Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean, of the clan Winchester and Captain of Red Squadron, was feeling pretty lucky at the moment. Sitting in the shuttle he was captaining, he checked the sensors. Yes! Soon he'd be on approach to Thiros, the gaming and adult sports station. Captain Dean was to check out this sector and see if the nearby planet, Castiel, and several other smaller inhabited planets in the vicinity were good locations for some much needed shore leave and trading. It had been over a yahren since the Battlestar Galactica and the thousands of other ships in the space caravan that was now the 'the last bastion of humanity' had attempted shore leave for hundreds of thousands of people at a time.

There were many who were against the idea, but the reality was that people needed to get off the ships, to walk on land, to feel the wind on their faces and to remember what it was like not to be space-ship bound. Except for those lucky enough to be stationed on the Galactica or some of the larger ships with less dense populations, most of the ships that transported the last vestiges of remaining human society were cramped. Conditions on many ships were worse than at the worst slums on all of the worlds the humans had been gathered from after the Cylons' bid to extinguish all humans.

The rag tag fleet of hundreds of thousands of ships was populated by survivors from the Twelve Colonies, the Rim and outer colonies, and from other places where they managed to find and rescue pockets of humans. Their quest was to find the Thirteenth Tribe... those of their kind that had gone to a place called 'Earth' hundreds of yahrens ago.

In their travels, the fleet had come across small pockets of humans that had settled on other worlds. Their contact with the humans from these settlements often revealed that the settlement also had legends about Earth, some also had legends or even knowledge about the Twelve other Colonies. There were those of their fleet who were tired of the trek across the stars and who chose to stay behind on these worlds. There were also those from the ancient settlement who chose to join the fleet and search for Earth.

Finding humans always encouraged the fleet and its people that they were on the path that had been taken long ago by the Thirteenth Tribe. However, just as the last fleet-wide shore leave had taken place over a yahren ago, it had also been over a yahren now since they had encountered a human settled world or colony. The ships of light had given them a heading for Earth and they stayed resolutely on that heading, but the ships of light had not been seen in three yahrens or more.

Stretching his legs, Dean put his arms behind his head and looked out into open space. Right now, all he had to worry about was making sure this sector was a safe place for the planned shore leave. If he had any hint of Cylon presence or collaboration, he'd pull the plug on the plans. This was his mission, to find out whether it would be too risky to proceed.

Naturally, a stop at the gaming station made sense. There, he could learn about the planet Castiel before going down to explore it. Of course first, being a detail oriented man, he would make a very thorough exploration of Thiros. Every gambling hall. The drinks they offered. The women... definitely, in his search for information, he'd check every dangerous curve he laid his hands on. Some days, it was good, very good to be Captain.

*

The channel he had left open started crackling and he began to hear transmissions, some in foreign tongues which the languatron could translate, and some in the common tongue that he spoke. Looking out the forward window, Dean saw the large bluish planet, and above it, the gleaming silver smudge that had to be the station. A look at his instruments confirmed he'd be there shortly and he took the ship off auto pilot.

When Thiros hailed him, he identified his vessel and got landing authorization. Flipping a switch, he sat back and turned on his music. Oh yeah, let the good times roll.

*

Out of uniform, Dean was dressed in beige pants and a white top with big loose sleeves that narrowed at the cuffs. Over that, he wore a white tunic with beige trimming that laced up the front with suede ties. He not only looked the part of a merchant from the Bellanore quadrant, but he also had a pocket full of their currency, as well as cubits and other coins.

Security was not tight, although he noticed they did scan for weapons. Other than that, all they wanted to know was that you had cash to spend on gaming, whoring, lodging or all of the above. He was covered.

He walked down the metal walkway into the station proper, and suddenly the industrial look disappeared. It was like being in a world made for pleasure, he thought, walking past open doors to bars that were packed with people and entryways marked to tell a passerby what he or she could expect if he walked inside. Games of chance. Sex palaces. Bondage caverns... He did look inside, though as soon as a darkly clad woman with long fingernails crooked her finger at him, he continued on his path. He was curious, but not that curios.

Following the signs to the 'Main Gaming Halls,' he used an express escalator that took him up about six stories. His gaze lingered on the long legs of a woman ahead of him. Her hair reached right past her ass and he was wondering how it might feel wrapped around his fist when she stepped off and a man put his arm around her and they kissed.

There were other fish in the sea. Besides... that blue tinge to her skin didn't do much for him, now that he got a chance to see her from the front. Those sharp teeth not only 'did nothing' but might lead to 'shrinkage.' So yeah, he was glad she had another man to keep her warm.

There were a lot of humanoid looking people on the station, but if you looked closely, something always distinguished them as non-Humans. Then there were the Ovions, insectoids they had encountered on Carillon and periodically in their travels. They gave Dean the willies and always had.

Striding into the large gaming hall, he looked around and immediately went to get some gaming chips. A few centars later, he was sitting at a table with a growing pile of winnings, staring at a hand of triangular cards. "I double the bet," he said, putting the cards face down and leaning back to see what the other players would decide.

"Good luck," a blonde who'd taken up as his 'lucky charm' whispered in Dean's ear, blowing in it. He leaned toward her, but never took his eyes off the other players.

The first player folded while the second nodded and set out the appropriate chips to match Dean's bet. The third and last looked at the large pile then studied Dean. Before him was not nearly enough to cover the bet. He frowned a moment and pulled from his chest pocket a shimmering pearlescent chip. He set it in front of him on the table and looked to see if it acceptable to Dean to match the bet. The player who had folded cursed softly and the second sat up a bit straighter and grinned.

"Is that for Sin?" the female still in the game asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Da," the man said with a nod.

The blonde squeezed Dean's bicep. "Ooooh, nice." She smiled at Dean. "Sin is one of the most popular here. That's a chance to play for Sin. Tough to get into that game."

"Sinning's the name of the game," Dean grinned. He'd seen offers of all sorts of 'package deals.' They all had crazy names that implied one would go to the hells of every world and included large rooms, with massages, food, and drink. Ordinarily he would ask for the exact list of sins he was buying if he accepted the chip but the expressions of the players and his 'companion' told him it was more than enough to cover the bet, and he could sell it or trade it if he won. "Done."

Dean turned his cards over, all three at once, hoping like hell that the one with the pearl chip wasn't beating him.

The man with Sin's pearl chip cursed and turned over his cards. One slot too low to beat the merchant. He pushed his chips over and after pressing his thumb in the center of the pearlescent chip, turning the outer ring from green to red, he handed it to Dean. "Put you mark on it or I guarantee you'll lose that chip before you're ten steps from the table." With a shake of his head he grumbled, "been trying to get into that fracking game for two months. I wish you luck. And if you win, may the wheel bless you and Sin be yours for all night."

The other player wouldn't have beaten either hand and sighed, tossing her cards into the center. She pushed herself to her feet. "You're too lucky for me, merchant. Think I'll try my luck elsewhere."

"Lucky... right." Collecting his winnings, Dean waited to be sure no one else wanted to play before he got up. He did as the player told him and pressed his thumb on the pearl chip until its outer ring glowed green. He'd cash in most of the winnings and then find another game. Looking around he saw that his 'lucky charm' had found another mark to hang all over. He frowned a little, then shrugged it off.

As he stood in line at the cashier, a woman behind him started to chat with him, asking him where he was from. The lies tripped easily off his tongue. He turned his chips in and was still talking to her when the cashier drew his attention.

"This can't be cashed in," she pushed the pearl chip back over to him. "You'll need to play the next round over there," she pointed.

"I want the cash not the..."

"There'll be plenty of people willing to buy it, just go to that area," she told him. "How do you want it?"

"Half and half, cubits and Bellanor gibs." He pocketed the funds, and closed his fist around the pearl chip, occasionally tossing it in the air as he walked toward where this 'sin action' was happening.

*

Sam sat on the elevated stage behind the dealer, Fallori, letting his feet dangle over the edge. The players were gathering for his game and there was already quite a crowd. He laughed to himself. He knew they came for the free show since most of them couldn't hope to afford him. He wondered, as did the entire crowd, how much of a show he would be giving tonight. Everyone loved the Night of the Wheel. He could be doing anything from stripping and dancing, to masturbating, to giving each of the players lap dances between hands. And then who ever won, it was up to the wheel how much time they got with him. The minimum was two centars, but the wheel was mostly filled with four centar slots. There were a few six centars, two eight centars, and then the real megawin. Not only did they get him for the whole night, they got him for two centars another night and a pearl chip to play in this game again. The megawin for him had only occurred twice since he'd been here. It was definitely winning the jackpot as far as the patrons were concerned.

He knew one reason he was so popular was because he was unique. He was the only one of his race on the entire station. He hadn't even seen another human since he arrived and there might not be any within uncountable light years of Thiros Station. That Sam was able to make love to almost any race, though there were a few that weren't really compatible, made him that much more valuable. Even if he wasn't compatible, he still had the knack for giving almost anyone pleasure. Cayden, the Overseer, made sure if an incompatible was in the game, certain rules were understood and certain agreements marked. Sam was priceless as far as the station was concerned and they made sure he was well fed and well tended. There were a few of the players that liked it rough, or wanted to be rough with Sam. For enough money, they could have what they wanted, so long as he wasn't permanently damaged. He despised those customers, he had enough bad dreams without their help. Fortunately those customers were few and far between. Most gambled for him because it was something to boast about, having had Sin make love to them. Well, that and the fact that according to the patrons at least, he was the best pleasure slave in the sector.

Three of the players had arrived. He waved at Bistronea Deon. She was a Tanis, a felinoid with beautiful markings of tan and dark brown and green eyes like emeralds. The males bordered on being incompatible, but the females weren't. They were just very enthusiastic lovers and if she won him he really hoped she didn't get him for longer than four centars though he certainly enjoyed her company. She was a great lover, generally managed to keep her claws in, but he had his limits on how many times he could come in a night and she didn't. The next was a Caitrin female, tall and willowy with pale lavender hair and skin that was nearly white. Sam didn't know her but saw her male sibling Zathon nearby he gave a nod to Sam. Sam knew many of Zathon's sibs and had made love to a handful of them. Based upon the deep purple robe she wore, she was a virgin. He winked at her and blew her a kiss, delighted when she giggled and blushed. Caitrins had such beautiful voices, he loved drawing forth sounds of pleasure from them. And a virgin! He was deeply honored that Zathon had brought her here because that meant Zathon wanted Sam to instruct her in how to pleasure her future mates. He couldn't help but hope she would get a longer time slot or even the whole night if she won him. The third player was Marchielle, a wiry man with black hair, and a Stiroban, a six-fingered race not fully compatible. Oh, felgercarb. Marchielle liked bondage and whips and he was one of the ones Sam despised of all his returning patrons. He looked around hunting for the fourth and finally spotted...him. He was dressed like a merchant, maybe from the Bellanore guild. He studied the man, trying to identify his race. He watched the man's movements, studied his hair, counted his fingers, looked at his face, his ears, everything.

Huh. His identifying racial features must be hidden underneath his clothes. He was probably Danobin or Ch'sen. They made decent lovers, so that would be fine. Grinning at the newcomer and showing off his straight white teeth and dimples, he waved the man to the empty seat. "Welcome to the table of Sin, Merchant."

"More like sin city," Dean answered, grinning back. He started to pull his gaze away, then did a double take. Very slowly, he studied the guy's face, his posture and the way he was swinging his legs. Huh. He wondered what species lived in this quadrant. He was a dead ringer for human, which was unlikely. Right? Licking his lips, Dean approached him. "You playing too?"

The crowd around Dean laughed and Sam grinned. The man had absolutely no idea who he was. Most definitely a first timer, and he must have won his chip from another gambler. "We all play here. Some just more than others," he said, looking down at the man, grinning. What race was he? Sam continued to wonder since even this close he was not finding anything that identified the merchant's race. He smiled at the man and leaned a little closer. "Now we can't start until you sit down and ante up your chip," he almost whispered as he motioned to the empty chair. "Don't you want to see who wins Sin tonight?"

"I think I'd like to know what kinda sin it is I'm winning tonight, but like you said, they're waiting." Seeing that the man wasn't going to play, he headed for the one empty place and sat. Spinning the pearl chip on the table, he watched it roll to the rest of the bets, and fall onto its side. He motioned to a cocktail waitress and asked for a buzzer to drink.

Sam had to bite back his laugh. This man had no idea that he was 'Sin.' He wondered if the man even liked to have sex with other men. Wouldn't that just be a kick. It had been an even longer time since he had had the chance to convince a man who had never had sex with a man to let Sam make love to him. And this man was finer than fine to look at. At this point though, the man had committed himself. He had handed over the chip. He could intentionally lose, but if he won Sam, Sam was his for however long the wheel said.

Fallori, the dealer, broke open two new decks of cards and she shuffled them thoroughly. The crowd had already begun to chant, "Wheel, wheel, wheel."

Smiling, she turned to the wheel and looked up at Sam. "Ready?"

"Gimme a sweet one, Fallori. It's a rowdy crowd tonight."

She laughed. "It's always a rowdy crowd on the Night of the Wheel." She took hold of the wheel and spun it. The flapper rattled against the pins as the wheel spun fast and hard. The wheel finally began slowing, the clack-clack-clack getting slower and slower until it came to rest on the number seven.

"Seven," Fallori said to him and ran her finger over a button by the wheel. The music began and Sam pulled his feet up onto the stage. A dance it was.

He laid flat and did a pushup, then kicked off so he was doing a handstand. He dropped and rolled up to his feet and began gyrating his hips as he grinned at the cat calls and whistles and shouts. He began to slowly undo his shirt as he danced on the stage. He finally had his shirt open and, picking up an aromatic oil, drizzled it over his chest. Slowly caressing himself, he rubbed it in, running his fingers around his nipples until they were tight nubs, letting the crowd hear his moan. He placed one finger in his mouth and began pushing it in and out as he stroked himself through the pants he wore. He met the eyes of each of the players as Fallori dealt out their cards.

At first, Dean kept looking away. But sometime, somewhere along the line, he found himself watching with fascination, until the guy's eyes met his and the jolt of unexpected heat had him dragging his eyes away. Letting out a breath, he focused on the cards, muttering under his breath. "Who is paying him to be distracting? It's called cheating." The women at the table seemed mesmerized by the dance, as was the other man.

Fallori laughed at the merchant. "It's part of the stakes, sir. Keeping your mind on your cards while imagining what pleasures Sin will offer. And believe me, Sin is worth every coin you've paid."

Sam loved the almost flush he brought to the stranger. He couldn't deny that he hoped the new one won him. He was really intrigued, wanting to know the man's race, and then it was obvious the man was shy, or maybe a virgin lover when it came to the same sex. Oh, this could be a very exciting night. He didn't often get anything truly new and interesting in his life. This one had potential. He decided to give the man a little extra attention and put on a bit more of a show than a seven really earned. He took hold of his shirt and with a sharp tug, tore it in half, letting the two halves slide down his arms. He tossed the first half out to the crowd between the two women, then the second half he tossed right behind the merchant. He ran his hands suggestively over his body, fingers running along the troughs between the muscles of his hard body then up to his neck and over his face.

He slid his hand down the front of his pants and moaned loudly. When the merchant looked up, Sam met his gaze with his most intense seductive look and stroked himself a little harder and gave a few sharp thrusts, as if in promise of what he would offer the merchant if he won him.

Dean gave an embarrassed grin, feeling all of the attention, not just from the dancer, but from the crowd. Keep it up, this isn't going to change the fact that I'm gonna win. This time, he forced himself to hold the man's eyes, challenging him, telling him he and his cohorts... be it the house, or one of the players, were not going to pull one over on him.

He motioned for his cards, breathing a sigh of relief when the man turned away and he could look down.

The look the man gave Sam burned through him and he stroked himself just a little more than he might have otherwise. Oh, yes, he wanted that one to win him tonight. With that in mind, Sam made sure to pay a little extra attention to each of the other players. There were time limits on turns and he watched as the Tanis almost didn't make a discard, and even then, made it somewhat in haste. He had to keep his attention balanced though or he would be disciplined. He pulled his hand out and turned around, bending over and wiggling his butt, and after caressing his cheeks through the cloth, ran his hands under the cloth, kneading the muscles there. He slowly peeled off the outer layer of the pants. He had a lighter, thinner pair of pants on that fit him like a second skin. He dropped his pants behind Fallori, and he heard the disappointed cry from the crowd.

The sound from the crowd had Dean looking back again. Okay, he'd never before thought the sight of a man gyrating could be sexy. Well this one proved him wrong. Very wrong, though he had a better time of keeping his mind on the game than some of the others, it seemed.

The music slowed and Sam switched over to a more sensual dance, throwing in some martial arts kata that he had learned in his youth, carefully holding each form, flexing his muscles and adding in some slow moving gymnastics. He took the time to note that the new merchant seemed to be doing rather well.

As the chips in the center of the table, all but the pearl ones, were pushed to his side, Dean thought the guy really deserved a tip. When whoever was paying him lost, Dean might give the guy that tip. The dance had subtly changed. Some of those moves were... they were familiar. A frown marred Dean's forehead, but he came to his senses quickly enough to make a decision on which card he would discard.

A little clapping had him nodding, but every once in a while, his gaze was drawn back. Kata... that's what those moves reminded him of. Could the man be human? Dean watched with an interest of a different sort.

The game was winding down to the last few hands and the music faded. Sam gave a bow to the crowd and then sat cross legged, watching the final decisions being made and the final cards being dealt. It looked like it was going to be between Bistronea and the stranger, but there could always be an upset at the last micron.

Dean let out a sigh of relief. He could worry about where the man came from later. First he wanted to hang onto his money, and second he wanted to win the sin package. Losing wasn't something he liked. Focusing solely on the game, he mentally calculated the risks. The man sitting across from him looked sure. Very sure of his cards. Dean's were... iffy.

Without counting his chips, he pushed a whole tower to the center. When the man met his bet without blinking, and one of the women folded with a sigh, Dean counted out three cards, and tossed them to the dealer. "Change."

When the dealer gave him fresh cards, and his opponent wanted none, Dean lifted the bottle of buzzer and took a long drink. Then, without looking at the cards, he shoved the rest of his chips forward, signaling the two original cards were strong. His eyes never wavered from the watery blue eyes in front of him, but he felt the weight of another gaze from the stage and was all too aware of it.

Sam felt his stomach clench. Frack. It looked like it might be between the stranger and Marchielle. The Caitrin had folded and Bistronea looked decidedly undecided about whether to wager or not. She finally shook her head, whiskers curling forward and she tossed her cards in, giving a lingering look at Sam. That the stranger traded out some cards and then didn't even check what he got was almost unsettling. There were only a few hands that could be that strong, or he could be bluffing. If he was bluffing and was wrong, he was going to lose a lot of money. The house got a cut of the winnings of course and with that much on the table, Cayden was going to be a very happy overseer no matter who won. If Marchielle won, he would have to pay even more to be permitted to have Sam the way he preferred because after Marchielle, Sam wouldn't be able to work for a few days. His eyes were locked on the stranger. He begged silently, hoping that the man had the hand he pretended.

Dean rubbed his chin. "I call." He opened one of his originally closed cards. It had two bars and three dots. He flipped the second one over, and it was a match.

The man, Marchielle, didn't appear happy, but he knew, like everyone else that Dean had no idea if he'd managed to draw another matching card. He turned over his own five cards, he hadn't exchanged any, revealing four matching cards of a lower number and suit... but he would win unless the merchant had another matching card. "Withdraw and take half the money, I get the human," he offered.

The offer had sounded good until the Stirobon used the word human. "What human?" he asked.

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or not. The merchant didn't know what he had been playing for. When he found out, Sam suspected that would be the end of it and Marchielle would have him. Frack, frack, frack.

Fallori smiled at Dean. "Sin, of course," she said and glanced up at Sam who managed a smile. "The only human in the sector. Possibly the only human within parsecs. We've not had a human pass through here in yahrens. That's why he is so valuable. He is unique."

"Sin is a person..." Stopping, Dean's gaze darted to the man who'd danced for them. So he hadn't been on anyone's side, he was the prize? Strange, how he was thinking that the man's voice was melodic and pleasant, when they'd only exchanged a few words, and this... Sin... he must have internally been laughing at Dean's ignorance about the prize.

Their gazes locked, and he didn't understand what was in the depths of Sin's eyes. It was something different than the flirtatious heated looks from earlier. Human. Dean looked at his opponent. Ordinarily, he'd have withdrawn. Not to save the money, but because he didn't believe in slavery on principle. "I'm in."

Sam was surprised the merchant stayed in. If he took Marchielle's offer, he would have easily come out ahead financially. Perhaps Sam had misread him. Perhaps he wasn't a virgin when it came to men...but Sam didn't think that was why the stranger stayed in and risked it all. Sam had kept his eyes neutral even though he wanted nothing more than to silently plead with the man to win him. The nightmares he always had were so much worse after a night with Marchielle. As final money was on the table there was no reason to flirt with either player and therefore he was not permitted to show any favoritism.

A hush fell over the crowd. Dean reached out, flipped a card. Two dots. Internally, he cursed, but didn't show his worries. He flipped the next card. One bar and two dots, shit. He lifted his gaze to his opponent. "Withdraw and take half the money, I get Sin," he offered.

There was laughter, not only from his opponent, but also from within the crowd. Closing his eyes, he hoped lady fortune was with him still... Reaching out, he turned the card over.

Dean didn't look at the card, he was looking at his opponent looking down at the cards and saw the man blanch. It was only then that he let out his breath, and sat back against the chair.

Relief filled Sam. No Marchielle. Of course, who knew, the stranger could be ten times worse. Sam moved to the edge of the stage, laying on his stomach and cradling his chin on the back of his hands. He gave the man his most mischievous look. "Now let's see how long you own Sin tonight, merchant with nerves of a M'cktau."

He didn't know why but the 'human's' antics made him want to laugh. Course Dean knew the guy was a trained entertainer and was probably skilled in giving anyone that 'feel good' feeling, it came with the territory.

Sam gave a nod to Fallori. She made a small show of it, first running a scanner over the pile of chips. The amount of Dean's winnings showed on the screen just below Sam. The crowd gasped and murmured. That was one of the highest pots in a long time. The number decreased and the amount of the house's take showed below the new total. Sam pulled himself over the edge to look at the numbers. Oh, Cayden was going to be very happy indeed. The number was well above the threshold so that even Sam would see money out of it, a decent amount of money. It was enough he could even buy himself an extra night off if that's the way he wanted to spend it. He would make sure this merchant had the best night of his life because he definitely wanted to see this daring gambler back at his table again.

Dean stood up, his eyes on the wheel.

Fallori took hold of the wheel and spun it hard. Sam held his breath. Let the man win him for at least six centars so he could truly show the man he was worth every cubit or gib or draul he had spent. The wheel finally slowed. Lights and sounds erupted suddenly from the wheel when it came to a stop. Megawin!

"You are indeed a lucky man!" Fallori exclaimed. She took the pearl chip that Dean had used to get into the game and put it on the table in front of him alongside a voucher for his winnings.

Sam grinned, did a handstand and flipped so he landed lightly on his feet on the game floor. All other patrons no longer existed for him. The merchant was his sole focus. He slunk up to the man and fell to his knees before him, but his eyes never wavered from the man's face. Taking the merchant's hand he brought it to his lips, kissing its palm and tickling the hollow of the hand with his tongue.

"Ah..." It was unusual for Dean to stand there speechless, but getting his palm tongued by a man in front of an audience did just that. His fingers seemed to curl around Sin's hand of their own accord and he took a deep breath.

"I am yours until morning light. Twelve centars of Sin and ultimate pleasure," he promised in a silken tone. "Let us retire to the Hatori suite where a heated bath awaits you and where I will massage your tense muscles and you can tell Sin of your deepest desires, desires I promise will come to fruition."

"Sin and ultimate pleasure," Dean nodded, his own eyes filling with amusement now. He gave a low laugh and started to pull Sin up. "Come on, get up." Yeah, they were drawing a bit of a crowd, something he didn't need. As soon as the tall, bare chested man got up, Dean started to lead him out of the area, his eyes widening as he felt Sin's arm slip around his waist. Really should have expected that one.

Once they were away from those congratulating him, Dean turned to talk to Sin and found his lips only inches from his own. Clearing his throat, he moved his face so he was close to Sin's ear. "You really human?"

Sam breathed in the man's scent. Pleasant. Vaguely...familiar. He couldn't place the specific smell that tried to tickle its way to the surface of his memories. Probably a cologne or soap he had smelled on another of his customers at some point. Obviously a customer he should remember if the scent had enough of an impact for him to recall it. He started to lean forward and kiss the man when instead the man was whispering in his ear. Yes, a question he had heard before. 'Are you really human? I hear humans can do this or do that' The rumors were often very entertaining. He had come to the conclusion few races who passed through here had any clue what a human was or wasn't. Humans were simply different and therefore exotic and everyone liked exotic.

"False advertising would be bad for business," Sam said, twisting his head so their lips were once again close. "I am human. And you? What race are you?"

"Human," Dean answered. It was only after the word left his lips that he kicked himself for it. It had been yahrens since they'd found humans during their quest through the galaxies, and too often those they thought were human were Cylon tricks, androids and the like. But this... this felt real. And something else felt real too. The heat flooding his system from being too close. "Ah..."

The merchant's answer was not unexpected. It wasn't necessarily a common answer but one he had heard from those who looked very close to human at first glance. They wanted to be unique, too, or pretend to offer Sam something he hadn't had in yahrens. Another human to touch.

Sam ran his fingers down the side of the handsome man's face. "Oh sweetheart, trust me, you don't want to be human. You'll end up with one of these," he touched the leather like collar around his throat, "on you. You saw my price and that could have been for a mere two centars of my time instead of all night. If you wish to be human, of course you can be, the customer is always right but," and he winked at Dean, "you best pretend you're not. Say you're Danobin or Ch'sen when they ask. Mmmm, yes Danobin fits you best I think. You have eyes like a Danobin."

Dean didn't really know whether Sin was giving him a warning or really thinking he was scamming or something. His gut said it was a combo of both, but before he could question, they were joined by another man.

"Lord Dean," Overseer Cayden said, smiling, showing his slightly fanged teeth. "Welcome, welcome and congratulations on winning our very best servicer and our very best package. I am Overseer Cayden." He gave a slight bow. "I see that you are new to experiencing this area of servicing, your name is not in our database. As such, I must tend to a few minor details, I won't keep you long, and trust that your time with number sixty-nine," he indicated Sam, "with 'Sin' as he is best known, will not start until these details have been handled." He bowed slightly again. "Sin is our most valuable of servicers and as such, we must be concerned about his welfare. Some minor bruises are acceptable, such things do happen, but if you are interested in utilizing additional accoutrements to enhance your pleasure, we must know this so we can provide them to you. Any such accoutrements that might damage this exquisite piece of flesh beside you, that will cost extra. Any damage above and beyond the normal, that too will cost extra and we need to be made aware of such desires now. We also need to know what race you are so we are certain you are compatible or if any adjustments and accoutrements do need to be offered to make your servicer as compatible to your racial heritage as possible. And to ease your mind, all of our servicers are free of any diseases and fully vaccinated. Unprotected sex is, as such, permitted." The man smiled at Dean and tilted his head waiting for the customer's response.

When Dean turned his head to look at the overseer, Sin nuzzled his ear gently, knowing just where the spots on a Danobin's ears were most sensitive and focusing his attentions there.

Feeling Sin's hot breaths against his ear, Dean lost his outrage and had something new to focus on. His eyes closed for a moment, then he pulled away slightly, hoping for his brain to fucking unfreeze. Yeah, he'd been around the 'verse. There was slavery everywhere. But hearing Sin spoken about like he was a piece of meat to be bartered... and really, knowing it wasn't Sin that would profit from it but his owner, it had Dean's blood boiling. Especially if he was dealing with a human here.

Taking a breath, he forced himself to be civil. "I'm... Danobin, and I don't need any... toys, thanks... I think." Making a face, he put his arm around Sin, "twelve centars, starting now." He just wanted the man to buzz off, and this seemed the best way to do it. And no, the warmth of Sin's body was not affecting him.

The Overseer gave a few more bits of advice and then left them alone.

Dean turned and then suddenly found Sin plastered to him. "Ah... you don't have to do this, seriously." He dug into his pocket, found the smooth round chip, pulled it out and pressed it into Sam's palm.

Sam felt the chip placed in his hand as he began to work on the Danobin's neck. He didn't bother to look at it. "You can provide any tips to Overseer Cayden, but tips are not necessary." He straightened and looked into the merchant's eyes. "Come, let me take you to the suite. There you will find the best food available, drinks of all manner, a steaming salt bath and a place I can massage you and make love to you. The view is beautiful and there is a large comfortable bed. If anything is missing that you require, it will be provided." He worked the chip back into the man's pocket and let his hand drift over the man's groin after pulling his hand free. He paused a moment, a slight frown creasing his brow. The man's member didn't feel Danobin. Well, he certainly wasn't going to point out any sexual defect the man might have and quickly hid his surprise. With his reaction he would need to reassure the man any physical defect made no matter to him. He ran his hand up between the shirt and over shirt caressingly. "What do you desire, Lord Dean?"

His mouth was hanging open. Again. He'd definitely felt the caress... definitely, though it had been over in a micron. If he were the sort of guy that talked to his cock, he'd tell it to calm the hell down. His heart was acting weird, hammering against his chest and Sin's hand on him wasn't helping any. "It's not like that." Dean pulled away before he was driven crazy and took a deep breath. "Can we... can we just find a place and talk?" He licked his lips. "I want to know some things." Not wanting to give Sin a chance to argue, he grabbed his arm. "Over there, let's go get a table near the bar."

Sam had to admit, he was more than a little baffled. He hadn't had a customer want to delay going to the luxury suite except that one gambler who wanted to spend more time at the tables while his luck was 'hot.' He had Sam suck him off at the tables while he played. Sam had given plenty of blow jobs in public, but usually those were the mini-auctions and that was what they had won. This merchant wanted to talk? Well, Sam was well versed in almost any topic and some clients liked mental stimulation or preferred 'getting to know' him before the sex.

"Whatever you desire, Lord Dean, I am here to serve." He let Dean lead him over to a table, deftly avoiding a few patrons who attempted a free touch. He was Dean's to touch now and no others’. He settled gracefully into the chair Dean pointed to. Bottles of buzzers were brought immediately to the table. Apparently that was the merchant's drink of choice earlier. Pity. He would have preferred something stronger.

"All food and drink are free to you while I am yours. We have anything you might want. Danobin fire-wine, Snowden, white ice..." He brightened. Yes, this man wanted to pretend to be human. Who knew what he might know of humans. "Being human, perhaps you would prefer grog or ambrosa? There are bottles of ambrosa available to you that are over three hundred yahren old. You'll find nothing older or finer." Sam ran his hand over a light cube and the table illuminated softly. Sam pointed at the table where pictures of various food dishes were being displayed. "Would you like to eat while we talk?"

Sitting down next to Sin, he shook his head. "It's just Dean, drop the 'Lord' alright? And I don't want anything, listen." He knew this was the routine, Sin was trying to make him comfortable, and advising him of what was available, but he wasn't here for that. "Sin..." Feeling too many eyes on them, he lowered his voice and leaned in. "Are you from Earth? An Earthling?" he asked, searching Sin's face to see if the word made any sort of impact. Most had never heard of Earth.

Earth...that name held a vague recollection for Sam, something from when he was younger when he was at the academ...he slammed that line of thought down immediately. He scooted a little closer to Dean. "I can be from anywhere you'd like."

Dean found a warm thigh pressed tightly against his and then Sin's hand dropped down over his thigh as he leaned in. Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean's mind registered how good Sin smelled. He slapped his hand over Sin's, and leaned in closer. "Earth?" he asked again, his voice a little husky.

Sam smiled when the merchant's hand came to rest on top of his, stopping him from caressing and investigating further. "Shy?" Sam whispered. "I can do shy." He smile turned to a grin and finally he let the old rhyme that the word 'Earth' had invoked out. He didn't need to remember where he learned it. He could push that aside. He had to if he was going to keep his sanity.

"The many shall go forth in time, And many long shall search, And one shall find a garden, in the rolling hills of Earth," Sam sang softly. He gave a shrug. "Earth."

Hearing the passage from The Book Of The Word, Dean's gaze sharpened. There would be no better way to lure a human these days but if Sin was for real, the ramifications were... "Let's go to the room, do this there," he said. "And order ambrosa... or whatever you like, something strong." If what Sin said was true, he was getting the man off the station and to the fleet. But first, he had to be sure, and a little drinking would help loosen the guy's tongue and maybe have him not thinking too clearly about the answers he gave.

Getting up, he kept his grip on Sin's hand, crowding him as they walked away from the bar. He could see envy in the eyes of those they passed, and found himself putting an arm around Sin. "You're either really something or your PR people do an awesome job of it."

Sam was pleased by the reaction he got from this client and especially pleased at the thought of ambrosa. Ambrosa relaxed most humanoids and after a few drinks he could start getting the man to relax and enjoy the evening. If the man wanted to play human Sam was more than fine with that. Better than some other role-plays he'd been forced into in the past. The sudden possessiveness he felt from the man when Dean placed his arm around him pleased him as well.

"I'm really something," Sam whispered, "and I promise you, you'll come to agree before night's end. In the future you may fall asleep in another's arms but you will always think of and remember Sin."

Sam led him to the lifts and ordered it to their suite. He always had a nice suite for his clientele, but he didn't get the Hatori suite unless someone purchased him for the entire night, assuming someone else hadn't already claimed the suite. With the Megawin, though, the Hatori suite was his, no matter if it had been previously booked or not.

As soon as they stepped into the suite, Sam took a deep breath of the refreshing smells of sea and rain, and subtle scents of tropical flowers. He felt himself relax almost immediately, enjoying the scents that would please a Danobin. Dean had grown a little tense and Sam had sensed his impatience on the ride up to the suite. Good. Once they were out of view of others, perhaps the man would not be so shy. "Computer, Lord Dean requests ambrosa, the finest the station has. Victuals of Natari fruit, daeson cake with spice icing, roast trellis fledgling, stuffed." He turned toward Dean and began unlacing his vest. "Also some fried red tubers. End request." He hadn't finished unlacing the vest yet but stepped in close and kissed Dean lightly on the lips, once, twice, three times, each time his kiss lingering a bit longer.

Dean was on board with the liquor and food orders but looked down at Sin's hands unlacing his tunic. He started to pull away, but was ambushed again, this time by a pair of warm lips sliding over his, at first soft as a whisper, then lingering. Lips parting, Dean moved on auto pilot, placing his hand at the back of Sin's head and kissing him again, this time pushing his tongue inside Sin's mouth, stroking his palette, then tangling his tongue with Sin's. Sin's response drew a soft moan from him, one that snapped Dean out of the moment and had him pulling away.

Sam liked the almost immediate response he got from the man. The merchant was aggressive and liked to take control, so he would make sure he led the man down that path, starting things that the man could then take over. And the man was a good kisser, too. This might be a very enjoyable night indeed, and so different from how it could have been if Marchielle had won him.

Being sure to keep Dean's focus elsewhere, he continued to unlace the man's vest. He got the last lace undone just as the man groaned with pleasure. He bit back a sound of complaint when the man suddenly pulled away. Frack. Maybe the man was shy even in here. He stared into those gorgeous eyes and waited patiently for Dean to start kissing him, or explain, or tell him what he wanted next.

Dean's mouth burned. His body ached to pull Sin close. "I..." he swallowed. "Look, I wasn't expecting to 'win' you. I don't... not very often with guys." He'd had a few experiences, more because partner swapping and group sex was involved. "Maybe we can do a little, you know, talking?"

Not a virgin. Frack. He had rather hoped to be the one to de-flower the man. Still, Dean seemed to be a nervous and inexperienced lover as far as same sex love went. Sam slipped the vest off the man's shoulders. "So I gathered. I'm very glad you did. You are handsome," he said placing his palm against Dean's cheek and running his thumb over his lips. "You have soft and sensual lips, and eyes I could drown in. I don't usually see such depth of emotion in a merchant's eyes."

Leading Dean over to an overstuffed couch that would open up into a bed, he gently pushed Dean down onto it. "It's okay to be nervous. We can go as slowly as you want." He knelt in front of Dean and began pulling off his boots. "So Dean, what would you like to talk about? Don't be embarrassed to tell me your fantasies. I can give you most any fantasy you desire." Teasingly he added, "You should see me in drag. They say I'm prettier than some of the females here. Now if you're looking for short, well," he looked at Dean through his long lashes, "I can just stay on my knees for you." He pursed his lips ever so slightly, only long enough to hopefully put thoughts in Dean's head of what his lips could do for him.

Even as he laughed, Dean stopped Sin from taking his boots off. He really couldn't imagine this guy in drag, and the knees comment, well it was probably having just the affect he intended since Dean felt his cheeks and neck growing warm. "Sit," he moved over. "I mean on the couch. And ah... you don't have to do any of this... this... you know, 'your eyes sparkle like the stars and lips are like flowers' thing. Just sit here, let's talk."

The blush that colored the merchant's cheeks was just too endearing. Women were much more likely to blush in his experience. In speaking with his female co-workers, they argued the reverse was true, so Sam assumed it was simply easier to get the opposite sex to blush. Danobins though...their blush was more purple, not pink like this man's. Odd, he mused but thought little more of it. He had seen many unusual things here. Immediately rising, he sat down next to the man. "Why wouldn't I want to do this? I'm looking forward to kissing you, to touching you and exciting you, to having you inside me when you come."

A knock sounded and then a woman walked inside, rolling a tray of drinks and food right next to them. Opening the covers of the food, she left quietly.

Dean immediately reached for the drink. "I got it," he said, seeing Sin try to do 'his duty.' He poured two glasses of the ambrosa and gave one to Sin. "Tell me about yourself. When did you get here, to the station?"

Occasionally people asked him about himself, about his past. He accepted the ambrosa and sipped it, closing his eyes in pleasure as he held the wonderful drink in his mouth before finally swallowing. "Mmm, nothing like good ambrosa." He leaned back and studied the merchant. Under all that flowing fabric was a hard, muscular body and he was looking forward to getting that shirt off of him and getting him in the jet-bath, or giving him a massage.

"There is no time before I was here," Sam said. He touched the collar around his throat. "Once a slave, or once sold to a new owner, little of the before times may be discussed if those times are even remembered. I have been here a few yahrens. This place is much better than where I was before. With a few rare exceptions, the days here are definitely better. I have fine clothing, excellent food and drink, and you've seen the patrons of Thiros. This is a holiday spot, a resort, a place for people to forget their troubles and laugh and enjoy themselves. I get to help them enjoy themselves. I am one of the station's most treasured possessions and they treat me as such. I have been well educated in almost all the races that pass through here. I am aware of histories and current politics, movies and sports. At least those that are most popular." He grinned. "I spend a good portion of my time when I am not giving pleasure staying abreast of such things so if someone wishes to talk," he took another sip of his drink, looking over the rim at Dean, "I can talk about whatever they desire. I am also trained in a few different instruments and can sing and dance."

Every time the word "desire" passed Sin's lips, Dean's stomach muscles tensed. Concentrating was a lot harder than it should be. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Sin came with some sort of... hypnosis or something.

"So tell me Dean, where do you come from? What is your life like?"

"My life's not all that exciting. You know, sit around, sell stuff, watch the digital movement of the chronometer," he shrugged. "I've come to investigate business opportunities on the planet Castiel. Tell me, is there a lot of Cylon activity in the area? I haven't noticed any and ah... I do like to keep a low profile where they're concerned."

Sam listened with interest but when Dean said 'Cylon' his breath simply locked up in his chest.

Dean thought Sin might be getting tense and it was not unexpected given the subject. "Have some more," he suggested, touching his glass to Sin's and lifting it to his lips.

The clink of the glasses shook Sam out of his frozen state. He took a drink as Dean suggested and forced himself to stay under control and keep the shake out of his hands. He took a second drink then and wondered if he had managed not to pale. He suspected not. People rarely spoke so bluntly of the Cylons. Some of his customers had bragged to him of dealings and some had spoken of the Cylons with distaste but no one asked about them. "Business opportunities. Castiel. Uh, yes. There are. I am not permitted to give references. It would depend upon what sort of business transactions you have in mind as to whether there might be anything of interest."

Dean nodded, his question had been very general and hard to answer.

He knew he shouldn't say anything about what he knew of the Cylons but he liked Dean and wanted to see him come back. So he would offer up a small bit of advice, though he knew he was walking in dangerous territory. "Cy-Cylons. They...they sometimes pass through. Not them actually, but those who work for them. I wouldn't recommend discussing any business dealings with the Zindos or Mallocks. They would be the most likely to have close ties. The Tanis don't like the Cylons. You should probably ask among them for more information." Seeing Dean's slight confusion at the names of races, Sam elaborated. "Zindos, they are humanoid. Overseer Cayden, he is Zindos. Mallocks. They are reptilian, brown in color, somewhat short. You probably saw them in the gambling dens but they rarely partake of the pleasure slaves. The Ovions too. They're insectoids. If it's to their advantage, they'll deal with the Cylons. Tanis. Felinoid. You played against one for me."

"I know the Ovions," Dean nodded. "They're just like you say." Unfortunately, it was sounding like shore leave here was not a good idea. Better to know than to be surprised, that's why he was here scouting. He tried to keep his mind on what they were talking about but kept having it wander on him. Leaning over to the table, he snagged a couple of snacks, trying them before whole heartedly popping them into his mouth.

After taking another drink, Sam continued. "Cylons are not generally well liked among the humanoids though you never know who might deal with them. They can offer things many others cannot and at good prices since they care little for profit...I would suggest steering clear of lambda sector if you wish to stay off of their screens. I know nothing else," Sam said. He knew a lot more, but that was all he was going to say on the subject. "Would you...would you like to bathe now? Or eat?" Sam asked hopefully. He really didn't want more conversation at this point. He wanted to forget anything and everything he could about the Cylons and hoped his answers had been enough for the merchant.

"Thanks for the scoop, it's helpful." Dean raised the glass to his mouth and took a drink. "Is there something in the ambrosa?" When he looked at Sin, he found himself focusing on his lips, and dragged his gaze up. Well that didn't help, not when he was refocusing first on his eyes, and now on the column of his throat, and wanting to look lower. He licked his lips, knowing the idea of a bath should be discarded at once.

"Something in the ambrosa?" Sam asked and shook his head. "That would be a crime to ruin it with anything. Of course not." He saw that Dean was beginning to relax and the way Dean's eyes began to rake over him. The pulse at Dean's neck was definitely beginning to increase in rhythm. "We do have a variety of legal drugs if you are interested in such enhancements."

Sam edged closer to Dean. He was long used to the scents the room was filled with, scents that would awaken the libidos of whatever race he was with. Danobi pheromones spiced the air and other gentler gasses would enhance the client's experience, adding depth and texture to the smells. That was, of course, part of the package Dean had won. He let his hand drift over Dean's chest, caressing and rubbing. Finding one of Dean's nipples he brushed over it with his fingers then circled around it, wishing Dean would let him undress him. Encouragement was definitely in order.

He didn't want any drugs. It's just he felt... Dean's gaze lifted to Sin's when he felt his hand on his chest. "I..."

Leaning closer, Sam kissed Dean again, parting his lips so Dean could take control of the kiss immediately. His free hand went to the merchant's back and rubbed in small circles before beginning to play with the hair at the base of Dean's neck.

"Sin..." he whispered against the guy's lips, trying to resist but suddenly unable to think of a single reason why he had to stop. "Mmm," he started to kiss Sin back, gently at first, experimenting. Firm, defined male lips, soft and silky, moved against Dean's mouth. Sin was responding to his every touch, with no hesitation, like he knew how Dean wanted to kiss him and where he wanted to be touched.

The sudden change in Dean reminded Sam of how Sam had responded when yahrens ago, he'd first been exposed to the Danobi pheromones. Once they discovered his susceptibility to the pheromones, they'd used it to train him in the pleasure giving arts. Even now, unless it bothered a client's race, he always had the pheromones in his suite when he serviced because with the pheromones, he could go all night long and keep up with even the most enthusiastic of clients, no matter their race. Tanis notwithstanding. Fortunately most actual Danobins did not affect him as such. These pheromones came from their joiners, the third in the trio needed in order to conceive.

Arching against the man, brushing his fingers in all the right places, Sam could tell the merchant's desire was slowly heightening. It certainly wouldn't be the first time a shy client suddenly found their inhibitions lowered by the scents piped in to the room, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time Sam had his pants ripped off of him. He wouldn't be at all surprised if that happened this time. Maybe he would encourage that as well. Danobins were close to humans in structure and sexual organs. He hadn't had a really good wild bit of lovemaking with someone who was fully compatible in a while. This merchant was wholly delicious and though he might be near virginal when it came to making love to a man, it was looking more and more like he was well experienced otherwise.

Heat turned to fire, and Dean pulled Sin into his arms, enveloping him in a tight embrace as he deepened the kiss, weaving his tongue in and out of the wet heat of his mouth. Sin's hot breaths fanned out over his cheeks, kicking Dean's lust up a notch. He moved his palm along Sin's side, over rippling muscles, down to his thigh, then back up, mapping the hard planes of his stomach, groaning as he fought the need to sweep his hand down lower, to find out what was under the thin material of Sin's pants.

When he needed to breathe, his mouth slipped off Sin's. He dipped his head down, kissing Sin's throat, sucking his sensitive flesh into his mouth, and then tracing his strong jaw with hot wet kisses. "Taste so good. Better than ambrosa," he muttered, whispering hotly over Sin's ear. "Gimme your mouth."

Chapter Text

"I'm yours Dean," Sam crooned into his ear. "All of me. Touch me, explore me, take me." He suddenly levered himself and twisted, slipping out of Dean's grip with experienced ease. He could tell Dean liked to win, liked to dominate, but he also clearly liked a challenge and would find it much more rewarding if he had to work for it, if he had to outwit Sam. "I'm yours, when you catch me, that is," he said, an impish smile on his face.

Sam slipped around the couch, placing it between them, mischief in his eyes. He swept up a bottle of oil and squeezed some onto his own chest and arms. Drawing his fingers through the ribbons of oil, he left glistening streaks of skin in their wake. He casually licked his fingers as he slowly walked backwards toward the bed. "It's nectar oil. Wouldn't you like to taste it? To taste me again?" Sucking his index finger into his mouth, he groaned softly as he pumped the finger slowly in and out of his mouth.

Dean's eyes were riveted on Sin, first as he poured and spread the oil over himself, then as he teased with gestures that made Dean not only want to know how Sin tasted with nectar oil, but how it would feel to have those perfect lips wrapped around his cock. Just like that, he was completely hard with need. Rising, he grinned. "You wanna play... let's do it." Taking a few steps back, he reversed directions, stepped onto the sofa and jumped over it, making a dive for the bed.

The bottle slipped from Sin's fingers, and he took off. Dean took off after him, making a grab for him. As his fingers slipped off Sin's oil-slicked skin, he cursed. "Frack.... that's cheating!"

Sam's laughter bubbled out of him. "But you at least get to see what the oil tastes like. Now imagine my taste mixed with it. Go on," Sam challenged, staring and watching his every move, and whispering, "taste it." When he saw Dean lick his fingers, he licked his own lips. So fracking hot. "Mmm-mmm, I like watching that. I can't wait to have you do that to me, or have me do that to you." He grinned and added in a sing-song taunt, "but first you hafta catch me!"

Dean circled around a coffee table, eyes transfixed on Sin who kept the distance between them but also managed to gyrate and tease. Dean feinted a couple of times, trying to figure out Sin's game, laughing when his fingers slipped off the guy's hip once again. Another time, the dratted man actually lowered his pants so that Dean got an eyeful of his upper ass cheeks and froze for a fraction of a micron, long enough for Sin to make his escape. "THAT is cheating too," he complained, but laughter filled his voice.

"It's not cheating," Sam said, grabbing hold of one of the pillars in the room and swinging around it to look at Dean. "If you can't deal with a little oil and just a tiny bit of an eyeful," he tsked, "how are you ever going to be able to handle me? All of me?" He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Maybe I'll just have to handle it myself if you aren't up to it." He reached down the front of his tight pants and wrapped his hand around his cock, thrusting into his fist a couple times, moaning softly in pleasure. He pulled his hand free then held his waistband out so he could look down to see his cock. "Poor guy down in there. Sure would like some attention." He put his other hand in there and pulled it back out, rubbing his thumb over his moist forefinger. "He's just weeping for attention, Dean." He licked his wet finger. "Frack. You're right. I do taste good." He blew Dean a kiss and dashed toward the window.

Dean feinted again, gaze narrowing, then jumped unexpectedly on the bed and used it as a springboard to tackle Sin bodily to the ground, cushioning his fall with his arm, then scrambled to stay on top. "How's your oil trick gonna help you now, huh? Huh?" he demanded, one knee between Sin's legs, holding him down. "Prize time... pay up." His gaze was squarely centered on his captive's sinfully sensuous lips.

Sam smiled slyly at Dean. "How's the oil going to help me now?" Using his hands he lifted Dean's shirt, pulling it up. He arched, pressing first his chest then his upper abs then his lower abs to Dean's body, transferring a sheen of oil to Dean's chest. He arched up again so their skins slid slickly across each other. "Oh, believe me, it has its uses." He let his smile broaden. "And how would you like to claim your prize?" He ground himself down against Dean's thigh then lifted up, twisting so their groins touched. Opening his mouth wide, offering it if Dean for kissing or fucking, then touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and slowly dragged his tongue back inside his mouth as he closed it.

"I'll bet it does." Layers of sensations... the slippery oil, the rolling and pressing of flesh and muscle against his own as Sin arched toward him one inch at a time, then the acrobatics that had their cocks locked together... and the sight of that wicked tongue tempting him... it was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. Every nerve in his body was firing, demanding he take Sin, make love to him until neither of them could stand. "You're such a tease," he said, groaning as he cupped the side of Sin's face, running his fingers into his hairline then pulling him up. "Let's start with that taste you promised."

Swooping down, Dean covered Sin's mouth with his, tongue instantly delving inside, sliding along Sin's tongue and engaging in yet another game of 'catch.' Chasing Sin's tongue, he explored every corner, running his tongue along the back of straight white teeth, crushing their mouths together, unable to get enough.

And Sam had thought the man could kiss before. It was rare someone could steal his breath away but this man was accomplishing that feat like no other. He was practically melting under the man and that wasn't the way it was supposed to be. It was his job to turn the man into a liquid puddle of desire and pleasure, not the other way around. He felt his blood rushing southward so fast he wasn't sure if it was Dean's kissing or the sudden loss of blood to his brain that made him light-headed. He was groaning with need like he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Ambrosa and you... like it," Dean pronounced, suddenly straddling Sam's hips, gripping his wrists and pinning them to the ground up above his head. "Gimme your tongue." The instant he saw Sin's tongue dart out, he lowered his head and sucked on it, moving up and down, like he was going down on Sin's cock. That thought should worry him, he'd never done that before, but right now all he could think about was how this man under him felt, how he tasted so damn good, and how every sound he made seemed to fan his desires. He wanted Sin to feel the same, wanted to give him a taste of how he was making Dean feel.

When Dean straddled him, he couldn't stop the tensing of his hips and lower back as he bucked up against that pressure on his hardening cock. Normally the pinning of his wrists bothered him though he would never show his clients that, but not this time, not by this man. Dean sucking on his tongue made him moan louder. Who the frack was giving who pleasure? This wasn't a matter of him letting Dean take him like this because that's the way the man would most like it, but rather he felt as if he was at the man's mercy and it was Dean who was giving him all the pleasure.

"By the Lords," Sam gasped when Dean finally let him breathe. "Make love to me Dean. Make me feel like it's real," he begged softly. It had been so long since he felt this sort of chemistry with anyone that for this one night he wanted to pretend it was real, real attraction, even...real love.

"It is real. I gave you your chip... it's real, not store bought," he whispered back, kissing him lightly, then moving his mouth over the underside of Sam's arm and nipping him. He was still holding onto his wrists, so Sam couldn't get away.

Sam started to protest in confusion. Chip? The tip that he'd put back in Dean's pocket, it was...his chip? That chip just meant Dean could play in the game again, that Dean could try to win him again the next time Sin was placed at the tables for wagers. He decided not to explain. He wanted Dean focused on him, not on anything else, and he certainly wasn't going to argue with him. He grinned at Dean's love nips. "You caught me. You don't have to keep hold of my wrists. Wouldn't you rather we both have our hands free?"

Chuckling, Dean rose to his knees and pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the side. Lifting up, he undid his pants and leaned forward to let Sin help pull them down. When Sin's hand brushed over his cock in the process, Dean gripped Sin's forearms for a heartbeat. He got his pants off and then stopped Sin from reaching for his own pants. "No... I wanna do it," he said, pushing Sin's hand away.

Sam couldn't help but stare at Dean's large firm cock. That wasn't...it didn't look like a Danobin's cock. Where were the extra ridges, the secondary crown? Ch'sen's had cocks similar to that but Dean only had two nipples not four. And he said he was Danobin...right?

On his knees, between Sin's legs, he moved as close as he could to the juncture of Sin's legs, dragging him close by gripping his thighs. He slid one hand under the small of Sin's back and lifted. As if knowing what he wanted, Sin arched his back like he had on the stage. Dean bit his lip as his heated gaze traveled over Sam's stomach, and then he lowered his mouth over it. He sucked on smooth soft oils sweetened flesh stretched taut over muscle, kissing and licking and sucking again, and rocking closer... his arousal pressing against Sam's thinly clad groin.

Dean's hot moist mouth on his skin sent shivers through Sam and he moaned in delight. Feeling Dean's erect cock against his own, he couldn't help but roll and wiggle his hips, careful not to move his stomach that Dean was so busy kissing. Combing his fingers through Dean's hair, he marveled at its softness. Its texture wasn't like a Danobin's, it was smooth and silky like his own. No...no, it just wasn't possible. Could Dean really be...human? He closed his eyes and groaned again as Dean sucked particularly hard, tonguing him all the while, and thoroughly distracting him from where his thoughts had been headed.

"More..." Sam breathed.

Splaying his hands wide over Sin's belly, Dean stroked up and down, then curled the fingers of both hands under the waist band of the silky black pants and started to inch them down, one side at a time, sucking his breath in as more of Sin was revealed. "God... you're so fucking hard." He meant Sin's washboard belly, his firm abs... and damned right, he meant his hard cock. Freeing it with one hand, he put the base of his palm against Sin's mouth, "lick." The instant Sin put his tongue out, Dean rubbed his palm against it, groaning when Sin retracted his tongue then licked him again.

Closing his now wet palm around Sin's hard flesh, he squeezed and stroked him. His gaze was laser focused on Sin's face. So damned responsive, and here was someone who didn't hide any of his reactions. The tortured expressions crossing his features had Dean's gut clenching with need. Sliding his free hand under Sin's back, he lifted him again, loving how he arched up, running his tongue along the deep indentation in the center of his chest and along his throat, until Sin was half sitting, and they were mouth to mouth again. His tongue wove in and out of Sin's mouth, his fist stroking up and down Sin's cock, his thigh muscles straining as he rocked forward, pushing his own aching arousal against Sin's ass and balls, trying to get the pressure he needed, rubbing himself.

Sam let himself simply absorb the feelings Dean was bringing out in him so effortlessly, every touch by the man a new sensation in ecstasy. He occasionally tried to take over their kissing, only to offer it as a challenge. When he did, he felt the man's muscles tense as he held Sam tighter and squeezed his cock harder. He heard the man groan, maybe even almost growl as he became more aggressive and forced Sam back into submission. Roving his hands over Dean's back, he felt each sculpted muscle, carded his fingers through Dean's hair, and ran his fingertips along the shell of the man's ear.

Feeling Dean's need against his ass, he clenched his buttocks and rolled his hips, moaning as the movement gave new pressure sensations to his own cock. Dean's grip was firm on him, but not too firm, just at that perfect pressure right before there would be pain. He had learned how to keep his cock from leaking even a single bead of cum because some of his customers didn't like him to shed any fluids. It required him to keep intense control over his pleasure, but this one wanted everything from him, wanted to know how deeply he was effecting Sam so Sam allowed some of that control to slip away. He honestly wasn't sure he could have held onto it much longer anyhow, punishment be damned. He moaned loudly into Dean's mouth and the warm cum seeping from his tip only heightened his excitement when he felt the warmth spread down his cock with every down stroke Dean made on him.

As wet heat dripped from Sin's cock, Dean grunted, his spiraling need testing the last shreds of his control, holding onto it by sheer will. As he tongue fucked Sin, moving his fist at a slightly slower speed, he realized this man was made for sin... for pleasure... for fucking. A part of him was ashamed by the thought, but another part of him recognized it as the truth. Every reaction, every sound Sin made, every movement was geared to drive Dean's lust to heights he'd never imagined.

By the Lords Sam wanted to thrust into that hand with growing speed but Dean's ministrations were slow and determined, almost torturous. Dean's pleasure. He had to focus on Dean's pleasure, not on his own. He gave a small gyration, stroking Dean's cock with his ass. Arching his back a bit more, he ran his hand over the slick oil on his chest before he reached behind him and found Dean's cock. Running fingers along its shaft, he stroked it, oiling it, capturing it between his ass and his hand. With a subtle shift of his hips and forcing them to all but still no matter what Dean's touch was doing to his cock, he positioned Dean's cock at his hole in offering, bouncing just a little, putting repeated pressure on the tip of Dean's cock. All Dean had to do was snap his hips forward and he would be buried deeply inside Sam.

"Ungh..." the deep groan tore from the back of Dean's throat as blinding heat flooded his system, and he wasn't even inside Sin yet... just tortured by his oil slicked hole rubbing against his cock, tempting, taunting. "Need you," he muttered against Sin's lips, kissing hard, one last time before lifting up, hands gripping Sam's hips, mentally cursing the silky pants that he impatiently pushed out of the way and giving a clean, hard thrust, impaling Sin. "Oh God..." It took everything Dean had to allow Sin time to adjust to his invasion, biting his lower lip as Sin clenched tightly around his cock, stimulating the urge to thrust again and again, fighting it... fighting hard.

Sam relaxed his sphincter though every fiber of him seemed tight with anticipation. When Dean suddenly filled him he cried out, feeling Dean's cock brush over his prostate, sending white tendrils of pleasure wrapped in with the pain. It hurt, it burned, but Dean held himself there, letting Sam get used to his size. He wasn't used to such consideration. Rippling his muscles, he encouraged Dean to let himself go to get lost inside him. Shifting, pushing, pulling, he teased Dean's cock. He really didn't need that much time to adjust. He was long used to the burn and easily relaxed himself after the first moments of Dean being inside him. He wanted Dean to fuck him with abandon, to fuck him and be totally out of control like he had never before been in his life. He wanted that with all his heart because he didn't ever want this man to forget his night with Sin.

The way Sin pushed back didn't help Dean's cause. His control slipped. Tilting his head to the side, an apology thick on his tongue, he started to thrust deep with hard, long strokes of his cock. His fingers bit into Sin's hips with bruising force as he pulled the man closer each time his hips snapped forward to bury himself inside Sin's tight hot sheath. "Fuck... fuck... fuck..." he started to curse, pistoning inside this irresistible man, wanting to be inside him even deeper, to crawl inside his skin, to be one with him.

Sam rocked back against every hard push, tightening his muscles, releasing them, taking Dean in as completely as he was able. He hardly felt the crushing grip on his hips. He only felt Dean pushing in and pulling out, and he panted and moaned with each delicious feel of that firm cock filling him. "Yes, yes, by the Lords," Sam gasped, pushing Dean to speed up and angling himself just a little so every time Dean pushed in he practically spasmed with pleasure. "Faster, harder," he all but screamed at Dean. "Fuck me so hard I'll feel you for days." So good, so damned good.

Dean's eyes glazed over with passion as a plea broke from his lips, "Sin..."

When he heard his lover's cry, Sam arched and shoved himself upright, wrapping his arms around Dean, finding his mouth with absolute accuracy. He shoved his tongue inside Dean's sweet mouth long enough to engage Dean's tongue then sucked Dean's tongue into his own, sucking in time to each thrust Dean made. He rode Dean's cock, sliding up and down that velvet flesh, trying to push Dean in even deeper. Bringing one hand around front he twisted and pinched one of Dean's nipples.

"Holy...!" Dean hadn't expected Sin to sit, or take his cock in that deep... to ride him. It felt good, so damn good, so intense, he could barely keep his moans from sounding one after the other. His movements changed, he started to lift up off the ground, fucking his cock upwards and dragging Sin down over him, hard. His tongue moved inside Sin's mouth, desperately mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts, taking everything... everything Sin would give him. The sudden pleasure pain at his nipple had him groaning into Sin's mouth, teeth gnashing against Sin's.

Sam stopped sucking on Dean's tongue and licked along his neck. "Come for me. Come for Sin. Bury yourself and fill me with every bit of seed in you."

The words took the last shreds of Dean's control from him. His thighs strained as he lifted up off the ground, ramming his cock as deeply into Sin's tight hole as he could, pulsing there until a cry broke out of him. "Sin.... aw fuck... Sin!" He held the man tight, still fucking into him as ropes of hot cum left him, filling Sin, even as he pressed closer, making sure his stomach rubbed and pressured Sin's cock trapped between their bodies.

Sam felt it as the cascade of pleasure tore through Dean, the way he gasped and moaned, the tightening of his muscles, the almost frenzied pumping in and out of Sam's ass. Sam crooned and encouraged, running his hands over the man's sweating skin as he rode him harder and harder until he felt that final burst and the way Dean went rigid for just a moment. The heat showered his insides and he rode Dean, pulling out everything, working him and trying to pull out a second orgasm from the man. He wanted Dean to remember this night, to remember Sin as the best fuck he ever had. His own needs and desires he kept tightly controlled even as Dean rubbed against his cock making that task harder even as it made his cock harder. If needed, he knew he could coax Dean into another orgasm by making Dean bring him to completion. There was nothing like the power and control of being able to bring your partner off, knowing that they were holding onto it even if it was almost agony, just so you could be the one to bring them to orgasm so that they would come only for you.

The controlled clenching squeezing Dean's cock combined with Sin's slow up and down motions was getting Dean impossibly hard. Eyes widening, he started fucking again, a little harder, a little faster, until his breaths grew labored as he kissed the shell of Sin's ear. "You trying to kill me?" he asked, giving a sharp thrust that had him groaning. "Oh Gods... come with... please..." he pleaded, pushing one hand between them and taking Sin's cock in his fist. He started to squeeze and stroke, hanging on, trying not to come... to wait for Sin. "Come on... come for me," he begged, on the verge of a second release.

He felt Dean's response to his urgings and grinned as he sucked and kissed and licked at Dean's throat. The man's words made him laugh. "I just don't want you to ever forget Sin."

He took each of Dean's thrusts, locking his sphincter tight as Dean pushed in, releasing it as Dean pulled out, moving and shifting and offering Dean's hard shaft as much stimulation as he could. When he felt that warm hand curl around his own cock, Sam sucked in a breath and responded with a fresh moan of his own. "Only for you Dean. I come only for you," Sam whispered in his ear and then let himself sink into the pleasure, letting every sound that wanted to come out spill from his throat and mouth. Moans and groans, dirty words and praising words, all falling from his lips as he pumped faster and faster in Dean's hand, pushing up only to sink down onto Dean's shaft. He dug his nails into Dean's back as he felt his balls tighten incredibly hard.

Sweat mixed with oil as Dean tried to hang on, to concentrate on touching, just touching Sin. "Yes, come..." he said, too affected by the words spewing from his lover's mouth to be able to hold back even another centon.

"Deannnn!" Sam screamed as he felt himself erupt, clenching on Dean's cock to draw him to orgasm as him own cum was a fountain spray between them. He kept thrusting in Dean's hand, his head thrown back. He hadn't had such an intense orgasm in a long time and it was practically pulling him inside out as his seed poured from him and he screamed his lover's name over and over in sheer ecstasy.

Lowering his head, Dean bit Sin's shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks but not to break his skin. His muttered words were unintelligible as he came for the second time, still fighting to concentrate on Sin... on how he sounded, how he felt, how his cock pulsed... the hot wet heat coating his hand now even as he continued to stroke. "Only for me," he murmured, knowing it wasn't true, but accepting it for this moment.

Both of their motions slowed, calmed. Dean kissed Sin one more time before untangling himself and sitting up with a grin on his face as he reached for the plate of food. "Need to re-energize. And Sin... I don't think you need to ever worry about being forgotten."

Sam arched an eyebrow at him as he grinned back. "I think I can say the same. I know who I'm going to be picturing in my mind for at least the next month every time I come, and I'm going to be looking for you in the audience every night. I hope you make Thiros a regular stop on your route. We've still most the night left and I'm already missing you." Sam grabbed a few of the fingerlings from the plate and smacked Dean's hand when he reached for more food. "Let me," he said and pushed Dean back to relax then fed them to Dean. "I don't think I'm doing a very good job though. You should be collapsed into a little heap of exhaustion on the floor. You must have some Tanis blood in you." Sam kept his eyes locked on Dean's. "Computer, music, Danobin metropop. Setting five."

He probably would be collapsing if he hadn't already been sitting... so it had been easier to just stay sitting. Besides, he hadn't had enough of looking at Sin, which was really weird because usually after sex he just wanted to sleep or watch something on the view screen or, if he could get away with it, slip out of bed and go to his own quarters.

Music began playing, its volume not so loud that the two men couldn't hear each other when they talked, but loud enough if they were across the room they would have to yell at one another. Sam caressed Dean's chest, running his fingers lightly across it. "There's the jet bath in the next room, or the steam shower if you'd like me to wash you. I'm told Sin's massages best anyone on Thiros. I could bring you back to slow arousal, or you could watch as I bring myself hard for you." Sam handed Dean a goblet of ambrosa. "What would you like from Sin, now, sweet lover? How may I serve you?"

"Really wanna know how to serve me?" The world rankled, not because it came from Sin, but in general, due to his feelings on slavery. "Stop serving me." He pushed up off the ground and started heading for the jet bath, then looked over his shoulder. "But if you want anything from me... you know, a hard on or... I don't have your imagination, but I'm a quick study. So if you want something, you know where I am." With that, he walked inside the luxurious bathroom.

Sam sat back a little at Dean's comment and watched as the muscular man rose to his feet. A man that liked a challenge, that like to subjugate, might not want to be served and waited upon. Sam had thought since Dean had 'caught' him, that might be enough to allow Dean to let him tend to him. Obviously Dean was a man that had to be constantly challenged. So how would he convince Dean to let him wash that delicious body that he really wanted to touch again? He got to his feet and padded after the man, taking the time to thoroughly enjoy the view when he stepped into the bathroom.

The jet tub was large and carved out of marble in the shape of a shell. The seating inside was in all sorts of configurations that had Dean thinking of all the endless positions someone could have sex in, just in that tub. Bending over the controls, he rubbed his eyes. Okay, he had no idea what buttons to press... shouldn't this be in one of the universal languages?

Sam leaned against the wall as he watched the man study the controls. The emblems were controlled in Central and he was certain they would be written in Danobin to add that extra little touch of familiarity for him. It was obvious the man couldn't read them and that made Sam frown just a little bit. Shoving off the wall, he came up beside Dean, whispering in his ear. "Convince me to tell you the best settings and I will. Otherwise maybe you'll get a cold bath instead. So can you convince me, Dean? Or is that lovely package between your legs going to end up an itty bitty little nub from the cold?"

Sin's warm breath on his ear did things to Dean, things to his body that shouldn't be possible on the heels of two releases in such a short time. Turning, he started walking Sin backwards until he had him up against the wall, each hand flat against the wall on either side of his body, trapping him. "So you need convincing?" Grinning, Dean feathered kisses over Sin's deliciously sinful lips, paying a lot of attention to one corner, but refusing to give him his tongue.

Sam wasn't quite sure what was in Dean's mind as he walked backwards, trusting Dean to guide him, though he knew there shouldn't be anything to trip over. He felt the cold stone of the wall against his back. Dean's kisses were maddening. He kept trying to catch them, to deepen them, but Dean would have none of that.

Slowly, Dean kissed his way down the center of Sin's body, tongue moving over soft flesh rubbed with fruit infused oil. He went lower, kissing Sin's cock, its tip, along its shaft, then bending further, and licking his balls before he stood up. "You wanna finish what we just started? I like my bath hot." His eyes held a challenge as he locked gazes with Sin's.

Sam groaned as Dean's tongue danced down his flesh. When his mouth reached his cock Sam could feel the blood already beginning to pool in anticipation. He gasped softly as that hot tongue meandered over his sac. His eyes were already half closed, ready for more, definitely ready for more, when he heard Dean's words. His eyes snapped open and he measured Dean. He couldn't make it too easy, what fun was that for Dean? "That definitely won you hot," he breathed. "But it didn't win you everything. There are a lot of things that jet bath can do. What else can you do?"

"What else, huh?" Dean eyed him, a little surprised by the resistance, but liking it. "You see this...?" He stuck his tongue out, very close to Sin's mouth, moving it in a figure eight. "I can tie fruit stems into knots with it. I can give you other kinds of knots to worry about, right here," he said, pushing his thigh up against Sin's semi-aroused cock.

Sam moaned softly at the pressure Dean built between his legs and the thought of that tongue on his cock and balls had him ready to cave. He gave a seductive smile. "Hot and one setting. And maybe you can convince me of more once we're in the tub if you do give me knots in all the right places. There are an awful lot of settings. And I do want to see how creative you can get earning each of them. And one of them, I don't want just regular everyday things that you'd do with anyone. I want something special. Something. Just. For. Sin."

Sam pushed away from the wall and pressed his chest against Dean's as this time he was the one to walk Dean backward toward the tub. Once there, he tapped a button and the bottom of the shell cracked apart, steaming water filling the tub in just a few microns. Next he tapped two more buttons and water bubbled up from various places in the tub. He guided Dean into the tub and over to one set of seats while he settled in the other. As he reclined back, the seat tilted and lifted so that water lapped around Sam but his hardening cock was above the water line. He leaned forward enough to bring his cock back under water, it swaying a bit as the jets bubbled against it. "So show me."

Leaning back, relaxing as the hot water surrounded him, Dean looked at Sin through half lidded eyes. "I can make you come just by staring."

Sam laughed. He couldn't help it. "Just by staring, can you?"

He was full of it, but he could damn well try. He was pretty fracking sure that the jets were hitting and massaging Sin's cock the same as they were doing to him, and this was a helluvalot like mechanical masturbation. "And a little... oral stimulation," he said, trying to get an edge, as he started to embark on telling the hottest, dirtiest story in the 'verse' about a human named Sin who was wanted by every man and woman he came in touch with. If worst came to worst, he thought could dip his head down under water and give him another type of oral stimulation to push Sin toward orgasm. After dragging the story on for a while, he stopped right in the middle. "Did I mention that for a human, I can hold my breath a really long time?" The slip wasn't unintentional, but that didn't mean he didn't want to win this round anyway.

Sam sat up a little with interest as Dean started telling his story. He had never had anyone do that for him. Make him sound so important, so wonderful, so valuable. Yes he'd had bids, outrageous bids placed on him at auction or at the tables and he knew he was valuable as a slave, and excellent at pleasure giving, but this was...different. It was an outside viewpoint, a story about himself. What could be more precious and unique? The story was definitely erotic but it was still...new. Different. Just for him. The story was definitely getting him hard as Dean launched into details that put images in his mind of him doing exactly some of those things with Dean. The looks Dean gave him, gave his cock, sent pure fire through him. Then when Dean said he was human Sam knew it wasn't just a fantasy of some Danobin merchant. He was human. He was really human.

"You win," Sam finally gasped. "But show me how long you can hold your breath or I am going to come without any help."

"I'd love to see that," Dean said thickly, though he moved and put his hands on Sin's thighs. "You better be counting the microns," he smirked, then dipped his head down under the water, sucking Sin's rock hard dick into his mouth, sealing his lips around it and making hard sucking motions, using his tongue to add to the pressure, urging him, willing this man to come before he needed to take a breath.

* * *

Many centars later, Dean woke up sprawled over Sin. A smile curled his lips at the thought of waking the man up for yet another round until he lifted his arm and saw the time. Felgercarb... Only three centars left with Sin, three centars to get him off the station, three centars to figure out the security of the station and make sure they weren't caught. Course there was one other hurdle. Sin himself.

Sliding off Sin, Dean got up and quickly got dressed. He drank some juice to quench his thirst, then sat back down on the bed, this time shaking Sin's shoulder. "Wake up, Sin... need to talk to you," he said, commanding the lights to slowly brighten.

Sam blinked his eyes open. At this point, no matter what Dean said, he was beginning to think the man was half-Tanis. He was ready for another round? Granted, Sam hadn't been any slacker and he was enjoying Dean the most he had enjoyed anyone in a very long time. He wondered if it was because Dean was ... human. He shut his eyes a moment. He was going to have warn Dean not to come back. If they discovered Dean was human they would likely try to kill him or enslave him. But those grim thoughts could wait. He only had a few precious more hours with his Dean and he didn't want to waste them.

Twisting his head he started to smile then saw that Dean was dressed. Glancing at the time he shook his head and tugged at Dean's shirt. "No. You have three centars left. Come back to bed. I'll make the rest of the night seem like a blow job by a virgin...please, come back to bed. Please don't leave." The desperation he heard in his own voice almost startled him.

"I am in bed... but you gotta get up," Dean answered, shaking his head at Sin's tugs. "Don't tempt me... I'm serious, don't... Sin..." He bent down and kissed him though he knew, in his heart he knew, it was the end of 'play time' and reality was around the corner. In his reality, he didn't spend his nights in luxurious quarters, drinking liquors that were worth a small fortune and making love with a man, a man he'd won in a game. He pulled away with more difficulty than he should be having, and took a deep breath. "Trust me?"

Sam tried to deepen the kiss and pull Dean back down beside him, but Dean resisted. He stared at Dean and bit his lip. Did he trust Dean? As much as he trusted any of his clients, which meant he really didn't trust him, not at all. If only Dean knew how many times he had heard that phrase and how many bad outcomes had resulted. There had been good outcomes too, good times, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut and it scared him. He was a slave though and Dean was his current 'owner' for the next three centars. Whatever Dean wanted he would do. He had no choice or say in the matter. Sam sat up and pulled out his best smile. "Course I trust you. Do you want me to get dressed?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "That would be best." He sensed a new tension between them and knew it was because he'd just changed the lay of the land. For a little while, Dean said nothing, watching Sin dress. After he'd pulled his pants on, Dean got up and poured drinks for both of them, short ones. "Here." He pushed the glass into Sin's hand, then nodded for him to sit.

When Sin sat on the sofa, Dean pulled a chair up in front of him. "You believe me when I say I'm human?" he asked, knowing Sin had doubts earlier, and that he'd been playing along with what he thought was Dean's 'fantasy.'

Sam accepted the drink. Both his eyebrows raised a little. He made certain his voice held that tone of playing along. "Of course, Dean. Most definitely human. Computer, music. Ch'sen gutters. Level 5."

Sam didn't want to say any of it, but he knew he had to. He took a sip of his drink and kept his voice neutral as he spoke quietly. "If you were human, your life or your freedom would be in danger, Dean. Best you not mention it again...and it's safest if you don't come back. They periodically check life readings. You can pass as Danobin unless they get suspicious. It's not worth the risk. You'll need to stay to the end of your time, then leave. Don't look back and don't try to make any deals. Just get out of this sector of space."

"It's what I plan on doing. Dean nodded, then leaned in toward Sin. "But I'm taking you with me."

Sam leaned away from Dean as his eyes grew veiled and he laughed bitterly. He wanted it to be true. The Lords help him, he wanted it to be true, but it wasn't and he wouldn't let any part of himself believe it. Why did Dean have to ruin their time together? He hadn't enjoyed a night with anyone like he had with Dean, not in a very long time.

"Because you love me? Because you can't live without me? Or maybe because you don't believe in slavery and want to set me free? Do you think I'm a fool? I know how much I'm worth. You could ransom me to Thiros for a fortune, or sell me to one of their competitors. You would never have to work again. You're handsome, good enough at making love you might well have been, frack, could still be, a pleasure slave working for someone else. Maybe you are a Danobin or Ch'sen that's undergone surgical alteration to convince me you're human and you expect the mindless, stupid human slave to fall willingly into your arms because I think you actually care about me or because you're the first human I've touched in years? Or maybe... as has been done far too many times before...you're a test by Thiros. They don't like their slaves trying to run away. It's been a long while since I've tried to escape, since they've tested my loyalty, or at least, my sense of self-preservation. I'm sorry Dean or whatever your name is or whoever you are, I don't care to be beaten to within an inch of my life again. If you're working for Thiros go tell Cayden I've passed his test. If you work for Lootal or Rewsa or, gods forbid, Marchielle, tell them I'm not going anywhere. I am not the stupid, inferior life form you all consider me to be."

Sam put back on his happy slave facade and set aside the glass Dean had given him. He leaned in close to the man and ran his hand caressingly along the man's neck and whispered against his lips. "Now, you have three centars of Sin left to you. Why don't you come back to bed and enjoy me since you will never get to touch me again except in your dreams."

Dean let out a long breath, though he'd never looked away from Sin as all the bitter suspicion-filled words fell from the man's lips. He couldn't blame him, not based on his experiences, but he recognized the last as a dig. "You're right, I will never get to touch you again, but that's starting from now, not in three centars. I didn't come here looking for sex with a slave, I didn't," he shook his head. "You're right, I don't believe in slavery, but I wouldn't pay for sex even if you or anyone else were an honored socialator. Not my style."

He sat back, trying to collect his words. "That was a game of chance out there and you know it. You've been here long enough to know it was real... you'd feel it in your gut if the game was rigged and so would those other players." He was pretty sure they were professional gamers. "So you wanna know why I'm getting you out of here? Because you're human. Like me. And I'm not... I can't leave you behind, alright?" He took a sip of his drink. "I can make it look like I forced you. You've got drugs, we can drug you. Or I don't wanna mark you but if that's what it takes to make them believe... I can do that. Then if you're caught, they can only blame me. But we won't get caught." Dean pointed at him. "You think I'm good at sex? I'm awesome at escape."

Sam thought back to Dean being led to the table. He could have merely been a very good actor but he hadn't seemed to have known that Sam was the prize. He had appeared more than surprised when he discovered it. And Sam knew two of the others at the table and the third, he knew her siblings. Bistronea Deon, the Tanis, if no one else, would never have gambled in a fixed game and never would have been in on doing something like this to Sam. The reasoning that Dean gave him was not one that had ever been used before. It had always been the caring, loving, or the dislike of slavery line. Dean's answer was a very...human...sentiment. It also struck a chord deep within him. He had been abandoned, he had been left behind, and it was why he was where he was.

"Drugs or force, that wouldn't protect me from their retribution," Sam said slowly. "I...I don't trust you. But I want to. I was ready to believe anyone when I first got here. That was...disciplined out of me. They treat me very well now. But eventually I will be put on the auction block and I know who will likely buy me." He shuddered knowing full well Marchielle would make a very strong attempt to be Sam's new owner. "Some who may try, I would gladly go with them. A few others, I would prefer death rather than to be their slave." He stared at the table, his mind's eye seeing anything but the food that was on it. At one time he was on the border of being executed or sold. The first six months here had been hellish. He finally accepted his fate, even embraced it, accepting the drugs they gave him that let him forget his past, permitting himself to get lost in the serving and the pleasuring of others. His needs no longer held much meaning for him. If this was a test by Thiros... He finally turned his gaze on Dean, fear and resignation in his own. If this was a trick by Thiros, he once again failed because he wanted to be with other humans...and just maybe, because he wanted to be with Dean. "I am scared to leave. Will you...will you protect me and take care of me in your home? Will you treat me kindly? See that I am fed and kept warm and clothed? Do you swear you will do this? That you will not sell me? Do you swear I will not be left alone and abandoned?"

Reaching out, Dean took Sin's hand. "Look, I need some information about how to knock out whatever they're using to know your whereabouts. I'm guessing the collar, but I could be wrong. I'll handle the first leg of this, get rid of their scanners, whatever I have to. You'll stay here, 'asleep.' If I'm caught... and I won't be... no fault of yours." He nodded. "I take you with me, you'll be protected, they will never get their claws into you again, I promise. I can't promise you this," he waved his hand around the room. "Absinthe, the best foods, luxury, but I can promise that you'll have what you need. And if you want this..." again he gestured, "you can be a socialator, free, choosing only the propositions you want and keeping whatever you make... it'll be yours to do with as you wish." The Rising Star was a luxurious gambling and resort ship in their armada of ships and if Sin wanted a life there, Dean was sure he could easily get in.

Again, Dean's words were not like the others. No promises of even greater comfort, no promises of undying love or pleasures. Socialator. He used that term again, one that Sam had never heard among all these aliens. A human term for a trained and educated pleasure giver that wasn't a slave. He swallowed hard, barely believing he was saying the words that came to his mouth. He was going to try once again, one last time, to escape Thiros. "I don't need much. My cell...my room is small. I have only a few things I own, but I would like to bring them with me." Sam finally nodded. "The safest and least obvious way would be to knock out the sensors at the doors. So long as we are far enough away when they come back on line, the slave collar won't be able to kill me. I'm not certain how far is far enough though.

"There is a transponder in my shoulder. You will have to take it out after we are away or they can track me. If you take it out before, it will alert them. The door sensors are controlled in Central, but the Overseer, he has a white box on his belt, it can turn them off. If a slave tries to escape or someone tries to drag a slave out the door, the alarms go off and the Overseer can turn the sensors off so a kill signal is not issued otherwise the slave has less than one centon to get back inside or the sensors send the kill command. I have seen others die this way. It is...unpleasant. I know that the box has a four digit code. I do not know if it sends a signal to Central and alerts them. I know that Central can turn off the sensors and it will not alert the Overseer.

"As you've seen, all eyes follow me. Everyone wants me. I would probably do well to be in disguise. It would probably be wise for you to be in disguise as well. You are the big winner. Being out before the twelve centars would suggest you were unhappy with me unless I were with you."

Dean took note of everything Sin said. He then asked a series of questions, getting clarification and finding out why Sin believed that things worked a certain way. Was it based on what he'd seen or was it something he'd heard and from whom. He moved to Sin's side and took a look at the collar. Without tools, it would be impossible to get the fracking thing off. He scowled. "No, we can't take the risk of a kill order getting to you."

Sam didn't say anything but agreed whole heartedly with the sentiment.

Standing up, Dean paced as he thought the plan through. "All right, I'm getting the belt from the Overseer..." he raised his hand to silence Sin. "You get your stuff, and meet me back here as soon as you can. Do you know where there's a panel to the power grid? If I can overload it, the sensors will be out all over the station and they won't know where to begin looking or even that they have an escape. If you can get disguises, great. If not... we're still running."

Sam told him of the power panels he was aware of. He knew of one in particular that took power to one section of the resort and by extrapolation sections other power grids controlled. He suspected the main power grid would be deep in the belly of the station, but he only knew the access to those halls and had never been inside them. Still there had to be one central point that ran out to the various panels. After a moment, Sam looked at Dean. "The central fountain. That's probably the hub. They're meticulous about keeping it perfect. I see maintenance at it all the time, even when there doesn't appear to be anything wrong, but it seems to me I've seen them there after there have been power issues elsewhere in the resort. It would make sense from a structural standpoint. There's a panel there, it faces the Bluje restaurant. I doubt anyone would think twice if you were in the brown coveralls of a maintenance worker and you messed with it, unless someone recognized you."

Dean nodded in agreement. He'd sensed that Sin was clever... not just a pretty face, but he was glad the guy just proved it.

"We can change your hair color with a temporary spray that will wear off in four centars, and features of a T'lekian wouldn't be hard," Sam said thoughtfully, studying Dean's face. "Some eyebrow enhancement, fur along your ears and if you wear gloves and a high-necked shirt, nothing else would be apparent. Just keep your bottom jaw jutted out in an under bite. There are plenty of T'lekian maintenance workers. I have everything to make you up in the closet. It won't take long. I can disguise myself, get my things and meet you at the doors by the Torino gaming center. Those lead directly to lifts that will take us to the docking bay with your ship."

"Furry ears. Awesome," Dean grit out, but gave a nod of approval. "Let's do it."

* * *

Sam waited at the doors, watching for the sensor lights to go off. He struck up a conversation with some Tanis females, giggling and chatting and giving the newcomers some suggestions about the best places to go. He was dressed as a Selaran since they were fairly flat chested and tall, and he could easily pitch his voice to their high falsetto. He had padded himself in the right places, shaved his arms and streaked his skin blue. White and silver hair spiraled down to his ass and his contacts changed his eyes from hazel to a milky blue. Dental inserts gave him sharp teeth and he wore a dress that was bronze and full of glitter, high collared and thick in scarves. Fabric draped down to his knees where white leggings disappeared into white hide boots with heels. He carried a hugely oversized purse which hid the handful of things he wanted to take with him as well as his and Dean's clothes. He saw the sensor lights flicker, go out, then come back on and his gut clenched. Maybe there was a backup that he didn't know about. When he saw them go out again and this time they stayed out, he breathed a sigh of relief and kept a sharp eye out for Dean. Seeing the merchant approach, he spoke a few more microns with the felinoids then wished them well and walked up Dean.

"Hello, handsome, when do you get off?" Sam asked him.

Dean glanced at the glittered up woman. "Ah... not for a few centars. And then I'm going home to the wife and the eight brats," he gave a half shrug, "thanks for asking." Now go away. He turned and scanned the wide walk way to the door, looking for Sin and trying to hide any indications of anxiety. He didn't know Sin any better than Sin knew him. It meant he was putting his own life in a stranger's hands, though right now he was really more worried that Sin would back out and simply not appear.

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. And then he wondered if Dean perhaps was sealed and did have children. Well...he liked kids. He supposed he could be a good babysitter for them. He faltered just a moment at that thought of Dean being sealed, then smiled again. "With the lights out, I thought you would be anxious to be off work and on your way," Sam said, running his hand down Dean's arm lightly. "I know I'm ready to go for a ride."

"Ah... no, I'm waiting to be called..." Dean started brushing her hand off him, when he snapped his head around to look, really look at her face. Eyes widening, he grabbed Sin's hand. "Funny. Didn't figure you'd have a sense of humor when we're this close to dying." Despite his words, Dean was thrilled to find Sin had nerves of steel and could joke. "It's a very... human thing," he said grinning, as he swept Sin through the doors to the docking bay.

There was some extra activity geared to getting the power back and sensors working. Stepping behind some crates, Dean got rid of the overalls that indicated he was a worker and accepted clothes Sin got out of the huge purse. Dressing quickly, he took Sin's hand again and walked down the aisle of space crafts. Before security could stop him to ask, he walked up to them and started to show his papers. They waved him off.

Then they were at his shuttlecraft. Once he had the doors closed, he started to feel like this would work... definitely work. "Strap in," he said, moving to the front of the craft. He flipped a couple of switches and started to power up. "Computer, monitor transmissions for any mention of an unauthorized exit," he said.

Sam took a seat on one of the benches and after fumbling with the straps a moment, got them fastened.

Turning, Dean looked at Sin. "You all right? We'll be out of here shortly."

Sam folded his hands in his laps. "Yeah," he said, but his voice cracked. Suddenly he couldn't help his hand going to the collar around his throat. He wondered if there would be any warning. At least he wouldn't die on the station. At least he would die trying to escape. Escaping, at this point, had become a fantasy rather than the dream or hope it had once been. The engines roared to life and he listened to their almost familiar rumble. He hadn't asked Dean anything about where they were going or what the place that Dean lived was like. He hoped it was nice. He hadn't set foot on a world in yahrens and the thought of seeing a sunrise or watching rain fall, or feeling the wind in his face, it was all very attractive.

Although he didn't want to disrupt Dean's concentration he couldn't help but blurt out, "You aren't really sealed and have eight kids, do you?"

Dean gave a bark of laughter. "More like seven," he nodded, thinking of his squad. "All right... they're giving us the green light. Say goodbye."

"Oh," Sam said softly. Well, it was pretty stupid to think maybe Dean would want him as a companion. He stared down at his hands. What the frack was he thinking anyhow? At the moment, he was really just waiting for the collar to activate and for a rather painful death.

Dean punched a button. "Manual controls." A moment later, they were lifting off and were headed out of the pressurized docking bay and into the black velvet of space. He kept a steady course and didn't accelerate too much, his trajectory accurate for the destination he'd given. Once they were some distance from the station, he turned and looked at Sin. Sin looked pale, though it could be the makeup. "It's gonna be fine, look," he held up the Overseer's belt. "That thing... is not gonna do anything to you, it can't. I'll work on getting it off you as soon as we're far enough for me to change course." He licked his lips. "You want to sit up front, with me?"

"You need to cut out the transponder. They could realize I'm gone any centon and activate it. I'm not sure if maybe...I don't know if the transponder can transmit to the collar."

Seeing the real fear in Sin's eyes, he got up. "Monitor for any crafts following our trajectory," he told the computer. Walking to the back of the shuttle, he came back with both the medical case and tool box, and sat down next to Sin. "Wanna take off the hair and dress? I'll get you something to change into soon as we're done," he said, knowing there were extra clothes in one of the compartments, spare clothes for 'Dean the merchant.' Sin was a little taller, but they had similar builds and something should fit.

Sam's fingers didn't seem to want to work but he finally got the straps undone. He pulled off the wig and pulled the dress over his head and removed the tight shirt he wore underneath that he'd used to hold the padding in place. He popped out the fake teeth with a practiced flick of his tongue. Reaching over his shoulder he pointed beside his right shoulder blade. "It's right in this area. If you press hard you can feel it, a flat oval. And I brought a set of clothes. I wasn't going to meet your...wife and kids in a dress. So what's my story? Do you and your wife participate in partner sharing? Or should she not be told you spent the evening with a pleasure slave? If you want me to be a house slave, I'll be happy to work for your family and earn my keep. I can do a lot of things. I'm strong and very hard working and would be happy to look after children."

Cupping Sam's chin, Dean made him look up. "Don't. Don't ever say you'll be a slave, any kind of slave, for anyone, Sin. I mean it. You're no slave. You're just a man, like me. Just prettier, but without all the charm." Well he had to give himself some credit.

Sam wanted to argue. He was a slave. They had drilled that into him, beaten that into him. He didn't think he could be anything else anymore. Once, a long time ago, in another life, he had been strong. But even then, he hadn't been strong enough. Not strong enough to prevent...he blinked back the tears. No that was his shame. He deserved this. He deserved to be a slave. He deserved to die a long and suffering death. He felt sudden panic grip him. He shouldn't be here. He should be back at Thiros, serving, pleasuring, being punished for his sins.

Sliding his hand over Sin's shoulder, Dean added. "No wife to meet. Why? Do I ah... seem like the settling down type or is it my age?" he asked, feeling the hard edges of the transponder buried deep under Sin's flesh. He hadn't noticed it last night. Images of what they'd done all night long tried to crowd his mind, but he blocked them. It had been a good time, but it was over.

Looking through the med kit, Dean cursed when he realized there was no numbing agent, only some pain pills. Who the frack had stocked the kit? He selected a scalpel with a thin blade and made a face at the fact they were going to have to do with without any anesthetics. Waiting for pain pills to kick in wasn't an option.

Dean's words drew Sin out of his ruminations. "You--you said you had a wife and eight kids. And you just admitted you had seven kids at least. I just assumed you-you had a wife. People are different on Thiros. They leave their homes and selves behind. And for a while, their families. I don't know you. You might be much more reserved outside of the bedroom. You were very shy when you first won me."

"I'm not shy. I told you the truth, Sin. I never really went with a guy before. You know, other than in a setting where I had to do a little kissing to get to his girl," he shrugged. "Anyway, I didn't recognize you. Thought you were making moves on me and the best way to get rid of you was to tell you that." He put his hand in his pocket and brought out a flat bottle, the absinthe he'd grabbed from the room. Unscrewing it, he poured a little on Sin's shoulder, then passed it to him. "Drink. This is gonna hurt."

Sam couldn't deny the relief he felt learning that Dean wasn't sealed. "The seven kids... are they your employees then?" Sam ventured. Accepting the bottle he took a deep drink. "I'm used to pain. Just do it," Sam said, steeling himself. A few of his patrons liked to play rough. Very rough. Even that was trivial to what he'd experienced before he had been sold into slavery. He took a deep breath and when he felt the blade go in, he let out with a soft muffled cry, but exhaled slowly, knowing that this, at least, would last only microns. He felt the warm liquid of his blood run down his shoulder and felt it as the man dug the transponder free of his flesh. He handed the liquor back to Dean to pour over the cut, hissing as it burned, then felt Dean use a sealer over the incision and bandage it to protect it. Dean handed him the blood coated disk. Sam looked around a moment then grabbed the first aid kit Dean had, closed it, and used it to repeatedly smash the little bastard device into bits and pieces.

That done, Sam pulled on a loose shirt, then a thicker shirt over that. He hated being cold. It reminded him too much of that time. He pulled out his pants and quickly finished disrobing, pulled on the pants, sock and shoes. They were soft shoes and wouldn't hold up to hard walking, but they were all he had. His athletic shoes always remained at the gym. Gently, he pulled out the small flowering plant he had nestled carefully in the bag and a necklace that he put around his neck. Bistronea had given it to him. It wasn't anything but a bauble, and he had long ago confirmed there were no electronics in it. If you knew how to twist it open her transponder frequency was etched into it. She had no great love of slavery and genuinely cared about Sam's welfare. She'd told him if he ever needed her, if he ever decided to 'leave' his current profession, she would do what she could for him. It had always been a small comfort to him. He also had a small bag of money and had grabbed two of the unopened bottles of ambrosa. He could barter them or drink himself into oblivion for a night if he needed to. The bottle of pills he brought was filled with pills that would permit him to sleep, some painkillers, and some pills for hangovers. He took one of the painkillers, dry swallowing it.

"Where are we going? Is your homeworld nearby?" Sam asked.

"How close is Earth?" Dean asked, tweaking Sin's face as he tried to rub off the blue make up. "That's homeworld." He looked into Sin's eyes, his hope of a direct answer this time making him hold his breath.

Sam frowned. "Earth?" Dean had asked him about Earth the night before and he tried to recall if there was ever any mention of its location. He shook his head. "I don't know. How close is it?"

The radio crackled then an announcement came through loud and clear. "All crafts that have departed Thiros in the last centar are to return to the docking bay immediately."

"Like hell we will." Getting up, Dean continued to look at Sin as he walked backwards, then turned to take the helm. "If you're coming up here, now would be the time. Otherwise, strap in," he said, taking the shuttle to manual and sharply veering off course.

Chapter Text

Sam quickly repacked his bag which he had since turned inside out so it wasn't some glittery eyesore then carried it up front and settled into the co-pilot's seat. The straps almost buckled of their own accord, his hands simply knowing how to latch them quickly. He stared at the controls and his breath caught. Swallowing hard, he forced his eyes to look out the front window rather than at all the blinking lights and panels. He couldn't help it when his eyes drifted down to the heading vector.

"No, we can't go this way!" Sam said, almost panicked. "That'll take us...take us into a bad sector! A heading of three twenty four by nineteen by sixty-seven, that'll take us away from Thiros and from...from where we don't want to go."

Frowning, Dean lost precious microns looking over at Sin and evaluating the coordinates he'd given. "Where is it that we do not want to go?" he demanded. He stubbornly kept course for a few more centons while he waited for an answer, but receiving none, cursed and re-directed the craft. He glanced at the visual scanner which showed no other crafts in the area. "No pursuit... I think we're in the clear," he said, plotting a course that would take them around a sun that would pretty much guarantee that they'd be hidden from the station's scanners, unless they had alpha class scanners, which was doubtful.

Sam was nearly ready to take over from the stubborn merchant when Dean finally veered away from the previous heading. Relief washed through him and he relaxed back against the seat. He folded his arms across his body almost as if he was hugging himself. After three yahrens of little changing, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised at how nervous he was. He had taken a leap of faith with Dean and could only pray that where ever he ended up was better than being a slave or...before.

Dean turned once again to Sin. "We've got to talk. Are you from Earth?" He leaned in, eyes locked with the man's. "The truth this time. I'm not role playing."

Sam leaned back, away from Dean. The intense look in the man's eyes almost unnerving. "I never said I was! I've heard of it. Old stories, old legends. I don't remember a lot of it. Rebels went off on their own, abandoning the other tribes." He stared a moment at Dean then looked down at his still blue-streaked skin. "This didn't have a fracking thing to do with not wanting to leave me behind, did it? You thought I was from Earth and you're looking for it." Sam snorted, a soft bitter laugh leaving him as he undid the straps with an almost practiced flick of the wrist. "Well after you extract your punishment for my deception, you can put me up for ransom and get back whatever you lost. Or sell me. I'm worth a small fortune. Everyone who stops at Thiros knows of Sin." Sam grabbed one of the scarves he had worn and went back to the restroom.

The sudden outburst left Dean shocked and slightly open mouthed, looking at the seat that had been abandoned by Sin. So he wasn't from Earth, yeah, that had been a long shot but yeah, he couldn't deny the sharp stab of hope. At the same time, over the yahrens, he'd gotten used to that hope getting dashed over and over.

Dean looked toward the back, the bathroom. Did Sin mean what he said? Expect him to do any of those things? He decided to give the guy some time to pull himself together and come to his senses.

After pulling off his two shirts Sam began using the wet scarf to scrub the blue paint from his skin. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment and he soaped the scarf again. He shook his head and fought back the tears. He was not going to cry. He was a fracking grown man and grown men didn't cry.

He had gotten most of the coloring off his arms and part of it off his face when everything just welled up inside him and took him to his knees. He found himself in the corner, sobbing softly, arms wrapped around his knees and his head buried in them. He wished they had killed him. It would have been kinder than making him live with it all. Maybe Dean would be furious enough, maybe he would kill Sam. He hadn't meant to deceive the man! If he hadn't, he was certain he would still be on Thiros, returning to his room to sleep off the night until Prem checked him for injuries and declared him able to work or not. With an all-nighter, he would probably have been given most the day off. If the crowds picked up he would be brought out then and auctioned off probably for small pleasures of blow jobs, jack-offs, and quick fucks. At least that he knew. That was predictable.

He thought of the pills he had brought. If he took a couple, he wouldn't care about anything for a while. Dean could beat him senseless and it simply wouldn't matter. It was a fracking shame he couldn't overdose on the drugs. Thiros had made sure of that though. Any attempt and the collar would punish him. Even if he wasn't on Thiros, the collar still functioned. He was still a slave and the collar would recognize Dean as his new owner soon enough. His bare skin against the cold metal of the ship made him shiver but he didn't bother to reach for his shirts. Dean would want them off when he delivered his punishment, of that he was certain. He wondered if Dean would use the scalpel or just his fists. Or maybe both.

When it became clear that Sin was not coming back out, and he'd keyed the destination coordinates and confirmed them, Dean switched to the automatic controls and sliding out of his seat, headed to the bathroom. The yellow light indicated the door wasn't looked. He knocked twice, waited a beat, then activated the door to open and entered the small space. "Sin!" Mouth pressed into a flat line at seeing him on the ground crying, Dean put his hand out. When Sin didn't respond, he crouched down next to him.

Sam didn't look up at the knock or the exclamation. He just shivered more violently, keeping his face buried in his arms. He waited to be struck for not responding immediately, for deceiving the man, for whatever the reason the man wanted to use. He sensed when Dean got down beside him and he just curled a little tighter in on himself and pressed himself closer against the hull.

There was silence for a while. Dean wasn't the best diplomat, or at comforting, and had to gear himself up for it. "Sin... look at me," he said, this time cupping the man's face and making him look up. "So you're not from Earth. That just means we have to keep looking for it, Earth, that's all. Nothing's changed. Nothing. You were free from the moment you stepped onto this shuttle. There's no ransoming you, or selling you or... Lords... punishing you. Come on..." he slid his hand down to Sin's throat to his shoulder, gently tugging him, "let's go where we're not so cramped, hmm?"

He let Dean lift his face to look at him. He knew his face was still tear streaked. Pathetic. He was fracking pathetic. He listened to Dean's words but didn't really believe him. He had been sweet talked before only to be coaxed out simply so the person had better access to him. It didn't matter. Dean was his new owner now. Whatever Dean wanted to do to him, he had no choice but to accept it.

Sam climbed to his feet, leaving his shirts laying on the floor and walked out in to the cabin, his head down. "How should I address you, sir? Where would you like me?" he asked softly. He hoped Dean didn't take his necklace or his plant. They were really his only possessions. No, he was a slave. He had no possessions. They were Dean's now.

"Dammit," Dean dry scrubbed his face with one hand and gently pushed him toward the bench seating. Once Sin sat down, he cleared his throat. "Listen. I don't know how to say this to you any clearer. You're not a slave... you're not a slave, all right? No one owns anyone... we're free men. Humans, and there aren't that many of us left, so we gotta stick together." He put his hand on Sin's shoulder, and then moved it to the side of his face to make sure he had Sin's attention. "What planet were you from?" He'd try to get Sin placed on a ship with survivors from his own home world, his culture. They could also do database searches for relatives and friends, but that was a long shot that they would find anything.

Sam let Dean guide him and he settled back into the seat he had first taken. When Dean insisted he was free he shook his head. He would never be free again. His breath caught a little in his chest when Dean said there weren't many humans left. Yeah. He knew that. He knew that all too well. It felt nice, to feel Dean's warm hand against his face and he couldn't help but lean a little into Dean's touch. He looked into those green eyes when the man asked him about his homeworld.

"Gone..." Sam choked out. "Destroyed. Doesn't matter."

"I know, I know that, Sin." For the second time, he crouched in front of the man who'd gone from someone who'd oozed confidence into an almost childlike state. "It's the same for everyone, but there's a lot of us left too." When Sin still didn't volunteer any information, Dean got up and sat next to him. "I'm from Caprica," he said, knowing that no matter what end of the universe Sin was from, he was likely to know of Dean's homeworld, in legend if nothing else. "There are a few hundred thousand of us," he nodded, a lump growing in his throat. There had been millions on millions before the Final Destruction. "Tell me your homeworld."

"Caprica?" Sam whispered and looked over at Dean in shock. "I knew some escaped the Twelve Colonies. A few hundred thousand? From all the Colonies? Or just Caprica?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, smiling slightly. "Just Caprica. More survived from the other colonies." The odds had been terrible, the destruction complete. But now that yahrens had passed, it was easier to be grateful for the numbers that had survived. Slapping Sin on the back, he pointed toward the front windows looking out into space. "All together, all colonies counted, there are a quarter million ships out there. All of them carrying humans... us. You're coming home, to your own people."

"What...what yahren is it?"

"6575"

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh," he said softly. Twenty four yahrens. It had been twenty four yahrens since... He'd only been a slave for about two and half yahrens if his reckoning was right though the early months were a little fuzzy for him. "So...are you really a merchant? Did any Battlestars survive? I heard rumors the Pegasus and Galactica did. Are they with this fleet of a quarter million ships?"

"They survived the Final Destruction but... the Pegasus was destroyed after. It was a big loss." That was an understatement. "It's a little difficult to believe but sometimes our own betray us." He was giving Sin a lot of information he knew he probably shouldn't, not until he was debriefed, but he couldn't help himself. "What happened to you?" He imagined slavers must have gone to Sin's planet and picked off those who'd survived and had no way to get off world.

Sometimes our own betray us... The words rang in Sam's mind. Yes. Yes he knew that all too well, too. He shivered and wrapped his arms around his bare chest, trying to stay warm. Not that he had any right to any creature comforts what-so-ever. Sam shook his head slowly. "Left behind. Abandoned. Sold into slavery. End of story." He looked over at Dean. "Did any of the older warriors survive? Do you know?" He knew it was horrible to hope that none had, but he did. Galactica. That was Caprica's battlestar. He searched his memories. "Is Adama still Commander? Colonel...Tigh. Tigh was his second, right? Did he live? Any one from any of the other Battlestars?"

"That's right. Adama is still Commander, and Colonel Tigh. That's where we're going. I'm stationed on the Galactica." He squeezed Sin's arm. "We don't abandon our own. My dad taught me that."

Sam gave a soft snort. Sure. Humans were damned good at abandoning their own. A frown creased his brow. "Stationed? You're a...warrior?"

"I'm as much a merchant as you are a blue skinned Selaran." He searched Sin's eyes, and put his reaction down to the fact he'd been captured. "They couldn't save everyone. I know, after what you've been through... it's no consolation." Getting up, he walked to the bathroom and brought Sin his shirts. "You're cold. Put these on." Holding them out, he added. "It's a lot to take in at once. I'll help you."

Sam hesitated then accepted the offered clothing. He pulled them on, wincing only slightly as the wound on his shoulder complained. What was he supposed to say? Go frack yourself? Until Dean removed the collar, Sam was his slave, whether Dean wanted to acknowledge it or not. "I'm going to go finish washing off the makeup if that's okay, sir?"

That set Dean's teeth on edge. "Do anything you want, Sin. Anything," he repeated, getting up and leaning against the wall, looking at the guy in exasperation. "I guess I thought you'd be... happier," he muttered, then walked up to the helm and sat down heavily. "The next twelve centars won't be quite as... fun as the last."

Sam stopped midstride and frowned again. He turned and walked back to the front. "Dean," he said softly, "I'm scared, okay? The past few yahrens my life has consisted of waking up, eating, studying, and servicing. Those I serviced were mostly to completely incompatible to humans. Now suddenly...I-I don't know what tomorrow will be. You say I'm free. I still have a collar. I have been told I would be free before. Then I discover removing the collar means one thing. Execution. So I begged them not to free me. I-I don't know you. You're a client. And now I learn you're a warrior and you're taking me to-to people that abandoned me. If you want me to act happy I can. But it doesn't change that I'm scared."

"No... I don't want that, I don't want you to act for me, not anymore." He locked gazes with Sin. The last twelve centars had been a lie, no matter how he wanted to remember it. He got that loud and clear, but he didn't want any more pretend. "I want you to remember the time before, before you were abandoned. If you're not that man now, you will be. No collar, I promise you... that collar goes as soon as we're home and have the equipment to take it off."

"I'll never be that man again," Sam whispered. He managed a slight smile for Dean. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned down and kissed Dean, not letting Dean take control this time. He pushed his tongue in between Dean's lips and gave Dean the best fracking kiss he could. He broke the kiss finally and looking rather pleased with himself, headed back to the bathroom. "For the record," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door, "the next twelve centars can be just as much fun as the last if you want. I wasn't acting, I did enjoy making love to you. And I really hate being bored. Gives a person too much time to think on things he doesn't want to think on."

Throwing his head back, Dean laughed a real laugh for the first time since they'd boarded. His mouth burned. He'd wanted to put his arms around Sin and pull him down. The kiss... it had been different. He looked to the back, but Sin was already in the bathroom. "We could play cards. I could teach you." There was a smile in his voice. As it was, he would probably be chewed out for having taken advantage of Sin after winning him. Maybe he'd keep a few facts to himself... maybe not.

Sam laughed a little softly to himself as he picked up the scarf, soaked it in warm water again and finished washing the last of the blue off his face and neck. He ran his fingers lightly over the collar. He couldn't remember seeing himself without it and he couldn't deny the cold fear that suddenly coiled in his gut at the thought. He left with Dean because Dean was human and because...because he had enjoyed sleeping with Dean more than anyone that he could remember. Oh, there had been a few that were close, but Dean had been downright amazing. He didn't leave with Dean because he expected to be free but because...because he wanted to be with Dean. He didn't expect that Dean loved him. He didn't love Dean. It was just the mentality of a slave and he knew it. If you found someone that you liked and who treated you kindly, you hoped that they would buy you or see you often. He had been alone for so many yahrens, maybe he thought he wouldn't be alone with Dean. If Dean freed him, he would be alone again. He didn't want that. He wasn't ready for that. Maybe he could convince Dean to keep him for a while. He popped out the blue contacts he still wore, rinsed them and dried them off, then rinsed out the scarf and hung it up to dry.

He left the bathroom and went to the emergency supplies. He pulled out two inflatable sleeping pads and thermal blankets. "So why don't you turn up the heat and come teach me how to play cards," Sam said as he hit the button that inflated the pads and set them next to each other. Looking up front at Dean he said, "I'm sure I could have a full pyramid in less than a few centons."

"Full pyramid in less than a few centons, huh. We'll see about that," Dean answered, standing up and stretching with his arms up above his head. He'd noticed how comfortable Sin was around the shuttle, how he'd easily worked the safety straps, and now found the resting equipment... moving around the shuttle as if he was familiar with space travel. Seeing that Sin's face was clear of anxiety, he decided not to probe. Plenty of others would question him once they got to the fleet. There were people better suited to ask questions in a non-threatening and more diplomatic way, he'd leave it to them.

He crossed the small distance between them, stood in front of Sin for a moment, meeting his eyes when he felt the electricity between them. Yeah, not like that was going to just go away. If the attraction hadn't been that strong, he would never have... Looking away, he passed Sin, brushing against him lightly to go to the closet. Returning with a full deck of cards, he dropped down on the sleeping pad.

When Dean touched him, even so lightly, Sam felt a smoldering desire to be touched there again. To be touched anywhere. He rolled his eyes when he saw Dean had actually gotten out cards. "That wasn't the sort of full pyramid I was talking about," Sam said looking down at his own groin. He collapsed down onto the bed, crossing his legs. "But if you'd rather play cards than help me grow my own pyramid...." Sam trailed off, then grinned. "After all, all you really have to do is stare at me. You've proven that."

Sam decided not to tell Dean he already knew how to play, though he suspected Dean would know. How could you work, be the gaming prize, and not know how to play? Then again, there were many of the pleasure slaves who didn't bother to learn the various card games and pyramid was only one of many. Of course Sam had known how to play cards since he was four, when his father, much to his mother's annoyance, taught him how to count and read numbers by playing cards. He was quite good at cards actually. He father had been quite the gambler. Then again, he had seen just how calm and cool Dean had been when he was playing to win him. Maybe cards would be fun. Fun...when was the last time he had had fun that wasn't sexual? He couldn't really remember. Some of his clients had liked to play various games, and he would give them a challenge but ultimately let them win. Should he let Dean win? No, Dean liked a challenge. If he could win, he would. Assuming Dean still really wanted to play cards.

"I said that, didn't I?" Dean gave a sheepish smile as he scratched his head and remembered his bombastic claim. "I may have been a little drunk and you're a little too good at making me feel like some sort of 'hot shot.'" A good socialator would do that for every client, and he had the feeling Sin was way above average. Looking up, he found himself staring at Sin's 'pyramid' and shook his head at himself, and started shuffling the cards with more zeal than necessary. "Getting caught flying with my pants down might not look so good on my record." He moved over and gestured for Sin to sit next to him. "I shuffled, you deal."

"I seem to recall you all but succeeding in just staring at me to make me come. If I hadn't begged you to show me how long you could hold your breath you would have. You are a fantastic lover, don't sell yourself short." Sam smirked when he saw Dean's gaze linger on his groin. "You said we had twelve centars. Surely you won't be back in contact with Galactica for six centars? Ten even? How would you get caught?"

At Dean's coaxing he moved next to him. Leaning in close he accepted the cards from Dean, making certain his fingers brushed over the man's as he swiped his tongue up the side of Dean's neck. As if nothing had happened he dealt out the cards and picked up his hand.

Dean sucked his breath in, fighting not to reach out and pull Sin up against him. To demand to suck that tongue into his mouth and... He blinked. "That's called cheating. You're trying to distract me, and it's not going to work." Under his breath, as he picked up the cards Sin was dealing, he muttered, "unless you bend backwards again like no human should be able to." Sin's dance had distracted him, as much as he'd struggled against that too. Twelve centars... it was going to feel like twenty four.

"I am not cheating. I am not trying to distract you. I am trying to entice you to make love to me again however." Hearing Dean's muttering quite clearly Sam added, "I'd be happy to bend that way for you anytime. You hardly got to see the repertoire of the positions I'm able to bend myself into."

