#spnwincest
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Liar Liar
Sam and Dean Bingo Square filled: Monster/Creature AU
For @deanandsambingo
Ship: Established Sam/Dean Winchester
Rating: PG 13 for swearing
Word Count: 600
Summary: Dean gets bitten during a werewolf hunt, Sam's not willing to pull the trigger so fast.
Title: Liar Liar
Sam looked at his cell phone as Bobby’s name popped up on the screen for the eighth time in the last two hours. He glanced up and saw Dean still inside the gas station mini-mart paying for gas, and snacks, then back at the phone.
It vibrated twice, and another voicemail notification popped up on the screen. He was tempted to throw it out the car window, but his fingers wouldn’t let go.
“Eat,” Dean tossed a mini bag of donuts onto the seat between them as he got behind the wheel of the Impala.
Last night Dean had been bleeding out on the backseat, now he looked like he was ready for a leisurely stroll through some garden. Not a hint of a mark on him, except for the faint bite marks that Sam could see peeking out from under his shirt collar.
“Bobby called again,” Sam picked up the bag and opened it.
He ate two and handed the bag back to Dean.
“We can’t tell him,” Dean shoved a donut into his mouth, white powdered sugar dusting his lap. The impala’s engine sputtered a few times, before coming to life and Dean pulled out of the lot. “We’ll just, find some nice quiet spot, pull over, and-”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Sam looked at Dean.
“Sam-”
“No. I’m not going to put a fucking bullet in you Dean.”
“Then don’t, I’ll do it myself,” Dean said.
“Like hell you will,” Sam replied.
“Sam, Sam, what the fuck are you doing?” Dean nearly slammed on the brakes as Sam took off his seatbelt.
A car swerved to avoid hitting them, their car horn echoed in their wake. Sam used the opportunity and jumped from the car.
“Sam! Damn it Sam,” Dean called after him.
Sam kept walking.
“God damn it Sam!” Dean caught up to him and grabbed his arm.
“I’m not going to kill you Dean!” Sam looked at his brother.
“Well it’s not like I can run around, out of my freaking mind one night a month,” Dean countered. “You know as well as I do, it’s the only way.”
“Really? Cause you didn’t have that mindset when we thought I got infected with the Croatoan virus,” Sam reminded him. “Or when the angels wanted to kill me because I was Lucifer’s vessel. So what makes this time different huh? Give me one good reason why this is different and I’ll load the bullets into the gun myself. Maybe you won’t even turn into a werewolf. We’ve got a month until the next full moon Dean. A month…we can do a lot in a month Dean. Maybe there’s stuff in Dad’s journal that we don’t know, or experts or something, but there’s got to be steps before eatting a fucking bullet Dean.”
Dean opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay,” Dean nodded.
He stepped closer to Sam when he was sure Sam wasn’t going to bolt again and brushed some of Sam’s hair back from his face.
“We’ll do it your way Sammy.”
Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s jacket and with a tug pulled Dean in closer until he could rest his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and he could feel Dean’s solid weight against him.
“But you have to have to swear to me,” Dean continued. “Swear that it…if we can’t find anything, and I got rogue…”
Sam nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I swear Dean. I’ll do it.”
Dean didn’t say anything, just carded his fingers through Sam’s hair.
They both knew it was a lie.
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across state lines
Cis girl!Sam/Dean, Early Seasons, E, 13k words
Tags: Dean POV, First Time, Possessive Dean (but not too overtly), Oblivious Dean, Denial, Accidental Voyeurism, Dean discovers he might have a marking kink, past Sam/Jess, Sam/OMC (briefly)
As Sam leaned in a second time, slowly, eyes wide and terrified, Dean wondered if this was just the inevitable culmination of two decades of blatant, unrestrained boundary-crossing; a steady descent into whatever hell they seem to have dug for themselves, together.
Cis girl!Sam, set during s1 and 2.
