Stay, Part Two (Superntural, Sam/Dean, #6 - papercut)
Title: Stay Part Two
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Theme: 6 - papercut
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural. Warnings: Slash, incest, het
Since they had always been in each other's space, the only change was that some lines got blurred. They had one bed instead of two. They saved time by showering together, or at least that is what they told themselves.
Hunting still lead to arguments and injuries. Weapons still needed to be cleaned, sharpened and restocked. Creatures still came in all shapes and sizes seemingly out to destroy the Winchesters personally. Luckily, the boys were prepared.
Sam stitched up the slashes in Dean's back. What should have been an easy hunt took a bit of a turn when there was one more monster than they expected or saw when they entered the lair.
"Could you not tug so hard each time through?" Dean complained. "Give me the bottle if you're going to be so rough."
"I have to get them tight enough to hold together," Sam replied while concentrating. "Here's the bottle if it'll shut you up. Just leave a quarter to clean the wound when I'm done."
"When you going to fix your arm?" Dean pointed at a slash on Sam's bicep that had been quickly covered with gauze and an awkward bandage that was bleeding through. "Want me to do it for you?"
"After you've drunk all that alcohol? I think I'll do it myself. I still have your flask of whiskey that I can use."
"Suit yourself. You damn near done back there?" he tried to look over his shoulder to see Sam's work.
"Quit your moving and I'll be done much quicker."
"Fine," he sank back to his defeated position.
Sam's cell rang.
"You'd better not answer it."
"What if it's Bobby calling to make sure we’re okay?" Sam was already setting down the needle and thread to grab for his phone. "Hello?"
"Sam?" Jess was crying. "I didn't know who else to call. My dad just had a stoke and they don't think he's going to make it. I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but can you come get me? I need you, Sam."
"Wait. Your dad is in the hospital?"
"Yes."
"I'm a few states away. I'll get there as soon as I can, okay?"
Jess sniffled.
"Maybe Becky can stay with you until I get there?" He suggested, feeling helpless so far away.
"I can call her."
"Do that. I'll call you when I'm close so you can pack your bag and be ready to go."
"Thanks, Sam."
Jess was still fighting to control her sobs when Sam hung up.
"What was that all about?" Dean had waited until the call was disconnected before questioning Sam about it.
"Jess needs me to take her to her parents' place. Her dad's in the hospital and she needs to be there."
"You've been gone for months. Why'd she call you?"
"We're still friends, Dean."
"So you're making that long trip as just her friend?"
"What are you getting at?"
"Nothing, Sam. That's my point. After all, it's just us here and you're used to running out. Why should this time be any different?"
"You went when Cassie needed you."
"Yes, I did. It was a case. We both went."
"You slept with her."
"That was way before we started whatever it is we have. This is different."
"I'm not going to try get in her pants. She needs me."
"I'm sure she does."
Sam finished wrapping Dean's stitches. Then, he went to the bathroom to attend to his own wound. While he worked, he thought about what Dean had said. He was right in the fact that they had grown closer after Cassie had entered and exited their lives. How could he assure Dean that seeing Jess wouldn't change anything? Or, would seeing Jess bring back his romantic feelings for her?
Dean was reclined on the bed when Sam was done. Sam paused, ready to explain to Dean what he'd been thinking. Dean didn't give him a chance.
"Just go, Sammy. No use hanging around."
"I shouldn't be gone long."
"You don't know that."
Sighing, Sam replied, "I plan on being back soon. I'll acquire my own car. Where should I meet you at?"
"Depends on when it is. I might head over to Bobby's."
"Really? Good. Old guy could probably use the company."
Dean didn't get off the bed and Sam didn't approach him to say goodbye. A brief farewell called from the door sufficed.
***
“What’s going on, Dean?”
“Just tuning up the Impala. Why?” Dean answered from under the hood. He’d been avoiding this certain conversation since his arrival at the scrap yard the week before.
“I’ve got lots of questions. Where’s Sam, for one. Why haven’t you been cruising the bar in town for chicks, for two. And three--”
“I get the picture, Bobby. I’ve been a little out of character but I’m just sorting a few things out in my head.”
“And where’s Sam?”
“Jess from Stanford needed his help.”
“And you didn’t go with?”
“It wasn’t a hunt. Her dad’s sick and she needed him. He left the same night.”
Knowing Dean’s past issues with abandonment, Bobby knew that Sam leaving couldn’t have been good.
"When's he coming back?"
"I don't know. He didn't say."
"He is coming back, isn't he?"
"Said he was." Dean wiped his hands on a rag. "That's all I've got, Bobby. He didn't say anything else."
"And you're fine with that?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Bobby shrugged.
"Think I could have a beer?"
"Sure. come on." Bobby turned and walked back to the house, thankful that his awkward conversation with Dean was over.
***
"Dean, hey. I was hoping to catch you, but I guess Bobby's got you busy fixing the clunkers. I'm not sure when I'll be back. Jess's dad passed and they're making the necessary arrangements. I'll meet up with you as soon as I get Jess back to Stanford. You can call me if . . . Scratch that. Just call me. Bye."
***
Dean purposely let his phone go to voicemail and listened to Sam's messages as soon as he'd left them. He would have answered if he'd had a clue what to say to Sam, but he was so hurt and didn't want Sam to hear it in his voice.
Days at the scrapyard were filled with car repairs, beer and shooting the breeze. Bobby was an expert at avoiding touchy topics and could navigate nearly any landmine. He and Dean settled into a routine that was almost too domesticated for the two hunters. There were a few visitors that needed to pick Bobby's brain, but other than the customers, Bobby's driveway remained clear. Dean checked it several times a day, hoping to see Sam walking down the lane.
"Has he called?"
"Huh?"
"Sam. You heard from him?"
"Yeah. Jess's dad died so he's staying with her until she returns to college."
"Any idea when that will be?"
"Nope. Not until he calls or just shows up."
"Kid's walking on thin ice, isn't he?"
"What? He doesn't have to answer to me."
"And you're not just waiting here for him?"
Dean looked right at Bobby. "If' I'm overstaying my welcome, just tell me."
"Of course not. You know you're always welcome here."
"Good. Can we change the topic now? Did you get that Plymouth running yet?"
With a frown on his face, Bobby grabbed the sandwich he'd been making. "No. Thanks for the reminder of that frustration. You want to take a shot at it?"
"Hell, no. Do I look like I want a headache?"
"Fine." Bobby went toward the door. "You'll know where to find me." The screen door slammed after he passed through.
"Good luck bonding with the Plymouth," Dean muttered once he was out of earshot.
***
"Hey, Dean. We'll be leaving tomorrow so I'll be able to head out the day after. Where are you at? I tried Bobby's and there was no answer. I haven't heard from you since I left. Anyway, call me. Bye."
Dean stood up from the couch, walked over to the answering machine, and erased the message Sam had left for Bobby. He felt a little bad at the underlying panic in Sam's voice but not bad enough to call him back right away. If Sam wanted to be gone, he could be gone. Dean was fine on his own.
