Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10177295.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Other(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Incubus_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Underage_Sex, Dubious_Consent,
      Sibling_Incest, Inspired_by_Roleplay/Roleplay_Adaptation
  Collections:
      Devil's_Gate:_A_Supernatural_Slash_Roleplay_Archive
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-03-19 Completed: 2009-10-25 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 69659
****** Incubus ******
by Ithiel_Dragon, virtualpersonal
Summary
     Sam and Dean are left alone in Georgia in the middle of the summer
     while John is away on a hunt, and unfortunately the brothers haven't
     been getting along lately. Sam's moodiness, and Dean's temper (not to
     mention his crush on his own brother) are not helping matters. Things
     get even more complicated when Dean is attacked by an Incubus.
Notes
     Story uploaded by Ithiel Dragon. This was a roleplay story I was
     involved in several years ago on a forum called Devil's Gate. Ithiel
     Dragon played Dean Winchester, and some other characters. Virtual
     Personal (as Cas) played Sam Winchester, and some other characters. I
     am posting this story in its entirety and unedited. The page breaks
     are where the author changed. Maybe one day I will go back and edit
     it into a more proper story format, but don't hold your breath. I'm
     mostly posting this story here so I don't lose it. I still think its
     a pretty good read the way it is, but it is still obviously a
     roleplay. You've been warned.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Sam sat down on the crumbling steps of the house they’d rented for the past six
months, arms looped around his knees, his freakishly long legs stretched out so
his feet hit the ground. He rested his chin on top of his knees as he watched
through dark, unhappy eyes, his brother helping their dad pack the truck. Just
by the number of bags and supplies going in, he could tell it was gonna be a
long trip.

At this moment, he hated both of them. Dad couldn’t wait a couple of days
before he hit the road, couldn’t keep his promise to take him somewhere special
on his birthday. Unimportant things had a way from slipping from his dad's
mind, when but when it came to identifying demons and knowing weapons, his mind
was a steel trap. Sam couldn’t remember the last time they’d celebrated his
birthday on the right day, but he remembered all the completely forgotten ones.
He blinked away the tears that threatened to come. So what if dad had just
nodded when he’d tried to show him his report card? “Good job, son.” How the
hell would he know? He hadn’t even looked and had carelessly let the paper fall
on the floor as he strode outside. Guess it didn’t mean much that Sam had made
up three months of missed school and ended up with straight A’s, even in his AP
classes. Nah, that was nothing when he still couldn’t shoot as well as Dean had
at his age, and didn’t show half his excitement at the prospect of hunting.
Sam made a face, looking back into the house where the scrap of paper still lay
on the ground with the imprint of the sole of John’s or Dean’s boot. He felt
like tearing the report card up into shreds, and he would... later, when he had
the energy to get up. It was so freaking hot and sticky he thought he wanted to
die. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he probably needed a cut.
His gaze went back to Dean who was laughing about something now. Usually, the
sight of his brother laughing made him want to smile, but not today. He’d asked
Dean if he could go camping with some of the other kids at school, but big
brother had nixed that idea for no reason. None. It wasn’t as if Sam couldn’t
take care of himself ten times better than any of the other kids who got to go.
But no... when their dad was gone, Dean’s word was law.
He’d begged. He’d even gone so far as to suggest Dean take a couple days off or
rearrange his work schedule and come with them to the lake. That way, he could
keep an eye on him, if it had to be that way. Dean hadn’t budged. Yeah... so
Sam was gonna be stuck here, in the heat, no air conditioning, nothing, just
because Dean said ‘no.” Some way to spend summer vacation. Summer hell.
He heard his dad call, and refused to look up at first. The second time John
Winchester barked his name, Sam’s face jerked toward him. He wouldn’t get up,
not unless his dad made him. Instead, he merely gave a limp wave, even as his
brother’s eyes drilled holes through him. Neither of the two men at the truck
cared what he wanted or thought, so why should he care about what they thought?
He had to fight a bit harder to ignore Dean, but he did it, refusing to look at
him at all, just as he had since yesterday.
===============================================================================
His brother was such a fucking girl sometimes, he swore Sam actually had PMS.
Dean threw a glare at the younger boy who was sitting on the front steps of
their house fucking pouting. Fifteen years old, about to be sixteen in a few
days, and playing up the whole teenaged angst thing to the fullest degree. It
was really starting to piss Dean off.
Alright, so it sucked that Dad had to go away on a hunt a couple of days before
his brother’s birthday. Fine. But it wasn’t as though their father was doing it
just to piss off Sam. People were dying for fucks sake. Dad needed to get to
Washington pronto. Dean would have gone with their father in a heartbeat to
help out, but the job was probably going to take a month or so at least and Sam
couldn’t be left for that long on his own.
The way his brother had been acting for the last day and a half though, Dean
was highly tempted at the moment to jump in the truck with their Dad anyway.
As though Sam wasn’t pissed off enough at their Dad, Sam was pissed off at him
too. All because Dean had said “no” to his brother going on some stupid camping
trip. Sam had only asked him because the younger boy knew that if he’d asked
their dad, then John would have said “no” too. Little manipulative shit. He
hated when Sam tried to pull that on him. Yeah, Dean was somewhat of a pushover
when it came to something his little brother really wanted, he’d bend over
backwards to make it come true. Just like he’d managed to convince their father
to stay in the area for six whole months, one of the longest stretches that
they’d ever stayed in one place at a time. Just so his brother could finish out
his school year and a few make up classes so that Sam wouldn’t have to repeat
the grade again next year.
Sam knew better to ask him about that dumb camping trip though. Camping for
gods sake. As in out in the open where anything could attack at any time and
there wasn’t any way to even put up any of the normal protections because of
the stupid other kids that would be with Sam. Why are you putting a ring of
salt around the campfire? Yeah, he’d just love to see what explanation his
brother came up with. It was the same reason that their dad had never let Sam
go to any sleepovers or shit when he was younger, and boy the temper tantrums
that Sam had thrown on occasion.
Unfortunately, because Sam had decided to be sneaky and ask him and because
Dean had said the same thing their Dad would have he was on Sam’s shit list as
much as their father was. This was going to be a fucking fun summer alone with
emo boy. Though maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Being pissed off at his
little brother was a lot easier than... Dean shook those thoughts quickly out
of his head before they could fully form. Concentrating on helping their father
load up the truck. Doing his best to ignore the boy who was pointedly ignoring
the both of them.
It didn’t take long, and when they were finished John clapped him on the
shoulder.
“Alright, you know the drill. Call Bobby or Pastor Jim if there’s a problem.
The credit card is for emergencies only. Look after your brother.” Their father
said unnecessarily, the older man said the exact same thing every single time
he left on a hunt, but Dean nodded anyway.
“Yes, sir.”
John called his youngest son’s name then, twice, to say goodbye to him and Dean
frowned at the half-assed wave the younger boy gave their father. John merely
sighed and shook his head, glancing at Dean and rolling his eyes a little. Dean
bit the inside of his cheek but couldn’t stop from grinning a little. Sam’s
little bouts of teenage melodrama had become something of a private joke
between them.
Dean stepped back as John got into the truck and watched their father drive
away, the dirt driveway kicking up quite a bit of dust, sticking uncomfortably
to the sweat on his brow, and Dean coughed a little. The middle of summer in
the middle of Georgia was not a fun place to be, not in the least. When the
truck was finally out of sight, Dean turned around and started walking back to
the house. Kicking at his little brother’s shoe as he passed and walked up the
stairs to the front door.
“I’m making lunch. Get off your ass and come help.” Dean said as he opened the
old screen door that was half way to falling off its hinges, letting it slam
shut behind him.
===============================================================================
Sam tried to kick back but missed, turning to glare at the screen door that
shut behind him. He wasn’t hungry. It was too freakin’ hot to be hungry. And he
wasn’t about to jump at Dean’s command, hell no.
Turning back, he stared ahead with unseeing eyes, making plans and dreaming of
a future where there were no monsters around every corner, and he got to make
his own fucking decision. A smile almost played on his mouth until he heard a
truck pull up and saw it was a bunch of the guys from school, hanging off the
truck,making cat calls and waving at him to come.
When the cloud of dust settled, his best friend, if you could call it that,
shouted, “come on Sam, we still got room. My dad and uncle are coming.”
Sam stood up and looked through dark eyes at the driver, his friend’s dad, and
the second car with his friend’s uncle and some other kids he didn’t recognize.
He nodded toward the house and shrugged.
“Come on man, want me to talk to them?” Sam’s friend shouted.
“Nah.”
“Why not? We’ve got adults and—“
Sam shook his head again, “they’re paranoid freaks,” he said distinctly. “You
could have an army and it wouldn’t mean shit.”
Seeing that he wasn’t about to budge, the cars revved their engines and took
off, the calls and waves and rude remarks of this friends making Sam want to
laugh or break something. This was his life. Always getting left behind.
Slowly, he turned and walked inside, picking the scrap of paper off the floor,
and crumpling it in his hand. His eyes briefly met Dean’s and he could tell his
brother heard and was pissed, but he didn’t give a shit. Tossing the paper into
the trashcan, he moved away from the open kitchen and went to sit on the sofa,
pulling his shirt off and tossing it on a distant chair like he was playing
basketball.
===============================================================================
Dean wasn’t too terribly surprised that Sam simply ignored him. Considering Sam
had been ignoring him for the last day or so. That didn’t mean that it didn’t
piss him off, and he might have slammed the cupboards and ancient fridge door a
little harder than he needed to as he got out the bread, mayonnaise, and a can
of tuna.
Should just let the little pain in the ass starve, Dean thought to himself but
even as he thought that he was already taking out four slices of bread instead
of just two for himself. Opening the can of tuna he mixed it with some of the
mayonnaise in a bowl.
He was reaching into the fridge again for some celery and relish when he heard
the trucks drive up outside, and looked out the window with a frown. Dean
didn’t particularly like it when people came around their place, and he hadn’t
been too pleased with Sam’s choice of “friends” in this little hick town
either.
They were trouble. Not the kind of trouble that Dean could usually find if he
put his mind to it, but still trouble. That one boy in particular Dean had a
feeling was one of the reasons why Sam had been even more stubborn than usual
over the last few months. Always trying to buck their dad’s authority and get
away with shit that he normally would have never even thought to ask. Like this
stupid camping trip.
Dean glared hard at the back of his little brother’s head during the exchange,
if Sam jumped in that truck he would grab his damn gun and shoot out the tires
if he had to. But Sam didn’t. Even though his angry description of his family
left a bad taste in Dean’s mouth.
Dean turned back to his task, chopping up the celery with probably a lot more
enthusiasm than was required. Throwing a glare at the younger boy when Sam
finally decided to grace him with his presence.
He watched his brother throw away his report card and his fist tightened a
little around the knife in his hand. He knew Sam had gotten all A’s, again. He
didn’t even need to see it to know. He’d watched as the younger boy tried to
show it to their father on his way out, a rather dumb move on Sam’s part when
he knew their dad was distracted. Now Sam was throwing it away, without
bothering to show it to him like he normally did. As always lately, whatever
Sam was pissed off at their dad about, by extension that meant Sam was pissed
off at him for the same thing.
His displeased glare followed Sam into the living room and he watched the
younger boy peel off his sweat soaked t-shirt, sprawling out on the couch in
nothing but his shorts. Sam had been doing that a lot lately too. As the
thermometer creeped up towards and past a hundred degrees Sam wore less and
less during the day. Right now his cut off jean shorts were riding low on his
thighs and his lightly tanned skin was covered with a fine sheen of sweat
making Dean’s throat suddenly feel very dry.
Dean tore his eyes away from his fifteen year old brother and dumped the celery
into the bowl, mixed it up, and dropped a good portion onto each of the slices
of bread. But by the time he was cutting each sandwich in half he realized he
wasn’t even hungry anymore, thanks to Sam. Though if it was because he was so
pissed off at his little brother or because of the walking wet dream the
younger boy was turning into lately Dean didn’t know.
With a curse Dean threw both sandwiches onto a plate and slammed it down on the
table. He was out the back door again a second later, letting the screen door
slam behind him once more as he stalked around the house towards the garage.
Trying to ignore the tightness in his jeans and the foul thoughts in his brain
that made him feel like the worst fucking pervert in the world because they
were directed towards the last person in the world they should be.
He opened up the garage door and the blast of heat that smacked him in the face
made it a little difficult to breathe, fuck it had to be a hundred and twenty
degrees in there, but he’d rather spend the afternoon getting baked alive under
the hood of the Impala than to deal with his pissy little brother or his
perverted unwanted thoughts. Penance and avoidance at the same time, worked for
him.
===============================================================================
"Excuse me for living," Sam muttered, surprised and bewildered by Dean's odd
behavior. He'd done exactly what they wanted. Stayed home, imprisoned in his
own house. What the fuck else did they want from him?
As soon as he heard the garage door, he rolled his eyes. In this heat, Dean
couldn't play with his car for more than a few minutes. Reaching for a
sandwich, even though he'd vowed not to eat, he settled back against the sofa
and took a bite.
Before he knew it, he'd polished off the sandwich and was reaching for the
second one. Weird that Dean made him two of them. How did Dean know he'd be
this hungry? Changing the channel, he tried to get comfortable despite the
oppressive heat.
A couple of hours later, he woke up with a start when the volume on the t.v.
spiked. Frowning, he lowered the volume, but his eyes were glued on the news
report. How long had Dean been in that hot garage? He looked at the clock...
holy crap!
Scrambling to get his shoes on, he busted out of the house and practically ran
toward the garage. It was only when he was close that he slowed down. Opening
the garage door, he looked around and there was Dean, tinkering with the
Impala. One look at Dean's flushed face, and the sweat dripping down his
forehead, Sam wondered whether their dad took Dean's brain with him.
One hand on the door frame, he cleared his throat. "People are dying from heat
strokes." When he knew he had Dean's attention, he also muttered under his
breath. "Not the smart ones who got away from the heat and went places, like
the lake."
===============================================================================
Dean was under the hood of the impala, humming along with the tape deck blaring
over on the work bench in the corner. The window was open and the fan was on,
but all it did was seem to circulate the hot air around in the room rather than
offer any relief. He concentrated fully on his work and his baby, and doing his
best to distract himself from how fucking hot it was.
Not to mention forget about Sam and their Dad and the never ending feud he was
constantly being dragged in the middle of. Forget about his teenage brother’s
outbursts and angry mood swings that were growing increasingly harder to live
with, how Sam’s eyes no longer looked up to him or admired him, but only seemed
to ever look at him with scorn now. To forget about his own sick perverted
thoughts that seemed to race around in his brain unbidden every time he looked
at his little brother, thoughts that he hadn’t been able to deny ever since he
realized his “little” brother wasn’t so little anymore, catching glimpses of
the beautiful young man Sam was becoming....
He’d been doing a good job of it too, forgetting, denying, ignoring. So good in
fact he completely lost track of how long he’d been out here, avoiding Sam and
everything else. At least until the garage door opened and Dean looked up to
the cause of most of his misery lately, standing there in his cut off shorts,
old ratty sneakers without socks, and nothing else.
The twitch he felt in his groin watching a drop of sweat drip down from Sam’s
hairline, down his neck and chest and over a nipple, put him right back into
the foul mood he’d been trying so hard to forget ever since he came out here.
Sam’s words, not so much about heatstroke but the ones after. Muttered too soft
for Dean to hear but he didn’t need to from the expression of contempt on his
brother’s face had Dean scowling.
“Yeah, I’d bet you’d fucking love that, if I just dropped dead out here. Sorry
to disappoint you. Go away, Sam.” Dean snapped before he bent back under the
hood of the car, ignoring his brother’s presence.
===============================================================================
Gripping the frame, Sam frowned and stared at his brother. He knew Dean too
well not to read him, not to see that despite his effort to look relaxed, he
was tense... coiled as if ready to strike something. That made him wonder if
Dean developed superhero hearing and knew what he’d said.
He stood there a while longer, undecided. Dean was clearly done with him, he’d
told him to leave. But Sam knew it was dangerously hot in the garage, even if
Dean was in tip top shape and wasn’t about to keel over like the old people on
t.v. And of course he didn’t want Dean to die, he just wanted him to be
reasonable... to stop parroting their dad like he knew everything.
Another drop of sweat rolled down his back and he just knew that if it was this
hot in the doorway, Dean had to be dying. Letting out a sigh, he walked over
and looked under the hood then at his brother’s face, even if Dean was acting
like it took all his powers of concentration to mess with his car. “Finish
later. Split a beer with me?”
Yeah, he knew he was under age, but so was Dean and he got no flack for opening
the beers in the fridge. It wasn’t that he even liked the taste of beer, but
this would either draw Dean out of the garage, start a fight, or both. He
wanted Dean out of the extreme heat, and didn’t shirk from a fight, so one way
or the other, he was gonna get his way with this.
===============================================================================
Dean ignored his brother completely when Sam came over to stand beside him.
Keeping his eyes glued to the engine he was working on under the hood and not
his pain in the ass brother. His pain in the ass little brother who either
didn’t know or didn’t care that the last thing he should be doing was pushing
Dean’s buttons right now. Sam had ignored him just fine for the last couple of
days and now all of a sudden he wouldn’t go away? What the fuck?!
Dean twisted the wrench in his hand a little more sharply than he needed to,
and then gave a small mental apology to his baby. Sam’s “innocent” request, as
though he hadn’t been making Dean’s life hell for the last few days… or years
if you counted all of Dean’s horribly perverting musings about his little
brother in various states of undress… finally making him glare up at the
younger boy.
“Sorry, but this paranoid freak is busy. I have to finish this so I can go to
work tomorrow so I can feed your sorry ass while Dad is gone.” Dean snapped,
wincing a little even as the words left his mouth, but he turned his attention
back to the car. Away from his half naked little brother before he could mutter
the apology already burning on his tongue. The apology that he really didn’t
feel like giving Sam right now.
===============================================================================
Sam inhaled sharply, his face jerking up at the unexpected blow below the belt.
Dean could be mean when he wanted and call him names, he could deal with that
since he did a lot of that himself. They both gave as good as they got. But
this was different, it made him sound like a freakin’ user, like a hanger on...
like Dean wouldn’t have to work the job he hated if it weren’t for him. Worse,
it made him feel like he was trapping Dean, weighing him down when his brother
would much rather go with their dad.
His throat constricted. He swallowed over the bitter lump and just nodded, as
if in agreement. “You said no to the paper route, but I’ll do something over
the summer,” he said tightly. That had been a shouting match too, with Dean
saying he needed to study and not waste time trying to earn a few bucks. As if
he couldn’t do both. Sam knew Dean didn’t want him going all over town, that’s
what the real issue had been.
His fingers curled around the metal frame around the engine of the car. “You
know, you’re not as trapped as you think. You could do what you want. Leave...
take off, hunt even,” he shrugged. “Most of the chains you’re wearing, they’re
not real, they’re in your head. You hate this town, you hate this place... your
job, just get in your car and drive. The world will still survive.”
The thought of Dean driving off and leaving him at the ramshackle house made
his eyes sting a little, but no way he wanted to be the reason Dean hated his
life. He’d thought about this a lot, for himself. He knew they expected him to
graduate then become a hunter... live for it. Their expectations had been a
weight on him, until he figured out that he’d be at an age where he didn’t have
to listen. That he could take off to college. Dad would survive. Dean would
survive. The world would survive.
Licking his lips, he took another step back, then turned away so Dean wouldn’t
see the tear slip out his eyes. “You won’t get to pick between escape or
suffering at work, if you die of heatstroke.” He headed out, practically
running and kicking himself for having come after Dean in the first place. But
deep down inside, he knew he’d do it again, even knowing what was coming.
===============================================================================
Dean pretended not to hear what Sam was saying. He pretended not to notice the
strain in his little brother’s voice as he said it. Refused to show just how
much guilt he felt for saying what he had. For hurting Sam’s feelings like he
obviously had. He refused to show how much it hurt as Sam expertly returned the
favor.
He wasn’t “trapped”. It had never been a hardship for him, taking care of his
little brother while their father was away. Sure, maybe he hated working at
that god damned video store. Maybe he hated spending a good portion of the day
rewinding tapes, and keeping stupid kids from going back into the porno
section. But that was life. Sometimes you just had to suck it up and deal.
He worked between hunts so that he could help his dad with the expenses, to
take a little bit of the pressure off the older man. He worked to help feed
Sam, and himself, pay some bills, provide just a little bit better than their
tight budget normally allowed. Like ice cream on a hot day, or new shoes so Sam
could try out for track.
He’d never felt trapped by that. He gladly accepted his responsibility. To his
father. To Sam. To their family. The thought of leaving had never even crossed
his mind. This was his life. Their life. Saving people. Hunting things. The
family business, as their dad called it. Maybe he did hate this little hick
town they were crashing in for the moment. Maybe he hated this house where the
roof leaked badly when it rained too hard. But he wasn’t chained here, he
stayed willingly. He didn’t hate his life… though his brother obviously did.
The past couple of years Sam had been hinting as much. Always arguing with Dad.
Arguing with him less but more recently, especially if Dean ever dared to agree
with their father about something. His brother had been trying more and more to
blow off his training. Claiming schoolwork or wanting to play basketball or
soccer or go on fucking camping trips into the woods with his friends. Things
that just weren’t practical or downright dangerous. Asking for things Sam knew
their father would say “no” to and then pitching a fit when their dad did.
Dean had hoped it was just normal teenage angst and rebellion, Dean had gone
through it himself, though to a much lesser degree. He understood Sam’s
frustration, for the most part, but now… He couldn’t help but wonder if it had
a lot more to do with just hormones, too much fucking testosterone poisoning
his little brother’s brain. Maybe Sam really did hate their father like he
acted more and more frequently. Maybe Sam really did hate him…
Dean blinked, telling himself the stinging in his eyes was just from the sweat
dripping down his face. When Dean finally looked up, Sam was gone. Probably
long gone. Dean stayed out in the garage another half hour or so, because he
really did need to finish what he’d been working on or he’d have to walk to
town tomorrow. When he finally left the garage it was still hot as ever even
though the sun had started to set into the horizon.
He walked slowly up the creaking back porch stairs and into the kitchen.
Grabbing a towel hanging on the fridge door and wetting it with cold water from
the sink, running it over his flushed face and the back of his neck a few
times. Then he went back to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed two beers out.
He crossed the hallway to the living room and flopped down on the couch. He
didn’t look at his brother but held out the cold bottle by the neck to the
younger boy in a silent peace offering.
===============================================================================
For a long time, he stared at the t.v. screen but wasn’t watching or listening.
Stuff just simmered and boiled inside him, the way it seemed to so much lately.
Worry. About his stubborn ass of a brother who’d rather give himself heatstroke
than admit staying in the stifling heat of the garage was stupid as hell.
Guilt. Until now, he hadn’t... not for one second... thought of all the trouble
he was to Dean. That if it weren’t for him, Dean could be out there hunting at
dad’s side instead of working to ‘feed his sorry ass.’ Anger. Who the hell had
asked for this life anyway? Dad was out of control, and he’d pretty much
brainwashed Dean, and now the two of them would be ganging up on him. He could
just imagine the fights that were to come. But he was right, and they were
wrong. He had a right to choose a normal life. If they didn’t like it, they
could suck it up. Or they could try to be normal, freakin’ do their own thing
but accept him the way he was, let him go to college.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the opening and closing of the door.
It was the water that had him turning to look through the door to the hallway.
At least he wasn’t dead, there was that.
Then Dean came in and gave him a beer. “Whole one... for me?” He looked up and
grabbed it before Dean could change his mind. “Thanks,” he muttered, a bit
unsurely as Dean went back to ignoring him.
Licking his lips, he put the bottle against his mouth and wedged his strong
lower teeth between the cap and the bottle. Biting down, he jerked the bottle
upward and had the cap off and spit it onto the coffee table.
The store near the school had soda’s with caps on them and when there was a big
crowd of students, you’d have to wait in line for the opener. Unless you
learned this trick from Jake. He’d learned that, and a lot more from Jake, but
he tried to keep his mind off his friend, who was now probably setting up camp
near a nice lake. He could think of nothing more fun than swimming at night at
the moment.
He lifted the bottle again to his mouth and took a drink, his face screwing up
a little. He didn’t hate beer, but he didn’t love it either. Stealing a glance
at Dean, he tried to emulate him, taking another couple of mouthfuls and
looking like he was enjoying it.
===============================================================================
Dean merely shrugged at Sam’s surprise that he was giving him a whole beer for
himself. It wasn’t like it was going to stunt the boy’s growth or anything.
Little bastard was almost as tall as him now and he was only fifteen. Though
that wasn’t the real reason why Dean had gotten them two beers instead of one
to share as Sam had suggested. It was because Dean wasn’t sure how he would…
react… putting his lips around the same bottle as Sam, maybe even able to taste
a little bit of his brother there every time he took a drink.
The older boy glanced at Sam as his little brother used his teeth to open the
bottle and rolled his eyes.
“You’re going to break a fucking tooth doing that shit.” He said before looking
away again, using the bottle opener he’d brought with him and tossing the cap
onto the table next to Sam’s. Making sure not to look at Sam as his brother
drank, wrapping his lips around the lip of the cold perspiring glass. He tried
not to at least, but even not looking he could still see Sam from his
peripheral vision.
He was glad his face was already flushed, and took a long drink of the cold
beer to cool himself down. He chewed on his lower lip a moment, pretending to
watch the boring ass news show for a while before he leaned over his brother
and snatched the remote away from him. Flipping through channels even as he
started talking.
“Maybe we can drive up to the lake on my day off.” Dean said as though it was
the most casual thing in the world, quickly adding for clarification. “For the
afternoon.” There was no fucking way they were staying there overnight, but if
it would make Sam happy…
===============================================================================
Sam made a sound of disagreement. He was ten times more likely to break a
fucking tooth fighting monsters than he was on a bottle cap. Knowing it would
lead to another fight, one that he didn’t want or need right now, he kept his
thoughts to himself.
His gaze moved between the t.v. and Dean and back. “If we get a long enough
cable, we could hook up to the neighbors.” They’d done that when they stayed at
apartments, gotten free cable. Helped when he had long hours of boredom when
his dad and brother went out on a hunt and didn’t take him, and yet they
expected him to stay prisoner inside. You’d think he was made of freakin’
china.
He was about to take a drink when Dean mentioned going to the lake. A smile lit
Sam’s eyes as he practically dove from his chair to the sofa, bouncing up
against Dean. “That would be awesome. Jake and the others’ll still be there.
They have extra tents... he told me.” Yeah, he knew Dean wouldn’t like it, but
he had to try. “It’ll be fun... no different from sleeping in the car, and
we’ve done that hundreds of times,” he added a bit defensively, seeing Dean’s
eyes narrow.
===============================================================================
The little spark of happiness he felt in his own chest seeing the smile light
up his little brother’s face like a neon sign was unfortunately short lived. It
wasn’t the part where Sam’s first thought was being able to spend time with his
“friends” who would still be up at the lake, rather than with his brother who
was willing to drive him all the fucking way there just to make Sam happy.
Though, ok fine, that did sting a bit. It was the fact that even after he’d
said they were only going to be going up there for the afternoon, Sam
immediately launched into a campaign trying to convince him to spend the night
up there with Sam’s fucking friends. As though Dean hadn’t just made a big
friggen compromise willing to take his little brother up there at all.
Give him an inch, the little prick tries to take a mile. That’s what Sam was
all about lately, and frankly, Dean was getting really fucking tired of it.
“Are you fucking retarded or something? I just said we’d be going up there for
the afternoon, that’s it.” Dean said, giving his brother the no nonsense don’t
argue with me glare that Dean had learned from their Dad, and he knew that was
just going to piss off his little brother even more.
“No different huh? Forget that the trunk of the car is filled with an arsenal?
How about all the protective spells and shit Dad has carved into all the groves
of the windows and doors? You going to put a circle of salt up around your tent
before you go to sleep? I’d like to see you try to explain that one to your
‘friends’.”
===============================================================================
Sam recoiled at the criticism. They didn't think he ever got anything right.
Sure, Dean was more encouraging, maybe a little less hard on him when they
practiced or went on a real hunt, but it was an act. Inside, this was how he
felt. 'Little Sammy' knew nothing, had to be told what to do, when and how.
He sat back, and took a longer pull of beer than he had before, trying to
control the emotions seething inside him, boiling... when all he'd wanted was a
peaceful moment and maybe a fun weekend. Taking a couple more swigs, Sam tried
to hold it in, not to explode, not to tell it like it was, but he couldn't...
just couldn't.
He pointed at Dean with the head of his beer bottle. "You're turning into mini-
dad. Used to have fun, break the rules. Now it's all about the stupid rules.
Everything is can't. Can't do this, can't do that, too dangerous, too in the
open, not enough wards, or a waste of time because we're not practicing or
killing things... dad!" he emphasized, his eyes raking over his brother.
"You make me feel like I'm nuts... like I'm the crazy one, but I'm not... you
are, both of you," he nodded. "There are bad things out there, okay... I get
that. But you know, reason we see so much of it is your fault... you and dad's.
What do you think happens when you go out there and hunt them all the time,
huh? You attract them right back, that's what."
Lifting his bottle to his lips he took another long drink, and felt like his
tension was melting away even when he didn't want it to, no... he had to let
Dean know how they made him feel. "People, regular people, they go out at
night, they go camping, they get to do things after school that really mean
something, things that don't have anything to do with shooting or cutting or
... surviving. You know why? Because they live their lives. And yeah, sometimes
they get hurt by what's out there, but we already have been hurt by it.
Lightning already struck the Winchesters, okay? Not gonna happen over and over
again. Mom's gone... both of you have to get over that, get over trying to get
revenge or whatever. We're not getting her back, and this... what we do... it
brings the monsters us. That's why we have to put salt around the house and
freakin' spells in the groove of the car windows... That's not normal Dean.
That's crazy... and I'm not," he shook his head. "I'm not crazy, and I won't
let you or him try to tell me I am. I won't."
Hot tears started to streak down his cheeks. He wiped at them, angry at
himself. "I just wanna be normal... why can't you let me? Why?"
===============================================================================
There were a lot of times he felt like he just wanted to strangle Sam for
picking fights with Dad and just doing everything in his power to make life as
miserable as possible for this family. There were a lot of times when Dean felt
like beating the shit out of his smart mouthed little brother, especially in
the recent months.
This was the first time he actually followed through with that desire however.
Dean saw red. Sam had gone too far. Way too fucking far. If Sam wanted to
criticize him, call him crazy, paranoid, hate him, blame him for all of his
little brother’s misery, fine. If Sam wanted to mouth off about Dad, talk shit
about their father and how much he hated their life that was Sam’s problem. But
the little fucking bastard didn’t get to say a fucking word about their mom.
The mom that Dean barely remembered anymore and Sam never even got to know
because she had been murdered by some evil son of a bitch… and Sam didn’t even
fucking care…
Dean barely realized he was on his feet, and barely managed to uncurl his fist
at the last second so it was only the flat of his palm that cracked loudly
across the younger boy’s face. He knew guilt would hit him hard and fast later
for hitting Sam, but right now he didn’t give a damn.
“Fuck you, you ungrateful little shit!” Dean yelled, standing over the younger
boy, his whole body practically vibrating with fury, with the desire to give
Sam more than just a fucking bloody nose or bruised lip. Maybe if he bruised up
that too fucking pretty face enough maybe he would stop looking at Sam. Maybe
if he split those too full lips, then he wouldn’t want to kiss them anymore.
“You know what? Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want! Go out with your fucking
‘friends’! Go out fucking camping! Get out! Go get yourself gutted, or burned,
or liquefied like the rest of the normal people out there! I don’t fucking
care!” Dean practically screamed, launching his half full bottle of beer at the
wall above Sam’s head before stalking back into the kitchen, grabbing his car
keys off the shelf, and slamming the screen door so hard this time that one of
the hinges actually came off.
A few seconds later he was in his car, one of his old classic rock tapes he
knew Sam hated blaring at a deafening level as he peeled out of the garage,
tires kicking up a mountain of dust on their dirt driveway as he floored it to
the main road. Never once looking back.
===============================================================================
His mind made sluggish by the liquor, Sam watched as if in slow motion, the
broad sweep of Dean’s hand before the heavy slap landed, sending his head to
the side and his face into the back of the couch. His soft cry split the air at
the unexpected violence from his own brother, as his nerveless fingers lost
their grip on the bottle. It tumbled, caught the edge of the old coffee table
and shattered before it hit the ground.
A dull roar filled his ears followed a blinding flash of pain, and making it
almost impossible for him to understand what Dean was shouting at him. He’d hit
him... Dean had struck him for real, like he was one of the things they hunted
and killed. He’d drawn blood, and he wasn’t sorry. Sam could practically see
Dean shaking with anger and hate, looking at him in a way he never had before.
He was used to the anger and frustration... common expressions in his brother’s
eyes lately, but the hate... that ripped him up but good on the inside. He
tried to keep the tears in, tried but failed to prevent himself from raising
his arm in a protective motion in case the second blow followed.
And then it was over, his ears still ringing with Dean’s last hateful words.
Get out he’d shouted, and Sam knew Dean meant it. Earlier he’d finally told the
truth about being trapped ‘feeding him.’ Now this. Still dazed, he wiped his
hand over his lip and wasn’t surprised at the blood in his palm. He’d tasted
and smelled it, and now he his lip was stinging, reminding him again of the
pain his brother had inflicted.
Fine he’d go. The only reason he’d stuck around before was Dean. Even though
his brother could treat him like shit, most of the time, he hadn’t. Sam knew
Dean had gone beyond the call of duty to make things okay for him when their
dad was gone, that he’d tried to play both mom and dad, that he’d protected him
in ways he might never even really understand. He’d been there for him. And all
of that tied them together, and deep down, even though Dean had been the
protector, Sam knew Dean needed him too. That they had a connection between
them, a history, even the ability to almost read each other, something that Sam
wasn’t sure that Dean was ready to let go of yet, or ever. He hadn’t run away
because he thought he could slowly break the news to Dean that one day he’d be
gone, just to college, but he’d be gone.
He glanced at the door. Dean had just made the decision easier. He’d shown Sam
that everything Sam thought he knew about Dean had been a lie. His brother
didn’t need him. He was just doing his ‘duty’ by their dad, and couldn’t wait
to get rid of him.
Mentally, he made a list of all the things he would need to pack, then got up
and took a determined step. Pain, sharper than Dean’s blow had him shouting and
hopping to the other sofa, and dropping down. By the time he peeled his thinly
soled sneakers off, there was blood all over the floor.
The thick piece of class that had sliced him had fallen off but there was a
smaller one lodged in right next to the crescent shaped cut in the middle of
his foot. Gritting his teeth and clamping down on the sound of pain, he gripped
its edge and slowly eased it out, tears flowing as he started to curse and
blamed Dean. Now he couldn’t fucking ride his bike and get the hell away from
here. From them. From him.
That last thought, something that would never have crossed his mind hurt him in
places deep inside his heart. Pulling up from the couch, he headed for the
bedroom, completely uncaring of the trail he was leaving as he tried not to
step in a way that would hurt more.
In the room, he went ahead and packed, because it would give him something to
do. And it made him feel like he was proactively doing something. He wasn’t
anyones doormat or punching bag, and he wasn’t the chain around their neck
either. Fuck that. Fuck that and the tears that wouldn’t stop.
He tossed his bag pack next to his bed, then staggered slightly to the
bathroom. He dropped his jeans shorts to the ground but kept his boxers on.
Numb, he walked into a cold shower, letting the water wash the sweat and blood
off him. He didn’t soap up, or dry off. Instead, he just walked back to his bed
and flopped down on it cross-wise, laying on his stomach, and torturing himself
with his thoughts until oblivion claimed him.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon
Dean had never had any trouble getting into bars. His father had given him his
first fake ID when he was sixteen, mostly to help him hustle for some quick
extra cash, but the older man had never complained whenever Dean had sat down
with him at the bar for a beer or even harder liquor. Back then it had been a
little iffy if his father wasn't there to pass off for twenty one, but now that
Dean was nineteen none of the bartenders ever looked sideways at him when he
flashed his ID and asked for a drink.

