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Brothers. God damn it they were brothers. Dean sighed, fingers running through his short hair pulling slightly at the roots in his anguish.
Across the bar Sam was sitting with a bottle blond. She was the last person that had seen Henry Carson (other wise known between the boys as the 'monster chow' guy) and in a better mood Dean would have admitted she was pretty hot in a kind of sensible-girl way, he probably would have gone over before Sam could get a look in to 'interview' her and spent the rest of the night 'interviewing' her, but Sam had beat him to it and given him bitchface number 7 on his way over, that had been over an hour ago, unless the clock was running fast and Dean knew it wasn't because every minute over the first 15 had been prodding him the spleen and was currently causing him more than his fair share of discomfort and, probably worse, giving him way way more jealously tinged thoughts than he should have had.
Necking back the last mouthful of his sixth beer Dean signalled to the bar tender, a skinny rough looking chick who -again- would still have been Dean's type this time six months ago. This time six months ago Dean wouldn't have thought twice about having her, or the blond, or the redhead sending him flirty eyes across the bar, but up until six months ago Sam hadn't been there, and Sam was slowly driving Dean insane. It had been fine to begin with, the first few cases had been great, the family business back together just the way it should be, the way it had been before Sam's Stanford era got in the way; just the two of them trekking around the country on Dads orders, saving people, hunting things, two boys in a 67 impala with far to many bad jokes and far to much classic rock music, crappy one bed motel rooms with sticky carpets and showers that only ran cold and with nights spent fighting over blankets and the bed seaming to have way to much of Sam's legs, hustling pool in small town bars and Dean getting drunk while Sam stuck with soda and laughed when Dean got turned down by girls in a good natured brotherly way … those had been the good days, Dean would have given anything to be back in those days again rather than the mess that he found himself in now even if he would have to deal with Sammy's teenage mood swings and moaning about their father or the music or having to ride shotgun all the time or just whether simply because he felt like moaning.
A beer came down on the counter with a sharp chink of glass on wood startling dean out of his reverie. "You know," the waitress smirked "if I was you I wouldn't let my boyfriend get away with flirting with some bitch no matter how much I was trying to look straight".
Dean's gaze snapped from her to Sam, who was now standing a little way off talking on the phone, and back again, eyes widening in shock "Oh, he's uh, he's not … I mean" Dean stuttered, shit. "He's my brother".
"Sure, sure" the bar tender rolled her eyes "cause I check out my brothers ass like that aaaaaall the time". She laughed and went back to her previous occupation before Dean could find a good enough retort around the babble of 'mmm yeah he does' 'look at that thing' 'god yes' and 'I'd tap that' floating around his brain. Jesus, he shivered in disgust at himself, that was his Brother he was thinking about and as if that wasn't bad enough it just kept getting worse. Sure it had started off so innocent, when Sam had kissed that girl a few cases back … what was her name? Sophie, Sasha, Sarah … Sarah, Dean had really noticed just how pretty Sam's kiss bitten lips really were as they drove away, and then he had noticed just how much Sam's eyes changed colour in different lights, sometimes the were as warm brown like melting chocolate, others the were almost golden and all flecked with green and Dean couldn't even out a name to the colour the burned when Sam got passionate about something, then there had been the time Sam had come out of the bathroom in just a towel and Dean's breath had caught, that had been the first time he had questioned his feelings for his brother, it had been nothing, just a quick 'oh my god Sam's fucking hot, like really hot, like my kind of hot and JESUS CHRIST thats my Brother I'm thinking about it' and it had been stamped out as quickly as you could say incest but it hadn't been gone long. A couple of months later and 'hot' was the closest thing to innocent Dean thought when it came to his baby brother. Now days Dean ached for Sam but Couldn't act on it, he just couldn't. Girls and guys alike had become invisible to him, all he ever saw was Sam, Sam, Sam and it was just getting worse.
And yes, other people were starting to pick up on it, the way he was lusting after his brother, hankering after more but to disgusted by his own wants to act on them. He Couldn't act on the fantasies that played him like a violin every time he looked at his brother, he just couldn't.