#spnwincest#wincest fic#samdean fic#:))#female sam winchester#s.docx#whatever it is#underground wires
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don’t mind me, i’m just watching supernatural again from the beginning and thinking about how whenever sam gets wounded or shows the slightest bit of discomfort, dean is immediately making sure that he’s ok. just. immediately going “sammy?!” in that worried tone of voice and cupping his face in the gentlest way possible. also, he punched sam in the episode where they met gordon and then he asked sam to punch him back when he realized sam was right about the case which was very considerate of him. what a sweetie.
#spnwincest#maybe#but definitely wincest me thinks#sam and dean winchester in love#sam and dean winchester being soulmates#trying not to add spn specific tags so the fandom won’t murder me#btw i definitely forgot about how much i hated the original meg masters#ok that’s all#for now ;)#oh wait#wincest#ok yeah now i’m done
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I like to think that Dean was maybe a little shocked and definitely a whole lot curious the first time Sam “admitted” to liking a girl because his ‘I think I like a girl.’ had sounded more like ‘I think? I like a girl?’ and yeah, maybe his heart broke because he had loved his little brother for years but... whatever.
But after the shock, and the curiosity and the heartbreak came a whole lot of confusion because all his life, Sam had never crushed on anybody, so why start now in his late teens?
But Dean was a good big brother so shoved all thoughts to the back of his mind and focused on helping his brother take this mystery girl out on a date and kiss her.
Much later, when he’s sitting on the couch in the motel and drinking a beer, Sam comes back looking like he spent the last three hours sucking on a lemon, which is... odd, to say the least.
“How was it?” He asks, watching Sam kicks his shoes off and toss his jacket aside which is even more odd because his brother is always bitching how he never puts his stuff away in the right place.
“Horrible,” Sam’s muttering and walking straight towards him, straddling Dean’s lap and placing a hand on Dean’s check, “she wasn’t you.” And then Sam’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to Dean’s and he’s frozen in suprise for a few seconds but then he’s kissing back, placing his hands on his baby brother’s slim hips.
The kiss is desperate and sloppy since Sam in clearly inexperienced, always more focused on schoolwork rather than boys or girls, but he’s very enthusiastic and Dean would pick his adorable baby brother over an experienced stranger any day.
When they pull apart, Sam’s kiss-swollen lips curl up into a beautifully breathtaking smile and he mutters ‘Much better.’ and Dean can only groan and pull Sam into another kiss, pulling him closer and wrapping an arm around his waist.
They don’t get to talking too much after that.
(Later, much much later, when he’s picking up Sam from school and he sees Sam talking to a girl and smiling apologetically at her, and he sees her light hair and green eyes and the very faint freckles on her cheeks, he can only Oh, it makes sense now.)
Tags:
@velvet-impala
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“It’s not like he’s never touched Dean before, but this is different. This time he touches with intent, brushing his thumbs over Dean’s nipples so that Dean arches up, gasping.” Keep reading in AO3
Collaboration for the SMPC with amypond45
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↳ how to look at your brother
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did you see the light in my heart? did you see the sweat on my brow?
#spnedit#spnwincest#kind of?#dry the river is a good band#my fucking edits#the love that saved the world#but also#Братья
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Sounds like wedding vow to me
#Supernatural#spn gif#spnwincest#wincest#dean wichester#sam winchester#wedding vows#Winchesters#there ain't no me if there ain't no you
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Numb
Wincest Writing Challenge: October
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Partner: storyspinner70
Prompt: Names of Yesterday
Word Count: 1270
Rating: R
Summary: Soulless Sam ponders the future...and the past.
Sam sighed and closed his laptop, plunging the dingy motel into semi-darkness. A streetlight outside the room filtered through the thin curtains stretched across the window.
He stood and stretched, arms above his head, stiff from combing the internet for a case the past three hours. Maybe he should go for a run, get rid of the tension that always seemed to be there, right beneath his skin, an itch that could be scratched momentarily with exercise or a hunt or with sex. He couldn’t find a hunt and his body was sore from the paces he had put it though this morning.
