All the time in the world
Title: All the time in the world
Author:
missyjack
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Words: 693
Warning: Spoilers for 2.22
Summary: Coda for All Hell Breaks Loose: Part Two
A/N: Did someone order buttsecks with a side order of angst? (eyes
tvm)
Today Sam had died, achieved his life’s mission, seen his dead father, closed the gates of hell and found out his brother had a year to live.
Quite a day.
Dean and Sam had driven into the night, silenced by the enormity of what they’d done, what they’d witnessed. While Bobby and Ellen were headed back to the salvage yard, they were going to scout around the churches at the points of the devil’s trap. Just in case Samuel Colt left anything useful there. Anything that might help in an unholy war, say.
They stopped at the first motel they saw and Sam collected the key to Room 14C. Inside Dean threw his bag in the corner, and flicked on the bathroom light. “First shower’s yours”.
He turned to see Sam standing, just looking at him, crying. “Awww Sam, no. Don’t. Please.”
Sam was across the room in two strides. He stood staring at Dean for a moment before he took his face in one hand, and tilted it up. Licking his thumb, he wiped a smear of blood from the bridge of Dean’s nose.
“Sammy…” said Dean before Sam shut him up with a kiss.
When words failed them this was how they had always been able to say what they were feeling.
It wasn’t a tender kiss, or a sweet kiss. Their mouths met with the frantic need they couldn’t voice. It was fierce and hungry and angry. Sam felt rage well up, thick and dark inside him. At the demon, at Jake, at Dean. How could you?
How could I not? Dean hated himself for telling Sam but he knew he couldn’t keep it from him. The last secret he’d kept had nearly killed him, and he wasn’t going to spend what time he had hiding things from Sam.
Sam pushed Dean hard against the wall. He held him by the shoulders, and pressed his body hard against Dean’s. As their mouths kissed invocations of love, of protection, across their faces, tears mingled, streaking their grime-stained cheeks. Salt and water and blood - the stuff of life.
They were here and they were alive. Broken maybe, bruised certainly. But here and alive, their hearts beating in syncopated rhythm.
Sam pushed Dean’s legs apart with one knee, and reached a hand down to squeeze his cock through the denim. “Want you in me…”
Dean pulled Sam’s shirt open, and spread both hands flat, feeling the rise and fall with each breath. He thought of those hours he’d sat watching Sam’s lifeless form, never thinking to see that chest fill with life again. “I’m always in here Sam. Always.”
Dean crept a hand round to Sam’s back and traced two fingers down his spine, stopping to feel the thick scar. He saw Sam’s eyes widen at his touch.
"Fuck me, Dean.” Sam kissed him, gently this time, and whispered into his mouth, “You can’t treat me like I’m gonna break ”
They undressed each other slowly, hands moving with care for cuts and bruises and aching muscles. For a while they just held each other as they lay on the bed, Dean at Sam’s back, his face nestled in Sam’s neck as their bodies moved slowly against each other.
Dean reached a hand over, and worked Sam’s cock with slow firm grip, feeling him swell under his touch. As Dean grew hard too, and desire rose in them both, Dean eased Sam open with two spit-slick fingers. They both took a short sharp breath as Dean’s cock stretched Sam and pressed into him.
Dean moved slowly, hesitantly almost, until Sam drew him in further, and pushed back onto him with increasing speed. He wrapped his hand around Dean’s and together they fisted Sam’s cock with fast, short strokes.
Sam came with a deep moan and a spray of come covered their mingled fingers. The tremors of Sam’s orgasm rippled around Dean and, as he felt his own release approaching, he started to pull out. But Sam reached around and a firm hand against Dean's hip held him in place. “Come in me, Dean. Come inside me.”
And with that, Dean thrust forward one last time, and gave himself up to his brother.
The next morning when Sam woke, he lay for while staring at Dean. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, less careworn, even with the wound on his forehead. Sam brushed the back of his fingers across his cheek, and Dean murmured, his lips parting slightly with a sigh. Maybe they could stay in bed all day, Sam thought. Send out for pizza. Fuck until they slept again.
