Three day’s later, after they’d made sure that there were no more deaths or strange happenings, they left the town behind them. Dean couldn’t have been happier. There hadn’t been a decent bar in town, and the place had been one big bedroom community. This was much better.

Much better.

They’d dropped their stuff off at the motel, and then Sam had decided he needed a shower. Dean thought he’d rest for a few minutes, but he’d been out cold. The next thing he knew, baby brother was shaking his shoulder.

When he cracked his eyes open, the first thing he saw was his brother’s muscular chest. His gaze had lingered a bit long, and then he found himself unable to take his eyes off Sam’s mouth. If he’d stood over him for just one moment... fuck...

But then Sam moved away and pulled a shirt on, and asked if he intended to sleep all day.

Dean sat up, feeling a bit dazed and trying to clamp down on feelings he shouldn’t be having about baby bro. Yeah, he’d had some weird thoughts, but never this strong. And never has his body reacted so strongly... hell, his cock was still pressed uncomfortably hard against his zipper.

“Bar... I need a drink. Now,” he growled, running a hand through his hair, as he got up and tried to keep from staring at Sam’s ass.

After everything had seemed to be fine. The ritual apparently working, Sam and Dean left, headed for a new town, a new hunt.
They were three states over when they stopped at a motel for the night, dumping their stuff off, Sam decided so grab a shower before they went out to eat.
Dean told him to hurry up, as he laid back on his bed, and Sam rolled his eyes, nodding that he would as he entered the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

Sam walked out of the bathroom roughly twenty minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist to find Dean laying on his bed, eyes closed.
He grabbed a clean pair of boxers and his jeans, then walked back into the bathroom to put those on.
Once he had, Sam walked out to find Dean still asleep. He walked over to him, and shook his shoulder slightly. "Dude, wake up."

Sam watched as his brother's eyes slowly opened, and Dean looked at him like he'd never seen him before. Staring first at his chest, then his face.
Sam frowned slightly, wondering why his brother was looking at him like that. He looked down at his own chest for a second, before returning his gaze to his brother, figuring he had imagined it.

Sam pulled away then, turning to grab a tee and pull it over his head. "You gonna sleep all day?" Sam asked him as he straightened his tee and grabbed up his long sleeve shirt, pulling it on.

“Bar... I need a drink. Now,” Dean growled, running a hand through his hair, as he got up, walking across the room.
Sam glanced over his shoulder at his brother, frowned slightly then shook his head and sighed. "Fine. We'll go to a bar." Sam shrugged, "Might find something to hunt that way, hear something."
Sam sat down on the bed then, pulling his socks on, then his boots. Glancing up at his brother as he did. "You ready?"

“I was born ready.” Pulling the door open, Dean strode out. They’d passed a bar on the way, and it was just a few blocks. He got into the car and waited for Sam to lock up the room.

Under his lashes, he watched Sam get in the car and arrange his long limbs. Just the thought of what was under those clothes made his skin tighten. He needed to get Sam good and drunk tonight... he really did. Grinning, he rolled down his window, rested his elbow on the frame and cranked up the music, before hitting the road.

Every once in a while, his gaze would stray to Sam’s thighs. He was sprawled back, with his thighs wide open, and his jeans worn in all the right place. The way it drew your gaze to slight outline of Sam’s cock... it was like one giant nonstop tease.

By the time he parked, he was fighting images of himself pushing Sammy back and fucking mauling him right there, and a part of him knew it was a bad idea. Not yet... in a couple of hours, but not yet. If baby brother were close to passing out, he’d be a lot more cooperative.

An hour later, they’d both had a lot of beers. “C’mon Sam, how about shots?” Seeing a ‘no’ in his future, Dean pointed at him. “Don’t you say no Sammy, not unless you admit that candy ass college boys can’t drink like men.”

As usual Dean had a smart reply to Sam's question. Sam shook his head and pulled to his feet, following behind his brother as they left the room.
Sam turned to lock the door after they exited, then walked to the car and got in, sitting back in the seat, slouching down a bit, his head leaning back on the head rest.

Dean had already gotten into the car as he was locking up, and now the car was started and pulling out of the motel.
It wasn't long before Dean was pulling the Impala into the parking lot of some bar he'd apparently liked the look of on the way into town.
Sam sighed softly, but remained silent on the matter as Dean parked the car.

Getting out, they headed into the bar, walking side by side, like the double-mint twins, arms swinging and steps in unison.
Grabbing seats at the bar, Dean got them each a bottle, encouraging Sam not to nurse the hell out of it, but to actually drink it.
After that beer, there was another and another and another and another and.... well, pretty soon Sam lost count of just how many "another's" there were.
He was about three sheets to the wind and weaving, even as he sat on the stool, laughing at something stupid his brother had just said.

“C’mon Sam, how about shots?”
Sam frowned slightly and shook his head. Sure, he was drunk, he was willing to admit that, but he wasn't so drunk he couldn't think straight, and he knew if he started doing shots, that that was exactly where he'd be. Dean pointed at him. “Don’t you say no Sammy, not unless you admit that candy ass college boys can’t drink like men.”
Sam glared slightly at him, or at least he thought he was glaring... maybe it came out as more of a 'I just sucked on a lemon' face?
"Dude, I need shots about as much as I need...." Sam blinked and shrugged, "I dunno." he snickered drunkenly, then shook his head, face growing serious, "No, shots. I can't."

Seeing that sloppy smile of Sam’s, Dean couldn’t take his eyes off his mouth. His chest constricted as thoughts of trapping him up against the bar, forcing him to arch back over it and taking what he needed tortured him. An unholy light lit his eyes. He moved suddenly, as if to lean past Sam. Instead, his mouth collided with Sam’s... hard. Hard enough to draw blood, but he wasn’t sure whose it was at the moment. All he knew was that the urge to force his tongue inside Sam’s mouth was so strong, if he didn’t pull away now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

Pushing against the bar, he allowed some space between them. “Heh... Sammy, you’re in the fucking way.” Leaning further across him, as if it had been his original intent, he shouted at the bar tender. “Two tequila shots... make it fast.” His voice was rough with need, and he was wondering how the fuck he’d hold it together for a while longer.

Sam's eyes widened as Dean moved suddenly, as if to lean past Sam, but instead his brother's mouth collided with his... hard. What the hell!?

The kiss, hard enough that Sam tasted blood suddenly. Dean pushed against the bar, until there was some space between them.
“Heh... Sammy, you’re in the fucking way.” Sam blinked at him, his drunken brain scrambling to catch up to what had just happened.
"Uh, sorry, man." Sam mumbled out, unsure what else to say or do right then. Dean leaned further across him then as he shouted at the bar tender.“Two tequila shots... make it fast.”

Sam frowned at Dean, shook his head, but then looked down. It wasn't worth the wasted effort to argue with Dean once he made up his mind about something.
The bartender brought over the shots and set them down on the bar before them both. Sam looked up at the drink, then at Dean and sighed, knowing his brother would expect him to drink it no matter what he wanted.
Reaching for the shot, Sam downed it in one gulp. There, he'd done it. Now Dean could leave him alone to sit in his drunken stupor alone.
Sam stood and almost staggered back into the bar as he did. "I'll be right back." he muttered to Dean, before heading toward the bathroom, his path not very straight as he walked, staggering to and fro.

Okay, maybe he was a lot more drunk than he'd thought he was.

