Anything for You
Title: Anything for You
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest/slash)
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sex
Disclaimer: I sadly don't own them, just playing
Summary: Sam and Dean each have needs, are they willing to do anything, be anything for each other? First time fic.
A/N: This is my first Sam/Dean slash. Please be gentle. Beta'd by the amazing DeansBabyBird, who encouraged me to post.
Anything For You
“I have a friend in town, I think I’ll call,” Sam said as they pulled off the exit ramp.
“Friend?” Dean asked as he turned onto the street, following the signs towards the motel he’d chosen for the night. The town seemed full of flowery names inns and he’s picked the least obnoxious, the “Arbor Inn,” how bad could that be?
“Yeah, from Stanford,” Sam said quietly, he knew the effect that word usually had on Dean.
“Sounds good. I’ll find some place and grab a bite, maybe play some darts. We need gas money.” Dean pulled up in front of the office, he went in and registered. The woman was smiling kindly and offered Dean the king room twice. He finally convinced her to give them the “one king, one double” room. Probably designed for parents traveling with children, how many times did we stay in a room like that? Dad took the double, we got the king.
As soon as they were in the room, Sam disappeared to the shower, he said his friend would be by to pick him up in half an hour. Dean washed up in the sink and after banging on the door to let Sam know he was leaving, headed out in search of food and a little relief.
It had been a rough hunt. The kind that almost always involved an injury or two, the kind that always keyed Dean up to the point where he needed some kind of physical release. The last town he’d stopped in had several willing locals, but they weren’t what he wanted just then.
Dean sighed. Sam traveling with him again was good most days, some days it was hard. The last year before he’d picked Sam up at Stanford had been easier. As long as he steered clear of bars hunters frequented, he was free to pick up whoever he wanted. And sometimes who he wanted was male. He’d hidden it from his father and Sam for years. He’s been hard-core bi since one night when he was eighteen. That had been an eye opening night.
Dean smiled as he remembered the guy, Glenn, a year older, dark hair and long lashes over blue-green eyes. The house Glenn was renting had a poltergeist. Dean had solved the problem and Glenn offered a dinner as payment. Dean accepted, aware he had been attracted to him from the first time he’d seen him. After dinner they’d gone back to Glenn and gotten drunk. Dean still wasn’t sure if he would have let himself go quite as much as he did if it hadn’t been for the bottle of tequila and twelve limes, but he did. There was something exciting, gut wrenching, cock hardening exciting about the way Glenn tasted when he kissed Dean for the first time, something amazing about hard callused hands caressing him to a frenzy of lust. Something mind-blowing in the way if felt when Glenn took Dean in his mouth and deep throated him. Dean remembered hearing himself groaning, pleading, begging. Glenn was skilled and by the time he let Dean come, Dean was nearly sobbing.
Glenn had been the first. There were others, some named, some not, scattered throughout the country. It was hard when he was traveling with John and Sam to sneak away for that kind of company, but Dean had gotten good at spotting the bars that gender preference was a little more open, and he hit them occasionally, sitting with a pretty blond or brunette until father and brother left. After Sam had gone to school and John went off on hunts by himself, Dean was a little more open about it, and sometimes even wandered into the local gay bar.
That was where he was headed tonight. He needed release and he wanted something hard and hot and utterly meaningless. Yeah, it had been a rough hunt, Sam had nearly been killed-he was pretty sure Sam didn’t realize how close it had come, and Dean needed to escape that. He needed something to free him from the terror that had washed over him when he’d found Sam. Something to free him from the need to hold Sam and never let him go, something to keep him from...
He’d always know his feelings for his brother were dangerously ambiguous. It had been hard before Sam left for college, but Dean chalked that up to his new found bi-sexuality and the closeness the two had shared. Then Sam left, and Dean filled the emptiness in his life with a whole stream of women and men. The problem was, now that Sam was back, the feelings were, too. Full force, and it made the days harder and harder to get through.
Yeah, he needed tonight like he hadn’t needed one in awhile.
The bar was smoky, crowded and full of dark corners. Dean stopped by the bar and asked for the darts and ordered a drink and carried them over to the table by the dart board. He tossed back the shot and sipped his beer, letting his eyes drift around the bar. With a shrug he turned to the board and started tossing darts at it, a little haphazardly. He was here to get laid, but making a little money on the side wouldn’t hurt either.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Dean looked up. The man was tall, dark shaggy hair, soft blue-gray eyes. Dean swallowed, except for the eye color he looked a lot like… “Sure,” Dean smiled. “Darts?”
“For starters. Mark,” the guy said, brushing Dean’s elbow with his hand.
“Dean.”
Mark tossed his jacket over a chair and picked up the darts. He played fairly well, teasing Dean as they worked their way through 301. Mark ended up winning with a lucky throw and challenged Dean to Cutthroat Cricket.
“Bet you can’t get three bull’s-eyes at once,” Mark said, ordering another round.
“What do I get if I can?” Dean said, watching Mark run his tongue around the inside of a shot glass. They’d switched to B52s and Mark obviously liked to get every drop.
“Do it and see.” Mark smiled. Dean picked up the darts.
“One.” He tossed the first dart. “Two.” The second one hit close to the first in the center of the bull’s eye. “Three.” He turned to Mark. “There you go.”
