FIC - Try
Title: Try
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, hints of non-con, angst.
“You’re the one who wanted back in.”
“You’re the one who called me back in.”
They stared each other down, a sorry, pathetic excuse for a showdown, both of them knowing they’d made mistakes, neither of them willing to admit it right this minute. It would happen eventually, the I’m sorrys and the Let’s try to make things rights, but not now.
Dean was still maintaining the façade of his “I’ve got the upper hand here” stance, and Sam, of course, was keeping on his barely-shrouded “I’m only here because you need me” mask.
It was too much. They thought they’d already seen the levee break, but this…it was worse than anything the brothers had faced down between each other. Lies, mistrust, betrayal, abandonment, anger, God (or Whoever) knew what else, filled the ten inches of physical space between them. It was like a wall, a solid barrier keeping them apart.
Sam had resigned himself long ago to the reality that they’d never get back what they had before. Nevermind the sex, he’d kissed that goodbye once Dean had found out about him and Ruby, and after the Lilith debacle, he figured it was pretty much a done deal. But the loyalty…the trust and the inherent instinct to protect each other…Sam figured he might as well just forget about that too. Dean would never trust him again. He’d said so himself, and Sam didn’t blame him. His brother was taking him back now out of necessity, there was no other reasonable explanation.
Castiel and Bobby had their own opinions about the two of them going their separate ways, but Dean and Sam didn’t put much stock in anyone else’s suggestions anymore. Hell, they barely accepted each other’s ideas. Dean hadn’t said it yet, but he knew. He knew Sam would say yes to Lucifer eventually, he knew Sam wasn’t strong enough to resist that pull toward what he thought was atonement. Better to keep him close, do what he could to keep it from happening, or at least put it off for as long as possible.
Sam felt just the same. He was absolutely certain that Dean, the patron saint of self-sacrificing (if there wasn’t one already, his brother would be the perfect person for that position) would give himself over and say yes to Michael because why not give himself up for somebody else (or billions of somebody elses) again. That’s what he did, Dean, he opened his arms to anything willing to take him instead of his father, instead of his brother, instead of Castiel, instead of the entire fucking planet. Narcissistic motherfucker, thinking he could save the world, as if the world was better off without him in it, because he’d gone on his own terms.
Those few inches between them narrowed considerably, though, within just a minute or so of their first verbal exchange.
“You arrogant little shit. We wouldn’t even be in this mess if - “
“If you hadn’t broken the first seal? If I hadn’t broken the last one? Which do you think was worse, Dean? Does it even matter? When you get right down to it, we both did this. You were manipulated by Alistair. I was manipulated by Ruby. Facts are facts, man, don’t you try to pin this on me. I spent enough time blaming myself. But there’s enough blame to go around here.”
“Fuck you, Sam. I didn’t know I was staring the apocalypse after I’d spent thirty years being tortured in hell.
“And you think I knew killing Lilith would be a bad thing to do?” Sam shouted, unable to keep himself from grabbing onto Dean’s jacket and shoving him a few feet back. “You still think you’re so far above me, I ought to be grateful that you let me come back to fight, is that it? Fucking prick. How dare you? How dare you put yourself on a pedestal after everything we’ve seen? Everything we’ve done?”
Sam’s anger surged out of him like a wave, no, fuck that, like a goddamn tsunami, and he clocked his brother in the jaw with a closed fist, knocking him another foot or so backward. No more than a second later, Dean returned the blow, right into Sam’s diaphragm, knocking the breath out of him and sending him sprawling backward, grabbing onto the edge of the motel’s tiny desk so he didn’t fall directly to the ground as he tried to steady himself.
And that was it. The blows kept coming from both sides, bruising ribs, splitting skin, leaving bruises that would swell spectacularly within minutes. The desk was in pieces, a lamp was shattered, Dean was bleeding and Sam was reeling. Dean aimed a kick to Sam’s torso and Sam was somehow quick enough to deflect it, breaking his brother’s balance and landing him directly on top of Sam when he fell.
Dean clenched his fist, ready to break Sam’s nose and put him down for the count. But they didn’t realize that there was an invisible rubber band in the air, wound around the two of them, and at that moment, it snapped. The fist Dean was holding above Sam’s face unwound, then found itself again in the back of Sam’s hair, pulling him up into a violent kiss, his teeth knocking against his brother’s and his hand gripping the back of Sam’s head allowing no room for movement. It wasn’t more than ten seconds before he felt Sam pushing back against him, his anger overcoming his lust just for now. But Dean wasn’t about to give up. This was what he wanted, and he knew Sam wanted it too, they’d both denied themselves for too long. And honestly, if even he hadn’t known Sam had wanted it, he wouldn’t have stopped. Sam would give in eventually, of that he was absolutely certain. It was just a matter of time. Minutes, seconds, whatever, it was going to happen.
