Surviving
Title: Surviving
Author: hunters_retreat
Series: Story's End
Pairing: Dean/OMC, Sam/Dean eventually
Word Count: 2,400+
Rating: NC-17
Summary: All the issues he’d had tonight came crashing back as he pushed the stray lock of hair out of Sam’s face.
Author's Note: I've decided it's time to move things forward a bit with this series. Sam and Dean have begun adjusting to living a normal life and I thought it would be interesting to see them facing every day problems but with their messed up background so I fast forwarded two years. :P Enjoy!
Dean glared at the wall and swore a streak that would have made a hunter blush. His hand hurt like hell, but then it should after the beating he just gave it. He looked at the red smear of blood on the brick and swore one more time for good measure before he pushed away from the wall and began moving out of the alley.
The city was crawling with seedy types, just the sort of place Dean liked to visit when he needed something quick to release the tension. Tonight he just felt vulnerable and exposed though and he had no idea how to get rid of that feeling.
It wasn’t his fault. Dean tried to tell himself that over and over again but in the end he knew better. This was his fault. This … whatever it was … was his fault. Somehow. Dean did something wrong along the way and now he had to deal with it.
Alone.
Once upon a time Dean had been good at dealing with everything alone. Dad had been gone for long stretches of time with bare instructions about what to do beside keep his brother safe. Before Dad had died, Dean had been an expert at dealing with his younger brother, creepy motel managers who wanted to know when the next month’s rent was coming, and skeevy men who had plenty of ideas of how they could help Dean pay that rent.
That was before. After their father had died, Dean and Sam had learned to lean on one another. It’d been two years and they were doing really fucking good. Sam was excelling in school, he was one of the star soccer players and Sam had real friends. Dean worked his ass off as a property manager and in their spare time, Sam and Dean worked on a data base they’d started a year and a half ago for Bobby Singer.
When he needed a beer Dean headed to the local dive in town. He’d found a few drinking buddies, kids from the community college who were Dean’s age even if they didn’t have half the life experience Dean did. When he needed to get laid, he came to the city.
It wasn’t like Sam didn’t know where Dean went and what he was doing. They didn’t hide things from one another. At fifteen, Sam had come into the room one night, a black eye and a sorry excuse for his usual puppy dog look. The fight had happened because someone was gay bashing at the school. Sam didn’t tolerate bullying, no matter how the school took it. Sam was suspended since he’d thrown the first punch but Dean was damn proud of his brother for sticking up for the other kid. Right up until Sam had said the other kid was “kinda-sorta-my-boyfriend”.
Sam being bisexual wasn’t the issue. Sam teased Dean that he swung whatever way happened to look in his direction and Dean never corrected him. It was true. Dean had talked to Sam about that though, the first time Sam had heard someone slurring Dean because of his sexuality. He’d been honest with Sam because he hadn’t wanted his kid brother running to their dad. Dean hadn’t been sure how John Winchester would take the idea of his son being even partially gay.
Sam hiding it until he was close enough to have a “kinda-sorta” boyfriend had set off warning bells in Dean’s head though. They’d had a long talk after that and while Sam tended to stick to girls, he knew his brother wasn’t entirely straight. So there was no need to hide the fact that sometimes Dean went into the city to get laid.
Except that Dean wasn’t getting laid tonight because his head was in the wrong place. Dean just couldn’t pull himself together enough to focus on the people around him to get through a simple ‘hey, you wanna’ before he was stumbling.
The night air helped calm him and Dean stopped walking and turned to let his back rest against the brick wall. His fist ached but the pain was welcome. It helped ground him in ways he’d forgotten after two years of the normal life.
“Come on Dean,” he whispered to himself. “It isn’t that complicated.”
The back door of the club opened and the guy Dean had been talking to came out into the alley. He looked at Dean with a small smile on his face. “Wondered where you went.”
Dean gave him an answering smile. “Just needed to cool down.”
“Yeah, it’s warm in there.”
The guy came towards him and as much as Dean wanted to tell him to go away he didn’t. Dean needed this, no matter what else was going on in his head.
The guy stepped closer and buried his nose in Dean’s neck. “Gonna get warmer if you keep that up,” Dean groaned.
“Looking forward to it,” the guy said as his fingers began to undo the button in Dean’s jeans. Dean let his head drop to the brick behind him and moaned as the guy pulled his zipper down.
