Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing, Baby Part 1/3
For riveryklown at the samdeanexchange: She wanted a variety of things, but I managed Sam being after Dean and Dean resisting until Sam made him jealous with another guy. And angst that resolves happily but not abruptly. Hope it's o.k.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC/17
Summary: When Sam was fifteen he made it pretty clear to Dean what he wanted. Dean made it pretty clear right back that Sam wasn't getting it if he didn't at least try to see if there was anyone else out there who'd make him happy. Sam tries. Sort of. Dean gets with the program. Eventually. Wincest ensues. Complete in three parts.
Beta'd by the amazing and awesomeratherastory
As far back as Dean could remember, it'd always been hard to be Sam's big brother. It was hard when he was four and Sammy was just a baby and it was largely up to him to try to take his mother's place. Comforting Sam and quieting him when he cried was the first of Dean's jobs. Dean was smart and determined and it wasn't long before he had getting his little brother to sleep down to a science. Soon feeding time was another responsibility his dad ceded to him. Dad never did have much luck getting Sam to take a bottle, and when he'd graduated to cereals, Dean was sure Sam would starve. His little brother just pressed those lips together and stared at John defiantly. When Dean offered to give it a try, John couldn't give up the spoon fast enough. And Sam smiled, wide and happy, and let Dean shovel cereal and peas into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks. When Sam started walking, it was Dean he'd toddled to to fall laughing onto him. Dean would laugh too and fall backwards, carrying Sammy down with him and cuddling him until Sam would push away to try again. Dad was there for some of it, but mostly it was Dean shepherding Sammy through the milestones of his childhood.
Until they were teenagers, Dean always shared a bed with his little brother. The only exceptions were when they were staying with Bobby or Pastor Jim. They still had to share a room, but the twin beds were like heaven. For the first night or two anyway. Then Sam would be too cold or have a nightmare and he'd be back in bed with Dean where he seemed to think he belonged. Dean never sent him away. It was just easier to make sure Sam was still alive in the middle of the night when he was pressed up against Dean and his soft breaths were puffing against Dean's neck. Lying there in the dark, Dean would listen to the sound of his brother living and all the hard work and worry and fear that it had taken to get Sam through his babyhood, to school age, then all the way to a teenager seemed totally worth it. In retrospect, Dean should have known that what had come before was actually the easy part.
Dean's epiphany that life with Sam was about to get a whole lot harder came during a sparring session in the back yard of a trailer that John rented for the summer as a base of operations. It was Texas in July and neither of them particularly wanted to be outside in the dust and heat, but Dad had called to make sure Dean was keeping up with his drills. Since Dean was doing his p.t. once a day instead of twice, and Sam hadn't been doing it at all, they decided they'd better get going before Dad got home. He'd test them and it would be way less painful and humiliating if they'd been working at the moves he'd shown them before he left.
After a five mile run and a turn running their heads under the hose, they'd gone to the yard to work on their fighting skills. Dean put Sam on his ass ten times in a row and had taken a short break to pull off his sweat soaked shirt. When he'd turned back he found Sam staring at him, red faced with fury and something else that Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Sam's breath came out in harsh pants and Dean leaned down to give him a hand up. Sam shifted his weight and tried to pull Dean down, but Dean had his weight balanced and was ready for that. He pulled Sam up and tried to put him right back down again, but Sam was ready for that. He gripped Dean's wrist tightly and propelled himself forward until he was pressed against his brother's bare chest. He grabbed the back of Dean's head and pulled him down into a hard kiss. There weren't many things that could throw Dean off balance, but damned if Sam hadn't just found one. Dean rocked backward and Sam threw a leg behind him and knocked him to the ground, landing heavily on top of his stunned brother.
Dean just lay there for a moment trying to take in what had just happened. Sam had taken him down. That had never happened before. Knowing how to fight, doing the moves correctly was a matter of life and death to them and Dean wasn't going to put Sam at risk by pretending that he was doing everything the right way when he wasn't. The bad guys weren't going to just let Sam win. He was going to have to beat them by being better. The element of surprise was important, but Dean didn't think that Sam was going to get the better of a corporeal spirit or a werewolf by kissing them. It had sure as shit worked on him though. His thoughts gradually came around to processing the fact that Sam was still lying on top of him and his eyes focused on Sam's face just inches from his own.
