Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8767150.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, During_Canon
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-10-03 Words: 514
****** Bruises ******
by darkhavens
Summary
     Dad was gone, and Dean needed Sam. Could he be enough?
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.

Author's notes: Written for challenge #57 at the livejournal community
slashthedrabble.
Pre-read by Literati.
===============================================================================
The bruises on Sam's back sang with every breath but he couldn't quite bring
himself to move onto his side. They grounded him, reminded him that this was
real, that Dean was in the bed next to his; they were together again.
So, maybe the marks this time were made for different reasons, but - Dean had
touched him, twice now. The first time, back ho… back there, with painful blows
and tight grips, and then again, later, on the bridge, all flash and fury.
But it was real - he shifted, feeling every inch of purpling skin - not just
another dream that turned to dust on waking. This time Dean was close enough
that Sam could hear him breathe, slow, deep sighs that left Sam shivering in
the moonlight.
Fighting the urge to reach out - to touch, to wake, to beg - Sam pressed hungry
fingertips into the fresh marks on his thighs, and remembered.
Sweat-soaked, limbs quivering with welcome, enforced tension, fingers locked in
spasm around the headboard bars - Sam was in heaven, but also in hell.
"Tell me."
Dean's hands clamped tighter on the backs of Sam's thighs, fingers buried
knuckle-deep in muscle.
He thrust hard, eyes locked on Sam's in a relentless battle of wills.
"Tell me - you're -not- going - to college."
Even as his body arched into every frantic thrust, Sean bit his tongue and
refused to give his brother the words that longed to slip free.
"Say it!"
Hipbones clashed, locked, slid, and then Dean shifted, freeing one hand to
strip Sam's cock with knowing ease.
"Can't leave us… Can't leave me. Can't -leave - this!"
Sam's eyes screamed as he came, his knuckles sharp through skin as white as
paper, fingers trying to drill new holes into old oak boards.
Dean followed him over the precipice, riding out the spasms as Sam's internal
muscles fluttered and clenched around his cock. One more thrust. Two. A third,
and he was done, collapsing to one side, half-covering Sam, who didn't mind at
all.
Sam opened his mouth, finally willing to say, 'You were right. I can't leave
you. I love you.'
The sound of a key turning in the front door sealed his fate, as Dean's
reaction locked his mouth tighter than before.
In seconds his brother was up and off the bed, shimmying into sweatpants and
the shirt he'd tossed away with unholy glee not an hour before.
"Dad's home! Gotta see how it went."
And he was gone, leaving Sam tangled in damp sheets, sweat and come drying on
his skin. Alone.
He'd never come first.
Their dad, the hunt, even the mother he couldn't quite remember - all of that
was more important to Dean than he would ever be. He couldn't live like that.
Come dawn he was gone.
Sam bit his fist and shuddered his way to climax, joints locked to keep the
motel bed from shrieking out his secret.
Was it different now?
Dad was gone, and Dean needed him.
Could he be enough?
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