“Here you go.” Mark stepped close and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close and crushing his mouth to Dean’s, sliding his tongue in, Dean returned the kiss, tongues writhing together. He felt his groan in his toes. Too damn long. He kissed back, letting the intensity of the moment build, knowing where it was going, enjoying the feeling of it, the feeling of hard hands running down his body. “Let’s go,” Mark groaned against his mouth. Dean pulled away and picked up his coat. Mark grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the door at the back of the bar. Dean let himself be pulled along, until he tripped over the long legs of someone in a back booth.
“Sorry,” Dean muttered glancing at the man whose legs he’d fallen over.
“Come on, Dean,” Mark tugged at him.
Dean was frozen to the spot, staring at the man he’d tripped over. Staring at the man he’d obviously interrupted.
Staring at Sam.
“Mark,” the man beside Sam said. “This is Sam, a friend from college. I met him my senior year.”
“Nice to meet you. Scott, this is Dean.” Mark wrapped a possessive hand around Dean’s upper arm.
Sam was staring at Dean, eyes wide and a little glassy. “Dean?”
“Hey.”
“You to know each other?” Mark looked from one to the other.
“Little,” Sam said, his words slurred a little.
“Great, we’ll talk later.” Mark pulled at Dean again. With a last look at Sam, Dean let himself be led out of the bar. Mark pinned him to the wall outside, pressing his mouth against him and sliding his hands under Dean’s shirt.
The mood was gone. Dean tried, but the longer he thought of Sam in the bar, drunk, being pawed over by…He couldn’t concentrate, he hadn’t even noticed Mark’s mouth was running over his chest. “No.”
Mark stopped. “No?”
“Yeah, man, sorry, no.”
“I thought…” Mark’s face was red, anger making bright spots on his cheeks.
“I did too.” Dean turned back to the bar and walked quickly to the booth Sam had been in. It was empty. He headed out the front door and saw Sam and Scott walking towards the parking lot. “Sam!” Dean called. His brother stopped and turned towards him.
“What?” Sam had the guilty expression Dean recognized from childhood. Sam had been caught doing something he was sure he wasn’t supposed to do.
“What happened to Mark?” Scott asked as he ran his hand down Sam’s back. The gesture was meant to indicate ownership. Dean knew it, Sam knew it, Scott knew it.
Dean ignored the question and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Come on, Sam,” Scott pulled him the other way.
“Sam…” Dean growled. “Let’s go.” Sam looked at him, defiant for a moment, then something crumbled in his eyes. He looked at Scott and shrugged.
“Sorry, catch ya later,” Sam slurred out, then stumbled after Dean as he pulled Sam towards the Impala. Dean opened the passenger door and shoved his brother in, slamming the door a little harder than he intended.
Calm down. He told himself. Dean paused, taking several deep breaths before opening the driver’s side door. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking, he ground his teeth together trying to still the shaking he felt.
“Dean?” Sam said in a small voice from beside him.
Dean shook his head, unable to answer. He was angry, the depth of his anger surprised him. The fact that it was jealous rage scared him. He drove the car in silence, aware Sam was trying to hide himself in the corner by the door.
When they got back to the motel, Dean stalked into the bathroom and locked the door. Breathing hard, trying to get control of himself. He couldn’t stay. He knew that now, his feelings for Sam were no longer ambiguous. He couldn’t…It was wrong, it was…If he had to watch Sam with someone else, anyone else, it would kill him. Oh, sure, he’d be happy Sam had someone, and slowly dying because…Dean splashed cold water on his face. No, he had to leave, that simple. Sam was better off without him, without this hanging between them.
He wrenched to door open and walked out, grabbing his bag and throwing his things in it.
“I’m sorry.” His brother’s voice was unrecognizable. “I knew you’d hate me when you found out, I knew you’d…” Dean turned to Sam. His brother was curled on the bed, tears streaming down his face.
“Sam?”
“You’re leaving. I knew you would. I knew dad would too, if he ever found out. Dean, I’m so sorry. I…” Sam seemed to curl in on himself.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed. “Sam…”
“If I promise to never…Will you stay?” Sam asked, looking at his hands.
“That’s not why I’m going, Sam.” Dean put a hand on Sam’s face and gently lifted it so he could see Sam’s eyes. “I’d do anything for you, Sam. Anything. I can’t do this. I can’t stay. It’s for your own good, Sam. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“I won’t ever…”
Dean swiped his thumb along Sam’s cheek. The stubble was almost soft. “It’s not that, Sammy. Not that at all.”
Sam’s gentle eyes met his, the lost look very nearly undid Dean. “Not that? You don’t hate…?”
“I was there too, remember?” Dean sighed.
“Stay, Dean.”
“I can’t Sam,” Dean said quietly. He waited for another protest, for anger-even for the punch he knew he deserved. None of them came. Sam just leaned against his shoulder and cried. Softly at first, then letting go and weeping. Dean felt answering tears in his own eyes. How will I survive without Sam? He was sure he wouldn’t, wondered if that was fair to Sam. He’ll be better off, this is for him. This is to keep him safe. Dean shifted around so he could brace his back against the headboard as he held Sam as he had so many times when they were children. He ran his hand through Sam’s hair. Sam held on tighter, the sobs were getting quieter, but the grip Sam had on Dean was slowly tightening, as if Sam hoped to hold him there forever. Finally the soft sound of his brother’s grief drifted into sleep. Dean dropped his cheek on the top of Sam’s head, letting himself have this one last moment.
