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justinedelargeTitle: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 55: Into the Light
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest; mild daddy!kink roleplaying
Word Count: 8300
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Checking in with all main players; demons try to encourage the dark side of Sam to come out; lots and lots of sex; Sam makes a stunning realization.
The common room was silent. Danny wiped down the kitchen countertop with a dish cloth. Juliane was asleep, stretched out on the couch by the fire, reduced to embers pulsing orange and deep red, crackling as they cooled. Danny watched her slow and steady breathing, rubbing the cloth in the same circle over and over. Finally, he walked quietly into the living room, tugged the chenille throw off the back of the padded armchair and draped it over her. She did not stir. Her breathing remained even. He reached down and nestled a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear, knuckles lightly grazing the skin over her high cheekbone. “Merry Christmas.” His voice was as soft as his touch. He left quietly, heading to his own apartment down the hall, glancing over his shoulder one more time at her, then drew the door shut behind him with a faint click.
Juliane opened her eyes, and brought her hand to her cheek, staring wide-eyed at the closed door.
~
Bobby hunched over his desk, books and papers strewn in an untidy heap in front of him, taking notes on a legal pad. Propped up against the green-glass banker’s lamp was a framed photo of a younger Sam and Dean in front of a school baseball field, grass stains on their uniforms, Bobby’s arms around their shoulders.
Upstairs, John tossed and turned, blankets kicked down to his ankles, the air ripe with the sour, sickly-sweet tang of alcohol sweating out of his system.
~
Azazel leaned back in his recliner with his feet up in front of the fire, a Café Diablo in his hands, and an eminently self-satisfied smile on his face. The soles of his shoes were stained with blood.
~
Reggie lay fully dressed on top of the motel room bed, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a scrap of paper in the other. He took another drink and exhaled heavily, eyeing the phone warily. Then he picked up the receiver and called the number written on the paper. He spoke softly, a note of apology in his voice, his wrinkles made more pronounced by the nervousness tightening his face. The man on the other end of the line spoke, and Reggie’s face softened, lines fading away, a surprisingly shy smile baring his strong white teeth.
~
Sam and Dean lay naked under the blankets, enveloped in peaceful sleep, Sam’s topmost arm and leg thrown over Dean like an affectionate Labrador. Dean nestled against Sam as close as possible to soak up the heat Sam gave off like a radiator.
~
Outside the Jaeger motel, a few hundred feet away from the sleeping pair, the dark-haired man in a grey suit sat in a silver sedan, engine idling, heat pushed to the maximum. A pretty blonde teenager sat in the passenger seat. Both of them patiently watched the motel entrance. Staring with hell-black eyes.
Waiting.
~
Dean awoke to Sam’s mouth on his neck and his cock, erect and eager, pressing against his hip. He stirred, groaning, and Sam’s hand moved to his own cock, already hard and ready for him. Dean reached for the lube and squeezed. A few drops were all that remained. He smeared it onto the underside of his cock and turned so they were facing each other on their sides. Their cocks touched, and they both groaned. Not caring about morning breath, Dean pulled Sam in for a slow, sweet kiss. Bodies pressed together, they ground against each other, taking their time. Dean turned them so he was on top, rubbing against Sam slow and sensual, brushing his hair out of his face and kissing him. Sam moaned into his mouth, crying out at the feel of Dean pressing against him everywhere, sliding against him, his balls, huge and heavy, against his own. Sam rocked his hips up, holding their cocks together in his hands so they slotted against each other perfectly. Despite Sam’s wordless urging with hands and sounds, Dean kept it slow, rubbing against Sam like he could keep at it all day.
Sam flipped Dean onto his back, grinding against him faster.
“Love it when you take charge, Sammy.” Dean gripped Sam’s ass.
Sam’s mouth twitched. “Ok.” He sat up, straddling Dean, rutting against him, right hand gripping their cocks. Dean bit his lip, trying not to come first, but when Sam slid his other hand up his own chest and pinched his nipple, eyes fluttering shut, he couldn’t hold back. He jerked beneath Sam, guttural cries punched out of him with each spasm, spilling out warm and slick onto his belly and all over Sam’s cock.
“Fuck.” Sam smeared Dean’s come over their shafts, sliding over him more easily, hard and slippery. Wrapping both hands around their cocks once again, Sam’s hips pumped forward faster. “Dean. Oh god, Dean.” Dean groaned. The only thing better than the sound of his name in Sam’s mouth was the way he said it when he came.
Came for him.
Without conscious volition, Dean found himself stroking Sam’s flanks and murmuring, “Good boy.” And Sam gasped, threw his head back, stretching his thighs wide apart, gripping their cocks tight, and came hard, cheeks flushed crimson, pink mouth agape.
Dean lay back and witnessed the force of nature that was Sam in the throes of an orgasm, the way his chest flushed as red as his cheeks, the thick white come spurting from his cock, porn-star perfect, how the muscles of his thighs and stomach flexed and fluttered. And the sounds. Oh god, the sounds.
“Beautiful,” Dean whispered.
Sam’s eyes flashed open in surprise and joy and even a little pride. He stroked his hand down his chest to his stomach, watching Dean watch him, drinking in the appreciation in Dean’s eyes.
“Beautiful,” Dean said again, unashamed, and drew Sam down into a kiss.
Soon, the demands of full bladders and empty stomachs drove them from the warmth of their bed. Dean cleaned them off in the bathroom with a warm, soapy washcloth. Sam blinked like a sleepy cat as Dean took care of him. “If you try to put my clothes on me again, I’m gonna dress you right back.”
Dean’s mouth twitched in a repressed smile. “Ok.”
They dressed each other, smiles melting into laughter sliding into play wrestling ending with them on the bedroom floor, disheveled and pink-faced.
“Coffee.” Dean straightened his t-shirt.
“Right. Coffee.”
Sam started a pot of coffee, and surveyed the meager contents of the cupboards and refrigerator. “We need to go shopping.”
They drank their coffee quickly, and Dean grabbed a stack of cash from the bag. Sam called ahead to Juliane to let them know they were coming through, and when the hall was clear, they came down into the common room.
“Hey, we’re gonna head out to the grocery store. You want to come with?” Sam asked Juliane. Her gaze dropped, just for a second. “No, thanks. I’ll stay here.” Danny popped up from under the sink, where he was doing something to the pipes.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll buy you stuff.” Sam was in a playful mood.
“I, uh. I don’t go out.”
Sam and Dean looked at her, confused. Danny said nothing, leaving it up to Juliane.
Juliane pulled her hair back. “I don’t leave the compound.” She glanced at Danny. “He takes care of getting whatever we need from outside.” She gave him an apologetic smile.
“You don’t go out…ever?” Sam raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged. “I go outside. In the parking lot. But not outside the salt line.”
Sam reached his hand out, touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. Soft. Unthreatening. “How long?”
She closed her eyes. “I know. It’s crazy.”
“How long?” Sam repeated gently.
“Since I got out of the hospital. I…it just doesn’t go well when I try.”
Sam nodded. “I get it.”
Her shoulders dropped as she blew out the tense breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I know you do.”
Sam kept the mood light. “Ok, so what can we get you at the store?”
Juliane tried to protest, but Sam insisted. She made a small list for him.
They drove to an Albertson’s Dean had spotted on the way to Marie Callendar’s. Sam stared out the window, lost in thought.
“Sam?”
Sam blew out a breath. “She’s helping me. Maybe I can help her.”
Dean ruffled Sam’s hair.
Sam ducked his head, but the grin in his face said he didn’t really mind that much. “What was that for?”
“You’re kinda awesome.”
“You’re kinda hot.” Sam gave him a look. One of those looks.
“Really? We just…already?”
“Yeah.” Sam looked out the window, and then glanced back at Dean. “I could do that with you all day.”
Dean pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Noted.” After a beat, he said, “We could just pull over. Behind that building. Probably no one would see us.”
Sam blushed. “Dean. I meant…not in the car.”
Dean grinned.
“What?”
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not.” Sam flipped the visor down and examined his face in the mirror. “Crap.”
As they bantered and flirted, the silver sedan followed at a discreet distance. Dean pulled into a parking spot, and the sedan parked a few spaces away.
Inside the grocery store, Dean let Sam push the cart. They headed down the cereal aisle first. Out of habit, Sam reached for the cheaper, store-brand cereal. Dean put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Put that back.” Sam glanced at him in surprise. “Get the good kind. The kind you like.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “Sam. We can buy whatever we want.” Dean touched his jeans pocket, where the thick wad of money bulged.
Sam stared at Dean like it was Christmas Day all over again. “We can?”
“We can.”
Sam threw his head back and laughed, throwing his hands up in the air in the quirky way he’d done since he was a little kid. Then he grabbed the most expensive box of cereal, with oats and almond clusters and blueberries, and a fancy bag of granola, the kind with a foil label and a ribbon on top. Dean picked out a box of Captain Crunch, and French Toast Crunch. Sam put his foot on the bottom of the cart and pushed off, propelling himself down the aisle, heading toward the dairy aisle.
Dean grabbed the largest brick of Tillamook Cheddar cheese they had.“Remember that government cheese we used to get in Wisconsin? That stuff was really good.”
Sam nodded, both of them remembering all the government cheese that wasn’t: rubbery-textured loaves that tasted different from one brick to another because it was processed from leftover bits of other cheese, only tolerable in a grilled cheese sandwich.
Dean remembered it all. The trips to the store where he had to keep a running tally in his head, including the tax, so they weren’t embarrassed by coming up short at the checkout counter. Buying generic fruit punch powder. Generic corned beef. Generic macaroni and cheese that tasted like sweet, chalky orange glop because they couldn’t afford the luxury of real Kraft in the blue box. Mealy apples from discount stores, canned ravioli with gristly, chewy “beef,” chili thinned with water to make it stretch. Going hungry so Sam got enough to eat.
Dean remembered all too well.
Sam put two dozen eggs into the cart, reached for a package of bacon, and hesitated. Dean reached over Sam, picked up two packages of bacon and tossed them in the cart. “Sammy. It’s ok.”
Sam stared at Dean, memories of discount orange drink and bologna sandwiches on stale white bread welling up within his mind. Dean took his hand. “Come on.” He flashed Sam his best, brightest Dean Winchester smile.
He dragged Sam to the meat section. He perused the selection, and finally found what he was looking for. He picked up two packages of filet mignon steaks and put them in the cart.
Sam’s eyes were huge. He shook his head, like he was still having trouble believing it. Then he leaned over and selected two packages of double-cut bone-in rib-eyes.
“That’s my boy,” Dean said.
Sam ran—he actually ran—toward the fish section, and came back with two lobster tails.
Dean frowned. Sam’s face fell. “No, it’s fine. I just…I don’t know how to cook that stuff, Sammy.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Sam’s face lit up again.
They went up and down the aisles, getting everything they ever stared at with longing and wished they could buy: smoked oysters, olives, peppered salami, pastrami, smokehouse almonds, chocolate marshmallow Pinwheel cookies, Goldfish crackers, chocolate pudding cups… Sam put in gourmet mustard, fancy Asian sauces, things he didn’t even know what they were but was curious to find out. And fresh food, because they’d lived their whole life on food that was canned, boxed or takeout, except for when they went to stay with Bobby. They filled their cart with the best, freshest fruits and vegetables, and had to get a second one. Dean pushed it down the beverage aisle, stocking it with name-brand sodas, not generic ones, and ginger ale because that was Sam’s favorite. They turned the corner and found themselves in the wine, beer and spirits aisle.