Then Sam remembered that today was Day 364.
Author:
missyjack
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Words: 693
Warning: Spoilers for 2.22
Summary: Coda for All Hell Breaks Loose: Part Two
A/N: Did someone order buttsecks with a side order of angst? (eyes
tvm)
Today Sam had died, achieved his life’s mission, seen his dead father, closed the gates of hell and found out his brother had a year to live.
Quite a day.
Dean and Sam had driven into the night, silenced by the enormity of what they’d done, what they’d witnessed. While Bobby and Ellen were headed back to the salvage yard, they were going to scout around the churches at the points of the devil’s trap. Just in case Samuel Colt left anything useful there. Anything that might help in an unholy war, say.
They stopped at the first motel they saw and Sam collected the key to Room 14C. Inside Dean threw his bag in the corner, and flicked on the bathroom light. “First shower’s yours”.
He turned to see Sam standing, just looking at him, crying. “Awww Sam, no. Don’t. Please.”
Sam was across the room in two strides. He stood staring at Dean for a moment before he took his face in one hand, and tilted it up. Licking his thumb, he wiped a smear of blood from the bridge of Dean’s nose.
“Sammy…” said Dean before Sam shut him up with a kiss.
When words failed them this was how they had always been able to say what they were feeling.
It wasn’t a tender kiss, or a sweet kiss. Their mouths met with the frantic need they couldn’t voice. It was fierce and hungry and angry. Sam felt rage well up, thick and dark inside him. At the demon, at Jake, at Dean. How could you?
How could I not? Dean hated himself for telling Sam but he knew he couldn’t keep it from him. The last secret he’d kept had nearly killed him, and he wasn’t going to spend what time he had hiding things from Sam.
Sam pushed Dean hard against the wall. He held him by the shoulders, and pressed his body hard against Dean’s. As their mouths kissed invocations of love, of protection, across their faces, tears mingled, streaking their grime-stained cheeks. Salt and water and blood - the stuff of life.
They were here and they were alive. Broken maybe, bruised certainly. But here and alive, their hearts beating in syncopated rhythm.
Sam pushed Dean’s legs apart with one knee, and reached a hand down to squeeze his cock through the denim. “Want you in me…”
Dean pulled Sam’s shirt open, and spread both hands flat, feeling the rise and fall with each breath. He thought of those hours he’d sat watching Sam’s lifeless form, never thinking to see that chest fill with life again. “I’m always in here Sam. Always.”
Dean crept a hand round to Sam’s back and traced two fingers down his spine, stopping to feel the thick scar. He saw Sam’s eyes widen at his touch.
"Fuck me, Dean.” Sam kissed him, gently this time, and whispered into his mouth, “You can’t treat me like I’m gonna break ”
They undressed each other slowly, hands moving with care for cuts and bruises and aching muscles. For a while they just held each other as they lay on the bed, Dean at Sam’s back, his face nestled in Sam’s neck as their bodies moved slowly against each other.
Dean reached a hand over, and worked Sam’s cock with slow firm grip, feeling him swell under his touch. As Dean grew hard too, and desire rose in them both, Dean eased Sam open with two spit-slick fingers. They both took a short sharp breath as Dean’s cock stretched Sam and pressed into him.
Dean moved slowly, hesitantly almost, until Sam drew him in further, and pushed back onto him with increasing speed. He wrapped his hand around Dean’s and together they fisted Sam’s cock with fast, short strokes.
Sam came with a deep moan and a spray of come covered their mingled fingers. The tremors of Sam’s orgasm rippled around Dean and, as he felt his own release approaching, he started to pull out. But Sam reached around and a firm hand against Dean's hip held him in place. “Come in me, Dean. Come inside me.”
And with that, Dean thrust forward one last time, and gave himself up to his brother.
The next morning when Sam woke, he lay for while staring at Dean. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, less careworn, even with the wound on his forehead. Sam brushed the back of his fingers across his cheek, and Dean murmured, his lips parting slightly with a sigh. Maybe they could stay in bed all day, Sam thought. Send out for pizza. Fuck until they slept again.
Then Sam remembered that today was Day 364.