Dean licked his lips as he watched Sam fail at trying to walk straight. He shook his head and gave the bartender a exaggerated resigned look, as he got up and headed after his brother. For months, he’d been so filled with guilt about his dad that he hadn’t been able to enjoy anything. Sure he’d put up a front, but something was missing. Now... now that he decided he had enough of guilt, enough of restraint, enough of the word ‘no,’ he was filled with a new hard edged sense of excitement. Things were gonna change, and for the better.

He stopped outside the bathroom door and took a deep breath, trying to control his body’s needs... at least until he took Sammy back to their motel room. But once he stepped inside, all his semi good intentions scattered. Sam had gone into a stall, but hadn’t closed the door all the way. He could see a sliver of his body, where the door didn’t quite close... could see his elbow and his struggles to get his pants undone.

Just like that, all of the blood in Dean’s body went straight to his cock. His hand wandered down over the bulge between his legs as he kept watching, kept telling himself he couldn’t go in there. But God damn it... Sammy wasn’t getting anywhere... and all those movement, and the sighs of frustration... they just got Dean worked up. When his breath started to hitch, Dean had enough.

In two steps, he was pushing inside the small stall right behind his brother, and using his ass to close the door. He slid the lock shut and held Sam’s hip, to prevent him from turning. “Don’t worry, I gotcha. I’ll help you Sammy,” he said, pulling Sam up so hard against his frame, every part of their bodies was connected. His cock hardened, and he couldn’t help grinding it against Sam’s ass as he started to undo his brother’s belt buckle and whispered against his ear. “I’ve got it Sam... just go with it.”

Sam stumbled into the bathroom and went into one of the stalls, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't just fall over backward standing without a wall to support him.
As he stood there before the toilet, he found that his fingers weren't quiet able to do what his brain was telling them to. Or was it that his brain wasn't telling them to do what they should be doing quite right? At any rate, his jeans were just not coming unfastened. He sighed a few times in frustration as he tried to blink away the drunken stupor he found himself in. Okay, this just sucked out loud.
Sam took in a deep breath, though it hitched as he did in his drunkenness.

Before Sam knew what was happening, someone was behind him. Sam tensed, until he realized it was Dean's hand on his hip. And thank God for that seeings as he didn't think he had the sobriety needed to kick someones ass.
“Don’t worry, I gotcha. I’ll help you Sammy,” Dean told him and Sam nodded slightly. Yeah, Dean could get it. Dean would take care of him. Just like always.

Sam felt Dean pull him up so hard against his frame that every part of their bodies seemed to be connected. Sam frowned slightly, at the feeling, wondering what Dean was doing. When Sam felt his brother's erection press against him, then grind against his ass as Dean started to undo his belt buckle, Sam started to squirm slightly. He heard Dean whisper in his ear then, “I’ve got it Sam... just go with it.”
Sam's clouded brain just wanted to have Dean take care of him, just wanted to go back to the room and lay down.
He nodded to Dean then, before leaning his head back on Dean's shoulder, letting Dean what he wanted.

“That’s it... that’s it...” Dean could hardly believe Sam wasn’t fighting him. His hands practically shook as he finished undoing the buckle, and then popped the button open. Wrapping his arm around Sam’s waist to hold the material of his jeans with one hand, and tug the zipper with the other, Dean kept rubbing his cock against Sam’s ass. His breath was growing labored, his movements a bit jerky. Fuck...

He pushed his brother’s jeans down, and wrapped his palm around his shaft. Holy fuck... he was touching him, touching Sam... and it felt as good as he’d imagined. No ... better. “Sa... Sam,” he breathed into Sam’s ear. “Do you like to fuck or get fucked?” He knew Sam had to be confused, and even he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to hear... other than maybe the word fuck coming out of those lips. “You know, girl on top, under... how do you fuck?”

“That’s it... that’s it...” Dean encouraged him, not that Sam understood why he was encouraging him like that. He was just letting Dean take care of him.
He was apparently too intoxicated to take care of himself. He didn't understand why in the world Dean was rubbing himself against him like he was, but he found it easy to ignore in his drunken state, his eyes starting to droop closed.. that is until Dean pushed his jeans down and grabbed hold of his cock.
Sam's eyes flew open then. What was he doing? He could hold his own dick to take a piss. He might be so drunk he couldn't unfasten his pants, but he could....

Sam started to lift his head from Dean's shoulder and the room spun. Yeah, okay, maybe he couldn't do it himself. Leave it to Dean to know what he needed even before he did. Sam smiled a sloppy, goofy smile at the ceiling.
“Sa... Sam,” Sam heard Dean breath into his ear. “Do you like to fuck or get fucked?” Dean asked him.
Sam frowned then. Huh? What kind of question was that? Sam licked his lips, trying to understand why Dean was asking him that.
“You know, girl on top, under... how do you fuck?” Dean clarified then, as if knowing again what Sam needed.
Sam smiled drunkenly and shrugged slightly, "Depends." he slurred the word.
"Sometimes she's on top, sometimes I am, sometimes were on our side..." Sam frowned again thinking this was still the weirdest conversation they had ever had, at least in a bathroom... "Eye?" Sam asked, trying to say, 'why' but it coming out all wrong. Sam licked his lips, tried to focus on making his words sound clearer, "Why do you wan a know ow I fuck, Dean?" Sam asked him slowly.

By then, Dean wasn’t helping him take a piss at all. He was stroking his shaft, up and down to the rhythm of his own movements against Sam. Then Sam was talking almost dirty to him, and it made Dean’s gut clench with need. He started to fuck against his brother a little hard, trying to ease the ache between his legs.

“Why?” he repeated his brother’s question, while running his palm possessively over his brother’s abs and chest. “Because Sam... you listening?” Leaning forward, he made sure he had his brother’s attention. “Because I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad, it hurts. I want to fuck you so bad, I’d give six months of my life for it.”

Sam felt Dean begin to stroke his cock and Sam bit his lip, had to stifle the moan that wanted to come out as he suddenly realized what was happening, or thought he did.
Sam frowned, as he tried to think about it, about the fact that Dean shouldn't be doing that, but it was like a distant fact his drunken mind couldn't quite grasp.
As Dean moved against him, Sam started to squirm again slightly.

“Why?” Dean repeated his question, and Sam nodded, feeling Dean's hand running his over his abs and chest. “Because Sam... you listening?”
Sam moaned a little and nodded. Yeah, sure he was listening. What was he suppose to be listening for?

Leaning forward, Dean spoke again, “Because I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad, it hurts. I want to fuck you so bad, I’d give six months of my life for it.”

Sam frowned for a few moments going completely still. He... Dean said.... Sam suddenly burst out laughing as he turned his head on his brother's shoulder trying to look at his face. "I - I thought you said you," Sam moved a hand backward, a single digit poking Dean in the side to show Sam meant him, "wanted to fuck, me!" Sam moved that same up to his own chest, the same digit, poking himself in the chest.
Sam laughed again, feet shuffling on the floor as he tried to turn around to face Dean.

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Those were the words that washed over Dean, sending his temperature through the freakin’ roof. Keeping an iron grip on his squirming Sammy, Dean prevented him from turning. “Oh God Sam, he groaned... love it when you talk dirty like that.”

There was more squirming, and it made Dean wish Sam was naked under him, or against the wall, or fucking bent over a table. The laughter from Sam didn’t seem to stop, and it fucking pissed Dean off. Still stroking his cock, Dean moved his free hand up to cup Sam’s face and force him to turn toward him.