The digital numbers on the bedside table glowed red. It’s was half past two in the morning in a crap little town in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa and he was restless, dammit.
A woman might do the trick but his prospects seemed slim to none in finding a willing woman this time of night and he preferred privacy when he was fucking and privacy was at a premium right now
Sam looked at his older brother, snoring softly in one of the double beds and wondered why he had decided to hunt with him again.
He had done just fine by himself for a year. He’d had Samuel and the rest of the clan for back-up when he needed or wanted it and that had been enough
Or so he thought.
One of the first things he had done when he had woke up in that field, after shouting himself hoarse, trying to get that goddamn angel to talk to him, was to head to Lisa’s. To Dean.
Maybe it was just out of habit. His whole life,Dean had been there, had his back, protected him. Loved him.
But he had stood on the sidewalk in front of a pretty little suburban house and watched Dean with his new family and he had felt.....nothing.
Looking at his brother now, relaxed in sleep, he found that he wanted to touch him. Well, he wanted to do more than touch.
He wanted to take. And, maybe, be taken in return.
Just to see if there was really nothing of his previous self left inside.
The thing was he could remember what is was like be loved by Dean. Not just as his little brother, but wholly, completely like he was Dean’s world.
And Dean had been his.
When he had been growing up, he had looked up to Dean with something akin to hero worship. His big brother had been larger than life, tough as nails and Sam had tried to emulate him in every way.
Dean had also been safety and home and love.
Then Sam had hit puberty and had looked at his big brother in an all together different way.
He had noticed the play of muscles on Dean’s back as he washed the impala. The way his ass flexed and moved in his tight underwear as he walked across every room they shared. The pink plush lips that Sam wanted to kiss and lick and bite. The dusting of freckles that seemed to be well.....everywhere.
And those emerald green eyes, framed by long lashes that would make any girl jealous. Sam was aware of the way they stared at him with the same longing that Sam had discovered within himself.
They had become lovers and the two of them had been enough for the other,
Sam had needed no one else. Even Dean, who still flirted and attempted to charm every woman he came into contact with, did nothing in the end.
He was Sam’s as surely as Sam was his.
And then Heaven and Hell had conspired to separate them, to turn one brother against the other. But they had always found their way back to each other.
This time was different.
Both Sam and Dean had known something was different from that first hug at the Campbell compound after Sam had saved his brother from the djinn poisoning.
And now, they had found he was soulless. Sam wondered if he would really ever get his soul back.
He had been okay when he had had been doing nothing but hunting. To not feel guilt, remorse, fear had made him an even more formidable hunter.
None of it had mattered. Until now.
He enjoyed the physicality of his existence. Hunting and fucking were the things that had kept him going after returning from the cage.
But now, if he was being honest, neither gave him much satisfaction.
He remembered how things had been between him and Dean and for the first time in over a year, he wanted to feel.
Memories came with a ghost of the emotions he had experienced as his former self. There was pain and guilt and self-loathing.
But there had also been love so intense that everything else paled in comparison. There had been elation and wonder. There had been hope.
There had been passion between them that never seemed to be sated. He remembered what it had felt like to be riding his brother, feeling so full, grinding himself down, hard, then harder and faster, chasing a release so intense he would scream his brother’s name when he came.
He also remembered rocking into Dean, taking it slow, seeing Dean writhe underneath him, burying himself in his brother’s heat, drawing it out for the both of them. Dean would finally wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, urging Sam deeper, burying his face in Sam’s shoulder to muffle his sounds of pleasure.
Then there had been the times when they would lie facing each other just kissing for what seemed like hours. Simply enjoying the feel and the taste of each other.
Sam found that he missed that feeling of contentment that he had found in his brother’s arms.
Even now, he could remember that feeling. He wanted it.
And he knew Dean wanted him still, even as he was, because he was still his little brother. He was still Sam.
