After Blood [Episode Coda for 12.09]
Title: After Blood
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1240
Summary: Sam and Dean take comfort in each other.
A/N: Episode Coda for 12.09 First Blood with a Wincest slant. Set immediately after episode 12.09[Spoiler (click to open)]/Before Mary's meeting. With definite episode/season SPOILERS ahead. Written for my darling big_heart_june ♥♥
And now with a very, very beautiful banner so lovingly made by one miss milly_gal!! UGH!! BB!! Thank you so fucking much!! I LOVE IT!! MWA!! ♥♥♥♥
When Dean had struck up the deal with Billie he’d already made peace with the idea of sacrificing himself. But he knew that if either of them was going to make it out alive, they needed each other to make the escape. It couldn’t be done alone. And there was no way in hell he was going to let Sam die. Of course he also knew that Sam -the stubborn jackass- would probably be thinking the exact same thing about Dean. Dean didn’t care. He was oldest. And it was his idea. His plan. He’d be the one fulfilling the contract.
He wasn’t going to let Sam argue with him.
When they found them. Castiel and their mom. Dean had been glad. He got to hug his mom one last time. And he held her hard. Kissed the side of her head. At least Sam would have her. They could take care of each other. They’d be fine without him. He almost choked on the swell of emotion, but he forced himself to hold it all in. Hold onto the charade for just a little bit longer. No point getting everyone upset before they had to be.
He still didn’t give a fuck about the British Men of Letters agenda. His one regret in that moment was not having killed the bitch who hurt his brother.
Several other regrets hit him after Sam beckoned for them to leave. Sam was holding on too. Brave face unwavering in the face of their adversaries. It was just the boost to their resolve they’d both needed. Still didn’t mean they would thank them.
Dean had given a short squeeze to Sam’s shoulder as he slid into the seat behind him. He felt the burst of tension beneath his hand, Sam had shrugged it off, relaxing back into the chair and Dean took his hand back before Castiel had a chance to notice. And their mom had stepped on it.
But when Billie had asked the question, when Dean had looked at Sam for what could have been the last time? He didn’t want to leave him, but he knew there was no way he could lose him either.
What he hadn’t expected was for their mom to step forward, which in retrospect was stupid. He couldn’t watch her die again either. Winchester or not. This was on him. It was his deal. He was the one who was supposed to die.
Don’t.
Castiel had saved them. Again. Cosmic consequences be damned apparently. Though technically neither Sam nor Dean had broken the pact. And Dean wasn’t entirely sure what happened when the holder of the pact was killed before it was completed. Did it die with them? Or would the cosmos hold a grudge? Bite them in the ass like it always did?
Dean was currently too tired to give a fuck. They were alive. All three Winchesters. And for the moment they were free.
Mary drove them back to the bunker.
The first thing Sam and Dean had wanted to do was to take a shower. They had been beyond ripe. And Dean would be forever thankful that there was more than one bathroom in their home. Fuck. The water felt so fucking good on his skin. And he just stood, head downturned under the spray, hands pressed against the tile, and his shoulders shook as the weight of it all crashed through his entire system.
Once he was dried and fully dressed, he hadn’t been planning on staying up, but he’d just felt the overwhelming need to put on his jeans. And it appeared Sam had had the same urge. They’d both huffed a laugh as they stood in the doorway to the kitchen. There wasn’t actually anything that would still be edible left in there. Castiel had said he would go get them some food and they’d let him. They’d told their mom she should just go to bed. She didn’t need to wait up on them.
“So-” Sam started, but then they were wrapping their arms around each other, chests thumping together, “Dean-”
“Shhh,” Dean whispered as he rubbed Sam’s back, his fingers of his other hand slipping up into Sam’s hair, “It’s okay.”
Dean wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that. Just holding each other. But however long it was. It wasn’t enough.
“Can we-” Sam breathed softly as they began to pull apart.
And Dean had nodded right away, knowing immediately what his brother was asking, “Come on,” he said just as softly, and he took Sam’s hand. Glad when Sam didn’t object to being led to Dean’s room. Dean’s bed was way comfier.
