Title: What Makes A Man?
Rating: R
Pairings: mention of past Sam/Jessica, hints at Dean/Castiel, Sam/Daryl, Sam/Gabriel, hint of Sam/Daryl/Gabriel. PAIRINGS. PAIRINGS EVERYWHERE.
Genre: Tiiiny bit of emotional h/c, mostly just feel good porn. Because I can.
Spoilers: None! Except spoil your mind for life.
Warnings: SLASH, hints at past sexual abuse (including dubcon aka prison times), past mental abuse, blowjob, handjob, threesome, sickeningly sweet sexy times I don't even know ok.
Word Count: 4,632
Summary: Daryl has never been cared about. Turns out he may just have found someone who does care.
A/N: What have I done, GOOD LORD. A little drabble in my "The Walking Supernatural" verse because I can't let it go just yet apparently. Sort of set after the end of my first fic. Might want to read that first otherwise this might seem a bit odd haha.
So I had a few people request some Sam/Daryl and I am apparently incapable of writing just smutty porn, so you get porn with a dab of character development instead. I'm also a Sabriel fan so…yeah. Poor Sam…actually wait, Sam you lucky bitch. If you're not a fan of these pairings, don't read, you won't miss any overall plot! :) This is just my shameless attempt at improving my sexy times writing. Title from a song by City and Colour which I listened to obsessively while writing this.
….
He was running, legs heavy as he tore through a dark forest. Things tittered and cackled in the darkness, reaching for him with dead rotting fingers as he ran by, snagging his clothes. He tore free with a hoarse shout, tripping as something else grabbed his ankle. He scrambled in the dirt, desperate to break free, fingers digging deep scours in the dead earth.
It released him with a terrible laugh and he was running again, uncaring of the dead branches that clawed at his face as he ran on. A voice lilted through the trees and rustling leaves, fitting the pounding beat of his heart as he struggled through the forest.
"Run, run as fast as you can, can't catch me, I'm a Dixon man…"
It was horrifyingly familiar, and he didn't dare turn around at fear of what he might see. Something grabbed his arm hard, tugging him around harshly, his arm exploding in pain.
His older brother's face glared back at him, flesh peeling and rotting as he grimaced at him.
"Where ya goin' little brother?" Merle grinned. "We're only just gettin' started."
…
Daryl jolted awake, breath coming in short gasps as he sat up, looking around wildly. His heart beat a sickly staccato as he slowly came to his senses, eyes roving over the worn car interior.
Sam was a dark outline slumped against the steering wheel, cheek pressed into the hard plastic, mouth slightly open. He was snoring gently, a strand of hair flicking up with every exhale.
A louder gurgle turned Daryl's head to the passenger seat, and he managed a slight smile at the other man sleeping there. Gabriel had shifted himself into an awkward position; head tilted back against the headrest and mouth open.
You're safe. Daryl scolded himself. Nuthin' but a bad dream. Nightmares at your age…
Daryl grabbed the scratchy blanket he had managed to kick off himself onto the car floor, wrapping it around his shoulders. The leather seat creaked noisily as he reached for the door, and he winced, expecting the noise to wake the two in the front seat. Neither stirred however, even when with a loud click, he swung the door open, sliding out.
The night air was cool against his sweaty skin, and Daryl breathed deeply, rubbing a hand against his temple. A beautifully clear inky black sky stretched above him, and he spared a quick glance at the twinkling stars above, before moving away from the car, further out into the field they had parked in.
The three were on their way to Wisconsin, and Daryl had never been this far North before. The flat cool plains were new to him, and he found himself unsettled. Must be why you've been havin' nightmares you big ol woman, just missin' home is all. Made sense he'd think of Merle, wondering if he was still out there or not, what his fate had been.
"Can't get away from you even now huh?" Daryl muttered into the night. "Figures."
He stood quietly, gathering his thoughts, feeling his heart rate flatten back into an even beat. He sighed, hanging his head. Seemed it would be another night of little sleep for him.