"Hey, Sammy," he managed. "Way to work in the element of surprise. Now get the hell off me." Sam's face still had that look and without the rage to dilute it, Dean had no trouble recognizing it. A pit of ice began to form in his stomach when Sam showed no sign of moving.
"Don't want to." Sam smiled his Sammy smile, wide and happy and suddenly very wrong. "I finally put you on your back and I think I should get to enjoy it for a minute." Sam was pressed tightly enough against his brother that Dean could feel, in no uncertain terms, just how much Sam was enjoying it.
"I think you're enjoying it a little too much, bitch, and I want you off me."
Sam just grinned and pushed his hips against his brother's. "Seems like you might be enjoying it a little too, jerk. We both know that if you really didn't want me here, I wouldn't still be here."
Dean had to concede both points. He could feel himself responding to Sam and while, at fifteen, Sam was catching up to him in the height department, Dean still outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. Dean could have been back on his feet in five seconds if he had wanted to. If he had the first clue what was going on.
"What the fuck, Sam? I know you're pissed that you can't beat me in a fight, but really. What the fuck?"
Sam's face grew more serious and he dipped closer to capture Dean's mouth under his. Dean twisted his head and brought one hand up hard against Sam's shoulder, rocking his brother back away from him, but not dislodging him from his prone position.
"Christo!" Dean muttered, while trying to reach into his back pocket for his silver knife. This wasn't Sam. It couldn't be. Something was controlling his little brother. He didn't want to hurt Sam, but he needed to find out what was going on. He managed to get the knife out and made a shallow cut along the back of Sam's hand.
"Ow! What was that for! You could just throw me off, you don't have to knife me, asshole!" Sam scrambled off Dean and knelt a few feet away, clutching his bleeding hand. "And Christo? You fucking think I'm possessed?"
"You kissed me, Sam! Twice! What the hell am I supposed to think? That all of a sudden you have the hots for me?"
Dean didn't think it was possible for Sam's face to get any redder, but from the deepening color in his brother's cheeks, it obviously was. Sam ducked his head, suddenly unable to meet his brother's eyes and Dean had to strain to hear his next words.
"Not all of a sudden, Dean." Sam whispered.
"What do you mean not all of a sudden? What..? I mean...I don't... How long, Sammy?" Dean felt like things were spinning away from him.
Sam raised his head to face his brother and the misery and longing in his gaze hit Dean like a blow. Dean clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to run a comforting hand through Sam's unruly hair. The image of his hand in his brother's hair was followed by one where he used that hand to pull Sam's head forward into a kiss that he instigated. That thought went straight to Dean's still mostly hard cock and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard to clear the image from his brain. He didn't know what was going on with Sam, but he wasn't going to make it worse by encouraging him in any way. Sam's eyes dropped to Dean's fisted hands and he let out a long sigh.
"You going to hit me now?"
Dean swallowed hard and relaxed his hands. "No. No, Sammy I'm not going to hit you. Now answer my question. How long?"
"Since I walked in on you and Martina Chorosky."
Dean just stared at Sam blankly. "Refresh my memory here, Sam."
"Jesus, Dean, do you ever remember any of the girls that you're with? Three years ago. Evanston. I walked in on the two of you while she was blowing you. She lived a few doors down and I know for a fact that you fucked her more than once."
"So...you walk in on some chick giving me head and what?"
Sam was staring at his hands again. "You didn't see me. You had your head back and your eyes closed and the look on your face... God, Dean. You just have no idea. You were telling her how good she was making you feel. And I wanted it to be me."
Dean's brain didn't want Sam to be saying what he thought he was saying. His dick, however, pushed harder against his jeans. "You wanted it to be you who was getting his cock sucked?" he asked hopefully.
"No." Sam said quietly. "I wanted to be the one making you feel that way. I still do."
Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had to be careful here. What Sam was suggesting wasn't something he was totally opposed to. But Sam was his little brother, his responsibility always.
"Why'd you wait so long to say something? Why now, Sam?"
Sam's voice dropped even lower. "I've only ever seen you with girls, Dean. I didn't think you'd want to with a guy. But today I heard...."
