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Love and Duty	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and make no profit from this story. Just borrowing Papa Winchester and his boys for fun.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
“Restless weather,” Ellen said Friday morning as she handed her daughter her lunch box. The morning was hot and humid already, even though the sky was cloudy, threatening rain. “You come straight home after school, Joanna Beth, and make sure you don’t walk alone.”
“Mom!” Jo complained. The young girl displayed a knife she pulled from her boot. “I can take care of myself!”
“Jo doesn’t need to worry about restless ghosts,” Dean joined the conversation. “...Her face scares them away.”
Sam rolled his eyes, hiding a grin as Jo stuck her tongue out at Dean and flounced off the porch.
“I’ll pick you up at four o’clock,” Dean told him unnecessarily as they parted ways at the school a short time later.
“See you later.” It was yet another day on the Winchester estate, a day like any other, Sam thought, until the heavy, sullen rain clouds broke open just before the lunch break. Several of the older students moved to close the windows, all open wide in hopes of catching a breeze. Sam had already noted the curious fact that every windowsill on the estate had a narrow groove carved into it to hold salt. Now he watched in bemusement as Missouri Mosely poured a line of salt at the door.
“Get out your lunches and eat at your desks,” she instructed the children in her sweet, calm voice. “We’re as safe as can be.”
Thunder rumbled loudly and lightning flashed in the watery glass panes of the windows. One of the youngest students began to cry. Jo Harvelle took the child onto her lap, once again displaying her knife. “Pure iron,” Sam overheard her telling the little boy reassuringly.
“Do you really believe in ghosts, Ms. Mosely?” he asked in an undertone as she took her seat behind the teacher’s desk at the front of the room.
“Do you not, Mr. Harvelle?” she replied mildly.
“Well, it just seems like superstition to me. I’ve never seen one, and if they really lurked in the ruins of the old cities, you’d think St. Louis would be crawling with them.”
“Hmm… And no one in the city ever warned you not to walk out alone at night for fear of the restless dead?”
“The other boys at the academy and I weren’t ever allowed out alone, especially at night,” Sam said dryly, “for fear of being kidnapped and losing our owners their investment. But yes,” he admitted when Missouri arched her eyebrows at him, “I’ve heard the warnings before.”
“You might want to heed them, Sam.   Crowds of people ward off vengeful spirits. Out here in the countryside, it’s truly dangerous to be caught out alone when an ill wind blows. Do you carry a knife?”
“Just a pocket knife, ma’am.” Sam was privately amused at the schoolteacher’s credulity, but he kept a straight face, not wanting to offend the kindly woman.
“That’ll do, as long as it’s got sufficient iron in the blade,” Missouri said serenely, as outside the thunder rolled.

The cloudburst ended as abruptly as it began, and later that afternoon the students all cheered as Ms. Mosely dismissed school early to make up for the lost recess time. Dean showed up at four o’clock on horseback, leading another horse along behind. Sam regarded the animals with apprehension. “What’s this?”
“Got something I want to show you, and it’s farther than I want to walk in this heat. Besides, you need to learn to ride.”
“I know how to ride,” Sam scowled.
“No, you don’t.” Dean’s teeth flashed white as he smirked. “Come on, what I’m going to show you is worth it, I promise.”
“It had better be.” Sam clambered up onto the horse, glaring at Dean as he dismounted from his own horse with easy grace, leaving the animal to wait placidly in the shade of the trees that edged the schoolyard.   Dean played out the line attached to Sam’s horse’s halter, clucking his tongue and urging the animal into a walk. “I thought we were going somewhere,” Sam protested.
“We will, once you can convince me you’re not going to fall off...Look, you can take lessons from me here on Friday afternoons with no one around,” Dean said reasonably, turning as the horse circled him on the lunge line with Sam seated awkwardly on its back, “or you can learn from Caleb over at the stables with half the ranch hands on the estate heckling you. Your choice.”
Sam frowned. That actually sounded reasonable… Considerate, even. “All right,” he said grudgingly.
