Who You Belong To 3/7

[rain_n_snow]

Dean didn’t realize he was digging bruising fingers into his own thighs as he watched Sam through the Impala window. He was too focused on what was going on inside the bookstore to notice, not that he would have cared about the bruises anyway. The shift in their relationship, this whole situation was new, but it hadn’t taken him long to feel possessive. Hell, if he was honest even with himself he would have to admit that he had been possessive of Sam even before they had become so much more.

Sam hoped Dean was watching, because, even though the guy actually was cute, not that he could hold a candle to how gorgeous Dean was, Sam certainly wouldn’t be openly flirting with him without a purpose. After all, Sam was in a place with Dean that finally felt like home, like he belonged and fit for the first time in any real way in his whole life.

He was more than content, he was deep down, soul achingly happy, but he doubted Dean believed that. So, he cocked his head and looked up at the guy from under his disheveled bangs, flashing what Dean called his ‘puppy dog eyes‘, and a hint of deep dimples.

Later Dean wouldn’t know for sure where the bruises came from, but he slammed his fists into his already slightly abused thighs when he saw ‘that look’ from Sam. His Sam. His look. It wasn’t his imagination, Sam was flirting, and it was eating him up.

When Sam finally got into the car, he looked at Dean, and was disappointed at the lack of response. Dean barely glanced at him, and he would have taken that as a possible sign of jealousy, but Dean seemed totally relaxed and unaware of anything that he had tried to set up back in the bookstore. Damn, he had been looking forward to jealous Dean, and all that might entail now that they were…well, whatever they were. More than just brothers and best friends, finally.

So when they arrived back at the motel room later on that afternoon, basic information in hand and bellies full from another greasy diner, Sam was unprepared to be thrown up against the doorjamb, face to the wall, before he was two steps into the room, or the quiet, dark voice so close to his ear. “Did you get his number, Sammy?”

Anyone who didn’t know Dean better than his own face wouldn’t recognize the voice for the dangerous warning it was, but there was no mistaking the fingers encircling his wrists, pressed up against the wall, or the body crowding him close, just close enough to feel raging body heat, but not the satisfying press of that muscular body.

“Answer me, Sam. Did you get his number?”

Sam’s breath hitched. He had asked for this, and deep down he knew with a soul deep knowledge that Dean would never hurt him. But that voice caused his heart to stutter, and he was instantly scared. “Uh…” he shook his head, as if he really was confused, because his brain suddenly wasn’t working the way it should. “What?”

“Don’t fuck with me Sam.” Dean let out a huff that could have been mistaken as a laugh if it wasn’t so obvious that he was nowhere near a laughing place right now. “That guy you were flirting with this morning…did you think I didn’t see you? Or that I just wouldn’t fucking make you sorry?”

“Yeah, he gave me his number.” Sam’s reply came out soft and hesitant.

Dean wasn’t really prepared for that answer. Despite seeing the flirting, he had been certain Sam hadn’t intended to actually see the guy. What the fuck? His anger was starting to get the best of him, and now he was scared.

Scared of how much this whole thing could really hurt him, because right now his gut was already feeling like it could chew through his flesh, fear cranking up the anger about ten notches. “So, you wanna fuck him, Sam? Is that it? Maybe my dick isn’t enough for you. You plan to see him tonight, give him what you were promising with those fucking looks earlier?”

Sam wasn’t sure this was playing out the way he intended. He wanted to make Dean jealous, cause, hell, Dean jealous was one of the hottest things ever, and Dean had a lot of hot sides. But now he was pretty sure he had fucked up, and needed to backtrack, make it right before he ruined this…this everything he had finally found with Dean. “No. No, Dean…I…”

But all thoughts were driven from his head as Dean pressed against him with his whole body, shoving Sam into the wall, grinding his hips against his little brother almost violently. “Shut up, Sam. Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear it. Apparently you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

Sam’s insides twisted savagely at those words. Oh yes, he wanted to be reminded. Wanted Dean to show him just how much he belonged to him. This was still so new, this acceptance of what he had always known, felt and wanted deep inside himself, and he wanted reassurance that Dean felt it too, at least a little.

Dean’s mouth came down hard and open and wet against the side of Sam’s neck, just below that silky fall of hair Dean couldn’t get enough of, and he sucked. Sucked hard, and bit down on the tendon as Sam stretched for him, opening himself to Dean’s mouth and teeth, breath coming heavy now.

Dean sucked until he tasted blood, bit until he knew it had to hurt, but Sam didn’t resist, didn’t complain, hell he was trying to lean into it, wanting it, and still it wasn’t enough. Tomorrow it would be almost black, that brand. The symbol that said Sam belonged to him, there for anyone to see, for everyone to see, but mostly for Sam and Dean to see. To remember.

