Fic: What Matters Most (8/8)
What Matters Most a gift for lucilla_darkate
Author: chaosrosa aka gestaltrose
Title: What Matters Most (8/8)
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 see complete warnings.
Word count: 2300 or so this part
Beta: Lucie actually betaed the first three quarters of this and then real life interfered… go figure. My lovely ~biza then came through and went over the whole thing.
Warnings for this chapter: some spoilers for season one, drinking, rimming, misuse of Bobby, oral sex. This was completed last year so it might be rough compared to what you’re used to from me. Also, this isn’t a death fic but neither is it my normal happy ending.
Warnings for whole fic: Spoilers for part of season one, Slash (boy/boy everyone), Cursing, Incest, Bloodplay, Drunkenness, Alcoholism, Rimming, Frottage, Hints of Dom/sub, oh hell I’m sure I missed something. . . just be warned
Notes: See part one for disclaimer, summary and full notes
This is it my pretties, tell me what you think. Feedback = Love
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
Part Seven
Three months later and he wasn’t sure if Dean wanted to kill him or just tie him up and rape him. He got looks that said both things from his brother. Then Chicago happened, and Meg again, and the Daevas, and Dad. If things had been tense between them before, after being around Dad they fell right back into the old roles and it was both a relief and a nightmare to Sam.
They had separated from Dad because Dean had decided that Meg was right. They were a threat to him. Sam had argued against it, he wanted to stay with Dad to help him. If he was honest with himself he wanted to stay with Dad because Dean acted more like his brother and less like a scorned lover around him. Even if acting as his brother had occasionally included drunken kisses at least Sam had been in control, he had felt like he had lost it in Kansas and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it back.
Dean had taken to bringing women and men back to their hotel room to fuck. After Chicago it all came to a head one night. Dean had brought back a girl and her boyfriend. Sam listened to Dean fucking the girl while getting fucked by the boy. Pretending to be asleep until Dean had let them both out and had shut the door, Sam sat up and looked at his brother’s smug face.
“What the hell what that Dean?”
“Oh, you’re awake?” Dean asked as if he hadn’t known had been lying there listening to him.
“Well, you know, calling my name as you fuck some girl while you get fucked by her boyfriend has a way of making sure I’m awake,” Sam sniped.
“How do you know his or her name wasn’t Sam?” Dean asked.
“His name was Taylor and hers was Sara and you are an idiot.”
“Who’s the idiot who lay there pretending to be asleep?”
“Fuck you, Dean. No, wait, you already got fucked!” Sam got dressed. He had had all he could take, never mind that the entire mess was all of his making.
Sam went for a walk that turned into a run, which turned into a slog as it began to rain and then pour. Of course it would rain. Usually his temper didn’t last for very long and this time, he had a good hour in the rain just thinking. Thinking about what Dean had done and about what he had done to Dean for these past months. What he had done had been so much worse. Never explaining why he had stopped touching Dean, not that Dean had asked out loud but he had with his eyes and the occasional questioning touch that Sam had always shrugged off. Sam decided that he actually deserved much worse than what Dean had been doing to him.
Then they had hunt that went badly, then very badly. They hadn’t been talking to one another for a couple of days and Dean had been drinking fairly steadily. Sam had known that hunting for anything was a bad idea but everything he could find on bogys was that they were a slow kind of hobgoblin. Slow and stupid.
He should have known when they couldn’t find any traces of the thing at first but then they ‘stumbled’ across some tracks that things weren’t right. Part of the problem was that Sam was tired, angry and distracted and the rest of the problem was that Dean was drunk. Not his normal ‘I can function’ drunk, but ‘was that a tree I just fell into?’ drunk.
So the ‘slow and stupid’ creature maneuvered them so that they had ended up shooting each other instead of it. They somehow managed to get back to the Impala; Dean with a silver bullet in his shoulder and Sam with one in his leg that, if the squishing in his shoe was any indication, had hit a vein. He applied pressure to the wound every time they stopped but they had to keep moving to get to the car. Dean wasn’t much help but they finally made it.