"Daryl?"
He jumped at the voice, still seeing dark shapes in his mind, but this voice wasn't threatening, or his brother. He turned to see Sam approaching him, body hunched over against the cool night air, hands buried in the pockets of a worn, blue hoodie.
"You ok?" The Winchester stopped in front of him, eyes worried.
It was still strange; someone actually caring 'bout him, and Daryl swallowed, shrugging nonchantly.
"Yeah. Just…couldn't sleep. I'll be ok."
Sam nodded thoughtfully, turning soulful eyes towards the night sky. "I have nights like that too sometimes. Dean says I think too much."
Daryl looked away, studying the dark grass underfoot. Sam looked so young in the dim moonlight, though he couldn't be much younger than Daryl himself; maybe a decade at a stretch. Daryl felt suddenly old and ugly next to the young man. They were so different, in every way, and it made him damn uneasy sometimes.
"How do you…stop thinkin'?" He asked quietly, daring a quick glance back at the taller man.
Sam shrugged his shoulders, turning amused brown eyes back to him.
"Used to be I'd try losing myself in something. Reading, researching…" He winked. "Girls."
Daryl wouldn't know much about that. He stayed silent, and Sam shifted from foot to foot. The young man was barefoot on the grass, it had to be chilly, but he made no move to head back to the warmth of the car.
"I used to…used to have a girlfriend." Sam admitted, and Daryl listened real hard at that. "Jessica. If one of us had trouble sleeping, we'd stay up talking. Plan out our future you know? It was all just talk but…it helped sometimes."
Daryl could imagine it.
Sam curled up in a big ol' bed with a beautiful girl. She'd be blonde, hair like the gold fields back home, with big gorgeous blue eyes and soft, pale smooth skin. She'd be all soft hands and delicate touches as they hid under the covers from the world, Sam's voice low, his rich laugh now and then breaking the silence, deep brown eyes crinkling. He probably made love to her, her hair spread out on a white pillow, all glimmering and golden, dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as he kissed her. They would have been two beautiful people moving together, just as it should be.
It made something hot churn in his stomach, something a lot like jealousy.
Daryl snapped himself out of it with a silent curse. What the hell was wrong with him? Fuck Dixon, get it together.
"What happened?" He murmured. Sam's eyes were sad then, and Daryl mentally kicked himself.
"She died."
Daryl groaned silently. Smooth, real smooth you asshole. Tearin' open a man's wound like that. Some friend you are.
Sam was looking back at the sky again, Adam's apple bobbing in the long column of his throat as he swallowed. "You ever been with anyone Daryl?"
If you count a few weeks of hell in prison, Daryl thought bitterly.
"Naw. That was always Merle's thing, not mine." He shifted uncomfortably. "Aint no good with girls. 'Fraid I'll break 'em."
His hands had always been too callused from a hard life, too clumsy and fumbling. Girls were all soft curves and smooth skin, where he was rough and scarred. No girl would ever be seen with him, and he couldn't blame 'em. Merle always said no-one would ever want him and after a while he started to believe it.
"I figured I weren't missin' much. Girls are all sorts a' trouble my pa used to say."
Sam chuckled. "You know girls can be pretty awesome if you find the right one."
"You'd know 'bout that." Daryl shot him a shy smile. "Bet you had to beat 'em off with a stick."
Sam's laugh was low, and Daryl's stomach did a weird flop. "I guess. Dean and I used to compete sometimes…seems kinda silly now. Not a whole lot of girls around anymore."
Daryl snorted, ignoring the quivering in his stomach. "Don't think he minds too much. Got himself an angel now."
"You have a point."
They were both quiet then, looking up at the night sky. Daryl ran a hand over his chin nervously, noting the stubble that had once again begun to grow. It weren't any of his business really but…dammit, he was curious. So far Sam had been nothin' but kind to him, and they were…friends. At least Daryl hoped they were. And…he needed to know.