A snort woke Sam. Unsure what it was, he held still listening. A soft rumble came from beneath his ear. Lifting his head, he realized he had been lying with his head on Dean’s chest and the snort had been Dean. Sam shifted, Dean’s arms tightened around him. With a sigh, Sam let his head drop back on Dean. He’s leaving. He said he never would.
Sam let the events of the night before play through his head. Going to the bar with Scott, he thought he’d seen someone who looked like Dean playing darts. He just figured it was a trick of the eyes and had gone back to one of the booths, letting Scott get him drunk. They’d met at Stanford, Scott knew about Jess. That didn’t change the fact he’d pursued Sam, and that Sam had let himself be caught. He’d known about himself for years. Dean’s decided preference for the opposite sex had never been Sam’s, and Sam’s “first” had been his best friend his sophomore year in high school. Sam had wanted to tell Dean more than once. It had come close in a small town in Colorado, when Sam was sure he’d seen Dean leaving the same bar. But he’d never mentioned it. He was afraid Dean would hate him.
“I was there too, remember?” Dean’s words played in his head. Dean had been there. That fact turned Sam’s world on end, just a little. So, if that wasn’t it, what was it? “It’s for your own good. It’s not you, it’s me.” Dean had sounded desperate, heartbroken. Sam heard it in his brother’s voice. “If it’s not me, then what?” he whispered in the dark.
Sam sighed. Dean muttered in his sleep, reacting to the sigh without waking. A gentle hand wrapped itself around Sam’s head, fingers running through Sam’s hair. “I’d do anything for you. Anything.” Dean had said. Then why are you leaving me, Dean? Sam remembered that gentle touch, Dean’s hand on his face. There was something there. Sam stopped and let the scene play in his head again. “Anything. I can’t do this, I can’t stay.” Then later the feeling of Dean’s hand in his hair, Dean’s arms around him comforting him as he wept.
And suddenly he knew. He understood. Why didn’t you say anything? He asked his brother silently. Sam knew the answer. He felt the tears in his eyes again. Oh, Dean. He pulled Dean against him and laid his cheek against Dean’s, his brother shifted closer to him with a soft sigh. Sam listened to the sound of Dean’s heart for a minute before he drifted back to sleep.
The sun through faded curtains woke Dean. He was nestled against his brother, one of Sam’s large hands wrapped around his shoulder. He sighed, listening to his brother sleep, not wanting to leave, knowing he had to. He tried to shift off the bed. Sam’s hand tightened on his shoulder.
“Don’t leave,” Sam said quietly.
“I can’t stay, Sammy, I’m sorry,” Dean said as gently as possible. He could hear how broken he was in his own voice, he hoped Sam couldn’t hear it.
“You know I’d do anything for you, too?” Sam said as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “I left Jess without a second thought. All you had to say is you wanted me with you, and I went, Dean.” Sam sighed and raised his head to look in Dean’s eyes. “When you were electrocuted I looked for any thing to save you I could. Even if it meant my own life. Being back with you, Dean, I realized…” Sam stopped himself. “Stay.”
“I can’t, Sam. This is for you.”
“Stay,” Sam said again, letting go of Dean’s shoulder and cupping Dean’s face in his hand. He brushed his thumb over Dean’s face, as Dean had done to him the night before. Dean closed his eyes, trying to hide his pain from Sam. “Stay,” Sam said again.
“I can’t.”
“Stay,” Sam whispered. Dean shook his head, unable to get the words out that time. “Stay.” And Sam’s lips brushed his, gentle, tentative.
Dean froze at the touch. “Sam, no.” He opened his eyes to look into his brother’s tear-filled ones.
“You said anything for me, Dean.” Sam put his hands on either side of Dean’s face. “Anything?”
“Sam, no, this is why I have to…” Sam’s mouth stopped the words. This time the gentle kiss was more insistent. Dean tore himself free. “Sam…”
“And I’d do anything for you,” Sam said against his mouth. Dean tried to push Sam away, his brother shifted enough to pin him in place and then crushed his mouth against Dean’s, gentle but demanding. He slid his tongue along Dean’s sensitive lips before sliding inside. With a groan he couldn’t stop Dean kissed Sam, let his tongue slide into Sam’s mouth, running along palate and teeth, writhing around Sam’s tongue in a passionate dance. He felt himself reacting to the kiss, felt his resolve slipping as the kiss slowly deepened.
When Sam’s hands started pulling at his shirt, Dean tore himself free again and rolled off the bed. “No, Sam,” he said desperately.
“Don’t you want this?” Sam asked as he stood and walked where Dean was, hand on the door.
“Sammy…”
“Yeah, I thought so.” And all gentleness was gone, Sam pressed him against the door, lips crushing his, tongue forcing its way in. Dean fought for a moment more and then gave way, opening his mouth and kissing Sam with all the desperate longing he’d kept to himself. He heard himself groan as Sam slid his hands under his shirt. Dean raised one hand and put it on the back of Sam’s head, pulling Sam closer and he kissed him with desperate need, the coppery taste of blood drifting over clashing tongues.
