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phantismaFandom: Stargate Atlantis/Supernatural Crossover
Title: Don't Think We're in Kansas, Chapter 4 (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter) Sam/Dean, John/Dean, Sam/Dean/John, Beckett,
Word Count: 6132 (this chapter)
Rating: NC-17 (it's all about the sex)
Summary: Sam discovers taht keeping secrets isn't easy on Atlantis. Dean discovers he has needs. Ronon makes a few discoveries of his own. And there is sex.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a bunny "given" to me by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
denyce. I don't know if she knew what she was getting into. Um. So...warnings. This is a slave fic. This is Dean slave fic...nothing like the OTHER slave!Dean fic. This is new and different. This will involve dubious con, and kinky, kinky sex. Yeah. Here. *points*
“It really is quite incredible.” Sam said, looking out over the city from the balcony. Dean was beside him, but had his back to the view, watching Ronon and John instead. Sam could sense his unease.
“It really is.” John said, moving to stand beside him.
They’d spent the morning wandering the city, though John had specifically steered them from meeting anyone they hadn’t already met. The idea that this was Atlantis…the Atlantis of legend, that it was real, and that the reason it had disappeared was because it had left Earth…it was overwhelming.
“So, listen. We need to head back down to the infirmary. Carson just called and there are test results he wants to talk about.”
Sam stiffened and turned his back on the expanse of water, his hand unconsciously closing over Dean’s.
“And, I figured we should talk first.” John was uncomfortable. Sweating. Sam had a sudden urge to take his hand as well. “See, we haven’t told anyone exactly what…this is about.” He made a gesture with his hands that kind of included him and Dean.
“And you don’t want anyone to know.” Sam said.
“It’s…not like it’s anyone business other than us, right?” John shifted, glancing back at Ronon who was standing against the wall, his arms crossed. “No one really knows about me and Ronon either. Not exactly military protocol, you know?”
Sam grinned. Somehow it relieved him to know that he and Dean weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. “We understand.” Sam said with a nod. “No worries.”
John grinned, relief washing over him as well. “Good. Then let’s go see what the good doctor has for us.”
*~*~*
“I haven’t completed all of the tests.” Carson opened with as they were all seated around a conference table. “However, I thought that some of what I’ve found could be important.” He licked his lips and paced a little. “First, the technology implanted in the three of you is not exactly Ancient…but it is based on an Ancient design.” He touched a remote and the computer screen beside him lit up. “Rodney found this before he and Teyla left.”
On the screen was a schematic of something that looked a lot like the collars. “It was developed to curb criminal tendencies.” Carson said. “Though, the devices you’re wearing are quite advanced from these. It would appear that this was the inspiration.”
Carson sighed and looked up at them, his eyes dancing from Sam’s to Dean’s and off to Elizabeth’s. “So far I’ve found no way to remove them. In fact, in Dean’s case, the device is so entwined with his body, I’m not sure that removing it will be wise.”
“I’m sure Rodney will bring back more information.” John said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Unconsciously, Dean reached for his thigh under the table, rubbing a gentle hand along his inseam. John cleared his throat. “What else, Carson?”
“Oh, yes. Both of them have the ATA gene. Sam here has the highest concentration of it I’ve ever seen.” Carson looked at Sam, his eyes narrowing, then he looked away. “Both of them are fairly healthy, though there are some anomalies on Sam’s blood work. I’ll want to draw fresh samples to double check the results.”
“What sorts of anomalies?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. There’s a protein marker in his blood work I’ve never seen before. I just want to double check it.”
“Anything else we should know, Doc?” John asked. He was standing, Dean following.
“Just give me a few minutes alone with Sam here. I’ll have him back to you in a jiffy.”
Sam looked at John and John nodded. Sam followed Carson into the next room, lifting his hip to sit on the bed when Carson gestured to it. Carson pulled on gloves and smiled a little as a nurse handed him a tray with a syringe on it and several vials for blood.
“Is there anything you want to tell me, young man?” Carson asked as he wrapped rubber tubing around Sam’s upper arm.
Sam frowned. “Don’t think so.”
Carson dismissed the nurse. “Is there a particular reason you haven’t told anyone that Dean is your brother?”
Sam started and Carson stuck the needle into his arm. “I’m sorry?”
Carson chuckled. “Did ya’ think I wouldn’t find out? I’m testing your DNA, Son. It was fairly obvious you were related.”
Sam bit his lip and contemplated how to handle this. He’d promised Dean no one would know. “Okay. Yeah. He’s my brother. But…” He shook his head. “Look…we’ve had to…John can’t know. Okay?”
It was Carson’s turn to frown, straightening up and flicking his eyes up from the vial filling with blood to Sam’s face. “Why?”
Sam sighed. How do you tell a virtual stranger that you want your brother to fuck you and John is making that happen? “We’ve had to…do things…and John would feel even more guilty than he does now if he knew.”
“Things?” Carson asked, pressing gauze to Sam’s arm.
Sam blushed and looked down at his arm. “Look…this is like covered under doctor-patient privilege, right?”
Carson set the vials of blood aside and snapped the gloves off. Sam’s eyes lifted to meet his and he could see understanding there. Carson’s eyes flicked to the door where Dean was staring in at them. “Of course. Unless you’re in some sort of danger, or present a danger to Atlantis, anything you say here stays here.”
Sam rolled his eyes, searching for the words. “Dean…he and I didn’t have a typical childhood. Our relationship has never been strictly conventional. Obviously the Sagare saw that. We’ve never…but if John knew…” Sam glanced at the door again. Outside it John and Dean were pacing, the tension building.
“Is Colonel Sheppard forcing you to do anything—“
“No!” Sam shook his head. “No…no, nothing like that.” He rubbed at his neck, feeling the flush of his embarrassment. He’d never spoken about this…about wanting this…certainly not to a total stranger. “I wouldn’t I have my voice back if it was something I didn’t want.”
Carson seemed to concede that point. “No, I suppose not. But this is—“
“Yeah, I know.” Sam exhaled slowly and thought about it. “I never expected to ever…you know…do it…and Dean would never have let it happen…I’ve never even told him…and I know it’s….” He stopped and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to say it was wrong, because it didn’t feel wrong at all. “John—Colonel Sheppard did what he had to. Now we’re just trying to do the best we can with…this.”
Carson looked him over, the look on his face tense. Sam held his breath, half expecting the doctor to tell him it was wrong and illegal and demand it stop…or at the very least, call Sheppard back in and tell him the whole sordid story. Instead, Carson sighed and looked back to the door. Sam didn’t have to look to know Dean was staring at him. He could feel his concern, he didn’t like Sam in there alone.
Carson nodded and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Very well, Sam…I’ll get these tests underway. You had better get out there before your brother comes storming in after you.”
Sam looked up and Dean was staring at him through the window. “Yeah, okay. Thanks Doc. And…I mean for everything.”
Carson nodded, smiling encouragingly. “Your secret is safe with me, lad.”
Sam grinned and hopped off the bed, opening the doors to the explosion of relief from both John and Dean. Ronon, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. “Dinner?”
Sam shrugged a little. “I could eat.”
*~*~*
“You’re hiding something.” Ronon said suddenly and Sam turned from staring out the window. Ronon had been watching him since they’d gotten back, and Sam had tried to ignore him, staring out the window thinking about Dean. He and John were in the next room. If he thought about it, he could feel Dean’s arousal.
He didn’t want to think about it. “I…what?” Sam asked. Ronon was standing very, very close his arms crossed over his chest. The nearness of the man made Sam uncomfortable…warm. His thoughts skittered over all the many things he was hiding, screeching to a halt on Dean…on wanting Dean, on the fact that they were in fact brothers, that he couldn’t possibly know what someone like Ronon would think about that.
