fic: Marveille (Sam/Dean, Sam/Dean/Delphine NC-17) Part 3 of 7
Part 2
“Sam, I’m taking Delphine out for some dinner, gonna show her around town for a little while. Just lettin’ you know,” Dean said to Sam’s closed door. He heard a mumbled okay from inside, and waited to see if Sam would add anything else. He sighed when there wasn’t anything else forthcoming. “Bye!” he called, then walked down the hall to knock on Charlie’s…no…it was Delphine’s door now. He still wasn’t used to it, and wished for what he knew wouldn’t be the last time that Sam had chosen another room for her to use.
She answered his knock quickly and he stepped back to take in the full view. She’d found some of the small amount of vintage women’s clothing in the bunker and chosen a beautiful sleeveless, navy blue silk dress, it had a long full skirt and it clung to her body in all the right places, showing off her trim figure. She looked powerful and alluring and he could see why she’d been able to charm the pants off a Nazi officer and completely fool him. She’d curled her hair somehow and it flowed in a beautiful gentle wave along the edges of her face and trailed down past her shoulders. The earrings that she wore were a tear drop shape, maybe a pearl and he wondered where she’d found them.
“Wow, Delphine, you clean up real good,” Dean said, offering her his arm.
“As do you, Mr. Winchester,” Delphine said with a smile, threading her arm through his. They walked through the halls and into the garage arm-in-arm.
As they approached the Packard, Dean stopped and dug in his jacket pocket, he pulled out a key ring and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“You wish me to drive?”
“I thought you might like to try it. If you don’t feel like it, we can do it another time. But it’s not full-dark out yet. I can drive us back later.”
“Oh, the dark is not the problem, I do not know the American rules of driving, or how they might be different in this time.”
“I’ll coach ya, don’t worry,” Dean said with a chuckle.
Delphine slid in behind the wheel and cranked the ignition on, the old car burst into life, rumbling noisy and powerful in the echoey garage. Dean directed her towards the exit and the small two-lane highway. He settled in as he grew comfortable with her driving. He’d never been able to drive the Packard very well, it was just so huge, and the steering was very different from any other car he’d driven. She seemed very at ease though, and even more beautiful to him behind the wheel.
“This is not so bad after all,” Delphine said, smiling wide.
There wasn’t much to impress Delphine with in the area of Kansas that they lived in, but Dean did his best, showing her the wide open plains outside of town, the grain elevator, the library and school, the kitschy Geographic Center of the USA that was of course closed at night. He promised they could come back if she absolutely felt it was necessary; and then it was on to the one restaurant that they tended to frequent for sit-down meals, it wasn’t a diner exactly, a small step up from that and it was near a small lake so there was always fresh fish on the menu. Tonight there were even mostly clean tablecloths on the tables. Dean was greeted by the staff, with questions about Sam and how he was. He introduced Delphine as a friend. She was polite to everyone, but he could tell her antiquated dress was definitely drawing some notice.
“I’ll take you out somewhere to get some clothes that will help you blend it a little better.”
“Is what I’m wearing a problem?” she asked.
“It’s not a problem for me, I think you look fantastic. But it is pretty different from what people wear now. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about much but I guess that styles have changed a lot from more than seventy years ago. I’d say though, that in some of the bigger cities, you could wear that dress, and probably people would think you were just someone who enjoyed wearing retro clothes.”
“I see, so it is because this is a small town, anything different catches the attention,” Delphine said. “It was just like that when I was on an undercover mission in the German countryside, I had to take care to dress down from normal city clothing.”
Dinner was nicely prepared trout and fresh vegetables, nothing fancy, but it was well-executed and Dean was happy to discover that Delphine enjoyed beer as much as he did.
“I thought for sure you’d be a wine drinker, isn’t that a French thing?”
“I enjoy wine also of course, but I came to enjoy beer during my time studying with the Men of Letters chapter in Paris. One of the older gentlemen there had a small brewing operation going in the basement. He claimed that the beer would prolong our lives due to the ingredients, but no one believed him. But look at me now? I would say I am doing quite well for a hundred and one year old.”
Dean sprayed the small amount of beer out of his mouth that he’d almost swallowed in surprise. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Let me,” Dean scrambled to wipe the spray of beer off her shoulder and the upper breast of her dress.
Delphine leaned towards him so he could get to it better and laughed. “I surprised you, I am sorry. I was just doing some figures in my head to see how old I was now.”
Dean’s hand paused it’s dabbing at the silk and rested just below her shoulder. His fingers brushed her collarbone gently as if he was searching for more beer spray, but she could tell he was just taking the opportunity to touch her skin.
“Dean, I heard you and Sam speaking about me today, and I need to inquire. What does it mean for you to ‘try for something with me?’”
Dean dropped his hand to his lap and studied it for a moment, then he looked up at her, hesitant and shy. “I’m so sorry you heard us talking like that. It’s…it means to try to have a romantic relationship with you. We were arguing about it like idiots, I apologize, it was really rude of us.”
“I appreciate your honesty, truly. And as I am a woman out of time, I can see the point of what you say. I would not be opposed to it, you are a very attractive man, Dean, as is Sam,” Delphine said leaning in closer and taking one of Dean’s hands in hers. She stroked it gently with her fingertips and looked into Dean’s eyes. “You do not really want this though, do you? You are only doing this because Sam insisted that you try.”
Dean dropped his head, the guilt at being figured out overwhelming. “You’ve only known me for a couple days and you already have me figured out. But, I’m not only doing this because of what Sam said. I think we could try for something, see how it works out between us. No pressure. It’s a weird time for both of us.”
Delphine laughed at that then, probably because it was weird to be sitting here in the middle of the United States seventy-three years in the future with this conflicted man who already loved another, with what he knew was his whole heart. Dean felt sorry for her then, that she was alone, and that even if she did want something with either of them, it wouldn’t ever be what he had with Sam.
“I should warn you, my past relationships have all been short-term, sometimes work-related even,” Delphine said.
“Just about all of mine have been extremely short-term, except for Sam of course.”
“Of course, Sam. It does come back to him, but he is not here with me is he? You are,” Delphine said with a mischievous grin that promised all sorts of trouble.
