You Belong to Me, Part One - Supernatural, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: You Belong to Me (Part One)
Pairing: Sam/Dean, John/Dean, Sam/Dean/John, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~24000 (total)
Summary: Sam's always been a little different, but when he figures out exactly how different and realizes it can give him the one thing he's always wanted but could never have, it changes him. He sets out to get the one elusive desire that has always slipped away from him, and along the way he slips a little down a dark path...

Warnings & A/Ns: Written for kebab1806 who bought me during the last Sweet Charity round. Warnings include: Underage sex (Sam is 15, though that isn't entirely clear)), incest of both the brother on brother and father/son variety, dubious consent to outright non-con depending on POV, fisting, rimming, use of insertables including penial insertion, humiliation, whoring, dominance and submission.



John Winchester was not a happy man. He scowled at the woman selling him his coffee and pushed his sunglasses up higher on his face to serve the dual purpose of hiding the blooming bruise under one eye and protecting his eyes from the harsh light of the sun. He was too old for the aches and pains and the unmistakable feeling of morning-after.

He pushed his way out of the coffee shop and out to where the Impala waited, his boys inside. Sam sat back as soon as he saw his father, his face flushing as if getting caught at something. Dean's face was pissy and pinched and looking out the passenger window.

John sighed and opened the driver's door, sliding in with a groan that was half him, half the worn old seat. He sipped at his coffee before he started the engine. It was too early in the morning to deal with Sam and his shit.

He heaved another sigh. If he wasn’t harping about school, it was making friends, and if neither of them were cranking him up, he was being all secretive about shit with Dean. More and more, Dean wasn't happy with the way that was going down too, which made everything that much more miserable.

Mix in the kid's inordinate number of headaches and bad dreams, and the way he sometimes seemed to look right through John, and the whole thing was just leading some place he couldn't let it go. John needed to reign the boy in. Especially where Dean was concerned.

Dean, who would give Sam anything. Sam was coddled by his brother, always had been. He got them back on the road and decided it was time to talk to Sam about the shit he should have handled before now. But not with Dean in the car.

He'd wait until they stopped for the night. Send Dean off to pick up food. He'd do it then.

Only, then was when Pastor Jim called to give John some information on the job waiting for them in Minnesota. Dean went out for burgers and Sam laid out across the bed watching some stupid movie on the motel television while John ducked outside to talk to Jim.

By the time he was off the phone, Dean was back and he and Sam bickered through dinner before John was yelling at them to shut up and go to sleep. Dean locked himself in the bathroom for the longest shower on record and Sam laid down to ignore them both.

Eventually things settled down and Dean emerged from the bathroom, flashing his charming smile at Sam who just rolled his eyes and moved over to make room for Dean in the bed. John pretended not to notice, not to watch or listen, marking notes in his journal while they whispered and touched and Sam eventually convinced Dean to let him rest his head on Dean's shoulder.

Soon.

John needed to talk to him soon. Because even as Winchesters, there were some things that you just don't do. Things that are wrong, even when everything you do goes against society's rules.

Soon.

Which stretched out a little longer than John meant for it to…a couple weeks even, past the ghost in Minnesota and on to a rawhead in Iowa. He ended up taking both boys on that one because the damn thing had at least two kids, and John knew from experience that one set of hands wasn't enough to deal with the rawhead, so he needed Sam to deal with the kids.

When it was over, Dean had taken a bad fall and John found Sam holding him at the bottom of a hill. Dean blinked and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get up, despite Sam holding him down. Sam looked up at John. "He hit his head. Was out cold when I found him. He needs to stay down so I can get a look."

"I'm fine." Dean growled, finally breaking free of Sam's hands to roll onto his side and press himself up.

"Let me see." John said, reaching for him. Dean made a face, but turned to let John explore the back of his head. "That's a nasty knot. Best we go get some ice on it."

Sam stood, obviously not happy, and scowled all the way back to the car. John walked behind him and Dean, watching as they naturally gravitated toward one another, even though they were both pissed. Sam walked hunched a little at the shoulders, but as they got to the car he straightened up and John realized for the first time that Sam was actually taller than Dean now.

He'd filled out too over the summer, his shoulders and arms well defined and muscled. Sam wasn't a kid anymore. He got them back to the motel and built Dean an ice pack out of one of the towels.

It was already August, and they needed to be somewhere where Sam could start school in a few weeks. John sat at the small table while Sam fussed over Dean who groused, but eventually laid down and let Sam take over holding the ice. John pulled out the map, but he was watching Sam more than he was looking for someplace to live.

Eventually, Dean was asleep and Sam slid off the bed. "Another job?" he asked as he looked over John's shoulder.

"Actually, I was looking for a town to settle down in for the semester. School starts soon."

Sam looked at the map, then pointed. "There. Central enough you and Dean can run off and hunt. Big enough to have decent schools where I won't stand out as the freak."

John nodded, looking over the town and it's neighboring cities. "I was thinking we'd find us a house this time. Three bedrooms, a second bathroom."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, you're not a kid anymore Sam. You can't keep living in your brother's back pocket the way you have. You both need your own space, and you can't get it sleeping in the same bed."

Sam was looking at him like he was afraid John might vanish. John just nodded like it was settled. “Though, I don’t mind the sharing.” Sam said, glancing back at Dean. “I like knowing where he is.”

John snorted. “Yeah, and he’s no kid anymore either. Hard for him to sneak girls into his room when he’s got you and me in the same space.”

Sam’s face hardened. “Doesn’t mean he isn’t getting laid. Trust me.”

John squinted up at him. “Sam…Dean needs the space too. Doesn’t need you giving him a hard time about his dating habits.”

Sam scowled at him, but before Sam could say anything more, John stood, intent on saying what needed to be said. “He isn’t yours Sam. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, and I don’t care if either of you wants guys or girls or whatever…but you need to stop hanging all over him and making him feel guilty every time he winks at a pretty girl.”

Sam recoiled, shaking his head. “Dude, Dad…what the hell?”

“Some things are just wrong Sam, even for us.”

“We are not having this conversation.” Sam said, pulling away. “Really?”

“We’ve never talked about sex-“

Sam covered his ears. “God, no…and we aren’t going to.”

“I’m your father-“

Sam held up his hand. “Dude, Dean already gave me the basics, okay? Anything he didn’t cover, I got at school, okay?” He shivered and walked away.

“You can talk to me, you know that?”

Sam turned and looked at him, his face skeptical. “Right…because you are so easy to talk to.” He shook his head. “You should…go get drunk or something. I’ll keep an eye on Dean.”

Actually, a stiff drink sounded very good right then. John pulled a hand through his hair and nodded. “Wake him up in an hour, make sure his eyes are focusing. Call my cell if he doesn’t wake up or has a problem.”

“This isn’t my first concussion watch.” Sam said, waving at the door. “Go on.”

