Banner made by the awesome the_last_shadow , who also deserves massive thanks for her honesty and helping me out with the last few paragraphs!
savingfaith333 , added some more symbol drawing for you poppet! *hugs you*
For the second time in as many days, Sam wakes up with Dean's legs tangled with his and Dean's fingers in his hair. Possessively. But in a gentle way that makes Sam shift against his brother. Dean shifts with him, letting Sam closer than he has been in a while, subconsciously letting Sam in, behind the walls that Dean keeps well fortified with careful words and a closed off expression.
His fingers tighten in Sam's hair, catching on a knot, and that makes Sam move again, arching his neck backwards as Dean's mouth somehow finds its way to Sam's neck, hot, sleep pliant lips mouthing kisses along Sam's neck. Sam knows that Dean is almost awake, sleep not number one priority anymore, not when Sam's hand is trailing down Dean's side, playing on his ribs for a second before failing to his hips. Sam curls his fingers gently into Dean's skin, enjoying the noise that escapes Dean's throat. His eyes are still firmly closed, hair sticking up all over the place and Sam wants to run his fingers through it. But he knows he doesn't have the time. He only has a few minutes before Dean's instincts take over and he's fully awake, bitching about the lack of coffee and the fact that Sam woke him up. So Sam grips his cock gently in his hand, curling his long fingers around the length and Dean turns onto his back, arching into the touch. Sam sets the pace, slow but sure, making his brother hard. Sam can see the battle he is waging, trying to open his eyes, fighting the lethargy that last night and right now is causing. But Sam needs this, needs to make Dean know that Sam wants this, needs it like he needs to breathe. Needs to feel Dean inside him right now.
Sam throws one legs over Deans thighs gently, still being careful not to wake his brother, and he still keeps a firm but gentle grip on Dean's cock, rubbing his thumb over the head and smearing pre come down the shaft. Dean shudders, eyes still firmly closed, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Sam pushes a finger inside himself, grimacing slightly at the unfamiliar feeling of opening himself up. A few drunken fumblings and one particularly dark night when he and Jess had had a monumental argument and Dean had ignored his call, Sam had gotten so drunk that he'd let some nameless faceless guy take him behind some equally nameless bar. Its been a while but Sam still remembers what to do. He shifts upwards and positions himself over Dean and slowly lowers himself onto him. Dean's eyes fly open in a panic and he grips Sam's hips.
“Sammy.” He gasps as Sam slides all the way down. Dean's eyes roll backwards for a second savouring the feel of Sam. Sam bites his own lips, cos Jesus Christ it hurts, but its delicious at the same time, he needs this, needs the pain to keep him grounded because he honestly thinks he still might be dreaming, that he didn't feel Dean come undone last night. Dean grips harder on his hips.
“Jesus fucking Christ Sammy. What are you doing to me?” Dean whispers, reminiscent of a few days ago when Sam first straddled Dean in a way that was far from brotherly. This time though its ragged and almost desperate, almost rhetorical. Sam grimaces and leans forward noticing the way Dean shudders at the change of position.
“Just...” Sam says, begins, because he can't voice what he needs right now. For some reasons he needs to feel Dean, needs to make sure his brother is still there and isn't going to have freak out, an older brother “I should be protecting you” freak out. Because Sam knows its coming, can feel it in his bones. Sam was honestly expecting himself to have a Sam Winchester patented freak out. But he can't feel more at ease with this. Like he and Dean were meant for this. Worked towards this their wholes lives. Dean's fingers were meant to be digging into his hips. His name was meant to be pulled from so deep within Dean it sounds like a desperate prayer on his lips. What Sam wants to say is “Just let me feel you Dean, I need it.” But he starts and ends with “just”. Dean seems to get it though, his eyes slipping closed as Sam lifts himself slightly, hissing in a breath at the friction and pain.
He moves back down quickly and hard, ignoring the pain and loving it at the same time, and loving the way Dean's eyes roll backwards again.
“Holy shit Sam.” Dean breathes and bucks his hips upwards, meeting Sam's down thrust. Sam grimaces again, but it's Dean, Dean inside him. Dean who's fingers are digging in hard enough to bruise right now, holding Sam still. Sam ignores the death grip Dean has on his hips and draws himself upwards again and Dean shudders, but meets Sam's downwards movement with a snap of his hips that sends a jolt of pleasure up Sam's spine.
