Supernatural: Coupling in the Infinite
Title: Coupling in the Infinite
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean/Jess
Genre: Smut/Domestic/Flangst
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (including rimming), Underage Incest (Sam is 17), Random Pop Culture Reference (a la Dean Winchester), Slight Blasphemy (also a la Dean Winchester), Language, and Canon/Temporary Character Death
Word Count: 6,017
Author’s Note: Written for the spnthreesome exchange for cirramin. I wrote for two of your prompts: “green dress” and “beach” and tried to work in as many of your likes as I could, in particular: AUs (this isn’t so much an AU as it’s set in another universe within canon), first-times, porn WITH plot (or at least a little context!), explosive-messy-angry sex followed by slow-loving-schmoopy sex, rimming, intelligent female characters, love/hate relationships, time travel (kind of with the memories?), domestic fic. I really, really hope that you like this! Title is stolen from Victor Hugo because I have a gimmick and it clearly works for me. Blame monjinator for Sharktopus’s cameo. I couldn’t not write it after she said it, because Dean so would. And finally, a million and one schmoopy declarations of love to my beta goddess and co-mod, wutendeskind.
Summary: Sam and Dean go to Heaven. They’re not the only ones there.
Dean gets Sam back from Hell for 6 weeks, 3 days, and 19 hours before he has to watch his little brother die again.
It’s almost funny. Almost. If Sam dying could ever be funny to Dean, this would probably qualify.
They’re on a ridiculously inane hunt-a black dog, like every other black dog on the planet, like the dozens of black dogs Sam has killed since he was a kid. Sam just turns his head at a sound, it takes a second, and Dean doesn’t realize his brother is in danger at all until there are sharp white teeth digging into Sam’s flesh.
Dean has heard of things like this happening his entire life. John used to tuck them in with these stories to teach Sam and Dean a lesson. Even great hunters can make stupid mistakes. Even great hunters can die on the job. But not them, Dean always thought. Definitely not Sam, and definitely not while he was around to stop it.
He doesn’t kill himself. Not on purpose anyway. Sam is more important, though, and while he’s cradling his brother, trying to convince him to shake it off and not be dead anymore, Dean feels sharp pain ripping through his body and remembers, oh, right. He forgot to kill the thing. Dean smiles, glad he forgot. Sam would never forgive him for suicide, but this was just a bad hunt. Same thing that happened to Sam. Not his fault. But much, much better than trying to keep going.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam’s sitting at a table outside of Starbucks. He’s smiling wide and talking to someone, all Dean can see is blonde hair. Jess, Dean figures, and he’s proven right when she throws her head back and laughs.
“Don’t be a bitch,” Jess says.
Sam’s face falls a little.
“What’s wrong?” Jess asks. “I was just kidding.”
“No, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someon-” Sam looks up then and spots Dean. He scowls and stands, crossing to where Dean is waving awkwardly. Jess keeps talking to Sam after he rises, that’s what makes Dean realize where they are.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam asks once he’s reached Dean.
“Same thing as you,” Dean replies.
“Dammit, Dean! You asshole.” Sam grabs Dean and bunches his hands in Dean’s jacket. “You weren’t supposed to follow me here, man. You were supposed to go on with your life like a normal person.”
“I didn’t follow you, Sammy,” Dean says, reaching out to swat at the other man’s concerned grip. “But here I am.”
“You’re an idiot,” Sam says, but he sounds a little happy about it. “You’re such an idiot.”
“I guess we’re both idiots,” says Dean. “Dead idiots.”
Sam laughs. He puts an arm around Dean’s shoulder and urges him forward.
“Where’re we going?”
“Don’t know. We’ll figure it out, though.”
It’s not a long walk before they find themselves facing a door and Sam shrugs, pulling it open.
“Well this is nice,” he says once he’s taken a look inside.
Dean sticks his head in and laughs. He’s butt naked on a cheap motel bed and there’s no one under him, but Dean knows Sam is only missing because it’s his memory. When this happened, Sam was lying there, waiting for Dean to fuck him for the first time ever.
“Aww, Sammy. That’s really sweet.”
“Fuck off.”
“I think I’m about to, if I remember correctly.”
Sam makes a bitchy face and storms through the room, grabbing the handle to what should be their bathroom. He starts laughing hysterically as soon as he has the door open, though, and morbid curiosity makes Dean move to stand next to him.
The same scene is playing out in the room Sam’s just opened, except now it’s Sam writhing on the bed and there’s an almost irresistible pull to take his place on the mattress and play his part.
“I was a virgin, Dean,” Sam says, stupid smug grin in place. “What’s your excuse?”
The Sam on the bed moans and whispers Dean’s name and Dean gets a hot, guilty flush all the way down his body. Sam can’t be older than 17 and Dean doesn’t believe he let himself touch his little brother when he was this young.
He wants to hate himself for it, but the memory Sam turns his face towards where Dean is standing, and Dean sees the expression on his face for the first time ever. Dean’s lips were probably buried in Sam’s neck from the way Sam’s holding himself, and Dean never in a million years imagined that he was making his brother feel as good as it looks. Sam’s expression is happy and at peace and almost as perfect as Dean remembers feeling the first time they had sex.
He turns away, trying to move back to where Sam’s memory of the night was a minute ago.
“Where are you going?” Sam asks.
“View was better in the other room,” Dean replies, trying to keep his tone playful.
“You’re such an egotist,” Sam says, but he follows Dean.
The room has changed now, though, and Dean is bizarrely uncomfortable with what he sees when he turns.
It’s not the motel Dean first fucked Sam in all those years ago anymore, it’s a soft, almost homey room with a big, bright window and white sheets. It looks like a girl’s room, like a girl’s dorm to be exact, and Jess is lying in the bed naked, smiling lazily with a sheet wrapped around her and her head pillowed on what Dean is sure is supposed to be Sam. She’s resting on him like this is something she’s used to, and Dean just hardly catches a whisper of “I love you” before she drifts off to sleep.
“Jesus, Sam. Sorry,” he says, trying to remove himself from the moment.
Sam is a little pink, but he shakes his head. “Nothing to be shy about, I guess,” he says, but he ushers Dean out the door they’d come in from as quickly as he can. Dean is happy to follow with haste.
Unsurprisingly, the scenery outside the door is completely different now than it was when they went in.
Dean sighs. “This is starting to get pretty old.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a brat. Follow me.”
“You know where we’re going now, do you?”
“Sure,” Sam replies easily. “Figure the Impala’s bound to be around here somewhere.”
“Ah, right. We have to find the road.”
“Maybe we’ll be here long enough to get past the memory bullshit this time,” Sam says. “I don’t like the memory bullshit.”
He sends a sorry look back in the direction of the room he’d left his memory with Jess in and Dean feels guilty for taking him away from it.
“What do you think our Heaven’s gonna be like?” he asks, mostly to distract Sam. Dean really doesn’t care what Heaven will be, what matters is that it’s theirs.
“No idea,” Sam admits. “Eternity’s longest road trip?”
“I’m up for it,” Dean says with a laugh.
They round a corner and, sure enough, Dean’s car is sitting in a parking lot waiting for them. Dean quickens his pace, hoping Sam won’t get a chance to recognize the building, and wonders if there’s a way to just opt out of all his happy memories.
“Is this my dorm?” Sam asks as he slides into shotgun, eyes fixed on the building behind them. “This is freshman year.”
Dean starts the car, desperate to drive away from it. “Good for you, kiddo.”
“But this isn’t my memory, Dean.”
