Take the Long Way Home
Take the Long Way Home
Chapter 4
Chapter Wordcount: 5469
Sam looked up from where he had been leafing through their dad’s journal, one leg propped up on his knee and the laptop open in front of him, its screensaver flowing endlessly on.
Dean nudged the motel room door closed with his foot, too busy wiping the grease off his hands with what used to be an old t-shirt.
“Oil’s changed and she’s greased,” he smiled, teeth blindingly white through the grime on his face. “But if we don’t have any other pressing matters I wanna head up to Bobby’s.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just getting time to do some regular maintenance that I can’t do in a parking lot.”
Sam nodded, “I still don’t understand how you can get so filthy doing something as simple as changing oil,” he said, grinning at Dean.
“What can I say Sammy, I like bein’ dirty,” Dean shot back, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself.
At least until Dean bent down to give him a kiss, Sam automatically turning his own face up on reflex, meeting Dean’s lips in a slow kiss.
Right when he was relaxed and boneless under Dean’s mouth, still somewhat unused to being able to have that kind of comfort and affection even after all this time, Dean grabbed his face in both hands, dragging his black fingers down his cheeks before laughing hysterically and bolting for the bathroom door.
“Oh my god! I’m gonna kill you!” Sam shouted, jumping up from his seat but being thwarted by the bathroom door slamming shut in his face, Dean’s laughter muffled through the cheap plywood.
“Just you wait!” Sam yelled, pounding in the door with his fist, smiling despite himself.
He walked over to the cracked mirror above the dingy dresser and groaned quietly, seeing the impromptu war paint all over his face.
Slowly he grinned and went and grabbed Dean’s favorite flannel from his duffle bag before going back to the mirror to wipe most of the black grit from his face, quietly replacing the shirt back where it came from when he was done.
Dean was outside, buried beneath the car when Sam took out a couple ice cold beers.
There was a ridiculous heat wave sweeping through and despite it being the middle of October it was still in the nineties during the day, and yes, Bobby had checked to make sure it was just a normal weather anomaly.
Sam stepped over and straddled Dean’s hips, smiling when Dean went on oblivious, cursing about something as Sam heard the socket wrench clang against metal.
He tipped the beer bottle until a drop of cold condensation rolled around the round bottom and dripped down onto the swath of skin above Dean’s belt, where his t-shirt had ridden up from twisting around on the creeper.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean jolted, something banging the underside of the car again before he yanked himself out from underneath the car, the creeper grating over the old concrete until he was glaring up at Sam’s ridiculously tall frame still standing astride him.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.
Sam rolled his eyes, smiled to himself and then squatted down, hovering over Dean’s chest.
“Whatever, I have cold beer, you know that’s instant forgiveness.”
Dean glared but took the offered bottle anyways.
“You wanna ease up on the personal space intrusion?”
Sam rolled his eyes, again, but moved to crouch down in front of the bumper.
“Like we have anything resembling personal space anymore.”
“Dude, Bobby...you know I’m fine with what we got, but it ain’t exactly orthodox. Bobby’ll tolerate a lot, but I dunno ‘bout this.”
“Bobby’s out front grilling burgers.”
“Yeah?” Dean asked, slight hopeful tinge to his voice.
“Yeah,” Sam grinned back, leaning in and planting his hand beside Dean’s head on the sun-hot metal of the chrome bumper.
Dean smirked back, draping his arm across his knee, bottle hanging loosely from his grease-grey fingers. He was about to lean in until he saw a movement from the house.
Movement that happened to be Bobby walking by the kitchen window, Dean saw him hesitate right past the window’s frame, only to take one step backwards in order to look out the grimy glass.
Dean reached out and shoved Sam’s shoulder, sending him sprawling out over the ground and spilling his beer all over the thirsty concrete.
“Dude! What the hell was that for?!”
“Bobby’s at the window,” Dean hissed, shoving his own bottle at Sam as a silent peace offering before ducking back under the shade of the Impala.
He heard Sam wiping his hands off on his jeans, obviously aggravated and swept his foot to the side until it collided with Sam’s boot.
“Look man,” he mumbled from under the car, “I know this sucks, we’ve both gotten used to...whatever it is we’re doing, but I just don’t feel right doing it at Bobby’s alright?”
“Yeah, I know,” Sam sighed, taking Dean’s words for the apology they were meant to be.
“Soon as I’m done with our girl here we’ll find somewhere to go and it’ll be back to normal.”
Sam smiled and nodded, despite the fact that Dean couldn’t see him and knocked his boot back against Dean’s.
They found somewhere to go alright. One of Bobby’s contacts called him, asking him if he knew anyone that could take a case in Tennessee. Kids were being picked off and Bobby had barely been done explaining it to them when Dean was throwing their bags back into the car.
They left early morning, drove through the day and were running on sugar and caffeine to hunt down the evil bastard that night.
Sam didn’t remember much of his shower, convinced he had slept through it, only thing he was concerned with now were the four steps it would take him to faceplant into the soft mattress, which in actuality was just as crappy as every other motel bed in existence, but damn did it look inviting.
He groaned into the pillow, splayed wide on top of the sheets and mumbled something that even he didn’t understand when Dean told him not to suffocate while he took his own shower.
Dean must have taken a speed shower, or else Sam had fallen asleep and lost time again, which was entirely possible, because it seemed like mere seconds later when he felt the mattress dip under Dean’s weight.
Dean chuckled quietly, he was beat himself, but seeing Sam so completely out of it was hilarious. He pushed the heel of his hand into the soft muscle and ran it up the line of Sam’s spine, smiling when Sam sighed and melted under the touch like a cat.
“Oh god Dean...”
He chuckled again, reaching behind himself to shut off the light before draping himself across Sam’s back.
Again Sam sighed, content and warm under Dean’s bulk, shifting back against him slightly and tangling his fingers awkwardly with where Dean’s hand had snaked under his chest.
“Mmm,” Dean hummed. “Missed this,” he finished quietly, planting a soft kiss on Sam’s shoulder blade.
Sam squeezed his fingers. “Me too,” he mumbled.
A week at Bobby’s unable to do much more than steal a quick kiss here or there had been more frustrating than he thought it would have been. He was just too tired at the moment to think too hard about it and merely melted into sleep, safe and warm, wrapped up in Dean.
Dean laughed, watching Sam skillfully almost miss the left pocket of the pool table. He shook his head and headed to the bar as he heard Sam laughing and talking smack with the guys at the table.
They were decent guys, a gruff mix of truck drivers, bikers and all around blue collar hard workers. They weren’t hustling them, didn’t rip off the honest folk unless they had no choice, but it was still fun, still good to sharpen the skills while kicked back and relaxing for once.
Dean had been shamelessly flirting with the bartender all night. Cute little thing with brunette curls wrapped up in a black tank top, thigh-less jeans and cowboy boots. She grinned and chuckled at his ridiculous smile and wink before heading over to serve him.
“’Nother round?”
