The rest of the day had been… tense. To say the least.

Dean wouldn't go as far as saying things were as tense as they'd been right before Sam had left his family for college, but it was pretty damn close. Dad and Sam seemed determined to ignore each other's presence. Dean felt like he was tiptoeing around a minefield, afraid one wrong word spoken would set off a chain of explosions like before. So he'd kept quiet most of the night, and frankly it was driving him up the wall.

Before dinner Dad had left to check on his truck and when he'd come back Dean's hopes that his father would be leaving that night were dashed when the older man said the truck wouldn't be ready till morning. Dean didn't know whether to feel guilty for wishing his father would leave or upset that the older man seemed just as upset that he had to stay the night again with them.

Needless to say, dinner had not been a fun affair. Sam insisting he wasn't hungry, Dad looking pissed as hell at first, then worse, like he didn't care at all a minute later when he stormed out towards the diner demanding Dean come along. Not knowing what to do anymore, still worried that Sam was still a little pissed off at him from earlier, he'd went with his father. Maybe hoping to smooth some of the older man's ruffled feathers only he ended up sitting there silently in the booth across from his Dad, not even eating half of his food, taking the rest in a doggy bag with him back to their room in case Sam was hungry later.

John had decided to go to bed early that night, wanting to get up as early as possible in the morning, that meant all of them were going to bed early. Dean didn't argue, it would only help morning to come quicker after all, and thank god neither had Sam. Dad had gone to bed, and Dean crawled under the covers beside his brother. Each of them staying on their respective sides of the queen until the older man fell asleep and even after their father had been snoring softly for some time Dean felt a little reluctant closing the distance between them. After the fit his brother had thrown last night…

But, damn it, he needed to at least know it wasn't him that Sam was pissed off at, that they really were ok and Sam wasn't just telling him what he wanted to hear to shut him up, if an elbow to the ribs is what it took to prove that… Dean rolled over onto his side and slid close to the younger man. Wrapping an arm securely around his brother's waist and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

The heavy silence in the room had been unbearable. The longer it lasted, the more wound up Sam got, though he tried to suppress his feelings by burying himself in his research, and by pretending their father wasn’t there. He resented his father’s refusal to break the ice and had all sorts of opinions on what the man was thinking, all the ways he was finding fault in Sam. His gaze strayed to Dean occasionally, but for the most part, they hardly interacted.

The relief he felt when dad left for dinner, dragging Dean with him, was short lived. Too soon, he returned, looking even more pissed off than before dinner, and practically decreeing it was bed time. Wordlessly, Sam undressed and slipped inside the bed, on the side closest to his father’s bed. The angry scowl never left his face, even as he felt Dean’s weight move the mattress and the lights went out.

Sam’s eyes were drilling daggers into his father’s sleeping figure, when he felt Dean’s arm suddenly close around him, as his brother held him and kissed him so lightly, he wondered if he was imagining it. He knew this was hard on Dean… as always, Dean was the casualty in the battle of wills between himself and his dad. For that, he was sorry.

The sounds of snores reassuring him, Sam put his hand over Dean’s arm and pulled to loosen his brother’s hold, then turned to face him. Even in the dark, he could see Dean’s eyes glowing, his face unsmiling, maybe nervous or wary.

Swallowing, he brought his mouth down directly over Dean’s, kissing him slowly. His tongue barely penetrated past Dean’s teeth, and he kept the kiss shallow… just giving and receiving comfort. The last thing he wanted was to set either of them on fire because it was gonna be a long damned night anyway.

Sliding his mouth across Dean’s cheek, to his ear, he murmured. “Sorry bout…” he didn’t have to explain. “Night, Dean.” Adjusting his body, he curled up comfortable on Dean’s chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat and resisting the urge to move his hand from above his brother’s tee shirt to the heat he knew he’d find under it. Later he’d move away, but right now, he needed this, and he had a feeling Dean did too.

Dean felt himself holding his breath a moment when he felt his brother grip his arm. The younger man forcing him to loosen his hold, and for a split second Dean felt all of his fears from before beginning to take a hold again against his will. But Sam wasn’t pulling away from him, instead turning around in his embrace, and Dean sighed softly, visibly relaxing as his brother pressed up close against him.

He slipped his other arm around Sam, tightening his embrace once more, and parting his lips eagerly for the easy kiss he was given. The warmth of his brother’s lips and tongue tasting him slowly igniting a slow burning heat in the pit of his stomach. Thrumming just underneath his skin that prickled, begging for the younger man’s touch.

A soft sound of complaint broke free from his lips when the kiss ended. It was kind of odd to feel such contentment and frustration at the same time as his brother’s body settled over him. Feeling his own body relaxing underneath the younger man’s weight even as a different kind of tension began to build in response to Sam’s warmth soaking into him.

“Night…” He whispered softly, determined for once, to control himself. Sam had made it clear last night that he wouldn’t be doing anything with Dad in the room even if the man seemed dead to the world. Besides, their father would be leaving in the morning. They’d have all day to… if Sam wanted…

Dean closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, even as his fingers found their way into his brother’s hair practically involuntarily. Slowly petting through the incredibly soft strands. Ghosting down to the back of his brother’s neck, lightly caressing the warm skin he found.

“Mmm.” Sam involuntarily gave a sound of pleasure, smiling against Dean’s chest. This was new, different, and very unlike Dean in his mind, but it felt good. Or maybe the word was ‘right.’ Between the soothing movements of Dean’s fingers in his hair, and the safety of his arms around him, Sam thought sleep wouldn’t be an issue. The tension that had built up all day long should melt away.

Well... he’d bee wrong before. Sleep didn’t come quickly. Every time he heard his father shift or turn, Sam held his breath. Then he’d feel Dean’s arms tighten around him, and know that he was keeping his brother up too. God... would morning never come?

Eventually he slowly moved out of Dean’s arms, and rolled onto his side. Letting out a deep breath, he tried to convince him tomorrow would be better. They’d be over today’s drama, they’d get coffee and send dad off. Even forcing himself to think calming thoughts didn’t seem to help. A part of him was still edgy and nervous. He kinda wished he could go for a run, but knew if he tried, he’d have to deal with not one, but two angry men.

He sighed again, eyeing the book on the nightstand and wondering if he could get away with turning on just the lamp.

Dean was trying to relax, he really was, and in a way he was relaxed. Holding his brother like this, petting him, hearing the soft sound of pleasure the younger man made as he stroked his hair and neck made him smile. It was soothing and it felt good. Maybe too good, because despite how he tried he couldn’t ignore the other tension, the one itching right underneath his skin, begging for more than just this simple soothing touch.

The one that begged for him to run his hands all over his brother’s body, made him want to trace every muscle, grip the younger man’s ass, and stroke his cock. The one that wanted more than just that gentle kiss, wanted to taste the younger man deeper, longer, crush their lips together till they both ached and make Sam moan wantonly in his arms.

Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he had a problem. Maybe he needed to learn how to control himself. But could his brother really blame him for being so damn horny for him all the time? Sam had a body to die for and being so close like this was a kind of sweet torture.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Sam was feeling it too. Since his brother wasn’t asleep any more than he was. There was a definite tension in the younger man’s body, Dean could feel it, but it was difficult to tell if Sam was thinking what he was thinking, probably not, or if he was just being all tense and prudish because Dad was sleeping a few feet away. It wasn’t like they were doing anything… even though Dean wanted to be. He really, really, wanted to be.

When his brother finally rolled out of his embrace Dean had to bite back the sound of disappointment that welled up immediately in his throat. He stared at the younger man for a few moments in the dark. The tense line of his shoulders, counting his brother’s carefully measured breaths that were anything but calm or relaxed. He stared at his brother on the other side of the bed for a full ten minutes before he finally said, fuck it.

If neither of them were going to get any sleep tonight, why even try? Never know, what he had planned might just relax them both enough to get some sleep afterwards. Worth a try, right? He had a feeling his brother wouldn’t see it that way, but that didn’t stop Dean from rolling over as well. Pressing himself up against the younger man’s back once more, and once again brushing his lips at the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

“You’re tense…” He murmured softly. Slipping his arm around Sam’s waist, not at all hesitant this time, as his fingers worked their way eagerly underneath his brother’s shirt to rest his palm flat on the younger man’s firmly muscled stomach, holding his brother tightly. A small moan escaping his lips, wetly kissing and licking the flesh beneath them, as he pressed his crotch firmly against his brother’s ass, rubbing insistently, letting the younger man feel him hardening. “I can help with that…”

Sam wasn’t real surprised when Dean rolled close and pressed up against him. A smile played on his lips as he thought about how they’d been since the first day they got Dean away from the werewolves. If it wasn’t Dean moving into his space in bed, it was Sam instinctively moving into Dean’s space. Yeah, at first it had been because Dean was injured, but later... Something was definitely drawing them together. Something that couldn’t be denied, even if it should be.

“A little,” Sam whispered. Just as his eyes drifted shut, he felt a change in Dean. His soft touches suddenly became more aggressive, trapping Sam between his palms pressing and pulling against his stomach, and his entire body. Just like... God dammit... just like that, Sam was on fire, involuntarily pressing back against Dean’s arousal and moaning softly at the blinding heat coursing through his system.

It was wrong to need Dean this much when they were alone. It was a thousand times worse to want him, to need to feel his tongue in his mouth, to feel his cock inside him, to hear him cry out his name, with their father only a few feet away.

His heart was pounding against his chest, his mouth parted as he struggled for air. Dean’s hands were wreaking havoc with his senses, so he put his own over them, stilling them, and croaked. “No more, Dean. It’s not helping... not helping at all.”

Feeling his brother’s pulse kick up underneath his lips, feeling the skin underneath his hands flush with arousal, hearing the younger man moan softly, had Dean biting back his own groan of pleasure as he was suddenly incredibly hard. He couldn’t stop from rubbing his arousal firmly against the younger man’s buttocks, the thin material of their shorts the only thing keeping them apart. His lips now sucking a faint bruise at Sam’s neck, letting his teeth scrape just a little.

God, he almost couldn’t believe how Sam could affect him. He could never seem to get enough of touching him, tasting his skin, wanting to fuck him. He’d ached to be inside his brother again ever since that night and it was almost too much to bear. He’d never wanted, needed, anyone like this before. Maybe it was wrong but he didn’t give a damn. He didn’t give a damn that their father was sleeping only a few feet from them, that they could be caught at any second.

Maybe it was sick and twisted, but it may have only excited him more.

