“Look at you,” Jack says with wonder, the kind of wonder he reserves for the sun setting on the crystal beaches of Laturnia, for exploding stars and technicolor nebulae. “You grew up.”
It’s been eight years since Captain Jack last saw Sam Winchester. That young gangly kid road tripping with his big brother across the US has suddenly turned into a man. He was more confident, for one, though it’s hard for Jack to put a finger on what the difference is, exactly. Sam smiles less, but somehow he’s more content, complete, and Jack feels a brief pang when he realizes he’s had no hand in this completion. But for now he consoles himself by studying the way Sam’s shirt clings to his muscles even through the light sweater he’s wearing.
“And you got kind of hot.” Jack says, laughing at Sam’s surprise.
Sam shakes his head and looks away because Jack’s smile is too bright, too honest. The man was is rarely honest and Sam hates that he choose this moment to be honest about him. Under Jack’s gaze Sam feels like he’s on stage, being applauded for doing nothing but existing. It’s uncomfortable because he’s not used to it, but he doesn’t hate it. He just has a hard time figuring out why, whenever Sam walks in the room, he’s the only thing Jack looks at.
“Yeah I guess it’s been awhile,” Sam says softly, sneaking glances at Jack only when he’s looking away. Sam can’t wait for that moment when they finally get past the uncomfortable hellos, because there’s a heat curled up in his stomach, a desire that’s lain dormant for eight years, and maybe he won’t ever tell Jack that he’s missed him but Sam has a pretty good idea how to show him.