My Brother's Keeper, Part 14 - Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Fourteen( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 089 Flood
Word Count: 2691
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. Babies and demons and blood and come...The floodgates open, and Sam starts to break under the pressure...
This is my thirty-third ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Dean was the first to emerge, slipping down the stairs as quiet as he could in the early morning. He smelled coffee and was following the smell. His heart skipped a little when he paused by Dana’s playpen and she wasn’t there, but he could hear Missouri in the kitchen, talking and humming, and he swallowed the panic.
“Coffee’s on the counter. Breakfast be ready in a minute.” Missouri said without looking up from the stove. Dana was in her left arm, gurgling away like she was talking and Missouri smiled at her. “Your baby girl is quite the talker.”
Dean smiled and took his coffee to the table before reaching for Dana. “Yes, she does go on.” He got Dana in his arms and turned her to face him, and got a wet, open mouthed kiss that covered his entire nose. “Someone’s gonna have to teach you how to kiss without slobbering, little girl.” He said as he sat down, wiping his face on his sleeve.
“That would be you, Daddy.” Missouri said and Dean groaned.
“I don’t think I’m ever getting used to that.”
“Course you will. You just wait until she starts using words you can understand…and she calls you Daddy for the first time. It will melt even your cynical ole heart.”
Dean moved his coffee and sat Dana on the table, her diaper crinkling as she moved her feet, almost swinging them between the table and Dean. Her little hands grabbed at his sleeves and slapped at his nose and she giggled. Dean couldn’t help but smile and kiss her cheek. “What?” he asked defensively as Missouri put a plate of eggs beside them with a smile.
“Nothing. You’re just too adorable.”
“I’m not adorable…Okay, I am…but stop.”
“You are not the tough guy you make yourself out to be Dean Winchester, and you and I both know it.” She brought her own plate to the table and sat down.
“Are we gonna do this now?” Dean asked, his face going serious and nervousness creeping into his voice.
“No time like the present.” Missouri countered, adjusting her seat a little. “Now let’s start with the wee one, shall we?”
Dean pulled Dana into his lap almost defensively. “What about her?”
Missouri shook her head. “You’re going to have your hands full with this one, child. She’s got power, goes way beyond what Sam’s got. She’s seventh generation Winchester.”
“What kind of…what are we talking about here?” Dean sipped at his coffee and tried to keep it out of Dana’s reach.
Missouri shook her head. “Can’t be certain how it will manifest, but certainly she’ll have the dreams, the visions.”
“Sam said something about moving things and fire starting.”
She chuckled. “Yes, yes….it’s entirely possible. But, she’s a good baby. She misses her mama, but knows you’ll protect her.”
Dean snorted. “She tell you that?”
Missouri looked offended. “Just because you can’t understand her when she talks to you doesn’t mean all of us are in the dark.” She huffed for a minute and ate in silence. “Now, let’s talk about you.”
Dean’s face paled and he shifted Dana a little more to his right so that he could reach his food. “I was wondering when you’d do that.”
“Want to tell me? Or should I just have a go?”
“You’re the psychic.”
She “hmmphed” and shook her head. “He’s got you pretty messed up in the head, don’t he? That’s a pretty powerful compulsion he laid on you. How you handling it?”
Dean brushed a kiss over Dana’s hair. “I’m not. Not really. We tried reversing it, used holy water and…but nothing really works. He…he doesn’t really use it…he could.”
“He wants to. There’s something he wants from you and he’s tempted. But so far he’s resisted.”
Dean sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with him. I don’t know why he’s behaving like he is. I can’t tell when he’s telling the truth. Damn, he played me. I’ve never been played like that.” He closed his eyes and sighed again.
“Listen with your heart, Dean. You’ll know the truth when you see it.” She ate quietly for a while, then looked up at him. “The compulsion is so strong because it isn’t necessarily something you don’t want. That’s how he pulled you in. He’s an intuitive, Dean, senses what people want, and gives it to them. That’s how he survived all this time in that place.”
