Prompts: 18-sluice
Title: Innocent Beginnings, Part 1
Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: 18 - sluice
Warnings: slash, incest, masturbation, first time
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Summary: Dean helps Sam with a personal problem.
Dean sat at the bar staring at his beer. A ring had already begun to form on the wooden surface from the condensation. He was wearing his leather jacket and enjoying the juke box. Apparently, the owner shared Dean's love of mullet rock. It was the best way to come down after a stressful day of interviewing and researching. Well, almost the best way.
The bartender had long, wavy brown hair. She'd stopped to flirt with Dean when business was slow. Dean turned on the charm like usual. It had just become habit with him. He never meant anything by it and if his actions caused him to have company that evening, well, it wasn't his fault. He didn't need to feel a connection to anyone. Just being surrounded by folks in an easy environment made him content with his life.
He smiled at the bartender after he realized she'd been speaking to him and he hadn't heard a word. He didn't want to seem impolite.
A pool table caught his attention when the argument over who had to take the newbie on their side grew in volume. He moved from resting his feet on the legs of the barstool to standing. His beer was half-gone and going warm, but he brought it with him anyway.
The four men at the pool table argued.
"No way. I can't get stuck with Luther. I had him last time."
"Maybe, but he is your relation. If anyone should have to suffer for his crappy pool playing it should be you."
"You're related to him, too!"
"By marriage don't count. I have no control over my sister marrying an idiot."
Dean lifted an eyebrow and tried not to laugh out loud at the dysfunctional extended family before him.
"Just take him! You put him with me and I'm quitting." The unfortunate closest relative to the man in question pouted. Neither of the other men were going to give on their stance.
Feeling like this was a pretty regular occurrence for the poor guy who hadn't said a word in his own defense, Dean stepped in.
"I'll play pairs with the loner here." Stunned faces turned to him. "We playing for money?"
"You don't know Luther. You definitely don't want any money involved if you're counting on him. Just some friendly advice, stranger."
"Dean, my name's Dean." He pulled out his wallet. "I'm actually a pretty good player. I'd like to a friendly wager. Say, twenty bucks?"
"If you insist," the guy with Luther for a brother-in-law laid his bills down by Dean's. "You must be a glutton for punishment."
"Just a little bored on my way through. Oh, if we win . . . What am I saying? When we win, the pouting asshole over there will help Luther learn pool instead of treating him like shit. Sound about fair, Luther?"
The small man next to Dean smiled. "Yeah, Davy! You can't make fun of me anymore!"
"I'll find something besides your pool skills," grumpy replied. "My mind is swamped with all the other things that are wrong with you," his voice was a little quieter but made sure to carry over to Luther.
"That your big brother over there spouting shit?" Dean asked Luther. He got a nod in reply. "I'm a fantastic pool player. Not only are we going to beat their asses, I'll give you some secrets of the trade to help you out later on your own. How's that sound?"
"Why are you helping me?"
Looking at the scrawny guy who still had to grow into his oversized limbs, he just chuckled, "You remind me of my brother. There's no way I would have talked crap like that to him and you don't deserve it either. Keep your eyes on the balls and concentrate on what we're doing. Those jerks will be buying you beers before the night is over."
Dean was very careful not to pull any special tricks on the table. He played an honest game of good pool and Luther soaked in everything Dean taught him. Damn kid was like a sponge and had made a hell of an improvement before their game was over.
"Looks like you won," Davy was drunk and mean. "Beginner's luck, man. You'll never be able to do that again."
"I sure know more than you ever showed me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna buy my new friend here a drink."
Luther made to pay for the alcohol with the winnings, but Dean refused. "Keep it. You did good. Celebratory drinks are on me."
They weren't riding high on the hog, but Dean hadn't needed to hustle anyone. He'd just wanted to relax with a game and making Luther feel a little better was just a bonus.
"So why are you here with those jerks?"
"Small town. Folks here either are my relatives or I've known them long enough to feel like their family."
"Doesn't that make it difficult to find a date?" Dean realized that there were only a few girls in the bar besides the bartender, and they were connected to the hip of the guy they came with.
"Shit, yeah. Sometimes I'll drive a town or two over and see what's going on there."
"Wow. That's gotta suck."
Luther nodded his agreement and enjoyed having someone new to talk to, even if he'd never see him again.
*****
Sam was lunched out, leaning against the headboard when Dean came home at closing time.
"Didn't know if I should expect you so soon."
"Played a game of pool. Talked to some locals."
"Win anything?"
"Duh," Dean gave Sam the look a teenager would have used. "Of course I won. I let the poor sucker they were hassling keep the winnings, though. It wasn't much and he was getting ragged on like you wouldn't believe. The worst one was his brother and that was just unacceptable. I had to make sure we kicked his ass."
"You're the whole world's big brother now? Is that like missionary work?"
"No, just when the situation calls for it." He stripped to his boxers and t-shirt before crossing the room to the sink. "What have you been up to?"
"Interviews and research gave me nothing. I'm tempted to say that its just stupid people getting themselves hurt and move on to the next job."
Sam was usually the one who had to stay behind just to make sure they'd rid places of what they were after. The idea of him being stumped and willing to give up so easy was odd.
"Have you found us another job?"
"Possible haunting. I'll check it out more tomorrow. No chicks fall for your charms tonight?"
"Slim pickings. I think every female besides the barkeep was married or engaged. Anyway, the tight hold their men had on them did nothing to encourage me to go make conversation."
"Smart move. Would have hated to have rescued you and embarrassed you in front of the few people you did meet."
"Whatever. Anyone call tonight?"
"Bobby had to remind us that we're idjits. He's the one that gave me the clue about the haunting. He's also the one who told me that he doesn't care for your drunk texting. He's a nice old guy, Dean. Don't tell him about some guy's hot ass."
"Damn," Dean laughed around his toothbrush and almost chocked before he spit. "I thought I was texting you! He sure got an earful tonight."
"You thought I should know about someone's ass?"
"Yeah. You don't go out much anymore. Anyone's ass would be fine. You could blow off some steam instead of shooting it out your ears when your computer fails to give you the information you want."
"That's just not me, Dean."
"I know." That was as close as Dean was giving to an apology. After all, it was Bobby who probably wanted to bleach his mind and avoid Dean's calls for the next month or so.
Before he fell asleep, Dean realized that in a crowd of strangers, he'd felt the camaraderie and acceptance. It was enough to soothe the need to be touched and cared for. On the nights that a simple trip to the bar didn't cover it, he could almost always find a willing woman to provide for him. The short, meaningless encounters had always been enough for Dean. He knew it was different for Sam.
After running from hunting, Sam got to be normal. He had a beautiful girl that he probably made love with every night. He did the ordinary domestic things like cooking, cleaning and having guests over. Anonymous sex was not going to fill Sam's need for some human touch. Joking around with guys or drinking with Bobby wasn't going to do it, either. Dean knew that Sam needed a stable, reliable relationship in order to be happy. If he could have found a way to get him one on the road, he already would have done so. Instead, he was watching the light fade from Sam's eyes as his insomnia worsened, weight that had never quite been enough for his stature was dropping and his laugh was heard less and less often. In a nutshell, Dean was very worried about his baby brother.