“Yup,” he grinned, eyeing her ass as she collected the mix and match set of labels for all the boys at the table.
“Gotta say, don’t get many people in here that can actually beat Billy at his own game,” she grinned, snapping caps off one at a time.
“We travel a lot, practically live in bars,” he shrugged.
“Uh huh, we’ll you’ve got an hour left before I have to kick you out of your home sweet home,” she smiled, “unless of course you wanna stick around after close,” she finished, shooting him a look from under her lashes that there was no mistaking.
Dean froze, drug his bottom lip through his teeth, eyes half squinted. “Is that right...” he drawled.
“Yo! Dean!” one of the guys called from the table. Holding up his empty beer bottle and waving it in the air when Dean turned to look over his shoulder.
Dean grinned and then caught Sam’s eye, he was sitting on a barstool draining the last of his own beer and smirked, slight tilt of his lips that told Dean he knew exactly what was keeping him. Then he tilted his eyebrow up in a silent question of whether Dean wanted him to head back alone or not.
“You know,” Dean said, turning back to the bar, “I’d love to, really, but I can’t, I’m kinda...taken,” he finished, a bit surprised by his own answer.
“No problem,” she shrugged, grinning, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Certainly can’t,” he grinned back, flirting back even easier now that it was all just for fun.
She finally laughed and let him leave when the guys started cat calling and bitching about their missing beer.
“Alright, alright, shut up,” he grinned, handing out their respective bottles and taking their shit talking about the girl.
He smiled, taking his seat beside Sam and taking a pull from his own bottle.
“Swing and a miss?”
“Psht, please,” he said, shooting Sam a look from the side, “Dean Winchester don’t miss.”
Sam laughed, shaking his head and turned back to watch the pool game.
“You about ready to get out of here?” Dean asked a few minutes later, after last call.
“Sure,” Sam said slowly, saying bye to the guys before following Dean out to the Impala, sitting cool and black under a blacker sky.
“You’re not gonna stick around?” he asked, boots crunching through the gravel parking lot as they made their way to the car.
“Nah,” Dean said, shrugging and focusing on the keys in his hand. “Told her I was taken,” he finished quietly, standing beside the driver’s door.
Sam’s hand froze on his own handle, staring across the roof at Dean.
“Are you?” he asked quietly, swallowing hard against the sudden tightness in his throat.
Dean’s eyes finally came up to meet his, “Maybe,” he said quietly, holding his gaze for a minute before finally looking away and getting into the car.
Sam held on to the arm rest the entire, albeit short, ride back to the motel, shooting glances over at Dean every minute or two.
Dean of course noticed them all and just progressively tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles were bloodless white.
He wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to play out. Hell, he wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted it to play out.
He still wasn’t sure why he did what he did, said what he had.
Sure, he and Sam had been way closer than any brothers had a right to be ever since he came back and sure they crossed some pretty taboo lines, but it just...wasn’t that big a deal, not to them. But this...
There was no denying the crackling tension in the car. It hadn’t been this thick between them since they started whatever the hell this was. The touches and smiles had come easier and easier as time had gone on and now it was like a wall had slammed down between them and they were both grasping onto their side of the car hesitant and nervous to cross that see through line down the middle of the seat.
Neither of them broke the silence until they were back at the motel, the door clicked hesitantly shut behind them.
“Dean...”
“I dunno, okay?” Dean cut him off, rubbing a shaking hand down his face before collapsing on the foot of the bed, dropping his face into his hands just so he wouldn’t have to meet Sam’s eyes.
He could hear Sam pull out one of the little chairs from the small dinette, scraping across the thin carpet and the soft creak as Sam settled into it, in front of and just barely to the left of where Dean was sitting.
He felt the slight weight of Sam’s boot settling next to his, barest touch and heaved a sigh.
“I dunno, she asked and I just...” he trailed off, finally dropping his hands to stare at the place where leather met rubber, point of connection between them. “I didn’t wanna leave you,” he finished quietly.
“Wouldn’t be the first time either of us has been with someone since...” Sam said just as quietly, finishing with a wave of his hand in the space between them, one gesture encompassing this giant thing between them.
“I know,” Dean whispered, “I know and I just...I dunno,” he whispered, finally looking up to make eye contact for a brief moment before averting his eyes again. “It’s not even like I’ve thought about it, I mean yeah, we’re you know, close, but I hadn’t, I never...”
“Me either,” Sam said softly, “That’s not what this is...or was.”
“Sam,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes and dropping his head towards the floor again.
“It’s okay,” Sam said quietly, leaning forward, bridging that gap between them. “I hadn’t thought about it either, until now at least, but well...I’m not as freaked out as I prolly should be. I mean...this is us we’re talking about, there’s nothing that could...Dean,” he said, voice breaking over the name.
“I know,” he answered quietly, finally meeting Sam’s gaze and holding it, leaning his foot into the pressure of where Sam’s rested.
“It’s us, we started all this for...to show...”
“I know,” Dean smirked, love clear in his eyes, amused Sam was having just as hard a time with words as he was.
“Is this really that much more?”
“Sam,” he sighed, “Jesus Sam, this is like...a big deal.”
“To us? In this life?” he paused. “We’re never gonna have this with anyone else, you know that. Would it be such a bad thing? After everything we’ve been through?”
“That makes it all okay?”
“Maybe not to everyone else, no. But seriously. There’s no out of this life, we both know that, even if we ‘retire’ we’re gonna end up like Bobby with our finger’s still in the cookie jar. There’s never gonna be picket fences for us, maybe chain link with razor wire on top,” he smirked.
Dean smirked too, wringing his fingers together.
“And I for one am never letting you go,” he added in a whisper.
“Sammy...”
“I know, I’m not saying I’m not hesitant about this, but I can’t really see any downsides either, besides the obvious not going public with it thing. But then again, we’ve basically been dealing with that all along.”
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He had promised Sam no walls and if Sam ever figured some way to drag it out of him he wouldn’t deny that he loved what they had, where they were at. Sure it was twisted and wrong on certain levels, to some people at least, be had never felt more connected, closer to his brother, to the only thing he had left in his life than when they were curled up in bed after a hunt just sharing oxygen.
Sam knew that Dean would never make a move until he was 110% sure that Sam was okay with it. That’s how this whole thing started, Sam pretty much had to instigate everything, reassure Dean that he was okay with it, wanted it.
And yeah, this next step was big, huge, but it was them, there wasn’t one other person in Sam’s life that was so ingrained into who and what he was. Dean was his life, no way around it, Hell had found that out the hard way.
He reached forward slowly and laid his hand on Dean’s knee, feeling Dean freeze under the touch.
Slowly he slid it up, not pushing any lines yet, just moving the warmth up over the swell of Dean’s thigh.
“Sam,” Dean sighed.
“It’s okay,” Sam whispered, moving to sit on the bed next to Dean. “I don’t wanna push you, why don’t we just...act like normal, see where it goes.”
“Jesus,” Dean hissed, letting Sam nuzzle up under his jaw, turning into the soft touch until Sam’s lips closed over his.
