Requiem For A Dream, Chapter 9
Sorry *cowers* it has been so long, real life got in the way *kicks real life*
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Sam doesn't know why he agreed to this.
This wasn't his life, riding shotgun whilst Dean hums along to the music, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as the scenery flashes past, the odd flash of colour other than green as they pass a road sign. But Dean had been getting shifty, getting uncomfortable, and Sam could see that, see it in the way he constantly shifted, snapped at Bobby, snapped at Sam. Of course apologising to Sam had been easier for Dean than apologising to Bobby. With Sam he could just push him against a wall, slip his thigh in between Sam's, lick up his throat and Sam would have forgiven anything. Bobby was trickier. Saying sorry for Dean, was hard. That was one of the major things that Sam had learnt over the last few torturous months spent holed up at Bobby's with Dean going slowly stir crazy.
That's why when Dean had suggested taking Sam out for a couple of days, just to get used to the idea of being brothers, maybe pick up an easy hunt on the way, Bobby eye's had practically lit up, even though he tried to get Dean to stay, saying it wasn't safe for Sam, he wasn't ready, but his eyes had betrayed him.
And Sam couldn't blame either of them really. Sam had never liked living in close quarters with any body. Anybody since Dean who he couldn't be close enough to recently. Every time Dean was out of the room Sam got jumpy, expecting him to wander off, the end of his deal was drawing dangerously close and none of them were any nearer to a solution. But if Dean kept throwing up barriers then they wouldn't be able to stop this, Dean would die, Dean would be ripped from his hands and Sam couldn't do anything to stop it.
He shivered slightly at the thought.
So back to the reason why his stomach was churning and Dean was humming Metallica. He was going on a hunt. With Dean. To kill something. When Dean had been explaining, Sam had had no idea what he was talking about, unfamiliar territory for Sam. But he had nodded, tried to listen to everything Dean had said. And smiled. That had seemed to placate Dean for a bit, because he had pulled Sam towards him, wriggled his hands into Sam's jeans and proceeded to whisper filthy things into his ear and made Sam come in so few strokes that normally he would have been embarrassed. But having your brother jerk you off in a seedy motel was something that Sam, strangely, wasn't embarrassed about. It felt like something that he been building for years, it felt right.
Sam ignores the still squirming feeling in his stomach as Dean pulls the car off the road and up a dirt track. But even though he feels nervous, sick to his stomach, he hasn't been happier for a long time. Sure he was happy with Louise and Jess. But they had soft curves, Dean has hard muscle. They had gentle voices which practically sang in Sam's ear, whispering sweet nothings, Dean's voice was low, with that slight accent that turned Sam's legs to jell-o, and a wicked vocabulary that made Sam want to come every time he heard it.
Dean's hand on his leg makes him jump.
“You ok.” He says, his hand still on Sam's knee, the finger curling slightly and Sam wants to say no, I'm not ok, I want you to turn this car around and just drive. But he nods once and swallows. Hard.
“Sure.” He replies, pleased that his voice doesn't betray his feelings.
“Sammy. I'll be 5 minutes, just need to check this place out for EMF. Possibly sulphur. Stay here.” Dean leans forward, his free hand raising up to curl around Sam's neck. Sam meets him halfway. And every time Dean kisses him it feels different. Its feel new somehow. Kissing his brother. His brother that he didn't know existed until a few months ago. 7 months, he thinks. 7 long months. 1 of dreaming of him, 1 searching for him and 5 spent at Bobby's searching for a way out for Dean, exploring Dean's body with his hands in private moments snatched whenever possible. And it feels strange being so open, being able to reach out whenever he wants to kiss Dean. But over the last few days he has done it more often than not. A constant need for Dean under his hands making his body vibrate.
“No Dean, I'm...” Sam starts to protest, because he has a bad feeling about this, this simple possession, since when has a possession ever been simple? Dean shakes his head and cuts off Sam's protest with a kiss.