Dean's heart began to pound and his mouth was dry. Guys were a new thing for him, but Dean was nothing if not adventurous, and he loved sex in all its incarnations. He thought he'd been careful enough that nothing would ever get back to Sam or his dad. "You're not a guy, Sammy. You're my little brother. And what exactly did you hear to make you think I'd want to be with a guy."
"I heard a couple of girls talking when I was in town getting groceries. One of the girls had an older brother who was gay and she was telling her friend about the guy her brother brought home Saturday night while their parents were out. She was pretty pissed that her brother landed a hotter guy than she did. She watched you making out on the couch and spied on the two of you in the bedroom. She was pretty explicit about what she saw too. Didn't sound like you were being forced to do anything you didn't want to, so I came to the conclusion that you don't just fuck girls. Was I wrong?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Dean had wanted to go to a motel, but no, the guy he had let pick him up had insisted on doing it in his own bed. Dean had to admit it had been a lot more comfortable than any motel bed he'd ever been in and he'd had a hell of a time in that bed, but still. The little sister had been spying on them? She'd been pretty and Dean had sure recognized the look on her face as he'd walked past her to get to the bedroom. She'd been maybe sixteen, though and he'd given her his best smile and a promise to look her up in a couple of years. Sneaky bitch'd be lucky if he didn't look her up right now to put the fear of Dean Winchester into her. Spying on him with his dick up her brother's ass and telling her friend all about it? In front of Sam no less? Shit.
"Some girl you don't know was talking about some guy her brother's fucking-and by the way, Sam, don't let me ever catch you talking about me and anyone I'm with to anyone-and you just assume it's me? It could have been anybody."
Sam huffed. "Her brother wasn't fucking the guy, the guy was fucking her brother. Which you know perfectly well, since you were the guy. Jesus, Dean, we're in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. You know what you look like! How many guys your age do you think there are around here who look even half as good as you? None, that's how many! You know how the sister described you? He was like some sort of gorgeous sex god." Sam's voice broke a little as he continued. "Some sort of gorgeous sex god. Everywhere we go, I hear about you and what a great lay you are. The girls can't say enough. Now it's going to be guys too. I want it to be me, Dean. Please just let it be me?"
Dean wanted to mock Sam to death for the gorgeous sex god comment but the pleading tone of Sam's voice had Dean's heart stinging. Sam wanted him. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn't about to do it unless he was absolutely sure that Sam knew what he was doing.
"Sam." It came out a little choked and Dean had to clear his throat before he continued. "Have you been with a lot of guys?" The thought of Sam on his knees or bent over while some random man reamed his ass was making Dean nauseous. "Do you like girls at all?"
"Never been with a guy Dean. I want it to be you. And I like girls fine. Just don't see the point of getting serious with one when nothing's going to come of it. We'll move on and they'll be gone. You're the only one that's always here, Dean. The only one that's going to always be where I am."
"So let me get this straight, Sam." Dean forced himself to be harsh, because he wanted Sam right back and there was no way he was going to fuck the kid up forever by giving in to it. "You fixated on me when you were fucking twelve years old and you've never even given yourself a chance to find out if anyone else out there could be anything for you. You want me because I'm convenient? Because I'll be there when we move on? You think I'm going to start fucking my little brother because it's easier for him than trying to actually work at a normal relationship? There's a lot of amazing people out there Sam. You're not doing yourself any favors by hiding away from them because you're afraid."
"I know there are amazing people out there, Dean. But I'm not like you. I can't just have a relationship just be about sex. I need more. And I'm never going to get it in the couple of months that we ever spend anywhere."
"You have to try, Sam. I can't be that for you." Not if you've never even given yourself a chance to find someone better.
Sam's eyes dropped to the bulge that still strained Dean's crotch. "You want to."
"I can't." Dean was done talking about this. " And since it would be really awkward to do any more sparring today, I'm going to take a shower. You might want to cool off a little under the hose before you come in. And Sam?"
"What?"
"We're not talking about this ever again. And we're going to keep sparring, so figure out a way to deal with it. I recommend a pretty girl and a make out session that goes a little further than you usually take it. Try taking it all the way, Sam. You might just find out that there are things out there that aren't me that can make you happy."
