FIC: A Place to Rest my Spirit 5/5
Title: A Place to Rest My Spirit
Author: Miss ‘Drea
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~21,000
Beta: dH, blackcathollow ,jassy3399
Pairing: Sam/Dean, OMC/OFC
Summary: Sam and Dean find an amulet that lets the restless souls of their past selves live for six months, it’s a way to mend broken bridges and let soul-mates who may have lost their chance at happiness find some again. Marcus and James live for six months, but it’s Sam and Dean who must face the consequences of their actions.
Disclaimer: Gamble, Kripke and Singer own everything. Fredrick and Risika are mine. 100% literally.
*
| 5 |
I’ll fly a star ship, across the universe divide
and when I reach the other side
I’ll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I’ll be back again
- Willie Nelson, The Highwayman
January, 2012
It’s Dean that breaks the quiet stillness of the motel room. Sam’s reading obituaries on the laptop, scrolling silently with the touch pad. He had thought Dean was sleeping, he’d been so quiet on the bed for so long. When Dean speaks, he jerks in surprise. “Can we talk, do you think?”
“Um,” Sam says inelegantly. “Sure. What about? I think I found a hunt in Killdeer, Montana...” he trails off when Dean gives him a look.
“That’s not what I meant.” Sam doesn’t speak again, afraid of breaking whatever thoughts Dean’s holding on to. “It’s been a few months since... you know.” Sam does know.
“Yeah,” Sam says when Dean seems to wait for a response.
Dean rolls over and faces him fully, and Sam slowly closes the laptop, killing the light in the room and leaving the shadows to the streetlights. “You haven’t talked about it.” He sounds surprised.
“You didn’t want to,” Sam says, edgy. They’ve been so good, this far. He doesn’t want to ruin it. Doesn’t want to let Dean ruin it for them. “Didn’t think there was anything to say.”
Dean snorts. “Bullshit. There’s a lot to say.” Sam smiles a little. It’s true. “I have to ask you something, Sammy.”
“Okay, shoot.” Anything to end the awkward. Anything.
“Are you still in love with me?”
Anything but that.
“Dean...” Sam says sharply. “You hate talking. Go to bed.”
Surprisingly, Dean laughs. “Guess that’s my answer huh?” he asks, mostly rhetorical. “So which is it, Sammy? Love me, or in love with me?”
“You know the answer, Dean,” Sam whispers miserably. “It hasn’t changed since that day in the cabin.”
Sam is surprised again when Dean winces and says, “Yeah. I didn’t handle that well, did I?” A little stunned, Sam shakes his head, unable to speak. “I couldn’t, you know? Handle it.”
With a hollow laugh, Sam runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah well. Me either.”
“I shouldn’t have left,” Dean offers apologetically.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Dean,” Sam murmurs. “Why are we talking about this?”
“We were always going to have to, weren’t we?” Dean sits up slowly, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Tonight seemed like a good a night as any.”
Sam turns to face him fully. “Okay,” he says, resigned. “I’m listening.”
There isn’t a lot of light, but Sam takes comfort in the fact that his brother’s eyes are still green. “Don’t have a lot to say, Sammy.” Sam pulls and irritated face and Dean laughs. “Mostly just wanted to know if you loved me.”
“You got that answer already,” Sam says tightly. “Now what?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, Sam,” Dean says quietly. “Things like, how I knew there was something between us before Marc and Jem.” Sam flinches at the nicknames, he can’t help it. “How I can’t really be surprised that we fell in love with each other. Or,” Dean continues as Sam’s heartbeat speeds up, “or that you were the one who chose our roles.”
Sam jerks up. “I didn’t...” he begins. “I didn’t.”
“You did,” Dean counters almost gently. “But now it’s my turn. And I choose Option B.”
“What’s Option B?” Sam asks, mouth dry.
Dean stands fluidly and Sam jerks his gaze away because Dean’s only in boxer-briefs. “Option B,” Dean says, “is kissing that fucking look off your face.” Then his hands are in Sam’s hair, tilting his head back to look at his brother’s smiling expression. “Say no if this isn’t what you want.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” Sam breathes, and surges up out of the chair to meet Dean’s lips with his.