Then, of course, his brother started to protest, but Dean was ready for it this time. Biting down a little harder on the younger man’s neck, just enough to sting a little, before he soothed it away with his tongue. Using the distraction to slip his hands out from underneath Sam’s, one of them reaching up to cover his brother’s mouth to muffle any more sounds of protest, or anything else for that matter, while his other hand slid lower to cup his brother through his underwear, giving the younger man’s cock a few gentle squeezes.

“Shhh, it will, I promise…” Dean all but purred in his brother’s ear.

Before Sam had time to voice how pissed off he was getting about all the marks Dean kept leaving on his skin, Dean’s palm was over his cock, squeezing him, touching him, scorching him with such heat, Sam would have come off the mattress but for his brother’s iron grip around his waist and shoulder.

How could he intellectually hate the possessive and entitled way in which he was being touched and groped, and yet have his body react so strongly to it? It irked him that it was exactly his brother’s sexual aggression that got to him, that turned him on like this, like nothing else could. What kind of loser would want ... need to be controlled?

Then Dean’s hand was stroking and pressing, making him ache and need more. Between that and the feel of Dean’s hard cock grinding ruthlessly against his ass, and thoughts of how hard Dean was for him, how much he must be hurting too, how much he must want to be inside him... Sam couldn’t think anymore.

His fear of detection was trumped by the urgent needs Dean was so easily building, stoking within him. So hot. So fucking hot. He needed more. More of Dean. Needed to touch him, to claw at him... needed to feel him inside his ass, his mouth. Oh God, something had to put out the fires, something. Blinded with need, Sam writhed almost violently. If Dean hadn’t been so fucking strong, the thrashing would have awakened a dead man. And if his hands weren’t on Sam’s mouth, if they didn’t keep slipping over his nose to stop the noisiest moans that kept trying to break through...

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Dean. Sam reached behind him, trying to grip his ass, trying to hold onto something... anything. This was so insane, so fucking intense... he was gonna die, he just knew he was gonna die.

"Shh…" Dean hushed the younger man again, even as he slid his hand underneath the waistband of his brother's underwear. His fingers curling around the burning heavy weight of Sam's cock and he had to bury his face in his brother's throat to muffle a too loud moan that tried to break free from his own lips.

Dean wasn't an idiot. As much as he was focused on the younger man writhing in his arms, he was also focused on the figure sleeping not a few feet away from them. Monitoring the older man's breathing, if their father shifted or his breath changed, if he gave any indication he was getting ready to wake up, Dean was ready to stop. Though at this point, how needy Sam was, he wondered if it would do any damn good.

Yeah, he was playing with fire right now. Did he care? Hell no.

"Easy baby…" He whispered softly into his brother's ear, his thumb circling around the crown of the younger man's dick, gathering the drops of come that had already leaked free, and spreading it down the length of Sam's shaft. Giving his brother a nice slick channel to fuck into as he stroked the younger man's cock in a quick, almost punishing, rhythm.

He wished he could go slower, to draw out his brother's pleasure as well as his own, to spend hours tasting him and touching him, listening to him moan, but when their dad could wake any second it would be just plain stupid not to get this over with as quickly as they could. As hot as Sam was in his arms, he didn't think his brother was going to last very long anyway. The fact that he could bring the younger man to this point so quickly only made him hotter as well.

As it was he had to hold his brother tightly against him in a near bruising grip just to keep Sam still, to keep him from thrashing, and he couldn't believe how fucking hot restraining his brother like this was. Covering his mouth, sometimes not letting the younger man breathe at all, to keep him silent, crushing him between his chest and the mattress to keep him virtually still, their bodies so close not even air could penetrate between them. Rubbing his throbbing length between the cheeks of the younger man's ass, so fucking close to the heat he so desperately wanted wrapped around him, making him ache even more. So much it was nearly torture for them both but only the sweetest kind.

"That's it, little brother, that's it… don't hold back, Sammy, I've got you…"

Dean’s soft, soothing words whispered in his ear contrasted with the hard hand over his mouth, refusing to allow any sounds to escape. And with his other hand, moving up and down his shaft so hard, so fast... making Sam feel like he was running a race, trying to catch up... trying. Oh God... oh God... oh God, he wanted to shout as the pleasure pain kept sharpening, intensifying, with no end in sight.

His entire body was coated with a sheen of sweat, he didn’t know if it was his own or Dean’s... they were pressed together so tight it was hard to tell. He was so hot, so fucking hot, he was burning up. The longer it lasted, the hungrier he was for more. He wanted to tell Dean to fuck him, to pull the damned shorts down and get inside him... now. He needed it so fucking bad, and Dean wasn’t letting him talk... wasn’t letting him explain.

He started to thrash harder, fevered and desperate, wanting to come... wanting to wait until Dean was inside him... frustrated by the cloth that separated their bodies, that stopped Dean’s arousal from entering him... from being part of him. God damn it..., he was trying to twist away when Dean whispered again, telling him to come... that he had him.

How did Dean know what to do... what to fucking say to take his choice in the matter away? There wasn’t a thing Sam could do to fight his body's demands, the sudden rush of scorching heat burning him up... flaring from his groin and spreading out. He mindlessly jerked back and forth, his mind shattering into a thousand pieces as Dean milked him of his seed and came with him against his ass.

The wetness that spread across the back of his shorts had Sam whimpering. “Wanted you inside,” he whispered between Dean’s fingers. “Dammit... damn you.” He knew he couldn’t have had it the way he wanted, but he also couldn’t fight the rush of anger. “Always your way... always...” And yet he didn’t move away, didn’t shove Dean to the other side, and didn’t even get up to change. He just rested the back of his head against Dean and closed his eyes, putting his hand over Dean’s still around his waist... maybe an unconscious effort to keep him there.

Dean grit his teeth together so hard his jaw ached, barely holding in the cry of pleasure that tried to break free feeling Sam thrash and moan in his arms. The younger man fighting hard against him in his passion and for a moment Dean wasn’t sure he could hold onto his brother through it all and he worried he might actually cause serious damage to Sam trying.

But then his brother stiffened and shot load after load of hot semen through his fingers and Dean buried a groan in the back of his lover’s neck coming seconds after his brother. Hardly caring about the hot sticky mess he left inside his own underwear as he continued to stroke his brother, slowing his pace, trying to ease the younger man down gently. Finally risking relaxing his hand over his brother’s mouth.

Dad was still asleep. The older man’s breathing hadn’t changed despite the fact that they hadn’t exactly been as quiet as he’d hoped during the last of that, and Dean breathed a small sigh of relief between his panting breaths against the back of his brother’s neck. That had been close, too damn close, and he finally got what Sam was saying. Despite how fucking hot that was they couldn’t do that again, at least not while their father was around. Couldn’t risk it.

Though he found his resolve already weakening when he heard Sam’s soft whisper, muffling a small moan against his brother’s skin and pressing a kiss to the younger man’s sweat slicked shoulder. God, but he’d wanted to be inside Sam as well. So fucking bad. Sam’s angry whispered words after confused Dean, well, maybe not confused, since he had known he would be risking his brother’s displeasure making out like that with their dad in the room. But that’s not what Sam was saying, either. Always his way?

Whatever it was about Sam obviously wasn’t pissed off enough at him to push him away, quite the opposite, so Dean decided he’d worry about it later. He was too damn tired to think about it right now. He at least felt he could sleep now as he pressed another soft kiss to the junction of his brother’s neck and nestled in as close to Sam as he possibly could.

“Get some sleep, Sammy.” He murmured, already feeling himself drifting off.

Sam fell into a deep, dreamless. What scared him when he woke was how dead to the world he’d been. And not only him, Dean as well. Somehow they’d ended up holding each other and anyone who saw them like that would have to be clueless not to know.

It had to be a miracle that their father hadn’t changed positions and that he was still sleeping. They’d gone to bed so fucking early, it was just unbelievable. Unless he was just that exhausted from his prior trip.

A frisson of guilt went through Sam. Maybe that’s why his dad had wanted him to be the one to go chase down Connall in New Mexico. Trying to put that behind him, he got out of bed. The smell of sex was almost overpowering and freaked him out.

He almost woke Dean up, to make him take a shower... get rid of their shorts... anything. But after taking a few deep breaths, he settled on sprinkling a bit of cologne on the bed, and then headed for the bathroom.

After his shower, as he was getting dressed, he saw the new bruises. One on his hip, from how hard Dean had been holding him. That didn’t bug him, but the one on the side of his neck had him cursing. When he padded out into the room, the others were still sleeping.

He was halfway dressed when he had to dive to stop his phone. It was vibrating, and if it wasn’t picked up, it would ring. One glance told him it was Jess. He had to do this, had to.

Sneaking out of the room barefooted, he went and leaned against the wall and took her call. Of course she was worried. He hadn’t been calling her, and hadn’t been answering her messages. He felt like such a shit. Such a goddamned awful shit.

Eventually he squatted down and spoke to her, one heavy lie tripping so easily off his tongue after the next. He was a Winchester. He could scam like the best. By the time he was done, she wasn’t angry and just said she’d expect to hear from him in a couple days.

Then she added, “I love you,” and he was stumped.

“Sam?”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’m here. I love you two,” he said, closing his eyes, relieved to hear her hang up. He sat there like that for a while, long enough for someone to ask if he was okay. He nodded and got up.

Rubbing his eyes as he walked inside, he decided he really couldn’t put off going for a run. It might be his last chance anyway, with dad here to stay with Dean.

When Dean woke up he was alone in the bed. Probably why he'd woke up in the first place, actually. He was always keenly aware these days when Sam was around, or not around, for that matter. Another part of his new uncontrollable obsession with his brother… Of course that didn't really explain why he smelled like he'd taken a bath in Obsession for Men.

Christ. Had Sam dumped the whole bottle of cologne on him! Yeah, like that was something subtle that dad wouldn't notice, much easier to explain than a wet dream or something. Of course maybe it wasn't as strong as he thought it was. Maybe it was him.

His sense of smell seemed to be growing more acute every day that passed. Not to mention his hearing, which was why he knew his brother was just outside the motel room door even though he could tell Sam was speaking in a fairly quiet tone.

Who the hell was he talking to? Phone. Had to be. Definitely not their dad since the older man was still sleeping in the bed across from him. The mysterious 'Jess'? The person who Sam couldn't talk to on the phone while his brother was around? The cause of that freak out session in the car when his brother had asked him about cheating on someone…

Dean felt a cold bitter emotion settle in his stomach he didn't want to examine too closely. It was dark and poisonous and frankly scared the hell out of him.