Sam slid into the driver’s seat and took a look at Dean who was slumped in the seat against the passenger door his hand on his shoulder, what a pair they were. Dean roused enough to mumble something.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Bobby’s,” Dean said loud enough this time. Bobby’s? Sam had planned on taking them to the nearest hospital and said so. Dean shook his head. “Bobby, closer no questions.”
Dean had a point. So Sam pulled out and headed towards where he thought Bobby’s place was. Missing the turn off, Dean had told him so even though Sam was surprised he was still conscious. Pulling into Bobby’s yard they were greeted with a double barrel shotgun, as soon as Bobby recognized them and proved to himself that they weren’t possessed, he hurried them inside or tried to. Pulling open Sam’s door he started cursing as he saw all of the blood.
“Dean,” Sam said wanting to make sure that Bobby knew he was hurt, too. Watching as Bobby looked over at Dean slumped against the passenger door, his wound bleeding sluggishly.
“Your brother’s fine but you are both idiots,” Bobby said as he helped Sam out. “Can’t either one of you tie a tourniquet?” It was the last thing Sam heard for a while because he passed out.
Waking up, Sam saw he had an IV bag hanging above him. He must have moved because Bobby noticed.
“Mornin, sleeping beauty.”
“Dean?” The first thing out of Sam’s mouth was his brother’s name.
“Fine, he didn’t pass out from blood loss, just alcohol poisoning.” Sam’s eyes widened as he didn’t catch Bobby’s teasing. Then Bobby just kept talking, “What were you thinking? Driving with that hole in your leg?’ Sam started to say something but Bobby held his hand up. “Never mind, I smelled your brother from your side of the car.”
Finally realizing that Bobby would be a whole lot more upset if Dean had been suffering from alcohol poisoning, Sam relaxed just as Bobby sat down on a chair right beside the bed.
“What were you thinking?” Bobby asked again. “Taking your brother on a hunt, drunk.” Bobby sat back and finally seemed to be willing to listen to his unthinking self but Sam didn’t want to talk.
Bobby just waited, settling in the chair. Finally Sam gave a huff and started talking.
“Dad and Dean. . .” he launched into an explanation that he knew wouldn’t satisfy Bobby but there was no way he was going to tell the truth. That he had fucked his brother, stopped fucking his brother, and his brother had set about fucking the rest of the country.
Bobby let it slide. That was one of the things that Sam had always noticed about Bobby, unless it was life or death, right at that moment, he could let things go. He was friends with John Winchester after all.
Sam recovered slowly. Dean had had his bullet removed; Sam’s was still lodged in his thigh. Bobby had decided that after he had stitched the vein back together that Sam could live with the bullet there. If it was bothersome, he could always take it out later, oh joy.
Going back and taking care of the bogy with Dean’s help, Bobby and a sober enough Dean didn’t appear to have any trouble. But then Bobby hadn’t been dealing with a drunk and sullen Dean, it seemed to make a difference.
They came back and Sam was allowed to get up by Bobby. Watching as his brother and the man joked around Sam tried, mostly successfully to squash his feeling of jealousy. If he had problems with his brother, they were of his own making, he knew that.
“The look on your face. . .” Dean laughed.
“What didja expect? The thing darn near crawled up my pants, and after your great aim with Sam here,” Bobby patted Sam on the back, “I thought you were going to shoot me.”
Sam gave, or rather tried to give a smile. Dean wasn’t looking at him, except for a brief glance as Bobby patted him, Sam got nothing. He was acting as if Sam wasn’t even in the room.
Bobby looked between them and Sam realized this was the first time that Bobby had seen the two of them together and awake, since. Well, just since. Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you two?”
Dean shrugged and Sam said nothing he just watched Dean and then pointedly didn’t watch him.
Bobby gave a snort of disbelief and went to fix dinner.