“That I am. Hey, I think we should get out of here, you up to driving back?”
“Absolutely, I am. Shall we?” Delphine said, standing up and holding out her hand. Dean took it, enfolding her small hand in his. It had been a while since he’d held a woman’s hand. He was used to Sam’s large paws, and they didn’t do much hand-holding, especially out in public.
Delphine started up the enormous car with a solid vroom and sped out of the parking lot just as Dean closed the door. He was thrown up against her side and just stayed there for a long moment while she giggled with the rush of adrenaline.
She turned to look at him and saw the conflicting need and indecision that was in his eyes and pulled off the road at the next opportunity, shutting the engine off and setting the brake.
“Dean, I want to…” Delphine said, losing track of her words as Dean moved closer.
He took her head in his hands and tilted it just slightly, brushing their lips together. It was warm and then slick. Her tongue was first to venture forth and he responded immediately, almost overpowering her with movement and heat. His hands in her hair were wonderful, pulling and stroking her in time with the movements of his lips and tongue. His hands moved down her neck and then her back pulling her even closer. She let herself take this from him, even if he was not quite ready to give it. It seemed like he needed at least to try. Once his hands lingered near her breasts she stilled him with a touch.
“That should be enough of a try-for-something for now, yes?” Delphine asked, regretting that she couldn’t pursue her desires to the obvious conclusion. There would be time for that, though, she was sure of it.
He nodded and slid back across the seat to his side of the car. She put it back into gear and headed back towards her strange new home.
Dean left her at her door with a kiss on both cheeks and a short hug. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her, but it seemed to almost overwhelm him judging by his body language as he walked away down the hall. She watched him stop at Sam’s door, knock quietly and say something she couldn’t quite hear. His shoulders sagged and he continued onto his own room.
She tossed and turned that night, debating about whether it was right to be getting in-between these men. She had figured out quite a lot about them as Dean had noticed, but she didn’t know everything. And she didn’t know enough about their history together to judge. She finally gave up on sleep and examined the contents of the bookshelf in her room. It was filled with small colorful books, some that seemed to be mostly cartoon pictures of people fighting outlandish monsters and each other. But then there were some that had two beautiful men on the front cover. The first one in the series looked like it would be short enough that it might help her pass some time or perhaps fall asleep. After devouring a second book she felt she knew the brothers much better now. And she had been right, they were brothers. It was all right there plainly in the books, the ones that were about their lives. Not raised as Men of Letters, just as Sam had said, but instead as hunters.
Delphine was still in bed, curled up with a third book when there was a knock at the door. She straightened herself up a bit and said, “Come in.”
Sam opened the door slowly and stuck his head into her room. “Delphine, you doing okay this morning? We didn’t see you for breakfast.”
“I did not have a good night of sleep, so I began reading some of the books that I presume were left here by your friend. They were quite entertaining,” Delphine said with a smile that gave away her amusement at Sam’s reaction when she held up the book cover so he could see what she’d been reading.
Sam blanched and then his cheeks turned a cherry red. “Oh god, I thought we threw those things out. It’s so embarrassing, you have no idea.”
“I am finding them very informative, and I believe I am more caught up on your modern world of hunting than I was earlier. But I must ask, are these books indeed inspired by your lives?”
“Uh..it’s a long story. And I know we say that a lot around here, but it is. There was a prophet named Chuck.”
“A prophet, akin to a biblical prophet?” Delphine interrupted.
“Yes, exactly. Apparently the way it works is that there is one on Earth at a time. As soon as one dies, the next on the list is brought up. And there is an actual list that all the angels somehow know. Weird right?”
“So what does this modern-day prophet have to do with the books in question?”
“He wrote them. He said he was compelled to write them, he couldn’t not. Our angel friend, Cas explained it as they would end up becoming ‘The Winchester Gospels’ which I personally think is ridiculous.”
“I would not be at all surprised, Sam. I have only skimmed the last ones, but the things that you have done, both of you, for the world? It is tremendous and inspiring and the way you love each other, it is like nothing I have ever heard of,” Delphine said, breathless in her inspiration.
Sam stood there frozen, as he no doubt realized what she now knew. “Uh…I don’t know what to say, besides thank you.”
“Now this friction between the two of you because of me makes a bit more sense. In your whole lives, no one and nothing has ever come between you, not for very long at least. You have always chosen each other, and I would imagine you will continue to do the same.”
“So you’re wondering why would we want to try for something with you?” Sam asked.
“It seems to make things rather complicated,” Delphine said.
“True, there isn’t a lot that’s worth that complication, but you seem like you are. It’s as simple as that,” Sam said. “So, if you would be interested, I would like to take you out tonight as my brother did last night.” Sam blushed, likely at asking so boldly and for using the word ‘brother’ as if it was assumed and discussed between them.
“Your brother took me to a restaurant where we ate very nice fish. Will we be going to the same place?”
“No, there’s somewhere else I think you’ll enjoy. It’s a bit of drive since as you have realized by now that we are truly in the middle of nowhere.”
“When do we leave, and what shall I wear?”
“Can you be ready in an hour? Dean said you found a dress, that’s probably fine.”
“He spilled beer on it,” Delphine said.
“Of course he did,” Sam said with a laugh, “do you need help finding something else?”
“There were more clothes in this closet, but I hesitated to wear them as they may have belonged to your friend.”
“Let me look. I think I remember giving Charlie all of the vintage women’s clothing that was here,” Sam said, opening the closet, from deep in the back he pulled out several garment bags that had Men of Letters logos stamped on them. “Here, these are some choices. If nothing works for you, just wear whatever’s comfortable, it’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”
Sam blushed again at that and ducked out the door.
Sam drove them to Kansas City, in the Impala. During the long drive, he told her about the car and how it had been their home for their whole life. It was just like she had just read in the book. He pulled up past a marquee for a movie theater, which read: NOW SHOWING Classic French Cinema
“I thought you might like to see a movie. This is a place I go sometimes when Dean is driving me nuts.”
“Is it really French cinema?” Delphine asked.
