Title: NAKED (Thicker, chapter 8)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: by author permission only
Category: Story, Wincest, Dean POV
Spoilers: Post-ep for "The Benders"
Rating: M for adults only due to language and sexual behavior
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: Plunge
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke, and is the property of Kripke Enterprises Scrap Metal and Entertainment (Eric Kripke and Robert Singer, executive producers), Wonderland Sound and Vision, Warner Brothers, and the CW Network. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The rest of my Supernatural stories, also known as the "Thicker" series, appear elsewhere on this archive.
DEDICATION: For Tiff, who shares the ride.
COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, November 17, 2006, jfc@freeshell.org Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.
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"Nightswimming deserves a quiet night
I'm not sure all these people understand
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water
They cannot see me naked
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday..."
It's all the song's fault.
When the sheriff refused to drive us back into town, we were stuck walking back to the car, which took about an hour and a half. I was so glad to see my baby that we just jumped in and high-tailed it out of Minnesota as fast as she could carry us. Sam had left the radio on some station he'd found, and REM was playing that skinny-dipping song when I started the engine before we could dig out a good tape. I can't help it that the idea got stuck in my head.
We were in Iowa before I slowed down. Sam looked sleepy, but by then I was determined to find a motel with a pool. I felt sticky and nasty after being around that godawful family and their activities, and all I wanted to do was to get clean. A journey of a few hours seemed worth the outcome if we were successful.
It was cool outside when the desired body of water was located, but officially close enough to "spring" to assure that it was filled and free of debris. I pointedly didn't ask about it when we checked in, noting only the "swim at your own risk--no lifeguard on duty" sign posted at the gate of the fence around it.
We loaded our stuff into the room, and then I grabbed one of the towels from the bathroom and headed back out the door.
"What do you think you're doing?" Sam asked tiredly.
"Blame Michael Stipe," I answered cryptically, standing with my hand on the doorknob while my brother tried to figure out what I meant. "Let's check out the pool."
"At one a.m.?" he asked, and I just nodded with an eager grin. He narrowed his eyes and gave me a very suspicious look, but finally sighed, went for a towel of his own, and followed me.
No cars could be seen on the two-lane out front of the motel, and the few rooms with cars parked outside were dark and quiet. A couple of weak floodlamps illuminated the lot and canceled out all but the most enthusiastic stars overhead. Even the lights in the motel office had been shut off for the night. We were comfortably alone.
Underwater safety lights gave the sunken pool a welcoming glow, and we gravitated to it like moths. There was a padlock on the gate, but the fence was only waist high, so we hopped it easily and started stalking around, getting the lay of the land. I claimed a deck chair near a small table, and Sam grabbed one nearby.
Off came the boots, jackets, jeans, and shirts, leaving us both standing there in our underwear and silently daring the other to go the rest of the way to skin. Sam finally peeled off his last t-shirt and tighty-whities, then loped over to the steps and descended into the water. Shamed by his bravery, I discarded my last layer and slunk in behind him.
For awhile we just walked wordlessly in circles on the bottom of the pool through the varying water levels from waist-deep to mid-chest high. At the deepest point, I dunked my head under and picked up my feet to get a good soaking. Sam was in reach, so I gave him a sudden splash just to mess with him. In retaliation, he dived under the surface, grabbed my legs, and turned me upside-down.
Sputtering, I righted myself and got my feet back under me to see my brother laughing at me from a yard or two away. What else could I do but swim over and tackle him?
We flailed about weightlessly for a few minutes, chuckling and burning off the stress of the past couple of days, then settled and caught our breath. Sam looked older with his hair plastered to his scalp, but in his undressed state, he still seemed young and vulnerable.
Something had been bothering me since I'd found him cowering in that cage, and I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "Did those people hurt you, Sammy?" I asked, earning a brief glare from him.
He quickly grasped that I was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing, so his expression relaxed again. "Eh, they knocked me around a little, but I'm fine."
That wasn't quite what I'd meant. I swallowed down a mouthful of fear and pure anger to attempt to continue. "No. Did they..." My voice failed me, and I let a light touch to his shoulder and my eyes ask the words I dared not speak.
