Who You Belong To 2/7

[rain_n_snow]

The run of the mill salt and burn they accomplished in less than half a day, with no major catastrophe. Dean had been slammed into the wall by the ghost, and Sam was pretty sure he was hurting, but no one was bleeding or lost any limbs, so overall they called it a good day and a success.

Checking into the first cheap motel they came to, Dean announced he was going to shower and then try finding either a pool game or maybe a hand of poker to raise a little cash. After all, the night before had been a bust. He hadn’t tuned in enough or stayed long enough to even make a few bucks.

Surprised and agitated when Sam once again said he would come along, Dean couldn’t resist a taunt, “Gonna try to get laid twice in one week, Sam? That would probably be a record for you, huh?”

Sam just gave him his standard eye roll and refused to rise to the bait. He wasn’t sure he had anything to say that wouldn’t give him away somehow. Better to take the abuse than risk saying something that he was really thinking. He was just too close to the edge, his feelings too raw lately, between trying to figure out Dean’s moods and his own escalating longings. He was going to try avoiding spending the whole night watching Dean pick out his next lay, and just get drunk and forget for a while.

Two hours later they were in a bar, the only one in this little crap town. Dean was drinking more than usual, and had practically snarled at the few women who had approached him. He was not in the mood, mostly because he was tired and hurting and damn if he wasn’t thinking about Sam way too much again.

‘What the fuck?’ Dean practically flew across the room to his baby brother’s side, grabbing the asshole’s arm from around Sam’s neck and slamming his face into the bar in one fluid motion. “You don’t touch him, you fuck. Actually, you don’t even look at him, let alone talk to him. Got it?”

He wasn’t sure who looked more confused, the guy who had suddenly found his face pressed to a dirty bar by some random stranger, or Sam.

‘Shit.’ How was he going to explain this away? ‘Damn, Dean, you are certainly one smooth fucker.’ Dean tried to get his breathing under control. His jaw was clenched so tight he was afraid he would hear his own teeth cracking inside his head. He had just lost it. He had been skirting the razor’s edge all night, watching this guy come onto Sam. But when he saw him throw his arm around Sam and lean in like he was going to kiss him, something inside him had just snapped. Obviously. Now what?

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know he had a boyfriend.” His voice was muffled because he could not only not move his mouth from the foul smelling bar top, but Dean’s hand was still pressing the side of his head down painfully.

“Just keep your filthy hands to yourself,” Dean warned, giving him one last shove before grabbing Sam’s arm and practically dragging him out the front door of the dive.

Sam stumbled along after Dean, unable to form a fully coherent thought, “What the fuck, Dean?” He jerked his arm from Dean’s too tight grasp, “What the fuck?”

Throwing open the door of the Impala, Dean dropped into the driver’s seat and started the growling engine, barely waiting until Sam had closed his door before screeching out of the parking lot.

Sam got his breathing under control and turned to Dean, “Seriously, I need to know what is wrong with you? Where did all that come from? What was all that?” Shaking his head in complete bewilderment, Sam refused to look away.

“I…well, I just thought he was bothering you, Sam.” Dean knew how lame his excuse sounded, hell, it sounded like bullshit to his own ears, but he didn’t know what else to say. No reasonable explanation came to mind, and besides, he could hardly hear himself think past the roaring of blood in his ears.

“Bothering me? You tore into him like he was trying to kill me, not just talking to me. Geez man, you are weird. You have been seriously fucked up lately.”

Sam realized suddenly that Dean hadn’t corrected the man when he assumed they were lovers. Probably just the heat of the moment, but Sam liked the feeling it gave him, so he turned it over in his mind, storing it to take out later and enjoy later. Right now he was too drunk to really analyze it.

Dean practically growled at him. “Sorry if I cock blocked you back there, dude. Want me to take you back so you can fuck that guy?”

Sam jerked back as if he had been slapped. “What? Seriously, are you possessed or something? I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“He was fucking you with his eyes all night. He wanted you, Sam. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, but if I had I wouldn’t have ruined your mojo.”

