A/N: Warning: Wincest/Slash! Pairing: Sam/Dean

Please point out any crap writing so I can fix. I love reviews, good and bad so bring 'em!

This takes place right after Soft To The Touch with the boys still camping at the lake. I wanted to address any non-con issues that came up during the last chapter of STTT so that's why this story starts here. Don't worry, angst ensues very soon with lots more hot Wincest loving to come! :D

*

*

"Are you sure I didn't hurt you, Dean? I mean, you just got out of the damn hospital and I went and-"

"Dude! I'm ok…I'm OK! You ask me that again and I'm gonna have to kick your ass, Sammy! For the last time, I asked you to tie me up in that shower, hell, I even handed you the frigging rope and I practically begged you for the rough fuck! I can't believe you're still feeling guilty about it!"

"Not guilty about that part – just feel bad that I let my temper get the best of me and that I hit you so hard. You're ok, right – heart still feeling good and all?"

"Ok, that's it…one ass kicking coming up!"

They're in the tent, entwined together under the sleeping bag, the lantern flickering yellow-orange light around them, playing shadows on their skin and Dean's sitting up now, blanket falling away from his bare chest, twisting sideways to glare at Sam in annoyance, scowling thunder across the air.

Sam throws his hands up in surrender, "Ok, ok, I give. I'm glad I knocked you unconscious and fucked your brains out, ok? 'Scuse me for caring…"

With a growl, Dean rolls on top of Sam, wanting to shut him up and doing it the only way he knows how, by covering his mouth with a rough kiss, pushing open the soft lips and diving in to lick away his brother's fears with his hot tongue.

Giving a delicious moan, Sam's hands curl up around the back of his neck, sliding through his hair and urging him closer, humming softly in his throat as Dean's tongue finds his and dances around it, swirling and tangling until they're both trembling with desire.

Dean's exasperation melts away at the taste of Sam and he strains forward, needing to be deeper inside that mouth, the wet sweetness of it shutting down his brain and waking up his lower half, cock soft and tired but interested enough to twitch and lengthen against Sam's growing hardness.

They break apart, panting into the air between them, staring at each other with hot awareness and Dean raises himself up so he can look to where their hips are tight together and their dicks hard and heavy against each other and he glances up at Sam, a grin lighting his face.

"You ever seen anything hotter than that, Sam?"

And Sam's up on his elbows, face flushing as he eyes what caught Dean's attention and he bucks obscenely up into Dean's belly, leaving a hot trail of sticky wet on the skin and giving a seductive grin at his brother's sharp intake of breath. He reaches out a long arm to tug Dean back down, pulling him close so he can whisper in his ear, "The look on your face just before you come – that's the hottest thing I've ever seen…"

And Dean feels Sam's teeth nipping at his earlobe, licking in and around it, working a shiver up his spine as the hot breath stirs up the hair over the top of his ear and Sam's hands slide down over his back, sensuously circling around the hard muscles before going lower, lower until both of his ass cheeks are cupped, squeezed in Sam's long fingers. He's spread wide and Sam tickles along inside the crack, ghosting over his entrance and down, teasing his balls with feather touches until Dean starts to moan out his pleasure.

"Shit, w-what do I look like…I mean, why do you think it's- it's hot?" Dean asks, breathless from Sam's caress, spreading his legs so his knees can fall on either side of Sam's hips, giving his brother clear access and wantonly grinding himself down against Sam's dick.

Sam chuckles, rich warmth and honey rumbling out of his chest, and he's trying to keep his voice steady, firm but Dean's hips are distracting, the heat between them flicking up into his belly, and Sam's stuttering over the words, "Y-your eyes, they get this – it's like a fire blazing in them and you lock onto mine, not even blinking and you look so hungry, like you want to eat me alive. When you get close, your face gets flushed and you bite on your lips so they're all red and swollen and fuck - just so goddamn hot -

Sam's dimples appear so fast Dean can't catch a breath, caught up in how gorgeous, how stunning his brother is and Sam blushes a little at his own words, soft eyes studying Dean's face with such a look of love that he's humbled by it. He bucks his hips up against Sam's again, cock on cock and Sam's grin falters over a hot exhale, "Sweet Christ, man, you feel so fucking good…"

Sam trails off, trying to remember his train of thought and hurriedly spits it out before his dick takes over his brain again, "It's…sometimes I think I can come just from the look on your face…"

