fic: through the darkness we will be
Title: through the darkness we will be
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Dean/OFC, Sam/Dean/OFC, Dean/Sam
Word Count: ~5600
Rating: NC-17
Heads-up: Threesome
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Summary: A hunt and a chance meeting with an old friend might be just what the Winchesters need to get back into the game. Takes place mid-S2.
Notes: Pinch hit for the spn_reversebang. Many thanks to freetodream5 for the gorgeous artwork and the fun prompt! Thanks to chaosraven and thunder_nari for the awesome betas ♥
Dean's head jerks up, jarring him out of sleep. It's fucking weird, falling asleep while the Impala's rushing down the highway; a perk of having Sam around again. Even if his fingers do itch to push Sam over and take the wheel back.
"Pull over," he manages to get out, rubbing at his eyes. There's a sharp pain in his back from leaning against the door at a bad angle and Dean rolls his shoulders, trying to lessen the ache.
"Rest stop's coming up soon, three more miles or so." Sam keeps his eyes on the road, fingers gripping the wheel. He hasn't looked at Dean since they first got in the car, a couple hundred miles back Dean figures as he checks his watch.
Dean just grunts in response and does his best to stretch out without pissing off his bladder in the process. It's still light out, the benefit of driving in the summer and Dean allows himself to stare out the window until they reach the rest stop.
It's like any other one they've come across: brick and mortar bathrooms, though they sometimes have decorative rock if the state's worried about appearances. Dean's out of the Impala before Sam has her all the way in park, and Dean does his best to aim his middle finger towards the huff of laughter behind him as he stumbles towards the men's side.
The day's significantly looking up when he leaves; hands still damp cause whoever's supposed to restock this one hasn't stopped by and fixed the motor in the hand dryer. Dean's jeans are clean enough he reasons, and is still wiping the backs of his hands off on them as he approaches the car.
Sam's already in the passenger seat with the door open, one leg stretched out onto the asphalt and the other propped up against the dash. Dean opens the driver's door but stays standing, not really wanting to fold himself back into the car quite yet.
He doesn't hear the phone ring, just sees Sam through the windshield, reaching down at the catchall by the gear shift. Dean doesn't think anything of it until there's a rattle as Sam pounds on the ceiling, grabbing his attention and waving Dean's cell phone at him.
Dean ducks down for a moment before sliding onto the seat, eyes watching Sam's face as Sam answers his phone. He doesn't realize he's tuned out the background noise until Sam starts talking again, his voice sounding odd. Dean chalks it up as another call about a weird hunt.
"Katie?" Sam looks over at Dean expectantly, and Dean shrugs until something clicks it all together. He pokes at Sam, mouths at him, what's her last name? and tries not to smirk at the lost look on Sam's face.
"Sharpe? Katie Sharpe?" Sam repeats, eyes locked on Dean's, looking for some sort of reassurance.
"Wait, that Katie?" Dean shakes his head and tries not to grab at the phone. "Is there a case?"
Sam nods, and Dean does his best to hold back. "Get the info. Ask her if the address is the same?"
That's when Sam just looks at him, eyes staring as he repeats the info, and Dean swears he can hear the happy confirmation on the other end of the line from where he sits, can hear Katie repeating the info, her voice curling around the words with slick promise.
He starts when Sam shuts the phone with a sharp click, and he almost feels guilty when he looks over to meet Sam's gaze. Dean understands now why Sam's been avoiding direct eye contact the past few states, the way his brother's glare makes his belly churn.
"So, we got a case?" Dean aims for professional, even though he can feel his skin prickling under Sam's stare.
"Yeah."
The fact that Sam's so abrupt and not forthcoming should be enough to warn Dean off, but he's the first to admit he can be a slow leaner, especially when it comes to Sam and girls mixing together like that.
"So, uhh, Katie still in Montana?" Dean focuses on not hitting any of the happy-go-lucky tourists as he carefully backs out of the space. He itches to get back onto the freeway, to press down on the gas and roll his shoulders and clear his head. He's pretty sure Sam's not going to let him get away with most of that.
"Yeah."
The silence drags out between them, ticking by with every mile marker that flashes past and Dean doesn't really get annoyed until he sees Sam shift out of the corner of his eye. He pulls out his laptop and starts to quickly type away at something.
"Did she say what was going on?" Dean hates that he's aiming for casual conversation with his brother, but it's happening more and more, ever since they bumped shoulders and burned their father's corpse. Sam's still pissed but Dean only knows half the reasons it seems like.
"Sort of. Might be ghosts but she can't tell for sure. " There's a snort of amusement that punctuates Sam's words and Dean's familiar with the noise. It's the same one that kept showing up during their dad's lectures throughout their childhood, when Sam just stopped caring about the consequences.
"Seriously Sam, what crawled up your ass and died? I thought you wanted to go out and be busy. And here something drops into our laps." Dean glances over at Sam, who's twisting Dean's phone around and staring at the screen.
Sam huffs out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, she seemed pretty eager to get into your lap. How long's it been Dean? From the sound of it it's been awhile since you called her."
"Wait, what? Are you pissed off about a girl, Sammy?"
Sam shuts his laptop hard before turning to glare at Dean. "It's the fact that this is another secret in a long line of secrets you've been keeping from me. It's getting fucking old, Dean. And seriously, first Cassie, now this girl? How many are out there, Dean, really?"
If they were alone on the road Dean wouldn't have hesitated to punch the brakes and even now the car drops down to fifty-five, quick enough to shove the laptop back into Sam's stomach.
"Katie's an old friend of Dad's. He met up with her on a hunt years back and helped her out when she was just starting." Dean pauses while he brings the car back up to speed. "Stuff's come up since then, yeah, and I did what I could when I was in the area, but it's not what you're thinking."
"Really?"
Dean glances over at Sam and grips at the wheel. "She's not a hunter, really. Her town's prone to ghosts, so she sort of took on the job when no one else was able to. We've just been helping them out when something bigger comes along."
"Well, from what she told me it sounds like it could be anything, but the reception got crappy and she wasn't able to finish filling me in."
Dean chuckles. "Yeah, her place is sort of out there."
===
The road's hard on the Impala, gravel crunching underneath the tires, potholes causing the frame to shudder around them. Dean swears under his breath as he does his best to maneuver around it all, attempting to avoid sharp dips and low hanging tree branches all at the same time.
"You sure this is the right way?" Sam asks, and Dean tries to avoid acknowledging the smirk on Sam's face.
"Recognize that burnt out stump over there," he grits out, and when Sam turns to look Dean takes the opportunity to hit one of the potholes, banging Sam's head against the roof. "Bitch. Stop doubting me."
"Fuck you," Sam spits out, turning his whole body around to face the window.
"Not now, princess," Dean responds automatically.