This was insane. Sam wasn’t just confused, he was stunned. Last he knew, Dean had been playing pool and flirting with every random chick yet again while Sam was casually talking to some local farm boy, wishing he was back in the room doing research, or better yet, back in the room with Dean, even if they were just watching tv and having a few beers. So what had happened that brought all this about?

Something must have happened. Maybe Dean had lost a lot of money, which would be unusual. Dean hustled pool like he was born to it and Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had lost, usually coming away with enough money for them to live on for weeks after just a few hours of the game. But even that wouldn’t really explain the crazy outburst. Maybe Dean was wound too tight and it was time for a break from hunting for a few days.

They were quiet the rest of the way to the motel, both immersed in their own thoughts and unsure about talking, or what should be said if they did speak.

Dean’s insides were so knotted up he felt like he was sick. Which he was, right? I mean, being insanely jealous of your brother just talking to some guy in a bar?

He was sure the guy had different ideas about the outcome of that conversation than his brother did, but just knowing that the guy was watching Sam, thinking about all the things Dean envisioned: what Sam’s mouth tasted like, what it would feel like to put his lips on that long throat and feel Sam’s heartbeat under his mouth, how Sam would look laid out under him, begging to be fucked, the noises Sam might make during sex.

Just thinking about that fucking freak, some nobody with no fucking right, wanting and imagining those things from Sam made him want to seriously tear something up, destroy something, beat someone bloody.

When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam was out of the car without another word, or even a look. Dean just hoped Sam thought Dean was overwrought, and had no concept of the reason behind the outburst. He knew that if Sam ever caught even a glimpse of the need Dean had for him, he would leave again, leave Dean behind, holding his bleeding, shredded heart, knowing he would never feel normal or good again. He wasn’t sure he could do that again. The little pieces of Sam that he was allowed to hold weren’t nearly enough, but they were enough to keep him sane.

By the time Dean entered the room, Sam was already in the bathroom, and he could hear the sound of the shower starting. Just knowing Sam was in there, probably already naked pushed him even further in his edginess. So many times he imagined going into the bathroom while Sam was showering, about taking off his clothes and slipping in with him.

Dammit, he had to get this shit under control. He had dealt with these feelings for so long, why were they so overwhelming lately? Time to get back to normal, or whatever a messed up freak like himself could call normal.

Dean was sitting on the end of his bed, flipping through the limited channels available in this shithole of a motel when Sam came out of the bathroom, still dripping and wearing nothing but a low slung towel around his hips. Dean forced his eyes not to linger, and instead focused his attention back on the tv.

Catching the quick glimpse from his brother, and not sure what was up with Dean lately, Sam shook his head, and rummaged through his backpack, coming up with a pair of clean jeans and a soft, faded t-shirt.

Dean clenched his jaw and studiously avoided looking toward his brother as he dressed just a few scant feet away. Damn, it was like lately Sam had been trying to push him over his limit without even realizing what he was doing. All the fucking touching and brushing up against him. Now he was getting dressed in plain sight, which meant first getting completely naked in plain sight as well.

Sam glanced over to see if Dean had even noticed his little strip show, but as usual, Dean appeared lost in his own world. But not the happy go lucky Dean world, this was a tortured, heavy world and Sam was starting to worry. For the last three weeks or so Dean’s focus had been turned in on himself and that felt all wrong, something was weighing on him.

Sam went to the bed Dean was on and sat down close to his brother, close enough that their thighs almost touched, and Dean’s eyes flickered down to the point where their thighs lay side by side.

Bumping Dean’s shoulder with his own, Sam grunted softly. “You ok, Dean?” Sam watched the back of Dean’s neck, focusing on the soft whorls of hair that he longed to brush with his lips. He was so tired of fighting it, so tired of all the pretense.

He had been brushing up against Dean recently, just casual bumps as they passed at the bathroom door, or a fingertip brushed over wrist when handing his brother a beer, nudging Dean with his shoulder when they walked side by side. Just generally crowding Dean, pushing him, seeing what kind of reaction he could get, and, if he was honest, just enjoying the sensation of touch. If it bothered Dean, or if he even noticed, Sam didn’t see it.


