Reason Has No Relevence, Supernatural, NC-17 Part Four
Fic title: Reason Has No Relevance-Part Four( Index)
Author name: phantisma
Artist name: raggedy_edge
Genre: SPN Wincest
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, Sam/OMC, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~26,000
Warnings/Spoilers: Dub-Con first time Wincest, Dub-con between Sam and an OMC, dub-con/non-con Dean/OMC, brainwashing, het sex, group sex
Summary: Everyone knows Dean can't help himself when it comes to touching things he really shouldn't, and that one day it may get him into trouble. When he touches an African mating idol and throws it to Sam to keep from getting caught, they're both caught in a need for one another that neither of them expects or wants. Sam tries to outrun it, but his running only lands him inside a cult that preys on sex and sexual deviance. When Dean finally finds him, Sam sets his sights on bringing Dean inside with him.
Sam was half way to the door before Dean managed to get out of the booth and follow him. "Okay, Sam. If…I don't know. I just…as long as you're happy I guess."
He smiled that brilliant Sammy smile and clapped a giant hand on Dean's shoulder. "I am Dean. I'm so incredibly happy."
"Good." They stopped between the Impala and the stairs leading in to the temple. "So, you want some help with this ghost thing?" Dean leaned back against the car, squinting up at the building.
Sam crossed his arms and shook his head. "I'm not even convinced it is a ghost yet."
"Well, two heads are better than one, Sammy. Just let me get some gear." He moved to the trunk and Sam caught his arm. The heat of the touch burned into him, straight to his dick. He yanked the arm away before he realized that he was doing it. "The hell?"
"Dean…seriously. It's okay. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can manage. You don't have to."
"I didn't come all the way to California for a hamburger Sam. I'm here, let me help." He popped the trunk and frowned at his brother. "It's almost like you don't want me in there. Hiding something?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, of course not. It's just…you'll have to dress like we do to go inside."
Dean shoved some rock salt into a bag alongside his gun. "I gotta wear some freaking dress?"
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "No, just a tunic and pants, but you can't bring the gun."
Dean dropped the bag in the trunk. "No gun, and I gotta wear some freaking tunic?"
"You don't have to do anything, Dean. Seriously."
"Hey Sam!" Sam turned toward the doors. "You know you're late?"
Sam held up a hand at the man leaning out the temple doors. "Yeah, tell them I'm coming." Sam turned back, his face showing something other than the plain happiness of earlier, but it was fleeting, buried under another smile. "I really should get back inside. We-I have a class and…"
Dean's eyes flicked over Sam, then up to the temple and back again. "I'm coming with you." Dean closed the trunk as Sam started to argue. "You're going to show me this place, and we're going to find us this ghost. I'm not leaving until I know everything is good."
Because he had the sneaking suspicion that something wasn't.
Dean followed Sam up the stairs and into a long hall. "You can change there." Sam pointed at a curtained off space. Beside it were stacks of white clothes. Sam fished through it until he found one and thrust it at Dean. "This should fit."
Dean watched Sam disappear into one of the curtained off closets and held up the tunic, shaking his head. There were no sleeves on the damn thing.
What the fuck kind of place was this that made everyone wear pajamas? What had his brother gotten himself into?
Dean pulled off his boots and eased out of his jeans and shrugged out of his layers of shirts. There were no mirrors, just three flimsy walls and the curtain. He pulled the tunic on over his head, and fumbled with the gauzy material of the pants. He got them on and opened the curtain. "I feel like I'm freaking naked."
Sam laughed and took his clothes, stuffing them into a cubicle. Dean reached for his jeans, but Sam blocked him. "Dude, my phone."
"No phones. Not allowed. It's okay. You won't need it."
"No gun, no phone and where the fuck are the sleeves on this thing?" He looked at Sam and his amused face. "You have sleeves."
"You're wearing a visitor's tunic Dean." Sam headed toward the door with Dean following, pulling on the clothes, trying to make them…well, something else entirely. "I'm really running late."
They emerged into a courtyard with a fountain and the smell of flowers. Two women emerged from another set of doors, arm in arm, smiling. They stopped, each kissing Sam like he was their lover, then smiling at Dean.
"Dude, who are they?"
"Karen and Chelsea." Sam said, taking Dean's hand and tugging him toward a set of doors. Dean had an image of Sam's hand in other places, touching him, and pulled away.
"Yeah? You fucking them too?"
Sam just laughed and pushed open the doors. "Not everything is about sex."
"So you say now, when you're fucking four different women." Dean grabbed his shoulder. "Dude, are you some kind of man-whore?"
"What?" Sam snorted at him and kept walking. "No, I'm not…I…look, I have to go in and lead this class. Are you going to behave?"
"Lead this class?" Dean was beginning to think his brother wasn't telling him the whole truth.
"It's just for an hour or so, then we can go to my room and I'll show you the information I have."
"Right. About the haunting." Sam smiled and Dean could feel it in his stomach. It was a pull that made him want to kiss Sam, hold him.
Sam pushed open a door into a room where men and women were all sitting around on mats. Most of them wore the sleeveless tunics, all of them in the white.
"Okay, Dean, why don't you sit…" One of the guys with sleeves on his tunic got up off his mat and Sam sort of gestured vaguely. "There's good. You don't have to…participate or anything…just don't interrupt."
Like Dean was going to get involved in any of this…whatever the fuck this was.
He settled onto his mat and watched Sam step up to the center of the room. "Sorry I'm late everyone. Shall we get started? Let's begin with grounding and centering. Everyone sit up straight, close your eyes and breathe in deep."
Dean watched them all do exactly that, breathing in and holding it until Sam told them to exhale. He let his eyes wander the room. There were definitely some hot chicks in the room. That blonde on the end in particular.
Dean felt eyes and looked up to find Sam watching him as he spoke. Dean turned his eyes from the girl and focused on Sam instead, but that only made him harder than he already was, and damn, in these clothes it was getting hard to hide.
"Everyone pick a partner, preferably someone you haven't worked with before." Dean watched as everyone in the room stood up and sought out a partner. The pairs ended up primarily paired off with male/female partnerships, but there were at least three female/female couples he could see and several male/male ones. "For this exercise there is no physical touching. We will be exploring our partners without our hands, learning how the touch of eyes and breath affect us, learning to read the subtle cues."
Sam hooked a thumb in his neckline and pulled his tunic up and off, tossing it in the direction of the door. Dean's eyes were drawn instantly to the toned muscle, broad shoulders, defined abs and arms…dude, when did Sammy get arms like that? His baby brother definitely wasn't a baby anymore. Dean found it hard to swallow around the lump of need in his throat, harder still to tear his eyes away.
At least until everyone else in the room followed Sam's lead and pulled off their tops. The woman closest to him, a red head with a rack he'd love to bury himself in, smiled at him as she dropped her tunic near his feet, then turned back to her partner. That hard on problem was only getting harder. Although, he wasn't the only one. It was becoming obvious at least a few of the guys in the room were having the same problem as they adjusted themselves.
Sam was talking, passing through the room and adjusting the positions of various people, but Dean couldn't make out what he was saying…there was too much naked flesh in the room. Not the least of which was that long column of Sam's back. He felt Dean's eyes and turned his way, smiling.
