![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: What is Real and What Will Never Be
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, John, Mary, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Summary: AU of "What is and What Should Never Be", Sam was caught by the djinn when he came to find Dean, and when he finds himself in a world where both of his parents are still alive, he never wants to leave...
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wincestaholic who won me on Sweet Charity. Angsty brother sexing and some het.
The sun was bright, her hand in his was warm, comfortable. She kissed his cheek. "You nervous?" she asked as they opened the doors and slipped out of the rental car.
He sighed and looked at the house. Nervous didn't begin to cover it. She couldn't know he had no idea what to expect walking into that house. She had no idea that this wasn't real or right…she was alive and beautiful and wearing his ring and Sam was still reeling from waking up in her bed the night before. The plane ride and the idea of walking into the house…that house…he was filled with fear and dread.
Everything was perfect here. Jess was alive and apparently they were newly engaged. He was about to graduate law school. And here he was, about to take her into that house and tell his family the good news.
She couldn't know that his family was all dead, all but Dean who was…well, Sam wasn't sure where he was. He'd gone to find him…and woke up in bed beside Jess.
His hands were sweating as they walked up the sidewalk. The door burst open before they could even knock. "Uncle Sammy!" His legs were surrounded by tiny arms and a four year old with shaggy blond hair jumped against him excitedly.
"Hey, munchkin, let your Uncle Sammy get in the door." Sam froze. That was his father's voice. The door opened more and John Winchester stood there, larger than life, scooping up the wiggling child with a huge smile. He put the boy down inside the house and patted his rump. "Go help your mother."
"Dad." Sam blurted, moving into his open arms for the tightest hug he'd ever gotten. He was still trying to think past his father not being dead when he heard a female voice behind them.
"John, is that Sam and Jess?"
His father stepped aside and for a minute, Sam couldn't breathe. She came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, her blond hair pulled back off her face, her eyes sparkling. "Bobby came tearing through the kitchen screaming that Uncle Sammy and some girl were here." She slipped her arms around Sam and he responded slowly, then pulled her tight to him. "Hey…you okay?"
Sam sniffed back the emotion coursing through him and nodded. "I'm…perfect. Couldn't be better. I just…I missed you."
"You've only been gone a few months," she chided before reaching to embrace Jess. "I guess Bobby is too young to remember that he met you last spring."
Jess grinned and hugged John too. "He's four, and it was only that one day."
"John, why don't you take their things up to Sam's old room? Dean's in the living room." She pointed and Sam nodded. His mother took Jess by the hand and headed for the kitchen. "Liz is in the kitchen helping me put the finishing touches on pies."
Sam was reeling as he stepped into the living room, his eyes skipping over pictures and bookshelves and memorabilia from a life he didn't remember…a life that wasn't his.
"Well, if it isn't the college boy himself." Dean jumped up off the couch, turning off whatever football game he'd been watching. His arms spread wide and his smile was huge as he swept Sam up into a hug.
"Dean."
"Daddy!" The same shaggy headed blond came racing in from the kitchen, springboarding off the end of the sofa and at Dean, who caught him. "Mommy's chasing me!"
Sam watched, dumbfounded as Dean chuckled and turned toward the kitchen where a woman appeared, a towel in her hands. "I'm betting she was trying to wash that face." He turned Bobby to Sam, his grinning face covered in chocolate. "What do you think, Uncle Sammy? Do we save him from the evil washcloth monster?"
Despite how lost he was feeling Sam chuckled as the dark haired woman rolled her eyes and came across the room. "Your mother let him lick the bowl." Dean held Bobby while she washed his face, then let him loose to go tearing through the house. Dean kissed her, his hand cupping to her stomach.
Sam blinked, suddenly realizing she was pregnant. She chuckled when she saw his faced. "Didn't Dean tell you?"
"I---um…" Sam clearly needed to get caught up. He wasn't sure what this was or how it had happened, but he blinked and looked to Dean.
"Yeah, it's fast, I know. We…miscalculated." Dean chuckled. "Speaking of, she should be waking up. I'll check in on her."
"No need, Grandpa's got her." Sam turned to find his father coming down the stairs, an infant against his shoulder. Sam stared, open mouthed.
It was overwhelming. His brother was a father, twice over…with another on the way. His mother and father and Jess were alive. He wanted to pinch himself, but he already had bruises from doing that all morning.
Sam needed time to think, to figure out what had happened. He blinked and cleared his throat. "I, ah, think I left some of our stuff in the car."
"You always did pack like a girl, Sammy." Dean said and Sam had to bite off the involuntary correction to "Sam" as Dean clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Want some help?"
He shook his head. "No, Dean….I've got it. I'll just be a minute."
He let himself out the door and tried not to look like he was running away as he went to the car. Something had gone…well, not wrong. How could this be wrong? It was everything he'd ever wanted. It was everything he'd never known he wanted.
It was normal. It was real homes with real beds. It was a real relationship with his brother, not the fucked up, twisted thing he'd always known…the endless roads, shitty motels and the never-ending parade of demons and ghosts. When Dean looked at him, he was Sam Winchester, his younger brother…not the man he fucked into the wall so they could both forget the pain and fear and burning hurt in their bodies. There was no lust in those green eyes.
Normal.
Sam opened the trunk and fished out the backpack with his laptop and books. He didn't know how this had happened, or even if it was real…but he couldn't bring himself to care. He shouldered the backpack and turned to look at the house.
He was home.
--------
"Sam?"
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly, trying to right himself with the voice, his surroundings. It was still mostly dark, the bed lumpy, empty but for him. His head hurt like he'd pounded back a hell of a lot of alcohol. He could hear Dean, but he didn't see him right away. Not until he sat up, wincing as his sore ass pressed against the mattress and the bed creaked.
Dean was in the shadowed corner of the room, just past the window, arms crossed, watching Sam like he might explode or evaporate or maybe just like he wouldn't ever touch him again.
Sam sighed and hung his head.
It had been a week, and while they were both mostly back to normal physically, the possibilities…the temptation to surrender still haunted each of them. They hadn't talked about it much…and Sam less than Dean for a change.
There was no way he could tell Dean. Not when Sam knew that Dean had made the choices he did. Sam rubbed at his eyes. "What?"
Dean shook his head. "You were talking in your sleep."
Sam sighed again. He stood slowly, imagining he knew what he'd been saying. "Sorry." His hand fell to cover his nakedness, which was silly. For as long as they'd been fucking there wasn't a part of him Dean hadn't seen.
"You still miss her?" Dean's voice was soft, scratchy.
"Jess?" Dean flinched when Sam said her name. "Yeah, I guess. I probably always will, Dean."
--------
Blond hair spilled over her naked back as she pulled her t-shirt up and off and Sam couldn't help but reach for her, his fingers sliding through the curls, soft and light against his skin.
She turned over her shoulder, smiling at him. "You've been awfully quiet."
"Just thinking." Sam replied, both hands lifting as she turned to him now, cascades of hair mostly hiding her breasts. His hands went naturally to her waist, drawing her closer.
"About me?" she asked playfully, ruffling his hair.
"About us." Sam said, leaning in to press kisses between her breasts, breathing over her skin and breathing in the smell of her. He'd forgotten how intoxicating it was, this dizzying love he had with her…an emotion not all tangled up in the mixed up family dynamic he'd always known…the feeling of soft skin under his hands, the taste of her. His tongue darted out to taste and she giggled.
"What about us?"