Sam watched Dean walk to the house. His heart clenched and tears dripped down his face as he tried to figure out what was so wrong with what he was seeing. Then he realized. Dean was just walking. The Dean Winchester swagger that screamed SEX ON LEGS HERE! was missing. God, he had fucked everything up. He hadn't meant to push it so hard, but the heat and the sweat and the anger and the knowledge that Dean would have sex with a guy had all teamed up to push him over the edge. And he was scared to death that Dean was going to be different with him now. Careful and contained and not sexy and not Dean. Sam sighed and went to rinse his tears away under the hose.
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Sam didn't give up easily, ever, when there was something he really wanted and his pursuit of his brother was no exception. Every new town, every new school, Dean would try to push Sam at some pretty, but brainy girl and in one embarrassing incident, a hot and brainy guy. Sam would go out with the girls and he even hung out with the guy, but he never even tried for anything more serious. There was no point. Two months, four months, six months max and he would be moving on, never to see them again. Only Dean was a constant. Dean with his perfect body and his beautiful face and his tomcat reputation where ever they went. Sam knew Dean loved him. Might even want him. And every time he was tempted to give up on what he craved more than air, Sam would think back to that dusty Texas afternoon and the feeling of Dean's hard cock underneath him.
The years passed and Sam played at being a normal teen and Dean never did mention what had happened between them. To Sam's immense relief, he was still Dean. Still happy, joking, gross Dean. But he was more careful with Sam. There was no more bed sharing anywhere and when they sparred he was always sure to ignore the erections they would both end up sporting. Sam lost his virginity to a pretty lab partner in Toledo and Dean practically threw him a party. Sam hadn't wanted to bring Dean down, but he wasn't going to let his brother think that the girl had meant anything to him. He was doing what Dean wanted, but he'd spent the whole time pretending it was Dean he was with. When his acceptance papers to Stanford came, complete with a full ride scholarship, he couldn't quite make himself as happy as he'd thought he would be. He hated hunting, hated the life it made you lead. But the real reason he was leaving was that he couldn't stand to be around Dean anymore and not have him.
The day he made his big revelation that he was leaving for college and had the resulting knock down, drag out with his father, was the day he made his last ditch effort to convert Dean. With his father's Don't ever come back, still ringing in his ears, Sam stomped into the bedroom to grab his bag. He'd been able to put his whole life in one duffle and that made him sadder and more angry than just about anything else. Dean followed him in and closed the door behind him.
"Been planning this for a while, Sam?"
"I'm going to college, Dean. I've never wanted to be a hunter. I can't wait 'til I can stay in one place all the time. Make friends I don't have to leave every couple of months. Get a real job. After all, there's nothing to keep me here." He took a few steps towards Dean, backing his brother up against the wall. Sam had grown in the last few years and now he topped Dean by about an inch. Sam ran his hand down Dean's face and leaned forward to breathe into his ear. "Unless some gorgeous sex god wants to give me a reason to stay." Sam should have been ready for the blow that knocked him backwards onto his ass, but he was totally unprepared for the violence of Dean's reply.
"Go to hell, Sam." Dean's voice shook. "You said it yourself! You hate this life. Hate hunting. But, what? You'll stay if we start fucking and everything you hate will magically be all better? You've been dying to get away from what we do ever since you found out what it was. So if there's nothing to keep you here, then get the hell out already."
"You could come with me. Dean you could leave too."
"No. No I couldn't. This is the life I want Sam. I love hunting. Saving people. It matters. And even if I did it wouldn't change anything. You still wouldn't be giving yourself a chance to find someone better. You want normal Sam. I can't be part of that."
"Someone better? There is no one better than you. You think I just want you because you're hot? I want you because you're Dean. I just wish I could make you see you how I see you."
"I see myself how I am, Sam. I can't be what you need. I really hope you find what you're looking for at Stanford." Dean took a deep breath and Sam could see him shoring up his walls. "Need a ride to the bus station?"
"No. I have a ride. Dean, I..." He stopped as Dean held up a hand.
"No chick flick moments Sammy. Be safe. And if you ever need back up you call me, you hear?" A car horn beeped from out front and Dean gave Sam his best grin. "Bye Sam."
