Kevin is a terrible human being.
He’s grateful to Sam, he really is. Who knows what else Crowley would have done to him if he’d been there much longer, and he knows very well that he can’t go home yet, not with the ripples of Leviathan activity still making their way through the world.
So, a life on the lam it is. (Mom’s okay, Sheriff Mills is watching out for her, that’s what important.)
Sam seems to think this is a tragedy. He doesn’t say so outright but it’s easy to tell because he keeps trying to make up for it. He makes sure Kevin’s comfortable whenever they move and asks if he’s okay all the time and does not let him do anything if he looks the least bit uncomfortable.
It’s all the more awful because Dean and Castiel are still in Purgatory (they think, it’s not like a Crowley’s a reliable source), and that knowledge shadows them everywhere. Sometimes Kevin thinks he might understand how Sam feels about that – he still remembers the terror of not knowing if Mom was okay – but the longer Kevin stays with Sam and reads up on the real things that crawl in the dark and pieces together the breadcrumbs of his life that Sam lets slip, the more Kevin comes to realize that he has no idea.
Which is why Kevin is a terrible human being. Sam’s done so much already and has so much on his plate and has to rebuild his support network practically from scratch in trying desperately to save the people he loves, and Kevin can’t stop thinking about... other things.
Like this morning. Kevin’s just gotten up but Sam’s already at his laptop, headphone on and chatting about what sounds like a lead with Charlie. If Kevin were a decent person he’d be extrapolating useful info from the snippets he can catch – something about an archive, Lovecraft and a specialist – but seeing as Kevin is not, he’s too busy being mesmerized by the way the morning light from the window casts a halo over Sam’s hair.
“Hey,” Sam says, finally noticing that Kevin’s up. “Garth’s on his way, you think you can be packed and ready in an hour?”
“Sure,” Kevin says easily. He beams, purely on reflex because a smile’s a good way to start what’s their fourth day of nothing horrible happening. Kevin tells himself he’s relieved when Sam ducks his head, returning his attention to the laptop. Kevin says, “I’ll just take a shower first.”
Kevin’s not sure when it started or if it has something to do with hero worship – it probably does, but that’s really not fair to Sam either. It’s just, some time after Sam pulled him out from Crowley’s lair and he’d finally stopped shaking and Sam sat him down for a serious talk about his options, Kevin’s lizardbrain slowly uncurled itself from its ice-cold panic and exhaled. Sam had clasped his large hands over Kevin’s and talked in soft, measured tones, and for the first time in weeks a calm settled in Kevin’s chest.
It’s safe with Sam. This is the safest place he can possible be, because this is a world with chompers and claws and demons, and Sam knows how to deal with all of those.
Sam’s got his back. Sam came to rescue him. For some reason Sam’s putting up with him when he’s got a hundred and one better things to do.
Sam also has really broad shoulders. And smells really nice. He doesn’t smile that much, but when he does, Kevin wishes he knew how to catch the spark that created it so he could incite it more often. Dean and Castiel would know; Kevin barely has a clue.
It’ll pass, Kevin tells himself. It’s just admiration and hormones and the adrenaline rush that comes from being thrown out of the carefully-constructed bubble of his previous life. One day he’ll look back on all of this and be grateful to have survived it (knock on wood) for all the knowledge it’s given him, and he’ll regard this episode with Sam with fondness.
For now, though, Kevin tries to pay Sam back as much as he can. He reads, improves his Prophet-vision, and does whatever he can to make good on Sam’s mission.
For now Kevin also takes nice, long showers where he presses his chest against the tiles and shoves a hand back into his heat between his ass cheeks, curling his fingers just hard enough against the sensitive skin there. The human mind is capable of all sorts of stupidity, Kevin knows, because Sam is a legitimate unseen hero, constantly saving the world that gives nothing back, and he’d never look twice at a geeky kid who can barely fire a gun right.
Kevin can imagine, though. Kevin imagines Sam’s huge hands on his hips, his strong thighs forcing Kevin up against the wall, his mouth hot at the back of Kevin’s neck. Sam is a gentle giant – he’s just so careful about everything — but it’s nice to imagine him losing it even if only for a while, and losing it with Kevin. In Kevin. All over Kevin. Multiple times.
Kevin sobs as he comes, the head of his cock bumping against the tiles. The sound of shower should mask it, and Kevin stands there for another minute or so, waiting for his breathing and heartbeat to get back to normal.
Kevin towels himself down and dresses quickly. He’s taken to doing that in the bathroom itself, though Sam has no such qualms dressing outside – which resulted Kevin’s blurting out, “You’re really big” the first time he’d seen Sam in a towel. But Sam must get that all the time because he’d just shrugged sheepishly and gone on his way.
Sam’s already packed up his laptop when Kevin steps out of the bathroom, and then starts in surprise. “You – you cleared up my things?”
“Well, yeah, aren’t we going?” Kevin marches the armful of stuff over to the beds, where he’ll start packing. “Faster this way.”
“That’s... you don’t have to do that,” Sam says weakly.
“It’s not a problem,” Kevin insists. “Really! What are we doing next?”
For a moment, Sam just stands there, staring at Kevin like he can’t even remember why he’s here. Panic starts to bubble at the back of Kevin’s mind – does he know, what does he know – but he lets out an exhale of relief when Sam just takes out his phone to frown at it. “Garth thinks he’s tracked down more of Lovecraft’s old writings.”
“Ah, so you think he might’ve known another way to open a portal?” Kevin hums thoughtfully. “Definitely worth checking out.”
“Yep.” Sam turns away worriedly, and Kevin takes a moment to admire the long, strong curve of his back.
Kevin is a terrible human being.