And then they’re kissing. Sam tugs Dean closer, leaning his ass against the edge of the table and it’s the most natural thing in the world for Dean to stand between his thighs, pressing them hip to hip, groin to groin.
Dean’s kissing him like it’s an Olympic sport, sliding their tongues together, crushing his lips to Sam’s. Sam moans when Dean places little sucking kisses at the corners of his lips. With some effort, Dean hitches him up onto the table, pushing the computer out of the way. For his part, Sam hooks one leg around Dean’s waist and pulls him closer so that he can rub against him.
They somehow manage to shed both their shirts without breaking the kiss. “Sam, Sam...” Dean murmurs against his lips. “Pants. Take them off.”
Eagerly Sam undoes the buttons of his fly and shimmies his jeans down his legs. He’s been dreaming about this for long enough that it doesn’t seem real. At least until Dean’s head dips down and sucks the head of his cock into his mouth. Sam locks his ankles around the table legs in order to keep from thrusting up. “Fuck,” he moans, one hand clenching in Dean’s short hair. “Fuck, fuck, Christ, Dean you’re good at this.”
Dean pulls off to grin. “I’m a sex god, College Boy.”
Sam’s reply is lost when Dean continues his ministrations. He is really good at it, swirling his tongue around the head, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks. Except for the first day in the shower, Sam hasn’t touched himself in any way. So Dean expertly sucking him brings him embarrassingly close to the edge too quickly.
“Dean,” Sam gasps, pushing at his head. “Dean ”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean says, pulling off, and his voice is whiskey rough.
“I’m gonna come, you dick.” Sam’s panting, great heaving breaths. “Too soon.”
Dean levers himself up off his knees with a grunt. “Bed. Now.”
Instead of clamoring onto the bed, Sam begins yanking at Dean’s boxers, sliding his hands beneath the waistband to cup Dean’s ass. They stumble to the bed together, connected at the lips, still kissing. “How much,” Dean murmurs in Sam’s ear, “do you remember of the last six months?”
“Not much,” Sam grunts, “but I did go to college.” He abandons Dean’s mouth to skate kisses down his brother’s neck, sucking a dark bruise at the juncture of his shoulder. Dean groans when he does, so Sam does it again, leaving a pattern of bruises down his brother’s neck and shoulders.
Sam surveys the marks he left before he starts leaving long, sucking kisses down the center of Dean’s chest. His brother is constantly shifting below him, hands buried in the covers. From what Sam can remember of their time as Marcus and James, Sam had always been the one on the receiving end of things.
Well, it’s Dean’s turn now, and Sam is determined to take what he learned from James and use it against his brother. A lot.
To his credit, Sam is only a little daunted when he gets to Dean’s tented and skewed boxer briefs. He presses a kiss to Dean’s hip bone, before tugging the article of clothing off and away. Dean is... just as big as he remembers, and Sam contemplates him for a long moment.
“Sam?” Dean says, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Sam glances up at him and grins. “Shut up, Dean.” He trails a finger up the length of Dean’s cock, gratified when his brother shivers. He’s not sure he can use his mouth, Dean is large, and Sam is nervous so he slings a hand around Dean’s dick and squeezes.
Dean writhes like he’s never been touched before, hips jumping up and legs falling wide. Sam jerks him slow and steady, using the dribbles of pre-come as a lubricant. Sam has to use his free arm to hold Dean’s hips down. “How long has it been?” Sam asks his brother, voice guttural and rough.
“Since, oh fuck, our last time,” Dean pants out, twisting his hips. “Fuck Sam, come on. Can’t stand, fuck Same rhythm.”
Sam grins and slows his hand down more, dragging the sensation along. Dean’s fists are clenching in the bed covers, yanking them up and down. “You okay, Dean?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the inside of Dean’s thigh.
“Fuck, Sam, I’m right fuckin’ there,” Dean groans, and Sam stops, rising up to straddle him instead.
They both gasp when their cocks slide together, and Dean hooks one leg around Sam. As Sam leans down to kiss him again, his brother flips them, grinding down on Sam’s erection.
“Dean,” Sam gasps, tugging his brother closer.
“Too close to fuck you,” Dean whispers against the side of his face. “Just like this.”