There was the one incident, just two days ago.

Dean had ended up with glass shards decorating the palm of his left had. He had dug them all out with the point of his knife, Sam watching with a grimace on his face and a need he wasn’t sure he could name in his belly, until finally with a quiet “fuck it” Dean seemed to give up on one, tossing his knife onto the dresser.

Sam walked over and took Dean’s hand in his. Dean didn’t recoil, they had patched each other up too many times to remember, too many for it to seem odd or out of place. But then Sam dropped his head forward enough so his hair covered at least part of his face, while raising Dean’s middle finger to his mouth. Darting his tongue out, he ran it over the soft pad of the finger until he felt the tiny piece of glass, then nipped at it softly, trying to get it out with his teeth.

Dean sucked in a huge, silent breath and held it, unable to tear his gaze away from Sam’s mouth on his skin, that soft tongue running over his flesh, his cock immediately hard and throbbing. And then Sam drew his finger into that hot, wet mouth and sucked and Dean almost came instantly. Those few seconds felt like an eternity and yet were over so quickly he wanted to cry out. Then Sam grunted softly, laying Dean’s wounded hand softly on his own thigh before spitting the splinter into his hand.

Sam had immediately pushed up from the bed, heading for the bathroom under the pretense of washing his mouth out, but he didn’t. He ran the water while he tried to get his own erection under control and held that flavor in his mouth, that taste of Dean’s blood and the taste of Dean’s skin in his mouth. Sure that in all of Dean’s sordid life, that combination of things was something only Sam had experienced and he didn’t want to wash it away. He wanted to clutch it to himself and commit it to memory.

And in those minutes apart, they both got themselves under control, and neither of them had mentioned it, just went about like it, as so many other recent touches and brushes and bumps hadn’t happened or didn’t matter.

But that was weird in itself, right? I mean, how many touches had Sam allowed himself to actually take over the years, and now with all these recently, Dean had said nothing. No strange looks, no shoving back at him, not even a complaint. Sam laid that thought out in his mind and dissected it. Sam was good at cataloguing with his mind, tearing down a problem and putting it back together to make it work, to explain it, understand it.

So, Dean wasn’t annoyed by the touching, that seemed obvious, because he never had hesitated to tell Sam to ‘knock it off’ when he was aggravated by anything. That was interesting.

Bracing himself, Sam decided to take it one step further, not enough to push Dean into acknowledging what he was doing, but enough help him gain a clearer picture of where they stood with this whole mess. Sam leaned down and just brushed his lips over his brother’s nape, barely even disturbing the baby fine hair there.

A shiver coursed through Dean, who had been holding himself still, so still ever since that hot hard thigh of Sam’s had laid up against his own.

Then it happened, so subtle Sam might have missed it if he wasn’t so very aware of everything about his brother, wasn’t tuned into him from a lifetime of being so close, closer than brothers, closer than lovers, like two halves of a whole; Dean leaned into the caress, and Sam felt that tiny capitulation like a wave crashing over him.

So Sam gave Dean what his body was silently asking for. He opened his mouth and tongued the back of Dean’s neck, savoring the flavor he dreamt about, yearned for since…forever. It tasted like coming home, like what he imagined it would feel like for someone who had been paralyzed all their life to suddenly feel their legs, to feel all of themselves for the first time. He thought he might weep with the feeling.

Dean’s breathing hitched, and Sam’s mouth made its way from the back of his neck around the smooth soft skin up toward Dean’s jaw line, licking and running his lips over as much of that bared beautiful flesh as he could reach.

Finally Dean lost whatever inner battle he was fighting, and he turned with a gasp into Sam, coming over him and on top of him in one fluid motion. “Sam?” He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to ruin whatever moment they were having, but he had to make sure this was what Sam wanted, what he really was asking for.

“Please Dean, kiss me, please. Want so much to taste your mouth.”

Dean crushed his mouth over Sam’s, open and wet and diving inside immediately to find all the places he wanted to conquer, to draw into himself. Sam tasted like innocence and sex, and Sam. Like everything Dean wanted all in one delicious, heart stopping flavor.