They stared at each other, identical smiles spreading across their faces. Dean had a flawless fake ID declaring him to be 22. Dean surveyed the long aisle bristling with bottles. “Oh yeah.”
As Dean picked out the nicest bottle of Bourbon they had, the dark-haired man in the grey suit came into the aisle pushing a cart. He glanced at the boys and the contents of their carts. “Having a party?”
They turned in unison. “How’d you guess?” Dean flashed his best smile, guaranteed to charm, and defuse suspicion.
The man smiled affably. “Know what the secret is to a great party? Adios Motherfuckers.”
Dean snorted. “Ok. You have my attention.”
“Best drink on the planet. Loosens everybody right up. No worries, no hang-ups. Just fun in a glass. It gets the ladies all giggly. Wild, you know?” The man glanced at Sam. “Boys too, if that’s your thing.” Sam straightened up, muscles tensing, his expression wary. Dean immediately stepped in closer. Protectively.
The man took a step back, laughing a bit too loud. “Sorry. I just…you two looked like you were together. I didn’t mean to… um, I’m sorry if I…” He backpedaled so fast and earnestly, Dean took pity on him. “So how do you make an Adios Motherfucker?”
The man told them how to make it: four types of hard alcohol, one type of liqueur, sweet and sour, and Sprite. Dean cocked his head to the side appraisingly, knowing how much Sam loved candy drinks. Giggly. And wild, you know? “What the hell.”
The man grinned wide, his perfect white teeth standing out in the fluorescent light. “That is exactly what I always say. What the hell.”
The man continued down the aisle and before he disappeared around the corner, he called over his shoulder, “Have fun, you two!”
Dean found space in the cart for the all the bottles of hard alcohol, flavorings and mixers the specialty drink called for. Sam picked out some expensive bottles of Cabernet. “For the steak.” Suddenly Sam stopped in his tracks. “Oh. Almost forgot.”
He ran down to the health care aisle and came back with tubes of KY, a bottle of massage oil, Alka-Seltzer, and Pepto-Bismol.
“Now it’s a party.” Dean glanced to either side to see if anyone was watching them. He didn’t spot anyone. “I fucking love you.” He stole a kiss. Sam’s eyes flashed wide open in surprise.
“What else do we need? Maybe…candy?” Dean watched Sam’s expression, waiting for it. Sam lit up like he’d said they were going to Disneyland, and Dean’s smile in response was dizzying. They pushed their carts down the aisle.
The teenage girl was picking out tortilla chips from the end cap, and smiled at Dean as he rounded the corner first—and her smile widened as she got her first glimpse of Sam.
And Sam was startled to see her, curvy but fit, dark blonde hair, and green eyes almost exactly the same shade as Dean’s. Her eyes widened as she took in the contents of their carts. Sam blinked rapidly at the sight of her, looking from Dean to her and back again, stunned by the resemblance.
“Frat party?”
Sam replied before Dean could get a word in. “Actually, we’re picking up stuff for the firehouse.”
Her eyes got even wider, her gloss-covered mouth parting, revealing a glimpse of white teeth and a bubblegum-pink tongue. “You’re…firemen?” Her gaze moved quickly up and down, taking in their musculature evident even beneath their winter clothing, but most of her attention was locked on Sam.
Dean brought his hand down on Sam’s shoulder in a manly smack. “Damn straight. This here’s the probie.” Sam’s height always made him appear several years older than he was, and his quick-witted cover story was quite plausible for their physical condition and way of moving.
The blonde tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “That’s so cool! My uncle’s a firefighter in Provo.” She stepped closer to Sam, so close he could smell her strawberry lip gloss.
“Really?” Dean’s smile seemed perfectly friendly, but the gravelly rumble in his boice implied she was treading on dangerous ground. “That’s so interesting. Hey, we gotta finish up here and get back to the house. The probie’s got dinner to make.” Dean pulled Sam tight against him.
Sam gave Dean a look, but Dean just grinned. “Take care now, honey.” He steered Sam away from the girl, toward the candy aisle.
After a beat, the dark-haired man appeared behind her. “He didn’t bite?”
“Shockingly, no. Those two are fucking joined at the hip. You can’t even see daylight between them. The girlsuit’s no good here.”
“I told you to dress more whorish.” The man gave her attire, body-skimming but not slutty, a contemptuous look.
“And I told you that was the wrong play for this one. If girl’s not his thing, slutty girl’s definitely not his thing. He’s still too…pure.”
The man laughed. “That won’t last long. Not once his blood activates.”
The blonde bit her lip, watching Sam walk away. “I really hope he wins.”
The man shot her a sidelong glance. “You can’t wait to service him, can you?”
She sighed. “I want to scream for my King.” The smile that snaked across her face was far older and infinitely more corrupt than the body that wore it. “I want him to fucking tear me apart.”
~
To get to the candy section, they had to pass through the cookie section, where Dean did a tremendous amount of damage to his future cardiovascular health. Sam went equally nuts in the candy section, grabbing bags of Gummi bears, chocolate bars by the handful, Jaw Breakers, Bottle Caps, and one of each of whatever looked interesting that he’d never tried before. He put so much candy in the cart that Dean could not hold back a small frown.
“I’m not going to eat it all at once, Dean.”
Dean gave Sam a stern look. “You are not going to get the diabetes. Not on my watch.”
“You can work it off me.” Sam shifted his weight from one leg to another, emphasizing the tight musculature of his ass without him being consciously aware he was doing it.
“Deal.” Dean tore his eyes away from Sam’s nether region and caught sight of the AstroPops in the cart. His eyes flashed up to Sam’s mouth. “Hmm. Yeah. That’ll work.”
Sam saw what he was looking at, and his mouth fell open, which didn’t help things any. And then Dean noticed the Pop Rocks, and raised his eyebrow. Sam gave him a quizzical look.
Dean smirked. “You don’t know?”
“What?”
“Oh, this is gonna be good.”
“Dean. Tell me.”
“Uh-uh, baby boy.” Sam bit his lip, blowing out his breath through his nose. Dean leaned close and whispered, “Gonna show you.”
~
Their carts were so heavy they had to put real effort into pushing them toward the checkout line. Thankfully there weren’t a huge number of shoppers, because it took twenty minutes just to ring up all their items. Sam’s jaw dropped at the total that appeared on the register, but Dean counted out the cash without hesitation, face alight with what Sam realized was pride. At being able to do this for Sam. At not being broke.
They loaded up the car with all the bags. When Sam went to return the carts to the corral, the blonde girl was walking past on her way out, holding a plastic bag with her purchases. She paused, eyeing Sam. From the car, Dean’s eyes shot daggers at her. She smiled, a little sadly. “So…he’s your boyfriend?”
Sam nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Dean.
“You guys ever go to Sassy’s?”
“What’s that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like, the gay club in town? It’s so cool. You can dance, or not dance, or whatever. Nobody cares. You can just be yourself.”
Sam looked over at Dean, suddenly imagining it vividly: Dean pressing him up against the wall, kissing him in public, just two boys in a roomful of people who didn’t care that they were kissing each other. Suddenly he wanted to go so bad it was a physical ache in his chest.
The girl read the expression on Sam’s face, and her mouth twitched with satisfaction. “Sixth and Harrison. Oh, and it’s 18 and up, so you’re totally good.”
He turned his attention back to her. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up at him. “Um, so… this is totally blunt, but…you’re sure you’re just into guys?”
Sam laughed, and looked at her with a hint of pity in his eyes. “I’m just into him.” He jerked his head towards Dean, tapping his fingernails on the car roof impatiently.
She shrugged, mouth forming into a little pout of disappointment. “That’s too bad.” She dropped her eyes and looked up at him again through her thick eyelashes, a sudden surge of desire changing her features, transforming innocence to something wild and hungry, and a bit frightening.
Suddenly Sam winced, raising his hand to his head, as the vision unfolded within his brain. A circular room lit with torches, marked with symbols, lined with men and women with hell-black eyes. A woman stepped forward and prostrated herself before him, uttering two words.
“Regem puerum,” Sam whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
The girl recoiled in shock, her eyes flashing black for a split-second. Sam did not see it, and her face was blocked by Sam’s body, so Dean did not see it either. Eyes normal again, she looked over Sam’s shoulder to Dean, waving to him. Dean came over in a half-run. Sam swayed on his feet, and Dean held him up. “You ok?”
“Head hurts,” Sam choked out.
From his car parked further down the row, the dark-haired man waved at the blonde girl. “Shoot. That’s my Dad. I gotta go.”
Dean gripped Sam tighter. “I got him.”
She seemed at a loss for words. “Um… feel better?” Sam waved, not looking at her, and she spun on her heels and bounced off towards their car.
“Come on. Let’s get back. Get some food into you.” He steered Sam to the car and settled him in the front seat.
Sam sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing his temples, the pain subsiding. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. “I’m good.”
“It’s gone?”
“Yeah.” Sam seemed as surprised as Dean.
Dean shook his head, blowing out a breath of relief. “That was weird.”
“Dean. It wasn’t just a headache. I… I saw something.”
Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel like he did when he got anxious.
“I…don’t know. She asked if you were my boyfriend, and I said yes.” Dean smiled. “And she asked if we ever went to this gay club in town, and if I was really just into guys.” Dean blinked slowly, chewing on his lower lip, biting back hard on the flare of jealousy. But Sam noticed.
“What’d you say?” Dean tried to act casual, but the jittery energy sparking off him was palpable.
Sam took Dean’s hand. “I said I was just into you.”
Dean scrutinized Sam’s face intently. “Really?”
“I told you. I’m not into girls like that. And I don’t think of other guys like that. Just you.”
Dean dropped his head, blowing out a heavy breath. Then he looked up at Sam, a glint in his eye. “So. You’re definitely not straight, but you’re not gay either. You’re…Deansexual.”
Sam burst out laughing, and shoved his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. I’m Deansexual.”
Dean grinned like he’d just proved the Riemann hypothesis.
“Anyway. So. She looked really disappointed—”
“My heart bleeds,” Dean said dryly.
“—and then this headache happened, like a spike in my eye going into my brain, and I…I saw…”
Dean just held Sam’s hand, letting the silence stretch out, waiting for Sam to be ready to explain what he saw.
“Demons. A room full of demons. Surrounding me.”
Dean sucked in a sharp breath.
Sam gripped Dean’s fingers hard. “But they weren’t attacking me, or holding me prisoner or anything. They were…it’s like they were worshipping me.”
Dean’s head jerked up in surprise.
“And then one of them said something. Regem puerum.”
Dean frowned, thinking. “…Boy King?”
Sam gave a little laugh, pretending like he wasn’t scared. “See, I told you you were smart.”
The flash of pride and surprise (the surprise breaking Sam’s heart like it always did when he saw how Dean had believed the bad things people had said to him) on his face was followed by a micro-expression of concern which he quickly camouflaged. But Sam noticed.
Dean folded Sam into his arms, holding him as tight as he could without hurting him. “I got you, Sammy.” The phrase soothed Sam as it always did when Dean spoke those words to him, trusting them utterly. “I don’t know what that was all about, but we’ll figure it out. Bobby’ll know something. Or he’ll find out. Ok?” Sam nodded, muscles tense. Dean shoved the tingle of fear down deep (something about Boy King scared the hell out of him), and kissed Sam on the forehead. “Hey. The ice cream’s melting.” That brought a smile to Sam’s face. “Let’s go back and get all this shit stowed, and get some breakfast in you.” Dean rummaged through some bags until he found the package of string cheese, and they each ate three of them on the way back to the motel to take the edge off their hunger.