Their lips meet again and Sam spreads his legs to Dean’s low moan. “Just like this,” Sam agrees against his brother’s mouth. They rub against each other, and Sam can feel his belly tightening, so close to orgasm. “Fuck, Dean...” he whispers against the side of his brother’s face.
“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam does.
Sam’s had a lot of sex in the last six years, both with men and with women, but never once did it feel like it does now.
*
Dean wakes up to Sam’s mouth on his dick. He jerks, swearing, hands already fisting in Sam’s hair before he can stop himself. “Son of a bitch,” he hisses, trying not to thrust into the warm heat of his brother’s mouth. Sam is inexperienced, sloppy with drool and unable to take him all the way in, but it’s the best fucking blow job Dean’s ever gotten.
It’s easier than Sam thought it would be, though it’s as undignified as it looks. Dean’s not small, so he has to use his hand to jack the bottom few inches of his brother’s cock. Dean doesn’t seem to mind, though, with his head thrown back and moaning like a porn star.
Sam pulls off with a wet plop, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth before licking the head of Dean’s cock with his tongue. He’s never been a big fan of spit, even his own. He drags his tongue down the vein on the underside and Dean’s hips jerk when he does. Sam grins, at least until Dean’s fingers bury themselves in his hair and yank painfully.
Something else he hadn’t know about himself. Hair pulling is not a turn on. Sam flicks Dean’s thigh until he lets go, only then does he go back to sucking on his brother’s cock. Dean growls something inarticulate, the words caught behind his teeth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck son of a bitch, fuck,” he groans, fisting his hands in the blankets to keep them out of Sam’s hair. “For fuck’s sake, Sammy ”
Sam pulls away again, fisting Dean loosely as he smirks. “You okay, big brother?” he asks, and he’s shocked at the sound of his voice. He’s hoarse, and sounds fucked out, and it’s like he’s dropped a few octaves or registers. “Want me to stop?”
“No. Yes. No. Shit.” Dean lets go of the blanket to guide Sam up to his mouth. They kiss briefly, before Dean rests his forehead against Sam’s. “You call the shots, baby brother. But I’m three point five seconds from coming and,” he says, breath hitching, “it’s your choice where it goes.”
Sam bites his lip before coming to a decision. “Then fuck me.” He presses full length against Dean, rubbing their erections together. “Fuck me, just you and me.”
Groaning, Dean seals his lips to Sam’s, kissing him for all he’s worth. “Turn over. It’s easier this way.”
Smiling, Sam obeys. “Because you know so much about this sort of thing?”
“Shut up, I watch porn.”
Sam starts to laugh, but it turns into a choked moan as Dean swipes his fingers over Sam’s ass. “Just... go slow,” he requests. “And the lube is in my bag.” He’s given a minute reprieve as Dean gets off the bed to fish out the lube.
He takes a long minute to watch his brother swagger back to the bed, cock hard and leaking against his belly. “Like what you see, Sammy?”
“I’m trying to find Marcus in you,” Sam answers. “I can’t.”
Dean smiles a little, ducking his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t see James in you either.”
“Good.” Dean looks surprised at the blunt response. “What, it is good. That means it’s just us.”
“Aw, Sammy,” Dean says as he gets back on the bed. “It’s always been just us.” He moves between Sam’s legs, spreading them gently. “You ready, little brother?”
Sam cranes his neck back to look at him. “I hope you’re planning on preparing me first, dude-nngh,” He gasps as one slick finger of Dean’s slides between his cheeks and points against his hole. He jerks back as it enters him, trying to impale himself faster with it. Fuck slow. “Dean, you spent six months fucking me, don’t be so damn gentle.”
Huffing out a laugh, Dean presses a kiss to one of the dimples at the small of Sam’s back. “That was Marcus and James. I want to take my time.” He touches the tip of his finger to Sam’s prostate. Sam groans, twisting his hips.
“Dean, remember when you said you were three point five seconds away from coming?” Sam says, panting, arms trembling as he lifts himself up. “I whole - ah - heartedly agree with this sentence.”
“You talk too much,” Dean muses, and slides in a second finger. “Also,” he adds, with a wicked glint to his smile, “you’ll recover.”
He scissors his fingers, sliding them in and out crossing and uncrossing randomly. “Fuck, Dean,” Sam shouts as Dean’s fingers rub across his prostate with each up stroke.
