Exposed
Title : Exposed
Author : Meigun-Blaze
Word Count : 7437
Pairing : Sam/Dean
Rating : NC-17
Warnings : Slight spoilers for 6x15
Authors Note : Sequel to "My Dirty Little Secret" which can be found here meigun-blaze.livejournal.com/810.html#cutid1 It might be confusing if you don’t read that first, but I guess this could stand alone. This Story was written for jackfan2 who suggested I should do a sequel. Here you go, Darling. I never expected it to get this long, so thank you. Without your comment, this story would not exist.
Summary : After coming back from the alternate universe they were sent to, Sam’s having more trouble than usual keeping his secret from Dean.
It’s an irrational fear. Like those dreams where you’re standing in front of a crowd buck-ass naked, only to wake up and frantically check that your clothes are; in fact, still on. That’s how Sam feels. Utterly exposed. As transparent as fine crystal, even though he knows that his dirty little secret is safe. He’s kept it to himself for so long, the idea of it getting out makes his palms sweaty, his throat dry, and his head ache.
Sam’s on edge and it’s obvious Dean can see it. He’s been giving him these suspicious looks lately that do nothing to help his paranoia.
He knows. It’s in his eyes, he knows everything.
Sam’s skin crawls and he forces the tiny voice whispering in his mind to shut the fuck up. Ever since the alternate universe thing…seeing those pictures, Sam’s been thrown. Doesn’t know how to behave anymore. What’s normal, what isn’t? Was he ever really normal, though? Christ, that just makes everything more confusing. He’s awkward around Dean. Stuttering over his words and tripping over his limbs like he’s the gangly teenager again that hasn’t yet grown into his body.
Dean just stares at him with narrowed calculated green eyes, trying to sum up the problem Sam’s got going on. Already trying to fix it. Usually that’s when Sam makes an excuse to run out of the room, and he knows it’s not making Dean any less curious, but fuck, what is he supposed to do?
It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.
Sam knows that thought is true, because he’s getting sloppy. Looking at Dean far longer than is normal, desire practically written all over his face as he watches his brother’s tongue swipe along his sinfully shaped lips to make them glisten with moisture. Damn, but he’s one sick puppy.
Dean can never know.
Sam is extra careful the next few days. Keeping just the right amount of distance between him and Dean. Looking when only appropriate and for a designated amount of time. No longer. He makes sure there are no brotherly touches of affection, or any type of affection, for that matter. Dean hasn’t said anything about the way he’s acting, and Sam counts that as a blessing, because it must mean he’s doing it right. Correctly. He can do this. He can get this under control again.
Do you even want to control it?
Shut. The. Fuck. Up!
Sam sucks in a shuddering breath, trying to shake the wrongness inside, out of his very soul. It’s only a matter of time before this all comes crashing down around him. He knows that. Doesn’t need confirmation from his fucking conscience. Dean knows him better than he knows himself. He’ll see it, if he hasn’t already. And soon, he’ll stop trying to rationalize it away, and that’s when the shit will really hit the fan, because Sam has no excuse, no defense against this. He can’t stop loving Dean the way he does. Can’t stop feeling this…
“Go to sleep, Sam. I can hear you thinking all the way over here.” Dean grumbles, turning in his blankets until he’s comfortable.
Sam’s heart pounds a mile a minute, just from the sound of Dean’s voice piercing the silence. Even when he doesn’t say a word, Dean still knows. Sam wont be able to keep his secret safe much longer. With this thought, he turns over and closes his eyes, prays for a dreamless night.
*
Dean gets touchy after that. Sam already knew that in their family, he was the one that used words to express his feelings. Dean was always the one who used his body. If you did something that made Dean grateful, he would move towards you in this way. Would almost crowd in your personal space, but not quite. He would lean in and you would just know that he was saying, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” It was all there, in the same sense as when he looked at Sam. There was so much love leaking out of his eyes giving away every emotion and Sam could read it all as easy as if they were words on a page.
You mean more than the world to me. I’d do anything for you. Don’t ever leave me, because I need you. You ARE my world.
Dean’s body spoke for him and it was driving Sam crazy.
Sam offered to go to the library and do the research on the troll they were hunting. He mostly did it to put some distance between them, but Dean hated research, and that’s the excuse he went with. When he came home late that night, eyes blurry from reading so much and body stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, Dean had come up behind him, talented hands squeezing along Sam’s shoulders to rub soothingly at his neck until his muscles had no choice but to uncurl and relax.
Sam almost choked on his own tongue, cock hardening embarrassingly fast at the touch and he sprang from his chair so quickly, it would’ve turned over if Dean hadn’t caught it. He ran away to the bathroom, shouting something over his shoulder about library smell and book musk before slamming the door on his own words.
The touch happened again when hustling pool in the same town, on the same case. a drunk biker and fellow hustler tried to make a swipe at Dean; who, of course, was the better con man. Sam had moved so fast, he was almost a blur, standing between his brother and danger, grabbing the man’s hand before it could follow through with the blow and try to mar Dean’s skin. In the back of his mind, that voice was laughing at him.
The strong warrior to the damsel’s rescue. You do know that Dean’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, right?
Shit.
“Tell your dog to heel before I put him down, boy.” The biker demanded, eyes still on Dean, like Sam wasn’t even there. Dean just smirked, moving forward until his front brushed Sam’s back, chin resting on Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s whole body tightened at the touch, fingers closing painfully around the man’s fist and the biker flinched.
“It looks to me like you better back off, before he puts you down.” Dean said and even though he couldn’t see him, Sam could hear the amused smile in his voice.
The man glared at Sam, but when he turned to look at Dean there was hatred there.
“Bunch of queers.” He growled, yanking his hand out of Sam’s grip and Sam let him go, staring after him in shock as he left the bar.
He knows. A stranger knows, and if he saw it than Dean’s going to see it. He’s going to see it in you and hate you-
“Come on, Sam. Let’s go home.” Dean urged softly, moving to stand beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and practically guiding him to the door and into the Impala, cause Sam was almost positive he couldn’t move without help now.
When they were back in the safety of the room, Sam was still shaking. Not from fear of discovery, but from a more primal emotion and one he was no stranger to. Over-protective mode. It always reminded him of those documentaries he watched on lions, when something wandered into their territory and threatened what was theirs. That’s exactly what he was feeling.
“You shouldn’t have provoked him Dean. That guy had friends. Did you see his vest? He rides in a gang and the way that sonofabitch looked at you-”
“Hey?” Dean interrupted, voice surprisingly soothing as he sat on the bed next to Sam. “I’m fine, okay? I knew what I was getting into and I could’ve handled it.” Dean reassured and Sam turned away. Dean wasn’t infallible. One day, he wouldn’t be there, and-
“Hey?” Dean said again, hand coming up to grip Sam’s chin and turn his face back until he had his eyes.
“Okay, you’re right. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have provoked him. It was an idiot move.”
Sam’s eyes widened so big that Dean couldn’t help but laugh.
“What? I know how to admit when I’m wrong.”
“Is this a new trick, cause I’ve never seen it before.”
Dean lightly hit the back of Sam’s head and even Sam couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
“Trick.” Dean muttered softly, shaking his head. “You’re the dog, remember?” Dean asked, and Sam did remember what that man had called him. Maybe it wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Thanks, by the way.” Dean said out of the blue and Sam cocked his head like a curious puppy.
“For what? Cramping your style?”
“For having my back.” Dean said seriously, and Sam’s body responded to the smoldering green color his eyes turned into whenever he was this intense.
“Always.” Sam whispered and he watched as Dean’s eyes changed again, into the bright emerald of a forest when he smiled, hand coming up to ruffle Sam’s hair, and Sam was done. That was enough touching for one day. He stood up quickly, already heading towards the shower when a thought stopped him in his tracks and he turned to look over his shoulder at Dean, who was still sitting on his bed.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“About?” Dean asked, absently picking a piece of lint off the ugly bedspread.
“When he called us- when he implied-”
“That we were fucking?”
Sam gave a spluttering cough and Dean threw back his head and laughed. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he saw his brother this happy, but it usually came at his expense.
“I doubt he would’ve listened long enough for me to explain to him our relationship, Sammy.” Dean answered, eyes suddenly glinting with the bright light of mischief.
“Besides, I didn’t see you going out of your way to deny it.”
Sam glared over his shoulder, but he knew his brother was telling the truth. He hadn’t said a fucking word.
“You’re such a jerk.” Sam muttered, continuing his trek towards the bathroom, when he heard Dean laugh again.
“Bitch.”
*
It tingles at the back of Sam’s mind, a constant annoyance, not unlike the voice that pipes up to put him in his place whenever he strays, and finally, Sam has to ask. Needs to know.
“Would you have been happier there?”
Dean’s on his own bed, cleaning out the guns meticulously. They know where the troll is now and only have to wait till nightfall before they can dispose of it for good. Take it out so it’ll never hurt anyone again. Dean doesn’t bother to look up, just continues to clean the barrel of his sawed-off shotgun.
“Happier where?”
“In that other reality. Where there’s no monsters or apocalypses. No angels and Demons. God or the Devil.” Sam explains and Dean lets go of a soft smile.
“Sounds kind of nice, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds completely normal.” Sam corrects and Dean sets the barrel down before giving him his attention.
“Exactly.”