"Mmmm." Dean leans in for another kiss, pitching up hard against Sam and rocking back down again, getting a nice rhythm going and Sam's hands are pulling at Dean's ass, rubbing him close, setting the pace. Their breaths mix in the air, hitching and gasping as they grind on each other and when Dean sits up, the pressure changes, waxes and wanes and becomes something new, intense and alive. Smaller movements but so much sweeter, heavier but more exquisite, more perfect, the flames of pleasure licking into them and curling lower with every twitch, making every breath, every delicate tingle more, and the heat shudders through them fierce and swift. Each nudge, each forward push burns, sizzling through them as they hump into each other and Dean's staring down into Sam's eyes, a sudden need to push his brother over the edge consuming him-

He reaches back, stretching to roll his fingers over Sam's balls and down, sliding in between the ass cheeks to his brother's sweet hole and slipping inside, earning a whimper of pleasure from the writhing body beneath him and he starts thrusting into Sam's ass, stabbing deep, trying to find that spot, that delicious little place-

"Shit, Dean!" Sam jumps like his ass just got touched with live wires, his hands stumble and flail away, losing their grip on Dean's ass to smack onto the sleeping bag beneath them where they grip the cloth so tight the knuckles turn white and his forearms bulge with tension.

Bingo. Dean smiles and adds a second finger, digging in further, pressing down where he can give Sam the most delight.

Sam's trembling underneath him, his whole body alert, shivering and his hands grip and release convulsively, the sleeping bag being twisted into sweaty peaks, his breath rasping through his chest, throaty grunts cutting through the air, sweet noises that speak right to Dean's dick. Mmmm, Dean loves it when Sam gets like this – a quivering lump of desire that's aching for Dean's touch, straining for more, heart and mind focused only on Dean and he could pretty much do anything he wants to Sam right now and Sam would take it, eagerly, with love and passion because Sam's past the point of permission, of sane. His brother is a bundle of nerve endings right now, controlled by two fingers and Dean's weight on his cock and how fucking hot is that?

Dean watches Sam's face as he lets his other hand trail over his brother's hard chest, lightly circling around one nipple and the reaction is immediate, goose bumps rise up as his head thrashes side to side and Sam's face is twisted in a sensual grimace, lip caught between teeth and he's huffing out every breath, ribs racked with each deep pull in.

Hips are pressing and bucking under Dean's, smacking bone on bone, erections pulsing, pearly essence leaking out, smearing across skin and Sam's voice, a low growl as he shoves up again "Jesus, Dean, fuck, man, getting close…holy shit, your fingers…God, right there…right there…yeah, that feels so nice…"

Dean's getting close, too, the sounds coming out of Sam almost too much for him and the look of him, shit…Sam's right, watching his brother make his way towards orgasm is probably just about the hottest fucking thing he's ever seen.

Gasping around his own pleasure at the movement of Sam rolling underneath him, Dean brings the hand on Sam's chest up to his mouth, coating his palm with spit and reaches between them, wrapping around both of them, holding their dicks in a tight circle, he drags his hand up and down and ho, damn, that feels fucking incredible right there-

Sam's velvet soft skin almost inside his own, so tight, so close it's like they're one now, one mind, one heart and when he feels the throb of Sam's oncoming orgasm next to him, it touches something in his gut, deep and old, and he almost cries out with the beauty of it and shit, wouldn't Sam tease the fuck out of him if he knew that went through his mind right then?

His fingers are still buried deep in Sam's ass, still plunging in and out when Sam gives a hoarse shout, erupting over Dean's hand, the hot liquid like fire when it spatters on Dean's sensitive dick and he cries out, the scald of it yanking him upward, soaring towards the sky, reaching the precipice and trembling there, so close, so close and two more quick pulls has him crashing down, over the side, grunting with pleasure, spasms rocking through him, shooting his load, adding it to Sam's. Dean strokes them both softly for another second before collapsing onto Sam's chest, burying his face in the sweet smell of neck and pulling in great huffs of air, trying to get his breathing under control.

A few minutes later, when coherent thought has returned enough for him to slide off Sam and they can speak without wheezing, Sam gives a chuckle, tightening his arm around Dean's shoulders and pulling him close.

Dean raises his head, "What?"

Sam smirks, "Now, that's one ass kicking I can live with…"

*

"So, what's the name of this place again?" Dean is relaxing in the passenger seat, flipping through the same cassettes, over and over, trying to find one that suits his fancy.