He stripped down to his briefs then laid down beneath covers, wrapping his arms around his brother.
Dean’s eyes flew open, then focused on the familiar face in front of him.
“Sam, what are you doing?” Dean’s tone was wary and gruff with sleep.
“I’m hugging you, Dean.”
“Okay.” Dean cleared his throat. “Why?”
Sam rolled his eyes.”Why do you think?” He laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, snuggling closer. “You could hug me back.”
“Sam-”
“Dean, I think I need this. If we can’t get my soul back-” Dean tried to protest but Sam continued, “If we can’t, I’m going to need your help. I’m going to need you.”
“I remember what what we were like together, what that felt like.” He paused when he felt Dean’s arms envelop him. “I want to feel something again, Dean.”
“Well, that ‘s definitely a step in the right direction.” Dean took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “It’s just a little unexpected, Sammy.”
Sam raised his head so he could look at Dean. “Well, I don’t sleep so I have a lot of time to think.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, that’s still a little creepy.”
Giving Dean time to pull away, Sam brought his lips to Dean’s. It was a chaste kiss and they both wanted more. They could see the truth of it in each others eyes.
They lay with their arms around the other and finally Dean drifted off to sleep.
For the first time, in well over a year, Sam could feel a tendril of something........
It felt like home.
#wincestwritingchallenge#storyspinner70#wincest#spnwincest#i am unhappy with this#oh well#sorry it's so late!#and sorry for any mistakes#my writing
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Just started rewatching Supernatural and in the mood to write some early season boys. Any requests?
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Fic
#spnwincest#wincest#genre: preslash#rating: pg13#author: jedisapphire#genre: hurtcomfort#genre: bigbang13#affliction: physical#genre: season8#length: 12to30k
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Deft hands remove the tacky yellow polo, revealing flawless tanned skin slick with sweat, a moan of “Dean” falling from parted pink lips, kiss swollen.
Dean wakes up with a hiss, sitting up in the motel room bed. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his chest is heaving from the dream he was having. Nightmare, he tries to correct, but knows that’s not true. He looks down and sees the thin blanket is slightly tented and he growls in frustration, looking over at the clock and pointedly not past it towards Sam.
4:27 AM the digital clock on the nightstand tells him and he resigns himself to another sleepless night. He gets up and heads for the shower just knowing it’s going to be a long day.
The cold water doesn’t help his erection all that much with those visions swimming around in his head, both turning him on and turning his stomach at the same time. He remembers how it felt, Sam under him. He remembers the breathy way his brother -- no, not his brother, a different Sam, though deep down he knows it was still his Sam -- would moan his name.
They woke up like Sandover never happened and, well, to Sam it never did. Sam didn’t have the honor of meeting Zachariah. Sam isn’t tainted with the memories of Dean pushing him down face first onto Dean Smith’s desk and fucking him raw. Though Sam felt it, Dean knows. He saw the way Sam hissed in pain when he first sat up upon waking, the weird limp he walked with, and the careful way he’d lower himself into the passenger seat of the Impala. And he hated himself for not being able to apologize when Sam said, “I think I pulled something, because I- it just hurts.”
Four days later and he still hates himself.
Four days later and he’s still having wet dreams -- memories -- of their coupling, like a teenage boy crushing on his hot teacher. He’s harbored these feelings for Sam for so long and all it took was one meddling winged dickhead and all of it comes crashing down.
He wishes Zachariah took his memories because then he wouldn’t have to remember that getting what he’s wanted all along was just a one time deal. The angels are doing more harm than good and Dean wants them gone.
Every time he closes his eyes he sees Sammy pushing his ass back, begging Dean for more. Sees the way Sam’s big, skinny hands grip the opposite side of the desk as Dean pounds into him from behind, hands that aren’t littered with callouses from gun wielding gripping Sam’s lithe hips and bruising him, leaving his mark for days.
