I do not own Supernatural :(

It was dark out, when Sammy came home from the bar. I could hear the thunder rolling throughout the clouds like a bowling ball, smashing and crashing against the sky. I remember sitting in a chair against the window, drinking some whiskey from a small snifter.

He pulled up a chair next to me, and although he tried valiantly to avoid eye contact, I could tell he had something to say.

"Spit it out, Sammy. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," I muttered grimly.

His hazel eyes met mine in the darkness, and from behind the candlelight I could see the agony in them. He shook his head and sat back in the chair.

He cleared his throat three times before he finally leaned forward on his knees and sighed.

"Dean's out. For the night," He whispered.

Even though I'd expected that response, even though that very thought had meandered through my mind hours before after Dean had stormed out, the pain didn't lessen.

It didn't even budge.

Because 'Dean is out for the night,' was code for Dean's fucking someone else.

The idea, the thought, the cold and harsh reality of those five words was absolutely heartbreaking. I nodded my head slowly, unable to form any words, but Sam reached for me anyways.

His touch only made me flinch, not because I didn't appreciate the gesture, but because I didn't want anyone to see just how badly that hurt me.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry."

I shook my head again, taking a second to gently pat his hand that was currently resting on my thigh.

"Stop, it's okay.

"The hell it is okay! Scarlett, he's your-," I stopped him with a hand over his lips.

"My what? My man? My lover? Promises don't tend to mean much to your brother, not in the romantic sense. I'll be okay," I said with a small smile only for Sam.

Don't cry.

He would fuss, and he would worry, and tomorrow when Dean wandered in he would undoubtedly chew his ass. But that isn't what I wanted.

I just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from the pain, hide from Dean, hide from the embarrassment.

"What'd she look like?," I asked.

I knew what sam was looking for.

Emotion, turmoil, any sign that I was not okay.

So I kept my voice even, my gaze on the storm outside.

"Come on, you don't really want to know what she looked like."

Of course not, but if I'm gonna let him go for good, I need to know.

"Blonde? Big tits? Nice ass? I'm guessing she was about three reading levels below both and you and I," I said nonchalantly.

Sam winced, shook his head, reached for me. He stopped midway, instead choosing to tuck his hand back down against his thigh.

But I couldn't just let it go- I had to pry.

"Did he even mention me tonight?," I whispered hopelessly.

Yet I knew the answer to that question too.

I kept my breathing even, although it felt like hell to do so.

"Scarlett, it shouldn't matter. What does matter is that he's out there with her instead of here with you. You matter," Sam said vehemently.

But did I?

Did I really matter?

Sure, we could blame this behavior on the mark currently singing the very edges of Dean's soul as it rested on his perfect skin.

Or we could say that his time as a demon tainted him forever; neither excuse would be far off.

Neither excuse would make what he's done disappear, though.

As Sam ducked his head and leaned back in his chair, he slid another glass towards him and filled it to the brim. The amber liquid swirled around his glass like the pain swirled around inside my chest and I swallowed what remained inside of my own glass before I sucked in a harsh breath.

"Answer me something."
I nodded my head to let him know I was listening.

"If I told you that it wasn't the first time he's done this, would it make a difference?"

I winced at that information.

Would it?

Once is enough, isn't it?

"What difference would you like it to make? All I can think about right now is how badly it hurts, and honestly, that's all that matters."

Sam's hazel eyes met mine and suddenly they were alight with something I've never seen before.

Something I didn't recognize, because in all my days as Dean's 'woman,' he never really saw me. He saw a warm body, an able mouth, a sharp mind.

"You think it doesn't fuckin' kill me to see you like this? Do you honestly think I wanted to come home and hurt you like this?," Sam hissed.

His chest heaved and he suddenly sat forward again, spilling whiskey across the back of his hand. His strong, kind, and capable hand.

"Dean's never treated you the way you deserve. Not once, Scarlett. I've been here to see it all. To hear you cryin' in your room. Believe me, I know just how charming he can be- he's my brother and I would die for him. But he ain't in his right mind anymore, and I don't want you holding on to something that may never be," Sam said.

I knew that Sam was right, but he hadn't taken that angry tone with me-well- ever.

"You didn't have to tell me the truth," I whispered lamely.

Sam always told me the truth.

That was why we were so close.

He scoffed and slammed his glass down onto the table hard enough to spill the rest of his whiskey before he stood abruptly.

I watched the now empty glass roll right off of the table and shatter on the hard floor. The sound of the glass breaking, much like my heart had, made me flinch.

"Damn it, and do what? Huh? Leave you sitting out here all night? Come on, you know better. You have to know better by now," Sam practically begged.

Turning, I faced him, confused as hell.

I moved out of my chair, setting my bare feet onto the floor. I side stepped the broken glass on my way towards him.

The long skirt I wore skated across the carpet silently and I ran my damp palms along the soft material.

"Sam, talk to me. You can't be this upset because Dean cheated on me."

Those large hands of his ran through his long hair and when he turned to look into my eyes, I thought he would burn me with his intensity.

"Dean's better than me in a lot of ways."

I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. I've fucked up so many times, and he always saves my ass. He's a great friend, a great brother, but he's a shit partner when it comes to relationships. I'm not," Sam said fiercely.

Not what?

A cheater?

A liar?

The thunder clapped behind me, and I jumped, sending myself directly into Sam's strong chest. He caught me easily, using those strong and capable hands to maneuver me closer to him.

