Spring Fic Exchange: Untying the Knot, part 2

[theymp]

Title: Untying the Knot, part 2
Warnings/Spoilers (if applicable): Dean/Sam, oppressive patriarchy / ABO
Rating: NC-17

Back to part 1

The delivery driver pulled up, stepped down from the cab and looked around the secluded back alley with a shifty, narrow-eyed gaze. "Where's your usual guy? The big alpha?"

Dean frowned at the tone. "He'll be along soon," he lied, resisting the urge to cross and uncross his arms. He wondered fleetingly why he'd stopped carrying a knife.

The guy's nose twitched and he raised an eyebrow at whatever he detected.  The smirk that took hold on his face wasn't pleasant. Dean had seen that same look as a prequel to many a bar fight, and he started cataloging his exits.

"You sure you can manage? The barrels are heavy; don't want someone in your condition hurting themselves." The driver hawked and spat and completed the trifecta of grossness by adjusting himself.

"I'll manage just fine," Dean answered, as he started to shift his stance to be ready for attack.

Catching him by surprise, the driver slapped him on the ass, his hand lingering in a rough caress. It hadn't been the type of attack Dean had been expecting, but in retrospect he wondered if perhaps he should have. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to get handsy with him here when Sam wasn't around.

"I bet you can, sweet cheeks. But a fine omega bitch like you, he should take better care."

The man laughed at Dean's outraged expression. "Ah, you're one of those omega-rights types - you just need a proper seeing to. I'm not surprised; your man's obviously not a real alpha if he just lets you wander out and about."

Dean had had enough. He wasn't sure why he'd even taken as much crap as he had. "I'll knock you 'out and about' if you don't get your goddamn hand off my ass," he snarled.

"Make me," the guy growled, his lips pulled back in a feral smile as he tightened his grip on Dean. He seemed possessed.

Holy shit, that dude is strong.

He was big too, almost as tall as Sam and probably a little wider, even given all the recent bulking up. Dean had always been one for 'swing first and worry about it later,' but he was beginning to fear that the later was about to become now. He'd run into far too many similarly iffy situations growing up, and this was quickly looking like it wasn't going to end well for him.

As if in answer to his prayers, the back door to the bar crashed open and with an echoing roar, Sam emerged like a force of nature, his fists flying. He grabbed the driver and flung him away from Dean, sending the man rolling down the alley.

Sam bellowed something after him, but it was too primal to be intelligible.

The man, by now back on his feet, cowed and held his hands up in appeasement. "Okay, okay," he gabled, "but if you're not going to take care of what's yours, then what do you expect?"

Sam sent the guy scurrying off with another deep, animalistic roar.

The next moment Dean was enveloped in a tight bear hug. They weren't very touchy-feely at the best of times, but for once he just let himself go with the flow. I could get used to this. He felt swept away in a powerful emotion of comfort and protection. Physically he could feel a pool of warm contentment build up in his abdomen and he abandoned himself to the desire to pull Sam even tighter into him.

"How did you know?" he muttered, grateful beyond words.

Sam shook his head. "Somehow I just knew."

He didn't know how long they stood like that, but in the end he had to gently push Sam away in embarrassment as he realized how horny it was making him. Which, given what nearly just happened to me here, is one seriously messed up reaction. Maybe he was still shaky from the adrenaline rush, but his body was buzzing like a damn livewire. Plus, he wasn't sure what was happening, but it all seemed suddenly very damp down there. Yep, I'm officially as messed up as this world is.

~#~

"I'm just saying that we should think about it," argued Dean, pushing passed Sam into their apartment.

Sam sighed and massaged his forehead. He was hot, tired, and apparently now had the makings of a killer headache. He'd been having such a good day too, not to mention the satisfaction of fending off a challenger made him feel powerful, fulfilled even. He had no idea what he could have said or done to incur Dean's irrational wrath.

"But we just got here," Sam answered, as if to a child. "This is our chance for something better and, even better, there's no guilt about retiring from hunting... because there are no monsters!"

"Oh, there are, they're just parading as people," Dean seethed. "I should have known you wouldn't see it."

"What does that even mean?" groaned Sam, "You're not making any sense."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Sam felt panicked. If he breaks the spell we could end up back in the chimera's lair... miles from anywhere and Dean on the brink of death again.