Dean went still, looking up at her. “What place? What are you talking about?”
“Not my place to say. You need to talk to him.”
“He won’t tell me anything about before.”
“Have you tried?”
Dean sighed in exasperation and stood. “He tried to get me to kill my father. He hexed me into obedience. He screwed-around with my head. He lies. He cheats. He was flipping raised by demons, Missouri.”
“Have you talked to him?”
Dean deflated. “No.”
“Give me that baby and go talk to him. He may be ready.”
Dean didn’t ask, didn’t argue, just handed Dana back to Missouri and left the kitchen. His father was still asleep on the couch as he slipped past and headed up the stairs. He paused outside Sam’s door and raised his hand to knock. “Sam?” he said softly as he knocked and twisted the knob. The bed was empty, looked like it hadn’t even been used. Dean closed the door and let his eyes adjust to the half-light of the room.
Sam was on the floor near the closet, folded up on himself, his head on his knees. His eyes looked haunted, dark. Something in his expression made him look like he was just a kid. “Sam?”
He stiffened and Dean started. “Its okay. I can…come back later.”
“Don’t…don’t go.” Sam’s voice was small and broken and even without a compulsion to keep him from moving, Dean didn’t think he could leave.
“Okay.” He moved to sit next to Sam, sliding down the wall.
“I-I couldn’t sleep.” Dean didn’t really have anything to say, so he waited. Sam looked like he had been crying at some point, his eyes rimmed in red and puffy. “The memory…the…” Sam shook his head and turned it away. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sorry.”
“For what Sam?” Dean tried to keep his voice gentle, lifting one hand to touch the younger man’s shoulder.
“I can’t…I…you must hate me. I would hate me. I do hate me.”
Dean shook his head and let his hand slide down Sam’s back, rubbing lightly. “I don’t…hate you…how could I? Look at you. Even if you weren’t my brother…you’re too pretty to hate.”
Sam turned his face back, hope lighting in his eyes. Dean felt himself hardening and kicked himself. That wasn’t what he was here for. He had to turn this around. “Do you want to talk?”
Sam shook his head, and sighed. “I haven’t…remembered in a long time. I blocked it, hid it…when I learned how to…” He sighed again. “I’m not making any sense.”
“Its okay, Sam. We can just…sit, if you want.”
Sam nodded, leaning against Dean’s touch. Dean inhaled and tried to calm the sudden rush of need flowing through him. Sam’s head settled onto his shoulder. Without thinking, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head. It was quiet then, the sound of breathing, the weight of Sam’s head, the rhythm of Dean’s hand. When Sam turned to kiss him, Dean didn’t even react…not until he felt Sam’s tongue on his lip. Dean pulled back, head banging against the wall. “Sam. Please.”
“Want to.” Sam said, sounding as much like a petulant child as a man whose hand was finding its way to his cock could.
Dean’s hand closed over Sam’s as it cupped Dean’s groin. “Sam. No.”
Sam nuzzled into Dean’s neck, his fingers playing along the seam of Dean’s jeans. Dean’s hand tightened around Sam’s wrist and pulling it away. Sam’s lips closed over Dean’s again and he could feel his resistance fading.
Sam’s hands cupped his face as he straddled Dean’s legs, his tongue dipping in to Dean’s mouth. His lips pulled on Dean’s as he ended the kiss, his forehead pressed to Dean’s as he breathed across his skin. “Dean.”
Dean’s hands finally moved up to Sam’s hips, pushing at him. “No Sam. No. We can’t. We can’t.”
Sam stiffened on his lap. “Yes, we can. Please, baby. I need to touch you.”
Dean groaned and pulled away, as much as the wall allowed. “Sam…” He rolled his eyes, feeling his body respond, despite his words. Sam’s hands pushed at his shirt, pushing it up enough to get his hands underneath. Dean groaned again.
“Let me.” Dean murmured, pulling the shirt off and tossing it aside. “Slow down.” He kissed Sam, tasting him and pulling him closer with a hand behind Sam’s head.
