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Sometimes, when a bout of nostalgia would catch hold of him, an image of Jessica would appear in his mind’s eye.
She had been his first true love, his goddess.
Sam smiled wryly as he remembered Dean’s words that night when he broke into Sam and Jessica’s student apartment. Dean had sauntered over to her, into her personal space, and had declared. “You’re way out of my brother’s league.”
Sam agreed.
He had never understood how a beautiful woman like Jessica could have fallen for a guy like him, who possessed nothing but the clothes he stood up in.
Yet, she had seen something in him that was worthy of her love.
He sighed. It would have been better if she never had.
The truth was that Jessica had died because of him, cruelly, and for no other reason than to force Sam back on the road, to fulfill Azazel’s fetish.
That was why he had shied away from ever getting close to another woman. Fear of the doom he would bring down on them.
Yet Sam did yearn for love, and it had been fulfilled in a way he’d never have believed…in full-on incest.
Perhaps being chosen as Lucifer’s vessel hadn’t been all that wrong after all.
In the distance, he saw Dean approach, two cups of coffee clasped in his hands.
Sam took a moment to study him.
The love he felt for Jess and that which he felt for his brother were miles apart.
His love for her had been pure, joyful, seen through the rose-colored glasses of youth.
What he felt for Dean was something else.
There was a darkness to it, a voracious need… a need that kept him bound to Dean in the hope of eventually quenching it. It was beyond sex, beyond pleasure, beyond obsession.
Sam didn’t have a name for it, but he was certain that the love they shared was anything but healthy.
Holding his brother in his arms was tantamount to completing a circuit.
Ash had intimated that he and Dean were soulmates. Crying out to each other through eternity.
At the time, he and Dean had looked away in embarrassment, believing that Ash was joking.
Now, however, Sam believed it.
Dean rocked up to him in that cocky way he had, a smile hovering around his lips. He stretched out a hand and offered Sam one of the coffees.
“What are you brooding about this time, Sammy?” Reading Sam’s moods had always been second nature to Dean.
Sam huffed. “I’m not. I'm just marking time until you arrive with the coffees.”
“Hmm,” Dean grunted, in total disbelief. But he wasn’t going to insist.
He was in too good a mood. The past night had been incredible; the sex had lifted him higher than any drug.
He watched as Sam removed the lid and brought the cup to his lips.
Dean could feel his body reacting, his dick twitching in his pants.
How was it possible that just watching his brother take a sip of coffee could arouse him like this?
For a moment, he too thought back to Stanford, to when he’d gone to get Sam. He’d been overjoyed to see him again. Sam had been an essential part of his life. He’d loved the kid as much as a brother could.
What had transformed that innocent love into the insatiable craving for each other? A craving so powerful that even the most innocuous everyday mannerisms devolved into erotic signals.
As if he knew exactly what Dean was thinking, Sam’s eyes met his. But there was no ‘as if’ about it.
Sam knew precisely what Dean was thinking, for he was thinking the same.
The End