Warning: Art: Mature / Fic: Explicit
Summary: A coda to episode 14.13 “Lebanon” set in the AU from the epic 300th episode, Sam is an ultra-rich internet-famous tech corporate lawyer that sends the best criminal defense lawyer in the country to get Dean out of his jam with the FBI. Within a few days of being released from FBI custody (with an apology!), Dean is sitting in the living room of Sam’s Napa estate when he gets home from a day down in the Valley (Silicon Valley) that is. Let the awkward reunion begin…
Story: AO3 / LiveJournal
The steaks were done to perfection, and the kale salad had been tossed in the balsamic dressing, crumbles of fresh goat cheese and Greek olives glistening on top. Dean sat at the outdoor table, he’d been watching him man the grill the whole time. Sam wondered if Dean would go overboard into grilling like the manly stereotype that was out there. He placed the grill plate on the table and seated himself, the wine had been opened but not poured, he filled their glasses...
The movement sensitive lights automatically came on as he entered the enormous living room. And it was like there was a bright spotlight over the one comfortable chair in the space, because that chair was filled. And the person who was sitting there, shouldn’t be—couldn’t be. Because he was not part of Sam’s life. He hadn’t been for fourteen years.
He watched as Dean hunched up his shoulders against the chill of the morning, shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled off down the driveway that curved almost as much as that dearly familiar curve to his bowlegs. The one that Sam had sketched and made into his company’s logo, combined with the beautiful curve of Dean’s ass.
He smiled as he remembered using the OriginLab software to calculate those curves, importing them into Adobe Illustrator and then sending the finished design off to his own lawyer, asking for the copyright. Yeah, that’s right he had found a way to copyright Dean’s ass.
He switched his hips a bit more than absolutely necessary, wondering if Dean would take it as an invitation to follow him. He’d undressed and was under the water, washing off the day as part of his nighttime ritual was part of his routine that he wasn’t letting Dean upset. Then he felt the air change as the bathroom door opened and closed. Dean’s hands slicked their way across his back and down to rest at the top of his ass.
“Goddamn do you look good, Sammy,” Dean said. “Feel so damn good in my hands, like this.”
Sam leaned back into Dean’s strong hands, relishing the hold he had on his body, that he was strong enough to hold them both up. He rested there and soaked it up for a moment. Dean was really here. This was really happening.