"Bye Dean."
Dean slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands as Sam walked out the front door. Part 2
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC/17
Summary: When Sam was fifteen he made it pretty clear to Dean what he wanted. Dean made it pretty clear right back that Sam wasn't getting it if he didn't at least try to see if there was anyone else out there who'd make him happy. Sam tries. Sort of. Dean gets with the program. Eventually. Wincest ensues. Complete in three parts.
Beta'd by the amazing and awesomeratherastory
As far back as Dean could remember, it'd always been hard to be Sam's big brother. It was hard when he was four and Sammy was just a baby and it was largely up to him to try to take his mother's place. Comforting Sam and quieting him when he cried was the first of Dean's jobs. Dean was smart and determined and it wasn't long before he had getting his little brother to sleep down to a science. Soon feeding time was another responsibility his dad ceded to him. Dad never did have much luck getting Sam to take a bottle, and when he'd graduated to cereals, Dean was sure Sam would starve. His little brother just pressed those lips together and stared at John defiantly. When Dean offered to give it a try, John couldn't give up the spoon fast enough. And Sam smiled, wide and happy, and let Dean shovel cereal and peas into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks. When Sam started walking, it was Dean he'd toddled to to fall laughing onto him. Dean would laugh too and fall backwards, carrying Sammy down with him and cuddling him until Sam would push away to try again. Dad was there for some of it, but mostly it was Dean shepherding Sammy through the milestones of his childhood.
Until they were teenagers, Dean always shared a bed with his little brother. The only exceptions were when they were staying with Bobby or Pastor Jim. They still had to share a room, but the twin beds were like heaven. For the first night or two anyway. Then Sam would be too cold or have a nightmare and he'd be back in bed with Dean where he seemed to think he belonged. Dean never sent him away. It was just easier to make sure Sam was still alive in the middle of the night when he was pressed up against Dean and his soft breaths were puffing against Dean's neck. Lying there in the dark, Dean would listen to the sound of his brother living and all the hard work and worry and fear that it had taken to get Sam through his babyhood, to school age, then all the way to a teenager seemed totally worth it. In retrospect, Dean should have known that what had come before was actually the easy part.
Dean's epiphany that life with Sam was about to get a whole lot harder came during a sparring session in the back yard of a trailer that John rented for the summer as a base of operations. It was Texas in July and neither of them particularly wanted to be outside in the dust and heat, but Dad had called to make sure Dean was keeping up with his drills. Since Dean was doing his p.t. once a day instead of twice, and Sam hadn't been doing it at all, they decided they'd better get going before Dad got home. He'd test them and it would be way less painful and humiliating if they'd been working at the moves he'd shown them before he left.
After a five mile run and a turn running their heads under the hose, they'd gone to the yard to work on their fighting skills. Dean put Sam on his ass ten times in a row and had taken a short break to pull off his sweat soaked shirt. When he'd turned back he found Sam staring at him, red faced with fury and something else that Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Sam's breath came out in harsh pants and Dean leaned down to give him a hand up. Sam shifted his weight and tried to pull Dean down, but Dean had his weight balanced and was ready for that. He pulled Sam up and tried to put him right back down again, but Sam was ready for that. He gripped Dean's wrist tightly and propelled himself forward until he was pressed against his brother's bare chest. He grabbed the back of Dean's head and pulled him down into a hard kiss. There weren't many things that could throw Dean off balance, but damned if Sam hadn't just found one. Dean rocked backward and Sam threw a leg behind him and knocked him to the ground, landing heavily on top of his stunned brother.
Dean just lay there for a moment trying to take in what had just happened. Sam had taken him down. That had never happened before. Knowing how to fight, doing the moves correctly was a matter of life and death to them and Dean wasn't going to put Sam at risk by pretending that he was doing everything the right way when he wasn't. The bad guys weren't going to just let Sam win. He was going to have to beat them by being better. The element of surprise was important, but Dean didn't think that Sam was going to get the better of a corporeal spirit or a werewolf by kissing them. It had sure as shit worked on him though. His thoughts gradually came around to processing the fact that Sam was still lying on top of him and his eyes focused on Sam's face just inches from his own.