“Need to know you want this.” Sam mutters, breath coming in fast gasps as Dean manages to lift them both and practically throws Sam down on the bed. Dean growls low in his throat and grips Sam's arms, thrusting into him with abandon and a half wild look on his face, fully awake now even if he's still not fully concious of what he's doing, even if he's just running on pure base instinct right now.
“Want this Sammy. God I want this.” He murmurs back with a roll of his hips that draws a noise out of Sam that he will deny to his dying day, desperate and needy.
“Harder.” Sam manages to breathe out, even though it burns, and he's sure he wont be able to walk straight for a week, let alone sit down, but he needs this, needs to know that Dean needs this. Sam wraps his legs around Dean's waist and draws himself up, hips arching off the bed. He's now running on instinct too. Reverting to training, to reading Dean without actually needing to concentrate on doing it. Knowing his brother almost too well, but knowing him in a different way now. Knowing that the fingers around his arms are there to ground Dean as much as hold Sam in place. Knowing that the way Dean's hips stutter means he's almost there.
Sam angles his hips again and Dean hits something inside him which has him biting back a desperate scream. Dean seems to sense it, possibly can feel Sam rock hard between their sweat slick bodies and opens his eyes, staring straight at Sam, eyes burning with intensity as his hips stutter again and he shudders, coming so hard inside Sam that Sam can almost taste it. Dean closes his eyes again and drags in a stuttering breath, unwraps a hand from Sam's arm and wraps it around his cock. Dean leans down and kisses Sam as he jacks Sam once, twice, tongue curling inside Sam's mouth, tasting him, and then Sam's coming too.
“Not that I am complaining Sammy, but what the hell bought that on?” Dean says as he draws out of Sam. Sam bites his lip at the movement and Dean looks worried and concerned. “Jesus, did I hurt you?” He asks, going immediately into Big Brother mode. Sam shakes his head once, still a little dazed at the desperation that took over him and made him fuck his brother awake.
“What's going on in that freaky head of yours Sam?” Dean asks, far too awake and compus mentus right now for his own good, whilst Sam can hardly breathe let alone form coherent sentences.
“Just...” Sam begins again but trails off, unable to voice what the hell was going through his head. Dean settles himself next to him, leaning on one elbow and trailing his fingers over Sam's chest, alternating between feather light touches and almost scratches that Sam recognises as ancient runes, Dean stops mid wunjo, joy, and catches Sam gaze.
“Yeah Sam. I get it. I do. We're fucked up. And we're gonna go to hell. But we might as well enjoy the ride right? Cos so help me god I want this.” Dean looks more serious and sure than he has looked in a long time. He finishes drawing wunjo and starts on another. Its only when he finishes and suppresses a smirk that Sam realises what he's drawn.
“Thurisaz? Seriously?” Sam feigns indignation. The smirk that Dean is suppressing manages to break out across his face.
“Well you are kinda giant-esque Sammy.” Dean curls his fingers into Sam skin, still grinning down at him. Sam is tired and sore but he can't help but smile back at the honest to goodness real smile that Dean is throwing at him.
“Fuck you.” He tries, but there is no harshness behind the words and he's grinning like a fool when Dean leans down and kisses him again, fingers sliding up his chest and throat and stroking behind Sam's ear, ownership and tenderness obvious in the touch. Sam knows the look on Dean's face though, knows what is coming.
“If you say 'just did', I swear to god we are never doing that again.” Dean furrows his brow for a second before grinning back at Sam. It doesn't seem strange that they can still bicker like kids, not even when Dean's fingers are still stroking behind his ear.
“Come on Sam, that would have been funny.” He protests. Sam cocks an eyebrow at him and Dean pushes a finger into the pressure point behind Sam's ear. Sam yelps and jumps away from him.
“You're such a girl, Samantha.” Dean laughs, a full bodied chuckle that starts low in his stomach, bubbling up through his throat and erupts from his mouth in a way that makes Sam's stomach hurt. Dean doesn't laugh enough, carrying the world and its troubles on his shoulders. Right then and there, Sam makes mental note to make Dean laugh more often. Dean is still laughing when Sam climbs off the bed.
“You're a fucking jerk, you know that?” He says, smiling despite himself. Dean nods once, still laughing.
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” Dean flashes a grin at Sam. Sam rolls his eyes.