eachdraidhean (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eachdraidhean) wrote2008-03-22 07:04 pm
eachdraidhean) wrote2008-03-22 07:04 pm
Entry tags:
When Everything's Made To Be Broken
Title: When Everything's Made To Be Broken
Author: Delanach
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Warnings: Incest, spoilers up to Season 3 episode 11, Mystery Spot
Notes: This first part was my first Supernatural fic :) Set Between Mystery Spot and Jus in Bello. When Dean sees how Sam has been touched by the events in Mystery Spot, he insists that they take a week away from hunting and take a break, only it's not where Sam assumes they are going. This is the second in a set of nine fics which cover that week.
Summary: After Mystery Spot, Sam decides to take what he's wanted for a long time.
There was an ache in Sam’s heart as he paused at the door to the motel room and looked back at the mussed up bed. It had been his home for so many Tuesdays, but now that felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime he’d lived without Dean.
For Dean, Wednesday had followed Tuesday which had followed Monday, end of story. Sure, they’d had a run in with the trickster, and Dean didn’t doubt what Sam had been through, given the even darker than usual circles under his eyes and the haunted look on his face which Dean put down to seeing him die so many times. Having seen Sammy die only once, Dean could sympathise. But he was having a hard time getting his head around how different their experiences had been.
Sam hardly took his eyes off Dean all through the journey away from Broward County. He didn’t care where they were going, as long as it was away from there, and in a different direction to the one he’d headed the first time he’d left. So they drove north, only stopping for gas and to eat breakfast once they had put enough miles between them and the diner that had become a kind of purgatory for Sam for him to feel comfortable. Even then he only sipped on a coffee while Dean tucked into the special, which thankfully wasn’t Pig in a Poke.
Back on the road, hours of intense scrutiny as Sam continued to watch him began to freak Dean out, and he finally snapped.
“Dude, quit staring at me.”
He’d expected Sam’s puppy dog face with the big eyes which always managed to send him on a guilt trip but the stony, sullen glare he got instead worried him and he went back to concentrating on the road as he drove, shooting Sam the occasional half smile.
Just after dark, they checked in to the first motel they hit. Checked in together since Sam still wouldn’t let Dean out of his sight which had been all kinds of fun when Dean had needed to take a piss earlier. Dean pressed the door key into Sam’s hand.
“I’ll be right in.”
Sam tried to protest but Dean glared at him and pushed him towards the door as he went to get their packs out of the car. He stood for a moment on his own and pushed away the urge to take off, find the nearest bar and get wasted. Sam needed him and from what he’d seen today, it would be a while before he could do anything on his own again. He sighed and wandered into the room to find Sam pacing, agitation showing in the way his fists were clenching and unclenching at his side as he moved.
“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asked warily, kicking the door closed behind him. As it slammed, Sam’s head snapped round and Dean slowly put the packs down, concerned at the wild look in his brother’s eyes.
“Sam?” Dean took a step back as Sam stalked towards him, covering the room fast on those long legs of his. Dean’s mind raced. It couldn’t be possession; the tats protected them both from that, so what the hell? Sam had been stuck to him like glue all day ... unless it wasn’t Sam at all. Dean’s mind raced. Or maybe it was Sam, and all those Tuesdays had left him unhinged enough to give in to all that destiny crap.
“Dean.” The possessive way his name was growled out made Dean panic and he stumbled back against the door, fumbling behind him for the handle with one hand and in his jacket with the other, searching for the flask of holy water his always kept in his pocket.
“Woah, Sammy, I know you’ve had a rough time, but let’s talk about it okay?”
But then Sam was on him, pressing him up against the door, hard, and Dean didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t Sammy’s mouth slamming against his.
Dean wrenched away from Sam’s panting heavily.
“Tell me it’s you in there?”
“It’s me, Dean.” Sam growled before he descended on Dean’s mouth again.
The focus in Sam’s eyes was almost scary, but Dean went with it. This was Sam and whatever he needed, Dean would give him. He always had and if Sam needed this, whatever this was, Dean was willing to go with it. Besides, it turned out that Sam was such good a kisser, Dean would have had a hard time to pushing him away, brother or not.