Narrowing his eyes, Dean fought to keep the images of flexi-Sin out of his mind. The man had no idea how hard Dean was working to do the 'honorable' thing.

Glancing around, Sam pushed himself to his feet and retrieved the first aid kit. After settling down beside Dean again, he made sure their thighs were touching. He popped open the kit and pulled out all the bandages. He quickly counted out half for each of them. "The bigger the size the more it's worth, three smaller to one of the next size larger. Ante up."

Sam put one of the smallest bandages into the pot. He twisted his head and whispered in Dean's ear, "Just so you know. I'm as good at cards as I am at sex."

"Good to... know." The warmth of Sin's body seeped through Dean's pants and had him much too aware of the guy, and then he had to deal with Sin's hot breath in his ear and the reminder of how skilled he was at sex. His mind must have frozen, or he wasn't thinking with his upstairs mind, because the words just blurted out. "Let's see if you can win me then." His gaze met and locked with Sin's, his gut clenching at his own stupidity... Sin probably thought he meant that if he won, then Sin was his again to do with as he wished. He licked his lips. "I win, and you tell me something about yourself that you probably never would have otherwise."

"You're putting yourself up as the stakes?" Sam's eyes lit up. "You have absolutely motivated me," he said. "I think you're getting a poor bargain, asking only for words instead of service, though. Boring words at that."

"I told you that you'd never be a slave again," Dean answered seriously. Then the game began in earnest.

Hexagonal shaped cards were shuffled and reshuffled. Pyramids were made and band aid chips were exchanged. Frowns deepened as both men did their damnedest to win. Dean complained bitterly that Sin was cheating, and then was hard put to explain how biting one's lip or rubbing one's hand over their own thigh, or caressing the cards with a thumb could be considered cheating. The game took a lot longer than he expected, even accepting Sin's claim to be an expert player. In the end, Dean made a gamble, Sin saw him out, and Dean pushed the pot of band aids to the guy.

Sam grinned. "I win! Can I have anything from you that I want?"

"Nope. Just me, that's what you won," he answered, watching Sin warily as he shuffled and put the cards away.

Sam chewed on his lower lip. "Okay...then, I want you to be my new owner. I know!" Sam interrupted before Dean could protest. "I'm free. That's what you say. I know you mean it. But...I...I'm not ready to be free." He looked at Dean, his eyes begging for understanding. Right now, the thought of freedom terrified him. "Just for a little while," Sam pleaded.

Dean had to clamp down on the now familiar sense of frustration. Somehow, Sin got him riled too easily. "You mean until we dock?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes. The answer would be 'no,' no matter how much he pleaded. "Never mind," Sam said softly, feeling a tingle of despair run through him. "Just...just sleep beside me and hold me, then. Okay?" Sam began sorting out the bandages so he could put them away in the first aid kit neatly.

"Sure." Reaching out, Dean helped with the band aids, then raising his hand, put the box onto the bench seat next to them. "C'mere." He opened his arms wide, searching Sin's face. "You've been through a lot. Your life is about to change, I know you're worried about that, but... look, the worst part of it is over. It can only get better, right?"

Sam clenched his jaw. Better. Yeah. And if they found out who he really was he would go from a beautiful pretty prison to a small unadorned cell. That was what he deserved anyhow. He crawled closer to let Dean's arms wrap around him and stared into that handsome face. "Of course," he said, putting all the conviction he could behind it. He pulled Dean down to lay beside him and rested his head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He couldn't help the small tremor that passed through him.

Dean closed his arm around Sin, holding him securely, knowing it was what he needed. Feeling the shiver, he held him even closer, running his hand up and down his chest, to his throat, touching the side of his face. He didn't have the words to comfort, it was clear to him that he wasn't getting through. Letting out a soft breath, he dipped his face down and kissed Sin's temple, then spoke with his mouth still pressed against it. "Bet you haven't seen a good movie featuring humans in a long, long time. Or played a game of triad, or sank your teeth into a good old fashioned burger, hmmm?"

"No. I haven't. I used to be good at triad. I've had all the best foods from all the various worlds, but they weren't...my food." He chuckled a little. "And it was awful when one of my clients was from the less than compatible types. Their delicacies could be anywhere from frightening to disgusting. Some of the things I've eaten would probably make you puke." Sam tilted his head back. "Hey, my temple really can't appreciate that kiss the way my lips would. Wanna try that again?"

"Thought you wanted to sleep." Grinning, Dean swept his mouth across Sin's cheek, only to whisper in his ear. "I don't think that a lip lock is conducive to sleeping."

"And I thought you didn't want to get caught with your pants down, so maybe we better have our fun now and sleep after? I've decided that I would rather have my prize be you fucking me senseless. That sounds much better than sleeping. Then I can sleep in your arms. Is that modification of my wish acceptable, Lord Dean?" Sam rubbed back against Dean and ran his hand suggestively over the curve of Dean's ass. Sex was good. Sex he could get lost in and he could forget...that he would be alone soon.

"Let me think about that," Dean said, his entire body tensing with anticipation. A quarter micron later, he announced. "I think the modification is acceptable." He was already rolling them so he was on top, looking down into beautiful almond shaped eyes the color of the trees of Thorn Forest, famous for their ever changing shades of green. He kissed Sin lightly, tangling his tongue with Sin's as he pulled away. "You sure you want to be fucked senseless? You know I have the power of staring you into coming." He had to fight hard to prevent himself from laughing, still unable to believe he'd made that claim before. "It would be less messy and take up less energy."

Sam was started by the sudden movement that had their positions reversed and left Sam looking up into the man's face. He ran his fingers alongside Dean's cheek. "I am glad you approve. And I am certain I want to be fucked senseless," Sam said. "It's much more fun that just staring at me, isn't it? Surely there is nothing quite so good as touching Sin."

"Not arguing with you on that one. Still... you're easy on the eyes." Lowering his head, he slanted his mouth over Sin's, pushing his tongue inside and running it along the roof of his mouth, then sliding it against Sin's tongue, and engaging it in a dance. Oh yeah, Sin knew how to kiss, he fracking did. Dean cupped his neck and jaw, moving Sin's head from side to side as he deepened the kiss, the wet hot slide of their tongues making him think of how it felt when he was inside Sin, how it would feel soon, the thoughts making his blood thicken and drawing a moan out of him.

Sam kissed Dean back with as much fervor as Dean kissed him. He swallowed up every groan the man made. When they finally broke for a breath Sam looked up at him and suddenly giggled. "Okay, we have to stop for just a centon. You still have furry ears and crazy eyebrows. I want to make love to a human, not a T'lekian."

"Frack," Dean let out a heavy breath. He'd forgotten about that!

Sam gingerly loosened the added fur of the eyebrows and pulled them off as gently as possible, though Dean got a bit of an eyebrow waxing in the process. He turned Dean's head and did the same with each ear. Sam tossed the bits of fur aside and laughed again. "No, I just have to...just hang on a micron."

Slipping out from underneath Dean he hurried to the bathroom and retrieved the wet scarf. He scrubbed Dean's face clean of the last of the disguise. "There!" Sam proclaimed happily.

The entire time Sin was getting him cleaned up, Dean kept touching him, trying to entice him back into his arms. "Just remember, this disguise was your idea," he muttered.

Satisfied, Sin crawled headfirst alongside Dean, and began rubbing his cheek along the man's groin then pushed Dean over onto his back and straddled Dean's chest, bending over so his ass was in Dean's face as he began to tease Dean through Dean's pants.

The last thing he'd expected was for Sin to rub his face over the growing bulge in his pants. No, the very last thing he'd expected was to be mounted this way. No... maybe every last thing Sin did to him was the most unexpected thing. Dean's muscles tensed, his blood surged directly to his cock, filling and thickening it with every touch of Sin's face and hands. "Oh by Lords," he rasped, involuntarily lifting his hips up.

Sam loved how responsive Dean was to him. For someone who didn't sleep with men typically, Dean certainly seemed to be enjoying this. Maybe if he was good enough, he could convince Dean to keep him.

Dean rubbed Sin's ass, sliding his palms up and down his cheeks, to his hips and thighs and back. Pulling the material of his pants down, he got a glimpse of the top part of his ass and sucked his breath in. His fingertips danced over newly revealed flesh, his thumb disappearing down the crack. "Wonder what it would feel like to fuck upside down," he mused, trying to keep his voice steady despite the images of Sin, naked and lower on his body, torturing his mind. Reaching around, he started to undo the fastening of Sin's pants, anxious to see and feel more of him. Now.

When Dean began rubbing his ass, Sam moaned appreciatively, rocking back and forth just a bit. He wriggled under Dean's light touch. "Mmm," Sam moaned as he wrapped his mouth around the side of Dean's shaft, the material a barrier preventing him from actually touching it. Sam finally began to open Dean's pants. As soon as he spotted the tip of Dean's cock he darted his tongue in, running his tongue slowly over the slit then swirled it around the crown. He inched the pants open a bit more and teased his tongue around Dean's cock as Dean worked on his own pants.

"Fuck upside down," Sam asked in between his licks and sucks on Dean's still mostly trapped cock. "Me upside down? You upside down? I can probably," he sucked hard on Dean's tip, swallowing down the leaking precum, "get in any position you can imagine."

Jerking upwards, Dean's hands stilled as a jolt of heat passed through him. Sin's mouth pressing over the barrier of cloth, then slipping over small areas of his hard flesh, then moving back over the barrier where there was less sensation was driving him out of his mind. And Sin knew it. "You're killin' me," he pointed out, only just managing to push Sin's pants down under the curve of his ass.

Sam grinned. "Now if I killed you who would fly the ship? Besides, I have too much planned for you for that."

Dean licked his lips, something between a groan and a laugh breaking from him. "It wouldn't take acrobatics. Meant lay on me face down, like you are, but down further so our cocks are next to each other and..." he lifted his hips, once again imagining them lined up so their cocks were rubbing. "Wha... what did you mean by upside down?" Now he was wondering if there was some other position that he just had to try.

"Ah," Sam said, finally opening Dean's pants all the way. He went down on Dean in one swoop, keeping Dean in his mouth, swallowing again and again as he rolled his tongue around the man's cock. He slowly drew off, sucking hard, coming off with a pop so loud it echoed off the metal walls of the shuttle. Wrapping his hand around Dean's thick and pulsing member, he sucked on its tip. "Mmm, you sure taste good."

"Fuuuck..." writhing under Sin's mouth, Dean half sat up on his elbow, trying to see... dying to see. His free arm wrapped around Sin's waist and he pushed his hand inside his pants, pressing the heel of his hand against his hard flesh, tracing his shaft.

Dean's touch almost made him thrust, loving the feel, but forcing himself to concentrate on what he could offer Dean. Sam ran his hand up and down Dean's shaft a few more times. "I can hang upside down and you could fuck my mouth. Or you could hang upside down and I could suck you off. We don't have a net but could maybe rig one with ropes and string it from the compartments. You could lay on it, suspended and pound down, fucking me through the netting. I can do a handstand, and you could fuck my ass as I do pushups against you. There are all sorts of possibilities. Anything you want. Just name it."

"Oh my gods..." Biting his lip hard, Dean rode out the heat waves crashing over him. "Know how I can stare you into coming? Sin, I think... I think you're gonna talk me into coming."

Laughing delightedly, Sam went down on Dean again just as he had before but this time put pressure against Dean's hand inside his pants, letting his own thrusts lift his mouth just a little off of Dean's shaft before going back down. He finally pulled off again. "Wouldn't you rather be in me when you come? You could bend me over the pilot's seat and push in. Or I can hang from the door frame and lower myself onto your very," he licked Dean's cock, "delicious," then swirled his tongue around the crown, went down, and pulled off, "cock."

"Sin!" He was literally afraid of coming right there and then. Squeezing Sin hard, trying to give him something else to think about instead of torturing him with words, he tried to gain some control over his body. Right... not when that sinful mouth was so close to his hard flesh that he could feel Sin's hot breaths. "No more talking. I'll... I'll tell you my decision, later," he said through gritted teeth.

The hard squeeze on his own cock was nothing he hadn't had done before and though it was enough to draw a gasp from him, it only made him want to tease and taunt his companion more. He was, beyond a doubt, pushing Dean closer and closer. No more talking though? That took all the fun out of it. He began to work in greater earnest, wanting to bring Dean to the blade's edge and hold him there for as long as humanly possible.

Pushing forward more, pressing his face against Sin's back, he freed Sin from his pants and started to stroke his shaft, rolling his thumb over his crown, spreading his precum, using it as lubricant. He followed the rhythm Sin set, squeezing and stroking him in counterpoint to Sin's mouth and hand working his own cock.

The position was hard on his back, and he eventually dropped back down, arm still tight around Sin's waist, pulling him back, and laughing when Sin fell hard on top of him. Yeah, Dean no longer had any pressure on his own cock but Sin's was fair game now. Holding him more firmly, he started to jack him, the way he would if it were his own dick in his hand, thrusting up against Sam's ass at the same time. "Twelve centars may not be enough..." he said thickly.

Sam was definitely startled to find himself sitting on top of Dean, held in place, and when Dean began to return the favor of stroking his member he groaned in approval. He felt Dean's cock slide between his cheeks again and again as Dean brought him closer and closer to coming. "We can always have engine trouble," he suggested between his panting.

He carefully set his feet down to get a bit of leverage and the next time Dean pulled back to thrust again, Sam reach between them, grabbed Dean's cock, and deftly guided it to where they both wanted it to be. He arched and pressed down hard, spearing himself on the man's cock with a shout.

A string of oaths left Dean's mouth as he gripped Sin's hip, his head banging against the thin padding of the sleep pad, teeth gritted together as white hot heat lanced through his body. In that single move, his cock was lodged deep inside Sin, and he could hardly breath as Sin's muscles clenched tightly around him. "Now you're trying to kill yourself... not just me," he said in a strained voice, fighting not to start fucking into Sin.

Yeah, it hurt to be suddenly filled like that, but this was his choice, not some client deciding to shove in when he felt like it. And Sam loved every micron of the burning stretch and pain and urged Dean with every muscle he had to start moving inside him.

It was an impossible battle. Especially with Sin's typical lack of cooperation. Instead of helping him be patient, Sin was clenching and moving, and starting to ride his cock. "Gnuh..." Dean started to thrust up, one hand clamped over Sin's thigh, pulling him closer. "Fuck.. fuck..." Once they were in synch, he pushed Sin a little forward, then pulled him back... and knew by the sounds that broke from him when he was hitting his prostate. "Good... so good," he said, putting his feet flat on the ground for more leverage as he pushed up, muscles straining as he pushed in and part way out of Sam's ass, his heart banging against his chest so loud it was almost all he could hear.

Sam honestly hadn't expected Dean to think about trying to hit his prostate and was confused at the way Dean was adjusting and readjusting until he felt that explosion of pleasure that, if Dean hadn't had such a tight hold of him, might have had him arched up and off Dean. "By the Lords," Sam gasped. Just as before he did something a pleasure slave shouldn't do, he took instead of gave. He rocked and bounced and rode, pulling everything out of Dean that he could, but took it for himself. He hardly recognized the sounds spilling from his lips. He and Dean were so perfect together, a well-oiled machine and he pushed up as Dean pulled back, then shoved down and Dean thrust up. Again and again until the shuttle was filled with their grunts and cries of pleasure.

"Uhn, Dean, Dean, Deannn!" he shouted as his cum shot free as he stiffened and clenched, trying to pull Dean right along with him on his wave of ecstasy.

Hearing his name pushed Dean over the edge. Gripping Sin with bruising force, he ground his hips harder up into him, shouting his name as Sin clenched his muscles tight and Dean dragged his cock half way out and slammed back inside him, climaxing so fucking hard he didn't know what he was saying even as he rubbed his mouth against Sam's back, half sitting, still pressing his hips up, riding every last wave of pleasure, milking it.

When Dean collapsed down, legs straightening, the burn finally melted as his muscles relaxed. Both arms around Sin, he kissed his neck, realizing for the first time they hadn't even managed to get their clothes off. "Furry ears notwithstanding... are you pleased with your winnings?" All he knew was that a win for Sin had turned out to be win for him.

Dean's words made Sam tense a little even though those lips on his neck made him moan softly. He felt suddenly guilty. He was the pleasure slave. He didn't have any right to be doing this.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I wasn't...I never should have done that to you. It wasn't my place to force you like that." He gently lifted himself off of Dean, pulling Dean's flaccid cock from him. He turned in Dean's arms, his come covered stomach pressed against Dean's. "I shouldn't have won. I should have let you win. But I wanted...I wanted to have sex with you again and I didn't know if you would if I didn't. You wanted me to tell you something I wouldn't otherwise tell you. I can't speak of the before times, before the slave collar, but...I knew your homeworld. There. There's my payment for what should have been your winnings. Is that acceptable?" He tilted his head back so he could see Dean's face. "Please forgive me, Dean. I took what I should have been giving. We have many centars left. I would like to redeem myself." Sam ran his hand over Dean's chest, circling his fingers around Dean's nipple. "Tell me how I might please you most." He pulled back and gave Dean an almost stern look. "And I don't want to hear a repeat that I am free. I want to do this more than anything. I want to give you your most erotic fantasy." Sam stuck his tongue out and slowly circled Dean's nipple, then sucked on it, drawing it up hard before he asked again. "Tell me your fantasy with me."

All sorts of emotions stirred in Dean's chest. He felt his throat close up at the things Sin was saying, that he'd been brainwashed into thinking. He had this incredible urge to go back to that station and punch the living daylights out of the people who had done this to him. Licking his lips, he put a hand between them to prevent Sin from wreaking havoc with his senses and blocking his ability to think.

"The things we did at the station, and now... they are my most erotic fantasies, Sin." He looked away for a moment, and then back at Sin. "Please don't ruin it for me with talk of cheating... losing on purpose, or being forced to do what I want. That is not my fantasy. It's just not." He reached out, cupping Sam's cheek. "Any hint that you were 'faking it'... or that you lost on purpose and ... this... no way it would be happening."

Slowly, he sat up and dry scrubbed his face with one hand, then looked into Sin's still flushed face. "You wanted to have sex with me, great. That I'm on board with. But I don't need you serving me. I need you to be right there with me, dying for it, enjoying it... getting what you need, or it's not real. I only want real from you. Can you understand that?" he asked, leaning closer, his mouth inches from Sin's. "Want you to feel something... just because."

Sam was disappointed when Dean stopped him from continuing his attention on Dean's nipple, but listened with rapt attention to the man's words. If this was the man's most erotic fantasies, Dean really needed to expand his repertoire, but he had been pretty creative in the suite at the station. Sam was in no way faking anything other than that first smile when Dean refused to accept him as his slave. When he recalled that, his heart clenched with sadness and he still could not quell the tiny flame of hope that Dean would change his mind.

"I am with you. I have not enjoyed someone as I have enjoyed you in many many sleep cycles. There's no lie or deception in that. You don't want me serving you...I don't know how not to because I want you to be happy, I want you to love making love to me so much you don't wish to give me up. I can't get any more real for you. I do feel something. You have made me feel such things that I never thought I would feel ever again. If you want real from me, then real is that I want to please you. I can't change that...this is what I am now. I feel guilty for the feelings you give me because when I am lost in them, I can't concentrate on pleasing you." Sam cupped Dean's face the same as Dean did his. "I have been trained to keep my own feelings under control and for my companion to be my sole focus. You," Sam shook his head, "are utterly and completely fracking up all my training. If you had been told repeatedly you were not to kiss a girl whom you really wanted to, had been disciplined if you slipped and tried, and finally you got the chance, you would enjoy it to the depths of your soul, but it doesn't mean you wouldn't feel guilty about going against your discipline and a part of you would expect to be punished for it." Shaking his head again, Sam said, "Let's forget this discussion. I don't want to ruin this either. I want to go back to you continuing my wish. I'm obviously not yet fucked senseless because I'm far too coherent."

At that point Sam practically pounced Dean, welding their lips together in a scorching kiss.

Sonovabitch. It was too damned easy for Sin to get him off track, to get him all tangled up and hot with need. Closing his arms around Sin, molding him up against his frame, Dean kissed him back with all that he had, pushing his tongue past Sin's teeth, searching every corner of his mouth, demanding as good as he was giving. Moving his mouth back and forth over Sin's, he lifted one hand and cupped the side of the man's jaw, holding him in place as he tongue fucked him.

By the time Dean broke the kiss, he was fucking breathless. "That part about fracking up your training? I like it.... like it a lot, Sin." He wanted to ask about his time on Caprica, and why it was a secret, but the words died on his lips as lust flared deep inside his belly... Hands sliding to the bottom of Sin's shirt, he tugged it up, over his head and tossed it down. His heated gaze traveled down the chiseled planes of Sin's body, lingering in the areas he longed to kiss and tongue, a low groan breaking from him as he looked down at Sin's already erect cock. "Take your pants off," he said, eyes locked with Sin's as he got up on his knees and he pulled his own pants completely off. "Handstand... you can really do that while I... I fuck you?"

Sam had to admit Dean was the best fracking kisser he had ever encountered. He had originally put a few others of his clients up there, but after that last mind numbing kiss, no Dean was the winner, hands down. He liked the way Dean's gaze raked over him and he could feel himself getting harder, just from that look. Sam began to slide out of his pants when Dean's words registered. He grinned. "I wouldn't have said I could do it if I couldn't." He finished pulling off his own pants. "Stand up," he encouraged. "You need to be hard."

As soon as Dean was on his feet, Sam immediately went to work on Dean's cock with his mouth. Wrapping his arms around Dean's hips he licked and sucked and hummed and caressed, fondling the man's balls, licking his own fingers and running those wet fingers down Dean's crack and circling Dean's hole again and again, pushing lightly against it in time with his bobbing head. When Dean was good and hard, he looked up and Dean and slowly pulled his mouth free of Dean's cock with a nice obscene pop.

"I'll handstand now," he said, stroking Dean's cock with his hand. "My ankles will be on your shoulders. Step back slowly until you think the angle is right. You get your cock aligned. As I straighten my arms you push in slowly. You adjust your stance until it's comfortable for you. You'll need to lean over. Just hold onto my legs. Once you're comfortable, start a slow thrust. Then I'll take it from there."

Watching him through heavy lidded eyes, Dean wanted to protest the loss of Sin's mouth around his cock. He nudged his cock closer, a silent plea in his eyes. He was trying to listen to Sin's instructions... really was, but with Sin's mouth that close, and his hot breaths fanning his wet cock with every word, it was a miracle Dean wasn't forgetting about the fancy footwork and bending Sin over the bench.

Sam gave Dean's cock a final suck on his tip, then went into a handstand, facing away from Dean. "Move forward, wrap your arms around my legs....Not tightly, I need to spread open for you...that's it...now step back, and align yourself." Sam felt Dean's blunt tip. "Lean forward, between my legs a little. Okay, now push in."

The sight of Sin's nude body from this angle, legs open, hole exposed and waiting for him had every muscle in Dean's body clenching with desire and immediate need. He aligned himself, hands gripping Sam's thighs, then loosening his grip to allow Sam to better fit them together, then shifting slightly until their bodies slotted together. Biting his lower lips, he started to push down, moaning at the sight of his tip disappearing into Sam's tight body.

Bracing himself, Sam's arms didn't even shake. He wrapped his legs just a little around Dean's shoulders and when he felt the gentle pressure he slowly straightened his arms pushing himself onto Dean's cock as Dean's cock pushed inside him. He let Dean adjust and shift and when Dean started to thrust, Sam bent his arms then straightened them almost as if doing a push up. Sam knew this position was a little awkward at first until they each learned the other's weight and balance and motion. Sam groaned as he thrust back on Dean. "Oh yeah, perfect," Sam purred.

"Perfect... yeah..." Dean grunted, fucking down slowly as Sin lifted up and down, his biceps bulging but otherwise showing no signs of strain. "It's... surreal," he said, moving a little harder, testing how hard he could go without toppling them over. It was unbelievable how steady Sin was, how good this felt. His cock got unbelievably harder, the walls of Sin's tight hole squeezing him tighter, so fucking tight it made him ache and pulse worse. "You're gonna have me crying like a girl," Dean grit out, the waves of pleasure so intense, his head snapped back and his fingers bit into Sin's sculpted thighs.

Sam managed a slight chuckle in between his groans of pleasure. "I just want...to make you...shout...my name," he gasped, more from the pleasure than from any strain.

As he moved up and down, pushing his hard flesh deep inside Sin's warm channel, Dean ran one hand over Sin's thigh, then down to his stomach. The way Sin's muscles clenched under his palm sent vibrations through his body. "Good... so good, Sin," he said, moving a little harder, a little faster, fingertips dancing over Sin's belly... hand brushing his cock. He teased a little while longer, then rhythmically moved his middle finger along Sam's shaft, from its base to as far as he could reach and back to its base. He leaned in a little more, wanting, needing to see Sin's face... groaning when he noticed how Sin's bottom lip jutted out. "God I want to kiss you."

If Sam hadn't done this the number of times he had, Dean's gentle caresses along his stomach and cock would have made him lose his rhythm. Instead he was able to let training take over and keep sliding along that slick shaft while enjoying Dean's touch, his muscles almost fluttering under his fingers. When he felt Dean begin to experiment he shifted his balance and focus, never losing pace. When Dean said he wanted to kiss him, he tightened his legs around Dean.

"We can do that," Sam said and slowly began inching his way toward the bench seats just a few steps away, pulling and guiding Dean with each thrust. "Push in, steady my hips, stand firm," Sam told him when he reached the bench.

As soon as Dean did, Sam used the bench to help him curl up without pulling Dean down on top of him. Shifting his arms so they were under him, he reached up with one arm and looped it over Dean's neck, one arm still on the seat and supporting him. He pulled Dean down as he began moving on Dean's cock again and brought their lips together, groaning into Dean's mouth as their tongues began to tangle.

No way...no way such acrobatics were possible... and yet... He was fucking Sin upside down, with Sin's only support being his hand on the bench, pressing him close, and the arm around Dean's neck. It was hard... keeping his balance ... focusing... in the face of the firestorm of needs rushing through him, and the sheer disbelief. As they moved together, his tongue twisted around Sin's, moans muffled by Sin's mouth. He couldn't get enough ... enough of his taste, enough of their bodies touching, he wanted to fuck harder and their position made it impossible, tortured him with pleasure and pain.

It was like fucking in slow motion, the pressure building in his loins but with no immediate outlet, a dam about to burst. Sucking Sin's tongue into his mouth hard, closing his eyes, he forced himself to keep the slow pace even as his kisses became rougher, harder, a reflection of his body's growing need. Only when he couldn't take it another micron, when Sin's earlier pleas to fuck him senseless were resounding mercilessly in his head, did he break the kiss. "Handstand... now," he snapped.

Sam did not want to break the kiss but knew Dean was being ridden hard by lust, the way his kissing grew in demand and intensity. Sam had been trained to keep his own desires under lock and key and no matter how long his client wanted it drawn out, he could maintain control. The pleasure was slow and excruciatingly wonderful. Dean's order, if nothing else out of sheer training, had him immediately breaking the kiss and as Dean stepped back from the bench Sam dropped back down, moaning at the new angle and shift of Dean's cock inside of him.

A centon later, they were back where they started, Sin pressing up and down while Dean fucked down into him, harder and harder... still not enough. Gripping Sin's thighs, he pulled one away from his body, forcing Sin to open his legs wider as Dean lifted his own leg and stepped over Sin, scissoring him so that one of his legs was behind Sin's ass, the other in front of Sin's face. He didn't let Sin bring the leg he'd pulled away back over his shoulder. This time he grabbed Sin's thighs with both hands, fingers biting into flesh and muscle, as he lifted Sin up each time he pushed down. "Oh gods... oh gods... oh fuck..." He couldn't control his groans, any more than he could stop himself from pulling Sin up roughly, driving into him full force as if Sin were on all fours and not just his arms. "Fuck... oh gods...."

The new position Dean moved him into was awkward and just as he was getting his balance he felt Dean's impatience win out. The feel of Dean's ass against his inner thigh, sliding up and down had getting him harder and he felt the precum dripping from his cock. Dean was fucking into him harder and harder but he could tell Dean wasn't getting what he needed, in part because Sam wasn't clenching, wasn't giving Dean that final bit of pressure on his cock. He wanted to draw it out, have Dean so desperate with need Dean would be begging to come. Sam listened to Dean, listened to his gasps and curses and grunts, trying so hard to get Sam to give up what he needed.

It went on and on until Dean thought he'd go mad with the need for release. Each time he pulled out and slammed back into the wet tight heat of Sin's body, he groaned and grunted, cursing as he chased that sweet torturous tension... needed it like he needed to breathe. And then Sin clenched around him so hard, just like that it triggered Dean's climax. "Sin!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs, he shouted again as his body tightened... his release tearing through him as ropes of hot cum filled Sin again and again.

It was perfect, a magnificent ripple. He tightened his muscles at just the right moment, giving Dean that last erotic touch. Hearing his name ripped from Dean's lips practically made his own body convulse and he let out with a shout of his own. Dean's sudden tension was followed immediately with wet heat filling Sam up. That heat, coupled with Dean's second shout triggered his own release and he arched, moving his head out of the way of his own thick lines of cum while at the same time allowing him to milk Dean's cock, drawing out as many pulses as he could from the man. His own cock echoing Dean's he groaned and he slowed his pushups, bringing Dean's trembling body down slowly from the release. Finally he let his elbows flex deep, pulling himself free of Dean, twisting his body so he was once again between Dean's legs as he sat up. Wrapping his arms around Dean's hips he pulled the barely standing man down, pushing himself back and allowing his chest to be Dean's cushion as he all but collapsed on top of Sam.

Sam laughed softly as he clutched Dean against him, both of them still catching their breaths. "I think I fucked you senseless instead of the other way around," Sam said, but felt his eyes grow heavy. His arms ached, his ass ached, and his blood began redistributing itself since he was no longer upside down. He let the darkness of sleep take him, a pleased smile on his face as he drifted off.

"You think so, huh?" Dean asked, still trying to control his breathing and heart beats. When he looked down, he saw Sin's eyes were closed. Chuckling, he made a note to ask him whether he'd bored him that much. Holding him closer, he pulled the sleep blanket over them, and found a comfortable position. Without realizing it, he was stroking Sin's chest and breathing in his scent, enjoying the stillness between them as much as the storm they'd created.

Chapter Text

Several centars ago, Dean had been in touch with the Galactica and advised both of his approach and that he was bringing a survivor of the Final Destruction. He'd felt a thrill go through him, using the word 'survivor', but he'd noticed Sin tense a bit. The more time that passed, the more strained Sin appeared to get. His carefree smile and almost constant sexual teasing were long gone. Instead, to Dean, he appeared unable to relax.

Sam tried hard not to show his panic as they got closer to their destination. He concentrated on cleaning up any evidence of their escapades. He reorganized the first aid kit after Dean had changed out the bandage on his back. There were a few items in the kit he didn't recognize and discreetly investigated them, seeing how they worked and what they did. Then he reorganized the kit again. He folded and and repacked his bag of belongings a couple times, wanting to make certain his plant was well protected and his cubits were hidden. Snaking the deck of cards they'd used, he hoped that Dean wouldn't notice that it was missing. He could make cubits playing cards and income was a good thing. About a dozen times, he wondered if he'd have come with Dean if he'd known Dean was a warrior and they were headed to join a fleet of surviving Colonists. He answered his own questions with a 'yes' when he looked at the handsome man, but with a 'no' when he thought about where they were going to be, where he was going to be. It had been twenty four yahrens. Maybe...maybe after all this passage of time, his horrible secret would be remain a secret.

Dean's attempts to get Sam caught up in conversation hadn't worked. Somehow, he kept putting his foot in his mouth or said things that seemed to trigger a negative response from Sin. He didn't understand why, but whether he talked about the past... their lives on the Twelve Colonies, or the present, on the Galactica, Sin seemed to freeze up or get defensive. Eventually, Dean lapsed into silence, only promising one more time that things would be alright, that they weren't as bleak as Sin was making things out to be.

With the tension in the small shuttle thickening and with him having no clue how to change the situatation, Dean was never more happy to have the Galactica and the armada of ships visible. Releasing his breath, he radioed in, and chatted easily with Athena. She was curious about whether he'd found a place for shore leave and who it was that he was bringing in. Dean teased her with information on both counts, never satisfying her curiosity because he'd be debriefing soon and because he was like that.

When Sam heard Dean contact the Galactica he walked from the cabin up to the front and looked out the window. Ships. Thousands of ships. Most looked beaten up, scarred from attacks. Even the Galactica, she looked old to him. Maybe he just had an illusory recollection of her that he had created in his mind. He listened to the woman's voice. A human woman. It was hard to believe. His eyes scanned over the rag-tag fleet and his breath caught again. All that was left of humanity. And some of this was his fault.

He turned away and went back to the cabin. He knew he should buckle in but instead he sat on the floor, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. Just as earlier in the bathroom he buried his face in his knees and felt the tears. He didn't want to go to the Galactica, he didn't want to talk with people. The woman, 'Athena' Dean had called her, had called Dean 'captain.' That meant Dean had private quarters. He wanted Dean to take him to his quarters and let him hide there. He would be happy to just stay in his quarters and never come out again if Dean was there. He didn't want to do this. By the Lords of Kobol, he did not want to do this. He fought back the insane urge to rush to Dean and beg him to return him to Thiros. Or to sell him off somewhere. Or to let him contact his friend Bistronea and ask her to come get him. He would be happy being owned by her. She was a very kind female and good in bed. Anything, anything at all other than ending up on the Galactica.

When he heard the sound of the engines change he knew they were going in for a landing. To keep from crying, to keep his sobs locked inside him, he bit his lip hard enough he tasted blood. Maybe Dean would change his mind and agree to keep him. Maybe he had been good enough that Dean would want to keep him. Please let him have pleased the warrior enough to keep him...

"Sin you buckled up? Come up here," Dean said, wanting him to see the view. When he got no answer and turned back, he saw Sin sitting on the floor. He was on approach and couldn't leave the helm. What he could do was make this the softest fracking landing ever, and that's what he did.

Instead of opening the hatch immediately, even though several people were approaching the shuttle, Dean unclipped himself and walked to the back. Bending, he pulled Sin up and refusing to take 'no' for an answer, sat him on the bench. "We're here," he stated the obvious, giving Sin's shoulder a squeeze. "Come on Sin, this can't be any worse than escaping Thiros. Your life was on the line back then, it isn't here. For the first time in yahrens, you'll be with your people... safe." He ignored the pounding on the shuttlecraft's door. "Walk with me."

Dean's words hardly even registered. Sam heard the pounding on the door and felt a corresponding pounding in his own chest. No! He didn't want to go! He should have never left Thiros. He should have just stayed there. He didn't want to be here.

Throwing his arms around Dean, he buried his face in Dean's neck. "Please keep me," Sam begged. "I've got...I've got all sort of talents you have't even seen yet. You're a captain. You have private quarters. I'll stay there. I'll never show my face. No one ever has to see me once I go inside. Just please keep me."

"Sin." Letting out a breath, Dean held him for a long centon, then spoke in a low comforting voice. "Remember how you smiled and joked on Thiros? At all those people you didn't know? At me? Do that Sin... pretend we're back there if it helps, that you're just meeting people who've come to have a good time." He kissed his temple lightly, then got up, pulling Sin with him. "You're gonna do great. Trust me." Gripping Sin's arm, he started walking him to the hatch, very aware that Sin was dragging his feet. "By tomorrow, you'll be comfortable... you'll own the ship," he joked.

The answer was still 'no', Dean still wouldn't keep him. At Dean's suggestion he shook his head. On Thiros he wanted to get noticed. The more popular he was, the more money he made the station, the more money he got, the better the treatment he got. Here, he didn't want anyone to notice him, didn't want anyone to see him. He wanted to be a ghost. He took what brief comfort Dean offered, then resigned himself to his fate. He was good at that. He had had a lot of practice at that. Sam clutched his bag to him, hunched over and bowed his head as Dean guided him to the hatch.

He heard the door hiss open as the inside cabin pressure balanced with the very slight change of pressure in the bay. He didn't look at anyone though his mind cataloged the voices. At least seven people. Of course. Eight in a squadron. Those would be Dean's squadron. Looking through his bangs he saw two black uniforms amid the tan. Security. Did they already...know? No, it was just procedure. Stranger in the landing bay. Civilian. That was all, he tried to convince himself.

If Dean didn't want him, maybe he could slip away, hide. Maybe he could steal a shuttle and leave, get away from the fleet. He tugged his arm free of Dean's and pushed through the cluster of people, running for the shadows. Maybe he could get to a lift, hide on a different level and sneak back down.

"Sin!" Dean had been about to introduce him when the taller man started to run down the aisle of shuttles and other craft.

Sin felt the collar give him a warning jolt. It had made its adjustment. Having recieved no confirmation signals from Thiros, registering the control box in Dean's possession, and Sam's close and solitary interaction with Dean, it judged Dean to be his new owner and Sam was running from him.

"Stop! Sin... stop." Just as Dean started after him, security started to run after the newcomer as well. Dammit, maybe instead of fucking him for all those centars, he should have prepared Sin better for this. He was kicking himself even as he tried to catch up. "Sin... Leave him," he shouted as one of the guards approached.

Sam kept moving, hoping he could still get away, but when he heard Dean's order to 'stop' the collar released a severe jolt of electricity sending Sam to his knees and cradling his head against the painful, punishing energy. It was too late. Dean had given him an order and he was forced to obey, the collar disciplined him from doing anything further that countered Dean's desires.

Even before security touched Sin, Dean saw him fall to his knees. What the hell? When he got to his side, he saw him clutching at the neck collar. Dropping down next to him, he touched the collar, hooking his finger around it. "What happened?" Before Sin could answer," he shouted out, "I want a tech on this right away. Get this thing off this man." He got up and squeezed Sin's shoulder. "Just hang in there, I'll have this taken care of. Sin can you hear me?"

"It'll probably be a few minutes before he can move, Dean," Michael, Dean's first lieutenant, said to him as he approached, worry on his face. He hadn't heard the survivor was a slave. The man was certainly well built and strikingly handsome. Looking at the way the man was dressed, the odds were he may well have been a pleasure slave.

Dean nodded at Michael, "Yeah I know."

"Captain," one of the security officers said, "Commander Adama would like to see you stat."

"Alright, just let me..."

"We'll take care of him," Security reassured Dean.

Letting out his breath, Dean agreed. "Sin, they'll take care of you. I'll see you later... everything's gonna be fine," he said, walking away, but looking over his shoulder at him.

"I'll make sure they get that off him," Mike offered. "In the meantime... we getting shoreleave or what?" The look on the Captain's face made his own fall. Cursing, he went back to the human Dean had discovered and rescued.

Sam sat on the cold metal floor, trembling. Dean was having his collar removed. A part of him knew Dean promised him freedom, that the collar would come off and that would be a good thing, but he had been disciplined so severely in the beginning his mind couldn't get past the training. Removing the collar meant death. Execution. He didn't want to die. He might deserve it, but he didn't want to die. His brain tried hard to repeat what Dean had told him on the shuttle, but removal of the collar...death...it was too ingrained into him. Dean said these people would take care of him, that he would see him later...the collar would stop him from going after Dean, from beggom Dean not to remove the collar, not to execute him for not doing as he was told. He would stay where he was until he was told to do something otherwise. He couldn't run at this point. He was now in the care of these strangers. He kept his head bowed and waited. He knew better than to speak unless spoken to.

Arriving at the newcomer's side, Mike waved the others off. "Nothing to gawk at, you'll get it on the news tonight." He glanced at security who let the warrior take the lead in dealing with the slave and ushered onlookers away.

Mike searched Sin's face and saw that his eyes were responsive now. He motioned toward the collar with his hand. "Let's get that taken care of. By the way, I'm Michael," he said, eyeing the single bag the man had. "I guess you didn't get much of a chance to pack. Well... let me steal Adama's thunder and be the first to welcome you to the Battlestar Galactica."

Sam stared up at the warrior whose care he was apparently in. He clutched his bag a little tighter to him when Michael looked at it. After a moment, he swallowed hard and set it down, removing his necklace and setting it inside the bag and he nudged it toward Michael. He owned nothing. It was Dean's now. Or maybe this new man's, Michael. It didn't matter.

"You... don't want it?" Michael asked, wondering at the gesture. "Something wrong? Sin... right?"

"I own nothing unless permitted by my new master," Sam said, repeating the rhetoric long drilled into him. "I am well. Sin is what I was called. I will continue to answer to that until told of my new designation."

Mike blinked. "Okay, well... keep your things, and let's get you to the tech lab. Then I'm sure they'll want to have the docs look you over, make sure you're fine. And a social worker will be by to discuss where you might best fit in." He waited until Sin got up, and started walking, though he slowed when the other man walked a step behind him. He could see that Sin was bewildered and kept up his end of the conversation so that Sin wouldn't have to.

As they walked out of the shuttle bay and into a wide corridor, Mike pointed out the various amenities they had on the battlestar. "I don't know if you'll be staying on this ship, but at least until you're transferred, you might as well get to know what's available."

A lot of eyes were on Sin, question-filled eyes.

"Never mind them. It's just that we haven't rescued a human in forever."

Sam kept his proper place behind the man and noticed the security guards following a few steps behind. Part of his mind fought against the training but he was pretty much on autopilot and unable to do anything about it. Any deviation from appropriate behavior and he would be punished. I'm going to my execution. What more can they do he thought to himself but a deeper voice inside of him protested that. He wasn't going to his execution he was being set free. Free. Death. Synonyms. That had been disciplined into him too. He had been able to ignore it when he thought Dean would accept him, own him. He was willing to barter for a few more days or even just centars. Dean wouldn't order his death...but he had. Removal of the collar. Dean was trying to free him...freedom meant death.

Sam's mind twirled in the dizzying argument. The slave in him, the fear in him, always winning though. He followed Michael into the tech lab and sat on the bench Michael indicated. At least he had been able to keep his things for a little while. He had been told leaving Thiros meant death. Why hadn't he listened?

Dr. Wilker waked in and nodded at Michael. "Hello Sin." Dr. Wilker introduced himself as he visually inspected the collar around Sin's neck. He tsk'd and shook his head. "I've worked with similar mechanisms. We'll have it off you soon enough," he promised. What he didn't say was that they'd used similar collars on the wild bovine on his homeworld, forcing them to the will of their owners.

Retrieving a few tools, he set them on a tray and brought it next to Sin. "Let's see now..." he ran his finger over the smooth collar, searching for the invisible seam. "Hmmm, this is the point we'll take it apart." Looking at the young man, he noticed the flat look. "Don't be afraid." He picked up a boxy looking object. "Hold this," he said, giving it to Sin, then clipped the two wired nodes from it to the collar. "Don't let go of the device. It will draw any electricity that the collar releases and trap it safely in the device."

"The doc knows what he's doing," Mike reassured.

Sam didn't say anything but merely followed Dr. Wilker's orders. He sat stone still while the doctor worked. It took almost five centons and several muttered curses from the man before Sam felt the collar seperate and fall away. It snapped and cracked as the box he held hummed. The collar finally grew silent, small wisps of smoke curling up and away from it. Sam looked at it dispassionately. At least now he could ask a question without it zapping the frack out him.

"How soon will they come to take me away?" Sam asked softly as he handed the box back to Wilker.

"I'm sure they're waiting for you outside," Dr. Wilker said, with a smile. He put his hand out and clasped Sin's forearm. "Welcome. And I'm quite sure I'll be seeing you again, young man."

Outside? They weren't wasting any time. He wondered morbidly if the man also did autopsies. Or maybe, since he did electronics, the execution would be via some death machine he had built. If he wasn't being executed here...a public forum. Of course. So others could see. As he had seen. The executions on Thiros were brutal and gruesome. He knew he paled even as he clasped the man's forearm. He looked at Michael and pulled out a faint smile. "Then let's get this over with."

Standing up, he handed the bag he carried to Michael. "You will see Dean gets this for him to do with as he pleases? The plant...it needs watered every four days, just a few drops. It needs only a few centars of light a day. If it is giving more, it will need more water."

"You're giving Dean a plant?" Michael snorted. "You don't know him well but he has this 'stare'... He stares at a plant, it dies." He took the bag anyway, since Sin kept trying to give it it away, and motioned for him to walk through the door, eyes narrowing at his hesitation. "At this rate, we'll never make that welcome dinner."

"I am familiar with one of his stares," Sam said, his smile a little stronger as he recalled fondly the last centars with Dean. "It is quite...potent."

Stepping out into the hall he saw the two guards. He twisted his head a little to look at the warrior. "This welcome dinner. Is that where..." Sam couldn't finish the sentence, his throat closing up. No! His death would not be entertainment for dinner guests. He had no collar to stop him now. He darted between the security guards and started running down the hall.

"Now what?" Michael motioned for them to go after Sin. "You'd think I said he was being eaten for dinner," he muttered glumly, looking back at the doc. "Or he's shy and doesn't want to go to the dinner. A shy slave," snorting, he walked out. The lights along the corridor had been flashing, but now stopped. It meant they'd already apprehended Sin. Why did things always have to get complicated?

* * *

Dean had gone to his quarters and quickly changed into full uniform. By the time he was standing outside the debriefing conference room, he had it in his mind that Sin must be surrounded by friendly, eager faces, and would see that his fears were over nothing. Hearing the commander's deep voice over the comm, telling him to enter, he placed his hand on the palm pad.

The door hissed open and he walked into the windowless room, view screens lining one wall, and a big table in the center with more screens. The commander was leaning over and reading one of the screens inset in the table so all Dean could see was his steel gray hair and long robes. He coughed into his hand and waited.

Commander Adama was reviewing the latest statistics on ship locations in the fleet, those which had outlived their useful lives a few times over and might have to be adandoned and scavenged for parts. He'd have to decied soon whether it would be wise to re-organize some on the outer rims of the massive collection of ships. When he heard the Captain of Red , he keyed in some minor ideas so he could return to his exact train of thought later, then turned to looked up at Captain Dean.

"Welcome back, Captain." Adama waved him into into a seat while sitting down himself. He called up the star charts for the area of space the captain had investigated. "You're back sooner than expected, so I can only assume the news is very bad or very good."

Dean took the seat and met Adama's gaze. "Bad for everyone who was looking for a bit of off-ship R&R. There's no direct Cylon presence but I think there is collaboration." He ran his hand through his hair and leaned back. "I brought someone with me. A human. He was a slave at the station, Thiros. He seems to know a bit about where the Cylons are and what they're up to in the sector, but he's too jumpy to get a lot of out right now."

"That is disappointing Captain, but the last thing we need is to have thousands on leave and have our presence revealed by collaborators. We have managed to evade the Cylons for quite a while now and I would just as soon that situation remain unchanged. We've also managed to accomplish a good deal for our people while we have had less concern over attack. More manufacturing ships seem to come on line every day and new ships are being produced from recycled scrap and salvage. With the threat of the Cylons though, we can't even risk acquiring large quantities of raw materials." He took a breath.
"From the way you speak of this person, am I to assume he was the only human there? Did your appearance bring about any questions then?"

"Yeah, he was the only one," Dean nodded. "I didn't raise any eyebrows, a couple races looked like humans at first glance but he assured me that if anyone had found out I'm human, steps would have been taken to keep me there, and probably to notify the Cylons. His name is Sin. I'm pretty sure that's only his stage name, but he is legit. I couldn't leave him there," he added, chin raised in case Adama found fault with his decision.

"That is troubling. So he was enslaved as a performer there? Were you able to learn anything of where he came from? We have not encountered any human settlements in so long, I grow concerned, but it is heartening to find another human even if only one man."

Sin had performed, so the failure to correct the commander on his job description did not constitute a lie, Dean told himself. "The enslavement process must have been difficult. He's having difficulty adjusting to the knowledge he's free now. I asked him questions about his background but I think his fears of the future kept him from talking about them. All I know is that he was there during Final Destruction, and he feels he was left behind. He must have been just a kid at the time. I guess slavers must have been exploring our lost worlds and he must have been captured then." Dean thought for a moment, knowing Adama might question whether or not Sin was in fact human. "He knows the old poems about Earth from the Book of the Word. He also seemed to know his way around the shuttlecraft."

Adama frowned, contemplating this. "We've encountered many human settlements that knew of the Colonies but no actual survivors from the Colonies and the Final Destruction since Carillon. How did Sin end up so very far from the Colonies?" Adama shook his head. "I do not like the implications of this on many levels. He sounds like perfect bait for our fleet. He will need to be thoroughly questioned to confirm he is not a spy for the Cylons. I will have the fleet alter heading to avoid the immediate sectors before us. Once we know more about this man, we will then judge if any information he might have is useful. Thank you Captain. I will be awaiting your full report on your mission."

"He's not a spy." Dean knew he couldn't back that up with facts, that gut feelings didn't count. Getting up, Dean headed for the door. He'd go get the damned report out of the way, then find out where Sin was living it up celebrating freedom.

* * *

Mike was finally alerted on the sigmawave that his Captain was in his office and available. He didn't waste any time since the last three times he had tried to get to Dean, Dean had already been pulled off into another meeting or disappeared elsewhere.

When Dean called him into his small office, he could hear the frustration and annoyance in that simple word 'come.'

"Captain," Mike said with a nod. He set Sin's bag of things down on Dean's desk. "He wanted me to give this to you."

"Huh?" Seeing Sin's things, Dean let out a weary sigh. He'd meant to go see Sin that first night of their arrival, but he'd fucking fallen asleep writing his report. Seemed Sin had worn him out after all. Then each time he tried to follow up on his whereabouts, to find out where he'd been quartered or to talk to Mike about it, he'd been called for one follow up debriefing after another, and each of them calling for more paperwork. "You sure about that? I mean he didn't want to be parted from his things." Except when he'd reverted to slavehood, but Dean thought he'd sorted that out then... and even if he hadn't, by now, it had to be clear to Sin he wasn't a slave.

"Where did they put him up?" he asked, not making a move toward the bag.

Mike made something of a face. "They had to move him to the hospital ship, asylum. He was pretty out of control. He laid up five security guards total. He's a fracking wicked fighter and escaped his restraints once--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean raised a hand to cut Mike off. "What do you mean in restraints? I just got him out of a slave situation, I told him he'd be free... what the frack, Mike?" his eyes flared, demanding an answer. "What happened and why wasn't I told before?"

"I've been trying to catch up with you Captain as soon as I got back. After his collar came off, he gave me his stuff to give you, then bolted. Security caught him, and he broke a couple of their bones. They had to cuff him, and got a few broken ribs in the process of doing that. It took four of us to keep hold of him even after he was cuffed. They sedated him but I stayed with him. I knew you'd want me to. He should have been out for centars but he shook off the sedative in just three centars. He escaped the restraints again, injured a couple more guys from security, and they sedated him again."

A deep frown marred Dean's face. He hadn't seen any signs of violence from Sin, none. How could he have.... maybe he could have injured one person, but so many on the security team? Only a trained fighter could do that, in Dean's opinion. For as much as the warriors ragged on security and vice versa, security really did do a fine job. It was more of a friendly harassment of each other in most cases.

"...Doc Salik said he had to be transferred to a more secure location but he wanted Sin under medical care, to keep him calm and find out what was going on in his head. The only thing I could get out of his babbling was that he was convinced we were going to kill him. For entertainment, no less." Mike shook his head. "I stayed with him and went over to the hospital ship, made sure he got settled in. Security showed up with a list of questions for him but I don't know if the doctor there let them in or not. Sin was fighting off the sedative again though. I told him it would be okay, we didn't plan on killing him for gods' sakes, but I'm not sure he was even hearing me, Dean. After I got back, I've missed catching you in three times already." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't gotten much sleep over the past day or so in dealing with Sin.

"Sonova..." Getting up, he strode past Mike and was out the door. Long strides had him barreling down the hallways leading out of the administrative area and then into the lift. "Shuttle bay level," he snapped, wasting no time and transmitting ahead that he wanted transport to the hospital ship, stat.

Out of the lift, he brushed past several people trying to talk to him. The words he'd spoken to Sin, the reassurances he'd given, the tales he'd told about freedom... and now. Frack. He'd wiped away that man's tears and given him his word. Three days. Seventy two centars. All on his own shoulders, his fault. He should have checked on Sin right away.

Moving through the doors to the shuttle bay, he looked at one of the men who directed him to the transport shuttle. Once he got inside, he manually shut the door and gave the order to get them to the hospital ship. It wasn't far, but it was protected... set deep within a cloak of other ships.

Upon arrival, he ordered the pilot to have the shuttle ready for him and not to go anywhere. He was through the main doors and at the front desk within a few centons. "I need to see a patient that was brought in a few days ago by security. Name's Sin." When the woman behind the desk seemed to be taking too long, he added, "now Goddammit."

The nurse glared at him. "Cool your turbos, Captain. Our computers are slow....he's in...sector seven alpha. He's under sedation, very violent, non communicative and won't eat or drink. He's considered dangerous at this point. Security has given up trying to get anything out of him, so he going to be started on medication for his violence and disturbed psyche shortly."

"That man is not violent." Seeing her look of disbelief, he let out an impatient breath. "Tell them I'm on my way and I want see the patient."

Medication, that wasn't what Sin needed, and Dean knew it. He rushed down the halls following the markings and got further directions as he'd never been to this part of the ship before. Once he was on the right level, he moved past the windows, looking in until he saw Sin. "Get this door open."

"We need authorization from Dr...."

"Get it, and get it open," Dean snapped, his gaze trained on the man on the bed. Sin's wrists were in restraints. A belt went across his stomach, over the sheets, and he had no doubt that they'd secure his ankles as well. His expression was what scared Dean, nothing but a blank stare. And the bruising he saw on the man's face infuriated him. Hadn't the man been through enough? The way he stared at the ceiling as if he was resolved to accept whatever they did to him hurt Dean to his core. There was no hint of that animated, curious and teasing man he'd spent twenty four centars with. None. And if this was what he'd turned him into... then gods help him, Dean wondered if Sin hadn't been better off at that station.

No. No goddamit, he wasn't better off there. This was gonna change. Dean would take responsibility for this... and for Sin. "Hurry it up," he snapped when an orderly arrived and inputted a code.

Dean strode right inside, and leaned over Sin, letting him see his face. "Sin. This... I'm so sorry. It shouldn't have happened."

Sam blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog from his brain. He was being talked to again. They could talk all they wanted. He wasn't saying a thing. No matter what they did...no, no he was a slave, not back with them. But he wasn't a slave. They'd taken his collar. He was to be executed. He stared at the man who said something to him. He should know him...Dean. Dean. Yes. His new owner. The one who had ordered him executed.

"What did I do wrong?" Sam asked softly. "Did I not give you enough pleasure? I can do better. I swear I can." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please...please don't...I don't want to die..."

"No, you're not gonna die, I swear Sin... you're not gonna die," Dean said, feeling like something had just gutted him.

Someone walked in to warn him about the patient. Without turning around he snapped, "get the frack out of here." He waited a centon, then stroked Sin's face. "You haven't done anything wrong. Nothing. Please believe me... please Sin," he whispered, reaching for the cuff on one of Sin's wrists.

Sam sighed softly at Dean's touch. He wished he would feel that always. But it was obviously a final goodbye.

"They took my collar. That means execution. You told them to take it. I must have done something wrong." Sam simply stared at Dean, confusion and hurt in his eyes. His gaze glanced down to where Dean was slowly releasing the restraint. His breath hitched and he bit back his sob. Dean was here to see the job finished apparently. He was tired, his brain wasn't working well. Maybe...maybe this was a good thing. He wouldn't fight it anymore. He would let Dean take him to where ever he was to be killed. He could at least walk to it like a man instead of a sobbing, sniveling, begging child. He had once been proud and strong. He would try to find that again for these last few centons.

"It doesn't mean execution, not here. It means freedom.." Dean choked on the word, seeing as Sin was anything but free at the moment. He rubbed the man's wrist, then undid the other cuff. "You didn't do anything wrong. I did. I shouldn't have left you alone, and for that, I'm sorry." Moving down, he undid the belt that held Sin to the bed. He hoped he was getting through, but wasn't convinced. He'd been told they'd been sedating him, and that had to add to the man's confusion.

Sam shook his head. "Permanent slave. No chance for freedom, for working off any debt. There is no debt. Slave or death." He reached up and stroked Dean's cheek. "You don't have to lie. It's okay. I'll go quietly now."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a maelstrom of emotions under order before he spoke. "Get this man his collar. Get it from Dr. Wilker, have it in my quarters."

The wide-eyed orderly had no idea what the Captain meant, but moved to do his bidding.

Unbuckling the belt across the center of the bed, Dean pulled the sheets off and unsecured Sin's ankles. Then he crossed the room to grab the man's clothes from the closet.

Collar? In Dean's quarters? Dean was going to...keep him? Sam wasn't sure whether to believe what he heard or not. When he had first been captured he had suffered hallucinations that he was rescued, not abandoned, only to have them turn to smoke. Then at the station, during his initial training for being a slave and learning to give pleasure, they had played many mind games with him. He had finally learned to simply do as ordered, not to question, and take the moment as only the moment. He didn't think Dean would be cruel and taunt and tease him. What was the point of taking Sam away from the station only to have him killed? He had been wrestling with that whenever his mind managed to briefly think past the overwhelming fear that had been instilled in him at the loss of his collar and being discarded by his new owner.

Sam slowly struggled to a sitting position. He had taken some bad blows as he had fought the black garbed security personnel and though he had been treated, some bruising was still there. While bone fusers could mend broken bones and remove any indication of the bone ever having been broken, including the bruises around it, ordinary bruising was sometimes harder to heal.

When Dean returned with his clothes and handed them to him, he gave Dean a look, seeking confirmation that he was supposed to dress rather than carry them. He pulled on his pants, slipped into his two shirts, and then his shoes. He was a little wobbly on his feet, the sedative making his mind sluggish and reactions slow. Dean put out a hand to help steady him and though he did't pull away, he bowed his head and spoke. "I will be fine, Lord Dean. I am strong. I will not embarrass you. I will not make you regret this second chance."

Realizing arguing would get him nowhere right now, Dean simply nodded. "You'll be fine. Lean on me if you need to." Standing close, he walked with Sin, refusing to allow him to trail behind him. Nurses protested that a doctor needed to release Sin, that he couldn't just be taken out, but Dean waved them off and said he'd take full responsibility. The doctors could contact him at his quarters.

"Come on, you're going to be fine," Dean said in a low voice, every few moments, trying to reassure Sin. The man had really believed he was going to be killed. Maybe he still believed it. How many times had this man been betrayed or at least perceived he'd been betrayed? In addition to his feelings about not having been evacuated from his world after the Final Destruction, his slave training had involved false promises of escape and relief. He'd told Dean as much when Dean had first broached escape. And now this... Dean's own promises had turned to lies. He had a lot to make up for.

Sam could only concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other without stumbling. He heard his owner's soft assurances and tried to believe he was not going to his death. He really did, but the fact he was without his slave collar kept gnawing at him and made his gut clench.

He hadn't been on Thiros long and was among a small handful of new slaves being trained. He was anything but cooperative and shocked into near unconsciousness an innumerable amount of times for his disobedience. The trainer had ordered the slaves to line up. He was stunned when the collar fell from his neck and barely caught it. Each of them held their collars, guns trained on them. 'One of you gets to go free, gets to go through that door without his collar.' The trainer was suddenly in front of Sam. 'Would you like to go free?' Sam had nodded and responded with a 'yes sir.' The trainer, his gaze locked on Sam, whipped out his gun, pressed it to the forehead of the slave beside Sam, and pulled the trigger. The back of the skull of the slave was blown out, blood and brain matter splattering behind him. 'That man is free. He will be taken through that door. Would anyone else care to be free? If not, replace your collar around your throat.' Sam's gaze drifted down to the gruesome mess beside him and clenching his jaw, slowly refastened the collar around his throat.

He looked around, realizing he was in a landing bay and glanced at Dean

"Go ahead." Dean walked into the transport shuttle behind Sin and sat on the bench across from him. Searching his eyes, he saw how dilated his pupils were. "It'll wear off. When you start thinking clearer, you'll feel better," he said. When the need to pull Sin into his arms and offer him more assurances became almost overwhelming, Dean pulled his gaze away.

Wear off. Thinking clearer. He could function now. He had functioned under a lot worse conditions but he had fumbled when trying to secure his seat belt and Dean had helped him before sitting across from him. He wished Dean sat next to him, but he had been violent as he had tried to run and hide from those who were going to take him to his execution. Maybe because he had shown such fight, Dean decided to give him a second chance. His mind groped at a recollection. Yes. Dean liked a challenge. He had shown Dean he was not going to go quietly to his death.

His collar. As soon as his collar was back on, he would feel better. He would feel a little more assured he would live another day. Then he would be able to think clearer. The fear would not be coiling through him like some poisonous serpent about to make him mad with terror. He wanted to ask about the guards he had fought with, but decided he shouldn't speak until his collar was back on him. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and make Dean change his mind again. So he sat in silence, his gaze staring blankly at his hands.

As soon as the shuttlecraft landed and the door opened, Dean could see security approaching. "Tell them to get off the deck," he told the pilot, crossing the aisle and helping undo the straps holding Sin in place. Before Sin could get up, Dean put his hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "We're going to walk to my quarters now. There's nothing to be afraid of, no one wants to hurt you. If they're looking at you, it's because they're curious, got that? There won't be any fighting." He spoke kindly but sternly, aware of the need to make sure Sin did not reinforce the idea that he was violent and needed containment.

"I will go where ever you say and I will not run or struggle again," Sam promised with a nod. He just wanted his collar back!

"Okay, let's do this." He helped Sin up, saw he was steady on his feet, and walked to the door of the shuttlecraft, going down the stairs first and waiting. When Sin joined him, Dean gripped his arm and started walking. Once they hit the corridor, he did what he should have done before, explained where they were, and where they were heading. He sounded as if he was giving a tour of the Galactica, then joked about his quarters. "It's very fancy, you know. Puts that suite at Thiros Station to shame. Narrow bed, plenty of water to drink... none of that cheap absinthe crap."

"Narrow beds lend themselves to many interesting positions," Sam said quietly. He wondered where he would be staying when Dean did not want his services. If Dean had only a narrow bed, then it was unlikely he would have one at all. Sleeping pads suited him fine though. It wasn't as uncomfortable when one's feet hung over the end of a bed that was too short. A voice in the back of his mind told him to keep his head bowed, that he didn't want anyone to see his face, but he couldn't remember why.

A couple people came by to talk to Dean, but he waved them off. Dean led Sin into the lift. There were a few people in there with them. A blonde stepped forward and smiled, catching Dean's attention.

"I hadn't realized you were back. Maybe we should celebrate later?" she suggested, giving Dean a coy and promising look. "I'm off in two centars. I could come over..."

She was sexy as hell, and not the least bit shy. Just the way Dean liked them. He tried to remember her name. Arlana? Ariel? Something like that. "Not today, but I'll call you later," Dean answered just as the computer announced they'd reached their level, and the doors swooshed open.

Sam eyed the woman and, for a moment, the ever-roiling fear inside him stilled. He decided he didn't like the woman and glared at her, his eyes narrowed. As soon as he saw that she had seen his glare, he let it fall away and disappear before Dean might notice it. Maybe Sam could keep him occupied so he forgot to call her.

Dean nodded for Sin to walk out, then quickly walked the short distance to his quarters and put his hand on the palm pad. The door opened and they were inside. He gave a voice command for the doors to close and his gaze fell on the collar... Sin's... sitting on the small table that had four chairs around it. Every fibre in his body revolted against the idea of putting it back on Sin.

Sam's eyes scanned the room when the door opened. There appeared to be a small dining area, then a kitchen and a small sitting area straight ahead. To the left was an open door that lead to a bedroom. Lying on the dining table was his collar! He strode to it immediately and snatched it up. His hands were shaking horribly as he wrapped it around his throat and felt as much as heard the magnetic lock engage. He closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. He was safe. He wasn't going to be executed. Dean accepted him as his slave, he could stay here, and he wouldn't have to leave Dean's quarters. Even if Dean housed him elsewhere, sold his services to those on the ship, it was all okay. Everything was okay now. He turned and went to his knees before Dean.

"May I ask of the rules you wish me to follow so I do not displease you again, Master Dean?" He waited patiently, his head bowed. His heart was still pounding hard in his chest but it was finally beginning to slow.

"Oh for crying..." Dean bit down on the curses and reminded himself that Sin had been brainwashed, that it would take time to reverse the training and fears that had been instilled in him. "Please get up... please sit there," he pointed at a chair, and sat down across from it.

Sam rose and moved to the chair Dean indicated. He had a feeling he had already displeased Dean and bit his bottom lip. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken. But how could he do what Dean wanted if Dean didn't tell him? He had had clients like that though...clients...his memories tried to swim through the fog that was still filling his mind. He pushed them away. Dean was his master now. Nothing that came before mattered.

"Okay." Clearing his throat, Dean took a deep breath. "I don't want you to kneel in front of me, to me... not ever. You know how confident you were on the station? I know it won't happen overnight, I don't expect it to, but that's how I'd like you to be. You already know I don't have a thing for slaves... for subservience." Getting up, Dean drew his chair closer to Sin. "You've seen the Battlestar Galactica. You've seen the quarter million and growing number of ships carrying humanity?"

At the brief nod, Dean continued. "They're filled with men, women, children. All of us free, you understand? It's like the time before the Final Destruction, we're all free men. Remember, I told you that before we left the station?" He cleared his throat again. "What I'm getting at is that you have your collar, but the moment you're ready to be free, I want you to take it off. That's our goal... one day, we're taking that off you, not because you're being punished, but because you're an equal and because you finally believe it's the truth."

No kneeling. Okay, that was easy. Station...confidence...he tried to find that inside himself, tried to remember, but the fear still had him in tatters and he couldn't think straight, couldn't sort out anything in his confused mind. It didn't help that he hadn't eaten in a few days, he knew. Equal...

Sam shook his head slowly. "I don't...it's all...confusing." Smile. When he was unsure or confused, he was supposed to smile and simply agree. "Yes, sir, Master Dean," he said and smiled. Anything to keep Dean happy. Maybe after he slept, maybe after he had eaten, maybe after the drugs they had given him were out of his system, he would remember more. He knew it was part of training, that he was supposed to forget anything of his previous lives when a master was replaced. His mind was trying to bury the past so Dean had a fresh canvas to work with. But how was he supposed to not be subservient? He was a slave. Serving is what slaves did. "May I...may I get you food or drink? Is that wrong to do for you?"

"I'll have it brought in. We'll eat here, I haven't eaten yet either." Dean gave him a smile. "In the future, when you're ready, we'll eat either at the mess hall or one of the eateries. After we eat, you need to sleep the meds off and rest. If you want a shower..." Dean pointed to the bedroom, "the privy is to the left. I'm gonna have clothes brought in for you too. Oh... your bag... it's in my office. I'll get it tomorrow," he promised.

He could see Sin was still perplexed and indecisive, but he let him be. He was gonna act normal, the way he would if he had a friend staying in his quarters, and instead of expecting Sin to believe what he said... he'd just show him. Grabbing his transmitter out of his jacket pocket, he systematically took care of various things, requesting a cot and noting his guest was tall, asking for clothing for Sin, ordering dinner for both of them, and making an appointment for Sin to see the doctor. Although he wanted the doctor to come to his quarters, the doctor insisted it would be better for Sin to get out, even if only for a centar.

Sam listened to Dean ordering all these things for him and he knew right away he was lucky to have such a generous owner. A bed, food, clothes...his bag? There was only a faint recollection of a bag and he wasn't even certain if the recollection was real. Perhaps it was something Dean had bought for him when he bought Sam. Regardless, he would find some way to show Dean how grateful he was.

When Dean was done, he got up and stroked the side of Sin's face, fighting the urge to kiss him. "So you want a tour of my 'quarters'?" It was just three small rooms, the one they were sitting in that was divided into three areas, the bedroom, and the privy.

Leaning into Dean's gentle touch Sam's smile broadened and became more genuine. "I would like that very much."

Dean led him into the bedroom first and showed him the privy. Sam peered into it. It was small, really only big enough for one person at a time unless you were very friendly with them. He breathed the scents in deeply, familiar smells assaulting his senses, but familiar from where he really couldn't say. Turning around he took in the bedroom. It too was fairly small, but there was a shelf with some labeled computers chits: technical manuals, strategy and tactics of spacecraft, history of battles with accompanying dissection of the battles, and a few compbooks with titles that made him snicker just a little to himself. They had innocuous names like 'Basin hoverbikes 497' or 'Shuttle models 909.' They were porn magazines that could be set to automatically or manually update once a month. He arched an eyebrow at Dean but didn't touch them. One chit caught his eye and he did pick it up. "'The Cartavian Battle' by Shwayna? He got everything wrong in this publication starting with their motivation for the battle and ending with why they lost."

Dean had a nice music player and chit after chit of music. He dropped a chit in and turned it on, turning it down in volume a little. It was hard fast music. Not his immediate choice but it was at the top of the stack, implying Dean listened to it a lot. He walked up to Dean and stepped close enough to him their lips were almost touching. "May I kiss you, Master?"

About to ask what Sin knew about the battle, or rather what the fuck he thought he knew about it, Dean was startled to suddenly find Sin in his space. He wanted to say 'no.' He should say 'no.' Sin wasn't really his slave and treating him like one, or taking advantage, or letting him behave like one was despicable. And yet, the question and his action of putting on the music was the first time since the hospital that Sin was even the least bit assertive, even if he was asking permission. Surely that was reason enough.

Forget all the rationalizations, Dean's lips were already parting of their own accord. He remembered only too well how addictive Sin's kisses, his touches were. "N... Not if it's because I'm your master." He licked his lips. "That hasn't changed. I don't want anything from you that you don't want for yourself." He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut to prevent himself from swaying forward and taking what was offered.

Sam caressed Dean's cheek. It was more than obvious Dean was struggling to hold back and that Dean wanted Sam to kiss him. He found it almost irresistable that Dean closed his eyes, as if already imagining Sam's lips pressed against his own. Sam leaned in so close he knew Dean would feel his hot breath on his lips as Sam spoke. "I cannot tell you that it's not because you're my master and I want to please you. But it would please me to kiss you and it would please me not just because it would please you. I would like very much to kiss you."

Sam ran the tip of his tongue across Dean's lips, Dean's lips already parted and ready. He gave feather light kisses to Dean's mouth, then ran his tongue just around the inside, but pulled away when Dean's tongue tried to catch his. He continued the tease, light kisses to Dean's soft lips, brushes of his tongue over or just inside those lips. Wrapping his arms around Dean he pulled him closer and finally gave in, pressing his lips to his master's and, opening his mouth, his tongue pushed inside Dean's mouth letting Dean's tongue chase and catch his. He moaned softly as Dean took over the kiss.

The teasing had Dean chasing Sin's tongue, as surely as he was moving closer, chasing his body, wanting, needing to touch, to taste, to feel the other man against him. Then Sin stopped running, and Dean was quick to capture his tongue, stroking it with his own. Answering Sin's moan with one of his own, Dean cupped the back of Sin's head, holding him in place as he slid his tongue past Sin's and into his mouth. Desire... need... that's what Sin tasted like, how he felt... and even the knowledge that he was trained just for this, to make others feel this way, did nothing to dampen his effect on Dean. Kissing him harder, tugging him closer with the arm he had around Sin's waist, Dean started to walk backwards toward the bed. His knees hit the mattress, he started to sit, when a soft ding announced a guest at the door.

Pulling away, staring at Sin and trying to calm his breathing, Dean cursed softly under his breath. "Maybe I should take that as a sign."

"Maybe it is your dinner and is indeed a sign," Sam said, kissing Dean a final time. "All the Lords of Kobol know that you must keep up your strength when dealing with Sin." Backing away, he let Dean head for the door. He paused at the door to the bedroom. He felt safe, comfortable, in the bedroom. He did not want to leave the room. He did not want to see who ever was at the door no matter what they might be bringing. But what if it was that blonde...?

Sam stepped out of the bedroom but stuck close to the wall, placing himself so he could glimpse who was outside the door, but could then easily get out of their view. He wrapped his arms around himself and felt his heart pounding faster and faster in his chest. He glanced back toward the bedroom. Safety. Familiarity. After a moment more of indecision he slipped back in to the bedroom. Gasping a little, he slid to the floor, his back against the door. What was wrong with him? You are a pleasure slave. Pleasure slaves belong in the bedroom. They should not be seen unless their owner wants them seen. They should not be heard. If your owner wants you seen, your owner will inform you. If they leave you alone in a room, you do not move from there until your owner returns or calls for your presence elsewhere.

The pain from the trainings still echoed in his nerves and screamed in the corners of his mind.

He slowly pushed himself up to his feet and returned to where he had been standing when the chime sounded. His heart slowed and his breathing became more normal. Yes, that was better but he sighed in frustration. It was fracked, he was fracked, everything was fracked. He wanted Dean back beside him. He didn't have to think if Dean was with him. He could concentrate on more interesting diversions and not worry about anything other than pleasing his master.

Dean saw Sin come after him then scurry away back into the bedroom as if he was afraid, though he didn't know if it was fear of Dean or whoever was at the door. He hoped by tomorrow Sin would be more himself.

Dinner was delivered and almost simultaneously, the cot was brought in and some clothes with a voucher so that Sin could go to the stores and purchase more items to his liking. As a newcomer to the ship, he was being given some cubits to start up his new life. Dean asked the men to give him a moment, then walked to the room. "They're bringing the extra bed," he told Sin, giving him an encouraging grin.

After a split second of hesitation, Sam moved out of the way and moved to the far corner. He kept his head bowed and simply tried to blend in to the wall.

A few moments later, the bed was set up next to the wall and the clothing was placed on it. As Dean walked them out, Michael arrived and they spoke in low tones near the door. Michael demanded to know whether he knew what he was doing adopting a grown man who might be trouble, until eventually Dean basically told him he was dismissed.

Listening at the door Sam could make out bits and pieces of the argument going on between his master and Michael. He was violent. Couldn't be trusted. Hurt the security guards. Spy? Michael thought he could be a Cylon spy? He frowned. He had liked Michael. Michael stayed with him when he didn't have to. Tried to comfort him. Delivered his bag to Dean. His bag...that's right. He had brought a bag of belongings with him. From where though? Where did he...? Dammit. It slipped away again. Sam was about to step forward and reassure Michael that he would never hurt Dean, couldn't hurt Dean and wasn't one of their spies, he would kill himself first, but then Dean dismissed the warrior.

When the doors hissed shut, Dean let out a breath. "Sin. Let's eat," he said, looking at the doorway to the bedroom but not going in.

Sam came out of the bedroom, his eyes scanning the room cautiously, then he smiled at Dean when he confirmed it was empty. He saw the two trays of food sitting on the table. He suspected one was for him, but he would not be so bold as to actually try to claim one, no matter how hungry he was. Dean might still be testing him. He stood, waiting for Dean to tell him if he wanted Sam to feed him, or blow him while he ate, or what ever was his desire.

"Does Michael..." Sam began then changed his mind. "I like Michael. He keeps his word. He followed your orders and did not abandon me. I would gladly service him if you wanted me to," Sam offered.

Dean's eyes widened. He sat heavily down and cradled his face in his hand for a moment. Looking back up, he jerked his chin toward the empty seat. "Sit." Lips pressed into a flat line, he watched as Sin sat down. "Are you... are you thinking clearly, or ... you know what? We're gonna talk about this tomorrow," he finally said.

Chapter Text

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

Sam looked a little confused for a moment, and then shrugged it off when Dean said they would discuss it tomorrow. He knew he was thinking anything but clearly but he also knew his mind was fighting against it, inch by inch, and he would sort out the puzzle pieces that currently made up his memories. Nodding, he began to eat as Dean told him to. In between bites he said, “Yes Master. I have not eaten since...since before you bought me I think. Thank you for the victuals. They are very good."

"You haven't eaten since... Here." He pushed his plate over to Sin. "You need this more than me. And please... please don't call me that. Dean, my name is Dean. I like to hear it," he added, figuring if he made it about himself, his own needs, it might make Sin comply.

"I will be full by the time I eat all of mine, but if you wish, I will eat yours too." Sam eyed the plate on Dean's tray. His stomach had shrunk and he really hoped if he had to eat Dean's too that he wouldn't throw it back up. "Dean. Do you prefer Lord Dean? Sir? Captain? ...Sexy Dean?" Sam added, suddenly grinning at him. "Maybe Sexy Captain Dean." The sugar in the food was already making him feel better and less light headed. And more energetic. He doubted it would last long, and he probably ought to shower, but the thought of crawling slowly up Dean's body was filling his brain. But who wanted a dirty slave making love to them? Yes. He should shower as soon as he was done eating.

At first, Dean got uptight but as Sin became more outrageous, he started to chuckle and pulled his plate back. "Captain Sexy," he lifted his fork and gestured with it. "Now that... that would work." Chuckling some more as he cut into the meat and brought it to his mouth, he noticed the serious look on Sin's face. "Just kidding, Sin. Anyone hears that and I'll be the laughing stock. Just Dean is fine. Why? Don't you like my name?"

"I like your name. Dean is nice but I did not know if you would prefer something less familiar, more formal, as my owner," Sam said then added a little mischievously. "But Captain Sexy is good too." After taking another bite of his food he said matter of factly, "I would like to make love to you. I would like to feel your hands on me, caressing me, and feel you inside me. But I should shower first so I am clean for your pleasure. You said I could shower, yes? Then can we make love?"

Dean's gut clenched at the thought of being inside Sin again, of having him under him, or against the headboard... "You're very tempting, but... think you should just take a shower and then rest up, sleep. You need it." He didn't plan to make love to Sin again, not until Sin gave up his slavehood. He just hoped he'd have the willpower to resist and wouldn't hurt Sin in the process. "Maybe we can watch a movie, if you'd like."

Sam knew he would be tired soon, but the shower should be invigorating. A movie would be good. He could massage Dean while they watched, nuzzle his neck, nip and suck on that rock hard muscular chest, jack him off up to a point, suck him, then have Dean fuck him. Yes that sounded like an excellent night.

"A movie would be good," Sam agreed with a nod and pushed his tray away, his plate empty. He burped loudly and blushed with embarrassment. "Excuse me," Sam said. "Would you like me to stay and keep you company, or should I shower now?"

Laughing, Dean gave a counter-burp then shook his head. "I know... childish. Do what you like," he nodded. "My opinion? You better take one now, you look tired." He looked a lot steadier, so Dean wasn't afraid Sin would fall and hurt himself. "Just ah... you probably should soap and rinse off first thing because water is rationed and the shower will stop at a certain point."

Sam grinned when Dean burped and didn't feel so badly for being so crude. He hadn't meant to burp. "Rationed? Okay. I don't want to be half clean or still soapy or something. Though I could leave soap in some areas," he suggested.

He yawned. He was tired, but he didn't want Dean to think he couldn't perform any services for him. After leaning over to pull off his shoes and socks, he stood up and stretched, the bottom part of his shirts lifting and revealing a thin line of flesh at his stomach. Slowly he pulled off each of his shirts then turned his back to Dean, folding each shirt neatly and bending over as he set them on the chair, giving Dean a nice view of his ass. Next he undid his pants and slowly wriggled out of them, again bending over to pick up his pants and folding them before setting them on top of his shirts. He pushed his underwear down, his ass within easy reach of Dean.

At the first sight of the sliver of skin at Sin's waist, Dean stopped breathing. His gaze locked onto the brunet, following the trail of his hands pushing the material slowly up his waist and chest, imagining his own hands following that same path. As Sin's stomach muscles tightened when he leaned over, so did Dean's, his lips parting slightly. His eyes widened when Sin's hand went to his pants, and was pushing them down. Holy frack... his underwear came off and the blood pounded at Dean's temple as he remembered the things they'd done in the shuttlecraft.

"Since water's rationed," Sam said as he bent over and picked up his underwear to lay it with the rest of his clothes, "I probably ought to only shower once." Still bent over, he twisted a little and looked at Dean. "You're sure you don't want to at least fuck me before I shower?" He spread his legs a little wider and ran his own hands up and down his inner thighs and began caressing his own cock, moaning softly.

Dean's own moan came out nowhere, followed by quick breaths to make up for oxygen deprivation. As Sin's hand went to his cock, Dean's mouth went completely dry. He wet his lips, swallowed, and wetted them again. "I'm... yeah, I'm sure. You should... you should go," he jutted his chin toward the door to the bedroom and by default the privy.

The lust was obvious, the desire plain on his master's face but...the answer was no? Maybe...maybe Dean just preferred him one hundred percent clean. He hadn't had more than a sponge bath or two after all. Sam put on his best smile and straightened, letting his cock go to swing freely. "Of course, Mas--Dean."

Carrying his clothes with him into the bathroom, he dropped them into the refresher and after orienting himself, turned the water on. He didn't even wait for it to get warm before stepping in. If water was rationed then he should be efficient. He got his hair and body wet, shut off the water, and washed himself thoroughly, ignoring the discomfort of the cool air on his wet skin. After he washed, he turned the water back on, hissing at its first cold blast. It was quite comfortable in the short time it took to rinse his hair. After rinsing off he stepped out and used the only towel he saw. His clothes had another fifteen centons before they would be fully refreshed so after he finished drying, he walked naked from the bathroom to his bed and dressed in the new clothes provided to him. They were warm and felt soft, though they weren't of as high of quality as his other clothes. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook off a few drops of water then returned to dining area table. Collecting the two trays of dirty dishes, he set them in the recycle slot. When he was done, he stepped behind Dean and began giving him a neck and shoulder massage. "Would you like to watch a movie now?" Sam asked.

It had taken Dean all that time to master his body's impulses. To force himself to stay at the table. To ignore the invitations Sin kept throwing his way. He thought he'd been successful. No Goddamnit, he had been successful, until Sin touched him. His strong fingers kneaded Dean's muscles, a rare luxury. His clean fresh scent wafted over Dean, making the Captain ache in ways he didn't need. Not here. Not now. Not under these circumstances.

He didn't answer for a few long centons, just accepting the massage, enjoying it... feeling himself both relax and tense in response. His head dropped back and he looked up at Sin, saw his wet hair plastered to his forehead, a few beads of water still dripping. Was he trying to kill him? "What? What did you say?" he asked, still fighting his desires.

Dean's pupils were dilated and his breathing had kicked up a notch. Sam could tell Dean's heartbeat had also jumped in speed. He smiled broadly, being sure to show his dimples. The Captain looked so fracking kissable, so very handsome that Sam didn't repeat his question but instead leaned over and kissed Dean deeply. His right hand drifted down Dean's chest, slipping over the ridges of the warrior uniform and descended to his master's groin. Finding Dean's cock, he caressed it through the fabric a moment before stepping around and settled onto Dean's lap, straddling him, hardly letting his lips leave Dean's. The heat was filling his gut as his blood travelled southward. He groaned in pleasure as he intensified the kiss and stroked Dean's cock.

"No... no... no..." Dean said, half chuckling, half moaning as he ineffectively tried to keep Sin's hand from traveling to his cock, and to move his mouth away. Fuck... he didn't want to move. No, he did want to move, but not in the way he should. He was going to draw away, he really was, but then Sin deepened the kiss and Dean instinctively chased that sweet hot tongue of his, moaning as he managed to pin it under his own for a centon. When he pulled back, Sin's tongue slipped from between his lips. He took a couple deep breaths, then grabbed Sin's wrist. "No... seriously, no," he said, voice thick and rough with lust. "Movie... in bed." The mischievous light in Sin's eyes scared him. "I mean you in yours, me in mine. Serious," he repeated, maybe even for his own benefit.

Sam was all for a movie in bed, though he didn't plan to watch it and he intended to do everything he could to see to it Dean didn't get to see much of it either. At least that was the plan until Dean grabbed his wrist and told him they'd be in separate beds. His brow furrowed in confusion but he stopped immediately and bowed his head. "Of course, Dean," he said softly.

He didn't understand. He could see Dean wanted him. Then again, perhaps he was mistaken. That blonde woman. Maybe that was who he wanted. But why did Dean buy a pleasure slave if not to seek pleasure? And he was certain he was better at sex than that blonde. More importantly though, he did not wish to upset Dean and risk his collar being taken away again. "I will get in bed and let you select the movie for us to watch."

"No. You select the movie." Leaning in, Dean gave him what could only be called a hug, and then guided him off his lap. Tomorrow, they'd talk about the arrangement between them. He just... he didn't want to confuse Sin more tonight and have to repeat everything in twelve centars or so when the drugs wore off.

Getting up, he gave Sin a little push toward the bedroom and followed him inside. Handing him the controls to the monitor, he quickly explained the flat buttons, though they were less complicated than the controls at the suite in the station. "Pick something good, no pressure."

Grinning, he walked over to his own bed, toed his boots off and sat down. He'd strip later, once Sin was engrossed in the movie. And once his own body got the message ... there wasn't going to be any sex.

Sam nodded as Dean explained the controls. He turned on the view screen and scrolled through various movie titles, pausing occasionally. He was reading through the titles trying to decide what Dean would consider good but had a feeling Dean did not want him to select a porn movie. He did a quick search on action movies and was reading over the names. Daekon of Rione movies? He had always enjoyed those movies of the intergalactic security officer. Daekon was smooth, suave, always got the bad guy and always got the girl, with lots of harrowing and sometimes approaching ludicrous adventures in between, and always saving the city or planet or even the Colonies. Sam had made it a practice to try to catch the Daekon movies on opening night. There were, holy frack, six he had missed. He quickly checked the dates associated with their releases to see their order. The Moons of Triskell was released almost twenty three yahrens ago and was the oldest one he hadn't seen.

He punched in the request excitedly and without thinking, hurried into the other room and using the small snack producer, ordered up two bowls of movie puffs, a couple mushies and two cups of fizzles to drink. He rushed back into the bedroom with the tray and set it on the nightstand. He grabbed one of the bowls of puffs, a mushie, and a glass of fizzle, leaving the rest for Dean, and set the food on the floor by his cot. Grabbing his pillow he threw it down to the foot of his bed, and practically flopped onto the cot. He stuffed the pillow under his chest then moved the food from the floor onto his bed and watched as the movie began to play. He wasn't hungry but you just couldn't watch a Daekon movie without puffs. That was sacrilegious or something, he was certain. He munched slowly on the puffs. He hadn't had puffs since his capture and they tasted just shy of heaven, and, he decided, were a comfort food he hadn't even marked as such. He'd save the sugary, fruity, marshmallow mushie for later in the movie. He always saved it for right near the climax. That was kind of a personal tradition of his.

"The classics, huh?" Dean grinned and shook his head as he rearranged his pillows and got more comfortable. He hadn't pegged Sin right at all, he'd thought Sin would be all about the modern. "At least they're not two dimensional... or, you know... brown and white," he teased. He himself was all about the classics and was glad of Sin's choice.

"Yeah," Sam said, swallowing back the lump that was suddenly in his throat. The classics. Great. Damn them all anyhow. "We can watch something else if you want. Tell me what you'd rather watch and I'll change it." He picked the remote back up and after a mournful glance at the screen began to hit the stop button.

"Sin... dammit," Dean sat straight up. "Could you please... please stop being so fracking paranoid? I like the classics. And if I didn't, you could still watch it. Can't a guy tease?" He knew he needed to keep his frustration in check, but between the undeniable chemistry between them, the need to keep it as platonic as possible, and the slave/master crap that did not thrill him, Dean was having a hard time of it, too.

Sam hit pause and looked over his shoulder at Dean. "I am not being paranoid. This is your home and I am your slave. I live to see that you are happy. There are thousands of movies and if you didn't like the...classics...we could just as readily watch a movie of one that you did like rather than one you didn't want to see. I'm not picky about movies though I'm not a fan of stupid comedy or horror where the people are...tortured. Well, stupid comedy is okay if I'm drunk enough I guess. It will take me some time to learn when you are teasing. I'm sorry. I'll try harder but," he looked down at the floor before returning his gaze to Dean. "I would rather think you are serious than make the mistake of thinking you weren't when you are. I want you to be happy with me."

Not waiting for Dean's response, he hit play again and settled back down to watch the movie, but felt the tension in his shoulders. He was beginning to think Dean was trying to confuse him on purpose.

Dean dry scrubbed his face, another wave of guilt sweeping over him. "I tease a lot. I'd be happier if you assumed I was teasing and I'd tell you when I wasn't." He took a deep breath, then laid back. "I'd like that... sometime, getting real drunk and watching a stupid comedy. But not tonight." He eyed the drink Sin had left for him, but then his gaze flicked back to Sin on the cot, and the screen in front of him.

Sam sighed wondering how hard Dean hit if Sam assumed he was teasing and he wasn't. "If that is your wish, then I will," Sam said.

The credits had rolled past now and the movie itself was starting. Sam let himself get immersed in the movie. Old memories of before his capture tried to poke their way to the surface but the training kept beating them back. He would remember something only to have fear grip him and he would push the memory away. Maybe when the drugs were out of his system he would do better at staying in the now.

The flatness of Sin's voice didn't escape Dean, but there was nothing he could do about it, it was out of his control. Sin would start seeing the physicians, the shrinks, and they'd help deprogram him, since it was clear it was what he needed. And Dean hoped that so long as Sin knew he could stay here with him, that would be incentive enough for Sin to cooperate and work towards learning how to be a free man again. They'd formed some sort of bond, there was no doubt about it. Aside from the great sex, Dean felt a sense of responsibility toward this man. He wouldn't get him half way to freedom and then abandon him, no fracking way. Besides, he liked the rare glimpses of the unworried Sin he saw now and again. That was who he wanted to free from these bonds. He knew that Sin might be a bit co-dependent on him, just from the way he'd reacted to the rest of the world around them, and then calming once Dean had gone to get him out of the hospital. That would have to change too. It would take time, but Dean wasn't going to let Sin exchange one set of chains for another, especially not for chains of his own making.

Thoughts kept running through his mind so Dean was only half watching the movie when it ended. He rolled half off the side of his bed and looked down at the lower cot, and saw Sin's eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling rhythmically. He'd either missed the end or fallen asleep during the credits.

Getting off the bed, Dean took the food items away and put them on the table, then grabbed the remote and shut off the screen. Walking around the cot, he finally got out of his clothes and got into bed in only his shorts. It was strange having someone in his room and not in his bed. Actually, it would be stranger waking up with someone in his quarters. Ah well... so was the life of the Captain of the Red Squad. Grinning, he rolled onto his side and willed himself to sleep, a talent he'd honed because sometimes you just had to be able to grab your rest when you could.

* * *

Dean woke before his alarm but fought to go back to sleep. He was too comfortable, with a body pressing down on him, a face cradled in the crook of his neck, and moist hot breaths fanning his sensitive flesh. Putting his arm around his phantom lover, he smiled slightly. Thanks to Sin he'd now started dreaming of male lovers? It was kind of funny.

Yeah, until he felt the body move, and heard a soft sound... and opened his eyes to find he was holding... Sin! Last night... he was damned sure Sin had been in his own bed. Had they...

He licked his lips and thought back, but couldn't remember a fracking thing. If they had fucked, he was pretty sure his body would tell him. Course there were other signs... signs that they had not fucked, like a too aware cock that was getting harder by the centon. He grit his teeth and held his breath, willing those feelings to go away.

Sam made a contented sound as he felt Dean's arm encircle him and tried to nestle a little closer. By the Lords it was so nice to wake up with someone he liked. He felt Dean's cock beginning to press against him and smiled. Slowly he ran his hand down Dean's back to his ass and pulled them a little closer together, rubbing against the man as his own cock began to take interest and fill.

Sometime during the night Sin had awakened. Unaccustomed to hearing someone else in the room but not next to him, he'd had a moment of panic, then remembered...sort of...that he was Dean's now. He had shed his clothes and carefully slid into bed with Dean. He didn't understand why Dean didn't wake him up. He must have fallen asleep as soon as the movie ended. He was very good at getting in and out of bed without waking his companions so, though he feared he had almost woken Dean, he managed to slip in with him and promptly fell back asleep. Honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well. But he also had to admit, it felt like it had been forever since he had last had sex. At this point, all he knew was he was definitely ready for some and began to nuzzle Dean's neck.

The motions were subtle, little movements that sent one loud message blaring to Dean's brain and to his cock. Boiling hot need for the man in his arms. "Oh Gawds...." he groaned, his fingers biting into Sin as he closed his eyes, struggling against the need to thrust... to rub back against Sin. "Not doing this... not doing this... not doing this," he chanted under his breath, never realizing he'd said the words aloud.

Sam heard Dean's whispers and that was all it took. He froze. He felt Dean's almost bruising grip, felt the tension that filled Dean's body, and his cock was most certainly ready...but Dean didn't want him. He clenched his jaw and simply rested his head against Dean's chest, feeling the pounding of Dean's heart. Moving his hand from Dean's ass he pulled his hand up close to his chest and curled it in so he wouldn't be touching Dean. It was hard, so fracking hard, but he forced his erection to soften. It wasn't gone, but it wasn't growing and would soon disappear. He blinked back the tears and at that point stayed motionless. Maybe...maybe he could find that blonde for Dean and she would be more to his liking.

"Sin..." Dean's voice came out breathy, like an invitation, or something, and he could have kicked himself. He loosened his grip, then stroked the side of the man's face, cupping his cheek, swallowing as he felt Sin's mouth touch his flesh, not in a kiss but just rub over him. "Thank you." For stopping. For not making this worse. For not making it impossible for Dean to keep to his decision.

For just a moment, Sam felt his heart jump. Maybe Dean did want him! And then...he knew exactly what the thank you was for and he felt his breath hitch and a tear slid out of the corner of his eye. Dammit. He could not let Dean see this. He couldn't. He reached up as if brushing some hair off of his own forehead and deftly wiped away the tear with his thumb.

Dean was quiet for a while still fighting his demons, though it was easier with Sin's cooperation. "It's early. Why don't you sleep some more. I'll get a shower and order breakfast. Alright?" His own mouth brushed over Sin's soft hair, and he knew... knew he shouldn't add to the man's confusion.

"Of course, Dean," Sam said, putting on the fake smile he was so very good at. He made it as easy as possible for Dean to get out of bed. As soon as Dean rose, he situated himself and closed his eyes, pretending to go back to sleep, making his breathing slow and even. But once he heard the Captain leave the room, Sam curled in on himself and lay there, his arms wrapped around himself and staring at the wall, lost as to what to do and how to make his master happy.

Fifteen centons later, Dean emerged from the bathroom with a towel 'round his waist. For the first time in forever, he'd taken a cold one by choice. It had helped, but he knew the torture wasn't over. The chemistry between them, for whatever reason, was too strong. It didn't take much to ignite it. Hell, just seeing Sin innocently lick his lips could do it.

Or seeing him in his bed. There was that. Dean almost groaned and dragged his gaze away as he walked to the other side of the room to get dressed. "Yesterday was hard. Every day it'll be a little easier," he said not looking at Sin. "You'll adjust. Trust me."

Sam almost shuddered. It'll get easier. You'll adjust. He had heard those words at...at...Thiros. That's right. Where he was trained. And it had and he had. He had learned to stop rebelling against the system. Learned there was less pain if he simply did as he was told, no matter what it was he was told to do. "Of course, Dean," Sam answered. Since Dean was talking to him, he obviously expected Sam to be awake.

Sam sat up and got out of bed. His refreshed clothes were still in the bathroom, but the clothes from last night he had hardly worn, so he slipped into them. He made both their beds quickly and professionally then stood, his hands at his side, practically at attention, waiting for Dean to tell him what he should do next.

Now dressed and turning, Dean almost banged into Sin, who was standing there like a warrior on guard. He glanced over at the beds, then at Sin. Letting out a breath, he took the man's hand and pulled him out to the other room, and one hand on his shoulder, pushed his stiff form to have him sit down at the table.

He sat across from Sin and held his gaze. "I think you're ... you're confused about what's expected from you, what you need to be doing. I can tell," he nodded, "even if I'm not the most aware person in the fleet about people's emotions. I want you to relax, Sin. Listen to me carefully, I don't want you to wait on me hand and foot. You don't have to clean up after me, or make me comfortable, or any of that other stuff you were forced to do for clients on that station. You want to make me happy?"

Happy? Yes! Sam very much wanted to make Dean happy!

Dean took a deep breath. "Be yourself. This... my quarters, they're our quarters for now. Feel at home. Like it's your place too. Treat me like... like you would a friend. An equal. It's how I look at you Sin," leaning forward, he put his hand on Sin's shoulder, "not as someone who needs to walk behind me... someone who walks in step with me. No different than Michael." Squeezing, he let go and sat back.

"I know you were expecting me to... Look, you and I, we're not having sex again, alright? Not until you're all adjusted, and ready to be fully free. Remember, right from the start... when we met, I told you I don't want sex with a slave. Forced sex, it's not my thing, Sin." He didn't want to crush him, and he knew that sex was what Sin thought was his best, maybe his only, asset. It was what gave Sin a sense of worth. "Don't get me wrong, it's not 'cause I don't want it... you. Hell... I took a fracking cold shower because I do want you, a lot. Just... we're gonna be friends for now, just friends, because I can't use you. I won't."

Sam hardly knew what to say. He sat silently for a centon, chewing over Dean's words. "I don't really remember a lot of ...Thiros? The training, it breaks up your memories when you get a new owner. I'm not sure if they'll come back. Bits and pieces have, but," he shook his head, "I'm not sure how much will return and they don't always make sense. Sudden moments of clarity happen, like with the movie. I always went to see those movies opening night and I always had to have puffs and mushies when I watched them. This scrambling of the memories, it's to give the new owner a clean slate, to make me like you want me to be. I don't have a 'myself' to be, Dean."

He took a breath and continued. "I know I'm a pleasure slave. At least, that's what my training was for. I don't remember being sold to you. I know I'm yours though. I think you're drop dead hot as the Borellian Desert hot and I know I really want to make love to you and that has nothing to do with being your pleasure slave. It's not a duty, it's a desire." He stared at Dean a moment and added softly, "And if you don't want to make love to me, okay, but if you do, you're not using me. I want you." He sighed. "I think there is probably a way to retrieve what I was before you bought me. A keyword or something, because sometimes people want what they knew and that's why they buy a particular slave in the first place. But I don't know what that keyword is or how to find out. I...I guess I disobeyed and that triggered the brain scramble. I'm not really sure how it all works. I know I want to make you happy, that's part of the training, but that you don't want me, that you don't want to make love to me...that makes me unhappy. And I shouldn't feel that if it were the training. I should only want what you want me to be."

Sam licked his lips. "I'm terrified to leave your quarters, and I don't know why. It's something...something from my past. Nothing to do with training." He gave Dean a pleading look. "I don't know what to be, Dean. I can't be someone I don't remember. And I can't sit around and do nothing all day. I need you to give me things to do because I don't have any idea what to do. If you want to translate that to I need to serve you, I need to wait on you hand and foot, then I'm sorry. But," he straightened and meet Dean's gaze a little defiantly, "I think a bored Sin is a bad idea."

"All of that, we'll make sure the docs know it. They'll find a way to unlock this... you," Dean nodded. Borellian Desert hot. No no no, he shouldn't be that flattered, he shouldn't feel his pulse racing at the words, at the heat in Sin's eyes. He knew Sin was telling the truth about wanting him but Dean was equally sure it wouldn't be a healthy situation. He'd ask the psych... maybe.

Dean smiled. "A bored Sin is dangerous... I'll bet. And I'll keep it in mind. Won't give you time to get bored." His mind was already working on it. "Today, you can watch movies..." Had he said he used to watch the opening nights of Daekon at the movies? He had to be from an outer rim world if they'd been that far behind in movies and to have gone when he was a kid! "And read, or maybe catch up on history if you want? Then you have an appointment for an exam. I'll come get you, go with you," he clarified. "Over the next few days, there'll be quite a few people who will want to talk to you. I'll try to have the discussions take place right here, or come with you. Okay? Now how about you order us breakfast," he grinned. "See... giving you work."

Sam wasn't really thrilled with the idea of watching movies all day though he wouldn't mind watching a couple he supposed. And reading was okay, but something about the thought of reading history made him want to just throw up. He was used to exams by doctors so that wasn't a big surprise. Talking with a bunch of people? No, that wasn't a great big thrill and kind of scared him. He hoped Dean would be with him but he knew the Captain had work he had to do. Maybe he could get Dean to take him to the gym. He was used to working out a lot. Better yet, maybe Dean could bring him weights and he could stay in quarters and work out. As for breakfast, that he could do. He touched the button to order.

"Breakfast, please. Two orders of flat cakes with syrup and butter, sides of smoked jendi, and two glasses of belei juice." He looked at Dean. "Is that okay? Do you want coffee from the kitchen or from the snack server?"

"The server, it's quicker," Dean nodded. "If you get cabin fever, you can always let me know. There are shops and restaurants, quite a lot of them, but not as many as on some of the other ships that are geared for entertainment," he said. "You just give me the word... just remember, you're not a prisoner here. Whenever you're ready, you can walk out, walk around." He wanted to be sure he was getting through, though it was pretty clear to him that no matter how many times he told Sin that he wasn't his slave... Sin went back to believing he was. It was that fracking programing. It wasn't entirely true, either, that Sam was completely free to walk around, not until they were sure he wasn't a Cylon agent. Dean had no doubt there were security guards lurking nearby in the event Sin tried to leave. He would make it perfectly clear that they were not to be seen, that they should be discreet. Besides, if Dean's gut was wrong--which he didn't believe for a micron it was--letting Sin wander about might help discern that, if Sin did something a Cylon agent might.

When Sin brought his coffee to him, Dean had to promise himself that tomorrow he'd get the coffee. A part of him did love to get served. It wasn't unlike him to ask a honey to go get him a drink, but this was different, and he had to be very careful. "What about you, Sin? Is there anything you want? Need?"

"Weights?" Sam asked hopefully. He thought for a centon as he sipped his coffee. "Sturdier shoes? An account on your computer so I can save files and play computer games? I remember seeing agro ships. I did, didn't I? Could I...I visit one? There was a place on Thiros, a small garden, I remember that, but I'd like to see...to pretend...like I'm on a planet. A big garden. Trees. I'd really like to see a couple trees. Is that...is that okay?"

"Sure. Of course it is," Dean threw his head back and laughed. It was the sound of relief. He had almost given up hope on Sin asking for something for himself, and this made him happy. "None of that is a problem. You know the reason I was on Thiros? I was looking for a place where our people could take some shore leave. This means we're still looking, and when we find it... you will be on a planet," he nodded. He felt sorry for most of the people confined on the ships. At least those who were pilots or had legitimate merchant business were able to go to the various worlds they passed, as necessary.

Sam was very pleased he had made Dean smile and laugh. It was a relief to see something other than frustration in his sexy green eyes.

"Thiros...that's where you bought me, right? I'm trying to remember, but every time I start to remember something, it hurts and shatters apart like broken glass. Except weird things. Like I remember the garden. But I guess that's not weird because the garden, that was a reward. We could go there if we did well. If we didn't..." Sam shook his head and didn't finish the sentence.

"You don't remember Thiros, how we met... how we left?" Dean asked, shocked, and maybe a little disappointed. The memories of the things he'd said, how he'd acted back there would clue Sin into what he was doing now. But more than that... it had been special, even if it had just been sex.

Sam gave a frustrated shrug. "Bits and pieces. I remember a hot tub and you...you and your stare. You told me a story. I don't remember it, but when I think of it, I know it made me feel like the most special person in the system." Sam grinned a little, "And I remember you practically made me come just by looking at me when you told me the story. I remember we had sex and I remember thinking it was the first time I had enjoyed sex, really enjoyed it in such a long time. I remember I was in a dress and all made up for you. And you had furry ears. I remember playing cards with you. I remember dancing for you on stage. I remember...being upside down for you. And I remember you being the best kisser I've ever met. Except for maybe me, of course," he added a bit mischievously but then sighed. "I remember being on a shuttle and a first aid kit that was missing all its bandages. I remember drinking ambrosa with you and feeding you delicacies. We landed aboard ship and I...I ran from you. That's what happened! I ran and that's why the collar punished me and why everything is messed up in my head. And then you were going to...to execute me for disobeying, for trying to run. I don't even remember why I ran. I won't run again. You know that, right? I swear I won't try to run again."

Dean's broad smile was wiped away all of a sudden and his hand came down over Sin's on the table, gripping it. "Yes, Sin, don't run... don't run again," he nodded. "But if you do... are you listening? Even if you do, you will not be executed. That won't happen, you're too... too valuable for that, and not in the sense you think either. It doesn't have to do with cubits."

"I won't. I promise," Sam said, though he couldn't fathom how he was valuable in any way but cubits.

There was a knock. Dean released Sin's hand, then called 'come.' Their food was brought in and left on the table. Dean locked gazes with Sin. "I'm glad you remember the... the kissing... and the tub... and oh Gods... upside down..." he gave an almost wolf whistle at the thought of the things they'd done. "Couldn't stand it if I'd been the only one to remember." He smiled again.

Sam tilted his head. "If you liked it, and I liked it, and I want to have sex with you again, how come you won't? You know, there's more than one way to have sex upside down."

"There is? Like what... cut that out," he sliced his hand through the air. "You're just going to get me worked up," he said, starting to open one of the trays up, and looking at Sin from under his lashes. His mind wouldn't let go though, he was imagining variations on upside down sex and just... frack... he was getting hard again. "Behind that innocent face... imp... total imp," he said, pressing his thighs together under the table.

"You didn't answer the question," Sam pointed out, but took solace that Dean said he did like it and that he even had to take a cold shower this morning because of Sam. Fine. If he had to seduce Dean to get him to have sex with him again, he could do that. He could also see Dean's mind whirling away with the possibilities and grinned to himself. His master liked creative positions for sex. With that realization, it was like a floodgate of memories opened and all sorts of interesting positions occurred to him.

"Oh, along with the weights could I get a pull up bar, just one to put up in the doorframe that can be taken down when not in use?" he kept his voice neutral and matter of fact but knew exactly where Dean's mind was going to go with that request and that was exactly where he wanted Dean's mind to go.

About to answer, Dean went utterly silent. Hadn't Sin mentioned hanging from bars, leaning against them, and... He let out a deep breath and stabbed his fork into his food, not tasting it as he chewed. He tried not to think about it, tried real hard, but his body told him how badly he was failing. He might have to get very close to his right hand.... very close, and very soon. His gaze briefly touched Sin's but he didn't answer him, wasn't capable of it at the moment.

They ate for a few minutes in silence, and Sam's mind drifted back to their earlier topic, of when he ran. He hated to ruin the mood but he also needed to know.

"Michael's afraid I'm going to be violent again, isn't he? I'd never hurt you. I can't hurt you. I was just...scared. Did I hurt anyone very badly? I don't remember if I did. But I know I did fight with some people. I remember when I was being trained that they thought about making me a gladiator instead of a pleasure slave because I fought so well, but...." Sam's eyes grew distant. It had been forbidden. He wasn't allowed to touch weapons. He refocused on Dean and smiled. "I was too pretty they said."

"Did they say that? I'd say you're more... beautiful than pretty, and don't you dare quote me," he added, giving the Sin a look. "Anyway, that explains why it took so many security personnel to calm you." Well, it didn't fully explain it, there was still the question of what Sin had done before he'd been enslaved. "They'll be fine. Broken bones. Teeth. Fractures... just fine." The more he talked, the worse he was making it sound, he realized.

Beautiful. Dean thought he was beautiful. Sam felt his heart flutter at that. He winced, though, when Dean told him what he had done but as far as he was concerned he had been fighting for his life. "Please tell them I'm sorry. I was desperate to get away. I hope the doctors were able to fix everything okay?" At Dean's nod he breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm not one to fight, not physically anyhow. I don't like to unless I don't have a choice."

His gaze traveled around Dean's quarters. "You have such large quarters. My room had barely enough space for the bed and table and chair. It was as small as a...it was small. I know you don't want me to serve you, but I'm use to keeping things very orderly because if I didn't I would trip over things in my tiny room. Would it be okay if I straightened up a little? It would," and here Sam gave an embarrassed smile, "sort of scratch an itch, if you know what I mean. If you like it messy, though, I won't touch a thing," he added hurriedly.

"I never had that kind of itch, I thought it was a 'girl thing.' Anyway, I don't like it messy... I just am," he answered, a little unsure how he felt about anyone going through his things. "Okay, everything is fair game except my desk... at least until I go through it," he answered. "I think I imagined your room was a lot bigger than this. Something more along the lines of that suite... which I'm not going to think about unless I want to limp out of here," he said raising a hand to cut off any comments.

"Being organized is not a 'girl thing.'" Sam protested. "Being a warrior, I would think neatness would have been trained into you." A teasing smile danced on his lips. "I can only assume privileges of being a Captain allow you to scatter your belongings." Growing more serious he added, "Your desk is off limits. Check. I will not touch it. Our rooms were only meant for recuperation and study. Otherwise..." Sam furrowed his brow, the hazy memories trying to worm their way through, "...we worked or trained, both in the weight room and learning new techniques of pleasure giving and appropriate social graces. We had a tiny privy in our room. It didn't even have a door. It was really only for when we were injured or sick. We had community privies to use normally."

Dean ate a little more, then threw a questioning look at Sin's plate. "You always eat like a Moravian mouse?"

"I didn't eat for several days. Still can't eat a lot unless I stuff myself but I am accustomed to intaking sufficient calories for my job and for working out several times a week. I have not been," he gave Dean a pointed look, "burning calories either. I do not wish to change my weight unless you would prefer that I do. If you would like to help me burn calories, I'm sure my appetite for food will increase to match my other appetites."

Dean glared at him. "Are you intentionally giving me a hard time? I mean, if you're interested, I am... hard, but... we're still not doing it." Finishing his coffee, he stood up. "I'll be back in three centars to get you to the docs. Do you know how to operate the communicator to contact me?" he asked, nodding to the wall unit.

Sam gave him a seductive smile. "I am more interested than you could imagine. I haven't gone more than a day or two without sex in a long time. And then there you are, hot, gorgeous, delicious, and...telling me 'no.' I will give you no pity or mercy. Just so you know," Sam said, hoping Dean didn't flat out order him to behave. He would, because he had no choice, but he didn't want to. He gave a nod. "I know how to call you. I'll keep myself productive and be ready for you in three centars. I'd be even more ready if you came back in two and we had a centar to kill," Sam said, and finally finished off the last of his meal. Gods, he was stuffed.

"Sin..." Dean groaned, and grabbed his jacket. "Get familiar with your right hand." Giving him a look, he quickly disappeared out the door knowing there would be no end to this conversation and half worried and half excited by it. Hot, gorgeous and delicious... he'd actually called him all those things. A very broad smile spread across Dean's face as he walked the halls and ignored the questioning looks from those who knew he didn't usually walk around grinning like an idiot.

* * *

As soon as Dean left, Sam got a quick shower, wanting to be presentable for Dean when he returned. He wished Dean would come back a centar early, but knew that was unlikely so he went to work straightening and cleaning. It felt good to be doing something. He grimaced at the blank walls as he cleaned. That wouldn't do, it reminded him too much of his time there and as soon as Dean set up an account for him on the computer he would hunt for some pictures to print off. Of all the things he had forgotten, why couldn't he forget them?

The captain had some interesting keepsakes stuffed here and there on the shelves and Sam was already planning on how to showcase them without making it overt. He'd never really decorated someone's quarters before, but it was something to do.

He had only gotten about half the room dusted and partially straightened when the buzzer at the door sounded. Sam chewed on his lip a moment. Dean wouldn't return for another half a centar or so and he wasn't certain if he should answer it. Finally he went to the door and hit the open button. Lt. Michael stood there.

Sam bowed a little and dropped his gaze. "Hello Lt. Michael. The captain isn't in. He should return in about half a centar. May I help you?"

"To an early grave? Nope," Michael answered, trying to see past Dean's new roommate. He'd swung by Dean's office and hadn't seen him there and he had yet to receive the combat training schedule for the next sevenday, which was unusual. "Where is he?" Blue eyes snapped to search Sin's face, not quite hostile, but definitely distrustful.