“I'll be 5 minutes.” Dean says again, firmly this time, leaving no room for arguments. He slips out of the car and Sam goes to follow. Dean is round by him pushing him back into the car before Sam has even got both feet on the ground.
“Stay. I can't...” Dean trails off. His eyes portray his feelings though, and Sam gets that Dean doesn't want to loose him again, Sam knows that he isn't ready for this, hell, his stomach and his head are both telling to stay the fuck in the car, but his heart is telling him not to leave Dean.
“Dean...” Sam looks up at him, eyes imploring. Dean shakes his head again.
“Sam, please...just stay here.” Its the please that makes Sam nod his head once. Dean doesn't usually say please, he touches, begs with his eyes, but never actually says the word.
Sam watches Dean move towards the house and is once against struck by the ease which he exudes from his body language. Dean is graceful yet masculine, moving with a liquid grace that people can't help but look at. And Sam has seen it at work, women turning their eyes towards him as he walks past, even a few men. And Sam can't help the spike of jealousy that he feels every time Dean spares someone a cheeky grin.
As soon as Dean reaches for the door handle, Sam's head feels like its going to explode, pain blossoms across his temples, like lightning spiking across his brain. Flashes of images, Dean being ripped apart by invisible forces, a young blonde girl laughing, holding Sam against a wall whilst he watches helpless.
When Sam gets back to reality, the door of the house is closed and Sam practically throws himself out of the car, his legs don't work properly as he rushes towards the house, dread pitting in his stomach, making his legs feel like lead.
He throws the door open and is greeted with a sight that makes his blood run cold.
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“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, I must say I am surprised.” Sam looks at Dean and Dean's knows what Sam is seeing. He's seeing his protector brother slumped against a wall, face drawn in pain, a young girl, and Dean knows it Lilith, with blond hair curling over her shoulders and eyes black at night. Dean struggles against the invisible bonds that hold him down, desperately trying to get to Sam as his eyes go wide with fear. Lilith flicks her gaze towards him for a second.
“Sam...I've missed you.” She says, her voice like nails on a chalkboard to Dean's ears, and Sam feels the same if the way he flinches is anything to go by.
“I just dropped in to say hi, and that I'll be seeing your brother soon. What a surprise that you are here too. I should have known though. You two are just too darn close.” She takes a step towards Dean, and Sam goes to move, to protect his brother, but Lilith has her hold on him too. Dean tries to tell Sam to run, but he knows that even if he could, Sam wouldn't leave him. Dean can't help the swell of pride and love that rises in his chest. Lilith drops to her knees in front of Dean and leans forward like she is going to kiss him and Sam narrows his eyes in jealousy, and Dean wants to back away, away from the dark eyes that hold no emotion, only a hint of malice and amusement. Lilith looks at Sam as he struggles against her power.
“Now, now Sammy. Stay there like a good little boy.” She leans forward, Dean tries to get away, doesn't want her anywhere near him, wants to take Sam and get the hell out of here, hole up in a motel, with no clothes and re-learn his brother's body, sink into and stay inside his brother. Lilith places her face at the crook of Dean's neck and inhales.
“He smells like you Sammy. What have you two been doing?” She laughs as she stands up. “Oh this is just too perfect. This will make it all the better when I get my hands on Dean, and don't you worry Sam,” Lilith is now standing straight in front of Sam, Dean's struggling against the binds that hold him on the floor, slumped against the wall. She and places a hand on Sam's face and Dean knows her touch feels like fire, “I will get my hands on him.” She laughs again and Dean wants to rip her to pieces, wants to feels her flesh between his fingers, her blood coating his hands, how dare she touch Sam, how dare she touch what's Deans.
“Now now, Dean, less of those violent thoughts please. I am just doing want you wanted.” She spares Dean a look then turns back to Sam. “He wanted you Sam. Needed you, couldn't even last a day without you. And you go forget him. Not nice, Sammy, not nice.” She curls her fingers slightly and her nails dig into Sam's cheek, drawing blood that runs down his face. Dean lets out a wordless shout and Lilith turns towards him again.