Sam pulled back, a fight in his eyes. His face was suddenly hard. “What?”
“I’m in control.” Sam whispered, shivering. “Always in control.”
“Sam…I’m not-“
Sam’s kiss was harsh then, more teeth than lips, pushing Dean’s head into the wall. His hands pressed down Dean’s chest, almost painful. When he pulled back from the kiss Dean shook his head. “I’m not trying to take it from you Sam.” Dean whispered. Something in the look in Sam’s eyes scared him. He stroked his hands over Sam’s face. “Sammy?”
Sam shook his head. His body shook as a flood of memory exploded in his head. “No.” He kissed Dean again, teeth nipping on lips and tongue forcing its way inside, as if taking what he wanted would push the flood back, take away the hurt, tuck the memory back inside its box where he didn’t have to know.
Sam pulled away, not looking at Dean. “Get naked,” he ordered harshly, knowing Dean would comply, knowing and needing even as a part of him hated himself for it. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was soft, caring and Sam shook his head.
“Shut up. Just do it.”
He didn’t watch, just turned away, shucking the sweatpants, his cock hard and red and closed his mind to the memory of the time he hadn’t been in control. “Come here, Dean.” Dean’s skin was hot under his hand, hot and starting to sweat and Sam refused to look at his face, refused to acknowledge what he is doing as he palmed Dean’s cock, feeling it swell in his hand. “That’s it. Want you. Want to fuck you. Want your mouth on me.”
His hands pushed Dean to his knees. Dean waited, didn’t speak, just looked up at him and Sam couldn’t look, couldn’t see…He closed his eyes. “Open your mouth Dean.” He thrust in almost before Dean complied, sliding into the hot wetness with a groan. “So hot.”
He wouldn’t last long, not like this…he pushed harder and Dean groaned. Sam cried out as the sensation traveled up his cock, into his body. His eyes slipped to Dean’s face and he regretted it as the walls crashed around him and he could feel himself in Dean’s place, feel the fear and pain and shame and Sam pulled out, pulled away, stumbling back until his knees hit the bed and he crashed down onto it.
Sam rolled into a ball, holding his cock with both hands, his face red with the effort to keep from crying, to keep from remembering.
“Sam?”
Dean’s voice was soft, cold against the heat of his skin and Sam shook his head. Dean’s hand touched his back, stroking down his spine. “Sam…are you okay?” Kisses followed fingers and Sam jerked away from the tenderness of it.
“No…no…just…god, I’m sorry. Dean….” Sam rolled over, grabbing Dean’s hands and holding them.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Dean kissed him lightly. “It’s okay.”
Sam shook his head. “No...no…I didn’t, I shouldn’t…its why, why I’m in control….so I don’t have to remember…why I don’t…” He shuddered.
Dean knelt beside the bed, letting Sam hold his hands. “You don’t have to, Sam.”
Sam nodded, then shook his head, opening his eyes. “I was…they used demons to punish me. When I was little, it was the closet.” His stomach twisted as he remembered. “But…I-when I was older-“ His voice cracked as it flooded into him, the night he had first stood up to his father, when he had fought back…the beating had been bad enough…but then he’d watched his father open himself up to the demon, watched his eyes go black…and Sam shuddered, tears streaming unchecked…
Dean climbed up next to him on the bed, gathering him up in gentle arms. Sam let Dean settle his head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me, Sam.”
Sam nestled closer. “She told me that if I keep it all inside it will kill me,” he said softly. He wiped tears away and took a deep breath. “I’ve locked it away. I buried it. I didn’t know how else to handle it. And I…I became…I dominated everyone else, to find the power he took away.”
He was quiet for a moment, weighing the need to hide it away again, and the desperate need he felt for Dean to love him, to want him. He wasn’t even sure when it had become so powerful. Slowly, he sat up. “Can I trust you, Dean?”
Dean stilled, his hand on Sam’s thigh. “I would never hurt you Sam, not…without reason.”