Sam's got the Impala humming at about seventy, the wind is whipping through their hair and the sun is bright, high in the sky as the miles roll under them.

"Shipbottom, New Jersey. It's a resort town on Long Beach Island, pretty much booked up at this time of year but Bobby has a friend who owes him a favor and he managed to score us a cottage five hundred yards from the beach, so you could 'get on the mend'. We have it for a week if we want it."

Bobby had called the day before to check on Dean's progress, relaying the offer of the beach house to them and urging them to go, get some rest and relax. They'd reluctantly packed up the pup tent, camping chairs and coolers that morning, the peace of the lake and the woods beckoning to them to stay longer, the heat of the day guaranteeing a scorcher coming and just to hang by the water all day, paddling in the cool lake sounded like heaven. Another steamy night of tent sex with each other in the flickering light of the lantern didn't sound so bad either. But, as Sam pointed out, they'd have a comfy bed in the cottage and lots of time to explore each other in all kinds of different ways. As he spoke, he'd caressed Dean's knee seductively, moving higher and higher up his thigh until he'd cupped the growing bulge in Dean's pants and Dean had panted his agreement, seeing the wisdom in Sam's words-

*

The cottage is small, quaint and freaking hot in the heat of the day, the air conditioners in the windows pathetically pumping as best they can but it's a lost cause, the muggy sea air coming in through the beams of the place. Three bedrooms, a living/dining room, kitchen and bathroom make up most of the place. The porch in the front is the entire width of the house and looks perfect for cooling off at night, lined with windows and plenty of comfy wicker furniture.

Dean hides a smile as Sam sets up his laptop and can't find internet access except at one corner of the dining room table, his brother chafing at the possibility of being cut-off, disconnected for more than a day, and it looks like he's starting to go into withdrawal already, hopefully pecking at the keyboard, shaking his head in disbelief when he's not getting any WiFi signal at all and wondering how the fuck people survive at the beach.

"Well, maybe they just go swimming, dude." Dean smirks at him and goes to change into his swimsuit, "I'm gonna go check out the ocean. Wanna come?"

Sam gives a dejected push at his computer, shoulders slumped, "May as well."

*

They find beach badges in a dish on the bureau, chairs in a bin outside and carry them out to the road, bitching at the rocks that line the driveway that cut into their city feet. Sam limps to the back porch, finding two sets of flip flops left from another family and brings them back out, both boys slipping them on in relief. The hot tarmac changes to equally steaming sand in a moment, just over a dune and there, the wide expanse, the roar of waves and the New Jersey shore is spread out before them in all its glory. The ocean smell, fish, wet sand, heat and salt wrap around them as they trudge to find a vacant spot near the water, setting up the chairs they've dragged up and sitting down, sand finding its way everywhere in a minute.

They're drinking Smirnoff's, hiding the labels from the lifeguard's gaze and tilting back one too many, the sun bringing color to their skin, the ocean air whetting their appetites, the heat of the day making the alcohol hit harder, buzzing their heads pleasantly.

It's hot and Dean's skin is starting to burn, he can feel it so he digs in the bag they brought, coming out with a bottle of sunscreen and starts rubbing it on his chest, feeling Sam's eyes watching him and deliberately slowing the movements so they're more sensual, letting his fingers run over his nipples and down his stomach, smoothing lotion across his abdomen and lower, over the soft hairs under his belly button, dipping under the waistband of his suit-

He sneaks a glance at Sam and his brother's mouth is hanging open, watching Dean rub himself and when Sam catches his gaze, he closes his mouth with a snap and looks away, muttering, "Fucking tease…"

"Hey." He tosses the bottle to Sam, who catches it one handed, "Do my back, would you?" and moves down on his knees in front of his brother's chair.

With a huff of annoyance, Sam pours sunscreen in his hand and smooths it over Dean's shoulders, sliding over his reddened skin slowly, rubbing the lotion in with small tight circles over the taut muscles of back and down and mmm, feels so good-

Sam rubs into the shoulder blades and down, over the ribs and waist, and onto the small arch above Dean's ass. He sweeps his fingers in a wide arc, gradually pushing down Dean's shorts and sliding under, caressing the firm cheeks of his brother's tight ass, slipping one fingertip in between to touch the puckered entrance, tickling feather-light-

Dean gasps in a breath and pulls away, grabbing a towel from the back of his chair and covering up the sudden hard-on he's sporting, "Holy shit, Sam, there's children here…what the fuck, man?"

