Title: How to Welcome the Unexpected
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer:  Really, they're not mine. 
Fandom: Supernatural/A:ts
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Connor Reilly 
Spoilers: Through end of season 4, basically for the first season of Supernatural. 
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Sam isn't sure how he ended up at a party, but sometimes things turn out alright. (Oh go, I should not write summaries when I am so very tired). 
Author's Notes: Written for Ethrosdemon's birthday. Also for Fryadvocate, and Kita, who wanted Connor, and sex respectively. Request was for "Winchesters/Angelverse. Mainly launching from Sam and Connor meeting at Stanford. If you bring Cordelia back from the dead you will win at life. Please hold the Spike sex." This goes somewhat along those lines, hope it's about what you were looking for, ladies. 
February 2006

Sam had always made it a point not to let anyone push him into anything he wasn't interested in. He had eighteen year's experience of being the only one who wasn't gun-ho about finding the many uses of a knife outside of a kitchen and he'd promised himself that college would be different.

"You're already a geek, Winchester," his roommate, Bryan assured him. "It won't hurt you to at least see what normal people do on Saturday night." He learned in close and said, "You might be able to use it as research."

"Well, if I can use it for extra credit," Sam shrugged. "I guess I'll hang out. But only for awhile."

His friend put his hands up to forestall the automatic disclaimer. "Right, because you've got a test or paper due Monday and you need to study for it."

"Shut up." Sam told him good-naturedly and slugged him in the arm, consciously pulling the blow so that he didn't leave a bruise. Although he'd sought out this sanctuary from the craziness of his old life, he still had to remind himself that he was one of these people. Walking into the house decorated with streamers and cases of drinks, he tolerated the light touch of Bryan's arm across his shoulder, letting the weight guide him as they walked through the doorway. He was more comfortable without bright lights and gentle hugs, but he was learning to adjust.

Bryan spun him out by a bowl that looked like it contained punch, and shook a stern finger in his face. "Now, I want you to have a drink, and then have another one, and check out the scene. Maybe you'll meet a nice girl who will share anthropology notes with you. And you have to have a little fun."

"Got it, boss," Sam muttered and waved Bryan off in the direction of a girl he wasn't dating but seemed to be seriously committed to meeting casually. Now that Bryan's attention was occupied, Sam breathed more easily. it was one thing to humor a friend and tag along to a party where he didn't know anybody, but it was another to actually be standing in a crowd and not know what he should be doing. 

Looking speculatively at the punch bowl, Sam was considering tasting it just for the sake of curiosity when someone came up behind him with enough care that he was startled. 

"I wouldn't try that unless you want to end up with a massive hangover tomorrow." 

Instead of turning and thanking him, Sam twitched and looked at the guy sideways. His only excuse was the fact that up until now, Dean and his Dad had been the only people who could sneak up on him and that this stranger could was a readjustment of what he took for granted. 

"Whoa, I didn't mean to startle you, man."

The guy wasn't tall or overtly warrior-like, and his hair fell into his face too much for him to look intimidating, but he had an unconscious care to the way he held himself that didn't fit with his wide grin and honest apology.

"No problem, I was just trying to figure out what was in this stuff." 

"If you have to ask, you probably aren't really interested in drinking it. Come on, I know where they stash the untreated drinks." He turned and led the way through the huddles of laughing strangers letting Sam decide whether he wanted to follow. He rationalized that he really was thirsty and so tracked the guy into the dining room. It was quieter, less people seemed interested in a part of the house that didn't have couches or music, and when the other guy shut the door, the noise of the party was muted enough to be pushed to the background.

Connor pulled open the refrigerator and dug through its contents. He emerged with several cans of beer and tossed one to Sam. he caught it in the air.

"Good catch." The boy stuck out his free hand. "Connor Reilly."

"Sam Winchester."

"So, I take it you don't go to many of these parties."

"What makes you say that?"

"You just stand out and look kind of confused." 

"I came with a friend."

"A date?"

"No, he's got a girl here."

"He left you to get drunk and be bored to death?" Connor snorted and hopped up on the counter, legs hanging over the edge. 

"He was just trying to make sure I was having enough fun."

"How's this supposed to happen at a party you're hating?"

"I don't hate parties, I'm just not sure what everyone's doing, or what the point of it all is."

Connor gave him a questioning look and Sam felt even more like a foreigner who had forgotten the rules. "Okay, you do know that this is college, not a monastery, right? It's okay to goof off and mess around, that's kind of the point." 

"I guess I'm, kind of a nerd."

"It's okay." Connor said, as if he was proclaiming Sam safe to the public. "You just need to have fun too. It doesn't have to be what these guys like, but you're going to end up wearing a nasty tie and working in some cubicle for the rest of your life if you don't loosen up."

"And you're preparing me for this so I can mope around and be ready for my inevitable misery?"

"Nope, I just say what I see.  and you look like you need to relax." He motioned to the counter next to him. "Here, you can start by taking a seat, you look like you're standing at attention." 