"You ready?"
Dean jumped and looked up from his beer, Sam was standing right next to him. Dean swallowed, unable to decide if Sam was just unusually close or if Dean's perverted mind was just making him look closer. "what, not spending the night with Blondie?" he snarked and Sam raised an eyebrow at him and shoved a 20 across the counter at the waitress who was looking at Dean with a smirk that he was finding very hard to ignore.
"Dude, you know I'm not That kind of guy" Sam frowned, which was true enough.
The waitress was biting her lip to try and keep the grin off her face as they boys got to their feet, Sam started off while Dean grabbed the change.
"You're brother, eh?" she snickered.
"Shut up." Dean almost snarled and followed Sam out of the bar.
Outside Sam was toeing the dirt in boredom, eyes fixed on the night sky. The night was muggy and the air was thick, a strong silence falling all around them as they walked back towards the motel only occasionally broken by a passing car or a rustle of leaves in the warm breeze.
"What's up with you recently?" Sam questions, he had taken off his suit and was currently dangling it over one shoulder, his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to his elbow and it was hanging loose around his waist, Dean had to keep his eyes on the ground to keep from looking to long at the way the white fabric was sticking to his chest from the slight sweat the whether was causing them both.
"What do you mean?" Dean replied gently kicking a little tuft of grass growing up through the asphalt.
"I mean, sitting sulking at the bar ignoring the red head and not trying for anyone else, you've been becoming more and more solitary over the last few months".
Dean shrugged "just not interested".
Sam scoffed "sure". They turned left into the motel entrance and crossed the parking lot, Dean gave the Impala a soft tap on the hood in passing while Sam slid the key into the door and jiggled it for a moment before it would unlock cursing dodgy locks under his breath and his thoughts on Dean.
Sighing he let the door swing open on creaking hinges and sighed. All the pretending was really starting to get to him. "You want a drink?" his voice came out as tiered as he felt.
Dean raised an eyebrow "you, drinking?"
Sam shrugged "I drink" his voice to high to be reassuring. He grabbed the bottle of jack from Deans bag and fished the slightly battered metal cups out with it and set them on the table with a chink of metal.
"Not hard stuff" Dean pointed out, Sam ignored him and poured the strong scented liquid into the cups, filling his rather more than it needed to be filled and handed the other to Dean who watched in borderline shock as his practically tea-totaler brother gulped back whiskey like a man dying of thirst.
"Okay" Dean said as Sam reached for a refill "forget me, Sammy what is up with You?".
"Nothing." Sam insisted snarkily and proceeded to down the second cupful of bitter tasting alcohol, the undiluted quantity on his empty stomach helped the effect set in insanely quickly, everything blurred slightly while parts -like the way Dean's lips touched the cup as he drank- simultaneously got clearer. He tapped his fingers against his own cup in anguish. Dean didn't know it but he wasn't alone in his incestuous feelings, Sam was in the exact same position that his older brother was in, only it was worse because while Dean had only had six months of it Sam had been battling desire verses right and wrong for the past four years and that battle was currently kicking up a good winning streak for desire. He took another swig of whiskey. It was all so wrong, so bad, so evil but it couldn't be, how could something that lasted this long be considered lust? how could something so deep rooted be anything but love? and how could love be wrong? These were fights Sam had been tossing around his mind over and over for years. and this was it. This was breaking point. He had spent to long going with his conscience over his heart, picking to stay on the 'right' path which only brought him pain over picking the 'wrong' road which he kept fantasising would be the end of all the 'right and wrong', 'good and bad', 'its unethical', 'its disgusting' that was going to drive him mad.
Fuelled by false courage of alcohol now pumping through his blood he pushed away from the table, focussed his concentration on not wobbling or falling and crossed the room to where Dean was leaning on the counter. He had a brief moment of 'oh jesus christ what the hell are you doing, he's your brother, stop' and stopped dead.
"Sammy?" Dean's eyes were filled with concern "You ok?"
"Fine. I .. uh, I just need some air" His words trailed off and he dashed for the door, tears pricking his eyes.
