Blue Bliss, Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
<<< >>>
The three of you sit in the galley, the mood light and jovial. Dinner is reheated Bigerson’s with pie for dessert. It’s not half bad but you find yourself hoping that one or both of the boys will cook again soon, and you tell them as much. They both beam with pride at the praise. Your ‘therapy’ session with Dean did a world of good and your ‘chat’ with Sam had an equal effect because you all end up joking around and teasing each other through dinner. Dean gets a bit handsy when the opportunity presents itself, apparently feeling very familiar with you now and not giving a single fuck what Sam thinks. Sam shows absolutely no reaction to Dean’s roaming hands, which is a little surprising, but you aren’t sure how to read him right now. He made it very clear that there would be a ‘later’ and you aren’t exactly sure what that means but the anticipation is agonizing and delicious. Regardless, Sam never cracks; his attitude and demeanor never betraying his desires and his salacious plan, at least never when Dean is looking. It’s provocative and so damn seductive to see Sam’s self control; you can’t help but admire him whenever you can but when Dean isn’t looking things get even more interesting. Dean heads to the fridge for another beer. Suddenly Sam shifts into this intense force of lust, his eyes fucking you from across the table as he leans forward and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. The suddenness is like a blow to your gut, powerful and breathtaking and you struggle to contain your emotions as Dean closes the fridge and heads back to the table. By then Sam has shifted back into jolly-lighthearted-Sam, leaning back and taking another bite of dinner, leaving you a hot wreck. His execution is flawless and any time Dean is distracted Sam’s eyes capture yours, vivid and consuming, reminding you of his promise.
Dean leaves the two of you to clean up the dishes, proclaiming it’s his night to pick the movie and he’s going on the hunt for something fun. Your mind has been spinning, reveling in the forward possession that Dean has over you followed by the private and intense power that Sam keeps hidden for only you. Its one hell of a ride all around and your body is humming with pleasure at all the attention.
Your conversation with Sam is fun; a continuation from dinner and the dishes are a quick chore made quicker by good company. You’re rinsing off the last plate to put in the drainer as Sam dries his hands on the towel and you don’t notice his shift in demeanor. Without warning Sam’s lips are against yours, stealing your breath away and setting your body alight with need as you stand there, hands slightly raised to each side as water runs down your arms and drips to the floor. Sam closes the space, his hand on your back pressing you in closer, as his tongue drifts between your lips. His height makes it feel like he’s on top of you, encompassing you, and you melt into him, a quiet moan escaping between licks of his tongue. Just as you fully realize the splendor of the moment, it’s over, because Sam suddenly pulls away and steps back. There is a wicked, wrecked smile on his face as he smoothes his hair and steadies his breathing. Holy shit he is so cruel and so damn hot. The veins in his arms are bulging from the strain it’s taking to keep him from coming back in for more and you notice that his body is shaking ever so slightly. Sam Winchester has never looked sexier, standing there with his jaw clenched tight, controlling himself with sheer willpower. You’re pretty sure all you’d have to do is touch him and his control would snap. You could, but then the game would be over and Dean would have to watch his movie alone because you and Sam would be too busy fucking hard and passionate on the kitchen table, but where is the fun in that? You surprise yourself with that thought and then realize that while it would be hella awesome to fuck on the table, this game is shaping up to be even more fun and satisfying, so you want to play too. Your very own naughty little smile appears as you lock eyes with Sam. You dry off on the nearby towel and slowly walk out of the room. Two can play at this fun game.
<<< >>>
Spaceballs. Always good for a chuckle, which is more or less the argument Dean gives. “Come on. It’s Star Wars, just a helluva lot funnier.” His radiant smile is easily enough to convince you to be on board, besides, Mel Brooks is awesome. Sam seems like he wants to protest but then thinks better of it when you appear to be ok with the selection. The three of you are standing in a room you’ve never seen before; the boys apparently retooled it as a bit of an entertainment room somewhere along the way. There’s a mini-fridge full of beer, a worn out couch with a half decent flat screen tv on the wall opposite it, and a couple of semi-decent chairs sitting at a little round table in the corner near the door. “Why don’t you go pop us some popcorn Sammy?” Dean tosses the words over his shoulder as he stoops to put in the movie.