“Yes, you’ll have to ignore the subtitles which are for those of us too slow on French to make out all the dialogue.”
Sam bought them tickets and popcorn, and led Delphine to a good seat in the middle with a hand at the small of her back. He seemed to watch her more than the movie, but she tried to enjoy the experience of hearing her native language. Their hands brushed together on the armrest between them until Sam laid his arm across her shoulders. She felt safe, cuddled up against the side of his chest as they watched the rest of the film that made her miss her homeland and time more than anything.
After the movies they walked to a nearby cafe that had live jazz playing. She noticed that less of the city people seemed to be side-eyeing her attire and she felt more comfortable. A dinner of something called deep-dish pizza was a revelation to her tastebuds. She was surprised to find that she felt so happy as they walked along the nearly empty streets back to the Impala. It had been a long few days, but between the two brothers, they’d made her feel safe and comfortable, and so many other things.
After Sam unlocked her door and opened it, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around Sam and pulling him close. She kissed him just about exactly as much as she had kissed Dean. And it was so different, Sam was all power and energy and enthusiasm. It was like kissing an amorous whirlwind, she felt turned inside out once she pushed herself away. Sam looked dazed and worried at the same time, but not guilty, so that was something.
He had her back pressed against the Impala and it was hard to miss the impatient movements of his hips against her. She sighed, realizing that she had to stop things here, otherwise it would confuse them all more than she was willing to risk. With one hand on his chest she pushed him away, just slightly. His mouth was kiss-swollen, lips so pink and luscious she hated having to stop him. “Sam, I believe that was as far as we should take things tonight.”
He groaned, but smiled down at her quickly. “I get it, that’s fine. We should get back.” He helped her into the car, closed her door and walked around slowly. She could see that he was trying to adjust himself physically and mentally for the long ride home. They kept the conversation going though and it was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Sam Winchester’s agile mind was full of all kinds of bits of lore and knowledge, real lived experience that no Man of Letters she’d ever met had any chance at knowing.
When they finally returned to the Bunker much later that night, Sam kissed Delphine on the cheek at her door and held her tightly for a long moment. Then he headed to the library room to work on some research and maybe to have a drink. Instead he found Dean, slouched in one of the library chairs, a highball glass knocked over and empty on the table nearest to him. He was snoring lightly and his head was at a terrible angle. Sam couldn’t leave him like that, even if they were trying to avoid each other while they got this Delphine thing worked out. He touched Dean on the shoulder to wake him up.
“S’mmy, you’re back already?”
“Dude, it’s like one in the morning, and you’re sleeping in a chair all crunched up. C’mon, you should head to bed, okay?”
Dean stood up unsteadily and then fell forward into Sam. Sam had to catch him or let him fall, so he caught him, and when their bodies collided the inevitable sparks flared up between them.
Which of us is the flint, Sam briefly wondered as his mouth found its way to Dean’s, once they were attached at the lips, the rest of their bodies aligned according to the usual arrangement. It had been a while for both of them, so they were hard in an instant, both groaning as they ground against each other. Sam didn’t just want to come in his jeans like a teenager here in the middle of the library, so he led Dean off to Dean’s room which was farthest away from Delphine’s, hopefully she wouldn’t hear them. Because it was likely to get loud, Dean had always been the loudest when he was drunk.
Dean pushed him up against the door, closing and locking it. He kissed Sam like he was hunting for something that had been lost. Finally Sam realized he was tasting Delphine on his lips.
“I taste her on you, Sammy,” Dean said.
“I want you to taste me, Dean, not her,” Sam answered.
Dean groaned at that idea and sunk to his knees. Sam had his jeans undone and around his hips by the time Dean was ready to swallow him down nearly to the root. Sam felt himself harden the rest of the way, extending towards the back of Dean’s throat, bumping into the soft tissue. He thrusted down into Dean who was taking him all the way in, sucking for all he was worth. Sam felt his balls beginning to draw up, but it was too soon for that. He pushed Dean gently off and grasped the base of his own cock firmly.
“No, want to come while you’re riding me, Dean.”
“So get on the damn bed then, already,” Dean said with a grin, standing back up in a graceful rush for someone who was so drunk, ripping off his clothes and pouncing on Sam who had barely enough time to undress himself and lay down on the bed.
Dean had already grabbed the lube and had a couple fingers headed back behind himself when Sam grabbed at his wrist.
“No, I want to,” Sam said, swiping the lube off of Dean’s fingers and pressing his own up into Dean. He felt Dean contracting and releasing, then opening up to his teasing. Dean wiped his messy hand on Sam’s cock, pulling in a rhythm that matched the movement of Sam’s fingers. Finally, Dean felt open enough so Sam lifted him closer into position over his lap.
Dean got his knees into the right places on either side of Sam’s slim hips, steadied Sam’s cock behind him and sunk down slowly, so slowly. One small thrust of Sam’s hips brought him past Dean’s rim. Dean gasped with the sharp pleasure and let himself down the rest of the way in a rush.
Sam stifled a yell at the feeling of tightness enveloping him so suddenly. He caught sight of Dean’s grin, he was much too pleased with himself so Sam thrusted up in a harsh jackhammer pattern that made Dean whoop with trying to stay on top of him. He laughed and grabbed for Sam’s hands on his own hips, holding bruise-tight and squeezing his thighs together to feel the power of his brother thrusting into him even more. He leaned forward onto Sam’s chest, both hands finding already hard nipples that he teased and pulled until Sam was writhing instead of thrusting. Sam knocked his hands away and flipped them both over.
Getting flipped like that, the air was knocked out of Dean and he didn’t care one bit, this was how he liked his Sam. It was always something to be taken by him like this. It wasn’t every time, but when it was, oh god, it was almost too much pleasure at once for one person to handle. There was a steady chanting noise in the room that Dean realized was him, he was making that stream of noise himself as Sam pounded into him at a furious pace. He wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips the best he could and held on to Sam’s powerful shoulders.
