The Promise 'Verse

The Promise 'Verse

Part III

Promises, Promises

†

Sam awoke a little disoriented, his face crushed against the slightly rough fabric of his pillow, both arms splayed out above his head. There was a warm, heavy weight resting astride his butt.

“Dean?” Sam mumbled sleepily, slitting an eye open and trying to peer back over his shoulder.

“Mhmm,” was the only reply Sam got.

“Whacha doin’?” Sam asked curiously, his voice still scratchy with sleep. Suddenly the warm body was draped across him completely, and familiar fingers were lacing through his own.

“Waking you up,” Dean explained in a drawl as he nuzzled up against one of Sam’s shoulders, where a band of muscle melded into the hollow of his clavicle.

“Oh?” Sam murmured questioningly, still enjoying that state between sleep and consciousness where the world itself was like a big warm comforter wrapped around your senses.

“Yeah,” Dean affirmed with a tinge of amusement colouring his voice. “It’s time for Round 2, Sammy...” As he said this, Dean pressed his hips firmly against Sam’s ass, his morning erection slickly sliding down to hit Sam’s balls, hot and hard between Sam’s thighs. And just like that sleep was the last thing on Sam’s mind.

He’d already been half-hard upon waking, but now all of him was unquestionably wide awake. Straining his neck to the side, Sam went to look enquiringly at Dean, only to have his mouth captured and his breath stolen.

“Mmbbrrrffmmm,” Sam complained into the kiss, worried about the state of his breath.

Dean hardly seemed to mind as he opened his mouth wider, to deepen the kiss, his tongue smoothly exploring the moist cavern before him. In fact, Dean loved Sam’s mouth. It could say so much, even when it said nothing at all.

He loved it pouting. The bottom lip sticking out adorably. How many times had he imagined himself taking that bottom lip and biting it with just enough pressure that it trembled, begging him to do whatever he would?

He loved it smiling. When it curved up sweetly, and flashed him those perfectly white, straight teeth. Some days the only way he was able to keep going was because if he didn’t he would no longer get to see that smile, blinding in its beauty and charming in its unfettered happiness, directed at him, and him alone. He couldn’t live without it.

But most of all, he loved it surrendering to him. All those times he’d stolen kisses, meaningful as they were, they just didn’t compare to this. This willingness, the way this mouth simply yielded to Dean, letting him take his pleasure and provide it in return. God, he had no idea what he did to deserve this. Whatever it was, though, it didn’t matter anymore. ‘Cos now he had it, he was never letting it go.

Not breaking the kiss, Dean unraveled a hand and grabbed the lube from the bedside table where he’d put it after having woken and almost broken his neck treading on it. Despite being a first class Hunter, there were still moments when Dean could be an utter unco. He was after all only human. He surmised that the irritatingly rounded tube had fallen to the floor when Sam had tucked the both of them in earlier. He easily flipped the top open and one-handedly squeezed a glob onto a finger. He dropped the tube next to Sam’s thigh for easy access.

Rolling slightly off of Sam, Dean moved his mouth from Sam’s to attach his lips to the nape of Sam’s neck where he bit down hard.

“Eeek!” Sam squeeked out shrilly. Dean released the flesh instantly, his eyes swerving to catch Sam’s.

“The fuck?” Dean exclaimed in surprise.

Sam was blushing brightly, a complete contrast to what he’d been like just hours before, dominating and in control, using Dean, and abusing Dean, and making Dean love it, beg for it even, which was something Dean had never done for anyone else. “Sorry...” Sam groaned out. “Sorry. My nape’s just kinda...”

“So I see,” Dean interrupted, his laughter echoing in his voice, and in his eyes. “Anywhere else I should know to avoid?” He tried to ask seriously, but the question came out on an amused snort, as he ineffectually tried to stop his shoulders from shaking in silent laughter. God, the noise Sam had made... It had been... God, Dean laughed out loud a little, just remembering it, too cute for words, Dean thought fondly.

“Shut up, dude!” Sam whined. “I can’t help it...” Sam protested weakly, and Dean could practically hear the pout in his voice. But seeing that bottom lip protruding like that, his amusement quickly faded into something else. Something deeper, darker, unfathomable. Dean just couldn’t help it either, he grabbed Sam’s lip between his teeth, and gnawed at it gently, relishing the way that Sam seemed to trail off and completely lose his train of thought.

Dean regrettably let it go after a few moments, but took pride in the deep red colour it was now. He licked it in apology, and leant in to kiss Sam properly, before drawing back and informing him, “I’m gonna make you scream.” Dean paused considering the earlier incident. “In a completely non-girly way.”

Sam looked torn between desire and indignation, and Dean thought it was an interesting look for him. He finally settled on teasing Dean back, retorting, “Promises, promises...” in a fashion that suggested Dean incapable of making good on said promise.

Dean smiled indulgently at him, “You know I never break a promise.”

And at that, Sam’s eyes were just that little bit brighter than usual, as he smiled back sincerely.

Dean couldn’t help but feel obliged to wreck the mood of the ‘moment’. Leaning forward, and leering lecherously, he added, “I will, however, be breaking you,” just as he ran a finger between Sam’s cheeks, to press the already warm lube just inside his opening.

“Ha-AH!” Sam cried, as he slammed his hips down, hard, against the mattress. Dean was sniggering lightly at the thought of all the various noises he might be able to draw out of Sam. After all, they had time.

“Deeeean,” Sam moaned, as he pushed back against the finger now inside him. Dean quickly spread the lube around a bit before pushing in with a second and scissoring.

