Will This Change Us?
Waking up in the middle of the night with a sudden feeling that something wasn’t right wasn’t anything new for Dean Winchester. He’d been doing it basically since he’d been four years old and his world had literally gone up in flames, but after defeating Chuck and learning that finally he and his brother were free of any Godly manipulations, he was hoping for at least a week without that inner sixth sense screaming at him to wake up.
Earlier that night, he and Sam had decided to close the bunker and hit the road for a while and just see where it took them.
Neither Winchester was naïve enough to think that they’d ever fully be free of hunting; while Dean was confident that angels and demons might be gone, the odds of the more normal types of monsters still being around were still high, so Dean figured they’d take what peace and quiet they could get and deal with the rest as it came.
He had noticed that Sam had been unusually quiet and a bit clingier after they’d made love, but Dean had just shrugged that off to the recent events finally beginning to settle with his younger brother.
Out of the two of them, it had always been Sam that thought about things more and often tended to handle his deeper emotions in ways different than Dean did so the elder brother had merely held his brother and figured he’d let Sam open up at his own speed.
Or that had been his plan until he woke up with that knowing feeling that something wasn’t right and a shift of his arm told him that not only was he alone in his bed but that the other side was cold, which told Dean that Sam had woken up and slipped from the bed a while ago.
Growing up with, raising Sam enabled Dean to know there could be a number of different reasons for Sam to have troubles sleeping that night and truthfully, as far as Dean was concerned, none of them were really good so with a sigh he sat up, ran his fingers back through his hair and grabbed for his jeans to go in search of Sam.
Seeing Sam’s boots still beside the bed relieved Dean a little since that probably meant his brother hadn’t gone outside or too far.
Dean didn’t even bother looking in Sam’s own room. He bypassed the kitchen after a sudden hunch told him where to look and as he got to the door leading to the main room with the large, heavy wooden table he paused in the door to just watch as it appeared as if Sam was using his finger to trace what Dean knew to be their initials.
“Will this change us?”
The sudden question took the still half-asleep hunter off guard. He hadn’t even thought that Sam might have known he was standing there so it took his tired brain a few seconds to catch up. Even then, Dean wasn’t sure what Sam might be referring to except maybe one thing.
“Well, without Chuck messing around writing our lives like a book or being toys for his amusement, I’m not sure if getting hurt too badly on a hunt or actually killed would be good since this time I think it might actually hold.” Dean replied with what he thought was his best answer at four in the morning when he was still tired both physically and emotionally from finally beating all of their nightmares.
“Huh. Okay then, bitch face #7,” he grunted, running his tongue over his teeth to avoid the smile that wanted to come. It had been a damn long time since Sam had shot him one of his better bitch faces. “That one was usually due to me giving you a reply that wasn’t anywhere close to what you’d asked me about.”
Sam slowly shifted his head from where he’d been studying their initials to look across the distance to where Dean was standing, unaware of how the front of his hair had fallen forward due to restless fingers dragging through it so it helped to hide his eyes in the low light.
“Will this, not having Chuck controlling things or writing our story, change us, Dean?” Sam asked, looking back down to the table before starting to nervously twirl something else close to his fingers.
“Change us?” Dean blinked, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes while attempting to make sense of his obviously upset sibling. “Change us how?” he asked, confused, and only getting more so with the sound of frustration Sam made. “Sammy, dude, you need to give me a little more to go on here. I mean, if you mean do I think we’re both going to change into cashmere sweater, man bun wearing douchebags one morning all because Chuck isn’t pulling our strings then no, but…”
“No! I meant will it change us!” Sam was tired but also frustrated by his brother’s failure to grasp what he was asking or concerned with. He made a rapid motion back and forth between them as if to indicate what he was trying to get Dean to understand. “Us, Dean! Us, as in you and me!” he shouted this time, starting to push up from the chair he’d been sitting in for however long it had been since too many thoughts had driven him from Dean’s bed and his brother’s arms but just slumped back with a muttered curse while giving what had been in his fingers a toss so it landed in the middle of the table.
