Supernatural: Familiar Resolve
Title: Familiar Resolve
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Genre: Angst, Porn, Schmoop
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 3,386
Author’s Note: Written for the beautiful lavendergaia who wanted amulet!porn and was willing to put out in order to get some. Darling, I hope you like this. I will never be able to porn like you can, but hopefully you’ll like it, anyway? It’s got all the things you asked for: healing peen, post-5.16, top!Sam, and angst leading to happiness. This is unbeta’d and was written in a few hours, but I really wanted it to get it to lavendergaia quickly, so hopefully I won’t look at it tomorrow and go “Oh my God-I let people read that?!” ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: It’s just more amulet porn, guys. Who doesn’t like amulet porn? Coda to 5.16: Sam just wants to see his big brother wearing the amulet again.
It’s not even a question for Sam. As soon as Dean’s out the door, Sam stoops down and picks the amulet out of the trash, brings it up to look at it. He doesn’t let himself cry, Dean raised Sam better than that. He curls the cord around his fingers tight enough to make his skin go red and tries to feel the things he’s felt so many times while holding it. None of them are there, of course.
He finally understands Dean, realizes all the times Dean chose Sam over himself, all the things he’s done for him. He knew about them, of course, but it never really hit home until he saw that memory, Dean trying to hold their mother together. Being everything Sam’s ever had to depend on before Dean was even old enough to grasp what he was doing. Sam’s never Loved his big brother more than he does now. And Dean…maybe Dean understands Sam better, too, but that makes him look at Sam in a way even the demon blood didn’t. Sam is terrified by the thought, by how final it seems to make things. He looks down at the amulet in his hands.
It had meant something when it was just a cord hanging around Dean’s neck, a symbol of something Dean loved and believed in. Now it has a purpose, now it’s what it was meant to be. Now that Dean knows you, he doesn’t want you. Sam shakes his head and shoves it in his pocket. He can’t accept that, he won’t. Dean will learn to love this amulet as much as he loved it before. Better. He has to. Otherwise, he may never Love Sam again. Sam won’t even entertain the possibility.
He tries wearing it at first. The thin cord around his neck is familiar enough, this isn’t the first time it’s come down to him. He feels its weight for three days before he can’t stand it anymore. It’s like Hell all over again, like those four months he spent wearing it because he didn’t have Dean. He doesn’t like remembering those four months; he definitely doesn’t like that right now he feels as lost as he was then. He doesn’t have Dean now, either, not even with Dean sitting right next to him. Maybe that’s worse. Sam has nothing now; the only thing he wants hates him.
Wearing it before had been a comfort to him. Do this now, because Dean will want it back. And Sam hates that more than anything-that even when Dean was dead in the pit, Sam had a reason to hold on to it. He knew Dean would want it if Dean were there, so he would have it even if Dean never came back. Now all he has is hope. Do this now, because maybe one day, Dean will want it again. Hope like that runs thin fast when nothing’s keeping it alive.
He stops wearing it, for a few minutes he even tries to convince himself to throw it away, like Dean did. It’ll never be a comfort for Sam like it is-was-to Dean. Sam only likes the damn thing when it’s hanging around his brother’s neck. But he can’t accept that things between him and Dean are over, will ever be over. So he keeps taking it along. Sneaking glances at it whenever Dean’s not looking, making sure it’s still there. Dean never looks anymore. Sam spends more time with the amulet than his brother.
A month passes and things get worse, so much worse, before they get better. Sam almost gives up-on the amulet, on Dean, trying to win the damn Apocalypse, everything. And then it all turns around, almost suddenly. Dean doesn’t tell Sam what the angels did to shake him up, to make him care again, at least he doesn’t tell Sam the whole truth about it. Dean hasn’t bothered hiding things from him for his sake in a long time. It’s annoying, it’s what led to everything going wrong-but Sam nearly kisses Dean out of habit when he realizes that’s what Dean’s doing.
They have it back. Not all of it, of course, but Sam can appreciate small favors. He still has cuts from the fight they had and already they’re together again and Dean…he doesn’t look at Sam like he used to. But he looks. And he cares, he fights, they’re back in it. That matters more, Sam tries to convince himself. Apocalypse first, then worry about making Dean fall in Love with you. Sam has learned to ignore the better half of his heart on the matter. It’s sure he can’t win the Apocalypse without fixing what he had with Dean, but right now killing Lucifer seems easier than convincing Dean to touch him.