"Hey, Sammy," he managed. "Way to work in the element of surprise. Now get the hell off me." Sam's face still had that look and without the rage to dilute it, Dean had no trouble recognizing it. A pit of ice began to form in his stomach when Sam showed no sign of moving.
"Don't want to." Sam smiled his Sammy smile, wide and happy and suddenly very wrong. "I finally put you on your back and I think I should get to enjoy it for a minute." Sam was pressed tightly enough against his brother that Dean could feel, in no uncertain terms, just how much Sam was enjoying it.
"I think you're enjoying it a little too much, bitch, and I want you off me."
Sam just grinned and pushed his hips against his brother's. "Seems like you might be enjoying it a little too, jerk. We both know that if you really didn't want me here, I wouldn't still be here."
Dean had to concede both points. He could feel himself responding to Sam and while, at fifteen, Sam was catching up to him in the height department, Dean still outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. Dean could have been back on his feet in five seconds if he had wanted to. If he had the first clue what was going on.
"What the fuck, Sam? I know you're pissed that you can't beat me in a fight, but really. What the fuck?"
Sam's face grew more serious and he dipped closer to capture Dean's mouth under his. Dean twisted his head and brought one hand up hard against Sam's shoulder, rocking his brother back away from him, but not dislodging him from his prone position.
"Christo!" Dean muttered, while trying to reach into his back pocket for his silver knife. This wasn't Sam. It couldn't be. Something was controlling his little brother. He didn't want to hurt Sam, but he needed to find out what was going on. He managed to get the knife out and made a shallow cut along the back of Sam's hand.
"Ow! What was that for! You could just throw me off, you don't have to knife me, asshole!" Sam scrambled off Dean and knelt a few feet away, clutching his bleeding hand. "And Christo? You fucking think I'm possessed?"
"You kissed me, Sam! Twice! What the hell am I supposed to think? That all of a sudden you have the hots for me?"
Dean didn't think it was possible for Sam's face to get any redder, but from the deepening color in his brother's cheeks, it obviously was. Sam ducked his head, suddenly unable to meet his brother's eyes and Dean had to strain to hear his next words.
"Not all of a sudden, Dean." Sam whispered.
"What do you mean not all of a sudden? What..? I mean...I don't... How long, Sammy?" Dean felt like things were spinning away from him.
Sam raised his head to face his brother and the misery and longing in his gaze hit Dean like a blow. Dean clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to run a comforting hand through Sam's unruly hair. The image of his hand in his brother's hair was followed by one where he used that hand to pull Sam's head forward into a kiss that he instigated. That thought went straight to Dean's still mostly hard cock and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard to clear the image from his brain. He didn't know what was going on with Sam, but he wasn't going to make it worse by encouraging him in any way. Sam's eyes dropped to Dean's fisted hands and he let out a long sigh.
"You going to hit me now?"
Dean swallowed hard and relaxed his hands. "No. No, Sammy I'm not going to hit you. Now answer my question. How long?"
"Since I walked in on you and Martina Chorosky."
Dean just stared at Sam blankly. "Refresh my memory here, Sam."
"Jesus, Dean, do you ever remember any of the girls that you're with? Three years ago. Evanston. I walked in on the two of you while she was blowing you. She lived a few doors down and I know for a fact that you fucked her more than once."
"So...you walk in on some chick giving me head and what?"
Sam was staring at his hands again. "You didn't see me. You had your head back and your eyes closed and the look on your face... God, Dean. You just have no idea. You were telling her how good she was making you feel. And I wanted it to be me."
Dean's brain didn't want Sam to be saying what he thought he was saying. His dick, however, pushed harder against his jeans. "You wanted it to be you who was getting his cock sucked?" he asked hopefully.
"No." Sam said quietly. "I wanted to be the one making you feel that way. I still do."
Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had to be careful here. What Sam was suggesting wasn't something he was totally opposed to. But Sam was his little brother, his responsibility always.
"Why'd you wait so long to say something? Why now, Sam?"
Sam's voice dropped even lower. "I've only ever seen you with girls, Dean. I didn't think you'd want to with a guy. But today I heard...."
