Fic: A Matched Set (Sam/Dean, Explicit) 3 of 3

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Back to Part 2



*****

Once the lights are out and they’re both almost asleep, Dean breaks the silence. “Hey, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” Sam says.

“What’d you pray for when I was in the helicopter, what was it that Amara was trying to give us by suggesting the whole do-over thing?”

Sam sighs and rolls over onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Hopefully this won’t make it even worse between them. He has to be honest and answer this though, Dean deserves that at the very least, he knows that he had to confess what it was that he prayed for back then.

”I begged God or whoever was listening to keep you alive, to bring you back to me. I confessed that you were all I had in the world, that I needed you and loved you so much I couldn’t survive without you. I promised that I’d never leave you again. I swore if they brought you back that I’d love you so much that it would fix you, make you right again, make you happy like you deserved. Just us together, that’s all we ever needed or wanted. I swore I’d love you and make you happy if they brought you back to me.”

“Oh, that’s all,” Dean says with a low chuckle. “And then they lived happily ever after.”

Sam punches him in the side. “Jerk.”

“I’ve prayed for pretty much the same thing, almost every time,” Dean admits in the dark.

“Yeah?” Sam asks, all warmed up inside where he’s always wondered.

“Uh huh, yeah. Guess it’s the soulmate prayer or whatever.”

“And they didn’t answer it, Dean, not back then in that hospital, not the angels, not Chuck, none of them. Dad was the one who did, what he sacrificed, he was the one who gave you back to me that time.”

“But we didn’t live the domestic tranquil life together after that either. But hey, it wouldn’t have really suited us too well back then. Thanks for not canceling the life we lived together and bringing us all the way back there.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam says, because that thank you means almost more than he can bear.

“I’m glad it means that much to you, what we’ve built together all these years that you’d give up your dream.”

“It was a long time ago, Dean. I was just a kid really, still dreaming of cramming us into the apple pie life any way I could come up with. And besides, what I’d wish for now is really different.”

“I think we can work it out going forward, don’t you?” Dean asks.

“Depends on what you mean by work it out,” Sam hedges.

“Assuming they really do leave us alone, and we’re free, what do you want to do? I mean the skies the limit then, right? Do you want to move out, go back to school, find a woman to settle down with, have two point five kids, etcetera. Basically, I guess I need to know what you’re thinking,” Dean says.

“Honestly, I haven’t been thinking about it, not yet. But I don’t really need to,” Sam says, not finishing his sentence because he’s not sure how much to lay on Dean. All of it or some of it?

“I mean, do you want to stop hunting and leave me or what?” Dean asks.

Sam sits up and turns the bedside light on. He searches Dean’s face, it’s so open right now, and there’s so much there. He sees the worry that’s always there that Sam will leave him again, he sees the love, and there’s something new that Sam can’t figure out. “I might want to stop hunting, sooner rather than later. But no, I don’t want to leave you. Not unless you want me to.”

“You know what you said before, in the kitchen. I’m sorry about freaking out on you,” Dean says.

“That’s okay, I know it was out of left field and on top of all the other stuff, it was too much to lay on you all at once over Chuck’s leftover pancakes.”

“You’re wrong about it being out of left field, I’ve known for a long time. But I was leaving it up to you to make a move or decide or whatever. I guess I’d just about resigned myself to things between us staying the same. I was trying all this time, trying really hard to have that be okay,” Dean says.

“Me too,” Sam says, completely okay with sounding so damn breathless. “So why’d you freak then?”

“What I freaked out about was getting everything I ever wanted. That kind of thing never works out for us, right? I mean, one of us will die or worse and I just can’t…” Dean trails off.

“Dean, I asked Chuck, and he said the rules didn’t apply to us as far as us—changing things between us.”

“Chuck gave us something like an incest exemption, huh? Fuck, Sammy, you are amazing, having the balls to ask him straight out like that,” Dean says.