One of the bad things about small hick towns, especially small hick towns where
they'd been holed up for a while, was that everyone knew everyone. Even in
small run down bars. They would have pegged him for John's son, John's underage
son, and kicked him out pretty much as soon as he walked through the door, no
matter how good friends his father might be with the bartender. So Dean had
drove two towns over before stopping at the shittiest little run down shack of
a waterhole he'd seen in months. It fit his mood perfectly.
Still boiling in his anger at the younger boy Dean had first drank to try to
cool that anger, and then afterwards he'd drank to forget his overwhelming
guilt for having actually hit Sam. Not in a sparring match where neither of
them pulled any punches, or when they sometimes wrestled and a stray elbow or
knee might draw blood. He had hit his brother in anger and while part of him
hated himself for it, smaller part of him insisted the little fucktard had
deserved it and he wasn't sorry, which only made him hate himself more.
Sam hated him. Right now he supposed he couldn't really blame the younger boy,
after what Dean had done. Maybe he was crazy. But everything he had ever done
in his life had been for Sam. Ever since he'd carried his baby brother out of
that fucking fire, he'd sworn he'd look after Sam, made sure nothing ever
happened to him, made sure nothing and no one ever hurt him. He'd protected his
little brother from bullies at school. He'd protected his little brother from
all the fucking monsters out there, human and supernatural alike. He'd always
made sure Sam had food in his belly and someplace to sleep, even when Dad
wasn't always around to make that happen… and Sam hated him for it…
But why shouldn't Sam hate him? Especially now? After he'd fucking hit the
younger boy. Every time he thought of it he wanted to get back in his car and
drive home with the gas pedal floored to make sure Sam was ok, to make sure Sam
hadn't left, to say he was sorry, over and over, he was sorry for being such a
fucked up brother. Because maybe Sam hated him because a part of Sam knew about
Dean's sick and twisted thoughts. He'd tried to keep them hidden, but maybe Sam
had sensed it anyway. That when Dean looked at him his older brother noticed
things he shouldn't be noticing. How Dean dreamed sometimes dreamed about
kissing Sam's plump lips when they were pouting, or imagining how his brother's
developing muscles would feel underneath his hands if he slid it up underneath
his shirt or down his jeans…
Dean drank to drown out his thoughts. To drown out his guilt. To drown out his
anger. To drown out his need. To forget about how Sam hated him, and how he
loved his brother way too damned much. The bar was the kind of place that
didn't give a damn if the customers got into fights as long as no one was
knifed and nothing was broken. That night Dean got into three brawls, two he
won, the last one he lost only because there were five of them and he was so
drunk by then he could barely stand. Still he was so drunk by that point he
barely felt the bruises, even though he limped quite a bit on his way out to
his car. Shame that, after the way he'd hit his brother he deserved more than a
little pain.
Yeah, on some level he knew it was really fucking stupid to try driving home
when he was this fucking drunk, but most of him didn't fucking care. He didn't
even care when he tried to take a corner too fast and the Impala ran off the
road, slamming into a tree.
===============================================================================

He was hungry. So very hungry.
He’d combed neighborhood after neighborhood, and hadn’t found one who could
satisfy him. Until now.
Waves of pain, of lust, of regret, of guilt and self loathing permeated the
air. Impossible love. Impossible need. Dirty, forbidden, taboo…
He practically wailed as he circled the air, seeking, searching the source of
those emotions, practically tasting them, envisioning himself gorging,
exhausting his victim, exacting his price. It would be beautiful…
There. It was coming from that vehicle smashed against a tree, with its engine
still running. Smiling, he dropped to the ground and passed through the locked
passenger door to sit down next to the driver. Handsome. Bleeding and marred,
but handsome. More importantly, he was filled with emotions… they raged and
battled in him constantly. He could give the boy peace.
Touching his shoulder without any perceptible pressure, he started to read what
was in the boy’s mind. He filtered through his memories, saw every triumph and
every failure. So many self perceived failures, so many hurts and aches, and a
secret, unspeakable desire for his brother. His… baby brother.
This would be easy, but he had to be careful. This one was a hunter by nature.
He’d have to be sucked in, immersed into the game before he figured out what
was going on while he still had the strength to fight it.
Pulling the visor down, he looked at himself. A teenager appeared in the
mirror, with longish hair, a strong jaw for one so young, and eyes meant for
the bedroom. No wonder that one, Dean, wanted him. He looked down at his long
limbs, and the firm muscles of a physically fit youth. Then he turned his
sights on the driver, still slumped half way on the steering wheel.
Shutting the engine off, he shook Dean. “Hey, Dean… wake up.” Sam licked the
blood off his mouth, but felt fresh blood forming.
===============================================================================
Dean groaned softly.
He wasn’t sure where he was. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He knew he was
in the car… his car… but he wasn’t sure how he knew it. Probably from the
steering wheel jammed against his ribs uncomfortably. His chest ached sharply
with every slow breath he took. His head pounded like someone had been using a
jackhammer on it. He could feel blood dripping down his face from somewhere in
his hairline, his short hair already sticky with it. His face was bruised. He
tasted blood in his mouth, on his lips…
The hunter in him ticked off one hurt after another by instinct but he still
wasn’t sure what had happened. The fact that he knew he was in the car should
have been a clue, the heavy smell of alcohol should have been another. But he
was still having trouble putting two and two together. His head was swimming in
an ocean of alcohol and pain and his thoughts moved like molasses on a cold
day, slow and sluggish.
His eyes slid open slowly, his vision fuzzy and unfocused. He blinked the blood
out of his eyes and slowly the face of his brother swam into view.
“Sammy?” He whispered, his voice unsure, not quite believing what his eyes were
telling him. What was Sam doing here? Something told him that Sam shouldn’t be
here… he wasn’t sure why though… he couldn’t think… Maybe he was dreaming… or
hallucinating… concussions could do that. Yeah, he had to be, since Sam was
sitting next to him in the seat buck naked. If he was hallucinating though,
couldn’t he hallucinate himself hurting a little less?
Dean managed to get his hands underneath him and tried to push himself away
from the steering wheel a little, but almost immediately gave up with another
groan of pain, letting himself slump weakly back against it. He blinked
owlishly at his brother who may or may not have really been there but was still
definitely naked. But if Sam really was there, maybe he had been in the
accident too. Maybe he was hurt?
“You ok, Sam?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.
===============================================================================
Sam shook his head, “not really.” He let that sink in, knowing the power of the
idea of a hurt Sam had on Dean Winchester. “You hurt me.” Taking Dean’s limp
hand, he brought it to the corner of his mouth, where his lip was split.
“You’re gonna make it better. After I fix you.”
Leaning close to Dean and brushing against his arm, he took the keys from the
ignition, opened the door and slipped out, moving very slowly, watching Dean
from over his shoulder until he was behind the car and looking at him through
the window. He opened the trunk, got the first aid kit, slammed it shut and met
Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
Looking down, he walked back around the car and got inside. “Sit back,” he said
softly, using a cotton swab and alcohol to clean Dean’s wounds. Then he got on
his knees on the chair, and leaned across Dean to take care of a cut below his
far eye. Sam concentrated hard, bringing his face close to Dean’s and holding
his tongue in the corner of his mouth, just inches from Dean’s. “Look up…
almost done.”
===============================================================================

Not really? Was Sam hurt? Dean blinked, trying to force his mind to clear.
Letting his eyes look more closely at his brother’s body, something he’d tried
to avoid doing lately, but especially when the younger boy was lacking
clothing… like now. But if Sam was hurt he had to know where so he could…
Dean’s thoughts froze midway when Sam clarified. Reminding him how Dean had
hurt him. How he’d… hit his brother… in anger earlier tonight. Dean inhaled
sharply when the younger boy took his hand, pressing it to his jaw where it was
bruised, Dean’s eyes tearing a little when he took in the younger boy’s split
and swollen lip.
“I’m s…” Dean began to apologize, but again his thoughts not to mention his
words were cut off when Sam leaned closer to him. Brushing up against him as
the younger boy took the keys to his car out of the ignition. Got out… where
was Sam going? Dean heard the trunk open and close. Sam returned soon, with
their first aid kit, and Dean managed a slight nod when his brother told him to
sit back even though it hurt his neck.
This time when he tried to push himself up off the steering wheel he managed,
another groan of pain escaping his lips, every muscle in his chest, arms and
back felt bruised, and his vision swam a little as he sat back in the seat. He
noticed the windshield was broken and there was blood on the steering wheel.
His blood. Dean turned his head to look at Sam again, wanting to ask his
brother again if he were ok. If he was this banged up…
But then his brother was cleaning his cuts and Dean closed his eyes, hissing
softly at the sting of the alcohol. His brother was quick and efficient as
always. His eyes fluttered open almost of their own will when Sam leaned over
him. His heart beginning to beat a little faster and not able to help it. Sam
was so close. Looking at him so intently. His eyes focused. His little pink
tongue sticking out a little like he used to when concentrating hard on
something, driving Dean crazy. Dean swallowed hard, lifting his chin as he was
told so Sam could finish cleaning most of the blood off his face. He swore he
could feel Sam's breath on his lips...
Was this a dream? It felt so... real... but...
===============================================================================
He had Dean’s attention. He had his mind nice and clouded, with need, with
confusion… just enough to make this all seem like a dream, to make it okay for
Dean to participate in what he wouldn’t do in the light of day. He took his
time, cleaning wounds that weren’t even there, focusing on them, on Dean like
his brother was the center of his world.
The cotton slipped from his fingers. Eyes locked with his brothers, Sam fumbled
for it, his hands brushing repeatedly over Dean’s cock. Giving a rueful smile,
he leaned down, gripping Dean’s thigh, and then reaching between his legs to
the floor board. He stretched, swaying back and forth a little, then using
Dean’s body to climb back up.
Putting a hand on his brother’s face, once again he turned it and finished up.
He tossed the cotton ball onto the passenger seat. “My turn, Dean.” Lifting his
face, he distinctly said, “kiss it better.”
===============================================================================
Sam was so damned close. He could feel the heat of the younger boy’s body
soaking through his clothes. He could definitely feel his brother’s breath on
his lips. He could practically taste it. So much sweeter than his own, laced
with the harsh taste of alcohol and blood. Sam’s eyes were so close to his own
they were almost all he could see, he felt like he was drowning in them, he
couldn’t have looked away if he tried.
Then Sam accidentally dropped the cotton he was wiping his face off with. It
had to be an accident. But when Sam’s hand went to retrieve it… Dean inhaled
sharply when his brother’s hand went between his legs, searching for the fallen
swap and every aching muscle in Dean’s body drew taunt. Especially the one
where the younger boy’s fingers kept brushing…
The groan that escaped Dean’s lips then was definitely not from pain, and shame
quickly followed. He was about to tell the younger boy to just forget about the
damned cotton swab, when his brother leaned over him, his hands on his thighs
for support, his face almost between his knees, giving Dean a splendid view of
his long pale back. All soft pale skin practically glowing in the moonlight
leading down to the perfect swell of his ass, and Dean’s fingers itched to run
his palms over the baby soft cheeks.
Dean was breathing noticeably faster when Sam finally straightened and finished
cleaning off his face. He was about to relax, figuring Sam would sit back now
that he was done, but the younger boy’s words made him blink stupidly for a few
moments before they finally clicked.
Kiss it…
It was said so innocently. Like when Sam had been four and had fallen and
skinned his knee on the sidewalk and Dad hadn’t been able to make him stop
crying. Only his eight year old big brother had calmed him down when Dean
kissed the tiny scrape better. Now the request sent an incredible rush of heat
straight south and his stomach twisted violently in shame as he felt himself
hardening even more.
Still the way Sam was looking at him. Hopeful, expectant, innocent… Dean found
himself slowly leaning forward, letting his lips brush lightly over the younger
boy’s lower lip where it had been split by his own hand earlier.
===============================================================================
The surge of emotions in Dean sent the blood rushing beneath Sam’s skin, making
him flush all over. He needed more, so much more from Dean.
He hardly moved as Dean’s mouth touched his lip, just touched. Before Dean
could pull back, Sam turned his head slightly, forcing Dean’s mouth to brush
against his again. He gave an audible intake of his breath, and licked his lip,
touching Dean’s with his tongue at the same time. “Make it better, Dean. You
know how.” He pressed closer, swallowing hard as he heard Dean’s heart knocking
against his chest.
Their mouths still barely touching, Sam put his hand on Dean’s thigh, moving it
up and down, hoping to confuse… to mix him up. A tear squeezed out of the
corner of his eyes. “Take away the hurt. Make it better. Dean?”
===============================================================================
Dean held his breath when Sam’s mouth brushed his again, and then it all rushed
out of him when he felt the tip of his brother’s tongue touch his lips. His
lips felt tight and he felt flushed all over. Sam’s desperate words making him
groan… and god did he really sound so obscene? This was his little brother,
damn it, he couldn’t. Sam…
Better… make it better…
This had to be a dream, this had to… he must have knocked his head really hard
on the steering wheel, hell, maybe his head even went through the windshield.
He must have a bad concussion, maybe he was even in a coma or something having
a really fucked up vivid fantasy… and Dean couldn’t say he really cared.
His breath began to come out in short quick pants as Sam’s hand moved along his
thigh. God, he was so hard. He ached… ached so damned much… Sam had been making
him ache for years now. Take away the hurt… make it better… yes, he knew what
would make it better...
When Dean pressed his mouth against his brother’s again it wasn’t light or
chaste this time. Neither was the moan that escaped him, the hand that came to
rest on the back of Sam's neck, pulling his little brother closer, the tongue
that slipped out of his mouth to swipe across his brother’s split lip, or how
he sucked that sweet lower lip into his mouth. He felt the shame, he felt the
guilt, he felt how sick he was for wanting this, but none of it mattered right
now. Nothing mattered to him but the younger boy’s exquisite taste as he pushed
his tongue past those soft lips into the sweet warmth of Sam’s mouth.
===============================================================================
The more Dean fought against his desires, the more he berated himself for them
even as he gave in, the more he enjoyed taking the essence of Dean’s emotions.
So pure, unadulterated, so powerful, so delightful, it sent pure pleasure to
every nerve center of the being.
At first, Sam was passive, letting Dean explore every corner of his mouth, ever
so gently, even as the pressure his hand was putting on the back of his head,
holding him in place, told him Dean wanted much more. He gave a low moan and
curled his tongue experimentally around Dean’s, pushing himself closer. Dean’s
response emboldened Sam.
Mouths still locked together, he pushed Dean against the back of the chair.
Simultaneously, the chair slipped back, away from the steering wheel, and Sam
straddled Dean’s hips. The instant he felt any resistance, he moved against
Dean, rubbing his ass too gently over his arousal, making him need so much
more.
Sam’s hands fluttered at the hem of Dean’s shirt, pushing it up wards and
making a small sound. Immediately, Dean helped him peel it off his body,
tossing it to the back seat. They stared at each other for a long moment, and
before the spell could break, Sam thrust his hips forward, pressing the hard
knot between his own legs against Dean’s bare abs.
“Hurts.” He gave his brother a watery smile. “Make it better.” And then he
covered Dean’s mouth with his, and plastered himself to his brother. Let him
hate himself for this. Let him curse himself for being all sorts of perverted,
but he couldn’t resist, no, he’d never be able to resist.
===============================================================================
Dean practically whimpered into his brother’s mouth when he felt Sam’s tongue
curl around his own, stroking gently, a little insecure, a little
inexperienced, but so damned good. Then Sam was pushing him back, climbing into
his lap, and Dean’s brain practically short circuited. He knew he shouldn’t… he
knew they couldn’t… this was wrong, even if it was only a fucked up dream of
his own perverted fantasies it was still wrong. Even if it was only in his
mind, it was still his baby brother he was molesting… But the feel of Sam’s ass
pressing down on his hard cock trapped inside his jeans erased all thoughts of
stopping from his mind.
Oh fuck, he was so hard, so hard he was hurting. His heart was beating so
damned fast in his chest he thought he might just blow it out if this kept up.
Maybe he should be worrying about a heart attack? Or a stroke? Maybe he was
bleeding in his brain and that’s why he was hallucinating like this? He had
just been in a fucking accident after all… but all Dean could really care about
was Sam’s taste, the weight of him in his lap, his brother’s tongue in his
mouth… even if it was just a fantasy, a fucked up illusion, dream whatever, he
didn’t care.
His hands settled on the warm soft skin of his brother’s thighs and Dean
groaned obscenely into his little brother’s mouth. Making small encouraging
sounds in his throat when he felt Sam’s hands on him. Never once stopping
kissing his brother, until he felt the younger boy’s hand pulling up his shirt.
Only then did Dean tear his lips away from the younger boy, yanking off his
shirt with little care of how his muscles screamed in protest of the movement.
He felt blood dripping down his neck again, he tasted it from the various cuts
on his face, and his vision swam a little in and out of focus as he stared at
his little brother, but Dean didn’t care.
“Sammy…” Dean panted, groaning low in his throat when he felt Sam press closer,
rubbing his hardening cock against his stomach and Dean’s hands settled on his
brother’s ass. Tugging him closer, moaning as he kissed his brother again
deeply, thrusting his tongue into that sweet young mouth and taking everything
being offered. Not caring about the consequences. Encouraging Sam to fuck
against him, his own hips lifting off the seat to rub against Sam’s ass.
Groaning in pleasure and frustration at the layers of cloth still separating
them, but too afraid to take that last step.
===============================================================================
Sam put one hand on the ceiling and writhed almost too gently against his
brother, deliberately heightening Dean’s frustration, fueling it with
exaggerated gyrations of his body that enflamed rather than satisfied. He made
little sounds against his brother’s mouth, took quick audible breaths, all
geared to seem innocent but to drive Dean to the very edge.
When Dean’s fingers started to bite into his skin, Sam broke the kiss, leaned
back and watched Dean under his lashes. He looked so deliciously tortured. So
hot, so undecided, his eyes glazed with lust, his mouth wet with Sam’s spit...
Sam opened his mouth licked around the edges of his lips, knowing he had Dean’s
rapt attention. In and out, he let his own tongue suggest the other uses his
mouth could be put to. He knew the exact moment Dean got the message, the exact
moment Dean felt his precum smearing cross his abs, and the exact moment there
was no turning back.
Landing his mouth messily over Dean’s, he kissed him... plastered himself
against him, like he’d never let go, raising and lowering himself... increasing
the friction between his cock and Dean’s toned flesh, and his ass against
Dean’s cock. This would last for hours and hours... he’d keep siphoning, never
letting Dean have complete satisfaction... keep him wanting, so tomorrow night
he’d be begging.... waiting... dying for him.
===============================================================================
Dean’s head fell back against the seat with a moan that was as much pain as
pleasure, as much satisfaction as frustration. His eyes glazed with lust and
heavy with desire, he saw nothing but Sam, as he watched his beautiful little
brother moving over him. He groaned at the feeling of the younger boy fucking
against his stomach and rocking against his trapped erection. Feeling the hot
slick trails Sam left across his skin making him shudder and it felt so good
and hurt so much at the same time he simply couldn’t stop whimpering and
moaning at the pleasure/pain.
“Sam… Sammy…” Dean panted his brother’s name over and over, his fingers digging
into the warm flesh of the younger boy’s hips, sliding around to grip the soft
round globes of his ass when his brother kissed him again.
He was oblivious to everything but the soft wet tongue sliding in and out of
his mouth, imagining what it might feel like on his nipples, on his cock. Sam’s
cock was a heavy hot brand against his stomach and god what he wouldn’t give to
wrap his lips around it, sucking and licking until his little brother’s seed
exploded down his throat. He imagined his fingers delving into the hot crease
of his ass, discovering the tight puckered hole, teasing it with his tongue and
fingers, pushing inside, the first to ever explore that tight forbidden heat.
He wanted it, needed it, so much. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was all
kinds of evil and he was the worst kind of pervert in the world for wanting it,
and he didn’t care. It was only a dream, only a fantasy, why couldn’t he have
it now, just this once?
Dean didn’t know how long it lasted. He never wanted it to end. He didn’t care
how much the rest of him hurt, as long as Sam kept rubbing against him, letting
him thrust against that perfect ass. He didn’t care about the blood he knew he
was smearing across his brother’s pale flesh with his hands, or the blood
stinging his eyes. He didn’t care about the darkness edging around his vision,
only their pants and moans and the wet sound of their kisses drowning out
everything else, even the sound of the sirens growing steadily louder.
“Sammy…” He whispered, pleading for more, more of Sam’s kisses and touches,
even as his grip on the younger boy grew slack and the darkness finally rose up
to claim him.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon
The phone rang insistently, despite Sam's futile attempts to ignore it and put
a pillow over his head. Last night fresh in his mind and in his dreams, he felt
like crap... like he hadn't slept. Dammit, why couldn't Dean get the phone? He
had to get up early for work anyway.

Forcing an eye open and lifting his head, he looked over at his brother's bed.
Empty. Was it later than he thought? Was Dean gone? Then it hit him, Dean had
probably never come home.
Right... it was okay for him to stay out all night without a ring of salt and
protective spells. He wasn't gonna get the phone... it was probably Dean,
feeling guilty or something. Let him. He fucking should.
The phone stopped for a few minutes, then started all over again. Cursing, he
got off the bed, and instantly started to hop as the throbbing ache in his foot
reminded him of his cut. Course that made Dean public enemy number one since it
too was his damned fault.
Huffing under his breath, he picked up the phone. "What?" His crabby tone
subsided the minute he was told there had been an accident. Dean ... Dean had
been in a car accident. Sam felt like the earth had been cut out from under
him. For a moment, he stuttered his questions, then pulled himself together.
Winchester's didn't fall apart when shit went down.
Much calmer, he refused to answer their questions until they told him Dean's
condition, and he could breath easier knowing his brother was banged up and had
a concussion, but that he'd be fine. Then he muttered "No, dad's not here, and
I don't have car." The voice on the other end was suggesting a taxi, but he
hanged up.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, he was limping down the long hallway of the hospital,
when he saw Dean emerge from a room. Seeing his brother's pallor, and the cuts
and bruises on his face, Sam walked faster, hooking one arm over his brother's
shoulder and putting his other hand on his back as he gave him a hug. Sure,
he'd be pushed away and told Dean didn't do hugs, but it would be too late.
"You alright," he asked, almost meekly, speaking close to Dean's ear. "They
said nothing's broken. Always knew you were hard-headed."
===============================================================================
Dean woke up in the hospital.
That was bad enough, because if he had a list of places he’d rather fight a
bunch of zombies than be, the hospital would be really damned close to the top.
Of course what made it worse was he had also woken up with the worst fucking
headache of his life. Though whether that was due to the alcohol or the
concussion, the doctors helpfully informed him of, he wasn’t quite sure.
Thankfully his fake ID and his fake insurance card in his wallet both had the
same name on it. Of course both would be pretty much useless to him after this
because the cops were sure to slap Dean Miller with a DWI the first chance they
got.
His dad was going to fucking kill him…
Dean had almost panicked for a moment when they told him they’d called his
emergency contact before he remembered that Dad was away on a hunt. So maybe if
he got the Impala out of impoundment and fixed up before his father got back,
he’d be less dead meat. Since he wasn’t a minor (according to his fake ID) they
had to let him check out of the hospital, even though the doctor wanted to keep
him for another day for observation.
Fuck that, greedy money hungry bastards. His scans were all clean, he wasn’t
bleeding into his brain, he wanted to go home, take a bottle of aspirin, and go
to bed. Since he didn’t have his car, and couldn’t have driven it anyway, he
asked them to call him a cab to take him home. The last thing Dean had expected
when he walked out of his room was to almost literally run into Sam.
Dean stopped dead in his tracks, wondering for a moment if he were
hallucinating… again… and wondering if maybe the doctors were right and he
should stick around for a little while. Then Sam was hugging him and he was too
stunned to mutter up his normal “no-chick-flick” protests. Of course Sam
pressed so close to him, the younger boy’s breath in his ear, made all kinds of
thoughts and feelings Dean had no intention of examining right now churn around
in his gut making him feel even more nauseous than he already was. Thankfully
he felt too much like crap for any part of him to react… inappropriate.
“Ha ha.” Dean managed weakly at his brother’s lame joke, before grasping Sam’s
shoulders and easing the younger boy away from him. His eyes taking in Sam’s
worried face, the recent bruise on his jaw, and split lip. Guilt hitting him
swiftly like a kick to the gut and he released his brother quickly, staring
down at his shoes as though they had all the answers to the universe. Dean
cleared his throat self consciously.
“I’m fine.” He finally answered the younger boy’s first question. Not sure what
to say now, especially considering the last words he’d spoken to his brother…
and even though he’d said all that, even though he’d smacked the younger boy
hard enough to make him bleed, Sam was still here. How had he even gotten here
without a car or anything? Dean felt about two inches tall at the moment.
“They… called me a cab. To go home…” There, that was easy enough. Start with
the obvious, anything to get them past standing here in the middle of the
hospital corridor. Especially since standing upright was proving to be quite
unpleasant at the moment. He was already starting to sway a little unsteadily
on his feet. If he fell on his ass in the hall way they would never let him
leave…
===============================================================================
After he was gently pushed away and before Dean spoke again, there was a moment
of awkwardness. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist or really good at
reading your older brother to know what he was thinking about at that moment.
There was really nothing to be said. What happened, happened. Neither of them
would apologize... they’d just act like it never happened, just like they did
after many other blow ups.
Only this one was different. Dean had never hit him like that before, and Sam
wasn’t likely to forget. Still... he knew he’d pushed Dean’s buttons, mom being
his biggest one, so maybe he should have expected it.
When Dean mentioned the cab, Sam shook his head. “Nah, I got Jake’s cousin to
drive me over. He just graduated and has a car. He’s in the front, gonna give
us a ride home.
Sure he knew Dean didn’t like his redneck friends, but like they were any
better than them? Besides, it was better than paying for a taxi, and even Dean
would have to agree.
“Want a wheelchair?” he asked, jutting his jaw toward some chairs lined against
the wall, and smirking at Dean’s reaction. Wordlessly, he put his shoulder
under Dean’s arm and started to help him walk to the door. “So what happened?
They said you hit a tree.” There was a note of disbelief in his voice, and he
expected Dean to clarify their story. It was a hundred times more likely that
Dean had plowed over a demon or something that had wrecked the car.
===============================================================================
When Sam mentioned his friend’s cousin giving them a ride home Dean was really
too tired to argue, so he merely nodded. Immediately regretting the movement of
course, his neck and back were so fucking stiff he felt like he could barely
move.
Dean might not like the kid his brother had been hanging around with but it
wasn’t like they really had the extra cash to spare anyway, especially if he
was going to be out of work for a few days. Fuck, he should have already been
at work. He was sure Susan would understand, he had been unconscious at the
fucking hospital after a car accident after all, but he needed this job and
couldn’t afford to have her give it to someone else.
He gave the younger boy a sour look when Sam mentioned the wheelchairs. He
wasn’t fucking crippled after all. But he didn’t brush off the younger boy’s
help to the door either. Maybe that said something.
Dean sighed heavily when his brother asked him about the accident. There wasn’t
any real point in lying to his brother. Right now Dean didn’t think he could
come up with anything more convincing, or that Sam wouldn’t know immediately
was a lie, and needle him about it endlessly until he told him the truth.
“I was drunk.” He said simply. Hoping his brother would save the lecture until
after he’d had his bottle of aspirin and a nap.
===============================================================================
“Drunk.” Sam flatly said, looking over to search Dean’s face. There wasn’t a
hint of a joke or any indication he was hiding something, he just looked weary.
“Dean, you know better. You could have—“
They were outside and Jake’s fool of a cousin was honking his horn like they
were going to a party or something. Sighing, he gave Dean a look that said this
wasn’t finished, then he tugged the door of the truck open. Favoring one foot,
he got inside and scooted to the center, leaving room for Dean to get in next
to him.
Country music.
Sam grinned as he looked at Dean’s pained expression. Not that he was enjoying
it, but Dean liked to inflict some of his loud-assed music on him so it was fun
seeing him having to take someone else’s crap.
“Toby, this is Dean. My brother.”
Toby looked Dean over. “He doesn’t look that tough for the hard ass you say he
is.”
Sighing again, Sam just looked out the front window. It was gonna be a long
drive.
===============================================================================
Dean grimaced a little in pain at the loud honking horn and almost changed his
mind about the whole taxi versus them getting a ride home with this moron. But
Sam didn’t really give him much of a choice, getting into the truck and leaving
him to follow.
The entire drive Dean remained silent, staring out the passenger side window
and tuning out the idiot driving as he tuned out the music, if you could even
call that crap music. More like torture for the auditory senses. He rested his
head against the glass, keeping himself pressed as close to the door as he
could so he and Sam weren’t touching. He also made sure to keep his breaths
shallow, so he wouldn’t… smell… his brother.
Which just sounded really stupid but all of his senses seemed hyper aware of
the younger boy right now, and he couldn’t turn them off, so he ignored them as
best he could. Unfortunately not looking at Sam, not touching Sam, not smelling
Sam, did nothing to stop the memories of his dream from torturing him. He still
remembered how beautiful Sam had looked writhing on his lap. He still
remembered the taste of the younger boy’s lips and flesh. He still remembered
the sounds of his brother’s moans and the feel of his bare skin beneath his
hands…
When they finally got home the truck was barely stopped before Dean opened the
door and got out, heading straight for the front door as fast as he could
without even an offer of thanks for the ride. After letting himself inside the
house Dean went straight for the medicine cabinet and downed about five aspirin
at once.
“I’m going to bed.” Dean told his brother simply when he heard the back door
open but didn’t look at the younger boy as he headed down the hall to their
father’s room. Unfortunately the house their Dad had rented wasn’t big enough
for them to have separate rooms, but when John was away it was pretty much a
given Dean would be taking over the extra room for himself.
He’d call work later… Dean decided as he collapsed face down on the bed with a
groan. Hoping sleep would claim him quickly.
===============================================================================
Even though he chatted with Toby, the drive back was extremely uncomfortable
for Sam since his brother was being an unsociable douche bag. He ignored Toby’s
questions and basically pretended neither of them were in the car with him. Sam
scrutinized his face, and for once, he could get no reading on what Dean was
thinking. Maybe he was still angry. Yeah, he probably blamed him for getting
drunk, getting the car wrecked and his license probably pulled.
When they got there, Dean shot out of the car like a bat out of hell, without
even a freakin’ ‘thank you.’ Embarrassed, Sam got out and did his own thanking.
“Told you he’s an asshole,” he aid with a shrug, as if that explained
everything.
Toby was thick skinned and just gave the thumbs up, honking as he hightailed it
out of there, kicking up a bunch of dust.
Sam was still coughing when he got inside just in time for Dean to announce he
was gonna go rest. Waiting a few minutes, he followed Dean to their dad’s room
and opened the door. “I called your boss. She said to just call her tonight and
let her know if you’ll be in tomorrow.” There was a long silence, and Sam
started to leave, thinking Dean had slid into a bad mood or he was asleep,
though he doubted it.
===============================================================================
Dean heard the door of their father’s room open and groaned almost inaudibly
into the pillow. God damn it, why couldn’t Sam just give him a little break?
Couldn’t the younger boy could go back to torturing him after he’d slept off
the worst of this fucking hangover/concussion? He was only asking for a few
hours of peace and quiet, was that really too much to ask?
He was a little bit surprised when the younger boy didn’t launch into his
aborted lecture regarding the idiocy of drunk driving and how he could have
gotten himself killed instead of just his head banged bad enough to have a
really fucking hot dream about having sex with his baby brother… Instead
telling him he’d already called his job, that he apparently still had after
all, and he should call his boss later on if he was well enough to show up
tomorrow.
Dean was so stunned he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, and he just laid there
for a moment, wondering if he was hallucinating again, until he heard the floor
board creek signaling that the younger boy was going to leave.
“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean finally spoke, hopefully loud enough for the other boy to
hear even though he didn’t lift his head from the pillow. Not wanting his
brother to see the telltale wetness in his eyes from the sudden emotion that
welled up inside of him threatening to choke him.
===============================================================================
Sam nodded. "Call me if you need anything." He left the door slightly ajar and
headed to the living room. About to flop down onto the sofa, he saw the
bloodied mess he'd left, not that he'd forgotten... his foot still throbbed
with pain.
Bringing the dust bin, he took care of all the glass. Then he used a wet cloth
to rub the blood stains out of the wooden floor. Crap, a pinkish tinge remained
because he'd left it there too long and it had sunk into the wood. Getting some
hydrogen peroxide, Sam worked on it some more, scrubbing mindlessly.
Only his mind was working too hard, on the events that lead to his accident. He
kept reviewing what he'd said to Dean, right before big brother popped him and
his world turned on its axis. He'd seen Dean as a lot of things in his life
time. Caretaker. Big brother. Protector. Dad's asshole second. Friend. The one
person he would trust to be at his back at all times. But never enemy. Never
someone who'd hit him in anger like that. He'd seen a flash in his brother's
eyes, like he hadn't wanted to stop. And it made Sam sick, because he didn't
want to believe it.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see that he'd deserved it. God he so
wanted to talk it out with Dean, cause he didn't know what to do now. He'd been
ready to hit the road today, he still might later, he told himself. But not
while Dean was recovering. He had to make sure his brother was okay, before he
left him.
As the day progressed and got hotter, Sam became more restless. He'd taken
water and aspiring to Dean a couple of times, but there had been no
conversation. Whether Dean was in pain from the alcohol or accident, he wasn't
saying.
After watching some t.v., and taking a book out to the porch and reading for a
while, Sam realized he was getting hungry. There wasn't much in the cabinets or
fridge, not even cereal. Well there was cereal, but he'd finished the milk.
Pulling himself up, he went inside and changed the bandages on his foot, then
shoved it back into sneakers. Taking a quick look into Dean's room, he left
quietly, grabbing a twenty out of his brother's wallet.
Another moment later, he was bicycling away toward town. At least the sun would
set on his way back and it would be a little cooler. Who was he kidding, it
would be just as hot but the sun wouldn't beat down on him.
===============================================================================
Dean had slept for most of the day. He woke up a few times when Sam came into
the room to bring him some aspirin (bless him) and water, staying awake only
long enough to swallow down the pills before passing out again. At some point
during the day he’d taken off his shirt and didn’t even bother getting
underneath the light sheet because it was so fucking hot. The heat making him
feel nauseous, even more so than just from the concussion and hangover, and he
might have gotten up to throw up a few times too, but he didn’t really
remember.
It was approaching evening now, Dean could tell by the slant of the light
coming through the window falling across his sweaty back. He didn’t feel quite
as sick as before, thank god. He must have slept off most of the effects of the
hangover, though his head still pounded fiercely from the concussion.
Aspirin… definitely more aspirin was needed. Sam hadn’t brought him any for a
while, the younger boy must have gotten tired of playing nurse maid for his
pathetic older brother.
Dean groaned softly as he pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled into the
bathroom. After relieving himself, taking a few more painkillers, and brushing
the foulness from his teeth he felt marginally more human. He made his way into
the kitchen then, remembering he had to call his boss he did. Reassuring the
middle aged woman that he was fine, nothing broken, and yes he’d be into work
tomorrow. Dean knew he couldn’t afford to be out of work, especially now. Since
he’d probably have to pay to get the Impala out of impoundment or something as
well as feeding his brother. Maybe he could work extra hours for the next few
days to make up for the time he lost today…
Speaking of Sam, his brother was probably hungry. Damn it, he needed to go
grocery shopping, which was going to be pretty tough to do without a fucking
car. But he thought there might be a package of frozen hot dogs in the fridge
and a can of beans left under the counter. Unless Sam already finished them
off. Guess he should make sure his brother hadn’t already eaten before he
cooked anything, he wasn’t feeling up to eating anything himself so if Sam had
there wasn’t much point.
“Sammy?” He called and frowned slightly when he didn’t get an answer. Not like
Sam wouldn’t hear him, the house wasn’t that big. Dean didn’t hear the
television on in the living room but he checked there anyway in case his
brother was reading (the geek) or taking a nap, then he checked outside on the
porch knowing it was another of the younger boy’s favorite spots to read.
Lastly he checked their room, what was normally their room but now Sam’s while
Dad was gone, and froze in the doorway. Sam wasn’t there, but when his eyes
fell on the clothes strewn about and the packed duffle by the bed Dean felt
himself go cold.
He’d told Sam to get out… to leave… yesterday… He hadn’t meant it, he’d been
angry, pissed… hurt… by what his brother had said. But he hadn’t meant it, he
didn’t want Sam to go, he loved that boy more than anything despite what a pain
in the ass he could be. He never thought Sam would actually leave… even if Sam
did hate him…
“Sam!” Dean ran back to the back door, throwing it open, and called his
brother’s name desperately a few more times. God damn it. Dad was going to kill
him… if Dean didn’t do it himself… and he didn’t even have a car and couldn’t
go looking for Sam. Dean took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm
down. Sam’s bag had still been in his room, which meant the younger boy hadn’t
actually left, he’d just gone out, right? Sam wasn’t dumb enough to just take
off with only the shirt on his back. God damn him, he was going to kill that
brat for taking off without telling him. He didn’t care if the boy was almost
sixteen, he was going to take him over his knee the minute he stepped through
that door… if he came back…
Feeling sick, like he just might throw up again, Dean went back into the house
and collapsed on the sofa in the living room, burying his face in his hands.
Hot tears burning his eyes and his throat tight with despair.
“Please come back… Sammy…”
 
===============================================================================
It was a long hot ride, so once he got to town, Sam was more than happy to hang
out for a little while and relax. He’d cooled off in the grocery store, taking
his time as he picked up a few necessities, milk being the most important, but
he wasn’t going to overload himself since he was biking it. After wasting as
much time as he could ‘using’ the stores air conditioning services, he walked
out and crossed the street to the diner.
He ran into some school friends and sat and had a coke with them. They were
swapping stories about what they’d done or would do over summer vacation and
when they turned to him, he just gave an unsmiling shrug. “Nothing planned.”
Yeah, how lame did that sound? It wasn’t always gonna be this way, he told
himself. One day he’d have real plans, the kind you could share with people.
Someday he wouldn’t have to lie about why no one could come over, why group
homework had to be done in the library or at someone else’s home. He changed
the topic, and then was a bit surprised at home many of them didn’t plan on
taking the SATs. Their parents wanted them to, but they couldn’t be bothered.
He gave a semi bitter laugh. Life sucked.
One of the girls mentioned a party in a few days, and he just nodded but knew
he probably wouldn’t go. If he stayed, Dean would find ten reasons why he
shouldn’t be out at night and remind him that school events were different.
Right, well maybe he wouldn’t tell Dean. Maybe he’d go.
That was when he saw that it was getting dark. “Gotta go,” he got up and waved
at them, then went to the counter to pick up two sandwiches and a soup. He made
sure they packed them well and put them in a double plastic wrap, before
heading out and putting all his bags over the handlebars of his bike.
Yeah… he looked like a dork. Hoping his friends hadn’t seen him, he took off,
pedaling as fast as he could, despite the burning sensation under one foot. It
was cooler now, but the air was still warm and sticky, and the exercise had him
covered in a sheen of sweat by the time he got home and hopped off, pushing the
bike up against the porch wall.
The light on the porch was on so Dean had to be up, or had been at some point.
He pushed the front door open and stepped inside. “Dean?” He took a couple more
steps and saw his brother laying on the sofa. “I got dinner. You want soup or
sandwich, or is that a dumb question?” Depending on the answer, he’d know how
his brother was doing, but the fact that he was out of the bedroom meant he was
on the mend.
===============================================================================
Dean wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there on the couch before he forced himself
to move. Forced himself to do something “productive” rather than sit and wallow
in guilt and misery.
First thing was first, he made a few calls, called in every favor he could,
used up most of what little he had in his bank account in a check over the
phone to pay the fine to get his car out of impoundment, and arranged for the
Impala to be dropped off at the local garage. He had a friend at the garage so
he’d be able to keep it there, though Dean couldn’t afford to have it fixed,
he’d have to do it himself, which wasn’t a bad thing except until he could he’d
be without a car and that meant walking everywhere.
Next thing, even though he really fucking didn’t want to right now, he called
their father knowing the older man would expect an update from him. Of course
Dean had lied out his ass, telling the older man that everything was fine, no
trouble at all. Either he’d gotten a lot better at lying to his father than he
realized or his dad was just too distracted by the hunt right now to notice it.
Whichever reason Dean was glad for it when his father didn’t ask him any
questions, giving him only the typical “take care of your brother” line before
hanging up.
Dean had run to the bathroom and thrown up again after the phone call.
The next few hours Dean had spent curled up on the couch, waiting. Feeling sick
in body, heart, and soul. Every time he thought he heard a noise outside he’d
gotten up and rushed to the door, expecting, hoping, it was Sam… every time he
returned to the couch feeling just a little more sick. What if Sam didn’t come
home? What if his brother really had decided to simply leave, even with nothing
more than the clothes on his back… Did Sam really hate him so much? What if he
did…
Dean wasn’t sure exactly when he’d fallen asleep, passed out was more like it,
but he woke up to the sound of his brother’s voice and for a moment he really
thought the younger boy standing in front of him was just a dream. He stared at
his brother mutely for a few minutes before he slowly pushed himself up into a
more or less sitting position.
“Where the fuck were you?” Dean was a little surprised how soft and rough his
voice sounded to his own ears, rather than the angry shout he’d almost expected
the question to come out as.
===============================================================================
“In town. Got some food,” Sam answered, with a shrug, looking at Dean, really
looking at him. It was as if there was some secret message that Dean was trying
to convey, but if there was, he didn’t get it. One thing he was pretty certain
about was that despite the language, Dean wasn’t angry right this moment.
When Dean didn’t say anything immediately, he put his hand out to touch Dean’s
forehead. He was warm and clammy, but then it was so freakin’ hot. “You’re kind
of flushed, maybe you should hit the shower, cool off. Even if you don’t have a
fever, you’ll feel better. I’ve been doing it all day… could it be hotter?” He
rolled his eyes, and walked away to put the milk and ice cream in the fridge.
For a few moments, he let the cold air from the fridge cool him off, but he
couldn’t stand there all night.
When he got back, he took his burger out of the bag, and then put the sandwich
and soup out in front of Dean. “I got some milk and ice cream,” he said as he
dug into his pocket and brought out Dean’s change, and put it on the table too.
“Took a twenty from your wallet,” his eyes searched Dean’s again to see if that
was okay. Usually, he wouldn’t have a second thought about it, but lately, Dean
had been acting strange and had been all over his case about everything. Maybe
he should have skipped the ice cream, but it had been on sale.
A little tense with worry, he went to the other side of the coffee table and
dropped down to the ground, toeing his shoes off and crossing his long legs.
Maybe if they got through just one night with no arguments, maybe things would
go back to normal. Maybe.
===============================================================================
Dean found he had no response to the simple reply and shrug that Sam gave him.
He found himself wanting to both wring the younger boy’s neck for going out
without telling him and scaring the shit out of him to wanting to hug his
brother as tightly as he possibly could and beg Sam to promise not to leave.
The packed duffel he’d found in their room of course still fresh in his mind.
Maybe it was best then that his brother’s next action, leaning forward and
pressing his hand against his forehead, stunned him both motionless and silent.
Of course recalling the… dream… he’d had after the accident. Sam’s hands
touching his face, cleaning the cuts, taking care of him when it was usually
the other way around, and then climbing into his lap all soft skin and slender
muscles…
Dean jerked, pulling back from the younger boy’s touch like it burned him, in a
delayed reaction. Snapping himself out of the memory and he was glad that he
was already flushed and didn’t have to explain it. Not like he could, not like
he ever would.
When Sam returned from the kitchen and put some food and his money down on the
table in front of him Dean simply stared at it, saying nothing. He just didn’t
know what to say. Sam’s silence and brooding anger over the last few days, his
scalding insults about him and their family, the younger boy’s uncaring words
about their mother, it was all so fresh in his mind despite how he’d tried to
drown it out with alcohol last night. So was how he’d hit his brother, and the
dream… Sam begging him to make it better, practically begging for his kisses,
his touches, moaning and rocking in his lap, rubbing his hard dick against his
stomach…
And his brother was sitting across the table from him now, completely oblivious
to Dean’s turmoil and filthy thoughts. It was easier not to look at Sam, so he
wouldn’t see that split lip and bruise and remember how Sam had tasted. It was
easier to get up, mumbling something about a shower, as he stumbled out of
their living room and down the hall to the bathroom than to be in Sam’s
presence right now. Ignoring the food Sam had bought for him, not like he would
be able to keep any of it down anyway, and ignoring his brother’s eyes
following him.
===============================================================================
Watching Dean get up abruptly, barely saying a word to him since he’d entered
the room, Sam felt a familiar tensing in his belly. His brother’s censure and
disapproval often made him feel just like this, only right now, he had no clue
what he’d done wrong. Was it taking the money? Was it the icecream. Was it just
existing?
He took another bite of his burger but the edge of his hunger was gone. And so
was the light in his eyes. Nothing he did lately was good enough. Nothing. And
everything he said was wrong. Had he changed that much? Or was Dean just tired
of him.
Dropping his food, he rocked back, thinking of the things Dean had said in the
garage last night. And later, worse things. Wanting him gone. His eyes going a
bit moist, but he vowed not to cry, and turned the t.v. on instead, loud enough
to drown out his thoughts.
It worked for a time, but as nearly forty-five minutes passed, he got up. He
practically stormed to the bathroom, knocked once, and walked inside. “Dean,
you alright?” he asked, unceremoniously pulling the shower curtain partly aside
and seeing him standing there under the water.
Sam practically winced at the realization Dean was fine. “Do you want me to
leave?” he asked bluntly, unable to hold back the painful question. “I don’t
know what I did wrong, I don’t Dean. But it had to be pretty bad cause the way
you look at me...” He ran his hand through his hair, then stepped away, taking
in his brother’s face one last time.
===============================================================================
Dean didn’t waste any time getting into the shower. The cold water wasn’t all
that good for his aching muscles he found out, but it worked well enough for
clearing his head and also taking care of the less than desirable reactions of
his body that had sprung up just from being in Sam’s presence. Before he’d
nearly always felt half hard whenever his little brother was around, now with
that damned dream fresh in his mind…
He wasn’t sure how long he stood underneath the icy spray, refusing to turn the
temperature up even a little. He was shivering, his teeth practically aching
with the cold, and Dean knew it was almost dangerous cooling down his body this
quickly from the temperature it had been at before but he didn’t really care
right now.
That was about when Sam knocked on the bathroom door, but Dean refused to
answer. Not to his great surprise the younger boy opened the door and came in
anyway but before he could yell at Sam to get the fuck out his brother was
yanking aside the shower curtain and Dean could only stand there, soaking wet,
shivering, and buck naked staring at the younger boy with wide eyes and his
mouth slightly agape.
Did he want him to leave? Don’t know what he did wrong? Like all of this was
his fault?!
Dean closed his mouth and his eyes turned hard, his earlier misery and fear
quickly sparking over to anger. So Sam wanted him to spell out what was wrong?
Fine.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Everything is peachy. Not like you refused to speak to me
for days. Not like you’re constantly telling me how much you hate your life,
me, and Dad. Not like you told me you don’t give a damn about our mother. Not
like I went into your room and saw your packed bag and thought you were gone.
How the hell do you want me to look at you?”
===============================================================================
Sam flinched at the attack. Dean had no idea how much he could hurt him just
with his disapproval, just with a look. But when he put stuff into words, it
was so much worse. Almost as bad as the physical blow he’d dealt. Didn’t he
know that? Didn’t he realize it? His brother had always read him so well,
didn’t he care? Was he doing this to him on purpose? Did he think that just
because he was younger, he’d take everything that was meted out?
“Not like I have anyone else to tell around here. Not like you didn’t tell me
you’re tired of working to feed me. Not like you didn’t tell me to get the hell
out.” He shouted right back, in the same sarcastic tone, but wasn’t gonna
mention mom, or how out of control Dean had been when he struck him.
His throat constricted, his eyes stung with unshed tears. “I should’a gone last
night... I would have.” Staggering blindly back, he found the door handle and
walked out, leaving the door wide open. Dean was right, he hated his life right
now. The one thing that had made it bearable was gone. His brother.
Stalking right past the uneaten food, he went to his room and grabbed his back
pack. He looked at the stack of books by his bed, then turned away from them,
from everything that was home. Back in the living room, he grabbed the change
Dean had left on the table. Wasn’t very much, but it was better than going
without a dime on him.
Glancing one last time toward the bathroom, he walked out the door, slamming
the screen door shut behind him. Stomach churning, almost aching, he walked out
of the yard and headed down the lonely road.
He hadn’t gone too far, when he got to a bus stop and sat down, tears now
streaming down his face. His brother, his own brother was treating him like he
was shit. He didn’t take crap from his dad, he wasn’t gonna from Dean. Didn’t
expect it from him.
He kept wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand, but there was always more
wetness and it bugged the heck out of him. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he
shouldn’t be crying. He needed to man up. He needed to develop a thick skin, to
not care what they thought, what Dean thought. Pulling his feet up onto the
bench, he put his arms around his knees and rested his head. His face stuck to
his knees, but the heat didn’t bother him now... he had other things to think
about.
===============================================================================
Sam hadn’t denied any of it. He hadn’t denied that he hated their father. He
hadn’t denied that he hated Dean. He hadn’t denied that he didn’t give a rats
ass about their mom that had been killed. He simply threw it in his face what
he’d said about working to feed Sam, which he had never said he was tired of,
which he’d never considered a hardship, but he’d just been angry at Sam for the
boy’s childish attitude regarding that stupid camping trip when Dean had more
important things to worry about. Like taking care of his brother and keeping
him safe.
Then Sam went on to further flay him alive reminding him of how he’d told Sam
to “get out”, something he’d said in a fit of anger because Sam had pushed all
his buttons and then some, provoking him to the point where he’d actually hit
the younger boy. Of course he hadn’t meant it. The terror he’d felt when he
thought Sam had left earlier was proof enough of that. And as though Dean
wasn’t ripping himself up inside with guilt over what happened yesterday… his
brother went on to confirm he had been fully ready to leave, last night…
Why hadn’t he? Did it even matter now?
It would have been far kinder if Sam had simply ripped open his chest and tore
out his heart with his bare hands and stomped on it. He wished Sam had.
Then Sam did leave. He walked out of the bathroom and Dean fell back against
the shower wall, the only thing holding him up by that point. When he heard the
front screen door slam that wasn’t even enough anymore and he slid down the
wall to collapse on the cold tile floor. Not that he really felt the cold
anymore.
Every part of his being wanted to run after the younger boy. Wanted to grab him
and shake sense into him. To yell at him to stop acting like a fucking idiot.
To yell at him to stop acting so fucking selfish, he wasn’t the only one who
had it tough, he wasn’t the only one who made sacrifices, for the job, for
their family, they all did, even dad. Another part of him wanted to fall on his
knees in front of the younger boy, beg Sam for forgiveness, promise his brother
anything he wanted as long as he didn’t leave. Instead he simply sat there. Sam
had made himself very clear. Sam hated him. Hated everything about their life.
Didn’t want to stay, what could Dean possibly say then, what could he possibly
promise that would change his mind?
Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t change Dad. He couldn’t change himself. He
couldn’t change his life. He’d done everything in his power his whole life to
take care of that boy and try to make him happy, but that wasn’t good enough
anymore. It obviously never had been. So Dean merely sat there, like the
useless thing he was, wondering if it was possible to die of hypothermia in a
heat wave. Not that he really cared. The icy cold water raining over him
rinsing his silent tears down the drain.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon

Hours had to have gone by. He didn't have a watch on but he guessed maybe it
was about nine or ten. It was pitch black out here, with only the porch lights
from distant houses dotting the street, and the occasional streak of lights
from a passing car.
Idiot. Would have been so much better to just have kept going once he was in
town. No, he'd thought Dean would want food... he'd pretty much rejected that.
Then he'd shown him how much he hated him.
Eyes squeezed tight, Sam tried to think when he'd first noticed that sometimes
Dean acted like he couldn't stand being in the same room. He'd told himself it
was his imagination, because most of the time his brother was... normal.
Helping him the best he could. Playing the referee between him and his dad, and
getting along except when he overdid his 'dad's soldier boy' act.
The thought of how kind and wonderful Dean could be, how he was the only one
Sam could count had new tears rolling down his cheeks. Things changed. He
wasn't the cute little kid that followed Dean around anymore, now he was just
the 'pain in his ass.'
He didn't know quite when he realized that the hot moisture on his cheeks
weren't just tears. It started to rain. Great. Curling up onto the bus stop
bench, and resting his head on the back, tears mixing with the rain. Once, his
big brother would have come after him, wrapped his strong arms around him and
told him everything would be fine. He'd have made it all better, made the hurt
go away. Now he caused a lot of it, never took anything back. Now it was like
Sam was the enemy.
"Fine Dean... have a happy life." He nodded, and even if he was bitter, he
meant it. He really did.
===============================================================================
He didn't know how long he remained there. When he finally did move, he did not
feel like his body was under his control. He felt like a zombie. His mind
completely disconnected from all thought, his body moving only on instinct. His
entire body felt numb as he pushed himself up and stumbled out of the tub and
at the same time every inch of him ached. His fingers fumbled to turn off the
water in the shower because they were shaking so much. His legs felt like water
beneath him and he wasn't exactly sure how he remained standing at all.
He hurt everywhere. Mind, body, and soul and he just wanted the pain to go
away. That's why he opened the cupboard under the sink and took out the first
aid kit. Opening it and grabbing the first bottle of painkillers he found, he
didn't even care which ones they were. Then he walked out of the bathroom, down
the hall to the kitchen. Not bothering to cover up because he was alone. He
opened up a cupboard and took down his father's bottle of jack.
With the pills and the liquor Dean made his way into the living room and sat
down on the couch. The untouched food and Sam's barely eaten meal were still
there and Dean kicked at the rickety coffee table violently. Tipping it over
and spilling everything onto the floor but he didn't care.
He snapped open the bottle of pills and upended it into his mouth, not sure
exactly how many he swallowed down with a long pull from the jack. The liquor
burned and numbed his throat at the same time. Soon he knew he would be
completely numb, he wouldn't be able to feel anything and that's what he
wanted.
He was tired of feeling hurt, guilty, and ashamed. He was sick. He was a
monster. That had to be why Sam hated him so much now. His brother must have
realized the twisted thoughts going on in his head. Sensed them, if not
understood them, and was disgusted. Why wouldn't he be? His own brother lusting
after him… no wonder Sam wanted to leave, had left… Maybe Sam would be better
off...
He was too numb to feel the tears spilling down his cheeks again. Dean dropped
the empty pill bottle and stretched out on the couch, occasionally drinking
from the bottle of Jack Daniels, polishing off a good quarter of the hard
liquor before he knew it. His Dad was going to kill him for not looking after
Sammy, for the sick twisted thoughts going through his head, for letting Sam
leave…
Maybe his Dad wouldn't have to…
===============================================================================
The pain... the self hatred... the emotions were so thick in the air, they
fanned his needs, igniting his desire to feed. Dean... such a lovely source of
energy... so ripe for the taking, and he wasn’t about to resist. Having left
‘feelers’ around his prey and able to sift through Dean’s mind and emotions, he
knew exactly what had the elder Winchester in knots.... his younger brother,
always Sam. Fool... he’d let Sam go. But he wouldn’t allow that, not when Sam
was the source of these intense emotions.
Dropping down next to the couch and sitting on the floor, he was the spitting
image of young Sam Winchester. Almond shaped hazel eyes set at an angle, sharp
features and a jaw that would in the future become more prominent. A slender,
lanky build, with well-defined muscles. Nothing could distinguish him from the
real thing. Not his voice, not his mannerisms, and not his taste or scent. For
all intents and purposes, he was Sam.
He sat shirtless, but in shorts, legs crossed and watching Dean for a long
moment, watching the wet tears slide down this cheeks, noticing the whiteness
of the knuckles gripping the bottle as if holding on for dear life. The scent
of despair was intoxicating.
Sam put his palm low on Dean’s bare belly, his long pinky almost touching
Dean’s flaccid penis. “Don’t cry Dean, please don’t.” He moved his hand
slightly, leaning in so his face hovered over Dean’s chest and he was looking
into his brother’s eyes. “Not over me.”
He licked his lips and looked down, too shy to look in Dean’s eyes “I could
make you feel better, like you did for me. Drive everything... the pain... the
sadness... all of it out of your mind, if you want me to.” His lips curved into
a small smile, and a slight flush crawled up his cheeks. He hesitated then
looked up. “I could do it better than that“ his gaze shifted to the bottle and
back. “I want to taste it on your tongue.”
===============================================================================
The touch of the warm hand against the bare skin of his stomach made Dean
flinch slightly in surprise.
What the…
Somehow he managed to drag his eyes open despite the fact that they felt like
they had been glued shut with crazy glue. Maybe they had been? He wasn’t sure…
He was so fucking tired… That could have be because of the pills or the liquor,
he wasn’t sure which at this point. Most likely it was the mixing of both in
his gut making everything thick and fuzzy in his head.
It wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling but at least the pain in his head from the
concussion was gone. Hmmm… maybe they should prescribe this remedy in the
hospital. He’d have to remember it for the future. Too bad he couldn’t remember
what he had taken or even how much, oh well, it didn’t matter…
Dean blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Everything swam together
and when he turned his head the room itself felt like it was tilting. Whoa… he
hoped he didn’t throw up. He hated throwing up. His brother’s concerned face
finally swam into view and Dean blinked a little stupidly at the younger boy.
Sammy? No… Sammy was gone. Sammy had left. Sammy hated him… Crying… was he
crying? Lifted one hand to his face, found he had a difficult time finding it,
but he finally did and his fingers definitely came away from his cheeks wet.
Huh… he supposed he was crying. Because his brother was gone, had left, because
Sam hated him…
Dean’s breath hitched a little in his throat as he turned his eyes back to the
younger boy. His wet fingers slowly reaching out to run across Sam’s cheek.
Warm… soft… Sam was here. He hadn’t left? He thought Sam had left, was gone
forever, but Sam was back. Dean felt the cold pain in his heart melt away just
a little. Damn, he hadn’t even noticed it was still there, it hadn’t been
warmed in the least by the burning liquor he drank, but now it had eased that
tiny bit. Warmed by Sam’s presence…
“Sammy…” He whispered his brother’s name, slurring every letter, but he didn’t
care as he cupped the younger boy’s cheek in his palm. Yes, he wanted the pain
gone, he wanted the sadness gone, he wanted the longing gone… he wanted Sam. “I
want…”
===============================================================================
“Me. You want me.” Smiling, Sam turned his face into Dean’s palm, hiding
briefly from him. Breathing into his brother’s calloused palm, he stuck his wet
tongue out and swept it up and down, tasting the salty remains of his tears,
and hearing the sharp intake of Dean’s breath.
When he pulled back, he took in Dean’s flushed face and the brightness of the
eyes focused on him... only him. Bringing his mouth messily down over Dean’s,
he licked his thick full lips, tracing their outline and pulling back.
Again, he took a minute to collect himself, feeling Dean’s hot breaths fanning
over his own mouth and cheek. He reveled in the Dean’s tangible need festering
to the surface, resisted under the guise of shyness, and when he couldn’t take
it any longer, he bought his mouth down again, this time with a groan as he
opened his mouth for his brother, begging him, want him to plunder and take
what he needed.
As they kissed, Sam slowly moved his hand in circles, each time a little lower,
until his palm was sliding down and up Dean’s shaft. Every so often, he would
stop, as if to forget, then start up again. With each pass of his hand, his
brother’s satin-soft skin stretched tauter over his hardening cock, filling Sam
with a sensation of power. More, he wanted more... of Dean needing, wanting,
craving... he kissed him harder, worked harder to make Dean forget
everything... everything but this...
===============================================================================
Yes. He wanted Sam. He wanted Sam so much it hurt. It hurt when his brother was
near him. It hurt even worse when Sam was gone. But Sam was back now… his
brother was back, and he couldn’t stop from gasping sharply when the younger
boy nuzzled into his palm, licking at it and Dean felt a flush travel along the
entire length of his body, pooling in his groin.
“Sammy…” Dean breathed again, almost in awe, and then Sam’s soft lips were on
his and he forgot how to think. All that mattered was the feel of those soft
lips caressing his own, that slick wet, hot tongue licking and Dean couldn’t
contain the groan of desire that escaped his throat. Parting his lips eagerly,
however his brother pulled back before he could and Dean felt that familiar
cold panic settle in his gut.
He’d pushed too fast, Sam didn’t really want this, he’d disgusted the younger
boy with his sick desires. But Sam didn’t run away from him in disgust, in
fact, the younger boy was still so close he could feel his soft panting breaths
against his face and it made Dean’s lips feel tight and tingle in anticipation.
His fingers itching to reach out and pull Sam back down to him but he felt
frozen in place by that ever present fear when he was around Sam lately.
Don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t hate me… He begged silently,
looking up into brother’s eyes. And then Sam kissed him again and the fragile
threads holding him back all snapped at once. The bottle of booze long
forgotten fell to the floor and his hands found their way into Sam’s soft hair,
tangling in it as he held Sam close and his own tongue slipped between his
brother’s parted lips.
He savored the delicious taste of his little brother as he explored every inch
of that hot wet mouth. Gasping against his brother’s soft lips when he felt the
younger boy’s hand sliding lower on his stomach. Touching him… oh god… oh fuck…
caressing his cock… Tracing up and down his length, and he was so hard so fast
it hurt. He moaned helplessly into the younger boy’s mouth.
Sam… Sammy… Sam…
He whined every time his brother’s almost tentative touches along his flesh
stopped for even a moment, his hips bucking up against his will, seeking more.
He was so hard already he was leaking, precome pooling against his belly. His
hands slid through Sam’s soft hair, down his neck, petting along his bare back,
but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, and when he could no longer stand the
ache he grasped Sam and pulled the younger boy up onto the couch with him.
Letting Sam straddle his hips and rubbing his hard dick against his brother’s
ass, leaving a damp trail on the younger boy’s shorts.
Dean groaned loudly, obscenely, needy, and the sound of it made him freeze,
looking up at his brother almost fearfully. Had he gone too far too fast?
===============================================================================

With each subtle motion of his ass, Sam urged Dean to grind harder against him,
worked him up until was out of control. So good, so fucking good... He fed on
Dean’s need, enflaming it, lusting after Dean’s lust...
Dean’s loud groan had him opening his eyes. The fear in Dean’s eyes was
absolutely delicious. Passively staring right back at his brother, he tortured
him for a spell... let him wonder.
Then he searched for Dean’s hand, and pulled it up his thigh, placing it over
his own cock straining against his shorts. “Me too,” he said, pressing Dean’s
hand down, and then started to move his ass over Dean’s cock again. He started
slow and easy, then threw all caution to the winds and started to ride Dean
hard.
He knew the material of his shorts had to be chafing, hurting... but he didn’t
give Dean a chance to complain. Right now, Dean would take him any way he could
get him... take as little or as much as he gave, he was in the rider’s seat...
literally.
Still fucking against Dean, he dropped down over him, kissing him hard...
letting their tongues tangle, tasting Dean’s darkest desires even as he made
them come true.
He dragged his mouth down Dean’s throat, sucking on him lightly, then his
chest. He licked and kissed, grazing his teeth along the ridges of Dean’s
muscles, and moving his mouth lower. Practically doubled over, he couldn’t
bring his mouth any lower down Dean’s belly without scooting his body down too.
He looked up. “I ... I saw a site on the net where...” he licked his lips,
looked like he was in pain as he continued. “Do you want me to try to suck you
off, Dean?” His eyes held both promise and fear.
===============================================================================
Dean barely dared to breathe, though he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering
so hard against his ribs it felt like it was trying to break out of him. Shit.
He was such a fucking idiot. He was a sick fucking pervert. How could he have
let himself touch his brother this way, god damn it? Even if Sam had seemed to…
want it…
He tried to brace himself for his brother’s angry words. For Sam to call him
sick and evil and pull away from him like he had the plague. He waited, trying
to brace himself for all of Sam’s angry words and maybe even his brother’s
angry fists. Sam hitting him like Dean had hit the younger boy before in anger.
He wouldn’t have stopped Sam, he wouldn’t have raised a fucking hand to defend
himself from his brother’s wrath. Even if Sam decided to plunge a knife into
his gut he wouldn’t have stopped the younger boy. He deserved it and more after
all…
All of this went through his mind in the few seconds Sam just sat there and
looked at him, and he couldn’t stop the slight flinch and tensing as he
prepared for his brother to lash out against him even if he wouldn’t fight him.
Expecting violence he was surprised when Sam merely took his hand and… oh god…
feeling his little brother’s hard cock in his shorts, the heat of him burning
through his palm practically like a brand, made Dean groan almost in pain.
Sam’s hand pressing down on his, his brother’s ass rubbing against his cock,
and Dean needed no further encouragement. Squeezing the younger boy’s dick
through his jeans, and groaning as he rubbed up against Sam harder and harder.
The movement of his hips practically lifting the younger boy up from the couch,
the friction almost more pain than pleasure but he couldn’t stop. The idea of
coming against his brother’s ass, his spunk soaking the material of his shorts,
made Dean practically whimper and it was a wonder he didn’t blow right then and
there.
“Sam… Sammy…” Dean whimpered until Sam was kissing him again, and he
practically fucked the younger boy’s mouth with his tongue. His other hand
sliding through Sam’s hair, down the younger boy’s back, slipping underneath
his brother’s shorts to squeeze his ass while Sam’s lips did sweet evil things
to his neck and chest.
Oh god, this had to be a dream, it was too perfect…
Sam looking up at him, so sweet and innocent, eager and fearful at the same
time when his brother offered to give him a blow job nearly stopped Dean’s
heart. Yes! Oh god, yes! He was so hard he hurt. It probably wouldn’t take much
more than the touch of those soft sweet lips to the head of his cock to make
him come all over his baby brother’s face. He was a little surprised he hadn’t
come already. He wanted to beg for it, but the uncertainty in the younger boy’s
eyes stopped him.
“You… you don’t have to…” Dean finally managed, unable to say yes or no.
===============================================================================
He knew how much it took for Dean to let him off the hook. How much he needed
for his mouth to be wrapped around his painfully throbbing dick, now that he’d
put the image in his mind. Still a hero ... always trying to play the hero,
even against something as powerful as lust.
Sam dropped down and sucked Dean’s lower lip into his mouth, playing with it
with his tongue, then pulling off. “I want to try.” Shy smile in place, he
started moving down Dean’s body, sucking hard on one flat male nipple, raking
his sides with his fingers as he moved lower.
It was tight on the couch, but he made it work, sitting on his knees between
Dean’s legs. He started to fondle Dean’s cock, measuring its length, feeling
it’s weight and girth. “I dreamed that you wanted to fuck my mouth, Dean. I
dreamed we were watching t.v. and I had my head in your lap and every time I
moved... you wanted... did that ever happen?”
Leaving the question to hang between them, Sam licked Dean’s tip, curling his
tongue around the bead of precum, tasting it... the smiling, and taking Dean’s
blunt crown in his mouth and sucking lightly.
===============================================================================
Oh god, he was going to go into cardiac arrest any second, Dean was certain of
it.
In a million years he never would have expected Sam’s response. He hadn’t
expected his brother to kiss him breathless, sucking on his lips in a way that
made Dean whimper pathetically against the younger boy’s mouth. He certainly
hadn’t been expecting Sam to reply that he wanted to try, making Dean’s dick
throb and leak even more against the younger boy’s shorts. Fuck, he could feel
how soaked Sam already was…
Then Sam was kissing his way down his chest once more, licking and playing with
his nipples and Dean’s hands shook as they came to rest on his brother’s
shoulders. He ran his hands through the younger boy’s hair, down his neck and
over his shoulders in back in an almost petting, soothing, motion though Sam
hardly needed any calming. He wasn’t the one who was shaking and feeling like
he was going to come apart at the seams any minute.
“Sammy… oh god…” Dean panted feeling his brother’s fingers wrap around him,
playing with his dick, stroking him slowly like he was trying to memorize the
feel of him. Then Sam’s whispered question made him close his eyes and moan in
shame, because it was true. It was probably the first time he realized just how
sick and fucked up he was. Back when Dean still allowed his little brother to
“cuddle” with him, before he started pushing Sam away and calling him a girl
for trying to get close to him.
They’d been home alone, Dad off on a hunting trip of course, and it was summer
so they didn’t have to worry about school. They were staying up late watching
TV, eating popcorn, candy and he’d even let Sam take a few drinks off his
beers. Which was probably the reason why Sam had ended up dozing off in his lap
halfway through the movie they’d been watching. Sam hadn’t been resting still
though, and every time he’d moved Dean’s dick had gotten just a little bit
harder. He was at full mast before his upstairs brain even caught up with what
was happening, how he was reacting, and…
“Yes…” Dean couldn’t help but admit. His voice small and trembling a little,
his eyes begging for forgiveness as he looked down at his brother now. Even as
Sam’s tongue tasted him, making Dean gasp in both surprise and pleasure. The
moan pulled out of him when his brother wrapped his lips around the head of his
dick and sucked almost pained, his fingers tangling in the younger boy’s hair,
pulling Sam closer, begging for more before he could stop himself. Not that he
wanted to stop. He couldn’t.
===============================================================================
The mixture of guilt and acute need emanating in waves from Dean was
exhilarating. Wanting... desiring more, he pushed his mouth down, taking more
of Dean, but not all of him. The tentative touches, the trembling fingers in
his hair and on his shoulder, the strangled moans, so sweet... so perfect...
Sam played with Dean's cock a little longer, feeling the changes in Dean as the
elder Winchester grew more desperate and just a little bolder with his pleas,
and with the pressure he applied on him, dragging him closer. He knew Dean was
thinking about that one night when Sam had driven him crazy in his innocent
ways, knew Dean had been so hard he'd had to jack off not once, but three times
that night... each time coming to the mental vision of Sam moving his mouth
over his cock, after teasing him while they watched the movie. Only when
visions of past lust and his current lust brought him close to tears, did Sam
relent and open his mouth wider.
Sam stopped sucking as he adjusted to Dean's thick length bottoming out at his
throat. A few heartbeats and groans later, he started to move his mouth up and
down Dean's shaft, sucking, licking, moving faster. His hand was closed around
Dean's base, his wrist moving in half circles while his thumb casually...
almost accidentally put pressure on his balls. He started to make some sounds
of his own, breathing harder, mmm'ing around Dean's dick, his body readjusting
so he was moving his hips and rubbing his own cock slightly against Dean's leg.
He felt Dean's body tense... like he was seizing up. Felt the skin around his
balls pull tight... heard the change in his voice. Good... come... come hard
big brother... come hard... like that night you jacked off so many times.
===============================================================================
He was lost. Completely and totally lost. He couldn’t think beyond the pleasure
burning through his veins like liquid fire. Incinerating all his good
intentions, all his doubts, and leaving only pure need. Sam’s slick wet tongue
stroking his shaft, Sam’s hot mouth tight around his throbbing length, taking
him in, it was so dirty and so perfect. Sam’s obvious inexperience only making
him even harder, hotter, knowing he was the first. He couldn’t have looked away
from the sight of his little brother’s innocent mouth going down on his cock
unless his eyes were burned out of their sockets. He couldn’t have stopped
himself from crying out, his hips bucking up as he cried out loudly when his
little brother took him all the way in.
“Sam! Oh god… Sammy… yes, please… oh fuck…” Dean moaned helplessly, guiding Sam
up and down his dick, his fingers still tightly in his little brother’s hair,
though his other hand gently pet the younger boy. Running along the back of his
neck and shoulders, not sure if he was trying to calm Sam or himself. He thrust
between those perfect sweet lips, moaning even louder at Sam’s touches around
the base of his cock, the soft strokes to his balls. Sam’s soft moans around
him driving his need even higher if it was possible. Oh god he was so fucked,
he was so damned fucked…
“Sammy!” He shouted, the feeling of his brother’s own hard cock rubbing against
his bare leg the final push to send him completely over the edge. His entire
body tensing as though he’d been hit by an electric shock as he came so hard he
saw stars. His hips bucking with pulse of his cock, his hot seed spilling from
his dick into his little brother’s mouth, and Dean knew he was going to hell
for this for sure but he didn’t give a damn.
===============================================================================
Sam's hands roamed over Dean's bare belly as he sucked him dry, swallowing
everything he gave him and knowing Dean was watching his every movement,
fascinated. He absorbed wave after wave of intense emotions and pleasure,
skittering to the edge just like Dean. His human form ached and throbbed, his
need as real as Dean's had been. It wouldn't end here, couldn't.
He crawled up Dean's body, legs slightly spread, his head jerking back as he
positioned his cock over Dean's hip bone and groaned. Needing this, needing it
for real, he started to hump Dean's hip, hard and fast, eyes screwed tightly
closed as he marched single-mindedly towards release. "Dean... oh God... feels
so good... burn... oh God, Dean, help me... help..." he pleaded, fucking harer,
moving erratically, like he didn't know exactly what he needed, desperate,
needy... dying for his brother's touch.
Sounds started breaking from him. He didn't hide them... felt them already
start to affect Dean. He knew this scene would play over and over in Dean's
mind... would have the young man in knots for days to come, would have him
beating off just for his peace of mind... to prevent himself from going crazy
due to the needs of his body.
"Dean!" he cried out, back arching, dick dragging one last time over his
brother's hip, before he collapsed over him. He felt Dean's hand cove over his
back, holding him tight. Lifting his face, he kissed Dean, then moved his mouth
over Dean's ear. "I love you. If you love me, really love me back, you won't
let me go. You won't let me leave... won't make me cry again."
He hoped each of his words would give Dean fresh wounds, new guilt, new fears,
new reasons to manage emotions. "I'm at the bus stop. I'm afraid of being
alone, or never seeing you. But you told me to leave... I'm doing what you
asked me, what you wanted. Not much time left. Bus comes in fifteen... take me
back with you."
He slid off Dean, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Bring me back, Dean. The days
will be his and yours, and the nights... yours and mine." He gave a sexy but
tremulous smile, "In your dreams... I'll be there, if you save him from
himself."
===============================================================================
Dean mewled with each suck Sam gave to his cock, his mind and body on complete
overload with pleasure. He simply couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching Sam,
his baby brother, licking up his release, savoring it like it was the most
delicious treat in the world… He could get hard and come again just from that
knowledge alone. Oh god, he was such a fucking pervert, but he couldn’t bring
himself to care. Not now. Not after feeling this. What he’d dreamed of and
denied wanting for so long…
When those perfect soft lips finally released him Dean couldn’t help but
whimper in protest even though he was so sensitive by that point the pleasure
was approaching the pain threshold. But then Sam was climbing up his body,
rubbing his dick against him, moaning and crying out his name, pleading with
him and Dean felt hot all over. Like he was on the brink of coming again just
watching Sam, just feeling him.
His hands went to the younger boy’s slender hips, guiding Sam though his
brother needed no guidance. His moans echoing his brother’s. So beautiful. So
hot. So perfect. Sam. His brother, wanting him, needing him, just as much as
Dean needed Sam. It was wrong and impossible and so damned perfect Dean felt
close to tears.
Then Sammy was screaming his name as his little brother came against him and
Dean felt as though all the air had been knocked out of him. He was still
gasping for breath when the younger boy collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his
arms tightly around his trembling brother, petting him slowly, lovingly, giving
the comfort he had denied the younger boy for so long for fear of what Sam
would see inside of him. Then Sam’s words made the air freeze in his lungs.
Of course he loved Sam, he’d never stopped loving his brother, never, he’d
thought Sam hated him… but Sam had come back… no… Sam was gone… but his brother
was here in his arms now… wasn’t he? Sam… at the bus stop… alone… No, this
wasn’t real. It wasn’t… just a fucked up fantasy, just a dream… of course it
was, how could he have believed anything different? But he had, for those few
moments, and now heartbroken didn’t even begin to cover what Dean was feeling
inside. It felt like his insides were being shredded. Even worse as he looked
up into his brother’s tear filled eyes.
“Don’t go, please…” Dean begged, but the words were barely out of his mouth,
between one blink and the next Sam was gone. He’d never been here. He’d been
dreaming but… it felt so real… the pills, the liquor, the concussion, Dean
didn’t know which had caused it but it had felt so fucking real. Sam’s lips
around his cock, Sam’s warm flesh beneath his hands, hell, even his lips still
felt bruised from the younger boy’s kisses.
Dean slowly pushed himself up from the couch, almost falling off of it when his
head started spinning, his vision swimming in and out of focus. Fuck… he felt
like he’d been hit over the head by a two by four. But Sam’s words… from the
dream… echoed in his head and he forced himself onto his feet even though he
had to catch the wall to keep from falling as he stumbled.
What the fuck was wrong with him? How could he have let Sam go? Even if Sam
did… hate him… he couldn’t let Sam go. He wouldn’t. He’d make it better. He’d
make it right. Somehow he’d make it right for Sam or he’d die trying.
Dean managed to yank on some jeans and a t-shirt without killing himself, not
even bothering with shoes he ignored how fucking unsteady he felt and ran out
of the house and down the road as fast as he could. The bus stop. It wasn’t too
far. What if Sam wasn’t there? It was only a fucking dream… he had to be there,
please god, let him be there.
He could barely see it was so fucking dark, and he barely realized it was
raining until he’d already been soaked through to the skin. But when he finally
got close enough to the bus stop to see the hunched figure curled up on the
bench his heart both leapt with joy and felt like it was being ripped in two
with sorrow.
“Sammy!”
Dean didn’t have any words prepared, he had no idea what to say, he didn’t even
know if Sam would have listened so he didn’t even bother with words. Between
one second and the next he’d pulled Sam up into his arms, holding the younger
boy as tightly to him as he possibly could. It took him a few moments to
realize he actually was speaking. A ramble of words that he couldn’t seem to
stop.
“I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m sorry Sam. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave. I love
you, I love you so fucking much…”
===============================================================================
Eventually, even in the downpour, Sam had fallen into an exhausted sleep. His
dreams had been disjointed and confused. One minute his brother was yelling at
him to get the hell away, the next they were having dinner and Dean was passing
him his favorite foods, giving his share over. The it was screaming and
shouting again... his dad... his Dean... and he didn’t know where to run, where
to hide. Once he’d have hidden behind Dean, now he was running from him. It was
wrong, all wrong. When... when had his brother let go of him, when had he cut
him loose? When did he stop needing him? When did he start resenting him?
He was crying again, this time in his sleep, until he felt strong arms pull him
up and envelope him in a tight embrace. Another dream... it had to be, because
Dean never hugged him anymore... he barely touched him. Only girls hugged...
that’s what he said.
Yet it smelled so much like Dean. Felt so much like him. It was too real. Sam
opened his eyes just as Dean said all the things that Dean would <I>never</I>,
not in a hundred years tell him. His throat welled up, aching, as he pulled
sightly back, wondering for an instance if this was some shape-shifter having
its fun.
No, it was Dean. It was his brother. Sam hugged him back, tight, not caring
that tears were coursing down his cheeks right along with the rain. “I don’t
want to leave you Dean. But I don’t want to hold you back, either.” He
swallowed, echoed the words that seemed to be coming unusually easily from
Dean. “I love you too. You know that.” He put his face down on his brother’s
shoulder, rocking slightly, and mumbling a home truth near his ear... thought
he was afraid to look in Dean’s eyes. “Sometimes... sometimes you look at me
like you hate me. Like I make your skin crawl, and that scares me.” That was
it, that was the bottom line. He didn’t care that Dean had popped him. They
fought often enough. And maybe it had been out of line, and a first... but Sam
could deal with it. It was the silent looks of revulsion, and the admission
that he felt like Sam was a weight on his shoulders that got to Sam, and
nothing else.
===============================================================================
When Sam finally spoke Dean honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or sob at the
whole fucked up situation. Hearing Sam admit that he didn’t want to leave him
filled him with joy while at the same time his brother admitting he didn’t want
to “hold him back” made him want to cry. Where the fuck had Sam ever got the
idea that he was “holding him back?” Hearing Sam say he loved him had his eyes
burning with tears that were thankfully immediately washed away by the rain
pouring around them, because no he hadn’t known that. Not after their last
exchange, he hadn’t. It was why he’d let Sam go in the first place…
If possible his heart shattered into even smaller pieces, falling somewhere
down to the center of the earth when Sam talked about… the way he looked at
Sam. How the hell could Sam have picked up on the way Dean tried not to look at
Sam, and had never noticed how Dean sometimes couldn’t look away from him?
For a split terrifying second he almost told Sam the truth, why Dean didn’t
look at him anymore, why Dean tried not to touch him anymore, not even for an
innocent hug before now. But then Dean “remembered” that what had… happened…
back at the house had only been a dream. Just another one of his fucked up
fantasies. Sam hadn’t really had his mouth around his dick less than an hour
ago. His little brother would probably be horrified to find out just half the
things that Dean wanted to do to him, not to mention disgusted, and then his
brother really would hate him.
“Sammy, it’s not you. I swear, I never meant for you to think that. You don’t
hold me back. I’m here because I want to be. I want to be with you and dad. I
don’t want anything else, I never have. I thought…” Dean gave a bitter laugh.
“I thought you hated me… you hate everything else about our life and when you
didn’t deny it…”
Dean took a shuddering breath and ran his fingers gently through his little
brother’s soft wet hair, practically cradling the younger boy against him.
“Come home with me. I’ll make it better, I swear. Somehow I’ll make it better.”
===============================================================================

