Fic: Home is Where the Hand is

[majestic_duxk]

Title: Home is Where the Hand is
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: M
Word Count: 2450
Kinks/Warnings: omega!dean, alpha!sam, omega verse, spanking, nonsexual spanking, crying!dean, uncertain!dean, domestic, traditional abo, otk spanking, implement: hand, no sex
Summary: There’s an adjustment period to every relationship. Sam’s is willing and able to help Dean adjust to the change in theirs.

a/n this was written the spn_spanking challenge with the prompt “stability/instability’. Many thanks to CinntaxError for the super speedy beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own. I don’t own the characters, but I sure enjoy playing


Nursing his beer, Sam’s tracked Dean. Not for the first time, he wondered if Dean had a death wish. Was there any other reason he would strut around and flirt with literally anyone that talked to him? Although the beta Dean had cornered certainly looked like they needed rescuing, but Dean was having fun.

If Dean had been an alpha, he would have been beaten to a pulp by now, but because he was an omega - and an obviously claimed one - the response was mainly indulgent. At least towards Dean. There were a few looks sent his way - after all, it was obvious to all that Dean was his - so Sam should be pulling him into line. And maybe they had a point. Did Dean really need to be indulged? Now that he was finally and properly claimed, he should be behaving with more decorum. Not just because he was mated now, but because he was mated to Sam.

Unbidden, a smile graced his lips. His. Dean was his claimed omega. Part of him still couldn't believe it, and for as long as he lived (if not longer) that thought would still be something sweet and special.

As soon as Sam had known what mates were - no. Before. Before he’d known what mates were, he'd wanted Dean. Not... not to fuck and claim. That came later. No, Sam's earliest memories were just wanting to make Dean happy and to keep him safe. To love him.

And when Dean had presented as an omega? It was like the fates agreed, that Dean was meant to be Sam’s. In fact, the only one who had been surprised was Dean. While he struggled with his presentation, John had just clapped him on the back, gotten him birth control and upped his self-defence training, while Sam had strutted around for the better part of a month, because this was how things were meant to be. He would be an alpha, then he could claim Dean, and they could live happily ever after.

Then life did what it always did: fucked up everything Sam wanted. Sam watched as day after day, year after year Dean covered himself with layers of defiance and bravado, becoming hardened and closed off, unwilling and unable to be the treasured omega he was born to be.

It broke Sam's heart. No one should have to live like that, especially no one who was wonderful as Dean. Everything in Sam told him that Dean needed an alpha: someone to hold him, care for him, to love him. And Sam desperately wanted to be that alpha. So he'd made a plan, one that had crashed and burned spectacularly when Dean laughed off Sam's pleas to leave their dad, to come to Stanford and start a new life.

"I'm not some princess, Sam. I'm a fuckin' hunter. It's in the blood. And no one or anything is going to change that. I can't be what you want Sam. Not now, not ever."

But Dean was a princess, and unable to rescue him, Sam had gone to Stanford, alone, knowing this might be the last time he ever saw his brother. But then Dean was back in his life, and somehow it was worse than before. In only three years all hints of the gentle omega Sam remembered, imagined, were gone.

"We're hunters, Sam. Alpha and omega don't matter. It's nothin' but the hunt." Dean informed him.

It didn't matter that in moments of stillness, Dean's eyes showed his pain and grief. It didn't matter that when they slept, separated by nothing but an arm’s length it was all Sam could do not to reach across and gather Dean in his arms, make him realise what he was, what Sam was. What they could be. It didn’t matter.

And then they'd found the bunker.

At first it meant nothing. There was no point getting used to comforts. All it did was taunt Sam with a future he could never have, so he refused to even consider the stay as permanent. It just hurt too much.

But somehow, somehow in between hunts, Dean had turned it into a home. Their home.

With somewhere constant to return to, Dean’s omega instincts kicked in. It started so small that Sam hadn't noticed. It would have been surprising if Dean had realised. After all, what was a new roasting pan? Or a couple of throw pillows on a couch big enough for the two of them to snuggle. A house plant. Individually, it was nothing, yet somehow, between one breath and the next, Dean's covert nesting had changed everything.

