FIC TITLE: Smalltown Stella
(Thank Lou Reed lyrics for a title.)
Author- PTBvisiongrrl
Part- 1/?
I absolutely plan on continuing this, but the next bits are not written or editing yet, so the update
might take a bit.
Date- 10/18/15
Rating – M/NC-17
Pairings/Characters- No Wincest—but plenty of other sex and a threesome (Dean/OFC/Sam)
Word Count- 6,482
Genre- PWP
Warnings- If PWP or M/F/M threesome will offend you, click back now.
Spoilers- Not really. I have only seen through Season 5 and this is largely AU. Place it sometime in Season One.
Disclaimers- New to the fandom, though not fanfiction, so characters may be a little off. Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…so please don't sue me. If I did own them, there would be a lot more shirtless Jensen Ackles getting some on the show!
Summary-
Dean had the girl before. Sam gets the girl this time. The girl wants both boys next time. Not a lot of plot here.
Chapter 1"C'mon, Sammy. Successful hunt, still pretty flush after last week's huge haul hustling pool….let's celebrate life a little!" Dean tried to draw his little brother out of the mood Sam had fallen back into this morning. "There's this little bar not too far down the road, awesome food, great selection of beer—last time through here, on a hunt by myself, there was this amazing red-headed waitress…."
Dean powered through the sideways, irritated stare Sam gave him. "All the girls there were hot. You aren't me, of course, but if you stopped with the brooding and put those puppy-dog eyes of yours to work, you'd be pretty busy. I mean, last bar, you had girls eyeing you up all night, but you couldn't even tell when that blonde hottie was hitting on you."
Sam's eyes shifted forward and closed, and he sunk down in the Impala's passenger seat. Crossing his arms and leaning against the glass, Sam tried to ignore Dean's continued extolling of the virtues of no-strings "cleaning of the pipes" for helping raise a hunter's spirits. When it didn't work, he reached out and turned up the volume of Metallica to the point where even Dean couldn't shout loud enough to be heard. Surrendering to the pounding bass, Sam thought about Jessica, how much he missed her…and how he couldn't look at other women just yet because somehow they all reminded him of her...until he fell asleep.
D&S/D&S/D&S
The waitress was a red head, built like a real-life Barbie, and happy to see Dean, based on her wide smile and "Well, hello sugar, long time no see!" greeting. Her smile got even wider, however, at the new "long, tall drink of water" he brought with him, inquiring who Dean's friend was.
"Not a friend, Stella. That's my baby brother," Dean cackled.
"You sure about that?" Stella asked, eyes twinkling. "I mean, baby brothers aren't supposed to tower over big brothers, are they?"
Sam immediately liked her a little. Anyone who could rib Dean about his height compared to Sam and get away with it earned some points in Sam's book. "I keep telling him to stop embarrassing himself by introducing me that way." Sam smiled back at her and offered his hand. "My name's Sam, Stella."
"Well, nice to meet you, Sam. I think I know Dean's order already—a dozen Srichachi wings and a Yeungling Black and Tan?" Stella confirmed with Dean's chuckle and nod. "But what can I get you?"
Sam did that pressed together and to the side lip thing that showed he was unsure. "Didn't decide yet. Any recommendations?"
Stella studied him for a minute. "We have a really good blue cheese burger, topped with Ghost chili hot sauce, if you like things spicy. Or if you prefer more traditional, we have a Colby-jack bacon burger topped with onion rings on a Hawaiian roll."
Dean laughed. "Sammy here doesn't do spicy food," he added, slapping Sam on the shoulder in what Dean thought was a congenial manner and Sam thought was obnoxious.
"That bacon burger sounds good, thanks." Sam closed his menu and handed it to the waitress. "Coke, please, to drink."
Stella smiled widely and left to place their order, while Sam mumbled under his breath at Dean. Dean pretended not to hear, scanning the bar for girls. There were a few here, but given the midweek night not many. If Dean hadn't already had an eye on the waitress, there was a curvy, dark haired girl at the bar with another redhead that he would have gone for. He pointed the girl out to the Sam. "What about the chick at the bar? She do it for you?" Dean nodded to Sam, directing his attention.
