Baby Boy

[hunters_retreat]

Title: Baby Boy
Author: Hunters_Retreat
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: Sam can be cruel sometimes but when he realizes why, he decides to make it all right again.


Baby Boy

“Oh god Baby Boy…”

Sam froze at the words, trying not to hear them, trying not to let the image come to mind, but Dean looked into his face too quickly and saw exactly what he’d done. His hands came up to support Sam, but the look of terror was still there, acknowledging the blunder without putting another word to it. Or maybe Dean was just afraid if he opened his mouth again there would be another Baby Boy thrown in.

Sam wanted to hit something and the pain made him cranky enough without Dean’s slips.  Dean managed to get him into the car with Sam doing nothing to make it easier. It might hurt but it was easier to deal with that than the other issue Dean had just thrust on him.

It didn’t take long to get back to the motel but Sam was bleeding pretty bad and he barely kept his tongue in check, swearing every bump and twist but managing not to attach Dean’s name to it, which in his current position he figured was a miracle.

He was set on the bed and handed a bottle of Jack before anything else happened and he took a good long pull on the bottle to get the process started right. He knew he needed stitches in a couple of places and he was likely to be black and blue from his right foot all the way up to his fingertips. He’d be lucky if it didn’t stretch across half his chest. If he didn’t pass out tonight, he doubted he’d sleep with all that pain. He took another long pull, hoping enough would just knock him out.

Knock him out before Baby Boy started to hit again.

“Come on Sammy, need to see it to work on it.”

Dean’s hands were pulling at his clothes, his jacket was tossed aside and Dean unbuttoned his shirt after Sam’s clumsy attempts had amounted to nothing. His tee shirt was sticking to the wound though and Dean swore up a streak before leaving Sam for a minute to start the shower.

“Just get in enough to strip those clothes off Sam.”

“Looking to get lucky tonight Dean?” Sam asked, pissed and drunk and not at all stable as he lurched towards the bathroom.

He didn’t look to see the pain on Dean’s face but knew it was there anyway. It was supposed to be and Sam was glad he was going to pass out and hopefully forget anything that happened. Dean’s hands were on him again as he stumbled in the shower, hands rubbing gently at the sticking fabric of shirt and denim until they began to work free. His shirt came off first, then his jeans. His boxers were being stubborn and Sam was about to try to just rip it off like a band-aid, only Dean’s hands managed a quick miracle and finally he was free and wet and bleeding all over the place.

He stepped out of the shower and Dean dried him quickly, with Sam pushed against the wall as support. Sam smiled a little, alcohol and blood loss making him light headed and a little loopier than usual. He pulled the towel from his waist as soon as Dean fixed it, then smiled as Dean leaned over and put it back in place. He dropped it again and laughed at the look Dean gave him. “Come on Dean. A blow job is the least you can do for that comment.”

Dean looked horrified and Sam laughed cruelly. Well, no one ever claimed Sam Winchester was a nice drunk. It was the real reason Sam rarely drank. He was pissy when he drank sometimes and with others, he was morbid. It all seemed to depend on who he was with. And with Dean he was downright cruel. In the morning, if he remembered, he knew he’d be apologizing. He wasn’t sure why tonight, but it always happened, if he remembered. He planned on not remembering so when Dean pushed him out of the bathroom and back onto the bed, he reached for the Jack on his way and took another two swigs before Dean was next to him, first aid kit in hand.

Dean stitched him up good, his work always the neatest and tightest of the Winchesters as if everything he did had to be better than anyone else or he wouldn’t be of use. Sam patted his head as he closed the stitching on his thigh and let his fingers drift down the side of his face, his thumb tracing the path of Dean’s lips. “Always the good little soldier, best at everything. Best aim, best stitches. Too bad Daddy didn’t know you were the best little cocksucker too.” He said, pulling the towel away again, only this time Dean was right there, sitting between Sam’s thighs so he could do the stitches.

“Sam.” There was a warning and a curse in that word, but a prayer also and Sam didn’t need to see Dean’s eyes to see the desire.

“Jesus Dean, still hungry for it?” He asked. “Come on, you owe me now. Do it. Swallow me whole big brother, make me come just like you used to.”

There are tears in Dean’s eyes and as he focuses he can see the trails they’ve left on his brother’s cheeks but Sam simply slides his thumb into Dean’s mouth, opening it. When he slides his cock into the weighting heat Dean moans something needy and desperate and haunted. Later as he rides Sam there’s no hiding the pain in his eyes and Sam eats it up like it’s something he’s earned and been anticipating. He hates himself a little because deep down he knows that he has. He’s been waiting 5 years.