Dean coughs uncomfortably and then his phone goes off. He answers it, because that’s what he’s supposed to do. That’s what happens in the memory, and Dean forgets to stop himself, even if he wants nothing in the world less than for Sam to see what he’s about to.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean says into the receiver.
A Sam that sounds lifetimes younger than the one sitting next to him answers. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
“Thanks,” he says, avoiding the real Sam’s eyes.
“Are you having a good one?”
“Yeah, I’m up to my ears in chicks.”
“Oh,” Sam says, sounding more disappointed than Dean realized at the time. “I won’t hold you up, then. Just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you. And I miss you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“You should come visit me, Dean.”
Dean shakes his head, manages to bite back on the last part of the conversation, but Sam finishes it for him.
“I can’t. I’m on a hunt,” Sam says, recognizing the lie. Dean swallows a lump. “Why is this happy for you, Dean?”
“I don’t pick what shows up here,” he says, but sure enough, Sam exits the building a few moments after the phone call ends, surrounded by friends, laughing. He doesn’t look towards the Impala, won’t know Dean was watching him until they’re both sitting here dead.
Sam’s lips turn down and he leans across the car, pressing a small kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. Dean laughs and shoves him away.
“Dude, I’m over it, okay? This memory lane thing is crap, you said it yourself.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really mean it.”
“Blow me, Sam,” Dean answers, starting up his car.
They drive for a while, passing by scenes from their lives that Dean had almost forgotten. Somewhere along the road, there’s a field with fireworks, Lisa’s house, landmarks they’d passed so many times as kids they’d somehow become familiar. But most importantly, Sam is next to him the entire ride, hand on his thigh, warm and reassuring and humming along to the music blasting from the stereo without realizing, just like he sometimes did on long car rides when they were alive. Dean is pretty sure he can handle being dead, as long as it’s always like this.
Of course, it isn’t. They hit a dead end eventually. The road is eerily silent, even with Dean’s music playing, and they sit in the car waiting for something important to happen for a long time.
“Uh,” Sam finally says. “Should we get out? Maybe go in there?”
Sam indicates the only thing on the horizon, a small shed a few feet from the side of the road.
“This is creepy, Sam. I don’t like it.”
“We’re dead, Dean. What’s there to like?”
“Good point, I guess.”
They get out of the car, leaving it behind reluctantly, and Dean follows Sam into the hut, assuming hunter mode, even though logically there isn’t much point to it. It’s not like they can die here.
Inside, the room is familiar and worse than whatever Dean might have been expecting.
“Let’s leave,” Dean says as soon as he recognizes Sam’s kitchen.
Sam looks around, mouth open.
“Sammy, I think we should leave.”
Sam turns to face him, angry. “This is a good memory for you? My girlfriend died, Dean.”
“No, Sam. I’m standing right there, exactly where I was at the time. It’s not my memory.”
“It’s not mine, though,” Sam insists.
“Not everything is about you, you know,” a female voice says playfully. Jess turns from the memory, smiles at them. “It’s my memory.”
Sam’s forehead creases, but Dean gets a sick sinking of understanding in his stomach.
“There’s a backdoor down the hall, go to it. You still have a little walking to do before you get home.” Jess winks and points and Sam doesn’t take his eyes off her as he follows her directions. Dean stares at the floor, one foot mechanically stepping after the other behind Sam.
_______________________________________________________________
Outside of the door Jess indicated, there’s shoreline as far as Dean can see. Waves lap up on the beach and there’s an unnaturally bright sunset hanging up in the sky like a painting. Far off, there’s a bonfire and a figure sitting by it and behind that, a wooden beach house. It’s beautiful, the idyllic kind of scene Dean never dreamed about but could easily be happy with.
She’s there when they reach the fire, wearing a long green dress that’s too formal for a beach. She stops poking at the fire as they approach and stands to welcome them.
“’Bout time,” Jess says, lopsided smile on her pretty lips. Sam is still speechless, still looking like he’s too happy to know how to react and Dean…Dean’s never hated seeing his brother smile so much in his life.
“Jess,” he says. “How?”
“She’s your soul mate,” Dean answers for her, his heart sinking.
Sam turns to look at Dean, clearly confused. “Dean?”
“That’s how it works, right? Soul mates share.”
“That’s how it works,” Jess confirms.
Dean nods and does his best to look unconcerned. “Hey, great for you guys.”
Sam steps forward then, grabs Jess up in his arms and squeezes her so hard it has to hurt. She’s a blur of long yellow hair and bright green as Sam picks her up and twirls her and even Dean can’t help smiling at his brother’s ecstasy.
As soon as he’s done with the hug, he puts Jess down and moves to pull Dean in and Dean goes with it, even when Sam drags her back in and it’s all three of them pushed together with only Sam actually making an attempt for a group hug.
He pulls away and nods, one hand stroking through Jess’s hair and the other holding Dean’s, thumb stroking over Dean’s knuckles thoughtlessly, like Dean’s already forgotten.
“Heaven,” he says, letting go of both of them and sitting on one of the logs around the fire. “This has improved some from the last time.”
“You remember that?” Jess asks.
“We never made it here,” Sam says. “We never got to see you. I don’t think I would have left if I’d known.”
Jess laughs. “Christ, you died again?”
Sam smiles sheepishly. “How many times?”
“You only made it this far once,” Jess says. “Then Dean took you back.”
Dean wants there to be accusation in her tone, jealousy, some kind of sign she’s threatened by him at all and not entirely confident that Sam is hers now. There isn’t. She turns to Dean, takes his hand and squeezes it, like her support is somehow going to make this suck less for him.
Sam pulls Jess down into his lap. She lets go of Dean as she tumbles down and laughs, settling into place. Sam kisses her in the soft way Dean once thought was only for him. He wonders if this will just be temporary torture, if one day Cassie or Jo or Lisa will show up and he’ll live one door over from Sam and it’ll all be normal the way it couldn’t be on Earth.
He knows it won’t happen. His Heaven would be empty right now if Sam wasn’t his soul mate, he’d be waiting alone, not temporarily forcing himself on Sam and Jess. Dean doesn’t even want it to happen, not really. All he ever really wanted was Sam, which is why he’s here, watching his little brother like a lost puppy instead of off waiting for someone who would have meant less, but would have at least chosen him.
Sam can’t keep his hands off Jess and the next time Dean focuses on them, Sam’s got his fingers hidden up her skirt and his lips pressed to hers. He’s murmuring something about missed you and love and smiling against her. It’s beautiful, but Dean hates it.
Jess looks up at him for a few seconds and then pulls away from Sam, standing and shaking her head. “Follow me. I wanna show you something.”
Reluctantly, Sam rises and takes her hand as she lifts up the flowing skirt, bare feet walking on the sand.
“I built this,” she says, gesturing to encompass the entire beach. “Took me a long time. It’s almost perfect now, but I imagine it’ll be changing a lot pretty soon. It’ll be all of ours, not just mine.”
She turns around and smiles at Dean. “I already learned how to help fix the car. I mean, it won’t actually break down unless we want it to, but I figured it was part of the experience.”
Behind her back, Dean scowls. It’s the nicest she could be, especially considering Dean is crashing her party, and Dean really doesn’t want her being nice right now.
“Made the dress myself, too,” she says, leaning in to whisper to Sam. “Knew you’d like it.”
She watches Sam squeeze her hand where he’s holding it and thinks he might spend the rest of eternity perpetually sick.
They arrive at the wooden stairs to the house and Jess takes the first step, turning to address them, almost nervous.
“I…really hope you guys like the house. We don’t have to live here forever or anything, but I worked hard on it. Tried to make it good for all three of us.” She laughs and looks at Sam. “God, can you believe it? I spent the last however many years homemaking.”