"They call about that part yet?" Bobby's voice startled him.
"No, they didn't."
"Who was on the phone then?"
"Wrong number."
Bobby let his suspicions slide and didn't bring it up again.
***
A knock on the door drew Dean's attention from the book he'd been looking through in Bobby's library. After making sure he had his handgun, he walked through the living room to the front entrance.
"Surprise." Sam stood there on the porch and didn't seem amused. He stepped past Dean. "So, would it have killed you to call me? Just let me know you're still alive if nothing else?"
"I've been busy."
"Uh-huh." Sam knew Bobby's house was never too busy to answer a stinking phone.
"Look, you're here now. I didn't hear you pull up. How'd you get here?"
"Dropped the borrowed car off on the way here and hitch-hiked the rest of the way."
"You shouldn't do that. I could have picked you up."
"Yeah, if you were answering your damn phone."
"Well, you made it here in one piece. I guess that's what matters."
Bobby came in from outside. "Thought I saw you walking up the drive. Where you been, stranger?" He gave the boy a one-armed hug.
"Nowhere, really. Just helping out a friend."
One look at the two of them and Bobby knew there was something he definitely didn't want to get in the middle of. "Well, nice to have you here. Feel like making supper? I'm tired of brats and beans and Dean's specialty seems to be inedible pancakes."
"It was just that one morning--"
"I damn near broke a tooth!" Bobby exaggerated for their benefit to get a laugh out of them. "So, you cooking or not?"
"I'll whip something up." Sam set his bag down in the living room. "So, any suggestions?"
Dean escaped back into Bobby's library as soon as possible. Bobby and Sam could figure out the meal. Dean didn't feel all that hungry anyway.
"What's up with Dean?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
"Me? How would I know? I've been gone."
"Yep. You have, haven't you? You left and Dean's screwed up over it. Doesn't happen to sound familiar, does it?"
Sam was stunned silent. Bobby left him with plenty to think about and limited pantry items. He'd known Dean wasn't going to make his return smooth, but he expected it to be easier than it had gone.
***
The were a couple of days out from Bobby's in the Impala when Sam couldn't stand it anymore. "Doesn't the silent treatment seem a little childish to you?"
"What? I just haven't had much to say."
"For days, Dean?"
"Hey, I've talked."
"Yeah, only if it's about the case."
"Well, that is what's important."
Frustrated, Sam asked, "So do you want to tell me why we've been getting double rooms?"
"It's all they had."
"I might believe that except for the fact that you actually slept in the other bed. Anything I should know?"
"Nope." Dean stared straight ahead.
Sam gave up for the moment and decided to try to sleep.
***
"Nothing happened when I was gone."
Dean paused sharpening his knife for a second. "You don't say."
"Really, Dean. Nothing happened. Is that what this has been all about?"
"Give the college boy a medal." The constant drag on the whetstone was relaxing to Dean. "You didn't touch her at all?"
"No."
"Did you hold hands?"
"What? I mean, of course I gave her hugs but that was it."
"So you did touch her then?"
"What did you expect? Her father died, Dean."
"How would you like it if I took off and spent a couple weeks with Cassie?"
"I wouldn't like it, but I'd trust you."
"Yeah. See, the difference is that you lived with Jess and were in love with her. That's more history than Cassie and I will ever have. I don't think my concerns are unfounded."
"I came back, Dean. Shouldn't that count for something?"
Dean laughed harshly. "Sure it does. Could be that she kicked your sorry ass out."
"What?"
"I'm saying that you didn't have another place to go. You came back by default, not because it is where you want to be."
"How can you say that?"
"Did you fuck her?" Dean's abrupt question took Sam off guard, just as intended.
"Of course not."
"Kiss her?"
"Not on the lips."
"That sounds suspicious."
"On the cheek, Dean. It was nothing but a harmless peck."
"Harmless. Hmm. I think that depends on which viewpoint you're looking from."
"Christ, Dean! If I thought you were going to get this upset, I wouldn't have gone in the first place!"
"So why did you?"
"Because she needed me. Because you didn't seem to have that big of a problem with it."
"I didn't?"
"Not until I got back. If you were so mad, why didn't you call instead of simmering at Bobby's?"
"Why would I call? You're the one that walked out, Sam, not me."
The magnitude of the hurt Sam had caused with his thoughtlessness began to sink in. "I wasn't leaving for good, Dean. I told you I was coming back."
"But you didn't know when. Yeah, I remember. You stitched me up and ran."
Sam had no argument for that.
***
Gradually, the tension between them eased. It simply took too much energy to stay mad. Although they weren't back to being lovers, they were able to pull off brothers. Dean stuffed all his pain into a neat compartment and tucked it away. Sam, however, struggled with the weight of the pain he caused Dean on a daily basis.
They fit too many hunts into a short period of time. As long as they were busy, neither of them had to think about their relationship, or non-relationship as it was. Exhausted, they checked into the motel. The sound of liquor pouring a couple blocks away was too strong to ignore.
"What do you say to a drink?"
"Sounds like a great way to forget what we saw. You buying?"
"Sorta," Dean pulled a credit card from his wallet. "Wallace Adams is treating this evening."
Sam shook his head but in the end he needed the drink more than he needed to bother Dean about credit card fraud.
They sat in a booth off to the side, away from the bar. They had a good view of the pool tables and the doors.
"Did the best we could, Sammy. We've been stretched thin for quite awhile."
"That's no excuse."
"There has to be a pattern before we can catch on. A pattern already has some victims."
"It shouldn't have to be that way."
"Until we can come up with another system, it's all we've got."
"Still sucks."
"No argument here."
They sat in silence as they downed brew after brew. A plate of nachos later, feeling full from the food and tired from the liquor and previous work of the day, they stumbled a little on the way out the door. Jokingly, they bumped shoulders and argued over who was the best at bullshitting the civilians.
Inside the motel room, the joking continued until jackets were removed and they fell silent. While getting ready for bed, they each tried sneaking looks at the other. They hadn't been together in so long. It was difficult not to be obvious when the looks lingered, drinking in all the skin that was exposed when they were in t-shirts and boxers.
The moment was lost when Sam went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. After Dean had his turn, he came out to find Sam already in bed and the lights were off. He hesitated at the foot of Sam's bed before giving in to the pull toward the other man.
Sam was almost asleep when he felt the bed dip behind him with a familiar weight. He opened his eyes but didn't move, for fear of scaring Dean away.
Lying down on his side, Dean formed himself to Sam's back and slung an arm around him. He buried his nose in Sam's neck and breathed in his scent, letting it calm him as nothing else ever would. Sam relaxed into Dean's body and closed his eyes again. He allowed his arm to float down until he could clasp Dean's hand, keeping it close to his body. It was his little insurance policy that Dean would stay.
Dean fell asleep after Sam, glad that he'd taken the first step to getting them back to how they were. He needed someone to put his trust in, and Sam was the only person he felt was capable of doing the job.
***
The sun rose and the brothers slept. Peace had chased away the nightmares and restless sleep. They were where they were supposed to be, meant to be.