Back at the hotel, they enlisted Danny’s help to bring all the supplies in. He brought out a huge flat wagon cart with raised sides, and it still took two trips to bring everything inside. They handed off the things Juliane had put on her list, and a few extra things Sam had put in the cart to surprise her. Then they made their excuses and disappeared into their apartment.
Dean shut the door behind them. Once the lock snicked shut, Dean backed Sam up against the door, pushing his hips against him hard, gripping Sam’s hair and claiming his mouth with a deep kiss. Sam made a small sound of surprise, and moved against him, cock filling with blood, twitching against Dean’s thigh.
“Didn’t like how she looked at you, Sammy.” Sam made a soft little sound of pleasure. “You’re mine.” Dean tipped Sam’s head to the side, exposing his neck. “Fucking mine.” He sucked on Sam’s skin hard, demanding, bringing blood surging to the surface. Sam moaned and arched his back, tipped his head back more, baring his neck to Dean. Dean purred his approval. He moved back just a bit, so his body was just an inch away from Sam, hands on Sam’s shoulders pressing him against the wooden door, just looking at him, green eyes gone dark with desire. Being looked at like that made Sam shiver. He canted his hips forward, trying to make contact again.
Dean chuckled, a soft, sensual sound rich with promise, biting his lower lip at the sight of Sam, cheeks already gone pink, hazel eyes wide, wanting him so badly. “Go get yourself ready.” He brought his hands down Sam’s sides and cupped his ass, thrusting his cock right up against Sam’s. “I want to fuck you.” He stared at Sam’s parted mouth, swiping his tongue over his lower lip, and then met his gaze again. “You want me to fuck you, baby boy?”
Sam’s cock jerked, straining against his jeans, twitching against Dean’s cock. Dean laughed again. “That’s a yes?”
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
The hunger on Dean’s face made him look feral, dangerous. Sam loved it.
“Yes what?” Dean retracted his hips again, holding himself back so Sam could feel the heat from his body but not feel him. “What’s the magic word?”
“Whatever you want it to be.” Sam closed his eyes for a moment. Hey, Sammy? Anything you ever want to try. I’m down. No limits. I mean it. He opened his eyes, met Dean’s gaze, dared to keep going. “Please. Sir. Master.” Trust me. “Daddy.”
Dean’s palms slammed against the door hard on either side of Sam’s head as he lunged at Sam, pinning him against the door, devouring his mouth, shaking as he ground his cock against Sam’s, pumping his hips uncontrollably, wrapping his fingers in Sam’s hair. Shaking.
Coming.
Dean losing it like that so fast, so completely made Sam fly apart too, coming in his pants, crying out into Dean’s mouth as Dean’s come soaked through the front of his jeans, smacking his head as he involuntarily threw it back as the orgasm peaked, thrashing in Dean’s grasp. Dean gripped his ass and held him tight against him, still twitching and jerking and coming himself.
Finally, their shuddering stilled. Dean pushed Sam’s hair out of his face and pressed his forehead against Sam’s. “Jesus fucking Christ, Sammy,” he whispered. “Fucking hell.”
Dean could feel the question forming in Sam’s mind before it even made it into words. “Yeah, that was ok. That was totally ok.” He rubbed his thumb over Sam’s jaw. “Anything you and I do together is good. You know why?”
Sam waited for the answer.
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Because we love each other so fucking much it makes it ok. No matter how out there or kinky it is.” He kissed Sam, slow and sweet and so thoroughly Sam felt dizzy. Finally, he pulled back and nuzzled Sam’s neck. His voice was a whisper. “Besides, I know you never called him Daddy in your life.”
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and squeezed hard, relief washing over him in a flood. Dean got it. He understood.
“Not a damn thing wrong with you, Sammy.” Dean hugged Sam just as hard. “Don’t you think that for a second.” Dean swiped his thumb over Sam’s cheek, wiping away the tear trailing down his face. “Besides, just wait ‘till I tell you about some of the stuff I want to do with you. All kinds of things.”
Sam stared at Dean, rapt. “Like what?”
Dean closed his eyes. Even knowing what he’d said to Sam, what they had between them, it was still hard. But Sam had just trusted him, made himself so vulnerable. He had to step up. “Ok. Here’s one. I want to suck you off while people watch.” He kept his eyes closed. “I just…I want people to see. Us. Together. To not have to hide.” He dared to open his eyes.
Sam was smiling, eyes wet. “Yes. We can…we can do that.”
Dean swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Damn, I cry a lot.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Sammy.” The vulnerability bled into his voice, soft, almost a whisper. “I need to be inside you. Can—“
Sam pressed his lips to Dean’s, soft and warm, lips parted, the tip of his tongue ghosting into Dean’s mouth gently. “Just give me a minute.” He squeezed Dean’s hand, then got the special bag from the bedroom went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower.
Dean stashed the frozen items and the vodka in the empty freezer, nearly filling it, and put the perishable food in the refrigerator. They’d bought so much, he was barely able to fit it all in, and had to leave the eggs and most of the fruit on the counter. Once the food was safely put away, Dean stripped his clothes off in the kitchen and wiped himself off with a damp wad of paper towels, then walked naked into the bedroom, bringing the lube and massage oil with him.
Sam came in, damp toweled-dry hair clinging to his face, and crawled up onto the bed next to Dean. “How do you want me?”
Dean shook his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear to god.” He pulled Sam down, rolled on top of him. “I want you every way. All of them.”
Sam looked up into those green eyes. “Do it. Anything.” His words sent a shiver through Dean. “I mean it. Anything. Just like you said.”
Dean sat back, unsnapped the cap on the KY and slicked up his cock. Sam spread his thighs wide, letting Dean see everything.
“You get yourself ready for me, baby boy?”
Sam’s breath hitched. “Yeah.”
Dean shoved Sam’s thighs apart wider, pushing his hips back, and sealed his mouth over Sam’s hole. Sam moaned as Dean lapped at him, lifted his hips up so his back was perpendicular to the bed, ass high in the air, cock pointed down. Dean swore at the sight, smacked his palms down on Sam’s ass, and rimmed him like it was the best thing he’d ever done with his tongue. He licked Sam open, coaxing his tight pink rim to soften and open to him, making greedy little sounds that made Sam’s toes curl.
“Only you,” Sam gasped. “No one’s ever going to do that to me but you.”
Dean moaned, his mouth sealed over Sam, eyes the color of the sea during a storm. He raised his head. “Damn straight. You’re mine.” He stretched Sam open with his thumbs on either side, and plunged his tongue inside him as deep as he could get it.
“Yours,” Sam whispered, shaking, shivering, dancing on Dean’s tongue.
Dean slid his hand, still slick with lube, over Sam’s cock, thumb moving over the sensitive spot at the base of the head. Sam cried out, and then again, louder, as Dean took hold of his cock in earnest, stroking it, tugging at Sam’s balls, squeezing the shaft from the base to the head, milking him. “Dean. You’re gonna make me come.”
Dean squeezed the base of Sam’s cock with a soft chuckle. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He lowered Sam’s hips, hooked his arms under Sam’s knees, pressing them back, and brought himself to Sam’s entrance. “And not like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.” He pressed against Sam, barely breaching him. “Just my cock. Can you do that for me?”
Sam wriggled, trying to take Dean deeper inside me. “Yeah.”
Dean watched Sam’s face intently, and said, “That’s my good boy.”
Sam reacted immediately, making a primal, guttural sound and arching his back, desperate for Dean to enter him. “Come on. Please…”
Dean rubbed the pad of his thumb over Sam’s lower lip. “Please…what?”
The electricity in the air was almost palpable. Sam bit his lip, hesitant, not sure he was ready to go over that cliff.
“It’s ok, Sammy. Just you and me. It’s safe. We’re just playing. Doesn’t mean anything more than that. Anything we want to do, or say, or wear, or pretend, it’s all good.” Dean kissed the hollow of Sam’s throat. “I love you. Get it? You’re perfect and pure and mine, and I want to make you feel good.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue probing, insisting Sam let him in. “Besides… it’s not just you. I want to.” Dean’s breathing was ragged. “You fucking made me come just by saying it.” Dean’s pupils were blown wide, cock so hard and engorged it was dark red. “Sammy. Say it.”
Sam swallowed hard, and putting his trust in Dean, surrendered to it. “Please, daddy.”
Dean shuddered. With a groan, he pushed into Sam in one long thrust, burying himself inside him to the hilt. “Wanted to go slow. Stay inside you for hours. But there’s no way. You’re just…fuck.”
Sam’s body stretched to accommodate Dean’s cock like he was born to do it, like he was made just for Dean. Dean licked into Sam’s mouth with a moan, driving into Sam deep and hard, hips rising and falling. Sam stretched his arms over his head, sucked on Dean’s tongue, surrendering to Dean completely, a feeling of elation filling him as he realized that saying it didn’t make him feel dirtybadwrong. It made him feel lighter. Clean. More pure. Because he confessed something scary to Dean, and Dean accepted it, loved him even more for it, gave him what he needed. He took what Sam thought was his dirty little secret and brought it out into the light, revealed it to be nothing dangerous, just a little spice to change the flavor of what they had together.
Sam laughed with the joy of it. The freedom. The knowledge that he could ask Dean to try anything now. Anything at all. “Your cock feels so good, daddy.”
Dean laughed too. “Yeah, baby boy? You like it?” Dean’s smile was blinding. He fucked into Sam like he’d never done before, twisting and driving in, back muscles standing out thick and strong. “You like it when daddy fucks you?”
“Yes,” Sam hissed, shuddering to hear Dean say it for the first time, taking hold of Dean’s face with both hands, making him look him in the eyes. “Say it again.”
Dean’s mouth fell open at the look on Sam’s face, infinite love and keen need, and so much trust it nearly undid him. “Come on. Show daddy how much you love it.” He sat on his heels and pulled Sam forward, still impaled on him, lifting his hips up, angling him so his shoulders and feet were pressed flat on the mattress.
Sam arched up, weight on his shoulders and heels, waggling his hips up and down, riding Dean’s cock fast and hard as Dean held steady, letting Sam fuck himself on Dean’s cock. “You’re taking it so good for me. Such a good boy.”
“Fuck, daddy, feels so good…” Sam worked himself hard and fast, panting and writhing, but after a few moments, he whimpered because the angle wasn’t right to go as hard as he wanted. “More. Please. Harder, daddy.”
“You want it harder?” Sam nodded furiously. “Show me.” Dean lifted Sam up into his lap, knees on the mattress, and put his arms around Dean’s neck. “Ride my cock, sweetheart. Show me how hard you like it.”
Sam rose and fell on Dean’s cock, fucking himself hard, sweet little sounds of satisfaction issuing from his throat.
“Ah, that’s my boy,” Dean purred.
Sam moaned at the praise, brought Dean’s index and middle fingers into his mouth, and sucked on them, sliding his mouth back and forth on them in perfect sync with the rise and fall on Dean’s cock.
“Jesus, Sam.” Dean leaned back on his free hand, watching Sam, unfettered and uninhibited, giving himself over to Dean, so alive with the pleasure of it.
“Gonna make me come, daddy.”
Dean’s mouth fell open, unable to even formulate words now. He just nodded, sliding his hands up Sam’s back, pulling him down harder, rotating his hips in circles as Sam slid up and down on his cock.
“Jesus. Daddy. Dean. Oh god. Dean.” The last word came out as a sob.
“Sam. Come for me.” Dean pushed every ounce of command voice he had into those three words. And Sam obeyed instantly, crying out, spilling over Dean’s belly, coming untouched on Dean’s cock. He twitched and writhed like a wild thing, like the pleasure was screaming through his whole body, controlling every part of it, demanding outlet not just through the fluid spurting from him or the cries that thickened into a scream but through movement of his whole body, a whirlwind of kinetic energy.
