Desire: A Supernatural Series
Where I Lay My Head is Home
Wolfling and James
Dean pulled out the Apartment Finder's booklet, the newspaper, and the
sheaf of printouts from the library, and tried not to think ungrateful
things about his brother's need to be over-prepared. It was one thing
to know what you were getting into when dealing with something that
might kill you or possess your car, but this was, in Dean's opinion, a
Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home
-Wherever I May Roam - Metallica
"It's that one," Sam said helpfully, leaning
over and pointing out a listing circled in red. "I called ahead, the
landlady should be waiting to show it to us."
"Why couldn't we
just live in the motel?" Dean groused, though he knew perfectly well
what Sam's response to that would be. He pulled the keys out of the
ignition, giving the car a short pat on the dashboard in sheer defiance
of the way Sam always smirked at him when he "fondled" the car.
like he was smirking now, in fact. "An apartment's more secure than a
motel room," Sam said patiently, giving one of a number of reasons he'd
repeated over the last couple of days.
"No, really?" Dean didn't
bother making it sound like he wasn't being sarcastic. "I bet it's
cheaper, too." Not that he'd really argued, but Sam had gone on and on
about all the reasons why they couldn't just live in the motel. For a
few days it didn't matter if they used a fake credit card, but for long
term it had to be real money, which meant real cash.
Sam's full ride would help, but Dean agreed that paying motel rates for
months on end was just stupid.
It wasn't that he really minded living in an apartment. It was the getting
that made him want to drive back to Iowa and help dad clear out a house
of ghosts and not come back until Sam said he'd signed the papers.
Sam sighed. "I know you hate this, Dean. If you really want me to, I
can do it myself..."
"I don't hate it," he said quickly. He'd been fielding Sam's questions
all summer. Dean, do you really mean it. Dean, you don't have to go
with me. Dean, are you sure. He didn't want Sam to think he'd been
lying all those times he'd insisted this was what he wanted to do.
was just so tedious. Why couldn't they just pick one in a good price
range, and be done with it? It was pretty much what he and dad always
did, other than sweep the area with the EMF meter. So why did Sam have
to look at every single available apartment in town? With it being a
college town, and them being here three weeks before the semester
started, that added up to a lot of apartments.
don't like it," Sam countered. He sighed. "Okay, I'll make you a deal
-- we look at the three we were planning on going to today and unless
they're all completely unworkable, we pick one of those. No more
The offer completely surprised him. There were over a
dozen Sam had circled, maybe even two dozen. Dean felt bad about being
quite so obvious about his displeasure. "We can look at more than
three," he said. "We've got plenty of time to find a place."
"If we decide on a place early, then we've got plenty of time for other
things." Sam grinned.
for furniture?" Dean said it with dread in his voice, even if he didn't
actually mind that part. Testing out chairs and sofas they couldn't
possibly afford, lounging in the leather chairs with the massage
"Maybe. We could... test some mattresses."
"In the store?"
Dean acted like he was shocked at the idea. Really, though, his cock
was reminding him that for the last freaking month, dad had been with
them. An entire month. Between Dad staying home with them or
taking them both on hunts, Dean hadn't had Sam alone until two nights
ago, when they'd finally reached the motel here in Palo Alto.
They hadn't got much sleep the last couple of nights.
"Well, maybe not in the store," Sam allowed. "Though... that might be a
unique way of getting a discount."
Dean opened his mouth before he slapped his brain into gear. He knew
ways to get discounts, and pretty damn good ones too, if he said so
himself. Just not out loud, because he really didn't want to deal with
Sam being all sad-puppy-eyed at him.
"Let's go look at this
place before the landlady gives it to someone else," he said, getting
out of the car. All the papers and whatnots slipped to the floorboards.
Sam scrambled over to try and catch the papers before they hit the
floor and got all mixed up. After a moment of trying to reorder them,
he gave up, shooting Dean a glare as he stuffed them in the new
backpack Dad had bought him for school and got out of the car.
"What?" Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, glaring back, not
really sure what bug had crawled up his brother's butt.
those papers," Sam told him, exasperated, but not to the point of using
his growly voice yet. "Unless you're planning on taking this place
"We don't need them in order to look at this
place." Dean was pretty sure they didn't, at any rate. But he decided
not to bother arguing with Sam about it, because otherwise they'd be
standing out here for half an hour and not getting on with finding a
place to live.
From the glare Sam gave him, he thought maybe a
little damage control would do some good, so he walked over and grabbed
his brother's jacket and tugged him in for a quick kiss. Sam stiffened
for a second; neither of them were really used to being able to act
like a couple in public yet. But it only took a second for him to relax
into the kiss, even going so far as to slide a hand behind Dean's neck.
"We gonna go look at this place, sweetheart?"
Dean asked, smirking a little at the look in Sam's eyes. They'd already
agreed that it would be easier to let people assume they were lovers,
not brothers, and Dean had his wallet filled with cards and ID that
said his name was Dean Watkins. They hadn't had any chance to really
test the idea that they could act this way in public, but Dean was
looking forward to getting them both used to it.
As long as Dad didn't show up unannounced.
"Jerk," Sam said, but he said it with a smile. "Come on, we don't want
to keep Mrs. Froson waiting."
Dean let go of Sam and headed towards the front doors to the apartment
building. It was a converted house, a big one, that had been divided
into several apartments. Dean had no idea which one was the empty one,
but the building itself looked welcoming. The lawn out front wasn't
huge, but it was big enough for grass and a flower bed, and the entire
front walk was lined with some kind of scraggly flowering bush.
a lot of places Dean had lived, the paint wasn't peeling, and the
windows looked in good repair. Most of the cars in the little parking
area were cheap and old, but decent enough -- students lived here, he
figured. Which made sense; that was what they were doing here,
Sam led the way inside and to the first apartment on
the right and knocked. The door was immediately opened by a middle aged
woman with salt and pepper hair pulled back into a pony tail and
glasses perched on the end of her nose. Dean smiled automatically,
cheerful and charming. She dimpled back at him, eyes glittering with
"I'm Dean, this is Sam," he said, though he was fairly sure the
introduction wasn't necessary.
"And you're here to look at the apartment," she replied, smiling at
them. "You boys are punctual, I'll give you that."
pretty quiet, too," Dean said, giving her a sincere grin. Not that Sam
had been all that quiet last night, but she didn't need that many
"Let me just get the keys and I'll take you up," she
said, disappearing back inside for a moment and leaving them alone in
"Dude, you're not flirting with her, are you?" Sam asked, turning a
suspicious eye on him.
Surprised, Dean just said, "Of course I'm flirting with her."
"Dean, you can't flirt with our potential landlady!" Sam told him,
keeping his voice low but still dripping with exasperation.
course I can! Dude, if we want the place it'll help if she likes us.
Thinks we're friendly." He grinned, then thought maybe Sam was thinking
something else. He lowered his voice and hissed, "I'm not going to
sleep with her, if that's what you're thinking."
Sam rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something else, but at
that point Mrs. Froson came back, holding up the key.
we are," she said, stepping out into the hallway and closing her
apartment door behind here. "Now you boys just follow me and I'll show
you where it is."
Dean gave her a smile -- deliberately making
it as flirtatious as he could without making any promises he wasn't
going to keep. As she turned to lead them to the apartment, Dean
whacked his brother on the arm.
She led them down the hall and
up two sets of stairs, the first wide and airy, the second set narrow
and steep. At the top of the second set was a door; she put the key
into the lock and turned it.
When she glanced back at them as
she stepped through the door, Dean gave her an innocent, friendly
smile. When her back was turned, he gave Sam a scowl. Not because Sam
was up to anything, but because he was doing his 'I'm the Good Son, See
How Well I Behave' act.
As if anyone who knew Sam for more than...well.. a few years, would
Dean scowled at him harder.
they went up the last few steps, Sam kicked him in the shin. Hard.
"Sorry," he said with a completely unbelievable smile. "Narrow stairs."
least he was acting normally again, Dean thought, even as the pain in
his shin made him wince. But they followed Mrs. Froson into the
apartment like nothing was wrong, and looked around. It was large, and
Dean realised it was a studio: just one large, single room. The kitchen
was stuck in a corner, and two doors on opposite sides of the room were
probably bathroom and closet.
They couldn't even pretend
they weren't sleeping together. Dean glanced over at Sam, wondering if
Sam had bothered checking for this sort of thing when he'd made his
list. Of course, this was Sam so he'd probably not only checked
for that sort of thing but also the entire history of a property going
back to when it was built.
"Appliances come with the place,"
Mrs. Froson was saying, leading them into the kitchen area. "Utilities
and garbage are all included with the rent, you pay your own phone and
cable. Oh, but we do have internet -- there's wifi all through the
house. General rule is no pets, but I've been known to bend it from
time to time."
Dean looked around, and, despite knowing the answer, couldn't help but
ask, "The house ever been haunted?"
"What?" The look she gave him was reassuringly disbelieving.
gave her his most charming and disarming smile. "I've just always been
interested in stuff like that. Spent some time in New Orleans, and
everyone says their homes have ghosts. You know." He shrugged, as
though dismissing the silly things people would believe.
didn't even have to look over at Sam to know what his brother was
thinking. But that was all right; Dean owed him for the bruise on his
Sam had moved away from Dean and the landlady, walking the
length of the place like he was taking its measurements or something.
Which left Dean to chat with the landlady, something he was more than
happy to do. He had no idea what the rent was on this place, but he and
dad had never once actually paid a security deposit since Dean was six
years old and knew what dad meant when he said "look hungry."
ambled towards Mrs. Froson, making it look like his attention was all
on the kitchen and its amenities. He poked and prodded, opened doors
and checked the fridge -- discovering it was actually clean and didn't
smell of anything, which automatically gave the place bonus points.
the while he kept up a steady stream of polite conversation, asking
Mrs. Froson about the neighborhood, the other tenants, the apartment.
Never completely venturing into personal questions, but making it
perfectly clear he was interested in listening to anything she had to
He smiled, and looked at her eyes when she talked, and
looked at the apartment when he asked questions about it. He laughed
when she made a joke, and made a similar one himself, keeping it almost
as clean as her own had been, but just a tiny bit racier.
smiled, and rolled her eyes --- Dean figured she knew what guys were
like, and she clearly didn't mind their antics. As long as they didn't
bring the bloody axes and evil spirits home with them, he amended.
eventually ambled back over to them and worked his own brand of charm
on Mrs. Froson, smiling so his dimple showed and being all yes m'am and
no m'am and just generally giving off an air that seemed to make women
want to take him in and feed him.
Which was perfectly all right
with Dean -- if she popped by with plates of cookies and casseroles and
whatever else, he would be perfectly happy to help Sam eat them. And
even if Sam was a bitch and didn't share, it would still put a dent in
their grocery budget.
Finally they'd seen everything they could
possibly hope to see, and they told her they'd have to think it over.
Had more places to see, and they'd call as soon as they could. Then
they headed back downstairs, and Dean waved goodbye as she watched them
walk back to their car.
"So what did you think?" Sam asked.
think she likes older guys, and would rather adopt us -- she'll feed
you at least once a week if you even look like you might be starving.
She won't offer to help with laundry -- but anything that needs fixing
around the house we can offer to do, and probably get a cut in the
Sam laughed. "I meant about the place, not the landlady,"
he said, bumping hips affectionately as they walked. "Though you're
probably right on all of that."
Grinning at the sound of Sam's laugh, Dean asked, "Did it seem a
he had no opinion one way or another on the apartment itself. It was
clean, had no sign of hauntings, and Sam had already said that the
police reports for the neighborhood were fairly rare. Add to that the
presence of a landlady who would almost definitely feed them, and he
couldn't think of anything bad to say about the place.
that, though," Sam was saying. "Makes it feel like it has more space.
And with all those windows, it's really sunny in there. Cheerful,
y'know?" He grinned at Dean. "Besides, it's not like we're not used to
living in one room. This one just won't be in a motel."
don't think Mrs. Froson will provide us with little bottles of
shampoo?" Dean asked, getting into the car and running his hand across
the steering wheel to say hello.
"Does it matter?" Sam asked
as he climbed into the passenger seat. "You always use that expensive
stuff anyway." He reached over and teasingly ran his fingers through
He jerked his head away from Sam's hand, not
because he didn't love it when Sam touched him, but because if he
didn't, his brother would assume he could just fondle Dean whenever the
hell he wanted.
Which, okay, he could. But Dean was obligated not to make it easy for
him. They might be having sex, but they were still brothers,
and some things took precedence. "I don't use expensive shampoo," he
protested, despite the fact there was no way in hell he could get away
with the assertion.
Sam gave him a 'yeah, right' look. "Dean, you buy it at a salon.
That pretty much defines 'expensive shampoo'."
the only thing that works!" He glared at Sam, knowing that the next
thing would be Sam teasing him about caring what worked for his hair,
much less knowing to find it at a salon.
"Of course it is," Sam fake soothed, not quite hiding his smirk.
took a moment to thump Sam on the arm, hard as he could -- almost. Then
he pulled the Impala out of its parking spot and turned it towards the
road, listening for a moment to the sound of its engine. She was
running good, feeling fine. She wasn't the only one.
rummaged in his backpack and pulled out the papers he'd picked up from
the car floor earlier. "You know where to go?" he asked, as he began
putting them back in order.
"Not a clue," Dean said, just to
rile Sam up. He pulled onto the road going the right direction and
waited to see if Sam would give him directions or a smartass remark.
why you don't toss papers away when you might still need them," Sam
said, speaking as if to a particularly slow child, then in his normal
voice added, "Take a left up here."
"Left where? You sure?" Dean
waited until it was almost too late, then slowed down and took the
turn. Then he flipped Sam off and said, "Then I turn right at the
second light, drive two miles and it's on the left? That's the next
"I'm driving," Dean complained. "No fair you telling me your
kinks while I'm busy driving."
Sam gave him the finger.
sounded out the meaning of the gesture, mouthing the words clearly, but
as though he wasn't quite sure what they meant. Then suddenly he said,
"You want to fuck me?" as though the concept was totally new.
the fact he'd been wanting the same thing for months -- years -- and
wanting to fuck Sam as well. But every time he thought he could do it,
he chickened out. Sam only ever asked if he wanted to, but never
pressed him when Dean said no.
There was silence from the other
side of the car for a long moment. Then Sam finally muttered, "No fair
doing that to me when I'm being righteously annoyed with you."
"Righteously? Righteously? Dude, you have to be right
before you can be righteous. Didn't they teach you anything at that
school of yours?"
"I'm right about you being a jerk."
"Am not." It was the lamest comeback Dean had ever used, but he used it
every so often, just because.
"You're also five."
scowled, hard. "Am not," he said, as sulkily as he could. If he'd had
his brother's ability to pout, he would have done that, as well.
Sam chuckled. "Yeah, and that's really proving it."
Dean gave him a grin, then said in a normal tone of voice, "Then I want
something to suck on."
"No fair telling me your kinks when you're busy driving," Sam parroted
back at him almost primly.
just laughed. He pulled the car through an intersection, then spotted
what looked like the right apartment complex. He drove up, saw the
sign, and pulled over to park beside the curb. "Hey, is this--"
On the other side of the car, Sam whimpered.
looked over at the passenger seat to see Sam staring out the windshield
at the building, though the glazed look in his eyes made Dean doubt he
was actually seeing it. He was also white as a sheet and trembling, as
if there was a current running through him.
thinking about it, Dean scooted over and pulled his brother towards
him, turning Sam's head so he wasn't looking at the building. He tucked
his arms around his brother, and whispered -- anything. It didn't
matter, just reaching out to someone who clearly wasn't really hearing
He knew what it had to be -- a vision, or memory, or
whatever the fuck it was. Dean felt a cold punch to his gut,
remembering the last time Sam had gone so pale. Someone had
died, that time -- himself, he figured. The car crash Sammy refused to
Dean wondered who had died in this apartment building.
It seemed like forever before Sam's arms slid around him in return,
holding tightly as he took a deep, shaky breath.
kept whispering to Sam, reassurances that might or might not be true.
He just kept talking to him, giving Sam something to hold onto that
wasn't...whatever he was seeing inside his head.
nodded and pulled back a little, although to say he was still shaken up
would have been a huge understatement. "Sorry," he said in a raspy
"It's okay," Dean whispered, and he gave Sam a light
kiss. He said it again, brushing his fingers through Sam's hair,
pushing his bangs out of his eyes. He didn't -- couldn't -- stop
touching Sam, running his fingers lightly, rubbing and caressing his
face. He wanted to keep doing it until the pain in his brother's eyes
went completely away, but he was afraid of just how long that would be.
leaned into the touches, eyes fluttering closed, then springing back
open immediately as if he didn't want to see what was behind his
Dean stared at him, catching Sam's eyes. He kept Sam
focused on him, looking at him until some of the panic seemed to dim.