“You and him…Dean.” Ronon’s eyes were on him, making him nervous, like they could see past him, through him. “You’re hiding something.”
Sam shook his head. “No…we’re just…we…love each other.”
“No, I get that.” Ronon’s smile was fierce. He moved closer and Sam tried to step clear, but Ronon moved with him. “It isn’t that.”
Sam’s heart raced. He was sweating. “I’ve been watching you.” Ronon said, his arms lifting, bracing against the window, blocking Sam in. Sam’s breathing tightened. He licked his lips and tried not to stare at the muscles in those arms, tried not to think about the sexual arousal he was reading from Dean and John.
“It…it’s just…I’m trying to protect him.”
“You want him.” Ronon leaned in closer, his face close to Sam’s and Sam could smell him…could almost taste him. “You want him and that freaks him out.”
“He…he just…It’s not his…” Sam pressed himself back against the window. He was hard and he was having trouble thinking of anything that didn’t involve losing a whole lot of clothes on his way to the bed…or the floor…
Ronon leaned in close to Sam’s ear. “You get off on watching John fuck him. You get off on this whole situation.” Ronon was so close, yet he hadn’t touched. Sam closed his eyes, tried to deny what he was saying.
“It’s the damn collars.” He opened his eyes, defiance in them. “It’s John and his fucking sex on the brain.
Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Maybe…to some degree…but then, Dean would be just as into it as you. I think we both know he isn’t.” Sam swallowed, shaking his head. “You’re hard right now, and they’re not even here.”
“No. It’s…they’re…I can feel them.” Sam was hard, and he couldn’t tell if it was Ronon’s proximity or Dean’s arousal in the next room or John’s for that matter…and fuck, but he needed to get away, needed to stop his questions. Needed to…
Ronon’s right hand moved and grabbed him, squeezing his stiff cock even through his pants. Sam gasped and tried to move away but Ronon pushed him back into the glass. “So…what is it…he’s not into guys?”
His hand worked over the length of Sam’s dick, his fingers pressing into it as Sam’s eyes rolled closed. “Or is it something else?” Sam was already close, and yet…Ronon’s hand stopped, holding him. Sam opened his eyes, Ronon’s face hovering so close.
“Is it something about you?”
Sam pushed the panic away and licked his lips. “Me? Dean…he…he’d never want this…not like I did.”
Ronon nodded, and Sam could see his mind working, realized he’d said too much. He leaned forward, taking away the inches that separated them, his lips brushing over Ronon’s. Ronon growled, his hand tightening, stroking. Sam pushed against his hand, wanting to come, to derail the conversation. Ronon knew what he was doing though, pushing Sam back. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you come.”
Sam bit back a whimper of need. A little truth was called for here; somehow he knew that Ronon would know if it was a total lie. “He’s…we grew up together.” He didn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Fuck, he couldn’t have said that.
“Your brother?” It was more a statement than a question, Ronon’s eyes seeking his out. Sam’s eyes went wide, his whole body stiffened, and his cock jerked in Ronon’s hand. “That’s it?” There was no horror in his face, no revulsion…in fact all Sam was reading off Ronon now was lust.
Sam shoved him, but the big man barely moved. “No…no…” Sam had promised him no one would know…and now the doctor knew and Ronon was thinking it and…Sam shook his head. “No…we…grew up together…we lived on the road together…He’s always protected me.”
“So…your brother.” Ronon said, his eyebrow raised and his expression clearly indicating his disbelief. His hand fondled Sam’s cock which was still hard despite his fear. “You want your brother. You want your brother to fuck you.” His voice was low, sultry, dripping with lust.
Sam squirmed. “No. You’re not listening to me.”
“Oh, I hear the words coming from your mouth Sam…and I feel the response here.” He squeezed his cock and just like that Sam came, groaning and leaning in to Ronon.
“Fuck you.” Sam said pushing at him again. Ronon’s hand squeezed his cock all the harder. Sam gasped involuntarily.
“Maybe…but that isn’t what you really want, is it? Maybe I’ll fuck you instead.” Ronon growled, his hands fumbling now with Sam’s pants. “You like that don’t you? Want someone else to take charge. Want it rough.” He got the pants open and Sam bumped his head on the window.
Ronon’s hand was on the over-sensitive skin of his cock. “Yes.” Sam whispered, surging forward toward him.
*~*~*
Dean paced the small room, biting on his thumb. He’d already bitten his nails down to nothing, so all he had left was the tip of his thumb stuck between his teeth while he paced. He was nearly hard, the thoughts rolling off of John driving him crazy, even with John trying to sit and do performance evaluations…or something. He hadn’t really been paying attention.
John sighed in frustration and put down his stylus. “Dean?”
Dean rolled his eyes and collapsed into the chair, his thumb ending up right back between his teeth. Dean’s mind flushed with images of him sucking something else entirely. He sighed and pulled his thumb out of his mouth, wiping it on his pants and crossing his arms.
More images, of Ronon biting John’s shoulder and John biting over his ass. Dean sucking on long fingers. A hard cock sliding into his mouth. His thumb was back between his teeth again. His eyes glanced up to find Sheppard bent back over his computer screen. Dean’s eyes rolled closed and he let his thumb slip further into his mouth, imagining it was something else, sucking at it lightly.
John shifted in his seat and Dean yanked his thumb out, shaking his head. Dean sighed again and got up to go back to pacing. “You could go join Sam and Ronon. They’re close enough we shouldn’t have to worry.” John looked at the door to the adjoining room, then his eyes got wide. Dean felt a rolling wave of lust and sex emanating from Sam…amplified by John. “Or maybe you should let them be for the moment.”
Dean squinted at him, and got the impression of Sam and Ronon ripping at each other’s clothes. He growled and rubbed his hands over his face. This not talking thing was getting very old. His erection was starting to hurt. He closed his eyes and stalked over to John, shaking his head in disbelief of what he was about to do.
He grabbed John’s hand and held it to his crotch. It was the clearest and easiest way he knew to express his need…and at this point that’s exactly what it was. Need.
“Whoa. Okay. I get it.” John nodded and licked his lips. “What…okay…let’s try this.” John blew out softly and opened Dean’s pants. Dean sighed in relief as his very hard cock sprang free. John eyed it for a moment, then licked the tip. Dean groaned and rocked forward as if being pulled. If not for John’s hands on his hips, he might have buried himself in the Colonel’s mouth.
Obviously the man had some experience, his tongue delved deliciously down the side of Dean’s cock and back up to the tip and Dean couldn’t help but fist a hand in John’s hair. The added contact only heightened the flow of thoughts and images until Dean was reeling from the sensations, and the only things keeping him on his feet was his hand in John’s hair and John’s hands on his hips.
*~*~*
Sam and Ronon battled toward a bed, shedding clothes as they went, pulling and stumbling and nipping at one another until Sam’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he was falling forward, Ronon catching him and turning him, mindful of his injured arm, yet on top of him and already using his position to his advantage.
Sam tried to roll them, but Ronon’s extra weight played against him and before he could make an adjustment, Ronon’s cock had breached his ass, no prep other than the playing earlier…it burned and Sam bucked, but it was more a token than any real need to escape. Ronon’s hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head back. “John has trouble really being rough…but I don’t….this what you want, Sam?”
Ronon pushed in against Sam’s prostate and his vision swam. “Yeah…yeah…what I want.” Another wave of something came over him. Want. With it he got the impression of Dean’s cock in John’s mouth. “God…fuck…”
“My pleasure.” Ronon’s hips snapped forward and Sam grabbed handfuls of blanket, turning his face into the mattress as he groaned.
“Harder.” Sam gasped and Ronon obliged, his hands pressing fingerprints into Sam’s skin as he pounded him and Sam’s cock screamed for attention.