Sam shook his head. “No…that isn’t what I meant. I have to…say it…I have to…” He blew out a long breath and closed his eyes. “I was thirteen the first time. I was home from school for the Christmas break. It was my first year away and I came back determined not to let him push me around anymore.”
Dean’s hand caressed his thigh as he spoke and Sam closed his eyes. “I don’t even remember what the fight was about. But I remember I looked him in the eye. I never did that. He hit me. Knocked me down.” Sam’s voice was more of a drone, as he disconnected from the memory, his face slack and pale. “We were in the hall, and he dragged me down to the temple room. I knew I was in more trouble than before. He never let me in there.”
Sam shifted, remembering the heat in the room, the smell of sulfur, the taste of blood in his mouth. “I was already tall, almost as tall as he was. I fought back at first, but it only made it worse. I thought the closet was bad. I have scars…but this was worse. I could tell the demons in the room weren’t the same as the ones in the closet. These were…stronger, older…and then he was mumbling Latin and he opened his mouth, and they just…went into him.”
Sam rubbed his hands together, looking off into the corner of the room. “He told me…told me he didn’t have to make my life so easy…didn’t have to give me anything more than what kept me alive. He…he used my mouth that day. Called me a…called me names.”
“God, Sam…” Dean sat up, his hand brushing gently over Sam’s tear soaked face. “Sam…I’m so sorry…I…god, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you don’t hate me.” Sam’s green eyes were watery and bright as they met Dean’s. “Tell me…you won’t…won’t leave me.”
Dean leaned forward, his lips brushing over Sam’s tenderly. “Not going anywhere. You are safe here. I promise you.” He let his hand brush down over Sam’s shoulder, down to his thigh. “Lay down, Sam. You should rest…sleep.”
Sam nodded, letting Dean guide him back down to lay with his head on the pillow. Dean moved as if to get up, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Stay?”
Dean looked down at him for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Slide over.” Sam made room and Dean settled in beside him. “I’m right here, Sammy.” Sam sighed and curled into Dean, his head on Dean’s chest, his breathe stuttering over Dean’s skin. “Right here. Sleep.”
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Fourteen( Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 089 Flood
Word Count: 2691
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. Babies and demons and blood and come...The floodgates open, and Sam starts to break under the pressure...
This is my thirty-third ficlet for my Supernatural claim on 100_situations. Clicky for table
Dean was the first to emerge, slipping down the stairs as quiet as he could in the early morning. He smelled coffee and was following the smell. His heart skipped a little when he paused by Dana’s playpen and she wasn’t there, but he could hear Missouri in the kitchen, talking and humming, and he swallowed the panic.
“Coffee’s on the counter. Breakfast be ready in a minute.” Missouri said without looking up from the stove. Dana was in her left arm, gurgling away like she was talking and Missouri smiled at her. “Your baby girl is quite the talker.”
Dean smiled and took his coffee to the table before reaching for Dana. “Yes, she does go on.” He got Dana in his arms and turned her to face him, and got a wet, open mouthed kiss that covered his entire nose. “Someone’s gonna have to teach you how to kiss without slobbering, little girl.” He said as he sat down, wiping his face on his sleeve.
“That would be you, Daddy.” Missouri said and Dean groaned.
“I don’t think I’m ever getting used to that.”
“Course you will. You just wait until she starts using words you can understand…and she calls you Daddy for the first time. It will melt even your cynical ole heart.”
Dean moved his coffee and sat Dana on the table, her diaper crinkling as she moved her feet, almost swinging them between the table and Dean. Her little hands grabbed at his sleeves and slapped at his nose and she giggled. Dean couldn’t help but smile and kiss her cheek. “What?” he asked defensively as Missouri put a plate of eggs beside them with a smile.
“Nothing. You’re just too adorable.”
“I’m not adorable…Okay, I am…but stop.”
“You are not the tough guy you make yourself out to be Dean Winchester, and you and I both know it.” She brought her own plate to the table and sat down.
“Are we gonna do this now?” Dean asked, his face going serious and nervousness creeping into his voice.
“No time like the present.” Missouri countered, adjusting her seat a little. “Now let’s start with the wee one, shall we?”