Dean's tempted to say something else, wishes he could but there's a tight turn coming up and he's pretty sure Sam would just shrug off anything Dean throws at him now. So he focuses on getting the Impala around the bend, holding his breath when it seems like she's going to scrape up against the trees lining the road. They get through cleanly though, and the rest of the road seems mild in comparison.
Sam doesn't speak until they've reached the house, twisting his body around to look up at it through the windshield. "She's alone out here?"
Dean snorts out a laugh. "The whole town's spread out like this, except for the main drag. Just wait til you meet her. She can handle herself."
"Of course she can," Sam mutters, so low Dean wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening for it.
Dean ignores him, pulling up next to the Jeep parked to the side of the house. By the time he's out of the car Katie's already halfway across the yard, grinning as she walks up to him.
"Hey stranger." She has to reach up to get her arms around Dean's neck to give him a hug. "How long has it been now?"
"Too long." Dean figures vague is better and steps back, glancing over his shoulder. "This is Sam. You guys talked earlier?"
"Yeah." Sam holds his hand out and Katie shakes it, eyes tracking the length of his body. "As much as we could, really."
"Oh man, sorry about that." Katie waves towards the trees. "When it gets windy around here everything starts to flicker. Come on in."
Dean follows her towards the house, hearing a door slam on the Impala as Sam grabs his laptop bag. Their boots echo on the porch steps. The area under the overhang is scattered with camping supplies and chopped wood.
She opens the door wide behind her, inviting them in as she heads to the far side of the living room. Dean makes a beeline for the kitchen. He doesn't realize Sam followed him and is staring from the kitchen doorway until he turns around, glass in hand.
"First try?"
Dean can feel the flush rise in his cheeks. "She hasn't moved them in four years."
"Huh."
"I said she wasn't a girlfriend, Sam."
Sam shrugs at him. "Don't care Dean, I really don't."
"You guys found the drinks okay?" Katie's voice appears before she does, cutting Dean off. She slides in between Sam and the doorway to head towards the fridge. "There's juice and soda and water. Anything harder's for later."
"Later?" Dean asks, grabbing a third glass from the cupboard.
"I'm not going out and shooting at things if you guys are tanked."
"You've never done a shot for your nerves?" Sam asks.
"Once at the beginning of things, and it was several shots." She smiles ruefully. "And then I ended up shooting the angel on top of my mother's headstone. Cost me $275 to replace, okay? No drinking and playing with firearms, at least while I'm out there with you." Katie grins at Sam as she pulls out three sodas. "You've never done something stupid like that?"
Dean starts to talk but Sam interjects, cutting Dean off with a warning glare. "Between the two of us I'm sure we have more than enough stories." Sam glances out of the window. "Are we heading out tonight?"
Katie glances at them both before nodding. "It shouldn't be too difficult, with all three of us. Unless it turns out to be more than what we're expecting."
Sam nods, standing up straight and cracking his back. "I'm gonna go narrow that down for you." He heads out towards the living room, leaving Dean and Katie alone in the kitchen.
Dean snags a soda from Katie's hand, popping the can open before taking a long gulp. "He'll warm up to you, I promise."
Katie arches an eyebrow at him as she puts the glasses away, unused. "I'm not expecting us all to be best friends. This is a job, I get it."
"He thinks we have a thing going on."
Katie laughs at that, her shoulders shaking as she opens her own soda. "I'm assuming you denied that?"
"Tried to, but he doesn't believe me."
"Neither would I." Katie takes a sip. "And with good reason."
"We were talking current tense. You're bringing up the past."
"Mmm, maybe, but you can't tell me it wasn't good."
Dean smirks at that, reaches out to snag her wrist and pull her in close. "Still could be."
"You want to prove your brother right?"
"He won't find out," Dean murmurs, hand sliding up to cup her cheek. He ducks down to kiss her briefly, fingers teasing the soft skin of her neck. His other hand rises to rest on her hip, and she makes a surprised noise against his mouth.
"Still a cocky bastard, huh," she smiles up at him.
"That'll never change." Sam's voice startles them apart, Katie backing up into the counter. "Your router needs to be reset."
"Yeah, uh, that's over by the desk in the far corner, help yourself."
Dean's hands fall to his sides, and he can see the blush rise on her cheeks.
"I'll go talk to him." Dean grabs the unopened can of soda and starts to walk towards the door, but he stops when he feels her fingers against his arm.
"Hold on. It's going to get dark soon, so why not grab what you need from the car? I can take that in to him and make sure the internet's connecting okay." Katie holds out her hand, palm up.
Dean hesitates a moment before finally nodding, passing the soda over to her.
Katie grabs hers as well and heads towards the living room, smiling when she hears the front door open and close behind her. Sam's on the couch, hunched over the laptop he has set up on the coffee table, a couple files and a worn journal piled up next to him.
Katie sits down on the other end of the couch, resisting the urge to tuck her feet up underneath her. She waits until Sam glances over at her and she holds up the soda with a questioning look.
"Thanks." Sam takes it, looking grateful for the caffeine boost. The room falls silent again as he drinks, and Katie takes a quick peek at his laptop screen.
"Ended up getting it all worked out?"
"Yeah, thanks." Sam sets the can down on the folders. "Sorry about interrupting back there."
Katie shakes her head. "Nothing there to interrupt. Hasn't been for a while either."
Sam looks over at her then, "Right."
"Are we still thinking ghosts for tonight?" Katie changes the subject and the stress in Sam's shoulders seems to lessen.
"Yeah. From what I can tell it just looks like there's so much activity going on, it's registering as something greater than it actually is."
"So it's just a crapload of ghosts?"
"Yup. Anything major happen here that could set them all off like this?"
Katie shrugs. "It could be anything out here, really. There's several older burial sites a ways out, but we have one right in town as well."
"What counts as old?"
"Early 1900s? There was a surge of people coming out here around that time, completely unprepared for most everything they came across. Some managed to limp along with help, but there's stories of whole towns dropping dead from starvation, the weather..." Katie trails off. "Pretty much everything the state threw at them knocked them on their asses."
"Yeah, that could do it. Are any of them buried around here?"
"Probably, yeah. The cemetery sort of fades back into the woods, and I'm sure a lot of the older graves are hidden back there."
"Well, at least that gives us a starting point." Sam pulls the laptop onto his lap and leans back against the couch. "Let me try to narrow it down a little more."
Katie takes a long sip of soda before twisting around on the couch so that she's facing Sam. "So, you've been hunting long?"
Sam just stares at her for a beat before barking out a laugh. "Did Dean not mention me at all? Cause I've been doing this my whole life," he gestures towards the files and journal. "Not surprised though, he wasn't too happy with me for awhile."
"Really?" Katie seems intrigued. "Cause the last time we talked he wouldn't shut up about you, kicking ass and taking names at Stanford. He's really proud of you, Sam."
"Huh..."
"You knew that, right?" Sam can hear the worry in Katie's voice.
"Not that he was telling other people about me and what I was up to."