He looked up at her. "About how well we fit together…how wonderful our lives are going to be…"
She smiled that smile at him, the one that told him he was being a cheesy dork and she loved it. He kissed over her naked breasts, his hands rising up her back to bring her closer. "About how much I want to lay you down on this bed and spread you open and kiss and lick you until you squeal."
Her hands were on his shoulder, pushing him back on the bed while she crawled up over him, landing with a knee on either side of his thighs. "You're the one who never wants to have sex in your parents house…afraid you can't keep quiet enough, that everyone will know…"
Her fingers pulled at the waistband of his boxers, brushing over his cock, which was well on its way to ready for more. She teased it out, her fingers firm as they stroked along his length. "I can keep quiet if you can." Sam whispered, his hands on her hips as he rolled them, landing her on her back on the mattress and hooking her panties with his thumb.
She pretended to struggle a little, but lifted her ass and legs to help him and when his hands slid up her thighs, she spread herself open for him. Sam's cock hurt with need for her, for this…something he hadn't had in so long…he squeezed the base to give himself a few minutes and leaned in, kissing over soft, tender skin, along her thigh, up to the tiny curls of hair that hid her clit. She squirmed as he sent his tongue in search of it, the tip curling just a little to flick over it rapidly a few times before he licked down through her slit in search of other places his tongue used to like exploring.
She was already wet, his tongue and fingers sliding into her with ease. "Sam." She hissed his name in the quiet, her fingers scrambling to his head, threading through his hair, tugging on him as he teased her open. He lifted his head and grinned up at her before diving back down, working two fingers inside of her while he licked and sucked over her clit, faster and faster until her thighs were pressing against his hands and her hips were bucking, shoving her pussy into his face. He sucked in on her clit, teasing it with just a bit of teeth and she pressed a pillow into her face, yelling into the pillow as she came.
Jess was still panting when Sam sank into her, his cock hot and needy. He nearly came just from the wet heat that surrounded him and it wasn't going to take much to push him over the edge. He didn't so much thrust into her as he did just press their bodies together and as she clenched her muscles around him, he came quickly.
Sam slid off to lay beside her. Her hand slid down between her legs, coming back with glistening fingers. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were subconsciously trying to play catch up with your brother…"
Sam looked at her quizzically and slowly realized that they had probably always used condoms…safety and all that. "Um…well…"
She kissed his nose and slid out of bed. "We decided to wait for after the wedding, remember?"
Jess darted into the bathroom and came back with a washcloth, still wiping between her legs. "I mean, your mother can only handle so much excitement at once." Jess grinned and slid back into bed. "We are telling them at dinner tomorrow, right?"
--------
He stood in the shower, wanting it to finally wash him clean. The problem was he wasn't sure whether he wanted to be clean of Jess and the promise of a normal life, or Dean and the fucked up thing they had together.
The bathroom door opened and Dean came in. When he didn't crowd into the shower, Sam peeked out around the curtain. "Dean, you okay?"
"I was planning to ask you the same thing."
Sam sighed and ducked back into the shower, rinsing the soap out of his hair. "Can't this wait until I'm done?"
"Been waiting a long time, Sam."
"Just give me five minutes."
He didn't say anything, no acknowledgement, no push to talk, but he didn't leave either. Sam could feel him standing there, watching, waiting. Finally, when Sam couldn't take the pressure any more, he turned off the water and reached out for a towel, wrapping it around himself before he stepped out next to his brother. They stared at each other for a minute, then Sam pushed past him back out into the room. Light was starting to bleed in around the curtains.
Dean followed, still silent and brooding. "So…?" Sam looked sideways at his brother as he dug through a bag for underwear.
"I'm worried about you." Dean said finally, sitting on the unused bed and not really looking at Sam. "You've hardly said anything since the djinn."
"I told you that I don't want to talk about it." Sam said, pulling a t-shirt on over his head when he couldn't find underwear. He felt ridiculously exposed with just the towel covering him.
"Right. But you don't talk about anything Sam." Dean said, standing and pacing between the bed and the wall. "You don't talk and you barely eat and you talk in your sleep about her, and then…" He stalked across the room to Sam, his hands on the towel. "…then there's this sudden modesty."
Sam stilled, because he couldn't pull away, he wouldn't hurt Dean over his own selfishness, he'd done that enough for one lifetime. "You used to be the one to come after me." Dean said softly. "Now…you hardly even look at me."
Sam closed his eyes. "I look Dean. I just…I need some time."
Dean's forehead was on Sam's shoulder, his hands still on the towel. "I need you, Sam." Dean said softly.
"I know Dean."
--------
Thanksgiving was over far too quickly and with it, Sam and Jess had a flight to catch to get back to Stanford. It was too little, too fast and Sam wanted to stay and wallow in the feeling of family and normal. He set their bags by the front door and ventured into the living room where Dean was on the floor playing checkers with Bobby and their father was on the couch with a beer watching a college football game.
He looked up at Sam, grinning. "Your team lost."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Not surprised. They suck this year." He stood awkwardly in the door for a minute, his eyes darting from Dean to the television to their father. Dean looked up at him, then to their father. "You win Bobby, why don't you see if Grandpa wants to play?"
Dean pushed up off the floor and drew Sam away, gesturing at the bags. "Let me help." Together the set out for the car. "Everything okay?"
"What?" Sam looked at him, a little confused. "Everything is perfect."
"You've just been acting strange. And forgetting stuff. It isn't like you."
Sam nodded and leaned against the car. "I…it's just stress. Studying for the bar, Jess, school." It was so much more than that, but Sam was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe the legends and mythology had been wrong. Maybe this was it, the gift. The wish. His dearest desire made real.
"You push yourself." Dean settled against the car next to Sam, both of them looking to the house. "She's a great girl, you're a lucky man."
Sam nodded, because he knew that. "I am. But then, so are you. I still can't believe you're a father of two with another on the way. It blows me away every time I think about it."
Dean grinned and scratched at the back of the head. "This one is purely a mistake. But, it makes us happy. Just think, it's your turn next."
Sam chuckled. "Mom's already talked to Jess about it. We're not sure we're ready yet."
"You will be." They were quiet a minute, then Dean stood and turned to Sam. "I'm proud of you Sammy. Really proud."
Sam opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. "No, let me say it." Dean held up his hand. "I tease a lot, and I poke fun at you for all the studying and stuff, but you knew what you wanted, from as far back as fifth grade, and you stuck to it, through everything. Now, you're just months away from getting it, and that is…well, I'm proud."
Sam blinked. "I'm not even sure what to say."
Dean rolled his eyes. "So say thank you and give me a manly brother hug so we can end this chick flick moment and I can go back to teasing you about the size of your brain."
Sam opened his arms and let Dean hug him, marveling at the similarities and differences between this Dean and his Dean…although at this point maybe he was coming to think that this Dean was his Dean…that this was who they were meant to be.
--------
Dean's mouth moved along the collar of his shirt and Sam stiffened involuntarily. Dean pulled back. "What?"
"Nothing." Sam forced himself to ease up, to relax, but Dean was already moving away. "Dean." He reached for him, but Dean yanked his arm free.
"That's what I'm talking about Sam."
It wasn't like they hadn't had sex since the whole thing with the djinn. In fact it had only been about twelve hours since Sam had let Dean fuck him into the wall, and the floor. Sam could still feel the ache and burn in his muscles. "Dean, I'm just…tired and sore."
"It's more than that." Dean shook his head and started pulling clothes on. "If you don't want to tell me, fine. We'll just get moving. Bobby's got a line on something in Nevada."
