Title: By Now

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: M

Summary: It's been over 3 months since Dean's really talked to Sam, but he's all the guy thinks about. How's his life, what he's doing, how's he feeling…it's all Dean thinks about. Sam's got Dean pulling at his hair, and Sam's not even there. Dean never let anyone in; he just never did. He didn't let Sam in, he just didn't have a choice.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Note: This is a best friend/lovers AU. Seniors in high school. Kind of sadish? AND OH, GUYS, it's M. Kind of guy on guy action. It's really not graphic at all, though. But eh. Don't like, don't read.

They're TOTALLY OOC because well a) this is an AU story and b) I'm filing the prompt I got, and this is what was implied. (:

This is the first prompt I've been given;

For McKenzie C: I hope this is what you wanted. I tried to make it steamy with implications of bottom!Dean. LOL.

Dean doesn't sleep. He barely eats. He walks around like a damn zombie; with his eyes unfocused and mouth set one expression.

He smiles for Jo; because she'd kick him in the ass if he didn't at least try. He smiles for his parents, because he can see the way his mom worries.

In any normal situation, he'd be smiling for Sam, too; but not anymore. Not since he fucked up with his best friend.

See, Dean has this issue with commitment. And when he realized that the love he had for his best friend was more than platonic, he panicked.

He panicked and he said some cruel stuff. Things that make him cringe, and hurt, and make his eyes sting. Things that he didn't mean.

"Dean, what's gotten into you, man?" A confused and hurt Sam said, reaching out a hand to place on his friend's shoulder. Dean slapped it away.

"Stay the fuck away from me, okay? I can't be your friend anymore, Sam. I don't want to. You—you piss me off."

"Where…where is this coming from?"

The more Sam's voice broke, the more Dean said.

"I hung out with you because I felt bad for you. Your parents don't like it that you're a faggot." The words hurt, Dean knew they hurt, because Sam cringed, stepping back. Dean wanted to hug him; wanted to kiss him. But he couldn't. He had issues. He was messed up. He was gay, too. He had relationship issues. He was irresponsible and 18, and so very in love. So in love that he couldn't breathe around Sam.

"You're annoying, and I hate you."

Sam was silent for a few moments.

"You don't mean that." He whispered hoarsely, and it took everything in Dean to keep his eyes on the floor, and not at the broken mess that was his once best friend.

"I—I mean every word." He lied, his hands balled into fists. This was better for everyone. Sam could be with someone who'd make him the happiest person; who'd treat him like a king. And Dean wouldn't have to worry about Sam finding someone better if they dated. He wouldn't have to deal with that again.

Dean hadn't noticed Sam's departure until five minutes later.

That night, he wept harder than he ever had, and didn't tell a soul.

Dean's been living like a zombie for 3 months now. He sees Sam around school, but Sam's eyes never leave the floor. He stays with Ruby, who for some reason doesn't look at Dean with anything but curiosity and sadness.

It makes Dean feel even worse that Sam probably told her it was his fault; not Dean's.

"You have to talk to him sometime, Dean." Jo's sitting on Dean's bed, brushing her blonde hair. She knows the whole story; and while she was so, so mad at him for about 2 weeks, she couldn't give him up. They'd been friends for far too long, and she knows Dean's issues.

"He loves you, Dean." She continued, putting the brush down. Jo's not usually a sentimental person, but she knows when enough is enough.

"You're both miserable. Seriously, seriously miserable. You need each other, even if it is as just friends. You guys would figure something out, because you guys fucking have to, or else you're both going to end up dead."

The words hit Dean pretty hard, and he realized that she wasn't that far off. He didn't really know about Sam; but he knew that sometimes he woke up and felt like he'd rather be dead than have Sam upset with him.

"But Jo—I don't…I don't know how to—to—"

"I get it, you're romantically retarded. But I see the way Sam still looks at you. He'd take you back as a friend even after everything you've said to him if you just told him you were fucking sorry.. Hell, he'd probably take you back as more if you just told him the truth."

Dean was more than romantically slow, he was terrified. He didn't show it at all; he played it off by having random flings and one night stands, and by just being a snarky asshole.

But Sam was different. He didn't want that with Sam.

"You're damn impossible." Jo muttered, getting up off his bed and out of his house, leaving Dean to his thoughts.

It was 7 p.m. on the next night, and Dean was watching TV in the living room. His parents were spending the weekend at his sister's college, so he had this Friday night to himself. At least, he did until the doorbell rang.

Thinking it was Jo, he didn't bother pulling on a pair of pants over his boxers and opened the door.

Standing before him, looking slightly guarded and sheepish was Sam. The look on his face was one of his heart on his sleeve; as if just seeing Dean was enough to break him all over again.

Dean sure felt that way.

When no one said anything, Sam cleared his throat. "I—um—Jo called me. She said your parents were out, and…and if we didn't talk she'd lock us in a closet. I kind of—she scares me."

Dean could tell Sam was trying to go for humorous, so he let his face fall into a small smile. It was mostly genuine; the fact that Sam still wanted to talk to him was a God send already.

"Uh, yeah, she'd really—she'd do it, too. Anyway, um, come in. I bet she's watching." Dean noticed the small woosh of a breathy chuckle-noise thing escape Sam's lips, and his belly clenched so hard he thought he was going to die.

Sam was talking to him again.

They sat down on Dean's couch like they had a million times before, except now it was different. Now, it looked like they were both trying to not break into tears.

Which was really unmanly, but when it came to Sam, Dean couldn't do anything but beg, and love, and hurt.

After another few moments of uncomfortable silence, Dean decided it was now or never.

