Supernatural: Brothers Called Bini
Title: Brothers Called Bini
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean/Winsister!Jess (and all combinations therein), background Sam/Brady (how much do you love me right now, Sara?)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (M/F incest, Twincest), Infidelity (if cheating on your demon boyfriend counts), and Language
Word Count: 6,018
Author’s Note: Written as a month late birthday present for the beautiful waterofthemoon who decided that the only way to make me ship Sam/Dean/Jess harder was to somehow make it even more incestuous. \o/ She asked for: “SAM/DEAN/JESS: AWESOME INCESTUOUS THREESOME! *\o/* can it pls have some threesome cuddling and also angst and schmoop and maybe some weecest? YAY.” Title stolen from Victor Hugo because he totally shipped a threesome and that’s awesome. This is by far the filthiest thing I have ever written. This is possibly the filthiest thing anyone has ever written. Thank you to clex_monkie89 for the awesome AND speedy beta :D I am using this for "sleepy times" for schmoop_bingo and I am hitting these cliches: "Threesomes and Moresomes", "Voyeurism", "The Way We Were: Pre-Canon", "First times", "Relative values: Families [wildcard]", "Alternate Universes", "Missing Persons"--DOUBLE BINGO, WHAT'S UP BITCHES?
Summary: AU: When Sam went to Stanford, he left behind a twin sister and an older brother-he’d been sleeping with both. Now, Dean and Jess come back into Sam’s life and Sam sees the effect leaving had on all three of them.
~*~
Sam had his first kiss in the back seat of the Impala when he was 13 years old. His sister’s lips were soft and scared and just as unsure of what to do as his were.
Sam’s first fuck was in the same spot, more than three years later. Dean was nowhere near unsure, but he trembled just the same, the word brother broke from his lips like an apology, tinged with a shame Jess hadn’t felt, not even at 13.
He grew up between those two, feeling like the rope in a tug-o-war. He discovered that the only winner in that particular game is the string in the middle, caught between two sides, treated like a prize, even though the winner was never quite sure what to do with him.
Sam and Jess had always been inseparable. Jess understood Sam in a way Dean never would, could talk to him without hiding anything. Jess was as confident as their big brother, as steady a shot, and as happy to be hunting, but she understood when Sam complained, didn’t feel like she was betraying Dad when she argued his side or held him and gave a sympathetic ear.
They tumbled onto everything together and it wasn’t strange to either of them that their lips met on that hot summer’s day, that they itched to touch each other sometimes, that Sam didn’t like when other boys looked at Jess. Sam couldn’t help falling in love with his sister, because Jess was just an extension of him-she was supposed to be Sam’s for the taking and he was supposed to be hers.
Dean wasn’t like Jess in that respect. He wasn’t something Sam took for granted. He wasn’t something Sam was supposed to have. Dean was the perfect big brother to both of them, of course, but as much as he tried to hide it, Sam was Dean’s baby. He doted on Jess, like Dad did, like Sam tried to when he could. He teased Sam and told him to get over it when he was hurting, but even Jess knew it was a show. Dean would have done anything for either of them, but the way he looked at Sam was almost more than Sam could bear.
Sam never got a big head about this, never pretended it was because he was particularly special. It was just dumb luck and, if Sam was being honest, there was just as much about it that was bad as there was good. Jess was John’s princess, a living reminder of the mother they’d lost, treated with open fondness that never reached to Sam and Dean. John didn’t take training easy on Jess because she was a girl, still made her the best soldier she could be, but he encouraged her more, gave her the pats on the back that Dean had starved for when he was her age. The pats Sam never had to starve for, because what John lacked in warmth towards him, Dean more than compensated for.
John never said anything about it out loud, but Sam knew something about him made their father uneasy-maybe because Mom had died over his cradle, maybe because John thought there was something dark about him that took his wife. Sam didn’t know why, but he knew it was the reason Dean coddled him as a kid, and Sam couldn’t help the dark part of him that was grateful for it. It meant Dean was his, too, and Sam took what both his siblings offered greedily.
Sam didn’t keep any secrets from Dean and Jess. They all knew what they were doing.
Jess was loyal through and through. From that fleeting kiss at 13, she never touched anyone but Sam, never kissed, never flirted. She didn’t even look at anyone else-except for when she was looking at Dean.
Sam was the same until the first time Dean let him get away with a kiss. Sam needed Dean, just as much as he needed Jess, and Jess was the first one to admit it out loud, long before Sam ever thought of acting on it. Jess wanted Sam to have it and Sam always knew that a part of her wanted Sam to bring the little pieces of affection Dean gave him to her, let them share that the way they’d shared everything.
Dean knew what Sam and Jess did together, wanted to be a part of it just as much as the twins both wanted him to. For a long time, Sam tried to hide it from him, knew that Dean would be even more uncomfortable about the idea of touching his little sister than he was about touching Sam. Sam even worried Dean would hate him for doing it. But he caught them the night they turned 17-caught Sam with his fingers buried in Jess, Jess spread wide open, and Sam’s gaze stayed fixed on Dean’s the entire time he stood there watching, his eyes dark, his expression broken. Dean couldn’t tear himself away until Jess opened her eyes and then it was only a second before he turned in shame and made himself scarce.
Dean wasn’t faithful to Sam. Sam never expected him to be. He didn’t fuck around as much after the first time he had sex with Sam, but there were always girls-tall blondes, pale imitations of what Dean really wanted, what Sam wanted desperately to give him. Dean wouldn’t even hear of it, wouldn’t let Sam and Jess trick him into falling. They tried, tortured him with long nights spent with Dean one bed over, pretending to sleep while Sam fucked Jess. Sam could see that it was hurting him to resist, but Dean never took the bait and after seeing his brother’s self-loathing expression one too many times, Sam stopped pushing altogether.
He therefore thought that Dean would never fuck Jess, accepted it as one of the world’s many sad but irrefutable facts.
~*~
Jess could have gone to Stanford with Sam. He asked, begged for months, and once or twice he saw her wavering. Her grades were good enough, but she didn’t even apply. The truth is, Sam knew even as he was begging that she didn’t want to at all, just didn’t want to face the alien idea of a life without her other half. For the same reason, Sam almost gave up on it. Jess didn’t let him. She knew too well that college was something he’d dreamed about his entire life, something he couldn’t be happy without. She stood over his shoulder and made sure he filled out the application and did her best to smile when she handed him the thick acceptance letter they hid from Dad and Dean for months.
In the end, Sam went to Stanford, one last kiss from his brother and his sister before leaving them both behind for the first time in his life.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam startles awake at the sound of something falling downstairs. At first, Sam tries to tell himself he’s just being paranoid. Just being a hunter. The sound repeats itself so Sam pushes the covers aside as carefully as he can and makes his way towards the disturbance.
The lights are on in the kitchen. When Sam reaches the room, he’s met by long tan legs, blonde hair, and a smile that was always just for him.
“Jess?”
Jess is sitting at his kitchen table like she couldn’t be more at home, like it hasn’t been over a year since she’s so much as answered his phone calls.
“Fancy running into you here,” she says: playful, flirty, completely aware of the effect she’s having on Sam just by being in the same room as him.
“In my kitchen?”
She drums her nails on the tabletop and looks up at him. Her expression says nothing, Sam is struck by how much she looks like Dean, how much it makes him want to suck on her plump bottom lip and get that careful, trained look off her face. A million memories of her with her head thrown back, her lips shaping Sam’s name, a little more emotion than Sam should be recollecting right now flash into his head and he shakes it to try to filter them out. Jess smirks knowingly.