He’s almost obsessing over the amulet at this point. He keeps it on him now, not just shoved into his bag. He takes it out as soon as Dean is out of sight. He wonders if he should give it back yet, or if it’s too soon. He decides to wait for the right moment, for something huge and important, something that they’ll remember forever and that Dean will not be able to refute, to happen. Then he’ll give it back and Dean won’t even try to fight it. Of course, this isn’t how it happens. Sam doesn’t know why he even bothers making plans at this point.
He’s stroking a thumb over it, maybe lost in thought when Dean comes in. Sam doesn’t notice him, has no idea how long Dean’s been standing there watching.
“That’s mine,” Dean states simply.
Sam looks up, jolted out of whatever train of thought he’d been on by Dean’s voice, shaky with more emotion than Dean’s been able to muster up in months. Sam holds it out to him.
“You dropped it,” Sam says, as if that’s all that had happened.
Dean nods and grabs it out of Sam’s hands, his fingers rest in Sam’s palm for only a few perfect seconds before he pulls away sharply, as if he’s scared of getting his hand caught in some trap. Sam watches Dean’s face closely as he takes it back. There’s a reverent glow in Dean’s eyes, a tiny, private smile as he reacquaints himself with its weight and shape. Dean just stands there staring at it for so long, Sam almost thinks his brother’s going to cry. Then Dean shakes his head and looks back at Sam.
“I thought I’d lost it,” he explains, like he’s making an excuse for caring.
“Yeah,” Sam says softly. “I was worried you wouldn’t find it.”
He wants to see Dean put it on. He wants Dean to kiss him and tell him he’s forgotten about Heaven and everything awful Sam ever did. Dean doesn’t do any of those things; he walks out the door and leaves Sam to wonder if he’d imagined the fact that for maybe a minute, everything was better than it had been for more than two years.
The next time Sam sees Dean, he’s wearing it. Even if it’s hidden, it’s there, tucked under the layers of Dean’s shirts. Sam can see the little bump that, once upon a time, he’d used to run his fingers over while they kissed. It’s something, but it’s not enough. He wonders if anything will ever be enough again.
That night, Dean walks in while he’s jerking off. Sam stops when he sees him watching, but Dean doesn’t say anything. He comes into the room, he sits down on his bed and he watches Sam. He doesn’t touch himself and he certainly doesn’t touch Sam, but Sam swallows hard and keeps going. Dean hasn’t looked that ashamed to want him in ten years. Sam comes pretty quickly knowing Dean’s eyes are on him. Dean lets out a shallow breath before climbing into his bed, turning his back to Sam, and going to sleep. Sam cleans off and does the same. Big day tomorrow. Nothing to stay awake for tonight. There was a time when Sam thought he wanted a life that ran on a schedule.
After that, Sam gets angry. Dean always said he had a lousy temper. Sam doesn’t care anymore if he’s right. Dean wants him, Loves him, and things are good again, even if they aren’t perfect. Sam knows what will make them perfect. Dean knows, too. And they’re both too chicken shit to make it happen. Dean is good at putting up with that kind of thing. Sam never has been.
“Hey, you holding up okay?”
Sam looks up at Dean dazed and then remembers what Dean’s talking about. He’s supposed to be killing Lucifer tomorrow, same way Dean had killed Zachariah. Sam is supposed to be strong in a few hours and he’s got nothing to lean on. He’s felt more confident before-but then he made pretty stupid mistakes when he was confident.
“I. I guess. I mean, it killed Zachariah. It should work.”
Dean nods, obviously not convinced of Sam’s confidence.
“Hey. You’re gonna do great, Sammy.”
Sam does his best to smile.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You are.”
Dean moves to stand in front of him and puts a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder, even gives it a squeeze. Sam shrugs and Dean hesitates awkwardly before speaking again.
“Hey do you wanna grab a…forget it. Never mind. Big day tomorrow.”
Then he turns to go and Sam stands up on reflex to get his brother’s attention, starts talking before he knows what to say.
“Dean, please stay with me tonight.”
Dean turns slowly to face him. Sam is getting pretty tired of Dean looking at him like he’s something to be afraid of.
“Wh…what?”
“Don’t go out drinking. Don’t leave me in here alone. Don’t fuck some stranger. Fuck, Dean, do I have to beg?”