Dean was still trying to put the pieces together when his eyes suddenly caught sight of the object Sam tossed and it slowly began to click. “Okay, now I’m back with you,” he said, approaching the table slowly when he noticed even in the low light of the main room how tense Sam seemed.
He also noticed that Sam was keeping his gaze away from Dean’s own so that also was a warning sign for Dean. “What brought this up suddenly, Sammy?” he asked, moving to pull another chair closer but not too close; knowing when to give his brother space.
“Chuck said that our whole lives were controlled by his whims, his scenes, his choices. Just like rats in a maze I think were your words one time about it,” Sam began hesitantly, voice soft like it got when he was nervous or worried. “So when I got woke up, I started thinking about how writing our own story will go or what might change or…” he paused to take a shaky breath when he felt the black rubber bracelet that he’d been twirling on the table slipped back on his wrist before Dean’s hand covered it. “So… will this whole being free to be us end up changing us?” he asked again, softer this time.
He started to drop his chin to his chest as if to avoid whatever he might see in his older brother’s green eyes when he suddenly gasped at the feel of warm lips touching his wrist and Sam’s eyes snapped up to see Dean watching him calmly.
“Is that what the nightmare that woke you up was about, Sammy?” he asked, keeping Sam’s hand held loosely in his while brushing another kiss along his wrist to feel the pulse jump a little under his lips. “That because we’re free from Chuck, free from anyone yanking our chains that one morning I’ll wake up and suddenly not feel anything for you other than being your big brother?” Dean saw the nod and understood it because it was easy to think that after everything they’d learned in the last year or so about their lives.
Dean also understood that Chuck had already done a number on Sam’s head before while they were trying to stop him so he guessed he should have seen this worry coming; especially given that every now and then Sam still had his doubts whether, after everything that they’d been through, Dean still cared for more than the typical ‘duty and obligation’ line.
“I’m guessing the shower sex earlier and making love in our bed before you crashed has slipped that normally smart brain of yours,” he replied, keeping Sam’s hand in his but moving out of the chair until he could kneel down in front of his brother and used his free hand to cup Sam’s chin, lifting it and immediately felt a punch to his gut at the first sight of drying tears on a pale face. “Sammy, look at me.”
Dean waited until slowly Sam’s eyes met his with a shadowed fear that he had thought he’d gotten rid of years ago. “Yes, I’m sure the majority of our lives were controlled by Chuck. Yes, I’m pretty sure he had his fingers in things he shouldn’t have to get his stories back on track, especially if one or both of us did something not in his plans,” he could see slowly as Sam’s head turned to the side as he slid his palm there to cup it lovingly that it looked like Sam was thinking about his words. “I honestly don’t think that 100% of our lives were all of his doing... maybe 97% and that other 3%? That, baby boy, was me telling you that I loved you as a helluva lot more than just as my brother.”
The huskiness of Dean’s voice, the way it dropped from its normal tone to the one it did when it was just the two of them, never failed to capture Sam’s attention. Though what would never fail to catch and hold Sam’s focus was when his brother used the only other nickname Sam ever allowed and much like ‘Sammy’, this one was also only allowed to be used by his older brother but usually under much different circumstances.
“So, you don’t think us crossing those lines from brothers to lovers way back when was something God would do?” Sam knew he was overthinking or coming close to paranoia, but it was so hard to trust after learning how much of their lives had been controlled.
“Considering it’s still illegal in nearly 98% of the states we go to? Pretty safe to say that Chuck did not see me giving into those great big hazel eyes all those years ago. Maybe after the fact, but by then it was ‘canon’ since nothing he or anyone else has tried to do has ever been able to stop how I feel for you… in a not an annoying pain in the ass little brother way.” Dean’s lips curved a little more into a smirk, starting to relax a little when he heard Sam chuckle and saw some of the tension that had been in his brother’s body begin to ease.