“What do you want, Jess?”
“How you doing, Sam?” she asks, kicking the seat across from her out and giving Sam no choice but to sit.
“That’s it? You show up unannounced after two years and all you have to say is ‘how are you?’”
Jess shrugs. “I’m not allowed to show a little interest in my own twin brother?”
“You haven’t shown much up until now,” Sam says, trying very hard to keep his tone casual, not let it slip and go bitter. “None of you have.”
“I think we both know why that is.”
Sam bites his lip. “Where is he?”
Jess barks a laugh. “Hiding in some crappy motel off campus. He didn’t want to bother you. I had to wait until he fell asleep to slip out.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t think you want to see us.”
“I’ve been begging you guys to visit for years.”
“Yeah, well,” Jess shrugs, “it’s not like you can’t guess where he’s coming from.”
Sam’s eyes fall on the table and stay there for half a minute before Jess’s fingers are gripping his chin, tilting his head up to look at her.
“I’m not here to guilt you, Sam.”
“Then why are you here?”
Jess’s eyes dart to Sam’s mouth. “Missed you. Missed you too much.”
“And Dean…doesn’t miss me?”
“You know he does. He’s trying to do what’s best for you. And…maybe to protect himself. He…you can imagine.”
Sam doesn’t reply, knows he doesn’t have to tell his sister how much he missed them both. She stands then and sits on Sam’s lap, presses a quick kiss to his mouth. He realizes something as soon as her lips move against his and pulls back on reflex.
“You and Dean? Are-?”
She brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes and Sam can see how sad she is.
“A lot changed when you left, Sam. We were both lonely, okay? And he…he needed…you.”
Sam rests his head against her shoulder. “Don’t apologize, Jess. I understand. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Sam’s lips turn down and he’s grateful Jess can’t see it. He’s not lying, not entirely. Sam always wanted Jess and Dean to get this; he just never imagined he’d be the one left out when they did.
“We come to check on you, ya know. Often. This is just, was just supposed to be another quick peek. But Sam, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re here, though. I wish he’d…”
Sam pulls away and eyes his sister. He settles his gaze on her breast, imagines how good it would feel to suck it into his mouth, wonders if it’s got a red mark from Dean’s lips on it already or if Sam could bruise the skin and send Jess back to Dean with a little bit of him, the way Sam used to share Dean with Jess. He wonders if Dean would notice, if he would figure it out, if he’d be pissed at Jess and Sam, or if it would make him ache enough to come see his little brother.
Jess’s fingers slip underneath the thin strap of her shirt, like she’s about to expose herself, like she knows exactly what Sam was thinking and wants to know the answers just as bad as he does. But something rings out loud and Jess jumps up on instinct just before there’s someone standing in the doorway.
“Sam? Are you up at this time?”
Brady comes in, hair mussed, eyes heavy with sleep and looks from Sam to Jess with confusion. Sam feels a guilty pang, realizes he’d been kissing Jess and had completely forgotten Brady existed.
“I, uh, yeah. Brady, this is Jess.”
“Jess? Your sister Jess?”
Sam nods and rises to stand next to Brady. “Jess, this is my boyfriend, Brady.”
Jess’s eyes rove up and down appreciatively. “You are way out of my brother’s league,” she says with a lewd wink and Brady laughs.
“That’s your evil twin alright,” says Brady. “I’ll, uh, go find a shirt. And some real pants.”
“Don’t go to all that trouble just for me.” Jess smiles wickedly for a moment or so before it falters. “Look, I, uh. I need to talk to Sam. Alone.”
Brady looks to Sam.
“Whatever you need to say, Brady can hear it.”
“Okay,” Jess says, dragging the second syllable on to emphasize how stupid of an idea she thinks that is. “I want you to come see Dean.”
“Who’s Dean?” Brady asks.
Sam freezes up uncomfortably, feels a hot spike of shame go through him hearing Brady say the name Sam had selfishly never intended to share. Jess’s mouth drops open and she looks at Sam, more open confusion in her features than Sam’s ever seen.
“Maybe Jess is right. You should go back to bed.”
Brady shrugs and leaves the room and Jess explains what she has in mind, gives Sam instructions he should really know better than to follow.
~*~
Jess is reclining against the Impala when Sam gets to the motel the next day. She smiles and waves when she sees Sam but doesn’t move away from the car. Sam appreciates the excuse to get close enough to run his hand over the impeccable black surface; his stomach tightens in guilt and anticipation when he thinks of Dean lovingly waxing the hot metal.
Jess pulls him against her, kisses him deeply as he braces himself against their brother’s car.
“You ready?”
“Not really sure, Jess. I don’t know what I’m here for.”
“I bet you can imagine.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“It might be. Something’s gotta be done.”
“About?”
“Us. All three of us. Dean and I are…it’s been rough lately and as lovely as Brady was, you can’t sit here and pretend you haven’t missed us.”
Sam shakes his head, still not convinced it’s a good idea, but knowing himself too well to pretend he isn’t at least going to try. “Dean won’t go for it.”
She smiles sadly and smoothes Sam’s hair back. “Dean’s always made exceptions for you, Sam. Trust me; I’ve watched him for the last two years. We’ve tried everything. Sometimes we bring home boys to share. Boys who, well, they don’t look like you, but they pass. And sometimes, he fucks me from behind or I…” she blushes and looks down, “we both think of you when we do it, even if we don’t admit it out loud. My point is: none of it works. Dean might try to say no, but he’ll crack easy. And this isn’t like before; I’m not trying to bully him into it now. He needs it. I do too and even if you don’t, you want it. And you fucking owe it to us.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Maybe not. But you owe him. We owe him a lot. Aside from the fact that we both just want to make him happy, am I right?”
Sam nods.
“It’s the best thing you could do for him, unless you’ve decided to have a change of heart and come back. Which I know you haven’t. So.”
“So,” Sam says, taking his sister’s hand nervously and giving it a squeeze. “Together?”
“Like always.”
They walk the rest of the way to the room Jess and Dean are sharing hand-in-hand, but Jess breaks away when they reach the door.
“We should come in separately.”
Sam shrugs and watches as Jess slides her keycard into the door and the lock clicks open. Dean is sitting on one of the beds cleaning some guns and Sam freezes, eyes fixed on the forgotten familiarity of the scene. Dean is somehow even more gorgeous than Sam remembered.
“Did you get dinner?” he asks without lifting his eyes from the guns.
“Not exactly,” Jess says, biting her bottom lip.
Dean does look up then, his eyebrows drawn together, until his eyes catch on Sam.
“Sammy,” he says it almost like it’s a question, his voice dangerously close to cracking. His eyes are soft and miserable and Sam almost turns and flees when he realizes they’re even a little scared of him.
Sam’s thinks he sees Dean’s lips begin to tremble before the entire parade of emotions is silenced and Dean’s expression goes cold. His eyes flick over to Jess.
“Fuck you,” he says, setting the gun he’d been so lovingly putting back together aside.
“Dean-” she starts, but Dean’s accusing gaze doesn’t waver and she stops dead.
“Take him back. Don’t…I told you not to tell him we were…”
“Yeah, and I didn’t listen. You don’t call all the shots, Dean.”
Dean’s pointedly keeping his eyes on Jess, not letting them so much as dart in Sam’s direction, but Sam can see his muscles straining, like he has to fight every instinct to do it.