Sam sighed and didn't argue. Like Dean, he started pulling clothes on. He didn't want it to feel so…wrong. He didn't want to ache when Dean touched him. They dressed silently and loaded the car without talking and when Dean brought the engine to life, he turned the radio up too load and spit gravel from under the tires as they pulled out and onto the road.
All the better. Sam stretched his legs out and turned his head toward the window and closed his eyes.
--------
The door opened and their father called Dean's name. Sam and Dean stepped apart and John headed down the walk. "You wife wants you."
Dean jogged for the house and Sam took a deep breath, before moving to lift the suitcases into the trunk of the car. "It's never long enough."
Sam looked up at his father, nodding a little. "We'll be here for Christmas."
"Your mother wanted me to talk to you about after you finish."
Sam had already gotten an earful about that too. As had Jess. She was campaigning hard for them to move back to Lawrence. "I know."
John chuckled and lifted the second suitcase up to hand to Sam. "She's proud of you."
Sam could feel himself blushing. He'd never had so much approval from his family. "I know…but I have to concentrate on finishing, before I can think about the rest."
"I understand that, but your mother? She really misses having you around."
"I miss you guys too." Sam said softly, that familiar ache inside him. He'd never had the chance to know his mother…but here she was alive and passionate and every bit the Mom he'd always craved. He didn't want to leave, wanted to stay here forever taking the time to get to know them. "We'll think about it. Okay?"
John smiled and nodded. "Okay. I think I can get her to settle for that, for now."
Sam had never really given any thought to his parents together, but seeing them this last few days, he could see the love, the affection that underlined everything about them as individuals and as a couple. He saw it in Dean and Liz too, and the way they were around the kids. He wondered if he'd have that with Jess too.
"Here." Sam turned from the house to his father who was holding out his hand, a small wad of cash in his hand.
"Dad—"
"No arguments this time Sam. I know how hard it is to make ends meet. Take it."
Sam took the money, letting his father pull him into a hug, thumping Sam's back enthusiastically. "I love you Son."
Tears sprang to his eyes and Sam had to blink as he pulled away not to let them fall. "I love you too, Dad," he managed after clearing his throat.
The door opened again, sparing them any awkwardness as Bobby charged down the sidewalk, and the rest of the family trickled out after him. Jess brought up the rear, carrying the requisite bag with leftovers from his mother. Somehow Sam knew that she never let them get on the plane without food, and he knew that when he was twelve he had skinned his knee on the driveway running away from Dean, and that his mother's favorite color was blue.
She had tears in her eyes as she moved in to hug him. "I wish you weren't so far away."
Sam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. If he held her close enough, wished hard enough, believed strongly enough, this was real…and the other life…the one where she had died when he was six months old, where their father died to save Dean, where he and Dean clung to each other because there was no one else to cling to…that was the dream…far away from this reality, far enough that he was beginning to forget.
He closed his eyes and held her tight. "I know Mom. Me too."
She kissed his cheek and pulled back just as Jess slipped in to his side, her arm slipping around him. "You ready?"
--------
They were somewhere in Nevada, on a dusty back road with nothing around them for miles and miles but dust and scrub grass and asphalt when Dean pulled the car off the road. Sam looked at him, at the desert, down at his hands.
Dean opened the driver's side door and got out of the car, stalking away into the desert. Sam figured he had to pee and let him go, getting out himself to stretch his legs. They'd been driving for more hours than Sam could consciously count.
At least Dean hadn't forced the issue. Hadn't tried to touch him, or get him to talk. They just drove. They'd stopped once for food, but since then there had been nothing. Hours stretched between them, a cavern filled only by whatever radio station Dean could get to come in, and then when they were out of range, there was just a blinding wall of silence.
Sam paced around the Impala, squinting into the late afternoon glare. It was hot and dry, and Sam's shirt started sticking to his skin. When Dean had been gone longer than a few minutes, Sam started to worry. When a few minutes turned into fifteen, Sam chewed on his lip and reached in the car for a bottle of water. In this heat it would be far too easy to dehydrate and Dean wasn't thinking clearly.
"Dean?" Sam scanned the horizon, moving slowly in the direction his brother had disappeared. "Dean!"
There was no answer. "I don't believe this."
Finally, Sam started out after him, following his footsteps in the loose sand. He wasn't hard to find, standing at the edge of a drop off, his cock in his hand, only he was fisting himself instead of peeing. "Dean?"
He didn't answer, just kept stroking his cock. When Sam touched him, Dean pulled away. "Leave me alone."
"Okay." Sam wasn't sure what to say. "I was worried."
Dean looked at him then, his eyebrow raised.
"You were gone a long time."
"It takes time Sammy, you know?" His hand went back to the same rhythm, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. "Do you mind?"
"Dean…do you want me to…"
"That is the wrong question, Sam." Dean said.
"Fine. I'll wait in the car." He started stalking away, but Dean caught him, pulled him back.
"The right question Sam, is do you want you to?"
Sam met his stare, his green eyes hard and challenging, his one hand wrapped around Sam's wrist, his other wrapped around his cock. Sam swallowed and slid down to one knee, carefully prying his brother's hand off his cock before licking at the tip and around. He dared a look up and Dean was still staring at him, still challenging him to prove himself.
Sam held the base of Dean's cock and tilted his head, closing his lips over the tip and slowly sliding over him until it pressed against his gag reflex. Sam swallowed past it, taking Dean's cock deep before sliding back up. Dean let him work it, standing still as Sam sucked and licked.
His hips twitched when Sam's free hand slipped inside his open jeans to play with his balls, then his hand fisted in Sam's hair and he took over, thrusting into Sam's mouth fast and pulling out even faster. He grunted and pulled away as he came, dumping his come into the sand.
He shoved his cock back into his jeans and stalked back toward the car before Sam could even get off his knees. Clearly he was still upset. Sam shoved up and followed. "What is your problem, Dean?"
Dean had just reached the front end of the car as he turned back to face Sam. "My problem? I don't have a problem."
"What was that?" Sam asked, waving his hand back the way they'd come.
"A blowjob Sam. Used to be you were good at them." He stared at Sam, hands on his hips. "Used to be you liked them."
Sam crossed the distance between them. "I still do." His words were soft, but Dean didn't budge. "Dean, just…give me some time."
"How much time, Sam?" Dean asked, his voice just as soft. "You won't talk about it, you won't tell me…but I know she was there and I know you think that what you had with her was better…you always did."
Sam closed his eyes. "Not better, Dean. Just…normal."
--------
"I think your mother wants us to move to Lawrence after we graduate." Jess said as she finished emptying their suitcases. Sam turned to see her holding up a housing guide and several classifieds sections of the local papers.
Sam chuckled. "She likes having her family close."
"I saw you, you know…with Bobby." Jess slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. "You're good with kids."
"So my mother told me several times this weekend." Sam pressed a kiss to her lips. "Followed by how much she loves being a grandma."
"No pressure." Jess smiled against his cheek, then sighed happily. "I do love your family Sam."
"And they love you." Sam turned her so that her back was to the bed, then slowly pressed her back, lowering her onto the pile of clothes and straddling her. "And so do I." She giggled and pressed her hands to his chest.
"We need to finish."
"Oh, I'll finish…I promise." They fought over buttons and shirts and eventually found themselves naked, rolling over the clothes until she wound up on top, sinking onto him.
