Ash Wednesday - Chapter 7
May. 27th, 2007 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runedgirlTitle:Ash Wednesday - Part 7
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17 - eventually
Summary: Summary:I began this on Ash Wednesday, wondering what Dean would give up for Lent. Sam has visions. Dean finds out what that necklace is really for. Oh, and the boys have sex!
Notes/Warnings:The w-word, angst, angst about the w-word.
Disclaimer:Alas, they're mine only in my head
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
They drove west all day. The silence that hung between them was different than that of the day before, a strange mixture now of anticipation and resolution. Everything seemed to be coming to a head all at once. Several hours into the drive Dean looked over at Sam who was leaning back, eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping. A wave of love and protectiveness and desire washed over him, stronger that any feeling he had ever known. Dean reached out to splay his hand on Sam’s chest. “It’ll be alright,” he murmured softly, too softly to be heard.
Dean was about to take his hand away when Sam reached up to keep it there. “Don’t stop.” Dean felt his brother’s breathing get shallower. Sam shifted in the seat, sliding further down and spreading his legs farther apart. He moved Dean’s hand slowly down his chest toward his groin.
“How long have you been awake?” Dean asked, trying to be nonchalant about the bulge he was feeling in his brother’s pants
“Never was asleep,” Sam responded. “Been thinking of you. What you said before.”
Dean’s finger ran over a wet spot on Sam’s jeans. His eyes widened. His own cock twitched in response to what he was hearing and feeling. It was getting hard to drive. “Back seat?” he asked with a smirk, half joking and, yeah, half serious.
Sam’s eyes opened at that, not sure which cue to read even though he had been the one to start this exchange. “What? You think I’m going to have a threesome?”
“Huh?”
“You, me and the Impala.”
Dean laughed the easy laugh Sam loved to hear.
“I know you,” Sam continued. “You’d give her more attention than me. I’d be jealous.”
“Hey if you had fins -
“I always am -
They each spoke over the other so that it took a few seconds for Dean to register what Sam had just said. Sam looked away - worried that he had crossed a line, ruined a perfectly good moment. Damn, why couldn’t he just leave a good thing alone?
“Jealous of me and the car?” Dean said, though it was clear he knew that was not what Sam meant.
“Jealous of all the other girls. Of Jo.”
“Jo! Jo and I - we’re not -
“Oh yeah? Well you better tell her that because I think she has an entirely different impression.” Sam was smiling when he began speaking, but somehow, by the end of that sentence he was - pissed. He could not have said why, but he was suddenly, stupendously, pissed. “You know what? The more I think about this the more I think it’s a bad idea. You *should* be with Jo. That’s where you were headed before - this,” he waved his hand in a vague gesture that included the two of them “whatever this is.”
Dean just glanced over at him, holding his eyes for as long as he could before he had to look back at the road. He let a good five minutes tick by before he finally responded.
“You’re right. Bad idea.”
Sam agreed. Bad idea for him to have opened his mouth in the first place. Why couldn’t he, why couldn’t *they*, just let themselves have this.
“Dean, I - “
“No Sam. You’re one hundred percent right. What the fuck were we thinking? Besides, we’ve got other things to think about.”
Sam wanted to hit Dean again for doing this, but really he had brought it on himself. He wanted Dean. And he wanted Dean alive. And it didn’t seem that it was possible to have both. So he was pulling this stupid push/pull crap on Dean who did not deserve it. Sam was still pissed, but now it was directed at himself rather than his brother.
Back to silence.
*****************
They finally stopped at a motel at about midnight. Dean figured they’d get a few hours of sleep and then head out again at dawn. They were both suffering from that woozy been in a car too long feeling - even when you’ve gotten out of the car you can still almost feel forward movement, pavement sliding away under your feet. Sam at least was feeling this way. He was being propelled down roads he’d never thought he’d travel, frightening and exhilarating at the same time, to the point where he didn’t know which situation was producing which reaction anymore.
Sam had no clue how Dean felt because Dean hadn’t really talked to Sam for a few hours. When they got into the room Dean dropped his bag and headed into the bathroom. “I need a shower,” he said flatly and shut the door without looking at Sam.
Sam was left to sit on the edge of one of the beds, feeling like crap. He was an idiot, an asshole, the worst kind of jerk. All he had to do was explain to Dean and it would be fine.
He laughed. Like hell. The term “fine” had no chance of applying to any facet of his life - probably ever again. For however long (more likely short) as that was. And maybe that was the point. Things weren’t going to be fine, no picket fences and 2.5 children, no distinguished law career, hell, no career at all. But there were things he could have. And time was running out. He couldn’t *not* do something.
“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.” he said out loud. The words hung in the air like a challenge more than a sign of resignation. Which was it going to be - do or don’t?