Dean bit back the groan just before it would have escaped. The last thing he needed was for this whole room of people to know just how fucked up he was. He dragged in a breath and stepped back, away from the heat of the other bodies, and maybe it was just him, but damn the room was getting awfully hot.
Sam's voice fell into an almost hypnotic rhythm. The men and women in the room were taking turns staring and breathing and it looked insane. And hot. Then, Sam was in the center of the room and dragging his pants off.
Sam was there, in the middle of the room. Naked. Dean's hand went to his cock involuntarily, holding it as the whole room started to follow suit. "We're going to be switching partners now. If you are with a woman, you need to partner with a man. If you're with a man, I need you to partner with a woman."
There was some murmuring and a few uncomfortable looks, but no one argued as they shifted around until only two women near the middle of the room didn't have partners. Sam stepped in beside one of them, his eyes scanning the room. They fell on Dean, who shivered as he felt the question in them. Sam didn't have to ask, Dean glanced at the girl who didn't have a partner and could feel her embarrassment at being the only one, could almost feel the pleading.
"Fuck it." Dean murmured, pulling at his tunic and dropping it in the corner. He stalked over to where Sam stood smiling at him.
Sam's eyes tracked down Dean's torso and damn but that felt dirty. His eyes stopped at Dean's crotch, then darted back to his eyes, an eyebrow lifting in question. Dean shook his head minutely. He was not taking his pants off.
Sam went back to talking, leaving Dean standing there, nearly in the center of the room with some girl he didn't know, the only one in the room wearing anything at all. He grumbled to himself and tugged them down, leaving them in a puddle under his feet as the girl's bright brown eyes found his, her smile tentative. "It's okay, I'm new at this too," she whispered. She glanced around at the others, and lifted her hand to mimic what the others were doing.
It ghosted over his skin, not even an inch between the skin of her palm and the flesh of his chest. It gave him goosebumps. He looked around him, even though he supposed he should be focusing on her. Sam's cock was hard. So were a lot of the other cocks in the room.
Dean was fairly certain that should be disturbing. Warm air glided over his nipples, pulling his attention back to the girl in front of him. She smiled and licked her lips, her tongue only just missing his skin. And yes, that was enough to make him stop thinking about his brother's dick for a few minutes. In fact, the touch of her breath was almost enough to have him humping the air as she focused her attention over his navel.
Sam chuckled somewhere nearby. "Very good. We will continue these techniques next class. Remember to drink plenty of water, and work off that energy in constructive ways." He laughed, but Dean was fully occupied with the girl who was touching him now, hands drawing his face to hers and suddenly his mouth was filled with her tongue, her naked body sliding against his.
He was vaguely aware that all around him other couples were engaged in similar activity, but then her hand was on his cock and stroking and holy fuck! He yanked back, grabbing at his pants to cover himself.
She frowned at him. "Did I…do something…"
Dean sputtered for a minute, shaking his head. His cock was thinking she didn't do enough, but they were in public, in front of at least twenty people.
"I don't…" He looked around them and sort of shrugged. She giggled, leaning down to get her own clothes.
"Oh, you really are new. It's okay, I get it. Maybe another time then." She shimmied into her tunic and set off in search of someone else to work off her energy with.
Sam thrust a bottle of water into his hand. "Drink. And put your pants on."
He was entirely too amused with this whole situation, Dean decided. He smacked his brother on the shoulder once he got into his pants. Somehow Sam was already dressed. Dean crossed to where he'd dropped the tunic, scooping it up while Sam spoke quietly with students. Dean was pulling on his shirt when he realized Sam was making out with a guy.
A guy in a long sleeved tunic. Like Sam's. Making out. With tongues. Dean's cock twitched and his stomach lurched with jealousy. Which was stupid. He looked away, breathing through the emotion. Suddenly though, he was toe to toe with a guy who looked a lot like Sam, broad shoulders and a mop of dark blond hair and startling blue eyes. Those eyes pinned him to the spot and he couldn't think or fight or react as the guy kissed him. Really kissed him. His tongue didn't request entrance to his mouth as much as it demanded it, a hand holding the back of Dean's head.
He ended the kiss before Dean could get himself to react, smiling into Dean's face. "You are beautiful."
"Um…thanks?" Dean fidgeted, trying to look around him for Sam.
"I was wondering…if you wanted to go someplace a little more private?"
"You know…" Dean scratched at his head and tried to figure out what to say.
"Ethan?" Sam's hand was on the big guy's shoulder.
"Hey Sam. Awesome class."
Sam grinned and nodded to Dean. "Thanks. Why don't you and Marcus go deal with your needs, Dean here is with me today. He's new and I'm showing him around."
"Oh, yeah. Awesome. Great to meet you Dean." Ethan kissed him again, a lot lighter and quicker, but Dean was just as motionless until he was gone.
Sam chuckled and clapped his big hand to Dean's back. "You okay?"
"What? Yeah…Um…yeah. Sure. I guess."
"Which means really no." Sam said, guiding him to the door. "Don't worry, Ethan's a talker, he'll make sure everyone knows you're off limits for the moment."
"Because he thinks I'm with you?" Sam just laughed and headed down the hallway. "What if they find out who I really am?"
"What? That you're my brother?" Sam asked, heading down a flight of stairs.
"Sam!" Dean hissed, jogging a little to catch up to him.
Sam opened a door and held it. Dean went through it, into a small room with a bed that didn't look big enough for Sam and a small table next to it and not much else. It felt crowded as soon as Sam came in and closed the door. "No one here is going to care very much, Dean."
He bent over the table and opened a small drawer, pulling out a very thin file folder. "This is all I have."
"Wait." Dean took the folder, but didn't open it. "You're telling me that you're okay with these people thinking that you're in here with your brother?"
"Well, I am in here with my brother." Sam said, dropping onto the bed. Dean stood at the end of the bed, just holding on to the folder and staring at his brother.
Dean watched him reach down, adjusting his cock through the thin pants. He was painfully aware that he was still hard, of the fact that Sam knew Dean was looking at his cock, and that Sam was waiting for him to say something.
The only problem was the only thing he could think of to say would only lead to bad places. He really didn't want to fight with Sam, not now, not when he finally had him back. And, what he really wanted with Sam he knew he couldn't have, even if Sam seemed to be hinting that he could. Dean scrubbed at his face. "Sam…I…what exactly are we doing?"
Sam didn't move, his stare holding Dean immobile. "I thought we were going to hunt a ghost." Sam's voice was calm, even.
Dean couldn't look up at him. "There isn't any ghost." He wasn't sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had only used the notion of a ghost to get him there. And he was there now. "You wanted me here. I'm here. So…if this is where you tell me you hate me or blame me…shit, Sam." Dean looked up at him. "This is my fault. You're here because of me."
For a long time Dean didn't think Sam was going to say anything, then he sat up, turning his eyes to the wall. "Yes. Actually. I am."
Fuck. Dean had to find some way to make this better, because Sam didn't belong here, not like this.