Sam pulled him away from the door. Before Dean could react, he felt the bed against his knees. Sam slid one large hand around him and lowered them onto the bed, his mouth never leaving Dean’s as the dropped down. Dean ran his hands under Sam’s shirt, letting his fingers drift over the hard muscles and soft skin. Sam groaned and pulled his mouth away, tugging Dean’s shirt over his head and discarding his as well before crushing his mouth to Dean’s again. Dean slid his hands down Sam’s back and cupped his ass. Sam groaned and thrust against him with a growl. Dean could feel Sam’s erection pressing against his cock. He moaned into Sam’s mouth, grinding his hips against Sam.
Sam pulled his mouth away from Dean’s and slowly kissed his way down Dean’s neck, tongue and lips igniting a trail of molten heat that drifted over his body. Sam ran his teeth over Dean’s nipple, gently rolling it between his teeth. Dean groaned and arched his body against Sam as Sam ran his hand along Dean’s belly, dragging nails along sensitive skin, and then slowly, slowly ran his hand over Dean’s cock before cupping his balls and pressing his thumb into the base.
“God,” Dean groaned. “Sam…”
Dean opened his eyes as Sam fumbled with the button, he watched as Sam slid his jeans and boxers off, quickly tossing his own on the floor beside Deans, before catching Dean’s mouth with his again. Sam slid his hard cock along Dean’s and he fucked Dean’s mouth with his tongue. Dean groaned out Sam’s name as Sam gently ran teeth along his lips. Sam slid his mouth down Dean’s neck, stopping to nip at the sensitive hollow in Dean’s throat before moving on. Dean moaned and arched against him, his body thrusting up against Sam. Sam’s lips moved over his belly, his tongue circling the belly button before sliding down.
When Sam’s mouth closed around the head of his cock, his tongue gently circling the sensitive head, Dean buried his hands in Sam’s hair, trying not to just thrust into the mouth that was slowly driving him insane. Sam slid his mouth down Dean’s engorged cock, letting his tongue run along the shaft as he slowly took Dean into his mouth. Dean growled as Sam’s mouth slid up and down. Dean’s hips were bucking as Sam continued the slow torture with his mouth. “Sammy…” Dean groaned, grabbing at Sam’s shoulders. Sam responded to the pressure and slid his mouth back up Dean’s body.
Dean put his hands on either side of Sam’s face, running his thumb along Sam’s lips, watching the passion play in Sam’s eyes. He pressed his mouth against Sam’s, offering him a kiss. Sam opened his mouth and Dean gently probed Sam’s mouth with his tongue. He could taste the alcohol from the night before, the salty-sour taste of himself and something he knew was Sam. He let his mouth explore Sam’s before running his lips along the soft skin on Sam’s neck. Sam groaned, thrusting against him. Sweat and pre-cum slicked their bodies and Sam rocked against him, Dean matched Sam’s rhythm, pulling Sam’s mouth back to his. Sam groaned, growling a little, he reached between them and caught both their cocks in one large hand, sliding up and down. Dean’s hips were bucking desperately against Sam as his brother kept the slow rhythm of his hand, driving Dean closer to the edge, the pressure building in his balls was threatening to spill over.
Sam was moaning, the soft sound a vibration against Dean as he fucked Sam’s mouth with his tongue, drawing another small groan from Sam and another. The sounds were beginning to drive Dean wild, out of his mind. He thrust against Sam’s hand as Sam matched his rhythm with his own hips, thrusting against Dean.
“Oh, god, Dean,” Sam groaned and pulled his mouth away from Dean’s, biting the juncture of his neck. “Dean…”
Dean’s body was out of his control, the slick heat of Sam’s hand, of Sam against his cock, against his body was too much. His hips lost their rhythm as the building pressure finally spilled over in an explosion of ecstasy. He heard his voice calling Sam’s name, and Sam’s response as he shuddered against Dean, their come covering their chests as they rode out the climax, Sam milking them through it, until Dean collapsed back on the bed, panting, trying to draw air into his lungs, swallowing against a sore throat.
Sam gently cleaned them up with the sheet and then pulled Dean against him, cradling Dean in loving arms. He sighed softly. “Are we okay, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean could hear a tremble of fear in his brother’s voice.
Dean pushed himself up on one arm, cupping Sam’s face in his hand, running his thumb along the stubble on his cheek. He looked into Sam’s hazel eyes, and wondered if the same fear and love were reflected in his own. Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, gentle, loving, passionate, his hand sliding to the back of Sam’s head. Sam’s lifted a hand and ran it though Dean’s hair. “Yeah, Sammy, we’re okay. Better than okay, I think.” He settled back against Sam’s shoulder, laying his hand on Sam’s chest so he could feel the beat of his brother’s heart.
“No more trying to leave, Dean,” Sam said softly, his mouth against Dean’s hair. “No more bars or dark alleys…”
“No more friends from college,” Dean said.
“Nope,” Sam sighed, his warm breath brushing Dean’s face.
“I get to be on top next time,” Dean said with a smile, he knew Sam felt it.
“Anything for you, Dean.”
“Yeah, Sammy, anything for you, too.”