"I'm sorry for...making your life difficult, Lieutenant. Removal of a slave collar only happens when they plan to execute you and...I didn't want to be executed." Sam finally looked into those blue eyes. He decided that they were quite an attractive shade of blue. "You were very kind to stay with me all that time and try to reassure me. And thank you for delivering the bag of items to Dean. I...offered to my master that I would be willing to service you in repayment for your kindness. He did not take to the idea, but if it would please you, you might ask Dean about it. I would be honored to offer you repayment for your kindness if you gain his approval for me to do so." Michael was quite attractive and Sam decided he would enjoy servicing the lieutenant. If Dean kept refusing him and if Michael seemed interested, perhaps he would ask Dean again if he might visit Michael and offer his services to him.

"Don't thank me, my ass was on the line too," Mike answered somewhat gruffly, though it now became clear why the man had gone ballistic. "You offered to... I get paid enough," he said, a bit taken aback, and even more so at the rest of what Sin told him. "So, do you know where he is?"

Sam shook his head. "It wasn't my place to ask where the Captain went to. As I said, he will return in about half a centar. I have an appointment with a doctor that he will escort me to. ...Since you are his lieutenant and he entrusted me to you, I don't believe he would be angry with me if I invited you in to wait. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah," he walked inside, still watching the man. "So what's this about Dean being your 'master?' Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, I don't think Dean flies that way." The thought of Dean with a man had him wanting to laugh. "Besides... there are the legalities to be considered." It occurred to Mike that maybe he should shut his mouth until he heard the full story from Sin, and then from Dean.

Sam went over and started the coffee and pulled out two mugs. "It's complicated," Sam admitted. "More so because I don't recall the details."

As Sin walked away, Mike couldn't help noticing his graceful walk, almost like every step was calculated to make you notice him, only he made it look so easy. His gaze slid over the guy's perfect ass, then up to his broad shoulders, then he looked away. Trained male socialator... bet he'd be something in bed.

Sam turned and noticed Mike's gaze roaming over the room, a room he had probably been in a hundred times before. That likely meant Mike had been looking at him and didn't want Sam to know it. That brought a small smile to his lips. "When a slave is sold, their memories can be more or less wiped out, at least scrambled enough to make it hard to recall their previous owner and his ways. I tried to run when the ship landed. That activated the collar. It scrambled my memories. Bits and pieces come through and I might be able to sort them out, or if Dean can determine the trigger word the memories can be restored. Though why they didn't give him the trigger word, I don't know. They should have when he purchased me."

Sam filled the mugs with the ready coffee and brought them over to the table and waited for Mike to sit before he seated himself. "I remember him at the table playing for one of the packages and I know that he won. I was part of the package." Since Mike seemed unaware that Dean slept with men, Sam assumed Dean would not want Mike to know. "I have many talents aside from pleasuring, such as massage, I can sing and dance and offer challenges at many types of games."

Mike pulled the mug over and listened, surprised to hear about Sin's recent memory loss. That was unexpected. He had to smile at Sin's descriptions of his talents. Once he was settled, Mike would bet all his cubits that Sin would transfer to The Rising Star, the best known resort and gambling ship in the fleet.

"He was put up for the night in the best suite, all the food and any type of entertainment he could want. It is one of the better packages that can be won on Thiros. The suite has a beautiful view of Castiel, the planet Thiros is in geosynchronous orbit about. I recall us talking at the bar and he wanted to know if I was really human." Sam thought for a moment. "I was the only human on Thiros. I...I don't remember an auction or when ownership of me was transferred to him. I know I was a very expensive pleasure slave and very popular since I was unique. I imagine I cost him quite a lot." Sam sipped his coffee and shook his head. "I remember sitting on the sleeping mats with Dean in the shuttle and we played cards to pass some of the time. We landed and...I don't remember why I ran but I did, I was punished, and believed I was to be executed. You probably have a better idea of what happened then than I do. I know I fought people and hurt people. I'm sorry if I hit you or hurt you." Sam looked up and met Mike's gaze. "I heard you talking with Dean last night. I'm not dangerous. I swear. I was just scared."

"You're dangerous when scared," Michael said, not mincing his words, but not unsympathetic. "So we'll just have to avoid scaring you. I'd run too, if I interpreted a situation to mean execution." He took a sip of the hot liquid, and set the mug down. "I think you should read Dean's report. It will give you a clear idea of what happened, and it will be accurate. Mostly," he grinned. "You know what they say, what happens off ship stays off ship..."

"Thank you for understanding. And yes, I would like to read his report. I will ask him about it." Sam laughed a little. "Yes, what happens at Thiros stays on Thiros. I understand that very well."

The doors whooshed open, and Dean walked in, already speaking. "I'm early and no... it is not for sex, Michael?!" He came to a sudden standstill, seeing his first lieutenant having coffee with his... his... his roommate.

"Michael? You only call me that when you're angry or flustered, Captain," Mike smirked.

Sam practically jumped to his feet. "I hope it's okay I invited him in. He was looking for you and I knew you'd be back soon for me. I assumed since he's your first lieutenant, and that you entrusted my welfare to him when we arrived, that it would be okay to offer him coffee." Sam had made a lot of assumptions and he wasn't sure if Dean would be mad at him. He had answered the door and then invited someone in? Really, he knew he didn't have the right but Dean seemed to want him to be independent and make choices on his own.

"Relax," Dean walked past both men and got a mug for himself and started to get coffee. "What... ah... what are you guys talking about?" He looked over his shoulder at them, eyebrow raised.

"Your sexcapades," Mike said casually.

"My what?" Spilling the hot coffee over his hand, Dean cursed and came over to the table, nodding for Sin to sit too as he did.

"Your escapades, at the station. Sin doesn't remember much. You're going to need to give him your report," Mike suggested, grinning.

"Ah..." Still a little suspicious and wondering if his sexcapades had really been the topic of conversation, Dean searched Sin's face, then decided, he really did not want to know. "Looks like you kept busy," he said, noticing immediately how he could see a lot of 'surface space' on desks and tables.

Aghast at Mike's slip of the tongue Sam gaped at Mike. He hadn't said anything about having sex with Dean! He glanced a little fearfully between the men, then, seeing the look on Mike's face and Dean's, he decided Mike was just giving Dean a hard time and he let out a tiny sigh of relief. "Yes, I would like to read the report," Sam said as he met Dean's gaze innocently. Seeing Dean look around at what Sam had managed to clean so far he nodded. "But I've got a lot more to do. Will you get me an account on the computer tonight?" Sam asked hopefully. He couldn't very well print out pictures if he couldn't get on the computer.

"Yeah, I'll take care of it." It had slipped Dean's mind, though he'd meant to do it earlier. "You want to read my report." Dean thought about the discrepancies Sin would find, but nodded. "Fine. Mike can shoot you a copy to your computer account. Don't print it out."

"Such a slave driver." Feeling Dean's gaze and also Sin's, Mike shrugged. "Sorry, poor word choice."

Dean knew Mike had a sarcastic streak but yeah, that had been just a slip. "It's fine, just a turn of phrase. Don't you have work to do?"

At the hint, Mike drained the remainder of his coffee and got up. "Like I said, slave driver. Though it would help if you sent me the combat training schedule for the next sevenday." He reached the door and turned. "And I ran into your dad, he said to let you know there's a game on tomorrow."

Giving a shake of his head in acknowledgment, Dean watched his friend leave. He looked back at Sin. "You feeling... better today?"

Dean wasn't the only one watching Mike leave. Sam decided he liked Mike. Refocusing on Dean he said, "if you mean are the sedatives out of my system, yes. My memories are still..." he shrugged, "scrambled." He walked up to Dean, wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, and pulled him into a heated kiss. He could tell Dean both wanted the kiss and what it promised, and yet he didn't and it frustrated Sam. Finally he broke the kiss and looked down into Dean's eyes murmuring softly, "but I do remember we had a lot of fun." Releasing Dean he stepped back.

Dean hadn't been able to help himself, he'd responded. Letting out a heavy breath, he wiped his mouth with his thumb and gave Sin a look.

"But you said you weren't here early because of sex." Sam tilted his head a little as he studied Dean. "I don't understand. You surely paid a great deal for me. You know I'm the best lay you've ever had." Smiling at Dean he added, "and I think I can say the same of you. My memories may be fracked up, but I remember enough."

"You know that, do you?" Dean cleared his throat, but couldn't manage to contradict Sin. Really, he was scrambling to be prepared for whatever the guy dished out, he knew it was coming.

Running his fingers down Dean's chest Sam said, "You want me to make choices. I choose you. Why can't you believe me? If I didn't want you, trust me when I say I could make certain you didn't want me either."

Looking down at Sin's hand, Dean wished he could do something about the fact that he had a sharp memory and was remembering how they'd touched each other. How good it had been. His muscles tensed, and almost reluctantly, he gripped Sin's wrist. "I believe you, on all counts. I was right there with you," he said, his voice a little thicker than usual. He licked his lips. "But I cant... I can't let you make that decision until you're ready to make others, Sin. Until you feel free, here," he touched Sin's chest in turn, "and here," he touched his temple.

He stepped back, away from Sin. "You know what? You'll be seeing doctors, both for your physical condition and to check your mental state, to help you lose... this." This time he reached out and touched the handsome man's collar. "Now I'm not a doctor, but I'm a betting man, and I'm betting every last one of them tells you... not a good idea for anything to happen between us, not right now. I'm not willing to frack up your future just because I want..." He looked down. "Yeah, so it means that one or both of us is gonna just have to get used to being hard. A lot. All the time," he shrugged, and tried to laugh it off.

Sam caught Dean's hand at his collar. "Did you ever think that maybe, right now, I need someone to love me? That I need to feel valued? You denying me, all my training screams that I'm not pleasing you and drives a spike of fear through me so deeply, I can't explain it. I want to please you. I need to please you. But more than that, I want you...to love me." Sam looked down at the floor and let go of Dean's hand. "I've never had anyone love me," he said softly. He swept up Mike's cup and took it to the recycler. "I'm sorry. We don't even know each other beyond...I'm just being...I'm just a little...scared I guess. Scared you'll sell me and I don't ever want to leave you. I'd rather be your slave forever than be free and you not be there." Sam felt his face color. He couldn't remember the last time he had blushed. "Sorry. I'm being all...I'm being stupid. You can have anyone. I'm just some stranger you rescued from Thiros because I'm human. And I talk way too much."

"Not stupid. Just... human," Dean said, following him and, from behind, enveloping Sin in his arms, holding him close, but resting his chin on Sin's shoulder. He didn't know what he could do about the conflicting feelings Sin was suffering as a result of his training but he'd talk to the docs. "You please me, you know you do. Love? Do you loveme?" In the business that he'd been in, Sin had to know the difference between sex and love, and that he wasn't in love. "The need to find love, that's also definitely a human trait. Maybe now that you're away from... from that place, all these feelings are coming out. You just need to sort them."

Sam wrapped his arms over Dean's and shut his eyes, sinking into the embrace. Did he love Dean? How could he? Really? But a part of him whispered, 'yes.'

Stepping back, Dean turned Sin around and looked him in his eyes, one hand cupping his face. "I care about you, a lot. For more than one reason. I want you to ... to find yourself. I need you to get to the point where... you can have anyone. Then we'll see if you pick from the bottom of the tank," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I think you could do a lot better. A helluvalot better."

Leaning into Dean's touch he smiled at Dean's words, hoping Dean meant them. He gave Dean an impish smile. "I can have anyone. And you know it. But I'm still going to choose you, if you let me. And you are not the bottom of the tank. Or if you are, it's just because you can hold your breath for so long and choose to be down there. I remember I liked it when you were on the bottom of the 'tank'."

Dean choked. "Thanks... for that memory. Did I mention I'd prefer not to freaking limp out of here?" He slid his hand down and squeezed Sin's shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here... before you make a liar out of me."

"I'd like to make a liar out of you," Sam said with a grin but the grin disappeared and he looked at the door with some trepidation. "I think I'd prefer you be my therapy," Sam sighed resignedly. "Should I...should I not tell them you and I had sex? Do you want to keep that secret?"

"I'll bet you would..." Dean started, then heard Sin's question and stopped mid stride. "Tell them the truth, they can't tell anyone anyway. Besides... I want whatever will help you, and hiding things... that's not going to help." Hitting the button, he opened the door and waited just outside it. "I know how you're feeling. Like I felt in the furry ears you gave me back at the station, but you don't remember that."

"Furry ears?" Sam asked. He shook his head. "I do hope that memory comes back. That had to be funny. I'm not even going to ask why I gave you furry ears. I didn't figure you one for role-play."

Dean searched Sin's face and his heart clenched at the fear in those otherwise fearless and mischievous eyes. "No different than escorting me around at Thiros station, now it's my turn to escort you," he said. "You're safe, safe with me." When Sin didn't make a move, he added, almost jokingly, "I'll kiss you when we get back, or stare you into coming... your choice."

Chapter Text

Sam took a deep breath and walked out the door. "I'll take the third option. My choice."

He immediately headed for the lift. The sooner he got this over with, the faster he could get back to where he felt safe and almost normal. Feeling eyes on him as they walked down the hall, he moved closer to Dean, seeking reassurance, and falling a half a step behind. Each time he saw a military uniform his gaze dropped and felt dread and guilt settle into him. Fresh flashes of memories assaulted him and his jaw clenched. He hurriedly locked them away, denying them. They had to be wrong. He was a pleasure slave, nothing more.

After a while, Dean adjusted his steps, forcing Sin next to him. He tried to keep him separated from people, though there was nothing he could do about the curious stares. He kept a one sided conversation going, though, telling Sin about the battlestar, its restricted and unrestricted levels and the location of the stores. He also pointed out the hallway that lead to his office.

"We've got some time, do you want to see the battle simulation training rooms? We can't afford to waste tylium so a lot of the cadet training is done here and you wouldn't believe how real it feels and looks." Since Sin had shown some knowledge about ancient battles, he thought he might be interested in seeing this, so he stopped in front of the entrance.

Sam stared at the door. Cadets? There would be mostly cadets in there? There was a part of him that wanted to go inside and there was a part that was afraid to. Glancing at Dean he could tell Dean was hopeful he might be interested. Dean wanted to show him a piece of himself, the warrior, wanted to offer Sam some concept of what he did. After a long moment of hesitation, Sam gave a short, quick nod.

Dean ushered him in first but Sam immediately side stepped so his back was against the wall. There were cockpits out on the floor and a sim was running. He watched as the images on the viewscreens matched the cockpit view and the spin of the stars. He walked slowly away from the wall as if entranced, his eyes shifting from screen to screen. Then Cylon raiders appeared and he fell back a step, his breath catching, a spike of fear almost strong enough to drive him from the room making him shudder and his body break out into a cold sweat. The chatter on the comlines drew him back though, his gaze flicking briefing to the control station where older viper pilots and trainers guided the simulations. His gaze returned to the screeens. He watched as one viper pilot pulled out from the others and he moved forward a little more.

"They're sucking you in. Stay with your squad," Sam murmured. "No, they're setting you up for a pinwheel. Pull up, pull up now!" he whispered. He saw the Cylons take on their classic pinwheel attack formation. One after another spinning down and pulling up, showering the viper with laser fire. "No, you can't turn, you have to pull up, follow them, break the wheel," he hissed as he watched the cadet trying to find his way out of the deadly maneuver. Sam's jaw clenched as the sim screen went dark for that cadet. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fool," he whispered.

His gaze stayed locked on the rest of the battle watching as the obviously more experienced kept the inexperienced hemmed in with them, not letting another cadet make the fatal mistake the first one had made. The sim finally ended and he heard one trainer call for a debrief and the lights came on. Shaking himself out of his almost trance, he was startled to find Dean at his shoulder.

"That-that was interesting. But I don't want to be late to see the doctor," Sam said, lying through his teeth. He was even more ready to get back to the safety of Dean's quarters than he had been before. "Shouldn't we go?"

Dean forced himself not to ask questions, not right now. Later maybe, but at the very least, he'd need to report this so Sin's background could be looked into. His brain had been scrambled, but inside there was someone who knew about battles, and how to avoid Cylon traps, and it was important that they find out how he had obtained this knowledge... who he was beside the man they'd turned him into. "Sure, come on."

As they stepped outside into the brightly lit corridor, Dean blinked. "On our way back, we can look for shoes... boots. If you're feeling up to it, we can eat out."

Sam's long legs let him keep up with Dean without any problem but he was glad to be away from the sim room. He noticed Dean casting sidelong glances at him and he was kicking himself. He never should have gone into the room. It just brought up scattered memories and horrible feelings and he didn't want to remember any of it. He knew he'd have nightmares tonight from it. Maybe he'd take some of his sleeping pills. If he took enough, he might still dream, but he wouldn't remember it in the morning. He was Sin. Slave Sixty-Nine. And that's all he wanted to be right now.

"I would like some boots," Sam acknowledged then glanced at Dean. "But don't you have to work?"

"I put in for a little time off, here and there. Kind of claimed you as my responsibility too, so," he grinned, "I can get credits for hanging around you even when I'm supposed to be working." They reached the medical area and headed for one of the conference rooms. "From what I understand, they're going to have a couple docs here to evaluate you."

He hit the buzzer and the door slid open. When they walked in, he introduced Sin to doctors Blankia, Mars and Scribus. He went to sit down to be with Sin when Dr. Scribus touched his shoulder.

"You'll have to leave, Captain. We'd like Sin to feel comfortable talking to us about everything... and health matters are not for public consumption."

"I'm not the public," Dean said, then looked at Sin. "You wanna do this alone, Sin? Whatever's best."

Sam felt panic well up in him. It was too much like the asylum ship. The smells and comp-pads and no. Just no. "I want you to stay," Sam said gripping Dean's arm tightly. "I don't wanna... I don't want to be here alone with them." He glared at the doctors. "After shooting me up with drugs and tying me down, no way. I don't trust you. Dean stays or I don't. He said it was okay to tell you anything."

Sam settled into a chair, pulling Dean down beside him, then took his hand like a child looking for comfort. He took a deep breath. "My health is fine. They kept me up on all my shots and vaccinations. If I got hurt, they took care of me. Made sure I didn't have any scars. Made sure my skin was perfect." Sam frowned a minute. "I think I used to have scars and they took them away. My memories, they trained me so my memories went all whacked so... so I don't remember things in any sort of linear order." He wasn't going to tell them it was because he ran from Dean and the collar was what scrambled his brain. "I get flashes of things especially if Dean says something to trigger them. I don't have any health problems that I know of. I worked out all the time to be attractive for the patrons." A new collection of memories resurfaced. "I was...I think I was one of their prized slaves. I was expensive to have. Slave sixty nine. They shortened it, made my name Sin. That made me even more popular. Everyone wanted Sin."

At first, Dean was taken aback by the hand holding, but he left his hand in Sin's and didn't give a damn what the others thought. Admittedly, he started to enjoy their expressions as Sin told them the basis of his name, something Dean hadn't realized, and details about how he was kept looking good. When he thought about it, he did recall the bastard Overseer calling Sin number Sixty Nine. He just hadn't realized 'Sin' was a shortened form of it.

"I see," Dr. Mars nodded. "It's not unusual in some cultures to scramble a slave's mind so that they won't have the will to run. There's nothing to run to if you can't remember. It's a wonder you did run. I think it's a very good sign that they have not been successful in eradicating your memories and personality, they may be locked up in your mind."

"I think we should have the collar analyzed too. There might be coding in it that can give us clues into--"

"No." It was Dean, and he knew they thought he was interfering, and he was. "Taking it off is what started..." he looked over at Sin. "He's trained to believe taking that off means execution."

"But we've explained..."

"Right, and so did I, and he understands, but--"

"Captain, we're interviewing Sin, not you. Please?"

Dean shut up and motioned for them to proceed.

Sam shook his head and gripped Dean's hand tighter. "No!" he practically shouted. "I don't want..." He felt himself begin to practically hyperventilate and forced himself to calm down before they gave him something to calm him down and maybe tried to take his collar.

"Dean says I can keep the collar until...until I don't need it anymore." His voice softened. "I don't want to be alone. I want to stay with Dean." He saw their looks and shook his head. "Not because he owns me. Why won't anyone give me credit for having my own thoughts?" He glared at the doctors he considered too arrogant for their own good. "I get that part of me says I have to stay with him. He's my master. But if I was unhappy and didn't want to, you don't think I'd jump at the chance to find a new master? Believe me, I'm very good at getting what I really want. I want to stay with him. He makes me feel safe. He cares about me."

Glancing over at Dean, he returned his gaze to the doctors. "I'm frustrated that he won't have sex with me again because of the collar. He's the best kisser and he's really good in bed--not that we were actually in bed a lot from what I remember." He smiled faintly, some of the memories of their night on Thiros returning. "I know I don't remember a lot of the sex I had on Thiros, but I know it didn't mean anything. But with Dean...I enjoyed it again. It was...special. He made me...makes me...feel special." With a slight nod as the memories trickled forth he continued. "They all bid on me, wanted me. He didn't know I was the prize. He was just playing to win. Nothing to do with me, and I think that made it better." Although he didn't remember the next part, it must have been the way it went down. "Then he bought me and took me away from there."

Now Dean wished he hadn't been here for this part. Seriously. He was looking down, but gripping Sin's hand to reassure him he was right here and that everything would be alright.

"There's something about this place that scares me, the battlestar, the military. I don't remember what though. I see things that don't make sense in my head. I see things, physical things, that are familiar, then I see other equipment that baffles me because I don't know what it is or how it works." Sam sighed in frustration and muttered, "I'm babbling. I hate it when I babble like this."

"Don't worry about that, just tell us anything that comes to mind. Getting it out there is the most important thing. We can use it to piece your life back together, but we need all the parts of the puzzle," Dr. Mars said. "I think we can have the collar examined while it is still on you, maybe replicate it and have something to work with."

Seeing Sin tense, Dean spoke up. "I'd like to be there when it's being examined." All three doctors nodded in agreement, and then Dean looked over at Sin. "About the military thing, you've said a couple of things that make me think there's something in your background." He quickly summarized how Sin had known his way around the shuttle, and his comments about Dean's book on battle strategy and the things he'd muttered when they'd watched the simulated battle.

"Sin, do you know the basis of your knowledge?" Dr. Blankia, a petite blond asked, giving him an encouraging smile.

Tan cloth made up his sleeves, his pants. He felt the chill of the backs of the metal insignia pins at his neck. Stars surrounded him and the thrum of the engines vibrated through his whole body. He twisted the joystick, hit the thrust, and the sheer joy, the freedom of it filled him. Then came the cold, the cold that made him sleep. It burned it was so cold. Pain and flashing lights, demands and questions. Questions on a computer screen before him as he took the final exam, books he recalled reading that held the answers to those questions. The gleaming silver, the flashing red light, the demands, the pain. The cold again. So cold. So much pain. They'd come for him. They wouldn't abandon him. He wouldn't abandon him. Wouldn't leave him there to rot. So he fought. He hoped. He waited and prayed...and they never came. Never. And finally it hurt too much. It hurt too fracking much and he should have died. He begged to die. When he didn't, when they wouldn't let him, he finally told them. He told them everything. Just to stop it. And because he knew no one was coming for him. He wasn't ever going home. They showed him his shame. The fires. The smoke. The dead bodies. The worlds destroyed. He helped. He gave them what they needed to save his own pathetic worthless skin. He failed, failed them all. Killed them all. ...But not all. They woke him from the burning cold. Asked questions about the Galactica. About the Pegasus. About their commanders. Their codes. Their weaknesses. Their strengths. He told them. He told them everything. Maybe he lied. Sometimes he thought he did, but the pain, it made it so hard to think. So much pain...

Sam stared wide-eyed at the doctor as the memories trampled through his mind, shattering it that much more. He didn't know when he started crying. He didn't know when he pulled Dean close and buried his head in Dean's shoulder and cried. He clung to Dean as if Dean was his life line.

"Don't abandon me. Don't forget me," he sobbed softly. "Don't leave me there."

"Sin, no one's leaving you here. You hear me, no one is abandoning you. I'm right here," he closed his arm around the man and patted his back, hard, making sure he knew he was right here with him.

"Sin, did you remember something?" Dr. Blankia asked, approaching the men, and touching Sin's arm, pulling at him.

For one crazy moment, Dean felt like shoving her away. Couldn't she see Sin needed comfort. But then reason won over emotions and he knew Sin was gonna have to fight for this, for his memories. Still... it was his first session. "Doc..."

"No," she said. "He has fleeting memories. We need to record them as they come. What did you remember, Sin?" she asked, this time more forcefully separating him from the Captain. "Do you remember your name? Your real name?"

Sam did not want to let Dean go and it took all his control not to backfist the bitch when she pulled them apart. He gave her a dark look and wiped away his tears. His gaze slid over the room trying to grasp where he was, who they were, why he was here. He'd been dragged back into the time before Thiros and that always messed with him. Pulling his arm free of her grasp, he snarled, "Who ever said I forgot it?" Anger was inappropriate for a slave, he calmed himself. "But I prefer Sin. That's who I am now. Who I was before, I don't want...I don't want to remember him and I don't want to be him."

Cocking his head, Dean listened, though he tried to keep his surprise from showing.

Sam's voice turned cold. "He was weak, worthless, pathetic. Not worthy of being remembered." His eyes grew a little distant. "No, he probably was remembered. For being a worthless betraying scum. So why should I want to remember him? It's better if that time is forgotten. Just...just get me back to what I was when Dean found me. Make me Sin again, the Sin Dean liked, loved, and wants me to be." Sam looked at Dean and lightly stroked his face. "Sin is worthy of being loved and remembered." His voice had turned almost pleading. "He is...isn't he?"

Dean opened his mouth, then shutting it, got up. "I think he's had enough for one day." He put his arm on Sin's shoulder, "maybe..."

"I concur." Moving to a view screen, Dr. Scribus started typing. "We'll set up a battery of appointments individually. Let's see how it goes and whether we need to explore other options eventually."

Looking down, Dean knew that meant truth serum and regression therapy. Dr. Scribus was there to be sure that Sin was no betrayer. Course the guy had to go and call himself that but a real traitor to the human race, someone like Baltar, would never identify themselves as a traitor. Sin did have a flare for the dramatic, and whether it was drilled into him by his training or already there before, they just had to accept and deal with it now.

"Very well," Dr. Blankia nodded, then gave Sin a kind smile. "I have a group therapy session for people who have had their minds altered, played with, brain washed... whatever you want to call it. I'll send you an invitation."

"He'll be there," Dean answered for Sin before any excuses could come out of the guy's mouth. "Let's go."

Sam looked from doctor to doctor and then up at Dean. That rush of memories had really thrown him off and he had said things he shouldn't have said. They were going to find out...something. Whatever it was that made him wake up screaming in the night. That made him break down because he knew, just knew, he had contributed to the near extinction of the human race. That last flash of memories brought a lot more of his past life, his life before Sin, to the surface and he rebelled against them. He didn't want them. He didn't want them at all.

Sam pushed himself out of the chair and practically fled from the room, leaving Dean behind. He knew what they were going to do. The same things that the...the...Cylons...had done to him. Get inside his head, make him tell them things he didn't want to. No. He was not doing that again. Not ever. He bolted down the hall until he reached the lift and punched in the level where Dean's quarters were. He got on board with others, stayed close to the door, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating and from crying. As soon as the lift stopped, he hurried out and slipped along the walls to avoid touching people but still ran. He reached Dean's quarters, relief swelling in him. He would be safe there. Except Dean hadn't programmed in his palm ID yet or given him the code. The door wouldn't open.

He sank to the floor, pulling his knees up close, his head bowed. Dean would come home eventually. He would just wait here for his master. He had promised not to run again, but he had. Dean was going to be furious with him. At least he hadn't hurt anyone this time.

*

Security had followed Sin but per instructions had not approached him, so when Dean rounded the corner to the last hall to his quarters, he already knew that's where he would find Sin. Touching the key pad, Dean looked down. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Whatever you want. I'm yours, after all," Sam said quietly and got to his feet. He walked inside when Dean motioned him in. "I don't want them fracking around inside my head, Dean. I'm not going to let them do it. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them from doing it, even if it means putting a blaster in my mouth. No one is getting in my head like that ever again. And don't give me felgercarb about them just trying to help." He turned, his eyes almost blazing with fury. "They intend to give me drugs and mind scans and hypnosis and regression and all the things they do to prisoners of war. I didn't ask you to buy me! If you think I'm some criminal and you just brought me here to arrest me then do it and stop fucking with me!"

"I didn't buy you, Goddamnit. I would never buy anyone. You're not a fucking prisoner, you're not a slave... you're just like everybody else here, alright," Dean sliced his hand through the air, his blood shooting up to his temples. "No more, no less, just one of us. And guess what? We are trying to help you. You think you're fine? You're not. Sure you look great, you speak lots of language, know lots of shit, but you don't have your shit together, Sin. You need to get it together. You can do this. I'll help you... I mean it, Sin, I'll do what it takes, but you gotta fracking meet me half way."

"I never said I was fine!" Sam snapped. "I know I'm fracked in the head. I remember felgercarb and then it just slips away again. Sometimes I push it away because I don't want to remember those weeks or months, hell, yahrens in their hands, the sons of bitches pulling me out of cold storage whenever they thought I might be useful! Thank the Gods, I don't remember much and I sure as hell don't want to remember any of it!" Sam stared defiantly at Dean. "Fine. I'm not a prisoner. I'm not a ..." he choked. The training slammed into him and he felt the pain in his head so sharply it was near blinding. The collar wasn't discharging but the ghost of the pain that should be there hurt the same. He practically swayed on his feet and his breaths came in deep ragged gasps as his conditioning all but forced him to his knees. He bowed his head only managing to stay on his feet because he remembered Dean didn't like him on his knees.

You are a slave! You will always be a slave! You will never know anything but that collar around your throat or death when it's not. If you deny it, you'll be punished severely. Accept what you are and always give your owner proper respect. If they want you to cut off your arm, then that's what you'll damned well do. The words of his trainer was interspersed with indescribable pain issued by the collar between each sentence until he, like the others, repeated back everything the trainer said. Until he, like the others, accepted what the trainer said.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm yours. Please forgive me. Whatever you want," Sam said meekly though a part deep inside him growled in fury at his own capitulation.

"No. I’m not forgiving you for this, for being sorry," Dean said striding up to Sin and grabbing him by both arms. "But for yelling? For telling me your real feelings, that's fine, there's nothing to forgive there. That's how I like you, want you to be, Sin. Your real thoughts, your real desires, what you need. I want to hear them."

Sam looked at him, confused, the trainer's words still ringing in his head.

Dean had no idea how much Sin understood. "Do something for me. Write down everything you do remember. Password protect it. Double password protect it. But have it somewhere, so when you're ready to share... it's there. Can you do that? Please," he added much more softly.

Sam stared at Dean, his brain trying to process it all. He finally licked his lips. "If...If I do that, will you make sure they don't mindscan me and give me drugs? I'll do the group therapy feldergarb. But don't tell me I'm free then let them treat me like a prisoner of war."

"I'll do what I can, Sin. I don't run the place," he said, not wanting to lie... to lose Sin's trust. "You are free. If... if they get orders to do that, and if you haven't done anything wrong, then you have the right to refuse. Refusal would probably result in ... in dropping you off at a habitable planet." He bit his lip. "I don't want that to happen, but it is your right. You should know," he said, searching the man's handsome face, and holding his breath, afraid what his response might be.

Sam laughed bitterly and turned away. "Of course. That's the way of the galaxy isn't it? I can't even go back to Thiros because they could force me to tell them about the Galactica and the fleet and sell that information to the Cylons for a tidy profit. So instead you just drop me off on some gods-forsaken little world. Wait, no. You can't do that, because with this collar, it's likely someone will know I'm a slave and you're potentially still screwed. If you take the collar away, I'll just have a total meltdown." Sam closed his eyes and sighed resignedly. "Do what you will with me. It doesn't matter anymore. I lost all hope and faith in people yahrens ago."

He turned back around to look at Dean, his eyes cold and empty. "May I have my plant and necklace back at least? Or have I forfeited those as your slave?" He held up his hand to stop any protest from Dean. "Fine, your responsibility. How about that instead of the 'S' word."

There was a long silence between them before Dean finally spoke. "Weird. You had more trust in me when you were a slave than now. You can't have lost all faith in people. You trusted me enough to escape with me. Don't believe me? Look at my report. You have a computer account now, and a copy the report is in your account." He jerked his chin toward the desk where a paper lay. "Your sign-in information should be on there." He licked his lips. "I'll get your plant and necklace. Everything else you wanted is in the works. You'd have had your shoes if you hadn't run. Give me one of the ones you're wearing, and I'll get you a pair right now." A muscle worked in Dean's jaw. He was trying... real hard... to be patient, but he needed to get out of here before he blew his top.

"You have pretty eyes. I'm always a sucker for pretty eyes," Sam said. "I don't distrust you Dean. I just know...you said it yourself. You can't stop them. You're a grunt. A captain, but still a grunt. I haven't exactly done a lot to generate confidence in my intentions. Anyone who's familiar with slavery, they would understand, but," he shook his head, "most people won't. I know you're doing everything you can for me. Really, I do. I know you will do everything you can to keep them from mind-raping me. I don't have faith that they won't feel it's necessary to protect the fleet. I'm sure it's the smart thing to do." Sam went over to the computer and sat down, pulling off a shoe and handing it to Dean. "They're size fourteens. So...I ran away with you huh? Did I know you were a warrior?"

Pretty eyes. Despite the tension, Dean wanted to laugh. Taking the shoe, he looked for a bag to put it in and answered. "No, I couldn't tell you that. Still though, you did it for my eyes? Who knew I had so much power in my eyes.," he was muttering now. Finding a bag in the bottom drawer, he dropped the shoe inside it. He looked up. "I am trying to understand. I'm just not very... patient, but I guess you already know that."

Sam smirked. "You should know you have that sort of power in your eyes. You can stare me into coming, after all." After slowly approaching Dean, Sam hugged him tightly. "Thank you. For everything. Maybe I can clear up a few things for you, maybe that'll help you to understand." He released Dean and stepped back so he could look the warrior in the eyes.

"When I do something specifically against the training, it's like the trainer is suddenly right here in the room and I hear his words and I feel the pain of the collar, or I'm right back there being trained to be a slave. Everything else shuts down and I’m in slave mode. When you see that happen, something triggered it. I...have flashes at other times. Like maybe you tell me you like blindfolds during sex. My brain acts like a computer then. Everything I know about blindfolds linked with sex is right there for the taking. The collar reacted, accepted you as my master, it punished me, so my mind accepts it as fact that you own me. I can't not think of you as my master."

Even as he listened to Sin, Dean had to admit he missed the closeness of having Sin pressed against him. It made him feel guilty, but it was true. He forced himself to concentrate, knowing this was important for both of them.

"You keep reinforcing that you want me to be myself. I think maybe it's helping to bring some of memories back in line. The 'free,' the 'equal', that's," Sam shrugged helplessly, "forbidden. Against training. I hear it. I know what you're saying but when my mind tries to embrace it, when I try to believe it, crap goes haywire in me. And lastly, as far as the truth serum, mind scanning felgercarb..." Sam struggled with whether he should tell Dean or not. "I was tortured. For, I don't know, weeks, months. Before I ended up at Thiros. They mind-raped me. I can't...I just can't...I'm already on the razor's edge of sanity, Dean. I won't...I can't." He shuddered as he shook his head. "I'd rather die first," he said softly, "than go through that again. That was why I ran out of there."

Sam ran the fingers of his right hand through Dean's hair, trying to smooth its spikiness a bit. "I hope that helps you to understand. And if I get spooked, my mind has marked this as 'home.' If I run again, and I'm not really all there, this is where you'll most likely find me. Maybe your office. Or I might seek out Lt. Michael if I feel threatened here. You've declared him safe and so my mind accepts that and has latched onto that."

It was a lot to take in. There were a lot of inconsistencies. Sin felt like a slave, but would a slave touch their master's hair, offer comfort when none was asked for? Or was this flashes of the real Sin, between the times he was behaving as a slave should? It confused the hell out of Dean.

Dean shook his head. "I'll tell them you were tortured, what was done. But you're gonna have to figure out why that happened." He clenched his teeth at the thought of anyone hurting this man who seemed so gentle, except when he was scared. Then again... which Sin was he talking about? Was the real Sin so different? "I'll make sure there is no invasion of your mind without my knowledge. I find out about plans... you'll find out." He looked at the door, then back. "Not that they would ordinarily do anything like that without your permission."

Sam nodded. His memories were a wreck, all tangled up, and he had a pretty good guess as to why but he didn't want to tell Dean. He didn't want to tell anyone. And a part of him hoped maybe he could push it all away and forget, that none of it ever became clear enough for him to be sure. They were going to want to know though and he wasn't really sure what he was going to do or say when pushed. With a smile, he brushed his thumb over Dean's cheek. "If they believe I am a spy, it would be very foolish to show their hand and warn either of us. Just realize that if I'm in one of my panicked phases, I may accuse you of betrayal. When I come back to my senses...you'll just have to explain it to me and remind me of this conversation if I've forgotten it."

Sin had said a lot, and Dean was thinking it all over. "Yeah, you can trust Mike," he agreed. "Over time, you'll make friends, you'll find more people to trust." He put his hand on the side of Sin's face, cupping his cheek. "Slaves can be set free. They buy their way to freedom, or it's granted by a master who becomes a friend. Tell me how to free you so it doesn't hurt. I don't want you to hurt."

Smiling sadly, Sam shrugged. "I was sold with the explicit agreement I was never to be set free. It was trained into me." He grinned suddenly. "But you're stubborn. And so am I. Maybe we can stubborn our way past what they conditioned into me." He took hold of Dean's hand that was against his cheek and turned his head, kissing Dean's palm. "I'm glad I can trust Mike. He has pretty eyes too," Sam said with a mischievous smile, almost a teasing threat. "Now go. Get me my boots." He looked down and wriggled his toes on his shoeless foot and looked back up at Dean. "Foot's getting cold. I'm going to log into my account and read your report. And contemplate what I want when you get back. I did take the third option of 'my choice'."

The kiss was burning his palm, he was feeling all sorts of weird and anxious about Sin liking Mike's eyes and without thinking, responded, "he does not have pretty eyes," and then he was worrying about the look in Sin's eyes and the promise in them... a look he didn't take lightly. "I... there was no third option," he said, even as thoughts of kissing Sin had his imagination in overdrive. There was kissing and then there was kissing, and he was thinking of the latter, which was a very bad... bad thing.
Sam tilted his head, meeting Dean's gaze through his eyelashes, a suggestive smile on his lips as he stared intently at Dean. "Mike does have pretty eyes. Not as pretty as yours, but pretty. And you said you could stare me into coming, or kiss me or my choice. I chose 'my choice'." He slunk up to Dean and ran his hands along Dean's back as he pressed himself up against Dean in key locations. Whispering in his ear he said, "and my choice is to kiss you as I slowly stroke you hard," he ground up against Dean, "then work my way from your mouth to your nipples." Sam rubbed his chest against Dean's. "After I've teased them taut I'll kiss straight down to your belly button, licking and nipping, and fuck your sweet little belly button with my long hot tongue as I stroke you more. By then you'll be dripping cum which I'll lick away with a light flick of my tongue before I slide my mouth down over your cock, sucking and licking...I'll get you so hard, tease you until you're crazy with need, then I'll get what I really truly want from you. I want that wonderful big thick delicious cock sliding into me, in and out and in and out until I'm screaming your name until we both come together as one. That, my handsome captain, is what my choice is."

Sam gave Dean's ear a nip, then whispered hotly, "Now won't you please get my boots and my plant and my necklace? I'll be waiting for your return."

As if laser shocked, Dean stood stock still, his breaths panting hotly out of him. Sin was so damned graphic, he couldn't help visualize the whole scene, every fracking action Sin took. He was flushed with heat, and hard... damned hard. So hard if he touched himself once, he'd come. He'd let Sin know his weak point... his love of dirty talk, and he could see a future that would be filled with torture.

Licking his lips, he swallowed audibly. He took a step back, then another. If he said anything. If he touched Sin now, he wouldn't stop. That much he knew. He gave the unrepentant man a look that spoke volumes, both about his need and about his tactics. Still, until the moment his back hit the door and he managed to walk out, his gaze was riveted to Sin, taking in every inch of his body, and those eyes... those sinfully hot eyes.

* * *
Sam had logged into the computer and read the report. Some of it didn't seem right, and Dean had left out the details, all the details of them having sex. He recorded notes as images popped into his mind. Well, Dean said to put down everything.

Later, he almost did some searches on names, but figured his account would be scrutinized and he didn't want to give them any information like that. Though he did include what names he would have searched on in his memory diary. Some were just names. No images associated with them. Trishan. Kylie. Ian. Trevor. ...John. John didn't have an image but Sam did feel sharp emotions of betrayal and anger and guilt associated with the name. He was especially afraid to search on his own name, fearful of what he would find. He was afraid if he did, it might send him over the edge. He couldn't bring himself to search on details of the last days of the Colonies either. He didn't want to know.

The slave training made Sam scan over current news and he was surprised to find that he was noted, a man named Sin, rescued from slavery by Captain Dean of Red Squad. He almost laughed at that. Rescued maybe, but he was still a slave, at least in his own mind.

He got tired of scanning through the news after about a centar and returned to cleaning and straightening. He wasn't accustomed to being well rested and having free time. He was feeling restless and definitely feeling the desperate need to get laid. Surely Dean wouldn't be able to resist him much longer...could he?

*

Needing to cool down his libido, thanks to Sin, Dean logged a couple centars of work. He couldn't say he was overly productive because he kept hearing Sin's whispered words of what he'd do with him when he got back to his quarters. Yeah, right, he kept trying to laugh it off as Sin having had his fun with him. They both knew none of that was going to happen, so it was verbal sparring meant to get him hot and bothered. It worked too well.

Leaving Mike with his orders, Dean headed out of his office with Sin's things. He'd called ahead and ordered two pairs of boots, and when he got to the store, they confirmed the size Sin had asked for matched his own shoe. The shoe merchant started to go on and on about the quality of the shoe Dean had brought with him. Before his eyes glazed over with talk of how that type of leather was hard to find and priceless, Dean snatched up the two pairs of boots and walked out with the guy still talking.

Sin could try both pair and decide which one he liked. If neither, then Dean would insist he come to the store himself. He headed for the mess hall and restaurant district and picked up two meals for them. By now, Sin had to be hungry, and even if he wasn't, Dean was starved.

As he neared his quarters, Dean slowed down and rubbed the back of his neck. Sin wouldn't... oh by the Lords, he had to be fracking ready for it... to be hard all night long and find the will to refuse to have sex with... what had he said? Irresistible Sin. Alright, he just had to distract him, right? Make him think of things other than sex. Fortifying his willpower, he reached the door and used the thumb pad.

A moment later, the door wooshed open and he was inside. He didn't see Sin in the living room and kitchen area and started to put the packages down onto the table. "Dinner," he called out, resisting the urge to see what Sin was up to.

Hearing the door open, Sam put down the weights. They had been dropped off a few centars ago and he was glad to be doing something more physical than just cleaning. He had let himself fall into the rhythm of working out, blanking out his mind and going through the exercises he was required to do to stay in top shape for his customers. He had found some shorts of Dean's to wear and knew it was awfully bold of him to wear them, but he didn't have any workout clothes. He hadn't thought to ask for any because he was used to everything simply being provided.

Sam walked out of the bedroom, his bare chest glistening with sweat, his hair damp with it. He hadn't realized it had gotten so late, relatively speaking. The food smelled good...and smelled familiar, he found he was quite hungry and his stomach growled loudly in complaint.

"Burgers? Fried tubers?" Sam asked excitedly. Oh that sounded good. He walked up to Dean and pulled him into an embrace, kissing him thoroughly then as he stepped back. He pulled a chair out for Dean, the sat down and began emptying the bags and setting the food on the table.

Dean opened his mouth to talk, then shut it. The kiss had been unexpected. There had been no prelude, no warning, just Sin in his arms, his tongue in his mouth, easily making him respond. He'd even given a small moan before Sin released him.

Running a hand over his forehead, Dean sat across from Sin. "That counts for the kiss... you just got choice number one," he said, half smug, half relieved as he pulled his own burger over. Course... it was hard to stay smug when a man who looked like Sin sat in front of you, half naked, muscles rippling, and gave you that look. "I think I'm going to invite some people over... for a board game... anything," he said, almost desperately.

"No," Sam said. "That doesn't count. One of the choices was you kissing me. I kissed you, not the other way around," Sam answered just as smugly. He took one of the fries and dipped it in the container of sauce then sucked all the sauce off of it as he slowly pulled the fry out of his mouth, he eyes on Dean's face the whole time. He then sucked the fry into his mouth again. After a pointed look, he chewed and swallowed. "Threesome? Foursome? Okay. However many you want. Just so long as at some point you're the one fucking me and kissing me. That's still my choice you know. I want you to fuck me."
He meant it. He really meant it? Thoughts of inviting someone older, someone who might make Sin behave flew out of Dean's head in light of Sin's threats. Helping himself to a fry, he gave the man a dark look, which was promptly ignored. Instead, Sin was going all out with his outrageous suggestions.
Sam picked up the burger and sank his teeth into it. He groaned deeply and he chewed and swallowed, his eyes closed, savoring the flavor and feeling the juices run down from the corner of his mouth. "By the Lords, I forgot how fracking good burgers were."

"Cut it out," Dean snapped. There was only so much he could take of being hard every time he was in his quarters. "No, I don't mean the eating, Sin, I mean the..." he licked his lips, then his fingers, then sucked the fry in an out of his mouth and groaned. "You know you're killing me. How about a little mercy?" he asked, grabbing the burger and not having high hopes.

Sam blinked in surprise. Dean really didn't want to...he gave a curt nod. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." He lost his appetite after Dean's outburst, but ate half the burger and some more of the fries anyhow. He wrapped the leftovers and put them in the small fridge, then glanced at Dean finally and asked softly, "Is it okay if I go for a walk? By myself?"

"Yeah." Dean closed his eyes as Sin walked to the door. "I'm sorry." When Sin turned, he let out a breath. "For snapping at you. I'm not used to this. And that's how I am, I order people around all day so it comes out like that." He'd dropped his own food down. It seemed like he was going on a food and sex diet at the same fracking time.

Sam smiled at him. "That's okay, Dean. Please, finish eating. I'm still not used to eating a lot. It was really good. Thank you for bringing me dinner." Sam turned back and faced the door, taking a deep breath and making himself walk out. He wished he had gotten his shoe back. He'd taken the other one off earlier. He realized the halls were a little cold and wished now he also had on a shirt, but he was used to walking around without much on so he pretty much shrugged it off. He wandered down the halls, dragging his fingers along the metal walls, listening to the murmur of conversation and the soft lulling sound of the engines of the Galactica. He found himself outside the door of Lt. Michael, having looked up where the lieutenant was bunked earlier. He knew first lieutenants could have their own quarters, even if it was just a one room sort of place and was glad Michael wasn't bunking with the squadron.

Sam knocked. "Lieutenant? It's Sin."

Mike opened the door and stared at Sin, looking him up and down, then stepping away from the door. "Something happen to you? Where are your clothes?" he asked, trying to look calm so that Sin would stay calm even if there was a problem.

Sam looked down at himself. "I was working out. I had dinner with Dean and then...wanted to go for a walk by myself, not that I really am by myself with the security guards following me and pretending they aren't. I guess...I guess I have to get used to wearing more clothes again. I didn't really think about it." Since Mike stepped back, Sam walked in. He turned as Mike shut the door. "Dean doesn't want to have sex with me. It's been...awhile. I'm not used to going without for so long. I was wondering, I know you looked me over, would you be interested?"

"You came here to ask for... sex." It wasn't often that Mike was stunned into silence, but this was one of those occasions. He wasn't completely silent though, because he was coughing and clearing his throat. "It's sort of... direct," he said, his gaze roving over Sin. He didn't think any protocols would be violated, and obviously Captain Dean had sent the guy or allowed him to come over so...

Sam shrugged. "I didn't want to tease you if I had misread you. Dean, he got upset with me trying to get him to have sex. Since this could be...awkward...if you weren't interested, I thought I should just simply ask. And I would appreciate it if you didn't tell him I was here. He says I can make my own choices but I--" Sam huffed. "He's really hard to read and he confuses me. He wants to have sex with me, but because of this," Sam touched his collar, "he won't. I can't, by the Lords of Kobol, wait forever. I already ache. I ache to be touched, to be held, to make love to someone and I like you. And Dean trusts you." Sam moved closer to Mike and wrapped his arms around Mike's shoulders. "So would you like to experience a little Sin?"

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, I think I told you that he does not swing that way." He looked up as Sin's arms went around him. "You want sex, I'd be an idiot to say 'no'. I'm not an idiot. You're good looking, and I probably can't even imagine what a 'Sin experience' is, but I'd like to," he said, his gaze meeting Sin's. "Just... you realize we're friends? He and I, we don't hit on the same person... not unless it's an orgy or something, and he doesn't really participate much in those."

He just wanted to be clear with this man, and if the guy went for it, Mike knew he couldn't get luckier. “I mean if you’re into him.” He didn’t think Sin had a chance with Dean but screwing Dean’s friend would be a sure way to cutting off even the slightest chance in that direction.

Sam sighed, knowing Dean would potentially consider it a betrayal if Mike had sex with him. He didn't want Dean to be mad at his friend, not because of him. "He and I have had sex," Sam said softly and couldn't help but pull Mike close and press his body against the warrior's. "I don't want him mad at you. I don't...dammit." Pulling away he let his hand brush over Mike's cheek. "It's not proper for a pleasure slave to seek out sex from another unless the other has asked for permission from the owner. If you want me, ask him if you can have sex with me. Then...then he can't be mad at you if we have sex. Do you want me to wait? Do you want to call him and ask him?"

"No," Mike laughed, he couldn't help it. "No... I don't think he'd like to get calls like that. Listen, I'm sure you're free to do it with whoever you want to. He's not going to be angry with you, not unless there's something between you," he cocked his head. "If there is, I don't want to mess it up. If there isn't," he took Sin's hand and kissed his palm, "let’s do it."

Sam thought long and hard. "I...think...there is something between us but he told me to stop trying to tempt him. I can't go against his wishes. Until I am," Sam struggled to find the right words, "fixed, until I 'have my shit together' and can take off my collar and consider myself free, he expects me to abstain, at least with him." He knew he sounded as frustrated as he felt.

Looking at Mike, he ran his fingers lightly over his hair and down his neck. "I may never get 'better', Mike. I may never regain freedom. I can't expect him to abstain, especially if he doesn't typically have an interest in men, but I would be upset if he came home smelling of sex. I think I would be less upset if it was a woman. It isn't my place to speak of what my mast--what Dean chooses. I don't know if he would be upset if I slept with someone else. He did protest when I said you had pretty eyes, though." Sam grinned. "I think he might have been jealous at the thought I might chose you."

That had Mike grinning back like a fool, the thought of Dean jealous. There was friendly competition between them, though they'd never competed over a guy.

Regretfully Sam said, "I have to be certain he won't choose me to pleasure him or sell me if I displease him." He shook his head, almost to himself. "He won't sell me but you know what I mean. Leave me. I can't stand on my own yet...or maybe I don't want to. He's been so kind and generous. Until I know he wouldn't view this as a betrayal, even though it is only sex and nothing more, I...can't risk it." Giving a more frustrated sigh, he added, "Besides he would probably think you were taking advantage of me because I still consider myself a pleasure slave and he'd be angry with you. He can't get it through that thick skull of his that I want sex because I want sex. I'll ask him if he cares if I have sex with someone else. If he doesn't," Sam's heart clenched at that thought, but he smiled seductively at Mike, "I will definitely be knocking on your door. Soon. I'm sorry. I guess I teased you anyhow, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Mike agreed, taking a step back to be sure that he in fact didn't take advantage. Running his hand through his hair, he looked at the ground for a moment, then back up at Sin. "I think he'll support whatever choice you make. But if there really is something between you," and Mike wasn't so sure it wasn't one sided because he just didn't envision Dean being into men. Sure, a pleasure giver might have seduced him, but was there more to it? He didn't see it. What he saw was Dean feeling responsible for this man he'd brought out of slavery. "Then if you have an itch... better you scratch it with someone who isn't a close friend," he nodded. "But... doesn't mean we can't flirt, right? Get the ole Captain jealous."

"If you can recommend someone who isn't close to Dean but that you trust, I would be very open to suggestions." He grinned at Mike's suggestion. That would certainly help discern if Dean did or didn't want him as a lover. He didn't know if once he got his brain unscrambled--if he ever got his brain unscrambled--if he would want a permanent relationship with Dean, but he would like one now, while he was trying to get better. The psych-tech would probably say it was a bad idea, that it would only reinforce Sam's feelings of slavehood or something. Frack, maybe it would, but he didn't particularly care.

"Yes, I would like to flirt. I always like to flirt. I see why Dean likes and trusts you. I better go now or else I might end up doing something that I shouldn't." He gave Mike a quick kiss goodbye, then left, smiling and giving a small wave before he headed back to Dean's quarters.

* * *
Dean sat in front of the computer reading various reports from some of the ships which had broken off before and were returning to the fleet after completing business in another quadrant. The nature of most of that business was the purchase of necessities and energy, a constant problem for the fleet. There were many ships which were run like prison colonies, with lights out at a certain time and harsh conservation rules. Desperate times...

He needed to be apprised because there were tidbits of information about areas the fleet would be passing, and worlds that would require scouting, depending on what the fleet might want or need from that world. The problem was, he was reading the same felgercarb over and over because he kept wondering where Sin went, and whether he was alright. He hadn't said anything about his state of undress frankly because he'd thought it was a factor that would make Sin return faster. He'd been wrong.

He kept listening for security issues, and hoped that Sin wouldn't cause any. But he'd told the man that he was free, and even if it was difficult to trust him fully, Dean was going to treat him as a free man. Even if it killed him. Or he had to read this fucking thing twenty times.

When Sam walked in, he saw Dean sitting at the computer with his brow creased, but was it in annoyance? Worry? Anger? Sam wasn't sure. When Dean didn’t look up, he simply announced he was going to take a shower and dropped his briefs and shorts on the way to the bathroom.

The warm water felt good so he didn’t rush and was glad it didn’t run out before he was done. Drying off thoroughly and taking the time to dry his hair, he brushed his teeth and use the beard suppressor gel since he could see the hint of stubble. Walking naked to the bedroom, he didn't do more than glance at Dean who hadn’t moved and was still frowning at the monitor.

After he got dressed, he put the weights under his cot so neither he nor Dean would trip on them. He’d seen some bags in the dining room thought one of them might contain the boots Dean promised, and maybe his plant and necklace. Walking out of the bedroom, he saw the bags and furrowed his brow. That second bag was his bag. Yeah, he remembered that. Sort of.

Dean was aware of every action that Sin took bit tried his damnedest to appear detached, to actually be detached, but it was an uphill battle. He turned and watched him through the doorway, nodding when Sin reached for the bags and looked at him for permission.

Sitting at the table, Sam opened the bags and checked out both pairs of boots. He opened his own bag next and began to carefully empty it out, not knowing what he’d find other than his plant and necklace.

"I think you'd hidden some currency at the bottom," Dean, getting up and walking to the doorway. He searched the man's face. "What am I gonna do with you, Sin?" When the guy looked up, the hurt he saw in his eyes felt like a sucker punch to Dean's gut. He shook his head. "Everything I say, it's wrong. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take that... that light you have in your eyes, I don't want it gone, especially not because of me."

Sam wanted to walk over to Dean and kiss him but forced himself to stay seated. "You say what you feel you have to," Sam shrugged. "You ordered me not to tease you anymore, so I won't. It's hard. I need desperately to be touched, to make love to someone. I want sex. But you say 'no' so..." Sam looked down at the table and the things spread across it. His plant definitely needed water but had survived surprisingly well being wrapped up in the bag for five days was it? The leaves were black, curled in on themselves, hoarding water and protecting itself. He stroked the leaves gently and they slowly unfurled, changing from black to a mottled green and red.

"I want it with you. I want very much to have sex with you. If you won't though, if there is absolutely nothing I can do or say to convince you this has nothing to do with being your slave and everything to do with," he looked up and smirked, "being horny as hell," his smirk faded, "then may I seek satisfaction from another? I don't want to. I would much rather make love to you than have sex with another, but I am growing very needy. I had an opportunity while I was out, but...I wanted to ask you a final time, to make certain that either you do or don't want me that way. I can't...I won't...wait until the collar is gone." Sam looked at Dean, fearing the Captain’s answer would be the same as before.

"You want sex. Just... sex... from..." Dean ran a hand through his hair. Sure he'd been hard up for sex at times, what man hadn't. But he hadn't been like this, so desperate anyone would do, he had no frame of reference for this.

"You're not my sex slave," he nodded, his stomach knotting as he forced the rest of his words out, though he meant them. "You can have sex with anyone you want, Sin. You don't have to ask me for permission. It's your body, your decision, just don't... don't get hurt, okay?"

Sam felt his heart and his hopes fall. He wanted Dean to tell him he wanted him. Tell him he wanted Sam to only have him. Just one lover instead of a different one every night. One lover that he grew to know, that he didn't have to explore at the beginning of every sexual act to find the spots that gave them the most pleasure. One that he could...pounce...at any time, one that he could trust to be concerned about him, make sure he got the most pleasure, got as much pleasure as he gave.

Dean licked his lips and gripped the door frame. "If you need it that bad, need it now, I'll give you a hand job," he lifted his hand up to stop Sin from cutting in. "You don't touch me. I'm not taking anything from you, Sin. The doctors, they know what they're talking about. Hell I knew without talking to them. If I have sex with you, I'm treating you like a slave. We're calling this offer 'me taking care of you.'" Gods, he hoped to hell that was all this was.

Not touch him? Not kiss him? Not have his cock resting inside him before he began to pound into him again and again? Sam wanted a whole lot more than a hand job. That wasn't making love. That was getting him off, but Dean didn't seem to grasp the depths of his need.

"I would very much like a hand job, but I wish you would give me more. How is it any different for me to go find someone to blow and to have fuck me rather than have you do it? How is it they are not treating me like a sex slave but you would be? You care about me, even if only as a person. To the stranger that I find, I will simply be the best god-damned fuck they've ever had but nothing else. That is what a slave is. A thing to use. To you, wouldn't I be a person you care about and would be careful with? Mike said you aren't into men. I'm not asking for a relationship. I'm asking for someone I trust and that I choose, to have sex with me. But I will accept whatever you feel comfortable offering."

Dean nodded, he could see a certain logic, but it was twisted. He pushed away from the door and backed into the bedroom. "C'mere."

Chapter Text

Before Sin got up, Dean tried to explain himself better. "I get what you're saying, Sin. You're wrong, but I get it. I'll try to explain, but I think one of the docs will do a better job. You're here, living with me, in my quarters, wearing that collar, which you sometimes think makes you my slave. You were a pleasure slave. Now, if you give me pleasure, that perpetuates your role as a pleasure slave to the person whose collar you're wearing and in whose quarters you're staying. Do you see that?" He doubted he would get through, but had to try. "Same reason that it's frowned upon for a captain to have relations with anyone in his unit, there's a power difference, and that creates a possibility of abuse of power or coercion. It's the same here, only it goes double for this."

Sam rose from the table, pausing only long enough to pour a little water onto his plant. If he didn't, since it had unfurled, lack of water would damage it.

Sighing, he gave a half nod. "Mostly all I see is that my need to have someone fuck my brains out isn't something you're going to be able to give me." He gave Dean a very mild glare. "I do wish you were just a tiny bit less honorable." Walking into the bedroom, he sat next to the warrior on the bed and couldn't stop himself from running his fingers through Dean's hair.

"You take a shower every day. If suddenly you didn't get to take a shower for five or six days, and then the shower was right there, water hot and running, ready for you, you'd really want that shower. But you aren't allowed to shower, you get to wash your face off in the sink and that's it. It'll feel great, no doubt, but you're still going to look at that shower and wish you could step in there and be rinsed clean. After a couple of days of only getting to wash your face, no matter how much you want to use your shower, you will seek out another one, one that you can step into, where you can feel the water run over your body, caressing you, embracing you."

He leaned in and kissed Dean. "Don't give me that look. I choose to take that kiss. Isn't that what you want me to be? Someone who can make their own decisions?"

Dean smiled. "Yeah, that's what I want you to do. Besides, I owed you a kiss, and I keep my promises. I'm honorable that way." He put his arms around Sin, giving him a look. "I'm like shower water? Don't objectify me, I'm much more than that," he said with a smug look. "Now... where do you want that kiss? Here?" He kissed the corner of Sin's mouth, "here?" he moved down to Sin's lower lip, sucking it lightly into his mouth. "Or... here?" he asked, biting Sin's jaw lightly. He was damned if this was going to be as impersonal as Sin made it sound.

"You still owe me a 'my choice,'" Sam said stubbornly. "This kissing doesn't get you out of that. Just so you know." He tilted his head back, letting Dean kiss his jaw and on down his throat. This was more than he had thought he was going to get. He expected Dean at worst to give him a quick kiss on the lips and at best to simply stroke him a little through his pants, then pull out his hardening cock and stroke him into coming. He couldn't stop the little sounds of pleasure he made as Dean's lips touched his body again and again, sucking and nipping. "Mmmm, would you be 'taking' if I said I wanted to fuck you and you let me?"

Chuckling, Dean pulling him closer, flush against his chest. "You don't give up, do you?"

"Nope," Sam said, but a small voice in the back of his head called him a liar.

He kissed Sin's ear, rolled his tongue inside its shell, then came back to hover over his mouth. "Ask me again in a few weeks, alright?"

Pushing Sin's hair back with one hand, Dean cupped his face and started to kiss him for real. Hot, open mouthed kisses, like they'd shared at the station. He started slowly, tasting him, his tongue delving inside and exploring every corner of Sin's silky warm mouth, sliding it against his tongue, and running it over the roof of his mouth. As Sin started to chase his tongue, Dean kissed him harder, his mouth sliding back and forth, and almost unconsciously, using his body to push Sin down onto the bed.

Better. Definitely better, Sam decided. He kissed Dean back almost desperately. He wanted Dean's hands on his skin. He want to arch against them and feel them brush and twist and pinch his nipples. Pulling his own shirt up part way, he placed Dean's hand on his skin with a soft moan and moved Dean's hand up to his nipple. He still wanted Dean to fuck him and Sam had shown him only a small part of the seduction he was capable of. With Dean over him, he squirmed a little here and there, lightly, almost as if accidentally, brushing against the captain's groin. Changing the pitch of his moans, he made them sound so needy, sounding as if he might go crazy if Dean didn't give him more. Sam chased Dean's tongue but at the same time held back, as if Dean kept succeeding in giving him what he wanted. Sam continued to arch and brush and rub, running his hands caressingly in all the right places but making it all seem purely by chance. He worked hard whipping up Dean's desire, wanting Dean to be as needy to fuck him as he was to have Dean inside him.

Dean knew he might be going farther than he'd agreed, but the noises Sin was making, the need with which he was writhing under him... Dean couldn't withhold his touches, or his kisses. He kept justifying his actions. The kiss was a reward for Sin having agreed to leave his quarters to see the docs, that's all. But the kind of kissing they were doing screamed of sex... not a make-out session.

Shifting, Dean pushed his knee between Sin's legs, he was gonna give Sin the pressure Sin needed. That was the theory, anyway. Somewhere along the line, between the hot kisses, and the erotic moans, Dean started to undress Sin. His hand kept straying to Sin's nipple as it was obvious Sin liked to be touched there. What he didn't realize was how much he loved Sin's responses when he touched him right. Every time he got it right, Sin writhed, or made a noise, or kissed harder, and it was like a reward, one that Dean gradually craved more of.

Sam wriggled, subtly working to get his clothes off as Dean gave him the responses he craved. In his own way he was teaching Dean how to please him the most. Dean would almost inadvertently push Sam's shirt a little higher and out of the way and Sam would worm his shoulder down, working the shirt higher. It didn't take long to get Dean to help him get his shirt off. His pants, he worked lower so they were riding his hips, and he rolled his hips with a loud needful moan, brushing his bare skin against the sliver of skin he had managed to reveal by making Dean stretch as he helped Sam's get his shirt off. With Dean's leg now between his own, Sam knew he was getting Dean closer and closer. Dean did it to get Sam to respond, and Sam responded how Dean wanted and, while it was absolutely no act, Sam used Dean's position to rub his own thigh against Dean's hardening member, rubbing it when Dean rubbed him right and he made the sounds he knew were getting to Dean. He also knew he had to be careful. Too much and Dean would snap out of the web Sam was weaving and drawing him in to.

Groaning, Dean tried to reposition, a part of his mind telling him he was slowly losing this battle. Another part of him not caring as much as he had a short time ago. All he knew was that Sin felt good under him, moved just right, made his body burn with need, and he'd been suffering a hard on for too long. Welding his mouth once more to Sin's, he kissed him the way he needed, taking control of the kiss, moving his tongue in and out of Sin's mouth, forcing him to chase, and moaning when Sin met him kiss for kiss.

Breathing hard, Dean lifted up, hands on the mattress as he stared at Sin. Sin's hazel eyes were filled with desperation. "You're evil." That's all Dean said before he was over powered by passion and need. He started kissing his way down Sin's body, his hands sliding down Sin's sides, memorizing the plains and ridges of his body, teasing with the pads of his thumbs as he moved down his hip and got closer to Sin's stiff cock.

Sam's eyes practically rolled back in his head. Yes, he needed Dean's hands on him, caressing him like this, kissing him like this, and every time Dean did it just perfectly Sam's groan almost turned into a whimper of delight.

Dean's fingers dipped under the waistband of Sin's pants, lifting it up, while he shoved the other one inside, unerringly finding Sin's cock and squeezing. "Better now?" he asked, passion glazed eyes lifting to look at Sin's face.

Sam gasped and bucked when Dean finally touched his cock, carefully brushing more decisively over Dean's groin, giving some stroked pressure to Dean's cock. "Need more," Sam begged. "So much more," he said, his fingers running through Dean's hair. He wanted to open his pants, wanted to give Dean full access to him, but he had to let Dean stay in control, he had to make Dean want this as badly as he did. "Want to feel you against me, need to feel you against me," Sam moaned, thrusting a little into Dean's hand and again brushing the captain's groin. "Please," he begged again.

"Sin..." Letting out a hot breath, Dean pulled his hand out and quickly unfastened the front of Sin's pants. Grabbing the pants, he crawled back, peeling them off a little at a time, his gaze riveted to Sin's newly revealed flesh. Once he got them off, he moved back and gripped the shorts, tugging them down one side at a time, his breath catching at the sight of Sin's fully erect cock.

Sam watched Dean, his gaze locked on the handsome man and smiled to himself. He had Dean hot and needy, as hot as he was. Now he just had to coax Dean into freeing his own erection, and to plunge that pulsing cock into him because that, more than anything, was what he really wanted.

Heat swept through Dean, and just like that, he found himself dropping down on Sin, kissing his cock, and taking him in his mouth. This was no hand job, and he knew it... knew he could never stick to his guns. But maybe if he got Sin off fast... maybe, just maybe his good intentions wouldn't be for nothing. He sucked Sin's cock down, relaxing his throat, letting him bottom out deep inside him. Tightening his lips, he pulled up, off his cock, with a wet popping sound. He loved how Sin tasted and felt in his mouth, loved how he was lifting his hips now, demanding more. Closing one hand around the base of Sin's cock, he went down on him again, hollowing his cheeks and moving up and down Sin's length. He twisted his wrist and slid his hand up and down, in rhythm with his mouth, moaning around Sin's cock, knowing how the vibrations would feel to Sin.

Sam did not really expect Dean to swallow him down and it took all his control not to buck into the man's mouth in surprise. The moan that escaped him was obscene and sent a shudder throughout his body. When Dean pulled off, Sam thrust up, seeking that hot warm mouth that had encased him a split-micron before. He felt Dean's hand and then thankfully his cock was buried in Dean's mouth again. The way Dean moaned sent waves of pleasure through Sam and he echoed back with his own moans.

"Gods," Sam managed arching and thrusting with each slide of Dean's mouth and hand. He could keep himself from coming, he had been taught that as part of some of his first lessons. The way Dean worked him was masterful, magical, and he did not want Dean to stop anytime soon. He wanted to be brought to the edge time and time again. He spread his legs further apart, as if beckoning the man to explore further and touch him deeper. He ran the bottom of his feet up and down Dean's sides as he tugged lightly at Dean's hair.

It wasn't at all hard to give Dean the sounds he knew would set Dean further aflame. "More. Take me, take me all the way," Sam moaned.

The absolute need in Sin's voice did things to Dean, made him feel things he didn't even know he had the capacity to feel. His entire body clenched with need, almost as desperate as Sin's. And each time he tried to rein in his reaction, his needs, Sin would easily fan the flames again with just the slide of his foot along Dean's leg, or his knee pressing into Dean's ass. The way he tugged on him, begged him, it was impossible not to want to give the man what he needed.

Groaning, Dean sat up and pulled his shirt off. Eyes blazing, reflecting the heat in Sin's eyes, he reached down and undid his own trousers, shoving them down impatiently together with his shorts. The way Sin's skin flushed, not with embarrassment but with heat, had Dean holding his breath again, imagining fucking him... the very thing he'd promised not to do.

For all his training, it was all Sam could do not to come at seeing his handsome captain naked before him, his cock firm and erect and leaking cum and the look on Dean's face, it sent a wave through him like he had rarely felt. He wanted Dean so badly he would do anything for this man, he only needed ask...except give him up. That he wasn't sure he could do. Fuck that Dean owned him. That didn't matter. This had nothing to do with the collar around his throat, nothing to do with his training. He wanted Dean.

There was a long moment of hesitation, and then Dean was kicking his pants the rest of the way off. "Lube?" he demanded, then seeing Sin point with his chin, Dean went to Sin's bag near the cot. Less than a centon later, he was on the bed between Sin's legs, working the lube past his hole. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths, his cock so damned heavy and hard he was struggling to keep from taking Sin without preparing him. His gaze flicked to Sin's face... big mistake, because now he was watching that pink tongue slide slowly over his lips and thinking of all the pleasure it could give. "You're not making this easy on me, are you?" he groaned, lubing his own cock, and then stroking it a few times.

Sam couldn't help but tease Dean using every tool in his arsenal. He wanted Dean to remember this, to need this again. This would sate Sam's physical need, at least for a few days, but he knew it was going to be even harder to keep his hands off this beautiful man who was getting ready to drive home inside him. Feeling Dean's fingers slide into him, pushing the lube deeply inside him had Sam pushing back and clenching, so fracking ready for Dean to be in him. He watched hungrily as Dean lubed his own cock.

"You don't like easy," Sam said and finally reached up to stroke his own cock, knowing it would give Dean that extra nudge.

"You're impossible," Dean answered, pushing Sin's hand away and holding their cocks together for three strokes. It was all he could take before he was aligning his cock to Sam's entrance. He could fuck Sin's brains out harder from behind, but he wanted him like this, wanted to see him. His tip slid over Sin's puckered hole, hot and slick with lube. On his knees, Dean gripped Sin's thighs and pulled him up closer, pushing inside him just a little, groaning. Almost wild-eyed, he demanded, "Tell me you want this, that I'm not your master. Tell me," he pushed a little more, biting his lip as need coursed through him. "Say it."

Dean wanted to talk? Now? Sam groaned, wanting Dean inside him. He had been trained to answer an order or all Dean would have gotten was unintelligible sound.

"I want this more than anything. Whether you were my master or not, it wouldn't change my desire. I need this from you because of you and no other reason. I could have had another, but I came back to you because I hoped," Sam stared at Dean and knew that he was beginning to fall for this man he hardly knew, this practical stranger. And he didn't think it had a damned thing to do with training. "...that you would need me too," he whispered. So much more he wanted to say, to explain but to have Dean at his hole, right there and not be all the way in him was like torture. "By the Sunstorm," Sam cursed. "Talk later, take me now!" It was no slave asking, it was Sam demanding, needing Dean like he needed to breathe.

At Sin's demand, Dean's fingers tightened on his thighs and he thrust his hips hard, a smooth clean motion that had him buried to the hilt inside Sin. A deep sound of pleasure broke from him as Sin's muscles clenched around him, squeezing his pulsing cock. "For the love of..." he licked his lips, and started to move his hips, pulling his cock part way out of Sin, then pushing all the way in. His body, every cell in his body screamed for him to take Sin, take him hard, but he tortured both of them with his slow and steady strokes, deliberately dragging his cock over Sin's prostrate with each thrust.

When Dean filled him, he let out with a cry of relief and ecstasy. What he needed. Yes, by the Lords of Kobol, this was what he desperately needed. A small part of him needed the reassurance that his master wasn't going to kill him, that he was pleasing to his master, but that was a small part. Sam, Sin, whoever he was needed this touch, this love to reassure him he wasn't alone, wasn't abandoned, that he had not caused the entire loss of the rim colonies and the core Twelve Colonies, because this was a human, a warrior no less, that was making love to him now. It was Dean, the one who had coaxed him to run away with him. The one who he had made love with on Thiros. It was Dean that slid in and out of him, giving him pleasure, giving him everything he was so desperate for, all but killing them both with his paced strokes.

Sam pulled Dean down to him, captured his mouth, and pushed his tongue inside demandingly. He wrapped his legs around Dean but let the other man set the pace because he wanted it drawn out. He arched and groaned and writhed under Dean, rubbing his hard cock against the solid planes of the man's abs and he let himself forget everything. He hung on only to this moment, to the fire that seared his nerves and made his blood boil. His hands were all over Dean, touching, caressing, and digging his fingernails into the man’s back. He couldn't get enough of him. He wanted everything. He clenched and kissed and gave Dean absolutely everything he had inside himself to give.

As Dean kissed him back, as he thrust deep inside this man who'd been alone, neglected, enslaved, made to forget himself, Dean tried to hang on to enough of his control to make love to Sin. Not to use him, to be different. Yeah, he knew the best of all possible worlds would have been not to touch him in the first place, but now that he had, and now that he could not pull back, he wanted this to be special somehow. Maybe he was justifying this due to his own selfish needs, he wasn't sure, but it was pointless thinking about it.

His hands roamed over Sin's body, mapping it out, memorizing, his mouth moving back and forth, accepting Sin's tongue, tangling and playing with it. He strained to keep moving at a slow steady pace, enjoying being inside Sin, groaning each time his lover squeezed his muscles around him, knowing it was for Dean's pleasure, and returning the favor by allowing Sin to hear the proof of that pleasure. Each time he tried to pull back, to get on his knees again, Sin clung to him too hard, so Dean gave up. Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth over Sin's flesh, biting his jaw line lightly, then moving to his throat. As Sin moaned, the vibration had Dean's mouth burning and aching. He lingered over Sin's Adams apple, sucking on it as he slid one hand under Sin's ass and raised him up to meet his thrusts.

Everything Dean did to him was absolute pleasure. The way Dean was loving him back--not just having sex with him but actually loving him drove his growing love for the man that much deeper. He didn't know if it was 'love,' the romantic type of stay together forever love, but love of the man, of his soul, that, this most definitely was. For once the cold feeling of aloneness that sat everlasting in his heart melted away. He didn't know if it would stay away and he didn't care. For this moment in time he was one with someone else. They moved together like they had known each other, made love to each other, for yahrens. The man's sweet kisses, the brush of his teeth on his skin, it brought out new moans and desires.

"Mark me, make me yours, even if only for tonight," Sam crooned. "Let me remember this moment, this time, when I wake up in the morning. Let me see proof you are real and not some desperate fantasy of a broken soul."

Dean gave a smug smile and then kissed Sin lightly on his lips. "You don't think your lips will be swollen?" he asked, teasing him. It had been a long time since he'd felt the need to suck a bruise into anyone's skin, but now that Sin put the thought in his head...

"Not good enough," Sam panted out.

"You're too beautiful to mark," he whispered, nevertheless deciding to give Sin what he wanted. Using his lips, he pinched the sensitive skin of his throat, released and pinched again, as he worked his way down. There was no way he was leaving a mark where it would be visible to all, but he knew where Sin might enjoy wearing one, though it might be a little more painful.

First he sucked on Sin's left nipple, sucking on it and lathing at it as they fucked each other, moving a little faster now. Knowing this was one of Sin's most erogenous zones, he'd always tried to pay a lot of attention to it. Teasing Sin's tightening nipple with his tongue, he moved across his chest and sucked on Sin's other flat male nipple. He loved Sin's reactions, they had him rocking harder against his lover. Moving an inch above Sin's nipple, he sucked a mouthful of tight flesh inside, thrusting at the same time to distract Sin from the pain, though he didn't let go of his flesh and kept sucking, knowing he'd leave a dark bruise by the time he was done.

When Dean began sucking on his nipples, Sam was practically throwing his head back and forth as the moans poured from him. He didn't want this to end, he never wanted it to end even though he was rapidly reaching the point that the pleasure was nearing pain. As Dean began to pick up the pace, he made sounds of approval and felt the sharp bite above his nipple. A small cry escaped him as the pleasure rippled through him.

"Harder," Sam whispered, not caring if Dean thought he meant the biting or the thrusting, because he wanted both to be harder. He began thrusting back more sharply, tightening his muscles and lifting himself, forcing Dean's cock in as deeply as he could possibly take it, clenching as Dean pulled back, milking Dean's cock, drawing him closer to coming. He simply couldn't remember the last time having sex, making love, had felt this good, this pure. It was almost as if something inside him broke free, a chain that had bound him did so no longer. Nothing felt different, though no new thoughts came to his mind because at the moment the only thing he could honestly think or feel was Dean. He let himself go in that moment and began fucking Dean back with pure abandon. No training controlling him, no educated skills leading him. Just Sam wanting to fuck and be fucked.

Almost on command, Dean bit down, then sucked harder, his hips moving faster, pistoning him deep inside Sin. Licking the spot he'd marked as his, Dean lifted his head and half raised himself up, using his knee to gain purchase. "Look at me," he demanded, eyes locking with Sin's as he fucked harder, shoving Sin's body up the mattress one inch at a time. He gripped Sin's hips, trying to hold him in place, tilting his head back and fighting the need to close his eyes. He wanted... needed to see Sin come apart, and he sensed that the man was being fully honest with him, right here, right now... that this was about this moment and not about anything else. "Fuck... Sin... close," he told him, his breaths panting out through parted lips.

"Yes," Sam whispered back, his gaze locked with that of his lover, hiding nothing as the pleasure, the desire, the love and need shone brightly in his dilated eyes.

Dean arched, back stiffening as his balls drew up tight against his body. He didn't move for the space of a heartbeat, then dropped down to give Sin one hard kiss on the mouth before fucking into him hard and fast, with almost brutal force as he chased his release. He made sure he was rubbing against Sin's cock trapped between their bodies, made sure he was fucking him just right to hit his prostate. "Now... now Sin," he ground out, coming deep inside him as waves of pleasure took him over the edge.

As soon as he felt Dean's release, Sam couldn't hold back. Even a command to hold it would have been useless. He was too far gone, too far away from being a pleasure slave and too close to simply being a man. Sam came harder and longer than he could ever remember as wave after wave crashed through him. Maybe it was because he had been a pleasure slave for so long and always had to be ready to perform again at a moment's notice and this time he knew he didn't have to. He screamed Dean's name and rode out the waves until both of their cocks stopped pulsing, until they both finally softened.

He kissed Dean with everything in him then sighed happily, smiling almost dazedly as his eyes drifted closed and he whispered, "Senseless..."

Somewhere along the line, Dean had pushed his hand between them and stroked Sin to completion. His hand was coated with Sin's cum, as was his stomach, proof of the intensity of the experience. "Senseless? Hmmm?" He searched Sin's face, then smiled. "I think so." Slanting his mouth over Sin's, he kissed him, bringing one hand up to cup his face. "Know what I love? When someone else wins... but really, I win." It might not make sense to Sin, but it made perfect sense to Dean. He'd slipped up but the reward had been great.

***

Sam slept soundly for the next few centars, even through Dean cleaning both of them up. Sometime during the night he awoke to find himself alone and he would have been very confused if not for hearing Dean's soft snores. Drowsily he staggered from Dean's bed to the cot where Dean had apparently gone to sleep. He crawled in behind Dean and spooned himself up against the man, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist and nestled under the covers.

*

Sam woke before Dean and laid there with him, breathing in his scent, savoring the feel of Dean's body against his own. He felt so vulnerable and unsure of himself, but so long as Dean was looking after him, he thought he could eventually get past that and find himself again. He didn't want to find 'Sam.' He wanted to simply find himself and was content to only be Sin. Well...almost content. He did miss...flying. He wondered if he could sneak into the sim room just once, slip into a g-suit, and climb into a cockpit and just fly. It was close enough to real and at least in the sim room he wouldn't have to worry about any real dangers. He was a little taller than Dean, but he could probably wear Dean's g-suit...

He shook his head to himself. What was he talking about? He had no right to even think he deserved such a thing ever again. He sighed softly to himself. After brushing his lips over the back of Dean's neck, he carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake the warrior. He went to the bathroom and took care of pissing his brains out then looked at himself in the mirror. He saw the big beautiful bruise on his chest and grinned almost foolishly, touching the tender dark splotch.

Leaving the bathroom, he felt Dean's eyes on his naked body and could just see their shine in the dim light. "Sorry. Tried not to wake you when I got up. You want me to order breakfast, or do you want to go back to sleep for a while?"

Dean had a suspicion that he hadn't been in the cot alone. He wasn't a hundred percent certain that he'd had company, so he didn't say anything about it. Maybe it had been wishful thinking, of the worst sort of course. "Mmm it's early?" His gaze flew to the chronometer and then back to Sam. Yawning, his gaze never left Sam. "I'm a little achy all over, you responsible for that?" he asked, his voice lilting as he teased.

"Who, me?" Sam said innocently. "Nope. It's not my fault you haven't been exercising all those muscles properly. Be happy to help you remedy that though. And give you a massage in between times. It simply tells you that you need to work out more." Sam gave a nod, knowing Dean should be able to see it in the dim light. "It's a little early, yeah. So, sleep, massage, or breakfast? Or you know, another workout identical to the one that got you sore That'll help work the soreness out of those muscles you know."

"You're laughing at me, yes you are," he nodded and chuckled. "Breakfast. Um... with clothes on," he added, knowing Sin would push the limits and get whatever he could. "A big breakfast, I need to make up for all the energy I expended." He gave the verbal command for the lights to slowly brighten, then focused on the bruise he'd left on Sin's chest and winced. "You know, that's going to be hard to explain at a physical checkup. I should have chosen a better spot," he said stretching.

"Me? No, not laughing. Not a bit. Just pointing out I'd be happy to be your personal trainer to get those sore muscles into shape. I'd recommend daily workouts. Maybe even twice a day. And clothes are over-rated. Well, unless you're cold." Sam walked over and flipped back the blanket. "Nope you don't look cold," he said, looking blatantly at Dean's cock. He turned then, a smirk on his face at seeing the startled look on the captain's face. That was priceless. "There are worse places to put the hickey that would have been even harder to explain, you know. I think it's just fine."

He went to the closet and pulled out clothes for Dean which he dropped on the end of the bed for him, then got dressed himself. "I need more clothes. Maybe a couple shirts and another pair of pants? I'll get the coffee started while you order breakfast. I'd like a small stack of pancakes and a couple pieces of bacon. And juice. I like juice. I don't care what kind so long as it's not a bitter juice. Do I have any doctor appointments today? And when can you take me to the agro ship to see trees?"

"Give a guy a little sex, and he gets all demanding. I like it," Dean grinned, swinging his legs off the bed, and taking the clothes Sin had selected for him. He was glad his decision to have sex hadn't, at least overtly, hurt Sin. If anything, the guy seemed more confident and less dependent. He was even bossing Dean around, which slave or no, Dean wasn't used to. "I believe you have more appointments," he nodded. "There'll be fewer once you get into some sort of routine and all the various medical specialties have taken a look."

"I'm not demanding. You wanted me to be more independent. I choose to make coffee instead of trying to figure out what you want for breakfast," Sam said with a shrug and half a smile. "I know what I want and I am used to ordering stuff for myself. Besides, if something is rationed, you can tell me and I can order something else. Though I really want pancakes." He brightened. "With berries in them if that's possible." As he got the coffee going he made something of a face. "Hate doctors. Be glad when they're all convinced I'm semi-sane and not a danger to the fleet and in decent health."

Dean pulled his pants on, then stood up to seal the front of his uniform. "You walked around alone yesterday, do you think if I dropped you at the shops you could handle it? I'm not really one for... you know... shopping."

Sam turned and looked at Dean and chewed on his lip. "I'm comfortable in bedrooms and private quarters. Yesterday I knew right where I was headed and it was to another's private quarters. It would be easy for someone to tell me 'no' and me to obey. I know I won't be as...strong...out there." Then he give a minor scowl. "And what makes you think I'm into shopping? It'll take me all of ten centons to pick out two shirts and try them on and less to pick out a pair of pants. I do not 'gush' over clothes. Give me access to the library computers and then yeah, you're stuck with me gushing for centars. We can go shopping between appointments or whatever. I won't take long, trust me. So long as you can keep sales people from tying me up by wanting to show me everything."

Someone's quarters? Dean's eyes widened. Mike? Unless Sin had gone off to see one of the docs, but he doubted it. He was uncertain how to feel about that when Sin seemed genuinely miffed, which greatly amused Dean who couldn't hide the smirk. "Where did I get the idea you might like shopping, gee, I don't know... your super soft shoes and handy role playing clothes, including ear fur? Plus... you're twenty percent girl, don't even deny it," he raised a hand to stop the arguments.

Padding over, he shoulder bumped Sin who'd been standing in the bedroom doorway, and went into the dining room and kitchen area to put in their breakfast orders. As he called it in, his eyes remained on his 'roommate' and he shook his head. He was not one to be very chipper in the morning, but here he was, practically whistling when he was put on hold for a moment.

"The clothes were supplied to me!" Sam protested, not willing to let it drop. "And I'm not one-fifth girl!" he sputtered. He narrowed his eyes. Walking over to Dean, he grabbed hold of him, laid him back and laid a scorching hot kiss on him. He kept total control of the kiss, leaning Dean back further, pressing his groin into Dean's, until he finally let Dean go, literally dropping him into the chair. He gave the breathless man a smug look. "No, I think that one-fifth must be in you because you just melted like butter and you can't deny it."

Sam grinned and turned away, headed to the coffee machine to get the coffee going.

"Bitch!" Dean glared at him and let out a breath. "No... not you, thanks that's all we want," he said, getting up again. He flicked the comm button off after his order was confirmed and touched his burning lips as he looked over at Sin. "You know, you can't go around kissing me every micron, especially in retaliation. I mean, then I'd have to do something about it, and we'd never leave."

And I am oh so anxious to go see the doctor, Sam thought. "I was merely proving who had more girl in him, you or me." He turned and leaned against the counter. He laid his fingers on his chest and gazed questioningly at Dean then shook his head with a look on his face that said it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Then he pointed at Dean and nodded vigorously. "Hmmm, Deana....maybe I should call you that," Sam mused.

"Are you mocking my grandma?" He chuckled. "Just remember which of us had a dress on and looked convincing." Yeah, he didn't need to say more.

"Dress?" Sam asked curiously. He realized when he had gone through his things he had found a dress. "I wore a...dress?" He pressed his lips together. "You made me wear a dress? You just have all sorts of kinks. Furry ears, men in drag. What other kinks haven't you told me about?" He snapped his fingers and strode into the bedroom. Pulling out the bar, he fastened it in the door, activating the magnetic locks. He grabbed hold of the bar and slipped his legs over it so he was held in place by his knees. He let his shirt fall off of him. "That's right. You like it upside down." He gave a long exaggerated yawn, watching Dean the whole time.

"I what... Aww...." Dean cursed and dragged his gaze away, putting his face in his hands. "Torture Dean... that's like your new hobby, isn't it? You've got too much time on your hands." He tried to close his mind to the images of how they'd fucked with Sin doing a hand stand, but he could hear Sin's movements as he curled up toward his feet and back down. "Hitting a guy where it hurts, that's a very female thing to do," he muttered, putting his hands down and participating in his own torture, watching the way Sin's abs tightened each time he lowered or raised his body.

"And burying your face in your hands is a very girlie thing to do," Sam pointed out as he did another curl. He really hoped he could gain enough confidence to actually go to a gym, though he had to admit, it was much more fun to watch Dean squirm. "Tortured Dean. Sounds like an exotic dish. Why don't you come closer so I can see if I've let you marinade long enough." He eyed Dean's crotch as he uncurled again.

"Because if I did that, you'd give me a reason to have to change and I just got dressed." Oh yeah, he hadn't known he had a kink for 'upside down' but Sin was teaching it to him. Right now, he wished he was standing with his hands against the wall on either side of the door frame with that beautiful, talented mouth wrapped around his cock. He wet his lips. "You're killing me..."

"Why would you have to change? You think I wouldn't catch every last drop of jus a la Dean? Hah. You insult me." He looked at Dean a bit more seriously. "You know, I think it's pretty fracking nuts that you are so reluctant to bed me, or fuck my mouth, or whatever. I like giving pleasure. Yeah, I'm a little...unstable...out there. But don't you think that as I gain confidence with you, I'll do better out there? Then worry about trying to break the rest of my training. I'm doing better aren't I? I just need to get my feet under me." He grinned. "Okay, in this position it might be my hands. Breakfast will be here soon. Sure you don't want to sample a little morning Sin before it gets here?"

"I think we're going to have to talk to those docs, ask..." he ran his hand though his hair. "I think you are better today, but I don't want to fuck you up, and I'm not qualified to make this type of decision. People have told me I think with my dick," he gave a thick chuckle, still eyeing Sin, "but I can't afford to now. I care about you... what happens to you, too much." He put the truth out there, and hoped Sin would see reason, though another part of him... the apparently masochistic part... enjoyed the torture.

"We both know what they'll say." Sam mimicked the voice of one of the doctors from the day before with a fair degree of accuracy. "Sin thinks he's a slave. Any reinforcement of that will only contribute to reducing the speed with which he recovers." Sam snorted. "You are blowing any reinforcement out of the water by making me choose things. That's...not what a slave is supposed to do. Or we're supposed to choose things we think will make our masters happy." Sam did a few more curls then dropped down to his feet and picked up his shirt, draping it on the back of a chair. "You told me last night to stop tempting you." Sam gave Dean a crooked smile. "I don't think I'm doing a real good job of following that order. And I haven't freaked now for how many centars? When I feel secure, I can be very rebellious." He grimaced. "Though they beat that streak out of me and I learned to accept the moment." Sam retrieved their coffee and handed Dean his cup while he settled himself at the table and took a sip from his own. A part of him told him it was wrong to be sitting while his master was standing, but he fought that uneasy feeling down.

He hoped breakfast would be here soon. He was hungry. "Right now, the 'moment' is that I feel comfortable and I don't feel threatened or skittish. Though I do wish you'd sit down because it's very hard for me to sit here with you standing. I'm doing it, but it's hard.

Dean quietly sat down and listened as Sin talked.

"I feel like I can tell you 'no' without repercussions," Sam continued. "If you prove me wrong, then I'll panic and fall back on my training and you'll have to deal with me being all submissive again. Although when I kind of freaked yesterday, I was a little surprised at myself that I had the strength to walk out that door alone, especially knowing I'd displeased you."

Sam studied the surface of his coffee for a moment before looking back at Dean. "I was pretty fucked up before I ever became a slave. They just took my broken mind and warped it even more. I don't know that I'll ever feel comfortable and not panic without the collar. I don't know that I'll ever feel comfortable not being owned. I think...with you helping...I might be able to at least get real close to it. But you're a great lover, and most importantly, I trust you. I'm making love to you, pleasuring you, because I want to. I can't promise some of that isn't from you--from me feeling like you own me. But if it is, it's only a part of it. I would not be trying to get you hot and bothered," he chuckled, "torturing you, if I didn't want to have sex with you. I'd be avoiding eye contact, I'd be avoiding physical contact, and I'd keep as much distance between us as possible. I would force myself to try periodically, to make sure you were happy with me, and weren't going to punish me, but I would not be acting like I am."

All of that rang true. Dean knew Sin wasn't pretending to enjoy their love making. He knew it had taken a lot for him to practically demand sex. Sure, Dean was the one who'd been weak and had gone all the way, but Sin's need and enjoyment were just as real as his own. And yet, it didn't mean it was what was best for Sin.

Sam grew silent for a moment and asked softly, "In what way do you care about me? Is there...Is there more than you just feeling responsible for me because you bought--because I ran away with you?"

Dean raised a brow and cocked his head. "What difference does it make? We're friends, I care, and believe me... even if I have a long list of acquaintances, you're on a short list of friends. It also means I might be a pain in your ass, no... not that way, but in the not giving up on you and in pushing you way. It's how I'm hardwired, so you're gonna have to deal with it. So... end of chick moment?"

Sam smiled a little. "I'm insecure so, end of chick moment, for the moment. But I have no doubt there are more chick moments in your future. You know I find it ironic that you hardly know me yet classify me as a friend. And that the doctors are going to want to do...things...to make sure I'm not an enemy of the fleet," he shuddered at the thought, "but you already have confidence I'm no danger. I wish you could convince them of your faith in me." Sam sighed.

"I have a gut feeling, and I'm usually right about things like this," he shrugged. "But they gotta do what they gotta do, we've been betrayed before and no one saw it coming, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "I know."

The ringer sounded announcing that their breakfast had arrived. Dean gave the command for the door to open and the waiters set the trays on the table. As a captain, he was allotted a certain number of in room service meals, but now that he had Sin as his roommate, the use limitation was uncapped for medical reasons. Once they were left alone again, Dean opened up the meals and pushed Sin's in front of him. Ordinarily, he'd let Sin or anyone else get their own meal, but what Sin said about having trouble sitting while Dean stood, gave him an idea. He probably had the same trouble any time Dean was doing the 'serving,' but it was something in his conditioning that would have to be reversed, probably by his getting used to it.

Sam let Dean give him his meal, easily arguing to himself that Dean was allowing him to have food, but he couldn't bring himself to start eating until Dean had. Once Dean started, he dug right in. The pancakes were really good and he almost wished he had ordered a larger stack, but he knew he would be full by the time he finished everything off. He practically guzzled the juice. Juice was one of his weaknesses.

Dean drizzled some Salustrian honey over his pancakes. Two bites later, he looked up. "My dad's holding a poker game tonight. He's on another ship. Do you want to go?" He licked the syrup off his lips, enjoying its sweet flavor, trying hard not to compare it to the sweet oil Sin had coated himself with on the station.

Pursing his lips, Sam considered the offer. "You realize of course that if there is gambling going on, I'm so accustomed to the pot including me as part of the prize, that I may have...issues. But I think I'd like to try. Just...keep an eye on me. If I get a little...off, just keep me at your side and tell me to keep my hands off you and everyone else. I can't tell you how many blow jobs I've given while customers played cards. I'd like to try to play. I have some cubits. But don't let me bet any of my services. You may have to pull rank, as it were. You okay with that? You understand you may have to act like my owner to keep me in line?"

"My DAD will be there, did you hear that?" He gave Sin a look. "You are not to offer HIM a blow job, and that IS and order." Just the thought of how that might end had Dean re-thinking.

"Oh, I dunno. If he's as good looking as you, and has twice the experience...." Sam said mischievously.

"Just... eww." Dean drank half his coffee before he could shake that image out of his head. "Not kinky that way," he muttered, unsure how serious Sin was being. "Fine, you promise to try not to need any orders, and I'll promise to give them to you if you act... you know.

Sam laughed at the look on Dean's face. "Oh to have a holo-camera. No blow jobs to dads. Got it. I'll try to not be a pleasure slave but a gambler. Uhm, how high are the stakes? I only have about sixty cubits and...well it's all the money I've got and no way to earn more...unless, you know, I offer services to people."

"Ugh... you did it again. I'm going to have to acid wash my mind. And you find it amusing," he nodded, half chuckling. It was very non-slave-like of Sin to do that. "I guess I forgot to tell you, you have a stipend coming to you. It will be paid until after you're better, to give you time to find paying work." He licked his lips. "There is a ... The Rising Star is a ship in the fleet, very much like Thiros, only with paid workers. If that's what you choose." Feeling a muscle throb in his jaw, Dean took another bite of his breakfast.

Sam grinned at Dean's comment about the acid wash. He toyed with teasing Dean more but then Dean's next words caught his attention. "A stipend? Really? That's good." Sam shook his head at Dean's suggestion. "I would rather not...I would rather see what other options there might be for me. I don't think returning to working on a resort ship is really the best thing for me. I could be a socialator, but I don't...well, until I 'get my shit together' I don't think I can make an intelligent decision about work. I would too easily fall into the trap of being a pleasure slave rather than a socialator. At least right now." He gave a soft huff of laughter. "Socialator. That certainly wasn't on my list of things I wanted to be when I grew up."

Dean got up and gave Sin a bear hug, then kissed him on the top of his head, lingering only for a micron. "Good answer." Pulling away, he walked into the bedroom then returned with his socks and boots. Sitting down again, he started putting them on. "How long do you want to be on the agro ship? I could get you there, find a quiet lonely plot and leave you for a centar or a couple centars if you'd like."

Sam beamed. Dean didn't want him to go to the Rising Star, that made him happy. "The agro ship? Really? Now?" he asked excitedly. "As long as possible. We could buy time in the garden and I did that when I could. But when are my appointments?"

"Like yesterday, in the afternoon. Why don't you get a shirt on, so you don't give some farmer a hard on... a distraction could be dangerous for them," he grinned, knowing if there was one thing Sin liked, it was a compliment. He just wasn't used to giving them to men, but he could learn.

Sam quickly retrieved his shirt and put on his socks and shoes. He was practically bouncing. Trees! Flowers! Dirt! He wondered if they had a running track there. That would be better than mushies. "I'm ready!" he proclaimed grinning from ear to ear.

Seeing joy reflected in Sin's face and actions was a treat, one that had Dean already trying to think of other things that might make the man happy. He'd been warned against getting too involved, but he feared it was too late for that. Going to the small fridge, he pulled out a container of water, and turning, threw it at Sin. "Good reflexes," he said to the easy catch. "Guess I should'a expected that."

"Yeah. Reflexes are very important in my line of work," Sam said and tucked the water in a small backpack that he had put a few things down in.

As they headed out to get to the shuttle dock, he noticed Sin was walking more easily... wasn't pressed to the wall this time. He tried to keep a conversation going, and finally asked, "What did you do before. You know, on your homeworld?" He turned and looked at Sin.

Sam didn't really care there were other people around. He was too excited at where they were headed to care about much of anything...until Dean asked what he did. He mis-stepped and almost locked up at the question. "N--nothing exciting," Sam mumbled hoping Dean would just drop it and not ruin the mood he was now struggling to hang on to. He took a deep breath. "New name. New person. Don't want to think about it," Sam finally added.

"Most things we think are awful... they're not as bad once we get them out. My two cubits on it," Dean said, but didn't press the matter as he started to walk again. The doctors would press, and there would be background checks and such, though old records were spotty. There was no need for him to force the issue.

"Everyone else got a fresh start if they wanted it, didn't they?" Sam asked. "I'd just like that same chance. I've got anything but hate for the Cylons. I know the fleet has to be worried about betrayal, but I'd be willing to be locked up in a couple rooms, given access to a computer with books, and participate in group therapy or something, so long as we could just let my past stay in the past. I'd stay a slave where there wouldn't be risk of betrayal, if...if they'd just let me be." He knew it was a pointless wish, but wished it all the same.

Dean had taken the long route on purpose, so Sin could see the more city-like areas of the ship, and to maybe get him used to seeing other people around in larger crowds. They were passing some stores, mostly featuring women's clothing in the windows. "Come on, cupcake, you can drool over the dresses later," he said, nudging him with his elbow and grinning as he turned the corner to get to the lift.

Sam rolled his eyes and gave the warrior a shove. "I still say you're the one who put me in drag and it's your kink not mine." With something of an evil smile he sidled up next to Dean and slipped his arm through the crook of Dean's elbow. He kept his voice at a conversational level but any passerby could hear and added, "Of course, if you like me better in drag..."

Clearing his throat, Dean threw him a dark look and pulled away. "I guess you only read the parts of my report that you liked." He was pretty sure he'd indicted that Sin had helped in their escape by coming up with the disguises. "That or you enjoy drag yourself. Me... I like things simple. Except for the upside down," he added quickly, right when they walked into the lift full of people, which he hoped would end the subject.

"You just wouldn't admit it if it had been your idea," Sam tossed back at him. He broke into chuckles at the upside down comment and gave serious thought to making a comment about Dean not liking it this morning or else he would have pursued it, but Dean was taking him to the agro ship and he really didn't want to piss Dean off. He did, after all, want to go, and if he embarrassed Dean too much, Dean might renege on his promise. He had certainly come to expect that no one kept their word... not even warriors. Yeah. Especially not warriors, he thought darkly to himself.

When the lift arrived at the launch bay level, they both got off. "So how long do I get to stay there?" Sam asked.

"A couple centars, maybe two and a half? You have stuff to read?" Dean couldn't imagine anything more boring but he knew that it might be because he had the occasional trip to planets. Many people liked to visit agro ships because it gave them the sense of being outside. A few centons later, they entered the launch bay. "That's our ride," he said, nodding at a rather beat up transport. "There's a bet going on how many more trips it can make before it tanks."

Grinning, Dean picked up his pace then climbed up the stairs into the shuttle.

"Why would I want to read while there?" Sam said. "I'm going to enjoy every micron that I'm there walking around." He looked at the ship with something like a scowl. "Yeah, it looks like something out of a salvage yard," Sam agreed. "I knew a guy with a salvage yard. I'm not sure he would have even let this onto his property."

Sam followed Dean inside and settled down in one of the seats beside him. "You know, if you're just riding this over to drop me off, only to ride it back...I'm good from here. I can get back on in two and a half centars and ride back to meet you in the docking bay. Just don't...be late." He wasn't sure he was ready, but he was willing to try.

Nodding, Dean looked over at him. "How about I drop you off, then you come back alone and I'll be at the docking bay?" Since Sin hadn't been to the agro ship before, Dean wanted to be with him, at least to get him settled, make sure he got acclimated. "I'm not babying you, I'd do the same for anyone. Not like you've been there before, right? And maybe I can steal an apple or something, ya never know."

Actually Sam liked that idea a whole lot better than going over by himself. If something weird happened well, it would be better if Dean were there with him and point him in the right direction or tell him the rules or whatever. He tried to look confident but found himself wanting to hold Dean's hand.

"Yeah. Okay," Sam said.

He inched his hand over and just pinched the cuff of Dean's sleeve with his fingers, just holding on to it for reassurance. No one would notice unless they really looked hard. He didn't figure Dean would approve of hand holding though. This would be the longest he had been away from Dean since he first arrived. He didn't count Dean being away when he was in Dean's quarters, because the warrior was still kind of sort of there, protecting him. No one could walk in and Sam was safe. Here he would be in public, alone. Hopefully there wouldn't be many people.

"Will it be crowded?" Sam asked quietly.

"I haven't been in a long time, but no, I don't think so. The parks are crowded, but you wanted to go to the agro. You a farm boy, Sin?" he asked, a teasing lilt coloring his voice. He sat just a little closer, feeling the guy was trying to be brave but was also seeking reassurance.

Sam laughed and shook his head. "Uh, no, not a farmer. My mom, she liked flowers and planted a small garden. She always thought fresh picked was better. Parks are just...fake. Resorts. Had enough of fake. The agro ships, they have the real stuff. Nothing fake there. Real things growing for real reasons. Mom and Dad and I, we'd take weekend trips out into the country. Dad liked to drive so that's what we did. We'd camp out in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes in parks, sometimes," Sam laughed, "out around farm fields. 'Specially when the crops were tall. We'd race and hike and play hide and seek. I just need real right now." When Dean moved closer, Sam edged himself a little closer so their thighs and shoulders touched. He let go of Dean's cuff but decided screw it, and took hold of his hand. He looked at Dean. "You mind? I'm just...I'm kinda nervous."

"No, I don't mind." He closed his hand around Sin's. There were only two other passengers, and sure, it might lead to comments, but most knew that he was taking care of the newly freed human who had parts of his mind shattered. And if they drew any other conclusions, Dean didn't really give a fuck.

"This is real, but if that feels more real, then that's where you gotta go." He thought for a moment. "My dad used to take me camping... hunting in the wilds, not near farms. Taught me to shoot when I was six. Wanted me to see the consequence of shooting, you know... real death?" Dean licked his lips. "Said it wasn't the same on my virtual games and... I always knew what I wanted to do. He said I should know even when I was shooting from inside a cockpit that I was killing a living, breathing thing. Dean's gaze flicked up. "Since we're fighting Cylons, it was kinda a misguided lesson, huh?"

"We've been fighting them for a thousand yahrens though. There are other things, living things warriors have to go up against sometimes. And...sentient is sentient. Even them, Cylons, they're sentient." Sam's face darkened. "But they," Sam's hand tightened in Dean's, "they don't deserve any tears when they die. When they stop functioning. They're predators. Just too damned smart for the good of the universe." Sam sat in silence for a few centons, lost in himself, lost in his past. He finally shook himself out of the black thoughts and managed a smile at Dean. He realized he still had a death grip on Dean's hand and immediately loosened it. "Sorry. Your dad, he, uh, he sounds like a wise man. I look forward to meeting him tonight. If the docs haven't rattled too many of my screws loose."

Dean chuckled. "Don't expect too much. I mean he's pretty awesome in a cockpit." He winced, all of a sudden words like cockpit had new meaning, at least since meeting Sin. "But he's not warm and fuzzy. He'll probably order you around like a good little soldier boy, same as he does everyone else. Important thing is, once you're in with him, it’s for keeps. He's always got your back," he said with conviction. Not that he thought his dad would take to Sin or anything, but it was a statement of fact about the man in general.

"He still flies?" Sam said, surprised. Usually people got promoted up and out, into leadership positions aboard a ship. Then again, what warrior would want to be stuck babysitting a rotting hulk of a ship full of civvies? Warriors probably hung on to their cockpits as long as possible. "I'm used to being ordered around," Sam said, a faint if ironic smile brushing his lips. Sam shook his head. "No one has your back but yourself," he said softly. "I learned that the hard way. Over and over and over again. I used to believe...but then I found out I was wrong. Trust no one."

He didn't look at Dean or say that Dean was an exception. Dean had abandoned him too, right after bringing him here. Yes, he came back for him. Yes he was trying to get him...help, whether Sam wanted it or not. But eventually, Dean would leave him too. Once Sam was "well" enough to survive on his own...or they found out who he really was. If they found that out, he was certain Dean would turn on him. So he would take what he could while it was offered, but he didn't trust it would last. Or that Dean would stand by him in the end. If Dean surprised him...better to be surprised than to have one's soul shredded again.

"You're wrong. I got your back," Dean said, pulling his hand free and thumping Sin on his back. Trust was something you had to earn, and didn't come overnight. Dean got that. There were also different levels of trust reserved for different people. But one thing he could always bank on was that John of the Winchester clan had his back, and he'd taught him to do the same for his men, and friends.

Before Dean could say more, they were landing. He got up, "Come on farm boy, let's go watch the wheat grow. Can't imagine anything more exciting," he half mocked as the others left the shuttle ahead of them. Giving Sam another moment, he turned and headed for the door.

"I'm not a farm boy," Sam protested as he unhooked the straps and got to his feet.

Chapter Text

Once they moved out of the landing bay, they found themselves under manufactured sunlight with large fields ahead. Dean pointed out the tower. "You should be able to see it from wherever you're at. Here's where you return to." One hand on the guy's back, Dean started to walk and showed him the signage indicating where the various fields were. "I think there are five levels. One set of lifts at the tower, others...everywhere." A group of men in overalls followed by bots carrying farm equipment passed them.

"Let's go to the orchards, I really need to steal an apple," he said, flashing Sin a grin.

Sam looked around at the lush fields. He suspected each level was at a different point in its growing cycle, and he would enjoy seeing the different stages, but this...this was perfect. He could see pods hanging from some of the bushes the plants vined around, bushes laden with ripening berries. So many berries, so many pods. It was an unbelievable garden of plenty. Obviously the agro ship had to been space efficient and use enhancements to produce the food to feed the fleet. He wondered how many agro ships there were. They were probably scattered throughout the fleet to help protect them and to keep them close to the ships they supplied. Although if they were scattered, it might be harder to protect them. Sam wondered which strategy Commander Adama chose.

Orchards meant trees and Sam was all for that. He had his new boots on and grinned back at Dean. "Race ya," Sam called out and took off at full tilt, following the signs that pointed him toward the trees he saw in the distance. He laughed. Dirt. He was running on dirt!

"Wrong way," Dean called out. It was a cheat that had Sin slowing only for microns, dammit. Then Dean was running like a fool too. If they caught this on tape, he was pretty sure Mike or one of his men would make sure it went viral on the fleetwide system, or at least on the Galactica. Ah well, not as if he had a stellar rep to protect, right?

The race turned into some sort of hide and seek, with Sin weaving around the trees and then going silent. It wasn't as if Dean had never played this game but it was usually with the fairer sex. "Come out, come out wherever you are. Or the Drayers monster will get you," he called out, slowing down and listening hard.

Sam had to bite back a snort of laughter. That was a taunt he and his parents had always used. The Drayers monster was supposed to be invisible, but you could hear its panting behind you, always behind you. It smelled of blossoms of whatever flowering plant was in the area. It would materialize and jump out at you or suddenly appear and offer you a piece of fruit or berries or whatever.

Sam watched Dean creep into the orchard and could see Dean was scanning the ground looking for his tracks. It wasn't like he could really hide them, he hadn't had the time, and so Dean slowly worked his way towards Sam. He waited for Dean to get close enough, then, hooking his knees over the tree limb, he let himself fall backwards so he was facing Dean, hanging upside down from the tree.

"Boo!" he shouted at him, and then after he took a bite of the apple in his hand, he held it out to Dean. "Take a bite of my apple, my pretty?" he asked, grinning foolishly.

"Sonova..." Dean came to a standstill, then shook his head. "Upside down and offering an apple, I see how you are now." Swiping the bitten apple from him, he used it to point at Sin. "Now I get how your name suits you." Bringing the fruit to his mouth, he took a big bite, 'Mmm'ing' as the tart juice squirted, and he chewed on the crunchy apple. "At least you know how to pick 'em." He was not gonna think of sex. Not gonna. Not.

Sam pulled himself back into the tree, grabbed another apple and dropped down beside Dean. He goosed him in the ribs. "See, it's a good name for me," he chuckled. "And yes," he leaned in and swiped his tongue over the juice dripping from of the corner of Dean's mouth, "I know how to pick them. Or have them pick me." He tapped Dean on the shoulder. "Tag! You're it!" Sam said and took off through the trees, laughter following behind him.

The sensation of Sin's warm, wet tongue, flicking over the corner of his mouth held Dean in shock for a split micron. Then he was after the guy, chasing now with determination. He could hear him laughing, but didn't join in, reserving his breath and energy for one thing only, speed.

He started to assess the pattern of Sin's attempt to flee. He picked flat ground, avoided trees with large roots, but seemed to like weaving around the larger trunked trees. Taking a guess as to Sin's route, Dean darted to the right, overshooting slightly, and then doubling back, coming at Sin directly from the front.

When he came face to face with Sin, there was the thrill of having shocked him. But it was short lived, because Dean found himself pushing Sin up against a tree, his hands flat on the bark on either side of Sin's shoulder as he leaned in and kissed him square on the mouth. His tongue delved past Sin's lips, stroking the roof of his mouth and moaning slightly. Sin tasted good with apples... So fucking good.

"Cheaters..." Dean kissed him again, a little harder. "Never..." Bringing his mouth down, he tangled his tongue with Sin's, battling and pulling away. "Prosper," he said thickly, but without any conviction.