***
Living in close quarters made Dean and Sam learn more than they ever wanted to know about each other. Still, it could be useful sometimes. Like when Dean heard Sam in the shower making noises of frustration and pain instead of release. He wasn't purposely being a perv, his ears were just always tuned into Sam like they had been for years.
Dean didn't say anything to Sam when he heard it the first time, or even the third. He wanted to help Sam feel better or at least let him know that he was available if Sam ever needed to talk. As much as Dean hated touchy feely conversations, he loved his brother more.
Part of him felt guilty because he could find a gal, hook up and move on without a problem. When he came stumbling in just before sunrise, he would see a pinched look on Sam's face and know that he, once again, had struggled with his body and lost.
Maybe it was because of the pizza and beer. It could have been because the television was off since even the porn in their motel was hopeless. Whatever the case was, when Dean heard Sam in the bathroom once again, he couldn't just let it go. The problem clearly wasn't going away by itself. And, knowing Sam, he'd probably researched it to death and still wasn't able to get a handle on the situation.
***
Under the pounding hot water that was unusual for their class of motel, Sam had tears in his eyes. No matter how he varied his touch or tried the imaging that the website had suggested, he was no closer to coming than he'd been last week, the week before that, and so on.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the bathroom door open or the shower curtain move. The cool air hitting his backside was a surprise. He started to turn around, realized that he was still holding himself in his hand, and tuned back.
He exclaimed over his shoulder, "Holy shit, Dean! Don't you ever knock? I know you get real impatient but I haven't been in here that long."
Dean had left his clothes on the bed in the other room. He stepped closer to Sam and placed his hand on Sam's side.
"Get out and give me a minute!" Sam was getting riled. "I'll be out before you know it."
"I'm staying," Dean replied calmly. He slid his arm around Sam's waist, anticipating a struggle.
"This isn't funny, Dean." Sam tried to shrug him off.
"Just relax and let me help you." Dean used the same voice he'd use when Sam was really hurt or scared when he was younger. "I've heard you beating yourself up in here one time too many. You need to work off all that sexual frustration and when you don't do one nighters, Rosie Palm has to do all the work. It still won't happen unless you allow it to. And, you don't."
Sam's ears turned red. "This isn't funny, Dean. Just leave me alone."
"No. You're right. This isn't a laughing situation but I'm not going anywhere."
"Now you've just got more material to make my life hell."
"This isn't something I'm joking about. Now, try to just clear your mind. You're safe here and it's just you and me. The salt lines have been laid and the door is locked. No one can hear us. Take a deep breath and let it go."
When Sam blew the air out, Dean knocked his hand out of the way and took a hold of Sam himself. Sam startled but Dean didn't let go.
"It's just me, Sammy." He cradled Sam and gently moved his hand along Sam's shaft. "You've damn near stripped your skin off. Why didn't you say something?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Anything. I'm the one who taught you about the birds and bees after all. I doubt there's much you could say to surprise me."
Sam thought back to the conversations Dean was referring to. He had given Sam the sex talk even though Sam was sure Dean hadn't received one from their dad. He talked Sam down from his panic when he awoke one morning to find his sheets wet. He'd been so sure that he'd peed the bed until Dean carefully explained what had happened.
Next, he'd told Sam about masturbation so he could avoid some laundry mishaps in the future. He even stood up for Sam when John had walked in on his private time. John wanted to rant and rave because Sam was doing that when he was around. Dean had reminded John that they were always in cramped quarters and therefore needed to give each other some space from time to time. Dean had almost told John that they could hear him when he was in the shower a little longer than usual but decided that he'd like to keep breathing air.
Although no one locked the bathroom door, it was a matter of respect to leave someone to their own devices for awhile if they needed it. In the case of a head injury, when you needed immediate entry to vomit, the gagging would suffice as a warning of entry. They could easily forgive each other for the interruption with the sheer number of concussions they'd had as long as whoever was in there first was still behind the shower curtain or had a chance to jump back behind it before the interloper was through praying to the porcelain god.
Dean tentatively touched Sam as Sam's hands fell away and hung by the sides of his body. The logic had made sense and Sam wasn't going to fight it anymore. If Dean knew of a magic way to find release, Sam sure wanted to know about it.
"You need to let go of some tension. I know you've probably got this all built up as something you should feel guilty about, but it's not true. It's perfectly natural and has been happening since the beginning of time. Hell, someone had to figure it out and tell the other cavemen about what they'd discovered." Dean squirted some lube into his hand (he'd grabbed it on his way in) and coated Sam's red, angry member. "This isn't a race and it's not supposed to be. You should feel good. It will help you sleep better, too."
Sam's muscles relaxed just a little and Dean ducked his head to hide a small grin, glad that his plan was working. He floated his fingers over Sam's length, proud of the fact that he shivered with Dean's touch.
"That's it, Sammy. Let yourself get lost in the emotions you've tried too hard to forget. If something feels good, tell me. Same rules apply if you get uncomfortable. This is supposed to make you feel like you're floating in a cocoon a warmth."
He tuned into Dean's voice and it had the same effect on him as when he was little. It didn't matter what the words were, that quiet rumble assured him that it was all okay. Some of the worries on his mind as well as the weight on his shoulders disappeared.
Dean kept up long, soft strokes. As he felt Sam's body go almost limp in his grasp, he leaned Sam forward slightly at the waist and placed Sam's hands on the slick shower wall. "Just lean in," Dean instructed him. "I don't want you to slip. Your sasquatch ass is too damn heavy for me to be hoisting off the shower floor."
Before Sam could respond, he was swept away in the sensations Dean was causing as he massaged Sam at a leisurely pace. One thumb crept over the tip and fanned over it again and again. A couple fingers from the other hand caressed his scrotum and the nodules within. They slowly slipped behind to the smooth skin between Sam's balls and hole. Pressing a knuckle against the skin, he rubbed in tiny circles.
Sam moaned and lost his footing for a split second. His nails scrambled against the stall until he regained his grip.
"Easy there, Sammy," Dean whispered, thankful for his quick reflexes that helped him be able to keep Sam upright. "We're not done yet."
With his head hanging between his shoulders, Sam relaxed like his brother told him to. He tried to allow the sensations to flow over him.
Careful fingers crept backward until they followed the edge of Sam's rim. When it seemed like Sam was going to protest, Dean just hushed him and made sure the grip he had on him was firm. “Have you ever touched yourself here?“
Sam shook his head.
“Why not?” Dean was honestly confused.
Sam didn't answer.
When it no longer seemed like Sam was going to bolt, Dean ever so slowly circled his goal and then slipped the tip of his finger inside. Immediately, Sam's seed exploded at the touch. His body was wracked with tremors and spasms as the built up fluid escaped the confines of his nether regions.
When his touch was bringing more pain than pleasure, Dean removed his hands from Sam's sensitive areas and just wrapped him in a bear hug from behind.
"See, Sammy?" Dean's voice was breathy. "That's what I needed you to do. You did great, kiddo. Think you can make it back to bed before you pass out?"
A slow nod was the only response Dean received. He cleaned them both off by sluicing handfuls of water over the areas sticky with residue.
