( text ) chapter three: it was the heat of the moment

[samlicker81]

[ how about let's not talk about that dream. that sounds like a really good idea, even if becky is pretty curious about it, if not a little scared. she knows she's in good hands, what with the winchesters around, so, you know, how about instead she just shares a little something of her own with everyone. she's been doing a lot of writing over the past few months, after all, and it's about time she posted some of it for everyone to R&R. it's a little taste of home for her and hopefully a lot of other people in wonderland; she couldn't actually bring herself to write about anyone ... in wonderland. that's sort of crossing the line into rpf and while writing about sam and dean isn't really technically fanfiction anymore, she can at least pretend it is if she sets it in some alternate version of home. ]

Title: All I Want For Christmas Is You
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13, for implied sexual themes.
Summary: How "A Very Supernatural Christmas" should have ended.

The ground outside was covered in a light dust of snow. It crunched beneath Dean's boots as he stepped out of his car. The Impala was parked outside a motel room, room number twelve. Inside, Dean could see Sam moving, but he didn't pay much attention to that as he shut the door to the Impala with his hip. Beer and a convenience store bag in hand, Dean sauntered toward the cabin, his heavy footfalls leaving a trail of footprints in the snow.

"Hey, you get the beer?" Sam said cheerfully, holding up a plastic cup of eggnog. Dean thought maybe his little brother had had too much of it already by the looks of things. The room wasn't as bare as he left it. There was a tree in the corner by the TV and a sign on the wall that read "Merry Christmas."

"What's all this?" Dean asked, surprised by festive decorations. He set down his stuff on the table in front of the couch as he took in the sights.

"What do you think it is?" Sam looked at his brother expectantly. "It's — it's Christmas."

Dean nodded approvingly. "What made you change your mind?"

Sam didn't answer. "Here," he said, bending down to hand Dean a cup of eggnog. "Try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick."

Dean took a sip. It definitely didn't need anymore kick. It could actually use less kick. Or no kick at all. "No, we're good." More like, Jesus Sammy what did you put in this?

"Yeah?" Sam laughed.

"Yeah," Dean laughed back, nodding insistently.

"Good. Well, uh, have a seat. Let's do ... Christmas stuff or whatever."

Dean stole a glance at the Christmas tree decorated with a few lights and car air fresheners and then sat in the chair by the couch where Sam sat with a smile on his face. "Alright, first things first," he said. He grabbed two packages wrapped in brown paper from the plastic convenience store bag and handed them to Sam. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

Sam smiled and reached out for the packages. "Where'd you get these?"

Dean shrugged, taking off his father's leather jacket. "Someplace special." Sam raised his eyebrows. "The gas mart down the street," he admitted and Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Open them up."

"Well, great minds think alike, Dean," Sam said, reaching under the couch to pull out packages of his own.

"Really?" Dean sounded surprised, but took the gifts from his brother.

"There you go."

"Come on," Dean said bashfully.

Sam opened the first one with a laugh. "Skin mags!" Dean nodded in approval, looking proud of himself. "And..." Sam opened the other gift, revealing a bottle of shaving cream. "Shaving cream!" He was still laughing. The gifts were very Dean. They were at least endearing if not practical.

"You like?" Dean asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "Yeah."

That was Dean's cue to open his gifts, and he wasn't disappointed with what he got. "Look at this," he said, holding up a bottle of oil along with a candy bar. "Fuel for me and fuel for my baby." Sam nodded, pleased. "These are awesome. Thanks."

"Good," Sam said, though his expression seemed to drop like something was bothering him. If there was, Dean didn't notice or pretended not to. Neither of them wanted to ruin the moment.

"Merry Christmas, bro," Dean said, lifting his cup of eggnog for a toast.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Yeah." He lifted his cup and knocks it against his brother's. "Merry Christmas."

After they both took swigs from their plastic cups, a silence fell over them then. They both knew this could be it. This could be their last Christmas together. Sam looked at his brother sadly as the other man took another sip of his eggnog. Sam could tell Dean was just drinking it to humor him. It did taste pretty bad, he'd admit. That's what happens when the only liquor left is whiskey instead of bourbon. But the eggnog was the least of their worries. Dean sold his soul for Sam. He was going to Hell for it and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it. They both knew that, even though both of them refused to believe it.