Sam was not only surprised that Dean caught him, coming at him from the front no less, he was kind of surprised Dean even chased after him, playing the childish games with him. He was definitely surprised to find himself pressed up against the tree with Dean kissing him. Not that he minded, not in the absolute least. Dropping the apple he was still carrying, he slid his hands underneath the warrior's shirt, caressing his sides and back as he returned Dean's kisses.

"Wasn't cheating," Sam said breathlessly, in part from running and in part from Dean's kisses. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pushed off from the tree, spinning them so the warrior was now firmly trapped between himself and the tree. He pressed up against Dean, his cock taking quick interest in the turn of events. Sam took control of the kissing next, the kisses growing more heated, his groans more demanding.

"Taste so good," Sam murmured, then with a practiced hand, pulled open the shoulder seal to the uniform, pulling it down and exposing the side of Dean's neck and collar bone. He immediately began to lick and suck and nip at the freshly exposed flesh.

Dean still had his apple clutched in his fist, but had it pressed against Sin's back, his other hand gripping Sam's ass. He hadn't expected heat to flare up between them so fast, and with such intensity. When would he learn? All he knew right now was this felt good, was something he needed... wanted. His entire body was tingling, vibrating with need. "How do you do this to me?" he demanded, moving his face from side to side as Sin's mouth on his throat wreaked havoc with is senses. "How do I let you?"

Sam didn't answer Dean's almost rhetorical question as he continued working on Dean's throat, ever so careful to stop just shy of leaving any marks on the man. That was one of the lessons you learned on Thiros. You never marked your client and even though he didn't come close to thinking of Dean as a client, the drilled in training simply made it automatic. The chemistry he felt with Dean was undeniable. And Dean's neck just wasn't enough. He grabbed the hem of Dean's shirt and pulled it up, forcing Dean's arms up. He caught the apple Dean dropped and, tossing Dean's shirt aside, tossed the apple beside it.

That was better. Hardly a breath passed between Dean's shirt come off of him and Sam licking and sucking at his dark pink nipple. "I want you," Sam whispered as he ran his hands over Dean, fingers flicking over bare skin, running down the curve of his ass, and rubbing across Dean's hardening cock.

"Ungh..." Dean sucked in his breath, his stomach clenching tight as Sin touched and manhandled him in ways he hadn't before. It surprised him. Excited him. Pleased him, because he knew he wasn't dealing with Sin the slave right here, right now. This was Sin, the man, doing something rare... what he pleased, taking it because he wanted it.

Deep down, Dean wondered if he was making excuses, justifying because he wanted this as much as Sin. If he gave himself time to think, he knew he'd be pulling away, trying to do what was best for Sin. But he wasn't pulling away, he was pulling on Sin, fingers running through his hair as Sin's mouth and tongue left hot trails across his chest and set his blood on fire.

"Okay." He looked around, fighting his lust long enough to make a cursory search for view cams. "Okay," he repeated, pushing his hand under Sin's shirt, his blunt fingernails digging and skimming over smooth skin and firm muscle. He'd never felt like this with anyone else, so out of control. "Need you," he said, his breaths labored, his cock straining against his pants... aching. Sweeping his hand over Sin's stomach, he moved down and started to undo his pants, his thumb deliberately caressing the hard outline of Sin's shaft.

Sam moaned, his lust incensed when he felt Dean's hands at his pants, when he felt the light brush across his thickening member. He practically ripped the man's belt latch open and undid Dean's pants, then drove his hands under the waistband to caress the firm muscles of Dean's ass. Squeezing and kneading, he explored the curves, then rubbed his finger along the cleft between his cheeks, his finger circling and playing with Dean's hole. He switched nipples then and sucked and toyed with the hardened nub as his free hand slid around Dean's hip to his groin. Lightly he took hold of Dean's cock, rubbing and stroking, moistening his hand with the flowing pre-cum.

"Want you, want in you," Sam moaned, his cock stiffening at just the thought of pounding into this beautiful man in front of him. "Say yes. Say I can take you the way I want to. Will you let me?" Sam begged, his blood on fire. He was fully prepared for Dean to deny him and would accept it, not because Dean was his master but because the man said 'no.' The fact Dean owned him was almost the farthest thing from his mind. All he could think of was the heat he felt between them, the almost desperate need he felt for this man. Dean was probably a virgin to being ass-fucked and any virgin tended to be nervous. "'S'okay if you say 'no,' he reassured Dean, "but if you thought I was good before, you haven't seen anything yet. Say 'yes.'"

Sin had already been playing his body like an instrument and it was all Dean could do to keep standing, but the unexpected request sent heat lancing from Dean's gut to his already aching cock. Seven days ago... yesterday... he would have shoved Sin away at the first hint of what he suggested. Now... now his eyes clashed with Sin's the same way that indecision warred inside him. Somehow he realized taking it would be as good as giving it with this man. Between that, and the need to give Sin back a piece of himself, Dean grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him close. "I need to be able to walk after," he said, before welding his open mouth over Sin's, and kissing him hard, as if to seal the deal.

The kiss, the promise in it, made Sam's heart pounding so furiously he could believe it if it just shattered its way free of his chest. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him up tight. Yes. The man said yes. He would make it so good for Dean that the warrior would never forget, would want it, would crave it. Pounding hard and furiously into Dean would be delicious but not this time, not the first time. He would treat the man with the utmost of care. "You'll walk fine, I promise," Sam whispered when they both had to break off their kiss just to breathe.

Sam stepped back from Dean, admiring his kiss swollen the lips, the...marks...he had left on the man's chest. A part of him was horrified, but another part was beyond delighted. Dean was his. His to mark, to claim, to own and be owned by. He pulled his shirt off, feeling Dean's hands run up his sides as he helped Sam get free of the clothes. Sam's gaze raked over the man and he dropped to his knees, sliding his lips around Dean's firm flesh, sucking on the tip, his tongue caressing it as he slowly eased Dean's pants lower. Once he got them down, he put his hands on Dean's hips and guided him to the ground. He pulled off of Dean's cock long enough to finish disrobing the man. Nipping and sucking at Dean's inner thighs, he wrapped his fingers around Dean's shaft and began to give him long slow strokes.

Dean was given no more time to think, to worry about being outdoors, to wonder if he was nuts. There wasn't a micron when Sin wasn't touching him, with his hands or mouth, making it impossible for him to thing beyond the moment, the sensations, his desire for Sin and Sin's for himself. Kneeling on the soft soil right next to him, Sin was jacking him off slowly. As if that wasn't torture enough, he was doubled over, his mouth leaving trails of fire along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Gripping Sin's shoulder, he started to fuck his fist, insisting on a faster rhythm, needing it more and more. "Ungh... good...fu... yeah," his words came out in broken gasps. Pushing his hand up from Sin's shoulder into his hair, Dean closed his fingers around the silky soft strands and pulled him up, slowly but insistently until he had access to that mouth. His gaze lingered on it for a micron, then he twisted to the side and kissed Sin, one arm around his waist, the other over Sin's, moving with him over his hard flesh, feeling the press of Sin's arousal against his hip.

So anxious, Dean was always so anxious to finish, Sam thought with amusement as he kissed Dean back. He eased himself around behind the man, keep their lips locked in the kiss and tangling their tongues together. Running his fingers over his own pre-cum, he then moved his fingers to Dean's hole and every time Dean pressed back, Sam pressed a little firmer, running his finger round and round the rim of his hole in between. With a skilled twist of his wrist, he gave Dean a little extra stimulation on his cock as he pressed his finger inside Dean, groaning into Dean's mouth at the feel of that tight moist heat clenching around his finger. He began to tongue fuck Dean, matching Dean's pace, but forcing him to slow down. He wanted them to come together and if he was going to be gentle, Dean needed to go a bit slower.

Brushing his finger across Dean's prostate, he used it like a reward, if Dean slowed down, Sam put pressure on that gland. He felt Dean's shudder, could practically taste his need every time he stimulated Dean from the inside. The sounds spilling from Dean was making his lust spike. He began to fuck between Dean's legs, his cock sliding between the cheeks to nudge Dean's balls. In the process he gathered more pre-cum on his fingers and slid in a second finger as he twisted and squeezed Dean's cock in distraction. He had wanted to tongue and taste Dean's hole but both men were well beyond any hope of that. That could come next time, though it seemed if they made love it was with abandon, unless they did it all night long and leisure sex became possible. Right now he wanted to be buried deeply in his virgin lover but he would not rush this. Dean had to be prepared, had to be stretched. He would never hurt the man in his arms.

The burning pain was blotted out by competing sensations spiraling through Dean. In the back of his mind, he suspected he was like putty in Sin's hands, and wasn't thrilled by the idea, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Sin knew how to make him respond, and whether it was innate knowledge, chemistry or skill... the end result was the same.

Oh God, he ached so good. The light pressure of Sin's cock against his balls had Dean fucking back, leaning forward, needing more... wanting to be squeezed. The slow twists and strokes of Sin's closed fist over his rock hard cock had him dying for more... more speed... more friction... just more. And each time Sin touched him just right from the inside, a moan would erupt from the back of his throat, muffled by Sin's mouth over his. As their tongues tangled, all he could think of was he needed to fuck to the same pace. "Sin!," he finally practically growled in frustration, his teeth clinking against the other man's as he brought their mouths together again.

Sam gave Dean everything he could, every bit of expert pleasure possible while stretching Dean and making him ready. He slipped his thumb in beside his fingers, stretching him more, holding him open until Dean's muscles relaxed some and them stretching him more. Dean was getting frustrated and desperate and he knew the pleasure was getting too much, too much stimulation. He finally pulled his fingers out and with a couple strokes along his own shaft, he lubed it as best he could. He positioned his tip at Dean's hole and groaned at the glorious feel. He moved with Dean but pressed a little more firmly each time Dean pressed back. He gave a slight snap of his hips, just enough to get his head past that tight ring of muscle. Distracting Dean with more attention to his cock, and using his now free hand to snake around, he rubbed Dean's nipple, circling it and pinching it, still moving with Dean, but not pushing in any deeper.

Sin's tip rubbing against the sensitive area of his hole had Dean pushing back even more with anticipation, but when Sin thrust hard enough to push inside him, blinding pain brought Dean to a screeching halt. It burned... burned bad, and the only reason he wasn't pushing Sin away from him was that his lover had stopped moving too. Staying stock still, Dean started to concentrate on the other sensations flooding his system. On Sin's hand on his chest, teasing him, touching him... on his mouth, his tongue kissing, tangling with his own. Slowly, Dean forgot the invasion and started to relax, to welcome Sin's cock inside him, to move slowly back and forth. His breaths grew more labored, his motions just a little more erratic, then he clenched around Sin's cock, knowing how it would feel... deriving pleasure from the knowledge and from the sharp intake of Sin's breath validating it.

Sam moaned at the feel of Dean around him and could barely force himself to wait, to hold back. The intensity of his kissing he somehow managed to increase and when he felt the man was ready, he pushed in deeper, pushing in until his cock brushed Dean's prostrate as he began a gentle thrusting, slowly working himself deeper and deeper as he pulled out more and more, stretching Dean as gently as he could.

A groan tore from the back of Dean's throat when he felt Sin bury himself deep inside him. He squeezed around his lover, lost in new sensations... a burning, aching pain... a strange fullness, a sense of power that came with the knowledge that each of his motions, each contraction of his muscles, each push back against Sin affected his lover. He sensed all this and more as Sin started to kiss him harder, as if willing him to get past the pain, to allow his lover to fuck.

Okay. Dean's permission made its way into Sam's lust laden brain. He finally pushed in all the way, holding himself there for a moment and feeling every motion they made against one another. He felt the sensation of Dean's hard nipple under his fingers, the velvet of skin stretched taut over Dean's cock, the warm liquid of Dean's pre-cum lubricating his hand. Hot breath fanned his face and the warm moist heat of his lover's tongue as they danced and tangled set his mouth on fire. The smell of Dean's shampoo, the smell of Dean engulfed him. The feel of Dean clenched around him. Everything frozen in time, everything a moment, everything an eternity, a breath in the heartbeat of the universe...

"Ungh... good... okay," Dean muttered between kisses, starting to move his hips back and forth, groaning when Sin slid part way out of him and drove back inside, his cock brushing against that part of him that had Dean shivering and boneless. He ground his hips back into Sin, one arm behind him, cupping Sin's head, whispering nonsense against his lips as he begged for more.

Sam began to move, to pump his cock in and out of Dean's tight hole, every fiber of him begging for more sensations, more stimulation, more, more, more. It was time, time for them both to experience the culmination of their lovemaking and Sam grinned against Dean's lips. "Now," he whispered and began fucking Dean, pistoning slowly at first, but driving deep. His hand slid over Dean's cock at the same pace, beginning to pick up speed as he tongue-fucked Dean in time with his thrusts. Wrapping his arm around Dean's ribs he held them close, pulling Dean back every time he drove in, grunting and groaning into Dean's mouth at the complete ecstasy he felt ripple through him, both at the feelings Dean gave him and the pleasure he knew he was giving Dean.

Faster and faster they moved until Sam felt his balls draw up tightly. He threw back his head, his lover's name spilling from his lips as the release shook him, as he shoved in all the way and felt his seed fill the man in his arms.

By the time Sin came deep inside him, Dean was a wreck of desire and lust, chasing his own release. Each time Sin thrust into him, all he could think was yes, more, harder, fuck me. And Sin did, showing Dean just how powerful and strong he was as he pressed forward, his muscles rippling and straining. If Sin hadn't been holding him tight around the waist, Dean would have needed to put his hands against a tree, or a wall, or he'd have been pushed to the ground. It was wonderful and freeing in ways he'd never imagined... not having control, though he did try to exert a little control whenever Sin gave him any say in the pace they fucked. Now, as Sin's fist kept moving over his cum slicked cock, Dean bucked one last time and closed his eyed tight as his orgasm lanced through him. "Sin! Oh fuck... Sin!" he almost shouted, but his lover's mouth covered his in time to prevent the too loud cry from traveling far.

Waves of pleasure continued to crash, making Dean move slowly, making him continue to fuck Sin's fist and push back against Sin's hips, until the pleasure-pain eased, and he dropped his head back on Sin's shoulder. "You're a machine," he whispered, chuckling. "Mean fucking machine." No one ever accused Dean of being a poet.

Sam was breathing heavily as he ran his hand over Dean's sweat coated body. "I'm glad you liked it," Sam said, kissing Dean's temple. "You were pretty amazing yourself. And you make me crazy, you know that," he accused softly but chuckled too.

Although he didn't want do, he finally let Dean go and slowly pulled himself out of Dean. Tugging Dean away from the mess they'd made, he pulled Dean down onto the ground. Leaning over him, he began slowly kissing him and roaming his hands over the man's body with gentle intimate caresses. He loved the feel of Dean's skin beneath his fingers.

"Thank you," he whispered in Dean's ear, then laid beside Dean, staring up through the branches at the 'sky.' Holding Dean's hand, their fingers interlaced, he pulled Dean's hand onto his own chest. "I like to be lost in the moment. It's so much easier than dealing with my past demons. I especially like being lost in the moment with you. I've never...I don't think I've ever enjoyed making love to anyone like I do with you. Something about you, it's extra special, extra...everything."

He should be feeling guilty, but instead, Dean's heart was soaring at Sin's words. Course he had to think it through a little more. Sure, he knew that he was good at sex, but that was really with women. What sparked between himself and Sin, how it felt, he had to give the credit to Sin. Besides, how many men had the guy been with? How could Dean, with his lack of experience with men, really be his best fuck? "Probably you just like the challenge," he answered.

Dean He took in a deep breath and looked over at Sin. He saw something more in his expression, in his eyes. Between that, and the fact they were holding hands, Dean became aware for the first time that Sin might not be talking just about sex. He didn't really know what to say to that. He already knew Sin meant something to him, but he hadn't figured out exactly what. A friend? Someone he had the need to help? A lover... a fuck buddy... or something more? He'd never found 'something more' with anyone so he didn't have anything to compare this to. He licked his lips, then brought Sin's hand up, kissing his knuckles. "I think you've got something extra special too. I don't know how else to explain how you keep getting me naked. I'm fucking stubborn, ask anyone... but you, you keep ... I don't know how you do it."

"I'm charismatic," Sam supplied helpfully. "Sexy. Determined. Well hung. Built. Best kisser...okay, maybe we tie there. Best fuck this side of the galaxy. Magical. Incubus..." Sam ticked off, then laughed at Dean's expression. "What? I'm just trying to be helpful. You're going to have to tell them something when that video hits all the newsfeeds. You do know there's a camera right there don't you?"

When Dean's attention shot to where Sam pointed, Sam burst into laughter. "Hmm, you being gullible needs to be on your list of how I get you naked. I am very good at seduction when I'm so inclined. And you definitely make me inclined to be." He rolled onto his side and stared at Dean, simply admiring the man's look. "Damn, you are so fracking hot. Just in case you didn't know that already."

"I am," Dean nodded, taking a page out of Sin's book. "But don't objectify me." This time, it was Sin's stunned look that had Dean laughing. He rolled closer and slanted his mouth across Sin's, kissing him soundly, before he sat up. "You too, Sin. You're too fracking hot, but I know that you do know that already. Now," he ran a hand over his face, and jutted his chin toward Sin's pack, which he knew held water and other items. "You wouldn't happen to have something useful in there I could clean up with? And quick... I don't feel like getting caught or having rumors spread about farm nymphs..."

"But farm nymphs are the best. Except maybe for shoreline nymphs. Those are good too if you can avoid the sand getting in uncomfortable places. Then again there are wood nymphs and riverside nymphs..." Sam began ticking off. He laughed at the glare Dean tossed him. Looking mischievous, he suddenly pounced on Dean, knocking him flat on his back and kissing the daylights out of him. He sat up then, looking extremely satisfied with himself, and grabbed his pack. "I have water and two bandanas...and gee, look, a towel! No, I'm sure you don't want that though..." Seeing Dean's raised eyebrow he protested, "I have a pair of your shorts and workout shirts too. I was going to go jogging and I thought a towel would be useful."

Before handing Dean the water, he drizzle some on a bandana for himself then gave Dean the water, a bandana, and the towel. He grinned. "And next time I'll bring the lube."

"Just happened to have all that, huh?" Dean gave him a look as he got up, but accepted the towel and water. As he cleaned himself up, he couldn't help watching Sin from under his lashes. The man was incredibly built... flawless, and now Dean knew how those powerful muscles felt under him and behind him. He got dressed slowly, his body aching slightly and he knew that for a while, he would not be allowed to forget Sin had been inside him, but it wasn't too bad.

Fastening his belt, he caught Sin's eyes. "I can walk," he acknowledged, then grabbed his shirt and started to put it on. "You been thinking about that for a while or did it just come to you?" He didn't mean just the sex, nothing would convince Dean that Sin hadn't planned that.

Sam felt his cheeks color. "Maybe...maybe kinda dreamed about it," he mumbled. "But hey, you started the kissing! Don't be blaming me for that. I was just playing tag," he said innocently. "Besides, if I had been planning it, I would have brought the lube with me." He chewed on his lower lip a centon. "Do you have to go back? Would you want to walk with me? And see, it's not boring here, not if you have someone with you."

Using some of the water, he rinsed off the apple Dean had held and then offered Dean his still whole apple while he took a fresh bite from the one both he and Dean had already taken a few bites from. "Fresh apples, after all."

"That is where it all started," Dean said pointing at the apple but still grabbing it from Sin. He thought about Sin's request, then pressed the button on the transmitter at his belt to get the time. Yeah, it was almost not worth going back, only to have to go to the docking bay again a short while later to meet up with Sin and get him to the doctors. He took a bite, watching Sin closely as he finished dressing. "Okay. I'm staying," he nodded, but cocked his head to side to indicate he had more to say before Sin got excited. "I just... I don't want to hurt you. This, whatever this is..." he waved the hand that still held the apple between them. "I don't have a name for it. Just..." he licked his lips. "You get what I'm saying?"

Sam stepped into Dean's personal space and put two fingers under his chin so they were looking into each others’ eyes. He gave Dean a long, slow kiss. "It's chemistry. Whatever is between us, there is undeniable chemistry. I can't think long term," Sam continued, his voice soft as he stroked Dean's hair, his cheek, his jaw soothingly. "It's not in a slave's nature. When we get in a routine, it's hard to break that routine. If we do, it's...unnerving. But part of that routine is knowing that your owner can change that routine. We...exist...at the whim of our owner. It is best to think of the moment and focus only on that. I can't imagine what tomorrow will be. Or a week from now, a hectar, a yahren. You are trying to break this training, mend what was broken. I don't know that it can be mended, I only know the now...and the now keeps changing for me. Sometimes I'm strong, a shadow of who I had been from before and I can walk beside you. Sometimes I'm weak and confused, and I need you to reassure me and guide me and help me and be my owner. I know if you hadn't come for me in the asylum, I would be near death. I'm grateful you saved me. I don't know what 'this' is either. I can't promise I won't be hurt, but I think so long as you stand with me, I'll survive it."

Sam stepped away and gathered his things, then threw his light pack over his shoulder as he took another bite. He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for them to start walking. "Besides, if things don't become serious between us and we go our separate ways, Mike's indicated he might be interested." Sam turned to look ahead and smiled to himself.

Dean had been deep in thought about the things Sin said when his head whipped around and he caught Sin turning away. His gut feeling said Sam was still joking around, but then again, he wasn't a hundred percent sure. "I see plenty of twenty-four centar shifts in Mike's future," he said a little tightly, but knowing that someone walking alongside him was very pleased. He wasn't about to examine his real feelings, not right now. He was relaxed and wanted to stay that way.

Sam chuckled at Dean's 'threat' and almost felt bad for Mike. No, he would feel badly for Mike if Dean did that to him, though it did make him feel more than a little pleased Dean was jealous. He was also happy Dean agreed to stay. While he had planned on jogging, the playing hide and seek chase, the game of tag, and then the hot sex had him happily relaxed and he had certainly gotten his workout. He had to admit, he was still processing what had happened, what had gotten into him, taking control like that. Thankfully Dean seemed to like it and hopefully would let Sam top again. Sam would love getting to see Dean's face while he brought Dean off, stroking his prostate while stroking his cock.

Although Sam was usually one to talk a lot, silence seemed to appropriate, and it was a relaxed silence between them as they walked.
They passed out of the orchard and into berry bushes territory and Sam couldn't help but grab some ripe berries to pop into his mouth. So good and juicy! He collected another handful and split them between Dean and himself. When he spied the red and yellow butterfly floating lazily through the air further down the row, he froze for a centon. It hadn't occurred to him that they would use natural pollinators, though he suspected they didn't rely on them. He chased after the butterfly, not to catch it, but just to watch it. He hadn't seen a butterfly in yahrens, not a real one. Maybe it was silly and girly, but it could have been any live animal and he probably would have chased after it, just to marvel at it. He hadn't seen anything but humanoids and aliens and seeing something so simple and elegant and beautiful, it was an amazing treat.

Dean followed along more slowly, basically watching Sin and either chuckling or smiling. Really, he never gave places like this a second thought and it was interesting and fun to see it through Sin's eyes. And that boy... man... he had a smile that made Dean's heart clench. That's what Dean wanted for Sin, many reasons to laugh and smile, and no more reasons to cower or be timid. He was damned sure this was Sin's real personality, a man who liked to laugh and joke, to press buttons, and who knew how to get his way. And there was more, Dean knew it, there were mysteries that made up Sin, mysteries the man himself wanted to forget or bury. Maybe it had been really bad for him, the Final Destruction. There were a lot of people still traumatized by it, asylum ships full of people like that.

He kicked a stone out of the way, and picked up speed. "Hey, sign says there's a pond that way. Bet that means birds." If Sin found a butterfly that interesting, he'd be doing somersaults over ducks.

Pond? Sam practically stopped and spun in one motion, his eyes going to the sign. The thought of fish and frogs and waterfowl made him grin. "C'mon," Sam said eagerly, grabbing Dean by the wrist and breaking into a light run, dragging Dean with him.

Eyes glued to the path, he watched for more signs and followed them excitedly. There. Water. Up ahead. He ran right up to the edge of the shimmering water. The pond was large, one of many, a source for fish to breed and for water run-off to gather. Fat waterfowl paddled on the water and Sam saw at least one frog hanging in the water, it's eyes just above the surface, watching the world. Letting go of Dean's hand he hardly missed a beat as he kicked off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. The shore was pebbles and sand and Sam couldn't help but curl his toes into he warm sand. Walking into the cold water, Sam yipped in mild complaint. He didn't go in far, just enough to get the water up to his ankles. He breathed in the smell of the pond and watched the living creatures with bright eyes. Fish and tadpoles darted around his feet, ducks quacked and watched him, some approaching him fearlessly, checking him out, only to swim back out and away. Sam scooped up a small feather floating on the surface of the gently lapping waves. He smiled and sort of poked at it and showed it to Dean.

"Is it all right if I keep this? Take it back to our quarters? And can I maybe take a pebble back too?"

"Feather and stones?" Dean shrugged and shook his head, though he was smiling. "Yeah, knock yourself out. You know, you can get a pair of frogs. Has to be by requisition, but if you want to do that... you're dealing with the agro administrators and they are tough asses when it comes to taking care of the animals. That means you give them health reports, and if they have little baby frogs, you gotta report it... and yeah, take care of them. I mean, if you're interested. Or fish. Not birds," he gave Sin a look. "I don't want to deal with their racket."

He was thinking that Sin having to take care of something that was alive would be good for him. It would also force him to interact with others in a business type capacity. "The waiting list for bigger animals is yahrens long, and I don't think we have the place for something big anyway."

"No pony?" Sam pouted as he carefully set the feather and pebble in his pack and pulled out his running shorts and began to dry off his feet. He laughed at Dean's look as he re-shoed himself. "Fish," Sam declared. "Frogs 'brack' and 'croak' and are noisy too and I don't really want to wake up with a frog in my bed." Sam climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt from his ass. Dirt. Sand. He practically wanted to laugh at the simple joy of feeling the natural textures.

"Maybe a caterpillar too?" he said thoughtfully. "If they have butterflies they must have caterpillars that need homes. Both are pretty easy to care for. I remember getting to watch a caterpillar spin its cocoon once. It was fascinating. And with it has to come a plant to feed it leaves or whatever. I like plants."

"Whatever you want, just don't turn the place into a jungle... it's not very captainly," Dean said, making a face at the thought of others seeing his place turned into some sort of garden. They walked a little more, then Dean started to chuckle and looked over at Sin. "If you like ponies, there's a ship in the fleet that has a bar with a mechanical bulls... you know the kind that you have to try to stay on? Yeah, I know, not the same but..." he shrugged at the thought of wagering as to who could stay seated longer. "But if you mention your thing for plants there, I think we'd both be thrown out. Rough crowd."

"Rough crowd? I bet I could have them treating us like princes or something. One or two dances and throwing us out would be the last thing on their minds."

Before Dean could tell Sin that shaking his ass in front of that crowd would be a very bad idea, Sin brightened suddenly and looked at Dean.

"I can have plants in the main living area? You'll let me? I figured, you know, on my nightstand, but I can put a couple out in the living quarters?" He threw his arms around Dean and kissed him. "I won't make it a jungle. I know exactly what I'll ask for. A small filindi tree, a seed to grow a teglas palm, and markos plant. What's your favorite color? They bloom all the time, little flowers that look like shooting stars and the white parts of the flowers even glow in the dark. The come in reds and blues and golds and purples...I know, we'll get red since you're captain of red! The blooms produce little edible seeds, great for sprinkling on sweetcakes and stuff, too."

Dean cleared his throat. "People," he warned, pulling away as some men in overalls appeared.

Sam immediately missed Dean's warmth. The slight distance he put between them sort of hurt, but then, Dean was a captain, and Mike said he wasn't into guys. Maybe Dean was just...being nice and taking advantage of the good sex while Sam was staying with him. He was his owner, not-owner--frack , it made his head hurt. Thinking back to the hot sex they'd just had, Sam decided Dean wasn't taking advantage of him. He was, kinda, but not. It was confusing and Sam wanted the sex, so how could it really be taking advantage of him? Sam would go crazy if he didn't get sex every couple days. That too was ingrained into him. Something was terribly wrong, he had done something terribly wrong, if he wasn't having sex at least every couple days. The fact Dean wanted to have sex with him for who he was and not what he was, it gave him a sense of value that he couldn't really put into words. It made him feel like a person again instead of an object to be used, and feeling like a person again, it made him more confident that he was a person and not a slave.

Looking down at the ground as they walked, Dean turned his head toward Sin and chuckled ruefully. His reputation was going to be shot to hell, if not now, soon. "Fine on the plants, but seriously... no jungle." Giving Sin a look to let him know he wasn't kidding, he was coming to realize how willful and sneaky this man could be. Either that, or Dean was turning into a fracking pushover. Maybe if he told the docs how happy, relaxed and excited the guy appeared here, they might be able to give him a plot of land or have him helping with some agro duties or something, but Dean wasn't going to say anything in case it didn't work out. One thing he did not want was to disappoint this man who'd seen too much disappointment in his life.

"No jungle. Promise," Sam agreed. "Five plants. The palm sprouts fast, but then takes forever to grow. You can twist them into interesting shapes because of that."

"We should probably head back, maybe grab a coffee at the docking bay." Dean slapped his hand on Sin's back. "You can do this again any time you want, and now you're an old hand... know your way around."

"Really? Maybe...maybe I'll see if I can work here. That way I'm not just stealing apples and berries and tromping around in fields. I don't know that I'd want to do it forever, but, well, you're going to have to return to regular duty before too long and it would give me something to do, even if I just volunteered for half days or something. Since you work the night shift, one of the agro ships is bound to be on the same schedule as you. Even though night and day onboard a ship is kind of irrelevant. I'm used to keeping all sorts of strange hours anyhow." Sam nodded but felt the tension creep back into his muscles. "Sure, coffee sounds good," he said, trying to sound pleased, but he really didn't want to go see the doctors and psych-techs and everything. "I guess there's no way I can avoid the doctors, is there?" he asked softly.

Dean took a deep breath. "Not for a while, but you're... I see a lot of improvement in just a short time. You must feel it too," he said, locking gazes with Sin, willing him not to backslide, not now. "Just think ahead to what comes after. Your long assed shopping spree, and then gaming, that'll be fun."

"I'm okay when I don't have to think about anything beyond, you know, here, now. I'm not so good with what they'll want from me. And I told you, I'm not into shopping. I haven't...I never got to pick out clothes. They always did it for me. Usually told me what to wear, too. Not a good idea to give slaves any choices. Then they start to think they can make their own decisions and that's not a proper attitude for a slave to have." Sam shrugged. "Like I don't have any choice about the doctors and what they'll ask me. But yeah, the gaming will be fun to watch, I'm sure. You're good at cards, I remember that."

If Sin was trying to make him feel guilty, he was succeeding. But Dean couldn't allow himself to be swayed, wouldn't. This was too important and verbal or mental gymnastics didn't change anything. Sin had to break out of his slave mentality and find himself, and to do that, he needed help.

The ferry between the ships was there soon after they arrived at the docking bay but Dean practically had to drag Sin on board.

As soon as they sat down, Sam buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck and gripped his hand so tightly he was probably bruising it. He didn't cry. But he wanted to.

Setting his coffee down, Dean pulled the distraught man into his arms. His eyes battled the one other person on board, until they looked away, then he looked down. "You made a lot of choices today, whether or not you realize it. You decided to come here. You decided that I would stay with you. You chose the insects and... and plants that you want, you made decisions for yourself. Baby steps, but progress. I'm real proud of you Sin. I want to tell you that, I am." His own dad had rarely spoken those words to him, but the few times he had, Dean had soaked them up and treasured them. He wasn't this man's father, but he was his caretaker for now, and he said the words, for whatever they might be worth to him.

Sam listened to Dean and though he wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to dammit, the tears spilled anyway. "Then let me choose not to talk with the men who will interrogate me, who scare me," he begged softly. "I don't want to be interrogated again. I don't. I don't want to-to-to go to sleep again and lose you like I lost everything else. Don't let them put me to sleep when they're done. I don't like the cold...." Sam felt the sob in the back of his throat break free. "I'll make you even prouder. I swear I will. I'll be good. I'll do anything you want. Tell you anything. Don't let them hurt me or put me to sleep. I don't want to be hurt anymore. I don't want to sleep anymore. I just want you. I just want to stay a slave for you." Through his tears he's managed a final, "Save me, Master. Please, save me from them." He knew he wasn't supposed to call Dean 'master' but the desperation swelled in him as the shuttle headed for the Galactica and the fate he feared waited for him.

"Shshsh, listen, you're getting mixed up. You trust me?" He tried to look into Sin's eyes but the man had his face buried in his throat. "There is no interrogation, you're not a prisoner of war or of any other kind." Dean frowned. Had Sin been interrogated after Final Destruction? Dean had assumed he'd had a difficult time surviving and then had been captured and enslaved, but there were little hints of more. "And no one is putting you to sleep." Stroking up Sin's back, he touched the slave collar, hating it, and yet knowing it comforted the man. "No executions, no drugs to put you out, I swear Sin. I didn't get you out of one hell only to bring you into another." His gaze flicked to the man sitting across from them, and he saw the guy was looking away. Putting a finger under Sin's chin, he force him to look up. "But if you need saving? I'll be there, Captain's honor," he said, gaze locked with the man's. The words weren't empty. He'd broken rules for this man, would break more if necessary. They were somehow tied together, he knew it at gut level.

Sam tried to believe his words but the fear left the taste of bile in his throat. Confused? Yes, he felt the confusion that always swelled over him when the fear hit. When he was this afraid it was easier to beg the man who’d been so kind to him, who owned him, to protect him so he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to remember. He just wanted to go on being Sin. He was happy as Sin. Mostly. As Sam…too many bad things had happened to Sam. Bad things had happened to Sixty-Nine, too, but once he accepted his fate and got his nickname, things went much better for him, with the exception of a few unpleasant customers. He felt Dean’s comforting hand on his back and felt the touch to his slave collar, as if reminding him he was Dean’s and Dean wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

He didn’t fight it as Dean forced him to look into his beautiful green eyes. “I…I don’t really trust the word of warriors anymore, but I trust you.” He settled against Dean’s chest, finally easing his bone crushing grip on Dean’s hand. “I’ll…I’ll try to make you proud of me again. I’m sorry I’m so…messed in the head. I’ll try not to panic when we go to the doctor’s, I promise I’ll try…but you might want to hold on to me, just in case. I…might try to run.” He wanted to run straight back to their quarters as soon as the ship landed. Letting go of Dean’s hand, he lifted Dean’s coffee and gave it to him as he slowly sat up. He wiped away the tears with the heel of his hand and picked up his own coffee, glad for the lid since his hand was trembling almost violently.

"You're not gonna run," Dean answered, giving him an encouraging look but noticing how Sin's hand shook. "Last time you went, you were afraid. But it wasn't as bad as you thought, remember that? It's just something you gotta get through, a centar, then it's over. You can do this, I know you can. And I'll be right there, with you." Deep down, Dean knew they wouldn't always allow him to stay for Sin's sessions, they'd let him only so long as they felt it was beneficial. At some point, Sin would need to see the docs alone, and if possible, Dean would wait for him in the waiting room. But he wasn't about to broach this with Sin, not now, not until it became necessary.

He had at least convinced them to hold off on any regression therapy or truth serum until Sin was a little more stable, until they had talked with him more. He had also convinced them to minimize Sin's sessions for now since it sent the man into such a tailspin. When Sin was afraid, they weren't going to get squat out of him. As Sin grew more comfortable, he seemed much more willing to talk and memories seemed to flow more readily. If they could get him comfortable going to the see doctors, Dean believed Sin would open up, but not if he felt threatened. After talking with Dean and based upon the first interview, the doctors agreed to give Sin a week before increasing the number of doctor appointments, but it was made perfectly clear than Sin was still strongly considered a threat to the fleet until he had proven otherwise. They had approved Sin going to the agroship in part because they wanted to see what the man might do there and all sensitive equipment were monitored in the event Sin investigated them. It was part of the reason Dean had been concerned about cameras when they had their fun in the trees.

Not gonna run. Not gonna run. Sam repeated that to himself. Dean didn’t want him to run. Dean wanted him to go. …And he was going to stay with Sam? That prospect made it ten, no a hundred times better. His master would protect him. Not master. Dean. Dean would keep him safe. No interrogations. No drugs. No cryo chamber. Just a centar. With Dean by him, he could do it.

"You don't have to apologize for that, you know? A lot of people were messed up by... by things that happened to them. You saw how full the wards were in the asylum. Trust me, they used to be overcrowded, but a lot of people got the help they needed. You're better than so many of them who are just fine now." Of course everyone had some baggage from Final Destruction, everyone but the youngest children or those born during the fleet's journey. Without thought, he steadied the cup Sin was holding to his mouth, helping him, then letting it go.

Sam smiled weakly at Dean. He didn’t really remember much of the asylum ship, which was probably just as well. He didn’t imagine it was pleasant. He was grateful Dean seemed to understand at least a little and was so supportive. Sipping the coffee with Dean’s help he gave a slight nod. After swallowing the hot liquid he asked quietly, “Did you? Need help?”

Chapter Text

Did you need help? The question echoed in Dean's mind and he went silent as images of his city's destruction assaulted his mind.

He fought to get home, the roads and buildings exploding and crumbling all around him... body parts flying. Waves of dust and debris from collapsed high buildings came like killer waves from all directions, destroying and sweeping away vehicles and people trying to get to safety in a time when there was no safe place. Driving erratically to avoid obstacles, he parked on the luscious green lawn of his parent's house, exited his vehicle and started to run toward the stairs when his mother came out onto the porch and started to come to him. Though she was choking on smoke and dust, her expression reflected relief at seeing him alive.

It wasn't even an explosion, it was laser fire from a Cylon ship. It sliced his mother in half in front of his eyes. Her outstretched hand dropped, then the top of her body slid off the bottom, and both crumpled to the ground.

Dean licked his lips and looked at Sam. "Maybe, but there wasn't time for that. And there were a lot of people worse off." Putting the cup to his mouth, he took a long drink, wishing it was laced with alcohol. "Every time I look into my dad's eyes, I... I feel like I failed him." He'd never told anyone that, not even his dad. But if he was forcing Sin to face his issues, then it was only fair to face his own.
“Failed him? Because you couldn’t stop the Cylons? They had,” Sam swallowed hard, “the codes, they shut down the defense grids. Nothing…nothing could stop them, not armed with that sort of information.” Sam managed to get another sip from his shaking cup then finally looked up. “I’m sure he’s proud of you, fighting the Cylons, surviving to keep fighting and protecting the last of what used to be. Just surviving those horrible times had to be hard. And you’re a Captain. That’s a lot of responsibility, a lot to be proud of. Mike, he respects you a lot and I think that says something, to have the respect of your pilots, your people. I bet you a cubit he’s proud of you. I’d bet more but…a cubit’s a lot for a person like me.” He lightly touched Dean’s cheek with his fingers. “I would be proud of you if you were my son.”

"No, no one could have stopped them. But I could have saved my mother, she was... right there... right there." Dean stretched his arm out as if he was imagining her, then unbuckled his flight straps as the transport ship entered the docking bay. He got up, and the look on his face said it was the end of the discussion. He dumped his cup in the trash, then grabbed Sin's drink so he could unbuckle.

Sam freed himself from the straps and stood. He didn't want to do this. So didn't want to do this. He took his coffee back and reluctantly followed Dean out the door. He paused a moment, glancing toward the lift that would take him back to quarters, back to where he was safe, then looked at the expectant warrior. He swallowed and nodded. He again wanted to take the warrior's hand, feel his warmth and reassurance, but they were on the Galactica now and he didn't want to embarrass him.

"I'd feel better if you'd let me walk a step behind you because I swear to you, if you treat me like I'm an equal, like I'm not your slave, I'll never make it to the doctor's. I'll go back to quarters and hide," Sam said, his voice almost as shaky as his hands had been. He clutched the cup of coffee to his chest, hanging onto it because he had nothing else to hold onto.

"What if I order you to walk beside me, because I want that?" Dean asked, turning his head so he was looking at Sin. Ordering him to his side, now how the fuck was that any different than letting him walk a step behind. His heart sank, as if all the progress they'd made had just been washed away. "Never mind Sin, do whichever you want. A step behind, or to my side, just come with me."

Sam just couldn't bring himself to walk beside Dean because it was taking everything he had to convince himself Dean was his master and his master was making him do this. Otherwise, he wouldn't, plain and simple. He knew Dean was upset with him, but the man didn't understand just how much going to the doctor's was terrifying him. He would be fine walking beside the warrior if they were going shopping or going to the game and meeting his father. No matter that Dean assured him there wouldn't be any interrogations, a part of him just couldn't accept that. They would be asking him questions. How was that not an interrogation?

He followed Dean to the other lifts and was silent all the way to the door of the doctor's office. "I still don't wanna do this," Sam said softly. He hung his head. "I'm still scared," he whispered, ashamed of his weakness.

Dean caught Sin's arm and pulled him up to the door, his eyes drilling intensely into Sin's. "Then think about something else. Think about showering with me after we're done here." He let that sink in for a moment, before activating the opening mechanism for the door and letting Sin decide the moment he'd cross the threshold, his eyes, his entire body language willing the man to take that step.

Showering with Dean. A reward for doing this. Even if they punished him, so long as Dean didn't let them take him away...he gave a nod and tried hard to smile at Dean, but it was probably a weak, sickly smile at best. With a deep breath he walked into the doctor's office and looked around. Seeing the chairs, he walked over to one and sat down. He managed to take a drink of coffee, his hands still shaking, but the fact Dean followed and sat down beside him helped a lot.

Sam looked at the older man, meeting his gaze almost defiantly. "I don't want to be here and I don't want to answer your questions. So...so...let's just get this over with." His voice cracking at the end stole away something of the brave front he was trying to put on.

Dr. Mars pulled his glasses off and walked around his desk, pulling a chair up closer to Sin. "I understand. This is difficult for you, it's to be expected. How are you feeling? Physically. Appetite, sleep patterns, that sort of thing." He focused solely on his patient.

These weren't the type of questions Sam was expecting. "Normal. I'm hungry like normal. I sleep when Dean sleeps. I want to work out more. I haven't been working out enough. I just got the weights so I'm starting to use them, and I got a good workout on the agro ship. I liked it there. I felt...it was like I was planetside. I miss that." Sam paused and knew the more he talked about 'his feelings,' the happier it would make them. "I'm not getting enough sex and that's hard. I'm still confused a lot. Dean helps. He does the right things when I need it. Mostly. When I need to serve he sort of lets me. When I'm more confident, less like a slave, he encourages me, tries to make me make my own choices and stuff. If I get scared...I need to be a slave. Because then, it's okay to be scared." He took another drink of coffee but continued to hold it against his chest when he wasn't drinking from it. "Dean said I could get some plants and fish and a caterpillar. I'm looking forward to having something to take care of like that. I miss animals. I wish I could have something bigger, warm and furry. A feline or small daggit or something. Something warm blooded." He looked at the doctor. "So how do you sleep? Eat. That sort of thing?" Sam tossed back at him suddenly, again that hint of defiance returning to his voice.

The doctor gave a thin smile. "I sleep well and my appetite is fine, thank you for asking. If you have any problems with yours, let me know, we don't want those sorts of things getting in the way of your full recovery." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. "The plants and small animals are a good idea," he nodded. "Let's see how you do with those, and then maybe we can do something about getting you something bigger to take care of. Once you're less... dependent on the Captain."

Dean looked over at Sin, and took a breath. "He's getting th--"

Doctor Mars, raised a hand and shook his head to silence Dean. "Sin, as you sit here right now, what is your greatest fear? Choose only one, one that is present right now. I know it changes throughout the day."

Sam bit his lip. Fear was a powerful tool that could be used against him. His biggest fear he was never going to tell the man. He decided on one that was lesser but still strong and that might help his situation the most. "That Dean will get tired of me and that if I can't ever stop being a slave, he'll make me leave. That he'll abandon me," he finally said. He glanced at Dean, then back at the doctor. It probably wasn't fair to put that burden on Dean, it was selfish even, but he couldn't help it. He knew he wasn't right in the head, but Dean seemed to help him stay grounded. Or better grounded anyhow.

"Alright, let's explore that a bit. How long have you known the Captain? No more than a few days, correct? So why do you think you've grown so attached to him in such a short a period of time?"

Dean knew if questions like that were posed to him, he'd explode. He'd hate it even more if the person they were speaking about was right there, but Sin had said he wanted him there, and so he'd stay until Sin said otherwise.

"My time is all messed up. I guess a couple days. Part of me says he bought me, that he owns me. Part of me...I don't really remember going with him. Choosing to leave with him. He's kind to me. He's saved me twice. Once from Thiros and then he came for me in the asylum. He gave me a second chance. Even after he came for me in the asylum, he didn't have to take me in. He could have just sold me or given me to someone else. Or abandoned me. And there's...something special about him. And he helps me so much. He's willing to come with me when I don't want to do things, like being here, so I'm not as scared. And I think maybe...I, uh," Sam looked down at the floor. There were so many ways to say it, but he didn't want to embarrass the captain. "I like him a lot and there's chemistry between us. I trust him."

"Surely you've had chemistry with others before him, and have known them longer. Is it the hero aspect?"

Dean looked up at the ceiling.

"Captain, no reactions please or I will have to ask you to leave," the doctor whispered without looking at the Captain. "Or is it because he placed the collar on you. If you had to choose one answer only, which is it?"

"Those are both stupid answers," Sam said, glaring at the doctor. "Chemistry is or isn't. Sex is what it is. A time for pleasure. Sometimes there is more chemistry, sometimes there's no chemistry. And we are taught not to show any favoritism. If I have to give you an answer it’s because he's taking care of me and not abandoning me. That's the biggest reason I love him."

Dean had to struggle to quash his reaction even though all the air in his lungs wooshed out of him. Love. Sin had said love. Yeah, he'd known there was more than chemistry but there were a LOT of feelings between like and love, and... He ran a hand through his hair and looked straight at the wall.

Giving an impassive shake of his head, the doctor continued to probe. "Did you love your last caretaker? I understand you were under the care of one man for yahrens, your master. He didn't abandon you... did you love him?"

"The Overseer?" Sam asked incredulously. "He was just the boss. Thiros owned me. They taught me to be a pleasure slave there. They taught me to do all those things. Once I started making them money, they were good to me, but I was still just a thing to them. A useful thing. They'd let the guests do anything they wanted to me for the right price. They had medics that could fix any damage so it didn't matter to them. Only the money mattered. That was my life and I accepted it because I had no other option. But no. The overseer could be skinned alive and I'd probably cheer. Happily sharpen the fracking knife to see it done, and toss some salt into the exposed flesh just for good measure. Same with the trainers. There was no one there I loved. I had a couple clients who were kind to me and who I cared for sort of. I would gladly go live with them, be their slave, but it's different with Dean. We were taught to love our masters when we were sold but," Sam shrugged, "I know if I became a slave to those clients, I wouldn't have loved them, not like I care about Dean."

Putting his palms together, Dr. Mars casually asked. "Do you have a lot of pent up aggression, Sin? Sharpening a knife, tossing salt on a wound. Do you have thoughts like that often? Revenge plots play out in your mind?" He took a deep breath. "It's perfectly normal if you do, I just want to know what's going on inside your head."

Since Dean was thinking he'd have been the one to use the fucking knife, he found himself nodding when the doc said mental plotting was normal. He only caught himself before the doctor realized he was giving his own reactions again.

Although Sam saw Dean nodding, it didn't affect his answer. "To function one must live in the present. They put too much fear in you to strike back. To ever consider acting on thoughts of striking back and ultimately erasing any ability to think of and consider revenge. There are a few clients that I would gladly give a taste of their own medicine. While I was there I would never consider it, but now that I am not bound to them, yeah, I feel like I can think about it. I don't honestly know if I could actually act on any of it. I can fight, I can defend myself, but I was never someone who really held a grudge." Sam huffed in frustration. "Present. I live in the present. I don't really think about those things on a moment by moment basis. Fear is my primary emotion. Not violence, not revenge. If someone hurt Dean...that might be a different matter. I don't know if I have pent up aggression. If you ever get me right in the head, maybe I'll have it then. Right now?" he shook his head. "It's not on my sensor screen."

"And your primary fear is abandonment." They'd come full circle. "What if you didn't have to worry about that? What type of assurance would it take?"

Shaking his head Sam said softly, "I don't think that'll ever go away."

"Ever is a long time." Dr. Mars stroked his chin. "Do you have a happy place? A place that you can think of, a place from either before your arrival or after, one that makes you feel happy and safe. Not a person, Sin, a place."

"A happy place?" Sam looked at the doctor, almost with disgust. "Happiness hasn't been part of my life for yahrens. I enjoyed putting on shows at Thiros and some of the suites were real nice. I liked the garden there. I liked the agro ship here. The place I feel safest is Dean's quarters. My happy place on Thiros was created by little hypo sprays of cajesa. That drug was my happy place. You float. Lost. No concerns, no cares." He gave a small snort. "I don't want to remember the past. I want to look ahead. The agro ship or Dean's, okay? So I'm supposed to put myself in this happy place whenever I start to freak?"

"Yes, exactly. When you feel scared," the doctor nodded. "I also want you to think of that place for five centons before you sleep, when you wake, and at least three times during your day. Complete silence, eyes closed, reach for that place, the comfort, the warmth, the safety. Later, when we talk about your other fears, you'll start to use the happy place to perhaps lessen the severity of your fears."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure thing."

Getting up, Dr. Mars walked around his desk and started to write some notes. "Would you like some medication for anxiety? I don't think you need it most centars, but if you're about to face a new situation or you're feeling anxious, you might want to take something for it."

Sam couldn't help it. He looked at Dean. "Do you think I should?"

"Your choice, Sport." Dean grinned, but refused to make the decision for him.

Sam shuddered a little at the nickname. "Yeah. Sure," he answered, staring at the floor again, practically mumbling his acceptance.

"I'll have some sent to you. Same time tomorrow, for your appointment," the doctor said, continuing to write, then putting the electronic pen down. "If you have any questions or concerns you would like to discuss before you leave, we can do that. And if you would prefer the Captain step out, we can do that as well."

"That's it?" Sam said, shock plain on his face. He looked between Dean and the doctor and hastily he got to his feet. "Uh, no. I'm good. Real good." He rushed for the door and waited impatiently for it to slide aside. He stepped out and got a good ten feet away before stopping and waiting for Dean.

"Captain, you need to be careful and set boundaries. You cannot be his 'happy place' or the first mistake you make, his world will come crashing down on him."

Dean didn't say anything, but he nodded, and walked outside. Surprised Sin wasn't at the door, he headed down the hall to meet up with him. "So? Wasn't as bad as you thought, right?" He licked his lips and searched his face.

"Just glad it's over," Sam said. "And...don't call me 'sport,' I...don't like that. Can we go shopping now? Then we can go back to my 'happy place.'" He mimicked the doctor as he made a face.

"What did you want me to call you, 'sexy'?" Dean chuckled, having called him what his own dad used to call him. Yeah, that was kind of weird. "You do the doc pretty well, should I be afraid of how well you mimic me?" He made a face just thinking of Sam entertaining the troops with Captain Dean imitations. Great, one more thing to worry about.

"Sexy work fine for me. No, wait, you're Captain Sexy. You'll have to come up with a better one for me." He grinned. "I don't know," he paused and mimicked Dean with, "Should you be afraid of how well I mimic you?" He tossed his cup in a recycler as he passed it. The coffee wasn't really hot anymore even though he only drank about half of it.

Dean made a face. "Terrified," he admitted.

* * *

Back in their quarters, Dean sat at his desk reading and responding to various reports, and occasionally looking over at Sin who was carefully putting away his new clothing. "Don't like to shop my ass," he muttered under his breath.

Sam couldn't believe all the clothes they ended up with. When Dean told him how much his stipend was he had stared blankly at Dean for a moment. He would get that much occasionally from the wagers on him, but on Thiros slaves weren't allowed to actually own anything so the only things they could buy was a night in the garden, or drugs, or if you saved enough, a night off. He had spent a relative small fortune on the plant he owned, and it had taken some sneaky twisting of words to even get the Overseer to inadvertently approve it. He wasn't sure the Overseer had ever quite forgiven him for that. The necklace he owned Bistronea had paid an unbelievable amount to convince them to let Sam keep the present. That and the threat that she would not return, nor would any of her clan, and any clan she held sway over. She was an elder matriarch and held sway over a lot of clans so the station finally agreed to it.

He had planned to buy nothing more than a couple shirts and another pair of pants, but when he learned how much money he had coming to him, and at Dean's encouragement, he bought five pairs of pants, twelve shirts, five sets of workout clothes, a pair of swimming trunks, eight pair of underwear and an equal number of socks. He also bought a pair of running shoes, two pair of regular shoes, and another set of boots. When Dean showed him the higher quality clothing stores, he had taken back some of the stuff he had already purchased to buy the more expensive clothing. Then Dean made the mistake of showing him the robotic pet store. Dean limited him to one or he would have probably bought out the store. He finally decided on a robotic kitten with mottled black and white fur and bought it a handful of toys. He bought two pictures in another store. One was a holo of Symphony Falls that had a motion and sound device that he could turn on or off. The motion showed the waters cascading down the various levels of karst topography and the sound was that of the music the falls made from the cascade of the water and whisper of the wind through the stones sounding like an exotic orchestra of woodwinds and percussion. The second picture was a painted picture, Caprin paints, of a forest. Every time you looked at it things would appear or disappear. One time a bird might be on a tree limb, the next time it was gone, or it might be raining, then a glance back showed the sun shining into the painted glade. That picture he had to buy on credit so he would have to pay off over the next several months because it was very expensive. He bought a small wind chime and some music chits. Sam was a little disappointed some of his favorite music wasn't there, but it was alien music not human, so he wasn't really surprised when he thought about it. It was probably for the best anyhow, so as not to be reminded of his time on Thiros. He bought a portable music device to play them on so he could go for runs and listen to music. A small hand held computer and video player were his last purchases.

The robotic kitten was having a grand time playing in all the boxes and bags and had, once shown it was to sleep on Sam's bed or its little bed under Sam's bed, already carried all its toys to its bed. Sam had spent time doing a quick refresh on all the clothes and the kitten scampered after him where ever he went. It had investigated Dean of course, going so far as to jump up on the table and pounce on the comp pad Dean was working on. Sam had immediately retrieved it and scolded it but while it could learn, it was also programmed to be a kitten and Sam suspected that was not going to be the last time it was up on that table. There were commands it could be giving that were absolute, such as no abusing his plant in any fashion, but he was reluctant to do that for the most part. It was too much like giving a slave an order. He had decided to call 'her' Shadow though Dean muttered something about 'Monster' being a more appropriate name.

Once everything was put away or hung by his bed, he laid out the clothes he was going to wear to the game tonight. He played with Shadow for a little while laughing at its antics until the kitten yawned and seemed all played out, promptly choosing Sam's pillow as its bed for its nap. Sam went over to Dean at that point and began massaging his shoulders.

"Thank you Dean. You are a wonderful mast...friend," Sam corrected himself. "Don't forget you promised me a shower." He leaned down and nuzzled Dean's neck, blowing hot breath down his spine.

"Friend, right." Dean closed his eyes, his fingers slipping off the computer pad as Sin worked his magic with his hands, then raised the stakes by brushing his mouth over his neck and lingering there. Watching Sin with the 'kitten,' he knew that even if the robot proved to be as irritating as he feared, it was the right decision. Sin's interactions with it immediately made that obvious. He'd tried not to smile as he watch but didn't know if he'd succeeded. "Mmm," turning his face slightly, he found Sin's lips so close that his own tingled. "You sure you're not too tired? That was a helluvalot of hanging and putting away and petting and... whatever else you were doing with that nuisance. Maybe you want to rest," he teased, not at all surprised that Sin remembered the promise.

Sam brushed his lips over Dean's teasingly. "I know what I'd like to pet now," he whispered, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of Dean's lips, then sucking a moment on Dean's bottom lip. He pulled Dean's chair away from the table and straddled him. "I'm never too tired for sex."

He leaned in and kissed Dean then, no holds barred as he cupped the back of Dean's head and reached down with his other hand to undo Dean's pants.

Dean's breath wooshed out of him. He wrapped an arm around Sin to prevent him from falling back, or so he told himself even as he molded him close and kissed him, pushing his tongue into the warm interior of Sin's mouth, slowly exploring every corner, moaning softly as their tongues tangled. Sin's hand brushed against his groin, making him instantly hard. After indulging for another few centons, Dean broke the kiss and searched Sin's face. "You look... happy," he said, running his thumb over Sin's reddened lips. As Sin's tongue darted our and curled around his thumb for a micron, another sound broke from the back of the Captain's throat. "This... this qualifies as 'showering?'"

"I am happy. I have more than I ever imagined I would have again. I have a warm place to sleep, blankets, clothes that I got to choose, a cat, which, I'll admit, I never would have imagined myself with a cat, my own music player, pictures, even a wind chime. My mom always liked wind chimes. She must have had twenty of them on the back porch. I got to wade in a pond today, and see ducks and fish and even a butterfly. I have a lover, not a client. I have a home and that's...well I never could have imagined that. I don't have to deal with any doctors until tomorrow and I get to take a shower with one of the best looking guys on the ship." He kissed Dean and chuckled. "Of course this qualifies as showering. You do have to get undressed to shower you know. We're just starting out here instead of in there. That bathroom is kind of cramped for two guys of our size." He stroked Dean's cock, grinning at the double entendre.

Sin's words washed over him and he couldn't deny that they made him happy too, gave him a sense of elation. "Lover, not client, I like that Sin... like it a lot," he said hoarsely, lifting his hips to push his cock harder into Sin's fist, moaning against his throat. "Undressing... so this is what this is, okay." He enjoyed the sensations coursing through his body, the ache building low in his belly, Sin's warmth against him, his scent surrounding him. As he shoved his hand under Sin's shirt and started to push it up his body, Dean knew he was losing his battle to remain detached, to be a friend, only a friend, even to do only what was best for Sin. "Get up baby, lemme take your clothes off," he said, wanting... needing to run his hands over Sin's flesh.

Sam laughed. "So very impatient. You really need to learn to take your time." An evil grin slid onto Sam's face. "Sure, you can take my clothes off. But first you hafta catch me."

Pushing himself abruptly to his feet, he spun Dean's chair hard as he danced back. There was barely any space to chase each other so Sam knew it wouldn't be much of a challenge for Dean to catch him, but he still had to tease him.

"I am not impatient," Dean countered, coming off the spinning chair. "Or if I am, it's your fault." His gaze tracked Sin, and he shook his head. "You know, this would be more challenging if you were naked and oiled... then you'd slip out of my grip, but like that..." He gave an evil laugh and the chase was on.

"I could always go dashing out the door if you want a challenge," Sam countered.

Things fell off the counters, chairs got pushed, but there was really nowhere to go. The instant Sin got on the bed, Dean launched himself at him, and both of them slid half way off it, their hands on the floor preventing them from going over. They were laughing so hard Dean thought his gut would split open. He kissed the back of Sin's neck, then his shoulders over his clothes. "One thing. When you said you weren't getting enough sex, just how much sex do you need?" he asked, panting against his throat.

Sam was still trying to stop laughing but Dean's lips on the back of his neck had the blood rushing southward and his breath catching. He barely heard Dean as he arched against those lips. After a moment he sorted out Dean's question.

"Couple times a day. At least," Sam said. If he could get Dean to have sex with him at least once a day, that would make him happy. More than that would be even better. Sex with Dean just kept getting better and better it seemed.

He reached around behind Dean and squeezed his ass and ground back against him with a small moan. "Undress me baby," he begged. "I want to feel your skin against me, sliding over mine. I want you balls deep fucking me."

"So impatient," Dean answered, rocking against Sin's hard ass, then pulling up onto his knees and rolling him over. Eyes locked together, he single-mindedly stripped Sin, undoing his pants, scooting down and getting rid of his socks, then pulling the pants off with one strong tug.

Dean stripped down to his briefs and crawled back up Sin's body, trailing hot kisses up his thighs and over his briefs, then catching the hem of his shirt, pulled it up and off Sin the instant Sin lifted up for him. He licked his lips, his gaze now roving over Sin's perfect body, then coming back to his face. "So beautiful," he said thickly, straddling Sin's hips and lowering over him, dropping down to give him an open mouthed kiss that held the promise of so much more. One hand on the side of Sin's cheek, he moved the man's face from side to side as he pushed his tongue in and out, stroking, teasing, mapping out the inside of his lover's mouth, memorizing his taste and feel. No one had ever affected him like this. No one ever made him feel so out of control, unable to clamp down on his desires and needs, and that included his teen age yahrens. Sin was special, and yeah, Dean wondered if it had to do with the man's experience, but his gut told him it went beyond that, to places he'd never acknowledged existed.

Sam loved the way Dean called him beautiful. Yeah, maybe that was all sorts of chick-like, but it still made his heart swell with happiness that he pleased Dean. He didn't want to analyze if that was the slave or the man thinking that because it didn't matter. Happy was happy. Eagerly Sam kissed him back, held Dean close and rubbed against him in all the right places. He pretended he had to seduce Dean and used all those sweet talents to taunt and tease the man even as he groaned into his lover's mouth.

His fingers raked down Dean's back as he pushed his hard member up against Dean's stomach. Sliding his hands beneath the waistband of Dean's briefs he caressed and massaged the firm muscles of his ass. He was so damned good looking, his body all sorts of muscle, yet he loved to play and chase and it made Sam feel like all his troubled memories disappeared while under the gaze, under pursuit, of the man laying over him now. When he finally had to come up for air, he whispered in Dean's ear. "Sometimes impatient is good."

"Yeah?" He took a deep breath, "Okay then."

Dean kissed his way down Sin's chest and his abs, sucking his flesh into his mouth, leaving red marks as he went. His fingers curled around the hem of his briefs and he pulled them down, one side at a time, immediately licking Sin's cock from base to tip the micron it was revealed. Sin helped push the briefs off and Dean was back to teasing and licking his cock. His own dick was hard and heavy between his legs and suddenly he was with Sin, sometimes fast was good. "Pass the lube," he snapped out as he continued to work Sin's cock with his mouth and hand.

"Yes sir, Captain Dean," Sam teased. Dean did so like to give commands.

When Sin stretched out to get it from the night stand, the play of his rippling muscles had Dean's stomach clenching. He took the lube from him and applied some to Sin's cock then drizzled some down toward his hole. One hand stroking Sin's now slick cock, he used the other to start opening him up, pushing his thumb slowly inside as he kept his gaze fixed on his lover's face.

He didn't really need the lube, but Sam had to admit it felt nicer, burned less when Dean pushed inside him and when he felt Dean's thumb at his hole, he clenched a little, offering just enough resistance to make it good for them both. The feel of Dean's hand sliding over his cock had him moaning and beginning to thrust his hips into that now slick channel. "So good," he murmured.

After yahrens as a pleasure slave he was used to responding strongly to his clients, to giving them the show they wanted no matter how bad they might be at pleasuring him. With Dean it was no show. When Dean rubbed over his prostate he gasped and bucked sharply into Dean's hand. Since Dean was out of reach he fisted the bedspread in his hands and arched his neck, wanting more, begging for more, but only begging with his body as groans of pleasure whispered from his lips.

He loved Sin's reactions, every one of them, the way his face contorted slightly, the way he showed his straight white teeth when things got intense, the way he thrashed and the sensual way he moved. Dean thought he'd never get enough of it, ever. He could see Sin was ready for him, sooner than he'd have thought so he wasn't about to torture either one of them for no reason. Not now.

Need thickened his blood and had it pounding at his temples. Dean moved, kneeling between Sin's legs instead of straddling him, and got rid of his own briefs. He closed his hand around is own cock and stroked hard and fast, using his lube slicked hand and staring at Sin, his eyes burning with his desire and leaving no doubt as to what he was imagining. When he was hard enough, he leaned in, gave Sin a hard kiss, then pulled back and lightly slapped the tops of his thighs. "Knees over my shoulders," he ordered, having made up his mind about on just how he would have Sin.

Sam watched Dean with pure lust and love in his eyes, seeing the pulse at his throat quicken and hearing how Dean's breaths increased, he was so very ready for him. He practically devoured Dean's mouth when their lips met and he wrapped his arms around Dean's back, holding him there for that split micron longer than Dean wanted, making him wait just that extra fraction of time. Then he let him go and grinned as he put his legs just where Dean wanted them. He would rather have his legs wrapped around Dean's waist helping to pull him in deeper, giving him better leverage, but this time he wanted it to be what Dean wanted, exactly how he wanted it. Sam waited eagerly for the large cock to press in and fill him up. Just as with Dean's thumb, he clenched just enough so it gave Dean all the pressure he could want on his cock when he finally sheathed it inside Sam. Sam moaned in delight at the feel of lover inside him. His own cock ached for pressure again but he resisted the urge to stroke himself, wanting Dean to do it, to give every bit of control of his pleasure over to him. He knew there was nothing in the Twelve Worlds like having that complete control over your lover's pleasure.

As Dean brought them together, as he buried himself inside Sam, it was everything Sam wanted in that instant. They were joined so intimately and Dean just stayed there barely moving, as Sam rippled his inner muscles, rolling them up Dean's cock. He could see Dean absorbing it all, holding back and just feeling the desire and lust, letting it fill him, holding it all back until the dam finally broke.

One arm across the front of Sin's thighs, the other across his abs, pulling Sin up flush against his body, Dean bit his lower lip as a groan tore from the back of his throat. Buried deep inside the heat of Sin's body, he held tight, hardly moving, torturing himself as the only movement and pressure he allowed himself was one sided, with Sin squeezing and releasing his inner muscles around Dean's cock. Dipping his head down, he kissed Sin's inner thigh, pressing his mouth harder against his flesh as he rode out a wave of need that screamed at him to start fucking, but stubbornly he held out. "I'm dying to have you," he whispered thickly. "Need you so fucking much right now."

"Then take me," Sam said. "I give myself to you freely, by my choice, Dean. I want you to need me more than you need to breathe, I want you to desire me more than anything else. At least for this moment, I want to be your universe, the only thing that matters. Look at me, tell me that for this instant in time those things are true, then every need you have, I'll fulfill."

It took every ounce of Dean's control to hold that position when every cell in his body was screaming for him to start fucking, to take Sin, to take him right now. He kissed his thigh one more time, feeling his forehead bead with moisture at the effort of holding back. Lifting his face, Dean locked eyes with Sin. Inside Sin's fathomless eyes, he saw his own passion reflected back, lust, need... and something else. Peace? Something elusive. Something he wanted, needed to share. He licked his lips and let out a hot breath. "Sin, right here, right now, I want you so bad I can't think about anything else. Just you. You're my world, and there's nothing beyond," he said, meaning every word more than all the compliments he'd ever spewed to get women into his bed. "Just you. Mine," he added, knowing it was dangerous, but unable to stop himself.

As the words spilled from Dean's mouth, Sam could see they came from his soul as well. Dean wanted him, loved him, and even if when tomorrow came, that was no longer true, it didn't matter because for this tiny slice of time, it was true. The 'now' was everything to Sam and in the 'now' there was only Dean. "Yours," he confirmed.

Tightening his muscles, he lifted himself and began to ride Dean's cock, lifting and squeezing while he kept his gaze locked with that of his lover's. In his eyes he showed Dean the depth of what those words meant to him. He froze, then jack-knifed up, wrapping his arms around Dean as he captured Dean's mouth. It was sheer agonizing pleasure for them both he knew, both wanting to feel Dean slide in and out, but neither willing to give up the sweet flavor of the others' mouth. Sam finally broke the kiss and uncurled, laying back on the bed and, with a single tightening and relaxing of his leg muscles, he encouraged Dean to finish taking him as he readied himself to ride out every thrust with a perfect counter-thrust.

Dean's lips burned with Sin's kisses. He missed his taste the moment he dropped back onto the bed, but his body received Sin's silent message loud and clear. Giving a sharp nod, he moved his hands, curling his arms around each of Sin's powerful thighs, then pulling almost all the way out of his lover, he thrust hard, simultaneously lifting him closer. Heat washed over him in waves each time he drove his cock into Sin, moaning out his pleasure, and never looking away from his lover's eyes. He fucked harder, and faster, aiming for Sin's prostate... but Sin made it so easy, twisting a little as if helping him to find it. "So beautiful," he said, dipping his face down to kiss Sin's inner thigh again, but lifting his head up almost immediately as need started to ride him like a bitch.

"Angh... fuck," Dean moved backwards on his knees, pulling Sin with him, then got off the bed, never allowing Sin's legs to fall off his shoulders. Standing next to the bed, he started to lift Sin up by his thighs, each time he thrust and used gravity to help him fuck harder, burying himself inside Sin over and over. "So good... so good baby," he started to mutter, to say things that were unintelligible, but it was like Sin wanted... there was only Sin now, just him.

Dean was perfect. Sam knew what Dean wanted, needed, intended, almost before he did it. He let his cries of pleasure echo in the room as Dean thrust into him. He lifted and pushed, tightened inside as he tightened outside. It was almost a desperation that drove Dean, he could see it. Dean needed this as much as he did. He needed the feel of another's touch, the touch of someone who cared more about their lover than about themselves or their own needs. They both needed that human connection, that intimate touch of the other's soul, that possession, obsession, branding each other with the fire that burned inside each of them.

Sam began to arch a little, more and more each time Dean thrust, tightening a little harder each time and releasing that tight clenching just before it would bring Dean to orgasm. He made Dean work harder, try harder to find that last little bit. The sounds his lover made were as pleasure filled as his own. He finally relented, almost unable to hold his own seed back any longer. He arched and thrust up against Dean, burying Dean deeply inside him as he clenched hard, feeling his own balls draw up tightly. He shouted his lover's name as his seed spewed from him in scorching ropes of ecstasy.

The sight of Sin coming was Dean's undoing. His back arched and stiffened, the ache low in his belly sharpening, winding tighter and tighter, and then it was like a dam burst. He was coming deep inside his lover, thrusting a few more times, filling Sin, feeling his seed spill out and down their legs. All the while, he was saying Sin's name, over and over, pressing his mouth into Sin's thigh to still the flow of words until he found himself.

Pulling Sin's legs off his shoulders, he started to climb back on the bed as Sin moved back on it. Dipping his head down, he licked across Sin's stomach, tasting his cum, salty and sweet, and giving a sound of pleasure. "Perfect. It.... you... perfect," he said, and proceeded to lick him clean. Only when he was done did he climb up Sin's body and hovered over his face. "Thank you, for giving yourself to me," he said, brushing his lips across Sin's.

Watching Dean's tongue slide across his skin, feeling his hot breath, and hearing his sounds of delight, it was almost enough to make Sam hard all over again. Perfect. When Dean was looking down at him, Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's body and brought Dean down on top of him. He smiled at Dean's words and kissed him hard and deeply. When he finally had to come up for air he ran his hand along Dean's cheek. "We gave ourselves to each other. That's the way it should be between lovers. Nothing should matter but the pleasure of the other."

Pulling Dean closer to him, he kissed the man's neck, nuzzling and licking away the sweat, lightly biting and sucking. The little love nips would leave the barest of red marks for a very brief period of time. He rolled Dean over onto his back and began making slow love to every inch of his body. Slowly caressing him, kissing him, taking his time, not necessarily intent on trying to get Dean hard again. He simply wanted Dean to feel needed and loved and cared about, the way Dean made him feel. He had promised he would fill every need Dean had and was going to make sure he kept good on his promise.

Dean moaned, and reached for Sin, his hands moving through silky soft hair, and over his back as he was kissed and licked and touched in ways he'd never imagined. "How do you do this to me?" he asked thickly as his body started to come back alive and he actually started to think about missing the card game. He writhed under Sin, then pulled him back up his body. "You make me forget everything. Promises. Good intentions. Good sense. And if my dad wouldn't kick my ass over it, I'd say screw going out..." He kissed Sin hard, then rested his forehead against Sin's. "I'm thinking about it..."

"Isn't that what Sin is all about?" Sam chuckled softly, settling against Dean. "We could screw going out, but it would make quite a scene in the hall being half naked and all." He laughed at Dean's look. "No, I think it would be good for me to get out to a new place. It scares me. I'm comfortable here, comfortable with myself and with you. I would really really prefer to stay in, but for all the wrong reasons. And I guess that means you need to drag me out of here." He sighed softly. "And I would kind of like to meet your father and other friends. I'm not sure how I'm going to react to seeing a poker game where I'm not a chip on the table. More importantly...how's your dad going to react to me?"

"Uh huh," Dean agreed reluctantly that they should go. He was stroking Sin's hair as he thought, and answered. "If you play, maybe it will reinforce you're not a chip. As for dad..." He let out a breath. "If you're not all over me, then he'll probably look you over and then forget all about you. And if you are all over me, then he'll probably pull me to the side for a talk, look you over... and then forget all about you." He gave a chuckle. "But trust me, you'll be on his radar at all times. He just... he's kind of a tough guy, you know?"

"Reinforce I'm not up for bid. Yeah, maybe it will," Sam said thoughtfully. "Or it might just make me confused, make me think that if you needed to you would put me up as part of the stakes. You'll need to keep an eye on me in case...in case I start looking like a scared rabbit or something." Yeah, Sam had to admit that did make him nervous. He had been bartered in too many poker games and the thought that Dean might wager his ownership sent a finger of icy fear right down his spine. Dean would never do that but...too much of him still believed he was a slave and nothing more than property to be bought, sold, or wagered with. And it scared him. He wanted to stay at Dean's. He also knew if the doctors learned Dean was going to take him to a poker game they would vehemently forbid it. But Sam had to start facing at least some of his demons and he trusted Dean. Mostly.

So he hid his fears and doubts behind a smile, mischief entering his eyes. "Ooooh, but making you get a scolding from your father, now that sounds like fun. The great Captain Dean dressed down like a five yahren old." He laughed delightedly. "I won't do it, but only because your friends will be there. Not because I don't want to see you get a scolding from your dad." His faced turned more serious. "But don't ever forget promises and duty to others because of me. I'm not worth that." He put his fingers to Dean's lips before Dean could protest. "I'm not saying I don't think I have value. I'm saying a man's honor and word are important, that's all. I know I'm important to you. I know you value me and want what's best for me. But don't let those psych techs and doctors tell you what's best for me. If we hadn't done this, if I wasn't finding comfort and love in your arms, I don't know that I could face going to the poker game. This is helping me, Dean, not hurting me. Yeah, maybe there's a part of me that needs this to believe I have value as a pleasure slave so that you'll keep me. But there's a bigger part, at least I think it's bigger, that's helping me reconnect with who I once was. When we're alone, I feel more secure, I feel more able to let my defenses down and that lets me...find myself. I'm not saying that you have to love me forever. I just need you to love me now, okay? Just like I need you to keep me now and let me be your slave because," and he shook his head, "I am so not ready to face this all alone."

"You don't have to face anything alone. I'm here," Dean nodded. "I'm whatever you need right now." There were limits, he wasn't going to hurt Sin, do anything that he truly believed might be detrimental to him. Yeah, he'd crossed some lines already, but in his gut, he knew Sin was right, having sex with him, maybe even a relationship, it wasn't hurting as much as it was helping. Maybe at some point in the future that might change and Sin might be better off finding himself alone, but that time hadn't come yet. And maybe when that time came, Dean would have his own demons to fight. Something told him the protectiveness he felt for Sin, the connection... it was much more than he'd thought at first. Much deeper.

"Let's go take that shower I promised you."

Chapter Text

Asking Dean about how his clothes looked, Sam got a short answer that he was dressed fine, and then heard Dean muttering something under his breath about what would happen if Sam asked 'if the pants made his ass look fat...' That had almost made Sam laugh but he knew Dean didn't get it. He wasn't used to wearing so much in the way of clothing when going to a private poker game. Sure he would wear layers for stripping as he entertained attendees, but to just wear regular clothes, that felt weird.

He stayed close to Dean on the new ship. The halls were narrower and the place was a lot grungier than the Galactica but the people seemed just as friendly if not friendlier. Still Sam was nervous and stayed half a step behind Dean, staying as close to him as he could without running the man over. He tended to keep his eyes down and he hunched over a little as if trying to make himself smaller so as not to be as readily noticed. He hadn't chewed his nails since he was like eight yahrens old, but it was all he could do not to start up that old habit. He kept reminding himself he needed to do this, he needed to get out, but old memories tried to work their way in, old memories that he stubbornly denied. He was Sin. No one would remember Sam. He didn't want anyone to remember Sam. When they looked at him, Sin was all he wanted them to see.

When they reached the doorway to the large hall, Dean waited. "Sin, come on. It's just like the doctor thing, remember how you were surprised it was over and not too painful?" He looked pointedly at the spot next to him, waiting for Sin to join him.

Sam reluctantly stepped up beside Dean. Looking in the large hall he was surprised since he'd expected a small private poker game with a couple people around a table. Instead there were about fifteen tables with people playing cards. There was a roulette wheel, and a couple tables where dice were being thrown. Other games were being played at other tables, games he remembered from his time before. A couple of electronic dart boards flashed as the darts of various players struck their surface and a cracking sound drew his attention to an area where pool tables had been set up. There were some electronic shooting games and music could be heard over the murmur of voices. It was obvious all the games and tables were readily collapsible. He realized it made sense that a ship might have its own gambling den. People couldn't go over to the gambling ship Dean had mentioned, the Rising Star all the time. People needed to be able to spend a little time on their off hours with some recreational games available to them without spending a whole shift away from their ship. From what Mike had said, it sounded as if this gambling area was set up periodically. That would make it an additional treat for people.

As Sam wondered whether the ship had more than just this one hall, he realized he was surprised not to see pleasure slaves everywhere. There were obviously couples but no one but himself had a collar. People were smiling and laughing and no one took particular notice of him and that was odd too. He was accustomed to heads turning, eyes following him, lusting after him. But here he was just another person. A few women did look up and notice him, but they noticed Dean as well and Sam couldn't help himself, shifting so he blocked some of the more obviously appreciative glances given to his captain. He saw Mike and grinned at him, giving a discreet wave. He had thirty cubits to gamble with, so he wouldn't be able to play any of the high stakes games.

Across the room, Sam saw one of his favorite games being played. A discus game where you slid the disks across the smooth surface of the table and tried to land them in the center target or to knock your competitors out of the rings while keeping your disk in the center. He hadn't played it in yahrens and it hadn't been available at Thiros. He tugged lightly on Dean's shirt sleeve. "Can I go play that?" he asked excitedly. He used to be very good at it and he imagined he would be rusty but he wanted to try. All these games, they were so familiar, but few were of the sort that was played on Thiros. He started to remember gambling halls where he was a player, and wasn't being played for and was surprised when the memories brought a comfort he hadn't expected to feel out among so many strangers, especially in a gambling hall.

Dean had been greeting people and exchanging a few words here and there, but mostly monitoring Sin to make sure he was alright. He liked seeing excitement light up his eyes, and that suddenly careless look he got.... as if he forgot everything he feared. "Discus? Discus is your game?" Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I'll come watch," he said, following along. He wanted to see this, the poker game would go on for centars and could wait.

They reached the gaming table and the red head running it gave them a brilliant smile. "Captain. And this must be Sin," she said, looking at the man who was the newest addition to the human fleet and big news, though everyone had been told to keep it low key when dealing with him. "Playing or watching?"

A part of Sam was surprised she knew who he was, but at the same time everyone knew him on Thiros, so it almost seemed normal. It still made him falter just a moment. He finally nodded. "Sin. Yes," he said politely. "I'd like to play but it's been a really long time. Could I have a couple practice slides to make sure I'm not going to make a complete fool of myself?"

Yeah, it was something of a lie. It had been a long time, and he did want to see if he had lost his touch, but more he wanted to test the friction, get the lay of the table and test the weights of the discus. Different sections of the table were designed to have different levels of friction, offer slight curves or rough spots, making the game harder. The higher the stakes, the more elaborate the table's surface tended to be, including magnetic repulsors, curves, all sorts of things. He had been in more than a couple championships. He had only won a few, but his skill had been known. For an 'occasional' player, he had been very very good. This table was a simple low stakes table, straight chute, a couple curved frictional patches colored in pastels indicating the severity of the friction.

"We normally will permit a player new to the table three slides. But you can have five," she said, giving a wink to Dean.

Sam nodded his thanks and took the discs she handed him. He spun the first disc, watching for wobble and imbalances. Most had slightly offset centers of gravity, even in the low stakes arena. After spinning it a few times he studied the table. It was older and faint scratches could be seen along the standard routes people tossed. The first disc he slid he shook his head immediately. Too hard. It hit the rear bumper and bounced through and back out of the target circles. The red head removed the disc. Sam spun the next one, got a feel for it, then slid it, putting a twist on it. Frack. He knew that was a bad slide as soon as it left his hand. It careened into one side wall, then the other, sliding through a friction patch. It ended up touching one of the outer rings, but wasn't far enough in to be a point. Sam was really glad she had given him five throws. The next one spun off his fingers and he grinned immediately. That had the right feel. It glided down the lane, ricocheting from a side bumper, through a friction patch and came to rest solidly in the three point space. Okay, not as good as he had hoped, but at least he scored. It being in a point ring, the gambling attendant let it stay on the table. Sam spun the next one down the lane, knocked the first one into the next point ring for an additional three points and the new discus landed in the five point region. So eleven points, one disc left. He doubted he could nail a straight shot into the nine point ring. There was a day he would have tried, but his touch was still too rusty for that. The next best move would be to nail that three point disc again and try to score another five point ring. That would give him eighteen, and that was a two thirds ringer and paid out the best for what he had to work with. Sure, he wasn't gambling yet, but he had to pretend he was. After testing out the discus, he spun it down the lane. He hit the three pointer, but didn't knock it hard enough to get it into a fresh ring, and the new disc slid just far enough out of the five point ring not to count. He lost a point for the hit without a new score ring, and nothing for the final disc. Frack. A ten. He'd get a cubit, regardless of his bet.

Sam gave the woman a nod and laid down two cubits on the three block. He had to score a point total divisible by three to win anything. The first game he lost. The next two he won back a total of five, but at two cubits a bet, he was down one. He played several more slides and ultimately walked away with an extra twelve cubits.

He smiled at Dean. "I used to be a lot better," he said, but was still pleased. He knew he would enjoy a multiplayer game, but he was content for now. Maybe a little later he would come back and try his hand at it again. "So where to now?"

"You did great," Dean grinned back. He'd been watching silently, trying not to remind Sin of his presence. He liked to see him looking so self assured, making his own decisions and interacting with others with ease. He thought if he spoke, he might break the spell. "I think it's your game, we'll have to come back and clean her out. Besides... she liked you," he winked. He wasn't kidding, but he also wasn't jealous... mostly because Sin hadn't really shown interest in the chick.

Sam glanced back at her. She wasn't bad looking at all. "She's not my type," he told Dean, leering discreetly at Dean.

Looking around, Dean pointed. "Bar. Then dad, c'mon," he said slapping Sin on the arm as he headed for the bar. "I'll have some grog, and an extra special drink for my friend here. As girly and ..." he waved his hand around in the air, "...fluffy and colorful, as you can make it. That's how he likes them."

Sam glared at the warrior beside him. "I'll have ambrosa. The most expensive you've got. And you can put it on his tab."

Ow, that would hurt. Glaring right back, Dean turned to the bartender. "Ambrosa... so long as you 'girl it up.'" The way he shoved his card across the bar implied there would be a good tip in it for the bartender.

The bartender put a bottle of grog in front of Dean, and brought the ambrosa to Sin in a glass. Then he lifted up two trinkets. "Sparkling umbrella, or chiming bells?" he asked.

"One of each," Dean suggested.

"Keep it up and I'll tongue fuck you in front of your dad," Sam murmured, but accepted the 'girlified' drink. He was used to receiving all sorts of concoctions and being treated as the 'girl' for the night. He'd never admit it, but he did like the little bells and he would be certain to ring them that night back in the quarters. Ring them until Dean regretted ever getting them for him he decided smugly. As for the umbrella, he got a sly smile, walked back over the table he'd been playing at and with a flourish, handed the girl the sparkling umbrella. "Not that this would ever outshine you, but maybe it will make you smile all the same."

After handing it to her he headed back to Dean, being certain to make the bells jingle brightly as he took a sip of the ambrosa...and nearly spit it out. By the Lords! He didn't think this could be aged more than a few yahrens. Instead he swallowed and smiled at Dean, taking another sip. A fluffy girlie drink was sounding better and better.

"So. Your dad?" he smiled charmingly at Dean, showing his dimples and looking completely innocent.

"Stop looking so pleased with yourself." Okay, so Sin had in fact won that round, damn him. How could he go from innocent and fearful into a blood hunting sharkfish in no time? "And don't... tongue fuck me in front of him, or you know... anywhere around him. But there are bathrooms..." Yeah, he was kidding, but once he spoke the words, he was pretty sure that the idea would take hold and he'd end up doing something he regretted.

Sam chuckled as he walked with Dean toward a poker table. Two point score on his part as far as he was concerned. Maybe even a three pointer. He got Dean back for girling his drink, got him jealous, put the idea of some serious kissing into his head, and made him nervous Sam might actually do that to him in public. Okay, that was four points.

He surveyed the table they were headed to. A dusky blonde man chewing on a cigar sat in one chair. He was a looker with bright eyes and he oozed charm and gambler and ladies man. He was a member of Blue squad based upon his uniform. Mike was there and that had Sam grinning. Someone he knew. There was a brown haired woman, something of a delicate face, in command blue, but he saw she wore flight insignia. So she was command but flew if needed. That made sense if they were lean on experienced pilots. There was another dark haired warrior by the blonde. Dean's dad then must be the man with his back to them. He was in command blue as well, but Dean said he flew, too. Command crew flying, it was an odd concept, but he recalled it was something the warriors had often done out on the rim with limited crew.

Mike gave the approaching men an easy grin. "Dean, Sin."

All eyes, except John's, immediately turned to the pair, or more accurately to Sin.

Before Dean introduced them to Sin, they started to introduce themselves. "Starbuck. Welcome aboard," Starbuck spoke around his cigar.

"Apollo," the dark haired warrior by Starbuck said, "and this is Mike."

"We've met." Mike nodded toward the woman with them. "This is Sheba."

Cursing, John tossed his cards onto the table. "Fold." Pushing his chair from the table and turning it slightly, he started to turn and push up out of it. "About time, I was about to send a squadron out after..." John's eyes darted past Dean, then focused on Sin. He blanched, and slowly sat back down, his gaze never wavering.

"Dad?" Dean took a step toward his father. "This is ... ah..."

"Sam of the Wesson clan. Captain. Twice decorated. Once... posthumously." John took a deep breath. "Or that wasn't gold elixir in my glass." He ran a hand through his greying temples, narrowing his eyes on the man in front of him. "You his son?" But no, there was recognition in the man's eyes. "How is this possible? You were captured. How?" His question sounded more like a demand.

Sam stared at his former commander. The one who abandoned him. The one he believed would send rescue, freeing him from the Cylons' torture chambers. The man he had considered his best friend. The man he had loved like a brother. The man he had cursed. The man he had grown to hate those yahrens in the Cylons hands. Months actually, since they had kept him in cryo-suspension most of the time between the times he was thawed out. But yahrens had passed. Sam had betrayed the Colonies' Outer Rim, had given up the information when he simply couldn't hold out against the torture any longer...when he lost hope he would ever be rescued.

The glass shattered in Sam's hand. He didn't even feel it. Rage. Rage was all he felt. Abandoned. Tortured. Betrayed. Sam strode forward and caught Dean's father with a solid right hook, sending him backward onto the table. "You left me! You abandoned me! You son of a bitch! They tortured me. They froze me. They sold me into slavery when I finally wasn't any good to them anymore!" He grabbed John's shirt and yanked him up, pounding his fist into the older man's face as tears streamed down his own and his shouted accusations turned into sobs.

"Sin!" It took that long for Dean to come out of his frozen state and go after Sin, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He was surprised his father hadn't yet taken a return shot, but there was history there. That much was clear. "Calm down, now."

John rolled off the table, stood up and waved security back. Running a hand over his bloodied face, he was still staring at Sam, absorbing the impossible, trying to process it. "I failed you," he gave a sharp nod. "But I never abandoned you." He'd almost called the man who had once been his contemporary, 'son.'

"Days, weeks passed," Sam said. "I knew you'd come. I knew you would. Never leave anyone behind," Sam spat at him. "You didn't come. And when you failed, I failed because I gave in. I couldn't...the pain. Oh gods, the pain. I gave them the codes. I gave them everything..." Sam sank to his knees, his mind trying desperately to shove all the terrible memories back where they belonged. Forgotten. He wanted them forgotten. He only wanted to be Sin. Even if the name reminded him of the sins he had committed against the Colonies. "...and then they put me in cryo. Pulled me out. Asked me questions. I told them answers then too. I don't remember if I lied. Then back in cryo. So cold. So fracking cold..." he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, lost in his memories, lost back in the Cylon cells as he rocked just a little, seeking some sort of comfort in that motion. He bowed his head and softly cried. "I gave them everything..." he whispered.

"Sam of the Wesson clan." The name rolled off Dean's tongue. He knew it well, as did most humans. Just as his father bent down to pull Sin... no Sam... up, Dean shook his head, "Dad, let me."

"Samuel, let's go talk." Ignoring his son, a visibly shaken John started to haul Sam to his feet.

Dean looked between the two men, the things Sin had said rolling around in his mind... pieces of the puzzle.

Sam felt the hand on his biceps, heard the voice. Heard his name. Samuel. He exploded upward and shoved the man back. "I'm Sin!" he screamed at the man. He turned and ran from the room, gasping as the tears flowed down his face. He ran until he reached the docking bay where he sat in the darkest corner he could find and wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees. "Sin. I'm Sin," he repeated over and over.

"Don't," Dean pointed at his dad and warned him off, then chased after Sin. The crowds had parted in Sin's wake, so it was easy to follow his trail. Entering the docking bay, Dean stopped, looked around, and saw Sin on the ground. Walking more slowly toward him, he felt his throat close up at hearing the sobbed words.

When he reached him, Dean sat down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulder, trying to pull him over into his arms but not forcing it. "Let's go home S... Sin. I'll take care of you, of this, okay?" He closed his eyes, and looked up at the metal roof. Things had just gotten complicated times a hundred. Sin knew his dad... no... he was a contemporary of his father. Now Dean knew what he meant when he said he'd been abandoned. Now he knew the type of torture and mind breaking he'd gone through. And now he understood the shame that sometimes peaked out when he'd tried to get Sin to tell his real name. This was the hero who'd given up the codes to the rim world, but who'd never understand what a key role he'd played in saving humanity. "I have things to tell you. Things I hope will make you feel better. Sin?" He tried again to tug Sam's stiff body closer.

Sam felt Dean’s touch and the comforting arm. He wanted to shut down, he wanted to forget everything. He wanted only to be Dean’s slave, Sin. He wanted Dean to own him and for all his history to be burned to ash, just like the worlds he had failed. Now he remembered why warriors frightened him. Now it was clear why he didn’t want to go out. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him and his betrayal. But now it was known. Now he was known, and no matter how deeply he buried his memories, it couldn’t, wouldn’t be forgotten.

They would arrest him. They would try him. He…he couldn’t go back to living in a cell. He would beg for the death penalty. He didn’t want to die, but if it was a choice between death and imprisonment, he would chose death. Maybe…maybe they would consider enslavement sufficient punishment?

Sam finally let Dean pull him close. Almost emotionlessly he asked, “How soon will they come to arrest me? Could…would they consider letting me stay in your custody as your slave…if you even want me anymore. I—I understand if you don’t.”

"No one is going to arrest you. No one, dammit, look at me," Dean pulled back and waited until he could look into hazel eyes shrouded in layers of pain. "No one is going to arrest you, I promise you. You said you trust me, well trust me now. Let me get you home, where you feel safe. And we'll talk." He licked his lips. "I do... I do want you."

How could Dean still want him after learning who he was and what he had done? But he didn't question. Dean had never hurt him, had always been kind to him except when he first had refused to keep him and they had taken his collar and he knew he was going to die. He should have let them kill him then. Then he would have just been a stranger, a slave named Sin. He didn't think Dean was lying to him but could he simply want Sam to...punish him? Fear chilled him but he stayed leaning against Dean. It was beyond his control. It was always beyond his control. Ever since the Cylons had taken him, his life had no longer been his own. Except maybe a brief few times with Dean when Dean let him do what he wanted. When Dean had let him be...Sam.

"Sin, come with me?" Dean asked, kissing the broken man's temple. "Please."

"Of course," Sam said softly. He wouldn't deny Dean anything. He couldn't. Even acknowledging who he really was, he was also Sin the slave, and Dean was his owner. He had to hold onto that right now or he thought he might just shatter.

Dean stood up, gently pulling Sin--no, Sam, up with him, and keeping an arm around his waist... appearances be damned. He wiped Sam's face free of tears, and spoke in a low voice. "Remember how scared you were to go to the docs? It was worse in your mind than in reality? I promise you... I promise you Sin, this is just like that. Just like," he said, locking gazes with the man.

Sam tried to smile at Dean but couldn't find it in him. He was certain it would be all over the fleet by morning and they would be screaming for his blood. Dean wouldn't be able to protect him. "I doubt it," he said. "I'm ready to go home now, please," he added quietly. It had been wonderful while it lasted, even with the ups and downs. He would take comfort tonight and try to be ready for the horrors he was certain tomorrow would bring.

"Anything you want." Dean walked him to the shuttle and shielded him from the pilot's view as they walked inside. "We're not waiting on other passengers. I need to get to the Galactica, stat," he said.

They were on their way within centons. He put his hand over the back of Sam's hand, threading his fingers through the man's. You hungry?" He was sure Sam would deny it. "Something sweet always makes me feel a little better. Or liquor," he chuckled. "Your liquor of choice is ambrosa. We can get some," he said, knowing it would cost him more than any liquor he'd ever bought, maybe more than any single item he'd ever gotten for himself.

"I'm not hungry," Sam said, shaking his head. "I'll pass on what you guys call ambrosa," he said making a face. "I have two bottles I brought with me. We can drink one of those. Not likely I'll be around long enough to sell them anyhow."

Dean gave a start and looked at Sam. "Hold on to them. I have some good old gold elixir... aged to perfection, three centars," he grinned.

"Elixir?" Sam shrugged, ignoring Dean's slightly aghast look. Dean was going to have to face it. They'd want his blood. But if he wanted to ignore it for now, Sam would play along. "You know the ambrosa is perfect. You won't ever taste anything so fine ever again. Or don't you like ambrosia?"

Chuckling, Dean shook his head. "I don't have ambrosa, and I didn't want you to waste yours. Sounded like you were saving them, but if you want to crack a bottle open, I'm there." He banged his knee against Sam's. "I'm not a country bumpkin, I know ambrosa is... quality." He choked on a laugh, but it was the truest way to get drunk quick.

He smiled a little at the way Dean bumped his leg. "I just figured they'd bring in some needed cubits. I didn't expect to get a stipend. Though after tasting your 'quality' stuff, I think I could retire on those two bottles."

"Liquor snob. Maybe after we've downed your ambrosa, my elixer will taste better." He squeezed Sam's hand and looked out the window. "Almost there," he said, nodding toward the Galactica.

"I like elixir!" Sam protested. "I'm just saying...as soon as the fleet finds out, and I'm sure it'll be the big news tomorrow...I just figure I won't need the cubits. Won't need much of anything for long."

Dean unbuckled his straps as they entered the shuttle bay, and stood up. "You're intelligent and knowledgeable Sin. But you're also wrong, on a lot of things you think you know. About you. About my dad. Dead wrong." He put his hand up to prevent an argument. "Ambrosa first, then we talk."

"And I think you have too much faith in people," Sam said ignoring the hand. "I know what people are really like. I've seen the sides they don't show to anyone else but a slave. And it can be ugly...sometimes, they do surprise you though." Sam clicked open the buckle with practiced ease. His mind seemed to be willing to acknowledge this was familiar now. Sam glanced down at the floor then back up at Dean. "And I know what people will tell those around them to save face. Everyone is capable of it. Everyone." Sam got to his feet and out of habit let Dean exit the shuttle first and kept a step behind him keeping his head bowed. No sense bringing any more recognition down on him any faster than it hit the news. He just wanted to get back home unaccosted.

Dean's jaw tightened, not at the sentiments, but because Sam was walking behind him. They'd gotten past that, he thought. "One step forward, two back," he muttered, taking long strides, wanting to get to their quarters, where he could both demand Sam... Sam! He'd started to think of Sin as Sam. Suddenly his lips quirked into an enigmatic smile as he turned to look at the man. Captain. Like himself. Didn't it make a whole lot of sense that they'd hit it off?

Dean's long strides actually eased some of Sam's tension. The faster home, the better. He saw out of the corner of his eye Dean glance back at him though he didn't see Dean's smile. "I'd rather you be in front of me," Sam explained. "I feel more...protected. Less noticed."

Reaching the lift Sam slipped into the back and made sure to keep Dean in front of him with a simple "Please?"

"I'm not arguing," Dean answered, not pleased, but not as stressed as before. The doors opened, and he was off again. They walked a few corridors, then he spoke into the keypad, and the door to his quarters hissed open.

Sam hurried inside and felt the tension practically drain out of him. He sank into the chair by the table. It all suddenly seemed to rush back up at him and he wrapped his arms around himself as if he were cold. "The ambrosa's under the bed."

A ball of fur practically launched itself into Sam's lap mewing and prancing around happily. Sam was momentarily startled, then scooped up the kitten and held it against his chest. It purred loudly and Sam smiled.

Dean stared blankly at Sam, then blinked. It looked like he'd just been given an order. A good sign, he thought, heading into the bedroom to find the drink.

A few centons later, he had two glasses filled, and sat on the sofa next to Sam. "Here you go. The 'real' stuff," he teased, sensing the tension in Sam. At least the animal seemed to be helping with that. He took a sip of his drink and watched Sam until he did the same, then spoke quietly. "Anything you want to ask me? Or... you want me to just talk and you can interrupt. What do you need from me right now, Sam... Sin... ah... you." His joke fell a little flat, but he was trying.

"I would prefer 'Sin.' No, I don't really have anything to say. You heard. Unless you want a recount of what happened in more detail," Sam said, stroking the kitten and sipping the ambrosa. Now this was real ambrosa and he savored every swallow.

"No, I don't want anything you don't want to give," Dean answered. A memory struck him and he looked back at Sam. "We met once, you know? I think I was about five or six yahrens old. I remember your uniform and... and your long-assed legs. You kinda... you ruffled my hair and gave me a little... it was a fighter ship pin." He blinked at the memory, "but you probably don't remember." Even if Sam's mind had not been scrambled, he was sure meeting a little kid wouldn't have left an impression on Sam who'd been in his early twenties at the time.

Sam thought for a moment and gave a nod. "I remember. You were about as big eyed as a kid could get. Great, now I feel like a pedophile." He gave a slight smirk to Dean.

Dean's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Then he took a drink, still regarding Sam. "I could call you daddy, or... you could lay off me. Wouldn't want you to feel... dirty." Having collected himself, this time Dean was doing his own smirking.

Sam almost laughed at Dean's look but Dean's follow-up comment brought out a glare. "You call me 'daddy' and I will make you cry 'uncle'. Again and again and again."

"Uncle Sam. Uncle Sammy..." Dean weighed the options. "We'll have to try that out some time."

"I will tongue-fuck you in front of your dad," Sam threatened.

"Uncle," Dean raised his hand up as if in surrender, but eyed Sam closely. He was incredibly calm and light hearted, it was as if nothing had happened. "Ignoring it isn't gonna help, you know," he said, knocking back the rest of the drink and setting the glass down. "Tomorrow's gonna come one way or the other."

Sam stared at Dean a moment, unsure how to answer that. He finally said quietly, "Tomorrows always frighten me. Tomorrow the Cylons might torture me. Tomorrow the Cylons might put me back in cryo, maybe for decades, maybe forever. Tomorrow I might end up with one of the sadistic clients. I told you before. Now. Only the now. It's the only way I can keep myself together. It's the only way I don't put a blaster in my mouth and blow my fracking brains out." He gave a soft huff. "Not that I was ever given that choice...or I would have."

"I'd miss your fracking brains," Dean said, leaning toward Sam then pulling him into his arms, careful to let him adjust his hand so he didn't spill his drink. "I really would," he reiterated, stroking Sam's back and kissing his temple as Sam finally relaxed against him, at least externally. "Tomorrow, nothing is gonna hurt you. Tomorrow, I'll go to work, then I'll come back. We'll eat, and I'll walk you to the doctors. I think you'll have a lot more to say... to talk about. And then you and I will come back here, just like we did today." The doctors had said Sin... Sam needed structure. Clearly he'd been wrong taking him out of their routine and putting him into a new situation tonight.

Sam sighed a little in Dean's embrace. He wanted to believe it. He really did. "Of course, Dean," he said, as he always did when he didn't believe but felt he should agree. If only the collar would permit him to commit suicide... "It'll be fine."

"Okay, then what do you think will happen tomorrow," Dean asked with a sigh. "I've given you my truth, you give me yours." He didn't know how he would get through to Sam, maybe it wouldn't be with words, maybe it would be time and showing him. Maybe that was the only option.

"Just as you say. You'll go to work, then you'll come back. We'll go to the doctors. I'll tell them whatever they want to hear. Then we'll come back here and you'll go back to your office. And then you'll come back," Sam said. He pulled away from Dean and downed the rest of his ambrosa. He ran a hand down the back of the kitten that had curled up beside him.

Giving Sam a long look, Dean leaned over and reached for the bottle. He poured both of them fresh drinks, then sat back. After Sam had taken a sip, he put his hand on the man's thigh, knowing he'd just withdrawn from him. "How can I help you to believe that?"

Sam ran his hand through Dean's hair. "When the mob isn't at the door. When security isn't waiting to take me away. I won't...I won't be imprisoned again Dean. Just...please understand that."

"If there's a mob, Sam, it will be to celebrate your presence." He licked his lips. "You're in the history books, you know? If I recall my high school text book, you were down there under heroes. Don't... don't stop me, let me just tell you a few things. You can decide yourself whether or not to believe what I tell you." He licked his lips. "Do you know the maximum time a human has been able to withstand Cylon torture, I mean before you were captured? Five days. Do you know what the record is for withstanding torture from the time after your capture, not including you? Eight days. Sin... Sam, do you know how long you hung on? Fourteen fracking days. Enough time to evacuate the rim world. Enough time to get the fleet out there, blocking their way to our other inhabited worlds. Enough time for codes to be changed, and for people to realize the Cylons might strike again and reach the homeworlds, that it ... the war was all powering up into something bigger." Some had understood, but most had still not fully accepted that someday there would be a complete extermination effort that would be made by the Cylons. The Cylons' operation to exterminate all humans had come about 20 yahren after the capture of Sam of the Wesson clan, that was the event known as Final Destruction.

Dean knew Sam might reject all this, but it was the plain and simple truth. "Tomorrow, you can research what I said. Look up your name."

Sam leveled his gaze on Dean. "My name is Sin," he said. "And if I look up my name it will talk of a newly arrived pleasure slave." Sam took a few long sips of the ambrosa and let it roll around on his tongue. Sin. He just wanted to be Sin. "Sam is dead. He is lost. Left behind and for the best. Sam was weak, pathetic, and broken. Sin...Sin can be happy. He can love someone. He can have great sex and enjoy every micron of it. He can smile and laugh and own a kitten. Sin can learn not to be afraid and can heal." He begged with his eyes. "Please, let me be Sin. Let me be yours."

Dean reached out and caught Sam's hand, closing his own around it. "Sin is great, he's fun, he's sexy, he's... a trouble maker," Dean grinned. "But he's not complete, not without Sam. When he finds his inner Sam, that's when he'll be at peace... and whole. I want you to be whole and comfortable in your skin. You can be both Sin and Sam... you can."

"...But I don't want to be Sam ever again," Sam said quietly. "I can be whole as Sin. I swear I can." He squeezed Dean's hand back. He felt the fear grip him. He was still certain guards would be buzzing the door any micron, looking for Sam. But Sin might be safe from them.

"We'll talk about it with the docs, okay? Right now... you've had a shock. I'm... I don't know exactly what to do with it either. Let's let the professionals deal with it. Right now, know you're safe, with me. I care about you... a lot. Nothing is gonna hurt you, I promise," Dean vowed, his voice thickening with emotion in the face of the fear he saw and sensed in Sam.

Sam gave a slow nod. It made sense and if Dean said he would protect him, then Dean would. He had rescued him from Thiros. He had rescued him from the asylum. He had taken care of and protected him so far. "I believe you," Sam said softly. He settled up against Dean and continued to drink his ambrosa. "Don't forget you promised me gold elixir when we finish this bottle," he reminded Dean. He wanted to drink tonight. Drink a lot. Drink enough he could forget everything for a little while.

Dean chuckled, "Yes Highness, I hope it meets your standards." He did everything he could to make things seem normal, though they clearly weren't. Eventually, they lapsed into silence, and drank, and drank some more. The ambrosa finished, the elixir was almost all gone, and then Dean finally called it. "Time to hit the sack, come on Si..Sa... you."

He dragged Sam up, not that he was on stable feet himself. He wasn't, and they were staggering toward the bedroom, pulling off some of their clothes. "G'night," he mumbled, pushing Sam toward the cot, then dropping down on his bed, shirtless but without bothering to get rid of the pants. Tomorrow was not going to be pretty.

Sam half staggered toward his cot then spotted the little ball of fur. Shadow had given up any hope of getting Sam to play, had trotted back to the bedroom and snuggled down on Sam's pillow. Sam stared at the cat, swaying on his feet. He didn't want to disturb the little thing, all happily sleeping. He turned around and staggered to Dean's bed and sank down beside him. He hadn't been drunk like this in...yahrens. They didn't let him get this drunk on Thiros. They would give him drugs to help keep him sober. It hadn't occurred to him he wouldn't have them here. A hangover. He was probably going to wake up with a hangover. And that almost made him giggle. How very human.

Dean groaned. "You have your own bed." Had he had the damned thing brought in for nothing? He felt Sam's body curl up behind him, and gave up. "Tomorrow... your own," he muttered, leaning back against the other man's warmth since the blankets were under them.

"Mmm-huh," Sam mumbled into Dean's neck as he snugged an arm around Dean's waist and pulled him closer.

*

He was so cold. He was in his full dress browns but even with the long sleeves and dark cape, he was still cold. Why was he waiting in this room by himself? Didn't even have a chair. He heard laughter on the other side of the door and grinned. Johnny! He pounded on the door when it wouldn't open, then shouted, "John! C'mon John, let me out of here. Freezing my dick off in here!"

The door slid open. "Finally!" Sam said, and Commander John stood outside the door in his command blues, a Cylon on either side of him.

"Captain, what the frack do you think you're doing?" John barked at him.

Sam stared at him surprised and confused. What were the Cylons doing here? Why was his commander with the shiny metal monstrosities. "Waiting for you, sir," Sam said.

John's face twisted into a sneer. "Why would I want you back you sniveling little wimp?" He stepped forward and ripped off the cape, the decorations, even the warrior pins and tossed them aside. "You don't deserve to dirty that uniform. Out of it. Now."

Sam began to do as his commander told him, when Marchielle stepped up beside John and whispered something in his ear. John nodded. "That's right. Why don't you strip proper, slave."

Suddenly he was on Thiros, dancing to the music as he stripped off his clothes. The Cylons and Marchielle looked on while John was laughing with some of their friends, pointing at him. Once he had stripped down to nothing, he found himself in the middle of a room, his arms outstretched, Marchielle behind him, snapping the laser whip again and again against his back, as the Cylons demanded the codes to bring down the defense grids for the rim world Sharonne. He saw Dean standing with John then talking to him, grinning and laughing.

"Dean! Dean! Help me! Please! Dean!" he begged as he felt the laser whip bite again and again into his back, the Cylons growing more demanding. Then they were shoving him into the cryo tube as the warriors stood nearby continuing to laugh and talk. "Master!" Sam screamed. "Save me. Don't leave me. Don't abandon me! Master!"

The shouts and movements roused Dean from deep sleep. It took him a few microns to come to his senses, to realize Sin--Sam, dammit--was having a dream... a nightmare. "Sam." He used the man's real name as he leaned over him, and shook his shoulder. "Sam, I'm right here. Wake up... just a bad dream, I'm right here with you." Hearing himself called 'master,' knowing Sin was calling for him, Dean shook him harder, then leaned down and kissed him. "I'm right here, right Sin... right here," he said between kisses, trying to bring Sam out of the mental space he was trapped in.

...so cold, so fracking cold...but warm lips brushed his. He was no longer in the cryo chamber alone.

"No, they can't have you too," Sam begged. "He'll get you out. John wouldn't leave you. Go," he told Dean pushing at the young boy now pressed against him. Save yourself, please!"

But the child grew as he watched, turned into a teen, then was in a cadet's uniform, then a warrior's, a captain's finally. He stroked Sam's face.

Sam shook his head. "I'm a monster, Master. Leave me. I'm not worth saving. I killed them, killed them all."

They stood outside in a field, a blue sky over head. Bodies, twisted, charred, broken, severed into pieces were stacked about them. Columns of thick smoke rose in the distance. "My fault. I did this," Sam whispered, sobbing as he held Dean to him, waiting for Dean to turn away in disgust and leave him with the dead.

"Not a monster... not by a longshot," Dean countered the pained words, stroking the side of Sam's face, wiping his tears. "I am not leaving you anywhere. I did not leave you on Thiros, I am not leaving you wherever you are in your head, do you hear me Sin? Do you feel me?" he asked, rolling more firmly over the man, grinding against him. "This is real, you... me... in my bed. This is real, not that."

Dean didn't leave. Dean held him, stroked his face, ran his fingers through his hair. They were back in the suite on Thiros, but he could hear the pounding on the door as the dead shouted accusations at him.

"They hate me, Master. They hate me for betraying them," he whispered, but began kissing Dean back almost tentatively. "Do you hate me Master? I want you to love me. Please forgive me. Please...love me, Master..."

"No, I don't hate you, no one hates you... no one," Dean said kissing him again and again, sliding a hand under Sam's head and lifting him up as he kissed him harder, working his mouth over Sam's. "Nothing to forgive, believe me baby," he repeated, his free hand undoing the fastening of Sin's shirt, tugging it open faster, hearing the fastenings pop when he couldn't be bothered with them. "Say you believe me."

The way Dean kissed him, he couldn't help but kiss back. He felt Dean's hands on him, hands that were so warm. No one hated him? But he heard them, screaming, demanding his blood. He felt the sob rise in his throat as the tears streamed down his face. His own hands began caressing his Master's body.

"I hear them. They want me. Want me dead. But you're here. You won't leave me. Won't ever leave me..."

The veil of the nightmare began to lift and he found Dean in his arms. He opened his eyes and though it was dark, it wasn't so dark he couldn't make out his master's face. "Master," he breathed. He pulled Dean tight against him and sealed his mouth over Dean's, his kisses desperate and needy as the horrible fears the nightmares had brought tried to drown him.

Groaning, Dean started to tongue fuck Sam, knowing by every tug, every desperate movement under him, this was exactly what Sam needed right now. As he plunged his tongue deep inside his lover's mouth, tasting liquor, tasting Sam, he ground his hips down, thrusting against him, bringing their groins together, working both of them up. Heat flooded his system, his own needy reactions making him doubt the purity of his intentions. "Right here... here," he kept assuring Sam.

He groped Sam's chest, his shoulders, arms, then traced the outline of his body, the lines of his muscles along his ribs, and waist. Shoving one hand between them, Dean started to undo Sam's pants. "Need you here. Alive. Not dead Sin, alive and with me."

"Alive," Sam murmured. "Yours. Always yours, Master," Sam moaned, thrusting back against Dean's hardening member until he felt the hands at his pants. He reached down and began opening the other man's pants, even in his drunken and disoriented state, his fingers knew exactly what they needed to do. He continued to kiss Dean, savoring the flick of Dean's tongue in and out of his mouth, moaning.