John grabbed his jacket and the keys to the car and headed for the door. There was a bar just up the street, and a stool with his name on it.

Sam watched his father leave, exhaling in relief when the tell-tale sound of the Impala’s engine had faded into the background noises of frogs and grasshoppers. His heart was still pounding out a frantic rhythm. He’d played it off, like his father was crazy, like Sam was freaked by his implication.

The reality of it was that he was freaked out by how close his father had skirted to the truth. He looked at Dean, trying to figure out if he was actually sleeping or just pretending.

Obviously Sam hadn’t been as discrete as he had thought, or Dean had said something. Sam felt the color drain from his face at that thought. Dean couldn’t begin to understand how Sam felt…and if he couldn’t, there was no way that John Winchester would.

He’d played it cool, but for as long as he could remember, Sam’s world had revolved around Dean and the things Dean did for him. The older Sam got, the harder it was to pretend that it was just brotherly affection.’

Not that he’d ever said anything. Fuck, no. Dean wouldn’t ever even consider…he might be willing to do anything for Sam, but even Dean had limits. So Sam hovered, watched, interfered. He knew it wasn’t right, but it didn’t seem to matter. Nothing mattered but Dean.

It wasn’t even like he was gay or something. It was just Dean. Sam didn’t want anyone else. Sam ran a hand over his face and went to sit on the bed beside his brother. They were all different. Dean had told him that since he was old enough to understand. They had different rules than everyone else, because they worked outside the rules to keep the people safe.

Stealing and credit card theft were wrong, but they did it to keep hunting the bad things. Lying was wrong, but they did it so people wouldn’t lock them up and to keep them from blundering into something that would get them killed.

So really, why shouldn’t this be the same?

His hand caressed lightly over Dean’s forehead, feather light. Dean shifted and turned more onto his back, then winced as the knot on the back of his head found the pillow. His eyes opened, dark in the dim light of the motel room.

Sam offered him a smile, pulling his hand back. “Just checking.”

“I’m fine.” Dean responded, more instinct than necessity. “Dad?”

Sam shrugged. “Went to have a drink.”

Dean sat up, pulling his legs up so he could sit against the wall. “You okay?”

Sam frowned at him. “Me? You’re the one who got hurt.”

“You’re the one looking like someone took away your Millenium Falcon.”

“You were sleeping when Dad tried to have the sex talk with me.” Sam said, getting up off the bed to tug his shirts up and off. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Dad tried to do the birds and bees thing?”

Sam nodded, rolling his eyes. “Only I think he was going more for the loaded gun analogy than the birds and bees. I don’t know, I cut him off.”

He tossed his shirts at his duffle bag and toed off his shoes.

“I told you we needed to get you laid.” Dean said, rubbing at his head. “Maybe that would prove to him you’re okay.”

It wasn’t like Sam was even a virgin…or that Dean would know that. He’d kept it quiet. The girl had been one of Dean’s, still sweaty from her romp in the back seat of the impala. She liked it dirty and dangerous and Sam had taken advantage of that, letting her think he was Dean, coming up behind her as she passed an alley and telling her to close her eyes. He’d been hard and aching from watching them, from imagining Dean in her place and she’d squealed with delight as he pushed up into her heat, into the wetness of her earlier orgasm. It was the closest he’d ever come to getting what he really wanted.

Sam shook the memory off. It had been the night he turned fifteen. He dropped his pants and walked toward the bed in his boxers. “I don’t need your help.”

Dean snorted as Sam slid into bed. “If you say so Sammy.”

“I do say so.” Sam looked up at him, suddenly annoyed with him. “You think I can’t get laid when I want to?”

Dean crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. An idea started to form and Sam sat up. “Okay, let’s make it interesting.”

“Define interesting.” Dean responded cautiously, his eyes narrowing.

“A wager.” Sam rubbed his hands together and considered how to word it.

“I’m listening.”

“Next town we stay in. I get laid before you do.”

“What’s your offer?” Dean asked. Sam knew he had him, as long as he went carefully.

“If I do get laid before you, you have to kiss someone I pick. A real kiss too, Dean, tongues and everything.”

Dean licked his lips. “And when you lose?”

“I’ll do your laundry for a month.”

Dean shook his head. “Not good enough. You have to wear the pink panties to school everyday for two weeks.”

Sam wanted to protest, because the pink panties were way too small and lace and two weeks in them would mean he couldn’t sit for a month, but with the price set like that, and the reward if he won…Sam would just have to make sure he won.

“I’ll take that bet.” Sam offered his hand. Dean was still a little wary, but he held out his hand too.

“Okay, you’re on. But don’t think you can scam me Sam. I’m going to need proof.”

Sam grinned. “I can do that Dean. Don’t worry.” He laid back down, imagining Dean’s face when Sam one and came to claim his prize.

Something was clearly going on between his boys. They were both looking to run off before they'd even emptied the car into the house John had rented for them. John grabbed Sam when he was half way to the door. "Training first."

"I gotta get registered for school." Sam countered. "Office closes in an hour."

John sighed and nodded. "Straight back afterward. I mean it."

Sam grinned at him. "Where else would I go?"

"Dean." John's voice stopped him at the kitchen door. "You're going to help me set up the obstacle course."

"Dad, come on. We just got here. Can't that wait until tomorrow?"

John grunted as the door closed behind Sam and Dean tried not look like he wanted to chase him down.

"What's going on?" John asked.

Dean shrugged. "Nothing. Just…wanna get out and see the town, maybe find a bar or something."

"We're going to be here a while." John said. "That fake id is only going to work until people get to know you."

"So I'll get a better one." Dean responded. "Come on."

"Why don't you tell me what's going on with you and Sam."

Dean's guilt showed all over his face, but he did his best to slough it off. "Nothing….I mean, just a friendly wager. That's all."

John raised an eyebrow and Dean rolled his eyes. "The little geek said he could get laid in this town before I could. Now he's got a head start."

John chuckled. "You're worried about your fifteen year old brother catching tail before you?"

Dean looked indignant. “Well, no. Not worried. Just…I like to win."

"Did you at least give him condoms?" John asked.

"Put one in his wallet."

At least if Sam was out chasing some pretty girl to win his bet, he wasn't laying all over Dean. Maybe Sam had actually listened to him. "Go on. Just try not to rub it in when you win, okay?"

Dean grinned. "When do I ever!" He took off out the front door, leaving John alone in the rented house.

He headed for the kitchen table, dropping his journal and a stack of the local papers on the table. He needed to get the lay of the land.

For a change, Dean was fairly pleased with the town their father had chosen to drop them in for the semester. He’d be more grateful when his kid brother was old enough to drop out, so they didn’t have to keep stopping their lives for him to go to school.