"I wonder…" He said haltingly. "I mean…" He floundered for a moment, Sam merely looking over at him expectantly.
"We're friends right?" Daryl asked desperately. "I mean, I aint had many to compare to but…"
Shit, he shouldn't have said that. Now Sam would know what a fucked up weirdo he really was.
Sam just smiled. "Of course we are."
Something loosened in his throat, and Daryl smiled uncertainly. "So…we can talk about stuff. Without…you know, it bein' weird."
Sam chuckled again, making Daryl's stomach do that weird roll again. Goddamn he was addicted to that sound. "Just spit it out Daryl."
He took a deep breath. "I just…wonder what it's like. Two men…. You know…"
His cheeks reddened furiously as Sam laughed, throwing his head back.
"You think I know?" Sam asked amusedly, eyes bright in the dark.
Daryl ducked his head. "Sorry, I just..."
Sam shook his head, hands leaving the safe warmth of his hoodie pockets to wave at him quickly.
"No, no Daryl it's ok. I um…" Sam scratched the back of his head nervously.
"I guess I may have experimented a little bit in college. So I…" He shrugged helplessly. "It's no different than with a woman really. As long as the feelings are there. I guess men are…you know…harder and um…well women aren't…I uh…"
Both lapsed into an embarrassed silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Daryl scuffed the dirt with his shoes, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets.
"Was in prison once." He mumbled quietly. "Didn't much care fer it."
The insinuation behind his words was heavy, and Sam looked back up at him with questioning eyes. Daryl shrugged, eyes still carefully trained on the ground.
"Guess I never thought that people might actually like somethin' like that. But your brother and Castiel…" He was waiting for the pitying laughter, the Daryl, who could ever love you to start. He could hear his brother's voice now, laughing at him. Ignoring it, he pushed the words out; refusing to be stopped now he had mustered the courage to actually form the words.
"I guess I wanna know what that can be like. With…with someone who cares."
His heart was pounding against his ribcage so loudly he was sure Sam could hear it; blood roaring in his ears. Don't. Don't ruin this, just leave it there and walk away. Don't you dare say it, don't you-
"Like you." He whispered, ears burning with shame.
There was a long pause, and Daryl kept his eyes on the ground, eyes burning with the effort to not look up. He couldn't bear seeing the disgust on Sam's face. God what have I done, Merle was right shit I just ruin everythin'…
"Daryl. What…" Sam's voice was uncertain, and Daryl could hear him licking his lips nervously. His heart did a little lurch at that thought and he kept his eyes on the ground. "Do you…do you want me to…um…"
Daryl turned away, eyes closing briefly. "Forget it. I didn't mean nothin'." He said gruffly.
Great, he'd ruined another thing. Daryl the fuck up. Aint no-one gonna take care of you but me little brother. Who could ever want you?
Sam took a calming breath, and Daryl braced himself for the inevitable reaction, the yelling and shouting. Maybe Sam would hit him. Daryl wouldn't stop him.
Instead, there was a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him back around. Daryl found himself staring at Sam's feet, body thrumming with adrenaline; ready to run, to defend if it had to.
"Daryl." Sam's voice was quiet, and swallowing hard, Daryl slowly looked up. Sam was a tall man; a good head taller than him, and his eyes were soft and understanding as he looked down, no trace of disgust or anger. Daryl could only stare fearfully, half expecting the moment to suddenly end, for Sam to throw him away in disgust, realizing that he was a freak, that there was something wrong with him. As Merle had.
Sam seemed to be searching his face for something; a tip of a pink tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and Daryl followed the motion with wide eyes. Finding whatever he had been searching for, Sam offered him a small smile, eyes bright. Slowly, he leaned forward, his breath warm against Daryl's face, and the smaller man froze in disbelief.
"What are you doin'?" He asked fearfully. Can't be. No way. You can't really…
Sam paused, his face only an inch away. He smiled, and Daryl marveled at the amused affection in his dark eyes. Was that for him? Did he do that?