“Alright Dean, calm yourself. I'm leaving now anyway. Its been...interesting. Be seeing you boys.” She throws a wave over her shoulder as she walks out and suddenly Dean can move again.
He takes a deep breath, dragging oxygen into his lungs as tries to push himself to his feet, wanting to make sure Sam is ok, wanting to feel his brother beneath his hands. Sam is by his side in an instant.
Dean drags in a ragged breath, and Sam is so close he can practically taste him on his tongue, bitter and sweet and he tastes like home and Sam. The thought that he shouldn't know what his brother tastes like flits across his mind but Sam cups his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.
“You ok Dean?” And his voice sounds terrified right down to his very soul and all Dean can do is nod.
“Jesus, Dean I thought she was going to...” And Sam's voice, broken and scared makes Dean reach up, tangle his fingers in Sam's hair and drag his brother down for a kiss that is reassuring more than anything, a desperate action to show Sam he's still here, alive under his hands. Sam lets out a surprised grunt as their lips collide, a hint of teeth and the grunt turns into a groan. Dean can't breath properly, his lungs burning and he pushes Sam away one handed because his arm is still beaten to hell, a long gash down his forearm and it feels likes it been wrenched out of the socket.
Sam takes one look at it and pales. Dean suppresses a laugh, Sam used to be so matter of fact about cuts and bruises now he looks likes he's going to faint. Dean pulls him back for another kiss and murmurs against his lips.
“Its ok Sammy. I'm fine.” Sam nods and gently pulls Dean to his feet, his hands on Dean's hips , steadying him and all Dean can think about is Sam's hands on his hips for an entirely different reason. And Dean needs to get out of here before adrenaline and pleasure at seeing Sam unhurt, except for the four half-moon cuts on his cheek, otherwise he is going to take Sam right now on the floor of this abandoned house.
Sam lifts his gaze from Dean's arm and his eyes are wide, fear, worry and a tiny hint of lust are clear on his face and Dean swallows hard.
“Lets get out of here.”
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Sam doesn't know why he agreed to this.
This wasn't his life, riding shotgun whilst Dean hums along to the music, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as the scenery flashes past, the odd flash of colour other than green as they pass a road sign. But Dean had been getting shifty, getting uncomfortable, and Sam could see that, see it in the way he constantly shifted, snapped at Bobby, snapped at Sam. Of course apologising to Sam had been easier for Dean than apologising to Bobby. With Sam he could just push him against a wall, slip his thigh in between Sam's, lick up his throat and Sam would have forgiven anything. Bobby was trickier. Saying sorry for Dean, was hard. That was one of the major things that Sam had learnt over the last few torturous months spent holed up at Bobby's with Dean going slowly stir crazy.
That's why when Dean had suggested taking Sam out for a couple of days, just to get used to the idea of being brothers, maybe pick up an easy hunt on the way, Bobby eye's had practically lit up, even though he tried to get Dean to stay, saying it wasn't safe for Sam, he wasn't ready, but his eyes had betrayed him.
And Sam couldn't blame either of them really. Sam had never liked living in close quarters with any body. Anybody since Dean who he couldn't be close enough to recently. Every time Dean was out of the room Sam got jumpy, expecting him to wander off, the end of his deal was drawing dangerously close and none of them were any nearer to a solution. But if Dean kept throwing up barriers then they wouldn't be able to stop this, Dean would die, Dean would be ripped from his hands and Sam couldn't do anything to stop it.
He shivered slightly at the thought.
So back to the reason why his stomach was churning and Dean was humming Metallica. He was going on a hunt. With Dean. To kill something. When Dean had been explaining, Sam had had no idea what he was talking about, unfamiliar territory for Sam. But he had nodded, tried to listen to everything Dean had said. And smiled. That had seemed to placate Dean for a bit, because he had pulled Sam towards him, wriggled his hands into Sam's jeans and proceeded to whisper filthy things into his ear and made Sam come in so few strokes that normally he would have been embarrassed. But having your brother jerk you off in a seedy motel was something that Sam, strangely, wasn't embarrassed about. It felt like something that he been building for years, it felt right.
