Ash Wednesday - Chapter 8
Jun. 12th, 2007 07:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runedgirlTitle:Ash Wednesday
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
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 Chapter 7
There’s more time to think than Dean would ever have imagined in between Sam turning the water off and him stepping out of the shower.
This isn’t necessarily a good thing.
Every instinct told Dean to keep his mouth shut. When he and Sam were on a hunt they hardly ever spoke. Gestures, syllables, grunts, was all they needed. And it worked. It kept them alive. Somehow Dean knew in his gut that this was no different, that he should just let instinct take over.
But where Sam was concerned lately his instinct was all shot to hell. Too many conflicting impulses. Save him. Damn him. And even between these the lines were so blurry now that he wasn’t sure he knew which was which anymore. Or if there even was a difference.
What he did know was that he body ached for his brother. Ached with his own desire, but also in sympathy with what Sam was going through. And with what he was probably facing. And Dean ached too with the knowledge that he probably couldn’t do anything to stop any of it. They were both going to have to ride this one out. Where they landed when this was all over was anyone’s guess.
When Sam came up behind him and spun him around, all Dean could see was that smile. Sam smiling at him. Reassuring. Content. Happy. When the hell was the last time Dean had seen Sam happy? Had he ever?
So instinct took over. The instinct to protect. To keep Sam happy. And if it made him happy as well? Bonus. And if it broke him into the bargain? Collateral damage. Now that his path was clear, Dean didn’t lose any time taking the next step. He leaned in and caught Sam’s lips with his own. It was quick, tentative, and tense. Dean stepped back to gauge Sam’s reaction, still not entirely trusting instinct.
“Do that again,” Sam said simply and Dean moved in for another kiss, just catching Sam’s bottom lip this time, sucking on it briefly before parting once more.
“And again,” Sam said with far less breath than he had managed before. Dean obliged with a deeper kiss, his tongue pressing for entrance and then drawing back.
“Don’t stop Dean,” Sam murmured into his mouth.
Dean searched Sam’s eyes for final confirmation. “You mean that Sammy?”
By way of answer Sam slammed Dean against the bathroom door, pinning Dean’s shoulders with his hands and kissing him harder than he had ever kissed anyone in his life. And then, Dean kissed back. Even harder.
The force of Dean’s response almost knocked Sam off balance, which was fine with Dean. He grabbed Sam’s arms, breaking his hold and then flipped them around so Sam was the one pinned against the door. Sam’s arms wrapped around Dean so tightly Dean thought his ribs would break. He didn’t care. Sam’s fingers dug deeply into Dean’s back and Dean knew there would be marks in the morning. He couldn’t wait. He hoped they hurt. They were like feral children, clawing, scratching, biting one another, careful not to do serious damage, but not too careful.
When they broke contact for just a second, Dean searched Sam’s eyes. He saw nothing there but dilated desire. An invitation to dangerous lust, writ large. Dean didn’t need to be invited twice. He ground his hips against Sam, against his cock. His cock. Dean hadn’t really looked before - and certainly not under these circumstances. What was familiar in one context (brothers sharing a hotel room together for a year or more saw each other naked from time to time) now was completely unfamiliar. Dean pulled away and looked down. Sam, hard and already dripping, dripping all over him. Dean almost lost it then and there. Had to draw in several deep breaths to steady himself. Not easy when Sam was grabbing him again, this time by the hips, renewing the contact, and grinding his own hips now against his brother, bending to suck hard enough on Dean’s neck to make him wince and then kissing him again, so hard Dean thought they’d break each other’s teeth.
Dean barely had the presence of mind to reach past Sam and turn the knob on the bathroom door, pulling them both off it and spinning them around so that he was the first one out, pulling Sam, lips still locked, into the room after him. Dean shifted them one more time, pushed Sam down on one of the beds and was on top of him, grabbing his knees and pushing them up, then pulling Sam’s ass closer.
“Wait. You need lube,” Sam said panting. He pushed Dean off and went to his bag, fishing around in one of the side pockets until he came up with a tube.
“How do you know that?”
“Dean, I was living at a college for four years, not a monastery.”
“Sam - have you ever?”
Sam looked down, suddenly reluctant to meet Dean’s gaze. “Just, you know, fooling around. Nothing - . Not - . You’re the first Dean.” He blushed from ear to ear.
“So why do you have it now?”
“Semper preparatatus.”
“Only you would invoke the boy scout motto at time like this.”
In response Sam threw the tube at Dean’s head. Dean ducked and then found it where it landed on the bed behind him. “Says the man who showers with a knife.”