“Nope. You know the rules man. You pick, you pop.” Sam’s arms are folded across his chest with a look of no-negotiation-allowed. Dean glances at him, frowns, and then sighs.
“Damn it”, Dean is barely audible but it’s still heard by everyone in the room. “Ok. Fine. But that means no whining when I make it the awesome way.” Sam shrugs at the finger Dean points at him, a sign of submission and no whining. Dean perks up at his own thought of making ‘awesome’ popcorn and he heads out the door towards the kitchen.
Before Dean is even out of earshot Sam is on you. “Now you’re mine.” Almost a purr from Sam’s lips as he lifts you from where you were perched on the arm of the couch, pulling you into him, like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. Your mouth is the source of his oxygen and he devours you with savage kisses. He doesn’t hurt you. He is raging yet soft, intense yet gentle. He’s still holding back. You feel it. It’s like he wants to gorge, to consume all of you, leaving nothing untouched or unsatisfied. You try to match his hunger but fall short because he is fierce, leaving you breathless and overpowered, body quivering in his embrace. His tongue is commanding and his hands are firm and confident as they roam over your clothes, gripping your ass, your breasts, your hips, sliding up between your legs to tease your sex. It’s splendid torture. Sam’s powerful hands sending waves of pleasure in their wake. The world melts away and there is only Sam, blazing bright with lust. His hunger is voracious and you cling to him as he rages into you. For a full second you worry about Dean walking in but the unyielding force of Sam burns that away and you don’t care if you get caught because you don’t want this to stop, ever.
But it does stop and you feel so desolate and cold when Sam pries himself from you. His breathing is ragged and his body is shaking. He straightens his spine and takes a moment to steady himself, running his hand down his face and through his hair as he begins to calm himself, all while never taking his eyes off you. He looks wrecked and sexy and you want him so badly but your legs are pudding and all you can manage to do is lean back against the arm of the couch. Sam clears his throat, shakes his arms like he’s shaking off a muscle burn from lifting, and then peels his eyes from you so he can raid the mini-fridge, trying to act like that moment never happened.
Sam comes up with three bottles and he sets them on the little table in front of the couch. He’s back to his placid poker face self as he gently guides you to the middle of the couch, helping you sit down like you’re an invalid, and to be honest you sorta feel like one right now. You feel Sam’s controlled tension when he touches you and it’s electric, merely adding to your disjointed state. Dean walks in the door as Sam takes a seat to your right while handing you a beer. Dean grins big when he sees that he gets to sit next to you, “Thanks for waiting. I’ve seen this a hundred times but I hate it when I miss shit, you know?” Dean plops down on the couch to your left as Sam pops the top off a beer for him. You blush when you think of what he just missed.
<<< >>>
There you are, sitting between two monumental distractions, each one touching you and causing that pool of lust in your stomach to pitch and churn. Dean has his hand firmly planted on your thigh, his thumb rubbing mindlessly on the fabric of your borrowed cargo pants. Tingles of yearning run straight up your leg to your sweet spot, driving you to distraction. He only moves his hand to grab popcorn from the bowl that’s balanced in your lap and then it goes right back on your leg again. Sam is no less of a distraction even though his hand rests at a gentlemanly distance from you. His leg is pressed firmly against yours from hip to floor, electric tingles along every inch that’s touching, and even his foot is pressed to yours because he knows Dean won’t look.
Thank God you’ve seen this movie before because you aren’t watching. You vaguely comprehend what is happening on screen as you stare straight ahead or find yourself locking eyes and grinning with each brother intermittently. You laugh when they laugh, pulling cues from their reactions, but your mind is a puddle of preoccupied carnal thoughts and it’s taking all your willpower to refrain from acting on your desires. You feel the same strain from each of them but apparently they are much better at denying themselves, because they both appear at ease despite that.
