It was a freaking octopus. The damned thing had freaking tendrils going everywhere. Sam struggled to keep it under control but it seemed like the harder he tried, the more tendrils the dark powers grew. Frustration and anger began to wind themselves around him and as the anger and frustration grew, his control over his powers seemed to improve. A part of his mind latched on to that. Anger helps his control it. He had plenty of anger inside him. Old anger, new anger, unremembered anger burrowing its way to the surface. He was still having trouble though even with extracting that extra anger viciously from deep inside. He was becoming pissed, infuriated. God dammit he could do this!

The arms wrapping around his waist startled him. He felt the warm body press against him even as he felt the net draped over his writhing uncontrollable powers. Part of him cried no! and wanted to push that body away so he could continue to work with these powers. The venomous tendrils began to focus inward, ready to backlash on Sam as he wavered with indecision.

He felt the threat and didn't know how to stop it. It seemed if he tried to grab the reins, the power just side stepped him, coiling like a viper ready to strike. He felt the fear begin inside of him. He was going to get them both killed. His stupidity, his lack of control, his weakness was going to get them killed. The fear just seemed to make the powers grow stronger and he felt some of those tendrils begin to dig into him, try to envelope him. Each touch from those tentacles ignited pain and anger inside him.

Sam wrapped his hands around Dean's forearms, gripping them so tightly his knuckles were white and he was surely leaving bruises. His fear growing, Sam whispered to his brother, "What do I do? How do I stop it?"

They had been at it for nearly an hour now.

Back down in the basement in Bobby’s panic room, this time with the door to the room firmly closed and locked, Dean was giving Sam his first real lesson in controlling his powers. He’d left the old hunter upstairs with a warning not to come downstairs or disturb them in any other way no matter what he might hear because Dean couldn’t guarantee his safety otherwise. The thick iron walls of the room lined with protective spells should be enough to contain the flares of his brother’s uncontrollable power, but beyond that Dean couldn’t guarantee anything if the older man actually came inside the room at the wrong time. Especially because Sam was doing about as well as Dean had his first time trying to call upon his powers by will instead of instinct.

Which unfortunately was not very good at all.

Sam’s powers answered to his call very quickly, which was both a good and bad thing, because when they answered they it was usually with much more power than his brother could handle at one time. Like right now.

The tendrils of dark energy radiating from the younger man practically encased the entire room at this point. Dean walked around Sam, who was kneeling in the center of the room on the air mattress, untouched, while everything else in the room that wasn’t bolted down vibrated and shook violently. Unfortunately Dean had only asked Sam to try to make the book he’d placed on the floor in front of the younger man rise up a few inches. It had rose all right, straight up into the rotating fan above their heads. The ripped pages were still fluttering down and swirling around the room.

Dean could feel his brother’s frustration growing as he tried to regain control of the power on his own. He could feel his growing anger. The power obeying him about as well as a rabid dog growling and ready to strike back at his owner. He could feel his brother beginning to pull from that anger trying to force his power into submission, instead only feeding it, making it stronger, and that’s when Dean intervened.

He knelt down behind the younger man, wrapping his arms tightly around Sam’s waist. Using his physical body to help ground Sam as he wrapped his own power around the younger man’s much as he’d done the first time Sam had lost control back at the church. He could feel Sam’s fear now and he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of the younger man’s sweat slick neck, whispering into his ear.

“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you. Nothing is going to hurt you.” Dean reassured, keeping his voice calm and even, not caring in the least the way his brother’s fingers bit into the flesh of his arms, especially if it helped the younger man focus upon him. “Close your eyes. Relax. Breathe with me. You can feel my heart, my breath. Focus on that. Remember, you are the master, not the power. It can’t do what you don’t want. Slowly, ease it back. Visualize it as a ball of string. You’re winding it up slowly. You might drop the ball but you can always pick it back up. Pull it back in. One tendril at a time. I won’t let it hurt you.”

Don't be afraid? Fuck. His powers were an angry beast ready rip him apart. Dean's calm words and light kiss to his neck made him slow down his breathing. He leaned back into those protective arms and tried to do as Dean told him to. He could tell Dean was keeping Sam's powers leashed, but he wasn't at all sure Dean could stop the powers from backlashing against them. When he had wielded them previously, they were sloppy, poorly aimed, but he never felt like they were going to…devour him. They were a big fucking club that he swung, not a bomb ready to go off, as they seemed to be now. He was just trying to lift the book. He had not known how much power it would take to do that so he popped the lid open, thinking only as much as he needed would come at his call. Instead of a squirt gun, he had a fucking water cannon and it was swinging about wildly, with Dean's firm grip on him the only reason it wasn't simply dragging Sam with it.

He closed his eyes as Dean instructed but the relaxing part wasn't easy. He struggled to get his breathing as slow as his brother's, felt the soft thump of Dean's heart against his back. He was the master. Yeah. Sure.

Focus. Master. He could master it. He could control it. Without him, it didn't even exist. He wasn't really sure how to ease it back when it was like a pissed off cat. Claws freaking everywhere. …String. Yeah, a zillion cans of silly string. That old cartoon of the scribble trying to woo the dot. The doodle was nothing but a big knot of lines. But it learned control. For love, it learned control. For Dean, to save Dean, he would learn control. Doggedly he grabbed a tendril and pulled it in, stuffing it back into the genie bottle. He grabbed another and felt it practically slam into him, making his head ring painfully. He felt Dean fight with it, struggle to hold it from attacking Sam. All it had really done was piss Sam off. A lot. He imagined a vacuum, a whirlpool, sucking all the darkness back into the bottle. He was really pissed. His head hurt god dammit and he had let it do it. He felt his power flare brightly, but this time he had it by the throat and dragged it back inside of himself, Dean helping to keep it contained. The anger had certainly increased the power's strength, but with Dean's aid, he was finally able to put the cork back in place.

Panting, sweat poring off him, Sam collapsed against his brother. He needed aspirin. A whole bottle probably wasn't enough. He groaned and put his hand to his temple.

"That fucking hurt," Sam complained. "And that was just one tendril that smacked me."

Looking up at his brother, fear coloring his face, he asked softly, "I'm scary powerful, aren't I?"

Dean felt Sam begin to do as he said. He felt the younger man trying to relax. He heard the change in his brother’s breathing. He knew when his brother began trying to pull the power back into himself the way he had told Sam. And he felt the darkness retaliate and try to attack Sam instead of obey him.

He wrapped his own powers even tighter around them both, protecting Sam and himself, keeping the explosion of raw energy from turning inwards against the younger man. He felt his own powers try to break free of his control, reacting to Sam’s lack of control and trying to fight him as Sam’s power fought, but he had trained too hard and too long for him to lose his grip on them.

It hurt, trying to control his own powers as well as Sam’s. Dean’s head throbbed, he felt blood dripping from his nose, tasted it in the back of his throat, but he refused to let any harm come to his brother. Unfortunately this was all too common, when the powers first began manifesting. Dean remembered the pain well of the dark power trying to rip him up from the inside as much as it tried to lash out at everything else. It could be painful, it could even kill, Dean had seen it happen more than once, and Sam was so powerful…

No, he would not let it harm the younger man. Dean would let it turn against him before he let it destroy his brother. Sam would learn control. He would help him. Together he would teach his brother how to master it.

Dean felt Sam’s anger beginning to rise again but instead of fueling the power to even greater proportion he felt the younger man successfully beginning to pull it back inside him. Locking it away once more faster than he had expected. When Sam had finally forced his powers back to their dormant state he tightened his arms around the younger man when his brother collapsed back against him. Supporting Sam even though he was nearly as exhausted as his brother was. Perhaps not one of their “best” lessons, but Sam had done it.

He pressed soft comforting kisses to his brother’s neck, drawing back only enough to look into Sam’s eyes when Sam asked his question. Dean couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes. I told you before, I’ve never seen anyone with as much power as you possess. It will take time, but you will master it. You did well. You have better control than I did when I first began learning.” Dean said, and it was not hollow praise, he meant every word.

"Well, I know I scare the hell out of me," Sam said as he arched his neck into those kisses. "If this was doing well, then I'd hate to see doing badly. And I've got a lot more years on you from when you started training."

Sam turned his head and nudged Dean. He smiled when Dean's lips moved to his own. He was too strung out for any deep passionate kisses, but he wanted that little extra physical connection with his brother. He tugged Dean down with him onto the mattress. He was too tired to undress, hell, he was even too tired to get up to piss. He needed to sleep a couple hours. Between coming three times, a big dinner, and then the eternity spent training and doing about a good as a kindergartner trying to do calculus when he could only count to ten, he was tired.

