Fic: Sticking With You (Sam/Dean, R) Part 3

[smalltrolven]

Back to Part 2

****

The motel that night, even though it was perfectly cool outside was very hot. The heater was stuck on, and the window didn’t have a screen. They lounged on their bed after taking cool showers, clad only in their boxers.

Sam lay there on the bed, nearly asleep on his back, as Dean was propped up on his elbows, watching him. It should have felt weird, and usually he couldn’t fall asleep on his back, but he felt safe. There was something about having Dean right there, warm and real next to him on their bed that he couldn’t put his finger on. He could feel his brother’s gaze as a ghostly caress, as his attention moved over his face it felt like Dean was touching him ever so softly. He sighed with the feeling and opened his eyes.

Dean’s widened in surprise, he’d probably thought Sam was asleep, and then he smiled.

Sam returned his smile, looking up into his brother’s face, so familiar and dear shaded in the red lights of the vacancy sign outside. Even in the dim light, those green eyes shone, soft with feelings that were usually kept hidden. “You’re not going to sleep tonight or something?”

“Nah, I don’t want to miss anything,” Dean said.

“I don’t think anything’s after us,” Sam said. “I don’t think you need to be on alert.”

“Don’t want to miss anything about this,” Dean said, his eyes roaming over Sam face and down his bare chest.

“Oh,” Sam said as he realized what Dean meant.

“I was just watching you fall asleep, carry on,” Dean said.

Sam snuggled a little closer, so their hips were touching as well as their arms. Dean wrapped a foot around his ankle. Even though it was too warm in the room, it felt just right to be this close to Dean. “Now I don’t want to fall asleep and miss anything,” Sam said.

Dean chuckled and rubbed his face on Sam’s bare shoulder. “I’m not singing you any lullabies, dude.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Sam said.

Dean whacked him lightly on his bare stomach and then left his hand resting there. It felt nearly as hot as a brand, Sam felt the shape of Dean’s fingers and palm marking him as being permanently Dean’s. ‘And that would be okay by me,’ he thought, drifting off to sleep.

This whole new procedure was repeated two more times as they spent the next two nights on the road making their way back home. And it didn’t ever get awkward again which was a relief to both of them. Each night they were still getting a king bed, and sleeping better than ever without a whole big conversation or production. It was a new normal that didn’t feel all that new.

***

They arrived back home, driving through the outskirts of Lebanon towards the bunker. Dean turned into the side road that led around the back to the garage entrance. He pulled into the spot he always parked the Impala in, shut the engine off and let out a surprisingly loud whoop.

“Woohoo! We made it!”

Sam unbuckled his seat belt and started gathering up his stuff. “Man, it’s good to finally be home.”

Dean went still next to him, looking at Sam, long and hard with such a strange expression on his face.

“What?” Sam finally asked.

Dean cleared his throat and made a big production out of unbuckling his seat belt. “It makes me happy to hear you say that, Sammy.”

“That was some damn good driving, dude,” Sam said.

“And stellar navigating on your part,” Dean said.

They unpacked and retreated to their own spaces for a while. It felt so strange to Dean to be by himself for even that short amount of time. It was just very…noticeable. He figured a more than one hundred hour car trip would do that to a person.

Dinner was quiet because there was something in the air hanging unresolved between them. Neither of them knew what was going to happen after they’d finished eating. They weren’t on the road anymore. Usually they’d likely just separate and go off to their own rooms for the rest of the night. They did the dishes together and it still was quiet between them, just working in tandem like the well-oiled machine they were after all these years.

“I really liked it, being on the road with you again. It was a long trip, there and back to Alaska. Dude, I still can’t believe we drove all the way to freaking Alaska,” Sam said in the hallway as Dean clicked off the kitchen light.

“Yeah that was a hell of a lot of sitting, I need some quality horizontal time. Want to come watch something in my room?” Dean asked.

“Sure, I’ll go grab my laptop,” Sam said.

Dean tidied up his room, which at first struck him as a strange thing to be doing, until he realized what this was about. He was specifically picking up his socks (which Sam always always complained about in motel rooms), he was putting anything that was trash into the trashcan where it belonged (also a Sam bugaboo), and he was changing his sheets to the soft flannel ones (Sam always loved flannel).

“You ready for me?” Sam asked from the doorway where he stood, laptop in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other. The look on his face meant that he’d been watching, and that he knew that the tidying was yes indeed for him. “Looks nice in here.”

“Thanks, got used to keeping things picked up. Something about being back on the road with you,” Dean teased.

“We can bring these flannel sheets with us next time if you want,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow as Dean fluffed the pillows.

They watched something, but it didn’t matter what it was, they were mostly watching each other. Trading the whisky bottle back and forth, although Dean quit a lot earlier than Sam had expected he would.