Dean pulled Dana into his lap almost defensively. “What about her?”
Missouri shook her head. “You’re going to have your hands full with this one, child. She’s got power, goes way beyond what Sam’s got. She’s seventh generation Winchester.”
“What kind of…what are we talking about here?” Dean sipped at his coffee and tried to keep it out of Dana’s reach.
Missouri shook her head. “Can’t be certain how it will manifest, but certainly she’ll have the dreams, the visions.”
“Sam said something about moving things and fire starting.”
She chuckled. “Yes, yes….it’s entirely possible. But, she’s a good baby. She misses her mama, but knows you’ll protect her.”
Dean snorted. “She tell you that?”
Missouri looked offended. “Just because you can’t understand her when she talks to you doesn’t mean all of us are in the dark.” She huffed for a minute and ate in silence. “Now, let’s talk about you.”
Dean’s face paled and he shifted Dana a little more to his right so that he could reach his food. “I was wondering when you’d do that.”
“Want to tell me? Or should I just have a go?”
“You’re the psychic.”
She “hmmphed” and shook her head. “He’s got you pretty messed up in the head, don’t he? That’s a pretty powerful compulsion he laid on you. How you handling it?”
Dean brushed a kiss over Dana’s hair. “I’m not. Not really. We tried reversing it, used holy water and…but nothing really works. He…he doesn’t really use it…he could.”
“He wants to. There’s something he wants from you and he’s tempted. But so far he’s resisted.”
Dean sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with him. I don’t know why he’s behaving like he is. I can’t tell when he’s telling the truth. Damn, he played me. I’ve never been played like that.” He closed his eyes and sighed again.
“Listen with your heart, Dean. You’ll know the truth when you see it.” She ate quietly for a while, then looked up at him. “The compulsion is so strong because it isn’t necessarily something you don’t want. That’s how he pulled you in. He’s an intuitive, Dean, senses what people want, and gives it to them. That’s how he survived all this time in that place.”
Dean went still, looking up at her. “What place? What are you talking about?”
“Not my place to say. You need to talk to him.”
“He won’t tell me anything about before.”
“Have you tried?”
Dean sighed in exasperation and stood. “He tried to get me to kill my father. He hexed me into obedience. He screwed-around with my head. He lies. He cheats. He was flipping raised by demons, Missouri.”
“Have you talked to him?”
Dean deflated. “No.”
“Give me that baby and go talk to him. He may be ready.”
Dean didn’t ask, didn’t argue, just handed Dana back to Missouri and left the kitchen. His father was still asleep on the couch as he slipped past and headed up the stairs. He paused outside Sam’s door and raised his hand to knock. “Sam?” he said softly as he knocked and twisted the knob. The bed was empty, looked like it hadn’t even been used. Dean closed the door and let his eyes adjust to the half-light of the room.
Sam was on the floor near the closet, folded up on himself, his head on his knees. His eyes looked haunted, dark. Something in his expression made him look like he was just a kid. “Sam?”
He stiffened and Dean started. “Its okay. I can…come back later.”
“Don’t…don’t go.” Sam’s voice was small and broken and even without a compulsion to keep him from moving, Dean didn’t think he could leave.
“Okay.” He moved to sit next to Sam, sliding down the wall.
“I-I couldn’t sleep.” Dean didn’t really have anything to say, so he waited. Sam looked like he had been crying at some point, his eyes rimmed in red and puffy. “The memory…the…” Sam shook his head and turned it away. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sorry.”
“For what Sam?” Dean tried to keep his voice gentle, lifting one hand to touch the younger man’s shoulder.
“I can’t…I…you must hate me. I would hate me. I do hate me.”
Dean shook his head and let his hand slide down Sam’s back, rubbing lightly. “I don’t…hate you…how could I? Look at you. Even if you weren’t my brother…you’re too pretty to hate.”
Sam turned his face back, hope lighting in his eyes. Dean felt himself hardening and kicked himself. That wasn’t what he was here for. He had to turn this around. “Do you want to talk?”