There was still a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that this wasn't real, but the more he ignored it, the more real this felt. He was starting to remember pieces of his childhood, his mother's lullaby, his father showing him how to swing a baseball bat…he could remember the first time he said "I love you" to Jessica, buying the ring.
All he had to do was let go and he could have this. Forever.
--------
The ghost went down hard, nearly taking Sam with it before Dean managed to drop the match into the grave. Dean slammed through the motel room, dropping his clothes as he commandeered the bathroom.
Sam kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed. They hadn't spoken since the desert, not really. One word statements and gestures during the hunt didn't count. Dean slammed back out of the bathroom, steam following him. He pulled boxers and a t-shirt out of his bag and threw his bag on the floor.
"You all right?"
Sam looked up at Dean. He was still mostly wet from his shower, but wearing his boxers. Sam nodded, then rubbed at the bruises forming on his neck. "Yeah, I think so."
Dean nodded, then pulled back the blankets on the other bed, sliding in and turning his back to Sam.
Sam stood, pulling off his clothes. He should shower too, but he was tired and his body felt heavy. He got down to boxers and stood beside the bed, staring at Dean's back.
They hadn't slept in separate beds in so long, but clearly, Dean didn't want him there. Sam turned off the lights and crawled into bed, curling up on his side, watching Dean's back.
"You know it wasn’t real." Dean said after a long time in the quiet.
"I know." Sam responded. He did…but it still felt like he'd lost something precious.
"It was just an illusion, so that you wouldn't fight him."
He could hear Dean shift on the sheets, see the shadow of him turning onto his back. "It was…"
"Perfect." Sam said softly. Dean rolled toward him.
"No, Sam, it wasn't."
Sam closed his eyes. He sighed heavily. "You didn't…you don't know Dean."
"So tell me."
--------
There were moments when he could forget completely…when he was so wrapped up in Jessica and their life together that he didn't think about his brother and hunting and the djinn.
Sometimes though, when he was alone in the library, he thought he saw something…vague blue light, a tattooed face….Dean wasting away. He felt something pulling on him, siphoning the life from him.
The djinn.
Sam shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He refocused on his work.
"Dammit boy!" He knew that voice. It was Bobby…but that made no sense. Bobby was only four. Sam looked up, around him…but he was alone. He got a flash of a bearded face in his mind, a baseball hat…he shook his head. He didn't know why, but it scared him.
"Sam!" That was Dean. Only he sounded strange. Sam picked up his phone, thumbed through numbers until he found his brother's. It was nearly midnight. He couldn't call.
"You have to fight it Sam."
He could feel Dean's hand on his. Sam shook his head. "Come back to me."
No. Sam closed the books, shoved his notes into his backpack. No. This was where he belonged. He headed for the front of the library, out the doors and across campus. Jessica was waiting for him. They were going to be married, have a life together.
"Sam!"
He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take another step. It hurt, his whole body squeezed. The night air was cold, and icy fear stabbed through him. Flashes of blue light, and then dark…fingers scrabbling over his skin and then he was falling…yelling for Jessica and falling through ice.
He landed in his body on the floor of some dirty, cold warehouse with Bobby and Dean breathlessly kneeling beside him.
--------
"Mom and Dad?" Dean asked, sitting up to look at Sam.
He nodded miserably, pulling his legs up to his chest. "You…you were married and you had a little boy, and a baby girl…Jess and I were engaged."
It felt like Dean was hovering, though he hadn't moved.
"It was so real, Dean."
"I wasn't, Sam, not really."
He knew that, of course…on some level anyway. "I wanted it to be."
The words hung there in the air between them. Neither of them spoke or moved for a long time. When Dean finally moved, it was to cross the space between them and sit on Sam's bed, his hand rising up to rub at Sam's hand.
Sam lifted his head. "I…wanted to stay there."
"So did I." Dean responded. Sam looked away from the compassion in his brother's eyes.
"I knew it wasn't real, and I wanted to stay anyway."
"Sam—"
"Don't tell me you did too, Dean. You escaped, you chose to leave. I didn't." Sam's face burned with shame. "I wanted it so bad…it was…it was perfect…and we were happy…" He couldn't look at his brother. "If you and Bobby hadn't killed it, I would have stayed."
Dean's hand fell away, finally realizing what his brother was saying. Dean nodded tightly and moved back to the other bed.
Sam hugged his knees. The silence stretched out around them. Sam thought Dean had gone to sleep, then he heard him sigh. "You must hate me."
Sam slipped out of the bed. "I don't hate you."
Dean sat up again, though his eyes didn't lift off the comforter. "I took that away from you, pulled you back into this."
"You saved me." Sam countered, sitting on the bed beside Dean.
"No, Sam…I mean…before. You were happy at Stanford." Dean looked up, his eyes meeting Sam's. "Dad and I…we came through there, a few months before Dad went missing…I saw you with her."
"Oh." Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that.
"I was jealous." Dean pushed the blanket off of him and got up, pacing the room. "I was jealous because you were happy without me…and I was alone…and miserable without you."
Dean stopped near the door. "When I came to get you…I knew you didn't want it, didn't want me…but I thought that if I could just get you away from her, you'd remember how good it could be…and that first time, when you let me touch you…I thought…" He sighed and shook his head. "But I've always just been a substitute for what you really want."
Sam swallowed and looked at his feet, at the floor, the walls…anywhere but at Dean. A car passed the window, light flashing over the walls. He couldn't deny any of it. Dean knew him way too well…but Dean looked so vulnerable there against the door…and as much as Sam had wanted normal, this was what he had, what he knew…and as much as he had loved Jessica, this was Dean…his brother, his best friend, his first lover…and he was all Sam had left in the world.
He stood slowly.
"Sam, don't."
Sam shook his head. "You're more than a substitute, Dean." He took a few steps closer. "Maybe at first, when she was gone…but…" He got close enough to touch him, his hand on his arm, his shoulder. He cupped it to Dean's neck, holding him in place when he might have bolted. "I loved her. I still love her."
Dean's lips thinned, his face was pinched and tight. Sam moved closer, their bodies lined up, his mouth over Dean's. "But I loved you first." Sam kissed him lightly. Dean didn't loosen up, didn't relax or react. Sam let one hand caress over Dean's chest. He kissed over Dean's lower lip, up to the corner of his mouth, his tongue tickling at the corner until Dean sighed and his mouth opened.
Sam tugged him away from the door, turning him and walking him back toward the bed. There was an urgency welling up inside him, a need to make Dean touch him, to make Dean take him. "Please." Sam whispered the word as they reached the bed. "Dean…"
He hooked a finger in his boxers, pushing them down as he fell back onto the bed, reaching for his brother and urging him closer. Dean swallowed, following Sam to the bed, his hand falling to Sam's cock. It hardened in his hand, and Sam gasped, thrusting up into his touch. "Dean…"
His eyes were dark when they finally met Sam's, still unconvinced, but giving in to the sound of need in Sam's voice. Sam pushed at Dean's boxers, feeling relief flood him when Dean's cock emerged hard and red.
It wasn't the soft love making he'd had with Jess….it never had been with Dean…it was hard bodies slamming into one another, sating the need the only way they knew how…it was lips and teeth possessively tasting and marking…and when Dean slammed himself home, into Sam, they both grunted in unison, bodies arching, Dean's teeth sinking into Sam's shoulder, Sam's fingers pressing into Dean's ass. It was bruising and real…heat and hurt in equal measures until they both slammed into their orgasm and fell apart, gasping for air and pulling starchy sheets up over sweating bodies to sleep off the feeling of wrong and right and sin and redemption that always came after.