“Well, he was telling me to be honest with you, about everything, and I wanted to be sure, in case you used it as a reason for us not to,” Sam confesses.

“Listen, you and me, we’re meant to be or whatever, right? By definition, soulmates and all that, we were made for each other, made to last, all of that,” Dean says. Easy like it’s nothing. Like it’s not earth-shattering to Sam to hear it from him.

“Right, all of that,” Sam finally manages to say.

“Like I said, I think we can work it out going forward,” Dean says, leaning across Sam to flip off the light.

Before he can though, Sam leans up to brush his lips across Dean’s. Not pushing for anything more, but just because he thinks he can get away with this for now.

Dean smiles against Sam’s lips and presses back a little harder, insistently licking his way into Sam’s mouth. Sam moans at the feeling and he can’t be bothered to care that Dean heard that, because his brother is still kissing him, breathless and hard now, pressing him back into the pillow. Sam’s glad the light is still on so that he can see the love and lust all over Dean’s face, so open and beautiful. He’s beyond gorgeous like this.

Dean sees him looking and ducks his head into Sam’s neck. “Thought you weren’t gonna make a move,” Dean laughs into Sam’s skin, pressing soft kisses that make Sam shiver and shake. Dean’s arms come around him and hold him in place, and Sam is happy to be contained. His brother kisses his way up his neck and whispers in his ear, “We’re gonna sleep on it though, okay?”

Instead of answering, Sam reaches over and clicks off the light as Dean rearranges their positions. He spoons up behind Sam and throws an arm around his waist. His breath tickles and warms the back of Sam’s neck and it’s suddenly the most perfect night of his life. He twines his hand into the hand that Dean has snuck under the pillow and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Sam.”

Sam struggles at first not to fall asleep, wanting to remember every second of this first night (hopefully it’s just the first and not only) spent in his brother’s bed. But it’s too peaceful and he feels so safe from the horrible things he’d just been dreaming about that he sinks into sleep anyway, faintly hoping to find Dean in there somewhere.

***

The next day just after they’ve finished having coffee, and Sam has had to confess to breaking the salt and pepper shakers, Amara and Chuck show up.

“So, I hear you bargained away my favor, Sam,” Amara says.

“I didn’t bargain it away, I just asked for what I really wanted, we worked it out, right, Chuck?” Sam asks.

Chuck nods and looks at Amara, a little nervously. “Yeah, we worked it out, just like I told you, Amara.”

“Well, I’m giving you a pass on that because I owe you, Sam. For trying to take Dean away from you. I didn’t understand, and now I do,” Amara says with a gracious nod of her head.

“Thanks, I accept your apology, Amara,” Sam says.

“So you guys are really leaving us alone from here on out, huh?” Dean asks.

“Indeed, that’s the agreement as I understand it, right, Chuck?” Amara asks, glaring down at Chuck.

Sam raises his eyebrows at Dean, not sure whether to be alarmed by the apparent discord.

“What, you mean Chuck isn’t ready to give up his playthings for good? What a surprise,” Dean says with a challenging glare.

“No, that’s not it, I’m not ready to say goodbye, and I wanted to give you something too, so I’m going to do this,” Chuck snaps his fingers.

Sam hears footsteps and almost falls over from the shock of who he sees in the doorway. Jack is whole and alive and walking into their kitchen.

“Why?” Sam asks Chuck in a panicked splutter.

“It wasn’t right, taking him away from you like that. It was a dick move for me to make just because you saw through my bluff. I want to say I’m sorry for putting all of you through that, but not for everything else that came before it,” Chuck says.

“Sam!” Jack yells, striding across the room and throwing himself into Sam’s arms.

Sam isn’t sure whether this is really real, or what but he soaks up the pure love pouring off of Jack. Dean joins them, enclosing them both in his strong arms, and Sam hasn’t ever bothered wanting anything as awesome as this ever before.

“Thank you, for bringing him back. I don’t know what to say besides that. Thank you,” Sam says over the top of Jack’s head, struggling to hold back a rush of grateful tears.