“I don’t want to see him,” Dean says. Sam would break down hearing his brother say it if there’d been a single shred of conviction in his words.
“I do.”
“So? You can do whatever the fuck you want, but you don’t bring him back here. Fuck, Jess. Fuck.”
“I’ll just go,” says Sam, defeated.
He’s turning for the door when Jess grabs his face and pulls him in for a kiss. Sam returns it without thinking about it, and when Jess continues to deepen it, tangles her fingers in his hair, Sam loses every reason why he should be leaving and pulls her hips in close instead.
When she breaks away, lips swollen, Sam sees a steely determination in her eyes and knows they haven’t lost the fight yet. She turns on Dean then and approaches the bed slowly. Dean’s mouth is slightly ajar, he’s watching Jess with a longing Sam used to think only he would ever experience. The familiar way she fits into his lap when she straddles him, his hands finding exactly the right spot to rest immediately; seeing them together like that sends hot waves through Sam’s entire body.
“I taste like him, Dean. Got him all over my mouth, just for you.”
Dean makes a pained sound, but he’s the one that surges up to catch Jess’s lips and he kisses her so hard it looks like it hurts. Sam steps forward to get a better look-he doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten until Jess pulls her lips away from Dean’s and turns to reach out to him.
Sam can’t help himself then, stumbles even closer blindly until his hand is enveloping hers. First she guides it up, rubs her face against it, closes her eyes and moans when Dean’s mouth closes on her neck.
Sam moves down and kisses her again, but it’s not long before she pulls out of the kiss and brings her hands to the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him off her. Dean’s eyes are dark when he draws away from her enough for Sam to see them. He turns and meets Sam’s gaze head on for the first time since Sam arrived and Sam leans forward to kiss him.
Dean flinches and turns his head away, it makes Sam suddenly begin to feel like what they’re doing is wrong. Jess must see the whole exchange, because she’s not having any of it. She stands, steps back from Dean’s lap, and tugs him up by one hand. When Dean’s standing, she grabs Sam and draws him back, then falls onto the bed, leaving Sam and Dean staring at each other.
“Help Dean out of his clothes,” she says. Sam looks to her, then back to Dean. He wants to do it so bad he can hardly control himself and Dean, to Sam’s surprise, licks his lips and nods.
Sam reaches out, lets his fingers graze Dean’s jacket cautiously, like he’s approaching an animal that might strike. Dean visibly relaxes as Sam eases him into it and before long, Sam has Dean’s jacket pooled on the floor around their feet.
Dean closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath when Sam’s hands find his fly, but he doesn’t move away. Jess moans from the bed and Sam and Dean both turn to look at her. Sam had forgotten how hot it used to get him to watch Jess touch herself, so seeing her on the bed now with her legs wide open and her hand buried in white satin panties is more than Sam can take. His dick twitches against his jeans-not the most comfortable thing in the world-and her lips turn up a little. Her eyes are fixed on Sam’s hands.
Dean’s jeans fall to the floor, his belt makes a metallic sound when it hits the wood and Sam turns to look at his sister’s chest as he pushes a hand under the cotton of Dean’s T shirt, moves up less with the intention of getting it off and more out of a desperate need to touch.
Unsettled by Sam’s contact, Dean pulls the shirt over his head in one quick motion and robs Sam of the excuse. Sam ignores the way his hand made Dean’s cock swell up in his boxers, knows he’s not allowed to push right now and remind Dean that he wants Sam to touch him like that.
Jess pulls her shirt off as well and Sam stops to stare at her. “Panties, too,” he says, wanting to see all of her, the way he’s about to see all of Dean. She nods, pulls her fingers out just long enough to tug them down her legs and toss them away. Sam does the same with Dean’s underwear and suddenly feels very hot and very overdressed in all his layers of clothing.
Dean finally looks at him warmly then, takes hold of Sam’s jacket and pulls at it, like he wants Sam to take it off himself. Sam almost challenges him, tells Dean to help him out if he wants it off so bad, but Jess shakes her head at him and Sam remembers this is no longer his birthright. He’s here on their charity.
Both Jess and Dean are looking at him now, like they expect him to know what comes next. Two years ago, Sam would gladly have had all the answers, but now he feels scared, like this is an audition for something and he might be tossed aside any moment. He goes with what he wants the most, it’s safest anyway.
“Fuck her,” he says to Dean. “I…I won’t even touch you. I won’t do anything you don’t want. Do the same thing you do when I’m not here. I just wanna finally see.”
Dean’s eyes somehow manage to get sadder and Sam swears Dean’s going to ask for something, but instead he nods and pulls the drawer by the nightstand open, taking a condom. Sam sees a bottle of lube sitting inside it but resists the urge to go grab it up, stays sitting at the end of the bed where he promised he would.
Dean’s ready to go in a matter of minutes and Jess is so warm and inviting on the bed, arms held open, cunt wet and stretched enough to take Dean. Sam sits on the bed next to where Jess is lying, doesn’t even bother to finish undressing or touch himself, just watches his big brother sink into her. Sam thinks it’s almost stupid how beautiful the two of them are, knows he doesn’t deserve how lucky he is.
Dean kisses her adoringly as he takes her, thrusts his hips in and they both moan together when he pulls back and rolls forward again. Sam’s forgotten a lot of the little things about being with Dean and Jess, but this rhythm is one he’ll always know by heart. He’s copied these thrusts into his hand, trying to hold on to what it was like to be with Dean, too many times to forget what it feels like to be where Jess is. Or to be over Dean, thrusting into him-Sam’s tries to push the thought away, but now that Dean is right there, he wants it so bad he can’t keep his promise not to interfere.
Both his siblings have their eyes on him as they fuck, so he sees how confused they are when he stands. He makes for the nightstand, for the lube he’d seen earlier and, reliable as ever, Jess reads his mind.
Her hands stroke down Dean then: slowly, torturing Sam. He knows how aware she is of his eyes following her movement down Dean’s body. When she reaches Dean’s ass, she pulls his cheeks apart, exposing Dean’s hole to Sam, and her legs unwrap from around his hips, giving Sam all the space he needs.
Sam makes a mess with the lube, too excited to measure how much he’s squeezing out, but Jess and Dean are too distracted to notice. Sam wonders if, in some other world, they would be doing this and Dean would be comfortable enough with him to make fun of things like that again. He shakes his head to keep focus and pushes his index finger into the tight ring of muscles.
Dean cries out in surprise then, fucks into Jess quickly a few times in response. Sam doesn’t spend much time trying to make it good for Dean before he pulls out and adds another finger. Dean buries himself in Jess then, not just his cock, but his face on her neck, and he whispers something as Sam fucks into him with his fingers.
Jess moans in response to whatever Dean says and then she lifts her head so she can see Sam over Dean’s body.
“Give him your cock, Sam. He’s begging for it.”
Sam speeds up, because he’s not sure Dean’s ready yet, but he doesn’t think he can wait much, either. He strips his clothes off unceremoniously and he gropes for a condom with one hand while grabbing up the lube and preparing to coat himself in it with the other. Sam leans into Dean, his lips graze his brother’s ear.
“Dean, you want that? Want me to fuck you?”
Dean nods but it’s not good enough. Sam suddenly needs to hear it, needs to be able to replay his brother’s cries when this is over and he’s back on the outside of what Jess and Dean have.
When Dean finally replies, it’s not anything like Sam was hoping for or expecting. It’s not anything like the Dean Sam fucked so many times before. It’s quiet, almost shy, and so desperate it hurts Sam. “Please, Sammy. Please.”
