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runedgirlAuthor name: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runedgirl
Artist name:fanlay
Pairing: Dean/Sam, with Sam/Jess and Dean/Cas
Rating: NC17
They had never exchanged birthday presents, unless you counted the cards Sam made for Dean when he was six and seven and eight, or the frog he caught when he was five and proudly presented to his big brother in a discarded Pop Tarts box. Dean had nearly jumped out of his skin when the poor creature leapt out the second he opened the box, bouncing off Dean’s nose and escaping across the kitchen. It had taken an hour to find the damn thing, and another hour to explain to Sam why they had to let it go, but after that Dean had sat with Sam for a long time and told him stories about frogs that turned into handsome princes and rescued pretty princesses in distress.
“Like you,” Sam had said afterwards, warm and happy snuggled into his big brother’s side, frog debacle forgotten. “A handsome prince like you.” He hadn’t really understood why Dean had gotten so red, but it had made Dean smile, so he hadn’t really cared.
That year was different. Sam bought Dean the set of power tools and the workbench he’d been admiring in the Home Depot circular for weeks but kept refusing to buy because they were too expensive. Dean favored the Dollar Store; years of living on the road and hand to mouth had made it hard for Sam to convince him that they actually had enough money to buy a tool kit.
Dean’s eyes went wide as saucers when Sam opened the garage door, the workbench all set up and the tools laid out, silver and orange and gleaming, ready to go.
“You like?” Sam asked, and it came out less sure than he’d intended.
“I – yeah,” Dean said, sounding just as shaky. “I – I love it, Sam. It’s . . . heh.” He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, ears a telltale pink.
“Oooh,” Rosie said, holding Sam’s hand. “Toys.”
“Those are Dean’s toys,” Sam said, shaking a finger.
They got a babysitter for Rosie and went out for dinner to celebrate. Sam pleaded for steakhouse instead of 24-hour diner, and Dean acquiesced. His enthusiasm for the steak was matched only by the way he kept staring at Sam like he was equally juicy and delicious. They didn’t linger too long over dessert.
“Wait a minute,” Dean said, when they were home and Rosie was safely asleep. Sam pulled his hand back from where he’d been reaching for Dean’s tie to haul him in for a birthday kiss.
“Don’t want to,” he complained, knowing it would make Dean grin.
“Tough,” Dean said, and he held out a little box. “It’s a present,” he said, when Sam quirked an eyebrow.
“It’s your birthday,” Sam said with exaggerated slowness. “That means you get the presents, not give them.”
“Fuck you,” Dean shot back. “Just open it.”
For a moment, Sam wondered if a frog would jump out. He opened the box carefully, pulling back the flaps to peer inside. At the bottom was the amulet he had given Dean for Christmas a million years ago; the one Dean had given to Cas and broken Sam’s heart.
Sam took it out and held it in one hand. The bronze gleamed, sparkling under the overhead kitchen lamp. “Where – what?”
“He always said he’d give it back when he didn’t need it anymore,” Dean said quietly. “It was never – it was a loan, Sam. Cas needed it, but it was never – I wouldn’t give it away. You gotta know that.”
Sam guessed he did now. He nodded, his throat tight.
“Put it on me?” Dean asked, and his voice was strained, too. His eyes were too green, catching the light.
Sam could only nod again. Dean leaned forward and Sam slipped it over his head, the amulet falling back into place against Dean’s chest where it belonged. When Dean looked up, Sam kissed him, one hand wrapped around the amulet to hold Dean there.
“Happy birthday,” Sam whispered when he could talk again. He slid one hand around behind Dean and groped his ass, kneading the firm flesh until Dean groaned and pushed up against him, needy. Sam could feel the amulet’s face bruising his chest where it was pressed between them.
“Birthday spanking first?” Sam growled against Dean’s ear, nipping at the lobe the way that always got Dean going. Dean gasped and grabbed Sam’s ass in return, bringing their hips together, both of them half hard already.
“Uh, sure, if—if you want,” Dean answered, and Sam had to stop to remember what the hell he’d just asked. He pulled back far enough to see if Dean was teasing back.
Dean tried to turn away, blushing as he dropped his gaze. Sam caught him by the chin and tilted his head back up. “Dean?” he asked, “Do you want me to spank you?”