"Why won't you talk about it? You're the one that brought it up!"

"I'm going to bed, just leave me alone."

"I live here too, you know," huffed Sam, irritable and ready to lash out either verbally or physically. "If you're so keen to be on your own, why don't you just go stay in a hotel or something?"

"Actually, that's a great idea," Dean said, standing up in a sudden movement. "Thanks a lot," he added sarcastically.

"No," cried Sam, jumping up and grabbing Dean by the arm, already regretting his words. "Hey, I'm sorry," he continued as he took a firmer hold of both of Dean's arms to stop him from leaving. "I'm sorry," he repeated, as much for his earlier words as for the restraining grip that he immediately dropped. He let out a cautious breath as Dean stopped and turned to face him.

"I just can't stand to see you upset," admitted Sam. "I care about you, okay?" He slapped Dean's side in a desperately platonic attempt to seem friendly and non-threatening.

Who am I fooling? he asked himself despairingly.

"I love you," he corrected in a lower voice, catching Dean's gaze and staring deep into his eyes. This time ensuring there was no mistake as to his intentions.

Their eyes remained locked on each other, Sam desperately searching for some sign while a mix of expressions passed across Dean's features: confusion, fear, hope.

Heart pounding, Sam reached out and gently cradled Dean's face in both hands. His thumb traced a light, sensuous journey over Dean's plump lower lip and across the pleasant rasp of his stubbled cheek, down to the soft flesh of his neck, while the other hand gently guided Dean's head closer and closer. Dean stood stock still never moving to aid this progress, but neither resisting, just passively allowing himself to be controlled.

They moved closer, it seemed inexorably closer. Blood was roaring in his ears, his body aflame with the fierce fire of passion. Yet still they stood, not moving. Locked in orbit of each other.

Finally, Sam could bear it no longer; it was as if the universe released a long-held breath in relief as he took what he wanted, what he could only hope was being silently offered. His hand once more cupping the nape of Dean's neck, he locked lips with him, all the restraint from before was released in a kiss that was near-bruising in its intensity.

Hope wasn't enough. He needed to be sure. Fighting himself to remain in some semblance of control, Sam stopped. He leaned back, studying Dean's face for some sign that his feelings were reciprocated.

Without a word, Dean surged forward and the resulting kiss was even more impassioned, more desperate than before, their hands roving over each other's bodies, pulling each other in tight. They clung to each other, even while fumbling to loosen each other's clothes. Dean guided them backward towards the bedroom. Sam paused for a hairsbreadth of a moment with a hopeful expression until Dean nodded with a grin and pulled him along more urgently.

Dean let out a joyful laugh as he collapsed back on the bed and tugged Sam down on top of him.

Sam pulled off Dean's shirt, running his hand over the exposed flesh. "So beautiful," he muttered worshipfully with a trail of light kisses up Dean's chest, before capturing another longer, deeper kiss.

"I need to get these pants off," complained Dean, fumbling with Sam's belt until with a small cry of frustration he flipped Sam over to swap their positions on the bed.

"So bossy," Sam snorted, wriggling out of his own shirt as he lay back on the bed. He stretched out, flexing his chest and arms, pleased by the encouraging effect it had on Dean. He kicked off his shoes and allowed Dean to rid them both of their jeans.

He noticed with amusement the way Dean's hand shook and nervously avoided Sam's groin, even as the contents of Sam's boxer briefs tented out in an impressively large bulge that strained at the hold of the fabric.

Dean licked his red, cupid bow lips with an anticipation that stripped Sam bare to the bone.

"It's okay," Sam growled. "I'll take care of you," he declared as, with a strong hand, he guided Dean's head and hungry mouth down.

"Whoa, hold on a minute. Something... doesn't look right," stammered Dean, forcing a reluctant halt to the proceedings. "I mean, I've seen you enough times in the shower-"

"Oh yeah? You always liked what you see, huh? Checking me out?"

Dean blushed which stretched from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest. He looked down coyly, but then back up with a direct gaze. "Yes," he admitted, relaxing the intense gaze slightly but not before his eye roamed over Sam's body, taking it all in. "I mean, you were always packing down there and I was perhaps a little bit jealous."

Sam preened. "You're not so bad yourself." He bit his lip before admitting, "I also watched you in the shower." He made sure the heat behind the meaning of the words couldn't be missed.