Katie smiles, reaching a foot out to nudge at his calf. "Your dad did too, and he was just as proud of all your accomplishments."
Sam starts at her words, looking over to stare at her. "You talked to my dad about me?"
"Called him a year or so ago when I got wind of a wendigo in the area and I had questions. Wasn't much time to talk about other stuff, but we managed to catch up as best we could."
"You know he's dead?" It comes out harsher than Sam intends, and he almost wishes he could take it back.
But Katie's nodding, her eyes downcast. "Heard about it a month or so ago. Grapevine gets a little slow sometimes, but Bobby got around to calling me up."
"You know Bobby?"
"I may not be a hunter like you guys, Sam, but I wasn't completely dependent on your dad or brother. John made sure of that."
"Huh."
There's a low metallic slam from outside, and the heavy beat of boots as Dean crosses the porch and comes back inside, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Sam's thankful for the interruption in the conversation.
"Know what's going bump in the night yet?" Dean hefts the bag up before carefully setting it on the floor.
"Pissed off settler ghosts." Sam doesn't bother looking up from the screen.
"Right Sam, when you put it that way, completely logical."
"We've come across stupider shit that needed to be taken care of."
"Not gonna argue that one."
Katie just looks amused, watching the two of them talk, and Dean smirks at the way her eyes seem to keep tracking over Sam.
"Think it's dark enough to head out?" She asks, looking over at Dean.
He glances out the window, trying to see the sky through the heavy canopy of branches. "Probably. We should be fine by the time we get there. And the sooner we take care of them the sooner we can come back and celebrate." He smirks at Sam and Katie. "I remember you having some nice stuff stocked away."
Sam tenses and Katie shakes her head with a smile. "That's long gone, Dean. There might be something tucked away, if you do things right tonight."
"Good to know. You need to get ready or anything?"
"I was ready before you two even showed up today." Katie stands and stretches. "Let me grab my gear and we can head out." She disappears into a back room and they can hear fabric rustling.
Dean moves closer to Sam, nudging at him with his foot until Sam looks up and meets Dean's eyes. "Hey man, we good?"
Sam nods, barely, before closing the laptop and standing up. He's still growing somehow, filling out and the height gap between the two of them is on Sam's side now. "You know it just comes down to me and you, Dean. Always does."
Dean nods, pretty sure he's getting most of it but there's an underlying earnestness, desperation almost, in Sam's voice that keeps Dean's eyes trained on him.
"Ready to head out?" Katie's voice breaks them apart, Dean stumbling back a few steps. When he looks back at Sam, Sam's just smirking at him, a possessively pleased grin on his face.
"Yeah, uh." Dean's thrown off balance, and he shakes his head. Sam's still smiling and Dean wants to ask him what's up, what's changed since the car ride but there's not enough time right now, not enough space with Katie heading towards them, and Dean's pretty sure Sam's planned the whole damn thing out.
"We're taking my Jeep." And Katie shakes her head when Dean starts to protest. "The road to the cemetery can get even worse than mine. Besides, I've been there before, multiple times."
"You're not gonna win this one, Dean." Sam shrugs, grabbing the bag from the floor. "Shotgun," he calls out, bumping his shoulder against Dean's.
===
The hunt goes well, Dean decides as they pile back into Katie's Jeep. He manages to not bang his head as he slides into the backseat, twisting around to place his handgun in the back with the other weapons. He had counted at least fifteen ghosts, the wispy mass separating and sharpening into individual figures as they had approached the three hunters.
All three of them are disgusting, covered in graveyard dirt and fluids. Dean doesn't even want to know where they came from. He lets his head fall forward against the back of the driver's seat and tries not to groan too loudly at the thought of a hot shower.
"You guys ready?" Katie starts up the engine as the last door slams shut.
Dean's eyes open when there's a sudden press against his side; Sam, sweaty and dirty and closer than he should be. Dean raises his head and looks over at Sam, caught off guard by how wide his eyes are in the moonlight.
"Sam?"
"We're good," Sam tells Katie, drowning out Dean before leaning back and resting his arm along the seat back.
Dean just lifts an eyebrow at him, waiting until Sam shrugs before mouthing at him what's going on?
Sam moves closer to him, if that's even possible, ducking his head so that his lips brush against Dean's ear. "It felt... normal back there for a moment. Like things were all back in sync again."
Dean nods and Sam stays quiet after that. Sam doesn't move though, and after one harsh pothole Dean finds his hand resting on Sam's thigh. Neither of them moves for the rest of the drive back to the house.
===
"Dibs on the shower," Katie calls out when they get inside. "You guys can fight over the rest of the hot water when I'm done," she adds, shutting the bedroom door behind her.
Dean heads towards the kitchen, ducking down in front of one of the low cupboards. He can see the shine of glass behind the stack of pots, and he grunts as he pulls out the bottle of whiskey.
"Thought she didn't drink that?" Sam asks from the doorway, causing Dean to jump.
"Stop creeping around like that. And she doesn't, she just keeps a bottle around for visitors."
"Hidden away?"
"Shut up Sam, or you're not getting any."
Sam stays quiet as Dean pours them both tumblers, raising his eyebrow at how high Dean pours.
"Stop whining and drink your liquor, Sammy." Dean raises his glass towards Sam before taking a long drink. Sam mimics him, doing his best to keep up until both glasses are empty.
The shower's still running, so Dean nods towards the couch, leaving his glass on the counter. Sam follows suit but grabs the bottle before trailing after Dean.
Dean lets himself get dragged down on the couch, the alcohol hitting his system; Sam falling down next to him, staying close and fumbling with the lid to the whiskey bottle. It's all so familiar, like when they were teenagers and Dad was off on a long hunt, leaving the two of them alone to figure things out. It had been awkward and gut-churning and perfect back then, Dean letting Sam set the pace, and they start to fall back into that rhythm again, as Sam offers the opened bottle over to Dean first.
Dean takes a long pull from the bottle, the glass clinking against his front teeth as he tips it up too quickly. Sam's hand is hovering over Dean's belly, just as cautious as Dean's trying to be, even with the surge of alcohol pushing them along. Dean shifts just enough to make contact. Sam's fingers are cool even through the thin fabric of Dean's t-shirt.
Sam moves closer, ducking his head down to rest on Dean's shoulder and Dean shudders when he realizes how familiar it is, interlocking as Sam tries to keep nuzzling in closer, and Dean's still not even sure what's brought this up, this whole new side of Sam that's too busy fumbling with Dean's belt buckle to bitch about what a dick Dean's been recently.
"Sammy," he manages to stutter , reaching up with his free hand to tangle it in Sam's hair. Sam whimpers at the pull, allowing himself to follow Dean's hand until he's gazing back at Dean, eyes heavy lidded.
"Missed this, Dean," Sam whispers before leaning towards him, and the whiskey hits Dean a second before Sam's mouth does, damp and cautious on his lips.