The program or movie or whatever it was ended, and Sam started to get up from Dean’s bed, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Dean’s hand was on his forearm, so Sam stopped.

“Sammy, stay—would you mind? I just slept so much better the last couple of nights,” Dean admitted.

So Sam did.

And he did the night after that.

And the one after that.

Nothing exciting happened but a whole lot of good sleep and increasing intimacy and closeness.

****

“So…uh, is your soul feeling any better yet?” Dean asked over the sink full of breakfast dishes they were dealing with. No matter what was happening in their world, there were always always dishes to be done.

“Is that what all this was for? To get my soul all patched up?” Sam asked, drying the plate Dean handed him and trying not to look at his brother’s face. He didn’t want to know…didn’t want to think that it had all been yet another answer to a call of duty thing instead of something Dean had needed and wanted for himself too.

“No…uh, no of course not. It was more for me really. I noticed mine was feeling different this morning. Better, healed-up or something. I think having Michael in there so long had messed me up pretty badly. Maybe a lot more than I’d realized. And this time that we’ve been sticking together so closely lately has helped.”

“I’m so glad that it worked. I mean, I really had no idea that it was that bad for you,” Sam said, feeling bad that he hadn’t guessed that Dean was hiding his distress from him as usual.

“You’re magic, Sammy, I keep tellin’ you,” Dean said.

“Thanks to Rowena I am,” Sam said.

“No—nothing to do with her, you’ve always had it, in here,” Dean said, poking Sam’s chest right over his heart with a soapy finger.

Sam looked down at Dean’s finger resting on his flannel, the wet spot widening as Dean paused there. Sam’s hand came up to rest on Dean’s, holding it to him.

“It’s not just one of us, that’s what I keep trying to tell you. It’s the both of us, together,” Sam said.

“We’re magic, huh? Yeah, I could be down with that idea,” Dean said, turning his hand over so that they were palm to palm and he could interlace their fingers, the back of his hand still resting against Sam’s firm chest. Dean pulled their joined hands to rest right over Sam’s heart again. “It feels true, in here.”

Sam could feel it as his face changed in that moment, he could see it happen on Dean’s face as they both realized what that meant. He fell into him then, down into Dean’s eyes, his lips, his heat. It was everything he’d wanted and dreamed about and lusted for, but it was also something higher than that. More sublime, exquisite in its perfection. Dean was everything to him. And now maybe the reverse was true.

Dean pulled back from their embrace, his face alight with love and everything else that was coursing through both of them. He was breathing hard, like he was still holding himself back.

“Don’t hold back or anything, Dean. I want this, I want us, I always have,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you say anything, all these years, Sammy?” Dean asked, nearly breathless with surprise at being kissed so thoroughly.

Sam thought about it, the possibility of this occurring had never been in the category of being at all possible, it just hadn’t been worth the risk. “It never seemed…uh, how do I put this? I just never thought you wanted this too, and the risk—God, I just couldn’t ever bring myself to risk it all on such a foolish hope.”

“The slowest of slow-burns, kinda sums up our whole lives pretty much, right?” Dean said.

“Can we just get this over with?” Sam asked, frustrated with all the talking.

“No, no we can’t do that,” Dean said with an evil little smirk.

“What, you’re going to make me wait, or do you need some wooing or something?”

“No woo required, or waiting. We’re just not going to rush it, this isn’t something to get over with, not to me,” Dean said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, you’re right,” Sam said.

Dean started humming the tune of Slow Ride.

“Oh good lord, that’s not…” Sam said, cutting himself off to regain his control over Dean’s mouth. Dean’s humming stopped and turned into a long and low moan.

Sam started walking him backwards out of the kitchen and down the hall towards Dean’s room. He didn’t stop kissing Dean, moving his hands over his back and holding his head in position. Dean was holding on so tight, almost too tight, like he couldn’t help himself. Sam pressed him up against the wall outside Dean’s room, aligning their bodies together made it so obvious how much they both wanted this.

Sam pressed his hips forward so Dean couldn’t possibly miss how hard he was. “Want this, Dean, want you.”

The back of Dean’s head hit the wall behind him and he seemed to sway. Sam steadied him and kissed him deep and hard. Dean’s hands were locked around the back of Sam’s neck holding him in place. Sam’s hips started pulsing forward in small thrusts and Dean began to match him. They both groaned at how good it felt.

“Let’s actually get in my room,” Dean said, finally breaking away from their kiss, breathing hard. He reached behind him and opened the door, pulling Sam in and shutting it behind them.