After a half hour of riding in circles, Sam had to admit his fiance knew what he was talking about. It would be a while before he rode well, but he no longer felt in imminent danger of falling off his horse as he and Dean rode up to a copse of trees at the summit of a low hill and left the animals to graze. Dean led Sam down a path through the little grove, standing aside to let the city boy have an unobstructed view of the natural spring-fed pool.
“Told you it’d be worth it.”   Dean grinned at Sam’s wide-eyed expression.
“It’s amazing.” Sam blinked. “There’s fish,” he said wonderingly, his eyes on the sun-dappled shallows.
“Yeah, minnows.” Dean’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Probably some frogs and turtles, too, if you look close. The water’s pure.”   He couldn’t stop smiling at his fiance’s reaction as Sam drank in the sight of the pristine water with awe bordering on reverence.
“What’s the rope for?” Sam was pointing at a length of rope, as thick around as one of their wrists, that hung from a branch overhanging the water.
“Oh, Bobby strung that up there when I was just a little kid.”
“What for?”
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. Sam looked baffled. “For swinging on,” he scoffed, stating the obvious.
“For swinging on? Over the water? Why?”
“So you can jump in, you idjit,” Dean resorted to the estate foreman’s favorite insult. Was his book-smart fiance really that dense?
“Jump in...And swim?   That’s allowed?” Sam clearly wasn’t getting it.
“It’s a swimming hole, Sam.” Dean couldn’t hold back an incredulous snort of laughter.   “That’s what it’s for.”   The cool water beckoned, reminding him of just how hot and sweaty he was after the day’s work, and he toed off his boots, hopping on one foot at a time to tug off his socks.
“Oh…”
Sam followed suit, shyly turning his back to Dean as he undressed, a move that had the unexpected effect of making Dean feel self-conscious.   He’d never been uncomfortable with nudity before, but now the practical matter of getting naked to go swimming reminded him that there was another activity for which getting naked was more or less essential.   Did Sam think he’d brought him to the swimming hole as a prelude to sex? Frowning, Dean shucked off his jeans, leaving his drawers on in an uncharacteristic display of modesty for his reluctant fiance’s sake.
He waded in, luxuriating in the cool caress of the water against his skin .   Dean turned to watch Sam as he finished shrugging out of his shirt and trousers, running his eyes appreciatively over a body that was just as toned and muscular as his own. His fiance’s physique was all the more impressive, Dean thought, taking into account that he was only sixteen. His shoulders would broaden and his chest would fill out more as he matured.    Sam turned to wade into the water and Dean felt a blush heat his cheeks as the younger boy saw him gawking. Caught in the act, he covered with a bold smirk and a low, appreciative whistle.     “I thought you taught school. How is it a nerd like you happens to have muscles like a field hand?”
Sam blushed, too, squirming a little with embarrassment under his fiance’s scrutiny.   “It’s called exercise, Dean,” he said defensively. “It’s expected for child-bearing males to keep healthy.”
“Healthy?   You’re not healthy, you're gigantor,” Dean taunted, but secretly he was pleased with his fiance’s appearance.    If he had to be married, at least it would be to a sexy, good-looking husband.   Waist-deep in the water, he let himself fall back and submerge.   After half a minute he broke the surface, shaking the water out of his hair and eyes and returning his gaze to Sam, who was still wading in cautiously. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone swimming before.”
“Never,” Sam admitted.
“I thought the Mississippi River ran straight through St. Louis,”   Dean argued.
“It does, but you wouldn’t want to swim in it. On a hot day like today, the smell alone would be about enough to kill you,” Sam reminisced with a wry grin. “A couple of years ago the Mississippi even caught fire.”
“You’re jerking my chain.” Dean’s eyes narrowed.
“No, really,” Sam insisted. He let himself fall backward as Dean had done, wallowing and sending big, arcing splashes into the air.
Dean watched, amused, as Sam enjoyed the water. “Worth the ride, isn’t it?”
“Yeah... I want to swing on the rope.”
“Knock yourself out,” Dean said lazily, but his eyes widened as Sam reached the shallows and stood up to wade out of the pool. Like Dean, he’d opted to keep his drawers on for modesty, but the water had turned the thin, white fabric practically see-through. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the way they clung to his fiance’s tight little ass as Sam climbed up to reach the rope, placing his bare feet down gingerly on the gnarled tree roots.
