Fic: Inheritance - Part 2 of 4 (Sam/Dean NC-17)
Masterpost ~*~ Part 1 ~*~
They’ve been driving for an hour without saying anything, just listening to a series of classic rock stations that Dean dials in, as one fades away, there’s always another to take its place. Sam finally decides he better tell Dean the rest of what their new legal counsel advised. “So uh, the lawyer said it would take a while to disburse the funds from Bobby’s estate. At least a few weeks.”
“We have to stick around?” Dean asks, a little surprised that Sam’s let them drive away from Sioux City if they were supposed to stay.
“I thought we would have to, but no we’ll just have to come back to sign the final papers when all the legal stuff with the will goes through. By the way, I asked him to go ahead and draw up estates for us, not that the tax laws will be changing any time soon, but it just makes sense with that much money involved.”
“Okay.” Dean’s not too sure what all that is about, but he’s glad that Sam is handling the paperwork, and the lawyer seemed like he was on the up and up.
Sam takes a deep breath for what he’s worried the most about Dean’s reaction to hearing. “He also told me we should talk about wills and stuff too, so he can do them at the same time as the estate. We need to let him know details like who we’re leaving our money to when we, you know, actually die for real.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. That’s the easy part.” This doesn’t seem like an unusual thing to Dean to be thinking about, not with so much money involved now.
“How so?” Sam asks, wondering why Dean’s being so stubbornly obtuse about choosing a beneficiary, it seems like an open question.
“Well, who else do I have? I’m putting you down,” Dean says, looking over at Sam hoping to get a clue from his face when he answers.
“What about Benny?” Sam asks.
“Why in the hell would I do that?” Dean asks, frustrated that Sam would bring Benny up in this conversation.
“You called him brother, seemed like he meant a lot to you,” Sam states, voice gone flat and emotionless.
“Give me a break, what are you planning on putting down Amelia?” Dean jabs at Sam.
“Now, why the hell would I do that?” Sam asks, confused because he’s told Dean several times now that it’s over with her.
“Seemed like she meant a lot to you,” Dean says.
Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah she did, but that’s over now, I told you that.”
“Whatever. So what’re you going to do with all your money?” Dean asks, hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles go white.
Sam’s just glad that the part of the conversation he was dreading seems to be over. He takes a moment to think and then answers. “I want to buy a house with some land.”
Dean goes very still and watchful, staring straight ahead out the windshield. Finally he asks carefully. “Can I come visit you sometime at this house?”
“What are you talking about? You’d be living there too,” Sam says, still confused at his brother’s obliviousness.
“Oh,” Dean says quietly, hands releasing their death-grip on the wheel.
“Oh? C’mon Dean, really? You think I’m going to what, go off and live in a house by myself?”
Dean brings one hand off the steering wheel to rub at the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t know what you meant.”
“See this is what I was talking about before! We never tell each other the important stuff, so you end up assuming the first thing I’d do is leave you or leave all my money to some woman I hardly know or something stupid like that. Because you never let me tell you what you mean to me. That would be the last thing I would want Dean, to live somewhere without you,” Sam says, hating the sound of desperation in his voice.
“Really?” Dean asks, a little stunned by Sam’s words.
Sam feels like screaming, that Dean just doesn’t get this, how important this is to him, to both of them. But he says with steel control, “Yeah really. And the sooner you accept it that I’m not going anywhere, the better off you’ll be. Guess I’ll have to find some way of reminding you that actually works.”
“Like what?” Dean asks, looking at Sam sideways because of that steel tone of voice, he really means this, eyes going back to the road quickly.
“I don’t know! Something you’ll actually remember,” Sam declares throwing his hands up in frustration.
“Fine be mysterious, whatever. But I like your idea of buying a house somewhere. Together,” Dean says with an emphasis on together so that Sam knows that he got it.
“How about we use some of our money traveling?” Sam suggests.
“Like we don’t travel enough already?” Dean asks, confused because he thought the idea of buying a house was to not travel.
“Not hunting traveling, just looking around for where to live traveling, stay in nicer hotels, eat at nicer places, maybe even fly sometimes, that kind of thing.”
“I like all of that except for the flying, but you already knew that didn’t you?” Dean says, looking over at his brother out of the corner of his eye, keeping most of his attention on the road ahead of them.
Sam smiles when he sees Dean looking at him, happy that he was figured out so easily, taking it as a sign that they’re clearing the way between them. “Yeah, but I had to ask. So what do you say? A Winchester tour of the USA to find our best spot to land.”
Dean nods. “I could get on board with that.”
“Where do you want to start?” Sam asks, voice openly happy, not bothering to reign in how much this is thrilling him that Dean’s into this idea too.
“Well . . . how about we get a map and strike out the states we don’t really want to bother with and plan it from there,” Dean suggests with another quick glance over at Sam.