Title: What is Real and What Will Never Be
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, John, Mary, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Summary: AU of "What is and What Should Never Be", Sam was caught by the djinn when he came to find Dean, and when he finds himself in a world where both of his parents are still alive, he never wants to leave...
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for
wincestaholic who won me on Sweet Charity. Angsty brother sexing and some het. The sun was bright, her hand in his was warm, comfortable. She kissed his cheek. "You nervous?" she asked as they opened the doors and slipped out of the rental car.
He sighed and looked at the house. Nervous didn't begin to cover it. She couldn't know he had no idea what to expect walking into that house. She had no idea that this wasn't real or right…she was alive and beautiful and wearing his ring and Sam was still reeling from waking up in her bed the night before. The plane ride and the idea of walking into the house…that house…he was filled with fear and dread.
Everything was perfect here. Jess was alive and apparently they were newly engaged. He was about to graduate law school. And here he was, about to take her into that house and tell his family the good news.
She couldn't know that his family was all dead, all but Dean who was…well, Sam wasn't sure where he was. He'd gone to find him…and woke up in bed beside Jess.
His hands were sweating as they walked up the sidewalk. The door burst open before they could even knock. "Uncle Sammy!" His legs were surrounded by tiny arms and a four year old with shaggy blond hair jumped against him excitedly.
"Hey, munchkin, let your Uncle Sammy get in the door." Sam froze. That was his father's voice. The door opened more and John Winchester stood there, larger than life, scooping up the wiggling child with a huge smile. He put the boy down inside the house and patted his rump. "Go help your mother."
"Dad." Sam blurted, moving into his open arms for the tightest hug he'd ever gotten. He was still trying to think past his father not being dead when he heard a female voice behind them.
"John, is that Sam and Jess?"
His father stepped aside and for a minute, Sam couldn't breathe. She came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, her blond hair pulled back off her face, her eyes sparkling. "Bobby came tearing through the kitchen screaming that Uncle Sammy and some girl were here." She slipped her arms around Sam and he responded slowly, then pulled her tight to him. "Hey…you okay?"
Sam sniffed back the emotion coursing through him and nodded. "I'm…perfect. Couldn't be better. I just…I missed you."
"You've only been gone a few months," she chided before reaching to embrace Jess. "I guess Bobby is too young to remember that he met you last spring."
Jess grinned and hugged John too. "He's four, and it was only that one day."
"John, why don't you take their things up to Sam's old room? Dean's in the living room." She pointed and Sam nodded. His mother took Jess by the hand and headed for the kitchen. "Liz is in the kitchen helping me put the finishing touches on pies."
Sam was reeling as he stepped into the living room, his eyes skipping over pictures and bookshelves and memorabilia from a life he didn't remember…a life that wasn't his.
"Well, if it isn't the college boy himself." Dean jumped up off the couch, turning off whatever football game he'd been watching. His arms spread wide and his smile was huge as he swept Sam up into a hug.
"Dean."
"Daddy!" The same shaggy headed blond came racing in from the kitchen, springboarding off the end of the sofa and at Dean, who caught him. "Mommy's chasing me!"
Sam watched, dumbfounded as Dean chuckled and turned toward the kitchen where a woman appeared, a towel in her hands. "I'm betting she was trying to wash that face." He turned Bobby to Sam, his grinning face covered in chocolate. "What do you think, Uncle Sammy? Do we save him from the evil washcloth monster?"
Despite how lost he was feeling Sam chuckled as the dark haired woman rolled her eyes and came across the room. "Your mother let him lick the bowl." Dean held Bobby while she washed his face, then let him loose to go tearing through the house. Dean kissed her, his hand cupping to her stomach.
Sam blinked, suddenly realizing she was pregnant. She chuckled when she saw his faced. "Didn't Dean tell you?"
"I---um…" Sam clearly needed to get caught up. He wasn't sure what this was or how it had happened, but he blinked and looked to Dean.
"Yeah, it's fast, I know. We…miscalculated." Dean chuckled. "Speaking of, she should be waking up. I'll check in on her."
"No need, Grandpa's got her." Sam turned to find his father coming down the stairs, an infant against his shoulder. Sam stared, open mouthed.
It was overwhelming. His brother was a father, twice over…with another on the way. His mother and father and Jess were alive. He wanted to pinch himself, but he already had bruises from doing that all morning.
Sam needed time to think, to figure out what had happened. He blinked and cleared his throat. "I, ah, think I left some of our stuff in the car."
"You always did pack like a girl, Sammy." Dean said and Sam had to bite off the involuntary correction to "Sam" as Dean clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Want some help?"
He shook his head. "No, Dean….I've got it. I'll just be a minute."
He let himself out the door and tried not to look like he was running away as he went to the car. Something had gone…well, not wrong. How could this be wrong? It was everything he'd ever wanted. It was everything he'd never known he wanted.
It was normal. It was real homes with real beds. It was a real relationship with his brother, not the fucked up, twisted thing he'd always known…the endless roads, shitty motels and the never-ending parade of demons and ghosts. When Dean looked at him, he was Sam Winchester, his younger brother…not the man he fucked into the wall so they could both forget the pain and fear and burning hurt in their bodies. There was no lust in those green eyes.
Normal.
Sam opened the trunk and fished out the backpack with his laptop and books. He didn't know how this had happened, or even if it was real…but he couldn't bring himself to care. He shouldered the backpack and turned to look at the house.
He was home.
"Sam?"
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly, trying to right himself with the voice, his surroundings. It was still mostly dark, the bed lumpy, empty but for him. His head hurt like he'd pounded back a hell of a lot of alcohol. He could hear Dean, but he didn't see him right away. Not until he sat up, wincing as his sore ass pressed against the mattress and the bed creaked.
Dean was in the shadowed corner of the room, just past the window, arms crossed, watching Sam like he might explode or evaporate or maybe just like he wouldn't ever touch him again.
Sam sighed and hung his head.
It had been a week, and while they were both mostly back to normal physically, the possibilities…the temptation to surrender still haunted each of them. They hadn't talked about it much…and Sam less than Dean for a change.
There was no way he could tell Dean. Not when Sam knew that Dean had made the choices he did. Sam rubbed at his eyes. "What?"
Dean shook his head. "You were talking in your sleep."
Sam sighed again. He stood slowly, imagining he knew what he'd been saying. "Sorry." His hand fell to cover his nakedness, which was silly. For as long as they'd been fucking there wasn't a part of him Dean hadn't seen.
"You still miss her?" Dean's voice was soft, scratchy.
"Jess?" Dean flinched when Sam said her name. "Yeah, I guess. I probably always will, Dean."
Blond hair spilled over her naked back as she pulled her t-shirt up and off and Sam couldn't help but reach for her, his fingers sliding through the curls, soft and light against his skin.
She turned over her shoulder, smiling at him. "You've been awfully quiet."
"Just thinking." Sam replied, both hands lifting as she turned to him now, cascades of hair mostly hiding her breasts. His hands went naturally to her waist, drawing her closer.
"About me?" she asked playfully, ruffling his hair.
"About us." Sam said, leaning in to press kisses between her breasts, breathing over her skin and breathing in the smell of her. He'd forgotten how intoxicating it was, this dizzying love he had with her…an emotion not all tangled up in the mixed up family dynamic he'd always known…the feeling of soft skin under his hands, the taste of her. His tongue darted out to taste and she giggled.
"What about us?"