In the midst of the storm that was Sam coming apart for Dean, Sam milked Dean’s orgasm out of him. Dean’s back curled, every muscle in his body contracting, fueling his release, shooting deep inside Sam, dissolving into him, guttural cries punched out of him. He could feel Sam pulling it out of him, drinking it up inside him, kicking his own orgasm to a higher plane, one where sound and motion no longer were relevant. Sam stilled, threw his head back, mouth open, the cords of his neck standing out.
For a split second, Dean thought he saw light shoot out of Sam, explode outward from his forehead and throat, spike from the top of his head and the base of his tailbone; he even thought he actually felt physical heat shooting through his body from light pouring from Sam’s chest, belly button and cock. But then his vision whited out completely. The only thing that existed was Sam, and him.
~
When Dean came to, he was still inside Sam, still on his knees, slumped forward against Sam, Sam leaning against him limp and boneless, balancing each other out so they did not collapse.
He lifted Sam up, laid him back on the bed, slipping out of him in the process. Sam stirred with a sound of complaint. “Shhh… I’m right here.” He grabbed one of the towels on the bedside table to clean Sam up so there wouldn’t be much of a wet spot. Oddly, all there was to clean up was a bit of lube, despite Dean having spilled what felt like all the fluid in his body into Sam.
He did collapse then, at Sam’s side. He put his head on Sam’s chest, listening to Sam’s even breathing, the strong pulses of his heartbeat, and before he knew it, he was as fast asleep as Sam.
Sam dreamed he was naked inside a car wash with no roof. Dean was there, fully clothed. He put a hand on the small of Sam’s back. “It’s ok, Sammy.” Dean gently urged Sam to walk forward. He moved slowly, like a car on tracks being pulled through the structure. Pipes in the walls sprayed soapy water on him, great flapping things pelted him softly like being licked by a wiggle of puppies. From above, a sudden burst of rain, gleaming droplets illuminated by the bright sun overhead, burst from cloudless skies and poured over him, through him, tickling as it rained inside his body. He felt something inside him, something sticky and not right, dissolve and melt away. The rain ceased and warm puffs of air blew over him, water droplets on his skin flying off, his wet hair lifted, caressed by the air currents, and dried. At the far end of the structure, Dean stood waiting for him, hand extended to him, sunlight bringing out the gold in his hair and the emerald of his eyes. Sam looked down at his bare feet. Serpentine coils of a black substance slid down the drain, washed away by the clear water.
He raised his head, walked outside into the sun and slipped his hand into Dean’s.
~
They slept until the rumbling of their empty stomachs prodded them awake. “Starving,” Dean murmured. “Food.”
“We have food,” Sam said sleepily.
“We have food,” Dean echoed in a groggy voice. “Dude.” He sat upright, eyes huge. “We have food.”
They threw on comfortable sweats and sweatshirts (Sam muttering about how it was about time they did some laundry), and Dean insisted on making what he called Huge Food. He manned the bacon skillet, cooking up an entire package. Sam put together a fat omelet with spinach and cheddar, standing next to Dean at the range, bumping hips with him playfully. Dean liked spinach, the way Sam did it: cooked just enough to wilt but not turn slimy and grey. And with cheese. They ate the entire omelet and half of the bacon.
Then Dean brought down the cereal. “Stage two.”
Sam groaned, but accepted a bowl of Captain Crunch. Dean turned on the TV and tossed the remote to Sam. “Whatever you want.”
Sam blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like Dean to cede control of the remote. “So, I guess you liked that?”
Dean took Sam’s cereal bowl from his hands and set it on the coffee table. Suddenly serious, he placed his palms on Sam’s face and drew him in for a kiss, all coffee and bacon and sweetness. “That was awesome. You. Are awesome. Like…literally.” The reverence on Dean’s face made it clear he actually knew the true meaning of his favorite word, and was not using it lightly. Sam blinked, basking in the praise but embarrassed by it.
Sam flipped through the channels and settled on a documentary about the Zulus. Dean didn’t even roll his eyes, just sat next to Sam eating his Captain Crunch, one handful at a time sprinkled into the bowl of milk, so it stayed as crisp as possible.
The narrator spoke:…”The Zulus have long suffered from a condition called kwashiorkor. This Ghanaian word literally means ‘older brother’ and this disease of malnutrition is caused by a previously nourished child no longer receiving adequate sustenance once a new baby arrives. Living in poverty, the mother does not have sufficient food to nurse two children, and the older child is weaned abruptly. Without other food to eat, the older sibling slowly starves. This differentiates kwashiorkor from marasmus, in which the child experiences starvation from birth…”
Dean was startled by the clatter of Sam dropping his spoon into the bowl and setting it down on the coffee table.
Sam stared at Dean, a horrified realization dawning on him.
“Sam?”
“You.” Sam’s mouth worked, as though reluctant to actually form the words. “You gave it all to me. Didn’t you?”
Dean frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Sam leaned forward. “All those times. You gave me all the food we had. You said you weren’t hungry.” You go ahead, Sam. I don’t feel like eating. “You said you already ate.” I ate mine on the way, Sammy. This one’s for you. Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t true. If there wasn’t enough for both of us to eat, you didn’t tell me…you just gave it all to me.”
Dean tried to play it off. “Sam, it wasn’t like that.”
“Yes. It was. And…” Sam wiped his face on his sleeve. “And that’s why I’m already as tall as you.”
“You’re not as tall as me—“
“Yes I am.” And Sam was. Dean just hadn’t been ready to admit that quite yet.
“People are always saying it’s weird that I’m so tall already, and I’m gonna be so much taller than you. And that’s why… because…” Sam’s voice was choked. “Because you didn’t get enough to eat when we were kids because you gave it to me.”
Dean had nothing. Because there was nothing to say. Because Sam was right.
Sam saw the truth of it in Dean’s eyes. His face twisted, and he crumpled into Dean’s arms. Sam sobbed like he was being torn apart, like his heart was bursting in his chest.
Dean struggled to hold him, a wet, convulsing mass of limbs and floppy hair. “Sammy. It’s ok. I’m fine. Look at me. I’m plenty tall. I’m big and strong. I’m fine.”
“You were actually malnourished, Dean! That’s not fine. You went hungry. All the time. Because of me.”
“Damn straight,” Dean said with pride, the admission finally driven out of him. “Damn straight I did. And I’d do it all over again. Sam. Don’t you get it? You come first.” Dean swallowed hard, trying not to cry himself. “You always came first.”
This just made Sam cry harder, contorting in Dean’s lap. He sobbed for a long time, unable to form words. Finally, he started to calm enough to speak again. “And I was… god, Dean, I was such a little brat. Always bugging you for more. I want more cereal.’How come we don’t have hamburgers like everyone else? Dean, I want more. He started to sob again, fists tangled in Dean’s sweatshirt. “I was such—“he hiccupped “—a little shit.” His sobs amped up, incoherent, so broken, so anguished that Dean’s tears flowed finally in sympathetic, involuntary response.
“Sammy…please don’t cry. It kills me when you cry.”
Sam took a deep breath, trying to force the sobs into submission. For Dean. “You starved. So I wasn’t hungry.” He raised his hand to Dean’s cheek, wiping his tears away with his thumb clumsily, tugging at the skin. “Because you…”
“Because I love you.” Dean smiled at Sam, a fresh tear spilling from his eyes.
Sam knew Dean loved him. Dean always took care of him. Stood up to Dad for Sam. He had even killed for Sam. Dean loved him with his hands and mouth and his whole body. Sam thought he knew exactly how much Dean loved him. But now as he looked at Dean, his heart broke as he understood fully for the first time all that those three words really meant.
Author:
justinedelargeFandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest; mild daddy!kink roleplaying
Word Count: 8300
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters.
Summary: Checking in with all main players; demons try to encourage the dark side of Sam to come out; lots and lots of sex; Sam makes a stunning realization.
The common room was silent. Danny wiped down the kitchen countertop with a dish cloth. Juliane was asleep, stretched out on the couch by the fire, reduced to embers pulsing orange and deep red, crackling as they cooled. Danny watched her slow and steady breathing, rubbing the cloth in the same circle over and over. Finally, he walked quietly into the living room, tugged the chenille throw off the back of the padded armchair and draped it over her. She did not stir. Her breathing remained even. He reached down and nestled a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear, knuckles lightly grazing the skin over her high cheekbone. “Merry Christmas.” His voice was as soft as his touch. He left quietly, heading to his own apartment down the hall, glancing over his shoulder one more time at her, then drew the door shut behind him with a faint click.
Juliane opened her eyes, and brought her hand to her cheek, staring wide-eyed at the closed door.
~
Bobby hunched over his desk, books and papers strewn in an untidy heap in front of him, taking notes on a legal pad. Propped up against the green-glass banker’s lamp was a framed photo of a younger Sam and Dean in front of a school baseball field, grass stains on their uniforms, Bobby’s arms around their shoulders.
Upstairs, John tossed and turned, blankets kicked down to his ankles, the air ripe with the sour, sickly-sweet tang of alcohol sweating out of his system.
~
Azazel leaned back in his recliner with his feet up in front of the fire, a Café Diablo in his hands, and an eminently self-satisfied smile on his face. The soles of his shoes were stained with blood.
~
Reggie lay fully dressed on top of the motel room bed, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a scrap of paper in the other. He took another drink and exhaled heavily, eyeing the phone warily. Then he picked up the receiver and called the number written on the paper. He spoke softly, a note of apology in his voice, his wrinkles made more pronounced by the nervousness tightening his face. The man on the other end of the line spoke, and Reggie’s face softened, lines fading away, a surprisingly shy smile baring his strong white teeth.
~
Sam and Dean lay naked under the blankets, enveloped in peaceful sleep, Sam’s topmost arm and leg thrown over Dean like an affectionate Labrador. Dean nestled against Sam as close as possible to soak up the heat Sam gave off like a radiator.
~
Outside the Jaeger motel, a few hundred feet away from the sleeping pair, the dark-haired man in a grey suit sat in a silver sedan, engine idling, heat pushed to the maximum. A pretty blonde teenager sat in the passenger seat. Both of them patiently watched the motel entrance. Staring with hell-black eyes.
Waiting.
~
Dean awoke to Sam’s mouth on his neck and his cock, erect and eager, pressing against his hip. He stirred, groaning, and Sam’s hand moved to his own cock, already hard and ready for him. Dean reached for the lube and squeezed. A few drops were all that remained. He smeared it onto the underside of his cock and turned so they were facing each other on their sides. Their cocks touched, and they both groaned. Not caring about morning breath, Dean pulled Sam in for a slow, sweet kiss. Bodies pressed together, they ground against each other, taking their time. Dean turned them so he was on top, rubbing against Sam slow and sensual, brushing his hair out of his face and kissing him. Sam moaned into his mouth, crying out at the feel of Dean pressing against him everywhere, sliding against him, his balls, huge and heavy, against his own. Sam rocked his hips up, holding their cocks together in his hands so they slotted against each other perfectly. Despite Sam’s wordless urging with hands and sounds, Dean kept it slow, rubbing against Sam like he could keep at it all day.
Sam flipped Dean onto his back, grinding against him faster.
“Love it when you take charge, Sammy.” Dean gripped Sam’s ass.