“You hate normal, Dean!” Sam argues.
“Yeah, but you don’t, Sam!” Dean says, voice rising and he stands, too uncomfortable to sit and feel smaller than he does when he’s next to Sam. Dean rubs his fingers over his lips and Sam’s eyes trace the movement.
“I’m not naïve Sam, I know this is who I am. Who I’ll always be, I can’t change that. But in that other place? You had it all. The famous job, the huge fucking house! You even had Ruby, de-clawed and harmless. You could’ve been happy there-”
“That’s why you wanted to stay? Cause you thought I’d be happy? Not because it would’ve made you happy?” Sam asks, and Dean’s looking at him like he’s an idiot.
“Why else did you think I wanted to stay?”
Sam’s stomach flutters and he breathes a sigh of relief. He can’t stop himself from moving towards Dean, hands coming up to wrap his brother in a hug, chest shaking from the laughter bubbling up inside him.
“You’re so fucking stupid, Dean.” He laughs, unable to hold it in anymore.
“Hey!” Dean exclaims, hand coming up between them to lightly hit Sam’s chest.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You thought I’d be happier there, and you were willing to stay and be miserable. You’re so fucking dumb, man.” Sam says, laughing at his brother as he continues to hold him against his body. He knows that he’s breaking his own, “No touching,” rule, but he needs this now. Needs it more than anything. He would take the curse of his family, the demon blood, the deals and the pain. He’d take the angels and the demons. The apocalypse, heaven and hell. God and the Devil himself, as long as he could have this, right here.
Dean.
And when Dean’s own arms reach up to wrap around Sam, it’s more than worth it.
*
It’s bad. It reeks and it sticks and it’s fucking everywhere! Fucking horrible. Troll blood and guts and slime and whatever the hell else that had been in the thing’s cave, collecting over the years. Sam’s covered in it. Dean’s covered in it, but his brother would cut off a limb to make sure the Impala’s not covered in it.
“We’ll have to walk back.” He states, voice leaving no room for argument.
“Dean, it’s more than twenty miles!”
“So we better start now.”
Sam huffs in an undignified breath. He’s drenched in another creatures fluids and his brother wants him to walk over two dozen miles in the cold, smelling this shit?
“You’re being a fucking priss right now, I hope you know that.” Sam growls.
“Oh I’m sorry, Sam.” Dean says sarcastically. “Is it your car? No? Then shut the fuck up.”
Sam crosses his arms over his chest and cringes when they splatter in the goop that covers his shirt. Dean smirks openly at him, mouthing the word, ‘Karma.’
“This is ridiculous-”
“No, trying to get all this crap out of the upholstery would be ridiculous! And the smell alone wouldn’t come out. She’d never forgive me, Sam.” Dean yells, arms flailing around like they’ll convince him.
“I’m not going to forgive you if you make me walk to our motel room smelling like this.” Sam yells back, finger coming up to point accusingly at Dean, only to have more troll bits fall off his skin to land with a splat on the ground.
“Oh that’s fucking gross.”
Dean just laughs at him and Sam glares, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know why you find this so funny! You look just as bad as I do, and you have troll brains in your hair.”
Dean’s face immediately falls. “It’s in my hair! Aw, dude, why’d you tell me that?” Dean demands, hands coming up to feel the slick, mushy substance coating his scalp. “Fuck, this is nasty.”
Sam watches as Dean bends at the waist, desperately trying to shake the brain out of his matted locks.
“Come on, Dean. I want a shower, and you definitely need one. I saw on the map earlier that their should be a creek nearby. What do you say we dunk ourselves in that, get clean enough, lay down that old blanket we have in the trunk over the seats and drive to the motel?”
Sam can see Dean’s considering it. He really doesn’t want to walk all that way with this shit on his body, so he sighs and gives in.
“If I so much as smell troll on her after-”
“You wont.” Sam promises, eyeing his surroundings and judging how far the running creek should be.
“It’s this way.” He says confidently, heading northeast. Dean follows, muttering the whole time about guts and unsanitary jobs.
Sam finds the creek with not much difficulty. There’s even a soft bank of dirt, surrounded by smoothed out rocks to hold their things while they soak. Dean’s already undressing, carefully pulling his shirt over his head so he doesn’t get anymore troll on him.
“The smell is never coming out.” Dean says pathetically as he eyes the shirt. “I liked this one, too.”
Sam continues to watch, mouth wide open and probably drooling as Dean strips out of every article of clothing he’s wearing until he’s unashamedly bearing all to the world, God, and most importantly, Sam.
Dean gives him an awesome view of his ass as he walks straight into the water without pause, going deep enough until his whole body is submerged.
“F-fucking cold!” Dean yells, coming up spluttering. He gives Sam the up and down curiously. “You gonna get in, or stand there all night? Cause I’m not letting you in my car like that.”
Sam sighs and shakes his head before trying to remove his clothing with as much care as possible. He’s with his brother on this, the clothes are unsalvageable.
Sam strips naked as well, getting in the water quickly so Dean doesn’t see the hardness between his legs, but Dean’s too busy trying to wash brain out of his hair.
The water is a shock to Sam’s system. It makes his temperature drop and his body start to shake but at least he feels surprisingly cleaner.
“Aw, I feel like it’s in between the cracks!” Dean whines from somewhere to Sam’s right. Sam’s got his eyes closed, killing off the temptation to stare at his brother’s pale naked flesh. He meticulously washes himself until his skin is red with irritation. Sam swears he can still smell it.
“You’ve got something still.” Dean says, more closer than Sam expected and he can’t help but flinch, startled.
“Jeez, jumpy, aren’t we?” Dean asks, smile twitching at the corner of his bowed lips while he continues to swim closer, and Sam has the undeniable urge to run again. Dean’s naked under the water. He’s naked under the water!
Maybe you should take advantage of the situation.
Sam squeezes his eyes shut and physically shakes his head to try and get rid of the voice.
“Hold still so I can get it.” Dean orders, and Sam finds himself as still as a statue while Dean crowds in close, eyes zeroing in on the spot on his neck, just below his ear. Sam watches captivated when Dean sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking, getting it wet, even though he has a perfectly capable water source at his disposal, it makes this far more intimate.
Dean bites the corner of his lip into his mouth while he rubs his thumb maddeningly slow and sensual over the dark stain on Sam’s skin. His chest heaves and his air supply feels like it’s being drained as Dean keeps fucking rubbing!
You’re being too obvious! He’s going to see! He’s going to know!
“There.” Dean says, swimming away a little. “I hate to break it to you, but I think this is as good as we’re going to get without soap.” He says and Sam has no idea what the hell Dean’s talking about at first.
“Oh!” He shouts in realization and Dean frowns at him. “Right. Right, so…we should get out.” Sam finishes lamely and Dean just nods at him like he’s lost his mind.
“After you, Princess.” Dean motions and Sam grits his teeth at the pet name, but he exit’s the water first gratefully because it means he doesn’t have to stare at Dean’s naked body.
“Christ, it’s cold.” Sam chatters as the breeze picks up to caress against his dripping flesh. He can hear Dean getting out right behind him and they both head towards the rocks that hold their stuff.
“What are we going to do about the clothes?” Sam asks absently, more to fill the silence than anything else.
“Burn ‘em.” He hears Dean say and he forgets that he’s not supposed to look at him.
“What?!” He demands, eyes falling on Dean’s face first, before he lets them wander all over Dean’s naked skin. Dean doesn’t seem to notice his brother’s appreciation as he goes through his pant’s pockets.
“Burn them, Sam.” He repeats, finally looking up to notice Sam’s wide, Caught-in-the-headlights-eyes.
“What are we supposed to wear back to the car? All our clothes are at the motel room! We can’t just drive there naked, we’ll get charged with indecent exposure.” Sam argues, trying to put sense in his brother’s head, but Dean just looks more excited.
“It’ll be like a thrill.”
“Dean!” Sam yells. “Come on!” He continues softer, “Can’t we just…wash them in the creek? Get the goop off?”
Dean looks at him with narrowed eyes full of exasperation.
“You really think a soak in the creek will do these good? They’re stained beyond repair, they reek more now then they did before, and I’m pretty sure something in that troll is eating away the material.”
Sam takes another look at his ruined clothes, and sure enough, they’re disintegrating. Right. No clothes, then.
Very convenient.
Sam makes sure that his pockets are empty before throwing his clothes on the ground with Dean’s. Dean always keeps his lighter on him, so he sets the flame to the pile and it catches quick, as if they were drenched in gasoline. They watch it, making sure the fire doesn’t spread and don’t leave until the flames die down.
“Come on.” Dean says, grabbing his wallet, keys and lighter from the rock he set them on. Sam follows reluctantly. This sucks. Someone up there really hates him, because he’s hiking through the woods wet, naked, barefoot, and with his brother, who’s parading around naked in front of him too, and damn it, this isn’t the time to get a fucking boner!
By the time they emerge from the forest onto the soft road with the Impala gleaming in the distance, Sam and Dean’s feet are both covered in mud, dirt traveling up their legs to fade along the backs of their knees. And, oh yeah, Sam’s as hard as a fucking rock. Hand not very discretely trying to hide his dick.
Dean doesn’t glance behind him though, he practically runs the rest of the way to his car, keys jingling with each step. Sam power walks to the passenger side, using the Impala to hide his problem away. Dean’s petting her flank, whispering to her like a lover and Sam’s cock twitches against his stomach. Jesus Christ.