Sam’s long fingers pushed Dean’s jacket roughly off his shoulders and Dean aided the process by wriggling around until it fell to the floor.
Pinning Dean with his hips, his mouth still locked in place, Sam made quick work of Dean’s shirt and pulled Dean’s tee up over his stomach to his chest, fingers scraping over skin as he went and Dean bucked and trembled at the touch.
By necessity, Sam had to stop kissing Dean to pull the cotton over his head and off and Dean whimpered at the loss.
He dug his hands into Sammy’s unruly hair and held him back for a moment, searching his eyes for a hint, a clue, as to why his baby brother had him pinned to a door while he ground an impressive erection into his hip. Yet another thing about his brother that was oversized, and Dean shuddered at the thought. But still he held him back, needing to make sure that Sam knew what he was doing.
“Sammy?
“Need this, need you.” There was something broken in Sam’s voice, hidden behind the intensity and Dean nodded.
“Anything you need bro.”
He let Sammy go and he was on him again, mouth mauling Dean’s before slipping down to his jaw and further, kissing, tasting and nipping at his neck.
Dean tried to get his brother’s jacket off, but the force of nature that Sam had become was too strong, and kept pushing Dean back.
Sam’s fingers worked the button of Dean’s jeans open, eased the zipper down and pushed them and his boxers over his hips. Dean’s now painfully hard cock thumped back against his stomach, so hard that Dean thought it must have left a bruise.
Panic rose again, not the get me out of here kind of panic, but more the holy crap, I’m almost naked while my brother mauls me and he’s still got all his clothes on kind of panic.
Fair was fair, after all.
“Sammy, dude, slow down, you’ve still got your jacket on.”
Sam pulled back fractionally and gazed at Dean with eyes full of emotions Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen before. Seconds later, his jacket was on the floor next to Dean’s and Dean took the opportunity to get rid of his boots, and unfastened Sam’s while he was down there, leaving no more hindrances to whatever his brother needed. Sam’s shirts, all three of them, were quickly added to the growing pile of discarded clothing, then his jeans and shit, Dean wondered, when had Sam started going commando?
Before Dean had a chance to admire Sam’s awesome shoulders, which he sneakily did every time Sam wandered through from the shower with a towel around his waist, Sam wrapped Dean up in his arms and if Dean had been a girl, he probably would have swooned from the pleasure of being skin to skin with Sam like that, even if they were still upright. But he wasn’t a girl, so he did some wrapping of his own and tangled his fingers back into Sam’s hair, pulling him closer.
Dean would later swear, if anyone had known to ask him, that he couldn’t remember how they got to the bed, only that they were suddenly there, in a tangled heap. Their hands grasped and clawed at each other and Sam rolled on top of him, pinning him to the bed with the same determination he’d pinned him to the door. His erection was snug against Dean’s, both trapped between their bodies, the friction as they ground against each other bordering on the delicious. Dean was so hard he ached and Sam moved as if they were fucking, his cock slipsliding against Dean’s, against his taut abdomen, hips grinding, thrusting, the sensations fast becoming unbearable.
“Sammy!” It came out more of a sob than Dean would have been comfortable with had he been with anyone else, but Sam was fast breaking down barriers between them and Dean wasn’t about to start holding back, not now.
Sam didn’t stop, even as Dean’s hands became frantic, the familiar undeniable urge building in him and Dean’s wild eyes locked with his brother’s as he came, writhing and bucking against Sammy, crying out his name.
Feeling Dean’s come, hot and wet on his belly, and seeing him let go so completely pushed Sam over the edge and the undeniable urge that had compelled him to take what he wanted, what he needed, slammed into him with full force. He bit down on Dean’s shoulder to stop from howling as his cock pulsed, come spurting between them, mingling with Dean’s. The intensity of his orgasm drained him and leaving him breathless and shaking until familiar hands petted his skin, pulling him down to the bed and familiar scents surrounded him as Dean held him close and used one of the sheets to clean them up.
“I want more.” Sam spoke quietly as soon as he regained the power of speech, but with a steel edge of determination in his voice and Dean placed a kiss on his sweat damp forehead.
“Oookay, not gonna object to that, but I gotta know why, Sammy. How many Tuesdays did you have again?”