Dean ducked his head in a combination of pleasure and embarrassment. "Yeah, but it's like you've had a growth spurt."

"It's this place," agreed Sam. "I think it's changing us."

For the better? was the unspoken question hanging over them.

"I know," Dean breathed in relief. "You too? I thought I was going mad. I can't stop thinking about you... on me." He swallowed with an audible gulp. "In me." He took a deep breath and said the next words without pausing. "Half the time, I can't even think straight."

Sam sniggered at the double meaning only to turn serious again, "But it's okay, yeah?"

"I've never been happier," Dean smirked. "You could try and see if you could make me happier."

Sam nodded, following along. "Enough talk," he ordered, his voice turning rough and deep.

Dean's body shuddered, and his eyes widened. "You can't tell me what to do, I'm not your bitch," he declared, the former smirk very much back.

They both recognized it for the lie it was.

Dean scooted further back on the bed, losing the remainder of his clothes, and eased back so that he was laid out like a gift for Sam. His eyes hooded as he directed his gaze along his own body back to Sam.

"You can't tell me what to do," he repeated, this time his voice dripping with both great daring and purpose.

Sam paused too long. Dean's lip curled, and he leaned forward to make his point.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered as if giving stage direction, his eyes flashing with just a hint of the heat buried within.

So Sam did. "Lie back down," he barked. He stood and pulled off his boxer briefs with one swift motion, gasping with the pleasure of relief as his cock swung up from its imprisonment within the restraining material. It bobbed in the air between them, each time rising a little higher.

As he towered over Dean, spread out on the bed beneath him, he could honestly say that he'd never felt so powerful and yet so vulnerable in the same moment. He could hear his blood singing in his ears, feel it pounding through his heart and rushing through his veins, his cock pulsing with it. He felt almost sick with an overwhelming lust, and his hands shook as it was all he could do not to just pounce.

Dean deserved better, he deserved better.

Sinking to kneel on the edge of the bed, he slowly crawled up on all fours, covering every inch of Dean with his body, skin sliding against skin.

He captured Dean's wrists in his hands, forcing them back into position above Dean's head, sure he would otherwise go mad from the way Dean writhed beneath him. They locked gazes and so much was silently communicated in that moment: love, trust, desire.

The next moment Sam was flipped over onto his back with one smooth motion and Dean was grinning down at him. "Not to break the mood, but can we get down to the main event? I am seriously... ready."

Sam knew Dean. He knew his... husband. He recognized that flippant tone for what it really was; nervousness for consummating this new part of their relationship.

He wrapped his arms around Dean, cradling him to one side. "I've got you," he crooned, nuzzling behind Dean's ear as he guided himself into position. Slowly but surely he eased himself in, Dean whining in pleasure as he discovered the extent of the changes to his own body, until they were pressed firmly together. Sam started to thrust, Dean pushing back into him, and while it might lack finesse it was what both of them needed.

He'd never felt so hard, and he almost considered stopping at the unfamiliar extra growth he could feel taking place in his cock. His senses exploded into a white out of pleasure, and all he could do was cling tightly to Dean, who was reaching his own climax.

Finding himself unable to separate, he arranged himself and Dean more comfortably for an extended period of what he decided to name anatomically-enforced cuddling. "I think you're stuck with me," he half laughed-half gasped.

Dean pulled him into a deep passionate kiss. "Well, if you think I'm moving you've got another think coming." He sniggered at the last word.

"That was... intense," panted Sam. He felt like he'd died and been reborn.

"Why'd we wait so long to do this?" Dean mused. "So... you, er, wanna go again?"

~#~

"Thanks so much for having me over, sorry I'm a bit early," said Charlie as Sam let her into the apartment.

"Oh, it's fine, our pleasure, you've been such a good friend to us, and it's nice to get away from the bar for a bit," replied Sam. He broke into a wide grin. "Dean's just in the shower."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, what is it that you can't keep your hands off of each other these days, you pervs."

Her nose wrinkled, "It reeks in here - you're certainly not newlyweds, and you're not even in heat yet, you've got no excuse!" she teased.

Sam went pale as her words took root in his mind. "What?" he stammered. I knew I should have gotten around to doing more research about this place.

