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grianchlochTitle: Penance
Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2076
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seleneheart
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: Based early in season five. Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Penance square.
Summary: After Sam frees Lucifer, Dean knows that he’s sorry, knows he would take it all back if he could, but Dean’s still hurting over Sam choosing Ruby over him. Sam has to understand that saying sorry won't help Dean forgive him, it's going to take more than that.
It hurts to look at Sam. Dean sees past the miserable face of the brother he’s loved since Sam first drew breath. He sees the rage as Sam choked him, sees the arrogance as Sam spat ugly words at him while he was under the siren’s spell, sees the countless times that Sam lied to him. Again, and again, and again, until it grated over raw nerve endings leaving Dean sore and worn out.
Now Lucifer is free, Sam’s different. The guilt weighs on him, making his shoulders hunch. Dean knows that Sam’s sorry, knows he would take it all back if he could, but Dean’s still hurting. He can’t stand to touch Sam the way he used to, and it takes a while to understand that this is the worst punishment for Sam. There’s pain in Sam’s eyes when Dean does look at him, ironic really, as Dean knows it’s mirrored in his own. And as time goes on, and Dean stays distant, he can see fear creeping in.
That’s when Dean understands.
They finish a case. No big deal for a change, a straight forward salt and burn. Dean buys them breakfast to go, and Sam follows him back out to the Impala. There are dark circles under Sam’s eyes and he drags his feet a little.
Dean drives them to a quiet spot on the road out of town that he’d noticed on the way in. He parks the car, and Sam shoots him a puzzled glance as he gets out, taking both breakfasts with him, and sits down at one of the picnic tables by the side of the small lake.
It’s peaceful and the early morning sun casts a warm glow over the water. They eat in silence, which isn’t unusual anymore. Dean misses the easy banter they shared for so long, misses Sam getting pissy over things that amuse Dean, misses his brother’s laughter. It didn’t happen often, but Dean misses the unrestrained joy he’d feel when Sam laughed.
He guesses he forgot something along the way. He forgot that he was the older brother, the one who could always make things right for Sam, no matter what.
Dean finishes eating, and scrunches up the bag, ready to dump in the trash as they leave. He wraps his hands around the paper cup of coffee, and takes a sip, gazing out over the serene lake.
“This isn’t working.”
“What?” Sam’s eyes are wide and fearful.
And that, right there, is what Dean has to get rid of.
“What you did? I can’t forget it, and I still can’t forgive it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could take it back …”
“But you can’t.”
“You want me gone again?” Sam hangs his head.
Dean reaches out and covers Sam’s hands with his own. Sam jumps, but doesn’t pull away. He pushes his hands up a little, and Dean tightens his grip. Slowly, Sam looks up.
“I don’t want you gone. I want you here.” His thumbs move over Sam’s skin, and some of the tension visibly leaves Sam’s shoulders. “You’re my brother, Sammy, and more than that. But it hurts, and I can’t just get over it. I guess it has to heal by itself and I don’t know how long it’s going to take to really trust you again.”
Sam nods, misery still present on his face. “So what now?”
“We hunt, we fight, and we try to stop the apocalypse. As a team. We work together, just like always. But you have to understand that this isn’t about you, and how you can make things right. I’m not trying to punish you, Sam …”
“It’s my penance,” Sam finishes for him. It’s about giving Dean time to trust him again. It’s hard, because he wants things to be the way they were, but he gets it. Not having that is atonement for what he did to Dean. “I … can live with that.” It won’t be easy, but he guesses that’s the point.
“Thanks.” Dean squeezes Sam’s hands again and lets go.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sam stops apologizing. Now he understands that no matter how many times he says he’s sorry, he can’t magically push Dean into forgiving him. He fights by Dean’s side, he researches and does his best to move forward while being aware that Dean is gradually relaxing back into familiar patterns around him.
