, use the walls, floors, ceiling to bounce it... and try not to get hit by it." The balls were damned hard and if you were hit, it usually meant you would wear a bruise on your body. "So... any of that familiar to you from eons ago, or did you want to play a tamer game, seeing as you're old and all?" Dean knew due to the cryogenic freezing they were likely about the same age, or there might be a slight difference, though until they got the full story from Sam, they wouldn't know by how much and who was older.
Passing Dean a mild glare, Sam gave a nod. "Yes I think this eons old brain remembers how to beat smart-ass youngsters who think they're better than they are." Sam took position in the center of the arena with Dean who held the ball. "Send it airborne youngster so I can beat your pants off."
Sam stood ready and as soon as the ball went up Sam waited just a fraction of a micron before launching himself into the air. He had a bit of height over Dean and used it to slap the ball away and into one of the walls. He angled it to ricochet off another wall and dove after it. He felt Dean's body collide into his as Dean tried to slip past his guard but Sam snatched the ball and check the scoring light. Felgercarb. He didn't know the timing sequence of the color shifts. No matter, he took the shot anyhow. If it changed to red, so be it, a point for Dean. The ball swished through the hole just before the color changed. Point for blue. Sam grinned at Dean and caught the ball as it was spit back out into the arena.
He put the ball airborne but Dean was ready for him this time. He felt Dean slam against him just hard enough to keep the ball out of his reach.
Dean played hard. He hadn't thought he'd need to, but when Sam had been aggressive from the git go, he'd learned real fast how wrong he was. Sin would have given him quarter, would have probably made sure he played a hard game, but in the end, Dean would win. Not so with Sam.
Tossing the ball against the wall, Dean quickly determined its trajectory and dove to get it first. Sam's long arms were in the way, and he had to duck under to get by him to be in front. It was close and he couldn't snatch the ball, so he used his fist to send it to the wall behind them.
As the ball ricocheted from one wall to the other, and even to the ceiling, it kept changing hands. At one point, they both jumped up at the same time facing each other, Dean trying to make a shot, Sam blocking him. Their bare and sweaty chests slid together, and for a micron, Dean's mind was off the game and Sam got complete control over the ball. Dean cursed under his breath. "That is a sneaky, underhanded, Sin-worthy trick," he said, chasing after Sam.
"That's triad," Sam said, after slamming the ball into the hole for a point. He stepped right up to Dean, hardly any space between them. "Besides if I were Sin, you would have felt more than just my chest." Sam tilted his hips and gave the smallest of thrusts. There was solid protection over the groin but the slide of the groin gear over each other was unmistakable. Sam gave Dean a smirk, seeing exactly where Dean's mind flashed to. "That," Sam said, "was Sin-worthy. Stop drooling, we aren't done yet."
Sam returned to center ring and the next set of rapid fire shots began. The competition was intense, neither giving quarter. At one point Dean slammed the ball into a ricochet and Sam almost instinctively bounded across the arena floor, slammed one foot three feet up the wall, stepped across to the adjoining wall another three feet and intercepted, shooting the ball as he somersaulted to land lightly on his feet. He realized suddenly that that had always been one of his trademark moves in the triad games and it had come back to him without any thought or effort. His competition hated it because he almost always made a score when he did that. Dean slammed into his side just as Sam landed, expecting Sam to still have the ball and hoping to regain it. Sam fell back and Dean stumbled and ended up on top of him.
"I believe that was my point, and game," Sam said, grinning up Dean.
"I feel your point," Dean answered through gritted teeth, then he let it go. "I do want a re-match, tomorrow," he said, pulling to his feet and putting his hand out to help Sam up.
As they walked back into the locker room, they rehashed the game a little. It had been close. It had been a good game, and they were pretty evenly matched. Yeah... Dean really wanted to win next time. As he changed, he looked over his shoulder at Sam and wondered if he knew that his dad, John, had been watching them, at least at the end of the game. That was part of the reason Dean had been pissed off at losing. "Felt good. Playing."
Giving a nod, Sam agreed, smiling just a little. "Yeah, it did. I never minded working out in the weight room, but I always enjoyed sports more." Twisting his head, he let his gaze drift over Dean's body before coming back up to meet his eyes. "All sorts of sports."
The heat in Sam's eyes was catching and Dean's reflected it twice fold. "That a fact?" Licking his lips, he fastened his pants, knowing whatever it was between them was going to flare, and soon. And that there was nothing he could do about it.
The look Dean returned made Sam's cock twitch in anticipation. His mind flashed back to those narrow empty halls they had walked. He had never been a ladies man exactly, tended to be pretty monogamous, but he usually only dated one girl for a few months before moving on, ever the romantic in search of love. But during those few month of monogamy with whomever, he was a bit notorious for having sex in "risky" places, places where someone had the potential to come across them. The thought of tackling Dean in that hallway was growing more and more attractive. There was nothing that added to the thrill of sex like the adrenalin of risk. Knowing you had to be quiet while wanting to scream as you came your brains out.