Sam allowed himself to be easily toweled off and tucked into bed. His eyes were droopy and for the first time in quite awhile, he didn't have a problem falling asleep. Any regrets or second thoughts about his actions would have to wait until morning.
*****
Dean kicked the door shut when he returned with their morning coffee and doughnuts from the convenience store down the street. “You up yet, Francis?” He took a sip of his way too hot coffee, hissed when it burned his tongue and set the cups and bags down on the rickety table. “You aiming to sleep the day away?”
Blinking his eyes to see through the stream of bright daylight working its way between the cheap curtains, Sam mumbled, “What time is it?”
“Late enough to have missed the breakfast specials, little too early for the McDonald’s down the street to be serving lunch. Only about twenty minutes until checkout.”
“Twenty? Why’d you let me sleep so late?” Sam jumped out of bed, realized that he was naked, and decided not worry about it while he grabbed the cleanest clothes he could find out of his bag.
“Let you? I don’t think letting you was part of the equation. I tried to wake you up twice and went to get the food without you. Figured if you weren’t inclined to come with, you could just eat whatever I picked out for you.”
Sam finished fastening his jeans and reached for his steaming cup of coffee. “Ugh!” He barely refrained from spitting it out. “Did you get any cream and sugar? You know I hate it black.”
“All out of your fancy additives, Sammy. Like I said, you would have had more say in our food and drink choices if you had actually gotten up. My bag is already packed and I gassed up the Impala. We’re just waiting on you.”
“Just give me a minute.”
“I’ll be waiting outside with the doughnuts. Don’t be too long or I’ll eat your share, too. Chop, chop!”
Dean was much too chipper as he went outdoors to wait and Sam drug himself into the bathroom.
It was only after Sam was throwing items in his shaving kit that he realized Dean wasn’t acting as if he remembered their actions from the night before at all. Either that meant that Dean actually didn’t remember, which would be great, or he was saving it until they were trapped in the car with no place to go. That would suck. Taking into account the usual way Dean woke him up, he was really leaning toward the first, but that could have just been wishful thinking.
One last glance around the bathroom and bedroom for any stray items, and Sam was out the door, happy to leave his confusion over the night before behind him.
***
Although he didn’t bring it up, Dean watched Sam carefully all day. A little bit of the tension was gone and he wasn’t as snappy. He knew it would only be a big blowup if he brought up Sam’s improved behavior, so he kept it to himself. Even though he had gone to sleep doubting if he’d done right by Sam, he was sure that he had when he saw a little bit of the old Sammy back in the man riding shotgun.
“How far of a drive is it to whatever suspicious event that we’re investigating?”
Sam thumbed through the atlas, made some rudimentary calculations, and replied, “Sometime tomorrow. In the morning if we drive right through, late afternoon if we stop to rest.”
“We can’t be conducting interviews looking like death warmed over. No one wants to talk to someone who is about to fall over from exhaustion.”
“Let’s see how the day goes,” Sam suggested, not knowing what they were getting into.
***
Rain pounded on the Impala, the echoes thundering inside the vehicle pulled to the side of the road. Dean had his left wrist resting on the steering wheel as he stared out into the sheets of water.
“Guess we know where we’re spending the night,” Sam commented.
“You think?” Dean’s sharp retort wasn’t unexpected. “I’d rather be at a motel since we have to stop anyhow. Why was it again that we couldn’t stop at the town a few exits back?”
“We’d have a better chance of getting a motel and fast food further down the road in a larger town.”
“And now we have no beds or food. Great.”
Sam couldn’t think of a way to talk himself out of the hole he’d dug for himself, so he kept quiet.
“At least tell me we still have the blankets in the backseat. Please say we didn’t trash them with a recent hunt and forget to wash them.”
Sam twisted in his seat. “I can see them in the back and they sorta look clean. Hard to tell with all the stains, Dean.”
“Well,” Dean sighed. “I don’t see us driving out of here anytime soon. Might as well get some shut eye.”
Dean took off his boots, left them on the floor and crawled over the back of the seat. “Not as roomy as when we were kids, but it will have to do.”
The leather creaked as Sam slouched lower in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position.
“What are you waiting for?” Dean asked.
“Huh?”
“Get your ass back here so I can get some sleep. We’ll be warmer and I won’t have to listen to you shuffle around the front seat.”
“Dean-”
“What? You’ve forgotten all the times we’ve slept back here? I haven’t. I think I can even remember how to get both of us to fit.”
Sam really, really didn't want to be in the back seat with Dean. “Are you sure? You can just give me a blanket.”
“Hell, yes, I’m sure. There’s no way I’m giving up a blanket when we only have two. Get your ass back here.”
The laces of Sam’s boots didn’t cooperate with him. They knotted up the instant Sam tried to get them off.
Finally, Sam won the battle over his boots but his heart was still pounding no matter how he tried to talk it into slowing down. He slid onto the empty spot and tried to fit himself in the space that was left. It was like a complicated game of Tetris.
They ended up with Sam sitting sideways on the backseat with one foot dangling over to the floor. He was reclined in the corner and Dean was sitting in front of him, leaning back.
Lightening. Crashing thunder. Awesome light display.
“You asleep?” Dean kept his voice quiet enough so he wouldn’t wake Sam up if he was actually sleeping.
Sam heard the question and decided to pretend that he was sound asleep. He thought he’d done a pretty good imitation until Dean commented, “Can’t fool me, Sammy. You’re awake. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you. How would I even do that? We’ve been stuck in the car no more than a couple feet away from each other all day.”
“I remember, you know. I think it helped.”
“Huh?”
“Last night? Shower? Ringing any bells here, Sammy?”
Even in the sporadic light, Dean could see Sam blush.
“Did I make it better or just create another elephant in the room. We gotta quit collecting those animals. We tiptoe around a zoo.”
He tried to speak carefully. “I, um-”
Dean waited patiently while Sam took a deep breath.
“I just haven’t been able to do that myself.”
“I know. Any idea why?”
“Just lonely,” was the only explanation he could come up with. How could he describe the loss he felt when he tried to be a sexual being alone and his body still remembered Jess so well.
“Lonely? Seems like that should make it easier. If you want it, you have more drive to achieve it.”
“Not when it’s all twisted.”
“Twisted how?” Dean was respecting Sam’s limits by not looking at him as he asked, but he still knew he was getting much further into Sam’s head than he was comfortable being.
“It’s like,” Sam paused to lick his lips. His whole mouth suddenly felt dry. “I know what I want to do. The sensations remind me of memories and it acts like a block.”
“Memories. You mean Jess?”
Sam didn’t have to answer. The increased tension in his body was enough.
“All these months you’ve been thinking that you’re cheating on her?”
“No. I just associate it with her. Well, my body does to be more exact. I try to picture anything else in my mind but apparently my sense of touch is stronger than my imagination.”
“You know you can’t cheat on a dead woman, right?”
“Yeah.”
Dean sat silent in thought for a minute or two. “Jess made you feel good, right? That’s what your sense memory is bringing up?”
“Of course she did.”
“Is it that you’ve tried the same techniques that she did and that possibly reminds you of her? Or have you gone back to how things were before her?”