This he knew, this he was used to but this time it was accompanied by a low thrum of heat that started in the depth of his chest and he knew was spreading a flush up his neck.
“It’s just me,” Sam whispered, pulling Dean with his mouth until they were side by side stretched out on the bed.
Sam could practically feel Dean melt under his hands, the moment when Dean let it all go and fell into wherever this went.
He eased himself up over Sam, taking his weight on his knees, keeping the connection with their lips. He sighed against Sam’s mouth before slowly moving, dragging his lips over the burn of stubble and trailing kisses along Sam’s jaw line.
Sam sighed against him, tilting his head to allow Dean more room to work. He curled his fingers in Dean’s worn-soft t-shirt and tugged it upwards awkwardly.
Dean just started laughing softly, burying his face in the crook of Sam’s shoulder.
Sam laughed too, sliding his hand up into Dean’s hair.
“I know,” Sam said quietly, “This is so weird.”
“You wanna stop?” Dean asked, sitting up to look at Sam.
“No...I don’t.”
Dean just swallowed hard and nodded, reaching behind him and yanking the t-shirt over his head. He started to lean back down when Sam placed his hand on his chest and sat up enough to take off his own shirt.
“We really doing this?” Dean whispered.
Sam didn’t answer, just leaned forward and sucked the skin where the circle of Dean’s tattoo sat over his heart.
Dean sighed again, wrapping his fingers in Sam’s hair.
“Let me Sam,” he whispered, pushing him back down onto the bed. Sam recognized that look in his eyes, the look that said Dean needed to take care of him. He had this drive, this mission burned into his blood to take care of Sam and while sometimes it infuriated him, he wasn’t a kid anymore, sometimes it was still nice to let go, to let Dean take care of everything, it felt good to have a love and devotion that powerful all pointed straight at him.
Sam leaned back and trembled under Dean’s lips.
Dean nibbled his way down Sam’s neck, leaving the skin over his collarbone flushed and red before swirling his tongue down and around Sam’s nipple, shivering under Sam’s hands when he felt Sam’s chest inhale shakily.
He placed his own soft kiss against Sam’s twin tattoo before sitting up and holding Sam’s eyes, his trembling fingers fumbled to unbutton his jeans before slowly pulling them off Sam’s mile long legs.
“Dean,” Sam whispered, holding his hand out and prompting Dean to crawl back over him.
Dean eased his way up and kissed Sam, slow and deep, like they did almost every night. Sam reached between them and unbuttoned Dean’s jeans, slipping his fingers under the waistband and up around to the hollow of Dean’s back.
Dean broke the kiss, inhaling deep and rolled his forehead against Sam’s, eyes closed against the emotion.
“Don’t really have a lot of practice at this,” Dean whispered, fingers hesitantly wrapping around the heat between Sam’s legs.
“Neither do I,” Sam mumbled, kissing Dean again, “Somehow I think we’ll be okay,” he grinned.
Dean smiled too, slowly stroking him to hardness, watching the way Sam’s pupils dilated in the low light.
“Talk to me Sammy,” he whispered, brushing his lips over his brother’s.
“’S’good,” Sam mumbled, nipping at Dean’s full bottom lip, slipping his thumb into one of Dean’s belt loops and dragging the denim down over one hip.
“Alright,” Dean mumbled, completely enamored with watching the way Sam slipped in and out of his fist before sitting up, dragging that same hand over his mouth before standing and shucking off his jeans.
Sam just groaned and pulled him back down against him, skin slick and flushed hot, kissing Dean again, hand snaking between them to return the favor.
Dean groaned, deep and low in his chest, burying his face in Sam’s neck and sucking a bruise into the soft skin as Sam squeezed tighter.
Sam fumbled for a moment before wrapping his hand around both of them, hot press of skin in his palm and Dean groaned shifting so he could rest his forehead against Sam’s again and huffed out a laugh.
“What?” Sam said quietly.
“Kinda weird,” Dean smiled, eyelashes sticking together.
Sam grinned, “Yeah, but ‘s’kinda awesome too,” he mumbled, still stroking them together.
“Yeah,” Dean said unconsciously, too busy watching Sam’s mouth, finally glancing down to see where their bodies were connected.
He groaned and buried his face against Sam’s chest.
“God, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he mumbled against the flushed skin.
“Pretty sure God’s got nothing to do with it,” Sam grinned, releasing his hold and slipping his hand around and up Dean’s back.
Dean just laughed and looked back up at him, kissing him softly.
“What?” Sam asked, a little unnerved by the way Dean was staring at him.
“Nothing,” Dean grinned, soft and slow before sitting back on his knees and shifting down the bed.
“Dean?” Sam asked quietly, sitting up enough to lean on his elbows.
“Let me Sammy?” Dean whispered, body bowing over Sam’s as he took his length back into his hand.
“You don’t have to...”
“I know,” Dean said softly, leaning forward and kissing the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit.
Sam groaned and held Dean’s eyes as Dean slowly sank down, taking as much as he could into his mouth, before choking.
“Jesus Dean,” Sam hissed, running his fingers through his short hair, “You seriously don’t have to.”
“’S’alright, just outta practice,” Dean winked.
“That’s not funny.”
Dean chuckled and slowly mouthed at the smooth heat before slowly sucking on the tip again, only taking as much as he could this time, and stroking slow with his hand what he couldn’t.
“Jesus,” hissed Sam, head thumping back against the pillow as he tried not to buck into the slick heat, the heavy weight of Dean’s hand keeping his hips pinned to the bed.
Dean pulled off slow, releasing Sam with an obscene pop.
“Pretty sure Jesus doesn’t have anything to do with it either,” Dean grinned, lips swollen and slick with spit.
Sam glared half-heartedly. “Fuck you.”
“Want to?” Dean asked quietly, still stroking Sam, running his hand down to cup the heavy weight of his balls before glancing up at him from under is lashes.
Sam’s chest went tight, he knew Dean would let him. Dean would let him do anything.
“No,” Sam answered just as quietly, “Want you to.”
“Sam,” Dean mumbled, sitting back on his thighs as Sam sat up in front him. “I’ve done this before...kinda, I mean...I don’t care if I’m the one...”
“Dean,” Sam whispered, shutting him up with a kiss, “I want you to. I wanna feel you,” he mumbled, tongue tangling with Dean’s and his hand dragging down the line of his chest, fingers catching and tugging on the leather cord of Dean’s necklace.
He rolled the little brass figure between his fingers, breaking the kiss to glance down at the pendant in his hand before glancing back up at Dean.
Dean slid his hand over the side of Sam’s head, slotting his fingers up into his hair.
“Okay Sammy,” he whispered.
He shifted, tried to get his feet out from under him so he could grab the bottle of Astroglide he kept in his duffle but the sheets had been tangled from all their twisting and shifting and next thing he knew he was slipping off the bed and landing hard on his ass.
“Son of a bitch!” he grunted, his head thumping back against the carpet, laughing at the ridiculous mess he made.