"You okay?" he asked, knowing that the answer couldn't really be 'yes.'
"I...uh..." Sam gave a little half laugh, though it was as far from
amused as it could be. "I'm not sure."
"What do you need?"
Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before saying, "Away
Dean nodded; it made sense, if whatever vision Sam had was triggered by
the apartment building, or one of the ones nearby. Dean sat back in the
seat and pulled away from the curb as quickly as he could. He had no
idea where to go, but figured 'away' would be good enough.
seemed to be because after a few minutes, Sam seemed to relax a little,
leaning back against the seat wearily. "Guess I don't have to tell you
I had another vision flash, huh?"
"I thought as much," Dean said, gently. "Seemed like a pretty bad one,
Sam gave another of those half laughs. "Yeah, you could say that." He
paused. "I lived there. Or would have lived there."
took Dean a moment to figure that one out -- he knew Sam had remembered
his future, or possible future, or... well, that part of the whole
thing didn't exactly make sense to Dean. But he realised what Sam was
talking about before he said anything stupid.
He wasn't really sure what to say, though. He settled for
reaching over and squeezing his brother's shoulder, trying for soothing.
"You remember that blonde I told you about? That I saw in the flashes
about college?" Sam asked, staring out the windshield.
There hadn't been much about her -- Dean knew she'd been Sam's
girlfriend, and that it had apparently been serious. In all the times
they'd talked about plans for moving to Palo Alto, for Sam to attend
Stanford, he'd never mentioned finding her. Dean had figured it was
because, well, he and Sam were together. But apparently there was more.
"She died there." Sam's voice dropped down to barely a whisper as he
added, "Like Mom."
Dean gripped the steering wheel, hard, and concentrated on not driving
into oncoming traffic. "The fuck?"
He almost continued shouting, demanding to know why he hadn't shared
that piece of information before. But he knew his brother didn't always
get everything from his visions the first time. Maybe he hadn't
remembered until now.
Still. Dean took a deep breath and found a
parking lot, some suburban strip mall thing, and he pulled into it and
parked. Sam was staring out the windshield, sitting unnaturally still
aside from a muscle twitching in his jaw. He looked terrified but was
trying to hide it.
Dean turned to him, pulling one knee up on
the benchseat and wanting...he didn't know what. To pull Sam towards
him and tell him it wasn't real.
There was no way he could say that.
He swallowed, and asked, "When you say like mom, you mean... the demon?"
was on the ceiling." Sam wouldn't look at him, still hadn't moved at
all. "I was lying on the bed and something dripped on me and I opened
my eyes and she was on the ceiling."
Dean didn't remember much
about the night mom died. He hadn't seen anything except flames and his
dad putting Sam into his arms, then he'd run, gripped with the fear
that he would trip on the stairs and drop his baby brother and break
him -- then it was all outside and the fire trucks and dad saying
things about mom that didn't make any sense.
But he knew what
had happened. And what Sam was saying was exactly what dad had
described. He reached out and grabbed Sam's collar and yanked him over,
scooting forward to catch him. Sam clung to him like his sanity
depended on it. This close Dean could feel how he was trembling with
barely controlled fear.
The bitch of it was, there was nothing
Dean could say to make it better. They'd been hunting the demon
practically all their lives, and yet Dean had no clue how they were
supposed to find and destroy it. Somehow, through the years of hunting,
Dean had let himself think of the demon as something abstract -- a goal
they'd never reach, but also something they'd never again be threatened
"We need to call dad," he said, making a decision.
He felt Sam stiffen. "No."
"What?" Dean pulled back, just enough to look at Sam without letting go
of him. "Sam, he has to know about the demon--"
"No," Sam said again, shaking his head in denial.
Dean said, firmly. He reached up and took hold of Sam's chin, turning
his head to face Dean. It was on the tip of his tongue to say they had
to -- and he was hit with the full impact of the fear in Sam's eyes.
"Sammy, it'll be okay," he said instead.
"It's me. It wasn't just a random... Twice is a pattern. It's because
don't know that," Dean said sharply. "You said yourself you don't get
everything in these visions. How do you know it isn't happening other
places, to other people?" He knew he was grasping at straws. But better
anything than to listen to his brother blame himself for what
the demon had done.
"You think it's just a coincidence?" The disdain dripping from
Sam's voice was sharp enough to cut.
"I think we don't know enough about what the demon wants to be able to
guess," Dean said, trying hard to stay calm. "You were six months
old when mom died. How could you have had anything to do with that?"
was over my crib. Her blood dripped on me. And now... it was the exact
same thing, Dean. The exact. Either it has something to do with me or
I've got the worst luck in the universe."
"So, maybe it has something to do with you -- but that doesn't make it your
fault. It isn't because
of you." Dean wanted to shake his little brother -- shake some sense
into him. But he knew from experience that wouldn't work. "Look, it
won't even matter anyway, because you aren't going to be living with
Dean heard the half-formed thought underneath his
anger. Once Sam met her, things might change. He'd loved her once --
who was to say he wouldn't fall in love again?
"I know that,"
Sam said, and the certainty in his voice went a long way to quiet those
not quite buried fears. "It's not her I'm worried about. If this thing
is really... focused on me, then anyone close to me could be..."
It only took a second for Dean to see where Sam was going. "Then why
hasn't it gone after dad or come after me?"
"Yet." Sam stared out of the window, refusing to look at him.
what has it been waiting for, for eighteen years? How long did you know
this girl, before it...went after her?" He swallowed the word 'killed.'
No need to throw Sam back into that horrible, shocked silence.
"I don't know. Long enough to be living with her. But Dean-"
what? You've been living with me and dad all your life and the demon
hasn't come after either of us. And I'm pretty damn sure we're close."
course, it hadn't been that long since he and Sam had.... If that were
what counted as 'close', then reasonably the demon could be coming
after Dean soon.
"It hasn't come after either of you yet.
At least that we know of. But what if..." Sam trailed off for a second,
and when he continued, he seemed less panicked and more focused. "Dad
knows how to protect against demons -- didn't matter where we were,
most nights we were sleeping behind protective barriers of some kind.
Maybe it hasn't come after you because it can't get to you?"
you have done the same thing for this girl? You were living with her,
Sam. You wouldn't leave yourself open to that kind of an attack."
only meant that the sorts of protections Sam knew -- would have known
-- weren't enough. So whatever Dad did for them, either wasn't enough
and the demon had just never paid them any attention, or... Dean's head
hurt. But, thank god, Sam was talking with him, listening and arguing
back instead of looking like he was about to pass out, or lose his mind.
don't think..." Sam was frowning, his eyes growing distant again as he
searched his mind for something. When he spoke again, there was an air
of sadness, but thankfully not panic. "I don't think I did use
protections," he said softly. "I was trying to be normal.
Normal people don't pour salt over door and window thresholds or draw
protective runes on the floor."
looked at him for a long moment. So much his brother wanted, so much he
was never going to get. Dean knew what being 'normal' meant to Sam. How
often, growing up, Sam had begged, fought, and argued for normal things
that dad couldn't give them.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, because -- he still couldn't have them. He
probably never would.
brought Sam's eyes back to him, looking startled. Then he smiled. It
was small, but a real smile. "You can pretend, but you can't really be
anything but what you are," he said. "It took me a while to figure that
out, y'know," he gestured at his head, meaning in the visions,
"before. But here and now, I get it."
don't want normal, anymore?" Dean wasn't sure he believed it, but --
what kind of person took his brother to bed, and still pretended to be
like regular people?
"I want to find my normal. I'm pretty sure it's not going to be
like anybody else's." He gave Dean a considering look. "Well, maybe
don't have normal," Dean said, without thinking. He put his hand on
Sam's cheek and let himself just look. Sam was calm, now, though he was
still upset -- perfectly reasonably, Dean allowed. But the crisis
seemed to have blown over for now. He brushed his thumb along Sam's
cheek, and wanted nothing more than to just kiss him and forget about
So he did.
Sam made that soft sound he
always made when being kissed was exactly what he needed and pressed
closer. Dean smiled into the kiss, and held his brother.
When Sam pulled back, he closed his eyes and rested his head on Dean's
shoulder. "I'm still scared," he confessed.
wished, fiercely, that he could tell Sam not to be. That the monsters
were just dreams and there was nothing to fear in the dark. "I'm
sorry," he said again, because it simply wasn't fair that anyone,
especially his brother, had to know that evil could strike so close.
Sam nodded without raising his head, the movement brushing his hair
against Dean's neck. "I'm not so scared with you."
then, it's a good thing you've got me," Dean said, lightly. Breezing
through the words like his heart hadn't just clenched and threatened to
stop beating. He sat back in the driver's seat and gave Sam a grin.
"Hey! Del Taco!" He'd spotted the fast food place across the strip mall
and suddenly lunch seemed like a great distraction.
Sam just stared at him. "Now?"
shrugged, realising belatedly that Sam might not be all that interested
in food. But backing down would mean admitting that, which would mean
talking about it more, which would risk making Sam get that look in his
eyes while he remembered seeing his girlfriend die. "Fish tacos," he
said, determinedly. "And you can get a burger."
Sam wrinkled his nose and said distinctly, "Eww."
Dean gave him a hurt look. "Sam, fish tacos. Fish, in a taco
"What part of 'eww' is not getting through?"
With a pleading look, Dean repeated, "Sam, it's fish. In a taco
shell. With salsa and lettuce and a lime and you can get fries!" He had
a pretty good idea how much more he could say before his little brother
turned green and threw up in the car. Close, but not there yet.
"If I throw up, I'm going to aim for you," Sam warned.
throwing up in my car," Dean declared. "Ever. For any reason. You open
the door and jump out at 75, if you have to." He waited, then said,
"Tartar sauce, I bet. The secret sauce on the taco."
ready for a lot of reactions from Sam, but his brother leaning over,
grabbing him by the ears, and kissing him senseless wasn't one of them.
It did shut him up, Dean admitted. It also made him think now was no
time for fish tacos. Well, almost not -- talking about them had made
him hungry. But being kissed like it was the only way to shut him up
was a hell of a lot better than a taco.
When Sam let his mouth go, but not, Dean noticed, any of the rest of
him, Dean asked, "Wanna head back to the motel?"
One side of Sam's mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Yeah."
thought about their plans -- not the second apartment, fuck no, but the
third, and the dozen more Sam had circled.... Dean looked at Sam, and
thought it over. "Do you want to call Mrs. Froson and ask her for the
Sam hesitated for a moment, then nodded and pulled out his cell phone.
Dean drove back to the motel as Sam spoke with Mrs. Froson. She'd
seemed a bit surprised to hear from them so quickly, but agreed to
start the paperwork right away. Dean overheard her mention a credit
check, which seemed to worry Sam for a moment. Dean didn't have a
chance to remind him that 'Sam Winchester' had no credit history at
all, and the only credit history 'Dean Watkins' had was buying gasoline
and motel rooms on a trip to Palo Alto.
They made an
appointment to visit on the following Monday, then it seemed that all
was said and done -- except for Dean mumbling under his breath about
Sam was quiet the rest of the drive back, silently
watching out the window as they drove. He seemed... not distant, but...
contained. As if he were sinking into himself.
decide if that was a good sign, or just Sam dealing with things they
way he usually did -- thinking too much. He debated what he should do,
until they were not far from the motel. Then he glanced over, and saw
the set of Sam's jaw and the way he was simply looking straight ahead.
"Sammy? You ok?" he asked, testing Sam's mood.
Sam nodded, but didn't actually speak.
that left either jostle him out of his thoughts, or leave him to them.
Dean wasn't sure which was better, but given what Sam would be brooding
over, he figured maybe it was better to distract him.
"You've never had a fish taco, have you?"
It worked. Sam turned to look at him with a startled, "What?"
figure, you can't have had one, or you'd realise how good they are."
Dean kept his tone earnest, like thinking about lunch had occupied him
the entire drive back.
"Dean, I don't want a fish taco."
look Sam was giving him was 'Dean, you're insane' -- which meant his
distraction had worked. Except for the fact Dean was really starting to
get hungry now, and he hadn't seen another Del Taco since the one back
at the strip mall.
"Which proves you've never had one," he said, reasonably.
it proves I have taste," Sam shot back, beginning to sound a little
exasperated, which, really, was better than the alternative.
do taste good," Dean allowed, and was extremely glad he was pulling
into the parking spot in front of their motel room. "But you also have
no culture. Dude, fish tacos. Fish tacos."
Sam leaned over and whispered in Dean's ear, "If you want to have sex
when we get inside, you'll shut up about the fish tacos."
words -- and maybe the voice itself -- went straight to Dean's cock.
But he pretended to think it over. He shut off the engine but stayed
behind the wheel, mouthing 'fish tacos' and 'sex' as though weighing
the benefits of each.
Sighing, Sam rolled his eyes and opened the car door. "I'll be inside
when you make up your mind," he said, getting out.
ok," Dean said absently, staying where he was as Sam got out of the
car. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, though the thought of
waiting until Sam was inside, maybe even on the bed and naked....
it wasn't like he didn't know he was choosing 'sex' over lunch. But he
had to at least keep up the act for a little while. Pissing his brother
off was fun, even without the sex.
He watched while Sam unlocked
and opened the room door, and stepped inside. Chances were Sam wouldn't
actually strip down. Chances were better that Sam wouldn't actually
wait for him. If he took too long, Sam would get engrossed in something
like rereading the Stanford campus directory.
Dean reached down and turned the ignition key.
His cell phone rang.
glance at the screen told him what he already knew. He flipped the
phone open. "Did you want me to get you something?" He was hoping Sam
would tell him he was half-naked, to entice Dean inside.
"What I want," Sam's voice growled in his ear, "is for you to get your
ass in here and fuck me."
really wasn't anything to say to that, so Dean snapped the phone shut,
turned off the engine, and bruised his knee trying to get out of the
car and to the motel room.
He got to the door, tried to figure
out where the hell he'd left his room key, then realised Sam had left
the door cracked open and offered a silent thanks for brothers who were
smarter than him. The second he stepped inside, he was grabbed and
pushed up against the door as it closed, then had Sam's tongue down his
throat. He didn't try to fight Sam off -- he wasn't stupid, for god's
sake. He did try to drop his keys someplace he could find them later,
and maybe try to shift so the doorknob wasn't poking him in the side.
he just stood there and hung on as Sam devoured him from the inside
out. Sam was almost frantic, grinding against him, hands moving
restlessly over Dean's body. He was making small desperate whimpering
sounds as he ravaged Dean's mouth that spoke of a need that went
straight to Dean's cock.
He'd only had his brother like this a
few times -- and as Dean realised what the common denominator was, he
reached up and held Sam's face, and began kissing him hard. Taking
control, or at least asking for it, since really what this was about
was whatever Sam wanted.
It didn't take a genius to figure out
what Sam was trying so hard not to think about. Sam moaned against
Dean's lips and his hands finally stopped moving, latching onto the
front of Dean's shirt tightly, willingly giving up control as Dean
showed that he was inclined to take it.
Dean pushed them away
from the door, and walked them backwards towards the bed. He pulled at
Sam's shirt as he did, tugging it up towards Sam's shoulder and
caressing Sam's chest and back as he went. He got his hands on Sam's
sides, then, when they hit the edge of the bed, he lifted Sam up to
toss him onto the mattress.
Sam bounced when he landed, long
limbs sprawled. He looked up at Dean with eyes dark with arousal and
need, shirt still hiked up, jeans not doing anything to hide how hard
"Jesus," Dean breathed, looking at Sam, seeing the way
Sam was looking back. For a moment it seemed surreal -- despite the
three months they'd been lovers, Dean wondered how the hell he had ever
finally managed to get to this place.
He yanked off his jacket
and shirt, deciding that thinking about it was definitely the worst of
two evils. Kicking off his shoes, Dean fumbled for his zipper, unable
to stop looking at the way Sam was watching him strip. Sam was propped
up on one elbow, the other hand gripping himself through his jeans,
staring at him through half lidded eyes.
"You wanna get those
off," Dean told him, not sure he could wait long enough to pull Sam's
jeans off for him -- even though undressing Sam was one of the best
parts about having sex with him. The slow, sensual sex was one of
Dean's favorites, although he would probably never admit it out loud.