They were frantic now, practically clawing at each other, pulling hair and slanting mouths, desperate to get closer, to get it all as soon as possible. It was too many years in the making to be careful, to be slow or cautious.

Sam’s hands were under Dean’s soft t shirt, skimming over all that gorgeous skin and muscle. He had wondered so many times what it would feel like to touch Dean, how different from touching a woman. And the answer was, it was a different thing altogether, a perfection even in his daydreams and fantasies he hadn’t contemplated.

“Off,” Sam demanded as he pulled the t shirt up, then sat up enough to pull off his own before dragging Dean back down. The touch of skin to skin drawing a hiss from Dean and a moan from Sam.

Dean stopped kissing Sam long enough to drag his mouth over the soft skin of Sam’s cheek, then jaw, dropping a quick sucking kiss to the soft vulnerable spot he had focused on so many times just behind Sam’s ear, barely covered by that disheveled hair. Sam was writhing beneath him and against him, and damn if it didn’t feel like they fit like two pieces of a puzzle.

Continuing his biting, licking kissing down the column of Sam‘s throat, Dean sucked another quick bruise to the juncture of Sam’s neck and shoulder, feeling Sam’s hardness press into his belly as he drug his body down his brother’s.

He knew he was sucking too hard, that his mouth, frantic on Sam’s torso, had to hurt, but he couldn’t seem to control it. He needed more, more of Sam’s flavor, the essence flowing out from Sam’s skin and into his mouth, soothing his heart and soul. Nothing was too much. Hell, nothing was enough.

He was biting and licking and sucking at Sam’s flesh, knowing he was marking him over and over and it didn’t matter. No, that wasn’t true. It did matter, he wanted to know that under those layers of clothes tomorrow he would have a mental map of all those marks that he could see in his mind’s eye as he sat across the table from Sam, acting for all the world as if they hadn’t fucked, hadn’t made love, hadn’t taken and given everything of themselves tonight. He dipped his tongue into Sam’s navel, swirling and lapping.

Sam was up on his elbows now, belly quivering, watching Dean lick him and brand him with his mouth, and this was the most surreal moment of his life. How had it finally come to this? A lifetime of need being fulfilled by this one precious human, the only one who mattered.

Dean’s hands shook, from a combination of desperate need and nerves, as he drew the button of Sam’s jeans through its hole and unzipped them as quickly as possible, unable to slow his movements no matter how badly he wanted this to last. He could only hope that there would be another chance, another million chances for all the other ways he needed Sam to come to fruition. Leaning up long enough to pull his brother’s jeans and boxers down and off long, muscled legs, he drew in long, steadying breaths and started to settle back between Sam’s thighs. “Damn if you aren’t incredibly beautiful, Sammy.

“Your’s too, I want to see you too, please, Dean.” Sam’s eyes were flicking between Dean’s darkened green eyes and the straining bulge of his erection.

Ridding himself of his own jeans and boxer briefs in one quick motion, he kept his eyes on Sam’s, his own excitement ratcheting up another notch as he watched the lust blow out his brother’s eyes, latched onto his dick, hard as he could ever remember it being and moist with his own pre-come.

Before he could lean down to take Sam’s own weeping erection into his mouth as he had been anticipating, he found himself jerked from his kneeling position to under his brother in the blink of an eye. Sam smiled down at Dean, too many emotions to register shining from those eyes.

Sam began his own exploration down Dean’s more compact frame after kissing him hard and deep one more time. He licked a long swath down Dean’s neck, dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base his big brother’s throat, then dragging his teeth along his clavicle, sucking his own mark there, enjoying the gasp of pleasure pain from Dean’s lips when he bit and sucked too hard.

Fingers digging into thick pectoral muscles, Sam latched onto one of Dean’s pebble hard nipples, nipping and laving the tight bud before moving to treat the other to the same pleasure. Dean’s fingers twined in Sam’s hair, sifting and clutching the silky strands. Apparently Dean’s nipples were really sensitive. Sam catalogued that fact in the back of his mind, smiling into the now moist skin before moving down his body, his fingers lingering to pull and pinch the now sensitized skin as he licked ribs and taut stomach muscles, treating each ridge to a drag of teeth and tongue.