*~*~*
Dean was going to go insane. It was like watching porn in his brain, only it stared his little brother and the only man Dean had ever known who could dwarf Sam even when they were the same height. Add to that the way John was working his cock and Dean should have been exploding buckets of come from his cock.
Only he wasn’t. It hurt even more now, and he pulled back, groaning as John’s mouth released him with a pop.
“What? What’s wrong?” John asked.
Dean shook his head, frustrated beyond imagining and gesturing at John’s groin. Obviously something about this damn thing made it so he had to take care of John first.
“What?”
Dean gave him a look that he hoped conveyed “you’re an idiot” with convincing sincerity and dropped to one knee, gasping as his cock came in contact with John’s knee. He made quick work of freeing John’s erection and without thinking about it he opened his mouth and swallowed him, making John jump and thrust upward. Dean adjusted for depth and angle and worked hard to make him come quickly to ease his own pain.
*~*~*
The bed shook with the force of Ronon’s thrusting and Sam’s voice was already raw with the way he was groaning, half words and curses and moans worse than any porn soundtrack, begging and dirty words to egg the man on. Ronon roared as he came, shoving the bed into the wall as he shoved into Sam.
Sam’s cock scraped across the bed, stuttering in the blanket until it was too much and he was coming hard, yelling into the mattress and pushing back against Ronon before collapsing onto the bed.
Ronon lay on top of him, panting, his hands still on Sam’s hips. The skin under his fingers was indented when he finally released Sam and stood, popping his neck, before reaching down to help Sam up.
“John can’t know yet.” Ronon said casually as if Sam had somehow admitted that Dean was something other than a childhood friend. He went in search of his clothes.
“I agree.” Sam said, moving a little more stiffly as he too went in search of clothes. He watched Ronon for a minute. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he could see Ronon would make a good ally. “And Dean…he can’t know that you know. Not yet.”
Ronon nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He couldn’t tell if Ronon was okay with the revelation, or just relieved that Sam’s secret wasn’t something more damaging.
Sam was filled with the sudden urge to go to Dean, to help relieve his obvious distress. “I…Dean…I gotta…” He pulled on his pants and went to the door.
Dean was on his knees in front of John, his head bobbing over John’s cock. Sam slipped in beside him, his hand moving between his brother and John’s leg to cup his cock. Dean pulled up and looked at him, then shuddered as Sam found a rhythm that was obviously working.
He closed his eyes and went back to work on John. It was only a minute or so and John stiffened, thrusting up and coming with a long, low groan. As soon as Dean’s mouth came off, swallowing, his own cock started spewing onto the floor. He collapsed against Sam for a minute, then slowly pulled himself together and stood up.
He shook his head when Sam reached for him. “Dean…I—“ But Dean was gone, stalking away past Ronon in the doorway and off toward the bathroom. Sam heard him slam his fist against the wall, guessing he would have slammed the door if he could. “He’s not much for afterglow.” Sam said with a half smile.
John shook his head. “He came to me this time. That’s progress, right?”
Sam shrugged and picked himself up off the floor. “I’ve been thinking. We’re used to being…active. He needs something to do.”
John looked up at him, eyebrows arching. His mouth curved up in a wicked smirk and Sam blushed, rolling his eyes. “Something other than sex. Something to burn off some energy, give him a purpose.”
“What, like a job?”
Sam smirked at that. “He’s never had one of those. No…I was thinking maybe a work out schedule…he’s a fighter. We haven’t trained in a while…what with the whole slave thing…and you know…finding ourselves in another galaxy and then there’s the sex…” He realized he was rambling and forced himself to stop.
“Sparring?” Ronon offered. “We could set something up.”
“There’s the whole proximity thing.” John said, chewing on the stylus in his hand. He sat back in his chair, looking up at Ronon who was still leaning in the doorway. “But that seems to be getting better.”
“You and Dean?” Sam asked, turning to Ronon. He got a decided mental image of his brother and Ronon sparing, half naked and sweaty. John groaned in echo, then cleared his throat. “We could…watch.”
“Okay. Tomorrow morning. But make it casual.” John said, looking up at Ronon.
Ronon snorted and reached out to ruffle John’s hair, chuckling as he ducked away from Ronon’s hand. “I’m sleeping in my quarters then.” He pulled John into kiss him and Sam tried not to watch, turning instead to see Dean coming out of the bathroom toward them, wrapped in a towel and still dripping. John groaned and Ronon let him go, turning to Sam and kissing him just as deeply before he moved past Dean and let himself out.
Sam blushed as Dean stared at him, then cleared his throat and excused himself to go shower the come from his ass.
*~*~*
Dean woke early the next morning with Sam’s body wrapped protectively around him, one leg casually pinning Dean’s to the bed. In the other bed, John slept, snoring lightly. It was warm and oddly comfortable…even comforting. Sam’s breath brushed over his ear. Dean closed his eyes and sighed.
He had to wonder how much of what he was feeling was coming from the damn collar. It wasn’t like him. Yet, he felt no urge to push Sam away, no need to escape the bed. In fact, he was feeling a little like he wanted to—“
No. Dean opened his eyes. He was going to draw the line there. He wasn’t voluntarily making a move on his brother. His brother. It should seem odd that he had to remind himself of that, but what seemed odd was that it should matter.
Sam was a good looking guy, and Dean was…flexible. He shook his head and shifted so that he was more on his back, less of his body pressed against Sam’s. Sam scooted closer, his head rolling onto Dean’s shoulder, and before he’d thought better of it, Dean was pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead. His lips lingered there, fingers rising to brush the soft curls of hair from his temple.
Warmth, a flood of feeling rushed through him, love, affection…desire. Sam. It startled him to realize that this wasn’t coming from John, who was still sleeping, not dreaming…not projecting his endless thoughts about sex in various places and positions…Dean looked at Sam’s face, peaceful in his sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time Sam had slept so deeply, so free of nightmares.
Sam who wanted him. Sam who said he’d always wanted him. Sam who had accepted this…and got his voice back to prove it. Sam’s hand was on his thigh, high up and close to his cock, it’s heat seeping in to Dean’s skin.
He was so beautiful like this. Beautiful and calm, safe. The last year had been hard on him, and the fear he knew Sam had been hiding, holding on to because of things the demon had said.
Dean breathed deeply and kissed him again, soft lips, a little lower on his forehead…then the end of his nose. He had to tilt Sam’s head back to reach his lips. His stomach fluttered. It was barely a touch, not really a kiss…it was…not enough. Dean tried again, pressing his lips to Sam’s softly.
It was…nice. At least his cock thought so. That was maybe more than he bargained for. He pulled away, but when he did, Sam’s eyes were open. “Dean?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was nothing to say, even if he could say it. Sam’s eyes were sleep-filled and hazy, but his hand brushed up on Dean’s thigh, closer still to the cock that was waking to the idea…and damn but it still wasn’t John’s thought in his head when Sam lifted his head and Dean wanted to taste his mouth.
He didn’t want to think about it, so he acted, he pulled Sam to him, pulled him to his mouth and slid his tongue past unresisting lips. Sam moaned and moved so that his back wasn’t as twisted, welcoming the kiss, his tongue dancing around and over Deans. When they pulled apart Dean was breathing heavy and his cock had grown to fill Sam’s hand.
He risked a glance to the other bed, got a vague image of John’s dream about flying and looked back at Sam. He lifted a finger to his lips in a “Shh” gesture. Sam nodded, his eyes wide.
He didn’t know what he was doing…he just knew that his heart was pounding in his chest and his mouth was filled with the taste of Sam…and it was making him crazy. Sam had said Dean would never chose this…would never accept this…but Dean was starting to think maybe…Sam’s hand stroked him and Dean shuddered.