“Sounds good. Uh, we stopping anytime soon?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, ‘bout an hour more, thought we’d stop in Madison tonight. You like that place, it’s a college town right?”
“Madison’s pretty cool, I’ll look up somewhere for us to stay. And you spend the next hour wondering how I’m going to make you remember I’m not going anywhere.” Sam wiggles his eyebrows which cracks Dean up and also gets him thinking. There’s a lot of kinky shit in that big Sam brain, who knows what he’ll come up with. He shifts in the driver’s seat, suddenly uncomfortable and more than a little turned-on at the thought of what Sam could do.
“You okay over there Dean?” Sam teases.
Refusing to give in, Dean answers. “Yeah, ‘m fine, you find us a place yet?”
Sam sees it, Dean’s arousal at just the thought of Sam doing something to him and slides over closer so he’s right up in Dean’s space. “You like the idea of being reminded don’t you?” Sam practically purrs.
“Sure, why not?” Dean asks, trying to sound nonchalant, but they both know that Sam’s really got him now.
“You’re going to love it, I promise,” Sam whispers in his ear, pulling Dean’s right hand off the steering wheel and up to his mouth. He meets his brother’s eyes momentarily then closes his and kisses the soft inside of Dean’s wrist. The kiss turns into a suckle then into a bite until Dean’s squirming and almost pulling away, gasping a little at the heat he feels deep in his belly, throbbing in time with his pulse risen to the surface at his wrist. Sam opens his eyes, puts Dean’s hand back on the steering wheel and then slides back over into his seat without another word.
Dean isn’t sure how he keeps driving after that stunt, it’s a good thing they were just on a straight highway. He realizes he feels completely aroused and curious and a little tiny bit fearful of what Sam is promising to do. It probably will be something different, and they’ve pretty much done everything sexual either of them is interested in. So what could Sam mean? He keeps driving, sneaking glances over at Sam, shifting in his seat and rubbing his fingers over the darkening mark on the inside of wrist.
~!~!~!~!~
The place Sam chooses is a bed and breakfast that is on the grounds of an old mansion. They’re booked into one of the outbuildings which is called a “luxury suite” which cracks Dean up when Sam brings back the ornate brass key.
“Us in a luxury suite Sammy?” Dean laughs as they unload the car.
“Shut up. Wait ‘til you see it Dean,” Sam slams the trunk down and walks through the small formal garden to the front door of the small house.
The small entry hall opens up onto a cozy sitting room with a fireplace, but the main thing is the bedroom which is dominated by an enormous tester bed. Four carved wooden posts hold up a canopy of deep red velvet which cascades over behind the headboard.
“Well, I don’t know if Bobby would like us spending his money quite this way Sam,” Dean teases.
“You won’t be thinking about Bobby soon. He wanted us to be comfortable, so get used to it, just for one night anyways. You go take a bath, I’ll head out and get us some supplies for what I promised you.” Sam grabs Dean’s wrist and brings it to his lips, kissing the dark mark gently and meeting Dean’s eyes. Without another word he’s out the door with the Impala keys leaving Dean a little confused.
Dean investigates and finds an enormous claw foot tub which takes forever to fill but is heaven to lie and relax in after a day of driving. He finds himself thinking about Sam’s promise about how Dean won’t be thinking about Bobby and how Sam’s going to find a way to remind him about how Sam’s not going anywhere. He smiles to himself at the thought of Sam planning something like this, not really liking surprises, but enjoying the anticipation. It’s been so long since he’s been able to let his guard down, to really relax after that year in Purgatory the instinct to always stay alert is very hard to ignore. He dozes off in the hot water, replaying the vision of Sam coming undone beneath him earlier in the car, stroking the darkening mark Sam had left on his wrist.
Sam returns soon, and arranges all the supplies he’s gathered and is coming back into the bathroom to check on his brother, just as Dean’s finally getting out of the bath. He’s stopped in his tracks in the doorway at the sight of his freshly washed and very naked brother. Sam checks his impulse to run over and get his hands all over that luscious glowing skin and instead just slowly looks at Dean from head to toe without saying a word. A pink flush flows up Dean’s chest to his cheeks, heating them up further. Dean’s embarrassed to be looked at? Sam thinks to himself.
Dean raises his eyebrows as if to ask. Why’re you looking at me like that Sam?
Sam just smiles slow and wide and lets the lust and heat shine through his eyes so Dean can’t miss it. Dean smiles back as soon as he sees the look Sam’s giving him, instantly comfortable with whatever Sam’s got planned. He crosses the room so that he’s standing in Sam’s space, right in front of him, the heat of the hot bathtub radiating off of him so that Sam can feel it through his clothes. Sam leans his head down and brushes his lips gently across Dean’s ear whispering. “Go sit on the bed.”
