What He Wants and Can Never Have, Supernatural, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: What He Wants and Can Never Have (Part One)
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Bobby, mentions of Jess, Mary
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000 (in total)
Summary: AU off of "What is And Should Never Be" - Sam comes to rescue Dean from the djinn, only he gets caught himself. The wish he makes changes everything.

A/Ns & Warnings; Written for wincestaholic who paid a ridiculous sum of money for me during the special Sweet Charity to benefit the WGA Foundation. This will be posted in four to five parts over the next four or five days or until finished (as I'm still tweaking and finishing).




It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sam knew it. Knew it as sure as he knew every single freckle, every scar on his brother’s skin. As sure as he knew every sigh, every expression, every move his brother made.

He kept his eyes closed. He kept his arms around Dean’s sleeping body, holding on to what he knew he had no right to want. What he had no right to own. What he had no business holding on to.

Very soon he knew he would have to leave this warm bed, leave the feeling of Dean in his arms. Forever.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was sleep-drunk, slurry and heavy. His hand was hot against Sam’s pulling it over Dean’s hip and dipping down under the blanket to where his cock was just as hot, hard and thick. Dean wiggled his ass back at Sam, pressing against Sam’s own erection, making Sam moan. “Slut.”

Sam pressed kisses into the back of Dean’s neck, letting him curl Sam’s fingers around his cock. Sam pulled along its length slowly. He breathed in the warm smell of Dean as Dean moved enough that Sam’s cock was sliding through his crack, up to the hole that was still loose and lubed from the sex only hours before, when they’d come in from the cold and fell together.

He hadn’t slept. He’d held his brother and fought himself. Fought the truth.

How long had it been? How easily had he given up the truth and surrendered himself to the illusion…to the wish? A week? Maybe more.



He’d dreamed of a djinn. He’d dreamed that Dean was caught and Sam had gone to rescue him, only he’d been caught as well. It was so real. He could smell the stale, dank air, the stench of rotting bodies. He could hear the whimpering cries, the scurrying rats. Dean’s face swam in front of him, his eyes open, dead flat. He’d screamed his brother’s name before he woke up sweating and scared.

Beside him Dean moaned and pulled Sam back to the bed, back to him. “Sleep Sammy. Too early.”

He was naked and as Dean pulled him up against his body, Sam realized Dean was as well. Sam pulled away, jumped out of bed. Dean half sat up. “What?”

Dean was sleep mussed and confused. Not half as confused as Sam though. “I…I have to go…” He looked around him, trying to place where they were and where the bathroom was. His hands unconsciously covered his nakedness as he headed for the bathroom.

Dean snorted. “Modesty won’t get you anywhere Sammy!”

He got into the bathroom and shut the door. Something wasn’t right. Because he and Dean…they were brothers. And no matter how much Sam had ever wanted…He shook his head and stared at himself in the mirror. Maybe he’d hit his head. Maybe he was dreaming.

Maybe.

He splashed cold water over his face, then realized.

The djinn.

He wasn’t dreaming. The thing with the djinn had been real.

Sam peeked out the bathroom door. Dean was going back to sleep, his naked body stretched out on the bed, one arm thrown casually over his eyes. Sam closed the door and leaned against it.

It was said that the djinn could bestow a wish. The heart’s fondest desire.

Sam shook his head. No. Dean would never…No matter how much Sam wished, no matter what magic…Sam turned to the shower. He stopped, spotting a scar he didn’t remember getting. He lifted his right arm and inched closer to the mirror. Nearly an inch thick in places, it stretched from the shoulder blade onto his stomach.

He needed time to think, to figure out what had happened. Because djinn’s were dangerous. And this? This couldn’t be real. Even if it was everything he’d wished for since he was a teenager. Evil, supernatural wish granting creatures were never a good thing.

He got in under the water and tipped his face into the stream. He was so caught up in his self convincing that he didn’t hear the door open, didn’t see Dean slip into the room, not until the shower curtain moved and Dean’s body was crowding in beside his.

“Dean?”

He grinned up at Sam and reached around him for the soap. “What? It sounded good. And neither one of us really wanted to get up and clean up after…” He waggled his eyebrows at Sam and tilted his ass up.

