Doing It Right
Doing It Right
He knew it was going to lead to trouble. He knew it, but he didn’t even think about stopping. Whatever this was between them, this need to be with one another was never going to go away and after a year, he was tired of fighting it. He’d just come home from a party and he was too drunk to care about what anyone would say if they found out. Too horny from some girl - who was only a replacement anyway- who passed out before he could get any action. He knew the arguments already, like they weren’t as ingrained on his soul as they were his brother’s. Brothers. It didn’t matter though, not in the face of what he felt. Were they too young to feel like this? He’d heard that too. Hell, his brother had brought him books from the library talking about teen hormones and the things they did. Yeah, he got it. Too young, but they weren’t really, not with the life they’d lead.
He moved silently into the room, smiling at the sleeping figure, sprawled out on the bed. Water was still drying on his skin and he was dressed only in a towel. Must have come home and taken a shower but passed out before he could finish up.
He was okay with that. He stripped out of his own clothes, and made his way to his bed. In the bedside drawer was what he needed. He was quiet, working himself nice and slow. He’d always know it would have to be like this, that he’d have to take this because his brother would never be ready to give in. His fingers were covered in slick when he was done with his own preparations and he slid over to the other bed, pulling his brother’s towel away from his hips. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around his brother’s cock, soft, strong pulls that would feel more like a wet dream than a wake up call. His brother moaned softly and God, he needed to hear that again. He kept working his hand, nice and steady until he realized his brother was waking up. He straddled his hips then and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss against his brother’s lips. He felt clean, safe. Warm and strong. Love, was what he felt when he was leaning into his brother’s body. He pressed another kiss to his brother’s lips and then his eyes snapped open.
“Sammy?”
“Dean,” he’d dreamed about this for the past year. He knew his brother watched him, knew he wanted to touch but he was always so damn careful being the good brother. Sam had been watching back though, always aware of what he wanted. And he wanted to give this to his brother. So he didn’t wait for Dean’s permission and he didn’t wait for his brother to wake up further. He pressed another kiss against his brother’s lips, then sat up and lined his body up with his brother’s. Before Dean could stop him, Sam lowered himself onto Dean. He closed his eyes at the burn of it, bit his lip to stifle any sound that his brother might take for pain. He’s stretched himself open but it was nothing compared to Dean inside him. He wanted to feel it though and he could manage pain.
“Oh God, Sammy, no-” Dean tried to push him off but Sam wrapped his legs tight around his brother and didn’t let go.
“Know you want this, Dean,” he pressed his lips up again, hoping his brother would kiss him back. He didn’t. “Wanted to give this to you, want to be yours and keep you as mine. I love you, Dean. Don’t you want this?”
He could feel his brother trembling under him, but then Dean surprised him, flipping him off and pushing him down onto his back. “Jesus, is this what you want, Sammy?” Dean voice was hard as he asked, slamming his cock back into Sam’s hole. He bit his lip at the pain but he thrust his hips up anyway. If it meant he could finally have Dean, he’d skin himself raw.
“Yes,” he grabbed Dean’s shoulders and tried to pull him closer, “Dean, please.”
Dean’s shoulders didn’t budge, but then his hips were pressing in and the pain was fading fast as his brother fucked into him. He wrapped his legs around Dean, encouraging him to move faster. Dean finally gave in to Sam’s needs and crashed their lips together, the innocent, chaste kiss of earlier gone as he ravaged Sam’s mouth with his tongue.
Sam opened to Dean and nothing else mattered. As soon as his brother’s fingers wrapped around his cock, Sam’s body seized up, orgasm ripping through him. Dean held on longer, pumping his hips into Sam until he finally came with Sam’s name whispered into his skin.
They stayed like that for a long time, until Dean’s arms started to shake with the effort to keep his weight off Sam. When he pulled away, Sam pulled him back into the bed with him, peppering his brother’s face with soft kisses. He tried to reach his lips again, tried to find the soft, sweet press of lips he’d waken his brother up with for months now, but Dean didn’t let him.
When Sam woke the next morning his brother was in the other room. He didn’t say anything about the night before, but when Sam leaned in for his ritual morning kiss, Dean stepped back, grabbing a plate and putting it on the counter for Sam. “Breakfast,” Dean’s voice was carefully neutral when he spoke and when Sam smiled at him, trying to get back a little of the good humor his brother usually showed, Dean’s eyes caught Sam’s lips for a moment before looking up, something sinful behind them before he turned away to use up the rest of the pancake batter.
He realized then that he’d given up his playful, affectionate brother for something darker. He didn’t understand why, but he knew, given enough time, he could get him back. Given enough time, he could get anything from Dean.
**
Sam tried not to think too hard about it most of the time. It worked. The past was the past and they had enough shit on a daily basis to keep it that way, but some days were different and if there was a day Sam dreaded on the calendar, it was today. Eliot was packing a bag, getting ready to head out on a hunt, leaving Sam and Dean to themselves. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last but it was bad fucking timing, even if Sam wouldn’t explain why.