It wasn’t about the physical pleasure…Sam’s lips were on his and his thoughts short circuited. When he could think again, Sam was kissing his way down Dean’s chest, pausing to lick and suck and bite at his nipple until Dean was arching up, his legs wide as his calves pressed to the bed.
Sam’s hand left Dean’s cock and both hands slid up Dean’s body, drawing his arms up and pinning his wrists under one massive hand, the hand not wrapped in bandages and plaster. His mouth then went back to the teasing, moving to his other nipple, laving over it with the flat of his tongue, then flicking the tightened nub with the tip before closing teeth over it and tossing his head.
Dean gasped and thrust upward with his hips, craving friction. Sam’s eyes sparkled when he lifted his eyes. Alive with passion and lust and the love that had always been there…Dean’s breathing was speeding up and his skin was starting to get sweaty. Sam’s big hand held his wrists captive as he moved back to the other nipple. Dean grunted, trying to direct Sam down, to his needy cock, but Sam ignored him.
“Dean.” He whispered it…soft, over the damp skin, and Dean didn’t think his name alone should do that to him. He wanted to hear it again…the sound of Sam’s voice whispered and raw. “Dean. Dean. Dean.”
He pulled on his hands, but Sam wasn’t letting go. Sam. Sam. He wanted his hands. He wanted his voice. He wanted to yell and make Sam’s evil mouth leave his fucking chest alone and pay more attention to the rest of him. He tried to make as much noise as he could without the use of his vocal chords. Sam smiled at him…fucking grinned…and went right back to tormenting him, his tongue plowing a trail down his abs and circling his navel.
“Open your eyes Dean.”
That voice wasn’t Sam’s. Dean looked up to find Sam relinquishing control of his hands to John, who was on the bed with them. Dean hadn’t felt him wake, hadn’t sensed him moving, he’d been too focused on Sam. “Watch.” Dean’s eyes flicked to Sam who was kneeling between his legs, spreading Dean open. His cock stood hard and curved toward him.
Sam started on his left knee, lifting and bending and licking under…nipping lightly…kissing up until he reached Dean’s hip…then circling his navel again, sliding over tight muscle and into the scratchy patch of pubic hair above his cock. Dean’s guttural groan rocked the bed. Sam. Sam.
John was behind Dean now, Dean’s head pillowed on John’s stomach, and he could see himself through John’s eyes, see Sam…god, he could feel Sam…John held Dean’s wrists behind his head. “He wants you. He wants you to want this.” John whispered. “He told me he loves you so much it hurts. Let go Dean…just let go.”
Dean dragged air in and lifted his head to see Sam suck one of his balls into his mouth. Fuck. Sam. He grunted, knowing it made only a little sound. His legs trembled. Sam’s tongue touched the base of his cock…just above the balls…just…touched and was gone. Dean could see the pre-come glistening at the slit…until Sam’s tongue licked it up and curled up to savor the liquid like it was precious.
Hot, moist hair against his skin. Dean pulled on the hands that held him, wanting to pull Sam in, down. Please….Fucking please…Sam…just…John’s hands held him and yet he could almost feel those hands slithering over his skin, tweaking nipples and Sam’s mouth…Sam’s fucking mouth was there…right there, just hovering over his cock, his eyes on Dean’s.
His hands held Dean’s knees, spread open and bare and fuck…fuck…A flick of Sam’s tongue over the head made Dean buck up, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. Another, and another…and Dean was sure his brother was trying to drive him crazy…The tongue circled him, over the head, under it. Then…slowly, those lips closed over his cock and Dean let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hips shoving up. Sam’s hands moved to his hips, pushing him back down…and his mouth was gone…back to kissing his hips, licking his thighs.
“Dean.” The word whispered over spit-slick flesh was like skin against him. Dean pushed back into John, his hips coming off the bed again and no amount of pushing was going to get him back down, Sam licked the underside, tracing the long vein and flicking off the top before he swallowed Dean and just like that, Dean was coming, screaming, his body rigid and pushed up into Sam.
When it was over, he collapsed bonelessly to the bed, his brother’s name echoing around in his head. It took a minute to realize it wasn’t only in his head. John released him and Sam slid up to lay across him, kissing over his face frantically. “Sam. Sam. Sam.” His voice was hoarse, cracked…but his voice.
“Dean…god, Dean…” Sam rolled them so that John could move, so that Dean was on top of him and looking down at him. Suddenly he had to pee so bad he wasn’t sure he’d make the bathroom. He lurched up and away, holding himself as he ran.
He leaned against the wall as the pain ripped through him and a metallic thunk told him he’d passed the device, just as Sam had. He looked up as he flushed, to find Sam’s face, all shiny and sweaty and pleased. Dean shook his head. He didn’t know what to say.
“You okay?” Sam asked finally, some of the pleasure slipping from his face to be replaced with concern. He came a few steps closer and lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek.
“Yeah, Sam. I’m good.” He was…better than good.
Sam kissed him, and Dean let him. His brother loved him. He loved his brother. All the rest could be as fucked up as this was and that didn’t matter. They were Winchesters. Fucked up was their middle name.
They were both barefoot, bare-chested, sweaty. John shifted uncomfortably and Sam grinned cheekily at him. Ronon circled a little more warily around Dean after getting put down once. Dean was going to have a bit of a black eye, but he was still on his feet.
John had to admit, the kid had skills. “What kind of hunting did you say you two did?”
Sam looked back at him and shrugged. “You know…hunting.”
John frowned at him for a minute, then looked back to the floor where Ronon and Dean grappled, muscles bulging in their arms and calves as they pushed their bodies toward one another.
He’d locked down the gym so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Dean was still pretty self-conscious about the whole voice thing, and John wasn’t really eager to share this view. Dean’s foot slipped and he went down, but he took Ronon with him, rolling backward and ending up on top of the bigger man, even landing a punch hard across Ronon’s jaw before Ronon threw him off.
“I told you, stop holding back.” Dean said as he climbed to his feet. “I can take it.”
Ronon shrugged and charged. They went down again, wrestling around on the mats. John exhaled and tried to force his mind to stay on the match. Dean fell back against the mat, calling for a time out as he looked at John. “Dude! Cut me a break.”
Ronon helped Dean up off the floor and they both came for towels to dry off. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight this guy with that in my head?” Dean asked.
John chuckled. Actually, he kind of did. Whenever he and Ronon fought he had to deal with it. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you doing that and think about anything else?” John asked. Dean shot him a dirty look. “Sorry. Maybe I should…wait in the hall?”
“Don’t you have work to do or something?” Dean asked, wiping his sweaty face.
“Proximity issue.” John said, though he held up his hands when Dean looked like he was going to take a punch. “Okay, I promise…I’m only going to think about fairies and lollipops.” Dean dropped his towel and headed back to the mat and John tried. He really tried to think about fairies…only they came out looking more like angels…and they had Dean’s face…and these big wings that erupted out of his muscular back…He shook his head and licked his lips. He needed to get this thing under control.
He looked up and Dean had a hand locked around Ronon’s neck. Both were motionless, straining, and John couldn’t help but see them kissing…Dean pulling Ronon down, lifting up…then Dean was kissing, his foot behind Ronon’s, knocking him to the floor and straddling him.
“Fuck!” Dean stood, pushing off Ronon’s chest. Ronon was laughing. Sam jumped up and went to Dean.
John was about to say something, when his intercom came to life. “Colonel Sheppard.”
“Go ahead Elizabeth.”
“Rodney and Teyla are on their way back from the Sagare. I figured you’d want to hear what they have to say.”
John nodded and both Dean and Ronon moved to pull on shirts and shoes. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
With any luck his team would once again pull them out of a tough spot. A little bit of Teyla’s negotiating, and some of Rodney’s brilliance and they’d be sending the boys home to Earth. John stood, his eyes stealing over Dean’s ass. Problem was, John wasn’t really sure he wanted them to leave.