“Sammy, I’ve said it before and I will tell you always, so long as this beats it will beat for you,” he went on, moving Sam’s hand to cover his heart, seeing Sam’s smile grow when Dean covered it with his but kept his other on Sam’s cheek. “I don’t think that everything we did was Chuck’s design. I think he wanted to make it look like that to get into our heads, but we beat him. We beat him and now everything that we do is our choices, our lives.”
Dean paused to stand, pulling Sam up with him but shifted so Sam was sitting on the edge of the table as Dean stepped closer, running his fingers back through Sam’s hair to clear it from hazel eyes that weren’t as worried looking now, and feeling the light touch of his brother’s hands on his waist. “Every choice we make, every road we take is up to you and me, little brother,” he said, brushing a soft kiss along Sam’s lips. “Our lives. Our choices. Our decisions. Our futures.”
Each small phrase was accompanied by a gentle kiss over Sam’s face with the last one being pressed in the center of his forehead because Dean had learned a while ago that his brother was weak for those little touches. In truth, Dean enjoyed them as well but would die painfully or cut his brother’s hair before admitting that.
“Our decisions?” Sam had heard that one and latched on since that was still one of the sticking points between them at times.
Rolling his eyes and with a mock blown out breath, Dean stepped closer until their chests were touching and he felt Sam’s arms encircle his waist. “Fine. If I say I’ll try harder to not be so over-protective and try to let you make your own decisions, will that make you happy, little brother?” he asked, offering a playful kiss over Sam’s lips to feel them curve into a smile.
“Promise to try to let me worry about you, protect you like you do for me, and no more secrets or lies between us, and that will make me happy, Dean.” Sam replied, arching on a sudden gasp when Dean’s fingers suddenly moved up to catch a handful of thick, dark hair to give a gentle tug back so hot lips could find his pulse point and begin to suck until both knew there’d be a mark in the morning.
“Promise all of that and so much more, baby boy.” Dean replied in the tone that was pure sinful honey and sex that never failed to melt Sam’s brain and turn him on more than the feel of his brother’s calloused fingertips sliding under the t-shirt Sam had pulled on when he’d gotten up or the start of five o’clock shadow along his throat as Dean’s mouth continued its path of kisses and light bites up his neck until reaching the spot just below Sam’s earlobe to nuzzle.
“Now… have I reassured all of your doubts for right this moment?” he asked while feeling how Sam’s body was reacting to both him being this close and what they were doing, he also could see the outline of his brother’s hardening cock even in the loose sleep pants.
Sam groaned at the feel of fingertips running over his scalp, one of his secret vices and he knew his brother knew that. “Umm… yeah,” he thought he managed to say, coherent thought much less words would be getting less manageable for him if Dean kept kissing him this way but he thought that might be his brother’s plan.
“No more worries or fears about waking up one morning and me forgetting how hot you look when you first come out of the shower or… actually, how hot you look anytime?” Dean asked, smiling as he licked a stripe up from Sam’s collarbone to that special spot under his earlobe and both felt and heard Sam’s reaction this time. “I will take both that sound and what I feel as you answering ‘no’,” he smirked as he felt Sam’s hips move as if to find some friction for his interested cock. “Any other questions I need to answer for you?”
“Do you plan to be a jackass the rest of the night or fuck me sometime?” Sam asked without thinking of his wording or how raw he sounded as a sudden rush of need hit him out of nowhere as if having his fears dispelled now made him want to feel Dean’s hands on him much faster than it seemed like his brother was going. “Mmhm!” he groaned as Dean’s mouth caught his in a searing kiss at the same time as he was tugged away from the table.
The next few minutes were a blur to the younger Winchester. All he was focused on was the feel of his brother’s hands and mouth as both moved over him. He thought he caught Dean’s low, sex is sin laugh once but decided it wasn’t vital enough to focus on especially when suddenly Sam really kicked himself for putting on more than just his sleep pants. He now decided his t-shirt and boxer briefs were really annoying and wanted them off in the worst way.