Sam smiles playfully at him, "Hey, you started this and I was just keeping it going. But now-"

"Now what?"

Sam leans forward, breathing heavily into Dean's ear, "Well, now, I think you're right, I think I just overstepped and I need to have someone put me in my place, show me who's in charge…"

He stands up, stretching his back and gives a slow cheeky grin, starting to walk away and glancing back once, to where Dean is frozen to the spot at the images Sam just put in his head and raises an eyebrow at his brother, "Interested?"

Dean almost breaks a leg scrambling to his feet.

*

Dean muscles Sam up against the refrigerator, running hands over the hot skin of his chest, pinning him there with his own body and taking his mouth roughly, pushing lips apart and thrusting in with his tongue, tasting the vodka and mixer Sam just drank and underneath, the freaking taste of his brother, that sweetness uniquely Sam. It's that honey flavor that makes Dean dizzy, shooting sparks of desire through his belly and making him want more, making him want to dive into Sam as deep as possible until he can find the source of that delicious taste.

He moans on the tang of it on Sam's tongue, locking his mouth in place, plunging in deeper, one hand going to the back of Sam's head and holding him there, not letting him breathe or pull away until Dean's finished his exploration. When he finally does break the kiss, they're both gasping in deep breaths of hot arousal and Sam's cheeks are flushed, his eyes half-lidded with lust, his mouth swollen from Dean's kiss-

Jesus, he's fucking gorgeous-

Dean's hands go to Sam's shorts, yanking them over his hips with one rough pull and impatiently pushing them down his thighs and they drop to the floor at Sam's feet.

"Kick 'em off." Dean mutters, his palm already reaching out to grip Sam's shaft tight, pulling up and down and Sam's trying to do as Dean asks but his hips are already jerking forward, responding to the hot tug of his brother's hand.

Dean captures Sam's mouth again, swallowing down the sweet moans he's making, and pushing on through, swirling his tongue around Sam's, opening him up, can't get close enough, and Sam lets him in, body trembling with passion, wide open and vulnerable.

He's all Dean's, there for the taking, and Sam's surrender turns Dean wild with lust and he's breaking the kiss, sucking down over Sam's throat, biting and bruising as he makes his way over the hot skin, Sam throwing back his head to give him clear access and Christ, that almost sends Dean over the edge right there-

"Need you now, Sam, right the fuck now…" and he's pulling Sam forward, spinning him around and pushing him towards the dining room. Sam trips over the swim trunks still at his feet, stumbling forwards and Dean catches him, pulling him up tight against his chest and growling into his ear, "Hmmm, I told you to kick those off. Shit, making bad choices and now disobeying an order-"

"I'm sorry, I got carried away and-"

Dean shakes his head, lips pursed, "Tsk, tsk, tsk…you really do need to learn a lesson, don't you?"

And he reaches around, running his hands up and over Sam's nipples, lightly flicking them to hardness before circling around slowly, continuing until Sam is swaying towards him, arching up to deepen the touch. He pinches the hard nubs, gradually increasing pressure until Sam is gasping with the throb of it and then tickling with a feather touch across them, earning a hot moan.

"You like that, Sammy? You like it when I pinch you…when I mark you?" And he nips at Sam's neck, scoring the skin with his teeth and licking over it with a hot tongue.

"God, yes!" Sam's panting against him, eyes closed, straining towards Dean's touch, "Need it, Dean-need more-"

Dean rolls his palms down, over the sculptured abs and below, Sam's belly quivering in anticipation at the caress, fluttering over jutting hip bones, trailing them down to rock hard thighs. Dean pulls back, working his fingers around Sam's hips and over the swell of his ass, squeezing and pulling the cheeks apart, marveling at how perfect Sam fits into his hands.

Dean gives his brother a small push forward, "God, you have such a nice ass, Sam…so fucking tight and perfect. Bend over the table and spread your legs-"

Sam belatedly kicks off his shorts before he leans forward, gripping the table on either side with his hands and doing as Dean says. Dean stares down in wonder, barely able to breathe over the lump in his throat, over the throb of arousal that just shot through him at the sight he's looking at right now, his brother, bent before him, trusting and waiting, asking to be taken, giving Dean control-

The anticipation must be getting to Sam because he squirms over the table, his erection rubbing against it and Dean hears the desperation in his voice as he gasps out, "Dean, please, man…"

"Not yet." And at Sam's disappointed moan, he firms his jaw, his voice steel, unbending, "No, Sam…gotta get you ready, man. You're gonna have to wait 'til I say."