“Aw baby, the things I do for you.” Dean growls, voice gone husky. He rummages through the trunk until he finds that old blanket that they keep back there, just in case. Sam watches through his window as Dean maneuvers the blanket around over their seats, muscles rippling with each movement, dick swinging softly between his legs.
Shit.
Sam’s tongue traces his lips and his mouth waters, desperate for that cock down his throat.
Why don’t you tell Dean that? He might let you have a taste.
Sam sinks his teeth into the side of his cheek, using the pain as an anchor.
“Thanks for the help, asshole. You can get in now.” Dean grumbles from inside the car. Sam opens the door and gets in using the most awkward method possible, just so Dean wont get a glimpse of his front. He situates himself so his hard cock is trapped between his thighs and damn if he can’t help but think about Silence of the Lambs right now.
It’s easy to avoid other cars out in the middle of nowhere, but when they get back to the city, it’s damn near impossible. Dean gets stuck at a stoplight, which makes Sam’s heart pick up speed. They’ve been so lucky about dodging these so far, and another car inches up to wait beside them on Sam’s side.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look!
Sam can’t help but quietly chant this mantra, even as he stares at the guy blatantly out his window. The man has this self-satisfied smirk on his face, which falls when he feels the stare of another. Sam watches in horror as the guy slowly turns to look at him, noticing too late that the two men in the sweet ride next to his, are naked.
Dean; being Dean, of course, runs his hand down his own chest like an offering, and obviously, the guy freaks out. Sam watches as his eyes bug out, his face turns red, and his mouth drops open.
The man runs the red light, and not a second later, they both watch in disbelief as a cop zooms past them to chase the offender up the street with flashing lights.
Once the light turns green, Dean hightails it to the motel.
*
They’re in the dark parking lot of the motel, in the space that’s closest to their room; which, actually, isn’t very close at all, due to the fact that it’s just a leveled field about fifty feet away from the actual building. The car is shut off, and there doesn’t seem to be any people in sight.
Dean is still laughing.
“Did you see his face? Fucking priceless!” He says between huffed breaths of amusement. Sam glares as he watches out the window for any signs of life.
“You didn’t have to do what you did. Now he’s gonna give our descriptions to the cops.”
“Relax, little brother, the cop’ll never believe him. He’ll just think he’s trying to weasel his way out of a ticket.”
Sam sincerely hopes he’s right about that.
“Do you see anyone?” Sam demands, turning back toward him, and fuck, Dean’s dick is hard, bouncing against his flat belly.
“Jesus, Dean! What the hell?” Sam demands, more breathless than he’d care to admit. Dean’s cock is huge when full. Maybe as big as him, he’d have to measure-
Dean looks down at the leaking, swollen head and gives a sheepish smile.
“All the excitement, Sammy.” He says in way of explanation and Sam thinks he’s lost it.
“This isn’t exciting, Dean! This is a train wreck waiting to happen!”
“Eh. To each their own.” Dean mumbles, eyes searching the deserted parking lot.
“No one’s around. Lets go, Sam. Now!” Dean demands suddenly, springing from the car gracefully as Sam struggles with the door handle, practically falling over himself when he finally manages to get out. Dean’s there waiting, refusing to leave Sam behind, and together, they run towards their door, Dean scrabbling with his wallet to try and find the key card. Sam can’t help but feel ridiculous as his sight follows his brother, running ass-naked in some no-name city to a run down motel. It’s more than a little strange.
They get to the door and almost run straight into it with their speed and momentum, and Sam waits, more anxious now that he’s holding still than when he was running. Dean still hasn’t found the card.
“Dean, where’s the fucking key?” Sam demands in a hushed panicked whisper.
“Calm down, Sam, it’s in here.”
“Dean!” Sam presses. He can hear whistling coming from around the corner. It’s getting louder.
“Dean!” Sam says again when the door’s still not open.
“Don’t rush me, Sam!” Dean has the card finally, and he’s trying to fit it in the slot just right so the damn light turns green while Sam watches the corner where the whistling gets ever louder. Just as the man comes into view, Sam hears the click of the door opening and feels Dean’s hand on his shoulder, yanking him inside. The door slams with a bang, and him and Dean are tangled up together against the wall. They look at each other, disbelief in their eyes, and that’s when they start laughing, uncontrollably.
“This might be one of the strangest nights of my life.” Sam chokes between laughs, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “And that’s saying a lot.”
Dean’s in no better condition, body shaking with uncontained amusement.
“Fuck, that was fun.” He chuckles, and Sam can’t help but smile when Dean grins up at him.
“Looks like all the excitement got to you after all.” He suddenly says, and Sam’s confused before it dawns on him and his eyes widen in horror. His dick full, hard, and thick, nestled warmly up against Dean’s stomach, poking him and smearing precome on his skin. Sam gasps, untangling himself from Dean as quickly as he can, running towards the bathroom. He doesn’t bother with any sort of excuse this time. It’s all over anyways.
You can’t explain it away anymore. He knows now. Knows everything. Dean will probably never look at you the same way again. Well, that’s even if he can look at you at all.
Sam whimpers, masking the weak sound by turning on the shower and it rushes into the room, bouncing and echoing off the walls. Sam climbs in under the hot spray, water immediately going to work on all the dirt caked on his skin, washing it away in swirling clouds down the drain. Sam feels like he can relate to that, because he’s sure that he’s spiraling out of control, falling apart.
Dean knows!
Sam’s got water in his eyes, but he can still hear the shower curtain being moved aside as Dean steps in behind him. Sam tenses up. This is it. Dean couldn’t even stand to wait, he’s gonna punch him in the face, right here, right now. Sam doesn’t turn around, irrationally thinking that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t look at Dean. Doesn’t see the disgust in his emerald eyes.
“Scoot over, would ya? I smell like shit still, and I’m not waiting for you to hog up all the hot water before you get out.” Sam’s eyes snap open in disbelief, twisting around to face Dean so quickly, he almost trips over his limbs, but Dean catches and steadies him easily enough.
“Dean, I…what-”
“Sam, Sam, Sam.” Dean mutters, head shaking, hand moving down and Sam takes in a shuddering breath when he feels his brother’s fingers wrap tightly around his cock.
“You know, you’re not very good at hiding things from me, and you’re not as sneaky as you think.” Dean adds in mock disappointment. “I mean, come on, Sammy. All the lingering looks? The minor freak-outs whenever I touch you. The constant run to the showers.” Then he stops like he’s considering something. “And then there’s this.” He adds absently, fingers stroking Sam’s cock in such a delicious way, Sam shudders, eyes rolling up in his head.
“Nghn. Dean. Dean, please. Don’t play with me.” Sam begs, hoping like hell this isn‘t just some cruel joke.
“But Sam,” Dean argues, slipping in close until his lips brush over his ear. “All I want to do is play with you.”
Sam whimpers, can’t help it, and he just thrusts wildly into Dean’s hand. If this is some sort of dream or prank, he’s going to fucking enjoy it while he can.
“The first step is admitting it, Sam.” Dean chimes in, those lips that drive Sam crazy mouthing along his neck before sinking his teeth in, just enough to sting.
“You’ve wanted me for a long time, haven’t you?”
Fuck, yeah. So long, you have no idea. Longer than I can remember.
Sam can’t say all that. Can’t really even form words anymore. Instead, what comes out is a soft, “Mmm-hmm.” and his eyes open in time to see Dean’s satisfied smirk.
“Can you keep a secret?” Dean whispers, and Sam shudders at the dual sensations of the heat from the shower spray and the heat from Dean’s mouth hitting him at once.
“Yes! Yes, I can…keep a s-secret.” Sam chokes out and Dean’s grin widens.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, too.”
“Oh, God.” Sam cries, so close to coming, but Dean already knows, easily reading Sam’s reactions, and his fingers move down to the base of Sam’s dick, circling and adding just enough pressure to be painful and Sam feels his orgasms shrinking away.
“You didn’t let me finish.” Dean reprimands. “You can’t finish until I tell you what I came in here to tell you.”
“What-…what did you want to tell me?” Sam gasps out. Dean’s grin turns into a sexy smile, and Sam’s breath stutters.
“Well, I’ve decided that since you want me so bad, go ahead. Take me.”
Sam’s speechless, eyes wide, mouth hanging open like a fish.
“Dean, you can’t-”
“I can, and I’m going to, but first? We should really get cleaned up.”
Sam looks between them, and Dean’s right, they’re still filthy, but his body isn’t in the mood to respond, because-
Dean just said he could fuck him…right?
“Come on Sam, move your roll.” Dean demands, all bark, no bite. When Sam still can’t move, Dean sighs and sets about cleaning them both, which only helps to make Sam’s IQ drop that much more. Every time Sam tries to touch Dean, he slaps his hands away.
“Not yet, Sam.” He says and Sam thinks this is his own personal form of torture. Having Dean, yet not having Dean. The sound of the water cutting off is what finally shakes Sam out of it.
“Now?” Sam asks, hopeful as a puppy and Dean gives him that smile that makes his heart do funny things as he steps out of the shower.