“Think it’s a sign?” he mumbled, glancing up at Sam with a smirk.
“Of what?”
“That this is going to end in disaster and we should stop?”
Dean was still grinning and clearly joking but Sam snaked his arm around and grabbed his ankle anyways from where it was still halfway tangled in the bed sheet.
“Oh no you don’t, you are not fucking leaving me with blue balls,” he grinned, yanking against Dean’s weight.
“Ow! You asshole!” Dean cursed, pulling back against Sam’s ridiculous grip. “I’m gonna get rug burn on my ass!” he laughed, striking out at Sam with his free foot and managing to land a blow to Sam’s solar plexus.
“Mother fuck!” Sam hissed, releasing Dean’s foot and flopping back onto the bed.
Dean chuckled and twisted over, digging his hand into the little side pocket on his duffle and returning to the bed with the small bottle in his hand.
“Sorry Sammy,” he whispered, starting at his navel and trailing a string of kisses up his body and over his hand where it was still rubbing the red imprint of Dean’s heel. “Know I would never hurt you,” he mumbled, finally returning to Sam’s mouth and stealing away any thought Sam had of retaliation.
Sam chuckled deep in his chest and abandoned rubbing at the bruise in favor of threading his fingers through Dean’s hair.
“We’re such a mess,” he grinned against Dean’s mouth.
“I kinda like us that way,” Dean smiled back.
“Yeah,” Sam sighed, eyes going soft as Dean slid his hand, warm and wide across his stomach.
Sam reached for Dean’s other hand, uncurling his fingers and taking the bottle of lube from him, snapping the cap open and then taking Dean’s hand in his and squeezing out some of the cool gel onto his fingers.
Dean just watched Sam’s face the whole time, swallowing hard when Sam finally met his eyes again.
He slid his own hands back into Dean’s hair and pulled him back into a kiss.
He could feel Dean sigh, his chest pressing against his own as it expanded before Dean trailed one finger, the lube still cool, down the underside of his cock.
Sam inhaled sharp and Dean’s eyes popped open, instantly locked with his.
“’S’alright, jus’ cold,” Sam grinned and Dean smirked back, rubbing his fingers together in an effort to heat them up before cupping the weight of Sam’s balls in his palm, barely grazing one fingertip over the ring of muscle.
His eyes skittered over Sam’s face, taking in every twitch and nuance, slowly stroking back and forth with the barest pressure until Sam was pushing down onto his hand.
“Fuck, come on Dean,” he whispered, one hand clawed into the meat of Dean’s chest while he shivered under his touch.
Dean kissed him softly finally slipping his finger inside that tight heat, pushing in and out in easy, smooth motion.
“Fuckin’ hell Sammy...” he breathed, glancing down to watch where they touched.
Again he glanced up at Sam as he smeared a little more of the lube around and added a second finger.
“Dean...”
“Alright, alright,” he whispered, shifting so that he was braced above Sam. He closed his eyes and just inhaled deep until Sam’s warm hand slid down his stomach and wrapped around the base of his cock.
“C’mere.”
Dean leaned forward and kissed him again, positioning himself against Sam and pushing slightly.
Sam inhaled and rocked his forehead against Dean’s, willing his body to relax.
Slowly Dean sunk in, inch by inch until he was fully seated in Sam, in Sam.
“Sammy,” he said quietly, kissing him again. “Dunno if I can last...” he mumbled, the flush from his neck spreading up to his cheeks.
“’S’okay Dean, ‘s’okay...” he rambled.
Dean closed his eyes and pulled out just enough to rock back into the tight heat. Sam moaned underneath him and he opened his eyes again to watch the way Sam’s neck corded when he threw his head back. The way his chest swelled every time Dean slid into him.
“Dean,” Sam whispered, reopening his own eyes and locking with Dean’s.
“I know,” Dean answered quietly, “I know,” he sighed leaning forward to kiss him again.
They rocked together slow and sure, Sam pushing back against Dean just as much as Dean pushed into him. Sam moaned when Dean drug out slow and there was an added spark of pleasure, wrapping his leg around Dean’s hip and dragging him back inside.
“Want this too Sammy,” Dean mumbled, grazing kisses down Sam’s neck, “Wanna feel you inside me like this too.”
Sam strangled a sob in his throat and raked his fingers across Dean’s shoulders.
“Wanna feel you,” he breathed into Dean’s mouth and that’s all it took. Dean shuddered against him, locking eyes and sharing oxygen and Sam felt him stiffen and shiver, still buried deep inside him.
“Sammy,” he breathed, finally inhaling again, blinking open his eyes as Sam leaned back into the pillows.
Dean went to shift and Sam locked his leg tighter around him.
“No, just like this.”
Dean nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again as he reached between them and brought Sam back to hardness with the heat of his hand, rocking ever so slightly into him, making sure he could still feel Dean deep inside.
Sam moaned, thrusting up into Dean’s hand, it didn’t take long before the warmth washed across Dean’s knuckles.
They both laid there together, foreheads pressed together, catching their breath.
“Wanna take a shower, or just clean up?”
“Shower in the mornin,’” Sam mumbled, running his hand down Dean’s arm.
Dean chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Ready?”
Sam blinked his eyes open and stared for a second before he realized what Dean was asking.
Finally he nodded, closing his eyes as Dean pulled out slowly.
He heard the water run in the bathroom and Dean reappeared a moment later with a warm washcloth, taking care in wiping down Sam’s stomach and gently between his legs.
He looked up to see Sam watching him with a soft smile on his face and just smirked and went back to the bathroom to clean himself.
Sam moaned quietly when Dean slipped in beside him and pulled the blanket up over them. He shifted onto his stomach and propped his head on the pillow so he could look at Dean from the side.
Dean chuckled, running his hand up and down where Sam’s arm was flung across his stomach until Sam reached out and snagged his fingers in his.
“Dude,” Dean smirked, “holding hands? Seriously?”
Sam grinned and bent Dean’s fingers back sharply and Dean yelped instantly pushing back against him, reaching over and tickling Sam’s side with his other hand when Sam wouldn’t let him go.
“You bastard,” he grinned, turning to follow where Sam was trying to twist after him.
Sam laughed and pushed against his chest. “Alright, alright, mercy” he grinned, letting up on the pressure he had on Dean’s fingers but still not letting go.
Dean rolled his eyes and settled back, looking down at Sam with a fond smile when Sam draped himself half across him.
“Dude...I do not cuddle!”
Sam just rolled his eyes and threw his leg over Dean’s.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself man, we’ve been cuddling for months.”
There was a suspicious moment of silence before Dean mumbled, “Yeah, well, you tell anyone and I’ll have to kill you.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sam mumbled, “How you gonna bring me back this time?” he smirked, tilting his head to look up at Dean.
“Shut up...bitch,” Dean grinned.
