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Homeless Moose

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Sam yanked the eviction notice off his door, once he entered the apartment he crumbled and tossed it with the rest of the pile beside the entrance. He only had fifteen days left before he would be kicked out.

He couldn't afford to pay the place anymore due to the renting rising. Sam barely made it with payments— and that's because he had budgeted himself— but now, he couldn't.

The only person who could save him was his boyfriend. Sam had hoped that Dean would suggest they move in together. Not because he was close to being out of a home, but because he and Dean had been together for a while and it was about time they settled down.

But Dean never brought up the subject, which meant that Sam would be the one to do it. Tonight, they were going to have a nice dinner in a restaurant across town. Maybe it would be a perfect opportunity.


Dean talked about his day, while cutting his steak and chuckling about a joke he heard from a co-worker. Sam was half-paying attention, not really eating, instead he was debating if he should tell Dean the truth. He was beginning to get nervous.

"You okay?" Dean asked, placing the utensils down, then placed his hand on top of Sam's.

"Yeah— Sorry. I just have a lot in my mind," Sam confessed, caressing Dean's hand with his thumb. Well, it was now or never. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What is it, Sam?" Dean frowned when Sam wasn't facing him. "You don't like the food, do you? I can get you something else if you like—"

"No! I mean, the food is fine," he finally gazed upwards, "it's just… How do you think are relationship is going?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, pulling away as he said, "Good, right? I know I can be super busy and kind of a workaholic, but when I'm with you, it feels like I can be myself."

Sam smiled.

"And in a few years if things go really well we can move in together."

Sam's smile faded.

"Y-Years?" Sam stammered.

Dean's lips formed in a straight line, then said, "Look, it's nothing personal, Sam, it's just I had a bad experience with an old boyfriend. It was a mess, and I was a dumbass for putting our names on the lease. I just don't want to go too fast in something I don't know for sure. Is that okay?"

As much as it pained Sam to hear, he knew where Dean was coming from. They had been dating for only eight months; it wasn't enough to settle down. "Yes, of course," Sam immediately answered, nodding. "I completely agree with you."

Dean let out a relief sigh and then continued eating. Sam forced a smile as Dean went back to the conversation about the joke from work. But Sam didn't listen, he watched Dean's lips move instead, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now.

Sam couldn't tell Dean his problem now, not with what Dean told him. He didn't want to guilt trip him.

Well... it looked like Sam was on his own.


Three weeks later.

It was nighttime. Dean was arguing with somebody on the phone: work related. "I told you that I need that meeting at nine." He was pacing around the sidewalk, then absentmindedly entered in a park.

"Can you do your job right for once!" he hissed. Dean rolled his eyes when the other caller began to shout back, prompting Dean to lower his phone, away from his ear. As he got closer to the resting area, Dean saw a familiar figure laying down, uncomfortably, on a too small concrete bench.

"I'll call you later," Dean said, hanging up and rushing to Sam. "What are you doing? This late at night, Sam?" he raised his voice, demanding to know.

Sam yelped as he sat up, blinking since his eyes were blurry from sleep. "Dean? What are you doing out here?"

"I should be asking you that. What the hell, man?" Dean eyed the huge backpack that was resting against bench from the ground. "Were you going to sleep here—" He halted when he saw Sam turning away, with guilt. "Better question, how long have you been sleeping out here?" Dean gritted his teeth. He got a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.

"It's really not important," Sam mumbled.

"Tell me now."

Sam gulped, then said, "Five days."

"Five—" Dean ran a hand through his hair, "five days! Are you kidding me? When were you going to tell me you were homeless?" He knew he was being harsh, but Dean didn't care, all he cared was that his boyfriend was sleeping in the streets.

Sam's lips slightly quivered, eyes close to tearing up. "I couldn't tell you, Dean. You didn't like the idea of moving in together so soon. I-I didn't want to bother you with this."

"This is different!" Dean huffed. "You're homeless. Do you really think I'm that heartless that I would leave you out here in the dark?" When Sam didn't answer him, Dean felt a stabbing pain in his heart. "Wow. And I thought things were going so well."

"Dean—" Sam started.

"No, stop. Have a good night out here." Dean spun around and began to walk away, not once glancing over his shoulder. He didn't know what hurt more: Sam not giving him an answer or Sam not running to catch him.


Dean tried to fall asleep, he really did, and yet, there he was, staring at the digital clock on his nightstand.

It had been an hour since he left Sam in the park. One hour that Sam was by himself. Alone. In the dark. Jesus Christ... How could Dean do that?

Dean tossed and turned, images of Sam shivering from the cold night. What if he got hurt? Horrible thoughts of Sam getting mugged and killed filtered through Dean's mind. His boyfriend— Wait. Were they still boyfriends?

Either way, Dean couldn't just stay there and do nothing. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his keys.

It took twelve minutes to get to the park, and that was mostly because Dean was speeding his way there. Thank god Sam was still in the same spot. He rolled down the windows and shouted, "Sam, get in the car!"

Sam only propped his elbows to catch of glimpse of him before lying back down, further pissing off Dean, who stepped out of his vehicle— wearing nothing but pajamas and a generic shirt— and strode to Sam.

"I'm not going to say it again," he said, voice rising, "get in the car!"

"I don't want to," was what Dean heard from Sam.

"Look," Dean rubbed the bridges from his nose, "it's chilly out here and you seem really uncomfortable." Then in a forced calming manner, Dean said, "Please. Just do us both a favor and get in the car."

Sam hesitated, and just when Dean was about to protest, he stood from the bench and picked up his backpack. Sam looked exhausted judging by the bags under his eyes, like he hadn't had a good sleep in a while— then again, it had been five days since he slept on a real bed.