'God damn it Sam' a voice in his head yelled at him 'you were inches away from kissing your Brother, your Brother, Sammy'
Sam slammed his fist against the vending machine and the fibber glass cracked to the imprint of his hand. The tears that had been stinging in his eyes rolled down his face, this was turning into torture. "What is wrong with me?" he almost sobbed, low and pained "why him? why me?"
The little voice that he assumed was that of reason was giving him a constant babble of disgust, yelling bloody murder at him, screaming in his ear how sick he was for wanting what he did, twisting him up from the inside out, burning his very soul.
A hand came down on his shoulder "Sammy?"
He spun around into to the arms of sin, slouching enough to burrow his face into Dean's neck, his arms snaking around Deans shoulder, fingers digging into his shirt, tears staining dark spots on the cotton.
"hey" Dean soothed, his own arms wrapping around his brother "Sammy whats up with you? And don't you dare tell me nothing or I will kick your sorry ass"
Sam couldn't reply, he couldn't tell him, after all, what was he supposed to say 'you're right I'm not ok, I'm in love with you big brother'? it was laughable, Dean would probably punch him. So instead of speaking Sam just held on tighter until Dean pulled back and held him at arms length by the shoulders.
"Talk to me Sammy, 'cause you're really starting to freak me out."
Sam shook his head miserably and reluctantly looked into his brothers eyes. He knew that that was all he would need to do, Dean would be able to read the rest on his face like an open book.
Dean knew his brother like he knew nothing else, he knew the way Sam's brow crinkled when he was concentrating and the exact amount Sam's eyelids dropped before he called it a night while doing research, he knew the sound of Sam's breathing when he was sleeping peacefully and the soft snuffles he made when he was having a bad dream, he knew Sam chewed everything 9 times before he swallowed even if sam didn't know it, he knew every one of Sam's smiles, the tight lipped smile he gave witnesses and members of the police force, the easy going smile with a flash of teeth that lasted only a moment when Dean made an especially bad joke, and his favourite of Sam's smiles that Sam only smiled when he was just the right mix of happy and tiered where he closed his eyes and let the corners of his lips turn upwards and just keep going until his face was almost splitting in two with the perfect blend of pink lips and white teeth, Dean knew the look Sam got when he was angry where his eyes burned dark and serious, the look he got when he embarrassed by something his brother had said where he would purse his lips just a little and his features would slip into bitchface number 5 -or, please excuse my brother, he breathed in to much smoke as a kid-. Dean knew his brother like he knew nothing else and this look, even though he had never seen it before was a look he could read perfectly, and was comprised of 2 parts want, pure untapped want which turned his eyes black as the night surrounding them, 2 parts love, the kind Dean only saw on those dearest of occasions when everything was peaceful after hunts took a turn for the bad but they came out on top and realised just how much they needed each other, 1 parts confidence, a steady sureness with a steel edge and a titanium backbone and 1 part innocence that despite the other 5 parts made Dean's heart break as another wave of 'i can't do that to him' hit him. This was Sammy, this was his baby brother, clinging to the front of his shirt with tears staining his cheeks and desperation in his face, this was the baby brother that looked up to him, idolised him and trusted him implicitly, he couldn't do that to Sammy, he couldn't let his own want blur the lines between right and wrong, he couldn't fuck his brother up like that -no pun intended- and so he took a step back. Part of what made them so perfect as a team, as family, as everything was their complete co-dependancy, what one felt the other got the ghost of, what one thought the other touched on, what one tried to hide in his features the other saw and as surely as Dean could read Sam Sam could read Dean and he suddenly saw it all, he had been looking at the exact right time when Dean's walls fell away and though it was only a moment before Deans guard was back up, Sam still saw it. Saw the reciprocation, the desire, the fear, the confusion, the guilt of past actions and thoughts and the continuing resolve not to break under the desire.
Sam whimpered. "Dean please! Don't do that, I can see your brain over thinking this. I'm not a child Dean, I know what I'm … please." for every step backwards Dean stumbled Sam matched with a forward stride of his own "Do you think i haven't been through this too? do you think i don't know exactly what you are thinking right now?"
