FIC: Full Circle
This is a birthday present for Kuhekabir. One which I hope she enjoys. Happy Birthday!
Full Circle
Pairing: John/Sam/Dean
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Double Penetration. Bottom!Sammy. Just-barely-legal Sam (mentioned)
Summary: The aftereffects of the witch's spell lasted for more than 4 years.
A/N: This is the direct sequel to my fic Eros and you probably need to read that one first. Beta'd by Unrequited666
The first time Sam woke, it was to Dean's mouth on his cock, and John's fingers spreading him open. Too out of it to protest - or even move - he allowed them to move him onto his stomach, Dean lying beneath him rubbing their cocks together. He moaned when John pushed into him, Dean kissing him to muffle the noise.
It was like they were doing their best to keep him quiet. Dean swallowed every moan, every keen that he made. John fucked into him with long, gentle strokes, purposely missing his prostate. It was such a slow build up that Sam didn't even notice his orgasm building until it crashed over him. Dean drank that sound down too, using the action to cover the sound of his own release.
John didn't last much longer, emptying himself into Sam with a groan.
Within minutes the three of them were asleep again, curled around each other.
***
Sam was the first to wake, confused and sore in places he didn't even realise he could be sore. He was curled up between two warm, hard male bodies, and it took him only seconds to realise who they were - John and Dean. The night before came back to him in a flurry of images, leaving Sam reeling, both in shock and arousal.
John and Dean were still out, their bodies gravitating to the warm body between them. Survival was one instinct that was followed, even in sleep. Somehow, Sam managed to extricate himself without waking them, watching as they immediately curled into each other in his absence. Jealously hit Sam like a cannonball - hard and fast - and he fought the urge to wedge himself between them again; the urge to wake Dean and John up and see if they couldn't replay last night.
There were pieces of clothing strewn around the cellar-like room, and Sam suddenly realised he was naked, and so were Dean and John. He groaned with the renewed desire to join them again, but viciously squished it down. He needed to get them all out of here before that witch came back.
Sam quickly found his clothes and got dressed. Then he turned to consider what to do about his father and brother. His body - his libido - was telling him to wake them up. His brain was urging him to get them some place safe.
His mind won.
***
He managed to get them both dressed, and Dean safely out to the impala before either of them woke up. Thankfully, the desire he felt when he was around them seemed to disappear when he was only around one of them. It had to be keyed into both of them.
"Sammy? John asked as Sam reached out to help his groggy father to his feet. "What happened? Where's the witch?" he seemed confused, not sure where he was. "Where's your brother?"
"He's in the car," Sam said.
John relaxed. "You got that witch then," he said, trust and pride in his voice. "After Dean and I were caught."
"Yeah, Dad. She's gone."
And he didn't even feel guilty about lying, not about this.
"Good boy, Sammy," John said. "Good boy. Let's go get your brother."
No, Sam didn't feel guilty at all.
***
As it turned out, Sam was the only one who remembered what had happened with the witch. If Dean and John did remember, then Sam admired their acting ability. It was certainly better than his was.
Sam had definitely come off worse from the encounter than the rest of his family. Aside from the strong lust that hit him whenever the three of them were in the same room, Sam also had to deal with remembering what had happened between them.
It would hit him at the worst moments. Dean would be cooking dinner, concentrating to ensure he didn't burn it. When Dean set himself a task, he rarely deviated, tackling the monsters they fought or a common chore like cooking dinner with the same focus and intensity. And Sam would suddenly recall what it felt like to have all that focus turned on him with only one intention. Or, John would laugh and Sam would be reminded of what his father looked like in the throes of orgasm, head thrown back in pleasure.
It was driving him insane.
Finding the offer from Stanford University was like a godsend. It was his way out; the best way to get rid of the temptation was to take himself out of the equation.
He'd prepared arguments - he wanted to study pre-law, and wouldn't it be good to have a lawyer to call in case anything happened? It wouldn't be forever, and he could still hunt sometimes. He'd stay sharp. He'd stay in contact.
Turns out, he shouldn't have bothered. John didn't even give him time to make his arguments, just accused him of not caring about his family. Sam had to bite his lip not to shout that he was doing this so he wouldn't cause the destruction of what was left of his family.
But while John always accused him of not being able to follow orders, Sam had been raised to obey. The order from his father was clear - Leave.
He left.
***
Four Years Later
Sam hoped time and distance would dull this insane feeling that cropped up whenever he saw his father and brother at the same time, but now, standing in a small, enclosed room with the two of them, he knew it was pointless. He would probably be affected by that witch's spell for the rest of his life.
They were in a hotel room, and there was a bed, and both John and Dean were sitting on it, Dean half-naked while John tended his wounds, minor though they were. Sam knew he was going to be next, and he didn't know how well he'd cope with either of them touching him while they were both in such close proximity.