The town was big enough to have a multitude of bars and a few other places to hang out and meet hot chicks looking for a good time, not to mention a pool hall and pie joint…like a whole restaurant that only served pies.

He scoped out the main street, deciding to give the biker bar a wide berth. The last time he’d tried for a hook up in one of those, his father had to step in with guns to keep him from getting the shit kicked out of him.

He chose a bar that looked like a familiar hole-in-the-wall kind of joint, crossing the street. He checked his breath, paused to check his hair in the window he was passing, and stopped.

Inside, his brother was laughing with someone. Already. Dean squinted through the glare, watching Sam lean back against the counter behind him. It seemed to be some sort of rec center. He watched as Sam leaned in, whispering in the ear of some girl who was short, curvy and brunette. Not Dean’s first choice, but pretty. She was maybe a little older than Sam, not quite as old as Dean.

She flushed at whatever Sam said, her smile widening. She nodded and gestured toward the back of the building with her head. Sam glanced toward Dean, like he knew Dean was there, and his smile was nothing less than predatory.

There was no way. Dean headed into the building, trying to brush off the enthusiastic greeter as Sam and the girl headed through a set of double doors, Sam’s hand in the small of her back and drifting slowly south. She giggled and Dean growled at the young man trying to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, sir. You can’t go back there.”

Dean took a deep breath and looked down at the pimply faced kid. “My brother just went back there.”

“Members only, I’m afraid. And membership is limited to those under eighteen.”

“My brother isn’t a member either.”

“Sam?” the kid asked, looking back at the doors. “Of course he is.”

“Look kid, we just moved into town. He’s got a maybe ten minute head start on me.”

“Ah, I understand. We’re a local branch. Our membership is open in fifteen states and online.”

“Online?” He frowned around them. “What the hell kind of place is this?”

“We started as a support group for kids who have lost a parent, and have grown into an organization-“ Dean tuned him out and pushed him aside, heading for the door Sam and the girl had disappeared through.

There was gym with basketball hoops and the like, but no sign of Sam or the girl. There was a door on the opposite end. Dean jogged across the floor to it, pushing it open and emerging out the back of the building into a parking lot. He scanned a handful of cars and was just about to decide they had already left the are when he saw movement.

He turned. There, in the back of the lot. It was an old, beat up Chevy, older than the Impala. It rocked and the back window was steaming up. Dean looked around him to make sure no one was watching and crossed the parking lot, keeping at least one car between him and the Chevy.

They had to be making out. Even Dean didn’t work that fast, and Sam was no where near the level Dean was when it came to talking pretty girls out of their panties. He inched closer and moved so he could see in the driver’s side window that had been cracked open.

They were in the back seat. He couldn’t see much of Sam…his hand on the back of the front seat, his foot on the window. The girl though…Dean could see her. She was sitting up, her shirt open, rocking…like she was…No. Dean shook his head. It wasn’t possible. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. She was very clearly riding Sam. The car rocked to her movement.

Sam’s hand left the back of the seat and slid up under her open blouse, clearly caressing over her breast. She leaned forward, and it looked like she was kissing Sam.

“Damn…fuck…shit…” The girl’s voice carried as she sat back up and leaned back, offering Dean a side view of her nipples. “So big…”

“You know you like it.” Sam’s voice growled as he sat up, hands supporting her as she laid back on the seat. There was some awkward fumbling as they got switched around, then Sam started snapping his hips forward.

His mouth was open, his face dark and when he lifted his eyes, he was looking directly at Dean. Sam grinned. “Told me you wanted a big cock.” Sam said to the girl, though he was still looking at Dean, at least until his eyes closed and he yelled, shuddering.

Dean looked away then, turned his back on the car and pressed the heel of his palm down onto his hardening cock. He hadn’t just watch his little brother have sex. He wasn’t hard from the way his brother spoke to that girl.

He shook his head and exhaled slowly. There was the sound of a car door, then the sound of a zipper. “Hey, I think this is yours.” Sam’s voice said, making Dean turn, just in time to catch the tied off condom Sam threw at him.

"Oh, yeah, nice." Dean made a face as he dropped it to the ground. "You're disgusting."

Sam was grinning. "I won."

"You cheated." Dean said defensively, keeping the car between him and Sam.

"You watched." Sam responded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "And it wasn't cheating. You didn't say anything about already knowing the someone I had sex with."

The other car door opened and the girl got out, adjusting her skirt. Sam gestured at Dean. "Alison, Dean. Dean, Alison."

Dean could feel his face burning, but he lifted a hand. She smiled. "So, we don't leave until Sunday night." She slipped something in Sam's hand. "If you want some more help…getting settled."

Sam leaned in and kissed her. Then she was waving and walking away. "So…Dean…" Sam came around the car that separated them. Dean self consciously backpedaled away from him. Something in Sam's eye was a little scary. "It's time for you to pay up."

Dean licked his lips, his hands curling around the fence suddenly at his back. "No one here but us, Sammy."

"Very observant, Dean." Sam didn't stop coming closer, even though Dean was up against the fence.

"What the fuck?" Dean shook his head, then held up both hands to keep Sam from closing the distance. "You can't be serious."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "Can't I?"

"Dude, I'm your brother."

"And I bet if I grabbed you right now, you're hard."

Dean's eyes darted to Sam's hand and he stepped to the side. Sam followed. "You made a bet Dean, and you lost. You have to kiss whoever I tell you to. Full kiss, tongue and all."

"I remember the bet." Dean squirmed and looked around them, trying to find a way out of it. He stepped to the side again, and again Sam followed and now they were between the fence and the car and Sam was closer, almost on top of him.

Sam's hand pressed into the fence on Dean's left, then his right, boxing him in. "You and I both know that you're insanely turned on right now." Sam said, his voice dark, his breath ghosting over Dean's lips.

He didn't want to be, but Sam was right, Dean's arousal had ratcheted up with Sam's behavior. He looked away. "I am not kissing you Sam." Except for how that was all he really wanted to do. Even though he was pretty sure he didn't want to. It was confusing.

"A bet's a bet."

Sam was right there. So close, so insanely close. Dean licked his lips and his tongue touched Sam's. They tasted like cherry lip gloss. Dean breathed in, sure he was going to push Sam off him, and instead he took that last little space away and let their lips brush together.

Sam tilted his face and just like that their mouths were connected, Sam's lips parting against his, his tongue teasing along the tip of Dean's until Dean let go of the last of his resistance to the idea and his mouth opened.

Sam’s tongue filled his mouth, caressing over his and up over the roof of his mouth. He shifted, pressing Dean against the cold metal of the chain link fence. Dean tried to protest, but the sound came out as a moan that Sam licked up and swallowed down.

Dean tried to pull away, to breathe, but Sam followed him and Dean didn’t know when his little brother learned to kiss like that, but it was causing his brain to short circuit and forget that this was Sam he was kissing. When Dean’s tongue slipped into Sam’s mouth, Sam responded by pressing his knee between Dean’s legs and up into his already hard cock.