He pulled away from their kiss and stared at Dean. "Thank you. For your help, for your support, for keeping me safe. You know I would give you anything you asked for if it were in my power to give. Anything."

Kissing Dean again he pulled Dean closer to him and draped his arm over his brother. This felt so right and so good. "You're beautiful," Sam murmured as his eyes grew heavy and he laid his head down on the mattress. Almost instantly Sam drifted off into sleep.

Dean didn’t point out that because Sam was older his powers were also stronger than his had been as a child. He had been younger and weaker. It would have been “easier” for Sam to have learned all of this when he was still young, but it was no use thinking of this way. He also decided not to tell Sam that doing “badly” usually meant death. He did not want to frighten Sam, besides, Dean wasn’t going to let that happen.

When the younger man turned his head begging for a kiss, Dean didn’t hesitate giving it to him, slow, gentle, and calming. Dean could tell his brother was more than exhausted, in truth Sam had been exhausted before they had even begun, and that could have made things better or worse. Dean wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter now.

He smiled gently at Sam’s words. They made him feel warm inside even though he didn’t really know how to respond. It didn’t seem like Sam expected one from him however and Dean was glad for that as Sam kissed him and then snuggled up against him, obviously preparing for sleep.

Dean held him close, running a hand tenderly through the younger man’s sweat slick hair and down his neck and back. He waited until he was sure Sam was fully asleep and wouldn’t be waking up any time soon before he carefully untangled himself from the younger man, tucking the blanket carefully around him before he got up.

He was beyond exhausted as well from struggling against Sam’s power but he had to do something before he could join Sam in sleep. Stepping over the scattered papers Dean walked over to the panic room door, unlocked it, and opened it. Casting one glance over his shoulder at the sleeping Sam before he headed up the basement stairs.

The radio was no longer on upstairs but there was still a light on in the study, Dean did not head that way however or even look inside. Dean headed towards the front door, he opened it and went outside. It was near pitch black, only a few stars blinking through the small gaps in the clouds overhead. Dean stretched out with his powers, not enough to rouse any kind of suspicion but just enough to see if the room downstairs had done its job and contained the bonfire that was Sam’s display of power. Dean could not sense anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity but he knew that would not stop him from checking every hour or so just to make sure. He did not plan on sleeping tonight.

Dean went back inside and headed back down to the basement however, back to the room where Sam slept and laid down with the younger man, curling himself protectively around his brother.

“I would do anything for you.” Dean whispered, barely more than a breath into the younger man’s ear.

The sound of the footsteps coming from the basement stairs nudged him awake. This was the sixth time. Every hour, like clockwork. Bobby wiped the drool off his chin and off the mat on the desk. He'd stopped drinking some eight or so hours ago. He never got bad hangovers. He knew enough to keep water in him right along side the alcohol. Made him piss a lot, but kept the hangovers to a minimum. He pushed himself up from the desk stiffly. Morning wasn't far off and he was used to getting up early. Stretching, he listened as his old joints sounded like Rice Crispies: snap crackle pop. He really should have dragged himself into his bedroom but he hadn't felt like climbing the stairs and maybe just a little bit because he wanted to listen for the boys and make sure they were all right. Bobby didn't doubt Dean when he told him to stay out while they were training, that it was dangerous to interrupt. He didn't figure Dean had any deep evil secrets he was training Sam in that he was trying to hide from Bobby. After the incident in the car, he knew the boy didn't think enough of Bobby to care. He had warned Bobby because Sam cared about Bobby. The kid didn't give a shit if Bobby lived or died. The boy only cared about Sam. There was utter love, utter… devotion, in the looks he gave Sam.

And Sam didn't get it. Bobby practically snorted as he walked into the kitchen, scratching at the stubble on his chin. Sam didn't get it at all.

Looking around the kitchen Bobby was impressed. Sam always did a good job of cleaning the kitchen and it usually ended up far cleaner than it was any other time. Bobby got the coffee going and started rifling through the fridge. Sugar was a bad idea so no waffles. Biscuits and sausage and gravy. That would work. A good breakfast to soothe his mildly aching skull. He popped open the aspirin bottle in the cabinet and popped two of them to hopefully ake that final edge off.

He heard Dean come back into the house. "Dean, would you join me for a few minutes?" Bobby said.

Bobby slid a mug under the draining coffee and when it was full, put the glass pot back on the burner, drops of coffee hissing on the hot plate. He poured half the coffee into a mug and set it on the table for Dean. He began putting ingredients in a bowl to make biscuits.

"Have a seat," Bobby said, jerking his head toward the kitchen table. "That coffee's for you. It's a bit on the strong side. Sugar's on the table and milk's right here, if you want it, but I don't imagine you care. I'm guessing you probably ain't too picky about your food but you gotta learn that you ain't gotta drink or eat anythin' that don't taste good. Well, guess you don't gotta, but you might find you like to."

Bobby didn't bother to measure. He made the batter just like his momma taught him: a pinch of this, a handful of that, a dollop of the other.

When it was stirred up good he rinsed his hands and sighing, Bobby turned, leaning against the counter and met Dean's steady if tired gaze. "Sam don't understand, he doesn't get it." He took a swig of his coffee. Crap, that was strong. Reaching behind him he grabbed the milk jug and poured a splash into the mug to ease the coffee's bite. "I don't rightly know if you should tell him. Not my call, but you go up against the one who was your master before, it would probably be best if Sammy don't hear it from him that Sammy's your new master. It'll shock Sammy, give that demon that fraction of an edge. He ain't gonna like it, he ain't gonna understand it. He's read about demons but he don't understand their ways. Not saying I know a lot, but I understand enough to know you've pledged your allegiance to Sam and renounced your allegiance to your demon master. Sammy won't get the the full-on reasons of why your daddy will be so pissed-off. Not gonna understand it's not just you're standing beside Sam, but that you're serving him and he'll want you to consider yourself as free. He won't understand you don't know how to be anything but a slave and that being free, you just don't know how to be that. He's gonna fight that concept tooth and nail. If you want, I'll try to explain it to him, but he's as stubborn as his daddy. As stubborn as you seem to be."

After putting a bit of bacon grease in the skillet Bobby tossed some crumbled sausage into the pan to cook. "Now I'm a guessing your demon daddy owns your soul. Had you declare it his and you were told what a good boy you was for selling it to him, cause either you didn't understand really, or 'cause you wanted to please him. Don't know that Sammy will get that either. Don't think Sam's naïve, he just prefers to ignore or get angry at anything he don't want to acknowledge. Like the fact you tore his and your daddy to near pieces. That you ain't changed into a loving righteous man. You're still the mean bastard we went up against who sicced his pets on us. I ain't forgettin' but I know Sammy loves you. I'm givin' you consideration and treating you like a guest 'stead of an enemy 'cause that's what Sammy wants and he needs you. I'm a guessin' I'm still alive for much the same reasons. That's what Sammy wants and he needs me. Don't imagine you even know what a friend is, don't imagine you even give a shit, but there might come a time you do. When you do, if you do, I'm not going to turn you away. I'm willing to try to consider you a friend. Until then, working associates will do. You don't try to kill me, I don't try to kill you, and we both keep Sam happy."

Bobby raked his hand down his face. "You may already know how to do it, unless the masters don't share. I been reading through those books Jim gave me. If I'm reading one of 'em right, it tells how to transfer ownership of a soul from one master to another. I imagine this is one of the worst crimes a demon can do but it seems like the demon that had Jim didn't cotton to following the rules overly much if those books are any indication. Fact is, I think the demon was a fallen angel, not a bastardized human. I figur' only the Old Ones could actually get away with stealing away souls without getting themselves hamstrung by their fellows. When you get Sammy all trained, I guessing he's got enough juice to work that spell, 'specially with you being willin' to be his. He won't be fighting two powers. Jus' your daddy's. I don't know iffen when he gets your soul that it will alert your demon. So long as it has your soul, it has power over you and you know it. It can make you do things you don't want to. You're its puppet if it wants to use you that way. Sammy don't realize that, either. He don't understand that you might end up betraying him no matter how much you love him and how much you don't want to. I don't know if your demon's got to be right in front of you or long distance will work to make you do what it wants. I'm guessing it's gotta be close to control you. Only way you can really protect that young man down them stairs is get him all learnt about his powers so he can snatch your soul back. Until Sammy owns your soul, your demon holds sway over Sammy too. You've already seen how Sammy is when it comes to family. He'll do anything to save someone he loves. And Boy, he loves you. He wouldn't be so…blind about you if he didn't. And you ain't already, you need to come clean with him about what your demon wants with him. He can't fight it if he don't know."