Sam frowns. “You hate that stuff. You shouldn’t have been doing that here.”
Jess grins. “No, I wanted to. You should be happy now.”
She mounts the rest of the steps quickly then, childlike excitement as she opens the door and ushers them in. She gives them a tour of the house, careful explanations of every detail. It really is perfect-not just for Sam, not for her, but for Dean, too. Dean has no clue how she knows how to make him happy so well, but he wishes she didn’t. Much easier to be excluded if everything isn’t built to make him feel welcome.
“My favorite part is upstairs,” she says, leaning over the railing.
Sam surges up to kiss her again, then reaches back for Dean’s hand. Dean withholds and it’s only then that Sam turns and seems to realize he’s been off at all. Dean doesn’t want to ruin this for him, so he takes a deep breath, slips his hand into Sam’s, and pastes on a giant, fake smile. Sam is far-gone enough in his own bliss to buy it, which breaks Dean’s heart in more places than he wants to admit.
There’s only one room upstairs, one door in the hallway that Jess opens nervously. Inside, the room is enormous, but there’s almost nothing furnishing it. Just the bed. One bed, reaching almost all the way from one wall to the opposite.
“Room for three,” Jess says softly as Sam and Dean take it in.
Great, Dean thinks. Just how he wants to spend eternity. Watching Sam with someone else, trying to ignore whatever’s going on, pretending they’re just normal brothers and this is fine with him.
Or maybe it won’t be like that at all. Sam won’t ignore Dean, not all the time. He can have them both and Dean knows he’s got no hope of pushing Sam away, not for his dignity and some selfish jealousy. Sam saved the world, he shouldn’t have to choose. It just sucks for Dean and Jess that they’ll only get the person they love half the time.
Sam moves to one side of the bed, draws Jess in and slowly begins to undo the dress, lips pressing to her skin as more of it begins to show. The green fabric slips from her shoulders elegantly and pools at their feet and she turns to kiss Sam, one arm wrapping around his neck.
She’s got nothing underneath and Dean thinks he’s supposed to look away for modesty’s sake-she’s Sam’s girl for crying out loud, Dean doesn’t even know how she’d react to his and Sam’s relationship, if she doesn’t already know-but he keeps his eyes on them, anyway. She’s perfect, probably looks better than any of the girls Dean had thought highly of himself for getting while he was alive, and he can’t help how hot he gets looking at them.
Sam runs a hand down the length of her body, drawing Dean’s eyes as he moves, until his fingers slowly begin to work into her. She smiles, lets her head fall back, and moans when Sam bends down to lick and suck at her breast. The rhythm between them, the way Sam touches her, is all familiar, intimate, and it makes Dean hurt to think that Sam memorized this, loved this, and had to live without it for so long.
“Dean,” she moans when her head lifts back up and her eyes open slowly, dark with lust but meeting his with enough controlled thought to make Dean turn away.
“Sorry,” he says, wiping a hand over his mouth. He should really go. Should really have gone before this started. There’s a couch downstairs with his name on it.
“Yeah,” Sam says, sitting up. “Yeah. Wanna see that.”
He crawls up the bed and reaches for Dean’s hand, turning him around until they’re face to face. Sam’s messy fingers curl in Dean’s clothes and he moves up to kiss him. He begins to work at Dean’s buttons and Dean trembles, wants it so bad, will take anything Sam remembers to give him.
He doesn’t realize how fast Sam is working until his jeans fall to the floor and Sam moves down to remove his boxers, pausing to nuzzle his face into Dean’s crotch. Dean runs a hand over the top of Sam’s head as Sam tugs down the last thing standing between Dean and being completely naked in front of Sam and this girl he hardly knows. It’s the first time that’s ever made him uncomfortable. He feels like he should know her, he feels like he shouldn’t be doing this in front of her, too.
Dean looks up to Jess. She’s reclining against the back of the bed, fully exposed, an unreadable expression on her face. Sam takes back his attention, licks along Dean’s shaft and takes him into his mouth while Dean’s not even paying attention.
Dean gasps and thrusts into the sudden warmth, and then Sam steals it away from him. He looks up at Dean, still holding Dean’s cock close enough to brush against his cheek, and pleads for Dean to fuck Jess, as if Dean could ever say no to his little brother looking like that.
Dean doesn’t think he says yes, but somehow he ends up climbing into the bed, crawling up it, until he’s hovering over Jess, anyway. She smiles and tries to kiss him, but Dean takes the coward’s route, buries his face in her neck instead.
It’s Sam’s hand that urges Dean down, but Jess grabs his shoulder and lifts herself up as soon as he’s inside of her, begging for more. Dean snaps then, gives her exactly what she asks for, but in an ugly way he knows he’ll be ashamed of as soon as it’s finished. He fucks her, hard and dirty, the way he used to fuck the girls he met in bars, girls he picked up and said goodbye to within an hour. He fucks her hoping it’ll hurt, because she stole something that was his, and he can’t hate or even blame her for it.
She moans, though, cries out that it’s good, and Dean knows it is. This is something Dean is good at, has always been good at; Jess is not the first girl to get used like this and say thank you in the morning.
Maybe Sam gets it, though. He begins to stroke his hands down Dean’s back, trying to soothe him. It doesn’t work, it just makes Dean more jealous, makes Dean want Sam to be his more and he has to wonder what it is he’s doing right now, why Sam and Jess would let him have this when he’ll be cast out of sight as soon as she’s done riding her orgasm and thinking they’d given him his due.
As usual, Sam refuses to lose a fight, and when his touches don’t sufficiently calm Dean, he moves on to trying to distract him. Dean’s thrusts stutter when he feels Sam’s tongue moving down his spine, and he pauses.
“Slow down, Dean,” Sam commands. “Slow down so I can taste you.”
Dean is adequately chastised, has to obey whether he likes it or not. Sam knows how to use that tongue too well, has too much experience making Dean’s brain shut down like this, and Dean can’t do anything that’ll get in the way of Sam licking him. His thrusts take much longer now, are only really powerful when it feels too good for Dean to control himself. Jess helps a little the rest of the time, rides up on Dean when Dean can’t think to do the fucking himself.
Sam’s tongue is swirling around Dean’s hole with debauched noises of satisfaction when Jess begins to shout, her tight cunt squeezing Dean’s cock as she comes. Dean feels it happening, hears the wet sounds as his dick continues to move into her, and the slip-and-slide of his skin on hers becomes too much to stand.
“Sammy. I’m gonna-”
Sam doesn’t answer, doesn’t stop, licks deep into Dean like he’s being rewarded for something. Dean falls into Jess one last time, filling her with his come. She holds him close as his aftershocks make him move inside of her with two or three tiny thrusts.
Sam moves back when Dean’s done and watches Dean pull out of his girlfriend, rolling onto his back next to her. He’s kneeling over them, between them, with his hand stroking his dick urgently.
“Not gonna last long,” he says, looking at Jess. “But I gotta feel it.”
She nods and welcomes Sam in as he goes balls deep inside of her, Dean’s jizz making the entry easy, even for someone as big as Sam. He’s hardly thrusting before his come joins the rest of theirs and he pulls out of her with a hot groan.
Sam drops between them so heavy the bed bounces and Jess laughs. Sam snakes one arm around each of them and murmurs something about being tired before dropping off to sleep. It’s been a long day, Dean should be tired, too, but he stays awake for awhile and wakes up more than once during the night.