He groaned and got his hands on Sam’s chest to push him away, but Sam’s hand was in his hair and pulling to hold him in place…and that, right there…Dean didn’t know how Sam knew that…how the way Sam just took what he wanted did things to Dean that he didn’t even want to admit to himself.

Finally Sam lifted his face, his eyes meeting Dean’s with a possessive fire in them that made Dean’s heart stop. Sam blinked and the look was gone and he was grinning his dopey smile with his hair in his eyes and he stepped away, leaving Dean hard and aching and leaning on the fence so he wouldn't fall down.

For a long time after Sam walked away, Dean just stood there clinging to the fence. He licked his lips, tasting the vague hint of cherry lip gloss and the forbidden taste of Sam.

He cleared his throat and pushed off the fence, palming hard against his cock. "Even you are not that fucked up." Dean chastised himself. For one thing, Dean was pretty damn sure that he wasn't gay. A quick inventory of his life pointed only to girls.

There was not a single thought of men in his sexual fantasy world, unless he counted that strange thing with the drill sergeant ordering him and the girl around, telling them what to do and how to do it…and if Dean wasn’t quick enough, the big fist in his hair, yanking, pulling, forcing him to the task.

Dean cleared his throat and pressed harder on his dick. Thinking of that was only making it worse.

Okay, so Dean had issues. He knew that. Never denied that.

But this was different, because this wasn’t just some random guy. This was his brother. His little brother, and Dean was supposed to protect him. Obviously he needed to step up his game.

Something was clearly wrong with Sam.

Dean would have to find out what it was and fix it. But first, he needed to fix the ache in his dick. If Sam could get laid ten minutes after hitting town, Dean certainly could accomplish it before the night was over.

He adjusted himself, cracked his neck and exhaled before heading back out to the main road to find himself a bar with cold beer and hot chicks.

The walk back to the run down three bedroom house on the edge of town went by quickly. Sam ran a finger over his lips, savoring the warmth still there from kissing Dean.

He figured Dean was off at some bar in town drinking and trying like crazy to get laid. Sam smiled to himself. It wouldn’t be that easy now. Not like it usually was. Dean had let him in. And now, no matter who he was kissing, Dean would think of Sam.

It had taken months to get this far.

Months of carefully exploring what he could and couldn’t do…not just with Dean, but with others. It was tricky business, getting a person to think that something is their own idea, something that they want…especially when it went against their very nature, not to mention when the person involved was as hard headed as his brother.

Sam had always been a little bit different, even from his father and brother, but his whole world had changed when he turned fifteen. The nightmares that had plagued him since he could remember seemed to change tone and shape even before then, filling his head with images of Dean…broken, bleeding…naked, chained. He begged until his voice was hoarse. Begged for Sam to end his torment, begged for Sam to take him, to touch him and use him.

Somewhere along the line they stopped being nightmares. They would start out that way, of course. Demons or ghosts or vampires, some times all at once. A hunt gone wrong, Dean hurt, captured, tortured…then…there would be a look in Dean’s eye, a desire…and it would end with Sam’s big hands forcing Dean down over some convenient table or down onto his knees.

At first he’d thought he was going crazy. That maybe it was time to tell someone about the nightmares, about how real they were, about how sometimes they came true…but he’d known even then that he couldn’t tell anyone.

His father would just tell him to suck it up and be a man. Dean would be the same. Worse, they could think something more was going on. He’d seen the notes in his father’s journal. He knew that John Winchester suspected that Sam was not his child, that the demon that killed Mary had switched him or done something to him. Sam telling his father that he’d known about the witch in Tupelo three nights before they got there?

Sam was fairly certain it would lead, at best, to an exorcism. And now that there was more to it? He shook his head as he approached the house. If his father knew what he could do? That Sam had done it to him?

Well, Sam wasn’t completely sure what he’d do, but he was willing to bet it wouldn’t be pleasant.

He let himself into the house and headed for his room.

“Back so soon?” his father asked as he emerged freshly showered from the bathroom.

“Didn’t take long.”

His father smirked. “You shouldn’t give up so easily, Son.”

Sam turned to look at him. “Give what up?”

John leaned against the door frame. “Dean told me about your bet.”

Sam smirked and shook his head. “Oh. That. I didn’t give up.”

His father raised an eyebrow. Sam blushed and little and shook his head. “There’s this girl Alison…I met her online a few months ago…we arranged to hook up when I hit town.”

John crossed his arms and tried to look stern, but his pride leaked through. “So you cheated.”

“No, the terms of the bet said nothing about how I met the person, just that I would get laid before he did.”

“You used protection?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I thought we agreed we didn’t talk about sex.”

John clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Answer the question.”

“Yes. Okay? Dean put one in my wallet just in case.”

“Good boy. I’m going to get dressed and see about getting some food in the house.”

"Something other than peanut butter and macaroni and cheese?"

His father laughed and nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want."

Sam stopped and frowned at him. "You mean, you want me to come with you?"

John nodded. "I'd like that."

"Okay." His father never asked him along for things like picking up food. "I'll wait in the living room." Sam would easily rather stay home and remember kissing Dean and think about what his next step was…but his father was clearly pleased with him and that didn't happen often. Sam kind of wanted to savor it for a bit.

Of course now that Sam had had a taste of Dean, the craving for more was worse. To make it even worse, now that Dean knew it was harder to get near him. The first few days after the kiss, Dean just avoided him. Now that they had their own rooms, that too was easier. Sam had to watch for the opportunity to get close enough to touch him and smooth things over.

The first opportunity came at breakfast Monday morning when Dean stumbled into the kitchen, slightly hungover and grumbling. Sam chuckled to himself. Dean had gone out every night since they kissed, fucked a different girl each night in an effort to forget, to remind himself that he was straight…or some such thing.

He sat at the small table and glanced at Sam. It was the first time Dean had looked at him since. He looked like he wanted to say something about it, his eyes narrow, but their father came into the room and Dean looked away.

"You got everything you need?" John asked as he poured coffee and sat down.

Sam nodded. "Think so."

John sipped on his coffee and put his journal on the table. "Got us a hunt south of here. Be gone before you get home. I'll leave you money."

Sam finished his cereal and stood. He'd hoped Dean would stay home, but it was clear from his father's tone that he was taking Dean. "Okay. Stay safe."

"Be a couple days." John said as Sam bent to retrieve his backpack from the floor, hand falling on Dean's arm for balance.

"I'll be fine." Sam responded, though his message was more for Dean than John. Dean stilled, then shook his head and pushed back from the table.

"You're gonna be late." Dean stepped away from him. "I'll get a bag together."

Sam watched him go.

