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FIC: A Thousand Ways (SPN, Sam/Dean, R)
CRAAAACK. Total angst-vampire-porn that has absolutely nothing to do with last night's episode!
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missmollyetc and the love meme. (Not part of the Venom-verse, but vampires nonetheless. heeeeeee!!)
Title: A Thousand Ways
Author: Audra Rose
Fandom/Pairing: SPN, Sam/Dean
Summary: Sam loves Dean enough.
Sam leans against the open window and listens to the streetlight flicker, fretful buzzing that bats at his nerves, even from three stories up. Still a lot of traffic on the street below, even this close to midnight. It’s always cities for them, now, places where the lights don’t go out at six p.m. and there are whole populations for Dean to seduce before dawn.
He thinks he should just go out there, too, disappear into the crowds, maybe find a bar. Get drunk, get laid -- do anything but just stand in this hotel room with worry gnawing a hole in his stomach, waiting for Dean to show up with whatever he does at night hidden behind a secret smile. Don’t ask me, Sam, Dean used to say, when Sam was still foolish enough to wonder, and he’d have told Dean to go to hell if he wasn't pretty sure they were both there already.
Fuck.
The street noise drifts up to him and he crosses his arms. In a place like this he could find a thousand ways to be lost, and one night he'll just do it, take off into the city and make Dean see what it's like to wait, to wonder if Sam's coming back at all.
But not tonight.
Sam straightens, takes a closer look at the shadows outside and breathes out in relief. Dean, finally. On the ledge. Sam opens the window as wide as it will go and leans out.
“Dude, someone’s going to call the cops.”
Dean’s unmoving, arms on his knees, a breathing shadow watching the street. He could have been sitting there seconds or hours, Sam has no way of knowing.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tired. Infuriatingly certain.
“No one's going to notice a guy on the ledge?” Frayed nerves make him snap. “You hope people will think you’re a – a gargoyle or something?”
Dean turns his face into the light and Sam thinks of marble angels instead of stone monsters. “Well, if you keep yelling at me out the window, Sam, I'm thinking no.”
Sam leans against the window frame and tries not to feel sullen.
“How do you even get up here from the street?”
Dean shakes his head at the traffic below them. “Not sure. Not exactly, anyway.” He looks up, sculpted profile and long throat Sam wants to trace with his fingertips. “This is nothing. Remember Chicago?”
Sam will never forget Chicago and forty stories up, Dean leaning into the night with arms outstretched, laughing like he was daring the wind to catch him. Sam wonders if Dean would have come back in at all if Sam hadn’t threatened to come out and get him.
“I think I could go higher, maybe.” Too thoughtful, too distant.
Dean’s entranced so Sam looks up, too, invisible stars and a skyline that makes him dizzy, and he doesn’t want to think about Dean that far away. Sam shivers.
“So. You get lucky?”
Quick flash of green eyes, lurking magic that flares once in Dean’s smile before it's just Dean again.
“Always.”
That hurts like fire but Dean's beside him before Sam can move, slipping through the window with eerie, fluid grace, and Sam has to spin to follow him. Dean keeps moving, and Sam almost lets him go, but then it happens again, just like always. Dean’s come back and so has the need, yawning deep and aching, so he reaches out. Hates that he has no choice -- like the poison in Dean’s blood enthralls him, too -- but that doesn't matter when he’s got Dean close again, night air and cool skin that Sam tries to touch enough to close up all the spaces between them.
“Take me with you next time,” a pleading whisper against Dean’s ear and he wishes he could control his voice.
He feels Dean’s breath against his neck, teasing flutter right before the soft brush of his tongue. “Can’t do that, Sam." Dean's voice is soft, regretful. "Not your kind of hunt.” Press of lips over his pulse point, a brief, teasing scrape of teeth and Sam thinks he might pass out. Then Dean’s soft, bitter voice.
“I don’t want you to watch me with someone else.”
Jealousy's going to choke him but he swallows it down, pulls Dean with him instead. Sam’s hopelessly grateful when Dean lets himself fall, lets Sam spread him out across the bed and slide over him.