“I’m not lying. I’m not joking. I want to fuck you,” he said, swooping in and covering Sam’s mouth with his. This time, he was on fire and intent on getting what he needed. He pushed his tongue past Sam’s lips and started to probe every corner of his moist, hot mouth. He tasted like liquor and innocence, he tasted just like he knew Sam would. Dean deepened the kiss, then pulled back, staring into his brother’s hazels. “You ever been fucked, college boy? Huh... experimented? Or did you save yourself just for me?”

Sam didn't catch Dean's groan, didn't hear the words that accompanied it, could only think how stupidly shit faced he must be to think his brother, the woman seducing man-whore, would have ever said something like that to a guy, much less his own brother. It was down right hysterical.
He didn't even pay any attention to Dean's hand still stroking his cock, though his cock was apparently paying attention as he was now getting harder by the second.

When Dean's hand came up to cup his face, turn his head toward him, Sam's laughter died off as he looked at his brother.
“I’m not lying. I’m not joking. I want to fuck you,” Dean said, before moving to cover Sam's lips with his own.
Sam's eyes widened slightly as Dean's words sank through the alcohol induced cloud surrounding his brain. What? He wanted...what?
Dean pushed his tongue past Sam’s lips and started to probe every corner of his mouth. Sam squeezed his eyes closed and tried to pull his head away.
Holy fuck! His brother was kissing him! His brother was kissing him! His brother was kissing him!

Dean deepened the kiss, and Sam cried out against his lips, the sound swallowed up by his brother's mouth on his. Dean pulled back then, staring into his brother’s hazel eyes. “You ever been fucked, college boy? Huh... experimented? Or did you save yourself just for me?”

Sam stared at Dean, eyes wide, lips parted in shock at what he'd just done. What he was hearing was just as bad... maybe worse.
Sam shook his head slightly, "No, Dean, no. I've never...I don't..." Sam licked his lips, tasting his brother there. Panic flowed through him then and Sam started to squirm more, trying to wiggle out of Dean's hold. "Lemme go, Dean."

Dean’s gaze was glued on his brother’s tongue, darting out and inside his mouth. It made him want to suck it right out of his mouth, and into his own. Then he heard Sam ask him to let go, and every cell in his body protested against the notion. “No can do, Sam. Just can’t.”

His brother might be larger, but Dean was hella strong, and he put his strength to use, turning Sam around and shoving his back up against the door of the stall. Both hands on his chest, he pressed him back as he leisurely took in the sight of his swollen mouth, his disheveled hair, his clothes ... and his open jeans with his cock hanging out. “You can’t go around looking like that and expect me to stop. You just fucking can’t.”

Lunging in, Dean used his entire body to trap Sam as he kissed the living daylights out of him. He forced his leg between Sam’s, used it to control his movements and to let him know who was in control. He was determined to draw a response, and he wasn’t gonna give up, not a chance.

When Dean told Sam he couldn't let him go, Sam struggled harder against him, but only managing to wiggle in ways Sam wasn't wanting to be wiggling against Dean.
Dean suddenly moved, turning Sam around and slamming him back against the locked door, hands on his chest, holding him there.
“You can’t go around looking like that and expect me to stop. You just fucking can’t.” Dean told him and Sam frowned, looking down at himself.
He moved his hands to his pants and began to try to fasten them. Go around looking like that. I didn't 'go around' looking like anything.

Dean suddenly lunged in, pinning him with his entire body, his lips crushed to Sam's kissing him hard and deep.
Dean forced his leg between Sam’s, even as Sam struggled against him, Dean used it to control Sam's movements and to let him know who was in control.
Sam raised his hands to Dean's arms, trying to push him back. Stop it, Dean! Please!

Dean continued moving against him and Sam's struggles began dying away, as his body responded despite himself. He found himself moving back against Dean, a soft moan escaping his lips.

Hearing Sam’s groan, and feeling his response, a sense of triumph rolled through Dean. He started to do up Sam’s jeans, never breaking the kiss in the process. He needed to keep his brother dazed and confused... just needed to.

When he stepped back, he thought Sam looked as shaken as he felt. “Alright Sam, going home now, okay. Come on,” he spoke authoritatively, and didn’t look back... not wanting to let Sam even think he could argue or discuss this. They were done here, and they had business at the motel.

Back inside the bar, Dean went and bought a bottle of tequila and got some lemons from the bartender. Sure he had to pay extra because “this was no liquor store’ as the bartender put it. But Dean was on fire... he couldn’t make any more stops... he couldn’t waste anymore time.

Finding Sam, he started to nudge him toward the door. When he didn’t move fast enough, he put his arm around his back and started to drag him out, rolling his eyes as others laughed at the state of is drunken brother.

Ten minutes later, the impala screeched to a halt in front of the motel. Dean got out and opened Sam’s door, then gripping his brother’s shirt, pulled him out. “Gonna party so hard now, Sam.” He lifted the bottle he had in one hand, and the lemons in the other, as he started to walk toward Sam, using his body to push and guide Sam toward their room.

Sam was actually beginning to enjoy the sensations his brother was creating in him when suddenly Dean stepped back from him.
Sam stumbled forward a bit, his eyes wide, glued on Dean. What the hell had just happened? What was he thinking? This was wrong!...So wrong....
“Alright Sam, going home now, okay. Come on,” Dean told him, his tone the same he used on a hunt that said there was no arguing.
Sam fell into line, following after Dean as he was told to, though somewhere in the back of his dazed and confused mind, a small part of himself was screaming at him, but he could quite make out why.
Sam walked out of the bathroom and staggered toward the bar after Dean. His steps were slow as he tried not to look as out of it as he felt.
Dean was suddenly there, nudging him toward the door. When Sam apparently wasn't walking fast enough, Dean put his arm around his back and started to drag him out. Sam heard the laughter, but wasn't quite 'with it' enough to care.

Ten minutes later, the impala screeched to a halt in front of the motel. Sam watched through glazed eyes as Dean got out, went around the car and opened Sam’s door, then gripping his brother’s shirt, pulled him out. Sam's eyes widened slightly at his brother hauling him out of the car like that. What the hell had he done?

“Gonna party so hard now, Sam.” Dean said to him as he lifted the bottle he had in one hand, and the lemons in the other. Sam frowned slightly, but never got the chance to say anything as Dean started to walk toward him, using his body to push and guide Sam toward their room.
"Hey!" Sam said as he walked, "I got it! I can walk to the room, Dean." Sam told him, trying to swat Dean away, and missing horribly bad.
The door opened, but Sam wasn't even sure exactly how it had happened, he knew he hadn't done it.
Sam stumbled into the room and started to walk toward his bed and collapse. Yeah, bed. That sounded good. Yeah, it would be good.

Dean kicked the door shut behind him and started to advance toward the bed. His gaze tracked Sam’s every movement, and he followed him onto the bed, straddling his legs and walking on his knees until his center hovered over Sam’s hips. “Look good enough to lick,” he said, meaning every word.

Dropping the items in his hands, he grabbed the hem of Sam’s shirt and started to tug it up. “Come on Sam, let’s get this off... so I can,” he added gruffly as he lowered himself slightly and brushed his jeans clad cock over Sam’s. With a little cooperation, he had Sam half naked, just like he needed.

Putting his palm on his chest, he pushed Sam down. “Damn, baby brother, you’re so fucking hot.” Just looking at his muscular chest, just feeling the warmth emanate from him was driving Dean insane. “Good enough to lick.”

