Requiem For A Dream, Chapter 10
"Borrowed" some dialogue from Bedtime Stories.
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“I don't understand Dean, why not?” Sam sounds angry, even to his own ears he can hear that, but he wants nothing more than for Dean to pull the car over and just talk to him, let him explain, make Dean see his point.
“Because I said so.” Dean answers back, just as angry, a hint of fear coloring his words and he's staring intently at the road. Sam had broached the subject of killing Lilith when Dean had turned onto a lonely road, because Sam knew Dean wouldn't be able to get away, would have to listen to Sam. The fear of meeting Lilith still humming in Sam's veins, the fear of seeing Dean helpless and hurting still almost crippling Sam.
“Bobby's got the colt now...” Bobby had called them, explained about the Colt, and Sam's mind had starting whirring immediately, formulating plans inside his brain, and it had felt good to be thinking about things again, anything other than how much he wanted Dean to press him down in the leather of the backseat and just forget the fact that he had a little less than a month left.
“Sam...” Dean's tone is full of unspoken words, please Sam just leave it. And Sam, as much as he wants to, can't, because Dean is going to die, going to leave Sam and Sam can't take that, can't live without him. Not again.
“We can summon the cross roads demon...” And the way Dean's fingers tightened around the steering wheel make Sam know that Dean is regretting telling him about the crossroads Demon. Because once Sam gets an idea in his head, he didn't let it go.
“No, we're not summoning anything...” Dean shakes his head, a little sadly, full of defeat. But Sam keeps on speaking as if Dean hadn't opened his mouth.
“Pull the gun on her...and force her to let you out of the deal.”
“We don't even know if that'll work.” Dean steals a look at Sam, his eyes green full of fear and begging Sam to stop talking.
“Well then we'll just shoot her, if she dies then the deal goes away.” Sam can hear his voice getting higher, desperately trying to convince Dean that Sam is right, that Sam's idea is a good one. Dean just shakes his head once, anger replacing the fear and Sam can feel the big brother mode being put into place.
“We don't know if that'll work either Sam. All you're pitching me is a bunch of if's and maybe's and that's not good enough because if we screw with this deal...you die.”
“And if we don't screw with it you die.” Sam can't quite understand why Dean doesn't get that, why Dean doesn't get that Sam wont be able to function without Dean. But Dean shouts, his voice loud in the quiet of the car.
“Sam enough! I'm not gonna have this conversation”
“Why? Because you said so?” Sam can't resist speaking again, and he knows he sounds like a petulant child, but right now he doesn't care, not when Dean is being so blasé about his life, about his death.
“Yes! Because I said so.”
“Well you're not my dad.” Sam wants to pull the words back as soon as they slip from his mouth, Dean is never happy when the topic of their family comes up, and Dean's fingers tighten again on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white in the dimness of the car, starkly contrasting against the black of the car interior.
“...No but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. Now you're gonna let this go, you understand me?” there is an air of finality in Dean's voice and Sam is damned if he's going to let Dean get the last word on this.
“We don't act much like brothers right now Dean.” Sam says quietly, an after whisper, the back chat after being berated by your parents. Dean hears and the way he says Sam's name is almost heartbreaking.
“Sammy...” Sam feels anger take over, anger at Dean not understanding, not seeing his point. He grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Pull over...Jesus Dean, just....pull over.” Sam sounds so desperate that Dean does as he says, a sharp tug of the wheel to the right and Sam is out of the car before the last bits of gravel have stopped pinging on the bottom of the car. He slams the door, putting all his frustration into the movement and stalks around to the drivers door. Dean looks at him through the glass, his gorgeous features distorted, and Sam wrenches open the door and drags Dean out, slamming him against the side of the car. Dean's eyes go wide as Sam's thigh slips between his. Dean automatically bucks his hips into Sam's with a predatory growl.
“You can't pull the older brother crap on me Dean, not when you want this.” Sam says, voice low and dangerous, and he grinds his hips into Dean.