He looked up at her. "About how well we fit together…how wonderful our lives are going to be…"
She smiled that smile at him, the one that told him he was being a cheesy dork and she loved it. He kissed over her naked breasts, his hands rising up her back to bring her closer. "About how much I want to lay you down on this bed and spread you open and kiss and lick you until you squeal."
Her hands were on his shoulder, pushing him back on the bed while she crawled up over him, landing with a knee on either side of his thighs. "You're the one who never wants to have sex in your parents house…afraid you can't keep quiet enough, that everyone will know…"
Her fingers pulled at the waistband of his boxers, brushing over his cock, which was well on its way to ready for more. She teased it out, her fingers firm as they stroked along his length. "I can keep quiet if you can." Sam whispered, his hands on her hips as he rolled them, landing her on her back on the mattress and hooking her panties with his thumb.
She pretended to struggle a little, but lifted her ass and legs to help him and when his hands slid up her thighs, she spread herself open for him. Sam's cock hurt with need for her, for this…something he hadn't had in so long…he squeezed the base to give himself a few minutes and leaned in, kissing over soft, tender skin, along her thigh, up to the tiny curls of hair that hid her clit. She squirmed as he sent his tongue in search of it, the tip curling just a little to flick over it rapidly a few times before he licked down through her slit in search of other places his tongue used to like exploring.
She was already wet, his tongue and fingers sliding into her with ease. "Sam." She hissed his name in the quiet, her fingers scrambling to his head, threading through his hair, tugging on him as he teased her open. He lifted his head and grinned up at her before diving back down, working two fingers inside of her while he licked and sucked over her clit, faster and faster until her thighs were pressing against his hands and her hips were bucking, shoving her pussy into his face. He sucked in on her clit, teasing it with just a bit of teeth and she pressed a pillow into her face, yelling into the pillow as she came.
Jess was still panting when Sam sank into her, his cock hot and needy. He nearly came just from the wet heat that surrounded him and it wasn't going to take much to push him over the edge. He didn't so much thrust into her as he did just press their bodies together and as she clenched her muscles around him, he came quickly.
Sam slid off to lay beside her. Her hand slid down between her legs, coming back with glistening fingers. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were subconsciously trying to play catch up with your brother…"
Sam looked at her quizzically and slowly realized that they had probably always used condoms…safety and all that. "Um…well…"
She kissed his nose and slid out of bed. "We decided to wait for after the wedding, remember?"
Jess darted into the bathroom and came back with a washcloth, still wiping between her legs. "I mean, your mother can only handle so much excitement at once." Jess grinned and slid back into bed. "We are telling them at dinner tomorrow, right?"
He stood in the shower, wanting it to finally wash him clean. The problem was he wasn't sure whether he wanted to be clean of Jess and the promise of a normal life, or Dean and the fucked up thing they had together.
The bathroom door opened and Dean came in. When he didn't crowd into the shower, Sam peeked out around the curtain. "Dean, you okay?"
"I was planning to ask you the same thing."
Sam sighed and ducked back into the shower, rinsing the soap out of his hair. "Can't this wait until I'm done?"
"Been waiting a long time, Sam."
"Just give me five minutes."
He didn't say anything, no acknowledgement, no push to talk, but he didn't leave either. Sam could feel him standing there, watching, waiting. Finally, when Sam couldn't take the pressure any more, he turned off the water and reached out for a towel, wrapping it around himself before he stepped out next to his brother. They stared at each other for a minute, then Sam pushed past him back out into the room. Light was starting to bleed in around the curtains.
Dean followed, still silent and brooding. "So…?" Sam looked sideways at his brother as he dug through a bag for underwear.
"I'm worried about you." Dean said finally, sitting on the unused bed and not really looking at Sam. "You've hardly said anything since the djinn."
"I told you that I don't want to talk about it." Sam said, pulling a t-shirt on over his head when he couldn't find underwear. He felt ridiculously exposed with just the towel covering him.
"Right. But you don't talk about anything Sam." Dean said, standing and pacing between the bed and the wall. "You don't talk and you barely eat and you talk in your sleep about her, and then…" He stalked across the room to Sam, his hands on the towel. "…then there's this sudden modesty."
Sam stilled, because he couldn't pull away, he wouldn't hurt Dean over his own selfishness, he'd done that enough for one lifetime. "You used to be the one to come after me." Dean said softly. "Now…you hardly even look at me."
Sam closed his eyes. "I look Dean. I just…I need some time."
Dean's forehead was on Sam's shoulder, his hands still on the towel. "I need you, Sam." Dean said softly.
"I know Dean."
Thanksgiving was over far too quickly and with it, Sam and Jess had a flight to catch to get back to Stanford. It was too little, too fast and Sam wanted to stay and wallow in the feeling of family and normal. He set their bags by the front door and ventured into the living room where Dean was on the floor playing checkers with Bobby and their father was on the couch with a beer watching a college football game.
He looked up at Sam, grinning. "Your team lost."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Not surprised. They suck this year." He stood awkwardly in the door for a minute, his eyes darting from Dean to the television to their father. Dean looked up at him, then to their father. "You win Bobby, why don't you see if Grandpa wants to play?"
Dean pushed up off the floor and drew Sam away, gesturing at the bags. "Let me help." Together the set out for the car. "Everything okay?"
"What?" Sam looked at him, a little confused. "Everything is perfect."
"You've just been acting strange. And forgetting stuff. It isn't like you."
Sam nodded and leaned against the car. "I…it's just stress. Studying for the bar, Jess, school." It was so much more than that, but Sam was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe the legends and mythology had been wrong. Maybe this was it, the gift. The wish. His dearest desire made real.
"You push yourself." Dean settled against the car next to Sam, both of them looking to the house. "She's a great girl, you're a lucky man."
Sam nodded, because he knew that. "I am. But then, so are you. I still can't believe you're a father of two with another on the way. It blows me away every time I think about it."
Dean grinned and scratched at the back of the head. "This one is purely a mistake. But, it makes us happy. Just think, it's your turn next."
Sam chuckled. "Mom's already talked to Jess about it. We're not sure we're ready yet."
"You will be." They were quiet a minute, then Dean stood and turned to Sam. "I'm proud of you Sammy. Really proud."
Sam opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. "No, let me say it." Dean held up his hand. "I tease a lot, and I poke fun at you for all the studying and stuff, but you knew what you wanted, from as far back as fifth grade, and you stuck to it, through everything. Now, you're just months away from getting it, and that is…well, I'm proud."
Sam blinked. "I'm not even sure what to say."
Dean rolled his eyes. "So say thank you and give me a manly brother hug so we can end this chick flick moment and I can go back to teasing you about the size of your brain."
Sam opened his arms and let Dean hug him, marveling at the similarities and differences between this Dean and his Dean…although at this point maybe he was coming to think that this Dean was his Dean…that this was who they were meant to be.
Dean's mouth moved along the collar of his shirt and Sam stiffened involuntarily. Dean pulled back. "What?"
"Nothing." Sam forced himself to ease up, to relax, but Dean was already moving away. "Dean." He reached for him, but Dean yanked his arm free.
"That's what I'm talking about Sam."
It wasn't like they hadn't had sex since the whole thing with the djinn. In fact it had only been about twelve hours since Sam had let Dean fuck him into the wall, and the floor. Sam could still feel the ache and burn in his muscles. "Dean, I'm just…tired and sore."
"It's more than that." Dean shook his head and started pulling clothes on. "If you don't want to tell me, fine. We'll just get moving. Bobby's got a line on something in Nevada."