I love you, too.

White hot jealous rage bubbled up so quickly inside him when he heard the soft muffled words he felt almost dizzy with it. His fingernails digging cruelly into the flesh of his palm, the pain so sharp he gasped and looked down at his hand and the blood dripping from his closed fist. When he opened it he felt like his blood had suddenly turned to ice seeing his fingernails, for a moment, long and sharpened like claws.

Dean was off the bed in a second, running to the bathroom and slamming the door loud enough to wake his father out of a sound sleep. Causing the older man to sit up with a jolt and instinctively reaching for the gun under his pillow ready for danger. Looking from the door as Sam came in from outside, then to the bathroom. John got off the bed, crossed the room quickly to the bathroom, and tried the door, finding it was unsurprisingly locked.

"Dean? Open the door." John ordered through the door, barely keeping the worry bordering on panic he felt out of his tone and he didn't even give a damn if he was overreacting. Remembering all too well how his son had already tried to kill himself twice. Five seconds. That was all Dean was getting. Five seconds and then the door was coming off its hinges.

Not that the younger man realized any of this. He was too busy dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, heaving his guts out.

“What happened?” Sam shouted, also at the door with his father, pounding on it. Dean wasn’t gonna do something stupid was he. Not again, no. Please God, please no. Please. “Dean. Dean open the door. Dean?”

Sam stepped back and nodded at his dad. “Go ahead, break it.” Forget privacy, forget everything... if Dean wasn’t answering, something was the hell wrong. So many things in the bathroom, mirror, blades, hell... if he wanted to, he could hang himself.

His chest heaved as his heart pounded against his chest. An icy cold finger of fear slid down his spine as his dad kicked the door open. “Let me...”

He didn’t even wait for his dad’s answer, he scrambled inside and dropped to his knees next to his brother, sliding his hand up and down his bare back. “It’s alright... he’s just sick,” he shouted over his shoulder, sure the relief in his dad’s eyes was reflected in his own.

“Okay Dean, you’re gonna be okay.” He was still breathing hard, still touching Dean, trying to offer comfort even when Dean was dry heaving. “Okay... you’re empty. Must have been something you ate.”

He tried to start lifting Dean up, but that’s when he saw the blood. A bit of scarlet smeared on the white tile. His breath caught in his throat, just as his heart stuttered. Gripping Dean’s hand, he picked it up. “What have you done?”

His brain froze as he tried to understand, and then when he realized the cuts were not the small half moons that he’d expect to see from fingernails. Shock reverberated through his system, and he was the one who wanted to throw up now. As much as he’d claimed he could take it... “Dean,” he pulled him into his arms and held him tight, not giving a flying fuck what his dad saw... or what he thought. He didn’t wanna lose Dean to whatever he was becoming. He didn’t want Dean afraid of what he was becoming. But he was powerless... so fucking powerless, and all he could do was hold him. “Alright. It’s gonna be alright,” he crooned, over and over, unsure who he was convincing.

Dean didn’t hear the pounding on the door or the shouts from his father and brother over his own retching. His body convulsing as he threw up the meager contents of his stomach, what little dinner he’d eaten last night, but even when there couldn’t be anything left he continued to heave. He almost welcomed the painful cramping, the burning in his throat from the stomach acid, because that pain kept him from focusing on the pain in his hand. The pain caused from claws, his claws, buried deep in his own flesh. Just a hint of what he would become in a few weeks.

But it had happened now… The change brought on by his own irrational jealous rage. Oh god… dear god…

Helpless, hopeless, tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over his cheeks. He barely heard the sound of the door being broken open. Barely felt the warm hand on his back stroking up and down in a vain attempt to sooth him as he continued to retch. Barely heard his brother’s voice, his gentle words of comfort, even though he knew Sam was there. He always knew Sam was there. He knew his father was there too, watching.

He knew they were worried. He could hear it in his brother’s voice, feel it, but he could do nothing to offer them any reassurance that he would be ok. Because he wasn’t and he would never be ok again. It was then that he felt his brother grasp his wounded hand, lift it up to examine the wound, and Dean just knew that Sam knew. They both knew. He heard it in the sound of his own name on the younger man’s lips. Heard it in his father’s sharp intake of breath. Felt it in the way Sam suddenly embraced him, practically cradling him against his body, a sob welling up in Dean’s throat he just couldn’t fight back. He could only clutch at the younger man desperately clinging to the whispered reassurances they both knew weren’t true.

Their father looking on, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dean’s wounded hand. The slices in his palm too prominent, too deep, the wrong shape, to have possibly been made by fingernails. But why? How? They still had weeks before the full moon. How could Dean possibly have changed now? Its true he’d heard rumors that some of the older and more powerful werewolves could change at will, that the change might even spontaneously happen as a result of strong emotions, but Dean had only just been bitten, hadn’t even gone through one lunar cycle yet, it made no sense…

Again John found himself torn, debating whether or not to leave his sons here alone, perhaps he should stay, but what point would that serve in the end? His presence alone would not stop the change from coming. Only finding a cure as quickly as possible would help Dean.

“I’m going to check on the truck. Take care of your brother.” John finally said, swallowing down his pain seeing his son like this caused, instead focusing on his determination to save his son. He turned to get dressed, leaving Dean in his brother’s, obviously, more than capable hands. Seeing as how the tension in the younger man’s frame already had begun to melt away thanks to Sam’s efforts.

He heard his father say he was leaving to see about his truck. Sam was torn. He wanted to tell his dad to hurry, to just go out there and find Connall, to step on it. But he wanted to beg him to stay, or to take them with him, too. He was afraid, so fucking afraid of what Dean would to. What if he couldn’t stop Dean from hurting himself? What if he’d been taking a razor to his wrist instead of throwing up, and Sam wasn’t there to stop him. What if?

Barely nodding to his father, he just kept his hold on his brother… hanging onto him, letting Dean hang on to him. He didn’t even know what he said, what he whispered to Dean. Whatever it was, it was all from his heart… straight from his heart. He couldn’t lose Dean. He wouldn’t.

When he thought Dean had calmed enough, he asked him to get up. Together they stood and Sam helped him to the sink. Their eyes met in the mirror, so serious, passing messages back and forth only they could understand.

Right after Dean brushed his teeth, Sam noticed the revulsion in Dean’s eyes as he stared at his own hand putting the toothbrush in a glass.

“No. No Dean,” he whispered, taking his brother’s hand and turning it over. The wounds were already healing, but what might have had him gasping in wonder meant nothing at the moment. Very deliberately, he kissed Dean’s knuckles and the ends of his fingers. “It’s still you Dean. It’s you.”

Dean wasn’t sure how long the two of them sat like that on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, the taste of bile still strong and nauseating in his mouth, and Sam clinging to him like his brother was afraid he would vanish from his arms like smoke in an instant if he let go. Dean must have been afraid of much the same thing, because he clung to the younger man just as tightly. Just as desperately. Until Sam finally suggested softly that they should get up and Dean merely nodded. Feeling too drained physically and mentally from his most recent panic attack to argue.

Letting his brother help him to his feet, and though he felt a bit shaky at first, and he cursed under his breath. Ordering himself to get a fucking grip, the voice inside his head sounding suspiciously like his father even though the older man had already left the motel room. Nothing had changed during the last few minutes, he reminded himself. He’d always had known what he would become. They both had. He’d just been… unprepared… for the weight of reality to come crashing down on him so soon.

Dean could clearly see how much he was scaring his brother, saw it written all over Sam’s face when their eyes met in the mirror briefly before he looked away. Grabbing his toothbrush and cleaning his teeth vigorously, erasing the taste of his own sickness, wishing he could so easily remove the darker taint inside of him, and this time he wasn’t even thinking about the werewolf venom running through his veins. Rather the poisonous jealous rage he’d felt, strong enough to have triggered the change early inside of him.

When his brother grasped his wounded hand, brushing the softest kisses over his fingertips that had minutes ago been vicious claws capable of tearing flesh, Dean felt guilt twist inside of him like a hot knife. Sam had no idea why, hadn’t even asked him why it had happened, how, he merely accepted it, trying to comfort him. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if Sam knew he’d been thinking about tearing out the throat of the person his brother loved if he’d be so understanding…

“Is it? I don’t even know what’s me anymore, Sam.” He whispered, pulling his hand away and gripping the edge of the sink tightly with both hands, hanging his head in shame. “Don’t you even want to even know why? I heard you, Sam. On the phone. When you said you… loved them… right then I really wanted to kill that person. That’s why it happened… is that really me, Sammy?”

Sam was startled by how roughly Dean tugged his hand away. He was shaking his head ‘no’ as his brother started to beat himself up, doubting who he was, asking whether Sam even wanted to know why it happened. Before he could answer, Dean dropped his bomb.

The blood drained from Sam’s face. His heart started to pound hard all over again. His mind was a mess of thoughts and fears. He’d known Dean getting more and more possessive, but he’d never understood how extreme it was or could get. He didn’t even want to think of his brother having the urge to kill Jessica. This was his fault... he should never have left Dean alone.

He took a few shallow breaths and read Dean’s body language, biting his lip at the pain and guilt emanating from his brother. “Dean.” When thee was no answer, he stepped behind Dean and closed his arms around is waist, holding him close and whispering in his ear. “No, that’s not you. This is you.”

More silence, and all he could do was hold Dean closer and lean his chin on his brother’s shoulder. “I never thought it was going to be easy. I’m not expecting it to be. We’ll figure out your emotional triggers and avoid them, okay? She... she’s not gonna call for a while.” He didn’t know whether he should have brought Jess up or not, but it just slipped out. “I’ll be more careful. Dean?” He called him again, frowning when his brother still refused to look up. “I wanted to kill you last night. And this morning... you’re leaving bruises in all the wrong places. But I still love you. Thinking about killing someone doesn’t change that. You just got angry.”

Dean wasn’t surprised when Sam didn’t say anything for a long time. The elder man was a little surprised he’d blurted all of that out, but he didn’t regret it. One thing he’d never do was knowingly put his brother in danger, Sam deserved to know just how dangerous he was… he was becoming. Sam needed to be prepared. He was surprised however even after Dean had admitted he’d wanted to kill someone, someone not some damn monster, and not only that someone his brother… loved… that Sam still wanted to touch him at all much less put his arms around him to comfort him.