"Yeah. That's a fact. I'm usually up for most any type of sport," Sam said, leaving his gear in the locker for the next day. The locker was equipped with a refresher so they would be clean for the next game. He found himself looking forward to another game against Dean. He really had enjoyed that far more than he had expected to.
Dean gave a grunt. "Not surprised." Slamming his own locker shut, he turned. Seeing Sam's hair plastered on his forehead, his fingers itched to push it back. "Come on, Sport." He walked out of the room, just as he heard other players from one of the other arenas walk in to change.
"Call me 'Slick' or something. Not 'Sport,'" Sam said, giving him a mild glare.
Outside in the narrow hallway, they kept touching. Neither of them had sealed their shirts closed and Dean kept being tantalized by the sliver of skin peeping out between the flaps of Sam's shirt. He felt his pulse increasing as he thought about taking that kiss he'd wanted, just doing it. His sidelong glances were definitely returned, which just kept him more on edge, his imagination taking him to places he didn't need to be going when his dad was in the vicinity.
Sam couldn't help but think about Dean's sweat sheened body in the game arena and the locker room. Yeah, they could have showered there, but both seemed to make the same call that they'd rather shower back in Dean's quarters. He wanted to run his fingers over that sweaty skin, lick up Dean's chest, tasting the salt, tasting him as he slid his hands over the small of Dean's back and straight down to those firm, downy ass cheeks. He felt his cock begin to take a serious interest in his thoughts and desires. If he wasn't careful he was going to make the last part of the walk to their quarters with a full on erection. Of course, if he could get it handled before they ever made it out of the empty corridors....
Maybe when they got to their quarters they could shower together. Sin would definitely suggest it. Sam... Dean looked over at him and felt the tension between them, one hundred percent sexual this time. Yeah, Sam would definitely go for it. His mind filled with images of them stripping in the small bathroom, groping, shoving as they got into the small shower enclosure, bodies sliding against each other. A low moan slipped from between his lips, his hand lightly touching Sam's back.
That's all it took, that light touch. The heat between them exploded. Dean turned and started to push Sam up against the wall at the same moment Sam attacked him. Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, crushing together, teeth clinking as they each fought for control of the kiss. Dean's hand was flat against the wall behind Sam, his free hand boldly roved over Sam's abs and chest, smooth skin stretched taut over muscles making him moan again with need.
Sam's hand slid under Dean's shirt, up his still sweat slicked back and groaned into Dean's mouth. He reached between them and released Dean's belt then undid the button. The waistband loose enough, he drove his hands under it Dean's as cheeks now under his hands with no cloth to frustrate him. After squeezing and kneading them a moment, the fingers of his right hand delved between the cleft and went straight to Dean's hole, circling it and pressing lightly, wanting desperately to push in, submitting to Dean's tongue as the victor while he was determined to be the victor a bit lower.
Dean made a warning sound, but didn't pull away. He continued the onslaught of his mouth over Sam's, practically devouring him, his tongue laying claim to every corner of Sam's mouth as he tongue fucked him within an inch of his life. Sam's fingertips skittering over his hole had Dean's stomach clenching tight. Sin would have asked permission... Sam... Dean braced, and pushed his own hand down Sam's looser pants, closing his fingers around the other man's cock and squeezing.
The way Dean took his mouth almost made Sam dizzy. Frack this man could kiss. He heard Dean's almost growl as his fingers circled Dean's hole. That was a 'no' if ever he heard one. He relented. He wouldn't do something Dean didn't want, that wasn't his way and he returned to kneading Dean's ass. When Dean's hand shot down his pants and gripped him, his knees went weak as blood surged into his cock. This time he would let Dean take the lead though he wanted to fuck that sweet ass so badly.
If he couldn't fuck Dean then he wanted Dean to fuck him. He pulled his hands free of Dean's pants and after palming Dean a centon, he opened Dean's pants and shoved them down. When Dean finally gave Sam a chance to take a breath he didn't waste it. "Fuck me," he panted, opening his own pants for Dean.
He was hard, so fucking hard. And then Sam's 'fuck me' sent more blood surging to Dean's cock and had him groaning with pain and pleasure. Turning his head, he looked down the empty corridor. The warning bells in his head couldn't compete with the needs that were riding him like a bitch. Grabbing Sam's shirt, he pulled him up hard against him and kissed him again, wet lips moving over wet lips before he turned them around, first shoving Sam's back up against the wall, then pulling him back and turning him around. The instant Sam's hands went up to protect his face, Dean pushed him again, this time face first toward the wall.
Dean's desperation had him as hard as Dean. He loved desperate as much as Sin had and groaned with the anticipation of feeling Dean inside him.