Sam felt himself being hauled off the floor and thrown onto one of the beds, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He missed being in bed with Dean, but he didn’t want it like this. He struggled and almost had Dean off him until he felt a hard cock pushing against his hip. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, he was stronger than this and he knew it, knew he didn’t have to surrender to those baser instincts when the whole point of this was to demonstrate that he wasn’t under Dean’s thumb. Or body. Or cock. Whatever.
“Get the fuck off me, Dean”, Sam gritted out, pushing against Dean’s chest but not able to force any distance between them.
“Yeah, sure, Sammy, I’ll get the fuck off you when you tell me you don’t want it. Go on. Say it”, he taunted, “Tell me you don’t want me. Look at me and say you don’t want me to fuck you.”
Sam leveled a melting glare at his brother and replied, “I don’t want you. I don’t want you to fuck me.” For a moment, he thought that might be enough to get him out of this.
Dean laughed. Full-on laughed, right in Sam’s face. “Liar. Shut up.” He made short work of pulling Sam’s loose jeans and boxers down, though he didn’t put any thought into ridding himself of any of his own clothing right then. Sam’s raging erection didn’t escape his brother’s notice, and he repeated himself. “Fucking liar.” Dean slicked up his fingers with spit and pre-come from Sam’s cock, and pushed two of them into Sam without warning.
“Goddamnit, Dean, stop, come on, you’re hurting me, you stupid cocksucker!”
“You wish I was sucking your cock. No such luck tonight, Sammy”, Dean shot back at him, twisting his fingers and listening to the cries of pain that were so much better than the ones he heard when he’d broken his brother’s ribs a few minutes earlier. “You’re going to say it. You’re going to say that you want it, I can already tell”, he said, lining up his cock against his brother’s hole and pushing inside all at once, no time for Sam to relax or adjust.
Sam screamed. Full-out screamed and threw his head back against the pillows. When his face was directed at Dean again, the first thing that registered was the tears. Sam was crying.
It was like a punch to Dean’s gut, and all of a sudden, his brain registered what he was doing. He couldn’t bring himself to think the actual word, but he knew what it was. Every drop of anger he’d been feeling dissipated, and he didn’t pull out of Sam but he stopped moving, stunned into stillness and silence.
“Oh Jesus, Sam, Sammy, please, I’m so sorry. I can’t - I don’t - fuck…”, he trailed off, pushed himself up from his elbows to his forearms and felt his own eyes stinging with unshed tears.
But the instant he started pulling back, Sam grabbed onto his shoulders. “It’s all right, Dean. You wanted me to say it, so I’m saying it. I want this. I didn’t want it to be like that, but I missed you, I missed this. Don’t stop. Please. Just…give me a minute.”
Dean moved forward instantly and kissed at all the tears he could catch falling down his brother’s cheeks. “Fuck, I didn’t mean - “…he wasn’t sure what to say.
“We’ve both done things we didn’t mean to happen. But we’re here now. We’re together again. Let’s just be together. Forget the rest of it. Just for this little while, forget it, forget all of it and let us have this. Please.”
Sam should be wailing on him right now. Sam should be breaking his bones, throwing him out into the parking lot, hell, if they weren’t who they were, Sam should be calling the fucking cops. But he wasn’t. Whatever Dean had just done, which was a practically unforgivable act, Sam had forgiven him for it without even being asked. All he wanted was what they had before, and Dean would give him that, would give him anything, would hand over the entire universe to him if he could, he was so grateful. The way Sam’s brain worked didn’t ever make sense to Dean, but he’d been on the receiving end of Sam’s forgiveness enough times now to know that Sam would keep giving it long after Dean stopped deserving it.
Dean buried his head in Sam’s shoulder and accepted Sam’s embrace as he started to move, slowly, gently, the way he would have before. The pleasure and the pressure built between them sooner than either of them expected, and Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders and he shuddered and came from the friction of his dick against Dean’s body. Dean leaned in and kissed him tenderly as his movements stuttered, then moved his mouth next to Sam’s ear, saying “I love you, baby boy, I love you, I swear”, as he came inside of his brother.
“Love you too, De”, was the response he got as he rolled off of Sam, and there was nothing he could do but tuck himself into Sam’s arms and let go of his own tears, knowing it was as much of an apology as he could manage at that moment.
There was a whole lot more fighting ahead. Between themselves, between them and the forces who wanted to use them for their own purposes, hell, even inside their own minds. But they’d face it all together. At least, they thought they would, right then. They thought at least they’d try.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence, hints of non-con, angst.