He gives up after a few hours, lifts his head from Sam’s chest and slowly repositions Sam’s arm. He thinks about moving it so it’s holding Jess like the one on Sam’s left, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
He sits up at the edge of the bed watching them for a few minutes, watches how happy and easy this is for them, and knows he’s the one that shouldn’t be a part of it, almost comes to peace with it. He leans over and brushes his hand over his brother’s hair, kisses Sam softly one last time, and rises from the bed to leave the lovers alone.
_______________________________________________________________
A tiny hand finds Dean’s shoulder and pulls him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here or if he really fell asleep, but Jess is looking down at him from the edge of the couch, wearing a white nightdress that makes Dean think of awful things.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” she says gently.
Dean doesn’t know how to respond, but she picks it up for him.
“I’ve spent so long, I don’t know how long, watching you. I think I was so excited when you guys got here that I couldn’t stop to think about how you would feel. I forgot that you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“About us.”
“You and Sam? I know all about you and Sam.”
“No, about all three of us.”
“What’s there to know?”
“I’m not here for Sam, I’m here for both of you. And you’re both here for me, and,” Jess reaches out to stroke Dean with a tenderness that doesn’t make much sense after the way he’s been acting, “we’re here for you, Dean.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Maybe not. Not yet. But that’s how it works. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t both…I was confused, too, when I first got here, but I get it now. You don’t know me, but I know everything about you. Not just since I died, time doesn’t work like that here. Time doesn’t exist. I’ve watched and lived every single moment of your lives. I was there the day you first saw Sam, the day you first saved him, the day you first kissed him. I know things about him you don’t know, things about you he doesn’t know. And I understand those things, even when they were terrible. I know why you both did them and why you can’t ever share them with each other. Dean, I love both of you. So when you came here, all I could think was that finally I would have this and I forgot that you might not see it that way yet. I’m not stealing Sam from you; no one could ever do that. I’m just claiming what’s mine, and not just from him.”
“Still doesn’t make any goddamn sense to me,” Dean says stubbornly.
Jess laughs. “That’s ok. It will. You’ll love me eventually,” she bites her lip, “you have to love me one day.”
Dean can’t believe the pleading in her expression, doesn’t think anyone’s ever been scared he wouldn’t care about them before, doesn’t understand why someone this beautiful, someone who has Sam’s love, would bother to even notice if he loves them or not. It’s kind of nice to be on the opposite end of it for once, but Dean knows too well how scary it is, so he leans forward to kiss her, warm and reassuring and she takes his hand and relaxes back into the couch. Dean follows her, sinks into her for the second time that night.
He does it right this time, moves into Jess tenderly and gives her all the reverence Sam has since Dean got him back from Stanford. They’re back in the bed by the time Sam wakes up the next morning, and if Sam finds it unusual that he’s gone from being in the middle to being pushed to the left while Dean and Jess sleep wrapped up in each other, he doesn’t say anything.
He kisses Dean’s neck when he catches Dean stroking his fingers through Jess’s hair and whispers, “I always knew you’d like her. I didn’t realize it was like this, but I knew the first time I met her that you’d hit it off. I think that’s one of the first things I loved about her.”
“Don’t be a girl, Sam,” Dean replies.
_______________________________________________________________
Time really doesn’t make any logical sense in Heaven. Jess has learned all the rules in her time here and assures them that there’s only one thing about time that really matters: when you died. You can live a thousand years in Heaven, watch everything that’s happened since the first day God rolled his lazy ass out of bed and decided to make something happen, all the things that will happen before Death reaps him. It doesn’t matter. If you ever go back, you get sent back to that one unspectacular moment when your heart stopped pumping.
They don’t keep a record of how long they’re there for that reason, but Dean would put it at a few months. Long enough to get used to it, for the irregularities to become routine. Jess teaches them how to build and their Heaven comes to life around them, shaping everything that ever gave them joy. Dean had been wrong about his original assessment of the place. No one gets bored in Heaven.
“Dean,” Sam says with his patented scowl on as he slams the door.
Dean assumes an innocent air. “Yes?”
“Why are the roses in our garden singing AC/DC’s greatest hits?”
“I don’t know. Wasn’t me.”
“And the unicorns that have my name spray painted on their sides?”
“Nice of them to let everyone know who they belong to.”
“I suppose the half-shark, half-octopus trying to attack them isn’t yours, either?”
“Hah, no, Sharktopus is all me.”
“Who even thinks of these things?”
“It was the last movie I watched before we, you know.” Dean imitates himself biting it and Jess, who’s reclining against him reading, laughs. “Does it look badass? I haven’t seen it since I decided we needed one.”
“Why do we need a shark monster eating the unicorns we also don’t need again?”
“Well we oughta have something to hunt,” Dean says, smirking as Sam rolls his eyes.
“Please go kill it. It’s ruining all of our hard work to make this place livable.”
“Fine, fine.”
“And make the flowers shut up.”
“Flowers stay,” Jess says, winking at Dean. “Majority rules.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, I am,” Jess says proudly. “Flowers really weren’t Dean’s idea.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Unicorns weren’t mine either,” Dean says, kissing Jess’s neck. “Totally Sammy’s. He always wanted unicorns.”
“Dean, I did not!”
“Tell it to the court, Sam.”
Jess sits up to say something when there’s a knock at the door. Sam goes to get it and whoever comes in is not someone Dean recognizes.
“Three’s a party,” Jess says. “Four soul mates is just getting excessive.”
“How are we going to afford all this laundry?” Dean asks.
“I guess we’ll have to feed him to Sharktopus,” Jess answers solemnly.
“Are you Sam and Dean Winchester?” the man asks blandly.
Dean identifies the speech pattern immediately and groans. “I thought we were done dealing with angels.”
“I must relay to you a matter of most serious consequence.”
“I’m gonna take a nap,” Dean replies. Even Sam snickers.
The angel blinks at them until Jess gets annoyed. “Yeah, what?”
“Our Heavenly Father has determined that the time for the Winchester brothers to pass has not yet come. They must return to Earth for a final mission.”
“What? Hell no!” Dean says.
“Failure to comply will result in a permanent banishment from Heaven.”
Sam, Dean, and Jess all fall silent and look around at each other.
“Why?” Jess asks the angel, her voice shaking a little.
“There are angels working against Heaven, they wish to begin the Apocalypse again. Only the vessels can stop it.”
“I’m no one’s vessel,” Sam snaps. “Not anymore. We fixed that. We earned the right, Christ, it’s not our fault if you guys can’t keep your own in line.”
Dean bites his lip. “Can she come back with us?”
“Dean, I don’t want to go ba-”
“You think I do? People are gonna get hurt if we don’t, Sammy. We can’t just…”
Sam takes mercy on him, puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I know.”
Dean turns back to the angel. “You’re sending us all back.”
“I do not have authority to return her. You will be reunited when your work is finished and your lives have, once again, been terminated.”
“But you have to do it,” Dean practically begs.
“No, that’s bullshit. This is bullshit,” Sam says, putting an arm around Dean’s shoulder.
The angel doesn’t even flinch. “We must return quickly. Say your goodbyes.”
“Whose idea was it to feed him to the shark?” Sam asks. “Because I like it now.”
Jess laughs, then takes their hands. “It’s okay, guys. You should go. I’ll still be here when…I’m happy for you. You get to live a little more. That’s great. And I’ll be with you even if I’m not, you know, with you.”
“But we’ll forget,” Dean says. “I’ll forget you.”
Jess nods sadly. “I’ll remember.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Dean, leave it,” she says. “Please, just go.”