Sam was slowly backing towards the door, hoping he'd be able to escape before they noticed him.
It didn't work. John turned his dark eyes onto Sam, raising an eyebrow as if to ask ‘where do you think you're going?'
"I'm going to get some ... ice," he said, answering the unasked question.
"No, you're going to stay here and be treated, like your brother. The ice can wait," John countered.
"But I'm fine, they didn't get me."
It was a lie, and everyone knew it.
"Besides, you might be injured. Dean should make sure you're ok, and I'll go get ice," Sam struggled to continue when John started walking over towards him.
"I wasn't in that battle, Sammy."
"O-oh. Well, I'll be fine. I can treat myself. You should rest."
John was in touching distance now, and Sam had to fight not to lean towards him, not to invite his touch. The look on John's face was unreadable.
"What are you hiding?" John asked.
"What? Nothing!" Sam denied, looking to Dean for help and immediately regretting it. Dean was still half naked, the gash on his cheek and the light bruising on his chest doing nothing to hide his beauty. Sam gulped, hoping his erection was not tenting his pants too badly, and turned back to his father.
"You're hiding something, Sam," John said, his voice hard.
Sam felt a thrill of arousal race through him. That was John's Command Voice, the one that was a mix of steel and honey, and made Sam want to do whatever he was told to, especially if it involved nakedness.
Sam pulled himself out of those thoughts with a gasp. This was definitely NOT the time.
He glanced at the door, debating whether he'd have enough time to get out before his family tried to stop him. John saw the look though, and motioned to Dean, who moved between Sam and the door. No way out. Sam gulped.
Sam took a step backwards - the bathroom was behind him, he could lock himself there. He'd be safe there, right? He turned and bolted, needing the sanctuary that he hoped a closed, locked door would provide him.
It was a futile gesture. He'd gotten two steps when a hand closed around his bicep. Dean.
"Take him to the bed," John ordered, and Sam shivered. He knew his father didn't mean it like that, but oh God, just the words had him raring to go.
Dean frog-marched Sam over to the bed, sitting him down, then sitting down next to him, John coming up on Sam's other side. Dean was still holding his bicep in a vice-like grip, and showed no signs of letting go soon.
"Where are you hurt?" John asked in a no-nonsense tone. Sam paused. He had to tell them something to get them off his back, before he lost control and crossed the line.
"My back," he said quickly. He rolled over, laying on his hands so that his back was presented to them. Hopefully, his will would be strong enough to allow them this if he couldn't see or touch them. Hopefully.
He felt hands lifting his shirt, pushing up to his armpits. Fingers traced his back, no doubt feeling for contusions that they couldn't see. Sam wished he did have a bruise or something, just so this would be over sooner.
"Lift your arms up, Sammy," John ordered. Silently, Sam did as he was told, allowing them to remove his shirt. His hands went immediately back under his chest as the fingers lightly brushed his shoulder blades, and the back of his arms. Sam couldn't withhold a hiss of pain as the fingers touched a sore on the back of his shoulder - just a scrape. He also couldn't hold in the low moan when he felt lips (Dean's, because they felt fuller) kiss the scrape better. Dean chuckled, low in his throat, and the sound sent another jolt of arousal through Sam.
John's voice was husky when he spoke next. "Better check everywhere. Make sure he's not hiding any more injuries from us."
Sam gasped, trying to turn, to get away, but hands - Dean's he realised - held him down, while John pushed his jeans down. It was tight - especially with them still being done up, but now that Dean was holding Sam on his side between them, it was easy for John to reach around and pop the button on Sam's jeans. They went down quickly after that, the boxers following. The eldest Winchester threw them into a corner of the room.
John's hands spread his ass cheeks. "Gotta check here too, Sammy," he said. "Just in case."
Sam only whined, struggling to move - to get closer or further away, he had no clue.
Sam buried his face in Dean's shoulder to muffle the gasp that escaped him when John kissed his hole, following it by sliding a finger inside him.
Oh God, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't do this again, couldn't give his body (and heart) and then have them not remember again. It was the spell that was affecting them again, he was positive - he'd felt something wash over the three of them when they'd pushed him to the bed, but his mind was clear. For some reason, it wasn't affecting him like it must be affecting them.
John's finger found his prostate and Sam let out a moan, which Dean muffled this time, kissing him heatedly. Sam gave a halfhearted struggle before giving up, surrendering to the kiss.
Dean and John seemed to sense this small victory - John added another finger and began a constant assault on Sam's prostate, while Dean gentled his kiss, making love to Sam through his mouth.
Dean's hands were mapping the planes of Sam's chest, praising Sam reverently as he did. "Gorgeous, Sammy, so pretty, so hot. Want you so bad, wanted you for ages Sammy. Wanna fuck you, make you mine-" John growled and Dean amended his sentence without missing a beat, "ours, forever Sammy. Make you ours forever. Can I?" The last was whispered into Sam's ear.