Dean crowds closer, cock brushing the outside of Sam’s hip. He leans forward, pulling Sam up to his knees to rest against Dean’s chest. “Next time, Sammy,” Dean whispers in his ear, “I’ll open you up with my mouth.”
“Fuck ” Sam jerks once, and comes without Dean even touching his cock. “Jesus, Dean.”
“Hmm,” Dean murmurs. “Now you’re ready.” He pushes at Sam’s hip. “Turn to face me.” Sam obliges, sliding his hip against Dean’s erection. When they’re face to face, Sam leans in for a kiss, and Dean settles back on his heels. “Come on, sit up.” He slides his hands under Sam’s ass and lowers him down onto his very erect cock. “Do it slow.”
But Sam is tired of slow. Sam grabs Dean’s hands and jerks his hips down, taking all of Dean in one thrust.
“Fucking fuck, Sam,” Dean jerks up before he can stop himself. “I’m not going to last long,” he swears, panting, pressing his forehead into Sam’s shoulder.
“So come,” Sam grunts. “I told you where I wanted it.”
A few thrusts into Sam and Dean is spilling inside of him, pressing finger marks into Sam’s hips. They’ll bruise, but Dean can’t find it in himself to be upset about it. Especially not when he catches Sam touching them in the days that follow.
They fall asleep together, curled up on the bed, Dean half on top of Sam. It’s so blessedly normal that both of them fall asleep almost instantly.
*
When Sam opens his eyes again, Dean is facing him on the bed, eyes open. Part of Sam is surprised that his brother is still here, and he blinks.
“We freaking out here?” Dean asks him gently.
Sam thinks about the conversations he half remembers from his time as James, and shakes his head. “Dean I was already in love with you before the six months was up.”
Snorting softly, Dean tugs him closer. “Yeah. Me too.” He presses a kiss to the top of Sam’s head before grinning. “Sure you’re not freaking out?”
Sam laughs. “Just wait until it’s my turn.”
“... Your turn?”
He claps Dean on the chest before getting out of bed. “Yeah, and if it makes you feel any better,” he says with a wink, “just lie back and think of England.”
*The End
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Notes & Soundtrack
Author: Miss ‘Drea
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~21,000
Beta: dH, blackcathollow ,jassy3399
Pairing: Sam/Dean, OMC/OFC
Summary: Sam and Dean find an amulet that lets the restless souls of their past selves live for six months, it’s a way to mend broken bridges and let soul-mates who may have lost their chance at happiness find some again. Marcus and James live for six months, but it’s Sam and Dean who must face the consequences of their actions.
Disclaimer: Gamble, Kripke and Singer own everything. Fredrick and Risika are mine. 100% literally.
*
| 5 |
I’ll fly a star ship, across the universe divide
and when I reach the other side
I’ll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I’ll be back again
- Willie Nelson, The Highwayman
January, 2012
It’s Dean that breaks the quiet stillness of the motel room. Sam’s reading obituaries on the laptop, scrolling silently with the touch pad. He had thought Dean was sleeping, he’d been so quiet on the bed for so long. When Dean speaks, he jerks in surprise. “Can we talk, do you think?”
“Um,” Sam says inelegantly. “Sure. What about? I think I found a hunt in Killdeer, Montana...” he trails off when Dean gives him a look.
“That’s not what I meant.” Sam doesn’t speak again, afraid of breaking whatever thoughts Dean’s holding on to. “It’s been a few months since... you know.” Sam does know.
“Yeah,” Sam says when Dean seems to wait for a response.
Dean rolls over and faces him fully, and Sam slowly closes the laptop, killing the light in the room and leaving the shadows to the streetlights. “You haven’t talked about it.” He sounds surprised.
“You didn’t want to,” Sam says, edgy. They’ve been so good, this far. He doesn’t want to ruin it. Doesn’t want to let Dean ruin it for them. “Didn’t think there was anything to say.”
Dean snorts. “Bullshit. There’s a lot to say.” Sam smiles a little. It’s true. “I have to ask you something, Sammy.”
“Okay, shoot.” Anything to end the awkward. Anything.
“Are you still in love with me?”
Anything but that.
“Dean...” Sam says sharply. “You hate talking. Go to bed.”