Two days later they were getting ready to leave and Bobby pulled Sam aside. “Don’t know what you been doing. But, whatever it is ain’t working. You keep this up, this non-arguing arguing you both got going on and one or both of you could end up dead. Sam, pull your head out of your ass. Both of you are supposed to be there for each other.” Bobby stopped his speech and looked at Sam. “You gotta be there for one another, however that may be.”
Sam looked sharply at Bobby. Was he saying what Sam thought he was? Bobby just patted Sam on the back and told him to think about it and Sam was never positive.
Dean was driving and Sam settled into the passenger’s side with a sigh. He could feel the wound in his leg pull but the bullet didn’t bother him and Bobby had decided that it was fine.
“Sorry, Sammy.” It was the first words that Dean had said to him since before the hunt. Bobby must have talked with him too.
“’t’s ‘kay. ‘m sorry too.” Sam couldn’t seem to help reverting to a four year old when apologizing to his brother.
Dean had this amazing capacity to just let things go, that Sam had always admired about him. Now, Sam did consider the possibility that Dean let things go because he didn’t remember them, because of drinking, but he knew that wasn’t the case in this instance. Sam watched for a week as Dean tried to be the big brother that he never really had been.
There had been a couple of moments of tension between them. Once when Sam had reached across Dean for something and their eyes had met. It had been Dean to break contact and look away. The second had happened after Dean had had a couple drinks that had lead to a couple more and Sam ended up helping him back to their room. Sam had tripped and pulled Dean down with him. Sam managed to fall so that Dean landed on him and as Sam lay there trying to remember how to breathe, Dean lay on him and looked. Sam had been ready to reach up and pull Dean down to kiss him when Dean had quickly gotten up.
Watching Dean as he self-destructed right in front of him, Sam got to the point where he finally he couldn’t take it any longer. After a long day in the car and several almost touches and glances out of the corner of his eyes, Sam got them a room. Walking purposely into the room, he turned and locked the deadbolt behind him.
Dean held his hand up. “I know, I know. We need to talk.”
Sam was on him, pushing him up against the closest wall. “Later, maybe.” Looking down into Dean’s green eyes, Sam watched as they widened in recognition then as they filled with desire. Leaning his head down Sam kissed his brother.
It was neither gentle nor short. Breaking apart with a gasp, Dean rested his head against the wall as Sam attacked his neck, licking and biting. Sam pulled Dean’s shirt off and was a bit surprised to see no new marks. Running his fingers over the scar that ran across Dean’s chest from the last time he had cut him he was surprised as Dean groaned his name.
They were naked on the bed and Dean was writhing underneath him as he engulfed Dean’s cock in his mouth. “Sammy,” Dean moaned and Sam couldn’t stop his hips from bucking forward at the need in Dean’s voice. “Please.” It seemed to Sam that Dean had spent most of his life asking Sam for things that Sam had told him no. He had finally realized that whether or not it was good for Dean, Sam couldn’t tell him no anymore.
Moving down Sam ran his tongue around Dean’s musky hole. Licking and putting a hand on Dean’s hip as he felt him come off the bed. Sam felt the ring of muscle tighten as he ran his tongue around it. Slowly working his mouth over it, Sam was rewarded as Dean relaxed enough for him to push his tongue in.
Grabbing the lube, he slicked up his cock and after sucking a few times on Dean’s he moved. Sam put his dick at Dean’s entrance and slowly pushed in. Watching his cock disappear into his brother inch by inch no longer felt wrong. Looking into Dean’s eyes as he sank all the way in, Sam realized that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Dean. Even if it meant helping him drink himself to death. Pulling back out he slammed back in and Dean groaned.
“Sammy.”
Sam concentrated on fucking, Dean’s hard cock trapped between them as Sam leaned in to kiss him. He began to lose his rhythm Dean felt so good. “Come for me Dean,” Sam commanded and Dean complied. It wasn’t normal, hell it didn’t even come within close of normal, but it was all Sam had, so he held his brother tight and came with him.
Maybe they would find a way out of this, but probably not. Sam rolled off of his brother and wrapped his arms around him. If they died tomorrow, or next year it didn’t matter to Sam, they were both damned but Sam would try to be there for as long as Dean needed him.