“Jerk,” Sam whispered, pulling Dean into a kiss, which to this day was still the easiest way he had found to shut him up.
original manip by mkitty3, used with permission
Previous: Chapter Three
Chapter 4
Chapter Wordcount: 5469
Sam looked up from where he had been leafing through their dad’s journal, one leg propped up on his knee and the laptop open in front of him, its screensaver flowing endlessly on.
Dean nudged the motel room door closed with his foot, too busy wiping the grease off his hands with what used to be an old t-shirt.
“Oil’s changed and she’s greased,” he smiled, teeth blindingly white through the grime on his face. “But if we don’t have any other pressing matters I wanna head up to Bobby’s.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just getting time to do some regular maintenance that I can’t do in a parking lot.”
Sam nodded, “I still don’t understand how you can get so filthy doing something as simple as changing oil,” he said, grinning at Dean.
“What can I say Sammy, I like bein’ dirty,” Dean shot back, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself.
At least until Dean bent down to give him a kiss, Sam automatically turning his own face up on reflex, meeting Dean’s lips in a slow kiss.
Right when he was relaxed and boneless under Dean’s mouth, still somewhat unused to being able to have that kind of comfort and affection even after all this time, Dean grabbed his face in both hands, dragging his black fingers down his cheeks before laughing hysterically and bolting for the bathroom door.
“Oh my god! I’m gonna kill you!” Sam shouted, jumping up from his seat but being thwarted by the bathroom door slamming shut in his face, Dean’s laughter muffled through the cheap plywood.
“Just you wait!” Sam yelled, pounding in the door with his fist, smiling despite himself.
He walked over to the cracked mirror above the dingy dresser and groaned quietly, seeing the impromptu war paint all over his face.
Slowly he grinned and went and grabbed Dean’s favorite flannel from his duffle bag before going back to the mirror to wipe most of the black grit from his face, quietly replacing the shirt back where it came from when he was done.
Dean was outside, buried beneath the car when Sam took out a couple ice cold beers.
There was a ridiculous heat wave sweeping through and despite it being the middle of October it was still in the nineties during the day, and yes, Bobby had checked to make sure it was just a normal weather anomaly.
Sam stepped over and straddled Dean’s hips, smiling when Dean went on oblivious, cursing about something as Sam heard the socket wrench clang against metal.
He tipped the beer bottle until a drop of cold condensation rolled around the round bottom and dripped down onto the swath of skin above Dean’s belt, where his t-shirt had ridden up from twisting around on the creeper.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean jolted, something banging the underside of the car again before he yanked himself out from underneath the car, the creeper grating over the old concrete until he was glaring up at Sam’s ridiculously tall frame still standing astride him.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.
Sam rolled his eyes, smiled to himself and then squatted down, hovering over Dean’s chest.
“Whatever, I have cold beer, you know that’s instant forgiveness.”
Dean glared but took the offered bottle anyways.
“You wanna ease up on the personal space intrusion?”
Sam rolled his eyes, again, but moved to crouch down in front of the bumper.
“Like we have anything resembling personal space anymore.”
“Dude, Bobby...you know I’m fine with what we got, but it ain’t exactly orthodox. Bobby’ll tolerate a lot, but I dunno ‘bout this.”
“Bobby’s out front grilling burgers.”
“Yeah?” Dean asked, slight hopeful tinge to his voice.
“Yeah,” Sam grinned back, leaning in and planting his hand beside Dean’s head on the sun-hot metal of the chrome bumper.
Dean smirked back, draping his arm across his knee, bottle hanging loosely from his grease-grey fingers. He was about to lean in until he saw a movement from the house.
Movement that happened to be Bobby walking by the kitchen window, Dean saw him hesitate right past the window’s frame, only to take one step backwards in order to look out the grimy glass.
Dean reached out and shoved Sam’s shoulder, sending him sprawling out over the ground and spilling his beer all over the thirsty concrete.
“Dude! What the hell was that for?!”
“Bobby’s at the window,” Dean hissed, shoving his own bottle at Sam as a silent peace offering before ducking back under the shade of the Impala.
He heard Sam wiping his hands off on his jeans, obviously aggravated and swept his foot to the side until it collided with Sam’s boot.
“Look man,” he mumbled from under the car, “I know this sucks, we’ve both gotten used to...whatever it is we’re doing, but I just don’t feel right doing it at Bobby’s alright?”
“Yeah, I know,” Sam sighed, taking Dean’s words for the apology they were meant to be.
“Soon as I’m done with our girl here we’ll find somewhere to go and it’ll be back to normal.”
Sam smiled and nodded, despite the fact that Dean couldn’t see him and knocked his boot back against Dean’s.
They found somewhere to go alright. One of Bobby’s contacts called him, asking him if he knew anyone that could take a case in Tennessee. Kids were being picked off and Bobby had barely been done explaining it to them when Dean was throwing their bags back into the car.
They left early morning, drove through the day and were running on sugar and caffeine to hunt down the evil bastard that night.
Sam didn’t remember much of his shower, convinced he had slept through it, only thing he was concerned with now were the four steps it would take him to faceplant into the soft mattress, which in actuality was just as crappy as every other motel bed in existence, but damn did it look inviting.
He groaned into the pillow, splayed wide on top of the sheets and mumbled something that even he didn’t understand when Dean told him not to suffocate while he took his own shower.
Dean must have taken a speed shower, or else Sam had fallen asleep and lost time again, which was entirely possible, because it seemed like mere seconds later when he felt the mattress dip under Dean’s weight.
Dean chuckled quietly, he was beat himself, but seeing Sam so completely out of it was hilarious. He pushed the heel of his hand into the soft muscle and ran it up the line of Sam’s spine, smiling when Sam sighed and melted under the touch like a cat.
“Oh god Dean...”
He chuckled again, reaching behind himself to shut off the light before draping himself across Sam’s back.
Again Sam sighed, content and warm under Dean’s bulk, shifting back against him slightly and tangling his fingers awkwardly with where Dean’s hand had snaked under his chest.
“Mmm,” Dean hummed. “Missed this,” he finished quietly, planting a soft kiss on Sam’s shoulder blade.
Sam squeezed his fingers. “Me too,” he mumbled.
A week at Bobby’s unable to do much more than steal a quick kiss here or there had been more frustrating than he thought it would have been. He was just too tired at the moment to think too hard about it and merely melted into sleep, safe and warm, wrapped up in Dean.
Dean laughed, watching Sam skillfully almost miss the left pocket of the pool table. He shook his head and headed to the bar as he heard Sam laughing and talking smack with the guys at the table.
They were decent guys, a gruff mix of truck drivers, bikers and all around blue collar hard workers. They weren’t hustling them, didn’t rip off the honest folk unless they had no choice, but it was still fun, still good to sharpen the skills while kicked back and relaxing for once.
Dean had been shamelessly flirting with the bartender all night. Cute little thing with brunette curls wrapped up in a black tank top, thigh-less jeans and cowboy boots. She grinned and chuckled at his ridiculous smile and wink before heading over to serve him.
“’Nother round?”
“Yup,” he grinned, eyeing her ass as she collected the mix and match set of labels for all the boys at the table.