You don't hold me back. I'm here because I want to be. I want to be with you...
The words were reassuring and familiar. They matched his knowledge, his vision
of his brother, before a chasm had opened between them and slowly widened.
Once, he hadn't doubted. If anything, he'd thought Dean loved him too much. It
had worried him... the thought of how it might affect Dean once he told him
about his college plans.
He hugged Dean tighter, like he used to whenever he needed comfort. Dean
thought he hated him? Hated? Since when? Why? Okay, they'd fought... and he
wasn't one to hold back his words, but sometimes that was all he had to fight
with. Sometimes he hurt so bad inside, felt so oppressed by their life, he had
to lash out. Had he lashed out too much at Dean? Blamed him for things his
brother couldn't change?
His shoulder shook as he started to sob. "I don't hate you Dean, I could never
hate you, no matter what. There is nothing you could do to make me hate you."
He nodded, still burying his face in Dean's neck, rubbing his cheek against the
rough wet material of his jacket. "I just... I get angry, and I can't help it.
It's not your fault. You make things better, not worse." That was the truth
too, plain and simple.
He started to relax as Dean ran his fingers through his hair and promised to
make things better if he came home. "I'll make it better to, Dean. I'll be
better, help you," he promised, reluctantly pulling away from his brother. He'd
missed this... missed touching Dean, hugging him. It had felt weird... like a
bucket of ice water being thrown in his face, when Dean had started to push him
away and tell him not to be a girl every time he tried to hug. Yeah Sam was
more in touch with his feelings, and he liked to touch, but the way Dean had
started to shove him away had felt strange. Maybe Sam had imagined it. Or maybe
Dean was trying to man him up in his own way. He should have known.
Getting up, Sam waited for Dean to do the same. His eyes widened as Dean
appeared to be shaky and unstable. Christ, he'd forgotten how unwell and weak
his brother was since the accident. Immediately putting his shoulder under his
brother's arm, he helped him walk. "You know you shouldn't even be out here in
the rain."
He stole a glance at his brother, and smiled. "Guess this is what you get for
having a pain in the ass younger brother. You sure you want this?" As they half
stumbled and headed for home, he teased. "You could trade me in for a nice
sister... you know, she might not argue as much. Or how about a pet? Just don't
call it Sammy, animals hate that as much as kids over thirteen."
===============================================================================
This is what Dean needed, more than anything else in the world. Sam needing
him, trusting him, loving him, as a brother. He couldn’t believe he’d almost
lost it. Almost lost Sam. All because of a stupid argument. All because of he’d
gotten so caught up in trying to deny and hide his sick desires, wanting what
he could never have, he’d forgotten what he did have. He’d pushed Sam away to
the point that his brother doubted his love and he’d almost run away forever…
Never again. Yes, Dean it would be hard for him, it had been hard since he
realized his feelings for his brother and it certainly wouldn’t be any easier
having Sam so close, wanting him in ways he shouldn’t, but Dean swore he’d
never let it drive a wedge between them again. He’d never let Sam doubt how
much the younger boy meant to him even as he hid from him the full extent of
his love for his brother. Because despite the younger boy’s reassurances that
Dean could never do anything that would make Sam hate him, Dean knew that
wasn’t true. If Sam knew what he wanted to do to him, what he wanted Sam to do
to him…
Dean’s mind flashed over to the vivid dream he’d had of Sam sucking on his cock
and he felt a little ill at the flash of arousal he felt. It was probably a
good thing then that Sam started to pull out of his arms, despite how reluctant
he was to let the younger boy go. He pushed himself up from the bench after his
brother, swaying a little unsteadily reminding him of the pills and the liquor
he consumed and the concussion he had and… yeah… he felt like shit.
Dean let Sam help support him, glad for the younger boy’s aid. Though he
normally would have insisted on walking by himself he didn’t for more than one
reason. Only the second reason being because he really needed it, even if he
didn’t he still wouldn’t have pushed Sam away, since constantly pushing Sam
away was one of the reasons they were at this point now.
In spite of everything though, Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly at his
brother’s words.
“Oh, I don’t know. We could always put pigtails in your hair and I could start
calling you Samantha.” Dean teased and he ran his fingers once more through his
brother’s hair making it stick up at odd angles, before he tightened his arm
around the younger boy, tucking him even closer against his side. He answered
his brother’s first question a little more seriously. “Yes, I’m sure.”
===============================================================================
Dean could not have any idea how good it felt to have him touch him again. So
good, so different from all the shoves and the dirty looks that Sam even
allowed him to do stupid things with his hair, and call him a girl. He’d let
him get away with anything, because right now, with his brother’s arm tight
around him, it finally felt like home again.
“Alright then,” he smiled, his even white teeth peeking out as he looked down
and started to walk faster. They both needed to get outta the rain.
As soon as they walked inside, he started to peel Dean’s sopping jacket off.
“You should probably get to bed... unless you wanna watch some t.v.?” He knew
it was close to morning, and that Dean looked like he was about to collapse. He
also knew the right thing would be for Dean to sleep, but it was hard to let
him go when things were just getting right between them.
He’d dropped his jacket on the kitchen floor and now pulled tee shirt off, the
reached for Dean’s. “Get your jeans off,” he said, peeling the sticky wet
material up and off Dean’s body.
===============================================================================
He and Sam were unsurprisingly completely drenched by the time they got back
home, but at least the rain was warm and there was little chance either of them
would get sick from being out in it. Sam’s sneakers and his own bare feet
tracked in mud and they both dripped puddles all over the kitchen floor that
Dean was in absolutely no mood to mop up. Not to mention the mess in the living
room with the tipped over coffee table and spilled food all over the floor he’d
have to clean up too, but for now he honestly didn’t care about that. Because
even as crappy as he felt physically he felt happier than he’d been in a long
time. Just because he had made Sam smile…
Dean was a little taken aback however when Sam started to strip off his jacket
and a flutter of nervousness started low in his belly in spite of himself. It
was completely innocent of course, and practical. Better they undress in the
kitchen since the floor was already wet and muddy rather than tracking it all
over the house and have to clean up more.
However Dean couldn’t deny the warm flush that washed over him when the younger
boy stripped off his own shirt and for a moment all Dean could do was stare at
his brother’s bare damp skin. Standing their frozen as Sam reached to help him
strip him of his own, telling him to take off his pants…
Dean shook himself, mentally going over in his brain every disgusting zombie
like smelly creature they’d ever hunted to distract himself from his little
brother’s body. His eyes darting down but he didn’t shove Sam away when the
younger boy helped him get his shirt off over his head. However there was no
way in hell he was going to let his brother help him get his pants off. It was
all he could do not to sprout wood already.
“TV would be great, dude, but I gotta clean up and go to bed. Gotta go to work
tomorrow.” Dean said with genuine regret. As much as being near Sam tied him up
in knots, after everything he really didn’t want to let Sam out of his sight
even for things as “necessary” as sleep.
===============================================================================
“Okay,” Sam said softly, letting Dean pull away. He unzipped and bent over to
get his jeans off, cursing as the thick material stuck to his legs and had to
be worked off. He would have offered to help Dean take his off, but his brother
started to head to the livingroom. "Dean, I'll clean up, just go... or you
won't be able to get up," he said, stepping out of his clothes. He looked up
and met Dean's gaze and pointedly looked toward their dad's room. A split
second later, his brother was heading that way. “See you in the morning... call
me if you need something,” Sam told him.
The instant Dean Winchester staggered into the room, he came to Dean in Sam’s
form. This time, he plastered himself to Dean’s bare back, arms around his
waist and undoing his jeans, cock ... a hard knot... pressing against Dean’s
ass as he walked him toward the bed.
“I missed you. Want to help you. Want to let you look at me as much as you
like,” he said, cupping Dean over his partially opened pants, “you’d like that,
wouldn’t you? To be able to touch me, to look at me, without having to hide it.
Without feeling ashamed? You’d like to tell me you like when I do this...” he
was breathing hard, rubbing against Dean’s ass, “... when I show you how hard
you make me.”
He pushed and they were the few steps to the bed. Squeezing Dean, he started to
whimper. “Dean, I don’t know what to do... make me feel good,” he pleaded,
trying to ride against him as he moved his hand inside Dean’s shorts and curled
his fingers around his shaft. “So hard... it hurt... please Dean... need...
need something... something...”
===============================================================================
It was a losing battle, much to his shame, and he quickly turned away, refusing
to watch his brother unzip and peal himself out of his wet jeans. Feeling sick
with himself and his lack of control, he started towards the living room to
clean up the mess in there. He’d mop up the kitchen floor afterwards. Hopefully
by the time he was done Sam would have already gone to bed. Temptation gone…
He stopped at Sam’s offer however, and big mistake, turned around to look at
the younger boy. The thin material of his brother’s boxers were clinging to his
Sam’s skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and Dean knew one
way or another he needed to get out of the room. Rather than argue and
embarrass himself or worse he simply headed for Dad’s room instead.
Dean barely got the door closed when he felt the arms wrapped around him all of
a sudden, felt the hands undoing his jeans, and felt the hard press of an
erection against his ass as he was pushed towards the bed. His own cock
immediately jumped to attention even as his brain began waving red flags.
This wasn’t fucking normal, even for him. He wasn’t asleep this time, god damn
it, this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t Sam plastered against his back, it wasn’t
his little brother’s voice whispering hot dirty things into his ear, promising
everything Dean had ever wanted. Either Dean was going completely insane,
either he was hallucinating from some kind of brain injury, or it was…
something else…
But even as he realized this it was like his brain was filling with a fog. He
couldn’t think beyond the lust wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. He
grew impossibly hard in the hand that stroked him, groaning in pleasure when
Sam reached into his shorts and squeezed his dick. Yes, he wanted it. Wanted
everything Sam offered and more. He needed it…
Dean grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled his hand away even though he whimpered in
almost pain from the loss, and turned around in the younger boy’s arms.
Grabbing his brother he yanked Sam up hard against him, his mouth coming down
on Sam’s almost bruising. Not caring about the consequences.
===============================================================================
The momentary indecision that warred within Dean was delicious, absolutely
delicious and almost had him coming. One more squeeze of Dean’s hardening cock,
and he knew he had him.
Sam didn’t pull away from the brutal kiss, instead winding his arms around
Dean’s waist and pressing himself even closer. “Mmm,” he kissed back, tangling
his tongue with his brother’s, letting him suck on his tongue... like it was
his dick. He knew those thoughts and even more obscene ones were tumbling
through Dean’s mind, and it didn’t take much to encourage them.
He felt Dean’s hand slide down his bare back and slip under his shorts, cupping
his ass. Mewling against Dean’s lips, he arched into him. He started to thrust
against Dean, half climbing him until Dean lifted him slightly and his cock was
aligned over Dean’s. He started to move mindlessly against him, bowing back to
get maximum friction.
Pleading sounds broke from the back of his throat. As he writhed and begged for
more, he could feel Dean’s lust rising... “Touch me, touch me Dean. I need
you,” he moaned, kissing him again, this time his tongue slipping into Dean’s
hot, wet mouth, engaging him, trapping him in a web of lust and desire so
strong, he was sure the world could come to an end right now, but his lover
would not notice. “Need something... need more, please dean... take your
clothes off... bed... anhhhh...”
===============================================================================
Dean cupped the back of his brother’s head with one hand, his fingers winding
themselves tightly in the younger boy’s hair, holding him place as he ravished
Sam’s mouth with near abandonment. Not that Sam was trying to pull away or stop
him. In fact, the younger boy kissed him back with just as much passion and he
was instantly so hard he hurt.
He groaned as he sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth slid his hands possessively
down the younger boy’s body to caress his buttocks. Slipping underneath his
brother’s underwear to caress and squeeze the luscious firm globes, bucking
against the younger boy when Sam rubbed against him. Finally lifting Sam up a
little so that his and his brother’s cocks slid together. The friction
delicious even through the layers of cloth they still wore.
He loved the sounds of pleasure and need spilling from his brother’s throat.
They drove him forward, needing more, trailing his lips and tongue down the
side of the younger boy’s neck, biting and sucking as Sam mewled in his arms,
begging for more.
Dean didn’t hesitate giving his brother exactly what he wanted. Turning them
both around lifted Sam up. Encouraging the younger boy to wrap his legs around
his waist for support and Dean carried him the final few steps over to the bed.
Not putting Sam down Dean simply climbed onto the bed with him, laying his
brother back and following him down. Thrusting and rubbing his cock between
Sam’s legs as he brought his mouth down hard onto his brother’s again.
He kissed Sam till the need for air forced him to pull back and he grasped
Sam’s underwear and practically ripped it down his legs impatiently. Then went
to work getting his own wet jeans and shorts off as quickly as he could.
===============================================================================
“God... Dean... good... don’t stop,” Sam begged, finally getting the friction
he wanted with Dean on top of him. So good, it was so damned good, the web of
lust binding them together as they mindlessly writhed against each other.
Dean’s mouth descended in a hungry kiss and Sam parted his lips for his
brother. He could do this forever... kiss and rub against him, slowly drive him
crazy out of his mind until Dean gave everything over... his body, his soul,
his life... all to satisfy the burning need It enflamed in the form of his
younger brother. Illicit love... there was nothing more tortured and more
delicious.
“No... don’t stop...” Sam whined when Dean broke the kiss. He gasped as his
shorts were pulled down, then watched through heavy lidded eyes as Dean tore
off his own jeans. Half sitting, bracing himself of one elbow, Sam shyly closed
his legs and covered his shaft with his hand, stroking it ever so slightly, his
eyes wide... focused on his brother’s thick cock. “So big he said breathlessly,
licking his lips, and swallowing.
===============================================================================
His brother’s sudden display of shyness, the way the younger boy closed his
legs and covered himself made Dean still. Lust still burned through his veins
like fire, especially the way Sam was looking at his cock with a mixture of
nervousness and wonder. Clearly remembering the feel of his brother’s lips
wrapped around his aching flesh…
Dean wanted nothing more than to tear Sam’s hand away, to push open his legs to
look at, touch, kiss, and lick every intimate part of his brother’s body. To
claim every inch of that fresh virginal body as his own, but he refused to do
anything that might hurt or scare the younger boy. If Sam told him to stop, he
would, without hesitation, no matter how it might pain him. He would not do
anything that his brother did not want him to.
For a moment, all he could do was watch the slow movements of those long
fingers covering his brother’s dick, lightly caressing its hard length. His
mouth practically watering with the thought of replacing those fingers with his
tongue, before he forced his eyes back up to meet Sam’s.
He crawled up the length of the bed and laid down beside his brother, propped
up on his elbow on his side, not touching Sam except for the hand on the
younger boy’s thigh that he slowly slid up from his knee to his brother’s
waist. His thumb caressing over his hip bone before moving back down, shifting
to Sam’s inner thigh before moving back up slowly. His fingers curling up just
behind the younger boy’s balls before moving back down.
“You’re so beautiful, let me look at you, Sammy, please…” Dean whispered,
licking his lips. Gently coaxing his brother’s legs apart again. “Do you want
me to touch you? Kiss you? Lick you? Tell me what you want…”
===============================================================================
Sam squirmed, let Dean see how his caresses were affecting him. His breaths
were shallow and audible. His gaze, locked on Dean’s eyes as he inched his
thighs apart for his brother. “I’m not beautiful.” He answered, his color
rising.
His hand slowly slipped off his shaft, but now he didn’t know where to place it
and looked a bit unsure. He wetted his lips, then stretched his hand out to
touch Dean’s cock, eyes raising up to see if he had permission. Petting it
gently, he rolled closer to his brother and brought his open mouth down over
his.
His hand and tongue didn’t move quite in unison because he was too
inexperienced to be able to concentrate on both. He tangled his tongue with
Dean’s, moaning softly, then pulling back. “Touch me Dean. With your mouth,” he
nodded, kissing him quickly again, then holding his breath.
===============================================================================
Dean bit back a groan as he watched how his little brother shifted and squirmed
just from his lightest touch. He longed to just grab the boy and pull that
young beautiful body tight against him so he could feel Sam moving and shifting
and rubbing against every inch of him but the last thing he wanted to do was
scare his brother, and so he forced himself to go slow. Even though he couldn’t
stop himself from moaning and the hungry look that entered his eyes when Sam
did as he asked, sliding his legs apart obediently and removing his hand from
his beautiful cock.
“Of course you are, I wouldn’t lie about that.” The elder boy replied, his
whole body hyper aware of the heat being generated from Sam, his fingers
practically burning where they touched forbidden flesh. Sliding up the younger
boy’s thigh once more and not stopping there this time. Cupping his little
brother’s heavy sack and giving it a gentle squeeze, ghosting his fingers up
the length of the younger boy’s cock from root to tip.
He nodded when Sam reached out to touch him, giving his brother permission when
the younger boy looked at him and moaning again when Sam touched him in return.
When his brother moved closer, kissing him again, Dean responded immediately.
Wrapping his arm around the younger boy’s back and tugging him even closer,
sweeping his palm up from Sam’s waist to his shoulders, and then down again to
his ass. Petting and squeezing his brother’s soft downy cheeks as Sam’s tongue
played in his mouth and his fingers played with his cock. So fucking sweet…
His brother’s request made him groan and he nodded as the younger boy kissed
him again. Dean took more control of the kiss this time, letting his tongue
sweep into the warm cavern of Sam’s mouth as he clutched Sam closer and rolled
them both over so that he was on top of the younger boy. Sliding a leg between
his little brother’s thighs he rubbed his hard erection against Sam’s hip as he
continued their kiss till he simply had to come up for air. Then he proceeded
to rain soft tender kisses all over the younger boy’s face, his warm breath
panting over Sam’s skin as he tasted his way down his brother’s jaw to his
neck.
“Taste so good…” Dean whispered as he nuzzled the younger boy there, he
couldn’t get over how soft and smooth his brother’s skin still was, while he
knew his own cheeks and chin had a day’s worth of stubble. So damned young… but
even his guilt wasn’t enough to stop him anymore as he sucked and bit and
licked at the little hollow at the base of his brother’s throat. Sliding down
Sam’s body, sweeping his hands down the younger boy’s chest and sides and his
mouth following their path. His tongue flicking out to swirl around one of the
younger boy’s peaked nipples, sucking and biting lightly on it while his
fingers toyed and pinched the other. Pressing himself close to his brother,
savoring every squirm and mewl of pleasure he drew out of Sam.
===============================================================================

Desire. Lust. Want.

Emotions... needs ran so deep... had been denied so long, once they broke free,
there was no stopping them. They were a force of nature, crashing around them
like powerful waves, building up and seeking, searching for outlets,
overrunning the banks.
As sweet as the kiss had been, the instant Dean took control of it, Sam’s
pleasure intensified. Groaning, he obediently rolled on his back, his head
tipping back as Dean’s weight sank into him. His brother’s knee moved between
his legs and automatically, Sam clenched his thighs around it and started to
move, rubbing himself against it as surely as his brother was fucking into his
hip.
His breaths came faster, hotter. “Dean... oh my God Dean...” he thrashed from
side to side as Dean’s mouth moved over him, feathering kisses, leaving burning
hot trails over his skin, making him so sensitive that every touch sent fire
through his veins.
Small sounds tore from his throat as Dean’s mouth did things to him, moving
down his body. The fiery sensation that ran through him at the first touch of
Dean’s tongue against his nipple had Sam almost jackknife up. If it weren’t for
the weight of his brother, he would have. He moved his own hand to his other
nipple, touching himself... discovering his body.
Dean was touching him, licking and kissing him with such excruciating slowness
that Sam started to buck. “More... Dean please, faster... more,” he pleaded.
===============================================================================
Dean moaned as his brother’s fingers took over where his hand been playing with
his nipple. Using his now free hand, he slid his palm down to Sam’s stomach.
Pressing down, holding the younger boy in place while his tongue continued to
tickle the tight pink nub beneath it. Sam’s desperate pleas urging him on,
giving more, everything his brother asked for. Sucking harder, taking the
sensitive peak between his teeth and pulling gently. His brother’s hard cock
leaving damp scorching trails over his thigh and he knew he wasn’t going to
stop until he tasted the younger boy everywhere. Until he felt his brother’s
pulse beating strongly against his tongue, his lips wrapped around the base of
the younger boy’s cock, while Sam shot his load down the back of his throat.
Giving Sam’s nipples one last kiss, Dean continued down his brother’s body.
Kissing and sucking and nipping at the sweat dampened skin as he went. His
tongue dipping into the younger boy’s belly button while his fingers slid
through the soft trail of hair leading from Sam’s navel to his groin. Finally
he pulled back, just enough so he could watch as his fingers curled around his
brother’s hot length. He gave the surprisingly long thick cock a slow stroke
from base to tip, and groaned when he saw a perfect pearly bead of precome form
at the slit.
Dean’s eyes flicked up to his brother’s, his gaze locking with the younger
boy’s, as he dipped his head to lap away that drop with his tongue. The taste
of his brother’s pleasure exploding over his tongue the sweetest thing he’d
ever tasted, and Dean groaned again as he swirled his tongue all around the
swollen red head. He spent several long minutes playing with the sensitive
underside, dipping into the slit over and over while his fingers continued to
slide up and down the length of his brother’s shaft. His other hand digging
into the younger boy’s hip to keep Sam from squirming or bucking up into his
mouth until he was ready.
Finally Dean parted his lips and swallowed down his brother’s cock completely
in one smooth motion. Groaning around the head of the younger boy’s dick when
he felt it nudge at the back of his throat. Dean let go of his brother’s hip,
letting the younger boy fuck up into his mouth as he bobbed his head. Sucking
hard enough for his cheeks to hollow as he took Sam completely into his mouth
over and over, never looking away from Sam’s eyes as he worked to give his
brother the best blow job he would ever have in his whole life.
===============================================================================
Pleasure came at him from a thousand angles. Dean’s mouth, his tongue, leaving
hot wet trails over his body, teasing mercilessly, then making it better.
Dean’s hands, sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding, always groping, always
touching, like he was making sure Sam was still there, with him, like he
couldn’t bear any separation.
Sam writhed and licked his lips. Need now eclipsed Dean’s guilt, but it was
delicious just the same. Dean might be older, but he was still a teenager,
still at the mercy of his hormones... and his hormones had been driving him up
the wall for a long time when it came to his brother. Now it offered Dean his
brother on a silver platter, and the emotions storming inside Dean were
wreaking havoc with the boy, whether he knew it or not.
“Mmmn.... Dean,” he whispered, moving his legs uncontrollably as the elder
Winchester grasped his cock and then looked at him. He licked his lips, his
tongue darting out, soaking up his brother’s rapt attention and doing it again.
Right now... Right now Dean knew he was going to hell, but he didn’t care...
couldn’t.
As Dean’s tongue wiped his dick free of precum, and then started to torture
him... dipping repeatedly into the slit at the head of his cock, Sam whimpered.
Desire... need was as deeply etched on his face as it was on his brother’s. He
didn’t say anything, but the way he tried to buck his hips... that told Dean he
was desperate... desperate for more, and that it was only his brother’s hold on
his hips that were preventing him from fucking Dean’s mouth.
Bracing with his elbows so he could watch, Sam’s eyes widened when Dean took
him, all of him into his mouth. At the first suck, Sam threw his head back,
eyes closed, a groan tearing from the back of his throat. His fists curled
around the bedsheets, he held on like they were his anchors, and then he
started to thrust.
Little sounds broke from his throat as Dean moved up and down his shaft. When
he opened his eyes, Sam found himself practically fucking the wet heat of
Dean’s mouth, and his brother was letting him... no longer holding him down. He
thrashed, his eyes glazing but locked to Dean’s, biting his lips... trying
desperately but unsuccessfully to hold back his cries.
His balls started to draw up tight against his body. “Dean move.” He took a
couple breaths, legs shifting. “Dean, I’m gonna.... Dean....” he tried to warn
his brother as his body stiffened like a board and he started to come... hard.
===============================================================================
Sam’s whimpers and moans of pleasure burned his ears. The feel of Sam’s hot
dripping cock against his tongue scorched his mouth, his tongue, his throat.
Hellfire… The road to hell definitely wasn’t paved with good intentions. It was
paved with getting off on the feeling of your baby brother writing and moaning
and thrusting his cock down your throat. Dean didn’t care one damned bit.
Dean watched. Every moan that spilled from his brother’s lips that he cause, he
savored. Every time Sam lifted his hips, shoving himself deeper into his mouth,
into his throat Dean moaned around him. The sweat glistening on his brother’s
flesh, the lust in Sam’s eyes, he savored it all. The most forbidden fruit, and
he savored every bit of it greedily.
As Sam’s whimpers changed in pitch, as the younger boy began to thrash harder
beneath him, as he felt his little brother’s balls tighten, Dean didn’t know if
he could have stopped if their father had suddenly appeared at the door
threatening to kill him for molesting his younger brother. When Sam began to
“warn” him of what Dean already knew was imminent, Dean only sucked harder,
taking the younger boy as deeply as he could into his throat without choking
around him.
The first shot of the younger boy’s semen down his throat made Dean feel light
headed, and he barely remembered to swallow. Not wanting to lose a single drop,
but he simply hadn’t anticipated Sam to come so much or so hard, and he was
forced to pull off just to take a breath. Causing the younger boy to shoot over
his face and lips as well as in his mouth.
Rather than feeling gross or disgusted though, Dean merely moaned, licking his
lips and the head of his brother’s cock as though he were savoring the most
delicious treat in the world.
===============================================================================
An urgent and desperate cry broke out of Sam as he came, half sitting up, hands
digging into the mattress, fingers clenched around mounds of now wrinkled
sheets. His hair was plastered to his forehead, a sheen of sweat covering his
entire body. His eyes widened as his cock slipped out of Dean's mouth and
another rope of cum shot out of him.
"Dean!" Fear and embarrassment crossed his features as he drew his knees half
way back and sat up. Reaching out, he started to wipe Dean's face, his hands
shaking, and his voice hesitant and fearful. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I tried
to tell…"
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He was making more of a mess than helping, but
in his panic, he couldn't even think of using the sheets or finding something.
"Don't be mad… I…" Then the hot tears started falling, streaming down his
cheeks and rolling onto his chest. "So sorry…"
===============================================================================
The sudden change in his brother’s demeanor, going from nothing but pleasure
and need written on the younger boy’s face to shame and even fear stunned Dean
so much at first he could only stare dumbfounded at Sam from his position
between the younger boy’s legs. He blinked up at his brother stupidly, even as
the tears welling up in Sam’s eyes made his heart twist painfully in his chest
while the younger boy frantically wiped at his face.
Don’t be mad? Why would he be…
It finally clicked and Dean didn’t know whether to laugh at his brother’s
mortification, his pain, his fear, or feel guilty at having been the cause even
if he hadn’t meant to. Dean gently grasped the hand that was doing little but
smearing the younger boy’s come across his face and lips as he pushed himself
up, shaking his head at the same time.
“No, Sammy. No I’m not mad. How could I be mad?” Dean tried to reassure, his
heart twisting all the more painfully at the tears now running down his
brother’s face.
Climbing up the length of his brother’s body he gathered the younger boy close
to his chest and held him tightly. Running his fingers soothingly down his
brother’s hair and back as he tried again.
“Sam, I’m NOT mad. It was amazing. I liked it. Every second. I’ve wanted to do
that for so long. Wanted to taste you for so long…” God, he sounded like such a
fucking pervert. But if it comforted the younger boy Dean would admit to all of
his perverse and hell worthy thoughts and longings he’d ever had for Sam. Dean
took Sam’s hand in his own again and brought the younger boy’s come slick
fingers back to his lips. Taking his brother’s index finger into his mouth and
sucking on it softly with a moan of pleasure.
===============================================================================
Sam clung to Dean, accepting the comfort his brother freely offered, and
forcing him to put to words his guilty desires… needs that had been building up
for sometime making him ripe pickings. He stopped sniffling, and wiggled his
finger inside Dean’s mouth, stroking his tongue. “Me too Dean. Sleep on top of
me,” he whispered, pulling his brother down over him just as the bedroom door
opened. "I like how you feel. So hard and..." It dissipated into thin air.
“Dean? Are you alright?” Sam asked, looking wide eyed at his brother who was
hunched over kinda funny. “You were… I thought I heard a noise.”
When his brother didn’t answer, he walked into the room and even only by the
moonlight streaming in, he noticed how sweaty Dean’s forehead had gotten. He
touched to confirm, then sat down on the side of the bed and started to push
Dean over onto his back. “You’re burning up. You gotta take more Tylenol and
water. I’m… I’m gonna sleep here tonight, okay? Dean?” His voice rose an octave
as a sense of slight panic started to rise inside him.
===============================================================================

Me too. He wondered exactly what Sam was referring to, but Dean couldn’t think
clearly enough to ask when the younger boy pulled him down on top of him.
Asking him to sleep with him, on top of him, just like this. Both of them
smelling like sex and skin slick with sweat and there was nothing Dean wanted
more right now…
But in the blink of an eye, Sam was gone…
Except Sam was there, behind him, standing in the doorway… and Dean’s heart
practically stuttered to a halt in his chest at his brother’s soft concerned
words. His real brother. His brother who would be horrified and disgusted if he
knew just what Dean had… fantasized… hallucinated… he wasn’t even sure… about
sucking Sam off…
Fuck, Dean swore he could still taste the younger boy’s seed in his mouth…
Dean quickly wiped at the sweat on his face, and he wasn’t sure where he found
the will to actually turn and look up at Sam. He knew his eyes must have been
wide with something akin to panic as the younger boy reached out to touch him
and suddenly Dean felt like he was going to be sick.
Burning up… he felt like he was burning up, being incinerated inside by guilt
and shame. And Sammy was completely oblivious, mistaking his flush of arousal
for sickness. The darkness and the sheets Dean gathered around his waist hiding
his painful erection. Thank god. Once Sam left at least he could take care of
the shameful proof of his sick desires…
Dean thought he was going to suffer heart failure when Sam suddenly offered to
sleep in here with him tonight. Probably to take care of him… There were so
many fucking reasons why Sam shouldn’t Dean couldn’t possibly count them all
right now. But after everything that had happened today, tonight… the thought
of pushing Sam away for any reason, even if it was for the younger boy’s own
good… what if it blew up in his face again like earlier?
Sam’s sudden, almost fearful, change in tone jarred Dean enough to finally
answer instead of simply staring at the younger boy like some kind of sicko.
“Yeah… ok, Sam.” He managed to croak out and almost wanted to kick himself.
Couldn’t he have come up with something, anything, to let his brother down
gently? To convince Sam that he was fine and didn’t need babysitting?
Apparently not. Apparently his entire brain was suffering from lack of blood
flow and it was making him even stupider than normal.
“You’re right, I should probably take some more meds, I’m not feeling all that
hot. Can you get me some?” Dean asked the younger boy. At least that would give
him time to put his fucking pants back on.
===============================================================================
The lost, confused look in Dean’s face, and his failure to immediately respond
had started to freak him out. Then Dean agreed, and admitted he wasn’t doing
well. Course that didn’t make Sam feel a lot better, but at least his brother
wasn’t ‘out of it’ like he’d first started to believe.
He nodded, “I’ll get them. You…” He touched Dean’s forehead one more time, and
got up. “Rest.”
Sam scurried out of the room, really not liking how Dean looked. In any normal
family, they’d be heading to the hospital about now. But no, Winchesters had to
take care of themselves unless they were on death’s bed. He knew there was no
way in hell he could convince Dean they needed a doctor. He just hoped like
hell that tomorrow, his brother would be better cause if he had to guess, he’d
say Dean was looking worse.
As he got the Tylenol and poured some water into a glass, it hit him. Dean was
doing better earlier, when he’d managed to get to the shower. Now… after having
come out in the rain to look for him in the middle of the night, he was worse.
Guilt eating at him, he almost crept into the room, eyes on his brother. When
he reached the bed, he sat next to him and passed the meds and water, and hung
his head. “You… you shouldn’t have gone out in the rain, not like this. I’m
sorry…. Sorry Dean, for all the trouble.”
Why was it when he didn’t have a hard knot of anger balled up in his stomach,
it was a knot of guilt? Why couldn’t things be like they’d been a year ago,
before he started to go through periods of extreme emotions? Sometimes he
blamed dad, and even Dean, but … it wasn’t just them. It was him. He wished he
knew how to let stuff go, how to get back to that happy place where he wasn’t
making his brother miserable or putting him in danger… like this?
Taking the empty glass back, he put it aside, then lay down on his side, facing
Dean. “Need anything?” he whispered, knowing there wasn’t a damned thing he
could do to help his brother.
===============================================================================
Dean couldn’t help breathing a small sigh of relief when the younger boy
finally left the room. Fuck. Even the gentle touch of Sam’s hand to his
forehead practically burned him. Cursing himself, Dean let the sheets around
his waist fall as he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He didn’t
have a lot of time until Sam came back.
Though the young man hadn’t expected the sudden wave of dizziness to smack him
in the face once he was sitting up. Now that the adrenaline fueled by lust had
faded he felt completely… drained… He could barely keep himself upright and not
simply fall out of bed onto his ass as he reached over the side of the bed for
his, thankfully, only slightly damp jeans.
Getting them on however and pulled up, not to mention buttoned up, was an even
greater challenge. Thankfully his erection had started to wilt by then. Shame
and disgust at himself was good for that. Had worked for a long time in fact,
until the strength of his desires had begun to outweigh his shame. What had
happened tonight though… twice… far outweighed any of his previous fantasies
he’d ever had about the younger boy.
So real he knew he should probably be worried he’d suffered brain damage in
that car accident… or worse… there had been something before… before he simply
couldn’t stop himself from touching and kissing the image of his brother. But
Dean had more important things to worry about right now. Playing sick… well…
not really playing… for his over concerned real brother who had absolutely no
idea what a disgusting pervert he really was.
With a heavy sigh Dean laid down in the bed again and covered himself up just
in time for Sam to come back with the pills and water he promised. The younger
man looking almost hesitant as he approached the bed and Dean’s heart began to
hammer a little in fear that maybe he’d given himself away after all, before
Sam began to apologize.
“Don’t, Sammy. No more apologies, ok? Besides I’ve got way more to be sorry for
today than you do...” Dean said softly. If Sam only knew… With a soft sigh he
tossed back the pills, since he really did feel like crap, and downed the whole
glass because he knew Sam would probably nag at him if he didn’t. Handing back
the empty glass to his brother, Dean offered the younger boy a small reassuring
smile. He shook his head slightly.
“Nah, I’m good. Feel better already.” He replied. Yeah, they both knew he was
full of shit, but if it would ease that worried guilty look on the younger
boy’s face that’s all that mattered. “Good night, Sammy.”
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon
Laying on his side, for a long time… long after Dean closed his eyes, Sam
watched him. He'd left a little light on in case he needed to move fast to get
something for Dean, and now, in the light, he started to notice even more how
tired and sick his brother looked. His skin was pale and yellowish, and there
were even dark shadows under his eyes. Weird how his injuries seemed to be
stable but the rest of him seemed to be getting worse.

Rain. You made him go out in the rain, when he could barely walk. He went
barefooted. No matter what Dean ordered, he couldn't help feeling bad about
that and responsible for Dean's state. Reaching out, he put his palm close to
Dean's nose… felt his breaths, and dropped his hand between them. He was too
still, and yeah… maybe his imagination was getting the best of him.
As he closed his own eyes eventually, he hoped he wouldn't thrash around too
much and disturb Dean. They hadn't slept in the same bed for a long time, but
the last times they had, he remembered Dean's grumbling complaints about him
hogging blankets and rolling over to his side. He'd do his best not to do that.
Sam bent his knees and felt his knee cap touch something humid. His eyes flew
open and he pulled the sheet down to find Dean had never taken off the wet
jeans. "Dean." His whisper seemed to fall on deaf ears and he sighed.
Whatever. He started to undo his brother's jeans. It might be his fault Dean
had gotten all wet, but it would not be his fault that Dean had then slept in
wet clothes. The fever had to be affecting his brain. The sound of the zipper
broke the silence in the room, and then Sam was trying to pull the clinging
material down Dean's hips.
===============================================================================
The next morning Dean would have probably been surprised just how fast he had
fallen asleep, practically as soon as he let his eyes drop closed. He would
have sworn he would have lain awake the rest of the night feeling uncomfortable
in his slightly damp jeans and lingering hard on. But either he really was
pretty sick, still weakened from his injuries in the accident, or just plain
mentally exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the last couple of days
(most likely all of the above) because he was literally out like a light within
minutes. Too tired to even dream… considering his last few “dreams” and the
situation that was probably a very good thing.
Normally he was very aware of Sam, to an obviously painful degree. Normally he
could go from a dead sleep to fully alert in less than a second if he needed
to, but the young man didn’t even stir when his brother whispered his name. He
didn’t feel the sheet slide off his body or the younger boy shift closer to
him.
Dean wasn’t so gone as to not notice the feel of his brother’s hands at the
waistband of his jeans, however he didn’t wake up either. A soft groan escaped
his throat as he rolled over onto his back in response to the insistent
tugging, a slight frown pinching his forehead in complaint. One part of his
body might be interested but the rest of him certainly was not. He was too
fucking tired… too tired, Sammy…
“No more…” Dean mumbled in his sleep and tried to roll away from the younger
boy as Sam started tugging the wet jeans down his hips.
===============================================================================
“Dean, don’t move,” Sam hissed in frustration. As if Dean weren’t heavy enough,
now he had to roll him back. Still his brother was motionless. Gritting his
teeth, he worked the pants down some more, eyes widening when he found his
brother had gone commando.
The wet material slipped from Sam’s fingers as he pulled away, trying not to
look. Not that he hadn’t seen Dean in the nude often, like when he’d talked to
him in the shower, but this was a bit… strange. He’d have to tease him about it
later.
Once again leaning over to tug the damned pants off, he felt heat steal over
his cheeks. He dragged his gaze away again, and tried to rush. Straddling
Dean’s calves, he pulled harder until the jeans slipped past his knees and it
got easier to get them off. “Just a little more. Almost there… almost,” he half
chanted under his breath.
===============================================================================
Dean didn't hear his brother's frustrated complaints. He simply rolled over
onto his stomach, hugging the pillow and kicking half heartedly in response to
the hands tugging at his pants. At least, he did until Sam sat on them to keep
them still and Dean grumbled in his sleep but didn't move any longer.
Finally the damp clingy material slipped off from around his thighs, knees, and
was finally tugged off his feet. If he appreciated the new freedom and comfort
he didn't express it. He simply slipped deeper into his dreams now that the
insistent annoying tugging was over and done with. He didn't even move except
to snore softly when a light sheet was draped over his nude body.
He slept so heavily he didn't feel his brother finally getting himself settled
into the bed next to him. He didn't hear it when the younger boy's soft
rhythmic breathing began to match his soft snores. He didn't even feel it when
his brother began to shift and roll around a little bit in the bed next to him,
maybe from a nightmare or just general restlessness from the heat.
The younger boy finally settling only once he was practically plastered up
against his back, a long arm thrown over him and a leg wound between his own.
Dean didn't think he had slept so good in a long time.
That was how Dean woke. His brain feeling like it was wrapped up in warm
cotton. His body wrapped up in heat. The sweat that had been generated between
their bodies hot and making them practically stick together when he tried to
move. Not that he wanted to move really. He was more comfortable than he would
have imagined with an electric blanket draped over him in the middle of summer.
He was just hard. Achingly so. His morning wood trapped beneath him, and all he
could think about was rubbing his dick against that lean muscled thigh between
his legs.
"Sammy..." Dean moaned softly.
===============================================================================
The call brought Sam out of his heavy sleep. “Dean?” He lifted up slightly, and
his chin resting on Dean’s shoulder. “You alright. Need another drink?” he
asked, eyes still closed.
He listened to Dean’s even breathing, and wondered if he too was half asleep.
Slowly, he started to realize he was practically on top of his brother. Like he
used to sleep when he was a kid. It brought back lots of memories. How Dean
used to sooth away his nightmares. Stroke his hair until he fell asleep again.
Or assure him that he had a bullet with the name of anyone or anything that
dared try to get to Sammy Winchester. God... he’d felt so safe, and so close to
Dean then.
He took a breath, wondered if they would ever get there again. Or was it
something you grew out of? It hurt to think so, and there had already been too
many tears between them.
He laughed softly in Dean’s ear, tickling it with his finger. “Hey Dean, I’m
all over your.” He laughed again, “aren’t you hot? You have to be sick if you
haven’t kicked me away yet, hmm?” He ticked him again. “Dean... just like
before, when we were kids.”
Yeah, his brother probably heard nothing or had no clue what he was babbling
about. He started to move and found that his leg had gotten trapped between
Dean’s. Laughing again, he started taking his leg back, a slight shock running
through him when he suddenly realized and remembered he’d stripped his brother
down to nothing.
===============================================================================
The fog in his brain didn’t dissipate even when the soft voice in his ear and
the tickle of warm breath across his cheek pushed him more towards being awake.
Was he awake? Or was he dreaming? He didn’t know the difference anymore. He was
still too much asleep to understand what his brother was whispering into his
ear, but a content smile curved his lips anyway. All he knew was that the warm
weight against his back felt good, despite how hot he already was. He felt
good, despite… not feeling good… As long as Sam was with him he didn’t care how
“not good” he felt.
So when he felt the younger boy’s heat begin to draw away, the leg tangled with
his own withdrawing, Dean couldn’t stop the small moan of complaint that
escaped his lips. Sammy… don’t leave… please don’t leave me. Love you… love you
so much…
Dean rolled onto his side and then his back, trying to follow the younger boy’s
withdrawing warmth. He managed to snake his arms around his brother’s slim
waist and tug him close again. Their bodies flush. Skin to skin. His hard cock
pressing insistently against the younger boy’s thigh.
His fingers trailed slowly up the length of the younger boy’s back, over his
shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to thread into the soft fall of hair.
His fingers pet through the soft silken mass lovingly before he cupped the back
of Sam’s head and tugged his brother closer. His lips seeking out and finding
Sam’s, warm and soft and just as sweet as he remembered.
===============================================================================