"I would actually like to talk to a girl before I proposition her, Dean. You are such a slut." Sam shot Dean an angry look.
Dean took mild offense. "Just because no one can resist my boyish good looks and natural charm, I'm a slut? And I don't just go home with any one, Sam. I do have standards."
"A pulse?" Sam shot back.
Dean was saved from answering by Stella's return with his beer, Sam's soda, and a two shot glasses. "The shots are from those two lovelies at the bar," Stella motioned her head towards the two girls Dean had been looking at, "for the two handsome fellas who just got here."
Dean turned to smile at the girls—who giggled after catching his eye. "See, Sammy? Girls just can't help themselves. I'm irresistible."
Stella laughed. "Is that what you tell yourself, Dean?"
The look of surprise and indignation on Dean's face made Sam do a spit-take. "Hey!"
"Oh, Dean. I'm not saying you aren't hot shit, believe me. I know better than some that you are 100% Grade A prime beef, and a great time." Stella stoked his ego a bit before cutting him down. "But those girls were talking about your baby brother here before they sent drinks over."
"You are kidding me!" Dean yelped. He was more than willing to share a spotlight with this brother, but as oldest—he was not willing to totally step out of it.
"I believe the comment was something like, I wonder if everything is in proportion…." Stella laughed at how red Dean's face got, and smiled at the blush that crept across Sam's cheeks and up to the tips of his ears.
"I have to do something about this," Dean muttered, downing both his own shot and Sam's before standing with beer in hand to make his way over to the bar.
Sam just shook his head, and Stella, too. "He is so predictable," Stella smiled at Sam. "Give it a half-hour, and he will be leaving with both those girls. I hope you have another way home?" she asked.
Sam studied her. He knew she and Dean had hooked up before, but she didn't seem at all interested in his big brother tonight. "He usually remembers to give me the keys first."
"Well, if he doesn't, I'm done in an hour," Stella stated, winked, and went to take the order of another table. "Your food will be here soon."
Twenty-five minutes later, Dean made his way back to the table, shit-eating grin on his face and car keys in his hand. "Got plans, Sammy. Take good care of my baby!"
"Seriously, Dean? You're skipping out on me this early? Going out was your idea!" Sam had already had two other women approach him, but neither had impressed him much. One had quickly run out of things to say when Sam showed zero interest in reality television, and the other simply wasn't that bright. When she asked where he was from, she thought Kansas was in New England.
Dean just shrugged. "Sorry, Sam. The girls are eager to leave…BOTH of them."
"Got it, Dean. Two girls and you, dream come true. Hope you can keep up!" Sam took the keys.
"Believe me, not a problem," Dean threw over his shoulder on the way back to the bar to gather up his lovelies.
Stella was back with the wings and burger just in time to see Dean leave with a girl on each arm. "I hope he can handle those two," she chuckled, placing the food in front of Sam. "And I hope you can handle these wings," she added.
"What do you, mean handle those two?" Sam asked, always on the lookout for his brother.
"They aren't demons or anything like that," Stella assured him, raising her eyebrows at Sam's incredulous look. "I know hunters when I see them, Sam. I know those two and they are just tag-team nymphomaniacs. If Dean can't keep up, they'll just amuse each other and let him watch. Plus, I slipped some holy water into their last drinks just to check before I'd let Dean leave with them."
Stella patted Sam's shoulder. "And I heard Dean christo them both as well. He's not stupid, just horny."
Again, Sam blinked at her, still too stunned to speak. "Did I break you, little brother?" Stella smiled at him, finally cutting through his stupor.
"Are you a hunter?" Sam managed to ask.
Stella shook her head. "Mother and father, both, and husband." Seeing Sam's quick glance at her ring finger and plain silver band there, she added, "All killed on the job."
Sam sighed. "That's rough."