“I was with her for so long, Dean. What I knew I liked became a part of what we liked together. There’s no way to separate out certain actions that are in no way connected to what we had.”
“Did she ever put her finger--I mean, you seemed jolted when I-”
Sam hurried to cut off Dean’s embarrassing rambling question. He knew what he was getting at. “Sometimes she was around there but never in.”
“Why not? If you don’t mind my asking. You seemed to appreciate the gesture--”
“We just didn’t, Dean. Compared to your life, we were boring in the bedroom. Happy and satisfied, just not kinky.”
“That counts as kinky? Wow. I have to reconsider my definition.”
“Don’t be like that. You don’t get to take away the intensity of our relationship because yours is different."
“Okay. Jess was a wonderful woman. I know that, I met her. I have no doubt that the two of you could have remained as a couple until the end of time. The problem is, she’s gone, and you still have the rest of your life. You have to think of another solution because you’re going to get an infection down there if you keep making it raw when you try to come.”
Swallowing, Sam asked, “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“I’m not sure, Sammy. We’ll think of something.”
Conversation apparently over, both boys were allowed to slip into slumber.
***
In the stillness of the car, Dean awoke to the sound of rain still battering his baby. “Christ,” he complained as he pulled the blanket up tighter. Unable to fall back to sleep right away, he thought about his conversation with Sam. Maybe the answer to the kid’s problem was to make new memories to dilute the strength of the ones with Jess. He couldn’t think of another person he trusted to get that close to Sam without hurting him. Instead, he assigned himself the duty of helping Sam move on. After all, he was his big brother and would die for him in a heartbeat. Keeping that in mind, it didn’t seem like such a big deal if he helped Sam find pleasure.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he rolled a little to the side so that he’d have access to Sam. Unsure of how to continue what he’d started in the shower, he rested his hand on the bulge in Sam’s pants. He didn’t really do anything, just let the weight of his hand sit there.
Sam didn’t wake up and his breathing didn’t change.
Encouraged, Dean moved his hand to open the button on Sam’s jeans. Still, no response from Sam. The snicks as he unzipped Sam’s jeans seemed too loud to Dean. Sam didn’t seem to hear them at all.
After making sure Sam was covered up by the blanket, Dean slid his hand into the open vee of the material. He couldn’t see his hand so he went by feel. It was an awkward angle, but he figured it out.
Sam’s whole body jumped when Dean touched his naked flesh. He let out a startled, “What?”
“Rest back again,” Dean pushed on Sam’s chest until he was once again leaned up against the corner. “Just work with me here.”
“What are you doing?”
“I have an idea.” Dean paused and decided not to share his plan with Sam. “Do you trust me?”
“Huh?”
“Do. You. Trust. Me. Shouldn’t require too much thought to answer that, Sam.”
“You know I do.”
Dean looked directly into Sam’s eyes as he responded, “Then trust me on this.”
Confused, Sam nodded. He’d always trusted Dean and he hoped Dean returned that feeling.
When Dean’s hand rubbed against him, Sam remembered what had woke him up. He started to say something but was interrupted.
“You said you trusted me. That’s what you have to do.”
Sam could see into the depths of Dean’s eyes and slouched back to the position he’d been sleeping in. Dean locked his eyes with Sam’s before he moved his hand again. Sam’s eyes went wide and Dean could tell it was a struggle for Sam to just allow it to happen.
Keeping constant eye contact, Dean moved and Sam grew more and more aroused even though Dean could see him warring with embarrassment at the time. Slow and steady, he continued until Sam was distracted and he could start to slip his clothing off his bottom half.
“Dean!” Sam snapped out of the pleasant fog he’d been in.
“Lift up. That’s all. The blanket’s not going anywhere. It’s just us, remember?”
Sam took a deep breath, lifted his hips for a moment and was strangely turned on by having his naked backside on the Impala’s seat.
“Scoot down.”
Dean was surprised he’d been able to get Sam to comply so easily. He hated that he had to pull emotional blackmail with the whole trust concept, but it was for Sam’s own good. Dean moved so he was sitting with one of Sam’s legs behind his back and the other flopped across his lap. He licked his hand to get it as wet as possible before returning to tease Sam.
“Don’t close your eyes.” Dean said. “Look at me. It’s just you and me.”
Panting, Sam struggled to keep his eyes open and lie still instead of writhing on the backseat. Dean kept a litany of reassurances falling from his lips. Sam’s eyes were aimed toward Dean but they had long since fogged over with the need and want thrumming through his body.
Dean ran the fingers of his free hand through the liquid that Sam was leaking. He ran one finger around the tip until it was plenty moist before touching Sam’s hole. He circled it and toyed with the rim, teasing Sam until he groaned with frustration.
“I’ve got you, Sammy. Just a little while longer.”
He crept his finger inside and crooked it to find the bundle he was looking for.
Sam would have hit the roof of the Impala if not for Dean pinning him to the seat. His mouth was open, gasping for breath.
“Is that good, Sam?” Dean asked as he brushed past the spot once more.
Sweat glistened on Sam’s face as he grew flushed. The only word he could think of and form with his limited number of functioning brain cells was ‘more’.
With one hand pumping and the other swiping his sensitive spot inside, Sam nearly bucked Dean off the seat as his impending ejaculation came closer. Dean concentrated on Sam’s eyes, knowing that he needed to keep that contact with him if he was even going to approach the connection that Sam and Jess had.
Growling with frustration, Sam’s eyes pled with Dean to make it happen. A couple well-placed stokes and Sam yelled with his release. As he came down, he wondered about the morality of what had gone on. He decided that God had turned his back on them a long time ago. Whatever they needed to deal with, the pair of them were strictly on their own. With his mind at ease, he drifted back to sleep.
Dean watched Sam until he was snoring. He took a corner of the blanket to wipe up and settled back into his original position of resting against Sam. He didn’t bother with putting Little Sammy away, thinking that Sam might take the initiative to go at it on his own.
***
The birds chirping seemed loud until Sam realized that he was in the Impala and not a motel. Dean’s face was resting at an angle where Sam couldn’t see it. He felt the dampness between his thighs and it did nothing to make his morning wood go away. It only made it worse.
He reached down to try to adjust and maybe cover up some more when Dean grabbed his wrist to stop him. He laced his fingers with Sam’s and guided them over Sam’s lap, exciting Sam all the more.
“It’s light out,” Sam tried to think of an excuse.
“We’ve got the blanket.”
“There could be people outside.”
Dean popped his head up to peek at their surroundings. “Nope. Still pulled off to the side of a road that doesn’t look like it’s used on a regular basis. We’re safe.”
Sam wanted to think of another reason but was unable to with the majority of his blood headed south. “Dean,” Sam wiggled his fingers free as a new thought struck him. He reached for Dean’s jeans and looked into his eyes, asking for permission. A barely there nod was all he needed before getting Dean to a similar state of undress.
Although he hadn’t figured on Sam returning the favor, Dean was not opposed to the idea. He quickly got back into the game as their moans filled the car.
That morning, on an old abandoned road, was the start of a new chapter in the lives of Sam and Dean. It was a turning point and neither of them wanted to go back.