It wasn’t anything they’d done; this thing between them felt so taboo that even vanilla was electric. There was so much Sam didn’t know about Dean—what he liked, what he longed for, what would make him crazy. He wanted to know it all, wanted to spend a lifetime learning.
“Maybe,” Dean hedged, and Sam shook his head, eyes locked to his brother’s.
“Not good enough,” he said. “You want it, you gotta say so. But if you do, I’ll give it to you.”
“Fuck,” Dean groaned, and he ground his hips up against Sam’s wantonly. “Okay, yeah, give it to me, Sammy, c’mon.”
He made Dean count off the slaps to his ass, sprawled naked over Sam’s knee, his cock hard and leaking against Sam’s thigh. By the time they got to twenty-five, Dean was sobbing and bucking so much that Sam took pity on him, slicking a finger and sliding it up Dean’s heated red ass. Sam gave him the last slaps while he worked him over from the inside, mixing up the pleasure and pain until Dean stiffened all over and came, moaning and writhing as Sam spanked him through it. They took turns topping after that, with breaks for the champagne Sam had bought and snacks in between because they weren’t teenagers anymore, and Dean was too done for to stop himself from saying “Love you too, Sammy” when they finally said their goodnights at 4 AM.
* * *
When the weather turned warm in late March, Sam came home from work one evening to find Dean hanging a few new baskets of bougainvillea on the porch, Rosie playing happily at his feet with a bucket full of green plastic army men and multicolored farm animals from one of their many trips to the Dollar Store. Above the door was something new, a carved wood sign that said “143 Alice Grim Lane” surrounded by an intricate pattern of swirling vines that looked like some exotic sort of flowering ivy.
“How did you make that without me knowing about it?” Sam asked as he climbed the stairs, putting down his briefcase to pick Rosie up.
Dean climbed down from where he’d been balanced on a wicker chair to hang the baskets, wiping his hands on his jeans. He had smudges of dirt on his face, and a few flower petals sticking to his hair on one side.
“Still got a few surprises up my sleeve,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face to hide a smile.
“Guess this means you really are staying,” Sam said, making no attempt to hide his.
“Guess so.” Dean’s ears went red at the tips.
Sam leaned in, examining the address plate more closely. “It’s beautiful,” he said, and then his brow furrowed.
The sign was painted in bright colors, the address standing out in black script against a background of every shade of green and a riot of yellow, orange, red, purple, blue and white flowers bursting from the vines. It wasn’t until Sam got up close that he could see the delicately rendered protection charms and sigils and blessings painted into the flowers and vines and carved deep into the wood itself, all of them intertwined so thoroughly they looked like they could never be unwound. Beneath the thickest cluster of flowers, two words were painted, winding through the vines in bold black Latin.
Numquam Separari
Never Be Separated.
When he turned back to find his brother’s eyes on him, Sam smiled.
Fin.
runedgirlArtist name:
fanlayPairing: Dean/Sam, with Sam/Jess and Dean/Cas
Rating: NC17
They had never exchanged birthday presents, unless you counted the cards Sam made for Dean when he was six and seven and eight, or the frog he caught when he was five and proudly presented to his big brother in a discarded Pop Tarts box. Dean had nearly jumped out of his skin when the poor creature leapt out the second he opened the box, bouncing off Dean’s nose and escaping across the kitchen. It had taken an hour to find the damn thing, and another hour to explain to Sam why they had to let it go, but after that Dean had sat with Sam for a long time and told him stories about frogs that turned into handsome princes and rescued pretty princesses in distress.
“Like you,” Sam had said afterwards, warm and happy snuggled into his big brother’s side, frog debacle forgotten. “A handsome prince like you.” He hadn’t really understood why Dean had gotten so red, but it had made Dean smile, so he hadn’t really cared.
That year was different. Sam bought Dean the set of power tools and the workbench he’d been admiring in the Home Depot circular for weeks but kept refusing to buy because they were too expensive. Dean favored the Dollar Store; years of living on the road and hand to mouth had made it hard for Sam to convince him that they actually had enough money to buy a tool kit.
Dean’s eyes went wide as saucers when Sam opened the garage door, the workbench all set up and the tools laid out, silver and orange and gleaming, ready to go.