That was the second Sam felt his back hit a mattress, felt a firm grip lock his wrists together over his head while he felt a familiar weight settle over his legs and let his eyes snap open to realize that sometime in his distraction Dean had gotten them from the main room, back to Dean’s room and that his brother had pinned him on the bed after removing the offending items of clothes and was now just looking down at him with that one smirk that Sam both loved and hated.
“Easy, Tiger,” he almost purred the words that still were familiar to Sam’s ears despite the years that had passed since a night at Stanford. “We’ll get there,” he reassured his suddenly tensing brother, tightening his grip in a way that Dean knew Sam would recognize and understood it was merely meant to remind Sam to calm down.
“First, yes, I probably will still be a jackass sometimes because that’s what I do as your awesome big brother,” Dean paused until he saw Sam’s eyes meet his again after they’d looked around to gauge his surroundings and suddenly understood that it might take his brother a lot more time to trust that they were well and truly on their own and no one was messing with them. “As for the other thing you asked me?” he smoothly shifted the grip he had on Sam’s wrists to just one hand so he could have the other one free to catch his brother’s jaw, holding it so their eyes would lock. “I think we’ve covered this issue too but I’ll say it again,” he took a second to wait for Sam to blink after he leaned closer to press another kiss to the center of his forehead and this time felt the remaining tension melt away. “I will not fuck you. I will make love with you in our bed anytime you want me to.”
Dean counted to three in his head before he watched that one little pronoun dawn on his brother and knew for as long as he lived now that nothing would be better than watching the way Sam’s face softened and then lit with a full on dimpled smile that the elder brother couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen on his brother.
“I love you, Sammy,” he murmured, leaning closer so their foreheads touched for just a moment before beginning to slowly kiss Sam again; letting the heat build slowly; unlike earlier that evening Dean didn’t feel a need to rush.
Because they had made love twice that evening, Dean knew Sam should still be loose enough to take him without much more prep, but because it was Sam and because Dean wanted to be sure, he used the distraction of kissing Sam with more heat and allowing their tongues to start to play to slide his one hand back to feel that he could still insert three fingers inside of Sam.
“And before you start to get lippy and tell me that no, I don’t need to use lube or re-stretch you, since I know it’s on the tip of your tongue, yes, I do need the lube and yes, I did need to check because no matter how much I might try not to be over protective... taking care of you before, during, and after I’ve made love with you will be things I do always.” Dean remarked as he’d heard the soft inhale Sam took and knew the usual things his impatient brother would say when he was stressed out and wanting relief for his now full, hard, and dripping cock.
Sam had a brief internal debate to shoot another bitch face but given that he knew from firsthand experience how much slower his brother could go while doing this, he chose to keep his mouth shut except for one thing. “I love you, Dean,” he murmured softly and when his brother had moved to shed his jeans and find the bottle of lube they’d used earlier.
Saying those words were things Dean Winchester did infrequently but having them said to him was also something that Sam understood tended to make his brother uneasy and so usually only said them during times like this when they were intimate or if Dean had said them first.
Pausing in reaching for the lube, Dean glanced up with the one smile that always hit Sam hard because he knew it was the one his brother had for just him, when Dean’s guards were down and his smile was genuine.
“I will say this and we will call do-over… next week or something,” Dean began slowly, stopping Sam from rolling over onto his knees by placing his hand over the anti-possession tattoo Sam wore and placing Sam’s hand flat over his own; meeting and holding darkening hazel eyes that were now more golds and blues as Sam’s emotions took over. “I said out there that so long as this beats, it will beat for you. You, my Sammy, will be my heart, my breath, and my world until something takes me out of it,” he finished, leaning closer to let their mouths touch in a kiss that Dean deliberately kept gentle, teasing until he heard a low whine of frustration.