After stirring the sausage he said, "So tell me. You stepping out every hour, worried someone sniffed you out 'cause of the training or is something else brewing I need to be worried about?"

When Dean came back inside the house he wasn’t all that alarmed to hear movement from the kitchen area. It was close to dawn now anyway and it wasn’t as though he had been all that quiet when he made his trips outside. The only one he had enough consideration for not to wake was Sam. Though he made sure he did not disturb the younger man every time he untangled himself from his brother’s side and slipped upstairs, he certainly did not attempt to close the door softly or keep his footsteps quiet once he got to the main floor. So it was of no surprise that the old hunter was up and about.

What was a surprise was when Bobby addressed him and asked him to “join” him in the kitchen. Dean frowned a little at the request. A part of him wanted to tell the old hunter to go to hell and continue back downstairs to Sam’s side. He was tired and in no mood to play nice to the old man. But the fact that the other man had asked rather than ordered and knowing that if he refused and Bobby told Sam that Sam might be upset with him was enough to have him walking into the kitchen and sitting down at the table at the older man’s “suggestion”.

Dean looked down at the coffee mug sitting on the table, raising an eyebrow a little at the gesture but he wouldn’t turn it down. He could certainly stay awake without the extra caffeine but it would be easier with it. He didn’t bother with the sugar that Bobby mentioned because the other man was right, he didn’t care.

As he slowly drank his coffee he watched the older man work, cooking again, and admittedly he was a bit curious as to what Bobby wanted to talk to him about. Probably something he wouldn’t like, or that Sam wouldn’t like. Apparently he was right about the latter since the other man immediately started talking about the young hunter when he finally turned to Dean. Unfortunately Dean could only frown a in confusion, not understanding what the older man meant. Sam didn’t get what? If he should tell him? Tell him what?

Dean was about to tell the old man to stop being so fucking cryptic this early in the morning but Bobby finally got to his point and it really only confused Dean more. Sam didn’t know he was his new master? How could he not know? How could he not understand? Something like panic began to settle in Dean’s stomach when Bobby went on to say that Sam wouldn’t like it… Sam… didn’t want him? No, Bobby was lying. Of course Sam wanted him. Sam had said so himself, that Dean was his now. Dean believed anything Sam said over what Bobby said any day.

Bobby was wrong about Sam not wanting him, but he was certainly right about how angry his father would be when he learned of Dean’s betrayal… if he hadn’t learned already. It was pretty doubtful at this point that Azazel hadn’t heard of it by now. A small shiver crept down Dean’s spine at the very idea of his father’s wrath. Bobby was also right about Azazel owning his soul. Dean couldn’t really remember when exactly he had pledged his soul to his demon master. He had been five, maybe six, years old, and yes, his father had been very pleased.

Maybe Sam didn’t understand. Maybe his brother didn’t understand the full ramifications of what Dean had done, of what he might suffer if his father ever found him. But that didn’t really matter to Dean if Sam understood or not. Dean would have done the same thing all over again no matter what the consequences. However the idea that this man, this hunter, seemed to understand him so much better than Sam was a little unsettling. More than unsettling. Especially because he had his own fears about disappointing Sam, of Sam not wanting him anymore, not loving him anymore…

Yes, the only reason why he had not killed Bobby already was because of Sam and they both knew that. He also knew the only reason why the older hunter hadn’t tried to kill him was for the same reason. That was how it was always going to be. Friend… there was that word again. No he didn’t know, and no he didn’t care. He cared about Sam, that was all. He wouldn’t kill Bobby as long as Sam wanted him alive, and he was sure the same went for the older man killing him. At least they had an understanding.

Bobby’s talk of somehow transferring the ownership of his soul from Azazel to Sam did however shock him quite a bit and he couldn’t keep it from his face. No, he had never heard of such a thing. He didn’t know it was possible, but Bobby was right about one thing. It would be considered a crime punishable by death or worse if one demon tried to steal a soul owned by another. If Sam could do this spell… no… he couldn’t let Sam try. His father was far too powerful, and right now Azazel wanted Sam alive. That was maybe the only reason why Sam was still alive. If Sam tried something like that however it might just enrage his father enough to kill Sam outright.

Unfortunately Bobby was also right about how his father could compel him to obey, even if Dean did not wish to. It was one of the reasons why Dean kept returning outside all night long, to check for the presence of other demons… his father… if he felt Azazel closing in on him Dean was not planning on staying, he was planning on trying to lead his former master as far away from Sam as he possibly could. It was only a matter of time before Azazel found him. Only a matter of time, and was why he cherished ever second he had with his brother.

Dean considered a moment how to answer the older man’s question, he could simply answer “yes” that was all there was to it and leave it at that. But because it was Sam’s safety that Dean cared most about…

“My father wants Sam for the same reason he wanted me. Sam is far more powerful than I am or would ever be. I have been checking to make sure that Sam’s powers went unnoticed, you can relax on that account, I believe the room successfully shielded his power from the demons searching for him. I am also checking for the presence of my father. I will not stay here if he comes. I will lead him as far away from Sam as I can. I know will only be a matter of time before he finds me. I cannot hide from him forever… You are right, that Azazel owns my soul, but he can do far more than compel me to obey. If he wished to, he could take it. Steal it right from my body drag it straight to hell and there is nothing anyone or anything could do to stop that.”

The look on Dean's face made it quite clear to Bobby that Dean didn't know his soul could be regained. Well, transferred. Potentially Sam, once he owned it, could return that ownership to Dean, but he seriously doubted Dean would accept his soul back. He would want Sam to keep it. Bobby wondered what Jim would say. Was it a sin to own another's soul if they wanted you to have it?

Bobby gave a soft snort when Dean said he would bail and that no one could stop Azazel from taking Dean's soul. "Tell Sam that. He wouldn't let the boundaries of Hell stop him from trying to come after you. He definitely won't be happy if you try to bail on him.

"Glad to know the room is helping to keep you two hidden. When Sam's well trained enough to go up against Azazel is it?" Bobby gave long pause. "Quite a powerful demon. A fallen angel." Bobby turned back to stir the sausage, trying to hide the fact he paled a little. Jesus H. Christ. A fucking fallen angel. Sam might be strong, but Azazel was other worldly. He was a fucking angel. How could Sam ever hope to go up against the beast and win? Maybe Dean and Sam together…? But Dean couldn't, not while Azazel still held his soul.

"Let's hope Azazel doesn't find you until you boys are ready. When you think it's getting close, that Sammy's ready to snatch your soul from that demon, you let me know. I'll get some things set up so when he shows up, the two of you have a shot at beating him. I got me a few tricks that can help you boys out. I'm not going to let Sammy lose you. He can't take any more losses, Dean. He just can't. He loses you and he'll either simply break or he'll embrace that power of his with everything in him, probably searing his own soul away in the process just to get you back. We'll find a way to beat Azazel. I'll dig in hard and see what I can come up with. I'm glad I at least know what we're facing now." Bobby twisted his head to look at Dean. "Breakfast ought to be ready in about twenty minutes. Why don't you go rouse your brother…" Bobby cut himself short at the reminder the boys were lovers and brothers. He swallowed and began again. "See if Sam isn't ready for some breakfast. It's always better if you don't have to reheat it."

Dean's eyes narrowed a little when the older hunter stated quite plainly that Sam would not be happy if Dean “bailed” on him. Dean was not planning to bail on Sam! He was planning to do whatever was in his power to protect him! If that meant leading his father far enough away from Sam to give his brother a chance to escape the demon’s clutches… Bobby was probably right, unfortunately, that Sam would not see it that way. That the younger man would see Dean’s efforts as some kind of betrayal.

Betraying Azazel for Sam had been the hardest decision Dean had ever made in his entire life. It still tortured him inside. Knowing how he was betraying his former master. His father. If not for Sam… But Dean was doing all of this for Sam. The idea of betraying Sam…

Dean could barely breathe at the very thought.

Dean wasn’t sure he had been able to keep the turmoil of all his conflicting emotions from his face, but he wasn’t sure he cared right now either. Bobby’s rather blunt and obvious statement about his father drew him a little out of his despairing thoughts however. The fact that the hunter actually knew his demon father’s name, what his father had been, was a bit surprising however. This man was quite the hunter indeed if he knew the ranks of demons and fallen angels so well.