Long brown hair fell messily over the guys eyes and Dean wrapped his hand in the curly brown locks and directed him to his knees. The guy went willingly. Dean wanted to close his eyes and lose himself in the sensation but he couldn’t. He’d been trained better than to let his guard down like that. Instead he looked up and out rather than focus on the color of the guy’s hair or the way he wanted to brush it back off his forehead. Dean had started to do it inside the bar and caught himself just in time to stop.
The guy’s mouth was just this side of heaven though and Dean pushed back his thoughts and worries and allowed himself to focus on the sensations. Dean could feel the guy’s movements and when Dean looked, the guy had his own dick out and was getting off on blowing Dean. Win/win for everyone, Dean thought as the guy swallowed him deeper.
Dean let out a warning growl and pulled the guy back by his hair and the guy jacked him off until come ran through his fingers as he fisted Dean. He leaned closer and rested his head on Dean’s stomach as he continued working himself.
“Come on baby,” Dean growled as he continued to pull at the guy’s hair. “Fuck your fist for me. Wanna see you come all over yourself.”
The guys movements sped up and he groaned as he spilled over his fist. Dean let go of his hair and after a second the guy stood up, tucked himself into his pants as Dean did the same. Dean wasn’t sure what to say after that. He never had trouble with this sort of thing but the guy was bringing up issues Dean didn’t want to face tonight.
“See you around?” the guy asked, giving Dean the out he needed.
Dean smiled seductively and nodded. “You can count on it.”
The guy went back inside and Dean walked to the front of the alley and back to the street where his car was parked. Dean let out a deep breath as he settled into the front seat. It wasn’t until he was on the road with the wheel under his fingers that he felt he could breathe again though. Yes, he’d needed to get laid but tonight hadn’t helped the way he’d hoped.
It was a twenty minute drive home and he pulled onto the long lane that led to the Winchester home. Dean never did get around to getting a dog but they had three cats that Sam fed on the back porch each night and a stray mutt that came around every so often to check on them. Maybe for Sam’s next birthday.
Dean was surprised to find Sam’s beat up Mustang as he pulled to the end of the driveway. The engine ran beautifully on the car but Dean had made Sam promise to pay for the paint job before he’d bought her and his brother was still working on the money for that. It wasn’t that Dean couldn’t help him out, but when Sam had asked for a car Dean wanted his brother to understand the responsibility of it. It was Dean’s car until Sam paid for the final touches. Dean himself had done most of the work on her to make sure she was safe for Sam. Dean was willing to do the bodywork too but Sam had to pay for the supplies. It was a better deal than he’d get at any garage and Sam had been more than willing to accept.
Another two or three weeks and Sam would have the money saved to get it done and Dean would be handing the title over to Sam.
Dean got out of the Impala and walked past the 65 Mustang to see that there was nothing wrong with her before he walked into the house. Sam was sitting at the kitchen counter, beer in hand.
“Sam?”
His brother turned around and gave Dean a short smile before he took a long swig from the bottle. Sam looked Dean over and reached into the fridge and pulled out another beer, handing it to his brother.
“Thanks. Didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
Dean opened the beer and threw the cap on the table as Sam walked past him to go sit in the living room. Sam dropped heavily onto the couch and Dean followed.
“Broke up with Sherry tonight,” he said softly. Sam was playing with the label on the bottle and Dean could see from the state of it that Sam had been doing that for a while.
“Shit man, sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“No, of course. I didn’t want to say anything. I kept … I don’t know. Hoped it would work out. She’s got these ideas though and, Jesus Dean I’m sixteen. I’m not buying a promise anything for anyone!”
Dean barely kept from spitting his beer out as he looked over at Sam. “She wanted a promise ring?”
“What am I supposed to say to that? Sorry darlin’ but I’ll be long gone in two years? Lie and get her a damn ring that won’t mean a thing? Even if I was staying Dean, even if we haven’t always talked about hunting once I turned eighteen I couldn’t do that. I like Sherry and she was fun to hang out with but there is no way I could ever get close enough to let someone else into this life.”
“Sam, we don’t have to have that life. Damn it, we talked about hunting as one of our options, and always because you said you still wanted to think about it. It’s not definite.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and Dean’s outburst seemed to surprise him. Dean had worked hard to give Sam a good life these last two years though and he was having a hard time listening to Sam talk like hunting was the only choice he had. Like living motel room to motel room with Dean was the only option available to him.
“I thought you were talking about college, Sam?”