Walking towards the bed Dean sees that there are black silk cords tied to the four posters and he feels a flutter of anticipation rising up from deep in his belly up into his throat. They haven’t done anything like this in a long, long time. Maybe not since the whole apocalypse thing went down. But he asked for it, so he’s going to just go for it, he trusts Sam completely with this and knows that whatever’s about to happen it will be worth it. He climbs up and makes himself comfortable in the middle of the turned down bed.
“What no mint on my pillow? You’re slacking off Sam,” Dean teases.
“Don’t think you’ll be wanting a mint Dean,” Sam says seriously, reaching out to push Dean on the center of his chest gently so that he’ll lie down. He makes quick work out of securing Dean’s wrists and ankles to the four posters with the silken cords.
Dean doesn’t say anything just watches his brother move efficiently and quickly, feeling a little out of control with how his belly swoops and plummets at the thought of what Sam might have planned for tonight. Even though he trusts Sam with his life, he’s not sure how far Sam is going to go with this whole ‘reminding thing’.
“I’m not planning on anything too crazy, but you got a safe-word just in case?” Sam asks quietly, hoping Dean’s going to be on-board with what he’s about to do. It’s a real risk, but he knows he needs to take it, and doing it all at once is the only way he can see this working on Dean permanently.
Dean’s eyes widen, and he answers with no hesitation. “Cherry pie.”
“Got it,” Sam acknowledges, standing up and turning away from the bed.
Feeling unaccountably nervous, when Sam’s eyes aren’t on him, Dean asks. “Sam, you gonna fuck me or what?”
Sam’s arranging something on the bedside table that Dean can’t see. He doesn’t turn around to answer. “We’ll see Dean. It depends.”
“Depends on what?” Dean asks, hating the sound of the whine that’s creeping into his voice.
Sam can tell this is the point where the evening will go one way or the other, so he turns around and looks at Dean closely from head to toe and back again. “Whether you behave yourself tonight or not.”
“Thought you weren’t gonna get crazy tonight,” Dean challenges.
“No, I’m not. I swear. So to start, first you tell me what you want.”
Dean looks away and mutters. “Just want to get off with you. You know, now that we kind of worked things out earlier.”
“Dean, look at me. And be specific. Tell me what you want,” Sam says flatly, staring down at Dean.
Dean glares up at Sam, daring him with his eyes to not follow through. “Blow me, fuck me, the usual.”
Sam cocks his head slightly, seeming to have expected another answer. “You sure. Nothing else?”
With a small shrug of his shoulders, Dean says quietly. “No, it’s uh been a while you know?”
A smile appears on Sam’s face at that one, when he agrees. “Yeah, believe me I know. You didn’t in Purgatory?”
“No, not with anyone else,” Dean answers, shaking his head to emphasize the negative, and so he doesn’t have to keep looking directly into Sam’s eyes, this is starting to get uncomfortable, tied up, lying here waiting for things to start, Sam asking all these damned questions.
Sitting down on the bed so that his jeans-covered leg is barely brushing Dean’s naked hip. “Just yourself huh?”
Finally getting a little physical contact sends a shiver through Dean’s whole body, he lets himself settle before answering, wanting his voice to be as steady as possible. “Yeah, it was uh, too dangerous of a situation and I didn’t want to anyways.”
“Because it wasn’t me?” Sam asks quickly, in the most sharply demanding tone he’s used yet tonight.
Dean doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him like he ought to already know the answer. Sam raises his eyebrows in an I’m waiting expression and Dean sighs, closing his eyes before answering. “Yeah, Sammy.”
Sam gives him a second to recover because he knows that was hard for his brother to admit, he waits until Dean’s looking at him to ask. “You’re just mine aren’t you?”
Eyes widening in surprise at such a direct question, Dean answers before he can stop himself. “Course, you know that.”
“But do you Dean? Do you really know that? Earlier today you were thinking I’d go off and live in a house by myself without you or spend my inheritance on college or leave it to Amelia. So I don’t think you get it. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.”
Dean doesn’t answer, because Sam’s right, he really doesn’t believe that, he wants to, oh god does he ever, but no, not after the betrayal with Ruby. And this latest Amelia thing. He can’t let himself go down that road again, he knows he’ll be too hurt if Sam chooses someone else again. “But you were with her for a year, weren’t you hers?”
“No Dean. I really wasn’t ever hers. I never told her the truth about me, about my life with you. She never really understood why I fell apart just because I’d lost my brother. I know it never made much sense to her, and I didn’t give that to her, because it was the only thing I had left of you.”
Dean swallows against the emotion he feels all of a sudden, picturing Sam holding himself apart from this woman who was holding him together, just so Sam could remember him. “Okay Sammy.”
“You’re mine, but I’m yours too,” Sam repeats.
Dean can’t say anything, he can’t even nod to agree, because he’s not sure of his answer and he doesn’t want to lie, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Sam either.
Sam sees right away that he’s not going to get an answer to the most important question of the evening, at least not yet. He says, in a low, sultry voice that wraps around the base of Dean’s spine. “Just so you know, tonight’s not about bondage or pain. But it might be hard for you. If anything I do is too far or too much, then you use your safe-word, okay?”