With their legs intertwined, Sam's rubbed against Dean as he shifted upon awakening. The feel of his skin brought a smile to Sam's face. The night before hadn't been a dream. Dean was really there with him. It wasn't the connection that they'd had before, yet. It would take time and Sam could give Dean all the time in the world. He was sure it was only Dean that he wanted and just needed to wait until Dean realized that he hadn't changed his mind.
Dean awoke with Sam lying on his chest. He looked down to the messy mop of brown hair and smiled. He ran his fingers through the locks and thought of the millions of times he'd done it before. When Sam was small, it had been a gentle touch to calm him. As he got older, he was rougher and gave Sam a noogie or put him in a headlock. Since returning to the road, the motion had changed to sexual in nature, a much more intimate touch that any time before. It conveyed his love and affection without having to say the words.
Sam stirred and pressed his lips just above Dean's collar. A gentle brush against Dean's skin to show his true intentions. Dean's arms automatically closed around Sam, a low rumble in his throat giving away how much he'd missed the feeling.
Encouraged, Sam moved to a more comfortable position with one leg flung over Dean and stretched up just a little further to investigate Dean's neck with his mouth. Dean moved his head to the side to give him more room without even thinking about it. A sigh escaped him as Sam found that special spot that never failed to turn him on. He nipped and sucked at the area, soothing it intermittently with his tongue. Dean gripped Sam's sides, holding him in place.
"Sammy," he groaned when he could find his voice. His blood was pumping and he had the urge to move forward that he was trying to quash. Letting his guard down totally would be a mistake but he could lower it just a little.
His mouth found Sam's and the impulses that he'd been trying to ignore were unleashed. He assaulted Sam, plunging his tongue inside his mouth and biting his lower lip until he left an imprint. Sam returned as good as he got. It only took the slightest response from Dean to disintegrate his self-control. He began to rock against Dean, unintentionally stimulating the both of them as his body moved on its own. He meant to take it easy and let Dean lead. He didn't want to rush to ruin the tentative progress they'd made.
With softer lips, they slowed down even though their hearts were pounding.
"Mmm," Dean hummed. "Morning."
"Morning," Sam smiled.
"This is a much nicer way to wake up."
"Glad you think so." Sam lowered himself down to rest upon Dean. "I missed this."
Although he didn't respond with words, Dean agreed.
***
Time passed at faster pace when there were casual touches between them. Cases were easier to work when they could communicate with each other without the strain of a broken bond. As a result, they were able to help more people and their stress levels were decreased.
Dean jokingly stole one of Sam's fries as he was distracted by his laptop at the diner.
"Eat your own food." Sam snapped.
"I did. You're the one lollygagging around. Besides, if you're not going to eat it--"
"I am. I'm just busy here."
"I'm bored. You can do research in the car. Eat your food. It's already cold."
"We don't know where we're headed to, Dean. Are you going to drive in a random direction and just home that there's a case in the area?"
Humphing, Dean ignored Sam and looked out the window at the small town. The parking lot was gravel. Some of the business signs on Main Street were faded, other buildings were vacant. They'd encountered the only stop sign on the way in and Dean didn't think that they had their own police force or emergency services. The residents were unprotected against the known dangers and that made being open to the unknown dangers worse. If something Supernatural came to town, they had no way to investigate it or fight it. If it attacked, they had who knows how long a wait for the nearest medical center. They were sitting ducks and didn't even know it.
"What's that look for?"
"Nothing," Dean turned his attention back to Sam. "What did you find?"
"A couple possible hauntings."
"Anything definite?"
"How factual can a haunting be? All I have is witness accounts and you know how unreliable those can be."
"Yeah. Anything else?"
"Few too many missing people in a semi-rural area, if that sounds better to you."
"Semi-rural? That could be a family that went on vacation and decided to be gone longer than they told the neighbors."
"Could be. What sounds better to you?"
After a minutes consideration, Dean suggested, "Let's put the missing people on the back burner for a couple days and handle and haunting in the meantime."
"Okay. We have a one-room school house that is part of a museum and the long dead vicious school marm doesn't like the visitors. A houseboat whose ghostly resident pushes the occupants overboard at will. And a church with the specter of a crying bride who was jilted at the altar."
"That has to suck."
"It gets worse. The groom was killed on the way to the church and they stalled the ceremony for over two hours until the police came to notify his parents."
"At the church?"
"Yep. They knew about the wedding. Small town."
"Gees. How'd the bride die?"
"Broken heart. She died a spinster. Said he was the love of her life and it wasn't worth looking for anyone else."
"That's a negative outlook."
"It's how it went back then, Dean."
"Okay. Let's tackle the bride. She's just too sad to leave. Anyone who lives on a houseboat already knows how to swim, right?"
"Man, I sure hope so."
Dean said, "Bride it is, then," as he grabbed another handful of fries on their way out.
***
“Why is it folks get married again? That girl was a witch.”
“She was a spirit scorned. It didn’t matter that the guy died. She’d felt betrayed and that’s what she was hanging onto.”
“I sure as hell hope she doesn’t find him in the afterlife. Can you imagine running forever with nowhere to hide?”
“They could both be in heaven. She might have a better attitude up there.”
Dean shrugged. “I’m just saying, death do us part is forever and death is even longer.”
“Yeah.” Sam sighed, “At least she won’t be scaring away any other prospective couples. It was a nice church.”
“If you had to get married.”
“You never considered it?”
“To who, Sam? A waitress or a bartender?”
“No, I mean, didn’t you ever think you’d get married in have kids?”
“I knew I’d always be hunting. There were no other options.”
The subject was closed and that made Sam sad. Dean hadn’t even allowed himself to daydream about what life could be like. He took it as it was and stuck to familiar routines.
***
The missing people were found. They’d joined a cult and cut all ties with the outside world. It took a chance meeting with someone who’d seen their photos on television to locate them.
“I’m so glad we didn’t get sucked into that cult. Those folks freak me out.”
“You wouldn’t drink their kool-aid?”
“I’d hate to breathe their air. You can pollute or poison anything these days. Why do people join them in the first place?”
“For something or someone to believe in.”
“Meandering through life without having a point is better than joining the weirdoes.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re here?”
“I hate to break it to you, Sam, but Mom and Dad had sex. At least twice that we know of.”
“Dean, that’s gross!”
“But it’s true. Do you prefer the stork version or being found in the cabbage patch?”
“After seeing the movie ‘The Birds’ and being bombarded with those popular dolls, I think immaculate conception is the right idea.”
“You live in your own little world.”
“I didn’t deny our folks’ relationship. I just said thinking of them having sex is disgusting.”
“Know what’s disgusting? That one waitress in Florida, that’s who.”
Laughing, they moved ahead with their day.
***
Slowly, they grew closer and closer. Nights spent together moved to nights with extra touching and so on. It was at a leisurely pace until Dean almost met his maker. Without words, they got tangled in each other before the door to the motel room was completely locked.