“Now, Sam.” He answers, and Sam moves like a bullet, limbs finally finding their grace and stability as he climbs out of the shower and stalks towards Dean, charging him. He has just enough time to see the brief flash of panic in Dean’s eyes before they collide and Sam picks him up easily, Dean’s legs coming up to wrap around his waist and they slip against each other sensually from the water that still peppers their skin.
“Jesus, Sammy. You’re like a fucking bull.” Dean says in awe as Sam continues to move them from the bathroom, holding Dean up as if he weighed nothing. The demonstration of strength makes Dean’s dick jump eagerly against his belly, and Sam burns even more because he can feel it too.
He doesn’t make it to the bed, instead, he settles for the wall outside the bathroom door. He needs to feel Dean, touch him, fuck him. Right now!
“Get up there.” Sam growls, slamming Dean against the crumbling wallpaper and Dean stares at him in wonder, wrapping his legs more tightly around his waist. Sam leans in, not able to wait anymore and his mouth savagely claims his brother’s. He wants to learn those lips, every detail. The texture, the taste, the shape. Those fucking lips that he’d dreamed about. Could remember being in the fifth grade when his vulgar friend Alex had said, “I saw your brother yesterday down at the garage. Pretty, isn’t he? With those cock-sucker lips of his.”
Sam had punched Alex square in his own mouth for those comments, but it didn’t make him any better. He had already thought the same things, over and over again, and he was Dean’s brother. It didn’t mean he wanted somebody else to think it, though.
Sam breaks away and Dean’s panting, eyes glazed.
“Come on, Sam. Fuck me already.”
“You’re a little cock-slut, aren’t you? You ever let anyone else do this to you? Ever let anyone else shove their dick up your ass?” Dean’s moaning at Sam talking dirty, is lapping it up and humping against Sam like a bitch in heat.
“No, Sam. Never. Always you. Only you.” Dean promises and Sam can’t help but feel that jealous-possessive streak inside him roar with satisfaction.
“You belong to me, got that? If anyone ever touches you again, I’ll fucking kill them, Dean. You hear me?”
“Yes, Sammy! God, yes. Please? Do it already? Please?”
Sam shoves his fingers in his mouth, lathering them up with saliva as best as he can. It’s not nearly enough lubrication, and he knows it wouldn’t take much to retrieve the bottle of lotion in his bag, or something. But a part of him, wants Dean to hurt. Not because he wants to cause his brother pain. Never. He just wants Dean to feel him for days. Even after this is over, no matter how it plays out, he still wants Dean to remember. To feel him always, right there. Inside.
Sam’s hand reaches down, fingers wriggling in between Dean’s cheeks to languidly circle his quivering hole. Dean sucks in a breath, body arching off the wall as Sam’s finger slowly sinks inside all that tight heavenly heat. How the fuck did he survive so long without this. Dean’s exquisite in every way.
“More.” Dean begs, desperately trying to get that finger deeper inside him. Sam obliges, adding in a second finger and withdrawing them both only to shove back in, fucking Dean faster and harder and Dean mewls, long thick lashes fluttering against his pale, freckled cheeks.
“Dean?” Sam begs. “I can’t wait any longer! Please? I have to be inside you now.”
“Fuck yes.” Dean grants him permission and Sam tears his fingers out, drawing a startled squeal from Dean before he’s lining up his dick with Dean’s stretched hole. He’s bigger than his fingers. Way bigger, and he prays that he’s not about to fuck this whole thing up.
Sam lifts Dean a little higher along the wall before he slowly lets him sink down, impaling that tight heat to stretch wide, accommodating Sam’s monster cock. Sam shudders, unable to hold back and he lets Dean’s body go, gravity doing it’s job and Dean falls with a cry the rest of the way down, swallowing Sam’s dick like he was born to.
“Oh my God, Dean.” Sam huffs out, muscles twitching, chest heaving. “You’re so fucking tight.” Sam can feel it, the tight heat of Dean’s hole fitting around him like a glove and it’s almost painful.
“Gaah!” Dean yells through clenched teeth, head thrown back to thump against the wall. Sam needs Dean to enjoy this, but to do that, he’s going to have to loosen him up inside first. Sam starts moving, small circles with his hips at first before he shallowly thrusts up into that hole.
“Fuck.” He groans. It feels better and tighter than any girl he’s ever been with. Already he can honestly say Dean’s the best lay he’s ever had, and Dean isn’t even doing anything.
Sam moves in closer, pinning Dean against the wall with his body and he shifts to change the angle before fucking up into it and Dean suddenly draws tight, spasms wrack through him and Sam can feel the rim of his entrance fluttering excitedly around his cock in the most delicious way.
“Hmm. Sam? Do that again.” Dean begs, and Sam smirks.
“Yeah, Dean? You like that?” Sam asks and he thrusts again, nailing Dean’s prostate with ease and Dean’s back bows off the wall.
“Fuck, Sam, keep going.” Dean demands, and Sam takes this up a notch, pulling out of Dean only to pound back in with deep hard thrust, mercilessly fucking him into the wall.
Dean squeezes his eyes shut, the sensations too sharp and raw, but Sam wants to see them. See just exactly what shade of green Dean’s eyes turn while he’s getting fucked.
“Open ‘em, Dean. Need to see you. Need you to see what I’m doing to you.” Sam orders and Dean’s eyes flutter open. They’re a deep jade color, and Sam’s hands fly out to grip Dean’s, holding them along the sides of his head against the wall. The only thing keeping Dean there is Sam’s body and Dean’s own legs wrapped around Sam.
“God, Dean. I knew how good-looking you were, but the way you look when you’re being fucked? Jesus, I wish you could have that all the time. Wish I could fuck you all the time.” Sam moans and Dean echoes the noise.
Sam’s hips snap wildly, fucking like a beast and the way Dean just takes it all? It’s almost too much.
“Sammy?” Dean lets out on a whimper, and Dean looks so scared because he’s being unraveled, coming undone.
“It’s okay, Dean. I’m right here. You gonna come, baby?” And Dean’s nodding emphatically. Sam moves off of the wall then, and Dean lets out a small noise of surprise as he’s carried to the bed, Sam’s dick moving inside him with each step. Sam lays him out on the bed carefully, like a blushing-bride-to-be, and Dean feels desperate. Needy.
“Sam, come on!” Dean begs, wiggling on the end of Sam’s cock.
“Gonna fuck you good, Dean. It’s gonna be so good.” Sam promises, hips snapping back again before shoving forward with thrusts so powerful, Dean’s sure he can feel Sam’s cock in the back of his throat.
“Love you like this, Dean. So fucking gone you’re begging for it. Such a good little whore for my cock, baby.” Sam goes to town. Pounding away at Dean’s ass like a jackhammer, and Dean’s so close his cock leaks profusely, swelling up thicker and fatter than it ever his before. All it really needs is one touch, one…little…touch…
“Come for me, Dean.”
And just like that, the world whites out as Dean shoots his load all over himself. Sam fucks him through it, continuously hitting his prostate and Dean continues to spurt, dick twitching with the effort, he’s dry, nothing left to give but he’s still coming. Shooting blanks.
Sam’s hands grip his ass-cheeks, shoving them together until it’s a vice around his cock and Dean feels him come inside him, hot loads of sticky come coating his passage that Sam fucks through, slicking the way. Eventually, Sam stops moving and Dean lets the waves of pleasure take him, floating away and letting his body drift loosely as his eyes drift shut.
Sam flips him over till he’s flat on his stomach, and Dean wants to protest when he feels hands on his hips, lifting them up until his ass is in the air. Dean almost jumps off the bed next. Sam’s tongue is at his abused hole, dark and stretched to fit Sam’s girth. It circles the red swollen rim languidly before stabbing inside him, fucking in and out.
“Aahh.” Dean cries into the mattress, unable to stop his hips from pressing back, fucking Sam’s face.
Sam’s lips close over the hole, and he starts to suck. Dean eyes roll up in his head when he feels Sam suck out his own come from his ass. Dean’s hard again, cock already leaking between his legs and fuck he’s never felt sex this intensely before. A part of that is doing it with someone he loves, making it mean something. Making it more pleasurable.
Sam’s flipping him over again, climbing up his body until his lips close over his, tongue snaking out to feed him his release and Dean takes it with a moan. Can smell himself all over Sam’s face; which glistens with saliva. His musk mixes with Sam’s and the taste of him and it’s all so fucking good. Dean can feel Sam’s dick bump incessantly against his and he’s hard again as well.
Sam looks down at Dean, and he feels better than he can ever remember feeling. It isn’t just because of the sex, though that’s a big part of it. It’s because he can finally look at Dean freely, without worrying if his eyes are giving away too much, or if he’s staring for too long. He can just…look. Appreciate. Love. He’s utterly open and exposed to Dean and Dean is giving as good as he’s getting. It’s all there. All written plainly on his face and Sam smiles with joy, wondering how he never saw it before. He doesn’t have to hide anymore. He can have this, and it’s a gift.
“How do you feel?” Sam asks tentatively and Dean grins.
“You fuck like a barbarian.” He mock-complains and Sam laughs.
“Yeah, well, you take it like a pro.”
“You’re about to watch me give it like a champ.” Dean reiterates and Sam’s entire body shudders at the very idea, let alone the visual he gets. Dean’s angry red cock fucking him deeper than anything ever could.
“I’m so onboard with that.” Sam whispers breathily, and Dean gives a sultry smile.
“Come here, Sammy.”