Surprisingly, Dean laughs. “Guess that’s my answer huh?” he asks, mostly rhetorical. “So which is it, Sammy? Love me, or in love with me?”
“You know the answer, Dean,” Sam whispers miserably. “It hasn’t changed since that day in the cabin.”
Sam is surprised again when Dean winces and says, “Yeah. I didn’t handle that well, did I?” A little stunned, Sam shakes his head, unable to speak. “I couldn’t, you know? Handle it.”
With a hollow laugh, Sam runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah well. Me either.”
“I shouldn’t have left,” Dean offers apologetically.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Dean,” Sam murmurs. “Why are we talking about this?”
“We were always going to have to, weren’t we?” Dean sits up slowly, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Tonight seemed like a good a night as any.”
Sam turns to face him fully. “Okay,” he says, resigned. “I’m listening.”
There isn’t a lot of light, but Sam takes comfort in the fact that his brother’s eyes are still green. “Don’t have a lot to say, Sammy.” Sam pulls and irritated face and Dean laughs. “Mostly just wanted to know if you loved me.”
“You got that answer already,” Sam says tightly. “Now what?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, Sam,” Dean says quietly. “Things like, how I knew there was something between us before Marc and Jem.” Sam flinches at the nicknames, he can’t help it. “How I can’t really be surprised that we fell in love with each other. Or,” Dean continues as Sam’s heartbeat speeds up, “or that you were the one who chose our roles.”
Sam jerks up. “I didn’t...” he begins. “I didn’t.”
“You did,” Dean counters almost gently. “But now it’s my turn. And I choose Option B.”
“What’s Option B?” Sam asks, mouth dry.
Dean stands fluidly and Sam jerks his gaze away because Dean’s only in boxer-briefs. “Option B,” Dean says, “is kissing that fucking look off your face.” Then his hands are in Sam’s hair, tilting his head back to look at his brother’s smiling expression. “Say no if this isn’t what you want.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” Sam breathes, and surges up out of the chair to meet Dean’s lips with his.
And then they’re kissing. Sam tugs Dean closer, leaning his ass against the edge of the table and it’s the most natural thing in the world for Dean to stand between his thighs, pressing them hip to hip, groin to groin.
Dean’s kissing him like it’s an Olympic sport, sliding their tongues together, crushing his lips to Sam’s. Sam moans when Dean places little sucking kisses at the corners of his lips. With some effort, Dean hitches him up onto the table, pushing the computer out of the way. For his part, Sam hooks one leg around Dean’s waist and pulls him closer so that he can rub against him.
They somehow manage to shed both their shirts without breaking the kiss. “Sam, Sam...” Dean murmurs against his lips. “Pants. Take them off.”
Eagerly Sam undoes the buttons of his fly and shimmies his jeans down his legs. He’s been dreaming about this for long enough that it doesn’t seem real. At least until Dean’s head dips down and sucks the head of his cock into his mouth. Sam locks his ankles around the table legs in order to keep from thrusting up. “Fuck,” he moans, one hand clenching in Dean’s short hair. “Fuck, fuck, Christ, Dean you’re good at this.”
Dean pulls off to grin. “I’m a sex god, College Boy.”
Sam’s reply is lost when Dean continues his ministrations. He is really good at it, swirling his tongue around the head, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks. Except for the first day in the shower, Sam hasn’t touched himself in any way. So Dean expertly sucking him brings him embarrassingly close to the edge too quickly.
“Dean,” Sam gasps, pushing at his head. “Dean ”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean says, pulling off, and his voice is whiskey rough.
“I’m gonna come, you dick.” Sam’s panting, great heaving breaths. “Too soon.”
Dean levers himself up off his knees with a grunt. “Bed. Now.”
Instead of clamoring onto the bed, Sam begins yanking at Dean’s boxers, sliding his hands beneath the waistband to cup Dean’s ass. They stumble to the bed together, connected at the lips, still kissing. “How much,” Dean murmurs in Sam’s ear, “do you remember of the last six months?”
“Not much,” Sam grunts, “but I did go to college.” He abandons Dean’s mouth to skate kisses down his brother’s neck, sucking a dark bruise at the juncture of his shoulder. Dean groans when he does, so Sam does it again, leaving a pattern of bruises down his brother’s neck and shoulders.