"Before you say anything, let me…" Sam sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "I left because of what happened Dean. And that, was your fault. You're the one who picked up that idol. You're the one who threw it at me."
Sam was quiet again. Dean put the folder down on the end of the bed and thought that Sam really didn't have to say anything else. Dean had fucked him. Dean had continued to want to fuck him. Dean was fucked up and Sam hated him for it. Dean was wrong in the head and it drove Sam away, drove Sam to this.
"My god Dean. Is that all you think about?" Sam asked suddenly, standing and filling the small room. Dean cringed back.
"What?"
Sam rubbed his face. "It isn't all about you, you know? Fuck. I didn't expect this to be this hard." He turned to face Dean. "I wanted you. I wanted you so bad it hurt. I jacked off two, three times a day with your face, your body in my head, Dean."
Dean involuntarily stepped toward Sam, his body thrumming with need.
"I left because I thought you would hate me if you knew."
"Sam…I…" Sam was crying. Fuck and shit and damn. Sam's big hand lifted between them, cupping Dean's cheek, drawing him closer. He was there, right the fuck there, his breath ghosting over Dean's lips and it made his whole body tighten, expand, his cock all but ready to cream the inside of his gauzy pants. "Shit."
"I know what you want, Dean." Sam said so softly, Dean wasn't sure he really heard him. "I want you to know that it's okay. Here, in this place, it's okay."
Sam's lips brushed his and for just a minute, Dean didn't think, didn't breathe. Slowly Sam's words trickled into his brain and Dean closed his eyes, forced himself to step back, shaking his head. "No, Sam it isn't."
Fuck. He was hurting with the need to give in, to let himself believe Sam was right, that this was okay, that what he wanted, what he fucking needed, wasn't a sick and twisted thing that would send them both straight to hell.
"Sam." Dean turned away as Sam reached for him. "I can't."
His hand found its way to Dean's back, hot, tender. It seemed to echo the words. "It's okay. It's okay." Dean shook his head. Clearly this was worse than he'd imagined all this time. This had to still be the work of the idol. They had underestimated its affects. The fucking they'd already done had only addressed the immediate need, but somehow they were still connected, his body's desires matched in Sam's body.
"It doesn't matter why, Dean." Sam said, moving closer again. "It isn't important. I love you."
Dean wanted to melt into that touch, but his stomach churned. Sam didn't love him; it was just the fucking idol. He lurched forward, out of Sam's reach, his hand on the doorknob. "I can't. I can't."
"I can." Sam responded softly. Dean could feel him moving again, the room stifling, the heat pouring off of Sam too intense.
"I need some air." Dean wrenched the door open and stormed out, just hoping he could find his way out of the place again. He hadn't really been paying much attention on the way in.
He found himself in the courtyard with the fountain. The night was cool, and the air felt good on his skin. The sky was filled with stars and he stopped when his feet sank into the cool grass, sagging a little now that he was away from Sam. Things were so much worse than he'd imagined.
Sam had implied he came here for help, that this guy…Daniel had made him better. But Sam wasn't better. He was…delusional. That was the only explanation for Sam thinking that two brothers wanting to do those things to one another could ever be okay.
"You must Dean."
Dean whirled, surprised that anyone could sneak up on him like that. The guy was not what he expected. He was young for starters. Somehow Dean had pictured someone his father's age. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was not about to bring that image into this particular situation. "And you are?"
The guy smiled and Dean could actually feel himself relax, which was odd, when he considered that this was anything but relaxing. "I'm Daniel. Your brother's told me a lot about you."
Great. "Is that right. He's told me almost nothing about you."
Daniel smiled again and stepped a little closer. "He's worried about you."
"Me?" Dean frowned, stepping back. This was the guy who had done whatever it was he'd done to Sam, turned him into…the new-agey man whore. Dean needed to figure him out. "I'm worried about him. This isn't like him."
"Perhaps you don't know your brother as well as you think you do, Dean." Daniel looked him over. "I certainly can see why he feels like he does."
Dean suddenly felt very dirty as Daniel's eyes dragged over him. Dirty and naked, like the clothes didn't really matter with Daniel, like he could see right past them anyway. Dean groaned as he parsed through the words. Sam had told this guy about him. About wanting him. That was maybe worse than knowing himself somehow.
"No offense, Daniel, but I don't see how that's any of your business."
"Perhaps not. Sam is a good man. I hope you can see that."
"Sam is my brother." Dean said forcefully, though even to his own ears it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than this stranger.
"Yes, and you want him in a way that society has taught you is wrong."
Dean scowled at him. "You don't know what I want."
Daniel's hand reached out and touched his shoulder, down to his bare arm. His smile was disconcertingly pleasant and Dean felt his own face relaxing out of his scowl. "I mean, we only just met."
"Why don't you tell me then?" Daniel said, moving to sit in the grass.
Dean was pretty sure he didn't want to do that, and yet, he sat down beside Daniel, looking up at the sky. "It's not that you're wrong, exactly. I mean…it is wrong, isn't it? To want to…do things with your brother?"
Daniel didn't look at him, just leaned back on his elbows. "In some societies it is the older brother's sacred duty to initiate his younger siblings in the ways of sex. In others, it is practice to marry sisters and cousins to keep the family's power intact. It is not always forbidden."
Dean shivered and considered that. "We live here, and the rules say you can't have sex with brothers, or sisters or mothers or fathers."
"Rules are for the weak minded." Daniel said, his voice pleasant. "Or perhaps this has more to do with the idea that he is a man and less to do with the fact that he is your brother?" He turned so that he was looking at Dean, his head leaning on one hand. "You don't consider yourself gay, do you?"
"What? No." Dean sat forward, his stomach tightening, his body going rigid around a memory he'd spent ten years suppressing. "No, I'm not."
"And yet, you desire Sam." Daniel's voice was neutral, no accusation to the sound. "Could it be there is something you are not admitting to yourself?"
His hand touched Dean's arm, slid down until it was holding Dean's hand. Memory crashed through him. He was fourteen again, at the high school in Minnesota. He'd tried out for the football team even though his father had told him not to, forged the permission slip and when John was off on his hunt, Dean had taken Sam with him to the school. Sam sat on the sidelines with the coach's wife and daughter while they played, and followed him into the locker room when the game was over. Dean didn't bother to shower, but by the time he'd settled Sam in on the bench nearest his locker and fought his way out of the stained up uniform and pads, the rest of the team was gone.
Dean pulled away from Daniel, trying to shove the memory away. "Don't fight it Dean." Daniel said softly. "Let it come. You'll never be free of it if you keep it inside."
He should be concerned that Daniel knew what he was thinking, that Daniel was touching him, soft hands moving to hold his hands, body moving too close, almost touching. His face was hot, the memory bursting out of the closet he'd kept it hidden in all these years.
"Winchester, got a minute?"
Dean looked up to see the coach at the door to his office. "Now, coach? I need to get my brother home."
"It'll only take a minute."
Shit. He must have figured out that Dean had faked the permission slip. "Yeah, okay. Sammy just wait here. I'll be out in a minute." Dean followed the coach into the office, swallowing hard when the coach closed the door. "Look, coach…if this is about the permission slip, I can explain."