“Sammy...” Dean whispers as Sam grinds his hips again. Dean's hands encircle Sam's arms, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises and Sam doesn't mind, because even if anyone sees them, Sam knows he will wear them with pride, his brothers marks, his brothers need on his skin like a brand.
“What do you want me to do Dean? Just let you go?” How Sam manages to speak coherent words when Dean is breathing hard beneath him, his obvious desire hard against his thigh, Sam will never know, but he does, and he sounds vaguely amused, disbelieving and he lets out a bitter laugh when Dean nods once, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing and Sam follows the movement, can't help but lean forward and lick a long stripe up Dean's throat. Dean's hands leave Sam's arms and wind into his hair, grabbing handfuls and tugging Sam upwards till their lips meet, collide with teeth and need and Sam tastes blood as Dean pours all his desperation, fear and want into a kiss that leaves both of them breathless.
“I can't do that Dean.” Sam says against Dean's mouth, hot breath making Dean lick his lips, tasting Sam.
“You have to Sammy.” He says, and Sam wants to cry at the finality of Dean's tone.
“You fucking jerk, no I don't.” Sam says, anger lacing his words, anger and lust as Sam's hands find their way beneath Dean's t-shirt and rake upwards, nails scraping against hot skin and Dean arches into him.
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Dean can't think straight, some part of his mind is telling him to stop Sam, because he knows that if Sam continues to lick, bite and kiss at his skin, Dean isn't going to be able to stop himself from pushing Sam down on the ground and taking him, sinking into his brother and losing himself in him, till all thoughts of hell and Lilith fade into the background. But its the final step that Dean has been reluctant to take, not because he doesn't want it, he wants it with every atom of his body, every atom vibrating right now to feel Sam, to be inside Sam, but because its that final taboo, the word incest rattling around in his brain as Sam tugs Dean's t-shirt up. But Dean is powerless to stop himself from lifting his arms and watching with heavy lidded eyes as Sam throws it on the the ground, turning back to Dean with a look at steals Dean's breath, stops it dead in his throat.
“Backseat.” Sam growls into Dean ear, his tongue flicking out and pulling Dean's earlobe into his mouth, hot and wet, and rasping against the smooth skin. Dean gasps, he has honestly never felt such a powerful need for anything like this. Never needed anything this bad, so he doesn't even think about it, just fumbles with the door handle and pulls open the door, sinking backwards into the backseat as Sam advances with a predatory look on his face.
Dean doesn't know when the switch happened, but its a blur of hands, and kisses and knocked knees and suddenly Sam is underneath him, arching into him, jeans round his ankles, hampering his movements and Dean looks at his brother. Really looks at him. Brown eyes large with undisclosed want, bottom lip caught between his teeth, a light sheen of sweat covers Sam's forehead, sticking random bits of hair to his skin, and Dean can't help himself from leaning forward and licking it off Sam's skin, tasting salt and Sam. Sam drags a lungful of air in, shaky and desperate.
“Dean...” Sam lifts his hips in question and Dean drags his fingers down Sam's side, playing across his ribs, feeling hard plains of muscle beneath his fingertips. His fingers rest on the waistband of Sam's boxers, and Sam begs with his eyes.
Dean worms his hand under the elastic, curling his fingers around Sam's already hard cock, and the contact, finally, makes Sam keen in the back of his throat. Dean has never seen anything so tempting in all his life, Sam whole body tense, his back arching, throat exposed.
The angle is difficult, restricting Dean's movements, but he manages to twist his hand and he drags it upwards and pulls a moan from Sam that goes straight to his cock, making him almost involuntarily buck his hips against Sam's thigh. Dean drags his thumb across the head of Sam's cock, rubbing the slick pre-come into the sensitive flesh. Dean resists the urge to pull his hand out and lick his thumb, because the way Sam is looking at him makes him want to do it again. So he does, watching as Sam eyes flutter closed, but not before Dean catches a glimpse of the dark and enlarged pupils. Dean pulls back, crouching now rather than leaning on Sam and uses his free hand to pull Sam's boxers down his hips. Sam lifts them slightly, managing to help Dean and Dean pulls the material out from under his brother, throwing them onto the front seat.