“I promise,” Dean says in a small firm voice, eyes searching Sam’s face. Because he doesn’t understand what Sam means it’s not about bondage or pain, why the ropes then?
“Good. Okay, so we’ll start then.” Sam turns around to face the table and comes back with a blindfold.
Dean gulps, not in fear, but, well, he’s never done this, both blindfolded and tied-up, one or the other, but not both at the same time.
“Don’t worry you won’t have it on for long. Okay?” Sam says as he ties the soft blindfold securely over Dean’s eyes.
“Wanna see you Sammy,” Dean protests, sounding weak to his own ears, knowing that he wants this, whatever this is, if Sam wants it.
Sam runs his fingers lightly over Dean’s lips, pulling back when Dean’s tongue snakes out to lick at Sam’s fingers. “You will see me, don’t worry. This is about you for now.”
Dean settles back, letting go of the last resistance he was holding onto. “Okay, do with me what you want.”
“That’s not what this is either. Just keep an open mind okay? You trust me right?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, course I do,” Dean answers with the remaining bravado he has for the night, he’s kinda used it all up at this point.
“Then just relax now,” Sam says as soothingly as he can manage.
Dean tries to really relax, but it’s hard, he’s naked and tied-up and blindfolded and there’s this thrumming left-over Purgatory instinct still running through him that won’t let him let his guard down, ever again maybe. So he makes himself concentrate on and listen to Sam’s movements, his hearing sharpened by the loss of his vision. There’s the sound of what is probably a lid being removed from a bottle and then a glug of liquid. Then the unmistakable sound of Sam’s large hands rubbing together, hopefully warming up whatever the liquid is. Hopefully lube so the show gets on the road more quickly Dean thinks to himself.
Sam puts his hands on the top of Dean’s shoulders and begins massaging him lightly at first and then deeply, working the oil into his skin, moving down each arm to the fingertips and back up again. He gets more oil and moves onto Dean’s chest, paying a lot of attention to the spots where the pecs connect to the trapezius, pressing in deeply until Dean moans for the first time. “That feel good Dean?” asks Sam circling his fingers around Dean’s nipples but skipping them, the bastard.
“Yeah feels good,” Dean answers, proud of himself for not begging that Sam work over his nipples. Or maybe Sam’s forgotten how much he likes that.
“Don’t worry Dean, I’ll come back to them,” Sam says, as if he listened in on Dean’s thoughts.
“You better,” Dean mumbles and then sinks back into himself to enjoy this massage Sam seems so intent on giving him. He’s starting to feel like he’s warming up to this thing, being taken care of by Sam with all of his senses aligned with Sam because he can’t see.
“I remember what you like, don’t worry about it,” Sam says, grinning even though Dean can’t see it, hopefully he can hear it in his voice. He pinches each nipple in turn to emphasize the point.
When Sam moves down to his belly Dean struggles with not responding to it as a tickle, but Sam keeps the touch strong, not light and teasing. Finally he’s down below Dean’s belly button, this should start to get good, Dean hopes. But no, Sam’s massaging fingers go right on by, doing Dean’s hips, the sides of his glutes, the inner and outer thighs, but carefully and intentionally staying away from where Dean really wants his touch. Dean can feel himself, hard and straining towards Sam’s hands and tries to will it away. He’s not going to beg.
Instead Dean lets himself just feel the touch of his brother all over his body. How good it feels, how right, how much he’s missed it. How it seems like Sam knows exactly what spots to touch him in to release a bunched-up painful muscle or to give him an intense burst of pleasure. The inside of his knees, who knew? No one has ever touched him all over all at once like this, not with so much care and yeah okay, probably love. He’s gotten his share of massages with happy endings before of course, but this is something different.
Not being able to see Sam he can use his other senses, he catches a whiff of Sam’s shampoo as he bends over him to do his shoulders. He feels the roughness of Sam’s right hand versus his left due to the calluses that handling guns leave behind even after a year off. He can clearly hear Sam’s breathing speeding up as he works on Dean’s inner thighs, probably because of being so near to Dean’s thickening cock. Dean realizes this is the longest he’s gone without saying anything during sex (is this even sex? he wonders), just groaning now and then in response to Sam hitting a good spot. He’s then left wishing he could taste Sam, that’s the only sense left out.
As if Sam’s read his mind again, he feels Sam’s lips on his and opens up hungrily as Sam kisses him deeply and carefully, drawing out the pleasure of exploring each other’s mouths fully and completely. Dean’s left wondering how Sam knew he wanted to taste him just then, but is interrupted in that thought when Sam breaks off and goes back down to massaging his legs all the way down to his feet. It’s a real challenge for him fighting the urge to kick out, but luckily Dean’s ankles are tied down. It’s a good thing they are, he thinks, because he’d hate to kick Sam in the face or something stupid like that.