He tugged roughly at Sam's pants, pulling them lower, then running his hands up his powerful thighs. His cock nudged against Sam's ass, and had him biting his lower lip to prevent another moan. "Need you. Bad," he said, aligning himself and unable to hold back, pushing inside Sam in one strong thrust. Buried deep inside Sam, finding him hot and tight around his cock, a low moan erupted from Dean's throat. "Fuck..." he tried to hang on for a moment, though his body told him to fuck... just fuck.
A soft groan erupted from Sam as he relaxed himself when he felt Dean at his hole and then Dean was in him. "Gods, yes," Sam said, taking the same moment to enjoy Dean's reaction to being inside him. But he wanted more, wanted Dean now. He clenched his muscles around Dean's cock and began to rock back against him. He could tell from the tension in Dean's body it wasn't going to take much encouragement. His own cock was stiff but with how Dean had him, how he knew Dean was going to fuck him, his cock would have to go untouched. He could hold back which was probably good since he didn't really want to spray the wall and himself with his cum. When Dean was done giving them what they both wanted, he'd try to get Dean to suck him off...or turn Dean around and return the favor. Now that, that would be truly perfect.
As Sam squeezed tightly around him, as tightly as Sin ever had, blinding heat took the last shred of Dean's control. One arm across Sam's chest, his other hand clamped onto his hip, Dean started to fuck. There was no prelude. No soft kisses to the back of Sam's neck, no whispered words of comfort. Desperation burned through him, had him in its grips too tightly to allow him any softness now. Dean thrust hard and fast, eyes closed tight, breaths panting out from between his lips as he sought one thing and one thing only... release. "Yeah... oh fuck," he slammed his hips against Sam's, grinding against his ass, pulling out and starting again... chasing his release.
Sam didn't tease him but he worked him, making certain every thrust in, every pull out gave Dean the most pleasure Sam could offer. "More," Sam moaned as Dean's cock brushed repeatedly over his prostate, sending ripples of absolute exquisiteness through every fiber in him. Dean was his in this moment and he gripped that thought and held it tight. The moment. Like Sin knew and understood. It was his. Dean was his everything in that tiny slice of time and the only thing that existed was the two of them.
"More, yeah," Dean answered, voice gritty and strained. He fucked harder, tried to be less selfish, tried to aim for Sam's prostate with every thrust. The instant he was getting it right, he knew from the sounds Sam made. That pushed him on, enflamed his need. He couldn't take it, not another centon longer. "Sam!" he groaned as his balls drew up tight against his body. One more sharp thrust deep inside Sam and he was coming, his hot seed filling his lover, his hands gripping him tighter. Mine... mine... The notion reverberated in his mind until the last shudder of pleasure passed through him.
Dean's mouth slid across the salty sensitive skin of Sam's neck as he kissed him now. Slowly, he pulled out, and turned him around. The sight of Sam's disheveled hair, his flushed cheeks and lust blown pupils had Dean holding his breath. "Beautiful," he whispered, pushing one hand up Sam's cheek, then letting his fingers card through his hair as he leaned in and kissed him again, thoroughly, very aware that the hardness he felt against his hip and belly was Sam's very erect cock.
Sam readily accepted Dean's kiss, pulling Dean up against him, capturing his cock between them to get some of the much needed pressure he was dying for. His hands wandered up and down Dean's back caressingly, then dropped lower. He finally pulled back from the kiss and looked into Dean's eyes hungrily. "I want you just as badly," Sam murmured, pressing his cock a little harder against his lover as his hand drifted up and down Dean's crack. "Will you let me?" he asked.
He'd been about to drop down on his knees in front of Sam when Sam's fingers stroked between his ass cheeks and sounding almost feverish with need, Sam told him what he wanted. Exactly what he wanted. Dean wasn't against it. He'd already been fucked by Sin and had enjoyed it. But here, trapped against a wall, where he had almost no control over the situation... that had him tensing slightly. There was no reason for it. It wasn't the getting caught aspect... he'd let that go when they'd gone from kissing to more. It was the control thing. Could he let go, for Sam, like he had for Sin?
Sam felt the momentary hesitation in Dean and vowed he wouldn't push. Even if Dean gave him nothing, the feel of Dean pounding into him, possessing him, still had his heart beating furiously. He was certain Dean would give him something when they reached their quarters, even if just to shower with him and caress him. He would accept that as enough.
A few hotly panted breaths later, Dean gave a nod. "Yes." Without waiting for Sam to turn him, Dean looked around once again and maneuvered his body so he was facing the wall, his face to one side, looking in the direction they'd be leaving.
Sam's breath caught. Dean was...willing. He wrapped his arms around Dean's chest and bit into his shoulder as he pressed up against him, groaning as his cock slipped between Dean's cheeks. Dean was a near virgin he reminded himself. He couldn't just push in and take him with abandon. Dean would need to be opened and stretched to accept him without hurting him.