Sam’s mouth twitched. “Ok.” He sat up, straddling Dean, rutting against him, right hand gripping their cocks. Dean bit his lip, trying not to come first, but when Sam slid his other hand up his own chest and pinched his nipple, eyes fluttering shut, he couldn’t hold back. He jerked beneath Sam, guttural cries punched out of him with each spasm, spilling out warm and slick onto his belly and all over Sam’s cock.
“Fuck.” Sam smeared Dean’s come over their shafts, sliding over him more easily, hard and slippery. Wrapping both hands around their cocks once again, Sam’s hips pumped forward faster. “Dean. Oh god, Dean.” Dean groaned. The only thing better than the sound of his name in Sam’s mouth was the way he said it when he came.
Came for him.
Without conscious volition, Dean found himself stroking Sam’s flanks and murmuring, “Good boy.” And Sam gasped, threw his head back, stretching his thighs wide apart, gripping their cocks tight, and came hard, cheeks flushed crimson, pink mouth agape.
Dean lay back and witnessed the force of nature that was Sam in the throes of an orgasm, the way his chest flushed as red as his cheeks, the thick white come spurting from his cock, porn-star perfect, how the muscles of his thighs and stomach flexed and fluttered. And the sounds. Oh god, the sounds.
“Beautiful,” Dean whispered.
Sam’s eyes flashed open in surprise and joy and even a little pride. He stroked his hand down his chest to his stomach, watching Dean watch him, drinking in the appreciation in Dean’s eyes.
“Beautiful,” Dean said again, unashamed, and drew Sam down into a kiss.
Soon, the demands of full bladders and empty stomachs drove them from the warmth of their bed. Dean cleaned them off in the bathroom with a warm, soapy washcloth. Sam blinked like a sleepy cat as Dean took care of him. “If you try to put my clothes on me again, I’m gonna dress you right back.”
Dean’s mouth twitched in a repressed smile. “Ok.”
They dressed each other, smiles melting into laughter sliding into play wrestling ending with them on the bedroom floor, disheveled and pink-faced.
“Coffee.” Dean straightened his t-shirt.
“Right. Coffee.”
Sam started a pot of coffee, and surveyed the meager contents of the cupboards and refrigerator. “We need to go shopping.”
They drank their coffee quickly, and Dean grabbed a stack of cash from the bag. Sam called ahead to Juliane to let them know they were coming through, and when the hall was clear, they came down into the common room.
“Hey, we’re gonna head out to the grocery store. You want to come with?” Sam asked Juliane. Her gaze dropped, just for a second. “No, thanks. I’ll stay here.” Danny popped up from under the sink, where he was doing something to the pipes.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll buy you stuff.” Sam was in a playful mood.
“I, uh. I don’t go out.”
Sam and Dean looked at her, confused. Danny said nothing, leaving it up to Juliane.
Juliane pulled her hair back. “I don’t leave the compound.” She glanced at Danny. “He takes care of getting whatever we need from outside.” She gave him an apologetic smile.
“You don’t go out…ever?” Sam raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged. “I go outside. In the parking lot. But not outside the salt line.”
Sam reached his hand out, touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. Soft. Unthreatening. “How long?”
She closed her eyes. “I know. It’s crazy.”
“How long?” Sam repeated gently.
“Since I got out of the hospital. I…it just doesn’t go well when I try.”
Sam nodded. “I get it.”
Her shoulders dropped as she blew out the tense breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I know you do.”
Sam kept the mood light. “Ok, so what can we get you at the store?”
Juliane tried to protest, but Sam insisted. She made a small list for him.
They drove to an Albertson’s Dean had spotted on the way to Marie Callendar’s. Sam stared out the window, lost in thought.
“Sam?”
Sam blew out a breath. “She’s helping me. Maybe I can help her.”
Dean ruffled Sam’s hair.
Sam ducked his head, but the grin in his face said he didn’t really mind that much. “What was that for?”
“You’re kinda awesome.”
“You’re kinda hot.” Sam gave him a look. One of those looks.
“Really? We just…already?”
“Yeah.” Sam looked out the window, and then glanced back at Dean. “I could do that with you all day.”
Dean pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Noted.” After a beat, he said, “We could just pull over. Behind that building. Probably no one would see us.”
Sam blushed. “Dean. I meant…not in the car.”
Dean grinned.
“What?”
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not.” Sam flipped the visor down and examined his face in the mirror. “Crap.”
As they bantered and flirted, the silver sedan followed at a discreet distance. Dean pulled into a parking spot, and the sedan parked a few spaces away.
Inside the grocery store, Dean let Sam push the cart. They headed down the cereal aisle first. Out of habit, Sam reached for the cheaper, store-brand cereal. Dean put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Put that back.” Sam glanced at him in surprise. “Get the good kind. The kind you like.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “Sam. We can buy whatever we want.” Dean touched his jeans pocket, where the thick wad of money bulged.
Sam stared at Dean like it was Christmas Day all over again. “We can?”
“We can.”
Sam threw his head back and laughed, throwing his hands up in the air in the quirky way he’d done since he was a little kid. Then he grabbed the most expensive box of cereal, with oats and almond clusters and blueberries, and a fancy bag of granola, the kind with a foil label and a ribbon on top. Dean picked out a box of Captain Crunch, and French Toast Crunch. Sam put his foot on the bottom of the cart and pushed off, propelling himself down the aisle, heading toward the dairy aisle.
Dean grabbed the largest brick of Tillamook Cheddar cheese they had.“Remember that government cheese we used to get in Wisconsin? That stuff was really good.”
Sam nodded, both of them remembering all the government cheese that wasn’t: rubbery-textured loaves that tasted different from one brick to another because it was processed from leftover bits of other cheese, only tolerable in a grilled cheese sandwich.
Dean remembered it all. The trips to the store where he had to keep a running tally in his head, including the tax, so they weren’t embarrassed by coming up short at the checkout counter. Buying generic fruit punch powder. Generic corned beef. Generic macaroni and cheese that tasted like sweet, chalky orange glop because they couldn’t afford the luxury of real Kraft in the blue box. Mealy apples from discount stores, canned ravioli with gristly, chewy “beef,” chili thinned with water to make it stretch. Going hungry so Sam got enough to eat.
Dean remembered all too well.
Sam put two dozen eggs into the cart, reached for a package of bacon, and hesitated. Dean reached over Sam, picked up two packages of bacon and tossed them in the cart. “Sammy. It’s ok.”
Sam stared at Dean, memories of discount orange drink and bologna sandwiches on stale white bread welling up within his mind. Dean took his hand. “Come on.” He flashed Sam his best, brightest Dean Winchester smile.
He dragged Sam to the meat section. He perused the selection, and finally found what he was looking for. He picked up two packages of filet mignon steaks and put them in the cart.
Sam’s eyes were huge. He shook his head, like he was still having trouble believing it. Then he leaned over and selected two packages of double-cut bone-in rib-eyes.
“That’s my boy,” Dean said.
Sam ran—he actually ran—toward the fish section, and came back with two lobster tails.
Dean frowned. Sam’s face fell. “No, it’s fine. I just…I don’t know how to cook that stuff, Sammy.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Sam’s face lit up again.
They went up and down the aisles, getting everything they ever stared at with longing and wished they could buy: smoked oysters, olives, peppered salami, pastrami, smokehouse almonds, chocolate marshmallow Pinwheel cookies, Goldfish crackers, chocolate pudding cups… Sam put in gourmet mustard, fancy Asian sauces, things he didn’t even know what they were but was curious to find out. And fresh food, because they’d lived their whole life on food that was canned, boxed or takeout, except for when they went to stay with Bobby. They filled their cart with the best, freshest fruits and vegetables, and had to get a second one. Dean pushed it down the beverage aisle, stocking it with name-brand sodas, not generic ones, and ginger ale because that was Sam’s favorite. They turned the corner and found themselves in the wine, beer and spirits aisle.
They stared at each other, identical smiles spreading across their faces. Dean had a flawless fake ID declaring him to be 22. Dean surveyed the long aisle bristling with bottles. “Oh yeah.”
As Dean picked out the nicest bottle of Bourbon they had, the dark-haired man in the grey suit came into the aisle pushing a cart. He glanced at the boys and the contents of their carts. “Having a party?”
They turned in unison. “How’d you guess?” Dean flashed his best smile, guaranteed to charm, and defuse suspicion.
The man smiled affably. “Know what the secret is to a great party? Adios Motherfuckers.”
Dean snorted. “Ok. You have my attention.”
“Best drink on the planet. Loosens everybody right up. No worries, no hang-ups. Just fun in a glass. It gets the ladies all giggly. Wild, you know?” The man glanced at Sam. “Boys too, if that’s your thing.” Sam straightened up, muscles tensing, his expression wary. Dean immediately stepped in closer. Protectively.
The man took a step back, laughing a bit too loud. “Sorry. I just…you two looked like you were together. I didn’t mean to… um, I’m sorry if I…” He backpedaled so fast and earnestly, Dean took pity on him. “So how do you make an Adios Motherfucker?”
The man told them how to make it: four types of hard alcohol, one type of liqueur, sweet and sour, and Sprite. Dean cocked his head to the side appraisingly, knowing how much Sam loved candy drinks. Giggly. And wild, you know? “What the hell.”
The man grinned wide, his perfect white teeth standing out in the fluorescent light. “That is exactly what I always say. What the hell.”
The man continued down the aisle and before he disappeared around the corner, he called over his shoulder, “Have fun, you two!”
Dean found space in the cart for the all the bottles of hard alcohol, flavorings and mixers the specialty drink called for. Sam picked out some expensive bottles of Cabernet. “For the steak.” Suddenly Sam stopped in his tracks. “Oh. Almost forgot.”
He ran down to the health care aisle and came back with tubes of KY, a bottle of massage oil, Alka-Seltzer, and Pepto-Bismol.
“Now it’s a party.” Dean glanced to either side to see if anyone was watching them. He didn’t spot anyone. “I fucking love you.” He stole a kiss. Sam’s eyes flashed wide open in surprise.
“What else do we need? Maybe…candy?” Dean watched Sam’s expression, waiting for it. Sam lit up like he’d said they were going to Disneyland, and Dean’s smile in response was dizzying. They pushed their carts down the aisle.
The teenage girl was picking out tortilla chips from the end cap, and smiled at Dean as he rounded the corner first—and her smile widened as she got her first glimpse of Sam.
And Sam was startled to see her, curvy but fit, dark blonde hair, and green eyes almost exactly the same shade as Dean’s. Her eyes widened as she took in the contents of their carts. Sam blinked rapidly at the sight of her, looking from Dean to her and back again, stunned by the resemblance.
“Frat party?”
Sam replied before Dean could get a word in. “Actually, we’re picking up stuff for the firehouse.”
Her eyes got even wider, her gloss-covered mouth parting, revealing a glimpse of white teeth and a bubblegum-pink tongue. “You’re…firemen?” Her gaze moved quickly up and down, taking in their musculature evident even beneath their winter clothing, but most of her attention was locked on Sam.
Dean brought his hand down on Sam’s shoulder in a manly smack. “Damn straight. This here’s the probie.” Sam’s height always made him appear several years older than he was, and his quick-witted cover story was quite plausible for their physical condition and way of moving.
The blonde tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “That’s so cool! My uncle’s a firefighter in Provo.” She stepped closer to Sam, so close he could smell her strawberry lip gloss.
“Really?” Dean’s smile seemed perfectly friendly, but the gravelly rumble in his boice implied she was treading on dangerous ground. “That’s so interesting. Hey, we gotta finish up here and get back to the house. The probie’s got dinner to make.” Dean pulled Sam tight against him.
Sam gave Dean a look, but Dean just grinned. “Take care now, honey.” He steered Sam away from the girl, toward the candy aisle.