Author: chaosrosa aka gestaltrose
Title: What Matters Most (8/8)
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 see complete warnings.
Word count: 2300 or so this part
Beta: Lucie actually betaed the first three quarters of this and then real life interfered… go figure. My lovely ~biza then came through and went over the whole thing.
Warnings for this chapter: some spoilers for season one, drinking, rimming, misuse of Bobby, oral sex. This was completed last year so it might be rough compared to what you’re used to from me. Also, this isn’t a death fic but neither is it my normal happy ending.
Warnings for whole fic: Spoilers for part of season one, Slash (boy/boy everyone), Cursing, Incest, Bloodplay, Drunkenness, Alcoholism, Rimming, Frottage, Hints of Dom/sub, oh hell I’m sure I missed something. . . just be warned
Notes: See part one for disclaimer, summary and full notes
This is it my pretties, tell me what you think. Feedback = Love
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
Part Seven
Three months later and he wasn’t sure if Dean wanted to kill him or just tie him up and rape him. He got looks that said both things from his brother. Then Chicago happened, and Meg again, and the Daevas, and Dad. If things had been tense between them before, after being around Dad they fell right back into the old roles and it was both a relief and a nightmare to Sam.
They had separated from Dad because Dean had decided that Meg was right. They were a threat to him. Sam had argued against it, he wanted to stay with Dad to help him. If he was honest with himself he wanted to stay with Dad because Dean acted more like his brother and less like a scorned lover around him. Even if acting as his brother had occasionally included drunken kisses at least Sam had been in control, he had felt like he had lost it in Kansas and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it back.
Dean had taken to bringing women and men back to their hotel room to fuck. After Chicago it all came to a head one night. Dean had brought back a girl and her boyfriend. Sam listened to Dean fucking the girl while getting fucked by the boy. Pretending to be asleep until Dean had let them both out and had shut the door, Sam sat up and looked at his brother’s smug face.
“What the hell what that Dean?”
“Oh, you’re awake?” Dean asked as if he hadn’t known had been lying there listening to him.
“Well, you know, calling my name as you fuck some girl while you get fucked by her boyfriend has a way of making sure I’m awake,” Sam sniped.
“How do you know his or her name wasn’t Sam?” Dean asked.
“His name was Taylor and hers was Sara and you are an idiot.”
“Who’s the idiot who lay there pretending to be asleep?”
“Fuck you, Dean. No, wait, you already got fucked!” Sam got dressed. He had had all he could take, never mind that the entire mess was all of his making.
Sam went for a walk that turned into a run, which turned into a slog as it began to rain and then pour. Of course it would rain. Usually his temper didn’t last for very long and this time, he had a good hour in the rain just thinking. Thinking about what Dean had done and about what he had done to Dean for these past months. What he had done had been so much worse. Never explaining why he had stopped touching Dean, not that Dean had asked out loud but he had with his eyes and the occasional questioning touch that Sam had always shrugged off. Sam decided that he actually deserved much worse than what Dean had been doing to him.
Then they had hunt that went badly, then very badly. They hadn’t been talking to one another for a couple of days and Dean had been drinking fairly steadily. Sam had known that hunting for anything was a bad idea but everything he could find on bogys was that they were a slow kind of hobgoblin. Slow and stupid.
He should have known when they couldn’t find any traces of the thing at first but then they ‘stumbled’ across some tracks that things weren’t right. Part of the problem was that Sam was tired, angry and distracted and the rest of the problem was that Dean was drunk. Not his normal ‘I can function’ drunk, but ‘was that a tree I just fell into?’ drunk.
So the ‘slow and stupid’ creature maneuvered them so that they had ended up shooting each other instead of it. They somehow managed to get back to the Impala; Dean with a silver bullet in his shoulder and Sam with one in his leg that, if the squishing in his shoe was any indication, had hit a vein. He applied pressure to the wound every time they stopped but they had to keep moving to get to the car. Dean wasn’t much help but they finally made it.