Sam had thought Dean was complaining, like he always did when something
threatened to wake him. He stilled, just so he could move away more carefully,
when Dean's arm suddenly wound around his waist and dragged him up hard against
his body. Sam's exclamation was swallowed the instant he realized there was
absolutely no room between himself and Dean, and that Dean's morning wood was
pricking his thigh.
A sense of fear and embarrassment swept through him, his cheeks burning. His
heart slammed into his chest and he knew he had to get out of this predicament
before his brother woke. "Ah..." He swallowed as his brother stroked his hair
and held him just a little tighter, moving his hand behind his head and
trapping him. Did he think...
And then their mouths were pressed together, and Sam was bombarded by feelings
of confusion. His brother was kissing him, his tongue was inside his mouth. He
should stop this, even if he had to wake Dean, he should. And then his tongue
was playing tag with Dean's, and he hadn't even realized he was doing that, or
how good it felt. His entire body was buzzing and thrumming, in a way he'd
never experienced. No, that wasn't true. This was a bit like how he felt when
he needed to go to the bathroom for privacy, and when he jerked off. Just the
idea of jerking off, coupled with the heat Dean's mouth was generating inside
him drew a deep groan from Sam.
Oh God...oh God, he was getting a stiffy. It wasn't just a morning stiffy, he
was getting hard because of the way Dean was kissing him, and the way Dean's
arousal felt against his bare leg. Oh God, Dean pressed against him, and the
pressure against his dick had Sam wanting to rub against Dean, needing to find
an outlet for the heat pooling in his groin.
Eyes widening at the thought of what he was about to do, he jerked out of
Dean's hold and rolled to the side of the bed, one hand covering where his
shorts tented. His breaths coming out much too fast, he stared at Dean's
innocent face. So that's how he got all the girls!
Swinging his legs off the bed, and fighting not to wig out over this, Sam
padded out of the room and went straight to the bathroom. He looked in the
mirror at his flushed face, his lower lip reddened from biting on it, and then
the real struggle began. He really shouldn't reach for the vaseline... really
shouldn't. It would be wrong, so wrong, because right now all he could think
about what how Dean felt, and how he made him feel. And God, if Dean ever found
out he jacked off to that, he'd kick his ass.
===============================================================================
Feeling Sam’s tongue playing against his own, feeling the younger boy’s
stiffening flesh against his thigh, made Dean moan again in pleasure and need.
His little brother was so damned sweet. So hesitant and shy even after
everything they had already done. Quite frankly, Dean found it endearing and it
made his protective instinct kick in to full gear even as it made him burn with
desire.
God, he could just imagine what it would be like to finally fuck the younger
boy. To open Sam up slowly with his fingers and tongue until his brother was
begging for more. To slip inside that tight hot virgin passage and make love to
Sam slowly.
He would go slow because he didn’t want to hurt Sam. Because he wanted his
brother to love it, love Dean fucking him, as much as Dean would. He wanted Sam
quivering and panting in his ear as he slowly filled him up over and over. He
wanted his brother screaming his name as he came, his already tight muscles
fluttering and clenching around him, making Dean spill his own seed inside…
Soon… when Sam was ready. He wouldn’t do anything to scare his brother. He’d go
slow. As slow as Sam needed to. He wouldn’t rush this. He wanted to savor it…
But then suddenly his brother’s warmth was pulling away from him, and Dean
whimpered at the loss. Sammy? Where was he going? Sam?
Dean struggled to wake, to see what was wrong, but by the time he opened his
eyes his brother was gone… was Sam even there? Of course not, it was just a
dream, just like all the others… Dean made a soft sound of despair in the back
of his throat as he rolled onto his stomach. Ignoring the hard ache of his cock
pressing into the mattress underneath him.
He was losing his fucking mind…
===============================================================================
Twenty minutes later, a cleaned up Sam, dressed in shorts and tee shirt pushed
the door to Dean’s bedroom open. He had a hard time making himself look at Dean
and felt his color rising the moment he tried. “I ... ah... I got breakfast
ready. And I called your boss and told her no way you’re coming in.”
He took a couple more steps into the room, dancing near the bed. “Seriously
time to get up.” Dean’s face didn’t look flushed anymore, but he was still
hella pale. “Dean?” Why was he afraid to touch him now? Dean was awake, he
wasn’t going to pull him into his arms and...
Oh God, what if he remembered? No, no no, Dean had been dreaming. Taking a deep
breath, Sam added, “but wait till I get out of the room. Dude... since when do
you go commando?” His voice cracked slightly as he thought about how Dean had
felt against him.
===============================================================================
Dean knew he must have dozed off again… if he was even awake in the first
place, he was never sure anymore… because Sam’s voice from the door woke him.
What? Breakfast? Dean honestly wasn’t sure if he was even hungry, but he
couldn’t remember when he last ate either.
Sam telling him that he’d called his boss and told her he wasn’t coming in,
that woke him up though and Dean pushed himself up with a muttered curse as he
looked at the clock. He was late. Or would have been late if Sam hadn’t already
told them he wasn’t coming in. But he had to go in, damn it. Maybe the job and
the pay was crap but they needed every extra dollar they could get right now.
“Why did you do that?” Dean demanded and started to get up from the bed before
Sam’s next words, about him going commando, made him freeze and look down, and
then wrap the sheets tightly around his waist. He had gone to bed last night in
his jeans for a reason. And Sam had… What if he had… no it had just been a
dream, just a dream…
“Since when do you undress me?” Dean asked, trying for annoyance but it was
fear that was making his heart beat so fast it felt like it might explode. It
had to be a dream. Sam wouldn’t be in here talking to him right now if… he’d
done anything…
Dean sighed heavily and dry scrubbed his face. Fuck, he was so damned tired. He
couldn’t deal with this right now, he had to get to work.
“Go eat breakfast, I need to get ready.”
===============================================================================
Sam’s eyes widened as Dean started to get up but he let out a breath of relief
as his brother just secured sheets around him. Not that he usually gave a rat’s
ass about seeing Dean naked, but today... this morning... it was different.
After the way he’d felt Dean’s arousal pressing into him as his brother kissed
him, it had to be.
Dean’s gruff questions about work startled him out of his reverie. “Cause you
don’t look so hot. I mean you were hot all night last night. You have a fever
that keeps coming back, Dean. You need rest, or let’s go to the hospital... get
you checked out.” He wished Dean would agree to that.
When he asked about his pants, Sam felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “Well you
were all wet. Had to be delirious to go to bed in wet jeans, so I... and you’re
freakin’ heavy, by the way,” he added.
“You... you’re gonna go to work?” He ignored that Dean told him to go eat.
“Dean, you don’t have the car. You’re gonna have to take the bus, sit out
there... and... you’re no in any shape for it.” He could see the stubborn tilt
of that Winchester jaw. “She would have told me if it was a problem. I can go
for you...”
===============================================================================
Dean made a face when the younger boy suggested that he go back to the hospital
to get “checked out”. Even though he had been almost wondering the same thing
given the dreams… he didn’t want to call them hallucinations, but he swore he’d
been awake… But he had already been to the hospital and they had checked out
his head, said it was fine, was just a concussion.
Rest. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe that was all he needed. He felt sore and
bruised, but mostly he was just tired. Maybe if he rested, just for one day
without any kind of stress, maybe he would feel better and he would stop having
the dreams.
When Sam suggested that he go to work in his place, saying quite bluntly that
Dean was in no shape for it, the older boy scowled. His first instinct, of
course, to argue with his brother, insist he was fine, but unfortunately Sam
was right and pushing himself was only going to make things worse. Dean sighed
heavily and shook his head, dry scrubbing his hand over his face.
“No, you’re right. It’s probably not a big deal.” He relented, dropping his
hand and laying back down. “I was already checked out at the hospital, they
said I was fine. But I’ll rest, ok?”
===============================================================================
By the expressions crossing Dean’s face, Sam thought he might have a fight on
his hands. Then again, he really doubted Dean would make it out the door, or
too far out the door. But when he finally agreed to rest, a sense of relief ran
through him. “Okay. I’ll bring your breakfast in here,” he said, leaving the
door open and walking out.
It hovered invisibly over Dean. In his sleep, Dean had gotten a taste of his
brother. He’d be primed and ready for more sex... just one touch would have him
on his knees, crying for it. He was so pretty when he was needy, and even
prettier when he tried to fight those needs, to control them for his brother.
Speaking of the brother... It sensed angst laced with lust coming from the boy.
Interesting. Maybe later, once he finished the older Winchester, he’d give the
younger one his brother back... until he wore Sam out too. Then both brothers
would be together into eternity.
It dropped down, on its knees, straddling Dean’s hips, with just the sheets
separating his naked body from Dean’s. He started to ride Dean, no
preliminaries, nothing. “You kissed me. In your sleep, you kissed me. Why?” He
licked his lips, placed both hands on Dean’s chest and leaned down over him.
“Is this what you really wanted, Dean?”
===============================================================================
Sam’s obvious relief when Dean agreed to rest made the older boy feel a little
less guilty for staying home like this when he should be working. When he had
already missed two days of work because he was stupid enough to get into the
accident in the first place. Losing two days worth of pay. Money that was
supposed to pay for taking care of Sam while their father was away.
Tomorrow. If he wasn’t on his death bed, he was definitely going to work
tomorrow and working a double shift if his boss let him to help make up for it.
He rubbed his eyes again tiredly. Almost unable to believe he was still feeling
so fucking drained after he’d just slept all night. The sudden weight landing
on him was definitely not what he was expecting and the his yelp of surprise as
his hand dropped and his eyes snapped open was cut off by a moan he simply
couldn’t contain at the sudden pressure against his groin.
Heat. Pressure. Friction.
“Sam…” Dean all but squeaked his brother’s name as his hands scrambled for some
kind of purchase, ending up on the younger boy’s bare thighs and he practically
choked on his next breath at Sam’s words. Kissed him? In his… but it was just
a… he’d been dreaming… then what was this? What the fuck was this?
“What…”
===============================================================================
Lust and confusion, so delicious. Sam didn’t slow down, especially once he felt
Dean’s hand squeeze his thighs, sending heat spiraling through him. He didn’t
give Dean any personal space at all, still leaning over him, hand splayed
across his chest.
He watched as Dean tried to get himself together, could see... feel the teen
struggle. Dipping his head down, he licked across Dean’s mouth, felt the
instantaneous reaction, so strong... so strong it made him dizzy.
“Feel good... need this,” he whispered, pulling up from Dean’s mouth before his
brother could draw him into a kiss. “Ever since the last time. When you touched
me... when your mouth was on me. Dean... I was imagining this... is... is that
okay?” He asked like he was struggling with the question, like he needed
reassurance. “I was imagining this, and you calling me ‘baby brother’... can
you do that? Do that for me?”
Oh he was wicked, but this boy had so much to give him. He wanted to wring out
every bit of emotion, and more.
===============================================================================
“Oh god, Sammy…” Dean groaned, his lips parting almost against his will when
his brother licked across them. Only it definitely wasn’t against his will,
because he wanted this so fucking much it hurt. His lips ached to feel, to
taste, the younger boy’s mouth. His hands burned to touch and caress every inch
of soft warm skin. His cock was already hard and throbbing against Sam’s bare
ass, the only thing separating their flesh a thin sheet, but even that was too
much.
He wanted, needed, more.
But when he tried to kiss his brother, Sam pulled back, and Dean whined softly
in protest. Panting. Begging silently with his eyes, even as the younger boy
drove him crazy. He shouldn’t want this so much, damn it. He shouldn’t need
this so much. He should tell Sam that they shouldn’t, it was wrong, that it had
been a mistake. That he was sorry, he never should have laid a hand on his
brother. He never should have kissed him. Never should have tasted him. Just
because Dean was fucked up he shouldn’t fuck his baby brother up too…
But the way Sammy was touching him, talking to him like he needed this just as
much as Dean did, asking him if it were all right. So unsure… so beautiful…
Dean felt his resolve crumbling away like a sandcastle before a tsunami.
“It’s ok… it’s ok Sammy…” Dean reassured softly, the need inside of him burning
him up from the inside out, and he didn’t give a damn. He slid his hands up the
younger boy’s back, cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer and not
letting Sam pull away this time as he whispered, “Need this too, need you, baby
brother, need you so much…”
===============================================================================
Dean’s words, repeated over and over, crashed over him. He allowed Dean to pull
him closer, but slowly, tantalizing him, making him wait for the contact
between their mouths, making want it. The way Dean was lifting his hips,
rubbing his arousal against his ass, seeking relief, he knew they were moments
away from Dean rolling him over. That the need building inside the teen would
blow out of control.
“Me too... me too, Dean...” he leaned down, letting his lips slide past Dean’s
to his ear. “Want to try what we did before. But ...” he hesitated. “I want to
lay down, and then you can fuck my mouth. Want to see you... want to hear you
saying it again, calling me your baby brother. Is that sick?”
Oh God such delicious guilt laced lust lanced through it’s body, before it gave
a silent snarl and dissipated into thin air, cheated out of its dessert.
Sam stood at the door, his cheeks a bit red. “Need what? And I’m not your ‘baby
brother,’” he huffed, unsure why it felt like an intimate moment or something.
He had Dean’s coffee, and he’d brought him some toast. His brother’s face
looked flushed, like it had when they’d kissed. And the sheets... they weren’t
hiding much, not from Sam’s sharp gaze.
He swallowed. Forced himself to walk over and set Dean’s breakfast down on the
nightstand, then sit on the edge of the bed. “Is your fever back?” Without
giving Dean a chance to answer, he leaned over him, touched his forehead, his
cheek, and slid his hand down over his throat. “You’re just a little hot.”
===============================================================================
Oh God!
Was it sick? Yes. It was sick, twisted, and wrong in every possible way, but
Dean couldn’t deny that he wanted it. The mental image burned like a brand into
his brain and his cock throbbed hot and ready to feel his little brother’s lips
wrapped around it. His baby brother’s mouth open wide and taking his thick cock
as deep as he could as Dean fucked his mouth…
God help him… He belonged in hell for wanting this, but he couldn’t make
himself stop. Even if he dragged his brother down there with him?
Even that horrifying thought wasn’t enough to cool the need inside of him and
Dean hated himself all the more for it. However when the image of his brother
suddenly vanished from in front of his eyes, his hands grasping nothing but air
where there had been warm flesh Dean’s mind was left reeling. What… not Sam…
but… he’d been dreaming again? No, he was awake… What the fuck?
Sam’s soft voice from the door, laced with half annoyance half concern had
Dean’s eyes snapping in that direction and he could really only hope the
confused panic, the crushing guilt, he felt was not so visible on his face.
Sam… his Sam, his brother, not his sick imaginings… had heard him. Oh god, how
he must look. How much had Sam heard? What had he heard? Dean couldn’t even
remember what he’d said anymore…
Dean didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to say. Sam didn’t look
disgusted at him, just concerned. When Sam touched his forehead, his face, it
was all Dean could do not to flinch away from his brother’s fingers. It was all
he could do not to burst into hopeless tears and tell Sam everything, begging
his brother’s forgiveness when he was done.
Maybe he should go back to the hospital… this... wasn’t normal. But what the
hell was he supposed to tell them? That he was hallucinating about fucking his
fifteen year old brother?
“I don’t know…” Dean finally managed to whisper.
===============================================================================
Dean’s admission just got him more worried. If there was any chance in hell
that Dean would agree, Sam would have called an ambulance or figured out some
other way to get Dean to the hospital. But he could see how it would all go
down. First Dean would tell the doctors that he was just fine. They’d think the
low grade fever was nothing, and send him home. Then Dean would kill him.
Hospital was pretty much out.
“Okay, we’ll watch the fever, and see what happens,” he reluctantly agreed.
“But you gotta eat.” Ignoring the look of displeasure that crossed Dean’s face,
he stuck a couple of the pillows up against the headboard and scooted a bit
further away while Dean sat up. He really did look like hell.
Dragging his gaze away, Sam first had him drink some more water. Then he gave
him the coffee, which Dean set on the other side of the bed. And then he
watched him start eating the toast with jam. Only when Dean was half way done,
was Sam satisfied that his brother would eat, or at least get something inside
him. Neither of them had eaten the night before.
He rambled on a little, just making conversation about having wanted to go to
summer school and didn’t Dean think it was dumb that only remedial students
could go. It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t find stuff to do, but more that
vacation was just too long. Especially with Dean working and dad gone. And he
wasn’t even gonna bring up the fact that it wasn’t a ‘real’ vacation, if they
didn’t do anything other than go on hunts. Looking at Dean from under his
lashes, he figured he’d bored his brother enough. “I’m gonna bring the t.v. in
here,” he said. “We can watch.”
It glared at the young teen walking out of the room. How was it to take Dean,
wring all of his lust out of him, when the younger one planned on watching him?
Landing on the bed, straddling Dean thighs again, pushing the plate out of the
way, he licked the jam off Dean’s lips, putting a hand on his cheek. “Tell him
no t.v., you’re tired. Tell him to stay out of the room, and you can dream of
me… Please Dean, I need you… need you so bad…” he rubbed his mouth back and
forth against Dean’s until the younger brother carrying the t.v. “Choose me…”
===============================================================================
Sam sounded so fucking calm. Worried, sure, but calm. When Dean felt like he
was close to panicking, losing his mind, or most likely both. Maybe Sam hadn’t
heard too much? Didn’t suspect? Surely his brother wouldn’t be offering him
food and helping him sit up so he could eat if Sam thought he was some kind of
sicko.
Eat… Dean frowned slightly. He probably should, but at the same time food was
really the last thing on his mind right now. Sam didn’t really give him a
choice though, pushing a glass of water into his hands and practically giving
him the evil eye until he drank. Dean was still feeling guilty enough about…
everything… he put up with the pampering without much fuss. He drew the line
however at letting Sam spoon feed him. He’d eat, but he’d feed himself, damn
it.
He was a little surprised that once he got a little bit of toast into him his
stomach began cramping in demand for more. The empty hollow feeling in his
stomach he hadn’t even really been paying attention to before definitely making
itself known. Damn, he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was. Dean made sure
to pace himself slowly though, it wasn’t going to do him any good if he ate and
then threw up right afterwards.
Sam talking about wanting to go to summer school had Dean rolling his eyes a
little. He’d never understood how Sam could actually enjoy school so much. Dean
couldn’t wait to graduate just so he didn’t have to go anymore and could go on
more hunts with Dad. He would have quit school early, if Dad had let him, but
that was one thing their father had insisted on, that he graduate high school,
even if Dean barely graduated.
“You could always flunk a little, then they’d send you to summer school.” Dean
suggested and Sam responded with his bitch face and the older boy grinned back.
When Sam finally suggested bringing the TV in here so they could watch again,
Dean almost protested, he could watch TV just fine on the couch but he didn’t
get the chance.
Sam was barely out of the room when Dean suddenly found himself faced with a
very naked version of his brother in his lap once more, grinding down on him
and licking his lips, and Dean’s thoughts of not right, very wrong were pushed
away by the thick blanket of lust that clouded his thoughts. Tell Sam to… ?
Choose? Oh god… he needed this… needed Sam so much… but…
An image of his brother sitting curled up on the bus bench in the rain flashed
before Dean’s eyes and it was enough to penetrate the fog just a little. This
wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t his brother… he… loved Sam. He needed Sam, not this. He
wasn’t going to push Sam away again. He was going to control this, damn it! It
was all in his head and he could control it!
“No…” Dean finally managed to force out, shaking his head, trying to clear his
mind. Not right. Something’s not right. Even as the hallucination vanished
again, Dean put his hand to his forehead, groaning softly at the throbbing
behind his eyes. He felt something warm and wet drip from his nose down to his
lip, and when he tried to lick it away Dean wasn’t surprised by the thick taste
of copper. Dean might have been stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. He looked up at
Sam as his brother came in with the television, waited at least until the
younger boy put it down on the dresser before he spoke.
“I need to go back to the hospital.”
===============================================================================

Sam repositioned the television. "No... what?" he asked, a smile on his face as
he turned. Dean's words hit him at the same time as the sight of blood dripping
from Dean's nose. It took him just about three seconds to get to Dean's side,
lifting his face and sucking his breath in. He'd seen Dean bleed worse than
this, a lot worse. But this was just confirmation of the bad feeling that kept
coming and going. Nodding, he couldn't bring himself to say anything just yet.
He passed Dean a towel that had been hanging off the chest of drawers, and came
back to sit down next to him as he called for an ambulance. "Ah... yes, that's
my address. It's my brother, he's sick. Well, actually he has a nose bleed and-
-" Sam frowned as he was cut off by the voice on the other side telling him
that due to the weather, they were having lots of nose bleeds. Then he was
asked how much blood there was. "Well not much at the mom--"
He grit his teeth as he was advised on how to deal with nose bleeds, something
he was very familiar with. "Hold on, listen to me," he insistent, eyes
narrowing in frustration. "I'm not just calling about a fu... a nose bleed. He
was in an accident, they said he might have a concussion. He's had headaches
and he just..." Sam looked over at Dean. "He doesn't look right. Instead of
getting better, it looks like he's getting worse. Fever? Last night yeah, now
only a little... maybe."
He grit his teeth as the dispatcher talked to him about the flu and that Dean
was probably experiencing multiple problems, rather than just one major issue.
He took a couple breaths, deep ones, then he shouted, "Oh my God, his eyes are
rolling back... oh my God, oh my God... get here... help me..." with that, he
dropped the phone onto the table and crossed the room. Returning with shorts,
sweats and a tee, he pulled the sheets off his brother's naked body. He wasn't
kidding anymore, nor was he shy or did he give himself time to think about what
had happened in that bed last night.
"Legs." He pulled the shorts up to Dean's knees, then followed with the jeans.
"Can you stand?" Putting an arm under his brother's armpit, he started to haul
his heavy ass up, tugging on his clothes at the same time.
===============================================================================
Dean took the offered towel with a nod of thanks, even though he was internally
kicking himself. He hated seeing that scared look in the younger boy’s eyes
though Sam was doing a good job at masking it. This was all his fault… he
should have listened to Sam, should have gone back to the hospital the first
time he realized he wasn’t dreaming but actually seeing things when he was
awake. Instead getting off on his fucking hallucinations, so fucking stupid.
Now… what if he was bleeding in his brain? What was that called, an aneurysm?
What if he was fucking dying right now while he tried to stop a stupid bloody
nose?
Though as he watched and listened to Sam on the phone, holding the towel to his
nose that was slowly coloring crimson, he began to doubt again. Maybe he really
didn’t need to go to the hospital? Maybe he was overreacting? Maybe it was
nothing…
When Sam started shouting though Dean actually jumped in surprise and his eyes
widened in shock. Sam was a damned good actor. It made him want to check in the
mirror just to make sure his eyes weren’t rolling back, or that he wasn’t
seizing or something.
Finally the ambulance on its way, fuck, their dad was going to kill him… their
insurance cards were going to be worthless after this. Two hospital visits AND
an ambulance? If they’d had a car he would have insisted that Sam drive him,
but they didn’t, because he’d gotten stupid drunk, crashed it, and now he might
be bleeding into his brain…
He wasn’t embarrassed in the least when Sam tugged away the sheets from him and
started helping him get dressed. He had other shit to worry about right now.
“Yeah.” He confirmed with a slight nod, though when Sam proceeded to haul him
up Dean was shocked by how unsteady he really was. He could stand, barely, but
he had to hold onto his brother to keep himself steady when a wave of dizziness
hit him. Dean was afraid he might just lose what little breakfast he’d had
after all.
===============================================================================
His brother was so fucking cooperative that it scared the crap out of Sam. He
tried not to show it, tried to be strong and positive, getting him dressed and
helping him back down onto the bed. It hadn't escaped his notice that his
brother had put practically his entire weight on him. And he'd thought he could
go in to work? He noticed the way Dean's brows furrowed, like he was worried.
"It's gonna be alright. You don't have to worry about... work and shit, not now
Dean. I'll take care of it, alright?" If he had to, he would call their dad.
But that would only be a last resort because it would be a heckofalot better if
everything was normalized, car was fixed, and Dean was better before their dad
got back. There might still be yelling, but it wouldn't be the kind that would
blow the roof off the house.
The sound of sirens approached. "Lemme get the door," Sam said, swapping the
towel Dean had been holding for a new one. "Hold your head up." Fear made him
snap, then guilt flooded his insides. No time for apologies, Dean would
understand.
It was the hardest thing, standing back, watching the paramedics take his
brother's vitals, getting told to shut up when he tried to ask questions, find
out results. Dean was a mess... but so was Sam. He felt lost, unable to help,
and the lack of information killed him the most.
*
He made them take him along. All he grabbed was the lap top and Dean's wallet,
and jumped into the ambulance. His eyes were always on his brother,
encouraging, telling him it was fine. It wasn't as if Dean was going into
cardiac arrest or having a stroke or... Oh my God, he had to stop thinking like
that. He rand his hand though his hair, telling himself again, it would be
fine. Dean had been injured a lot worse... this wouldn't... it couldn't... no,
he didn't look that bad.
*
In the hospital, they took his brother away despite having words with him over
it. He paced the halls, eyes swinging toward every doctor, every nurse that
came out of the swinging doors through which they'd taken Dean. Eventually, a
doctor came out to talk to him. Told him that though Dean had a low grade
fever, and they weren't sure why he was suffering from the nose bleed, they
couldn't see anything specifically wrong. Then he launched into an explanation
of the MRI testing and what to expect from the results.
*
The white clad male nurse walked in behind the female and told her he'd take
over. The instant she left, it turned to Dean in his brother's form. "You
should have listened to me, chosen me. Now look where he brought you."
The confident air fell from Sam, and he approached the bed hesitantly. "You're
sick. I'll make you feel better Dean. I will, promise," he said, biting his
lower lip as he pulled the thin white sheet off his brother's body. He ran his
hand down Dean's chest, then over the light blue hospital pants, cupping his
groin. "Want it? Want me to make this all go away Dean? Want to come in my
hand?"
===============================================================================
Sammy reassuring him, telling him not to worry... Sammy taking care of him,
helping him get dressed and giving him a fresh towel when the other one was all
bloody… Sammy promising him everything was going to be all right… It was all so
wrong, all so backwards. It should be him reassuring Sam, him taking care of
Sam, him promising his brother everything would be all right. But it wasn’t as
though Dean could do anything to change that right now. He wanted to make it
right, he really did, but how could he?
His headache was getting worse and he could barely sit up on his own. He felt
dizzy, weak, light headed, and all he could do was nod and sit there on the
edge of the bed while Sam went to answer the door when the ambulance arrived.
All he could do was sit there, holding his head back to keep most of the blood
from getting everywhere as they shined lights in his eyes, took his pulse, and
checked his breathing. He tried to answer their questions the best he could,
but he was finding it hard to concentrate. His eyes shifting away from the
paramedics and looking towards Sam again and again, as though seeking
reassurance, maybe just to make sure Sam was still there, real. Wrong… but he
couldn’t stop himself from doing it…
The paramedics taking him out of their house, the ambulance ride back to the
hospital, being wheeled into the emergency room, all passed in a kind of blur.
He started to put up a fuss when they wouldn’t let Sam come with him, he didn’t
know why, but he knew that he needed Sam there, with him. He needed Sam. He
needed him… he kept telling them that, but instead they had given him a
sedative.
It made him feel groggy, tired, and it was hard to focus on what was going on.
But it didn’t do anything for the pain in his head, and he wished they could
have at least given him some pain killers too if they were going to drug him
up.
He wasn’t asleep, at least he was pretty sure he wasn’t asleep, when he heard
Sam’s voice. Soft and admonishing at first, but when he opened his eyes Sam
looked only hesitant, unsure, and worried as he approached the bed. Dean tried
to offer him a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. It didn’t
matter. He didn’t care. All he cared was that Sam was there. Finally Sam was
there…
Dean sighed softly as the sheet covering him was drawn away and a soft moan
escaped his throat when his brother’s warm hand slid down his body. God, even
that light touch felt so good. He knew this was wrong but he couldn’t bring
himself to care. Even before Sam cupped him, squeezed him, and Dean’s hips
bucked up into the touch in spite of himself. A groan escaping his parted lips.
“Sammy… yes… Sam…” Dean begged softly.
===============================================================================

It knew how much Dean was resisting, wanting to escape, wanting his real
brother to help stop these ‘dreams’ that went too far. At the same time, how
could he resist when it wore Sam’s face? Was everything that Dean wanted and
needed, especially now, once it had given him a taste of forbidden fruit?
“Don’t move,” Sam whispered, grinding the heel of his hand into Dean’s cock,
smiling with satisfaction as it filled out and hardened under his hand. “I’ll
take care of you, Dean. Like you take care of me,” he whispered. Eyes locked
with his brother’s, he squeezed and pleasured him, but just enough to make him
want more, need it,
He pushed his free hand under Dean’s powder blue top, moving it over his abs,
digging his fingers in lightly, moving, and squeezing again, mapping his body
out. “Used to watch you. When you did your push ups, I used to watch. Then I’d
go to the bathroom… and I didn’t know why I had to… I had to…
Licking his lips, he tugged Dean’s pajama pants down, and closed his fist
around his cock. “I’d go slow, real slow, just saying your name… over and over…
Dean, Dean… Dean…”
===============================================================================
Dean wasn’t sure he could have moved even if he wanted to when Sam’s hand
started squeezing and rubbing him through the thin pants he was wearing. His
cock was stiffening quickly to the stimulation despite how much like crap the
rest of his body felt, however the haze of lust blanketing his thoughts was
making him not care about that at all. Everywhere that Sam touched him, heat
spread through him, making him forget about anything else but Sam’s touch.
“Sammy…” Dean moaned, his eyes rolling back a little, and his stomach muscles
clenching beneath his brother’s hand. His hips bucking up against the younger
boy’s hand, seeking more of Sam’s touch.
Yes, he wanted Sam to take care of him, he wanted Sam…
His brother telling him how he used to watch him, and then touch himself, made
Dean gasp sharply. Looking up at Sam in wonderment. God, was that true? Or was
it only his sick imaginings that wanted it to be true?
“Love you, Sammy… need you…” Dean gasped, begging as he thrust up into Sam’s
fingers curled around his hard cock.
===============================================================================
Sam stroked slowly, carefully, lovingly, sliding his fist up and down Dean’s
hardening flesh. His gaze was fixed on the youth, weak and dizzy, the slave of
lust pumping powerfully through his veins. So much hope, so much need, such
absolute desire.
His nostrils started to flare, his heart beating faster as he feasted on Dean’s
emotions, his desires. His own cock grew hard, so hard it took his breath away.
“Want me to lick you?” Sam showed Dean his tongue, and instantly felt the
youth’s lust spike up... saw it in his eyes, in the way his hips moved with
more desperatio.
“Want me to take you in my mouth. Suck you hard? Swallow you?” He asked in a
breathy tone, jacking Dean off just a little faster... still not enough to
satisfy him... making sure he craved and wanted.
He moved his other hand over to Dean’s face, pushing his thumb into his
brother’s mouth... watching as he wove it in and out. “Just like that? Like
you’re sucking my thumb, want me to?”
Again and again, he asked whether Dean wanted him to do things... this he
stirred Dean’s imagination and desires with, but cruelly withheld. It went on
and on, until he could stand it no longer himself.
He unzipped, pulled his jeans down part way and climbed up onto the hospital
bed over Dean. Straddling him would give too much satisfaction, so instead, he
started to fuck up against him, pressing and rubbing his cock against Dean’s,
letting out soft moans. “Love you... love you too Dean.”
A few seconds later, Sam came. Eyes wide, filling with tears, he started to
apologize. “I’m sorry Dean... I couldn’t help myself, oh God...” Despite the
fact Dean was bucking up under him, trying to find release, Sam hopped off the
bed, tears running down his cheeks.
===============================================================================
“Sammy…” Dean whimpered his brother’s name again and again, every gentle stroke
of the younger boy’s hand up and down his hard cock making him tremble. It was
just a hand job, but because it was Sam it was so much more. He couldn’t stop
moaning and trying to fuck up into the younger boy’s fist. Every stroke made it
harder and harder for him to think. He didn’t even want to think anymore. He
just wanted to feel this. He just wanted Sam to keep touching him…
“Oh god…. Yes… Sam… yes…” He gasped, his fingers clenching in the sheets
beneath him as though he was holding on for dear life. Just imagining his baby
brother’s mouth on him again, licking him, sucking him. Dean was panting harder
as Sam’s hand began to move faster along his flesh yet somehow still teasing
him. Intensifying his arousal without bringing him to the edge, it was the
sweetest torture that Dean had ever experienced.
“Please…” Dean whimpered and then moaned as Sam pushed his finger into his
mouth. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed with a groan as he began to suck and swirl
his tongue around the younger boy’s finger like it was Sam’s cock. He began to
buck harder, moan louder, and he didn’t care that they were in the middle of a
crowded hospital where any doctor or nurse could walk in and catch them at any
time. All he cared about was Sam making him come, giving him release, god, he
was so hard he hurt…
He forced his eyes back open when suddenly Sam was on him, the younger boy’s
hard cock sliding against his own and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from
shouting as his hands moved from gripping the bed sheets to gripping Sam’s
hips. He choked on his own moans at Sam’s whispered words. Telling him he loved
him.
“Sammy…” Dean breathed, watching in awe as his brother came undone, he was so
close himself he felt like he was balancing on a razor’s edge as he continued
to buck against the younger boy. But then suddenly everything changed, Sam
looked like he was on the verge of tears as he scrambled away from him,
apologizing. Leaving Dean unsatisfied, but he really didn’t care about that
right now, despite his body’s needs. He managed to sit up, even though he was
so dizzy, from lust or sickness he didn’t know, he nearly fell out of the bed
as he reached out to catch the younger boy’s wrist.
“Sam, no, please… why are you sorry? You’ve don’t have anything to be sorry
for. Please, Sammy… don’t cry… I love you.”
===============================================================================
“No you don’t.” He met his brother’s eyes. “I wish you did... then you’d send
him away.”
Just like that, it disappeared.
“Dean? What are you doing?” Sam asked, walking inside the hospital room and
putting his arm around Dean who looked like he was trying to get out of bed.
“You’re supposed to rest... what are you thinking?” He pushed him down, and
repositioned the pillows.
Then he looked down the length of Dean’s body, swallowing at the sight of his
brother’s erection. No he hadn’t been looking for it, but there was no way in
hell he could miss it.
Trying to keep his eyes off Dean’s groin, he pulled the sheets up, all the way
to Dean’s chest, his own cheeks now flushing. “Please don’t do anything to make
yourself worse, please?”
He had half a mind to put the railings up, just to make sure Dean stayed put.
But he could sit here and make sure he didn’t try anything.
“They.... so far they can’t find anything wrong. Some of the results will come
tomorrow, but...” Sam shrugged. “They said maybe you have a flu and that the
symptoms and you’re just feeling worse because of the accident.”
He didn’t believe it. Not in his gut. He touched Dean’s forehead again, then
leaned over him. “Anything you haven’t told us? A pain somewhere else, maybe?
Anything Dean, you gotta help us out, here.”
===============================================================================
The words were like a knife to the gut and Dean found that he couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t even move as he stared into the space where his brother had been,
no, the hallucination his mind had conjured up that had just reminded him what
a sick fuck he really was. His arousal burned away in an instant, leaving a
cold bitter hole in his chest and despite how hard and close to the edge he’d
been, left unsatisfied, he began to wilt like he’d been dumped in a tub of ice.
Unfortunately not before Sam was there, his Sam, his real brother, who was
helping him back into the bed. Fussing over him. But Dean was still far too
shocked and numb to answer the younger boy’s questions or his concern. That was
probably a good thing because otherwise Dean might have simply broken down into
tears.
The worst part of it was, that the other Sam, the one he dreamed of, was right.
Maybe not about sending his brother away because Dean could never do that, but
because if he really loved Sam he Dean wouldn’t be… getting off… so easily on
his own sick fantasies. Even if they were only in his mind. Even if they didn’t
really “hurt” anyone, he still shouldn’t allow himself… it was his baby brother
he was fantasizing about damn it!
His little brother, who wasn’t so little anymore, talking to him about the test
results, that the doctors weren’t sure what was wrong with him. Looking at him
so worried, and having absolutely no idea what a sick fuck his big brother
really was. Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at Sam in the eyes as he slowly
shook his head.
It’s not like he could tell his brother about the hallucinations. He could tell
Sam he was seeing things, but then the younger boy would grill him endlessly on
exactly what he was seeing and his brother could see through his lies more
often than Dean liked. Maybe something would come back on the tests…
===============================================================================
“Dean?” His brother looked so damned hopeless… Biting his lower lip, Sam let
him go, but stood close to the bed for a while, never taking his eyes off him.
Weird… he got the feeling his brother was avoiding his gaze, like he was trying
to hide something. Then again, knowing Dean, he might just be hiding his pain.
He didn’t know what to do. He felt so damned helpless. Again, a voice in his
head told him it might be time to call dad. Was it to that point yet? He had no
clue. The docs said one thing… but Dean looked… he looked worse than he did
when he came out of a hard hunt.
When his brother said nothing more, he flicked the t.v. on, if only to fill the
room with some sound. Hours went by, neither of them talking. When lunch was
brought to Dean, Sam had to talk him into having at least a little of it, and
then he finished up the left overs. One think Sam wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an
answer on was drinking, he made sure Dean got plenty of water.
The nose bleeds continued. They’d stop, then he could see Dean was getting
dizzy or nauseous again, and then scarlet liquid would start dripping again.
Frustrated by getting no answers from the doctors and staff, Sam plugged in his
lap top. Thank God the hospital had a free network, because in his rush, he
hadn’t packed their sim card for the lap top.
For hours, he tried to find answers, putting together everything he knew.
Accident. Head injury. Nausea. Nose bleeds. Looking over at Dean, he decided to
add to his list, ‘overemotional.’ He might not be going nuts, but Sam felt the
undercurrent of emotions. He’d put it down to their issues, but nah, there was
something more.
He looked up suddenly, and gripping Dean’s arm, asked. “Hey, you think you’ve
come into contact with anything lately? Like… you know, not a disease but… What
was that job you went on alone?” he asked. Neither his dad nor Dean had talked
about it, other than in general terms that he’d guessed were meant to stop his
questions. When that didn’t work, his dad had shut him up with a reminder that
he didn’t seem all that interested when he’d first mentioned the job… yeah,
cause he’d been keeping his head down and trying not to get dragged into it.
“You know, the one you wouldn’t talk about. Just thinking what if… I know it’s
crazy, but what if the doctors are right and this isn’t a physical thing?”
===============================================================================
Dean didn’t answer his brother. Sam didn’t exactly ask him a question anyway,
and Dean didn’t know what to say besides. Sam thankfully didn’t push him,
instead turning on the television and giving them both an excuse not to talk
anymore. Not that Dean really watched the TV either, but it was still better
than the silence or talking. This way he could try to forget the last words
his… not his brother but still… had said to him. Not that Dean thought he ever
would forget. Not again. Just how sick he really was, and he didn’t mean the
reason he was in this hospital bed.
He was still feeling nauseous and not in the least bit hungry when they brought
him his “lunch” if you could even call it that. At first he refused to eat, but
then Dean had made the mistake of actually looking his brother in the eye as
Sam tried to get him to eat just a “little” bit of it. Dean stopped arguing
immediately after that and reluctantly picked up his fork. Though each mouthful
had to practically be choked down.
After he had eaten about a quarter of what was on the plate he knew he simply
couldn’t stomach anything more without it coming right back up. Thankfully Sam
didn’t insist again and simply finished off the remainder of his food. Of
course that made him feel even more guilty, if that was even possible. He
almost suggested that Sam go down to the cafeteria or something and get himself
something to eat, but Dean was afraid that if Sam left then he would start to
see things again… but what if he started to see things while his brother was
here?
Again the words echoed in his head. If he really loved Sam he’d send him away…
was that what it meant? But he couldn’t… he couldn’t send Sam away… he couldn’t
hurt the younger boy like that again. Pushing him away like that… he’d promised
Sam he wouldn’t… that he would try to make it better.
Yeah… he was doing a great job of that…
The nosebleeds were getting annoying and making him feel light headed. Still
the doctors and nurses didn’t seem all that concerned about them, just kept
bringing him fresh towels whenever the next one started. Maybe he should
suggest to Sam they just leave, he could lie in bed and bleed at home just fine
on his own.
Dean choked on his words though before they were even out of his mouth. It was
like he didn’t have any right to even speak to Sam. But after a few hours of
Dean pretending to watch TV and Sam working away at his laptop, when the
younger boy suggested that maybe what was happening to him had something to do
with the supernatural, Dean felt himself go cold.
He stared down at Sam’s hand gripping his arm even as his mind raced. Could it?
Maybe it wasn’t all in his head? Why hadn’t he thought that before? Or had he?
He wasn’t sure anymore, he always got so confused… distracted…
“No, I don’t think so.” Dean finally forced out. It was a bald faced lie, but
it’s not like he could tell the younger boy the truth. He could never tell Sam
what he was seeing. If it really was some kind of creature and not all in his
head Dean had to deal with this… it… by himself. The older boy had more than
enough anger and determination to do so. Taking his brother’s form… toying with
him… He just had to figure out what the hell it was and he was going to kill
the son of a bitch.
===============================================================================
Noticing the way Dean looked at his hand, Sam immediately let go of Dean’s
forearm. He didn’t want to let go of the subject, he wanted to explore it
further, but he recognized the stubborn look Dean was wearing. And they said
Sam was the stubborn one. “Maybe we should think about it. Explore it…
possibilities, brainstorm…”
He trailed off when Dean’s reaction remained essentially unchanged. Yeah, Dean
thought he was he was making up crap, or was grasping at straws. He was the
expert, he and dad, and Sam knew nothing. Right.
He tried not to be hurt. Nah, he was angry, not hurt. This was just another
example of not taking him seriously, wanting him to be part of ‘their team’ but
yet never really treating him like he could add a lot of value. Not that he
wanted them to think otherwise… hell, it would make leaving easier. When the
time came.
His gaze slid to his brother, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see him
like this. Pale. Weak. Defeated.. He swore to himself that if Dean got any
worse, he was calling dad. Bowing his head, he went back to work on the lap
top.
Hours passed. Thirst had him looking up at the clock. Sure he’d had Dean’s
juice, but it was midnight now. Pulling out of the chair, he set the lap top on
it and stretched. “I’m gonna stretch my legs and get something from the soda
machine. I’ll get you something too.”
He walked out the door, rubbing his eyes as he headed down the long hall. The
cafeteria, with its vending machines was on the basement level. He’d take the
stair, just for the exercise.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon

Sam had let it go rather quickly, and maybe that should have worried Dean, but
he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth right now. His brother went
back to working on his laptop, leaving Dean to his thoughts as he tried to
"brainstorm" like the younger man had suggested. Trying to come up with
possible ideas of what it could be. Something that could appear and vanish
without a trace at will. Something that could change forms. Something that
could read his mind, knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what his worst fears
were. Then, of course, there was the sex...
The first thing that came to Dean's mind was a Succubus, but Succubae were all
female. Maybe some other kind of demon? Something similar?
Even as Dean tried to come up with some answers in his own head he felt his
eyes growing heavy despite how he tried to stay awake. It was a losing battle
however and eventually he slept. Waking up what had to be hours later by the
scrape of his brother's chair along the floor as Sam stood up.
"Okay." Dean answered a little groggily, giving the younger boy a nod, and
watching Sam leave his room. He almost expected... it... to show up as soon as
the younger boy left. It had before, but it didn't. Maybe if it knew he was on
to it now it would be more careful, or better yet, leave all together. That was
probably wishful thinking though.
Dean's eyes fell on the chair that his brother had vacated and the laptop
sitting on it. After only a moment's thought he leaned over and grabbed it. Sam
probably wouldn't be gone long, but he could at least try to start his own
research, if he could just get a better idea of what he might be dealing with.
The search was actually surprisingly short. Dean just typed in two simple
words: Male Succubus, not really knowing where else to begin but a result came
back immediately.
An Incubus...
===============================================================================
After chatting with the nurses for just a little while and finding out the time
that the doctors were expected in the morning, Sam made his way back to Dean’s
room. Finding him using his lap top, he smiled. “This is so not the time for
porn.” Yeah… the way he’d found Dean earlier, really not the time for it. But
he was happy that Dean was actually doing something. He’d barely watched t.v.
and not spoken a whole lot. This was the first time Sam had seen him actually
engaged by anything since this morning.
Dropping down into his seat, he pulled the tab off a soda can and set it down
on the table that went across Dean’s bed, where he now had the lap top. Then he
opened the other and took a long drink, quenching his thirst. “You look a
little better. Maybe… maybe you’re getting better.” He still looked pale, but
there hadn’t been bleeding in a while, and his eyes looked a bit more animated
rather than glazed over.
“This better not be your way of getting out of going to the lake… I still
expect you to take me,” he said, not hiding his smile. That was a long way off.
Dean had to get better, then the car would need to be repaired. Maybe dad would
be back by then and his fun trip would definitely be shot in the ass by the
elder Winchester.
===============================================================================
Dean read up as much on Incubi as he could in the short time that Sam was gone.
Unfortunately he didn’t come across much more than basic lore and no
information on how to get rid of one or kill one. Maybe the same things that
could kill a succubus would kill an incubus? But that was really a shot in the
dark, though they were similar in that they used sex to drain their victims of
their life force there were plenty of differences too. He could try to kill it
and end up only pissing it off… generally pissing off any supernatural creature
was a bad thing.
So far it had only come to him in the form of his little brother. Dean really
didn’t want to see the thing in its true form with no way to kill it.
When Sam returned he was so caught up in his research that he didn’t even
realize his brother was there for a couple of moments. Dean quickly closed out
the pages he was looking at before the younger boy returned to the chair he’d
vacated earlier. He smiled a little in thanks for the soda and took a drink
from it, he just realized his throat was pretty dry. Sam had been making him
drink but it probably hadn’t been enough.
“Maybe.” Dean said off handedly to his brother’s observation that he was
looking better, yeah, he was feeling better too. He knew that had to be because
he hadn’t had a visit from the incubus for a while. Dean was a little surprised
it hadn’t shown up while Sam was gone. Maybe it had decided to take off on its
own after all? Having a hunter for lunch was pretty dangerous, especially if
that hunter was on to you, Dean could hope…
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes a little at Sam’s comment about the lake.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” The older boy said sarcastically, but
not in a mean way. “I promised I’d take you didn’t I? So I’ll take you.”
Dean gave his brother a more genuine smile. Once he killed that son of a bitch
incubus he was looking forward to him and Sam just hanging out, making things
better between them. He’d promised, after all, and he’d meant it.
===============================================================================
“Yup... you will,” Sam agreed, making it sound like a threat. He could be like
a dog with a bone. “You done with the... or you can play with it,” he said,
assuming Dean was looking at porn. It was a good sign.
But as he sat down, he wished he hadn’t thought of porn and Dean in the same
sentence. He couldn’t help remembering the kissing in bed and that had his
cheeks burning. Steadfastly, he looked up at the television and took a drink of
his soda.
*
By the time the doctors came in the late morning, Sam was so damned tired you’d
think he’d been up all night. He’d slept, but it hadn’t been comfortable in the
chair. Then there were the nurses who came in and out checking on Dean, waking
both of ‘em up all night long.
And now the doctors were saying there was nothing wrong with Dean, that he
should go home and just get some rest. The nose bleeds were from the weather.
Sam was pissed but there was nothing he could do, especially once Dean started
to agree with them.
*
A couple hours later, they’d gotten a ride from one of the nurses who had
finished her shift. Sam had given Dean a look when she offered. It was clear
she was interested, and after helping to get Dean to bed, she offered to come
back at night, on her way back to the hospital.
Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, Sam waited to hear his brother’s
answer.
===============================================================================
Dean was exhausted. Sleeping in a hospital always sucked, but with Sam there,
the real Sam, he hadn’t had any more unwelcome “visitors” in his hospital room.
Unless he counted the eighty year old nurse that kept waking them both up
practically every hour when she came to “check up” on him. Really, why couldn’t
hospitals have more hot nurses like on TV?
Of course Dean wasn’t at all surprised when his doctor came in the next morning
to tell him he was fine. Even though he already knew his symptoms weren’t from
the crash it was still a bit of a relief to hear it confirmed. Once he got rid
of that damned incubus he should be fine in no time then.
He could tell his brother was pissed off by the doctor’s diagnosis though,
probably only made worse because the younger boy was cranky from lack of sleep
because of that damned un-hot nurse. Dean did his best to smooth his brother’s
ruffled feathers though, reassuring Sam he was feeling better anyway, there was
no reason they couldn’t go home now if the doctors said he was fine.
At least they’d managed to find a pretty hot nurse to take them both home so
they didn’t need to call a cab and waste their ever dwindling money supply.
Missing another day of work was the last thing on his mind right now
unfortunately. He could worry about scrounging up some spare cash for them once
he got rid of the incubus if it hadn’t split on its own already.
Even though he was feeling better he was still a little weak and unsteady so he
accepted Sam’s and the Julie’s (the hot nurse) help getting him inside and back
to bed. Her offer to come back later… definitely tempting… but one look at his
brother’s bitch face made Dean forget about even considering accepting.
“Thanks, but our dad will probably be home by tonight. Maybe some other time
though.” Dean said, giving her one of his most “sincere” regretful smiles as he
could.
===============================================================================
Sam rolled his eyes. How was it every other girl fell for his brother, whether
he was ill and looking like shit or his normal looking like shit self? Anyone
who kisses like that... Eyes widening at the unbidden thought, he tried to
shove it away. Not like the nurse would know Dean's kissing style before she
tried it out. Then he thought about how he shouldn't even be thinking about
Dean's kissing style.
After he walked the nurse out and locked the door, he was back in the room with
Dean, standing in the doorway. "Do you want to watch some t.v.? Or should I let
ya sleep?" He smiled, "or if you can't sleep but want to, I could bring you one
of my books."
===============================================================================
Dean was glad that the nurse didn’t seem upset, at his answer. Disappointed
maybe, but not upset. Really, if he didn’t have bigger things to think about
right now he probably would have taken her up on her offer, if only to take the
edge off his want for Sam. That’s all it seemed to do, sex with other people,
take the edge off. Never made the want go away completely.
No reason the damned incubus chose to appear to him as Sam. Dean tried really
hard not to think about how it had felt like to touch Sam’s skin finally, to
taste him finally, even if it wasn’t real. It was as close as he’d ever gotten
to what he needed, and as close to feeling satisfied as he’d felt in a while.
Even when the damned thing was toying with him, leaving him hard and aching
more than half the time.
His thoughts were mercifully cut off when his brother returned, and he smiled
at the younger boy’s offer to watch TV with him. But he could tell Sam was just
as tired as he was, and even if Sam wasn’t, Dean needed to do some more
research on that incubus. Maybe Dad would have some information here he could
use.
“I don’t think sleeping is gonna be a problem, and you gotta be as beat as I
am. I’ll call work and get some sleep. You should too.”
===============================================================================
“Okay, yeah, I am tired,” Sam agreed. “I’m gonna get you some water.” In the
kitchen, he almost whistled. Dean did look better. A lot better, even if the
hospital hadn’t really done anything special. He had some more color in him,
and he was a lot more… if not lucid, then ‘with it’ was the phrase he was
looking for. Yeah, his brother was on the mend.
Returning to Dean’s room, he set the talk glass of water down, then almost self
consciously climbed over Dean to get to the other side of the bed. “Wake me up
if you need anything,” he said. He’d decided he wouldn’t leave Dean alone cause
what if the fever came back, or he started bleeding again? Rolling on his side,
giving his brother his back, he closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to
sleep.
*
It was near the end of its tether, waiting for Dean to be alone. Unable to wait
any longer, it dropped into the room, naked, and on all fours, facing away from
Dean. He looked over his shoulder at his brother. “Dean, I need you,” he
whispered, stretching and arching his back.
He could feel need building inside Dean, but some resistance as well. He
couldn’t allow that, couldn’t let him regain ground. Biting his lip, he moved
his hand to his cock and started stroking. His brother couldn’t see everything,
but just enough to kick start his hormones and allow the addiction to grip him
again.
Whimpering, he pleaded. “Really need you Dean. Want you… please, like you
showed me before.” Biting his lip, he stroked himself a few more times, then he
started to crawl to the door. Gripping the door frame, he stood up, still
showing Dean only his back. His shoulders shook. He turned, tears streaming
down his cheeks. “Hurts Dean… when you don’t touch me. When you push me away…
when you look away. What have I done? Do you want me to leave?”
Without waiting for an answer, he walked out.
===============================================================================
Before Dean could protest that he didn’t need any water Sam was already gone
and he sighed a little and shrugged to himself. Sam seemed determined to play
nurse maid but he couldn’t really feel all that upset by it. In fact, it made
him feel good knowing that Sam cared about him enough to wait on him when he
was sick. Dean smiled a little. He’d put up with it a few more days before he
told Sam to cut it out. So when the younger boy returned, Dean merely smiled
and said, “Thanks, Sammy.”
Though when his brother proceeded to practically climb over him to get to the
other side of the bed, Dean’s heart did a little flip flop. He’d expected Sam
to go back to his room now that he was obviously feeling better. He was going
to wait a little while to make sure that Sam was asleep before he got up to do
more research on the incubus. Researching while Sam was sleeping next to him…
not going to be easy. What would he say if Sam woke up and asked him what he
was doing? Dean could only use the porn excuse so many times. Even a teenager
couldn’t get it up that often.
Dean sighed a little as he looked at Sam get settled and then he relaxed back
against the pillows as well. He guessed he could actually rest for a little
while after all while Sam slept. If he was feeling better later on he could
tell Sam that and maybe the younger boy would let up on his “watch”. Dean was
kind of tired anyway.
So he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Figuring while Sam was there
he’d at least get an uninterrupted sleep… wasn’t the first time he’d been
wrong.
He’d been drifting off when a powerful surge of arousal hit him out of the blue
and Dean knew instantly that it was there. It was getting bolder, showing up
while Sam was sleeping right next to him. It was hungry. That didn’t bode well
for him.
But even as he thought all these things, as he pushed himself up to look at it
he couldn’t stop his breath from hitching in his throat. Jesus fuck… Seeing Sam
on the floor on all floors, his perfect pale ass towards him, just begging to
be fucked. Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from
moaning at the sight of Sam’s fingers playing over his cock and balls. His dick
was already hardening even as he told himself over and over that it wasn’t Sam.
It wasn’t his brother it was a monster. Sam was sleeping right next to him… and
what would Sam think if he woke up to see that thing? Looking like him and Dean
already so hard he was pitching a tent underneath the sheets.
Dean swallowed hard, watching as it stood slowly, turned to look at him and
Dean felt his heart clench painfully seeing Sam’s tears even though a part of
him knew it wasn’t Sam. That part was slowly fading into the back of his mind
though. The knowledge this thing wasn’t Sam becoming buried under lust so
strong he couldn’t feel anything else. Not weakness, not sickness, only need.
He needed Sam and Sam… needed him…
No, don’t leave… He tried to say but he couldn’t get the words past the
tightening in his throat. Instead Dean pushed aside the covers and stood. Not
caring in the least how unsteady he was. Simply following Sam.
===============================================================================
Leaving the room, Sam... it... threw its head back in pleasure at Dean's
arousal crashing over him. Yes he was fighting, yes he wanted to deny him, but
Dean was losing the battle. Losing it bad. Needing him... this so bad, the
youth would go mad if he didn't have him.
Touching himself as he walked, he headed straight for the kitchen table. Moving
his forearm over it, he cleared it of papers and weapons, then crawled on top
of it. On his knees, he crouched down to his elbows, moving one hand between
his legs and stroking his shaft, moaning the instant he heard Dean walk in
behind him.
The window was open. Sam turned his head toward it, licking his lips.
"Sometimes... sometimes Mr. Totten, neighbor... he watches with his
binoculars." Desire and jealousy... that would make for an explosive
combination. Dean Winchester had left him hungry and now he would pay twice
over. "Saw him once at my window... his hand was in his pants," he said.
"Dean... it made me hard, even when it was you I was thinking of. Is that
alright?" Brilliant blue-green eyes turned to meet his brother's.
===============================================================================
Dean followed Sam into the kitchen. He had no idea what the hell the younger
boy wanted there, and truth was, he didn’t really care as long as he got what
he wanted. His dick was so damned hard it was making it even more difficult for
him to walk.
When he finally reached the kitchen, seeing Sam laid out on the table with his
ass high in the air, any remaining blood that hadn’t already rushed to his cock
made its way quickly there. Holy fuck, he’d never seen anything so sinfully
beautiful. So perverted and perfect. Sam waiting for him, moaning and touching
himself. The younger boy giving him the absolute perfect view of his ass and
his tight little hole Dean wanted nothing more than to plunge his fingers deep
into, opening Sam up to take his cock.
Dean had no idea whether or not his brother’s words regarding their neighbor
were true. Something in the back of his mind told him they were probably a lie,
but he didn’t fucking care right now. Just the idea of some old pervert
watching Sammy, getting off on watching his little brother, and Sam liking it.
Rage flashed through him so hot he practically shook with it. He crossed the
distance between him and Sam in a few quick steps and he grasped his brother’s
hips with a growl.
“No, it’s not all right.” Dean hissed as he pulled his brother back against
him, forcing Sam’s hips to the edge of the table, and pressed himself down over
the younger boy’s back at the same time. As his hands roamed all over his
brother’s body like he owned it, he rubbed his crotch against the younger boy’s
ass. The light hospital pants he was still wearing barely a barrier, his cock
fitting easily between Sam’s soft cheeks. Dean bit at the soft flesh of his
brother’s shoulder, licking soothingly over the marks he’d made, and then bit
the younger boy again a little higher on his neck. Working his way up until he
reached Sam’s ear. “You’re mine.”
===============================================================================
As Dean's emotions spiked, so did Sam's pleasure. A deep groan broke from him
as Dean was uncharacteristically brutal, pulling him roughly to the edge of the
table, hands roaming his body, possessively biting into his tender flesh,
reminding him who he belonged to.
He felt Dean's cock, unbelievably hard with built up and unreleased need from
all of the sexual torture since his brother had taken to watching him like a
hawk, pressing insistently between his ass cheeks, and groaned. Once Dean was
inside him, he was sure the hunter would be gone to this world… he'd be all
his. He'd never be able to give up his drug… he'd kill for him, even kill that
little brother he loved so much.
"Dean… " he moaned, as he was bitten on the shoulder then throat, a thrill
running through him at Dean's insistent 'mine.' "Yes, yes I'm yours… but you
weren't here… you didn't want me then, and he did," he started to cry. "He
looked at me the way I wanted you to. That's why I liked it Dean. I imagined
your eyes when he stared so hard, and your hand when he reached in his pants
and asked me to show him more."
He moved back, nudging his ass against Dean's arousal, grinding against him.
"Make me forget him. Make us forget him, Dean. Please…" he turned his head, his
mouth seeking Dean's. "Need you to fuck me… fuck him out of my mind. Please."
===============================================================================
Dean groaned, his fingers digging a little deeper into Sam’s soft flesh.
“Always wanted you, Sammy. Always…” He growled possessively in the younger
boy’s ear. Rubbing his cock harder against Sam’s perfect virgin ass and
groaning his pleasure and need into his brother’s mouth as he took the younger
boy’s lips in a scorching kiss. His tongue forcing his way into Sam’s mouth as
his hands slid up his brother’s torso, pulling Sam upright and back against his
chest. Forcing Sam to lean back against him as his hands slid possessively all
over the younger boy’s front. Toying with and pinching his brother’s nipples
till they were hard little nubs before sliding his hands down.
Oh yes. He was going to fuck Sam. He was going to fuck his little brother and
make him his. Any old pervert looking in on them was going to know just what a
sick fucked up family they really had when they watched his little brother
taking his cock up his ass. But they were going to also know that Sam was his
and only his!
Dean’s fingers curled around his brother’s hard weeping cock. Stroking the
younger boy hard and fast while he continued to rub his trapped erection
between those hot perfect ass cheeks. The front of his pants growing damp from
his own leaking fluids, and he moaned his pleasure into the younger boy’s mouth
with abandon.
Finally Dean broke their kiss and pushed the younger boy back down so that he
was spread out on the table once more. Moaning at the sight, his touches
morphed quickly from rough to gentle as he ran his now sticky wet fingers down
the length of Sam’s back. Sliding boldly over the cheeks of his brother’s ass
and then even more tenderly between them. His fingers eagerly finding the
younger boy’s hot puckered hole and moaning as he circled his brother’s opening
with the tip of one slick finger.
“Relax for me, baby brother. Relax and I’ll be inside of you soon.” Dean
whispered soothingly, caressing up and down the younger boy’s back as he slowly
pushed his finger into Sam’s willing body.
===============================================================================
Raising his arm, Sam managed to hook it behind Dean’s head, with made it easier
to kiss and be kissed at that angel. Dean’s kisses were an inferno of emotions.
Desire. Need. Love. Jealousy. The beginnings of a claiming. Sam writhed at the
things Dean’s hands were doing to his body, while his mouth was taken, over and
over by Dean’s tongue. Sounds broke from him, loud... getting louder, even
though he was aware of the need for quiet.
Then Dean’s cock was lodged between his ass cheeks, moving up and down, and his
brother’s calloused palm was riding his cock. “Oh ... oh God, De... Dean,” Sam
practically shouted, falling back against his brother as a shudder shook him
from head to toe.
He could feel the wet material rubbing against his ass, knew Dean was getting
close to the point of no return. He whimpered. “Need you ... need something
Dean... please... please, he moved restlessly, fucking his brother’s palm.
“Don’t stop...”
Then he was pushed back down on the table, on his forearms. He felt Dean touch
him in a place he hadn’t dared to before. A whimper broke from him as he turned
his head to watch his brother. Then Dean was pushing his finger inside and Sam
reached behind him and grabbed Dean’s arm. “Mmn... Dean... don’t know... don’t
know...” he chanted, but his body moved back and forth, so that he was fucking
himelf on Dean’s finger, playing both on his brother’s fears and lusts at the
same time. “Dean... want... don’t know... Dean...” he cried out.
===============================================================================
Dean froze instantly when Sam’s hand gripped his arm, stopping him from pushing
his finger any deeper into the younger boy’s body… but also preventing him from
pulling back. His heart was hammering so hard against his ribs he was afraid it
might break free any second. Guilt and lust warring inside of him. He
shouldn’t… he shouldn’t be doing this… it was wrong to touch Sam this way. So
very wrong… he shouldn’t… Sam didn’t want him to, his brother had stopped him…
But the younger boy was also moving his hips back and forth, taking Dean’s
finger into his body, fucking himself. So hot… so fucking tight and hot.
Feeling that exquisite tight heat had Dean’s dick throbbing so painfully hard
he moaned with more pain than pleasure now. Sam didn’t want him to stop, he was
just unsure. Dean would show him it was ok, show him how good it could feel.
The older boy leaned forward, running his hand possessively up and down the
length of his brother’s back. Encouraging the trembling muscles to relax. He
laid himself over Sam’s back, pressing his erection against the younger boy’s
hip as he wiggled his finger a little inside his brother’s body. Pressing
tender kisses to the back of Sam’s neck.
“It’s ok, it’s gonna feel good, so good, Sammy. Just relax…” He whispered,
drawing his finger out and pushing a little deeper. Curling the digit to search
out the special place within Sam that would make his brother whimper and moan
even more.
Dean began to kiss his way down his brother’s back, following the line of his
spine. His tongue darting out occasionally to taste the sweat slick skin. Not
stopping even when he reached the perfect swell of the younger boy’s buttocks.
His tongue sliding between those perfect cheeks, holding Sam open with his
other hand as his finger continued to slowly push in and out of that tight
hole.
“Gonna make you feel so good, Sammy. Nice and wet for me, baby brother.” Dean
whispered, his hot breath ghosting over the tight puckered flesh. His tongue
finally darting out to lick around that enticing hole, opening Sam up with his
finger and tongue.
===============================================================================
Sam’s whimpering died down as Dean stroked his back and spoke reassuring words
in his ear. He managed to nod. “Want to feel good,” he agreed, his voice more
breath than sound as he kept rocking back against Dean’s finger.
Then Dean touched him in a spot that made him moan and practically faint. He
turned to look at Dean, eyes wide with questions, he licked his lips,
shuddering when he felt Dean’s tongue join that finger inside him. “Good...
yes... Dean, that... that feels good,” he managed, pushing back, trying to get
more.
It went like that for a while, with Sam’s motions become bolder as he tried to
get more of Dean in him, more of tongue, more of that finger. “Need... oh God,”
shivering, Sam reached for his own cock and started stroking to the rhythm of
Dean’s finger, started making noises, almost demanding, “please ... what you
said... please... need something, need you.”
It Wanted, needed Dean to fall, fall for his brother, fall for his brother's
needs, give in... fall to his own dark and forbidden desires, family be damned,
father be damned, society be damned, future be damned... This moment, the need
to fuck his brother would be so strong, he couldn't fight it, wouldn't... he'd
push his aching cock deep into young Sam's ass and get what he needed, and it
would make sure of it by whipping up his lust, making it reach uncontrollable
heights... no one could resist, certainly no boy just past his teenage years.
"Dean! Please!" Sam plead, almost on the verge of a shout.
===============================================================================
It was so hard not to simply blow his wad like an adolescent teenager getting
their dick touched for the first time. Between the sounds Sam was making, how
tight and hot the younger boy was around his invading tongue and finger, and
the way his brother was eagerly pushing back into his face and hand, Dean was
already so close to coming his dick felt like it was going to explode. But,
damn it, he wasn't going to come like this! The only place he was coming this
time was deep inside his baby brother while Sam whimpered and clenched around
him.
That's why when Sam asked for more, Dean didn't think about going slow or
giving his brother as much time as the virgin boy probably needed to get used
to him. He pulled his finger out of Sam, his tongue thrusting as deep as it
could in its place while he reached down to his own cock. Finally pushing the
sopping wet material down to his thighs, freeing himself. Groaning as he
slicked up his fingers again before returning them to Sam's hole. Pushing two
inside, working them deep and stretching his brother as much as he could in as
short a time as possible.
Dean knew that two fingers probably wasn't enough, but he simply couldn't wait
anymore. He was panting and shaking with need when he finally drew back. The
sight of Sam's wet hole with his fingers shoved so deep inside of him making
him groan again and he had to use his other hand to grip the base of his dick
hard.
"Gonna give you what you need, Sammy. Don't worry." Dean whispered huskily as
he drew his fingers out of Sam's tight body and positioned his cock at his
brother's entrance. He was already so slick from his own fluids he didn't
bother lubing himself up anymore.
"Relax for me, baby brother, and I'll give you what you need." Dean groaned,
grasping Sam's hip to steady the younger boy as he began to push inside of his
brother. Still holding the base of his dick tightly to keep himself from coming
from the feel of that tight ring of muscles slowly opening up for him and
finally, finally, velvet heat surrounding his cock in the most exquisite
pleasure imaginable.
"Oh god, Sammy… oh god…" The older boy muttered under his breath over and over
as he slowly sheathed himself into his brother. He didn't think he could have
stopped now even if he wanted to.
===============================================================================
“Mmmph... Dean...” Sam almost collapsed forward, and it was only his brother’s
tight grip that held him in place. So hot, so hard... finally inside him,
finally so deep that Dean would never want to leave leave him... would die for
him... would leave everyone and everything else behind for another taste of
this, and another.
Shivering around the cock splitting him in two, Sam squeezed, throwing his head
back at the burn. “So big Dean... I can feel you all the way... oh God...” he
took a couple of loud breaths. “Hurts... hurts so good Dean, please do
something... oh God, I don’t know what to do... please,” he turned his head to
the side, biting into Dean’s shoulder as he started to move against him,
banging his ass against Dean’s hips, needing him to grind... to fuck.
Come one... fuck. Fuck... Wild with hunger and desire, Sam writhed
uncontrollably, demanding everything Dean could give him, demanding it now.
===============================================================================
Sammy was already so damned tight he knew he should have been afraid he was
really hurting the younger boy, and a part of him was, but at the same time he
simply couldn’t think beyond the exquisite forbidden pleasure he was
experiencing. So damned hot. So damned tight. So damned perfect. An almost
pained moan was ripped from his throat when he felt Sam’s body tighten around
him even more. Fuck, he knew it would be good, but he never imagined…
“Fuck Sammy…” Dean whispered, his fingers flexing on the younger boy’s hips. He
needed to move so damned badly, needed to draw out and plunge even deeper into
his brother’s tight willing body, riding the younger boy till they were both
screaming out in pleasure. But he felt frozen in place, almost paralyzed. He
needed this so damned badly but he couldn’t hurt Sam. He couldn’t…
When his brother whimpered beneath him that it hurt, Dean’s heart froze for an
instant only to beat triple time when Sam said it was good. Begging him to do
something. Grinding his hips back against him and Dean was lost. He started to
move, drawing out and pushing into Sam with as slow shallow thrusts as he could
manage. Holding Sam’s hips tightly as he angled his hips to drag his cock
across that special place inside his brother over and over. Trying to loosen
Sam up, trying to make it good, trying not to hurt Sam.
He couldn’t hurt Sam, he would never hurt Sam, he’d made it good.
But desire was rushing through his veins like hot acid, burning away everything
else, every other thought, every other need, and all he wanted and needed was
this. He started drawing out further, thrusting in deeper, faster. He couldn’t
stop. He needed this so much. He needed to fuck Sam, fill his little brother up
till his come was dripping out of the younger boy’s ass, and he wanted his
brother to love every minute of it.
“Oh god, Sam. So good. Fuck… yeah… Sammy…” Dean grunted. The sound of hot skin
slapping together and the table scraping across the floor a little with every
one of his thrusts was so fucking hot. Dean rolled his hips, releasing Sam’s
hip to reach around and take his brother’s cock in hand, stroking the younger
boy in time with his deep thrusts. “Oh yeah… come on, Sammy… so good…”
===============================================================================
“Ungh… Ungh…” Sam’s head jerked back each time Dean pounded into him with wild
abandon, like he’d dreamed of it a thousand times and was finally allowed at to
touch… to have the forbidden candy, like nothing mattered as much as easing the
desire that burned, consumed him for so long. “Yes… please more, Dean… please…”
he pleaded, fucking back against his brother’s hips, taking him inside his
body, giving out cries of both pleasure and pain. So good, so good, Dean’s
pain, Dean’s desire, Dean’s love, Dean’s need… all of it.
Once Dean’s fingers closed around his cock, Sam leaned back a little, as far as
he could, one hand still on the table, the other grabbing for Dean. Trying to
touch him, to encourage him, to enflame him beyond a human’s capacity, to make
him like a wild animal, riding on instinct, unable to think beyond the one
single need. “Ungh… ungh… Dean,” Sam’s teeth rattled at the pressure with which
his brother was coming at him, merciless, driven, needy. Yes, oh yes, give it
to me Dean Winchester, everything you have… give it to me… give it to your
bother.
Sam’s hand slipped over Dean’s, as they pumped his cock together. He turned his
face to the side, “need more Dean. Don’t hold back, please… need… ache… want…
make me come… make me, Dean. Deaaan!!!”
===============================================================================
The sounds his little brother was making every time Dean pounded into him went
straight to his cock, making him even harder, if that was even possible, making
him burn even hotter. As hot as the fires of hell surely for wanting this,
needing it so damned badly, and finally taking it…
“Sammy… Sammy…” Dean panted the younger boy’s name like a desperate prayer over
and over. Giving Sam what he wanted. More. Everything. Everything he was. It
was all Sam’s. His body belonged to Sam. His soul belonged to Sam. His life…
everything…
Dean’s hand on Sam’s hip slid up to his chest, resting over the younger boy’s
pounding heart, holding his brother against him. His lips captured Sam’s when
his brother turned his face towards him. Swallowing those sweet needy cries,
his own becoming lost in his brother’s mouth. His thrusts into the younger
boy’s body practically lifted Sam off of his feet and it was a miracle they
were able to remain upright. When Sam begged for even more his fingers
tightened around his brother’s hard weeping flesh, stroking the younger boy
harder, faster.
So close… so close…
His little brother practically screaming his name, in pain or pleasure Dean
wasn’t even sure anymore, was enough to push the older boy over the point of no
return. Every muscle in his body clenched and bucked and he nearly bit off his
own tongue biting off the scream that erupted from his throat as he came. His
balls emptying everything they had into his brother’s sweet clenching hole. His
vision going completely white, leaving him breathless, weak, and shaking. If
someone could actually go insane with pleasure he thought he might right now.
It was the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced and through every intense
spasm he continued to whisper his brother’s name over and over.
“Sammy…”
===============================================================================
Each cry of 'Sam' brought Sam closer to release as he echoed with Dean's name
on his lips, fucking Dean's fist, moving erratically, needing it... this. Then
just as Dean came deep inside him, Sam fell apart in his arms, ropes of come
coating Dean's fist, dripping onto the table.
He fed and fed on Dean's emotions, on his lust, on the intensity of his need
and his glorious release. Dean's life essence pumped into him, so delicious, so
beautiful, he would be sad when all that was left was Dean's dying husk.
Sam whimpered, reaching back, touching any part of Dean he could reach. His
breaths came in gasps. "We did it... did it Dean... was good. Hurts.. and
tired... but good." He licked his lips, laying flat on the table with Dean's
weight on him, still panting. "Don't want to move, ever." Over his shoulder, he
petted Dean's short spikey hair, wriggling a little under him. "Dean?" He
paused, "Does this mean you're mine now?"
*
Sam woke to an empty bed. He'd dreamed he heard Dean calling him over and over
again, but not like he was ordering him around. It was different, and it had
Sam all hot and hard, and thinking about that damned kiss. Was he ever going to
be able to forget it? The more he told himself to put it out of his mind, the
more it refused to go. It found him when he was in the bathroom alone, or when
he was daydreaming, or now... when he was dreaming dreaming, dammit.
Stretching, he licked his lips. Then he did hear his name for real, and pulled
himself out of the bed. Padding out of the bedroom and out the hall, he saw
Dean with his shorts at his feet, laying naked bent onto the dining room table,
like he couldn't take another step. "Dean?!"
He rushed to him, putting his hand on his brother's forehead, thinking Dean had
been so hot he'd tried to strip, and then had fallen and couldn't get the
energy to get up off the table. "Talk to me, Dean?" There was only a slight
temperature, but unsure, Sam leaned in and touched his mouth to Dean's
forehead.
===============================================================================
Dean's arms gave out with whatever was left of his strength and he collapsed
heavily on Sam's sweaty bare back. His cock still pulsing, buried deep inside
the younger boy, and it felt like his life was draining out of him rather than
just his seed. That sent warning bells off in the back of his mind but they
were faint at best. He simply couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus, on anything
but Sam. He simply didn't... care.
Good... yes, so good... he didn't want to move, he just wanted to stay like
this, with Sam, forever...
He felt the soft fingers in his hair, heard his the younger boy's sweet
question, and smiled weakly against the back of his brother's neck. Yes... he
was Sam's... he'd always been Sam's...
Then... he must have blacked out for a few moments or something because
everything was different. His front was cold where he rested against the bare
wood of the table instead of the warm skin of his brother's back. His whole
body felt cold in fact which seemed... odd... considering how hot it had been
these last several days. He definitely noticed he wasn't buried snugly inside
the younger boy's tight warm body anymore.
Sam... where?
He thought he heard Sam's voice behind him. Calling his name. Dean tried to
shift his weight, to push off of the table, but his body simply refused to
move. He felt so fucking tired. So weak... and so damned cold... He thought he
felt Sam's fingers brush gently over his forehead, followed not long after by
his brother's sweet lips. Dean managed a small smile as he tried to drag open
his eyes. It was almost more effort than it was worth, and even once he'd
gotten them open they kept trying to close again. He was so fucking tired...
But Sam had asked him...
"Always... yours..." He managed in a small whisper, barely above a breath, but
Sam didn't look pleased by his answer. He looked... scared. Why was Sam scared?
Dean tried again to push himself up from the table, trying to figure out what
had scared his brother, it was his job to protect Sam after all. But his arms
simply wouldn't support his weight, and neither would his legs for that matter.
He felt his knees buckling and gravity pulling him down and he simply didn't
have the strength to fight it.
===============================================================================
"Dean!" Sam leaned in more, grabbing his brother's waist more tightly, suddenly
not giving a shit that Dean was bare assed. Gritting his teeth, he summoned up
all of his strength to keep Dean from hitting the ground. "Come on... Dean,
just a couple steps," he said, slowly half carrying half dragging his brother
toward the bedroom. He'd been fine... he'd been getting better, and that's why
Sam had let himself sleep. If he'd known... Guilt washed over him, and worsened
as he looked at Dean's pale features, watching him struggle to even give him
the little assistance he was by putting one foot in front of the other.
It seemed like it took forever, but he got to the bed and dropped Dean down,
unsuccessfully trying to break or slow down his fall. "You alright, Dean ...
sorry! I'm sorry, Dean?" His brother's eyes were open and he was nodding, but
Sam was as scared as he'd been when he'd called the ambulance yesterday. "I'm
gonna make em fix you," he promised, getting Dean tucked into the bed,
wondering if he'd been hot or why he was undressed like this. He didn't pull
the blankets up, just the sheets, and then he had Dean drink a little water.
Walking across to the other side of the room with the cell phone in hand, he
dialed his dad. Course no one answered... why the hell should that surprise
him. He couldn't think straight enough to compose a message so he just hung up
and walked back.
Leaning over Dean, he looked him in the eyes and pushed even the short hair on
his forehead back, trying to see if he had a temperature and finding none.
"What were you doing up? Why didn't you wake me if you needed something?
Dean... you're really sick, and I'm not exaggerating." He took a deep breath.
"I called dad, but he's not picking up ... I don't know what to do. I'm
thinking call the ambulance again."
===============================================================================
Walking was definitely a skill that most people took for granted, Dean decided
as Sam practically had to drag him down the hall back to the bedroom. He wasn’t
even really sure how the younger boy managed it. Though Sam was gaining on him
in height, his brother didn’t have the muscle mass that Dean had. He could feel
the younger boy straining to keep him from hitting the ground and it was
probably a testament to Sam’s stubborn will that the younger boy managed to get
him back to the bed at least before letting him drop.
Unfortunately without Sam’s support, Dean’s body completely refused to
cooperate and he hit the bed like a stone. Grunting a little when he landed but
at least it was a soft surface rather than the floor, and at least Sam hand
managed to get him turned around so he landed on his back instead of face
planting.
Dean blinked blearily up at the younger boy as Sam apologized to him. He wasn’t
even sure why his brother was apologizing. Was he all right? Dean managed a
small nod, even though they both knew it was a bald faced lie. He was about as
far from all right as he could get without losing a limb or having a gaping
wound in his chest, or something.
At least some of the fog in Dean’s brain was beginning to clear. Not much, but
a little. It was probably Sam’s fear that was helping with that. If Dean had
been by himself, he probably would have simply let himself fall unconscious on
the floor of the kitchen and not gave a damned. But Sam needed him, and he
would never leave his brother alone, so Dean forced himself to stay awake.
Forced the rusty wheels in his head to start turning again, trying to figure
out what had happened to him.
At first all he could think about as he stared at his brother across the room
was the beautiful younger boy naked and crying out in pleasure, begging for
him, as Dean fucked him across the dining room table. Maybe Dean had just tired
himself out? Pushed himself too hard making love to his brother? That’s why Sam
looked so worried, even guilty? Because he thought it was his fault Dean was
sick again?
Dean tried to give the younger boy a soft, reassuring smile when his brother
came back over to him. Touching his hair, and Dean couldn’t help but close his
eyes and sigh a little at the feeling of Sam touching him. It felt so good… it
wasn’t Sam’s fault. He would be fine, soon he wouldn’t be sick anymore, and he
could make love to Sam even better… But then his brother was asking him what
he’d been doing? Dean opened his eyes again, confusion and exhaustion swimming
in them, fighting for control.
Then the fog cleared a little bit more… of course Sam didn’t know what he’d
been doing… because it wasn’t Sam. It looked like Sam, felt like Sam, Dean had
wanted it to be Sam… but it wasn’t. It was… an incubus… and Dean had fallen
under its spell again. That’s why he felt so bad now. So sick… the fucker had
probably drained him nearly dry…
God damn it…
When Sam mentioned calling the ambulance again, Dean finally managed to move.
Reaching out to grasp his brother’s wrist, to stop Sam from leaving and he
shook his head, struggling to speak.
“Don’t… don’t go…” He finally managed. He wasn’t going to be able to stay
conscious for much longer. But he had to tell Sam. It wouldn’t come as long as
Sam was watching him. That would break the illusion. “Don’t… let me… go…”
===============================================================================
"I"m not going anywhere Dean," Sam answered, growing even more worried when
Dean followed by asking that Sam not let him go. What did that mean? Like he
was gonna die or something? No, no way, no way Dean was gonna slip into death
like that. He looked down at his wrist, gauging the desperation in his
brother's voice and close to being freaked out by it. "I won't move, I swear.
Scoot over," he said, waiting until Dean released him.
He grabbed the remote, and brought the lap top over, then got on the bed. The
fact that he had to help push Dean, that his brother was unable to muster up
the energy to scoot over had him worrying all over again. It was weird... no it
was wrong, everything was turned around. For years and years, it had been Sam
sick in bed with the flu or whatever, and Dean hovering over him. But that
wasn't all. Dean was an awful patient and while he might hover, he hated being
hovered over like this. "I shouldn't have slept. I'll do better, Dean," he
promised, taking his brother's limp hand and giving it a squeeze.
As his brother's eyes closed, Sam told himself he would call dad again later.
This was much bigger than either of them thought, and covering up a car
accident was not a good reason not to get his dad's help now when he was sure,
despite what the doctors said, that his brother's life was in danger.
For a while, he stared at the blank t.v., musing over everything that had
happened. The thing that had started this whole snowball rolling, their
argument and Dean hitting him, before he left in a rage and got into an
accident, all of that was mostly forgotten. The thing that Sam remembered best
and that was at the forefront of his mind was how Dean had held him at the bus
stop, and how he thought they had found their way back. Then there was that
other thing, the one he tried not to remember, not to think about. The strange
feelings Dean had stirred up in him when they were in bed and Dean had given
him that feverish kiss.
Checking on his brother, seeing he was completely asleep, he reached for the
lap top. The last thing he wanted was for the t.v. to wake him. At first, he
fooled around, not doing any real research. Then he remembered he'd found a
good site where you could post medical questions and get a response. Well he'd
posted one, but now he found that he hadn't bookmarked the site as a 'favorite
place.' Frowning, he went to look at his 'history' of sites he'd visited and
started seeing some older searches that he hadn't made. Dean?
He started clicking on send, looking at the results, scrolling down. What was
his brother looking for? He kept going and a word kept coming up. Incubus. He'd
heard of Sucubus, but.... hmmm. He started his own searches, mostly thinking
that maybe it was something Dean had hunted in the past. But once he started
reading the mythos behind it, his heart started hammering into his chest.
He looked over at his brother. Yes, he was exhausted and pale, like something
was draining him of life. No, there was no real reason for him to be this sick.
Sure he'd been in an accident but these symptoms had nothing to do with
concussion or bodily injuries. Yeah, he was acting weird, and there were dips
in his condition. Each time he was left alone, he was just a little worse. Was
an incubus attacking his brother?
Shit... Sam wanted to reject that idea, it just made him all sort of
uncomfortable. He researched some more, getting tenser and more uptight by the
minute. All the hard ons, the lack of clothes when he'd been on the diningroom
table, the feverish kissing in bed... Yeah, he was pretty sure it was an
incubus.
Dad... he needed dad now, only Dean could be dead by the time their dad made it
back from wherever. Sam would have to handle this. Dean had given him a clue,
told him not to leave him alone. Okay, he could do that. But he needed to find
out how to kill an incubus. There was plenty of information on what an incubus
is, but the solutions were rarer or unbelievable. Suddenly, Dean's request that
Sam not let him go made sense and scared the hell out of him. Hunching over, he
concentrated harder, determine that he would not give his brother up to any
thing.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon

 He had no idea how long he slept. But despite the fact that he was dead to the
world, Dean's sleep was not peaceful.