“Gotta say, don’t get many people in here that can actually beat Billy at his own game,” she grinned, snapping caps off one at a time.
“We travel a lot, practically live in bars,” he shrugged.
“Uh huh, we’ll you’ve got an hour left before I have to kick you out of your home sweet home,” she smiled, “unless of course you wanna stick around after close,” she finished, shooting him a look from under her lashes that there was no mistaking.
Dean froze, drug his bottom lip through his teeth, eyes half squinted. “Is that right...” he drawled.
“Yo! Dean!” one of the guys called from the table. Holding up his empty beer bottle and waving it in the air when Dean turned to look over his shoulder.
Dean grinned and then caught Sam’s eye, he was sitting on a barstool draining the last of his own beer and smirked, slight tilt of his lips that told Dean he knew exactly what was keeping him. Then he tilted his eyebrow up in a silent question of whether Dean wanted him to head back alone or not.
“You know,” Dean said, turning back to the bar, “I’d love to, really, but I can’t, I’m kinda...taken,” he finished, a bit surprised by his own answer.
“No problem,” she shrugged, grinning, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Certainly can’t,” he grinned back, flirting back even easier now that it was all just for fun.
She finally laughed and let him leave when the guys started cat calling and bitching about their missing beer.
“Alright, alright, shut up,” he grinned, handing out their respective bottles and taking their shit talking about the girl.
He smiled, taking his seat beside Sam and taking a pull from his own bottle.
“Swing and a miss?”
“Psht, please,” he said, shooting Sam a look from the side, “Dean Winchester don’t miss.”
Sam laughed, shaking his head and turned back to watch the pool game.
“You about ready to get out of here?” Dean asked a few minutes later, after last call.
“Sure,” Sam said slowly, saying bye to the guys before following Dean out to the Impala, sitting cool and black under a blacker sky.
“You’re not gonna stick around?” he asked, boots crunching through the gravel parking lot as they made their way to the car.
“Nah,” Dean said, shrugging and focusing on the keys in his hand. “Told her I was taken,” he finished quietly, standing beside the driver’s door.
Sam’s hand froze on his own handle, staring across the roof at Dean.
“Are you?” he asked quietly, swallowing hard against the sudden tightness in his throat.
Dean’s eyes finally came up to meet his, “Maybe,” he said quietly, holding his gaze for a minute before finally looking away and getting into the car.
Sam held on to the arm rest the entire, albeit short, ride back to the motel, shooting glances over at Dean every minute or two.
Dean of course noticed them all and just progressively tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles were bloodless white.
He wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to play out. Hell, he wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted it to play out.
He still wasn’t sure why he did what he did, said what he had.
Sure, he and Sam had been way closer than any brothers had a right to be ever since he came back and sure they crossed some pretty taboo lines, but it just...wasn’t that big a deal, not to them. But this...
There was no denying the crackling tension in the car. It hadn’t been this thick between them since they started whatever the hell this was. The touches and smiles had come easier and easier as time had gone on and now it was like a wall had slammed down between them and they were both grasping onto their side of the car hesitant and nervous to cross that see through line down the middle of the seat.
Neither of them broke the silence until they were back at the motel, the door clicked hesitantly shut behind them.
“Dean...”
“I dunno, okay?” Dean cut him off, rubbing a shaking hand down his face before collapsing on the foot of the bed, dropping his face into his hands just so he wouldn’t have to meet Sam’s eyes.
He could hear Sam pull out one of the little chairs from the small dinette, scraping across the thin carpet and the soft creak as Sam settled into it, in front of and just barely to the left of where Dean was sitting.
He felt the slight weight of Sam’s boot settling next to his, barest touch and heaved a sigh.
“I dunno, she asked and I just...” he trailed off, finally dropping his hands to stare at the place where leather met rubber, point of connection between them. “I didn’t wanna leave you,” he finished quietly.
“Wouldn’t be the first time either of us has been with someone since...” Sam said just as quietly, finishing with a wave of his hand in the space between them, one gesture encompassing this giant thing between them.
“I know,” Dean whispered, “I know and I just...I dunno,” he whispered, finally looking up to make eye contact for a brief moment before averting his eyes again. “It’s not even like I’ve thought about it, I mean yeah, we’re you know, close, but I hadn’t, I never...”
“Me either,” Sam said softly, “That’s not what this is...or was.”
“Sam,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes and dropping his head towards the floor again.
“It’s okay,” Sam said quietly, leaning forward, bridging that gap between them. “I hadn’t thought about it either, until now at least, but well...I’m not as freaked out as I prolly should be. I mean...this is us we’re talking about, there’s nothing that could...Dean,” he said, voice breaking over the name.
“I know,” he answered quietly, finally meeting Sam’s gaze and holding it, leaning his foot into the pressure of where Sam’s rested.
“It’s us, we started all this for...to show...”
“I know,” Dean smirked, love clear in his eyes, amused Sam was having just as hard a time with words as he was.
“Is this really that much more?”
“Sam,” he sighed, “Jesus Sam, this is like...a big deal.”
“To us? In this life?” he paused. “We’re never gonna have this with anyone else, you know that. Would it be such a bad thing? After everything we’ve been through?”
“That makes it all okay?”
“Maybe not to everyone else, no. But seriously. There’s no out of this life, we both know that, even if we ‘retire’ we’re gonna end up like Bobby with our finger’s still in the cookie jar. There’s never gonna be picket fences for us, maybe chain link with razor wire on top,” he smirked.
Dean smirked too, wringing his fingers together.
“And I for one am never letting you go,” he added in a whisper.
“Sammy...”
“I know, I’m not saying I’m not hesitant about this, but I can’t really see any downsides either, besides the obvious not going public with it thing. But then again, we’ve basically been dealing with that all along.”
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He had promised Sam no walls and if Sam ever figured some way to drag it out of him he wouldn’t deny that he loved what they had, where they were at. Sure it was twisted and wrong on certain levels, to some people at least, be had never felt more connected, closer to his brother, to the only thing he had left in his life than when they were curled up in bed after a hunt just sharing oxygen.
Sam knew that Dean would never make a move until he was 110% sure that Sam was okay with it. That’s how this whole thing started, Sam pretty much had to instigate everything, reassure Dean that he was okay with it, wanted it.
And yeah, this next step was big, huge, but it was them, there wasn’t one other person in Sam’s life that was so ingrained into who and what he was. Dean was his life, no way around it, Hell had found that out the hard way.
He reached forward slowly and laid his hand on Dean’s knee, feeling Dean freeze under the touch.
Slowly he slid it up, not pushing any lines yet, just moving the warmth up over the swell of Dean’s thigh.
“Sam,” Dean sighed.
“It’s okay,” Sam whispered, moving to sit on the bed next to Dean. “I don’t wanna push you, why don’t we just...act like normal, see where it goes.”
“Jesus,” Dean hissed, letting Sam nuzzle up under his jaw, turning into the soft touch until Sam’s lips closed over his.