Somewhere around ‘ludicrous speed’ Dean’s cell phone goes off. He flips to all business in an instant as he launches off the couch. Your left side feels suddenly cold and abandoned as Dean answers with a “Talk to me,” before he’s even made it into the hallway. You look to Sam, your face asking the question of what’s going on, instead of saying it out loud.
“Not sure. Could be nothing.” Sam answers quietly as he follows Dean with his eyes. You hear a note of something in his voice. Apprehension? Maybe fear? You aren’t sure which. Part of you is focused on what the call could mean and the other part is aching to take advantage of this little opportunity. You look at Sam and he is completely preoccupied, trying in vain to listen in on the phone call, much to your disappointment, so you refrain from acting. After a minute or two of silence between you and Sam, Dean comes striding back into the room with a, “Thanks Cas. Got it.”
“Cas?” Sam stands up, going on full alert. “He’s got something?” You stand up too, hugging the popcorn bowl as you listen.
“Yeah, he thinks so. We gotta roll out now or we’ll miss our chance. Cas thinks it’s a groupa demons with some scary secret plan.” Dean’s sarcastic tone and the sigh threaded throughout that last part makes him sound annoyed, like he’s tired of bad guys always trying to do bad things. “They’re tucked up in a little clubhouse, couple hours’ drive from here; we can be there before sun up.” Dean plunges his hand into the bowl you’re holding, shoves a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth, and then starts heading back towards the hallway.
“Wait. Dean.” Sam’s plea is insistent. Dean goes full stop and stares at Sammy, chewing and waiting. “I should stay here. We can’t leave her here unprotected.” Sam’s words appear almost desperate, like he really doesn’t want to go. You know why he wants to stay and you find yourself hoping beyond hope that Dean can fly solo; but you remain silent, merely listening and shifting your eyes from one brother to the other as Yogurt shows off his flamethrower in the background.
“Really Sammy?” It’s Dean’s turn to wear a bitchface and it’s pretty glorious. “This is the safest place on the planet and she’s a big girl who can take care of herself.” Dean turns to you, “Right?” His expression indicating that you, indeed, are a grown up who can handle this and you better agree. You just stare at Dean. You don’t know how to answer. Sure you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean you want to be alone right now, or ever for that matter. Dean reads your non-response as fear; so he sighs and tucks his phone in his pocket while heading towards you. His excited hurry has melted away for the moment as he puts his hands on your shoulders and rubs his thumbs gently against your collarbone, his emerald eyes holding your attention. “Listen. I don’t want to leave you here high and dry. I really don’t. In fact I hate the idea, but I need backup. I need Sam. He’s the best damn hunter out there. Better than me, and I need him. We gotta do this, ok? This could be the answer we’ve been looking for. With any luck we’ll come back with the mystery solved and we can all have a Scooby snack.” Dean cups your cheek in one hand, making sure you keep eye contact. “Don’t worry, we won’t be gone long.” He gives you a genuinely reassuring smile as he runs his thumb along your cheekbone and you reply with a quiet ok. Dean’s smile broadens, “that’s my girl” and then he leans in and presses his lips against yours. He lingers for moment, revaluating the urgency of things, but the hunter in him wins out and Dean wills himself to stop. As he pulls away, he scrutinizes Sam who is watching and you can see the possessive glint in Dean’s eyes for a split second before he turns towards the door and belts out, “Come on Sammy, times a wastin’.” Your eyes follow Dean as he exits the room and then they slowly pan the room until they latch onto Sam.
Sam suddenly looks wrecked. All that cool self-control from before is melting because you know he wasn’t expecting this and neither were you. He didn’t think he’d have to wait much longer to have you and now… now. Who knows when he will get his next chance? His long legs bring him into your space quickly. He plucks the bowl of popcorn from your hands, setting it on the couch, his gaze never leaving you. Both of Sam’s hands thread up into your hair, holding you firmly as his mouth encompasses yours, his tongue pressing in hot and desperate. You stand there receiving, pliant in his grip. The promise he pours into that kiss is overwhelming, leaving you stunned. It says that he will be back and he will have you. Sam releases your lips, rests his forehead against yours and softly asks, “Where’s your cell phone?”