Sam kisses him fleetingly on the neck then, the chaste kind of kiss Sam always wanted to give Dean when he was a kid and Dean made multiple dinners just so Sam and Jess could have exactly what they wanted.
Sam moves down then, gets balls deep in Dean with one quick move. Dean gasps, pushes into Jess and back onto Sam and lets out a debauched sound that drives Sam back into him again and again. Jess makes little pleased noises every time Sam thrusts down and it’s like he’s fucking them both at once. Dean moves however Sam wants him to, and from the look on Jess’s face, she couldn’t be happier about it.
“God I can’t,” Dean says, but Sam knows it’s not because he regrets what they’re doing.
“Can’t what?” Jess asks, punctuating her question with cry that makes her throw her head back. Sam feels her hips move up into Dean.
“Can’t last. Not with. Sam. Fuck. Sam.”
Sam only makes it worse for Dean. He can’t help being satisfied by the painful strain in Dean’s voice. Sam wants to him feel this, finally, after all those years he left Sam pushing between them, caught in the agonizing bliss of having to be everything for both of them because Dean was too scared to share.
“I can’t last. Fuck, Jess, I’m sorry. I’m gonna come.”
Jess doesn’t seem too upset; she kisses him and smiles and lets Sam push Dean down so deep into her Sam’s surprised she can still take it.
“Don’t worry, Dean. I’m gonna finish her off for you. Like before. You remember that? You remember how much you liked to see me giving it to her?”
Dean really does shoot then, Sam feels him tightening around his dick as he empties himself into Jess and Jess’s hands stroke him through it, run down his spine soothingly. Sam pulls out of him with some reluctance and Dean rolls onto his side, breathing like he’s been underwater for an hour.
“Do it, do it. Fuck her, Sam.”
Sam is more than happy to oblige and Jess welcomes him in, his name on her lips as he follows Dean’s lead. He slides into her-so fucking wet from Dean’s cock-and fucks with little control over his actions. Jess moves with him anyway, manages to fit against him easy as ever. Sam can feel Dean’s eyes on him-it’s a lucky thing Jess is already close by the time Sam gets to her, because she’s just hardly riding out the end of her orgasm when Sam’s hits, sudden and so intense he nearly blacks out.
Sam rolls off to the side Dean isn’t on and Jess rests one hand on each of their heads. Dean looks up at her, then moves his hands in between her thighs. The thought of what Dean’s headed for makes Sam’s body feel light and he almost wants to bury his face in her, lick up everything they did to her-he and Dean together-even though she’s so fucked out it would probably do her more harm than good.
Dean’s fingers dip into her, feel around lazily for a brief moment before he pulls them out and brings them to his lips. He licks at them, then sucks them into his mouth; Dean’s lips didn’t really need help being obscene. He repeats the action when he’s done, but before he can get his mouth on his wet fingers, Jess snatches his hand and mimics his technique, swirls her tongue around his fingertips.
Dean watches her like a hawk, watches her relish it. His eyes meet Sam’s and he slowly moves his hand all the way down her body, tormenting Sam as he waits for his turn.
When he’s got Dean’s fingers in his mouth, Jess’s come dripping between them, Sam goes at them with the enthusiasm he once reserved for sucking Dean off. From the way Dean’s breath goes shallow, he knows that’s exactly what Sam’s trying to remind him of.
He pulls his fingers out then and Sam tries to stop him, scared Dean is going back on the carefully established sense of comfort between them. Dean doesn’t let up as easily as Sam was hoping, so he stops struggling to keep hold on Dean’s hand.
He watches a thin strand of saliva stretch from his lips to Dean’s hand and then Dean catches him off guard, chases it until his lips press firmly, confidently, and so fucking lovingly Sam literally almost cries, against Sam’s own.
Dean lets those wet fingers tangle in Sam’s hair. They kiss over their sister for so long that Sam loses track of everything that’s just happened, just lives on the thought that it’s Dean and Dean is kissing him and finally the three of them are exactly what they should be.
Jess is content to let them kiss, strokes her fingers in their hair and makes sure they stay close together until all three of them are worn out and Sam and Dean collapse into their sister’s embrace. Sam wraps an arm around Jess’s middle and she makes a soft content sound. Dean reaches his arm out as well, crosses it over Sam and wraps his hand around her other side. They drift off then, lying on the bed the wrong way, not fitting properly, but somehow more comfortable than Sam can ever remember being.
He doesn’t know how long they doze before they really start to wake up. As soon as he opens his eyes, he sees the deep green of his brother’s gaze fixed on him. Dean’s watching him, tender but sad again, and Sam realizes that this time the spell really is broken.
“Hey Sammy,” he says.
“Hey. She still sleeping?”
Dean’s lips turn up a little and he nods. “She’s as impossible to get out of bed as ever.”
Sam smiles at the memories that brings up. He was the only Winchester who ever knew how to wake Jess without pissing her off. He kisses up her chest now, not sexual as much as just wanting to feel her respond under him and she doesn’t disappoint.
“Morning, boys,” she says lazily.
“It’s 8:30 p.m., sleeping beauty.”
“Bah,” she retorts, attempting to go back to sleep.
Dean sits up then and shakes her. “You gotta get up, Jess. We have to take Sammy-we…he has to get back to. Whatever, we’ve got a hunt in Nevada tomorrow, so let’s go.”
“Won’t have to go anywhere if Sam stays.”
Sam freezes. For a moment he panics, thinks maybe this was the plan all along. He doesn’t think he can say no to both of them, not after what they just did. But Dean’s face goes furious and he gets out of bed and picks her clothes off the floor, tossing them at her as he starts to slide his jeans up his legs.
“Get dressed. Both of you.” Dean stomps out, leaving Sam and Jess to dress.
Jess sits up and rubs her eyes. “He wants you to, you know. He’s just trying to do what’ll make you happiest. But if that’s stay he’ll-”
“Jess, Dean’s right about this one. I’m going back.”
Jess looks down and shrugs. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
Sam cups her chin then, like she’d done at his table last night when she’d first shown up, and gives her his best attempt at a brave kiss.
They drive back to Sam’s apartment in comfortable silence, but there’s nothing for him to go return to when they pull up in front of the building. Nothing, that is, except fire and ashes, a crowd of people, and a fire truck full of men who won’t let Sam in.
Brady’s body isn’t found, but no one sees him again. The police assume there just isn’t enough of him left to find, Sam doesn’t know better than to believe it.
Dean doesn’t take them back to the motel they’d been at earlier, but with or without the reminder, Sam can’t help thinking about it. Brady died, he died, because Sam was too busy fucking around to protect him.
That night they sit at a diner on the way to some bullshit hunt, the patented Dean Winchester way to deal with trauma. His brother’s predictability, the incredibly unsatisfying yet genuine attempt at a distraction, is the only thing that even comes close to comforting Sam for days, maybe weeks.
Sam stares ahead, not hearing what anyone says, not seeing what happens around him-can’t even focus on the brother and sister he’d been longing to see more than anything for years. He stares at his food but he doesn’t eat, and when Jess runs her fingers through his hair and tells him it wasn’t his fault, it only makes Sam more sure that it was.
They get him back, Sam gets them back-under any other circumstances, that would be a blessing. The way it happens, there’s nothing to celebrate, no dreams to chase and hope may come true, nothing but three hunters: broken, battered, with nothing left to hold on to but each other.