The coach crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. He didn't say anything, just looked at Dean. "My father…he meant to sign it, but he had to go to work and he forgot." Dean shifted his weight nervously.
The coach grabbed at him suddenly, dragging Dean forward and shoving him down over the desk. "You lie to your daddy like that, boy?"
Dean's heart thundered as he pressed sweaty palms to the desk under him, trying to push himself up out of the awkward position. "No, sir…I…" The hand on the back of his neck was brutal, pinching under and behind his ears. His other hand was on Dean's ass, slapping him several times before Dean felt his sweats being yanked down.
He bucked up, but the coach was bigger, stronger and he pinned Dean down, his body rubbing over Dean, a finger finding Dean's asshole and pressing in. "I'd think twice about yelling, boy." Coach pressed in, had to be more fingers, too full, too much. "Bring your brother in here and I'll have to hurt you both."
Dean bit down on his lip. The fingers were gone and he tried again to buck up, but something bigger was there, something that scared him more. "No…please…don't…"
There was no escape though and Dean's eyes swam with tears as Coach shoved his cock into him. He wanted to scream, to thrash, but Sammy was out there, and Sammy couldn't ever know. Dean's fingers scrambled against the desk, trying to hold on to something, anything.
Coach grunted, held him down and something warm and wet flooded him. Dean slid to his knees when he was released, moving a shaking hand to wipe his eyes. Coach moved to sit in his chair, shuffling through papers like he hadn't just…Dean shook his head and pulled himself up off the floor.
"Best get that brother home." Coach said. "You mind your manners, get to practice on time. I'll overlook the whole permission slip thing."
Dean couldn't speak, just slipping out of the office door, calling for Sam.
Daniel's arms were around him, holding him. His voice made soft sounds Dean couldn't quite make out as words. He tried to pull back, but didn't really seem to move. Daniel's kiss was soft, easy and Dean found himself falling into it, his mouth opening. His face was wet when they separated, Dean's breath coming in short gasps as he started to realize where he was again.
"That isn't the same thing you did to Sam." Daniel said, his hand still on Dean's face.
This time Dean did pull away. "Yes, it is." He was angry with himself, his arms folded around his stomach as if he could stop the way his mind was crashing from that memory into what he'd done to Sam.
The need was intense, his cock so hard even after he'd jacked off over and over again. It hurt to touch, it hurt to move, and all he could think about was Sam. "It's my fault. I did it."
Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, sliding back to his lips. "That isn't the story Sam tells."
"Sam…" Dean swallowed and looked away, getting up off the grass. "Sam should never have…I hurt him."
Daniel was behind him, arms sliding around his waist as though they were lovers, intimate, familiar. Kisses trailed over his shoulders before Dean was turning in his arms, his eyes sliding closed as Daniel's mouth covered his.
Dean's eyes opened, blinked when the kiss ended. "This is what you want Dean. Let me give it to you." Daniel was touching him, holding him, but Dean could nearly feel Sam, wanted Sam more with each passing moment. His cock was hard again, hard and needy like it had been that night, like it had been almost since he saw Sam again.
Dean shook his head to clear it, trying to see through the illusion, but Daniel held his face, kissed him. "I see you Dean. I see you for who you are, and you are beautiful." Daniel's breath was moist on the skin of his face as he kissed away the tears Dean didn't want to admit. "This is beautiful." Daniel's hand touched his cock, hot through the thin fabric of the pants. "Your love for him is beautiful."
He wanted to turn away from the soothing voice, from the forgiveness that was being offered, the release from the guilt that had been gnawing at his stomach for more than two years. "I don't deserve this." Dean looked down, but Daniel's fingers cupped his chin, lifted his face. Daniel's lips touched his, tongue teasing along the curve of Dean's lower lip
"I see what you want, Dean. I can give you what you want." His hands caressed over Dean's face. "Close your eyes. Breathe with me. Listen to my voice." Dean's eyes closed slowly, his breath stuttering before slowly settling in to match Daniel's slow, deep breathing.. "Good. Now show me Dean. Show me."
Dean's memory bubbled up, the moment Sam touched the idol Dean's dick had jumped, his body filled with want, the sight of him, dick hard, red…the realization that Sammy needed him, was begging him to touch him even, the way Sam's eyes closed and his words stopped and that needy sound echoed in his throat as he came over Dean's hand.
"Dean." His eyes opened and Daniel wasn't Daniel, his hands were bigger, his voice different…he was Sam somehow, kissing him, those hands sliding up under his shirt and dragging it up.
"Wait…" Dean breathed out the word as their lips separated long enough to get the shirt off.
"Let me love you." Dean swallowed and tried to look away, because this wasn't real…couldn't be real, it was an illusion. Sam's lips parted, his tongue sliding over his lower lip. Sam's eyes looked at him with love that burned through Dean's notion of right and wrong and real. Hands dropped the tunic and slid over his skin, down to his hips, fingers running under the waistband of the pants he wore.
"Sam?"
"I am who you need me to be, Dean." His kisses slipped over Dean's face, and Dean's lips parted easily, his eyes fluttering closed as Sam leaned into him, his hand on Dean's cock, sliding into his pants and dragging up over his cock. "Let me love you Dean."
Dean panted as his pants fell, as Sam's body pressed to his. "Need you Dean, need you. Love you."
It was Sam's voice, Sam's hands…it wasn't Sam. Dean let himself be guided down to his knees, to his back, the grass cool and damp against his skin. Sam covered him, laying kisses over his collarbone, down his chest, all the way down to his cock, which he licked once before engulfing it in the hot, hot heat. Dean groaned and bucked up…hands fisting in the grass, yanking and filling the air with the smell of damp earth.
Sam’s mouth worked over him and it wasn't going to take long for Dean to fall over the edge. He tried to warn him, but his orgasm ripped through him, shooting up into Sam. Hands slid over his thighs, opening him, spreading his legs open as that mouth traveled over sweaty skin, onto his thighs, tongue slipping down under Dean's balls, through his crack and Dean moaned when fingers joined it, wet, slippery, pressing into him, opening him up.
Memory surged, pain, humiliation. "Dean, love you." Sam's voice soothed, his lips traveling back to his cock, coaxing it back to hardness despite just coming moments before. "Let me show you how beautiful it can be."
There were lube and fingers, and Dean wasn’t' sure where the lube came from but those long fingers stroke inside him, opening him, brushing over a spot inside that made him jump, made his cock flood to full hardness. "Sam!" He gasped out the name, his hand relinquishing the grass in his fist to grab at Sam’s arm. Fingers gave way to cock and Sam was inside him, not moving, just there, looking down into Dean's face. "Beautiful Dean. So beautiful."
His cock stroked over that place inside him, that spot that had to be his prostate and Dean's back arched, his cock twitching against his stomach. "Please…god…Sam…" And he knew it wasn't Sam, but he couldn't help the way he clung to him anyway, both hands now, gripping his hips, pulling him in, not enough, not nearly enough.
Sam’s cock filled him, his come hot and strong inside him as Sam’s hand grabbed his cock, stroking him twice to pull him back over that edge, Dean's come spilling out onto his stomach as his eyes rolled closed and he passed out.