 He wanted… he needed…
  Hot skin beneath him. Flushed with arousal. Sweat glistening…
 Dean moaned softly in his sleep. His own skin feeling flushed with heat.
Remembering how hot he'd been pressed against a lithe strong back. How slick
their skin had been, moving together. The taste of salt and desire on his
tongue when he licked wetly at the glistening flesh.
  Soft moans gradually increasing with volume. Desperation. Little desperate
pants and grunts every time they moved. Some sounds of pain, little moans of
discomfort, understandable when it was the first time. But the sweet whines and
moans of pleasure his name whispered in such need over and over, more than made
up for that discomfort.
 He wanted to hear his brother make those sounds again. He wanted it to be all
he heard. He wanted to make Sam scream his name in ecstasy as he took him again
and again. Taking, and giving, them both what they wanted.
  So fucking tight. The velvety slick channel around his cock, inner muscles
practically strangling his dick at first they were so tight. Reluctant to
loosen for him, to open for the foreign invasion, but finally relenting.
Relaxing. Allowing him into the forbidden. Flesh of his flesh. Blood of his
blood. They were meant to fit together like this. It was perfect. He angled his
hips just right as he fucked into Sam hard, bringing forth such sweet sounds of
pleasure when his dick rubbed over the younger boy's prostate over and over.
The first to ever touch his brother like this. The only… Sam was his…
 He wanted that again. needed that again. To feel Sam beneath him. To feel
himself inside his brother. To fuck his brother. To taste his lips. To taste
his skin. To taste his cock. His come. To fill the younger boy up with his seed
until it dripped out of his perfect little ass. He needed it. He ached for it.
It hurt so much.
 "Sammy…" Dean moaned, nearly in agony, forcing his eyes open. He couldn't
think beyond the cloud of lust and pain obscuring all of his thoughts. Nothing
else mattered. Nothing except trying to find what he wanted. What he needed.
Sam… Why wasn't Sam giving him what he needed?
===============================================================================
Stunned by his discovery and trying hard to find a solutions, at first, Sam
only glanced over at Dean when he started to make sounds in his sleep,
confirmed he looked fine, and went back to pounding on the keyboard. He wasn't
gonna let his brother's life be drained away, no fucking way. He needed his
older brother, always had, always would. All his life, Dean had taken care of
him, been at the center of everything, the only stable thing in his life. If he
had a problem, Dean would solve it, even if he flicked him off first or made
him jump through hoops, that's what brothers were for. That's what family was
about, Dean taught him that, if not with words, with actions. Sure, they didn't
have an ideal family, but he never, not once, doubted his brother's love.
His heart constricted. Yeah, there were times when he'd wondered what was going
through Dean's mind. He'd never thought it was hate, but Dean had definitely
been pushing him away. That was before they made up on that bus stop bench,
when Dean stopped him from leaving. Having no idea what he could have done to
earn that, to suddenly have Dean walking away from him, or shove him off, or
cut him off when he tried to talk, he'd put it down to his brother being tired
of taking care of him. That was something he could understand, but he'd never
though hate... he'd always known underlying any emotion Dean showed him, there
was love.
Dean probably loved him more than dad. They'd been the center of each others'
worlds, but while Sam had had to depend on Dean, Dean had given his time, his
efforts, himself not because he had to, because he wanted to.
He clicked the mouse button, jumping into the next page. More about Incubi, how
they both drained sexual and emotional energy, and stimulated it. How they
lured their victims, became more and more irresistible to them. How they chose
to appear in a form that would most appeal to the victims... the victim's
deepest desire, be it a real person, or an 'ideal' they had in their mind. "But
how do you kill it... how?" he muttered when Dean started to thrash.
Sam put the lap top aside and leaned over his brother who was moaning, saying
his name. Sam's breath hitched, his pulse started to race as he was reminded of
the kisses Dean had given him in bed. This is what Dean had sounded like, and
he'd been flushed just like this. No, he needed to stop thinking about that,
and just think on how he could help Dean.
Sliding his palm over the warm flesh of Dean's cheek, he pushed his hand under
Dean's head, lifting him slightly. "Right here, Dean. What do you need?" he
asked, noticing how unfocused his brother's eyes were. He leaned closer, to
hear him. "Dean?"
===============================================================================
The light tender caress to his cheek practically burned, and Dean moaned again.
Wanting more, needing more, he needed Sam. So much… Dean turned his face into
his brother’s palm out of instinct, seeking more, more of his brother’s touch.
It wasn’t enough. He needed more. Didn’t Sam understand that? He needed more…
Somehow, with great difficulty, he managed to almost focus on Sam’s face
hovering over his. Sam… Sammy… his sweet innocent little brother… Sam looked so
concerned. Worried… about him… afraid…
“Sammy…” Dean whispered. He wanted to reassure his brother, but all he could
manage was the younger boy’s name. He wanted to tell Sam there wasn’t any
reason to be afraid. It was just them. Just like it should be.
He lifted his hand, even though it felt weighed down by lead, and placed it on
his brother’s cheek. Caressing Sam’s face tenderly. The way Sam had caressed
him. His fingers sliding back through the soft silky strands of his brother’s
hair. Cupping the back of his neck. God, he felt like he was burning, and that
light touch was soothing water.
“Need you…” Dean practically growled in need. Snaking his other arm around his
brother’s waist and pulling Sam down on top of him. Moaning at the weight of
the younger boy’s body covering his own, too much separating them of course,
but he would fix that soon. With a moan he pulled on the back of his brother’s
neck and rose up to kiss Sam hard, devouring his brother’s mouth without
restraint.
===============================================================================
At first, Sam thought Dean was awake, especially when he’d put his hand on
Sam’s cheek. “Need what?” Sam asked as soon as Dean spoke, “what do you need?”
One moment he was looking down at his brother with concern, and the next Dean
pulled him down over him. His brother’s groan had Sam worrying that he’d hurt
him, he wasn’t a small kid. Just as he started to try to pull his weight of,
Dean moved again, this time cupping his neck, pulling him down and welding
their mouths together.
The breath was knocked out of Sam at first. Surprised, he did nothing... said
nothing as Dean pushed his tongue inside his mouth. Then it was just like that
other time when Dean had been feverish and had kissed him. Strong, unfamiliar
sensations traveled through Sam’s body.
“De... don’t...” His brother tangled their tongues together and worked his
mouth over his in a rhythm that had Sam’s head swimming, and his entire body
tense and paying attention. It took him a minute to realize the sound he’d
heard had come from him, much like the sounds he made when he jacked off, only
louder. Dean was getting him hard, making him want to kiss back, to move
against him.
Sam tentatively moved his tongue, sweeping it along Dean’s, and suddenly he was
swept up in a new wave of heat. Groaning, he kissed Dean, learning the motions
of tongue and mouth. It was only when he involuntarily ground his hips that
guilt and shame washed through him. Dean wasn’t even really conscious and here
he was taking advantage of it... what the hell.
Almost panicked, he ripped himself out of Dean’s arms. “Stop... Dean, you’re
dreaming,” he said, pushing Dean’s arms back down, putting them under the
blankets. “Sleep alright, I’m gonna stop this, I swear, I’ll help you,” he
promised.
Scooting away, he worked again on the lap top, but his mouth burned, and his
body felt strange, like there was unfinished business. His heart hurt, because
he knew, what he’d just experienced would never happen again, and that nothing
could compare... nothing.
===============================================================================
Dean moaned in pleasure into his little brother’s sweet mouth as their tongues
tangled together. The younger boy unresponsive at first, confusing him, but he
finally felt those gentle tentative touches and Dean groaned louder in
encouragement and pleasure. Sam kissed him like his brother had never kissed
anyone before, all enthusiasm and little skill, and it was really turning him
on. When Sam pretended to be coy like this… it was so sweet and hot at the same
time…
Dean wasted no time “showing him what to do”, licking inside of his brother’s
mouth, tracing his gums and teeth, stroking and sucking on his tongue. His
fingers petting and stroking through Sam’s hair and down his back, rocking his
hips up to meet Sam’s when his little brother began pushing down against him.
Letting Sam feel how hard he was making him, feeling Sam growing hard in
return, perfect…
But then Sam was breaking their kiss, pushing him away, telling him… to stop?
Sleep? No, he didn’t need sleep. He needed Sam. The absence of the younger boy
in his arms was like a cold black void, and he needed his brother. He needed
Sam warm and moaning beneath him in pleasure. He needed it.
“Sammy, please…” Dean moaned, forcing his arms underneath him, pushing himself
up even though his body practically refused to move. The burning need inside of
him, knowing that only Sam could ease it, was enough of an incentive to make
him try.
He managed to follow Sam, scooting over the couple of feet that put his brother
back in his reach, and he threw his arms around the younger boy. Burying his
face into Sam’s neck, mouthing and sucking on the soft skin, while his hands
roamed wherever they could reach. Sliding over Sam’s chest and back, and
finally worming their way underneath his brother’s shirt to caress warm perfect
skin.
“Need you Sammy, please…” Dean begged again, licking up Sam’s neck to nibble on
the skin just beneath his ear. One of his hands started working its way under
the waistband of his brother’s boxers. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll suck
your cock. I’ll lick you open. I’ll fuck you. You can fuck me. Anything…”
===============================================================================
Dean moved so damned quick again, Sam didn’t see it coming. One moment he was
innocently trying to forget the burning kiss as he worked on finding a
solution, and the next, Dean was clinging to him, surrounding him. It was way
too hot and humid to be touching, but the way Dean touched him, he wasn’t
thinking of that kind of heat, but a whole nuther type.
He felt Dean’s mouth on his throat, the wetness from his tongue, and then Dean
was sucking on his skin. Goose bumps rose on his flesh, his stomach clenching
in wonder as Dean’s hand skimmed over his abs. “Dean... can’t...” Despite his
words, he just sat there, his heart beating hard against his chest as he tried
to analyze all the sensations assaulting his senses. He’d never realized how
good Dean smelled, how thick his voice could get, or that when he spoke at a
particular octave, it was as if it made his entire body hum.
He let out a heated breath, wondering if this is what all the girls Dean took
out felt. No wonder they fell all over him. His mouth was magic, his touch...
it just made him want to stay there, like that, made him want to ask for
another kiss. Wanted to so bad, but he knew it was wrong.
Then Dean was begging him, telling him he ‘needed’ him. The words, the way he
said them had Sam more hot and bothered than he’d ever been in his life. “No...
don’t say that,” he whispered breathlessly, knowing he’d think about it for
days, or weeks, knowing he’d jack off to it, even if he shouldn’t. “Dean you
should...”
He’d just started to push Dean again, when Dean’s hand wrapped around his dick
and the words stuck in Sam’s throat. Before he could even react, Dean was
making suggestions, dirty filthy suggestions, things Sam had never thought
about before, not really, not with a guy.
Images of Dean’s mouth on his dick flashed through his mind, and being
fucked... he meant in the... Dean meant. His heart tumbled, and he pushed Dean
away hard. He didn’t know if it was fear, though it should be disgust, it
should be. “No Dean, stop this... it’s not you.”
No matter what he did though, Dean insisted on touching him. Once he got Dean’s
hand out of his shorts, Dean was leaning in, kissing him, making suggestions in
his ear. The begging was what broke Sam’s heart. What had this incubus done to
his brother.
After trying to fend Dean off, and being hampered by his own body’s reaction,
he managed to get off the bed. Dean was trying to scramble after him, and was
only his weakness that prevented him.
A few minutes later, Sam returned, walking around to the other side of the bed.
The minute Dean rolled closer, Sam cuffed him, just one hand, to the handle of
the drawer of the nightstand. “Dean, calm down, Dean!” He peeled himself away
from his brother’s other hand. “Its and incubus that’s doing this, do you know
how to fight it? DEAN, help me! Do you know what I need to do? HELP ME.”
===============================================================================
Dean wasn’t prepared when Sam shoved him away. It felt like a knife in his
heart. Why was Sam shoving him away? Why wasn’t his brother giving him what he
needed? He said that he would do anything Sam wanted. Anything… and instead Sam
was pushing him away.
“Sam, please… Please!” Dean begged, trying to touch Sam again. Trying to make
Sam feel good, trying to ease the burning need inside of himself. It hurt so
much. He needed Sam so much. “I need you, Sammy please…”
But Sam pushed him away. Again. And this time his brother got off the bed and
left the room. Sam was leaving him. Like he’d promised not to… he’d promised…
“Sammy!” He cried out after the younger boy, trying to get up off the bed,
follow Sam, but he could barely move. His efforts only making him almost fall
out of the bed, and he sobbed in agony. “Need you… please, Sammy, please…”
When Sam returned, Dean felt close to tears as he reached out to the younger
boy, but his brother gave the bed a wide berth and Dean had to try to struggle
weakly to the other side. Reaching out to Sam again, only to find himself
suddenly restrained, and he looked down at his cuffed wrist as though it didn’t
belong to him.
Dean turned wide wounded eyes back to his brother. He didn’t understand what
Sam was asking him. He couldn’t think beyond simply needing Sam.
“I don’t know…” He whispered, his eyes pleading, before another wave of pain
swept through him and he curled in on himself with a moan. His skin felt like
it was on fire. His cock was so hard it could pound nails, and it hurt so
fucking much. He’d never felt a pain like this before, he was shaking with it.
His head felt like it was being split in two. He wasn’t surprised at all when
he felt the coppery wetness dripping from his nose. “Hurts… oh fuck… Sammy it
hurts…”
===============================================================================
Struggling with Dean, pushing him away, then listening to him plead, and beg...
it was the hardest thing Sam had every done. He could see Dean didn’t
understand him, that Dean was somewhere else inside his head.
“Please, please tell me how to make it better,” Sam pleaded, his heart
constricting. Then Dean was moaning, in pain, and it wasn’t funny, wasn’t
embarrassing, it just plain had Sam in a panic, seeing Dean bleeding again and
telling him it hurt.
He looked at the lap top that had slid to the floor, then at his brother,
shaking like a leaf. He knew he had to find a cure, but how could he leave Dean
to this? How the fuck was he supposed to do that.
His gaze dropped to Dean’s groin, and he just knew that whatever Dean was
feeling, it wasn’t just blue balls, it was extreme. He started to shake like a
leaf too, just looking down, frozen... undecided. This wasn’t what his brother
needed, this wasn’t how Dean would react if their positions were in reverse.
Dean would do something, he’d save him, help him.
Sam dropped down onto the bed, moving Dean so he was flat on his back. He lay
on top of him, kissed, him, ignoring the taste of blood. “I’m right here, Dean.
Kiss you alright? This what you need?” He felt Dean buck under him, felt his
free hand move to his back.
Tentatively, he moved against Dean, so afraid... so unsure about what he was
doing, but so damned scared not to do anything. “Don’t hurt Dean, I’m right
here... I’m right here.” Tears started to stream from his eyes. “Tell me what I
have to do to beat this thing, please tell me... God Dean, I need help, please
tell me.”
===============================================================================
Dean was so close to simply ripping off his own skin, just to make the burning
stop, when Sam was finally there. His brother’s touch making him whimper as the
younger boy shoved him onto his back. Sam’s touch was like a balm and he
practically sobbed into his brother’s mouth when the younger boy’s lips covered
his own.
He kissed Sam back desperately. His free arm slid around the younger boy’s slim
waist to clutch his brother tighter to him, bucking up against Sam. Hating that
there were so many layers of cloth separating their bodies, but he would take
whatever he could get at this point. A low agonizing groan was ripped from his
throat when Sam finally began to move against him.
Dean honestly wasn’t sure how he was able to think beyond the painful need
gripping him, but his brother’s voice shaking with fear reached him at a soul
deep level. He forced his eyes open and seeing the younger boy’s tear streaked
face was like a punch to the gut.
Sam needed him. Needed him to tell him what to do, but Dean felt just as lost
as his little brother. Was this enough? He didn’t know. The fact that he could
think at all, maybe that meant it was helping, a little. But it wasn’t enough.
“Not enough…” He groaned, embarrassment forgotten, shame forgotten, as all he
could think about was easing the unbearable need inside of him.
His hand slid down Sam’s back, tugging at the hem of his shirt and hiking it up
to his armpits. The touch of Sam’s bare skin against his had him moaning again,
but this time not in pain. Somehow he managed to free himself from his shorts
even though he couldn’t stop bucking and rocking his hips up against his
brother. Rubbing his aching dick against the bare skin of Sam’s thigh had him
gasping and shuddering, his fingers clutching at Sam’s ass as pleasure began to
replace the fiery pain burning through his veins.
“It’s good… Sammy… better…” He panted, kissing Sam’s cheek. Licking away his
little brother’s tears back to the younger boy’s lips. His breath hitching as
he brushed his lips over his brother’s mouth. “I’m sorry… so sorry, Sam…”
===============================================================================
Sam gasped as Dean dragged his shirt up his body, almost got it off him.
Deciding he could lose it, Sam tugged it the rest of the way off. He told
himself he could handle this, would handle it, but when he looked down, Dean
had somehow gotten his shorts off and was practically naked under him.
 
Heat stained his cheeks. Before he could say a thing, Dean had grabbed him by
the ass and was pulling him down as he thrust up against him. His mind and body
were suddenly focused on the feel of Dean's naked cock rubbing against him,
grinding into his thigh. His breaths started coming a lot faster, he felt
Dean's mouth over his face, over his own mouth, light as a feather, apologies
tumbling from his brother's lips.
 
"No, it's okay Dean. Want to help, just don't... not under my... leave them
on," he whispered against Dean's ear, as he started to move a little harder
against his brother. At first it had been just to help Dean, but need was
building up inside him. "Dean... God... Dean..." his breaths puffed out between
his lips.
 
Afraid of his own feelings, his own reactions, Sam buried his face in Dean's
throat and tried to hide from them. He was breathing hard and out loud, and so
fucking embarrassed. "Still good, Dean... helping," he asked, afraid, so
worried he was doing this for himself. "Want you to get better, please Dean,
get better." He didn't know how it happened, but he slid his mouth over Dean's
and just... just opened for his brother.
 
Then they were kissing, and he could hear and feel Dean pull against the cuffs
holding one of his arms, heard his frustrated attempts to free himself. "Sorry
Dean, had to ...." He lifted his head up, felt his brother's iron grip as if
Dean was afraid he'd roll off. He bit his lower lip as his cock, trapped
between their bodies, got impossibly harder. "Anh... oh God... Dean... Dean
I..." Just that quick, he came in his shorts, tears blurring his eyes as shame
washed over him.
===============================================================================
Dean swallowed hard and nodded to his brother’s instructions. If Sam didn’t
want Dean to touch him under his shorts, he wouldn’t. He would do whatever Sam
wanted. He would gladly take whatever his brother offered him.
He threw his head back and groaned, bucking up beneath the younger boy’s body
and probably would have unseated Sam if he wasn’t also clinging to his brother
so tightly. Just feeling Sam, hard, digging into his stomach, even with the
thin layer of cloth separating them was heaven.
“Yeah… its good… helping…” Dean whispered in reply. He was so close already. He
knew when he came the pain would go away. Somehow he just knew it. He just… had
to get there… He needed Sam to get him there.
Dean moaned into his brother’s mouth when Sam’s lips covered his own again, and
he thrust his tongue past the younger boy’s teeth, exploring every inch he
could. Tugging uselessly at the cuffs restraining him, frustrated he couldn’t
hold Sam even tighter to him, couldn’t touch his brother with both hands, but
this was enough. Right now this was enough.
When Sam broke their kiss, Dean was left panting, trembling, looking up at the
younger boy as though he was everything. His heart and soul and more. Watching
Sam come undone as though it was the first time, feeling the hot wetness
spreading through Sam’s shorts as his brother came, feeling the younger boy
trembling against him, pushed Dean over the edge as well.
He bucked beneath Sam so hard he wasn’t sure how he didn’t throw his brother
off of him, practically screaming Sam’s name as he came. Shuddering so hard
beneath the younger boy he felt like he was having a seizure.
“Sam… oh god… Sammy…” He moaned like he was in agony, and a part of him was,
until the last shudder racked his body and he collapsed spent and completely
boneless beneath the younger boy. Gasping and wheezing and feeling completely
drained in mind and body.
===============================================================================
The tremors of pleasure ripping through Sam were just starting to ease when
Dean suddenly bucked his hips so high that Sam almost fell off to the ground.
Hearing his brother scream, his heart clenched at first in fear for Dean,
then... then something else ... a realization that it wasn't pain, it was that
same need he'd been gripped with seconds ago.
Then Dean stopped moving, stopped crying out, like his pain was gone... like he
was alright again. "D... Dean, it's okay now..." he breathed against his
brother's ear, then lifted his head. His hands on Dean's shoulders were
trembling, his legs still felt weak. "Gonna be okay," he nodded, answering for
his brother.
He kissed Dean's cheek, then felt himself flush, and stammered an apology,
which after all that just happened was really, really stupid. He crawled off
Dean and bringing the bowl of water that was still in the room from when Dean
had needed cold compresses for his fever, he came back and cleaned Dean up...
mostly. "Here," he said gently, giving him the wet cloth to let him take care
of his own privates. "I'll... I'll be right back."
True to his word, Sam was back in three minutes, having showered and changed
into new shorts and a tee. A little unsurely, he got on the bed next to his
brother and picked up the lap top. "You know, I was gonna ask for kissing
advice... guess I got it, now." He cleared his throat, not looking at Dean, but
smiling just a little as he recalled the heat that flooded his system at every
touch of Dean's tongue. "We're going to have to talk about this," he nodded
again. "After we get rid off your... your problem. Any ideas, Dean?"
===============================================================================
Sam’s gentle touches and the soft whispers next to his ear were comforting and
only made the older boy relax more. Dean’s thoughts felt like they were
swimming through his head like thick syrup. Moving as slow as molasses in the
winter, but he didn’t care. He only cared that the pain was gone, the need was
gone, sated… for now. It was going to be ok. Ok… he clung to that thought,
those promises. It was going to be ok…
When he felt Sam moving away, Dean moaned softly in complaint and forced his
eyes open. He didn’t want Sam to leave him. He still needed Sam… but his
brother didn’t go far. Just for water and a wash cloth. Dean offered the
younger boy a small shaky smile when his brother started to wipe the sweat off
his face. It felt good, so good…
He let his eyes slide closed again, exhausted, as Sam worked. However when he
felt the rag pressed into his hand and Sam left again, he forced them open
again with a sound of complaint. Why was Sam always leaving him? He didn’t like
it when Sam… disappeared… after they were together. He wanted Sam to always
stay with him. He wanted… Dean frowned up at the ceiling in confusion.
Something wasn’t right… Something… but he didn’t know what.
He and Sam, it was perfect. It was what he always wanted… but it shouldn’t be.
Sam was his brother. His little brother, for god sake! It was bad enough that
he wanted Sam so badly that an incubus had been able to use the younger boy’s
form to… but it wasn’t… it was Sam, really Sam… oh dear god…
Dean paled so much he probably rivaled the sheets he was laying on. Horror at
what he’d done and guilt churning his stomach so badly he thought he might be
sick. Might be? He was sick. A sick fucking bastard that had just molested his
little brother… and Sam had let him… oh god… He should have just let that
fucking incubus kill him, suck him dry, he deserved that and worse, so much
worse.
When Sam returned, Dean couldn’t look at his brother. He simply couldn’t. Sam’s
attempt at a joke to lighten the mood settled like a frozen piece of lead in
his gut. His throat felt so tight with shame he could barely breathe.
Talk… What the hell was there to talk about? Dean was a sick fucking bastard
that deserved to be arrested, or castrated, dead, or all of the above.
===============================================================================

Sam stared at the screen for a while, then looked over at Dean. "Are you mad
because of the cuffs?" He licked his lips and stared at the silent figure next
to him, very aware that Dean wasn't looking at him... was avoiding him to be
precise. He hung his head. "Are you mad because I.... Dean I didn't know what
to do. You were in pain, I thought you were gonna have a coronary."
He thought back on what had happened. Yeah, okay he'd liked the kissing and
some of the other stuff, and probably he shouldn't... but he hadn't initiated
it because of that. Dean had seriously been in danger of ... of going into a
fit or something. At first he'd kept away from him, that's why he'd gotten the
cuffs but it had been obvious to him that Dean was in actual pain. No, he'd had
no other choice, he really hadn't.
Tear sprang in his eyes. "Don't be mad at me for this Dean, just don't. I
didn't know what else to do, and now you won't help me?" His brother held as
still as a statue, and that pissed him off a little. Dragging his gaze away, he
started working on the lap top but forgot what he'd already looked up. Clicking
on the history button, he froze. There was stuff there that he hadn't searched,
but he could tell it was related.
Dean... Dean had been on the lap top at the hospital, he'd known. Turning
sideways to look at him, he leaned down. "You knew... you knew what this was,
an incubus, but you didn't tell me. Dean, do you know how I can stop it? Dean!"
He shook his shoulder, then pulled away. Staring at the screen, he muttered,
"I'm gonna call dad again. He's gotta know something."
===============================================================================
When Sam mentioned the cuffs, Dean’s gaze flickered briefly over to his bound
wrist. Honestly? He’d almost forgotten he was restrained. Looking at the cuffs
now, Dean felt his stomach twist just a bit more, if that was even possible.
Sam had to restrain him… because he hadn’t stopped. Sam had tried to get him to
stop, but he simply wouldn’t. He kept reaching out for Sam. Kept trying to
touch him… kiss him… and Sam had to restrain him. Not that it had mattered in
the end, because he had still… and Sam had let him…
Mad. There was that word again. How could his brother even ask that? How could
Sam possibly think that Dean was mad at him. Dean closed his eyes, feeling so
damned close to sobbing his eyes out like a pathetic little girl. How the hell
could he even think to feel sorry for himself, after what he’d done to Sam?
He wanted to say something. He knew he should say something. But he couldn’t.
Then Sam was switching gears, just like that, his ever quick mind jumping to
conclusions that were normally correct. Accusing him… not that Dean could deny
it. Well, he could, but the lie would fall pathetically obvious from his lips.
Sam was shaking him. Asking him… did he know how to stop it? No, if he’d known
how to stop it he would have done it before he’d raped his little brother…
The younger boy mentioning their father seemed to finally break Dean from his
paralysis and his hand shot out to grasp Sam’s wrist without thinking. Then
realizing what he’d done, he released his brother just as quickly. Oh god, how
could he even think of touching Sam in any way right now?
“Don’t… please…” Dean finally managed to choke out, begging Sam unashamedly. Of
course, once his eyes met his brother’s the tears he’d been fighting against
all this time spilled down his cheeks, his voice shaking and broken as his
shame and guilt overwhelmed him completely. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
===============================================================================
Startled, Sam looked at his wrist. Dean’s grip was surprisingly strong, though
he quickly let him go. Lifting his eyes in question, he licked his lips. “Dad?
But Dean...”
When his brother started to cry and apologize, his gut clenched. “No, no Dean,
it’s alright,” he said, leaning over him, using the heel of his hand to gently
wipe Dean’s tears. “Not your fault. We’re gonna get this thing, okay? You and
me, and then everything... everything is gonna be fine.”
The look, the doubt in Dean’s eyes scared him. “Don’t you give up on us, you
promised,” he reminded his brother. “Out there, at that bus stop, you promised
me.” Again, he licked his lips. “This... this thing that happened, it’s fine
Dean. I’m not traumatized... I’m not.”
Sam realized that’s what his brother was worrying about, even though he knew it
went deeper. He’d realized already it meant that before the incubus, Dean had
seen him a certain way, which made everything that had happened in the last
year make sense. The way Dean pushed him away a lot, even the way he’d gotten
physical, hitting him that night before his accident. “But you’re gonna have to
get better before we can talk about it, and stop... don’t feel bad. I might
have... you know, not minded some of it.” His color rose, and he had a bit of a
smile. “Now help me.”
===============================================================================
This wasn’t right. None of it was right. Forget the fact that he’d just raped
his underage little brother, Sam shouldn’t be the one doing this. He should be
the one taking care of Sam. He should be the one making sure his brother was
ok. He should be the one comforting the younger boy, wiping away his tears…
instead Dean was the one falling apart and Sammy was staring down at him
looking lost and scared as he tried to keep his big brother together.
All right. Fine. He wanted to believe that was true. He wanted to believe, so
very badly, that it was going to be all right… once this was all over… as
though this was just another hunt. But it wasn’t. It would never be all right
again, no matter how much he wanted it to be. Nothing would ever erase what
he’d done to Sam. Nothing would ever make Sam forget. Nothing would ever make
him forget…
Sam decided at that moment to remind him of his promise. But Dean really didn’t
have it in him right now to explain to Sam that this was a little fucking
different than him hitting Sam… and everything else that had happened. Sam knew
now. He knew what a twisted fuck his big brother really was… But Sam wasn’t
looking at him with disgust, or fear, or hate. Just concern, reassurance… Sam
reassuring him that he hadn’t “traumatized” his brother. Telling him… he might
not have… minded?
Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or sob… Was Sam just trying to make him
feel better or something? He couldn’t possibly mean it. They both couldn’t
possibly be that fucked up.
“I don’t know how to kill it, Sam.” He finally managed in a hoarse whisper.
===============================================================================
“Okay.” Sam still wasn’t sure he shouldn’t be calling dad, at least to just
find out how to deal with a succubus. Or maybe even Bobby, he could tell the
hunter that Dean needed the information or something. Nah, Bobby was as hard to
bullshit as their dad.
Worrying his lip, he went back to researching, very aware his brother was
watching him, might even want to talk, but they needed this thing dead first.
He started to talk out loud as he found stuff out, state his own ideas.
A smile curved his lips whenever Dean managed to put in his two cents and poked
a hole in his theories. He knew thinking straight was taking a toll out of
Dean, could see how tired his brother was, how drained of energy.
Another hour went by before Sam sat up straight. “Doesn’t dad have this?” He
read the name of a text that was referenced as an authority on succubi. When he
looked over at Dean, his brother had his eyes closed and was asleep.
Without making a lot of noise, Sam put the lap top away and got out of bed. He
went into his dad’s closet, looked around at one of the shelves inside it where
he kept some sources. Nothing. “I’m gonna go to the garage, look in the storage
cabinet,” he said, though his brother was still out cold.
Taking one last look at Dean, Sam headed out, stepping barefooted onto the sun
heated porch and into the dying sunlight. Twilight hadn’t really brought much
relief from the heat. Inside the garage, it was sweltering. Breathing the hot
air, he started to rifle through the old cupboard, finding the false back and
taking it out.
* * *
It was furious. Sam... the real Sam had taken its place, offered Dean comfort,
given him sex. It wanted, needed Dean to be ravenous, needed him to be so
hungry, he would give everything, his life energy, every last drop, he next
time they had sex.
To make sure of it, he pulled the sheets down off Dean’s body and started
touching him everywhere, caressing lightly, infusing him with need, hot and
desperate desire.
As the feelings spread, he stepped back from the bed and took Sam’s form. He
waited until Dean’s eyes fluttered open. “How badly do you want me, brother?”
===============================================================================
He was so damned tired. Dean didn’t think he had been so worn out since he’d
gotten sick with the stomach flu a few years back and spent most of his time
either puking or sleeping. He’d felt like hell then, but he felt even worse
now. But that’s what happens when he let an incubus suck on him like a god
damned juice box because he couldn’t keep his hands off of his baby brother…
Fuck, he was pathetic…
Dean had tried to help Sam as much as he could, because despite the fact that
he felt he deserved all of this… what the incubus was doing to him… because of
his sick need for his brother, he didn’t want to die. He knew that things would
never be the same way they were before between him and Sam. At least the
younger boy was being kind enough not to throw it back in his teeth when he was
barely hanging on the edge by his fingertips. But Sammy was like that, too
damned nice for his own good sometimes.
Once it was all over though… he knew he would have to leave. There wasn’t
really any other outcome. He didn’t want Sam to have to look at him and always
wonder if his disgusting older brother was going to make a move on him or
something. He wouldn’t put Sam through that.
God, what the hell was he going to tell Dad? He supposed anything would do, as
long as it wasn’t the truth…
At some point Dean simply couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and he’d
drifted off to sleep to the sound of Sam muttering to himself, trying to puzzle
things out, and the clicking keys of the laptop. It was so normal it was almost
comforting.
Unfortunately, comfort was the last thing that Dean awoke in. His skin felt
like it was so hot he was burning. Need pumping through his veins like boiling
acid, pooling in his groin. His dick so red and hard, leaking, it was painful.
Dean moaned in agony as his eyes fluttered open. He could barely focus. He was
panting and shaking. Sweat forming on his brow and chest. Oh god, it was worse
than before, when he had… no… he couldn’t do that to Sam again… he couldn’t…
But Sam was standing there at the foot of the bed. Looking beautiful and
perfect and Dean couldn’t not try to reach out to him. Just to touch him…
needing to touch him… His wrist still handcuffed to the bedside table brought
him up short and Dean moaned in agony.
“Sammy… oh god… I need…”
===============================================================================
Sam looked serious. Wounded. He searched Dean's face, then came to sit on the
bed, his bare thighs brushing against Dean's feet. "When I slept with you, when
I let you fuck me, when I asked you to put your mouth over my dick... I thought
you loved me, Dean. I mean I really thought I was something more than one of
your sluts, you know? If you'd told me, explained it to me, I'd never have..."
Tears sparkled in Sam's eyes. He drew his knees up onto the bed, turning bodily
toward Dean, then opening his thighs, sitting crosslegged, one knee resting
over Dean's leg. "You cheated on me, that's just not right." His throat
convulsed. "How can it be fair, that I'm sitting here, just... just wanting
you, even when you did that to me. Explain to me why I have this incredible
urge to kiss you... to want to feel your tongue inside my mouth, moving in and
out... just like... you know," he nodded toward the door. "It was so hot Dean,
made me feel so damned good."
He rubbed the heels of his hands up and down his thighs, his stomach muscles
clenching and unclenching as he spoke. "Since then, all I can think about is
how your tongue felt on my dick, in my ass. I should feel dirty, but I don't...
I just want it, want it so bad. Everytime I think about it... look..." he
pulled the material of his boxers tight against his leg, to show Dean the
outline of his thick hard shaft "I want you touching me so bad, I like your
hands on me, like the sounds you make. I like it when you get rough... and then
gentle. Like it when your on top of me Dean, and when I feel how hard you are.
It makes me feel special. But I'm not, am I?" He cocked is head. "You did it
with him," he said, a sob breaking out of him. "You gave up fucking me for...
for that pale imitation?"
===============================================================================
Dean could barely understand Sam’s words through the haze of lust clouding all
of his thoughts, though they still hit him like a punch to the gut. Twisting
him up inside even more than the burning need running through his veins like
wildfire. Need for his brother.
But Sam thought he…
No, he didn’t think of Sam like that. Sam meant everything to him! He did love
Sam! So damned much… too damned much…
“Sammy…” Dean whimpered his brother’s name. Not understanding. Cheated? But he
hadn’t…
Dean groaned and his hard aching dick dribbled another stream of come along his
stomach when Sam mentioned what they’d done last night. In the kitchen. How
he’d licked the younger boy open and then fucked him right across the kitchen
table…
No… that wasn’t right, that hadn’t been Sam… it… was the incubus… wasn’t it? He
didn’t know. He wasn’t sure. He was so damned confused he didn’t know what was
right or wrong anymore. He wanted Sam even though he knew he was sick for it.
He loved Sam even though he knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to make love to Sam…
had made love to Sam… and he wanted to again. Needed to again. Oh god, he
needed…
He couldn’t help but watch as Sam’s hands traveled along the younger boy’s skin
even though his brother’s pained words pushed the knife deeper into his heart
and twisted it.
“You are special, Sammy. I love you… I do… so damned much it hurts, baby
brother. I’m sorry… I was confused… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to. I never wanted
to hurt you, never… Love you…”
===============================================================================