Sam steps forward, kisses her forehead, and nods at the angel. Dean’s lips are still on Jess’s when he feels himself beginning to fade from Heaven. His last bittersweet thought is that they’ll be back, and Dean almost laughs at the fact that the only good news he can think of is that he’ll be dead eventually.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean/Jess
Genre: Smut/Domestic/Flangst
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (including rimming), Underage Incest (Sam is 17), Random Pop Culture Reference (a la Dean Winchester), Slight Blasphemy (also a la Dean Winchester), Language, and Canon/Temporary Character Death
Word Count: 6,017
Author’s Note: Written for the spnthreesome exchange for cirramin. I wrote for two of your prompts: “green dress” and “beach” and tried to work in as many of your likes as I could, in particular: AUs (this isn’t so much an AU as it’s set in another universe within canon), first-times, porn WITH plot (or at least a little context!), explosive-messy-angry sex followed by slow-loving-schmoopy sex, rimming, intelligent female characters, love/hate relationships, time travel (kind of with the memories?), domestic fic. I really, really hope that you like this! Title is stolen from Victor Hugo because I have a gimmick and it clearly works for me. Blame monjinator for Sharktopus’s cameo. I couldn’t not write it after she said it, because Dean so would. And finally, a million and one schmoopy declarations of love to my beta goddess and co-mod, wutendeskind.
Summary: Sam and Dean go to Heaven. They’re not the only ones there.
Dean gets Sam back from Hell for 6 weeks, 3 days, and 19 hours before he has to watch his little brother die again.
It’s almost funny. Almost. If Sam dying could ever be funny to Dean, this would probably qualify.
They’re on a ridiculously inane hunt-a black dog, like every other black dog on the planet, like the dozens of black dogs Sam has killed since he was a kid. Sam just turns his head at a sound, it takes a second, and Dean doesn’t realize his brother is in danger at all until there are sharp white teeth digging into Sam’s flesh.
Dean has heard of things like this happening his entire life. John used to tuck them in with these stories to teach Sam and Dean a lesson. Even great hunters can make stupid mistakes. Even great hunters can die on the job. But not them, Dean always thought. Definitely not Sam, and definitely not while he was around to stop it.
He doesn’t kill himself. Not on purpose anyway. Sam is more important, though, and while he’s cradling his brother, trying to convince him to shake it off and not be dead anymore, Dean feels sharp pain ripping through his body and remembers, oh, right. He forgot to kill the thing. Dean smiles, glad he forgot. Sam would never forgive him for suicide, but this was just a bad hunt. Same thing that happened to Sam. Not his fault. But much, much better than trying to keep going.
_______________________________________________________________
Sam’s sitting at a table outside of Starbucks. He’s smiling wide and talking to someone, all Dean can see is blonde hair. Jess, Dean figures, and he’s proven right when she throws her head back and laughs.
“Don’t be a bitch,” Jess says.
Sam’s face falls a little.
“What’s wrong?” Jess asks. “I was just kidding.”
“No, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someon-” Sam looks up then and spots Dean. He scowls and stands, crossing to where Dean is waving awkwardly. Jess keeps talking to Sam after he rises, that’s what makes Dean realize where they are.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam asks once he’s reached Dean.
“Same thing as you,” Dean replies.
“Dammit, Dean! You asshole.” Sam grabs Dean and bunches his hands in Dean’s jacket. “You weren’t supposed to follow me here, man. You were supposed to go on with your life like a normal person.”
“I didn’t follow you, Sammy,” Dean says, reaching out to swat at the other man’s concerned grip. “But here I am.”
“You’re an idiot,” Sam says, but he sounds a little happy about it. “You’re such an idiot.”
“I guess we’re both idiots,” says Dean. “Dead idiots.”
Sam laughs. He puts an arm around Dean’s shoulder and urges him forward.
“Where’re we going?”
“Don’t know. We’ll figure it out, though.”
It’s not a long walk before they find themselves facing a door and Sam shrugs, pulling it open.
“Well this is nice,” he says once he’s taken a look inside.
Dean sticks his head in and laughs. He’s butt naked on a cheap motel bed and there’s no one under him, but Dean knows Sam is only missing because it’s his memory. When this happened, Sam was lying there, waiting for Dean to fuck him for the first time ever.
“Aww, Sammy. That’s really sweet.”
“Fuck off.”
“I think I’m about to, if I remember correctly.”
Sam makes a bitchy face and storms through the room, grabbing the handle to what should be their bathroom. He starts laughing hysterically as soon as he has the door open, though, and morbid curiosity makes Dean move to stand next to him.
The same scene is playing out in the room Sam’s just opened, except now it’s Sam writhing on the bed and there’s an almost irresistible pull to take his place on the mattress and play his part.
“I was a virgin, Dean,” Sam says, stupid smug grin in place. “What’s your excuse?”
The Sam on the bed moans and whispers Dean’s name and Dean gets a hot, guilty flush all the way down his body. Sam can’t be older than 17 and Dean doesn’t believe he let himself touch his little brother when he was this young.
He wants to hate himself for it, but the memory Sam turns his face towards where Dean is standing, and Dean sees the expression on his face for the first time ever. Dean’s lips were probably buried in Sam’s neck from the way Sam’s holding himself, and Dean never in a million years imagined that he was making his brother feel as good as it looks. Sam’s expression is happy and at peace and almost as perfect as Dean remembers feeling the first time they had sex.
He turns away, trying to move back to where Sam’s memory of the night was a minute ago.
“Where are you going?” Sam asks.
“View was better in the other room,” Dean replies, trying to keep his tone playful.
“You’re such an egotist,” Sam says, but he follows Dean.
The room has changed now, though, and Dean is bizarrely uncomfortable with what he sees when he turns.
It’s not the motel Dean first fucked Sam in all those years ago anymore, it’s a soft, almost homey room with a big, bright window and white sheets. It looks like a girl’s room, like a girl’s dorm to be exact, and Jess is lying in the bed naked, smiling lazily with a sheet wrapped around her and her head pillowed on what Dean is sure is supposed to be Sam. She’s resting on him like this is something she’s used to, and Dean just hardly catches a whisper of “I love you” before she drifts off to sleep.
“Jesus, Sam. Sorry,” he says, trying to remove himself from the moment.
Sam is a little pink, but he shakes his head. “Nothing to be shy about, I guess,” he says, but he ushers Dean out the door they’d come in from as quickly as he can. Dean is happy to follow with haste.
Unsurprisingly, the scenery outside the door is completely different now than it was when they went in.
Dean sighs. “This is starting to get pretty old.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a brat. Follow me.”
“You know where we’re going now, do you?”
“Sure,” Sam replies easily. “Figure the Impala’s bound to be around here somewhere.”
“Ah, right. We have to find the road.”
“Maybe we’ll be here long enough to get past the memory bullshit this time,” Sam says. “I don’t like the memory bullshit.”
He sends a sorry look back in the direction of the room he’d left his memory with Jess in and Dean feels guilty for taking him away from it.
“What do you think our Heaven’s gonna be like?” he asks, mostly to distract Sam. Dean really doesn’t care what Heaven will be, what matters is that it’s theirs.
“No idea,” Sam admits. “Eternity’s longest road trip?”
“I’m up for it,” Dean says with a laugh.
They round a corner and, sure enough, Dean’s car is sitting in a parking lot waiting for them. Dean quickens his pace, hoping Sam won’t get a chance to recognize the building, and wonders if there’s a way to just opt out of all his happy memories.
“Is this my dorm?” Sam asks as he slides into shotgun, eyes fixed on the building behind them. “This is freshman year.”
Dean starts the car, desperate to drive away from it. “Good for you, kiddo.”
“But this isn’t my memory, Dean.”
Dean coughs uncomfortably and then his phone goes off. He answers it, because that’s what he’s supposed to do. That’s what happens in the memory, and Dean forgets to stop himself, even if he wants nothing in the world less than for Sam to see what he’s about to.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean says into the receiver.