Sam's hands come out of nowhere, fumbling with Dean's jeans, and he manages to get the zipper down and the material down his thighs even though Dean still has a firm grip of Sam's cock, and Sam's breathing is hitching in his throat, but Dean still notices the slight shake in his brothers hands. Dean has to let go of Sam to get out of his pants, and Sam whimpers when Dean's hand leaves him, but Dean is back in an instant, hand back around his cock, free hand curling around Sam's hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise and that's exactly what Dean wants, wants Sam to remember Dean every time his jeans rub against them.
Dean has never done this before, never wanted to do this before, but instinct takes over and he slips two fingers into his mouth, slicking them with spit and drags them downwards, circling Sam's hole. And Sam pushes his hips downwards, eyes begging for him because his throat has obviously gone as dry as Dean's right now and words aren't coming, words are useless.
Dean pushes his fingers in and god, he has never felt anything like the heat of his brothers body, all encompassing and Sam drags a strangled “god” from his lips. Dean pushes in gently, putting more pressure, exploring the inside of Sam, scissoring his fingers in a way that make Sam keen and push back even more onto Dean's hand.
“Fuck Dean, just do it.” Sam growls, shifting under Dean. Dean's eyes darken slightly, lust pooling in them as realisation hits Dean that Sam has done this before. Jealousy hits him like a slap in the face, fiercely hot and squirming low in his stomach and he growls in his throat, makes a mental note to kill whoever touched his brother like this.
“Shit Sam.” Dean leans down, covers Sam lips with a kiss filled with desire and want and ownership. Sam arches his hips upwards, nudging at Dean's obvious erection. Dean spits into his hand, slicks his cock and pushes into Sam. Sam gasps, arches upwards, back arched like a bow. Dean waits for his head to stop spinning, for his blood to stop pounding in his ears before his withdraws slowly, feeling Sam's body protest at the movement, even though Sam is begging for more, inconsequential words slipping from his lips like he has no idea what he's saying, a string of curses take their place when Dean pushes back in again and Sam's hands grasp at Dean's shoulders.
“Fuck Sammy.” Dean growls as he begins to move in earnest, hips moving of their own accord and Dean could no more slow down than bite his own tongue off right now, not when the heat of Sam is so enticing, not when Sam's body is contracting around him and Sam's breath is hot on his neck, Sam's fingers digging into Dean's shoulders.
Dean feels it coiling in his stomach, the tingles at the back of his thighs and the lick of white hot flames at the base of his spine, and he doesn't want this to be over, wants Sam to come first, wants to watch his brother come undone under him. He pushes himself away from Sam, still buried deep in him, hips still moving fast, almost relentlessly, and wraps a hand around Sam's cock. Curses stream from Sam's lips, and the muscles in his stomach twitch as Dean moves his hand, slowly at first, then quickening to match the pace of his hips.
It doesn't take long before Sam's whole body is tensing, and he's spilling out over Dean's hand, over his own stomach and Dean feels it, feels Sam contracting around him and it only take a couple more thrusts of Dean's hips before he is coming deep inside Sam with a shudder and Sam's name on his lips.
Dean falls forward, his arms not able to hold him up anymore, and Sam shifts to the side as Dean falls half on top of him, skin hot and slick with sweat. Dean shifts, tugging Sam to him, wrapping his arms around his brother and pulling his spent body snugly against him. Its cramped and just a little more than uncomfortable, but its close and intimate and Dean wouldn't move for the world right now. He winds his hands into Sam's hair and pulls him into a kiss, slow and gentle and so full of heartbreaking feeling Dean has to close his eyes to stop himself from showing Sam everything he's feeling right now.
“I'm not going to let you go Dean.” Sam whispers, his breath hot against the crook of Dean's neck. Dean only answer is the tightening of his arms around Sam, pulling their rapidly cooling bodies even closer together in the darkness of the backseat. Finding a way out of the deal, Bobby waiting for them, the rest of the world, can wait. Because right now its just Sam and Dean, as it should be.
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