In the Stillness::Sam/Jessica, Sam/Dean::18+

Title: In the Stillness
Author: Amiss
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: I don't own anything outright, much less these guys.
Summary: Sometimes, Sam has a hard time being sure who he's with.
Spoilers: No.
Pairings: Sam/Jessica, Sam/Dean
Warnings: Smut, incest.
Note: All feedback and concrit is welcome and appreciated. robanybodybeta'd it, and she rocks.



Sometimes, it happens like this.

+

Jessica’s skin is warm, soft, and the sleepy-sex smell of her as Sam moves his mouth along the dip that marks her spine is the only thing in the world, all that matters. She’s starting to wake as he reaches her thigh, that small sound coming from her throat as she rolls to her back and Sam slides under her leg, presses his mouth to her sex. The sound has become a moan and he can feel her nails in his hair, the rise of her hips to meet his mouth and he closes his eyes, just breathes until the moan becomes urgent.

He’s licking again now, sliding fingers into wet warmth and his hips are moving against the bed, rubbing as she tenses and then she’s still, a moment of holding and waiting and there, right *there* until she calls his name and pushes over, tension and flexion, hold and release.

“Sam…”

He rests his head against her thigh, and he can feel the muscles there still trembling as her hand moves through his hair; he’s sweaty and flushed and still so fucking hard. Her hand begins to push at his shoulder, wordless urging and he’s happy to oblige, pushing up to cover her and nudging his way inside, teeth sinking into his own lip as she takes him in. His breath catches as she shoves her hips up hard, harder, meeting him and crying out his name, more and harder and more until he can’t control himself, almost and so close…

He’s so close.

“Sammy, c’mon.”

Sam moans, turns to his stomach and pushes against the bed, almost awake now. He’s not warm anymore; the bed’s not the one that he and Jess laughed their way through buying and broke in pretty much every night for a week, until she finally said they were both going to break something important if Sam didn’t learn how to keep his hands off of her, and he laughed and took her to bed again and she laughed and let him.

“Sam.”

He aches, and it’s cold because it’s another motel room and the heater doesn’t work, and it’s Dean’s hand rough on his back, Dean’s voice as hesitant as Sam ever hears it, and his life hits him in the face again as the last shreds of the dream break apart, like losing Jessica for the first time again.

“Sammy, let me…”

Dean’s clumsy like only an older brother can be as he rolls Sam to him, tugs him close. “I can help,” he says, voice as rough as the scratch of stubble on Sam’s chest as Dean’s body moves lower, warming him and if Sam doesn’t open his eyes, he knows Dean will forgive him. He tried to stop this the first time, and the second, but when he’s honest he knows that he didn’t try very hard, really, because Dean’s warm and he loves him and Sam’s always so fucking cold lately.

When he comes, Sam bites his lip because he’s not sure what name he’ll say, and he’s not sure which would hurt them worse.

+

Sometimes, it happens like this.

-end