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest/slash)
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sex
Disclaimer: I sadly don't own them, just playing
Summary: Sam and Dean each have needs, are they willing to do anything, be anything for each other? First time fic.
A/N: This is my first Sam/Dean slash. Please be gentle. Beta'd by the amazing DeansBabyBird, who encouraged me to post.
Anything For You
“I have a friend in town, I think I’ll call,” Sam said as they pulled off the exit ramp.
“Friend?” Dean asked as he turned onto the street, following the signs towards the motel he’d chosen for the night. The town seemed full of flowery names inns and he’s picked the least obnoxious, the “Arbor Inn,” how bad could that be?
“Yeah, from Stanford,” Sam said quietly, he knew the effect that word usually had on Dean.
“Sounds good. I’ll find some place and grab a bite, maybe play some darts. We need gas money.” Dean pulled up in front of the office, he went in and registered. The woman was smiling kindly and offered Dean the king room twice. He finally convinced her to give them the “one king, one double” room. Probably designed for parents traveling with children, how many times did we stay in a room like that? Dad took the double, we got the king.
As soon as they were in the room, Sam disappeared to the shower, he said his friend would be by to pick him up in half an hour. Dean washed up in the sink and after banging on the door to let Sam know he was leaving, headed out in search of food and a little relief.
It had been a rough hunt. The kind that almost always involved an injury or two, the kind that always keyed Dean up to the point where he needed some kind of physical release. The last town he’d stopped in had several willing locals, but they weren’t what he wanted just then.
Dean sighed. Sam traveling with him again was good most days, some days it was hard. The last year before he’d picked Sam up at Stanford had been easier. As long as he steered clear of bars hunters frequented, he was free to pick up whoever he wanted. And sometimes who he wanted was male. He’d hidden it from his father and Sam for years. He’s been hard-core bi since one night when he was eighteen. That had been an eye opening night.
Dean smiled as he remembered the guy, Glenn, a year older, dark hair and long lashes over blue-green eyes. The house Glenn was renting had a poltergeist. Dean had solved the problem and Glenn offered a dinner as payment. Dean accepted, aware he had been attracted to him from the first time he’d seen him. After dinner they’d gone back to Glenn and gotten drunk. Dean still wasn’t sure if he would have let himself go quite as much as he did if it hadn’t been for the bottle of tequila and twelve limes, but he did. There was something exciting, gut wrenching, cock hardening exciting about the way Glenn tasted when he kissed Dean for the first time, something amazing about hard callused hands caressing him to a frenzy of lust. Something mind-blowing in the way if felt when Glenn took Dean in his mouth and deep throated him. Dean remembered hearing himself groaning, pleading, begging. Glenn was skilled and by the time he let Dean come, Dean was nearly sobbing.
Glenn had been the first. There were others, some named, some not, scattered throughout the country. It was hard when he was traveling with John and Sam to sneak away for that kind of company, but Dean had gotten good at spotting the bars that gender preference was a little more open, and he hit them occasionally, sitting with a pretty blond or brunette until father and brother left. After Sam had gone to school and John went off on hunts by himself, Dean was a little more open about it, and sometimes even wandered into the local gay bar.
That was where he was headed tonight. He needed release and he wanted something hard and hot and utterly meaningless. Yeah, it had been a rough hunt, Sam had nearly been killed-he was pretty sure Sam didn’t realize how close it had come, and Dean needed to escape that. He needed something to free him from the terror that had washed over him when he’d found Sam. Something to free him from the need to hold Sam and never let him go, something to keep him from...
He’d always know his feelings for his brother were dangerously ambiguous. It had been hard before Sam left for college, but Dean chalked that up to his new found bi-sexuality and the closeness the two had shared. Then Sam left, and Dean filled the emptiness in his life with a whole stream of women and men. The problem was, now that Sam was back, the feelings were, too. Full force, and it made the days harder and harder to get through.
Yeah, he needed tonight like he hadn’t needed one in awhile.
The bar was smoky, crowded and full of dark corners. Dean stopped by the bar and asked for the darts and ordered a drink and carried them over to the table by the dart board. He tossed back the shot and sipped his beer, letting his eyes drift around the bar. With a shrug he turned to the board and started tossing darts at it, a little haphazardly. He was here to get laid, but making a little money on the side wouldn’t hurt either.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Dean looked up. The man was tall, dark shaggy hair, soft blue-gray eyes. Dean swallowed, except for the eye color he looked a lot like… “Sure,” Dean smiled. “Darts?”
“For starters. Mark,” the guy said, brushing Dean’s elbow with his hand.
“Dean.”
Mark tossed his jacket over a chair and picked up the darts. He played fairly well, teasing Dean as they worked their way through 301. Mark ended up winning with a lucky throw and challenged Dean to Cutthroat Cricket.
“Bet you can’t get three bull’s-eyes at once,” Mark said, ordering another round.
“What do I get if I can?” Dean said, watching Mark run his tongue around the inside of a shot glass. They’d switched to B52s and Mark obviously liked to get every drop.
“Do it and see.” Mark smiled. Dean picked up the darts.
“One.” He tossed the first dart. “Two.” The second one hit close to the first in the center of the bull’s eye. “Three.” He turned to Mark. “There you go.”