Dean doesn’t say anything, so Sam grabs his brother’s wrist and kisses him so hard he hopes they’ll both feel it tomorrow. Dean lets it linger for much too long before he pushes Sam away. He takes Sam’s face into his hands gently and pulls him in for a much softer kiss-the kind of kiss Dean has been keeping Sam alive with their entire lives, even when they were just innocent brushes of lips on Sam’s forehead when Dean thought his little brother was sleeping. Dean lets out an injured sound almost immediately and tears himself away, shakes his head.
“No, I can’t. It’s not like that. It’s. I can’t.” He just keeps shaking his head like that will help him convince himself of what he’s saying. “We’re not doing that again. Because I can’t. Sammy, if it goes wrong again I’ll die.”
“It doesn’t have to go wrong again, Dean. We can make it better this time.”
Dean laughs, a bitter little sound as if the suggestion that it could ever be better than it had been can’t even be taken seriously.
“I’m going out, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Stay. Please, even if you won’t-can’t, whatever. Please just stay with me. Please.”
Dean looks resigned, like he has so many times before giving in to Sam’s pleas. They go to sleep in one twin bed that’s much too small to fit two full grown men until Sam wraps his body around Dean like he’d once done every night. Dean fits like a puzzle piece, still knows exactly how to position himself so that they morph together perfectly.
Sam thinks that’s all he’s going to get out of Dean and it’s finally enough. He’ll kill the Devil tomorrow, he’s sure of it. He has to live until tomorrow night; he has to have another night like this. But then he wakes up at some ridiculous hour of the morning and Dean is kissing his neck. As soon as he’s sure Sam’s awake, he starts kissing him all over.
“Dean, you said…”
“Shut up.”
Dean pushes Sam’s shirt up and kisses Sam’s chest, paws at Sam’s cock like it’s something he needs. He comes back up to look at Sam, tugging Sam’s shirt up even more until Sam, still confused, just goes with it and pulls it over his head.
“Still so…God, look at you, Sam.”
He straddles Sam and leans down to kiss him. Dean’s hard and he whispers into Sam’s ear: “Want you so bad, Sammy. Already opened myself up for you. Couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t fall asleep.”
Dean sits back up and as soon as he takes his shirt off, Sam is nearly torn in half by how much he wants Dean. He watches the amulet swing around Dean’s neck for a few seconds before it settles on his brother’s chest, it’s almost hypnotizing. Sam grabs it, not caring that he scratches Dean by clawing for it so desperately. He jerks Dean back down by the cord and kisses his brother, putting his other hand around Dean’s neck and using both hands to draw Dean in so close they almost don’t have room between them to kiss.
Sam realizes the amulet is clenched in his fist so hard it’ll break the skin on his palm. Maybe the thread is cutting into the back of Dean’s neck, too. Good, Sam thinks. It’s supposed to leave marks on Dean’s flesh. It’s supposed to be permanent. A part of him, just as much as the skin it’s breaking is, just like the little drops of blood-their blood, not just Dean’s-that will collect there. Dean just made a stupid mistake forgetting that. Sam knows all about stupid mistakes. It’s the kind of thing that is easily forgiven.
Sam groans as Dean continues to grope at him through his boxers and he pushes them down and kicks them off as soon as Dean gives him the space to do it. Dean stops kissing him then, pulls away enough for Sam to see his swollen lips, but not enough to make Sam let go.
“Fuck me,” Dean says it like a prayer. Sam nods, moves over so that Dean can lie on his back.
He sits up and reaches for the nightstand where Dean left a bottle of lube unstopped and he wasn’t kidding about already opening himself up. Sam’s relieved. He loves touching Dean, but right now he doesn’t think he can stand the wait. Sam tosses the sheets onto the other bed and yanks Dean’s boxers off with little ceremony. He needs to see all of Dean and the way the moonlight from the window hits his pale skin, Sam loses his breath and stops thinking for a moment. Nothing is allowed to be that beautiful, but his brother is.
“Give me everything you’ve got, Sammy.”
Sam hadn’t really been planning to hold back. He coats his cock with lube and Dean spreads his legs eagerly, he’s open so wide Sam has to wonder if it hurts.
Sam pushes his cock into Dean quickly, lets himself bottom out and then just rests there for a few seconds: panting, wanting to thrust almost out of control, but needing to cherish finally being inside of his brother again. Dean wraps his legs around Sam and takes him in his arms and Sam’s fingers find the amulet again, his grip much less insistent but equally resolute.