Dean's head is pounding, overwhelmed by everything that's happened tonight and he grounds himself the best way he remembers how, his fingers grabbing at Sam. He loosens his grip in Sam's hair, his hand sliding down to curl around the back of his neck, keeping him close. Dean grasps the hem of Sam's shirt with his other hand, slowly working it up until it's rucked up around Sam's armpits.
Dean pulls away and grins at how red Sam's mouth is. "Raise up," Dean tells him, tugging at the shirt and Sam pulls it off in one smooth movement.
"Oh." Katie's voice is loud in the nearly silent room, and Dean's annoyed that she's out of his line of vision, that he can't see the look on her face. But Sam's smiling at her, soft and bashful and Dean's confused again.
"Hey there," Sam says, smiling wider before leaning down and kissing Dean, licking into his mouth with a groan. Dean's completely distracted until there's suddenly another pair of hands on him, finishing up Sam's work on his belt buckle. It doesn't fully hit him until Sam cards his fingers through Dean's hair, holding him in place as their kiss deepens.
He lifts up his hips automatically when he feels the tug on his waistband, gasping into Sam's mouth as the cool air hits his skin. Slender fingers wrap around his cock and a heartbeat later Katie's licking around his dick.
Dean's eyes close at the sensation of her mouth when she swallows him down. He can feel Sam pull back and the couch shift as he gets off. Dean opens an eye in time to watch Sam shuck his jeans and boxers off.
"Sammy," Dean's not fully sure how far this is going, if it hasn't already gone far enough. But Sam climbs back on the couch, crouching next to Dean as his eyes track Katie's movements.
"S'okay, Dean, come on." Sam inches his knees closer, his large frame is bent over his brother as he tries to nip at Dean's neck. "Please."
Dean reaches out with his hand, trailing up Sam's thigh until he reaches his belly, and Dean grins at the way Sam shudders when he takes hold of his cock. Dean can feel Katie lean back to watch, her hand still moving on Dean's dick.
Katie's frozen on the floor watching, still nestled between Dean's legs until Dean grabs hold of a lock of her hair and gently tugs. "Come here," he murmurs, shifting lower on the couch, his legs spreading wider.
She climbs on top of him, holding herself up until Sam reaches out towards her and runs a hand down her spine. She whimpers at the touch, moving forward just enough for Dean to slide into her. Dean grasps at her hip, his other hand tightening on Sam's dick.
Sam ruts into Dean's fist, his head bowed down against Dean's shoulder. His fingers stretch out to slide over Dean's back, cupping his shoulder in an attempt to fight the booze and keep upright on the couch.
Dean's body is thrumming from overstimulation, from the noises Katie's making when she tightens around his dick and the painful mark Sam's sucking into the skin of his shoulder. His thrusts become more erratic and he can feel Katie start to pull away. Dean helps, lifting her by the hips and resettling her on his lap, his dick still rubbing up against her. Dean can feel the promise of teeth, the sharp bite followed by Sam's groan as he licks over it and Dean lets his head fall back as he starts to come up against her stomach.
Sam practically growls at the sight of Dean coming, his body tensing under Katie's. Katie starts to move faster, her hips rocking forward. Sam shifts his attention over to her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before trailing down to her breast. She whimpers when Sam takes her nipple into his mouth; her cries getting higher when Dean starts playing with her clit, his other hand reaching back for Sam's cock.
"Come on, baby," Dean growls and Sam can't tell who he's talking to, not that it matters cause the sound shoots straight to his dick. He pulls away from Katie, twisting around to lick into Dean's mouth as his hand joins Dean's on his cock.
It's only takes a couple of strokes before he's coming, spurting up against Dean's side and stomach with a loud groan. He slumps to the side, leaning against the couch and Dean.
Dean moves his hand from Sam to Katie, wrapping around her back and pulling her closer, other hand still moving between them. He leans up, whispering something in her ear that causes a shudder to roll through her body, her hands clutching at him as her orgasm hits her.
There's a slow untangling a few minutes later, and Dean flinches when a damp washcloth hits his chest out of nowhere.
"Don't get my couch gross, okay?"
"No promises." Dean sticks his tongue out at her. Sam's practically a dead weight against him, and Dean pushes him to an upright position. He quickly cleans them up, getting off the couch long enough to toss the washcloth in the bathroom hamper.
The moment he sits back down, Sam's tipping back over on him, head on Dean's chest and his legs hanging off the other end of the couch.
"You guys good with sharing out here? I can grab some sleeping bags if you want?" Katie turns to look at them from behind the couch. Dean can't see her face, the bedroom light behind her too bright in the otherwise dark room, but he can hear the smile in her voice.
"We're good," he manages to get out. Sam's a heavy presence against him. "Blankets?"
"On the chair next to you." She smirks. "Need me to hand them to you?"
"Nah, I'll make Sammy grab 'em."
"Night then." The door closes behind her and it takes Dean's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. There's a couple strips of light along the floor from the moon through the curtains, and in the back of Dean's mind he knows the couch is too small for either of them to be comfortable throughout the night. Either shove Sam off or move his own ass to one of the arm chairs, but then Sam's fingers tighten around Dean's hip, his thumb moving in circles over the bone. Dean doesn't know if it's an instinctual move or psychic, but he's still too drunk to care, too sated and instead he lets his head roll to the side, falling into sleep.
===
When Dean wakes up he's alone on the couch, a blanket haphazardly tossed over his lower body. He can hear movement in the kitchen, so he grabs up what he can of the fabric and shuffles towards the noise.
Sam's there, poking at something on the stove and he turns when he hears Dean's footsteps.
"Hey, food'll be ready in a couple of minutes."
Dean can smell bacon and coffee, which is all that really registers in his mind, and he goes to sit down at the kitchen table.
"Katie's gone," Sam mentions, filling up two plates with eggs and bacon.
"Not surprised." Dean takes the plate from Sam and starts to dig in. "She's never really one for goodbyes and all that."
"This is goodbye?"
Dean shrugs. "For at least another couple of years, probably. Unless everything goes to hell and the place is suddenly crawling with demons, but that hasn't happened yet."
Sam goes silent at the mention of demons, instead focusing on eating what's in front of him.
"So, any idea where we're headed next?" Dean breaks the quiet the best way he knows how.
"There's a couple things down in the southwest, chupacabra sightings, that sort of thing, or there's this hotel in Illinois, had a couple of really random deaths happen recently."
Dean thinks for a minute before nodding his head. "Gonna have to go with random deaths this time."
Sam shakes his head, smiling. "And here I had you pegged as a chupacabra kind of guy." He snags his coffee from the counter before turning back towards Dean. "Hey, what'd you tell her last night?"
"Last night?"
"Near the end of everything?"
Dean grins Cheshire-like, making no attempt to hide his amusement. "Just that the bed would probably be more comfortable, next time we're over."
"You're already making plans for next time?"