"Well, I was going to try and kiss you, but if you don't want to-mmph!"
With desperation, Daryl closed the distance between them before the taller man could change his mind, their teeth clacking together in his headlong lunge. Sam hissed, and Daryl panicked.
Shit, he had no idea what he was doing, what was he thinking?
A large hand rose to his cheek, holding him in place as Sam nipped his lower lip gently, bringing him back to himself.
"Let me. Close your eyes." He murmured, lips gentle.
Daryl followed his lead numbly, heart beating eagerly against his ribs. He could feel the firm line of Sam's mouth against his, lips moving slowly, before feeling the teasing swipe of a tongue against the seam of his lips. Daryl gasped in surprise, eyes shooting open and Sam took the opportunity to press inside, stealing a taste before withdrawing teasingly, tracing along his lower lip. Daryl closed his eyes again, concentrating on the sensation and following Sam's teasing touch with his own, and with a dull thrill realized he was really doing it. He was kissing someone. Shit, a man. And not just any man, Sam Winchester.
It was nothing like the bruising, punishing bites he had experienced in jail, and Daryl relaxed into the kiss, his chest pressing against Sam's more fully. He felt a hand tangle in his hair, tugging on the strands playfully, and Daryl smiled against Sam's mouth.
He blinked sluggishly as Sam pulled away slightly, grabbing the bottom of his hoody and pulling it up his torso gracefully along with the t-shirt beneath. Daryl could only stare at the expanse of tanned flesh revealed to him, eyes trailing over the defined chest and abdomen, brain short circuiting slightly as he followed the trail of downy dark hair angling down and behind the waistband of Sam's jeans. He was all long limbs and firm muscles; graceful like, and…well, beautiful.
"Uh…" Daryl croaked uncertainly, unable to stop gawping like an idiot. Sam grinned at him crookedly, eyes twinkling mischievously.
"You didn't think that was it did you?" At Daryl's dubious look, Sam's eyes softened and he held out a hand. "Don't worry. I just want to make you feel good."
Daryl took the offered hand slowly, allowing Sam to pull him a little ways away from the car, into the tall grass. He shot a worried glance behind him towards the car, before shrugging to himself. Gabriel could sleep through pretty much anything, and the last thing they needed was a mischievous archangel ruining the moment.
Sam turned back around, looking pointedly at Daryl's own sleeveless shirt.
His stomach was doing those stupid flip-flops again, and Daryl tried to ignore them, self-consciously pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it to the side. He wasn't as muscled as Sam was, but he weren't flabby either. He watched Sam's eyes trail over his torso, following the faded scars and bruises. Thankfully the taller man didn't comment on them, leaning in to capture his lips again, warm hands stroking down Daryl's clenching abdomen towards his jeans.
"Relax." Sam murmured against his lips, breath hot. "I'll take care of you."
Daryl shuddered as deft fingers dipped into his underwear; tracing the length of his stiffening dick. Aint never been like this before…
His tongue slid wetly against Sam's as the hunter finally grasped him firmly, and Daryl groaned against him, hands flying up to grip those rippling biceps firmly.
His knees buckled as Sam have him an experimental stroke. Sam grinned against his mouth, urging him towards the ground with a little push; the two sinking to the grass, Sam shuffling the smaller man onto his lap.
Daryl grunted as Sam twisted his hand on a downward stroke, thighs trembling as he settled more firmly, straddling Sam's hips. He could feel the erection nudging against him through the stiff fabric of his jeans, and unthinking, he twisted his hips down, rubbing against it.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Sam's eyes darkened, his grip faltering. A thrill of confidence made Daryl grin, and he did it again, enjoying the way Sam's breath hitched.
"On your back." The order was growled into his ear, and Daryl did as he was told, moving away from Sam to shuck his jeans down and off, kicking them away with his boots.
Sam leaned over him, eyebrow arching as he looked down between them. His hair hung in his eyes and Daryl tentatively reached up to brush it away. It was just as silky as he had imagined, and he rolled it between his fingers, hardly believing this was real.
