Fic: The Eye, The Star, and The Portal (Sam/Dean,Explicit) Part 2

[smalltrolven]

Back to Part 1

~()0O0()~

Before he could decide, Dean showed up, hovering in the kitchen doorway.

“This coffee fresh?” Dean asked, fumbling with the carafe and a mug.

“Yeah, just made it,” Sam said. “You feeling any better?” He gathered up the papers he’d been writing on and stowed them in a zip-up notebook. It seemed like a better idea not to discuss any of this with Dean right away and if he saw what Sam had been writing, there would be questions.

Dean made a noncommittal sort of growl that wasn’t really an answer. He was like this a lot of times in the morning before he’d had coffee. Sam watched as he settled himself at the table, one hand always holding the lower part of his belly, moving in a small circle like he was trying to soothe a stomach ache.

“Your stomach bothering you?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, a little I guess,” Dean said, not elaborating any further and closing his eyes as he gulped down his coffee.

“Dean, do you remember Eleanor Visyak?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Bobby’s buddy who turned out to be a Purgatory monster, what about her?” Dean asked, hand still rubbing on his lower belly.

“I was thinking about what she did, how she spent her life making sure a portal never got opened up again, and that was just one to Purgatory, not some other dimension or world like these gods are from. And what did it get her?”

“Crowley tortured her, Cas too, and then Cas killed her. She died in a filthy alley,” Dean said in a monotone.

“She took over the body of a young woman when she came over through the portal to Purgatory that Lovecraft opened, and spent her life aging like any normal human. And that whole time she was studying all the creatures of Eve, like the dragons and making sure another portal didn’t get opened up. She lived a human lifetime here,” Sam said.

“Apparently some of which she spent screwing around with Bobby,” Dean added with a tired smile.

Sam glanced at his brother’s hand, trying not to worry to see it still moving slowly over Dean's belly. The curve of the belly pooch seemed bigger than it had when they’d been in bed, probably because Dean was sitting instead of laying down. That’s what it had to be…right?

“Uh..let’s not focus on that for the moment, I’m bringing Eleanor up because I wonder if that’s what Yokoth is after. Does she want to be here as a human? Because it would be something different, like an experience she wants to have, or does she need a human host because she can’t be here in this world and affect anything if she’s non-corporeal?”

“I didn’t have a chance to ask her questions like that,” Dean said, back to a non-expressive monotone.

“I’m just wondering what her motivation would be, and what her physical limitations are here in our world, it might help me figure out how to help.”

“I think she just wants to devour everything here, because she’s eaten everything worth eating in her universe,” Dean said.

“You’re right, it’s probably just that simple, it makes sense since, according to the lore, she’s called the Star of Madness, Ravager of Galaxies, and Mother of Faceless Hordes,” Sam said.

“Star of Madness is fucking right,” Dean said with a grimace.

“Why?” Sam asked, in a voice gone quiet with worry.

“It was…when I was on that altar, and he was coming down, and she was holding me with her power or whatever, making me take him inside of myself, there was this—I’m not sure how to describe it, but it felt and tasted like madness. True madness, no thought, no plan, no conscious objective besides the impulse to feed forever.”

“When Glythur touched you, what happened?” Sam asked, hoping that Dean would actually answer.

“He…It, whatever, we were one for a second and I felt a jolt of some power go through me, it wasn’t electrical or like angel grace, it was something else. But the jolt went out past my body and then came back in and it settled inside me here,” Dean indicated his lower belly, which was definitely bigger now that Sam was really looking at it.

“Any idea what’s happening in there?” Sam asked, staring at Dean’s belly.

“I can’t…” Dean started, cutting himself off abruptly.

“Like I said before, I’ve got your back, Dean, whatever it takes,” Sam said, laying his hand over Dean’s, the one that wasn’t massaging his growing belly.