Sam's life without Dean had passed before his eyes and Dean had had a similar vision trying to picture Sam alone. It scared them both enough to jolt out of the passive way they had viewed their relationship and remember what was most important - each other.
Some clothes didn't escape unscathed. They could be replaced.
Language skills disappeared. The silence was broken only by the sounds they made as they fell into each other.
Time had no meaning. Moments lingered as lips pressed, hands explored and senses overloaded.
Afterwards, they took a shower to wash away the grime that was still present after sweating away most of it on the sheets. Once clean, Dean led the way to the undisturbed bed. Naked, they curled up together and drifted off to sleep.
***
"Hey, idgits. Come on in."
Bobby's was always a welcome sight.
"Haven't heard from you lately. Been hunting alright?"
"Yeah," Dean was the first to answer. "It's been simple enough. Done the research and interviews. The actual hunting doesn't take up as much time as getting the background."
"Don't I know it," Bobby had grabbed three beers from the fridge and passed two out. "I'd still rather be here than out there, though. Books don't require stitches."
"Neither do the knocks to Dean's head," Sam smiled. "But, we like to avoid those. Remember Dean with his sleep interrupted?"
"Couldn't pay me enough to wake him for a concussion." Bobby smirked at Sam. "Was always interesting taking care of you on painkillers, though."
Sam shot him a mocked hurt look. Dean grinned unabashed.
"You'd fess up to anything you'd ever done," Bobby continued. "I heard about every time you slipped candy from a gas station or jaywalked. Your conscience must be damn heavy to lug around."
"One of us has to own one," Sam looked at Dean. "If I listened to my brother and let him be my moral compass, we'd all be sunk."
"Hey! I'm not that bad!"
"How many commandments have you broke this past week?" Bobby asked and both the boys blushed. He understood Dean's reason but Sam's seemed suspicious. "Just pulling your chain. Life's too short. Gotta make your own excitement, smell the roses and all that. Or, in our case, the gunpowder and excellerant."
"Ain't that the truth." Dean took a swig of brew. "Much happening around here?"
"Besides the usual? Had to give the tow truck a tune up last week. Could have used your help. Stubborn machine," Bobby grumbled.
The night went on as the three reminisced and drank until way past dark. Bobby was a little wobbly when he went off to bed and Sam had the damndest time making it up the stairs when the steps kept moving on him. Dean got a case of the giggles as he followed behind, totally amused by Sam's predicament and unaware of the girly noises he was making. Somehow, they managed to land on their respective beds when they fell and slept into the next day.
***
"Still no luck in finding John?" Bobby asked as he fried eggs for their mid-afternoon breakfast.
"You'd have been our first call if we had." Dean pushed his food around his plate. "Do you still ask each person who checks in if they've seen him?"
"Of course. Was Rufus able to help you out at all?"
"Speaking of that ass, why did you send us there? He obviously hated Dad and extends it to us since we're his sons."
"The guys a real grump but he has lots of contacts," Bobby argued.
"Doesn't matter what he does or doesn't have when he isn't inclined to help." Dean replied. "What did Dad ever do to him anyway?"
"You really need to ask? Your dad could piss off anything that breathed. Rufus doesn't take anyone's shit. There is no way the two of them could ever hold a conversation, let alone work together. Still, Rufus is a stand up guy. He'd have told you if he'd heard about John. Might want to stop by there again to check."
"You want to come with? Help pave the way?" Dean offered.
"I don't think I'd help matters much. We've had a recent disagreement."
"I'm not even gonna ask what about."
"Doesn't matter anyhow. You should still stop there."
"Maybe."
Sam watched the whole exchange and knew that they were going to Rufus's place.
***
The visit to Rufus went about the same as the time before. There was less yelling and cursing but the same result. On the way out the door, Sam gave Rufus his cell number just in case someone mentioned his dad.
They went a little further down the road before stopping at a diner and motel. They skipped the typical bar stop, neither needing to relax in that fashion.
Instead, fingers took their time loosening clothes and pulling them free. The covers were turned down when Dean sat upon the bed. Sam stepped away for a moment, dug in his bag and hid the items from Dean's view. It wasn't until a match flared in the darkness that he saw the candles Sam had brought.
"Getting girly, Sam?"
"Some motel rooms really stink. I want to be in one that smells nice for a change. That a problem?"
"No. Just making sure you weren't getting all romantic on me."
"What if I was?"
"I might have to point out that we're both guys and don't need the setting to be romantic to set the mood."
"But if it's for room odor, it's ok?"
"You bet. I'm getting kind of lonely here all by my lonesome. You planning on joining me any time soon?"
Sam smirked, "Am I needed over there?"
"I think there's room for your sasquatch ass. I have gotten used to having you around. Don't know if I want to change it up now."
Swaying his hips enough to accentuate his appendage that throbbing, he walked toward the bed. His eyes slid over Dean's form in the dim lighting. He knew how Dean looked but the candlelight made it mysterious. The shadows and flickering light played on his skin. The sight took Sam's breath away. He would never tell Dean that he looked beautiful, but the fact remained that he did.
Dean's eyes were all pupil when Sam came close enough to see. That ratcheted Sam's emotions up even further. His heart pounded as he crawled up Dean's body and lowered his lips to Dean's. Softly, he caressed Dean's mouth and refused to change his pace when Dean tried to speed things up.
"No rushing," Sam whispered in his ear. "We race like hell to get places. This once, we can take our time. I plan on doing just that."
Dean groaned in frustration and expectation. Sam smiled against his neck and went back to lavishing attention on Dean's lush mouth.
Dean's hands ran through Sam's hair gently and then gripped his head to hold their mouths together. He couldn't let Sam have all the control.
Sam pressed his lower half to Dean's. The hair on Dean's legs tickled him and felt a little rough. With both their cocks already leaking, rubbing them together was smooth and slick. The gliding was swift and the slightest pressure either of them put on the area seemed to be magnified.
"Sam," Dean's voice was gruff with need.
"Shhh."
He grabbed Sam's shoulders to get his point across. "Sam, Sam." His broken pleas tugged at Sam's heart.
"Alright, Dean. Settle. Shhh." He turned his lust up a notch and let a little of the blood pumping through his veins edge him on.
Hands moved faster. They had to touch all skin for fear that they'd starve if they didn't get enough of what they craved. When Sam's fingers started probing, Dean moved to grant him entrance.
Shaking with anticipation, Sam lined up to Dean and pressed in.
"Ugh."
Stopping all movement, Sam asked, "Okay?"
"Don't stop."
Deciding that was a good noise Dean had made, Sam thrust in until he bottomed out. He retreated all the way out to the rim and quickly jammed back in. Dean grunted at the movement and wrapped his legs around Sam's waist.
"Feel so good," Sam stuttered between deep breaths.
He felt the familiar sensation building and desperately wanted Dean with him. He closed his hand around Dean's slippery member and their brains went into overdrive. There were feelings and sounds but no words, neither of them was coherent enough to form them. They were acting on the age old urgency.