“You’re the one who wanted back in.”
“You’re the one who called me back in.”
They stared each other down, a sorry, pathetic excuse for a showdown, both of them knowing they’d made mistakes, neither of them willing to admit it right this minute. It would happen eventually, the I’m sorrys and the Let’s try to make things rights, but not now.
Dean was still maintaining the façade of his “I’ve got the upper hand here” stance, and Sam, of course, was keeping on his barely-shrouded “I’m only here because you need me” mask.
It was too much. They thought they’d already seen the levee break, but this…it was worse than anything the brothers had faced down between each other. Lies, mistrust, betrayal, abandonment, anger, God (or Whoever) knew what else, filled the ten inches of physical space between them. It was like a wall, a solid barrier keeping them apart.
Sam had resigned himself long ago to the reality that they’d never get back what they had before. Nevermind the sex, he’d kissed that goodbye once Dean had found out about him and Ruby, and after the Lilith debacle, he figured it was pretty much a done deal. But the loyalty…the trust and the inherent instinct to protect each other…Sam figured he might as well just forget about that too. Dean would never trust him again. He’d said so himself, and Sam didn’t blame him. His brother was taking him back now out of necessity, there was no other reasonable explanation.
Castiel and Bobby had their own opinions about the two of them going their separate ways, but Dean and Sam didn’t put much stock in anyone else’s suggestions anymore. Hell, they barely accepted each other’s ideas. Dean hadn’t said it yet, but he knew. He knew Sam would say yes to Lucifer eventually, he knew Sam wasn’t strong enough to resist that pull toward what he thought was atonement. Better to keep him close, do what he could to keep it from happening, or at least put it off for as long as possible.
Sam felt just the same. He was absolutely certain that Dean, the patron saint of self-sacrificing (if there wasn’t one already, his brother would be the perfect person for that position) would give himself over and say yes to Michael because why not give himself up for somebody else (or billions of somebody elses) again. That’s what he did, Dean, he opened his arms to anything willing to take him instead of his father, instead of his brother, instead of Castiel, instead of the entire fucking planet. Narcissistic motherfucker, thinking he could save the world, as if the world was better off without him in it, because he’d gone on his own terms.
Those few inches between them narrowed considerably, though, within just a minute or so of their first verbal exchange.
“You arrogant little shit. We wouldn’t even be in this mess if - “
“If you hadn’t broken the first seal? If I hadn’t broken the last one? Which do you think was worse, Dean? Does it even matter? When you get right down to it, we both did this. You were manipulated by Alistair. I was manipulated by Ruby. Facts are facts, man, don’t you try to pin this on me. I spent enough time blaming myself. But there’s enough blame to go around here.”
“Fuck you, Sam. I didn’t know I was staring the apocalypse after I’d spent thirty years being tortured in hell.
“And you think I knew killing Lilith would be a bad thing to do?” Sam shouted, unable to keep himself from grabbing onto Dean’s jacket and shoving him a few feet back. “You still think you’re so far above me, I ought to be grateful that you let me come back to fight, is that it? Fucking prick. How dare you? How dare you put yourself on a pedestal after everything we’ve seen? Everything we’ve done?”
Sam’s anger surged out of him like a wave, no, fuck that, like a goddamn tsunami, and he clocked his brother in the jaw with a closed fist, knocking him another foot or so backward. No more than a second later, Dean returned the blow, right into Sam’s diaphragm, knocking the breath out of him and sending him sprawling backward, grabbing onto the edge of the motel’s tiny desk so he didn’t fall directly to the ground as he tried to steady himself.
And that was it. The blows kept coming from both sides, bruising ribs, splitting skin, leaving bruises that would swell spectacularly within minutes. The desk was in pieces, a lamp was shattered, Dean was bleeding and Sam was reeling. Dean aimed a kick to Sam’s torso and Sam was somehow quick enough to deflect it, breaking his brother’s balance and landing him directly on top of Sam when he fell.
Dean clenched his fist, ready to break Sam’s nose and put him down for the count. But they didn’t realize that there was an invisible rubber band in the air, wound around the two of them, and at that moment, it snapped. The fist Dean was holding above Sam’s face unwound, then found itself again in the back of Sam’s hair, pulling him up into a violent kiss, his teeth knocking against his brother’s and his hand gripping the back of Sam’s head allowing no room for movement. It wasn’t more than ten seconds before he felt Sam pushing back against him, his anger overcoming his lust just for now. But Dean wasn’t about to give up. This was what he wanted, and he knew Sam wanted it too, they’d both denied themselves for too long. And honestly, if even he hadn’t known Sam had wanted it, he wouldn’t have stopped. Sam would give in eventually, of that he was absolutely certain. It was just a matter of time. Minutes, seconds, whatever, it was going to happen.