He didn’t stiffen or try to pull away, welcoming his brother’s efforts even though he didn’t think he deserved them. Didn’t think it would make much difference. Though he supposed it could be worse, Sam could be pissed at him, yell at him, not touch him because he was disgusted by him… Sometimes he almost wished his brother would. Then at least Sam might be prepared for the worst. Be prepared to put him down like the animal he was becoming…

Dean sighed a little when his brother tried to reassure him that this was him. The real him. The part that regretted his anger, but the worst part of it was, he didn’t regret it all. He regretted his loss of control. He regretted freaking his father, brother, not to mention himself, out so much. But he couldn’t deny the intense jealousy that still flashed through him when Sam mentioned her. He couldn’t deny the part of him that wanted to hold Sam, touch him, mark him, and make the younger man, and everyone else, know without a doubt who his brother belonged to. Was that him as well? If so which part of him was really the most dangerous part…

A small huff of laughter escaped him when Sam said he wanted to kill him for leaving marks on him in all the wrong places. Yeah, maybe his brother was pretty pissed about that, and he could understand why, but there was a big difference between that and what had happened this morning. Especially since Dean knew if he’d had a chance, in that moment, he might have actually gone through with it. Killing someone, and they both knew it.

But right now Dean was felt far too drained physically and emotionally to argue the point. Right now he was willing to pretend it wasn’t as bad as they both knew it to be, because he didn’t think he could handle the consequences otherwise. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he let one of his hands move to cover his brother’s where they were wrapped around him. Lifting his head to look in the mirror, into Sam’s eyes, and giving the younger man a slight nod.

From the look Dean gave him, Sam knew Dean was done with the conversation. He might be, but Sam wasn’t.

Long moments passed as he worked up his courage and told Dean what was in his heart. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of this... of what’s happening to you. We’ll either stop it or deal with it." There wasn't even a hint of doubt in his voice, because he believed it. The road ahead could be hard, or very hard, but either way, they could deal with it together. Their lives had never been easy, anyway. "You wanna know what I’m afraid of Dean? Really scared shitless of?”

The way their gazes were still locked in the mirror, Sam knew Dean was listening... waiting. “Same thing you’re afraid of. Waking up one day and finding you gone.” He wouldn’t say suicide... he couldn’t, but that was the first thing that had been on his mind when he’d found his father pounding on a locked door. “We’re not so different, Dean. I need you.”

He heard the door to the room open and a look of sheer frustration crossed his features. Tightening his hold for a moment, he whispered in Dean’s ear. “I love you too.”

Pulling away, he slapped him on the back and opened the bathroom door. Walking into the room, he met his father’s dark, worried gaze. “It’s... it’s alright.” He could tell his dad wanted to talk to him alone, but he didn’t know how they’d pull it off, or if they even could. In all honesty, he just wanted some time to hold Dean for a little while longer.

Looking into his brother’s eyes, Dean wished he had half as much confidence in himself as Sam appeared to have in him. His brother had told him more than once that he was not afraid of him but he never thought he really believed it until now.

That almost scared him more, the amount of trust Sam had in him. He was so afraid that trust would backfire and Sam would pay for it, maybe even with his life. But at the same time he needed his brother to believe in him because if Sam didn’t… Dean knew he’d be long dead already. Nothing else would have stopped him from going off that bridge and nothing would have stopped him from pulling that trigger. Just Sam… believing he deserved to live.

It seemed Sam always knew what to say to make himself believe it too.

Dean heard their dad’s truck pull up outside even before he heard the door to the motel room open and the look of frustration on his brother’s face almost made him smile. His brother’s parting words should have made his heart feel all fluttery like a girl’s but instead Dean felt the bitter taste of jealousy once more in the back of his throat and knew for a fact this wasn’t over.

It wouldn’t be the last time something like this happened, because he knew he was completely incapable of sharing Sam with anyone else. Dean looked down at his hand gripping the edge of the sink and a cold feeling swept through him knowing next time it might not be his own blood he spilled.

***

John was already in the process of packing his things into his duffel when Sam emerged from the bathroom. When Dean didn’t emerge with his brother he knew his worry must have shown clearly on his face because Sam quickly assured him it was all right. They both knew that wasn’t the case, not by a long shot, but right now it seemed they were both willing to believe it.

So, John merely nodded even though there was so much more he wanted to say, ask, but there wasn’t any time as he continued throwing his clothes and other items quickly into his bag, prepared to be on the road within the next several minutes if it seemed like Sam was handling his brother ok. It seemed Sam was, better than he would have ever given the younger man credit for, and he felt a pang of guilt at that. Realizing his previous lack of faith in Sam had only widened the rift between father and sons when that was the last thing Dean needed right now. Dean needed his family there for him right now, together not divided.

“I’ll call when I reach Los Alamos. It shouldn’t take me more than a few days to find out if there’s any information we can use to track down Connall there. If anything happens, anything, call me, I’ll come back.” It was an order as well as a plea as John Winchester hefted his packed duffel over his shoulder. The older man lifted his other hand to place on his younger son’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “I know you’ll take care of him.”

He knew the reminder to call if anything happened was a comment on the fact he hadn’t called before when things happened. When they’d run into werewolves and when Dean had tried to end his life. It didn’t stir up any anger though, not now when everything paled in comparison to what happened a short while ago.

“I will. Find him, dad,” Sam’s voice was husky with emotion as he nodded, acknowledging the squeeze on his shoulder. He walked all the way to the door, and would have probably gone to the car with his dad but Dean was still hiding in the bathroom, and leaving him alone was unthinkable.

Once he saw his father get into his car across the parking lot, Sam closed the door and headed for the bathroom. “Dean?” He pushed the door open wider and saw his brother hadn’t moved from in front of the mirror.

He could almost imagine the thoughts that had to be going through Dean’s head. About what he was turning into. What he’d be like. He’d bet his first fear was that he’d hurt the ones he loved. He knew no matter what he said, that Dean would hate himself and wouldn’t be quite able to separate the ‘disease’ from himself. “I’d do anything to take it away, Dean. Anything,” he whispered softly, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

It wasn’t Dean’s intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help overhearing his brother and his father speaking. Short of sticking his fingers in his ears and humming he probably would have heard them even if they had decided to talk outside, and Dean wasn’t going to resort to that any time soon. He’d made himself look like enough of an idiot already this morning.

Anyway it wasn’t so much what was said between Sam and their Dad that had Dean wincing it was the tone. The worry, the fear, for him he could pick up in both men’s voices was unmistakable, and maybe it made him the worst kind of coward that he didn’t even leave the bathroom to see his father off, not wanting to see that same fear in his father’s expression when the older man looked at him. He just didn’t think he could take that on top of everything else that had happened.

Then John was gone. He heard the motel room close. Heard the sound of his father’s truck driving away, and for the first time Dean truly hoped his dad would find something. Not that he hadn’t been hoping before, but he almost didn’t let himself acknowledge it before. Believing having that hoping and having those hopes dashed would be worse… but he was wrong. This was worse. Having no hope at all.

Dean didn’t look up at first when his brother returned and said his name. The elder man doing his best to compose himself so he wouldn’t lose it again in front of Sam. The younger man quiet for some time afterwards, as though giving him more time to do so, but his brother’s words, the expression on Sam’s face when Dean finally straightened and turned to face the younger man, pretty much eradicated that effort.

Dean closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, both giving and receiving comfort.

“I know, Sammy. I know. It’s ok.” He whispered against the younger man’s neck. It wasn’t, they both knew it wasn’t, but for Sam he could pretend.

It wasn’t okay. It wouldn’t be okay until they cured Dean. They had to find a way... had to. But until then, they could tolerate... they could take whatever happened. “We’re in this together, Dean,” he said, trying not to get choked up as he hugged his brother back, equally hard.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, but eventually they separated. He asked if Dean wanted coffee or breakfast, and without his brother answering, he just knew Dean didn’t want to be around people for a while. “Let’s just bring some coffee back,” he suggested, “come with me.”

They both knew that ordinarily Sam would have just stepped out and brought the drinks, but right now, there was no way he was leaving Dean alone. He didn’t know if Dean didn’t want to stay alone, or if he was doing this for him, but his brother merely nodded and came along.

When they returned to the room, and got on the bed to watch a little television and take some time out for themselves, there was a slightly awkward moment when each of them tried to put an arm around the other at the same time. Sam cleared his throat and laughed. “Your turn to be the chick,” he insisted, pulling Dean into the shelter of his arms. If he’d expected a fight, he didn’t find one. Not now.

Slowly, he felt Dean relax against him and slouch down, laying his head on his chest. “You’re hot like a furnace.” Sam brushed his mouth across Dean’s temple.

When Sam suggested they go get coffee, Dean didn’t argue. He didn’t really feel like eating anything at the moment after puking his guts out, but caffeine was always welcome. He didn’t even lift an eyebrow when his brother suggested they go together. Merely nodding as he moved to throw on some clothes quickly. Not really caring much about his appearance, he only ran his hand through his hair once as pulled on his boots, not even bothering to lace them up. Not like they’d be out long anyway.

Even though he didn’t really feel like going out, he also didn’t want Sam to go alone. At least, that’s what he told himself. Whatever his reasons, he was eager for any kind of distraction right now. Anything that might get them past what had happened this morning. Back to normal, or at least normal for them. So he joined his brother walking across the parking lot to the diner. If he stood a little closer to the younger man than necessary as they waited for their coffee neither one of them mentioned it.

Soon they were back in the motel room, the tension draining out of the elder man almost immediately once they were back. Dean was a little ashamed to admit just how much more relaxed he already felt with Dad not around, watching their every move. Watching him. Where he could sit with his brother, touch him how he wanted, needed to, fucking snuggle on the bed together and not have to worry about the consequences.

Dean snorted softly at his brother’s words as Sam wrapped his freakishly long arms around him, but he didn’t complain. Not now at least, it felt too good as he relaxed comfortably against his brother. Pretending like he was watching the television when really he was focused almost completely on the younger man, like he normally was these days, listening to the strong beat of the younger man’s heart beneath his ear.

“I’m fine, Sam.” He said softly before his brother could start worrying like he was getting a fever or something. His brother had worried about him enough today, he didn’t want him worrying even more.

“I know you are, but let’s just keep an eye on it, okay.” They’d been sleeping in the same bed for long enough that Sam felt the change. It reminded him of the days that Dean had been feverish, when they’d rescued him. Having seen how quickly Dean’s wounds closed earlier, a part of him wondered whether Dean could even get sick now, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

He stroked upwards from Dean’s shoulder to his neck, back and forth until he brought his hand to a rest, cupping the side of Dean’s neck. They spoke a little, about nothing important. He didn’t know how Dean felt, but for Sam, just hearing his brother’s voice nice and steady was reassuring. And when Dean said anything funny, Sam laughed longer than he might otherwise.