Want more? HERE'S A TIMESTAMP
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean/Winsister!Jess (and all combinations therein), background Sam/Brady (how much do you love me right now, Sara?)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (M/F incest, Twincest), Infidelity (if cheating on your demon boyfriend counts), and Language
Word Count: 6,018
Author’s Note: Written as a month late birthday present for the beautiful waterofthemoon who decided that the only way to make me ship Sam/Dean/Jess harder was to somehow make it even more incestuous. \o/ She asked for: “SAM/DEAN/JESS: AWESOME INCESTUOUS THREESOME! *\o/* can it pls have some threesome cuddling and also angst and schmoop and maybe some weecest? YAY.” Title stolen from Victor Hugo because he totally shipped a threesome and that’s awesome. This is by far the filthiest thing I have ever written. This is possibly the filthiest thing anyone has ever written. Thank you to clex_monkie89 for the awesome AND speedy beta :D I am using this for "sleepy times" for schmoop_bingo and I am hitting these cliches: "Threesomes and Moresomes", "Voyeurism", "The Way We Were: Pre-Canon", "First times", "Relative values: Families [wildcard]", "Alternate Universes", "Missing Persons"--DOUBLE BINGO, WHAT'S UP BITCHES?
Summary: AU: When Sam went to Stanford, he left behind a twin sister and an older brother-he’d been sleeping with both. Now, Dean and Jess come back into Sam’s life and Sam sees the effect leaving had on all three of them.
~*~
Sam had his first kiss in the back seat of the Impala when he was 13 years old. His sister’s lips were soft and scared and just as unsure of what to do as his were.
Sam’s first fuck was in the same spot, more than three years later. Dean was nowhere near unsure, but he trembled just the same, the word brother broke from his lips like an apology, tinged with a shame Jess hadn’t felt, not even at 13.
He grew up between those two, feeling like the rope in a tug-o-war. He discovered that the only winner in that particular game is the string in the middle, caught between two sides, treated like a prize, even though the winner was never quite sure what to do with him.
Sam and Jess had always been inseparable. Jess understood Sam in a way Dean never would, could talk to him without hiding anything. Jess was as confident as their big brother, as steady a shot, and as happy to be hunting, but she understood when Sam complained, didn’t feel like she was betraying Dad when she argued his side or held him and gave a sympathetic ear.
They tumbled onto everything together and it wasn’t strange to either of them that their lips met on that hot summer’s day, that they itched to touch each other sometimes, that Sam didn’t like when other boys looked at Jess. Sam couldn’t help falling in love with his sister, because Jess was just an extension of him-she was supposed to be Sam’s for the taking and he was supposed to be hers.
Dean wasn’t like Jess in that respect. He wasn’t something Sam took for granted. He wasn’t something Sam was supposed to have. Dean was the perfect big brother to both of them, of course, but as much as he tried to hide it, Sam was Dean’s baby. He doted on Jess, like Dad did, like Sam tried to when he could. He teased Sam and told him to get over it when he was hurting, but even Jess knew it was a show. Dean would have done anything for either of them, but the way he looked at Sam was almost more than Sam could bear.
Sam never got a big head about this, never pretended it was because he was particularly special. It was just dumb luck and, if Sam was being honest, there was just as much about it that was bad as there was good. Jess was John’s princess, a living reminder of the mother they’d lost, treated with open fondness that never reached to Sam and Dean. John didn’t take training easy on Jess because she was a girl, still made her the best soldier she could be, but he encouraged her more, gave her the pats on the back that Dean had starved for when he was her age. The pats Sam never had to starve for, because what John lacked in warmth towards him, Dean more than compensated for.
John never said anything about it out loud, but Sam knew something about him made their father uneasy-maybe because Mom had died over his cradle, maybe because John thought there was something dark about him that took his wife. Sam didn’t know why, but he knew it was the reason Dean coddled him as a kid, and Sam couldn’t help the dark part of him that was grateful for it. It meant Dean was his, too, and Sam took what both his siblings offered greedily.
Sam didn’t keep any secrets from Dean and Jess. They all knew what they were doing.
Jess was loyal through and through. From that fleeting kiss at 13, she never touched anyone but Sam, never kissed, never flirted. She didn’t even look at anyone else-except for when she was looking at Dean.
Sam was the same until the first time Dean let him get away with a kiss. Sam needed Dean, just as much as he needed Jess, and Jess was the first one to admit it out loud, long before Sam ever thought of acting on it. Jess wanted Sam to have it and Sam always knew that a part of her wanted Sam to bring the little pieces of affection Dean gave him to her, let them share that the way they’d shared everything.
Dean knew what Sam and Jess did together, wanted to be a part of it just as much as the twins both wanted him to. For a long time, Sam tried to hide it from him, knew that Dean would be even more uncomfortable about the idea of touching his little sister than he was about touching Sam. Sam even worried Dean would hate him for doing it. But he caught them the night they turned 17-caught Sam with his fingers buried in Jess, Jess spread wide open, and Sam’s gaze stayed fixed on Dean’s the entire time he stood there watching, his eyes dark, his expression broken. Dean couldn’t tear himself away until Jess opened her eyes and then it was only a second before he turned in shame and made himself scarce.
Dean wasn’t faithful to Sam. Sam never expected him to be. He didn’t fuck around as much after the first time he had sex with Sam, but there were always girls-tall blondes, pale imitations of what Dean really wanted, what Sam wanted desperately to give him. Dean wouldn’t even hear of it, wouldn’t let Sam and Jess trick him into falling. They tried, tortured him with long nights spent with Dean one bed over, pretending to sleep while Sam fucked Jess. Sam could see that it was hurting him to resist, but Dean never took the bait and after seeing his brother’s self-loathing expression one too many times, Sam stopped pushing altogether.
He therefore thought that Dean would never fuck Jess, accepted it as one of the world’s many sad but irrefutable facts.
~*~
Jess could have gone to Stanford with Sam. He asked, begged for months, and once or twice he saw her wavering. Her grades were good enough, but she didn’t even apply. The truth is, Sam knew even as he was begging that she didn’t want to at all, just didn’t want to face the alien idea of a life without her other half. For the same reason, Sam almost gave up on it. Jess didn’t let him. She knew too well that college was something he’d dreamed about his entire life, something he couldn’t be happy without. She stood over his shoulder and made sure he filled out the application and did her best to smile when she handed him the thick acceptance letter they hid from Dad and Dean for months.
In the end, Sam went to Stanford, one last kiss from his brother and his sister before leaving them both behind for the first time in his life.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam startles awake at the sound of something falling downstairs. At first, Sam tries to tell himself he’s just being paranoid. Just being a hunter. The sound repeats itself so Sam pushes the covers aside as carefully as he can and makes his way towards the disturbance.
The lights are on in the kitchen. When Sam reaches the room, he’s met by long tan legs, blonde hair, and a smile that was always just for him.
“Jess?”
Jess is sitting at his kitchen table like she couldn’t be more at home, like it hasn’t been over a year since she’s so much as answered his phone calls.
“Fancy running into you here,” she says: playful, flirty, completely aware of the effect she’s having on Sam just by being in the same room as him.
“In my kitchen?”
She drums her nails on the tabletop and looks up at him. Her expression says nothing, Sam is struck by how much she looks like Dean, how much it makes him want to suck on her plump bottom lip and get that careful, trained look off her face. A million memories of her with her head thrown back, her lips shaping Sam’s name, a little more emotion than Sam should be recollecting right now flash into his head and he shakes it to try to filter them out. Jess smirks knowingly.