"Want you...in me...want you," he begged in between kisses. He stroked Dean's cock through his underwear getting him harder, hard enough so that he could easily drive deeply inside him without delay. He twisted and lifted at the same time, aiding in the removal of his pants.

Breaths labored and hot, fanning over Sam's face, Dean pushed both of their pants down to their knees. He really should get them off, but he couldn't, he found himself thrusting against Sam's palm and thigh, needing the pressure so bad he couldn't wait. "Are you..." he screwed his eyes shut and moaned as Sam squeezed him, making him need a hundred times more. "Sin, are you here... with me?" he demanded, kissing Sam's throat, cupping his jaw and pushing it to one side. "Do you see me? What's my name, what's my name, baby?"

"I'm here, Master." He struggled to sort out the terrible cascade of memories that jumbled together in his mind. "D-Dean," he finally got out. "Dean."

Sam arched his head back as Dean's lips kissed his throat. "Unngh," he moaned. "Take me. Take me now, Dean," he begged.

Dean tried to position himself, then cursed. "Frack..." The pants were in the way. "Roll over," he said, lifting up for a moment to let Sam do as he said, then peeling the shirt off Sam's back. He settled down over him, one arm under Sam's body, across his chest and hooked over his shoulder. Dean kissed the back of Sam's neck, as he lined his cock up. As his tip pressed against Sam's tightly puckered hole, Dean groaned. Neither of them could wait for him to open Sam up, and even if he forced himself, the way Sam was bucking... trying to rush him, he knew it would be impossible to go slow.

Using his knees for leverage, Dean started pushing inside, biting his lower lip as he moved past the tight ring of muscle and was encased in the heat of Sam's body. His cock pulsed and ached, had him groaning against Sam's ear. "Let's go home... home together," he whispered, pulling out part way and thrusting his hips sharply, burying himself so deep, Sam had to be there with him, living in the moment.

Feeling Dean's cock at his hole had Sam immediately relaxing his sphincter though without lube there would still be a burn. He wanted it to burn, he wanted his master to feel it all, the pleasure of taking him like this, but there would be no damage done. He was too experienced to let that happen. Feeling Dean enter him was everything he wanted and needed right then. Dean's hot breath against his ear, the words and promise of home...it meant safety...meant love.

Moaning and nodding he pushed back with every thrust Dean made, his own cock rock hard and ready. He felt the tension and need in his lover, his master, and all his training came into play. He squeezed Dean's cock, tightening his inner muscles every time Dean was buried deep. He rode Dean, but drew it out, feeling the sweat on Dean's chest as he pistoned in and out. His own desperation was mirrored in his lover and their groans filled the room. He pushed his lover harder and faster until he knew Dean was at his peak and ready. He pushed back hard and squeezed, feeling the reward of Dean's seed filling him, his own spunk spewing forth at the same instant in perfect synchronicity.

Crying out Dean's name he pumped against Dean mercilessly, not letting him come down just yet, wanting to feel that second pulse, wanting to hear his lover find a second orgasm. Wanting to bring his lover home.

Dean felt a new wave of intense heat flashing through him. Giving a surprised grunt, he started to fuck again, hips thrusting with a single minded goal, fingers digging into Sam, holding their bodies tight to each other. Eyes closed, Dean suddenly felt his balls draw up tight against his body again. "Sin," he rasped as his body shuddered and he came again, deep inside his lover, filling him, moaning as Sam continued to clench around his now very sensitive cock. "So many tricks up your sleeve... so many..." he muttered against Sam's shoulder blade, kissing along its line as he waiting for his body to slowly come back to him.

Sam smiled when he succeeded in getting Dean to come a second time, his own body responding in kind as well. With Dean laying over him he didn't feel so cold. When he felt Dean finally pull out of him, he immediately missed the intimate connection. He turned in Dean's arms and pulled Dean into a kiss that was still verging on desperate. The nightmare had shaken him deeply and he still felt confused. What was and wasn't real he wasn't sure of.

"You are...you're my master, right?" Sam whispered looking into Dean's eyes. "Not just a client. I'm in your home. I'm safe with you here, Dean, right? You're not going away. You..you want me here."

Even through the cloud of drunkenness and the afterglow of sex, Sam's words gave Dean a start and made him realize his response has to be carefully thought out. He tried to gather himself, concentrated on how tightly Sam was holding onto him. "I'm... I'm your master, your friend, your lover, I'm whoever you need me to be, Sin. This is my place, and you are safe. I want you here, I need you here with me," he nodded. "No one is leaving." He gave Sam a messy kiss, then collapsed down over him, his face buried in the curve of Sam's throat. "Push me over if I get heavy."

"Never too heavy," Sam breathed into his ear and clung to the man on top of him. Dean's words warmed and comforted him. He wasn't sure of a lot at the moment, but that he was Dean's and that Dean wanted him was all he really needed at this moment. While he was afraid the nightmares might return, he could barely keep his eyes open and prayed Dean's presence would be enough to keep them at bay.

Dean gave a snort but couldn't manage to say anything clever. "Night, Sin." Allowing his eyes to drift shut, Dean was instantly asleep.

* * *

The damned alarm was going. It was so loud that Dean knew it must have been on for a while, steadily growing louder until it pierced through the haze of his sleep. Groaning, he reached to the night stand and hit the off button. That was when he realized what... no who was under him. "You have your own bed," he muttered, shaking his head as he rolled off. Only he had trouble rolling, his pants were on, and they bunched around his thighs.

Frowning, Dean sat up and pulled the covers down. Sin's pants were around his thighs as well. It was like they'd rushed to have sex, like they couldn't wait... "Well fuck me..." he grumbled, trying to remember.

The loss of the weight on him, the warmth, and the sound of an alarm brought Sam to instant wakefulness. And instant realization he had a hangover. A hangover. It had been a long time since he had had a hangover and he wondered why he hadn't been given the meds to prevent it if he was supposed to work soon. He cracked open his eyes and was momentarily confused as to where he was. Then he saw Dean and jumbled memories crashed over him. Nightmares and reality blurred and he wasn't certain at all what had happened the day before. He heard Dean's annoyed sounding words and his eyes widened a little.

"Yes, Dean," Sam said and forced himself to sit up, forcing himself to keep his gorge from rising. He had to piss but if Dean wanted love-making, Sam would keep his own needs under control. He began kissing the back of Dean's neck while one hand drifted over Dean's back and the other began caressing the man's chest, finding his nipple and rubbing around and around it teasingly.

"Yes what?" In the next instant, Dean had his answer as Sin started to kiss and caress him. Even in his current state of being slightly hungover, that man knew how to push his buttons. "No no... Sin." As he peeled the guy off him, everything came crashing back. Sam. This man was Sam. His father's friend.

Blowing out a breath, he ran his hand over his face. "Sorry, I'm not feeling great. Guess you're used to the liquor," he said, assuming Sam was feeling not only alright, but downright frisky.

"I am used to drinking, but I am also used to the frendalai. Frendalai eliminates the after effects of alcohol," Sam said, confused as Dean pulled away. "If you are not feeling good then you don't want me to fuck you like you asked? Shall I get you coffee and breakfast?"

"Ah no... I didn't ask you to... I was just talking out loud. Guess I need to watch my mouth around you," he chuckled. "Wish we had that... frendalai then. My head feels like it's taking a pounding." He let out another breath and started to push his pants down his leg, making a face at the leftover mess from their lovemaking. "Guess we were both drunk. How're you feeling?"

"I have some frendalai," Sam said and got out of bed, staggering a little, pausing long enough to kick off his pants. He wobbled over to his bag in the closet and pulled out his bottle of pills. He was sure he had some frendalai in with his sleeping pills. Too much alcohol often made the nightmares worse. He pulled out a yellow pill for himself and dry swallowed it, then handed one to Dean. "The hypos work almost immediately. This will take about five centons and you will start to feel better. All signs of the hangover will be gone within about fifteen or twenty, but you need to drink down a couple glasses of water as soon as your stomach settles."

After giving Dean the pill he slowly walked out to the main room and filled up two glasses of water for Dean and brought them in to him. Frack he really had to pee and his back felt all itchy from the cum he'd slept in all night. He pressed the call button. "Please send us breakfast, pancakes with fresh fruit on the side, apples, some sausage and kavi juice." As soon as he'd ordered, Sam hurried into the bathroom and relieved his bladder then hurriedly stepped into the shower and washed so he would be clean for Dean if Dean decided he did want a morning fuck after all. He took the time to drink a couple glasses of water just as he had told Dean to do.

Had Sam gone mad ordering food? Dean's stomach lurched, though he went ahead and took the pill with an entire glass of water. He expected it would help, but not that it would have him ready to eat a full meal. That would take a miracle.

A very short time later, while Sam was still in the shower, Dean has his miracle. He got out of the bed, stripping it for the wash, then left an automatic message that would play when their breakast was brought up, instructing that the food be brought in and left on the table.

Whistling, he knocked on the bathroom door then entered. "Room in the shower for me?" he asked. "We were a little... messy."

Chapter Text

Sam was just about done when he heard Dean's happy little whistled tune and the sound of a man definitely no longer feeling the effects of the alcohol. "We were very messy," Sam agreed feeling much better himself. Smiling, he opened the curtain so Dean could step in. "Feeling better, Master?"

Dean lost his smile, but stepped into the hot spray, his body almost touching Sam's. "Much better. I'm gonna have to make sure the merchants I know keep their eyes open for this stuff. It really works." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm not going in to work today. Unless you get sick and tired of me."

"I can give some for you to give to the medical doctors. They can surely recreate it easily enough. I know it's synthetic so it doesn't require any special organic components." Sam added soap to the wash cloth he'd been using and began washing Dean's back. "I would never get sick and tired of you," Sam said, planting a light kiss on Dean's neck. "If you aren't going into work today, did you want to do something special? Can I help make your day off even more relaxing, Master?" Sam asked then furrowed his brow. "Dean," he said correcting himself. "You said not to call you 'master.' I'm sorry, Dean."

"Thanks, I like Dean better," Dean said a little woodenly. He had the feeling everything they'd accomplished in the last few days had gone out the window. They were back to being closer to master and slave than friends and lovers and it hurt more than he would have thought. "What do you want to do? We have about four centars to kill before your appointment," he said, turning around to be able to see Sam's face. "Agro ship?"

Sam frowned at the tension he felt come into Dean. Frack. He'd screwed up. Not 'master' he reprimanded himself. Dean told him not to call him that and he had...forgotten. The nightmares last night had really messed with him. He looked at Dean blankly when Dean asked him what he wanted to do. He wanted to do whatever Dean wanted to do. Doctor's appointment...he paled at the thought, but...but had they gone there yesterday, right? It was okay, because Dean would stay with him. Agro ship? They--yes, they had done that yesterday too...right? Unless that was all just a dream too. Sam caught his lip between his teeth. "Did we...what did we do yesterday? I had nightmares last night and sometimes they...confuse me."

"You don't remember?" Dean whispered, looking into Sam's eyes, searching for the truth. "Everything we did yesterday is in your journal, including getting your kitten, do you remember?" Before Sam could answer, he continued. "Everything but what happened last night, when we went to... when you met my dad. You haven't written that part up yet." He didn't know whether to hope Sam remembered or not. No, he knew... but it didn't make this any easier.

"I...I think I remember. But sometimes what I remember and what's reality doesn't always end up being the same thing, not after my nightmares. We went to the agro ship?" Sam said slowly, watching Dean's face for confirmation. "We played tag and ate apples...and...and I saw a butterfly and walked in the pond." He broke out in a broad smile at the memory, a smile which grew even bigger when he saw Dean nodding and he knew it wasn't a dream. "We had good sex." He stepped closer to Dean and cupped the side of Dean's face. "You even let me...be dominant." His eyes darkened a little then. "We came back on the shuttle and you...the doctor...I didn't like it. Shadow! I bought Shadow, my kitten, and you said I could get plants and fish," he said, excitement coming back into his voice as his eyes lit up. "And we showered. Eventually," he chuckled. "After you tackled me on the bed." He grew more confident in his memories as Dean confirmed each one. "Then we went to your dad's ship..." His eyes grew wide and his knees nearly gave out. "...and we came back and drank ambrosa," he said weakly, denying the other memories, feeling his heart begin to pound in his chest and his breaths began to come in short gasps. No, no, that had to be part of the nightmare. Dean's dad wasn't...no, they didn't know...he was Sin, gods dammit! Sin!

Dean caught Sam, but they both sank down to the floor anyway, his knee between Sam's in the small space. Water beat down over them, and Dean held onto Sam, trying to loan him his strength. Eventually, he nodded. "That's right, that's what happened. Wait... do you remember what I told you after? That I'll find the historical references? I'll do that, you'll see... you'll see everything will be okay. That you can be proud of who you are, I'm proud of who you are... Sam," he said so low that it was a crapshoot whether the other man would hear him.

Sam clung to Dean as the memories accosted him. Dean's words didn't give him much comfort. He couldn’t believe anyone could think it would be okay. That he would ever be proud of the warrior, the Captain named Sam. "Can't I...can't I just be Sin?" he begged. He knew the feline was out of the bag though and he was certain the news had spread like wildfire. "I don't want to be the warrior who betrayed everything and everyone. I don't want to be the man who's lost everything, everyone he loved and knew. I would rather be Sin. I know who Sin is. I'll even...I'll even try harder to-to-to get used to the idea of taking off the collar. Will they...will they just let me be Sin?"

"I think you need to find yourself first. See things more clearly. Explore who you were, and then if you really... really want to be Sin, then I think you can be whoever you want to be." Dean held him tight, kissing his cheek. "People change their names, take on new careers and leave their history behind all the time. Not always easy. I mean every time you see my dad you'll..." It wasn't just his father, every time Sam saw him, or the others at that table, surely he couldn't put Sam away. "Why don't we cross that bridge when we get to it," he asked, knowing the only way Sam could really put everything behind him in the way he suggested was to go to another ship, one less interested in politics and war, where he would be lost among the dwellers and not see warriors all the time.

"I know who I was," Sam said softly but clutched Dean to him. It was all still a mess of memories in his mind and he didn't want to examine any of them too closely. "I-I think I would like to eat and play with Shadow. I don't know what I want to do after that. Can we...can we tell the doctor I am feeling poorly and not go today?" he asked hopefully though he suspected he knew the answer to that.

"Sorry baby, that we can't do." Dean started to stand up, pulling Sam with him. "Remember yesterday, you hated the idea of going to the doc? Then it was fine. It’s gonna be fine, just like yesterday." Pulling the curtain open, Dean stepped out and passed Sam a towel. When it slipped to the floor, he picked it up and put it around the man, tucking it in so it stayed around his waist. He used another towel to dry his chest, then stepped out of the way. "Let's have breakfast, and you can play with Shadow, or do whatever you want. There's a lot of time."

Sam stood unmoving while Dean tended to him, and finally coaxed him out of the shower. "Yesterday wasn't fine, it just wasn't what I expected." He tilted his head and gave Dean a look. "C'mon, my happy place? That guy's breathing exhaust fumes."

Finishing drying himself off, Sam walked back to the bedroom and changed into some of his new clothes. The clothes seemed to help, seemed to ground him a little bit. Shadow was looking up at him almost sadly, its big eyes watching him. "Oh, you are not being ignored," he scolded it and scooped it up into his arms and set it on his shoulder. He immediately got tiny claws digging into his shoulder, a wet nose stuck in his ear, followed by a loud purr. Sam scratched the kitten's ear. "After I eat, we'll play. Maybe I can teach you fetch. Or how best to annoy the Captain of Red Squadron," he said as he walked back out to the main room where breakfast waited.

"I heard that," Dean announced, hiding his grin. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe. He got dressed and followed Sam to the dining area and sat across from him. He breathed in the aroma of the coffee steaming out of two large mugs. "I owe you big time for the frendalai, it's amazing," he said, opening his meal up and taking another sniff, confirming there wasn't even the slightest twinge of nausea.

"Don't get cocky about it," Sam warned. "You'll need to drink more water, especially with drinking the coffee. You should drink about six glasses within the next couple centars. You'll probably get a mild headache for about a centar later today, maybe about eight centars or so from now. Just take a couple pills for a headache and you'll be fine. If you don't drink the water, your hangover will come back with a vengeance. Right now your body is being tricked into believing you're not dehydrated and it's helping accelerate the purification of toxins from your body. At least that's what Prem told me. He was our doctor on Thiros." Sam opened his own meal. Everything was perfect. With a grin he picked up one of the slices of apple from his plate. "Want a bite of my apple?" he teased.

Dean's gaze flicked up to Sam's and he knew exactly what he was thinking. "Biting your apple is dangerous business," he answered. "Not that I'm saying 'no.'" He started to pour syrup over his hot cakes, but felt Sam's gaze on him. "Eat your breakfast," he knocked his knee against Sam's. "And maybe when we get back from being out later today, we can discuss what type of ... aerobic activity we might want to engage in." Yeah, he'd used promises of rewards to lure Sam out to the docs before, and he would do it again. Anything that worked.

It was obvious to Sam that Dean was bribing him but if it meant more sex with Dean, he would take all the bribing the man would offer, even if it meant...the doctor. Hiding his shudder, Sam grinned and took a bite of the apple slice, juice slipping down one side of his mouth. Following Dean's example he soaked the hotcakes in syrup. "Yes, I do need a good work out." He looked up at Dean through his lashes. "I haven't really had a chance to use the pull up bar you know."

"You mean for torture? Cause you weren't really using it for exercise the other day," Dean gave him a pointed look. It was too late, the thought was already embedded in his mind, and now... all he was going to think about was more upside down sex. "At what point does a ... a kink become a problem?" he asked, "I mean... I may have one." Lifting his mug, he took a sip of his coffee.

Torture. The mug slipped from Sam's hand, spilling hot coffee across the table, some of the hot liquid pouring from the table onto his leg, but he didn't even acknowledge the burn. He paled to deathly white and sat stone still. His arms outstretched and bound, the burn of the laser whip scored his back as Marchille, the client he most feared, exercised his sadistic pleasure. His breath frosted in front of him in the freezing room as the mindscanner ripped through precious layers of memories, cutting like broken glass, shredding his mind into ribbons of pain and confusion. Sam's eyes turned almost glassy as he found himself falling into the nightmare all over again...

"Sin. Sin! What's the matter," Dean yelled, then grabbed his shoulders and staring into the man's unseeing eyes, shook him. "Sin, aw shit..." he'd said 'torture'. That had to have been it. "Sin come back to me," he demanded, seeing pain etched in his lover's eyes and face, though he didn't make a sound. "Happy place, Sin. You have to go to your happy place, right now... do you hear me?"

Dean's heart pounded against his chest. He was close to calling for help but thought he'd try one more thing. Lowering his head, he crushed his mouth over Sam's, forcing his tongue past unresponsive lips and kissing him brutally hard. "Right here, right here Sin. Kiss me back, I want it... come back, be with me, kiss me," he demanded, then kissed him again, tongue fucking him, trying to make him feel, make him come back from wherever he was trapped in his mind.

Marcielle brutalized his mouth, kissing him, demanding a response. He had been trained to respond. The punishment would be horrible if he did not please the man. But the taste, the tongue it was...wrong. He heard a distant voice begging him, begging him to come home. I don't know how to get home, he thought, agonized that he could not answer the voice that filled him with happiness and love. Memories slowly trickled in. A handsome face, dancing green eyes, gentle touches, promises of protection and safety. His master. His master demanded he come home. He bunched his muscles, fighting against the bindings, tugging desperately. The whipping on his back became more often, more painful. His master. He had to get to his master. The bindings shattered, the freezing cold and horrid pain of the mindscanner faded... and he found himself with an armful of Dean. He wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him back. His master saved him.

He finally broke away from the kiss and buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck. Breaths came to him in rapid gasps but Sam didn't cry...okay those were tears of pain he told himself, not of fear. "I'm...okay," Sam said softly even as he shuddered in Dean's arms.

No you're not. Dean held him tight, like he'd never let him go. "Wherever you were, it's not real Sin. It's not real, or it's in the past. It's never gonna touch you again, I swear it. Do you hear me?" He'd managed to turn Sam's chair toward him, but the edge of the table was biting into Dean's side. "Safe. You're safe now." Closing his eyes, he forced himself to believe Sam would be fine. So many people had come out of Final Destruction damaged, but so many... most had found their way. Sam would too. He would.

"It's real," Sam whispered. "Just bits and pieces all jumbled together." He stroked Dean's hair trying to reassure his master, trying to erase that fear and concern he saw in those green eyes. "I feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Sam stood up and guided Dean back to his chair. "Soggy pancakes aren't any good. Please eat, Mas--Dean. We'll both eat. It'll be okay. You can help me play with Shadow after breakfast. It'll be nice. I'll bet you'll have more fun than you think you will. She'll make you laugh. She'll make me laugh. The laughter will echo in your quarters and warm it." After kissing Dean lightly on the lips he grabbed Dean's towel and dropped it on the spilled coffee then returned to his own chair. The kitten glared at him from the floor and hopped up on the table, then returned to its shoulder perch before Sam had a chance to scold it. It swiped its rough tongue once over his cheek and began to purr again. Sam reach up and scratched her ears and began eating his pancakes.

Dean made a face at the cat but said nothing. Now wasn't the time to tell Sam to train it, or to say he'd rather watch Sam play with it then joining in. "You want laughter, maybe we'll watch Drino and Mars later... tonight." If that comedy team didn't have Sam laughing, Dean didn't know what would. Pressing his thigh into Sam's, he started to eat his breakfast. "We can invite Mike if you want, I know you enjoy his company." Dean didn't care to explore the reasons that made him feel a little unsettled, he wasn't a jealous man.

"What are Drino and Mars?" Sam asked. "I've never heard of it. If you want the company, of course, invite him," Sam said. He didn't want to see the disgust in the lieutenant's face and he didn't figure Mike would want to be in his presence, but if that's what Dean wanted then he would do what he could to be gracious, no matter how the lieutenant treated him. With Mike here it was doubtful he would be able to curl up with Dean, but maybe Mike wouldn't stay long, wanting to get out of the traitor's presence as quickly as he could. The lieutenant had been at the game, after all, and had heard everything. Even if the details hadn't yet reached all of intra-fleet news, Mike would know. It was a shame. He did like Mike.

"I have company." Dean took another bite, chewed and swallowed slowly before turning to Sam. "But we can invite others if you get tired of having just me around," he gave a shrug. "Drino and Mars are.... well you'd have to see them. It's a show, forgot it was started right here, on the fleet." Of course Sam wouldn't have seen it, the show started after he was long gone.

"And you might get tired of not having company visit, especially if you're used to having company," Sam said. A slight frown creased his brow as he thought of the type of company Dean probably was used to having. "I can...I can always leave for a while if you want...other types of company," he said but every word pained him. He didn't want Dean with anyone else.

He bit the inside of his lip. A slave shouldn't be jealous. That was improper. But just the thought of Dean with anyone else and he felt that jealousy swell inside him. Best he not think on it. And not think on where he would go if Dean tired of him or kicked him out for an evening. It gave him a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wanted to be able to eat the pancakes without throwing them up just because he got upset or nervous. It was a punishable crime to waste food like that. "If I have to see them, then yes, of course. I like to watch new things."

"What do you mean if you have to? I just thought you might enjoy the show. You don't have to watch anything you don't want to." Dean wondered at the change in Sam's mood. He'd thought he'd been feeling better, lightening up, but now he wasn't so sure. "Why don't we leave the decision for later. We'll do whatever you feel like, alright? You're in control." Pushing his plate aside, Dean reached for his coffee and watched Sam over the rim.

Sam looked at him a bit baffled then shook his head. "No, you said I had to see them, I'm assuming you mean I need to see to understand what they are, what the show is. Then I will have to see them so I know." He tilted his head. "I'm not sure that made sense, but, I just meant okay. I didn't mean to upset you and make you stop eating." Sam's own stomach had kind of soured at this point. He didn't like the thought that he had to make decisions and that he was in control. He was still very afraid of what he would find when he left the quarters, of how people would stare at him and the things he would hear them say.

The kitten, as if sensing Sam was getting upset, hopped off his shoulder and pranced across the table. It picked up a slice of apple from Sam's plate and began batting it around and pouncing on it. Sam couldn't help but smile even though he knew he should be scolding the kitten.

"I'm not upset, Sam. I'm full." He wasn't used to watching every word, and was having a little trouble with it. Dean clamped his lips together, before he could complain about the cat. Right now, Sam was very fragile. This had to be the joke of universal proportions, landing him ... the least diplomatic and thoughtful person on the Galactica and possibly in the entire fleet... with someone who was thin skinned, sensitive, and perpetually on the verge of a breakdown.

He watched Shadow for a few more moments, and gave a half laugh before raising his mug to his mouth. Though he met Sam's eyes, he didn't want to encourage him... he knew what Sam could be like. Give him an inch...

Sam smiled. "See. You will enjoy playing with her."

* * *

Sam thought the morning had gone well, really. He had convinced Dean to join in playing with the kitten. Pulling the string, playing fetch, rolling the ball back and forth between them only to have the kitten catch it and chase it then bring it back to one of them as if it were a prize mouse she had caught.

They had chatted about safe subjects and Dean helped him order the plants and fish he wanted, helping him fill out the requisition forms. He had sat with Dean at one point and dozed off and there hadn't been any nightmares...well not too much in the way of bad dreams anyhow.

The walk to the doctor's had been better than he feared, no one seeming to take particular note of him. He had been afraid to check the news and see what was being said about him. He walked in and sat down in the chair in the doctor's office, but he didn't want to talk about the past and he hoped against hope that the doctor knew nothing of what happened the night before. When the doctor asked how he was feeling, how the night had been, how he had slept, he answered with a stoic 'fine' to each question.

Fingers steepled together, Doctor Mars stared for a long moment, before clearing his throat and speaking. "Sam," he said distinctly, using the young man's real name for the first time. "Let us remove the word 'fine' from your vocabulary for the moment. Tell me ... no, describe for me, how you are feeling right now, about yourself, about the events of last night, about your hopes and fears relative to these events."

Dean sucked his breath in at the doctor's bluntness, though maybe it was what Sam needed.

Sam's eyes widened. The doctor apparently knew everything. He glanced at Dean, feeling a little hurt and betrayed and wondering when Dean had told him. But when had Dean had time? No, someone else must have and he feared what spin had been put on it.

"My name is Sin," Sam growled at the doctor. "And I feel fine," he insisted rebelliously, getting to his feet. "We're done," he added and headed for the door.

"Sam." The single word that left Dean's lips sounded much like a command to one of his men, one that would have them rooted to the spot. It took him a fraction of a centon to realize he'd called the guy Sam, maybe because he'd started to think of him in terms of who he really was. Dean got up, one hand on the back of his chair, ready to follow and bring him back.

Sam. The tone, the voice, the way it sounded like John tore through Sam.

He was standing on the bridge of the Starfire battlecruiser. They knew Cylons were in the area but they didn't know if the Cylons planned to be aggressive. Sometimes they were, sometimes they passed by with their focus on another target. He had volunteered to take the two man recon patrol. Felina, his lieutenant would fly his wing. She was a hot up and coming pilot and they were really just waiting for a Captain slot to become available to promote her. Sam had endorsed her a hundred times over.

"Get in close enough to see what we've got out there but don't risk yourselves if you can't fly under their sensors," Commander John had told them. He gave Sam a squeeze on his shoulder. "Be careful out there with my vipers. I want them back in one piece."

That was their standing joke. Bringing the ships back intact.

"Yeah, well if I get my ass in a crack, you've got my back."

"Course. I want my viper back. Don't worry Captain," John said more seriously. "We never leave a person behind. Never."

Sam gave John a sharp salute and he and Lt. Felina headed down to the bay. They'd gotten a good way out when the Cylon basestar showed up on their scanner. Then a second basestar. Then a third. Their course was dead on for Sharonne, but they'd have to break through the defense grid and that would be damned near impossible. It was a new grid, new systems, and without the codes, there was no way to break through the designers had ensured everyone.

The Cylon raiders poured out of the basestars and Sam and Felina wheeled their vipers. Sam covered her back, ordered her to push for all she had to get back through the grid and warn the Starfire. He lost count of the number of raiders he blew into dust but there were just too many and he realized they wanted him in one piece, wanted his viper in one piece. He didn't have a choice. He wiped the viper's computer, and triggered the self destruct, but he had taken damage and the self destruct didn't worked. The computers were dead, clean of information, and he had no ability to fly her for all controls went with the computer core. He was towed in. He never knew if Felina ever made it back, but he had gotten off a distress call before he wiped his systems. John would come for him. It didn't matter if it was three or thirty basestars, John would find a way to get to him.

Finding the viper's computer useless, they started in on Sam right away. Days passed. He had no idea how many, time was lost under the careful persistent torture of the Cylons. John wasn't coming. John left him to rot in that Cylon basestar. If the son of a bitch would have taken out the basestar, killing him in the process, that would have been better, kinder. Sam finally caved, knowing the pain wouldn't stop, ever, until he gave them what they wanted, selfishly putting his own life before those of the colonial rim world of Sharonne. Weak and pathetic. Broken. It didn't matter that the trainers at the Academy had told them time and again that anyone who gave up information in the face of torture would not be condemned. It did not matter he had told his own people that. This information meant the death of an entire world and maybe more.

Sam stood frozen as the memories cascaded over him. "You left me," he said softly, his fists clenching. "You left me!" he shouted and whirled. He didn't see Dean, he saw only the uniform, no matter it was flight brown and not command blue. He saw only John. "Your word, you said no soul left behind!" he shouted as he stalked up to Dean. "The word of Commander John, Winchester clan of Caprica." He spat on the floor. "Worthless. Like me! You're a worthless excuse of a man, of a warrior, of a commander. I lost everything! Everything!" He struck like lightning, punching Dean across the jaw. Someone else approached him, tried to order him or soothe him. He didn't care who they were. He back fisted them and stormed out the door. If anyone tried to stop him, he put them down with frightening ease. As the two personnel from security assigned to monitor him discovered.

Dean raised his hand. "No, don't call security. I'll get him," he said, licking the blood at the corner of his mouth, and helping the doctor back up on his feet.

"He could be dangerous."

"He's not. I just need to break through. Please... please doc, just give me a little time."

The doctor gave a reluctant nod. "I'm going to report the incident, but note that no one is to approach him unless there is another incident like this."

Without answering, Dean shot out the door. He looked around, but couldn't see the man anywhere, nor were there any crowds or sounds to alert him to the direction he'd gone. Assuming he went back to their quarters, Dean headed that way. The look in Sam's eyes when he'd looked at him with hate and betrayal... it haunted him. It made him wonder if it would always be there, because he was his father's son. One step at a time, he told himself, though the cold feeling blooming in his gut would not go away.

* * *
Sam practically ran down the halls and people took one look at his face at got out of his way. He ran until he passed into narrow empty halls, old lettering and numbers faded on the walls. Haunted, they said. This section of the ship so close to the huge engines that powered the battlestars had almost always been reported as being haunted. It was noisy here, strange sounds echoing down the canyons of narrow corridors.

He was still lost in his memories. This could have easily been a dream. He had dreamed of such a thing often enough. Running down the halls, the heart of a battlestar beating beneath his feet and thrumming in his ears. Noise. So much noise. It beat out even the sounds of Thiros at the height of the crowds. The calls for Sin were murmurs amid the thunderous engines and Sam ran harder. Clanking of Cylon feet was wrapped up in the cacophony. There. Ahead. His salvation.

He ran and jumped up the first three rungs of the ladder, his hand gripping the rungs up higher. He pulled himself up the tube. Up and up and up until he reached the hatch and spun it open. He crawled through and slammed the hatch closed, the sound of the engines suddenly cut and now only a distant rumble. He looked up and around the celestial chamber where astronavigators of old would come to double check the computers they didn't trust. A half sphere of transparent metals encircled and encapsulated him. He sank into one of the chairs and stared out at the stars. He was alone again, lost again, and he wasn't at all certain he would ever find his way back.

* * *

Centars passed. Dean had looked everywhere he could think of, then sat with Shadow, waiting for the call which would tell him Sam had been found. Both of them were nervous. The cat paced all over him, while he drummed his fingers on the table. He'd searched every inch of the public areas of the ship, well, the easily accessible ones, and couldn't understand where Sam could have gotten to. Of course he could be in a movie house or a store, just hiding. That was a possibility. Sooner or later he'd be found, he'd have to be.

And yet, inactivity killed Dean. After he called security and was told to stop calling, that they'd alert him the instant any of the view cams spotted Sam, he decided to call his father.

The conversation was short and stilted. Losing not only a captain under his command, but a close friend, had not been easy for John. It had left a big scar on his heart, one his family had always been aware of. And he wasn't one to like to talk about his feelings or bring them up. He did however voice his desire to talk to Sam when the man was ready. Then he told Dean about the astronavigation room all battlestars had, a room that was mostly in disuse and restricted. As he recalled, Sam had been one to go to that room to think and being a 'thinker'... he was found there quite often.

Following the directions his dad had giving him, Dean wished he'd brought something to protect his ears from the sound of the engines. Seriously, how could anyone 'think' in this sound? He climbed up the rungs of the ladder and slowly pushed the hatch up. Looking around, he couldn't see anyone, or anything other than the stars up above the steel glass covering of the room. Climbing in, he closed the hatch and immediately noticed the silence. The sounds of the engines did not penetrate into this room.

There were a couple of stairs to bring him up to floor level, and once he was there, he saw the two chairs against the wall. One was occupied. Sam sat there, leaning back and looking up at space.

Dean cleared his throat. "Sam. Can I talk to you?"

He'd heard the hatch of course, the sudden thunder of the engines which were again lost to silence when the hatch was shut. The steps striking the stairs were those of booted feet. Sam vaguely recognized the voice he thought. Someone he had once cared for deeply. Or maybe that was just a dream too. In cryo-sleep you did dream. They were strange dreams, intermittent and disjointed like this one was. At least this time the cold didn't permeate his very bones. "Until you fade away. Go ahead. Talk," Sam said, not taking his gaze from the stars that surrounded him. It was so beautiful up here. So fracking beautiful and peaceful. He didn't know how long this part of the dream would stay and he drank it up like a man dying of thirst.

Moving closer, Dean leaned against a wall a few feet away from Sam, studying his profile. He looked at peace, which was very much at odds with the situation. "Shadow misses you." He wanted to know whether Sam was in his reality, or somewhere completely different.

Sam gave a soft smile. "I dreamed I had a kitten named Shadow. Really strange. I've always hated felines and they always hated me. Though maybe because it was a kitten, not a full grown annoying cat. She had soft fur, my dream kitten, white and black. I guess maybe I dreamed her up because she wouldn't judge, just love."

Something twisted in Dean's gut. "I missed you. I was worried."

"You sound like Commander John just a little. I can't help but hate him, you know. I loved him once. Like a brother."

Dean had seen that hate in Sam's eyes at the doctor's office. And now Sam pretty much confirmed it. He hated his father, and found Dean to be like his father. Though it hurt, Dean didn't flinch, but kept looking at Sam, though the other man never looked at him.

"I shouldn't, I suppose. Hate John. The man can't work miracles. I'm sure he considers me lost, dead. I don't know how long it's been now. You lose time in cryo." He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "But that's what cryo is. Lost time. Lost days or months or yahrens. Could be that decades or centuries have passed. I'm sure I'm long forgotten. Probably for the best. Everyone is probably long dead, those who knew me. There will be no rescue, nothing but the dreams until they pull me out again. It really isn't worth the fight. They take me out. I tell them what I can, then back into deep freeze. I'm sure by now I'm probably crazy. Insane. They say cryo will do that to you eventually. But I like this dream. I hope it lasts. I like seeing the stars. Or maybe I'm dead. Maybe this is my heaven. Though really, if it were heaven I would be beside Symphony Falls with Trishan. The stars would be bright and shining down upon us while we made love. I hope she didn't die hating me."

"It's not a dream." Dean licked his lips. "I don't know what happened to her, Trishan. I can try to find out for you, but I'm sure no one hates you. Sam, you went down fighting. Why the hell would anyone hate you? Think... would you hate someone for being captured?" He took a deep breath. "I know you don't wanna hear this now, but they did try. My dad tried to get you back. It just... sometimes, sometimes it doesn't matter how hard you try."

Sam slowly dropped his gaze from the stars and looked at Dean. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's a nightmare. My nightmares usually have John and Cylons and Marchielle in them. I don't think you'd be in my nightmare. Well, one of the nightmares you were, but then you turned that nightmare into a dream." Sam held out his hand. "Come. Sit by me. Look at the stars with me."

Reaching out, Dean took Sam's hand and walked closer, then sat on the ground, his side pressing against Sam from ankle to knee. Sighing, he looked up at Sam. "Do you know me? Sam? Do you recognize me?" he asked, the pressure inside his stomach tightening.

Sam didn't answer for a long time, his focus back on the stars. He hadn't expected the man to sit on the floor but rather to take the empty chair beside him. He liked feeling the warmth of the man pressed up against him. Finally, he looked down at Dean and ran his fingers along Dean's face from temple to jaw. "You're Dean. John's son. All grown up. Sin's master. Sin's lover. Sin's caretaker and savior. Sin needs you and loves you. But everyone wants Sin to go away." Sam reached up to the collar around his throat and pressed the magnetic lock, twisting it open. He pulled the collar off, holding it out in front of him, staring at it a moment before he dropped it onto the floor. "And I guess he has."

Dean looked down at the ground, at the collar, then back up at the face etched with pain. He put a hand on Sam's knee, squeezing it as he spoke. "No Sam, that's not how it is. No one wants Sin to go away. He's part of you, but only one part of you. I want you to be free. Free of his masters. Free of the Cylons. One day, free of your own demons. Do you understand that?" he asked, dropping a kiss onto Sam's thigh, wanting so badly to pull the man into his arms, to protect him from everything he feared.

"No matter who I am, I will never be free. Sin, at least, was happy. Scared sometimes, but happy. Sam," he shook his head, "Sam is a crippled old man, a ghost of who he once was. A soul best to be salted and burned and his ashes scattered to the winds and forgotten. Isn't it better to be half a man who is happy, than half a man who is broken into too many pieces to fix?"

"Sin was broken too. He had pieces of Sam in him, you know that. But he was mending, and you can too. You WILL," Dean said, forcing his own will onto this man he cared for. "I kept wondering why the hell I felt close to you, why? I mean Sin is so different from me. I'd never gone for a man before, but I couldn't resist him... you. Maybe... maybe it's because I did know you, when I was a kid. And I heard so much about you. It was always Sam this, or Sam that. Maybe a part of me recognized you. Recognized Sam," he said, gripping the man tighter and coming up onto his knees. "Won't you give us... me... a chance to fix you?"

Sam's voice was soft. "I never had an interest in men. As a slave, I was not given a choice as to who I slept with. It was whoever won me for the evening. You...there was something different about you. The life in your eyes, the certainty in your step, the way you held yourself so tall and proud. Maybe I saw what I once was in you. I saw myself." Sam gave the barest of smirks. "Now if that isn't narcissistic, I'm not sure what is."

Dean's mouth curved into a smile. "Maybe. But I'm not as pretty. And that's a fact."

He pulled his gaze away and looked up at the stars. "You know this is your opportunity to do whatever you want. I promise you Sam, if you meet me half way, I will find you, and I will pull you out of whatever hell you're in. Then you'll owe me that other bottle of ambrosa you're hording." There was a teasing tone in his voice. "Tell me you're not scared to lose it. Tell me you'll do it."

"I don't know what I want to do," Sam admitted softly. "On Thiros, I had little time to think. It was work, study or sleep. On the basestar, thinking was all I had to do when they weren't questioning me. I'm lost Dean. I'm...shattered. I don't think anyone can fix me. My hell is...living. Remembering. How can you possibly save me from that?"

"Don't you say that. Don't you ever say that," Dean practically shouted, alarmed at the thought that Sam might prefer death to life. "I will save you. You will save you, whatever it takes." His breaths were coming faster, his heart pounding. He gripped Sam's shirt. "Look at me. Of all the people captured by Cylons, you made it the longest. You fought them the hardest. You were my hero, you got that Sam? My hero... a lot of people's hero. If anyone can beat what they did, it's you. Can't you see that? Can't you?" he demanded, his voice thick with emotion.

Sam stared at Dean, his own eyes filled with pain. "And can't you see I'm no fucking hero. I'm just a man. A man who finally gave up. My fight is gone. Done. Over." He pried Dean's hand free of his shirt and took Dean's hand between his own. "You cannot understand. There are no words..." He closed his eyes and shuddered, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. He finally opened his eyes and gave Dean a small smile. "I'm a lost cause, Lover. I died a long time ago." Sam pulled Dean into his arms, holding him. "I don't think you'll like Sam, even though you loved Sin. Don't say I didn't warn you. If you thought Sin was fucked up, you haven't seen anything yet."

Tears stung Dean's eyes, but he refused to give up hope. The last of what Sam said, he grasped at it, hoping it meant Sam was going to try. "No one ever accused me of being smart." Dean paused. "But I have good instincts. Sam is a good man. And the fight isn't out of him, not by a long shot. He just... you just need the chance to prove it." He was aware of how tightly Sam was holding him and was glad for it. It meant he hadn't slipped away, that maybe Dean could still influence him in some way. "Come home with me. Let's do this. One last adventure, Captain. You can do this."

Sam's breath caught at being called 'captain' and he shook his head. "Don't...don't call me captain." He pulled Dean to his feet as he stood up. "I'll come with you." Almost mournfully he glanced down at the collar that lay on the floor. Sin was dead. And he wasn't at all certain he knew how to be Sam anymore. He felt more lost now than ever.

Dean closed his arms around Sam, held his slightly stiff body close for a long centon. It seemed neither of them was sure of their relationship. Sin would have hugged him back, would have demanded kisses, or wheedled more out of him. A Captain, one who did not have a sexual preference for men, someone very much like himself... this man, was understandably going to be different. Releasing him with more than a little reluctance, Dean stepped back and gave him space. "Sorry. We'll... we'll figure this... everything... out," he said quickly, then turned away and headed for the stairs, an empty feeling blossoming in his belly.

Sam missed Dean's body pressed against him almost immediately. Dean loved Sin. Or at least liked Sin. He remembered the chemistry they'd had. He remembered the warning Dean had given him. Gods, was it only yesterday? As Dean turned away from him, he felt his heart break just a little. Not only had he lost Sin, but he had probably lost Dean as well. Now, he wondered, what did he really have to live for? He felt his knees grow weak but he forced himself to follow Dean back down the ladder and back into the world he didn't want to be a part of, pausing only long enough to take a final look at the collar. He really ought to give Sin a proper burial, he thought, though the idea was absurd. Still, Sin would have liked to have been buried on the agro ship, maybe amid the apple trees. The last time he and Dean had truly been happy together. Yes, he would come back for Sin and do that. It only seemed right.

"Sam?" Out of habit, Dean reached for his hand, and drew him close, so he wasn't a step behind. Searching Sam's face, cool and impassive, he found himself staring at a stranger. Feeling like he'd lost something, Dean looked down at the ground and once they were away from the noisy and uninhabited sector, released the man's hand.

Sam was a little surprised when Dean let go of his hand, then reminded himself Dean did that with Sin too. Didn't want to be seen having a relationship with a man. Well that probably wouldn't be a problem anymore. He should probably look into finding his own quarters, maybe on another ship so Dean wouldn't have to see him. Dean said he wanted to try to fix Sam. Sam laughed bitterly to himself. He was pretty damned certain he was beyond saving. If Dean didn't have to look at him, be around him, he would soon forget him, and go back to the women he preferred having relationships with.

He'd leave Dean the bottle of ambrosa. As for Shadow...he didn't know yet. He'd cancel the order for the plants and fish. No sense in getting them. He found himself falling a step behind Dean and forced himself to pick up his pace. Sin was gone. No need to walk behind Dean anymore. Dean was no longer his master...even if he was still his love....

They walked in silence, and not the comfortable kind. Dean stole a couple glances at Sam, then they were in the lift. Still, the silence stretched between them. They stepped off and took long strides, for once perfectly matched, with Dean not having to slow down. Then they were at Dean's quarters, and once the door slid open, Sam walked inside before him.

Dean followed, his gaze falling on the exercise bar. He knew what Sin would be suggesting just about now. He cleared his throat. "This is... it's your place too. Home."

The ball of black and white fur shot into the main living area and right up Sam's leg and onto his shoulder. Shadow scolded him thoroughly. Sam winced at the little claws that let the cat climb up to its perch.

"Hello little one. I take it you were worried. Didn't Dean play with you? He's the one you should be scolding." Sam lifted the kitten off his shoulder and cradled it against his chest almost absently stroking Shadow's fur. Sam merely gave a nod to Dean. Home. Yeah. Maybe once.

It had been centars since he'd eaten or pissed. He set Shadow on the floor, receiving a plaintive, complaining cry from the cat. "I have to piss you stupid fur ball. You don't need to be in there while I do." Sam went into the bathroom and took care of business. After washing his hands and splashing water over his face he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked almost gaunt and his eyes, haunted. After a moment he just couldn't stand it and slammed his fist into the mirror.

Dean had stared after Sam, then started to pace. Those words would never have fallen from Sin's lips. That manner of speech, yeah, distinctly sounded like a captain. The unsettled feeling in his belly wouldn't go away. Nor would the nagging wish to see Sin winking at him, or pushing him to have sex or...

Licking his lips, Dean reminded himself this is what he'd wanted. It just... the personality change had been unexpected. Walking to the counter, he called in a dinner order for something plain. Burgers and fried potatoes. And grog, he knew he could use some even after last night's excesses.

He heard the sound from the bathroom, but forced himself to stay in the kitchen and living room area. Maybe Sam didn't want to be hovered over. If he needed a moment to himself, Dean would give it to him.

Sam was surprised the noise hadn't brought in Dean with a cry of "Sin!" on his lips, looking aghast and taking Sin's hand and cleaning it free of the glass and demanding to know what was wrong and what he was thinking. Just another reminder of how drastically their relationship had already changed. Dean's lack of concern...by the Lords, it hurt. It cut deeper than any of the glass had cut his hand.

Sin had been right. To lose the collar was to die. With no Dean to take care of him, Sam rinsed the blood from his hand and pulled out the couple pieces of glass with hardly a wince. The pain was inconsequential. He wouldn't even have bothered to bandage his hand except he didn't want to get blood all over Dean's quarters. So he bandaged it, even if he did a sloppy job of it. He just didn't really care. Picking up the big pieces of glass he tossed them in the trash. Leaving the bathroom he retrieved the small vac and cleaned up the rest of the glass so it wouldn't cut bare feet in the morning. After cleaning up the mess he'd made he left the bathroom wordlessly and went to the computer. He typed in the request for a new mirror for Dean's bathroom. It would probably be here by morning if not before. They seemed to be very efficient around here.

Shadow was already up on Sam's lap batting at his hands. Now he remembered why he didn't like cats. They could be damned annoying. Maybe he could find Shadow a good home with some kid who would appreciate and love her. He carried her as he went to sit down on his cot. She promptly retrieved a string from her bed under Sam's cot and hopped up in front of him, meowing around the string in her mouth. With a sigh, Sam dragged the string around. He did chuckle a little at her enthusiasm. When he heard that dinner arrived he didn't bother to get up. Although he was hungry, he didn't feel like eating.

"Sam, dinner." It had taken every last shred of Dean's control not to walk into the bedroom, not to make sure he was okay, not to hover, but now Dean walked to the door and looked inside. He gave a small smile at seeing Sam playing with the cat, though his brows furrowed at seeing the bandaging. "You hurt yourself." Dean rested his forehead on the door frame, then pulled his head back. "Please come and eat," he said, looking into the eyes of the stranger wearing Sin's face.

"Thank you Dean, but really, I'm not hungry right now. Maybe later. Just wrap it up and stick it in the fridge. I think...I think I'll lay down and try to get some sleep." Sam wasn't tired, even though part of him was, but he figured that answer would keep Dean at bay if nothing else. He let the kitten catch the string. "Put it up, little one," he ordered the kitten gently. Once the kitten jumped down to do what it was told, Sam stretched out on the cot, not bothering to undress, not even bothering to climb under the covers.

"If you need anything..." Yeah, Dean wasn't used to being ignored. Not by Sin. "Alright," he mumbled and backed into the kitchen. Opening up his food, he took a single bite, and tossed the rest of the sandwich back down. Staring aimlessly for a little while, he eventually got up and put Sam's food away, then opened a bottle of grog for himself. Instead of going to the bedroom to watch the viewscreen offerings from bed, he went and sat down on the sofa.

Though he surfed the channels and drank, his mind was on the man in the other room. There wasn't a sound out of Sam. Maybe he was exhausted and had fallen asleep. Maybe tomorrow, he'd see in Sam more of the man he... he what? Cared for? It was more than that, but it wasn't a forever type of love. That wasn't for Dean, and he'd made that clear to Sin. But this man who'd replaced him, Dean wasn't sure what he needed. It was like starting all over again, except there had been no icebreaker in the form of drug induced heightening of his libido leading to a sex-filled night. Eyes darkening at the thought, Dean forced himself to watch the shows that were on.

Centars later, he woke with a start. He'd fallen asleep on the couch. Getting up, he got a drink of water and stripped for bed. Creeping quietly into the dark bedroom, he got under the covers of his bed and rolled onto his side, where he could make out Sam's fully dressed body on the cot.

*
Sam laid there staring at the wall. Things were quiet in the other room and he knew Dean hadn't eaten either. Well it wasn't his job anymore to look after the warrior. They'd wanted Sin gone, they'd wanted their beloved Sam back. Sin liked himself, mostly. Things might bother him, freak him, but they generally passed. He didn't have to do anything as Sin except love his master, love the one with whom he was sharing quarters. Sam, he didn't just hate himself, he loathed himself. He could barely remember the times before the mission. Sure, bits and pieces, but his mind was locked on his Cylon capture, torture, freezing, questioning, and finally being sold, humiliated, trained. One day he gave in and simply let it all go.

He knew who he was. Sam. He knew who he had once been. Captain Sam, Wesson clan. Warrior. Best friend of the commander of the Starfire, John, Winchester clan. But he didn't want to be Sam anymore. Sam had betrayed himself on too many levels to count. So he embraced being Sin. He made people happy. He was fracking good at what he did. Everyone wanted a night of Sin. Sure, there were bad nights. Yes, he had no control over his own life. And when Thiros sold him he would probably want to die because Marchielle wanted him and would pay anything to have him. Even so, he felt the slavery was just payment for what he had done. It was kinder than what he deserved, because he did have moments, even whole evenings, of sheer joy.

Now though, now he had let Sin go. He lost the happiness a part of him had felt. Certainly the fear of being found out was dust. Dean said he was a hero. That was a joke. If the history books knew how he had broken, how he had begged the Cylons to stop, just stop...that was a coward, not a hero.

These and thoughts like them twirled round and round in Sam's mind. Shadow had curled up with him, purring softly. A robotic cat. Purring. It didn't need to sleep or eat or defecate. It didn't know anything but joy and love. Wouldn't that be perfect. Wouldn't that be...Sin.

He heard when Dean slipped into the room, heard the covers thrown back and the bed creak ever so slightly. Dean's eyes were on him, he knew. Every night Sin had slipped into Dean's bed after Dean fell asleep. But Sin wasn't here anymore. When he heard Dean's breathing level out, he finally sank into his own sleep.

Chapter Text

The nightmares were on him almost immediately. He whimpered, begging the Cylons to stop. He saw himself, no, he saw Sin, happily in Dean's arms, kissing him, love in his eyes. And Dean loved him back. Loved him back so much, it was obvious to see. He watched the two lovers walk away into the mist of the icy vapors of the cryo-tube, and he began to sob, his tears freezing on his face and the world around him ceased to be anything but cold empty nothingness.

"Sin. Sam!" Dean crouched next to the cot and shook the man's shoulders. "Sam it’s a dream, wake up. Wake up, Sam." Just like Sin, Sam wasn't responsive. Pulling the blanket back, Dean crawled into the cot and half rolled on top of Sam, and kissed him on the lips. "Come back... wherever you are, come back to me. Please," he pleaded, lowering his mouth one more time, this time pushing his tongue deep inside Sam's mouth in a heated kiss.

In the darkness, in the cold, he felt a blanket of warmth wrapped around him, warmth that touched his lips, touched his body, and touched his soul. He reached out, searching for the light that would bring him home. In his arms he felt that warmth, he felt the kiss, and the tongue that demanded response. He kissed back, not caring who was there, only caring that someone was, that someone needed him and even if they didn't love him, he could pretend they did. He held that body to him so tightly, afraid if he loosened his hold at all, that body would turn to vapor and disappear into the night, lost to him.

Dean had feared Sam would be different to deal with, might not react to his kisses the way Sin had. At his most confused and distressed moments, Dean had been able to get through to Sin and calm him like this, in a way that the doctors would likely frown upon. It seemed Sam was no different, or at least that this had him calming. "Right here," he crooned, kissing him again, hardly able to breathe because Sam was pulling him down so hard. "Shshsh...Sa--" he found his tongue sucked into Sam's mouth, and gave up trying to talk. One hand cupping the side of Sam's face, he used his thumb to wipe away his tears as they kissed as passionately and as desperately as if this was Sin under him.

Sam felt the gentle hand along his face and the tears being wiped away and a sob broke in the back of his throat even as he kissed the person he held so close. He needed this to be real, he needed this to be a symbol of forgiveness that he could nestle in his heart even when things were at their grimmest. He rolled them over so he was on top, so that his lover couldn't escape and disappear into the darkness that filled him. His hand ran over smooth skin and muscle, finding a nipple and rubbing his thumb caressingly over it. His cock was growing hard inside his pants as he continued to ravage his lover's mouth with his own. Reaching between them he opened his pants, groaning as he released himself.

Dean was surprised when instead of pleading for more, the way Sin would have, Sam reversed their positions and took control of the kiss. Only, the way Sam moved over him wasn't controlled so much as it was desperate and demanding. Their teeth clinked together, his lips were crushed with bruising force. He felt Sam lift slightly, heard the sound of pants being roughly opened, and then felt Sam's hard cock press against his thigh and belly. Giving an answering groan, Dean put his arms around Sam, cupping the back of his head as they kissed. Trying to stop him, to slow him down, he broke the kiss and started to whisper, but found his mouth taken again. It was like trying to stop a ship on a micron's notice... impossible, so he went with it, kissing Sam back, lifting his hips and giving him the pressure he needed.

Sam felt the body arch up against him, against his hardened member and groaned into his lover's mouth. Both of them still had their undershorts on He pulled his down, exposing himself, then tugged down the other's the next time his lover lifted. He knew it was a man, and part of him was okay with that and part of him was a little surprised. It didn't matter. He just needed this. He thrust against the body, their hard cocks sliding by one another, cum wetting both of their stomachs. His lover had cupped the back of his head, but Sam's hand went to the man's face, guiding the kisses, maintaining the control he had so long been denied. He thrust harder and faster, almost desperately, his cock leaking profusely at this point.

"Come for me, baby, come for me," Sam begged, sliding his hand down Dean's side and to his ass.

Dean's labored breaths sounded around them. He was just hanging onto Sam, knowing ... sensing that Sam didn't even know who he was, but when he tried to ask... the way he used to make sure Sin knew who he was his, Sam didn't listen and kept working his mouth over Dean's. "Sam?" he asked again, but it was too late. They'd been going at it too hard and fast, his cock was raw but so fucking hard he needed to come. Sam's hand on his ass, sliding toward his crack, his guttural plea... that did it. Arching up, Dean's head went back, digging into the cot as intense waves of pleasure slammed into him. "Sam..." he cried out, biting his lower lip as he came against Sam, a thick rope of cum spurting between them. "Fuck..." he tensed as another rope of cum left him.

Sam felt the explosion of cum against his stomach and let out his own cry of pleasure at both hearing his name--his name--sounding so loved, so needy, and feeling his own release join that of his lover's. Their cum spreading over their stomach's mixing and making their skin slick as each released second and third spurts. Sam's entire body had locked up frozen as he came. By the Lords, the waves of pleasure filled him, rippling through him and he collapsed down onto the man in his arms. He kissed the man slowly, gently now.

"Thank you," he finally whispered as his hands ghosted over the man's sweat drenched body and through his damp locks. He felt forgiven, loved, and maybe even a little redeemed. He shouldn't, but he did and his senses were finally come back to him.

The hell... that had been intense. Dean's entire body was still thrumming from it, his skin burning from the sheer friction between their bodies. He let out a breath, locking one leg around Sam's. "Fantastic. That's usually what I hear, not 'thank you'," he teased, lifting his face up and collecting another kiss. This time he pushed his tongue into Sam's mouth and explored it at a leisurely pace, turning him over onto his side as they continued to kiss. When they ran out of breath, Dean broke the kiss but stayed close, his hand running down Sam's side, over the dips and ridges of his muscles.

Sam thoroughly enjoyed and responded to Dean's expert tongue. He liked the man's touch on his body and he found that just a little odd to. He had never slept with a man before he had been made to as a slave. Yet this man...the way he felt in this man's arms was unlike anything he could remember. Even Trishan, whom he had fully intended to get sealed to.

"You make me feel special," Sam said, staring into his eyes. "You make me feel stronger than I ever thought I could feel again."

Sam realized he was still practically dressed. He pulled off his shirt and used it to wipe the worst of the cum from their stomachs and kicked off his shoes and divested himself of his pants and undershorts. "Can we move to your bed? It's bigger. And the blankets aren't soaked with sweat and...everything."

"Yeah... sure." Grabbing Sam's shoulder, Dean pulled himself up and swung his legs off the side of the cot. Of course he'd heard what Sam said, but wasn't sure how to answer so he ignored it. Getting off the bed, he stretched, and felt Sam's gaze on him. It wasn't a leer, more like an exploration, like Sam was seeing him for the first time. Half grinning, half chuckling, Dean hurried to his bed and got in, making room for Sam.

Sam climbed out of bed and reached underneath it, running his hand twice down the kitten's back where it was curled up, having moved when Sam began thrashing around and Dean had joined him. Sam walked over to Dean's bed and hesitated only a moment, smiling down at the man before he climbed in, turning, so Dean was spooned up against him. He took Dean's hand and pulled it so Dean's arm was wrapped around him then tugged the blanket up closer. He twisted his head and gave Dean a gentle loving kiss then turned back and settled, closing his eyes with a sigh. He had a feeling he'd have no more nightmares tonight.

* * *

They'd both awakened centons before Dean's alarm clock was set to go off. They'd each taken showers and dressed. It had been a little quiet, a little strained between them. Sin had always rushed to cover any awkward moments, but Sam was more silent.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "You wanna go out for breakfast? It's so fucking early hardly anyone will be around."

Sam gave Dean a smile. "I would love to get out of here for a few centars. I guess I keep forgetting the door's not locked." He looked down at Shadow who held a toy mouse by its tail, looking up at him plaintively. He picked the cat up and chuckled as he stroked its fur. "You are going to demand a lot of attention aren't you, brat? After I get back, I'll throw the ball or the mouse or the string or whatever. You may not need to eat, but I do. And I'm starved. My empty stomach trumps your begging." He sat the cat back down on the floor and tossed the mouse for it once. He straightened and looked at Dean. "So where to?"

It had been a lot easier than Dean expected. Sin would have asked to have a quiet breakfast together. Sam... Sam seemed as eager as himself to get out of being cooped up alone. Not that Sam bothered him, not at all, but Dean didn't know how to deal with him yet. And Sam, he didn't have Sin's social skills that would make the situation easier. "You'll see, I know you'll like it," he said, heading for the door.

"If it serves decent food, I don't care if we're sitting on the floor," Sam said, but reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder before he'd quite reached the door and turned him to face him. "This is...odd. I know it, I can see it in your eyes that I'm...well, I'm not the man you're used to. I'm not sure who I am anymore." He reached up and touched his bare neck. "It feels odd and if it's any consolation, I kinda miss him too. He...dealt with things better." He brushed a lock of hair off Dean's forehead. "You don't know how much it meant to me, last night, having you with me."

After hesitating a moment, he kissed Dean lightly on the lips, and felt the blush crawl up his face. "A lot."

"Yeah?" Putting one arm around Sam to hold him close for a moment, Dean licked his lips. "I'm glad you let me in. I mean..." it was Dean's turn to feel heat rising to his cheeks. "I wasn't sure you wanted... that. Sin..." he smiled. "I was just getting used to him, you know? You're... more complicated," he finally settled on that description.

"I don't know what I want, Dean. Sin was definitely less...complicated. He was a defense mechanism. I recognize that. He didn't need to think beyond the moment. He couldn't. I can't," he shook his head as he wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him closer, looking into his jade eyes, "I can't help but think beyond the moment, looking into the future, and it scares the felgercarb out of me." Placing his hand lightly on Dean's cheek, he kissed him a little more deeply, then broke it off. "And you confuse the hell out of me."

"That's exactly what the doctors said would happen if we kept having sex," Dean said, a stab of guilt going through him. He wasn't the one who was fucked up. He should have been the strong one. He should have been the one who refused to have sex, who drew the lines. And yet with Sin, he swore he'd seen an improvement because they were physically close. He ran his knuckles down the side of Sam's face, then pulled away. He didn't make the suggestion they stop... he wasn't sure he could with Sam right here in his quarter and with memories of Sin floating around in his head.

"Hey," Sam said, his hand on Dean's arm. "Just because you confuse me...doesn't mean I don't need you. Things have changed. It's just going to take some time on both our parts to figure out what path we need to fly. What ones we want to fly. Sin needed you desperately. He needed your love and approval and protection. I need your strength. Sin couldn't face this alone...I don't want to face this alone." He gave Dean a smile and jerk of his head toward the door. "Okay let's go before Shadow decides I obviously have time to play with her and before my stomach finishes off the backbone it's been gnawing on all morning."

"You're not alone, no matter what path we fly," Dean told him, giving the cat a brief look, then meeting Sam's gaze once more before striding out the door. There weren't many people in the corridors because of the hour. If they'd been on a planet with a sun like the one on his homeworld, it would have been two hours before dawn.

They went in a different direction than they'd ever been before. With Sin, Dean had only gone places that were on the way to the doctors, but Sam seemed more adventurous. They took the lift up, and arrived at a floor with quite a lot of eateries. "This one's got your name on it," Dean said, as they walked into Galaxy Quest Cafe. Knowing how much Sam enjoyed being in that astronavigation room, which some called ‘The Hand of God,’ where he could see space overhead and around him, Dean chose one of the few socially purposed places on the ship which had a true view of space outside its metal windows. Many other locations had view screens of space, but anyone who'd regularly flown in space would know the difference. "Over there," he said, selecting a booth near a window.

As he slid into the booth, Sam's eyes went to the viewports. It was a nice view. He stared out at the stars. He missed them. He missed flying. He had always loved flying and was damned good at it. He was a hot pilot at one time, there was no arguing that. The thought of getting in a viper now? He just knew he couldn't. He could barely deal with his memories as it was. Being in a viper? He'd probably just lock up. Maybe...maybe he could get a shuttle pilot's license. Maybe he could do that. At least then he could still see the stars like this.

He put his hand on the glass of the viewport. It was just a little cool beneath his fingers. All the lights in the eatery were kept dimmed so the stars could be seen. "I like this place," Sam said and ran his finger over the computer screen that had lit up in the table top when he sat down. He scanned over the selections and punched in his order then turned his attention back to the view of space.

"Easier to get to than that astro room and less ear damage on the way," Dean grinned, watching Sam's profile as the man stared out the window. A beeping drew his attention, and he realized he needed to make his own selection. Hanging around Sin had made him get used to the other guy putting in his orders, even when it wasn't something Dean expected. He quickly typed in his own order. "It's a good place to bring a date, in the night hours," Dean said. Twice in a twenty four hour period, the decor changed to their evening style.

Sam turned and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Date, huh?" He bumped Dean's knee under the table. "If I'd known this was a date, I'd have put on nicer clothes."

Dean's head jerked up, his eyes meeting Sam's. He knew Sam was teasing, and answered in kind. "I dunno, you look pretty damned good to me." Bumping his own knee against Sam's, for a micron he could imagine being at ease in each others' company. It was like catching a glimpse of what it might be like if they became friends.

Sam almost laughed at the look that passed across Dean's face momentarily. "I'd tell you to watch it, I'm not that easy, but I guess you know I am," he smirked.

Laughing and shaking his head, Dean acknowledged the truth of that. "Who wants a prude, anyway?" If he'd been a prude, there was no way in hell Sin could have gotten him in bed the first night they'd met... drugs or no drugs, Dean was pretty sure about that. "Child molester on the other hand..." He gave Sam a look, "yeah I'm looking at you. I was... and you were..." he put one hand up at waist level and the other above his head, "when we first met." Dean wasn't about to mention Sam was technically almost his dad's age, not now.

"I seem to recall you were the one on top of me this morning kissing me back to consciousness. Now, I know you're young and inexperienced and all, but I think you might be taking advantage of me, not the other way around." He gave Dean a look, "And besides I'm not the one with the upside down fetish."

Dean felt his color rise and he looked away as the coffee was delivered to their table. As soon as the waitress moved away, he turned back. "I didn't know I had that fet... until you," he hissed.

Sam burst into laughter. "You're adorable when you blush. And sputter with indignation." After taking a sip of his coffee he said, "They called him Sin for a reason. You barely scratched the surface. One look, one word, and he could melt anyone who had been with him. He could find out anyone's kinks. He was very very good at reading people and determining what they most needed. Like you need to catch your prey to make it the best. Of course he loved being chased and loved to tease. He could keep a person on the edge for hours, practically torturing them with pleasure if that was their taste in lovemaking."

Tugging at his collar and not real thrilled at having his bedroom pleasures analyzed in such detail, Dean brought the steaming hot mug of coffee to him mouth and took a drink. Giving Sam a quelling look, one that usually worked on the warriors he commanded, Dean changed the topic. "Do you play triad? I thought you might want to go to the gym later, a little one on one with me?" Of course he knew Sam had played the game in his youth, he remembered his dad talking about games where together they beat other players.

A smirk tugged at Sam's lips. Even though he knew that look, had seen it on Dean's father's face an innumerable number of times, it didn't stop him now any more than it did then. "All this talk of sex and the newest topic you come up with has us playing with each others' balls?" After taking a sip of his coffee. "Yes, I used to play triad, but you know that. Sure. I would beg a young whippersnapper to go easy on someone who hasn't played in a quarter of a century though."

Sputtering his coffee, then coughing, Dean glared at Sam. What the hell, he was as bad as Sin. But different, Sin would never have bluntly called him out on knowing his past. "I've seen you bend your body at angles that should be illegal, I'm not buying that," he finally answered. "But if you want, I can drop you off at the gym after your appointment... and you can get all the practice you need."

Sam hid his grin behind his coffee cup. "No, you hardly saw the full repertoire of bends and angles. But it has been yahrens since I've played. Actually, yeah, I would like to go to the gym. I'm much more accustomed to full scale weight machines." He frowned a moment. "What appointment?" he asked warily.

Dean raised his brow, then held his breath. "Your standing appointment with Dr. Mars. And tomorrow you're supposed to start group therapy."

Sam set the coffee down and met Dean's gaze evenly. "You can cancel my standing appointment with the doctor. I'm not going."

"What? No." Their gazes locked, they waged a silent battle. "I'll go with you, like I always have. It's never as bad as you think." Reaching across the table, he grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed it, noting instantly that Sam didn't try to hold his hand, didn't seek the type of reassurance Dean was trying to give. It was almost like giving someone a kiss and getting a blank stare. He released Sam's hand, but didn't look away.

Sam sensed a flat out battle of wills with Dean wouldn't convince Dean to back down. "I am not going." He finally took Dean's hand back in his own. Dean responded well to physical contact with Sin and he wasn't above using that to his advantage. "Look, I get that I will need to talk with someone eventually but I am not ready to discuss what is going on inside me right now. I need some time to sort some of this out on my own, figure out what I need to talk about, what I'm ready to talk about. And if you'll recall, Dr. Asshole is the one who made Sin snap in the first place. I swear I will punch him out, then disappear. Ask your father just how good I am at not being found if I don't want to be found. You want me better. I want me better. But I am not ready to discuss a fracking thing with that man. Not yet."

Dean gaze went to their joined hands, then back up to Sam's face. "Maybe Sin needed to snap. Maybe it was time for Sam... for you," he said, gripping Sam's hand tight, afraid he'd run now. "And if you don't like him, there are other doctors to choose from. What you do not need to do is pull back inside." Problem was, that was exactly what Dean would want to do in the same situation. "Look, don't blackmail me with disappearing or I will have your ass tagged so you can't." His nostrils flared slightly. "One day. Today, I'll cancel it, but tomorrow you're seeing the doc."

"Sin was doing better, getting his feet under him and you damned well know it. Yeah, the truth about me, about our past, that would panic him. He didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't ready to talk about it, and neither am I. And no, I don't particularly like Dr. Asshole. And what I do need is some fracking time." Sam's gaze challenged Dean though he didn't try to pull his hand free of Dean's tight grip. "Tag me like a prisoner? Like a slave? Like they had Sin tagged? After the pain and torture I've been through, what makes you think I couldn't dig a fucking transponder out of bone if need be? I will go. When I am ready. If that's not good enough, then throw my fracking ass in the brig and see how much cooperation you get out of me."

Maybe Sam didn't mean to accuse him of being like his captors, maybe he did. Dean would never know. Unused to having his will challenged, especially by the man sitting across from him, he stood up. "I got you out of there. Don't ever talk to me like I'm one of them again," he said, voice low, almost deathly quiet. "Have your breakfast and find your own way back." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, refusing to acknowledge the waitress who had both their orders on a tray.

Sam watched Dean leave, surprised but also a little hurt. What the hell had Dean expected him to say when he threatened to have Sam tagged? He wasn't a fracking daggit to be led on a leash. Sin considered Dean his owner and would do whatever ever Dean wanted, whether he wanted to do it or not. Sin was gone. It was Sam now and Sam had had enough of being someone else's slave and answer box. He was not ready to talk about it. He was still all twisted up inside, still waiting on security to take him away and frankly, if they came for him, it probably would just push him right over the edge he was already teetering on and there would be no coming back. He had appreciated Dean's strength, the way Dean had looked after Sin, and was trying to look after him, but dammit, he wasn't a fucking slave to be told what to do. He would make his own choices.

He gave the waitress a slight nod. "Thank you. Something came up and he had to leave. Warrior business and all."

Sam wasn't stupid. This was on Dean's cubits and he would damned well eat the food...and wasting food was a crime. So he ate his breakfast and stared out at the stars. Find his own way back...that's exactly what he was trying to do and wished they'd just back off and give him that chance. Since they apparently wouldn't, he would take his things and relocate. It was obvious Dean was done with him. He winced at that thought and buried that pain along with everything else. Without Dean to goad him into going to the doctor, he doubted he ever would. He would find some no-name job on some no-name ship and fade into himself. He snorted to himself at that. No, no he wouldn't. He would re-locate, tend to a few things, and then do what Sin had only dreamed of doing. Finish it. The final solution. Without someone...without Dean...he didn't think he could make it alone. He was just too broken for that.

After finishing his meal he headed back to Dean's quarters. So much for 'home.' He would leave most of Sin's things. He wouldn't need much. But he would take the kitten. He could use the company, if only for a little bit. It did make him smile sometimes.

* * *
Dean had another cup of coffee next to him and was furiously typing at the computer. He would go into work a little later, but he focused the emotions that had him on edge to get some of his neglected paperwork in. Plus soon they'd be nearing new star systems and there would be missions that had to be taken care of. He wasn't a nursemaid. Guess he wasn't good at it, anyway.

He heard the door hiss open, then heard the footsteps. He'd been working in the bedroom and turned his chair around to look over at Sam. The other man's features were hard and stoic, as unlike Sin as he could be. "I am not the enemy," he said eventually, to Sam.

"No, you're not," Sam agreed as he pulled out a duffel and began sorting through the clothes and packing some of them. The kitten hopped in the bag. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you behind," he said pulling the kitten out and setting it on the bed. His voice was thicker with emotion than he would have liked. The plant he would hand off to the agro ship. It did fruit if watered daily and they might find it useful. The remaining bottle of ambrosa...he'd take that. He'd drink it, savor it, on his last night. It would make it that much easier, he was certain. The other things Sin had bought he really had no use for. Dean could take them back and get the cubits for them. Or pitch them. It didn't really matter to him. He would provide Bistronea's transponder code to the fleet since she might be able to provide them useful intel.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, stupidly after watching him pack for a few moments. When he got no answer, he pushed away from the desk and strode to Sam, gripping his arm. "Stop. Please." He searched Sam's face. "Where are you going? This is... Goddammit, this is your home until you're ready to be on your own... and you're not ready Sam, not by a long shot."

Sam stared into those beautiful eyes. He never would have believed he would fall for a man. "No, I'm not," Sam said, his voice shaking a little. "But I've spent my last three or four or however many yahrens being told what I can and can't do, what's permissible and what's not. I'm finally not a prisoner, not a slave anymore. I can't...I won't be ordered around like I am still one. I just can't do that. Sin didn't want to see the doctor because he was afraid they would find out about me. I don't want to see the doctor because I'm just not ready to. That's my choice. I'm not refusing because I'm scared...well, okay, maybe there's some fear in there, but it's because I'm broken and I at least want the gods damned chance to go through the pieces a little before some doctor starts poking his fingers in and telling me what I am and what I'm not. I need to figure that out. Me. At least get the pieces laid out in some sort of order so when I do go see the doctors I know what I need." He ran his fingers lightly along Dean's face. "I'm sorry you don't understand that. But I can't stay here and take orders like that. Not from anyone. I'll...I'll find someplace."

"No." As soon as the word came out of his mouth, Dean pulled away. "Sorry." He ran his own hand over his face and took a deep breath. "If you really want to leave, let me get housing assigned for you. Don't go off, like this," he said. "Look, I'm not trying to drive you away... with what I said at the cafe and... it's just how I am." He shrugged. "I told you that when you first moved in." He knew that had been Sin, but at the end of the day, one was part of the other, had to be. "I'm not easy. I'm not diplomatic. I don't have a light touch. If that's what you need... then yeah, you won't find it here. What you will find here, with me, is someone who gives a damn. I do," he locked gazes with Sam. "I may not know exactly how to deal with you, but I care." Dragging his gaze away, and looking at the wall behind Sam, he added. "I wanted Sin to think for himself, make his own decisions. Maybe I just... I gotta learn to accept it now that he... you... do make them."

Sam almost laughed when the order of "No" came out of Dean's mouth. Dean was a captain. He was used to his crew responding instantly to him, to arguing any point later only if they really thought he was in the wrong. You had to be like that to keep everyone alive. The crew had to be like that to stay alive. He got that. "I honestly don't remember what you told me," Sam admitted. "Sin was pretty shaken and was too relieved to be back with you for that. You could have told him he had to eat glass once a day and he would have readily agreed. I don't need a diplomat. I don't need a light touch. And you do yourself a disservice. You handled Sin very well, and he manipulated the hell out of you to get what he wanted. I don't have the skill and charm Sin had. I was a Captain too. I'm stubborn, hard headed, and there are certain things I simply won't compromise on. I don't care if you argue with me. There are times I need that because I am the way I am. But I'm not going to walk on eggshells around you Dean. That's just cold hard fact."

Sam stepped close to Dean and cupped the side of Dean's face. "I need someone who cares about me. In a couple weeks I probably will need someone to badger me about being ready to see the doctors because I will probably get comfortable with just burying everything and not want to go. You didn't go to the psychs after the Final Destruction even when you more or less told Sin you needed to," Sam pointed out. "I don't want to leave here. I need your strength to help me stand because I'm still scared out of my fracking wits. I'm still waiting for security to show up at the door and haul me away. But I do need the chance to spread my wings and I need the chance to screw up and as pathetic as it sounds, have someone to hold me and tell me it's okay I fracked everything up, that it can be fixed and that we'd fix it together."

Listening, Dean pressed his lips together in a firm line. Yeah, there was a lot of truth in what Sam was saying, but Dean hadn't told him he had to walk on fucking eggshells. Neither of them should have to do that. There was a helluvalot of b.s. in there too. Comparing his own condition to Sam's was ridiculous. He had never been in the state that Sam was in, and if he had, he'd have been relieved from duty. Comparing the two situations was like comparing day to night or a sun baked desert planet to a frozen one. Maybe their reactions to the situations were the same, but that was where the similarities ended. Despite all that, a sense of relief flooded Dean on hearing that Sam didn't want to leave, that he realized he did need help.

"I want to stay, but I'm not going to see the doctor for at least a week. If you can't deal with that, then find me quarters and I'll be out of your hair." Sam pulled Dean into his arms and looked down at him, wanting very much to kiss him, but not wanting to make this harder than it already was.

Enveloped in Sam's arms, Dean searched his face and his own feelings. Sam was right, Sam didn't have Sin's charm or manipulative powers. Sure he was damned attractive, how could he not be? And yeah, Dean could easily see himself tumbling into bed with him, right here, right now, and forgetting everything else. But on a certain level, he knew or suspected Sam was trying Sin's tactics out on him. If this had been Sin, by now he'd have melted Dean's heart and had him all twisted up on the inside, wheedled him into being willing to do anything for him. By way of the physical contact, Sam was trying to control or manipulate... to extract an agreement from Dean. That didn't sit too well with Dean, even if he knew had their situations been reversed, he'd play the same game.

Stiffening, Dean pulled out of Sam's arms and once again moved away, this time putting a lot more distance between them and crossing his arms. "A week. I can deal with that," he agreed, choosing that period as the maximum. "Eggshells... I don't want to walk on them either. I don't want to be worried that every time I say something you don't like you'll threaten this..." he pointed his chin toward Sam's bag. "To leave."

The way Dean pulled away from him, like he had done something wrong, scorched him and it hurt. Dean said he gave a damn yet he was acting like Sam was one of his officers instead of his...lover. Sam's eyes narrowed a little. "I said at least a week. I'll agree to one to two weeks. If I haven't found my footing within two weeks, you have full rights to drag me kicking and screaming to the doctor, because at that point, I'll need someone to if I haven't found the strength to go myself."

A muscle pulsed in Dean's jaw. He should have expected this. He didn't like it, being challenged like this.

"Dean, I may be pretty screwed up, but don't treat me like someone in your squadron. I'm not. I'm not going to take orders. I get it. I really do. You're a captain and I understand the type of personality that goes with that rank. Every time you say something I don't like and I buck against it, you can't just stomp off. I'll admit it, I'm as fragile as Sin. You pulling away right now, it hurts. Look at the distance you've put between us, the way you're holding me and your emotions at arm's length. You could have stood here, held me, and said 'okay' instead of shutting me out. You say you give a damn about me but..." Sam ran his hand through his hair. "...okay, that's not fair to you. I'm treating you like you love me and you already told me or Sin or whoever that this wasn't love." Sam felt his shoulders sag. It hurt. By the Lords, it hurt. "Don't stomp off. Don't abandon me. You wouldn't have left Sin sitting in that restaurant this morning. But you left me. What did you expect me to do? If I can't count on you to listen to me and listen to what I want, and not try to force your will onto me, I'm going to run as readily as Sin would have when he got shaken by something."

Dean didn't respond, he just looked steadily back at Sam. Some of the things the man said weren't fair, there was that. But that wasn't what bothered him as much as it felt a little as if his own actions were being blackmailed. Sam's personal list of things Dean couldn't do or else Sam would run. Hadn't Dean just said he didn't want to have to worry about that all the time? His nostrils flared, but he kept his mouth shut, wanting to see what was left of this tirade.

Sam wanted to step toward Dean, he wanted the comfort of the man's touch because with the way Dean was treating him, what little stability he thought he'd found was gone. Instead, he moved back to his cot and sat down on it, tears stinging his eyes. If he were still Sin, this wouldn't be happening. Dean would be comforting him instead of challenging him. He just wanted to be Sin again. He reached up to his bare neck and wished the collar were still there and that he was still Dean's. He suddenly felt his world crumble around him. The old Sam would have stayed strong, would have continued to hold his ground, but he only knew of one way to deal with pain now.

"Fine," he said softly. "Whatever you want, I'll do. If you want me to go see the doctor today, I'll go see him. I would prefer a different doctor, a woman who's not some harsh old biddy, but if you want me to see Dr. Mars, I will." He picked up the kitten and clutched it to his chest. "Whatever you want," he whispered, feeling himself withdrawing, sinking back into his nightmare life. It was just like with the Cylons, just like Thiros. He didn't have the strength or will to challenge anything, because it just didn't matter. He felt another part of him shatter into a few more pieces. He wasn't Sin. Dean didn't love him. He had no one that loved him except the little robotic kitten purring against his chest. How pathetic was that?

Watching Sam, seeing him give up, it made Dean want to throw up. He hated how he was feeling right now. Helpless and angry, and he didn't know what to do with it. Walking across the room, he pulled his chair across the floor to in front of Sam's cot, and sat down. Dry scrubbing his face, he leaned forward and stared at Sam's silhouette for a long moment. "I told you I do want you to think for yourself, that maybe I need to learn how to let you. I agreed you could wait to see the doc if that's what you want. I didn't ask for... for this, for you to do 'whatever I want.' If you've convinced yourself that's what happened here, then you're twisting my words." He was trying to remain calm. "I don't... I don't know what else to tell you, what else you want from me, Sam. I'm really trying."
Sam started to speak and found the lump in his throat hard to speak past. He cleared his throat and tried again. He was very good at repeating the rhetoric given to him, clearly and concisely. His voice was cold and unemotional even as he held the cat and continued to stroke it lovingly.

“You wish for me to stay. This is my home until I am ready to be on my own. You give a damn what happens to me. You will try to learn to accept the decisions I make for myself. Neither of us wish to walk on eggshells. I chose to see the doctor somewhere between one and two weeks. You have indicated you wish me to see him in no longer than a week, compromising after the diner in which you were only willing to give me a day. I am offering you that I will see him today or tomorrow as you originally wished. Since you pulled away from me I assume you do not wish me to initiate physical contact. I care about you deeply. You care about me deeply but in a different fashion. You will try to learn to allow me to make my own decisions. You make no promises we will not fight if I argue with you. You do not want me to run every time you storm off because you disagree with a choice I attempt to make. I will not run. You will have me tagged if I try. I will stay here until it is judged that I am able to take care of myself and will not turn to suicide. You believe I am twisting your words. I am repeating the words we have exchanged as I perceive them. You are trying to deal with Sam while you mourn the loss of Sin. You want to know what I wish from you. I wish the relationship to remain unchanged, but I am not Sin so that cannot be. You loved Sin though you deny it. Is my perception faulty or have I misinterpreted anything, sir? Please correct me if I did.”

Sam braced himself for the explosion he knew would come. Dean would once again storm out when faced with the re-iteration of the conversations they had. Sam thought he had gotten everything right but Dean thought he was twisting his words and manipulating him, blackmailing him, so he would find error in what Sam said, regardless of the veracity. There were more, many more impressions he had taken away with him, but he felt it unwise to discuss those. First rule. When questioned, you never gave them more than what they asked for.

"Enough," Dean grit out, though his voice was low and controlled. "If you're trying to get me angry, you're doing a damned good job. And if you're not... then you're still doing a good job," he said slicing his hand through the air and looking upwards. He had to rein in his temper, he really had to. Why had it been easier to with Sin? Dean took a deep breath and looked back down at Sam. "I want you to think for yourself and make decisions. I don't want you to turn into... into some robo pet, and what you did right now... acting like a dictaphone..." he shook his head as if his point had been made. "Beyond that... it ... it feels like you're doing it to mock me, or shove all this in my face, or something." He had to force those words out, he wasn't used to talking in terms of how something made him feel, but he'd seen Sin's sessions with the docs enough to know that they encouraged speaking about feelings, they said there was less to get confused about when it was about feelings rather than facts. "And yeah... I am having trouble with the personality change, okay? I need time too," he looked away.

Sam looked at him a little confused but quickly hid that feeling away. “I don’t understand. You said I was blackmailing you, twisting your words. I was repeating what I understood to be the truth so you could correct me. I’m not trying to mock you, and I’m not trying to upset you. I’m sorry if I am. I’m trying to understand where my place is. Sin was easy. He was yours. Heart, body, and soul. Anything you wanted he would try his best to give it to you. You smiled at him, you touched him, you encouraged him to try to be more.” Sam felt a flash of anger, even jealousy, and squelched it, but wasn’t sure he managed to keep it from his eyes. “When I try, I feel like you don’t like my answers and choices. You distance yourself from me. When people don’t like your choices and speak angrily to you and leave…punishment follows. That’s been my truth for these past yahrens. When my pain reaches a certain level,” he shrugged, “you see the truth. It’s easier, it hurts less, to simply do what’s asked instead of continuing to fight. I don’t know how else to function anymore.”

Sam started to reach out to Dean, to touch his face, then hastily pulled back. Dean didn’t want him to touch him unless Dean initiated it. “I’m sorry I’m not Sin, Dean,” he said softly.

Dean's heart clenched, felt like something was squeezing it hard, like he couldn't breathe. He reached out and took the hand that Sam withdrew, holding it in his. "Sin was... he was like your cat, you know?" Somehow Sin had been needier and clingier, he'd been a little childlike, or triggered strong protective feelings. "But I never wanted Sin to stay as he was, I wanted him to find you. I'm telling you the truth, and if you recall any of my conversations with Sin, you'll know it's the truth."

“You can’t deny Sin was a lot more fun to deal with…usually,” Sam said, but he felt a flicker of hope in his chest as he squeezed Dean’s hand back, probably almost painfully. “It was a lot more fun being Sin too…usually.” He set the kitten back down in the bag he’d been packing simply because he knew kittens loved bags and it would keep Shadow occupied.

Still holding Sam's hand, Dean searched his face. "When I walk away, I'm not walking away from you to punish you. It's how I'm programmed. I need to walk away from a situation, so I can think, that's all. I am not a warm and fuzzy man, Sam. Not naturally. And I do have a temper; the way I deal with it is to leave for a while. But I will always come back. Besides... where would I go?" he asked, trying to lighten up the situation.

Sam shuddered a little, “Let’s not use ‘programmed,’ huh? What was it that the doc said, take it out of your vocabulary.” He chewed over Dean’s words. “My mind is going to have a difficult time accepting that, but I’ll try.” He added hastily, “I don’t think you’re lying, it’s just not what I’m accustomed to. When I feel like the ‘old’ me, I can be strong, but it doesn’t take much to shake that. I’m not used to being confrontational any more, but I had grown comfortable enough with you that I felt I could argue and stand my ground. You walking away shook me up. Especially since you wouldn’t have left Sin alone like that. If you had, he would probably have gone looking for Mike, or come back here and been at your feet, trying to make it right between you two again.” Sam managed a small smirk. “And you can be warm and fuzzy. When you have those furry ears and eyebrows on.”

"For someone not used to being confrontational... you sure picked a winner," Dean responded, shaking his head but still smiling. "The furry ears and eyebrows were your idea, not mine. And just you remember, what happened there... stays there. I don't want any pictures of me in in furry gear popping up. There are enough of those on the squadron's party page on the fleetnet." Course he knew the first thing Sam would do was look at the pictures and some of them were damned embarrassing, but it was all in fun. "Are we still on for tonight? Triad?"

Triad. Yes they had been talking about triad when things went badly between them. "Uh, sure. I'll need some triad gear though. And unfortunately, you don't have to worry about the furry eared pictures. Sin didn't have a camera to take any. Besides, I don't want to show up on fleetnet with me in drag. Sin didn't mind it, he had to do a lot of role-play, but," Sam made a face, "I'd just as soon not be seen in a dress. Ever."

Staring into Dean's eyes, he finally gave a real smile. "Thank you Dean, for everything. For rescuing Sin, for coming after him on the asylum ship, for taking him to the agro ship, and for hunting me down in the Hand of God. I'm assuming John had a hand in that as no one else but he would have thought to look for me there. You've opened your quarters to me, you've comforted me when I've had nightmares, you looked after Sin when he was lost, when I've been lost. I know I'm still lost and I foresee rough skies ahead for both of us because, well, that's just the way we are. Please, no matter what I do...please don't give up on me even when I give up on myself. And please don't...please try not to pull away like you did a little bit ago. If you need to distance yourself, just guide me to a seat, make me sit down and sit down across from me. At least for now. At least until I get a little better. Sin begged you to be his owner for a little while, until he could stand on his own. Well, I need this for now, until I've dealt with some of my demons, until I get a little stronger."

The fact that Sam said John's name without rancor this time gave Dean some hope that the past would not always haunt Sam, that he could and would in time get over some of his issues, both real and imagined. "I'll try," Dean promised, "I'll try. And you... don't give up on me either, like you did back then." He gave Sam's bag a pointed look, then started to pull him up off the cot. "Come on lazy bones, let's go get you Triad gear, then I have to go to work. Trial missions against Blue Squadron. If you want to watch, I can arrange it." Before Sam could answer, and once he was up, Dean leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. "Don't think you're any less resistible than Sin, you're not." He was lying only a little, he did want both men equally really, but Sin could push his buttons more with all of his training.

Sam nodded. He wouldn't give up on Dean, no matter what. At Dean's suggestion he blanched. He wasn't sure he was ready to watch trial missions. No, he was pretty certain he wasn't. After he started going to the psych doctor, then he could probably handle it, or maybe even a few days from now. He was really afraid he would have another meltdown and he didn't think either he or Dean could deal with that so soon. If Dean was working and he fell into one of his waking nightmares, no that would be bad, especially as Dean tended to kiss him to get him out of them and he didn't want to embarrass Dean in front of two squadrons. Then Dean was kissing him and something inside him melted. All too fast it was over and he wanted to pull Dean back into his arms for a proper kiss. He smiled, a little embarrassed by Dean's words. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled Dean back into his arms, praying it wouldn't backfire on him and that Dean wouldn't push him away. He kissed Dean deeply, passionately, running his tongue along Dean's lips and as soon as Dean's lips parted, his tongue was in Dean's mouth, tangling with Dean's. He then let Dean chase his tongue back into his own mouth and he pulled Dean closer. When they finally had to break to catch their breath, Sam smiled at Dean. "Glad to know I'm irresistible too."

When Dean's arms fell from around Sam, he was breathing pretty hard. This man... he had no doubt that this man could affect him, no matter what. Hopefully he wasn't straining too badly against his tight fitting pants. "I think deep down, you know that," Dean said thickly, cocking his head to the side. "Now let's get out of here, before we don't." Quirking his brows, but making sure he stepped away before Sam had a chance to start some serious sexing, Dean headed for the door.

***

After they got Sam his triad gear, Dean headed to work while Sam returned to their quarters. Shadow had had quite enough of being ignored and pounced on Sam's boot practically as soon as he returned. He laughed and after setting down the bags, he spent the next half centar or more playing with the kitten. Shadow finally seemed more or less content but when Sam sat down at the computer, was immediately in his lap.

Sam decided to look at the pictures Dean had mentioned that were posted on the fleetnet. He laughed at some of them and thought it might be fun to print off a few of the more embarrassing ones and put them up in the quarters. Then he reached a couple that made his scowl. A handful of them had him with different girls. It reminded him again why he probably shouldn't stay. It wasn't really fair to Dean. Dean obviously had always been a ladies man. Now? Did Dean really want to develop a relationship with Sam? No, they'd already flown this course. Dean cared, would give him what he needed, help him through it, then help him move on, including helping him find a job and get quarters. If he were still Sin...he wasn't even certain Sin could have changed that outcome. He snorted. Who was he kidding? What Sin wanted, Sin generally got. Sin could be very underhanded and sneaky and manipulative. He probably could have convinced Dean to keep him around. Sam? Hell, Sam was still finding it strange he was so attracted to Dean. He didn't think he could seduce Dean like Sin could, either, even if Dean did call him irresistible.

He was startled out of his grim thought when the door buzzer went off. He got up, setting Shadow back down in the chair. When he opened the door he found two men with a package.

"We have the replacement mirror for your bathroom," one of them said.

"Oh," Sam looked down at his bandaged hand. "Right. Come on in."

The men were in and out in just a few centons. Sam paced a little after they left, feeling restless. After debating a bit, he decided it was time to retrieve Sin's collar. Then tomorrow he could take it over to the agro ship and lay Sin to rest. He wondered what the psychiatrist would say about that. it didn't matter he supposed. He felt like he needed to do it. For Sin.

After making certain Shadow was happily sleeping, or at least the robotic equivalent of such, he headed to the Hand of God. It was a fairly long walk, even taking the lifts. When he finally reached it, he looked out at the stars for a moment then turned to where Sin's collar lay...only it wasn't there. He felt a moment of panic. No. It had to be here! He hurried over to the spot where he knew the collar should be. He searched the entire chamber but the collar just wasn't there. He sank to his knees where he remembered dropping the collar, his hand brushing over the empty spot and felt the tears slide down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Sin. I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was going to give you peace, where you would have really liked it. I was." A sob choked him and he just sat there for a while, staring at the bare floor. He couldn't even bring himself to stare up at the stars he loved so much. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to come back here now, not without mourning Sin. He wiped his face free of the lingering tears and headed back to Dean's quarters, an ache in his chest.

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..."

Chapter Text

The breath seemed caught in Sam's chest when he saw the ships. They were going to get to the shuttle, encircled them, trap them and haul them back to the basestar. His ability to breathe returned but his breaths were rapid, too rapid, and he began to hyperventilate.

Vipers were leaving the Battlestar, heading toward the threat. Dean needed to be there, with his men. "Look at me, Sam. Sam, over here, look only at me," he insisted.

Sam's eyes were locked on those ships but the demanding voice made him turn his head. He knew to follow orders or he would be punished. He stared at the man, a part of his mind having no idea who he was while another piece of him clung to the fact it was Dean, his protector, his lover, his...master.

"Don't let them take me," he whispered, finally getting his breathing under control. "Please Master, don't let them take me again," Sin begged.

"I won't let anyone take you away. You're mine," Dean said with finality, recognizing Sin, knowing what he needed to hear. He wished he could pull him into his arms, but he couldn't, not with hostiles this close. "One point two centons and then I'll have you in the safest place you can be. Don't be afraid, you have my promise."

Approaching the Galactica, Dean started to tap on the flat screen, slowing the space craft and transmitting the code that would let the shuttle pass through the protective field of the docking bay.

Sam kept focused on Dean just as he told him to, not even looking to see how close they were to anything. Just a centon or two and he'd be safe. His master promised him and he believed him. As soon as the shuttle pod was down, Sin unbuckled himself and stood. When Dean stood up, he pulled Dean into his arms and gave him an intense if short kiss then backed away. "Go," he told Dean. "Save them. I'll be waiting. Come back safe."

He watched Dean race away then was herded off the shuttle and to safety. He went back to quarters and picked up Shadow, hugging her to him, and fell asleep, tears on his cheeks, praying to the Lords of Kobol that his master returned safely.

*

[4 Centars later]

Sam's eyes snapped opened and he took a sharp breath. He looked around the room almost panicked trying to place where he was, what had woken him, why his eyes felt gummed up like he'd been crying. Shadow was curled up against him but lifted her head when he woke. Sam pushed himself to his feet, patting her head absently, and tried to piece together what happened. The alert. The race to the shuttle. The...Cylons. His memory sort of grew hazy there. He realized the alert was over. That meant Dean would be coming back, landing in the bay... assuming he survived. He had to have survived, dammit, he had to have. Sam took off out the door and down the hallway, heading straight for the landing bays.

The returning vipers entered the bay one at a time, their engines screaming until shut down. Pilots were helped out, their crafts pushed away for the next arrival. Damage reports came in over the speakers. One viper was lost. Another was badly damaged and crew were standing by to put out fires. As blue squadron had taken off first, they were the first to return.

John landed his viper on the Galactica and without needing to be informed, knew this attack was going to trigger war councils that he we would need to attend. He hadn't yet taken his helmet off when he heard the reports. The casualties were in the red squadron. After climbing from his viper and stepping out of the way of the techs, he stood frozen in place, counting as vipers from red squadron started coming in on the heels of blue.

It wasn't clear which pilot was confirmed dead, and which one was in danger of having his viper disintegrate before or upon landing. John tried to find out, but no one knew anything yet. If he headed for the bridge, he was sure there would be more information, but he wouldn't--couldn't-- leave. He had to be here, he had to know.

Several more vipers came in and as each pilot took his or her helmet off, John grew a little more worried. Red alarm lights started to flash, indicating the damaged ship was on approach. Personnel moved back and robotic vehicles with fire retardant moved in. The sound of the engine of the viper that entered the bay was rough and one side of the craft was a ball of flames as it slid to a stop, canted sideways in the bay.

As the fire was put out, the pilot was pulled out and placed on a stretcher. It was Michael, and he was on the verge of losing consciousness. John was about to go talk to him when the last craft came in.

Seeing it was Dean that jumped down from the cockpit, John took a few long strides and gave his son a half hug, thumping him on the back. Barely any words were exchanged, but he helped take Dean's helmet off, looked him over, and walked out of the bay.

Wiping his face with one hand, Dean ran to the stretcher, squeezed Michael's shoulder and was told there would be a meeting on the bridge in one centar. Nodding, he headed out, undoing his jacket as he walked.

*

Sam had stood in the shadows, watching, staying out of the way of the crew, practically holding his breath as he watched viper after viper land. It was so strange not knowing the names of the young faces he saw climb from their craft. His squad was gone. He was no longer a captain. He wondered briefly if any of his squad had survived the Final Destruction, and if so, where they were now. He heard the murmurs of one viper lost, one from red. If it was Dean...he really didn't know what he would do. He would be lost. When had he become so weak that he needed someone else to hold him up, to help him through the centons, the centars, the day?

The day he gave in to the Cylons and their torture. Would he ever feel worth anything at all again? Maybe...maybe that's why he needed Dean. Dean made him feel valuable and even loved. Not necessarily romantic love, but the love of friendship, of a kindred soul. Most importantly, Dean made him feel forgiven when he couldn't even forgive himself.

He saw the damaged viper barrel into the landing bay. The damage was bad, but so long as the ship stayed together, the pilot would probably make it. The viper landed and crew rushed to pull him free of his blazing craft. Sam strained to see. It was Michael. Odds were he had a concussion, maybe even a couple broken bones out of a landing like that, but any landing you could walk away from, even if it meant being carried out on a stretcher, was a good landing.

Another viper landed. As soon as the man stood to climb out, Sam immediately knew it was Dean. He started to rush forward, to embrace Dean, thanking the Lords Dean had come home safely, but froze when he saw John, his former commander, his best friend. He watched the familiar greeting, the welcome home, the good job, that was all said without saying anything. He had stared into those eyes many a times, had felt the strong hand clasp his forearm, and felt the hand on his back. But now...now it was Dean. Sam was nothing. He was a shadow, just like those he concealed himself in. He watched Dean go over to Mike. The worry, the way the medics hurried, told him Michael was hurt, but it didn't appear to be life or death. He would visit Mike in a day or so and see how he was doing.

John had left the bay, Sam could approach Dean now but...there were too many memories, a collage of scenes of his days as a captain, of standing in a landing bay watching one of his pilots being taken away, of knowing one of his pilots would never return. He slid further back into the shadows and headed back to his quarters.

* * *

In the one centar before the meeting, Dean called his quarters. Sam either wasn't there or didn't take his call. Maybe he was laying on the cot in a trance again, or he was in that abandoned part of the ship where he'd taken his collar off. Dean's first instinct was to go find him, but duties were required of him. The death had to be reported to the family and he wanted to be the one who... yeah, it wasn't the best part of his job. He pushed aside his own grief at losing a man, he'd go there later. He also had to get together with the Captain of the blue squadron, compare notes and be ready to give a joint report. He almost called security to go check his quarters, but then thought of the effect on Sam. He knew Sin would freak out at a security detail, and he'd definitely seen Sin in Sam's eyes when they'd been in airspace where the Cylons were visible.

Cylons knew their location. This was not good. Grim faced, he headed to Captain Apollo's office, from where they'd head to the bridge.

* * *

A few centars later, he walked into his quarters. Seeing Sam on the couch, he let out a sigh of relief. Giving him a nod, he lowered himself onto the chair across from Sam and picked up the glass of gold elixir that Sam had clearly poured for him. There was another one in front of Sam, and the open bottle sat on the coffee table.

Knocking back half of it, Dean closed his eyes as it burned all the way down. "Needed this, thanks. You alright?" he asked, searching Sam's face. He seemed calm and collected now. "I called but you didn't pick up."

"Yeah. Wasn't here at the time I guess," Sam answered quietly, not looking at Dean. He tossed back the rest of what was in his glass then refilled it from the half empty bottle. He picked up a disk sitting on the table and placed it in front of Dean. "Take that to your commander. It's everything I know about the Cylons in this region. It's pretty much all second hand. I can't vouch to the veracity of any of it, but these are what my patrons told me, or bragged about. The names of the worlds, their locations, basic culture, whether or not they deal with Cylons or might deal with Cylons, those are facts. Had to know the info for my customers. Also have a transponder code in there. It's for Lady Bistronea. She was one of my patrons. You went up against her in the game that you won me at. She was the felinoid. She's an elder matriarch, holds a lot of sway, and has no love for Cylons. She can get fresh intel for you if you tell her it's for Sin."

Sam was silent a moment as he took another long pull from his glass. "You should have made me give this to you when you first brought me here. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. I knew Thiros watched for more humans, were paid to do so by the Cylons. They might have gone back and looked to see if they ever caught your life signs on any of the scanners and realized you were human. This is my fault. If you hadn't taken me, they probably wouldn't have come looking and you and your fleet could have slid quietly on by undetected." Sam tossed back the rest of the elixir and stood, launching the glass into the far wall, watching it shatter. He took a step toward the door then stopped. He told Dean he wouldn't run. "I'll be in the Hand of God if you want me, if your commander has any questions for me. I'm real good at answering questions. Lots of practice."

Dean had been taking the information in and was startled into standing up the moment the glass hit the wall. "Sam." He crossed over to him, and gripped his arm, made him look at him. "Sam, if you hadn't agreed to come with me, I would have knocked your ass out, done whatever it took to get you out of there. This is not your fault, do you hear me?" He nodded toward the disk on the table. "That, thanks for that. It'll help us navigate out of area. We're going to break up part of the fleet, send it ahead... fastest ships." It was standard procedure now when there was imminent danger of an all-out Cylon attack. Whatever happened, humans, at least some humans, would survive and make the journey to find Earth, the 13th Colony. He licked his lips. "Come with me?"

Sam gave a soft huff and let his gaze drop back to the floor. He just wanted to go get fracking wasted out of his mind in the Hand of God and hide from everything and everyone. He knew Dean was going to take him to Commander Adama. Hell, maybe call all the pilots together and make Sam give them a briefing. Who knew how this commander worked. John would have called in the captains and Colonel Alexis and gone over the data. Sam wasn't sure he'd gotten everything down, he'd only had a couple centars after all, and there were probably details that would occur to him later, but he gave them the most important facts that could help them shape a strategy. Thinking back, he realized Sin had been very attentive at gathering intel of all sorts, Cylons included. Sin always told himself it was so he could deal with his patrons better, but now Sam wondered if it wasn't part of himself showing through, the warrior, that was hungry for all the intel he could get on the region.

"Yeah," Sam finally said. "I'll probably remember more stuff as time goes on, but that's a pretty good sketch for now. I can give a lot more details of specific cultures if you want, but I didn't think you needed to know things like who won the league championship in island sailing on Trinasa. Politics might be useful though. I also speak and read a lot of the languages. Thiros didn't like the customers having to deal with their versions of languatrons during sex if the customer didn't happen to speak common. Besides, computer translators don't pick up nuances sometimes and that can be inconvenient in the middle of sex."

Really all Dean heard was the 'yes.' It was completely unexpected. What he had expected was a fight, or a refusal, like Sam had refused to see the doctors. Grabbing Sam's shirt, he dragged him close and hugged him, resting his chin on his shoulder for a moment. This was the warrior, the hero he'd heard so much about growing up. Lifting his head, he slanted his mouth over Sam's and kissed him. It was supposed to be a short, light kiss. A thank you. A show of Dean's happiness. His relief that Sam wasn't going to leave to go brood alone.

Sam was surprised by Dean yanking him close, the embrace, the kiss. He opened his mouth in response to Dean's kiss, all his fears and guilt welling up inside him and he clutched the man to him.

Once their tongues met, fire raced through Dean's body and he pushed Sam up against the door. Maybe it was the stress of the centons before, the grief from losing a pilot, his worry about Michael... or maybe it was just their chemistry, but all Dean knew was that he needed this, right now. Pressing himself up against Sam's strong, hard body, cupping his face with one hand, he moved his mouth over Sam's like there was no tomorrow.

Dean's passion inflamed Sam. He was so fracking scared. Scared that he had almost lost Dean, scared of standing in front of a commander and reporting, scared of being ripped a new one for failing to report this valuable intel when he first arrived. The pain of seeing John greet Dean like he had always greeted Sam, of seeing no familiar faces among the warriors, of knowing people died and that the Cylons would be back and next time Dean might not be so lucky filled him.

They kissed until they gasped for breath, hands roaming and caressing each other, soothing each other's pain. When they both finally came up for air, he looked into Dean's eyes and saw the burden the man carried, a burden he knew all too well.

"C'mon," Sam said gently and ran his fingers through Dean's hair in an effort to smooth it. "The commander has waited long enough for this report. And after...whatever is ahead, I'm going to need you to make some serious love to me. Assuming Sin doesn't get resurrected if I panic. But I don't think we should show up on the command deck sweaty and smelling of sex, do you?"

"You are a serious killjoy," Dean said, shaking his head, unconsciously quoting his father who more aptly fit that description but who'd said it about his friend, Sam, many many times. "Yeah, reporting first, sex later. Don't panic, not after a promise like that," Dean added, leaning in and grinding his hips against Sam's to make a point and looking smug about Sam's groaned response. Pulling away, he adjusted his side arm, and backed his way to the coffee table, picking up the disk without looking away from Sam. "You look like someone kissed the frack out of you," he said, clearing his throat. They had a war to think about.

"I could say the same," Sam said smoothing down his hair and wiping away the wetness around his mouth with his finger. He gave Dean just a bit of a wicked grin and he sucked a finger into his mouth for a moment, loving the response he saw on Dean's face before pulling his finger out. "I am not a killjoy. John disrupted more of my fun than..." Sam's voice fell off and he clenched his jaw. "Yeah, a war. Lead the way Captain," he finished, turning around and stepping toward the door, though he felt Dean's eyes on him the entire time. Frack. He did not want to go up to the bridge or the war room or where ever the frack they were going. It made more sense for them to study the data then ask him questions, but he knew what was expected of him. The Commander would want a verbal report of the Cylon bases, mining operations, spyposts, anything he knew about the enemy. That would be the most efficient way to communicate the information then they could study his report in detail and come back to him for any clarifications.

***

[3 Centars Later]

Sam was glad to be back in their quarters. He felt safe there. Shadow insisted on attention so Sam obliged, throwing the foam ball, dragging the string around, and anything else the kitten wanted. Shadow was a good distraction, taking his mind off of the last three centars where he was in the war room with Commander Adama, Colonel Tigh, and Dean. Using the holographic star charts Sam guided the three men through the sectors as best as he knew, pointing out where he knew Cylons were, where he suspected they were, and where the Cylons had allies. He recounted where the fleet might find aid from those who had no love for the Cylons and provided Adama with Bistronea's contact code. He would contact the felinoid if the Commander so wished.

It had seemed as if an eternity passed in that room. Dean had to pull him out of his memories periodically when his mind tried to shut down. Reminders of being questioned by the Cylons, of questioning patrons, of times he had stood in a similar if smaller war room and reported to Commander John. The images would overlay themselves on the present and he would get lost briefly, but Dean managed to keep him from slipping into being Sin. Barely.

Commander Adama had many more questions but told Sam he'd be in touch after reviewing the report. Though he dismissed Sam, he ordered Dean to stay. Sam was less than happy about that. He was pretty shaken by the whole fracking thing and having Dean at his side always seemed to help him.

Taking a side trip to med lab, Sam was informed Michael was in stable condition but sleeping and that the lieutenant ought to make a full recovery, though the man would be grounded for a good week or so. Bones they could heal, swelling they could reduce, but soft tissue damage was hard to repair and needed time to finish healing what the medical equipment couldn't.

Shadow was glad to see him and he had to admit, the kitten Sin had purchased soothed something in his soul. Yeah it was just a robot, but it acted like a kitten, looked like a kitten, and mostly felt like a kitten. Although Sam knew it was just programming, the kitten had bonded with him and seemed to adore him and he really needed something as simple as the unconditional love of an animal.

He gave up waiting on Dean and went ahead and forced himself to eat a light meal. He knew he should probably go work out, but he just couldn't bring himself to deal with people, with strangers. Worse, if people recognized him as Sin, they would want to talk and he didn't want to talk. He definitely did not want to talk. He wanted Dean back, wanted to make certain Dean had dinner, and then...then he needed sex. Hard, desperate, devouring sex.

Looking up when the door chimed, he frowned. He wanted Dean to come back now, dammit. Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet. It was probably one of Dean's squad. It better not be one of Dean's girls. As far as he was concerned, Dean was his now and he wasn't willing to share. He would lie or do whatever it took to convince a girl to not come back.

Opening the door, he kept his hazel eyes veiled. He did not expect his former commander to be the one on the other side of the door and stared at the man in surprise.

Commander John's left eye twitched, but that was the only indication of surprise that he gave. "Sam." During the silence that followed, he took the opportunity to study the man. He was just like John remembered, only there was no ready smile, no welcoming light in his eyes. "Let's talk," he said quietly, but with all the weight of any command he'd ever given to this man who used to call him friend and leader.

Let's talk. Sam continued to stare at the man he had cursed for yahrens. The man who had left him behind. His friend. Practically his brother. Wordlessly Sam stepped away from the door and went to the table. He pulled out the elixir and poured John and himself a glass. He downed his own, refilled it, then carried his drink with him over to the wall. He lounged against it. The other glass of elixir was obviously for John though Sam refused to say it or hand it to him. He watched the man, outwardly dispassionate, but inside his emotions were a knotted up ball that ricocheted inside him like broken glass. He realized the shards of the wine glass he had smashed into the wall were still scattered on the floor.

"So talk," Sam said flatly.

Glancing into the open bedroom, John ascertained that his son was not in and that there was a second bed in the room. He wouldn't have put any stock into the rumors about the nature of Dean's relationship with Sam except he'd gotten a strange feeling when he'd been watching their game of triad.

His gaze fell to the glass, then he turned to Sam and let out a sigh. "I've lost a lot of men in the past twenty something yahren, too many." He shook his head at the numbers he tallied in his head. "And I've seen more than a few come back when I didn't expect them to. You... I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, to know you didn't..." A muscle twitched in his jaw. "That you're here."

"Only been a couple yahren for me, what with all the in and out of the Cylon cryo chambers," Sam said, bitterness tingeing his voice. "And the feeling isn't mutual. Just so we're clear on that." Sam sipped his elixir, wanting to just up-end this glassful as well. Maybe if he got drunk enough he could convince himself the man in the room was just a mirage, an alcohol-induced hallucination. He leveled his icy glare at the man and dared John to argue with him.

"Noted." John gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I gave the order that put you in harm's way and I failed to get you out of there. But I did everything I could, everything," he emphasized, emotion firing up his normally cool eyes. "Just so we're clear."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Sure. Funny, I don't remember hearing the basestar ever go to alert. That usually happens when they come under attack. Course maybe I was being tortured or mind-raped at the time and just didn't hear the claxons go off. Maybe it happened while I was passed out from the pain. Lords know that happened often enough. At least until I realized I wasn't coming home, that you left me, that you abandoned me. Then, then it got easier. Because then I told them everything. Everything." The last word he echoed in perfect mimicry of the man in the room with him.