Sam pushes in and out in rhythm with Dean’s hips, which roll in ways Dean only ever moved when he was most desperate to make sure Sam felt good. Sam does, maybe better than he’s ever felt. Dean makes all the little sounds that Sam used to live off and Sam finds Dean’s sweet spot over and over. Dean is reduced to nothing but moans under Sam.
Sam can feel Dean’s cock against his chest, but the way they’re fucking, he can’t grab it. Not without letting go of the cable winding around his brother’s neck. Sam’s only human; he can’t give that up yet. Dean doesn’t ask him to, doesn’t bother jacking his own dick even though it would be easier for him. He’s clinging to Sam with all of his strength and Sam’s not going to complain.
“Dean, gonna-“
“Yeah. Yeah, do it. I…I’ve missed seeing you like this so much.”
Sam lets go, cries out Dean’s name blissfully after all those months swallowing it. He pulls out and falls by Dean’s side and Dean’s panting and shuddering and suddenly Sam remembers Dean isn’t finished. Dean curls his fingers around the base of his shaft but Sam licks his lips and bats Dean’s hand away.
“Mine,” he growls, and Dean nods.
Sam’s kisses are brief, move quickly. He begins on his brother’s lips, works down Dean’s jaw, neck; he pauses on Dean’s chest to suck a red mark over Dean’s heart. He leaves a series of quick kisses along the line of the amulet’s cord and smiles up at Dean as his tongue comes out and begins to lick down Dean’s flat stomach. He even kisses the coarse hairs at the base of Dean’s cock once his mouth has moved that low. There’s no part of Dean Sam doesn’t want to familiarize himself with.
When his tongue licks up the precome running down Dean’s shaft, Dean thrusts up and begs. It’s not often Dean is desperate enough to ask for something. Sam gives Dean what he wants, takes Dean so deep into his mouth that his eyes water. Sam makes short work of finally bringing Dean to his breaking point.
Dean wraps a hand in Sam’s hair but doesn’t push or pull, just reacquaints himself with the sensation of it. Sam swallows Dean’s come, doesn’t let a drop escape his greedy mouth and when he comes back up, Dean’s tongue seeks out his own taste in Sam’s mouth. Finally, the kiss relaxes and Dean reaches over to grab their covers from the other bed. He wraps Sam up and gets under them himself and lets his back press completely against Sam, their sweat-slicked skin touching in every place possible. Sam puts an arm around his brother and is almost asleep when Dean makes a soft confession.
“I’m scared, Sam. I’m scared I’ll lose you.”
Sam smiles and kisses Dean’s neck soothingly. He almost laughs. Suddenly, the idea that he won’t win tomorrow seems ludicrous.
“I’m not leaving you, Dean. Never again.”
He wakes up the next morning in bed alone and panics, worries that maybe it was a dream. He brings his hands up to his eyes and sees the proof of what happened, little horns indented into his palm. He sits up and his fears were unfounded, Dean is sitting on the other bed, looking at him like the worried big brother he is.
“You’re really creepy,” Sam jokes.
Dean smiles, but doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t say much as Sam gets ready, but Sam feels his eyes on him while he moves across the room preparing things. They kiss once before walking out the door, Dean isn’t hiding the amulet under layers of clothing anymore. It stands out proudly against Dean’s grey shirt and Sam smiles at it when he’s getting out of the car, about to go face Lucifer in a fight Dean can’t be there for. Dean will have to sit here in the Impala waiting and Sam knows from the day Dean killed Zachariah just how awful that is.
“You gonna be alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be asking me that.” Dean doesn’t pull off the lighthearted tone Sam knows he was going for.
Sam laughs awkwardly and knocks the hood of the Impala, prepares to say his just-in-case goodbyes. Then Dean pulls the amulet over his head and Sam thinks it’s a pretty sick joke until he reaches out and presses it into Sam’s hand.
“I want you to wear it. Just for today. Just while you…I want you to give it back as soon as you’re done.”