Sam surveys the marks he left before he starts leaving long, sucking kisses down the center of Dean’s chest. His brother is constantly shifting below him, hands buried in the covers. From what Sam can remember of their time as Marcus and James, Sam had always been the one on the receiving end of things.
Well, it’s Dean’s turn now, and Sam is determined to take what he learned from James and use it against his brother. A lot.
To his credit, Sam is only a little daunted when he gets to Dean’s tented and skewed boxer briefs. He presses a kiss to Dean’s hip bone, before tugging the article of clothing off and away. Dean is... just as big as he remembers, and Sam contemplates him for a long moment.
“Sam?” Dean says, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Sam glances up at him and grins. “Shut up, Dean.” He trails a finger up the length of Dean’s cock, gratified when his brother shivers. He’s not sure he can use his mouth, Dean is large, and Sam is nervous so he slings a hand around Dean’s dick and squeezes.
Dean writhes like he’s never been touched before, hips jumping up and legs falling wide. Sam jerks him slow and steady, using the dribbles of pre-come as a lubricant. Sam has to use his free arm to hold Dean’s hips down. “How long has it been?” Sam asks his brother, voice guttural and rough.
“Since, oh fuck, our last time,” Dean pants out, twisting his hips. “Fuck Sam, come on. Can’t stand, fuck Same rhythm.”
Sam grins and slows his hand down more, dragging the sensation along. Dean’s fists are clenching in the bed covers, yanking them up and down. “You okay, Dean?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the inside of Dean’s thigh.
“Fuck, Sam, I’m right fuckin’ there,” Dean groans, and Sam stops, rising up to straddle him instead.
They both gasp when their cocks slide together, and Dean hooks one leg around Sam. As Sam leans down to kiss him again, his brother flips them, grinding down on Sam’s erection.
“Dean,” Sam gasps, tugging his brother closer.
“Too close to fuck you,” Dean whispers against the side of his face. “Just like this.”
Their lips meet again and Sam spreads his legs to Dean’s low moan. “Just like this,” Sam agrees against his brother’s mouth. They rub against each other, and Sam can feel his belly tightening, so close to orgasm. “Fuck, Dean...” he whispers against the side of his brother’s face.
“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam does.
Sam’s had a lot of sex in the last six years, both with men and with women, but never once did it feel like it does now.
*
Dean wakes up to Sam’s mouth on his dick. He jerks, swearing, hands already fisting in Sam’s hair before he can stop himself. “Son of a bitch,” he hisses, trying not to thrust into the warm heat of his brother’s mouth. Sam is inexperienced, sloppy with drool and unable to take him all the way in, but it’s the best fucking blow job Dean’s ever gotten.
It’s easier than Sam thought it would be, though it’s as undignified as it looks. Dean’s not small, so he has to use his hand to jack the bottom few inches of his brother’s cock. Dean doesn’t seem to mind, though, with his head thrown back and moaning like a porn star.
Sam pulls off with a wet plop, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth before licking the head of Dean’s cock with his tongue. He’s never been a big fan of spit, even his own. He drags his tongue down the vein on the underside and Dean’s hips jerk when he does. Sam grins, at least until Dean’s fingers bury themselves in his hair and yank painfully.
Something else he hadn’t know about himself. Hair pulling is not a turn on. Sam flicks Dean’s thigh until he lets go, only then does he go back to sucking on his brother’s cock. Dean growls something inarticulate, the words caught behind his teeth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck son of a bitch, fuck,” he groans, fisting his hands in the blankets to keep them out of Sam’s hair. “For fuck’s sake, Sammy ”
Sam pulls away again, fisting Dean loosely as he smirks. “You okay, big brother?” he asks, and he’s shocked at the sound of his voice. He’s hoarse, and sounds fucked out, and it’s like he’s dropped a few octaves or registers. “Want me to stop?”
“No. Yes. No. Shit.” Dean lets go of the blanket to guide Sam up to his mouth. They kiss briefly, before Dean rests his forehead against Sam’s. “You call the shots, baby brother. But I’m three point five seconds from coming and,” he says, breath hitching, “it’s your choice where it goes.”