Stella shrugged. "Everyone in the world has their own version of rough. Mine isn't all that bad, compared to some. Lonely, sometimes, but that's the life I was born to and knew no better."
"Did you want to be a hunter?" Sam asked.
Stella heard her name called by the bartender, and shouted back that she'd be right there. "We can continue this conversation when I'm off the clock, if you'd like, but I have to get back to work."
Sam licked his lips. "Would you like to continue our conversation?" he asked, eyes unguarded and shy.
Stella smiled widely. "Yes, I would."
"I'll be here," Sam answered.
D&S/D&S/D&S
The next time Stella stopped by, she brought his check and nodded at the clock. "I clock out in five minutes; will take about ten to settle up with Charlie for the night and then I'll be back."
It was more like fifteen, by the time she made it to the table, but her make-up looked freshened and there was a drink in both her hands. "Brought you another one, and one with a kick for myself." She slid into the booth across from him.
"Thank you," Sam said and then sipped.
"Why no alcohol?" Stella asked. "Most hunters, on their down time, are quite the hell raisers. Dean's a case in point."
"I don't like to lose control, and I can't hold my liquor as well as my brother," Sam answered. "Dean drinks my share as well as his."
"So you are one of the hunters who might live to a ripe old age, then," Stella took a sip of her own drink.
"That what happened to your family?" Sam asked, falling back into the groove of their earlier conversation.
"My parents were hell-raisers, but damn good hunters as well. Just the wrong place at the wrong time; intel was wrong, and a demon was waiting." Stella took another sip. "My husband, well, he was an idiot on top of a drunk. He learned the hard way that pronunciation is key during ritual magic."
Sam made a sympathetic noise. "What went wrong?"
"Demon decided he was tasty." Stella sipped her drink again. "I decided widowhood was preferably to marriage to a demon."
"Ouch," was all Sam could muster, pushing the conversation into an awkward lull.
Stella revived it. "How much younger are you than Dean?"
"Four years. And he NEVER lets me forget it." Sam leaned back in his chair a little. "Dad's a hunter, too, so Dean practically raised me when we were little."
"Funny he didn't mention you before. Dean and I have been…friendly for a while." Stella asked without a question.
"I was away at school. Came back just last year." Sam knew most people would either be impressed or turned off by his next statement. No one likes lawyers, after all. "I was going to go to law school, but something came up. Dean needed me." Sam ran his hand through his unruly hair. "Never went back."
"Life happens that way," Stella tilted her head. "Believe me, I never intended to be at this place as long as I have."
"How long?" Sam asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Rare enough to find a woman he wanted to talk to, much less one he could talk openly to about the family business.
"Four years. Charlie has an apartment out back that I rent, and I do some tarot reading on the side. Tips aren't too bad, even out here in the middle of almost-nowhere." Stella took a deep swallow of her drink. Sam could tell that she didn't want to talk much more. "I just really haven't found a reason to leave, yet, I guess."
Sam envied her for a minute. To stay in one place longer than a month or two—until Stanford, three months was the longest Sam has lived in any place until his junior year of high school, and that was just twice. Sam had chosen to stay behind from hunts and take care of himself at that point so that he could finish school and have a shot at applying to college. His father hadn't seen the point in college—they didn't exactly teach you how to hunt—but Dean had sided with him and defended him to his father. "Mom would have wanted him to go to college," was the last thing Dean said before walking out to the Impala to leave on the hunt, leaving John no choice but to follow.
"I'm glad you stayed, Stella," Sam took her hand. "Because I got to meet you."
Stella studied him, then drained her glass. "My apartment is out back. Want to come by for a drink?"
Sam drained his own glass. "Yes, I would like that a lot."
D&S/D&S/D&S
Stella led the way up wide, weathered wooden steps and across a rather empty matching deck. She paused as they reached the door. "Are you the gentlemanly type who opens doors for the ladies?" She asked, holding up her keys.
Sam gave her the half-smile, one corner tugged up in mild humor. "I might be—but I don't think you would like it."