"Hey, Dean, I —" Sam started, but he didn't really know how to say what he wanted to say. He'd been thinking about it a lot recently. How to tell Dean how he felt.

Dean glanced over at him, waiting for him to continue. Sam hesitated, looking away. He couldn't say it. He couldn't do it. Could he? This was his brother — this was Dean — and that was the biggest problem. But ... if he didn't do it now, would he ever have the chance again? Even if he regretted it later, he would regret it more if he didn't do anything. "There's one other thing," he finally said, looking back at his brother, into those familiar green eyes that shined just as brightly as the lights on the Christmas tree. He scooted closer to Dean.

"Yeah?" Dean said, curious and a little nervous by the way Sam was looking at him like he wanted to kiss him.

Sam did kiss him.

Dean wasn't sure what to do at first. This was Sammy, his little brother, and he knew it was wrong. But as wrong as it was, it felt so right. "Sammy, hey," he said, pulling away. He didn't want to, but he had to. "I think you've had a little too much eggnog."

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam insisted. His face was still close. He could see every freckle that dotted his brother's cheeks like stars in the night sky. "I want this." He lifted his hand to rest against Dean's neck. "I want you."

Dean stared at his brother. Sam's eyes were sad, pleading. Dean knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to. "In case I don't make it back," he said softly, and Sam knew what he meant. In case Sam couldn't find a way to bust him out of Hell.

"Dean, don't," Sam started. Don't bring that up.

But Dean didn't let him finish, leaning forward to continue what Sam had started. If this was going to be their last Christmas together, he wanted to make it count.

Sam moaned softly into his brother's mouth.

Dean reached out for Sam's hand, pulling him from the couch as he stood. "Come on," he said, stepping backward and leading them to one of the beds. "You said you want this."

"I do," Sam replied breathily. He felt like he was in a daze. Was this actually happening? Maybe he had had too much eggnog. But Dean wanted this, too. That was enough for Sam. He pulled his hand out of his brother's grip and captured the other man's face in his hands, drawing him in for another kiss as they fell backwards onto the bed. "I love you, Dean."

"I know, Sammy."

[ the next part she cut into a separate entry because she couldn't decide if she actually wanted to post it or not. but, you know, wonderland will have none of that. and neither will i. so, of course, by some inexplicable wonderland magic, it posted itself. so here is the thrilling and explicit conclusion! ]

Sam's hands fumbled with Dean's belt while Dean worked at removing his shirts. It was difficult with Sam on top of him, their mouths bumping together clumsily as Dean shifted and arched beneath Sam to rid himself of the unwanted clothing. Sam removed his own shirt and stared at his brother's bare, muscular chest.

Despite the cold outside, the room was warm with the heat between them. Sam wiggled out of his jeans along with his boxers and kicked them off the bed before he reached down and tugged his brother's off. Dean's leg rubbed against his cock as the other man shifted to kick the rest of his clothing away. Sam let out a grunt of pleasure and dipped forward to muffle any other sounds in Dean's mouth. He rolled his hips into Dean's, who groaned and bit at Sam's lower lip in return.

Dean grabbed at his brother's bare ass, trying to direct the movement of Sam's hips against his. "That's it, Sammy," he breathed. "Just like that."

Sam's hips followed Dean's guidance, but instead of opening his mouth to Dean's to deepen the kiss, Sam moved to press his mouth against Dean's neck. Even though this was their first time doing anything this intimate, Sam knew Dean's neck was sensitive. His breath was hot against Dean's skin as he sucked at it. Dean's fingers dug harder into Sam's ass at the sensation, like he was trying to claw his way under the skin of Sam's well-toned and muscular body.

"Touch me, Dean," Sam whispered in Dean's ear. "Or are you afraid to get your hands dirty?" Sam knew he wasn't. It was a challenge he knew Dean would accept. He wanted Dean to touch him everywhere, but most of all he wanted Dean's fingers inside him and working him open.

Dean grunted indignantly, but removed one of his hands from Sam's ass and brought it to his mouth. He sucked on two of his fingers, leaving them wet with his own saliva, while Sam continued to suck at his neck. With his other hand, he kneaded his fingers against the curve of Sam's ass.