Sam massages Dean’s feet harder, especially the sore instep and Dean feels the rest of his foot tense up and relax completely, his toes tingle as Sam pulls each toe and pushes hard on the balls of his feet. Running hands all the way back up his body, Sam stops back up at the shoulders and proceeds to Dean’s neck, rubbing the back underneath where it’s sore, always so sore from driving.
Sam stops and Dean feels him move away, off the bed. Dean misses it instantly, the warm presence of his brother right next to him. Right at his side where he belongs. But he doesn’t say anything, he listens, and hears the sound of Sam taking his clothes off. Then he feels the bed dip as Sam climbs back up on the bed, kind of near his head. Dean opens his mouth expecting to be fed Sam’s cock at this point, but no, Sam is climbing over and under him carefully so that now his head is resting on a pillow in Sam’s presumably naked lap, his legs on either side of his shoulders. Dean guesses that Sam must be sitting up leaning back against the headboard.
Without a word, Sam just starts massaging Dean’s head slowly, doing each section of it carefully and completely, finally ending with his face. The caring caresses on his cheekbones, eyebrows, forehead, around his lips are almost too much to bear without just moaning nonstop, Dean can barely control himself.
He’s feeling wild at this point to touch Sam himself the only contact he has is Sam’s hands on his head and the sides of his shoulders resting on Sam’s inner thighs. He can smell Sam now though, the muskier scent of him is near to his face so he breathes that in deeply, it’s a scent that he’s really missed more than he’d realized. It’s always meant home and love and pleasure, which he finds, it still does. When Sam’s hands stop moving and are just holding the sides of his head, Dean wonders what the pause is for. Maybe Sam’s reconsidering showing him that he’s not going anywhere. Maybe this was it. Maybe Dean wasn’t good enough or didn’t behave the way Sam wanted. It must all show on his face, because Sam interrupts the long silence. “Dean, just relax, I’m just resting my hands for a minute.”
Dean blows out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, releasing the tension that has built up worrying that he wasn’t doing this right. He’s pretty sure Sam knows he’s not really into the whole BDSM thing, and that he’s really not much of a submissive or anything, so whatever comes next will be new territory for both of them. He’s proud of himself though, for not begging through this whole long massage process. And he feels good, all over good, like he hasn’t felt in, well he can’t think of how long really. He wishes he was on his front so Sam could have massaged his back too. Except for the hardness of his cock, Dean feels like he’s melted into a pile of mush at Sam’s hands. Dean moves his head back and forth a little and encounters something hard in Sam’s lap under the pillow, so Sam’s hard too, good. At least they’re in this together.
Sam finally moves his hands, and it’s not what Dean expects. He removes the blindfold. Dean looks up into his brother’s upside-down face and meets his eyes. They’re filled with so many emotions Dean couldn’t possibly separate and name them all. “Need you to see this next part Dean,” Sam says quietly, lifting Dean’s head up a little off his lap, kissing him gently, the upside-down kiss both strange and wonderful. Then Sam’s getting out from under Dean’s head, propping it up on several pillows so Dean can see his own naked body stretched out, contained at four points by the black silk cords, still very erect cock waiting for attention. Dean almost complains about getting the show on the road already, but he stops, reminding himself that he’s put everything in Sam’s hands for the night, he’s following Sam’s lead on this and he waits without saying anything.
Sam gets off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, standing there so Dean can see all of him, powerful shoulders, perpetually tanned skin, black tattoo over his heart, the hard planes of his stomach, the deep v-cuts that point to his groin where his cock is just as erect as Dean’s is. Dean’s eyes travel back up to Sam’s and he sees the darkness in them, which is the lust coming through and winning over everything else Sam is trying to do tonight.
As Dean watches he sees the lust give over to something else, a look that Dean recognizes but can’t name. He’s seen it on Sam, he knows he has, but he can’t place it. When Sam gets on his knees and takes one foot in hand that’s when Dean remembers, it’s the hero-worship look that Sam wore up until his pre-teen years. How could he have forgotten it? It had been one of the best things about being Sam’s big brother, knowing that he was a big damn hero to Sam no matter what he did or what he screwed up. Dean’s only seen it a few times since then, and yeah he’ll admit it, he’s missed it. But what’s it doing on Sam’s face right now of all times? He wants to ask and is just about to when Sam finally speaks.
“Your feet Dean, these feet. Where have they taken you? You’ve been everywhere walking on these feet, Hell, Heaven and Purgatory and all over our part of Earth. They’re always on the right path, I just need to look for them and I know where to go.” Sam kisses each foot in turn and then holding both of them, one in each outstretched hand, he says with his eyes closed, solemnly as if he’s praying. “I am thankful for your feet.” He opens his eyes and looks up at Dean.
Dean is speechless, he has no idea what Sam is even doing here, kissing his damned feet and practically praying over them, but he can tell it’s important to him. And maybe it’s a little uncomfortable but he’s not going to stop him. Not when Sam’s looking at him like he hung the moon again.