The next morning was blurry and hazy and FUCK he had a hangover. That he expected considering the hunt they’d had last night. His stomach revolted and he ran to the bathroom to throw up what little he’d had in his stomach before the hunt last night. He’s cursing the Jack and the hunt and Dean and stitches and the woman in the room next door who’s a whiny little bitch that won’t stop making his head pound.

There’s a cold washcloth against the back of his neck then and a hand running soothing circles down his back. He doesn’t say anything but reaches out and knows there’s a glass of water somewhere close by. Dean hands it to him and he drinks slowly hoping to keep it down that way. His leg hurts like a bitch, hell his whole side does, but he doesn’t feel feverish or delusional so that’s a good sign. When the water stays down for more than a few minutes, Sam puts his hand out again and the pain reliever hits his palm. He swallows them down and leans back, taking comfort because instead of the cold tub he’s leaning against Dean and there’s never been anything in his life that offered more comfort when he was sick than Dean.

“Come on Sam. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Shower.” Sam said softly.

“Bed. You can sleep a few more hours princess. Hit the shower later when I don’t have to worry about you falling over and hitting your head on the way down.”

Sam smiled weakly, because he’d actually done that once, and let Dean half carry him to bed. When Dean acted like he was going to leave, he caught his wrist and pulled him down. Dean sighed deeply but settled on the bed beside Sam so he could rest his head on Dean’s chest and feel his brother’s arms around him.

When he woke again he was still in Dean’s arms. Dean was asleep, but even in sleep his hands tended to stroke Sam’s back or caress his hair anytime Sam moved. He closed his eyes, letting the feel of Dean wash over him.

God damn it. Why did this have to be so hard for them? Why did Sam have to do and say everything to put Dean on the defensive? And why did Dean have to push Sam away so hard? It wasn’t like Sam had cut him off when he left home. Dad was the one that did that, and Dean had just let him. Sam had a right to be angry. Dean had been everything good in his world and Sam had thought Dean felt the same about him. Until that day. So he’d gone to college and waited. For three months he’d waited for Dean to show up, to say he was sorry for not coming sooner, for not calling, but he’d had to wait out Dad’s anger or something stupid like that. But there was nothing, not until Dad went missing and Dean came to bring him back into the hunt. Not back to him. He could have forgiven him anything if it’d been to get him back.

He took a deep breath at his own thoughts and slipped slowly and quietly out of bed so he didn’t disturb Dean. A glass of water and pain relievers were on the bedside table and Sam took them, thankful of big brothers that couldn’t stop taking care of you no matter how much you didn’t need them to. Didn’t need, but it felt nice sometimes anyway.

He looked down at Dean, watching the beauty that was his brother. He looked tired, but he bet he didn’t sleep until Sam woke up earlier, making sure nothing more happened to Sam in those first few hours of healing. He wanted to touch, wanted to brand his name on Dean’s skin with his lips but that was done with. He’d … he closed his eyes at sudden memory and it was so strong he had to open his eyes to make sure he wasn’t licking Dean’s skin just then. He leaned over slowly, letting his fingers pull softly at the neck of his brother’s tee shirt. His hand jerked back as soon as he saw the raw bite mark.

Stepping away from his brother, Sam ducked into the bathroom, breathing heavy and trying not to heave again. Shower. Shower might make things better. At least the routine would settle him as he tried to think about what had happened last night in his alcohol induced insanity.

The water was nice and warm and he was just feeling the heat start to work on throbbing muscles when he began to remember bits and pieces. He remembered Dean fucking himself on Sam’s cock because Sam told him too, told him he was too weak to fuck him on his own. Remembered Dean’s tear stained face as he fucked his mouth. Remembered Dean’s begging and “God Sammy let me come.” Because Dean had always let Sam take control of him like that.

And he remembered what set the whole thing off, his entire body shivering as he did. He could see those green eyes turned to him in surprise, see them wide and open and honest without the normal wall that kept the most private of Dean from the world. He felt himself harden at that and he didn’t fight it. He reached down and began stroking himself, remembering the feel of his brother on his cock after so many years apart, remembering his taste and the feel of his skin under Sam’s fingertips. He remembered the smell of Dean as he buried his head in his brother’s neck, biting flesh until it bled. And orgasm hit as he remembered Dean’s words, the pain and love and concern. “Oh god, Baby Boy.”

Dean was awake when he got out. “About time.” Dean ran past him, the door barely closed before he heard his brother pissing. He laughed lightly, but he felt broken today, more than just the body that didn’t want to work right. He’d messed up last night. He always did when he was drunk, but he wasn’t sure he could make this right. Dean had always been forgiving about this but he wasn’t even sure feigning a black out of the night’s events would get him off the hook.