Characters: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: 18 - sluice
Warnings: slash, incest, masturbation, first time
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Summary: Dean helps Sam with a personal problem.
Dean sat at the bar staring at his beer. A ring had already begun to form on the wooden surface from the condensation. He was wearing his leather jacket and enjoying the juke box. Apparently, the owner shared Dean's love of mullet rock. It was the best way to come down after a stressful day of interviewing and researching. Well, almost the best way.
The bartender had long, wavy brown hair. She'd stopped to flirt with Dean when business was slow. Dean turned on the charm like usual. It had just become habit with him. He never meant anything by it and if his actions caused him to have company that evening, well, it wasn't his fault. He didn't need to feel a connection to anyone. Just being surrounded by folks in an easy environment made him content with his life.
He smiled at the bartender after he realized she'd been speaking to him and he hadn't heard a word. He didn't want to seem impolite.
A pool table caught his attention when the argument over who had to take the newbie on their side grew in volume. He moved from resting his feet on the legs of the barstool to standing. His beer was half-gone and going warm, but he brought it with him anyway.
The four men at the pool table argued.
"No way. I can't get stuck with Luther. I had him last time."
"Maybe, but he is your relation. If anyone should have to suffer for his crappy pool playing it should be you."
"You're related to him, too!"
"By marriage don't count. I have no control over my sister marrying an idiot."
Dean lifted an eyebrow and tried not to laugh out loud at the dysfunctional extended family before him.
"Just take him! You put him with me and I'm quitting." The unfortunate closest relative to the man in question pouted. Neither of the other men were going to give on their stance.
Feeling like this was a pretty regular occurrence for the poor guy who hadn't said a word in his own defense, Dean stepped in.
"I'll play pairs with the loner here." Stunned faces turned to him. "We playing for money?"
"You don't know Luther. You definitely don't want any money involved if you're counting on him. Just some friendly advice, stranger."
"Dean, my name's Dean." He pulled out his wallet. "I'm actually a pretty good player. I'd like to a friendly wager. Say, twenty bucks?"
"If you insist," the guy with Luther for a brother-in-law laid his bills down by Dean's. "You must be a glutton for punishment."
"Just a little bored on my way through. Oh, if we win . . . What am I saying? When we win, the pouting asshole over there will help Luther learn pool instead of treating him like shit. Sound about fair, Luther?"
The small man next to Dean smiled. "Yeah, Davy! You can't make fun of me anymore!"
"I'll find something besides your pool skills," grumpy replied. "My mind is swamped with all the other things that are wrong with you," his voice was a little quieter but made sure to carry over to Luther.
"That your big brother over there spouting shit?" Dean asked Luther. He got a nod in reply. "I'm a fantastic pool player. Not only are we going to beat their asses, I'll give you some secrets of the trade to help you out later on your own. How's that sound?"
"Why are you helping me?"
Looking at the scrawny guy who still had to grow into his oversized limbs, he just chuckled, "You remind me of my brother. There's no way I would have talked crap like that to him and you don't deserve it either. Keep your eyes on the balls and concentrate on what we're doing. Those jerks will be buying you beers before the night is over."
Dean was very careful not to pull any special tricks on the table. He played an honest game of good pool and Luther soaked in everything Dean taught him. Damn kid was like a sponge and had made a hell of an improvement before their game was over.
"Looks like you won," Davy was drunk and mean. "Beginner's luck, man. You'll never be able to do that again."
"I sure know more than you ever showed me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna buy my new friend here a drink."
Luther made to pay for the alcohol with the winnings, but Dean refused. "Keep it. You did good. Celebratory drinks are on me."
They weren't riding high on the hog, but Dean hadn't needed to hustle anyone. He'd just wanted to relax with a game and making Luther feel a little better was just a bonus.
"So why are you here with those jerks?"
"Small town. Folks here either are my relatives or I've known them long enough to feel like their family."
"Doesn't that make it difficult to find a date?" Dean realized that there were only a few girls in the bar besides the bartender, and they were connected to the hip of the guy they came with.
"Shit, yeah. Sometimes I'll drive a town or two over and see what's going on there."
"Wow. That's gotta suck."
Luther nodded his agreement and enjoyed having someone new to talk to, even if he'd never see him again.
*****
Sam was lunched out, leaning against the headboard when Dean came home at closing time.
"Didn't know if I should expect you so soon."
"Played a game of pool. Talked to some locals."
"Win anything?"
"Duh," Dean gave Sam the look a teenager would have used. "Of course I won. I let the poor sucker they were hassling keep the winnings, though. It wasn't much and he was getting ragged on like you wouldn't believe. The worst one was his brother and that was just unacceptable. I had to make sure we kicked his ass."
"You're the whole world's big brother now? Is that like missionary work?"
"No, just when the situation calls for it." He stripped to his boxers and t-shirt before crossing the room to the sink. "What have you been up to?"
"Interviews and research gave me nothing. I'm tempted to say that its just stupid people getting themselves hurt and move on to the next job."
Sam was usually the one who had to stay behind just to make sure they'd rid places of what they were after. The idea of him being stumped and willing to give up so easy was odd.
"Have you found us another job?"
"Possible haunting. I'll check it out more tomorrow. No chicks fall for your charms tonight?"
"Slim pickings. I think every female besides the barkeep was married or engaged. Anyway, the tight hold their men had on them did nothing to encourage me to go make conversation."
"Smart move. Would have hated to have rescued you and embarrassed you in front of the few people you did meet."
"Whatever. Anyone call tonight?"
"Bobby had to remind us that we're idjits. He's the one that gave me the clue about the haunting. He's also the one who told me that he doesn't care for your drunk texting. He's a nice old guy, Dean. Don't tell him about some guy's hot ass."
"Damn," Dean laughed around his toothbrush and almost chocked before he spit. "I thought I was texting you! He sure got an earful tonight."
"You thought I should know about someone's ass?"
"Yeah. You don't go out much anymore. Anyone's ass would be fine. You could blow off some steam instead of shooting it out your ears when your computer fails to give you the information you want."
"That's just not me, Dean."
"I know." That was as close as Dean was giving to an apology. After all, it was Bobby who probably wanted to bleach his mind and avoid Dean's calls for the next month or so.
Before he fell asleep, Dean realized that in a crowd of strangers, he'd felt the camaraderie and acceptance. It was enough to soothe the need to be touched and cared for. On the nights that a simple trip to the bar didn't cover it, he could almost always find a willing woman to provide for him. The short, meaningless encounters had always been enough for Dean. He knew it was different for Sam.
After running from hunting, Sam got to be normal. He had a beautiful girl that he probably made love with every night. He did the ordinary domestic things like cooking, cleaning and having guests over. Anonymous sex was not going to fill Sam's need for some human touch. Joking around with guys or drinking with Bobby wasn't going to do it, either. Dean knew that Sam needed a stable, reliable relationship in order to be happy. If he could have found a way to get him one on the road, he already would have done so. Instead, he was watching the light fade from Sam's eyes as his insomnia worsened, weight that had never quite been enough for his stature was dropping and his laugh was heard less and less often. In a nutshell, Dean was very worried about his baby brother.