Sam shook his head, and sighed. “I haven’t…remembered in a long time. I blocked it, hid it…when I learned how to…” He sighed again. “I’m not making any sense.”
“Its okay, Sam. We can just…sit, if you want.”
Sam nodded, leaning against Dean’s touch. Dean inhaled and tried to calm the sudden rush of need flowing through him. Sam’s head settled onto his shoulder. Without thinking, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head. It was quiet then, the sound of breathing, the weight of Sam’s head, the rhythm of Dean’s hand. When Sam turned to kiss him, Dean didn’t even react…not until he felt Sam’s tongue on his lip. Dean pulled back, head banging against the wall. “Sam. Please.”
“Want to.” Sam said, sounding as much like a petulant child as a man whose hand was finding its way to his cock could.
Dean’s hand closed over Sam’s as it cupped Dean’s groin. “Sam. No.”
Sam nuzzled into Dean’s neck, his fingers playing along the seam of Dean’s jeans. Dean’s hand tightened around Sam’s wrist and pulling it away. Sam’s lips closed over Dean’s again and he could feel his resistance fading.
Sam’s hands cupped his face as he straddled Dean’s legs, his tongue dipping in to Dean’s mouth. His lips pulled on Dean’s as he ended the kiss, his forehead pressed to Dean’s as he breathed across his skin. “Dean.”
Dean’s hands finally moved up to Sam’s hips, pushing at him. “No Sam. No. We can’t. We can’t.”
Sam stiffened on his lap. “Yes, we can. Please, baby. I need to touch you.”
Dean groaned and pulled away, as much as the wall allowed. “Sam…” He rolled his eyes, feeling his body respond, despite his words. Sam’s hands pushed at his shirt, pushing it up enough to get his hands underneath. Dean groaned again.
“Let me.” Dean murmured, pulling the shirt off and tossing it aside. “Slow down.” He kissed Sam, tasting him and pulling him closer with a hand behind Sam’s head.
Sam pulled back, a fight in his eyes. His face was suddenly hard. “What?”
“I’m in control.” Sam whispered, shivering. “Always in control.”
“Sam…I’m not-“
Sam’s kiss was harsh then, more teeth than lips, pushing Dean’s head into the wall. His hands pressed down Dean’s chest, almost painful. When he pulled back from the kiss Dean shook his head. “I’m not trying to take it from you Sam.” Dean whispered. Something in the look in Sam’s eyes scared him. He stroked his hands over Sam’s face. “Sammy?”
Sam shook his head. His body shook as a flood of memory exploded in his head. “No.” He kissed Dean again, teeth nipping on lips and tongue forcing its way inside, as if taking what he wanted would push the flood back, take away the hurt, tuck the memory back inside its box where he didn’t have to know.
Sam pulled away, not looking at Dean. “Get naked,” he ordered harshly, knowing Dean would comply, knowing and needing even as a part of him hated himself for it. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was soft, caring and Sam shook his head.
“Shut up. Just do it.”
He didn’t watch, just turned away, shucking the sweatpants, his cock hard and red and closed his mind to the memory of the time he hadn’t been in control. “Come here, Dean.” Dean’s skin was hot under his hand, hot and starting to sweat and Sam refused to look at his face, refused to acknowledge what he is doing as he palmed Dean’s cock, feeling it swell in his hand. “That’s it. Want you. Want to fuck you. Want your mouth on me.”
His hands pushed Dean to his knees. Dean waited, didn’t speak, just looked up at him and Sam couldn’t look, couldn’t see…He closed his eyes. “Open your mouth Dean.” He thrust in almost before Dean complied, sliding into the hot wetness with a groan. “So hot.”
He wouldn’t last long, not like this…he pushed harder and Dean groaned. Sam cried out as the sensation traveled up his cock, into his body. His eyes slipped to Dean’s face and he regretted it as the walls crashed around him and he could feel himself in Dean’s place, feel the fear and pain and shame and Sam pulled out, pulled away, stumbling back until his knees hit the bed and he crashed down onto it.