Author name: phantisma
Artist name: raggedy_edge
Genre: SPN Wincest
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, Sam/OMC, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~26,000
Warnings/Spoilers: Dub-Con first time Wincest, Dub-con between Sam and an OMC, dub-con/non-con Dean/OMC, brainwashing, het sex, group sex
Summary: Everyone knows Dean can't help himself when it comes to touching things he really shouldn't, and that one day it may get him into trouble. When he touches an African mating idol and throws it to Sam to keep from getting caught, they're both caught in a need for one another that neither of them expects or wants. Sam tries to outrun it, but his running only lands him inside a cult that preys on sex and sexual deviance. When Dean finally finds him, Sam sets his sights on bringing Dean inside with him.
Sam was half way to the door before Dean managed to get out of the booth and follow him. "Okay, Sam. If…I don't know. I just…as long as you're happy I guess."
He smiled that brilliant Sammy smile and clapped a giant hand on Dean's shoulder. "I am Dean. I'm so incredibly happy."
"Good." They stopped between the Impala and the stairs leading in to the temple. "So, you want some help with this ghost thing?" Dean leaned back against the car, squinting up at the building.
Sam crossed his arms and shook his head. "I'm not even convinced it is a ghost yet."
"Well, two heads are better than one, Sammy. Just let me get some gear." He moved to the trunk and Sam caught his arm. The heat of the touch burned into him, straight to his dick. He yanked the arm away before he realized that he was doing it. "The hell?"
"Dean…seriously. It's okay. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can manage. You don't have to."
"I didn't come all the way to California for a hamburger Sam. I'm here, let me help." He popped the trunk and frowned at his brother. "It's almost like you don't want me in there. Hiding something?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, of course not. It's just…you'll have to dress like we do to go inside."
Dean shoved some rock salt into a bag alongside his gun. "I gotta wear some freaking dress?"
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "No, just a tunic and pants, but you can't bring the gun."
Dean dropped the bag in the trunk. "No gun, and I gotta wear some freaking tunic?"
"You don't have to do anything, Dean. Seriously."
"Hey Sam!" Sam turned toward the doors. "You know you're late?"
Sam held up a hand at the man leaning out the temple doors. "Yeah, tell them I'm coming." Sam turned back, his face showing something other than the plain happiness of earlier, but it was fleeting, buried under another smile. "I really should get back inside. We-I have a class and…"
Dean's eyes flicked over Sam, then up to the temple and back again. "I'm coming with you." Dean closed the trunk as Sam started to argue. "You're going to show me this place, and we're going to find us this ghost. I'm not leaving until I know everything is good."
Because he had the sneaking suspicion that something wasn't.
Dean followed Sam up the stairs and into a long hall. "You can change there." Sam pointed at a curtained off space. Beside it were stacks of white clothes. Sam fished through it until he found one and thrust it at Dean. "This should fit."
Dean watched Sam disappear into one of the curtained off closets and held up the tunic, shaking his head. There were no sleeves on the damn thing.
What the fuck kind of place was this that made everyone wear pajamas? What had his brother gotten himself into?
Dean pulled off his boots and eased out of his jeans and shrugged out of his layers of shirts. There were no mirrors, just three flimsy walls and the curtain. He pulled the tunic on over his head, and fumbled with the gauzy material of the pants. He got them on and opened the curtain. "I feel like I'm freaking naked."
Sam laughed and took his clothes, stuffing them into a cubicle. Dean reached for his jeans, but Sam blocked him. "Dude, my phone."
"No phones. Not allowed. It's okay. You won't need it."
"No gun, no phone and where the fuck are the sleeves on this thing?" He looked at Sam and his amused face. "You have sleeves."
"You're wearing a visitor's tunic Dean." Sam headed toward the door with Dean following, pulling on the clothes, trying to make them…well, something else entirely. "I'm really running late."
They emerged into a courtyard with a fountain and the smell of flowers. Two women emerged from another set of doors, arm in arm, smiling. They stopped, each kissing Sam like he was their lover, then smiling at Dean.
"Dude, who are they?"
"Karen and Chelsea." Sam said, taking Dean's hand and tugging him toward a set of doors. Dean had an image of Sam's hand in other places, touching him, and pulled away.
"Yeah? You fucking them too?"
Sam just laughed and pushed open the doors. "Not everything is about sex."
"So you say now, when you're fucking four different women." Dean grabbed his shoulder. "Dude, are you some kind of man-whore?"
"What?" Sam snorted at him and kept walking. "No, I'm not…I…look, I have to go in and lead this class. Are you going to behave?"
"Lead this class?" Dean was beginning to think his brother wasn't telling him the whole truth.
"It's just for an hour or so, then we can go to my room and I'll show you the information I have."
"Right. About the haunting." Sam smiled and Dean could feel it in his stomach. It was a pull that made him want to kiss Sam, hold him.
Sam pushed open a door into a room where men and women were all sitting around on mats. Most of them wore the sleeveless tunics, all of them in the white.
"Okay, Dean, why don't you sit…" One of the guys with sleeves on his tunic got up off his mat and Sam sort of gestured vaguely. "There's good. You don't have to…participate or anything…just don't interrupt."
Like Dean was going to get involved in any of this…whatever the fuck this was.
He settled onto his mat and watched Sam step up to the center of the room. "Sorry I'm late everyone. Shall we get started? Let's begin with grounding and centering. Everyone sit up straight, close your eyes and breathe in deep."
Dean watched them all do exactly that, breathing in and holding it until Sam told them to exhale. He let his eyes wander the room. There were definitely some hot chicks in the room. That blonde on the end in particular.
Dean felt eyes and looked up to find Sam watching him as he spoke. Dean turned his eyes from the girl and focused on Sam instead, but that only made him harder than he already was, and damn, in these clothes it was getting hard to hide.
"Everyone pick a partner, preferably someone you haven't worked with before." Dean watched as everyone in the room stood up and sought out a partner. The pairs ended up primarily paired off with male/female partnerships, but there were at least three female/female couples he could see and several male/male ones. "For this exercise there is no physical touching. We will be exploring our partners without our hands, learning how the touch of eyes and breath affect us, learning to read the subtle cues."
Sam hooked a thumb in his neckline and pulled his tunic up and off, tossing it in the direction of the door. Dean's eyes were drawn instantly to the toned muscle, broad shoulders, defined abs and arms…dude, when did Sammy get arms like that? His baby brother definitely wasn't a baby anymore. Dean found it hard to swallow around the lump of need in his throat, harder still to tear his eyes away.
At least until everyone else in the room followed Sam's lead and pulled off their tops. The woman closest to him, a red head with a rack he'd love to bury himself in, smiled at him as she dropped her tunic near his feet, then turned back to her partner. That hard on problem was only getting harder. Although, he wasn't the only one. It was becoming obvious at least a few of the guys in the room were having the same problem as they adjusted themselves.
Sam was talking, passing through the room and adjusting the positions of various people, but Dean couldn't make out what he was saying…there was too much naked flesh in the room. Not the least of which was that long column of Sam's back. He felt Dean's eyes and turned his way, smiling.