He still did not like the idea of Sam even trying to steal his soul away from Azazel. He may have to ask the hunter to see these books just so he could destroy them so Sam couldn’t even attempt it. Though Dean wished more than anything that his soul could belong to Sam and not to Azazel it was simply too dangerous. He could not, would not, let Sam try. But the idea of Sam trying to save him, trying to get him back, destroying himself… That terrified him just as much.

Then again, hadn’t Bobby said just a moment ago that Sam didn’t even want to own him? Maybe the hunter was wrong then. Maybe Sam wouldn’t try to come after him. Maybe his loss wouldn’t destroy Sam. Maybe it was better if Sam didn’t want him after all…

Dean was more than glad for the end to the conversation, and was also glad that the older man apparently didn’t notice the crushing misery in his eyes that idea had caused. Dean stood up from the table without a word and headed to the basement and the room where Sam slept. His brother still slept deeply and Dean was very reluctant to wake him, considering how exhausted the younger man must be. But using his powers always made Dean hungrier than normal, because it used so much energy. There was a good chance Sam would be hungry, if he was still tired after he ate he could always go back to sleep.

So Dean knelt down next to the younger man on the mattress, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly through his brother’s hair and over the nape of his neck.

“Sam? Bobby is making breakfast.”

Mostly there had been no dreams. Mostly. The dreams he had were a strange mix of nightmarish horrors and fantastical delights. On moment he was making love to Jessica, then she burned to ash in his arms, and Dean, like the phoenix, replaced Jessica's spot. They made love, then the Dean he first met in the mill was there with a knife and began carving on him and stroking him, making him hard with each stroke and simultaneous wicked gash. And then there was the presence, the presence that was watching him, the golden eyes in the dark. They were always in his nightmares, ever since he had been a small boy. They were faint now, they seemed to search for him, unable to see him, but that presence was still there, almost tangible in the shadows.

A cool wind lightly caressed him, disturbing his hair and tickling the back of his neck. His eyes shot open and a small gasp escaped him. His eyes immediately came to rest on his brother and the tension drained out of him.

He pulled Dean down into a long kiss. When he finally let Dean breathe he murmured, "Mmm, I think I like how I woke up last time better." He reached between Dean's legs and cupped him, then rubbed lightly against the mound beneath the cloth. "Breakfast huh?" he asked, his brain finally catching up to Dean's words. Sam smiled broadly. "And you called him Bobby."

The hand he was using to rubbing Dean's cock moved to the button of his brother's jeans, popping it open and pulling at it. Sam loved the sound the zipper made as the metal teeth slowly separated. He guided Dean's hand to his own pants that he hadn't bothered to peel off before falling asleep.

"I am hungry," he said, staring lustfully into Dean's eyes. "So I guess we better go for just a quickie. I'll make it up to you later, though." He slid Dean's jeans and shorts down to his thighs, looking hungrily at Dean's thick cock, a small moan escaping him. He was already half hard from his dreams and the sight of Dean's member drove more blood right to Sam's own.

Dean’s expression shifted briefly to concern at the way Sam almost startled awake, but when the younger man quickly relaxed so did his expression into a fond look. When Sam pulled him closer Dean went willingly. Parting his lips to accept the soft moist tongue into his mouth, stroking it with his own, nipping and sucking leisurely on Sam’s lips until they finally drew apart slightly.

Dean smiled a little when Sam mentioned how he had woken up the younger man before. Dean had certainly enjoyed that very much too, but he hadn’t wanted to overstep his bounds again. Now that he knew that Sam was interested in this from him now he was more than willing to “wake up” every part of Sam thoroughly.

Dean moaned softly when Sam’s warm hand slipped between his legs to palm his dick through his jeans.

“You asked me to.” Dean replied simply, with a little shrug, when Sam commented on him calling the old hunter Bobby. Still, the fact that it pleased Sam pleased him. A small groan of encouragement left his lips when Sam began to undo his pants. He needed no encouragement when Sam led one of his hands to his brother’s groin. Dean lovingly squeezed and rubbed the younger man’s growing erection through the rough material.

He deftly unbuttoned Sam’s jeans as well. Making quick work of the button and zipper as Sam eagerly tugged Dean’s jeans down his thighs enough to expose him. Sam’s hungry look as his brother gazed at his cock making him even harder. His fingers drifted upwards to slip underneath Sam’s shirt, lightly tracing across the firm muscles of his stomach then his touch moved down following the fine trail of hair, slipping easily underneath the waistband of Sam’s shorts to curl his fingers around the hot needy flesh he found.

“I want to suck you…” Dean whispered, licking his lips, eagerly wetting him. But he waited for Sam to tell him what he wanted.

Sam arched into the hand palming him and squeezing him, soft groans escaping him, a soft complaint sounding when Dean's hand left his cock. He felt his own pants loosen and was ready to lift his ass off the bed so Dean would pull his pants off when instead, his brother traced fire over his stomach. When the older man took hold of Sam's cock, a louder groan escaped him and he bucked a little into Dean's hand. The thought of Dean's plump lips wrapped around his dick sent a wave of fresh blood coursing into his cock.

The look of pure lust that he saw on his brother's face he knew was surely a mirror on his own. He had considered the same question, the same statement for Dean. He was really thinking them rubbing their dicks together was sounding pretty damned good too and had actually been his initial intent until he saw that big beautiful cock begging for attention. Dean beat him to the punch, dammit.

Sam stroked Dean's cheek with one hand while his other stroked Dean's cock. "I'm yours. You can do what you want to me, when ever you want. All you have to do is ask," he said and then added with a chuckle. "So long as you don't wear me out too much for training and you give me time to eat." He smiled letting his eyes half close and he dropped his hand from Dean's cheek and his cock. "Suck me off, big brother," he begged, eagerly anticipating Dean's hot mouth on his cock.

Dean leaned his face into the gentle hand that touched his cheek while he thrust slowly into the hand curled around his full erection. Sam’s words making him groan and Dean nodded in understanding. Then Sam’s hands left him as the younger man laid back against the mattress, waiting and eager for his mouth, and he didn’t even have time to think how much he missed having Sam’s touch on him. He was too busy thinking of how much he wanted to feel Sam in his mouth, heavy on his tongue, down his throat, hearing Sam’s moans as he took him deep.

He reluctantly released the younger man’s hot hard cock, he didn’t want to but unfortunately he needed two hands to pull his shirt off from over his head, as well as take off his jeans and underwear. Leaving him completely bare for his brother to look at or touch as he wished.

Dean straddled Sam’s hips then, leaning in to kiss the younger man slowly and thoroughly despite the fact that Sam had said they needed to do this quickly. Perhaps if he cared half as much about his own pleasure as he did for Sam’s he would have. Instead he moved slowly, exploring the younger man’s mouth at a leisurely pace before broke the kiss to slide down his brother’s body.

He let his body caress Sam’s, rubbing against the younger man, and pushing Sam’s shirt up more to expose his stomach when he reached there. Dean licked at his brother’s muscles and swirled his tongue in his navel for a few moments. Gripping the waistband of the younger man’s jeans and shorts and tugging them down, giving him access to his brother’s beautiful hard cock.

Looking up at the younger man through thick eyelashes Dean let his hot breath caress down the length of his brother’s throbbing flesh, shifting down even lower to lap at the younger man’s balls. Taking one and then the other into his mouth, swirling and sucking on the sensitive flesh. Licking a wet path up the underside of his brother’s dick resting hot and heavy against the younger man’s stomach. He didn’t touch Sam with his hands, only his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the swollen head and tickling the slit with the tip of his tongue. Groaning at the taste of the drops of precome he licked away.

Sam whimpered just a little when Dean's hand left his cock, but watching Dean divest himself of his clothing was enough reward to silence him. His mind was too busy fastened on that muscular scar ridden chest with nipples he wanted to latch onto and suck, those perfectly tight abs he wanted to run his hands over, that growing erection his hands itched once again to touch.

He watched as Dean straddled him and couldn't help bucking up into the weight that settled on him. Damn his brother knew how to make him hot. When Dean's lips descending on his, he cupped the back of Dean's head. He opened his mouth ready for hot and furious kisses, but realized Dean-and-his-damned-so-slow-it's-painful attitude was back. Dean made slow and patient love to his mouth and any thought of this being a quickie flitted out of Sam's head. Whatever Dean wanted to do, he was at his mercy.