After a beat, the dark-haired man appeared behind her. “He didn’t bite?”
“Shockingly, no. Those two are fucking joined at the hip. You can’t even see daylight between them. The girlsuit’s no good here.”
“I told you to dress more whorish.” The man gave her attire, body-skimming but not slutty, a contemptuous look.
“And I told you that was the wrong play for this one. If girl’s not his thing, slutty girl’s definitely not his thing. He’s still too…pure.”
The man laughed. “That won’t last long. Not once his blood activates.”
The blonde bit her lip, watching Sam walk away. “I really hope he wins.”
The man shot her a sidelong glance. “You can’t wait to service him, can you?”
She sighed. “I want to scream for my King.” The smile that snaked across her face was far older and infinitely more corrupt than the body that wore it. “I want him to fucking tear me apart.”
~
To get to the candy section, they had to pass through the cookie section, where Dean did a tremendous amount of damage to his future cardiovascular health. Sam went equally nuts in the candy section, grabbing bags of Gummi bears, chocolate bars by the handful, Jaw Breakers, Bottle Caps, and one of each of whatever looked interesting that he’d never tried before. He put so much candy in the cart that Dean could not hold back a small frown.
“I’m not going to eat it all at once, Dean.”
Dean gave Sam a stern look. “You are not going to get the diabetes. Not on my watch.”
“You can work it off me.” Sam shifted his weight from one leg to another, emphasizing the tight musculature of his ass without him being consciously aware he was doing it.
“Deal.” Dean tore his eyes away from Sam’s nether region and caught sight of the AstroPops in the cart. His eyes flashed up to Sam’s mouth. “Hmm. Yeah. That’ll work.”
Sam saw what he was looking at, and his mouth fell open, which didn’t help things any. And then Dean noticed the Pop Rocks, and raised his eyebrow. Sam gave him a quizzical look.
Dean smirked. “You don’t know?”
“What?”
“Oh, this is gonna be good.”
“Dean. Tell me.”
“Uh-uh, baby boy.” Sam bit his lip, blowing out his breath through his nose. Dean leaned close and whispered, “Gonna show you.”
~
Their carts were so heavy they had to put real effort into pushing them toward the checkout line. Thankfully there weren’t a huge number of shoppers, because it took twenty minutes just to ring up all their items. Sam’s jaw dropped at the total that appeared on the register, but Dean counted out the cash without hesitation, face alight with what Sam realized was pride. At being able to do this for Sam. At not being broke.
They loaded up the car with all the bags. When Sam went to return the carts to the corral, the blonde girl was walking past on her way out, holding a plastic bag with her purchases. She paused, eyeing Sam. From the car, Dean’s eyes shot daggers at her. She smiled, a little sadly. “So…he’s your boyfriend?”
Sam nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Dean.
“You guys ever go to Sassy’s?”
“What’s that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like, the gay club in town? It’s so cool. You can dance, or not dance, or whatever. Nobody cares. You can just be yourself.”
Sam looked over at Dean, suddenly imagining it vividly: Dean pressing him up against the wall, kissing him in public, just two boys in a roomful of people who didn’t care that they were kissing each other. Suddenly he wanted to go so bad it was a physical ache in his chest.
The girl read the expression on Sam’s face, and her mouth twitched with satisfaction. “Sixth and Harrison. Oh, and it’s 18 and up, so you’re totally good.”
He turned his attention back to her. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up at him. “Um, so… this is totally blunt, but…you’re sure you’re just into guys?”
Sam laughed, and looked at her with a hint of pity in his eyes. “I’m just into him.” He jerked his head towards Dean, tapping his fingernails on the car roof impatiently.
She shrugged, mouth forming into a little pout of disappointment. “That’s too bad.” She dropped her eyes and looked up at him again through her thick eyelashes, a sudden surge of desire changing her features, transforming innocence to something wild and hungry, and a bit frightening.
Suddenly Sam winced, raising his hand to his head, as the vision unfolded within his brain. A circular room lit with torches, marked with symbols, lined with men and women with hell-black eyes. A woman stepped forward and prostrated herself before him, uttering two words.
“Regem puerum,” Sam whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
The girl recoiled in shock, her eyes flashing black for a split-second. Sam did not see it, and her face was blocked by Sam’s body, so Dean did not see it either. Eyes normal again, she looked over Sam’s shoulder to Dean, waving to him. Dean came over in a half-run. Sam swayed on his feet, and Dean held him up. “You ok?”
“Head hurts,” Sam choked out.
From his car parked further down the row, the dark-haired man waved at the blonde girl. “Shoot. That’s my Dad. I gotta go.”
Dean gripped Sam tighter. “I got him.”
She seemed at a loss for words. “Um… feel better?” Sam waved, not looking at her, and she spun on her heels and bounced off towards their car.
“Come on. Let’s get back. Get some food into you.” He steered Sam to the car and settled him in the front seat.
Sam sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing his temples, the pain subsiding. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. “I’m good.”
“It’s gone?”
“Yeah.” Sam seemed as surprised as Dean.
Dean shook his head, blowing out a breath of relief. “That was weird.”
“Dean. It wasn’t just a headache. I… I saw something.”
Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel like he did when he got anxious.
“I…don’t know. She asked if you were my boyfriend, and I said yes.” Dean smiled. “And she asked if we ever went to this gay club in town, and if I was really just into guys.” Dean blinked slowly, chewing on his lower lip, biting back hard on the flare of jealousy. But Sam noticed.
“What’d you say?” Dean tried to act casual, but the jittery energy sparking off him was palpable.
Sam took Dean’s hand. “I said I was just into you.”
Dean scrutinized Sam’s face intently. “Really?”
“I told you. I’m not into girls like that. And I don’t think of other guys like that. Just you.”
Dean dropped his head, blowing out a heavy breath. Then he looked up at Sam, a glint in his eye. “So. You’re definitely not straight, but you’re not gay either. You’re…Deansexual.”
Sam burst out laughing, and shoved his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. I’m Deansexual.”
Dean grinned like he’d just proved the Riemann hypothesis.
“Anyway. So. She looked really disappointed—”
“My heart bleeds,” Dean said dryly.
“—and then this headache happened, like a spike in my eye going into my brain, and I…I saw…”
Dean just held Sam’s hand, letting the silence stretch out, waiting for Sam to be ready to explain what he saw.
“Demons. A room full of demons. Surrounding me.”
Dean sucked in a sharp breath.
Sam gripped Dean’s fingers hard. “But they weren’t attacking me, or holding me prisoner or anything. They were…it’s like they were worshipping me.”
Dean’s head jerked up in surprise.
“And then one of them said something. Regem puerum.”
Dean frowned, thinking. “…Boy King?”
Sam gave a little laugh, pretending like he wasn’t scared. “See, I told you you were smart.”
The flash of pride and surprise (the surprise breaking Sam’s heart like it always did when he saw how Dean had believed the bad things people had said to him) on his face was followed by a micro-expression of concern which he quickly camouflaged. But Sam noticed.
Dean folded Sam into his arms, holding him as tight as he could without hurting him. “I got you, Sammy.” The phrase soothed Sam as it always did when Dean spoke those words to him, trusting them utterly. “I don’t know what that was all about, but we’ll figure it out. Bobby’ll know something. Or he’ll find out. Ok?” Sam nodded, muscles tense. Dean shoved the tingle of fear down deep (something about Boy King scared the hell out of him), and kissed Sam on the forehead. “Hey. The ice cream’s melting.” That brought a smile to Sam’s face. “Let’s go back and get all this shit stowed, and get some breakfast in you.” Dean rummaged through some bags until he found the package of string cheese, and they each ate three of them on the way back to the motel to take the edge off their hunger.
Back at the hotel, they enlisted Danny’s help to bring all the supplies in. He brought out a huge flat wagon cart with raised sides, and it still took two trips to bring everything inside. They handed off the things Juliane had put on her list, and a few extra things Sam had put in the cart to surprise her. Then they made their excuses and disappeared into their apartment.
Dean shut the door behind them. Once the lock snicked shut, Dean backed Sam up against the door, pushing his hips against him hard, gripping Sam’s hair and claiming his mouth with a deep kiss. Sam made a small sound of surprise, and moved against him, cock filling with blood, twitching against Dean’s thigh.
“Didn’t like how she looked at you, Sammy.” Sam made a soft little sound of pleasure. “You’re mine.” Dean tipped Sam’s head to the side, exposing his neck. “Fucking mine.” He sucked on Sam’s skin hard, demanding, bringing blood surging to the surface. Sam moaned and arched his back, tipped his head back more, baring his neck to Dean. Dean purred his approval. He moved back just a bit, so his body was just an inch away from Sam, hands on Sam’s shoulders pressing him against the wooden door, just looking at him, green eyes gone dark with desire. Being looked at like that made Sam shiver. He canted his hips forward, trying to make contact again.
Dean chuckled, a soft, sensual sound rich with promise, biting his lower lip at the sight of Sam, cheeks already gone pink, hazel eyes wide, wanting him so badly. “Go get yourself ready.” He brought his hands down Sam’s sides and cupped his ass, thrusting his cock right up against Sam’s. “I want to fuck you.” He stared at Sam’s parted mouth, swiping his tongue over his lower lip, and then met his gaze again. “You want me to fuck you, baby boy?”
Sam’s cock jerked, straining against his jeans, twitching against Dean’s cock. Dean laughed again. “That’s a yes?”
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
The hunger on Dean’s face made him look feral, dangerous. Sam loved it.
“Yes what?” Dean retracted his hips again, holding himself back so Sam could feel the heat from his body but not feel him. “What’s the magic word?”
“Whatever you want it to be.” Sam closed his eyes for a moment. Hey, Sammy? Anything you ever want to try. I’m down. No limits. I mean it. He opened his eyes, met Dean’s gaze, dared to keep going. “Please. Sir. Master.” Trust me. “Daddy.”
Dean’s palms slammed against the door hard on either side of Sam’s head as he lunged at Sam, pinning him against the door, devouring his mouth, shaking as he ground his cock against Sam’s, pumping his hips uncontrollably, wrapping his fingers in Sam’s hair. Shaking.
Coming.
Dean losing it like that so fast, so completely made Sam fly apart too, coming in his pants, crying out into Dean’s mouth as Dean’s come soaked through the front of his jeans, smacking his head as he involuntarily threw it back as the orgasm peaked, thrashing in Dean’s grasp. Dean gripped his ass and held him tight against him, still twitching and jerking and coming himself.
Finally, their shuddering stilled. Dean pushed Sam’s hair out of his face and pressed his forehead against Sam’s. “Jesus fucking Christ, Sammy,” he whispered. “Fucking hell.”
Dean could feel the question forming in Sam’s mind before it even made it into words. “Yeah, that was ok. That was totally ok.” He rubbed his thumb over Sam’s jaw. “Anything you and I do together is good. You know why?”
Sam waited for the answer.
Dean’s mouth twitched. “Because we love each other so fucking much it makes it ok. No matter how out there or kinky it is.” He kissed Sam, slow and sweet and so thoroughly Sam felt dizzy. Finally, he pulled back and nuzzled Sam’s neck. His voice was a whisper. “Besides, I know you never called him Daddy in your life.”
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and squeezed hard, relief washing over him in a flood. Dean got it. He understood.
“Not a damn thing wrong with you, Sammy.” Dean hugged Sam just as hard. “Don’t you think that for a second.” Dean swiped his thumb over Sam’s cheek, wiping away the tear trailing down his face. “Besides, just wait ‘till I tell you about some of the stuff I want to do with you. All kinds of things.”
