Sam both loved and hated where they were now.
On one hand, he wasn’t forced to hide his true feelings towards his brother anymore. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired between them – one minute Dean was yelling at him, slamming him hard into a wall once he had verified Sam hadn’t actually been injured during the major fiasco their last hunt has resulted in and the next? Sam’s tongue was making its way down Dean’s throat, Dean moaning into Sam’s mouth. Their clothes were completely stripped off in a matter of seconds and before Sam could even begin to comprehend that this was his older brother spreading him out on the large motel bed, Dean was already sinking into his body. Then Sam was screaming Dean’s name and coming apart with his fists twisted in the sheets.
Sam wanted to pinch himself. The instant Dean slipped free and fled to the bathroom, the moment was over. In the days following, Dean jumped like his skin was on fire every time he even accidentally touched Sam.
It was killing Sam because now, Sam craved it… craved Dean’s touch, his kisses, his body, his skin… like a drug. Five days after their first time, Sam had finally had enough of Dean’s distancing himself and he had pushed Dean until he cracked.
Afterwards as they lay physically and emotionally spent, Dean had confessed his secret. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sammy. I would die first. I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you…”
Dean couldn’t seem to comprehend that Sam wanted this too. Hell, Sam ran to Stanford because of this. He had tried to escape drowning in those dirty thoughts about his brother he had encountered at every turn. Now after all this time to find out Dean wanted this too? Wanted Sam? Sam felt like he was flying.
They’d made love three times and Dean had swallowed Sam down once in the backseat of the Impala. All four times, Dean had refused to make eye contact, refused to say Sam’s name or to even look at Sam’s face. If Sam didn’t know his brother as well as he did, he would think Dean’s actions suggested he wasn’t into this.
But Sam knew better.
Sam knew by the way Dean looked at him from across the room, gaze unwavering. Sam knew by the way Dean sat beside him in silence, changing the radio or television to a station that Sam preferred over one he himself would enjoy. Sam knew by the way Dean would whisper goodnight to him, turning his body to face Sam even if that meant his back was to the door. Sam knew Dean.
Sam also knew how Dean was torturing himself, letting guilt and the fear that he was ruining his younger brother destroy him from the inside out. Sam couldn’t let that stand.
They were in this together. There was no turning back. Even if they could? Sam wouldn’t want to. What Sam didn’t want was for this to ruin their relationship. Everything life threw at them, they fought against together. As family… as brothers… as blood. If Dean was hurting over this? Sam wasn’t going to let it go.
Sam was riding shotgun, Dean’s hands gripped tight on the steering wheel as he sped them away from the vampire nest they’d just eradicated. Dean had a smear of blood on his face, just below his eyes, and the dark red color of it made Dean’s eyes look almost luminescent. Slowly, Sam reached over to wipe at the smear, causing Dean’s eyes to shut for a second and a shiver to rip through him.
“Sammy…” Dean’s voice was rough and Sam felt his insides come alive at the sound.
“Where to next?” Sam asked, leaning his shoulder against the door and looking over his brother.
Dean sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Bobby doesn’t have anything else on his radar right now… I guess we’ll just drive until we see a place that looks good and then reevaluate from there.”
Sam nodded, grateful. If there was nothing for them to start hunting, there was nothing to preoccupy Dean’s mind, and he was determined to get through to his brother and let him know that this, between them, was something he really, truly wanted.
They drove in comfortable silence, the soothing sound of classic rock playing softly from the radio, and Sam waited, biding his time. Finally when Dean started to shift about on the bench-seat showing that several hours of driving straight through after a vampire battle was making him uncomfortable, Sam knew this was it.
Slowly, he shifted towards Dean, leaning into his brother’s shoulder. Dean sighed softly, murmuring Sam’s name in a warning, and Sam ignored him. He almost suggested they get off the next exit, but he knew that Dean would shoot that down, would try to press forward and avoid being locked into a hotel room where there was no escaping his younger brother.
But, Dean couldn’t exactly escape him in the car…
Sam smirked against Dean’s jacket, inhaling the scent he’d had memorized for the rest of his life; gun oil, faint traces of Old Spice, whiskey and leather, mixed with the distinctive scent of Dean himself. He ran his right hand up Dean’s thigh, feeling his brother tense beneath his touch.