Dean bit back the groan just before it would have escaped. The last thing he needed was for this whole room of people to know just how fucked up he was. He dragged in a breath and stepped back, away from the heat of the other bodies, and maybe it was just him, but damn the room was getting awfully hot.
Sam's voice fell into an almost hypnotic rhythm. The men and women in the room were taking turns staring and breathing and it looked insane. And hot. Then, Sam was in the center of the room and dragging his pants off.
Sam was there, in the middle of the room. Naked. Dean's hand went to his cock involuntarily, holding it as the whole room started to follow suit. "We're going to be switching partners now. If you are with a woman, you need to partner with a man. If you're with a man, I need you to partner with a woman."
There was some murmuring and a few uncomfortable looks, but no one argued as they shifted around until only two women near the middle of the room didn't have partners. Sam stepped in beside one of them, his eyes scanning the room. They fell on Dean, who shivered as he felt the question in them. Sam didn't have to ask, Dean glanced at the girl who didn't have a partner and could feel her embarrassment at being the only one, could almost feel the pleading.
"Fuck it." Dean murmured, pulling at his tunic and dropping it in the corner. He stalked over to where Sam stood smiling at him.
Sam's eyes tracked down Dean's torso and damn but that felt dirty. His eyes stopped at Dean's crotch, then darted back to his eyes, an eyebrow lifting in question. Dean shook his head minutely. He was not taking his pants off.
Sam went back to talking, leaving Dean standing there, nearly in the center of the room with some girl he didn't know, the only one in the room wearing anything at all. He grumbled to himself and tugged them down, leaving them in a puddle under his feet as the girl's bright brown eyes found his, her smile tentative. "It's okay, I'm new at this too," she whispered. She glanced around at the others, and lifted her hand to mimic what the others were doing.
It ghosted over his skin, not even an inch between the skin of her palm and the flesh of his chest. It gave him goosebumps. He looked around him, even though he supposed he should be focusing on her. Sam's cock was hard. So were a lot of the other cocks in the room.
Dean was fairly certain that should be disturbing. Warm air glided over his nipples, pulling his attention back to the girl in front of him. She smiled and licked her lips, her tongue only just missing his skin. And yes, that was enough to make him stop thinking about his brother's dick for a few minutes. In fact, the touch of her breath was almost enough to have him humping the air as she focused her attention over his navel.
Sam chuckled somewhere nearby. "Very good. We will continue these techniques next class. Remember to drink plenty of water, and work off that energy in constructive ways." He laughed, but Dean was fully occupied with the girl who was touching him now, hands drawing his face to hers and suddenly his mouth was filled with her tongue, her naked body sliding against his.
He was vaguely aware that all around him other couples were engaged in similar activity, but then her hand was on his cock and stroking and holy fuck! He yanked back, grabbing at his pants to cover himself.
She frowned at him. "Did I…do something…"
Dean sputtered for a minute, shaking his head. His cock was thinking she didn't do enough, but they were in public, in front of at least twenty people.
"I don't…" He looked around them and sort of shrugged. She giggled, leaning down to get her own clothes.
"Oh, you really are new. It's okay, I get it. Maybe another time then." She shimmied into her tunic and set off in search of someone else to work off her energy with.
Sam thrust a bottle of water into his hand. "Drink. And put your pants on."
He was entirely too amused with this whole situation, Dean decided. He smacked his brother on the shoulder once he got into his pants. Somehow Sam was already dressed. Dean crossed to where he'd dropped the tunic, scooping it up while Sam spoke quietly with students. Dean was pulling on his shirt when he realized Sam was making out with a guy.
A guy in a long sleeved tunic. Like Sam's. Making out. With tongues. Dean's cock twitched and his stomach lurched with jealousy. Which was stupid. He looked away, breathing through the emotion. Suddenly though, he was toe to toe with a guy who looked a lot like Sam, broad shoulders and a mop of dark blond hair and startling blue eyes. Those eyes pinned him to the spot and he couldn't think or fight or react as the guy kissed him. Really kissed him. His tongue didn't request entrance to his mouth as much as it demanded it, a hand holding the back of Dean's head.
He ended the kiss before Dean could get himself to react, smiling into Dean's face. "You are beautiful."
"Um…thanks?" Dean fidgeted, trying to look around him for Sam.
"I was wondering…if you wanted to go someplace a little more private?"
"You know…" Dean scratched at his head and tried to figure out what to say.
"Ethan?" Sam's hand was on the big guy's shoulder.
"Hey Sam. Awesome class."
Sam grinned and nodded to Dean. "Thanks. Why don't you and Marcus go deal with your needs, Dean here is with me today. He's new and I'm showing him around."
"Oh, yeah. Awesome. Great to meet you Dean." Ethan kissed him again, a lot lighter and quicker, but Dean was just as motionless until he was gone.
Sam chuckled and clapped his big hand to Dean's back. "You okay?"
"What? Yeah…Um…yeah. Sure. I guess."
"Which means really no." Sam said, guiding him to the door. "Don't worry, Ethan's a talker, he'll make sure everyone knows you're off limits for the moment."
"Because he thinks I'm with you?" Sam just laughed and headed down the hallway. "What if they find out who I really am?"
"What? That you're my brother?" Sam asked, heading down a flight of stairs.
"Sam!" Dean hissed, jogging a little to catch up to him.
Sam opened a door and held it. Dean went through it, into a small room with a bed that didn't look big enough for Sam and a small table next to it and not much else. It felt crowded as soon as Sam came in and closed the door. "No one here is going to care very much, Dean."
He bent over the table and opened a small drawer, pulling out a very thin file folder. "This is all I have."
"Wait." Dean took the folder, but didn't open it. "You're telling me that you're okay with these people thinking that you're in here with your brother?"
"Well, I am in here with my brother." Sam said, dropping onto the bed. Dean stood at the end of the bed, just holding on to the folder and staring at his brother.
Dean watched him reach down, adjusting his cock through the thin pants. He was painfully aware that he was still hard, of the fact that Sam knew Dean was looking at his cock, and that Sam was waiting for him to say something.
The only problem was the only thing he could think of to say would only lead to bad places. He really didn't want to fight with Sam, not now, not when he finally had him back. And, what he really wanted with Sam he knew he couldn't have, even if Sam seemed to be hinting that he could. Dean scrubbed at his face. "Sam…I…what exactly are we doing?"
Sam didn't move, his stare holding Dean immobile. "I thought we were going to hunt a ghost." Sam's voice was calm, even.
Dean couldn't look up at him. "There isn't any ghost." He wasn't sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had only used the notion of a ghost to get him there. And he was there now. "You wanted me here. I'm here. So…if this is where you tell me you hate me or blame me…shit, Sam." Dean looked up at him. "This is my fault. You're here because of me."
For a long time Dean didn't think Sam was going to say anything, then he sat up, turning his eyes to the wall. "Yes. Actually. I am."
Fuck. Dean had to find some way to make this better, because Sam didn't belong here, not like this.
"Before you say anything, let me…" Sam sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "I left because of what happened Dean. And that, was your fault. You're the one who picked up that idol. You're the one who threw it at me."