"No underwear huh?" Sam smiled, pressing a gentle kiss against his wrist as Daryl's hand moved upward, running his fingers through the thick hair. Daryl shook his head, finding his voice had deserted him. Sam grinned at him again.
"Well you're just full of surprises Daryl Dixon."
Daryl threaded his fingers through Sam's hair, gripping more firmly as the hunter moved down his body, tracing a scar on his chest with a hot mouth and tongue. Daryl squirmed slightly as Sam drifted lower, mouthing along his abdomen and darting a teasing tongue into the dip of his bellybutton. Goddamn, is he really gonna-?
"Sam, you don't have t- oh shit!"
Sam had swallowed him down in one go; causing the smaller man to arch off the ground, fingers digging into that soft hair and holding on for dear life.
It was a hot heat engulfing him, and Sam flattened his tongue, allowing him deeper. Jesus H Christ this is …this is…
It felt….incredible. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut, panting into the night air as Sam sucked him; running that sinful tongue along the bottom ridge of his cock, sweeping up to tongue the head as the man single-mindedly set about undoing every last strand of sanity Daryl had.
It was nothing like that time in prison, and Daryl was so overwhelmingly, absolutely, relieved and goddamn grateful.
This wasn't even like those times Merle brought a girl home, all quick fumbles and tight yelping through the thin walls that separated Daryl's room for his brother's. This was…this was…
Daryl found words tumbling from his throat, nothing that made sense, just groans of pleasure accompanied by a litany of Sam, yes, yes, there, please…
Sam pulled off him with an obscene pop, crawling up his body. Daryl made a sound of protest, but then sighed in relief as he watched the man struggle out of his own jeans and underwear, tossing them somewhere out into the darkness. Sam hadn't changed his mind.
Daryl reached for him, running tentative hands up his flanks. Is this ok? Can…can I touch you? Sam's skin was warm, becoming slick with sweat despite the cool night air, and something powerful hummed inside Daryl. He had done that. Sam wanted him.
"Show me what to do." He whispered. "I wanna…I don't…"
Sam shushed him with another kiss, hand finding his in the darkness. Slowly, torturously, their hands dragged down his chest, Sam guiding the way.
He had to bite his lip as Sam wrapped their joined hands around their straining cocks, fingers dancing along them both. He could feel the slickness of his own length, easing the motion, and remembered with a fissure of want just where Sam had just been.
Daryl shuddered at the sensation, his head thrown back against the hard earth. Dry grass tickled his ears and neck but he didn't care, matching Sam's slick rhythm with his hips; thrusting up into their combined tight grips.
Sam settled more fully above him, bracing himself on his free arm as his right worked between them. Daryl craned his neck up to nudge his nose against Sam's cheek, a jolt of hot arousal shooting up his spine at the shuddering warm breath that fanned over his own cheek in response.
Sam turned his face, kissing him again, and this time Daryl opened his lips wide deliberately, surrendering to the larger man. He could taste something bitter along Sam's tongue, and his dick somehow managed to get harder as he realized it was him.
Sam groaned into the wet warmth of his mouth, hips jerking erratically. Hair, damp with sweat, trailed over Daryl's face, and pulling away from Sam's lips, he meshed the fingers of his free hand through it, holding on as Sam buried his face in Daryl's neck.
There was a gentle nip against his Adams apple, and Daryl gasped, eyes shooting open, his blood on fire.
"Come for me, Daryl." Sam growled against his neck, voice hitching.
With a muffled curse and prayer, Daryl did.
….
It was the bright sunlight that woke Sam up, and he threw an arm over his eyes, groaning. A warm presence shifted at his side, and grass tickled along his skin.
"You alright?" A worried voice asked. Sam turned his head, opening his eyes to find Daryl's worried face near his. His hair was at crazy angles, tufts of grass poking out here and there, and all around them the tall grass had been flattened in a parody of a crop circle.