The feeling of all those muscles working and contracting all for him, for their pleasure, it was too much, it was too good, and it was all he ever wanted to feel, he didn’t ever want anything other than this pleasure, this pain, this connection, this joy and release all shared with the person he loved more than anything in this whole damn world. And Sam was laughing with that beautiful joyful sound so that meant that he had probably just spewed all that out loud which was just fine with him. Because Sam should know all of that by now, he was everything to him, Sam was his whole damn world.
Sam wasn’t laughing anymore, he had slowed down and was cradling Dean like he was an expensive piece of china. “Damnnit, Sam, I was almost there.”
“You…what you said. I had to stop. Had to tell you, it’s the same for me, Dean, absolutely. You are everything to me too. I don’t care what happens with Delphine as long as we can always have this together. You and me, that’s the only thing I really care about.” Sam began thrusting again, much more gently now.
“Really, Sammy?” Dean asked, like he’d never heard anything like this coming from Sam which was completely infuriating.
“Yeah, really, Dean, that’s what I want. How about you? That’s what you were saying just a few moments ago, right?”
“I was, I meant it, all of it, every word, just, c’mon, please,” Dean begged. And he hated that he begged, but he knew that Sam loved getting him there to this place where it was the only thing he could do. “Sammy, get me the rest of the way there, please.”
Sam grinned and leaned down to take Dean’s mouth as roughly as the sex had been before. Dean gasped into the kiss, fighting back against his brother’s power the best he could. But Sam was stronger and it was good that way, it was better being laid out like this sometimes. Sam nipped at his lips then down his throat and Dean squirmed and writhed on Sam’s cock, impaled and frictionless until Sam took pity on him, starting up the jackhammer that would get them there together.
It had been so long since Sam had done this, Dean had forgotten how good it was, how everything went black and then blue in his vision, even when his eyes were open, the sweat dripped off of Sam into his open mouth and he swallowed it down, that salty essence that was all Sam, at the basest, at the rawest, and oh god he could feel it, Sam all the way inside him, as deep as possible, the root of Sam hitting just past his rim, that perfect stopping point that flared all his nerve endings into this ball of delight and pleasure that rolled up his spine and it was coming out the top of his head, blowing everything black and then white.
Somewhere in there he heard the sounds of Sam coming and then taking care of him. He felt himself be cleaned off, the cold washcloth momentarily pulling him out of his pleasure haze. He mumbled as Sam rolled him under the covers and made sure he had the right pillows under his head that wouldn’t give him a neck ache in the morning.
“You take such damn good care of me, S’mmy. I’m s’posed to take care a’ you,” Dean slurred into the pillow.
He felt Sam’s hand land in his hair, scratching through gently to help him fall asleep. “No, it’s not always like that now, Dean. We take turns doing that, remember? Sleep now. We’ll talk about all the Delphine stuff tomorrow.”
“She’s a good kisser, huh S’mmy?”
“Yeah she is, you were right. Night, Dean, sleep now,” Sam said, patting his shoulder as he rose to leave.
“No, you stay, c’mon, S’mmy, please?”
Sam sighed, switched off the light, got back into their bed and Dean knew no more than depthless dreams of Amara calling to him, pulling him through all sorts of landscapes and weathers, deserts and forests, snow and rain and then she was there, always right there smack at the center of it all. But Sam was there too, because he’s the one in the center, not you! He felt himself tense up in his sleep, yelling at God’s sister because it was just a dream. She wouldn’t let him do that in real life. She’d eat him up whole like she’d threatened, and then what would happen to Sam? He can’t, he can’t go in there, into her, be absorbed, be taken over. He kicked and struggled and punched until a bright light blared into his eyes and he felt familiar strong hands on his shoulders shaking him.
“Dean! Wake up, c’mon, you have to wake up, she can’t have you like this!” Sam shouted. He sounded panicked, that made Dean come back to himself even more. He struggled to pull and tug and separate himself from her; it ached and every piece he tore away from her sticky darkness pulsed and burned. But he had to, had to come back to Sam. Sam was calling him, he needed him. Sam had to be the one at the center. Not you. Not you. I don’t want you, I only want Sam. I’m his, I’m not yours. Never yours.
Dean felt an angry push in the center of his chest force him backwards through the layers of landscapes and weather in reverse with dizzying speed as he fell back down into his body, wrecked and awake now with Sam flipping out on top of him. “I’m okay, Sammy. I’m back.”
“Where’d you go, Dean? What the hell was that?” Sam demanded in a panic.
“It was Amara, she got to me in my dream or something. She pulled me to her through deserts and forests, there was snow and rain and she was mad, so mad that I wanted you at the center of me, not her. And so she was going to just absorb me, like she threatened to before. She started to do it, and that’s when I heard you. It hurt, fuck it really hurt, Sam, to pull away from her. I had to tear myself apart to get away, to get back to you. Then she hurled me away from her back here into my body.”
“I thought we were safe here, what’s different?” Sam asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe the time-travel, or the Hand of God thing?” Dean suggested.
Sam didn’t say anything else then, just held Dean close and rearranged the covers over them both. Dean was glad for the silence so he could hear his brother’s heartbeat, slowing down back to normal as Sam’s hands stroked him gently, grounding him back into his body. He fell into dreamless sleep then, safe and secure in his brother’s arms.
Sam and Dean were both more than attracted to Delphine. They danced around the issue with each other for a few more very long days which drove Delphine nearly mad. She yelled at them both to leave her alone until they’d figured themselves out. It was too frustrating to be so close to having one of them, but having nothing, being so lonely, out of her time, confused about the world and not understanding this hunt for the Darkness.
She locked herself away in her room, studying the Winchester Gospels she had found online for clues about how to manage to survive these brothers and help them with the Darkness. Delphine had taken to computer research with amazing speed, and she was glad Sam had spent the time with her. The tablet she used almost all the time had been Charlie’s, and she could tell it both bothered the Winchesters and made them happy that she was using it. There were a few more entries to the ebook series of the Gospels left to read; maybe there would be some clues in the ones that detailed the time Dean had spent as a demon.
All the research and reading in the world wouldn’t take away the pain of missing her time, her friends in the Men of Letters that she’d known and trusted. This strange life in the future, stuck here in this underground bunker was so unreal and hard. But there was this possibility that she could feel was just out of reach, that at some point she could be happier here than she'd ever have been back in her time.