The only light was the desk lamp, and the only sounds were their mouths moving together and the rustle of clothing being yanked off. Dean was more insistent now, he was the one arranging Sam just so on the flannel sheets, and Sam basked in the feeling of having all of Dean’s focus and attention. He couldn’t believe how different this Dean looked, his pale skin glowing with a dusky blush in the low light. It was mostly his face though, gone soft with so much emotion and all the desire that Sam felt reflected right back at him.

Dean’s hands were on his ankles, moving up his calves, running the wrong way against the hair on his legs. Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean’s, he felt like he was being devoured in the best sort of way possible, his whole body straining towards Dean’s as he lowered himself down.

As their bodies finally met, bare skin against skin for the first time all the way from their joined lips down to their curled together toes, Sam thought he must be dreaming. It was perfect, almost too perfect. They didn’t move or speak for a long moment that could have been hours, just stared into each other’s eyes, both of them searching and finding the yes that had always been there.

Dean finally closed his eyes, and Sam leaned up the few inches that had separated them to softly kiss his beautiful eyelashes. He’d always wanted to do that, Dean’s eyelashes had always been so tempting. Dean’s body shuddered at the feeling and Sam kissed them again. Dean ducked lower to kiss the curve of Sam’s neck, and it was Sam’s turn to shudder at the feeling.

“What do you want, Sammy?” Dean asked in a low murmur against Sam’s throat.

“Anything…mmm, everything,” Sam said, knowing it was too unclear, but he wasn’t thinking clearly, his body thrumming with the long-held desire. “Just want it now.”

Dean chuckled against his throat, and nipped him gently. Sam moaned, his body undulating under Dean’s, pressing their groins together. Dean bit him again, a little more insistently, right where Sam’s neck met his shoulder. Dean sucked hard, bringing blood nearer to the surface and laved the skin he held between his teeth with his tongue. Sam’s hands flailed at the feeling, both landing on Dean’s ass, pulling him in hard in response. Dean finally let go and kissed the spot gently.

Sam planted his feet and spread his knees open, Dean dropping into the space perfectly made for him. They slotted together like the matching spoons they were,   hardness against hardness, moving and thrusting against each other in a wild rut.  Dean pushed up on one arm and snaked the other between them, holding their hard cocks together, making a firm tunnel for them to both thrust into. Sam copied him, and the combined the slick and friction soon brought them over the edge.

Dean wiped his wet hand on Sam’s stomach, and Sam repaid the favor. They both laughed as Sam flipped them over so that he was on top. Dean looked up at him, exhilarated and so happy his eyes were crinkling at the edges. Sam leaned down and kissed each set of eye crinkles in turn. Dean sighed at the feeling, his hands running through Sam’s hair. Sam could feel himself practically purr at the sensation. Dean’s fingers tightened and tugged and Sam couldn’t help how he responded, thrusting helplessly into Dean.

“Ah hah, I’d always wondered,” Dean said, tugging again with a chuckle.

Sam frowned at being found out so easily.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Sammy,” Dean said. “Now I’m gonna get us something to clean up with.” He pushed Sam off and rolled out from under him, coming up to a stand next to the bed

Sam watched as Dean fooled with the sink in the corner, cleaning himself with a washcloth. His beautifully wide back and that perfectly shaped ass were too much to not comment on. “God-damn, your ass is perfect,” Sam said.

Dean laughed and cocked his hips back and forth, shaking his ass at Sam. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Glad you think so, yours ain’t so bad either.”

Sam watched as Dean came towards him, steaming washcloth in one hand. He bent over Sam and cleaned him carefully, his stomach, and partially hard cock, down over his balls and further towards his hole. Sam felt himself try to rally and harden back up again. Dean tossed the washcloth into the sink and tucked himself up next to Sam on the flannel sheets, pulling the blankets over them. He turned into Sam, kissing him deeply.

Sam returned the kiss, holding Dean against him, satisfied but still wanting more. “If this was your version of taking it slow, Dean, I’m all good.”

Dean kissed him again instead of answering, slow and thorough like he was memorizing how Sam tasted and felt. “Me too, Sammy."

They arranged themselves together just as they had all those nights on the road, fitting against one another as if they were always meant to.

Sam sighed, as he felt the weight of Dean’s head grow heavier as he fell asleep. This was how it was going to be. For the rest of their lives and whatever came afterwards.

****

The next afternoon, once they’d finally recovered from their initial shock at Jack being alive and standing in front of them, Sam and Dean migrated back towards each other to stand side by side. Jostling their shoulders together as usual, checking in by the most casual of touch.

We are like the best kind of magnets, Dean thought, watching Jack’s expression closely. The kid seemed confused at first, looking between them, then he broke into a huge smile, his eyes sparkling with happiness. It was wonderful to see, the best sort of homecoming present.

“You’re…you’re different,” Jack said, staring at Sam and then Dean and then back again.

****