“And as long as you’re not messing with us, this doesn’t has to be goodbye,” Dean says.

Chuck’s smile widens, the beneficence dialing up to dangerous levels. Amara looks confused until Chuck whispers something to her.

“We’ll just say, see you later alligators,” Amara says with a little wave.

They both disappear, soundless, leaving no trace.

“You’re really here,” Dean says, hugging Jack to him tightly.

Sam wipes at his eyes seeing how happy his brother is.

“I’m really hungry,” Jack says in a muffle against Dean’s flannel.

Sam and Dean bust up laughing as Jack looks between them, and then joins in himself.

Later that night, Jack and Dean make dinner while Sam sits and watches them. He’s pretty sure he’s never been happier in his whole life. He keeps wanting to ask whether Dean is sure this is real, but he stops himself. What’s really real anyway in the scheme of things?

After dinner, they all watch a movie together in the game room. Jack falls asleep within the first half hour and Sam carries him to bed, Dean comes along to help Sam tuck him in.

“I guess coming back from the Empty wore him out,” Dean says in a whisper, smoothing the blankets over Jack’s sleeping form one last time.

“It’s so good having him here again, I can’t get over it,” Sam says as they close the door behind them.

“Hey, where you going?” Dean asks, grabbing Sam’s hand and tugging him towards his room. “I have the memory foam, we’re sleeping in there.”

“But…what about—“ Sam says.

“Sammy, if you say what about Jack, I may just have to get violent,” Dean growls, pinning Sam against the hallway wall. He pulls Sam down into a kiss that tells Sam everything. All of it, the aching, waiting, pining, years worth of it all in one kiss. Sam gives it right back and is soon pinning Dean against the opposite wall.

Dean finally breaks away and tugs Sam the rest of the way down the hall and into his room. He closes the door and locks it. Just in case.

Sam’s being pressed into the door, the only light coming through the grating at the bottom of it. And he wants to see. He stretches out an arm to flip on the light.

“Want to see you,” Sam says when Dean pauses.

Dean doesn’t answer, just goes back to Sam’s neck, biting and sucking his way down to that one spot that makes Sam’s knees practically buckle, his belly filled with a delicious swoop of desire. He manages to get his fingers working on Dean’s shirt buttons, pushing the shirt off and tugging up the hem of the t-shirt underneath. “Off, c’mon,” Sam says, sounding breathless even to himself.

With a chuckle Dean pulls his shirt off over his head and throws it to the side, his hands fall to his belt buckle. “Well, c’mon, you too.”

Sam rushes to take his shirts off, tossing them in the same direction as Dean’s had gone, but then he stops because Dean’s jeans are sliding down his hips, along with his briefs and he’s standing there naked and glorious. He turns their position around and presses Dean’s back into the door, runs his hands all over his warm skin, delighting in the sounds Dean makes. He slowly sinks to his knees, holding on to Dean the whole way down. He doesn’t ask for permission, because it’s there in the way Dean’s eyes hold his, the pleading of desire louder in them then any cry of passion.

The warmth of him, the softness overlaying the hardness, the scent of him, so earthy and salty tasting, he can’t help making an mmmm sound that Dean answers with a moan. Sam takes the tip of him in to his mouth suckles several times and then looks up at Dean through his eyelashes. His brother is already wrecked, lips red and puffy from their kisses, sweat pooling in the curve of his neck, eyes blazing with some combination of emotions that Sam doesn’t have time to sort through.

It’s when Dean’s hand lands on the back of his head, fingers gently lacing into his hair that Sam knows this is real, in his dreams of this moment, Dean had always pushed him away, protesting or disgusted. But now, in this moment when it’s happening for real, Dean is helping it happen, he’s pulling Sam in closer, helping him take more of Dean in his mouth, pressing past the resistance in his throat. Sam struggles to breath and suck and keep his teeth covered, it’s a skill he remembers, but hasn’t kept up. But this is different, Dean lets him go at the speed he can manage, at a speed that’s good for both of them. It’s so different from any other time that he’d done this.