His eyes were fearful, and Sam felt the same surge of affection he had felt last night at the man's admission. It was that same look of fear; fear of rejection, of being abused, of being left alone. Never again.
Sam smiled, leaning his face forward to press a kiss against Daryl's surprised mouth.
"Yeah. I'm good." He sat up with a wince, stretching his arms above his head. Daryl stared at him, baffled, as Sam arched his back like a cat, cracking his back before relaxing, yawning widely.
"Urgh ground is not a good substitute for a bed. Next time, no grass."
There was a chuckle from further out in the field, and Sam scrambled to his feet at the sound.
"Oh-ho, so there will be a next time huh? I'm definitely getting front row seats to that one."
"Gabriel!" Sam shouted. "You bastard."
The angel stood near the car, smirking as he eyed the two naked men with leering eyes. He held Sam's jeans in one hand, dangling them tantalizingly off one finger as the taller man scrambled to cover himself, cupping his hands over his groin.
"Well don't let me ruin the party kids." He waggled his eyebrows at the two cringing humans. "Heck I invented partying."
Sam was glowering darkly at the angel, deciding to forgo modesty to cross his arms angrily.
"Give my jeans back you dick." He warned. Gabriel smiled, tongue curling behind his teeth.
"Or what Sammy? You'll….poke me?" he winked suggestively eyes roving down towards Sam's groin. "In fact that sounds like fun to me. Please do."
Sam raged at the angel, voice loud and scandalized as Daryl leaned up on his elbows, watching the two.
As embarrassed as he probably should be at this whole situation, Daryl couldn't help but laugh.
Underneath the archangel's snarky exterior as he traded insults with a furious Sam, was a man just as lonely and broken as Daryl was. Took one to know one or some shit. Figures they'd all end up together.
He sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Quit it you two. This aint how I planned on spendin' my mornin'."
The two paused, turning curious looks to him, and Daryl sank back down to the ground, shrugging at the now blue sky.
"I say fuck it." Sam's eyebrows were practically in his hairline as Daryl looked over at him, Gabriel looking just as confused.
Daryl nodded over at the archangel, uncaring about modesty, or what was considered normal. Sam had given him something last night, and he wasn't about to deny it to someone just as in need of it as he was.
"Now you, quit your playin' and git your ass over here'. I got a lot of missed time to make up for and-"
Sam had never seen the archangel move so fast. One minute he was standing a ways away, Sam's jeans held hostage, the next he was kneeling in the grass above Daryl, hands already shucking off his shirt before Sam's jeans had even hit the ground where he had dropped them.
Sam blinked in confusion.
"What….but he…" He spluttered. The two on the ground paused, looking over at him with twin expressions of exasperation.
"Well it's a bit late to be a prude now Samantha." Gabriel grinned, pulling his shirt all the way off and tossing it at him. Sam scowled as the shirt hit him square in the face, tugging it away, ready to give the archangel a piece of his mind.
He paused as his eyes met Gabriel's. There was something desperate in those eyes, an aching loneliness like he had seen in Daryl's just last night. Great, I'm collecting strays.
Sam sighed heavily, grumbling as he moved back towards them. "Fine. But no lamas this time ok?"
The angel grinned, eyes sparkling with happiness. "Deal."
He reached out tentatively as Sam sank down beside the two of them, fingers just brushing the anti-possession tattoo inked into the tanned skin. Sam grabbed the hand in his, tugging the slighter man against him, noses brushing against each other as they stared each other down.
"Why don't I trust you?" He muttered as Gabriel leaned into him, arms twining around his neck sensuously; the archangel molding himself along Sam's front. The jerk was practically purring.
"You will, Sammy-boy."
Sinfully sweet lips found his, and Sam forgot his annoyance. Daryl's callused hand was trailing against his thigh, the man pressing kisses against his hip and for a while, Sam forgot pretty much everything.
Fin.
…..
THUS ENDETH THE RANDOM PORN. I'm not even sorry. :P