Sam nodded. “I am. I’m just … realistic Dean. Maybe I won’t be a full time hunter like Dad was, but one of these days Bobby will call because he doesn’t have anyone else. We’ll take the job because someone will die if we don’t. It will be the right thing to do but once that starts it won’t stop. We’ll both fall into it again, even if it’s part time.”
Dean let out a deep breath. “I don’t want that for you, Sam.”
“What about for yourself Dean? What do you want for yourself?”
Sam was looking at him with so much concern it ripped his gut apart. Sam didn’t deserve this. Any of it. All the issues he’d had tonight came crashing back as he pushed the stray lock of hair out of Sam’s face.
“Sam, I don’t know. I’m not ready to think about it yet.”
Sam looked at him for a few more minutes but instead of chasing for the answer he turned away and set his beer on the table. Sam pushed at Dean until Dean was in the corner of the couch and then he was lying with his back to Dean’s chest, resting in the vee of Dean’s legs.
“Sammy?”
“Just need to relax. Can’t settle down lately.”
Dean hadn’t been able to either. Not since they’d agreed to stop showing up in each other’s rooms. It didn’t happen every night, but a nightmare or a flashback, a reminder of their old lives and nothing felt right again until Dean could sleep with Sam pressed up against him.
Sam had the same issue but they’d both realized that being in the same bed and not addressing the situation wasn’t the best way to deal with it. It’d taken some doing but Dean had convinced Sam to go talk to someone. They came up with a series of lies that would explain things. The monster of the week was a creepy figure at the park or an authority figure they feared would tear them apart. It allowed Sam and Dean to talk about the traumatic events in their lives without lying about the whole thing. It wasn’t all true but it was a start.
Dean thought they were both doing better but the two year mark of their dad’s death seemed to have killed that illusion. Instead of pushing Sam away like he was supposed to, Dean held him close and buried his nose in Sam’s hair.
“Shhhh, got you Sammy,” Dean whispered as Sam shifted.
It was fucked up, what he was feeling as he held Sam close. Dean thought it just might be fucked up, whatever Sam was feeling too, but they were still surviving. They were in a safe enough place that their past was catching up and they were both catching hell from post-traumatic stress but they were learning to cope.
Dean was taking care of Sam though and Sam was taking care of Dean just like they always did. It might be all sorts of crazy, but they had each other and that was all that mattered at the end of the day.
On to Secrets & Misunderstandings
Author: hunters_retreat
Series: Story's End
Pairing: Dean/OMC, Sam/Dean eventually
Word Count: 2,400+
Rating: NC-17
Summary: All the issues he’d had tonight came crashing back as he pushed the stray lock of hair out of Sam’s face.
Author's Note: I've decided it's time to move things forward a bit with this series. Sam and Dean have begun adjusting to living a normal life and I thought it would be interesting to see them facing every day problems but with their messed up background so I fast forwarded two years. :P Enjoy!
Dean glared at the wall and swore a streak that would have made a hunter blush. His hand hurt like hell, but then it should after the beating he just gave it. He looked at the red smear of blood on the brick and swore one more time for good measure before he pushed away from the wall and began moving out of the alley.
The city was crawling with seedy types, just the sort of place Dean liked to visit when he needed something quick to release the tension. Tonight he just felt vulnerable and exposed though and he had no idea how to get rid of that feeling.
It wasn’t his fault. Dean tried to tell himself that over and over again but in the end he knew better. This was his fault. This … whatever it was … was his fault. Somehow. Dean did something wrong along the way and now he had to deal with it.
Alone.
Once upon a time Dean had been good at dealing with everything alone. Dad had been gone for long stretches of time with bare instructions about what to do beside keep his brother safe. Before Dad had died, Dean had been an expert at dealing with his younger brother, creepy motel managers who wanted to know when the next month’s rent was coming, and skeevy men who had plenty of ideas of how they could help Dean pay that rent.
That was before. After their father had died, Dean and Sam had learned to lean on one another. It’d been two years and they were doing really fucking good. Sam was excelling in school, he was one of the star soccer players and Sam had real friends. Dean worked his ass off as a property manager and in their spare time, Sam and Dean worked on a data base they’d started a year and a half ago for Bobby Singer.
When he needed a beer Dean headed to the local dive in town. He’d found a few drinking buddies, kids from the community college who were Dean’s age even if they didn’t have half the life experience Dean did. When he needed to get laid, he came to the city.