Dean’s hips are moving now, he’s thrusting in small movements and it’s driving Sam mad, he doesn’t want Dean to hold back. He pulls off with an awesome pop sound and looks up at Dean again. “I want it, don’t hold back. And I want to hear it too.”

He hears a thud which is Dean knocking his head into the door, and then Dean’s hips move and he’s making these sounds that Sam gobbles up with everything else Dean feeds him. It’s awesome and Sam has lost track of the last time he had a real breath of air, but he doesn’t care, because Dean is everything he needs.

Dean’s hands are on his head, pulling him off, slow and gentle. “Sammy, goddamn that was—you’re so—fuck, c’mere.” Dean pulls him up from his kneeling position, and holds him until he catches his breath and recovers a bit. It’s so tender Sam almost cries in that moment. And then Dean’s hands are tugging at Sam’s belt buckle, and he gives up in frustration, slipping one hand past the waistband.

Then it’s Dean’s hands on him, stroking him slow and maddening. “You gotta get these off, Sammy, c’mon.”

Sam fumbles at his jeans, gets them unbuckled and slid down past where Dean is still working at him, that slow and steady pace making him feel like he’s burning up from the inside out. Dean’s other hand tugs Sam’s briefs down, pausing to stroke over the curve of Sam’s ass. Finally he’s as naked as Dean is, and Dean’s still got him in hand, leading him over to his bed, they fold down onto it, Dean arranging himself between Sam’s spread legs. Still stroking in that unending slow steady pace.

“You’re so wet for me,” Dean says, looking down at what his hand is doing. Sam can’t answer, can barely breath with how good it feels. All he can do is try to press his hips up in a few thrusts that Dean stops with an arm over his hips. Then Dean’s mouth is on him, sweet and hot and just as steady and slow. Sam’s going to lose his mind.

“Dean,” Sam finally says, trying to keep the begging whine out of his voice.

Dean looks up at him and Sam feels it, he’s going to come just from that look.

“I’m going to—“ Sam groans and comes, thick stripes land on Dean’s full red lips, on his closed eyes and it’s too much and Sam will never live it down and he doesn’t care, can’t care. He surges up and kisses Dean, deep and dirty, reveling in the taste of them together in their mouths. Dean and he trade wordless sighs, it’s a wonder they survived.

“I can’t believe you,” Dean chuckles as Sam licks his face clean.

“Hey, it’s basically been twenty years of foreplay, just wait until tomorrow, then you’ll see,” Sam says, reveling in the purring hum of pleasure still coming from his brother.

“Can’t wait to find out,” Dean says, voice heavy and sated.

Sam gets up and washes at the sink, brings back a warm washcloth and gently cleans Dean’s face the rest of the way. Dean pushes Sam’s hand down to his groin and Sam cleans him up there too. “Don’t want to hear you bitching in the morning,” Sam says, his voice raspy and husky with the workout  his throat got.

Dean’s no help, he’s almost passed out, so Sam arranges him under the covers with some effort and then climbs in where it’s warm. He arranges himself like Dean had last night, spooning up behind him, holding him with an arm around Dean’s waist. He sneaks his other arm under the pillow and Dean’s hand finds his. His heart thrills with the sleepy kiss Dean presses onto the back of his hand.

“So much more I wanted to—Sammy.”

“It’s okay, Dean, tomorrow, sleep now,” Sam answers, holding his brother a little bit tighter until they both fall asleep.

****

In the morning, it’s Jack who wakes them up, knocking at their door. (Their door)

“Hey guys, I’m making us pancakes,” Jack calls through the door after he discovers it’s locked.

“Great, start some coffee too, we’ll be there in a couple minutes,” Dean calls out, returning to what he was doing with his mouth.

Sam can’t answer, he’s too busy.

~The End~

*****