Then he turned, catching hold of the rope and reaching up to take his grip above the knotted handholds, oblivious to his fiance’s heated gaze as the muscles in his arms and chest flexed. Dean’s eyes trailed down Sam’s body hungrily. Those thin cotton drawers left nothing to the imagination. The way the soaking wet, almost transparent fabric hugged Sam’s crotch, clinging to the generous bulge there, made Dean’s mouth go suddenly dry with lust.
Sam launched himself out into the air with a whoop of joy, letting go of the rope at the height of its arc, that perfectly toned, taut body seeming to hang spread-eagled in the empty air above Dean for a long moment before he plunged into the pool below. It was impossible not to grin as Sam broke the surface, splashing and floundering as he tried to coordinate flailing arms and kicking legs into something resembling the mechanics of swimming.
“You okay there, Sam?” Dean swam closer as Sam’s head disappeared below the surface, but he quickly reappeared, shaking his wet hair off his forehead and doggy-paddling clumsily but steadily back to shallower water.
“This is fun,” Sam gasped. His eyes were shining, a grin as broad as Dean’s own dimpling his cheeks.
Dean wanted to tackle him right then and there, to grab a fistful of long hair and haul his mouth down on his for a long, lingering kiss. He felt his breath leave his chest in a gasp of his own, overwhelmed at his own sudden arousal, but Sam was already churning back to shore, stirring up fountains of water as he splashed.   Dean couldn’t help but slip a hand beneath the waistband of his drawers—which just so happened to be trustworthy, opaque plaid flannel—to palm his growing erection as Sam put on another inadvertent strip tease, much to Dean’s delight.
“Come here,” he ordered huskily once Sam had taken another joyous plunge from the swinging rope and floundered back from the depths. The younger boy’s hazel eyes instantly turned wary, but he paddled over to Dean, stopping just out of arm’s reach and letting his feet drop to the pebbled floor of the pool. Dean closed the space between them, settling his hands on Sam’s shoulders, holding him in place as he leaned in, bringing his face close to the younger boy’s.   “I like those see-through tighty-whities of yours,” Dean murmured, his lips so close to Sam’s that they were almost brushing against them as he spoke.
“What?” Sam pulled back, looking down at himself through the crystal-clear, pure water, his wary expression changing to one of horror as he took in the transparent wisp of cloth clinging to his hips. “Oh, shit…” he muttered, abashed.
Dean grinned wickedly as his fiance’s cheeks turned bright pink with embarrassment. “Trust me, I don’t mind,” he chuckled, dropping his hands to his hips.   Sam was bouyed up by the water all around them and Dean lifted him effortlessly, pulling him even closer and wrapping Sam’s long legs around his waist.
Sam had no choice but to hold on to Dean’s shoulders to balance himself as Dean pulled him in. He blushed even harder, the color spreading to the roots of his hair as the hard, demanding bulge of Dean’s cock pressed up against his crotch. Sam’s eyelids dropped shut, blocking out the sight of his fiance his only option for escape.
Dean couldn’t miss the tension in every line of Sam’s body as he held him captive. There was no way he could mistake those hazel eyes fluttering closed as acquiescence. His conscience gave a twinge as a faint tremor ran through Sam’s body. It wasn’t lust, nor even the chill of the water, Dean knew. It was reluctance at best, but Sam, raised as a slave, knew better than to protest. He lifted a hand to stroke Sam’s jaw, feeling the light rasp of stubble as his fingers grazed over the slick, wet skin.
“I just want to kiss you, Sam…” The sound of his own voice embarrassed Dean, shaky and rough with desire, and he forced a lighter tone as he taunted, “Not scared, are you?”
“Of you?” Sam scoffed, opening his eyes to glare at Dean. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Dean grinned and leaned back in, shifting his hand to the back of Sam’s neck and claiming a fistful of wet hair. Dean brushed his lips against Sam’s in a light, teasing kiss. When Sam didn’t respond he drew back a bit, tracing the full curve of Sam’s lower lip with the tip of his tongue before catching it between his teeth and worrying it gently for a moment before pressing their mouths together for another, deeper kiss.