He pushed the thought from his mind, pushed away ten years of running and hiding and trying to make up for what he’d done wrong. He couldn’t, not ever. Ten years ago he’d taken something he wanted, taken what he knew he could have, but it had broken his brother and Sam had still never fixed that. Today of all days, the first reminder of it since Dean had come back to him, he couldn’t get his head out of it.
A whistle broke his concentration and he realized he was alone in the house. They’d rented the place out for the month, a house at the end of a long street, no neighbors close by and plenty of hunting to do in the local area. He got up and walked out, listening to the screen door slam shut behind him as he stood on the porch. Eliot came up the steps and Sam saw his bags were already loaded. He smiled at Eliot but his lover looked at him with concern.
“You okay, Sam?” he asked as he brought one hand up to Sam’s neck. “I’m just gonna be out a few days. Call you when I get settled.”
“Yeah, it’s fine Eliot,” he said, smiling softly. “Nothing to do with this … just caught in my head too much today.”
“Wasn’t hard to notice.”
Sam gave a soft laugh at that and then Eliot was pressing his lips to Sam’s in a soft kiss. Eliot might be hard as nails on the job, but he was a compassionate lover, warm and caring and the depth of affection that ran between them came alive as their lips met. It was a chaste kiss though, something that reminded Sam too much of clean and showers and innocence. Something that tasted a lot like his brother might still if he’d just held on a little longer.
Eliot smiled up at him as he nodded one last time, then headed down to the truck. Sam watched as Dean went to the driver’s side and closed the door behind Eliot. “Don’t forget to call,” Dean said as he took a step back. Whatever good-bye the two exchanged had been done in private. Dean didn’t do gentle good-byes and soft kisses.
Sam sat on the top of the porch, his back to the column, one leg stretched out on top of the stairs while the other was bent on the stair below it.
He felt his brother coming, but waited as he took a seat in the crook of Sam’s legs. “He’s not leaving for good, Sam.”
“I know, Dean. We both tried to run, but Eliot’s not like us.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Dean laughed softly.
There was something about Dean today. He wasn’t the dark, brooding presence he’d come to expect on this day. Silence followed Dean’s words and Sam was afraid to open his eyes to see what his brother was thinking. “So, I should uh, go get some research done.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“No?” Sam opened his eyes and looked at his brother in surprise.
“No. Jesus, Sam, I asked Eliot to leave for a reason.”
“You what?”
“Maybe I just wanted you alone for a few days.”
He stared at Dean, unable to think. Questions rolled around in his head but there was nothing forthcoming, no answers, nothing more than what and why and what now? Dean brought his hand up to Sam’s face though, cupping it gently and Sam bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything.
When Dean leaned closer, Sam pulled back slightly. Dean just scooted in, pressing his lips against his brother’s in a chaste kiss. Sam gasped at the warmth there, at the memory and the loss he’d felt all those years ago when his brother had pulled away from him.
“Dean?” It was half moan and half question.
“Maybe I just needed to remember that you always knew what you wanted, Sam.” He whispered against his lips. “I was always older, always in control. That night, I needed to hurt you for what you made me feel and I lost myself to that. Lost who I was in this thing between us and I let myself be the monster. You’d been the innocent for so long in my head that it took a long time to remember it wasn’t really like that.”
“No, it wasn’t. I did know what I wanted, just like you did. I was just willing to take it.”
“I could have stopped you, Sam. We both know I should have, but I didn’t.” Dean sighed as he brushed a piece of hair from Sam’s face. “I almost can’t remember a time when my need for you wasn’t this dark, hunted thing. But no matter what it was back then, no matter what I feel about that, you were right. You’re not that kid and I’m not either. I don’t need to protect you from me and you sure as hell could say no to what we do.”
“Been saying that for years,” Sam said with a smile.
“Shut up,” his eyes were downcast but his tone was light. When he did look up though, he pressed their lips together again, the simple, chaste kiss that had been so long denied him. “Sammy, need you now.”
“Anything,” Sam whispered into his lips.
“Want to remember it differently,” his brother confessed.
“Anything,” he reiterated.
Dean kissed his way across Sam’s jaw and bit lightly at the skin beneath his ear. “Ride me, Sammy. Want to feel you overtop of me like you were that night. Want to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress until you can’t think straight.”
“Yeah, Jesus, yes, Dean.” He wanted it, God, how he wanted it. Dean rarely asked for anything like that, content to do whatever Sam asked for. It was his brother’s way to balance out what he did, to give Sam the control of it in all ways. This, Dean asking for this, meant something.
Dean was pulling away then though and Sam looked up, startled, only to find Dean smiling back down at him. “Come on, Sammy,” he teased softly as he offered his brother his hand. “Last one to the bed sleeps in the wet spot.”
As he jerked Sam up from the ground, he pulled a little too hard and Sam was stumbling past the door. Dean had a clean shot inside without Sam’s interference and Sam let out a wild laugh at his brother’s antics. He didn’t know what it meant in the long run, but this was more than he’d ever expected from his brother. He jerked the door open behind him, shirt flying off as he moved.
He didn’t make it to the bed before Dean, in fact he found him in much the same position he’d been that first night so many years before. It was like a new beginning though, a new discovery, and this time, Sam knew how to do it right.