Pulling a knife from his boot, he leaned down and picked up one of the lemons and sliced it. Then he squeezed the lemon juice over Sam’s chest, in a line all the way down to his navel. His gaze briefly met Sams as he sprinkled some salt over the line. “You know what I’m doing. You gotta have had body slammers at college...”

Sam closed his eyes as soon as his back hit the mattress, opening only when he felt his brother kneeling over him.
“Look good enough to lick,” Dean told him, but Sam only sighed and closed his eyes again.
Dean needed to knock it off. It wasn't funny anymore and if it wasn't suppose to be a joke, then Sam didn't get it, not one little bit. What the hell else was he doing?

Dean grabbed the hem of Sam’s shirt and started to tug it up. “Come on Sam, let’s get this off... so I can,”
Sam looked at his brother through lowered lashes. What? Huh? Oh, yeah, clothes. Bed. Yeah, okay.

When Dean lowered himself slightly, rubbing his denim clad cock against Sam's, Sam gasped softly, his eyes flying open.
Dean seemed intent on getting his shirt off of him, and Sam was just tired. If taking off his shirt would make Dean happy, get him to leave Sam alone, then fine. He'd do it. Sam sloppily helped Dean get his shirts off, then relaxed back again, only to watch as Dean drew a knife out of his boot, Sam's breath hitching softly as he watched his brother, cut into one of the lemons.
Dean then began to squeeze the lemon juice over Sam’s chest, in a line all the way down to his navel. Sam seemed mesmerized by the site of what his brother was doing, unable to take his eyes off the lemon, Dean's hand, the juice trailing down his chest and stomach.

Sam looked up at Dean then, saw his brother look up at him briefly as he sprinkled some salt over the line. “You know what I’m doing. You gotta have had body slammers at college...”

Sam frowned slightly, shook his head, "Went to college to study." he told Dean, then licked his lips, "Why I got a free ride to Stanford." he told him, as his eyes slipped closed, head rolling to the side slightly.

“Then you know all about rides.” Dean dipped a lemon juice covered finger into Sam’s perfect mouth, cause he couldn’t help himself. He slowly finger fucked Sam’s mouth with his index, then middle, then ring finger, pulling each out in turn, and grinding is hips against Sam’s with each dip. Felt so fucking good, looked so fucking hot, he thought if he kept going... he’d blow, just like that.

Sam’s belt was still unbuckled from the bar. Dean gripped his jeans and pulling in two directions, popped the button open and unzipped in one go. Raising up, he opened his own fly, but made no move to free either himself or his brother from their briefs.

“Oh God Sammy... gonna be good. This is gonna be so good,” he breathed, crawling back slightly and dragging the flat of his tongue over the ridge visible through Sam’s brief. His brother’s shudder made him go so fucking hard he was tempted to skip the games. But no, Sam deserved games... he did.

Crawling back again, this time he dragged his tongue up the trail of salt, licking, scraping his teeth along Sam’s sensitive skin, kissing and sucking as he made his way up. He sometimes stopped to take a swig of the tequila, and let Sam watch him squeeze lemon juice in his mouth, but he went right back down to taste Sam, again, and again... needing, wanting, exerting more control over himself than he thought he had.

Know all about rides?[i] Sam frowned at his brother, [i]Huh? What was that suppose to mean?
When Dean's lemon juice coated finger was suddenly in his mouth, Sam knew he needed to stop this. Some part of himself, a part that was still not quite drunk screamed at him how wrong this was, but he couldn't seem to get his body to move to listen to it and before he knew what was happening, Dean had worked first his index finger, then middle, then ring fingers into his mouth, moving them in and out as Dean's hips ground against his, before he finally drew his fingers away.
Oh God, why did it feel good for Dean to grind his hips against him? This was wrong, so damn wrong.

When Dean's hands went to his jeans, popping the button and pulling the zipper in one easy movement, Sam gasped softly, alcohol glazed eyes staring wide at his brother.
No, this wasn't happening. It was a dream. Some drunken dream. He had went into the bathroom and fallen asleep and still had yet to wake up. Yeah, that was what this was. When he woke, he'd still be in that bathroom at the bar somewhere. Probably passed out on the floor.

“Oh God Sammy... gonna be good. This is gonna be so good,” Dean breathed, crawling back slightly and dragging the flat of his tongue over the ridge visible through Sam’s brief. Sam gasped, a shudder ripping through him as he bit his lip. He couldn't moan, wouldn't moan. That would be wrong. This might be a dream, a very warped and twisted drunken dream, but if he actually moaned, liked it, enjoyed it...wouldn't that make him a fucking pervert? After all, it was his brother!

Sam swallowed hard as he watched Dean Crawl back up again, this time Dean dragged his tongue up the trail of salt, licking, scraping his teeth along Sam’s sensitive skin, kissing and sucking as he made his way up. Sometimes Dean stopped to take a swig of the tequila, Sam's eyes glued to him as he squeezed lemon juice into his mouth, not sure if he should actually he looking at him at all. But Dean always went right back down to taste Sam, again, and again.
Sam biting his lip so hard to stifle the moans that wanted to escape, he was sure he was going to puncture his lip at any moment.
Please, Dean...
Though at this point, Sam wasn't even sure what he was begging for.
Okay, this dream was totally fucked up. He was so never telling Dean about this one. Never

Looking down at his brother, Dean licked his burning lips Did Sam know how he looked right now? All fucked up, wide-eyed, half trusting and half fighting it... this? Did he know the way he was worrying his lower lip was pushing Dean just a little closer to the edge? Or that the tiny, reluctant movement of his body, the labored breaths and the involuntary shivers gave him away?

“You can let go Sam. You’re not gonna be in trouble for this. I’ll take the blame,” he whispered, thinking of all the times he had when they were kids. This time he actually deserved it, but there would be no trouble, because no one would fucking dare try to get between them.

Lowering his head, he kissed his way up Sam’s throat, then mouthed his adam’s apple, tonguing and sucking it, lingering before he moved to give his strong jaw a bit of attention. By the time he was hovering over Sam’s mouth, Dean’s breaths were ragged with need. “Fuck me Sam,” he thrust harder, grinding his hips down, forcing their cocks to slide together. “I don’t care if you have to imagine I’m someone else, just fuck... I need it so bad, so fucking bad...”

“You can let go Sam. You’re not gonna be in trouble for this. I’ll take the blame,” Dean whispered as Sam stared up at him.
Sam wasn't so sure about that.. but hadn't Dean always known what was right? What was best for him? After all, if it was only a dream, then... what would it hurt to enjoy it a little...?

Sam continued to bit his lip nervously, eyes on Dean, watching every move he made as Dean lowered his head.
Sam's eyes closed then as Dean kissed a path up his neck, mouthed his Adam's apple tonguing and sucking it. Sam held his breath, tried not to moan, not to make a sound. Dean's mouth moved to Sam's jaw then and Sam's head tilted back slightly, his eyes opening, as though he had no control of what his body was doing, was wanting from Dean.
No, this is wrong. Can't do this.

By the time Dean was hovering over Sam’s mouth, Dean’s breaths were ragged, Sam barely breathing at all. “Fuck me Sam,” Dean thrust his hips against Sam harder, grinding his hips down, forcing their cocks to slide together. “I don’t care if you have to imagine I’m someone else, just fuck... I need it so bad, so fucking bad...” Dean told him.

Sam shook his head as he looked up at his brother. No, they couldn't do this. It was wrong.
Sam's hips arched upward slightly against Dean's even as he tried to deny them this, his cock hard, wanting....
Sam looked away from Dean then, head rolling to the side. This was so wrong. He rolled his head again, looked back at Dean, raising a hand to lay his palm flat against Dean's chest. "S'not right." Sam told him, still slurring his words slightly.