The door to the bedroom opened and Dean stepped through clad only in jeans, still rubbing his hair dry with a towel. "Hey, did you see where I put my nice shirt?" he called, stopping short on noticing Charlie's arrival given his state of semi-undress.

Charlies eyes widened in horror. "Oh my god, what happened to your nipples?" she screamed.

Sam found a twisted humor in the sight of Dean trying to cover up his chest with his towel, only to drop it as he stared down at himself in confusion.

"What's wrong with them?" Dean asked, poking at them. Sam couldn't help but lick his lips as he noticed how they stood pert and erect from the attention.

"You've only got two!" cried Charlie, covering her mouth.

"Well, how many were you expecting?"  laughed Dean.

"At least four, maybe as many as eight," replied Charlie in visible shock.

Sam exchanged a bewildered, worried look with Dean. "Charlie, I only have two nipples-"

"Well, of course you do, you're not an omega," she snapped with a disdainful glare. "Listen, do you mind if I talk to Dean alone?"

Behind her, Dean shrugged then gestured with his head in the direction of the other room before tapping one finger on his ear.

Sam nodded to Charlie, "Of course, I'll be in the other room if you need me." From the kitchen he found that his improved senses included better hearing as well as smell; he could hear Charlie sigh as clearly as if she was in the room with him.

"You lied to me." She sounded weary rather than cross. "If you'd been through a heat before then you'd have the evidence of the effect of the hormones to prove it."

"Ah," replied Dean cautiously.

"You have to be careful," warned Charlie, "in this current climate. Especially if your Alpha wants offspring."

"He'd never..." Dean started to argue.

Sam hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.

"But maybe someone else would," Charlie interrupted. "You've lived here for a while now and people are starting to talk."

Sam would have like to be the kind of person who didn't care what people thought, but if a childhood as an outsider had taught him one thing it was that deep down he really did care.

Charlie was still talking. "An omega running a business? It's a fun gimmick, but you know how traditional people get about this sort of thing. Not to mention that you're married and clearly not breeding! What about when you do eventually start to present?"

"Huh?" Dean sounded just as confused as Sam felt.

"Those illegal suppressants I supply you with each month?" Charlie hissed. "You know they'll only work for so long. If you use them too much..."

Sam paled. Enough of listening in, this sounded too important, and he was making an executive decision to put a stop to it.

Charlie gave him a tired look when he came back in, as if the fact that he'd obviously listened in to her private conversation was the least of his betrayal. "Except, he's not taking them, is he? It all makes sense now-"

She addressed the rest of her speech to Dean, but without looking at him. "From the way it reeks in here to how you, and everyone around you, seem to be losing their mind. You've gone cold turkey -- like I warned you not to -- so your body's been working overtime to make up the pheromones for all those missed heats." Her voice rose as it shook with anger. "And cover up, for goodness sakes, it's kinda grossing me out."

Dean looked stricken as he held up the towel against his chest. "Charlie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, this is all so strange and new to me."

Charlie slumped down in a chair as if the wind had been taken out of her sails. "No, I'm sorry," she said in a low voice filled with shame. "I didn't mean that, you're not gross. You just bring out the big sister in me, and I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt."

She shook her head and gratefully accepted Dean's peace offering of a beer. "Seriously, it's just that recently it feels like you two were both dropped on your heads, or born yesterday, or something."

Sam cleared his throat. "Ah, yeah. About that..."


~#~

Charlie sat with a stunned expression on her face, numbly accepting the extra beer she'd demanded before draining it in one long draught. "A world without alphas or omegas?" she marveled, wiping beer foam from her mouth with the back of one hand. "I kinda find that hard to believe. I mean, where do all the children come from?"

"Women," answered Sam, gesturing at Charlie as if her sex was an alien concept that needed to be explained to her.

"Uh, uh," she declared, shaking her head vigorously. "I'm not having anything banging up against my cervix, thank you very much. Come near me with that big ol' thing, and I'll cut it off, y'hear?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Sam, not doubting a word of it. He couldn't resist catching Dean's gaze with a twinkle in his eye. "Turns out you're not my type anyway."

Charlie frowned, not really hearing him, as she pondered over their story. "That still doesn't make sense to me. So what, everyone just has one child at a time? No litters? Wow, your world must just be so empty of people."