"Wouldn't you?"
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Dean/OFC, Sam/Dean/OFC, Dean/Sam
Word Count: ~5600
Rating: NC-17
Heads-up: Threesome
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Summary: A hunt and a chance meeting with an old friend might be just what the Winchesters need to get back into the game. Takes place mid-S2.
Notes: Pinch hit for the spn_reversebang. Many thanks to freetodream5 for the gorgeous artwork and the fun prompt! Thanks to chaosraven and thunder_nari for the awesome betas ♥
Dean's head jerks up, jarring him out of sleep. It's fucking weird, falling asleep while the Impala's rushing down the highway; a perk of having Sam around again. Even if his fingers do itch to push Sam over and take the wheel back.
"Pull over," he manages to get out, rubbing at his eyes. There's a sharp pain in his back from leaning against the door at a bad angle and Dean rolls his shoulders, trying to lessen the ache.
"Rest stop's coming up soon, three more miles or so." Sam keeps his eyes on the road, fingers gripping the wheel. He hasn't looked at Dean since they first got in the car, a couple hundred miles back Dean figures as he checks his watch.
Dean just grunts in response and does his best to stretch out without pissing off his bladder in the process. It's still light out, the benefit of driving in the summer and Dean allows himself to stare out the window until they reach the rest stop.
It's like any other one they've come across: brick and mortar bathrooms, though they sometimes have decorative rock if the state's worried about appearances. Dean's out of the Impala before Sam has her all the way in park, and Dean does his best to aim his middle finger towards the huff of laughter behind him as he stumbles towards the men's side.
The day's significantly looking up when he leaves; hands still damp cause whoever's supposed to restock this one hasn't stopped by and fixed the motor in the hand dryer. Dean's jeans are clean enough he reasons, and is still wiping the backs of his hands off on them as he approaches the car.
Sam's already in the passenger seat with the door open, one leg stretched out onto the asphalt and the other propped up against the dash. Dean opens the driver's door but stays standing, not really wanting to fold himself back into the car quite yet.
He doesn't hear the phone ring, just sees Sam through the windshield, reaching down at the catchall by the gear shift. Dean doesn't think anything of it until there's a rattle as Sam pounds on the ceiling, grabbing his attention and waving Dean's cell phone at him.
Dean ducks down for a moment before sliding onto the seat, eyes watching Sam's face as Sam answers his phone. He doesn't realize he's tuned out the background noise until Sam starts talking again, his voice sounding odd. Dean chalks it up as another call about a weird hunt.
"Katie?" Sam looks over at Dean expectantly, and Dean shrugs until something clicks it all together. He pokes at Sam, mouths at him, what's her last name? and tries not to smirk at the lost look on Sam's face.
"Sharpe? Katie Sharpe?" Sam repeats, eyes locked on Dean's, looking for some sort of reassurance.
"Wait, that Katie?" Dean shakes his head and tries not to grab at the phone. "Is there a case?"
Sam nods, and Dean does his best to hold back. "Get the info. Ask her if the address is the same?"
That's when Sam just looks at him, eyes staring as he repeats the info, and Dean swears he can hear the happy confirmation on the other end of the line from where he sits, can hear Katie repeating the info, her voice curling around the words with slick promise.
He starts when Sam shuts the phone with a sharp click, and he almost feels guilty when he looks over to meet Sam's gaze. Dean understands now why Sam's been avoiding direct eye contact the past few states, the way his brother's glare makes his belly churn.
"So, we got a case?" Dean aims for professional, even though he can feel his skin prickling under Sam's stare.
"Yeah."
The fact that Sam's so abrupt and not forthcoming should be enough to warn Dean off, but he's the first to admit he can be a slow leaner, especially when it comes to Sam and girls mixing together like that.
"So, uhh, Katie still in Montana?" Dean focuses on not hitting any of the happy-go-lucky tourists as he carefully backs out of the space. He itches to get back onto the freeway, to press down on the gas and roll his shoulders and clear his head. He's pretty sure Sam's not going to let him get away with most of that.
"Yeah."
The silence drags out between them, ticking by with every mile marker that flashes past and Dean doesn't really get annoyed until he sees Sam shift out of the corner of his eye. He pulls out his laptop and starts to quickly type away at something.
"Did she say what was going on?" Dean hates that he's aiming for casual conversation with his brother, but it's happening more and more, ever since they bumped shoulders and burned their father's corpse. Sam's still pissed but Dean only knows half the reasons it seems like.
"Sort of. Might be ghosts but she can't tell for sure. " There's a snort of amusement that punctuates Sam's words and Dean's familiar with the noise. It's the same one that kept showing up during their dad's lectures throughout their childhood, when Sam just stopped caring about the consequences.
"Seriously Sam, what crawled up your ass and died? I thought you wanted to go out and be busy. And here something drops into our laps." Dean glances over at Sam, who's twisting Dean's phone around and staring at the screen.
Sam huffs out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, she seemed pretty eager to get into your lap. How long's it been Dean? From the sound of it it's been awhile since you called her."
"Wait, what? Are you pissed off about a girl, Sammy?"
Sam shuts his laptop hard before turning to glare at Dean. "It's the fact that this is another secret in a long line of secrets you've been keeping from me. It's getting fucking old, Dean. And seriously, first Cassie, now this girl? How many are out there, Dean, really?"
If they were alone on the road Dean wouldn't have hesitated to punch the brakes and even now the car drops down to fifty-five, quick enough to shove the laptop back into Sam's stomach.
"Katie's an old friend of Dad's. He met up with her on a hunt years back and helped her out when she was just starting." Dean pauses while he brings the car back up to speed. "Stuff's come up since then, yeah, and I did what I could when I was in the area, but it's not what you're thinking."
"Really?"
Dean glances over at Sam and grips at the wheel. "She's not a hunter, really. Her town's prone to ghosts, so she sort of took on the job when no one else was able to. We've just been helping them out when something bigger comes along."
"Well, from what she told me it sounds like it could be anything, but the reception got crappy and she wasn't able to finish filling me in."
Dean chuckles. "Yeah, her place is sort of out there."
===
The road's hard on the Impala, gravel crunching underneath the tires, potholes causing the frame to shudder around them. Dean swears under his breath as he does his best to maneuver around it all, attempting to avoid sharp dips and low hanging tree branches all at the same time.
"You sure this is the right way?" Sam asks, and Dean tries to avoid acknowledging the smirk on Sam's face.
"Recognize that burnt out stump over there," he grits out, and when Sam turns to look Dean takes the opportunity to hit one of the potholes, banging Sam's head against the roof. "Bitch. Stop doubting me."
"Fuck you," Sam spits out, turning his whole body around to face the window.
"Not now, princess," Dean responds automatically.