"Thank you," he whispered into Dean's ear then dropped to his knees, spreading Dean's cheeks and immediately licking that tight puckered hole, running his tongue around it, working his tongue in and pulsing it. He stroked his own cock, gathering pre-cum, and using some of Dean's own seed that dripped from his own hole. As soon as he felt Dean begin to relax, he worked one finger into him while still working him with his tongue.
There were ways to make a man relax, places to stroke, pressure points, and Sin's training practically erupted in his mind. His other hand caressed Dean's body soothingly as he curled that finger inside Dean, still working his tongue around sensitive flesh. He moaned in pleasure, feeling his finger inside his lover, knowing his cock would be there soon, inside that sweet clenching heat. When felt Dean was ready, he pushed in a second finger, finger fucking him, his tongue still working Dean while his other hand continued their soothing caresses.
Groaning, Dean pushed back against Sam's fingers. He didn't know how it happened or when, but the initial unpleasantness of the invasion into his body was replaced by his need for more. It happened the moment he'd relaxed, stopped trying to control when and how he'd be penetrated, and then Sam's finger had touched him in that place that sent shivers of pleasure throughout his body and he'd welcomed Sam's second finger. He was being stretched, he remembered being stretched more by Sin's cock, what that felt like, and how good it was once he'd stopped worrying.
He started to push back harder, "Do it. No time, here," he said through gritted teeth, partly because he was worried about where they were, and partly because he wanted, needed, Sam inside him, and wanted to be fucked the way he'd fucked him moments ago. "Now... need you now, Sam." He tried to soften the order into a plea.
Dean's desperation echoed his own. He knew and understood exactly what Dean needed. He stood up, stroking himself quickly a few times, spreading his pre-cum over his dick. He pressed up against Dean, aligning himself. He wanted to plunge in and take Dean the way Dean had taken him, but he would not hurt Dean. Biting into Dean's shoulder to distract him, he pressed slow but firm until the head of his cock passed that tight ring of muscle. He paused, groaning with pleasure as he slowly rolled his hips, helping to stretch Dean a little more, letting Dean have just a moment to get used to him, then began to pushing in deeper. The rate was steady but not so fast as to overwhelm the man, not so slow as to make either of them any more desperate than they were.
Fully buried in Dean, he groaned in Dean's ear. "Perfect, so damned perfect," he whispered, almost in awe. That Dean was giving him this seemed to mend something inside him just a little. He wasn't alone, he was trusted, and maybe even loved. He nipped Dean's neck then sucked on it as he ran his hands over Dean's sweat drenched body. Then he began to move, slowly at first, wanting Dean to get used to his cock inside him. As soon as he felt Dean relax, hearing the noises of pleasure spilling softly from him, Sam shifted positions, taking much the same position as Dean had with him. He began to piston in faster.
It took Dean a little longer to get used to this second invasion. His fingers curled in and pressed against the hard wall as he fought to accept, to relax, to allow himself to find enjoyment in this. He took a few deep breaths, then concentrated on the fullness he felt inside him, on the knowledge that Sam was pulsing with need deep inside him, dying to fuck but waiting for him. He moved slightly and felt Sam pushing back. That the small movements inflicted no pain had him relaxing more. Then Sam started to angle his small thrusts and Dean started to push back, needing, wanting more of the heat that flooded through him each time Sam hit his prostate. "Yeah... oh yeah... go... harder..." he demanded, clenching his muscles around Sam to mess with the other man's control, to make him do as he asked.
"Fuck, oh gods, yes, yes," Sam moaned as the heat of Dean's insides wrapped around him and squeezed him.
"Harder," Dean demanded again, reaching back, his hand on Sam's half clothed ass, pulling on him. "Ungh ... ungh... ungh..." his face pressed against the cool wall each time Sam thrust into him, harder, faster, both of them moving in jerky uncontrolled movements. "Please..." he pleaded, feeling his cock twitch, grow hard once again. "More."
Sam would have smiled at the way Dean just wouldn't give up control, but his mind was too busy wanting to give the man everything he had. He pounded into Dean, just the way Dean demanded, giving him hard, giving him more. He knew Dean's cock would be responding with the way he was hitting Dean's prostate, with the way they were moving. He gripped Dean tightly around the waist, making them move in unison, making it smooth. When he felt himself begin to tighten, his release at its edge, he grabbed the base of Dean's cock to keep him from coming as his own seed burst into Dean, filling him and he groaned. He emptied himself inside his lover, knowing that forcing Dean to hold back was probably an agony of pleasure and pain Dean was ill-prepared for. He had barely finished pulsing inside Dean and while he wanted nothing more than to finish letting Dean milk him dry, he didn't want to force Dean to wait. He pulled out, dropped and twisted between the man's spread legs, taking Dean's cock deep in his mouth as he released him to fuck his mouth and finish coming as he knew his lover so desperately needed to.