Even Dean’s roar bordering on insulting, in response to the maid’s knock on the door to ask about room service, had Sam’s shoulder’s shaking. Teasing Dean about being a caveman, he just held him closer. “Now I have to explain to her how you’re crabby in the mornings,” he sighed. “And she’s gonna gip us on towels.”

* * *

A sound from the t.v. brought Sam awake with a start. Dean was resting heavily against him, which told him his brother was asleep too. Lifting his hand, he looked at his watch and was surprised he’d been out for a few hours. Then again, he hadn’t had much sleep last night.

Gently, he untangled Dean from himself and swung his feet off the bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to wake up completely. As an afterthought, he reached for Dean’s forehead, his mouth tightening when he found his brother was still too warm.

What had started out as a crappy morning to end all crappy mornings was actually turning out not so bad, Dean had to admit. He didn’t even mind Sam treating him like the chick, even though they both knew his brother was the bitch in this relationship. Dean smiled a little at that thought, even though he didn’t say aloud right now. He was enjoying the feel of the younger man’s arms around him, Sam petting him, too much right now to risk his brother getting all pissy on him. Dean knew he’d definitely need to save that line for later though.

Feeling exhausted from the drama of the morning, not to mention lack of sleep from the night before, Dean drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep. He probably would have slept for a lot longer if his pillow hadn’t started moving around on him, ignoring his soft mumbled complaint, and pulling away from him. But not ready to get up himself Dean merely snuggled into the warm spot left behind with a sigh. Relaxing again and trying to go back to sleep, at least until he felt the light almost tickling brush across his forehead and tried to swat it away with a grumble of annoyance.

“Ow?” Startled and glaring at his brother, Sam muttered a few choice words and pulled away. Pulling his large frame off the bed, he raised his arms and stretched, then tilted his head to the side to get the kinks out.

He could use another coffee but he wasn’t leaving the room without Dean. He popped into the bathroom and got himself a cup of tap water, before coming back and sitting at the desk and flipping his computer on.

Blowing out a deep breath, he waited for it to boot up. There had to be something he’d missed. Something he could do. He needed another angle. Maybe researching things particular to werewolves was too narrow. What about ways and means of stopping other changes... curses... supernatural physical conditions... what about wish granting entities. Yeah... if there was a way here, he was gonna find it. His brother wasn’t going to be sentenced to a life of self loathing, not if he had anything to do with it.

Dean only slept for another hour or so. His sleep unfortunately fitful and uneasy ever since his brother left the bed. Of course he’d dreamt of the werewolves and his time he’d spent as a prisoner. That was almost a nightly ritual now. He couldn’t close his eyes for a minute without a fucking play by play of everything he’d much rather forget. Then there were the dreams of himself turning, killing innocents, killing Sam, ripping his father apart… He was really starting to get sick of it. Of not being able to sleep a full night without these damned dreams.

The elder man would bite off his own tongue before admitting aloud that he needed Sam sleeping next to him, like he was some kid that needed a big teddy bear or something, to keep the bad dreams away. Unfortunately that was pretty much what it amounted to. It was only when Sam was with him, when he could bury himself in the younger man’s touch, his scent, that the dreams, the fear, went away.

God he was pathetic…

Dean grumbled in annoyance under his breath as he rolled over, rubbing his eyes tiredly. How the hell he could still feel tired after just waking up, anyway? Pissed off at himself more than anything. He wasn’t a little kid. He shouldn’t let himself get all worked up over nightmares like this. Dean sighed and dropped his hand, turning his head to glance over at his brother clicking away at the keyboard on his laptop like the younger man normally was these days. Searching for a cure. Which he appreciated, sure, but damn it, they were alone now without Dad breathing down their necks, he wanted Sam with him right now not across the room.

He wanted to kiss, hug, fucking snuggle, and he really wanted to make out, maybe even fuck.

Dean grinned to himself as he slipped his hand underneath the covers, into his shorts, palming his dick that was already half hard just from waking up. Watching the younger man, waiting to see just how long it would take before Sam noticed.

Muttering under his breath, Sam went back to his search engine to try a new line of research. No matter what it took, he was to do this... find a way. He realized suddenly that Dean was still, that the uneasy sleep seemed to have left him.

Turning his head to check, as he’d been doing all along, he saw his brother’s eyes were open. Not fully, but narrow slits staring at him. His eyebrows quirked and he was about to ask a question when he noticed the small rhythmic movement of Dean’s hand. He wasn’t.... couldn’t be...

Turning quickly back to the lap top, he tried to pretend he hadn’t seen. He felt his cheeks burn, and knew his color was high, but he tried to cover. Staring at the computer screen became a chore. Trying to read was worse. Occasionally, he watched his brother’s leisurely movements under his lashes and felt his own body react.

His heart rate kicked up a notch. He swallowed, and tried to breathe normally. But there was nothing normal about this situation. He let out a hot breath and spoke as if to his computer screen. “You know, if you waited an hour, we’d be sure he was across the state lines.” Yeah, that would make Sam feel a lot better about... this.

Another moment passed, and he pulled to his feet and walked to the door, taking his chair with him. Jamming its back under the knob, he made sure the door was secure and turned around.

Damn... how could Dean affect him like this? How could he make him do wild and crazy things... things he’d never contemplate on his own? He knew when to give up, when to stop fighting, and that was exactly what he was doing right now, giving up. He needed Dean, in more ways than one. It was as simple or complicated as that.

Reaching the foot of the bed, with his hands and knees straddling Dean’s body, he crawled up until his face hovered over Dean’s. Dipping his head down, he brushed his mouth over Dean's, then licked across the seam of his lips, pulling up just as Dean moved to kiss him.

“Uh uh...” He gave his brother a wicked smile. “If you want to fuck your hand, keep going, but if you want me... put your hands on the headboard,” he jutted his chin toward the low headboard, “...and let me do this my way. And Dean?” He lowered his body and dragged his hips up Dean’s thighs and groin, his eyes darkening. “No marking me anywhere visible, I mean it. So... what’s your decision?”

When Sam glanced back at him and then looked away quickly, pretending he hadn’t noticed what Dean was doing a grin pulled at the older man’s lips in amusement. As though his brother’s deep blush almost to the tips of his ears wasn’t enough of a clue, Dean had heard the hitch in Sam’s breath, not to mention he could smell the spike of arousal from the younger man making him instantly fully hard. But Dean resisted the urge to grip himself harder or stroke himself faster. Keeping the movements of his hand slow and easy, just shy of teasing himself, waiting for Sam to quit pretending like he didn’t want this just as much.

He watched his brother fidget in his chair for a few minutes and chuckled softly at his brother’s comment about their dad. But figured now probably wasn’t the time to remind Sam that they’d done plenty with John in the same town, not to mention the same room, to have his brother really worrying about state lines. What, did Sam really think their father had some kind of sixth sense of when they were going to fuck and he’d turn the truck around and head back just to interrupt them? Well, he supposed the amount of times Dad had interrupted them while he was here, he’d almost begun to wonder, but still.

When his brother got up, dragging his chair to the door, Dean’s eyebrows rose and he outright laughed when Sam barred the door with it. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about the extra ‘protection’ though when his brother finally approached the bed and Dean licked his lips in anticipation as Sam crawled up over his body to kiss him softly.

The elder man’s first real sound of complaint leaving his lips when his brother wouldn’t let him deepen it and he raised his eyebrow when Sam made his demand. Looking from Sam, to the headboard, and back. His breath hitching and ending in a moan when the younger man rubbed up against him like a cat in heat, the fucking tease. As though he could have even considered saying no to his brother after that.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a real demanding bottom?” Dean asked with feigned annoyance, but he couldn’t deny he was intensely curious, not to mention turned on, about what his brother had planned. So Dean ‘obediently’ pulled his hand out from under the covers, lifting both arms above his head as his brother wanted, grasping the headboard.

“A demanding what? Did you just call me an ass?” Sam frowned and was about to start an argument, but when his brother seemed to relent and grabbed the headboard, he forgot what it was he was supposed to be mad at. Dean was gonna let him have his way. And yeah, he’d demanded it, but that didn’t mean a part of him hadn’t been sure Dean would steamroll over him and do this his way.

The words ‘thank you’ tried to well up past his lips, but he clamped down on them. They would be joke fodder later, he knew that... he knew Dean, and it so wasn’t happening. But what was happening was this...

Sam peeled Dean’s shirt up and off him, waiting until Dean clasped the headboard again, before lowering himself over his brother. “Don’t move.” He knew he couldn’t fight Dean so he had to count on his honoring his word, but the reminder wouldn’t hurt. He quickly stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes off the side of he bed, and settling back down on over his brother.

He moved his mouth over Dean’s, brushing over it, kissing him lightly, then progressively harder, like he was experimenting. When he felt Dean try to suck his tongue inside his mouth, he lifted his head and frowned. “My turn to play Dean, stop that.”

Pleased at the look of frustration crossing over his brother’s face, and ten times more pleased by the control his brother exhibited... for him... Sam went down on his mouth again. This time he didn’t pull any punches. He crushed their mouths together, kissing him hard, his tongue never stopping, battling Dean’s, exploring every corner until they were both breathless and he pulled up.

His breath was labored. His heart about ready to come out of his chest. He took his time watching his brother intently. He hovered over his mouth, felt his brother surge, but side stepped him and started to kiss his face. Hearing the wood of the bed creak, he looked up and smiled. “Good, you’re actually listening.” Stretching, he kissed up Dean’s arm, feeling his muscles straining under his lips, then moving to the other one. His chest was now over Dean’s face and he lowered himself, shuddering at the feel of Dean’s mouth against him.

He scooted back down. “I thought you’d like to know how you make me feel when you’re holding me, fucking me,” he said, looking Dean straight in the eyes. “Sometimes I can’t breath. Sometimes you won’t let me move. Sometimes you’re so fucking dangerous I think my heart will stop.” He saw something flash in his brother’s eyes, and shook his head. “Like this.”

Dipping his head down, he wrapped his teeth around Dean’s adam’s apple, threatening his air... threatening to bite, but then licking and kissing him before he came back up. “Did your heart go weird? Adrenalin shoot through you? But you knew nothing bad would happen, right? That’s how I feel.”