And he drops to his knees, hands pulling Sam's ass cheeks apart and spreading him wide, leaning forward to circle around Sam's sweet hole with his tongue, licking around the quivering skin before darting inside, tongue firm and thrusting, hearing Sam's gasp of pleasure right before his knees buckle.

God, he tastes so fucking good-

Dean pushes him close to the table so he doesn't fall down, keeping his tongue buried deep, swirling around, poking and jabbing until Sam is babbling, pleading with his brother, "Jesus, Dean, Jesus Christ, you need to…please, Dean, please, need you…need…"

He shoves in a finger and then another, wetting them with his tongue as they slide inside Sam, his brother arching his back up and pushing back against him now, wiggling his hips to get Dean to thrust in harder and Dean can't take much more-

Dean scrambles to his feet, spitting into his hand and rubbing it quickly over his dick, because he can't wait any fucking longer-

He positions himself behind Sam, nudging himself in, hands spreading Sam wider, pulling him open and he suddenly thrusts deep, before Sam realizes he's gonna and he's halfway buried in Sam's ass before his brother's muscles lock down.

"Holy fuck, Dean!" Sam's head is thrown back and he's rasping out great whoops of air, trying to breathe through it, trying to relax, body tense, rigid and Dean is running his hands over the soft skin, massaging gently until he feels Sam give and open. He pulls back slightly, giving himself a running start and shoves in again, hard. Sam's grunt of pain stirs up a ravenous hunger in his heart, a feral need that's deep and basic, making Dean feel fierce, almost savage and he jerks back on his hips, withdrawing from the tightness surrounding him before ramming in again, even harder this time, going further, deeper.

Sam tightens his grip on the table and spreads his legs wider, urging Dean on, voice hoarse with need, "Do it, Dean…come on, man, please…need you fucking filling me up-"

Dean is grunting harsh sounds from deep in his chest, a wild beast in heat, fingers digging into Sam's hips so hard he's bruising the skin and he pulls out, slamming back in, again and again until he's buried up to the hilt, the hot tight channel of Sam's ass gripping him, so good, so fucking sweet-

He's sweating from exertion, dripping down onto Sam's back and he leans forward, gritting into Sam's ear, "Who's in charge, Sammy?" and he pulls out, shoves in again, making sure to hit up against Sam's prostate, making Sam jump nearly out of his skin.

"Shit-" Sam's huffing out, trying to speak, "Y-you are…"

"Say it again-" another jab over Sam's sweet spot and then another, his brother's hips jerking into the table, and Sam is tossing his head over the arch that shoots up his back-

Dean reaches around, finding Sam's cock and dragging the skin up and down, jerking him off roughly, fierce and hot, each pull matching Dean's stabbing thrust from behind and Dean's growling into Sam's neck, "Answer me! Who's in control here?"

"You are, Dean, you are! Jesus Christ, I'm gonna-" and with a shout, Sam's coming, body rigid, spasms rocking through him as he shoots his seed out all over the table cloth and the floor, whimpering as the aftershocks flick and jerk into him and he's twitching against Dean's cock, still buried in him-

The clenching of Sam's ass on his dick has Dean seeing stars and he mindlessly starts pounding in, relentless, wheezing out hard grunts in time to his thrusting, working his way to his own brain-blowing orgasm, huffing into Sam's back as he shoves in, "Fuck, Sam, you're so goddamn tight, shit, feels so good, love being inside you, so hot…so fucking hot-"

Two more frantic hip jerks and he's peaking, shuddering through as he erupts, spurting deep inside Sam's warmth, waves of it shivering through him as he empties himself into the deep cavern, the sweet heat of his brother caressing and tugging until he's finished, exhausted and he collapses down onto Sam's back, dizzy and panting.

When they've both recovered, he pulls out of Sam, kissing him on his soft skin and helping him to stand, turning him around so they can look at each other and Sam is glowing, eyes shining and smiling wide, love pulsing out of him, enveloping Dean in its warmth and he drops to his knees in front of Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him tight.

"Thanks, man, just…thanks."

Dean nods, hugging Sam back, holding him close and petting him, letting Sam know that he understands and he's got him, got his back and he'll take control whenever Sam needs him to.