Dean's heart began to pound and his mouth was dry. Guys were a new thing for him, but Dean was nothing if not adventurous, and he loved sex in all its incarnations. He thought he'd been careful enough that nothing would ever get back to Sam or his dad. "You're not a guy, Sammy. You're my little brother. And what exactly did you hear to make you think I'd want to be with a guy."
"I heard a couple of girls talking when I was in town getting groceries. One of the girls had an older brother who was gay and she was telling her friend about the guy her brother brought home Saturday night while their parents were out. She was pretty pissed that her brother landed a hotter guy than she did. She watched you making out on the couch and spied on the two of you in the bedroom. She was pretty explicit about what she saw too. Didn't sound like you were being forced to do anything you didn't want to, so I came to the conclusion that you don't just fuck girls. Was I wrong?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Dean had wanted to go to a motel, but no, the guy he had let pick him up had insisted on doing it in his own bed. Dean had to admit it had been a lot more comfortable than any motel bed he'd ever been in and he'd had a hell of a time in that bed, but still. The little sister had been spying on them? She'd been pretty and Dean had sure recognized the look on her face as he'd walked past her to get to the bedroom. She'd been maybe sixteen, though and he'd given her his best smile and a promise to look her up in a couple of years. Sneaky bitch'd be lucky if he didn't look her up right now to put the fear of Dean Winchester into her. Spying on him with his dick up her brother's ass and telling her friend all about it? In front of Sam no less? Shit.
"Some girl you don't know was talking about some guy her brother's fucking-and by the way, Sam, don't let me ever catch you talking about me and anyone I'm with to anyone-and you just assume it's me? It could have been anybody."
Sam huffed. "Her brother wasn't fucking the guy, the guy was fucking her brother. Which you know perfectly well, since you were the guy. Jesus, Dean, we're in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. You know what you look like! How many guys your age do you think there are around here who look even half as good as you? None, that's how many! You know how the sister described you? He was like some sort of gorgeous sex god." Sam's voice broke a little as he continued. "Some sort of gorgeous sex god. Everywhere we go, I hear about you and what a great lay you are. The girls can't say enough. Now it's going to be guys too. I want it to be me, Dean. Please just let it be me?"
Dean wanted to mock Sam to death for the gorgeous sex god comment but the pleading tone of Sam's voice had Dean's heart stinging. Sam wanted him. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn't about to do it unless he was absolutely sure that Sam knew what he was doing.
"Sam." It came out a little choked and Dean had to clear his throat before he continued. "Have you been with a lot of guys?" The thought of Sam on his knees or bent over while some random man reamed his ass was making Dean nauseous. "Do you like girls at all?"
"Never been with a guy Dean. I want it to be you. And I like girls fine. Just don't see the point of getting serious with one when nothing's going to come of it. We'll move on and they'll be gone. You're the only one that's always here, Dean. The only one that's going to always be where I am."
"So let me get this straight, Sam." Dean forced himself to be harsh, because he wanted Sam right back and there was no way he was going to fuck the kid up forever by giving in to it. "You fixated on me when you were fucking twelve years old and you've never even given yourself a chance to find out if anyone else out there could be anything for you. You want me because I'm convenient? Because I'll be there when we move on? You think I'm going to start fucking my little brother because it's easier for him than trying to actually work at a normal relationship? There's a lot of amazing people out there Sam. You're not doing yourself any favors by hiding away from them because you're afraid."
"I know there are amazing people out there, Dean. But I'm not like you. I can't just have a relationship just be about sex. I need more. And I'm never going to get it in the couple of months that we ever spend anywhere."
"You have to try, Sam. I can't be that for you." Not if you've never even given yourself a chance to find someone better.
Sam's eyes dropped to the bulge that still strained Dean's crotch. "You want to."
"I can't." Dean was done talking about this. " And since it would be really awkward to do any more sparring today, I'm going to take a shower. You might want to cool off a little under the hose before you come in. And Sam?"
"What?"
"We're not talking about this ever again. And we're going to keep sparring, so figure out a way to deal with it. I recommend a pretty girl and a make out session that goes a little further than you usually take it. Try taking it all the way, Sam. You might just find out that there are things out there that aren't me that can make you happy."