"I didn't mean it." He whispered, physically forcing his eyes to look over at Sam. Sam was watching him intently, lower lip quivering slightly. They were 18 year old boys, but for some reason, they were weak around each other.

"Those words wouldn't have meant anything from anyone else. Do you know how bad you hurt me? The one person who I trusted with everything in me, the one person who I thought was going to be my friend forever, the one person who makes me hurt like a god damn chick, basically calling me worthless."

"I'm sorry." Dean uttered pathetically, turning his body to face Sam. They were closer on the couch now, and their chests were heaving with restraint of tears.

"Why?" Sam croaked, staring at Dean until he was forced to look back. "Why did you say it?"

"Because I love you." Dean's voice wasn't quiet; it was actually quiet loud. Sam flinched at the tone, and his eyes widened.

"Because I love you," Dean started again, softer, "Because I love you so fucking much it's scary. Because I don't do feelings, because I had to get away from you before I broke you and you broke me, because I don't know what I'm doing, because you weaseled your way into my life before I could stop you, because you're so God damn beautiful, because—"

"Shut up." Sam's over him now, silencing him with his mouth. It's deep and intense, and Dean can't help the pathetic little whimper that leaves his throat when Sam leans him down on the couch, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.

He blankets Dean's body with his own, pulling Dean's face into his hands, and kisses his forehead; his eyelids; his nose. Dean can't help the way he shivers under Sam's touch. Dean's never had this before; he doesn't know what to do.

He doesn't even know if he's worth it.

Dean turns his head away and raises his hips, moving them against Sam's. Sam lets out a stuttered groan but doesn't stop him. He just takes Dean's face back into the palm of his hand and strokes his cheeks. The other hand slips under Dean's shirt; letting his fingertips ghost over smooth, warm skin. Dean's trembling again, and he should be embarrassed, but right now he can't even think.

Eventually, Dean just gives up. He lets go. Sam's broken through his wall of stone; he's nestled his way right into the crook of Dean's heart, and he's not budging. Dean lets Sam see everything he's always trying to hide. He's showing him the fear, and the love, and the longing. He's showing him honesty; something he hasn't given anyone in a long time.

Sam just smiles softly, the corners of those beautiful lips turning up slightly as he pushes down for another kiss. Dean makes a broken, choked off little noise that Sam laps up eagerly; teeth gently scraping teeth as he runs his fingers up Dean's side.

Dean feels like he's being torn apart. Ripped to shreds and itty-bitty pieces by Sam's hands. But he's not scared anymore, because he knows Sam's going to put him back. Sam's taking all of these pieces and putting him back together the right way.

Sam is different. Sam is doing things to Dean that he didn't think were possible for him. Dean didn't think he was worth being loved like this. Dean had flings; not relationships. He didn't make out with people; he fucked them and left. Or they left. But never like this. He never wanted them to stick around in the morning. He never wanted to get old with them and buy a dog and a house. He didn't want to cook pancakes with them when the night was done.

He didn't want any of that, until Sam. He wants it all with Sam.

"I'm sorry…"He mumbles brokenly again, clawing at Sam as if he were trying to leave. "Stay with me." He croaks, digging his fingers into Sam's back until he arched it. He's clutching at Sam like he'll fall apart if he lets go.

"Staying." Sam gasps hoarsely, and it's a sound Dean can get used to. It's a sound Dean wants to get used to.

Suddenly they're in nothing but their boxers, and Dean is rutting against Sam, desperate for some sort of contact. He has never been this desperate before. He's beginning to realize that everything, literally everything, is different with Sam.

He realizes he's content with this; just kissing. He's never kissed anyone before, without it leading to sex. Kissing was always just a little warm up. Now, Dean realizes that it'd be okay if all they did was kiss. All night.

Sam gently bites at his pulse point, and Dean all but fucking keens, arching up into Sam. He could feel Sam smirk; he knew he found Dean's weak spot, but he didn't even care. Dean was okay with Sam finding out everything about him.

They make out like they're in love, and after a while they just lay there. It's not awkward, because Sam is watching him like he's the most precious thing in the world, like he can't breathe without him, and Dean is burrowed into Sam's arms and he's cuddling and he doesn't even care. He doesn't care because nothing has ever felt so good in his life.

"We can make pancakes in the morning." He mumbles into Sam's chest, because suddenly it's somehow 12 am and he's so tired and content, and he feels like a sated cat who can just stretch out all over Sam.

Sam smiles lovingly, pressing a kiss to Dean's forehead. "Only if you put chocolate chips in them."

"Me? Who says I'm cooking?" He muttered sleepily, fighting to keep his eyes open. Sam finds him to be the most beautiful thing on this planet.

"I said so. Or I'm not waking you up with sex." Sam grinned, nibbling heatlessly on Dean's jaw. Dean just about purred.

"Bitch." He pressed a kiss to Sam's collarbone.

"Jerk." Sam responded fondly, pressing another kiss to Dean's temple.

Dean should be freaking out, because this is exactly what he always avoided in fear of it ending. Instead, he tucked his face into the crook of Sam's neck, and fell asleep.

He wanted this forever.

Reviews make me SO HAPPY. And they keep me writing. C:

Hee, I usually keep my Deans scruffy and feeling-avoidant,

But ohhhh this was so pleasing to write. I actually had a blast.

This was a prompt from McKenzie! I hope you liked it.

She wanted a little angst, bottom!Dean, steamy moments, and a happy ending.

I hope I kind of fulfilled your wishes. C:
I'm in a writing mood! Send me some prompts and I'll see what I can do. C:

I hope you all enjoyed reading!
Comments please me greatly c: