Title: Screwed up
Rating: NC-17 (last part only)
Summary: Dean kisses Sam and it's over so quickly that it's almost funny, but Sam doesn't laugh. He just stands there expecting Dean to have all the answers just like he always does and Dean hates that because he never does have any answers.
Note: This was written for the first Finish it all off Ficathon, my prompt was the summary. Originally, this was only one chapter but </a></font></b></a>silverstrings  managed to inspire me to write more and so now this story has four chapters! Yay!
Wordcount: 1,983

 
 

 

Two days later and Dean’s ready to throttle his brother. They’re still in town and Sam has refused to leave until he can sit down without wincing. His brother is convinced that if they go to another town, they’ll find trouble and then his wounds won’t get time to heal. Dean had replied that they could get into trouble in this town which led to Sam refusing to let him set as much as one foot outside of the room unsupervised. Dean feels like a five year old but unfortunately, Sam seems to have developed immunity for his cold glares.

Dean’s trying his best not to wince but he’s not doing such a good job at hiding it. It’s always completely obvious he’s trying not to let it show and since his brother has learned to read him, there’s no chance in hell he can pull it off.

Saying he’s bored would be the understatement of the century. Daytime television sucks and he’s not exactly keen on watching porn when Sam’s on the room which leaves him with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Sam’s got that stupid laptop of his to keep him occupied and Dean feels like taking it away and breaking it so Sam can experience what it is to be bored. He’s not that mean though so he listens to the sounds of Sam typing on the keyboard.

Sam has gone back to his normal self, albeit a little more worried than normal. Dean’s glad that the uncomfortable silence and angry stares and retorts are over. It sort of unnerves him too because he has no idea what Sam is up to. He’s made it clear that he’s not giving up but so far, he hasn’t shown any sign of acting on those words. It makes Dean wonder and it drives him crazy. Does he want Sam to kiss him again ? Does he want him to take control?

Maybe he does. He wants Sam to take the decision out of his hands because if Sam wants this as much as he does, then it’s not all his fault. It’s screwed up logic, he knows that but he doesn’t want to be the one making the decision of where this is heading. He can’t deal with it.

The ceiling gets boring and he closes his eyes. He has taken a lot of naps out of sheer boredom. Pretty soon his whole sleeping rhythm is going to be shot to hell. He sighs.

“You okay?” Sam immediately asks.

If he hears that question one more time, he’s going to shoot Sam.

“Peachy,” he mutters sarcastically.

Sam stops typing and the bed dips.

“Let me take a look at your wound.”

Dean opens his eyes and raises his eyebrow.

“To see how it’s healing.” Sam explains.

Dean lifts his shirt.

“Seems like it’s healing nicely.”

 “Awesome. So we’re leaving.” Dean sits up slowly. There’s only a dull ache now and he doesn’t wince but his jaw clenches briefly. Sam puts a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Sam.” Dean growls. He’s sick of this motel room. He wants to drive away.

“We’ll leave tomorrow.” Sam promises. His hand slides up to his neck and his thumb rests against his cheek. Dean doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t want to. Sam’s staring intently at him and Dean holds his gaze, not exactly sure what Sam wants but he lets his mask slip, not hiding that longing he has for Sam, not hiding the confusion or fear of what this might do to them, not hiding the guilt of having said ‘no’.

“Dean…” Sam whispers, traces of wonder in his voice.

Sam squeezes his neck reassuringly and then leans in. Their lips meet and Dean unwillingly lets out a satisfied moan. Sam places his free hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down on the bed. Sam straddles him and then deepens the kiss, applying more pressure. Dean fists his hand into Sam’s thick and soft hair. He nibbles on Sam’s lower lip and then sooths over it with his tongue. Sam moans. And god, Dean loves the sound of his brother moaning. It really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

His other hand wanders over Sam’s broad and muscled back, he likes the feel of the muscles flexing under his touch. His hand slips under the t-shirt and Sam shivers at the coldness of his hands. His hand slides up his back before moving back down and sliding in his jeans just a little bit. Sam involuntarily thrusts down. Dean’s hips arch up in response.

“Dean,” Sam moans breathlessly against his mouth. Lust flares uncontrollably and his lips close over Sam’s. He pries his lips open with his tongue and devours his mouth. Sam’s rubbing his growing erection over his and Dean thrusts up, meeting every downwards thrust. It’s frustrating though with clothes on.

His hands grab onto Sam’s hips, effectively preventing him from moving. He breaks the kiss. Sam straightens up and pulls off his t-shirt. One of Dean’s hands slide to the front of his jeans. He undoes the button and pulls the zipper down. His hand slips inside and he cups his brother’s growing erection through the material of his boxer’s. Sam moans and thrusts in his hand. Dean squeezes a little and Sam gasps.

Dean isn’t against the idea of letting Sam come now but then it’s game over and he’s not up for that. He pulls his hand free and he slides the offending material down his slim hips. Sam pulls them off the rest of the way and Dean watches him struggle with the material. He drinks in the sight of his naked body. His gaze runs over his very muscles chest but what really draws his attention is his erection which is proudly jutting upwards.

