When I See You Again (Will It Be Over?)
Ξ August 25th, 2007 | → | ∇ Supernatural, fanfic, nc17, slash |
Title: When I See You (Will It Be Over)
Author: Astrothsknot
Fandom: Supernatural
Paring: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Kripke’s. not mine.
A/N Written for Missyjack in her comments, when she wondered when Sam/Dean first started in our own personal fanons. The Writing Gods possessed me and I wrote this.
It started not long before Sam left for Stanford. It finished when Sam told Dean to stay gone, two years later. When he was twenty one, he met Jess on his birthday - body shots for the birthday boy - and that lust for life got his attention. He didn’t realise it, but he’d replaced his male lover for his female double. She didn’t even have a separate birthday.
Jess is cold in her grave for less than a month when Sam crawls into Dean’s bed, just to cuddle, to feel someone warm against him, but it’s too easy, too familiar and his heart is just so shredded from her loss. It’s too big and too wide and he just needs to feel something again, hold something against the wall of agony he’s run into.
Dean’s hand is stroking his back like he did when they were kids and kisses made band-aids magic. Sam turns his head and catches Dean’s mouth gently, testing the water. Dean’s looking at him; Sam can see the gleam of his eyes in the dark.
Dean will take his cue from him, won’t make any moves, but won’t turn him away either.
Sam leans back in, lips still slow and gentle, but his tongue has slid inside Dean’s mouth. At first he doesn’t respond, but after a moment his tongue slips around Sam’s and his arms tighten around his brother’s back.
Sam pulls at Dean’s t-shirt and his boxers, before Dean helps him out his own. There’s no finesse in the fuck, but there’s no speed either, just hands and mouths slipping along bodies, feeling muscles cord and bunch under skin.
There’s hand cream on the nightstand and Sam reaches for it in the dark. It’s cool against Dean’s hole Sam works it with his fingers, adding more to keep it slick.
Dean moans, can’t believe this is happening, doesn’t dare, but he asks no questions. He’ll take it.
“Turn over,” Sam whispers and it sounds so wrong, so out of place, but Dean does so, lest it breaks the spell and this gift borne of blood and ash is denied him. He doesn’t care that Sam can’t look at him while they fuck
Sam fits his dick up against him, pauses, then pushes. He moves slowly, so Dean’s ass is stretched wide by his brother’s cock. His body weighted down by Sam - when did Sam become a man, all angles and hard lines? This ridged muscle?
Dean’s nerves catch fire even as his ass burns with the stretch - it’s been two years, because he could never do this with anyone else - but it’s every bit as good he remembers. The fire rages under his skin, driving all the rage of his double abandonment before it.
Each thrust is I forgive you.
Each thrust is never leave again.
Each thrust is you, only ever you.
Neither needs to say love.
Sam stiffens and Dean feels him come hot inside him. Sam lies quiescent atop him for a moment, before saying in a voice, heavy with sex and sleep, “Dean?”
Dean only says, “Go to sleep, Sammy.”