***
Living in close quarters made Dean and Sam learn more than they ever wanted to know about each other. Still, it could be useful sometimes. Like when Dean heard Sam in the shower making noises of frustration and pain instead of release. He wasn't purposely being a perv, his ears were just always tuned into Sam like they had been for years.
Dean didn't say anything to Sam when he heard it the first time, or even the third. He wanted to help Sam feel better or at least let him know that he was available if Sam ever needed to talk. As much as Dean hated touchy feely conversations, he loved his brother more.
Part of him felt guilty because he could find a gal, hook up and move on without a problem. When he came stumbling in just before sunrise, he would see a pinched look on Sam's face and know that he, once again, had struggled with his body and lost.
Maybe it was because of the pizza and beer. It could have been because the television was off since even the porn in their motel was hopeless. Whatever the case was, when Dean heard Sam in the bathroom once again, he couldn't just let it go. The problem clearly wasn't going away by itself. And, knowing Sam, he'd probably researched it to death and still wasn't able to get a handle on the situation.
***
Under the pounding hot water that was unusual for their class of motel, Sam had tears in his eyes. No matter how he varied his touch or tried the imaging that the website had suggested, he was no closer to coming than he'd been last week, the week before that, and so on.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the bathroom door open or the shower curtain move. The cool air hitting his backside was a surprise. He started to turn around, realized that he was still holding himself in his hand, and tuned back.
He exclaimed over his shoulder, "Holy shit, Dean! Don't you ever knock? I know you get real impatient but I haven't been in here that long."
Dean had left his clothes on the bed in the other room. He stepped closer to Sam and placed his hand on Sam's side.
"Get out and give me a minute!" Sam was getting riled. "I'll be out before you know it."
"I'm staying," Dean replied calmly. He slid his arm around Sam's waist, anticipating a struggle.
"This isn't funny, Dean." Sam tried to shrug him off.
"Just relax and let me help you." Dean used the same voice he'd use when Sam was really hurt or scared when he was younger. "I've heard you beating yourself up in here one time too many. You need to work off all that sexual frustration and when you don't do one nighters, Rosie Palm has to do all the work. It still won't happen unless you allow it to. And, you don't."
Sam's ears turned red. "This isn't funny, Dean. Just leave me alone."
"No. You're right. This isn't a laughing situation but I'm not going anywhere."
"Now you've just got more material to make my life hell."
"This isn't something I'm joking about. Now, try to just clear your mind. You're safe here and it's just you and me. The salt lines have been laid and the door is locked. No one can hear us. Take a deep breath and let it go."
When Sam blew the air out, Dean knocked his hand out of the way and took a hold of Sam himself. Sam startled but Dean didn't let go.
"It's just me, Sammy." He cradled Sam and gently moved his hand along Sam's shaft. "You've damn near stripped your skin off. Why didn't you say something?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Anything. I'm the one who taught you about the birds and bees after all. I doubt there's much you could say to surprise me."
Sam thought back to the conversations Dean was referring to. He had given Sam the sex talk even though Sam was sure Dean hadn't received one from their dad. He talked Sam down from his panic when he awoke one morning to find his sheets wet. He'd been so sure that he'd peed the bed until Dean carefully explained what had happened.
Next, he'd told Sam about masturbation so he could avoid some laundry mishaps in the future. He even stood up for Sam when John had walked in on his private time. John wanted to rant and rave because Sam was doing that when he was around. Dean had reminded John that they were always in cramped quarters and therefore needed to give each other some space from time to time. Dean had almost told John that they could hear him when he was in the shower a little longer than usual but decided that he'd like to keep breathing air.
Although no one locked the bathroom door, it was a matter of respect to leave someone to their own devices for awhile if they needed it. In the case of a head injury, when you needed immediate entry to vomit, the gagging would suffice as a warning of entry. They could easily forgive each other for the interruption with the sheer number of concussions they'd had as long as whoever was in there first was still behind the shower curtain or had a chance to jump back behind it before the interloper was through praying to the porcelain god.
Dean tentatively touched Sam as Sam's hands fell away and hung by the sides of his body. The logic had made sense and Sam wasn't going to fight it anymore. If Dean knew of a magic way to find release, Sam sure wanted to know about it.
"You need to let go of some tension. I know you've probably got this all built up as something you should feel guilty about, but it's not true. It's perfectly natural and has been happening since the beginning of time. Hell, someone had to figure it out and tell the other cavemen about what they'd discovered." Dean squirted some lube into his hand (he'd grabbed it on his way in) and coated Sam's red, angry member. "This isn't a race and it's not supposed to be. You should feel good. It will help you sleep better, too."
Sam's muscles relaxed just a little and Dean ducked his head to hide a small grin, glad that his plan was working. He floated his fingers over Sam's length, proud of the fact that he shivered with Dean's touch.
"That's it, Sammy. Let yourself get lost in the emotions you've tried too hard to forget. If something feels good, tell me. Same rules apply if you get uncomfortable. This is supposed to make you feel like you're floating in a cocoon a warmth."
He tuned into Dean's voice and it had the same effect on him as when he was little. It didn't matter what the words were, that quiet rumble assured him that it was all okay. Some of the worries on his mind as well as the weight on his shoulders disappeared.
Dean kept up long, soft strokes. As he felt Sam's body go almost limp in his grasp, he leaned Sam forward slightly at the waist and placed Sam's hands on the slick shower wall. "Just lean in," Dean instructed him. "I don't want you to slip. Your sasquatch ass is too damn heavy for me to be hoisting off the shower floor."
Before Sam could respond, he was swept away in the sensations Dean was causing as he massaged Sam at a leisurely pace. One thumb crept over the tip and fanned over it again and again. A couple fingers from the other hand caressed his scrotum and the nodules within. They slowly slipped behind to the smooth skin between Sam's balls and hole. Pressing a knuckle against the skin, he rubbed in tiny circles.
Sam moaned and lost his footing for a split second. His nails scrambled against the stall until he regained his grip.
"Easy there, Sammy," Dean whispered, thankful for his quick reflexes that helped him be able to keep Sam upright. "We're not done yet."
With his head hanging between his shoulders, Sam relaxed like his brother told him to. He tried to allow the sensations to flow over him.
Careful fingers crept backward until they followed the edge of Sam's rim. When it seemed like Sam was going to protest, Dean just hushed him and made sure the grip he had on him was firm. “Have you ever touched yourself here?“
Sam shook his head.
“Why not?” Dean was honestly confused.
Sam didn't answer.
When it no longer seemed like Sam was going to bolt, Dean ever so slowly circled his goal and then slipped the tip of his finger inside. Immediately, Sam's seed exploded at the touch. His body was wracked with tremors and spasms as the built up fluid escaped the confines of his nether regions.
When his touch was bringing more pain than pleasure, Dean removed his hands from Sam's sensitive areas and just wrapped him in a bear hug from behind.
"See, Sammy?" Dean's voice was breathy. "That's what I needed you to do. You did great, kiddo. Think you can make it back to bed before you pass out?"
A slow nod was the only response Dean received. He cleaned them both off by sluicing handfuls of water over the areas sticky with residue.