Curses streamed from Dean's lips as he was cheated out of his release. Before he could push back, before he could demand it, demand that Sam let go, let him come, Sam was already pulling out of him. Too quick, too fast, more protests formed and were on the tip of his tongue when he felt his cock get sucked into the heat of Sam's mouth. That was a trick worthy of Sin... and they both knew it, not that Dean was complaining. Pulling away from the wall as far as he could, he bent his knees and lowered himself in and out of Sam's mouth, groaning as Sam started to suck. "Fuck... Sam..." that was as far as he got, before he came again, this time inside Sam's mouth. He leaned his sweaty forehead against the cool wall as Sam licked him clean, then moved again to allow him to stand.
"That was... really something," Dean said thickly, rushing to pull his pants up and fasten them as Sam did the same next to him, but a half step back.
Sam grinned at him as he zipped and fastened his belt. "I couldn't have the Captain of Red walking the halls with his clothes less than perfect." He closed the gap between them and took him in his arms, kissing him, sharing the flavor while showing him his passion, love, and gratitude. He pulled back and looked at Dean's flushed face, seeing Dean as Dean had seen him. "Thank you. That was so fucking perfect. Like you."
He adjusted Dean's off duty uniform, sealing up the shirt and straightening it, then running his hand along Dean's cheek. If Dean had been a woman, he would have pulled her close and just held her to him. The Captain of Red? Hah. He didn't think that was going to happen. But the thought of a nice shower together, a decent dinner, and then settling together on the bed to watch a movie, that would be good way to finish off the day. He still felt the pang of loss of Sin's collar, but the game and the very very hot and perfect sex had been a welcome and effective distraction from the hole in his chest. "Well, except when I'm kicking your ass at triad," Sam added with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes.
Dean gave a grunt of disagreement, looking down and confirming he looked decent then looking Sam up and down. Then something Sam said niggled in his mind. "Sam, I'm nowhere near 'perfect.' If you really think that, you're gonna be very disappointed." They all said things during sex and in its afterglow, but Dean wanted to be sure. Miscommunications between them were to be avoided at all costs.
"Everyone has moments of perfection," Sam said as he fastened his own shirt closed. "And just then...you were exactly, perfectly, what I needed. And you gave yourself to me. You let me have what I needed." He looked at Dean through his bangs. "If you'd rather, I could hug you to me and tell you how beautiful you are and bring you flowers and mushies instead."
Clearing his throat, Dean started to walk and gave the other man a sidelong glance. "Just how the fuck do you get me to do this... have sex in public places? And without even taking me dinner," he said, now giving him a pointed look.
Sam laughed softly. "Yeah, I, uh, always had this thing for sex in public places. You wouldn't believe some of the places I got away with having sex." Returning Dean's pointed look he said, "Well if I'm going to take you to dinner, I wanted to make sure I worked up your appetite good and proper. So one appetite satisfied, the other...you're choice of restaurants." Sam almost paused midstride. "I don't suppose LeMady's survived did it? That place always had the best pasta in the Twelve Colonies and beyond."
"LeMady's?" Dean rarely left the Galactica unless it was a big date. More often than not, he simply took his date to one of the restaurants aboard the ship. "Haven't heard of it, but doesn't mean it doesn't exist. When we get back, check the directory and see if it's on any nearby ship, or you might see what else you like. If the ship is too far, we'd have to hop from one transport to another, and that's a waste of time."
"I'll do that. Sure would be nice if it was still around," he said. He didn't realize just how much his mind wanted to grasp onto the concept he was simply on the Starfire and that the Twelve Colonies were still out there and that he'd see them again on his next rotation off. That was something he would put in his memory diary, something to talk to the pysch doctor about. He was more than certain they had effective ways to help Sam deal with that, certain he was one among thousands who had to come to terms with that.
Dean's strides lengthened the minute they reached the main corridor. A little guiltily, he searched the faces of people passing them by and felt no extra scrutiny. The idea of leaving, of sharing a meal elsewhere suddenly had him whistling, though he cut it out the centon he realized what he was doing. "So this... it's a date." Again, it wasn't clear whether it was a statement or a question.
Sam smirked at Dean's whistling and the way he suddenly stopped as if embarrassed or afraid it was going to give something away. Sure they both looked disheveled and a little sweaty, but hey, they had been playing triad. You got hot and sweaty playing triad. Easy explanation if anyone asked. Though if anyone had heard Dean and he were sharing quarters and suspected beds, other conclusions might be drawn.
Dean's question had him cocking an eyebrow at him. "If you want it to be. If you're comfortable with that. I am."
"Date," Dean said decisively, bumping shoulder's with Sam. Whether he was comfortable with it or not, he wasn't sure. No, he was sure, he did want a date, something beyond sex. Maybe it was because they were already friends of a sort, they were beyond sex. Maybe he needed to find out what this was about, what it could be about. And maybe all he needed to know was that right now, the thought made him happy.