It takes you a minute before you realize he asked a question and you have to swim through a thick haze of desire to find your way back to some sort of reality. When you don’t answer, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kisses your lips one more time, and then steps back while asking again, “Where’s your cell phone?” You feel so empty without his touch and are embarrassed to say you practically whimper a reply, telling him it’s in your room. “Come with me.” He takes your hand, electric tingles again, and he guides you out of the room and down the hallway as the tv continues to play. -It’s Mega Maid, she’s gone from suck to blow.
You walk at a hurried pace down the hallway, hand still clutched in Sam’s as you try to keep up with his long stride. When you get to your room he swipes the cell phone from the bedside table and then pauses, “May I?” You give him a wary yes, wondering what he’s doing. He pushes some buttons, then a couple more buttons. “There. We have your number now, and you have both Dean’s number and mine.” He hands you the phone, “If you need anything.” He closes the space between you, “And I mean anything” His fingers cup your chin as he forces you to meet his gaze once more, “Don’t hesitate to call or text either one of us, ok? Ok?” He searches your face for agreement and you give it to him. He relaxes just a little and then he swoops in for another deep drought from your lips.
“Sammy? What’s keepin’ ya?” Dean’s voice echoes through the corridors forcing Sam to tear himself away from you once more, leaving you wanting. He steps back, giving you a strained smile of regret mixed in with the most adorable set of puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s like he wants to play but has been scolded and can’t. Then he turns the corner and you hear his pace quicken to a run as he heads towards Dean’s bellowing voice.
You head towards the main entrance with your cell phone clutched in your hand, still warm from Sam’s hand, and you hear the outside door to the bunker slam shut and the giant wheel twists until it latches. It echoes throughout the silent halls with finality like a tomb. Suddenly this place is way to empty.
<<< >>>
Well you’re alone now. Yippee. Not. You wonder what on earth to do with yourself. You tuck your phone in one of the many pockets available and pad back to the entertainment room. After turning off the electronics you scoop up the bottles and the bowl of popcorn and munch as you walk to the galley. Dean really does make ‘awesome’ popcorn. You aren’t sure what kind of seasoning he put on it but it’s delicious. At least now you can appreciate it since the Winchester’s aren’t overtaking ever brain cell you have. The popcorn meets a quick end and you clean up the dishes; and then you just putter around aimlessly. It’s getting late and now that you’re alone, fatigue is beginning to set in. A lot happened today and you are more emotionally exhausted than physically, which burns a person out quick.
It doesn’t take long till you find your room and strip down to just Dean’s t-shirt. You brush the popcorn out of your teeth and fuss around for a couple of minutes, making sure to plug your cell phone into the charger that one of the brothers was kind enough to provide. So now you have their numbers. You really want to text one of them, just to make sure it works and to see if they will respond. It’s silly, but you can’t let the thought go. You scroll till you find Sam’s name and then shoot him a quick message. Nice and platonic ~where is the laundry room?~ You figure he should respond pretty quickly because you bet Dean is driving and Sam is occupying the seat you sat in earlier today. Sure enough your phone gives off a familiar jingle and it’s Sam. It’s all business, giving you directions from your room to the laundry. You are content with that. Question answered, test passed. You set your phone down and just as you crawl into bed it jingles again. Sam’s name is sprawled across your lock screen. You figure he must have forgotten something so you open up the text. ~All your clothes are in the dryer, which means you haven’t been wearing much of anything tonight. Wish I were there right now.~
You suck in a breath as your body heats up. Good lord that was hot and totally unexpected. You aren’t sure how to respond to that other than to say, ~I wish you were here too.~ It’s kinda lame but it’s the truth. The phone jingles again and you read Sam’s message ~be back before you know it. Goodnight and sweet dreams.~ Sweet dreams indeed, no thanks to him. Now your mind is a mess of emotions. You had managed to calm that stupid, treacherous, pool of desire deep inside but now it’s churning again. You lay your phone so it won’t ring, turn off the light and snuggle into the pillow that smells of Sam.