THE END
Author : Meigun-Blaze
Word Count : 7437
Pairing : Sam/Dean
Rating : NC-17
Warnings : Slight spoilers for 6x15
Authors Note : Sequel to "My Dirty Little Secret" which can be found here meigun-blaze.livejournal.com/810.html#cutid1 It might be confusing if you don’t read that first, but I guess this could stand alone. This Story was written for jackfan2 who suggested I should do a sequel. Here you go, Darling. I never expected it to get this long, so thank you. Without your comment, this story would not exist.
Summary : After coming back from the alternate universe they were sent to, Sam’s having more trouble than usual keeping his secret from Dean.
It’s an irrational fear. Like those dreams where you’re standing in front of a crowd buck-ass naked, only to wake up and frantically check that your clothes are; in fact, still on. That’s how Sam feels. Utterly exposed. As transparent as fine crystal, even though he knows that his dirty little secret is safe. He’s kept it to himself for so long, the idea of it getting out makes his palms sweaty, his throat dry, and his head ache.
Sam’s on edge and it’s obvious Dean can see it. He’s been giving him these suspicious looks lately that do nothing to help his paranoia.
He knows. It’s in his eyes, he knows everything.
Sam’s skin crawls and he forces the tiny voice whispering in his mind to shut the fuck up. Ever since the alternate universe thing…seeing those pictures, Sam’s been thrown. Doesn’t know how to behave anymore. What’s normal, what isn’t? Was he ever really normal, though? Christ, that just makes everything more confusing. He’s awkward around Dean. Stuttering over his words and tripping over his limbs like he’s the gangly teenager again that hasn’t yet grown into his body.
Dean just stares at him with narrowed calculated green eyes, trying to sum up the problem Sam’s got going on. Already trying to fix it. Usually that’s when Sam makes an excuse to run out of the room, and he knows it’s not making Dean any less curious, but fuck, what is he supposed to do?
It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.
Sam knows that thought is true, because he’s getting sloppy. Looking at Dean far longer than is normal, desire practically written all over his face as he watches his brother’s tongue swipe along his sinfully shaped lips to make them glisten with moisture. Damn, but he’s one sick puppy.
Dean can never know.
Sam is extra careful the next few days. Keeping just the right amount of distance between him and Dean. Looking when only appropriate and for a designated amount of time. No longer. He makes sure there are no brotherly touches of affection, or any type of affection, for that matter. Dean hasn’t said anything about the way he’s acting, and Sam counts that as a blessing, because it must mean he’s doing it right. Correctly. He can do this. He can get this under control again.
Do you even want to control it?
Shut. The. Fuck. Up!
Sam sucks in a shuddering breath, trying to shake the wrongness inside, out of his very soul. It’s only a matter of time before this all comes crashing down around him. He knows that. Doesn’t need confirmation from his fucking conscience. Dean knows him better than he knows himself. He’ll see it, if he hasn’t already. And soon, he’ll stop trying to rationalize it away, and that’s when the shit will really hit the fan, because Sam has no excuse, no defense against this. He can’t stop loving Dean the way he does. Can’t stop feeling this…
“Go to sleep, Sam. I can hear you thinking all the way over here.” Dean grumbles, turning in his blankets until he’s comfortable.
Sam’s heart pounds a mile a minute, just from the sound of Dean’s voice piercing the silence. Even when he doesn’t say a word, Dean still knows. Sam wont be able to keep his secret safe much longer. With this thought, he turns over and closes his eyes, prays for a dreamless night.
*
Dean gets touchy after that. Sam already knew that in their family, he was the one that used words to express his feelings. Dean was always the one who used his body. If you did something that made Dean grateful, he would move towards you in this way. Would almost crowd in your personal space, but not quite. He would lean in and you would just know that he was saying, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” It was all there, in the same sense as when he looked at Sam. There was so much love leaking out of his eyes giving away every emotion and Sam could read it all as easy as if they were words on a page.
You mean more than the world to me. I’d do anything for you. Don’t ever leave me, because I need you. You ARE my world.
Dean’s body spoke for him and it was driving Sam crazy.
Sam offered to go to the library and do the research on the troll they were hunting. He mostly did it to put some distance between them, but Dean hated research, and that’s the excuse he went with. When he came home late that night, eyes blurry from reading so much and body stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, Dean had come up behind him, talented hands squeezing along Sam’s shoulders to rub soothingly at his neck until his muscles had no choice but to uncurl and relax.
Sam almost choked on his own tongue, cock hardening embarrassingly fast at the touch and he sprang from his chair so quickly, it would’ve turned over if Dean hadn’t caught it. He ran away to the bathroom, shouting something over his shoulder about library smell and book musk before slamming the door on his own words.
The touch happened again when hustling pool in the same town, on the same case. a drunk biker and fellow hustler tried to make a swipe at Dean; who, of course, was the better con man. Sam had moved so fast, he was almost a blur, standing between his brother and danger, grabbing the man’s hand before it could follow through with the blow and try to mar Dean’s skin. In the back of his mind, that voice was laughing at him.
The strong warrior to the damsel’s rescue. You do know that Dean’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, right?
Shit.
“Tell your dog to heel before I put him down, boy.” The biker demanded, eyes still on Dean, like Sam wasn’t even there. Dean just smirked, moving forward until his front brushed Sam’s back, chin resting on Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s whole body tightened at the touch, fingers closing painfully around the man’s fist and the biker flinched.
“It looks to me like you better back off, before he puts you down.” Dean said and even though he couldn’t see him, Sam could hear the amused smile in his voice.
The man glared at Sam, but when he turned to look at Dean there was hatred there.
“Bunch of queers.” He growled, yanking his hand out of Sam’s grip and Sam let him go, staring after him in shock as he left the bar.
He knows. A stranger knows, and if he saw it than Dean’s going to see it. He’s going to see it in you and hate you-
“Come on, Sam. Let’s go home.” Dean urged softly, moving to stand beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and practically guiding him to the door and into the Impala, cause Sam was almost positive he couldn’t move without help now.
When they were back in the safety of the room, Sam was still shaking. Not from fear of discovery, but from a more primal emotion and one he was no stranger to. Over-protective mode. It always reminded him of those documentaries he watched on lions, when something wandered into their territory and threatened what was theirs. That’s exactly what he was feeling.
“You shouldn’t have provoked him Dean. That guy had friends. Did you see his vest? He rides in a gang and the way that sonofabitch looked at you-”
“Hey?” Dean interrupted, voice surprisingly soothing as he sat on the bed next to Sam. “I’m fine, okay? I knew what I was getting into and I could’ve handled it.” Dean reassured and Sam turned away. Dean wasn’t infallible. One day, he wouldn’t be there, and-
“Hey?” Dean said again, hand coming up to grip Sam’s chin and turn his face back until he had his eyes.
“Okay, you’re right. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have provoked him. It was an idiot move.”
Sam’s eyes widened so big that Dean couldn’t help but laugh.
“What? I know how to admit when I’m wrong.”
“Is this a new trick, cause I’ve never seen it before.”
Dean lightly hit the back of Sam’s head and even Sam couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
“Trick.” Dean muttered softly, shaking his head. “You’re the dog, remember?” Dean asked, and Sam did remember what that man had called him. Maybe it wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Thanks, by the way.” Dean said out of the blue and Sam cocked his head like a curious puppy.
“For what? Cramping your style?”
“For having my back.” Dean said seriously, and Sam’s body responded to the smoldering green color his eyes turned into whenever he was this intense.
“Always.” Sam whispered and he watched as Dean’s eyes changed again, into the bright emerald of a forest when he smiled, hand coming up to ruffle Sam’s hair, and Sam was done. That was enough touching for one day. He stood up quickly, already heading towards the shower when a thought stopped him in his tracks and he turned to look over his shoulder at Dean, who was still sitting on his bed.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“About?” Dean asked, absently picking a piece of lint off the ugly bedspread.
“When he called us- when he implied-”
“That we were fucking?”
Sam gave a spluttering cough and Dean threw back his head and laughed. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he saw his brother this happy, but it usually came at his expense.
“I doubt he would’ve listened long enough for me to explain to him our relationship, Sammy.” Dean answered, eyes suddenly glinting with the bright light of mischief.
“Besides, I didn’t see you going out of your way to deny it.”
Sam glared over his shoulder, but he knew his brother was telling the truth. He hadn’t said a fucking word.
“You’re such a jerk.” Sam muttered, continuing his trek towards the bathroom, when he heard Dean laugh again.
“Bitch.”
*
It tingles at the back of Sam’s mind, a constant annoyance, not unlike the voice that pipes up to put him in his place whenever he strays, and finally, Sam has to ask. Needs to know.
“Would you have been happier there?”
Dean’s on his own bed, cleaning out the guns meticulously. They know where the troll is now and only have to wait till nightfall before they can dispose of it for good. Take it out so it’ll never hurt anyone again. Dean doesn’t bother to look up, just continues to clean the barrel of his sawed-off shotgun.
“Happier where?”
“In that other reality. Where there’s no monsters or apocalypses. No angels and Demons. God or the Devil.” Sam explains and Dean lets go of a soft smile.
“Sounds kind of nice, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds completely normal.” Sam corrects and Dean sets the barrel down before giving him his attention.
“Exactly.”
“You hate normal, Dean!” Sam argues.