Sam stared at Dean, rapt. “Like what?”
Dean closed his eyes. Even knowing what he’d said to Sam, what they had between them, it was still hard. But Sam had just trusted him, made himself so vulnerable. He had to step up. “Ok. Here’s one. I want to suck you off while people watch.” He kept his eyes closed. “I just…I want people to see. Us. Together. To not have to hide.” He dared to open his eyes.
Sam was smiling, eyes wet. “Yes. We can…we can do that.”
Dean swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Damn, I cry a lot.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Sammy.” The vulnerability bled into his voice, soft, almost a whisper. “I need to be inside you. Can—“
Sam pressed his lips to Dean’s, soft and warm, lips parted, the tip of his tongue ghosting into Dean’s mouth gently. “Just give me a minute.” He squeezed Dean’s hand, then got the special bag from the bedroom went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower.
Dean stashed the frozen items and the vodka in the empty freezer, nearly filling it, and put the perishable food in the refrigerator. They’d bought so much, he was barely able to fit it all in, and had to leave the eggs and most of the fruit on the counter. Once the food was safely put away, Dean stripped his clothes off in the kitchen and wiped himself off with a damp wad of paper towels, then walked naked into the bedroom, bringing the lube and massage oil with him.
Sam came in, damp toweled-dry hair clinging to his face, and crawled up onto the bed next to Dean. “How do you want me?”
Dean shook his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear to god.” He pulled Sam down, rolled on top of him. “I want you every way. All of them.”
Sam looked up into those green eyes. “Do it. Anything.” His words sent a shiver through Dean. “I mean it. Anything. Just like you said.”
Dean sat back, unsnapped the cap on the KY and slicked up his cock. Sam spread his thighs wide, letting Dean see everything.
“You get yourself ready for me, baby boy?”
Sam’s breath hitched. “Yeah.”
Dean shoved Sam’s thighs apart wider, pushing his hips back, and sealed his mouth over Sam’s hole. Sam moaned as Dean lapped at him, lifted his hips up so his back was perpendicular to the bed, ass high in the air, cock pointed down. Dean swore at the sight, smacked his palms down on Sam’s ass, and rimmed him like it was the best thing he’d ever done with his tongue. He licked Sam open, coaxing his tight pink rim to soften and open to him, making greedy little sounds that made Sam’s toes curl.
“Only you,” Sam gasped. “No one’s ever going to do that to me but you.”
Dean moaned, his mouth sealed over Sam, eyes the color of the sea during a storm. He raised his head. “Damn straight. You’re mine.” He stretched Sam open with his thumbs on either side, and plunged his tongue inside him as deep as he could get it.
“Yours,” Sam whispered, shaking, shivering, dancing on Dean’s tongue.
Dean slid his hand, still slick with lube, over Sam’s cock, thumb moving over the sensitive spot at the base of the head. Sam cried out, and then again, louder, as Dean took hold of his cock in earnest, stroking it, tugging at Sam’s balls, squeezing the shaft from the base to the head, milking him. “Dean. You’re gonna make me come.”
Dean squeezed the base of Sam’s cock with a soft chuckle. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He lowered Sam’s hips, hooked his arms under Sam’s knees, pressing them back, and brought himself to Sam’s entrance. “And not like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.” He pressed against Sam, barely breaching him. “Just my cock. Can you do that for me?”
Sam wriggled, trying to take Dean deeper inside me. “Yeah.”
Dean watched Sam’s face intently, and said, “That’s my good boy.”
Sam reacted immediately, making a primal, guttural sound and arching his back, desperate for Dean to enter him. “Come on. Please…”
Dean rubbed the pad of his thumb over Sam’s lower lip. “Please…what?”
The electricity in the air was almost palpable. Sam bit his lip, hesitant, not sure he was ready to go over that cliff.
“It’s ok, Sammy. Just you and me. It’s safe. We’re just playing. Doesn’t mean anything more than that. Anything we want to do, or say, or wear, or pretend, it’s all good.” Dean kissed the hollow of Sam’s throat. “I love you. Get it? You’re perfect and pure and mine, and I want to make you feel good.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue probing, insisting Sam let him in. “Besides… it’s not just you. I want to.” Dean’s breathing was ragged. “You fucking made me come just by saying it.” Dean’s pupils were blown wide, cock so hard and engorged it was dark red. “Sammy. Say it.”
Sam swallowed hard, and putting his trust in Dean, surrendered to it. “Please, daddy.”
Dean shuddered. With a groan, he pushed into Sam in one long thrust, burying himself inside him to the hilt. “Wanted to go slow. Stay inside you for hours. But there’s no way. You’re just…fuck.”
Sam’s body stretched to accommodate Dean’s cock like he was born to do it, like he was made just for Dean. Dean licked into Sam’s mouth with a moan, driving into Sam deep and hard, hips rising and falling. Sam stretched his arms over his head, sucked on Dean’s tongue, surrendering to Dean completely, a feeling of elation filling him as he realized that saying it didn’t make him feel dirtybadwrong. It made him feel lighter. Clean. More pure. Because he confessed something scary to Dean, and Dean accepted it, loved him even more for it, gave him what he needed. He took what Sam thought was his dirty little secret and brought it out into the light, revealed it to be nothing dangerous, just a little spice to change the flavor of what they had together.
Sam laughed with the joy of it. The freedom. The knowledge that he could ask Dean to try anything now. Anything at all. “Your cock feels so good, daddy.”
Dean laughed too. “Yeah, baby boy? You like it?” Dean’s smile was blinding. He fucked into Sam like he’d never done before, twisting and driving in, back muscles standing out thick and strong. “You like it when daddy fucks you?”
“Yes,” Sam hissed, shuddering to hear Dean say it for the first time, taking hold of Dean’s face with both hands, making him look him in the eyes. “Say it again.”
Dean’s mouth fell open at the look on Sam’s face, infinite love and keen need, and so much trust it nearly undid him. “Come on. Show daddy how much you love it.” He sat on his heels and pulled Sam forward, still impaled on him, lifting his hips up, angling him so his shoulders and feet were pressed flat on the mattress.
Sam arched up, weight on his shoulders and heels, waggling his hips up and down, riding Dean’s cock fast and hard as Dean held steady, letting Sam fuck himself on Dean’s cock. “You’re taking it so good for me. Such a good boy.”
“Fuck, daddy, feels so good…” Sam worked himself hard and fast, panting and writhing, but after a few moments, he whimpered because the angle wasn’t right to go as hard as he wanted. “More. Please. Harder, daddy.”
“You want it harder?” Sam nodded furiously. “Show me.” Dean lifted Sam up into his lap, knees on the mattress, and put his arms around Dean’s neck. “Ride my cock, sweetheart. Show me how hard you like it.”
Sam rose and fell on Dean’s cock, fucking himself hard, sweet little sounds of satisfaction issuing from his throat.
“Ah, that’s my boy,” Dean purred.
Sam moaned at the praise, brought Dean’s index and middle fingers into his mouth, and sucked on them, sliding his mouth back and forth on them in perfect sync with the rise and fall on Dean’s cock.
“Jesus, Sam.” Dean leaned back on his free hand, watching Sam, unfettered and uninhibited, giving himself over to Dean, so alive with the pleasure of it.
“Gonna make me come, daddy.”
Dean’s mouth fell open, unable to even formulate words now. He just nodded, sliding his hands up Sam’s back, pulling him down harder, rotating his hips in circles as Sam slid up and down on his cock.
“Jesus. Daddy. Dean. Oh god. Dean.” The last word came out as a sob.
“Sam. Come for me.” Dean pushed every ounce of command voice he had into those three words. And Sam obeyed instantly, crying out, spilling over Dean’s belly, coming untouched on Dean’s cock. He twitched and writhed like a wild thing, like the pleasure was screaming through his whole body, controlling every part of it, demanding outlet not just through the fluid spurting from him or the cries that thickened into a scream but through movement of his whole body, a whirlwind of kinetic energy.
In the midst of the storm that was Sam coming apart for Dean, Sam milked Dean’s orgasm out of him. Dean’s back curled, every muscle in his body contracting, fueling his release, shooting deep inside Sam, dissolving into him, guttural cries punched out of him. He could feel Sam pulling it out of him, drinking it up inside him, kicking his own orgasm to a higher plane, one where sound and motion no longer were relevant. Sam stilled, threw his head back, mouth open, the cords of his neck standing out.
For a split second, Dean thought he saw light shoot out of Sam, explode outward from his forehead and throat, spike from the top of his head and the base of his tailbone; he even thought he actually felt physical heat shooting through his body from light pouring from Sam’s chest, belly button and cock. But then his vision whited out completely. The only thing that existed was Sam, and him.
~
When Dean came to, he was still inside Sam, still on his knees, slumped forward against Sam, Sam leaning against him limp and boneless, balancing each other out so they did not collapse.
He lifted Sam up, laid him back on the bed, slipping out of him in the process. Sam stirred with a sound of complaint. “Shhh… I’m right here.” He grabbed one of the towels on the bedside table to clean Sam up so there wouldn’t be much of a wet spot. Oddly, all there was to clean up was a bit of lube, despite Dean having spilled what felt like all the fluid in his body into Sam.
He did collapse then, at Sam’s side. He put his head on Sam’s chest, listening to Sam’s even breathing, the strong pulses of his heartbeat, and before he knew it, he was as fast asleep as Sam.
Sam dreamed he was naked inside a car wash with no roof. Dean was there, fully clothed. He put a hand on the small of Sam’s back. “It’s ok, Sammy.” Dean gently urged Sam to walk forward. He moved slowly, like a car on tracks being pulled through the structure. Pipes in the walls sprayed soapy water on him, great flapping things pelted him softly like being licked by a wiggle of puppies. From above, a sudden burst of rain, gleaming droplets illuminated by the bright sun overhead, burst from cloudless skies and poured over him, through him, tickling as it rained inside his body. He felt something inside him, something sticky and not right, dissolve and melt away. The rain ceased and warm puffs of air blew over him, water droplets on his skin flying off, his wet hair lifted, caressed by the air currents, and dried. At the far end of the structure, Dean stood waiting for him, hand extended to him, sunlight bringing out the gold in his hair and the emerald of his eyes. Sam looked down at his bare feet. Serpentine coils of a black substance slid down the drain, washed away by the clear water.
He raised his head, walked outside into the sun and slipped his hand into Dean’s.
~
They slept until the rumbling of their empty stomachs prodded them awake. “Starving,” Dean murmured. “Food.”
“We have food,” Sam said sleepily.
“We have food,” Dean echoed in a groggy voice. “Dude.” He sat upright, eyes huge. “We have food.”
They threw on comfortable sweats and sweatshirts (Sam muttering about how it was about time they did some laundry), and Dean insisted on making what he called Huge Food. He manned the bacon skillet, cooking up an entire package. Sam put together a fat omelet with spinach and cheddar, standing next to Dean at the range, bumping hips with him playfully. Dean liked spinach, the way Sam did it: cooked just enough to wilt but not turn slimy and grey. And with cheese. They ate the entire omelet and half of the bacon.
Then Dean brought down the cereal. “Stage two.”
Sam groaned, but accepted a bowl of Captain Crunch. Dean turned on the TV and tossed the remote to Sam. “Whatever you want.”
Sam blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like Dean to cede control of the remote. “So, I guess you liked that?”
Dean took Sam’s cereal bowl from his hands and set it on the coffee table. Suddenly serious, he placed his palms on Sam’s face and drew him in for a kiss, all coffee and bacon and sweetness. “That was awesome. You. Are awesome. Like…literally.” The reverence on Dean’s face made it clear he actually knew the true meaning of his favorite word, and was not using it lightly. Sam blinked, basking in the praise but embarrassed by it.