***********************
It was shaping up to be another one of those showers for Dean, the kind where he stood there for far too long because it felt like the only safe place. Well, as safe as things were ever going to be for him. Even with his eyes closed and his head under the pounding stream of water though he was acutely aware that he may not be as safe there as he thought. Dean was always wound painfully tight, but tight had kept him and Sam alive and he wasn’t about to change his ways at this point. He heard the door. Opened by someone who did not want him to know the door had been opened. It wasn’t much of a trick to distinguish between the noises made in the normal course of living a normal life and those that were not intended to be heard. By now, for Dean, the sound of stealth was always louder. And he was always ready.
He managed to accomplish several things in one fluid movement. He had the shower curtain pulled aside and the intruder by the neck, blade poised at his throat before even he realized what he was doing.
“Jesus Dean! You shower with a freaking knife?”
“Stainless steel..”
“Well, don’t kill me, ok.”
Dean didn’t answer.
“Does that mean you were thinking of killing me?”
Dean still didn’t answer.
“Yell at me Dean. Say something.”
“You’re naked.”
“Yeah, and you’re still holding a knife to my throat, which, I have to tell you, is a real mood killer.”
Dean lowered the blade and released the choke hold on his brother’s neck. Sam turned around to face him.
“I could have slit your throat,” Dean said quietly. He was clearly thinking of something other than what he was saying.
“But you didn’t.”
“You’re lucky.”
“That’s what I was counting on when I walked in here.” He grinned a lewd grin. Dean wasn’t buying it. “Look Dean, I was wrong before. Well no, not wrong.”
“Here we go again.” Dean ran a hand across his hair and turned away from Sam.
Sam sighed. “Look Dean, I just want to stop talking about this. Can we stop talking about this?:
“I’m with you on that one.”
“Good.” Sam’s voice was closer now and a moment later Dean felt his brother’s long arms encircle him from behind, pulling him back against his body. Sam put his lips on his brother’s shoulder, felt the muscles there relax and knew this was as close to an acknowledgment of surrender as he was going to get. He reached past Dean for the soap, rubbed it between his palms and replaced it.
“Not clean enough?”
“Shut up Dean.” Sam commanded, though his soapy hands sliding over Dean’s body probably had more of an effect than his words. Sam felt Dean’s weight shift. He leaned back, allowing Sam to support him. The importance of the gesture was not lost on Sam. Dean took care of everyone else, but who took care of Dean? Sam decided then and there that he was going to be that person. His hand swept the hard nub of one of Dean’s nipples and Dean leaned further back, now resting his head against Sam’s shoulder. Sam decided he liked this feeling. His hand traveled lower, slipping across Dean’s abdomen. Dean tightened at the touch but Sam knew it was nothing like the resistance of the night before. He reached for the soap again, slicked up his hands once more and then stepped back slightly.
Dean was confused until he felt Sam’s lips on the back of his neck, on his shoulders, under his ear, ohgod in his ear, and then ohfuckyes Sam’s tongue in his ear. And then that tongue was dragging back across his neck, stopping to kiss and lick along the way. Dean leaned froward now, bracing himself against the wall of the shower. Sam kept licking and kissing a deliciously slow trail straight down Dean’s spine. Dean heard Sam behind him but couldn’t force his eyes open to see what was going on. He figured it out soon enough. Sam was on his knees now in back of him. His lips were back on the base of Dean’s back and his soapy hands gripped Dean’s hips. Sam kept kissing, moving further and further down, dragging his tongue, nuzzling his nose into Dean’s ass. And then Dean felt it. Sam’s hand, his slick finger seeking entrance, gently probing, sending small shocks through nerve endings Dean didn’t even know he had. He bit his lower lip and rocked gently back onto Sam’s hand.
That was all the encouragement Sam needed. He worked his finger deeper, still kissing and nuzzling and soaking up the scent of his brother that a thousand showers could never wash away.
He was past the point of resistance, on the point of being able to sink all the way in.
“Sam - “
“Shhhhhh. You’re gonna like this.”
“I already do.” The choked words made Sam smile. “But -
Sam went from being lightheaded with pleasuring his brother, to pissed as hell and ready to fight. “But what Dean! I thought we weren’t going to talk about this anymore!” Sam pulled his finger out too abruptly as far as Dean was concerned and stood up.
Dean turned around to face him. “Dude, it’s just that,” he looked sheepishly down at his shrinking dick, “the water’s freezing.” Dean gave Sam that look again, the one that had melted him back at Ellen’s, the one that was certainly going to be added to the that porn reel in his mind. No wait. Dean, standing wet and naked in front of him, giving him *that* look. This called for an entirely new reel. Forget Dean and all those girls. This was going to be “Sammy Does Dean”.