The press of Dean's body against him only made him moan more into this brother's mouth. He ran his hands lovingly over Dean's back, tracing out muscle, tracing along scars. He wondered briefly if his healing power could take away Dean's scars. Maybe he would try. The thought of running his hands over perfectly flawless flesh excited him, but at the same time the scars were part of Dean and he wasn't sure he wanted that to change. Those scars were a constant reminder of why he would fight to the death to free his brother from his demon lord. Once he freed his brother, maybe then…

When Dean broke their kiss, Sam didn't particularly complain, know where that mouth was going to be very shortly. He arched into his brother's skillful tongue as it roved over his stomach and flicked in and out of his navel, bringing about more moans. He combed his fingers through his brother's hair and then lifted his hips a little, helping the older man to pulled his jeans and shorts down.

The look the man gave him when he reached Sam's thoroughly erect cock made his breath catch. Seeing his brother at his ready cock, feeling his hot breath whisper over it made his precome leak more readily. That moist tongue licking at his balls, that mouth taking one ball and then the other into his mouth had Sam bucking a little, so wanting Dean's mouth on his needy cock.

"Suck me, Dean," Sam begged softly between his groans of pleasure. He shuddered as Dean's tongue finally licked up his cock then played with his slit.

"Take me in your mouth," Sam breathed, momentarily tightening his fingers in Dean's hair, then petting at him, before running his fingers through his brother's hair again. "Take me…"

Dean rubbed his lips back and forth across the head of his brother’s shaft and then licked them clean slowly, savoring the taste of his brother smeared across them. At Sam’s order his eyes darkened even more with desire if it were possible and he didn’t hesitate to obey. Steadying the younger man’s thick shaft with one hand Dean parted his lips and slipped them over the thick crown. He played with Sam for a few moments just like that. Swirling his tongue around the tip, licking into the sensitive v underneath, sucking it until his cheeks hollowed, as though Sam’s cock was a delicious piece of candy. When he pulled his lips off of the younger man with an obscene slick pop a line of spit and come trailed from his lips to his brother’s cock and Dean eagerly licked it away.

“I love you.” He whispered, and when he opened his mouth again he took Sam all the way inside this time without any teasing. Feeling his brother’s hard cock nudging at the back of his throat he swallowed around the younger man to take him even deeper. He closed his eyes and moaned deeply as Sam bottomed out in side of him, nuzzling a little at the coarse hair at the base of his brother’s cock. His fingers digging bruises into the younger man’s hips to keep Sam pinned to the mattress. Soon he would let Sam set his own pace fucking his mouth but not yet.

He kept Sam as deep as he could for as long as he could, until little sparks of light began dancing behind his closed eyelids. Then he began to draw back, sucking on his brother’s cock hard enough for his cheeks to hollow till only the tip of the younger man remained past his lips then he took Sam deep again. He slid his lips up and down the full length of his brother’s member every time he took Sam into his mouth, setting a pace that wasn’t too fast to bring Sam off quickly and not too slow to be considered teasing.

Dean opened his eyes after a time, looking up the length of his brother’s body, humming contentedly around Sam’s thick dick sliding smoothly between his lips.

Sam was almost surprised Dean didn't tease him. He had told him they needed to be "quick" and he certainly wasn't going to complain as he watched his brother toy with his crown. Each swirl, each lick making him groan and try to fuck up into that mouth. When Dean began sucking on his cock, really sucking on it, Sam's head fell back and he moaned obscenely.

"So good, so fucking good," Sam murmured.

He heard Dean's soft words but couldn't do more than groan because Dean took him in then and his brain short circuited as Dean swallowed and held him there both buried deep in his throat and on the mattress, unable to move. Dean kept him encased in this mouth for so long he didn't see how Dean didn't pass out from lack of air. At least a part of his brain managed to wonder that while the rest of it just absorbed the unbelievable feel of being buried in his brother's hot wet mouth for such a long long time. Sam moaned again as Dean began sucking on him hard and began sliding up and down his length. It was a good pace, not the brutal slow pace Dean seemed to love to do to him and not so fast he was ready to come. When Dean began humming a small convulsion shook him.

"Dean…" Sam murmured over and over.

Finally the older man released his hips and Sam wasted no time starting to fuck up into Dean's mouth, his fingers still wrapped in his brother's hair. Initially he kept to the pace Dean had set, but as the heat coiled hotter and hotter in him, his pace increased. He couldn't believe how deeply Dean was able to take him and how Dean managed to suck him each time he pulled out. His cries of pleasure grew in volume and his paced increased as he pounded into his brother's mouth. He came hard, crying his brother's name as the orgasm shook him and the flashes of light filled his view.

Dean gave Sam everything he asked for and everything Sam didn’t. His own cock throbbed, hard between his legs, leaking and every sound his brother made only made him hotter and harder. Sam’s fingers tight in his hair, Sam whispering his name over and over, the fullness of the younger man in his mouth, Sam all he could taste and smell, it was all so perfect, so right.

He knew exactly when his brother wanted more, and he finally released Sam’s hips. Bracing his hands on either side of the younger man on the mattress and relaxing as Sam began fucking up into his mouth. Of course he continued sucking, licking, swallowing around his brother deeply, but he let the younger man control the pace completely. When Sam began to fuck harder, faster, between his lips Dean merely moaned around him in pleasure. Encouraging. Loving every second of his brother pounding down his throat.

Dean knew instantly when Sam was close, could feel it in the tightening of his brother’s body, his loud uncontrolled moans, the way his hips began to thrust almost erratically and when the elder man felt the first splash of hot come hit the back of his throat he took Sam in as deeply as he could. Swallowing him down and moaning with each convulsion, massaging Sam’s pulsing cock with his tongue and throat, drinking down every last drop of his brother’s pleasure as though it was the sweetest ambrosia. Refusing to let a single drop slip from between his lips.

He didn’t release or pull off his brother until the younger man began to soften in his mouth, and at the first breath Dean took as he drew back little spots of darkness and light danced in his vision but he didn’t care. He licked every inch of Sam’s cock clean, practically purring with pleasure and every swipe of his tongue. Finally letting his brother’s flesh slip from his lips with a tender kiss Dean laid down to rest his cheek on his brother’s thigh, panting heavily, and looking up at Sam with all the adoration in the world.

His brother milked him dry, pulling small shudders and moans from him until there was nothing left and his cock finally softened. Additional shivers of electricity arced through him as Dean ran his tongue over his cock again and again until he was finally satisfied and released him. Sam was still panting when Dean rested his cheek on Sam's leg. The look he gave Sam was pure and complete love and Sam felt so undeserving of it. He ran his hand over Dean's hair and then gave a light tug. Dean crawled up his sweat coated body and Sam pulled Dean down on top of him, kissing him fervently. Tasting himself in Dean's mouth made him groan. He stopped suddenly, his eyes wide when he felt Dean's hard erection pressed against him. He rolled Dean over so he pinned him to the mattress. Pushing himself up he looked down at his brother with loving eyes.

"You give me everything. You give me your love, your heart, everything you are and everything you even begin to think I want. I don't deserve you," Sam said, leaning down and brushing his lips teasingly over Dean's before pulling away.

"I want you to tell me what you want, tell me how I can pleasure you. You held back everything so you could focus on me. It's your turn, big brother. I want you to come, I want to ease you." Sam reached down and began caressing Dean's steel hard dick. "How do you want to come? Do you want me to blow you? Do you want to fuck me? Tell me what you want, Dean. You can have anything. Just tell me."

Sam’s fingers running through his hair practically made Dean purr, nuzzling a little against the younger man’s thigh and licking at the seam where his brother’s leg met his torso. When Sam tugged lightly on his hair, Dean knew exactly what the younger man wanted. Still smiling he pushed himself up, letting Sam guide him until their lips met in a scorching hot kiss. Dean moaning low in his throat as their sweat slick skin pressed and rubbed together, his hard aching cock twitching where it rested heavily against his brother’s stomach.

The look of surprise that crossed Sam’s face for a moment baffled Dean a little but he didn’t have long to wonder as his brother quickly reversed their positions. Dean grinned up at the younger man, resting comfortably pinned beneath his brother’s weight. The look on Sam’s face making his heart ache just a little…

However at Sam’s words his smile faltered and began to slip off his face. Don’t deserve? He didn’t… understand… How could Sam possibly think he was undeserving of him. That was wrong. All wrong. It was Dean who was undeserving of Sam. Sam was his master, not the other way around.

What did he want? Dean couldn’t stop the deep groan of pleasure that broke from his lips, arching a little beneath the younger man when Sam’s fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly. Beads of come already beginning to drip from his tip.