Sam's hips arched upward slightly against Dean's even as he tried to deny them this, his cock hard, wanting....
Sam looked away from Dean then, head rolling to the side. This was so wrong. He rolled his head again, looked back at Dean, raising a hand to lay his palm flat against Dean's chest. "S'not right." Sam told him, still slurring his words slightly.


His brother, pushing up against him, just like that was what Dean wanted... needed. He started to lower himself to kiss him, but Sam was pressing him back, giving him bullshit about what was right and wrong. How could he do that? Say no, when the rest of him said ‘hell yes.”

Anger flared in Dean’s eyes. “Don’t you tell me it’s not right Sammy, not when it’s the first time I feel anything since dad... so don’t you go telling me its wrong.”

Lifting up, he dragged Sam’s jeans half way down his thighs, together with his brief. Then he pulled his own jeans down and let Sam see the evidence of his need. He might not understand this... but he’d understand this... Dean lowered back down, and held Sam’s arms above his head and started to slowly fuck him, making sure to drag his cock up Sam’s with every powerful movement of his hips. He was staring into Sam’s eyes now, pleading, silently telling him there was no way he wasn’t gonna see this through.

Anger flared in Dean’s eyes. “Don’t you tell me it’s not right Sammy, not when it’s the first time I feel anything since dad... so don’t you go telling me its wrong.”

Sam was about to argue, he was going to, really he was, but then Dean mentioned their Dad and how numb Dean had been since that had happened and Sam knew it was true. Knew the pain Dean had felt every friggin day since their Dad had traded his life, his soul for Dean's. All the fight seemed to drain out of him then. If Dean needed this to.... to feel again... after all, it was only a dream, right? Then, maybe....

Sam licked his lips, watching as Dean lifted up, reached down, dragging Sam’s jeans half way down his thighs, together with his briefs. Then he pulled his own jeans down and let Sam see the evidence of his need. Sam gasped softly, looking down at his brother, then back at his brother's face. Just a dream, it was just a dream. It wasn't really happening.

Dean lowered back down onto Sam then, as he grabbed for Sam's wrists, holding his arms above his head and started to slowly fuck him, making sure to drag his cock up Sam’s with every powerful movement of his hips. Sam's eyes widened, lips parted as he stared up at his brother.
The look on his brother's face as he stared into Sam's eyes, the pleading, silently telling him there was no way he wasn’t gonna see this through.
Sam swallowed hard, closing his eyes, a low moan escaping him as he did, hips arching against Dean's.
"Dean.." it was the softest moan, hardly audible.

“Right here. That’s it.” Sam was so fucking beautiful when he gave up the fight. Sometimes you lost a battle and you won a war... Dean would have to make him see that. Still clamping his brother’s wrists above his head with one hand, and supporting the weight of his body on his free elbow, Dean bent his head and claimed Sam’s mouth.

He started to tongue fuck him so slowly, it was excruciating. He slowed the movements of his hips too... making Sam raise up higher and higher if he wanted more pressure, keeping him needy but never satisfying. Making him thrash, and pulling away. “What do you want? Tell me what you want Sam,” his hot breaths skimmed over Sam’s cheeks.

When Dean lowered his head and claimed Sam's mouth, Sam couldn't seem to suppress the moan that escaped as his hips continued to move against his brother.
Dean kissed him so slowly, tongue fucking him really, teasing his mouth and his cock with pressure then nothing, pressure then nothing over and over, making Sam have to reach for more, whimper softly as he fought to touch, to feel.
Sam thrashed under Dean, trying to pull away in frustration, his breaths coming heavier, faster in his passion.

“What do you want? Tell me what you want Sam,” Dean told him, his hot breath ghosting over Sam's cheeks as he spoke.
Sam looked up at his brother, stilling. He wanted him to say it? Wanted him to admit it aloud? Sam shook his head. He couldn't do that. Dream or not, if he said it... wouldn't that make him a pervert? Make him wrong?
"Dean...please," Sam groaned, hips arching, "I can't..." he panted out, as he struggled against Dean, trying to touch him more, feel more.

“Why not? Why not Sam?” He pushed his brother’s hair back and kept his palm pressed on his forehead, “Why can’t you tell me you want my tongue in your mouth. That I make your dick so hard it hurts? That you want to touch me, that you want me to let go and just... just fuck you into the mattress?”

Giving him a hard kiss, he sat down on his brother’s hips, locking their cocks together, but refusing to move and using his weight to keep Sam from moving. He slid his hand over the tip of Sam’s cock, moving his thumb over his crown ever so lightly. “It’s gonna be like this all night Sammy... all night if it has to be that way. Even if it kills me,” he said hoarsely, struggling to control his own needs.

“Why not? Why not Sam?” He pushed his brother’s hair back and kept his palm pressed on his forehead as Sam's breath panted out, his hips moving, needing...
“Why can’t you tell me you want my tongue in your mouth. That I make your dick so hard it hurts? That you want to touch me, that you want me to let go and just... just fuck you into the mattress?”
Sam looked up at his brother, eyes widening. Fuck him into the mattress? No, no, no. He couldn't do that, no.
It was one thing to be touching and kissing, but to... Sam tried to shake his head. No, he couldn't do that, dream or not.

Dean gave him a hard, crushing kiss as he sat down on his Sam's hips, locking their cocks together, but refusing to move and using his weight to keep Sam from moving. Sam wanted to scream. If he was going to just sit there, he could move away. Sam could take care of himself. This was going to far to fast anyway.
Then Dean slid his hand over the tip of Sam’s cock, moving his thumb over his crown ever so lightly and Sam gasped, eyes widening, before moaning and trying to arch into the feel of his brother's hand. “It’s gonna be like this all night Sammy... all night if it has to be that way. Even if it kills me,” Dean told him, his voice hoarse.
All night? No, he needed to stop now.

"Dean, just," Sam licked his lips, "Just stop, okay. This isn't real, it's a dream, I'm having some stupid drunken dream, and I'm going to wake up now, and you're going to stop this." Sam told him trying to sound more self-assured than he felt.
He closed his eyes then, willed himself to wake up, only to open his eyes to his brother still sitting there, nothing having changed.
"Dean...please!" Sam begged him, using all his strength to try to arch upward and either knock his brother off him or get some friction, either one didn't really matter to him right now.

Dean only kept him pinned, not moving, not budging. "Dean, please!" Sam nearly yelled, "You're acting po-" Sam's sentence died on his tongue as a thought occurred to him, something that explained everything. Well, it sort of did anyway.
The Alps. They hadn't gotten rid of the Alps! Dean was sleep walking! But...that would mean Dean secretly had these feeling for him really...
Sam closed his eyes and sighed, tried to control the panic rising in him before he opened his eyes again, "How long have you left like this about me, Dean?" Sam asked him softly.

If it was something new, then he'd know it wasn't an Alp, but something else, maybe Dean was just really drunk too, but if it had been there, somewhere, inside him, laying dormant maybe, the Alps would have picked up on that....
Sam tugged at the hold Dean had on his wrists as he waited for Dean to answer him. If it was an Alp, Sam couldn't wake him, couldn't stop him, not without Dean dying. Sam closed his eyes and held his breath hoping Dean would tell him that it was just something he'd came up with tonight. Let it be the alcohol.