Sam allowed himself to be easily toweled off and tucked into bed. His eyes were droopy and for the first time in quite awhile, he didn't have a problem falling asleep. Any regrets or second thoughts about his actions would have to wait until morning.
*****
Dean kicked the door shut when he returned with their morning coffee and doughnuts from the convenience store down the street. “You up yet, Francis?” He took a sip of his way too hot coffee, hissed when it burned his tongue and set the cups and bags down on the rickety table. “You aiming to sleep the day away?”
Blinking his eyes to see through the stream of bright daylight working its way between the cheap curtains, Sam mumbled, “What time is it?”
“Late enough to have missed the breakfast specials, little too early for the McDonald’s down the street to be serving lunch. Only about twenty minutes until checkout.”
“Twenty? Why’d you let me sleep so late?” Sam jumped out of bed, realized that he was naked, and decided not worry about it while he grabbed the cleanest clothes he could find out of his bag.
“Let you? I don’t think letting you was part of the equation. I tried to wake you up twice and went to get the food without you. Figured if you weren’t inclined to come with, you could just eat whatever I picked out for you.”
Sam finished fastening his jeans and reached for his steaming cup of coffee. “Ugh!” He barely refrained from spitting it out. “Did you get any cream and sugar? You know I hate it black.”
“All out of your fancy additives, Sammy. Like I said, you would have had more say in our food and drink choices if you had actually gotten up. My bag is already packed and I gassed up the Impala. We’re just waiting on you.”
“Just give me a minute.”
“I’ll be waiting outside with the doughnuts. Don’t be too long or I’ll eat your share, too. Chop, chop!”
Dean was much too chipper as he went outdoors to wait and Sam drug himself into the bathroom.
It was only after Sam was throwing items in his shaving kit that he realized Dean wasn’t acting as if he remembered their actions from the night before at all. Either that meant that Dean actually didn’t remember, which would be great, or he was saving it until they were trapped in the car with no place to go. That would suck. Taking into account the usual way Dean woke him up, he was really leaning toward the first, but that could have just been wishful thinking.
One last glance around the bathroom and bedroom for any stray items, and Sam was out the door, happy to leave his confusion over the night before behind him.
***
Although he didn’t bring it up, Dean watched Sam carefully all day. A little bit of the tension was gone and he wasn’t as snappy. He knew it would only be a big blowup if he brought up Sam’s improved behavior, so he kept it to himself. Even though he had gone to sleep doubting if he’d done right by Sam, he was sure that he had when he saw a little bit of the old Sammy back in the man riding shotgun.
“How far of a drive is it to whatever suspicious event that we’re investigating?”
Sam thumbed through the atlas, made some rudimentary calculations, and replied, “Sometime tomorrow. In the morning if we drive right through, late afternoon if we stop to rest.”
“We can’t be conducting interviews looking like death warmed over. No one wants to talk to someone who is about to fall over from exhaustion.”
“Let’s see how the day goes,” Sam suggested, not knowing what they were getting into.
***
Rain pounded on the Impala, the echoes thundering inside the vehicle pulled to the side of the road. Dean had his left wrist resting on the steering wheel as he stared out into the sheets of water.
“Guess we know where we’re spending the night,” Sam commented.
“You think?” Dean’s sharp retort wasn’t unexpected. “I’d rather be at a motel since we have to stop anyhow. Why was it again that we couldn’t stop at the town a few exits back?”
“We’d have a better chance of getting a motel and fast food further down the road in a larger town.”
“And now we have no beds or food. Great.”
Sam couldn’t think of a way to talk himself out of the hole he’d dug for himself, so he kept quiet.
“At least tell me we still have the blankets in the backseat. Please say we didn’t trash them with a recent hunt and forget to wash them.”
Sam twisted in his seat. “I can see them in the back and they sorta look clean. Hard to tell with all the stains, Dean.”
“Well,” Dean sighed. “I don’t see us driving out of here anytime soon. Might as well get some shut eye.”
Dean took off his boots, left them on the floor and crawled over the back of the seat. “Not as roomy as when we were kids, but it will have to do.”
The leather creaked as Sam slouched lower in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position.
“What are you waiting for?” Dean asked.
“Huh?”
“Get your ass back here so I can get some sleep. We’ll be warmer and I won’t have to listen to you shuffle around the front seat.”
“Dean-”
“What? You’ve forgotten all the times we’ve slept back here? I haven’t. I think I can even remember how to get both of us to fit.”
Sam really, really didn't want to be in the back seat with Dean. “Are you sure? You can just give me a blanket.”
“Hell, yes, I’m sure. There’s no way I’m giving up a blanket when we only have two. Get your ass back here.”
The laces of Sam’s boots didn’t cooperate with him. They knotted up the instant Sam tried to get them off.
Finally, Sam won the battle over his boots but his heart was still pounding no matter how he tried to talk it into slowing down. He slid onto the empty spot and tried to fit himself in the space that was left. It was like a complicated game of Tetris.
They ended up with Sam sitting sideways on the backseat with one foot dangling over to the floor. He was reclined in the corner and Dean was sitting in front of him, leaning back.
Lightening. Crashing thunder. Awesome light display.
“You asleep?” Dean kept his voice quiet enough so he wouldn’t wake Sam up if he was actually sleeping.
Sam heard the question and decided to pretend that he was sound asleep. He thought he’d done a pretty good imitation until Dean commented, “Can’t fool me, Sammy. You’re awake. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you. How would I even do that? We’ve been stuck in the car no more than a couple feet away from each other all day.”
“I remember, you know. I think it helped.”
“Huh?”
“Last night? Shower? Ringing any bells here, Sammy?”
Even in the sporadic light, Dean could see Sam blush.
“Did I make it better or just create another elephant in the room. We gotta quit collecting those animals. We tiptoe around a zoo.”
He tried to speak carefully. “I, um-”
Dean waited patiently while Sam took a deep breath.
“I just haven’t been able to do that myself.”
“I know. Any idea why?”
“Just lonely,” was the only explanation he could come up with. How could he describe the loss he felt when he tried to be a sexual being alone and his body still remembered Jess so well.
“Lonely? Seems like that should make it easier. If you want it, you have more drive to achieve it.”
“Not when it’s all twisted.”
“Twisted how?” Dean was respecting Sam’s limits by not looking at him as he asked, but he still knew he was getting much further into Sam’s head than he was comfortable being.
“It’s like,” Sam paused to lick his lips. His whole mouth suddenly felt dry. “I know what I want to do. The sensations remind me of memories and it acts like a block.”
“Memories. You mean Jess?”
Sam didn’t have to answer. The increased tension in his body was enough.
“All these months you’ve been thinking that you’re cheating on her?”
“No. I just associate it with her. Well, my body does to be more exact. I try to picture anything else in my mind but apparently my sense of touch is stronger than my imagination.”
“You know you can’t cheat on a dead woman, right?”
“Yeah.”
Dean sat silent in thought for a minute or two. “Jess made you feel good, right? That’s what your sense memory is bringing up?”
“Of course she did.”
“Is it that you’ve tried the same techniques that she did and that possibly reminds you of her? Or have you gone back to how things were before her?”