Title: Don't Think We're in Kansas, Chapter 4 (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter) Sam/Dean, John/Dean, Sam/Dean/John, Beckett,
Word Count: 6132 (this chapter)
Rating: NC-17 (it's all about the sex)
Summary: Sam discovers taht keeping secrets isn't easy on Atlantis. Dean discovers he has needs. Ronon makes a few discoveries of his own. And there is sex.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a bunny "given" to me by
denyce. I don't know if she knew what she was getting into. Um. So...warnings. This is a slave fic. This is Dean slave fic...nothing like the OTHER slave!Dean fic. This is new and different. This will involve dubious con, and kinky, kinky sex. Yeah. Here. *points*“It really is quite incredible.” Sam said, looking out over the city from the balcony. Dean was beside him, but had his back to the view, watching Ronon and John instead. Sam could sense his unease.
“It really is.” John said, moving to stand beside him.
They’d spent the morning wandering the city, though John had specifically steered them from meeting anyone they hadn’t already met. The idea that this was Atlantis…the Atlantis of legend, that it was real, and that the reason it had disappeared was because it had left Earth…it was overwhelming.
“So, listen. We need to head back down to the infirmary. Carson just called and there are test results he wants to talk about.”
Sam stiffened and turned his back on the expanse of water, his hand unconsciously closing over Dean’s.
“And, I figured we should talk first.” John was uncomfortable. Sweating. Sam had a sudden urge to take his hand as well. “See, we haven’t told anyone exactly what…this is about.” He made a gesture with his hands that kind of included him and Dean.
“And you don’t want anyone to know.” Sam said.
“It’s…not like it’s anyone business other than us, right?” John shifted, glancing back at Ronon who was standing against the wall, his arms crossed. “No one really knows about me and Ronon either. Not exactly military protocol, you know?”
Sam grinned. Somehow it relieved him to know that he and Dean weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. “We understand.” Sam said with a nod. “No worries.”
John grinned, relief washing over him as well. “Good. Then let’s go see what the good doctor has for us.”
*~*~*
“I haven’t completed all of the tests.” Carson opened with as they were all seated around a conference table. “However, I thought that some of what I’ve found could be important.” He licked his lips and paced a little. “First, the technology implanted in the three of you is not exactly Ancient…but it is based on an Ancient design.” He touched a remote and the computer screen beside him lit up. “Rodney found this before he and Teyla left.”
On the screen was a schematic of something that looked a lot like the collars. “It was developed to curb criminal tendencies.” Carson said. “Though, the devices you’re wearing are quite advanced from these. It would appear that this was the inspiration.”
Carson sighed and looked up at them, his eyes dancing from Sam’s to Dean’s and off to Elizabeth’s. “So far I’ve found no way to remove them. In fact, in Dean’s case, the device is so entwined with his body, I’m not sure that removing it will be wise.”
“I’m sure Rodney will bring back more information.” John said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Unconsciously, Dean reached for his thigh under the table, rubbing a gentle hand along his inseam. John cleared his throat. “What else, Carson?”
“Oh, yes. Both of them have the ATA gene. Sam here has the highest concentration of it I’ve ever seen.” Carson looked at Sam, his eyes narrowing, then he looked away. “Both of them are fairly healthy, though there are some anomalies on Sam’s blood work. I’ll want to draw fresh samples to double check the results.”
“What sorts of anomalies?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. There’s a protein marker in his blood work I’ve never seen before. I just want to double check it.”
“Anything else we should know, Doc?” John asked. He was standing, Dean following.
“Just give me a few minutes alone with Sam here. I’ll have him back to you in a jiffy.”
Sam looked at John and John nodded. Sam followed Carson into the next room, lifting his hip to sit on the bed when Carson gestured to it. Carson pulled on gloves and smiled a little as a nurse handed him a tray with a syringe on it and several vials for blood.
“Is there anything you want to tell me, young man?” Carson asked as he wrapped rubber tubing around Sam’s upper arm.
Sam frowned. “Don’t think so.”
Carson dismissed the nurse. “Is there a particular reason you haven’t told anyone that Dean is your brother?”
Sam started and Carson stuck the needle into his arm. “I’m sorry?”
Carson chuckled. “Did ya’ think I wouldn’t find out? I’m testing your DNA, Son. It was fairly obvious you were related.”
Sam bit his lip and contemplated how to handle this. He’d promised Dean no one would know. “Okay. Yeah. He’s my brother. But…” He shook his head. “Look…we’ve had to…John can’t know. Okay?”
It was Carson’s turn to frown, straightening up and flicking his eyes up from the vial filling with blood to Sam’s face. “Why?”
Sam sighed. How do you tell a virtual stranger that you want your brother to fuck you and John is making that happen? “We’ve had to…do things…and John would feel even more guilty than he does now if he knew.”
“Things?” Carson asked, pressing gauze to Sam’s arm.
Sam blushed and looked down at his arm. “Look…this is like covered under doctor-patient privilege, right?”
Carson set the vials of blood aside and snapped the gloves off. Sam’s eyes lifted to meet his and he could see understanding there. Carson’s eyes flicked to the door where Dean was staring in at them. “Of course. Unless you’re in some sort of danger, or present a danger to Atlantis, anything you say here stays here.”
Sam rolled his eyes, searching for the words. “Dean…he and I didn’t have a typical childhood. Our relationship has never been strictly conventional. Obviously the Sagare saw that. We’ve never…but if John knew…” Sam glanced at the door again. Outside it John and Dean were pacing, the tension building.
“Is Colonel Sheppard forcing you to do anything—“
“No!” Sam shook his head. “No…no, nothing like that.” He rubbed at his neck, feeling the flush of his embarrassment. He’d never spoken about this…about wanting this…certainly not to a total stranger. “I wouldn’t I have my voice back if it was something I didn’t want.”
Carson seemed to concede that point. “No, I suppose not. But this is—“
“Yeah, I know.” Sam exhaled slowly and thought about it. “I never expected to ever…you know…do it…and Dean would never have let it happen…I’ve never even told him…and I know it’s….” He stopped and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to say it was wrong, because it didn’t feel wrong at all. “John—Colonel Sheppard did what he had to. Now we’re just trying to do the best we can with…this.”
Carson looked him over, the look on his face tense. Sam held his breath, half expecting the doctor to tell him it was wrong and illegal and demand it stop…or at the very least, call Sheppard back in and tell him the whole sordid story. Instead, Carson sighed and looked back to the door. Sam didn’t have to look to know Dean was staring at him. He could feel his concern, he didn’t like Sam in there alone.
Carson nodded and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Very well, Sam…I’ll get these tests underway. You had better get out there before your brother comes storming in after you.”
Sam looked up and Dean was staring at him through the window. “Yeah, okay. Thanks Doc. And…I mean for everything.”
Carson nodded, smiling encouragingly. “Your secret is safe with me, lad.”
Sam grinned and hopped off the bed, opening the doors to the explosion of relief from both John and Dean. Ronon, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. “Dinner?”
Sam shrugged a little. “I could eat.”
*~*~*
“You’re hiding something.” Ronon said suddenly and Sam turned from staring out the window. Ronon had been watching him since they’d gotten back, and Sam had tried to ignore him, staring out the window thinking about Dean. He and John were in the next room. If he thought about it, he could feel Dean’s arousal.
He didn’t want to think about it. “I…what?” Sam asked. Ronon was standing very, very close his arms crossed over his chest. The nearness of the man made Sam uncomfortable…warm. His thoughts skittered over all the many things he was hiding, screeching to a halt on Dean…on wanting Dean, on the fact that they were in fact brothers, that he couldn’t possibly know what someone like Ronon would think about that.
“You and him…Dean.” Ronon’s eyes were on him, making him nervous, like they could see past him, through him. “You’re hiding something.”