He used his knees and hands to trap Dean completely, prevent him from moving. “Know what else? I hate that you can do this... that you can easily stop me from moving a muscle. Sometimes I want to shout at you because of it... and then... it’s also what I like best. Like if you didn’t do that, I’d... I’d ask you to. Weird, huh?” Feeling heat climb up his face at the admission, Sam bent down and licked his way down Dean’s throat, scraping his teeth on his chest and laving it better. Maybe he’d said too much, maybe this would all come back and bite him in the ass later.

To distract himself from the sudden uncertainty that filled him, Sam started to play with Dean. He gave it all he had, teasing his flesh, tasting him, touching him just so... reveling in the sounds he made, and always... always, his brother kept his word, kept his hands on the headboard.

It made Sam happy, it told him more about Dean than Dean could ever explain in words. Choking on a laugh, he tortured Dean’s nipple, then moved again, down to his belly, biting him near his belly button and then tonguing him until Dean practically came up off the bed. “Whoa, I’m getting there... hold your horses,” he said, nudging Dean’s boxers down to reveal his fully aroused cock. “This for me, Dean?” He looked up.

Dean raised an eyebrow, wondering just what the hell Sam was getting pissy over now. Call him an ass? No he hadn’t, he’d called him a… then the older man had to fight back the urge to laugh realizing Sam had no idea what the term meant and he now had new material to tease his ‘sheltered’ baby brother with. Later. Because suddenly Sam was looking at him in a way that made all the hilarity die abruptly inside of him, causing heat to rush straight to his cock instead.

Sam’s fingers barely touched him at all when the younger man carefully eased his shirt up off of him but they left a scorching path nonetheless along his skin that prickled in anticipation for more. Dean made a soft impatient sound in the back of his throat when the younger man ordered him again not to move. But when his brother finally pressed his body against him, kissing him softly, a moan of pleasure escaped his lips instead as the kiss slowly deepened.

But it was too slow, not enough, he wanted to taste Sam fully, yet when he tried to pull his brother in deeper, Sam moved away instead, scolding him. A growl of frustration built up in the back of his throat, Dean’s first instinct to grab the back of his brother’s head and force the other man closer. To seal their mouths together, kiss his brother till they could barely breathe, practically fucking the younger man’s mouth with his tongue, but he didn’t.

He’d promised Sam he’d let him control this, and as much as he needed to feel his brother’s flesh beneath his hands, his tongue in his mouth, his cock buried in his ass, he kept his hands locked above him. Though he gripped the headboard just a little bit tighter when Sam gave in and gave him what he wanted. What they both wanted. Groaning in pleasure as they devoured each other like men dying from hunger, so hard his lips ached and they were both left panting breathless when Sam pulled away again.

Dean’s entire body felt feverish with desire, his lips tingling with the caress of the younger man’s breath ghosting across them and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to kiss Sam again. Groaning again in frustration when his brother avoided him, kissing his face, up his arm. His muscles trembling under the soft press of the younger man’s lips, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing and licking the soft skin of Sam’s chest when his brother leaned over him. Tasting his brother’s flesh, nipping lightly at a peaked nipple when it came close, and groaning yet again in frustration when the younger man moved away far too soon.

At this point Dean certainly wasn’t expecting the younger man to want an in depth conversation from him, but being Sam he probably should have. However when Sam called him dangerous Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, guilt and fear flashing though him almost strong enough to make him forget about his arousal. Almost. But Sam didn’t let him. His pulse shooting through the roof when he felt his brother’s teeth at his throat, his cock jumping and leaking all the more as Sam ‘explained’ to him how he made him feel.

He had no idea… or maybe he did, maybe unconsciously… But why was Sam telling him this now? How he liked it when he took control, when Sam had ‘asked’ for control now? He wasn’t sure he fully understood… All he really knew was that Sam had just told him something extremely personal, judging by the deep blush that stained his brother’s cheeks afterwards. Sam didn’t let him think on it for too long however as the younger man proceeded to ‘attack’ him with his lips and tongue. Making Dean moan and squirm beneath his mouth and hands.

“Sam!” He shouted as his brother teased his nipples almost to the point of pain before moving lower. His brother shoving the covers away as Sam moved lower down his body. Arching beneath the younger man, his underwear damp and sticky from his own fluids by this point, and his cock so hard it was painful. Fuck but he needed Sam to quit fucking teasing him! Dean almost growled at his brother when Sam told him to ‘hold his horses’, while his brother friggen tortured him, making him wait. He almost whined when Sam finally peeled his boxers down ever so slowly, freeing his cock. His brother’s mouth so fucking close to where he wanted it…

“Fuck… Sam, please…” Dean begged unashamedly, lifting his hips.

“Sure Dean, anything you want,” Sam’s mouth curved into a smile. He walked his fingers down Dean’s thighs, circling back to his inner thighs, loving how Dean tried to move his body to get him to touch his cock.

Sam curled one finger at a time around Dean’s cock, grasping him lightly, mouth parting as he felt Dean thicken and lengthen in his hand. He weighed and measured Dean, running his thumb up the underside of his cock. It was like satin covered steel, so fucking hard, closing his eyes he groaned at the thought of having Dean inside him... ramming himself so deep...

He licked is lips and bent his head, using his tongue to lap up the clear liquid bead at his tip. “Mmm, more,” he demanded, probing Dean’s slit and running his tongue around his head. Looking up, he gauged Dean’s reactions, his own cock hardening at that dark, hungry look creeping into Dean’s eyes.

Dipping his head down low between Dean’s thighs, Sam swabbed the flat of his tongue up the entire length of Dean’s shaft, moved a fraction over and did it again, and again, slowly moving around the circumference of Dean’s cock. He couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else, not a single person. But he couldn’t imaging not doing this with Dean. Go figure.

The sounds Dean made sent the blood rushing even hotter to Sam’s cock, making him work harder, teasing Dean until he was on the brink of probably grabbing his head and forcing his mouth down over him. “Right here, bro,” he said, letting his breath fan over his brother’s dick before he finally took him in his mouth. Swallowing as much of his as he could, he sucked and pulled up off Dean, leaving his engorged cock wet and shiny.

Moving lower, he licked Dean’s balls, sucking lightly before plunging his mouth down over his cock again and moving up and down his shaft, harder and faster, mercilessly working him until Dean’s hips were snapping up off the mattress. Yes... oh yes... oh fuck yes.

His brother’s frenzied movements were driving Sam to the edge. What would happen if he released Dean from his promise? Would he be rough and show him the depths of his need? Would he growl in his ear, tell him how much he wanted him, would he fuck him within an inch of his life, and pull back only because his protective instincts were just that strong?

As Dean started to stiffen, his balls drawing up, Sam pulled his mouth off with a wet pop. “Don’t come,” he said, on the verge of panic. He crawled up Dean’s body, letting Dean rub his cock into him, into his chest, and stomach, until he was level with his brother.

He kissed him hard, plunging his tongue into Dean’s mouth and stroking him, letting him taste himself. When he raised his head, his eyes were glazed with lust. “I’m done playing, Dean. Please fuck me, like you want to.” His voice was hoarse and unfamiliar. “Fuck me.”

Dean groaned as he felt an insane urge to smack that cocky teasing smile right off his brother's face, at the same time it made his blood boil with lust. The elder man's fingernails digging so deeply into the headboard by now he was bound to leave rents in the soft wood but he hardly gave a damn. Not when he felt like Sam was trying to drive him insane with his almost feather light touches along his hips and cock. His lower body bucking underneath his brother while his arms trembled, somehow, he had no idea how at this point, keeping himself from just grabbing his brother and forcing the younger man's mouth down on him where he wanted it.

He hissed between his teeth, watching with hungry eyes as Sam tasted him slowly. The sight of the younger man's tongue petting and playing with his cock as his brother savored him making him leak profusely and his eyes nearly roll back in his head because as good as it felt it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

"Fuck… Sam…" Dean moaned in frustration, digging his heels into the mattress, his sweat covered thighs trembling, as Sam's tongue continued to paint him with fire that slowly burned away his sanity. All but screaming when his brother took him into his mouth sucking him hard but pulling off him again before Dean could even thrust once into that exquisite wet heat.

"Sam! Fuck, Sam… fuck!" The elder man groaned over and over, the only two words he seemed capable of at the moment, his head thrashing from side to side as Sam laved at his balls and as good as it felt it wasn't what he wanted. Wasn't what he needed. When Sam finally gave it to him, taking him back into his mouth, into his throat, as deeply as he could, Dean's entire body drew taunt with the strain from holding back. To keep from coming immediately as Sam's lips and tongue did positively evil things to his engorged weeping flesh. His body twisting in pleasure beneath his brother, his hips snapping up to fuck himself deeper into the younger man's mouth.

Fuck, he was so close to coming when Sam abruptly pulled his mouth away from him again it was torture and Dean let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Making a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl when Sam slid up the length of his body and Dean couldn't stop himself from rubbing his aching arousal against his brother but that wasn't the way he wanted to come. The kiss he returned to his brother almost as punishing as it was loving and needy for Sam leaving him like this.

But then his brother was begging Dean, begging him for what they both wanted so badly, to fuck him, and whatever control the elder man had snapped in an instant. With a growl Dean grasped his brother by the hips and rolled them both over, pinning Sam beneath him as he devoured the younger man's mouth. Surely bruising his brother's lips with the kiss but he didn't give a damn. Only one thought, one need, to be inside his lover, controlling him, loving him, making Sam his.

But then, almost against his will, he remembered before, how much he'd hurt Sam the first time, and that kept him from doing what every base need in him screamed, just plunging into his brother's body and fucking him with abandonment. Instead grasping himself around the base of his cock with a hiss, trying to hold off his orgasm and groaning in frustration as he pulled away from Sam's lips and body.

"Don't. Fucking. Move." Dean growled the order in such a way that promised dire consequences if Sam disobeyed him as he pushed himself up off of his brother's body completely. Practically limping towards the bathroom to get what he needed where he'd seen it before. That little complimentary basket of shit all motels seemed to have, soap, shampoo, and this time, hand lotion. It was better than nothing.

Dean quickly returned to the bedroom, groaning and biting his lip as he stared down at Sam lying there waiting for him. So fucking beautiful and already looking fucked out as Dean climbed back onto the bed. With another soft growl he grasped his brother's shorts and literally ripped them off the younger man's legs before situating himself between them. Pulling them apart and forcing the younger man's knees practically to his chest. Licking his lips hungrily as he stared at his brother so beautiful and open for him. Just begging to be fucked.