Dean stared at their hands on the table and turned his own over, sliding the skin of their palms together with a delicious drag that gave Sam thoughts that truly didn’t go with the moment. Dean’s hand ended up palm side up against Sam’s, and he slowly laced their fingers together, squeezing briefly.

Dean looked up at him, eyes heavy lidded and full of something Sam couldn’t define, “Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t answer, he just tried to show it on his face, that he meant his words with all his heart. Dean let go and stood up slowly, hand still on his belly, still moving in that slow circle.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, head back to bed for a while,” Dean said.

“I’ll come check on you in a bit,” Sam said.

Dean waved the other hand that wasn’t on his belly as he walked through the kitchen doorway to head towards the bathroom. Sam watched as Dean’s unoccupied hand found its way to his lower back massaging the muscles vigorously. All the signs were there, Dean had practically confirmed it just now, there was no more delay, Sam had to get the binding spell done so that they could both hold on until Marco and Ophelia arrived.

~()0O0()~

The spell that he’d written down from Marco’s instructions wasn’t too complicated and Sam was glad that he had everything on hand for once. It wasn’t the time to be driving around looking for some obscure but crucial spell ingredient. Sam checked in on Dean to make sure he was still sleeping. Dean was sleeping on his back, hand on his lower belly, moving even in his sleep.

“I hope you can forgive me, Dean,” Sam whispered, mostly to himself. He knew it was probably going too far, but he had to save Dean, and their world too. Just like always.

He locked the door to his room and set everything up on his desk, the brass bowl gleamed in the low light from the desk lamp. He undressed and washed himself with the purified water, saying the blessing three times as Marco had instructed. Sam threw a robe on as his skin dried, because it was always a little too cold in the bunker. He lit a match and set fire to a small branch of rosemary and tossed it into the bowl. The words of the spell that he’d memorized rolled off his tongue like so much sweet honey.

As the last of the ingredients caught fire in the bowl, he could feel the spell take hold of something deep inside him. It was in that place Cas had reached to check on his soul. He couldn’t see it with his eyes, but he could feel it as a bundle of strings flowed out from himself and undulated down the hall, searching for his brother. He felt it when the strings reached Dean, when they latched onto his soul, binding and tying them together even more thoroughly than they had been before. Soulmates, soul-bound, what next?

He stumbled a little as he felt Dean resist, felt some of the strings begin to untie themselves, but he concentrated and pushed them forward, connecting them as deeply as possible inside Dean. There was no more resistance and it all felt normal and fine after that. The strings were there, yes, but that felt right to Sam. He wondered whether Dean would notice in the state he was in today. A noise of pain hit him then, but he didn’t hear it, he felt it, somehow transmitted through the strings that bound them. He ran through the halls towards Dean’s room, and found Dean thrashing his way through another nightmare.

Even though he was only wearing a robe, Sam launched himself onto the bed, holding Dean down in the same way he had before. Pinning Dean with most of his body worked again and this time Dean woke up. His eyes cleared from the terror and as soon as he saw Sam he relaxed and almost smiled.

“Sammy?”

“It’s okay now, just go back to sleep, Dean,” Sam said, releasing his hold on Dean’s wrists.

Dean closed his eyes and relaxed into the curve of Sam’s body. There wasn’t much else for Sam to do, so he stayed, and tried to get some rest too. Dean woke up and threw up again in the trashcan, but he climbed right back into his bed, wriggling his way back under Sam.

When Sam woke up, he realized the robe he’d been wearing was most of the way off. his bare skin was against Dean’s in so many places he thought he’d burn up from the sheer pleasure of it.

“Don’t put it back on, I feel better when it’s your skin on mine. It’s like it’s helping me ignore her,” Dean said.