“Never mind that. Come here my little Webelo,” Dean said with the biggest, shit-eatingist grin Sam had ever seen.
Sam came back toward the bed, grinning. When he reached Dean, the smile faded, his lips parted as if to speak and then he stopped, looked down, before catching Dean’s eyes again. “Time like what, Dean?” His voice was low and husky now.
Dean pulled Sam down and then quickly straddled him. “Like when you’re about to be fucked senseless by your brother.”
“I like the sound of that,” Sam said dreamily.
“Perv.”
“Well, yeah.” he grinned and then his eyes went dark. “Do it Dean.”
In his rush, Dean squirted out half the tube onto his index and middle fingers, slicking them up and then applying what was left in his hand to the pink hole that was suddenly all he could see. He leaned forward, bracing himself against Sam’s chest with one hand and using only his index finger at first.
“Damn.”
“What?” Sam asked anxiously, expecting yet another discussion about why this was a bad idea.
“I always knew you were a tight ass, but *this.* Jesus Sammy, relax for me or I’m going to tear you apart.”
Sam shot up, almost knocking Dean off him, and caught his face between his two hands. “I can’t relax, and you *are* tearing me apart. Please Dean, just do it. Please.”
Dean understood exactly what Sam was asking for. All of it. And he wasn’t about to deny him. He pushed Sam back down, grabbed his knees again and positioned Sam beneath him grabbing a pillow to slide under Sam’s back to get a better angle. Then he grabbed his own cock, slicking himself with the rest of the lube on his hand. He spread Sam’s compliant legs as far as they would go, found Sam’s opening first with his finger and then with the tip of his cock.
“Look at me Sammy.”
Sam turned his head, opened his eyes and locked onto the dark green gaze of his brother.
Dean thrust in, all at once, sinking down to his balls into his brother. He heard a moan (or was it a scream?) but it sounded far away and he couldn’t be sure if it was him or Sam or both. He felt suddenly disembodied. Sam wasn’t there and Dean wasn’t Dean. Everything went white and then images, one after the other, flooded his vision. It was as if he were seeing things, but not with his eyes, as if he were spying on a memory in someone else’s head. And it wasn’t a good memory. What the fuck? Demons? Now? Laughing? Just as suddenly as he had been drawn into the vortex of the vision, he was thrown out of it, pulled by the sound of his own voice back to the motel room, back to the bed, back to Sam. Dean was slamming into Sam, each thrust so good, so good, that it almost brought tears to his eyes. Sam was gripping the bedsheets as though they were the only things keeping him anchored to the planet, eyes clenched tightly until he felt Dean’s hand on his cock. At that touch, Sam’s blue eyes snapped open and locked on his brother’s.
“Cum for me Sammy,” Dean blurted out, feeling himself about to shatter into a million shards of broken glass. He lost it at the first sight of Sam’s cum coating his hand. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out and tasted blood. Then he bit harder.
When Dean could breathe again he looked at Sam as if trying to figure something out. Sam couldn’t read the look, was on the verge of asking what was the matter, when Dean reached out and backhanded Sam hard across the face. “Sonofabitch!”
“What the fuck?” Sam tried to scramble out from under Dean, but his brother had him pinned.
“You fucking lied to me!” Dean yelled and raised his hand to hit Sam again. Sam flinched and Dean backed off standing up and backing away as far as the small room would allow.
“Dean, I don’t know - “
“Don’t you do it again!! Don’t you dare.” It was clear Dean was trying to hold it together and it was just as clear he was losing the battle. Tears ran down his face. “I was in you.”
“Yeah Dean, I know.”
“No, I was inside you. Inside your head. Just now.”
“I don’t understand. Dean, let’s just - “ Sam was getting off the bed but Dean raised a hand in a gesture that clearly told Sam to keep his distance.
“I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I know what you saw. In your vision.”
“How could you know?”
“I told you! I don’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well apparently I just did.” Sam knew he had no right to be, but he was on the defensive and feeling angry himself.
“He’s coming for me too, isn’t he - the demon. He wants us both.”
“Yes.” Sam said it grudgingly, through clenched teeth and tight lips.
“And you know why?”
“No,” Sam said emphatically but there was no real weight behind it. “Not really. I’m not sure, but I think you’re a - “ He stopped, unwilling to articulate what he feared.
“I’m a what, Sam?”
“You’re a key. You’re supposed to unlock something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know for sure. But I think it’s me. And I think you just did.”
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
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 Chapter 7
There’s more time to think than Dean would ever have imagined in between Sam turning the water off and him stepping out of the shower.