“102.”
Dean was mulling over how he would have felt, having gone through all that, when Sam mumbled something against his chest.
“This isn’t my first Wednesday.”
Dean tightened his hold on his brother and let him continue in his own time.
“The first time, you walked down to the parking lot and that guy from the diner, Cal, he shot you.”
Sam’s fingers found the tattoo on Dean’s chest and traced it.
“But I didn’t wake up when you died. Kept thinking I would, every morning I’d expect you to be there, waking me up and being a jerk and squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle, but you never were. You were always still dead and there was always just silence.”
Sam’s shoulders began to shake and Dean held him as he sobbed. His jaw was set and silently, he was already plotting revenge on the fucking trickster. He waited until Sam had cried himself out before asking.
“How long?”
“Months.”
“Months?” Dean’s hands stilled for the first time since they’d walked through the door, shock cutting deep.
Sam nodded and raised his head. Dean’s fingers automatically brushed at the moisture lingering on his cheeks, just like he had when Sam was a kid and something had upset him.
“And every night I fell asleep regretting that I’d never done this. I’m sorry if ...”
“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. This is you and me, no-one else’s business and I’m glad, Sammy.”
He pulled Sam towards him and kissed him, a soft lingering kiss with tiny little cat licks to Sam’s lips that left his brother wide eyed.
“I don’t know if I’d have ever had the guts.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Hell no. Do I look as if I mind?”
Sam grew bold again and fingered Dean’s left nipple until it rose to a hard little peak. Dean gasped as little bolts of lightning shot from his nipple to his groin.
“So you want more?”
“Yeah, a whole lot more, but no more sleeping in single beds. From now on I want this every night and single beds suck.” As if to make his point, he shifted over to give Sam more room to sprawl.
Sam grinned, wide and happy as Dean carded his fingers through Sam’s soft dark hair. If he’d known it was that easy to get Sam to grin like a Cheshire cat, Dean thought, he would have jumped him years ago.
Sam slowly slipped down Dean’s body to run his tongue around his brother’s belly button. Dean’s reviving cock jerked and bumped against Sam’s cheek and Dean stared, forgetting how to breathe, as Sam flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of it and into the slit.
“Jesus, Sammy!”
“Want me to stop?” Sam asked, with an innocent note in his voice, taking his mouth away.
“No ... no ...” Dean shook his head and Sam smiled as he wrapped his lips around the head of Dean’s cock again, suckling on it. “Don’t stop ... so fucking hot.” Dean wasn’t sure himself if he was referring to the molten heat of Sam’s mouth or the sight of his brother’s sweet mouth wrapped around his dick. Probably both, but he was rapidly becoming too incoherent to think about it, or anything else for that matter.
Sam sucked Dean’s shaft from tip to root and back again, swirling his tongue around it and grazing it with his teeth and Dean’s spine melted. One hand clenched in the bedclothes at his side, the other in Sam’s hair and there was a low keening sound in his throat as Sam worked him. Sam reached up to tug and twist Dean’s left nipple and Dean arched off the bed, panting. He thrust up, an involuntary movement which he tried to control but Sam didn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact he encouraged more, scraping his nails over Dean’s chest until Dean was writhing again and fucking Sam’s mouth shamelessly until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Sam growled around him, and that was Dean’s undoing, that and the intensely possessive look in Sam’s eyes as he grabbed Dean’s hips and swallowed down every last drop of come as Dean pumped into his mouth.
Dean shuddered as he lay there and reached down for Sam, pulling him back up the bed to hold him close.
“Where did you learn to ... never mind, I don’t need to know right now.”
Sam grinned and licked at Dean’s pliant lips as his older brother groaned and parted them to grant Sam access, tasting himself on Sam's mouth.
Dean began to press Sam back against the bed, wanting to return the favour, but Sam shook his head and prodded Dean to turn over so he could snuggle up behind him. Yeah, Dean thought, snuggle, and that was fine with him too.
“Tired.” Sam yawned, and wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist, curling around his back protectively, pulling him close and snuffling in his ear and Dean realised that even with everything else that had happened, until that moment, he’d never really experienced pure bliss.