Sam slips it over his head and for the first time ever, it feels comforting on him. It feels like Dean. His goodbyes are forgotten-he doesn’t think he’ll need them now that he’s promised Dean to bring it back, now that he knows Dean will never take it off again once he’s returned it. In the end, he’s right about that.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Genre: Angst, Porn, Schmoop
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content and Language
Word Count: 3,386
Author’s Note: Written for the beautiful lavendergaia who wanted amulet!porn and was willing to put out in order to get some. Darling, I hope you like this. I will never be able to porn like you can, but hopefully you’ll like it, anyway? It’s got all the things you asked for: healing peen, post-5.16, top!Sam, and angst leading to happiness. This is unbeta’d and was written in a few hours, but I really wanted it to get it to lavendergaia quickly, so hopefully I won’t look at it tomorrow and go “Oh my God-I let people read that?!” ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: It’s just more amulet porn, guys. Who doesn’t like amulet porn? Coda to 5.16: Sam just wants to see his big brother wearing the amulet again.
It’s not even a question for Sam. As soon as Dean’s out the door, Sam stoops down and picks the amulet out of the trash, brings it up to look at it. He doesn’t let himself cry, Dean raised Sam better than that. He curls the cord around his fingers tight enough to make his skin go red and tries to feel the things he’s felt so many times while holding it. None of them are there, of course.
He finally understands Dean, realizes all the times Dean chose Sam over himself, all the things he’s done for him. He knew about them, of course, but it never really hit home until he saw that memory, Dean trying to hold their mother together. Being everything Sam’s ever had to depend on before Dean was even old enough to grasp what he was doing. Sam’s never Loved his big brother more than he does now. And Dean…maybe Dean understands Sam better, too, but that makes him look at Sam in a way even the demon blood didn’t. Sam is terrified by the thought, by how final it seems to make things. He looks down at the amulet in his hands.
It had meant something when it was just a cord hanging around Dean’s neck, a symbol of something Dean loved and believed in. Now it has a purpose, now it’s what it was meant to be. Now that Dean knows you, he doesn’t want you. Sam shakes his head and shoves it in his pocket. He can’t accept that, he won’t. Dean will learn to love this amulet as much as he loved it before. Better. He has to. Otherwise, he may never Love Sam again. Sam won’t even entertain the possibility.
He tries wearing it at first. The thin cord around his neck is familiar enough, this isn’t the first time it’s come down to him. He feels its weight for three days before he can’t stand it anymore. It’s like Hell all over again, like those four months he spent wearing it because he didn’t have Dean. He doesn’t like remembering those four months; he definitely doesn’t like that right now he feels as lost as he was then. He doesn’t have Dean now, either, not even with Dean sitting right next to him. Maybe that’s worse. Sam has nothing now; the only thing he wants hates him.
Wearing it before had been a comfort to him. Do this now, because Dean will want it back. And Sam hates that more than anything-that even when Dean was dead in the pit, Sam had a reason to hold on to it. He knew Dean would want it if Dean were there, so he would have it even if Dean never came back. Now all he has is hope. Do this now, because maybe one day, Dean will want it again. Hope like that runs thin fast when nothing’s keeping it alive.
He stops wearing it, for a few minutes he even tries to convince himself to throw it away, like Dean did. It’ll never be a comfort for Sam like it is-was-to Dean. Sam only likes the damn thing when it’s hanging around his brother’s neck. But he can’t accept that things between him and Dean are over, will ever be over. So he keeps taking it along. Sneaking glances at it whenever Dean’s not looking, making sure it’s still there. Dean never looks anymore. Sam spends more time with the amulet than his brother.
A month passes and things get worse, so much worse, before they get better. Sam almost gives up-on the amulet, on Dean, trying to win the damn Apocalypse, everything. And then it all turns around, almost suddenly. Dean doesn’t tell Sam what the angels did to shake him up, to make him care again, at least he doesn’t tell Sam the whole truth about it. Dean hasn’t bothered hiding things from him for his sake in a long time. It’s annoying, it’s what led to everything going wrong-but Sam nearly kisses Dean out of habit when he realizes that’s what Dean’s doing.
They have it back. Not all of it, of course, but Sam can appreciate small favors. He still has cuts from the fight they had and already they’re together again and Dean…he doesn’t look at Sam like he used to. But he looks. And he cares, he fights, they’re back in it. That matters more, Sam tries to convince himself. Apocalypse first, then worry about making Dean fall in Love with you. Sam has learned to ignore the better half of his heart on the matter. It’s sure he can’t win the Apocalypse without fixing what he had with Dean, but right now killing Lucifer seems easier than convincing Dean to touch him.