It wasn’t like Sam didn’t know where Dean went and what he was doing. They didn’t hide things from one another. At fifteen, Sam had come into the room one night, a black eye and a sorry excuse for his usual puppy dog look. The fight had happened because someone was gay bashing at the school. Sam didn’t tolerate bullying, no matter how the school took it. Sam was suspended since he’d thrown the first punch but Dean was damn proud of his brother for sticking up for the other kid. Right up until Sam had said the other kid was “kinda-sorta-my-boyfriend”.
Sam being bisexual wasn’t the issue. Sam teased Dean that he swung whatever way happened to look in his direction and Dean never corrected him. It was true. Dean had talked to Sam about that though, the first time Sam had heard someone slurring Dean because of his sexuality. He’d been honest with Sam because he hadn’t wanted his kid brother running to their dad. Dean hadn’t been sure how John Winchester would take the idea of his son being even partially gay.
Sam hiding it until he was close enough to have a “kinda-sorta” boyfriend had set off warning bells in Dean’s head though. They’d had a long talk after that and while Sam tended to stick to girls, he knew his brother wasn’t entirely straight. So there was no need to hide the fact that sometimes Dean went into the city to get laid.
Except that Dean wasn’t getting laid tonight because his head was in the wrong place. Dean just couldn’t pull himself together enough to focus on the people around him to get through a simple ‘hey, you wanna’ before he was stumbling.
The night air helped calm him and Dean stopped walking and turned to let his back rest against the brick wall. His fist ached but the pain was welcome. It helped ground him in ways he’d forgotten after two years of the normal life.
“Come on Dean,” he whispered to himself. “It isn’t that complicated.”
The back door of the club opened and the guy Dean had been talking to came out into the alley. He looked at Dean with a small smile on his face. “Wondered where you went.”
Dean gave him an answering smile. “Just needed to cool down.”
“Yeah, it’s warm in there.”
The guy came towards him and as much as Dean wanted to tell him to go away he didn’t. Dean needed this, no matter what else was going on in his head.
The guy stepped closer and buried his nose in Dean’s neck. “Gonna get warmer if you keep that up,” Dean groaned.
“Looking forward to it,” the guy said as his fingers began to undo the button in Dean’s jeans. Dean let his head drop to the brick behind him and moaned as the guy pulled his zipper down.
Long brown hair fell messily over the guys eyes and Dean wrapped his hand in the curly brown locks and directed him to his knees. The guy went willingly. Dean wanted to close his eyes and lose himself in the sensation but he couldn’t. He’d been trained better than to let his guard down like that. Instead he looked up and out rather than focus on the color of the guy’s hair or the way he wanted to brush it back off his forehead. Dean had started to do it inside the bar and caught himself just in time to stop.
The guy’s mouth was just this side of heaven though and Dean pushed back his thoughts and worries and allowed himself to focus on the sensations. Dean could feel the guy’s movements and when Dean looked, the guy had his own dick out and was getting off on blowing Dean. Win/win for everyone, Dean thought as the guy swallowed him deeper.
Dean let out a warning growl and pulled the guy back by his hair and the guy jacked him off until come ran through his fingers as he fisted Dean. He leaned closer and rested his head on Dean’s stomach as he continued working himself.
“Come on baby,” Dean growled as he continued to pull at the guy’s hair. “Fuck your fist for me. Wanna see you come all over yourself.”
The guys movements sped up and he groaned as he spilled over his fist. Dean let go of his hair and after a second the guy stood up, tucked himself into his pants as Dean did the same. Dean wasn’t sure what to say after that. He never had trouble with this sort of thing but the guy was bringing up issues Dean didn’t want to face tonight.
“See you around?” the guy asked, giving Dean the out he needed.
Dean smiled seductively and nodded. “You can count on it.”
The guy went back inside and Dean walked to the front of the alley and back to the street where his car was parked. Dean let out a deep breath as he settled into the front seat. It wasn’t until he was on the road with the wheel under his fingers that he felt he could breathe again though. Yes, he’d needed to get laid but tonight hadn’t helped the way he’d hoped.
It was a twenty minute drive home and he pulled onto the long lane that led to the Winchester home. Dean never did get around to getting a dog but they had three cats that Sam fed on the back porch each night and a stray mutt that came around every so often to check on them. Maybe for Sam’s next birthday.
Dean was surprised to find Sam’s beat up Mustang as he pulled to the end of the driveway. The engine ran beautifully on the car but Dean had made Sam promise to pay for the paint job before he’d bought her and his brother was still working on the money for that. It wasn’t that Dean couldn’t help him out, but when Sam had asked for a car Dean wanted his brother to understand the responsibility of it. It was Dean’s car until Sam paid for the final touches. Dean himself had done most of the work on her to make sure she was safe for Sam. Dean was willing to do the bodywork too but Sam had to pay for the supplies. It was a better deal than he’d get at any garage and Sam had been more than willing to accept.