They rest together, content and satisfied until Sam's knees start protesting and Dean hauls him up, snickering and making 'old man' comments before dragging his brother into the shower and washing them both clean.

A quick trip back up to the beach to gather up their things and they're back down at the cottage, starving and foraging for something to eat. Frozen pizza in the freezer and a bottle of lemon rum in the cupboard sate them for the time being and they wander out to the porch, the sun setting and the air starting to cool. They find a box full of board games and Sam takes great pleasure in beating Dean's ass in Scrabble while Dean whips Sam in Chutes and Ladders. Soon, they're both yawning and stumbling and they lock up the cottage for the night, collapsing into bed, finding each other in the dark and curling their limbs around, needing the calming touch of the other to relax enough to sleep.

*

Sam's phone rings, jarring them both to wakefulness, Dean groaning and smacking at Sam's head to get the fuck up and answer it, shut it up before it wakes the neighbors. Sam fumbles for it, can't find the damn thing and when Dean throws it at him, he can't get his sleep-clumsy fingers to work right and finally, finally snags it and opens it, slapping it to his ear with more vengeance than necessary, making himself wince at the blow.

"Yeah?" His annoyance apparent in his voice, he listens and sighs, "Yeah, this is Sam Winchester. Who the hell's this?"

Another silence and Dean hears the change in Sam's voice, the shock of surprise, the underlying unease and the nervous tremor that shakes through Sam's words, "Sure I remember you. How-how did you get this number?"

Sam's tone has Dean sitting up straight and turning on the light, staring at his brother's face, trying to read what's going on.

Sam listens to the voice on the other end, muttering "Oh. Yeah, we still stay in touch. I felt bad after Jess died, him being the only kid the parents had left and all so I call him every once in a while just to check in, make sure he's doing ok. I-I'm really surprised to hear from you, I mean, it's been almost five years-uh, how, uh, have you been?"

Buzzing over the line as Sam listens and then, "You sure it's a-? Yeah, I know it's your specialty but that's a little far-fetched to think that you may have seen a real-ok, ok…don't get yourself all worked up, huh? For the time being, let's assume you're not hallucinating buckets of crazy and you've actually seen the real thing…why call me? What do you want from me?"

Silence again, and when Sam speaks, he's tense, worried, staring wide-eyed at Dean's face and shaking his head when Dean mouths, "What the fuck?"

"How do you know that? I never told anyone about that…wait, how do you know Sarah? Your grad student, huh? She told you I'd be able to help? Shit, I don't know…Alright, alright, calm down, it's ok. I'll come, ok? Don't worry. Yeah, I'll be there. Tomorrow afternoon's the soonest I can manage it, ok? Yeah, I'll see you then."

Sam hangs up and stares down at the phone in his hand, rubbing it nervously with his thumb.

"Sammy? Want to let me in on it?"

His eyes flick up to Dean's and down again but what Dean sees there makes his heart trip-hammer in his chest and he can't catch a decent breath in because of the cold hand of fear that touches the back of his neck. Sam can't speak, can only shake his head at Dean and look away, out into the distance, looking for all the world like he's lost in memories, none of them good and he can't shake them away.

"Sam? You're scaring me." Dean whispers.

Sam slants a look back at him, his eyes filled with unshed tears, his mouth working uncontrollably, "Dean-"

"Sam, what the Christ is it?" Dean's heart is jumping now with frantic worry, sure the worst thing in the world just befell them and not knowing is freaking killing him because he can't fight what he can't see, what he doesn't know and shit, Sam just needs to tell him what the fuck, right now!

"I-Shit, Dean. I never planned on telling anybody about this, ever."

"You can tell me anything, Sam, you know that."

Sam nods but the look on his face tells Dean he'd rather swallow glass than have to reveal this to him and Dean plasters a look of acceptance on his face, determined not to be an asshole but to really try to give Sam the right response right now – the one that tells Sam he can trust Dean with whatever it is.

Sam takes a deep breath in, steeling himself with a roll of his shoulders but still not able to look at Dean full on when he spits it out, "Ok, when I was at Stanford, I had a…uh…relationship with my Mythology and Folklore professor and um…we broke up…not nicely and it was awkward and uncomfortable for a long time…until I met Jess and she helped me get over it."

"Ah…and that was her on the phone, your professor?"

Sam looks at him then, locking his eyes on Deans and nods, saying distinctly, "That was him on the phone."

*