When Dean finally let go and drew his head back to see his work, a deep satisfaction filled him, but the fear and jealousy was still there, hard on his back, and inside him. “Tomorrow, we go back there. You get to look at your fucking boyfriend and show him my mark on you. And I will be there, Sam, right over your shoulder, pressing my cock against your ass, right there in front of him. And maybe I’ll make you tell him that you belong to me.”

Dean wanted to know that it was possible, that Sam would go there, actually do that for him. “What do you think, Sammy. You willing to show him whose you really are? Tell him?”

Sam’s breath was heaving out of him like he had run a marathon and damnit, but Dean hadn’t even touched him yet, hadn’t done anything but mark him, and remind him that he was wanted, finally wanted by this extraordinary human who was his whole world. “Oh God, Dean. Yes. Yes.”

Dean wasn’t sure he wouldn’t really do it, wouldn’t really force Sam to face that asshole, that presumptuous bastard who thought he could move in on what belonged to Dean. He might just need to see the look on his face when Sam let him know that he realized his mistake and was paying for forgetting who owned him. But he would take all that out and examine it later, later when he watched his baby sleep, peaceful and worn out from the things Dean intended to do to him before then.

“Suck,” Dean reached around and pushed two fingers into Sam’s mouth, Sam opening immediately and taking them in. Dean bit back a groan at the feel of Sam’s hot wet mouth around his digits, unable to keep out the thought of how that beautiful mouth would feel on his cock.

Putting his mouth against Sam’s ear, Dean growled softly, “Work them, baby. Work my fingers with that gorgeous mouth, show me how you want to suck my cock. Do a good job, show me how bad you want it and I might let you taste my dick. Maybe.”

Moaning deep in his throat, Sam did as he was told, sucking Dean’s fingers, showing him how good he could make it if Dean let him suck his dick, let him get on his knees for is big brother and show him how sorry he was, how sure he was that he knew who owned him, mind, body and heart.

Dean was trying to control the thrust of his hips into Sam’s hard ass, afraid he was going to push himself over the edge just from this feeling of Sam sucking his fingers desperately. “Do you think you deserve to suck my dick, Sam? After wanting to fuck that guy? Maybe you don’t want to belong to me anymore.” Dean hated hearing the need in his own voice, and the fear that maybe he was right.

“God, no Dean. No, please. I didn’t even intend to actually see him. I swear.” Sam’s voice was gruff with his anxiety. “Just you…I only want you.“ He was trying to keep the desperate, pleading tone from his voice. Shit, shouldn’t he have limits to how much he could let Dean know the power he held over him? It was frightening, because he knew he would do anything for Dean, let Dean do anything to him, and that couldn’t be good, could it? He couldn’t see any limits even in his own mind.

“Whatever, Sam. You must think I’m really stupid. Shut up.” Despite his hope that the words Sam had said were true, he was afraid to let himself believe almost as much as he was afraid not to.

Putting his fingers back to Sam’s mouth, Dean ground his hips into Sam, pressing him hard to the wall. But when he realized Sam was starting to rub himself against the wall, he backed off. “No,” he ordered, and pulled Sam’s hips back, his fingers digging into denim clad flesh hard enough to leave marks. Reaching around, he unzipped his brothers jeans, shoving them and the boxers underneath down around his thighs. “Don’t fucking move.”

Dean didn’t take his eyes off his brother as he quickly retrieved the bottle of lube from the nightstand, immediately releasing himself from his own jeans and slicking a generous amount around his throbbing length. Pulling Sam’s right hand from the wall, he squirted lube onto his fingers and commanded gruffly, “Work yourself open for me. Let me see how much you want it. Make it quick, and be glad I’m not just taking you dry as punishment.”

“I don’t need it, Dean, I…I want it to hurt. I’m sorry, just…just do it.”

“I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, Sam. Now do what I fucking told you to do. Unless you really don’t want it and just want to stop now.” Dean was no longer touching Sam, wanted to make sure Sam knew it was his choice, despite the orders he was spewing. He never wanted Sam to stay in this relationship, or do anything because he felt any obligation.

Sam whimpered and looked at Dean, hoping to express how much he wanted to be there, to do this, always. What a stupid fucking idea. Making Dean jealous had backfired in an ugly way, and he wanted to make things better. But right now he was so hard it hurt, he needed Dean so badly, he frantically moved to do what Dean had asked, groaning Dean’s name as he pressed two fingers into himself, holding his brother’s gaze as he did so.

Dean’s eyes flicked between what Sam was doing and Sam’s face, gripping the base of his dick when Sam moaned his name. Shit, Sam could push him over the edge so easily. If he knew how much he needed this, needed him…damn, he would be so fucking vulnerable.