Sam was quiet again. Dean put the folder down on the end of the bed and thought that Sam really didn't have to say anything else. Dean had fucked him. Dean had continued to want to fuck him. Dean was fucked up and Sam hated him for it. Dean was wrong in the head and it drove Sam away, drove Sam to this.
"My god Dean. Is that all you think about?" Sam asked suddenly, standing and filling the small room. Dean cringed back.
"What?"
Sam rubbed his face. "It isn't all about you, you know? Fuck. I didn't expect this to be this hard." He turned to face Dean. "I wanted you. I wanted you so bad it hurt. I jacked off two, three times a day with your face, your body in my head, Dean."
Dean involuntarily stepped toward Sam, his body thrumming with need.
"I left because I thought you would hate me if you knew."
"Sam…I…" Sam was crying. Fuck and shit and damn. Sam's big hand lifted between them, cupping Dean's cheek, drawing him closer. He was there, right the fuck there, his breath ghosting over Dean's lips and it made his whole body tighten, expand, his cock all but ready to cream the inside of his gauzy pants. "Shit."
"I know what you want, Dean." Sam said so softly, Dean wasn't sure he really heard him. "I want you to know that it's okay. Here, in this place, it's okay."
Sam's lips brushed his and for just a minute, Dean didn't think, didn't breathe. Slowly Sam's words trickled into his brain and Dean closed his eyes, forced himself to step back, shaking his head. "No, Sam it isn't."
Fuck. He was hurting with the need to give in, to let himself believe Sam was right, that this was okay, that what he wanted, what he fucking needed, wasn't a sick and twisted thing that would send them both straight to hell.
"Sam." Dean turned away as Sam reached for him. "I can't."
His hand found its way to Dean's back, hot, tender. It seemed to echo the words. "It's okay. It's okay." Dean shook his head. Clearly this was worse than he'd imagined all this time. This had to still be the work of the idol. They had underestimated its affects. The fucking they'd already done had only addressed the immediate need, but somehow they were still connected, his body's desires matched in Sam's body.
"It doesn't matter why, Dean." Sam said, moving closer again. "It isn't important. I love you."
Dean wanted to melt into that touch, but his stomach churned. Sam didn't love him; it was just the fucking idol. He lurched forward, out of Sam's reach, his hand on the doorknob. "I can't. I can't."
"I can." Sam responded softly. Dean could feel him moving again, the room stifling, the heat pouring off of Sam too intense.
"I need some air." Dean wrenched the door open and stormed out, just hoping he could find his way out of the place again. He hadn't really been paying much attention on the way in.
He found himself in the courtyard with the fountain. The night was cool, and the air felt good on his skin. The sky was filled with stars and he stopped when his feet sank into the cool grass, sagging a little now that he was away from Sam. Things were so much worse than he'd imagined.
Sam had implied he came here for help, that this guy…Daniel had made him better. But Sam wasn't better. He was…delusional. That was the only explanation for Sam thinking that two brothers wanting to do those things to one another could ever be okay.
"You must Dean."
Dean whirled, surprised that anyone could sneak up on him like that. The guy was not what he expected. He was young for starters. Somehow Dean had pictured someone his father's age. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was not about to bring that image into this particular situation. "And you are?"
The guy smiled and Dean could actually feel himself relax, which was odd, when he considered that this was anything but relaxing. "I'm Daniel. Your brother's told me a lot about you."
Great. "Is that right. He's told me almost nothing about you."
Daniel smiled again and stepped a little closer. "He's worried about you."
"Me?" Dean frowned, stepping back. This was the guy who had done whatever it was he'd done to Sam, turned him into…the new-agey man whore. Dean needed to figure him out. "I'm worried about him. This isn't like him."
"Perhaps you don't know your brother as well as you think you do, Dean." Daniel looked him over. "I certainly can see why he feels like he does."
Dean suddenly felt very dirty as Daniel's eyes dragged over him. Dirty and naked, like the clothes didn't really matter with Daniel, like he could see right past them anyway. Dean groaned as he parsed through the words. Sam had told this guy about him. About wanting him. That was maybe worse than knowing himself somehow.
"No offense, Daniel, but I don't see how that's any of your business."
"Perhaps not. Sam is a good man. I hope you can see that."
"Sam is my brother." Dean said forcefully, though even to his own ears it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than this stranger.
"Yes, and you want him in a way that society has taught you is wrong."
Dean scowled at him. "You don't know what I want."
Daniel's hand reached out and touched his shoulder, down to his bare arm. His smile was disconcertingly pleasant and Dean felt his own face relaxing out of his scowl. "I mean, we only just met."
"Why don't you tell me then?" Daniel said, moving to sit in the grass.
Dean was pretty sure he didn't want to do that, and yet, he sat down beside Daniel, looking up at the sky. "It's not that you're wrong, exactly. I mean…it is wrong, isn't it? To want to…do things with your brother?"
Daniel didn't look at him, just leaned back on his elbows. "In some societies it is the older brother's sacred duty to initiate his younger siblings in the ways of sex. In others, it is practice to marry sisters and cousins to keep the family's power intact. It is not always forbidden."
Dean shivered and considered that. "We live here, and the rules say you can't have sex with brothers, or sisters or mothers or fathers."
"Rules are for the weak minded." Daniel said, his voice pleasant. "Or perhaps this has more to do with the idea that he is a man and less to do with the fact that he is your brother?" He turned so that he was looking at Dean, his head leaning on one hand. "You don't consider yourself gay, do you?"
"What? No." Dean sat forward, his stomach tightening, his body going rigid around a memory he'd spent ten years suppressing. "No, I'm not."
"And yet, you desire Sam." Daniel's voice was neutral, no accusation to the sound. "Could it be there is something you are not admitting to yourself?"
His hand touched Dean's arm, slid down until it was holding Dean's hand. Memory crashed through him. He was fourteen again, at the high school in Minnesota. He'd tried out for the football team even though his father had told him not to, forged the permission slip and when John was off on his hunt, Dean had taken Sam with him to the school. Sam sat on the sidelines with the coach's wife and daughter while they played, and followed him into the locker room when the game was over. Dean didn't bother to shower, but by the time he'd settled Sam in on the bench nearest his locker and fought his way out of the stained up uniform and pads, the rest of the team was gone.
Dean pulled away from Daniel, trying to shove the memory away. "Don't fight it Dean." Daniel said softly. "Let it come. You'll never be free of it if you keep it inside."
He should be concerned that Daniel knew what he was thinking, that Daniel was touching him, soft hands moving to hold his hands, body moving too close, almost touching. His face was hot, the memory bursting out of the closet he'd kept it hidden in all these years.
"Winchester, got a minute?"
Dean looked up to see the coach at the door to his office. "Now, coach? I need to get my brother home."
"It'll only take a minute."
Shit. He must have figured out that Dean had faked the permission slip. "Yeah, okay. Sammy just wait here. I'll be out in a minute." Dean followed the coach into the office, swallowing hard when the coach closed the door. "Look, coach…if this is about the permission slip, I can explain."