Sam looked down at him, trying not to overreact, but this was unexpected. It was a whole lot more than what Marco had warned him about. He smiled at Dean’s closed eyes, his relaxed face and just barely resisted brushing his lips against Dean’s. There was a big sigh that Dean released, his chest expanding and then deflating against Sam’s, it was then that Sam could feel his heartbeat. He let himself enjoy it, feeling Dean’s heart beating strong and sure against his own. This was his brother, here in his arms, just the way he’d always wanted, but he’d had to do a spell to get him here. It wasn’t right for him to enjoy it, no matter how much Dean said he needed the contact. It was all because of the spell, it wasn’t real. Sam was going to have think about dead kittens and the remnants of ghoul dinners to get his mind off of how good it felt.

Dean slept in his arms, while Sam thought about what was to come. This might be it, if Marco and Ophelia weren’t able to get the monster babies taken care of, he might lose Dean for good tomorrow. He tried to memorize everything about this, the weight of Dean against him, the warmth of his skin, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly. His hands traced Dean’s bare back, tracing the bumps and ridges of Dean’s many scars. It couldn’t end here and now. Sam wasn’t going to let it end like this. Not without Dean knowing how much he meant to him. Sam whispered promises and confessions into Dean’s unhearing ears for hours, spilling it all into the soul bond connection that they shared, hoping against hope that Dean would finally know.

They had never quantified what it was between them, never acted on it or had a single conversation, but they both knew it was there. Always had been, always would be. With the world-ending stakes back on the table, it seemed like such a small thing in comparison to hold Dean in bed, warm and soft against him, skin to skin as Dean requested to feel him, to feel he was real.

Sam kept nodding off, it was so warm and safe here in Dean’s bed, he let himself sleep, rationalizing that he’d need to be rested up for whatever happened tomorrow. A few times he woke up to Dean staring at him, or Dean’s hands moving over his skin. He tried his best not to let his arousal be too obvious. Sometimes Dean’s would be hard to miss when his hips would thrust and grind against Sam’s. If he let himself come, how would he ever be able to apologize to Dean? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t do that to his brother. The sighs and moans as Dean sleep humped his way to completion against him were maddening. He got up from the bed and warmed up a washcloth in the sink, bringing it back to clean his brother up. Dean thrashed and gritted his teeth, fingernails scratching at his belly again. Sam threw the washcloth across the room and into the sink, settling back on Dean to hold his wrists until the nightmare passed.

“You’re okay, Dean. I’ve got you, come out of it,” Sam said, lips brushing over the soft shell of Dean’s ear.

Dean’s head whipped back and forth, his skull cracking right into Sam’s nose. Sam reared back, holding his nose because of the intense flare of pain. Dean’s hand went right back to his own belly, holding the growing bulge and scratching at the skin. Sam placed his hand over Dean’s and flattened it to fit the new curve of Dean’s belly.

“Dean, you have to stop hurting yourself, please,” Sam said, stroking the side of Dean’s face with his unoccupied hand.

Dean’s hand twitched under his, but then it relaxed along with the rest of him. Sam heard a sigh and looked up to see Dean’s eyes were open and looking at where their hands were joined.

“You holding my hand, Sammy?” Dean asked with a pained chuckle, his head leaning into Sam’s hand against his cheek.

“You were hurting yourself again, scratching at your skin here,” Sam said, releasing his hold on Dean and sitting back.

Dean tried to look, but the curve of his belly was too big now from that angle. “Guess I’m gonna have to take your word on that.”

“I’m going to get some antibiotic for the scratches, don’t go anywhere,” Sam said, standing up from the bed. If he didn’t get out of here, out of this room, away from his needy beautiful mess of a brother on the bed, it was all going to go wrong.

“Thanks for all this, I know it’s shitty and weird,” Dean said.

“Weird yes, shitty no. It’s not a big deal, Dean,” Sam said, not meeting his eyes. He couldn’t because it was the biggest of big deals and they both knew it.

“No, I mean it, Sammy. You didn’t have to do all this, stay with me like this, and I’m just trying to say I appreciate it. That’s all,” Dean said, closing his eyes and seeming to fall right back into a deep sleep.