“Please, Dean. I want you, need you inside me. It’s not…I’m ready, please.”

Dean stepped up behind Sam and grasped his hips, digging his fingers into the flesh he had already left fingerprint bruises on, drawing another moan from his baby brother’s lips, and slid into him in one long slow thrust. Groaning as he bottomed out into Sam, Dean laid his forehead against the younger man’s back, getting himself under control and letting Sam adjust to the pressure.

But Sam wasn’t letting him go slow, he pushed back against his brother, silently asking for more, and Dean pulled back and slammed in, hard and fast, over and over.

When one of Sam’s hands left the wall to curve around his aching dick, Dean stopped moving, clenching his teeth with the strain, “No, Sam. You come like this. You come just from having me buried deep inside you, fucking your ass. You don’t touch yourself.”

With those words, Dean sped up his thrusts, angling himself and Sam’s hips to brush against Sam’s prostate with every stroke. Sam keened and panted, his head thrown back, tendons taut. Unable to resist that temptation, Dean once again leaned in and drew his teeth along the line of Sam’s long throat before latching on and biting down into the muscle.

“Yesss.” Sam hissed out and his hips jerked frantically several times.

He lost it when Dean breathed into his ear, “That’s right, Sam. Come for me, come. Show me how fucking good it feels to have my dick slamming into your ass. Claiming you. Come.”

And Sam lost it, a half scream half groan that was Dean’s name torn from him. Dean closed his eyes, biting back the moan that welled up at the feel of all this, and of knowing it was Sam, his Sammy that he was buried in. He wanted to make it last, because what if…God forbid, what if this was the last time? But, the clenching tightness of Sam’s release drew Dean’s own within moments, and he bit back a cry, afraid that if he let it out, it would be a plea.

They stood there for long moments, Dean trying to catch his breath, Sam tense and worried despite the incredible orgasm that had just flowed through him.

Finally, stepping back and pulling out of Sam with a hiss, Dean turned and went to the bathroom, wiping himself off and bringing a damp hand towel for Sam. Sam was standing where he had left him, but with his back against the wall, fear and a question in his eyes.

Dean cringed as what had just happened really registered in his befuddled mind. Maybe he had hurt Sam and now he was afraid…of him. Dammit, that was the last thing he wanted. He had been furious, true, and having to push it all down the whole day while it ate at him from the inside out had created a bit of a monster by the time they came through the door. But, he never wanted his brother to be afraid of him.

“Fuck. Sam, I’m sorry. I don’t know...I’m so sorry. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, that you aren’t really as scared of me as you look right now.” Dean brushed his knuckles softly down Sam’s cheek and along his jaw line. “I let my jealousy get out of control and…well, I…just lost it.”

Sam shook his head, “It was my fault, Dean. I wanted to make you jealous, and I know that was stupid. I guess I needed to know if I could or something. I dunno. Now that I say it, it sounds so fucking lame.” He trailed off, but his eyes never left Dean’s tortured green ones. “But you didn’t hurt me. Shit, did you not see what just happened? I came without you even touching me I wanted you so bad. You would never hurt me.”

“Then why do you look scared, Sam? Don’t try and lie, ‘cause I can see the fear in your face.”

Sam stepped closer to Dean, wanting so much to embrace his older brother, but not sure it would be welcome. He had really messed up and there was fear, just not the kind Dean thought. “I am scared…terrified that I just messed up. That I ruined this, this thing. You and me…that you will pull away from me or…”

Dean pressed his body into Sam’s, walking them both to one of the beds, and dropping onto it, pulling Sam down on top of him. “Mmmmm.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “You see how I reacted, Sam. Does it seem like that? Like it made me not want you? It made me crazy, Sammy, to see you giving him those looks. My looks, looking at him the way I only want you looking at me. I thought I was going to come out of my skin when you looked up at him through your fucking hair and flashed those dimples at him. Don’t do that anymore, ok, Sam? I want that, all that, just for me.”

Groaning and releasing his breath in a half laugh, those words so precious he wished he could taste them, Sam nuzzled the side of Dean’s neck, breathing in that beautiful scent of leather and cheap laundry detergent and Dean that made his heart race. “I’m really sorry, Dean. It was just an act, I swear. I was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

Pulling Sam’s hair to lift his face to see into his eyes, Dean growled. “Not good enough. You were flirting Sam, and I didn’t like it. It hurt and made me crazy. No more, ok? Mine, only look at me like that, got it?”

“K, Dean. Only you.” That would be easy, Sam thought. His heart was singing with all this talking Dean was doing, and the words…well the words felt so good he thought he might burst. “Yours.” He wrapped himself around his brother, holding on to everything that mattered.

‘Mine,’ they both thought before falling asleep.

chap 4