Chuckling softly, he sucked Sam’s well kissed bottom lip between his teeth; fingers starting a slow path from Sam’s stomach up his chest until he got to a hardening little nub and heard a groan this time. “Roll over for me?” he asked, laughing this time at the look Sam shot him even as his ready brother was rolling to his knees so he could prop his arms on the headboard. “Impatient much, Sammy?”
“Jerk,” Sam shot back out of instinct, going still as soon as he heard what he had said and felt the way Dean had gone still behind him, hands on his hips as he’d just been pouring some lube down the crease in Sam’s ass after also using some on his cock.
At first Sam worried he might have thrown Dean off by using the long ago used teasing nicknames they had for each other but then he felt warm lips brush over the back of his neck.
“Love you… bitch.” Dean whispered against Sam’s ear, letting the mushroom head of his cock slip past well-stretched muscles easily and knowing with the first thrust that neither of them would last long this time.
Sam shifted just enough to find some friction on his hard, weeping cock only to moan what was part desire and also part urge to throttle his older brother when he was suddenly pulled back against Dean’s chest so he couldn’t rub off to relieve the pressure building in his heavy balls and fully leaking cock.
“Mine, baby boy.” Dean’s voice this time was pure sex and honey growl and loved the way he felt Sam’s body shudder against his in need. “I will love you, take care of you, but I will also be the hand that makes you come,” he growled, teeth catching and nipping at Sam’s earlobe and was probably as shocked as Sam when he suddenly felt his brother’s body tighten around him a second before Sam shouted his name and Dean felt the stream of hot come hitting his hand and Sam’s stomach at the sudden orgasm.
“Sonuvabitch,” he whispered, nearly stunned at knowing that no matter how long it had been that they had crossed those lines that he could still make Sam climax with just his voice and certain touches. Then it became a matter of not losing his balance and falling off of the bed when he saw a flash of white a second before Sam suddenly was dead weight in his arms and Dean had to be quick to brace them both. “I could make his life hell for this if he wasn’t so damn cute at times… not that he will ever hear me say that to him.” Dean muttered to himself and the now silent bedroom.
Dean gave a couple more thrusts before he felt his own climax hit him and the hunter was suddenly reminded that he’d been woken up in the middle of the night and had to fight the urge to sleep as he slowly, carefully eased them both to their sides so he could just hold Sam to him for the few moments it took his body to cool, his heart to calm from the depth of not only his climax but also Sam’s. Though the hunter knew he had to at least grab a shirt to wipe Sam clean and pull some sleep pants back on them both before sleep came or else the morning might be a little interesting.
A quick look and a feel for a pulse reassured Dean that his brother was just sleeping. Figuring how long he had before Sam’s sexed out brain kicked back online, Dean eased out and heard the soft whimper that he knew was Sam’s sleepy way of expressing displeasure at losing the connection they shared when like this.
“Shhh, I’ll hold you, Sammy,” he murmured softly, doing a rapid and makeshift cleaning job that would suit until they both woke up and showered, Dean slipped Sam back into his sleep pants while making do with just his boxer briefs before easing back into bed and immediately smiled when Sam turned to find the one spot he always had preferred to sleep. “I do not cuddle. I do not cuddle,” he muttered but knew there was very little he wouldn’t do for Sam and if that meant post sex snuggling then the gruff, older hunter would do that… so long as Sam never opened his mouth about it in a fit of drunken talking.
Carding his fingers back through Sam’s hair so he could see his face, Dean smiled more upon seeing that Sam’s face was relaxed and when it was like this, after they’d made love, that his brother looked younger; without all the fears and concerns that had plagued them both the last 15 years.
“Yeah, Sammy. It’s you and me on the road, making our own lives and going back to our roots,” Dean replied to the whispered, sleepy words he only heard because of how Sam was laying with his head over Dean’s heart, their fingers meshing while Dean’s other arm slipped up to hold his brother closer to him before letting his own eyes close with hopes of what the life, post-Chuck, held for them.