“Sammy, come on…” Dean whispered, and Sam could hear the shaky breath he took in. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek and feeling his brother shudder. “I’m driving…”
“I know, I’m not asking you to do anything.” Sam replied, trailing his hand higher up his brother’s thigh. He felt Dean shift his hips beside him, and even though Dean’s face showed annoyance, Sam knew the rest of his body felt very differently. “I want to, Dean. I want you.”
Sam watched Dean’s face carefully as his hand trailed over the front of his jean’s, fingers pressing in against the zipper and feeling the increasing pressure beneath the denim as Dean’s body responded and hardened at his touch. He dragged his fingernails across the material, sending small vibrations through the denim fabric before he took the button between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it free.
“Sammy… what are you doing?” Dean whispered, swallowing hard, his eyes wild as they glanced to his shoulder to meet Sam’s.
“Showing you this isn’t just you, Dean,” Sam answered back. Dean opened his mouth – to argue, disagree, whatever it was—but his words were caught in his throat the moment Sam snaked his hand inside his jeans and then boxer-briefs to touch against Dean’s skin, to wrap around his swollen flesh.
“S-Sa-Sam,” Dean whined, eyes closing for a second, a pained look crossing his face.
“Watch the road, Dean.” Sam reminded him and worked to loosen the material and free Dean from its confinement. Dean was breathing hard, his mind probably going a million miles an hour with thoughts of how he’d somehow ruined Sam, somehow caused Sam to think he had to do this.
Dean kept his eyes focused forward, locked on the road, and Sam took that for as good a go-ahead as he was going to get. He ducked beneath Dean’s arm, pushing his own legs further off of the seat and into the foot well of the passenger side to give him more room to move around.
Sam leaned forward, resting his cheek against the flat of Dean’s stomach. Dean’s dick twitched, pressing softly against the side of Sam’s jaw and Sam smiled. Slowly, his fingers wrapped around the base to keep Dean steady, he licked a hot, wet stripe up the side of Dean’s cock. Dean hissed above him and Sam could practically feel the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Sam took his time, circling his tongue around Dean’s engorged cockhead, sucking and kissing his way down the shaft and then back up again. A soft moan escaped Dean’s throat when Sam licked his lips and sucked the top of Dean down, pressing his tongue flat against the underside as he slid down.
“Fuck, Sam,” Dean whispered, hips bucking up involuntarily and Sam freed the arm that was pressed against the back of the seat to drape over Dean’s hips and hold him down.
Sam moaned around Dean’s cock, sending a shock of vibrations through his brother’s lower body and Sam could feel the muscles in his thighs contracting. He was rewarded with a spurt of pre-come and Sam sucked it down greedily, taking as much of his brother down his throat as he could.
Sam let his free hand trail over Dean’s thighs, fingers digging into the muscles there as he worked his way around his brother’s swollen flesh, reveling in the taste and feel of Dean against his tongue. He could feel Dean’s legs flexing under his touch, knew if he looked up Dean’s verdant eyes would be half-closed, struggling to keep his attention on the road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel and fighting against the desire to drop down to tangle in Sam’s hair.
Dean was coming apart, all because of Sam. His breath was hitching, breathing increased, and Sam loved it. He loved that he could do this to his brother, knew that if he could just push Dean over that edge just a little bit further… He wanted Dean to let go, needed him to. Once Dean released all of the negative, guilt-ridden thoughts, then he could reach Dean completely.
“Sam!” Dean called out his name, voice breaking and he dropped a hand to the back of Sam’s head, fingernails digging into the hair at the base of his skull. Then, his fingers tightened and he yanked hard on Sam’s hair, pulling his head back with a soft pop.
“Dean… what?” Sam asked, chasing the taste of Dean on his lips with his tongue, looking up through his bangs to find his brother’s face. Dean was staring ahead, face set, eyes flashing as he searched the road. Sam opened his mouth to ask again when the Impala jerked to the side to travel several yards down a nearly hidden dirt trail and Dean was turning the car off of the road and throwing it into park.
“Are you trying to fucking kill us?” Dean asked, reaching down to grab Sam’s shoulders and pulling him up. Sam’s heart started beating faster, Dean’s fingers digging into the muscles of Sam’s arms. “Fuck, Sammy.”