Chapter Eight
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17 - eventually
Summary: Summary:I began this on Ash Wednesday, wondering what Dean would give up for Lent. Sam has visions. Dean finds out what that necklace is really for. Oh, and the boys have sex!
Notes/Warnings:The w-word, angst, angst about the w-word.
Disclaimer:Alas, they're mine only in my head
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
They drove west all day. The silence that hung between them was different than that of the day before, a strange mixture now of anticipation and resolution. Everything seemed to be coming to a head all at once. Several hours into the drive Dean looked over at Sam who was leaning back, eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping. A wave of love and protectiveness and desire washed over him, stronger that any feeling he had ever known. Dean reached out to splay his hand on Sam’s chest. “It’ll be alright,” he murmured softly, too softly to be heard.
Dean was about to take his hand away when Sam reached up to keep it there. “Don’t stop.” Dean felt his brother’s breathing get shallower. Sam shifted in the seat, sliding further down and spreading his legs farther apart. He moved Dean’s hand slowly down his chest toward his groin.
“How long have you been awake?” Dean asked, trying to be nonchalant about the bulge he was feeling in his brother’s pants
“Never was asleep,” Sam responded. “Been thinking of you. What you said before.”
Dean’s finger ran over a wet spot on Sam’s jeans. His eyes widened. His own cock twitched in response to what he was hearing and feeling. It was getting hard to drive. “Back seat?” he asked with a smirk, half joking and, yeah, half serious.
Sam’s eyes opened at that, not sure which cue to read even though he had been the one to start this exchange. “What? You think I’m going to have a threesome?”
“Huh?”
“You, me and the Impala.”
Dean laughed the easy laugh Sam loved to hear.
“I know you,” Sam continued. “You’d give her more attention than me. I’d be jealous.”
“Hey if you had fins -
“I always am -
They each spoke over the other so that it took a few seconds for Dean to register what Sam had just said. Sam looked away - worried that he had crossed a line, ruined a perfectly good moment. Damn, why couldn’t he just leave a good thing alone?
“Jealous of me and the car?” Dean said, though it was clear he knew that was not what Sam meant.
“Jealous of all the other girls. Of Jo.”
“Jo! Jo and I - we’re not -
“Oh yeah? Well you better tell her that because I think she has an entirely different impression.” Sam was smiling when he began speaking, but somehow, by the end of that sentence he was - pissed. He could not have said why, but he was suddenly, stupendously, pissed. “You know what? The more I think about this the more I think it’s a bad idea. You *should* be with Jo. That’s where you were headed before - this,” he waved his hand in a vague gesture that included the two of them “whatever this is.”
Dean just glanced over at him, holding his eyes for as long as he could before he had to look back at the road. He let a good five minutes tick by before he finally responded.
“You’re right. Bad idea.”
Sam agreed. Bad idea for him to have opened his mouth in the first place. Why couldn’t he, why couldn’t *they*, just let themselves have this.
“Dean, I - “
“No Sam. You’re one hundred percent right. What the fuck were we thinking? Besides, we’ve got other things to think about.”
Sam wanted to hit Dean again for doing this, but really he had brought it on himself. He wanted Dean. And he wanted Dean alive. And it didn’t seem that it was possible to have both. So he was pulling this stupid push/pull crap on Dean who did not deserve it. Sam was still pissed, but now it was directed at himself rather than his brother.
Back to silence.
*****************
They finally stopped at a motel at about midnight. Dean figured they’d get a few hours of sleep and then head out again at dawn. They were both suffering from that woozy been in a car too long feeling - even when you’ve gotten out of the car you can still almost feel forward movement, pavement sliding away under your feet. Sam at least was feeling this way. He was being propelled down roads he’d never thought he’d travel, frightening and exhilarating at the same time, to the point where he didn’t know which situation was producing which reaction anymore.
Sam had no clue how Dean felt because Dean hadn’t really talked to Sam for a few hours. When they got into the room Dean dropped his bag and headed into the bathroom. “I need a shower,” he said flatly and shut the door without looking at Sam.
Sam was left to sit on the edge of one of the beds, feeling like crap. He was an idiot, an asshole, the worst kind of jerk. All he had to do was explain to Dean and it would be fine.
He laughed. Like hell. The term “fine” had no chance of applying to any facet of his life - probably ever again. For however long (more likely short) as that was. And maybe that was the point. Things weren’t going to be fine, no picket fences and 2.5 children, no distinguished law career, hell, no career at all. But there were things he could have. And time was running out. He couldn’t *not* do something.
“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.” he said out loud. The words hung in the air like a challenge more than a sign of resignation. Which was it going to be - do or don’t?