Sam gasped, face again crushed against his pillow, back arching and hands clenching at the bed sheets by his sides.

“You all right, Sammy?” Dean asked, completely serious this time.

“Haaah...” He gasped, and Dean waited patiently for an actual answer, giving Sam time to adjust if he needed it.

A few moments later, Dean prompted Sammy again, saying his name, concerned with the lack of a lucid response.

“Wha-? Oh... Y-yeah...” Sam’s breathing was uneven, and hitched every time he shifted. Satisfied that Sam wasn’t at all hurt, then again, he had managed two fingers earlier, without lube, Dean sat up properly, planning to add some more lube to the third finger he wanted to stretch Sam with but as he did so Sam gave a guttural moan, and near shouted, “Again!” at him.

Dean tried to recall what he’d done. Then he realized what it must have been. Hello, Mr. Prostate, Dean greeted it in his mind. You and I, we’re gonna be gooood friends.

That being said, he twisted his fingers and dragged them across the sensitive bundle of nerves, in what he supposed was as close to a handshake as they were going to get.

“Aaaaaah!” This time Sam’s cry was accompanied with a buck of his hips.

Dean could feel his eyes starting to glaze over; he was so turned on by Sam’s responsiveness. Thinking that he mightn’t last any longer than he had earlier that night, he slipped in that third finger, and felt Sam’s heat tighten around the three.

“How’s it feel, Sammy?” Dean asked breathlessly.

“S’full...” Sam managed around a moan. “But good... Feels good, Dean...”

It was Dean’s turn to moan. “I don’t think I can last much longer. I need to be in you.”

“Yeah...” Sam whispered in response, whimpering a little when Dean withdrew his fingers.

“Ready?” Dean asked. Sam let his head fall forward as he gave him a shaky nod, his fists tightening further on the sheets.

“You gotta relax, baby.”

Dean blinked, how long had it been since he’d called Sam that? He soothed his non-lube covered hand down Sam’s back, before kissing Sam gently on his nape, making him shiver. With his other hand he coated himself generously. Dean took a deep, steady breath in order to steel himself so as to not come the instant he breached his brother.

Sam forced himself to relax as he felt Dean pressing against him. Dean seemed even larger this way, larger than he had felt against his mouth, but Sam didn’t care. All he wanted was that Dean be inside him. As close to him as was possible. Sam’s eyes slipped closed as Dean managed to inch himself in. He paused frequently, allowing for Sam to adjust, only moving forward at Sam’s instruction.

When he was finally buried to the hilt inside Sam, Dean wrapped his body as tightly around Sam as he could manage. Although Sam sorta wished he could see Dean, he could feel him, and that was more than enough. In fact, Sam thought that had he been able to see Dean, he likely would have come as soon as Dean was all the way in him. The look on Dean’s face, when he realized just how deep inside Sam he was... Sam shuddered, unable to control the wave of pleasure that rippled through him at the thought alone.

Sam tried rocking back against the thick fullness inside him, testing to see whether there was any pain, or discomfort. It felt unusual, and a little scary, but... Not bad. More exciting than anything else. Sam opened his eyes to find his hands no longer clenched in the sheets but tangled with Dean’s again, and he felt himself relax completely. He was joined with Dean. At last...

With that thought, he clenched himself around Dean, and felt more than heard Dean’s moan rumble through him. Dean took this as a sign that Sam was ready to keep going. And he half withdrew before sliding back home.

It took a few moments but soon enough they had a rhythm. It was slow but deep, and it felt profound. Sam wondered if Dean could feel his soul like this, and he was moved to tears at the thought. As his breath hitched, he silently stifled the almost-sob that tried to escape him, all the while feeling as if he were finally whole. He realized now that that empty place within him had actually been Dean shaped, and that nothing could ever fill him like Dean could.

This was what making love was meant to be like, Dean realized. If only one person felt it, then the mass of non-existent feelings was like a black hole that would suck the love, the hope, the happiness, everything good and real out of that person and destroy it. It was meaningless. It was pointless. Though it might feel good for a second, it was the kind of pleasure that was gained at the great loss of something else. Like making a bargain with a devil. It only lasted so long, before you realized what you’d done, and how much you stood to lose. It was only after the deed that you would look back and regret. For all his life, that’s what sex had been like. Even with Cassie. He hadn’t been able to love her like she’d loved him. And in some ways, she was right, he’d pushed her to reject him, because the truth was, he’d known she wouldn’t be able to accept it. The Hunt; it was his way out.

But this...? This was everything.

Nothing else existed beyond the two of them, and it was something beautiful; it was creation, ecstasy, euphoria, enrapture. Dean had always considered Sam to be synonymous with Home, but never before had he realized just how true this was. And never before had he ever felt it, to the depth of his being, quite like he felt it right now.

And while he was having this mass of epiphanies, he discovered that all the while he’d been chanting Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, like a mantra. His mouth knew no other shape to form. And each thrust into the depths that would be both his destruction as well as his salvation was punctuated by the name that defined his own existence.

Bracing himself, he took Sam in hand, and simply held him. As he reached the brink of the greatest pinnacle of his life, Dean found that he was falling all over again, and he cried out harshly, his voice breaking under the weight of the gravity of his feelings, “love you...”

And just as promised, Sam screamed his name, as he came, shuddering and sobbing.

And it was the oddest sensation Dean had ever experienced. Because later he would swear that he’d felt Sam inside his head, or maybe it was he who was in Sam’s, with Sammy whispering his own salty tear-stained declaration of love but not speaking at all...

†

Finis.