Feeling his ears flush, Sam thought that it was entirely possible that he had unconsciously straightened up while he waited for an order. He followed Connor's suggestion automatically, and had scrambled up beside him before he realized it.

Connor grinned. "See, now you're really pushing the limits."

"Won't someone mind us being in here?"

"Look, whoever organizes these things makes sure that nobody is going to be home soon enough to get in the middle of the fun, so no. So long as you don't pass out and they trip over you the next day, you're safe to live a little."

Sam glanced around the room, which felt even more like a place removed from the rest of the house and took in the drinks, the closeness, and wondered if he was missing signals. 

"Do you do this a lot?"

"What?"

"Pick out people who look bored, take them into the kitchen and try to get them drunk?" 

"Not usually." This time Sam knew he wasn't reading what wasn't there; Connor's smile put everything on the surface. 

Sam knew he wasn't drunk and couldn't use that as an excuse, and from the way Connor eyed the half empty can Sam was holding, he knew it too. He'd taken the first offer at face value, not knowing that Connor would make another, and now that it was on the table, he had to decide if he wanted to match it. If his brain came up with any more gambling metaphors, Sam was going to have to assume that he couldn't hold his liquor and that he could never tell Dean that part about this because that would be the thing that he wouldn't let Sam live down. 

He wasn't sure if this was what people did at parties; hung out with strangers in the kitchen and then thought about kissing them, but if it was, Sam might just need to try getting out more because he sort of thought it was a good plan and one that he would consider making again. For the moment though, he had to determine whether his ears were tingling because he was blushing again, or because he was just a little buzzed and had noticed that when Connor looked down, his eyelashes looked really long. When Connor scooted closer, hips touching, Sam decided that it was the long lashes thing and that he wanted to find out what it was like to loosen up and not have someone jumping on him about there being a reason to be uptight every single second.

Connor let him lean in a couple inches before he was convinced that Sam was actually serious and then he grabbed Sam's head and kissed him like he wanted to make it clear he wasn't going to back off. He was really convincing, and if Sam had been thinking about saying anything close to 'hang on while I have a moment to freak out,' he would have put it off while Connor did that thing with his tongue again.

Connor leaned into Sam until he got the message and lay back on the counter and moved to give Connor some space to crawl on top of him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the door and thought he'd mention it. 

"Don't worry, there's plenty of stuff to eat out there, and everybody else is going to be looking for the bedrooms anyhow."

Sam didn't think of himself as a dating expert, or any of the details involved, but he  wasn't totally unaware. He'd had a couple girlfriends, nothing serious, but one of them had a similar approach to making out. He was a little feral, teeth closing on Sam's lower lip and lingering on his neck as if he was simultaneously marking him and getting to know him by feeling the pounding of the blood in his veins. It brought to mind a few close calls with vampires and Sam had to remind himself that this was a totally different setting, and that this guy might seem a little odd, but he at least wasn't hiding a knife in his foot locker. Resolved to keep his old instincts separate from the present, Sam let Connor work a bruise into the skin just below his collar. 

Still, He didn't like to stand around or let somebody else do everything even when he wasn't sure of what he was doing, so Sam took a few cues from Connor and pulled him closer. 

Connor let out a puff of laughter and let Sam control their movements. Whether or not Connor had scouted this room earlier or not it was a good thing the counter was wide enough to accommodate two grown men because neither of them were being careful about whether they were moving. But although he wasn't worried about running out of room, but the surface wasn't the most comfortable. He wanted to push Connor up against something and not realize that the thing poking into his back was probably the edge of the sink. Rather than pausing to make the suggestion of relocating, Sam just wanted to have room to maneuver the way he wanted to. 

Connor was resting between his legs and so Sam grabbed him and slid them off of the counter. He was sure he could catch himself and guessed, correctly, that Connor was quick on his feet too. Upright, they lurched unsteadily together as Sam guided them to the wall. 

Shifting together as if they were dancing, they found a position that worked. Connor's hands slid below Sam's waist; and as he worked Sam's shirt free and undid his belt, he seemed to understand that Sam was unsure, and so made the next move.

When Connor's fingers brushed against his erection, Sam's breath hitched and as Connor discovered the way he liked to be touched, Sam's head dropped into the crook of Connor's neck. He tried to mimic what Connor was doing and varied it with what he liked best. 

It was a good thing that Connor had the wall behind him, because a few minutes later that was the only thing keeping both of them up. 

Connor shook his head, and slugged Sam's shoulder. "Hey, having trouble breathing here, man." 

"Sorry." Sam straightened up and looked around for something to clean up with. That had to be the annoying part of doing this in anyplace besides a bedroom. Connor found a handful of paper towels and handed a couple over. 

Recognizing what could be an awkward moment, Sam didn't let it stretch it out and tilted his head to kiss Connor one more time. He got a surprisingly sweet smile as thanks. He didn't know if they were going to se each other again, but the next time someone mentioned a party, Sam would give serious thought to attending.

-end