Sam heard the shower and decided it was better to wait him out on the bed, trying to figure out what to say. Nothing came to mind. There was no ‘sorry for being an ass’ that would cover it. No ‘I was drunk and a jerk’ or even a ‘I missed you and I fucked up’. There was no way to make it better for leaving his brother over 5 years ago and refusing his bed for the past year of it out of stubborn anger at his brother’s refusal to leave their father. There was no way to make up for fucking him in drunken cruelty to prove to them both that he still could.

There was no way to make himself forget the words Baby Boy and the painful longing that was set into motion and now refused to let go.

He must have fallen asleep again because the next time he wakes it’s dark out again and Dean is walking through the door with a couple bags of take out and what look like grocery bags.

“Hey.” He says, sitting up slowly, letting tired muscles and his almost gone hangover relax.

“Hey, you’re awake. I was beginning to get worried when you didn’t wake up for lunch.” Dean said, setting the bags on the table.

He came over and touched the back of his hands to Sam’s forehead and Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t interfere. “Don’t feel warm. I think we’re ok. No signs of infection. Just need a few days of beauty rest and you’ll be up and running princess.”

Sam nodded as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He looked down at his hands as he heard Dean emptying the bags. “Dean…”

Dean stopped taking things out of the bags for a second and the hesitation lasted a few seconds longer. “Yeah Sam?”

“Last night…” He watched his brother’s back tense but he didn’t turn around to look at Sam. “If I said anything … you know …”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Mean ... or … I’m sorry Dean. I don’t mean to do it.”

“No problem Sam. You passed out after those stitches went in. Worst thing you did was to bite me because you didn’t want to scream.” He indicated the mark Sam had seen earlier but when Dean looked at him then, there was something darker in his eyes and he knew Dean was giving him a reason not to look back at the night before too hard. A way to keep the lie in case he saw it.

Only Sam remembered everything now. And god, he wanted Dean back. Wanted it all back but he’d burnt that bridge so hot and so fast he had no basis to begin rebuilding. Last night proved he could still fuck Dean or be fucked by him if that’s what he wanted. But he didn’t. He didn’t want sex. What he wanted was Baby Boy.

“Sorry.” Was all he said.

Dean smiled. “Like I said, not a problem. You were way worse on your 16th birthday. First time I realized you were as mean a drunk as Dad.” Dean continued unpacking from his trip, supplies for the first aid kit, some provisions for the next couple days, Chinese food from a place down the street.

His words were meant to get Sam’s mind off last night because as it happened Sam had been particularly cruel on his 16th birthday and normally a reminder of that would have set him brooding about that for a while. It was an interesting attempt to keep him from last night, but it didn’t work. Even the comparison to Dad was weak against this. Because as mean as Dad got, he’d never gone out of his way to hurt one of the boys. He might be harsh and demanding, but he’d never been cruel like Sam and they both knew it.

That night when Dean went to lie in the other bed, Sam felt a small betrayal. He wanted Dean with him, needed him in some way he never really understood until now. “Dean…” he said softly. “Please…”

Dean came over to the side of the bed, looking down at Sam with the concern he’d always got when he was sick. “I just… can’t sleep. Can you…” He didn’t know how to ask the rest, not after last night but Dean didn’t need anymore. He pulled his tee shirt off and slid in behind Sam, his hand rubbing over Sam’s back, finding the tight places. He rubbed circles into them before his fingers began working the muscles out until his whole body relaxed.

He felt Dean shift and turned over quickly, grabbing him and holding him under, resting his head on Dean’s chest. “Don’t feel safe without you.” He finally mumbled as sleep began taking over.

He felt the soft kiss on his temple and smiled. “I’ve got you Sammy. Always gonna take care of you.” It was a comfort and a promise and somehow it made Sam want to cry for the injustice of it.

Stealth. He decided it was the only way to do anything about this. He needed Dean to forget about it, to stop waiting for Sam to say something. Then he could hit. He needed a way to take it all back but he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was to move forward and now that he understood what this was all about, he thought maybe, just maybe, Dean would give him another chance. If he did this right.

It was two weeks before his chance came. Dean had some pretty nasty cuts and bruises from a poltergeist and they needed to hole up a little before he’d be ready to hunt again. They were both exhausted and beat up and they’d been at it for a while now with no break. Since Dean got the brunt of it again, it left Sam driving. As Dean slept through it, Sam stopped for gas a few times and made some inquiries. The last time they were in a fairly busy rural area, or what passed for busy in a rural aread. Plenty of traffic so there was a wide variety of motels, hotels, and beds to rent.