Sam leaned against the doorjamb and looked at him, nearly naked and beautiful on the bed, even with the nasty red scratches on his belly. “You’re welcome,” Sam said, turning to go get the promised antibiotic.

As he searched through the med kit they kept in the kitchen, he thought about the drink he had to make for both of them. Marco had given him the recipe, it would knock both of them out and make them hopefully sleep through the whole getting rid of the monster babies ritual. He remembered the conversation on the phone..

“We’ll text you when we’re an hour away, that’s when you guys need to drink the whole thing down,” Marco said.

“And it’s going to knock us out completely? Why do I have to take it too?” Sam asked.

“That’s the plan, yeah, you’ll both be out,” Ophelia said. “Pretty sure you don’t want to be awake for what’s going to be happening.”

“You need to take it too, Sam, because at that point you’re going to be soulbound to Dean, and he’ll need you. I’m guessing by then you’ll be his only anchor to this world. So drink the drink, and both of you lay down together somewhere easy for us to work.”

“And both skyclad, right, Marco?” Ophelia asked.

“Right, it’s part of the ceremony, and it’ll make it easier for us to see that you’re both still you,” Marco said.

“You mean there’s a chance one of us is going to turn into one of these gods?” Sam asked.

“We just want to make sure no one has any extra tentacles,” Ophelia said, so matter of factly that they all cracked up.

“I’m glad Dean’s going to be so out of it, he’d never go for this in a million years. But I’ll get it done,” Sam promised.

Sam was spreading the antibiotic cream over the deep furrows in Dean’s skin, and he had to move the waist band of his boxer briefs a little lower. Even though he’d just come half an hour before, he noticed Dean’s arousal. He spread the cream over the soft skin, and admired the neat treasure trail. Sam tried to think about anything but what came after, after the monster babies were dealt with, after Marco and Ophelia left them alone together. What would come then, how would he go back to not having this? Dean’s hips started to move, thrusting up against nothing. Sam finished applying the cream and stepped back from the bed.

It was one thing to let Dean rut against him like he had earlier, but this was—it was too much, too much like exactly what he’d always wanted.

“Sammy, need you,” Dean moaned, his eyes closed and his skin  flushed a beautiful pink all down his chest.

Sam took his robe off and laid down next to Dean, not sure how to arrange himself this time as he wasn’t pinning Dean down. Dean’s hands found him and pulled him over so that he was sprawled on top of Dean.

“Need to feel you on me, keeping me here. Don’t want to go with her, be with her, want to be with you, Sammy, just you,” Dean mumbled into Sam’s neck.

Sam shivered at the feeling of Dean’s lips moving against his sensitive skin. He groaned at the feeling of arousal that sped through his body like wildfire. “Dean, I”m here, it’s me. I’ve got you, you’re not going anywhere,” Sam promised, wishing like anything that he could back from what came next.

Dean’s hands were moving over Sam’s back, going lower and lower until they stopped on his ass. He pulled in hard then, so he had Sam where he needed him to thrust against. “Need you, Sammy, only you,” Dean panted into Sam’s neck.

Sam couldn’t help it, he thrust back into Dean, matching his movements and his speed, marveling out how in-sync they were. He tried his best to ignore the squirming movements he felt as Dean’s distended belly pressed against him. “You’ve got me, Dean, always,” Sam said into Dean’s ear.

Dean’s body jerked against him as he came with a groan that sounded like Sam’s name. Sam couldn’t tell because he was coming too. They were both still breathing hard when he felt Dean fall back into a deep sleep underneath him. He rolled off and looked up at the ceiling.

Would it be too much to wish for that Dean wouldn’t remember this? Or would it better somehow if he did? It was too confusing. Sam stumbled out of Dean’s room and into the bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash away the evidence. He wore only a robe in the kitchen as he prepared the knock-out drink in their blender. The sound of a text message coming through interrupted his cycle of thoughts about what had just happened between them, what it meant for their future, or if they even had one.

~()0O0()~

To Part 3