Changed enough that he’d willingly bared his throat and presented his ass, and Sam couldn’t resist - didn’t want to! And now it was his mark Dean’s neck, his knot in Dean’s ass, and hopefully one day, his pups in Dean’s belly, he wanted nothing more than to build their life. He wanted his beautiful omega to be pampered and spoiled and happy in his home.

But they couldn’t do that if they were hunting. And every time they packed up for another hunt, Sam felt like a part of himself was being left behind. He felt off balance: home represented stability, and Sam missed it.

Sam sat upright, spilling his beer. If he was struggling, how the fuck was Dean managing? Now that Dean had a home, his omega side had come out. He was soft, seeking Sam's touch and approval. Sam's Dean bared his throat, and fluttered his eyelashes, and rode Sam until they were a sweaty come covered mess and-

Biting off a groan, Sam hastily swallowed the rest of his drink. Now was not the time to be thinking of that. Things had to be different when they were hunting. Sam knew that. But…

What would happen if we just let this go? Sam mused. The earth would keep turning, wouldn’t it? There were other hunters to fill their shoes. So what if he and Dean retired. They could be happy...

Sam’s eyes returned to Dean, just in time to see him turn and plant his ass on the lap of the beta he’d been teasing. And really? Dean knew exactly how Sam would react to that.

~o~

The beta looked terrified, and really? Sam couldn’t blame her. A huge alpha was powering towards her, the mate of the one who was happily wriggling on her lap. Dean was a goddamn menace, Sam decided as he waved away two concerned alphas, hauling Dean up and away from the poor girl.

“Oh. Heya, Sammy! This is-”

“Say goodbye, please, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth snapped shut, and he cocked his head. “I haven’t played-”

“You’ve played quite enough.” Sam could hear the murmurs of agreement from around them. “Now say goodbye, and we’ll-”

“No.”

Sam had two choices.

“Wait, Sammy! I-”

With one quick movement, Sam had Dean bent over his thigh, his toes barely touching the ground. Letting his hand fall with quick succession - four, five, six - times, he righted Dean, holding his elbow until he got his balance.

There was a quietly approving feel to the room, although Dean was looking at him like he was the biggest monster he’d ever seen. (Sam knew that was not the case. He knew most of the monsters Dean had met).

Holding out one hand imperiously, he beckoned. “Come, Dean. We’re heading home.”

~o~

The drive back to the motel was a quiet one. Sam stopped every one of Dean’s conversational sallies, with a quiet, “When we’re back at the room.”

Rolling into their parking space, Sam switched off the engine and Dean was already out of the car. Given Sam had the key, he waited just a fraction longer than he had to, and was rewarded with a pouting Dean as he came up the stairs.

“Took your time-”

“When we’re back in the room, Dean.” Sam couldn’t back down on this one. During the quiet drive home, he’d realised that Dean was pushing for a response. Sam was more than happy to give him one.

Guiding Dean through the door, Sam stood him in the middle of the room before backing away. Sitting on the bed, he crossed his arms and regarded his mate with a steady eye. Biting his lip, Dean shuffled on the spot, but he didn’t speak.

“I’m not happy with you, Dean.”

Flushing, Dean looked at the floor.

Even the tips of Dean’s ears were red, and although it was absolutely adorable, Sam had to get to the bottom of this. It wasn’t going to happen again.

"I'm pretty sure I've figured out what was going on, but perhaps you'd like to explain it to me?"

If Dean’s deer-in-the-headlights expression was anything to go by, he definitely did not want to explain anything. Under Sam's silent scrutiny, his mouth opened a few times, and his fists clenched, before looking at the floor. He obviously had no idea where to start.

So Sam took pity on him - this was for them both after all. Leaning forward, he grasped Dean’s wrists, pulling him forward. When his thighs rested between Sam's knees, Dean looked up. Sam’s breath caught at the sad look on his mates eyes.

"Words have always been hard, haven't they, Dean? So how about I help you."

Dean nodded.

Sam frowned, gathering his thoughts. “I’m strict at home.” Ok, that was a given. Sam liked rules, and he liked it when Dean followed them. And Dean seemed to like it to. “And we both like that.” Taking Dean’s blush as a yes, Sam continued. “But we don’t have any clear rules for hunts. You’ve always taken the lead, and that worked fine. But now I’m your alpha…”

And then it was all clear. Dean wanted exactly what Sam wanted.