"I did not abandon you," John retorted, his hand slicing the air in frustration. High command had ordered a retreat from Cylon territory and he'd fought the orders, then disobeyed. But he hadn't had enough men to make an impact, though he'd tried, tried so fracking hard he'd almost lost his life. "I would have given anything to trade places with you then, I know it doesn't mean a fracking thing, but it's the truth. If they hadn't messed with your mind, you'd know it, you'd remember how close we were. You are like a brother to me--"

"Were," Sam said emphatically. "I'm not your brother," he spat. "And yeah, doesn't mean a damn to me. What makes you think I don't remember how close we were? I remember how you'd greet me when I came back from patrol, slapping me on the back, always there for me when I lost a pilot, when I told you I was going to ask Trishan to get sealed to me. Always there until I needed you the most." Sam felt the rage in him begin to bubble, working its way closer to the surface. "But you weren't there when they had me. No matter how much they fracked with my mind, I remember that." His voice began to rise in volume. "They tortured me and when I was back in that freezing ass cell, I told myself you'd come, never leave a man behind."

Sam stalked closer to John, practically tossing his half-empty glass onto the table where it fell onto its side, amber liquid spilling out of it like pooling blood. "You're a liar," he shouted at John. "A god-damned liar. We said we'd go through hell for each other, we'd go through anything to rescue the other one, no matter what it cost. I'm the one who went through hell! You, you got to go on living a normal life. You weren't tortured, weren't sold into slavery, made to fuck whatever won you for the night." Sam's eyes narrowed. "At least your boy was a good fuck."

John had more than his own helping of self-loathing and regrets, and his greatest one... right there with not having been there for his wife, was having lost Sam to those bloodless bastards. So he took his old friend's words in stride... they weren't anything he hadn't told himself before and he was prepared to let Sam take his anger out on him, until he crossed the line. Pulling his fist back, John took one long stride and smashed it against Sam's jaw, snarling, "Don't you fucking bring my boy into this. He has nothing to do with it." Following the staggering man, he grabbed Sam's shirt, dragging him back. "If you're fracking with him out of some sick sense of revenge, I will make you wish you'd never left that slave colony. Are we clear?"

Sam slammed his fist into John's face, knowing he'd just given the man a black-eye he'd wear for a few days. "I never asked to be taken from Thiros! If he'd just left me there, there wouldn't be Cylons here now! More people wouldn't be dying because of me," he punched John again, "Just like then, it's happening all over again. My fault! My fracking fault! You left me and people died. Your son found me, and people are dying again!" He pushed John, knocking him over the table and following after. "Gods damn you! Damn all you fucking Winchesters!" Sam screamed, gripping the front of John's shirt and pulling him up so he could punch the man again.

Dean walked in and saw Sam launching himself at his father and cursing all Winchesters. By the time he reached them, they had broken the coffee table and were rolling around, trading punches. He grabbed Sam and started to haul him up. "Get off him. Sam, you hear me, stop this," he demanded, dodging Sam's elbow. "Enough!"

John had already stopped fighting but was giving Sam a dark glare as he rolled away and started to push himself up.

Sam aimed a kick and caught John hard in the ribs. Dean grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back, far enough away so Sam couldn't nail John yet again.

Sam spat at John, spittle landing on the man's hand. Turning on Dean he shoved him. "Get the hell away from me! You're just as fracking bad!" Sam headed for the door. He'd promised Dean he wouldn't run, but he just couldn't stay here. Tears burned his eyes even as blood ran down his chin from his split lip. He fracked up everything. That's all he was, was one royal fuck up that got people killed.

"Fuck..." Dean barely regained his balance. "What the hell? Sam!"

"Son, I gotta talk to--"

"Sam. Sin!" Dean snapped, following after him. He didn't see Sin, only Sam, but he banked on the shock value of calling him Sin, and it seemed to have worked because Sam froze by the door. Grabbing his arm, he spun Sam around. "I need you to calm down, right now. You hear me?"

John walked up to them, rubbing his jaw. "Sam--"

"Dad, please." Dean jerked his chin toward the door.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before John slowly moved around the men, his eyes holding a warning for Sam, before he left.

"What's going on?" Dean asked as soon as the doors hissed shut. "Just what did I... we... Winchesters, right? What did we do to you, Sam?"

Sam was shaking, his breaths rapid. Dean's snapped "Sin" had thrown him and all his beaten in training kicked in, making him freeze, damned near making him drop to his knees, head bowed, awaiting punishment. He didn't pull away from Dean though, a part of him fearing punishment. After John left he was still trembling, not looking at Dean. He shook his head at Dean's words, any possible answer caught in his throat. He finally managed a soft "sorry" then pulled gently free of Dean's grasp and began gathering up the broken pieces of the coffee table and those few items that had been on it. He tried to keep his sobs locked inside him but he suddenly collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself, rocking ever so slightly. The tears streamed down his face but he made no sound, though in his mind he was screaming his rage and pain.

Stunned to see Sam go from aggressive to passive to complete melt down in the span of only a few centons, Dean was at a complete loss. He dropped down on his knees in front of Sam and pulled him into his arms, swaying with him, rocking back and forth, holding him. "Did he make you remember things you didn't want to remember?" he finally asked quietly against Sam's ear. "It's alright... it's over, wherever your mind is Sam, it's in the past... gone."

Sam took comfort feeling Dean's arms around him. He finally wrapped his arms around Dean but didn't answer. He wished it was gone. He wished he was gone. He wished the Cylons had killed him instead of selling him. He wished Dean had never won him because the fleet, the last of humanity, would still be safe. He gave Dean a final tight hug, then pushed himself to his feet. He looked at the wreckage around him and closed his eyes. Broken. Everything was broken. But he shouldn't be surprised. Broken was something he fully understood. Something he was very very good at. He didn't bother to wipe away his tears or the blood dripping from his chin. He walked away from Dean and to the bedroom where he laid down on his bed. He stared at the wall, not seeing anything, just letting his brain shut down.

Crossing the room, Dean reached for the bottle of elixir laying on its side and unbroken, on the floor. Opening it, he took a couple of long swigs, then set it down on the kitchen counter. By the time he walked into their bedroom, Sam's eyes were closed and he was taking deep, even breaths. Dean didn't think he was feigning sleep, there was no reason.

Wetting a towel, he returned and gently cleaned Sam's face free of blood and tears. Then pulled off Sam's boots and pulled the light blanket over him. Almost as an afterthought, he searched for the black hairball and saw the kitten was hiding under Sam's bed. Pulling it out, he tucked it in the space between Sam's arm and body. Running his knuckles up the side of Sam's face, he shook his head. Sam looked so peaceful now, so careless, so different from the angry, hate-filled man he'd glimpsed fighting his dad, and from the world weary submissive one who'd apologized and started to clean up the mess in the living room. He wondered which Sam he'd be faced with when the guy woke up.

Walking to his own bed, he stripped to his shorts and settled down on it. One flick of a switch and he had the view screen on and stopped at the first comedy he could find. Adjusting his pillow, he watched the screen sightlessly. His mind was elsewhere. Damn all you fucking Winchesters! The words reverberated in Dean's mind. Get the hell away from me! You're just as fucking bad! They rolled around, and wouldn't quiet. It wasn't the first time Sam had said something like this. Was his hatred for his dad so deep? Dean's hand fisted around the bedcovering. Growing up he'd had two heroes. One not so perfect one, his father, who was all too human. And one who he'd heard tales about from his dad and who, in his mind, could do no wrong, one Captain Sam. How was he to deal with them being at each other's throats? How...

* * *

Sam's eyes shot open, his breath caught in his throat as the nightmares jumbled his thoughts. He didn't know where he was for a moment, but the soft sounds spilling from the viewscreen, the only light in the room, and the kitten snuggled up against him purring, quickly helped him place himself. He ached, parts of his face felt swollen and bruised, and the fight he'd had with John reared up in his mind. Part of him wondered if John had tried to rescue him, while another part was scathing. Of course John had tried! How could Sam even think he hadn't? John wouldn't have just left him, but he needed someone to blame for the hell his life had become and John was the easiest.

The things he had said to John made him sigh. He wasn't sure how much he meant those words. He'd certainly goaded John with the comment about Dean and had deserved the punches.

The little green-eyed boy who was always so eager to please his father and make his father proud of him, even at so young an age, Sam remembered well. He remembered seeing the hero-worship in those eyes for John and even for himself. Connecting the two, the young child and the Dean he knew now wasn't something his mind seemed able to do. He didn't want to.

He was fucking John's son. Was he in love with Dean? Part of him said he was. Part of him didn't know. It certainly wasn't to get back at John. John hadn't even come into the equation. He needed someone to tell him it was okay, it was okay that he'd been caught, okay that he'd failed to keep the damning information from the Cylons, okay that he'd become a whore and fuck-toy for anyone with enough coin. He was free now...only he wasn't. He was held hostage by his memories, by his anger and his pain. Twisting his head he saw Dean asleep, light from the viewscreen creating flickering shadows to color that beautiful face.

Slipping out of bed he went over to Dean and settled on the floor watching the man sleep. Dean was fiercely protective of him, but he wondered if he was 'okay' and not fracked in the head if Dean would just send him on his way. The warrior felt responsible for Sin...and now for Sam. Was it just duty? Or was there something more? There was a chemistry, a need between the two of them, no sense arguing that point but he didn't know if it was love. Sam needed Dean though, needed him almost as much as he needed to breathe. He carefully pulled back the blanket and drank in Dean's muscular body, his eyes drifting occasionally to that face, almost entranced by the man's beauty. Sin felt he belonged to this man and Sam wanted to be just as possessed by him. Memories of the woman he had loved came unbidden to his mind. He recalled, sharply, the same feelings. He wanted to own her, possess her, and wanted her to do the same of him. He had studied her body just as he studied Dean's now.

The shadows that caressed and played across Dean's hard muscular body was beginning to make Sam's cock stir. He stood and slowly stripped out of his clothes, his hands brushing over his own nipples, imagining Dean touching them. Stroking himself, he wanted Dean's hands there. The craving for the desperate devouring sex he had wanted before John had come to Dean's quarters was returning, inflaming him. The need to be taken, to be possessed, to be kept safe and loved filled him.

Running a light hand down Dean's body he played gently with Dean's nipples and seeing them respond to his touch had him growing harder. He stroked Dean's cock through the material of his undershorts. What if after the fight Dean wanted nothing more to do with him? No! That would finish Sam and he knew it. The warrior had to still care for him, had to still want to make love to him! Fear that it might not be true anymore began to take hold of him. Reaching under the waistband of Dean's shorts he caressed the man's cock, feeling it begin to harden under his touch. The man began to shift and moan in his sleep. Fear and anger began to war within Sam and he let go of Dean's cock, grabbing hold of the undershorts and pulled them down and off.

Spotting the lube Sam grabbed the bottle and squirted some onto his fingers. He rubbed the lube around his own hole and inserted a lubed finger into his hole, then a second, relaxing and stretching himself as he leaned in and licked up the bottom of Dean's cock. He needed Dean to be as desperate as he was. He wanted Dean to take him without preamble, even violently. Using his lubed hand he began to jack Dean off quickly, before the man fully awakened. Satisfied Dean's need was growing, he climbed into bed and squeezed Dean's cock hard as he crushed his mouth to Dean's and pinched and twisted one of Dean's nipples painfully.

"Fuck me," he demanded breathlessly in Dean's ear. "Fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone."

"Ngh..." Dean woke up painfully hard, his cock throbbing in Sam's tight fist, his mouth burning like he'd been kissed for centars, and with Sam's hot breaths fanning his ear, his dirty, desperate demand making heat pool low in Dean's belly. The urge to fuck was so strong, Dean could barely think. He grasped Sam's hip with one hand and pushed his chest back with the other, and as if reading his mind, Sam moved in tandem, sitting back on his knees and straddling Dean. In a fluid motion, Sam guided Dean's blunt tip to his hole and pushed down at the same time Dean thrust upward, grunting as he was sheathed inside Sam's tight heat.

Through half lidded eyes, Dean watched Sam's face in the semi darkness, reading hunger and unbearable need in his expression. Each violent thrust of Dean's hips had Sam swaying backwards, nostrils flaring as he panted out his breaths. His hands were rough on Dean, grasping at his chest, fingers digging into him, urging him to keep going, to fuck him harder.

Damn all you fucking Winchesters!

Dean sucked in his breath at the memory of the words Sam had flung. He hadn't realized the thought had made him slow down, but Sam's suddenly jerky movements and his frustrated groan brought Dean back. Apparently it wasn't fast enough, because now Sam was on his knees, leaning over him and sitting back, and leaning over him again, forcing Dean's cock in and out of his ass, faster, harder.

The naked desire in Sam's face, in every line of his body, in his furious motions had Dean tied up in knots. Maybe it was the idea that someone needed him this much, he didn't know, all he knew was that it was fucking hot and that he was burning up for Sam. He raised his hips higher, fucking Sam like he'd wanted, pushing his cock deep into his lover over and over again. "Who's fucking you, Sam," he asked. "Say my name."

Only the sound of labored breaths and the bed scraping against the wall filled the room. "Dean [i]Winchester[/i], say it Sam, say who you want to be fucked by." He saw Sam's grimace and the flash of clenched teeth as his lover stubbornly clung to his silence. "Say it. Dammit, say it," Dean's hard thrust was followed by gentle pulsing motions. "Or I will stop fucking you. Say it."

Sam practically growled. Why? Why did Dean demand this? He needed Dean to take him so fracking badly. Sin had been taught to tell his patrons anything they wanted to hear, but he wasn't Sin. He was Sam. Then he knew. Dean had heard him. No telling how much he heard, but he had heard. If this need hadn't come from the depths of his soul he might have pulled off, dressed and left. Being left unsatisfied was something he had grown accustomed to on Thiros. Dean wanted to know why those words had left his lips.

"He left me," Sam panted out. "I failed. People died." He moaned as he tried to get Dean to continue giving him what he hungered for. "You found me. They found us. People died." He leaned forward slamming his hands on either side of Dean's body. "Damn him, damn you, for this guilt and burden." He pulled off and slammed back down onto Dean's cock, giving a small cry. "But I need you, Dean." He leaned down and took Dean's mouth, ravaging it, tasting blood and was unsure whose it was. He moaned in frustration as Dean still only thrust shallowly into him. "I loved your father like a brother. I love you in ways that terrify me." Grinding his teeth he bit out what Dean wanted to hear even if he didn't want to acknowledge what Dean demanded he acknowledge. All it did for him was acknowledge he was fucking his best friend's son and he wanted to make it perfectly clear what the demand was costing him.

"I want my best friend's son to fuck me. I want him to love me. So fuck me Dean Winchester. Fuck me like you hate me or fuck me like you love me. Just fuck me."

Chapter Text

Dean's breath audibly rushed out. His body was on fire and it took everything he had, every shred of control he'd developed, to hold back as Sam made his stuttering declarations and tried like hell to get him to move. Now that he had what he wanted... he wasn't sure what to do with it, so he let Sam's demands wash over him, let his body take over.

Eyes locking with Sam's, he started to fuck him hard, using his elbows on the bed for leverage. He was raising his body clear off the mattress, ramming his cock deep inside Sam, every muscle in his body straining to keep up the pace and to take Sam's weight without dropping down to the bed.

Tight, Sam was so fucking tight around his hard cock that each thrust brought Dean agonizing pleasure and pain. He wanted to fuck Sam's brains out, wanted to show him who could give him exactly what he needed... exactly how he needed it, and there would be no mistaking he'd remember Dean Winchester, whatever their future. Pushing up higher on his elbows, he pistoned into Sam, his cock slipping part way out and ramming back inside him. The harder he fucked, the more demanding Sam became and it was clear he was working himself into a frenzy.

So fuck me Dean Winchester. Fuck me like you hate me or fuck me like you love me. Just fuck me. Sam's words echoed in Dean's head.

"Fuck." Dean roughly pushed Sam back, rising at the same moment. There was some jostling, but he managed to get Sam on his back with his legs hooked over Dean's shoulders. On his knees, gripping Sam's thighs against his chest, Dean bucked hard, pushing every inch of his throbbing cock back inside Sam, groaning as he buried himself to the hilt. He didn't wait, he pulled out and thrust hard into Sam's ass again and again, each motion forcing the air out of Sam's lungs.

Dean had full control now, over how deep he penetrated Sam, how long his strokes were, and whether he'd make him wait a few frustrating seconds. He used that power, alternating his strokes, catching each and every one of Sam's reactions, pushing his lover to need him more, then giving him what he wanted. It was exhilarating and heady, and he didn't know if it was right or wrong, only that he couldn't stop himself, he just couldn't.

This was what Sam needed. He needed the pain and the punishment, the sweet ecstasy and pleasure. All of him to be controlled and possessed by another, but not just any other. Someone he trusted and treasured. He gave himself to Dean, letting Dean do what he wanted with him and to him. Thoughts of anything else left him as he submerged himself in his carnal feelings. He reacted to everything Dean gave him, taking pleasure or pain or frustration. He didn't stroke or touch himself. He left that for Dean to decide when he would be given that additional pleasure.

"Dean," Sam breathed out, his head tossing from side to side as the man pounded into his ass. He pushed back, making certain Dean was inside him as deeply as he could possibly thrust. "Yes," he moaned. "I need you, need you so bad."

Sam's fingers dug into the bed. He didn't attempt to stave the sounds of pleasure or keep them quiet. He wanted Dean to know everything, hear everything, experience everything that he was doing to Sam and making him feel.

The way Sam squirmed and thrashed, the way he called his name and begged for more, the way he tried to get closer even though the effort was futile, pushed Dean to the edge. He thought he would go out of his mind while trying to make Sam go out of his. Damn... he was so fucking hard and horny, he didn't know if he could get enough. His gaze swept over Sam, his cock leaking steadily onto his stomach, his muscles tightening and clenching each time Dean drove into him, but his face... that held Dean's attention.

For once there was no mystery, no mask in front of another mask. Dean could read Sam's expression clearly. Desire. Need. Lust. Trust. All of it, just for Dean. It fucking took Dean's breath away. His gaze locked onto Sam's lips. They were flushed and parted as he gasped for air, the tip of his tongue sometimes just visible, tempting. Cursing, Dean swept his hand across Sam's thigh and closed his fist around Sam's thick wet cock. He stroked Sam's tip with his thumb, lingering at his slit, torturing it, the way he wished he could move his mouth over Sam's, ever so lightly, rubbing and teasing until Sam demanded more.

Sam practically convulsed when Dean touched his overly sensitized cock, calling his name with a tone somewhere between agony and ecstasy. Arching up, he tried to thrust into that hand that merely teased him. He didn't curse him but instead moaned and nodded, thrilled Dean finally touched his aching cock.

Dean started to thrust faster, his entire body tensing before he realized how close he was to the edge. Abruptly, he brought his hips to a standstill, though it almost killed him. Panting, fighting Sam who refused to hold still, he pulled out of him and parting his legs, collapsed over him. Both their cocks were incredibly hard and sliding against each other. "Shshsh... don't worry Sammy, I got you," Dean whispered, kissing him hard, but barely moving over his lover as he fought to regain his control. Sam made it hard, the way he was practically humping him, and demanding action. If he hadn't sealed his mouth over Sam's, he knew the protests would be loud.

Sam voiced his complaint as best he could with Dean's mouth over his. His tongue battled with Dean's as demanding as the rest of his body. He closed his arms around Dean and tried desperately to thrust against his lover, but to no avail. He heard Dean's promise but it didn't slake his need. If anything it made his blood burn more.

A few moments later, he pulled up on all fours, leaning over Sam. "Roll over baby, I'm gonna fuck your brains out," he said thickly. Scrambling back, he got off the bed and motioned for Sam to come to the edge. Once Sam was on his hands and knees, Dean rubbed his tortured and swollen tip against Sam's puckered hole, then rocked inside him, groaning loudly as Sam took all of him inside, until Dean's hips were flush against Sam's ass. Closing one fist around Sam's cock, he put his other arm across Sam's chest, gripping his shoulder tight. Pulling his hips back, he thrust hard, penetrating Sam as deeply as he could, adjusting, and then doing it again. Once Sam clenched tight around him, Dean growled out his name and started fucking. "This what you wanted. This what you need from me, Sam?" he asked, his words broken and strained. "This what you want?" He knew Sam would be sore for days, knew it but couldn't ease up, not now. Now he was dragging Sam back against him, against his every thrust, still in total control of their pace and wanting Sam to know it, but quickly spiraling toward release.

Part of Sam tried to take control but just as before, Dean owned him, had him firmly under his control. He knew that deep inside part of this need for Dean to control him came from Sin, from Sin's insecurities, from his need to be a slave to someone else so his guilt could be pushed away and buried. As a slave he had no control so there could be no burden or shame, nothing but what the master wanted. Even if he was Sam, Sin was still haunting him, driving him to this and he didn't care. Every last shred of pain and anguish was being washed away, purified by Dean's desire for him. If Dean wanted him this badly there must be something of value left in him.

"Yes," Sam whispered to Dean's question. "More. I need more. I need everything," he gasped out. "More!" he demanded. His body was already aflame, wracked with emotions and sensations that made him feel more alive than he could remember. Even when he had been Sin, it had never been like this. This desperation, the feelings washing through him making him shudder and writhe and cry and moan. He clenched and unclenched with Dean's every thrust, giving Dean the extra resistance and pressure to make it as exquisite for his lover as he possibly could. Although Dean had him at his mercy, he knew Dean was equally at his. Dean was as lost in the fire as he was and they were burning together in the blaze of lust.

The last shreds of Dean's control broke. With an almost animalistic cry, he fucked Sam's tight ass, slamming into him so hard that he lifted him up with each thrust. The friction on his now very sensitive cock was on the verge of being painful, but the heat that had built up inside him eclipsed everything, everything but the need to come. "Sam, Sam, Sam," he chanted mindlessly, begging, pleading for release, wanting it, needing it worse than anything he'd ever needed. "Fuck..." His balls drew up tight against his body. Gripping Sam's shoulder hard, making it impossible for Sam to move, Dean gave a couple of short sharp thrusts, panting in Sam's ear. "Now!" He pressed down against Sam so hard they collapsed on the bed, his hand trapped around Sam's cock, between his body and the bed. Dean arched up, his back stiffening as he climaxed. Moaning brokenly, he spilled his warmth inside Sam, groaning and grinding against him as he felt another rope of cum leave him. "Gah... Sam!" he went still.

Dean's cry, his order, rippled through Sam and as he felt Dean's cum fill him, his own body responded in kind. His voice echoed Dean's, almost screaming the captain's name as his body stiffened and he shot his seed up his stomach and into the bed sheets. Feeling Dean's second release inside him, his second cry, Sam jerked, his neck arching as he came again. He clenched and released, slowly, milking Dean free of anything else he could extract from the man, his own body spasming as tremors of pleasure rolled through him. When he felt Dean collapse down on his again, he twisted his head and captured Dean's mouth, his kiss gentle and loving as he reached over his shoulder to cup the back of Dean's head.

When he finally broke the kiss he was still panting, his body drenched in sweat, and he laid his head back down on the bed. Dean was still collapsed on top of him and he could feel Dean was as soaked in sweat as he was. He didn't want to move nor did he want Dean to move. He wanted to simply bask in Dean's warmth, feeling Dean's cock fill him and his body cover him.

"I want you," Sam said softly. "Now. Always. I want you."

"Don't think you could take me again, right now," Dean answered, kissing the hollow of his shoulder blade.

"If that's a challenge, don't make me prove you wrong," Sam said, clenching a little on Dean's cock.

Things seemed so clear when they were fucking, but Dean knew the complications were coming... they were always there. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Sam's lips, tracing them. "I can't move..." he let out a hot breath, knowing he needed to pull out of Sam. "Gimme a centon."

"You don't need to move," Sam said, cradling his head on his arm. He shifted enough to help pull Dean's hand free from where it was trapped between him and the bed, then grabbed hold of the edge of the blanket that he had pulled off of Dean when this had started. With an experienced snap, he fluttered it open then with another snap and twist the blanket settled over them. Reaching over his shoulder, he ran his hand alongside Dean's face. "Sleep, lover. Just as you are. I like feeling you inside me, your body draped over me."

Dean hadn't answered his comment regarding his desire to have Dean and stay with him. He tried not to feel hurt by the lack of response. The heat of lust and lovemaking were past. Maybe that really was all he was good for now. Sam needed Dean so much it was a physical ache, but he was foolish to believe the handsome captain would want him to stay. He didn't even want to consider the complication of Dean being who he was: John's son.

"Just sleep," Sam encouraged, his voice roughened by his shouts and the tightness in his throat as he tried to accept that he might want Dean, but the feeling apparently wasn't mutual. Though Dean might love having sex with Sam, emotionally, in his heart, Dean didn't want him in the same way Sam wanted him. He would take what comfort and solace he could then, while he could.

"Mmm." Dean agreed, the thought appealing to him as he closed his eyes. That was when, like a self fulfilling prophesy, the complications started.

It wasn't so much what Sam had said earlier, but what Dean had seen. What he didn't understand. His father and Sam fighting. Sam on top of his dad and then there was a secret message passed between the two men before his dad left, something in his eyes. Was it a coincidence Sam had come to him in the middle of the night and needed sex? It wasn't the first time but...

"Sam?" He swallowed and rolled his head to the side, so he was resting his chin on Sam's shoulder. His gut twisted as his question stuck in his throat. He wished he hadn't started talking, but he knew Sam was awake and waiting. "This... was this about me, or about..." He let out another breath. "Was it about my father? The truth." He tensed and held his breath.

Sam let out a small huff, almost a laugh. Almost. "I never pegged you as a woman, wanting to talk after mind-blowing sex. You're supposed to fall asleep after something like this," he said. He was silent, waiting to see if that was enough of an insult to Dean's manly pride for Dean to let it drop.

Not only did Sam avoid the question, but he joked about it. Suddenly, Dean wasn't so relaxed anymore. Slowly, he pulled out of Sam and rolling over, sat up. He ran a shaky hand over his face, then asked. "Did you and my dad... dammit..." He swung his legs off the bed, feeling sick to his stomach.

Sam sighed. Dean was being a girl about it. He reluctantly rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. Fuck, he ached.

"For me, this only had something to do with your father in the most round-about of ways, Dean. It's complicated. I had nightmares and woke up. I came over to you and wanted to have sex with you, just like I'd planned when you got back from talking with Adama. It was hard, talking about all those things. You saw how you had to keep bringing me back on track." He squeezed Dean's shoulder gently and kissed the side of his neck. "I was afraid after you seeing me and your dad fight, you might not want...to be with me anymore. But that was a fear that only kicked up my desperation for you."

He shifted so he could wrap his arms around Dean. "This had to do with me. My needs. My guilt. My need to be loved and to forget that I brought the Cylons down on humanity again. Shshsh," he almost scolded Dean when he saw Dean about to speak. "Doesn't matter what you say, that is what I feel and you wanted truth. I said a few things to your dad that goaded him, that started the fight, the physical part of it anyways. He's afraid, and I'm sure you'll hear it from him soon enough, that I'm having sex with you to screw with you and screw with him. John never came into it. Why I'm here with you. There is no 'revenge,' though he's concerned that might be what this is." Sam was silent a minute. "I needed this for me. The fight with him probably didn't help my insecurities, but he was not the reason. My word as a warri...my word," Sam finished. He wasn't a warrior anymore. He couldn't give his word as a warrior, but he could as a man, at least. "Okay?"

Dean was listening, but stiff as a board. Sam said so damned much, maybe too much. He hadn't even thought about revenge, didn't want to think about it now. And Sam hadn't... this thing between them had started before Sam understood who he was, whose son. Dean nodded, but the words that came out of his mouth contradicted the gesture. "No, not okay, Sam." He finally turned to look at him, his gut clenching at how fucked out and beautiful Sam looked and the intensity of that stare. He returned it, fear blossoming in his stomach. "One word. 'Yes' or 'no.' Was there anything between you and my dad... back then?"

Sam blinked, staring at Dean, the pieces just not quite adding up. His eyes widened as he suddenly understood what Dean was asking. He practically squeaked. "Me? John? Oh by the lords, no! No way in hell! We were best friends, not lovers. If he'd have ever tried to kiss me or me him, we'd have punched the other one. Your dad didn't do guys. Ever. And me and him? Together?" Sam made a face and shuddered. "No. Definitely not. One hundred percent, definitely not."

The tension flooded out of Dean. "Okay." Getting back fully onto the bed, he put his arms around Sam and kissed him. It was a hard kiss, claiming him... eradicating those nagging thoughts that had almost destroyed him. He pushed Sam down to the bed, then kissed his throat. "I can get over... through a lot of things. That wouldn't be one of them," he said, fingers biting possessively into Sam's arm. "There was something. A look between you ... I just..." he shook his head, and then rolled onto his back next to Sam. "Your word as a warrior. Everything between us... it's been about us," he said, turning his face toward Sam. "I believe you. He... don't worry about what he tells me." He hoped to the gods he was right about that, because his dad held a lot of power over him. Still.

Sam kissed Dean back just as possessively. With Dean's words, Sam gave a small laugh. "That look was a warning to me not to fuck with his son. That's what's between me and him, the only thing between me and him. And this? It is just about us. I am trying really hard not to connect that bright, green-eyed little boy that John adored, with you. Because that's just...I remember holding that little baby in my arms when he was just a couple days old. I remember being there for his first step. I remember feeding him his baby victuals once or twice. And that just can't be you, okay? That little boy, no, I think about you and him being the same, even if you are, and it's just...awkward. If the situations were reversed, I'd probably want to kill John. But I didn't know it was you, that you were John's boy. If I had...I wouldn't be here now...laying in a cold, rather large wet spot. Can we move over to my bed for the rest of the night?"

"He loved you too. And I copied almost everything he did." Dean met Sam's gaze for a centon then sat up. "So you think if you'd known who I was you'd have resisted, huh?" He wore a definite smirk that said he believed otherwise. "Quick shower, then move to your bed." As he got up, he felt every muscle in his body stretch and ache. "I'll get you some meds," he said, knowing it would be worse for Sam. "Come on."

Sam decided not to answer Dean as to whether or not he'd have resisted. Sin couldn't have because it was his job to pleasure whoever won him. But if he'd realized on the shuttle back to the fleet...frack. Dean was probably right. If Dean was still interested in having sex with him, he would have.

The shower sounded real good. He was sticky and sweaty and yeah, a nice hot shower was just the thing. An innocent, nice hot shower, and then he was ready to curl up with Dean and sleep what was left of the night away. Meds? That confused him for a centon then nodded. Yeah, he wouldn't mind something to ease the aches he felt.

He wanted to ask Dean if Dean loved him. Maybe the little boy loved him, but that was different. Dean was a grown man and it was all different. As far as Sam was concerned, there had been enough girl talk for the night, but the thought that Dean was worried that he and Dean's father had had a thing, he still found that hilarious. Even if he didn't want anything to do with John, he would have to tell him the next time they inevitably ran into one another. He wasn't sure John, with the current relationship between him and his old friend, would find it nearly as amusing since Sam was sleeping with his boy, but frack, it was just funny as hell.

He followed Dean into the bathroom, taking just a moment to capture him in his arms and kiss his neck. "Maybe, just maybe, you can convince me to be a little bit Sin and try out that pull up bar soon," he whispered in Dean's ear, then chuckled to himself, seeing the look on Dean's face in the mirror.
*

Dean woke up to find himself spooning behind Sam, one arm and one leg thrown over him in the small cot. Heat emanated from Sam's body and seemed to heighten his unique scent. Leaning in, Dean rubbed his face against the back of Sam's neck and drew in his fresh, clean smell. Dammit... why was everything about this man so irresistible?

He ground his hips against Sam, pressing his dick against his ass and instantly feeling his dick surge. Smiling against Sam's soft skin, he palmed Sam's cock, pressing the heel of his hand lightly against it and kissing Sam's throat until he felt him start to wake. Still amused by Sam's admission that he didn't like to think of Dean as a kid, Dean couldn't resist taunting him a little. "Morning Uncle Sam. Want to come out to play?" His body told him whatever they played would have to be gentle, but he was up for anything. "Hmm?"

Sam had been happily nestled in a sleepless dream, feeling safe and warm and content. He felt movement behind him and his mind--Sin's mind--rapidly tried to remember who his client was, what the client liked, how much time the client had left. He felt the cock press against ass, and he immediately relaxed himself, ready for penetration. Okay, guy, definite guy, palming his cock, and a groan slipped out, moaning a bit more as he felt those lips on his neck. He'd enjoyed the guy, he knew that, could feel it in the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind.

Uncle Sammy? Sam's eyes shot open. He had not just been having imaginings about John's little boy! No! No way in the seven suns. He scrambled out of bed, trying to shake the cobwebs from his mind as he crouched on the floor, realizing he was naked and totally confused as to where he was. The painting, the chimes...he saw them, then his eyes came to rest on the handsome green eyed man in his bed who looked a little wide-eyed him.

Standing, Sam grabbed a pillow and smacked Dean upside the head with it. "You shit!"

Chuckling, Dean rolled onto his back. "Over-reaction much, Sammy?"

Sam's eyes narrowed and he stalked up to the bed. "You know, there is something I recall quite clearly about little Deanie." He reached out and just under his arms he began tickling. "That's he's ticklish as frack right here."

Dean gave a shout, his body arching off the bed. Half laughing, half growling, he fought Sam and finally pulled him down onto the bed and rolled on top, pinning him with his weight. "What about this... remember this little Deanie?" He was pushing Sam, but it was the first time in a long time that they'd both laughed and meant it. "Hmm? Or maybe not so little Deanie," he whispered, his lips hovering over Sam's despite Sam's struggles. "Dude, for someone who's catered to all sort of kinks... turns out you're a prude!"

"Never been accused of that," Sam said. "Now that you're old enough for your tender little ears to hear, you ought to ask your dad about that. Ask him about the bachelor party I threw him." Sam grinned at him, "And let's talk about kinks, Captain can-we-fuck-upside-down."

A disgusted look crossed Dean's featured. "Seriously, let's not talk about my dad in the context of sex... like ever."

As for his own upside down kink, Dean's gaze strayed to the bar across the door. "I didn't have any kinks before... before you," he muttered. Still, he couldn't deny the heat that flushed through his body, didn't deny it. Sealing his mouth over Sam's, he closed his eyes and imagined taking him upside down, his cock getting hard once again. Then his dad's image intruded, and groaning, he rolled over to his back. "I hate you..." He blew out a hot breath.

Sam burst out with laughter. "Serves you right. And I bet you had all sorts of kinks. Based on what you and Sin did? Oh yeah, you had kinks. This one is just all sorts of new. He pulled Dean back down into a kiss. Suddenly his body stiffened and he made a small sound of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He practically shoved Dean off of him and out of bed. "Cylons. Attacking." Sam jumped up and tossed Dean's clothes at him. "Move it!" he ordered with all the authority of an officer.

"What?!" Even with questions swimming in his mind, Dean was up and dressing. "How do you know... where?" Even as he made the demands, he remembered his dad mentioning that Sam used to have premonitions. "Sam, imminent?" He was already striding to the com to contact the commander.

Sam wasn't accustomed to anyone questioning his premonitions. On the Starfire, when he said 'attack,' his pilots jumped into action. "Yes, imminent! Attacking Galactica. They're going for the agro ships! And ships...I don't recognize them," Sam said, trying to recall the flashes that had shot through his mind. "Towers, lots of towers...do we have tylium processing ships in the fleet?" They reminded him of tylium processing plants but he'd never seen space borne fuel processing plants, not of the size his mind was declaring these ships were.

"Yeah... not enough," Dean answered. He relayed news of the imminent attack to command post. When he was asked for his source of information, Dean just told command, "Trust me."

His gaze went to Sam as he finished dressing and he hoped to hell Sam was right. Or maybe he should hope Sam was wrong, and that would just make Dean a crackpot but it was better than having Cylons up their asses. "You sure about this, Sam?" he said, strapping his weapons on and grabbing his jacket.

"My window is usually about ten centons max. Long range scanners ought to be picking them up in three centons, give or take a centon." He grabbed Dean and pulled him into an intense kiss then shoved him towards the doors. "Be careful. Come home safe!"

Giving Sam an intense look, Dean walked out of the door and started running. Even before he reached the lift, claxons began to sound and all pilots, including those in med bay who could walk, were summoned. "Felgercarb!" A part of Dean had hoped it wasn't as bad as Sam said.

When he reached the docking bay, red squadron was already being dispatched. Retired personnel were also showing up, just in case they were needed. Dean nodded at his dad from a distance, then quickly spoke with his men. His orders had been transmitted to him and he passed them on to the men, deciding which formation they'd use and which of them would be on the defensive and which ones would be on attack duty. When blue lights started flashing, Dean nodded toward their fighters. "Time to fly."

The fleet started to separate into groups, those ships capable of defense or attack staying behind and allowing the others to pull ahead. The Galactica lurched as engines were reversed to relocate its position closer to the agro ships. The space around the fleet was filled with fighter ships and fire power, coming from the battlestar and other ships.

*

The vipers raced toward the silver grey disc-shaped Cylon crafts already attacking the agro ships. Flanked by four vipers on either side and watching the scanners blinking wildly as more Cylons arrived, Dean gave the order to split up. His group headed straight up for the higher reaches of space before suddenly swooping down over the Cylon ships which had been distracted by the other group making a direct attack.
The pitch black of space was lit up by strobes of light and bursts of fire power. As ships were damaged or destroyed, avoiding debris became as important as escaping direct hits. Explosions flared on the surface of the Galactica as the battlestar moved in and long streams of silver lanced from the ship at long distance targets beyond the reach of the vipers.

As another formation of Cylon ships appeared out of nowhere, Dean yelled, "Engage, engage, now!" and the vipers veered with precision, barreling past a disintegrating viper, determined to stop the enemy at all costs.

* * *

Dean was tired and irritable beyond words. He always got that way when his dad tried to tell him how things should have gone down. He was more than willing to take his dad's advice in planning and in simulated battles, but dammit, he was the one who called the plays when they were out there and he was in command of his team. He did not need his dad to give him shit about it or try to make him feel like a damned kid.

He walked into his quarters and tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair. "Got ‘em off our tails, for now," he said, rubbing his eyes as Sam stood up. "Sons of bitches got... too many."

Sam strode over to Dean and pulled him into his arms, kissing him hard. He broke the kiss but clutched Dean to him tightly. "By the Lords, do you think you could have taken any more risks out there? They almost got you, too. Too many times. If I lost you--" Sam said, his voice choking.

Dean made a face and clapped Sam on the back a little awkwardly. "That's not happening." He let Sam hold him another few microns, then he pulled away. "Bright side... we fracking kicked their asses." Slicing his hand through the air in frustration, he grumbled, "This was the time to take the battle and ram it down their throats. Before they bring in more forces." Yeah, command had told him that was a no go and had ordered all pilots to fall back instead of pursue.

Sam didn't want to let Dean go but accepted that Dean needed the space. He knew how wound up Dean probably was. The last thing Dean wanted was a clingy emo roommate at the moment. "There are too many pilots who've never been in real battles before. Simulation and the real thing, they just aren't the same," Sam said. "Kicked their asses, yeah, but not by much." He shook his head. "So many of the maneuvers have been modified since I flew. What happened to the Archer Maneuver? It was already dangerous. What I saw you do, it started out as the Archer but it looks like it ought to be called the lunatic maneuver now. You had to be pulling six and half gees? If a pilot has to make a flight correction at those gees, they're not going to be able to!"

The Archer Maneuver, designed by no other than one Captain Samuel of the Wesson clan, who Dean had studied closely in his days at the academy. His jaw tightened at the criticism. "It's a modified Archer, desperate times... alright. I need a drink." He walked into the kitchen and reached into a cabinet. Without looking at Sam, he added. "Don't. You weren't there, in that seat... so just don't."

Sam started to say more, but the tension he saw in Dean...the last thing Dean needed was a fight. A captain always blamed themselves for lost pilots, be they from their own squadron or a squadron who they were backing up.

"You're right. I wasn't," Sam said quietly. Sam went over to the small kitchen. It wasn't stocked for real meals, but it had a decent selection of light snacks. Dean hadn't eaten and though he knew Dean would protest, preferring a liquid dinner after that battle, Sam could make him eat a little something. He remembered the young Dean had always had a thing for peanut butter sandwiches and sliced apples and cheese on the side. John always complained they couldn't keep those victuals in the house. He quickly cut up an apple while he heard Dean sink into a chair at the table. As Sam spread the creamy peanut butter on the bread the distinct clink and gurgle of liquid told him Dean was pouring a second shot of elixir. He brought the bowl of apples and cheese over with the peanut butter sandwich and set it in front of Dean. "You didn't have a chance to eat. There's no telling when they'll be back so eat now."

Dean gave the fruit a suspicious look and reached for the sandwich. "This is fine, thanks. Did you want some..." he pushed the bottle toward the seat across from himself, then took a bite. "Just when did we get peanut butter?" That got a chuckle out of him and he pushed practically half the sandwich into his mouth. He hadn't realized he was hungry. Mouth still full, he asked, "So, were you on the observation deck?"

Sam shook his head at the offer of the elixir. "You always liked peanut butter sandwiches so I requested some peanut butter. You liked apples and cheese too." He shoved the bowl back toward Dean. Sam gave a partial shrug. "They still haven't fixed some of the backdoor issues on the simulators. They have to be able to download recorded battles into the simulators but it's pretty easy to get them to connect live to the command systems to display the action and it's not like anyone is using the sims then. The sim room door codes are always easy to crack."

Sam hadn't actually been sure he would be able to watch the battle without panicking, but he'd known at least that if he did, there wouldn't be anyone around to see him freak. More than a couple times, he'd had to turn away or step into the other room just to keep himself from hyperventilating. If Dean hadn't been out there, he wasn't sure he could have watched the battle in the first place.

"You cracked the codes. Violated regs." He nodded. "Viewed classified information without permission. Huh. Some role model you turned out to be." Dean grinned, his tone indicating approval more than disappointment or censure. "Why is it that kind of thing never makes it to the history books? Oh..." he stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "Or that you're a good cook." He was trying to shake off his bad mood, trying real hard.

"I am not a good cook except for Captains who have never outgrown their obsession for peanut butter sandwiches or their ability to shove most of it into their mouths at once. Though I am competent at making spaghetti and salads. Popcorn, too." He looked at the bowl of apples and cheese. "And no sex until at least half that bowl of food is eaten. Neither five yahren olds nor Captains can live solely on peanut butter sandwiches. Furthermore, apparently no one removed my clearances so technically I neither violated regulations by being in the simulator room nor was unauthorized to view classified information. Sloppy record keeping," Sam said and moved the bowl onto the now empty plate. "Eat. You're going to have to deal with reports and post battle briefings and all that other felgercarb soon. That will give you energy and help you grow up to be a big, strong warrior. And you used to love apples and cheese almost as much as peanut butter sandwiches. That's Caprin aged cheese, the type you always devoured like most kids devour mushies, not that you didn't devour mushies with as much enthusiasm." Sam had listened to John's stories about Dean, both of them laughing at whatever new mischief the child had gotten in to.

Amused, Dean took a piece of apple and listened as Sam gave him his theory on why he hadn't violated the regs. Technicalities, ha. Besides, he had to know Dean liked a rebel... yeah, he was just trying to argue and entertain, to take Dean's mind off the battle. It was working. He ate another slice of apple, still listening intently, now to all the reasons he ought to eat. His gaze sharpened, focusing first on Sam's face, then his lips. Wordlessly, Dean stood up, put his hands flat down on the table, leaned over and sealed his mouth over Sam's. He didn't wait for Sam's reaction, instead pushing his tongue past Sam's lips and sliding it alongside Sam's. Making a soft sound of approval, he licked Sam's palate, then curling his tongue around Sam's, started a heated battle.

By the time he pulled back, and lowered himself into his seat, Sam not only looked thoroughly kissed, but his eyes had glazed over. Giving a satisfied smile, Dean said in a low voice. "I'm not that little kid anymore, Sam."

It took a moment for Sam to shake himself out of the places his mind had gone to with that kiss. He suddenly grinned broadly. "Ah-hah! You admit it. So no more Uncle Sammy!" he exclaimed almost gleefully, shaking a finger at Dean. "Besides, you've got me by about three yahrens now so you're the older one of the relationship--" Sam flushed a little, "uhm, or whatever we have."

Sam turned hastily back to the little kitchen to clean up the couple small bits of crumbs and two dirty knives from making Dean his snack. No that wasn't awkward, not at all. Dean had already told him he didn't know what they had and just because Sam wanted it to be more, that didn't make it more, let alone a relationship. "Did you want another sandwich?" Sam asked, giving Dean the chance to completely ignore Sam's little slip.

Dean watched Sam closely, noting how flustered he got. He knew damned well Sam's reaction wasn't solely because of his kisses, though he was more than happy to take credit for that. "Yeah. Yeah, it does make me the older one," he drawled. "And yeah, I'll take another, it takes a lot more to feed me these days. Wonder how peanut butter and jelly... especially jelly would taste on you. Eh, probably make a sticky mess, bad idea," he said, making a dismissive gesture, but eyeing Sam's throat like he was already licking it off him. "Besides, not sure you could take any more sex today." He was only half joking about that, they'd been rough last night and he was sure that they were both marked by bruises under their clothes.

Sam went right to work making him another two sandwiches and this time added jelly to them. "I would taste delicious with peanut butter or jelly or both. You just keep a couple hot wet towels nearby to take care of the stickiness," Sam said without thinking. He'd had so many different types of food and drink licked off his body, he knew how to take care of any such issues. He turned back to Dean and suddenly realized what he'd said. Rolling his eyes he shook his head. "No. No peanut butter or jelly. It is messy."

Carrying the plate of sandwiches over, he walked behind Dean and set them on the table in front of Dean. Leaning in he whispered in his ear. "Of course I can handle more sex today. I was a pleasure slave for two and a half yahrens. If one night of rough play took me down, I wouldn't have been the popular slave I was."

Reaching down, he palmed Dean's cock. "If you need a little stress relief, say the word." He kissed Dean's neck. "I'm always up for a little down and dirty sex with you. I love the way you make me yours."

"Down and dirty but not sticky, huh?" Dean's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back, giving Sam better access. Way you make me yours. The words kept reverberating in his mind and sent images spinning in his head. His hands all over Sam, sliding over smooth skin stretched tight over muscle, claiming him. His mouth tasting, sucking on Sam's flesh, his nipples, making his lover call his name. Course even as he imagined himself owning Sam, it was Sam who was owning him right here, right now. It was Sam's mouth on his neck, Sam's hot breaths fanning across Dean's skin, and his hand teasing Dean's cock. Every muscle in Dean's body tensed with need. "I was... I was thinking along the lines of messing around for a while, then going out for... ngh..." he squirmed under Sam's touch. "... for drinks. Keep that up and it won't be happening."

Sam's chuckle was soft and low. "Messing around, hmm? Isn't that what we're doing?"

Giving Dean's neck a final kiss, he straightened with a final squeeze of Dean's cock. "You have to go to the post battle briefing and dictate your report, too. Then we can go check on Michael, go out for drinks and when we get back, you can make wild passionate love to me. Of course if you want a quickie to hold you until then I'll be happy to help you with that."

Dean got up and turned, pushing Sam up against the wall behind his chair, slanting his mouth across Sam's. This time, he kissed him slowly, taking his time, exploring every corner of his mouth. His hands moved over Sam's body, his sides and abs, then swept upwards to hold both sides of his face as he deepened the kiss. He'd never been with just one person for this long without craving anyone else, never. And yet, at this moment, Sam was all he wanted. "So fracking sexy," he whispered, pulling back eventually, his eyes heavy lidded. "Shower with me?" He wiped Sam's lower lip with the pad of his thumb.

Sam was still catching his breath the kiss that had taken it away. He knew he might be pretty screwed up in the head yet, but this, what he had with Dean, he didn't want it to end. He caught Dean's thumb with his mouth and lightly sucked on it. Letting it go, he knew there was love in his eyes as he nodded and guided Dean backwards toward the bedroom. "Eventually," he whispered.

Dean's heart lurched. He should know by now that teasing Sam or getting him going would always lead to this, that there was no 'half way' when it came to the two of them. Even before he stepped backwards through the bedroom door, he lost his shirt and was reaching for the hem of Sam's. Then there was only silence, and the slide of bare skin against skin.

* * *
It had been a grueling shift. There had been centars of strategic planning on how to get the fleet away from Cylon eyes. Some of the leads Sam had given had been followed up on, and his lady patron Bistronea had proven to be very helpful in providing information on Cylon free corridors of space, and in sharing pass codes to get by their satellite warning systems. She'd also offered Sam... or Sin rather... a home. Dean hadn't wanted in on that conversation, so he'd sent word to Sam via text.

Then there had been centars of solo patrol under a 'no transmissions' order. The only way to counter the boredom had been to crank up the music to keep himself awake and able to keep scanning for any sign of trouble. They were scouting ahead in many directions, keeping their options open, and command would make its flight path decisions based on the information relayed by the scouts. The fact that Dean was on duty for this type of mission was a testament to the fact that they were low on warriors and were on perpetual off ship shifts.

When he got back to the battlestar, he turned in a brief report about his uneventful tour and was preparing to head to his quarters when he received a voice message from his father. Though it was an invitation to meet, his dad's tone made it clear it was a summons. Yeah, he knew he couldn't put this off.

Shooting off a quick message to let Sam know he wouldn't be there for dinner and was seeing his dad, he left for the shuttle bay.

* * *

Sitting at Harry's Bar, Dean downed another drink. His dad had sent a message that he was delayed, but they met up here often enough that Dean knew many of the regulars. Someone had won big at a game of pyramid and was generously buying shots for everyone so it was no wonder that people were getting happy faster than usual. Dean's intent to stay sharp for when he met up with his dad quickly waned when drinking challenges were issued and had to be accepted.

At some point, a really hot blonde pushed her way onto his lap claiming there wasn't enough seating. Dean glanced at the empty barstool next to him, then at her. Oh yeah, he'd had a couple of encounters with her before. "Serenity." He grinned. "How's medical instructional going? You still driving everyone nuts in your trainee outfit?" She started to slide off his lap, and he quickly wrapped his arm around her to prevent her from falling.

"Why don't you come with me and find out for yourself?" she asked, smiling and running her finger down his chest. "You know I'll change into it for you."

He whistled as he blew out a breath, and laughed with some of the others. "Looks like Drake isn't the only one to win big tonight. Too bad my next shift is too soon to do anything about it." He was lying, but enjoying the attention. They flirted for a while between rounds of drinks and then she was leaning in and whispering in his ear about a quicky. Chuckling, he whispered back that he'd never contemplate a quicky with her. The truth was that he'd been getting sex so regularly that offers like this weren't as tempting as they used to be. He did have his hand on her thigh though and was more than aware that as she continued to try to change his mind, she was rocking against him.

John paused at the doorway. It was a relief to see Dean with a woman, but he still didn't know what to make of the rumors about Dean and Sam. Sam had never dated men, but so much had happened to his old friend there was no telling how much he had changed. The bastards had made him into a sex slave and there was no doubt, looking into Sam's eyes, that the Sam he knew, the one who had been his best friend, who had babysat his son, just wasn't there anymore. He couldn't blame Samuel for hating him.

In the yahrens they served together, from the time he had been a guest instructor for some of Sam's classes, to Sam serving aboard his ship, they had been friends. Oh, Samuel was one of the most fracking stubborn men he had ever met and they would argue so loud everyone on the ship could probably hear them, but from that first class where Sam had challenged him on flight maneuvers and techniques, there was instant hate? kinship? brotherhood? John shook his head mentally. He didn't have a clue. But they became close friends by the end of that first class even though there was almost ten yahrens between them in age. One mantra they had always stuck to was 'never leave a man behind'. If rescue wasn't an option, then death was the next best choice. It seemed harsh to those not out on the rim, but that was the way it was. You didn't leave someone to be tortured in the hands of the enemy if there was no prayer of rescue. It was a last resort, certainly, but one that was taken on rare occasions.

He had neither been able to rescue his best friend nor to grant him the freedom of death. They had all assumed, once it was clear Sam had finally broken, that the Cylons would kill him. It had nearly killed his soul to lose Sam and to lose him in that way. He had told Dean all about Sam, maybe exaggerating now and again, remembering all the good things about Sam and polishing them up a bit for his boy and admittedly, for himself. He had wanted Dean to know just how important Sam had been to him and why...why his father had been court-martialed, stripped of his rank and had served time in prison for violating direct orders in an effort to get Sam free. Per the ruling of that court, he was never be given a command position again, and he hadn't held command again, at least not until after the Final Destruction when his experience was desperately needed.

John smiled a little at the memory of his old friend. Sam had been one hell of a strategist and had designed flight maneuvers that were still taught at the academy. He was one of the few pilots that had successful escaped the deadly Cylon pinwheel maneuver, and he had survived it a handful of times. Sure, that Lt. Starbuck and Adama's son Captain Apollo were a hot team, but Sam could put either of them to shame. He was one of the best damned pilots to ever come out of the academy. And now...now he was a shell of what he had been and John blamed himself for that.

...Did Dean and Sam really have sex when Dean was on Thiros? No, he didn't want to believe it. Not because his son slept with a man, but because Sam had been his best friend and the thought of those two together...it bothered him in ways he could barely express. John took a deep breath. It was time to get some things out on the table, it was time to find out if there was a relationship between Sam and Dean, and time to find out...how his best friend was doing. From what he had seen, poorly was a pretty inadequate description.

Walking up to the bar, the bartender had a double shot of elixir on the counter before John had to ask for it. John turned to his son. "We need to talk. About a lot of things."

Dean abruptly pulled his head up, away from Serenity's ear. Great, he was feeling happy and his dad... not so much. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" he said to the girl, exchanging looks with Serenity, who gave him a quick kiss and got off his lap, her smokey blue eyes warning him she'd probably be back later.

Once she had stepped away, he looked back at his dad's brooding expression. "Maybe you should catch up with me first," he suggested. "In the interests of fairness." He couldn't read the depths of his dad's dark eyes but whatever emotions were stirring in them made Dean slightly nervous, even in his inebriated state.

John gave his son a glare. "I didn't come here to get drunk, Captain. I came to speak with my son about some issues." Even as he finished saying that he tossed back his drink and motioned for a refill. "Seems you left a few things out of your report about your trip to Thiros. Is it true? Did you spend an evening with him? Since that slave collar of his is gone, and since he seems to acknowledge he's Sam and not this," John waved his hand, "Sin, why hasn't he been issued his own quarters? What's going on Dean. With him, and with you."

"If I crammed everything in my reports I'd never be done with paperwork." Frack, he hadn't thought his dad would be that direct. His father's steady gaze told him that the flip answer would not be accepted. "Some questions are better left unasked," he said eventually, lifting his glass to his lips. He was wrong, he was nowhere near as drunk as he wanted to be right now.

John struggled to rein his temper back. Cryptic was not on his list of answers he expected out of his son. "Well I'm asking," John grit out. "Are you and he in a relationship?" He knew the answer with one look at his son. He finished his elixir and got a third. Pretty soon he would be catching up with Dean at this rate. "By the Lords and the sunstorm, boy, he's...he's your guardian. He's twenty yahrens your senior, and they haven't fully decided if he's a threat to fleet security. Even with the information he's provided, it was damned convenient the way the enemy showed up soon after his arrival. Even being a war hero...that won't protect him if they decide he's a security risk!"

Dean barely remembered Sam from his childhood, really just that one meeting on the bridge, though other vague recollections were beginning to come back to him. Mostly it was his father's stories that had kept Sam alive in his mind and made him his 'hero' too. Without thought, he rolled his eyes. "I've dated women twice my age." Knowing better than to make a direct attack, he didn't add that his dad hadn't ever had anything to say about that. They both knew what he meant.

The rest of what his father said had Dean pulling his gaze away. He stared into his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl. "You saying the man you talked up for yahrens, you're implying he's a spy." A muscle throbbed in his jaw. When he finally looked up, his eyes were hot with emotion. "Well he's not. He didn't want to come to the Galactica, I had to practically drag his ass over. And I may not know him as well as you, but I know this one thing. He is not a fracking Cylon spy." He paused a beat. "You'd feel less guilty if he were, wouldn't you?" The moment the words slipped past his lips, Dean was sorry.

John had the front of Dean's shirt grasped in his hand before he even realized it. "Don't talk to me about guilt, boy! If he is a spy, they made him that way, and that's my fault too. He was the best damned warrior under my command. They didn't wrest those codes out of him by asking him 'please.' If he's turned, then they broke him. But it's pretty damned obvious they did that. He was a hero. He was a fine man and the best friend I ever had. But I don't know what he is now, what they made him into after all these yahrens. Whatever they did, it's not his fault, but that doesn't mean a damned if the result is that he can't be trusted. And if you two are together," John's eyes narrowed, "are you certain you can trust your own judgment when it comes to him?" He released Dean's shirt and turned back to the bar. His body thrummed with fury, but he knew it wasn't anger at Dean or even Sam. It was the same helpless fury he had felt when he had failed his friend those yahrens ago.

Dean slid back onto his stool, releasing his breath. For a few microns, he'd wondered if they were going to end up on the ground pounding into each other the way he'd found Sam and his dad in his quarters. No, it wouldn't happen, because he felt sick in his gut about what he'd accused him of, not that his own dad's accusations didn't piss him the hell off. "I didn't say we're togeth..." he sliced his hand through the air in frustration, faltered, then his eyes flew back to his father's. "Maybe we are, I don't know. I do know my judgment is not impaired. Not any more than yours was. You knew there was something there worth staying and fighting for even when you were ordered back. Well I know there's something worth fighting for now, no matter what you say... what you think. I think he should get back in the cockpit and you should... you should support me in that." He held his father's gaze, this time holding his ground and refusing to flinch from it.

John's head snapped up and he stared at his son. "Don't you know his every move is monitored? According to the report during the first Cylon attack, he reverted back to being a slave when he was in the shuttle with you as you returned to the Galactica. That man is not ready to be in a cockpit and certainly they won't let him, not until his fate is decided. He's stopped going to see they psych-tech and he isn't taking any of his recommended medications.

"Yeah," John continued, "I went against orders, and I'd fracking well do it again if I had it to do over even with everything it cost me. Listen, even if he isn't working for them, and I'm not saying he is, he isn't the same man he was, he's not the hero you worshipped growing up. That man wouldn't be fucking my...." John bit off the rest of the sentence. He finished off his liquor, refusing to meet his son's intense green gaze that reminded him all too much of his wife's. "Get him back in therapy," John ground out. "Make certain he doesn't do anything remotely suspicious. Keep him away from interfleet com channels. If you feel he's worth fighting for, then fight hard, because you've got one helluva battle if you think they'll ever let him back in a cockpit."

Dean shoved his glass across the bar top only to prevent himself from smashing it. Yeah, Dean had known it would be hard to break it to his dad that he'd not only slept with a guy but was going to continue doing it. But when faced with his dad's bitter words, when he could feel disappointment... disapproval thick in the air, and when his dad couldn't even fucking look at him, a familiar sick feeling churned his stomach. "So that's where you draw the line on loyalty? At who's fucking your son," Dean practically sneered, anger and hurt fueling his words. "Guess that makes two heroes I lost on one day."

He got off the stool and bent over to grab the empty snack bowl he'd knocked off the bar. All he wanted to do right now was get the frack back to his place and to get his dad's voice out of his head.

Dean's words might as well have been physical blows to John. "What if you had a young son, and Michael disappeared and came back twenty plus yahrens later and they had a relationship? And Michael couldn't even look at you without sheer loathing in his eyes and you knew you deserved every last bit of it." John gave Dean a once over.

"That is not my problem," Dean retorted. "That's your problem, and Sam's. Both of you need to deal with it or stop throwing it in my fa--"

"I told you what you have to do. If he wants to fly again, then you are going to have to do what I told you." John straightened to his full height. "And for the record, I miss the hell out of my friend. Still. No matter what he's done, or what he's doing, or what he's become, I still miss him and would give my right arm to have him back."

John turned away from Dean and walked out of the bar.

Chapter Text

He'd had another drink after his father left; he'd needed it. But he hadn't gone back to socializing with the others and something in his expression must have warned them away. He also took the long way back to the Galactica, sitting in a shuttle that had quite a lot of stops, and staring out the pilot's window as he sat in the front next to him. Space... it had a calming effect on him, but he wasn't sure it would help him forget the confrontation with his father. He'd wanted his dad to say he'd help, that he'd pull strings, or make it happen. Or... something. But clearly his dad didn't want to personally have anything to do with it because... Dean made a face.

By the time he reached his quarters, he thought he was doing okay. He knew it was late and Sam would probably be asleep. That was fine, he'd done more than enough talking for one night anyway.

He entered quietly, giving a 'low lights' command.

The command was enough to rouse Sam to instant wakefulness. As a slave, he was accustomed to being ready at the whim of his patron or owner. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, not expecting Dean to be quite so late. He lifted Shadow out of his lap and rose, stretching slowly. Even in the dim lighting he could see his lover was upset. He approach Dean and hugged him wordlessly, surprised when Dean held him a little tighter than he expected. Even more surprised ...to smell perfume on him.

Well, he hadn't expected Dean to stay with him, right? Dean was a ladies' man, everyone had told him that. He buried his hurt with some effort, but made sure it didn't show on his face when they finally pulled away from each other. Sam gave him a light, loving kiss, as he ran his hand over Dean's hair. He could taste and smell the alcohol and couldn't help but wonder if Dean had even gone to see his father. Perhaps he was merely trying to spare Sam's feelings and had met up with the woman whose perfume lingered on him. Maybe he was upset that he had to come home to Sam....

"Let's get you to bed," Sam said softly. "I'm sure you're tired."

He pulled Dean's shirt off and ran his hand over Dean’s chest and back. "You're a knot of muscles." Dean didn't smell of sex, but that might be because he couldn't bring her home. He would have to let Dean know if Dean wanted to bring a lady friend home he could leave for the evening. It would kill him, but he would never let Dean know that. "C'mon, I'll give you a massage so you can sleep better."

He guided Dean into the bedroom and undid his pants and pushed them down, then pushed Dean down on the bed. He finished undressing Dean. "You lay down and I'll get the lotion. I'll get all this tension worked out of your muscles and you'll feel like a new man come morning. Promise."

Turning away Sam felt the tears sting his eyes. It was weak of him and unfair to Dean. He wiped them away with a yawn, so if Dean saw it, he would think Sam was doing nothing more than wiping the sleep from his eyes. He got the lotion from the bathroom and returned to the bedroom to give Dean his promised massage.

Dean had let Sam help him to bed but it took a few centons for him to understand why instead of climbing into bed, Sam had disappeared. In the dim lighting, he saw him return and turned more toward him as Sam got onto the bed on his knees. Reaching for him, Dean tugged him down next to him. Rolling half over Sam, he kissed him. It was a desperate but sloppy kiss, and he knew it. "Did things. Said things I shouldn't have..." he whispered. "Sorry."
Sam was startled when Dean pulled him down. He had disrobed in the vain hope that maybe he could convince Dean he was better that anyone else he might find. He hugged Dean to him and wondered what Dean had done and said. The warrior had nothing to apologize for. He owed no allegiance to Sam. The man had done far more for Sam than Sam or Sin could have ever hoped for. He did wonder if he had been hasty to turn down Bistronea’s offer of a home. If things went as badly as Sam feared they might and Dean didn't want him here anymore, he was sure he could contact her and tell her he had changed his mind and she would take him in. He also knew he would most likely not be a slave in her household but an employee. The duties wouldn’t be that different from Thiros, but he could live with that, even if he wasn’t Sin anymore…given time, he could probably bring Sin back out and let his mind forget about anything Sam.

“It’s okay,” Sam soothed, gently stroking Dean's hair once again. “Sleep. I’ll be here.”

Dean’s breathing evened out faster than Sam expected but Dean certainly had imbibed a goodly amount of alcohol. It probably contributed to his rapid achievement of sleep. Sam, though, couldn’t sleep and couldn't help wondering what Dean’s words meant.

*

Ordinarily, Dean woke on his own, without the aid of an alarm. Today, it was the soft beeps that brought him out of the depths of sleep. He was disoriented and had to lift himself up and look down to realize that the warm body under him was Sam's. Giving a rueful smile, he carefully reached over Sam to the night stand and touched the flat panel to shut off the alarm. His head was a little fuzzy but it could have been worse. Rubbing his eyes, he eased out of the bed and padded quietly to the bathroom.

A half centar later, Dean emerged feeling like a new man. He'd shaved and showered and desperately needed coffee. Crossing the room, he reached into the drawer and pulled out some clean shorts and pulled them on. Glancing at the still figure on the bed, he walked out of the room, and then gave the voice command for low lights in the living room and kitchen area.

Hitting the button on the machine for coffee, Dean slid his cup in place, and then leaned against the counter, watching and waiting for the liquid to drip down.

Sam hadn't fallen asleep for a long time, just holding onto Dean, breathing in his scent, and wondering and fearing what the morning might bring. When he finally woke, he found himself alone and was shocked that Dean had avoided waking him. Glancing at the clock he saw he probably hadn't slept but a centar or two, but still, with his training, it bothered him. Or maybe he had finally begun to grow comfortable, but after last night and Dean's words and the scent of perfume that was almost certainly a false security.

He could smell the coffee and got out of bed. He pulled on his undershorts and pants and headed out to the other room. He gave a faltering smile to Dean. "Morning. Sleep okay?"

Dean turned his head. "Like the dead. You should have pushed me off, did I keep you awake?" he asked, his gaze lingering on Sam's face. "You look tired. I guess that earns you the first cup." As soon as it was full, he pushed it toward Sam and put another cup in its place.

"No, I slept. At least until you drooled on me," Sam said, managing to make his tone light. He didn't turn down the offered cup. "So, uh, how did your meeting with...uh, your dad go? Have a nice time with her...him," Sam said hastily, correcting himself. Frack. He was obviously tired or he wouldn't have let on that he knew Dean was with a woman last night.

Giving a groan, Dean pulled his cup and added sweetener. "Nice time? No. Not really. But I compensated with too many drinks. I'm trying to remember how I got back," he gave a short bark of laughter. "Let's hope I didn't engage in conduct unbecoming of an officer." He brought the cup to his mouth and took a sip of the steaming hot liquid, then set it down. "You alright?" He gave Sam a second glance. "Something happen while I was gone?"

"No, nothing happened. I played with Shadow and watched some vids, some news, and was on the computer a little. Fell asleep on the couch without meaning to. You came in and we went straight to bed." Sam sipped his coffee, Dean's words from the night before still ringing in his mind. He set his coffee down and turned away from Dean. "I'm going get my shower now I guess."

"Okay." Dean frowned. "I did tell you I wasn't going to be here. You and my father don't exactly get along." He wasn't sure, but he was getting some vibes, and that wasn't a happy look on Sam's face.

"I know. I appreciate you calling and letting me know so I didn't worry." Sam paused at the bathroom door. "You know, when I was at the academy, my roommate and I had a thing where we posted a little string beside the door if the room was...occupied. I can go out and do something if you want me to some nights. Give you...your space. And we can do the same thing. Use a string or something so I don't interrupt. Just...just let me know if you want to do that. It's okay. I get it."

Dean stared at him like Sam had grown a second head. "What the frack are you talking about?" He might be a little slow today, but he had no clue what the other man was trying to say. His eyes widened. "You wanted... you wanted privacy? Here?" He bristled slightly but clamped his lips together into a flat line, giving Sam a piercing look.

Sam got a little defensive and turned to face him. "I meant so you didn't have to go to her quarters! And you don't have to lie and tell me you're meeting your dad if you've got a date!"

"Her who? Are you drunk?" Dean demanded. "Goddammit... you're off your meds, aren't you? Is that why this... frack." He slapped his hand on the counter and then advanced on Sam. "First you quit your doctors, and now the meds. What the hell? Don't give me your felgercarb about choice. Take your meds, you'll feel better, and you won't hallucinate, or whatever this is. And if you think they don't know, they do. I didn't believe him when he said you weren't on your meds. What are you trying to do here? What are you trying to accomplish, Sam?"

It was Sam's turn to look baffled at him. "Her who? The woman's whose perfume you smelled of when you got in last night." Sam strode to the bedroom and grabbed Dean's shirt and threw it at him. "Or did John start wearing perfume in the past twenty yahren? And what the hell are you talking about? I didn't quit my doctors! I said I'd go back, I just wanted a week to get my feet under me! And those meds were for anxiety, if I felt I needed them when I went out into new places. I'm not Sin. Crowds don't bother me as much as they did him!" He straightened a little and narrowed his eyes. "Unless they're more than what the doctor told me. Are they?" Sam demanded. "And who knows this?" He shut his mouth clenching his jaw until his teeth hurt. "They're monitoring me. I probably can't piss without them knowing it, can I?" Sam looked at the ceiling and shook his head, feeling the anger boil inside him. First Dean lied to him and went out on a date, then he accused him of trying to lie about something he thought they'd both agreed on. And even if Dean hadn't 'tagged' him like he promised, obviously someone had. Probably a transponder in one of those damned shots the doctors gave him.

Grabbing the shirt, Dean sniffed it and shook his head. "You think I'm lying to you? I don't have to lie to you. I don't lie," he amended. "I don't smell a fracking thing but yeah, someone I know was at the bar and hung out with me until my father got there, he was late." He saw Sam flush with rage, and walked up to him and grabbed his arm. "I don't know how closely they're monitoring. I'm pretty sure there's nothing in here, and of course they know you're not going to the docs, what did you think? They wouldn't? They also know you cracked into the system and watched the battle, that has nothing to do with you, they monitor the systems. I don't think it’s a big deal, we can explain, but... you gotta get a hold of yourself. You have to hold it together Sam, especially out there. You got that?" His gaze locked with Sam's, and he didn't get any warm and fuzzy feelings.

He drew Sam closer. "Just say yes, dammit. Everything doesn't have to be a struggle. Don't flip out on me, please don't," he begged.

Softly Sam said, "You told me you did some things and said some things that you shouldn't have. You told me you were sorry. I just thought... with you smelling of... your friend... that maybe," he shrugged, "you were thinking of being done with me." Sam felt his eyes begin to tear up. "I don't want to be watched or lied to, though at least the security guards following me around have gotten more discreet. If they want to monitor me, fine, but dammit, I want them to tell me. Every move I've made for the past three yahrens I've been under watch and told what to do." He pulled Dean into a hug and rested his chin on his shoulder. "They might as well just get a fracking collar and put it back around my throat if they're that worried about me. I'd get Sin's but--" he choked, "it was gone when I went back to get it. Just tell me what to do Dean. I'll do it. You know I'd do anything for you."

"I told you that?" Holding him, Dean tried to think what that was about. "I was drinking. I... My talk with my father didn't go so well, alright? So I said some things, and he said some things. It has nothing to do with you or some chick." He slipped his hand up Sam's chest, to the side of his face.

"I'm sure it probably had a lot to do with me. He's not thrilled you and I are together the way we are and I'm sure he let you know it." He turned his face toward Dean's palm.

"Sin's collar is... it's safe," Dean said. "I want you to be Sam. I want you to dig your way back. But I want you to do it for you, not just for me. For you, Sam." He knew he might get himself into hot water with this, but he went ahead and let it out. "Me. My dream for you? Seeing you in uniform again someday. Oh yeah, and ordering you around," he grinned slightly, and brought his other hand over to pat Sam's ass. "You know, if you add up the time, I'm pretty sure I'd outrank you. Can you hear me already? Get next to the table, bend over..." he snapped the orders as if to one of his men.

"You know where his collar is? I was going to..." he closed his eyes and shook his head a little. "Never mind. It was stupid. And I am trying to find my way back, everyone just keeps pushing so hard. By the Lords, they expect me to come back after half a yarhen of torture and then being turned into a sex slave for two and half yahren and just waltz right back into being Captain Sam of the Wesson clan? They're the ones who need to get their heads checked. I'm just beginning to catch my breath. I'm still waiting for that knock on the door that are security guards come to take me to trial for giving up the codes." Seeing the look in Dean's eyes he dredged up the smallest bit of a smile. "No matter what you say, that feeling isn't going to go away overnight." He gave a nod. "I think group therapy, or individual sessions will help with that. It's one of the things...I'm making up a list, figuring out where I'm having issues that I want to focus on with the docs. I know they'll find others, but this is why I wanted some time, to figure out my priorities on what I need help with. But Dean, I can't...I can't be a warrior again. Even if I felt like I was worthy of wearing that uniform again, I'd probably lock up the first time I saw a Cylon raider bearing down on me. And I hate to tell you, but I was commissioned before you. You wouldn't outrank me. You would be taking orders from me." At that he did smile. "And I'm sure I could come up with some good orders for you, Captain."

"You're citing technicalities but if you outrank me... give your orders. I'd enjoy them just as much." He released Sam and nodded, privately relieved and pleased that Sam was sorting out what he was having trouble dealing with and not just stalling. "I'm not gonna push. But just so you know, there are others out there, warriors who thought they'd never get back in the seat. I'm sure you could find them, talk to them. If you want. Just..." he pointed at him, "don't give me a uniform kink, I don't need any new ones." Grabbing his cup, his gaze went to the fracking bar across the bedroom door. Yeah, he was going to make use of that one of these days.

"My orders are for you to eat breakfast while I get my shower. Then I want you to find out who's doing this watching of me. I want to talk with them. The Council, the Commander, whoever. I want it out on the table. I don't like this cloak and dagger felgercarb. I'll tell them myself why I'm not going to the doctor instead of them murmuring among themselves and coming up with all sorts of stupid ass theories." He smirked when he saw where Dean's gaze drifted. "Okay no uniform kink. I'm busy working on your apple kink anyhow."

Dean groaned and pulled his gaze away, hating to get caught. Letting out a sigh, he shrugged. "I don't know who. You'd probably get a straight answer from your best friend. You call him that, he calls you that..." he spread his hands. "If you could manage not to kill each other, it might get both of you somewhere." And me out of the middle, he thought.

Sam scowled at Dean's suggestion. John always was hooked into everything. "I'll think about it," he said grudgingly. "Now, eat." Sam waved him to the table then stepped in to get his shower. He smiled a little when he remembered that Dean hadn't been with a woman the night before, that Dean was still his. At least for now.

"I'm going to add 'mother' to your 'uncle' title," Dean muttered quite loudly, walking into the kitchen and trying to decide whether he wanted a big meal that he'd order, or something light. Then he remembered he hadn't had sex in twenty four centars. If he hadn't showered, he'd be invading Sam's shower now. It just meant that it would be that much hotter the next time they did have it. He was practically humming as he reached for the bread.

* * *

Dean had set Sam up with a computer account, but the only messages he had received thus far were regarding his missed appointments with the doctor and notice that his medication was ready for dispensing. The account was still under "Sin" but Sam didn't bother to change it. No matter Dean that said he was a hero, Sam didn't feel like one and he didn't want to receive accusatory messages to prove him right and Dean wrong. He had gotten a slew of messages from good hearted people who welcomed him 'home' but he pretty much had the filter stop letting them through. Among the good hearted well-wishes were several proposals of a more sexual nature as it had made it into the news he was a pleasure slave.

Since Dean told him they were monitoring him and concerned that he wasn't seeing a doctor, he read through several files of psychiatrists and finally chose one that dealt exclusively with military personnel who had suffered trauma of one sort or another. He was pleased the doctor was female though he would have probably taken the doctor even if he was male. He set up an appointment five days away, hoping that would keep the powers that be happy, it would make Dean happy and he was honestly concerned that if he waited much longer than five days Dean would have to drag him there. He was finding more of himself and was able to acknowledge more of what had happened to him and figured within five days, he would be ready--be strong enough--that the doctor wouldn't have undue influence over who he was and who he "should" be. He hoped he would also know then how badly he might need what sort of medication, if any. He knew he probably should be taking the anti-anxiety medication but after what Dean said, he was now even more than a little reluctant to, concerned it was more than just something to calm his nerves. Besides, though he knew he was screwed up, he figured the break downs he had been having were probably good for him in the long run. They were helping him to discover where he was weakest and what sort of triggers he had. If he was all drugged up, how would he know what he most needed help with? So long as he didn't dwell on taking a knife to his wrist, putting a blaster to his temple, or attacking anyone who made him feel panicked or threatened, he figured he was okay. That wasn't to say he didn't have those thoughts, but they usually passed quickly so long as he had Dean to hang onto and help him. If he didn't have Dean...yeah, that would be bad.

He opened the newest message. It was actually addressed to him in the subject line, Captain Samuel. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. John was about the only one who called him Samuel and at this point, would acknowledge his rank. He considered deleting it, but Dean had asked him to talk to John, or at least think about talking to John. He would see what coals his former commander wanted to rake him over today.

'Ill-prepared' for the words on the screen was an understatement.

Samuel,
No matter what's between us, I thought you would want to know. Trishan survived. She got sealed about five yahren after they declared you dead. She works in hydroponics and her husband works communications. They've got kids, two survived the Final Destruction. She's on the Kalendria. I don't know if she knows you're alive.
-John

Trishan was alive? A mix of elation and terror filled him at that thought. Even with his fear of how she would react, and knowing she was sealed to another man, he had to see her see for himself. He was out and on his way to the shuttle with hardly a thought.

It took a couple jumps to reach the ship she lived on since it was well back in the fleet. When he got off the shuttle he went to the computer directory and looked up her location. He probably should have called. She might not even be home but he didn't care. He would sit outside her door until she did come home.

The lift seemed to take forever and then it was a long winding walk to reach her quarters. He hesitated a moment, wondering if she might be sleeping, then buzzed anyhow.

A young teenage girl answered the door and looked him over. Sam's breath caught. The girl was probably thirteen or so but she had her mother's smile and definitely her eyes. "Hi," she said brightly to him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Sam stood a moment dumbfounded, then cleared his throat and found his voice. "Uh, hi. Is...is your mother home?"

"Yeah," she said. She twisted her head. "Mom, some good looking guy wants to see you."

Sam heard Trishan's scolding voice clearly. "Samantha!"

Samantha. He knew the girl was certainly named after him and felt his heart twist even as his stomach did a little flip-flop at hearing the love of his life's voice. She's sealed, he reminded himself firmly.

A tall woman, long blond tresses cascading down her shoulder, pale blue eyes that looked a little tired, came to the door. Sam stared at her and said softly, "Hi, Trish."

Exhaling sharply, she grasped the door frame to avoid sinking to the ground. The blood drained from her face as she drank in the sight of the man she'd almost sealed with, the man she'd cried over for so very long. "Sam?"

"Mom?"

"Go inside," Trish said, without looking at the teen. "How... how is this possible. Is it really you?" she asked, slowly taking a step toward him and reaching out, touching his face, tracing his jaw and cheeks, her heart aching, practically shattering all over again. "It can't..." her lashes were wet as she blinked. "Brother? Son?" she asked, her voice cracking, her heart telling her this was Sam, but her mind telling her it was illogical, even if he'd somehow gotten away from the Cylons, he'd be a lot older, not look as if he was frozen in time and just like the single holograph she still had of him.

"No, Trish, it's me. It's really me." Sam had rehearsed a dozen different things to say to her. There was so very much he wanted to say all at once. He gave her a smile and touched her face, tracing along the memory of what had once been his as he wiped her tears. "The Cylons captured me, but for whatever reason, they didn't kill me after I gave them what they wanted. They put me in cryo, pulling me out now and again to ask me more questions. A few yahrens ago I wasn't useful anymore so they sold me. I'm the slave that Captain Dean brought back to the fleet. They called me 'Sin.'"

He touched two fingers to her lips when he saw she was about to speak. "Let me finish.

"I could tell you all sorts of things about why I'm here at your door, but the truth is, I just wanted to see you. To know that you survived the destruction of the Colonies, that you found a life, a happy one I hope, is more than I could have hoped for. I'm glad that after I was declared lost and dead, that you didn't stop living." He gave a soft laugh as he cupped the side of her older but still beautiful face. "If you had, I'd have been more than a little pissed at you, Sweetheart. We had so many dreams, I hope you got to see some of the places we talked about seeing, and did some of the things we talked about doing."

She was shaking, drinking in his sight, his voice, his touch. It was like an impossible dream come true. It hurt... hurt because it would never 'fully' come true, but it felt good too, so much better than the empty corner his death had left in her heart.

"I didn't come here to upset you though I know I probably have. I didn't want you catching an image of me on one of the vids and...I don't know, I guess I didn't want you to think that I forgot you. I know, based upon your daughter's name, that you never forgot me." He pulled her into his arms, leaned down and stole a kiss from her before releasing her. "I know you're sealed and your husband should kick my ass for that kiss, but I think we both needed a final kiss from the other. I did at least, and I always was selfish that way." He ran his hand down her silky hair. "I know you waited a long time after my funeral, long after you probably should have, before you got sealed, so don't you dare feel guilty. It's beyond a miracle that I survived, that I'm not entirely cracked off my turbos, and I ended up...here." He sighed, admiring her face. "You're still so beautiful. Tell me he makes you happy, tell me you love him, and tell me he adores you, because if he doesn't, I might have to kick his ass."

The tears did stream down her face now. Her hands grasped his shoulders and she smiled, half laughing as he gave his long speech, probably knowing she was incapable. He'd always been good like that, thoughtful. The kiss made her heart ache a little more, as did his questions. "Always the hero, Sam," she whispered. She ignored his questions, he didn't need to hear the answers she had. "I quit flying... I couldn't stand to see all the uniforms." She still searched for his face every time she saw men in uniform. It was one of the reasons she'd refused all recruiting efforts and stayed on this less than comfortable ship with a man who lived his own separate life.

"No, not the hero," Sam said, his smile wavering. "I'm sorry you were put through that and had to leave the warriors because of me. I'm sorry about a lot of things." He pulled her close and hugged her tightly. Finally releasing her, he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, wiping away her fresh tears. "Don't cry, Sweetheart. Our lives were stolen. You made a new one for yourself and I'm glad. Kids and everything. I'm...I'm trying to sort out mine." He gave a nod. "I'm still pretty screwed up. Don't know that I won't ever be screwed up." He gave a soft if bitter laugh. "And they're worried I'm a Cylon spy, watching my every move, even, I think, watching everything I eat, drink, and shit. John's son, Dean, he's looking after me, trying to help me through this. I still have a lot of panic attacks, regressions, nightmares. Sucks pretty much. But I'll get through it. Knowing you're okay, that's a bonus and special to me. I honestly haven't had the nerve to look up any old friends or comrades. Afraid they're dead or that," he sighed, "I'll see things in their eyes I don't want to see. I guess I ought to go...don't want to upset your husband or kids. I just wanted to see you."

"So soon?" A lump grew in the back of her throat. She forced her frozen fingers to release him. What options were there? No good ones. That shuttle had left the station long ago. "Will you..." She swallowed. "How about lunch sometime? I, well I can't seem to put any words together. I need to get used to the idea you're back. There's a lot to talk about. Catch up on," she said, eyes still misting.

"I'd like that," Sam said, "but I don't want this to be secret and cause any sort of rift between you and your husband, okay? I don't want him thinking that I'm trying to steal you away or something. You can reach me at Captain Dean's quarters on the Galactica or send me a message. My account, it's listed under 'Sin' because that's who I was when Dean set it up." He kissed her cheek but his heart ached at seeing the tears still in her eyes. "It'll be okay, Trishan. We can still be friends. I look forward to hearing about everything, and maybe meeting your kids soon, really meeting them and talking to them. You take all the time you need adjusting to the fact I'm back. I'm still trying to take it all in too." Taking her hand he squeezed it then turned and walked away before he did something he knew he'd regret on more than one level.

She swayed toward him, took a step he never saw, and clenched her fists at her sides. Her nails cut into her palms as she watched him walk away, remembered the last time he'd kissed her and told her he'd be back before she knew it. That time, she'd believed him, and she'd turned away sure in the knowledge that he'd be in her life forever. Now she stood there and watched until he turned a corner and was gone.

*
Sam's emotions were churning inside him. He had wanted to stay, to drink in her presence, wanted to kiss her and talk with her late into the night. At the same time, even as he kissed her, he thought about Dean, Dean's tongue sliding into his mouth, his hard body pressed up against Sam's.

Did he still love Trishan? He loved her memory. That was why he'd gotten the picture of Symphony Falls. He never expected her to be alive. It hurt a little that she was sealed, had kids, had a life. Maybe it was jealousy because it was the life they were supposed to have together. If she hadn't been sealed though he would have been upset that she hadn't moved on to have those things and he would have felt guilty for that. He would have gone to her and left Dean because of that guilt, so his heart was not only happy that she was sealed, but that he wasn't forced to choose between his current love and his old flame. He decided he shouldn't tell Dean about her. Yes, he probably should, but he already feared Dean didn't care for him the way he cared for Dean and if Dean thought Sam was looking to break up Trishan's sealing and get back together with her, he was afraid Dean would push him away. He just needed to see her and know she was okay...and see how much of his old feelings for her were still there. More than he would like to admit.

What if Trishan called and asked for him and Dean answered? That wouldn't be pretty, but he could honestly tell Dean...what? Yes he still cared about her? He used to dream about her? But now his dreams were filled with Dean and when he thought about the future the only one he wanted in it was Dean. Until he sorted this out in his own head, he would stay quiet about her to Dean. He would need to tell Dean at some point, and Dean would (hopefully) be upset and even jealous, then he could soothe and reassure the captain that Dean was the only one for him. Yes, he decided, that was probably the best course of action for now.

He checked the time. The next shuttle ride was almost a centar off so he didn't need to rush to the bay. He stepped around a group of young men, still pretty much lost in thought. He hadn't gone more than a couple steps when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see who it was.

Gerard's eyes drilled into Sam's, a smirk crawling over his face. "It is him. It's the pleasure slave from Thiros," he called out to his friends who'd doubted him. "Sin, right? So how about you put your talents to use? We can pay you," he offered, knowing it would be nothing close to what a socialator would demand, but at least it was an offer.

"Drinks. I've got grog," one of the other guys said, lifting the bag in his hand. "You can have all you want." And he would get all he wanted, he thought, looking at the man's lean frame and wondering if the tales were true, all the things a trained socialator could do. He wondered what a trained sex slave could do. He'd bet it was even better than any socialator.

"The name's 'Sam' and I don't do that anymore," Sam said, sliding out from under the man's hand. He was very experienced at slipping out of someone's grasp, or at least Sin was. The smirk annoyed him but he kept his temper in check. He had learned that lesson on Thiros very well too. Besides, he had seen that lustful look so many times. Now, the only person he wanted to see it from was Dean. "But thank you for the offer."

"You're going to have to reconsider. Once more for old times’ sake," Gerard answered, a hard glint entering his eyes. He was more than aware that his other friends moved in to surround Sam. "Look, it's nothing you haven't done before and we're not so bad to look at, or diseased. Except maybe Al...."

"Shut the frack up," Al responded, glaring at the others as they laughed. "Come on, come on, let's get the show on the road. Jax place. I go first." He pushed past Gerard and cupped Sam's jaw. "Let's hope it's true about being able to control your gag reflex. I'm huge." Already thinking about fucking this guy's mouth hard, he felt a sheen of sweat cover his body. "Move."

The tone of the voice, the things that were said momentarily confused Sam, taking him back to Thiros and he didn't resist.

He gave Sam a shove, then the others followed suit, shoving him down the hall to where Jax opened a door.

Something stirred inside Sam when the door opened. Maybe it was Sin knowing he hadn't been won in a game and these men had no right to him. Maybe it was Sam coming back to who he was now. As one of the men started to shove him inside, Sam let his shoulder roll with the force, spun and grabbed the man's shirt. Putting his leg out he yanked the man forward, shoving him into the room and sending him sprawling.

"I'm not a slave anymore," Sam growled at them and backed down the hall away from the door. "I fuck only who I want to fuck."

"Jax..." Gerard stepped forward at the same time as Al. Neither man was willing to let this go, a chance in a lifetime. If they saved for their entire lifespan, they wouldn't be able to buy two centars of a good, professional socialator's time. "Listen slut, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice, but it’s happening," he snarled, grasping Sam's shirt and dragging him up against his broader frame. Immediately, he was kissing Sam brutally hard and he spun Sam and pushed him toward the door.

Al got behind Sam and grabbed his arms, trapping him against his own body, his burgeoning cock pressing against Sam's ass. "Come on, yeah," he said, his voice rough with lust as he pulled Sam backwards, hissing when Gerard pushed the man up harder against him.

It was habit. It was survival, opening his mouth automatically for the man's tongue that immediately invaded his mouth and pressing back against the one behind him. He'd done it countless times ... you always did whatever the clients wanted.

But they weren't clients. He wasn't Sin. He struggled to hold onto that even as his training made him want to do as he was told. He pulled back from the rough kiss, slamming his head into the man's behind him. Feeling his hold loosen, Sam shoved back with his ass, pushing the man further away as he wrenched his arms free. He slammed a fist into the jaw of the man who'd kissed him.

By then Jax had recovered, regained his footing, and unbuckled his heavy belt. Pulling it out and grasping it from both ends, he looped it around Sam's throat and pulled back roughly, getting him to the door. Letting one end slip free, he lifted his arm and struck Sam's back with the leather. "Get your ass in there before I mark you beyond recognition."

The sudden leather around his throat made Sam freeze. His collar. His collar was back on him. It was just as suddenly gone as he felt the lash on his back. Disobedience. Disobedience meant death.

Holding his jaw and shaking his head, Gerard gave a hard laugh. "Oh you're going to pay for that, in ways you never dreamed. Hit him again, not his face," he told Jax, as the rest of them huddled closer, their quarry almost inside Jax's quarters. "You're going to beg... beg for forgiveness."

As the belt cracked one more time, Gerard shoved Sam against the door and ripped his shirt open. "Fuck..." He hadn't expected him to be so built.

Sam turned his face away from the man as his shirt was torn open. His back stung from the blows. Had it all just been a dream? Him being rescued and making love to Dean? Being part of a fleet of the last remnants of humanity? He felt the man's hands caress his chest and pinch one of his nipples hard enough to make Sam gasp. They were like Marchielle only there were three instead of one. Not that he hadn't pleasured more in his day.

Reaching up, he touched his throat. It was bare. He wore no collar. It wasn't a dream. He was a free man. He was Sam.

With lightning speed he kneed the man in the groin and as the man almost doubled over, he slammed both palms against either ear, boxing his ears. He twisted to the side enough that he shoved the man's head down onto the knee he brought sharply upward. Pushing the now half-conscious man to the floor, he turned his furious gaze on the other two. "You want to play rough? I can play rough."

He strode toward the other two men, suddenly doing a handspring to both startle them and to close the gap as they backed away. Regaining his footing with ease, he flattened his hand and tightened the muscles so it was like a flat blade. He struck the windpipe of the man without the belt with that hand, barely keeping himself from using enough force to collapse the man's trachea. He arched his back as the belt cracked across it again. That blow might have drawn blood.

"Get him," Gerard demanded pushing himself up to his knees, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears and recover. His dream turned into a nightmare though. He and his guys ruled the corridors and people feared them. This one had seemed meek, but now... Cursing, he attacked Sam again, this time not caring if he marked the guy. Maybe they'd keep him here, maybe he'd learn then not to go up against them.

Or maybe not. The guy didn't just fight. He knew how to fight, like he'd been trained. The sound of bones cracking and fists pounding into flesh sounded, but when it was all over, Gerard was on the ground, his eye swollen, watching the tall sex worker walk away without a backwards glance. He dropped his head onto the ground, knowing he'd have to get up soon, before security was called.

*

It seemed to take forever to get back to the Galactica. He was still shaken by the entire ordeal. Seeing Trish, seeing her daughter, then being accosted by those three men. He felt Sin at the corners of his mind. Disobedience means death. He reached up half a dozen times to his neck to confirm there was no collar there, though it felt a little tender, bruised, and scraped from where the belt was used and then pulled along his neck. His cheek throbbed dully where one of the men had gotten through his defenses. That he hadn't fought, not like that, in yahrens both terrified him and yet gave him a renewed sense of power. It wasn't like when he and John were fighting. John was a known factor. John would never try the things those three tried. If he had let Sin rule, he had a pretty good idea what he would be doing right now and the thought almost sickened him. It wasn't the potential sexual acts, he was well beyond being bothered by that after his time on Thiros, it was the fact he hadn't agreed to it, that they hadn't won and paid for him. That they had tried to enslave him again. Shifting uncomfortably, he straightened his shirt and felt the slight tug against his skin. Yes, that last strike had drawn blood. Probably damaged the shirt too.

When he finally reached the Galactica he walked wearily back to his quarters. He was hungry, he was shaken, he was tired, and he would be glad when Dean got home from work. He planned on getting a quick shower to wash the filth of the touch of those men from him, brush his teeth very thoroughly, then sleep until Dean got off duty.

He walked into the quarters, startled to find Dean inside. He glanced at his chronometer. Dean should still be on duty! "I didn't expect you home so early," Sam said. "Everything okay?" he asked, all the while wishing Dean would just rush into his arms and kiss his breathless.

"Where the hell..." Dean stopped mid-stride, startled at first by the sight of blood and a swelling welt across Sam's cheek. As he noticed the state of his shirt and the emotions brewing in Sam's eyes, his blood shot to his temples. In two strides, he was in front of Sam, inspecting him, his eyes searching Sam's. "What happened. Who happened?" he demanded, hoping it wasn't another tussle with his dad, but even if it was, he was going to go give the elder Winchester a piece of his mind. Anyone else was toast.

"I went to see...an old friend. There were some thugs I ran into on the way back. They recognized me as Sin and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer," Sam answered simply. "They won't be bothering anyone for a few days at least." He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, loving the feel of Dean's uniform under his touch. "I'm okay," he tried to reassure Dean, but wasn't sure either his voice or his eyes managed to carry that message very well.

"Are you?" Dean wasn't so sure. He pulled him into his arms, holding him tight for a moment, just as much to force himself to stay as to give him comfort. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?" he asked, though 'demanded' was nearer the truth. "Did they..." His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat.

Sam practically melted in Dean's arms, so glad to feel safe again, managing not to wince as Dean's arms pressed against the welts on his back. Still, he had beaten his training, he had defended himself. If the three had left that belt around his throat instead of using it as a weapon, he wondered if he could have fought them off or if he would have submitted. He would have fought them, he decided, because as Sin, he belonged to Dean. He clutched at Dean and shook his head. "One guy kissed me. That was as far as they got before I took them down."

"Okay." Relief flooded Dean. He knew Sam was fragile, this... it would not help him, and if something worse had happened, it could have broken him. Pulling his head back, he cupped Sam's cheek and brushed his lips lightly with his own before pulling all the way back and looking intently at him. "Alright. Names if you got 'em, location. Where are these fuckers." They were going out with space trash, if he had anything to do with it.

Sam hesitated. He didn't want Dean to know he had gone to see his ex-fiancé but if those three attacked others the way they had attacked him..."On the Kalendria. One's name was Jax, another Al. I don’t' know the leader's name." He pressed his bruised cheek against Dean's gentle touch. "I'm okay. Really. I had a couple times I wasn't okay, but I got through it. I just thought of you."

The names and information instantly memorized, Dean gave a nod. "Will you be alright if I...." He looked toward the door. "Let me take care of this, and I'll be back soon." He spoke low and calm, but he was reeling with rage.

"Stay," Sam begged, seeing the savage look in Dean's eyes and fearing what Dean would do, fearing he would do something that could cost him his career. But it meant a lot that Dean was so upset. "I called security and am pressing charges. They're in the brig by now, or on their way there after the doctor sees them and heals their broken bones and stuff. And I don't want you doing something stupid, not because of me." He pulled Dean back into his arms. "I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I need a shower. Just stay and--" he knew it was girlie, but he needed it, "just hold me. Make me feel safe again." If their physical contact drifted into sex, that was fine by him too, because it was Dean.

He was riled, Dean was fracking angry and wanted to put his fist through something, but he knew Sam needed him right now and that this had to be his priority. He took a couple of deep breaths and closed his arms around Sam again. "You are safe. You kept yourself safe Sam, you did it. Lucky for them or I swear..." he pressed his clenched fist into Sam's back, and told himself to calm the fuck down.

Holding him a bit tighter, Sam wanted to make certain Dean wasn't going anywhere, as much to protect Dean from himself as to keep him close. He felt himself tremble a little, unsure if it was hunger or upset. He preferred to blame it on hunger.

"Alright..." Dean said. "Okay, you're safe, here with me. I'll get something for you to eat. You... why don't you change, hmm?" Since Sam didn't seem to be releasing him, Dean walked him backwards into the bedroom and pushed him to sit on the bed. First thing he needed to get rid of was the offensive shirt.

He lifted Sam's chin up, his gaze falling onto the injury again. "I'll take care of that too," he said, undoing the part of Sam's shirt that wasn't torn, then tossing it across the room, into the recycle bin next to the computer station. Leaning in, he saw the welts on Sam's back and around his shoulder. His mouth tightened, his palm moving over the signs of the injuries.

Sam jerked away a little at Dean's light touch to the injuries on his back. They really weren't that bad, he had suffered far worse on Thiros, but the touch had caught him off guard. Sensing Dean's fury rearing up again he reassured Dean. "It's okay, just a little sore. This is nothing compared to things I've been through. I preferred the belt across the back to their leaving it around my throat." He shuddered a little. "When they had it around my throat," he shook his head, his hand going to his bruised and scraped neck, "I almost lost it, almost gave in." He gave Dean weak smile. "I guess maybe I better move my appointment with the psych doc up a few days. I did make one like I promised, five days from now. Would you...would you make certain that the prescription the doc wrote for me, that it really is just anti-anxiety, that there's nothing else in there? I have my pills from Thiros, but they're mostly just a sleeping aid to keep the nightmares away." He ran his hand alongside Dean's face. "Pizza," he said assertively. "I want pizza and a salad for dinner."

Dean was having trouble keeping it together, especially when he heard about the belt choking Sam around the throat. A fight, just guys letting off steam after an argument, that he wouldn't care about. This shit was personal, it hit Sam where it counted... his past, a past that was created by the damned Cylons and the so called slave masters. That humans who knew his history were trying to push him down, treating him the same way, burned him up. It was only Sam's sudden and unexpected decisiveness and agreement to start getting medical help sooner that brought Dean out of brooding thoughts that could easily make him do something he'd regret.

"Done,” he said thickly, pulling Sam up off the bed and undoing his pants. "I'll have everything ready when you come out of the shower." He peeled Sam's pants off, kissing his belly lightly as he dropped to the ground and undid his boots. Pulling them off, he waited for Sam to step out of the boots and pants, then rose. His eyes burned with emotions, emotions he wasn't going to lay on Sam right now. Instead, he took Sam's large hand in his and led Sam to the bathroom.

Within a few centons, he had Sam inside the shower. Water sprayed on him outside the stall before he closed the door and walked out.

Almost like an automaton, Dean ordered their dinner and set the table. He made the calls to the doctors and got the answers Sam needed, and then he sat down at the dinner table with an electronic writing pad in hand. He addressed a message to Sam, setting it to delayed send so that it would not go out for thirty days. He dated the entry, knowing Sam would not likely forget what happened this date. Staring at the blank slate, he forced all of his thoughts and feelings to the surface, and started to write without editing. It was his stream of consciousness, and parts of it might not make sense, but he let it all out. He started by telling Sam he knew Sam liked to discuss things, feelings, and made a joke about him being stuck with someone like Dean. He also noted that probably now wasn't the time to explore Dean's feelings anyway, and then he launched into those very feelings, like he never had before.

By the time he was done, the letter was several pages long. It addressed everything... how proud he was that Sam had stood up for himself and recognized he wasn't a slave, that he hoped if Sin had risen to the surface that maybe they'd both fought... that Sin remembered Dean telling him he wasn't a slave, that he believed it now. He spoke of his own conflicting feelings. Wanting to protect Sam from everything, to order him not to leave their quarters alone ever again, and at the same time wanting him to find freedom, real freedom, to be the man Dean remembered and saw glimpses of more and more often these days.

Then he wrote about the feelings that seeing the marks on Sam had stirred up. Some of them were very dark, 'anger' was too weak a word. He knew Sam had probably seen through that so he didn't elaborate too much, but he spoke of another emotion that had him baffled, maybe scared even. Jealousy. He was having trouble dealing with others kissing Sam, touching him, wanting him. Every day, he walked out that door thinking he'd have no trouble with Sam dating someone else or being with someone else, and he believed he had that same right. Yet, he wasn't so sure anymore. He wasn't even sure if it had anything to do with the day's events. He'd told his dad that they were having a relationship. Really, his dad had forced the confession, but maybe... maybe now that it was out of the way, he was feeling... he was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn't coming close to ending his lifelong running away from permanent, or maybe exclusive was the better word, relationships. He ended by noting he might destroy the message before it ever got sent.

Shutting the writing pad down, Dean pushed it aside and got up to get the door. This... his reactions, the need to tell someone or write it down, the whole thing was unlike him. He was done with it for now.

Chapter Text

[Almost 1 month later]

Sam liked his new psych doctor and though the doctor wanted to see him every day, he insisted on every other day. He needed those days in between to think through the things talking with the doctor had revealed to him and he made a conscious effort to try to put those discoveries into practice. Even though it went against his nature because of his time on Thiros, Sam even agreed to take a low dosage anti-anxiety medication. Again the doctor wanted him on something stronger, but he refused, insisting the only way to beat his demons was to recognize them and face them head on. Dean seemed pleased and proud of his progress and that made him happy.

'Surprised' barely covered it when Trishan called and invited him to lunch at one of the eateries on the Galactica. He agreed to join her and learned she had left her husband, moved to the Galactica, and was in retraining to be a viper pilot once again. Looking into her eyes it was hard to tell her that while he still deeply cared about her, he was in another relationship. At least, he hoped he was, but he didn't admit that fear to her that Dean wasn't interested in anything permanent. There was no doubt it hurt her, but she wanted to continue to have lunches and be friends.

The doctor told Sam it probably wasn't in his best interest, or Trishan's for that matter, but she was someone from his past, someone who remembered the things he had done and a grounding to his former life that he hadn't realized he so desperately needed. With her, he didn't feel quite so lost in time as he normally did, and she didn't give him strange looks when he didn't know something because it had happened after he had been captured. He had changed a lot in those few yahrens, just as she had changed in the twenty plus yahrens since he had gone missing in action. Even so, he found talking with her cathartic and admittedly while some of his old feelings for her stirred inside him, he was committed to Dean for as long as Dean would have him.

The Cylons continued their raids on the fleet over the next couple weeks, hitting periodically and shifting tactics now and again, going from striking food and fuel to targeting large unarmed civilian colonial craft. Sam knew in part that was his fault. He remembered the questions of how to distract and divert ships, generating the most stressful chaos for humans. He couldn't help but study the attacks, the warrior in him needing it, though he would deny it if anyone asked.

He looked at the star charts and studied the attacks and the reactions and changes in course the fleet made. He realized exactly what the Cylons were up to. Although he had briefed Commander Adama on everything he knew, bits and pieces of information rose to the surface now and again. He had been documenting them, but none had seemed particularly salient, not enough to bother the commander with. Until now. Watching the developments, he could see a pattern and had remembered stories a few patrons on Thiros had told him about pirates that worked for the Cylons, and Cylon listening posts and the way the gravity and magnetic fields of a particular sector of space cause ships to funnel down a particular path, ripe for plunder or ambush.

Just as he was gathering the information and making certain all this thoughts and notes were in order, Dean returned, his shift finished. "I need to see the Commander," Sam said, before Dean had hardly taken two steps in the door. "We've got a problem."

Dean had completed two shifts separated by a break of only two centars. He still had a hundred things to do, including completing his report and setting up meetings with several people who were in re-training for pilot positions. The captains from red and blue squadrons were alternately given first crack to interview people they might want on their teams, then the silver spars could take a look at anyone who wasn't snapped up. The renewed recruiting efforts had started to pay off and someday, Dean hoped that Sam would be on the list of names in re-training. In fact, he intentionally left reports and other information about attacks and responses around in his quarters, sure that when he was not around, Sam couldn't help looking at them and evaluating. There were the sometimes slips as well, when Sam would give him advice on how to deal with something in the future, or give him ideas without seeming to even talk about battle plans. That told him how closely Sam was in fact monitoring defense efforts and getting sucked in.

"What prob--"

The door hadn't closed behind Dean, and Michael walked in. "The 'Corner Bar' is offering free grog for one centar starting now. It's in 'warrior appreciation' and that would be us. Come on Cap, I think you could use a drink. You too Sam." His usual ready smile for the Captain's 'special friend' didn't come as easily today.

"Free grog, sounds good." Dean's gaze went to Sam's face. "But Sam has something he wants Adama to hear. What is it? If it isn't big, I'd wait. He wasn't in a good mood."

Sam bit his lip. One centar wouldn't make a difference, but if he'd still been a warrior and withheld this sort of information, he would get busted back to lieutenant. After seeing how tired and stressed Dean looked, he gave them both a smile but wondered why Michael seemed a little more reluctant to include him in the festivities. Maybe the warriors needed time to themselves, to be able to talk about recent battles and losses and not have an outsider present. He got that. He remembered those days. "You two go on. I'll catch up in a bit."

"No, I want you to come," Dean quickly said. What he really wanted was to get Sam to make good on all of his 'upside down' teasing, but a drink sounded good. "Come on," he gave Sam a slow grin. "You can keep the 'perfume' off me."

Mike looked between the two men but didn't ask about the obvious joke they were sharing.

Sam pushed Dean toward the door. "Go. Have a drink. Let off some steam." He saw Dean's gaze slip to the pull-up bar and smirked. "I promise I'll show up soon and maybe let you get me drunk off my ass. Maybe." He glanced at the pull-up bar. "Maybe. Mike, drag his butt out of here, and make him go have a good time. But not too good a time until I get there. Go!"

About to argue with Sam, Dean's transmitter went off. "Frack," he knew from the tone of the beeping that it was high command and couldn't be ignored. Rubbing his eyes, he nodded toward the door. "Change in plans, you two go and I'll meet you there. Drink. A lot, so when I get there I won't have a lot of work to do to get you drunk."

Sam recognized the tone of the sigma-wave transmitter as readily as Dean. He hesitated, unsure what to do. They would probably be talking protection strategies, dividing the fleet, and course changes. Command would need his information but at the same time, the meeting with high command would be classified and Sam wouldn't be permitted to attend. He pressed the information into Dean's hands. "Make sure command sees this before any final decisions are made. The Cylons are herding us toward a sector of space perfect for an ambush and there are other races in that area that'll help them. You know where to find me if they have any additional questions, but this is pretty much all I know. I don't have exact locations except for a few spots, and those are in there. I didn't even remember this stuff until I was studying the attacks and course changes. Tell them I'm sorry, but my memory doesn't always cooperate and I didn't realize where we were until I was looking at the star charts. If I remember anything else, I'll let you know."

For a moment, Mike stared at Dean, then motioned for Sam to head out with him. The doors closed behind them and he was silent for a long time as they walked through the long halls and then took the lift. When they got out, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "He's falling for you, you know that." It was a statement of fact more than a question.

Sam glanced over at Mike in surprise. Not only had he been surprised the loquacious lieutenant had been quiet for so long but he was even more shocked by the words when he finally spoke and the tone in which they were said. He looked at floor a moment. "I take it you don't approve of me as his lover."

Mike shoved his hand in his jacket pocket but refused to look away from the man who'd visited him in the hospital just as often as his best friend. "You tell me that you've told Dean about your girl, and you got my approval." His brows snapped together. "I saw you, both of you." He'd been given lighter duties so his schedule had changed. It meant he had been at the cafeteria at a time he ordinarily wouldn't have been. He'd seen Sam and the trainee, staring intently into each other’s eyes and holding hands across the table. Then he'd seen them together another time, which told him it wasn't a fluke.

"My girl?" Sam asked, momentarily baffled, then realization sank in. Trish. Mike had seen him with Trish. He was silent for a handful of strides. "No, I haven't told him about her. I wasn't sure how he'd take the news that I was having lunches with my ex-fiancé. I won't deny that I care about her. I won't deny that she wants more than just lunches, but I've told her I'm in a relationship. It's so damned complicated, Mike. Everyone tells me that Dean's a ladies man, that he doesn't have permanent relationships, and he certainly never hit on guys. I haven't really known if he considers me someone he feels obligated to take care of and the sex is just a bonus. I'm worried once he think I'm well enough to stand on my own, that that's exactly what he'll make me do. I love him Mike, and Trish is just a friend, someone that remembers me and...I don't have many people that do. It's hard being such an outsider in a world that's changed so very much in twenty yahrens. Talking with her helps remind me of who I was, and is helping me find my way back to myself. I don't know if that makes much sense, but I'd never cheat on him. Never."

Mike tried to believe, but he'd been around too long. It always started with denial and sometimes with good intentions. "I saw what I saw, Sam. That wasn't a look between old friends. If that's all it was, it wouldn't be a secret." He gave Sam a look. "You're using her, and him. If he cuts you loose, she's your safety net. That's the way I see it, whether you love him or not." He looked down at the ground as he walked, then lifted his head. "He doesn't forgive easily. You remember that, you remember what I told you that time you came to see me."

The sound of laughter reached them as they neared the bar. "I know you're messed up, you've told me that. I just want to makes sure you don't pass it on. Dean's a good guy. I hope you are too." Mike punched Sam in the arm. "Let's get drunk."

Sam did remember and reluctantly admitted to himself that she was his safety net. He did still care about her, but even in the few weeks he had been seeing her, he knew they weren't what they once were. He needed to live in the now, not in the past, even if it was hard to give it up. There wasn't a Caprica anymore, there weren't the Colonies and Rim worlds. Trishan wasn't his fiancé anymore. And as long as they continued to see each other, they would be holding each other back from having a life in the now.

"You're right. I shouldn't have kept it from him. I'll tell him tonight. And I'll tell Trish we can't keep seeing each other. It isn't fair to Dean, and it isn't fair to keep Trish hoping I'll return to her when I only want Dean. Yes. Let's definitely get drunk. Besides, I have another promise to keep to Dean and I think tonight would be a good night for it. Thanks, Mike," Sam said sincerely then followed him into the bar.

Mike nodded and flashed Sam a smile. Maybe everything would be alright after all. As soon as they reached the bar, he pushed into the group, pulling Sam with him and giving a general intro. "You all know Sam, he's keeping Dean's place warm until the Captain gets here." Some of the warriors had met Sam, but even those who hadn't knew him by reputation, and the rumors about Dean having taken Sam for a lover. Most discounted the rumors, but everyone was curious. At first, it was like a question and answer session, with questions lobbed at Sam. However, from his reactions, answers and comments, they quickly recognized Sam for what he was - one of them, a warrior.

Very pleased with himself, Mike ordered a couple more rounds for them, turning and diving into the conversation. Time passed quickly, and the bar owner announced he was giving the warriors one additional centar of free drinks. Dean walked in to the sound of loud cheers and raised his right arm up in a sign of victory and accepting the cheers as if they were meant for solely for him.

He got a couple slaps on the back and then found Sam and Mike. "Heard you guys drank the place dry." Ordering grog, he put one arm behind Sam's back and leaned in, speaking low. "How's your balance when you're drunk?" Dean was aware of the speculative looks and didn't change his demeanor.

The arm Dean placed around him surprised Sam. Dean was willing to show his affection in the company of the other warriors? He felt his heart warm and regretted that he hadn't told Dean about Trish.

Sam grinned at Dean. "My balance is still perfect when I'm drunk. Had to be able to keep up with my patrons you know," he answered quietly. "I think that bar is going to get some use tonight. I've teased you with it long enough. Guess we'll just be going from one bar to another. Bar hopping," he said with that special, mischievous smile that was Sin's. He grew more serious then. "I want to tell you something when we get back to quarters. You'll probably be pissed at me. Really pissed, but I swear I'll make it up to you. Any way you want me to, so long as you forgive me for being stupid." He wiped the foam from his lips, then licked them dry, making sure Dean saw. He wanted Dean to want him so badly, he'd forgive Sam anything shy of cheating on him, which he would never do. Even though keeping the information about Trish from him probably came pretty close. He just hoped Dean understood.