He’s almost obsessing over the amulet at this point. He keeps it on him now, not just shoved into his bag. He takes it out as soon as Dean is out of sight. He wonders if he should give it back yet, or if it’s too soon. He decides to wait for the right moment, for something huge and important, something that they’ll remember forever and that Dean will not be able to refute, to happen. Then he’ll give it back and Dean won’t even try to fight it. Of course, this isn’t how it happens. Sam doesn’t know why he even bothers making plans at this point.
He’s stroking a thumb over it, maybe lost in thought when Dean comes in. Sam doesn’t notice him, has no idea how long Dean’s been standing there watching.
“That’s mine,” Dean states simply.
Sam looks up, jolted out of whatever train of thought he’d been on by Dean’s voice, shaky with more emotion than Dean’s been able to muster up in months. Sam holds it out to him.
“You dropped it,” Sam says, as if that’s all that had happened.
Dean nods and grabs it out of Sam’s hands, his fingers rest in Sam’s palm for only a few perfect seconds before he pulls away sharply, as if he’s scared of getting his hand caught in some trap. Sam watches Dean’s face closely as he takes it back. There’s a reverent glow in Dean’s eyes, a tiny, private smile as he reacquaints himself with its weight and shape. Dean just stands there staring at it for so long, Sam almost thinks his brother’s going to cry. Then Dean shakes his head and looks back at Sam.
“I thought I’d lost it,” he explains, like he’s making an excuse for caring.
“Yeah,” Sam says softly. “I was worried you wouldn’t find it.”
He wants to see Dean put it on. He wants Dean to kiss him and tell him he’s forgotten about Heaven and everything awful Sam ever did. Dean doesn’t do any of those things; he walks out the door and leaves Sam to wonder if he’d imagined the fact that for maybe a minute, everything was better than it had been for more than two years.
The next time Sam sees Dean, he’s wearing it. Even if it’s hidden, it’s there, tucked under the layers of Dean’s shirts. Sam can see the little bump that, once upon a time, he’d used to run his fingers over while they kissed. It’s something, but it’s not enough. He wonders if anything will ever be enough again.
That night, Dean walks in while he’s jerking off. Sam stops when he sees him watching, but Dean doesn’t say anything. He comes into the room, he sits down on his bed and he watches Sam. He doesn’t touch himself and he certainly doesn’t touch Sam, but Sam swallows hard and keeps going. Dean hasn’t looked that ashamed to want him in ten years. Sam comes pretty quickly knowing Dean’s eyes are on him. Dean lets out a shallow breath before climbing into his bed, turning his back to Sam, and going to sleep. Sam cleans off and does the same. Big day tomorrow. Nothing to stay awake for tonight. There was a time when Sam thought he wanted a life that ran on a schedule.
After that, Sam gets angry. Dean always said he had a lousy temper. Sam doesn’t care anymore if he’s right. Dean wants him, Loves him, and things are good again, even if they aren’t perfect. Sam knows what will make them perfect. Dean knows, too. And they’re both too chicken shit to make it happen. Dean is good at putting up with that kind of thing. Sam never has been.
“Hey, you holding up okay?”
Sam looks up at Dean dazed and then remembers what Dean’s talking about. He’s supposed to be killing Lucifer tomorrow, same way Dean had killed Zachariah. Sam is supposed to be strong in a few hours and he’s got nothing to lean on. He’s felt more confident before-but then he made pretty stupid mistakes when he was confident.
“I. I guess. I mean, it killed Zachariah. It should work.”
Dean nods, obviously not convinced of Sam’s confidence.
“Hey. You’re gonna do great, Sammy.”
Sam does his best to smile.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You are.”
Dean moves to stand in front of him and puts a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder, even gives it a squeeze. Sam shrugs and Dean hesitates awkwardly before speaking again.
“Hey do you wanna grab a…forget it. Never mind. Big day tomorrow.”
Then he turns to go and Sam stands up on reflex to get his brother’s attention, starts talking before he knows what to say.
“Dean, please stay with me tonight.”
Dean turns slowly to face him. Sam is getting pretty tired of Dean looking at him like he’s something to be afraid of.
“Wh…what?”
“Don’t go out drinking. Don’t leave me in here alone. Don’t fuck some stranger. Fuck, Dean, do I have to beg?”