Sam watched him intently, every single movement of his hands and body geared to
draw attention to his body, his tongue as he slowly licked his mouth, his long
legs as his hands continued to fidget and slide over them. Even the way he
turned his head, swallowed, made sure Dean was looking at his throat... felt
his need, his hunger rising, whipped it up with everything he had. He wanted
Dean so frenzied that the boy wouldn't know what the hell was happening, even
as the last drops of his life essence were sucked out of him.
The aroma of his need, of his emotional confusion, his heartache... his guilt,
it was so intoxicating that It wanted to attack him right here, right now. So
handsome, tied up and writhing with absolute need, a sheen of sweat covering
him, his eyes unfocused and pleading... it couldn't be more perfect.
Moving onto his hands and knees, he crawled forward, straddling Dean's knees,
licking his lips as he felt the heat rising from Dean's body. "I want you. Want
you so bad Dean. Want you to kiss me, want to hear you say I'm yours, that you
don't want anyone else... that it's me you need to kiss, to fuck, it's me you
want to hold... me you dream about." Lowering himself but not touching Dean at
all, moving above him, in subtle sex motions, he let his mouth drop at the
corners. "I saw you.... saw you let him get on top of you, heard you with him.
I thought you wanted me. I won't share you... I'd rather take my stuff and
leave. Never see you again, never feel you inside me, never hear you yell my
name. You getting this Dean? I won't share you."
* * *
Thank God for the Latin to English dictionary. Sweat dripped down Sam's
forehead as he poured over the book he'd finally found that had a chapter
addressing succubi. Nothing specifically on how to deal with an incubus, but he
had to believe they were similar enough that this would work. Maybe he should
have been researching Succubi earlier, dammit. His finger swept down the page
of the dictionary... Forsake, renounce, relinquish..
Alright... they could do this. First the fucking creature had to be lured back.
Sam reached for the text one more time, wanting to see if there was anything
else... anything.
===============================================================================
He was burning up from the inside out. That’s what it felt like. Dean wouldn’t
have been surprised if Sam told him he was dying. He’d never felt lust or need
like this. Had never wanted to feel it like this. This was too much. It was
painful and he just wanted that pain to end. It didn’t matter how, he just
wanted it to end...
Dean whimpered when the younger boy finally moved. Closer to him. Hovering over
him so close he could feel the heat of his brother’s body, and yet, not
touching him. Dean groaned in pain at the torture. He just wanted to touch Sam.
He wanted to grab the younger boy, pull him down, arch against him and kiss him
until neither of them could breathe. Instead he was frozen. Frozen by the pain
even though he was shaking with it. Frozen by the look in Sam’s eyes.
The possession.
“I want you. I need you.” Dean barely managed to whisper. Choking a little when
Sam said he would leave... oh god... he couldn’t bear that thought. He was
certain he would die if Sam left him. He’d just burn to ash right where he was
laying.
“Please... don’t leave... want you...” Dean begged unashamedly, tears in his
eyes. “Need you... only you... I’m yours...”
===============================================================================
Heat rose inside It at Dean's total capitulation. The boy was his, and they
were going to fuck to the death... Dean's. He could already feel Dean burning
up, it was going to be beautiful. Poetic. It had been a long long time since
he'd had anyone with the capacity for this much lust and pain and guilt and
love all rolled into one.
"Alright then," Sam whispered, licking his lips and crawling forward a little
more so he was directly over Dean. "Take my shorts off Dean. Have me," he
whispered sweetly, touching his mouth lightly against Dean's feverish skin as
he slid it over his cheek to his mouth. "You can have me Dean, however you
want. Just have me."
*
Balancing a couple books and a glass of water for Dean, Sam walked inside. The
room was both hot and cold at the same time, and he just knew from the way Dean
was moving, looking like he was touching someone... that that Incubus was here
with them. Everything in his hands slipped to the ground, the glass shattering
and skittering across the floor. Yet despite the sound, his brother didn't even
look up.
His heart slammed into his chest. "Dean!" Running to the bed, he hardly felt
pieces of glass cut into his feet again, but when he reach it, it was like
there was a wall, a forcefield keeping him away from his brother. Getting off
the bed, he tried to reach him from the other side, but it was like a bubble,
holding Dean inside... not allowing Sam in.
"Can you hear me, Dean? Dean!" But his brother's eyes were only on the
invisible entity that had to be with him right now. Seeing Dean like that, the
things he was doing, saying, it made Sam squirm. The anger boiling within him,
he used it to think of eveyrthing he'd learned. If you exposed a demon or a
ghost, could see them, they could be more vulnerable and were usually more
inclined to interact.
Wracking his mind, he spewed off a Latin incantation that he'd read about and
that his dad would probably have a cow about, if he knew he was doing this. "I
invoke, conjure and command you to appear," he said, repeating the phrase over
and over, staring at the space right on top of Dean.
And then the lights flickered, and he saw... saw himself, naked, on top of
Dean, turning around with hate filled eyes.
"Dean! That is NOT me," Sam shouted, trying again to get through the barrier,
seeing his double lick his lips and shove its hand down Dean's shorts, grabbing
his brother's attention. "Dean, over here... that's not real, it's not real,
Dean! Dean, this is Sam, you know me," he shouted desperately. "Look at me,
that thing on you, its the incubus. Remember? We were researching, fucking look
at me, Dean!"
===============================================================================
Dean whimpered, a desperate needy sound, and once Sam had given him permission
it was like whatever chains had been holding him frozen suddenly snapped.
Nothing could have stopped him then from touching his brother. Nothing could
have stopped him from kissing the younger boy. Pushing his tongue into Sam’s
mouth with an obscene groan as the fingers of his free hand fumbled with and
finally literally tore off the younger boy’s underwear. Leaving Sam naked and
beautiful and all his above him.
“Oh god, Sammy… need you so much…” Dean panted as he pulled his brother’s lithe
form down against him and arched beneath the younger boy. The pressure against
his cock as he rubbed up against his brother both soothing and fanning the
flames of his desire even more. His hand ran down the younger boy’s back,
cupping and squeezing Sam’s buttocks, and then delving between them. Finding
that sweet puckered hole and remembering how it had felt sheathed deep inside
of his brother last night. He wanted that again. Needed that again.
“Want to be inside you, baby brother. Want to feel you inside again… need to…”
He whispered, against his brother’s lips. Pulling back to stare at the younger
boy with all the love in his heart so that Sam would never again doubt. He
would always choose Sam. Always. There was no one in this world that mattered
more to him. No one in this world he loved more, needed more, than his brother.
“Love you, Sammy… love you…”
Dean’s fingers circled around his brother’s tight hole, still so tight even
though he’d already had the boy, and he moaned at the younger boy’s warmth as
he started to push one of his fingers inside. His attention solely focused on
his brother, he didn’t even notice the flickering of the lights. But when Sam
suddenly turned his attention away from him, Dean’s gaze immediately started to
follow. He frowned in confusion, thought he saw, thought he heard…
But then Sam’s hand was inside of his shorts, squeezing and stroking his dick
expertly, and Dean arched beneath the younger boy with another cry of pleasure.
“Sammy!” Dean cried out his brother’s name as he thrust up into those skilled
fingers playing with his dick. But once he had heard it, the sound wouldn’t go
away now. It… sounded like Sam… calling to him, but from very far away… Sam
sounded scared and desperate… in trouble… but Sam was right here, with him…
wasn’t he?
“Sammy?” He whispered, confused and pained, as he turned his head to the side…
away from Sam, and it was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life…
blinking his eyes as though trying to clear them.
===============================================================================
Oh my God, Dean was looking at him, seeing him. Sam had to make this count.
"I'm the real Sam Winchester, I'm your brother," he shouted, banging his hand
against the force field. "That thing... Dean, it's the incubus, it's killing
you. Don't listen to it, don't... don't touch it. Look at me.... don't turn
away," he shouted desperately.
His nemesis redoubled its efforts, leaning down and kissing Dean, blocking his
view of his brother. He shoved his tongues so deep inside Dean's mouth, the
young man couldn't ignore it. In and out, he wove his tongue, lifting up only
to whisper about how hard they were gonna fuck again, how they'd be together
forever, just like that.
Sam jumped of the bed, ran around to the other side of the forcefield. "Dean...
listen to me. Tell it you don't want it. Tell it to go away, it's the only way
we win Dean. Dean please..."
Precious moments passed, and the incubus had Dean groaned and writhing, making
Sam both uncomfortable and getting him hot and bothered, which he knew was all
wrong. Still, his body hardened, his breaths quickened... watching Dean,
watching him with himself, it literally felt like he was the one with Dean. And
he knew what that felt like, he knew the heat that Dean could send pumping
through his body, how he could kiss him, make him feel like he was the center
of the universe, the only one who mattered.
That's what that incubus was doing to Dean. Understanding dawned, and Sam tried
again. "Dean, I love you. You know that. That thing there, it looks like me,
but it isn't. Look at it, it's taking from you, Dean. It wants your life, it
sucking it out of you. I just want..." He licked his lips. "I just want you.
Want you to kiss me, like your kissing it, and it'll be real... not some act...
you don't need some actor when the real thing is waiting on you, do you?"
His gaze fell on the incubus' hands and he saw how the thing moved, like a
professional, milking lust out of Dean's body.
"I know I can't do that, what he's doing." Sam was on the verge of tears as he
realized what he was up against. "I can't compete with that, how he's... he's
touching you. But Dean, my love is real, his is not. I can learn... but not if
you die, not if you let that thing take you from me."
===============================================================================
Dean blinked at Sam slowly in confusion. Not understanding how Sam could be all
the way over there, and still be touching him. Running his fingers over his
chest, caressing his cock, god, it felt so good… Of course Sam was real. Sam
was with him. Finally. Just like he’d always wanted… incubus… what…?
But then Sam was kissing him, and Dean couldn’t help but groan in pleasure. His
eyes fluttering closed again as he kissed his brother back with just as much
passion. Tangling their tongues together. Arching beneath the younger boy and
squeezing Sam’s ass rightly, thrusting his already leaking cock through Sam’s
slick fingers.
His own fingers circled closer to his brother’s tight hole, groaning again at
the heat of the younger boy’s puckered entrance. Teasing and finally slipping
his fingers inside of his brother. Sam was already ready for him, slick and
hot, begging, and so needy…
God he needed this so damned much…
Sam… Sam loved him… Sam needed him… His brother was in so much pain… Sammy…
He couldn’t think. Everything was such a blur. Everything pale and…
meaningless… when compared to the burning need consuming him from the inside
out. Everything except Sam. The Sam who was crying. In pain. The Sam who was
begging him not to… leave…
Somehow Dean managed to turn his head weakly away from the lips that felt like
they were almost suffocating him. He tried to breathe, tried to catch his
breath, but it felt like the air simply wouldn’t reach his lungs. He tried to
focus on something else, anything else, to clear his head only a little. Blood…
he tasted blood in his mouth… he felt it dripping warm and wet from his nose…
He tried to focus on Sam, he knew his brother was there, but he couldn’t see
him.
“No…” Dean whispered, barely more than a breath. Weakly trying to push the
weight off him that was suffocating him.
===============================================================================
Seeing the incubus still touching Dean, rolling his hips, making Dean wild, Sam
slammed his hand against the barrier. “He said NO. He said no, get away from
him. You have to leave now. I command you to leave, he said no, he renounced
you. Dammit!”
He bent down, to Dean’s level. “Tell it again, tell it Dean… say ‘I renounce
you’… tell it, I swear Dean, you tell it that, and it will go away. It, the
pain, everything.”
Leaning down, It pushed its tongue all the way down Dean’s throat, kissed him
just like they’d fuck. “He’s not going to give you this. You heard him, he says
everything will go away. He means this. But you don’t want this to go away, do
you Dean? You want me.”
Sam hit the barrier again. “Anything you want, Dean, I’ll give it to you. Kiss
you, touch you… Dean, I love you, please. Please!!!”
===============================================================================
Dean couldn’t help but groan and arch up against the warm weight above him.
Writhing underneath the undulating body pressing down on him, the hot line of
their cocks sliding together. He just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop
touching. Caressing. Wanting… needing… When the younger boy’s hot wet mouth
covered his, and the tongue pushed its way inside, Dean opened his mouth freely
to the intrusion. He just couldn’t help it…
He wanted it to stop. He never wanted it to stop…
Sam was yelling at him again. Screaming at him. Telling him what to do… telling
him it would go away…
He wanted it to go away. Ne never wanted it to go away…
Dean whimpered in response to the words whispered across his lips. Sam… not
going to give him this… it will go away… Sam will go away… no… he needed Sam,
he needed him so much… No, he didn’t want Sam to go away…
He felt himself slipping away again, becoming buried underneath the feelings
raging through him like wildfire. Need… Lust…
Love… Sam loved him… Sam needed him. Sam was the only thing that mattered… not
the pain, not the need, not the lust… nothing… Just his brother… just his
Sammy…
“No… want Sammy, I… r… renounce… you…” Dean gasped weakly.
===============================================================================
"Get off him, he renounced you!" Sam shouted, banging his fists on the
forcefield and then stumbling forward when it was no longer there. He reached
for the incubus, but the thing had floated up, high above Dean, and was
changing colors. It went from his own coloring to a freaky deep red.
Sam's entire body clenched in pain... no it was lust? Painful lust, like what
Dean was going through. "S...stop..."
There was angry shriek from the incubus and then it was gone.
Sam's body went limp. He turned to Dean, thinking that like himself, his
brother had been released from the spell, but he was wrong. Dean looked
feverish, hsi body was writhing, his eyes needy. But he wasn't asking... not
asking him for a thing. And now knowing how bad it was... Sam knew the super
control Dean had to be exerting, that it could break any moment. He eyed the
cuff on Dean's wrist, wanted to remove it... but remembered the last time Dean
was all hands.
It was different now, right? He'd promised Dean he'd be with him, however he
wanted. He could trust Dean with his life, with slowing if that was what he
needed, right? He thought back on the last time they'd practically made love...
no fucked... no made... ah he was gonna drive himself nuts trying to figure it
out. But he remembered, Dean was handsy and demanding, but he never hurt him,
he begged but never forced him.
He went to get the keys to the cuffs and saw Dean raising his body practically
off the bed. "I'll be right there Dean, I swear," he said. By the time he got
back, he dropped the damned key three times before he had the cuffs unlocked,
and slowly lowered his body over his brother's naked one. "It's gone. I'm
here... I'm here Dean," he said, shaking slightly as he lowered his mouth to
Dean's and brushed against them once. "I think I still remember how," he said,
a little embarrassed, but smiling slightly as he started to push his tongue
into the heat of Dean's mouth, knowing in a few seconds, his brother would make
all the self consciousness go away, make it all better, just like he always
did.
===============================================================================
The sight of Sam… the incubus… as it truly was, was both sickening and
frightening. Maybe even more so because even seeing it for what it truly was,
when its touch finally left him Dean still couldn’t help crying out in
agonizing need. The demon’s last shriek of rage lanced through his whole body
like a knife. Flaying him open completely and leaving him bleeding and wounded.
It was supposed to go away. The pain… Sam had promised the pain would go away…
It only got worse. So much worse…
Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned in pain, desire so strong it
hurt, his body shaking like he was having a seizure. He knew that his brother
was still there, his real brother, Sammy. He knew Sam was there and… Sam had
promised the pain would go away. Sam had promised him…
Dean clung to that knowledge. His fingers gripping the sheets beneath him white
knuckled, clinging to that thought. Sam had promised him. Promised to give him…
everything…
He felt the bed shift. Dean opened his eyes. He could barely focus, but he saw
Sam… leaving… and he couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his lips if he
tried. Sammy… no… oh god, Sam couldn’t leave him like this. He couldn’t… He
needed Sam so badly, god help him, but he needed… he knew he shouldn’t, but he
did.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to regain control over his body,
trying to slow his heart that felt like it was ready to explode in his chest.
He barely felt it when the cuff fell away from his wrist, however his eyes
snapped open when he felt Sam’s slim body cover his own. His breath rushed out
of him in a shuddering whimper when his brother’s lips brushed his own. Sammy…
oh god… Sam…
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Dean wrapped his arms around the younger boy
tightly, clutching Sam to him as he opened his mouth beneath his brother’s.
Sucking Sam’s tongue into his mouth and stroking it with his own. He touched
Sam everywhere. Cupping and squeezing his buttocks, pulling Sam closer as he
bucked underneath him. He ran his fingers through the younger boy’s hair, and
cradled his head as he kissed Sam over and over. He arched underneath his
brother desperately, his rock hard erection rubbing against his brother’s
thigh, and when his orgasm finally ripped through him it took Dean completely
by surprise. He practically sobbed into his brother’s mouth as his body
shuddered. But with every pulse of his cock he felt a little bit of the pain
ease, a little bit of the need fade…
He was still hard, painfully hard, but his grip on the younger boy eased and
his kisses gentled. Dean panted against his brother’s lips as his hands slid up
from the younger boy’s ass and under his shirt, caressing the soft warm flesh
of Sam’s back. He kept moving beneath Sam, grinding up against the younger boy,
but he was able to go slower. His movements less frantic. His hands slid around
to Sam’s chest, pushing his brother up off him a little. His fingers toying
with Sam’s nipples as he stared up at his brother. Something else other than
blind need flickering in his eyes as he gazed up at the younger boy.
Dean’s eyes fell on his brother’s kiss swollen lips with no small amount of
guilt.
“Tell me… you don’t want this… I’ll stop…”
===============================================================================
The way Dean held him so tight, Sam could barely breath. His brother’s
desperation was palpable, in the almost brutal kiss, in the way his fingers dug
into his flesh, his ass, his back, in a way that had Sam thinking that even if
he’d wanted to pull away, Dean might not be able to let him, and in the way he
bucked so hard, so single mindedly grinding his erection into his thigh.
Fuck... maybe it shouldn’t, but it did excite Sam... had him going hard just
like that. The knowledge of how much Dean needed him, the proof of it... the
hard knot rubbing against his thigh, the desperate sounds from Dean, it made
Sam throb all over, every part of them that touched, made him want this to go
on and on, even if Dean was hurting... which was fucked up and crazy... “oh
God,” he whispered, opening his mouth again for his brother’s tongue.
Then wet hot cum was spurting across his thigh, and Sam almost wept because he
thought it was the end. Dean had what he wanted, and maybe didn’t know what
he’d started in Sam. This... these feelings that were building, and he didn’t
want to go and take care of it alone again. He wanted Dean to...
Then Dean didn’t stop. He was touching him again, only much more gently. His
hands pushing him back, but only so he could touch his chest. Sam involuntarily
threw his head back at the intensity of sensations crashing through him as Dean
ran his calloused fingers over his nipples. He made a choked sound and forced
himself to open his eyes, rocking gently against Dean, hesitating but unable to
keep his restless body still. Wanting... wanting something from his brother,
wanting it bad... His lips parted, eyes widening... hoping.
“Don’t stop. Please Dean, don’t stop. I want...” he thrust against Dean,
grinding his own erection into his brother’s hip. “Want this... don’t make me
jerk off in the shower again, please. Need this,” he pushed his hips down
again, “kiss me again, Dean.. want to...” he felt the heat steal over his
cheeks. “Want to be under you.”
===============================================================================
The powerful… deadly… need that the incubus had created inside of him hadn’t
dissipated when he’d come. Not completely. Just enough to let him think beyond
the painful arousal surging through his veins. Just enough to understand what
was happening. What he was doing… and who he was doing it with… Dean knew
without a doubt if Sam hadn’t stopped the incubus tonight that it would have
killed him. Sucked him completely dry…
But even knowing that his brother had saved his life tonight, aside from the
powerful need still gripping him, he couldn’t help feeling shame and guilt just
as powerful. A part of him wished that Sam hadn’t intervened.
Because this wasn’t some twisted sex demon he was holding, kissing, rutting up
against. It was his baby brother. Sammy. How could he be doing this to his
brother? How could he let himself… He hated himself more in this moment than he
ever had his whole life. Because he knew he could stop, if Sam would just tell
him to stop, he would. He didn’t care how much it hurt, he would stop… But Sam
had to tell him… he didn’t have enough control to do it himself.
But Sam didn’t tell him. Sam kept rubbing against him, grinding his hips down
against his needy erection, and Dean couldn’t help the needy pathetic sounds
that even those small movements drew from him. Don’t do this, please, Sammy… He
wanted to beg his brother, but he was weak. He couldn’t… and he hated himself
even more. Sam begging him not to stop, begging for his kisses, his touch,
telling him he wanted this… even though there was no way his brother could
possibly want this… was Dean’s undoing.
“Oh god, Sammy…” Dean practically whimpered before pulling his brother back
down to him, turning them both so that Sam was beneath him… just like Sam had
asked. He covered his brother’s lips with his own, pouring all of the want and
need… he shouldn’t be feeling… into the kiss, moaning softly into the younger
boy’s mouth. So sweet… so much sweeter than that… thing… pretending to be his
brother.
He slid his hands down his brother’s body, hating the feel of the fabric
beneath his fingers instead of the warm soft flesh he wanted to feel. So Dean
pushed his hands underneath Sam’s shirt, spreading his fingers over the younger
boy’s stomach as he caressed upwards. Sam’s t-shirt riding up as he went,
feeling the taunt warm flesh of Sam’s stomach against his own making Dean groan
again as he settled between his brother’s legs, rocking his hips against his
brother’s. One of his hands moving around to slide beneath the waistband of his
brother’s shorts, cupping and squeezing the younger boy’s bare ass.
===============================================================================
Dean’s hesitation scared Sam. He could see the indecision in his brother’s
eyes, even as his body gave a whole other story. One of wanting, desiring,
needing. “Under you,” Sam repeated, trying to show him that he meant it.
His brother’s arms closed around him so tight, and then they rolled and he had
Dean’s weight over him. Groaning at how good it felt to have the pressure of
Dean’s body pressing into him like this, Sam squirmed closer, offering his
mouth up completely to Dean. God the heat that went through him each time Dean
kissed him... bet no one knew how to kiss like his brother.
He put his arms around Dean’s shoulders, one hand sliding up the center of his
back to the nape of his brother’s neck, playing with his hair as they kissed.
He analyzed everything he loved about this. His brother’s taste... his scent,
so familiar, and yet it was tantalizing, drawing him in a way it never had
before. The confident way Dean moved, controlled the kiss, making it go slower
and faster, tangling his tongue a million way, making this seem so...
effortless... easy, just how Dean was on hunts, and when he was looking for
chicks, at the top of his game. But the sounds he made... that’s what Sam liked
best. Because as practiced as Dean was, as good as he was at this, the sounds
told him that he was affected... that he needed Sam too, and that’s what made
Sam respond even more wholeheartedly.
As Dean’s hands moved over his stomach, Sam lifted his hips up, needing to get
as close to Dean as he possibly could. “Dean, good... feels good,” he said,
moving his mouth over his brothers, sucking his lower lip into his mouth like
Dean had done to him. Releasing slowly, he moved to Dean’s upper lip and at
just that moment, he realized Dean’s hands were inside his boxers. A loud moan
broke out of him, his fingers digging more desperately into Dean’s back as heat
swept through him.
“Oh God Dean ... more... please,” he begged, moving restlessly under his
brother, hooking one leg over Dean’s and pulling himself up. “More... more
Dean,” he demanded, his head moving from side to side.
===============================================================================
Sam was touching him, holding on to him, hell, practically clinging to him. His
brother’s soft fingers petting through his hair, teasing and soothing at the
same time. The younger boy moving against him, squirming underneath him, but
not to get away… like Sam should have been… only to get closer. Sam was making
soft needy sounds, practically mewling into his mouth, and kissing him back… oh
god, Sammy was kissing him back, and Dean could barely believe it. He would
have sworn this was still a dream, a fantasy created by the incubus, but Dean
knew it wasn’t. No matter how much that thing looked like his brother, no
matter how much it sounded like Sam, no matter how much pleasure it gave him,
it was nothing compared to having Sam in his arms.
Sammy… his little brother…
Dean wanted to hate himself but the way Sam was lifting his hips, whispering
how good it felt as the younger boy sucked on his lip… the way Dean had shown
him to… The way Sam moaned in surprise and pleasure as Dean squeezed his ass,
clutching him tighter, and begged for more. Fuck…
“Anything you want, Sammy… anything…” Dean heard himself whisper and he knew he
was lost. He was sliding his hand up the smooth lean muscled thigh that wrapped
around him, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his brother’s underwear and
dragging them down. Just enough to let the younger boy’s hard cock spring free
and Dean groaned at the sight. He curled his fingers around the younger boy’s
cock and began to stroke him, kissing and nipping his way down his brother’s
throat and sucking on the skin above his collar bone.
===============================================================================
The low timbre or Dean’s voice got to Sam. His stomach muscles clenched
tighter, he moaned as Dean’s calloused palm slipped up his thigh, and bit his
lip in surprise when his shorts were moved out of the way.
Heat stole up Sam’s cheeks when Dean looked down between their bodies, then
Dean’s hand was around his dick, stroking him... oh God it felt like nothing
he’d ever experienced... like nothing he’d ever dreamed. White hot heat licked
up his body, making him squirm and thrust into Dean’s hand, making sounds come
out of his throat... sounds he didn’t even recognize as his.
Sam’s blunt fingernails dug into Dean’s flesh as his brother took him to places
he’d never been. Each time his brother’s mouth moved over him, each little
nibble on his sensitive skin had Sam aching just a little more. He threw his
head back as a new wave of heat raced through his veins.
Sam’s breaths came in gasps as Dean moved lower on his body, as he kept pumping
him. He was so hard... so damned hard. “D... Dean...” he had to really work on
making sense. “Can I ... can I touch you too?” his hand slid down Dean’s back,
to his sides. “L... like you are?”
===============================================================================
Oh god. Sam’s cock in his hand felt like hot velvet covered steel, practically
burning his palm. The sounds his little brother was making, they were driving
him crazy. Needy desperate whimpers and moans with every stroke he made along
his sensitive flesh, every lick he made along his younger brother’s sweat slick
skin, every time he circled his thumb over the head and sensitive slit of the
younger boy’s dick. He was going to go to hell for this, Dean knew, but right
now he didn’t give a damn.
The younger boy’s fingers digging into his back, clutching him tighter, had
Dean groaning. He stroked Sam a little faster as his brother fucked into his
hand, and Dean held the younger boy a little tighter to him, loving the feel of
his baby brother squirming helplessly beneath him in pleasure.
Dean bit down at the junction of the younger boy’s neck and shoulder, sucking
hard, knowing he was leaving a mark and not really caring. Leaving a mark that
Sam would wear for days, and every time his brother looked at it he would
remember now… the idea made him sick at heart even as it thrilled him.
Sam asking… practically begging… to touch him too nearly had Dean coming. He
lifted his head, staring down at his brother with so much love and need it
hurt, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to turn back, stop this, but he
had already gone too far. There was no turning back now. God help him…
“Yes… please, Sammy…”
===============================================================================
The way Dean was sucking on him had Sam smiling slightly. He wanted to ask if
Dean thought he was candy or something, but Dean’s hand moving over his cock
made it impossible for him to joke.
The intensity of Dean’s gaze was almost too much to bear. Sam licked his lips,
wondering if he shouldn’t have asked, and then his brother was not only saying
‘yes’ but asking him to.
“Dean, don’t stop,” he whispered, afraid that they were switching and that
Dean’s hand would no longer move over him, but Dean seemed to understand. He
just rolled onto his side, so they were facing each other, and oh God his hand
was working him as good as before, squeezing stroking.
Breaking away from Dean’s gaze, Sam looked down, his cheeks flushing upon
seeing Dean’s cock erect and pressing up against his stomach. He’d just come
and already.... Swallowing, he put his palm over Dean’s chest, slowly running
it down his body, lips parting in wonder as he felt Dean arch into his touch.
First he palmed Dean’s cock, pressing his hand over it, trapping it against
Dean’s stomach, rolling his hand in circles as he got used to the length and
girth of his brother’s dick. When he worked up the courage, he took it in his
closed fist, eyes swinging upwards to Dean’s as he moved slowly, stroking him,
then emulating the motions of Dean’s own hand on him... squeezing when his
brother squeezed, running his thumb over the crown of Dean’s cock, pulsing...
and still watching Dean.
His breaths were coming louder. Sam leaned closer, rubbing his mouth across
Dean’s, inviting another kiss. He wanted Dean’s tongue inside his mouth,
thrusting ... tangling with his tongue, making him feel like they were
connected, that this was something special, for just the two of them.
===============================================================================
Dean shook his head slightly when Sam told him not to stop. No, he wouldn’t
stop. He couldn’t stop now. He was too far gone now. As much as he hated
himself, he was already damned, might as well go all the way. Unless Sammy told
him to stop… that was the only thing right now that probably could make him
pause. Not thoughts of their father. Nothing else. But he would never force his
brother. Never. He’d rather die first.
So when Sam nudged him he obediently slid off the younger boy’s body, facing
his brother on his side. His breath hitching a little in his throat when the
younger boy turned with him and snuggled up against him. Dean slid his other
arm around his brother while he continued to gently stroke up and down Sam’s
cock. His fingers tracing abstract patterns along the younger boy’s spine, from
the small of his back to the cleft of his ass.
The way Sam was looking at him only made him harder still if that was possible.
Precome leaking from his tip as the younger boy’s fingers touched him and Dean
groaned, pressing into his brother’s hand, as it slid down his body.
“Sammy…” Dean practically whined, his eyes fluttering closed and his lips
parted, panting, when Sam’s fingers touched his cock. More come leaking out,
smearing against his stomach as his brother rubbed his hand against it. Those
first tentative touches more incredible than he could have ever imagined,
simply because it was Sam’s fingers and palm rubbing against his dick,
exploring his length, finally wrapping around his aching shaft.
“Oh god…” The elder man groaned and then Sam was stroking him. The touches
along his dick mirroring what he was doing to the younger boy. When he teased
his thumb around the crown of his brother’s dick, and Sam did the same for him,
he wanted to come so fucking bad but he held back. Not wanting this to end so
soon. He needed this not to end soon. He needed it to last for as long as
fucking possible. Because he knew it would never happen again.
“Sammy…” He breathed his brother’s name again against the younger boy’s lips
when he felt them gently caress his own and he didn’t hesitate accepting the
silent offer. His mouth opened to Sam’s and he teased his tongue past his
brother’s lips to caress inside the younger boy’s mouth. His other hand slipped
down his brother’s back to cup his brother’s ass as he sped his strokes along
the younger boy’s dick. His fingers finding their way between the warm downy
cheeks to rub teasing along the crack, over the tight puckered hole again and
again.
===============================================================================
Dean's hand on his ass felt good, kind of tickled when he ran his fingers along
his cleft, but when his finger concentrated on his hole, Sam's eyes fluttered
open. Eyes wide, he watched Dean's face, unsure if he was supposed to be
touching Dean like that too. Really, he could barely concentrate on stroking
Dean's cock, keeping up the motions, when he was being drowned by the
sensations rocking his entire body. He gave a strangled, "Dean?"
It shouldn't feel good, he didn't know why he thought that, but the truth was
it did feel good. He'd never known how sensitive that area was, that being
touched there could feel like this. Yeah, he wasn't sure about things, but he
trusted Dean... and Dean would know. "Didn't know it would feel like that," he
whispered against Dean's ear, groaning as his brother squeezed him and then
gripped the base of his cock.
Had Dean realized he was close to coming... had he helped him slow down like
that? All Sam knew was that he was glad... that it felt good to keep going.
"s'good Dean," he managed to say, hips thrusting harder into Dean's palm. He
felt a light sheen of sweat cover him, he was so hot... he needed Dean so badly
his motions were getting jerkier. He tried to concentrate on moving his hand
just right, wanting to give Dean the same pleasure that Sam was giving him.
Again and again, he brought his mouth to Dean's, kissing him, learning to
tangle his tongue with his brother's. It felt good, so good to run his tongue
along the roof of Dean's mouth, to trace him from the inside, to stroke his
tongue over Dean's and dart his tongue away, only to be caught by Dean's.
Little sounds started to break from him. Heat pooled low in his belly, pressure
building... building to new heights. "Dean need... oh man... I gotta...." he
bit his lower lip, and squeezed his eyes shut as his balls drew up tight
against his body. "Dean, can't... can't wait more..."
===============================================================================
The look of near awe on the younger boy’s face as Dean played with his hole and
his cock at the same time was nearly his undoing. His brother was obviously
surprised, but that didn’t stop Sam from thrusting into his hand and back onto
his fingers and Dean couldn’t help rubbing more insistently over that tight hot
pucker. He could feel the younger boy shaking against him, and he knew that his
brother was close. Just as close as Dean himself was. Dean tightened his hold
at the base of the younger boy’s cock, trying to hold them both off for just a
few more minutes. He just wanted this to last a little longer…
“I’m so close… fuck Sammy, so good…” Dean couldn’t help but whisper, breathing
his brother’s name over and over, almost like a prayer as Sam fucked into his
hand harder, stroked him harder, kissed him again and again… Hearing the
younger boy’s little whimpers of need, his brother’s whispered desperate pleas,
was his undoing. He fucked once, twice, more into Sam’s hand, hanging right
there on the edge.
“Come for me, Sammy… I’ve got you… come for me, little brother…” Dean whispered
as he jerked the younger boy’s cock faster and pressed the tip of one finger
just past the tight muscles guarding his brother’s entrance. At the same time,
his own cock pulsed and he gave a strangled cry as he came a second time all
over the both of them.
===============================================================================
Sam didn't know why, but his brother's breathless words just pushed him that
much closer to the edge. He was moving with wild abandoned, touching,
squeezing, fucking between Dean's hands on his cock and his ass, not knowing
what to do with all these intense feelings rushing through him, drowning him.
It was too much, too much pleasure, too much need, too much helplessness.
"De.."
The sudden invasion of his hole made his entire body tense, and stiffen, his
balls drawing up so tight against his body it hurt. "Ungh!" The unintelligible
sound was torn from his throat, and then he was coming... all over his
brother... his cum spraying against Dean's stomach, even as Dean's splattered
hotly against his own. He was trembling, even as the last wave of heat passed
over him, and he rolled closer, putting his arm around Dean's waist, his
stomach sliding against the wetness of Dean's. He buried his face in his
brother's throat, breathing deeply, taking in his scent, trying to bring his
thoughts and feelings under control.
A few minutes passed. Peace settled inside his body. Leaning even closer, he
kissed Dean's neck. "You're mine Dean. Not... not that thing's." His eyes were
closed, his body and mind tired, drowsy now that Dean was safe, but he needed
to make that one thing clear. Had to. "Not that nurse's either." Yeah, Dean
would probably argue with him later, but he'd said his peace.
===============================================================================
Sam was coming. Just like Dean had told him to. Oh god, that only made Dean
come harder himself. His brother’s seed spilled through his fingers on the
younger boy’s cock, mingling with his own, and completely covering the both of
them. So fucking dirty and wrong and… perfect… His little brother was trembling
with desire, with the pleasure Dean had given him, his hand on the younger
boy’s cock and his finger inside… Fuck…
Dean withdrew his finger and released his brother’s spent flesh, he knew he
should push Sam away from him now… but he just couldn’t. He knew Sam would push
him away soon enough so it would be easier if he was the one to do it… but he
just couldn’t… he had promised Sam he wouldn’t. Even though he knew Sam would
never have made him make that promise if the younger boy knew this… would be
the result. His sick brother using him like this… oh god, he never should have
let Sam do this for him… How could he have fucked up this badly?
But Sam didn’t push him away, instead the younger boy only pushed himself
closer. Curling against him and holding on, rubbing their sweat and come slick
skin against each other, and Dean could only close his eyes as another gentler
shiver of pleasure passed through him. He was so damned tired. Exhausted beyond
anything he’d ever felt in his life. Now that the need the incubus had made
burn inside of him was sated, he felt like he could sleep for a week.
He knew they couldn’t… shouldn’t… stay like this. They needed to talk… but he
just couldn’t stay awake. Not when he felt so sated, warm, and… happy… Sam’s
soft words made his breath hitch a little in his throat. Sam couldn’t possibly
mean what… he thought Sam meant… God damn it he wasn’t going to start
blubbering like some kind of girl.
“I can live with that.” Dean murmured softly, hugging Sam even closer to him as
he drifted off.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter by Ithiel_Dragon
When Sam finally woke, it was late, real late into the night. They'd been out
for a good twelve ours. With Dean's arms around him, the heat of his body
against his own, he felt so... safe, protected. Things were back where they
should be again, with Dean normal and able to take back his role. Except Sam
had found out he could help his brother too.

He smiled against Dean's throat then lifting his head, looked down at his
brother, peaceful in sleep. Was it bad that he saw him differently now? That he
loved his brother's full lips, not just for how they looked, but how they
felt... the things they could do to him? That thinking about that mouth on his
body made him tingle and burn? Swallowing, his eyes swept over the scattering
of freckles across the bridge of Dean's nose. You had to be up close or know
they were there, or you'd never notice them. Then there were his eyes. One
minute they could be filled with mischief, the next so fucking intense it made
you hold your breath. But one thing... when he wasn't pushing you away, they
left you in no doubt that you were the center of his world.
Sam guessed he'd always known that. It had just been hard to hang onto that
feeling when Dean had started pushing him away. Shouting more often, basically
rejecting him in ways and for things he didn't understand. Now everything could
be right with them. Sam would make sure of it.
Lowering his mouth, he kissed Dean, hard, pushing his tongue inside his
brother's mouth, stroking his tongue and the roof of his mouth, making sure he
woke him. When he knew Dean was up, he started to pull away and found he was
kind of stuck to Dean. A flush of embarrassment swept over him at the knowledge
that it was the dried semen between them that was the 'glue.' "We should
probably shower. You wanna?" The 'with me' was obvious.
===============================================================================
Dean had slept like the dead. If he’d had any dreams, he didn’t remember them.
He didn’t move or shift in his sleep at all. He was completely utterly
exhausted, and completely lost to the world of the living. The roof might have
fallen in on him and he wouldn’t have woken up. That was a dangerous state of
exhaustion, especially for a hunter.
Even when he was sick or hurt he usually didn’t let himself sleep that hard,
unless he was unconscious. He had to be able to be awake and alert at a
moment’s notice, able to protect himself and Sam…
But he felt safe in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Warm and content… and
safe… safe enough to sleep deep and long without fear. Knowing he, and Sam,
would be safe until they woke up. Usually Dean didn’t feel that safe unless
their dad was around, but this time, this one time, he let himself.
Even when he was drawn out of his deep sleep against his will and without
warning by the pressure against his lips, for some reason he wasn’t alarmed.
The soft insistent wet tongue invading his mouth, exploring every inch of him,
made him moan softly instead of jerk awake reaching for a weapon at hand. His
arms tightened a little around the warm naked body pressed against him, his own
tongue tangling with the one in his mouth. His eyes finally fluttered open, a
soft sound of complaint escaping his throat, when those sweet lips pulled away.
“Sam?” Dean whispered, still half confused by what was happening as the rest of
his brain struggled to wake up. Sam was still with him… had never moved away
from him, obviously, by the way they were still ‘stuck’ together. Dean blinked
up at the younger boy. Yeah… a shower would probably be good, but… Dean
swallowed hard…
They needed to talk. Sam had to understand that just because his brother was a
sick fuck that wanted to fuck his baby brother, Sam didn’t need to… let him…
The incubus was gone… at least Dean was sure it was gone. It was just his own
sick twisted desires left. They might have been tying him up in knots for
months, but he could control them.
“Sammy… I… you don’t have to… do this…” Dean finally forced out, forcing
himself to loosen his hold on the younger boy in his arms. “I’m sorry… I’m
sorry you had to… I never wanted you to know, but you don’t have to anymore.”
===============================================================================
Icy fingers of fear had Sam meeting Dean's eyes as he waited to be pushed away,
to be rejected. It never came. Listening both to Dean's words and his body
language, Sam understood this was an apology and an opportunity to walk out the
door, that was all. Dean was being honorable, as usual, possibly at the cost of
his own happiness. He could see pain in his brother's eyes, regret. Bet he'd
rather have died, been sucked of all of his energy by that incubus than to have
caused Sam to do this, to make love with him.
Complicated, hell yeah. Sam had known that, known what he was getting into.
He'd known it as well as he knew his heart, and in his heart he knew this
wasn't just about the incubus. That might have been the catalyst for him
learning what he wanted, needed from Dean, but that wasn't the reason he wanted
to stay curled up against this brother, wasn't the reason he wanted some
assurance that this was not the last time, that they'd explore this... maybe
just accept it.
He licked his lips, tightened his own grip on his brother. "It's... it's not
about that Dean. I... I want this, wanted it before, want it now," he said
softy, trying to explain. "That thing is gone now, but this... this thing
between us, it's still here. I know you think I'm a kid, you do," he insisted
before Dean could interrupt him. "But I know my mind Dean, I know what I want.
I want you... want to be with you like this, only you." He skimmed his mouth
over Dean's, loving the heat... the electricity that was between them. He
couldn't give that up, wouldn't.
===============================================================================
Dean wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Maybe to see a flash of relief in
the younger boy’s eyes now that he didn’t have to let his sick older brother
use his body. Maybe he just expected Sam to nod in agreement and leave. At
least his brother was kind enough not to let his revulsion show… He hadn’t been
expecting his brother to hold onto him tighter. Almost desperately tight.
“Sammy?” Dean could only whisper in disbelief and confusion. What did Sam mean
that it wasn’t about the incubus? The fact that the creature had been killing
him… Sam had no choice… of course it was about that. But Dean wasn’t in
‘danger’ anymore. Sam didn’t need to keep doing this. Surely his brother had to
realize…
But Sam was saying… that he… wanted this… before…
Dean’s expression clouded over with even more disbelief. How could Sam possibly
have wanted this before? How could he want it now! They both couldn’t possibly
be this fucked up… oh god, had he damaged Sam more than he thought? Now Sam
thought that he actually…
He wanted to protest what Sam was saying, but honestly he didn’t even know
where to start. There was so much so very wrong… No, Sam wasn’t a ‘kid’
anymore. That was part of the problem. But he was still so damned young. Not to
mention Sam was his little brother. His brother had never even… been with
anyone before… except him. Fuck, that was so wrong…
Sam telling him that he wanted him, only him… it nearly broke his heart, even
as he felt it fill with a treacherous hope he had no right feeling. Then Sam’s
soft lips were gently caressing his own and Dean knew he was lost. God help
him, he couldn’t fight this, especially if Sam wouldn’t push him away like he
should.
“I should go to hell for touching you this way… loving you this way…” Dean
whispered, maybe praying that his brother would come to his senses and stop him
from ruining him. Praying Sam would come to his senses even as he kissed the
younger boy.
===============================================================================
Sam's answer died on his lips as Dean gave in and kissed him. Groaning softly,
Sam tangled his tongue with his brother's inside his mouth, stroking, tasting,
loving Dean, hanging onto him, holding him tight, showing him silently that he
meant what he said, that he wanted this... needed it. They kissed until he had
to pull up to take a breath.
His eyes locked with Dean's. He licked his mouth, tasting Dean there, and
swallowed. "You were on your way anyway. I'm... I'm just saving you from it,
from your slutting around." He gave a dimpled smile, then lowered his mouth
again for another mind drugging kiss. God... he loved the way Dean held him
tight, the way his hands roved over his body without even the slightest
hesitation. No awkward explorations, no experimental first-time touches. It was
perfect, Dean was perfect.
This time when he broke the kiss, he had no doubt he had Dean. His lips quirked
into another smile. "Want you to kiss me when you're all wet... in the shower."
Before his brother could answer, Sam rolled off him, and walked away, that
smile still firmly in place and certain, Dean would follow.
===============================================================================
Dean couldn’t help but moan softly against his brother’s lips as he surrendered
to the gentle loving kiss Sam eagerly returned and the older boy knew he was
lost. It was still wrong, would always be wrong, but as long as his brother let
him have this… wanted it just as much as he did… Dean knew he was lost. He
could only pray when the day came Sam realized that this wasn’t what he really
wanted, his brother wouldn’t hate him. When the day came that Sam didn’t want
this anymore, didn’t want him anymore, Dean would let him go… no matter how it
might break his heart…
Now, Dean couldn’t push Sam away. He’d promised… He wasn’t strong enough even
if he hadn’t made that promise.
When Sam finally pulled back from their kiss that left them both panting a
little, Dean’s eyebrows shot up a little at the younger boy’s words. Slutting
around… that little cheeky bitch. Dean would have had quite a few things to say
to that if Sam didn’t proceed to silence him with another kiss. Little shit.
And here he was worried about ruining his brother. The younger boy was still
the pain in the ass little brother he always was.
The next time Sam pulled away, making his suggestion that they continue this
‘discussion’ in the shower, Dean couldn’t help but return the younger boy’s
grin though he didn’t move right away. Simply watching Sam as his brother
rolled off him and headed off to the bathroom naked as the day he was born and
not the least bit shy apparently showing himself off.
Dean couldn’t help but smile more, a cautious optimism filling him in spite of
everything. Maybe it would be ok after all.
Hearing the shower start Dean pushed himself up from the bed, following after
Sam.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!