Right now he was pretty sure Sam wanted it fast and hard and wild; he'd
asked Dean to fuck him.
pulled his underwear off, and walked over to the bed, naked and already
hard at the sight of his brother. He watched as Sam undid his jeans,
then lifted his hips to push them and his underwear down, wriggling
until they were far enough that he could kick them the rest of the way
Standing where he was, Dean took a moment to just look.
Sam, spread out, leaning back on his elbows. His cock was hard, and
Dean wanted to crawl up and swallow him whole. He reached down and
touched himself, running his hand down his own length, smirking at the
way Sam's eyes widened.
"Dean." Sam made the name a demand, plea and benediction all at once.
moved forward, knees on the mattress. Sam shifted his legs to make
room, inviting him closer. He should just lean down and suck Sam off --
make him scream in about ten seconds flat. But... Sam had asked Dean to
fuck him, and he'd been asking since the day they'd started this.
had no idea if he was ready. But suddenly it felt like a cop out to
just give Sam a blow job or hand job and leave it at that. Half sitting
up, Sam reached for him, pulling him down and seeking out his mouth
once more. He was still more than eager, but some of the franticness
had faded now that they were... involved.
Dean pressed his body
against Sam's, loving the feel of it beneath him. He kissed Sam like it
was all he wanted to do, ever. He felt Sam tremble, and he rocked his
hips forward, rubbing their cocks together. Sam gasped, arching his
head back and offering his throat.
He didn't need more
invitation; Dean leaned down and put his mouth over Sam's jugular,
licking him gently first, then sucking, hard as he could.
Sam's hips bucked in response, his whole body shaking. "D-dean..."
baby," Dean breathed against Sam's collarbone, soaking up the feel of
Sam's body. He slid a hand underneath Sam, palm against his back, and
pulled him up, rubbing their bodies together as he went back to leaving
hickeys on Sam's neck.
Each suck on Sam's throat sent another
shiver through his body, until he was trembling and writhing in Dean's
arms. "Please, Dean," he gasped.
Dean reached down and took
Sam's cock in his hand, pulling at him in a move that was already as
familiar as jerking his own. Dean ducked his head down, feeling a stab
of guilt -- he didn't know if this would be enough, but he didn't think
it would help if he tried to do more and couldn't follow through. Not
that having his own freak out wouldn't distract Sam just as much, but
actually having sex would at least be more fun.
He kissed Sam, hard, trying to apologise. Sam whimpered against his
mouth as he tried to get closer.
began moving his hand faster, dispensing with formalities and getting
on with the business of making Sam come. He let Sam kiss him, keeping
his mouth where Sam could do anything he liked with it, while he
concentrated on jerking his brother off. Sam held onto him, shaking and
panting, moving desperately against Dean, obviously on the edge, but
just as obviously trying to hold back.
He actually debated what
he should do. His hand slowed, and he knew -- Sam probably wouldn't
ask. He'd asked a hundred times and Dean kept saying no. How long could
he expect Sam to keep asking?
Dean moved his other hand down,
still grasping Sam's cock but not really jerking him off, yet. With his
other hand, he cupped Sam's ass, squeezing the cheek hard, and...
thought about it.
Sam touched his cheek and Dean looked down into eyes that were dark and
full of need. "Please," Sam whispered.
Christ. It wasn't like he didn't want to. Pull Sam's legs up and bury
himself balls deep. Pound his cock into Sam... Dean shivered and
wondered why the hell he didn't.
It wasn't like he could just do
it. Not Sam's first time. But he didn't know if he could make himself
take the time, now, to do it right. Wasn't sure if Sam could hold out
for it either, which left the question -- did he just use his fingers,
almost but not what he wanted?
Or-- "Why don't you fuck me?" he
asked, voice raspy with arousal and not a little bit of trepidation.
His reasons for not fucking Sam were the same as his reasons for never
letting Sam fuck him.
Maybe those reasons didn't make as much sense as he thought they did.
The question stilled Sam entirely. He shifted, lifting his head to
really look at Dean's face. "Are you sure?"
shrugged. He hadn't been fucked in awhile -- since a couple months
before he and Sam got together. But it was recent enough he knew they
could without hurting him. That made it a hell of a lot better than
giving in to the desire to fuck Sam, hard and wild and making him
scream Dean's name...
Dean swallowed. "Yeah, if... you know. You
want. More." He rubbed the palm of his hand over Sam's cock, letting
him know what he meant.
Sam's eyes fluttered shut briefly at
Dean's touch, but it didn't seem to distract him from the conversation.
"You're not exactly projecting confidence, here."
stopped moving his hand, and -- "Oh." Brilliant, Dean, he told himself.
He smiled, then rested his head on Sam's chest and laughed, once.
"Don't mean to sound so enthusiastic," he said sarcastically, laughing
at himself. "I do... I just...." The amusement dimmed and he realised
he might have to try to say what he was feeling.
The alternative was to let Sam think he didn't want this, and he had
done enough of that over the summer.
gave Sam a kiss, keeping it brief but hopefully heartfelt. "It's
just... crap. This is gonna sound stupid so I'm only going to say it
once, okay? I don't wanna fuck you here. Not... like this. Not when
it's about something else, and... I want to be home, not in some crappy
motel," he said, realising what else he was feeling only as he spoke.
image of fucking Sam here -- while nice -- made him think of all the
motel rooms he'd ever been in. They'd grown up in motels, and they
reminded him of work and hunts and dad, and of all the times a motel
room had meant whatever happens tonight will be forgotten once you
He didn't want Sam to leave.
"I want to do it
right," he whispered. "And if you ever tell anyone what a fucking pussy
I sound like, I will kill you and stuff you in the trunk and make your
ghost help me with the fucking hunts."
He took a deep breath,
and said quickly, "So I'm sorry to make you keep waiting for me, but if
you want something to...." Fuck, he was going to have to say it, remind
Sam when the whole point was to forget. "Take your mind off stuff then
I've been fucked before, we can do it without hurting me. It's no big
Sam stared at him long enough for Dean to start to get
nervous. Then he pushed at Dean's shoulder, tangling their legs
together to get enough leverage to roll them over. Once he had Dean on
his back beneath him, he leaned down and kissed him gently. "It is a
big deal," he murmured against Dean's lips, before abandoning them and
sliding down to take Dean's cock in his mouth.
about trying to ask Sam what the hell he meant, but then his cock was
over-riding any and all messages from his brain. He clutched at the
blankets and thought that his little brother had certainly learned how
to give a blow job.
Not that all his practise hadn't been on
Dean. But still -- he'd really picked it up. Dean shifted his feet,
pushing them flat against the mattress. He had no idea if they had
anything for lube other than whatever was in the bathroom, but whatever
was there would probably do.
He reached down and patted Sam's shoulder, trying to get his attention
because he'd rather stop now to get prepared, than later. Sam
ignored him, except to try and swallow him whole.
"Mrufug," Dean said, and gave up. Sam could suck him off, then
fuck him. Dean wouldn't argue. Sam knew all of Dean's buttons and
exactly how to push them and seemed to be taking this chance to
demonstrate that fact. Dean writhed on the bed, happy to let Sam suck
his entire being out through his cock. Arching his back, Dean tried not
to slam his cock forward, but everything in him wanted to fuck, hard.
He screamed again, hanging onto the comforter and shoving his head
back, as he finally came.
Sam didn't let go of Dean's cock until
Dean was completely wrung out. Then he slid back up Dean's body and
kissed him, his hips pushing against him almost frantically. Dean
kissed him back, holding onto Sam as much as he could when the only
part of his body he seemed capable of moving was his mouth. But he
nodded, and tried to look around for where the hell his duffel bag had
ended up. "I've got--" he said, breaking away from the kiss for a
Sam cut him off by sticking his tongue down his throat.
Dean left him to it for a couple seconds, then felt the way Sam was
pushing against him. He pushed Sam back a little. "Sam, you gotta.. if
you want to do this we need some stuff from my bag."
Sam shook his head. "This is good," he said breathlessly, a hitch in
his voice showing how close he was.
thought you wanted--" and Dean stopped, because even if Sam did want to
fuck him, it was too late to start now. He hung onto his brother's
hips, pulling him close and holding him in place. It didn't take long
before Sam was burying his face against Dean's neck and shuddering as
Dean held Sam as he collapsed, rubbing his hands up and
down his brother's back. He kissed him on the cheek, and said, "You're
supposed to get it in me before you do that."
Sam chuckled, but didn't raise his head. "It can wait."
"Clearly it couldn't," Dean returned, wriggling his hips a little to
nudge Sam's cock.
Now Sam did look up, catching and holding Dean's gaze. "It can wait,"
he repeated seriously. "Until... it is a big deal."
frowned at him, then just said, "Yeah, ok. I... yeah, I get it." He
nodded and gave Sam a kiss, thinking that he could have no sex at all
except this and life would be pretty damned good. "Guess your firsts
should all be nice ones." He grinned, and figured it was all right if
he got a little soft in the head. Sex with Sam tended to have
that effect on him.
"And you keep saying I'm the girl."
Dean reached up and brushed the hair out of Sam's eyes. Then he just
raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, so we're both girls."
"I am not a girl," Dean said firmly. "Have you seen the car I drive?"
Sam rolled over until he was lying beside him on his back and
stretched. He didn't answer.
poked him in the ribs. "I wanna talk about your feelings," he said,
managing to keep his face straight. "And you never call when you say
"Dickwad," Sam said clearly.
"Your accent sucks," Dean told him.
Sam held up one hand. With one finger.
Dean kept watching Sam, amused that for a change Sam's post-orgasmic
bliss didn't involve talking. He wanted to make sure Sam wasn't
brooding already, but so far he seemed just quiet, but relaxed. Rather
like how Dean himself felt.
He tried to figure out if there was
a good way to make Sam yelp and leap off the bed, but the ice machine
was down the hall and he didn't feel like getting up. Dean rolled onto
his side, towards Sam, and put his arm across Sam's chest. He grinned,
thinking that if he could get his brother annoyed enough to start a
pillow fight, then he could call the afternoon a success. He closed his
eyes to consider his options.
He felt Sam's hand come up to rest on the back of his neck, fingers
It didn't take long for him to fall fast asleep.
Dean stood in the middle of the apartment and looked around. It wasn't
the first time he'd signed a lease, wasn't the first time in a long
shot he'd signed a name not his own. But it was the first time
he'd ever moved into a place expecting that he wouldn't be moving out
any time soon.
given them a nine month lease, the standard student contract. They had
the option to extend for three months through the summer, and after
that... she'd said the word 'yearly' but Dean had stopped processing at
Sam came up behind him, wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and rested
his head against Dean's. "You're freaking, aren't you?"
his hands on Sam's arms, Dean held him in place. "No," he said,
honestly, though the fact surprised him a little. "I think... I'm not
Maybe because it was still sinking in, but... this could be home. A
place to live, not a place to stay in between hunts.
"You think?" Sam repeated, and Dean could hear the smile in his voice.
me a couple days," Dean said easily, turning his head and tilting back
so he could shoot a grin up at Sam without banging their heads
A home, with Sam.
Okay, maybe he was freaking a tiny bit.
"I can give you as long as you need," Sam said, his arms tightening
their hold on him.
Dean went back to staring at the walls, letting Sam hold him. The place
was really spacious, like Sam had said, though he figured once they got
some furniture that feeling would go away pretty fast. Well, maybe not
-- what did they need? A bed, a couch, a dresser? A desk for Sam. A
lockable cabinet he could store some of his extra weapons in, and some
of the books he didn't want to leave in the Impala.
they needed to dig up a used furniture place, first thing in the
morning. Hit a few garage sales if they could find any, or visit
Goodwill and get the stuff they'd need for the kitchen, maybe some more
For all the times Dean had done this before, he couldn't seem to quite
make his brain stay focused on it.
Sam chuckled; Dean could feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest.
"I can practically hear your brain whirring."
not," he protested, then realised what he'd said. "I mean... Hell. What
do you want for dinner? Chinese, pizza, fish tacos?"
"Dude, what is with you and fish tacos?"
He shrugged. "They make you make that face."
one where I'm about to ralph all over your shoes?" Dean glanced over
his shoulder; yep, there was that face. "I'm not seeing the attraction."
grinned. "Because trying to gross you out is one of the perks of being
older." Not that it had been really easy, especially once Sam had
started going on hunts. Nothing like having shoes sticky with bodily
fluids to make a person stop turning his nose up at a mouth-full of
partially chewed food.
"Chinese," Sam said, firmly changing the subject. "I saw a place just
around the corner."
"I want sweet and sour pork."
know." Sam hugged him a bit tighter for a few seconds then let him go.
"I'll go get food, you can stay here and.... not freak some more."
gave him a mild version of the 'are you nuts' look he reserved solely
for his brother. "I'm not gonna freak," he said, though he was pretty
sure neither of them believed it. He reached back for his wallet as Sam
stepped away, thinking that tomorrow he'd scout out some local bars and
check for pool tables.
"I've got it," Sam said quickly, holding up his own wallet. "Dad gave
me some cash when we left, too."
"He gave you cash?" Dean blinked. "How much?"
"A couple of hundred." Sam shrugged. "I think it was supposed to be a
congratulations for getting into college gift."
jaw dropped. "Dude, you're holding out on me?" He shoved at the weird
feeling in the pit of his stomach by reminding himself he'd got a car.
Even if it had been more of a condolence than congratulations. He
narrowed his eyes. "Maybe we should go find a card game and we can turn
it into a couple thousand." He didn't seriously expect Sam to take him
up on it, but hell, needling his brother was fun.
Sam put his wallet back in his pocket. "I'll be right back with food,"
he said, ignoring Dean's suggestion completely.
"We could go to Reno!" Dean called after him.
Sam threw him the finger over his shoulder as he left the apartment.
sighed once Sam was gone, and took another look around. It would take
him awhile to get back with food, and in the meantime... Dean had
nothing to do but freak out.
He went over to the pile of crap
they'd brought, two duffels and two sleeping bags, and a handful of
things they needed to make the place livable. Dean went to work,
salting the doorways and windows, then found some chalk and drew all
the runes and sigils they would need, in unobtrusive places.
He was finishing up with the water pipes in the bathroom when he heard
the front door open.
"Back!" Sam called out, coming in carrying a large bag in one hand and
a six pack of beer in the other.
figured it was you, or somebody I'd have to shoot," Dean said,
casually. He brushed the chalk dust off his fingers and reached for the
beer. "They sell this at the Chinese place, or you find a liquor store,
"Corner store across from the Chinese place." He handed
over the six pack and carried the bag of food over to where Dean had
laid out the sleeping bags.
"We'll check out the neighborhood
tomorrow. See where the nearest Del Taco is." He winked at Sam, then
grabbed some of the boxes of food and sat down on the floor. He found
the chopsticks as well and began eating the first thing he opened --
something with broccoli and chicken, which meant it was Sam's.
me that," Sam growled, grabbing that carton from him, but replacing it
with another which turned out to be his sweet and sour pork.
"Hey!" Dean protested.
it up. You hate broccoli." Sam leaned back on the pillows that were
piled by the sleeping bags, pillows they'd scavenged from the motel
when they left. "I've been thinking..."
Dean sighed. "This is never good."
threw a wrapped fortune cookie at him. "This is our first night in our
new apartment. I've been thinking... it's kinda a big deal, don't you
"Yeah, I guess it is." Dean nodded. "I did all the wards
and stuff," he said, though he figured Sam probably assumed he had
taken care of it.
"Good. Thanks." Sam took another bite of his
chicken before continuing. "So I was thinking, we should do something
special to mark the occasion. Since it's such a big deal."
we can do that." Dean looked around, thinking there was nothing
available to do any kind of marking an occasion. He got as far as
saying "Maybe there's a--" when it hit him what Sam was saying. His
mouth was still open and he thought maybe Sam shouldn't say stuff like
that without some kind of warning.
He was already hard, and he hadn't even finished eating his dinner.
Sam was watching him with a little smirk. "I take it you agree."
Dean set his food down on the floor, staring at Sam.
The smirk faltered a little. "Dean?"
moved onto his hands and knees, closing the distance and kissing Sam,
hard. He tried to remind himself to move away from the food before he
ended up kicking it over. He'd want it for breakfast.
Sam fumbling with something for a moment then his arms were wrapping
around Dean, pulling him closer and kissing him back just as hard. Dean
had to shift his balance so he could get one hand on his jeans. He
needed them off, right the fuck now.
There was a lot of
squirming and awkward positioning for a bit as they both shed their
clothes while staying in as much physical contact as possible. But
finally they were both naked and pressed skin to skin head to toe.