Sam shook his head. “No…we’re just…we…love each other.”
“No, I get that.” Ronon’s smile was fierce. He moved closer and Sam tried to step clear, but Ronon moved with him. “It isn’t that.”
Sam’s heart raced. He was sweating. “I’ve been watching you.” Ronon said, his arms lifting, bracing against the window, blocking Sam in. Sam’s breathing tightened. He licked his lips and tried not to stare at the muscles in those arms, tried not to think about the sexual arousal he was reading from Dean and John.
“It…it’s just…I’m trying to protect him.”
“You want him.” Ronon leaned in closer, his face close to Sam’s and Sam could smell him…could almost taste him. “You want him and that freaks him out.”
“He…he just…It’s not his…” Sam pressed himself back against the window. He was hard and he was having trouble thinking of anything that didn’t involve losing a whole lot of clothes on his way to the bed…or the floor…
Ronon leaned in close to Sam’s ear. “You get off on watching John fuck him. You get off on this whole situation.” Ronon was so close, yet he hadn’t touched. Sam closed his eyes, tried to deny what he was saying.
“It’s the damn collars.” He opened his eyes, defiance in them. “It’s John and his fucking sex on the brain.
Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Maybe…to some degree…but then, Dean would be just as into it as you. I think we both know he isn’t.” Sam swallowed, shaking his head. “You’re hard right now, and they’re not even here.”
“No. It’s…they’re…I can feel them.” Sam was hard, and he couldn’t tell if it was Ronon’s proximity or Dean’s arousal in the next room or John’s for that matter…and fuck, but he needed to get away, needed to stop his questions. Needed to…
Ronon’s right hand moved and grabbed him, squeezing his stiff cock even through his pants. Sam gasped and tried to move away but Ronon pushed him back into the glass. “So…what is it…he’s not into guys?”
His hand worked over the length of Sam’s dick, his fingers pressing into it as Sam’s eyes rolled closed. “Or is it something else?” Sam was already close, and yet…Ronon’s hand stopped, holding him. Sam opened his eyes, Ronon’s face hovering so close.
“Is it something about you?”
Sam pushed the panic away and licked his lips. “Me? Dean…he…he’d never want this…not like I did.”
Ronon nodded, and Sam could see his mind working, realized he’d said too much. He leaned forward, taking away the inches that separated them, his lips brushing over Ronon’s. Ronon growled, his hand tightening, stroking. Sam pushed against his hand, wanting to come, to derail the conversation. Ronon knew what he was doing though, pushing Sam back. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you come.”
Sam bit back a whimper of need. A little truth was called for here; somehow he knew that Ronon would know if it was a total lie. “He’s…we grew up together.” He didn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Fuck, he couldn’t have said that.
“Your brother?” It was more a statement than a question, Ronon’s eyes seeking his out. Sam’s eyes went wide, his whole body stiffened, and his cock jerked in Ronon’s hand. “That’s it?” There was no horror in his face, no revulsion…in fact all Sam was reading off Ronon now was lust.
Sam shoved him, but the big man barely moved. “No…no…” Sam had promised him no one would know…and now the doctor knew and Ronon was thinking it and…Sam shook his head. “No…we…grew up together…we lived on the road together…He’s always protected me.”
“So…your brother.” Ronon said, his eyebrow raised and his expression clearly indicating his disbelief. His hand fondled Sam’s cock which was still hard despite his fear. “You want your brother. You want your brother to fuck you.” His voice was low, sultry, dripping with lust.
Sam squirmed. “No. You’re not listening to me.”
“Oh, I hear the words coming from your mouth Sam…and I feel the response here.” He squeezed his cock and just like that Sam came, groaning and leaning in to Ronon.
“Fuck you.” Sam said pushing at him again. Ronon’s hand squeezed his cock all the harder. Sam gasped involuntarily.
“Maybe…but that isn’t what you really want, is it? Maybe I’ll fuck you instead.” Ronon growled, his hands fumbling now with Sam’s pants. “You like that don’t you? Want someone else to take charge. Want it rough.” He got the pants open and Sam bumped his head on the window.
Ronon’s hand was on the over-sensitive skin of his cock. “Yes.” Sam whispered, surging forward toward him.
*~*~*
Dean paced the small room, biting on his thumb. He’d already bitten his nails down to nothing, so all he had left was the tip of his thumb stuck between his teeth while he paced. He was nearly hard, the thoughts rolling off of John driving him crazy, even with John trying to sit and do performance evaluations…or something. He hadn’t really been paying attention.
John sighed in frustration and put down his stylus. “Dean?”
Dean rolled his eyes and collapsed into the chair, his thumb ending up right back between his teeth. Dean’s mind flushed with images of him sucking something else entirely. He sighed and pulled his thumb out of his mouth, wiping it on his pants and crossing his arms.
More images, of Ronon biting John’s shoulder and John biting over his ass. Dean sucking on long fingers. A hard cock sliding into his mouth. His thumb was back between his teeth again. His eyes glanced up to find Sheppard bent back over his computer screen. Dean’s eyes rolled closed and he let his thumb slip further into his mouth, imagining it was something else, sucking at it lightly.
John shifted in his seat and Dean yanked his thumb out, shaking his head. Dean sighed again and got up to go back to pacing. “You could go join Sam and Ronon. They’re close enough we shouldn’t have to worry.” John looked at the door to the adjoining room, then his eyes got wide. Dean felt a rolling wave of lust and sex emanating from Sam…amplified by John. “Or maybe you should let them be for the moment.”
Dean squinted at him, and got the impression of Sam and Ronon ripping at each other’s clothes. He growled and rubbed his hands over his face. This not talking thing was getting very old. His erection was starting to hurt. He closed his eyes and stalked over to John, shaking his head in disbelief of what he was about to do.
He grabbed John’s hand and held it to his crotch. It was the clearest and easiest way he knew to express his need…and at this point that’s exactly what it was. Need.
“Whoa. Okay. I get it.” John nodded and licked his lips. “What…okay…let’s try this.” John blew out softly and opened Dean’s pants. Dean sighed in relief as his very hard cock sprang free. John eyed it for a moment, then licked the tip. Dean groaned and rocked forward as if being pulled. If not for John’s hands on his hips, he might have buried himself in the Colonel’s mouth.
Obviously the man had some experience, his tongue delved deliciously down the side of Dean’s cock and back up to the tip and Dean couldn’t help but fist a hand in John’s hair. The added contact only heightened the flow of thoughts and images until Dean was reeling from the sensations, and the only things keeping him on his feet was his hand in John’s hair and John’s hands on his hips.
*~*~*
Sam and Ronon battled toward a bed, shedding clothes as they went, pulling and stumbling and nipping at one another until Sam’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he was falling forward, Ronon catching him and turning him, mindful of his injured arm, yet on top of him and already using his position to his advantage.
Sam tried to roll them, but Ronon’s extra weight played against him and before he could make an adjustment, Ronon’s cock had breached his ass, no prep other than the playing earlier…it burned and Sam bucked, but it was more a token than any real need to escape. Ronon’s hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head back. “John has trouble really being rough…but I don’t….this what you want, Sam?”
Ronon pushed in against Sam’s prostate and his vision swam. “Yeah…yeah…what I want.” Another wave of something came over him. Want. With it he got the impression of Dean’s cock in John’s mouth. “God…fuck…”
“My pleasure.” Ronon’s hips snapped forward and Sam grabbed handfuls of blanket, turning his face into the mattress as he groaned.
“Harder.” Sam gasped and Ronon obliged, his hands pressing fingerprints into Sam’s skin as he pounded him and Sam’s cock screamed for attention.