It took him over 30 minutes to reach the deserted place he’d rented but it was perfect. Dean was still asleep and he was thankful he’d managed to talk him into taking the stronger pain pills. If they’d been still it would be one thing, but they’d needed to get pretty far from the last scene before stopping and he couldn’t take his brother’s pained gasp each time he hit a bump on the back roads.

He grabbed their bags and took them inside the hunting cabin. It wasn’t a great place, but it looked like it had been updated sometime in the 90s and the décor was a neutral brown and beige pallet with bits of green and blue thrown in. The living room was large, with a small kitchen off to one side. To the left as you walked in was the bathroom. Just past that the wall opened up to a fireplace and the door to the bedroom was beyond that. There was no door to the bedroom and the fireplace was a two way, keeping it open for both this room and the bedroom. It was really nice compared to what they were used to and he really couldn’t have afforded it but it was off season and he’d talked about his brother’s PTSD and the need for some quiet time and he’d gotten the keys for far less than the offering price.

He brought in some supplies next, the groceries he’d picked up and their weapons. Lastly, he woke Dean. His brother grumbled but was far too out of it to do more than complain in general. He stripped his clothes off him and put him into the bed, wrapping warm blankets around him and as he rolled onto his side, Sam offered the same back rubs Dean had always given him. He smiled as his brother sighed heavily.

“Thanks Sammy.” Came the muffled reply and within a few minutes Dean was out cold, followed closely by his brother.

“Exactly where are we Sam?”

“The Crawford’s. They have a hunting house that doesn’t get much use ever since grandpa passed away. He used to live up here and they don’t come out except to rent it out now and again.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “And why are we here?”

“To relax Dean.” Sam said with a sigh. “You need to take care of yourself before you start off on some new hunt and since I know you won’t do it, I’m going to.”

“You’re going to take care of me?” Dean asked skeptically.

It hurt a little to hear that but Sam just tilted his chin up a little. “Yeah Dean I am. Just because I’m your little brother doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Dean. “Please Dean? I just … I thought … Just let me do this damn it.”

Dean looked confused but he nodded finally. “Alright man. Calm down. I’m just … well … this is a little nicer than we’re used to.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah. Hey, you hungry?”

Dean shook his head. “Honestly, could go with another nap.”

“Don’t worry sleeping beauty, I promise to back off all new comers until your prince charming comes.”

Dean got a snort as he looked at Sam. He’d never been able to read that look before but he could now, knew it for what it was, and Sam wanted to cheer even if he wanted to beat himself up over it also. “Sure Sam. I’m sure Prince Charming will be along any day now.”

Dean was up for about a week before Sam cooked the big dinner for him. He figured a week of being cooped up and eating healthy was wrecking havoc on Dean’s nerves so he cooked steak and potatoes that night. It was just the way Jess had cooked it and she’s learned from her cousin-could-have-been-twins-separated-by-birth who happened to be a chef. Because unless you taught Jess how to do something in the kitchen, she was helpless. He’d found it rather endearing after having been with Dean who’d learned to cook out of necessity and invention was something he was certainly familiar with.

The fireplace was going, not because it was truly cold out but because with their upbringing fire was a familiar thing in their lives, as comforting in some ways as it was terrifying in others. It did get chilly at night here though and with the fireplace they could leave the windows open to keep it from getting stuffy. Plus Sam could curl up in his sleeping bag at night in front of the fire, pretending to watch it’s flames when he was really watching Dean moving around the bedroom on his own.

They sat on the floor, side by side eating their food and talking about whatever came to mind. From the nice décor, and growing up in a string of nasty hotels did give one an appreciation of the nicer things even if you didn’t expect to ever stay in them, to when they would need to get the Impala worked over again to the last time Sam had tried to cook steak for Dean.

They’d still been lovers then and Dad had been on a hunt, leaving the boys to their own devices. He’d tried to do it right to surprise Dean but it had all gone horribly wrong. Dean had come into the kitchen laughing gently at his brother’s cooking mishaps and taken them out for Mexican instead.

“Well at least I got the food right this time.” Sam said with a small smile.

“Yep. No apologizes needed.”

It was just the opening he needed, in a few ways. First, the apologies last time had been blow jobs because Sam had screwed up and then Dean had given him one for laughing at him. And secondly, because this all needed to start with an honest apology.

“I’m sorry Dean.”