A Sam that sounds lifetimes younger than the one sitting next to him answers. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
“Thanks,” he says, avoiding the real Sam’s eyes.
“Are you having a good one?”
“Yeah, I’m up to my ears in chicks.”
“Oh,” Sam says, sounding more disappointed than Dean realized at the time. “I won’t hold you up, then. Just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you. And I miss you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“You should come visit me, Dean.”
Dean shakes his head, manages to bite back on the last part of the conversation, but Sam finishes it for him.
“I can’t. I’m on a hunt,” Sam says, recognizing the lie. Dean swallows a lump. “Why is this happy for you, Dean?”
“I don’t pick what shows up here,” he says, but sure enough, Sam exits the building a few moments after the phone call ends, surrounded by friends, laughing. He doesn’t look towards the Impala, won’t know Dean was watching him until they’re both sitting here dead.
Sam’s lips turn down and he leans across the car, pressing a small kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. Dean laughs and shoves him away.
“Dude, I’m over it, okay? This memory lane thing is crap, you said it yourself.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really mean it.”
“Blow me, Sam,” Dean answers, starting up his car.
They drive for a while, passing by scenes from their lives that Dean had almost forgotten. Somewhere along the road, there’s a field with fireworks, Lisa’s house, landmarks they’d passed so many times as kids they’d somehow become familiar. But most importantly, Sam is next to him the entire ride, hand on his thigh, warm and reassuring and humming along to the music blasting from the stereo without realizing, just like he sometimes did on long car rides when they were alive. Dean is pretty sure he can handle being dead, as long as it’s always like this.
Of course, it isn’t. They hit a dead end eventually. The road is eerily silent, even with Dean’s music playing, and they sit in the car waiting for something important to happen for a long time.
“Uh,” Sam finally says. “Should we get out? Maybe go in there?”
Sam indicates the only thing on the horizon, a small shed a few feet from the side of the road.
“This is creepy, Sam. I don’t like it.”
“We’re dead, Dean. What’s there to like?”
“Good point, I guess.”
They get out of the car, leaving it behind reluctantly, and Dean follows Sam into the hut, assuming hunter mode, even though logically there isn’t much point to it. It’s not like they can die here.
Inside, the room is familiar and worse than whatever Dean might have been expecting.
“Let’s leave,” Dean says as soon as he recognizes Sam’s kitchen.
Sam looks around, mouth open.
“Sammy, I think we should leave.”
Sam turns to face him, angry. “This is a good memory for you? My girlfriend died, Dean.”
“No, Sam. I’m standing right there, exactly where I was at the time. It’s not my memory.”
“It’s not mine, though,” Sam insists.
“Not everything is about you, you know,” a female voice says playfully. Jess turns from the memory, smiles at them. “It’s my memory.”
Sam’s forehead creases, but Dean gets a sick sinking of understanding in his stomach.
“There’s a backdoor down the hall, go to it. You still have a little walking to do before you get home.” Jess winks and points and Sam doesn’t take his eyes off her as he follows her directions. Dean stares at the floor, one foot mechanically stepping after the other behind Sam.
_______________________________________________________________
Outside of the door Jess indicated, there’s shoreline as far as Dean can see. Waves lap up on the beach and there’s an unnaturally bright sunset hanging up in the sky like a painting. Far off, there’s a bonfire and a figure sitting by it and behind that, a wooden beach house. It’s beautiful, the idyllic kind of scene Dean never dreamed about but could easily be happy with.
She’s there when they reach the fire, wearing a long green dress that’s too formal for a beach. She stops poking at the fire as they approach and stands to welcome them.
“’Bout time,” Jess says, lopsided smile on her pretty lips. Sam is still speechless, still looking like he’s too happy to know how to react and Dean…Dean’s never hated seeing his brother smile so much in his life.
“Jess,” he says. “How?”
“She’s your soul mate,” Dean answers for her, his heart sinking.
Sam turns to look at Dean, clearly confused. “Dean?”
“That’s how it works, right? Soul mates share.”
“That’s how it works,” Jess confirms.
Dean nods and does his best to look unconcerned. “Hey, great for you guys.”
Sam steps forward then, grabs Jess up in his arms and squeezes her so hard it has to hurt. She’s a blur of long yellow hair and bright green as Sam picks her up and twirls her and even Dean can’t help smiling at his brother’s ecstasy.
As soon as he’s done with the hug, he puts Jess down and moves to pull Dean in and Dean goes with it, even when Sam drags her back in and it’s all three of them pushed together with only Sam actually making an attempt for a group hug.
He pulls away and nods, one hand stroking through Jess’s hair and the other holding Dean’s, thumb stroking over Dean’s knuckles thoughtlessly, like Dean’s already forgotten.
“Heaven,” he says, letting go of both of them and sitting on one of the logs around the fire. “This has improved some from the last time.”
“You remember that?” Jess asks.
“We never made it here,” Sam says. “We never got to see you. I don’t think I would have left if I’d known.”
Jess laughs. “Christ, you died again?”
Sam smiles sheepishly. “How many times?”
“You only made it this far once,” Jess says. “Then Dean took you back.”
Dean wants there to be accusation in her tone, jealousy, some kind of sign she’s threatened by him at all and not entirely confident that Sam is hers now. There isn’t. She turns to Dean, takes his hand and squeezes it, like her support is somehow going to make this suck less for him.
Sam pulls Jess down into his lap. She lets go of Dean as she tumbles down and laughs, settling into place. Sam kisses her in the soft way Dean once thought was only for him. He wonders if this will just be temporary torture, if one day Cassie or Jo or Lisa will show up and he’ll live one door over from Sam and it’ll all be normal the way it couldn’t be on Earth.
He knows it won’t happen. His Heaven would be empty right now if Sam wasn’t his soul mate, he’d be waiting alone, not temporarily forcing himself on Sam and Jess. Dean doesn’t even want it to happen, not really. All he ever really wanted was Sam, which is why he’s here, watching his little brother like a lost puppy instead of off waiting for someone who would have meant less, but would have at least chosen him.
Sam can’t keep his hands off Jess and the next time Dean focuses on them, Sam’s got his fingers hidden up her skirt and his lips pressed to hers. He’s murmuring something about missed you and love and smiling against her. It’s beautiful, but Dean hates it.
Jess looks up at him for a few seconds and then pulls away from Sam, standing and shaking her head. “Follow me. I wanna show you something.”
Reluctantly, Sam rises and takes her hand as she lifts up the flowing skirt, bare feet walking on the sand.
“I built this,” she says, gesturing to encompass the entire beach. “Took me a long time. It’s almost perfect now, but I imagine it’ll be changing a lot pretty soon. It’ll be all of ours, not just mine.”
She turns around and smiles at Dean. “I already learned how to help fix the car. I mean, it won’t actually break down unless we want it to, but I figured it was part of the experience.”
Behind her back, Dean scowls. It’s the nicest she could be, especially considering Dean is crashing her party, and Dean really doesn’t want her being nice right now.
“Made the dress myself, too,” she says, leaning in to whisper to Sam. “Knew you’d like it.”
She watches Sam squeeze her hand where he’s holding it and thinks he might spend the rest of eternity perpetually sick.
They arrive at the wooden stairs to the house and Jess takes the first step, turning to address them, almost nervous.
“I…really hope you guys like the house. We don’t have to live here forever or anything, but I worked hard on it. Tried to make it good for all three of us.” She laughs and looks at Sam. “God, can you believe it? I spent the last however many years homemaking.”