This he knew, this he was used to but this time it was accompanied by a low thrum of heat that started in the depth of his chest and he knew was spreading a flush up his neck.
“It’s just me,” Sam whispered, pulling Dean with his mouth until they were side by side stretched out on the bed.
Sam could practically feel Dean melt under his hands, the moment when Dean let it all go and fell into wherever this went.
He eased himself up over Sam, taking his weight on his knees, keeping the connection with their lips. He sighed against Sam’s mouth before slowly moving, dragging his lips over the burn of stubble and trailing kisses along Sam’s jaw line.
Sam sighed against him, tilting his head to allow Dean more room to work. He curled his fingers in Dean’s worn-soft t-shirt and tugged it upwards awkwardly.
Dean just started laughing softly, burying his face in the crook of Sam’s shoulder.
Sam laughed too, sliding his hand up into Dean’s hair.
“I know,” Sam said quietly, “This is so weird.”
“You wanna stop?” Dean asked, sitting up to look at Sam.
“No...I don’t.”
Dean just swallowed hard and nodded, reaching behind him and yanking the t-shirt over his head. He started to lean back down when Sam placed his hand on his chest and sat up enough to take off his own shirt.
“We really doing this?” Dean whispered.
Sam didn’t answer, just leaned forward and sucked the skin where the circle of Dean’s tattoo sat over his heart.
Dean sighed again, wrapping his fingers in Sam’s hair.
“Let me Sam,” he whispered, pushing him back down onto the bed. Sam recognized that look in his eyes, the look that said Dean needed to take care of him. He had this drive, this mission burned into his blood to take care of Sam and while sometimes it infuriated him, he wasn’t a kid anymore, sometimes it was still nice to let go, to let Dean take care of everything, it felt good to have a love and devotion that powerful all pointed straight at him.
Sam leaned back and trembled under Dean’s lips.
Dean nibbled his way down Sam’s neck, leaving the skin over his collarbone flushed and red before swirling his tongue down and around Sam’s nipple, shivering under Sam’s hands when he felt Sam’s chest inhale shakily.
He placed his own soft kiss against Sam’s twin tattoo before sitting up and holding Sam’s eyes, his trembling fingers fumbled to unbutton his jeans before slowly pulling them off Sam’s mile long legs.
“Dean,” Sam whispered, holding his hand out and prompting Dean to crawl back over him.
Dean eased his way up and kissed Sam, slow and deep, like they did almost every night. Sam reached between them and unbuttoned Dean’s jeans, slipping his fingers under the waistband and up around to the hollow of Dean’s back.
Dean broke the kiss, inhaling deep and rolled his forehead against Sam’s, eyes closed against the emotion.
“Don’t really have a lot of practice at this,” Dean whispered, fingers hesitantly wrapping around the heat between Sam’s legs.
“Neither do I,” Sam mumbled, kissing Dean again, “Somehow I think we’ll be okay,” he grinned.
Dean smiled too, slowly stroking him to hardness, watching the way Sam’s pupils dilated in the low light.
“Talk to me Sammy,” he whispered, brushing his lips over his brother’s.
“’S’good,” Sam mumbled, nipping at Dean’s full bottom lip, slipping his thumb into one of Dean’s belt loops and dragging the denim down over one hip.
“Alright,” Dean mumbled, completely enamored with watching the way Sam slipped in and out of his fist before sitting up, dragging that same hand over his mouth before standing and shucking off his jeans.
Sam just groaned and pulled him back down against him, skin slick and flushed hot, kissing Dean again, hand snaking between them to return the favor.
Dean groaned, deep and low in his chest, burying his face in Sam’s neck and sucking a bruise into the soft skin as Sam squeezed tighter.
Sam fumbled for a moment before wrapping his hand around both of them, hot press of skin in his palm and Dean groaned shifting so he could rest his forehead against Sam’s again and huffed out a laugh.
“What?” Sam said quietly.
“Kinda weird,” Dean smiled, eyelashes sticking together.
Sam grinned, “Yeah, but ‘s’kinda awesome too,” he mumbled, still stroking them together.
“Yeah,” Dean said unconsciously, too busy watching Sam’s mouth, finally glancing down to see where their bodies were connected.
He groaned and buried his face against Sam’s chest.
“God, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he mumbled against the flushed skin.
“Pretty sure God’s got nothing to do with it,” Sam grinned, releasing his hold and slipping his hand around and up Dean’s back.
Dean just laughed and looked back up at him, kissing him softly.
“What?” Sam asked, a little unnerved by the way Dean was staring at him.
“Nothing,” Dean grinned, soft and slow before sitting back on his knees and shifting down the bed.
“Dean?” Sam asked quietly, sitting up enough to lean on his elbows.
“Let me Sammy?” Dean whispered, body bowing over Sam’s as he took his length back into his hand.
“You don’t have to...”
“I know,” Dean said softly, leaning forward and kissing the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit.
Sam groaned and held Dean’s eyes as Dean slowly sank down, taking as much as he could into his mouth, before choking.
“Jesus Dean,” Sam hissed, running his fingers through his short hair, “You seriously don’t have to.”
“’S’alright, just outta practice,” Dean winked.
“That’s not funny.”
Dean chuckled and slowly mouthed at the smooth heat before slowly sucking on the tip again, only taking as much as he could this time, and stroking slow with his hand what he couldn’t.
“Jesus,” hissed Sam, head thumping back against the pillow as he tried not to buck into the slick heat, the heavy weight of Dean’s hand keeping his hips pinned to the bed.
Dean pulled off slow, releasing Sam with an obscene pop.
“Pretty sure Jesus doesn’t have anything to do with it either,” Dean grinned, lips swollen and slick with spit.
Sam glared half-heartedly. “Fuck you.”
“Want to?” Dean asked quietly, still stroking Sam, running his hand down to cup the heavy weight of his balls before glancing up at him from under is lashes.
Sam’s chest went tight, he knew Dean would let him. Dean would let him do anything.
“No,” Sam answered just as quietly, “Want you to.”
“Sam,” Dean mumbled, sitting back on his thighs as Sam sat up in front him. “I’ve done this before...kinda, I mean...I don’t care if I’m the one...”
“Dean,” Sam whispered, shutting him up with a kiss, “I want you to. I wanna feel you,” he mumbled, tongue tangling with Dean’s and his hand dragging down the line of his chest, fingers catching and tugging on the leather cord of Dean’s necklace.
He rolled the little brass figure between his fingers, breaking the kiss to glance down at the pendant in his hand before glancing back up at Dean.
Dean slid his hand over the side of Sam’s head, slotting his fingers up into his hair.
“Okay Sammy,” he whispered.
He shifted, tried to get his feet out from under him so he could grab the bottle of Astroglide he kept in his duffle but the sheets had been tangled from all their twisting and shifting and next thing he knew he was slipping off the bed and landing hard on his ass.
“Son of a bitch!” he grunted, his head thumping back against the carpet, laughing at the ridiculous mess he made.