<<< >>>
The three of you sit in the galley, the mood light and jovial. Dinner is reheated Bigerson’s with pie for dessert. It’s not half bad but you find yourself hoping that one or both of the boys will cook again soon, and you tell them as much. They both beam with pride at the praise. Your ‘therapy’ session with Dean did a world of good and your ‘chat’ with Sam had an equal effect because you all end up joking around and teasing each other through dinner. Dean gets a bit handsy when the opportunity presents itself, apparently feeling very familiar with you now and not giving a single fuck what Sam thinks. Sam shows absolutely no reaction to Dean’s roaming hands, which is a little surprising, but you aren’t sure how to read him right now. He made it very clear that there would be a ‘later’ and you aren’t exactly sure what that means but the anticipation is agonizing and delicious. Regardless, Sam never cracks; his attitude and demeanor never betraying his desires and his salacious plan, at least never when Dean is looking. It’s provocative and so damn seductive to see Sam’s self control; you can’t help but admire him whenever you can but when Dean isn’t looking things get even more interesting. Dean heads to the fridge for another beer. Suddenly Sam shifts into this intense force of lust, his eyes fucking you from across the table as he leans forward and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. The suddenness is like a blow to your gut, powerful and breathtaking and you struggle to contain your emotions as Dean closes the fridge and heads back to the table. By then Sam has shifted back into jolly-lighthearted-Sam, leaning back and taking another bite of dinner, leaving you a hot wreck. His execution is flawless and any time Dean is distracted Sam’s eyes capture yours, vivid and consuming, reminding you of his promise.
Dean leaves the two of you to clean up the dishes, proclaiming it’s his night to pick the movie and he’s going on the hunt for something fun. Your mind has been spinning, reveling in the forward possession that Dean has over you followed by the private and intense power that Sam keeps hidden for only you. Its one hell of a ride all around and your body is humming with pleasure at all the attention.
Your conversation with Sam is fun; a continuation from dinner and the dishes are a quick chore made quicker by good company. You’re rinsing off the last plate to put in the drainer as Sam dries his hands on the towel and you don’t notice his shift in demeanor. Without warning Sam’s lips are against yours, stealing your breath away and setting your body alight with need as you stand there, hands slightly raised to each side as water runs down your arms and drips to the floor. Sam closes the space, his hand on your back pressing you in closer, as his tongue drifts between your lips. His height makes it feel like he’s on top of you, encompassing you, and you melt into him, a quiet moan escaping between licks of his tongue. Just as you fully realize the splendor of the moment, it’s over, because Sam suddenly pulls away and steps back. There is a wicked, wrecked smile on his face as he smoothes his hair and steadies his breathing. Holy shit he is so cruel and so damn hot. The veins in his arms are bulging from the strain it’s taking to keep him from coming back in for more and you notice that his body is shaking ever so slightly. Sam Winchester has never looked sexier, standing there with his jaw clenched tight, controlling himself with sheer willpower. You’re pretty sure all you’d have to do is touch him and his control would snap. You could, but then the game would be over and Dean would have to watch his movie alone because you and Sam would be too busy fucking hard and passionate on the kitchen table, but where is the fun in that? You surprise yourself with that thought and then realize that while it would be hella awesome to fuck on the table, this game is shaping up to be even more fun and satisfying, so you want to play too. Your very own naughty little smile appears as you lock eyes with Sam. You dry off on the nearby towel and slowly walk out of the room. Two can play at this fun game.
<<< >>>
Spaceballs. Always good for a chuckle, which is more or less the argument Dean gives. “Come on. It’s Star Wars, just a helluva lot funnier.” His radiant smile is easily enough to convince you to be on board, besides, Mel Brooks is awesome. Sam seems like he wants to protest but then thinks better of it when you appear to be ok with the selection. The three of you are standing in a room you’ve never seen before; the boys apparently retooled it as a bit of an entertainment room somewhere along the way. There’s a mini-fridge full of beer, a worn out couch with a half decent flat screen tv on the wall opposite it, and a couple of semi-decent chairs sitting at a little round table in the corner near the door. “Why don’t you go pop us some popcorn Sammy?” Dean tosses the words over his shoulder as he stoops to put in the movie.