Sam frowns. “You hate that stuff. You shouldn’t have been doing that here.”
Jess grins. “No, I wanted to. You should be happy now.”
She mounts the rest of the steps quickly then, childlike excitement as she opens the door and ushers them in. She gives them a tour of the house, careful explanations of every detail. It really is perfect-not just for Sam, not for her, but for Dean, too. Dean has no clue how she knows how to make him happy so well, but he wishes she didn’t. Much easier to be excluded if everything isn’t built to make him feel welcome.
“My favorite part is upstairs,” she says, leaning over the railing.
Sam surges up to kiss her again, then reaches back for Dean’s hand. Dean withholds and it’s only then that Sam turns and seems to realize he’s been off at all. Dean doesn’t want to ruin this for him, so he takes a deep breath, slips his hand into Sam’s, and pastes on a giant, fake smile. Sam is far-gone enough in his own bliss to buy it, which breaks Dean’s heart in more places than he wants to admit.
There’s only one room upstairs, one door in the hallway that Jess opens nervously. Inside, the room is enormous, but there’s almost nothing furnishing it. Just the bed. One bed, reaching almost all the way from one wall to the opposite.
“Room for three,” Jess says softly as Sam and Dean take it in.
Great, Dean thinks. Just how he wants to spend eternity. Watching Sam with someone else, trying to ignore whatever’s going on, pretending they’re just normal brothers and this is fine with him.
Or maybe it won’t be like that at all. Sam won’t ignore Dean, not all the time. He can have them both and Dean knows he’s got no hope of pushing Sam away, not for his dignity and some selfish jealousy. Sam saved the world, he shouldn’t have to choose. It just sucks for Dean and Jess that they’ll only get the person they love half the time.
Sam moves to one side of the bed, draws Jess in and slowly begins to undo the dress, lips pressing to her skin as more of it begins to show. The green fabric slips from her shoulders elegantly and pools at their feet and she turns to kiss Sam, one arm wrapping around his neck.
She’s got nothing underneath and Dean thinks he’s supposed to look away for modesty’s sake-she’s Sam’s girl for crying out loud, Dean doesn’t even know how she’d react to his and Sam’s relationship, if she doesn’t already know-but he keeps his eyes on them, anyway. She’s perfect, probably looks better than any of the girls Dean had thought highly of himself for getting while he was alive, and he can’t help how hot he gets looking at them.
Sam runs a hand down the length of her body, drawing Dean’s eyes as he moves, until his fingers slowly begin to work into her. She smiles, lets her head fall back, and moans when Sam bends down to lick and suck at her breast. The rhythm between them, the way Sam touches her, is all familiar, intimate, and it makes Dean hurt to think that Sam memorized this, loved this, and had to live without it for so long.
“Dean,” she moans when her head lifts back up and her eyes open slowly, dark with lust but meeting his with enough controlled thought to make Dean turn away.
“Sorry,” he says, wiping a hand over his mouth. He should really go. Should really have gone before this started. There’s a couch downstairs with his name on it.
“Yeah,” Sam says, sitting up. “Yeah. Wanna see that.”
He crawls up the bed and reaches for Dean’s hand, turning him around until they’re face to face. Sam’s messy fingers curl in Dean’s clothes and he moves up to kiss him. He begins to work at Dean’s buttons and Dean trembles, wants it so bad, will take anything Sam remembers to give him.
He doesn’t realize how fast Sam is working until his jeans fall to the floor and Sam moves down to remove his boxers, pausing to nuzzle his face into Dean’s crotch. Dean runs a hand over the top of Sam’s head as Sam tugs down the last thing standing between Dean and being completely naked in front of Sam and this girl he hardly knows. It’s the first time that’s ever made him uncomfortable. He feels like he should know her, he feels like he shouldn’t be doing this in front of her, too.
Dean looks up to Jess. She’s reclining against the back of the bed, fully exposed, an unreadable expression on her face. Sam takes back his attention, licks along Dean’s shaft and takes him into his mouth while Dean’s not even paying attention.
Dean gasps and thrusts into the sudden warmth, and then Sam steals it away from him. He looks up at Dean, still holding Dean’s cock close enough to brush against his cheek, and pleads for Dean to fuck Jess, as if Dean could ever say no to his little brother looking like that.
Dean doesn’t think he says yes, but somehow he ends up climbing into the bed, crawling up it, until he’s hovering over Jess, anyway. She smiles and tries to kiss him, but Dean takes the coward’s route, buries his face in her neck instead.
It’s Sam’s hand that urges Dean down, but Jess grabs his shoulder and lifts herself up as soon as he’s inside of her, begging for more. Dean snaps then, gives her exactly what she asks for, but in an ugly way he knows he’ll be ashamed of as soon as it’s finished. He fucks her, hard and dirty, the way he used to fuck the girls he met in bars, girls he picked up and said goodbye to within an hour. He fucks her hoping it’ll hurt, because she stole something that was his, and he can’t hate or even blame her for it.
She moans, though, cries out that it’s good, and Dean knows it is. This is something Dean is good at, has always been good at; Jess is not the first girl to get used like this and say thank you in the morning.
Maybe Sam gets it, though. He begins to stroke his hands down Dean’s back, trying to soothe him. It doesn’t work, it just makes Dean more jealous, makes Dean want Sam to be his more and he has to wonder what it is he’s doing right now, why Sam and Jess would let him have this when he’ll be cast out of sight as soon as she’s done riding her orgasm and thinking they’d given him his due.
As usual, Sam refuses to lose a fight, and when his touches don’t sufficiently calm Dean, he moves on to trying to distract him. Dean’s thrusts stutter when he feels Sam’s tongue moving down his spine, and he pauses.
“Slow down, Dean,” Sam commands. “Slow down so I can taste you.”
Dean is adequately chastised, has to obey whether he likes it or not. Sam knows how to use that tongue too well, has too much experience making Dean’s brain shut down like this, and Dean can’t do anything that’ll get in the way of Sam licking him. His thrusts take much longer now, are only really powerful when it feels too good for Dean to control himself. Jess helps a little the rest of the time, rides up on Dean when Dean can’t think to do the fucking himself.
Sam’s tongue is swirling around Dean’s hole with debauched noises of satisfaction when Jess begins to shout, her tight cunt squeezing Dean’s cock as she comes. Dean feels it happening, hears the wet sounds as his dick continues to move into her, and the slip-and-slide of his skin on hers becomes too much to stand.
“Sammy. I’m gonna-”
Sam doesn’t answer, doesn’t stop, licks deep into Dean like he’s being rewarded for something. Dean falls into Jess one last time, filling her with his come. She holds him close as his aftershocks make him move inside of her with two or three tiny thrusts.
Sam moves back when Dean’s done and watches Dean pull out of his girlfriend, rolling onto his back next to her. He’s kneeling over them, between them, with his hand stroking his dick urgently.
“Not gonna last long,” he says, looking at Jess. “But I gotta feel it.”
She nods and welcomes Sam in as he goes balls deep inside of her, Dean’s jizz making the entry easy, even for someone as big as Sam. He’s hardly thrusting before his come joins the rest of theirs and he pulls out of her with a hot groan.
Sam drops between them so heavy the bed bounces and Jess laughs. Sam snakes one arm around each of them and murmurs something about being tired before dropping off to sleep. It’s been a long day, Dean should be tired, too, but he stays awake for awhile and wakes up more than once during the night.