“You’re supposed to kiss me back,” he taunted again when Sam’s lips remained slack under his.
With a snarl, Sam crashed his mouth into Dean’s, teeth clashing against Dean’s lips and fingers digging into his biceps hard enough to draw a hiss of pain from Dean’s throat.   He tugged on Sam’s hair, pulling him back and tilting his head for a better angle, murmuring wordless, soothing sounds until the younger boy stopped trying so hard to prove himself and let Dean take the lead again. He moved his lips over Sam’s, gentle but insistent, urging them to part for him.   With a sigh Sam opened his mouth, only to pull away, wide-eyed, when Dean darted his tongue past his lips.
Dean groaned in frustration. “Don’t try and tell me you’ve never been kissed before.”
Sam shook his head and glared.
“You have too,” Dean argued automatically.
“Have not!” Sam pushed against his chest and Dean dropped both hands back to his hips, forcing his legs to stay wrapped around Dean’s waist. “When a client pays for a virgin slave, he expects just that. A virgin,” he snapped. “You know, innocent. Inexperienced… Not-not brazen.”
“Brazen’s more fun.” Dean rocked his hips up, grinding his cock against Sam’s crotch, smirking as that cute blush of his heated up again. “Come on, Sammy, you don’t have to pretend for my sake. You can’t expect me to believe nobody before me has ever wanted to kiss you.”
“No.” Sam hung his head, avoiding his fiance’s eyes.
“Sam.” Dean’s tone clearly conveyed his disbelief. “You’re hot as hell. I don’t care how many guards and chaperones they had on you, somebody must’ve at least tried to steal a kiss.”
“Maybe…” Sam smirked. His eyes darted up to meet Dean’s for an instant before dropping again. “But nobody I wanted to kiss back.”
With a low growl, Dean cupped the back of Sam’s head, threading his fingers through his hair and claiming his mouth. For a long moment the younger boy froze, every muscle stiff with shock, and then he was kissing back, still clumsy but with growing enthusiasm. Dean traced the soft, full contours of Sam’s lips and this time Sam opened to his urging, meeting Dean’s tongue with his own in a battle that Dean found all the more enticing in light of his fiance’s lack of experience.
Sam’s hands slid up to cling to Dean’s shoulders as Dean kissed him deeply, a soft, shuddering moan rising up in his throat as his hips ground against Dean’s. Dean gasped at the sweet friction of his fiance’s erect cock pressed up against his own, frotting them together with every roll of Sam’s hips. It wasn't evidence of affection, nor even interest in him personally, Dean reminded himself, recalling his own adolescence from the lofty maturity of his twenty years. His teenage fiance was just horny. Dean broke the kiss off reluctantly, setting his fiance back on his feet with a shaky laugh.
“That’s enough for now, or you won’t be a virgin for long.”    He leaned back in, pressing a quick, chaste peck against Sam’s lips, then turned away, wading back to shore and wiping the water off his body with the palms of his hands.
Sam shivered, the water suddenly cold without the heat of Dean’s body pressed up against him, half relieved that his fiance had called a halt, half frustrated as his arousal strained against the wet fabric of his drawers. He followed Dean out of the pool, resisting the urge to shield his crotch with his hands, but Dean kept his back to him as he pulled on his jeans and slung his t-shirt over his shoulder.
A few minutes later they’d retrieved their horses and were riding back in silence when a cloud passed over the sun and a breeze picked up. Sam reined his horse to a halt so he could button his shirt, shivering again as the temperature seemed to plummet.
“Come on.” Dean clucked his tongue and Sam’s horse started moving again, abruptly breaking into a canter at Dean's command.
“Hey!” Sam protested, swaying in his saddle at the unexpected motion and fumbling with the reins.
“Don’t fall behind,” Dean admonished. “That’s an ill wind blowing.”
Sam was about to mock his fiance for his superstition when an icy gust chilled the back of his neck and he swore he heard ghostly laughter just behind them. “Er… Dean?”
“Shut up and ride!”
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Love and Duty