Dean locked the door behind them and they stripped down to their boxer-briefs and t-shirts. Dean laid down onto his back, and Sam settled himself down on top of him, nose buried in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean caressed Sam’s back gently, eyes falling shut, ready for sleep. But it seemed Sam had other plans. His own dick taking interest as Sam pressed down more heavily, more persistently, into Dean. And Dean opened his eyes as Sam sat up, straddling Dean’s thighs.
“Sam. I’m tired. Too tired,” Dean’s hands settling on the curve of Sam’s ass despite himself, “And it’s been almost two months. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He didn’t think he could stay awake long enough for prep.
“Okay,” Sam said as he fiddled with the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt, and he let his legs slide back, pulling his underwear down as he let his top half drop down, he slid one hand between them, and Dean shimmied a little to get his own out of the way, Sam getting them aligned, “How about this?”
Dean let out a grunt that turned into a moan as Sam rolled his hips forward, their cocks sliding together, “Fuck.”
Sam’s hand closes around them both, thumb teasing across Dean’s slit making Dean gasp, stroking them through a few thrusts to get them slick with their mingled precome. Dean gives a blunt bite to Sam’s chin to get him to tilt his head down into a kiss.
Slides his fingers down Sam’s spine as they writhe together, and Sam twitches, stifling a giggle when they disturb the fine golden hairs at the dip of his back, where sweat had begun to pool. And down along his crack, and back up and sliding in between the cheeks, fingertips teasing across Sam’s hole.
“Fuck, Dean.”
Sam came first, and he bit down on Dean’s shoulder to muffle his moans, and Dean followed a couple of thrusts later, “Sammy,” let out on a breath as they clung to each other. Dean’s nose rubbing against Sam’s temple. Dean would have been content to sleep just like that.
But he knew Sam couldn’t. He didn’t like to leave his back exposed to the air. Especially not after they had been separated for so long. It didn’t happen as often as it used to, but every now and then something would trigger Sam, make him call reality into question. And whether he was somehow still in the cage. Dean was the only thing that could tether him. Bring him back. So, when Sam rolled off onto his side, when the afterglow started to wear off, Dean got right in behind him, “It’s just you and me. He’s gone, Sammy.”
And Dean kissed the top of Sam’s shoulder as Sam squeezed his hand.
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1240
Summary: Sam and Dean take comfort in each other.
A/N: Episode Coda for 12.09 First Blood with a Wincest slant. Set immediately after episode 12.09[Spoiler (click to open)]/Before Mary's meeting. With definite episode/season SPOILERS ahead. Written for my darling big_heart_june ♥♥
And now with a very, very beautiful banner so lovingly made by one miss milly_gal!! UGH!! BB!! Thank you so fucking much!! I LOVE IT!! MWA!! ♥♥♥♥
When Dean had struck up the deal with Billie he’d already made peace with the idea of sacrificing himself. But he knew that if either of them was going to make it out alive, they needed each other to make the escape. It couldn’t be done alone. And there was no way in hell he was going to let Sam die. Of course he also knew that Sam -the stubborn jackass- would probably be thinking the exact same thing about Dean. Dean didn’t care. He was oldest. And it was his idea. His plan. He’d be the one fulfilling the contract.
He wasn’t going to let Sam argue with him.
When they found them. Castiel and their mom. Dean had been glad. He got to hug his mom one last time. And he held her hard. Kissed the side of her head. At least Sam would have her. They could take care of each other. They’d be fine without him. He almost choked on the swell of emotion, but he forced himself to hold it all in. Hold onto the charade for just a little bit longer. No point getting everyone upset before they had to be.
He still didn’t give a fuck about the British Men of Letters agenda. His one regret in that moment was not having killed the bitch who hurt his brother.
Several other regrets hit him after Sam beckoned for them to leave. Sam was holding on too. Brave face unwavering in the face of their adversaries. It was just the boost to their resolve they’d both needed. Still didn’t mean they would thank them.
Dean had given a short squeeze to Sam’s shoulder as he slid into the seat behind him. He felt the burst of tension beneath his hand, Sam had shrugged it off, relaxing back into the chair and Dean took his hand back before Castiel had a chance to notice. And their mom had stepped on it.
But when Billie had asked the question, when Dean had looked at Sam for what could have been the last time? He didn’t want to leave him, but he knew there was no way he could lose him either.