"Good call, Sammy," she smiled, opening the door and flipping on a lamp. "Did you really want that drink, or can we skip it?"
Sam studied Stella's face in the half-shadows. "I think its ladies' choice tonight."
Stella bit her lip, dropping her purse and jacket on a chair next to the door. "The lady is still making up her mind. I think a drink and a talk would be positively enchanting…but I also really want to skip ahead to the bare skin and orgasms."
Sam blushed.
"The fact that I make you blush so pretty… I feel like some femme fatale here!" She brushes the back of her hand against Sam's prominent cheekbone. "Like I'm taking advantage of you."
Sam laughed, nervousness in his voice. "I'm just…outta practice?"
"Oh, honey, that just made you even hotter." Stella sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. "I'll take it slow for you, then. Or whatever speed you prefer."
Sam colored even more and sat down stiffly next to her, which made Stella smile a sweet, shy smile. "I'm not going to ask why you are out of practice, because that will just be a mood killer. But I like the idea of getting you back into the game."
"I'm not that—playful about it. Sex. I'm not certainly not the man-whore Dean is. I don't usually pick someone up in a bar and gone home with them," Sam admitted in a low voice. There was just something about Stella that made him want to talk to her.
"Be still my heart. I get to pop your one-night-stand cherry! I'm starting to feel some pressure to perform, here." Stella grasped her chest dramatically, then got serious. "And, by the way, I'm not a demon, either. Christo!"
Sam laughed, as Stella had intended. "So if I'm doing all the heavy lifting here, Sam," Stella turned to him, "maybe you should kiss me first."
Sam studied Stella's face—pretty, heart-shaped, wide blue eyes the color of the sky in summer, and very full lips. Those lips really did beg to be kissed, he thought, making a decision. He leaned over, tilted his head, and brushed his mouth against hers softly—once, twice, three times. By the fourth time, he pressed those lips open and teased her tongue with his before pulling back.
"Oh, Sam." Stella sighed. "I'm not going to break." And she kissed him back, cupping his cheek and resting her fingers below his ear. Just a little more force than Sam had used, which he then returned. His large hands reached enough to cradle her head while they kissed; she rose on her knees to better meet him halfway.
Sam's left hand dropped to her hip and then cupped her ass, pulling her towards him. Stella ended up in his lap, straddling his hips. She shifted so that she could push him against the sofa's back and leaned her body against his, breasts firm and full pressing against his hard muscles.
Sam's hands wrapped themselves in her hair, keeping her mouth on his until he needed to break for air. Her lips were soft, and so full…he couldn't get enough of them. He loved the feel of her slight weight on him, making him feel protective of her fragility—the illusion of which lasted only until she grasped his broad shoulders for balance and she ravaged his mouth. He had a feeling she could more than hold her own if pushed. The thought of not having to handle her like a porcelain doll, afraid to break her, made him less gentle than he usually was. He took her mouth deeper, harder. He could have stayed like that for much longer than they did; his concentration on her mouth and that playful tongue was replaced by a gradual awareness of her rolling her hips against him as they kissed.
She spread her knees wider to find better friction, just as he shifted to improve contact. Her gasp and eyes closing with a shudder at the feel of him against her inner core stopped the action for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.
Stella licked her lips. "More than," she whispered, grinding hard against him and earning the same reaction from Sam that she had just had. "Are you okay?" she laughed.
Sam's hands slipped down to encircle her waist, pulling her down against him just as he moved his hips upward. His smile at her arching back was enough of an answer-
Friction, heat, the slide of mouth on mouth was interrupted when Stella threw her head back and moaned. It was distinctive, and made Sam pull her tighter to him. "Almost there?" he asked, watching the cords in her neck stand out as she struggled to catch her breath.
"Yes," she ground even harder against him. "Just a little-"
And it really did just take a little more. Sam swallowed her moans, hands scrambling to pull her t-shirt up and off. Breaking the kiss to tear the offending material over her head, Stella leaned her forehead against his. "I can't believe you made me cum fully clothed."