After a hard chase, with demons hot on their tail until they ditched them by pulling an almost suicidal move, they are both riding high on the thrill of surviving. They sit in the Impala, taking a moment to catch their breath, grinning at each other. When Dean reaches for him, Sam’s shocked enough that it takes him a moment to get with the program and kiss his brother back. Dean mauls his mouth and Sam groans as the pent up need of weeks without Dean’s touch surges through him. But Dean eases away too soon for Sam’s liking. Sam’s first instinct is to press forward, insist on more, demand that Dean get naked with him right the hell now, but he stops, reining in the heated desire that claws at his belly.
Dean sits back, smiling, and drives them on until they’ve put several towns between them and the demons. Sam sits looking out of the window for a while, willing away the erection that’s becoming uncomfortable. This is part of his penance too, he gets that now. He has to give control of this to Dean without objecting, without making a fuss. He has to let Dean set the pace.
But Dean had kissed him, and lately, small touches have become the norm again, so Sam guesses that touching is okay. He shifts on the seat, curling his tall frame around until he can pillow his head on Dean’s thigh. Dean lays a hand on his head, and Sam lets out a long breath. He tries to clear his mind of everything but Dean’s touch, and falls asleep before they get to where they were going.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dean lightly cards his fingers through Sam’s hair, keeping his eyes on the road. He’s proud of his brother. He knows that the Sam of old would have pushed it, would have surged against him and demanded more, and in the past, Dean would have gladly given it to him, but they aren’t the same as before. That Sam’s acknowledging it and has willingly given control to Dean shows how serious he is about his penance. Of all the apologies he’s made, this act of contrition is the one that means the most to Dean.
His fingers slip onto Sam’s neck, and Sam snuffles in his sleep against Dean’s leg. Dean smiles to himself as it strikes him that this is the first time in a long while that he’s felt content.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Now as time goes on, Dean begins to let Sam back in. The banter returns, slowly ramping up to what it had been before and Dean starts to put his trust in Sam again.
Then one night, as they go through their usual routines, Sam walks out of the bathroom, sweatpants low on his hips, yawning and heading for the bed furthest away from the door.
“Sam,” Dean easily gets his attention. “Sleep here tonight.”
Sam doesn’t ask if Dean’s sure, he doesn’t want to give him the opportunity to change his mind, and if Dean’s taken the decision to ask, he must mean it.
Sam crawls up the bed, straight into Dean’s arms. He buries his face in Dean’s neck and shudders as Dean strokes his hair.
“Sleep, Sammy. It’s been a tough day.”
Sam closes his eyes. He tentatively reaches out and curls an arm around Dean’s back. Dean sighs appreciatively and brushes his lips across Sam’s cheek. Instead of seeking more, Sam accepts what he’s given, relaxes and falls asleep, Dean’s scent soothing him.
The sun is peeking through the curtains when Sam wakes. He’s been dreaming that Dean was kissing him and running his hands over Sam’s body, but it hadn’t been a dream. He opens his eyes and groans as Dean kisses him harder.
“Want you,” Dean murmurs against his mouth.
Sam wriggles out of his sweatpants, acutely aware that Dean has already done the same and is naked on the bed next to him. He moves closer, expecting Dean to push him onto his back, to push his knees apart and fuck him, but Dean does the opposite. He lies back and pulls Sam over him, spreading his legs to give Sam access.
Sam’s more than a little surprised, but doesn’t question Dean. He trusts that it’s what Dean really wants, just as Dean’s showing how much he trusts Sam by giving him this. He bends his head and kisses his brother, hungry for him after so long of having him close without being able to touch. Dean groans into his mouth and arches up, pulling Sam closer, kissing him back with a heated desire that matches Sam’s.
Dean brings his knees up and wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, urging him on with thrusts of his hips. Sam can feel the hard length of Dean’s erection sliding against his own, so good after so long of needing to be close to him again. Sam manhandles Dean, slipping an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him up as he kneels back on his heels until Dean’s straddling his lap, long legs still curled around him. Sam mauls Dean’s neck, nuzzling first, drinking in his scent, then licking, and biting down, hard enough to have Dean writhing in his arms.
One hand slips down Dean’s back, fingers delving down between Dean’s spread cheeks to find his hole already slicked.
“Ah, Dean,” Sam groans as he takes his cock in his hand and pulls back so he can see Dean’s face as he pushes inside.