Dean doesn’t say anything, so Sam grabs his brother’s wrist and kisses him so hard he hopes they’ll both feel it tomorrow. Dean lets it linger for much too long before he pushes Sam away. He takes Sam’s face into his hands gently and pulls him in for a much softer kiss-the kind of kiss Dean has been keeping Sam alive with their entire lives, even when they were just innocent brushes of lips on Sam’s forehead when Dean thought his little brother was sleeping. Dean lets out an injured sound almost immediately and tears himself away, shakes his head.
“No, I can’t. It’s not like that. It’s. I can’t.” He just keeps shaking his head like that will help him convince himself of what he’s saying. “We’re not doing that again. Because I can’t. Sammy, if it goes wrong again I’ll die.”
“It doesn’t have to go wrong again, Dean. We can make it better this time.”
Dean laughs, a bitter little sound as if the suggestion that it could ever be better than it had been can’t even be taken seriously.
“I’m going out, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Stay. Please, even if you won’t-can’t, whatever. Please just stay with me. Please.”
Dean looks resigned, like he has so many times before giving in to Sam’s pleas. They go to sleep in one twin bed that’s much too small to fit two full grown men until Sam wraps his body around Dean like he’d once done every night. Dean fits like a puzzle piece, still knows exactly how to position himself so that they morph together perfectly.
Sam thinks that’s all he’s going to get out of Dean and it’s finally enough. He’ll kill the Devil tomorrow, he’s sure of it. He has to live until tomorrow night; he has to have another night like this. But then he wakes up at some ridiculous hour of the morning and Dean is kissing his neck. As soon as he’s sure Sam’s awake, he starts kissing him all over.
“Dean, you said…”
“Shut up.”
Dean pushes Sam’s shirt up and kisses Sam’s chest, paws at Sam’s cock like it’s something he needs. He comes back up to look at Sam, tugging Sam’s shirt up even more until Sam, still confused, just goes with it and pulls it over his head.
“Still so…God, look at you, Sam.”
He straddles Sam and leans down to kiss him. Dean’s hard and he whispers into Sam’s ear: “Want you so bad, Sammy. Already opened myself up for you. Couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t fall asleep.”
Dean sits back up and as soon as he takes his shirt off, Sam is nearly torn in half by how much he wants Dean. He watches the amulet swing around Dean’s neck for a few seconds before it settles on his brother’s chest, it’s almost hypnotizing. Sam grabs it, not caring that he scratches Dean by clawing for it so desperately. He jerks Dean back down by the cord and kisses his brother, putting his other hand around Dean’s neck and using both hands to draw Dean in so close they almost don’t have room between them to kiss.
Sam realizes the amulet is clenched in his fist so hard it’ll break the skin on his palm. Maybe the thread is cutting into the back of Dean’s neck, too. Good, Sam thinks. It’s supposed to leave marks on Dean’s flesh. It’s supposed to be permanent. A part of him, just as much as the skin it’s breaking is, just like the little drops of blood-their blood, not just Dean’s-that will collect there. Dean just made a stupid mistake forgetting that. Sam knows all about stupid mistakes. It’s the kind of thing that is easily forgiven.
Sam groans as Dean continues to grope at him through his boxers and he pushes them down and kicks them off as soon as Dean gives him the space to do it. Dean stops kissing him then, pulls away enough for Sam to see his swollen lips, but not enough to make Sam let go.
“Fuck me,” Dean says it like a prayer. Sam nods, moves over so that Dean can lie on his back.
He sits up and reaches for the nightstand where Dean left a bottle of lube unstopped and he wasn’t kidding about already opening himself up. Sam’s relieved. He loves touching Dean, but right now he doesn’t think he can stand the wait. Sam tosses the sheets onto the other bed and yanks Dean’s boxers off with little ceremony. He needs to see all of Dean and the way the moonlight from the window hits his pale skin, Sam loses his breath and stops thinking for a moment. Nothing is allowed to be that beautiful, but his brother is.
“Give me everything you’ve got, Sammy.”
Sam hadn’t really been planning to hold back. He coats his cock with lube and Dean spreads his legs eagerly, he’s open so wide Sam has to wonder if it hurts.
Sam pushes his cock into Dean quickly, lets himself bottom out and then just rests there for a few seconds: panting, wanting to thrust almost out of control, but needing to cherish finally being inside of his brother again. Dean wraps his legs around Sam and takes him in his arms and Sam’s fingers find the amulet again, his grip much less insistent but equally resolute.