Sam sees that Dean’s accepting this strangeness, at least so far, and continues, kneeing his way up onto the foot of the bed, hard cock bobbing in front of him, in-between Dean’s widespread and secured feet. He puts his warm hands on Dean’s knees holding them firmly. “Your knees Dean, these knees. Where have they served you? When you’ve needed to bend, to move quickly, to be flexible and open to change.” Sam leans over and kisses each knee in turn, his eyes closed again, with that prayerful look. “I am thankful for your knees.” Sam opens his eyes slowly and looks up at Dean from his bent-over position.
Dean’s feeling himself coming a little unglued, wishing that Sam had given him a heads up about what to expect tonight, this is so different than anything they’ve ever done, it’s so damn intimate, even more than sex. He’s feeling stripped bare in front of Sam and starts to try and put his walls up, but he looks at Sam there, bent over his knees, looking at him so openly and worshipfully that he just can’t. He even manages a faint hint of a smile. The thought of safe-wording a fleeting memory at this point.
Seeing that tiny smile on Dean’s face makes Sam’s heart leap up in his chest with happiness, so he takes a deep breath and continues. Kneeling further up into the vee of Dean’s body stopping when his knees are just grazing his inner thighs. Sam places one hand on Dean’s balls and one over his still very hard cock. It leaps up at finally feeling something, anything. “Your cock Dean, this cock. How much pleasure has it brought you? Me? Us? Unending and exquisite physical pleasure and joy. “ Sam closes his eyes and kisses the tip of Dean’s cock, he lifts up a little, eyes still closed with a look of prayerful bliss on his face, “I am thankful for your cock.” Sam opens his eyes and finds Dean’s immediately.
Just watching Sam do this step by step is blowing Dean’s mind. He’s not sure how he’s refraining from saying something to ruin it all, but he is, damnit he is, because he can tell this is more than just some slightly kinky weird sex ritual, it’s way beyond that. The way he’s starting to feel deep inside is just kind of, well, kind of clean. From his feet up to where Sam’s just kissed him, his body feels purified. How can that be? He nods a little at Sam.
Sam sees that slight nod and decides he’s going to carry on, Dean hasn’t safe-worded, so it must still be okay. He moves up so that he’s straddling Dean’s groin, his own heavy, full balls resting on Dean’s still hard cock, his own cock pressing between their stomachs as he bends over to place a hand over each of Dean’s nipples. “Your chest Dean, this chest. Container of your compassionate heart, and where you carry your immense and admirable courage. Where you carry the mark of our brotherhood.” Sam moves his hands off of Dean and leans over further to kiss each nipple in turn, then tracing the outline of the tattoo lightly with just the tip of his tongue. Not lingering or teasing, but as if in blessing. “I am thankful for your chest.” Sam looks up from Dean’s chest, so much closer to his face now that he can clearly see the emotions flowing through his eyes.
Meeting his brother’s eyes so closely now Dean can see into their depths, that Sam means all of this stuff. Every damn word is the truth for him. He knows it deep in his heart, and it’s filling him up, not just with feeling clean, but with feeling truly loved. He’s not sure, but he might start crying at any moment and he doesn’t want to ruin this, but he doesn’t want to hold the feeling in any longer either. A few tears escape sliding down his cheeks, but he smiles at Sam so that he’ll know they’re the good kind of tears.
Staying where he is, even though he wants more than anything to untie Dean and gather him up in his arms and lick the tears off his face, Sam makes himself continue. He needs to finish this, for Dean, for them. He puts one hand on each of Dean’s shoulders, pressing his weight down. “Your shoulders Dean, these shoulders. Strong supporter of weights and burdens unimaginable to anyone other than you. As well as solace and comfort for those you love.” Sam leans over and kisses first one and then the other rounded, muscular shoulder, feeling it flex under his lips. “I am thankful for your shoulders.” He tips his head up and opens his eyes to Dean’s which are still a little teary, but brilliant with a fire inside that he hasn’t seen in a long while.
Dean’s not sure he can take much more of this, as good as it is, he feels like he’s going to burst with everything he’s feeling. Having Sam worship him like this is amazing, and he’s surprised at how his body feels so good like he could leap off the bed and do anything. He struggles to stay in the moment, right here with Sam, following where he’s leading them on this strange night. Sam’s eyes are twinkling with more happiness than Dean can remember seeing for many years. This is good. This is a good thing. He’s going to hang in there then, he can do it.
Sam remains there, still lightly sitting on Dean’s groin, the small movements unavoidably arousing, but that’s okay for now, it’s keeping them connected at that level. He moves his hands up to Dean’s biceps and holds one in each hand. “Your arms Dean, these arms. So strong to fight with, to protect and to prevail. Stronger still to enfold and hold those you love.” Closing his eyes tightly Sam leans to the left and then the right kissing each of Dean’s biceps. “I am thankful for these arms.”