Sam had to admit he was surprised. He really didn't expect Dean to want to acknowledge what sort of relationship they had, at least not in public. Frack, he didn't think either of them really understood it themselves.
"Okay," Sam said. He smirked to himself. Maybe he should get flowers for Dean. No, he shouldn't, he supposed. If Dean wanted to go on a date, a real date, he didn't want to irritate Dean with doing something that might imply he wasn't taking it seriously. He'd never dated a guy before. Sure, guys had wooed Sin, but that was just part of the job. Gold Elixir. Dean liked good gold elixir. He could get that for Dean. That wasn't girlie and he could say something like they drank all his and he was just replacing it if Dean got weird about it. And if Dean got weird about it, then he wouldn't do something like that again.
They reached the lift and were waiting for its arrival when a couple of people Dean knew came up to them. They chatted a few minutes until the lift arrived. Sam and Dean stepped inside and right before the doors closed one of them mentioned he'd heard they'd had a good game of Triad. Dean released his breath only when the doors shut and the lift started moving. They'd probably heard from his dad, because that was the only person he'd seen up in the gallery. He didn't want the mention of John's name to ruin Sam's evening, and was sure it would.
Once the doors closed, Sam looked at Dean. "I guess I was too focused on the game. I didn't notice anyone watching us. Did you know we were being watched?"
Great. "Yeah. At the end, hadn't noticed before," he said, hoping Sam would let it rest. His gaze went to the numbers lighting up until they reached their floor and walked out. "Really need a shower," he cleared his throat and kept walking.
Sam chewed over Dean's words and actions. He wasn't as good as Sin at reading people maybe, but there was no doubt Dean didn't want to discuss it. He wondered why, then decided he really didn't need to know. Dean had let it drop when he didn't want to talk about what had upset him earlier in the day, so he would give Dean the same courtesy. He caught up with Dean. "Yeah I need a shower too. What with the water being rationed, you think maybe we ought to share?" he asked innocently.
"Great idea." Dean's agreement came quickly, along with the relief he felt at not being grilled. "Not that I believe it's for rationing's sake," he added, grinning.
Sam grinned back.
They reached his quarters, and Dean identified himself, then walked inside. Something black and white ran towards him and he sidestepped, cursing.
Sam saw Dean dodge to the right as they entered the quarters and the next thing he knew he had a bundle of fur in his arms. He laughed. "I think I should have called you 'needs attention' or something," he told the kitten. He held the kitten and scratched its ears. "Just be glad it bonded to me instead of both of us," he told Dean, laughing at the face Dean was making.
"I am. Glad." And he was, but not just about the cat. He was feeling damned good on the heels of a great game and the intense sex that followed. His gaze rested for a long moment on Sam. He couldn't imagine himself doing someone else in that corridor... couldn't imagine letting anyone else fuck him, anywhere. "It's not just sex," he blurted out, not knowing why. Giving an embarrassed half shrug, he started to walk backwards into the bedroom, undoing his shirt with one hand.
Sam stared at him blankly a moment, Dean's words sinking in. Dean wanted a date with him, and it wasn't just sex. Sam walked slowly after him, watching Dean undo his shirt. He caught up with him in the bedroom and after setting Shadow on the bed, helped Dean finish taking off his shirt and pulled Dean into an embrace.
"You told me you aren't perfect. I know that. You want to go on a date. I can't tell you how that makes me feel, but thrilled comes pretty close. I know you know I'm broken. I don't know who I'll be, what I'll be like, a couple months from now. We both know I'm probably going to have more than a couple breakdowns over the next couple months, things that are going to trigger me into," he shrugged, "a violent episode, or I'll get lost again, who the frack knows." He kissed Dean gently then pulled back to look into those beautiful green eyes.
"I need you to help me. But don't ever feel trapped. If you decide I'm not what you want, you have to tell me. It'll hurt me, probably hurt you too, but it'll be worse if you don't tell me. I don't understand what this thing is between us. Sin," Sam choked on the name, keenly feeling his absence suddenly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "You asked that question before and Sin said it was chemistry." He ran his fingers gently through the man's hair. "Things change. Everything changes. I won't--I don't want to go out on a date with you if I'm going to embarrass you. I'd rather go out as friends. Are you ready to treat me as a possible boyfriend in public? If you aren't, then our relationship needs to stay in the bedroom or," and Sam grinned at him, "the next public place we find that's too tempting to pass up." He grew more serious. "I just need to know the rules. Either we are friends in public and you are my...guardian...or you are my date in public. What happens behind these doors can stay behind these doors. I'm strong enough to see the surprised looks on the faces of those around us. I'm not strong enough to have you suddenly pull away from me embarrassed, okay? I do understand that there might be the occasional person that it happens with, people you know and aren't quite ready to have seen it. But not strangers, or acquaintances. I need to know you're not ashamed of being with me. In a few weeks, I may be stronger, but not yet. So...is it a date, or are we going out as friends? And if it starts out a date and you find you aren't ready for it to be, that's okay. Just tell me. Don't snap at me or push me away. Just tell me your aren't ready."