Dean only kept him pinned, not moving, not budging. "Dean, please!" Sam nearly yelled, "You're acting po-" Sam's sentence died on his tongue as a thought occurred to him, something that explained everything. Well, it sort of did anyway.

Sam’s sharp tone cut through some of the haze. Dean blinked, trying to put what was happening together in that part of his mind that told him it was time to wake, even as the rest of him insisted Sam give in to him.


The Alps. They hadn't gotten rid of the Alps! Dean was sleep walking! But...that would mean Dean secretly had these feeling for him really... Sam closed his eyes and sighed, tried to control the panic rising in him before he opened his eyes again, "How long have you left like this about me, Dean?" Sam asked him softly. If it was something new, then he'd know it wasn't an Alp, but something else, maybe Dean was just really drunk too, but if it had been there, somewhere, inside him, laying dormant maybe, the Alps would have picked up on that....

Keep Sam dazed and confused, that’s what the plan had been. But Sam was asking questions. Serious ones. Dean recognized the tone... it wasn’t curiosity, it was all... business. His pulse kicked up a notch...

Sam tugged at the hold Dean had on his wrists as he waited for Dean to answer him. If it was an Alp, Sam couldn't wake him, couldn't stop him, not without Dean dying. Sam closed his eyes and held his breath hoping Dean would tell him that it was just something he'd came up with tonight. Let it be the alcohol.

When Sam jerked his hand, Dean’s fingers slipped off his brother. The veil of sleep was starting to be ripped off him. His heart worked hard, knocking against his ribs... leaving in its wake a dull pain. “Sam... what...” Dean put his hand over his heart and started to slump.

When Sam jerked his hand, Dean’s fingers slipped off his and Sam slowly brought his arms down, hazel eyes intent on his brother. Dean was acting weird all of the sudden, well, weirder than he had been. Sam watched as Dean blinked, grimaced slightly, “Sam... what...” Dean put his hand over his heart and started to slump.

Sam's eyes widened in horror. No! No! Not Dean!
He quickly reached up with both hands pulling Dean down to him, "Dean, it's okay, I... I want you to -to fuck me." Sam told him desperate to not have him die and if that meant he had to say these things to Dean, he would.

No. No. No. Lies... it wasn’t real... it wasn’t. Dean struggled to come awake, and the more he did, the harder his heart worked. The harder it thundered in his ears.

His chest rose and fell as his breaths became more shallow. He saw Sam... Sam looked scared. And Sam was naked, under him. What was he doing to Sam?

Their gazes locked, and in an instant, he knew. As the world started to go black, he managed to force one word out. “Sorry.”

Sam's eyes widened at Dean's word, at the look on his face. No, Dean! No!
Sam grabbed him then, pressing his lips to Dean's kissing him hard, tongue darting between his lips.
Please Dean, go back to sleep. I'm sorry. It's okay, I know. It's not your fault.

Sam ran his hand up Dean back slowly as he kissed him, the entire time praying this would work, not sure what else to do.
If Dean totally woke, he knew he'd lose Dean. If he played the part, if he did what Dean wanted before, maybe the dream, sleep, would take over again and Dean would be okay.

Fingers of one hand tangled in the strands of Dean's short hair. It was softer than Sam had thought his brother's hair would be, almost silky to the touch.
His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted... well, quite frankly his brother tasted rather wonderful.

Whoa! What the hell?

He felt a sensation, pulling at him, tugging him. His mouth burned. He felt warm heat slide down his back. He felt a hand stroking his hair, fingers tangling in it. He tasted Sam and opened his eyes.

It wasn’t a dream, it was real. Sam was kissing him, wanting him. “What the fuck Sam?” He pushed him down all the way back on the bed. “You’re supposed to ask me, not tell me. Wrong game.”

Despite his words, he was happy... he liked that Sam was desperate enough to try to change the game and take control. “Fine... we’ll change it up a little, the game.”

Giving a sexy crooked smile, he realigned their bodies and started fucking. Each time his erection slid against Sam’s, each time it pressed into him, he got impossibly harder. “Fuck... You like this? You like this, Sam?” He fucked harder, and dipped his head down, dragging his teeth down Sam’s chest and then licking it to soothe the pain.

“What about this? Hmm?” He kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth, sliding his tongue inside but evading Sam’s. “And this?” This time he slid his hands under Sam, squeezing his ass, and moving his fingers suggestively up and down his crack.

With every question, every new touch, he fucked harder, until he was seeing flashes of white light. “Come with me Sam... come with me.”

Dean's eyes opened suddenly as he pulled his lips away from Sam's. “What the fuck Sam?” Sam felt panic for a moment. Was Dean really awake and he'd just made a total ass of himself? But then, Dean pushed him down all the way back on the bed. “You’re supposed to ask me, not tell me. Wrong game.”
Sam sighed softly and nodded. It was dreaming Dean, not awake Dean. He'd done the right thing after all. Thank God.

“Fine... we’ll change it up a little, the game.” Dean told him and Sam couldn't help but look slightly confused.

Giving a sexy crooked smile, Dean realigned their bodies and started moving against Sam. Each time Dean's erection slid against Sam’s, each time it pressed into him, Sam could feel Dean getting harder, and if Sam didn't think about what they were doing, if he just felt, he began to follow his brother's lead. His cock becoming painfully hard. Sam moaned, arching up against Dean.
“Fuck... You like this? You like this, Sam?” Dean asked him and Sam could only nod in response as his breathing became ragged, panted out through parted lips. Dean fucked harder, and dipped his head down, dragging his teeth down Sam’s chest and then licking it to soothe the pain, causing Sam to moan, arch up into his touch, sucking in breath's through his teeth.

“What about this? Hmm?” Dean kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth, sliding his tongue inside but evading Sam’s. Sam gasped, nodding. "Yes," he panted.
“And this?” Dean asked him as this time he slid his hands under Sam, squeezing his ass, and moving his fingers suggestively up and down his crack.
Sam jumped slightly, eyes widening for a split second, before closing, a moan escaping him before he bit his lip, hips moving under Dean.
"Yeah, Dean, oh god, yeah." Sam whispered softly.

With every question, every new touch, Dean seemed to fuck him harder, driving Sam crazy with lust and need.
“Come with me Sam... come with me.” Dean told him, and Sam did as Dean told him, always.
Neck arched back, Sam's eyes squeezed closed, he came hard, his hot seed spilling out, coating his and his brother's stomach's.
Oh holy fuck!

When his brother whispered his name, Dean was gone... so far gone. The instant he felt Sam coming, his movements became more frantic, and then he was gripping Sam’s shoulders and arching into him, crying his name out in a hoarse voice.

Finding his release, Dean kissed Sam on the mouth. This time it was a lingering kiss, gentle and without the relentless pressing need he’d suffered before. “Oh God Sammy, that’s all I wanted. All I wanted. Best birthday... ever.”

*

Hours later, the cold water of the shower had Dean cursing. What the fuck? He turned the warm water on, finished showering and padded past Sam’s bed, to his own. Towel wrapped around his waist, and he flopped down on the bed and didn’t even bother getting in. In a few seconds, he was fast asleep.

*

The morning light had Dean groaning. “You left the frigging windows open again, didn’t you?” After a few more tries at cracking his eyes open, Dean sat up and ran his hand over his face. “I need coffee,” he swung his feet off the bed and realized for the first time that he hadn’t even gotten in bed.

Looking over at Sam, he had to laugh at the way his brother had the sheets up to his neck. “You stink of sex, something you wanna tell me, Sammich?” Raising an eyebrow, he stretched.