“Dean, you’re overdressed.” Sam says. Dean’s eyes snap up to Sam’s face. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are black and dilated, lust clear in his eyes.

Dean nods and pulls of his t-shirt while Sam works on his jeans. He raises up his hips so Sam can slide them down his legs. Finally they’re both naked.

Dean is dimly aware of the ache in his side. For all he cares, he can pull a stitch. He’s too hot and bothered too care. Sam’s mouth latches on to his throat. Dean tilts his head back and his hand slides into Sam’s hair again.

Sam’s mouth moves lower, licking teasingly over a nipple before taking the little bud into his mouth and sucking. Dean’s hips arch off the bed, looking for some kind of lower body contact. Sam reaches between them and takes his dick in his hand. He pumps slowly, teasingly.

Sam leaves open-mouthed kisses down his chest and abdomen. He smiles up wickedly before taking his erection in his mouth. Dean’s hips arch up automatically, trying to get deeper into the welcoming heat and wetness. He moans.

Sam doesn’t stop him from thrusting up so he doesn’t stop. It feels so good. Every time he thrusts in, Sam swallows. Shit, he can feel his release building inside of him.

Dean’s aware of Sam’s fingers sliding lower, teasing the opening to his body.

“Sammy,” The name leaves his mouth in throaty whisper. He wants to tell him to stop, that he doesn’t bottom but damn it, his body’s drawing the finger in deeper. He usually doesn’t mind his body taking on a will of its own because it leads to good fucks but this is not how it’s supposed to go. And yet his few still functioning brain cells are telling him to just let Sam do this.

Sam’s other hand comes down on his hip, restraining him from thrusting up. His erection pops free from Sam’s mouth and he voices his disappointment.

Sam smirks and Dean’s left to wonder when Sam became so confident in bed. Last time, he was just letting him to do what he wanted and now he is taking control. He has to admit he likes it.

“Remember what the doctor said, you gotta take it easy.”

Dean grumbles, almost afraid Sam’s going to stop but he doesn’t. His finger is still steadily sliding in and out.

“Do you want this?” Sam asks then, looking rather insecure for the first time since this started. Dean nods because that’s all that he’s capable of.

Sam grins and then reaches over, grabbing lube out of the nightstand. Dean raises an eyebrow and Sam smiles a little. He was definitely prepared.

He generously coated two fingers with the lube and then he was pushing inside of him again. Two fingers was definitely more painful than one but it didn’t take him that long to adjust and let out satisfied moan. Sam took his time in preparing in, making sure he was loose and ready. It was driving Dean crazy. He wasn’t going to break, damn it and he needed Sam to fuck him already.

“Sam.” Dean growls. Sam’s eyes meet his and he can tell his brother gets the message. He pulls out his three fingers. Sam takes hold of his hips and forces him to raise them up a little. Before he knows it, Sam’s erection is pushing inside of him carefully. It stings but he welcomes it.

Sam’s panting and Dean can tell his brother’s holding back for his sake. He’s not some girl, he doesn’t mind it rough and slightly painful.

“Come on, Sam.” He hisses. He pushes back until Sam’s buried all the way inside of him. Sam gasps.

“Don’t want to hurt you.” Sam whispers, trembling with the effort to stay still.

“Don’t care.” Dean replies. He can see the last of his brother’s self control slip away and then Sam’s pounding into him. Dean squeezes his eyes shut at a sharp stab of pain, they fly open again when pleasure seems to explode throughout his entire body. There are moans and whimpers filling the room but Dean’s too far gone to tell which sound comes from who. His erection is pounding and he takes it into his hand.

It only takes him a couple of strokes to come. His ass automatically clenches around Sam’s dick second before a warm liquid explodes inside of him. Sam collapses on top of him, panting heavily against his neck. Dean wraps his arms around him and soothingly rubs his back, waiting for his own breathing to return to normal.

He lets out a little groan as Sam shifts and his soft penis slides out.

“You okay?” Sam mumbles.

“Never better.”

Dean’s still not sure what this whole thing means but whatever it is, he likes it. Maybe they just need this to relieve stress, to deal with stuff. Maybe there’s more to it. In either case, it feels good. Not right but good.

Sam presses a kiss against his neck and pulls away, flopping down next to him.

“We should probably shower.” Sam suggests but his tone suggests his not really in the mood for that.

Dean nods. “Probably.”

They lay side by side for a couple of minutes.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatever this thing between us is… I know you can’t explain it and neither can I but just remember, it’s you and me.” Sam says.

Dean turns his head to look at him. It’s you and me. That just kind of says it all. It’s always been them. They’ve always been able to rely on each other when the world had forsaken them. They have helped each other through some pretty bad shit. They need each other in ways that other people will never be able to understand because they’ve never gone through the crap they’ve gone through. And maybe that makes them screwed up but he doesn’t care. It’s him and Sammy and it’s always been like that.
 

THE END