Sucking a bruise onto the jut of Dean’s hipbone, Sam looked up into his eyes and held them as he rose to breathe a hot sigh over Dean’s cock, teasing him as long as he was able to stand it before licking a long stripe from the base to the head, lingering at the sweet spot just underneath. Dean groaned and his hands fisted painfully in Sam’s hair, but Sam loved it, loved that he was making Dean lose control like this.

Sam held Dean’s cock softly by the base, and aiming it upward just enough, drew the whole length in with one fast motion, causing Dean’s hips to surge up off the bed. When his dick hit the back of Sam’s throat he almost lost it and then was brought back to himself enough for control when he realized what had just happened. “Sammy, I’m sorry. I…” He wasn’t sure what to say, but Sam was shaking his head and smiled.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Dean, I want you as deep in my throat as I can get you, you aren’t forcing me.” He went back to sucking, drawing groans out of Dean as he took that huge cock deeper into his throat with every downward stroke.

Dean pulled hard on Sam’s hair, “Stop…Sam, stop. I’m gonna lose it…” His breath hissed in through clenched teeth as Sam pulled off of him with one last swirling lick around the head.

Moving back up Dean’s body, Sam smiled, despite the painful throbbing of his own unrelieved erection.

After he caught his breath for a moment, Dean looked up into Sam’s beautiful face, watching the hazel eyes as he hesitantly asked. “So…I don’t know. I mean…I’ve never done this…have you thought about whether you’d want to be…I mean…”

Sam smiled as he rolled them both onto their sides, urging Dean back on top of him. “Hell yes, Dean. I’ve thought about this so many fucking times. I want you inside me. So bad.”

“You sure? Cause I hear it hurts.” And a dawning realization came to his eyes. “Sam? Have you already? I mean, with someone else?” Dean could hear the panic in his own voice, the neediness, and he hated it, but he wasn’t sure he could stand to hear Sam say he had wanted anyone else this way.

Sam’s brow furrowed for a second, “No. No Dean, never done this. Never done anything like this. I’m not gay, I’m just…I’m just yours, I guess.” He blushed and his eyes slid away.

“Don’t hide from me Sam.” Dean whispered, humbled by the words.

“I…have you, Dean? I mean, its not like…” He fumbled, not sure how to ask, but needing to know.

“No. Never, guess I belong to you too, Sammy, cause you are the only guy I ever thought of like this, ever.”

Kissing once more, once again frantic with need, and now with a new aspect to the urgency, they rubbed against each other, both on the razor’s edge of coming completely undone from the situation as well as the words spoken.

Raising his head just enough to see Sam’s face again, Dean panted harshly, “What are we gonna use for lube?”

“My backpack, side pocket.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up questioningly but he didn’t hesitate to fumble for the backpack laying next to the bed and grunting softly in triumph when he located it.

He kissed Sam hard on the lips and leaned back, his knees between his little brother’s thighs, and looked down at how Sam spread out for him. So ready and anxious, so fucking beautiful it literally took his breath away. Spreading a large amount onto two fingers, Dean leaned forward as Sam lifted his knees, placing his feet on the bed.

Kissing the slick head of Sam’s cock, Dean pressed a finger against his brother’s puckered entrance, his finger sliding in fairly easily. He moaned softly against the hard muscle and soft skin of Sam’s lower abdomen, tongue licking out to stroke the hard cock so close. He twisted his finger, enjoying the soft tightness surrounding his digit.

“Dean,” Sam groaned, “More please…mmm. Please.”

Dean pushed another finger in to join the first, feeling a slight tensing of Sam’s muscles, but it was easier going than he expected, and he raised slightly questioning eyes to Sam. Their lifetime of connection pushing to the fore, Sam seemed to read his brother’s mind through those glowing green orbs.