“Nope. You know the rules man. You pick, you pop.” Sam’s arms are folded across his chest with a look of no-negotiation-allowed. Dean glances at him, frowns, and then sighs.
“Damn it”, Dean is barely audible but it’s still heard by everyone in the room. “Ok. Fine. But that means no whining when I make it the awesome way.” Sam shrugs at the finger Dean points at him, a sign of submission and no whining. Dean perks up at his own thought of making ‘awesome’ popcorn and he heads out the door towards the kitchen.
Before Dean is even out of earshot Sam is on you. “Now you’re mine.” Almost a purr from Sam’s lips as he lifts you from where you were perched on the arm of the couch, pulling you into him, like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. Your mouth is the source of his oxygen and he devours you with savage kisses. He doesn’t hurt you. He is raging yet soft, intense yet gentle. He’s still holding back. You feel it. It’s like he wants to gorge, to consume all of you, leaving nothing untouched or unsatisfied. You try to match his hunger but fall short because he is fierce, leaving you breathless and overpowered, body quivering in his embrace. His tongue is commanding and his hands are firm and confident as they roam over your clothes, gripping your ass, your breasts, your hips, sliding up between your legs to tease your sex. It’s splendid torture. Sam’s powerful hands sending waves of pleasure in their wake. The world melts away and there is only Sam, blazing bright with lust. His hunger is voracious and you cling to him as he rages into you. For a full second you worry about Dean walking in but the unyielding force of Sam burns that away and you don’t care if you get caught because you don’t want this to stop, ever.
But it does stop and you feel so desolate and cold when Sam pries himself from you. His breathing is ragged and his body is shaking. He straightens his spine and takes a moment to steady himself, running his hand down his face and through his hair as he begins to calm himself, all while never taking his eyes off you. He looks wrecked and sexy and you want him so badly but your legs are pudding and all you can manage to do is lean back against the arm of the couch. Sam clears his throat, shakes his arms like he’s shaking off a muscle burn from lifting, and then peels his eyes from you so he can raid the mini-fridge, trying to act like that moment never happened.
Sam comes up with three bottles and he sets them on the little table in front of the couch. He’s back to his placid poker face self as he gently guides you to the middle of the couch, helping you sit down like you’re an invalid, and to be honest you sorta feel like one right now. You feel Sam’s controlled tension when he touches you and it’s electric, merely adding to your disjointed state. Dean walks in the door as Sam takes a seat to your right while handing you a beer. Dean grins big when he sees that he gets to sit next to you, “Thanks for waiting. I’ve seen this a hundred times but I hate it when I miss shit, you know?” Dean plops down on the couch to your left as Sam pops the top off a beer for him. You blush when you think of what he just missed.
<<< >>>
There you are, sitting between two monumental distractions, each one touching you and causing that pool of lust in your stomach to pitch and churn. Dean has his hand firmly planted on your thigh, his thumb rubbing mindlessly on the fabric of your borrowed cargo pants. Tingles of yearning run straight up your leg to your sweet spot, driving you to distraction. He only moves his hand to grab popcorn from the bowl that’s balanced in your lap and then it goes right back on your leg again. Sam is no less of a distraction even though his hand rests at a gentlemanly distance from you. His leg is pressed firmly against yours from hip to floor, electric tingles along every inch that’s touching, and even his foot is pressed to yours because he knows Dean won’t look.
Thank God you’ve seen this movie before because you aren’t watching. You vaguely comprehend what is happening on screen as you stare straight ahead or find yourself locking eyes and grinning with each brother intermittently. You laugh when they laugh, pulling cues from their reactions, but your mind is a puddle of preoccupied carnal thoughts and it’s taking all your willpower to refrain from acting on your desires. You feel the same strain from each of them but apparently they are much better at denying themselves, because they both appear at ease despite that.