Wrong. It was so wrong. Then why the hell did it have to feel so damn good?
Sam, through his haze felt Dean's movements become more erratic and knew his brother was about to come as well.
That same voice in his head that had been screaming at him through his drunken state continued to scream at him just how fucking wrong this was.
But, he had to do it, didn't he? The second he had started to get the upper hand, had gotten Dean to start to back off, Dean had started to have a friggin' heart attack, gripping his chest, a look of pain on his face.
Oh lord, this was seriously fucked up!

Dean kissed Sam as he came and thought seemed to dissipate in a cloud of smoke. yeah, a cloud of sick incestuous smoke.
This time, Dean's kiss was gentle, lingering, without the relentless pressing. This time the kiss was almost, for lack of a better word, beautiful. Okay, seriously fucked up situation here.

When Dean ended the kiss, Sam couldn't help but feel slightly frustrated, he wanted that back, that moment of tenderness. Sure, call him a girl, but it... helped.
“Oh God Sammy, that’s all I wanted. All I wanted. Best birthday... ever.”
Sam actually flinched at Dean's words. His birthday?! They'd forgotten all about his birthday! Holy crap!
Dean suddenly slumped over onto Sam and seemed to just fall into a deep sleep, leaving Sam to stare down at him in shock.
He felt naked, in more ways than one, violated, and just plain embarrassed as hell. This just wasn't suppose to happen with your brother....ever!

**

Hours later, Dean rose and walked into the bathroom like it was just the normal thing to do, without even a backward glance at Sam.
Sam had not slept the entire time, continuing to stare at his brother with wide shocked eyes.
As soon as Dean was inside the bathroom, Sam grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to cover himself, tucking them around him, so he was covered up to his chin. No way, uh-uh, not happening, no more laying here naked under his brother like it was something they were "suppose" to do.

When Dean finally walked out of the bathroom, Sam watched every move he made, hazel eyes following him, though Dean only went to his bed and flopped down, falling asleep in a matter of moments.
Gee, glad it's so easy for YOU to just go to sleep after...after...THAT.
Sam laid there awake most of the night, after several hours, he fell asleep, not that he wanted to, but he was exhausted, his sleep however was not very restful, not a deep sleep. Every time Dean shifted in his bed, Sam's eyes would fly open wide, staring at him.

**

The morning light had Dean groaning. Sam lay in his own bed, still staring at his brother. “You left the frigging windows open again, didn’t you?” Sam didn't answer, just continued looking at him, hands holding the sheet up to his neck.
After a few moments, Dean sat up and ran his hand over his face. “I need coffee,” he stated as he swung his feet off the bed.
Well, he seemed to be Dean again. Well, awake Dean, that is.

Sam watched as he looked over at him and immediately Sam tensed, but then Dean laughed. “You stink of sex, something you wanna tell me, Sammich?” Dean asked him, raising an eyebrow as he stretched.

Sam sighed softly, looking away from his brother, slowly he shook his head. "No. I don't wanna talk about it." Sam told him softly.
It wasn't like he could very well tell Dean, 'Yeah, I smell like sex cause you and I kinda went at it last night. Your idea. Oh, don't worry, you were possessed. Yeah...NOT happening.

Dean stared at him. “That good, huh?” Trying to think how the hell Sam could have sneaked out or brought someone back to the motel without him noticing, Dean rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “Last thing I remember is you were getting all dolled up taking a shower and I just closed my eyes…” Had he really slept from early evening? Then his gaze went to the bottle of tequila and on the ground next to Sam’s bed, and the lemons. “That explains it.”

It didn’t really, because he was pretty sure he could hold his liquor better than Sam, and Sam had been in good enough shape to ‘get some’ while he’d been in a dead sleep. But he wasn’t gonna think about it. “Important thing is…” he walked over to his brother and ruffled his hair. “You got laid. You might just grow up to be a boy some day.”

Sam watched Dean as he just stared at him for a second, “That good, huh?”

Sam could only blink at him, rendered speechless by those words. That good? Yeah, if you call practically being raped by your possessed brother good, then yeah it was great. Sam huffed softly.

“Last thing I remember is you were getting all dolled up taking a shower and I just closed my eyes…” Sam's eyes followed Dean's gaze as it went to the bottle of tequila and on the ground next to Sam’s bed, and the lemons. “That explains it.”

Sam frowned slightly at the tequila and lemons, It does?

“Important thing is…” Sam's gaze shot to Dean as he pulled from the bed and walked over to him. Sam couldn't help it when he shrunk away slightly before Dean ruffled his hair. “You got laid. You might just grow up to be a boy some day.”

Sam stared up at his brother in open mouthed shock. He did not just say...
"I think I need to get a shower." Sam mumbled as he pulled the sheet loose from the bed, wrapping himself up in it before rising and walking toward the bathroom, grabbing his duffel as he went.

Dean raised a brow at Sam’s dramatic exit, including wrapping himself in an entire sheet. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen Sam naked, which he assumed was the reason for all that extra covering up. Unless he had marks or… something. “Hey Sam,” he walked to the bathroom door and tapped his palm on it. “If you have any questions or need to talk about it, I’m here for you, man.”

Yeah, what did college boy know about girls. Getting him to talk about it was always hard… always had been. Having done his duty and offered his vast experience and knowledge, Dean quickly got dressed. “Meet you at the cafeteria, need coffee,” he muttered loud enough for Sam to hear before the shower went on. Even if he hadn’t heard, Sam would know what he’d be after first thing in the morning.

A half hour and two coffees later, Dean tiredly stared at the menu. Damn… Sam was taking a long time, and he was thinking of going ahead and ordering for himself.

Sam walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him... just in case.
He dropped his duffel on the floor with a sigh and leaned his hands against the counter, arms locked as he stared at his reflection.
He narrowed his eyes at his reflection, leaning closer, his eyes on his neck. "Aw, hell." he mumbled quietly at the "burn" marks on his skin from Dean's stubble.
Sam sighed and hung his head for a moment before pulling away from the sink and going to the shower.

“Hey Sam, if you have any questions or need to talk about it, I’m here for you, man.” he heard Dean say through the door.
Sam froze, staring at the door for a moment, before shaking his head and reaching into the shower to turn on the water.
Questions? Hell yeah, he had a lot of them, not that Dean could answer any of them though. No, he needed to do more research, find out how to get rid of this Alp thing once and for all.... and figure out how they were going to co-exist after all this.

**

After Sam finished getting cleaned up, he dressed in his normal clothes, with one minor exception. Instead of leaving the first few buttons open at the top of his long sleeve shit seeings he had his tee under it, he buttoned the shirt all the way to his neck, made sure to button the sleeves, and tucked the shirt in cinching his belt tight at his hips. Walking out of the bathroom he found the room empty, though he knew where Dean would have gone. Coffee, and lots of it.
Sam put his socks and boots on and grabbed his jacket, slipping it on, then fastening it up to his neck as well. There. That was better. No since in giving those little Alps a reason to strike again. Sam shuddered at the thought.

**

Walking into the cafeteria, Sam spotted Dean at a table and walked over, taking a seat in the chair farthest from Dean, hands in his lap, head bowed.
"So, um, I'm here." Sam mumbled softly, still not looking up, unable to look Dean in the eye.

“Bout damned time, I’m starved.” Dean pushed the menu toward Sam and looked at him. “Dude, is there an arctic wind alert and no one bothered to tell me?” Here he was in short sleeves and his brother was covered from head to foot, and zippered up. “Taking the nerd thing a little too seriously, aren’t you?”