Dean looked confused and started to say so but Sam shook his head. “No, Dean please. I need to get this out so just bare with me.” Dean nodded and Sam looked into the fire rather than his brother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I hurt you before. I don’t mean when I left for Stanford. I had to go and I can’t take that back no matter what happened before or after. But I did hurt you, the night you had to stitch me up.”

It didn’t happen all that often in their lives so he watched out of the corner of his eyes to see his brother stiffen. “I didn’t know how to apologize for what I did Dean, I still don’t, but I have to try.”

“No, you don’t Sam.”

Sam looked over at him then, trying to figure out what it was he was hearing. “Dean, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to think the things I say or do are about you. God Dean, you’re the most caring, comforting person I know. I just… I get hurt and I’m so afraid of losing people and I take it out on you because I know that no matter what I do, you won’t leave me. You don’t care that I’m not normal.”

Dean scoffed slightly and Sam leaned over, putting his fingers over Dean’s lips. “I-” He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t make it right, but I know that’s what happens. You don’t deserve what I say when I’m like that.” He trailed his fingers across Dean’s lips, unable to stop himself. “What I do…”

“You think I deserve this? What you’re doing now?” His eyes are raised and open wide and Sam knows he’s hurt Dean again with his honestly but it’s the only way he knows how. He can’t repair the old bridge so he’d got to push it out of his way and start new.

“No. You deserve so much better than me Dean.” He said, taking his fingers away from Dean’s mouth before he ruins it all by pressing his fingers inside to feel Dean’s tongue licking and lapping at them like he knows he would if he just told him to. “I didn’t understand before but I do now.”

There were tears in his eyes and he took a deep breath as he watched Dean’s eyes close up to him again. God he hated to see it, but he’d grown so used to it since they’d come together again.

“What do you understand Sam?”

“What I want.”

Dean shook his head and shrugged. “Maybe you could explain it Sammy, because I’ve been struggling with that one for years.”

“I want you.”

Dean gave a bitter laugh as he stood up. “Nice try Sammy. You had me. For four years you had me and you walked away.”

“I thought you’d come after me.”

“You knew I couldn’t.”

“Not to stay, no, but to visit.”

“You wanted the normal life Sam.  That doesn’t include fucking your brother.”

Sam stood so that Dean couldn’t loom over him. He took a step closer and Dean backed up, not liking something he saw in Sam’s eyes. Sam continued backing him until he was against a wall. He came close enough to touch but didn’t, held himself back just enough to give them a little space so Dean wouldn’t feel caged in.

“No, but I don’t want to fuck my brother anymore.”

He saw the way his throat moved, like he was swallowing his heart. “What do you want from me then Sammy?”

“I want you to love me, like you used to.” He reached out then, hands coming up to Dean’s face to force him to look back. “Like I know you still do Dean. I know it and it’s all I can think about. I didn’t understand back then what it was. It wasn’t until after Jess that I realized how much of yourself you gave me. It was until Jess couldn’t give that much that I realized just how fucked up and wonderful everything about us was. But it was too late and you were gone and I was with her.” He dropped his head to rest it on Dean’s shoulder. “I thought it was gone until that night. But you said it and I know it’s still there Dean, just … Jesus please Dean.”

He looked at Dean, saw the tears standing in his brother’s eyes. “Anything you want Dean and I’ll be it. I just… I love you Dean. Please…”

Dean’s mouth was on his in a heart beat and he was pulled into his brother’s embrace. When Sam came up for air Dean continued kissing his face, his eyelids and cheekbones, his chin and forehead and then worked his way down his neck.

He didn’t hear it right away and he was afraid he’d lost the right to it or that he’d have a much harder road to travel to hear it, but then it was there. He was lost in his brother’s body, thrusting up into him on the bed, the fire behind them leaving shadows and kissing Dean’s skin in golden tones. His forehead was resting on Dean’s, sharing breath when the passion became too intense to focus on anything more than the slow grind of hips. Dean arched up into him, his eyes focusing on Sam’s.

“God I missed you Baby Boy.”

It was all Sam had ever wanted and ever needed, to be loved and cherished and be the Baby Boy that he had become in Dean’s arms so many nights ago. Everything he’d ever learned about being a generous lover had come from Dean, everything he knew about giving and bending and standing up to fight for what you believed in was from this man. Baby Boy was more than an endearment. It was a title, won in blood and sweat and trials and it was pride and love that made Dean speak it now. It was a badge of who he had once been and what he had lost and it was one he wore on his soul now proudly.

His orgasm came instantly and blindingly, Dean’s strong arms holding him tight through it even when his own came. Dean was kissing his face again and when he reached his lips Sam was finally coherent enough to smile at his brother. “Missed you too De. God, I missed you too.”