Title: Always His

Author: nend0roidgal

Rating: T

Category: Romance/Future-AU

Summary: Sam and Dean expected to die young and violently; they never expected the American Dream. Light, mostly implied Wincest.

Pairing: Dean/Sam/Dean

Disclaimer: Supernatural the series and the characters do not belong to me, they belong to their respective owners. This fan fiction is written without the intention of profit or gain of any kind. Please do not repost else where without my permission.

Notes: I have only seen up to the fifth season, so whatever happens beyond that doesn't equate into this fic. However, that being said, this fic can pretty much be read from any point in the series as there are really no spoilers. This is my first Supernatural fic; I hope you enjoy it and I hope I've caught all of the spelling/grammatical errors; this was written in pretty much one go which is unheard of for me. I got the idea for this from another fanfic, I'm sorry I am not sure who wrote it or which one, so I apologize for any obnoxious similarities.

Always His by nend0roidgal

Life changed after Dean broke his back, as well as everything else; Sam couldn't help but feel blessed for the first time in years. They still hunted, occasionally, but mostly only the really easy stuff. Cases that didn't involve very much in the way of running, climbing or fighting.

Something else changed even more significantly; it was in the way they saw each other that changed everything. Everything was different now; everything except for their extreme devotion and love for each other, but maybe that had changed too. Sam was there through it all: the extensive, and not to mention expensive, surgeries; the intensive two year recovery where Dean had to relearn how to walk and do just about everything else. The long nights holding Dean as he cried, just wishing he would die; the addiction to pain killers that closely followed and the explosive intervention that nearly destroyed them.

All of it only worked to further cement the one thing Sam had known for years deeper into his brain: he was never leaving Dean again. Not now, not ever, not even in death.

Somewhere down the line things changed as things are wont to do. There was nothing concrete to mark the real change in their relationship and nothing to signify what had happened to cause it either. Maybe there wasn't anything; maybe it had always been there, hiding underneath them like a shadow of a thought.

Their first house, and as far as Dean was concerned, their only house, was a fixer-upper and boy did Dean have a time with that one. Sun up to sun down he worked on the girl as though nothing else mattered. Sam knew with a pang of heartache that it was the only thing keeping Dean from thinking about the pills. Though Sam worried, he went out and got a part time job to help them stay on top of things now that hustling pool in a town they lived in was more than a little weird. Thankfully Dean stayed off of the pills and managed not to hurt himself too often, though Sam spent several nights a week giving Dean back massages to help him relax his painfully tight muscles.

And maybe Dean wasn't all that sore most of the time, and maybe Sam liked it more than he should when Dean reciprocated the favor.

Maybe that's where it started; Sam wasn't sure.

Their life now was too good for them, Dean liked to say, but Sam knew Dean cherished it regardless. Dean liked to sit by the open window on a warm, fall day and listen to the buses roll by; the sounds of laughter echoing down the street from the local elementary school. Dean said he was keeping an eye out for predators, and Sam believed him, but he knew it was the innocence that drew him in. It was a part of their life they were never able to fully experience themselves. A part of a shared history they didn't have between them to share.

They took turns with the cooking and the cleaning, although Sam did most of the heavy lifting. Dean didn't like feeling useless, so Sam didn't make a big deal out of it; he still let Dean do the fiddly things like fixing the washer or constructing their easy assemble furniture from Ikea. Sam still remembered with a smile on his face the day Dean put together their first bed; the way he sat sprawled on the floor in absolute frustration at the overly complex simplicity of the frame. Separate bedrooms had always seemed foreign and weird to them given the way they were raised, and since neither of them invited girls back home, or "Sam's Gentlemen Friends," as Dean liked to tease sometimes, sharing one bedroom and making the other into an office seemed like the most logical solution. Their house was tiny already, and two beds, even twins, seemed cramped. They did what they did best and followed the logical procession of things. Sam didn't help Dean with the construction of their bed other than refill Dean's mug of coffee and place a feather light kiss on the warm, cotton clothed shoulder.

It hadn't been intentional; almost accidental on Sam's part to be fair, but it had seemed so natural in that intimate and familial moment that it wasn't that much of a surprise for Sam. Dean didn't say anything about it afterwards, but the night that followed was very different from any night before or since then. It marked the physical change even though the metaphysical one had manifested years before. All it took was an arm casually slung over Sam's hip to set the inescapable avalanche crashing down upon their heads.

Sam learned things about his brother he had never known before; things he was unlikely to ever have learned before the injury. Dean enjoyed gardening, no, more than that, he loved it; he was especially proud of his prized gardenias that surrounded their home in a wall of white. Beyond a love for flowers, Dean actually wasn't that bad of a cook and he was a pro when it came to grilling. Sam couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest when he watched Dean flipping hamburgers in one hand, a cold beer in the other as he chatted up some of their neighbors during one of their many backyard parties. No one believed they were brothers anymore; everyone just assumed that when he and Dean first arrived they feared no one would accept them. When the pieces were finally so firmly put into place, they were greeted with a lot of, 'we knew it's. There was no rejection and no shame, just a surprisingly large amount of openness. Sam and Dean were more than fine with this misunderstanding, after all, when had their life not been built upon a lie?

Sam fingered the well worn golden ring on his hand.

There were things about their life that were too perfectly clichéd; they even had the token small dog they named Rufflelupagus. They called her Ruffy for short. She was a jumble of all sorts of breeds and was perhaps the cutest-ugliest thing Sam had ever seen. Ruffy was smart; she also had a knack for sensing the supernatural which worked to their advantage more often than Sam dared to count. Like a canary in a coal mine, Ruffy knew when something was going to go down hours before Dean or Sam caught wind of it. Thankfully whatever they hunted rarely followed them home.

Dean liked to complaine sometimes that they were 'too gay' but Sam knew Dean loved Ruffy almost as much as he loved Sam. Ruffy was Dean's 'baby baby,' the Impala still retaining it's former glory and place in Dean's heart. And of course Sam was still 'Sammy,' but when Dean was feeling more affectionate than usual which happened more often than not these days, Sam became 'baby boy,' or 'my baby.' Even Sam was subject to Dean's silly pet names, not that he minded as much as he pretended.

Most nights Ruffy slept at the foot of the bed, but on some occasions she could be found curled up behind Dean's neck since the man's chest was reserved for one person, and one person only. Sam knew it was ridiculous to get jealous over a dog, but sometimes he needed a reassuring touch just as much as Dean did.

Or a kiss.

They took turns in their roles, but Sam knew it was hard for Dean sometimes to do anything but lie back. Sam never said anything about it; he wouldn't hurt Dean like that, he just happily accepted this with overwhelming amount of affection. He even let Dean call him 'cowgirl' when the older man was in a playful mood; and secretly, Sam liked it just a little bit, not that he would ever admit to it. Dean would never let him live it down if he knew.

Dean still needed his confidence boosts from time to time and Sam was more than happy to give them to him. Because in the end, Sam would always be there, and Dean would always be his.