“Here you go.” Mark stepped close and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close and crushing his mouth to Dean’s, sliding his tongue in, Dean returned the kiss, tongues writhing together. He felt his groan in his toes. Too damn long. He kissed back, letting the intensity of the moment build, knowing where it was going, enjoying the feeling of it, the feeling of hard hands running down his body. “Let’s go,” Mark groaned against his mouth. Dean pulled away and picked up his coat. Mark grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the door at the back of the bar. Dean let himself be pulled along, until he tripped over the long legs of someone in a back booth.
“Sorry,” Dean muttered glancing at the man whose legs he’d fallen over.
“Come on, Dean,” Mark tugged at him.
Dean was frozen to the spot, staring at the man he’d tripped over. Staring at the man he’d obviously interrupted.
Staring at Sam.
“Mark,” the man beside Sam said. “This is Sam, a friend from college. I met him my senior year.”
“Nice to meet you. Scott, this is Dean.” Mark wrapped a possessive hand around Dean’s upper arm.
Sam was staring at Dean, eyes wide and a little glassy. “Dean?”
“Hey.”
“You to know each other?” Mark looked from one to the other.
“Little,” Sam said, his words slurred a little.
“Great, we’ll talk later.” Mark pulled at Dean again. With a last look at Sam, Dean let himself be led out of the bar. Mark pinned him to the wall outside, pressing his mouth against him and sliding his hands under Dean’s shirt.
The mood was gone. Dean tried, but the longer he thought of Sam in the bar, drunk, being pawed over by…He couldn’t concentrate, he hadn’t even noticed Mark’s mouth was running over his chest. “No.”
Mark stopped. “No?”
“Yeah, man, sorry, no.”
“I thought…” Mark’s face was red, anger making bright spots on his cheeks.
“I did too.” Dean turned back to the bar and walked quickly to the booth Sam had been in. It was empty. He headed out the front door and saw Sam and Scott walking towards the parking lot. “Sam!” Dean called. His brother stopped and turned towards him.
“What?” Sam had the guilty expression Dean recognized from childhood. Sam had been caught doing something he was sure he wasn’t supposed to do.
“What happened to Mark?” Scott asked as he ran his hand down Sam’s back. The gesture was meant to indicate ownership. Dean knew it, Sam knew it, Scott knew it.
Dean ignored the question and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Come on, Sam,” Scott pulled him the other way.
“Sam…” Dean growled. “Let’s go.” Sam looked at him, defiant for a moment, then something crumbled in his eyes. He looked at Scott and shrugged.
“Sorry, catch ya later,” Sam slurred out, then stumbled after Dean as he pulled Sam towards the Impala. Dean opened the passenger door and shoved his brother in, slamming the door a little harder than he intended.
Calm down. He told himself. Dean paused, taking several deep breaths before opening the driver’s side door. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking, he ground his teeth together trying to still the shaking he felt.
“Dean?” Sam said in a small voice from beside him.
Dean shook his head, unable to answer. He was angry, the depth of his anger surprised him. The fact that it was jealous rage scared him. He drove the car in silence, aware Sam was trying to hide himself in the corner by the door.
When they got back to the motel, Dean stalked into the bathroom and locked the door. Breathing hard, trying to get control of himself. He couldn’t stay. He knew that now, his feelings for Sam were no longer ambiguous. He couldn’t…It was wrong, it was…If he had to watch Sam with someone else, anyone else, it would kill him. Oh, sure, he’d be happy Sam had someone, and slowly dying because…Dean splashed cold water on his face. No, he had to leave, that simple. Sam was better off without him, without this hanging between them.
He wrenched to door open and walked out, grabbing his bag and throwing his things in it.
“I’m sorry.” His brother’s voice was unrecognizable. “I knew you’d hate me when you found out, I knew you’d…” Dean turned to Sam. His brother was curled on the bed, tears streaming down his face.
“Sam?”
“You’re leaving. I knew you would. I knew dad would too, if he ever found out. Dean, I’m so sorry. I…” Sam seemed to curl in on himself.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed. “Sam…”
“If I promise to never…Will you stay?” Sam asked, looking at his hands.
“That’s not why I’m going, Sam.” Dean put a hand on Sam’s face and gently lifted it so he could see Sam’s eyes. “I’d do anything for you, Sam. Anything. I can’t do this. I can’t stay. It’s for your own good, Sam. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“I won’t ever…”
Dean swiped his thumb along Sam’s cheek. The stubble was almost soft. “It’s not that, Sammy. Not that at all.”
Sam’s gentle eyes met his, the lost look very nearly undid Dean. “Not that? You don’t hate…?”
“I was there too, remember?” Dean sighed.
“Stay, Dean.”
“I can’t Sam,” Dean said quietly. He waited for another protest, for anger-even for the punch he knew he deserved. None of them came. Sam just leaned against his shoulder and cried. Softly at first, then letting go and weeping. Dean felt answering tears in his own eyes. How will I survive without Sam? He was sure he wouldn’t, wondered if that was fair to Sam. He’ll be better off, this is for him. This is to keep him safe. Dean shifted around so he could brace his back against the headboard as he held Sam as he had so many times when they were children. He ran his hand through Sam’s hair. Sam held on tighter, the sobs were getting quieter, but the grip Sam had on Dean was slowly tightening, as if Sam hoped to hold him there forever. Finally the soft sound of his brother’s grief drifted into sleep. Dean dropped his cheek on the top of Sam’s head, letting himself have this one last moment.