Dean almost came in his pants when he saw the bruises on Sam the next morning as Sam got dressed. Luckily for Dean, the motel didn’t have big enough mirrors for Sam to look at his hips after showering or he’d have questions Dean can never answer.
“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Dean Smith asks, lips centimetres away from Sam Wesson’s. He can feel his breath fanning over his lips as he pants. Sam’s backed against Dean’s desk, partially sitting but still fully clothed, and Dean presses a knee against Sam’s erection. The kid from tech support hisses, his chest arching as he tries to gain friction, but Dean holds still, just keeping pressure. “Are you going to be my good boy, Sam?”
“--ean!”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Smith, please just--”
Trailing a finger over Sam’s flushed cheek, he says, “What did I tell you, Sam? Call me--”
“DEAN!”
Dean startles out of his reverie and looks over at Sam, shocked that he’s remembering in the middle of the day. He blinks at Sam then asks, “What?”
“Dude, I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes. Are you okay?”
Am I okay, he thinks, wishing he could just snap, No because I’m imagining holding you down and fucking you like I did in the alternate world you don’t remember.
“I’m fine, man, just tired. What’d you find?”
Sam seems to visibly relax at the mention of the case they’re working. “So get this...”
~ ! ~
Dean wakes with a start but not with an erection or from a dream. He’s not panting or sweating. What the hell woke him up?
“Please...”
His head turns so fast his neck protests but Sam sounds like he’s in pain and big brother instincts always kick in when Sam’s in pain. “Sammy?” he asks softly.
“Dean... please...”
Dean stops moving to get off the bed, one foot on the floor; he’s frozen, eyes locked on Sam’s sleeping form. Sam’s sweating, his hair matted to his forehead, and his chest is rising and falling at a more rapid pace, panting. His thin fingers grip the blanket pulled up to his chest.
And he just moaned Dean’s name.
“Sam?” he cautions, moving slow. His left foot comes off the bed to meet his right and he stands. The closer to Sam he gets the better he can see him. He’s got his lower lip trapped between his teeth and his whole body seems to be wracked by tremors, but it’s only when he’s standing right above him that he sees it, sees what’s got Sam moaning.
Sam’s hard, and there’s a wet patch growing on the blanket right above the tent and Dean has to take a deep breath to calm himself before he does something stupid. Sam’s a guy, and they’ve been sharing a room for years, it’s not like he’s never seen Sammy have a wet dream before. He just- Sam’s never called out Dean’s name before.
“Oh god, Dean- Dean- I need you, please--”
“Dean, I need you- please!”
“Fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his short hair and messing it up more than the pillow did. “You’re killing me here, kiddo.” If he wasn’t having memory flashes of Sam Wesson writhing under him and saying the exact words his baby brother is moaning in his sleep right now, it wouldn’t be as bad. But god, Dean is yearning.
There’s an unspoken bro code: don’t wake a guy up from a wet dream; it’s just fucking weird. But he can’t listen to Sam moan like this anymore or he’ll do something they will both regret.
He shakes Sam’s shoulder, relishes in the heat radiating off of him, and Sam startles awake with a yelp. His eyes are frantic as he searches for the enemy before landing on Dean, lust blown and wide. Dean licks his lips and lets go of his shoulder, “Hey, hey, you’re okay, Sammy,” he soothes, backing up to sit on the edge of his own bed. “You’re safe. You were just, uh- dreaming.”
Sam still looks panicked, eyes wide and almost scared. He says, voice cracking, “I- we were- oh god. Dean.”
Dean knows exactly what Sam is sputtering about but he plays dumb, asks, “What were you dreaming about?” despite his better judgement.
Sam seems to deflate at that, shoulders sagging as he whispers, “You’d never wanna look at me again.” He fiddles with the blanket. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he says and proceeds to get off the bed on the other side, presumably to hide his obvious erection.
It isn’t until he hears the water running that he lies back down. If Sam’s getting his memories of Sandover back in his dreams, Dean is screwed.