Afterwards, exhausted, messy and quite pleased with themselves, Sam blew out the candles before they fell asleep.
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Theme: 6 - papercut
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural. Warnings: Slash, incest, het
Since they had always been in each other's space, the only change was that some lines got blurred. They had one bed instead of two. They saved time by showering together, or at least that is what they told themselves.
Hunting still lead to arguments and injuries. Weapons still needed to be cleaned, sharpened and restocked. Creatures still came in all shapes and sizes seemingly out to destroy the Winchesters personally. Luckily, the boys were prepared.
Sam stitched up the slashes in Dean's back. What should have been an easy hunt took a bit of a turn when there was one more monster than they expected or saw when they entered the lair.
"Could you not tug so hard each time through?" Dean complained. "Give me the bottle if you're going to be so rough."
"I have to get them tight enough to hold together," Sam replied while concentrating. "Here's the bottle if it'll shut you up. Just leave a quarter to clean the wound when I'm done."
"When you going to fix your arm?" Dean pointed at a slash on Sam's bicep that had been quickly covered with gauze and an awkward bandage that was bleeding through. "Want me to do it for you?"
"After you've drunk all that alcohol? I think I'll do it myself. I still have your flask of whiskey that I can use."
"Suit yourself. You damn near done back there?" he tried to look over his shoulder to see Sam's work.
"Quit your moving and I'll be done much quicker."
"Fine," he sank back to his defeated position.
Sam's cell rang.
"You'd better not answer it."
"What if it's Bobby calling to make sure we’re okay?" Sam was already setting down the needle and thread to grab for his phone. "Hello?"
"Sam?" Jess was crying. "I didn't know who else to call. My dad just had a stoke and they don't think he's going to make it. I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but can you come get me? I need you, Sam."
"Wait. Your dad is in the hospital?"
"Yes."
"I'm a few states away. I'll get there as soon as I can, okay?"
Jess sniffled.
"Maybe Becky can stay with you until I get there?" He suggested, feeling helpless so far away.
"I can call her."
"Do that. I'll call you when I'm close so you can pack your bag and be ready to go."
"Thanks, Sam."
Jess was still fighting to control her sobs when Sam hung up.
"What was that all about?" Dean had waited until the call was disconnected before questioning Sam about it.
"Jess needs me to take her to her parents' place. Her dad's in the hospital and she needs to be there."
"You've been gone for months. Why'd she call you?"
"We're still friends, Dean."
"So you're making that long trip as just her friend?"
"What are you getting at?"
"Nothing, Sam. That's my point. After all, it's just us here and you're used to running out. Why should this time be any different?"
"You went when Cassie needed you."
"Yes, I did. It was a case. We both went."
"You slept with her."
"That was way before we started whatever it is we have. This is different."
"I'm not going to try get in her pants. She needs me."
"I'm sure she does."
Sam finished wrapping Dean's stitches. Then, he went to the bathroom to attend to his own wound. While he worked, he thought about what Dean had said. He was right in the fact that they had grown closer after Cassie had entered and exited their lives. How could he assure Dean that seeing Jess wouldn't change anything? Or, would seeing Jess bring back his romantic feelings for her?
Dean was reclined on the bed when Sam was done. Sam paused, ready to explain to Dean what he'd been thinking. Dean didn't give him a chance.
"Just go, Sammy. No use hanging around."
"I shouldn't be gone long."
"You don't know that."
Sighing, Sam replied, "I plan on being back soon. I'll acquire my own car. Where should I meet you at?"
"Depends on when it is. I might head over to Bobby's."
"Really? Good. Old guy could probably use the company."
Dean didn't get off the bed and Sam didn't approach him to say goodbye. A brief farewell called from the door sufficed.
***
“What’s going on, Dean?”
“Just tuning up the Impala. Why?” Dean answered from under the hood. He’d been avoiding this certain conversation since his arrival at the scrap yard the week before.
“I’ve got lots of questions. Where’s Sam, for one. Why haven’t you been cruising the bar in town for chicks, for two. And three--”
“I get the picture, Bobby. I’ve been a little out of character but I’m just sorting a few things out in my head.”
“And where’s Sam?”
“Jess from Stanford needed his help.”
“And you didn’t go with?”
“It wasn’t a hunt. Her dad’s sick and she needed him. He left the same night.”
Knowing Dean’s past issues with abandonment, Bobby knew that Sam leaving couldn’t have been good.
"When's he coming back?"
"I don't know. He didn't say."
"He is coming back, isn't he?"
"Said he was." Dean wiped his hands on a rag. "That's all I've got, Bobby. He didn't say anything else."
"And you're fine with that?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Bobby shrugged.
"Think I could have a beer?"
"Sure. come on." Bobby turned and walked back to the house, thankful that his awkward conversation with Dean was over.
***
"Dean, hey. I was hoping to catch you, but I guess Bobby's got you busy fixing the clunkers. I'm not sure when I'll be back. Jess's dad passed and they're making the necessary arrangements. I'll meet up with you as soon as I get Jess back to Stanford. You can call me if . . . Scratch that. Just call me. Bye."
***
Dean purposely let his phone go to voicemail and listened to Sam's messages as soon as he'd left them. He would have answered if he'd had a clue what to say to Sam, but he was so hurt and didn't want Sam to hear it in his voice.
Days at the scrapyard were filled with car repairs, beer and shooting the breeze. Bobby was an expert at avoiding touchy topics and could navigate nearly any landmine. He and Dean settled into a routine that was almost too domesticated for the two hunters. There were a few visitors that needed to pick Bobby's brain, but other than the customers, Bobby's driveway remained clear. Dean checked it several times a day, hoping to see Sam walking down the lane.
"Has he called?"
"Huh?"
"Sam. You heard from him?"
"Yeah. Jess's dad died so he's staying with her until she returns to college."
"Any idea when that will be?"
"Nope. Not until he calls or just shows up."
"Kid's walking on thin ice, isn't he?"
"What? He doesn't have to answer to me."
"And you're not just waiting here for him?"
Dean looked right at Bobby. "If' I'm overstaying my welcome, just tell me."
"Of course not. You know you're always welcome here."
"Good. Can we change the topic now? Did you get that Plymouth running yet?"
With a frown on his face, Bobby grabbed the sandwich he'd been making. "No. Thanks for the reminder of that frustration. You want to take a shot at it?"
"Hell, no. Do I look like I want a headache?"
"Fine." Bobby went toward the door. "You'll know where to find me." The screen door slammed after he passed through.
"Good luck bonding with the Plymouth," Dean muttered once he was out of earshot.
***
"Hey, Dean. We'll be leaving tomorrow so I'll be able to head out the day after. Where are you at? I tried Bobby's and there was no answer. I haven't heard from you since I left. Anyway, call me. Bye."
Dean stood up from the couch, walked over to the answering machine, and erased the message Sam had left for Bobby. He felt a little bad at the underlying panic in Sam's voice but not bad enough to call him back right away. If Sam wanted to be gone, he could be gone. Dean was fine on his own.
"They call about that part yet?" Bobby's voice startled him.