"Imagine what I can do with your clothes off," Sam answered, long digits already struggling with her jeans' snap.
"If I'm losing clothes, so are you," Stella raised an eyebrow. "Shirt, gone, now."
Sam complied quickly, and she ran her hands over the muscles of his broad chest. "You are yummy," was all she said before ducking down to tease one nipple and then the other. Running her nails up his sides as she drew level to his face, "I can't wait to see the rest of you."
Popping open her bra and pulling it down her arms, Sam agreed. "Me, too," was her only warning before his lips drew her nipples in. He sucked one, then the other. He was gentle at first, just a ghost of a pull, before sucking harder, rougher. When she made positive noises to his actions, he increased the roughness, pulling back as he sucked hard, drawing more of the areola into his mouth, and tender nibbles as he let the nipple go. Kissing up the valley between breasts, he gently bit his way up her neck, tugging on her earlobe in tandem with rolling her nipples with his long fingers.
"You are gorgeous, all worked up like this," Sam lowly whispered into her ear. "I want to see more of you." Reaching again for her jeans, Stella rose up on her knees to help him out. Once unbuttoned, she needed to stand to remove anything further. Sam helped her up and off him, watching her pull one shapely leg out and then the other. He could see the edges of a tattoo of some kind on her hipbone. When he reached to pull her panties to the side to get a better view of it, however, she stopped his hand. "You have more clothes on than me again, Sam."
Smiling, Sam rose and let Stella unbutton his jeans. She pulled them down slowly, falling to her knees as she did so and looking up at him. There was no way to avoid, on the way down or looking up, the effect she was having on him. Reaching up to cup him, she rubbed his evident interest through cotton boxer-briefs and was surprised to find that he wasn't yet fully erect—despite the size of his bulge. "Those girls would be so disappointed to find out just how…proportional you really are."
Sam held his breath as Stella handled him, then let her hands wander up to his waistband while she mouthed him through the material. As his briefs came down, she pulled away momentarily but then immediately engulfed him with her mouth. Of the few girlfriends he had had, none had managed to handle his length as well as Stella did. He could feel her relax the muscles in her throat to take him in deeper, the extraordinary soft barrier as his tip brushed against the uvula…
When she wrapped her hands around his ass, pulling him when he didn't thrust against her, Sam started listing the ways to kill a demon to keep from losing it so quickly. Her mouth and throat felt amazing. When Sam felt himself getting ready to tip over the edge, he tried to stop Stella's movement, but she was caught up in it and didn't notice his attempt.
Gentlemanly instincts warred. Sam didn't want to cum without warning down her throat (well, he did, but it wasn't polite and he knew it) AND he didn't want to have to use force to stop her. It was quickly getting to the point of no return, however, so he gave it one last attempt. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled back harder than before.
Even pulling her back far enough to be able to catch her eyes left his cock fairly far into her mouth. Stella gave a little mew of distress, but stopped. "Stella, I'm going-" was all he got out before she drove her mouth back on him and took all he had to give.
Sam panted, trying to catch his breath, finding it stolen by the sight of Stella licking her lips like a cat. Stella rose, pulling Sam's jeans back up a bit, and then grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of her bedroom.
D&S/D&S/D&S
Stella crawled up the bed—no other way to describe it—and turned, settling on her back, legs splayed open. "My turn," she smiled, one hand drifting over the visually damp spot on her panties.
Sam agreed, stripping quickly and positioning himself between her thighs. He pulled her down towards him, strength in those arms evident by the ease with which he moved her. He brushed his nose against her mound, enjoying her scent, before placing a trail of open-mouth kisses down her inner thigh, totally ignoring where she wanted his attention.
Stella squirmed, trying to refocus Sam's attention, but he pulled his mouth away. "My turn to play," Sam corrected her, his voice lower and more gravely than in conversation. Not demanding, exactly, but his tone promised enough that she stilled herself and agreed.