“Yeah, but you don’t, Sam!” Dean says, voice rising and he stands, too uncomfortable to sit and feel smaller than he does when he’s next to Sam. Dean rubs his fingers over his lips and Sam’s eyes trace the movement.
“I’m not naïve Sam, I know this is who I am. Who I’ll always be, I can’t change that. But in that other place? You had it all. The famous job, the huge fucking house! You even had Ruby, de-clawed and harmless. You could’ve been happy there-”
“That’s why you wanted to stay? Cause you thought I’d be happy? Not because it would’ve made you happy?” Sam asks, and Dean’s looking at him like he’s an idiot.
“Why else did you think I wanted to stay?”
Sam’s stomach flutters and he breathes a sigh of relief. He can’t stop himself from moving towards Dean, hands coming up to wrap his brother in a hug, chest shaking from the laughter bubbling up inside him.
“You’re so fucking stupid, Dean.” He laughs, unable to hold it in anymore.
“Hey!” Dean exclaims, hand coming up between them to lightly hit Sam’s chest.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You thought I’d be happier there, and you were willing to stay and be miserable. You’re so fucking dumb, man.” Sam says, laughing at his brother as he continues to hold him against his body. He knows that he’s breaking his own, “No touching,” rule, but he needs this now. Needs it more than anything. He would take the curse of his family, the demon blood, the deals and the pain. He’d take the angels and the demons. The apocalypse, heaven and hell. God and the Devil himself, as long as he could have this, right here.
Dean.
And when Dean’s own arms reach up to wrap around Sam, it’s more than worth it.
*
It’s bad. It reeks and it sticks and it’s fucking everywhere! Fucking horrible. Troll blood and guts and slime and whatever the hell else that had been in the thing’s cave, collecting over the years. Sam’s covered in it. Dean’s covered in it, but his brother would cut off a limb to make sure the Impala’s not covered in it.
“We’ll have to walk back.” He states, voice leaving no room for argument.
“Dean, it’s more than twenty miles!”
“So we better start now.”
Sam huffs in an undignified breath. He’s drenched in another creatures fluids and his brother wants him to walk over two dozen miles in the cold, smelling this shit?
“You’re being a fucking priss right now, I hope you know that.” Sam growls.
“Oh I’m sorry, Sam.” Dean says sarcastically. “Is it your car? No? Then shut the fuck up.”
Sam crosses his arms over his chest and cringes when they splatter in the goop that covers his shirt. Dean smirks openly at him, mouthing the word, ‘Karma.’
“This is ridiculous-”
“No, trying to get all this crap out of the upholstery would be ridiculous! And the smell alone wouldn’t come out. She’d never forgive me, Sam.” Dean yells, arms flailing around like they’ll convince him.
“I’m not going to forgive you if you make me walk to our motel room smelling like this.” Sam yells back, finger coming up to point accusingly at Dean, only to have more troll bits fall off his skin to land with a splat on the ground.
“Oh that’s fucking gross.”
Dean just laughs at him and Sam glares, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know why you find this so funny! You look just as bad as I do, and you have troll brains in your hair.”
Dean’s face immediately falls. “It’s in my hair! Aw, dude, why’d you tell me that?” Dean demands, hands coming up to feel the slick, mushy substance coating his scalp. “Fuck, this is nasty.”
Sam watches as Dean bends at the waist, desperately trying to shake the brain out of his matted locks.
“Come on, Dean. I want a shower, and you definitely need one. I saw on the map earlier that their should be a creek nearby. What do you say we dunk ourselves in that, get clean enough, lay down that old blanket we have in the trunk over the seats and drive to the motel?”
Sam can see Dean’s considering it. He really doesn’t want to walk all that way with this shit on his body, so he sighs and gives in.
“If I so much as smell troll on her after-”
“You wont.” Sam promises, eyeing his surroundings and judging how far the running creek should be.
“It’s this way.” He says confidently, heading northeast. Dean follows, muttering the whole time about guts and unsanitary jobs.
Sam finds the creek with not much difficulty. There’s even a soft bank of dirt, surrounded by smoothed out rocks to hold their things while they soak. Dean’s already undressing, carefully pulling his shirt over his head so he doesn’t get anymore troll on him.
“The smell is never coming out.” Dean says pathetically as he eyes the shirt. “I liked this one, too.”
Sam continues to watch, mouth wide open and probably drooling as Dean strips out of every article of clothing he’s wearing until he’s unashamedly bearing all to the world, God, and most importantly, Sam.
Dean gives him an awesome view of his ass as he walks straight into the water without pause, going deep enough until his whole body is submerged.
“F-fucking cold!” Dean yells, coming up spluttering. He gives Sam the up and down curiously. “You gonna get in, or stand there all night? Cause I’m not letting you in my car like that.”
Sam sighs and shakes his head before trying to remove his clothing with as much care as possible. He’s with his brother on this, the clothes are unsalvageable.
Sam strips naked as well, getting in the water quickly so Dean doesn’t see the hardness between his legs, but Dean’s too busy trying to wash brain out of his hair.
The water is a shock to Sam’s system. It makes his temperature drop and his body start to shake but at least he feels surprisingly cleaner.
“Aw, I feel like it’s in between the cracks!” Dean whines from somewhere to Sam’s right. Sam’s got his eyes closed, killing off the temptation to stare at his brother’s pale naked flesh. He meticulously washes himself until his skin is red with irritation. Sam swears he can still smell it.
“You’ve got something still.” Dean says, more closer than Sam expected and he can’t help but flinch, startled.
“Jeez, jumpy, aren’t we?” Dean asks, smile twitching at the corner of his bowed lips while he continues to swim closer, and Sam has the undeniable urge to run again. Dean’s naked under the water. He’s naked under the water!
Maybe you should take advantage of the situation.
Sam squeezes his eyes shut and physically shakes his head to try and get rid of the voice.
“Hold still so I can get it.” Dean orders, and Sam finds himself as still as a statue while Dean crowds in close, eyes zeroing in on the spot on his neck, just below his ear. Sam watches captivated when Dean sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking, getting it wet, even though he has a perfectly capable water source at his disposal, it makes this far more intimate.
Dean bites the corner of his lip into his mouth while he rubs his thumb maddeningly slow and sensual over the dark stain on Sam’s skin. His chest heaves and his air supply feels like it’s being drained as Dean keeps fucking rubbing!
You’re being too obvious! He’s going to see! He’s going to know!
“There.” Dean says, swimming away a little. “I hate to break it to you, but I think this is as good as we’re going to get without soap.” He says and Sam has no idea what the hell Dean’s talking about at first.
“Oh!” He shouts in realization and Dean frowns at him. “Right. Right, so…we should get out.” Sam finishes lamely and Dean just nods at him like he’s lost his mind.
“After you, Princess.” Dean motions and Sam grits his teeth at the pet name, but he exit’s the water first gratefully because it means he doesn’t have to stare at Dean’s naked body.
“Christ, it’s cold.” Sam chatters as the breeze picks up to caress against his dripping flesh. He can hear Dean getting out right behind him and they both head towards the rocks that hold their stuff.
“What are we going to do about the clothes?” Sam asks absently, more to fill the silence than anything else.
“Burn ‘em.” He hears Dean say and he forgets that he’s not supposed to look at him.
“What?!” He demands, eyes falling on Dean’s face first, before he lets them wander all over Dean’s naked skin. Dean doesn’t seem to notice his brother’s appreciation as he goes through his pant’s pockets.
“Burn them, Sam.” He repeats, finally looking up to notice Sam’s wide, Caught-in-the-headlights-eyes.
“What are we supposed to wear back to the car? All our clothes are at the motel room! We can’t just drive there naked, we’ll get charged with indecent exposure.” Sam argues, trying to put sense in his brother’s head, but Dean just looks more excited.
“It’ll be like a thrill.”
“Dean!” Sam yells. “Come on!” He continues softer, “Can’t we just…wash them in the creek? Get the goop off?”
Dean looks at him with narrowed eyes full of exasperation.
“You really think a soak in the creek will do these good? They’re stained beyond repair, they reek more now then they did before, and I’m pretty sure something in that troll is eating away the material.”
Sam takes another look at his ruined clothes, and sure enough, they’re disintegrating. Right. No clothes, then.
Very convenient.
Sam makes sure that his pockets are empty before throwing his clothes on the ground with Dean’s. Dean always keeps his lighter on him, so he sets the flame to the pile and it catches quick, as if they were drenched in gasoline. They watch it, making sure the fire doesn’t spread and don’t leave until the flames die down.
“Come on.” Dean says, grabbing his wallet, keys and lighter from the rock he set them on. Sam follows reluctantly. This sucks. Someone up there really hates him, because he’s hiking through the woods wet, naked, barefoot, and with his brother, who’s parading around naked in front of him too, and damn it, this isn’t the time to get a fucking boner!
By the time they emerge from the forest onto the soft road with the Impala gleaming in the distance, Sam and Dean’s feet are both covered in mud, dirt traveling up their legs to fade along the backs of their knees. And, oh yeah, Sam’s as hard as a fucking rock. Hand not very discretely trying to hide his dick.
Dean doesn’t glance behind him though, he practically runs the rest of the way to his car, keys jingling with each step. Sam power walks to the passenger side, using the Impala to hide his problem away. Dean’s petting her flank, whispering to her like a lover and Sam’s cock twitches against his stomach. Jesus Christ.