He watches Dean’s eyes glaze over as he fills him inch by inch, the muscles in Sam’s arms bunching with the effort of lowering Dean slowly down as he thrusts up, small movements taking him deeper each time. Dean pants, shuddering in Sam’s arms, moving his hips and biting his lip as Sam’s dick presses against his prostate. Now Sam begins to move, holding Dean steady as he fucks him. Dean holds onto Sam’s shoulders, giving Sam full control.
Sam moans, powering up into Dean, taking it further and throwing him back down to the bed, pushing his legs wide apart and fucking into him again in one long smooth stroke.
Dean cries out, reaching behind him to grip onto the headboard as Sam slams into him again and again. Dean takes hold of his dick with his other hand, working it, not taking his eyes from Sam’s until he comes in hot white spurts over his chest. His body tightens as he loses it, and Sam growls, gripping Dean’s hips hard enough to bruise as he lets go. Sam almost blacks out as his orgasm rips through him, forcing his body into a taut arch, then leaving him spent and boneless, collapsed over Dean’s sticky chest, his cock still buried in Dean’s ass.
He loses track of how long they lie there until Dean squirms underneath him and groans.
“Urgh, sticky.” Dean gently shoves Sam off him, grinning when Sam objects, and cleans the come off his chest with a t shirt.
Sam grabs the shirt when Dean’s finished with it and dies a quick clean up job on himself. He knows he could probably do with a shower, but doesn’t want to move off the bed and away from Dean. He scoots closer again, and Dean rolls onto his side so Sam can curl up against his back like he used to do, back before Dean went to Hell.
Sam’s grateful to Dean for making him understand that forgiveness doesn’t come easy, that it can’t be earned with apologies or regrets. It has to be given freely. He’s not naive enough to think that because of one night, everything will be back the way it was, but it’s a start, and he’s willing to spend the rest of his life repenting for his sins. As he accepts that, contentment spreads through him and he buries his face in Dean’s neck.
In the dark, Dean smiles, and reaches back to pull Sam closer.
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Characters: Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2076
Beta:
seleneheartDisclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Notes: Based early in season five. Written for Kink Bingo 2011, for the Penance square.
Summary: After Sam frees Lucifer, Dean knows that he’s sorry, knows he would take it all back if he could, but Dean’s still hurting over Sam choosing Ruby over him. Sam has to understand that saying sorry won't help Dean forgive him, it's going to take more than that.
It hurts to look at Sam. Dean sees past the miserable face of the brother he’s loved since Sam first drew breath. He sees the rage as Sam choked him, sees the arrogance as Sam spat ugly words at him while he was under the siren’s spell, sees the countless times that Sam lied to him. Again, and again, and again, until it grated over raw nerve endings leaving Dean sore and worn out.
Now Lucifer is free, Sam’s different. The guilt weighs on him, making his shoulders hunch. Dean knows that Sam’s sorry, knows he would take it all back if he could, but Dean’s still hurting. He can’t stand to touch Sam the way he used to, and it takes a while to understand that this is the worst punishment for Sam. There’s pain in Sam’s eyes when Dean does look at him, ironic really, as Dean knows it’s mirrored in his own. And as time goes on, and Dean stays distant, he can see fear creeping in.
That’s when Dean understands.
They finish a case. No big deal for a change, a straight forward salt and burn. Dean buys them breakfast to go, and Sam follows him back out to the Impala. There are dark circles under Sam’s eyes and he drags his feet a little.
Dean drives them to a quiet spot on the road out of town that he’d noticed on the way in. He parks the car, and Sam shoots him a puzzled glance as he gets out, taking both breakfasts with him, and sits down at one of the picnic tables by the side of the small lake.
It’s peaceful and the early morning sun casts a warm glow over the water. They eat in silence, which isn’t unusual anymore. Dean misses the easy banter they shared for so long, misses Sam getting pissy over things that amuse Dean, misses his brother’s laughter. It didn’t happen often, but Dean misses the unrestrained joy he’d feel when Sam laughed.
He guesses he forgot something along the way. He forgot that he was the older brother, the one who could always make things right for Sam, no matter what.