Part 4
“Sam, I’m taking Delphine out for some dinner, gonna show her around town for a little while. Just lettin’ you know,” Dean said to Sam’s closed door. He heard a mumbled okay from inside, and waited to see if Sam would add anything else. He sighed when there wasn’t anything else forthcoming. “Bye!” he called, then walked down the hall to knock on Charlie’s…no…it was Delphine’s door now. He still wasn’t used to it, and wished for what he knew wouldn’t be the last time that Sam had chosen another room for her to use.
She answered his knock quickly and he stepped back to take in the full view. She’d found some of the small amount of vintage women’s clothing in the bunker and chosen a beautiful sleeveless, navy blue silk dress, it had a long full skirt and it clung to her body in all the right places, showing off her trim figure. She looked powerful and alluring and he could see why she’d been able to charm the pants off a Nazi officer and completely fool him. She’d curled her hair somehow and it flowed in a beautiful gentle wave along the edges of her face and trailed down past her shoulders. The earrings that she wore were a tear drop shape, maybe a pearl and he wondered where she’d found them.
“Wow, Delphine, you clean up real good,” Dean said, offering her his arm.
“As do you, Mr. Winchester,” Delphine said with a smile, threading her arm through his. They walked through the halls and into the garage arm-in-arm.
As they approached the Packard, Dean stopped and dug in his jacket pocket, he pulled out a key ring and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“You wish me to drive?”
“I thought you might like to try it. If you don’t feel like it, we can do it another time. But it’s not full-dark out yet. I can drive us back later.”
“Oh, the dark is not the problem, I do not know the American rules of driving, or how they might be different in this time.”
“I’ll coach ya, don’t worry,” Dean said with a chuckle.
Delphine slid in behind the wheel and cranked the ignition on, the old car burst into life, rumbling noisy and powerful in the echoey garage. Dean directed her towards the exit and the small two-lane highway. He settled in as he grew comfortable with her driving. He’d never been able to drive the Packard very well, it was just so huge, and the steering was very different from any other car he’d driven. She seemed very at ease though, and even more beautiful to him behind the wheel.
“This is not so bad after all,” Delphine said, smiling wide.
There wasn’t much to impress Delphine with in the area of Kansas that they lived in, but Dean did his best, showing her the wide open plains outside of town, the grain elevator, the library and school, the kitschy Geographic Center of the USA that was of course closed at night. He promised they could come back if she absolutely felt it was necessary; and then it was on to the one restaurant that they tended to frequent for sit-down meals, it wasn’t a diner exactly, a small step up from that and it was near a small lake so there was always fresh fish on the menu. Tonight there were even mostly clean tablecloths on the tables. Dean was greeted by the staff, with questions about Sam and how he was. He introduced Delphine as a friend. She was polite to everyone, but he could tell her antiquated dress was definitely drawing some notice.
“I’ll take you out somewhere to get some clothes that will help you blend it a little better.”
“Is what I’m wearing a problem?” she asked.
“It’s not a problem for me, I think you look fantastic. But it is pretty different from what people wear now. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about much but I guess that styles have changed a lot from more than seventy years ago. I’d say though, that in some of the bigger cities, you could wear that dress, and probably people would think you were just someone who enjoyed wearing retro clothes.”
“I see, so it is because this is a small town, anything different catches the attention,” Delphine said. “It was just like that when I was on an undercover mission in the German countryside, I had to take care to dress down from normal city clothing.”
Dinner was nicely prepared trout and fresh vegetables, nothing fancy, but it was well-executed and Dean was happy to discover that Delphine enjoyed beer as much as he did.
“I thought for sure you’d be a wine drinker, isn’t that a French thing?”
“I enjoy wine also of course, but I came to enjoy beer during my time studying with the Men of Letters chapter in Paris. One of the older gentlemen there had a small brewing operation going in the basement. He claimed that the beer would prolong our lives due to the ingredients, but no one believed him. But look at me now? I would say I am doing quite well for a hundred and one year old.”
Dean sprayed the small amount of beer out of his mouth that he’d almost swallowed in surprise. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Let me,” Dean scrambled to wipe the spray of beer off her shoulder and the upper breast of her dress.
Delphine leaned towards him so he could get to it better and laughed. “I surprised you, I am sorry. I was just doing some figures in my head to see how old I was now.”
Dean’s hand paused it’s dabbing at the silk and rested just below her shoulder. His fingers brushed her collarbone gently as if he was searching for more beer spray, but she could tell he was just taking the opportunity to touch her skin.
“Dean, I heard you and Sam speaking about me today, and I need to inquire. What does it mean for you to ‘try for something with me?’”
Dean dropped his hand to his lap and studied it for a moment, then he looked up at her, hesitant and shy. “I’m so sorry you heard us talking like that. It’s…it means to try to have a romantic relationship with you. We were arguing about it like idiots, I apologize, it was really rude of us.”
“I appreciate your honesty, truly. And as I am a woman out of time, I can see the point of what you say. I would not be opposed to it, you are a very attractive man, Dean, as is Sam,” Delphine said leaning in closer and taking one of Dean’s hands in hers. She stroked it gently with her fingertips and looked into Dean’s eyes. “You do not really want this though, do you? You are only doing this because Sam insisted that you try.”
Dean dropped his head, the guilt at being figured out overwhelming. “You’ve only known me for a couple days and you already have me figured out. But, I’m not only doing this because of what Sam said. I think we could try for something, see how it works out between us. No pressure. It’s a weird time for both of us.”
Delphine laughed at that then, probably because it was weird to be sitting here in the middle of the United States seventy-three years in the future with this conflicted man who already loved another, with what he knew was his whole heart. Dean felt sorry for her then, that she was alone, and that even if she did want something with either of them, it wouldn’t ever be what he had with Sam.
“I should warn you, my past relationships have all been short-term, sometimes work-related even,” Delphine said.
“Just about all of mine have been extremely short-term, except for Sam of course.”
“Of course, Sam. It does come back to him, but he is not here with me is he? You are,” Delphine said with a mischievous grin that promised all sorts of trouble.