“Aw baby, the things I do for you.” Dean growls, voice gone husky. He rummages through the trunk until he finds that old blanket that they keep back there, just in case. Sam watches through his window as Dean maneuvers the blanket around over their seats, muscles rippling with each movement, dick swinging softly between his legs.
Shit.
Sam’s tongue traces his lips and his mouth waters, desperate for that cock down his throat.
Why don’t you tell Dean that? He might let you have a taste.
Sam sinks his teeth into the side of his cheek, using the pain as an anchor.
“Thanks for the help, asshole. You can get in now.” Dean grumbles from inside the car. Sam opens the door and gets in using the most awkward method possible, just so Dean wont get a glimpse of his front. He situates himself so his hard cock is trapped between his thighs and damn if he can’t help but think about Silence of the Lambs right now.
It’s easy to avoid other cars out in the middle of nowhere, but when they get back to the city, it’s damn near impossible. Dean gets stuck at a stoplight, which makes Sam’s heart pick up speed. They’ve been so lucky about dodging these so far, and another car inches up to wait beside them on Sam’s side.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look!
Sam can’t help but quietly chant this mantra, even as he stares at the guy blatantly out his window. The man has this self-satisfied smirk on his face, which falls when he feels the stare of another. Sam watches in horror as the guy slowly turns to look at him, noticing too late that the two men in the sweet ride next to his, are naked.
Dean; being Dean, of course, runs his hand down his own chest like an offering, and obviously, the guy freaks out. Sam watches as his eyes bug out, his face turns red, and his mouth drops open.
The man runs the red light, and not a second later, they both watch in disbelief as a cop zooms past them to chase the offender up the street with flashing lights.
Once the light turns green, Dean hightails it to the motel.
*
They’re in the dark parking lot of the motel, in the space that’s closest to their room; which, actually, isn’t very close at all, due to the fact that it’s just a leveled field about fifty feet away from the actual building. The car is shut off, and there doesn’t seem to be any people in sight.
Dean is still laughing.
“Did you see his face? Fucking priceless!” He says between huffed breaths of amusement. Sam glares as he watches out the window for any signs of life.
“You didn’t have to do what you did. Now he’s gonna give our descriptions to the cops.”
“Relax, little brother, the cop’ll never believe him. He’ll just think he’s trying to weasel his way out of a ticket.”
Sam sincerely hopes he’s right about that.
“Do you see anyone?” Sam demands, turning back toward him, and fuck, Dean’s dick is hard, bouncing against his flat belly.
“Jesus, Dean! What the hell?” Sam demands, more breathless than he’d care to admit. Dean’s cock is huge when full. Maybe as big as him, he’d have to measure-
Dean looks down at the leaking, swollen head and gives a sheepish smile.
“All the excitement, Sammy.” He says in way of explanation and Sam thinks he’s lost it.
“This isn’t exciting, Dean! This is a train wreck waiting to happen!”
“Eh. To each their own.” Dean mumbles, eyes searching the deserted parking lot.
“No one’s around. Lets go, Sam. Now!” Dean demands suddenly, springing from the car gracefully as Sam struggles with the door handle, practically falling over himself when he finally manages to get out. Dean’s there waiting, refusing to leave Sam behind, and together, they run towards their door, Dean scrabbling with his wallet to try and find the key card. Sam can’t help but feel ridiculous as his sight follows his brother, running ass-naked in some no-name city to a run down motel. It’s more than a little strange.
They get to the door and almost run straight into it with their speed and momentum, and Sam waits, more anxious now that he’s holding still than when he was running. Dean still hasn’t found the card.
“Dean, where’s the fucking key?” Sam demands in a hushed panicked whisper.
“Calm down, Sam, it’s in here.”
“Dean!” Sam presses. He can hear whistling coming from around the corner. It’s getting louder.
“Dean!” Sam says again when the door’s still not open.
“Don’t rush me, Sam!” Dean has the card finally, and he’s trying to fit it in the slot just right so the damn light turns green while Sam watches the corner where the whistling gets ever louder. Just as the man comes into view, Sam hears the click of the door opening and feels Dean’s hand on his shoulder, yanking him inside. The door slams with a bang, and him and Dean are tangled up together against the wall. They look at each other, disbelief in their eyes, and that’s when they start laughing, uncontrollably.
“This might be one of the strangest nights of my life.” Sam chokes between laughs, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “And that’s saying a lot.”
Dean’s in no better condition, body shaking with uncontained amusement.
“Fuck, that was fun.” He chuckles, and Sam can’t help but smile when Dean grins up at him.
“Looks like all the excitement got to you after all.” He suddenly says, and Sam’s confused before it dawns on him and his eyes widen in horror. His dick full, hard, and thick, nestled warmly up against Dean’s stomach, poking him and smearing precome on his skin. Sam gasps, untangling himself from Dean as quickly as he can, running towards the bathroom. He doesn’t bother with any sort of excuse this time. It’s all over anyways.
You can’t explain it away anymore. He knows now. Knows everything. Dean will probably never look at you the same way again. Well, that’s even if he can look at you at all.
Sam whimpers, masking the weak sound by turning on the shower and it rushes into the room, bouncing and echoing off the walls. Sam climbs in under the hot spray, water immediately going to work on all the dirt caked on his skin, washing it away in swirling clouds down the drain. Sam feels like he can relate to that, because he’s sure that he’s spiraling out of control, falling apart.
Dean knows!
Sam’s got water in his eyes, but he can still hear the shower curtain being moved aside as Dean steps in behind him. Sam tenses up. This is it. Dean couldn’t even stand to wait, he’s gonna punch him in the face, right here, right now. Sam doesn’t turn around, irrationally thinking that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t look at Dean. Doesn’t see the disgust in his emerald eyes.
“Scoot over, would ya? I smell like shit still, and I’m not waiting for you to hog up all the hot water before you get out.” Sam’s eyes snap open in disbelief, twisting around to face Dean so quickly, he almost trips over his limbs, but Dean catches and steadies him easily enough.
“Dean, I…what-”
“Sam, Sam, Sam.” Dean mutters, head shaking, hand moving down and Sam takes in a shuddering breath when he feels his brother’s fingers wrap tightly around his cock.
“You know, you’re not very good at hiding things from me, and you’re not as sneaky as you think.” Dean adds in mock disappointment. “I mean, come on, Sammy. All the lingering looks? The minor freak-outs whenever I touch you. The constant run to the showers.” Then he stops like he’s considering something. “And then there’s this.” He adds absently, fingers stroking Sam’s cock in such a delicious way, Sam shudders, eyes rolling up in his head.
“Nghn. Dean. Dean, please. Don’t play with me.” Sam begs, hoping like hell this isn‘t just some cruel joke.
“But Sam,” Dean argues, slipping in close until his lips brush over his ear. “All I want to do is play with you.”
Sam whimpers, can’t help it, and he just thrusts wildly into Dean’s hand. If this is some sort of dream or prank, he’s going to fucking enjoy it while he can.
“The first step is admitting it, Sam.” Dean chimes in, those lips that drive Sam crazy mouthing along his neck before sinking his teeth in, just enough to sting.
“You’ve wanted me for a long time, haven’t you?”
Fuck, yeah. So long, you have no idea. Longer than I can remember.
Sam can’t say all that. Can’t really even form words anymore. Instead, what comes out is a soft, “Mmm-hmm.” and his eyes open in time to see Dean’s satisfied smirk.
“Can you keep a secret?” Dean whispers, and Sam shudders at the dual sensations of the heat from the shower spray and the heat from Dean’s mouth hitting him at once.
“Yes! Yes, I can…keep a s-secret.” Sam chokes out and Dean’s grin widens.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, too.”
“Oh, God.” Sam cries, so close to coming, but Dean already knows, easily reading Sam’s reactions, and his fingers move down to the base of Sam’s dick, circling and adding just enough pressure to be painful and Sam feels his orgasms shrinking away.
“You didn’t let me finish.” Dean reprimands. “You can’t finish until I tell you what I came in here to tell you.”
“What-…what did you want to tell me?” Sam gasps out. Dean’s grin turns into a sexy smile, and Sam’s breath stutters.
“Well, I’ve decided that since you want me so bad, go ahead. Take me.”
Sam’s speechless, eyes wide, mouth hanging open like a fish.
“Dean, you can’t-”
“I can, and I’m going to, but first? We should really get cleaned up.”
Sam looks between them, and Dean’s right, they’re still filthy, but his body isn’t in the mood to respond, because-
Dean just said he could fuck him…right?
“Come on Sam, move your roll.” Dean demands, all bark, no bite. When Sam still can’t move, Dean sighs and sets about cleaning them both, which only helps to make Sam’s IQ drop that much more. Every time Sam tries to touch Dean, he slaps his hands away.
“Not yet, Sam.” He says and Sam thinks this is his own personal form of torture. Having Dean, yet not having Dean. The sound of the water cutting off is what finally shakes Sam out of it.
“Now?” Sam asks, hopeful as a puppy and Dean gives him that smile that makes his heart do funny things as he steps out of the shower.