But Sam shouldn’t be asking him what he wanted. What he wanted didn’t matter. It only mattered what Sam wanted. But Sam had said he wanted Dean to tell him, and Dean was suddenly torn between obeying and fear of overstepping his bounds again. If he did that too much then Sam might get frustrated with him and Bobby might be right of Sam no longer wanting to be his master…

“Yes…” Was all Dean managed to groan out when Sam began listing off what he could do to him, bucking up into his brother’s fist. “Please, Sam…”

Dean's confusion confounded Sam. What did he say that bothered Dean? Why did Dean's smile disappear? The groan he got from his light strokes over Dean's hard member was rewarding and he felt the precome as his fingers slid over Dean's tip. Dean was so close as it was, what ever he gave Dean it certainly wouldn't take much. But still, he had said something to bother Dean.

Letting go of Dean's cock he pressed his body down hard against his brother's, holding him there, tight enough Dean wouldn't be able to rub against him to ease it. He stroked Dean's hair, looking into those emotional eyes, seeing the turmoil in them and not understanding. That would wait. That had to wait. He wasn't sure Dean could. He didn't want to keep Dean suffering as he surely was.

Sam ran his tongue over Dean's plump lips. "Tell me what you want," Sam whispered, "I'm not moving, I'm not touching, I'm not kissing, not until you tell me what you want," he breathed, blowing his hot breath over his brother's lips. He ghosted his fingers over Dean's nipples, ran them up the side of Dean's neck, placed barely there kisses over Dean's face. "Tell me what you want," Sam said.

Dean whimpered pathetically when Sam released his cock, and when the younger man spread out over him, their entire bodies touching at first he tried to press up and rub against his brother. But Sam was laying over him so heavily, pinning him so completely to the mattress he could barely move, and he realized that the younger man didn’t want him to move, so he stopped even trying.

Panting, his entire body vibrating with unfulfilled need, Dean parted his lips when Sam ran his tongue over them, and whimpered again when he didn’t receive it. At first Dean couldn’t help but wonder if his brother was not punishing him for something, denying him like this, and he wondered exactly what he’d done to displease Sam. Or maybe Sam was just enjoying holding him here, where pleasure almost turned to pain, listening to him beg?

Tell me what you want…

Dean groaned, frustration coloring the sound for a moment before he forced himself silent. Was this some kind of test? He wanted whatever Sam was willing to give him. He craved whatever Sam wanted. Sam wanted him to come, so Dean desperately wanted that. If Sam didn’t want him to come, he would let the younger man play with him for hours while he writhed and moaned but he wouldn’t come.

But what Sam was asking him… ordering him… he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want Sam angry with him. Sam’s fingers running over his chest, toying with his nipples, made him shudder again beneath the younger man. His brother’s soft kisses made him ache…

“I want… what you want…” Dean finally choked out, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked up into his brother’s face almost helplessly. Afraid that was the wrong answer even though it had always been the right one before.

Sam waiting patiently, waited for Dean to tell him what he wanted Sam to do for him. in the meantime he teased Dean, but was beginning to feel guilty. Dean was trembling with desire and need. Why didn't he just tell Sam something, anything?

Dean's frustrated groan made Sam furrow his brows and then Dean simply fell silent. Had Sam done something wrong? Was he doing something wrong? His touch shifted from ghosting to real caresses, real kisses along Dean's jaw. He paused and stared down into the face of his brother. His brother's face was pained and confused. His words were almost fearful. He wanted what Sam wanted? Sam shook his head a little. Didn't Dean have any desires of his own?

First he wouldn't dish out his own food and now he wouldn't ask Sam for anything. He had before. He had asked to suck Sam off. Last time he had woken Sam up fucking him senseless, teaching Sam a whole new level of sexual pleasure. He had often instigated their sex…hadn't he? Or had Sam? Sam wasn't so certain now.

He hadn't woken Sam up that way this morning. He hadn't kissed him awake, or tried to bring him to arousal. He simply woke him up. Did he not because Bobby asked him to bring Sam upstairs? That seemed unlikely. Maybe because…because Sam told him they needed to focus on training?

The pieces began to slide into place and he didn't like at all the picture they were beginning to form. No, he told himself he was wrong even as his own words echoed in his memory. You're mine…

Fuck.

He wouldn't tease Dean any longer. He kissed Dean hard, passionately, before slowly sliding down his body, pausing briefly at each nipple, working them erect, Dean's pleasure filled groans only making him work harder. He slid further down but his fingers went to where his mouth had beenbut moments before, twisting and playing with Dean's nipples as his tongue went to the the pooling precome on Dean's stomach. He licked it up slowly, letting his tongue brush over the tip of Dean's cock with each deliberate stroke. Turning to Dean's dick he ran his tongue down its shaft, licking and playing where Dean's sac and cock came together. He sucked lightly on either ball. He would love to draw this out, to make his brother writhe and squirm and keen and beg, but Dean had already held back so long it had to be painful.

He ran his tongue back up Dean's shaft and took the tip in his mouth, sucking gently at first then increasing the pressure as he slowly sucked Dean deeper into his mouth. The sounds Dean was making positively thrilled him. When he paused to breathe he returned to Dean's tip and began all over again, taking Dean in a little deeper this time. He did this over and over until he sucked Dean all the way into his throat. Holding Dean's hips firmly he began to slowly bob of his head, sucking each time he pulled up. He increased his pace feeling Dean shudder beneath him as Dean writhed. Sam suddenly remembered Dean humming and the way it felt. Slowing his pace, he tried it. He decided quickly that he sucked at it, though Dean didn't seem to mind if the sounds he made were anything to judge by. He would have to have Dean teach him how to do it properly. He picked up his pace again, finally releasing Dean's hips then, letting Dean set his own pace, encouraging Dean to fuck his mouth.

Dean’s heart beat hard and fast against his chest as he stared up at his brother and it was not only from arousal. Had he said the wrong thing? Done the wrong thing? Again? Would Sam decide he no longer wanted to be his master? Oh, that thought terrified him, pained him, almost enough to make him forget how aroused his body was. His stomach twisting with fear and he felt sick.

He was trying so hard to please Sam. Trying to do everything that Sam wanted. Trying to anticipate his brother’s wants, his needs, before Sam even asked for them, so he would not have to ask. It had been that way with Azazel. Dean knew most of the time exactly what Azazel wanted from him, he knew how to please his former master, and while of course the demon gave him new orders all the time, Dean could please him even if the demon gave him no orders at all.

Dean had thought he knew how to please Sam the same way. Everything he had said and done before had seemed to please Sam immensely. He had thought he was doing everything right... until Sam had told him that he shouldn’t instigate sex between them so Dean knew not to unless Sam did first. He thought he was pleasing Sam, but then the younger man had said he... didn’t deserve... so Dean knew he must have been doing it wrong after all. If he was making Sam not want to be his master then he must not be pleasing him in the right ways. He wanted to please Sam so very badly...

And now he hadn’t. Again. He had failed again. All he wanted was what Sam wanted. All he had ever done was an attempt to please Sam, and he had failed, he was worthless, Sam wouldn’t want to be his master anymore...

But then Sam was kissing him, so hard it practically bruised his lips and Dean whimpered in relief and joy, parting his lips eagerly for his brother’s ravishing tongue and clutching at Sam’s back trying to draw the younger man closer. Sam’s hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere on him, and Dean could have wept, because Sam still wanted him. Sam had forgiven him. He would try harder, he would do anything to please him. Anything.

Dean chanted the younger man’s name over and over, moaning helplessly as Sam ran his tongue over his aching balls and cock. The feeling of his brother’s warm wet mouth around him, swallowing him down, sucking on him, pure ecstasy. His fingers clutched at the younger man’s shoulders, his neck and back arched. He didn’t try to thrust up into Sam’s mouth, only taking whatever his brother was willing to give him until the younger man finally released his hold on his hips and then Dean couldn’t stop himself. His hips bucking up, thrusting between those perfect lips wrapped around him, already feeling his balls drawing up tight.

“Sam!” He practically screamed the younger man’s name as he came.

When Dean shuddered with release, when he screamed Sam's name and his seed spilled into Sam's mouth, Sam swallowed it down greedily. He sucked on Dean's cock, moaning each time Dean's body shuddered. He didn't release his brother until Dean had relaxed and softened. After he crawled back up Dean's body, he kissed him slowly, running his fingers through Dean's hair. He finally broke their kiss.

Dean thought Sam was his new master, his new owner. How the hell was Sam going to convince him that wasn't at all what Sam meant or wanted? He wanted his brother free, not switching one master for another, and he wasn't at all comfortable with the idea at the the thought of owning his brother.