"He still hasn't gotten over the fact that you won your little bet." John said, smirking behind his coffee cup.

"I keep telling him I'm not his baby brother anymore." Sam replied.

"All he has to do is stand next to you to figure that out." John gestured at Sam. "You're taller than him now, you know?"

Sam smirked because he did know, and in fact, it was working to his advantage. Dean probably didn't even know how much Sam's height was affecting him. Or the extra muscle Sam had started packing on. Sam knew. Sam knew everything that affected Dean and how.

"You should remind him of that." Sam said, watching his father.

John stood. "You should get your ass to school. Don't want to be late on your first day."

Sam shouldered his backpack and headed for the front door. His father wouldn't even realize how many times he mentioned Sam to Dean while they were gone. Dean would though. And every single time it would remind Dean of how hard he'd been when Sam walked away from him.

The hunt was over and they were on their way back. Dean sat in the passenger seat staring out the window while his father drove, trying to place why the thing with Sam had happened…or why he'd wanted it, even though he didn't. "Have you noticed anything strange with Sam lately?" Dean asked as they neared the town they were spending the semester in.

"Like what?" his father asked in reply, glancing at Dean.

Dean shifted in his seat because he was not explaining to that to his father. "I don't know. He's just been…weird. More than normal."

John chuckled. "He's fifteen. You were weird too."

Dean made a face. "It's more than hormones." His head filled with the image of Sam's face just before they kissed. "He's…different."

"He's growing up Dean. Happens to everyone." John looked at him, then back at the road. "You're not going to be able to control him forever, you know?"

Dean snorted. "When have I ever controlled him?" No, Sam pretty much controlled Dean, in point of fact. He hadn't ever been able to deny his brother anything. At best he'd been able to redirect him, or put him off until whatever it was Sam wanted wasn't impossible.

There was something about Sam lately though, something in his eyes. Dean couldn't put a finger on it, but something was off.

"You want me to have a talk with him?" his father asked as they pulled onto the street where the house was.

"Right, cause you do so well at that." He shook his head. "No, I'll just keep an eye on him."

"You do that." John nodded toward the porch of the house where Sam was sitting with some blond girl.

John parked the car and Dean got out, watching Sam stand and smooth a hand down his thigh. The kid had big hands. Dean swallowed and looked away. He should not be thinking about Sam's hands. Or the way they had fisted in his hair, pressed him into the fence. Shit.

Dean cleared his throat and looked past Sam at the girl. She was cute. Next to Sam she looked tiny. Sam grinned and put his hand on her shoulder. "Shelby, my brother Dean and my father."

"I see all the men in your family are good looking." Shelby said, smiling at Dean.

"I'm gonna shower." Dean moved past them, into the house. He was suddenly hot all the way down to his toes, the taste of Sam's tongue in his mouth as if they'd just kissed. He could hear Sam laughing, saying something about Shelby being in his science class and a project. He pushed through to the bathroom and stripped down, hoping the water could wash away the incredible need and corrupt desire running through him.

He started with hot water, washing off the grime from the hunt. Clearly there was something not right going on. It went beyond what happened with Sam that day behind the rec center. Sam was far too happy. There hadn't been a single complaint about anything since that day, not about Dean hogging the hot water, or having to walk to school, not about Dean's teasing.

Sam never went so long without griping.

Dean stuck his head under the water to rinse the shampoo, wanting it to clear his head at the same time.

Then there was the way Dean was finding it difficult to think past Sam. That couldn't be normal. He'd be hitting on some girl, working up to making out or more, and Sam would be all he could think about. The confidence he had as he kissed Dean, the way his eyes sparkled darkly, the taste of him…and Dean would get hard…only it was getting harder and harder to come.

And that, he knew, wasn't normal.

Normal was Sam and some girl on the front porch, not the way it made Dean want to send her away or the way he was getting hard thinking about Sam kissing her. Dean groaned and turned the hot water down, letting the cold wash over him. He was not going to let this happen.

Sam was wrong. He didn’t want it. No matter what his cock seemed to think.

“I saw you.”

Dean looked up at the door to his bedroom. Sam leaned on the door frame. “You were jealous.”

“Over some jail-bait you brought home? Not hardly.”

Sam smirked and shook his head. “No, not her.”

Dean sighed and balled up his towel to toss in the corner. He felt oddly naked in his boxers, though he’d never felt so exposed in them before. “I’m tired, Sam.”

“I know.” He held up a bottle. “Dad said your back was bothering you. Thought I could help.”

The liniment would feel good…and Sam had those hands. Dean cleared his throat and nodded. Sam smiled and closed the door, gesturing Dean toward the bed. “Lay down.”

Dean stretched out across the bed and Sam settled down next to him. The bottle popped open and the smell of the liniment filled the air. “Relax.” Sam said as he touched Dean’s back and Dean started.

“Sorry.” Dean murmured, pillowing his head on his hands.

“Shh.” Sam’s hand spilled the warmed liquid onto Dean’s skin and slowly spread it around, all gentle at first, heating up the skin as he passed over Dean’s shoulder blades and down his back. “You’re tense.”

“Getting tossed around by ghosts can do that.” Dean replied, letting his eyes close as Sam’s hands worked a little deeper into the knotted muscles. He gasped as Sam found one of the bad ones and dug into it, pressing hard to get it to release.

Just as Dean was ready to shove him off, Sam slid his hand over the knot and rubbed down along Dean’s spine. “Sometimes I think you like it.” Sam said softly, his breath ghosting over Dean’s skin. His thumbs worked in circles in the small of Dean’s back, and he shifted so that he was straddling over Dean’s ass. “Do you?”

“What?” Dean shook his head a little, not entirely sure what Sam was asking.

Sam rubbed up his back, leaning in to the stroke and pushing the air out of Dean’s lungs as he did. “Do you like it?”

Dean nodded, then frowned. “Like what?”

Sam’s thighs clamped around his hips and he leaned in low over Dean’s ear. “When you get pushed up into the wall and held there, helpless.”

Dean stiffened, his cock hardening, though he wasn’t sure if it was Sam’s words or Sam’s tone or the idea of Sam’s hand doing the pushing. “See, I think you do.” Sam growled into his ear.

“Sam.” Dean meant it as a warning, but it came out sort of like a groan.

Sam’s hands floated over his back, light now and unsatisfying. “You know you can’t lie to me.” Sam worked a knot under Dean’s left shoulder blade. “I can see right through you Dean.”

“Sam, you need to stop.” Dean managed, lifting up and half turning to squint up at his brother. “I’m not…you aren’t…” He huffed and Sam rolled his eyes at him.

“Lay down Dean.” Sam said, his hands rolling over Dean’s tense shoulders. “I’m not done yet.”

He wanted to argue and tell him to leave, but his big hands were making their way down his back again, pressing Dean into the mattress and he could only groan as he found the tightest spot and focused his attention.