Sam shook his head and moved out of the spray, reaching to get out, but Dean’s hand on his waist stopped him. “Don’t run away. We’ve got hours before we have to be out of the room.” Dean’s lips pressed to Sam’s chest and Sam froze. Dean pulled back frowning at him. “You okay?”

No. He really wasn’t okay. “I…dreams.”

Dean’s face was instantly concerned, his body shifting closer, his hand caressing Sam’s face. “Dad again?”

“Dad?” Sam breathed the word. Something in the way Dean said that sent chills up his spine.

“It wasn’t your fault Sam. You did what you had to.”

Sam shook his head, not understanding. “What I had to?”

“It was what he wanted, Sam.”

Sam shivered and pulled away from him. He didn’t like how that sounded. He reached for a towel and got out of the shower. Everything was weird. This was wrong…in more ways than the whole Dean kissing him thing.

Dean followed him. “Sam. You gotta listen to me.”

“No. I don’t.” Sam countered, looking for his duffle bag. “I need to get dressed and I need coffee and I need to figure out….” His voice trailed off. Dean’s hand closed around his wrist and tugged.

“Sam. You gotta stop doing this. Every time you dream about it you get like this. That thing inside him was going to kill me. You saved me.”

Understanding slowly dawned. He could almost see the scene in front of him. The demon. The colt. “I shot him.”

Dean nodded, drawing Sam closer. His kiss was soft, his lips tender and warm. “You saved me. You killed the SOB that killed Mom. He was proud of you. I’m proud of you.” Dean’s tongue slipped into Sam’s mouth, his kiss deepening, his arms sliding around Sam’s body.

Sam’s brain was short circuiting. The feeling of Dean’s lips melting any resistance he might have offered. “Come back to bed. Let me show you how much.”

He wanted to…God but he wanted to…especially when Dean dropped his towel and stood there proud and naked and beautiful…when Dean snagged his hand and tugged…when Dean licked his lips and cocked his head toward the bed…and before Sam really registered it, Dean was pushing him down on the bed, his hands sliding over Sam’s skin, hot and gentle. His lips and fingers knew Sam’s body…knew when and where to touch, when to slide, when to hold.

Sam groaned as Dean’s body slid along his, flesh to flesh…and he couldn’t have stopped the erection had he wanted to. His head reeled…because this was Dean…this was every fantasy he’d ever had about Dean. He gasped, pulling Dean’s face up away from his stomach, up to his lips, kissing him frantically, needy and wanting.

“Easy, Sammy…easy.” Dean let Sam roll them so he was on top, his knee finding its way between his brother’s thighs.

“Want you so much.” Sam whispered fervently against Dean’s lips.

“You have me Sam.” Dean whispered back, his legs falling open in obscene invitation. His hand captured Sam’s cock and guided him in toward his ass, tilting his hips.

“Wait. Slow.” Sam breathed.

“You’re such a girl.” Dean sighed. “You’d think it was your first time.”

Sam’s heart thundered in his chest. He expected it to be more awkward, difficult…but Dean was relaxed and open and Sam’s cock seemed to just slide inside him…deep and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make himself move. He wanted this…had wanted it as long as he could remember and now…now he had it and he wanted it to last forever. Dean’s hips hitched. His hands came to rest on Sam’s hips. “Sam?”

Sam nodded, his face brushing over Dean’s chest. He kissed over muscle, up to the hollow at the base of Dean’s neck. Only then did he pull out slowly, then slowly eased back into the heat, the comfort.

He blinked back tears. He couldn’t let Dean see him cry over this…because maybe it wasn’t Sam’s first time, but it was his first time with Dean…his first love…Sam’s hands slid up his brother’s torso, capturing his arms and guiding them up over his head. Dean gripped the headboard as if he knew what Sam wanted. “Don’t let go.” Sam whispered. He wanted to take his time. He wanted this to be everything he could make it…because it wouldn’t be long and Sam would wake up…or he’d be dead…and if he let Dean control it, he somehow knew it would be over too fast.

He kept his body moving slowly, his hips bringing his cock out of his brother, then sliding back inside while his hands explored his skin, tracing over freckles and scars…some intimate and familiar, some new.

There was a bruise dusting the skin just off to the left of Dean’s chest and Sam lavished kisses over the spot, licking lightly along ribs until Dean groaned, his eyes rolling closed, his ass lifting in anticipation of Sam’s stroke.