“Dean,” Sam whispered back, smirking at the expression on his brother’s face. Dean swallowed hard once and then was on Sam, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Sam gasped into his mouth, immediately opening up and letting Dean in. Their tongues tangled, both of them fighting for dominance of the kiss, but the moment Dean slid his hands down Sam’s chest, it was over. Sam moaned, leaning into his brother’s touch.
“Backseat. Now.” Dean’s voice was hard, deep, and it sent a shiver through Sam’s entire body. Sam nodded, kissing Dean once more before scrambling up and climbing over the seat back, careful not to kick Dean when he pulled his long legs over. Dean followed after him, his movements graceful; he practically slid into the back seat, blanketing Sam’s body with his own.
Sam let his eyes fall closed, focusing on the feeling of Dean’s body pressed up against his. His leg slipped between Sam’s open legs, thigh putting a perfect pressure on Sam’s center. His chest was hard, warm, and flush against Sam’s own. Dean’s arms were braced above Sam’s head, one hand curled down to twist in Sam’s hair to pull his head back. Dean dipped down, biting down on Sam’s bared throat before sealing his lips over the spot and sucking gently.
Sam gasped, bucking his hips up against Dean’s, hands moving to grab the back loops of Dean’s jeans and pull him closer. Dean bit his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth as the hand not wrapped in Sam’s hair ran down his chest to the button of Sam’s jeans.
Sam lifted his hips, helping Dean free him of his denim and boxer briefs, and then he was sitting up and Dean was fisting the bottom of his shirt and yanking it free. Sam smirked and reached for Dean, freeing him of his clothing until they were both panting, and both beautifully naked. Sam let his eyes trail down Dean’s body—the rise and fall of his flushed chest, the way his stomach muscles rippled with each breath. Dean’s cock was hard, flushed red and standing up proudly. Sam appreciated the view but his breath caught when he scanned back up and met Dean’s hungry eyes.
“Roll over,” Dean ordered, reaching into the front seat, poking around for a few moments and coming back with a small bottle of lube. Sam blinked at it, briefly wondering where the fuck Dean had hidden that without him knowing about it. Dean’s hand was an insistent pressure on his hip, starting to push Sam over and Sam shook his head.
“No,” Sam said quickly and Dean froze, pulling back almost immediately. Sam’s heart skipped a beat when he looked up to see his older brother pressed against the opposite car door, looking almost like he was going to be sick. “No, Dean, I mean yes, but… not like that.” Dean stared at him, not moving until Sam sat up and reached for him again. “I don’t want to do it like that, I want to see you. I want you to see me, see what you do to me, see how much I want you, how much I want this.” Sam tugged on him harder, leaning back slowly.
Dean followed with him and Sam pressed his hand against Dean’s chest, fingertips gracing the bottom of the anti-possession tattoo they both shared. Dean’s heart beat was strong, thrumming underneath his palm, and Sam glanced up, meeting Dean’s eyes.
Sam couldn’t decipher the look on Dean’s face; Dean stared down at him, lips set in a hard line, his green eyes flickering back and forth between Sam’s. Finally, he let out a small sound and dipped down, pressing their lips together softly. Sam kissed him back hungrily, trailing his hands up and down Dean’s back. He could feel Dean playing with the bottle of lubricant, turning it over in his hand, each turn scraping softly against Sam’s hip.
Dean was thinking, Sam could almost hear the wheels turning Dean’s mind. Dean had his lower lip between his teeth, leaving red indents whenever he shifted. Sam reached up, cupping Dean’s cheek, and moved Dean’s face upward until Dean met his eyes.
“Sammy, this is supposed to be wrong,” Dean whispered finally, running his fingers through Sam’s hair.
“It doesn’t feel wrong,” Sam replied, closing his eyes and leaning into Dean’s touch. He flicked his thumb across Dean’s cheekbone and opened his eyes again. “Does it?”
“No,” Dean whispered back, hands stilling at the base of Sam’s skull. “No, it really doesn’t.”
“Dean, can you do something for me?”
“Anything, Sammy. You know that.” Dean replied, fingers starting to move again.
“Stop over-thinking this, okay? I want to be with you, I’ve always wanted it… ever since I can remember. I just never thought you would agree. So… Just…” Sam sighed softly.