Dean's back connected with the wall of the motel and they both came to a standstill "What am I thinking Sammy?" he breathed eyes darting between lips and eyes and fists balling at his sides to keep from reaching out and grasping his brother.
"You're thinking its wrong, that you shouldn't feel like this because I'm your brother and brothers aren't supposed to feel like this. You're thinking that you're going straight to hell for everything going on in your head and you're scared, you're scared that this might actually not be a mistake, that this might actually not be wrong, that maybe all those thoughts, those guilt tinged jerk offs in the dead of night when all you can think about is me don't make you as perverted as they should anyone else" Sam's fingers burrowed into the Fabric of Deans shirt, twisting in the cotton, thumb brushing over the buttons "I've been there Dean, I know exactly what you're going through. You know why I left for Stanford?"
The question hung in the air and Dean gulped "To get away from Dad and hunting …?" he was all to aware of how close Sam was getting, his breath caressing his face, fresh but laced with alcohol and presenting another reason why this shouldn't be happening.
"wrong" Sam's lips almost brushed against Deans and felt Dean shiver under their tangible ghost, he was just as afraid as Dean was, if he was wrong then he was just about ruining everything and was as sure as hell going to loose his brother but he had spent to many nights Dreaming of Dean's lips, Dean's touch, Dean's voice, Dean's dick, Dean's everything and this was make or break, ether things went right or they went wrong and he had little left to loose now because if Dean didn't feel the same Sam was leaving for good in the morning anyway, this was as wrong as wrong could be but he figured he was going to hell anyway so what was the point in acting otherwise "I left because I couldn't stop thinking the exact same thoughts as you are thinking now. I couldn't stop thinking about you in ways i knew i wasn't supposed to, i couldn't stop the thoughts about parts of you i shouldn't fantasise about and I'm not stupid Dean, I know you, I can read you, I know you want this too."
Dean moaned under his brothers lips, still barely touching his "I can't Sammy, I can't do this. Your my brother. God knows i want to, but i can't do it Sam, don't ask me to do this" he pushed away from Sam.
The absence felt like a black hole as Sam stood as if rooted to the spot in shock. Not shock at Dean's reply but shock at his own actions. He wanted to die, how could he have just done that? why was he so stupid? those thoughts filled every corner of his mind like poison, closing around every good thing he had ever done and coating it in a layer of black as his last actions counter balanced every previous one. He felt sick, both mentally and physically, by what he had said, his words were stabbing him in places he didn't even know he could feel guilt and pain him, his self worth turning to ash, his world going collapsing in on itself and turning into a supernova sucking away every thing. He sank to his knees, there was no way he could go in and face Dean, he doubted if he could ever look his brother in the eyes again.
***
Dean paced the room back and forwards, his head was pounding like mad and he felt sick. After he had turned Sam down Dean had gone back to their room and swallowed every drop of alcohol he could find which had amounted to somewhere around the rest of the bottle of whiskey, two thirds of a bottle bottle of vodka, the contents of his flask and a good few painful gulps of whatever was in the stuff Sam used on cuts before he passed out cold. This morning he wasn't to craw under the bed and die and not just because of the hangover from hell.
He had noticed the second he woke up, well dragged himself into a semiconscious state might be a better description, that Sammy hadn't come in after the previous nights events. However having crawled off the bed and stumbled half blindly out of the motel room he noticed his brother curled up in the front seat of the impala and had shut himself back up in the motel room and downed five glasses of water in an attempt to rid himself of the hangover. It barely touched the sick feeling in his stomach but eventually coupled with his pacing he managed to shift the headache a few degrees towards bearable and then started wishing that he hadn't touched it as he started registering the emotional pain more as the physical pain subsided.
He was kicking himself for having turned Sam down but he still knew it was the right thing to have done. Dean knew he was a hopeless case, he was destined for a not so happy ever after life but he wasn't going to let Sam follow him down that road, Sam was still innocent, still good, Dean firmly believed he had influenced Sam with his own feelings subconsciously and the guilt that gave him was crippling. He refused to be his brothers downfall, Sam was Deans purpose in life, what would Dad have said if he had known that Dean wanted Sammy like that? Dean could answer that, in Deans mind he would have taken a .45 to him in an instant, after all, he was supposed to protect his baby brother not fall in fucking lo… no, no no no, he couldn't say that word, he couldn't be in love with Sam.