Dean was losing himself fast in Sam's mouth and hands, when he realised
that they'd had plans. He raised his head and looked around for
Sam reached out one long arm and snagged it from where it sat on the
other side of the sleeping bags. "Looking for this?"
up and straddling Sam, he grabbed his duffel and pulled it towards him.
He rested it on Sam's stomach and frantically began digging through it.
He found his toiletries bag and grabbed the small tube he kept in there
for just such emergencies, as well as one of the condoms.
watched him silently through dark eyes; Dean could feel the weight of
his stare. Supplies in hand, Dean shoved the bag off Sam, and stopped.
Stared back at Sam and his body was screaming at him not to
stop, get fucked already and stop stopping for god's sake.
swallowed hard and leaned down, kissing Sam again. "Fuck me," he forced
out, wanting it so badly and somehow terrified he'd manage to screw up
"Fuck yes," Sam growled, kissing him hard, then toppling them over
until Dean lay sprawled out beneath him.
watched him, spreading his legs and wishing they were there already,
Sam inside him and -- he couldn't hold back the whimper, no matter how
needy and embarrassing it was.
Sam kissed him hard one more
time, then took the lube from Dean's hand and sat up, kneeling between
Dean's legs. Dean watched as Sam put some on fingers that shook
slightly, then looked up to meet Dean's eyes. "Tell me if I do
something wrong," Sam said, voice low and husky, and then pushed a
finger inside Dean.
As though he could speak. Dean's body
practically froze as Sam entered his body. He started panting, and he
was going to come really too soon if he didn't start thinking about
something else, something... something he couldn't think of.
attention seemed totally focused on what he was doing; his gaze locked
at where his finger was breaching Dean's body. Then there were two
fingers. Dean groaned and grabbed for his knees, holding onto them and
deciding that he was probably the world's biggest moron for not doing
this sooner. "Come on, Sammy," he panted, wanting Sam inside him before
Sam groaned and closed his eyes for a second. "Is that
enough?" he asked uncertainly when he opened them back up and met
Dean's gaze. "Can I...?"
"Goddammit Sam, fuck me," Dean growled. He was still a little tight but
he didn't fucking care. "Please," he begged, because dignity
was pointless when he needed this so much.
Sam grabbed the base of his own cock, obviously in an effort to get
some control. He quickly spread lube over his length and then he was
moving, and Dean finally felt him pressed against his opening.
god." Dean breathed out, feeling Sam fill him, stretching him hard and
fast. It hurt a little, but he kept his expression clear of it --
thinking instead of the fact Sam was in him. He gasped, choking
back something he didn't want to look at. "Oh god, Sammy," he
whispered. He was gonna come, he could feel it. Sam wouldn't even have
to move, just be right there where he was.
Sam was staring at
him and the expression on his face was so... Dean didn't think there
were words to describe it. "Dean, I..." Sam began in voice that was
hoarse and broken.
It pulled him out of his own arousal just
enough. "Come on, baby," he said, softly. "Fuck me." He shifted his
hips a little, helping Sam drive himself into Dean.
"God," Sam groaned, then he was moving. Fucking Dean hard and
yeah, yeah, like that. Fuck me, Sam. Fuck me...." His voice died on
him, as his orgasm started to hit. He had enough awareness left to wish
he could have lasted just a little longer, then he lost it all in the
sensation of Sam. Fucking him.
Sam didn't last much longer than
Dean had, but long enough for Dean to watch the sheer wonder that shone
from Sam's face when he came.
"Fuck," he whispered. He
half-caught Sam as he fell forward, hoping Sam wouldn't pull out just
yet. But he had to kiss him, so he grabbed onto Sam and pulled him
down, taking his mouth, hard and open and trying to take everything
he'd been given.
Sam kissed him back just as thoroughly, as if he wouldn't be happy
until he could climb all the way inside of him.
you," Dean whispered, in one of the moments his mouth was free. Or
maybe he'd just thought it, because there didn't seem to be a time when
Sam wasn't touching him, inhaling him and still moving against him like
they were still fucking. He felt Sam slip out, and wished they could go
again. Well, they probably could in a couple minutes -- there were
advantages to Sam's being eighteen.
"I know," Sam murmured against Dean's skin as he peppered kisses all
over Dean's face. "Love you too."
felt himself tense. He tried to tell his brain it was good. It was
wonderful, and it wasn't anything he didn't already know. He bit his
lower lip, and pressed his face against Sam's shoulder, breathing in
the smell of him until it filled his head. "You've never said that
before," Dean said, so quiet he could barely hear himself.
Sam pulled back enough to meet his eyes. "I didn't think you'd hear it
if I did," he confessed. "But it's always been true."
Dean just nodded, because he knew it was true. He'd known all his life
that Sam loved him.
It wasn't the same thing as hearing it, and dear god, but Sam was
right. He was
a girl. He brought his hands up, thinking it would be better to just
get off Sam and clean up, and get back to dinner before.... He pressed
his hand against Sam's arm, and stroked his skin. He didn't want to
ever stop touching Sam.
Sam smiled faintly. "You barely heard it this time. Guess I'll have to
keep saying it."
"I heard you," Dean protested. It wasn't like Sam hadn't spoken loud
enough for him to hear.
Sam just kissed him again. "I love you," he said against Dean's mouth.
Dean thought that this was stupid. He didn't know exactly which part of
it he meant, but enough was enough and he hadn't even eaten more than a
bite of his food before Sam had brought up fucking. Dean pushed Sam
away this time, rolling out from under his brother and trying not to
look at him.
He heard Sam sigh. "And you still can't hear it," he said, sadly.
can hear you," he snapped. Sighing, he reached over and picked up his
carton of sweet and sour pork. He didn't feel hungry, but he stabbed at
it with the chopsticks.
"Yeah, that's why when I say it you practically bolt from the room."
you say it? Haven't heard you say it since you were eight years old."
Dean didn't know why he was so pissed off, but he had to restrain
himself from flinging his food across the room. He slammed it down, not
really interested in eating.
"I just said it," Sam pointed out exasperated. "And suddenly the sweet
and sour pork is more interesting than I am."
could care less about the fucking pork," Dean said, and he scrambled to
his feet, unable to sit still and having no idea how he'd gone from
relaxed and well-fucked, to this. He felt sore and sticky and he
thought maybe a shower would cool him down.
"Fuck," he heard Sam mutter behind him as he headed into the bathroom.
stopped in the doorway. He hated this. He wanted to shower off, have a
beer and his dinner and just...not have this. But he hated leaving Sam
out here, thinking that he'd fucked things up. Hell, who got mad
because someone said 'I love you'?
He looked back over his shoulder, and tried to figure out what he could
wasn't looking at him; he was sitting on the sleeping bag where Dean
had left him, his head resting on top of his bent knees.
It was worse than the puppy eyes Sam gave him. "Sammy," he said, and
had to stop and try again, louder. "I didn't mean--" He stopped again,
and looked down, grabbing the doorframe and wishing there could just be
an easy way to fix this.
"I'm sorry," Sam said softly, still not looking up. "I shouldn't
huffed, half-laughing. "You shouldn't apologise for saying that kind of
thing." It wasn't Sam's fault he could apparently barely stand to hear
it. Not Sam's fault he was apparently so fucked up he couldn't hear his
brother say he loved him.
Dean turned and walked into the bathroom, and switched on the hot
stayed in the shower longer than maybe he needed to; he'd forgot to
bring any soap, shampoo, or even towels with him so he ended up just
standing under the spray until he had control of himself again. When he
came out of the bathroom he saw Sam, curled up in his sleeping bag,
back to the bathroom door.
Perfect. Just the way they needed to start this first night in their
walked over to the pile of towels they'd taken from the motel and dried
off, then threw the towel down and mopped up the puddles he'd left on
the floor. He threw the towel in the corner of the bathroom, then went
back out and gathered up his shirt and underwear and socks, then
gathered up Sam's as well, and added them to the pile. Their jeans
would be good for another day; Dean hung them up, draping them over the
clothes rod in the closet.
Sam hadn't moved in all the time Dean
was moving around. As Dean walked over, he saw that Sam had fallen
asleep. Whether or not he was still pissed at Dean... well, there was
no real doubt there.
Grabbing some underwear from his duffel,
Dean slipped them on, then tugged his sleeping bag back into place. He
hesitated over how close to put it to Sam's, not sure if Sam would even
want him near, tonight.
He ended up putting it about a foot
away, then he lay down on his stomach, slipping his knife under his
pillow. He took a last look at his brother, and wished that he hadn't
been such a jerk.
Breakfast had been cold Chinese food and a total lack of conversation.
Dean hadn't been able to think of anything worth saying until finally
they had to get on with things that needed to be done whether they were
talking to each other or not.
A terse exchange got them agreed
on looking for furniture first, then they'd headed out and Dean drove
to the first used furniture place in the phone book. He'd been saving
money all summer, hitting the pool tables and a couple mid-stakes poker
games. He had nearly three thousand dollars to spend on getting the
apartment set up and he expected they'd go through it all today. But he
couldn't put anything on a fake credit card, not with needing furniture
delivered. Using a fake card didn't work when they could track you down.
it was cash, all carefully tucked inside a hidden pocket of his jacket
with the rosary and throwing knife he carried. He was pretty sure he
wouldn't need to make any holy water while shopping for couches, and he
was just hoping he wouldn't need to use the knife.
"This place okay?" he asked as they parked in the lot of Big Ted's Used
Sam looked up for the first time since they got in the car and
shrugged. "As good as the next place, I guess."
Sam was still mad at him. It looked like it was going to be one of
those long, torturous mad-ons, as well. Dean sighed internally,
resigning himself to days of Sam's mood.
"Fine," he snapped. He headed for the front doors.
the place was full of cheap, used crap. The best kind of stuff to
offload on students and people like him, he reflected. The only time
he'd got something nice was the time he'd let the store manager test
him out over the back of the couch he was buying.
teeth, Dean wandered over towards the mattresses. Sam followed,
trailing him like a lost puppy. Dean did his best to ignore the look on
Sam's face as he considered the array of mattresses. He wanted at least
a double, though a queen would be best. Unfortunately a mattress, box
springs, and frame would wipe out more of his cash than he wanted.
they could start with a top mattress and get a frame later. That meant
there were two or three decent choices; Dean looked them over quickly,
disregarding one for the huge sag in the center.
"Got any preference?" he asked Sam, indicating the two that would
seemed to shake himself. "I don't know," he said stepping forward and
sitting, then lying down on the nearest one. He grimaced. "Not this
one," he said, sitting back up. "Springs are about ready to come
"OK," Dean nodded, relieved that Sam was willing to at least talk to
him about this.
He went over and sat down on the second one. It wasn't great, but it
wasn't immediately painful, either. "Eh," he said. He'd slept on worse.
Sam came over and sat beside him. "Better than the other one."
we go for a smaller one, I think this is as good as we can get. Well,
unless you want to spend the day tramping around to every store in
town." Dean hoped Sam wouldn't say that was exactly what he wanted to
Sam gave a half shrug. "It'll do, I guess."
"Great!" Dean said, faking enthusiasm. "You wanna go look at desks
while I find a salesperson?"
He got another half shrug and a monotoned, "Sure."
restrained the urge to smack his brother. He noticed a saleslady veer
away from them -- apparently she was smart enough to not care if she
lost a commission from two guys about to tear each other new assholes.
Taking a deep breath, Dean decided there was no way he was dragging his
brother through the entire shopping trip like this.
He grabbed Sam by the arm and bodily propelled him back outside.
"Dean, what the-" Sam began, showing more life than he had since the
Dean said, trying to keep his voice sort of down. "I am fucking sorry
about last night. Would you just fucking yell and get it over with
instead of walking around being pissed at me because I'm not sure I can
put up with this all day. Not without one of us getting his head kicked
in and I'm pretty sure they won't sell us any furniture if we do that
in their store."
"You think that I..." Sam stared, then closed
his eyes for a moment and gave a sharp bark of laughter. "I'm not
pissed at you, Dean. I thought... the way you've been acting, and after
I.... I thought you were pissed at me."
"You...the fuck, Sam? Why would I be mad at you?"
Last night... it was a big deal and I wanted... and it was..." Sam gave
another bitter laugh. "And then I had to open my big mouth and keep pushing
and fucking ruin it."
told me you loved me," Dean said, and he caught the startled grin on
the woman walking past them. "That isn't something that's supposed to ruin
a big deal like last night."
they were both morons. Dean didn't figure that was news, and he had no
idea if kissing Sam was a good idea, right here in front of everyone.
Then again, did he care?
He darted forward, placing a quick,
almost chaste kiss on Sam's lips. Sam stared at him for a long moment,
then grabbed his jacket and pulled him in to kiss him again.
laughed, and managed to wrestle Sam off him -- not right away, and not
letting go of him, either. "Dude, we're a little public for too much of
that." He couldn't stop grinning, though. "Unless you want to go home
and break in the floor again and buy a bed tomorrow."
Grinning back, Sam said, "We're here now, might as well finish it while
we can. Then we can break in the floor and the bed."
"So you wanna go back inside and try again?" he asked, still not
letting go of his brother.
"Yeah." Sam's voice got quieter as he added, "And I am sorry."
up, Dean traced a line down the side of Sam's face. "Don't be," he
said, voice threatening to break. "Not your fault I'm a freak."
"Maybe, but you're my freak," Sam said possessively.
Dean couldn't stop the wide, no doubt goofy as hell, smile that spread
across his face. "You can tattoo it on my ass. Now, let's get back
inside and see if we can actually look for shit."
"Right." Sam pulled away from Dean enough that they could walk back
into the store.
slid his hand down Sam's arm. What the hell, he thought. Live
dangerously. He took hold of Sam's hand and headed back towards the
"You always did have a tendency to wander off,"
Dean said, not really truthfully, but he had spent a lot of time
holding onto Sam's hand when he'd been very little. He thought it was
more because they hadn't wanted to be apart from each other than
Which wasn't all that different from now.
"I was just following you," Sam replied with seeming complete sincerity.
follow me to the mattresses, and we'll see if we can find a salesperson
we didn't scare off already." He tugged at Sam's hand, even though Sam
wasn't lagging behind at all.
Sam grinned and tugged back. They
kept tugging on each other's hands like two kids as they crossed back
over to the mattress section.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" The saleslady who had avoided them earlier
was back, this time all smiles.
we need a mattress," Dean told her, pointing out the one they'd sort of
agreed on before. For some reason this sent Sam off into a fit of
laughter. Dean raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Dude, it isn't like
she doesn't know what we want it for."
That just made Sam laugh harder.
rolled his eyes and told the saleslady -- Denise was the name on her
nametag, "Sorry, he's a bit brain-damaged. So, I think we decided on
this one. Just the top mattress," he added.
"No box springs or frame?" she asked, and Dean could see her mentally
winding up her spiel.
We've got a whole apartment to furnish. Just the top for now," he said,
letting her know she could still make a nice commission without trying
to sell them something he didn't want.
Not that he was worried
about falling for anyone's sales pitch, but he didn't feel like wasting
time listening to it, today. For some reason, he was suddenly in a
pretty good mood.
He glanced at Sam. Yeah. Some inexplicable reason.
don't you pick out whatever else you're interested in and then we can
talk," the saleslady said with a smile. "I'm sure we can work out a
deal for you."
"Sounds good, Denise. Thank you." Dean gave her
his best smile, though he was pretty sure that the grin on her face was
due to the looks she kept sending Sam's way. Sam's dimples were in full
force -- no way anyone, including Dean, could fail to be taken in by
It took them a couple more hours, though Dean wasn't sure
they had really been focusing on the task at hand. But they ended up
with a desk for Sam, bar stools for the kitchen counter, a dresser, a
couch, and a bigger and much nicer mattress than they'd picked out
because apparently Sam's dimples and laughter were just as good for
getting discounts as anything Dean had ever tried.
felt a little stunned when he saw the bill, but he handed over the cash
and signed the forms, arranging for everything to be delivered that
"That was a productive morning," Sam said with satisfaction as they
walked back to the car.
Now what are we gonna do for the next two weeks?" Sam's classes didn't
start until nearly the end of August, and though Dean thought there was
some kind of orientation he'd have to go to, they had no obligations at
all, until then.
"I'm sure we can think of something." The comment didn't quite
sound suggestive, though the shy look Sam gave him to accompany it did
move it in that direction.
Dean pretended to think about it as they got in the car -- he very
nearly suggested they drive up I-5 for a few days, just to drive.
But he was pretty sure Sam would laugh at him, and he didn't want to
make it easy
for him. He waited until he'd started the car and let himself enjoy
that first rumble to life, then he looked at Sam. "Did you want to go
home and have sex?"