“You like?” Sam asked, and it came out less sure than he’d intended.
“I – yeah,” Dean said, sounding just as shaky. “I – I love it, Sam. It’s . . . heh.” He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, ears a telltale pink.
“Oooh,” Rosie said, holding Sam’s hand. “Toys.”
“Those are Dean’s toys,” Sam said, shaking a finger.
They got a babysitter for Rosie and went out for dinner to celebrate. Sam pleaded for steakhouse instead of 24-hour diner, and Dean acquiesced. His enthusiasm for the steak was matched only by the way he kept staring at Sam like he was equally juicy and delicious. They didn’t linger too long over dessert.
“Wait a minute,” Dean said, when they were home and Rosie was safely asleep. Sam pulled his hand back from where he’d been reaching for Dean’s tie to haul him in for a birthday kiss.
“Don’t want to,” he complained, knowing it would make Dean grin.
“Tough,” Dean said, and he held out a little box. “It’s a present,” he said, when Sam quirked an eyebrow.
“It’s your birthday,” Sam said with exaggerated slowness. “That means you get the presents, not give them.”
“Fuck you,” Dean shot back. “Just open it.”
For a moment, Sam wondered if a frog would jump out. He opened the box carefully, pulling back the flaps to peer inside. At the bottom was the amulet he had given Dean for Christmas a million years ago; the one Dean had given to Cas and broken Sam’s heart.
Sam took it out and held it in one hand. The bronze gleamed, sparkling under the overhead kitchen lamp. “Where – what?”
“He always said he’d give it back when he didn’t need it anymore,” Dean said quietly. “It was never – it was a loan, Sam. Cas needed it, but it was never – I wouldn’t give it away. You gotta know that.”
Sam guessed he did now. He nodded, his throat tight.
“Put it on me?” Dean asked, and his voice was strained, too. His eyes were too green, catching the light.
Sam could only nod again. Dean leaned forward and Sam slipped it over his head, the amulet falling back into place against Dean’s chest where it belonged. When Dean looked up, Sam kissed him, one hand wrapped around the amulet to hold Dean there.
“Happy birthday,” Sam whispered when he could talk again. He slid one hand around behind Dean and groped his ass, kneading the firm flesh until Dean groaned and pushed up against him, needy. Sam could feel the amulet’s face bruising his chest where it was pressed between them.
“Birthday spanking first?” Sam growled against Dean’s ear, nipping at the lobe the way that always got Dean going. Dean gasped and grabbed Sam’s ass in return, bringing their hips together, both of them half hard already.
“Uh, sure, if—if you want,” Dean answered, and Sam had to stop to remember what the hell he’d just asked. He pulled back far enough to see if Dean was teasing back.
Dean tried to turn away, blushing as he dropped his gaze. Sam caught him by the chin and tilted his head back up. “Dean?” he asked, “Do you want me to spank you?”
It wasn’t anything they’d done; this thing between them felt so taboo that even vanilla was electric. There was so much Sam didn’t know about Dean—what he liked, what he longed for, what would make him crazy. He wanted to know it all, wanted to spend a lifetime learning.
“Maybe,” Dean hedged, and Sam shook his head, eyes locked to his brother’s.
“Not good enough,” he said. “You want it, you gotta say so. But if you do, I’ll give it to you.”
“Fuck,” Dean groaned, and he ground his hips up against Sam’s wantonly. “Okay, yeah, give it to me, Sammy, c’mon.”
He made Dean count off the slaps to his ass, sprawled naked over Sam’s knee, his cock hard and leaking against Sam’s thigh. By the time they got to twenty-five, Dean was sobbing and bucking so much that Sam took pity on him, slicking a finger and sliding it up Dean’s heated red ass. Sam gave him the last slaps while he worked him over from the inside, mixing up the pleasure and pain until Dean stiffened all over and came, moaning and writhing as Sam spanked him through it. They took turns topping after that, with breaks for the champagne Sam had bought and snacks in between because they weren’t teenagers anymore, and Dean was too done for to stop himself from saying “Love you too, Sammy” when they finally said their goodnights at 4 AM.