Sam opens his eyes and lets go of Dean’s arms, keeping contact he moves his hands further up, past the silk cords at his wrists, to join with Dean’s hands. “Your hands Dean, these hands. Clever and nimble and swift, practiced in the ways of battle and war. Soft and gentle in their healing passionate touch. These hands that have held me and touched me for my whole life long.” Sam leans up to the right and to the left, to lift each hand up to the limit of the cord, up to meet his lowered face, eyes closed, expression as one on a penitent’s face, receiving a blessing, and kisses each open palm in the center. “I am thankful for these hands.”
Dean’s beyond responding anymore, he’s floating in a sea of Sam at this point. Sam’s voice the wind pushing him along the waves. All of this is going into him and filling up the nooks and crannies that have always been starved and empty. He feels Sam let go of their entwined hands and watches Sam move up his body a little and misses the contact of the heat of their groins. Suddenly Sam’s face is looming over his. A look from Sam that tells him to hold on almost done somehow gets through to him.
Sam brushes his fingertips over Dean’s lips gently. “Your lips Dean, these lips. Talented and wise, able to speak your truth and to dissemble when needed. Full and flexible, always soft and warm, always kissing me where I need it.” Sam leans down a little further and brushes his lips against Dean’s so softly. “I am thankful for these lips.”
A sigh escapes Dean at that slight touch of their lips, like he’s been waiting for that particular kiss for his whole life. He and Sam have shared a lot of kisses over the years of course. But this one, this one is completely different somehow. Like it’s locking in the feeling he has inside right now, the one he’s missed all these years, and it’s back, the rightness of knowing his brother is his, completely his, is back. And this time it’s not going anywhere.
Tilting his head up slightly Sam looks down into Dean’s eyes. They’re kind of glassy at this point, still a little teary, overfilled with emotions, and just raw, pure Dean. No walls between them anymore. He touches each of Dean’s eyelids reverently. “Your eyes Dean, these eyes. They’ve seen everything from Heaven to Hell and anything else in-between, me at my worst, death, rebirth, danger, opportunity, and still you see that vision of a better world, you hold that true vision for me.” As Sam lowers himself closer to Dean’s eyes, they close, and Sam kisses each eyelid softly. “I am thankful for these eyes.”
With his eyes closed, Dean can go inside himself a little better and feel how it is having Sam worshipped him all the way from his toes to his eyes. There’s a peaceful sense in him that this thing that Sam is doing has been coming for a long time. And he’s glad that he got to stick around long enough to experience it. He opens his eyes and looks up into his brother’s, feeling himself tip forward into the darkened hazel depths swimming above him. Their connection feels even stronger now. He’s really wishing he could hold Sam now and tugs a little at his wrist bonds.
“Last one,” Sam whispers, moving up a little further and settling down to sit on Dean’s belly, the hardness of his cock pressing into Dean’s solar plexus. Dean can feel his own, pointing up towards Sam as if it feels neglected. But Sam said this is the last, he takes a big breath of air and holds it in. Sam leans all the way over him and holds the top of his head. “Your crown Dean, this crown. Container of your brain, all your knowledge and skill, your memories, your fantastic mind. Your control and discipline, everything you’ve learned and loved here, in one place.” Sam leans down, his chest over Dean’s face momentarily, kissing the top of Dean’s head. “I am thankful for your crown.”
Lifting up off of Dean, Sam notices that Dean’s eyes are closed again, and he looks like he’s in a blissful sleep. He unties Dean’s hands and then moves off to the side of Dean to undo his ankles. He blankets Dean completely with his body, and Dean looks up at him in surprise as if Sam’s awoken him. Sam pushes himself up on his elbows, and gazes down into Dean’s eyes.
“Dean, what I just did with you tonight is what I want you to always remember. You’re not just a body to be objectified and used. All of your parts fit together into this amazing whole that I can never seem to love enough. Every single part of you is precious to me. Especially what’s in here.“ Sam taps him lightly on the side of his head, “and in here.” Sam presses gently on his chest, over his heart. “But all of it, all of you, is worth more than the world to me. And I will never leave you again, not in this life or the next.”
There are no words left in Dean’s mind, all he can do is mouth as clearly as possible, Sammy.
“Remember tonight when you see this.” Sam lifts up Dean’s right hand and brings his inner wrist up to his mouth, kissing his pulse, then sucking harder, adding a bite, pulling the heat and the blood up to darken the existing mark. They both are breathing more heavily, the intense feeling of it making Dean squirm a little under Sam’s body.
“Do you know why I chose to bite you here earlier today and again just now?” Sam asks stroking his forefinger over the dark red mark.
Dean digs deep within himself and somehow finds his voice and answers honestly, “No.”
“Because we can see it, all day, every day, and so can anyone else. When you’re driving you can see it and so can I. Whenever you see this, I want you to remember what I’m telling you right now. I am not ever leaving you again.”