He could see in Sam's eyes what the answer
was -- like he needed confirmation. But all Sam said was, "Do you?"
managing to sound hopeful and like he was waiting for a punchline at
his expense all at once.
Dean opened his mouth to make a joke --
when his brain kicked in. About two minutes too late, of course. He
mentally thumped himself. Of course Sam would be hesitant. The
last time they'd had sex, they'd had emotional trauma for an afterglow.
He gave Sam a smile, letting it be as real as he could. "Always, Sammy.
With you -- always."
was rewarded with one of Sam's bright as the sun smiles that always
made him feel he should be keeping sunglasses handy just in case.
"Sounds like we have our afternoon figured out then."
grinned. "Great! Can we get Del Taco, too?" Much as he was just waiting
for Sam's reaction, Dean really was getting hungry. And someday, even
if it killed him, he was going to eat fish tacos in front of his
Sam's smile dimmed a little, but didn't go away entirely. "Fine," he
sighed. "But I'm not eating any fish tacos."
time Dean kicked himself, hard, in the center of his brain. One of
these days he was going to learn how not to do that. He reached over
and took Sam's hand, interlacing his fingers with Sam's. He thought
about suggesting something that would make Sam's smile return -- and
the image hit him right in the cock, and he gasped.
Fuck, he had to not do that while driving.
"What?" Sam asked as the car did a little wobble as Dean tried to get
more innocent thoughts into his head.
considered the state of the tube of lube he'd had in his bag, and it
was difficult to guess if there was enough. "We need to find a drug
store," he said. There was no way he was going to risk running
out in the middle.
could still hear the objections in the back of his head, and still
remember all the fear and shame he'd dealt with for so long. But
strangely, when faced with what to do to make Sam stop thinking Dean
didn't want this....it suddenly became pretty damn easy to choose.
"Okay," Sam said, easily agreeable. "What for?"
looked at him, opened his mouth, then grinned. "Seems to me, today
might be what you could call a special occasion." He said it seriously
-- didn't want Sam to think he was taking this lightly. "We own a bed,
well, a mattress at least, and tradition holds that it be broken in
He felt his heart pounding -- realised he was
actually, really, honestly going to do this. He took a deep breath, and
looked at Sam. The expression on Sam's face made him smile -- made him
want to kiss him, but that was kinda hard to do while driving.
you sure?" Sam asked, stammering a little. "We don't have to if you-"
he began, although his expression was clearly shouting how much he
"Sam." Dean considered what he needed to say. There
were a billion ways to screw this up, he knew; he'd gone through a hell
of a lot of them already. "I want.. more than anything I want
to fuck you. Well, maybe not more than I want you to fuck me," he
added, thoughtfully. "And I know you've got no reason to believe me
when I say I want to do this, now. Today. But as much as the idea still
scares the hell out of me, I want -- god, I want you so bad I'm not
sure it's safe for me to be driving right now. Turns me on so
much, thinking of you underneath me, me pounding into you--"
Dean told himself he really should stop, before he drove them into a
building. But he couldn't.
you so much," he said again, trying to sound as calm as he surely
didn't feel. "But the only thing I want more than you, is to not hurt
He focused on the upcoming intersection, then, glancing
out at the other cars and street lights and wishing... He didn't know
anymore what he wanted.
He felt Sam's hand
on his arm and glanced over at his brother. "You won't hurt me," Sam
said, that belief shining in his eyes. Then his mouth quirked up. "Do
you want me to drive?"
"I don't mean physically," Dean said, and
he was about to pull over and take Sam up on his offer when he spotted
a Wal-Greens Pharmacy. He could make it one more block. He hoped.
"Doesn't matter," Sam said with a shrug. "I trust you."
took him a minute to answer. "I know you do," was all he said. He
couldn't remember a time his little brother hadn't trusted him,
It was just himself he didn't always trust.
Sam frowned, watching him. "Do you trust me?"
caught his attention. "Of course! Sam... I trust you more than anyone."
He shrugged. "Well, you and dad. But you'll excuse me if I don't wanna
talk about dad while we have a heart-to-heart about me fucking you, all
right?" He gave Sam a half-smile.
Which Sam returned. "Good,
because neither do I." Then he got serious again. "If you trust me,
then trust me to not let you hurt me."
He wanted to say he did, reassure Sam that he knew this would be all
right. But the trouble was, he didn't know.
He glanced over at Sam, wondering if Sam could really keep that
promise. Not that he didn't trust Sam -- he did. He knew that without
Which meant even if he couldn't trust himself, he could still let his
brother watch his six, and back him up when he needed.
Slowly, he nodded.
Sam smiled. "There's a parking spot on the right, up there."
Dean looked to where Sam was pointing. Oh. Right. Dean scowled and
pulled the car into the spot, very carefully not looking over at Sam.
Didn't allow him to ignore the air of amusement from the passenger seat
of the car, however.
settled for just flipping Sam off. Then he got out of the car and
hurried into the store, not really caring if Sam followed or not. He
went directly for the aisle he needed -- boxes of lube, looking for the
largest size they had. He paused a moment to grab the kind he preferred
rather than the first one that caught his eye, no matter how much he
wanted to make this purchase and go.
He noticed that Sam hadn't
come in, so as he made his way to the registers he detoured. He'd
intended to do this right -- he'd even entertained thoughts of making
some kind of nice dinner, setting the mood and all that.
grabbed a couple of Heath bars, and went to pay for everything. When he
got back outside he faltered, then laughed. Sam was sitting behind the
"Don't say anything," Sam said, as Dean opened the
passenger door. "I'm not taking a chance on us dying in a fiery crash
before we can get home. I concentrate better under distractions than
"Oh the hell you do!" Dean argued, even as he settled
into the seat. He realised he'd never once ridden in his car before
now. Maybe it would be kinda nice for a change. And Sam was right --
this way he could indulge himself in his distractions on the way home.
"Hey, you're the one who keeps saying that my brain never shuts off.
I'm just agreeing with you." Sam held out his hand. "Keys?"
surprised him. "You don't have keys to the car?" Well, he didn't
remember ever making Sam a copy -- so no, he didn't have keys. "I'm
sorry." He should have done that before now. Dean dug into his pocket
and handed over his keys.
Sam shrugged as he put the key in the ignition. "No big deal. You drive
me everywhere I need to go anyway."
but...you should have a key. You know. Just--" He stopped, because he
had no clue what he was saying. It just seemed wrong for Sam not to
have a key to his car.
Sam shot him a fond smile. "Okay."
we just go home before I burn a hole in my jeans?" Dean was seriously
beginning to get tired of the way lately being with Sam dragged all of
his emotions out into the sunlight. Maybe he should have fallen in love
with a girl.
"We're going, keep your pants on." Sam pulled out into traffic. "For
seriously considered unzipping and giving Sam a free show, but the
traffic in the next lane was too thick to get away with it. Not to
mention the fact Sam had this thing about not crashing -- and Dean had
to admit he didn't want his car to get wrecked, either.
they weren't too far away from the apartment, and before he could
really start to feel the pain they were pulling up in front of the
Sam turned off the car and they sat there in silence for a moment, the
tension of anticipation thick in the small space. "So..."
launched himself at Sam, capturing his mouth and kissing him as hard as
he could. Then he pushed back. "Inside. Upstairs."
Sam lick his lips once and catch his breath. "Right," Sam said, then
was opening the car door and heading for the building just this side of
It was a good thing they didn't run into anyone on the
way in. Dean had a brief stab of alarm that he'd end up standing in the
hallway making polite chitchat while his cock tried to explode. As it
was, they got to their apartment, got the door unlocked, and got inside
without anything or anyone stopping them.
Dean dropped the bag on the floor as Sam launched himself at Dean.
ended up with his back pressed to the door and Sam pressed to his
front, kissing him like he was trying to crawl inside. Which was
perfectly all right with Dean. There was no place he'd rather be. He
held onto his brother, tugging at his clothes to pull him even closer.
knew he needed to figure out what to do -- how to go about this. Dean
wasn't entirely sure he wanted to slow down long enough to let his
brain work properly, but he knew he had to. He sucked on Sam's lower
lip, then nibbled a short line down his neck and placed a kiss on his
Right. Plans. Slowing down.
Dean looked at Sam and tried to form a coherent thought beyond "strip."
Well, but that was as good a place to start as any.
on, Sam. We gotta get undressed before we come in our jeans. Again." He
grinned. "Unless you want sticky pants." Dean snickered.
rolled his eyes. "Y'know, that wasn't funny the first time and it
hasn't really improved with repetition," he said, although he also
stepped back and began to strip.
"Sticky pants," Dean repeated, because Sam was so, so wrong. It was
funny. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it just inside the door,
noticing how he and Sam couldn't seem to take their eyes off each other.
That earned him another eye roll as Sam toed off his sneakers and
started undoing his jeans.
really have no class, do you," Dean said, sadly. "What the hell was I
thinking when I fell in love with you?" Dean took off his jeans and let
them fall on top of his shirt, then wondered where the hell he'd left
the bag from the pharmacy.
"The same thing I was?" Sam
suggested, as he raised one foot then the other to get rid of his
socks. "That my brother was the best thing that ever happened to me?"
felt himself blush, and looked down -- and spotted the bag. He grabbed
it and tried not to respond to Sam's words with a joke. "Yeah," he
said, because what Sam had just said was the truth. He looked up and
found Sam watching him with a worried frown. Dean gave him a smile.
"Yeah. You are."
If Sam's answering grin had more than a little relief in it, neither of
them chose to comment on it.
right, so," Dean said, and pulled out the box of lube from the bag. He
tied the bag's handles into a knot, hiding the chocolate from Sam for
"So," Sam said, looking suddenly a little nervous.
"So... did you read up on this at all?" Surely Sam had done some
research. Whether it was porn on the internet, or books from the
library -- he couldn't imagine his brother not knowing all the facts,
even if he had almost none of the experience.
said. "And then there's the... y'know." He did that hand gesture at his
head that had come to signify his visions. His voice got quieter. "And
there was last night."
"So," Dean said seriously, "Do you want
me to talk you through this?" He paused and added, "I won't be fucking
you this time -- I mean, all the way. It'll take some time to get you
ready for that." Then another thought occurred and he said, "Unless
you've been.. um. Fuck."
The image of his brother fucking himself, on fingers or toys... Dean
worked his jaw up and down and wondered just how fast he could
get a dildo. Tomorrow?
Sam blushed. "No. I thought... I wanted to wait for you."
Dean grinned. "And you call me
the girl," he said, softly. He walked forward and gave Sam a kiss --
hoping to wind his brain down a little, and his body back up.
Sam kissed him back wholeheartedly, wrapping his arms around Dean's
neck and keeping him from pulling away.
Dean got possession of his mouth back, he asked, a bit breathless, "So
do you want the lecture or should I just get you on the sleeping bags
and legs in the air?"
He saw Sam's eyes go dark and a little
glazed at his words. "What lecture?" Sam finally managed after licking
his lips a couple of times.
"You know, talk you through it as we
go. Or before we go, if you think you might not be able to
concentrate." He gave Sam another kiss, placing his hands on Sam's hips
and holding him tight.
Sam nodded, and seemed to think it over. "Which way do you want to do
it?" he finally asked.
it were up to me? I'd go back in time and tell myself to do this a
month ago, so that now I could just slide into you fast and hard." He
grinned. "Did your visions at least get us here faster than the first
Sam frowned, looking like he was trying to find the
answer. "Took us longer to get to the sex. But the fucking was faster
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "I wasn't your first,
was I?" He made it sound like he was only pretending to be jealous --
but, weirdly, he was.
"You were the first guy who counted," Sam told him, heartfelt.
"How many?" he demanded, unable to stop his smile from getting out.
"Anyone I need to go beat up?"
"Dean, it's not like I can call up every little detail that-"
"You get any names, I wanna know." Dean scowled at him. "Especially if
he didn't call you the next day."
"Whatever might have happened in some other reality that might only
exist inside my head, you're my first in this reality."
it scare me that that doesn't sound weird?" Dean cut off any response
Sam might have made by kissing him again. And he considered Sam's
question, for real. "How about I talk you through it, and if you need
me to shut up just let me know."
"Sounds good." Sam pressed himself close and kissed him again.
kiss made it hard to remember what Dean wanted to tell him. One hand on
the back of Sam's head, one on the small of his back, and a knee
in-between Sam's legs and almost every inch of skin that could be
pressed against Sam's body, was.
"I.. fuck. First thing we gotta do is get over to the sleeping bags
before we do this against the wall."
That made Sam laugh, Dean feeling the sound as much as hearing it, they
were pressed so closed. "I'll move if you move."
Dean made a show of considering it. "We could do this here...." Except
he'd need a third hand, or a table, or something. He gave Sam one more
quick kiss then gave him a gentle shove. "Bed. Er, what the fuck ever.
Laughing, Sam crossed the room and sat down on the
sleeping bags then turned and gave Dean a comehither look. Never one to
refuse Sam... most of the time, Dean went hither.
He stopped at
the foot of the bag Sam was sitting on, and Dean glanced over at his
own. Still askew, and too far away. He reached down and dragged it
over. "You got a preference between on your back, side, or hands and
Sam opened his mouth, but it was a moment before he
finally spoke. "I was going to say whatever way you think is best, but
the truth is I want to see you."
Dean nodded, and leaned
forward. He dropped the box of lube on the floor beside the sleeping
bag, reminding himself to give himself time to get it out of the
fucking box when he was ready for it, then moved in to kiss Sam again.
He used his body to encourage Sam to lean backwards, pressing against
him and trying not to forget what he wanted to do.
willingly, letting Dean press him back until he was lying flat,
spreading his legs so that Dean was cradled between them as they
Dean moaned, and wrestled his hands
underneath Sam. One on his back, one on his ass, and he rocked himself
against Sam and told himself the whole idea was to go slow.
Slow enough he didn't make Sam think this was their worst idea yet.
course he'd also told Sam he was going to talk him through this, and
he'd apparently forgotten that meant he couldn't keep kissing him. It
didn't make it any easier that Sam had wrapped arms and those long legs
around him, pulling Dean closer as he rocked up against him.
hell. All he'd wanted to do at this point was get Sam introduced to the
idea. A finger or two, and get him off, and for that he didn't need
much of anything that he didn't already have going. Dean kept kissing
him, and reached over, blindly, for the lube. It took him a few moments
to get the box open, and fumble the tube into his hand, but he finally
got it and flipped the cap open.
If Sam noticed what he was
doing, he didn't give any sign, seeming entirely focused on kissing
Dean and moving against him. Dean heartily approved of both -- he had
very quickly grown addicted to Sam's kisses, the way he seemed to focus
everything on his mouth, like the rest of his body was just on
autopilot. It made Dean's entire body come alive; when Sam kissed him
like this he knew it would be possible to come from Sam kissing him.
he'd even try it. For right now...he got the tube open and managed to
get some lube on his fingers, then scooted the tube far enough away
they wouldn't roll over on top of it.
Then he rolled onto his
side and moved his hand to Sam's ass. Touched him with the fingers that
weren't all lubed up, letting Sam know what he was doing. Sam stilled
as he realised, but didn't tense up or pull away. Well, not any further
than the few inches that he needed to be able to meet Dean's eyes.
gonna feel weird," Dean said, quietly. Well, then maybe Sam didn't
really need to be told, Dean thought. He had no idea just how much of
this Sam had remembered in his visions. Instead of debating what else
to say, Dean just moved down to suck on his favorite spot on Sam's
neck. As Sam gasped, Dean slid a finger inside him.
widened and he went still again. Dean moved his finger around -- not
trying for anything but to let Sam get used to the feel of it. He kept
sucking on Sam's neck, keeping him aroused.
"This is weird," Sam said on a half laugh, one hand coming up to stroke
the back of Dean's neck. "I... remember what it feels like, but
it's different somehow."
do you remember?" Dean asked. "Tell me what we did." He continued
fucking Sam with his finger, slowly, in and out until Sam's hips were
rocking with the motion.
Sam gave another breathless laugh.
"Might be easier to tell you what we didn't do. I never knew I was so
kinky. You on the other hand, I kinda figured."
That went right
to Dean's cock and slammed into his gut, and he shoved his cock against
Sam. "Tell me," he whispered, because dear god he had to know. He
wanted to hear it, from Sam's mouth, in those hot, breathless gasps.
eyes fluttered closed. "There was a lot of fucking in public places,"
he finally offered, voice getting deeper and huskier.
to fight back the almost-orgasm that hit him. "Sammy," he gasped,
trying to sound shocked. "You let me do this to you in public?" He
figured it wasn't quite this, and probably not quite public,
but the sort of semi-public where someone might wander by but never did.
thought of making Sam writhe with need, in the dark corner of a bar,
jeans unzipped and Dean's hand inside -- maybe a single finger, just
like he was doing now -- Dean bit back a cry, and came.