Dean's tempted to say something else, wishes he could but there's a tight turn coming up and he's pretty sure Sam would just shrug off anything Dean throws at him now. So he focuses on getting the Impala around the bend, holding his breath when it seems like she's going to scrape up against the trees lining the road. They get through cleanly though, and the rest of the road seems mild in comparison.
Sam doesn't speak until they've reached the house, twisting his body around to look up at it through the windshield. "She's alone out here?"
Dean snorts out a laugh. "The whole town's spread out like this, except for the main drag. Just wait til you meet her. She can handle herself."
"Of course she can," Sam mutters, so low Dean wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening for it.
Dean ignores him, pulling up next to the Jeep parked to the side of the house. By the time he's out of the car Katie's already halfway across the yard, grinning as she walks up to him.
"Hey stranger." She has to reach up to get her arms around Dean's neck to give him a hug. "How long has it been now?"
"Too long." Dean figures vague is better and steps back, glancing over his shoulder. "This is Sam. You guys talked earlier?"
"Yeah." Sam holds his hand out and Katie shakes it, eyes tracking the length of his body. "As much as we could, really."
"Oh man, sorry about that." Katie waves towards the trees. "When it gets windy around here everything starts to flicker. Come on in."
Dean follows her towards the house, hearing a door slam on the Impala as Sam grabs his laptop bag. Their boots echo on the porch steps. The area under the overhang is scattered with camping supplies and chopped wood.
She opens the door wide behind her, inviting them in as she heads to the far side of the living room. Dean makes a beeline for the kitchen. He doesn't realize Sam followed him and is staring from the kitchen doorway until he turns around, glass in hand.
"First try?"
Dean can feel the flush rise in his cheeks. "She hasn't moved them in four years."
"Huh."
"I said she wasn't a girlfriend, Sam."
Sam shrugs at him. "Don't care Dean, I really don't."
"You guys found the drinks okay?" Katie's voice appears before she does, cutting Dean off. She slides in between Sam and the doorway to head towards the fridge. "There's juice and soda and water. Anything harder's for later."
"Later?" Dean asks, grabbing a third glass from the cupboard.
"I'm not going out and shooting at things if you guys are tanked."
"You've never done a shot for your nerves?" Sam asks.
"Once at the beginning of things, and it was several shots." She smiles ruefully. "And then I ended up shooting the angel on top of my mother's headstone. Cost me $275 to replace, okay? No drinking and playing with firearms, at least while I'm out there with you." Katie grins at Sam as she pulls out three sodas. "You've never done something stupid like that?"
Dean starts to talk but Sam interjects, cutting Dean off with a warning glare. "Between the two of us I'm sure we have more than enough stories." Sam glances out of the window. "Are we heading out tonight?"
Katie glances at them both before nodding. "It shouldn't be too difficult, with all three of us. Unless it turns out to be more than what we're expecting."
Sam nods, standing up straight and cracking his back. "I'm gonna go narrow that down for you." He heads out towards the living room, leaving Dean and Katie alone in the kitchen.
Dean snags a soda from Katie's hand, popping the can open before taking a long gulp. "He'll warm up to you, I promise."
Katie arches an eyebrow at him as she puts the glasses away, unused. "I'm not expecting us all to be best friends. This is a job, I get it."
"He thinks we have a thing going on."
Katie laughs at that, her shoulders shaking as she opens her own soda. "I'm assuming you denied that?"
"Tried to, but he doesn't believe me."
"Neither would I." Katie takes a sip. "And with good reason."
"We were talking current tense. You're bringing up the past."
"Mmm, maybe, but you can't tell me it wasn't good."
Dean smirks at that, reaches out to snag her wrist and pull her in close. "Still could be."
"You want to prove your brother right?"
"He won't find out," Dean murmurs, hand sliding up to cup her cheek. He ducks down to kiss her briefly, fingers teasing the soft skin of her neck. His other hand rises to rest on her hip, and she makes a surprised noise against his mouth.
"Still a cocky bastard, huh," she smiles up at him.
"That'll never change." Sam's voice startles them apart, Katie backing up into the counter. "Your router needs to be reset."
"Yeah, uh, that's over by the desk in the far corner, help yourself."
Dean's hands fall to his sides, and he can see the blush rise on her cheeks.
"I'll go talk to him." Dean grabs the unopened can of soda and starts to walk towards the door, but he stops when he feels her fingers against his arm.
"Hold on. It's going to get dark soon, so why not grab what you need from the car? I can take that in to him and make sure the internet's connecting okay." Katie holds out her hand, palm up.
Dean hesitates a moment before finally nodding, passing the soda over to her.
Katie grabs hers as well and heads towards the living room, smiling when she hears the front door open and close behind her. Sam's on the couch, hunched over the laptop he has set up on the coffee table, a couple files and a worn journal piled up next to him.
Katie sits down on the other end of the couch, resisting the urge to tuck her feet up underneath her. She waits until Sam glances over at her and she holds up the soda with a questioning look.
"Thanks." Sam takes it, looking grateful for the caffeine boost. The room falls silent again as he drinks, and Katie takes a quick peek at his laptop screen.
"Ended up getting it all worked out?"
"Yeah, thanks." Sam sets the can down on the folders. "Sorry about interrupting back there."
Katie shakes her head. "Nothing there to interrupt. Hasn't been for a while either."
Sam looks over at her then, "Right."
"Are we still thinking ghosts for tonight?" Katie changes the subject and the stress in Sam's shoulders seems to lessen.
"Yeah. From what I can tell it just looks like there's so much activity going on, it's registering as something greater than it actually is."
"So it's just a crapload of ghosts?"
"Yup. Anything major happen here that could set them all off like this?"
Katie shrugs. "It could be anything out here, really. There's several older burial sites a ways out, but we have one right in town as well."
"What counts as old?"
"Early 1900s? There was a surge of people coming out here around that time, completely unprepared for most everything they came across. Some managed to limp along with help, but there's stories of whole towns dropping dead from starvation, the weather..." Katie trails off. "Pretty much everything the state threw at them knocked them on their asses."
"Yeah, that could do it. Are any of them buried around here?"
"Probably, yeah. The cemetery sort of fades back into the woods, and I'm sure a lot of the older graves are hidden back there."
"Well, at least that gives us a starting point." Sam pulls the laptop onto his lap and leans back against the couch. "Let me try to narrow it down a little more."
Katie takes a long sip of soda before twisting around on the couch so that she's facing Sam. "So, you've been hunting long?"
Sam just stares at her for a beat before barking out a laugh. "Did Dean not mention me at all? Cause I've been doing this my whole life," he gestures towards the files and journal. "Not surprised though, he wasn't too happy with me for awhile."
"Really?" Katie seems intrigued. "Cause the last time we talked he wouldn't shut up about you, kicking ass and taking names at Stanford. He's really proud of you, Sam."
"Huh..."
"You knew that, right?" Sam can hear the worry in Katie's voice.
"Not that he was telling other people about me and what I was up to."