"Don't move." Dean repeated, snapping the bottle of lotion open with his teeth and coating his fingers. Not even bothering to warm it up first before slipping them between his brother's cheeks. Coating the younger man's quivering hot hole with a groan before plunging two deeply into the younger man in one smooth motion.

The instant his plea to be fucked left his mouth, Sam felt hard hands grip his hips and their positions were reversed faster than he could blink. He couldn’t even get his brother’s name past his lips since Dean’s tongue shot deep inside his mouth.

Sam’s head spun. His world tilted as Dean dominated him, using his weight to keep him still, his legs bracketed around his thighs, his cock aggressively lined up against Sam’s hole, his tongue fucking... owning him. Yes, oh yes, Sam wildly lifted his hips, rubbing his aching cock up against Dean, pleading wordlessly to be fucked.

Then Dean was ordering him not to move and Sam thought it was payback, or something. No, you can’t fucking leave me like this. He stared wide eyed as Dean strode away, clearly aroused. How could he? How could he walk away? Sam wanted to follow him, to force him to turn around, to make him give them what they both needed. If it hadn’t been for that warning tone, he’d have acted on his instincts.

Then Dean was coming back and he had something in his hand. Head slightly back, Sam was still panting out his breaths through parted lips, devouring Dean with his eyes... begging him to stop fucking around. Then Dean was standing near him, his eyes so fucking hungry, Sam could barely breath. A lifetime passed. A low moan broke from him.

Then Dean was moving so fast, Sam could barely track him. Dean’s impatient growl as he tore his boxers off had him smiling, but he was damned startled to find his legs spread and his knees effortlessly forced to his chest. Too exposed. Too vulnerable, he started to change his position until Dean ordered him again not to move. Whimpering in protest, suddenly he found his hole being teased.

“Dean!” He lifted his hips slightly as Dean’s fingers invaded him, touched him from the inside. Between his legs, he could see Dean’s face, the intensity of the heat in his eyes was scorching. His fingers slid in and out of him, pushing the wet lotion inside, preparing him for what he wanted.

Just the thought of Dean inside him, stretching him with his thick cock, plunging into him, had Sam groaning again. He reached for Dean’s shoulders, trying to pull him up, but his brother wasn’t having it. His hand wandered down to his leaking cock and he started to stroke himself, watching Dean through hazel eyes filled with need and a hint of impatience. He started to lift his hips up each time Dean’s fingers went deeper, and stroked himself harder, but it wasn’t what he wanted... he fucking wanted Dean inside him.

“Stop fucking around. Dean, fuck me. Need to feel you inside me,” he half cried, half demanded. “Come on, Dean. Fuck me.”

“So fucking hot, Sam…” Dean groaned deeply in his chest, licking his lips as he watched the movement of the younger man’s fingers playing over his shaft while the elder man’s fingers were buried deeply in his brother’s ass. Sam looked like he belonged in an obscene porno the way he jacked himself off, writhing and trying to fuck himself on his fingers as they thrust in and out of his body. The sounds Sam made while his fingers were circling and scissoring inside of him, preparing his brother for his cock. The younger man begging, no demanding that Dean fuck him right now.

Fuck, but Sam was going to make him blow his load without ever being inside of him.

With a sound of almost impatience Dean grasped the wrist of the hand his brother was using to play with himself and pulled his hand almost roughly away. Pinning it above his head as he leaned over the younger man, thrusting his fingers a little more roughly inside his tight hole.

“I told you not to move.” Dean whispered, teasing, even though he was just as impatient as his brother to be inside of the younger man but he was determined to do it right this time. To not hurt his brother like he had before not preparing him well enough, so Dean forced himself to wait no matter how much it tortured them both as he slid a third finger into the younger man’s tight body. Leaning in to kiss his brother hard, thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth at the same pace he thrust his fingers into his body.

By the time he drew back, panting, pulling his fingers out of his brother’s body, and used more lotion to slick up his aching cock the wait was near driving him insane. He’d held back for as long as he possibly could and Dean wasted no more time positioning himself at the younger man’s slick quivering hole. Biting his lip as he plunged past any resistance into his brother with a fierce snap of his hips, barely waiting for Sam to adjust to the intrusion before he started to fuck the younger man hard and deep.

The force with which Dean grasped his wrist and prevented him from jacking off against his wishes sent a new surge of heat directly to Sam's cock. Groaning, he lifted his hips uselessly... meeting only air as his brother trapped his hand above his head.

“Please... Dean please...” he was almost feverish with need as he fucked himself against Dean’s fingers, his pleas were cut off when Dean shut him up with his mouth. Hot didn’t cover it, didn’t cover how it felt to be finger banged and tongue banged, unable to move, to ask for more, and barely able to breathe.

He mentally screamed for more, his free hand grabbing at Dean’s back, trying to pull him closer, to urge him to give him what he needed. So strong, Dean was so fucking strong, he couldn’t budge him. The assault on his senses went on and on until he thought he might cry or something, and then Dean was off him.

“Don’t stop, Dean, I need...” Then he felt Dean line up with his hole, wet and slick, his cock insistently pressed against his hole. “Yes, please.” Seeing his brother bite his lower lip, Sam emulated him, his head jerking back as Dean rammed his dick all the way inside. Despite the flash of blinding pain, Sam took satisfaction in seeing Dean couldn’t wait... that he needed to fuck as much as Sam did.

Finally. Finally Dean was inside him, stretching him, branding him from the inside. A little pain was nothing compared to the pleasure he got watching his brother’s face, seeing his eyes darken with hunger, or from the waves of intense heat washing over him each time Dean’s cock hit him just right.

Raising his legs, he locked them around Dean’s waist, lifting his ass up, and dragging his knees up, forcing Dean closer even as he submitted to him in every way possible. “So good, Dean so damned good,” he panted, his fingers biting into Dean’s shoulders. He thought neither of them would last long... he was wrong. They were both covered with a sheen of sweat, their breaths labored, his own muscles strained, and yet he was urging his brother to keep driving into him.

“God... oh Dean...” He could feel himself get close and his moans grew more urgent. “Tell me what it feels like,” he begged, eyes locking with Dean’s, knowing he was about to go over the edge.

The sounds of hot feverish skin slapping together, the straining creaks the bed underneath them made, their grunts, groans, and moans of pleasure filling the room were the most obscene things Dean had ever heard in his life and he fucking loved every second of it. He hoped the people in the next room were getting off on it as much as he was because he didn’t give a damn who heard them right now.

This was what he’d wanted. This was what he’d needed. Sam underneath him, whimpering and clinging to him as he fucked his baby brother through the mattress. Driving deep into the younger man’s body with every eager thrust of his hips. Grasping his brother’s hips tightly as Sam’s fingers clutched at his shoulder. Lifting the younger man higher so he could plunge even deeper into him again and again. Groaning in pleasure, knowing he was hitting his brother’s sweet spot every time the younger man’s muscles spasmed around his cock tighter. Fucking. Claiming. Owning.

“Sam… god, Sammy…” Dean panted his brother’s, his lover’s, name over and over. Sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eyes, down his neck, back, and chest from the exertion. He was hot, so fucking hot he was burning up inside and he didn’t care. Sam was hotter. So damn hot and tight around his dick and he never wanted to leave that heat. Never wanted to leave Sam’s body. Locked together so intimately. He never wanted to leave this moment.

“So good, so good, baby brother. Perfect.” Dean whispered, panting even harder at his brother’s request. Feeling the younger man’s body tightening even more around him he knew Sam was about to go over the edge and he was right there with him. With a groan he snapped his hips just a little harder, a little faster, making sure to hit the center of his brother’s pleasure with every deep stroke of his dick. “You’re so damn hot. So damn tight. Feels so good around my cock, baby. Want you to come. Come for me, Sammy. Lemme watch you.”

Sam knew he’d left ‘normal’ behind long ago, but when his heart lurched at being called ‘baby brother’ in the heat of sex, he knew he must have crossed over to deviant. He’d liked it... his entire body had responded, tightening, clenching around Dean’s cock, and around his waist.

Dean was fucking him so hard, whispering to him, and talking dirty until Sam didn’t know whether he was coming or going. Then Dean asked him to come, and Sam wanted to so bad, so bad, but when Dean added he wanted to ‘watch,’ a sense of apprehension washed over Sam. No one looked good when they were... and yet Dean was looking down at him, like he was the only thing important to him right now. If he hadn’t said that, Sam would have had no qualms.

They came together a couple more times, hard. Still Dean was searching his face, waiting. Sam would just have to trust him. Nodding, he let go. His mouth parted as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Dean... oh fuck... Dean...” He started to thrash and shimmy against Dean, growing wild with abandon. Cries broke from the back of his throat, and he couldn’t stop them. Feverish and incoherent, he whipped one arm across his face, using his forearm to muffle his shout of pleasure as he came hot and hard, his seed spreading across his stomach and Dean’s. Eyes rolled back slightly, he held his breath, waiting for Dean’s release.

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean groaned deeply when he felt his brother tighten around him, so much it almost hurt, but felt better than anything he’d ever felt before in his life. Feeling his little brother so hot and clinging around him. Sam was so damned beautiful when he was out of control with pleasure. His body shaking, moaning incoherently, so wild. Wild like him…

“Yes, Sammy. That’s it. That’s it…” He encouraged, running his palms up and down the younger man’s sweat slicked body. Gasping as Sam clenched around his cock impossibly tight, his brother’s expression almost of pain as the younger man shot thick ropes of spunk across his stomach and chest. Covering his mouth to muffle his cries of pleasure but Dean was having none of it.

“Don’t.” He hissed, grabbing both of his brother’s wrists and pinned them above his head. It was so fucking hot watching Sam come Dean could only manage to thrust hard and deep into his brother one last time before he came as well, shouting Sam’s name as he filled the younger man up with his seed. His body convulsing like he was having a seizure, shaking and moaning. His arms holding other man’s the only thing that kept him from simply collapsing spent on top of his brother.

“Oh fuck, Sam…” Dean panted, feeling like all the strength had just been sucked right out of him when he came. If he didn’t know better he might have suspected his brother for being a succubus, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he pressed his lips to the younger man’s chest, his neck, licking his brother’s lips before kissing his brother with a deep groan of satisfaction.

Sam only made a single sound of protest when he found his arms pinned above his head and was unable to use it to stifle the loud moans that accompanied his climax. The sheer command in Dean's voice was enough to keep him from fighting or finding another way to quiet down.