Sam was staring at him, half bemused, half amazed, still pretty much
all aroused. "God, you're easy."
didn't try to lift his head and glare at his brother. Instead he
focused on breathing until his brain seemed to be working again. Then
he said, "Been thinking about having sex with you for a long time. Now
you tell me I get to have one of my favorite fantasies? Hell yes, I'm
His heart was pounding, and Dean lay still.
hand was back at the nape of his neck, toying with the short hairs
there. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this but... you pretty much
could have any fantasy just for the asking."
That made him stop
-- he figured Sam was expecting a freak out, given the way he was
rubbing Dean's neck. So he said, "I have a fantasy about you washing my
Sam snorted. "Sexual fantasies," he clarified.
"You could be naked," Dean protested, then thought that realistically
Sam could be in a swimsuit, and yeah. That would be all right.
With Dean sitting nearby with a shotgun to make sure no one who took a
look did more than that.
occured to him that they were having this conversation with Dean's
finger still in Sam's ass, so he gave it a wriggle to see how
distractable Sam really was.
He heard Sam's breath catch. "Y-you
can't tell me that your sexual fantasies revolve around me washing your
car," he said, though his voice had a more strained tone to it.
I?" Dean taunted, and he slipped his finger out, rubbing it against his
ring finger to smear the slightly-dried lube there. Before Sam could do
anything other than gather himself to glare at Dean, he slipped the
tips of both fingers inside Sam.
Sam gasped and arched into the touch. "Dean..."
gonna...wash my car for me?" Dean asked, tilting his voice down into
the low growl that had never failed to make his lover come. He knew it
was nothing compared to the way Sam sounded when he yelled, and Dean
made a note to explain that very clearly to Sam, soon, so that Dean
could hear more of it. He pushed his fingers in to the first knuckle,
then pulled them back out.
tires," Dean said, working his fingers back in, slowly, not pushing
farther than the first time. "Hubcaps," he added, giving Sam a kiss on
his shoulder, then lowering his head to kiss his chest, once, twice,
working his way down. He slid down Sam's body, kissing his stomach.
"Rims," he finished, then he put his mouth on Sam's cock, and slid his
fingers all the way inside.
Sam gave a wordless yell, his hips bucking up violently.
his mouth, Dean let Sam's cock fuck him, even as he continued fucking
Sam with his fingers. It didn't take long before Sam was shaking and
screaming his brother's name as he came down Dean's throat.
let his fingers still, kept his mouth moving slowly, wringing every
last drop from Sam's cock, until Sam was slumped on the floor,
boneless. Then he pulled himself up, slipped his fingers from Sam's
ass, and reached over to grab the tshirt Sam had dropped earlier. He
used it to wipe his hand clean, then tossed it vaguely towards the
Sam reached up a hand lazily and tugged on Dean's arm, trying to pull
him back down.
"God, you're bossy," Dean muttered, even as he let himself be pulled
Sam wrapped himself around Dean and sighed in contentment. "Thank you,"
he said softly.
hugged him, mostly one-armed from the way Sam was squished against him.
He rubbed one hand down Sam's back, feeling the way Sam was so
completely relaxed beside him. Dean's eyes slipped closed and he tried
to make himself say 'you're welcome.' Finally he just turned his head
and gave Sam a kiss on the temple.
Sam made a sound halfway like
a purr and snuggled closer. It made Dean laugh, and he hugged Sam
again. Sam's idea of a nap was clearly an excellent one, Dean thought,
as long as they got up before anyone arrived to deliver their furniture.
They ought to at least be dressed by then.
But they had all afternoon, which meant they had plenty of time to
Dean had been awake and dressed for an hour before the furniture was
delivered; he and Sam still hadn't talked about where anything went.
Dean had a feeling Sam had worked everything out already, but as far as
Dean cared, it could go anywhere.
Which was why he ended up standing in the kitchen, watching silently as
was surreal, seeing the furniture get placed just so -- filling the
apartment until, once the delivery guys were gone, the place looked
like an actual apartment. Sam was grinning at him like they'd won a
lottery, and Dean couldn't help but feel a bit shell-shocked by it all.
told himself it was wallet-shock, because he'd had to hand over a tip
for the three guys who'd carted everything up the two flights of
stairs. Had nothing to do with the way Sam kept shooting smiles at him,
practically vibrating with happiness ever since he'd woken up and give
Dean a well-fucked grin.
As soon as the delivery guys were gone,
Dean looked around, decided he didn't want to think about any of it,
and said, "We need to hit the stores."
Sam blinked as if that
was the last thing he expected Dean to say, then turned thoughtful as
he looked out over their now furnished apartment. "Yeah, we do."
was a list in Dean's head -- two, really. One was the list for 'we've
just moved into a motel room'. It had two versions, one for the first
day when it could be a overnight stop and could be accomplished at the
nearest gas station. The longer version was for longer stays, but
assumed things like housekeeping carts and desk clerks handing over
The other list was for staying in
apartments. Not so often used, but Dean could rattle off every item on
it, in order. It had changed only a little as they'd grown up; the Bugs
Bunny toothpaste replaced by regular peppermint, though the sugar
cereals had never left their spot at number five. Dean looked around
and found his jacket, then caught up his keys -- a hardware store would
be needed, as well, though it could wait until tomorrow.
Sam grabbed up his own jacket and followed Dean down the stairs. "This
feels so... domestic."
"We've set up shop before," Dean countered, then he paused and looked
at Sam, knowing what his brother meant. "Yeah."
Sam grinned at him then slid by and took off down the stairs at full
break your neck," Dean called after him, half-heartedly. He had no idea
the number of times he'd yelled that same thing at Sam, since he was
two years old and able to walk.
Sam just laughed and threw him the finger over his shoulder, without
pausing once in his headlong rush down the stairs.
"Language," Dean added, hurrying down the stairs after him.
"Bite me!" Sam called back just as he hit the door.
ran down the stairs after his brother. He didn't expect to catch him,
and wasn't surprised when Sam was waiting for him at the car. Dean
walked up to him, then tilted his head down and bit Sam hard on the
"Ow!" Sam pulled his arm away and glared at him. "Jerk."
"You asked," Dean reminded him. Then he skipped backwards, out
of Sam's reach, and ran around to the driver's side of the car.
"You do realise that once we're in the car, you'll be well within
just grinned at him. Sam's side of the car was still locked. Dean let
himself in, locked his own door, and waited for Sam.
at him through the window for a moment, then went over to the nearby
dumpster. He returned with a long, thin piece of metal. "You going to
let me in or do you want to risk me scratching your car when I open the
"You scratch my paint and I will kill you."
Dean didn't move yet to unlock Sam's door, but when Sam raised the
metal in his hands, Dean lurched across the seat and pulled the lock
Sam tossed the metal aside and got into the car
with a self-satisfied grin. Dean resolutely ignored him as he started
the car, then flipped on the radio and pushed the cassette into the
slot. Motorhead roared to life as he pulled away from the curb.
"So where we going?" Sam asked a few minutes later when there was a
break between songs.
Dean waited a second for the music to start again, then pointed at his
ear and mouthed, "Can't hear you."
The look Sam shot him spoke as eloquently as any words would have.
Dean just went back to driving. He'd looked up the address and checked
a map of Palo Alto, and had a pretty good idea where he was going. It
wasn't far, and if he understood the streets right, the grocery store
wasn't really out of the way on the drive home.
He took his time
driving to get a feel for the area. It seemed nice enough -- then he
spotted something that he hadn't noticed before. "Palm trees?"
"We're in California, Dean," Sam said with a world weary patience.
"That means palm trees."
thought that was just in Florida and Hollywood." His only trips to
California had been farther south and north -- nothing in this part of
California had ever needed killing.
"Nope, here too," Sam said. "Along with lots of sun."
Dean glanced at the row of palm trees lining the road he'd just turned
onto. Freaky. He saw the sign for the K-Mart in the distance -- and
just this side of it, a sign that the universe loved him.
"Aren't you hungry?" Dean pulled into the parking lot and headed
directly for the taco place.
"I won't be after watching you eat fish tacos." Sam didn't however
actually protest going there.
Dean gave him a frown. "You have to have one, otherwise it isn't any
"Dean, I will do almost anything for you, but I draw the line at eating
pulled up to the drive-thru, and didn't even glance at the menu
display. "I thought you said you'd fulfill any of my fantasies."
"Sexual fantasies," Sam clarified. "And I'm telling you now if fish
tacos enter into your sexual fantasies, I really don't want to
just shook his head and gave his order into the speaker. He ordered
three fish tacos and a burger. Sam would either eat the burger, or if
he lost his appetite Dean would be happy to eat it for him.
Sam just sat on the other side of the car, arms crossed over his chest
and resolutely looked out of the windshield.
really are going to--" Dean laughed. Sam would sit there and refuse to
eat, just to prove his point that he had no idea how good fish tacos
"What? Not throw up?" Sam asked with a hint of an edge to his voice.
"Yeah, I'm doing my best."
"Wimp." Dean took the bag of food and tried handing it over to Sam.
Sam actually shrank from the bag. "They're your fish tacos, you can
keep them on your side of the car."
"You don't want your burger?" Dean dangled the bag towards him as
though it were filled with jackal hearts.
"Take it out and hand it to me," Sam requested. "I don't want any fish
of doing as requested, Dean dropped the bag in his lap. He waited until
they were headed into the K-Mart before he pulled out the first taco.
for your reference," Sam mentioned in a deadly casual voice. "You eat
those things, you're not going to be kissing me anytime soon. Not
Dean took a bite, then held the taco out. "Did you want some?"
looked at him, at the taco, then back at him, then turned on his heel
and silently walked away. Dean watched him go, chuckling to himself. He
kept eating his taco, and grabbed a shopping cart. He spotted Sam, head
above the displays and other shoppers, and chuckled again as he took
another bite of taco.
He caught up to Sam in toiletries. Sam
didn't say anything to him, just added a large bottle of mouthwash to
the cart. Dean reached past him and grabbed a couple of toothbrushes.
One-handed, he added toothpaste to the pile. In-between, he kept eating
When he reached for the second taco, he grabbed the
burger and held it out to Sam. Sam looked at him for a minute before
taking it with a muttered, "Thanks."
"I've got extra tartar sauce," Dean told him as Sam took his first bite.
Sam paused but kept chewing. When he'd swallowed, he said, "I just want
you to know I hate you."
seriously, Dean said, "Got it. Hate me. No tartar sauce." He continued
walking down the aisle, reviewing the list in his head. Nothing else
they needed here.
He left Sam to push the cart behind him, and
turned the corner to the next aisle. He caught sight of a display
hanging by the endcap, and grinned, grabbing the package on the top and
tossing it towards the cart.
Sam picked the package up out of
the cart to take a closer look at it. "Mutant turtles?" he asked,
looking at his brother in disbelief. "How old are you, again?"
"That's for you," Dean pointed out. "What's the matter, Sammy? Don't
you like turtles anymore?"
Again Sam fell back into silence, only giving Dean a disgusted look. He
did, however, put the toy back into the cart.
you want the Princess Jasmine one instead?" Dean held up one of the
toys from the other side of the endcap display. Sam just pushed the
cart away before Dean could drop the new toy in.
him, not really minding that with Sam ahead of him, his brother
couldn't get the full visual of Dean eating the fish tacos. Sam could
hear the crunch of the taco shells, which was enough to remind him what
Dean was doing.
They quickly finished with the bathroom stuff,
and headed for the next section of the store. They needed -- well,
everything. Dean glanced ahead and saw the towels and sheets and stuff.
"Hey," he got Sam's attention as his brother headed that direction.
"What?" Sam asked, more than a bit wary around the eyes.
"We can get that crap at Goodwill." He nodded in the direction Sam had
but..." Sam hesitated, then continued softly, "I thought it might be
nice to have new sheets and all for the bed. For... y'know."
know how much new sheets cost?" slipped out of Dean's mouth, before he
could kick his brain into gear. Like he and their dad hadn't been
saying shit like that for, well, eighteen years. But it wasn't like Sam
didn't have a point. It would be kinda nice, for a change. "Sorry," he
said, walking up beside Sam.
Sam nodded, silently accepting
the apology. "We can get the rest of the stuff at Goodwill," he
compromised. "Just one new set for special occasions."
"Yeah." He reached out and brushed his hand against Sam's wrist. "I
guess it would be...nice. To have new stuff."
gave him a small smile and started for the sheet aisle once more. Dean
followed him, and when they turned down the aisle, Dean realised there
were two problems with Sam's plan. The first was how the hell did
anyone decide? Usually it was a matter of what was on the shelf at
Goodwill that might reasonably fit and wasn't so garish that a person
The other problem was, how the hell did anyone decide?
stared at the row of sheets, grouped by size and brand and thread
count, whatever the hell that meant. He realised he was gaping when the
taco in his hand began to drip sauce on the floor. Sam, on the other
hand, didn't seem to be having any problem at all, going down the aisle
and looking at the various labels, muttering to himself under his
"Should I just close my eyes and pick one?" Dean asked,
feeling a little overwhelmed. A second later he was feeling pissed off
by the fact he was feeling overwhelmed by fucking sheets.
he looked closer and realised that some packages were full sets, and
others were just fitted or flat, and how the hell did they expect
anyone to know what the hell they were doing?
Sam pulled a package off the shelf and held it out to Dean. "These are
the ones we want."
took them, looking at the sheets, then his brother, suspicious and
confused. "How do you know?" They were black, which was cool, but there
seemed to be other black sheets on the shelves as well.
got a high enough thread count to be good quality but not so high as to
be insanely expensive," Sam told him, sounding for all the world like
he knew what he was talking about. "And I thought black would... look
His mouth was open to ask Sam what he was talking about
when the image hit. Sam, naked, lying on the bed. Black sheets. Dean
dropped the sheets into their cart.
Sam grinned at him. "Wait here. I just have to..."
Before Dean could say anything, Sam had disappeared around the end of
hoped Sam was running back to the lube aisle. He waited where he was,
obediently, until Sam returned. Sam wasn't gone long, but the package
he put into the cart when he came back was too big and flat to be lube.
suspicious, Dean reached down and picked the package back up. He felt
his jaw drop to the floor when he saw the picture.
"You can't be
serious," he forced out, eyes wide and sounding like someone had just
handed him... well, exactly what Sam had gotten. "Dude, it's Batman."
And it was -- a pillowcase, with a huge picture of Batman on both sides.
"Yeah, it is," Sam confirmed as if buying a Batman pillowcase was
stared at it for another moment, wondering if there was going to be a
note on it saying it would only fit pillows for people age seven and
under. "Sam, what are you.... Batman," he said again, because
where had Sam found a Batman pillowcase and what on Earth had possessed
him to get one, and -- it was Batman.
He had a Batman pillowcase.
"They had Wonder Woman too if you'd rather..." Sam began, reaching as
if to take the pillowcase back.
snatched his pillowcase away, before Sam could touch it, and scowled at
Sam. "Mine." He knew he probably sounded like a stubborn seven year
old, but -- he'd wanted Batman underoos, too, when he was little.
Wanted the comforter, and the pajamas, and the battery-powered
He wasn't giving up his pillowcase now, just because Sam wanted to be a
Sam grinned at him. "You sure?"
defiantly dropped the pillowcase into the cart. "If we have to put
something back, your turtle doll goes." He gave Sam a glare, and
grabbed the cart to push it. He wasn't sure he trusted Sam not to sneak
the pillowcase back while he wasn't looking.
pulled out his wallet and took out some bills that he handed to Dean.
"That should cover the sheets and the pillowcase," he said.
stared down at the money, not making a move to take it. "Dude, what
the-- I'm just kidding about putting your doll back," he said,
wondering if maybe Sam thought he was serious. Well, he was serious,
because no way was he letting go of his pillowcase.
want to buy it okay? I know it probably doesn't matter because we're
sharing everything but..." Sam shrugged. "I just want to."
okay, Sam," Dean said, nodding at him to take back his money. "Keep it.
I've got it covered." He did have plenty of cash for what he expected
they'd get, though he'd definitely have to find a pool table by the
But Sam continued to hold the money out for him. "That's not the point."
what's the point?" Dean had the feeling that he'd completely missed the
first half of the conversation, which was utterly unheard of when it
came to dealing with his brother. The only other time Sam had
completely blind-sided him... was when he'd said it was all right for
Dean to kiss him.