Sam slid into the driver’s seat and took a look at Dean who was slumped in the seat against the passenger door his hand on his shoulder, what a pair they were. Dean roused enough to mumble something.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Bobby’s,” Dean said loud enough this time. Bobby’s? Sam had planned on taking them to the nearest hospital and said so. Dean shook his head. “Bobby, closer no questions.”
Dean had a point. So Sam pulled out and headed towards where he thought Bobby’s place was. Missing the turn off, Dean had told him so even though Sam was surprised he was still conscious. Pulling into Bobby’s yard they were greeted with a double barrel shotgun, as soon as Bobby recognized them and proved to himself that they weren’t possessed, he hurried them inside or tried to. Pulling open Sam’s door he started cursing as he saw all of the blood.
“Dean,” Sam said wanting to make sure that Bobby knew he was hurt, too. Watching as Bobby looked over at Dean slumped against the passenger door, his wound bleeding sluggishly.
“Your brother’s fine but you are both idiots,” Bobby said as he helped Sam out. “Can’t either one of you tie a tourniquet?” It was the last thing Sam heard for a while because he passed out.
Waking up, Sam saw he had an IV bag hanging above him. He must have moved because Bobby noticed.
“Mornin, sleeping beauty.”
“Dean?” The first thing out of Sam’s mouth was his brother’s name.
“Fine, he didn’t pass out from blood loss, just alcohol poisoning.” Sam’s eyes widened as he didn’t catch Bobby’s teasing. Then Bobby just kept talking, “What were you thinking? Driving with that hole in your leg?’ Sam started to say something but Bobby held his hand up. “Never mind, I smelled your brother from your side of the car.”
Finally realizing that Bobby would be a whole lot more upset if Dean had been suffering from alcohol poisoning, Sam relaxed just as Bobby sat down on a chair right beside the bed.
“What were you thinking?” Bobby asked again. “Taking your brother on a hunt, drunk.” Bobby sat back and finally seemed to be willing to listen to his unthinking self but Sam didn’t want to talk.
Bobby just waited, settling in the chair. Finally Sam gave a huff and started talking.
“Dad and Dean. . .” he launched into an explanation that he knew wouldn’t satisfy Bobby but there was no way he was going to tell the truth. That he had fucked his brother, stopped fucking his brother, and his brother had set about fucking the rest of the country.
Bobby let it slide. That was one of the things that Sam had always noticed about Bobby, unless it was life or death, right at that moment, he could let things go. He was friends with John Winchester after all.
Sam recovered slowly. Dean had had his bullet removed; Sam’s was still lodged in his thigh. Bobby had decided that after he had stitched the vein back together that Sam could live with the bullet there. If it was bothersome, he could always take it out later, oh joy.
Going back and taking care of the bogy with Dean’s help, Bobby and a sober enough Dean didn’t appear to have any trouble. But then Bobby hadn’t been dealing with a drunk and sullen Dean, it seemed to make a difference.
They came back and Sam was allowed to get up by Bobby. Watching as his brother and the man joked around Sam tried, mostly successfully to squash his feeling of jealousy. If he had problems with his brother, they were of his own making, he knew that.
“The look on your face. . .” Dean laughed.
“What didja expect? The thing darn near crawled up my pants, and after your great aim with Sam here,” Bobby patted Sam on the back, “I thought you were going to shoot me.”
Sam gave, or rather tried to give a smile. Dean wasn’t looking at him, except for a brief glance as Bobby patted him, Sam got nothing. He was acting as if Sam wasn’t even in the room.
Bobby looked between them and Sam realized this was the first time that Bobby had seen the two of them together and awake, since. Well, just since. Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you two?”
Dean shrugged and Sam said nothing he just watched Dean and then pointedly didn’t watch him.
Bobby gave a snort of disbelief and went to fix dinner.
Two days later they were getting ready to leave and Bobby pulled Sam aside. “Don’t know what you been doing. But, whatever it is ain’t working. You keep this up, this non-arguing arguing you both got going on and one or both of you could end up dead. Sam, pull your head out of your ass. Both of you are supposed to be there for each other.” Bobby stopped his speech and looked at Sam. “You gotta be there for one another, however that may be.”
