One Million Tuesdays Ago.
What can I say about this? Well, one, You must watch episode 11 season three, the mystery spot to understand it, or watch groundhog day. And two, I don't own Supernatural or the Winchesters, but I would very gladly lick sweat off their- *clears throat* Ahem… anyway. Warnings for Wincest and OOCness of Sam. Spoilers for part of the above episode, but nothing canon occurs in story other than the day beginning events. Spoiler for Beginning of season four, but not by much. Language.
Sam sighed. There were many things that thinking about would drive people crazy, in this profession. His eyes cut to Ruby's new body with a disgusted sigh. The blonde was so much more attractive… He had had a thing for blondes, anyway. After the fifth time he shifted in his bed, he finally eased out of the girl's grasp and out of bed. He didn't like the host body's personality, either, She was far too clingy for his taste, but then again, she had been a virgin before Sam. Just about the only thing he liked was the way her voice sounded when Ruby probably faked orgasms for him. He opened the bottle of orange juice and ignored the buzzing sound of his phone. Dean had been dead three weeks, and there wasn't anyone else he wanted to talk to. He glanced at the caller Id anyway. Not even Bobby Singer, He thought, as he drank straight from the carton. He wasn't even startled when he shut the fridge door and she was standing behind it. He didn't say anything, but her voice caressed his ear when she wound her arms around his waist.
"Thinking about Dean again?" she asked, stroking his hair. "If you had just listened to me…" she murmured softly, but didn't continue, not willing to get into an argument that would have Sam choking her and then likely fucking her up against the fridge.
"I'm listening to you now, aren't I?" he answered and shook his head. "I'm thinking about a Tuesday." He said softly, leaving Ruby puzzled.
Fight me, because, the world is going to end
Fight me, because, I don't know where to begin
Fight me, and let me wash off the night
Fight me, and help me bathe in the light.
Sam bit his lower lip, his heart throbbing in his chest as he woke to Asia yet again. "Rise and Shine, Sammie!" Dean said chipperly, tying his bootlaces as Sam just stared at him, his eyes wide and startled. When Sam didn't say anything, Dean chuckled, saying, "You love this song and you know it." Sam rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, and if you turn it up, I'm going to deck you." Dean made a face at him and turned it up anyway; pointing at his younger brother and bobbing his head to the music.
"What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you!" he was completely unsuspecting as Sam dove from his bed and tackled him onto it as soon as he stood up to go to the bathroom. He decked him several times before Dean was able to force his way free, grabbing his flask as he rolled backwards, landing on his feet, on the other side of the bed.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sammie, Take it easy!" He barked, working around the bed carefully as Sam was still half sprawled on it, tangled by dean on the sheets, looking very, very angry, and very, very aroused, the tip peeking out of the top of his pajama pants. Dean winced and snapped his eyes away. "Shit man, could you save the beating on me until after you've finished off your morning wood?" Sam snarled, trying to work his way free.
"Maybe if I just kill you myself, it'll be over with!" He shouted, stopping mid tackle when Dean splashed him in the face with holy water. Sam stared at him incredulously. "Holy water? Dean, I'm not-" Dean took the opportunity to crack him back one in the face, sending Sam sprawling back on the bed. Sam grabbed the radio and yanked it out of the wall, chucking it at his brother. Dean deflected it with his forearm and stepped forward.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Sam!" Dean demanded. He slipped in the puddle and just barely caught his footing, only to be tangled up in the cast aside sheets and fall. Sam woke to Asia once again.
Lose me, and, I'm gone forever.
Lose me, and, you will always say never
Lose me, and, I'm truly gone
Lose me, and, I won't be there in the morn.
Sam slapped the radio off the nightstand, breaking it and yanking it free from the wall in one motion. Dean watched the radio strike the opposite wall with a startled look on his face. "Shit, Sam-"
"I HATE ASIA!" Sam shouted at him. "I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT!" Dean flinched, his hands up in the air.
"Alright, alright." Dean said soothingly. "No more Asia. What's got you all riled up this morning?"
"I HATE THIS! I HATE TRYING TO SAVE YOU; I HATE YOU!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Sam wouldn't ever forget the stunned look on his brother's face, but he just couldn't get his mouth to shut up. "I hate everything about you," It continued venomously. "Your dedication to dad's stupid rules, the annoying way you sing along to songs, which you suck at, by the way, the way you act like you don't care that you're losing a chunk of your life for me! I hate the way you dress, the fact that you suck at staying in character when we're on cases, your murderous bloodlust for all things demonic? The way I always have to follow along behind you like a good little puppy! How you ripped me out of my life, out of my home?"He said, waiting for Dean to deck him in the face or berate him, breathing hard. But Dean… Dean, he just sighed forgivingly, and with a forlorn smile, sighed, and picked up his things.
"Obviously you need to cool off." Dean said, that stricken, shocked look still in his eyes. "I'll see you later." But Sam knew. He knew if this was the last Tuesday, he would never see his brother again. He would rather live in a world where Dean was dead than one where Dean though he hated him.