“What do you want, Jess?”
“How you doing, Sam?” she asks, kicking the seat across from her out and giving Sam no choice but to sit.
“That’s it? You show up unannounced after two years and all you have to say is ‘how are you?’”
Jess shrugs. “I’m not allowed to show a little interest in my own twin brother?”
“You haven’t shown much up until now,” Sam says, trying very hard to keep his tone casual, not let it slip and go bitter. “None of you have.”
“I think we both know why that is.”
Sam bites his lip. “Where is he?”
Jess barks a laugh. “Hiding in some crappy motel off campus. He didn’t want to bother you. I had to wait until he fell asleep to slip out.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t think you want to see us.”
“I’ve been begging you guys to visit for years.”
“Yeah, well,” Jess shrugs, “it’s not like you can’t guess where he’s coming from.”
Sam’s eyes fall on the table and stay there for half a minute before Jess’s fingers are gripping his chin, tilting his head up to look at her.
“I’m not here to guilt you, Sam.”
“Then why are you here?”
Jess’s eyes dart to Sam’s mouth. “Missed you. Missed you too much.”
“And Dean…doesn’t miss me?”
“You know he does. He’s trying to do what’s best for you. And…maybe to protect himself. He…you can imagine.”
Sam doesn’t reply, knows he doesn’t have to tell his sister how much he missed them both. She stands then and sits on Sam’s lap, presses a quick kiss to his mouth. He realizes something as soon as her lips move against his and pulls back on reflex.
“You and Dean? Are-?”
She brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes and Sam can see how sad she is.
“A lot changed when you left, Sam. We were both lonely, okay? And he…he needed…you.”
Sam rests his head against her shoulder. “Don’t apologize, Jess. I understand. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Sam’s lips turn down and he’s grateful Jess can’t see it. He’s not lying, not entirely. Sam always wanted Jess and Dean to get this; he just never imagined he’d be the one left out when they did.
“We come to check on you, ya know. Often. This is just, was just supposed to be another quick peek. But Sam, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re here, though. I wish he’d…”
Sam pulls away and eyes his sister. He settles his gaze on her breast, imagines how good it would feel to suck it into his mouth, wonders if it’s got a red mark from Dean’s lips on it already or if Sam could bruise the skin and send Jess back to Dean with a little bit of him, the way Sam used to share Dean with Jess. He wonders if Dean would notice, if he would figure it out, if he’d be pissed at Jess and Sam, or if it would make him ache enough to come see his little brother.
Jess’s fingers slip underneath the thin strap of her shirt, like she’s about to expose herself, like she knows exactly what Sam was thinking and wants to know the answers just as bad as he does. But something rings out loud and Jess jumps up on instinct just before there’s someone standing in the doorway.
“Sam? Are you up at this time?”
Brady comes in, hair mussed, eyes heavy with sleep and looks from Sam to Jess with confusion. Sam feels a guilty pang, realizes he’d been kissing Jess and had completely forgotten Brady existed.
“I, uh, yeah. Brady, this is Jess.”
“Jess? Your sister Jess?”
Sam nods and rises to stand next to Brady. “Jess, this is my boyfriend, Brady.”
Jess’s eyes rove up and down appreciatively. “You are way out of my brother’s league,” she says with a lewd wink and Brady laughs.
“That’s your evil twin alright,” says Brady. “I’ll, uh, go find a shirt. And some real pants.”
“Don’t go to all that trouble just for me.” Jess smiles wickedly for a moment or so before it falters. “Look, I, uh. I need to talk to Sam. Alone.”
Brady looks to Sam.
“Whatever you need to say, Brady can hear it.”
“Okay,” Jess says, dragging the second syllable on to emphasize how stupid of an idea she thinks that is. “I want you to come see Dean.”
“Who’s Dean?” Brady asks.
Sam freezes up uncomfortably, feels a hot spike of shame go through him hearing Brady say the name Sam had selfishly never intended to share. Jess’s mouth drops open and she looks at Sam, more open confusion in her features than Sam’s ever seen.
“Maybe Jess is right. You should go back to bed.”
Brady shrugs and leaves the room and Jess explains what she has in mind, gives Sam instructions he should really know better than to follow.
~*~
Jess is reclining against the Impala when Sam gets to the motel the next day. She smiles and waves when she sees Sam but doesn’t move away from the car. Sam appreciates the excuse to get close enough to run his hand over the impeccable black surface; his stomach tightens in guilt and anticipation when he thinks of Dean lovingly waxing the hot metal.
Jess pulls him against her, kisses him deeply as he braces himself against their brother’s car.
“You ready?”
“Not really sure, Jess. I don’t know what I’m here for.”
“I bet you can imagine.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“It might be. Something’s gotta be done.”
“About?”
“Us. All three of us. Dean and I are…it’s been rough lately and as lovely as Brady was, you can’t sit here and pretend you haven’t missed us.”
Sam shakes his head, still not convinced it’s a good idea, but knowing himself too well to pretend he isn’t at least going to try. “Dean won’t go for it.”
She smiles sadly and smoothes Sam’s hair back. “Dean’s always made exceptions for you, Sam. Trust me; I’ve watched him for the last two years. We’ve tried everything. Sometimes we bring home boys to share. Boys who, well, they don’t look like you, but they pass. And sometimes, he fucks me from behind or I…” she blushes and looks down, “we both think of you when we do it, even if we don’t admit it out loud. My point is: none of it works. Dean might try to say no, but he’ll crack easy. And this isn’t like before; I’m not trying to bully him into it now. He needs it. I do too and even if you don’t, you want it. And you fucking owe it to us.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Maybe not. But you owe him. We owe him a lot. Aside from the fact that we both just want to make him happy, am I right?”
Sam nods.
“It’s the best thing you could do for him, unless you’ve decided to have a change of heart and come back. Which I know you haven’t. So.”
“So,” Sam says, taking his sister’s hand nervously and giving it a squeeze. “Together?”
“Like always.”
They walk the rest of the way to the room Jess and Dean are sharing hand-in-hand, but Jess breaks away when they reach the door.
“We should come in separately.”
Sam shrugs and watches as Jess slides her keycard into the door and the lock clicks open. Dean is sitting on one of the beds cleaning some guns and Sam freezes, eyes fixed on the forgotten familiarity of the scene. Dean is somehow even more gorgeous than Sam remembered.
“Did you get dinner?” he asks without lifting his eyes from the guns.
“Not exactly,” Jess says, biting her bottom lip.
Dean does look up then, his eyebrows drawn together, until his eyes catch on Sam.
“Sammy,” he says it almost like it’s a question, his voice dangerously close to cracking. His eyes are soft and miserable and Sam almost turns and flees when he realizes they’re even a little scared of him.
Sam’s thinks he sees Dean’s lips begin to tremble before the entire parade of emotions is silenced and Dean’s expression goes cold. His eyes flick over to Jess.
“Fuck you,” he says, setting the gun he’d been so lovingly putting back together aside.
“Dean-” she starts, but Dean’s accusing gaze doesn’t waver and she stops dead.
“Take him back. Don’t…I told you not to tell him we were…”
“Yeah, and I didn’t listen. You don’t call all the shots, Dean.”
Dean’s pointedly keeping his eyes on Jess, not letting them so much as dart in Sam’s direction, but Sam can see his muscles straining, like he has to fight every instinct to do it.