There was a scar, small and curling and almost pretty just under and inside his right nipple. Sam traced it with his tongue, sucked it lightly between his lips.

Dean’s legs curled around him, pulling him closer. Sam whispered his name over skin damp from his kisses. Breathed it as though anything more would make it all disappear. He’d waited his whole life for this…believed it would never be…could never be…

“Sammy…” Dean’s eyes were open now, staring into him. Sweat dripped from Sam’s nose as he flexed his hips. Sam lowered his face to Dean’s, capturing his mouth. Dean’s lips opened under his, just opened.

Sam licked into Dean’s mouth, over tongue and teeth and back to his beautiful, perfect lips. He’d always loved Dean’s lips.

He’d wished for this. Since Sam was a horny 15 year old watching his brother work under the hood of the Impala. He groaned, as Dean’s ass clenched around him, and he couldn’t hold on any longer. Sam came, collapsing forward.

Dean’s hard cock rubbed against his stomach. Sam lifted up enough to get a hand between them, wrapping that hand around Dean’s cock as he kissed him. Dean’s breathing sped up and his body tightened, coming quickly and spilling onto his stomach.

Sam panted into the crook of Dean’s neck until Dean grunted at him, then rolled slowly to the side. For a long moment the room was silent, then Dean was getting up off the bed. “You still want that coffee?”

Sam looked up at him, startled. “Uh…yeah, I guess.”

Dean picked a dirty t-shirt off the floor and wiped his stomach. “Get dressed then. I’m not taking that naked ass anywhere.” He closed the bathroom door and Sam heard the shower turn back on.

He sat on the bed for a long time, staring at the bathroom door and wondering when he was going to wake up.



He didn’t wake up though, and two hours later they were on the road. Side by side in the Impala, driving through half familiar back lanes and country roads.

“You sure you’re okay, Sam?” Dean asked, glancing at him. “I mean, you hit your head pretty hard when you hit the wall last night…and you’re too quiet.”

Sam rubbed his head distractedly. “I’m just…a little confused.”

“Confused?”

Sam nodded. “I…had a dream and it felt real…and now…confused.”

Dean frowned at him. “What kind of dream?”

He knew that look, but it took him a minute to place. “Not that kind of dream,” he reassured. He hadn’t had any of the prophetic, psychic type dreams since…since the one that led them to Oregon….where Dean had told him what their father had said about Sam.

“You promised you’d tell me if they started up again.” Dean said quietly, his eyes intense. “You promised.”

“I will, it wasn’t like that.”

“Not since Dad.” Dean insisted, looking at Sam with that intensity. It made Sam woozy.

Not since Dad. Which means they never went to Oregon. Never met Andy. Who was probably dead…or corrupted by his brother. Sam swallowed and nodded. “We…things were different…between us…and…there was a djinn…”

“What, like a genie? Like Barbara Eden? She was hot.”

Sam sighed in frustration. “No, a djinn. They…” He sighed. “The lore says that they feed on humans, but it doesn’t really say how. They grant the human being a wish, and the payment is their souls.”

“Pretty heavy price for a year’s supply of chocolate or something, isn’t it?”

Sam shrugged. “Not everyone wishes with their stomach Dean.”

“You are a like a walking encyclopedia of weird shit.” Dean looked at him again, his eyes narrowing. “What did you wish for Sammy?”

Sam shook his head. “Forget it, it was just a dream.” He looked up, starting. There was someone in the road. Looking right at Sam. He started to yell for Dean to watch the road, then realized that the man in the road was Dean, his eyes accusing.

The front of the Impala hit him and he vanished. Dean swerved off the road and parked. “You are starting to freak me out.”

“I thought…I saw something. In the road.”

Dean turned to face him. “Tell me what you wished for in that dream.”

Sam exhaled explosively. “You.”

“What?” Dean’s hand was warm on his shoulder and Sam fought the urge to shake it off.

“You. This.” He gestured between them. “I wanted you…wanted you to want me as much as I wanted you.”

Dean frowned at him. “Sam…you were the one who fought this for so long, kept telling me how wrong it was…right up until you had to decide between this and Stanford.”

Sam couldn’t quite look at him. Couldn’t believe him.