Sam frowned at me as he deduced what I was asking. "What? Oh... OH!" His eyes widened in shock once my meaning became clear. "No, Dean--they didn't touch me... not like that!" He breathed out something like a relieved laugh and smiled reassuringly, then studied me carefully, his expression growing serious. "Wait--you were really afraid that they'd rape me or something?"
Some part of me still hadn't allowed myself to accept that he was safe and unharmed, but I didn't want to show him how much that upset me. "You mean you weren't?"
He stepped closer to me in the water, smiling shyly. "Maybe a little..." Bending his head, he glanced at me through his wet lashes, his face more naked than the rest of him. "Thanks for worrying about me." For a moment, he hesitated, like he was coming to a decision, and then he kissed me.
My brain immediately flashed to the night I'd kissed him, and of all the times I'd thought of that moment since. Something had changed in the interim, though: while I still knew that my desire for my brother was twisted and bizarre, it no longer felt purely wrong. Sam was the only one on earth who had seen the same terrible things I had, who understood the loneliness and despair of our quest. I had always wanted to care for him and protect him, to provide for him and help him. Sharing physical affection with him suddenly seemed like one more way to do all of that.
I returned his kiss and held onto him so I wouldn't slip and fall in the pool. His body was cool from the water and the outdoor exposure, but warmer than mine, which felt good against me.
After a few moments, he broke away, breathing hard. He swallowed, then asked, "Do you want me..."
"Yes," I replied quickly, interrupting his words.
Blinking in surprise, he started over with a huge smile. "I was gonna say, 'Do you want me to stop?', but I guess that answers my question."
"Guess so," I agreed, lunging up to kiss him some more. I didn't even mind his chewing-gum-over-four-hours-ago-coffee breath. I just needed his touch, his mouth connecting with mine, his arms holding my body carefully. He shifted a little in my grip, and I noticed that he was hard, as was I.
When we separated to breathe, he whispered, "Is it okay if we take this slow? I don't want to screw this up, y'know?"
"Yeah," I responded. "It would be bad if you ended up hating me tomorrow."
His eyes regarded me with such fondness that I knew what he really meant when he said, "I could never hate you." He sealed this promise with a deep, probing kiss.
Taking advantage of our unclothed condition while not breaking the kiss, Sam ran one hand down my arm, then reached for my erection. It jumped a little as he wrapped his fingers around it cautiously. I tried to think how long I'd wanted that from him, and I honestly couldn't recall.
Just then, a car went by on the road, tires crunching on the pavement and headlights playing on the trees towering over the motel. For fear of being seen, we hustled to the side of the pool almost by silent agreement. We stayed under the water and huddled together against the wall, Sam jacking me with a big, strong hand. I closed my eyes and let him take care of me, and I may have whimpered helplessly with pleasure. Heat coiled low in my belly until I came with a shudder and a moan.
We said nothing, but just stood with his arm around my shoulders and his hand gentling me as I came back down to earth. When I caught his eye, he gave me a nod of encouragement, so I reached for his hard cock without further ado. I had never touched another man like that before (or at least not while sober), but he seemed to appreciate my technique.
His face registered something like pain, which worried me until he cried out, muffling his oaths quickly and fucking my fist through his orgasm. He nuzzled against my hair for a moment until he stilled and pressed his lips above my closest ear.
"Better?" I asked, my voice a low purr in my throat.
"Mmmm-hmmmm..." he hummed, then opened his eyes and looked at me with an indulgent grin. "You?"
"Yep. I think it's about time we dried off and got some sleep, though. Don't wanna get too cold."
Sam pulled away, but kissed me one last time. "If I think about the last half hour, I doubt I'll get cold for days." He strode up the concrete stairs and hurried to where he'd left his towel, so I did likewise.
On dry land, we were just brothers again, dressing in a rush and dashing to our room at arm's length. Taking turns in the shower was followed by crawling into our beds and shutting off the light.
As I got comfortable, I muttered almost to myself, "I wonder if I should pick up some of that REM stuff to put in the car..."
"Huh?" murmured Sam sleepily from his pillow.
"Nothing. Good night, Sam."
"G'night..."
Then again, maybe that would lead to other ideas...
THE END