It felt like the walls were closing in on him. Dean took a deep breath and looked down, running a hand over his face. He fought the urge to step back, to run, the very thing Sam kept telling him he couldn't bear. "I... I hadn't quite thought that far." He searched Sam's face, then gave him the truth, the whole truth. If there was going to be an outburst, it was best it happen right here. "I want a date. A real date. But... just a date, not..." He let out another breath. "I date a lot of people, Sam. They're not my... my girlfriends or my anything. Wait, I just told you it's more than sex, and it is, but that doesn't mean we're, you know, together... exclusive. I'm just... I think I need to explore this and I can't commit. Really, I've never committed to anyone and maybe you should know that right now." He reached out, knowing Sam liked... needed to be touched, and ran his knuckles down the side of Sam's face. "Can you handle that? If so, I can handle it being and looking like a real date. I'd rather not suck face in front of Adama or my dad, but..." he shrugged.
Sam turned his head a little into Dean's touch. It felt so nice. He smiled at Dean and nodded. "I dated a lot, too, though I was always exclusive when I dated someone. It took me a long time to find someone I wanted to commit to. I get that hesitancy to commit especially in our line of...in your line of work as a warrior. I would prefer we be exclusive, but if that's your way, then I accept it and I'm glad you told me now. It would have definitely pissed me off to discover you dating someone else otherwise. Both of us seem to be on the same page, that we want to explore this more, but neither of us know where it might lead. Okay, just a date. Not boyfriends." Sam shook his head and laughed a little. "Now I never thought a word like that would ever come out of my mouth. 'Boyfriends.' Get your shower, while I figure out where we're going to eat, then I'll get mine." Seeing the slight protest in Dean's eyes he added, "We both know if we shower together, we'll never make it to dinner."
A relieved chuckle worked its way out of Dean. "Alright, but what guarantees you won't jump me when I come out?" He didn't wait for an answer, but unfastened his pants, toed off his boots, and stripped off his clothes. Though he didn't look over his shoulder, he was pretty damned sure Sam was looking, and that had him grinning.
"You don't," Sam murmured, watching Dean's muscular body as Dean strode off to get his shower. Sam grabbed the string Shadow so liked to play with and went to the computer to review restaurants, trailing the string behind him. Shadow mewed happily and raced after it.
* * *
Sam was pleased with the restaurant he had found. One of the owners of LeMady's, their son, had survived and opened up a restaurant that had a similar menu of the place Sam remembered. The ship where the restaurant was wasn't all that far from the Galactica, just a short shuttle ride of a few centons all said and done. The place had a few portholes and before Sam could protest, Dean had already made a request for one of those tables. Sam tried to ignore looking out, trying to forget Sin. He had ordered them grog and then ordered one of his favorite dishes and made a few suggestions to Dean.
Conversation had been fairly light and relaxed, Dean catching him up on recent and older events that Sam asked about as Sam tried to grasp the situation of the fleet. The conversation had drifted to sports and then to technological progress made since Sam's capture. He knew he was going to simply have to sit down and start reading records, but Dean's knowledge helped give him a place to start in many cases.
"So, what do you think," Sam finally asked. "Best pasta or not?"
"I hate it," Dean said, scraping the last of his food off the plate, and then "mmm'ing" around it in his mouth. Looking up and catching Sam's eyes, he grinned.
"Oh, well then you won't like the desserts either, I'm sure. I guess I should just call for the bill..."
"Desserts... I'm a dessert person," Dean said quickly. If it was half as good as the meal.... Brushing his knee against Sam's, he added, "I taste better with a little something sweet."
Sam grinned at Dean's hasty reply. He ordered a caramel milk sweet cake to split between them. "Believe me we'll want to split this if it's anything like I remember. And you taste just fine," he added. "All of you tastes just fine." He gave Dean a leer that roamed up and down his body as he rubbed his leg along Dean's.
"You almost... almost make me want to skip dessert," Dean said, allowing Sam to see the heat in his eyes. It was weird, eating at an intimate restaurant with a male, sharing food, and touching. But he'd said it was a date, and he'd meant it. On the way over in the transport, out of habit he'd started to help Sam buckle up, then he'd almost stopped because he realized Sam didn't need that type of help, but he'd changed his mind and finished the job and leaned in and kissed him.
"What are you thinking?" Dean really wanted to know what lurked beyond those hazel eyes right now.
The look in Dean's eyes warmed him in more ways the one, but his question surprised him. Dean didn't really seem the type to want to know what was going on in someone's head. Unless it dealt with sex. "A lot," Sam admitted. "Taking in everything you've told me, how much I'm enjoying your company, your presence, and just sitting and talking with you. How attractive you look to me...and maybe thinking about getting dessert to go and what fun we could have with it back in your quarters. It would spread nicely over your chest and other... areas. It's got quite a lot of sweet cream with it. What about you?"