“I could be enough for you.” Softly spoken into Dean’s mouth with slow licks and flicking touches against Dean’s tongue, mindful of sharp teeth and he hates himself for sounding so desperate.
"Sam..."
"I'd let you," Sam tells him, soft like it's a secret, pushing Dean further into the mattress and sliding down to mouth at Dean's chest through his shirt. "Let you take it from me. Whatever you need."
"I -- I told you why we can't --." Dean's voice is rough but his hands are gentle, threading through Sam's hair, at least until Sam presses his tongue flat against one hard nipple, soaking the cloth so that Dean arches when he blows across it, hands clutching convulsively.
"You and me," Sam whispers, pulling Dean's shirt from his jeans, slow slide of cloth over flawless skin he needs to lick as soon as he can see it. "In this bed. Any bed." Soft kisses over Dean's tight stomach. "Every night..." Runs the tip of his nose up Dean's zipper, then retraces the path with his lips, rough denim instead of the velvet skin he wants but it makes Dean instantly hard.
Dean's hips roll helplessly, one hard thigh coming up like he's trying to give Sam more access but then suddenly Dean's pulling at Sam's shoulders, dragging him up over every inch of Dean's body, and, jesus, that's just as good.
"What are you doing, Sam?" Angry, but broken, like the words are hard to find, so Sam rocks into Dean's body in a slow, writhing motion that makes Dean groan.
"Can’t say you don’t want me, Dean. ‘Cause I can feel it." Hard grind over Dean's hips so Dean can feel how much Sam wants him back. Needs to kiss Dean again, just kiss him, and it’s so fucking good to fall into this. Insistent, relentless rhythm, mindless and liquid, at least until Dean catches Sam’s movement and surges up into him.
“Oh, God…”
Far less controlled now, uneven stutters and Sam puts messy kisses over Dean’s face. He presses his mouth on Dean’s jaw, beneath his ear, gets a jolt straight to his cock when he feels Dean’s lips brush his neck.
“Oh, please, Dean, please. Do it.”
Sudden stillness beneath him before a burst of frightening strength that shoves Sam to his back, leaving him gasping at the ceiling with Dean heavy and hard on top of him, lips against his throat and breathing hard.
“Think I’d risk you? Ever?”
“Please, Dean … for fuck’s sake...”
Maddening tug against his neck, cruel tease that makes him moan, makes him beg some more.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Dean's voice is urgent, and so are his hands, fingers impossibly sure, pulling at Sam's clothes until he finds skin. "You don't know what it's like. All that darkness. Sometimes I think it's going to drown me."
"If I could be with you --" His words are muffled by his shirt as Dean pulls it over his head, dragging his hands over Sam's chest until he shudders.
"What do you think you could do, Sam? Drown with me?"
Naked together now, skin and sweat, Sam's heat enough for both of them, and Dean's almost mauling Sam's neck, sucking bruises into his skin. Painfully sweet but not enough.
"Come on, Dean -- more --."
Sharp teeth just at the edge of pain, pleasure he can almost touch, if Dean would just --
“Inside me -- please.” Begging, begging, and Dean pulls Sam's hips up to give him what he asks for, not the way he wants but still so good he could break in two, so good that Sam can’t argue, can’t think, can’t breathe -- can only gasp and shudder and come.
Panting in the tangled sheets, barely enough light to see Dean's hunted expression.
"I won't make you a monster."
“But I could go with you,” Sam whispers. “And then you’d never have to come back.”
It's just for a second, when Dean glances out the window, just long enough for Sam to see Dean's face, longing for something that isn't in this room. Then Dean curls himself around Sam's body, puts his face against Sam's chest, and Sam can barely feel Dean's breath when he speaks. "Go to sleep, Sam. Don't ask me anymore."
Sam can tell the exact moment when Dean falls asleep, so he pulls Dean close and listens to the city waiting for them outside the window.
Maybe not tonight, Sam thinks.