Sam bites his lip before coming to a decision. “Then fuck me.” He presses full length against Dean, rubbing their erections together. “Fuck me, just you and me.”
Groaning, Dean seals his lips to Sam’s, kissing him for all he’s worth. “Turn over. It’s easier this way.”
Smiling, Sam obeys. “Because you know so much about this sort of thing?”
“Shut up, I watch porn.”
Sam starts to laugh, but it turns into a choked moan as Dean swipes his fingers over Sam’s ass. “Just... go slow,” he requests. “And the lube is in my bag.” He’s given a minute reprieve as Dean gets off the bed to fish out the lube.
He takes a long minute to watch his brother swagger back to the bed, cock hard and leaking against his belly. “Like what you see, Sammy?”
“I’m trying to find Marcus in you,” Sam answers. “I can’t.”
Dean smiles a little, ducking his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t see James in you either.”
“Good.” Dean looks surprised at the blunt response. “What, it is good. That means it’s just us.”
“Aw, Sammy,” Dean says as he gets back on the bed. “It’s always been just us.” He moves between Sam’s legs, spreading them gently. “You ready, little brother?”
Sam cranes his neck back to look at him. “I hope you’re planning on preparing me first, dude-nngh,” He gasps as one slick finger of Dean’s slides between his cheeks and points against his hole. He jerks back as it enters him, trying to impale himself faster with it. Fuck slow. “Dean, you spent six months fucking me, don’t be so damn gentle.”
Huffing out a laugh, Dean presses a kiss to one of the dimples at the small of Sam’s back. “That was Marcus and James. I want to take my time.” He touches the tip of his finger to Sam’s prostate. Sam groans, twisting his hips.
“Dean, remember when you said you were three point five seconds away from coming?” Sam says, panting, arms trembling as he lifts himself up. “I whole - ah - heartedly agree with this sentence.”
“You talk too much,” Dean muses, and slides in a second finger. “Also,” he adds, with a wicked glint to his smile, “you’ll recover.”
He scissors his fingers, sliding them in and out crossing and uncrossing randomly. “Fuck, Dean,” Sam shouts as Dean’s fingers rub across his prostate with each up stroke.
Dean crowds closer, cock brushing the outside of Sam’s hip. He leans forward, pulling Sam up to his knees to rest against Dean’s chest. “Next time, Sammy,” Dean whispers in his ear, “I’ll open you up with my mouth.”
“Fuck ” Sam jerks once, and comes without Dean even touching his cock. “Jesus, Dean.”
“Hmm,” Dean murmurs. “Now you’re ready.” He pushes at Sam’s hip. “Turn to face me.” Sam obliges, sliding his hip against Dean’s erection. When they’re face to face, Sam leans in for a kiss, and Dean settles back on his heels. “Come on, sit up.” He slides his hands under Sam’s ass and lowers him down onto his very erect cock. “Do it slow.”
But Sam is tired of slow. Sam grabs Dean’s hands and jerks his hips down, taking all of Dean in one thrust.
“Fucking fuck, Sam,” Dean jerks up before he can stop himself. “I’m not going to last long,” he swears, panting, pressing his forehead into Sam’s shoulder.
“So come,” Sam grunts. “I told you where I wanted it.”
A few thrusts into Sam and Dean is spilling inside of him, pressing finger marks into Sam’s hips. They’ll bruise, but Dean can’t find it in himself to be upset about it. Especially not when he catches Sam touching them in the days that follow.
They fall asleep together, curled up on the bed, Dean half on top of Sam. It’s so blessedly normal that both of them fall asleep almost instantly.
*
When Sam opens his eyes again, Dean is facing him on the bed, eyes open. Part of Sam is surprised that his brother is still here, and he blinks.
“We freaking out here?” Dean asks him gently.
Sam thinks about the conversations he half remembers from his time as James, and shakes his head. “Dean I was already in love with you before the six months was up.”
Snorting softly, Dean tugs him closer. “Yeah. Me too.” He presses a kiss to the top of Sam’s head before grinning. “Sure you’re not freaking out?”
Sam laughs. “Just wait until it’s my turn.”
“... Your turn?”
He claps Dean on the chest before getting out of bed. “Yeah, and if it makes you feel any better,” he says with a wink, “just lie back and think of England.”
*The End
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Notes & Soundtrack