~ ! ~
A new development is Sam’s cheeks pinking when Dean gets too close. He teases Sam because that’s what he’s supposed to do as a big brother, but now it seems to be affecting Sam in a completely different way. He’s been woken up from a dead sleep three times now with Sam’s moaning, and every morning he’s rock hard as he watches his little brother come in his sleep pants.
He particularly loves when Sam’s chest arches almost completely off the bed, hair fanned out over the pillow, as he comes with Dean’s name on his tongue. He feigns sleep while Sam gets up to shower at the ass crack of dawn, and Dean rubs one out to Sam’s moans playing over and over in his head.
If this keeps up, he’s not going to be able to hold off any longer.
~ ! ~
“I, uh--” Sam’s got that gorgeous blush on his cheeks again. “I think I’m gonna get a separate room tonight, Dean. I- I’m not feeling well and I don’t think you need to hear me getting sick all night...”
If by getting sick he means moaning Dean’s name all night Sam couldn’t be more wrong.
“Sammy, when have we ever got separate rooms? Even when you had the flu I didn’t leave you. C’mon.” He tugs on Sam’s jacket sleeve and pulls his little brother against his side to make sure he can’t get away. “Just let big brother take care of you. I always know what to do with you, don’t I?”
If possible, Sam’s blush turns a deeper scarlet and Dean smirks when his head is turned away. Oh yeah, he’s still got it.
His dreams stopped right around the time Sam’s started, like a transference, but Dean’s not complaining. He’s enjoying the view of Sammy coming every night to the thought of Dean fucking him on an office desk. If it gets any worse, Sam might seek out real Dean’s attention, and Dean is -- not so patiently -- waiting. He’s not gonna let Sammy go on like this for too much longer. Dean’s dick can’t handle how frequently he’s jerking off.
~ ! ~
This time he’s not awoken by Sammy’s sweet little moans. He’s awoken by the bed dipping behind him and he self-consciously reaches for the knife he’s got under his pillow, until he smells Sam’s sweat and girly shampoo. He relaxes back into the mattress and waits.
“Dean,” Sam whispers, sounding lost.
Not moving, ever the blase big brother, he asks, “Yeah, Sammy?”
“I keep- I keep having these dreams and they- Dean, they feel so real- I don’t know what to think anymore.” He sounds so lost, so broken that Dean rolls half onto his back and looks up at his little brother. “I know this is going to sound gross because we’re brothers and I’m sorry but I- I can’t hold it in anymore, Dean.” He takes a deep breath, like he’s psyching himself up to talk about what Dean already knows about. “I’m having dreams about you. And me. And--”
Without thinking, Dean reaches a hand up and cups Sam’s very warm cheek, startling his baby brother. “I know, kiddo,” he soothes. “I know. I’ve had them, too.”
“You- what?”
“I’m gonna sound like I’m crazy but hear me out, Sam.” He sits up completely so they’re face to face, hand never leaving Sam’s pinkwarm cheek. “They aren’t dreams. They’re memories.”
Sam stares at him blankly a moment then laughs awkwardly, says, “Yeah sure, Dean,” and moves to get up from the bed, but Dean’s hand on his cheek moves to grip the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him in so they’re nose to nose. “Dean--”
“Remember the morning you woke up sore? When you couldn’t sit right for a few days?”
“Yeah, I- no, no way.”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies, the pet name just rolling off his tongue like he’s said it his whole life. “Yeah.”
“Oh god.”
Dean keeps him grounded by squeezing the back of his neck. “But listen, Sammy, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want you to, either. I think it’s something we could have.” He smiles softly, making sure Sam’s eyes are on his as he starts to lean in. “If it’s something you want, that is.” Sam meets him halfway and they share their first real kiss.
Sam doesn’t go back to his own bed that night.