“See, I have this theory.” Sam said a while later as his hands rubbed out from the center of Dean’s back and onto his hips. “About what you really want.”

Sam lifted one leg and grabbed Dean’s shoulder, rolling him over and straddling over him quickly, his hands continuing their massage, but over his chest and stomach now. Sam shifted his weight and Dean froze as he realized that his cock was still hard and Sam was pressing down against it.

“Sam, stop.”

Sam shook his head, keeping his hands moving. The liniment tingled against Dean’s nipples as Sam’s hands ran over them. “Not finished.”

“Yes, you are.” Dean lifted his hand, shoving at Sam who wouldn’t budge. When did Sam get so strong? He shoved on Sam’s arm, getting enough leverage to pull himself out from under his brother. “Sam…this…this is wrong. You have to stop.”

Sam stood on the opposite side of the bed, watching him. His face looked like it had that day when they’d kissed. “If it’s wrong, why do you let me do it?”

Dean looked away, licking his lips. “Do what?” Dean asked, looking back and suddenly Sam was right there, shoving him back against the dresser.

The impact shook him and Dean couldn’t react, even when Sam kissed him. Sam’s mouth covered his, more like claiming ownership than kissing and Dean’s mouth just fell open, letting him, even though he was sure he meant to push him away. Sam’s hand circled around Dean’s cock, jacking him fast and hard through the cotton of his boxers. “This.” Sam whispered into his mouth. “Why do you let me do this.” His hand twisted over the head and Dean couldn’t have stopped the orgasm if he had been thinking coherently, which he wasn’t.

He shuddered as he came, sagging against the dresser as Sam let go of him, grinning that stupid little brother grin. “Feel better?”

Dean closed his eyes. He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Sam that this couldn’t happen. Instead, his lips opened to Sam’s gentle kiss and when he opened his eyes again, Sam was gone.

"What's this, like the third girl this week?" John asked as Sam came in from the porch where he'd been making out with some girl in braces and a skirt that almost didn't cover her ass.

Sam smirked and shrugged. "It's been a good week."

"You maybe aught to slow it down there, Casanova. No need to blow through the whole town before Thanksgiving." He watched Sam look down the hall to Dean's room and frown. Whatever had gotten into Sam certainly hadn't helped Dean out in the romance department. The kid hardly even came out of his room unless John made him, and even then he'd train, then disappear back into his room.

"What's for dinner?" Sam dropped his books on the coffee table.

"Pizza?" John asked.

Sam shrugged. "Whatever. I have homework." He flopped onto the couch.

John gestured at the television. "Game's coming on."

"Dean's the one who cares." Sam lifted the top book and proceeded to ignore his father completely. John headed for the kitchen, ordering the pizza and pulling a beer out of the fridge before heading down the hall to knock on Dean's door.

"Hey, game's on, pizza's on the way."

Dean opened the door and rubbed at his eyes. "Gimme a minute."

"What the hell you doing in there?"

"Nothing." Dean pulled the door open to show that he wasn't dressed. "Just need pants."

John frowned at him. "You been hiding in here for days."

Dean looked pissed and walked away, grabbing at a pair of jeans. "Not hiding. Thinking."

John snorted. "About what?"

"Sam." Dean froze, then shook his head. "I mean, he's being an ass."

"He's behaving just like you." John countered. "Don't tell me you’re jealous."

Dean pulled his jeans on. "No, he's pulling teenage kids who don't know their way past petting without a manual." He made a face and John almost believed him.

The doorbell rang and John went to get the pizza, leaving Dean to finish putting his clothes on. Dean ruffled Sam's hair as he passed, grabbing at pizza and dropping into the beat up old chair.

Sam looked up from whatever he was studying. "Nice of you to come out of your hole."

"Bite me." Dean responded.

Sam grinned at him and Dean blushed and for a second John had to wonder if he'd missed something, then Sam grabbed a slice of pizza and dove back into his homework while Dean's eyes went back to the game.

John watched them ignore one another for a while, before Dean headed into the kitchen for drinks and when he came back the tension seemed to have eased. Dean sat on the couch with Sam next to him. At some point the game ended and some movie came on and when John looked up, Sam's head was in Dean's lap.

Dean's hand caressed through Sam's hair lightly. Sam's eyes were half closed and they both looked so content, like this was where they belonged, in each other's space, touching. Dean's hand stopped, his thumb on Sam's forehead.

Sam looked up at him and John felt suddenly like he didn't belong there, like he was intruding on something private…which was ridiculous. Dean shook his head minutely, his eyes darting to John. Sam's hand lifted, caressing over Dean's cheek. "It's okay." Sam whispered, guiding Dean's face closer.

John held his breath, watching as Dean leaned in, his lips brushing over Sam's. He shook his head. "No." He should say something more than that, but he couldn't think past wrong and beautiful and a half dozen other jumbled up words that made no sense.

Sam sat up slowly, his eyes scanning over John and coming to his face. A soft smile played on his lips as he stood and reached for John, his hand tender as it stroked over his cheek. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. John nodded slowly. For so long they had lived in one another's pockets, Dean had given everything to his brother…it was only right he give this too. Sam would take care of him.

Sam reached out a hand for Dean, pulling him in and Dean came, though his face was pinched. "I'm going to take Dean to bed. You sit here, have another beer."

John nodded, lifting the half empty beer in his hand and draining it.

Dean didn't resist as Sam drew him down the hall and into his bedroom. "Get undressed Dean." Sam murmured as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall.

"Sam…"

Sam kissed him softly. "It's okay. Just want to hold you, okay?"

Dean nodded, though the look on his face was more confused than before. He dropped his jeans and pulled off his shirts, leaving him in his boxers. He shuffled to the bed and slid under the blankets. Sam joined him, laying out beside him, molding his body to the shape of Dean’s.

It had taken almost two weeks to get Dean to trust him again, to let him touch him…and Sam needed that touch. Not always, of course, not for little things, like getting Dean to look at him or whatever…but when it came to the big stuff, to letting Sam kiss him or getting Dean to want something that went against his nature, for those things Sam needed to touch, and he needed to concentrate.

His father was even harder, though now Sam seemed to have found his way in, and the old man seemed to take suggestion like it was command. He suppressed the smile and tugged Dean closer.

“Sam…” the tone of the word was uncertain. Sam caressed over his naked stomach and murmured soft sounds in his ear. He knew he nearly had Dean where he wanted him, knew that if he pushed a little, he could have Dean right then…but he also knew that pushing was one way to get Dean’s guard up, and if he caught on…if he realized what his brother was doing…well, Sam didn’t want to find out how that would play out.

“Sleep Dean. Just sleep.” He could already feel the tension draining out of Dean’s frame, feel him settling into the bed, into Sam’s arms. Small steps.