“Mine.” Sam whispered against Dean’s neck.
“Always have been.” Dean agreed sleepily.
Next Chapter ...
hit counter
Author: Delanach
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Warnings: Incest, spoilers up to Season 3 episode 11, Mystery Spot
Notes: This first part was my first Supernatural fic :) Set Between Mystery Spot and Jus in Bello. When Dean sees how Sam has been touched by the events in Mystery Spot, he insists that they take a week away from hunting and take a break, only it's not where Sam assumes they are going. This is the second in a set of nine fics which cover that week.
Summary: After Mystery Spot, Sam decides to take what he's wanted for a long time.
There was an ache in Sam’s heart as he paused at the door to the motel room and looked back at the mussed up bed. It had been his home for so many Tuesdays, but now that felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime he’d lived without Dean.
For Dean, Wednesday had followed Tuesday which had followed Monday, end of story. Sure, they’d had a run in with the trickster, and Dean didn’t doubt what Sam had been through, given the even darker than usual circles under his eyes and the haunted look on his face which Dean put down to seeing him die so many times. Having seen Sammy die only once, Dean could sympathise. But he was having a hard time getting his head around how different their experiences had been.
Sam hardly took his eyes off Dean all through the journey away from Broward County. He didn’t care where they were going, as long as it was away from there, and in a different direction to the one he’d headed the first time he’d left. So they drove north, only stopping for gas and to eat breakfast once they had put enough miles between them and the diner that had become a kind of purgatory for Sam for him to feel comfortable. Even then he only sipped on a coffee while Dean tucked into the special, which thankfully wasn’t Pig in a Poke.
Back on the road, hours of intense scrutiny as Sam continued to watch him began to freak Dean out, and he finally snapped.
“Dude, quit staring at me.”
He’d expected Sam’s puppy dog face with the big eyes which always managed to send him on a guilt trip but the stony, sullen glare he got instead worried him and he went back to concentrating on the road as he drove, shooting Sam the occasional half smile.
Just after dark, they checked in to the first motel they hit. Checked in together since Sam still wouldn’t let Dean out of his sight which had been all kinds of fun when Dean had needed to take a piss earlier. Dean pressed the door key into Sam’s hand.
“I’ll be right in.”
Sam tried to protest but Dean glared at him and pushed him towards the door as he went to get their packs out of the car. He stood for a moment on his own and pushed away the urge to take off, find the nearest bar and get wasted. Sam needed him and from what he’d seen today, it would be a while before he could do anything on his own again. He sighed and wandered into the room to find Sam pacing, agitation showing in the way his fists were clenching and unclenching at his side as he moved.
“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asked warily, kicking the door closed behind him. As it slammed, Sam’s head snapped round and Dean slowly put the packs down, concerned at the wild look in his brother’s eyes.
“Sam?” Dean took a step back as Sam stalked towards him, covering the room fast on those long legs of his. Dean’s mind raced. It couldn’t be possession; the tats protected them both from that, so what the hell? Sam had been stuck to him like glue all day ... unless it wasn’t Sam at all. Dean’s mind raced. Or maybe it was Sam, and all those Tuesdays had left him unhinged enough to give in to all that destiny crap.
“Dean.” The possessive way his name was growled out made Dean panic and he stumbled back against the door, fumbling behind him for the handle with one hand and in his jacket with the other, searching for the flask of holy water his always kept in his pocket.
“Woah, Sammy, I know you’ve had a rough time, but let’s talk about it okay?”
But then Sam was on him, pressing him up against the door, hard, and Dean didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t Sammy’s mouth slamming against his.
Dean wrenched away from Sam’s panting heavily.
“Tell me it’s you in there?”
“It’s me, Dean.” Sam growled before he descended on Dean’s mouth again.
The focus in Sam’s eyes was almost scary, but Dean went with it. This was Sam and whatever he needed, Dean would give him. He always had and if Sam needed this, whatever this was, Dean was willing to go with it. Besides, it turned out that Sam was such good a kisser, Dean would have had a hard time to pushing him away, brother or not.
Sam’s long fingers pushed Dean’s jacket roughly off his shoulders and Dean aided the process by wriggling around until it fell to the floor.