“I believe you Sammy,” Dean says, and is amazed to find that he does, deep down, really believes Sam this time, and he realizes in that moment, that this little fact is going to change everything for him. His whole life has been arranged around Sam, and most of it premised on the assumption that Sam was about to leave at any moment for something better. Dean looks at Sam with widening eyes that show he’s accepting the truth that Sam’s truly his now, for good.
Sam almost lets his tears fall at that small statement, it means everything to him. He’s finally convinced Dean, after all this time, all the frustration and pain, he finally got through to his brother. There’s a satisfaction that hits him, this deep feeling that he’s got to share with Dean somehow, and it has to be now to seal the deal, tonight. This very moment when all their understanding, the past the future, now will fuse together as it always was meant to be. They don’t usually take this kind of time and care with each other, but tonight, when he’s got Dean in this state, he’s going to. But he still has to ask, just in case. “After all that you still wanna?”
“You have to ask?” Dean laughs gesturing weakly at his still very hard and neglected cock.
Sam points at his own and answers. “No, I suppose not, a little obvious.”
Dean’s still feeling loose and out of his body, so Sam’s able to manhandle him into the position he wants him in, a pillow under his ass, legs up and spread. He’s just able to hold them spread apart, and is looking up at Sam with this almost heart-breaking open expression, it kind of takes Sam’s breath away for a moment. Sam knows he’s got to take it slow, Dean’s so vulnerable right now, leaving himself open so wide and unprotected like this. Not just his body, but that little bit of himself that he’s always held back from Sam. Seeing Dean finally release control, giving it up to him is exhilarating and Sam knows he has to reign in his impulses to take and command and possess. That’s not what this is about.
After looking at Dean for almost too long, Sam leans over him and kisses him deeply, feeling the longing for completion and connection in Dean’s kiss. They’re still so far apart, they haven’t joined together physically yet, and Dean’s most of the way there, Sam holding himself back until he can’t any more. He kisses his way down Dean’s torso, teasing Dean’s nipples to hardness, and lightly licking his cock, but not taking him into his mouth yet.
Just as Dean starts to voice his complaints at being neglected he feels Sam’s tongue continue, further, past his balls and perineum, circling around his hole. Licking softly all around the entrance. Dean groans and tries to pulls himself apart even wider to give Sam room. He surrenders himself over to Sam’s tongue and fingers. Taking whatever they give him now, with nothing held back. He’s making noises that he’s never made, saying things he’d never say, Sam’s gotten him to a place he didn’t know he could go. He didn’t know there was such a place and that he’d ever want to get there.
Dean’s begging and demanding and asking and telling as he feels himself opening wider and wider as Sam works his fingers in alongside his tongue. He’s straining up, his cock bobbing on its own, seeking for friction or heat anything, something and he can’t stop, feeling the words pour out of him, not caring anymore what he says, Sam knows it all anyways. Words of love and pain and loss and despair and ecstasy and commitment all jumbled together in a mass of emotion and pure feeling that he’s stored up for too long.
And it all goes away like a soap bubble popping when Sam’s suddenly entering him, taking him fully. Pushing through and past all the barriers until he’s deep inside Dean, almost touching the place where he’s set up camp in Dean’s heart. A spark of connection and recognition completes this circuit and Dean feels lit up inside with love and joy that they’ve come back to each other; that this is home, when their bodies are joined. And yes he’s saying all that out loud, but he doesn’t care, because he’s hearing Sam’s answer even though it’s wordless. It’s an answer made with the actions of his body, pounding deep and hard and then slow and steady. Taking them up and down those hills of pleasure that they rarely get to. Drawing it all out in this exquisite near-torturous parade of sensation and delight and aching emptiness finally filled for good.
Dean feels himself crest and almost go over. Barely holding back his orgasm until he feels Sam lose the rhythm. It makes Dean go wanton and loose circling his hips, containing and trapping Sam there, pulling him in. Drawing out everything Sam has to give him and finally letting himself surrender and join Sam in that final bliss.
They can’t move for a while, coming back to themselves, wrapped up and still joined, messy and sweating, breathing heavily. Sam’s collapsed on top of Dean, and finally he pushes him a little, to get some space to breathe. Sam groans and pulls out, rolling onto his side and drawing Dean in close. Dean doesn’t resist the snuggling for once, lost in the afterglow to end all afterglows. He’s not even tempted to crack a joke or break this up. For once, he’s wanting to remain in this feeling for as long as it can last.
Sam falls asleep almost instantly and Dean pulls the covers up over them both, turning himself so that he can watch his brother’s beautiful relaxed sleeping face. His last coherent thought as he drifts off to sleep himself is that he always knew Sam loved him, but he never really had accepted that Sam loves him just as much as he loves Sam. Dreams of balance and equality come to him that night, soothing him with images of a future life with Sam always at his side.
Part 3