It was surreal, waking up with Sam spooned around behind him. His body was warm and languid and comfortable, parts of his brain in a similar state…and yet there was a sense of danger, of something being wrong.

Dean shifted and slipped out of Sam’s arms, sitting up and pressing his hands into his eyes. Sam’s hand followed him, splayed out over his back, all hot and possessive. It made Dean sort of want to curl back up under the sheet.

He could hear his father in the hallway and stood, looking back as Sam pulled his hand back under the sheet and sniffled in his sleep. Dean pulled on his jeans and shuffled out into the hallway, following the smell of coffee into the kitchen. His father looked like shit, like he was hungover after three days of drinking.

“You look like crap.” John said as Dean poured coffee.

“Have you looked in a mirror?”

John ran a hand over his face. “Feel like crap too.”

“I don’t feel so bad…just…tired.” He sat at the table and rubbed over his face. “And…like I’m forgetting something.”

“Funny, me too. The forgetting.” John sat opposite him and drank from his cup. “Or like there’s something I should be doing.”

“We haven’t had a hunt in a while.” Dean offered. “Maybe we need to find one.”

John nodded. “I’ll call Bobby, see if he’s heard of anything in the area.”

“Though I don’t like the idea of leaving Sam alone.” Dean frowned as he said it. He hadn’t worried about leaving Sam alone in a long time.

“He has been awfully clingy the last two weeks.” John agreed. “You talk to him?”

Dean shook his head. “No. You?”

“I figured since he’s been sleeping in your room since last weekend…”

He snorted. “Sleeping being the important part. He crashes hard as soon as we get into bed.” He huffed and shook his head. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you?”

“What?” John asked, looking up.

“Sam, sleeping in my bed when you went out of the way to get a place with three bedrooms.”

“He’s your kid brother, not used to sleeping alone.”

Dean snorted and got up to rummage in the cupboard for food. “He’s fifteen. He should be waking up to whatever pretty girl he seduced, not me.” He pulled down the box of Lucky Charms and went for a bowl. “I mean…don’t you think there’s something wrong…”

His father stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “He loves you."

"You two talking about me?" Sam asked as he came into the room. Dean blushed and pulled out a second bowl.

"Just talking." John answered.

"Well, he's right. I do love you." Sam said, sliding in behind Dean and putting his arms around Dean's waist.

"Sam." Dean tried to pull away, blushing even harder.

"Well, it's true. I'm not ashamed of it." Sam kissed the back of his neck and stepped away. "But, we shouldn't talk about this anywhere but here, to anyone but us."

"Of course not." Dean said, turning in his arms.

Sam grinned. "Good. Now, I am going to eat my breakfast and then head down to meet Phil and Tyler. Phil's old man is taking us out to a shooting range."

"Try not to embarrass them too much." John said, putting his coffee cup in the sink. "I'm going to call Bobby, see what's stirring in the world of evil."

Sam snagged his bowl of cereal and sat at the table, Dean could feel his eyes watching him. "Something wrong, Dean?"

Dean frowned, trying to find the words. "I don't know. You tell me."

Sam shook his head. "I feel fine. A little horny…but I figured I'd take care of the later." He looked up, his eyes sparkling. "Unless you wanna take care of it now."

Dean felt a rush of desire as Sam stood, his hand falling to his groin. "I mean, it's only fair, right? I've helped you a lot lately. Remember?"

Dean remembered frantic middle of the night hand jobs, barely awake, yet hard and aching and needing Sam to touch him. "I…" He shook his head.

The sound of Sam's zipper was loud and Dean couldn't look away as Sam eased out his cock. It wasn't like he'd never seen his brother's cock, but it had been a while. A few years. And it had changed.

Sam was staring at him as he stroked it, and it hardened in his hand. It was big. Bigger than Dean's. "Come here Dean."

He moved before he was fully aware of it and Sam's hand that wasn't stroking himself slid around Dean's neck, grabbing tight and pulling him in to kiss him. Dean's lips opened easily and his hand moved slowly to Sam's cock. Sam pulled back and shook his head, his eyes dark and dangerous, the pupil fully blown and leaving only a thin ring of green around the edge.

"I don't want your hand, Dean."

His grip tightened and he shoved Dean to his knees, holding him firmly in place as he rubbed the tip of his cock over Dean's lips. Up close it seemed even bigger, the head thicker than Dean had ever seen…not that he'd seen a lot. "Open your mouth." Sam's voice was cold, hard and Dean didn't want to obey, didn't want to want to hear him speak that way, or feel his fingers digging into Dean's neck, but the truth was that he was turned on by it and Sam clearly knew it.

"I said, open your mouth." Sam growled and Dean looked up at him, at the hard set of his face and opened just a little, but that was all Sam needed, pushing forward and filling Dean's mouth. He shoved in deep, and Dean gagged around him before he pulled out.

Dean's hand dropped to his own cock, now fully aroused and aching and Sam laughed. "I knew you wanted this." He pushed back in, his cock too big, too much. Dean could feel the corners of his mouth stretching.

He didn't know where his little brother learned this, but he was strong, hard and fast strokes not leaving Dean any room to try to do anything but hold still and pray it was over soon. Sam slowed his pace, lengthened his stroke, each one trying to put more of his huge cock inside Dean's mouth.

Dean closed his eyes and pressed down on his own cock, trying to fend it off.

"Take it out and show me." Sam said softly and Dean's hands quickly followed directions, easing his hard cock out of his pants while Sam stood with the head of his cock between Dean's lips. "Stroke it."

Dean worked his hands down his dick and Sam went back to fucking his face, matching Dean's rhythm until he got close. He pulled back, the hand holding Dean's neck not loosening as he stroked twice and sent come shooting over Dean's face. The hot come hit him on his lips and nose and dripped off his chin and still Sam didn't let go.

"Finish." Sam ordered, looking down at Dean's hand.

Dean stroked faster and harder…he hadn't been able to come on his own in weeks, not since Sam kissed him the first time…only with Sam's hands on him…pulling him over the edge.

Sam's hand tightened and there were going to be bruises on his neck later. Bruises he'd have to explain to his father, but right now that didn't matter. Dean gasped as it started, spilling onto the floor in front of him.

For a long minute Sam didn't move, then he let go of Dean and zipped himself up. "I have to get going…but I'll be home by dinner. You might want to clean up…you've got a little something…" Sam made motions at his face, then disappeared out the kitchen door, leaving Dean kneeling with come on his face and on the floor and feeling more than a little used.

Dean didn't want it. He told himself over and over again that it was wrong, that Sam was wrong. He was pretty convinced that something was wrong with Sam, but he couldn't articulate it.

At least, he thought those things whenever Sam wasn't around.

Whenever Sam was nearby though? Then his thoughts filled up with Sam. With Sam touching him. Sam kissing him. Sam shoving him to his knees.