Neither one of them had ever been the greatest at words, actions being their dialogue of choice. But somehow, Sam knew that Dean needed this, needed to hear it. “This? What’s happening between us? It’s right, Dean. I love it, I love the way you make me feel and the way I feel around you. I trust you, with everything. And I want to be with you, Dean. You’re not taking advantage… I am choosing to be with you.”
Dean nodded once and then he was kissing Sam again, lips and teeth and heat and Sam was powerless against the renewed assault. He opened his mouth with a soft moan, Dean’s tongue pressing in and licking against the roof of Sam’s mouth, fingers dancing their way down Sam’s body.
Sam let his legs fall open, shifted to deepen their kiss. Dean slicked his fingers, pressed and twisted as he worked one and then a second inside of Sam. Sam moaned, grinding down on Dean’s fingers. He welcomed the burn, the stretch of his muscle contorting around Dean’s touch. Dean’s movements were deliberately slow, but consistent, slowly drawing out small, helpless sounds from Sam’s throat as he crooked his fingers and brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside.
“Dean,” Sam whispered, jerking his hips up, calves hooking around the back of Dean’s knees. “Dean, please.”
Sam opened his eyes, watching as Dean pulled back and slicked himself up. Their eyes met and Sam’s stomach flipped over at what he saw. Gone was the guarded, careful expression Dean had come to mask himself with whenever they’d fallen into bed together and Sam was given his brother’s true face, the façade gone. Dean’s eyes were soft, his lips slightly parted in awe as he stared down at Sam.
Slowly, eyes never leaving Sam’s, Dean lined himself up and pushed in between Sam’s rounded cheeks, enveloping himself in Sam’s tight heat. Sam gasped, his entire body responding already losing any semblance of self-control because Dean was looking at him, really looking at him. With love, admiration, desire.
“Sammy,” Dean groaned as he bottomed out, their bodies flush together. Sam flexed his legs, pulling Dean in closer, and met Dean’s lips in a searing kiss. They breathed together, moving as one, Sam pushing up with every one of Dean’s thrusts.
Because of the size of the backseat, Dean’s movements were slow and deep, the two of them rocking together in tandem. Sam dug his nails into Dean’s shoulders, giving his hips the leverage he needed to angle his hips. Dean hissed, biting down on Sam’s neck at the change in pressure.
“Fuck, Dean,” Sam panted, leaning his head back against the door. With each roll of Dean’s hips, Sam’s head bounced against the door, his cock slid between their sweat-slicked bodies in a delicious friction.
“So good, Sammy,” Dean whispered against his throat, tongue darting out to taste Sam’s skin and it sent a shudder through Sam’s body. “Take it so good, feel so good.”
“Right there, Dean,” Sam groaned body tightening around Dean, a white hot pressure building in his stomach. Dean ground down, fucking himself into Sam harder, pressing the head of his cock against Sam’s prostate. Sam moaned, legs trembling and then Dean’s hand was there; long, thick, fingers wrapping around his dick and pumping it in time with his thrusts. Dean swept his thumb over the head, fingers tightening around the shaft and Sam moaned again, the sound loud in the confines of the car.
“That’s right, Sammy,” Dean’s voice was wrecked, his breathing heavy and thick against Sam’s neck. “Come on, Sam… Come for me…”
Sam gasped as Dean twisted his wrist, tightening the tunnel of his grip before jacking down at the same time he bit into the skin of Sam’s throat, all tongue, and teeth, and heat.
Sam cried out, body stiffening as his orgasm ripped through him, painting Dean’s hand and their stomachs with his release. Dean cursed against Sam’s neck, hips stuttering as they fucked into Sam once more before his body started to shake, a low moan spilling from his lips as he came deep inside of Sam.
The moment Dean collapsed against his chest, Sam’s arms tightened around his back, holding him there. They lay there in silence and Sam could feel Dean’s heart pounding in tandem with his own. He smiled and closed his eyes, pressing his face into Dean’s hair.
“Dean,” he whispered, fingers trailing small circles over Dean’s shoulder blades.
“I know, Sammy,” Dean whispered back, shifting slightly so he wasn’t crushing Sam but making no move to get up or dressed. He pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s chest before he laid his head back down with a contented sigh. “Me too.”