"Dean, never doubt I love you and want you." He stared down into Dean's eyes. "I want to free you from that demon, I want you beside me always." He hesitated. He wanted to try to explain to Dean that humans didn't own humans and that he wanted Dean to be free and make his own decisions. Dean didn't know how to be free, though. He couldn't even serve himself his own food for fuck's sake! He didn't know how to make moral decisions. He only knew how to try to please the demon, how to make him happy because if he didn't he would be punished.

Reluctantly, Sam realized he couldn't afford to convince Dean he was free. Dean was still more…demon…than human. He might make decisions that Sam couldn't afford for him to make right now. Not until he had freed Dean from Azazel. Once he was free, once Dean's soul was his own again then he could begin the long slow process of teaching Dean how to be human. It had been ingrained into Dean that Dean only served and that would be a very hard thing to break him out of.

He smiled lovingly at Dean. Best he start small. "I want you to start figuring out things you like. There are a lot of things I know that simply don't matter to you. It would please me if you would start paying attention to things that you prefer over things you don't like as much. Like…food. Maybe I put peas and corn on your plate to eat, and maybe you really like corn but peas you think are little better than maggoty bread. I know you'll eat them both because I gave them to you. But I want you to tell me if you would really prefer more corn and less peas. Or maybe you like peas and hate corn. It's just an example. Maybe you think a shirt I bought you looks goofy. Tell me. I won't get mad. I won't want to send you away. I want you to start discovering things you like, aside from liking making me happy. You're mine. You'll always be mine and I won't be truly happy until I rip your soul free of Azazel's clutches and everything you are is mine and mine alone. Help me get strong enough to free you. Help me get strong enough to beat him, to kill him."

Giving Dean a hard quick kiss, he rolled off Dean but ran his hand lovingly down Dean's chest, to his stomach and caressed Dean's cock briefly. "You are so beautiful, Dean," he murmured.

He looked back up into Dean's eyes. "I also want to know how you like to be pleasured most. I know you're happiest making me happy, wanting what I want. I want to make you as happy as you make me. I want to pleasure you, too. There has to be a few things you like being done to you better than others. Like now. Anything you had wanted would have made me happy. There wasn't a wrong answer."

Sam pulled up his pants and handed Dean his own clothes. "C'mon before Bobby starts scolding us for being late for breakfast. It's never as good when it's reheated."

His body continued to shudder as Sam brought him down as slowly as he had done for the younger man and little aftershocks of pleasure continued rippling through him even after his brother had finally released his cock. Dean practically purred in contentment as the younger man kissed and pet him softly.

Though even the physical pleasure that Sam had gifted him with was nothing compared to the relief and joy he felt by his brother’s words. Knowing he had pleased the younger man. Knowing Sam wanted him. Dean wrapped his arms loosely around his brother, nuzzling into Sam’s neck, and Dean basked in the warm afterglow of both pleasures.

However when Sam began spoke again, Dean couldn’t help but frown slightly, and his eyes were colored with confusion as he pulled back to look at the younger man again. The younger man might as well have been speaking a language he didn’t understand as Sam described how he was supposed to “figure out” what he liked and disliked.

He wanted to please Sam. He wanted that desperately but he simply didn’t understand what Sam wanted. He was a slave. Slaves were meant to obey their masters, nothing more. The fact that he had disobeyed his previous master, becoming Sam’s slave instead, was still terrifying to Dean. He was terrified of the punishment he would receive from his former master if his father ever found him, certainly, but more than that he did not want to displease Sam. He did not want Sam to send him away. He wanted to stay with Sam… it was the only “want” he had ever had, and it frightened him…

But things like food and clothes… he just didn’t understand. Food was just food, he ate to stay alive, nothing more. Peas, corn, even maggoty bread, what did it matter? And clothes… that made even less sense to Dean…. Pleasuring him… anything Sam did to him pleased him, because it pleased Sam… But if it’s what Sam wanted he would try, he didn’t understand, but he would try…

Dean smiled faintly when Sam called him beautiful again, and nodded, taking his clothes from the younger man. He dressed quickly and followed Sam out of the room and up the stairs once he was finished.

"Hi, Bobby," Sam said and slipped into a seat at the table and motioned Dean to take the seat beside him.

Turning, Bobby glared at both Dean and Sam. "I was about to come down and drag you boys up here by your ears."

Bobby broke apart steaming biscuits onto plates and ladled sausage gravy over them and slid some sausage patties onto each plate in turn. He served Dean first, and then Sam before he settled into his own seat. He had already cut up some apples and poured the coffee and orange juice while he was stalling, waiting for the moans and screamed names to finally quiet. He was not about to actually go down into that basement when the boys were making such a ruckus. He would have to gouge his eyes out afterwards if he had. Seeing the brothers making love was not on his 'to do' list. It was on his 'definitely don't want to see' list.

"I didn't think you were in to threesomes," Sam said before he realized it. The words were hardly out of his mouth before he turned crimson. "I mean, I didn't mean…" Sam stuttered.

It was sick, it was twisted, but it was so ridiculous Bobby couldn't stifle his snort of laughter. Mostly because of how completely embarrassed Sam was about the whole comment. "Eat your breakfast, idjet," Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

Silence reigned at the breakfast table for a few minutes until Bobby spoke. "I was telling Dean I've been going through those books Jim gave me. Some major mojo in there. Might be a way for you to get your brother's soul away from Azazel." Bobby took another bite of his breakfast. Seeing Sam's face light up he shook his fork at the young man. "Sam, Azazel…he's one of the first demons. Hell, he ain't really a demon, he's a fallen angel." Bobby cut off another chunk of gravy-soaked biscuit. "I know you're strong, Boy, but I don't know if you're that strong. Men are men. Angels, they're…they're mighty powerful. Only hope you really have is killing him. In flat out tug of war, you'll get your ass kicked. There's a spell or two in the books that might help with the killing of him. I want you to start learning these spells, and I gotta gather the stuff you'll need to work them, but Sam, you listen to your brother and don't you even think about working them until he says you're ready. These ain't little light a candle, spin a pencil kind of magic. This is first magic. Old magic. One tiny screw up and the whole damned thing could blow up in your face and this sort of magic—hell, some say that's how gates to Hell get formed. Old magic gone bad. This is not magic meant to be done by common men. You got demon of some sort in you, you ought to be able to work 'em without them burning you up from the inside out, but I don't rightly know if you got enough demon in you, Son. You listen to your brother," Bobby glanced over at Dean. "And you," he said to Dean, "you know Azazel will come for you two. You need to be learning those spells too. Maybe 'twixt the two of you, you can get done what needs doing."

Dean sat where Sam indicated, and could tell instantly by the older man’s expression of displeasure that Bobby had probably heard them. Again. Dean couldn’t help but grin slightly at that. Anything that got under the older man’s skin amused him. Though he didn’t particularly like the old hunter’s tone as he addressed Sam, Dean remained silent. It wasn’t his place. If Sam allowed Bobby to speak to him that way there wasn’t much Dean could do. However if Sam ever indicated otherwise he’d gladly cut out the older man’s tongue for his insolence.

However at Sam’s reply to the other man, Dean couldn’t help but laugh, not sure which amused him more, the look on Bobby’s face or how red Sam became after the words were out of his mouth. Dean resisted the urge to waggle his eyebrows or leer at the older man, just to see his reaction and what color Sam might become, if only because he was afraid Sam might actually melt into the floor.

The smile slipped from Dean’s face slightly when Bobby set his plate down in front of him before he placed one in front of Sam. Given the “talk” the older man had given him and what Sam had said to him downstairs it bothered him even more than it normally would. For a moment he didn’t even begin eating, staring between his food and his brother with an unsettled frown before he finally picked up his fork and started eating. Trying to remember what Sam had said downstairs and what he was supposed to be doing, figuring out what he “liked” but he simply couldn’t wrap his head around it. He chewed, he swallowed, the food didn’t make him feel any different from anything else he normally ate. He was hungry and then he was full. Plain and simple.

Dean was glad for the distraction but not the topic when Bobby began telling Sam about the spells he’d told Dean about earlier. Dean leveled a hard glare at the older man until Bobby seemed to be dissuading Sam from attempting those spells rather than encouraging him. He wished the hunter had simply kept his fucking mouth shut about them but there wasn’t much he could do about it now except learn the spells himself Bobby spoke of and use them to protect his brother. Teach Sam how to use his powers so he could protect himself. And when Azazel did come for them…

Pray.

Sam's mind raced with the possibility of being able to get Dean's soul back. Bobby's stern caution had him nodding his head, glancing over with a smile at Dean. Dean was obviously pissed at Bobby for telling him. They must be very dangerous spells that Dean didn't want him to learn. Too bad. Getting Dean his soul back was right up there neck and neck with kill the demon bastard. Learning to use his abilities was only at the top of his list because he had no other way to accomplish his other two goals.