Sam looked sharply at Bobby. Was he saying what Sam thought he was? Bobby just patted Sam on the back and told him to think about it and Sam was never positive.
Dean was driving and Sam settled into the passenger’s side with a sigh. He could feel the wound in his leg pull but the bullet didn’t bother him and Bobby had decided that it was fine.
“Sorry, Sammy.” It was the first words that Dean had said to him since before the hunt. Bobby must have talked with him too.
“’t’s ‘kay. ‘m sorry too.” Sam couldn’t seem to help reverting to a four year old when apologizing to his brother.
Dean had this amazing capacity to just let things go, that Sam had always admired about him. Now, Sam did consider the possibility that Dean let things go because he didn’t remember them, because of drinking, but he knew that wasn’t the case in this instance. Sam watched for a week as Dean tried to be the big brother that he never really had been.
There had been a couple of moments of tension between them. Once when Sam had reached across Dean for something and their eyes had met. It had been Dean to break contact and look away. The second had happened after Dean had had a couple drinks that had lead to a couple more and Sam ended up helping him back to their room. Sam had tripped and pulled Dean down with him. Sam managed to fall so that Dean landed on him and as Sam lay there trying to remember how to breathe, Dean lay on him and looked. Sam had been ready to reach up and pull Dean down to kiss him when Dean had quickly gotten up.
Watching Dean as he self-destructed right in front of him, Sam got to the point where he finally he couldn’t take it any longer. After a long day in the car and several almost touches and glances out of the corner of his eyes, Sam got them a room. Walking purposely into the room, he turned and locked the deadbolt behind him.
Dean held his hand up. “I know, I know. We need to talk.”
Sam was on him, pushing him up against the closest wall. “Later, maybe.” Looking down into Dean’s green eyes, Sam watched as they widened in recognition then as they filled with desire. Leaning his head down Sam kissed his brother.
It was neither gentle nor short. Breaking apart with a gasp, Dean rested his head against the wall as Sam attacked his neck, licking and biting. Sam pulled Dean’s shirt off and was a bit surprised to see no new marks. Running his fingers over the scar that ran across Dean’s chest from the last time he had cut him he was surprised as Dean groaned his name.
They were naked on the bed and Dean was writhing underneath him as he engulfed Dean’s cock in his mouth. “Sammy,” Dean moaned and Sam couldn’t stop his hips from bucking forward at the need in Dean’s voice. “Please.” It seemed to Sam that Dean had spent most of his life asking Sam for things that Sam had told him no. He had finally realized that whether or not it was good for Dean, Sam couldn’t tell him no anymore.
Moving down Sam ran his tongue around Dean’s musky hole. Licking and putting a hand on Dean’s hip as he felt him come off the bed. Sam felt the ring of muscle tighten as he ran his tongue around it. Slowly working his mouth over it, Sam was rewarded as Dean relaxed enough for him to push his tongue in.
Grabbing the lube, he slicked up his cock and after sucking a few times on Dean’s he moved. Sam put his dick at Dean’s entrance and slowly pushed in. Watching his cock disappear into his brother inch by inch no longer felt wrong. Looking into Dean’s eyes as he sank all the way in, Sam realized that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Dean. Even if it meant helping him drink himself to death. Pulling back out he slammed back in and Dean groaned.
“Sammy.”
Sam concentrated on fucking, Dean’s hard cock trapped between them as Sam leaned in to kiss him. He began to lose his rhythm Dean felt so good. “Come for me Dean,” Sam commanded and Dean complied. It wasn’t normal, hell it didn’t even come within close of normal, but it was all Sam had, so he held his brother tight and came with him.
Maybe they would find a way out of this, but probably not. Sam rolled off of his brother and wrapped his arms around him. If they died tomorrow, or next year it didn’t matter to Sam, they were both damned but Sam would try to be there for as long as Dean needed him.