Hyper focused on Sam's tongue sweeping across those scarlet lips, Dean's mind went straight to the gutter. "Sex first, talking after," he said decisively, then dragging his gaze away before he decided to make use of this bar. He grabbed the bottle of grog that was in front of Sam and drank half of it down, using it to cool himself off. Two drinks, and then he'd drag Sam to their quarters.

"So, what did they want? Anything interesting?" Mike asked Dean.

"Oh yeah. You'll find out tomorrow," Dean grinned. "What I've been after them for," he added, giving Mike a hint without breaking any rules.

At Mike's return grin, Sam couldn't help but wonder what Dean had been badgering high command about. With Dean stealing his grog he jabbed him in the ribs. "That was my grog, thief!" he complained good naturedly. Another bottle was in front of him almost immediately. He saw Dean start to grab his fresh cold bottle and held it out of his reach. "Uh-uh. You finish off that one."

As if to make a point he brought it to his lips, wrapped his lips around it then tilted his head back. He chugged the whole bottle, the other warriors whooping as he drank it all down without seeming to take a breath. He grinned at them then looked at Dean and licked the last few drops off the lip of the bottle. "Mmm, I've missed grog."

Mike looked at Dean. "Frack, he's damned evil, isn't he?"

Dean let out a breath. "That's just the tip of the ice berg. Evil... yeah." His hand closed more tightly around his bottle but he gave a calm smile, totally fake. His gaze met Mike's and he knew for sure they were both on the same page. "You always did say you hoped I'd meet someone slightly evil who twisted me up on the inside."

"Wow... you actually listen to me." Nothing more needed to be said, the message was loud and clear. "What about your dad?"

"Hates it." Dean shrugged and looked back over at Sam who was doing shots now having accepted a challenge. "I guess I don't care anymore whether they get along. I just want peace." He'd only seen his dad a couple times since that day they'd argued at the bar, and neither of them had brought up Sam.

They talked a while more, and Dean was called on to decide which of two of his men had blasted more Cylon ass. The centar passed quickly and free drinks were soon over.

Sam could drink with the best of them and didn't have any trouble keeping up with the challenges they tossed at him. He had developed a strong tolerance for alcohol though admittedly, without the extra drugs Thiros provided, he was beginning to feel its effects. He finally slowed down, giving covert glances to Dean. He was surprised Dean hadn't already dragged him off to their quarters, but Dean seemed to be enjoying himself and for that Sam was glad. Dean looked handsome and alive and Sam honestly couldn't wait to get him back to their quarters.

But when to tell Dean? If he told Dean about Trish before sex, it could ruin the mood. If he told him after, Dean might go off in a huff. After a long debate with himself, he decided he had to tell Dean before. Dean could yell at him and be upset, and maybe they could have really good make-up sex. If he could call up Sin's charms, he was certain he could convince Dean to forgive him.

After they finished the last of their free grogs, Dean and Sam hurried to their quarters. As soon as they were inside, Sam blurted out, "We have to talk now."

Grabbing the front of Sam's jacket, Dean swung him around and pushed him against the wall. Kicking Sam's legs apart, Dean stepped between them and leaned in, using his body to pin Sam. "You been teasing me all night Sam. There's not a chance in Kobol that we're talking." As if to make his point, Dean ground his arousal against Sam's thigh, letting him feel how hard he had him. "Give it up... give it up to me, Sammy," he demanded, slowly bringing his mouth down over Sam's.

Sam moaned as the feel of Dean's hard cock against him. He loved this, loved Dean and didn't want anyone else. Why did he ever allow himself to hang onto Trish? Because I'm afraid. Just as he told Michael, he was afraid Dean wouldn't stay with him. Although men had never been his thing, the connection he felt to Dean went beyond rescuer and rescued.

"I love you," Sam got out before Dean's lips covered his own and he pulled Dean into a tight embrace. His own cock which had been half hard when they entered the quarters, was rapidly changing condition. He ground back against Dean almost desperately as if to prove to himself that which he already knew. Their tongues tangled and Sam surrendered himself completely to Dean. He likes to win you a voice inside him reminded him. He's already won me Sam told that voice, but knew it was right. Taking hold of Dean's wrists, Sam shifted his weight and spun them so Dean's back was pressed against the wall and he held Dean's wrists firmly above him. He slid his thigh between Dean's legs and broke their kiss.

"You can have me, if you can take me." Sam grinned at Dean, his eyes alight as he rubbed against Dean. Leaning in, he licked teasingly over the man's lips. "Take me Captain, make me yours."

Their eyes locked, Dean's breath hitching in his throat as he recognized the challenge. It made his blood burn hotter. He hardly moved, letting Sam keep him pinned for a moment and waiting for his playful tongue. When Sam licked him again, Dean managed to twine his tongue around the tip of Sam's before Sam drew it back. "You're already mine," Dean answered finally, his expression solemn and his voice thick with emotion. "Talk later."

Without warning, Dean bent his elbows and aimed them at Sam's shoulders, simultaneously pushing off the wall and forcing Sam to step back or lose his balance. "You do not know every trick," he said, wrists breaking free of Sam's grip. He closed his arms around Sam, in the process pinning Sam's arms to the sides of his body, and dragging him up hard against his frame. The hard line of his cock pressed against Sam and rubbed against the other man's equally hard cock. "You really want to play around? I'm so hot for it... I don't know if I can," he said, releasing Sam suddenly.

The way Dean had said 'mine', the way his voice almost hitched, the serious and lustful look in his eyes all told Sam the same thing. Dean was his too. No, he didn't want to play, he wanted Dean to take him, but he knew how much more pleasure Dean often got out of it when he was able to catch Sam first. Not this time though, Dean wanted him too desperately.

Dean didn't let him go anywhere. Reaching out, he started to shove Sam's jacket off his shoulders and was relieved when Sam let him. His palms skimmed over Sam's warm belly. Biting his lip, he caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, over Sam's head and tossed it to the ground.

"Did you always look like this?" he asked, his heated gaze traveling over Sam's chiseled chest even as he started to unbuckle his belt. He wondered if Sam had never gotten captured, and after he himself had grown a little, would there have been anything between them? He'd have to ask Sam later what he would have done if he were pursued by jailbait, but he was too smart to ruin the moment.

"Unbelievably built and handsome?" Sam teased. "Of course." He was tempted to make a crack about having changed Dean's diapers, but this was their now, not Sam's past. It was time to give up that past and look ahead. He carded his fingers through Dean's short hair. As Dean continued to undress him, he began working to get Dean's coat off of him.

"C'mon, I wanna see skin too," Sam said, and was pleased when Dean let him get his coat off. Before he had a chance to pull Dean's shirt up, Dean already divested himself of it. Toeing off his shoes, he pulled Dean close and kissed him. "Tell me what you want lover. You want me on the bar? Want me in a handstand? Tell me your most perfect dream," he whispered in Dean's ear, running his tongue around the inside of its shell while palming Dean's very hard cock through his pants.

All the ways he wanted Sam slammed into him at once. Upside down on that bar, in a handstand, against the wall, in front of the bathroom mirror, on all fours, bent over a chair... the list was endless, and so was his imagination. What did he want right now? Groaning as his stomach clenched from the way Sam was touching him, Dean struggled to make a choice.

In the end, he surprised himself. "Honestly? Right now? Just want you to want me as bad as I want you," he said, walking Sam backwards, pushing him with his body until Sam's ass banged into the dining table. Grasping Sam's jaw, Dean pulled him close for a wet and dirty tongue fuck that went on until they were in danger of passing out from the need for air.

Slightly dizzy, he lifted Sam up onto the table. "Lean back for me. Palms on the table," he said, his breaths still uneven and harsh. As soon as his lover complied, he stepped between Sam's legs and finished undoing his pants. His eyes were laser focused on Sam, his hunger sharpening as his hungry gaze took in every inch of him, lingering on his soft, sensuous lips, on the column of his throat, and lower, his muscular chest and line between his pecs leading to his abs. "Lift up," he said, almost gruffly.

Stepping back, he slowly tugged Sam's pants off, knowing Sam could hold his body arched off the table for as long as he wanted. "You're like a godamned piece of art," he said, cursing at the rush of overwhelming need that came over him. Stubbornly, he fought it, taking his time watching Sam, memorizing how he looked right now, the clean lines of his body and the aroused state of his cock pushing up against his belly. "Do you think I can still make you come just by looking?" he asked.

"Yes," Sam said, certain Dean's heated gaze could do just that. "But I know you want to touch me, make love to me, be inside me." Sam looked down his body at the hungry look in Dean's eyes. "But I don't think I can want you as bad as you want me," Sam said. When Dean's smoldering gaze locked with his, he added softly, "because I want you more. I want you a hundred, a thousand more times than anything else in the universe. You're my universe. You're my everything."

Sam sat up, wrapping his legs around Dean and pulling his close. He kissed him slowly, lovingly and though he could tell Dean wanted to devour him, he pulled back, keeping Dean from gaining that upper hand. His hands danced over Dean's body caressingly until finally one hand dropped to the fastening of Dean’s pants. Undoing it slowly, he then unzipped the pants practically one tooth at a time, all the while making slow love to Dean's mouth, as his free hand continued to rub over Dean's nipples, along his neck, across his belly. Once Dean's pants were open he reached in, rubbing Dean's cock through the cloth of his undershorts, moaning softly at the feel of Dean's hard need.

Dean kept it together, resisting the urge to shove Sam down on the table, but it was Sam's declaration that helped him hang on. Universe. That was a good way of putting it, and Dean had finally come to realize Sam was his universe too. His moan turned into a ragged gasp when Sam finally reached inside his pants. Mindlessly, he thrust into his hand even as he realized there was still a barrier of cloth between them. "Your universe is about to explode. Are you trying to kill me?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Sam paused long enough in his kiss to see the desire and need in Dean's eyes, that he could smell in his scent, and could feel in the tension in his body. "Never. Exploding universes are never good. Unless someone is there to catch the explosion," he teased, kissing Dean again.

Dean'd had it, he was close to breaking, but he still fought. Fought against the needs of his body, desires that had been inflamed over the last few centars. This was going to be special, a night they both remembered, because tomorrow he would tell Sam what was in his heart. Now. Now he would just show him.

Sucking Sam's lower lip into his mouth, Dean released it with a soft wet pop. "I never wanted anyone more than I want you. You've spoiled me for good," he said. He brushed his lips across Sam's cheek and then traced his jaw, not afraid to give him little love bites. Burying his face in Sam's throat, he licked and kissed his way downward, tasting him, breathing him in with every breath. When he reached Sam's nipple, he pushed him back, so Sam was on his elbows and Dean was faced with the broad expanse of his chest. He kissed and licked and sucked and made slow love to every inch, his hands at Sam's sides, helping to hold him up while his thumbs stroked and teased his nipples.

Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd had love made to him like this. Yes there were times his and Dean's lovemaking wasn't hard and wild and demanding, but this was different. Something in Dean's demeanor was different. He'd had patrons who had made love to him, long and slow, but it was still just sex. This was anything but and Sam was melting under Dean's attentions. And his words...did Dean really mean them? One look at the way Dean was treating him, so tenderly, Sam couldn't find it in himself to doubt it. His fears of Dean leaving him were slowly evaporating.

Dean moved lower, tonguing his way down Sam's abs, sucking in his flesh hard enough to leave little bruises and smiling when he felt his lover's muscles clench and tighten. Feeling Sam's insistent cock pressing against his cheek, he kissed it, then took it in his fist, groaning at how hard and swollen Sam was now.

Opening his mouth, he took as much of Sam inside as he could and sucked hard before pulling off. "Go ahead, fuck my mouth," he whispered, wrapping his lips around Sam's hard flesh once again and squeezing the base of his cock.

Sam moaned when Dean's mouth took his cock and he threw his head back arching but resisting the desire to push in deeper. With Dean's words, Sam felt his control wither though not entirely disappear. He fucked slowly into that mouth, finding how deeply Dean could take him without choking him and letting Dean get used to his cock. Once he was sure of the depth and Dean's comfort he increased his pace, groaning as he thrust. When Dean pulled one of Sin's favorite tricks and began humming, Sam's eyes practically rolled back in his head and he moaned Dean's name as he began thrusting faster and harder, the humming sending tremors of ecstasy through his body.

"Oh, gods Dean," Sam moaned as he pistoned faster and faster. Dean had apparently been paying a lot attention to how Sin had pleasured him, how Sam had pleasured him, as his hand stayed on Sam's cock, sliding up and down with Dean's mouth, giving little twists and added pressure every time Sam thrust. He felt his balls draw up almost unexpectedly and he came hard down his lover's throat, and Dean took it, drinking it all and sucking every bit he could out of him.

Panting, Sam lay there. "That was a blow job," he gasped between breaths, "worthy of Sin."

"Fast learner," Dean managed to say once he'd pulled back and was licking his lips clean. The sounds Sam had made, the way he'd thrashed, it had Dean rock hard and hurting. Looking down at him now, all he wanted was to be inside him, fucking him, part of him. "Don't move," he said unsteadily, squeezing Sam's thighs as he straightened.

He'd never moved so fast and he wasn't sure that Sam was even aware he'd left. He caught the cap of the tube of lube between his teeth, tugged, then spit the cap onto the table next to the tube. His shorts were next to go, and when he straightened, he had to take his cock in his fist... needed the pressure. Watching Sam, the rise and fall of his chest, the pink tongue that came out to wet his lips, he started to stroke faster. He wanted to go on, to get off right here, right now.

With a pained groan, he released his cock and pulled Sam closer to the edge of the table. His hands shook as he started to prepare him, to open him up. He tried to concentrate, to make himself go through the steps, to stop thinking of pushing his dick where his fingers were. "Fuck..."

Sam knew Dean had left and wasn't sure why, until he saw the lid of the lube on the table. He could hear the desperation in every labored breath Dean made. Sam was so long accustomed to there not being any lube half the time, he hadn't really thought about it. He only used lube on Dean because Dean was rarely breeched and needed it. Still, having his lover lube his cock would make it easier and more comfortable for them both. Since Dean had used Sin's tricks on his blow job, Sam grinned evilly. He was going to make the man chase his release.

Feeling Dean's trembling fingers at his hole, feeling the lube around it, touched Sam. Dean was holding back for him, making sure his needs were met even when it was so apparent he needed to be inside Sam right the hell now. Dean pushed the lube in and Sam immediately relaxed that tight ring of muscle even as Dean made the effort to prepare him.

He smiled at Dean, "Lover, I don't need stretched, the lube is enough. Take me like you want. Take me now."

Dean's eyes flicked up to Sam's. Another harsh breath left him, then he nodded. "Not arguing." Swallowing, he spread a little lube over his cock and guided his wet throbbing head between Sam's cheeks. "Let me know. If it's too much." With lust riding him like a bitch, he was sure only Sam could stop him, that he himself might not be thinking straight.

He started to push inside, slowly but steadily, biting his lower lip as he was slowly engulfed inside Sam's heat. Once he got past the tight ring of muscle, he gave a sound of relief, thrusting hard until his hips were flush against Sam's ass. "Fuck..." Sam felt so tight, sofuckinggoodaround his cock.

He crawled up Sam's body, every muscle in his own tense, barely holding back the instinct to thrust his hips. "Put your legs..." before he finished, Sam had locked his ankles behind Dean's back. He had to be a masochist, because Dean slanted his mouth over Sam's and kissed him, slowly, thoroughly before putting his hands flat on either side of Sam on the table and letting loose all the needs that had been building.

His thrusts were hard, punctuated by his deep grunts each time he clenched his ass and was buried to the hilt inside Sam. His movements were slow and deliberate but there was an edge of frenzy to them, like he was on the cusp of losing control. Sam's reactions told Dean he was hitting his lover's prostate and the slide of Sam's hardening flesh against Dean's belly was proof Sam was getting aroused again. So good, they were so fucking good together. He was about to lean in and kiss Sam when his lover started to clench tight around him and ground against him in that circular motion he knew drove Dean nuts. It wasn't necessary now... now when Dean was already almost insane with need and all it was doing was making him want to pin Sam down and fuck him until they were both raw. "Sam for the love of..."

Sam grinned, his dimples clearly showing, the look on Dean's face the most beautiful cross of agony and ecstasy he had ever seen. The sheer need he saw in those jade eyes made his breath hitch. As Dean began to pump faster, Sam gave him perfect counter pressure, clenching as Dean pushed in, releasing as his lover pulled out. The thrusts grew harder, more desperate and Sam did everything he could to make sure it was utterly perfect for Dean. When Dean took hold of Sam's cock at the same time as he pushed in and hit that bundle of nerves, Sam jerked as the sudden combined sensations washed over him and cried out. Followed with Dean's hot kiss on his lips, he did something Sin had never done. He lost rhythm and control.

He succumbed to Dean who was no longer thwarted by Sam's teasing clenching, and was able to do as he wanted. Sam's cries grew in volume every time Dean thrust into him, using his locked ankles to pull Dean in deeper.

"Oh God... oh God baby, oh fuck..." Dean pistoned into Sam with each powerful thrust, his already out of control lust inflamed by Sam's uninhibited sounds of pleasure. "So good, so good between us... so good," he chanted, gaze locked onto Sam's heavy lidded eyes. Consumed by his need for Sam, he fucked harder, faster, at a feverish pace until he wasn't sure the words falling from his lips made sense anymore. The pressure inside him sharpened, then peaked. He arched back just as Sam tightened his legs and dragged him close. "Sam!" he shouted as he exploded with blinding force, deep inside his lover. Groaning, he squeezed Sam's cock, and lowered his body over him, kissing him and still fucking, grinding his stomach against Sam's cock, silently demanding he come.

Sam had had good sex before but this went beyond anything he could remember and knew it had everything to do with Dean. He bared his soul and absorbed everything, every little motion, every little gasp Dean made. Sam stared at his handsome, beautiful lover as Dean came and felt the heat fill him as he heard the most wonderful thing in the world, Dean screaming his name.

When Dean squeezed him, he groaned, his cock heavy with need again. Devouring Dean's mouth, he wrapped his arms around his lover, pushing back against the thrusts, arching and clenching, and feeling the way Dean put pressure against his needy member. He began to fuck faster against Dean's stomach, moaning into Dean's mouth as his cock grew harder and thicker. Thrusting against the tight planes of Dean's abdomen was sweet torture as he grew closer and closer to release. Every muscle in him suddenly clenched and he arched up even as he pulled Dean down closer to him, and his ankles pulled Dean deeper inside him. He threw back his head and Dean's name all but echoed in the room as he came so hard his balls hurt.

"Dean," Sam moaned, looking into the eyes of his lover as he rode out the orgasmic waves shaking him. "No one...but you...ungh...Ever," he panted as he continued to shudder with pleasure.

"Ever," Dean echoed, watching in wonder as Sam came apart. He wanted this, them, together for always. The sex was great, but it wasn't the sex. It was that soft look that Sam got in his eyes when he looked at him, it was the way he made him feel like he was the center of the universe, important. Like he counted. It was the same way for Dean. Sam had quickly become the center of his own universe. He wasn't a patient man. He didn't like dealing with other peoples' problems. But here he had been doing just that, patiently helping, dealing with Sam's problems. Helping him, and though it had its ups and downs, it never felt like a burden. It just felt... right. "For better or for worse," he whispered hoarsely, lowering his mouth to kiss Sam.

It was a soft, lingering kiss until Sam put his arms around him. Feeling Sam's fingers bite into his shoulders, he deepened the kiss, tasting him, loving him. When he ran out of breath, he reluctantly got up, pulling gently out of his lover and offering him his hand. "Quick shower, then I'm making you mine all over again," he promised. "All night long, Sam. All night."

Dean's whispered words made Sam's breath catch in his chest. Forever. The two of them together forever. He kissed Dean back with all the love in his heart. He didn't want to let Dean get up, to pull out, he wanted this precious moment to last. He took Dean's hand and smiled at Dean's promise as they walked together toward the shower.

* * *

They'd made love so many times, Dean had lost count. He woke to the soft beeping of the transmitter and reaching for it on the nightstand, he read the text message. Emergency meeting. Great. Rolling back toward Sam, he curled around his body again and kissed his neck. After the night they'd shared, he felt like he should say something, but the lack of a response from Sam told him that the guy was in a deep sleep. There was no reason to wake him only to leave, so after allowing himself the luxury of another moment of closeness, he eased out of bed and quietly showered, dressed and left after propping a note up for Sam, letting him know he'd been ordered to duty.

*

The meeting hadn't taken long. The information Sam had provided was discussed and the strategists had provided their own conclusions about where the fleet was being sheparded to and the potential sites of a major ambush. Dean was glad to see that his own recommendations that a surprise counter-attack should be considered because the colonials had become predictably defense oriented was starting to gain some favor. As far as he was concerned, it was about time.

Those who were on his shift had grabbed some breakfast together in the mess hall as they discussed the new developments. Time got away from Dean who was finishing up his third cup of coffee when his second, Michael came in and reminded him he had recruit interviews scheduled. "We'd better grab the talent before Blue Squadron," he said, nodding and heading out for his office.

These were all interviews of people who'd formerly held warrior positions or who at least had some training. If grabbed by blue, red or silver spars squadron, those who were already in training and the ones who weren't would be placed into an accelerated intensive training program to get them up to speed. One day, he hoped Sam would be the person he interviewed, though he'd have to bow out of taking him on because of his relationship. He was internally cursing about the probability that Sam would end up in red squadron when his third applicant knocked and walked in after the door hissed open.

Looking up, Dean nodded at the next applicant to take a seat. Formal greetings were exchanged and he was quite impressed by the fact that the woman didn't appear at all nervous. Her historical records were impeccable, but it had been his experience that most ex-warriors seeking to rejoin were worried about one thing or another. Whether they were being judged for taking time off from defending the fleet at a time when there was a critical shortage of experienced warriors, whether they were so out of practice they wouldn't be able to compete, whether they could take orders from younger officers, and other similar issues often plagued them. But this tall blonde didn't only look comfortable, but genuinely friendly in the way she smiled at him.

He asked a few rapid fire questions, while scrolling down the information on his electro pad, then he stopped. "You served under my father."

"Yes. It was an honor to serve under Commander John."

"I'm surprised he didn't come after you to join earlier," Dean said, leaning back.

"Oh, he did. I'd left a long time ago. Before the Final Destruction." At his sharp gaze, she added. "For personal reasons."

He rubbed his chin. "Personal reasons that could impact performance?"

"No, not at all."

"And yet you didn't answer the sign up calls immediately after the Final Destruction. What... ah... what's changed? Dean hadn't seen any indication in the file that the applicant was impacted by medical issues. "Children grew up? Something like that?" he prodded.

"No, Captain. I quit when I lost my fiancé to the Cylons, he was a warrior--"

"Final Dest--"

"No, before that. I couldn't take being around warriors, and now he's back. You brought him back, and for that I owe you a great debt of gratitude."

Trish. Trishan. He looked up and met her eyes. Once again, she was smiling at him. There was joy in her smile, even perhaps recognition. He might not remember having met her, but it was very likely that as a child he had. Now he looked her over more closely. She was pretty, in a classical way. Her golden hair was pulled back neatly, but when she moved, he could see the long curls falling down her back. A weight pressed on his chest, but he ignored it. Of course she'd be happy. There was a fleet full of people who were happy. Besides, she was married, her file told him that. "Sam," he gave a nod. "Now that you know he's alive, I take it you feel being around warriors will no longer bother you."

"Oh yes, I'm sure of it. Thank you, Captain, for bringing him home."

His back stiffened slightly. "Couldn't leave one of ours behind. So... his return, that's why you're interested in rejoining, so you can be on the same ship as--"

"Partly, yes." She colored. "I've already found quarters on board."

"Huh. I wasn't aware family quarters were avail--"

"I've left my husband. I hope for the opportunity to prove myself, and then my higher pay grade will help me relocate one last time, with my children, to a ship closer to the Galactica. In the meantime, I have the convenience of being on board for training and sims, and it makes it easier to see Sam."

It was like kick to the gut. Dean immediately hooded his eyes, looking down at her records. The records hadn't been updated to indicate her quarters were on board the Galactica, they showed she was on the Kalendria. "I see."

"Sir, I have every reason in the world to dedicate myself, to reclaim my career."

As she did what was probably a spectacular job of talking herself up, making arguments that should sway him into wanting to claim her for red squadron, her words were completely lost on him. That night that Sam was assaulted, he'd been with her. Since then, he'd been with her. Maybe that was why he had those jealous tantrums, why he flipped around and said he could find someplace else to stay some nights. Various scenarios went through his head, including for how the two had gotten back into contact. He was trying, trying hard to think of a single reason that Sam hadn't mentioned hooking up with her again. There was only one.

He looked back up at her and only then noticed she'd stopped talking and was looking askance at him. He set the electronic pad down. "We're done."

She looked taken aback by his frosty tone. "Captain, did I say something wrong? Is there anything I can clarify? I ..." The silence was deafening. Giving him a nod, she stood up and left the room.

The instant the door shut, Dean threw the electronic pad at the door, cursing himself for his stupidity. Sam wasn't Sin. He was a capable liar, a man who was capable of weighing his options and choosing to play all of them, a bastard.

Betrayal tasted the most bitter when it came from those you trusted the most.

* * *

It hadn't taken too many inquiries for Dean to find out his father was on the Galactica in one of the officer lounges waiting to be called up when it was his squad's turn to take patrol. Dean strode through the long corridors hardly looking at anyone or anything. A part of him was so numb, he could honestly claim he didn't give a frack about it. Any of it. But another part of him was burning with fury. He didn't take well to betrayal, not by either of the two men who'd been so important in his life.

The instant he walked into the lounge, his eyes latched onto his father who was having a glass of water and talking to someone. "You sonovabitch," he snarled, talking to his father in a way he hadn't in yahrens.

The few other people in the lounge looked at him, one of them getting up and walking towards him.

"Get. All of you, get the fuck out!" Dean shouted, his gaze never leaving the older man's.

John hadn't even seen Dean enter the lounge and Dean's curse had his head swiveling. The furious visage of his son focused on him had him surprised. John stood up, leaving his water sitting on the table, watching as the other warriors made themselves scarce. He cocked an eyebrow at his boy.

"Been a long time since you used a tone like that with me," John said mildly, remembering the last time quite clearly, when John was subbing at the academy for an instructor and had called on Dean to answer and dressed him down in front of the class for not knowing the answer, finding out later that they hadn't yet taught that information. Even so, Dean should have been more on top of things as far as John was concerned. It had led to quite a fight between them. "So what did I do to piss in your grog?"

"In my grog." Dean gave a bitter laugh. "Try my life, you fuck. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you?" he demanded, knowing full well his dad knew what the hell he was talking about.

"Found out that Sam's fiancé is alive and on board did you? Left her husband and moved here just as soon Sam went to visit her. That should tell you something, Son. And all the lunches they've been having together." He glared at Dean and practically barked, "It's time to get your head on straight and let Sam have his own life, the one he wants not the one he's giving you out of gratitude for saving him!"

Just like that, Dean felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them get any farther. He raised his chin, working his jaw, trying to put into words the things he was feeling, being made to feel. Things that tore him apart. "This..." he swallowed. "This is your lesson. This is your fucking way of teaching me... this is your brand of loyalty? Well fuck you."

Two security personnel walked in and came to a sudden stop. "Captain Dean, we were told to come see you."

Dean didn't look at them but nodded. "Yeah. I want a detail to go to my quarters and get Samuel Wesson out of there. Everything he has, I want it cleared out within two centars."

"Where do we take his belong--"

"I don't give a fuck. Tell him he can stay at Trish's, or my at my father’s, since he engineered this. Right Dad?" He sniffed. "Just get him the hell out. No more questions," he snapped when the guy started to pose another.

As soon as they left, he spoke. "You got what you want. You got him what he really wants. And what do I get?" He gave a thin lipped smile that was his answer. "Happy now? I hope you choke on it. You and he both."

John stared at his son and saw the pain in those jade eyes. His boy had really...fallen...for Sam? He clenched his jaw. "Nothing to do with loyalty, Captain. You weren't the one who sat with Trishan for months after Sam died. You didn't watch her give up everything, get sealed to a man she didn't care for. Sam had a right to know. She had a right to know. If they're back together, isn't it better to know now than any further down the flight path? I'm sorry it hurt you Dean, but Sam had a life. If he wants it back then he should be given that chance to take it back." John was sorry his son was hurt over this, but he wasn't at all sorry that Sam and his son would no longer be together. It just...it just wasn't right that his best friend and his son were lovers. Dean would find someone else and get over Sam soon enough, he was certain.

"You're not sorry. You should be, but you're not," Dean answered tightly, his throat closing up on him. "You're right about one thing. This isn't about loyalty. It's not about doing the right thing, either. This is about 'payback.' I couldn't save mom... I messed up and you, you can't let that go. So this is you, returning the favor." He laughed, and wiped his face, feeling the wetness that told him he'd been unsuccessful in holding back his tears. "Congratulations. Hope it keeps you warm at night, I know nothing else does it for you," he added venomously, turning on his heels and walking out.

He had a feeling his dad would come after him, but he never found out. His sigmawave transmitter went off, ordering his presence on command deck and no one, and nothing, took precedence over that.

Chapter Text

Sam stared dumbly at the security guards when they told him their orders.

"He...he wants me gone?" Sam finally asked. "Where...where am I supposed to...?"

"He said he didn't care," one of the guards told him, "but we are to take your things wherever you want. He suggested 'Trish' or 'Commander John.'"

Trish

Sam felt his knees go weak. He hadn't had a chance to tell Dean about Trishan. He'd tried last night when everything had been so...beautiful...between them. Then Dean had left this morning and somehow managed not to wake him.

"O-okay. Just...just wait outside. I'll...I'll get my things," he said, the tears beginning to slide down his cheeks.

"Sir, we need to..."

Sam's eyes grew hard, even as the tears slipped from them. "I do not need help collecting my things. You can wait if you want but you're waiting outside," Sam snapped. "I'll be out in under a half centar and I don't need your help carrying anything."

He slapped the control shutting the door and then locked it. Staggering into the bedroom, he collapsed on Dean's bed, the place he had awakened that morning, comfortable and safe in the knowledge the man he loved wanted him always. The sobs suddenly ripped from his throat as he shook, feeling his mending soul shatter. Dean didn't even give him a chance to explain....

Shadow hopped up onto the bed and pawed at his leg with concern. Sam picked her up and held her as he sobbed more. She twisted in his arms and licked at his face and tears. It took him another ten centons to finally stop his wails and sobs of pain.

He finally pushed himself to his feet and set Shadow down. "Gather all your toys, Shadow," he ordered her, his voice thick with emotion.

Going to the closet, he pulled out two large duffels and began placing his belongings inside. How had he ended up with so many things so quickly? Along with his clothes and shoes he put in all of Shadow's things, his wind chimes, and carefully wrapped his plant up and his bottle of ambrosa before putting them inside. Pulling his two pictures off the wall he wrapped them in a blanket and lashed them securely using a rope and created a shoulder strap with rope. He hesitated, then took the pillowcase from Dean's pillow and put a clean one on. Inhaling Dean's scent on the pillowcase, he almost began crying again. He gathered his things from the bathroom then put a few bottles of water and some snacks down in the overstuffed duffels along with his few remaining belongings not yet packed. He took the time to arrange the quarters as if he had never been there. Folding up the cot, he placed it against the wall, the weights and pull-up bar beside it. Pausing at the computer he wrote Dean a brief email.

Dean,

I tried to tell you about Trishan last night. I'd gone to see her to say goodbye. I didn't expect her to come to the Galactica. I know I shouldn't have, but I've been having lunch with her. Only lunch. I swear. I would never cheat on you, ever. I love you.

I told her I was in a relationship but I think she was still hopeful. I care about her, but it's the memory of her that I love. She isn't who I want to be with. You will always be my universe, my everything. I'm sorry I wasn't upfront with you from the beginning. I will always care deeper for you than anyone. I will always love you Dean Winchester. Thank you for everything. I hope you find what you need and are happy. I'm sorry.

Forever yours,

Sam

He sent the email but suspected Dean would never read it. He would probably see it was from Sam and simply delete it.

After a moment he sent two more emails. One to Trishan, canceling lunch and telling her he had to stop seeing her, it wasn't fair to her, and that he was not going to get back together with her. The second was to Michael. It simply said, "You were right."

After shouldering his two duffels he picked up the two pictures. "Onto my shoulder, Shadow. We have to find someplace else to live."

After a questioning meow, Shadow jumped from the floor to the duffel then up to his shoulder where she settled down so she wouldn't easily be dislodged.

One final time Sam glanced around the place Dean had promised was his home, then turned and walked out the door. Security moved to help him with his things.

"Get the frack away from me," Sam growled at them and headed briskly down the hall and away from the only happiness he had found.

* * *

Three days had passed. Seventy-two centars of sheer hell for John. His son's bitter parting words washed over him again and again.

His son thought him a monster and he hadn't even tried to correct the impression. He'd expected Dean to see the truth, to get past his feelings and realize his actions had been taken in the best interests of everyone involved. In retrospect, he hadn't really said that. He'd made it sound like he'd done it for Trishan, he'd gone on about how broken she'd been. And he'd said it was for Sam, to give the man a chance to get his life back. Why... why hadn't he said it was for Dean too? Why did he have trouble articulating how much he cared for his own boy?

He had a host of things he regretted in life. But this... this he might take to his grave with him if his son didn't return. No dammit, Dean was going to return, even if he had to steal a damned shuttle and go get his ass himself.

There had been many meetings. Squads were spread out through space, listening... listening for distress calls or radio chatter about a possible captive. The colonial warriors should be celebrating. They'd gotten their hands on the Cylon fuel stations, taken everything and left a pile of ash. But had the Cylon's taken something of his? His son? He couldn't bring himself to believe that Dean had been shot down or captured, but as the days passed, the possibility grew more and more likely.

From the blue squad, Starbuck and Apollo were taking the lead in looking for traces. John liked those men because they were upbeat and positive that Dean hadn't bitten it. Those two had themselves been almost given up on so many times, and made so many come backs, they were living proof that John had good reason to cling to hope. And so was Sam, though John wasn't sure he'd want his son to go through what his friend had gone through just to come out of it alive.

When he'd stopped at Trish's to find Sam and learned Sam wasn't with her, hadn't really ever been, he'd seen hurt and accusation in her eyes. By now she had to know that his son had a thing going with Sam and that he'd withheld that information from her. And yet, she didn't yell at him, or hurl bitter words. Maybe it was because she knew his son was missing and that he was a beaten man. His face was drawn and pale. There were dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep, and despite orders, he spent more time in one of the command offices awaiting word than anywhere else. But there was steely hard determination there as well, whether she saw it or not.

A few centars later, he'd climbed past all the engine noise and was in the Hand of God, slamming the heavy hatch down to stop the grating sounds from below. Stepping around some equipment, he saw Sam exactly where he'd expected, sitting in a chair and looking out at the stars. He had a robopet on his shoulder and was stroking its back.

John cleared his throat, expecting Sam's attention. When he didn't get it, he walked closer and noticed the man's unblinking stare. "Sam. Sam," he raised his voice and shook the guy's shoulder.

Sam had let his mind drift into silence. Since Dean had thrown him out, he had mostly been in the Hand of God. He'd showered the day before at one of the gyms, and his meals were pretty much liquid of the alcoholic variety. He had hoped Dean might come search him out after a day or so, but that didn't happen. Obviously he had been right and Dean hadn't even read his email. He figured if Mike even tried to bring Sam up, his former lover would shut him down immediately.

Eventually he would probably request quarters on another ship. Maybe...maybe he would try to get on the agro ship even if it would remind him of Dean. That was probably a bad idea though. He didn't really know what he was going to do and at the moment, didn't care. So he retreated into his silent mode, stroking the purring kitten absently, just watching the stars.

It wasn't until his shoulder was shaken that he snapped out of it. His heart leapt. Dean had come! Dean had finally come to save him again, to hopefully forgive him. He looked up, his eyes and face bright with hope and love, and ready to throw his arms around the man he longed for.

And then he saw it was John.

His eyes immediately veiled over and the smile vanished from his face. He stood up and stepped away from John. Lifting Shadow from his shoulder, he set her down, figuring he and John might well end up trading punches again. Though at this point, John could say anything to him and he doubted he'd care. He gave John a once over.

"You look like shit," Sam said flatly.

John gave him a hard look. "I need you." He took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me. We need more details about the time period right after your capture, even if it means you need to go through regression therapy."

Sam knew immediately what John was implying, that a warrior had been captured. "I don't need regression therapy. It's pretty much seared into my brain."

He looked away from John for a centon. He dreaded the thought of talking about that time. He had barely even touched on it in his therapy and his doctor hadn't pushed him on it, though she did try to get little bits out of him now and again. Licking his lips, he finally sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

"Fine. But I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for whoever was captured, and that pilot's friends and family." It hurt that Dean wouldn't even come ask this himself, or at least send Mike. To send John? That was practically spiteful of Dean, not that Sam figured he didn't deserve it. Of course that went right along with sending security to throw him out of their quarters. It only confirmed to Sam just how pissed Dean was at him still.

John's jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod. He'd assumed Sam knew and was holed up hiding from the truth and life. "Do it for whatever reason you want, just do it. You ready?" he asked gruffly, already stepping toward the hatch.

Sam waved him on. He turned and looked at Shadow. "I may be gone a while little one. Don't worry, okay? Play and sleep."

He saw John's look and his eyes narrowed. "If I'm gone too long, she worries. With enough concern the pets are able to send out medical alerts. Or she'll rip her way through to the ventilation shaft and come hunting for me. It's nice to at least have something that still gives a shit about me, even if it's just a little robotic cat. So lead on to wherever the hell we're going."

"Your memory is flawed. Every time I tried to tell you I gave a shit, you knocked me flat on my ass. You want to wallow in pity, do it later." A muscle pulsed in John's jaw. Impatiently, he pulled the hatch open and started climbing down the ladder, a grimace crossing his features as he was barraged by engine noise and wind.

He dropped down, barely waiting for Sam, then headed down the corridor. As they walked at a fast pace, he spoke into his transmitter advising Sam was on his way and would provide the details they needed. John wasn't sure he wanted to hear them, but he had to. There was nothing but silence between them, until they reached the command conference room. He stopped at the door. "I'm sorry. For putting you through this." A bitter smile formed as he realized how much easier he found it to apologize and be sincere about it to everyone but his own son.

John's apology surprised him. He had had many talks with his therapist about John. "Look, John...I know you gave a shit, and I know you probably did everything you could. When I lost hope you would get me out," he shrugged, "that's when I finally gave in. So I've blamed you for my failure because I had to blame someone, hate someone, just to keep from going crazy. I used that hate to counter the desperation I felt. I'm not over it, but I'm working through it. For what it's worth, that hate kept me alive because I wanted to look in your face just to tell you how much I hated you. After I beat the crap out of you." After a moment of hesitation, he laid his hand on John's shoulder. "It was just a survival tactic the doc says. If I try, she thinks I'll be able to get past it, part of the whole healing process or some felgercarb. Patience wasn't ever your forte, but you're gonna have to be patient with me. It may be awhile, okay?"

"Yeah." John slapped Sam's back. "If it helped you fight them, then I'm all for it. Maybe it'll help someone else."

Sam inhaled a deep breath. "Okay, so I'm not thrilled you're putting me through this either. Just out of curiosity, who was captured? Not that I probably know them."

"Dean." John hit the pad with his hand and walked through the doors that slid open.

Sam stared at John as he walked through the door, stunned. Dean? He was...? Sam felt his stomach clench, imagining Dean going through the hell he had endured. He stood outside the door, his hand on the frame, trying to keep his legs from just giving out on him. He felt the anger blossom inside him and strode after John, spinning John to face him, ignoring the others in the room.

"How long has he been gone?" Sam demanded. "And why the frack did you wait until now to tell me you sonuvabitch?"

"You didn't ask," John answered calmly. "And you said you wouldn't do it for me. Now stop wasting time, take a seat over there. A time line of events will be shown on the screen." The question was still there, in Sam's eyes. "Three days ago. Yes, that day," he confirmed the further silent inquiry.

Sam punched John so hard he wasn't sure he didn't break something in his own hand. He turned from John and went to the chair the man had indicated. His eyes filled with fury, he looked at the others in the room. "Put the fracking timeline up already and let's get on with this."

He listened to the timeline, locking all his emotions away and forcing himself to forget the fact that Dean might never learn that Sam hadn't betrayed him, might die hating him for something that never happened. Might die believing Sam didn't love him.

After watching the timeline Sam said evenly, "Two possible outcomes. Either he died when the fuel depot was taken out or if he was captured, they transported him to a basestar. Right now they need intel. You've been off their scanners a long time. They sold me to Thiros only when I was too outdated to help them. Tactics had changed drastically because there was no longer a home base for you. Warriors of lesser rank, Cylons tend to interrogate then after they get what they want, they kill. Captains are another matter and definitely would be in this case. He knows all the current tactics and new fleet thinking. They'll probably keep him alive for a long while. That being the case, they'll move him to a basestar that's not on the front lines. They've got something along the lines of twelve in the general area, well spread out. It'll take time to get Dean moved far enough back to suit them. For now, he'll be taken to the second line of defense. Best guess is you've got two basestars hunting you. I gave Dean information about them herding you toward an area where you're vulnerable to an ambush. I'm assuming he passed that along. The big question is how far away their second line of defense is. If it's far enough away, he'll have to be taken to one of those two basestars hounding you and I guarantee he won't be on the one that's had the most interaction with you. That second basestar is where he'll be found."

Sam paused and began to recount everything that had happened to him those first days of his capture. The cold cell, the mind scanners that got inside his head and writhed through his brain, making him scream in agony. The lack of food and water to weaken him. The shackles, the plasticord bindings. The Cylons understood the frailties of the human body and were reluctant to physically damage a Human. He had fought, he had tried to run and ended up with a broken arm at one point and a concussion another time. They had set his arm immediately, having apparently learned the danger of infection, and had sheathed it in a flexible plastic, a plastic too flexible to be useful as a weapon, even against himself. The concussion had earned him a day off from the torture but that was about it. He reported everything he had endured until he finally succumbed to the torture. At that point they hardly left him alone, demanding answer after answer which he gave.

"I didn't realize they weren't going to kill me until they moved me to another basestar and gave me a slightly more comfortable cell and regular feedings. I was moved three more times before they put me in cryo for the first time. I can direct you to where the temporary and permanent cells are located on a basestar."

There was absolute silence in the room. John's face was a mask, hard and expressionless as he mulled over the things Sam told them. His voice was very low but edged with steel when he looked at Adama and spoke. "I'll head a small strike team."

Adama exchanged glances with Colonel Tigh, then looked back. "It's out of the question. With two basestars after us, our first priority is to get everyone--"

"You get everyone out, I'll get Dean--"

"Commander, I realize he is your son."

"It's not about my son, dammit," John stood up, dark eyes lighting up with fury. "We don't leave people behind and that includes Captain Dean, whether he's my son or not."

"I'm sorry--"

"Commander," Sam interrupted, standing up. "Captain Dean knows far too much about fleet tactics, the mentality of the fleet, and strategies. When he gives up his information and believe me, he will, it could be crippling to the fleet."

Adama grew silent a moment and gave a curt nod. "We are aware of that but thank you for your input."

John advanced on the leaders, and the others in the room, including Sam, were ushered out of the conference room though they could hear the raised voices arguing. John was coming up with plan after plan involving leaving only a small team behind while the fleet moved on, and counterarguments were being raised just as quickly.

* * *

Sam knew what the answer would be. Dean would be left behind and Sam could not accept that. The horrors that he went through, no way in the Twelve Colonies was he going to let Dean go through that too. He'd destroy the basestar if he had to, and himself along with it.

That meant he was going to have face the one thing he hadn't wanted to. He was going to have to get back in a viper. He gave a small smile. Dean had wanted him back in one. He would be pleased Sam face this fear.

After breaking into the sim room and confirming it would be free for a couple centars, he quickly programmed in the sim he wanted to run. He would need to run with a two man viper. They had more mass, more fuel would be needed, but they also had a bit more kick in weapons. The mass impacted maneuverability, some turns would be a little harder, higher gees, but there just wasn't any other choice as he'd be bringing back a passenger.

Sam broke into the lockers and got into a g-suit, then, almost reluctantly, a uniform. He paused before climbing into the sim cockpit. He was really going to do this. For Dean, he reminded himself. Taking a deep breath he climbed in, pulled on his helmet, and quickly oriented himself. They controls hadn't changed that much from the Mark I's, thankfully. He activated the program. It would put him through a serious of battles, then he would take on the basestar.

The first couple battles went poorly. Sam's reaction time was down, he kept having flashbacks to his own capture and minor panic attacks. Gods dammit it all. Suck it up Samuel, he yelled at himself. He was a fucking warrior. One of the best of his time. He was not going to let those sons of bitches win. Not now.

He restarted the sims, his face grim. No more fucking around. He'd have one chance to get this right and not much time to practice in advance. "One shot," he whispered, and 'launched' his simulated viper, immersing himself in the sim and forcing himself to accept it as real.

It was like magic. His body seemed to remember every move, every twist, every kick. All the maneuvers he'd planned but never got to execute before his capture, he tested. All the maneuvers he had devised while he was locked away in the Cylon cells, something to do to pass the time, he tried those too. Some worked, some didn't, but he felt like he was one with the ship and that was something he had missed so much, it filled a hole inside him like nothing else could.

Then came the basestar. It took him five times before he managed to slip in close enough and got his craft landed in one of the maintenance bays where there would be minimal Cylon presence. No presence if no ships were in for maintenance. He gave a shout of triumph. It could be done, dammit!

He popped the canopy to take a break. He'd do another run through, but that would probably be all he had time for before the sims would be put into use. He leapt down and stretched, grinning. It would work. He knew it would. Because it had to.

Leaning against the wall, Mike had been watching Sam for a long time. Watched him take a beating at first, not give up and then fly like the best of them. Hell, he wouldn't say it out loud but this guy might be as good as if not better than Dean. Captain Dean took some chances, but what he was watching here was cool, calculated moves. Just as dangerous, but they were well thought out, for as much thinking as one could do in split microns.

What the ex-warrior was doing became crystal clear to Mike when he chose the basestar program. At first he watched just to watch, but later, he was watching to learn. Sam had insights on battle star layouts, he could tell that by the maneuvers he chose to employ.

When Sam pulled himself out of the stretch, Michael called out, "Well done. It's good to know what there's something that can motivate you to become a warrior again," he said soberly. In better times, he might have clapped or arm-twisted Sam into agreeing to participate in some of the gambled-on competitions they had going. He searched Sam's face, "You're doing about as well as I thought you might be."

"I'm not leaving Dean there, I won't leave him to suffer what I did. And I heard the arguments. They aren't going to approve the mission to rescue him. So I'll do it. Not like they can court martial me. If the fleet's gone by the time I get him out," Sam shrugged, "I'll find him some place he can survive, maybe even be happy. There are plenty of places that need hot pilots."

"When we find him, please don't tell him that. He has a big head as it is." Some people had started to talk about Captain Dean in the past tense, but not his men. Mike walked to the simulator and input some code into the keyboard against its side. Various scenarios flashed on the screen in front of them, then a Cylon basestar came into view. "It's light years away and hot on our tails," he said, pointing. "John managed to have it synthesized for the simulator. It's different from the ones we've seen." He started going down the line of the features of the basestar. "We have to find its blind spot. They all have them."

Sam looked at the Cylon basestar and felt his blood ice. "That's the command basestar for this sector. If we were back in Colonial space, it would have Imperious Leader on it, the head of the Cylons. It's got two extra squadrons of raiders, more gun turrets, missiles, and more fortifications than most basestars. Finding the fleet is a major accomplishment and no doubt its commander is directing things up close and personal. And that is definitely where Dean would be taken." Sam studied the basestar, turning and shifting the holograph of it. He punched in codes and cones of color spread out from various locations on the ship.

"There," he finally said, a thin corridor with no overlapping colors showed. "That's its blind spot but Cylon raiders will be running constant patrols, so the trick will be to get past them without being spotted. I get in close enough and the scanners can't track me. From there, I can take this flight path to the maintenance bays. Those bays are the best bet in. I'll have to break the code to get the shield down to be able to land and I won't have a lot of time to do it, but I think I can manage. I know how they think, and I know their language." He paused. "Did you know that? That they have their own language? Shocked the frack out me." Sam called up internal plans for the basestar and filled in what he could that wasn't there and made some adjustments of what was there. "There are some areas I'll have to pass through that I don't know what's there, but I can reach the cells, I'm sure of it." He glanced at Michael. "Thanks, this helps."

Mike gave a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I didn't say it was for you, Sam. But if you want to give us some input and can keep a secret, then we'll take what information we can. Except you might want to leave for a while, John should be here soon." The hate between the two men was quickly becoming the stuff of legend. Sam had attacked John in public several times already.

With cool, hard eyes Sam's gaze met Mike's. "I'm going to get Dean. Plain and simple. If you are too, then I guess it would be a good idea for us to work together. The sooner John gets his ass here the better. John and I were a helluva team not so long ago. At least, not so long ago for me. Unless he gives me felgercarb, there won't be any trouble. Arguments, yeah, probably. We were always good for that when hammering out a plan."

Mike raised his hands. "Hey, I'm all for getting court marshalled with company just as long as you two can keep from killing each other and sabotaging the plan. This is too important for whatever the felgercarb's up between you." His transmitter gave a soft beep. Mike pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it. "It's John. He says I need to get out of here, about to have company. Quick, wipe the sim and let’s get out."

Sam quickly took a couple snapshots of the holo and sent them to himself. With a few more keystrokes he cleared the sim of the programs. He knew he didn't have time to change out of the stolen uniform and gee suit so he grabbed his clothes out of the locker and stuffed them into a duffel and hurried back out to Mike who had a distinctly worried look on his face. Sam smirked as he shoved him toward the door. "You can't tell me you're best friends with Dean and never pulled felgercarb like this at the academy. At least, I can't believe Dean didn't pull felgercarb like this at the academy."

They slipped out the door and headed down the hall. Sam felt self-conscious in the warrior uniform but at the same time...it felt so damned right. "Lead on. Where we headed to meet up with John?"

"Dean's," Mike answered without hesitation.

Sam's breath hitched at the news, but that was as much as he let show. Going back to Dean's quarters would be a knife in his heart but it was a secure place where they could plan that would have access to computers connected to information they might need. It was unlikely any inquiry from that computer would raise any eyebrows.

They walked at a quick pace, Mike hoping Sam wouldn't be recognized. Even if no one knew what they were up to, there would be questions... definitely questions if he was caught in uniform. "I should have been up there with him. There was no reason to keep me grounded, I told them that."

"Medics always were a pain in the ass about pilots being kept grounded longer than necessary," Sam agreed. "But it's not your fault Dean was captured."

"I would have gone after him." Really, that was all Mike had to say on that. There was no way he'd have obeyed the command to return to the battlestar before he knew, before he could confirm what happened to the captain. "Finding him now, as Dean would say, it's a fucking crapshoot." Letting out a frustrated breath, he gave Sam a sidelong look. "Your email was cryptic. Then I heard you had moved out. There wasn't any time to... I didn't know where you were." He hadn't ignored the message, but it had been overtaken by events.

Sam gave a strained, sad smile. "I didn't move out, Mike. He had security throw me out. He found out about Trishan. I've been living in the Hand of God since then. I was hoping...I'd sent him an email to explain. I was hoping he might...come find me, forgive me. I'd tried to tell him that evening after we left the bar but he wouldn't let me." He laughed softly because otherwise he would be crying. "We spent the night, all night, making love. Promised each other we'd be together forever." He swallowed hard, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. "We'll find him, Mike," Sam said thickly. "We have to."

"He sent security." Mike literally winced. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down as they waited for the lift which arrived moments later and they entered. It was empty. "He must have taken it harder than even I thought. I can't imagine him doing that. If he were thinking straight, he wouldn't have." Mike had seen firsthand how protective Dean was of Sam, of making him feel like he had a home, of being sure he never felt abandoned. Anger, that he could understand, but lashing out in the one way that was sure to make Sam feel abandoned, that could send him into a tailspin, that he didn't get. As the lift brought them down and the doors opened, the thing he didn't say was that if this had been the frame of mind Dean was in when he went on the mission, he might have done something rash.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. He had finally felt safe and he didn't immediately think security was there to arrest him. Dean knew how nervous security made him though. It was the cruelest tactic Dean could have chosen. "He wanted to hurt me the worst way he could." His words soft, he added, "And he succeeded."

Sam followed Mike down the hall to Dean's quarters and suddenly felt the tears spring into his eyes when he saw the door. It had been his home. He had felt loved and safe and happy, and he completely fracked it all up. Trying to hold onto a sliver of his past and what he had been, that had cost him his entire future. He froze, staring at the door, wishing this was just one of his terrible nightmares. When the door opened Dean would be there and Shadow would come shooting out of the bedroom scolding him. Dean would sweep him into his arms, tell him it was all okay, it was just a bad dream, and then would make love to him like he had on their last night together.

Michael used the keypad and typed in the code that had been given to him by Dean for emergency use. The door hissed open. Turning to rush Sam inside, he saw the anguish and tears in the other man's eyes. "We'll get him back, and then you'll fix this," he said. "I'll vouch for you. Come on, we just have to get over this stage."

Michael had to physically grab Sam's arm and pull to get him to move. Sam hurriedly wiped at his tears, choking back the sob in his chest. He nodded mutely.

John had the dining room table covered with various time tables and calculations, potential safe spots they could land at while awaiting retrieval or refueling if the fleet was so far gone that fuel to get home would be an issue. He had a stack of paper, transcriptions of space gibberish. Most of the transmissions were nothing, just empty talk from merchant ships, or echoes from space buoys, but among them there might be some Cylon code consisting of communications related to their chase and if John was lucky, about Dean. "Took you long enough," he said gruffly, looking up. He couldn't hide his surprise when Sam walked in alongside Mike. "What are you doing here?" It was a demand laced with hope.

Sam's pain-filled eyes met John's. His best friend. John had been his best friend and his best friend's son was missing. Never mind that that same son was the love of Sam's life now. Sam strode across the room, tears sliding down his cheeks. He pulled John into a tight hug. He felt John's initial tension, then that suddenly fell away and Sam felt tight arms around him. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, a cascade of memories crashing through his mind. The happy hug when John had gotten sealed. Of when Dean had been born. The hug of comfort when Sam had lost three pilots because of an ambush no one had seen coming and John's hug confirming Sam couldn't have done a damned thing to save them. All the happiest and sadness moments wrapped up into one split micron of time.

Sam wiped the fresh tears from his face and met John's eyes with hazel steel. "We'll get him back, John. Or die trying," Sam said with more confidence in him than he'd shown since his own rescue. He slapped John on the back. "Let me listen to the audios you've got. You and Mike sort out how the frack we're going to get them to let me launch either in a one or two man viper." His eyes scanned the maps John had laid out.

"This star system," he poked a finger at a thirteen world system, "is the Taundries. We can hide or get anything we need from them. They don't like the Cylons or any allies of the Cylons." He gave a grim smile. "They've even heard of the Colonial Warriors. They won't help for free, but they will help. They have a fascination of alien anything. They'll trade for plants, plant seeds, and even literature and videos."

John wiped a hand over his face. He was hardened and experience, but this was a lot for him to take in. Tragedy sometimes brought people who'd been at odds together, gave them some perspective. In this case, it gave Sam and him a reason to join against a common enemy. Naturally he was pleased that there was progress in terms of his very strained relationship with Sam, but the circumstances could not have been worse.

As Sam started to spew his ideas, a certain weight lifted from John's shoulders. He'd trained a lot of warriors and fought alongside many a brave man, but his first choice, when it came to rescuing his own son was and would always be Captain Samuel. "You let me take care of the ships and the funds or barter," John answered, the corners of his lips lifting slightly though his expression remained grim. "But I can't put you at the helm of one, you haven't--"

"I watched him run a sim. He's as good as any we have," Michael broke in. "He wiped out the scores but I saw him with my own yes."

John's dark gaze shifted to Mike. "I'll evaluate that when we go back to the sim room," he said. "We'll use the Taundries as a jump off point. We'll also need something to distract the Cylons with. I'm working on Adama..." he didn't have high hopes, but one couldn't tell unless they tried. "And if that doesn't work, we hide a signal jamming device near Alteron. They'll waste time trying to find it and will probably think an attack on the mineral planet is imminent. It will waste some of our time too, but be worth it."

"The command basestar--that's what we're dealing with--has extra squadrons on it. It would be useful to draw them out if we can. They hate mysteries. Ideally, we should put a signal jammer at Alteron, one out here near Caithos, and then a third out here in the oort cloud. In the oort cloud, we should drop some shadow ship devices and set off some explosives. When the Cylons get close enough to pick up the shadow ships on their scanners, have them shut down, just disappear. They'll be baffled and figure we're after one of the targets but not know why so they'll have to investigate all three. It will take extra time but the three of us can split up, drop off the devices and meet back up..." he studied the map, "here. There's a Taundry starport there. We can refuel and maybe even get a little intel." Looking at John he added, "If you could convince Adama to drop the jammers and shadow ships while we get to the starport, that would help. The next real trick will be getting onto the basestar undetected. You two could run a diversion and I could go in."

Sam called up his email and displayed the snap shots he'd taken of the model in the sim room. "Here's the blind spot for the basestar. But getting past the patrols is the issue. I get in close enough, ride the skin of basestar, and they won't detect me. What do you think?" he asked the other two warriors.

Mike rubbed the back of his neck as he mulled the ideas over. "If Adama agrees, it's workable. If not and he takes the fleet out as scheduled, leaving us to take care of both planting the jammers and getting to the basestar, chances are we won't have the fuel to catch up with the fleet." That was a risk either way. "Let's do it."

John nodded. "You'll need help down there. One person to help Dean out and another to cover." He was under no illusion that if his son was in the Cylon's clutches, that he would be in great physical or mental form. "I'm coming with you." He said it with finality, and there was no question he was pulling rank.

He grabbed a few papers and his computer pad. "I'm going to secure access to three vipers, legally or not." There was steely determination in his eyes and no fear of what the consequences would be to his career or otherwise. "This. It's what makes us human, this making of illogical choices to risk many to save one." His gaze rested on Sam for a centon. Lady fortune had to grant him a better result this time. The universes couldn't be playing such a grand joke on him, returning a friend and taking his son.

Rubbing his jaw, he walked toward the door and turned. "Sim exercises - I want your recordings sent to me, I won't be able to come see for myself." His gaze shifted to Michael. "We meet at the locker room in eight centars. Delay is our enemy, it will give them time to get him to an even more secure site."

John opened his mouth, closed it, then forced the words out as they had to be said. "Sam, somewhere in that time frame, you'll need to let Trishan know." He wasn't going to berate Sam, he'd meant what he told Dean, whether Dean believed it or not. The couple deserved their chance.

"Johnny, you remember how I told you Trish made me whole, how I loved her more than anything? That's the way I feel about Dean. I had no idea he was your son when I fell for him. Trish...I'll say goodbye face to face, but she isn't what--who--I want anymore. Too much has happened, too much has changed. I'll always love her, but even if Dean wants nothing more to do with me, I'm not getting back together with Trish. I appreciate you telling me about her, I appreciate that I got to see her and that I can close that open wound she has when it comes to me, but I've spent a lot of time with her and...I think even she knows it just wouldn't work anymore." A smirk pulled at Sam's lips then. "I'll get the sim recordings to you but, Johnny, I still kick ass better than anyone."

"I hope so, because you are out of practice." If that meant that Sam was a danger to himself or others in the way he handled the viper, John would not hesitate to force him to take second chair. It would mean one less viper and would hurt their chances, but ignoring truths and living on dreams of past glory would not help a mission. "Get some sleep in there sometime," he said gruffly, to both men, then turned on his heels and left. He hadn't responded to Samuel's comments about his feelings for his son and Trishan. He wasn't sure he believed them, but he'd clearly interfered enough. As it was, even if he brought Dean back, there was a chance he'd lost his son. The sheer hatred in Dean's eyes when he'd given his parting shot would stick with him for a long time.

* * * * *
Sam had returned to the Hand of God, retrieved Shadow and took her back to Dean's quarters because if things went badly, he didn't want her locked up there for who knew how long. At least in Dean's quarters someone would find her and give her a home. He grabbed a few centars sleep, trying hard to forget that Dean's quarters was no long their quarters and that he was an unwanted trespasser. He slept out on the couch because he couldn't bring himself to enter the bedroom.

After sleep and a meal, he met up with Mike and they slipped into the sim room in between training sessions. Sam had a little trouble initially, not knowing some of the newer maneuvers that Mike had been trained on. They quickly hit their stride though, getting the feel for each other and began to work as a team. Both Mike and Sam had to play a little catch up, Mike pulling out of his memory older maneuvers while Sam learned some of the newer ones and showed Mike a couple of the newest ones he had devised that seemed to work well during the last sim run. They only had a centar, but by the time they climbed from the cockpits both were satisfied with the results. They weren't a well-oiled machine by any means, but their teamwork and instincts was enough to bridge the knowledge gap between them.

On the way back to Dean's, Sam went and spoke with Trish. It was hard, voicing what they both knew. They weren't the same people who had professed their love to each other at Symphony Falls. Too much had changed. Years had changed Trish while the experiences Sam had endured had changed him, coupled with the disconnect of the loss of years. He kissed her goodbye. It should have been a deep passionate kiss but the passion just wasn't there. Only the taste of the past.

Once he got back to Dean's he uploaded the sim training for John to review, then checked his email, startled to discover a new email from Dean. Sam's breath caught in his chest. Had Dean...had he gotten home? Had he sent it from life center? He opened it, hope filling him, even if the email told him to fuck off, so long as Dean was home safe.

One look at the header and Sam saw Dean had written it a month ago and set the message on a delay send. He read the words, the love in them, the descriptions Dean gave of Sam, of Sin, of them. That Dean wasn't sure where they were headed, but that he was finding himself needing Sam as much as Sam needed him...that he loved Sam.

The letter was full of so much, telling Sam so many of the things that Dean kept locked and hidden away. The tears cascaded down his cheeks. He shut his eyes when the date of the email finally registered. It was the day he had gone to see Trishan, when he discovered she was alive. Dean had mentioned him being attacked, and almost raped, and how proud he was of Sam, but even that hadn't quite clicked. The utter irony of it all tore something between a sob and a laugh from Sam.

Half a dozen times he read and re-read the letter, his own little private torture session, but one that helped steel him for what was ahead. He had to rescue Dean. He had to get Dean back. In all senses of the word. He wanted his lover back. Finally he forced himself to his feet. He quickly showered, dressed in uniform, grabbed a light meal, and put together a small pack. Dean would need food and water badly by the time they got to him so he brought some energy bars and water pouches, a med kit, and some other electronic equipment they would need. Mike was handling the explosives, and John was of course dealing with the ships and money.

He gave Shadow a final ear scratching. "Time to go. I'll be back in a few days, maybe a week, but if I'm not, find yourself a good home, okay Little One?" Sam pulled a couple of Shadow's favorite toys from the pocket of his coat. "Behave yourself."

He straightened and looked down at the little kitten, her eyes big and sad, as if understanding this might be a final goodbye. Oh frack. He scooped up the kitten and hugged it, kissing it firmly on the head. Setting Shadow down, he strode quickly from the quarters to meet up with Mike and John.

* * *

There was nothing, just the sound of breathing. Heavy, gasping breaths echoing back at him. Dean forced his eyes open and all he could see was the white floor. Plasticords around his wrists, arms, ankles, thighs and waist, stretched to different points on the walls of the room, suspending him in the air, just a few feet off the ground. His legs were slightly higher than his head, so the blood in his body flowed to his head, making it that much heavier, like he was trying to hold up a Triad ball with just his neck.

Every part of him ached, but it was a good ache. Compared to what came before and would come again. His stomach heaved with his efforts to get more air. Oxygen levels were low and kept him confused. How long had he been here? Had he given anything away? No dammit... he wasn't gonna...

The buzz of electricity had his heart pumping. Lifting his head, he saw the line of bright white light advancing toward him and there was nothing he could do. Nothing.

Suddenly, his head and shoulders were engulfed in the scanner. Every nerve, every synapse in his brain, every cell touched by the light reported pain levels far above the human threshold. Dean stubbornly refused to shout for all of two and a half microns. Then he was arching up, eyes rolled back into his head as he screamed. This time it was his hoarse screams that echoed back at him, but he could barely hear them.

Another white light advanced, sweeping up his body from his feet up toward his bare chest. They were destroying his cells, layer by layer, from the inside out. If only. He knew it only felt that way, it was a trick they played on the human mind. But trick or not, Dean very quickly wished he were dead. He should have crashed his viper into them, or set it for self-destruction. Anything would be better than this.

Aaaaah... Aaaarghhh... His shouts grew exponentially as red lasers shot into his eyes. Dropping his head down didn't avoid them, they merely repositioned, drilling into him, drilling into his brain, seeking, searching for information. "Aaaarghh... no... nooooooooooooooo!!!

Sweat dripped from his chest into a puddle on the floor. Droplets of blood fell from his nostrils and mouth. He sobbed and thrashed, tried to get away, tried to close his mind to the images, familiar people telling him he should just give up, should let them have what they wanted, that he'd have peace then. His father's face didn't move him, he would never be that man's little warrior boy anymore. Then there was Sin, with his soft smiles, and his stretched out hand, inviting him to bed, telling him it would all be over. "LIAR!!!!" he shouted, seeing through Sin, seeing Sam. Just a man, not a hero, but a man who'd lied to him then, and was lying to him now. "No!"

*

Outside the cell, a flat metallic voice ordered, "Increase the energy levels. The information is needed now if it is to be useful."

"He may not survive such an increase." Silence was the tech's answer. He turned the dial and watched the image on the screen, watched red stress level indicators bleed from the prisoner's chest over his entire body.

Chapter Text

John only had himself for company because they'd just taken off from their jump-off point and were keeping radio silence. He wasn't one to be caught by surprise, but he had been today. Adama had come through for him. John had full approval to take three vipers, one of them a two-man viper, as well as an additional two viper escort. Blue squadron would perform a maneuver that when coupled with the signal jammers would trick the Cylons into believing a Colonial rescue mission was headed for the wrong basestar.

John already knew it had worked. They'd sat tight planetside until a large armada of Cylon raiders passed over them and headed to intercept. That would buy them only a short period of time to execute the mission. If they needed more, then they were already dead or lost to the Colonial Fleet because as soon as the Cylon vessels got anywhere near blue squadron, all human ships would be recalled, including the escorts flanking John, Mike and Sam.

Neither John nor the others knew what escape route the Battlestar Galactica and other ships were taking. This meant if they didn't make the planned rendezvous with the Galactica... then they might have to find new homes for themselves. Assuming they were successful and lived.

A huge, gray shape came into view. Staring at the Cylon basestar, John's gaze hardened. He was going to get his son out of there, at whatever cost. Dean wasn't going to die a prisoner or be turned into someone else as Sam had. He looked out the window and gestured to Sam, it was almost show time. Strange... so many yahrens had passed, but seeing Sam in the cockpit of the viper on his right, it felt natural, like no time had passed at all.

At his nod, Michael and the others picked up speed and shot ahead to scout and distract if necessary. John waited for Sam, then followed hard on his viper's trail, heading for the blind spot that Sam found and had practiced piloting along in the simulated runs. By the Lords of Kobol, let the information we have be accurate, let us make it. He didn't care about himself, but he wanted Dean out, and Sam.

Sam guided the viper down that narrow corridor that was only visible as guiding lines on his scanner. He took the viper down until he was mere meters from the surface of the basestar's metallic hull. Protuberances of various types jutted up in random directions on the gray landscape. He slipped his viper over and through the maze of objects until he finally slowed to almost a stop, keeping his viper hovering with small adjustments of thrusters as the basestar continued its slow crawl forward. He studied the maintenance bay that was their target. Although he knew John was probably getting impatient and antsy, he had to watch and see what activity might be going on. It was an auxiliary maintenance bay and he saw a couple raiders in for repair but after four full centons of watching, he saw no movement. Cylon techs could be inside the ships making repairs but there were no obvious techs exterior in the bay. He goosed his engine once to give John the signal they were going in and then punched in the sequence of code, transmitting it. The shield that kept the bay pressurized overloaded briefly, flickering off for a few microns, something that Sam hoped would only be noted as a power fluctuation. In those brief microns his viper, followed by John's, shot forward and into the bay.

Sam immediately popped the canopy and pulled off his helmet. The pressure in the bay was still re-equalizing and his ears popped painfully. After leaping to the ground, he pulled free his two blasters and headed for the closest Cylon raider. Checking inside, he found it empty. He came out to see John giving him a nod. The other raider was empty as well. Sam heaved a sigh of relief.

He pulled up the map on his hand held scanner, double checking the path. "I'll put in the codes that should keep anyone out of the bay while you head up the corridor. Trust your ears before trusting the movement scanners. Unless technology has gotten a helluva lot better, there's so much electronic noise, the movement scanners are going to be iffy. Remember, watch for those damned red sensors along the upper walls. Would suck to trip an alarm."

John glanced at the electronic panel, nodded and headed out. He carefully looked out into the corridor before stepping out, one blaster in his hand, the other holstered on his thigh. He moved quickly, his eyes scanning ahead as well as the walls and the floor. The thrumming of electrical impulses and machinery rivaled that near the Hand of God.

Seeing some of the red lasers, he watched as they moved. Learning their pattern of movement, he then stepped over them. When he reached a larger corridor, he flicked his wrist up. A blue light on the small schematic flashed to the left, so he took that route. The sound of metal boots striking the ground had him suddenly looking for cover. He tried a door, then found another one that was open. Ducking inside, heart ramming against his chest, he watched as four Cylons robotically marched past. His hand tightened around his blaster. He counted to three and was back in the hallway, moving more quickly to where the interrogation chambers were likely to be.

Sam worked on the door mechanism, listening intently to make certain he was not caught unaware. He finally got it set. If the Cylons did try to get in, they'd have to work at it and it ought to be low priority for them right now.

Striding quickly down the corridor, his gaze darted about, watching for the scanners. He had made the occasional attempt to escape and the damned sensors had nailed him. Admittedly, clear thinking was not readily within his capacity at the time, nor had he the luxury to study and watch the pattern. Like John, he waited and watched, then slipped past the alarms. The Cylons weren't terribly paranoid, if you could attribute paranoia to a machine. The sensors were only periodic as they didn't expect unknown beings to get onto their ship. Around the cells, that was another matter.

He paused at a corner and heard the fading cadence of Cylon boots. Closing his eyes, he felt a shudder of fear pass through him. That sound haunted his nightmares. He broke out in a cold sweat and all he wanted to do was turn around and get the hell off this basestar as fast as he could. Memories of the times he tried assaulted him and for the briefest of microns he wasn't certain if this was real or a dream. He looked down at the blaster in the grip of his hand. He'd dreamed that plenty of times too. Then he saw it. A hair, a black and white mottled short piece of hair on his sleeve. No, not hair. Fur. Shadow's fur. He took a deep breath. This was real. They were here to rescue Dean and they would, dammit. They would.

Peeking cautiously down the corridor, he saw John. Sam gave a soft double click with his tongue to let John know his was there. While they ought to be able to talk quietly without giving themselves away, there was no sense making more noise than necessary. After he caught up, they passed through another handful of corridors and descended some maintenance ladders since lifts were too damned risky.

Grabbing John's arm suddenly to stop him he shook his head. No, he had it wrong. He'd recreated this section of the schematic wrong. He studied the halls, reading the Cylon runes on the wall. He pointed down a hall. John gave him a hard look. Sam nodded and again pointed down the hall.

While a look of displeasure crossed John's features, he wasn't completely oblivious to how this must be affecting Sam. He gave a nod and squeezed the man's forearm. No other words could or needed to be exchanged.

The two men moved fast, retracing their steps then turning around a corner. There was an entire wall that was lit up with various panels. He exchanged looks with Sam and instantly they were at the controls flipping switches and running codes. They might not have the time to do anything sophisticated, such as turn the base star against the Cylons or make it go through a self-destruction sequence, but they could send orphan codes into the system so that various subroutines were affected, slowed down, or halted. They had no way of knowing exactly what would be affected, but soon the Cylons would have a lot of malfunctions on their hands.

Grinning, because they'd done this before, they took off. At the sound of marching boots, John stopped Sam. However, the Cylons seemed to have gone in another direction.

Letting out a breath, John started to walk again. They started to hear sounds. His mouth tightened, his jaw hardening. Neither man spoke, but they took off towards the almost animalistic cries that rang out and echoed in the hallway.

Sam forced himself to stop and grabbed John. John tried to shake him off but Sam yanked him back. He pointed at the numerous sensors lining the halls up ahead. Softly he said. "He's being tortured. That means there are some Cylons here working the scanners. If we get to him without taking them out, game over. Alarms go up and we're so much vapor. We have to find them first and not trip any alarms in the process. They'll be close to his cell. When I caved, they were in there right away, cutting me down."

Every cell in John's body wanted to rebel against Sam's plan, even though he knew the other warrior was right. "Split up," he snapped, unable to hear a centon more of this than he wanted. He knew how stubborn Dean was, that his first instinct would be not to give his torturers the pleasure of hearing him scream. As a kid, he'd been very stoic about taking punishment, not because he thought he deserved it, but because he thought it would piss John off.

He moved carefully past a few scanners, and looked inside a room. Turning, he gave Sam an 'all clear' hand signal and moved on to the next archway. Inside, there was a single Cylon staring at a screen. Before it had a chance to turn, John blasted it several times and knocked it out of the game.

He walked out, and immediately headed for Sam.

Sam was at a third door down the hall, cursing John for discharging his blaster without giving Sam warning. He had found a room with two Cylons. One was a tech, one was an officer. As soon as he heard John's gun, Sam blasted the two in the room. One glance at the screen had Sam frozen in place. He couldn't force himself to move forward, to shut down the scanners, to do anything, as his own memories swelled over him. His eyes grew wide and he felt his knees nearly give as he swayed and his blaster fell from his hand. He watched helplessly as the scanners bathed Dean in that torturous electronic pulse of agonizing pain.

"Come on," John whispered urgently into the room, then saw Sam frozen in place. Moving in front of him, he quickly shut off the scanners, almost letting out a sigh of relief when the shouting stopped. Bending, he grabbed the blaster, took Sam's wrist and slapped the blaster into his hand. "Snap out of it warrior, I need you right now. And my son needs you. Push everything else down and keep your mind on the mission." There wasn't an iota of softness or sympathy in John's tone, just a simple call to arms, one that would get through to any true warrior.

Sam didn't really see John. He saw the scanners turned off, and the screams that were matched by those in his mind fell silent. He felt the gun in his hand and heard the order. Warrior. Flinching he shook himself out of his past and pulled in a ragged breath. His eyes scoured the controls, reading the runes of Cylon writing. He punched three buttons.

"I've unlocked his door. I can't shut down the alarm sensors in the hall. Those controls are elsewhere." Sam studied the panel a moment longer and punched an additional series of buttons. "Okay, I put in that the prisoner is being given a reprieve. There shouldn't be anything to alert them something's wrong unless one of these are supposed to report in. Let's get him out of here."

Glad to have Sam back, John marched out in the direction he'd hear his son. As they neared an open door, he heard muffled sobs. "Sonova..." Striding through the door, he came to a sudden halt. His son was suspended, practically upside down. There was blood and liquid on the floor, but he saw no wounds. "Catch him," he said, taking his blaster out and shooting the plasticord bindings one by one.

Dean felt his leg come down, then his other. He'd thought they'd hit the hard ground, but something stopped them. Taking deep breaths, trying to stop the sobs, he opened his eyes. Seeing the two men, he muttered, "Biggest cosmic joke ever." As if he'd listen to them. "Answer's still 'no'."

Closing his eyes again, Dean braced for pain.

Sam eased Dean to the ground as John blasted the remaining cords. He knew what would reach Dean. The same thing that pulled him out of his past when he panicked or was lost in the memories that Dean was now living. He leaned down and kissed Dean, running a gentle hand over his forehead and down his sweat matted hair. Breaking the kiss, he whispered something he knew Dean would never hallucinate. "Shadow misses you. So do I."

Dean was shaking. Every part of him was shaking so hard his teeth rattled. Real. It was too real. They were changing tactics on him now. Faking a rescue. He wasn't that stupid. And yet Sam's warm breath fanning over his ear...

"There'll be time for that in your own quarters, move," John commanded, walking out the door first and then gesturing with his blaster.

Sam knew how it felt after a session, how it felt hanging from cords for centars. Movement was agony. Joints were stiff, sometimes wrenched painfully from thrashing. He gently scooped Dean up into his arms knowing that even bending his knees or trying to sit upright would be crippling to Dean. Given a few centons Dean would probably be able to stand, but they couldn't wait. Besides, they still had to avoid the alarm sensors and Dean wouldn't be able to. Once they got out of the cell block and up the corridor a bit, Dean would probably be up to standing on his own, and Sam suspected that he'd insist on it.

"It's real," Sam told Dean. "We're here. All of Blue squad is out there raising hell as a diversion. And Dean, nothing happened between me and Trish, we just talked. I swear. You're the one I want to be with. No one else. Unless that Serenity chick shows up at the door again asking for you, in which case I might have to visit Mike one night." Sam was trying hard to think of things that the Cylon scanners wouldn't have tortured Dean's mind with. Things that Dean could cling to and help reassure him that this was really happening.

Dean understood the individual words, but not the sentences. It was frustrating. He started to push Sam away when the movement wracked his entire body with pain. A low groan escaped him. Allowing himself to just collapse, he only concentrated on breathing. That, and the steady beat of Sam's heart against his chest. That was real, he knew that much.

He was jostled, carried over something but he couldn't see what. The walls were just a blur of white. He blinked, his eyes coming more into focus eventually. He remembered being marched down this hall. Out, they were going out. He swallowed, stretched his arm out. "Frack..."

They turned another corner and he started to struggle to get down. When his feet touched the ground, his knees almost buckled. If it weren't for Sam's shoulder under his arm, he'd have hit the ground. Biting back sounds of pain, he forced himself to stand and half limped after the dark head of hair lightly streaked with white he knew so well.

Dean wasn't gonna let emotions rule him. He would push them down for now, they didn't exist. One thing mattered, escape.

The sound of metal armor marching in time had John returning to Sam and Dean. "Go, I'll hold them off. You get my son home," he said gruffly, his eyes on Dean's as he spoke. There was no recognition in Dean's eyes, but that could be as much due to their fight as due to the Cylons having scrambled his brains.

"Bullshit," Sam snapped at him. "No one gets left behind. Including you. My pack has the explosive charges Mike got for us. Alarms are going to start going off soon anyhow. Might as well be now as a few centons from now." Sam hit the clasp and caught the strap to his pack and held it out. "I'm not leaving your ass, so we all get out or none do."

Sam hefted Dean back into his arms. "Stop fighting me Dean. You can't move fast enough yet. You up to holding a blaster?"

"Warrior, when I give an order--" John clamped down on the rest of what he was going to say. He grabbed the pack, and started digging into to. "Get going, I'll be right behind you."

Dean didn't want to be carried, but the sound of Cylons approaching stopped him from struggling. He grabbed the blaster that Sam held up, and flinched as he closed his fingers around it. Resting his arm on top of Sam's shoulder, he nodded.

Suddenly, they were moving at a dead run. No more stepping over laser traps, nothing. There was an explosion in the direction they'd come from and alarms started to sound. A group of Cylons emerged from behind closed doors. Dean squinted and squeezed the trigger, again and again, missing them. Arms around Sam's shoulders, he used his free hand to steady his shooting arm and tried again, this time nailing a Cylon. They were outnumbered though and the Cylons were shooting back at them. There was no way he could return fire that quickly. "Put me down," he said, knowing it made no sense to lose three men for one.

Using both blasters, John destroyed the Cylons from behind. They never had a chance, not against his determination. He reached the two men and passed them, making sure the way was clear.

He got the bay door open by using the code they'd agreed on and, as soon as Sam brought Dean inside, he closed it and reset the code. "Go, go, go," he shouted.

Sam got Dean over to the two man viper and set him on his feet but helped steady him. "Suck it up and climb in back. I know it hurts like a bitch."

Sam knew Dean couldn't see worth a shit yet and helped him put his hands on the hand holds. "Up," he ordered and when Dean began pulling himself up, Sam helped get his feet where they needed to be. As soon as Dean started moving, Sam climbed up into the viper and helped pull Dean into the back seat. He leaned over and got Dean buckled in and handed him a helmet. Once Dean was more or less settled Sam twisted and slid into his own seat.

"Pack," he yelled at John. He caught the pack that John lobbed and dropped it over his shoulder between Dean's feet, then closed the canopy. He checked to make certain John was settled with his canopy closed and hit the codes to scramble the shield and deactivate it.

The shield didn't go down.

"Fracking son of a bitch!" He couldn't nail the control box from his angle, but John's ship could. He'd have to break radio silence, but hopefully it wouldn't matter at this point.

"Johnny, big rectangular box by the door," Sam said as he ignited his engines, ready to launch as soon as John nailed the power coupling with his ship's lasers.

Dean put his hand out, felt the back of the pilot chair. Turning his head to the side, he saw the other viper, and then they were out of the bay, familiar pressure pushing him back against his seat as they accelerated and hit space. "Mike?" he asked, unable to clearly formulate or speak his thoughts.

"Mike's out there waiting on us," Sam said. He spoke slowly because he knew Dean's brain synapses would still be pretty damned jumbled. "It's Sam. I know you're confused. I know you're not even sure this is real. We're going into battle. You understand? You need to brace yourself. Your g-suit may be damaged. It may not work."

Sam kept close to John and kept at full thrusters. The Cylon ships hadn't wheeled toward them yet and they were still in the blind spot which also meant the basestar's gun turrets couldn't fire on them. "You get that Dean? Mike is waiting on us. It's Sam. We're going into battle. The gees may knock you out because your g-suit might be damaged. Okay?"

The repetition helped. Dean nodded, then realized he needed to give a verbal cue. "Yeah... okay, Sam." He dropped his head back and braced. As far as he was concerned, being knocked out wouldn't be a bad thing, so long as he was going to wake up on the Galactica. "You're wearing a uniform."

It was as far as he got before Sam hit the thrusters and tremendous pressure slammed into Dean. His breath wooshed out. He grimaced, trying to keep any sounds of pain to himself.

Sam almost laughed. Of all the things for Dean to notice or say, he'd realized Sam was in uniform. "Well, it's not official or anything." He didn't want to confuse Dean with too much jabber so he left it at that.

The screens showed Cylons ships beginning to break off their original course and head toward them. That was when Sam saw their escort come onto the scanners to run interference. He really didn't want to have to go into battle with Dean in the condition he was in. "Just hang on. We'll be catching up with the Galactica soon and get you to Life Center. A couple days of sleep and you'll be good as new."

Frack, a Cylon was barreling down on them. He saw John peel away to intercept. Sam kept going. John had three others to help and Sam's focus had to be on getting Dean to safety unless the feldergarb hit the ventilation shaft. He watched the screen closely, making certain the battle didn't turn against their protectors.

Vipers from blue squadron cleared the path for Sam and continued to intercept and form a protective barrier between his viper and the Cylons. At one point, a viper pulled up close and from the wing tilt wave, Dean knew it was Mike. He gave a tired smile, but couldn't see him.

The battle intensified. The Cylons realized they couldn't let the fleet get away, and if the fleet had, then they needed to recapture someone with knowledge. The humans were even more determined that this battle would be theirs, even if they hadn't anticipated this much resistance.

Suddenly, red squadron appeared and dropped down from above the battle zone. Just like that, the playing field changed. John wore a grin, seeing their people. Adama had more than come through, he'd restored John's faith, and that was something. Today was a good day. In another centar, it would be a great day. He only hoped his boy would be alright, but knowing his stubborn streak... Pushing his feelings down, John joined red squadron for a massive offensive maneuver geared to drive the Cylons back.

* * *

By the time Sam landed on the Galactica and helped get Dean onto a gurney he'd heard the battle had turned and the Cylons were pulling back. That being the case, he went with Dean who was pretty much anything but lucid. He stayed in life center while the doctors tended to Dean. He had gotten Dean to drink some water and got an energy bar down him on the way back to the battlestar, but Dean was still badly dehydrated, his body had suffered wounds from the plasticord bindings, and he might have suffered some brain damage from the mind scans. The doctors finally chased Sam out and told him to check back in a few centars but that they didn't expect Dean to be conscious for at least half a day. They would contact Sam if anything changed. In that time, John and Mike had shown up at the life center and were told the same thing.

Sam gave John a weak smile. Exhaustion clung to him but he didn't want to sleep. He knew it would not be a restful sleep, he knew the nightmares would torment him and he would awaken screaming every centar. He was hungry, sort of, but he knew food wouldn't stay down right now.

"He'll be okay," he assured the other two men. "Wanna go get drunk?"

"Drinks are on me," John said. "You men brought my boy back and were ready to break the rules, the very rules we as warriors are taught, trained to obey. Sometimes it's a very thin line that we have to walk. Some things matter too much not to cross those lines. And that's about as much of a speech as you'll get from me." Slapping both of them on their backs, he grinned and lead the way. The bar would be full of warriors celebrating and seeking stress relief. They'd done their part, now command was busy getting the rest of the armada out of harm’s way, but there wasn't a doubter among them.

* * *

"No! Get offa me." Dean struggled to get free of the bindings, tugging on them, kicking his legs, knowing he had to get free before that white light reached him again, before it made minced meat of his insides. "No!" he shouted, but his voice came out only a touch above a whisper. His throat was raw from all the shouting. His elbow made contact with a Cylon's face and it was satisfying.

Then something was shaking him. "Captain Dean, Captain! You're on the Galactica, do you understand?"

He opened his eyes, turned his head to see his wrist being bound to the side of the bed. He turned the other way, then tried to sit up. "What the frack?"

"You're having nightmares. Calm down, or I will have you sedated. Captain!" The doctor moved out of the way of Dean's foot, and brought the injection down on his arm. "Sleep. We'll call your father."

"No. Don't want him. No."

The doctor looked down at the medipad of information. "Sam Wesson then."

"No."

"Are you sure? He brought you back. He's been--"

"No. Get out... I don't want anyone, just go."

"Michael..."

He shrugged, "That's fine..." his eyes started closing. His fingers started to relax and slip off the bindings he'd been fighting. He wasn't home, if he were, they wouldn't have him restrained. He'd pretend, play along...

Darkness swallowed him.

* * *

Sam groaned. His head was pounding like a whole garrison of Cylons were walking over it. Squinting, he looked around. He was home in his bed, Shadow curled up with him. He didn't even remember coming home from the bar. He sat up slowly, moaning softly. Frack. Staggering to the bathroom, he just managed to make it before he heaved his guts out. He looked around and didn't see his towel, there was just one....

It all came back to him in a rush and he bit back a sudden sob. Why the hell had Mike or John or whoever brought him back to Dean's? He splashed his face with water then rinsed out his mouth. He walked out of the bathroom and looking to his left, and he saw all his gear was there. Thank the Lords. Staggering over to is pack, he dug out his medications, quickly taking one of the hangover pills. He couldn't remember tying one on like that in forever. Ordering up a light meal, he then showered and dressed back in his civvies. Not like he was really a warrior any more anyhow.

As he ate, he realized he had accomplished his goal. He had gotten drunk enough not to have nightmares. Well, not too many anyhow. He remembered the celebration at the bar last night and when he got drunk, how he and John were laughing and talking about old missions they'd run and being the friends they had once been.

It had felt right.

With a sigh and final pat of Shadow's head, he headed out to get to life center.

*

When Sam reached the doorway of Dean's room, his eyes widened in horror at the sight of the bindings on Dean's arms and legs.

"No! You can't do that to him!" spilled out of his mouth as he rushed forward and ripped the bindings open. A nurse tried to stop him but he pushed her away. "No," he snarled at her. As soon as the bindings were off Sam caressed Dean's face and ran his hand over Dean's hair.

"You're safe, Lover, you're safe. I won't let them tie you back down. I'll stay with you and keep you safe," he crooned to Dean, planting a light kiss on his lips.

Dean opened his eyes and tried to focus. "Free?" he asked, bringing his arm near his body. It hurt to have it pulled away from his side, every muscle still ached.

He started to try to sit up when the nurse came back with two male nurses. They were the one's who'd bound him before. "No," he shook his head, his fingers biting into Sam's arm or shoulder, he didn't know. "They're not human, they're not human," he kept saying, trying to decide on an escape route.

"Shhh, it's okay," Sam said reassuringly, standing but letting Dean continue to grip his arm. "You touch him, I'll end you," Sam growled. "He's half blind, still confused, and the Cylons kept him bound while scanning him. I'll stay with him and keep him calm while you get the doctor." He glared at the male nurses. He could take them down in under a centon, frack, probably ten microns and he didn't really care if he broke any bones in the process.

"Sir, he injured..."

The female nurse said something to the others and they started to shuffle out of the room.

Turning just enough, he laid his hand over Dean's, ignoring the way Dean's nails cut into his arm. "It's okay Dean. You're on the Galactica in life center. I'll keep you safe."

"There's no tying on the Galactica," Dean answered, looking at his hand, seeing the source of warmth was Sam's hand over his. "But they don't touch you, the Cylons." He was having trouble distinguishing fact and fiction and it was frustrating the hell out of him.

"There is when you're a little out of control, when you have nightmares and can't tell friend from enemy." Sam knelt down. "I know how confused you are and that you aren't sure where you are, you don't know what to believe. Your vision, it'll come back given time. Your confusion will go away soon too." Sam leaned over and kissed Dean's hand which still had death grip on his arm. "I'll stay with you, okay?"

He felt warm lips, soft, a little moist, press against the back of his hand. Tears stung his eyes as memories faded in and out, just out of his grasp. He leaned over, pressed mouth against Sam's, speaking against it. "Can you... can you keep the light away, just for a little. Half a centar, please." He licked his dry lips and felt his tongue slip against Sam's. He shouldn't, he didn't know why, but something made him drop back down onto his pillow.

"I'll keep the light away," Sam promised, a little disappointed Dean didn't prolong their kiss. He so desperately wanted to kiss Dean deeply, to give Dean the safety and love that Dean had given him whenever he got lost.

He had all but forgotten his fear of bright lights. As Sin, he'd been forced to perform on stage, lights shining on him, and he didn't have a choice. Given time, he grew comfortable with the idea bright light wasn't going to bathe his body in agony like no other pain imaginable. Utter darkness was almost as terrifying but he didn't imagine they had put Dean through that wonderful bit of torture.

"Would it help if we dimmed these lights? And are you hungry or thirsty?" Sam asked, squeezing Dean's hand lightly. He gently pried Dean's hand free of his arm and twined their fingers together. That freed his other hand to gently stroke Dean's hair.

"Dark, yes. Water." He didn't want to be weak, appear weak. A battle raged inside him, a part of him demanding the reassurance he was getting from Sam. "Hold me." He felt the tears slipping down his cheeks and tried to wipe them away.

Sam kissed Dean's dry lips. "Okay. Let me get you your water first, okay?" he said kissing away the tears on Dean's cheeks.

He heard the footsteps of the nurse and doctor and turned his head. "He'd like some water and the lights turned down. I can't leave his side to get the water or he'll panic, he'll get lost again. I'll keep him calm but he can't be tied down again. It puts him back there."

The doctor frowned. "So long as he stays calm, okay," he said reluctantly. "He's been violent, we didn't have a choice."

Sam bit back the harsh words he wanted to berate the doctor with. Of course Dean was violent. He was scared out of his fracking wits, waiting for the torture to start again. They didn't understand. He got that. No one could really understand who hadn't been put through the hell of Cylon torture. Instead of answering he merely nodded at the doctor. "Lights? Water?" he repeated.

The doctor dimmed the lights while the nurse got Dean a glass of water. Sam helped Dean lie on his side so he could drink the water easier out of the straw he put up against Dean's lips. Once Dean had finished most of it, Sam set it aside. The doctor and nurse had already left so Sam slipped into the narrow bed and spooned himself up against Dean, lightly wrapping his arm around Dean's waist and holding his hand.

"You can sleep, Lover. I'm right here to keep you safe. I won't leave you."

"No. Not you. Sin... Sin's mine, he won't leave." Dean's hand clenched around the material of Sam's shirt. "You're hers, but he's mine. Won't give him up... won't." He started to tense, then went lax. He'd solved the problem in his head, he could sleep now, safe from the light.

Sam tugged him closer, feeling his own tears. "Sin will always be yours, but so will I," he whispered in Dean's ear, kissed his neck, then settled in to get a bit of sleep himself.

* * *

Dean woke up stiff, cramped, and a little confused. He looked at his surroundings, heard Sam's steady breaths and slowly pieced together what had happened. It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a nightmare, it had all happened. He'd been captured and tortured. Then he'd been rescued. Sam. Sam had come after him, to a Cylon prison. Dean knew how hard he must have had to fight to do it.

Turning his head, he watched Sam's face, his profile. Was he grateful? Yeah, he couldn't be more grateful, not when he knew the price Sam paid to get him. Mostly, though, it hurt to look at Sam, to know the things he'd come to want were not possible. The chasm between them had never been Sam's condition, no... it was a thing called history.

Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Holding onto the railing, he forced himself up. His legs were a little shaky but they didn't hurt anymore. Beyond the open door of his room, he saw light and flinched. Then he told himself over and over that he was home. Crossing the short distance to the closet, he opened it and was relieved to see his clothes.

He tugged the pajamas off, and realized there was no way he was bending all the way to the ground. Walking back to the bed, he sat and started to pull the pants on.
Sam's eyes fluttered open when Dean got out of bed. He'd watched as Dean jerked back a little at seeing the light. Dean didn't seem to realize he was awake as he settled back onto the bed. Sam sat up and kissed the back of Dean's neck. "Feeling better? Want me to get you breakfast?" Sam asked.

Dean closed his eyes. No, don't think I'll ever feel better. "Yeah, I'm just great. And no, don't want anything." He stood up again, pulled the pants up and fastened them. Now he had to turn, to face Sam as he reached across the bed to grab his shirt. "You didn't have to... you know, stay."

"Mmm, you're a lousy liar. And you need to eat. Or at least have some juice. You're still pretty dehydrated." Sam threw back the covers. He still had his pants on though he had taken off his shirt. He had a few bruises on his chest from taking a few elbows to the gut and chest as he soothed away Dean's nightmares. "Why wouldn't I want to stay? Besides, I don't have any place to go. The Hand of God is a nice place to visit and even sleep once in a while but it pretty much sucks as quarters."

Dean snorted and pulled the shirt on. Getting it sealed shut was a different story, his fingers didn't seem to want to work. "I'm not that confused anymore." When he looked at Sam, there was only longing in Dean's eyes. That and resignation. "What? You want a 'thank you?' You'll get it, I know what you did for me. I just... not now, alright. I just can't right now." He ripped the shoulder seal back open to try to get it sealed properly and hearing thread break, decided not to bother trying to re-close it.

Sam's jaw clenched. "Good. You're not confused. Then listen to me. I'm not with Trishan. I never was with her. Yes, I was having lunches with her but I told her I was in a relationship. It was...I was trying to hold on a little to the past, to talk with someone who remembered things I remembered, who could explain things that had happened, and Dean, she had been my fiancé. I wanted to know that she'd gone on to have a good life. She isn't my love anymore. We've both changed too much for that. I know she would like me back in her life but...it's not happening. When you threw me out, I went to the Hand of God. I was staying there, praying you'd come for me, that you'd read my email and forgive me for not telling you about Trish. That you'd let me come home. I love you. Only you. Please, Dean, forgive me," he begged.

"If that were the truth..." Dean's voice broke. He reached for the water on the tray and drank deeply, then set it down. "Who... who in their right mind would just have 'lunches' with you, Sam? Is she blind? Is she nuts?" He sniffed. "I already had it explained to me real well. You're the John and Mary that never happened and now... now is your chance to make it. Fine, I'm twenty fucking yahrens too late, and I will get that eventually," he said, tears rolling down his cheek. "But just... stop lying to me. It's not necessary. You may have saved my life, but I don't need you to save me. No one ever died of a broken--" He picked the glass up again, this time draining it before dropping it down onto the tray.

Sam stepped up to Dean, wiping his tears away with his thumb. "What she wants doesn't matter Dean. What I want does. What John thinks is best for me is what John thinks, not what I think. I know what's best for me and what I want. I want a life with you. For better or for worse, that's what you told me when we were making love." Sam kissed him deeply, tangling his tongue with Dean holding on to him so tightly. When he finally had to stop to catch his breath he almost demanded, "Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm yours. Always."

Dean wasn't thinking as straight as he'd thought. Or it was Sam's nearness, his tongue in his mouth, demanding a response. Dean couldn't have denied Sam, even if he'd wanted to. Everything he'd wanted, everything he'd hoped for, Sam was saying it was still there... still on the table. All he had to do was take it. Put himself out there. Say the words he'd been anxious to say before he'd found out about Trishan and according to Sam, drawn the wrong conclusion.

Hazel eyes locked on his were demanding an answer. Dean reached out and grabbed a handful of Sam's shirt, and nodded. "I love you, Sam. I want this... you, more than anything. For always, with no one, nothing interfering. Just you and me. You're mine." His grip tightened. "And I won't share you."

"You don't have to share me. Ever. I want this, too." Kissing Dean with all his fears of losing him and passion of loving him, his lungs were burning by the time he finally broke the kiss gasping.

"Let me check with the doctor, find out what we need to do to get you back on your feet and how long you're grounded. I know you won't stay here even if he wants you to. Sit. Wait patiently. Please." Sam refilled Dean's water. "Sure you don't want breakfast?"

"Not yet." He glanced at the door and gave a nod. "There's nothing they can do for me here that can't be done in my quarters." Running a hand over his face, he sat down. It would give him a chance to prepare to face the light outside, to tell himself it wasn't the same.

"They might want to get some more fluids in you and monitor you. But I'll let them know I'm staying with you and I'll call if there's any problem." Sam ran his hand one more time over Dean's hair then turned and headed out to find the doctor. Dean still wanted him! Dean forgave him! His heart thumped almost painfully in his chest.

*

"Dean's ready to go to his quarters. I'm staying with him and I'll keep an eye on him and make sure he drinks and eats."

"He really needs to stay a few more days," the doctor said, giving Sam his best official glare.

"He won't stay. And doctor, I know what he's going through. He's going to have nightmares and get a little lost at times. I know how to keep him grounded. He needs a place where he feels safe and that's familiar. This isn't it. He'll be back on his feet much faster in his own quarters."

Scowling, but having dealt with the captain before, the doctor gave an irritated sigh and a nod. "Under the condition I put one more bag of fluids in him before he leaves and I get one more set of vitals and check him over. You can fill his prescriptions in the meantime."

"No shining a light in his eyes, and keep the room dim," Sam said firmly. "Otherwise you'll end up with a broken jaw from him. If you're lucky, that's all you'll end up with. How long is he grounded?"

"Until I say otherwise. He's going to need approval of a psychologist that he is indeed ready to return to duty."

Sam nodded, not surprised by the answer. "I'll go tell him. Have the prescription order brought to his room."

Returning to Dean's room, Sam was pleased to see Dean was still sitting on the bed. "The doc wants one more bag of fluids in you and to give you a final once over before letting you go to quarters. I'll get your prescriptions filled while he's checking you over unless you want me to stay."

"Nah, it's alright. What time is it... what day is it?" He hoped it wasn't a time when there would be many people around, and he'd just realized he didn't know how long he'd been held.

"It's the middle of the night, middle of your typical shift. They had you for four days."

Dean shook his head. "Okay. Felt like a lifetime." Thinking back hurt his head. He didn't think he'd given the Cylon's anything, but he wasn't sure. What if he had? "Go on," he said, not wanting to face that possibility here. "I need to get out of here."

After Sam left, the doc came in. Dean let him prod and poke, though the longer the process took, the less patience he had. "How many brain cells did I lose," he asked eventually.

"If I had to guess, you seem alright. If you stayed, we could do some more testing. The brain scan, we can only do that after you've flushed your system for several days. That will give a definitive answer."

Over the next twenty centons, the doctor was in and out of the room. As the nurse was freeing Dean from the hydration tubing, the doctor put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Captain, perhaps you should reconsider and stay another twenty four centars."

"Not a chance." Seeing Sam at the door, Dean got up and headed to him, gripping the door frame when the strong white overhead lights of the corridor of the life center came into view. He braced for pain, holding his breath, expecting it.

Sam saw Dean's moment of fear, the expectation of the sheer agony. He pulled out a pair of sun glasses from the bag he carried and put them on Dean. The prescription place had them for people who had eye surgeries.

"Very you," he said. "This should help some. We can work on getting you slowly accustomed to bright lights again. Probably within a week you'll be able to deal with it okay. Though doctors checking your eyes with their damned flashlights will probably always freak you." He passed a mild glare at the doctor. "You ready to go home?"

Dean let out a shaky breath. "Very me? You mean very you. You used to wear shades, I remember. You'd leave them on top of your head." The memory had him smiling because as a kid he'd always thought that was something girls did to keep their hair back.

He took a step, then another, and another. Concentrating only on walking, his gaze mostly on the ground but shifting around once in a while in a fit of paranoia, he made it out of life center. Maybe he'd crowded Sam's space a little, and one time, he grabbed the back of Sam's shirt when something that a passerby was holding reflected silver light toward him and made him think of the Cylons. "I need to get into a sim battle, soon as I can," he said, knowing he did not want to be eaten by fear of those bastards. He had to know that he could still fight them and not want to curl up and die.

Sam put his arm around Dean's waist protectively and pulled him close. Dean was in no condition to fly right now, and if he got in a battle and froze up, it might completely wreck him. By the same argument, if he could hold himself together, it might help him. The sight of Cylon raiders still panicked Sam a little, and the basestar...if he hadn't been so focused on rescuing Dean, he never would have been able to do it. If he didn't love Dean so damned much, he never could have done it.

Sam guided Dean around a group of people, keeping himself between Dean and them. He could see the sweat running down the side of Dean's face.
"I'll get you set up for one under one condition, no gees. Not until we know your brain is okay. You might have taken damage that is healing and pulling gees could re-damage it. I'm not risking you injuring yourself, injuring you reflexes or anything else. And you have to eat. You eat some fruit or a sandwich, something. We're not putting you in a viper for at least a few centars after that because I want to make sure it stays down. Will you do that for me?"

"I think you can convince me, if you try harder," Dean smirked, though he had a death grip on Sam now that they entered the lift which was even brighter and had too many shiny surfaces. "I need a shower. I..." The sound of the doors hissing open startled him. "Sonova..." Face hardening, he took a determined step out of the lift.

"I don't think harder will been an issue," Sam smirked back. He hated seeing Dean so jumpy. He had been through it all himself and understood. Of course for him, he had broken so they rarely put him back in the mind scanner. The mere threat of it would have him on his knees, shaking so violently and doing everything he could to keep from throwing up. Them putting him in cryo wasn't a helluva lot better. The first weeks at Thiros were horrible, but at the same time it didn't take a lot to get him to do whatever they wanted collar or no collar. The collar was just another motivation and in some ways replaced the fear of the mindscanners.

They stopped in front of Dean's door. Sam punched in a code. He glanced at Dean. "They brought my stuff down from the Hand of God last night. Mike gave me the override code so I could get in since I was taken out of the system. I was only here while we were planning your rescue. Shadow's inside, so don't be startled when she comes out of the bedroom, okay?"

He nodded. "Sam... I'm sorry." He didn't step inside when the door opened. "If I hadn't... when I got back, I'd have read it. The email you said you sent. I was angry... over the top angry. I shouldn't have done anything before talking to you, it's not how a relationship works. I should have known better."

"And I should have told you about Trish. A relationship doesn't work when somebody hides something from the other," he answered as he guided Dean inside.

Shadow was lying on top of one of the duffels that were still sitting just inside the door. Seeing the two men she stood and stretched, arching her back and yawning. She then sat down and meowed.

"Stay there Shadow," Sam told her. Dean didn't need her underfoot right now. "Remember the night before? I was trying to tell you something, that night? I was trying to tell you about Trish. Mike had seen us together and even he thought I might be cheating on you. He asked me about it that night and I realized he was right, that you needed to know. Since I didn't tell you and Mike didn't...was it John? Oh, and for the record, before I left on the mission to rescue you, I talked with her and told her goodbye. Whether I came back or not, we couldn't do lunch anymore. It wasn't fair to her and not to me. I can't live in the past. I want to live in the future, with you. Besides, in the past, you're a five yahren old." Sam made a face.

Dean did remember, remembered shutting Sam up in the most inventive ways he knew. "Oh just admit it, I was hot at five," he tossed out, making his way to the bedroom, then sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking up. He pulled the glasses off and laughed at Sam's expression. Then he cleared his throat, "No, it wasn't him. I was interviewing her and made the mistake of asking why she'd decided to rejoin the fight."

Not wanting to think about that anymore, Dean started to strip. "Maybe I acted like I was still five yahren," he conceded.

Sam pulled his shirt off. He needed a shower too. "You always act like a five yahren old," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Possessive of his toys, stuffs half a peanut butter sandwich in his mouth at once, obsessive about handstands, likes to play in the shower...."

"Careful Sam, I might think you're my toy." He gave his lover a look and stood up. "And you're undressing because you want to... be played with?" Despite his flirty words, Dean owned up to the truth. "The mind is willing, I'm not so sure about the body. I know you've probably waited for this but..." Yeah, he didn't want to disappoint.

"I'm undressing because I need a shower, too. You know it is possible to have a shower together and not have sex. You're probably still too sore to wash your back easily, or your hair. Besides I like seeing your naked wet body."

"It's possible?" Dean's mouth dropped open. "Only if you do it wrong." He was grateful for the out, just not sure he wanted to take it. "How about kissing? I like kissing you when you're wet." He unfastened his pants and walked up to Sam. Taking his hands, he put them on his hips. "Take ‘em off for me?"

Just as Dean started to lean in, a loud 'ding' announced someone at the door and had him blanching as he gripped Sam's shoulder. He took a couple deep breaths, trying to keep it together. It wasn't Cylons, it wasn't technicians. He was home. Home with Sam.

Sam pulled Dean into his arms protectively and held him a moment while Dean gathered himself. He kissed Dean's temple. "I'll get it. Zip up."

Releasing Dean, Sam headed out of the bedroom and went to the door. He figured it was probably Mike. When he door opened he found he was wrong, but it wasn't really a surprise who was there.

"John," Sam said and stepped aside. "Come on in."

Chapter Text

"I went to life center. They said Dean was here," John said to Sam, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"Too many people, too many noises. He needs familiarity to help keep him grounded. And he wants to get some sim time in as soon as possible. I told him after he eats and no gees," Sam answered.

"How is he doing?" John asked softly, his eyes demanding the truth from Sam.

"He'll be fine in a few weeks, maybe even ready to return to duty if the docs have already cleared him of any brain damage," Sam assured him. "He's traumatized," Sam admitted. "Sudden noises, bright lights, shiny surfaces, they all shoot a spike of adrenalin through him. With some therapy for getting him re-accustomed to those things, he'll be okay."

"What about you?"

Sam's eyebrows both lifted. "I'm fine. As fine as I've been anyhow."

"You did good out there Sam. Adama reinstated your commission for that mission, you know that."

"No, he made it active. It was never taken away since I was considered dead," Sam answered.

John's cut hand through the air, his eyes almost steely. "Semantics. We need you flying."

"You came to see Dean," Sam said, his eyes giving John a warning to back-off. "I'll go get him."

Since the door was open, Dean could hear everything. He'd hoped his dad would be satisfied with what Sam told him and just leave, but it was an unrealistic hope. With leaden steps, he walked out of the room and stood in the doorway, near the two men. His eyes were on his father, but he said nothing. He wasn't sure if he'd ever really have anything more to say to him, it felt like everything had changed between them.

"Dean," John said relief clear in his eyes as he crossed the room toward his son. He'd been running through all the things he wanted to say to his son, all the things he'd never easily been able to tell him. Mary had always been so much better at expressing feelings. "I'm glad to see you're up," he said, only just preventing himself from hugging his boy. The coolness in his son's eyes stopped him in his tracks though.

He wanted to rip Dean a new one for splitting off from his men and putting himself in a position he never shouldn't have gotten himself into in the first place. He wanted to hug his son and tell him how glad he was to have him back and in one piece. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to tell Dean he was sorry about Trishan, because the truth was, he wasn't. Both she and Sam had a right to know. The fact that Sam had several lunches with her spoke of just how much Sam still cared about her, but he remembered Sam's words that it was over between Trish and himself. Would that be the case if Dean hadn't come back or decided not to take him back? He suspected Sam was lying to himself and that he would seek the woman out, but he reluctantly accepted there was nothing he could do about it. He had done what needed to be done. Try as he might, he still found it hard to accept ... to believe that Dean would choose Sam over anyone else. That Sam was staying with Dean out of gratitude was something else he suspected, that he cared about Dean because of everything Dean had done for him and not out of real love.

With a deep breath John straightened. "I'm real proud of you Son. Real proud. Your mother would be too." He met Dean's icy gaze. "I've never blamed you for your mother's death. Yes, I said a few things, but that was grief talking, and I've always wanted to take back those words. I know it wasn't your fault. If it had been me in that transport trying to get to her the outcome would have been the same except she'd have died in front of me instead of you."

Dean was silent for a long moment, recalling the bitter words he'd spoken. Really, it had been a parting shot aimed to hit his dad where it hurt, same as tossing Sam out of their quarters had been. Return fire for the pain they'd caused him. "It's not just you. I blame myself too." It was illogical, he'd gone over the events of that day countless times in his mind and there wasn't a thing he could have done to save her. "Thanks for getting me out," he added woodenly. He knew he should feel grateful, that it was an operation that had been very risky and difficult, maybe even had almost no chance of success. But he also knew his father would have done it for anyone. Had done it for others, even the man standing in the room with them, for Sam.

John's gaze slid between the two men. "Nothing like being on the shit list of both your old friend and your son," he muttered. "I did what I thought needed to be done," John said. "I wasn't out to hurt either of you."

"I am grateful to know Trish survived," Sam said. "I'm glad that because I went to see her, she got out of an unhappy situation and is returning to the warriors. Seeing her well, it...it sort of fixed a part of me and answered some nagging questions. I still care about her but that feeling that was there between us," Sam shook his head, "it's just not there. Yeah there is still a spark but it's an ember from a fire long ago, a fire that will never be rekindled. I love someone now who means everything to me." Looking at Dean he said. "He completes me in a way even Trish never did."

Sam walked over to Dean pulled him into his arms. "That would be you, just in case you need it spelled out for you," he told Dean and then kissed him as passionately as he possibly could. When he finally broke his kiss, he felt smug satisfaction at the look on his friend's face. "So, like you were always telling me, suck it up and deal with it, Johnny."

Though he considered himself a good poker player, John couldn't hide the look of pure distaste that crossed his features. His son and a man. His best friend and his son. Twenty yahrens between them, and yet not really. Two separate histories, ones that he'd never predict could become intertwined. "I'm going to need therapy after this," he muttered

If he'd been in a better mood, Dean might have laughed at the look on his dad's face. He supposed if they'd been on better terms, he might be a little mad at Sam for pulling that trick. Now though, he was with Sam. His dad would have to suck it up, this was happening whether he liked it or not.

"I'm tired. I need a shower," Dean said, not even attempting subtlety.

John took the hint, there being no doubt by Dean's look that Dean wanted him the hell out of his quarters. He gave a curt nod and without a word, turned and left.

Sam gave his lover a one armed hug. "He doesn't get it yet, Dean. Trish and I had been like your mother and father. Inseparable. Deeply in love. She was the most important thing in my life. We were going to have kids, she was going to teach at the academy for a while, then we were going to trade out every few yahrens so we could each still do what we loved and each have time with the kids. John remembers that, I think he'd even been planning my bachelor party though I hadn't actually asked her yet. Don't be too hard on him. He expects me to be the man he remembers, but I'm not."