“I was with her for so long, Dean. What I knew I liked became a part of what we liked together. There’s no way to separate out certain actions that are in no way connected to what we had.”
“Did she ever put her finger--I mean, you seemed jolted when I-”
Sam hurried to cut off Dean’s embarrassing rambling question. He knew what he was getting at. “Sometimes she was around there but never in.”
“Why not? If you don’t mind my asking. You seemed to appreciate the gesture--”
“We just didn’t, Dean. Compared to your life, we were boring in the bedroom. Happy and satisfied, just not kinky.”
“That counts as kinky? Wow. I have to reconsider my definition.”
“Don’t be like that. You don’t get to take away the intensity of our relationship because yours is different."
“Okay. Jess was a wonderful woman. I know that, I met her. I have no doubt that the two of you could have remained as a couple until the end of time. The problem is, she’s gone, and you still have the rest of your life. You have to think of another solution because you’re going to get an infection down there if you keep making it raw when you try to come.”
Swallowing, Sam asked, “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“I’m not sure, Sammy. We’ll think of something.”
Conversation apparently over, both boys were allowed to slip into slumber.
***
In the stillness of the car, Dean awoke to the sound of rain still battering his baby. “Christ,” he complained as he pulled the blanket up tighter. Unable to fall back to sleep right away, he thought about his conversation with Sam. Maybe the answer to the kid’s problem was to make new memories to dilute the strength of the ones with Jess. He couldn’t think of another person he trusted to get that close to Sam without hurting him. Instead, he assigned himself the duty of helping Sam move on. After all, he was his big brother and would die for him in a heartbeat. Keeping that in mind, it didn’t seem like such a big deal if he helped Sam find pleasure.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he rolled a little to the side so that he’d have access to Sam. Unsure of how to continue what he’d started in the shower, he rested his hand on the bulge in Sam’s pants. He didn’t really do anything, just let the weight of his hand sit there.
Sam didn’t wake up and his breathing didn’t change.
Encouraged, Dean moved his hand to open the button on Sam’s jeans. Still, no response from Sam. The snicks as he unzipped Sam’s jeans seemed too loud to Dean. Sam didn’t seem to hear them at all.
After making sure Sam was covered up by the blanket, Dean slid his hand into the open vee of the material. He couldn’t see his hand so he went by feel. It was an awkward angle, but he figured it out.
Sam’s whole body jumped when Dean touched his naked flesh. He let out a startled, “What?”
“Rest back again,” Dean pushed on Sam’s chest until he was once again leaned up against the corner. “Just work with me here.”
“What are you doing?”
“I have an idea.” Dean paused and decided not to share his plan with Sam. “Do you trust me?”
“Huh?”
“Do. You. Trust. Me. Shouldn’t require too much thought to answer that, Sam.”
“You know I do.”
Dean looked directly into Sam’s eyes as he responded, “Then trust me on this.”
Confused, Sam nodded. He’d always trusted Dean and he hoped Dean returned that feeling.
When Dean’s hand rubbed against him, Sam remembered what had woke him up. He started to say something but was interrupted.
“You said you trusted me. That’s what you have to do.”
Sam could see into the depths of Dean’s eyes and slouched back to the position he’d been sleeping in. Dean locked his eyes with Sam’s before he moved his hand again. Sam’s eyes went wide and Dean could tell it was a struggle for Sam to just allow it to happen.
Keeping constant eye contact, Dean moved and Sam grew more and more aroused even though Dean could see him warring with embarrassment at the time. Slow and steady, he continued until Sam was distracted and he could start to slip his clothing off his bottom half.
“Dean!” Sam snapped out of the pleasant fog he’d been in.
“Lift up. That’s all. The blanket’s not going anywhere. It’s just us, remember?”
Sam took a deep breath, lifted his hips for a moment and was strangely turned on by having his naked backside on the Impala’s seat.
“Scoot down.”
Dean was surprised he’d been able to get Sam to comply so easily. He hated that he had to pull emotional blackmail with the whole trust concept, but it was for Sam’s own good. Dean moved so he was sitting with one of Sam’s legs behind his back and the other flopped across his lap. He licked his hand to get it as wet as possible before returning to tease Sam.
“Don’t close your eyes.” Dean said. “Look at me. It’s just you and me.”
Panting, Sam struggled to keep his eyes open and lie still instead of writhing on the backseat. Dean kept a litany of reassurances falling from his lips. Sam’s eyes were aimed toward Dean but they had long since fogged over with the need and want thrumming through his body.
Dean ran the fingers of his free hand through the liquid that Sam was leaking. He ran one finger around the tip until it was plenty moist before touching Sam’s hole. He circled it and toyed with the rim, teasing Sam until he groaned with frustration.
“I’ve got you, Sammy. Just a little while longer.”
He crept his finger inside and crooked it to find the bundle he was looking for.
Sam would have hit the roof of the Impala if not for Dean pinning him to the seat. His mouth was open, gasping for breath.
“Is that good, Sam?” Dean asked as he brushed past the spot once more.
Sweat glistened on Sam’s face as he grew flushed. The only word he could think of and form with his limited number of functioning brain cells was ‘more’.
With one hand pumping and the other swiping his sensitive spot inside, Sam nearly bucked Dean off the seat as his impending ejaculation came closer. Dean concentrated on Sam’s eyes, knowing that he needed to keep that contact with him if he was even going to approach the connection that Sam and Jess had.
Growling with frustration, Sam’s eyes pled with Dean to make it happen. A couple well-placed stokes and Sam yelled with his release. As he came down, he wondered about the morality of what had gone on. He decided that God had turned his back on them a long time ago. Whatever they needed to deal with, the pair of them were strictly on their own. With his mind at ease, he drifted back to sleep.
Dean watched Sam until he was snoring. He took a corner of the blanket to wipe up and settled back into his original position of resting against Sam. He didn’t bother with putting Little Sammy away, thinking that Sam might take the initiative to go at it on his own.
***
The birds chirping seemed loud until Sam realized that he was in the Impala and not a motel. Dean’s face was resting at an angle where Sam couldn’t see it. He felt the dampness between his thighs and it did nothing to make his morning wood go away. It only made it worse.
He reached down to try to adjust and maybe cover up some more when Dean grabbed his wrist to stop him. He laced his fingers with Sam’s and guided them over Sam’s lap, exciting Sam all the more.
“It’s light out,” Sam tried to think of an excuse.
“We’ve got the blanket.”
“There could be people outside.”
Dean popped his head up to peek at their surroundings. “Nope. Still pulled off to the side of a road that doesn’t look like it’s used on a regular basis. We’re safe.”
Sam wanted to think of another reason but was unable to with the majority of his blood headed south. “Dean,” Sam wiggled his fingers free as a new thought struck him. He reached for Dean’s jeans and looked into his eyes, asking for permission. A barely there nod was all he needed before getting Dean to a similar state of undress.
Although he hadn’t figured on Sam returning the favor, Dean was not opposed to the idea. He quickly got back into the game as their moans filled the car.
That morning, on an old abandoned road, was the start of a new chapter in the lives of Sam and Dean. It was a turning point and neither of them wanted to go back.