"Please..." Sam whimpered, arching back onto his father's fingers inside him.
John removed his fingers in a move that simultaneously had Sam moaning at the pleasure, and whining at the loss. They started to move him, hands firmly placed on his hips, until Sam was hovering over John, who was now laying on his back on the bed. John held Sam's butt cheeks open, while Dean guided his father's cock into his brother's body. Sam moaned at the feeling of being full again.
There was no movement for all of about 10 seconds before Sam bucked down, forcing his father's cock deeper inside himself. John responded in kind, fucking up into Sam with short, hard thrusts. Sam moved up and down on John's cock, rocking back and forth, trying to hit that spot inside him.
John was muttering a mixture of praise and curse words whenever his lips weren't on some part of Sam. Sam's vocabulary wasn't much better, consisting mainly of moans and pleas. He'd almost completely forgotten about Dean, until he felt his brother drape himself over his back, a finger sliding into his already full entrance.
All movement stopped. Sam felt like he'd stopped breathing.
"Can you take me too, Sammy? Can you?" Dean's voice was soft, desperate, and filled with concern under the lust. Sam knew no matter how much Dean wanted this, if Sam said no, he wouldn't force him.
John choose that moment to begin fucking him again, and Sam keened, turning his head to capture Dean's lips with his own. The kiss they shared was heated, full of fire and passion, and when Sam broke it, he rested his forehead against Dean's, and nodded.
Dean gave him a wicked grin, so filled with lust and dark promises that it made Sam shiver, and kissed him again, devouring his mouth. Sam just let Dean do whatever he wished, content to be carried along.
John stopped again, and Sam whined, bucking against him, trying to get his father to fuck him again, until he felt it - Dean's finger (or was it fingers now?) pushing further inside him, opening him up more. It hurt, but he knew it would, and John was distracting him, pinching his nipples and kissing him. Sam groaned, feeling another finger slide in, feeling Dean scissor them. His brother placed kisses along his spine, sliding his fingers out, before carefully, slowly, edging his way in alongside their father's cock.
Sam keened in pain, his breath coming in short, harsh pants. He was so full, too full, but it felt so good.
Dean and John held still for as long as they could, trying to let Sam adjust. John was the first to move, sliding out slowly and thrusting back in. Sam gasped, head thrown back, where Dean captured his lips for another kiss. Sam didn't seem to have any complaints, so John did it again. This time, just as John had slid back in, Dean began to move, mimicking John. The set up a rhythm, one sliding in as the other slid out, going ever so slowly, until the pace became too much for Sam.
"More, please, faster," he begged.
Dean gave a throaty chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a groan, and complied. John wasn't even fully inside Sam when Dean began to pull out, before snapping his hips and thrusting into Sam, hard. Sam screamed.
John had been in the process of pulling out when Sam cried out, and he stopped, concern for Sam overcoming the need temporarily.
That is, until Sam leant down and kissed him hard. "Don't you dare stop!" he hissed.
Nodding, John started fucking him again, and Sam grunted, pushing back to meet their thrusts. Dean and John alternated their thrusts, although sometimes they misjudged. Then Sam really felt like he was being torn apart from the inside by them, as their inward thrusts coincided.
All too soon, Sam felt that familiar pull in his stomach, a quivering heap that he'd only ever felt with these two. It built to an overwhelming level, before crashing over him. Sam came hard, mewling as he covering John's stomach with his seed.
John and Dean came at the same time, the sensations of being inside Sam together, feeling the other's cock sliding against their own inside that hot tight heat coupling with the sounds of Sam's pleasure sending them over.
Dean lay, panting, against Sam's back for a while, relishing the feeling of being inside his brother, feeling his father there too; of being connected in such an intimate way with family. He slid out once he'd softened somewhat, hearing Sam groan at the sensation of cock sliding against over-sensitive skin. John gave Sam a gentle kiss in apology as he and Dean pulled Sam's boneless body off John's cock, carrying him over to the other bed.
Sam once again in the middle, they all climbed into the bed, curling around each other. Dean's hands trailed up and down Sam's back, rubbing here and there, trying to get rid of some of the tension that was seeping back into his brother.
"Sammy? What is it?" John asked, noticing it as well.
"Will you remember this in the morning?" Sam's voice had a pleading, little boy quality to it, and it pulled at Dean's heart.
"Of course," John replied. "Why wouldn't we?"
Dean nodded, "You're ours, remember. You promised."
Sam buried his head in Dean's chest. "Tell me again in the morning," he whispered.
***
The next time Sam woke, it was to John's mouth on his cock, and Dean's fingers spreading him open.
~Owari