“Think it’s a sign?” he mumbled, glancing up at Sam with a smirk.
“Of what?”
“That this is going to end in disaster and we should stop?”
Dean was still grinning and clearly joking but Sam snaked his arm around and grabbed his ankle anyways from where it was still halfway tangled in the bed sheet.
“Oh no you don’t, you are not fucking leaving me with blue balls,” he grinned, yanking against Dean’s weight.
“Ow! You asshole!” Dean cursed, pulling back against Sam’s ridiculous grip. “I’m gonna get rug burn on my ass!” he laughed, striking out at Sam with his free foot and managing to land a blow to Sam’s solar plexus.
“Mother fuck!” Sam hissed, releasing Dean’s foot and flopping back onto the bed.
Dean chuckled and twisted over, digging his hand into the little side pocket on his duffle and returning to the bed with the small bottle in his hand.
“Sorry Sammy,” he whispered, starting at his navel and trailing a string of kisses up his body and over his hand where it was still rubbing the red imprint of Dean’s heel. “Know I would never hurt you,” he mumbled, finally returning to Sam’s mouth and stealing away any thought Sam had of retaliation.
Sam chuckled deep in his chest and abandoned rubbing at the bruise in favor of threading his fingers through Dean’s hair.
“We’re such a mess,” he grinned against Dean’s mouth.
“I kinda like us that way,” Dean smiled back.
“Yeah,” Sam sighed, eyes going soft as Dean slid his hand, warm and wide across his stomach.
Sam reached for Dean’s other hand, uncurling his fingers and taking the bottle of lube from him, snapping the cap open and then taking Dean’s hand in his and squeezing out some of the cool gel onto his fingers.
Dean just watched Sam’s face the whole time, swallowing hard when Sam finally met his eyes again.
He slid his own hands back into Dean’s hair and pulled him back into a kiss.
He could feel Dean sigh, his chest pressing against his own as it expanded before Dean trailed one finger, the lube still cool, down the underside of his cock.
Sam inhaled sharp and Dean’s eyes popped open, instantly locked with his.
“’S’alright, jus’ cold,” Sam grinned and Dean smirked back, rubbing his fingers together in an effort to heat them up before cupping the weight of Sam’s balls in his palm, barely grazing one fingertip over the ring of muscle.
His eyes skittered over Sam’s face, taking in every twitch and nuance, slowly stroking back and forth with the barest pressure until Sam was pushing down onto his hand.
“Fuck, come on Dean,” he whispered, one hand clawed into the meat of Dean’s chest while he shivered under his touch.
Dean kissed him softly finally slipping his finger inside that tight heat, pushing in and out in easy, smooth motion.
“Fuckin’ hell Sammy...” he breathed, glancing down to watch where they touched.
Again he glanced up at Sam as he smeared a little more of the lube around and added a second finger.
“Dean...”
“Alright, alright,” he whispered, shifting so that he was braced above Sam. He closed his eyes and just inhaled deep until Sam’s warm hand slid down his stomach and wrapped around the base of his cock.
“C’mere.”
Dean leaned forward and kissed him again, positioning himself against Sam and pushing slightly.
Sam inhaled and rocked his forehead against Dean’s, willing his body to relax.
Slowly Dean sunk in, inch by inch until he was fully seated in Sam, in Sam.
“Sammy,” he said quietly, kissing him again. “Dunno if I can last...” he mumbled, the flush from his neck spreading up to his cheeks.
“’S’okay Dean, ‘s’okay...” he rambled.
Dean closed his eyes and pulled out just enough to rock back into the tight heat. Sam moaned underneath him and he opened his eyes again to watch the way Sam’s neck corded when he threw his head back. The way his chest swelled every time Dean slid into him.
“Dean,” Sam whispered, reopening his own eyes and locking with Dean’s.
“I know,” Dean answered quietly, “I know,” he sighed leaning forward to kiss him again.
They rocked together slow and sure, Sam pushing back against Dean just as much as Dean pushed into him. Sam moaned when Dean drug out slow and there was an added spark of pleasure, wrapping his leg around Dean’s hip and dragging him back inside.
“Want this too Sammy,” Dean mumbled, grazing kisses down Sam’s neck, “Wanna feel you inside me like this too.”
Sam strangled a sob in his throat and raked his fingers across Dean’s shoulders.
“Wanna feel you,” he breathed into Dean’s mouth and that’s all it took. Dean shuddered against him, locking eyes and sharing oxygen and Sam felt him stiffen and shiver, still buried deep inside him.
“Sammy,” he breathed, finally inhaling again, blinking open his eyes as Sam leaned back into the pillows.
Dean went to shift and Sam locked his leg tighter around him.
“No, just like this.”
Dean nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again as he reached between them and brought Sam back to hardness with the heat of his hand, rocking ever so slightly into him, making sure he could still feel Dean deep inside.
Sam moaned, thrusting up into Dean’s hand, it didn’t take long before the warmth washed across Dean’s knuckles.
They both laid there together, foreheads pressed together, catching their breath.
“Wanna take a shower, or just clean up?”
“Shower in the mornin,’” Sam mumbled, running his hand down Dean’s arm.
Dean chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Ready?”
Sam blinked his eyes open and stared for a second before he realized what Dean was asking.
Finally he nodded, closing his eyes as Dean pulled out slowly.
He heard the water run in the bathroom and Dean reappeared a moment later with a warm washcloth, taking care in wiping down Sam’s stomach and gently between his legs.
He looked up to see Sam watching him with a soft smile on his face and just smirked and went back to the bathroom to clean himself.
Sam moaned quietly when Dean slipped in beside him and pulled the blanket up over them. He shifted onto his stomach and propped his head on the pillow so he could look at Dean from the side.
Dean chuckled, running his hand up and down where Sam’s arm was flung across his stomach until Sam reached out and snagged his fingers in his.
“Dude,” Dean smirked, “holding hands? Seriously?”
Sam grinned and bent Dean’s fingers back sharply and Dean yelped instantly pushing back against him, reaching over and tickling Sam’s side with his other hand when Sam wouldn’t let him go.
“You bastard,” he grinned, turning to follow where Sam was trying to twist after him.
Sam laughed and pushed against his chest. “Alright, alright, mercy” he grinned, letting up on the pressure he had on Dean’s fingers but still not letting go.
Dean rolled his eyes and settled back, looking down at Sam with a fond smile when Sam draped himself half across him.
“Dude...I do not cuddle!”
Sam just rolled his eyes and threw his leg over Dean’s.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself man, we’ve been cuddling for months.”
There was a suspicious moment of silence before Dean mumbled, “Yeah, well, you tell anyone and I’ll have to kill you.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sam mumbled, “How you gonna bring me back this time?” he smirked, tilting his head to look up at Dean.
“Shut up...bitch,” Dean grinned.
“Jerk,” Sam whispered, pulling Dean into a kiss, which to this day was still the easiest way he had found to shut him up.
original manip by mkitty3, used with permission
Previous: Chapter Three