Sam watched Dean walk to the house. His heart clenched and tears dripped down his face as he tried to figure out what was so wrong with what he was seeing. Then he realized. Dean was just walking. The Dean Winchester swagger that screamed SEX ON LEGS HERE! was missing. God, he had fucked everything up. He hadn't meant to push it so hard, but the heat and the sweat and the anger and the knowledge that Dean would have sex with a guy had all teamed up to push him over the edge. And he was scared to death that Dean was going to be different with him now. Careful and contained and not sexy and not Dean. Sam sighed and went to rinse his tears away under the hose.
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Sam didn't give up easily, ever, when there was something he really wanted and his pursuit of his brother was no exception. Every new town, every new school, Dean would try to push Sam at some pretty, but brainy girl and in one embarrassing incident, a hot and brainy guy. Sam would go out with the girls and he even hung out with the guy, but he never even tried for anything more serious. There was no point. Two months, four months, six months max and he would be moving on, never to see them again. Only Dean was a constant. Dean with his perfect body and his beautiful face and his tomcat reputation where ever they went. Sam knew Dean loved him. Might even want him. And every time he was tempted to give up on what he craved more than air, Sam would think back to that dusty Texas afternoon and the feeling of Dean's hard cock underneath him.
The years passed and Sam played at being a normal teen and Dean never did mention what had happened between them. To Sam's immense relief, he was still Dean. Still happy, joking, gross Dean. But he was more careful with Sam. There was no more bed sharing anywhere and when they sparred he was always sure to ignore the erections they would both end up sporting. Sam lost his virginity to a pretty lab partner in Toledo and Dean practically threw him a party. Sam hadn't wanted to bring Dean down, but he wasn't going to let his brother think that the girl had meant anything to him. He was doing what Dean wanted, but he'd spent the whole time pretending it was Dean he was with. When his acceptance papers to Stanford came, complete with a full ride scholarship, he couldn't quite make himself as happy as he'd thought he would be. He hated hunting, hated the life it made you lead. But the real reason he was leaving was that he couldn't stand to be around Dean anymore and not have him.
The day he made his big revelation that he was leaving for college and had the resulting knock down, drag out with his father, was the day he made his last ditch effort to convert Dean. With his father's Don't ever come back, still ringing in his ears, Sam stomped into the bedroom to grab his bag. He'd been able to put his whole life in one duffle and that made him sadder and more angry than just about anything else. Dean followed him in and closed the door behind him.
"Been planning this for a while, Sam?"
"I'm going to college, Dean. I've never wanted to be a hunter. I can't wait 'til I can stay in one place all the time. Make friends I don't have to leave every couple of months. Get a real job. After all, there's nothing to keep me here." He took a few steps towards Dean, backing his brother up against the wall. Sam had grown in the last few years and now he topped Dean by about an inch. Sam ran his hand down Dean's face and leaned forward to breathe into his ear. "Unless some gorgeous sex god wants to give me a reason to stay." Sam should have been ready for the blow that knocked him backwards onto his ass, but he was totally unprepared for the violence of Dean's reply.
"Go to hell, Sam." Dean's voice shook. "You said it yourself! You hate this life. Hate hunting. But, what? You'll stay if we start fucking and everything you hate will magically be all better? You've been dying to get away from what we do ever since you found out what it was. So if there's nothing to keep you here, then get the hell out already."
"You could come with me. Dean you could leave too."
"No. No I couldn't. This is the life I want Sam. I love hunting. Saving people. It matters. And even if I did it wouldn't change anything. You still wouldn't be giving yourself a chance to find someone better. You want normal Sam. I can't be part of that."
"Someone better? There is no one better than you. You think I just want you because you're hot? I want you because you're Dean. I just wish I could make you see you how I see you."
"I see myself how I am, Sam. I can't be what you need. I really hope you find what you're looking for at Stanford." Dean took a deep breath and Sam could see him shoring up his walls. "Need a ride to the bus station?"
"No. I have a ride. Dean, I..." He stopped as Dean held up a hand.
"No chick flick moments Sammy. Be safe. And if you ever need back up you call me, you hear?" A car horn beeped from out front and Dean gave Sam his best grin. "Bye Sam."
"Bye Dean."
Dean slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands as Sam walked out the front door. Part 2