“That I am. Hey, I think we should get out of here, you up to driving back?”
“Absolutely, I am. Shall we?” Delphine said, standing up and holding out her hand. Dean took it, enfolding her small hand in his. It had been a while since he’d held a woman’s hand. He was used to Sam’s large paws, and they didn’t do much hand-holding, especially out in public.
Delphine started up the enormous car with a solid vroom and sped out of the parking lot just as Dean closed the door. He was thrown up against her side and just stayed there for a long moment while she giggled with the rush of adrenaline.
She turned to look at him and saw the conflicting need and indecision that was in his eyes and pulled off the road at the next opportunity, shutting the engine off and setting the brake.
“Dean, I want to…” Delphine said, losing track of her words as Dean moved closer.
He took her head in his hands and tilted it just slightly, brushing their lips together. It was warm and then slick. Her tongue was first to venture forth and he responded immediately, almost overpowering her with movement and heat. His hands in her hair were wonderful, pulling and stroking her in time with the movements of his lips and tongue. His hands moved down her neck and then her back pulling her even closer. She let herself take this from him, even if he was not quite ready to give it. It seemed like he needed at least to try. Once his hands lingered near her breasts she stilled him with a touch.
“That should be enough of a try-for-something for now, yes?” Delphine asked, regretting that she couldn’t pursue her desires to the obvious conclusion. There would be time for that, though, she was sure of it.
He nodded and slid back across the seat to his side of the car. She put it back into gear and headed back towards her strange new home.
Dean left her at her door with a kiss on both cheeks and a short hug. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her, but it seemed to almost overwhelm him judging by his body language as he walked away down the hall. She watched him stop at Sam’s door, knock quietly and say something she couldn’t quite hear. His shoulders sagged and he continued onto his own room.
She tossed and turned that night, debating about whether it was right to be getting in-between these men. She had figured out quite a lot about them as Dean had noticed, but she didn’t know everything. And she didn’t know enough about their history together to judge. She finally gave up on sleep and examined the contents of the bookshelf in her room. It was filled with small colorful books, some that seemed to be mostly cartoon pictures of people fighting outlandish monsters and each other. But then there were some that had two beautiful men on the front cover. The first one in the series looked like it would be short enough that it might help her pass some time or perhaps fall asleep. After devouring a second book she felt she knew the brothers much better now. And she had been right, they were brothers. It was all right there plainly in the books, the ones that were about their lives. Not raised as Men of Letters, just as Sam had said, but instead as hunters.
Delphine was still in bed, curled up with a third book when there was a knock at the door. She straightened herself up a bit and said, “Come in.”
Sam opened the door slowly and stuck his head into her room. “Delphine, you doing okay this morning? We didn’t see you for breakfast.”
“I did not have a good night of sleep, so I began reading some of the books that I presume were left here by your friend. They were quite entertaining,” Delphine said with a smile that gave away her amusement at Sam’s reaction when she held up the book cover so he could see what she’d been reading.
Sam blanched and then his cheeks turned a cherry red. “Oh god, I thought we threw those things out. It’s so embarrassing, you have no idea.”
“I am finding them very informative, and I believe I am more caught up on your modern world of hunting than I was earlier. But I must ask, are these books indeed inspired by your lives?”
“Uh..it’s a long story. And I know we say that a lot around here, but it is. There was a prophet named Chuck.”
“A prophet, akin to a biblical prophet?” Delphine interrupted.
“Yes, exactly. Apparently the way it works is that there is one on Earth at a time. As soon as one dies, the next on the list is brought up. And there is an actual list that all the angels somehow know. Weird right?”
“So what does this modern-day prophet have to do with the books in question?”
“He wrote them. He said he was compelled to write them, he couldn’t not. Our angel friend, Cas explained it as they would end up becoming ‘The Winchester Gospels’ which I personally think is ridiculous.”
“I would not be at all surprised, Sam. I have only skimmed the last ones, but the things that you have done, both of you, for the world? It is tremendous and inspiring and the way you love each other, it is like nothing I have ever heard of,” Delphine said, breathless in her inspiration.
Sam stood there frozen, as he no doubt realized what she now knew. “Uh…I don’t know what to say, besides thank you.”
“Now this friction between the two of you because of me makes a bit more sense. In your whole lives, no one and nothing has ever come between you, not for very long at least. You have always chosen each other, and I would imagine you will continue to do the same.”
“So you’re wondering why would we want to try for something with you?” Sam asked.
“It seems to make things rather complicated,” Delphine said.
“True, there isn’t a lot that’s worth that complication, but you seem like you are. It’s as simple as that,” Sam said. “So, if you would be interested, I would like to take you out tonight as my brother did last night.” Sam blushed, likely at asking so boldly and for using the word ‘brother’ as if it was assumed and discussed between them.
“Your brother took me to a restaurant where we ate very nice fish. Will we be going to the same place?”
“No, there’s somewhere else I think you’ll enjoy. It’s a bit of drive since as you have realized by now that we are truly in the middle of nowhere.”
“When do we leave, and what shall I wear?”
“Can you be ready in an hour? Dean said you found a dress, that’s probably fine.”
“He spilled beer on it,” Delphine said.
“Of course he did,” Sam said with a laugh, “do you need help finding something else?”
“There were more clothes in this closet, but I hesitated to wear them as they may have belonged to your friend.”
“Let me look. I think I remember giving Charlie all of the vintage women’s clothing that was here,” Sam said, opening the closet, from deep in the back he pulled out several garment bags that had Men of Letters logos stamped on them. “Here, these are some choices. If nothing works for you, just wear whatever’s comfortable, it’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”
Sam blushed again at that and ducked out the door.
Sam drove them to Kansas City, in the Impala. During the long drive, he told her about the car and how it had been their home for their whole life. It was just like she had just read in the book. He pulled up past a marquee for a movie theater, which read: NOW SHOWING Classic French Cinema
“I thought you might like to see a movie. This is a place I go sometimes when Dean is driving me nuts.”
“Is it really French cinema?” Delphine asked.
“Yes, you’ll have to ignore the subtitles which are for those of us too slow on French to make out all the dialogue.”