Sam rolled into a ball, holding his cock with both hands, his face red with the effort to keep from crying, to keep from remembering.
“Sam?”
Dean’s voice was soft, cold against the heat of his skin and Sam shook his head. Dean’s hand touched his back, stroking down his spine. “Sam…are you okay?” Kisses followed fingers and Sam jerked away from the tenderness of it.
“No…no…just…god, I’m sorry. Dean….” Sam rolled over, grabbing Dean’s hands and holding them.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Dean kissed him lightly. “It’s okay.”
Sam shook his head. “No...no…I didn’t, I shouldn’t…its why, why I’m in control….so I don’t have to remember…why I don’t…” He shuddered.
Dean knelt beside the bed, letting Sam hold his hands. “You don’t have to, Sam.”
Sam nodded, then shook his head, opening his eyes. “I was…they used demons to punish me. When I was little, it was the closet.” His stomach twisted as he remembered. “But…I-when I was older-“ His voice cracked as it flooded into him, the night he had first stood up to his father, when he had fought back…the beating had been bad enough…but then he’d watched his father open himself up to the demon, watched his eyes go black…and Sam shuddered, tears streaming unchecked…
Dean climbed up next to him on the bed, gathering him up in gentle arms. Sam let Dean settle his head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me, Sam.”
Sam nestled closer. “She told me that if I keep it all inside it will kill me,” he said softly. He wiped tears away and took a deep breath. “I’ve locked it away. I buried it. I didn’t know how else to handle it. And I…I became…I dominated everyone else, to find the power he took away.”
He was quiet for a moment, weighing the need to hide it away again, and the desperate need he felt for Dean to love him, to want him. He wasn’t even sure when it had become so powerful. Slowly, he sat up. “Can I trust you, Dean?”
Dean stilled, his hand on Sam’s thigh. “I would never hurt you Sam, not…without reason.”
Sam shook his head. “No…that isn’t what I meant. I have to…say it…I have to…” He blew out a long breath and closed his eyes. “I was thirteen the first time. I was home from school for the Christmas break. It was my first year away and I came back determined not to let him push me around anymore.”
Dean’s hand caressed his thigh as he spoke and Sam closed his eyes. “I don’t even remember what the fight was about. But I remember I looked him in the eye. I never did that. He hit me. Knocked me down.” Sam’s voice was more of a drone, as he disconnected from the memory, his face slack and pale. “We were in the hall, and he dragged me down to the temple room. I knew I was in more trouble than before. He never let me in there.”
Sam shifted, remembering the heat in the room, the smell of sulfur, the taste of blood in his mouth. “I was already tall, almost as tall as he was. I fought back at first, but it only made it worse. I thought the closet was bad. I have scars…but this was worse. I could tell the demons in the room weren’t the same as the ones in the closet. These were…stronger, older…and then he was mumbling Latin and he opened his mouth, and they just…went into him.”
Sam rubbed his hands together, looking off into the corner of the room. “He told me…told me he didn’t have to make my life so easy…didn’t have to give me anything more than what kept me alive. He…he used my mouth that day. Called me a…called me names.”
“God, Sam…” Dean sat up, his hand brushing gently over Sam’s tear soaked face. “Sam…I’m so sorry…I…god, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you don’t hate me.” Sam’s green eyes were watery and bright as they met Dean’s. “Tell me…you won’t…won’t leave me.”
Dean leaned forward, his lips brushing over Sam’s tenderly. “Not going anywhere. You are safe here. I promise you.” He let his hand brush down over Sam’s shoulder, down to his thigh. “Lay down, Sam. You should rest…sleep.”
Sam nodded, letting Dean guide him back down to lay with his head on the pillow. Dean moved as if to get up, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Stay?”
Dean looked down at him for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Slide over.” Sam made room and Dean settled in beside him. “I’m right here, Sammy.” Sam sighed and curled into Dean, his head on Dean’s chest, his breathe stuttering over Dean’s skin. “Right here. Sleep.”