Pinning Dean with his hips, his mouth still locked in place, Sam made quick work of Dean’s shirt and pulled Dean’s tee up over his stomach to his chest, fingers scraping over skin as he went and Dean bucked and trembled at the touch.
By necessity, Sam had to stop kissing Dean to pull the cotton over his head and off and Dean whimpered at the loss.
He dug his hands into Sammy’s unruly hair and held him back for a moment, searching his eyes for a hint, a clue, as to why his baby brother had him pinned to a door while he ground an impressive erection into his hip. Yet another thing about his brother that was oversized, and Dean shuddered at the thought. But still he held him back, needing to make sure that Sam knew what he was doing.
“Sammy?
“Need this, need you.” There was something broken in Sam’s voice, hidden behind the intensity and Dean nodded.
“Anything you need bro.”
He let Sammy go and he was on him again, mouth mauling Dean’s before slipping down to his jaw and further, kissing, tasting and nipping at his neck.
Dean tried to get his brother’s jacket off, but the force of nature that Sam had become was too strong, and kept pushing Dean back.
Sam’s fingers worked the button of Dean’s jeans open, eased the zipper down and pushed them and his boxers over his hips. Dean’s now painfully hard cock thumped back against his stomach, so hard that Dean thought it must have left a bruise.
Panic rose again, not the get me out of here kind of panic, but more the holy crap, I’m almost naked while my brother mauls me and he’s still got all his clothes on kind of panic.
Fair was fair, after all.
“Sammy, dude, slow down, you’ve still got your jacket on.”
Sam pulled back fractionally and gazed at Dean with eyes full of emotions Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen before. Seconds later, his jacket was on the floor next to Dean’s and Dean took the opportunity to get rid of his boots, and unfastened Sam’s while he was down there, leaving no more hindrances to whatever his brother needed. Sam’s shirts, all three of them, were quickly added to the growing pile of discarded clothing, then his jeans and shit, Dean wondered, when had Sam started going commando?
Before Dean had a chance to admire Sam’s awesome shoulders, which he sneakily did every time Sam wandered through from the shower with a towel around his waist, Sam wrapped Dean up in his arms and if Dean had been a girl, he probably would have swooned from the pleasure of being skin to skin with Sam like that, even if they were still upright. But he wasn’t a girl, so he did some wrapping of his own and tangled his fingers back into Sam’s hair, pulling him closer.
Dean would later swear, if anyone had known to ask him, that he couldn’t remember how they got to the bed, only that they were suddenly there, in a tangled heap. Their hands grasped and clawed at each other and Sam rolled on top of him, pinning him to the bed with the same determination he’d pinned him to the door. His erection was snug against Dean’s, both trapped between their bodies, the friction as they ground against each other bordering on the delicious. Dean was so hard he ached and Sam moved as if they were fucking, his cock slipsliding against Dean’s, against his taut abdomen, hips grinding, thrusting, the sensations fast becoming unbearable.
“Sammy!” It came out more of a sob than Dean would have been comfortable with had he been with anyone else, but Sam was fast breaking down barriers between them and Dean wasn’t about to start holding back, not now.
Sam didn’t stop, even as Dean’s hands became frantic, the familiar undeniable urge building in him and Dean’s wild eyes locked with his brother’s as he came, writhing and bucking against Sammy, crying out his name.
Feeling Dean’s come, hot and wet on his belly, and seeing him let go so completely pushed Sam over the edge and the undeniable urge that had compelled him to take what he wanted, what he needed, slammed into him with full force. He bit down on Dean’s shoulder to stop from howling as his cock pulsed, come spurting between them, mingling with Dean’s. The intensity of his orgasm drained him and leaving him breathless and shaking until familiar hands petted his skin, pulling him down to the bed and familiar scents surrounded him as Dean held him close and used one of the sheets to clean them up.
“I want more.” Sam spoke quietly as soon as he regained the power of speech, but with a steel edge of determination in his voice and Dean placed a kiss on his sweat damp forehead.
“Oookay, not gonna object to that, but I gotta know why, Sammy. How many Tuesdays did you have again?”
“102.”
Dean was mulling over how he would have felt, having gone through all that, when Sam mumbled something against his chest.