Sam bought them tickets and popcorn, and led Delphine to a good seat in the middle with a hand at the small of her back. He seemed to watch her more than the movie, but she tried to enjoy the experience of hearing her native language. Their hands brushed together on the armrest between them until Sam laid his arm across her shoulders. She felt safe, cuddled up against the side of his chest as they watched the rest of the film that made her miss her homeland and time more than anything.
After the movies they walked to a nearby cafe that had live jazz playing. She noticed that less of the city people seemed to be side-eyeing her attire and she felt more comfortable. A dinner of something called deep-dish pizza was a revelation to her tastebuds. She was surprised to find that she felt so happy as they walked along the nearly empty streets back to the Impala. It had been a long few days, but between the two brothers, they’d made her feel safe and comfortable, and so many other things.
After Sam unlocked her door and opened it, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around Sam and pulling him close. She kissed him just about exactly as much as she had kissed Dean. And it was so different, Sam was all power and energy and enthusiasm. It was like kissing an amorous whirlwind, she felt turned inside out once she pushed herself away. Sam looked dazed and worried at the same time, but not guilty, so that was something.
He had her back pressed against the Impala and it was hard to miss the impatient movements of his hips against her. She sighed, realizing that she had to stop things here, otherwise it would confuse them all more than she was willing to risk. With one hand on his chest she pushed him away, just slightly. His mouth was kiss-swollen, lips so pink and luscious she hated having to stop him. “Sam, I believe that was as far as we should take things tonight.”
He groaned, but smiled down at her quickly. “I get it, that’s fine. We should get back.” He helped her into the car, closed her door and walked around slowly. She could see that he was trying to adjust himself physically and mentally for the long ride home. They kept the conversation going though and it was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Sam Winchester’s agile mind was full of all kinds of bits of lore and knowledge, real lived experience that no Man of Letters she’d ever met had any chance at knowing.
When they finally returned to the Bunker much later that night, Sam kissed Delphine on the cheek at her door and held her tightly for a long moment. Then he headed to the library room to work on some research and maybe to have a drink. Instead he found Dean, slouched in one of the library chairs, a highball glass knocked over and empty on the table nearest to him. He was snoring lightly and his head was at a terrible angle. Sam couldn’t leave him like that, even if they were trying to avoid each other while they got this Delphine thing worked out. He touched Dean on the shoulder to wake him up.
“S’mmy, you’re back already?”
“Dude, it’s like one in the morning, and you’re sleeping in a chair all crunched up. C’mon, you should head to bed, okay?”
Dean stood up unsteadily and then fell forward into Sam. Sam had to catch him or let him fall, so he caught him, and when their bodies collided the inevitable sparks flared up between them.
Which of us is the flint, Sam briefly wondered as his mouth found its way to Dean’s, once they were attached at the lips, the rest of their bodies aligned according to the usual arrangement. It had been a while for both of them, so they were hard in an instant, both groaning as they ground against each other. Sam didn’t just want to come in his jeans like a teenager here in the middle of the library, so he led Dean off to Dean’s room which was farthest away from Delphine’s, hopefully she wouldn’t hear them. Because it was likely to get loud, Dean had always been the loudest when he was drunk.
Dean pushed him up against the door, closing and locking it. He kissed Sam like he was hunting for something that had been lost. Finally Sam realized he was tasting Delphine on his lips.
“I taste her on you, Sammy,” Dean said.
“I want you to taste me, Dean, not her,” Sam answered.
Dean groaned at that idea and sunk to his knees. Sam had his jeans undone and around his hips by the time Dean was ready to swallow him down nearly to the root. Sam felt himself harden the rest of the way, extending towards the back of Dean’s throat, bumping into the soft tissue. He thrusted down into Dean who was taking him all the way in, sucking for all he was worth. Sam felt his balls beginning to draw up, but it was too soon for that. He pushed Dean gently off and grasped the base of his own cock firmly.
“No, want to come while you’re riding me, Dean.”
“So get on the damn bed then, already,” Dean said with a grin, standing back up in a graceful rush for someone who was so drunk, ripping off his clothes and pouncing on Sam who had barely enough time to undress himself and lay down on the bed.
Dean had already grabbed the lube and had a couple fingers headed back behind himself when Sam grabbed at his wrist.
“No, I want to,” Sam said, swiping the lube off of Dean’s fingers and pressing his own up into Dean. He felt Dean contracting and releasing, then opening up to his teasing. Dean wiped his messy hand on Sam’s cock, pulling in a rhythm that matched the movement of Sam’s fingers. Finally, Dean felt open enough so Sam lifted him closer into position over his lap.
Dean got his knees into the right places on either side of Sam’s slim hips, steadied Sam’s cock behind him and sunk down slowly, so slowly. One small thrust of Sam’s hips brought him past Dean’s rim. Dean gasped with the sharp pleasure and let himself down the rest of the way in a rush.
Sam stifled a yell at the feeling of tightness enveloping him so suddenly. He caught sight of Dean’s grin, he was much too pleased with himself so Sam thrusted up in a harsh jackhammer pattern that made Dean whoop with trying to stay on top of him. He laughed and grabbed for Sam’s hands on his own hips, holding bruise-tight and squeezing his thighs together to feel the power of his brother thrusting into him even more. He leaned forward onto Sam’s chest, both hands finding already hard nipples that he teased and pulled until Sam was writhing instead of thrusting. Sam knocked his hands away and flipped them both over.
Getting flipped like that, the air was knocked out of Dean and he didn’t care one bit, this was how he liked his Sam. It was always something to be taken by him like this. It wasn’t every time, but when it was, oh god, it was almost too much pleasure at once for one person to handle. There was a steady chanting noise in the room that Dean realized was him, he was making that stream of noise himself as Sam pounded into him at a furious pace. He wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips the best he could and held on to Sam’s powerful shoulders.
The feeling of all those muscles working and contracting all for him, for their pleasure, it was too much, it was too good, and it was all he ever wanted to feel, he didn’t ever want anything other than this pleasure, this pain, this connection, this joy and release all shared with the person he loved more than anything in this whole damn world. And Sam was laughing with that beautiful joyful sound so that meant that he had probably just spewed all that out loud which was just fine with him. Because Sam should know all of that by now, he was everything to him, Sam was his whole damn world.
