A/N: This is my second attempt at this fandom, but my first published attempt. I'm not sure where the story is going to take me. I wrote this in about an hour and a half and am just going to self edit and publish. No outline. And for me, that's huge 'cause I have a tendency to over-think and over edit.

Happy reading!

Oh, and if you like, please review!

Sam was seventeen the first time he actually managed to pin me to the ground.

It was a breezy day out in the Nevada desert and I will always remember the way the dust and sand swirled around behind Sam's head.

The way his too long hair curled around his cheeks to frame his suddenly too adult features.

The way he smiled in victory, but not smirking or gloating… Just, quietly happy.

It was difficult, in that moment, to reconcile the child Sam had been to the man he was becoming. His shoulders were already broader than mine, and he was big. Not that I was small by any stretch of the imagination, mind you. But Sam was just gigantic… freakishly so. Muscled thighs pinned my legs and huge hot palms handcuffed my wrists above my head, and I remember thinking, for the very first time…

I'm going to hell.

My wrists burned where he held them and sweat pooled slightly on my chest, my tee shirt sticking uncomfortably in odd places here and there. And I couldn't have cared less…

Because Sammy… Sam now, he was fucking beautiful.

When had that happened?

And my chest swelled with pride even as another kind of heat altogether gathered and coiled deliciously in the pit of my stomach, and lower still.

His body shifted and he was flush against me, from sternum to hips and suddenly my veins were on fire. And again, I knew that I was going to hell. And I totally deserved it. Because my chest felt tight and my palms were sweating and as he leaned closer, ducking his head to use the crook of his elbow to wipe the sweat from his brow, all I wanted was for him to kiss me.

Hot, damp breath puffed against my neck and my body canted up slightly in want.

It was only by some miracle that it could also be interpreted as resistance to the situation. I've never been one to just give in, after all. So, true to form, my struggles renewed with vigor, but he only laughed. His voice was low now. Deep and rumbling and rich in the most sensual way… and it was echoing through every cell in my body. It was so hard to keep my throat from voicing my arousal. And speaking of hard…

"Are you going to admit defeat?"

I laughed, I couldn't help it. I'm going insane, and to hell… and everywhere in between them.

"I'm not the one who's going down today, baby boy."

This thing… this desire… I don't know where it's coming from but it doesn't feel wrong. And it should. Fuck, but it really should. The hold on my wrists lessens just the tiniest bit as he backs off a little to grin down at me. I pulled and startled him just enough to get my right leg free. I brought it up and hooked it around the front of his waist, then pulled it back down with all of my might. In a flash, Sam was flat on his back, and I was the one pinning him to the dust and the dirt.

It wasn't until I stopped laughing again that I realized our position and really took stock of things. Sam was stretched out beneath me, not even bothering to struggle. And the whole thing was so surreal, because I was holding him down with purpose. My hands clenching and unclenching fiercely as my breathing sped up… I was perched in between his thighs; hips pressed tight and I'm absolutely mesmerized by the way the late afternoon sun danced through the hair splayed around his head like a halo.

If ever there was such a thing as angels, then they were made from Sammy's image… No joke.

But it was the way he looked up at me in that moment that caused my throat to close. He had his eyes half closed, and looked for all the world like he was absolutely content… at peace, right where he was. And later on, when I'm alone in the shower, I remember this moment with crystal clarity. Seven years go by afterwards… But it never leaves me. It never goes away. The long line of his throat as his head lolls lazily to the left. Like he trusts me so completely… like he knows he'll always be safe right here, with me.

It pulled at something inside me, pulled and twisted and yanked until my heart was pounding so hard that all I could hear was the blood thrumming in my ears.

"Training's over for today, Sam… time for lunch."

In my minds eye things ended with a much more interesting climax than that. There, underneath the hot spray I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be lying with him like that without the training... without the need to be violent or aggressive… To know what it feels like to just hold him… to touch him until he's panting and gasping in whole new ways, and to make him crave my hands, my lips and my tongue.

…To be gentle.

I came right then, without warning, and it was so powerful that my legs were trembling for some time afterwards. And as I watched the remnants of this first act of transgression swirl down the rusted opening of the shower drain, I sighed. I knew I should feel some sort of remorse, or perhaps regret… or even better, shame. But none of those were rising in my stomach. And it took me a very long time to figure out why that was.