He gives up after a few hours, lifts his head from Sam’s chest and slowly repositions Sam’s arm. He thinks about moving it so it’s holding Jess like the one on Sam’s left, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
He sits up at the edge of the bed watching them for a few minutes, watches how happy and easy this is for them, and knows he’s the one that shouldn’t be a part of it, almost comes to peace with it. He leans over and brushes his hand over his brother’s hair, kisses Sam softly one last time, and rises from the bed to leave the lovers alone.
_______________________________________________________________
A tiny hand finds Dean’s shoulder and pulls him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here or if he really fell asleep, but Jess is looking down at him from the edge of the couch, wearing a white nightdress that makes Dean think of awful things.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” she says gently.
Dean doesn’t know how to respond, but she picks it up for him.
“I’ve spent so long, I don’t know how long, watching you. I think I was so excited when you guys got here that I couldn’t stop to think about how you would feel. I forgot that you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“About us.”
“You and Sam? I know all about you and Sam.”
“No, about all three of us.”
“What’s there to know?”
“I’m not here for Sam, I’m here for both of you. And you’re both here for me, and,” Jess reaches out to stroke Dean with a tenderness that doesn’t make much sense after the way he’s been acting, “we’re here for you, Dean.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Maybe not. Not yet. But that’s how it works. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t both…I was confused, too, when I first got here, but I get it now. You don’t know me, but I know everything about you. Not just since I died, time doesn’t work like that here. Time doesn’t exist. I’ve watched and lived every single moment of your lives. I was there the day you first saw Sam, the day you first saved him, the day you first kissed him. I know things about him you don’t know, things about you he doesn’t know. And I understand those things, even when they were terrible. I know why you both did them and why you can’t ever share them with each other. Dean, I love both of you. So when you came here, all I could think was that finally I would have this and I forgot that you might not see it that way yet. I’m not stealing Sam from you; no one could ever do that. I’m just claiming what’s mine, and not just from him.”
“Still doesn’t make any goddamn sense to me,” Dean says stubbornly.
Jess laughs. “That’s ok. It will. You’ll love me eventually,” she bites her lip, “you have to love me one day.”
Dean can’t believe the pleading in her expression, doesn’t think anyone’s ever been scared he wouldn’t care about them before, doesn’t understand why someone this beautiful, someone who has Sam’s love, would bother to even notice if he loves them or not. It’s kind of nice to be on the opposite end of it for once, but Dean knows too well how scary it is, so he leans forward to kiss her, warm and reassuring and she takes his hand and relaxes back into the couch. Dean follows her, sinks into her for the second time that night.
He does it right this time, moves into Jess tenderly and gives her all the reverence Sam has since Dean got him back from Stanford. They’re back in the bed by the time Sam wakes up the next morning, and if Sam finds it unusual that he’s gone from being in the middle to being pushed to the left while Dean and Jess sleep wrapped up in each other, he doesn’t say anything.
He kisses Dean’s neck when he catches Dean stroking his fingers through Jess’s hair and whispers, “I always knew you’d like her. I didn’t realize it was like this, but I knew the first time I met her that you’d hit it off. I think that’s one of the first things I loved about her.”
“Don’t be a girl, Sam,” Dean replies.
_______________________________________________________________
Time really doesn’t make any logical sense in Heaven. Jess has learned all the rules in her time here and assures them that there’s only one thing about time that really matters: when you died. You can live a thousand years in Heaven, watch everything that’s happened since the first day God rolled his lazy ass out of bed and decided to make something happen, all the things that will happen before Death reaps him. It doesn’t matter. If you ever go back, you get sent back to that one unspectacular moment when your heart stopped pumping.
They don’t keep a record of how long they’re there for that reason, but Dean would put it at a few months. Long enough to get used to it, for the irregularities to become routine. Jess teaches them how to build and their Heaven comes to life around them, shaping everything that ever gave them joy. Dean had been wrong about his original assessment of the place. No one gets bored in Heaven.
“Dean,” Sam says with his patented scowl on as he slams the door.
Dean assumes an innocent air. “Yes?”
“Why are the roses in our garden singing AC/DC’s greatest hits?”
“I don’t know. Wasn’t me.”
“And the unicorns that have my name spray painted on their sides?”
“Nice of them to let everyone know who they belong to.”
“I suppose the half-shark, half-octopus trying to attack them isn’t yours, either?”
“Hah, no, Sharktopus is all me.”
“Who even thinks of these things?”
“It was the last movie I watched before we, you know.” Dean imitates himself biting it and Jess, who’s reclining against him reading, laughs. “Does it look badass? I haven’t seen it since I decided we needed one.”
“Why do we need a shark monster eating the unicorns we also don’t need again?”
“Well we oughta have something to hunt,” Dean says, smirking as Sam rolls his eyes.
“Please go kill it. It’s ruining all of our hard work to make this place livable.”
“Fine, fine.”
“And make the flowers shut up.”
“Flowers stay,” Jess says, winking at Dean. “Majority rules.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, I am,” Jess says proudly. “Flowers really weren’t Dean’s idea.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Unicorns weren’t mine either,” Dean says, kissing Jess’s neck. “Totally Sammy’s. He always wanted unicorns.”
“Dean, I did not!”
“Tell it to the court, Sam.”
Jess sits up to say something when there’s a knock at the door. Sam goes to get it and whoever comes in is not someone Dean recognizes.
“Three’s a party,” Jess says. “Four soul mates is just getting excessive.”
“How are we going to afford all this laundry?” Dean asks.
“I guess we’ll have to feed him to Sharktopus,” Jess answers solemnly.
“Are you Sam and Dean Winchester?” the man asks blandly.
Dean identifies the speech pattern immediately and groans. “I thought we were done dealing with angels.”
“I must relay to you a matter of most serious consequence.”
“I’m gonna take a nap,” Dean replies. Even Sam snickers.
The angel blinks at them until Jess gets annoyed. “Yeah, what?”
“Our Heavenly Father has determined that the time for the Winchester brothers to pass has not yet come. They must return to Earth for a final mission.”
“What? Hell no!” Dean says.
“Failure to comply will result in a permanent banishment from Heaven.”
Sam, Dean, and Jess all fall silent and look around at each other.
“Why?” Jess asks the angel, her voice shaking a little.
“There are angels working against Heaven, they wish to begin the Apocalypse again. Only the vessels can stop it.”
“I’m no one’s vessel,” Sam snaps. “Not anymore. We fixed that. We earned the right, Christ, it’s not our fault if you guys can’t keep your own in line.”
Dean bites his lip. “Can she come back with us?”
“Dean, I don’t want to go ba-”
“You think I do? People are gonna get hurt if we don’t, Sammy. We can’t just…”
Sam takes mercy on him, puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I know.”
Dean turns back to the angel. “You’re sending us all back.”
“I do not have authority to return her. You will be reunited when your work is finished and your lives have, once again, been terminated.”
“But you have to do it,” Dean practically begs.
“No, that’s bullshit. This is bullshit,” Sam says, putting an arm around Dean’s shoulder.
The angel doesn’t even flinch. “We must return quickly. Say your goodbyes.”
“Whose idea was it to feed him to the shark?” Sam asks. “Because I like it now.”
Jess laughs, then takes their hands. “It’s okay, guys. You should go. I’ll still be here when…I’m happy for you. You get to live a little more. That’s great. And I’ll be with you even if I’m not, you know, with you.”
“But we’ll forget,” Dean says. “I’ll forget you.”
Jess nods sadly. “I’ll remember.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Dean, leave it,” she says. “Please, just go.”
Sam steps forward, kisses her forehead, and nods at the angel. Dean’s lips are still on Jess’s when he feels himself beginning to fade from Heaven. His last bittersweet thought is that they’ll be back, and Dean almost laughs at the fact that the only good news he can think of is that he’ll be dead eventually.