Dean finishes eating, and scrunches up the bag, ready to dump in the trash as they leave. He wraps his hands around the paper cup of coffee, and takes a sip, gazing out over the serene lake.
“This isn’t working.”
“What?” Sam’s eyes are wide and fearful.
And that, right there, is what Dean has to get rid of.
“What you did? I can’t forget it, and I still can’t forgive it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could take it back …”
“But you can’t.”
“You want me gone again?” Sam hangs his head.
Dean reaches out and covers Sam’s hands with his own. Sam jumps, but doesn’t pull away. He pushes his hands up a little, and Dean tightens his grip. Slowly, Sam looks up.
“I don’t want you gone. I want you here.” His thumbs move over Sam’s skin, and some of the tension visibly leaves Sam’s shoulders. “You’re my brother, Sammy, and more than that. But it hurts, and I can’t just get over it. I guess it has to heal by itself and I don’t know how long it’s going to take to really trust you again.”
Sam nods, misery still present on his face. “So what now?”
“We hunt, we fight, and we try to stop the apocalypse. As a team. We work together, just like always. But you have to understand that this isn’t about you, and how you can make things right. I’m not trying to punish you, Sam …”
“It’s my penance,” Sam finishes for him. It’s about giving Dean time to trust him again. It’s hard, because he wants things to be the way they were, but he gets it. Not having that is atonement for what he did to Dean. “I … can live with that.” It won’t be easy, but he guesses that’s the point.
“Thanks.” Dean squeezes Sam’s hands again and lets go.
Sam stops apologizing. Now he understands that no matter how many times he says he’s sorry, he can’t magically push Dean into forgiving him. He fights by Dean’s side, he researches and does his best to move forward while being aware that Dean is gradually relaxing back into familiar patterns around him.
After a hard chase, with demons hot on their tail until they ditched them by pulling an almost suicidal move, they are both riding high on the thrill of surviving. They sit in the Impala, taking a moment to catch their breath, grinning at each other. When Dean reaches for him, Sam’s shocked enough that it takes him a moment to get with the program and kiss his brother back. Dean mauls his mouth and Sam groans as the pent up need of weeks without Dean’s touch surges through him. But Dean eases away too soon for Sam’s liking. Sam’s first instinct is to press forward, insist on more, demand that Dean get naked with him right the hell now, but he stops, reining in the heated desire that claws at his belly.
Dean sits back, smiling, and drives them on until they’ve put several towns between them and the demons. Sam sits looking out of the window for a while, willing away the erection that’s becoming uncomfortable. This is part of his penance too, he gets that now. He has to give control of this to Dean without objecting, without making a fuss. He has to let Dean set the pace.
But Dean had kissed him, and lately, small touches have become the norm again, so Sam guesses that touching is okay. He shifts on the seat, curling his tall frame around until he can pillow his head on Dean’s thigh. Dean lays a hand on his head, and Sam lets out a long breath. He tries to clear his mind of everything but Dean’s touch, and falls asleep before they get to where they were going.
Dean lightly cards his fingers through Sam’s hair, keeping his eyes on the road. He’s proud of his brother. He knows that the Sam of old would have pushed it, would have surged against him and demanded more, and in the past, Dean would have gladly given it to him, but they aren’t the same as before. That Sam’s acknowledging it and has willingly given control to Dean shows how serious he is about his penance. Of all the apologies he’s made, this act of contrition is the one that means the most to Dean.
His fingers slip onto Sam’s neck, and Sam snuffles in his sleep against Dean’s leg. Dean smiles to himself as it strikes him that this is the first time in a long while that he’s felt content.
Now as time goes on, Dean begins to let Sam back in. The banter returns, slowly ramping up to what it had been before and Dean starts to put his trust in Sam again.
Then one night, as they go through their usual routines, Sam walks out of the bathroom, sweatpants low on his hips, yawning and heading for the bed furthest away from the door.
“Sam,” Dean easily gets his attention. “Sleep here tonight.”
Sam doesn’t ask if Dean’s sure, he doesn’t want to give him the opportunity to change his mind, and if Dean’s taken the decision to ask, he must mean it.