Somewhere around ‘ludicrous speed’ Dean’s cell phone goes off. He flips to all business in an instant as he launches off the couch. Your left side feels suddenly cold and abandoned as Dean answers with a “Talk to me,” before he’s even made it into the hallway. You look to Sam, your face asking the question of what’s going on, instead of saying it out loud.
“Not sure. Could be nothing.” Sam answers quietly as he follows Dean with his eyes. You hear a note of something in his voice. Apprehension? Maybe fear? You aren’t sure which. Part of you is focused on what the call could mean and the other part is aching to take advantage of this little opportunity. You look at Sam and he is completely preoccupied, trying in vain to listen in on the phone call, much to your disappointment, so you refrain from acting. After a minute or two of silence between you and Sam, Dean comes striding back into the room with a, “Thanks Cas. Got it.”
“Cas?” Sam stands up, going on full alert. “He’s got something?” You stand up too, hugging the popcorn bowl as you listen.
“Yeah, he thinks so. We gotta roll out now or we’ll miss our chance. Cas thinks it’s a groupa demons with some scary secret plan.” Dean’s sarcastic tone and the sigh threaded throughout that last part makes him sound annoyed, like he’s tired of bad guys always trying to do bad things. “They’re tucked up in a little clubhouse, couple hours’ drive from here; we can be there before sun up.” Dean plunges his hand into the bowl you’re holding, shoves a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth, and then starts heading back towards the hallway.
“Wait. Dean.” Sam’s plea is insistent. Dean goes full stop and stares at Sammy, chewing and waiting. “I should stay here. We can’t leave her here unprotected.” Sam’s words appear almost desperate, like he really doesn’t want to go. You know why he wants to stay and you find yourself hoping beyond hope that Dean can fly solo; but you remain silent, merely listening and shifting your eyes from one brother to the other as Yogurt shows off his flamethrower in the background.
“Really Sammy?” It’s Dean’s turn to wear a bitchface and it’s pretty glorious. “This is the safest place on the planet and she’s a big girl who can take care of herself.” Dean turns to you, “Right?” His expression indicating that you, indeed, are a grown up who can handle this and you better agree. You just stare at Dean. You don’t know how to answer. Sure you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean you want to be alone right now, or ever for that matter. Dean reads your non-response as fear; so he sighs and tucks his phone in his pocket while heading towards you. His excited hurry has melted away for the moment as he puts his hands on your shoulders and rubs his thumbs gently against your collarbone, his emerald eyes holding your attention. “Listen. I don’t want to leave you here high and dry. I really don’t. In fact I hate the idea, but I need backup. I need Sam. He’s the best damn hunter out there. Better than me, and I need him. We gotta do this, ok? This could be the answer we’ve been looking for. With any luck we’ll come back with the mystery solved and we can all have a Scooby snack.” Dean cups your cheek in one hand, making sure you keep eye contact. “Don’t worry, we won’t be gone long.” He gives you a genuinely reassuring smile as he runs his thumb along your cheekbone and you reply with a quiet ok. Dean’s smile broadens, “that’s my girl” and then he leans in and presses his lips against yours. He lingers for moment, revaluating the urgency of things, but the hunter in him wins out and Dean wills himself to stop. As he pulls away, he scrutinizes Sam who is watching and you can see the possessive glint in Dean’s eyes for a split second before he turns towards the door and belts out, “Come on Sammy, times a wastin’.” Your eyes follow Dean as he exits the room and then they slowly pan the room until they latch onto Sam.
Sam suddenly looks wrecked. All that cool self-control from before is melting because you know he wasn’t expecting this and neither were you. He didn’t think he’d have to wait much longer to have you and now… now. Who knows when he will get his next chance? His long legs bring him into your space quickly. He plucks the bowl of popcorn from your hands, setting it on the couch, his gaze never leaving you. Both of Sam’s hands thread up into your hair, holding you firmly as his mouth encompasses yours, his tongue pressing in hot and desperate. You stand there receiving, pliant in his grip. The promise he pours into that kiss is overwhelming, leaving you stunned. It says that he will be back and he will have you. Sam releases your lips, rests his forehead against yours and softly asks, “Where’s your cell phone?”