“Now, Sam.” He answers, and Sam moves like a bullet, limbs finally finding their grace and stability as he climbs out of the shower and stalks towards Dean, charging him. He has just enough time to see the brief flash of panic in Dean’s eyes before they collide and Sam picks him up easily, Dean’s legs coming up to wrap around his waist and they slip against each other sensually from the water that still peppers their skin.
“Jesus, Sammy. You’re like a fucking bull.” Dean says in awe as Sam continues to move them from the bathroom, holding Dean up as if he weighed nothing. The demonstration of strength makes Dean’s dick jump eagerly against his belly, and Sam burns even more because he can feel it too.
He doesn’t make it to the bed, instead, he settles for the wall outside the bathroom door. He needs to feel Dean, touch him, fuck him. Right now!
“Get up there.” Sam growls, slamming Dean against the crumbling wallpaper and Dean stares at him in wonder, wrapping his legs more tightly around his waist. Sam leans in, not able to wait anymore and his mouth savagely claims his brother’s. He wants to learn those lips, every detail. The texture, the taste, the shape. Those fucking lips that he’d dreamed about. Could remember being in the fifth grade when his vulgar friend Alex had said, “I saw your brother yesterday down at the garage. Pretty, isn’t he? With those cock-sucker lips of his.”
Sam had punched Alex square in his own mouth for those comments, but it didn’t make him any better. He had already thought the same things, over and over again, and he was Dean’s brother. It didn’t mean he wanted somebody else to think it, though.
Sam breaks away and Dean’s panting, eyes glazed.
“Come on, Sam. Fuck me already.”
“You’re a little cock-slut, aren’t you? You ever let anyone else do this to you? Ever let anyone else shove their dick up your ass?” Dean’s moaning at Sam talking dirty, is lapping it up and humping against Sam like a bitch in heat.
“No, Sam. Never. Always you. Only you.” Dean promises and Sam can’t help but feel that jealous-possessive streak inside him roar with satisfaction.
“You belong to me, got that? If anyone ever touches you again, I’ll fucking kill them, Dean. You hear me?”
“Yes, Sammy! God, yes. Please? Do it already? Please?”
Sam shoves his fingers in his mouth, lathering them up with saliva as best as he can. It’s not nearly enough lubrication, and he knows it wouldn’t take much to retrieve the bottle of lotion in his bag, or something. But a part of him, wants Dean to hurt. Not because he wants to cause his brother pain. Never. He just wants Dean to feel him for days. Even after this is over, no matter how it plays out, he still wants Dean to remember. To feel him always, right there. Inside.
Sam’s hand reaches down, fingers wriggling in between Dean’s cheeks to languidly circle his quivering hole. Dean sucks in a breath, body arching off the wall as Sam’s finger slowly sinks inside all that tight heavenly heat. How the fuck did he survive so long without this. Dean’s exquisite in every way.
“More.” Dean begs, desperately trying to get that finger deeper inside him. Sam obliges, adding in a second finger and withdrawing them both only to shove back in, fucking Dean faster and harder and Dean mewls, long thick lashes fluttering against his pale, freckled cheeks.
“Dean?” Sam begs. “I can’t wait any longer! Please? I have to be inside you now.”
“Fuck yes.” Dean grants him permission and Sam tears his fingers out, drawing a startled squeal from Dean before he’s lining up his dick with Dean’s stretched hole. He’s bigger than his fingers. Way bigger, and he prays that he’s not about to fuck this whole thing up.
Sam lifts Dean a little higher along the wall before he slowly lets him sink down, impaling that tight heat to stretch wide, accommodating Sam’s monster cock. Sam shudders, unable to hold back and he lets Dean’s body go, gravity doing it’s job and Dean falls with a cry the rest of the way down, swallowing Sam’s dick like he was born to.
“Oh my God, Dean.” Sam huffs out, muscles twitching, chest heaving. “You’re so fucking tight.” Sam can feel it, the tight heat of Dean’s hole fitting around him like a glove and it’s almost painful.
“Gaah!” Dean yells through clenched teeth, head thrown back to thump against the wall. Sam needs Dean to enjoy this, but to do that, he’s going to have to loosen him up inside first. Sam starts moving, small circles with his hips at first before he shallowly thrusts up into that hole.
“Fuck.” He groans. It feels better and tighter than any girl he’s ever been with. Already he can honestly say Dean’s the best lay he’s ever had, and Dean isn’t even doing anything.
Sam moves in closer, pinning Dean against the wall with his body and he shifts to change the angle before fucking up into it and Dean suddenly draws tight, spasms wrack through him and Sam can feel the rim of his entrance fluttering excitedly around his cock in the most delicious way.
“Hmm. Sam? Do that again.” Dean begs, and Sam smirks.
“Yeah, Dean? You like that?” Sam asks and he thrusts again, nailing Dean’s prostate with ease and Dean’s back bows off the wall.
“Fuck, Sam, keep going.” Dean demands, and Sam takes this up a notch, pulling out of Dean only to pound back in with deep hard thrust, mercilessly fucking him into the wall.
Dean squeezes his eyes shut, the sensations too sharp and raw, but Sam wants to see them. See just exactly what shade of green Dean’s eyes turn while he’s getting fucked.
“Open ‘em, Dean. Need to see you. Need you to see what I’m doing to you.” Sam orders and Dean’s eyes flutter open. They’re a deep jade color, and Sam’s hands fly out to grip Dean’s, holding them along the sides of his head against the wall. The only thing keeping Dean there is Sam’s body and Dean’s own legs wrapped around Sam.
“God, Dean. I knew how good-looking you were, but the way you look when you’re being fucked? Jesus, I wish you could have that all the time. Wish I could fuck you all the time.” Sam moans and Dean echoes the noise.
Sam’s hips snap wildly, fucking like a beast and the way Dean just takes it all? It’s almost too much.
“Sammy?” Dean lets out on a whimper, and Dean looks so scared because he’s being unraveled, coming undone.
“It’s okay, Dean. I’m right here. You gonna come, baby?” And Dean’s nodding emphatically. Sam moves off of the wall then, and Dean lets out a small noise of surprise as he’s carried to the bed, Sam’s dick moving inside him with each step. Sam lays him out on the bed carefully, like a blushing-bride-to-be, and Dean feels desperate. Needy.
“Sam, come on!” Dean begs, wiggling on the end of Sam’s cock.
“Gonna fuck you good, Dean. It’s gonna be so good.” Sam promises, hips snapping back again before shoving forward with thrusts so powerful, Dean’s sure he can feel Sam’s cock in the back of his throat.
“Love you like this, Dean. So fucking gone you’re begging for it. Such a good little whore for my cock, baby.” Sam goes to town. Pounding away at Dean’s ass like a jackhammer, and Dean’s so close his cock leaks profusely, swelling up thicker and fatter than it ever his before. All it really needs is one touch, one…little…touch…
“Come for me, Dean.”
And just like that, the world whites out as Dean shoots his load all over himself. Sam fucks him through it, continuously hitting his prostate and Dean continues to spurt, dick twitching with the effort, he’s dry, nothing left to give but he’s still coming. Shooting blanks.
Sam’s hands grip his ass-cheeks, shoving them together until it’s a vice around his cock and Dean feels him come inside him, hot loads of sticky come coating his passage that Sam fucks through, slicking the way. Eventually, Sam stops moving and Dean lets the waves of pleasure take him, floating away and letting his body drift loosely as his eyes drift shut.
Sam flips him over till he’s flat on his stomach, and Dean wants to protest when he feels hands on his hips, lifting them up until his ass is in the air. Dean almost jumps off the bed next. Sam’s tongue is at his abused hole, dark and stretched to fit Sam’s girth. It circles the red swollen rim languidly before stabbing inside him, fucking in and out.
“Aahh.” Dean cries into the mattress, unable to stop his hips from pressing back, fucking Sam’s face.
Sam’s lips close over the hole, and he starts to suck. Dean eyes roll up in his head when he feels Sam suck out his own come from his ass. Dean’s hard again, cock already leaking between his legs and fuck he’s never felt sex this intensely before. A part of that is doing it with someone he loves, making it mean something. Making it more pleasurable.
Sam’s flipping him over again, climbing up his body until his lips close over his, tongue snaking out to feed him his release and Dean takes it with a moan. Can smell himself all over Sam’s face; which glistens with saliva. His musk mixes with Sam’s and the taste of him and it’s all so fucking good. Dean can feel Sam’s dick bump incessantly against his and he’s hard again as well.
Sam looks down at Dean, and he feels better than he can ever remember feeling. It isn’t just because of the sex, though that’s a big part of it. It’s because he can finally look at Dean freely, without worrying if his eyes are giving away too much, or if he’s staring for too long. He can just…look. Appreciate. Love. He’s utterly open and exposed to Dean and Dean is giving as good as he’s getting. It’s all there. All written plainly on his face and Sam smiles with joy, wondering how he never saw it before. He doesn’t have to hide anymore. He can have this, and it’s a gift.
“How do you feel?” Sam asks tentatively and Dean grins.
“You fuck like a barbarian.” He mock-complains and Sam laughs.
“Yeah, well, you take it like a pro.”
“You’re about to watch me give it like a champ.” Dean reiterates and Sam’s entire body shudders at the very idea, let alone the visual he gets. Dean’s angry red cock fucking him deeper than anything ever could.
“I’m so onboard with that.” Sam whispers breathily, and Dean gives a sultry smile.
“Come here, Sammy.”
THE END