Sam sighed and didn't argue. Like Dean, he started pulling clothes on. He didn't want it to feel so…wrong. He didn't want to ache when Dean touched him. They dressed silently and loaded the car without talking and when Dean brought the engine to life, he turned the radio up too load and spit gravel from under the tires as they pulled out and onto the road.
All the better. Sam stretched his legs out and turned his head toward the window and closed his eyes.
The door opened and their father called Dean's name. Sam and Dean stepped apart and John headed down the walk. "You wife wants you."
Dean jogged for the house and Sam took a deep breath, before moving to lift the suitcases into the trunk of the car. "It's never long enough."
Sam looked up at his father, nodding a little. "We'll be here for Christmas."
"Your mother wanted me to talk to you about after you finish."
Sam had already gotten an earful about that too. As had Jess. She was campaigning hard for them to move back to Lawrence. "I know."
John chuckled and lifted the second suitcase up to hand to Sam. "She's proud of you."
Sam could feel himself blushing. He'd never had so much approval from his family. "I know…but I have to concentrate on finishing, before I can think about the rest."
"I understand that, but your mother? She really misses having you around."
"I miss you guys too." Sam said softly, that familiar ache inside him. He'd never had the chance to know his mother…but here she was alive and passionate and every bit the Mom he'd always craved. He didn't want to leave, wanted to stay here forever taking the time to get to know them. "We'll think about it. Okay?"
John smiled and nodded. "Okay. I think I can get her to settle for that, for now."
Sam had never really given any thought to his parents together, but seeing them this last few days, he could see the love, the affection that underlined everything about them as individuals and as a couple. He saw it in Dean and Liz too, and the way they were around the kids. He wondered if he'd have that with Jess too.
"Here." Sam turned from the house to his father who was holding out his hand, a small wad of cash in his hand.
"Dad—"
"No arguments this time Sam. I know how hard it is to make ends meet. Take it."
Sam took the money, letting his father pull him into a hug, thumping Sam's back enthusiastically. "I love you Son."
Tears sprang to his eyes and Sam had to blink as he pulled away not to let them fall. "I love you too, Dad," he managed after clearing his throat.
The door opened again, sparing them any awkwardness as Bobby charged down the sidewalk, and the rest of the family trickled out after him. Jess brought up the rear, carrying the requisite bag with leftovers from his mother. Somehow Sam knew that she never let them get on the plane without food, and he knew that when he was twelve he had skinned his knee on the driveway running away from Dean, and that his mother's favorite color was blue.
She had tears in her eyes as she moved in to hug him. "I wish you weren't so far away."
Sam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. If he held her close enough, wished hard enough, believed strongly enough, this was real…and the other life…the one where she had died when he was six months old, where their father died to save Dean, where he and Dean clung to each other because there was no one else to cling to…that was the dream…far away from this reality, far enough that he was beginning to forget.
He closed his eyes and held her tight. "I know Mom. Me too."
She kissed his cheek and pulled back just as Jess slipped in to his side, her arm slipping around him. "You ready?"
They were somewhere in Nevada, on a dusty back road with nothing around them for miles and miles but dust and scrub grass and asphalt when Dean pulled the car off the road. Sam looked at him, at the desert, down at his hands.
Dean opened the driver's side door and got out of the car, stalking away into the desert. Sam figured he had to pee and let him go, getting out himself to stretch his legs. They'd been driving for more hours than Sam could consciously count.
At least Dean hadn't forced the issue. Hadn't tried to touch him, or get him to talk. They just drove. They'd stopped once for food, but since then there had been nothing. Hours stretched between them, a cavern filled only by whatever radio station Dean could get to come in, and then when they were out of range, there was just a blinding wall of silence.
Sam paced around the Impala, squinting into the late afternoon glare. It was hot and dry, and Sam's shirt started sticking to his skin. When Dean had been gone longer than a few minutes, Sam started to worry. When a few minutes turned into fifteen, Sam chewed on his lip and reached in the car for a bottle of water. In this heat it would be far too easy to dehydrate and Dean wasn't thinking clearly.
"Dean?" Sam scanned the horizon, moving slowly in the direction his brother had disappeared. "Dean!"
There was no answer. "I don't believe this."
Finally, Sam started out after him, following his footsteps in the loose sand. He wasn't hard to find, standing at the edge of a drop off, his cock in his hand, only he was fisting himself instead of peeing. "Dean?"
He didn't answer, just kept stroking his cock. When Sam touched him, Dean pulled away. "Leave me alone."
"Okay." Sam wasn't sure what to say. "I was worried."
Dean looked at him then, his eyebrow raised.
"You were gone a long time."
"It takes time Sammy, you know?" His hand went back to the same rhythm, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. "Do you mind?"
"Dean…do you want me to…"
"That is the wrong question, Sam." Dean said.
"Fine. I'll wait in the car." He started stalking away, but Dean caught him, pulled him back.
"The right question Sam, is do you want you to?"
Sam met his stare, his green eyes hard and challenging, his one hand wrapped around Sam's wrist, his other wrapped around his cock. Sam swallowed and slid down to one knee, carefully prying his brother's hand off his cock before licking at the tip and around. He dared a look up and Dean was still staring at him, still challenging him to prove himself.
Sam held the base of Dean's cock and tilted his head, closing his lips over the tip and slowly sliding over him until it pressed against his gag reflex. Sam swallowed past it, taking Dean's cock deep before sliding back up. Dean let him work it, standing still as Sam sucked and licked.
His hips twitched when Sam's free hand slipped inside his open jeans to play with his balls, then his hand fisted in Sam's hair and he took over, thrusting into Sam's mouth fast and pulling out even faster. He grunted and pulled away as he came, dumping his come into the sand.
He shoved his cock back into his jeans and stalked back toward the car before Sam could even get off his knees. Clearly he was still upset. Sam shoved up and followed. "What is your problem, Dean?"
Dean had just reached the front end of the car as he turned back to face Sam. "My problem? I don't have a problem."
"What was that?" Sam asked, waving his hand back the way they'd come.
"A blowjob Sam. Used to be you were good at them." He stared at Sam, hands on his hips. "Used to be you liked them."
Sam crossed the distance between them. "I still do." His words were soft, but Dean didn't budge. "Dean, just…give me some time."
"How much time, Sam?" Dean asked, his voice just as soft. "You won't talk about it, you won't tell me…but I know she was there and I know you think that what you had with her was better…you always did."
Sam closed his eyes. "Not better, Dean. Just…normal."
"I think your mother wants us to move to Lawrence after we graduate." Jess said as she finished emptying their suitcases. Sam turned to see her holding up a housing guide and several classifieds sections of the local papers.
Sam chuckled. "She likes having her family close."
"I saw you, you know…with Bobby." Jess slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. "You're good with kids."
"So my mother told me several times this weekend." Sam pressed a kiss to her lips. "Followed by how much she loves being a grandma."
"No pressure." Jess smiled against his cheek, then sighed happily. "I do love your family Sam."
"And they love you." Sam turned her so that her back was to the bed, then slowly pressed her back, lowering her onto the pile of clothes and straddling her. "And so do I." She giggled and pressed her hands to his chest.
"We need to finish."
"Oh, I'll finish…I promise." They fought over buttons and shirts and eventually found themselves naked, rolling over the clothes until she wound up on top, sinking onto him.