He did take the money, though, because he
recognised the stubborn look on Sam's face. He either took the money
now, or had a silent-screaming fight in the middle of K-Mart and spent
another night sleeping alone -- and Sam would slip the money into his
wallet anyhow, just to be a bastard about it.
"It's not much of
a gift, if you end up paying for it yourself," Sam pointed out,
relaxing after Dean took the money out of his hand.
surprised him. "A gift for what?" He looked at the money, then at the
sheets. Seeing Sam on black bedsheets was definitely a gift he could
appreciate, but -- it was months until his birthday, and he hadn't done
anything gift-worthy, lately, that he could think of.
"For coming here with me," Sam replied.
Dean didn't try to stop his smile; it was returned full-force from Sam,
dimples and all. "To K-mart?" Dean teased.
"To California," Sam countered, still smiling.
is where the fish tacos are," Dean replied, holding up his bag with the
third taco still in it. He didn't feel like eating it, though, in front
Not just at the moment, anyhow.
"Jerk," Sam said fondly. "Come on, let's get the rest of this shopping
de gari," Dean said, and he let Sam take the shopping cart. A moment
later he pulled out his third taco. He really didn't understand how Sam
could think these were gross. "You like fish sticks, right?" he asked,
after a couple bites and Sam wilfully ignoring him.
"I like fish
sticks," Sam acknowledged with that patient tone he got when he was
talking to small children or the chronically dense. "I like tacos, too;
I just don't like them together."
Dean thought about that. Nope;
didn't make any sense. He ate the rest of his taco, thinking it over
just in case there were any lightning flashes of insight to it -- but
all he got was that Sam had no idea what was good.
Sam through the store, pointing out things Sam walked past, and nodding
when Sam picked up stuff without prodding. He noticed that Sam seemed
to be following the list in Dean's head pretty closely, which was
either really freaky, or meant his little brother had been paying
closer attention than Dean had realised over the last couple of decades.
cart was pretty full by the time they were heading for checkout. "I
think we got everything," Sam mused, eyeing the items as they put them
on the counter.
"Cat litter," Dean said, naming the first thing
to pop into his head that he had never in his life purchased. Sam gave
him that look again. Dean looked offended. "We need cat litter for
the... wait. We don't have a cat. That was you purring."
Now he got a puzzled look. "I don't purr."
"Oh, Sammy, you were definitely purring." Dean grinned.
Sam still looked doubtful but he didn't argue the fact.
deference to the people standing around them in line, Dean didn't
describe exactly when Sam had purred. "You want me to show you again
when we get home?"
He could see by the way Sam's eyes darkened
that he figured out what it was that Dean was offering. "I think I'll
have to insist on it."
Dean nodded. "It's best we settle the
matter once and for all. So there's no... disagreement." He then had to
try to take his mind back off having sex with his brother as they
reached the register. The checkout girl was all smiles, and Dean
chatted easily with her, making her grin and laugh. When they finally
paid and headed back to the car with about a million bags, Dean thought
of one more store he really needed to find.
Probably wouldn't be
able to track one down tonight, unless -- he looked around and spotted
a phone, with a book of yellow pages dangling beneath it.
on," he told Sam, and jogged over to it. He could see out of his
peripheral vision that Sam was watching him, but he stayed by the car
with their bags. Dean flipped through the phone book quickly, noting
the paltry selection of stores but memorising their addresses quickly.
They looked to be all in one area of town, which didn't surprise him in
Then he headed back to the car and raised an eyebrow
at Sam, who was just standing by the car with the bags still in the
cart. "Dude, you couldn't have put those away?" He got his keys out,
and jangled them, tellingly.
"Not with the car locked and you having the keys," Sam pointed out,
grabbing them from Dean now to open the trunk.
Dean gave his brother a perplexed look while he patted his pockets,
then pulled out a key. He meant to make a joke, but the look on Sam's
face made him just silently hand it over. He loaded up the car with
their bags while Sam fiddled with putting the new key on his keychain.
doesn't mean you can just take the car whenever you want," Dean said,
warningly. "And I better not find the gas tank empty."
Sam finally looked up. "Thanks."
shook his head. "Don't get all mushy on me. It's just the key to my
most beloved possession. Well, other than you but you already have your
own key." He didn't think what he'd said made any sense, but he was
only half-paying attention to the conversation.
The rest of him was thinking about what he wanted to buy at Inserection.
"I didn't realise I had a lock," Sam said, bemused, as they got into
you have a dozen fucking locks," Dean said, shaking his head and not
really sure what he meant. It wasn't that he'd ever had trouble getting
his brother to do anything he wanted -- but maybe that was just because
all of Sam's locks had Dean-sized keyholes already installed.
was looking at him with that expression that said Dean had said or done
something that had surprised or impressed him. "Dude, that's kinda
Shrugging, Dean said, "I can do it once a year. Then I have to rest up
before I can do it again."
"You sell yourself short, sometimes."
"I sell myself very--" Dean cut himself off, telling himself he was a moron.
He was trying not to remind Sam of stuff that made him look at Dean all
sad and woeful-eyed. "Anyway, I don't know what I meant, about the
stupid locks," he ground out.
When they stopped at a light, Sam leaned over and kissed him.
didn't stop him, perfectly happy to be kissed whenever and wherever Sam
wanted to. But when Sam moved away, Dean asked, "What was that for?"
like he really was brain dead and had already forgotten what he'd been
"Just because," Sam replied with a small smile.
Dean shook his head and turned the car towards the red light and cheap
diner distract, heading away from both the grocery store and home.
After a moment, Sam asked, "Where are we going?"
need something," Dean said, as seriously as he could. As seriously as
he could while thinking about just what it was he wanted to buy. And
Sam's eyes narrowed. "What?"
Sam blinked. "I'm sorry, I can't have heard right. I thought you
"Dildo," Dean repeated. "It's like a fake cock," he began.
"I know what it is," Sam said quickly. "And you want one..."
Dean just nodded, as though they were talking about tacos.
He glanced over, giving his brother a surprised look. "For sex."
"I thought that was what I was for." Sam sounded just the slightest bit
are," Dean agreed. "And that's why I want a dildo." The images were
making it difficult to carry on the conversation so casually. Sam,
naked -- on black sheets -- with his legs spread and a dildo in his
Sam's eyes widened, as he seemed to finally figure out what Dean was
proposing. "Oh," he said faintly.
Trying desperately for a casual air, Dean said, "I think it would look
"Oh," Sam said again, even more faintly. Dean saw him swallow hard.
you think it would...feel nice?" he asked, still as casually as he
could, which, given the way his voice cut out, was pretty damn near not
Dean gave him a concerned frown. "Do you need to wait in the car while
I go buy a couple?"
There were two spots of colour on Sam's cheeks. "I'll go with you," he
said, voice husky.
a good idea. I'll want to see what colors look best against your skin
tone." Dean could hardly believe he was capable of talking, much less
form whole sentences. But there he was, and here was the last turn and
up ahead were the garish, tacky signs that said he'd found what he was
Beside him, Sam gulped.
He didn't say
anything more as he pulled into the parking lot of the first adult toy
shop. The triple Xs and blacked out windows told him more than the name
of the store; he gave Sam a cocky grin and headed for the door. Maybe
he could tease his brother with a few things and watch him blush -- or
watch for his eyes to do that widening-aroused-needy look, which would
be even better.
Stepping inside, Dean paused to look around, get
his bearings. One wall filled with porn videos; he'd keep that in mind
for later. Right now what he wanted was lined up on a shelf, examples
on lurid and explicit display.
Sam had followed
him in and continued to trail after him a step or two behind. Dean
could see he was trying to act casual, but it wasn't really working. It
would be so easy to tease him, make him blush until he combusted. Dean
reached out and took Sam's hand and pulled him along, easily but not
insistently, towards the dildos.
His touch seemed to make Sam a little less self conscious, though he
was still blushing as brightly as Dean had ever seen him.
Dean thought he was really incredibly slow. Sam was just 18, for god's
sake. This was probably his first time in a sex shop. Dean leaned over
and gave him a light kiss. "Relax. They've all seen virgins before."
Dean didn't think it was possible but Sam got even redder. But he still
managed to shoot back, "I'm not that much of a virgin.'
a virgin at all, except for never seeing Rocky Horror," Dean replied.
"Why the hell you won't let me take you to the movie theater -- look, I
won't even make you dress up as Rocky." He stopped in front of the
selection of anal dildos, and looked them over. Glass, silicone,
rubber? Realistic, or a frog's head?
Could he seriously fuck his brother with a frog?
"Maybe if you dress up as Rocky," Sam replied, his voice a
little distracted as he also stared at the dildo selection. "Or Frank."
"There is no way in hell I am dressing up as Franknfurter. You
can paint my car pink
first." Dean reached out and picked up a nice black silicone dildo. Not
too huge, but not small enough to be insulting or useless after the
first few times. Most importantly, the circumference was smaller than
that of Dean's erection, so he could use it right away.
"You'd look good in fishnets," Sam told him, staring at the dildo that
Dean was holding.
"If you ever say those words again, I will eat fish tacos in bed and
use this on myself and not let you touch."
Which, actually, wasn't a bad idea. Dean looked at the dildos again.
"No, you wouldn't." And suddenly Sam sounded absolutely confident.
"You're always going to let me touch."
tie you up," Dean said, as though what Sam had just said weren't so
utterly true that 'the sun will rise in the morning' had a better
chance of proving false. Picking up a huge, semi-translucent, turquoise
dildo, Dean showed it to Sam. "What do you think?"
"That you're yanking my chain."
"For me, pea-brain." He wasn't all that thrilled with the color, but he
really didn't care because he didn't expect to be looking at
"That you're trying to make me feel inadequate," Sam shot back smoothly.
Dean looked at the dildo. Well, yeah, obviously it was bigger than Sam
-- or any other normal human male. But that was what toys were for --
to get more of what you wanted.
And to freak out your brother.
"So, you think the red one?" he asked, setting the turquoise one down
and picking up the red vibrator.
"Is that really something you're seriously considering getting?" Sam
shrugged, and set it back on the shelf. "Which one do you want?" he
asked, showing him the dildo he'd already picked up, but using it to
gesture to the others. "I think we should stick with silicone for now,
but if you have any idea what sort of shape you'd prefer...?"
"Is that the one you like?" Sam asked, gesturing at the black dildo.
"It's gonna be in your ass, Sam," Dean told him. "I just wanna see it;
I don't care what it feels like."
He hadn't used dildos himself, much, but he knew what he
liked. Smooth, round, and hard -- bigger than a man's cock and longer,
so he could be filled and stay filled until his universe exploded.
"If you were me, is that the one you'd choose?"
think this one will do just fine," Dean said, realising that maybe Sam
was trying to not have to say out loud that he had no clue because he
hadn't been able to do any research ahead of time. He looked at it, and
thought about using it. "Yeah, real fine."
Sam nodded decisively. "That one then," he said, full of enough nervous
energy that he was sorta... twitching.
Come on, we need some condoms and cleaner and probably a hell of a lot
more lube." He led Sam away from the dildos, and through some of the
less eye-popping sections of the store. All he needed was for Sam to
swallow his tongue at the sight of the bondage gear.
"Sounds like you have definite plans for us," Sam said with a grin.
"Sam, if I don't have sex with you in the next hour, I'm going to have
a serious medical condition."
Sam's hand found its way to Dean's ass. "I can live with that time
you might." Dean found what he was looking for, and grabbed the
supplies, dumping them into Sam's hands before dragging his brother
towards the register.
The guy didn't blink and didn't make
chitchat, and soon enough they were on their way back outside. The
second they were in the car, Sam leaned over the seat and kissed Dean
Damn, but this was getting to be a habit, Dean
thought. Every time they were in the car, they were making out. Dean
grinned. He could probably blame it on youth and hormones, but that
made it sound like he minded. When Sam broke the kiss, Dean
asked, "So, you wanna get groceries?"
Sam lifted an eyebrow. "I thought we had a deadline. Y'know, the
serious medical condition?"
won't take us an hour to shop. I figure, half an hour shopping, ten
minutes' driving, and we're home before the timer goes." Dean didn't
know what he would do if Sam called his bluff and said yeah, let's go
Probably he'd drive to the grocery store and buy a bag of ice.
Sam seemed to be giving it serious thought. "We still have left over
Chinese in the fridge," he mused.
Dean turned at the next light -- heading home. "Don't whine at me when
you wake up and there's no breakfast."
Sam shrugged. "We can always go grab some breakfast burritos
somewhere." He grinned suddenly. "It's almost tradition."
"This is why you're the smart one."
Sam just continued to grin, looking smug as they drove back home.
When they pulled up in front of the
house, Dean spared a breath to hope that nobody met them on the way in.
He didn't really care if Mrs. Froson or the tiny blonde girl in
apartment two caught them -- Dean knew both of them knew exactly what
he and Sam were doing with each other. But there was standing in the
hallway talking about it, and there was getting Sam into the apartment
and naked so Dean could use the toy he'd just bought.
unloaded the trunk of their purchases, handing half the bags to Dean to
carry. "The cure for wandering hands," he joked. "Lots of packages."
Dean lifted one eyebrow. "Wait, you don't like wandering hands?"
"They can wander all they want -- once we get inside the apartment.
Where we won't get interrupted."
bitch, bitch." Dean followed Sam towards the house, staying back a step
so he could stare at Sam's ass. It was a nice change, he found himself
thinking. Staring, instead of...not.
"I know what you're doing," Sam told him as they climbed the last
stairs up to their apartment. "I can feel you looking."
can't feel a person looking," Dean replied, casually. Even if he knew
it was a lie -- he'd been on too many hunts where he'd turned around
already knowing that the thing he was hunting was staring at him.
Sam shrugged, not bothering to argue the point except to say, "Can feel
what am I looking at right now?" Dean asked, shifting his gaze to rest
on the place where Sam's leg curved into his ass. It was one of Dean's
favorite places to hold him, resting his hand when he held his brother
"I'd point, but my hands are full of bags," Sam replied. "You'll have
to wait until we get inside."
Reaching the top of the stairs, Sam juggled the bags long enough to
pull his keys out and unlock the door.
waited patiently, going in and putting his bags down just inside the
door. He stood there, pushing the door closed behind him and having
that eerie feeling of 'there's stuff here' as he saw the apartment
filled with furniture. Mostly his attention stayed on Sam, as he waited
to see what Sam would do, to answer his question.
Sam put his
bags down then came over to him, taking hold of his wrists and pulling
Dean's arms around him. Dean's hands automatically settled in their
favourite spots and Sam tapped the one that was sitting just where Dean
had been looking. "There," he smirked.
"No fucking way." Dean
gaped, tried to stop thinking about the spot he'd been staring at and
was now fondling, and managed to do so by glaring at Sam, suspiciously.
"You did that with your psychic shit, didn't you?"
"I don't know," Sam said with a shrug. "I've always been able to tell
when you're watching me. And most of the time how."
He hadn't seriously thought it was Sam's visions -- but what Sam had
said, worried him. "Always?"
Sam nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."
"I'm sorry," Dean blurted. It occurred to him he might try letting go
of Sam, but he really didn't want to.
Sam shook his head, looking puzzled. "Why would you be sorry?"
um." He looked down, seeing how close their chests were pressed
together and thinking that maybe what he was apologizing for was
stupid. "When I started...looking at you. If I made you feel... creeped
out or something. Even though I know you like it now," he
clarified, because there was a fucking sex toy on the floor half a foot
away from where they were standing.
But Dean had started noticing his brother a long time ago. Dean had
spent a lot of time trying not to look at Sam's ass, but he had
only ever succeeded in learning how to look with no one catching him.
Except now Sam was telling him he'd known?
only things you'd ever made me feel by looking at me were valued,
protected and loved," Sam assured him, leaning in and giving him a
brief kiss. "Promise."
It felt a hell of a lot like being hit
with a troll's hammer, and Dean could say that from experience. The
room was practically swaying -- or maybe he was, and Sam was just
moving with him. "Jesus fuck," Dean breathed, then gulped.
Sam's arms tightened around him. "You're not going to bolt and lock
yourself in the bathroom again are you?"
Dean said, then inhaled, and scowled as hard as he could -- which was
hardly at all. "I didn't lock myself in the bathroom, dickhead."
Truth be told, he didn't feel like letting go of Sam, at all.
Sam tilted his head acknowledging that. "Hid then."
couldn't argue with that. And while he could appreciate the need, now,
for hiding in the bathroom, Dean didn't want to move. He rested his
head on Sam's shoulder and took a deep breath. "Safer here, anyway," he
He felt Sam go perfectly still and then draw in a
slightly shaky breath. But his voice was steady when he spoke as was
the hand that stroked the back of Dean's neck.