***********************
It was shaping up to be another one of those showers for Dean, the kind where he stood there for far too long because it felt like the only safe place. Well, as safe as things were ever going to be for him. Even with his eyes closed and his head under the pounding stream of water though he was acutely aware that he may not be as safe there as he thought. Dean was always wound painfully tight, but tight had kept him and Sam alive and he wasn’t about to change his ways at this point. He heard the door. Opened by someone who did not want him to know the door had been opened. It wasn’t much of a trick to distinguish between the noises made in the normal course of living a normal life and those that were not intended to be heard. By now, for Dean, the sound of stealth was always louder. And he was always ready.
He managed to accomplish several things in one fluid movement. He had the shower curtain pulled aside and the intruder by the neck, blade poised at his throat before even he realized what he was doing.
“Jesus Dean! You shower with a freaking knife?”
“Stainless steel..”
“Well, don’t kill me, ok.”
Dean didn’t answer.
“Does that mean you were thinking of killing me?”
Dean still didn’t answer.
“Yell at me Dean. Say something.”
“You’re naked.”
“Yeah, and you’re still holding a knife to my throat, which, I have to tell you, is a real mood killer.”
Dean lowered the blade and released the choke hold on his brother’s neck. Sam turned around to face him.
“I could have slit your throat,” Dean said quietly. He was clearly thinking of something other than what he was saying.
“But you didn’t.”
“You’re lucky.”
“That’s what I was counting on when I walked in here.” He grinned a lewd grin. Dean wasn’t buying it. “Look Dean, I was wrong before. Well no, not wrong.”
“Here we go again.” Dean ran a hand across his hair and turned away from Sam.
Sam sighed. “Look Dean, I just want to stop talking about this. Can we stop talking about this?:
“I’m with you on that one.”
“Good.” Sam’s voice was closer now and a moment later Dean felt his brother’s long arms encircle him from behind, pulling him back against his body. Sam put his lips on his brother’s shoulder, felt the muscles there relax and knew this was as close to an acknowledgment of surrender as he was going to get. He reached past Dean for the soap, rubbed it between his palms and replaced it.
“Not clean enough?”
“Shut up Dean.” Sam commanded, though his soapy hands sliding over Dean’s body probably had more of an effect than his words. Sam felt Dean’s weight shift. He leaned back, allowing Sam to support him. The importance of the gesture was not lost on Sam. Dean took care of everyone else, but who took care of Dean? Sam decided then and there that he was going to be that person. His hand swept the hard nub of one of Dean’s nipples and Dean leaned further back, now resting his head against Sam’s shoulder. Sam decided he liked this feeling. His hand traveled lower, slipping across Dean’s abdomen. Dean tightened at the touch but Sam knew it was nothing like the resistance of the night before. He reached for the soap again, slicked up his hands once more and then stepped back slightly.
Dean was confused until he felt Sam’s lips on the back of his neck, on his shoulders, under his ear, ohgod in his ear, and then ohfuckyes Sam’s tongue in his ear. And then that tongue was dragging back across his neck, stopping to kiss and lick along the way. Dean leaned froward now, bracing himself against the wall of the shower. Sam kept licking and kissing a deliciously slow trail straight down Dean’s spine. Dean heard Sam behind him but couldn’t force his eyes open to see what was going on. He figured it out soon enough. Sam was on his knees now in back of him. His lips were back on the base of Dean’s back and his soapy hands gripped Dean’s hips. Sam kept kissing, moving further and further down, dragging his tongue, nuzzling his nose into Dean’s ass. And then Dean felt it. Sam’s hand, his slick finger seeking entrance, gently probing, sending small shocks through nerve endings Dean didn’t even know he had. He bit his lower lip and rocked gently back onto Sam’s hand.
That was all the encouragement Sam needed. He worked his finger deeper, still kissing and nuzzling and soaking up the scent of his brother that a thousand showers could never wash away.
He was past the point of resistance, on the point of being able to sink all the way in.
“Sam - “
“Shhhhhh. You’re gonna like this.”
“I already do.” The choked words made Sam smile. “But -
Sam went from being lightheaded with pleasuring his brother, to pissed as hell and ready to fight. “But what Dean! I thought we weren’t going to talk about this anymore!” Sam pulled his finger out too abruptly as far as Dean was concerned and stood up.
Dean turned around to face him. “Dude, it’s just that,” he looked sheepishly down at his shrinking dick, “the water’s freezing.” Dean gave Sam that look again, the one that had melted him back at Ellen’s, the one that was certainly going to be added to the that porn reel in his mind. No wait. Dean, standing wet and naked in front of him, giving him *that* look. This called for an entirely new reel. Forget Dean and all those girls. This was going to be “Sammy Does Dean”.
Chapter Eight
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-28 10:12 pm (UTC)Kat