Laughing at his own joke, he wasn’t surprised Sam didn’t join in. But he was surprised at the lack of at the very least, a glare. He studied him for a while, and leaned closer. “What’s going on Sammy? You sick?” Reaching out, he tried to touch Sam’s forehead.

Sam ignored Dean's comments about Arctic winds and his taking the nerd thing a bit far. It didn't deserve a response, nor was he going to get one.
In fact, Sam didn't care what he thought about the way he looked right now, the worse Dean thought he looked the better as far as he was concerned.

When Dean asked him if he was sick, Sam only shook his head slightly, still not looking up, still not speaking.
Dean reached out to touch Sam's forehead and Sam about jumped out of his chair like Dean was going to bite him... then again, that might not have been very far from the truth of it last night.

"Don't." Sam told him, his voice still quiet, eyes down cast once more, "I just don't feel like being touched, I'm okay." Sam told him softly, swallowing hard as he pretended to look at the menu, though he wasn't hungry in the least.

The way Sam jumped startled Dean, but it was what he said that really got his attention. “Don’t feel like being touched? Sam, what the fuck does that mean?” The silence stretched between them. “Sam?”

The longer he didn’t get an answer, the more agitated Dean got. His imagination was supplying answers that ranged from funny, like ha… couldn’t get it up in bed, to horrific… like he’d fallen down on the job last night and Sam had a run in with something without him.

His features hardened as the possibilities flew through his mind. When the waitress approached, he waved her off, then leaned in toward Sam. “Am I gonna have to drag it out of you? Did something happen to you when I passed out?” He was gonna ram that bottle of tequila up the ass of whoever he bought it from, if he could fucking remember who that was cause if something happened to Sam, and he’d slept through it… it can’t have been just tequila in the bottle.

When Dean asked what his not wanting to be touched meant, Sam didn't answer, how could he?
It wasn't like he could very well say, 'You know, I don't want you rutting on me and us coming again.' Yeah, not happening.

Sam?
Sam glanced toward him then, but only shrugged slightly, before quickly looking away.
He couldn't sit here and have this conversation with Dean, he really couldn't.

When Dean leaned closer to him, Sam instinctively leaned away from him, eyes widening slightly as he looked at his brother.
His brother! The same guy who had.... just last night had been... and then.....

“Am I gonna have to drag it out of you? Did something happen to you when I passed out?”
Sam swallowed hard, shook his head, eyes still impossibly wide.
"No, nothing happened. We just went to bed." together!
Sam tore his gaze from Dean, looking down as he slowly sat back as he had been as Dean leaned away once more.

The stuttering, the looking away, the attempts to evade… Dean had it. Tossing enough money on the table to cover the coffee, Dean suddenly stood up and grabbed Sam by the arm, hauling him up ff the chair. The way Sam pulled away from him, the expression on his face had him even more spooked and pissed off then before. “Outside.”

When Sam didn’t move fast enough, he put both hands on his brother and started to shove him toward the door. “Now.”

Following close behind, there was a determined glint in Dean’s eyes. He just barely kept it together until they were in the middle of the parking lot, and then he started to bellow. “Just what the hell is going on Sam? And don’t give me none of your double talk, because I’m not falling for it, alright. You’re acting like a … skittish colt or something… so something happened, and I can’t fucking fix it unless you tell me what it is.”

He was in Sam’s space, in his face, and he wasn’t leaving. “If something happened to you while I was …” he pressed his lips together and looked away for a second, then locked gazes with Sam again. “Just tell me.”

When Dean stood suddenly, Sam jumped, flinching away from his brother.
Dean grabbed his arm then and Sam's eyes widened, and he looked up at his brother with something akin to fear in his eyes, as he fought to free himself from Dean's hold.
Just leave me alone!!!

"Outside."

Sam sighed and turned slowly, keeping an eye on Dean as he did, Dean was there, following close behind him and Sam started to panic again.
Maybe Dean had fallen asleep at the table, maybe he was going to.... to....
"Now." Dean shoved him and Sam had the fleeting thought to run, then huffed at himself. Run from his own brother.

Sam hurried out of the cafeteria, and to the middle of the parking lot, was hoping to get even further away, when Dean got in his face.
“Just what the hell is going on Sam? And don’t give me none of your double talk, because I’m not falling for it, alright. You’re acting like a … skittish colt or something… so something happened, and I can’t fucking fix it unless you tell me what it is.”
Fix it? Dean you can't 'fix' this.

“If something happened to you while I was …” Dean pressed his lips together and looked away for a second, then locked gazes with Sam again. “Just tell me.”

Sam looked down at the ground and nodded, swallowed hard, "Yeah, something happened." he told his brother, before looking back up at him, but said nothing else.
Dean grabbed him then by the jacket and Sam's heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. Dean tried to unzip the jacket, like he was going to undress him right there in the fucking parking lot. No, please, Dean, not again... Oh fuck!

Sam knocked Dean's hands away, backing away from him, eyes wide with fear. "Don't touch me!" Sam yelled at him, then looked away, pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, licked his lips before looking back at his brother, "Just don't touch me....please."

It would have turned into one of their knock down, drag out fights, if Dean hadn’t heard the sheer panic that edged Sam’s voice. If he hadn’t pulled the jacket enough to see some red marks on his brother’s throat. And again, those words… don’t touch me.

He stared for a long minute as pieces fell into place. And then he was walking away, one hand on his forehead. “Sonovabitch. Sonovafucking bitch!” he turned. “Someone hurt you. Someone fucking touched you?” His hands were now balled at his sides, as he tried to control himself. Tried not to yell, not break something.

His heart was pounding in his chest in response to the adrenalin coursing through his system. He’d failed. Again. First he’d let Sam die, now this. Hot tears gathered in his eyes. He started to reach for Sam, to give him a hug, but dropped his arms before he made contact. “Sammy, do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked, his voice husky with emotion. “Can I see. Please Sam, I won’t touch you… just need to know you’re ok… how you are… please.”

Sam stood there, watching Dean, ready to bolt, ready to... oh who was he kidding? To save his brother's life he'd let him do it again and the thought sickened him.
Maybe he was fucked up? There had to be another way. There had to be.
He watched Dean turn and walk away, heard him swearing, then turn back around, coming back toward him and Sam took a step back.

"Someone hurt you. Someone fucking touched you?"

Sam looked down, licked his lips, didn't know how to answer that. Dean hadn't really hurt him per say, touched him, yeah.
When Sam looked back up at his brother he saw the tears in his eyes and his heart broke, he had to fix this. Had to let Dean know he was okay.
Dean didn't need to be worrying about him, he just needed to figure out how to get rid of this Alp once and for all.
When Dean reached for him, Sam pulled back a little. He didn't mean to, it just sort of happened.
He watched Dean's hand fall, "Sammy, do you need to go to the hospital?" Dean asked, his voice husky with emotion and Sam's eyes widened slightly, he shook his head quickly. No, no hospital. He was fine. Just freaked.

"Can I see. Please Sam, I won't touch you...just need to know you're ok...how you are...please."

Sam sighed softly, looked down, then back at his brother, "There's nothing to see, Dean. I'm fine. It... it wasn't like that. Not really. I'll be fine. I'm just a little freaked is all." Sam told him softly, before looking away again.
He slowly, unzipped the top of his jacket slightly, and held it open, "It's just my neck, that's all, no big deal."