Katie smiles, reaching a foot out to nudge at his calf. "Your dad did too, and he was just as proud of all your accomplishments."
Sam starts at her words, looking over to stare at her. "You talked to my dad about me?"
"Called him a year or so ago when I got wind of a wendigo in the area and I had questions. Wasn't much time to talk about other stuff, but we managed to catch up as best we could."
"You know he's dead?" It comes out harsher than Sam intends, and he almost wishes he could take it back.
But Katie's nodding, her eyes downcast. "Heard about it a month or so ago. Grapevine gets a little slow sometimes, but Bobby got around to calling me up."
"You know Bobby?"
"I may not be a hunter like you guys, Sam, but I wasn't completely dependent on your dad or brother. John made sure of that."
"Huh."
There's a low metallic slam from outside, and the heavy beat of boots as Dean crosses the porch and comes back inside, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Sam's thankful for the interruption in the conversation.
"Know what's going bump in the night yet?" Dean hefts the bag up before carefully setting it on the floor.
"Pissed off settler ghosts." Sam doesn't bother looking up from the screen.
"Right Sam, when you put it that way, completely logical."
"We've come across stupider shit that needed to be taken care of."
"Not gonna argue that one."
Katie just looks amused, watching the two of them talk, and Dean smirks at the way her eyes seem to keep tracking over Sam.
"Think it's dark enough to head out?" She asks, looking over at Dean.
He glances out the window, trying to see the sky through the heavy canopy of branches. "Probably. We should be fine by the time we get there. And the sooner we take care of them the sooner we can come back and celebrate." He smirks at Sam and Katie. "I remember you having some nice stuff stocked away."
Sam tenses and Katie shakes her head with a smile. "That's long gone, Dean. There might be something tucked away, if you do things right tonight."
"Good to know. You need to get ready or anything?"
"I was ready before you two even showed up today." Katie stands and stretches. "Let me grab my gear and we can head out." She disappears into a back room and they can hear fabric rustling.
Dean moves closer to Sam, nudging at him with his foot until Sam looks up and meets Dean's eyes. "Hey man, we good?"
Sam nods, barely, before closing the laptop and standing up. He's still growing somehow, filling out and the height gap between the two of them is on Sam's side now. "You know it just comes down to me and you, Dean. Always does."
Dean nods, pretty sure he's getting most of it but there's an underlying earnestness, desperation almost, in Sam's voice that keeps Dean's eyes trained on him.
"Ready to head out?" Katie's voice breaks them apart, Dean stumbling back a few steps. When he looks back at Sam, Sam's just smirking at him, a possessively pleased grin on his face.
"Yeah, uh." Dean's thrown off balance, and he shakes his head. Sam's still smiling and Dean wants to ask him what's up, what's changed since the car ride but there's not enough time right now, not enough space with Katie heading towards them, and Dean's pretty sure Sam's planned the whole damn thing out.
"We're taking my Jeep." And Katie shakes her head when Dean starts to protest. "The road to the cemetery can get even worse than mine. Besides, I've been there before, multiple times."
"You're not gonna win this one, Dean." Sam shrugs, grabbing the bag from the floor. "Shotgun," he calls out, bumping his shoulder against Dean's.
===
The hunt goes well, Dean decides as they pile back into Katie's Jeep. He manages to not bang his head as he slides into the backseat, twisting around to place his handgun in the back with the other weapons. He had counted at least fifteen ghosts, the wispy mass separating and sharpening into individual figures as they had approached the three hunters.
All three of them are disgusting, covered in graveyard dirt and fluids. Dean doesn't even want to know where they came from. He lets his head fall forward against the back of the driver's seat and tries not to groan too loudly at the thought of a hot shower.
"You guys ready?" Katie starts up the engine as the last door slams shut.
Dean's eyes open when there's a sudden press against his side; Sam, sweaty and dirty and closer than he should be. Dean raises his head and looks over at Sam, caught off guard by how wide his eyes are in the moonlight.
"Sam?"
"We're good," Sam tells Katie, drowning out Dean before leaning back and resting his arm along the seat back.
Dean just lifts an eyebrow at him, waiting until Sam shrugs before mouthing at him what's going on?
Sam moves closer to him, if that's even possible, ducking his head so that his lips brush against Dean's ear. "It felt... normal back there for a moment. Like things were all back in sync again."
Dean nods and Sam stays quiet after that. Sam doesn't move though, and after one harsh pothole Dean finds his hand resting on Sam's thigh. Neither of them moves for the rest of the drive back to the house.
===
"Dibs on the shower," Katie calls out when they get inside. "You guys can fight over the rest of the hot water when I'm done," she adds, shutting the bedroom door behind her.
Dean heads towards the kitchen, ducking down in front of one of the low cupboards. He can see the shine of glass behind the stack of pots, and he grunts as he pulls out the bottle of whiskey.
"Thought she didn't drink that?" Sam asks from the doorway, causing Dean to jump.
"Stop creeping around like that. And she doesn't, she just keeps a bottle around for visitors."
"Hidden away?"
"Shut up Sam, or you're not getting any."
Sam stays quiet as Dean pours them both tumblers, raising his eyebrow at how high Dean pours.
"Stop whining and drink your liquor, Sammy." Dean raises his glass towards Sam before taking a long drink. Sam mimics him, doing his best to keep up until both glasses are empty.
The shower's still running, so Dean nods towards the couch, leaving his glass on the counter. Sam follows suit but grabs the bottle before trailing after Dean.
Dean lets himself get dragged down on the couch, the alcohol hitting his system; Sam falling down next to him, staying close and fumbling with the lid to the whiskey bottle. It's all so familiar, like when they were teenagers and Dad was off on a long hunt, leaving the two of them alone to figure things out. It had been awkward and gut-churning and perfect back then, Dean letting Sam set the pace, and they start to fall back into that rhythm again, as Sam offers the opened bottle over to Dean first.
Dean takes a long pull from the bottle, the glass clinking against his front teeth as he tips it up too quickly. Sam's hand is hovering over Dean's belly, just as cautious as Dean's trying to be, even with the surge of alcohol pushing them along. Dean shifts just enough to make contact. Sam's fingers are cool even through the thin fabric of Dean's t-shirt.
Sam moves closer, ducking his head down to rest on Dean's shoulder and Dean shudders when he realizes how familiar it is, interlocking as Sam tries to keep nuzzling in closer, and Dean's still not even sure what's brought this up, this whole new side of Sam that's too busy fumbling with Dean's belt buckle to bitch about what a dick Dean's been recently.
"Sammy," he manages to stutter , reaching up with his free hand to tangle it in Sam's hair. Sam whimpers at the pull, allowing himself to follow Dean's hand until he's gazing back at Dean, eyes heavy lidded.
"Missed this, Dean," Sam whispers before leaning towards him, and the whiskey hits Dean a second before Sam's mouth does, damp and cautious on his lips.