“I don’t want to see him,” Dean says. Sam would break down hearing his brother say it if there’d been a single shred of conviction in his words.
“I do.”
“So? You can do whatever the fuck you want, but you don’t bring him back here. Fuck, Jess. Fuck.”
“I’ll just go,” says Sam, defeated.
He’s turning for the door when Jess grabs his face and pulls him in for a kiss. Sam returns it without thinking about it, and when Jess continues to deepen it, tangles her fingers in his hair, Sam loses every reason why he should be leaving and pulls her hips in close instead.
When she breaks away, lips swollen, Sam sees a steely determination in her eyes and knows they haven’t lost the fight yet. She turns on Dean then and approaches the bed slowly. Dean’s mouth is slightly ajar, he’s watching Jess with a longing Sam used to think only he would ever experience. The familiar way she fits into his lap when she straddles him, his hands finding exactly the right spot to rest immediately; seeing them together like that sends hot waves through Sam’s entire body.
“I taste like him, Dean. Got him all over my mouth, just for you.”
Dean makes a pained sound, but he’s the one that surges up to catch Jess’s lips and he kisses her so hard it looks like it hurts. Sam steps forward to get a better look-he doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten until Jess pulls her lips away from Dean’s and turns to reach out to him.
Sam can’t help himself then, stumbles even closer blindly until his hand is enveloping hers. First she guides it up, rubs her face against it, closes her eyes and moans when Dean’s mouth closes on her neck.
Sam moves down and kisses her again, but it’s not long before she pulls out of the kiss and brings her hands to the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him off her. Dean’s eyes are dark when he draws away from her enough for Sam to see them. He turns and meets Sam’s gaze head on for the first time since Sam arrived and Sam leans forward to kiss him.
Dean flinches and turns his head away, it makes Sam suddenly begin to feel like what they’re doing is wrong. Jess must see the whole exchange, because she’s not having any of it. She stands, steps back from Dean’s lap, and tugs him up by one hand. When Dean’s standing, she grabs Sam and draws him back, then falls onto the bed, leaving Sam and Dean staring at each other.
“Help Dean out of his clothes,” she says. Sam looks to her, then back to Dean. He wants to do it so bad he can hardly control himself and Dean, to Sam’s surprise, licks his lips and nods.
Sam reaches out, lets his fingers graze Dean’s jacket cautiously, like he’s approaching an animal that might strike. Dean visibly relaxes as Sam eases him into it and before long, Sam has Dean’s jacket pooled on the floor around their feet.
Dean closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath when Sam’s hands find his fly, but he doesn’t move away. Jess moans from the bed and Sam and Dean both turn to look at her. Sam had forgotten how hot it used to get him to watch Jess touch herself, so seeing her on the bed now with her legs wide open and her hand buried in white satin panties is more than Sam can take. His dick twitches against his jeans-not the most comfortable thing in the world-and her lips turn up a little. Her eyes are fixed on Sam’s hands.
Dean’s jeans fall to the floor, his belt makes a metallic sound when it hits the wood and Sam turns to look at his sister’s chest as he pushes a hand under the cotton of Dean’s T shirt, moves up less with the intention of getting it off and more out of a desperate need to touch.
Unsettled by Sam’s contact, Dean pulls the shirt over his head in one quick motion and robs Sam of the excuse. Sam ignores the way his hand made Dean’s cock swell up in his boxers, knows he’s not allowed to push right now and remind Dean that he wants Sam to touch him like that.
Jess pulls her shirt off as well and Sam stops to stare at her. “Panties, too,” he says, wanting to see all of her, the way he’s about to see all of Dean. She nods, pulls her fingers out just long enough to tug them down her legs and toss them away. Sam does the same with Dean’s underwear and suddenly feels very hot and very overdressed in all his layers of clothing.
Dean finally looks at him warmly then, takes hold of Sam’s jacket and pulls at it, like he wants Sam to take it off himself. Sam almost challenges him, tells Dean to help him out if he wants it off so bad, but Jess shakes her head at him and Sam remembers this is no longer his birthright. He’s here on their charity.
Both Jess and Dean are looking at him now, like they expect him to know what comes next. Two years ago, Sam would gladly have had all the answers, but now he feels scared, like this is an audition for something and he might be tossed aside any moment. He goes with what he wants the most, it’s safest anyway.
“Fuck her,” he says to Dean. “I…I won’t even touch you. I won’t do anything you don’t want. Do the same thing you do when I’m not here. I just wanna finally see.”
Dean’s eyes somehow manage to get sadder and Sam swears Dean’s going to ask for something, but instead he nods and pulls the drawer by the nightstand open, taking a condom. Sam sees a bottle of lube sitting inside it but resists the urge to go grab it up, stays sitting at the end of the bed where he promised he would.
Dean’s ready to go in a matter of minutes and Jess is so warm and inviting on the bed, arms held open, cunt wet and stretched enough to take Dean. Sam sits on the bed next to where Jess is lying, doesn’t even bother to finish undressing or touch himself, just watches his big brother sink into her. Sam thinks it’s almost stupid how beautiful the two of them are, knows he doesn’t deserve how lucky he is.
Dean kisses her adoringly as he takes her, thrusts his hips in and they both moan together when he pulls back and rolls forward again. Sam’s forgotten a lot of the little things about being with Dean and Jess, but this rhythm is one he’ll always know by heart. He’s copied these thrusts into his hand, trying to hold on to what it was like to be with Dean, too many times to forget what it feels like to be where Jess is. Or to be over Dean, thrusting into him-Sam’s tries to push the thought away, but now that Dean is right there, he wants it so bad he can’t keep his promise not to interfere.
Both his siblings have their eyes on him as they fuck, so he sees how confused they are when he stands. He makes for the nightstand, for the lube he’d seen earlier and, reliable as ever, Jess reads his mind.
Her hands stroke down Dean then: slowly, torturing Sam. He knows how aware she is of his eyes following her movement down Dean’s body. When she reaches Dean’s ass, she pulls his cheeks apart, exposing Dean’s hole to Sam, and her legs unwrap from around his hips, giving Sam all the space he needs.
Sam makes a mess with the lube, too excited to measure how much he’s squeezing out, but Jess and Dean are too distracted to notice. Sam wonders if, in some other world, they would be doing this and Dean would be comfortable enough with him to make fun of things like that again. He shakes his head to keep focus and pushes his index finger into the tight ring of muscles.
Dean cries out in surprise then, fucks into Jess quickly a few times in response. Sam doesn’t spend much time trying to make it good for Dean before he pulls out and adds another finger. Dean buries himself in Jess then, not just his cock, but his face on her neck, and he whispers something as Sam fucks into him with his fingers.
Jess moans in response to whatever Dean says and then she lifts her head so she can see Sam over Dean’s body.
“Give him your cock, Sam. He’s begging for it.”
Sam speeds up, because he’s not sure Dean’s ready yet, but he doesn’t think he can wait much, either. He strips his clothes off unceremoniously and he gropes for a condom with one hand while grabbing up the lube and preparing to coat himself in it with the other. Sam leans into Dean, his lips graze his brother’s ear.
“Dean, you want that? Want me to fuck you?”
Dean nods but it’s not good enough. Sam suddenly needs to hear it, needs to be able to replay his brother’s cries when this is over and he’s back on the outside of what Jess and Dean have.
When Dean finally replies, it’s not anything like Sam was hoping for or expecting. It’s not anything like the Dean Sam fucked so many times before. It’s quiet, almost shy, and so desperate it hurts Sam. “Please, Sammy. Please.”