The coach crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. He didn't say anything, just looked at Dean. "My father…he meant to sign it, but he had to go to work and he forgot." Dean shifted his weight nervously.
The coach grabbed at him suddenly, dragging Dean forward and shoving him down over the desk. "You lie to your daddy like that, boy?"
Dean's heart thundered as he pressed sweaty palms to the desk under him, trying to push himself up out of the awkward position. "No, sir…I…" The hand on the back of his neck was brutal, pinching under and behind his ears. His other hand was on Dean's ass, slapping him several times before Dean felt his sweats being yanked down.
He bucked up, but the coach was bigger, stronger and he pinned Dean down, his body rubbing over Dean, a finger finding Dean's asshole and pressing in. "I'd think twice about yelling, boy." Coach pressed in, had to be more fingers, too full, too much. "Bring your brother in here and I'll have to hurt you both."
Dean bit down on his lip. The fingers were gone and he tried again to buck up, but something bigger was there, something that scared him more. "No…please…don't…"
There was no escape though and Dean's eyes swam with tears as Coach shoved his cock into him. He wanted to scream, to thrash, but Sammy was out there, and Sammy couldn't ever know. Dean's fingers scrambled against the desk, trying to hold on to something, anything.
Coach grunted, held him down and something warm and wet flooded him. Dean slid to his knees when he was released, moving a shaking hand to wipe his eyes. Coach moved to sit in his chair, shuffling through papers like he hadn't just…Dean shook his head and pulled himself up off the floor.
"Best get that brother home." Coach said. "You mind your manners, get to practice on time. I'll overlook the whole permission slip thing."
Dean couldn't speak, just slipping out of the office door, calling for Sam.
Daniel's arms were around him, holding him. His voice made soft sounds Dean couldn't quite make out as words. He tried to pull back, but didn't really seem to move. Daniel's kiss was soft, easy and Dean found himself falling into it, his mouth opening. His face was wet when they separated, Dean's breath coming in short gasps as he started to realize where he was again.
"That isn't the same thing you did to Sam." Daniel said, his hand still on Dean's face.
This time Dean did pull away. "Yes, it is." He was angry with himself, his arms folded around his stomach as if he could stop the way his mind was crashing from that memory into what he'd done to Sam.
The need was intense, his cock so hard even after he'd jacked off over and over again. It hurt to touch, it hurt to move, and all he could think about was Sam. "It's my fault. I did it."
Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, sliding back to his lips. "That isn't the story Sam tells."
"Sam…" Dean swallowed and looked away, getting up off the grass. "Sam should never have…I hurt him."
Daniel was behind him, arms sliding around his waist as though they were lovers, intimate, familiar. Kisses trailed over his shoulders before Dean was turning in his arms, his eyes sliding closed as Daniel's mouth covered his.
Dean's eyes opened, blinked when the kiss ended. "This is what you want Dean. Let me give it to you." Daniel was touching him, holding him, but Dean could nearly feel Sam, wanted Sam more with each passing moment. His cock was hard again, hard and needy like it had been that night, like it had been almost since he saw Sam again.
Dean shook his head to clear it, trying to see through the illusion, but Daniel held his face, kissed him. "I see you Dean. I see you for who you are, and you are beautiful." Daniel's breath was moist on the skin of his face as he kissed away the tears Dean didn't want to admit. "This is beautiful." Daniel's hand touched his cock, hot through the thin fabric of the pants. "Your love for him is beautiful."
He wanted to turn away from the soothing voice, from the forgiveness that was being offered, the release from the guilt that had been gnawing at his stomach for more than two years. "I don't deserve this." Dean looked down, but Daniel's fingers cupped his chin, lifted his face. Daniel's lips touched his, tongue teasing along the curve of Dean's lower lip
"I see what you want, Dean. I can give you what you want." His hands caressed over Dean's face. "Close your eyes. Breathe with me. Listen to my voice." Dean's eyes closed slowly, his breath stuttering before slowly settling in to match Daniel's slow, deep breathing.. "Good. Now show me Dean. Show me."
Dean's memory bubbled up, the moment Sam touched the idol Dean's dick had jumped, his body filled with want, the sight of him, dick hard, red…the realization that Sammy needed him, was begging him to touch him even, the way Sam's eyes closed and his words stopped and that needy sound echoed in his throat as he came over Dean's hand.
"Dean." His eyes opened and Daniel wasn't Daniel, his hands were bigger, his voice different…he was Sam somehow, kissing him, those hands sliding up under his shirt and dragging it up.
"Wait…" Dean breathed out the word as their lips separated long enough to get the shirt off.
"Let me love you." Dean swallowed and tried to look away, because this wasn't real…couldn't be real, it was an illusion. Sam's lips parted, his tongue sliding over his lower lip. Sam's eyes looked at him with love that burned through Dean's notion of right and wrong and real. Hands dropped the tunic and slid over his skin, down to his hips, fingers running under the waistband of the pants he wore.
"Sam?"
"I am who you need me to be, Dean." His kisses slipped over Dean's face, and Dean's lips parted easily, his eyes fluttering closed as Sam leaned into him, his hand on Dean's cock, sliding into his pants and dragging up over his cock. "Let me love you Dean."
Dean panted as his pants fell, as Sam's body pressed to his. "Need you Dean, need you. Love you."
It was Sam's voice, Sam's hands…it wasn't Sam. Dean let himself be guided down to his knees, to his back, the grass cool and damp against his skin. Sam covered him, laying kisses over his collarbone, down his chest, all the way down to his cock, which he licked once before engulfing it in the hot, hot heat. Dean groaned and bucked up…hands fisting in the grass, yanking and filling the air with the smell of damp earth.
Sam’s mouth worked over him and it wasn't going to take long for Dean to fall over the edge. He tried to warn him, but his orgasm ripped through him, shooting up into Sam. Hands slid over his thighs, opening him, spreading his legs open as that mouth traveled over sweaty skin, onto his thighs, tongue slipping down under Dean's balls, through his crack and Dean moaned when fingers joined it, wet, slippery, pressing into him, opening him up.
Memory surged, pain, humiliation. "Dean, love you." Sam's voice soothed, his lips traveling back to his cock, coaxing it back to hardness despite just coming moments before. "Let me show you how beautiful it can be."
There were lube and fingers, and Dean wasn’t' sure where the lube came from but those long fingers stroke inside him, opening him, brushing over a spot inside that made him jump, made his cock flood to full hardness. "Sam!" He gasped out the name, his hand relinquishing the grass in his fist to grab at Sam’s arm. Fingers gave way to cock and Sam was inside him, not moving, just there, looking down into Dean's face. "Beautiful Dean. So beautiful."
His cock stroked over that place inside him, that spot that had to be his prostate and Dean's back arched, his cock twitching against his stomach. "Please…god…Sam…" And he knew it wasn't Sam, but he couldn't help the way he clung to him anyway, both hands now, gripping his hips, pulling him in, not enough, not nearly enough.
Sam’s cock filled him, his come hot and strong inside him as Sam’s hand grabbed his cock, stroking him twice to pull him back over that edge, Dean's come spilling out onto his stomach as his eyes rolled closed and he passed out.