He stopped pacing and glanced through the net curtains covering the room windows, Sam was sitting, now fully awake, in the seat he had been sleeping in looking at the room in front of him and looking like he was about to be hung. He looked so small for a 6,4 guy, so in need of protecting, so in pain and so so desperate and Dean knew what he had to do.
He grabbed the motel room door handle and flung the door open, in the car he saw Sam flinch. Reaching the car in three strides he opened the driver door and hesitated before he took a seat.
"Sammy, we gotta talk" Dean sighed, Sam didn't move "about … you know what".
"It's fine Dean" Sam turned to face him, a smile weak but slightly believable turned the corners of his lips "I was drunk, you know what I get like on a little hard liqueur. I don't know what was going through my head. I think I was just confusing co-dependency with … well, something else".
His words slapped Dean in the face, that hadn't been what he had been aiming for with this conversation, not even close. he had rallied himself up for Sam's fight, for more words like the ones that been stuck in Deans mind for the past few hours, words about love and lust and whatever else Sam threw at him to convince him. part of him, a very small part being drowned out by the voice of reason most of the time, wanted Sammy to convince him, wanted it to be the right thing, wanted his dirty and bad thoughts to be mutual but Sam was right, of course he was right. This -the whole concept of there being a romantic 'us' between them- was ludicrous, they were brothers after all.
"Oh, right." He looked away "right."
They sat in silence, nether able to find anything to say that wouldn't make them suddenly the guilty party, both to wrapped up in words they couldn't say and touches they couldn't feel to think straight.
Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see Deans jaw clenching as hard as the fists Sam was hiding in his pockets, he bit down hard on his bottom lip half to keep it from trebling, half to keep from speaking out and begged whatever higher powers might exist to undo every word he had said.
"C'mon" Dean's voice startled him "We should get something to eat, I guess"
Sam nodded jerkily and followed his brother cautiously out of the car and into the motel room.
Dean stopped, leaning against the table, the fingers go one clenching the bridge of his nose in anguish. "God damn it Sammy" he thundered out of the blue "I can't just pretend last night didn't happen".
Closing the motel door behind him Sam took a shaky breath "what do you want me to say, Dean?"
"I I I I want … I Don't Know!" he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably biting back words like 'I want you to say you meant them' or 'I want you to say them again'
"'Cause if you want me to take them back i won't" Sam added watching his brother carefully.
"I …" Dean broke off "I kinda … don't want you to …?!" his voice was so quiet, hardly more than a whisper and Sam was sure he had heard wrong, sure his mind had added the 'don't' but he still asked "what?".
Dean hissed in frustration "I … forget it Sammy" he sighed.
"No, Dean …"
"Drop it!" Dean snapped and picked up his flask and took a swig hoping maybe he could repeat last nights escape.
But Sam didn't drop it, couldn't drop it when Dean was so clearly thinking it, not when the possibility of ending years upon years of suffering were just within reach of his finger tips so call him selfish but if this would end four years of unrequited love then god damn him he was going to try. He only trusted it as far as he could throw it but ether way he needed the doubt out of his mind, he had to know one way or another if Dean felt it or not and then he could move on or not have to. He closed the distance between them in two strides and his lips came down on Deans, hard, hot and passionate and it took Dean nearly thirty seconds of complete and utter bliss as Sam licked into his mouth before he realised what was actually happening.
"SAM!" he pushed him away, eyes wide in shock, brain trying to work out if he was dreaming or not "What the fuck are you doing?"
Sam didn't back down "I'm trying to prove a point" he almost panted, he could taste Dean on his lips amongst the tang of number 7 still somehow lingering on him from last night.
"What point could you possibly prove with … that?"
"That I'm not the only one who feels this. I know you feel it too, Dean".