Dean's head is pounding, overwhelmed by everything that's happened tonight and he grounds himself the best way he remembers how, his fingers grabbing at Sam. He loosens his grip in Sam's hair, his hand sliding down to curl around the back of his neck, keeping him close. Dean grasps the hem of Sam's shirt with his other hand, slowly working it up until it's rucked up around Sam's armpits.
Dean pulls away and grins at how red Sam's mouth is. "Raise up," Dean tells him, tugging at the shirt and Sam pulls it off in one smooth movement.
"Oh." Katie's voice is loud in the nearly silent room, and Dean's annoyed that she's out of his line of vision, that he can't see the look on her face. But Sam's smiling at her, soft and bashful and Dean's confused again.
"Hey there," Sam says, smiling wider before leaning down and kissing Dean, licking into his mouth with a groan. Dean's completely distracted until there's suddenly another pair of hands on him, finishing up Sam's work on his belt buckle. It doesn't fully hit him until Sam cards his fingers through Dean's hair, holding him in place as their kiss deepens.
He lifts up his hips automatically when he feels the tug on his waistband, gasping into Sam's mouth as the cool air hits his skin. Slender fingers wrap around his cock and a heartbeat later Katie's licking around his dick.
Dean's eyes close at the sensation of her mouth when she swallows him down. He can feel Sam pull back and the couch shift as he gets off. Dean opens an eye in time to watch Sam shuck his jeans and boxers off.
"Sammy," Dean's not fully sure how far this is going, if it hasn't already gone far enough. But Sam climbs back on the couch, crouching next to Dean as his eyes track Katie's movements.
"S'okay, Dean, come on." Sam inches his knees closer, his large frame is bent over his brother as he tries to nip at Dean's neck. "Please."
Dean reaches out with his hand, trailing up Sam's thigh until he reaches his belly, and Dean grins at the way Sam shudders when he takes hold of his cock. Dean can feel Katie lean back to watch, her hand still moving on Dean's dick.
Katie's frozen on the floor watching, still nestled between Dean's legs until Dean grabs hold of a lock of her hair and gently tugs. "Come here," he murmurs, shifting lower on the couch, his legs spreading wider.
She climbs on top of him, holding herself up until Sam reaches out towards her and runs a hand down her spine. She whimpers at the touch, moving forward just enough for Dean to slide into her. Dean grasps at her hip, his other hand tightening on Sam's dick.
Sam ruts into Dean's fist, his head bowed down against Dean's shoulder. His fingers stretch out to slide over Dean's back, cupping his shoulder in an attempt to fight the booze and keep upright on the couch.
Dean's body is thrumming from overstimulation, from the noises Katie's making when she tightens around his dick and the painful mark Sam's sucking into the skin of his shoulder. His thrusts become more erratic and he can feel Katie start to pull away. Dean helps, lifting her by the hips and resettling her on his lap, his dick still rubbing up against her. Dean can feel the promise of teeth, the sharp bite followed by Sam's groan as he licks over it and Dean lets his head fall back as he starts to come up against her stomach.
Sam practically growls at the sight of Dean coming, his body tensing under Katie's. Katie starts to move faster, her hips rocking forward. Sam shifts his attention over to her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before trailing down to her breast. She whimpers when Sam takes her nipple into his mouth; her cries getting higher when Dean starts playing with her clit, his other hand reaching back for Sam's cock.
"Come on, baby," Dean growls and Sam can't tell who he's talking to, not that it matters cause the sound shoots straight to his dick. He pulls away from Katie, twisting around to lick into Dean's mouth as his hand joins Dean's on his cock.
It's only takes a couple of strokes before he's coming, spurting up against Dean's side and stomach with a loud groan. He slumps to the side, leaning against the couch and Dean.
Dean moves his hand from Sam to Katie, wrapping around her back and pulling her closer, other hand still moving between them. He leans up, whispering something in her ear that causes a shudder to roll through her body, her hands clutching at him as her orgasm hits her.
There's a slow untangling a few minutes later, and Dean flinches when a damp washcloth hits his chest out of nowhere.
"Don't get my couch gross, okay?"
"No promises." Dean sticks his tongue out at her. Sam's practically a dead weight against him, and Dean pushes him to an upright position. He quickly cleans them up, getting off the couch long enough to toss the washcloth in the bathroom hamper.
The moment he sits back down, Sam's tipping back over on him, head on Dean's chest and his legs hanging off the other end of the couch.
"You guys good with sharing out here? I can grab some sleeping bags if you want?" Katie turns to look at them from behind the couch. Dean can't see her face, the bedroom light behind her too bright in the otherwise dark room, but he can hear the smile in her voice.
"We're good," he manages to get out. Sam's a heavy presence against him. "Blankets?"
"On the chair next to you." She smirks. "Need me to hand them to you?"
"Nah, I'll make Sammy grab 'em."
"Night then." The door closes behind her and it takes Dean's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. There's a couple strips of light along the floor from the moon through the curtains, and in the back of Dean's mind he knows the couch is too small for either of them to be comfortable throughout the night. Either shove Sam off or move his own ass to one of the arm chairs, but then Sam's fingers tighten around Dean's hip, his thumb moving in circles over the bone. Dean doesn't know if it's an instinctual move or psychic, but he's still too drunk to care, too sated and instead he lets his head roll to the side, falling into sleep.
===
When Dean wakes up he's alone on the couch, a blanket haphazardly tossed over his lower body. He can hear movement in the kitchen, so he grabs up what he can of the fabric and shuffles towards the noise.
Sam's there, poking at something on the stove and he turns when he hears Dean's footsteps.
"Hey, food'll be ready in a couple of minutes."
Dean can smell bacon and coffee, which is all that really registers in his mind, and he goes to sit down at the kitchen table.
"Katie's gone," Sam mentions, filling up two plates with eggs and bacon.
"Not surprised." Dean takes the plate from Sam and starts to dig in. "She's never really one for goodbyes and all that."
"This is goodbye?"
Dean shrugs. "For at least another couple of years, probably. Unless everything goes to hell and the place is suddenly crawling with demons, but that hasn't happened yet."
Sam goes silent at the mention of demons, instead focusing on eating what's in front of him.
"So, any idea where we're headed next?" Dean breaks the quiet the best way he knows how.
"There's a couple things down in the southwest, chupacabra sightings, that sort of thing, or there's this hotel in Illinois, had a couple of really random deaths happen recently."
Dean thinks for a minute before nodding his head. "Gonna have to go with random deaths this time."
Sam shakes his head, smiling. "And here I had you pegged as a chupacabra kind of guy." He snags his coffee from the counter before turning back towards Dean. "Hey, what'd you tell her last night?"
"Last night?"
"Near the end of everything?"
Dean grins Cheshire-like, making no attempt to hide his amusement. "Just that the bed would probably be more comfortable, next time we're over."
"You're already making plans for next time?"
"Wouldn't you?"