"Dean… Dean wait…" He said breathlessly, but Dean gave him a fake smile at the doorway.
"You stay here. I'll go get us some breakfast." He lied. Sam did the only thing he could think of. He shoved his brother down the stairs and shut his eyes tight, waiting for Asia. There was a sickening thud, and the betrayed sound of his brother's voice, weakly calling out that hated nickname in shock and disbelief. He didn't look, running back into the motel room, crying his eyes out and hiding under the blankets like a lost child. He heard the gunshot of Dean's suicide before he woke up again to Asia.
Love me, because, I'm dying inside
Love me, there's, just too much to hide
Love me, even if I'll never say why
Love me, because, I'm going to die.
Sam didn't let Dean talk. Instead, he just dove across the bed and tackled him. He wrapped his arms around him in a hug and cried ridiculously. After a moment of awkwardness, Dean's brotherly instincts kicked in, and he hugged his brother tightly until the hiccupping sobs slowed to just sniffles.
"I'm sorry I'm a terrible brother." Sam blurted, and Dean blinked, making a face, before grabbing Sam's face and forcing him to look up at him.
"You're not a bad brother." Dean said, looking at him. "Is that what this is about? Because you think you're a-" he didn't even seem to be able to make himself say it. He floundered for words for a minute, before wrenching Sam's face back up to his after Sam had looked away. "You've pulled my fat out of the fire thousands of times. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you, no doubt, a hundred times by now. We'll beat this deal, you'll see. We have to." Sam wiped his eyes and Dean ruffled his hair. "Go wash up. You ruined my shirt with your chick-flick moment." He added after a second, starting to strip out of the navy blue over shirt. Shirtless, Dean walked into the bathroom as Sam was brushing his teeth. "Bitch." Sam spit out a mouthful of foam.
"Jerk…" Sam said with a hint of a smile. Finally, Sam sat him down again at the small table in the room, ignoring his protests for food, with a dismissive wave of his hand, tossing him a stick of beef jerky from Dean's stash.
"So you've been watching me die over and over?" Dean asked rhetorically. "and then you snapped and yelled at me." Sam just nodded, staring at his hands, so he missed his brother's half-shrug. "Understandable. You've had a hard few Tuesdays." He said, elbows on his knees as he looked over at him. Sam looked up to see Dean's face, inches from his own.
"Maybe I just have to experience every possible Tuesday." His hands reached out and he kissed his brother fervently. Dean's protests were drowned out by the pressure of his brother on top of him, pinning him to the chair. Dean struggled, biting at his brother's lips, but that only seemed to arouse him, making him kiss harder. Despite himself, Dean's submitted to the kiss, before kissing back as demandingly as he, hoping that giving in would make it go by faster. "You're crazy..." Dean gasped out once his mouth was released. "Watching me die-" he gasped as a throbbing hardness was ground against his stomach. Only then did he realize Sam had tapped into one of his body's few unfulfilled kinks. At least, that's what he told himself, justifying his own hardness through desperate logic. But his mind continued on its own. He would never trust anyone but Sam to tie him down, after all. Logically, that meant- Dean wrenched his mind away from that train of thought. "-Over and over's made you crazy, Sam." Sam's eyes were dark, murky with the haze of desire and sex, overwhelmed by the wrongness of it that felt so right… And if that wasn't a cliché, he didn't know what was. He murmured down at his brother as his fingers gripped his arms to the chair tighter.
"I wanna fuck you." He says it low, and quick, and Dean's not sure he heard him correctly, but he can't afford to be wrong, not now. The way that Sam's grinding into him is distracting, and he'd never thought a man could make his mind haze like this, no woman ever did. He was breathing heavy, his mind clouded by his brother in a way that it should never be. And that's what he blamed the desperate voice that slipped from his lips on.
"Please…" Dean murmured, and both are shocked that the word came from his lips, but more surprised is Dean at the lascivious way Sam licked his lips and the way it made his cock twitch. It's hard to tell who is more surprised. But without letting go of his wrists, he slid down the length of Dean's body and threw him on the bed, all momentum. Dean jerked up and swung, only to be caught by Sam. The younger of the two grasped that wrist firmly and jerked him around, grabbing his other arm and bending him over the bed. Dean gasped at the forceful strength in his brother's hands, the way that Sam held on tight to his wrists and bent him over sharply, holding him down with one hand, made him hotter than words. "Bi-" he can't finish the insult with his pants dropped down around his ankles and fingers probing his ass. He'd always thought he'd never do anything like this. But his breath hitches considerably when Sam leans down and kisses his ass. It makes him jerk, hard, never having known he was so sensitive there. He jumped when Sam's tongue touched to his puckered asshole, unable to form words to protest the beautiful intrusion. His tongue dove deep, his fingers deeper, and Dean barely remembered himself enough to keep the whimpering mewls of lust and pleasure in his head where they belonged, though a wayward one would escape every now and again, making him blush.