#wincest#swesson#bottom sam#top dean#spnwincest#this isn't as good as i hoped but whatever it's been in my head for days#it just didn't end the way i wanted it to#i wanted angst!#and drama!#and dean pining!#but i digress#who cares#long post#kiri wincest#spn fic#it's a terrible life
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WARM AND SAFE IN YOUR ARMS
Nights like these, when they got back from a long hunt and were able to relax and let down their guard, Sam liked to lay back in their comfortable memory foam bed that Dean had insisted on buying and just think (after taking a long, hot shower and scrubbing away all the blood and grime, of course). It was only in the bunker because in shitty motels rooms it was almost impossible for him to relax enough to fall into a deep sleep, and the uncomfortable beds and the distance between his and Dean’s beds never helped at all. Usually, he thought about anything and everything until he got tired and unable to resist the call of sleep, but tonight was different.
The bunker was quiet, Dean was a warm and solid presence behind him in bed and sleep was already tugging at his eyelids, but every time he felt the brush of Dean’s bandages against his bare back whenever Dean breathed, his stomach churned unpleasantly and tears pricked at his eyes.
The wound wasn’t bad, and his brother had obviously had much worse, but just seeing him slumped against the wall, bleeding and unconscious with a snarling werewolf looming over him had been enough for a mantra of nononoi’mlosinghimnonotagain to run through his mind as he ran towards his brother, gripping the machete tight enough to make his knuckles go white.
Next thing he knew, he was shoving a headless werewolf aside and rushing forward to check his brother’s wounds, relieved to see his brother still breathing yet still bleeding heavily from a wound on his side.
The ride back was a blur with a half-conscious Dean, who had woken up when Sam had been carrying him back to the car, telling him to be more careful with Baby, dammit, I just washed her yesterday.
With Cas and Jack away on a hunt of their own, Sam had to help Dean shower and patch him up himself, but he did so with no complaints because it reminded him of back when it was just him and Dean in shitty motel rooms, bickering and patching each other wounds and then falling into bed together afterwards, a mess of limbs and desperate touches and fuck, your elbow is digging into my stitches and i almost lost you and don’t you dare fucking do that again.
Now, with both of them safe and in bed, with Dean doing that cute snuffle snore behind him (hey, he can’t say that Dean has the cutest, most adorable snuffle snore but he can think it), his warm breaths puffing against Sam’s ear, he can admit to himself just how scared he was of losing Dean.
Yes, he had lost Dean many times before, but the thought of almost losing him again was just too much. Damn werewolf. Sam suddenly wished that he remembered cutting the werewolf’s head off, if only to get satisfaction from the image.
The last time he had been this scared was back when Dean had gotten hurt for the first time and John had left them alone to finish the hunt since people were dying.
God, just the thought of it...
******
Sam was tired. No, it wasn’t late and yes, he had slept a full 8 hours last night. He was just tired of John and Dean going off on hunts and leaving him alone, only calling when they needed information on the monster they were looking to kill.
He was tired of sitting besides the phone with his heart in his throat, watching the door like a hawk and hoping - praying that Dean would come back to him healthy and whole and with that shit eating grin on his face and his stupid miss me, Sammy? because if he didn’t and Sam never saw him again, then...
No. He wasn’t gonna think like that. Dean always came back to him, and he was gonna come back to him this time, too, or Sam was gonna chase down his ghost and salt and burn his bones himself. A hunter’s funeral wouldn’t have been needed after Sam was done with him.
Sam was so deep in thought that when the door slammed open, he almost jumped 20 feet up in the air. He opened his mouth to say something about the brute entrance but froze with the words on the tip of his tongue when he noticed the limp form of his 19-year-old brother in his father’s arms.
“What happened?” He gasped, swallowing around his heart in his throat as he watched John lay a pale Dean down on one of the beds and start to tend to his wounds carefully.
Sam almost threw up when he saw all the cuts and bruises covering his brother’s body, the body that he had spent many a night pressed up against as they kissed and desperately rutted against each other, trying to muffle moans and groans into each other’s necks.