Dean's flask slipped through his fingers, fear of discovery and disbelief mixing with the shock he already felt and that of what he was reading in Sam's face. And suddenly it was all to much, if it was wrong then damn him and if he wasn't already damned he sure as hell was about to be, he didn't even make a conscious decision to change his resolve, one moment he was trying to push Sam away and the next his lips smashed back against his brothers in a furious fire of passion that met Sam's and practically gave off sparks. if that moment, lips colliding and hands scrabbling for a hold in hair and clothes as instinct took over from sanity and they gave way to the inevitable, had caused a lightning storm nether would have been surprised.
Words were surplus, transmission was solely physical as fingers caressed words against each others skin only lingering traces of the doubt that was fast dying made Dean pant out "are you sure?".
Sam let out a low guttural moan in reply and pulled Dean forwards as he backed up, lips once again fighting for dominance that Dean was fast winning, until the backs of his legs hit the bed and they sank onto it without breaking their contact. That was enough for Dean, he had learned long ago that Sam couldn't be bullied or pushed into doing something he didn't want to do without a fucking heap of protestation and unless ripping clothes off someone now meant 'fuck off' Dean was a hundred percent sure Sam currently didn't have a single thing he wanted to protest about.
"God, I want you" Sam panted as he worked away Deans layers of clothes to bare skin and slid his palms across the skin above him "I've wanted you for so long Dean".
Sam's teeth bit into Deans neck not strong enough to break skin but just enough for there to be a bruise later and definitely enough to make Dean shudder in ecstasy "Oh fuck, Sammy" he groaned, his fingers trailed down from his brothers torso to the belt of Sam's ripped-at-the-knee jeans. It was like a race of who could get the other naked faster, the final mile of a marathon, the only thing which separated them from each other and the thin layers of fabric were unable to withstand and keep them from each other for a second longer and ripped under all to eager fingers, buttons popping, seams splitting and finally the feel of skin on skin encompassed them, consuming them in the flames of passion and distorting their awareness of everything but each other.
"You ever done this with a guy before?" Dean asked, the words pressed into his brothers neck while Sam sucked on his fingers and Sam shook his head as best he could, his own fingers closing around Deans aching member "Its only you Dean, only you" he managed around his brothers digits.
Pulling his hand away from Sam's eager mouth Dean shifted him further up the bed leaving a trail of bites and mouth and fingers slick with spit descended Sam's body. Sam arched away with a whimper as his brothers finger gently slid into his body, followed soon after by a second, "shhh, it's ok Sammy" Dean hushed tongue dancing patterns around Sam's cock and he gently applied a little more pressure to the soft stroke of his finger in Sam until Sam was pushing back against it begging for more, begging for Dean and holding back became almost to much to stand but he held off for Sam's sake, there would be a million more chances to fuck Sam into the mattress but this had to be gentle.
Crawling back up Sam's body Dean pressed kisses and filthy words of encouragement into Sam's mouth and slowly pushed himself into his brothers tight heat.
Sam let out an exquisite moan as Dean sank into him the pain almost to much to withstand but the pleasure to good to give up "Dean" he panted.
"You ok?" Dean checked gritting his teeth as he tried to control himself enough not to thrust into Sam with all his strength.
"Oh god yes" Sam gasped, his short nails digging into the skin of Deans back "Don't hold back, please, I can take it. I need you!" and Dean gave up, letting go of his self-control and letting the feeling of Sam consume him.
Nether took long to climax, one strong stroke against Sam's prostate was all it took to send him over the edge spurting between them and the way he all but screamed Deans name was enough to send Dean over the edge with him coming deep inside Sam with gasping praises and stuttered profanities.
Breathing hard they clung to each other, legs entwined, noses touching, the feeling still overwhelmingly strong.
"oh my god" Sam panted as soon as he found his voice, he didn't meet to specify, Dean already knew just as Sam did from a single look into his brothers eyes that this wasn't a one time thing and nether was regretting their actions in the slightest and somehow all of the waiting had just made it all so much better now it was finally theirs, no more pining away and secretly lusting over each other, they belonged to each other and no one else and that was never going to change again so long as they both did live.