He blushed again, or maybe it was blushed hotter, because he was pretty on fire in every way at this point. “I…well, I told you I have thought about you doing this forever. So, I have used my fingers…” He trailed off, partially out of embarrassment, and partially because he could hardly catch his breath between the sexiness of Dean’s face resting so close to his aching prick and the incredible pressure of his fingers massaging the inside of his ass.

“Please, Dean, I need it. I’m ready…just come on. I want to feel that gorgeous cock inside me. I’ve waited so fucking long.” Sam gripped Dean’s biceps, urging him to raise up and give him what he so desperately wanted.

Dean settled his hips between Sam’s spread ones and Sam immediately encircled his brother’s narrow pelvis with his long legs, drawing him close, ready to start begging. But he didn’t need to, because Dean was pressing the head of his cock against that slick entrance, groaning and dropping his head back when it slipped inside, only to be gripped tighter than he could have imagined inside Sam. Dean jerked slightly, trying to go slow, but his hips and thighs were trembling with the effort.

Unable to stand how slow Dean was moving now that they were finally joined and he was getting what he wanted so badly, Sam drove his hips up into his brother, pushing Dean deeper. That pushed Dean past his ability to think and he slammed the rest of the way in, pausing to glance down and make sure his brother was ok, that he hadn’t hurt him.

The look on his little brother’s face was the breaking point and Dean pulled out almost completely and pushed back in, his body overwhelmed with the delicious tight pull of Sam’s body. Damn, he had never felt anything so tight and hot. He could feel the tight pull low in his abdomen, feel his balls tingling with the need to release.

“Let me see you, Dean. I need it, look at me, big brother.” Sam pleaded breathily.

Their eyes locked as Dean’s hips undulated, pushing as deep as he could go and slamming out and back in with a frenzy he knew was going to make him come faster than he wanted, but hell, not only did this feel better than anything so far in his life, but the sight of Sam spread beneath him, eyes blown wide with his own swiftly approaching orgasm was too much. Sam was keening quietly with every stroke, angled just right for Dean to hit his prostate with every movement.

“Holy fuck, Sammy. Come for me.” Dean reached down and fisted Sam’s dick, pulling and twisting in time with his thrusts, “Show me how good it feels. I’m so close, baby, come with me….come.”

Groaning and crying out, they came almost in unison, Sam spewing his seed across his own belly and up Dean’s just moments before Dean pulsed out his own release deep within Sam.

Collapsing, Dean felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest. He thought he had experienced everything with all the random hook ups in his life, but this was beyond anything.

They laid there, entwined and gasping for long moments, Sam’s release slicking between them while they attempted to catch their breath and come to some understanding of what had just finally happened.

Finally, Sam raised a sluggishly heavy arm to Dean’s sweat slick back, rubbing the nape of Dean’s neck and hair softly, thinking how this spot was how it had started.

“Dean?” He was hesitant, the fear that Dean would be sorry or upset by what had just happened clenching in his belly, “You ok? We ok?”

“No.” Dean said quietly, and smiled against Sam’s skin when he felt the instant tension, “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking awesome, man. You felt incredible to me, baby. I hope it felt anywhere close to that for you.”

Sam pulled hard on Dean’s hair, “You fucker. You scared me.” He forced Dean to look up at him despite his exhaustion.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, right Sam?” Dean looked deep into Sam’s eyes, knowing Sam never could lie to him.

“Dean, you have no idea. I thought I would come just from you pushing inside me. No matter how many times I thought about it, I had no idea it would feel that fucking good.” He licked Dean’s lip with little flicks of his tongue. “Next time, your turn.” He smiled.

Dean bit down on Sam’s lower lip and grunted dubiously, but he had already thought about how much he wanted to feel Sam buried deep inside him. “Ok, but I’m gonna need a lot more prep than you, Sam. I haven’t been preparing for that like you.”

Sam looked embarrassed and cringed.

“Don’t.” Dean demanded. “I think its hot as fuck that you did that thinking about me. I’m gonna make you show me. Soon.”

With that, they snuggled back in, sleep overtaking them both within moments.


chap 3