Resuming the path back up her thigh, Sam added gentle bites to each kiss. As he reached the juncture of her leg and torso, he teased a line parallel to her still-on panties before brushing against her center again. It was a brief moment of pressure and expectation, which ended as soon as he began a mirror journey down and up her other thigh.
Stella tried to widen Sam's access, opening her legs just a little bit more, but Sam again stopped her, eyes on her, restating, "My turn."
For a guy who did not ping her radar as very dominant, Sam could pull it off when he wanted to. She bit her lip, staring him down for a minute, before relaxing once again into his grip. She was rewarded with a hard nibble (not a bite, no teeth on her skin, but definite pressure) just where her leg and feminine folds met. Wanting more rewards for letting Sam lead, Stella made her appreciation vocal, moaning lowly.
Sam did it again, on the other leg. Stella couldn't stop the spasm that ran up her body. "More, please, Sam," she asked. She wasn't begging, yet, but had a feeling that it might soon be on the menu.
Pulling her panties to the side, Sam bit down again, harder, before tonguing his way across and into her folds.
Finally, she thought, gasping and trying to catch her breath.
Sam's tongue was nimble. Circling her bud, dipping into her core before dancing around her lips, over and over again. The build-up was amazing, like the slow upward climb of a roller coaster—knowing the real fun was barreling down again. Her peak was hit when Sam went straight at her clit, back and forth relentlessly with his tongue. As she thrashed, he maintained his speed and pressure against her, making her cum three times in a row, without pause.
Stella swore she actually blacked out trying to catch her breath, because the next thing she recognized was cool air on the skin where she had previously had on panties, a tearing sound of foil, and the solid feel of a cock at her entrance. When she tried to speak, still not quite recovered from Sam's mouth and a little apprehensive about taking his size, Sam paused. Leaning down over her, he pressed his lips against hers, nudging her lips open until she could taste herself. When she slid her tongue against his in response, he pulled away for a minute and asked, "Still my turn?"
The combination of sweetness and desire in his tone assured her quick acquiescence with a whispered, "Yes." Good thing, too, because the sound of her answer hadn't yet died when she felt him slide into her.
Not too thick—but meaty enough—long—his cock stretched her, farther than she was used to, but Sam had thoroughly prepared her with his mouth. As he pushed inch after inch into her snugness, she felt another orgasm immediately begin to wash over her. She had always been a multiple orgasm gal (one of the reasons she liked sex as much as she did), but this was new.
Sam simply smiled at her, gently riding her clenching spasms out. "You feel so good, so tight on me," he closed he eyes as he rocked against her.
"We're a good match, Sam—because you feel really damn good in me," Stella wrapped her hands around his ass, opening her legs wider to pull him into her tighter and deeper. She groaned, deep and guttural, as she felt his cock's head bump hard against her cervix.
"Fuck," Sam muttered.
"Fuck?" Stella inquired, taking more control back and forcing Sam to move in her again. When he didn't delve as deeply as she wanted, she pulled him against her again, with force. "I want to feel you tomorrow, an ache in me, after you've gone. Fuck me good and hard."
Sam was not lost enough in the feel of her to lose his common sense. He knew how big he was, and how much hurt he could cause if just let lose. It was not in his nature to want to cause pain to his partners. One or two had liked a little discomfort, but not true pain. Even Jessica couldn't take rough fucking with him, though; they had only attempted a few times. "Are you sure?" he asked.
Stella looked directly into his eyes. "Yes. I want it. Go to town. I love hard, deep fucking—especially big cocks like yours." The truth was in her eyes, and she saw the response darken his.
Then she had to close her eyes, because Sam fucked her hard and deep, stealing her breath away. Her cries of more, more! got her exactly what she wanted from him—more cock, more force, and another orgasm. He slowed down, gentled, as he felt her tighten around him, but resumed his grueling pace when she demanded it. She came around him hard a second time before it got to be a bit much. She didn't want to tell him to stop, though, because Sam seemed really into it.