A snort woke Sam. Unsure what it was, he held still listening. A soft rumble came from beneath his ear. Lifting his head, he realized he had been lying with his head on Dean’s chest and the snort had been Dean. Sam shifted, Dean’s arms tightened around him. With a sigh, Sam let his head drop back on Dean. He’s leaving. He said he never would.
Sam let the events of the night before play through his head. Going to the bar with Scott, he thought he’d seen someone who looked like Dean playing darts. He just figured it was a trick of the eyes and had gone back to one of the booths, letting Scott get him drunk. They’d met at Stanford, Scott knew about Jess. That didn’t change the fact he’d pursued Sam, and that Sam had let himself be caught. He’d known about himself for years. Dean’s decided preference for the opposite sex had never been Sam’s, and Sam’s “first” had been his best friend his sophomore year in high school. Sam had wanted to tell Dean more than once. It had come close in a small town in Colorado, when Sam was sure he’d seen Dean leaving the same bar. But he’d never mentioned it. He was afraid Dean would hate him.
“I was there too, remember?” Dean’s words played in his head. Dean had been there. That fact turned Sam’s world on end, just a little. So, if that wasn’t it, what was it? “It’s for your own good. It’s not you, it’s me.” Dean had sounded desperate, heartbroken. Sam heard it in his brother’s voice. “If it’s not me, then what?” he whispered in the dark.
Sam sighed. Dean muttered in his sleep, reacting to the sigh without waking. A gentle hand wrapped itself around Sam’s head, fingers running through Sam’s hair. “I’d do anything for you. Anything.” Dean had said. Then why are you leaving me, Dean? Sam remembered that gentle touch, Dean’s hand on his face. There was something there. Sam stopped and let the scene play in his head again. “Anything. I can’t do this, I can’t stay.” Then later the feeling of Dean’s hand in his hair, Dean’s arms around him comforting him as he wept.
And suddenly he knew. He understood. Why didn’t you say anything? He asked his brother silently. Sam knew the answer. He felt the tears in his eyes again. Oh, Dean. He pulled Dean against him and laid his cheek against Dean’s, his brother shifted closer to him with a soft sigh. Sam listened to the sound of Dean’s heart for a minute before he drifted back to sleep.
The sun through faded curtains woke Dean. He was nestled against his brother, one of Sam’s large hands wrapped around his shoulder. He sighed, listening to his brother sleep, not wanting to leave, knowing he had to. He tried to shift off the bed. Sam’s hand tightened on his shoulder.
“Don’t leave,” Sam said quietly.
“I can’t stay, Sammy, I’m sorry,” Dean said as gently as possible. He could hear how broken he was in his own voice, he hoped Sam couldn’t hear it.
“You know I’d do anything for you, too?” Sam said as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “I left Jess without a second thought. All you had to say is you wanted me with you, and I went, Dean.” Sam sighed and raised his head to look in Dean’s eyes. “When you were electrocuted I looked for any thing to save you I could. Even if it meant my own life. Being back with you, Dean, I realized…” Sam stopped himself. “Stay.”
“I can’t, Sam. This is for you.”
“Stay,” Sam said again, letting go of Dean’s shoulder and cupping Dean’s face in his hand. He brushed his thumb over Dean’s face, as Dean had done to him the night before. Dean closed his eyes, trying to hide his pain from Sam. “Stay,” Sam said again.
“I can’t.”
“Stay,” Sam whispered. Dean shook his head, unable to get the words out that time. “Stay.” And Sam’s lips brushed his, gentle, tentative.
Dean froze at the touch. “Sam, no.” He opened his eyes to look into his brother’s tear-filled ones.
“You said anything for me, Dean.” Sam put his hands on either side of Dean’s face. “Anything?”
“Sam, no, this is why I have to…” Sam’s mouth stopped the words. This time the gentle kiss was more insistent. Dean tore himself free. “Sam…”
“And I’d do anything for you,” Sam said against his mouth. Dean tried to push Sam away, his brother shifted enough to pin him in place and then crushed his mouth against Dean’s, gentle but demanding. He slid his tongue along Dean’s sensitive lips before sliding inside. With a groan he couldn’t stop Dean kissed Sam, let his tongue slide into Sam’s mouth, running along palate and teeth, writhing around Sam’s tongue in a passionate dance. He felt himself reacting to the kiss, felt his resolve slipping as the kiss slowly deepened.
When Sam’s hands started pulling at his shirt, Dean tore himself free again and rolled off the bed. “No, Sam,” he said desperately.
“Don’t you want this?” Sam asked as he stood and walked where Dean was, hand on the door.
“Sammy…”
“Yeah, I thought so.” And all gentleness was gone, Sam pressed him against the door, lips crushing his, tongue forcing its way in. Dean fought for a moment more and then gave way, opening his mouth and kissing Sam with all the desperate longing he’d kept to himself. He heard himself groan as Sam slid his hands under his shirt. Dean raised one hand and put it on the back of Sam’s head, pulling Sam closer and he kissed him with desperate need, the coppery taste of blood drifting over clashing tongues.