*~*~*
Dean was going to go insane. It was like watching porn in his brain, only it stared his little brother and the only man Dean had ever known who could dwarf Sam even when they were the same height. Add to that the way John was working his cock and Dean should have been exploding buckets of come from his cock.
Only he wasn’t. It hurt even more now, and he pulled back, groaning as John’s mouth released him with a pop.
“What? What’s wrong?” John asked.
Dean shook his head, frustrated beyond imagining and gesturing at John’s groin. Obviously something about this damn thing made it so he had to take care of John first.
“What?”
Dean gave him a look that he hoped conveyed “you’re an idiot” with convincing sincerity and dropped to one knee, gasping as his cock came in contact with John’s knee. He made quick work of freeing John’s erection and without thinking about it he opened his mouth and swallowed him, making John jump and thrust upward. Dean adjusted for depth and angle and worked hard to make him come quickly to ease his own pain.
*~*~*
The bed shook with the force of Ronon’s thrusting and Sam’s voice was already raw with the way he was groaning, half words and curses and moans worse than any porn soundtrack, begging and dirty words to egg the man on. Ronon roared as he came, shoving the bed into the wall as he shoved into Sam.
Sam’s cock scraped across the bed, stuttering in the blanket until it was too much and he was coming hard, yelling into the mattress and pushing back against Ronon before collapsing onto the bed.
Ronon lay on top of him, panting, his hands still on Sam’s hips. The skin under his fingers was indented when he finally released Sam and stood, popping his neck, before reaching down to help Sam up.
“John can’t know yet.” Ronon said casually as if Sam had somehow admitted that Dean was something other than a childhood friend. He went in search of his clothes.
“I agree.” Sam said, moving a little more stiffly as he too went in search of clothes. He watched Ronon for a minute. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he could see Ronon would make a good ally. “And Dean…he can’t know that you know. Not yet.”
Ronon nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He couldn’t tell if Ronon was okay with the revelation, or just relieved that Sam’s secret wasn’t something more damaging.
Sam was filled with the sudden urge to go to Dean, to help relieve his obvious distress. “I…Dean…I gotta…” He pulled on his pants and went to the door.
Dean was on his knees in front of John, his head bobbing over John’s cock. Sam slipped in beside him, his hand moving between his brother and John’s leg to cup his cock. Dean pulled up and looked at him, then shuddered as Sam found a rhythm that was obviously working.
He closed his eyes and went back to work on John. It was only a minute or so and John stiffened, thrusting up and coming with a long, low groan. As soon as Dean’s mouth came off, swallowing, his own cock started spewing onto the floor. He collapsed against Sam for a minute, then slowly pulled himself together and stood up.
He shook his head when Sam reached for him. “Dean…I—“ But Dean was gone, stalking away past Ronon in the doorway and off toward the bathroom. Sam heard him slam his fist against the wall, guessing he would have slammed the door if he could. “He’s not much for afterglow.” Sam said with a half smile.
John shook his head. “He came to me this time. That’s progress, right?”
Sam shrugged and picked himself up off the floor. “I’ve been thinking. We’re used to being…active. He needs something to do.”
John looked up at him, eyebrows arching. His mouth curved up in a wicked smirk and Sam blushed, rolling his eyes. “Something other than sex. Something to burn off some energy, give him a purpose.”
“What, like a job?”
Sam smirked at that. “He’s never had one of those. No…I was thinking maybe a work out schedule…he’s a fighter. We haven’t trained in a while…what with the whole slave thing…and you know…finding ourselves in another galaxy and then there’s the sex…” He realized he was rambling and forced himself to stop.
“Sparring?” Ronon offered. “We could set something up.”
“There’s the whole proximity thing.” John said, chewing on the stylus in his hand. He sat back in his chair, looking up at Ronon who was still leaning in the doorway. “But that seems to be getting better.”
“You and Dean?” Sam asked, turning to Ronon. He got a decided mental image of his brother and Ronon sparing, half naked and sweaty. John groaned in echo, then cleared his throat. “We could…watch.”
“Okay. Tomorrow morning. But make it casual.” John said, looking up at Ronon.
Ronon snorted and reached out to ruffle John’s hair, chuckling as he ducked away from Ronon’s hand. “I’m sleeping in my quarters then.” He pulled John into kiss him and Sam tried not to watch, turning instead to see Dean coming out of the bathroom toward them, wrapped in a towel and still dripping. John groaned and Ronon let him go, turning to Sam and kissing him just as deeply before he moved past Dean and let himself out.
Sam blushed as Dean stared at him, then cleared his throat and excused himself to go shower the come from his ass.
*~*~*
Dean woke early the next morning with Sam’s body wrapped protectively around him, one leg casually pinning Dean’s to the bed. In the other bed, John slept, snoring lightly. It was warm and oddly comfortable…even comforting. Sam’s breath brushed over his ear. Dean closed his eyes and sighed.
He had to wonder how much of what he was feeling was coming from the damn collar. It wasn’t like him. Yet, he felt no urge to push Sam away, no need to escape the bed. In fact, he was feeling a little like he wanted to—“
No. Dean opened his eyes. He was going to draw the line there. He wasn’t voluntarily making a move on his brother. His brother. It should seem odd that he had to remind himself of that, but what seemed odd was that it should matter.
Sam was a good looking guy, and Dean was…flexible. He shook his head and shifted so that he was more on his back, less of his body pressed against Sam’s. Sam scooted closer, his head rolling onto Dean’s shoulder, and before he’d thought better of it, Dean was pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead. His lips lingered there, fingers rising to brush the soft curls of hair from his temple.
Warmth, a flood of feeling rushed through him, love, affection…desire. Sam. It startled him to realize that this wasn’t coming from John, who was still sleeping, not dreaming…not projecting his endless thoughts about sex in various places and positions…Dean looked at Sam’s face, peaceful in his sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time Sam had slept so deeply, so free of nightmares.
Sam who wanted him. Sam who said he’d always wanted him. Sam who had accepted this…and got his voice back to prove it. Sam’s hand was on his thigh, high up and close to his cock, it’s heat seeping in to Dean’s skin.
He was so beautiful like this. Beautiful and calm, safe. The last year had been hard on him, and the fear he knew Sam had been hiding, holding on to because of things the demon had said.
Dean breathed deeply and kissed him again, soft lips, a little lower on his forehead…then the end of his nose. He had to tilt Sam’s head back to reach his lips. His stomach fluttered. It was barely a touch, not really a kiss…it was…not enough. Dean tried again, pressing his lips to Sam’s softly.
It was…nice. At least his cock thought so. That was maybe more than he bargained for. He pulled away, but when he did, Sam’s eyes were open. “Dean?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was nothing to say, even if he could say it. Sam’s eyes were sleep-filled and hazy, but his hand brushed up on Dean’s thigh, closer still to the cock that was waking to the idea…and damn but it still wasn’t John’s thought in his head when Sam lifted his head and Dean wanted to taste his mouth.
He didn’t want to think about it, so he acted, he pulled Sam to him, pulled him to his mouth and slid his tongue past unresisting lips. Sam moaned and moved so that his back wasn’t as twisted, welcoming the kiss, his tongue dancing around and over Deans. When they pulled apart Dean was breathing heavy and his cock had grown to fill Sam’s hand.
He risked a glance to the other bed, got a vague image of John’s dream about flying and looked back at Sam. He lifted a finger to his lips in a “Shh” gesture. Sam nodded, his eyes wide.
He didn’t know what he was doing…he just knew that his heart was pounding in his chest and his mouth was filled with the taste of Sam…and it was making him crazy. Sam had said Dean would never chose this…would never accept this…but Dean was starting to think maybe…Sam’s hand stroked him and Dean shuddered.
It wasn’t about the physical pleasure…Sam’s lips were on his and his thoughts short circuited. When he could think again, Sam was kissing his way down Dean’s chest, pausing to lick and suck and bite at his nipple until Dean was arching up, his legs wide as his calves pressed to the bed.