"Come again for me, Sam?" she asked, arching her back and breathing deep as she fucked her. "I feel so good—but can't do this much longer without a break—and I want you to feel as good as I do." She moved to wrap her hands around his shoulders, pulling herself tightly around him.
Sam's thrusts sped up, but got shallower. She could tell he was close, just not quite there. She moaned against his neck; his breath quickened more. She bit at the cords of his neck standing out as he held himself over her; his hips stuttered. She bit harder, hard enough to bruise, and he groaned loudly. She felt his warmth in her, filling the condom, several eruptions before he stopped moving and dropped his forehead against her shoulder.
"Stella," he mumbled, clearly exhausted.
She smiled to herself. Sam was a fantastic lay; she really wanted to go for another ride in the morning. But right now they both needed a time out to get some rest. Kissing Sam deeply, Stella had to turn her head to yawn. "Let's clean up and get some sleep, Sammy."
Sam nodded, too blissed out to register (much less protest) the nickname, and rolled off to her right. She got up on rather unsteady legs to make her way to the bathroom to wash up and bring back some tissues and a wet wash cloth for Sam, who hadn't moved beyond taking off the condom. Stella tied it off and wrapped it in the tissues, leaning over to toss it in the wastebasket before turning back to clean Sam gently off.
Tossing the messy cloth back in the direction of the bathroom, Stella curled up next to Sam. When she reached to pull the bed linens over them, Sam wrapped his long limbs around her and pulled her tight to him. For a large man, hard muscles and all, Sam was surprisingly cuddly. Stella didn't usually do the snuggling thing, but Sam practically demanded it in his sleep. His even breathing and subtle warmth next to her allowed Stella to relax enough for deep sleep to claim her.
D&S/D&S/D&S
The pounding on Stella's door woke Sam before her. As he groggily sat up, Dean's "I gotta thank you, Stel—those two girls were FUN!" woke her as well. Rising and pulling a robe on, Stella shook her head. "Go back to sleep. I'll deal with up and at 'em boy."
Sam laid back down, but kept his ears open. In his happy mood, Dean's voice was clear through the wooden door to the living room. "You scheming woman," Dean chuckled. "I'd kiss you for setting me up with those two last night, but I think I know where your mouth has been."
Stella closed and locked the door behind Dean. "Is that coffee?" she asked, trying to steal it.
"Yes. One for you—cream and sugar on the side, so you can doctor it the way you like—and a one with a double expresso shot for Sammy." Dean threw himself down on her sofa, put his boots up on her coffee table, and shouted for his brother. "Yo, Sammy! We got to hit the road! Bobby called!"
Grumbling, Sam sat up and looked for his clothes. Linens were bunched at the bottom of the bed, but boxers and t-shirt were nowhere to be found. He wasn't functioning well enough to search for them, yet, and went out to get his coffee.
"I see you two had a good night," Dean was leering at Stella in her sheer, short robe, and didn't see Sam's nakedness before Sam located his jeans and pulled them on. Dean was also not prepared for the punch to his shoulder from Sam. "What?" Dean asked.
"You have no manners," Sam muttered as he claimed his coffee.
"It's not like I haven't seen it before, Sammy," Dean raised en eyebrow, waiting to see what sort of reaction that would get from Sam. Some days Dean was still amazed that they grew up together and yet were so different on things, like casual sex.
The reaction came from Stella, though. "And you will behave if you ever want to see it again," she firmly stated, sipping the coffee like it was manna from heaven.
Sam was a little shocked at her matter-of-fact answer, although Dean just laughed. Turning to Dean, enjoying Sam's reaction just a little too much, Stella raised her own eyebrow. "Unless you don't want to see it again, Dean?"
"I would never turn down an invitation to see such as beautiful woman naked," Dean smiled back at Stella, while Sam sucked back about a half-cup of coffee to buy some time to consider a comment. Stella simply chuckled to herself as she stirred in sugar, watching both boys. What a pair; each was a lot of fun, in his own way. Maybe, if she could get them to hang around a little longer… "How about I fix us some breakfast before you hit the road?" Stella suggested.