It takes you a minute before you realize he asked a question and you have to swim through a thick haze of desire to find your way back to some sort of reality. When you don’t answer, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kisses your lips one more time, and then steps back while asking again, “Where’s your cell phone?” You feel so empty without his touch and are embarrassed to say you practically whimper a reply, telling him it’s in your room. “Come with me.” He takes your hand, electric tingles again, and he guides you out of the room and down the hallway as the tv continues to play. -It’s Mega Maid, she’s gone from suck to blow.
You walk at a hurried pace down the hallway, hand still clutched in Sam’s as you try to keep up with his long stride. When you get to your room he swipes the cell phone from the bedside table and then pauses, “May I?” You give him a wary yes, wondering what he’s doing. He pushes some buttons, then a couple more buttons. “There. We have your number now, and you have both Dean’s number and mine.” He hands you the phone, “If you need anything.” He closes the space between you, “And I mean anything” His fingers cup your chin as he forces you to meet his gaze once more, “Don’t hesitate to call or text either one of us, ok? Ok?” He searches your face for agreement and you give it to him. He relaxes just a little and then he swoops in for another deep drought from your lips.
“Sammy? What’s keepin’ ya?” Dean’s voice echoes through the corridors forcing Sam to tear himself away from you once more, leaving you wanting. He steps back, giving you a strained smile of regret mixed in with the most adorable set of puppydog eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s like he wants to play but has been scolded and can’t. Then he turns the corner and you hear his pace quicken to a run as he heads towards Dean’s bellowing voice.
You head towards the main entrance with your cell phone clutched in your hand, still warm from Sam’s hand, and you hear the outside door to the bunker slam shut and the giant wheel twists until it latches. It echoes throughout the silent halls with finality like a tomb. Suddenly this place is way to empty.
<<< >>>
Well you’re alone now. Yippee. Not. You wonder what on earth to do with yourself. You tuck your phone in one of the many pockets available and pad back to the entertainment room. After turning off the electronics you scoop up the bottles and the bowl of popcorn and munch as you walk to the galley. Dean really does make ‘awesome’ popcorn. You aren’t sure what kind of seasoning he put on it but it’s delicious. At least now you can appreciate it since the Winchester’s aren’t overtaking ever brain cell you have. The popcorn meets a quick end and you clean up the dishes; and then you just putter around aimlessly. It’s getting late and now that you’re alone, fatigue is beginning to set in. A lot happened today and you are more emotionally exhausted than physically, which burns a person out quick.
It doesn’t take long till you find your room and strip down to just Dean’s t-shirt. You brush the popcorn out of your teeth and fuss around for a couple of minutes, making sure to plug your cell phone into the charger that one of the brothers was kind enough to provide. So now you have their numbers. You really want to text one of them, just to make sure it works and to see if they will respond. It’s silly, but you can’t let the thought go. You scroll till you find Sam’s name and then shoot him a quick message. Nice and platonic ~where is the laundry room?~ You figure he should respond pretty quickly because you bet Dean is driving and Sam is occupying the seat you sat in earlier today. Sure enough your phone gives off a familiar jingle and it’s Sam. It’s all business, giving you directions from your room to the laundry. You are content with that. Question answered, test passed. You set your phone down and just as you crawl into bed it jingles again. Sam’s name is sprawled across your lock screen. You figure he must have forgotten something so you open up the text. ~All your clothes are in the dryer, which means you haven’t been wearing much of anything tonight. Wish I were there right now.~
You suck in a breath as your body heats up. Good lord that was hot and totally unexpected. You aren’t sure how to respond to that other than to say, ~I wish you were here too.~ It’s kinda lame but it’s the truth. The phone jingles again and you read Sam’s message ~be back before you know it. Goodnight and sweet dreams.~ Sweet dreams indeed, no thanks to him. Now your mind is a mess of emotions. You had managed to calm that stupid, treacherous, pool of desire deep inside but now it’s churning again. You lay your phone so it won’t ring, turn off the light and snuggle into the pillow that smells of Sam.