“You took that black dog off Dad that night, and it took out half the skin on your side.” He poked at the place where Sam had found the unexplained scar. Dean blushed and looked away. “I flew into the ER and into the exam room and kissed you. Took you by surprise. Dad was still yelling for me from the room down the hall. Told you I didn’t care about wrong…but maybe you should go, so you wouldn’t get hurt.” Dean smiled and kissed Sam’s hand.

That wasn’t the way Sam remembered it. His father had forbidden him from that hunt, a punishment for…something Sam couldn’t remember. Dean had teased him, ruffled his hair. Sam had gotten hard, just like he did whenever Dean touched him. Once his father and brother were gone, Sam had masturbated in the shower and laid down on his bed with his acceptance letter.

He’d decided then and there that he couldn’t be with Dean if he couldn’t be with Dean.

The arguments that followed were something of a relief. Let him distance himself from the gnawing desire, let him walk away.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

“Sam?”

“What if…” He looked up at Dean. His brother’s face was concerned, intense, beautiful. So what if this was the djinn? Did Sam really care?

“You’re thinking that maybe this is the dream?” Dean asked gently.

Sam nodded miserably. “What if…what if this isn’t how it’s supposed to be? What if the djinn changed it?”

To his surprise, Dean didn’t just laugh it off. “Okay encyclopedia boy, what do we know about djinn?”

Sam shrugged. “Not much. They’re mentioned in the Koran…but none of the lore is very clear.”

“But you said they grant wishes, and then take your soul?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you’re still here. Soul more or less in tact, right?”

Sam looked at him, hoping…more than hoping. His stomach tingled with butterflies. “I guess?” He wanted to believe that. He wanted this to be real. He wanted to kiss his brother…to touch him and be touched by him.

“Then that’s that. It was a dream. Now, we need to get moving, I promised Bobby we’d pick up that haunting in Bisbane.”



That was that. Sam let himself believe it. Even if the djinn had granted him this wish, to have his brother…to have Dean as his lover, his partner…even if…what harm was there? Nothing else had really changed. Their father was still gone, and so Sam had killed him in that cabin in the middle of no where instead of just wounding him…and yes, that meant the YED was gone too. That had to be a good thing, right?

And Sam had never gone to Stanford, so Jess might still be alive. And his father had never made a deal with a demon for Dean. He’d never told Dean his big secret, never made him the guardian over Sam’s soul.

Sam watched his brother as they drove, as they ate, as they researched the haunting of a town mall. Dean was…well Dean. Nothing was different about him. Except maybe his mood was lighter, his smile bigger.

And there was the fact that he kept palming Sam’s cock under the table at the library. Not to mention the filthy things he whispered in Sam’s ear as he got up from the table.

It could be all kinds of worse.

“I’m just going to put this stuff away.” Sam said, pulling away from Dean’s hand for the millionth time, and rolling his eyes at Dean’s pouting face. He piled up the books on local history. “You do the microfilm.”

He headed off into the stacks with the books. He was half hard from Dean’s playing, and his mind was on all the ways he could pay Dean back when they got back into the car. He shelved his books, and as he looked up, Dean was standing…just standing half way down the aisle.

Sam stood, squinting. He wasn’t real. Sam closed his eyes, breathed in and out. When he opened them, Dean was gone. He moved cautiously toward the spot where the apparition had been, looking around. His eyes roamed over the books and he slowly bent down, starting when he saw him again, on the other side of the stack.

Sam raced to the end of the row and around. Dean stood, his face pale, his eyes sunken. Sam moved toward him. “Dean?” He held out a hand and the image wavered. “You aren’t real.” Sam closed his eyes again and when he opened them, he was alone.

There was no doubt it was Dean…but not a ghost, not when Dean was near the front desk flirting with the librarian. What else could he be though?

Sam turned to leave, knocking a book off the shelf. He bent to pick it up and his hand shook as he read the title, Djinn in Myth and Folklore of the Middle East. He shoved the book onto the shelf and hurried out of the aisle.

Dean was waiting for him at the front door. “Let’s go get this thing.” Sam said, pushing the apparition Dean out of his mind.

“What happened?” Dean asked, pulling the car keys out of his pocket.

“Nothing, I just want to get the job done.” Sam put on his best lustful expression and leered at Dean over the roof of the Impala. “So I can finish what you started in there.”

Dean grinned. “Now, that’s a reason to get some work done.”