Sam kisses him fleetingly on the neck then, the chaste kind of kiss Sam always wanted to give Dean when he was a kid and Dean made multiple dinners just so Sam and Jess could have exactly what they wanted.
Sam moves down then, gets balls deep in Dean with one quick move. Dean gasps, pushes into Jess and back onto Sam and lets out a debauched sound that drives Sam back into him again and again. Jess makes little pleased noises every time Sam thrusts down and it’s like he’s fucking them both at once. Dean moves however Sam wants him to, and from the look on Jess’s face, she couldn’t be happier about it.
“God I can’t,” Dean says, but Sam knows it’s not because he regrets what they’re doing.
“Can’t what?” Jess asks, punctuating her question with cry that makes her throw her head back. Sam feels her hips move up into Dean.
“Can’t last. Not with. Sam. Fuck. Sam.”
Sam only makes it worse for Dean. He can’t help being satisfied by the painful strain in Dean’s voice. Sam wants to him feel this, finally, after all those years he left Sam pushing between them, caught in the agonizing bliss of having to be everything for both of them because Dean was too scared to share.
“I can’t last. Fuck, Jess, I’m sorry. I’m gonna come.”
Jess doesn’t seem too upset; she kisses him and smiles and lets Sam push Dean down so deep into her Sam’s surprised she can still take it.
“Don’t worry, Dean. I’m gonna finish her off for you. Like before. You remember that? You remember how much you liked to see me giving it to her?”
Dean really does shoot then, Sam feels him tightening around his dick as he empties himself into Jess and Jess’s hands stroke him through it, run down his spine soothingly. Sam pulls out of him with some reluctance and Dean rolls onto his side, breathing like he’s been underwater for an hour.
“Do it, do it. Fuck her, Sam.”
Sam is more than happy to oblige and Jess welcomes him in, his name on her lips as he follows Dean’s lead. He slides into her-so fucking wet from Dean’s cock-and fucks with little control over his actions. Jess moves with him anyway, manages to fit against him easy as ever. Sam can feel Dean’s eyes on him-it’s a lucky thing Jess is already close by the time Sam gets to her, because she’s just hardly riding out the end of her orgasm when Sam’s hits, sudden and so intense he nearly blacks out.
Sam rolls off to the side Dean isn’t on and Jess rests one hand on each of their heads. Dean looks up at her, then moves his hands in between her thighs. The thought of what Dean’s headed for makes Sam’s body feel light and he almost wants to bury his face in her, lick up everything they did to her-he and Dean together-even though she’s so fucked out it would probably do her more harm than good.
Dean’s fingers dip into her, feel around lazily for a brief moment before he pulls them out and brings them to his lips. He licks at them, then sucks them into his mouth; Dean’s lips didn’t really need help being obscene. He repeats the action when he’s done, but before he can get his mouth on his wet fingers, Jess snatches his hand and mimics his technique, swirls her tongue around his fingertips.
Dean watches her like a hawk, watches her relish it. His eyes meet Sam’s and he slowly moves his hand all the way down her body, tormenting Sam as he waits for his turn.
When he’s got Dean’s fingers in his mouth, Jess’s come dripping between them, Sam goes at them with the enthusiasm he once reserved for sucking Dean off. From the way Dean’s breath goes shallow, he knows that’s exactly what Sam’s trying to remind him of.
He pulls his fingers out then and Sam tries to stop him, scared Dean is going back on the carefully established sense of comfort between them. Dean doesn’t let up as easily as Sam was hoping, so he stops struggling to keep hold on Dean’s hand.
He watches a thin strand of saliva stretch from his lips to Dean’s hand and then Dean catches him off guard, chases it until his lips press firmly, confidently, and so fucking lovingly Sam literally almost cries, against Sam’s own.
Dean lets those wet fingers tangle in Sam’s hair. They kiss over their sister for so long that Sam loses track of everything that’s just happened, just lives on the thought that it’s Dean and Dean is kissing him and finally the three of them are exactly what they should be.
Jess is content to let them kiss, strokes her fingers in their hair and makes sure they stay close together until all three of them are worn out and Sam and Dean collapse into their sister’s embrace. Sam wraps an arm around Jess’s middle and she makes a soft content sound. Dean reaches his arm out as well, crosses it over Sam and wraps his hand around her other side. They drift off then, lying on the bed the wrong way, not fitting properly, but somehow more comfortable than Sam can ever remember being.
He doesn’t know how long they doze before they really start to wake up. As soon as he opens his eyes, he sees the deep green of his brother’s gaze fixed on him. Dean’s watching him, tender but sad again, and Sam realizes that this time the spell really is broken.
“Hey Sammy,” he says.
“Hey. She still sleeping?”
Dean’s lips turn up a little and he nods. “She’s as impossible to get out of bed as ever.”
Sam smiles at the memories that brings up. He was the only Winchester who ever knew how to wake Jess without pissing her off. He kisses up her chest now, not sexual as much as just wanting to feel her respond under him and she doesn’t disappoint.
“Morning, boys,” she says lazily.
“It’s 8:30 p.m., sleeping beauty.”
“Bah,” she retorts, attempting to go back to sleep.
Dean sits up then and shakes her. “You gotta get up, Jess. We have to take Sammy-we…he has to get back to. Whatever, we’ve got a hunt in Nevada tomorrow, so let’s go.”
“Won’t have to go anywhere if Sam stays.”
Sam freezes. For a moment he panics, thinks maybe this was the plan all along. He doesn’t think he can say no to both of them, not after what they just did. But Dean’s face goes furious and he gets out of bed and picks her clothes off the floor, tossing them at her as he starts to slide his jeans up his legs.
“Get dressed. Both of you.” Dean stomps out, leaving Sam and Jess to dress.
Jess sits up and rubs her eyes. “He wants you to, you know. He’s just trying to do what’ll make you happiest. But if that’s stay he’ll-”
“Jess, Dean’s right about this one. I’m going back.”
Jess looks down and shrugs. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
Sam cups her chin then, like she’d done at his table last night when she’d first shown up, and gives her his best attempt at a brave kiss.
They drive back to Sam’s apartment in comfortable silence, but there’s nothing for him to go return to when they pull up in front of the building. Nothing, that is, except fire and ashes, a crowd of people, and a fire truck full of men who won’t let Sam in.
Brady’s body isn’t found, but no one sees him again. The police assume there just isn’t enough of him left to find, Sam doesn’t know better than to believe it.
Dean doesn’t take them back to the motel they’d been at earlier, but with or without the reminder, Sam can’t help thinking about it. Brady died, he died, because Sam was too busy fucking around to protect him.
That night they sit at a diner on the way to some bullshit hunt, the patented Dean Winchester way to deal with trauma. His brother’s predictability, the incredibly unsatisfying yet genuine attempt at a distraction, is the only thing that even comes close to comforting Sam for days, maybe weeks.
Sam stares ahead, not hearing what anyone says, not seeing what happens around him-can’t even focus on the brother and sister he’d been longing to see more than anything for years. He stares at his food but he doesn’t eat, and when Jess runs her fingers through his hair and tells him it wasn’t his fault, it only makes Sam more sure that it was.
They get him back, Sam gets them back-under any other circumstances, that would be a blessing. The way it happens, there’s nothing to celebrate, no dreams to chase and hope may come true, nothing but three hunters: broken, battered, with nothing left to hold on to but each other.
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