It was his turn to watch his brother and by the almost vicious strength he applied around his wrists as he came deep and hard inside Sam, Sam couldn't doubt that Dean's release had been as soul shattering. As Dean spasmed, Sam kept lifting his hips, kept up the pressure until they both ran out of strength.

As Dean's mouth made its way back to his, Sam made a little sound, putting his freed arms around his brother's shoulders. Pulling on him. Stroking him like he could never get enough. He chased Dean's teasing tongue, meeting it with his, and then drew back as Dean's tongue invaded his mouth

He gave Dean an answering groan of his own as their tongues tangled, their bodies still in motion though barely moving. When their lips separated, Sam smiled. "What are you laughing at? Or maybe I shouldn't ask." Deliberately, he lifted his hips again, one last time before he unlocked his legs and finally lowered them to the bed.

Once Dean eased out of him, he clenched his ass, testing. Yeah... he'd feel Dean for a while, but it wasn't like the last time, he didn't hurt like that. "We're gonna be thrown out of here. The neighbor's are gonna complain. Oh God, maybe we can get another room, where they won't know its us," he babbled, trying to come to grips with the intensity of their experience. It had made him forget everything. No, not it, Dean had made him forget.

Running his hand up Dean's shoulder and cupping his neck, he pulled him down so he could speak in his ear. "You were right yesterday. It's not just sex." Closing his eyes, afraid to bare more of his soul, he rolled them to their side. "You don't have to say anything, Dean. I know." Again he smiled as he let Dean off the hook on what could have been a chick flick moment.

Dean merely smiled when his brother asked him what he was laughing at, and then quickly went on to deny he wanted to know. The elder man chuckled again softly, shaking his head, wisely deciding to keep his thoughts to himself if he wanted to get laid again anytime soon.

He moaned softly when his brother lifted his hips one last time, sending an aftershock of pleasure though him that made his body tremble before he gently pulled out of the younger man with a sigh. Missing the tight warmth of his brother’s body already but he knew Sam had to be sore, the way Dean had fucked him so hard, and he didn’t want to add to that discomfort.

Dean almost asked his brother if he was all right, when Sam went on to babble about how loud they’d been and he knew the younger man couldn’t be in too much pain or he wouldn’t be bitching this soon. But before he could tease his brother about being overly paranoid, and it’s not like the motel probably hadn’t had its share of loud kinky sex couples, probably some of their best clientele.

Then Sammy was pulling him close, whispering into his ear, and the younger man’s words left him feeling weak and all fluttery inside like some kind of chick. He didn’t know what to say and was glad that his brother apparently didn’t expect him to say anything. He just returned the younger man’s smile, gathering Sam in his arms and kissed him softly.

Settling next to his brother for what he expected to be a nice after sex nap, Dean closed his eyes. Running his fingers through the younger man’s hair, down his back, over his buttocks. Touching Sam everywhere lovingly and possessively.

“Love you too, Sammy.” Dean whispered barely more than a breath before he drifted off into an easy slumber with his brother next to him.

He really hadn’t expected Dean to respond, but when his brother did, Sam’s smile broadened. He laid there for another few minutes, catching his breath and getting his heart rate back under control. Guess he didn’t need that run, after all.

“You wanna take a shower and grab food? Dean?” Sam opened his eyes and lifted up, “Dean? Dude you fell asleep on me… that’s so not cool.” Yeah, like he hadn’t done that before only to have his girlfriend complain. Now he understood, kinda sorta.

He rolled out of bed and hesitated, before going ahead and getting a wet cloth to clean Dean up. If he woke up, great, and if he didn’t… that was fine. To his surprise, Dean didn’t wake, but only muttered his protests. Shaking his head, Sam covered him up and headed for the bathroom.

He took a pretty long shower, letting the hot water relax him. All the while, he half expected Dean would come in and join him.

When he was through, he got dressed and said Dean’s name again. His brother was still asleep. “Dean, I gotta go get a sandwhich, okay?” No answer. Again shaking his head, he wrote a large note so Dean wouldn’t freak out, and left it on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, he was back with sandwhiches and a couple bottles of water. Sure Dean would prefer if he brought beers, but he wasn’t about to be away from Dean for longer than he absolutely needed to. This morning and the things he’d said about being afraid of being left alone were wake up calls, and Sam wasn’t about to ignore them.

“Dean?” Quirking his brow, Sam waved the pastrami sandwich under Dean’s nose. “Don’t tell me I fucking killed you with sex.” Putting the food down, he shook Dean’s shoulder, and frowned. Moving his hand to Dean’s forehead, his frown deepened. “Dean, dude you’re burning hot. Wake up.” Opening one of the bottles of water, he sat on the bed and shook Dean again. “Dean!”

Dean groaned at the rough shaking, and his brother’s voice shouting at him.

What the hell? He was tired, damn it. Why couldn’t Sam just let him sleep? He forced his eyes open, not that his brother was giving him much choice to do otherwise, even still it was quite an effort to keep them open. Dean frowned when he managed to finally focus on the younger man’s worried face.

What was wrong? Had something happened?

“What?” Dean asked, trying to push himself up a little only to fall back weakly against the bed. What the hell? His head was spinning.

He could smell food, and his stomach clenched almost as though rebelling at the simple thought of eating. Dean closed his eyes again and fought back the feelings of nausea.

He was hot. He could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck and along his chest. His blood felt like it was burning his veins as it passed through them, pumped by a heart that was beating too fast.

“I don’t feel right.” Dean groaned, and maybe he was even sicker than he thought for stupidly stating the obvious.

"You're burning up. Here, have some water," Sam answered, forcing the bottle into Dean's hand and making him sit up a little. Pulling the sheet down his brother's body, he confirmed what he already knew, that the werewolf bite on his thigh was healed. There were no other recent wounds that might be infected.

"Earlier, did you cut yourself on anything? Iron?" He'd seen the claw marks in Dean's palms, that's where the blood was from as far as he knew, but maybe there was more? "Either something like that, or you're getting sick." Considering his brother's newly gained powers of healing, that seemed very odd. Unless it was part of the changing into a wolf cycle, which wasn't a theory he was going to put out there.

He touched Dean's forehead again. "You should take a cool shower to bring your temperature down." The way Dean had flopped down, Sam wasn't sure how bad he was feeling and whether he could stand. "I'll help."

Dean nodded, and then groaned again, immediately regretting the movement. Allowing Sam to help him sit up and taking the offered water. Sipping it slowly, afraid if he drank too fast the nausea he felt would just make the water come back up again and he didn’t feel like puking again today.

Fuck. What the hell? He’d been feeling fine just a little while ago. Well, maybe not completely fine. Maybe he’d had a bit of a fever, but nothing like this.

“No.” He answered his brother’s question of whether he’d cut himself on anything earlier, shaking his head and cursing under his breath. Fuck, he had to stop doing that. Maybe when he’d puked earlier it hadn’t just been because he’d freaked out? Maybe he really was getting sick? Maybe he had food poisoning or something.

God damn it, that was all they needed right now.

“Yeah, ok.” Dean agreed, this time remembering not to nod, to his brother’s suggestion of taking a cold shower, but the prospect of moving right now wasn’t sounding all that pleasant. He was proved right when he tried to push himself more upright again and swayed, and if he hadn’t grabbed onto his brother when he had he probably would have ended up on the floor.

“Fuck…” He gasped.

Sam bore Dean’s weight and helped him back onto the bed, looking worriedly at him. “I knew, I knew you were too hot.” The fact his brother didn’t make a crack about that told him a lot. “Okay, relax,” he arranged the pillows so Dean could half sit up.

A few minutes later, he was applying cool compresses to Dean’s forehead, neck and chest, despite his brother’s grumbling. “Have I mentioned you make the worst patient,” he huffed. He hoped it wouldn’t get as bad as when Dean first got away from the werewolves. They’d had a damned rough night, with his temperature creeping up and scaring the shit out of Sam.

When he’d done the best he could, Sam started to pace the length of the room, the sandwiches now forgotten. The inclination to take Dean to see a doctor was strong, but what if the doc detected something was off and wanted blood tests? It would all be over, the secrecy. No, he had to take care of Dean on his own.

After he had him take a couple of Tylenol, he watched as his brother’s heavy lidded eyes strove to stay open. “Maybe you should sleep some more.”

Dean allowed his brother to settle him back into bed without complaint or insistence he could do it himself which said a lot because even if he couldn’t normally he’d at least make a show of trying. If only so Sam wouldn’t worry so damn much. Instead all he could manage was a soft groan as Sam rearranged him carefully back into bed.

He barely managed only a few halfhearted protests to his brother’s pampering, more out of the fact that he hated that scared look in his brother’s eyes as the younger man tended to him willing to replace it with anything else, even annoyance. At least it worked to a degree, Dean huffing a small laugh at the other man’s complaint about him being a bad patient. Not like Sam himself wasn’t a worse one.

Dean watched his brother’s worried pacing, though it was difficult by this point to even keep his eyes open. He swallowed the pills the younger man gave him and gave a slight nod of agreement when Sam suggested he sleep. He took the younger man’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“You should eat, and don’t look so damned worried. Just caught a stupid bug, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay.” He said that but it was hard to shrug it off. Crossing over to dad’s bed, he sat down and dry washed his face. What if it got worse? Should he be calling his dad right now? And what if his dad turned around and got back, and then Dean was all better? Then they’d have wasted precious time.

Feeling Dean’s eyes and seeing his struggle to keep awake, he snapped out an order. “Sleep. You need it.”

Over the next few hours, Sam tried to remain quiet, mostly working on research, and making a couple of call from just outside their door. Yeah, he knew now that Dean’s hearing could pick up everything he said even out there, but his goal was to try not to disturb him, and if he was asleep, volume counted for something.

He checked Dean’s temperature every so often, shaking his head at the fact that it wasn’t going down. At all. He’d already stripped the bed of blankets, and put only a wet sheet over Dean in an attempt to cool him. Their room had no air conditioner, just a heater, but he had the window open slightly and it was crisp out there.

It was dinner time by the time he remembered to eat. After he ate his now cold sandwich and chugged down some water, he ran a cool bath and went to wake Dean up. “Dean, wake up. I need to get you to the bathroom, and you need to drink and eat something. Dean.” He tried to lift his brother up as he shook him awake. “Come on man, you’re still burning up. I think we gotta get you into the tub.”