Sam’s hand left Dean’s cock and both hands slid up Dean’s body, drawing his arms up and pinning his wrists under one massive hand, the hand not wrapped in bandages and plaster. His mouth then went back to the teasing, moving to his other nipple, laving over it with the flat of his tongue, then flicking the tightened nub with the tip before closing teeth over it and tossing his head.
Dean gasped and thrust upward with his hips, craving friction. Sam’s eyes sparkled when he lifted his eyes. Alive with passion and lust and the love that had always been there…Dean’s breathing was speeding up and his skin was starting to get sweaty. Sam’s big hand held his wrists captive as he moved back to the other nipple. Dean grunted, trying to direct Sam down, to his needy cock, but Sam ignored him.
“Dean.” He whispered it…soft, over the damp skin, and Dean didn’t think his name alone should do that to him. He wanted to hear it again…the sound of Sam’s voice whispered and raw. “Dean. Dean. Dean.”
He pulled on his hands, but Sam wasn’t letting go. Sam. Sam. He wanted his hands. He wanted his voice. He wanted to yell and make Sam’s evil mouth leave his fucking chest alone and pay more attention to the rest of him. He tried to make as much noise as he could without the use of his vocal chords. Sam smiled at him…fucking grinned…and went right back to tormenting him, his tongue plowing a trail down his abs and circling his navel.
“Open your eyes Dean.”
That voice wasn’t Sam’s. Dean looked up to find Sam relinquishing control of his hands to John, who was on the bed with them. Dean hadn’t felt him wake, hadn’t sensed him moving, he’d been too focused on Sam. “Watch.” Dean’s eyes flicked to Sam who was kneeling between his legs, spreading Dean open. His cock stood hard and curved toward him.
Sam started on his left knee, lifting and bending and licking under…nipping lightly…kissing up until he reached Dean’s hip…then circling his navel again, sliding over tight muscle and into the scratchy patch of pubic hair above his cock. Dean’s guttural groan rocked the bed. Sam. Sam.
John was behind Dean now, Dean’s head pillowed on John’s stomach, and he could see himself through John’s eyes, see Sam…god, he could feel Sam…John held Dean’s wrists behind his head. “He wants you. He wants you to want this.” John whispered. “He told me he loves you so much it hurts. Let go Dean…just let go.”
Dean dragged air in and lifted his head to see Sam suck one of his balls into his mouth. Fuck. Sam. He grunted, knowing it made only a little sound. His legs trembled. Sam’s tongue touched the base of his cock…just above the balls…just…touched and was gone. Dean could see the pre-come glistening at the slit…until Sam’s tongue licked it up and curled up to savor the liquid like it was precious.
Hot, moist hair against his skin. Dean pulled on the hands that held him, wanting to pull Sam in, down. Please….Fucking please…Sam…just…John’s hands held him and yet he could almost feel those hands slithering over his skin, tweaking nipples and Sam’s mouth…Sam’s fucking mouth was there…right there, just hovering over his cock, his eyes on Dean’s.
His hands held Dean’s knees, spread open and bare and fuck…fuck…A flick of Sam’s tongue over the head made Dean buck up, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. Another, and another…and Dean was sure his brother was trying to drive him crazy…The tongue circled him, over the head, under it. Then…slowly, those lips closed over his cock and Dean let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hips shoving up. Sam’s hands moved to his hips, pushing him back down…and his mouth was gone…back to kissing his hips, licking his thighs.
“Dean.” The word whispered over spit-slick flesh was like skin against him. Dean pushed back into John, his hips coming off the bed again and no amount of pushing was going to get him back down, Sam licked the underside, tracing the long vein and flicking off the top before he swallowed Dean and just like that, Dean was coming, screaming, his body rigid and pushed up into Sam.
When it was over, he collapsed bonelessly to the bed, his brother’s name echoing around in his head. It took a minute to realize it wasn’t only in his head. John released him and Sam slid up to lay across him, kissing over his face frantically. “Sam. Sam. Sam.” His voice was hoarse, cracked…but his voice.
“Dean…god, Dean…” Sam rolled them so that John could move, so that Dean was on top of him and looking down at him. Suddenly he had to pee so bad he wasn’t sure he’d make the bathroom. He lurched up and away, holding himself as he ran.
He leaned against the wall as the pain ripped through him and a metallic thunk told him he’d passed the device, just as Sam had. He looked up as he flushed, to find Sam’s face, all shiny and sweaty and pleased. Dean shook his head. He didn’t know what to say.
“You okay?” Sam asked finally, some of the pleasure slipping from his face to be replaced with concern. He came a few steps closer and lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek.
“Yeah, Sam. I’m good.” He was…better than good.
Sam kissed him, and Dean let him. His brother loved him. He loved his brother. All the rest could be as fucked up as this was and that didn’t matter. They were Winchesters. Fucked up was their middle name.
They were both barefoot, bare-chested, sweaty. John shifted uncomfortably and Sam grinned cheekily at him. Ronon circled a little more warily around Dean after getting put down once. Dean was going to have a bit of a black eye, but he was still on his feet.
John had to admit, the kid had skills. “What kind of hunting did you say you two did?”
Sam looked back at him and shrugged. “You know…hunting.”
John frowned at him for a minute, then looked back to the floor where Ronon and Dean grappled, muscles bulging in their arms and calves as they pushed their bodies toward one another.
He’d locked down the gym so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Dean was still pretty self-conscious about the whole voice thing, and John wasn’t really eager to share this view. Dean’s foot slipped and he went down, but he took Ronon with him, rolling backward and ending up on top of the bigger man, even landing a punch hard across Ronon’s jaw before Ronon threw him off.
“I told you, stop holding back.” Dean said as he climbed to his feet. “I can take it.”
Ronon shrugged and charged. They went down again, wrestling around on the mats. John exhaled and tried to force his mind to stay on the match. Dean fell back against the mat, calling for a time out as he looked at John. “Dude! Cut me a break.”
Ronon helped Dean up off the floor and they both came for towels to dry off. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight this guy with that in my head?” Dean asked.
John chuckled. Actually, he kind of did. Whenever he and Ronon fought he had to deal with it. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you doing that and think about anything else?” John asked. Dean shot him a dirty look. “Sorry. Maybe I should…wait in the hall?”
“Don’t you have work to do or something?” Dean asked, wiping his sweaty face.
“Proximity issue.” John said, though he held up his hands when Dean looked like he was going to take a punch. “Okay, I promise…I’m only going to think about fairies and lollipops.” Dean dropped his towel and headed back to the mat and John tried. He really tried to think about fairies…only they came out looking more like angels…and they had Dean’s face…and these big wings that erupted out of his muscular back…He shook his head and licked his lips. He needed to get this thing under control.
He looked up and Dean had a hand locked around Ronon’s neck. Both were motionless, straining, and John couldn’t help but see them kissing…Dean pulling Ronon down, lifting up…then Dean was kissing, his foot behind Ronon’s, knocking him to the floor and straddling him.
“Fuck!” Dean stood, pushing off Ronon’s chest. Ronon was laughing. Sam jumped up and went to Dean.
John was about to say something, when his intercom came to life. “Colonel Sheppard.”
“Go ahead Elizabeth.”
“Rodney and Teyla are on their way back from the Sagare. I figured you’d want to hear what they have to say.”
John nodded and both Dean and Ronon moved to pull on shirts and shoes. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
With any luck his team would once again pull them out of a tough spot. A little bit of Teyla’s negotiating, and some of Rodney’s brilliance and they’d be sending the boys home to Earth. John stood, his eyes stealing over Dean’s ass. Problem was, John wasn’t really sure he wanted them to leave.