And that lead to Dean getting hard at the most inappropriate times. One of these times someone other than Sam was going to notice.

But for the moment, Dean was Sam free, sitting in a bar not far from the school. His father was off meeting up with Bobby to share some information and that left Dean to keep an eye on Sam. He nursed his beer and eyed a young woman who had just come in.

It was early afternoon, well before anyone but the serious drinkers would be in a place like this, unless, like him, they were hiding from something. She slid onto a stool, her short skirt riding up a little. "Give me a beer, George."

The bartender put a beer in front of her and she must have felt Dean's eyes, turning to smile at him. "And who have we here?"

He smiled his most charming smile and held out his hand. "I'm Dean."

"Aren't you a pretty thing, Dean." She shook his hand lightly. "Young, but pretty."

"You should know better than to tease the kid, Rosy." George scoffed at her. "What if Hank finds out?"

"Hanks out of town." Rosy said, her eyes raking over Dean. "Besides, I dumped his sorry ass two days ago."

Which sounded an awful lot like trouble, but Dean liked the way she was looking at him, like she wanted to eat him alive. "Whatcha think kid? Want a thrill?" Her hand slid up his thigh and he nodded.

She lifted her beer, wrapping her lips around the neck and tilting it back. Dean watched her swallow and exhaled slowly. "Come on then." She put her beer down and slipped her cold, wet hand into Dean's tugging a little to get him moving.

She dragged him into the ladies room and shoved him up against the door, her hands running down the front of his shirt to the waistband of his jeans. "Don't look so scared…I won't bite. Much." She grinned and kissed him, aggressive and determined, knocking his head back against the door. She tasted like beer and cigarettes and before he had fully registered the kissing, her hand had his jeans open and she was sliding down his body, her mouth closing over his cock which was doing it's best to catch up.

Her tongue moved over the tip of his cock and down along the underside and Dean gasped when she closed her mouth over him and sucked hard. He reached for her, then pulled his hand back and she grinned up at him. "Just making sure you're ready for the ride, cowboy. Don't get too excited on me." She licked over him twice more, then stepped back toward the stall wall, her finger crooked at him as her other hand reached up over her head and grabbed the top. "Come here."

His jeans fell to his knees as he moved and she grabbed his cock with her free hand, lifting her leg and guiding him closer. Her skirt rode up and he could smell her arousal. She rubbed the head of his dick against her wetness, then guided him into her, pulling herself up while his hands sought out her ass to support her. She slid down his cock and wrapped both legs around him, both hands now supporting herself on the stall wall.

"Come on now, stallion…show me what you've got." She ground down against him and he tightened his grip on her before stepping closer, pinning her against the wall. His thrust was hard and it made her groan. "That's it. Give it to me."

Dean obliged, fucking up into her hard and fast, while she dropped one hand to rub furiously at her clit. Her heat tightened around him and she yelled as she came. "Don't stop…" she panted at him and he kept going, starting to sweat in the small bathroom.

She growled and ground down into each thrust, kissing him almost violently. He stumbled backward, taking her full weight on him until he crashed into the door, his knees buckling. She rode him to the floor and writhed on top of him, her hair dragging over his face as she leaned in and pulled herself nearly off him, only to slam herself back down.

Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on fucking up into her, his hands holding her hips now as he snapped his own up to meet her downward motion. His head filled with other images though, of Sam and his enormous cock, of watching Sam take this woman, watching his dick slide into her, his hand fisting in her hair to pull her back onto him while Dean lay under her, their combined juices coating his hard cock.

He grunted and shook his head, but his body didn't think it was wrong. His cock exploded up inside of her, making her squeal and fuck down onto him harder, her second orgasm coating his softening dick.

They lay panting on the bathroom floor until she finally sat back and grinned down at him. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all." She stood and went into the stall. Dean struggled up, crossing to the sink and running some water to clean up. He wet a paper towel and wiped his spent dick before tucking it back inside his jeans and zipping up. He heard the toilet flush and she emerged, her hair mussed and her cheeks flushed, but otherwise not looking as if she'd just been fucked.

He stood there awkwardly for a minute, then nodded to her. "Thanks, see you around." He let himself out of the bathroom, went to the bar where his unfinished beer waited and drained it, dropping some money on the bar and smirking at George. "See ya, George."

It was still early, but really, after that there was nothing left to be gotten from that particular bar. He set off walking, not really sure where to, but not surprised when he ended up at the high school.

School had been over for nearly an hour, but Sam was still there. Dean knew he was. He'd been tutoring a football player. Dean wandered toward the football field, winking at the cheerleaders who passed him. They giggled and he grinned, circling around the fence.

He wandered over to the bleachers, running a hand over the metal of the nearest bench. He'd spent a good amount of time under similar bleachers with various girls, and once or twice a teacher, when he was still going to school. Grinning to himself, he circled around to the back, ducking under, and stopping cold. He froze in place. The sounds were muffled, but distinct. In the gloom of the shadows, Dean could just make out two bodies.

The one on top was clearly Sam. Dean knew the minute Sam's eyes found him too. He could feel it in his stomach, in his balls. Sam grunted with the effort, his hips snapping forward. Dean watched, transfixed, his cock hardening. Sam's hand fisted in the hair of the-boy-he was fucking and dragged him back, sitting him on Sam's cock. Dean's heart skipped, his stomach flipflopping between jealousy and shame as Sam started dirty talking.

"That's it, take it. Fuck yourself on my cock. Does it hurt, Jason? Does it?"

Jason shook his head, his hands reaching above him for the bleachers, using them to hold himself up. "I'm going to come Jason, going to come inside you."

Sam's hand moved up under Jason's arm, his hand grabbing the back of the kid's neck and forcing him back to the ground. His hips snapped harder and harder, then he stilled, both of them collapsing forward.

Dean stared, even after they'd gone quiet and still. He tried to imagine Sam's cock inside him, but it made him shiver. The size of it…he shook his head, tried to deny how aroused he was by the idea. He closed his eyes and stumbled out from under the bleachers, away from them. He stood with his back against the fence.

He never heard Sam's approach, but he felt the hand that grabbed Dean's crotch. "Like what you see?" Sam asked, pressing himself against Dean. "I think you did." Sam froze then, sniffing at Dean's neck. "You stink like sex."

"You're one to talk." Dean responded, though he made no move to push Sam off him.

"You stink like a woman." Sam growled, both hands rising to grab Dean's shirt. "Did you fuck some woman?"

Dean looked away, suddenly ashamed of the act. "I…she….came on to me at a bar…I…"

"You wanted her?" Sam asked, his face red. He was angry, furious.

"Yes." Dean all but whispered the word.

Suddenly Sam stepped back, letting go of him. "Go home Dean. I'll be there soon."

He wanted to say something to make it better, but there weren't any words, he could only turn and start for home.