“This isn’t my first Wednesday.”
Dean tightened his hold on his brother and let him continue in his own time.
“The first time, you walked down to the parking lot and that guy from the diner, Cal, he shot you.”
Sam’s fingers found the tattoo on Dean’s chest and traced it.
“But I didn’t wake up when you died. Kept thinking I would, every morning I’d expect you to be there, waking me up and being a jerk and squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle, but you never were. You were always still dead and there was always just silence.”
Sam’s shoulders began to shake and Dean held him as he sobbed. His jaw was set and silently, he was already plotting revenge on the fucking trickster. He waited until Sam had cried himself out before asking.
“How long?”
“Months.”
“Months?” Dean’s hands stilled for the first time since they’d walked through the door, shock cutting deep.
Sam nodded and raised his head. Dean’s fingers automatically brushed at the moisture lingering on his cheeks, just like he had when Sam was a kid and something had upset him.
“And every night I fell asleep regretting that I’d never done this. I’m sorry if ...”
“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. This is you and me, no-one else’s business and I’m glad, Sammy.”
He pulled Sam towards him and kissed him, a soft lingering kiss with tiny little cat licks to Sam’s lips that left his brother wide eyed.
“I don’t know if I’d have ever had the guts.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Hell no. Do I look as if I mind?”
Sam grew bold again and fingered Dean’s left nipple until it rose to a hard little peak. Dean gasped as little bolts of lightning shot from his nipple to his groin.
“So you want more?”
“Yeah, a whole lot more, but no more sleeping in single beds. From now on I want this every night and single beds suck.” As if to make his point, he shifted over to give Sam more room to sprawl.
Sam grinned, wide and happy as Dean carded his fingers through Sam’s soft dark hair. If he’d known it was that easy to get Sam to grin like a Cheshire cat, Dean thought, he would have jumped him years ago.
Sam slowly slipped down Dean’s body to run his tongue around his brother’s belly button. Dean’s reviving cock jerked and bumped against Sam’s cheek and Dean stared, forgetting how to breathe, as Sam flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of it and into the slit.
“Jesus, Sammy!”
“Want me to stop?” Sam asked, with an innocent note in his voice, taking his mouth away.
“No ... no ...” Dean shook his head and Sam smiled as he wrapped his lips around the head of Dean’s cock again, suckling on it. “Don’t stop ... so fucking hot.” Dean wasn’t sure himself if he was referring to the molten heat of Sam’s mouth or the sight of his brother’s sweet mouth wrapped around his dick. Probably both, but he was rapidly becoming too incoherent to think about it, or anything else for that matter.
Sam sucked Dean’s shaft from tip to root and back again, swirling his tongue around it and grazing it with his teeth and Dean’s spine melted. One hand clenched in the bedclothes at his side, the other in Sam’s hair and there was a low keening sound in his throat as Sam worked him. Sam reached up to tug and twist Dean’s left nipple and Dean arched off the bed, panting. He thrust up, an involuntary movement which he tried to control but Sam didn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact he encouraged more, scraping his nails over Dean’s chest until Dean was writhing again and fucking Sam’s mouth shamelessly until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Sam growled around him, and that was Dean’s undoing, that and the intensely possessive look in Sam’s eyes as he grabbed Dean’s hips and swallowed down every last drop of come as Dean pumped into his mouth.
Dean shuddered as he lay there and reached down for Sam, pulling him back up the bed to hold him close.
“Where did you learn to ... never mind, I don’t need to know right now.”
Sam grinned and licked at Dean’s pliant lips as his older brother groaned and parted them to grant Sam access, tasting himself on Sam's mouth.
Dean began to press Sam back against the bed, wanting to return the favour, but Sam shook his head and prodded Dean to turn over so he could snuggle up behind him. Yeah, Dean thought, snuggle, and that was fine with him too.
“Tired.” Sam yawned, and wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist, curling around his back protectively, pulling him close and snuffling in his ear and Dean realised that even with everything else that had happened, until that moment, he’d never really experienced pure bliss.
“Mine.” Sam whispered against Dean’s neck.
“Always have been.” Dean agreed sleepily.
Next Chapter ...
hit counter
no subject