Sam’s fingers clutch the sheets as he buries his face into the pillow. He squeezes his eyes shut and muffles his wince of discomfort into it. Sam doesn’t dare let Dean see or hear his pain.
His brother’s fingertips dig into Sam’s hips a little tighter as huffing breaths and deep moans of ecstasy fall freely from his lips. The sound of skin meeting skin continues to fill the room as Dean buries his cock into Sam’s pliant body over and over. Sam’s is completely limp between his legs, not even a twitch of interest.
The pleasure to pain ratio is non-existent. It’s all pain.
Sam’s not used to having anything or anyone inside of him that way and now Dean’s there as if he’s always belonged, slamming into him again and again. For all Dean knows, Sam’s enjoying himself. He appears to be a willing participant. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell Dean how much it hurts. How the thick stretch of his own brother’s cock stuffing him full makes his stomach churn. Sam just can’t. Not after Dean worked up the courage to confess his hidden feelings. Not after Dean sold his soul and damned himself to hell all for Sam. He’s going to be gone in a month. Sam couldn’t live with himself if he rejected his brother and made his last days miserable. So he endures. He gives Dean his greatest desire.
Sam takes everything Dean gives him, even arches his back a little to hide the fact that he’s suffering. As much as he hates the feeling, Sam wants Dean to feel good. He wants to make his big brother happy. After everything Dean has done for him, Sam feels as if he owes him this.
Dean’s thrusts suddenly get faster and sloppier, and then what feels like an encounter that's lasted for hours comes to an end. A deep, pleasure filled groan of his name comes from behind Sam and makes his whole body shiver. Sam’s almost relieved because Dean’s finally stopped, but then he feels it. Dean’s cock pulsing inside of him. Sam can’t stop the tears anymore as his own brother’s warm, thick seed paints his insides.
Dean doesn’t pull out like Sam hopes. Instead he drapes himself over Sam’s back. The weight of Dean on top of him is crushing. Inescapable.
“So good, Sammy. I love you,” Dean mutters against Sam’s ear, then presses a kiss to his shoulder. His arms wrap around Sam and he hugs him close.
Through tears and with a shaky voice, Sam manages to get four words out. “I love you too.”
At least that’s true.