This isn’t necessarily a good thing.
Every instinct told Dean to keep his mouth shut. When he and Sam were on a hunt they hardly ever spoke. Gestures, syllables, grunts, was all they needed. And it worked. It kept them alive. Somehow Dean knew in his gut that this was no different, that he should just let instinct take over.
But where Sam was concerned lately his instinct was all shot to hell. Too many conflicting impulses. Save him. Damn him. And even between these the lines were so blurry now that he wasn’t sure he knew which was which anymore. Or if there even was a difference.
What he did know was that he body ached for his brother. Ached with his own desire, but also in sympathy with what Sam was going through. And with what he was probably facing. And Dean ached too with the knowledge that he probably couldn’t do anything to stop any of it. They were both going to have to ride this one out. Where they landed when this was all over was anyone’s guess.
When Sam came up behind him and spun him around, all Dean could see was that smile. Sam smiling at him. Reassuring. Content. Happy. When the hell was the last time Dean had seen Sam happy? Had he ever?
So instinct took over. The instinct to protect. To keep Sam happy. And if it made him happy as well? Bonus. And if it broke him into the bargain? Collateral damage. Now that his path was clear, Dean didn’t lose any time taking the next step. He leaned in and caught Sam’s lips with his own. It was quick, tentative, and tense. Dean stepped back to gauge Sam’s reaction, still not entirely trusting instinct.
“Do that again,” Sam said simply and Dean moved in for another kiss, just catching Sam’s bottom lip this time, sucking on it briefly before parting once more.
“And again,” Sam said with far less breath than he had managed before. Dean obliged with a deeper kiss, his tongue pressing for entrance and then drawing back.
“Don’t stop Dean,” Sam murmured into his mouth.
Dean searched Sam’s eyes for final confirmation. “You mean that Sammy?”
By way of answer Sam slammed Dean against the bathroom door, pinning Dean’s shoulders with his hands and kissing him harder than he had ever kissed anyone in his life. And then, Dean kissed back. Even harder.
The force of Dean’s response almost knocked Sam off balance, which was fine with Dean. He grabbed Sam’s arms, breaking his hold and then flipped them around so Sam was the one pinned against the door. Sam’s arms wrapped around Dean so tightly Dean thought his ribs would break. He didn’t care. Sam’s fingers dug deeply into Dean’s back and Dean knew there would be marks in the morning. He couldn’t wait. He hoped they hurt. They were like feral children, clawing, scratching, biting one another, careful not to do serious damage, but not too careful.
When they broke contact for just a second, Dean searched Sam’s eyes. He saw nothing there but dilated desire. An invitation to dangerous lust, writ large. Dean didn’t need to be invited twice. He ground his hips against Sam, against his cock. His cock. Dean hadn’t really looked before - and certainly not under these circumstances. What was familiar in one context (brothers sharing a hotel room together for a year or more saw each other naked from time to time) now was completely unfamiliar. Dean pulled away and looked down. Sam, hard and already dripping, dripping all over him. Dean almost lost it then and there. Had to draw in several deep breaths to steady himself. Not easy when Sam was grabbing him again, this time by the hips, renewing the contact, and grinding his own hips now against his brother, bending to suck hard enough on Dean’s neck to make him wince and then kissing him again, so hard Dean thought they’d break each other’s teeth.
Dean barely had the presence of mind to reach past Sam and turn the knob on the bathroom door, pulling them both off it and spinning them around so that he was the first one out, pulling Sam, lips still locked, into the room after him. Dean shifted them one more time, pushed Sam down on one of the beds and was on top of him, grabbing his knees and pushing them up, then pulling Sam’s ass closer.
“Wait. You need lube,” Sam said panting. He pushed Dean off and went to his bag, fishing around in one of the side pockets until he came up with a tube.
“How do you know that?”
“Dean, I was living at a college for four years, not a monastery.”
“Sam - have you ever?”
Sam looked down, suddenly reluctant to meet Dean’s gaze. “Just, you know, fooling around. Nothing - . Not - . You’re the first Dean.” He blushed from ear to ear.
“So why do you have it now?”
“Semper preparatatus.”
“Only you would invoke the boy scout motto at time like this.”
In response Sam threw the tube at Dean’s head. Dean ducked and then found it where it landed on the bed behind him. “Says the man who showers with a knife.”
“Never mind that. Come here my little Webelo,” Dean said with the biggest, shit-eatingist grin Sam had ever seen.