"No, they didn't."
"Who was on the phone then?"
"Wrong number."
Bobby let his suspicions slide and didn't bring it up again.
***
A knock on the door drew Dean's attention from the book he'd been looking through in Bobby's library. After making sure he had his handgun, he walked through the living room to the front entrance.
"Surprise." Sam stood there on the porch and didn't seem amused. He stepped past Dean. "So, would it have killed you to call me? Just let me know you're still alive if nothing else?"
"I've been busy."
"Uh-huh." Sam knew Bobby's house was never too busy to answer a stinking phone.
"Look, you're here now. I didn't hear you pull up. How'd you get here?"
"Dropped the borrowed car off on the way here and hitch-hiked the rest of the way."
"You shouldn't do that. I could have picked you up."
"Yeah, if you were answering your damn phone."
"Well, you made it here in one piece. I guess that's what matters."
Bobby came in from outside. "Thought I saw you walking up the drive. Where you been, stranger?" He gave the boy a one-armed hug.
"Nowhere, really. Just helping out a friend."
One look at the two of them and Bobby knew there was something he definitely didn't want to get in the middle of. "Well, nice to have you here. Feel like making supper? I'm tired of brats and beans and Dean's specialty seems to be inedible pancakes."
"It was just that one morning--"
"I damn near broke a tooth!" Bobby exaggerated for their benefit to get a laugh out of them. "So, you cooking or not?"
"I'll whip something up." Sam set his bag down in the living room. "So, any suggestions?"
Dean escaped back into Bobby's library as soon as possible. Bobby and Sam could figure out the meal. Dean didn't feel all that hungry anyway.
"What's up with Dean?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
"Me? How would I know? I've been gone."
"Yep. You have, haven't you? You left and Dean's screwed up over it. Doesn't happen to sound familiar, does it?"
Sam was stunned silent. Bobby left him with plenty to think about and limited pantry items. He'd known Dean wasn't going to make his return smooth, but he expected it to be easier than it had gone.
***
The were a couple of days out from Bobby's in the Impala when Sam couldn't stand it anymore. "Doesn't the silent treatment seem a little childish to you?"
"What? I just haven't had much to say."
"For days, Dean?"
"Hey, I've talked."
"Yeah, only if it's about the case."
"Well, that is what's important."
Frustrated, Sam asked, "So do you want to tell me why we've been getting double rooms?"
"It's all they had."
"I might believe that except for the fact that you actually slept in the other bed. Anything I should know?"
"Nope." Dean stared straight ahead.
Sam gave up for the moment and decided to try to sleep.
***
"Nothing happened when I was gone."
Dean paused sharpening his knife for a second. "You don't say."
"Really, Dean. Nothing happened. Is that what this has been all about?"
"Give the college boy a medal." The constant drag on the whetstone was relaxing to Dean. "You didn't touch her at all?"
"No."
"Did you hold hands?"
"What? I mean, of course I gave her hugs but that was it."
"So you did touch her then?"
"What did you expect? Her father died, Dean."
"How would you like it if I took off and spent a couple weeks with Cassie?"
"I wouldn't like it, but I'd trust you."
"Yeah. See, the difference is that you lived with Jess and were in love with her. That's more history than Cassie and I will ever have. I don't think my concerns are unfounded."
"I came back, Dean. Shouldn't that count for something?"
Dean laughed harshly. "Sure it does. Could be that she kicked your sorry ass out."
"What?"
"I'm saying that you didn't have another place to go. You came back by default, not because it is where you want to be."
"How can you say that?"
"Did you fuck her?" Dean's abrupt question took Sam off guard, just as intended.
"Of course not."
"Kiss her?"
"Not on the lips."
"That sounds suspicious."
"On the cheek, Dean. It was nothing but a harmless peck."
"Harmless. Hmm. I think that depends on which viewpoint you're looking from."
"Christ, Dean! If I thought you were going to get this upset, I wouldn't have gone in the first place!"
"So why did you?"
"Because she needed me. Because you didn't seem to have that big of a problem with it."
"I didn't?"
"Not until I got back. If you were so mad, why didn't you call instead of simmering at Bobby's?"
"Why would I call? You're the one that walked out, Sam, not me."
The magnitude of the hurt Sam had caused with his thoughtlessness began to sink in. "I wasn't leaving for good, Dean. I told you I was coming back."
"But you didn't know when. Yeah, I remember. You stitched me up and ran."
Sam had no argument for that.
***
Gradually, the tension between them eased. It simply took too much energy to stay mad. Although they weren't back to being lovers, they were able to pull off brothers. Dean stuffed all his pain into a neat compartment and tucked it away. Sam, however, struggled with the weight of the pain he caused Dean on a daily basis.
They fit too many hunts into a short period of time. As long as they were busy, neither of them had to think about their relationship, or non-relationship as it was. Exhausted, they checked into the motel. The sound of liquor pouring a couple blocks away was too strong to ignore.
"What do you say to a drink?"
"Sounds like a great way to forget what we saw. You buying?"
"Sorta," Dean pulled a credit card from his wallet. "Wallace Adams is treating this evening."
Sam shook his head but in the end he needed the drink more than he needed to bother Dean about credit card fraud.
They sat in a booth off to the side, away from the bar. They had a good view of the pool tables and the doors.
"Did the best we could, Sammy. We've been stretched thin for quite awhile."
"That's no excuse."
"There has to be a pattern before we can catch on. A pattern already has some victims."
"It shouldn't have to be that way."
"Until we can come up with another system, it's all we've got."
"Still sucks."
"No argument here."
They sat in silence as they downed brew after brew. A plate of nachos later, feeling full from the food and tired from the liquor and previous work of the day, they stumbled a little on the way out the door. Jokingly, they bumped shoulders and argued over who was the best at bullshitting the civilians.
Inside the motel room, the joking continued until jackets were removed and they fell silent. While getting ready for bed, they each tried sneaking looks at the other. They hadn't been together in so long. It was difficult not to be obvious when the looks lingered, drinking in all the skin that was exposed when they were in t-shirts and boxers.
The moment was lost when Sam went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. After Dean had his turn, he came out to find Sam already in bed and the lights were off. He hesitated at the foot of Sam's bed before giving in to the pull toward the other man.
Sam was almost asleep when he felt the bed dip behind him with a familiar weight. He opened his eyes but didn't move, for fear of scaring Dean away.
Lying down on his side, Dean formed himself to Sam's back and slung an arm around him. He buried his nose in Sam's neck and breathed in his scent, letting it calm him as nothing else ever would. Sam relaxed into Dean's body and closed his eyes again. He allowed his arm to float down until he could clasp Dean's hand, keeping it close to his body. It was his little insurance policy that Dean would stay.
Dean fell asleep after Sam, glad that he'd taken the first step to getting them back to how they were. He needed someone to put his trust in, and Sam was the only person he felt was capable of doing the job.
***
The sun rose and the brothers slept. Peace had chased away the nightmares and restless sleep. They were where they were supposed to be, meant to be.