Sam felt himself being hauled off the floor and thrown onto one of the beds, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He missed being in bed with Dean, but he didn’t want it like this. He struggled and almost had Dean off him until he felt a hard cock pushing against his hip. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, he was stronger than this and he knew it, knew he didn’t have to surrender to those baser instincts when the whole point of this was to demonstrate that he wasn’t under Dean’s thumb. Or body. Or cock. Whatever.
“Get the fuck off me, Dean”, Sam gritted out, pushing against Dean’s chest but not able to force any distance between them.
“Yeah, sure, Sammy, I’ll get the fuck off you when you tell me you don’t want it. Go on. Say it”, he taunted, “Tell me you don’t want me. Look at me and say you don’t want me to fuck you.”
Sam leveled a melting glare at his brother and replied, “I don’t want you. I don’t want you to fuck me.” For a moment, he thought that might be enough to get him out of this.
Dean laughed. Full-on laughed, right in Sam’s face. “Liar. Shut up.” He made short work of pulling Sam’s loose jeans and boxers down, though he didn’t put any thought into ridding himself of any of his own clothing right then. Sam’s raging erection didn’t escape his brother’s notice, and he repeated himself. “Fucking liar.” Dean slicked up his fingers with spit and pre-come from Sam’s cock, and pushed two of them into Sam without warning.
“Goddamnit, Dean, stop, come on, you’re hurting me, you stupid cocksucker!”
“You wish I was sucking your cock. No such luck tonight, Sammy”, Dean shot back at him, twisting his fingers and listening to the cries of pain that were so much better than the ones he heard when he’d broken his brother’s ribs a few minutes earlier. “You’re going to say it. You’re going to say that you want it, I can already tell”, he said, lining up his cock against his brother’s hole and pushing inside all at once, no time for Sam to relax or adjust.
Sam screamed. Full-out screamed and threw his head back against the pillows. When his face was directed at Dean again, the first thing that registered was the tears. Sam was crying.
It was like a punch to Dean’s gut, and all of a sudden, his brain registered what he was doing. He couldn’t bring himself to think the actual word, but he knew what it was. Every drop of anger he’d been feeling dissipated, and he didn’t pull out of Sam but he stopped moving, stunned into stillness and silence.
“Oh Jesus, Sam, Sammy, please, I’m so sorry. I can’t - I don’t - fuck…”, he trailed off, pushed himself up from his elbows to his forearms and felt his own eyes stinging with unshed tears.
But the instant he started pulling back, Sam grabbed onto his shoulders. “It’s all right, Dean. You wanted me to say it, so I’m saying it. I want this. I didn’t want it to be like that, but I missed you, I missed this. Don’t stop. Please. Just…give me a minute.”
Dean moved forward instantly and kissed at all the tears he could catch falling down his brother’s cheeks. “Fuck, I didn’t mean - “…he wasn’t sure what to say.
“We’ve both done things we didn’t mean to happen. But we’re here now. We’re together again. Let’s just be together. Forget the rest of it. Just for this little while, forget it, forget all of it and let us have this. Please.”
Sam should be wailing on him right now. Sam should be breaking his bones, throwing him out into the parking lot, hell, if they weren’t who they were, Sam should be calling the fucking cops. But he wasn’t. Whatever Dean had just done, which was a practically unforgivable act, Sam had forgiven him for it without even being asked. All he wanted was what they had before, and Dean would give him that, would give him anything, would hand over the entire universe to him if he could, he was so grateful. The way Sam’s brain worked didn’t ever make sense to Dean, but he’d been on the receiving end of Sam’s forgiveness enough times now to know that Sam would keep giving it long after Dean stopped deserving it.
Dean buried his head in Sam’s shoulder and accepted Sam’s embrace as he started to move, slowly, gently, the way he would have before. The pleasure and the pressure built between them sooner than either of them expected, and Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders and he shuddered and came from the friction of his dick against Dean’s body. Dean leaned in and kissed him tenderly as his movements stuttered, then moved his mouth next to Sam’s ear, saying “I love you, baby boy, I love you, I swear”, as he came inside of his brother.
“Love you too, De”, was the response he got as he rolled off of Sam, and there was nothing he could do but tuck himself into Sam’s arms and let go of his own tears, knowing it was as much of an apology as he could manage at that moment.
There was a whole lot more fighting ahead. Between themselves, between them and the forces who wanted to use them for their own purposes, hell, even inside their own minds. But they’d face it all together. At least, they thought they would, right then. They thought at least they’d try.