* * *
When the weather turned warm in late March, Sam came home from work one evening to find Dean hanging a few new baskets of bougainvillea on the porch, Rosie playing happily at his feet with a bucket full of green plastic army men and multicolored farm animals from one of their many trips to the Dollar Store. Above the door was something new, a carved wood sign that said “143 Alice Grim Lane” surrounded by an intricate pattern of swirling vines that looked like some exotic sort of flowering ivy.
“How did you make that without me knowing about it?” Sam asked as he climbed the stairs, putting down his briefcase to pick Rosie up.
Dean climbed down from where he’d been balanced on a wicker chair to hang the baskets, wiping his hands on his jeans. He had smudges of dirt on his face, and a few flower petals sticking to his hair on one side.
“Still got a few surprises up my sleeve,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face to hide a smile.
“Guess this means you really are staying,” Sam said, making no attempt to hide his.
“Guess so.” Dean’s ears went red at the tips.
Sam leaned in, examining the address plate more closely. “It’s beautiful,” he said, and then his brow furrowed.
The sign was painted in bright colors, the address standing out in black script against a background of every shade of green and a riot of yellow, orange, red, purple, blue and white flowers bursting from the vines. It wasn’t until Sam got up close that he could see the delicately rendered protection charms and sigils and blessings painted into the flowers and vines and carved deep into the wood itself, all of them intertwined so thoroughly they looked like they could never be unwound. Beneath the thickest cluster of flowers, two words were painted, winding through the vines in bold black Latin.
Numquam Separari
Never Be Separated.
When he turned back to find his brother’s eyes on him, Sam smiled.
Fin.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 09:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 09:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 09:35 am (UTC)THANK YOU BB! you made my entire week! ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 05:42 pm (UTC)I didn't even mind the Dean/Cas stuff, every single thing about their epic journey was absolutely beautiful. ♥
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 10:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:05 am (UTC)Thank you so much for such lovely feedback (even if I did make you cry...) Miss u!
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Date: 2012-06-18 04:06 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for sharing!
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Date: 2012-06-19 01:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:07 am (UTC)*smishes you*
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Date: 2012-06-18 06:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 07:04 pm (UTC)it took me hours to finish because i kept doubling back and re-reading certain parts, saying some of the words out loud, and generally just being in awe for far too long.
this is the sort of thing that i'd line shelf after shelf in my library with if i could. everything was just so spot on and detailed just the right amount, and told from different perspectives, delving enough into the past to make my heart squeeze again and again.
and even cas and dean's relationship (which is one of those things that i don't poke around at not because it bothers me, just moreso because i don't "believe" in it, i guess..) seemed so undeniably perfect and it just FIT. i actually more than enjoyed those bits. it felt more like the greatest of friendships, the kind to lend a helping hand whenever needed - no matter the context. castiel's subtle dick joke, the way he spoke so matter of fact ("Fuck you." - "If you like."), it was unexpectedly beautiful.
and after years of sexual tension so powerful i myself thought i'd explode, god the payoff was spectacular. and scorching, needn't forget that.
oh gosh, this is hands down one of the best things i've ever read, to date.
♥
thank you so much for writing something so profound.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:11 am (UTC)The fact that you called this profound and that you read some of the language aloud....that made me so happy I had to stop and savor your words. Thank you. So much :)
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Date: 2012-06-18 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 09:13 pm (UTC)Loved it very much :D
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Date: 2012-06-19 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 09:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:13 am (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2012-06-18 10:12 pm (UTC)Really enjoyed this, thanks so much for sharing ♥
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Date: 2012-06-19 01:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 11:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 11:07 pm (UTC)Great job!
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Date: 2012-06-19 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 01:45 am (UTC)I loved the way you wrote the Dean/Cas relationship, which I feel deserves a special mention. You make me have Feelings about them, which is also very rare, and I loved your Dean so much, I was desperately grateful that he had such a source of comfort and friendship in his life when he most needed it.
I'll be reading this again very soon. Such gorgeous, gorgeous writing. You deserve a homemade cherry pie all your own.
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Date: 2012-06-19 04:26 am (UTC)Your comments made my day. Now I'm hungry for pie tho :)
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Date: 2012-06-19 02:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 04:45 am (UTC)Thank you so much for sharing this with us. (I already payed homage to your artists as well.)
no subject
Date: 2012-06-19 02:55 pm (UTC)