With their legs intertwined, Sam's rubbed against Dean as he shifted upon awakening. The feel of his skin brought a smile to Sam's face. The night before hadn't been a dream. Dean was really there with him. It wasn't the connection that they'd had before, yet. It would take time and Sam could give Dean all the time in the world. He was sure it was only Dean that he wanted and just needed to wait until Dean realized that he hadn't changed his mind.
Dean awoke with Sam lying on his chest. He looked down to the messy mop of brown hair and smiled. He ran his fingers through the locks and thought of the millions of times he'd done it before. When Sam was small, it had been a gentle touch to calm him. As he got older, he was rougher and gave Sam a noogie or put him in a headlock. Since returning to the road, the motion had changed to sexual in nature, a much more intimate touch that any time before. It conveyed his love and affection without having to say the words.
Sam stirred and pressed his lips just above Dean's collar. A gentle brush against Dean's skin to show his true intentions. Dean's arms automatically closed around Sam, a low rumble in his throat giving away how much he'd missed the feeling.
Encouraged, Sam moved to a more comfortable position with one leg flung over Dean and stretched up just a little further to investigate Dean's neck with his mouth. Dean moved his head to the side to give him more room without even thinking about it. A sigh escaped him as Sam found that special spot that never failed to turn him on. He nipped and sucked at the area, soothing it intermittently with his tongue. Dean gripped Sam's sides, holding him in place.
"Sammy," he groaned when he could find his voice. His blood was pumping and he had the urge to move forward that he was trying to quash. Letting his guard down totally would be a mistake but he could lower it just a little.
His mouth found Sam's and the impulses that he'd been trying to ignore were unleashed. He assaulted Sam, plunging his tongue inside his mouth and biting his lower lip until he left an imprint. Sam returned as good as he got. It only took the slightest response from Dean to disintegrate his self-control. He began to rock against Dean, unintentionally stimulating the both of them as his body moved on its own. He meant to take it easy and let Dean lead. He didn't want to rush to ruin the tentative progress they'd made.
With softer lips, they slowed down even though their hearts were pounding.
"Mmm," Dean hummed. "Morning."
"Morning," Sam smiled.
"This is a much nicer way to wake up."
"Glad you think so." Sam lowered himself down to rest upon Dean. "I missed this."
Although he didn't respond with words, Dean agreed.
***
Time passed at faster pace when there were casual touches between them. Cases were easier to work when they could communicate with each other without the strain of a broken bond. As a result, they were able to help more people and their stress levels were decreased.
Dean jokingly stole one of Sam's fries as he was distracted by his laptop at the diner.
"Eat your own food." Sam snapped.
"I did. You're the one lollygagging around. Besides, if you're not going to eat it--"
"I am. I'm just busy here."
"I'm bored. You can do research in the car. Eat your food. It's already cold."
"We don't know where we're headed to, Dean. Are you going to drive in a random direction and just home that there's a case in the area?"
Humphing, Dean ignored Sam and looked out the window at the small town. The parking lot was gravel. Some of the business signs on Main Street were faded, other buildings were vacant. They'd encountered the only stop sign on the way in and Dean didn't think that they had their own police force or emergency services. The residents were unprotected against the known dangers and that made being open to the unknown dangers worse. If something Supernatural came to town, they had no way to investigate it or fight it. If it attacked, they had who knows how long a wait for the nearest medical center. They were sitting ducks and didn't even know it.
"What's that look for?"
"Nothing," Dean turned his attention back to Sam. "What did you find?"
"A couple possible hauntings."
"Anything definite?"
"How factual can a haunting be? All I have is witness accounts and you know how unreliable those can be."
"Yeah. Anything else?"
"Few too many missing people in a semi-rural area, if that sounds better to you."
"Semi-rural? That could be a family that went on vacation and decided to be gone longer than they told the neighbors."
"Could be. What sounds better to you?"
After a minutes consideration, Dean suggested, "Let's put the missing people on the back burner for a couple days and handle and haunting in the meantime."
"Okay. We have a one-room school house that is part of a museum and the long dead vicious school marm doesn't like the visitors. A houseboat whose ghostly resident pushes the occupants overboard at will. And a church with the specter of a crying bride who was jilted at the altar."
"That has to suck."
"It gets worse. The groom was killed on the way to the church and they stalled the ceremony for over two hours until the police came to notify his parents."
"At the church?"
"Yep. They knew about the wedding. Small town."
"Gees. How'd the bride die?"
"Broken heart. She died a spinster. Said he was the love of her life and it wasn't worth looking for anyone else."
"That's a negative outlook."
"It's how it went back then, Dean."
"Okay. Let's tackle the bride. She's just too sad to leave. Anyone who lives on a houseboat already knows how to swim, right?"
"Man, I sure hope so."
Dean said, "Bride it is, then," as he grabbed another handful of fries on their way out.
***
“Why is it folks get married again? That girl was a witch.”
“She was a spirit scorned. It didn’t matter that the guy died. She’d felt betrayed and that’s what she was hanging onto.”
“I sure as hell hope she doesn’t find him in the afterlife. Can you imagine running forever with nowhere to hide?”
“They could both be in heaven. She might have a better attitude up there.”
Dean shrugged. “I’m just saying, death do us part is forever and death is even longer.”
“Yeah.” Sam sighed, “At least she won’t be scaring away any other prospective couples. It was a nice church.”
“If you had to get married.”
“You never considered it?”
“To who, Sam? A waitress or a bartender?”
“No, I mean, didn’t you ever think you’d get married in have kids?”
“I knew I’d always be hunting. There were no other options.”
The subject was closed and that made Sam sad. Dean hadn’t even allowed himself to daydream about what life could be like. He took it as it was and stuck to familiar routines.
***
The missing people were found. They’d joined a cult and cut all ties with the outside world. It took a chance meeting with someone who’d seen their photos on television to locate them.
“I’m so glad we didn’t get sucked into that cult. Those folks freak me out.”
“You wouldn’t drink their kool-aid?”
“I’d hate to breathe their air. You can pollute or poison anything these days. Why do people join them in the first place?”
“For something or someone to believe in.”
“Meandering through life without having a point is better than joining the weirdoes.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re here?”
“I hate to break it to you, Sam, but Mom and Dad had sex. At least twice that we know of.”
“Dean, that’s gross!”
“But it’s true. Do you prefer the stork version or being found in the cabbage patch?”
“After seeing the movie ‘The Birds’ and being bombarded with those popular dolls, I think immaculate conception is the right idea.”
“You live in your own little world.”
“I didn’t deny our folks’ relationship. I just said thinking of them having sex is disgusting.”
“Know what’s disgusting? That one waitress in Florida, that’s who.”
Laughing, they moved ahead with their day.
***
Slowly, they grew closer and closer. Nights spent together moved to nights with extra touching and so on. It was at a leisurely pace until Dean almost met his maker. Without words, they got tangled in each other before the door to the motel room was completely locked.