There was still a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that this wasn't real, but the more he ignored it, the more real this felt. He was starting to remember pieces of his childhood, his mother's lullaby, his father showing him how to swing a baseball bat…he could remember the first time he said "I love you" to Jessica, buying the ring.
All he had to do was let go and he could have this. Forever.
The ghost went down hard, nearly taking Sam with it before Dean managed to drop the match into the grave. Dean slammed through the motel room, dropping his clothes as he commandeered the bathroom.
Sam kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed. They hadn't spoken since the desert, not really. One word statements and gestures during the hunt didn't count. Dean slammed back out of the bathroom, steam following him. He pulled boxers and a t-shirt out of his bag and threw his bag on the floor.
"You all right?"
Sam looked up at Dean. He was still mostly wet from his shower, but wearing his boxers. Sam nodded, then rubbed at the bruises forming on his neck. "Yeah, I think so."
Dean nodded, then pulled back the blankets on the other bed, sliding in and turning his back to Sam.
Sam stood, pulling off his clothes. He should shower too, but he was tired and his body felt heavy. He got down to boxers and stood beside the bed, staring at Dean's back.
They hadn't slept in separate beds in so long, but clearly, Dean didn't want him there. Sam turned off the lights and crawled into bed, curling up on his side, watching Dean's back.
"You know it wasn’t real." Dean said after a long time in the quiet.
"I know." Sam responded. He did…but it still felt like he'd lost something precious.
"It was just an illusion, so that you wouldn't fight him."
He could hear Dean shift on the sheets, see the shadow of him turning onto his back. "It was…"
"Perfect." Sam said softly. Dean rolled toward him.
"No, Sam, it wasn't."
Sam closed his eyes. He sighed heavily. "You didn't…you don't know Dean."
"So tell me."
There were moments when he could forget completely…when he was so wrapped up in Jessica and their life together that he didn't think about his brother and hunting and the djinn.
Sometimes though, when he was alone in the library, he thought he saw something…vague blue light, a tattooed face….Dean wasting away. He felt something pulling on him, siphoning the life from him.
The djinn.
Sam shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He refocused on his work.
"Dammit boy!" He knew that voice. It was Bobby…but that made no sense. Bobby was only four. Sam looked up, around him…but he was alone. He got a flash of a bearded face in his mind, a baseball hat…he shook his head. He didn't know why, but it scared him.
"Sam!" That was Dean. Only he sounded strange. Sam picked up his phone, thumbed through numbers until he found his brother's. It was nearly midnight. He couldn't call.
"You have to fight it Sam."
He could feel Dean's hand on his. Sam shook his head. "Come back to me."
No. Sam closed the books, shoved his notes into his backpack. No. This was where he belonged. He headed for the front of the library, out the doors and across campus. Jessica was waiting for him. They were going to be married, have a life together.
"Sam!"
He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take another step. It hurt, his whole body squeezed. The night air was cold, and icy fear stabbed through him. Flashes of blue light, and then dark…fingers scrabbling over his skin and then he was falling…yelling for Jessica and falling through ice.
He landed in his body on the floor of some dirty, cold warehouse with Bobby and Dean breathlessly kneeling beside him.
"Mom and Dad?" Dean asked, sitting up to look at Sam.
He nodded miserably, pulling his legs up to his chest. "You…you were married and you had a little boy, and a baby girl…Jess and I were engaged."
It felt like Dean was hovering, though he hadn't moved.
"It was so real, Dean."
"I wasn't, Sam, not really."
He knew that, of course…on some level anyway. "I wanted it to be."
The words hung there in the air between them. Neither of them spoke or moved for a long time. When Dean finally moved, it was to cross the space between them and sit on Sam's bed, his hand rising up to rub at Sam's hand.
Sam lifted his head. "I…wanted to stay there."
"So did I." Dean responded. Sam looked away from the compassion in his brother's eyes.
"I knew it wasn't real, and I wanted to stay anyway."
"Sam—"
"Don't tell me you did too, Dean. You escaped, you chose to leave. I didn't." Sam's face burned with shame. "I wanted it so bad…it was…it was perfect…and we were happy…" He couldn't look at his brother. "If you and Bobby hadn't killed it, I would have stayed."
Dean's hand fell away, finally realizing what his brother was saying. Dean nodded tightly and moved back to the other bed.
Sam hugged his knees. The silence stretched out around them. Sam thought Dean had gone to sleep, then he heard him sigh. "You must hate me."
Sam slipped out of the bed. "I don't hate you."
Dean sat up again, though his eyes didn't lift off the comforter. "I took that away from you, pulled you back into this."
"You saved me." Sam countered, sitting on the bed beside Dean.
"No, Sam…I mean…before. You were happy at Stanford." Dean looked up, his eyes meeting Sam's. "Dad and I…we came through there, a few months before Dad went missing…I saw you with her."
"Oh." Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that.
"I was jealous." Dean pushed the blanket off of him and got up, pacing the room. "I was jealous because you were happy without me…and I was alone…and miserable without you."
Dean stopped near the door. "When I came to get you…I knew you didn't want it, didn't want me…but I thought that if I could just get you away from her, you'd remember how good it could be…and that first time, when you let me touch you…I thought…" He sighed and shook his head. "But I've always just been a substitute for what you really want."
Sam swallowed and looked at his feet, at the floor, the walls…anywhere but at Dean. A car passed the window, light flashing over the walls. He couldn't deny any of it. Dean knew him way too well…but Dean looked so vulnerable there against the door…and as much as Sam had wanted normal, this was what he had, what he knew…and as much as he had loved Jessica, this was Dean…his brother, his best friend, his first lover…and he was all Sam had left in the world.
He stood slowly.
"Sam, don't."
Sam shook his head. "You're more than a substitute, Dean." He took a few steps closer. "Maybe at first, when she was gone…but…" He got close enough to touch him, his hand on his arm, his shoulder. He cupped it to Dean's neck, holding him in place when he might have bolted. "I loved her. I still love her."
Dean's lips thinned, his face was pinched and tight. Sam moved closer, their bodies lined up, his mouth over Dean's. "But I loved you first." Sam kissed him lightly. Dean didn't loosen up, didn't relax or react. Sam let one hand caress over Dean's chest. He kissed over Dean's lower lip, up to the corner of his mouth, his tongue tickling at the corner until Dean sighed and his mouth opened.
Sam tugged him away from the door, turning him and walking him back toward the bed. There was an urgency welling up inside him, a need to make Dean touch him, to make Dean take him. "Please." Sam whispered the word as they reached the bed. "Dean…"
He hooked a finger in his boxers, pushing them down as he fell back onto the bed, reaching for his brother and urging him closer. Dean swallowed, following Sam to the bed, his hand falling to Sam's cock. It hardened in his hand, and Sam gasped, thrusting up into his touch. "Dean…"
His eyes were dark when they finally met Sam's, still unconvinced, but giving in to the sound of need in Sam's voice. Sam pushed at Dean's boxers, feeling relief flood him when Dean's cock emerged hard and red.
It wasn't the soft love making he'd had with Jess….it never had been with Dean…it was hard bodies slamming into one another, sating the need the only way they knew how…it was lips and teeth possessively tasting and marking…and when Dean slammed himself home, into Sam, they both grunted in unison, bodies arching, Dean's teeth sinking into Sam's shoulder, Sam's fingers pressing into Dean's ass. It was bruising and real…heat and hurt in equal measures until they both slammed into their orgasm and fell apart, gasping for air and pulling starchy sheets up over sweating bodies to sleep off the feeling of wrong and right and sin and redemption that always came after.