"Now?" Dean practically groaned. "Same as you." He glared at Sam and almost told him he had a lot of Sin in him. "We are not having sex in a corridor somewhere on the way home, or in the back of the transport ship." Even as he said the words, he wasn't certain Sam couldn't talk him into something crazy just like that.
"Oh, no. I'd never suggest that. That would be criminal to take the dessert with us and not do it good and proper on a bed. Course if we ate dessert here, then we could, I'm certain, have some fun on the way back to the Galactica." Sam appeared to accidently drop his knife on the floor. As he leaned over to pick it up he reached under the blue tablecloth, stretched out and ran his hand lightly over Dean's groin. He straightened back up, knife in hand. "Dropped my knife," he said innocently.
Dean had leaned forward, eyes wide and just barely preventing himself from reaching under the table. He let out a heavy breath as he tried to control his body's reactions, which was a complete waste of time. "You know, I'm not moving from this chair with a hard on. Keep it up and we may stay here all night." At the same time, he was thinking it was a condition he'd just better get used to. "Now that would be a waste."
"Oh, I bet I could get you to move from that chair," Sam said, a very Sin-like smile pulling at his lips as his eyes danced with mischief and promise.
No, Sam wasn't at all sorry. Dean could see that. Just as the waitress came by, he pulled his chair closer to Sam's as if he was going to whisper in his ear, put his hand on Sam's thigh, rubbing his thumb closer and closer toward his cock. "What were you going to order for us again?" he asked, just as innocently.
If Dean thought a little tease like that could disrupt his train of thought, he was mistaken. "Caramel milk sweet cake," he told the waitress, then looked at Dean as he slid his hand under the table and flat out palmed Dean's cock. "Extra cream," he said still looking at Dean.
Dean quickly gripped Sam's wrist, pulling his hand off his pulsing cock. "Coffee, for me." Sensing that hand would come right back, he threaded their fingers together, and pushed both their hands over Sam's groin. "With cream, lots of it. What do you want, Sam?" he asked, pushing their joined hands down a little harder, though he noticed the waitresses gaze sharpening on them.
"Coffee's good," Sam agreed. He toyed with telling the waitress to skip the cream, they'd have plenty of their own, but thought better of it. While Dean was busy trying to get him distracted with the pressure on his cock, Sam slid his leg a little up Dean's.
After the waitress walked away, Sam looked at Dean, kissed him lightly on the lips, and whispered, "Keep it up and I'll give you a blow job under the table." He smiled at Dean then, letting Dean know he was absolutely serious.
For one, long, crazy centon, Dean was totally thinking about it. A loud whooping, the claxon announcing imminent attack, sounded. Dean was instantly on his feet and found he didn't have to explain since Sam got up at the exact same moment, and both of them raced out of the restaurant and down the corridor toward the docking bay for the transport ship.
It was pure instinct for Sam, so many yahrens of hearing the claxon and immediately dropping whatever he was in the middle of to respond to the alert.
Civilians made way for them, many rushing to get to their families. Others to take up posts. They reached a bottleneck of people, and Dean started to shout at them. "Move, move it, I need to get through. I'm Captain of the Red Squadron, dammit, get out of my way."
With Dean's shout, Sam felt something twist inside him. He wasn't a warrior anymore. He wouldn't be rushing to the flight prep room to slide into the g-suit and pull the uniform over it. He wouldn't be grabbing his helmet from its slot and racing for the lift that carried him down to the flight bay. He wouldn't be leaping into his viper and rocketing down the launch tube. He wouldn't be going out into the fray of battle, firing on those discus shaped enemy ships to save and protect his squadron, his people, his home baseship. ...He wouldn't be risking getting caught and taken prisoner and mind raped and put in cryo.
Blindly he followed Dean, even if it meant going out in a shuttle with no weapons to cross the distance to the battlestar. They were on the shuttle and Dean practical pushed the shuttle pilot out of the chair. Sam settled into the copilot's chair though he made no move to assist. He just needed to be close to Dean.
Cylons. Dean had said the fleet hadn't been attacked in a couple of yahrens. Was this his fault? Did the escape of the human slave raise the attention of the Cylons, make them start hunting for the slave who knew too much about Cylons and the sectors around Thiros. Was this his fault too...?
Barely waiting for the shuttle doors to close, Dean got clearance and had the small craft hurtling through space as fast as it could. He could hear a few people who'd been on the ship buckling up or wondering what was happening. He used the transmitter to let the Galactica know he'd be there in three centons and he meant it, even though the craft wasn't meant for traveling at these speeds and was whining in complaint, as if it was about to explode.
Dean looked over at Sam and saw his face was grim. "Hang on, we'll be there real quick, you'll be fine," he said. Naturally at that exact moment, Cylon ships appeared in a distance. "Sonova..."