There was a long silence as everyone got lost in their own thoughts.

"So, what are you gonna do?" asked Charlie, at last.

Dean sent Sam a torn, despairing look. "I think we should consider getting back to our own world."

Sam couldn't answer. The longer the silence stretched out in front of him, the more the other two stared at him expectantly and the more his throat closed up.

Charlie stood. "Okay," she said awkwardly, "I think I'm going to leave you two guys to talk."

~#~

Sam watched in avid interest as Dean sauntered over to the refrigerator and leaned in to retrieve a couple more beers. Seriously, he has an ass to die for. He winced at the unfortunate word choices of his internal thought processes.

Dean placed one of the beers in front of Sam then, with his free hand, turned one of the kitchen chairs around and straddled it, leaning with both arms draped over the chair's back while he swigged from his beer bottle.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the blatant attempt at dominant body language that missed by a mile, but waited patiently for Dean to speak.

"This place is like an amazing sexual fantasy, but I'm just not sure I can live here twenty-four seven."

"Oh?" Sam said with a deep rumble, getting off on how such a simple word could send a wide-eyed shudder through Dean's body.

Dean's eyes sparkled, and Sam knew for certain the feeling was reciprocated.

"I mean, in the sack I'll gladly do whatever you tell me to do," smirked Dean, "but outside of your kinky ass? Nah, I don't need a bunch of old guys telling me what I can or can't do."

"Femme in the sheets, butch on the streets?" quoted Sam with a smile.

Dean made a production of looking mock-offended. "Well, even I wouldn't put it that crudely, but I guess that's the problem of the influence of this world on you. On us. We need to get away from this place!"

"Surely it's not all bad?" asked Sam with an unconvincing attempt at a leer.

"Really? After everything Charlie said? Look at how she and I are treated? Is this what you want?" asked Dean.

"Hell, no! I always considered myself to be respectful of women... and omegas, I guess," complained Sam.

"Said like a true incel," Dean snorted under his breath.

The slur touched a nerve, and Sam was caught unawares by the level of his anger that bubbled over into spite. "Really? How's it feel to be the oppressed minority for a change?"

"It sucks," complained Dean with feeling. He seemed to notice Sam's sudden discomfort. "What?" he demanded.

"I'm hard," admitted Sam. "Don't blame me, not when you're all het up and looking like that. I have needs!"

"Right, that's it, Mr. Feminist. We need to get the hell outta here, now," declared Dean.

Sam closed his eyes. "It's not that simple," he blurted. "When I made that wish... you were dying..."

It was like a weight had been lifted from him as the truth that he'd been carrying for months was now finally revealed. He opened his eyes to find them streaming with tears. Dean pulled him into a warm, solid embrace and held him tight. It felt good to just let go, to be comforted, and Sam allowed himself to lean further in.

"Y'know," Dean rumbled, rubbing Sam's back with one hand and petting his hair comfortingly with the other, "You're the best damn husband ever... in the whole world, even. But just because your shoulders are freakishly wide doesn't mean you have to carry the load all by yourself."

Recognizing the words from before, Sam snuffled and wiped at his eyes. "You knew, all this time," he accused. "I thought you were so out of it that you didn't remember. Why didn't you say something?"

Dean shrugged. "When you didn't bring it up, I assumed the spell had somehow wiped your memory. I didn't want to worry you!"

"What a fine pair we are," declared Sam with a dry laugh. From the depths of his pocket, he retrieved the magic pearl that he'd superstitiously taken to keeping close to him at all times. He stared deep within it as if it could divulge the secrets of the universe. "Do you think this was all some kind of cosmic lesson?"

"With our track record, anything's possible. But yeah, given that here we're husbands, I feel like the universe is trying to tell us we're meant to be an equal partnership. It feels right, yeah?" Dean waited to catch Sam's eye and his nod of agreement. "So if there's also something here that's a threat to that, then maybe this isn't the right place for us. Whatever awaits us, we'll get through it together."

Sam let out a shaky breath. "You know, you're pretty smart sometimes."

"I know," Dean grinned. "And you're pretty, what a great team we make."; He took the pearl from Sam and laid it on the floor.

"You don't have to always take care of me," he said as he took Sam's hands in his own.

Sam stamped down hard on the pearl.



THE END

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