“Now I’m your alpha you want me to act like it, but instead of using your words, you decided to act like a brat, and try and make me jealous."

Dean couldn't look at Sam as he nodded again. Relaxing. Sam knew what he needed to do - wanted to do.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Dean. I know that was hard. Is there Anything you want to tell me before we deal with this?"

"I didn't actually mean to make you jealous."

"So you sat in that poor beta’s lap because..?" Sam's voice trailed of inquiringly. Dean flushed again.

"Like, I was ok with making you jealous. But that wasn't the aim. I just wanted... I wanted your attention."

"Oh, Dean." Sam's voice was sad as he wrapped his long arms around Dean's waist and pulled him close. "You always have my attention. Don't you realise you're my everything? The moon, the stars, the sun, they have nothing on you, Dean. You are my life."

The intense honesty in Sam's voice was obviously too much, as, cupping Sam's jaw, Dean silenced him with a kiss. Dean's lips were gentle, but Sam's weren't. He surged forward, catching Dean off guard. Falling to the side, Sam's leg slotted over him, pinning his hips to the bed. And then his mouth was on his, all teeth and tongue, reminding Dean of what he’d missed.

All too soon, Sam’s mouth left him. As Dean blinked, one side of Sam’s mouth tilted. That was all the warning he had before his shoes were pulled off, and his clothes roughly removed and he was back somehow over Sam’s knee, in a very familiar position.

“Sam?”

If his voice broke a bit, Sam didn’t mention it. Instead his hand rubbed soothingly over Dean’s behind. He couldn’t help clenching a little. The touch was gentle, but that would soon change.

“It’s ok, Dean,” Sam soothed. “I want you to remember that you can always ask for what you want. If you want to take the lead on hunts, we can do that. You’re a damn fine hunter, and this, us, doesn’t change that. And if you…” Sam trailed off. Was now the right time to mention this? Was there ever going to be a good time, Sam thought wryly, before continuing firmly. “And if you want to give up hunting, we can talk about that, but that is later. Right now, we are dealing with your naughty behaviour.”

Sam enjoyed Dean’s embarrassed little wriggle on his lap, before laying resting his hand on the curve of Dean’s ass.

He could feel Dean’s shallow breathing, and rubbed soothing circles on his upturned ass, waiting until he lay relaxed before bringing his hand down firmly. It made a satisfied smack.

“Please tell me, in your own words, why we are doing this.”

Sam may have had a touch of sadist in him. While Dean didn’t love spankings, history had shown they settled him. That’s what this was before. Recent history had also shown that Dean was terrible at talking about anything approaching a feeling. Sam was going to get the words out of Dean.

“Sam-my…”

There was more than a touch of whine in Dean’s tone. Sam laid three more firm swats down on Dean’s behind.

“Please answer the question, Dean.”

There was a defiant silence, but Sam was ok with that. He knew who had the most patience.

It took all of thirty seconds.

“I… Instead of telling you… I felt… stuff… I… at the bar I didthatthing even though Iknewyouwouldn’t like it but I should have saidsomething.”

It was a garbled mess that would never hold up in a court of law. Luckily, there was only Sam, and it would do.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Placing one hand across Dean’s back, Sam pulled his other hand back and let if fall with percussive regularity on Dean’s buttocks. Left, two, three, four, right, two, three, four. It was relaxing actually: the voluptuous bounce of Dean’s ass beneath his palm, the broken breaths, as Dean tried to control himself. And more importantly, even though he was in obvious discomfort, he could feel Dean relaxing over his lap.

It wasn’t too much longer before Dean’s broken sobs reached his ear, and Sam let his hand fall one last time on each pert buttock, before lightly resting it on the reddened flesh. Sam wavered. Did Dean need to talk more? Should he send him to the corner to think about it? Or should he-?

“S-S-Sammy?”

The broken little words decided him. Pulling Dean up, and careful of his sore behind, Sam gathered him into his arms. At which point Dean broke down, sobbing into his chest. Holding Dean close, stroking his hair, and murmuring sweet nothings, Sam was happy.

Although he’d be happier when they got back to the bunker. They both would.