Dean stiffened and pulled away. Did he really need to hear this. Dammit, he fucking got all that and the repetition wasn't at all helpful.

"... I never will be again just as Trish is not the woman I fell in love with. She's got kids, she's been through her own sets of trauma, and we're strangers." Sam shook his head. "Even with all that, even if there had still been any real fire between us, you make me feel like I never did with her. There's something, some connection, a heat inside of me and you're the only one who can quench it. I loved her but she wasn't my universe. Not like you are. John will see that eventually. Give him time and forgive him for doing what he thought was right for both of us. Even if it wasn't any of his damned business."

Dean didn't even want to think about a possible fire between Sam and Trishan. No, Dean wasn't naive, of course Sam would find other people attractive - they both would, but knowing was different than wanting to hear about it firsthand. "You and me, we're good. You don't have to explain anymore, you don't have to reassure me, I get it. I am right there with you Sam, right there," he said, looking intently at him, not making any effort to cover the depths of his feelings for the man standing in front of him.

"As for John. You're wrong. He didn't do it for me, I didn't figure in his equation at all. He did it for you. He did it for her. He told me and you weren't there. So don't ask me to... Just stay out of it, you don't know the history and trust me, you don't want to get caught in the cross-fire." As soft as his eyes had been when he told Sam in his way that Sam was his universe too, they hardened to granite now and held a warning.

Dean took a step back. "Unzip me. Let's see what I can do about that heat."

Sam still had his issues with John, from his capture, from being left behind and from hurting Dean the way he had. He didn't want to imagine what John had told Dean as to why he did it. But if Dean thought he didn't figure into the equation, he was wrong. John really didn't want Sam and Dean together as lovers and he had tried to sabotage it in the name of doing what he thought was best for everyone. Sam knew that side of John all too well, but those were probably things Dean didn't need to hear. He would stay out of it as Dean asked...mostly.

Sam laughed softly as he stepped close to Dean, looking down into those beautiful eyes he had feared he'd never see again and had feared would never look at him with love again.

"You know we don't seem to be able to stop with just some kissing and making out," Sam said as he reached between them and undid the button on Dean's pants. After opening the zipper he pushed the pants down, running his tongue straight down the center of Dean's chest as he did.

"I know," Dean threw his head back and let out a heavy breath. "We must be doing it wrong." His hand automatically went to cup the back of Sam's head, but he didn't push him down lower. Instead, he stroked his hair, running his fingers through the soft, slippery strands. "In the life center, one of my ... my nightmares, I dreamed they wiped my memory, like they did to you. I didn't know you and it fucking hurt." His fingers clenched around Sam's hair and he had to force himself to relax his fingers.

Sam pressed his cheek against Dean's stomach and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "I would have reminded you," Sam said, "because I refuse to lose you again."

Sam got to his feet and looked down at Dean. "They never wiped my memory. That would have been counter-productive. Sin developed as a protection mechanism once I was at Thiros. Like I told the doctor, I always knew my real name, I just didn't want to face what I'd done. The Cylons showed me images of the destruction they wreaked on our worlds. I don't know if it was the Rim colonies or the Twelve Colonies. They told me how pleased they were at how I had helped them. They grasp more about Human emotions and psychology than one might believe. At least the two brainers do--the officers.

"Yes, there were times I was very confused and locked away everything, and times I didn't know where I was." He cupped Dean's face between his hands, "But they don't wipe one's memories. Maybe that knowledge will put that nightmare to rest."

Sam unbuttoned his own pants and pushed them down, stepping out of them. Kissing Dean, he reveled in the feel of Dean's flesh against his own, and encouraged Dean to take control of the kissing, coaxing Dean's tongue into his mouth. His lover's confidence had been shaken and the man needed to know he still had control. It was the same thing that at times drove Sam to be aggressive with Dean. He needed to know he still had that strength in him.

When Sam's mouth closed over his, Dean gave a soft sigh. There were many things he didn't know, but this he knew. Sam's taste. The way Sam's tongue would slide alongside his own and expertly twist around as Sam sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth, an invitation that Dean could never resist. He moved his mouth slowly back and forth across Sam's as he kissed him, taking his time to rediscover the man who owned him, body and soul.

It was a slow burn, subtle but intense. Sensing Sam was trying to get him to deepen the kiss, Dean pulled away and stared into Sam's eyes. "Won't ever get enough of you, you know that?" He cupped Sam's face with both hands and dragged him close, crushing their lips together and probing the depths of Sam's hot mouth. Time stood still as they kissed just like that for a long time, hardly touching elsewhere, just their mouths moving over each either.

Dean's hands dropped to Sam's waist. "You're right... can't seem to stop here," he muttered in defeat, sweeping his hands up Sam's sides, then moving his thumbs in circles over his nipples. Sam's instant reaction never failed to draw a groan from Dean. "What else you have for me?" he asked, pushing his leg between Sam's and pressing closer as his mouth descended over Sam's one more time.

Anything you want, Sam thought, closing his eyes as Dean continued to make slow love to his mouth. Dean's thirst for Sam's tongue and mouth made any verbal answer impossible. He rubbed up and down Dean's leg as his cock slowly began to fill, a moan sounding from deep within his throat. Running his hands up and down Dean's back, his hands brushed lightly over the still healing injuries.

Reluctantly he broke their kiss but still caressed Dean's back. "Are you sure you're up for this? I can wait as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere."

"This what? I thought you were gonna wash me," Dean said with a mischief-filled look, backing into the bedroom and pulling Sam with him. His gaze deliberately dropped to Sam's cock jutting between them, occasionally sliding against his hip as Dean moved into the small bathroom. "If it turns out that I'm not, I could still make you come. With or without touching," he said huskily, "but I think there will be touching." Blindly, he reached inside the shower, braced for the sound and started the water.

Sam laughed at their long standing joke. "Oh, I'll wash you all right."

Reaching between them, Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's cock. In long slow strokes he used his thumb to put pressure on that sensitive zone on the underside of Dean's member. "You know it's a lot easier to wash certain areas if they're fully expanded, stiff, and hard."

He grinned and bent down enough to suck on one of Dean's nipples. "Everything, nice and hard," he murmured, then ran his tongue around and around it, following up with nipping and sucking on it. His free hand went between Dean's shoulder blades and pressed Dean tighter against his mouth.

"Fuck..." Dean bit his lip and gripped Sam's shoulders. His lover's tongue and mouth moving over the most sensitive areas of his chest sent shudders of need through him. "Very nice. Very hard," he agreed breathlessly. "Keep it up and we're never making it inside," he warned, shifting so Sam could give his attention to his other nipple. As teeth scraped over his flesh, he gave an audible gasp.

He wasn't sure if he did the pulling and pushing, or it was Sam, but somehow they made it inside the shower stall and hot water coursed down over him. Between that and Sam's hard body sliding against his, he thought it couldn't get better. Holding him, running his hands up and down Sam's chiseled body and cupping his ass, Dean dipped his head down and licked Sam's throat before sucking a bit of flesh inside his mouth. "Mmm, you taste good when you're slippery," he said.

He pressed Sam back against the tile, covering him with his body, thrusting against him lightly. It was strange, no thoughts of torture even skirted his mind. It was like it had all happened to someone else, at least while he had Sam in his arms. Lifting his head, "touch me," he demanded, even as he reached for Sam's cock and closed his fist around its thickness. He'd swiped his hand over the soap, so his fist glided up and down Sam's thickening dick.

After a pleasure filled gasp from Sam as Dean's hand caressed his member, he managed an innocent "Touch you? Where?" before he started letting his hands roam. Spreading his fingers he tracked them along Dean's ribcage from back to front. Sliding his hands upward, his thumbs circled counter to each other as they rubbed Dean's nipples into tight nubs of flesh. His right hand he slid upward, caressing Dean's neck, along his ear, then traced down his jaw before lightly running two fingers along his lips. Those same fingers then traced up Dean's cheekbone to his temple and through his hair. His left hand drifted back along his ribs, pulled forward again and traced the hard muscles of Dean's stomach, dipping lower but never touching Dean's burgeoning cock. He ran his hand back to squeeze Dean's firm ass before sliding a finger down the crease between Dean's cheeks.

Leaning away from the tile he captured Dean's mouth, using some of the finest kissing talents Sin had ever learned. He traced his fingers down Dean's body, teasing his sides, along his thigh, then slid the heel of his hand along Dean's cock.

"Sammy!" Dean's tortured groan echoed around them in the small stall. Then his mouth was recaptured and they were kissing again, touching, playing, taking their time as they fondled each other, slowly but surely driving each other to the edge. "More," Dean pleaded, stroking Sam's cock faster and harder now and trying to deal with the pressure building low in his own belly. There was an edge of desperation in the way he was thrusting his hips, frustrated by Sam's refusal to let him fuck his fist hard. "Please..."

And then Dean wasn't begging anymore, he was taking things into his own hands. Pushing Sam's hand, he moved closer, and grasped both of their cocks, pressing them together as he jerked them off. Low groans started to tear from the back of his throat as the need for release rode him. He alternately kissed Sam and nipped his earlobe, telling him how much he needed to come right now.

"Come inside me, then," Sam told him, pushing Dean away as he disengaged Dean's hand from his cock, wincing at the sudden loss of pressure on his own growing need. He soaped his hand and took over jacking Dean off, get Dean's cock good and slick, and sucking on Dean's neck hard, knowing he would leave a very clear mark there. He could feel Dean's desperation and tension heightening. He released Dean's cock and turned, putting his hands firmly against the tile, spreading his legs, and relaxing himself, ready for Dean, ready to give him what he really needed.

"Gods--" Dean's heated gaze traveled down from Sam's broad shoulders, to his narrow waist and tight ass, and then he was on Sam, positioning the blunt tip of his cock at Sam's hole, succumbing to the incredible temptation of pushing inside even as he complained against Sam's ear. "Why do you do this? When I can't prepare you... hate to hurt you, Sam." No matter how many times Sam explained he knew how to relax enough to accept Dean's penetration, Dean had trouble completely believing it.

Didn't stop him now though. He gripped Sam's hips and groaned with pleasure as every last inch of him was sheathed inside Sam's tight heat. His cock pulsed and ached, sending messages to his body, ramping up Dean's need to fuck. Closing one arm around Sam's waist, and taking his cock in the other, Dean started to thrust. He pulled out almost all the way, and ground his hips, cursing as Sam clenched tightly around him.

He started to fuck Sam, rocking against him in a slow, circular motion, angling his thrusts until he felt Sam buck. "Okay..." he started to fuck harder then, making sure to hit Sam's prostate as they moved together in perfect rhythm. Each time Sam clenched, pleasure rippled through Dean and he made sure he voiced it and showed Sam, with his body, trying to return the favor.

Harder, faster, he single mindedly used his entire body to power into Sam's as he fucked his way toward release. "Oh yeah... oh yeah, Sam...now. Now!" he shouted, biting Sam's shoulder as he stiffened and came hard and fast, deep inside his lover's body, muttering semi-intelligibly about how good Sam felt, how much he needed him, that he was the only one that would... could ever satisfy him so completely.
When Sam felt Dean's teeth dig into his shoulder and the tension that filled his lover, he answered Dean's cry with one of his own as he bucked forward. Ribbons of spunk showered the wall and he pushed back against Dean, clenching and milking him. He twisted his head and nudged Dean with his chin. They captured each other's mouths and their tongues danced and played. Reaching behind him he wrapped his arms around his waist and just held him there, keeping him inside him.

Finally they broke their kiss and Sam released him so Dean could pull out. Sam turned in Dean's arms. "You're perfect, you know that. And you know what else? Tomorrow, if you're up to it, I'm going to be utterly Sinful for you." Soaping up his hands he began washing Dean's back while he still stared into Dean's eyes, a hint of mischief in them. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It never ceased to work on him, the effect just the thought of upside down sex had. For an instant, Dean was completely unable to answer, his eyes glazing over as he thought about the handful of times they'd done that. "You're evil. Cruel and evil. How am I supposed to rest after you said that?" he demanded, only half joking, but knowing full well he wasn't in any shape to give it a try, not even if Sam did all the work. "Okay... next time I'll be sure to jerk off a couple of centars before, so we can actually get to that," he said, sounding a bit dazed as he remembered how he'd been looking forward to it when they'd returned from the bar, but been unable to wait.

"Of course I'm evil. Sin, remember? And I can help you with getting ready for that too," Sam offered. "I'm sure I can find it in me to be Sinful twice in one day. Besides if I don't get back to working out regularly, I'm going to lose some of that flexibility that I know you like. I much prefer working out with you than at some gym," he said giving Dean an appropriate leer.

As Sam washed his back and ass, Dean leaned in and kissed his temple. "I thought maybe you might want to fuck my mouth while I'm upside down, hanging off the bed or something." He almost laughed at Sam's expression. "I know how hung up you are on my mouth. Just saying..."

He leaned into Dean's kiss with a soft sigh. The mouth crack though had him looking at Dean's lips and groaning just a little. "Mmm, I like that. You know, I could hang upside down and we could fuck each others' mouths," he suggested, imagining that and feeling his cock twitch. Down, boy, he mentally scolded it.

Sam continued to wash Dean, spending a little extra time on his nipples and cock and balls, but trying to be kind and not get Dean worked up. Dean really did look tired and just a little fucked out. Washing Dean's hair he said, "I think the next order of business is to get food into you. You probably don't realize how hungry you are since you haven't hardly had anything for the past handful of days. So what sounds good? And I want you to eat before going to bed."

"I think you have a food kink," Dean half-heartedly complained. "Coffee." At the strict look from Sam, he groaned. "Surprise me. You've worn me down anyway, I'll eat whatever you give me." He rinsed off the rest of the soap and opened the door. "What you said about both of us fucking each others' mouth... yeah, I'd like that." He gave Sam grin and walked out, leaving him to finish taking his own shower.

"I do not have a food kink!" Sam called after him. "It just takes a lot of food to have the energy to have sex ten times a day," he muttered to himself.

By the time Sam finished and stepped into the bedroom, he saw Dean was already asleep on the bed. Sam blew out a soft laugh. "I rest my case about sex and food," he scolded Dean softly as he pulled the blanket off his own cot and draped it over Dean.

"I'll join you after I eat something. Sweet dreams," he whispered and kissed Dean's cheek before heading into the other room.

* * *

Despite Dean's plans, he spent most of the next three days in bed. His short spurts of energy weren't enough for a trip to the simulation room. Sleep didn't come easily either. Though he was often tired, sleep meant nightmares. If Sam hadn't been there to calm him and if he'd still been confined to the life center, Dean was sure he'd have been bound to the bed to prevent injuries to himself and others. Because the nightmares were so grueling, he started to fight his sleep. This had Sam insisting he take sedatives because sleep was essential to recovery and boy, he found out how forceful and stubborn Sam could be when it counted.

His father had stopped by every day, but he hadn't stayed more than five centons each time. To be fair, Dean didn't give him any reason to. He was vaguely aware that John also spoke with Sam a few times a day and checked on his progress, but Dean but refused to acknowledge the calls or to ask Sam for details about them.

Mike had come over several times. Much to Sam's distress, the last time he'd come over and told Dean that Dean looked shit tired, Dean had smugly told him it was called 'sexual exhaustion' and that Sam was responsible. That was it, every other visitor from the squad had something to say about sexual exhaustion to Sam or to him. He was cool with it, and he thought maybe Sam was putting on an act just to give him something to enjoy.

Finally having more of his strength back, Dean thought it was time to try out a sim. He was fracking tired of seeing Cylons in his dreams, poking him and hurting him. It was time for a little payback, and he hoped he was up to it.

He got into uniform and they chose a time when there wouldn't be many people around. He used the dark glasses Sam had gotten for him and did a lot better walking outside his quarters than he had before. To pass the time, he's also reviewed footage of the rescue and subsequent battle and couldn't get it out of his mind that Sam needed to have his commission reactivated permanently. From what he could see, he would only need perfunctory re-training, just to catch him up on new procedures, theory and maneuvers.

When they entered the sim room, Dean approached a viper. The screen was blank now, but it would soon depict the enemy. Trying to take his mind off what his own reaction might be, he jerked his chin toward the viper next to his. "I want you to do this with me, Sam."

Sam scowled. "Don't you start on me too. I told John, I'm not cut out to be a warrior anymore. I’ll watch from the platform. You'll do fine. Or we can get Mike to come down and fly with you."

"If I fucking wanted Mike..." He popped the top open, then looked at Sam. "I watched you, watched every last centon of the footage they had. I want you to be there with me. We can both fight our demons at the same time, and if you need to, you can pretend you're rescuing me again."
Sam glared at Dean and suspected Dean had also laid his hands on the sim recordings that Sam had given to John. Mike probably kept a copy or something knowing him. Mike was a meddling do-gooder at times.

After dry scrubbing his face, clearly annoyed, Sam turned his gaze back on Dean. "You go to the psych doctor, I'll practice with you."

Dean stiffened. "That's below the... I don't need any psych doctor, I'm working through this myself. That's what this sim is about," he pointed out. "If I needed one, would I be here? No," he made sure to answer the question himself. "Practice with me. Come on Sam, do it for me and I'll... I'll fracking play with your cat."

Although Sam was amused by Dean's offer, he stuck to his guns. Folding his arms across his chest he shook his head. "No. You need to deal with this and flying a sim won't handle everything. You're going to have to take a psych exam before they let you fly again. If you start going now, it'll show them you're not repressing crap and you'll be flying again that much faster. For every centar of sim practice I fly with you, you'll talk with a psych doctor. I don't care if you make thirty centon appointments, but just like you made me go, like you asked me to go, I'm asking you to do this for me."

"It's not the same." Dean took a step toward him. "They didn't have me there that long. I wasn't in cryo, followed by reconditioning or whatever the hell they called what they did to you on Thiros. Look at me. Tell me you think I have a problem in my head, that I need a shrink." He was certain, beyond certain Sam wouldn’t say the words, because they just weren't true.

"I'm not saying you're crazy, and I'm not saying it's anywhere near the same for you," Sam agreed. "I've got more issues than there are ships in the fleet. I'm not saying you need years of therapy. I do think you need a couple months of going a few times a week the first month, and probably once a week for the next month or so. They'll help with your nightmares, they'll help you get over your problems with light and sudden noise and other things that remind you of being held by the Cylons a lot faster than if you try to deal with it on your own." He didn't add that he thought Dean needed to talk about his mother's loss and the issues he was now having with his father, but he hoped the psych doc would help with that too. "Once you get through with it...then I'll take the trade of you playing with Shadow."

He crossed the space between them and cupped the side of Dean's face with his hand, his hazel eyes begging. "Please, just a few months."

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it. His gaze shifted away, but when he looked at Sam again, he gave a nod. "In a week. We'll see how it goes." If Sam hadn't already been back in treatment, he'd have demanded that too. "Now get your ass in the viper and keep mine safe." Leaning in, he kissed Sam, just a light kiss to soften his words.

Sam smiled a little. A week. Just like when he had demanded a week to find himself, Dean wanted a week to see if he needed help finding himself.

"All right," Sam agreed reluctantly. His smile suddenly turned into a smirk. "You always were asking for me to take you for a ride in my viper. I never figured I'd be flying in one beside you." He gave Dean a level gaze. "So who gets to be the senior pilot?"

"You never gave me one, so here's your chance to make it up to me. Go for it, you're old and set in your ways, I'll follow and be flexible... sinfully flexible," he added, thinking tonight might be the night he'd collect on Sam's promise of three nights ago.

He didn't expect Dean to give up the position of being the senior pilot and blanched. Dean was enough of a control freak that for him to let Sam be in charge...maybe he was just afraid he'd call for maneuvers that Sam didn't know and that might damage Sam's confidence. He didn't miss Dean's turn of phrase, either.

"Hah. I'll wear you out, young 'un," he told Dean with a lot more confidence than he felt. He'd gotten back in the viper because he had planned on going after Dean by himself. He hadn't expected anyone else to so he had to be able to do it and he forced himself to get through it because there wasn't any other choice. He took a shaky breath, climbed into the cockpit, and ran through a quick preflight.

"Ready?" he asked Dean, his voice cracking just a little. Frack, he did not want to do this.

Dean closed his eyes against all the lights from the console, gathering his wits. "If it's any consolation, I'm afraid too," he said. "Yes, let's do it." Reaching for the controls, he waited for Sam's orders and within centons, they were in the middle of simulated open space.

They started out slowly, getting a feel for how each other flew, testing each other's reactions. Although they weren't pulling any gees, the system alarms would still sound when they grew close to exceeding safety margins. More than once Dean found himself startled, jerking the joystick or twisting it unexpectedly. Sam soothed him, coaxed him after each one of those times, then he'd push them both again, forcing Dean to grow accustomed to sudden alarms and warnings sounded by the viper's computers. He heard Dean's soft curses and knew that sometimes they were directed at him.

When the alarms sounded indicating approaching enemy craft, both men had their own issues with being startled, fear, and panic. Sam locked up at one point and it took Dean's encouraging words to coax him back into the game.

They ran several sims and with each sim both grew more comfortable with each other's flying styles and a sense for what would trigger a bad response. By the same token, both men 'died' a handful of times. That only seemed to make each more determined during the next run. By the ending scenarios they were becoming a team, having a sense for where the other would be and reacting to each other wordlessly.

* * *

After running the simulations, they'd both needed to get their minds off it. They hadn't spoken about their internal trauma from facing their demons, but it was there, beneath their smiles and careless shrugs and their jokes. They'd eaten dinner at a quiet restaurant and then gone to see a movie. A drink before bed was something Dean would have liked, but he was restricted both because of what he'd gone through and the medications he was on.

By the time they got to bed, it was quite late and it was the longest time span that Dean had been up and around for. He was exhausted and announced he would sleep like Sam's monstrosity, also known as Shadow. There was a certain amount of false bravado in what he said because both of them knew he hadn't had a nightmare-free night yet.

*

A pool of white light surrounded Dean. "No, please," he pleaded brokenly, though he knew nothing would stop them, nothing but complete surrender. The first current went through his body making him jerk violently as he screamed. It was merciless and hard, cold, just like the creatures of the instrument of torture. Every neuron in his body pulsed and mis-fired, sending screaming messages of pain to his mind.

Drenched in sweat, Dean braced right before the white light hit him again. His teeth chattered, the enamel almost crumbling. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose. His throat was raw and tender, yet his screams didn't abate. He cursed, and then he pleaded for death. His heart tumbled, then seized. Pain shot across his chest.

The way of the warrior is paved with loyalty.

Pain burst from every cell in his body, had him arching away, but there was nowhere to run. Pain begot pain. There was only one escape, a metallic voice droned over and over. One way to stop the pain.

Courage to sacrifice everything. His father's voice countered the robotic invitations to stop the pain. Demanded he uphold his warrior oaths. Told him no son of John Winchester would break. That he would not listen to Dean's pained pleas.

Dean started to convulse, shaking uncontrollably, his eyes rolling back into his head, his screams drowning out the Cylon voices.

Sam woke to Dean's violent tremors and scream. He twisted around and shook Dean frantically. "Dean!" he shouted but Dean was too lost in his terror to hear him. He knew and understood it. He remembered how Dean calmed him and pulled him free of the horrors of sleep. He wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him, running a soothing hand along his sweat drenched face but got little response.

"Come back to me Dean, come back to me!" he demanded, kissing Dean hard again and pulling Dean into a tighter embrace, lovingly caressing the body that was almost rigid with fear.

There was a moment of unexpected peace for Dean, but it was swept away just as suddenly and the pain returned tenfold. Suspended in the air, he shook and jerked, trying to get away from it, but there was nowhere to run, no way to run. Cylon voices whispered in his ear, one word was all it would take to stop it. His father shouted in the other, commanding him to take it, to take the pain.

He shouted louder, felt the metallic tinged spit foam in his mouth. His heart burned and was about to explode. He wished it would, wished it was over, but it went on and on. There was no break, just the hard white light and death, tantalizing him, beckoning him, but always out of reach. "Noooo! Noooo!" he shouted, the convulsions so strong he bit his tongue. The next shout he heard was really a whisper. "Yes... okay... yes. I'll give it to you, give you anything."

Sam struggled to keep Dean from thrashing so much he would hurt himself, but he didn't want to hold Dean so tightly it would only make the nightmare worse. The nightmare was obviously deepening as Dean arched and whimpered, shouted denials, fighting those metal monstrosities in his mind. Then Sam heard it and choked back his tears.

"No, baby, no, you didn't give in to them," he whispered to Dean as he kissed away his tears then kissed him firmly on the lips. "Wake up Lover, you're safe now, it's over, it's all over. You're home. You're safe with me, in my arms. Wake up," Sam begged but Dean still seemed lost. He finally added softly, "Sin needs you Dean. Sin needs you. Come back and save Sin."

He heard the voice but thought it was a dream. Thrashing, he started to plead. "Kill me... let me die... I don't want this... I take it back, I take it back." He wanted the pain, he'd do anything to have that back, in place of the guilt, in place of his father's eyes filled with disapproval, instead of his warriors’ refusals to look at him. He gripped something, tried to push it away, tried to get up but a weight was over him.

The voice was back. He shook his head. "How Sin? I can't even save myself." But his hands searched, looked for Sin as he started to come out of the darkness.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he took Dean's hands, ignoring the bruises he had received in his effort to keep Dean under control. "All you have to do is wake up and tell him you love him. That'll save Sin. Sin needs you. Sam needs you. Just wake up and come back to us, to me."

He watched in the dimly lit room, his breath caught in his chest, waiting for Dean's eyes to open and the last of the nightmare to fade. He prayed Dean wouldn't remember it, fearing Dean would begin to believe it had happened, that he had given in like Sam had.

Dean opened his eyes. A part of him knew where he was, that Sam was with him, on top of him, and that he was safe. Another part of him remembered the pain, and worse. "I..." No, it wasn't true. Was it? Had he? He started to shake again, haunted by his own voice echoing in his ear. 'yes... okay...' He started to struggle, to push Sam off, needing to run, to run away from himself.

Sliding his knee in between Dean's thighs, Sam gripped Dean's wrists. "You. Are. Safe," Sam said. "You didn't give them anything but denial and screams. You betrayed no one," he said emphatically, kissing Dean, trying to get him to respond to him, to lose himself in Sam and forget the horrors of Cylon torture and the tricks his mind was trying to play on him.

"Sam?" He was pinned to the bed, but it wasn't agitating him. No, it was grounding him, holding him where he belonged, not letting him get sucked back into the nightmare. Gripping Sam's thighs with his own, he raised his head slightly, kissing him back, desperate to stay here, stay with Sam. He didn't know how long they kissed, but immediately sensed that Sam was loosening his grip and letting his wrists go.

"No," he protested, catching Sam's hands before they strayed too far, pulling them back down on the bed and releasing them. "Please, no," he repeated, tilting his head back and parting his lips in invitation.

Desperation burned in Dean's eyes. He was lost, unsure, and needed to know Sam wouldn't turn away from him. He needed Sam in a way that Sam understood in the depths of his soul. Sam clamped his hands back around Dean's wrists and leaned down, taking that offered mouth, pushing his tongue in and claiming every bit of it, alternating between practically ravaging it, to slow and gentle investigation, from tangling and warring with Dean's tongue, to stroking it and sucking on it.

Rubbing his leg between Dean's thighs, he used his own thigh to put pressure on Dean's cock. "Mine," Sam declared possessively, then began biting along Dean's jaw and down his neck where he sucked that tender skin into his mouth, then slid his mouth over and gently gripped Dean's Adam’s apple in his teeth, before sliding his tongue down between his collar bones, his tongue dancing over and around that notch.

"Mine," Sam said again, briefly gripping Dean's wrists tighter before easing his hold a bit.

Tears stung Dean's eyes. He wasn't sure he should accept this as the truth, that Sam wasn't looking at him like a traitor, or avoiding him. One thing he did know was this was a hell of a lot better than the nightmares. His breath hitched as Sam took control over him, claimed him.

Raising his hips, he ground his cock against Sam's thigh, groaning as his cock surged against Sam's powerful thigh. "Even if I... if I told?" he asked thickly as Sam licked and kissed him, leaving blazing hot trails across his chest.

"You didn't," Sam murmured, focusing on Dean's nipple. He looked up at Dean as he swirled his tongue around and around it, turning it hard. Shifting Dean's arms a little higher above Dean's head, he wrapped his large hand around both wrists. With his one hand now free, he shifted over to the other nipple and worked on it with his mouth while his free hand twisted and pinched the one his mouth had just left. Swiping his tongue slowly back up Dean's chest and neck he sucked and nipped. Reaching Dean's ear, he nibbled it, then ran his tongue around its shell before whispering, "Even if you had, I would still love you and you would still be mine and only mine."

There was something both obscene and arousing in the way Sam worked his hot wet tongue over him, the sucking sounds he made and the timing of his sometimes sharp bites. It had Dean writhing, trying to lift off the mattress to get closer, to press against Sam's mouth each time he broke contact by lifting his head or speaking. "Yours," he repeated, eyes clouding at the sensations running through his body.

Sam pulled back as he reached down to Dean's thickening cock and stared into those need-filled eyes. "I did tell. Do you love me any less? Want me any less?"

"Sam." The whispered word was a deep groan. Panting, Dean tried to make sense of the question. "No, love you, want you," he answered, raising his hips, nudging his now aching cock against Sam's hand. Even as he felt Sam's fist close around him, even as a moan of pleasure was torn from the back of Dean's throat, he questioned. "I... I was only there a few days. Not the same... not the same," his voice rose as Sam squeezed him then started to stroke his fist. "Oh Gods..." he couldn't lift his arms, not even to pull Sam closer.

"If you had told them anything," Sam said, lightly kissing Dean's lips over and over, refusing to let Dean kiss him the way he wanted, "they wouldn't have still been torturing you when we rescued you." With those words, Sam welded his mouth to Dean's, finally giving him what he was begging for.

As he kissed Dean deeply, Sam stroked him with all the skills Sin had ever learned, thumbing his slit, touching and fondling his balls, stroking again then sliding his finger deeper to rub over Dean's hole. He used his leg to push Dean's thighs further apart for better access as need grew in his belly, burning and blazing, fire beginning to run through his veins. He groaned into Dean's mouth as blood filled his hardening cock.

The way Sam roughly forced his thighs wider apart sent a flood of heat through Dean. A choked sound came from him when he felt Sam run his finger over his hole, a hint of what was to come. He bucked up, wrapping his now free arms around Sam, running one palm up his back, the other downwards over his ass. He loved how Sam clenched and released his ass, it made him think of Sam thrusting into him, pushing his cock deep inside and making them one. "Yes... fuck me," he said, only now realizing what he wanted, needed. "Take me, don't wait," he demanded, lifting his hips and pulling Sam's ass down at the same time, groaning as he felt Sam's hard cock slide along his inner thigh.

Dean wasn't like him, he wasn't well stretched, and to simply thrust into him would hurt though Dean's words inflamed Sam and made him want to do just that. But he would not hurt his lover in that way. It was then that he realized that was part of what Dean needed. He needed the pain, pain that would be followed by pleasure.

Using his own precome and knowing how desperate Dean was, he lubed his fingers and pushed two slowly into Dean, scissoring and stretching as he finger fucked him, trying to open him up at least some so he wouldn't tear his lover's tender hole.

Dean hissed, then clenched his jaw and accepted the pain that came with the invasion. He welcomed it, it drowned out all the other noises in his head. The questions, the screams, the demands that he give in, they were almost all gone. It was just Sam and himself, and he knew he could take more pain and if it brought him fully awake and helped him leave the nightmare behind, he would take more of it.

Pulling Sam's hand away, he aligned Sam's cock to his hole, clenching his cheeks around Sam's tip, then loosening them. "Do it, do it Sam. Need to drive the sounds out, the screams. Fuck me. It'll work, I know it will," he said, gripping Sam's hips, rising up and grinding against him, not wanting to take a chance Sam would refuse. "Put it in me."

He looked into Dean's eyes and gave a nod. "Let me get the tip in, I don't want to rip you," Sam said gently, then swooped down kissing him hard. "Then I'll make you forget anything and everything that's not me."

Sam began to stroke and caress Dean's cock, trying to distract and relax Dean as he pushed in slow but steady, grunting as he felt Dean's sphincter resist him, Dean's tension from the nightmare making him even tighter. Once his crown was inside his lover he gave Dean just a moment to accept the burn and stretch, then snapped his hips and buried himself balls deep inside Dean, both of their cries filling the room.

"You're mine. No one's but mine," Sam growled feeling Dean's silken insides clench around him. "So tight, so fucking tight," he murmured, growing even harder inside his lover.

Then he began.

He rolled his hips slowly, hitting Dean's prostate with his cock, rubbing back and forth, stimulating that center of pleasure. His hands were everywhere on Dean, touching his nipples, his cock, his throat, his lips.

Teeth gritted tightly together, Dean refused to voice any complaints over the pain. It was what he'd asked for, what he needed. He wasn't sure if it was to make him forget about Cylon punishment, or because he felt he deserved to be punished if he'd betrayed his people. It really didn't matter, all that mattered was that the blinding pain burned most of his thoughts out of his mind, and then Sam was fucking him slowly, touching him and bringing him to life. He lifted his hips in a silent demand for more, for everything Sam could give him.

"Suck my finger," Sam demanded, pushing his finger into Dean's mouth as he began to rock slowly, moving in and out of Dean. He fucked his mouth, groaning at the suction on his finger as Dean's insides clenched around him in time with the movement of his cock. He watched Dean's face, the dim shadows highlighting his cheeks, making his eyes flash. "Look at me. Only me." He wanted to see his lover and he knew Dean needed one more thing before he took Dean in earnest.

"Lights!" he ordered. The room brightened as Sam pulled his finger free of Dean's mouth and replaced it with his own lips, hitting Dean's prostate sharply as the light blossomed in the room. He felt Dean jerk, his entire body tensing at the sudden light, and felt Dean's nails dig into his back hard enough to draw blood. Sliding his hand up and down Dean's cock, he snapped his hips forward repeatedly, striking Dean's center of pleasure hard with each snap in and drag out of his cock. He pushed his tongue against Dean's clenched teeth. "Let me in," he ordered Dean then crushed their mouth together. As soon as Dean's jaw opened, his tongue was inside. He began to piston in harder but paused to roll his hips clockwise, then counterclockwise, intermingled deep strokes with shallow ones, pinched and twisted his nipples all the while kissing Dean to within an inch of his life.

In that one centon when Dean felt trapped by the light and found himself in the Cylon torture cell, he'd tasted betrayal all over again. He'd shut Sam out, wanted him to get the hell away and equated him with his torturers. But his lover pushed and pushed, demanding, cajoling, hurting and forcing him back to reality, back to Sam. The sharp pain from the pinching of his sensitive nipples had Dean jerking, a sob breaking from the back of his throat. Then he was with Sam, saw only Sam, tasted him, tasted his love, his support, his determination to keep him here.

"Yes," he whispered against Sam's mouth, fighting now, fighting to stay in this reality. "Harder," he pleaded, grunting when he had his way, when Sam drove mercilessly inside him, showed him who he belonged to. Not the Cylons. Not his father. Not the fleet. But to Sam.

He started to kiss Sam back, locking his legs together behind Sam's back, dragging that powerful body back and forth over him. It was as if Sam knew what he needed, moving at a relentless pace, never giving Dean a chance to think, a chance to fall back into that awful nightmare. He lost all sense of time, but he stayed with Sam, clinging to him, running his hands over his lover's body, encouraging him. "Mine. You. Ungh... ungh..." his fingers dug into Sam as he concentrated on how good Sam felt inside him, his hard flesh moving in and out of him, filling him, making him burn, making him need. Too much, too much, and yet not enough. He wanted more, so much more.

Cupping Sam's neck, he kissed him hard, for the first time taking control of the kiss. His tongue moved in and out of his lover's mouth with a desperation that matched the movement of his body under Sam's. He broke the kiss suddenly. "Let me up. Sam."
Knowing Dean was still on the edge, still fighting to keep himself in the now, he was surprised Dean asked him to stop but he honored Dean's request. Dean had to know he was in control, even if Sam's need to finish inside his lover was strong. He could last a long time without coming and if he had to for Dean, he would take the discomfort, so long as it helped Dean, he would do anything.

Dean swallowed as Sam pulled out of him, and before his lover could ask any questions, he rolled over onto his hands and knees. Gripping the headboard, he pulled himself up onto his knees and looked over his shoulder.

Sam crawled forward, sliding his hands over Dean's downy ass cheeks, then caressed the outside of his thighs before moving his hands up to Dean's waist and rib cage. "So beautiful," Sam murmured.

Though he knew Dean needed to be taken, Dean also needed to feel loved and treasured, the way Dean made Sam feel. Spreading Dean's cheeks he moaned at seeing Dean's ready hole. He ran his tongue over it, swirled around the puckered flesh, then pushed his tongue inside, flicking and fucking. Reaching around, he took hold of Dean's hard cock and squeezed, then began stroking in time to the tongue fucking he was giving Dean's hole. He loved the responses he got from Dean, each sound twisting deeper inside him, driving up his need.

Dean was thrusting forward and pushing back harder and harder and Sam knew it was time. He kissed his way up Dean's back until he aligned his velvet steel dick against Dean's hole. He sucked on Dean's neck and when Dean's head turned, before Dean could utter a word, Sam covered his mouth as he drove into Dean, spearing him on his shaft in a single movement. Wrapping one arm around Dean's waist, he continued to stroke him, trusting Dean to keep them steady with his hands on the headboard. He didn't give Dean any additional time to recover as he began ramming into him again and again, making sure to hit Dean's prostate to give him the most pleasure as he stroked him.

He kept both of them on the edge until he knew Dean was sensitized beyond sensitized and so ready to come it would be an explosion. He broke their kiss and pistoned faster and harder still, practically lifting Dean off the bed with each thrust.

"Mine, mine, mine," Sam chanted, feeling himself winding up, feeling his balls begin to tightened. "Ungh," he groaned and with two final strokes shoved deeply into his lover. "Mine!" he shouted as his balls drew up and he filled his lover, his body tense and shuddering. Pulling out a little he shoved back in and continued his powerful release. "Ungh, Dean!" he cried as his whole body spasmed in orgasm.

Fire exploded behind Dean's eyes as Sam's grip became more possessive, matching his verbal claiming of Dean. "Sam... yeah, fuck... Sam!" He answered, pushing back almost brutally against Sam's hips and sweat slicked chest and thrusting into his fist. Pleasure spasmed through him, stealing his breath and his words as he mindlessly moved in synch with his lover, moaning as he rode the aftershocks of his release and felt Sam's hot cum slipping down the back of his leg.

"Mmm, Sammy," he turned his face and gave a tired, fucked out smile. "Didn't know you had 'therapist' on your resume too."

Their lips met. Licking his way into his lover's mouth, he kissed Sam tenderly, whispering words of love each time they stopped to breathe. When Sam finally pulled out of him, Dean turned and tugged him into his arms, kissed him again, thoroughly. He ended up pushing Sam back, so they toppled onto the bed with him on top of Sam. "One thing. You still owe me upside down sex," he said, giving him a look. "I'm seriou--"

Dean's eyes widened as something sharp cut into his ass cheek. "Saaaam," the word held a warning tone. "Tell your damned cat to get off me."

Sam burst into breathless laughter.

Chapter Text

Dean was at his office and Sam was restless sitting in their quarters. Although Dean was still ground, he was on light duty and had meetings to attend, reports to read and other Captainly duties to perform. At least his stamina was growing so he wasn't as exhausted at the end of the day. The doctor had approved Dean to fly the sims, provided he didn't exceed two gees, so Dean had been dragging Sam to the sims with him. If Sam wanted him to keep going to therapy, Sam had to keep practicing with him.

Sam had to admit, he was beginning to enjoy flying again. They both still had panic attacks while flying, but now they intentionally tried to make each other have them so that they could figure out their triggers and deal with them. Dean's nightmares were easing and Sam found his own were abating as well. He knew it was because he had Dean in his arms or vice versa. He knew so long as Dean was there, he felt safe and protected. He was damned glad when they got rid of his cot and Dean's old bed and got a single larger bed. It was a helluva lot more comfortable on many levels and was a confirmation to all that they were more than just roomies.

Going out by himself was becoming easier for Sam. He worked out regularly at the gym now and noticed he had collected a few 'fans' watching him when he was doing his stretches and acrobatics to stay in shape. Dean loved his contortionist-like talents so he wasn't about to let those abilities fall by the way side. He was also taking long walks and when he did that, Shadow came with him, sitting on his shoulder. People were beginning to recognize him--though just as Sam, not as the warrior he had once been. A bit of Sin, or maybe it was the man he had once been, was beginning to return and he was gaining a vast number of acquaintances. He no longer worried about being recognized and that someone would accuse him of his failure.

Unable to relax, Sam went for a long walk with Shadow, and then decided to hit the bar and have a drink. He knew he was going to have to start working soon, but he still didn't know what he wanted to do. He enjoyed talking with people so was considering becoming a social worker. Although he still enjoyed going to the agro ship, he didn't really want to work there. It was too lonely. When he went there, he usually took Shadow with him. and so long as Shadow didn't hurt any of the wildlife, the workers on the ship tolerated the cat's presence. And Shadow loved chasing butterflies and climbing trees. She hadn't quite known what to do when she came nose-to-bill with a duck and quickly retreated to Sam's shoulder.

She was settled on her typical perch of Sam's shoulder. Sam ordered an elixir and sat at a small table. No one raised any eyebrows at the cat's presence anymore. Usually, if he was 'alone,' they would ask Sam where Shadow was, which amused him, their concern over the little robotic kitten's welfare.

Sitting at the bar with some of his pals, John turned his head, watching Sam head for a table. He waited until the guy had his drink before getting up joining him. Setting his glass of fire-water on the table, he cleared his throat. "If you can't have a parrot, get a cat?" He gave Sam a sidelong look. "Care for company?"

"I don't like birds for pets. Not that I ever was a fan of felines. Sin picked out Shadow and Shadow's been good for me." After a moment of hesitation he gave John a nod toward the chair across from him. "So am I going to get a lecture about me and Dean? No, wait. You can only join me if you don't give me any lectures. Agreed?"

"I'm through giving lectures," John answered, pulling the chair out and dropping down on it. "So how's my boy doing?" It rankled, but these days he got his news about Dean second hand. He let out a heavy sigh and met Sam's eyes.

"He's doing pretty good, all things considered," Sam said. He felt a little awkward talking to John about Dean, but he could see the hungry look in the man's eyes for news about his son from the one man who would best know. "He's been going to therapy for a couple weeks now. The docs want to wait another week to make certain there is no brain damage, but all the tests keep coming back negative. He's still a little jumpy, certain things still make him start, but I'm betting they'll probably clear him to fly in a week or two. We're running a lot of sims and he's having fewer and fewer problems. His nightmares are easing up some too."

"That's good to hear." He swirled the liquid in his glass. "He's tough, I knew he'd..." Lifting the glass to his mouth, he knocked back half his drink. "So is he going to avoid me forever?" He gave Sam a piercing look. "That boy's as stubborn as his mother."

"Yes, he is stubborn. He told me to stay out of it between you two. Said you told me about Trish for Trish and me, and that you never considered how he felt. I've tried a couple times to get him to make peace with you, but he shuts me down right away. I don't know, John. Winchesters are good at holding grudges."

"Wessons aren't too bad at it either," John answered drily.

"Learned from a master," Sam retorted, looking at John over the rim of his glass.

"He really believes that." John shook his head. "He has to know better. I would do anything for him. I guess I'm going to have to knock some sense into him. After he's cleared by his doctors." That was it, he didn't do pity parties. "And how're you? Any chance you'll change your mind and join up?"

"Did you really think that Dean and I had anything real when you told me about Trish? Did that possibility even cross your mind? Did you do it for me and Trish or to try to get me to leave Dean?" Sam asked, no venom in his voice. He understood John's upset, he did, but this was the way it was going to be and John had to deal with it. "He just needs to know the truth to that and you are going to have to spell it out to him. Might even have to apologize depending on the answer," Sam said mildly.

He saw John was still waiting on an answer to his question. Stubborn and Winchester clan were definitely synonymous. "I'm doing better," Sam said. "My panic attacks are growing fewer and even when they happen I don't get 'lost' anymore. The part of me that was 'Sin' is pretty much reintegrated, though I still have nightmares that brings Sin out sometimes and Dean has to bring me back to the present. If not for Dean, I'd probably be dead by now. And your shit of a son is making me fly the sims with him. We have an arrangement. I fly the sims, he sees a therapist."

Sam refused to answer John's question straight out because a tiny sliver of him was beginning to think he might someday be able return to the warriors. It wasn't something he could admit to in the light of day. But flying with Dean in the sims, and sometimes when he had dreams instead of nightmares, that hope was there, that he'd eventually be able to do it.

John gave a low chuckle. "There could be worse bargains." It was difficult, seeing his friend and putting his image with Dean. He leaned back, rocking the chair onto its back legs and rubbed the back of his neck. "I figured it was hero worship between you two, going in both directions. I'd have told you even if I thought there was something more, something of substance. You had a right to know. Now..." He straightened, the front legs of the chair hit the floor with a loud crack. "Maybe you're good for each other, maybe you fit. It's still weird, you and my..." he made an impatient gesture with his hand. "But I'm alright with it."

Sam smirked. "Feldercarb. But you're getting there, I can see that you're trying. It's weird for me too when I remember that he's your son, and that he's older than me now, and all of that. You want to talk about screwing with your head on so many levels," Sam said with a small laugh. Sobering some he said, "We are good for each other. There probably was some hero-worship mixed in there but that was well after we'd developed the connection we have." Sam shrugged. "Who can explain love. I certainly never saw myself in a permanent relationship with a guy and I don't think Dean did either. And I do appreciate you telling me about Trishan. I handled it poorly on my end, too. I didn't tell Dean and I should have." Swirling the elixir in his glass before taking another drink he gave John a smile. "You want to hear something really funny? When you came to Dean's quarters and you and I got into it and Dean interrupted? Well after you left," Sam began to laugh then, his eyes filled with mirth, "he asked if you and I had been in a relationship."

The mouthful of liquor John had been about to swallow came out of his mouth in a spray. "The hell you say," he groused between coughs, his eyes demanding Sam take that back. "Not even if you were the last woman in the fleet," he added, pointing a finger at Sam as he wiped his mouth with his other hand. "That boy... He really asked that?"
"Hey, I'm damned fine in drag I'll have you know." Sam smirked at him. "You gave me a look when you left that he didn't get. There were other things that happened--you don't want the details--but he began to fear you and I were more than just friends." Looking at John, he just couldn't resist even if it was wrong on so many levels. "Maybe it was me calling out your name in the middle of...the night." The look John gave him had Sam laughing so hard his side hurt and Shadow had to dig her claws in to keep her perch. "Oh, that was priceless," Sam gasped.

Scowling, John muttered, "Your sense of humor hasn't improved." Draining what remained of his drink, he met Sam's gaze. "Do you remember Locke? He's going to be here for a poker game on Thursday, join us if you want. Just don't make a big deal about his missing eye." He expected a no, but he put it out there.

Locke was alive? Sam still hadn't been able to bring himself to look up the fates of his old comrades. The doctor was encouraging him to, but dammit he was having enough issues dealing with the present. She was right, he knew she was, but he could only promise her 'soon.' He remembered the dark-haired young warrior. He'd been a ladies man, always had a laugh and a smile for everyone, and loved to play practical jokes.

"Why not? I'm sure he'll make a crack about my missing brain," Sam said. "Or me being a pleasure slave." Sam finished off his drink. "I'll think about it. You...you kept wanting to talk to me. So, okay, I'm here. I'm listening. Ready to listen. I think. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Eyes downcast, John stilled. When he finally looked up, he gave a tight smile and shook his head. "The things you said, about being left behind. But I understand now, what they put you through, that you needed a focal point. I'm glad I was it, and I'm ... well, there must have been something right in your training that you fought them all that time. You gave us time," he leaned in and slapped Sam's shoulder. "That's about it, I haven't grown maudlin in my old age."

Sam waved for two more drinks. Giving John an even look, he tried hard to keep any accusation from his tone and keep it matter of fact. He wasn't out to hurt John, but John did need to understand. "I simply told myself over and over that you were coming for me. That in the next centon that door would open and Cylon gyros would be grinding and exploding. Then the next centon. Then the next. I hung on to my belief in you. In the cell, it was always that you'd be there before they came back for me. There was nothing special in my training. Just my belief in you."

He nodded his thanks as the waiter set down the drinks for them and pushed John's a little closer to him.

"I came for you," John's smile was pained. "Never doubt that. Just like I went for Dean and would have gone against orders, I did go for you." His fingers closed around his glass. "Cheers." Lifting it, he took a long drink. There were some things, details, he didn't want to give. Never would. He'd done what he could, what was necessary. He'd failed, it was as simple as that.

"John," Sam said with a sigh, "we'd have probably never rescued Dean without me knowing what I know about basestars. How many successful rescues have ever been made from a basestar? Very few. Ground bases, yeah. Basestars? Unless you know how to get in, about their sensors and alarms, and where they keep their prisoners, the other rescues were pure luck or a whole lot of distraction where the Cylons were more concerned about survival than the prisoner.

"I know you came for me. At least, I know you tried. There comes a point you have to cut your losses, plain and simple. I don't want to know how many died trying to save me. I've got enough guilt I'm hauling around. It's bad enough...I know you were court-martialed, you went to prison for disobeying orders, for trying to save me. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have taken it that far." Sam met his former commander's eyes and saw John's clear opinion of that. John would have done it all over again, even knowing what it would cost him. Sam nodded once and let it drop. It was in the past. They both knew what it was like to be behind locked doors with no escape.

"When I first arrived here, when I first saw you here, you couldn't have told me that you came for me and had me believe you, because I needed to believe otherwise. Don't blame yourself that you couldn't get me out. I was a warrior. Death or capture, it's part of the deal. I accepted the risks when I signed on and every time I went out, including when I took that mission. I'm alive. I'm free, and I'm healing. I'm here now because you ingrained in your son never to leave anyone behind and he convinced me to leave Thiros with him." He lifted his glass and took a long drink that matched John's. "So how did I get back to quarters the other night anyhow?"

"Last I saw you, you were half naked and in Michael's arms," John shrugged. "You know I pretended not to see that."

Sam shut his eyes. "Oh, felgercarb. I hope I didn't kiss him." Opening his eyes he looked at John. "Would you, uh, define 'half naked?' And tell me I didn't dance."

"Wish I could." Spreading his hands, John shook his head. "What happens when you're drunk stays between you, me and the fifteen or twenty other people at the bar. I wouldn't worry about it getting out."

Groaning Sam took another deep gulp of his drink.

Sam and John talked for a while longer, and Shadow finally had enough of being ignored and hopped down on the table. She made an appropriate nuisance of herself, sticking her nose down in John's drink, snuffling back into it with an annoyed look on her face. She batted a few things off the table, attacked John's hand at least twice, meowed and hissed and pounced on things until Sam finally scooped her up and put her back on his shoulder, but laughed at the sheer annoyance he saw on John's face.

"Dean'll be getting off work soon and I promised him I'd pick up dinner. I'll think about coming to the game," he said, finished off his drink and headed out, softly praising Shadow for irritating John.

After picking up dinner he returned to his quarters, bags in hand. He saw that Dean had beat him home and was reading some hardcopies of something, a strange look on his face. "I got dinner. They were out of apple pie though, so I got cherry instead." He set the bags on the table. Shadow hopped down onto the table, then the chair, and the floor, scampering off to find a toy. "What are you reading?"

"Cherry's good. What...." he licked his lips and looked up at Sam. "You know I'd rather you were a kept man than this. I don't... yeah, I don't think I could take this. I mean," he looked down at the papers, and shuffled through them. "I see there are services that are less than the whole 'cherry pie' but ah... I don't want to share my whipped cream, either, Sam."

Sam gave him a curious look. "What in frack are you talking about? Take what? And sharing your whipped cream?" He walked over and took the papers from Dean's hands and started reading them. His eyebrows lifted as he scanned over them. He looked up at Dean, a little shocked. "I never even inquired about a job on the Rising Star! I swear! And if I did, it wouldn't be as a socialator or pleasure giver! I don't have any desire to..." he looked at the papers and shrugged helplessly, "...share my whipped cream with anyone but you." Taking another glance at the papers his eyes opened a little wider. "By the Lords, that's one helluva salary." He shook his head. "No, I don't wanna be a kept man, but this is not on my want-to-do list no matter how many cubits they offer me."

Dean let out an audible breath of relief. "Good. I thought I'd be spending all my money on you just so no one... yeah." Getting up, he wore a much happier smile. "Not that I have anything against the profession." Wrapping one arm around Sam, he kissed him, then leaned further, opening the bag with one hand as he was curious to see what was inside. "Not even as a dancer, right. Or masseuse... I think that would end me."

After kissing Dean back, laughter bubbled out of Sam as he imagined Dean shelling out cubit after cubit for his services. "I got burgers like you wanted, but tomorrow night's my choice and we're having pasta. So you don't even want me dancing or giving out massages, huh? You're so selfish." Sam wrapped both arms around Dean's waist and grinned. "I like it."

"Yeah, well," Dean brushed Sam's lips with his, "I've seen your effect on people. My life would be a nightmare of duels and death threats." He kissed the corner of his lover's mouth. "We'd have less time for sex. I'd get all frustrated and get crabby. It would be a galactic fuck. So you're stuck with me. Just me, my burger, and my cherry pie. I have some ideas for the sauce."

"Less time for sex? No, no, no. We don't have enough time as it is. I mean, we're lucky to get in three rounds a day." Sam leaned down and nipped the side of Dean's neck then nuzzled him. "Ideas for the sauce, eh? Are you," he asked, straightening and giving Dean a suspicious look, "threatening to pop my cherry?"

"Huh... oh. Are you asking me to role play?" Dean grinned. "Sure I can do that. I'll be the devastatingly handsome captain of the red squad, and I'll do my best to seduce you, a naive, young, inexperienced, potential candidate," he cupped the side of Sam's face and dropped his gaze to his lips. "Give you a taste of something you'll return for, until you join. How am I doing?" he asked, his thigh now pressing and rubbing against Sam's cock.

"Making it hard, very hard, to resist you. But dinner's getting cold. Food. Then dessert, sauce and all," Sam murmured. He leaned forward and crushed his mouth against Dean's. He groaned and broke their kiss. "Food. Food first," he scolded Dean, though he was really scolding himself.

"Okay. But I have a new kink, just warning you." He pulled away and sat down, but looked up at Sam as he wiped a thumb over his very wet and very kissed mouth. "You in a uniform." Grabbing the bags, he pulled the burgers and criss-cut potatoes out. "Mmmm, you're right, feed our faces first," he agreed, the smell of food causing his stomach to rumble. He unwrapped his burger and took a huge bite.

"The only uniform you'll get to see me in is of the birthday variety," Sam said pointedly, sitting down across from Dean. "I've been invited to a poker game Thursday night...would you come with me?"

"Poker game?" Dean tensed slightly. The invite could be from anyone. Sam had now made friends other than Trishan. He needed to let that go, Sam could have anyone he wanted as a friend, including her. "You mean by Trishan?" He did his best to sound casual. "Alright." If it killed him, it would be alright.

Though he was pleased Dean was willing to go even if he thought it was Trishan who'd done the inviting, he figured Dean might well renege when he told him the truth. "No, John. One of my old squad is going to be there. Locke."

Dean's eyes turned slightly hostile. "You go ahead, you should see him." Sensing he might be ruining the mood here, he tried to joke. "Besides, I wouldn't want to crash your 'grumpy old men' party. Mmm, these are good. I haven't gotten food from Moren's in forever."

Sam sighed to himself. "Dean, if during the next attack your dad was killed, would you regret not making up with him? Don't answer. Just think about it. And I'm glad you like the dinner choice. It's a fracking long walk just to get you your special burgers you know. I expect a great big thank you for it, too." He leered at Dean. "A big thank you."

"Keeps you in shape for me. And you'll get my big with your cherry pie, it's a promise," he leered right back, deliberately refusing to acknowledge the rest of what Sam said. It was better to concentrate on the positive, and the positive was sitting right across from him. He caught one of Sam's knees between his own. "Eat faster."

"I keep in shape," Sam protested. "I go to the gym every day now." He took a big bite of the burger and feeling Dean's knees catch his own, he chewed and swallowed, then laughed. "I'm eating, I'm eating, but I'm not going to inhale it. I didn't walk all that way there not even get a chance to enjoy the food. Besides, half the fun is in the tease." He ran his tongue around his lips, licking away the ketchup and mustard, but making sure to do it slowly, giving Dean the tease he promised.

"Keep it up and I am never going to get upside down sex." He gave Sam a stern look, but his gaze was focused on his lips and the urge to kiss him, to toss the food aside and just have his way with Sam was getting stronger. "Here, have some of mine." His voice was husky as he offered his ketchup smudged thumb to Sam.

Gaze shifting to Dean's thumb then back to Dean's eyes, Sam grinned. "I do that and we won't finish our dinner because I won't be stopping with your thumb," he promised. "And whose fault is it about the upside down sex? Impatience has your picture next to it in the lexicon."

Bringing his hand back, Dean licked his thumb off as he thought about Sam licking other things. He gave a snort. "And 'temptation' has your picture next to it, so it’s not my fracking fault. It's not even what you do, it's what you say, how you say it, everything has a double meaning and... and...." His gaze strayed to Sam's long middle finger sliding back and forth on top of the table. "Ah..."

"You just have a dirty mind," Sam said, amused his finger sliding had Dean entranced. He loved teasing Dean in subtle ways. He had spent almost three yahrens being a pleasure slave. It wasn't always intentional, the things he did, and it was training. Getting patrons hot and bothered was his job. As Dean was his sole interest at this point, Dean received all of his attention in that regard. And he loved every micron of the reactions he elicited. Picking up a potato he bit into it and gave a little sound of pleasure. "Mmm, nice and crunchy."

"You're just imposs--" Getting up and leaning across the table, Dean caught the other end of the potato Sam had started to put into his mouth for a second bite, and nibbled on it until their mouths met. Rubbing his lips across Sam's, he put his hand over his lover's and rubbed his own middle finger up and down.

When he pulled back and sat down, he had one thing to say. "Eat. Faster."

Laughing delightedly, Sam nodded. "Yes sir, Captain, sir."

Sam didn't quite keep up with the way Dean wolfed down his food, but he decided he was done enough and pushed away from the table.

"Don't think I can wait any longer," he said getting to his feet and pulling Dean up and into his arms. Rubbing against Dean he began to kiss him deeply. He had a feeling they wouldn't make it to upside down sex tonight either. They'd be lucky to make it into the bedroom.

The lights suddenly went red and the claxon sounded. Dammit. The Cylons had backed off for a while after Dean's rescue, but they had begun to make periodic attacks again. Sam tightened his arms around Dean but Dean pulled back and broke their kiss. "No, Dean, you're grounded. You can't fly yet," Sam insisted.

"Might be needed, you know we're short on warriors." He adjusted his pants which had grown tighter in the course of a few centons, then went to the sink to quickly wash his hands. "I'll let you know if I'm assigned to fly. It'll be fine." Sooner or later, he had to move out of sims and into real battle.

"You won't do anyone any good if you go out and pulling some gees gives you a stroke," Sam said darkly. "'Then they'll be down one more warrior permanently. It's only another six days, maybe only five. Don't do it, Dean," he begged. "Go to command, help them there."

Drying his hands, he stopped next to Sam, dropped a kiss on his lips, and headed for the door. "Just make sure there's cherry sauce left." He gave Sam a grin. "You know there's nothing that will stop me from coming back for that." Crossing the threshold, he started to run.

Sam went to the door and stood in the doorway, out of the way of the rush of the people in the halls, and watched Dean disappear, lost among the other tan uniforms. He thumped his fist into the door frame. He knew, they both knew, that if Dean felt he was needed, he would be in a viper, doctor's orders be damned. Shadow wove around his legs and mewed. Sighing heavily, he picked her up and stepped back into their quarters. "Once things have gotten underway, I'll go to the sims and watch the battle," Sam told her. Sighing again he settled onto the couch, wondering if his words about John would even cross Dean's mind. Shadow wriggled free of his hands, retrieved the toy and jumped back up onto the couch with it in her mouth. He smiled and reached for the toy.

* * *

Two days later, Dean had come home to find his quarters empty. A note reminding him of the poker game sat on the table. He picked it up and tapped it on the table. See you there. That's what the note said. He could imagine Sam's voice, with a hopeful tone to it and maybe a question mark.

After giving it some more thought, he walked out the door. He had mixed feelings about seeing his dad. Out of habit, or so he told himself, he always checked on the status of the commander of the silver spars squad. Occasionally, they'd run into each other during meetings and when his father wasn't looking, Dean would catch himself looking at the older man. He remembered, remembered well how much he looked up to his dad, loved him in a way he could never put into words. Maybe that's why his betrayal hurt so much, he hadn't been expecting it from those quarters. He hung onto his anger, it helped him through the day. It was a thousand times better than the hurt he nursed under it. A thousand times better.

When he reached the private room off the bar, he saw several tables had been set up and many were filling up with people. He easily spotted his lover among them. Sam was very animated as he talked. It made Dean smile, he liked seeing Sam socialize, loved how confident he seemed to be in most settings now. It was weird seeing him laugh with his dad though.

Locke said something to his father, and Dean suddenly felt like whatever Locke said would have his dad turning around. Panic, or something close to it, welled up in his chest. Turning on his heels, he walked out and headed straight for the bar. "Something strong. Your strongest."

Sam had seated himself so he could see the doorway, hoping that Dean would change his mind and come. When it got right down to it, it was his fault Dean and his dad had the argument that led to the estrangement. Certainly he wasn't the only guilty party, but he was at the center of it and he desperately wanted to fix it, especially when he remembered the look in Dean's eyes when he'd taken Sin to the games aboard what had been John's ship in the time of peace. He'd been proud of and loved his father and he wanted Sin to like John. Now anger was the rule of the day when it came to the look in Dean's eyes at the mention of John.

He'd been laughing and joking with those at the table, telling Michael about some of the mischief he and John had gotten into before John went and got all promoted and respectable. Locke was adding to the story when Sam caught a glimpse of the figure he knew so intimately. "Fold," he said, tossing his crap hand down on the table and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll be right back."

"Since when did you have a bladder the size of a walnut?" Locke called after him.

"The same time they discovered you had a brain the size of a pea," Sam tossed over his shoulder as he headed out of the room. He was relieved to see Dean hadn't left but was at the bar getting a drink. Maybe he just wanted to pick up a drink before joining them.

"You came," Sam said, pleased. "Come on in and be my lucky charm. I'm losing all my hard earned cubits in there."

Dean gave a short laugh, eyes meeting Sam's as he leaned on the bar. "Maybe you need a better prize, you know, incentive to win." His gaze darted to the private game room and back. "I don't know. I don't know about this."

"Maybe I've just been watching for you instead of concentrating on my cards," Sam said. Stepping up next to him, he put his arm over Dean's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "C'mon, I'll make it worth your while if you'll at least try. Give your dad a second chance. For me?"

"You don't fight fair," Dean said, closing his eyes as he felt Sam's warm breath skim over his ear and cheek. Closing his hand around the drink that was placed in front of him, he knocked some of it back, then turned. "For you, not him," he said in a clipped tone.

"Of course I don't fight fair," Sam whispered and stole a quick kiss. "What fun would that be? But you have to try, really try to give him a chance." Glancing around and seeing that no one was paying them any mind, he kissed Dean harder, slipping his hand between them and brushing it over Dean's groin discreetly. "I'll really make it worth your while." Grinning knowingly, he headed back towards the game room, glancing over his shoulder at Dean and giving him a heated look.

"Sam!" Dean let out a rush of hot breath and told his body to behave as he followed behind Sam, catching up. He focused on the group at the table generally and didn't specifically meet his father's gaze, though he felt its crushing weight. Greeting everyone, he pulled a chair out, turned it around before straddling it and leaned on the back of the chair. "Just here to watch," he responded to the calls that he play. His knuckles were where white as he gripped his glass, but otherwise he looked relaxed.
Reaching under the table Sam gave Dean's thigh a light squeeze before returning it to the table top and began picking up his cards. He tossed in his ante and looked at his cards. "Hey Locke, you remember when your viper was painted with green stripes instead of red after you got totally and completely toasted at Marsin's bachelor party?"

Locke scowled. "Yes. And I know you were behind it."

Sam burst into laughter. "No. Told you before it wasn't me." He swung his head and looked at John. Locke looked between the two men. "Commander? But you read me the riot act for my viper not being up to code!"

John gave a shrug matched with a smirk. "It wasn't. Stripes are supposed to be red. Unless, you know, someone pukes all over a certain commander. I was just making sure you knew just how green at the gills you looked."

"Told you," Sam said smugly. "And I seem to recall a certain bet about that. Some fifty cubits?"

"That was over twenty yahren ago!" Locke sputtered.

Sam held out his hand. "Be glad I'm not demanding interest. Pay up, dude."

Rolling his eye and grumbling, Locke tossed him the gold rectangles.

Sam dropped one of them into the pot. "I love playing with other people's money. Raise ten."

Amused despite his mood, Dean found himself chuckling and leaning over to look at Sam's cards. Stories about his dad actually being young and participating in jokes had always fascinated him, why should that change now? He kept his face impassive, making sure not to give anything away about Sam's cards and mentally agreeing with his ploy. "Paying up on a 20 yahren debt," he looked at Locke, with his eye patch, and grinned. "There's no honor among thieves so despite the rumors, you must be more warrior than pirate."

"John, clearly you haven't taught that son of yours to respect his elders," Locke huffed. Dean was the only one who didn't ignore his injury or his decision against a prosthetic, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it though partly amused and partly pissed off probably came closest.

"What are you talking about?" John rumbled. "He just gave you a compliment," John tossed in his cubits. "Raise ten."

"A compliment?" Locke demanded. "How do you figure that?"

"Even if you deny it to yourself, he still sees you as a warrior," John said cocking an eyebrow at the man.

"And ignores the fact we all know you are and always have been a thief," Sam added.

Locke began to sputter. "I had nothing to do with stealing that statue in the academy yard!"

"Of course you didn't. John and I did," Sam said, grinning. "Though it was Grodin who was supposed to take the blame, not you. We did make it up to you. We bought you grog for the next three months and John expunged your file of it as soon as he was high enough in the ranks to do it. Call or raise?" Sam asked innocently.

Locke swiveled his gaze to Dean. "Those two were the biggest fracking troublemakers I've ever known."

"Sneaky, underhanded, double dealing--" Dean's head jerked up. He took a deep breath and covered, "yeah, they must have made your life miserable. You should get an award for surviving them." It didn't escape him that the same two men he was talking about were in his life. "I think the best revenge is to win this game, take all of their cubits."

He lifted the ambrosa to his lips and took a long drink. And the night was still young, dammit.

Sam laughed. "Oh, yes Locke, we made your life miserable. I seem to recall you trading out my shampoo for bleach. I was a fracking blonde for three months."

"It looked good on you," John quipped.

"Yep, just like the blue dye he put in your soap. Blue skin was definitely you." Sam retorted.

"I did not do that," Locke protested. "Marsin did. I call."

Michael glanced over at Dean, laughter in his eyes at the banter between the three men, but saw that Dean was definitely still having issues with his father. "Ditto," Michael said.

Each man discarded cards and Michael dealt them out. Sam, glancing at his new cards, tossed twenty into the pot. "Okay, I want to know who put the acid on the seams of my uniform," Sam said.

John tried to hide his smirk as he slid his cubits into the pot. "I wouldn't know."

"I knew it," Sam growled at him. "I knew you were behind that."

John laughed. "It was priceless when your uniform started falling off you at the bar. First time I think I'd ever seen you blush." He glanced at Dean. "He was so red, he matched the stripes on a viper."

He didn't want to laugh, didn't want to smile, didn't want to give up any of his anger, but it happened. Dean found himself laughing at the image. "It's a lot harder to make him blush these days," he said.

"Seriously Cap, don't need to hear this," Michael said, tossing his cards onto the table. "Fold."

"I wasn't..." Dean rolled his eyes, as if he'd been about to give specifics of his efforts to make Sam blush. "Mind out of the gutter," he ordered. "So, did the Silvers ever figure out what the smell is in their locker room?" His gaze met Mike's laughing eyes.

"Yeah," John said. "Dead fish, in the ventilation. Frenel said he'd take care of getting rid of it properly." He gave Mike and Dean a pointed look. "And you know how Frenel can be. Meticulous in such matters."

"Call," Sam said. He'd overheard bits and pieces of Mike and Dean's scheming but he hadn't realized it was John's squadron they were going after, even if it did make sense. "And no dead fish better show up in our quarters," Sam said, giving John a warning look.

"Raise," John said. "I have no idea what you're implying."

Sam snorted. "That's because some people are just slow. Doesn't mean they're stupid or anything just...slow."

"Damn," Dean cursed under his breath but wasn't too crestfallen. There was always a 'plan B' and in this case, it was fish bits B and C. That smell would linger and get worse until they found all of it. This time, he didn't even look at Mike, these guys were too good at poker and it would be a giveaway.

As the evening wore on, they all drank quite liberally. Dean eventually joined the game and seemed to forget, for the most part, the issues between himself and his father. Maybe it was the easy camaraderie he was seeing between Sam and John, maybe it stirred up old memories or showed him that it was more than that the two men were no longer at each others' throats, but that they had found friendship again.

At the end of the game, the men pocketed their winnings or lamented their losses but made threats of revenge. Dean walked out into the bar area with Michael then waited for Sam, after Mike headed for his quarters.

Sam and John left the game room together, and John was laughing at a crack Sam had made. Sam joined Dean, still chuckling. John stopped a few feet away and gave a nod to his son.

"Glad you're back on your feet," John said to Dean. "You've been missed out there."

Dean searched his father's face, then gave a nod. "Yeah, me too. Missed it, the action." Almost as an act of rebellion, or a test, he put his arm around Sam's waist, never taking his eyes off his dad.

John didn't flinch at Dean's actions. Sam said they loved each other, and really he just wanted both his best friend and his son to be happy. It was weird, it would probably always be weird for him, but as he'd told Sam, he had interfered enough. He had to admit he had sort of been looking forward to having grandkids though. "Now you just have convince Sammy to get back in a viper." He looked at Sam. "We need you too. You're one of the hottest pilots to ever come out of the academy. And no, I'm not going to stop harassing you about it."

Sam rolled his eyes and draped his arm over Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, I know," he said with a long suffering sigh.

Dean's eyes warmed with mischief. "He called you hot. Either you have an effect on straight guys or you didn't tell the whole truth about..." The rest was a secret between himself and Sam, and he'd keep it that way.

"I have an effect on everyone. Everyone likes Sin, remember," Sam teased.

"Not everyone," John said. "Mary was not impressed when she met you."

"She loved me, admit it."

"Hah!" John said. Looking at Dean he chuckled, "He hit on her. She told him to take a hike, she didn't like flyboys. But then one look at me, and she changed her mind."

"No, you badgered her into submission." Turning to Dean Sam said. "You should have seen it. Sent her flowers every day, left her messages, sent her treats. He was positively smitten. I think he just wore her down and she went out with him to shut him up and make him stop harassing her."

"Yeah..." Dean made a face. "Not sure I want to hear this." Despite his words, he was very interested. Not in any details but in generally how his parents had met. "But yeah, I don't think mom was one to be sweet talked," his look was aimed at Sam, "or pressured," this time he looked at his dad. "I think she made her own decision and you both jumped when she told you where to stand."

"Did not!" Sam protested.

"The hell you didn't," John said. "Especially after she punched you and laid you out."

Dean laughed. "You know, I remember her saying she'd done some martial arts. I thought it was a fake memory. I gotta hear this, no I will hear this, all of it," Dean said, despite Sam's groan. "When I'm more sober and can remember all of the details. Guess we better call it a night." He gave his dad a nod and felt more of his hostility slip away.

Giving an evil grin to Sam, John said, "Oh, I'll be happy to tell you the whole story."

"I've got dirt on you too, Johnny," Sam threatened. "Yeah, let's call it a night." He patted his pocket. "Especially since I won most of your cubits." Turning to Dean he whispered in Dean's ear, "I think I've got a long overdue promise to keep. If you think you can be patient enough for us to actually manage it tonight."

"Bye dad." He practically dragged Sam out the door, not caring what anyone thought or surmised. "Don't say a word, don't do anything, I mean it," he told Sam. "No touchy feelies, not till we get home." He wasn't going to get worked up so much that by the time they got home, he'd want Sam the easiest, most straightforward way. Not this time. He'd waited long enough.

Sam laughed, giving John a grin as Dean pulled him out the door and toward the lift. Once inside the lift Sam started to pull Dean close and Dean pushed him back giving him a glare. It only made Sam chuckle. When Sam started to speak, to tease Dean about his enthusiasm, Dean put his fingers against Sam's lips, still glaring. Opening his mouth with the intention of sucking Dean's fingers into his mouth, he was foiled when Dean pulled them away hastily.

"You take all the fun out of a good tease," Sam said, grinning. He could see the lust in Dean's eyes, the desire, and knew it was taking everything Dean had in him not to pull Sam into a mind numbing kiss. When the door opened Dean dragged Sam down the hall at a rapid clip, moving them fast enough it was just shy of running. If Sam's legs hadn't been so long he might have had to run to keep up with Dean.

"Oh there'll be teasing," Dean said, almost grimly as he kept a tight grip on his needs. "You dragging your feet on purpose? Come on 'giganta', double time." The looks aimed in their direction told Dean people thought there was either an emergency or Sam was in trouble. They were right on both counts.

Chapter Text

They finally turned into the hallway leading to their quarters and Dean released his tight grip on Sam's arm, sliding his hand down to instead hold Sam's hand. Squeezing it lightly, he ran his thumb over the back of his lover's hand. "I'm not scheduled to work tomorrow, we can be as creative as we want." He didn't mention the full physical he was scheduled for later in the day.

"I can do creative," Sam said, squeezing Dean's hand back, delighted they could spend the whole night making love to one another. Since Dean had returned from being captured, they tended to cling to each other at different times in the night and often their lovemaking was feverish need. Nightmares plagued them both and when one woke the other up, their need to connect, to separate reality from the nightmare world was strong. Their nightmares had finally begun to ease, but more so for Sam than Dean, probably because Sam had much more therapy under his belt and was willing to let the doctors dig deep into his psyche. Dean, on the other hand, wasn't one to talk about his feelings to strangers, so his doctors' primary focus was on helping to re-acclimate Dean to sudden bright lights, noise, and reflective surfaces. The fact that Dean did make an exception for Sam, that he would talk about his feelings, made Sam feel special and made it easier to talk to Dean about his own issues.

He let Dean pull him inside their quarters and, practically before the door closed, found himself in Dean's arms. He broke the kiss, unable to stop his laughter when he heard Shadow meow with complaint and give a hiss-like huff. Glancing down he saw her sitting nearby, glaring at them.

"I'll play with you tomorrow. You better stay out of the way. Go on to bed and sleep."

She swished her tail with annoyance and stalked back into the bedroom.

"Worse than kids," Sam said then turned back to Dean. "Now where were we?"

"Teasing. I think that's where we were," Dean said, a slow grin spreading across his face as he forced himself to release Sam and backed away, dropping into a chair. "Dance for me," he said thickly, starting to pull his jacket off, his eyes blazing with heat and focused on his lover.

"Dance for you?" Sam said, surprised by the request but the look in Dean's eyes told him he wanted to see Sin dance. He shut his eyes, thinking back to the stage where he danced while everyone watched him strip, remembering how he gave some special attention to Dean. Lap dances, that Dean had never experienced from Sin. He opened his eyes and gazed at his lover. Slowly he walked across the floor, giving a sway to his hips. Reaching Dean, he trailed his fingers up Dean's thigh, passing tantalizingly near his groin, then continued up Dean's chest to brush over his neck. Sam leaned down and licked across Dean's carotid, then nipped him before backing further away. He could see as Dean turned that there was some confusion in his eyes, at least until he realized Sam was going to slip in a music chit.

Turning his back to Dean he ground his hips slowly as he sorted through the chits. He found a couple that he liked and slid them in. Those would be very good to dance to, a nice mix of fast and slow, with good beats. As soon as the music started Sam spun to face Dean who had twisted around to watch him. He kept his gaze locked on Dean as he began his dance.

As he watched Sam intently, Dean could still feel his touch burning into his flesh and wanted more. He'd never thought that a man dancing was sexy, but Sam... Sin... he made it sinfully sexy. Dropping his jacket onto the ground, Dean started to work on the fastenings of his shirt. His hand was not quite steady as he started to react to the show Sam put on, hips grinding, moving in a way that screamed sex, sex, sex. As he watched Sam's hands travel up and down Sam's body, Dean couldn't help imagining it was his own hands running over Sam, touching and groping him, lingering on his favorite parts of Sam's wet dream of a body.

"Come closer," Dean breathed, licking his lips.

Sam gauged the distance and did a handstand, giving Dean the ultimate tease, before bending his arms and rolling down, then up onto his knees. He still kept his distance, out of Dean's reach as he rose to his feet, arching back in the process, arching enough that a sliver of his stomach showed. Turning around he bent over, his pants tightening in the process, and flexed his ass cheeks as he flicked open the fastenings on his boots, but kept a close eye on Dean. He wasn't going to let Dean touch him, not yet, not until he had teased him good and proper.

Sam faced Dean again, arched back and slowly began to go into a hand stand as he used his feet to free himself of his boots. As soon as they were free, he pushed himself all the way over, slid down to the floor and did an undulating pushup as he crept closer and closer to Dean.

It almost killed Dean, having to sit here and watch when Sam was upside down for him, making him think of the other times they'd had sex in that position that seemed to have taken an almost unhealthy grip on his imagination. Calming himself with thoughts that Sam would come closer, that they'd touch in a moment, Dean wasn't half prepared for Sam's next move which ignited his blood. Gaze following Sam's up and down motions low on the ground, "So defiant," he choked out. His hands dropped to the edges of the seat of the chair, curling around it into tight fists.

Pushing up hard, Sam landed on his feet and ran his hands underneath his own shirt, caressing his chest with a soft moan. Slowly he unfastened his shirt with one hand while the other slipped inside his pants and he began to stroke himself. When his shirt fell from his shoulders he caught it and spun it in the air until it was twisted and he grabbed the other end. He used the shirt to caress his body, running the taut rope of fabric across his chest, between his legs, around his back, flexing his various muscles that the cloth ran across. He gyrated and eased his way closer and closer to Dean.

"No touching," he told Dean as he moved in to straddle his lover.

Dean leaned back and instinctively arched the instant Sam's legs bracketed his thighs. He'd been distracted by Sam's chiseled abs and the material of his shirt floating around him, mesmerizing him until he hadn't even guessed Sam's intent. Now Sam's body heat and his unique scent slammed into him, had him practically panting with the need to touch and to taste.

His nostrils flared, but he nodded his understanding, swallowing as Sam lowered over him. The first time his ass skimmed lightly across Dean's hard erection pressing against his pants, Dean moaned softly. "I wish you knew how you make me feel," he said. "I wish I could tell you or show you." But there were no words to describe the intensity with which he wanted Sam with every cell in his body. And no way he could return the favor, 'Mr. Swivelhips' he was not.

"I see it in your eyes, the depth of love deeper than the blackness of space, and sparkle of stars in that look, the heat of a thousand suns that sets me on fire," Sam whispered as he brushed the fabric over Dean's chest. "I hear it when your breath hitches, when you watch me, when I touch you, when you breathe in my scent." He put the fabric between his and Dean's lips and kissed him with the barrier of cloth preventing any actually contact. "I feel it when your hands caress me with gentleness or desperation, when you fill me and we are one. When there is nothing but us in all the universe." He gyrated his hips back and forth, brushing across Dean's groin. "I smell it in the scent of my lover, unique with musk and desire." He pulled his hips back and lightly ran his groin up Dean's thighs and over his groin. "I taste it in your kiss, in the salt and sweetness of your skin, in the flavor of your cum."

Pressing his chest for just a moment against Dean, he could practically feel the pounding of Dean's heart. "You don't need to tell me. I know. Because I feel the same."

Dean watched through heavy lidded eyes as Sam's words washed over him. They were as sensual as his lover's motions and, whether they were as deliberately geared to do so or not, they fanned the flames of his spiraling need. "Taste it now," Dean half pleaded and half demanded, wishing to space the damned shirt that Sam kept using to separate their mouths. His lover kept teasing, kept ratcheting up the tension building inside Dean, testing his limits. "You know just how to wind me up," he said tightly, his hips raising up toward what Sam had forbidden.

Sam continued his lap dance, teasing and taunting, lightly brushing his own hardening cock against the firmness growing in Dean's pants. He put the fabric rope behind Dean's head and held it steady as he rained feather light kisses on Dean's face until he finally reached Dean's lips. He stared into those jade eyes burning bright. Settling onto Dean's lap he smiled lovingly. "Now you can touch me," he said then captured Dean's mouth with his own.

"Yesss," Dean hissed, hands instantly clamping around Sam, dragging him as close as possible, traveling over smooth skin stretched taut over rippling muscles. The instant their mouths met, Dean swept his tongue inside, entwining it with Sam's, tasting him, loving him, wanting more. Cupping the back of Sam's head, he crushed their mouths together harder, taking control of the kiss and tongue fucking his lover with the full force of his lust. Mine. With every cell, every fiber of his being he knew it was so, that Sam was his, only his. And that he belonged to Sam.

The weight of Sam's body, the slide of his ass over Dean's aching dick had him so aroused and needy, it fucking hurt. As they pressed and rubbed their bodies together, kissing in near desperation, Dean started to see white flashes behind his eye lids. Immediately breaking the kiss, he lifted Sam up off his lap. Eyes locking with his lover's, he undid Sam's pants and pulled them down, Sam stepping out of them. His gaze dropped to Sam's hard cock angling up. Dragging Sam close until he felt his arousal pressing into his belly, he pushed him up slowly, loving how Sam throbbed against his chest. Scrunching slightly down on the chair, he held Sam's hips in an iron grip and started to lick and kiss him, his hard flat abs, the indentations of muscles at the juncture of his hips, brushing his cock with his mouth but moving on, teasing Sam with the same ruthless precision Sam had practiced on him. "Love, to touch you," he whispered against his lover's flesh, a groan tearing from the back of his throat as he felt Sam shudder.

"Love to be touched by you," Sam murmured, moaning as Dean's tongue flicked across his flesh. "Frack you are...ungh...too fast a study."

That teasing tongue would have had his hips bucking if not for Dean's tight hold. It was a struggle to keep his knees from softening as Dean worked him, playing his body with perfect precision. Sam couldn't help himself and ran his fingers through Dean's soft short hair, the light scent of Dean's shampoo reminding him of when he had first smelled it on Thiros, a scent that he couldn't place at the time. His hands traveled further down, fingertips caressing smooth skin encasing solid muscle. So different than a woman's to touch, and it still surprised him that the feel of Dean's body set him afire as it did. It wasn't just the feel of Dean's body though. It was Dean. He never thought he could love anyone more than Trishan, but he did. He couldn't get enough of Dean. Not enough of his touches, his kisses, his husky voice whispering in his ear, or moaning in pleasure. Body and soul, he needed Dean, needed to possess him and to be possessed by him.

He wanted more than anything to beg Dean to suck him off, but just as Dean had let him tease, he wanted to give that same gift to Dean.

So responsive. His Sam was so responsive that Dean could just get off on his reactions if he allowed himself to. But not tonight. Tonight he had an upside down date, one he was not going to miss out on. Pulling his mouth away, he splayed his fingers wide across Sam's belly, sliding his hand up and down, mapping his body as his lover arched slightly back and gave him a view that had Dean's gut clenching with need.

His heated gaze raked up Sam's body to meet his eyes. "So beautiful. So fracking beautiful," he rasped, just touching the hard planes of Sam's body as if he'd never get enough. When those hazel eyes grew unfocused enough, he licked his lips, a sense of power coursing through him as he felt he had Sam's full attention. Gripping Sam's hips again, he brought him close to his face and started to lick his cock. Long strokes of his tongue over Sam's hard length had Sam's cock wet and slippery under his mouth. Closing a hand around its base, he started on it again, this time swirling and pressing his tongue hard against the ridge of his crown, pulsing and pressing his lips against it. "Can't wait to suck you into my mouth," he whispered, almost like a threat as he renewed his licking.

Sam's head fell back as Dean's tongue finally went where Sam wanted and needed it to go. His whole body convulsed just a little and he moaned as that wet muscle slid along his cock, caressing it and drawing more blood into Sam's dick. Tightening his fingers in Dean's hair he made himself relax his grip. This was Dean's turn to tease his body and Dean was doing a damned fine job of it. His hands clenched and unclenched as he wanted to run them over Dean's arms and face and chest, anywhere and everywhere. He arched back further as Dean's mouth came so close to taking him into that promising wet heat. Giving a small whimper of need, he thrust his hips forward in an almost silent plea.

Opening his mouth, Dean did as he threatened, sucked Sam's cock deep into his mouth. He held still for a moment, letting Sam wallow in the tight vacuum pressure he maintained for as long as he could. He loved how Sam squirmed and pressed forward, loved the sounds that escaped him. Loved how Sam didn't hide any of his reactions, how he shared everything, all of himself. It was something Dean could strive for.

Grasping the base of Sam's cock, he started to move his head back and forth, sucking his way up and down Sam's hard length. He set the pace, controlled it, and kept a steady pressure around Sam cock as he worked him. With the pad of his thumb, he pressed and stroked Sam's balls, giving his lover a second focus. Tasting Sam's precum, he started to hum, telling him wordlessly how he loved this, his taste, the way he throbbed in his mouth and how hard he was as he slipped in and out of Dean's mouth.

When Sam pressed closer, instinctively Dean knew what he needed. Sliding down just a little more in the chair, he opened his mouth wide and pulled Sam downwards, letting him sink his cock all the way into his mouth and throat. Releasing his hips, he started to stroke Sam's ass and back with both hands, moving them over every part of his body he could reach.

Wasting no time when Dean swallowed his large cock down, Sam began to fuck Dean's mouth. He forced himself to start slowly, eyes shut as he felt Dean's tongue press against the bottom of his cock and give it pressure as he slid in and out. He felt the back of Dean's throat and the vibration of the humming on his tip, that vibration sending shivers of pleasure through him. The wet warm silk of the inside of Dean's cheeks touching his flesh, the slightly rough palette along the top. The base of his cock was at Dean's sweet lips, lips that were wrapped so firmly around his member and pressed against his balls ever so lightly. The caress of Dean's encouraging hands was so loving and giving.

Feeling all of these things he began to increase his pace, letting the sounds of pleasure spill from him as he felt those sensations over and over. He drew it out, wanting the moment to last longer than just a moment. His groans of pleasure grew in volume even as his speed increased faster and faster. The heat pooled and practically burned low in his gut. His hands went to Dean's shoulder as he shoved in as deeply as his lover could take him.

"Gods...Dean!" he cried as his whole body tensed, his balls drew up, and his cum shot forth and down Dean's throat. He pumped twice more as he finished his release, nails digging into Dean's shoulders. Moaning deep in his throat, he absorbed it all as Dean milked him until he softened and pulled out of Dean's mouth, gasping. "You're amazing," he whispered.

Dean's own fingers bit into the backs of Sam's thighs. He'd tensed and fought like hell to keep from coming with Sam, even when he wasn't being touched. That's how much Sam affected him. Making sure to lick him clean so not a drop was wasted, he smiled. "Yeah, I know. C'mere," pulling him down hard over his lap, Dean teased Sam's mouth with his, slip sliding over it, angling his mouth first this way, then the other, then laughing softly as Sam became more aggressive and their tongues tangled together in a perfect rhythm.

The way Dean kissed made him crazy and he finally took control when he heard Dean's laugh. He could taste himself in Dean's mouth and that just made him crazier with lust and need. It didn't matter that he had just come, he needed more, so very much more from the Captain of Red. With a smile he knew Dean could feel, Sam took total control of the kiss, using his finest skills to tangle their tongues, stroking Dean's tongue, fucking his mouth, touching and tasting everywhere. One hand cupped the back of his lover's head while the other brushed over Dean, discreetly working on undressing him. Distraction was his goal so Dean wouldn't realize what was happening until it happened.

Dean's cock was so hard against his ass that Sam writhed over it temptingly. There was little doubt that the man couldn't take much more. He pulled Dean's shirt off him and unbuckled his pants with ease as he continued to kiss Dean to within an inch of his life. Standing, he pulled Dean up with him, finally breaking the kiss, leaving both of them gasping. "Tell me what you want," he whispered in Dean's ear.

His mouth burning, his breath hitching at Sam's hotly whispered words, Dean buried his face in the curve of Sam's throat as he tried to think past his immediate need to be inside Sam. Struggling for control, he remained silent until he could trust himself not to just bend Sam over a table or take him against a wall. He pulled his head up and looked at the pull up bar in the frame of the door leading to their bedroom. It had teased him for a long time, and even though there really wasn't another place to put it, he had a feeling Sam had placed it there on purpose.

He licked his lips, his mind working out what would give him the most pleasure. "The bar," he nodded, "for a little while. "Then handstand... we'll figure it out." When his eyes met Sam's, he knew his lover worked out that they could go at it harder when Sam wasn't swinging off the bar, and it was what Dean needed.

Sam chuckled, proud of Dean for being able to think past his lust to get out what it was he truly wanted. Sam walked slowly backwards toward the bar. "So, the bar. That tempting bar. And what would you like to do to me on that bar?" Placing his hand on Dean's chest, he made him stop, then he continued back. He lowered the bar enough that he could easily slip his legs between it and the top of the doorframe. Grabbing the bar he pulled up his legs and slid them over it until the back of his knees rested securely on the bar. Upside down, Sam looked at Dean coyly.

Not a word escaped Dean.

"You could fuck my mouth while I fucked yours, though you'll have to work me up a little first. Or you could just fuck my mouth. Or--" Sam said and jackknifed up so his hands gripped the bar. His ass was pointed down at the floor. "--you could fuck up into me if you'd like." Tilting his head back so he could meet Dean's eyes, his own sparkled with mischief. "Unless you have some ideas of your own that you'd like to try out?"

Dean gave a choked, "you're trying to kill me, aren't you?" He reached down and only then realized his pants were already undone and he'd lost his shirt. Shoving the pants down, he stepped out of them, gaze locked with Sam's. "Drop down. Please," he added, advancing on him. His eyes roved over every inch of his lover's powerful body on display, just for him. There was silence, the sounds in his own head quieted. It was the lull before a storm.

His nostrils flared as a new rush of heat coursed through his veins. Stepping forward, he closed his arms around Sam's body, pulling him close. Opening his legs slightly, he ground his hips against Sam, rubbing his aching cock against Sam's hard chest, fucking against him as he moved his hands over Sam's body. He pressed kisses into the fronts of Sam's thighs, moaning against his flesh as his need to thrust sharpened. "Mouth," he decided, needing to be inside the silky hot depths of Sam's mouth.

"Mmmm, mouth," Sam replied. "I like it." He reached up and took Dean's leaking cock in his hand, stroking it, using the precum to lube it a little as he brought it to his lips. Licking off the fresh pearl that appeared he made sounds of delight. His other hand he brought to Dean's thigh. Pushing against that thigh he began to swing back and forth. Using the hand he held Dean's thick member with he guided it in each time he swung close. He took the crown in his mouth and sucked, then swung back. Swinging forward again, he ran his tongue down the underside of Dean's cock, flicking his tongue briefly over Dean's balls before licking up Dean's cock as he swung away. Each time he swung, he did something new. He ran his lips along the side, licked and poked at Dean's balls, swallowed Dean's cock fully, ever so briefly, swirled his tongue around the crown, played with his slit, keeping Dean guessing.

"Ngh..." Incoherent words and sounds fell from Dean's lips as Sam used his wealth of trained experience to make love to him only as Sin could. Between the acrobatics, the hot wet slides of Sam's tongue over his needy flesh, and the frustratingly brief moments when he was allowed inside Sam's mouth and given an elusive sample of the relief he'd feel when Sam sucked him hard, Dean was whipped up into a state of frantic desire and need. His groans and pleas grew louder, only to be muffled by Sam's cock when he pressing his mouth against it and Sam's belly. When he was pushed beyond his limits, he dug his fingers into Sam's thighs. "For the love of... please Sam."

Deciding he had tortured his lover long enough, Sam continued to swing as he bobbed on and off Dean's cock. Finally he let go of Dean's rock hard member and placed his palms on either side of the doorway, bracing himself firmly and opening his mouth in invitation.

The instant Sam pulled his lips off and Dean lost the pressure he needed, he gave a deep, agonized groan. Looking down, about to protest, his heart clenched at the sight Sam made in that position. A second groan, this time more of an aggressive growl he barely recognized tore out of him as he stepped close and guided his throbbing cock to Sam's mouth, burying himself to the hilt. Spasms of intense pleasure, almost more than he could endure, slammed into him and had him thrusting almost immediately, fucking into Sam's mouth and throat. Each time his lover sucked around his cock, a deep moan broke from Dean.

Sam absolutely loved working Dean up into the state he was in now. Then when he gave in to Dean and offered up what Dean wanted Dean was so possessive and responsive to everything Sam did. Not that he wasn't at other times, but this was Dean raw and unmasked and positively one hundred percent Sam's. No one else would ever have or had ever had, this part of Dean.

Sam's muscles bunched, tightening his stomach, his arms, and his legs to keep himself as steady and firm as possible as Dean fucked his mouth. The one bad thing about this position was that he couldn't readily run his tongue along the sensitive underside of Dean's member. He had to wrap his tongue around and use his top lip to offer up the additional stimulus to his lover. He sucked as he swallowed Dean down, tasting the salty pre-cum trailing from Dean's slit as he pumped in and out. He let Dean set whatever pace he wanted, giving the man everything he had in him to stimulate and pleasure, humming, moaning, and loving every moment of this. It was torture for him in its own way because he couldn't touch Dean. If he moved his hands to caress his lover's body, he would no longer be able to stay stable for Dean to fuck his mouth like he was doing. He craved to touch Dean's sweat-drenched skin but that would have to wait.

Spiraling out of control, Dean bucked into Sam's mouth, riding it harder and faster, now single mindedly seeking release. White hot heat lanced through him as he got closer. "Fuck!" Dropping his hands down, he gripped Sam's head with both hands, knees bending as he fucked with wild abandon until he came in hot, convulsing spasms. "Sam," he groaned in blissful agony, riding the waves of his orgasm, still consumed by the need to be inside Sam.

"Amazing," he gasped out as Sam opened his mouth, letting his cock slip out. "So fucking good." It was an understatement, a big one. "Can you... can you hold it here another couple centons?" he asked. He answered Sam's questioning look with a smile. "Something I planned to do when you were sucking me off but... damn, you make me forget everything," he said.

Sam laughed softly. "If you're thinking of something other than me and your own pleasure, then I'm not doing something right," he teased.

Straightening, Dean pulled Sam's thighs apart, making the backs of Sam's knees slide to the edges of the bar from which he was suspended. Dipping his head down, he licked Sam slowly with the flat of his tongue, from the seam of his balls all the way to his hole. He swirled the tip of his tongue around Sam's puckered flesh, then pulsed against his hole in stabbing motions that didn't penetrate.

Sam expected Dean to take his cock in his mouth and hadn't anticipated the wet muscle sliding along his crack to his hole. "Ugnh...fuck," he exclaimed as he arched and gripped the doorframe more tightly. Dean was getting his revenge because there was no way, in his current position, he could push against that tongue. If Dean were behind him he could, but not in front of him.

"Evil," Sam gasped, every muscle in him tensed.

"Nah, just keeping up with your creative ways." Gripping Sam's ass cheeks, he pulled them apart slightly and blew air out in a straight line along where he'd painted with his wet tongue. "You know, just to make sure no one else snags you from me." Wetting his lips, he pressed his open mouth over Sam's hole and sucked lightly, then rolled his tongue over his sensitive flesh, eventually opening Sam up a little more and pushing his wet tongue inside.

"Like I said before...too fast a learner," Sam said, moaning at the cool air across his ass. Dean kept surprising him first with his focus then sucking around his hole. He groaned in pleasure as Dean's tongue teased him. When that tongue pushed inside him, he couldn't help pushing up, his arms straining.

"No risk of losing me," Sam confirmed. Sam began to nuzzle at Dean's thigh, biting and sucking as Dean worked him. He had to do something or he'd go crazy.

Pulling his tongue out, Dean looked down. "I just want to be sure, keep you happy. You happy?" He bit his cheek in order not to laugh.

Sam bit into Dean's thigh sharply, growling, "I swear you were a woman in a past life. Tongue fuck me and stop talking."

"Ow!" Giving Sam a retaliatory bite on the ass, he got back down to business. He playfully swirled in a wide circle around Sam's hole, spiraling into ever tighter circles until he felt a shudder rack Sam's body. Taking pity, he pushed his tongue into Sam's warmth, past the tight ring of muscle and started to tongue fuck him, searching for his prostate. From the way Sam clenched around him, he knew he'd found it, and started to make sure to brush or touch that spot with every alternating stab of his tongue. Each time he drove his tongue inside, each time he felt Sam's reactions, heat washed over Dean's own body, as if it was his cock inside Sam. He wanted to take Sam now, like this, wanted to make him his all over again.

Sam grinned at Dean's bite, at least until that wonderful tongue started twirling 'round and 'round his hole again and he stiffened, closing his eyes in sheer enjoyment. While a slave he had occasionally had those that wanted to give him the most pleasure they could but that was infrequent. Most liked to hear him moan and groan and see him writhe, but they were still the focus of attention. To have Dean do this, solely concentrating on him, was a gift each time it happened that Sam didn't think he could ever fully express to Dean.

Pushing his face down, Dean plunged his tongue deeper, probing, stroking and setting a faster rhythm. Very aware of the hard line of Sam's now aroused cock pressing into his chest and throat, he made sure to rock against Sam's trapped flesh. They were barely moving, Sam because he couldn't, and Dean because only his tongue was working Sam. Maybe that's what made it more intense, Dean didn't know anything other than he felt like he was drunk on desire, drunk on need, drunk with wanting to get Sam off, to make him shout his name.

Lifting his head slightly, Dean licked his middle finger and sank it inside Sam's wet hole. Mesmerized, he watched his finger disappear in and out between Sam's cheeks, making sure to curl his finger slightly. The way Sam's ass cheeks clenched and released had him imagining it was his own cock that Sam was squeezing, his cock that was eliciting these sounds from Sam. "Want another finger, want me to fill you?" he rasped.

"Yes, more," Sam moaned, desperately wishing he could slide up and down on the finger.

Pulling Sam open wider, he inserted his ring finger and allowed him to get used to the thickness of two fingers before he gave him a third. Penetrating him as deeply as he could, he started to lick and suck Sam's balls, sometimes licking the base of the underside of his cock, playing with him even as he fucking him hard with his fingers.

First Dean trapping and pressing again and again against his cock, finger fucking him all the while, had him letting out little whimpers of pleasure. When Dean's tongue began playing with his cock and ball, he convulsed, momentarily losing his grip on the door frame, epithets spilling from his mouth between his obscenely loud groans. He wanted to wrap his arms around Dean but knew that would throw Dean off balance. Dean's cock was there in front of him though and he could tell Dean was beginning to slowly swell again. He shifted the tip into his mouth before pressing his hands back against the doorframe. He sucked and played with Dean's crown. Every time Dean did something particularly pleasurable, he responded by sucking Dean deeper into his mouth briefly, letting Dean know how good it felt.
"Evil," Dean whispered, mouthing Sam's balls and biting back a moan of pleasure as his cock was wrapped in the silky warmth of Sam's mouth. In a way, it was pure torture for both of them, neither of them able to thrust or gain much leverage. Only the sheer will to give back to his lover prevented Dean from taking Sam's mouth again, and forgetting everything else. He had to believe it was the same for Sam. He learned exactly what Sam wanted, how he wanted to be pleasured. It was incredible, hearing or feeling Sam's reaction and then being rewarded in a way that set his blood on fire all over again. Very quickly, he was worked up to the point of needing release again. Fucking steadily but lightly into Sam's mouth, he grasped Sam's cock with his free hand and started to tongue fuck the slit at his crown.

Sam had often wondered if one could die from pleasure, though in his yahrens at Thiros there had only been a few times hearts had given out and thankfully, never with him. He was glad all the same he had a strong heart but it was thumping out of control as Dean's fingers slid in and out of him, brushing his pleasure center and making him shudder. He could see he was working Dean up quite a bit as well, and when he got Dean to actually gain a rhythm, he knew Dean was hooked. He was also pleased Dean was a fast learner because his lover seemed to catch on pretty fracking quick to what did it for Sam the most.

And then Dean went and surprised him again. He swallowed Dean's shaft fully, sucking hard, his sounds of pleasure muffled as Dean tongued his slit, continued to finger fuck him, and was fucking his mouth. His whole body exploded with need and he felt his cock dripping steadily, or it would have been if Dean's tongue wasn't there to lick the beads away.

Sam pulled off Dean's cock. "Need you...inside," he gasped, his blood burning with that sole desire.

"Wha--" When Sam's words sank in, Dean let out a few hot breaths. "Okay," he said through gritting teeth, trying to hold back as he moved to the side and helped Sam get down off the bar.

They both stood in the door frame, staring at each other with a hunger that shouldn't be possible after all the sex they'd had. Dean realized Sam had to get his balance, or so he told himself, raising a finger up to stop Sam when his lover started to reach for him. "Gimme a moment," he said, first counting backwards, then thinking of the wizened face of his fifth grade teacher. That didn't help, but imagining his father knocking at the door did. "Great... now he's a marital aid," Dean muttered, half miserably, half glad it had helped him regain control over his body.

The sudden rush of blood away from his head made Sam stagger a moment. He could catch his breath then give Dean what he had teased him with these past weeks. He was surprised when Dean made him stop, but knew Dean was struggling to control himself, for Sam. He wasn't sure what Dean was muttering about, and didn't really care. Grabbing Dean's hand he led him into the bedroom, stopping him a good couple feet back from the made bed. He began kissing Dean, slowly shifting Dean into the position and stable stance he would need to be in. He broke his long loving kiss with Dean, smiled at him with pure mischief and lust, and took a step back and went into a handstand which had him facing away from Dean.

"Like I said, evil." Dean stepped forward and separating Sam's legs, close one arm around each of Sam's thighs and slowly walked back a little until Sam was at an angle away from the bed, so that Sam's his ass was aligned to Dean's hips. As he gripped Sam's hips to hold him in place, Sam bent his knees, so that his inner thighs now bracketed Dean's sides and, if he wanted, he could lock his ankles together behind Dean.

Dean's leaking cock pressed into the cleft of Sam's warm ass, teasing Sam's hole. "Knock, knock." His joke was short-lived when Sam clenched his cheeks around Dean's tip and had Dean shuddering with the need to be inside. He wasn't sure which of them was in more of a hurry, but in one smooth thrust of his hips he pushed past the tight ring of muscle and slid home. "Frack... I feel like I'm going insane and we haven't even started," he said pulling out a little and thrusting again. So tight, his lover was so tight around him.

Sam let out with a shuddering cry of 'Dean!' when his lover entered him. This was what he needed, to feel Dean inside him. He clenched around Dean, wrapping that firm shaft in his muscles, giving Dean the resistance he needed for the most satisfaction. Dean didn't waste any time in starting to fuck him, hitting his prostate perfectly, and sending ripples of pleasure ricocheting throughout Sam's nervous system. Sweet, so very sweet and delicious.

"We've barely begun lover. But you're already in therapy, so it's okay," Sam teased, then began pushing back against Dean every time he thrust forward.

"This is my therapy?" Dean asked, his voice strained as he forced himself to keep to a slow pace even if every cell in his body was raging at him to go full thrusters forward and take Sam, get back to the point he'd been just a few centons ago when his cock had been buried in Sam's mouth. "Book me every centar of the day doc, I need help," he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, hissing with pleasure and slowly pulling out. "Lots, and lots, of help." He punctuated his words by slamming back inside and grinding his hips against Sam's ass, his eyes practically glazing over when his lover clenched around him again.

"I know...ungh...you need...help," Sam said as his insides swallowed Dean and for that brief moment they were united in body. Loss seemed to fill him when Dean pulled out, but the pleasure of his return was fresh and new each time. He knew how very much Dean had wanted this and he could tell by Dean's actions it was everything he had hoped for. Knowing that only made Sam's pleasure that much greater.

"Maybe...I should teach you...how to handstand," Sam said. "Mmm, harder lover, take me harder."

Harder. Harder. The word echoed and reverberated in Dean's head, sending his lust into overdrive. Slotting his hips more tightly against Sam's ass, Dean started to thrust, gaining power with each pump of his hips. Surrounded by Sam's heat clenching around him, giving him all the friction he could dream of, Dean gave an agonized moan. The pressure was building inside him, tightening, making him more aggressive as he gripped his lover's hip and forced Sam's body closer, almost making Sam lose balance.

It didn't matter how hard he thrust or how deep he got, it wasn't enough, not for Dean. Almost impatiently, he closed both arms around Sam's waist and snapped, "Move," forcing Sam to walk on his hands away from the bed. The instant Dean pulled out of his lover's body, he cursed at the loss of sensation. Cursing, he stepped around Sam so that he was now between Sam and the bed. helping to keep Sam's handstand steady.

"Knees on the bed," he ordered, supporting some of Sam's weight and thankful he didn't have to say more as he walked back a little more. Sam slowly lowered his legs onto the bed on either side of Dean, going from the handstand into more of a wheelbarrow position.

The sight of Sam's hole, now slightly shiny with lube and his precome had Dean groaning. Gripping his lover's powerful thighs, he entered him with a single thrust, biting his lower lip as sharp pleasure coursed through him. He wanted more, wanted to be deeper, wanted Sam to feel his every thrust not only now, but tomorrow. Putting one knee onto the bed, Dean used it for leverage, lifting himself up higher than he could go if both feet were on the ground, and lowering himself each time he thrust down into Sam, allowing gravity to help him sink as deeply as he could go inside his lover. "That's it... oh gods... this what you want, this what you want?" he asked between harsh breaths, knowing he was pounding into Sam as hard as he could at this better angle.

Dean actually expected him to talk at this point? Sam used his arms to push up and back from the floor, driving Dean in harder. "Fuck," Sam finally managed to gasp out. "Yeah."

The deep thrusts approached brutal, but it was exactly what Sam wanted. He was so experienced, so well trained and used, that for him to feel any real soreness after sex was almost impossible. This, though, this he thought maybe he'd feel and he wanted to feel it. He wanted to know that after they were curled up together, and then when he woke up, that he would still feel that Dean had been there inside him. Some part of him thirsted for that after-sex confirmation that he was Dean's and that the touches of all those who had used him at Thiros were washed away by his new and permanent lover. All of his training as a slave still shadowed his thoughts and he needed to be claimed and owned this way. Grunts of effort and pleasure sounded with each exhale he made.

"Faster," he told Dean, clenching, tightening, making Dean work for it that much harder.

"By the Lords of Kob--" Dean grunted, driving into him as hard as possible. Between thrusts, his hands moved over Sam's damp flesh, his thighs, his sides, always coming back to grip his hips when he pistoned into his lover. His muscles strained and flexed as he moved faster and faster, a drop of sweat rolling off his forehead. He slid one hand down over Sam's stomach, found his cock and closed his fingers around it, groaning at how hard Sam thrust into his hand, like he'd been waiting for it. "So good, Sam... so fucking... good." Breathless, urgent gasps punctuated his words as his thrusts became shallower but faster. "Sam..."

The feel of Dean's hands all over him and the constant pounding into his ass had Sam moaning loudly. When Dean picked up speed just as he'd asked, his eyes could have rolled back in his head at the tremors of ecstasy passing through him.

"Yes...yes...yes," he chanted in response to Dean's words and the feelings overloading his senses. When he felt Dean's sweaty palm wrap around his hard member, Sam's arms nearly gave out from the jolt of pleasure that shot through him. Words ceased coming from him. His world narrowed to the slick channel of Dean's palm that his dick pumped into and the feel of Dean's cock sliding in and out of him in counterpoint. He picked up speed even as his breathing approached hyperventilating. He couldn't hold back any longer.

"Ahh, Dean!" he shouted as his balls drew up, his body spasmed, and he shoved deep into Dean's hand. Cum exploded from him in milky white ropes.

"Yes!" Dean echoed Sam's cry as his orgasm slammed into him and the air was forced from his lungs. He came, thick and hard inside Sam, still squeezing his cock lightly in time with the scorching heat pulsing through his body. He kept pumping into Sam until they had milked each other dry.

"Oh gods..." he let out another shaky breath, closing both arms around Sam's waist and sitting back onto the bed, he pulled his lover up and collapsing onto his side. "You're very heavy with me in you," he said smugly, slowly rolling his hips away to pull out. Instantly rolling back, he dropped a few moist kisses along Sam's shoulder. "It's a good thing I'm an officer. It would suck for all the other warriors trying to get some sleep in the barracks."

Sam managed a weak laugh as he still tried to catch his breath. "You wouldn't do me in the barracks. Afraid someone would try to steal me away." Twisting his head, he captured that mouth so close to his own, twining their tongues slowly. When he finally pulled his tongue free of Dean's mouth he added. "I think you must be part Tanis. They're the only ones who could wear me out like this."

Sam's body was soaked in sweat and he could feel Dean's was as well. His chest was still heaving and his arms felt like they might be sore come morning. More importantly, he still felt Dean, even after Dean had pulled out, and he smiled at that. His eyes half closed he murmured, "Just let me know when you're ready for another round..."

"Better than any Tanis, just give me a moment..." Dean answered, trying to make it sound like a threat, even as he started to slide into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

[1.5 months later]

Even though Cylon ships hadn't been seen for weeks and it looked like they'd lost track of them, the stepped-up patrols continued. Command wasn't ready to let its guard down, not when the last of mankind was its responsibility. Dean had eased back into full duty though he'd be a liar if he said he never had flashbacks, or got a start when he saw bright light, but it was getting better. It would take some time, but he'd beat this thing.

"Captain, time to go home. Silver Spars on approach. Dean, are you violating regs?"

Dean could hear the smile in Mike's voice. Reaching out, he pressed a sequence of commands but didn't turn down the music that went against regulations. "Alright boys and girls, let's call it," he told his team.

Several red squad vipers zoomed out of view just as their relief came behind them. Noticing one of the silver spar vipers was tracking him and figuring it was his dad, Dean didn't accelerate just yet.

The pilot in the lone viper following Dean and kicked in his turbos to catch up with the Captain of Red. Pulling up beside the Captain, he dipped his wing so Dean had a clear view of him.
"Not only lagging behind, but playing your personal music while flying? Tsk," Sam said.

Eyes widening, Dean took a double take. No he wasn't in simulations. And yes, that was Sam. In uniform. In a real viper. "You fracker... that's what you've been doing with your spare time!" he said eventually, a big wide grin spreading across his face.

Lowering his music, he drank in the sight he'd been hoping for from the first day he'd found out Sin was Sam Wesson. "Welcome back to the pilot seat, Captain." He gave the thumbs up.

"Couldn't very well stay sitting on my ass all day while you worked, now could I? Told you I was taking some classes to learn some new skills. Been a lot of changes in flight patterns since my days in a viper. Besides you did mention something about a, ah," Sam paused since they were on an open channel. He didn't really want to say 'fetish' or neither of them would hear the end of it. "Something about a wish," Sam said, deciding that was safest. "I'm not a captain any more, though. I think it's completely unfair I've been busted back to lieutenant. They used the excuse of no captain's slot available or something." Pausing, Sam added, "It's good to be back. Thanks to you. All of it." He grinned at Dean, gave a final tip of the wing to Dean, then fell back to join his squad for patrol.

The End!!!