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smalltrolven

The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time


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smalltrolven

fic: Hatbox (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 3 of 3

Part Two
~*~

Sam got two of the showers going to warm up the room and turned back to see Dean fussing with his hair in the mirror.

“Looks like two hedgehogs set up a homestead,” Dean said with a scowl to Sam’s reflection.


Sam grinned and ran his hands through Dean’s hair, spiking it out in all directions.

“That is a serious case of hat-head,” Sam said.

“Hey, it’s been a few days, I was cursed, remember?”

“Oh I do remember, believe me. That’s why we’re going to get you clean now,” Sam said, reaching past Dean to the medicine cabinet shelves, pulling out a small glass bottle with a hand-written label.

“What is that?” Dean asked, taking off the clothes he’d been wearing for those long days of being cursed.

“It’s basically a post-curse shower gel. I found the recipe for it in the footnotes of the book that had the curse-breaking spell I just used on you. Supposed to make sure there’s no ‘tendrils of incipient doom’ left behind.”

“So you had time to mix up some shower gel, find the spell to save me and the ingredients to work it while I was making steaks?”

“Now that I’ve got everything organized in here, yeah pretty much,” Sam said, shaking the bottle and holding it up to the light. There was a gold-green sparkle that flittered through the substance as he turned it. He set the bottle down on the sink and began to disrobe.

Dean’s stomach grumbled loudly after he’d reminded himself about the steaks left in the kitchen. He watched Sam’s skin emerge from all the layers and was reminded of just how much he’d been wanting Sam the last few days. The curse had gotten in the way of that, but now it was gone.

“Don’t worry about the steaks, I finished cooking them, they’re in the fridge, we’ll reheat them after we get cleaned up,” Sam assured him, guiding him towards the shower, now gloriously and totally naked. All that warm skin brushing up against him, Sam’s hardness pressing at his lower back as they entered the shower stall together all wound up together.

Dean adjusted the temperature and ducked his head under the water, it seemed to not be penetrating all the way down to his scalp. Sam’s hands landed in his hair and began massaging in some of the shower gel stuff and suddenly he could feel a layer of something that had been left behind slither away. It almost felt like a layer coming off the edge of his brain. He shook his head to dislodge it and Sam squawked behind him.

Dean spun and caught him before he could fall. Their bodies slid and slipped in the water with all the shower gel suds rising up wherever they touched. “You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, guess it’s working, huh?” Sam asked, blinking at him through his curtain of wet hair.

“There was something left behind, felt like it peeled off my brain, ’s why I shook my head like that,” Dean said.

“And here I thought you just didn’t want me washing your hair,” Sam said.


Dean pulled him in close, slotting their bodies together so that there would be no further doubts coming from Sam. He leaned up and kissed Sam under the pouring water, the shower gel now washed away leaving him feeling something beyond clean. Cleansed he supposed, but that didn’t matter now. Not when Sam was kissing him back with all the passion left from the last few days, bottled up and stored waiting to be released when he was finally himself again.

Sam’s hips began to thrust against him in that insistent rhythm that Dean could never ignore. “Think that shower gel stuff would work for…?” He waggled his eyebrows until Sam grinned and handed him the bottle after pouring a measure out into his palm.

Dean watched as Sam reached around behind himself, spreading his legs and moving his fingers in and out, getting himself opened up and ready. The feel of the coldness of the bottle of magical shower gel the only thing that kept him grounded. He poured some out in his palm and copied Sam, pushing the gel into himself, spreading it along his inner walls, scissoring his fingers in time with the movements of Sam’s arm. He hadn’t been this open, or this hard in a long time. Sam turned and grabbed onto the sturdy railing presenting himself for Dean’s use. He spread his legs wide so that he’d be at the perfect height for Dean to just step between them and press himself in and in and ahhh finally.

That’s exactly what he’d needed. Dean could feel the shower gel that was coating his skin warming up quickly with the friction, and sinking into the sensitive skin. It seemed to heighten the pleasure, like one of those ‘intimate gels’ you could buy in the condom aisle in the drugstore. He wondered if Sam was feeling it too.

“Can you feel it, Sammy?” He managed to ask in-between the thrusts that he didn’t think he could keep up for long.

“Uh huh, want to feel it, Dean, when you fill me up,” Sam groaned, pressing back into Dean’s thrusts going up on his tiptoes to take Dean in even deeper.

Dean went wild with that idea, thrusting hard and fast, events a blur from there, he felt himself emptying out, deep inside Sam, but then Sam was in him, and he was getting fucked within an inch of his life, Sam frantic behind him. “C’mon, Sammy, give it to me,” he said, circling his hips just to feel his brother’s reaction.

Sam held onto his hips even tighter, gone past bruise-tight and double thrusted one last time, coming hot and hard deep inside Dean. The same events-blurring thing happened and he was inside of Sam, still hard and wanting himself, somehow on the edge of coming again. He gripped Sam’s hips in the usual place, pressing his fingers in deep to leave his mark and gave into the pleasure.

“Again, I’m comin’ again, get ready,” Dean said, vaguely wondering if this was a new curse as he lost himself in the bliss. There wasn’t another blur, that seemed to be it, the tingle and strange color from the shower gel washing away down the drain.

“I’m not gonna ask what’s in that stuff, but I think you ought to make us some more, maybe put it in one of the wall dispensers,” Dean suggested as Sam’s hands roamed lazily around the new bruises on his hips. Dean touched the matching ones on Sam’s hips and nuzzled into the wet crevice of Sam’s neck and shoulder.

“You all clean now?” Sam asked after a few long minutes holding each other under the hot spray.

Dean leaned back and rinsed his hair in the water one last time and grinned up at his brother. “Yeah, and ready for those steaks.”

***

“Think Jack is gonna be okay?” Dean asked as they both settled down in his bed, tucking under the covers, clean, warm, full of steak. He felt full of Sam too, thoroughly satisfied, especially to not be wearing any western gear.

“I do, yeah, eventually. I mean, between what he saw in the motel room and killing a human he’s got a lot to process, but he’s a smart kid, we’ve gotten him off to a good start,” Sam said, looking at him across the pillows.

“I couldn’t help it, that room was so cool, those swinging saloon doors, the whole thing,” Dean said, knowing it was a weak excuse for possibly screwing up the kid when he was still so young.

“We can go back sometime if you want to stay there, I wouldn’t mind finishing what we were interrupted doing, but I’m definitely buying you a brand-new hatbox,” Sam said with one of those one-sided grins that promised a whole lot more than some new luggage.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dean murmured as he kissed his way up the strong column of Sam’s neck.

The End

(Beliked means beloved)

~*~