The sight of the three deep, bloody claw marks running down Dean’s muscled back almost did make him lose his dinner, but he calmed down in favor of helping his father, who hadn’t bothered in answering Sam’s question.
Soon after they finished, John left again to finish the hunt and left Sam with instructions to care for Dean.
Dean was always so careful on hunts, so how...?
Sam spent three days at his brother’s bedside without even a wink of sleep, constantly caring for him and changing the bandages and trying to keep him comfortable and clean.
On the evening of the fourth day, with the sun setting behind Sam, his brother finally showed signs of waking, groaning and cursing under his breath as he slowly opened his eyes.
“Dean?” Sam asked hopefully, watching as his brother slowly turned his head to look at him, eyes wide in what seemed like awe.
Slowly, his lips curled into a familiar smirk, that paired with his hooded eyes with a spark of mischief in them made heat start to bloom in Sam which he promptly ignored.
“Heya, Sammy. You missed me?” Came his brother’s tired voice and Sam finally let himself cry in relief as he jumped forward to press his lips against his brother’s in a kiss in which he expressed all the love and fear and relief that he didn’t think he was able to say with words at this moment.
Dean quickly took control of the kiss and Sam melted into it, curling his hand into the front of Dean’s loose t-shirt and leaning closer. “Don’t scare me like that again, I thought I lost you.” Sam hissed and Dean simply chuckled, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper as the sun set behind them.
******
“You’re tense, Sam.” Dean’s sudden voice, paired with the soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck made Sam startle slightly and pulled him out of his thoughts, which only made Dean chuckle sleepily and pull the taller male closer against his body. “What’s wrong?” He murmured, lips still pressed against Sam’s neck.
Sam paused, wondering if he should tell Dean what was bothering him. Moments like these made his brother more prone to talk but... “It’s nothing.” He sighed, attempting to shrink into himself when Dean pinched his hip and tightened the arm wrapped around his waist in an almost possessive manner.
Dean didn’t say anything but Sam still got the message, sighing as he turned around and bit back a smile when Dean simply pressed their bodies close again, careful with the wound on his side.
Looking away, Sam took a few moments to collect his thoughts before muttering a “I thought I lost you today, Dean.”. He could almost feel Dean’s gaze on him, its intensity making a shiver run down Sam’s spine.
Again, Dean said nothing. He simply pulled Sam close and kissed him, one hand rubbing his hip gently. “I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re not losing me again, I promise.” He whispered when he pulled away and Sam hid his face in his brother’s chest, trying to hide the tears that wanted to fall.
Dean simply held him and ran his hand up and down Sam’s back in a gentle caress as he cried until he finally fell asleep in his arms.
Only then did he kiss his baby brother’s forehead and whisper a soft “Goodnight, baby boy.”, knowing fully well that he intended to do everything in his power and more to keep his promise and keep his baby brother, whose heart was sometimes too big, safe and sound in his arms. Only then did he let himself fall back asleep, knowing no harm would ever come to his baby boy as long as they were together, no force on heaven or earth or hell able to keep them apart.
They were soulmates, after all.
#spnwincest#wincest#hurt!dean#implied bottom!sam#implied top!dean#sam and dean winchester in love#i’m actually really proud of this#nini’s late night writings#from now on i’m tagging all my works with that tag < and this one >#🌱
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Collaboration I did for the SMPC Story on AO3
You can find the black-square free version on twitter and a more explicit version is up on patreon.
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❝ i'm laughing with my lover, making forts under covers
trust him like a b r o t h e r, yeah, you know i did one thing right ❞
#wincest#wincestedit#spnwincest#wincest edit#sam winchester#dean winchester#spn#im trying to learn new stuff on photoshop#its kinda ok i guess??#not great#but#like#acceptable#my stuff#reputation edit#taylor swift#lyrics#taylor edit
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15 seasons later and Sam still falls for the good ol’ "listen, Dean will get HURT if you don’t do it"
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