Sam came back toward the bed, grinning. When he reached Dean, the smile faded, his lips parted as if to speak and then he stopped, looked down, before catching Dean’s eyes again. “Time like what, Dean?” His voice was low and husky now.
Dean pulled Sam down and then quickly straddled him. “Like when you’re about to be fucked senseless by your brother.”
“I like the sound of that,” Sam said dreamily.
“Perv.”
“Well, yeah.” he grinned and then his eyes went dark. “Do it Dean.”
In his rush, Dean squirted out half the tube onto his index and middle fingers, slicking them up and then applying what was left in his hand to the pink hole that was suddenly all he could see. He leaned forward, bracing himself against Sam’s chest with one hand and using only his index finger at first.
“Damn.”
“What?” Sam asked anxiously, expecting yet another discussion about why this was a bad idea.
“I always knew you were a tight ass, but *this.* Jesus Sammy, relax for me or I’m going to tear you apart.”
Sam shot up, almost knocking Dean off him, and caught his face between his two hands. “I can’t relax, and you *are* tearing me apart. Please Dean, just do it. Please.”
Dean understood exactly what Sam was asking for. All of it. And he wasn’t about to deny him. He pushed Sam back down, grabbed his knees again and positioned Sam beneath him grabbing a pillow to slide under Sam’s back to get a better angle. Then he grabbed his own cock, slicking himself with the rest of the lube on his hand. He spread Sam’s compliant legs as far as they would go, found Sam’s opening first with his finger and then with the tip of his cock.
“Look at me Sammy.”
Sam turned his head, opened his eyes and locked onto the dark green gaze of his brother.
Dean thrust in, all at once, sinking down to his balls into his brother. He heard a moan (or was it a scream?) but it sounded far away and he couldn’t be sure if it was him or Sam or both. He felt suddenly disembodied. Sam wasn’t there and Dean wasn’t Dean. Everything went white and then images, one after the other, flooded his vision. It was as if he were seeing things, but not with his eyes, as if he were spying on a memory in someone else’s head. And it wasn’t a good memory. What the fuck? Demons? Now? Laughing? Just as suddenly as he had been drawn into the vortex of the vision, he was thrown out of it, pulled by the sound of his own voice back to the motel room, back to the bed, back to Sam. Dean was slamming into Sam, each thrust so good, so good, that it almost brought tears to his eyes. Sam was gripping the bedsheets as though they were the only things keeping him anchored to the planet, eyes clenched tightly until he felt Dean’s hand on his cock. At that touch, Sam’s blue eyes snapped open and locked on his brother’s.
“Cum for me Sammy,” Dean blurted out, feeling himself about to shatter into a million shards of broken glass. He lost it at the first sight of Sam’s cum coating his hand. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out and tasted blood. Then he bit harder.
When Dean could breathe again he looked at Sam as if trying to figure something out. Sam couldn’t read the look, was on the verge of asking what was the matter, when Dean reached out and backhanded Sam hard across the face. “Sonofabitch!”
“What the fuck?” Sam tried to scramble out from under Dean, but his brother had him pinned.
“You fucking lied to me!” Dean yelled and raised his hand to hit Sam again. Sam flinched and Dean backed off standing up and backing away as far as the small room would allow.
“Dean, I don’t know - “
“Don’t you do it again!! Don’t you dare.” It was clear Dean was trying to hold it together and it was just as clear he was losing the battle. Tears ran down his face. “I was in you.”
“Yeah Dean, I know.”
“No, I was inside you. Inside your head. Just now.”
“I don’t understand. Dean, let’s just - “ Sam was getting off the bed but Dean raised a hand in a gesture that clearly told Sam to keep his distance.
“I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I know what you saw. In your vision.”
“How could you know?”
“I told you! I don’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well apparently I just did.” Sam knew he had no right to be, but he was on the defensive and feeling angry himself.
“He’s coming for me too, isn’t he - the demon. He wants us both.”
“Yes.” Sam said it grudgingly, through clenched teeth and tight lips.
“And you know why?”
“No,” Sam said emphatically but there was no real weight behind it. “Not really. I’m not sure, but I think you’re a - “ He stopped, unwilling to articulate what he feared.
“I’m a what, Sam?”
“You’re a key. You’re supposed to unlock something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know for sure. But I think it’s me. And I think you just did.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-15 12:18 am (UTC)Cat
no subject
Date: 2009-01-15 01:42 pm (UTC)Guess this means I need to write a *real* ending then.
Thanks for reading, and nudging me toward completion.
kat
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Date: 2009-01-15 02:02 pm (UTC)Cat