Sam crawls up the bed, straight into Dean’s arms. He buries his face in Dean’s neck and shudders as Dean strokes his hair.
“Sleep, Sammy. It’s been a tough day.”
Sam closes his eyes. He tentatively reaches out and curls an arm around Dean’s back. Dean sighs appreciatively and brushes his lips across Sam’s cheek. Instead of seeking more, Sam accepts what he’s given, relaxes and falls asleep, Dean’s scent soothing him.
The sun is peeking through the curtains when Sam wakes. He’s been dreaming that Dean was kissing him and running his hands over Sam’s body, but it hadn’t been a dream. He opens his eyes and groans as Dean kisses him harder.
“Want you,” Dean murmurs against his mouth.
Sam wriggles out of his sweatpants, acutely aware that Dean has already done the same and is naked on the bed next to him. He moves closer, expecting Dean to push him onto his back, to push his knees apart and fuck him, but Dean does the opposite. He lies back and pulls Sam over him, spreading his legs to give Sam access.
Sam’s more than a little surprised, but doesn’t question Dean. He trusts that it’s what Dean really wants, just as Dean’s showing how much he trusts Sam by giving him this. He bends his head and kisses his brother, hungry for him after so long of having him close without being able to touch. Dean groans into his mouth and arches up, pulling Sam closer, kissing him back with a heated desire that matches Sam’s.
Dean brings his knees up and wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, urging him on with thrusts of his hips. Sam can feel the hard length of Dean’s erection sliding against his own, so good after so long of needing to be close to him again. Sam manhandles Dean, slipping an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him up as he kneels back on his heels until Dean’s straddling his lap, long legs still curled around him. Sam mauls Dean’s neck, nuzzling first, drinking in his scent, then licking, and biting down, hard enough to have Dean writhing in his arms.
One hand slips down Dean’s back, fingers delving down between Dean’s spread cheeks to find his hole already slicked.
“Ah, Dean,” Sam groans as he takes his cock in his hand and pulls back so he can see Dean’s face as he pushes inside.
He watches Dean’s eyes glaze over as he fills him inch by inch, the muscles in Sam’s arms bunching with the effort of lowering Dean slowly down as he thrusts up, small movements taking him deeper each time. Dean pants, shuddering in Sam’s arms, moving his hips and biting his lip as Sam’s dick presses against his prostate. Now Sam begins to move, holding Dean steady as he fucks him. Dean holds onto Sam’s shoulders, giving Sam full control.
Sam moans, powering up into Dean, taking it further and throwing him back down to the bed, pushing his legs wide apart and fucking into him again in one long smooth stroke.
Dean cries out, reaching behind him to grip onto the headboard as Sam slams into him again and again. Dean takes hold of his dick with his other hand, working it, not taking his eyes from Sam’s until he comes in hot white spurts over his chest. His body tightens as he loses it, and Sam growls, gripping Dean’s hips hard enough to bruise as he lets go. Sam almost blacks out as his orgasm rips through him, forcing his body into a taut arch, then leaving him spent and boneless, collapsed over Dean’s sticky chest, his cock still buried in Dean’s ass.
He loses track of how long they lie there until Dean squirms underneath him and groans.
“Urgh, sticky.” Dean gently shoves Sam off him, grinning when Sam objects, and cleans the come off his chest with a t shirt.
Sam grabs the shirt when Dean’s finished with it and dies a quick clean up job on himself. He knows he could probably do with a shower, but doesn’t want to move off the bed and away from Dean. He scoots closer again, and Dean rolls onto his side so Sam can curl up against his back like he used to do, back before Dean went to Hell.
Sam’s grateful to Dean for making him understand that forgiveness doesn’t come easy, that it can’t be earned with apologies or regrets. It has to be given freely. He’s not naive enough to think that because of one night, everything will be back the way it was, but it’s a start, and he’s willing to spend the rest of his life repenting for his sins. As he accepts that, contentment spreads through him and he buries his face in Dean’s neck.
In the dark, Dean smiles, and reaches back to pull Sam closer.
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