Sam ignores the still squirming feeling in his stomach as Dean pulls the car off the road and up a dirt track. But even though he feels nervous, sick to his stomach, he hasn't been happier for a long time. Sure he was happy with Louise and Jess. But they had soft curves, Dean has hard muscle. They had gentle voices which practically sang in Sam's ear, whispering sweet nothings, Dean's voice was low, with that slight accent that turned Sam's legs to jell-o, and a wicked vocabulary that made Sam want to come every time he heard it.
Dean's hand on his leg makes him jump.
“You ok.” He says, his hand still on Sam's knee, the finger curling slightly and Sam wants to say no, I'm not ok, I want you to turn this car around and just drive. But he nods once and swallows. Hard.
“Sure.” He replies, pleased that his voice doesn't betray his feelings.
“Sammy. I'll be 5 minutes, just need to check this place out for EMF. Possibly sulphur. Stay here.” Dean leans forward, his free hand raising up to curl around Sam's neck. Sam meets him halfway. And every time Dean kisses him it feels different. Its feel new somehow. Kissing his brother. His brother that he didn't know existed until a few months ago. 7 months, he thinks. 7 long months. 1 of dreaming of him, 1 searching for him and 5 spent at Bobby's searching for a way out for Dean, exploring Dean's body with his hands in private moments snatched whenever possible. And it feels strange being so open, being able to reach out whenever he wants to kiss Dean. But over the last few days he has done it more often than not. A constant need for Dean under his hands making his body vibrate.
“No Dean, I'm...” Sam starts to protest, because he has a bad feeling about this, this simple possession, since when has a possession ever been simple? Dean shakes his head and cuts off Sam's protest with a kiss.
“I'll be 5 minutes.” Dean says again, firmly this time, leaving no room for arguments. He slips out of the car and Sam goes to follow. Dean is round by him pushing him back into the car before Sam has even got both feet on the ground.
“Stay. I can't...” Dean trails off. His eyes portray his feelings though, and Sam gets that Dean doesn't want to loose him again, Sam knows that he isn't ready for this, hell, his stomach and his head are both telling to stay the fuck in the car, but his heart is telling him not to leave Dean.
“Dean...” Sam looks up at him, eyes imploring. Dean shakes his head again.
“Sam, please...just stay here.” Its the please that makes Sam nod his head once. Dean doesn't usually say please, he touches, begs with his eyes, but never actually says the word.
Sam watches Dean move towards the house and is once against struck by the ease which he exudes from his body language. Dean is graceful yet masculine, moving with a liquid grace that people can't help but look at. And Sam has seen it at work, women turning their eyes towards him as he walks past, even a few men. And Sam can't help the spike of jealousy that he feels every time Dean spares someone a cheeky grin.
As soon as Dean reaches for the door handle, Sam's head feels like its going to explode, pain blossoms across his temples, like lightning spiking across his brain. Flashes of images, Dean being ripped apart by invisible forces, a young blonde girl laughing, holding Sam against a wall whilst he watches helpless.
When Sam gets back to reality, the door of the house is closed and Sam practically throws himself out of the car, his legs don't work properly as he rushes towards the house, dread pitting in his stomach, making his legs feel like lead.
He throws the door open and is greeted with a sight that makes his blood run cold.
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“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, I must say I am surprised.” Sam looks at Dean and Dean's knows what Sam is seeing. He's seeing his protector brother slumped against a wall, face drawn in pain, a young girl, and Dean knows it Lilith, with blond hair curling over her shoulders and eyes black at night. Dean struggles against the invisible bonds that hold him down, desperately trying to get to Sam as his eyes go wide with fear. Lilith flicks her gaze towards him for a second.
“Sam...I've missed you.” She says, her voice like nails on a chalkboard to Dean's ears, and Sam feels the same if the way he flinches is anything to go by.