Sam wasn’t laughing anymore, he had slowed down and was cradling Dean like he was an expensive piece of china. “Damnnit, Sam, I was almost there.”
“You…what you said. I had to stop. Had to tell you, it’s the same for me, Dean, absolutely. You are everything to me too. I don’t care what happens with Delphine as long as we can always have this together. You and me, that’s the only thing I really care about.” Sam began thrusting again, much more gently now.
“Really, Sammy?” Dean asked, like he’d never heard anything like this coming from Sam which was completely infuriating.
“Yeah, really, Dean, that’s what I want. How about you? That’s what you were saying just a few moments ago, right?”
“I was, I meant it, all of it, every word, just, c’mon, please,” Dean begged. And he hated that he begged, but he knew that Sam loved getting him there to this place where it was the only thing he could do. “Sammy, get me the rest of the way there, please.”
Sam grinned and leaned down to take Dean’s mouth as roughly as the sex had been before. Dean gasped into the kiss, fighting back against his brother’s power the best he could. But Sam was stronger and it was good that way, it was better being laid out like this sometimes. Sam nipped at his lips then down his throat and Dean squirmed and writhed on Sam’s cock, impaled and frictionless until Sam took pity on him, starting up the jackhammer that would get them there together.
It had been so long since Sam had done this, Dean had forgotten how good it was, how everything went black and then blue in his vision, even when his eyes were open, the sweat dripped off of Sam into his open mouth and he swallowed it down, that salty essence that was all Sam, at the basest, at the rawest, and oh god he could feel it, Sam all the way inside him, as deep as possible, the root of Sam hitting just past his rim, that perfect stopping point that flared all his nerve endings into this ball of delight and pleasure that rolled up his spine and it was coming out the top of his head, blowing everything black and then white.
Somewhere in there he heard the sounds of Sam coming and then taking care of him. He felt himself be cleaned off, the cold washcloth momentarily pulling him out of his pleasure haze. He mumbled as Sam rolled him under the covers and made sure he had the right pillows under his head that wouldn’t give him a neck ache in the morning.
“You take such damn good care of me, S’mmy. I’m s’posed to take care a’ you,” Dean slurred into the pillow.
He felt Sam’s hand land in his hair, scratching through gently to help him fall asleep. “No, it’s not always like that now, Dean. We take turns doing that, remember? Sleep now. We’ll talk about all the Delphine stuff tomorrow.”
“She’s a good kisser, huh S’mmy?”
“Yeah she is, you were right. Night, Dean, sleep now,” Sam said, patting his shoulder as he rose to leave.
“No, you stay, c’mon, S’mmy, please?”
Sam sighed, switched off the light, got back into their bed and Dean knew no more than depthless dreams of Amara calling to him, pulling him through all sorts of landscapes and weathers, deserts and forests, snow and rain and then she was there, always right there smack at the center of it all. But Sam was there too, because he’s the one in the center, not you! He felt himself tense up in his sleep, yelling at God’s sister because it was just a dream. She wouldn’t let him do that in real life. She’d eat him up whole like she’d threatened, and then what would happen to Sam? He can’t, he can’t go in there, into her, be absorbed, be taken over. He kicked and struggled and punched until a bright light blared into his eyes and he felt familiar strong hands on his shoulders shaking him.
“Dean! Wake up, c’mon, you have to wake up, she can’t have you like this!” Sam shouted. He sounded panicked, that made Dean come back to himself even more. He struggled to pull and tug and separate himself from her; it ached and every piece he tore away from her sticky darkness pulsed and burned. But he had to, had to come back to Sam. Sam was calling him, he needed him. Sam had to be the one at the center. Not you. Not you. I don’t want you, I only want Sam. I’m his, I’m not yours. Never yours.
Dean felt an angry push in the center of his chest force him backwards through the layers of landscapes and weather in reverse with dizzying speed as he fell back down into his body, wrecked and awake now with Sam flipping out on top of him. “I’m okay, Sammy. I’m back.”
“Where’d you go, Dean? What the hell was that?” Sam demanded in a panic.
“It was Amara, she got to me in my dream or something. She pulled me to her through deserts and forests, there was snow and rain and she was mad, so mad that I wanted you at the center of me, not her. And so she was going to just absorb me, like she threatened to before. She started to do it, and that’s when I heard you. It hurt, fuck it really hurt, Sam, to pull away from her. I had to tear myself apart to get away, to get back to you. Then she hurled me away from her back here into my body.”
“I thought we were safe here, what’s different?” Sam asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe the time-travel, or the Hand of God thing?” Dean suggested.
Sam didn’t say anything else then, just held Dean close and rearranged the covers over them both. Dean was glad for the silence so he could hear his brother’s heartbeat, slowing down back to normal as Sam’s hands stroked him gently, grounding him back into his body. He fell into dreamless sleep then, safe and secure in his brother’s arms.
Sam and Dean were both more than attracted to Delphine. They danced around the issue with each other for a few more very long days which drove Delphine nearly mad. She yelled at them both to leave her alone until they’d figured themselves out. It was too frustrating to be so close to having one of them, but having nothing, being so lonely, out of her time, confused about the world and not understanding this hunt for the Darkness.
She locked herself away in her room, studying the Winchester Gospels she had found online for clues about how to manage to survive these brothers and help them with the Darkness. Delphine had taken to computer research with amazing speed, and she was glad Sam had spent the time with her. The tablet she used almost all the time had been Charlie’s, and she could tell it both bothered the Winchesters and made them happy that she was using it. There were a few more entries to the ebook series of the Gospels left to read; maybe there would be some clues in the ones that detailed the time Dean had spent as a demon.
All the research and reading in the world wouldn’t take away the pain of missing her time, her friends in the Men of Letters that she’d known and trusted. This strange life in the future, stuck here in this underground bunker was so unreal and hard. But there was this possibility that she could feel was just out of reach, that at some point she could be happier here than she'd ever have been back in her time.
Part 4