Sam pushes in and out in rhythm with Dean’s hips, which roll in ways Dean only ever moved when he was most desperate to make sure Sam felt good. Sam does, maybe better than he’s ever felt. Dean makes all the little sounds that Sam used to live off and Sam finds Dean’s sweet spot over and over. Dean is reduced to nothing but moans under Sam.
Sam can feel Dean’s cock against his chest, but the way they’re fucking, he can’t grab it. Not without letting go of the cable winding around his brother’s neck. Sam’s only human; he can’t give that up yet. Dean doesn’t ask him to, doesn’t bother jacking his own dick even though it would be easier for him. He’s clinging to Sam with all of his strength and Sam’s not going to complain.
“Dean, gonna-“
“Yeah. Yeah, do it. I…I’ve missed seeing you like this so much.”
Sam lets go, cries out Dean’s name blissfully after all those months swallowing it. He pulls out and falls by Dean’s side and Dean’s panting and shuddering and suddenly Sam remembers Dean isn’t finished. Dean curls his fingers around the base of his shaft but Sam licks his lips and bats Dean’s hand away.
“Mine,” he growls, and Dean nods.
Sam’s kisses are brief, move quickly. He begins on his brother’s lips, works down Dean’s jaw, neck; he pauses on Dean’s chest to suck a red mark over Dean’s heart. He leaves a series of quick kisses along the line of the amulet’s cord and smiles up at Dean as his tongue comes out and begins to lick down Dean’s flat stomach. He even kisses the coarse hairs at the base of Dean’s cock once his mouth has moved that low. There’s no part of Dean Sam doesn’t want to familiarize himself with.
When his tongue licks up the precome running down Dean’s shaft, Dean thrusts up and begs. It’s not often Dean is desperate enough to ask for something. Sam gives Dean what he wants, takes Dean so deep into his mouth that his eyes water. Sam makes short work of finally bringing Dean to his breaking point.
Dean wraps a hand in Sam’s hair but doesn’t push or pull, just reacquaints himself with the sensation of it. Sam swallows Dean’s come, doesn’t let a drop escape his greedy mouth and when he comes back up, Dean’s tongue seeks out his own taste in Sam’s mouth. Finally, the kiss relaxes and Dean reaches over to grab their covers from the other bed. He wraps Sam up and gets under them himself and lets his back press completely against Sam, their sweat-slicked skin touching in every place possible. Sam puts an arm around his brother and is almost asleep when Dean makes a soft confession.
“I’m scared, Sam. I’m scared I’ll lose you.”
Sam smiles and kisses Dean’s neck soothingly. He almost laughs. Suddenly, the idea that he won’t win tomorrow seems ludicrous.
“I’m not leaving you, Dean. Never again.”
He wakes up the next morning in bed alone and panics, worries that maybe it was a dream. He brings his hands up to his eyes and sees the proof of what happened, little horns indented into his palm. He sits up and his fears were unfounded, Dean is sitting on the other bed, looking at him like the worried big brother he is.
“You’re really creepy,” Sam jokes.
Dean smiles, but doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t say much as Sam gets ready, but Sam feels his eyes on him while he moves across the room preparing things. They kiss once before walking out the door, Dean isn’t hiding the amulet under layers of clothing anymore. It stands out proudly against Dean’s grey shirt and Sam smiles at it when he’s getting out of the car, about to go face Lucifer in a fight Dean can’t be there for. Dean will have to sit here in the Impala waiting and Sam knows from the day Dean killed Zachariah just how awful that is.
“You gonna be alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be asking me that.” Dean doesn’t pull off the lighthearted tone Sam knows he was going for.
Sam laughs awkwardly and knocks the hood of the Impala, prepares to say his just-in-case goodbyes. Then Dean pulls the amulet over his head and Sam thinks it’s a pretty sick joke until he reaches out and presses it into Sam’s hand.
“I want you to wear it. Just for today. Just while you…I want you to give it back as soon as you’re done.”
Sam slips it over his head and for the first time ever, it feels comforting on him. It feels like Dean. His goodbyes are forgotten-he doesn’t think he’ll need them now that he’s promised Dean to bring it back, now that he knows Dean will never take it off again once he’s returned it. In the end, he’s right about that.