"Yeah," Sam said softly. "You are."
raised his head and gave Sam a kiss. "I wanna make love to you," he
whispered. "I know we got that stuff to use but I just wanna...." He
gave Sam another kiss, taking his mouth quickly.
Sam kissed him back, holding him even tighter. "Whatever you need,
Dean," he said when Dean let his mouth go.
Dean nudged his brother back, not even bothering with the jokes about
needing his car washed or needing his laundry done every week for a
year. He'd rather do this, take Sam and undress him slow, and treasure
every moment of it like it finally, finally had come together.
didn't protest at all as Dean pulled Sam's shirt up, helping but not
doing more than lifting his arms, tilting his head down so Dean could
pull the shirt free. Dean splayed his hands on Sam's chest, feeling the
heat and thumping of Sam's heart under three of his fingers. He
wanted... he wasn't quite sure, but he knew he was going in the right
Sam stayed still, watching him with a gaze that felt
like another touch, but not saying or doing anything except letting
Dean touch him.
Dean put his hands on Sam's waist, briefly, then
quickly undid the fly of his jeans and pushed them down, catching Sam's
boxers on the way. He didn't stop to touch, or lean down to nuzzle; he
just wanted Sam naked. Crouching down, he pushed Sam's jeans down to
his ankles then stopped and helped him slip off first one shoe, then
the other. He repeated the one foot process to get Sam's jeans and
underwear off, then he stood back up and kissed Sam again.
pressed close against Dean's still clothed body as they kissed, a soft
groan rumbling in his chest. Dean started to tell him to go lie down --
when he caught sight of the mattress, sitting right where Sam had
designated the "bedroom" to be. He laughed.
"What?" Sam asked, then followed his gaze and his own lips twitched up,
dimples appearing. "Are we getting ahead of ourselves?"
least we own sheets," Dean said, shaking his head at the mattress --
the totally unmade, bare mattress. He kissed Sam on the collarbone.
"Black sheets." He pulled Sam close, and tasted more of his skin.
"It won't take long for you to put them on the bed," Sam pointed out,
though he made no move to do so.
"Why am I
making the bed?" He did look around for the bag with the sheets in it
-- they'd bought a hell of a lot of crap, but finally he spotted them.
"Because if you stand there and watch me make it when I'm naked, it'll
never get made," Sam pointed out reasonably.
only took Dean half a second to realise his brother was right. He
snapped his jaw shut from where he'd been gearing up to argue, and
nodded. "Don't move," he ordered, and picked up the sheets and headed
for the bed.
Sam obediently stayed right where he was, though Dean could feel
him watching him as he got the sheets out of the bag and put them on
the mattress. After he got the bottom sheet on, he paused and looked
over his shoulder, still leaning on the bed on his knees and one hand.
He reached back and pointed. "Right there, huh?"
"A little to the left." Sam grinned at him.
Dean gasped. But he wriggled his ass before he backed up off the
mattress and stood -- giving serious consideration to putting the
pillowcases on and the top sheet and did he care about anything that
was gonna just get in the way?
Well, except Sam might need a
pillow or two, he realised, so he grabbed them off the floor --
sticking his ass out for Sam to see -- and continued torturing himself
by not having sex already.
He heard plastic rustling behind him and looked to see that Sam had
retrieved the bag from the sex shop.
the words 'some assembly required' come out of your mouth, then you're
fucking me without any toys at all," Dean warned. He tossed the second
pillow onto the bed, and began pulling his own clothes off.
"I can truthfully say those words never even crossed my mind," Sam
said, watching appreciatively as Dean stripped.
then get over here and get on the bed." Dean sat down on it himself, to
get his shoes off. Sam chuckled as he crossed the room, putting one
knee on the bed and then crawling onto it in a way that had Dean
forgetting about his shoes. Dean rolled over, ignoring the fact he was
still wearing his jeans because it wasn't like he needed to be naked to
do what he wanted to do. He moved towards Sam, pushing him back onto
the bed and letting himself fall half on top of him, kissing him as
Sam made a soft sound of pleasure, wrapping Dean up
in his long limbs as they continued kissing. It would be so easy to
just do this, lay here with him and make him come. Sam certainly
wouldn't argue. He'd wanted to use the dildo he'd got -- then he
hadn't, after Sam had twisted his head and heart around. Now he felt
like he had the patience to at least try it, see how far Sam could go
with it. Second time being fucked, Dean didn't expect him to take very
But the thought of seeing him.... Dean swallowed hard and
leaned across Sam to get to the bag. Sam went quiet and still when he
heard the bag rustle as Dean picked it up, watching his brother through
dark eyes full of arousal and anticipation. Dean grabbed the dildo with
one hand, and used the other to grab Sam by the back of the neck,
pulling him up and kissing him, hard.
Sam's arms came up around
his shoulders, as Sam kissed him back, licking and nipping at Dean's
lips as if he wanted to eat him alive.
Dean was perfectly
willing to let him. But he managed to slide himself on top of Sam, then
finally pushed himself back, sitting on top of Sam's legs and looking
down at him.
God, he was so fucking gorgeous, Dean thought.
Flushed and aroused and so willing to let Dean do this. Dean tore his
attention away from Sam long enough to fumble with the dildo,
practically tearing open the box and throwing the smaller box of
condoms at Sam. Sam instinctively raised a hand to catch it, then
looked at it for a moment before it seemed to dawn on him to open it
and get one out. By the time he had one in his hand, Dean was ready for
it and he snatched it from Sam. Tearing it open, it only took him a
moment to roll it onto the dildo.
"Where the hell is the lube?"
Dean looked around, not-quite frantically. Sam reached out and grabbed
the bag that Dean had tossed aside, pulling out the lube that was still
in it and handed it over. All without saying a word. "Right, smart
brother, good job." Dean took it and now -- yeah. Ready.
Now to get Sam
ready. He smiled, and felt maybe a little eager -- or possibly
predatory, given the way Sam's eyes widened. Sam kind of... wriggled,
shifting a little nervously under Dean's gaze.
realised he was still wearing his jeans. He dropped the dildo and lube
on the mattress beside Sam, and stood up where he was.
Sam half sat up, eyes widening. "No-" he began then cut himself off.
stopped, with his hands on his fly. "No, Sam, I--" He dropped back down
to his knees, and reached for his brother. "It's all right, just need
to get naked. Before I have to say 'sticky pants' at you all night and
you won't get any sleep."
He felt bad -- like scum, really. That he'd frightened Sam enough that
he was lying there, apparently waiting for Dean to freak out
and run off. He gave Sam another kiss, trying to let him know it was
It had better be okay; Sam might not agree to have sex with him ever
again if Dean freaked out on him now.
"Sorry," Sam said with a weak smile.
"Hey, don't be sorry," Dean told him, kissing him lightly. "It's not
like I didn't give you good reason."
shouldn't assume the worst just because you need to get your jeans
off," Sam argued, then waved it off. "Whatever. We can fight over
whether I should apologise later. More important stuff to do right now."
sure? Because fighting could be fun." Dean laughed and stood up again
fast, not exactly getting out of Sam's reach but making it so that if
Sam tried anything, Dean would fall off the bed and break his neck,
then Sam would have to fuck himself with the toy and...
felt his eyes threaten to roll into his head. Which was the whole idea,
he reminded himself, as he struggled to get his jeans open and down and
off. Not just watching Sam, but watching him use the dildo himself....
Dean didn't know if the noise he made was audible.
Sam chuckled. "I never knew taking your jeans turned you on so much."
not that," Dean said, aiming for casual and falling short by a mile.
"Thinking more of backing up off the bed and letting you play with
yourself while I watch. See you fucking yourself--" Dean had to stop
talking before he came. He kicked his jeans off the bed and knelt down
again, over Sam.
Sam swallowed hard. "I could... if you want... You could watch and tell
me what you want me to do..."
lost control of his entire head, at that. Eyes bugged out and tongue
falling between his lips and his cock was screaming something at him in
a language he ought to know.
Sam began to look a little uncertain. "Dean...?"
definitely. But not this time. Not Sam's first. Dean swooped down and
kissed him, instead, once on the mouth then moving quickly to his new
favorite spot on Sam's entire body: his neck. He got one hand on Sam's
cock, and stroked it, slowly. Sam moaned, one hand coming up to hold
Dean's head in place when he hit just the right spot on his neck. Dean
sucked at the spot for a moment longer, then gave it a lick and leaned
back. This time he kept his eyes on Sam's face, holding his gaze as he
reached for the lube.
He spread some on his finger and reached
down with his other hand, lifting Sam's leg up. Sam moved willingly as
urged by Dean's hands, his gaze never leaving his brother's. Dean
pressed the tip of his finger against Sam's asshole, teasing him for a
"So I was thinking," he said, fighting to keep his voice
steady. When he had Sam's attention -- enough of it, anyway -- Dean
slid his finger inside and said "We might want to re-paint the
Sam gasped. "The bathroom?" he asked, in a strained voice, licking his
What color you like?" Dean moved his finger around, easily, then pulled
it out and let Sam watch him add some lube to his ring finger.
"I.. uh..." Another lick of the lips, another swallow as his eyes
didn't leave Dean's hands. "I haven't given it much thought."
nodded, seriously. Then he put his fingers against Sam's ass again, and
began to push, slowly. When he was almost in to the first knuckle, he
asked, "What color do you think would be good?"
He figured that
eventually Sam would kill him. But for the moment, the conversation was
distracting him enough from coming that he could possibly get all the
way to using the dildo before he tried slamming his own dick into his
He couldn't do that yet, but it was getting a lot harder to remember
Sam groaned. "Can this conversation wait?" he asked in a breathy voice.
frowned slightly, and twisted his fingers, very very slowly, feeling
for any sign of too much resistance. "I suppose, if you don't think
it's important," he said, frowning. "We could talk about the schedule
for who washes the dishes?"
"Dean!" Sam growled at him.
He slipped his fingers out, added a tiny bit more lube just to be safe,
and slid his fingers back in, this time concentrating on getting the
lube spread everywhere it needed to go.
Sam tried to glare at
him, but the effect was ruined when he gasped and his eyes glazed over
with pleasure. "Not. Now," he growled.
"You want me to just shut up and fuck you?" Dean asked, still moving
his fingers and making Sam start to writhe a little.
Geez, just say something, Sammy." He pulled his fingers out and picked
up the dildo before Sam could get himself launched off the bed and
strangle him. Dean lubed up the dildo quickly, and got its tip in place
before Sam started calling him names.
Sam went still again, eyes
wide. Leaning sideways, Dean gave him a kiss on the inside of his knee,
then began to push, just as slowly as he could. A faint frown appeared
on Sam's face. "Feels..."
Dean paused. "Yeah?" He was pretty sure Sam wasn't going to say it felt
Dean left the dildo where it was to let Sam get used to it. "You'll say
something if it gets too weird?" he asked. He didn't think Sam would
stay quiet if he didn't like something -- god knew he hadn't stayed
quiet about stuff he didn't like his entire life, so why would he start
He looked down at the dildo, breaching Sam's body. It was
only in about an inch; Dean swallowed hard and felt his dick throb. He
wanted to shove it in, the rest of the way -- but pretty much he could
leave it right where it was and jerk off and it would be worth it even
if Sam decided he didn't want to use the toy anymore.
"I will." Sam sounded distracted. He shifted his hips slightly. "It's a
good weird, I think."
Dean wondered what Sam would be saying when the dildo got in far
enough. Assuming he'd be speaking English so Dean could understand him.
"You ready for a little more?"
He got a quick emphatic nod for
an answer. Dean gave Sam's thigh a quick, reassuring rub, then looked
down at the dildo. He pressed in, still slowly but not quite as
torturously slow as before. Another half inch, then he dragged his gaze
up to check Sam's face.
Sam still looked distracted, obviously focused entirely on the
sensation. "Keep going."
kept inserting the dildo, torn between watching it -- fuck Sam, fucking
Sam, sliding inside him and Dean had to wrench his attention back to
Sam's face to make sure this was still okay, and because he really
wanted to see him react. When it was in far enough, Dean angled it
slightly and pushed a little bit more.
There was no mistaking
when he got the angle just right. Sam's entire body jerked and he
gasped loudly. Dean watched his brother's face as he pulled the dildo
back a little then pushed it back in. "You all right?" he asked,
smirking slightly, and trying to control his own gasp of sharp arousal.
"Do that again," Sam ordered.
Dean snapped his jaw shut and did it again.
Sam groaned, his hips starting to move in concert with Dean's hand.
"More," he said breathlessly.
nodded, even though Sam wasn't looking at him. Dean moved his hand
faster, and as soon as he slipped into a good rhythm, he looked down.
"Oh god." His cock reacted like it was thrusting into Sam -- Dean's
hips jerked and he dropped his head, reaching out blind with his free
hand to brace himself. It landed on Sam's thigh, and he squeezed hard,
and kept fucking his brother.
He couldn't take his eyes off the
sight, and the low, desperate moan he felt in his chest was making it
hard to hold himself back.
Sam seemed to be completely losing
himself. His hands were bunched tightly in the sheets and was actively
pushing back against the dildo, trying to get more of it. He was
panting for air and making these little abandoned sounds that went
straight to Dean's cock.
"More," Sam demanded again.
could barely hold on; but he kept his grip, kept fucking Sam -- hard
and fast, now. "Oh, god," he breathed, and he wanted to come, so badly.
He looked around, spotted the lube, and grabbed it.
Flipped the tube open and kept fucking Sam with the dildo in one hand,
with the other -- he hoped it was enough. Enough lube, enough
stretching, and as soon as he could, he pulled the dildo completely
out. Sam made a wordless protest at its loss.
Dean pulled Sam's legs up, and shifted forward the necessary few
inches, then slid himself inside.
That shut Sam up. He froze, his wide dark eyes seeking out Dean's face.
"Dean...?" he whispered, as if seeking confirmation.
couldn't answer -- couldn't form words, only groan, long and hard. Dean
felt himself encased, felt his brother beneath him, around his cock,
and his hands were flat on the bed, arms shaking. "Oh god," he
whispered again. "Sammy..." He heard his voice break and his hips
He felt the shudder that went through Sam's body
in reaction, then Sam was reaching for him, wrapping his arms around
him and trying to pull him down, pull him closer.
bending as far as he could and never stopping his thrusts. Pounding
into Sam, he gasped, and tried to turn his head to find something of
Sam to kiss. The harsh panting of his breath made it impossible to
close his mouth on Sam's skin, and he fucked Sam harder, driving them
both up the bed as he felt something inside him claw free.
shouted, strangled and broken, as he continued fucking Sam; pressing
his face into Sam's shoulder, the scent of musk and sweat and Sam
filling his head.
"Sammy..." Dean gasped, trying to hang on to nothing.
Sam was holding onto him, fingers closed around Dean's arms hard enough
that there were going to be bruises tomorrow. "Dean," he panted, then
said it again, repeating his brother's name like a mantra.
time he slammed in, Dean cried out. Sammy's name, prayers to things he
couldn't name, wordless cries that never quite managed to say what he
was feeling. But it didn't matter; he was fucking Sam, and he was
pressed down on him, and he was coming, so hard, and his world began to
The next thing he knew he was lying on top of Sam,
exhausted and just a little bit confused. Sam had his arms wrapped
tightly around him and his head turned and buried against Dean's neck.
Dean didn't try to move -- he didn't want to move, ever. Just
die, right where he was.
did manage to scrape together enough brain cells and air molecules to
make an inquisitive noise, to let Sam know he wasn't actually
If it sounded more desolate than curious,
Dean didn't think about it. If anything Sam hugged him tighter. But
other than that, he didn't move either.
After another moment,
Dean decided to see if he could do something complicated, like take a
deep breath. He had to turn his head a little, but after a couple
tries, he managed it. The oxygen seemed to help, and he pried his eyes
open and looked at Sam.
Sam was smiling faintly, expression
open, eyes unguarded, and what Dean could see there took his breath
away. Whatever he might have said was stolen, caught in Sam's eyes. He
couldn't even move close enough to kiss him, just lie there and stare.
was a tremor in the back of his head, that this was something wrong.
Something bad, the thing he'd told himself over and over he could
never, ever have. A thousand reasons, a dozen scratched in the inside
of his skull so often that he didn't even need to see the words to know
what they said.
He could barely see them, faced with the look in his brother's eyes.
closed his eyes and buried his head in the crook of Sam's neck, and
felt the air shudder out of his lungs. He wrapped his arms as tightly
around his brother as they could go, and held on.