The ride back was quiet and filled with tension. Sam clutched onto his bag and glanced out the window, avoiding Dean's glower. Once they got in front of Dean's condo, he opened the door to let Sam in first, but he hesitated once again, holding onto the strap from his backpack.

"What are you waiting for?" Dean snapped. He was cranky and tired; it's really late for him to even be up.

Sam didn't reply, instead he took a few steps inside, wearing a grimace expression. Dean rubbed his temple, trying to calm down because it wasn't Sam's fault. Not entirely.

Sam put the backpack on the floor, then turned towards Dean. "Thank you, Dean. I'll be gone first thing in the morning," Sam uttered out.

Dean let out a sigh. "Don't be ridiculous. You can stay here as longest you want."

Chewing on his lips, Sam rubbed his forearm and asked, "Are we still together? I-I wouldn't blame you if we're not." Dean was quiet, making Sam's breath hitch and his heart beat rapidly. "Okay. Uh— I'll just be on the couch and let you sleep." Sam's bangs covered his eyes to hide the tears that were threatening to spill.

Dean grabbed him by his wrist before he could turn away. "Wait, Sam… I'm not going to break up with you because of this. I'm just really hurt that you didn't tell me. And yeah, I could see why you didn't… I scared you about moving in together. But that doesn't excuse the situation. You're living in the streets! You think I'm going to be happy knowing that my boyfriend is sleeping in random places? Fuck, Sam! I was worried. Scared that something was going to happen to you." Dean wasn't even aware that he was out of breath until he started to pant, and his hand on Sam's wrist had tightened.

Sam locked gaze with Dean, eyes red, then he enveloped Dean in a hug. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you… but I got scared. And I was also terrified that you were going to dump me for being homeless— I know you wouldn't do that," he rushed out when he heard Dean growl, "but old fears formed in my head."

That seemed to calm Dean down. He held onto Sam with shaky hands.

"Don't ever do that again," Dean pleaded in a hoarse voice. "Talk to me. I'm here for you. I'll help you, Sam."

Sam just nodded, too speechless to say anything. He didn't realize being homeless would affect Dean in such a way.

Dean pulled away and muttered "oh fuck it" before catching Sam in a kiss. Yeah, he was still angry and wanted to knock some sense into Sam, but he couldn't stand the thought of being away from him. Dean needed to feel Sam. He needed reassurance that Sam was safe and right there with Dean, not a vivid dream.

Sam eagerly accepted the kiss as he snaked his arms around Dean, tugging him closer until they were chest to chest. Dean groaned between Sam's lips, nibbling them a bit and then mumbled, "B-Bedroom."

They hurried into his bedroom, and once inside, Dean pounced onto Sam and crashed their lips crashed with one another, continuing where they left off.

Dean didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to let Sam stay, because there was no way he was just going to sleep and not do anything. It would be impossible not to touch Sam.

Sam cupped Dean's cheeks, whispering the words 'sorry' between the kisses they shared. As they broke away, Dean tugged Sam forward to the bed, desperate to have him close by his side. He pulled him down, making out like teenagers, like they were savoring the moment. Dean was memorizing every taste Sam had to offer him.

Sam grunted and began to take Dean's shirt off, while his lover did the same. Once they were naked, Dean lay on his back and spread his legs, making room for Sam.

As Sam reached for the lube on the nightstand, Dean stopped him, "Don't. I'm still loose from this morning— I, uh, fingered myself." He had to say when he saw Sam raising his eyebrow in question.

"That's hot," Sam whispered near his ear.

"Wait! Are you clean?" Dean nearly exclaimed, propping his elbows.

Sam blinked, then made a bitchy face. "Are you seriously asking me that now! I haven't been with anyone but you, asshole." Dean stared at Sam with an unreadable expression before he burst into laughter.

"No, Sam. Not that kind of clean. I meant like in hygiene. Have you been bathing?" Dean asked between laughs.

"Oh. Yeah, I am. I showered last night in a friend's apartment. Why? You wouldn't sleep with me if I'm filthy?" Sam straddled his waist and rubbed his torso. "You really must be a health freak if you wouldn't sleep with me dirty.

"Baby, you could be covered in dirt and I'll still have sex with you." Dean wiggled his eyebrows and gave same a flirtatious smile.

"Lucky me," Sam snorted, playfully.

Dean chuckled and pulled him down. They started slow and gentle, with Sam caressing Dean's soft skin and whispering lovely words in his ear. When Sam slipped inside Dean, he felt his lover holding onto him, as if Sam was going to disappear any moment. Dean came first, legs shaking and back arching as he shouted Sam's name.

Sam rested his forehead on Dean's sweaty collarbone, thrusting faster inside Dean before his body convulsed, spilling everything in Dean. They stayed like that for a while. Dean never let go of him, and Sam didn't want to move away just yet. It was moments like these that made Sam's heart warm up.

"Mov...with...ne," Dean's words were muffled underneath Sam.

"What?"

Dean craned his neck to stare directly at Sam. "Move in with me," he repeated with no hesitation. "I don't want you to be far away from me, Sam."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said," Dean argued, "but this is different! You and me... we're something. I think you're someone I want to spend the rest of my life with." He buried himself into the crook of Sam's neck and said in a low voice, "I need you."

Sam softly smiled and carded Dean's hair, and added, "I need you too, Dean."

"I would also like to wake up to the smell of coffee in the morning," Dean joked. Sam pretended to protest, but he already knew how Dean liked his coffee in the morning: black coffee, no cream, and one sugar packet.

With Sam drinking right beside him.