Sam pulled him away from the door. Before Dean could react, he felt the bed against his knees. Sam slid one large hand around him and lowered them onto the bed, his mouth never leaving Dean’s as the dropped down. Dean ran his hands under Sam’s shirt, letting his fingers drift over the hard muscles and soft skin. Sam groaned and pulled his mouth away, tugging Dean’s shirt over his head and discarding his as well before crushing his mouth to Dean’s again. Dean slid his hands down Sam’s back and cupped his ass. Sam groaned and thrust against him with a growl. Dean could feel Sam’s erection pressing against his cock. He moaned into Sam’s mouth, grinding his hips against Sam.
Sam pulled his mouth away from Dean’s and slowly kissed his way down Dean’s neck, tongue and lips igniting a trail of molten heat that drifted over his body. Sam ran his teeth over Dean’s nipple, gently rolling it between his teeth. Dean groaned and arched his body against Sam as Sam ran his hand along Dean’s belly, dragging nails along sensitive skin, and then slowly, slowly ran his hand over Dean’s cock before cupping his balls and pressing his thumb into the base.
“God,” Dean groaned. “Sam…”
Dean opened his eyes as Sam fumbled with the button, he watched as Sam slid his jeans and boxers off, quickly tossing his own on the floor beside Deans, before catching Dean’s mouth with his again. Sam slid his hard cock along Dean’s and he fucked Dean’s mouth with his tongue. Dean groaned out Sam’s name as Sam gently ran teeth along his lips. Sam slid his mouth down Dean’s neck, stopping to nip at the sensitive hollow in Dean’s throat before moving on. Dean moaned and arched against him, his body thrusting up against Sam. Sam’s lips moved over his belly, his tongue circling the belly button before sliding down.
When Sam’s mouth closed around the head of his cock, his tongue gently circling the sensitive head, Dean buried his hands in Sam’s hair, trying not to just thrust into the mouth that was slowly driving him insane. Sam slid his mouth down Dean’s engorged cock, letting his tongue run along the shaft as he slowly took Dean into his mouth. Dean growled as Sam’s mouth slid up and down. Dean’s hips were bucking as Sam continued the slow torture with his mouth. “Sammy…” Dean groaned, grabbing at Sam’s shoulders. Sam responded to the pressure and slid his mouth back up Dean’s body.
Dean put his hands on either side of Sam’s face, running his thumb along Sam’s lips, watching the passion play in Sam’s eyes. He pressed his mouth against Sam’s, offering him a kiss. Sam opened his mouth and Dean gently probed Sam’s mouth with his tongue. He could taste the alcohol from the night before, the salty-sour taste of himself and something he knew was Sam. He let his mouth explore Sam’s before running his lips along the soft skin on Sam’s neck. Sam groaned, thrusting against him. Sweat and pre-cum slicked their bodies and Sam rocked against him, Dean matched Sam’s rhythm, pulling Sam’s mouth back to his. Sam groaned, growling a little, he reached between them and caught both their cocks in one large hand, sliding up and down. Dean’s hips were bucking desperately against Sam as his brother kept the slow rhythm of his hand, driving Dean closer to the edge, the pressure building in his balls was threatening to spill over.
Sam was moaning, the soft sound a vibration against Dean as he fucked Sam’s mouth with his tongue, drawing another small groan from Sam and another. The sounds were beginning to drive Dean wild, out of his mind. He thrust against Sam’s hand as Sam matched his rhythm with his own hips, thrusting against Dean.
“Oh, god, Dean,” Sam groaned and pulled his mouth away from Dean’s, biting the juncture of his neck. “Dean…”
Dean’s body was out of his control, the slick heat of Sam’s hand, of Sam against his cock, against his body was too much. His hips lost their rhythm as the building pressure finally spilled over in an explosion of ecstasy. He heard his voice calling Sam’s name, and Sam’s response as he shuddered against Dean, their come covering their chests as they rode out the climax, Sam milking them through it, until Dean collapsed back on the bed, panting, trying to draw air into his lungs, swallowing against a sore throat.
Sam gently cleaned them up with the sheet and then pulled Dean against him, cradling Dean in loving arms. He sighed softly. “Are we okay, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean could hear a tremble of fear in his brother’s voice.
Dean pushed himself up on one arm, cupping Sam’s face in his hand, running his thumb along the stubble on his cheek. He looked into Sam’s hazel eyes, and wondered if the same fear and love were reflected in his own. Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, gentle, loving, passionate, his hand sliding to the back of Sam’s head. Sam’s lifted a hand and ran it though Dean’s hair. “Yeah, Sammy, we’re okay. Better than okay, I think.” He settled back against Sam’s shoulder, laying his hand on Sam’s chest so he could feel the beat of his brother’s heart.
“No more trying to leave, Dean,” Sam said softly, his mouth against Dean’s hair. “No more bars or dark alleys…”
“No more friends from college,” Dean said.
“Nope,” Sam sighed, his warm breath brushing Dean’s face.
“I get to be on top next time,” Dean said with a smile, he knew Sam felt it.
“Anything for you, Dean.”
“Yeah, Sammy, anything for you, too.”