"Bacon and eggs?" Sam perked up.
"Home fries, too?" Dean asked, his voice in a wheedling tone.
Stella shook her head. "Home fries, too, if you want. Let me get those started, then I'll jump in the shower. You two can take turns and be all clean in time to sit down and eat."
"You are too kind, Stella." Sam got up and kissed her cheek, heading to her kitchen to toss his now empty coffee cup into the trash.
"Don't think this is all me being nice, Sam," Stella got up as well. "I'd like to make sure you boys remember to stop by on your next visit through town. And I was hoping…well, you'll need a hearty breakfast to keep your stamina up."
At Sam's deer-in-headlights look, and Dean's smirky raised eyebrow, Stella gave a throaty chuckle. "You talk amongst yourselves while I shower. Food's on offer no matter the answer."
Sam had a little trouble formulating the question he now wanted to ask, but as always, Dean could read his mind and cut through the bull much faster than him. "You little minx. All three of us, together?"
"Dean, you went home with two girls last night. I didn't think you would have a problem with this." Stella walked over to Sam, and pulled his face so that he was looking into her eyes. "I wasn't sure how you would feel about this, though."
Sam's mind went a little into overload. "You want us—me, and him—together—with you?"
"Well, yes. Dean's a helluva lot of fun….and you are delicious….and why not?" Stella shrugged. "I won't be offended if you say no, Sammy. I understand its not everyone's cup of tea." Stella began pulling off her t-shirt, never mind the two men in the room, and heading for the bathroom. "You can think it over as long as you need to. I'm going to shower."
Stella matter-of-factly changed grabbed her towel and shut the door behind her.
Dean was studying Sam intently. This was not an area of their relationship that had ever been tested. "Just how much do you like Stella, college-boy?" Dean asked. He knew Sam didn't usually do casual sex—so this could be a problem, if his feelings for Stella were more than just physical—plus, if Sam didn't do causal sex, Dean wasn't really sure Sam could handle a threesome.
Sam leaned against the living room wall and slid down until he was sitting. "She's fun. I'd really like to have sex with her again. I'm not in love with her."
"She apparently would really like to have sex again, too, Sammy," Dean leered and then looked away. "With both of us."
Sam looked perturbed. "I don't know about you, but I have never—"
Dean met his brother's eyes. "Not two guys and a girl, no, me neither."
A few minutes of silence followed, interrupted by Dean. "We deal with shit that breaks the rules of the world all the time, and a three-way is what freaks us out. What pussies."
Sam laughed. "I'm not exactly freaked out. Trying to figure out how this would work-"
"I'm not into guys like that," Dean quickly countered.
"And you automatically think I am?" Sam shot back.
"You're the one that went off to college. Who the hell knows what you did there," Dean pushed, needling his younger brother.
"You're my brother, dude, even if I was into guys." Sam looked perturbed. "And I'm not."
"But you are into Stella," Dean reminded him.
"This doesn't weird you out at all?" Sam asked.
"Maybe," Dean shrugged. "But I know how hot Stella is. Hot really balances out the weird feeling a bit."
Sam agreed. "But its still a little weird."
"Well Stella is right about one thing. A shower sounds like a good idea right about now." Dean gathered a towel and stripped to his boxer-briefs before heading to the smaller bathroom.
Sam poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down to wait for a free bathroom. Whether they stayed or not, he stank of sex, and really didn't want to have to smell himself on the road. Sam always had been the thinker, over-thinker really. Stella was fun. Stella was hot. Stella wanted to do something that was really off the charts hot. Well, if it was another girl and not Dean, it would be hotter, but this was pretty damn hot. Their life really didn't follow many rules, all sacrificed to the Hunt. Why not bend one where it was to their own benefit, and not for the greater good?
And that was where Sam's mind was when Stella came out of her bedroom, freshly showered, smelling sweet and damp, clad in nothing but a tight white wife beater and matching boy shorts.