“I just dropped in to say hi, and that I'll be seeing your brother soon. What a surprise that you are here too. I should have known though. You two are just too darn close.” She takes a step towards Dean, and Sam goes to move, to protect his brother, but Lilith has her hold on him too. Dean tries to tell Sam to run, but he knows that even if he could, Sam wouldn't leave him. Dean can't help the swell of pride and love that rises in his chest. Lilith drops to her knees in front of Dean and leans forward like she is going to kiss him and Sam narrows his eyes in jealousy, and Dean wants to back away, away from the dark eyes that hold no emotion, only a hint of malice and amusement. Lilith looks at Sam as he struggles against her power.
“Now, now Sammy. Stay there like a good little boy.” She leans forward, Dean tries to get away, doesn't want her anywhere near him, wants to take Sam and get the hell out of here, hole up in a motel, with no clothes and re-learn his brother's body, sink into and stay inside his brother. Lilith places her face at the crook of Dean's neck and inhales.
“He smells like you Sammy. What have you two been doing?” She laughs as she stands up. “Oh this is just too perfect. This will make it all the better when I get my hands on Dean, and don't you worry Sam,” Lilith is now standing straight in front of Sam, Dean's struggling against the binds that hold him on the floor, slumped against the wall. She and places a hand on Sam's face and Dean knows her touch feels like fire, “I will get my hands on him.” She laughs again and Dean wants to rip her to pieces, wants to feels her flesh between his fingers, her blood coating his hands, how dare she touch Sam, how dare she touch what's Deans.
“Now now, Dean, less of those violent thoughts please. I am just doing want you wanted.” She spares Dean a look then turns back to Sam. “He wanted you Sam. Needed you, couldn't even last a day without you. And you go forget him. Not nice, Sammy, not nice.” She curls her fingers slightly and her nails dig into Sam's cheek, drawing blood that runs down his face. Dean lets out a wordless shout and Lilith turns towards him again.
“Alright Dean, calm yourself. I'm leaving now anyway. Its been...interesting. Be seeing you boys.” She throws a wave over her shoulder as she walks out and suddenly Dean can move again.
He takes a deep breath, dragging oxygen into his lungs as tries to push himself to his feet, wanting to make sure Sam is ok, wanting to feel his brother beneath his hands. Sam is by his side in an instant.
Dean drags in a ragged breath, and Sam is so close he can practically taste him on his tongue, bitter and sweet and he tastes like home and Sam. The thought that he shouldn't know what his brother tastes like flits across his mind but Sam cups his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.
“You ok Dean?” And his voice sounds terrified right down to his very soul and all Dean can do is nod.
“Jesus, Dean I thought she was going to...” And Sam's voice, broken and scared makes Dean reach up, tangle his fingers in Sam's hair and drag his brother down for a kiss that is reassuring more than anything, a desperate action to show Sam he's still here, alive under his hands. Sam lets out a surprised grunt as their lips collide, a hint of teeth and the grunt turns into a groan. Dean can't breath properly, his lungs burning and he pushes Sam away one handed because his arm is still beaten to hell, a long gash down his forearm and it feels likes it been wrenched out of the socket.
Sam takes one look at it and pales. Dean suppresses a laugh, Sam used to be so matter of fact about cuts and bruises now he looks likes he's going to faint. Dean pulls him back for another kiss and murmurs against his lips.
“Its ok Sammy. I'm fine.” Sam nods and gently pulls Dean to his feet, his hands on Dean's hips , steadying him and all Dean can think about is Sam's hands on his hips for an entirely different reason. And Dean needs to get out of here before adrenaline and pleasure at seeing Sam unhurt, except for the four half-moon cuts on his cheek, otherwise he is going to take Sam right now on the floor of this abandoned house.
Sam lifts his gaze from Dean's arm and his eyes are wide, fear, worry and a tiny hint of lust are clear on his face and Dean swallows hard.
“Lets get out of here.”
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