But every night has secrets and the world is wide, and Sam can find a thousand ways to be lost.
End
Written for
missmollyetc and the love meme. (Not part of the Venom-verse, but vampires nonetheless. heeeeeee!!)Title: A Thousand Ways
Author: Audra Rose
Fandom/Pairing: SPN, Sam/Dean
Summary: Sam loves Dean enough.
Sam leans against the open window and listens to the streetlight flicker, fretful buzzing that bats at his nerves, even from three stories up. Still a lot of traffic on the street below, even this close to midnight. It’s always cities for them, now, places where the lights don’t go out at six p.m. and there are whole populations for Dean to seduce before dawn.
He thinks he should just go out there, too, disappear into the crowds, maybe find a bar. Get drunk, get laid -- do anything but just stand in this hotel room with worry gnawing a hole in his stomach, waiting for Dean to show up with whatever he does at night hidden behind a secret smile. Don’t ask me, Sam, Dean used to say, when Sam was still foolish enough to wonder, and he’d have told Dean to go to hell if he wasn't pretty sure they were both there already.
Fuck.
The street noise drifts up to him and he crosses his arms. In a place like this he could find a thousand ways to be lost, and one night he'll just do it, take off into the city and make Dean see what it's like to wait, to wonder if Sam's coming back at all.
But not tonight.
Sam straightens, takes a closer look at the shadows outside and breathes out in relief. Dean, finally. On the ledge. Sam opens the window as wide as it will go and leans out.
“Dude, someone’s going to call the cops.”
Dean’s unmoving, arms on his knees, a breathing shadow watching the street. He could have been sitting there seconds or hours, Sam has no way of knowing.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tired. Infuriatingly certain.
“No one's going to notice a guy on the ledge?” Frayed nerves make him snap. “You hope people will think you’re a – a gargoyle or something?”
Dean turns his face into the light and Sam thinks of marble angels instead of stone monsters. “Well, if you keep yelling at me out the window, Sam, I'm thinking no.”
Sam leans against the window frame and tries not to feel sullen.
“How do you even get up here from the street?”
Dean shakes his head at the traffic below them. “Not sure. Not exactly, anyway.” He looks up, sculpted profile and long throat Sam wants to trace with his fingertips. “This is nothing. Remember Chicago?”
Sam will never forget Chicago and forty stories up, Dean leaning into the night with arms outstretched, laughing like he was daring the wind to catch him. Sam wonders if Dean would have come back in at all if Sam hadn’t threatened to come out and get him.
“I think I could go higher, maybe.” Too thoughtful, too distant.
Dean’s entranced so Sam looks up, too, invisible stars and a skyline that makes him dizzy, and he doesn’t want to think about Dean that far away. Sam shivers.
“So. You get lucky?”
Quick flash of green eyes, lurking magic that flares once in Dean’s smile before it's just Dean again.
“Always.”
That hurts like fire but Dean's beside him before Sam can move, slipping through the window with eerie, fluid grace, and Sam has to spin to follow him. Dean keeps moving, and Sam almost lets him go, but then it happens again, just like always. Dean’s come back and so has the need, yawning deep and aching, so he reaches out. Hates that he has no choice -- like the poison in Dean’s blood enthralls him, too -- but that doesn't matter when he’s got Dean close again, night air and cool skin that Sam tries to touch enough to close up all the spaces between them.
“Take me with you next time,” a pleading whisper against Dean’s ear and he wishes he could control his voice.
He feels Dean’s breath against his neck, teasing flutter right before the soft brush of his tongue. “Can’t do that, Sam." Dean's voice is soft, regretful. "Not your kind of hunt.” Press of lips over his pulse point, a brief, teasing scrape of teeth and Sam thinks he might pass out. Then Dean’s soft, bitter voice.
“I don’t want you to watch me with someone else.”
Jealousy's going to choke him but he swallows it down, pulls Dean with him instead. Sam’s hopelessly grateful when Dean lets himself fall, lets Sam spread him out across the bed and slide over him.