The height difference between us was almost comical, but he wasn't laughing when he reached forward to tuck hair behind my ear.

"I would never hurt you," He whispered as his gaze searched mine.

"I don't understand," I admitted softly.

His hazel eyes smiled just like his perfect mouth did when he ducked his head and looked at me confidently.

I was so confused, still aching inside, but Sam didn't seem to mind as he pressed his mouth to mine.

Boom.

Loud like thunder, hot like lightning.

I froze, completely shocked, but he tasted good. Like honey whiskey and mint and something all Sam.

His fingers wove into my hair as he tipped my head back and slanted his warm, soft, lips over mine. It was decadent, it was hot, it was everything I never knew I was missing.

His strong arms wrapped around me tightly, and he lifted me onto the tops of his boots as he deepened the kiss.

His breath was warm against mine as I wrapped my arms around him, hoping like hell, that he wouldn't ever let go.

Here in his arms all of my broken pieces seemed to fit back together.

It felt better.

Please, please, don't let go.

"I won't," He whispered raggedly as he lifted me into his arms, perching my legs around his taut waist.

I hadn't realized I'd spoken out loud, but it didn't matter.

Sammy wasn't letting go, no, he was reverently sliding one hand down into the valley of my breasts as he searched my eyes.

"Tell me you want me to touch you," He demanded.

Yes.

I need it.

Like an inferno, he was white hot, he was fucking hell on earth.

Lucifer.

He really is Lucifer.

"Yes."

His skin was practically melting against mine as I nodded and he tugged my head back by the hair at the nape of my neck. I was panting his name, tugging his t-shirt over his head.

He threw it behind him and I took the time to explore his skin in a way I never had; in a way I'd never dreamt of.

I hadn't ever planned on sleeping with one Winchester, let alone two, but this felt different.

He slid two hot palms against the globe of my ass as he tucked my skirt up and around my waist. Those sturdy fingers slid into the seam of my panties, right where he was making me soaked and achy.

I could tell by the way he was touching me that this wasn't the same thing that happened between me and Dean. Sam was taking his time, sipping on my skin like a man dying of thirst, like he couldn't get enough of me.

His mouth was back on mine, and like the sun rising in the east, he dipped his tongue into my mouth and made me gasp like it was always meant to happen. Like he was meant to be mine, even if for just a night.

My skin was tingling, I was hot to the touch- I was wet.

I wanted Sam's hands exactly where they were, right between my legs.

He paused at the waistband of my skirt, looking at me for my permission.

"I need to fucking taste you, Scar. Let me taste you," He whispered as he kissed me.

"I'll die if you don't," I replied, tugging on his hair hard enough to earn a bite to my lip.

Pulling away, he slowly slid my skirt to the floor. I stepped out of it for him but he didn't give me any time to move- he lifted me easily and laid me out on the table.

I could feel the whiskey he'd spilled against my flushed skin, but Sam just took a moment to smirk before he leaned forward to lick it from neck.

The feeling of his tongue on my bare skin was pure heaven, which was surely a contradiction to the very man touching me.

Like a child opening his first Christmas present, Sam spread my thighs wide and groaned.

"You smell fucking delicious," He murmured as he began to lick and nip at the quivering flesh of my thighs.

His facial scruff was rough against my soft skin but it felt so damn good all I could do was huff out a moan of my own as he neared my center.

My fingers fell into that glorious hair and I tugged relentlessly as he slid my panties to the side and licked the seam of my pussy.

A strangled groan left my lips as I palmed my own nipple, so aroused, so sensitive.

Sam took his sweet time, glancing up at me as he sucked my tiny button into his mouth and licked it.

Oh, God.

So good.

"You look so fucking sexy, Scarlett. Better than I could have imagined," Sam whispered as he stroked me with his talented tongue, like I was his favorite flavor of ice cream.

He likes chocolate chip cookie dough.

My thighs fell open wider, allowing him better access.

I heard a rip and felt a jerk and then my panties were gone altogether and Sam's tongue was deep inside of me.

My back arched of its own accord, bringing me closer to him.

Just when I thought I would explode altogether, just when I thought the steady dip and slide of Sam's tongue would do me in, he sucked my button into his mouth again and dipped two fingers into my tight pussy. His fingers curled inside of me to meet my g-spot and that was it, I lost it.

Tugging on his hair far harder than I meant to, his name fell from my mouth as my body exploded with an overwhelming orgasm.

Yet Sam didn't quit touching me, no, he milked every after shock of my orgasm with his mouth and fingers until I lay spent and shaking on the hard wooden table beneath me.

"Damn that was hot," he whispered, taking my mouth with his. His soft tongue met mine as he pulled me closer to him by my hips, keeping my thighs spread wide as he moved to stand between them. Still shirtless but now sticky with sweat his body was perfect.

I couldn't stop touching him even if I'd wanted to, he made me so fucking aroused I was surprised I remembered my own name.

The rough texture of his jeans rubbed against my sensitive clit and I rubbed myself against him shamelessly.

His hazel eyes were hazy and filled with lust as he pulled back slightly.

"Please," I whispered.

"What, baby? What do you want?"

"You, please."

He smiled, only slightly, as he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly. Like the lights had been turned on, he ducked his head. This kiss, it was different than before, different than the way he'd kissed me only moments before.

I hadn't seen that expression on his face before.

"Not yet."

With one last kiss to my mouth, Sam left me alone in the library, panting and naked.