Sam's breath hitched and he nearly bit Dean to muffle the moan escaping from his lips when Dean's fingers entered him.

"Jesus, Sammy, relax," Dean said, his other hand resting at the small of his brother's back comfortingly. "You're so tight." Sam usually was, but Dean wasn't trying to insult him this time.

"Yeah," Sam breathed, burying his face in Dean's shoulder, clinging almost desperately to Dean's hip. "Okay." His hips continued to move against Dean's, slower now while Dean's fingers slid in and out of his entrance.

"There you go," Dean said reassuringly. "Relax. Relax."

Sam wasn't sure if he was breathing anymore, too consumed with the feel of his brother's fingers inside of him and wondering what it must feel like if all of Dean were inside of him. It was almost enough to make him come right then. But his other hand rested against Dean's chest. Their hearts beat as one.

"Dean," he finally said after what seemed like forever. "I want all of you." Grinding himself on his brother's cock and fucking himself on his fingers just wasn't enough.

"Alright, Sammy, alright," Dean said. His voice sounded far away, even to him. He was already getting lost in Sam's heat. He wasn't sure he could handle any more. But Sam wanted it ... and Dean wanted it too.

Sam pushed himself back onto his knees, both of his hands laying flat on Dean's chest now. His heart was pounding hard against his chest. His fingers curled in on themselves as Dean removed his fingers. He lifted his hips to align himself with Dean, staring determinedly at his brother the whole time.

Dean kept one hand on Sam's hips while the other moved to his cock to help position for Sam. He was already so hard. Both of them were. It wouldn't be long before they both came. "Alright, nice and easy, Sammy."

Sam nodded and shifted his hips backward. His nails dug into Dean's chest, his breathing shallow as he sunk further down onto his brother's hard member. Dean moaned and arched into Sam, his hands burying themselves in Sam's hair now that Sam was as far as he could go. He brought his brother's face to his again. Sam's eyes were squeezed shut and his brows were furrowed, but his expression relaxed under Dean's kiss and the hands on Dean's chest uncurled themselves slowly as Sam began to move his hips back and forth again.

"Fuck me," Dean breathed against Sam's mouth. Sam's movements quickened and dragging his fingers through Sam's hair was all Dean could do to stop himself from coming right then. "Fuck, Sam."

"God, Dean," Sam replied, nearly out of breath. He was so close. They both were. He could feel it. He could feel everything. Dean was part of him now more than ever and he never wanted it to end. "I'm gonna — ngh — Dean —" He gasped against Dean's mouth and his nails dug into his brother's chest again as he rode out his waves of pleasure. He almost wanted to cry, out of happiness and sorrow. He felt both in this moment, even as one of Dean's hands moved to frantically grab at his ass again, his brother's nails leaving red streaks on his skin.

"Fuck," Dean said. "Fuck, don't stop, Sam."

Sam didn't stop. He couldn't. He never wanted to. Not when this might be one of the last best moments he'd have with his brother. They wouldn't be the same after this, but Sam didn't care, and he hoped neither did Dean. But even kissing Dean didn't help the feeling that they might never do this again. That Sam might be without a brother at all soon.

"Nngh, Sam," Dean groaned, arching up into Sam and clawing at every part of him he had a hold of, and Sam knew it was over. This was it. His hips slowed as Dean began to relax, pressing sloppy kisses to Sam's mouth like he was drunk. "Fuck." Dean's breathing was heavy. Sam found some comfort in being able to breathe with him. They were two parts of a whole now.

But even still, Sam could barely look at him as he pulled out and rolled over without a word.

Dean knew something was wrong. Call it brotherly instinct. "Hey," he said hesitantly, scooting up behind Sam.

"Don't," Sam said tiredly. He didn't want to talk about it. "Let's just go to sleep, Dean."

Dean could have argued, but he didn't. He knew what was eating at Sam. It was eating at him, too. "Yeah, okay," he said. "We could both use a good night's rest."

Curled up in each other's arms, it was the last good night's rest either of them got.

[ shortly after this very angry conversation with sam the whole fanfic has been deleted from the network and in its place is: ]

MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES TO SAM AND DEAN WINCHESTER PLEASE DON'T KILL ME