"Jerk." Sam teased, his breathing heavy. His hand still held the other down tightly, and Dean still half-heartedly struggled, until he felt the pierce, and Sam rode in, full length, in one stroke. The pain was searing and fresh, but not as much as he'd expected.
What he didn't know, couldn't know, was that Sammie had lubricated himself with Dean's hand lotion while he was rimming the shorter man. And even though all this was strange and unfamiliar, even though he knew he was about as far away from his sexual experiences as he could get, he was still relaxed, even there. Trust was the word that coated Sam's face in a smile as he finally let go of Dean's hands to apply an almost crushing pressure to his hips, holding him still. Dean was still gasping for air, and as soon as his hands were released, they were bound up together again, Dean clasping either elbow behind his back, gritting his teeth, trying to steady his breathing.
"Aren't you supposed to be moving, Damnit?" Dean demanded through gritted teeth, and Sam flexed in response, watching Dean's reaction. Dean groaned slightly, still painfully, achingly hard.
"I'm letting you adjust."
"JUST FUCKING MOVE ALREADY!" Sam smiled at Dean's impatience. Why not? It wasn't like Dean would be able to see it. He slowly started thrusting, and groaned slightly, biting back the full moan. This was so different from women. After another shuddering gasp a minute later, Dean muttered "Make noise, would you?"
Sam could not figure out how he died, that time. He'd just told him to make noise, and suddenly Sam woke up To Asia.
Break me, because you're angry with me
Break me, because you know how to be
Break me, if you know what's right
Break me, because I'll no longer fight.
Pinning Dean up to a wall was no easy feat, unless you were Sam Winchester. Because then you would know exactly what to say to get Dean to stop struggling.
"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER!" That usually worked. This time, predictably, Sam received an incredulous look.
"Because I'm jamming out to Asia? Sammie, Get off me." Dean said, starting to try to shove him off. Sam grabbed his wrists in one hand and slammed them both over his head, his free hand pinning a knife to his brother's neck carefully, letting the feel of steel be a deterrent without letting Dean notice it was only the back of the blade pressed to his skin.
"Are you getting off on this?" he asked demandingly, his eyes cold and unreadable. Dean gulped, realizing the uncharacteristic rise in his pants from a situation like this would not make his point go well. He jerked his eyes from where their bodies were joined up to Sam's mouth, which was now sneering. "You're not my brother. My brother doesn't want to fuck me."
"Sam, I-" he shuddered hard when Sam leaned down and whispered in his ear,
"My brother wants me to fuck him." He said. Dean immediately started struggling again, before the cold press of steel made him gulp slightly. Dean hadn't worked in this profession too long to be able to recognize the glint of cold insanity in a human's eyes, and it was there, in Sam's. "My brother likes the feeling of being tied down-but he can't trust anyone but me to do it." He murmured, wasting time. "He loves it when I moan for him-He sits down at the bathroom door when I masturbate and listens in, imagining He's making me do it-" Dean's eyes widened. He had only done that once- Well, okay, twice- but there was no was Sam could have known that! The knife embedded into the wall next to his head. "Consequence-free, Dean…" Dean realized with a start that it had all been a test, watching his reactions to see if his guesses were right. Sam let his eyes close and Dean faced a dilemma. The hand at his wrist was slackening, and he could push this insane version of his brother away and possibly even strap him down until he could get some help, or give in to his desires, press his mouth to those lips he always wondered how they would taste.
Dean shoved Sam. Hard.
Sam landed on the bed with a hard thump and scrambled up in surprise.
"Dean~?" Dean looked down at his brother, watching the fog of insanity vanish slowly, faced with the end of a gun. Sam's breathing was heavy, and Dean was in control again, where he belonged. He advanced slowly on his brother, whose wide eyes were startled. Something different in a million Tuesdays.
"You're wrong." Dean said softly, pointing the gun finally to Sam's temple before kneeling down to face him. "Sammie, I know you're in there." He slowly formulated his words. "Please. Come back." He said, breath shaky and scared like Sam has never seen him be. When the insanity faded from his eyes, Dean tossed the gun aside and drew his brother into a tight hug, holding him close. He even sobbed once. "Don't you ever go away like that again, Sam, you understand me?" he voice almost broke. "Ever." Dean caught his face and stared at him. "I'd do anything for you, Sam, anything you wanted." Dean swallowed hard. "You're the most important thing in the world to me, Sam." When Sam leaned in and kissed him, begged for Dean to take him, Dean gave in.
Fight me, because, I am a sinner
Lose me, and, I'm dead before winter
Love me, even if I'm dead and gone
Break me, because, this is the end of the song.
Ruby knew exactly who he was. However, as Sam hugged his brother and she asked the careful question, he didn't care. This was really his brother. Dean was back. Moreover, Sam knew, because of a million Tuesdays ago, that he was once again the most important thing in the world, and that his brother would do anything for him. Anything at all. And though he never abused it again, he knew, in his heart, that the madness of those million Tuesdays still lingered.