Sam's life without Dean had passed before his eyes and Dean had had a similar vision trying to picture Sam alone. It scared them both enough to jolt out of the passive way they had viewed their relationship and remember what was most important - each other.
Some clothes didn't escape unscathed. They could be replaced.
Language skills disappeared. The silence was broken only by the sounds they made as they fell into each other.
Time had no meaning. Moments lingered as lips pressed, hands explored and senses overloaded.
Afterwards, they took a shower to wash away the grime that was still present after sweating away most of it on the sheets. Once clean, Dean led the way to the undisturbed bed. Naked, they curled up together and drifted off to sleep.
***
"Hey, idgits. Come on in."
Bobby's was always a welcome sight.
"Haven't heard from you lately. Been hunting alright?"
"Yeah," Dean was the first to answer. "It's been simple enough. Done the research and interviews. The actual hunting doesn't take up as much time as getting the background."
"Don't I know it," Bobby had grabbed three beers from the fridge and passed two out. "I'd still rather be here than out there, though. Books don't require stitches."
"Neither do the knocks to Dean's head," Sam smiled. "But, we like to avoid those. Remember Dean with his sleep interrupted?"
"Couldn't pay me enough to wake him for a concussion." Bobby smirked at Sam. "Was always interesting taking care of you on painkillers, though."
Sam shot him a mocked hurt look. Dean grinned unabashed.
"You'd fess up to anything you'd ever done," Bobby continued. "I heard about every time you slipped candy from a gas station or jaywalked. Your conscience must be damn heavy to lug around."
"One of us has to own one," Sam looked at Dean. "If I listened to my brother and let him be my moral compass, we'd all be sunk."
"Hey! I'm not that bad!"
"How many commandments have you broke this past week?" Bobby asked and both the boys blushed. He understood Dean's reason but Sam's seemed suspicious. "Just pulling your chain. Life's too short. Gotta make your own excitement, smell the roses and all that. Or, in our case, the gunpowder and excellerant."
"Ain't that the truth." Dean took a swig of brew. "Much happening around here?"
"Besides the usual? Had to give the tow truck a tune up last week. Could have used your help. Stubborn machine," Bobby grumbled.
The night went on as the three reminisced and drank until way past dark. Bobby was a little wobbly when he went off to bed and Sam had the damndest time making it up the stairs when the steps kept moving on him. Dean got a case of the giggles as he followed behind, totally amused by Sam's predicament and unaware of the girly noises he was making. Somehow, they managed to land on their respective beds when they fell and slept into the next day.
***
"Still no luck in finding John?" Bobby asked as he fried eggs for their mid-afternoon breakfast.
"You'd have been our first call if we had." Dean pushed his food around his plate. "Do you still ask each person who checks in if they've seen him?"
"Of course. Was Rufus able to help you out at all?"
"Speaking of that ass, why did you send us there? He obviously hated Dad and extends it to us since we're his sons."
"The guys a real grump but he has lots of contacts," Bobby argued.
"Doesn't matter what he does or doesn't have when he isn't inclined to help." Dean replied. "What did Dad ever do to him anyway?"
"You really need to ask? Your dad could piss off anything that breathed. Rufus doesn't take anyone's shit. There is no way the two of them could ever hold a conversation, let alone work together. Still, Rufus is a stand up guy. He'd have told you if he'd heard about John. Might want to stop by there again to check."
"You want to come with? Help pave the way?" Dean offered.
"I don't think I'd help matters much. We've had a recent disagreement."
"I'm not even gonna ask what about."
"Doesn't matter anyhow. You should still stop there."
"Maybe."
Sam watched the whole exchange and knew that they were going to Rufus's place.
***
The visit to Rufus went about the same as the time before. There was less yelling and cursing but the same result. On the way out the door, Sam gave Rufus his cell number just in case someone mentioned his dad.
They went a little further down the road before stopping at a diner and motel. They skipped the typical bar stop, neither needing to relax in that fashion.
Instead, fingers took their time loosening clothes and pulling them free. The covers were turned down when Dean sat upon the bed. Sam stepped away for a moment, dug in his bag and hid the items from Dean's view. It wasn't until a match flared in the darkness that he saw the candles Sam had brought.
"Getting girly, Sam?"
"Some motel rooms really stink. I want to be in one that smells nice for a change. That a problem?"
"No. Just making sure you weren't getting all romantic on me."
"What if I was?"
"I might have to point out that we're both guys and don't need the setting to be romantic to set the mood."
"But if it's for room odor, it's ok?"
"You bet. I'm getting kind of lonely here all by my lonesome. You planning on joining me any time soon?"
Sam smirked, "Am I needed over there?"
"I think there's room for your sasquatch ass. I have gotten used to having you around. Don't know if I want to change it up now."
Swaying his hips enough to accentuate his appendage that throbbing, he walked toward the bed. His eyes slid over Dean's form in the dim lighting. He knew how Dean looked but the candlelight made it mysterious. The shadows and flickering light played on his skin. The sight took Sam's breath away. He would never tell Dean that he looked beautiful, but the fact remained that he did.
Dean's eyes were all pupil when Sam came close enough to see. That ratcheted Sam's emotions up even further. His heart pounded as he crawled up Dean's body and lowered his lips to Dean's. Softly, he caressed Dean's mouth and refused to change his pace when Dean tried to speed things up.
"No rushing," Sam whispered in his ear. "We race like hell to get places. This once, we can take our time. I plan on doing just that."
Dean groaned in frustration and expectation. Sam smiled against his neck and went back to lavishing attention on Dean's lush mouth.
Dean's hands ran through Sam's hair gently and then gripped his head to hold their mouths together. He couldn't let Sam have all the control.
Sam pressed his lower half to Dean's. The hair on Dean's legs tickled him and felt a little rough. With both their cocks already leaking, rubbing them together was smooth and slick. The gliding was swift and the slightest pressure either of them put on the area seemed to be magnified.
"Sam," Dean's voice was gruff with need.
"Shhh."
He grabbed Sam's shoulders to get his point across. "Sam, Sam." His broken pleas tugged at Sam's heart.
"Alright, Dean. Settle. Shhh." He turned his lust up a notch and let a little of the blood pumping through his veins edge him on.
Hands moved faster. They had to touch all skin for fear that they'd starve if they didn't get enough of what they craved. When Sam's fingers started probing, Dean moved to grant him entrance.
Shaking with anticipation, Sam lined up to Dean and pressed in.
"Ugh."
Stopping all movement, Sam asked, "Okay?"
"Don't stop."
Deciding that was a good noise Dean had made, Sam thrust in until he bottomed out. He retreated all the way out to the rim and quickly jammed back in. Dean grunted at the movement and wrapped his legs around Sam's waist.
"Feel so good," Sam stuttered between deep breaths.
He felt the familiar sensation building and desperately wanted Dean with him. He closed his hand around Dean's slippery member and their brains went into overdrive. There were feelings and sounds but no words, neither of them was coherent enough to form them. They were acting on the age old urgency.
Afterwards, exhausted, messy and quite pleased with themselves, Sam blew out the candles before they fell asleep.