Another two or three weeks and Sam would have the money saved to get it done and Dean would be handing the title over to Sam.
Dean got out of the Impala and walked past the 65 Mustang to see that there was nothing wrong with her before he walked into the house. Sam was sitting at the kitchen counter, beer in hand.
“Sam?”
His brother turned around and gave Dean a short smile before he took a long swig from the bottle. Sam looked Dean over and reached into the fridge and pulled out another beer, handing it to his brother.
“Thanks. Didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
Dean opened the beer and threw the cap on the table as Sam walked past him to go sit in the living room. Sam dropped heavily onto the couch and Dean followed.
“Broke up with Sherry tonight,” he said softly. Sam was playing with the label on the bottle and Dean could see from the state of it that Sam had been doing that for a while.
“Shit man, sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“No, of course. I didn’t want to say anything. I kept … I don’t know. Hoped it would work out. She’s got these ideas though and, Jesus Dean I’m sixteen. I’m not buying a promise anything for anyone!”
Dean barely kept from spitting his beer out as he looked over at Sam. “She wanted a promise ring?”
“What am I supposed to say to that? Sorry darlin’ but I’ll be long gone in two years? Lie and get her a damn ring that won’t mean a thing? Even if I was staying Dean, even if we haven’t always talked about hunting once I turned eighteen I couldn’t do that. I like Sherry and she was fun to hang out with but there is no way I could ever get close enough to let someone else into this life.”
“Sam, we don’t have to have that life. Damn it, we talked about hunting as one of our options, and always because you said you still wanted to think about it. It’s not definite.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and Dean’s outburst seemed to surprise him. Dean had worked hard to give Sam a good life these last two years though and he was having a hard time listening to Sam talk like hunting was the only choice he had. Like living motel room to motel room with Dean was the only option available to him.
“I thought you were talking about college, Sam?”
Sam nodded. “I am. I’m just … realistic Dean. Maybe I won’t be a full time hunter like Dad was, but one of these days Bobby will call because he doesn’t have anyone else. We’ll take the job because someone will die if we don’t. It will be the right thing to do but once that starts it won’t stop. We’ll both fall into it again, even if it’s part time.”
Dean let out a deep breath. “I don’t want that for you, Sam.”
“What about for yourself Dean? What do you want for yourself?”
Sam was looking at him with so much concern it ripped his gut apart. Sam didn’t deserve this. Any of it. All the issues he’d had tonight came crashing back as he pushed the stray lock of hair out of Sam’s face.
“Sam, I don’t know. I’m not ready to think about it yet.”
Sam looked at him for a few more minutes but instead of chasing for the answer he turned away and set his beer on the table. Sam pushed at Dean until Dean was in the corner of the couch and then he was lying with his back to Dean’s chest, resting in the vee of Dean’s legs.
“Sammy?”
“Just need to relax. Can’t settle down lately.”
Dean hadn’t been able to either. Not since they’d agreed to stop showing up in each other’s rooms. It didn’t happen every night, but a nightmare or a flashback, a reminder of their old lives and nothing felt right again until Dean could sleep with Sam pressed up against him.
Sam had the same issue but they’d both realized that being in the same bed and not addressing the situation wasn’t the best way to deal with it. It’d taken some doing but Dean had convinced Sam to go talk to someone. They came up with a series of lies that would explain things. The monster of the week was a creepy figure at the park or an authority figure they feared would tear them apart. It allowed Sam and Dean to talk about the traumatic events in their lives without lying about the whole thing. It wasn’t all true but it was a start.
Dean thought they were both doing better but the two year mark of their dad’s death seemed to have killed that illusion. Instead of pushing Sam away like he was supposed to, Dean held him close and buried his nose in Sam’s hair.
“Shhhh, got you Sammy,” Dean whispered as Sam shifted.
It was fucked up, what he was feeling as he held Sam close. Dean thought it just might be fucked up, whatever Sam was feeling too, but they were still surviving. They were in a safe enough place that their past was catching up and they were both catching hell from post-traumatic stress but they were learning to cope.
Dean was taking care of Sam though and Sam was taking care of Dean just like they always did. It might be all sorts of crazy, but they had each other and that was all that mattered at the end of the day.
On to Secrets & Misunderstandings