Sam flipped through the channels and settled on a documentary about the Zulus. Dean didn’t even roll his eyes, just sat next to Sam eating his Captain Crunch, one handful at a time sprinkled into the bowl of milk, so it stayed as crisp as possible.
The narrator spoke:…”The Zulus have long suffered from a condition called kwashiorkor. This Ghanaian word literally means ‘older brother’ and this disease of malnutrition is caused by a previously nourished child no longer receiving adequate sustenance once a new baby arrives. Living in poverty, the mother does not have sufficient food to nurse two children, and the older child is weaned abruptly. Without other food to eat, the older sibling slowly starves. This differentiates kwashiorkor from marasmus, in which the child experiences starvation from birth…”
Dean was startled by the clatter of Sam dropping his spoon into the bowl and setting it down on the coffee table.
Sam stared at Dean, a horrified realization dawning on him.
“Sam?”
“You.” Sam’s mouth worked, as though reluctant to actually form the words. “You gave it all to me. Didn’t you?”
Dean frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Sam leaned forward. “All those times. You gave me all the food we had. You said you weren’t hungry.” You go ahead, Sam. I don’t feel like eating. “You said you already ate.” I ate mine on the way, Sammy. This one’s for you. Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t true. If there wasn’t enough for both of us to eat, you didn’t tell me…you just gave it all to me.”
Dean tried to play it off. “Sam, it wasn’t like that.”
“Yes. It was. And…” Sam wiped his face on his sleeve. “And that’s why I’m already as tall as you.”
“You’re not as tall as me—“
“Yes I am.” And Sam was. Dean just hadn’t been ready to admit that quite yet.
“People are always saying it’s weird that I’m so tall already, and I’m gonna be so much taller than you. And that’s why… because…” Sam’s voice was choked. “Because you didn’t get enough to eat when we were kids because you gave it to me.”
Dean had nothing. Because there was nothing to say. Because Sam was right.
Sam saw the truth of it in Dean’s eyes. His face twisted, and he crumpled into Dean’s arms. Sam sobbed like he was being torn apart, like his heart was bursting in his chest.
Dean struggled to hold him, a wet, convulsing mass of limbs and floppy hair. “Sammy. It’s ok. I’m fine. Look at me. I’m plenty tall. I’m big and strong. I’m fine.”
“You were actually malnourished, Dean! That’s not fine. You went hungry. All the time. Because of me.”
“Damn straight,” Dean said with pride, the admission finally driven out of him. “Damn straight I did. And I’d do it all over again. Sam. Don’t you get it? You come first.” Dean swallowed hard, trying not to cry himself. “You always came first.”
This just made Sam cry harder, contorting in Dean’s lap. He sobbed for a long time, unable to form words. Finally, he started to calm enough to speak again. “And I was… god, Dean, I was such a little brat. Always bugging you for more. I want more cereal.’How come we don’t have hamburgers like everyone else? Dean, I want more. He started to sob again, fists tangled in Dean’s sweatshirt. “I was such—“he hiccupped “—a little shit.” His sobs amped up, incoherent, so broken, so anguished that Dean’s tears flowed finally in sympathetic, involuntary response.
“Sammy…please don’t cry. It kills me when you cry.”
Sam took a deep breath, trying to force the sobs into submission. For Dean. “You starved. So I wasn’t hungry.” He raised his hand to Dean’s cheek, wiping his tears away with his thumb clumsily, tugging at the skin. “Because you…”
“Because I love you.” Dean smiled at Sam, a fresh tear spilling from his eyes.
Sam knew Dean loved him. Dean always took care of him. Stood up to Dad for Sam. He had even killed for Sam. Dean loved him with his hands and mouth and his whole body. Sam thought he knew exactly how much Dean loved him. But now as he looked at Dean, his heart broke as he understood fully for the first time all that those three words really meant.
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Date: 2013-06-05 01:55 am (UTC)Danny finally gave Juliane a hint! John is detoxing...in more ways than one, I think. Reggie, I love him so, he deserves some happiness.
I have a thing for daddy!kink, and really enjoyed that here - it was clear it was not about John at all, and I think that was as important to Sam and Dean as it was to us. It was done so lovingly and without judgement, it was perfect (and hot.)
Why do I think Dean actually did see light come out of Sam? I don't think that was imagined, it was like their love was just that radiant. And the dream Sam had...was that the dregs of the hold Azazel thought he had on Sam washed away by pure love?
Seeing the demons here did not surprise me - I knew they'd be back to try to get to Sam, but I am concerned about his vision. I hope that doesn't mean he gets taken again...not that I think he'd ever become their Boy King.
The documentary and Sam's realizations...I can't even speak it justice. It was a stunning reveal, and the love Dean has had for Sam all his life, so very much more than just as a brother and now a lover - it's just in him to take care of Sam, on such a level that transcends anything ever. He would give any and everything, literally, for Sam.
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Date: 2013-06-05 05:53 am (UTC)And thank you for what you said about the daddykink. It was a fine line for me. It was important that John be not so much as an undertone, for Sam and Dean's sake (like you pointed out) as much as for us. But I also wanted to avoid judgment, both between Sam and Dean and between myself and my readers. Because I know that many people enjoy all sorts of themes in their erotica and literary porn. And this was a version of daddykink I could personally live with, that I hoped would not be upsetting to people who have lived through parental incest.
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Date: 2013-06-05 05:12 am (UTC)Thank you so, so much
Date: 2013-06-05 05:33 am (UTC)"I really think that Dean did actually see the light shining from Sam, that Dean's love is pure enough and strong enough to cleanse Dean of the hold that the demon blood may have over him." Do you mean to suggest that I may be writing a full-length Wincest novel in which incestuous gay love saves the day? In which far-more-than-brotherly love can purge someone of demon blood? Who would dare to DO such a thing?
:)
And I am so proud that I found something that is scientifically and anthropologically 100% real, that fits perfectly with plausible canon back story, that explains why Sam is so much taller than his brother.
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Date: 2013-06-05 10:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-05 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-05 08:18 pm (UTC)They love each other so much, it is just <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
(On the other hand it gave me a real-life POV shiver too: having different names for "starvation-types" like the eskimos for snow... that's...)
Reggie finally called his guy! AWESOME!
The demons have no chance, hehh :D I just hope that they won't decide to try some more hands-on type persuasion methods when they see that they are not getting anywhere with him :S I would hate him to be kidnapped again, or Dean getting hurt :(
And. back to the kinky part: gay club/ public sex with everyone watching FUCKYESSSSSSSS PLEASEPLEASEPLEEEEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN, PRETTY PLEASE? :D
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Date: 2013-06-05 08:23 pm (UTC)But the good news!
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Date: 2013-06-05 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-05 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-05 09:15 pm (UTC)I adored watching Sam and Dean buy any and everything they wanted in the grocery store. And seeing it juxtaposed with the sadness and hurt Sam has when he realizes that Dean went without food. (BTW, so very perfect that you found kwashiorkor and its literal translation.) That gutwrenching pain Sam felt for Dean, uck, just broke me in the best way. But having it be what really proves Dean's love for Sam was beautiful. It's always mentioned in fics almost in passing, like it's no big deal, but for Dean, who was really still a kid himself to go hungry for Sam - that is a VERY big deal. He was just always that devoted to his Sammy. I love these two so much, and the way you write them just makes me so happy!
Ok...now lets talk porns, because, Fucking Hell, that was hot. I LOVED that you used a little daddy kink, and that you get it has NOTHING to do with John. It was perfect...and dammit woman, you so owe me panties! Dean coming in his pants from Sammy just saying it...then the way they played with it during sex. Well, in Dean's words "Jesus fucking Christ." And, you are gonna just kill me...Dean saying he wants to suck Sam off while people watch...Why do I get the feeling that club is going to come into play? If not, I have no doubts you are going to give us that at some point. I will have back up panties ready for that one ;)
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Date: 2013-06-05 10:58 pm (UTC)I'm so glad the demons didn't really get to Sam, though I must say - as you surely intended - Sam's vision bothers and worries me a great deal, bringing us ever closer to the Big Bad lurking just behind the corner. And I have a feeling that going to that gay club might fulfill their (and our ;)) fantasies of public sex but will be a bad decision at the end of the day, since it was after all a demon suggesting they go there... *sighs* I knew the boys' domestic bliss wouldn't last forever, but I'm not ready to face all the horribleness that is the Boy King mess... I want them to be happy, damnit! But I have faith you'll get us there eventually.
One huge and fantastic step towards that is what I've decided to see as the Epic Wincesty Cleansing of Sammy. :) I of course love the idea that their love can somehow purify Sam, save him, them, the world. Your description of the light pouring out of Sam, the...uhm...curious absence of Dean's come and Sammy's dream afterwards - it made me all giddily happy and hopeful. And as always your writing was so visceral, their emotions palpable and so many other big, wonderful words I can't think of right now. ;) It even made the daddy!kink somehow work for me, despite that usually not being my thing. I think it was important that you showed how unrelated to John it is, and in the context of Sam and Dean's relationship, it does actually make a certain kind of sense to me.
And then the ending! Dean going hungry so Sam doesn't have to has always been Canon to me, and I loved how you integrated it into this fic as well. To me, it was essential for Sam to see just what Dean's love for him has always entailed, and just how deep Dean's feelings run.
In short: You've outdone yourself yet again, and this was all sorts of perfect! Thank you.
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Date: 2013-06-06 11:27 pm (UTC)I really loved the fact that although things are looking up, we can't forget the bad- John, the demons, Sam's ordeal, Azazel, etc.
I think personally, the whole bit about having enough money for food was really, really touching.
I like that although you focus on the good, you don't shy away from the bad. You focus on their love, but you've made sure to show Sam's pain, Sam's torture, the sadism of the demons. It's all a perspective, and having the bad as potent as the good puts everything to scale.
As always, a very very good chapter- I can literally feel the angst piling up to come into the story soon!
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Date: 2013-06-07 07:02 pm (UTC)Glad that Juliane heard what Danny said, that makes me smile from ear to ear!
And then Sam realizing what Dean did for him, so many tears.
GREAT CHAPTER!
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Date: 2013-06-08 12:02 pm (UTC)I had a lot of things to say, and then the dream sequence came and I think every single one of them flew out of my head. I love how smugly stupid the demons are that they think the combination of Sam and Dean sleeping together and the blood they put in Sam will be able to do anything to his true nature. I had a really witty thing to say about that to, and then the dream sequence, and I just hoped so hard Sam would analyze that and consider it. Then I remembered he doesn't know the secret about his blood yet, but oh man I really hope that dream comes back when he does.
I'm excited about more, but (and this is kinda sad) I'm super stoked that Reggie comes back soon.
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Date: 2013-06-10 08:28 pm (UTC)And yes, I believe Epic Wincesty Love can clean Sam of the demon blood. Of course (knowing you) the demons will get Sam sorta, probably at the club (rec'd by a demon no less!)
Loved the way you showed that, yes, Sam always comes first in Dean's book. ;D (Food and yes, sex, which BTW was scorching hot!!)
All in all, this was an amazing update!
<3
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Date: 2013-12-08 09:25 am (UTC)Love the sit-rep of the main players.
The whole food thing, my heart was breaking while they were shopping let alone the stuff at the end.
Forget owing me panties..damn near broke the arm off the couch with that bit against the door! Seriously! That was all kinds of...Christo! x
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Date: 2013-12-08 05:29 pm (UTC)