What he hadn’t expected was for their mom to step forward, which in retrospect was stupid. He couldn’t watch her die again either. Winchester or not. This was on him. It was his deal. He was the one who was supposed to die.
Don’t.
Castiel had saved them. Again. Cosmic consequences be damned apparently. Though technically neither Sam nor Dean had broken the pact. And Dean wasn’t entirely sure what happened when the holder of the pact was killed before it was completed. Did it die with them? Or would the cosmos hold a grudge? Bite them in the ass like it always did?
Dean was currently too tired to give a fuck. They were alive. All three Winchesters. And for the moment they were free.
Mary drove them back to the bunker.
The first thing Sam and Dean had wanted to do was to take a shower. They had been beyond ripe. And Dean would be forever thankful that there was more than one bathroom in their home. Fuck. The water felt so fucking good on his skin. And he just stood, head downturned under the spray, hands pressed against the tile, and his shoulders shook as the weight of it all crashed through his entire system.
Once he was dried and fully dressed, he hadn’t been planning on staying up, but he’d just felt the overwhelming need to put on his jeans. And it appeared Sam had had the same urge. They’d both huffed a laugh as they stood in the doorway to the kitchen. There wasn’t actually anything that would still be edible left in there. Castiel had said he would go get them some food and they’d let him. They’d told their mom she should just go to bed. She didn’t need to wait up on them.
“So-” Sam started, but then they were wrapping their arms around each other, chests thumping together, “Dean-”
“Shhh,” Dean whispered as he rubbed Sam’s back, his fingers of his other hand slipping up into Sam’s hair, “It’s okay.”
Dean wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that. Just holding each other. But however long it was. It wasn’t enough.
“Can we-” Sam breathed softly as they began to pull apart.
And Dean had nodded right away, knowing immediately what his brother was asking, “Come on,” he said just as softly, and he took Sam’s hand. Glad when Sam didn’t object to being led to Dean’s room. Dean’s bed was way comfier.
Dean locked the door behind them and they stripped down to their boxer-briefs and t-shirts. Dean laid down onto his back, and Sam settled himself down on top of him, nose buried in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean caressed Sam’s back gently, eyes falling shut, ready for sleep. But it seemed Sam had other plans. His own dick taking interest as Sam pressed down more heavily, more persistently, into Dean. And Dean opened his eyes as Sam sat up, straddling Dean’s thighs.
“Sam. I’m tired. Too tired,” Dean’s hands settling on the curve of Sam’s ass despite himself, “And it’s been almost two months. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He didn’t think he could stay awake long enough for prep.
“Okay,” Sam said as he fiddled with the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt, and he let his legs slide back, pulling his underwear down as he let his top half drop down, he slid one hand between them, and Dean shimmied a little to get his own out of the way, Sam getting them aligned, “How about this?”
Dean let out a grunt that turned into a moan as Sam rolled his hips forward, their cocks sliding together, “Fuck.”
Sam’s hand closes around them both, thumb teasing across Dean’s slit making Dean gasp, stroking them through a few thrusts to get them slick with their mingled precome. Dean gives a blunt bite to Sam’s chin to get him to tilt his head down into a kiss.
Slides his fingers down Sam’s spine as they writhe together, and Sam twitches, stifling a giggle when they disturb the fine golden hairs at the dip of his back, where sweat had begun to pool. And down along his crack, and back up and sliding in between the cheeks, fingertips teasing across Sam’s hole.
“Fuck, Dean.”
Sam came first, and he bit down on Dean’s shoulder to muffle his moans, and Dean followed a couple of thrusts later, “Sammy,” let out on a breath as they clung to each other. Dean’s nose rubbing against Sam’s temple. Dean would have been content to sleep just like that.
But he knew Sam couldn’t. He didn’t like to leave his back exposed to the air. Especially not after they had been separated for so long. It didn’t happen as often as it used to, but every now and then something would trigger Sam, make him call reality into question. And whether he was somehow still in the cage. Dean was the only thing that could tether him. Bring him back. So, when Sam rolled off onto his side, when the afterglow started to wear off, Dean got right in behind him, “It’s just you and me. He’s gone, Sammy.”
And Dean kissed the top of Sam’s shoulder as Sam squeezed his hand.