“I could be enough for you.” Softly spoken into Dean’s mouth with slow licks and flicking touches against Dean’s tongue, mindful of sharp teeth and he hates himself for sounding so desperate.
"Sam..."
"I'd let you," Sam tells him, soft like it's a secret, pushing Dean further into the mattress and sliding down to mouth at Dean's chest through his shirt. "Let you take it from me. Whatever you need."
"I -- I told you why we can't --." Dean's voice is rough but his hands are gentle, threading through Sam's hair, at least until Sam presses his tongue flat against one hard nipple, soaking the cloth so that Dean arches when he blows across it, hands clutching convulsively.
"You and me," Sam whispers, pulling Dean's shirt from his jeans, slow slide of cloth over flawless skin he needs to lick as soon as he can see it. "In this bed. Any bed." Soft kisses over Dean's tight stomach. "Every night..." Runs the tip of his nose up Dean's zipper, then retraces the path with his lips, rough denim instead of the velvet skin he wants but it makes Dean instantly hard.
Dean's hips roll helplessly, one hard thigh coming up like he's trying to give Sam more access but then suddenly Dean's pulling at Sam's shoulders, dragging him up over every inch of Dean's body, and, jesus, that's just as good.
"What are you doing, Sam?" Angry, but broken, like the words are hard to find, so Sam rocks into Dean's body in a slow, writhing motion that makes Dean groan.
"Can’t say you don’t want me, Dean. ‘Cause I can feel it." Hard grind over Dean's hips so Dean can feel how much Sam wants him back. Needs to kiss Dean again, just kiss him, and it’s so fucking good to fall into this. Insistent, relentless rhythm, mindless and liquid, at least until Dean catches Sam’s movement and surges up into him.
“Oh, God…”
Far less controlled now, uneven stutters and Sam puts messy kisses over Dean’s face. He presses his mouth on Dean’s jaw, beneath his ear, gets a jolt straight to his cock when he feels Dean’s lips brush his neck.
“Oh, please, Dean, please. Do it.”
Sudden stillness beneath him before a burst of frightening strength that shoves Sam to his back, leaving him gasping at the ceiling with Dean heavy and hard on top of him, lips against his throat and breathing hard.
“Think I’d risk you? Ever?”
“Please, Dean … for fuck’s sake...”
Maddening tug against his neck, cruel tease that makes him moan, makes him beg some more.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Dean's voice is urgent, and so are his hands, fingers impossibly sure, pulling at Sam's clothes until he finds skin. "You don't know what it's like. All that darkness. Sometimes I think it's going to drown me."
"If I could be with you --" His words are muffled by his shirt as Dean pulls it over his head, dragging his hands over Sam's chest until he shudders.
"What do you think you could do, Sam? Drown with me?"
Naked together now, skin and sweat, Sam's heat enough for both of them, and Dean's almost mauling Sam's neck, sucking bruises into his skin. Painfully sweet but not enough.
"Come on, Dean -- more --."
Sharp teeth just at the edge of pain, pleasure he can almost touch, if Dean would just --
“Inside me -- please.” Begging, begging, and Dean pulls Sam's hips up to give him what he asks for, not the way he wants but still so good he could break in two, so good that Sam can’t argue, can’t think, can’t breathe -- can only gasp and shudder and come.
Panting in the tangled sheets, barely enough light to see Dean's hunted expression.
"I won't make you a monster."
“But I could go with you,” Sam whispers. “And then you’d never have to come back.”
It's just for a second, when Dean glances out the window, just long enough for Sam to see Dean's face, longing for something that isn't in this room. Then Dean curls himself around Sam's body, puts his face against Sam's chest, and Sam can barely feel Dean's breath when he speaks. "Go to sleep, Sam. Don't ask me anymore."
Sam can tell the exact moment when Dean falls asleep, so he pulls Dean close and listens to the city waiting for them outside the window.
Maybe not tonight, Sam thinks.
But every night has secrets and the world is wide, and Sam can find a thousand ways to be lost.
End
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