Glancing at the two boys, Bobby asked, "Anyone want seconds? Sam? Dean?"

Sam shook his head, pushing the plate away but spearing some of the apple pieces from the small bowl by his plate. With the way Bobby cooked, Sam was going to end up with a heart attack from the cholesterol before he was thirty. "I'm done."

When Dean seem likewise uninterested, Bobby dumped what little was left into a bowl. "Dean, would you mind taking this out to Rumsfield?" Bobby asked.

Sam gave Dean a nod and Dean headed out the back door.

"Bobby, he thinks I own him," Sam said quietly as soon as Dean stepped out.

The old hunter gave a soft snort. "Course he does. All demons answer to other demons, least ways till you get to the top of the chain. Then I'm not really sure how it works. He was a human in a demon world. He couldn't be anything but chattel. Azazel still owns him, Sammy. He's pledged himself to you, but so long as Azazel has his soul, he can make Dean do what he wants. You keep that in mind if Azazel gets the drop on you. He'll try to save you but if Azazel forces him, he will do what he's ordered. That doesn't mean he's betraying you. Just means he doesn't have a choice."

"It feels so wrong to "own" my own brother, Bobby," Sam said miserably.

It took a lot for Bobby not to make some comment regarding the whole incest thing. "He doesn't know how to be free, Sam. Anything you say he takes to heart and he takes it at face value. You tell him something and that's a new boundary for him until you tell him otherwise. He lives to please you. Nothing else matters to him. Not comfort, not pain, not hunger, nothing. Only you. You get mad at him and he'll expect to be punished or expect you to send him away. For as mean as a bastard as he is, he's utterly and completely fragile when it comes to you, his master. Until he learns more about you, he's going to be afraid of overstepping his bounds. Think carefully about anything you say to him or about him. Demons are known for lurking in shadows, trying to get intel, trying to ingratiate themselves to their superiors and trying to get a jump on anyone else. And do me a favor? You get pissed at me for something, don't be jumping down my throat in front of him. Like as not I'll end up with a knife at my throat if not across my throat."

Sam listened to Bobby's lecture with almost horror. He had figured some of that was the case, but to have it laid out before him like that…he wanted to deny it all. He wanted to shake his brother and knock some sense into him.

"Don't be trying to push him into freedom and choices too fast, Son," Bobby cautioned. "He doesn't know how to make choices for himself. He'll make choices that he thinks pleases you. He has no concept of 'self.' If he starts acting strange, likely he's thinking he's done something that displeases you. You tell him you want him to be free, that you don't want to own him, the only thing he'll get is that you don't want him. I can't stress it enough, Sammy. He can't function without a master. If you don't want to own him, that will shatter him. I'd bet my right toe that leaving Azazel for you is the hardest, most frightening thing he has ever done. Disobedience is not in his vocabulary."

Dean walked outside with the bowl of food for the dog, slightly irritated by the task Bobby had given him, but Sam had indicated that he wanted him to obey so of course he did. Mostly he simply didn’t like the fact that he was away from Sam’s side, the younger man in there alone with the hunter.

Not that he thought that the older man would harm Sam in any way, but who knew what Bobby was telling Sam while Dean was not there. Maybe telling him more about those spells that had Dean wishing he had cut Bobby’s throat before the older man could have said anything to Sam about them. Or worse, maybe the older man was talking to Sam about the same thing he had spoken to Dean about earlier, trying to convince the younger man not to be his master any longer…

That anxiety kept him tense and he wanted to get this meaningless task over with as quickly as possible so he could go back inside with his brother. The dog was exactly where Dean had seen him previous times he’d come outside, laying down on the hood on one of the beat up cars in the yard. The dog’s head lifted however when he saw Dean and what Dean had in his hand and unlike the previous times when the dog had ignored him he bounded off the roof of the car and ran over to him, wagging its tail.

Dean set down the bowl and the dog immediately began to gobble up its contents eagerly. The young man stood back a little, waiting for him to hurry up and finish so he could bring the empty bowl back inside. Though he couldn’t help looking at the dog with a considering eye. Not that he hadn’t seen normal dogs before, it’s just he never got over how different they were from the hellhounds he was far more used to seeing.

Once the dog was finished eating, licking its chops, its tail wagging even more vigorously now if it were possible, Dean bent down to pick up the bowl and was surprised by the sudden slobbering lick the animal aimed for his face. A little startled Dean tried to avoid it, and ended up stumbling, and he blamed lack of sleep and tiredness for the fact that he ended up stumbling over his own feet and falling onto his back.

The dog seemed to take his momentary lack of grace as an invitation, its heavy front paws knocking the air out of his lungs with an oomph, as it began licking and slobbering his face with much enthusiasm. Dean pushed it off him with annoyance and climbed back to his feet. The dog bounded away a few steps and barked. Dean took a threatening step toward it and it backed up a little and went down on its front paws, continuing to wag its tail.

Dean stood there frowning slightly in confusion. The animal looked at him like it was waiting for something. Dean took another step forward and it leapt up, ran in a circle around him, and then went back down on its front paws with another playful bark. Dean took two faster steps towards the animal and it started to run, came back, and ran away again, waiting.

Grinning in spite of himself Dean started to run and the dog took off again, barking playfully as Dean chased it through the junk yard.

Sam tried to wrap his head around Bobby's words. Dean couldn't function without a master. He didn't know how to be free, what 'self' meant. How the hell was he supposed to teach Dean those concepts? Dean never had them before. He never even knew they existed before. He lived only to serve his master. Sam.

Had the simple requests Sam made already tied Dean up in knots? Figure out what food he likes, what clothes he likes. Jesus, that was pathetic. Anything Sam gave him was food. He would like it because Sam gave it to him. Any clothes Sam gave him he would like because Sam gave them to him. Dean didn't care. He didn't know how to care. Anything his master gave to him was precious. Pleasure. Pain. Hunger. Food. Sex. It didn't matter. It was all precious because that's what his master wanted him to experience or to have. How the hell did you fight something like that? The only right and wrong Dean knew was what his master told him, and it only applied at that moment. It could change on a whim. The whim of his owner.

Sam thought he was going to be sick.

Rumsfeld's barking instantly brought both Bobby and Sam to their feet and peering out the kitchen window.

After a moment, Bobby began chuckling. "I'll be son of a bitch."

"He's…playing," Sam said, shocked, watching as the dog and Dean chased each other. The grin he saw on Dean's face was almost miraculous. It was happiness. Pure happiness in the moment. He would make sure Dean always got to take the scraps out to Rumsfeld from here on out. Maybe Dean would learn to enjoy playing with the dog enough that if he couldn't, he would miss it. Maybe the dog might teach him something Sam couldn't. That he liked something for himself and not for his master.

Dean chased the dog through the yard, around piles of old machinery and cars stacked waiting to be salvaged for parts or raw metal. Most of the time he easily kept up with the animal, though there were a couple of times it almost gave him the slip, bounding through an opening too small for Dean and he had to take the long way around. Dean enjoyed the challenge. The burst of adrenaline washing away his earlier fatigue and whenever he “caught” the dog he would turn around and it would chase him instead. He laughed as he dodged a playful nip to his boot weaving in and out of some piles of scrap metal trying to give the dog the slip but of course it knew the area much better than he did and eventually caught up with him.

Eventually, once they were both worn out, he stopped and the dog sat down by his feet panting heavily though its tail still thumped vigorously on the ground. It wormed its head under one of his hands, and Dean stared at the animal in a bit of confusion, not sure what it wanted now.

Realizing how long he’d been out here Dean glanced a little nervously towards the house and started to head back that way. The dog following beside him until they passed his “spot” and it leapt back up on the hood of the old car and laid down tiredly. Dean could sympathize. He felt beyond exhausted now but he knew his lack of sleep wouldn’t impair his ability to function. He’d have to go far longer without sleep for that to happen.

Reaching down to grab the empty bowl from the ground, Dean glanced once more to the relaxing dog. It didn’t lift its head from between his paws though the tail did start wagging again the minute Dean looked at it. Dean shook his head a little in bemusement before he started back inside the house.

Doing the dishes as he watched through the window he couldn't help but laugh softly. Dean and Rumsfeld disappeared among the old wrecks only to appear a few minutes later, to disappear again. He saw the two finally trudge back to the car Rumsfeld tended to sleep on. Dean's shoulders were a little slumped and he looked tired. Sam wanted to get a shower and while he wouldn't mind getting started on some training, he would rather wait until after lunch because it had all but exhausted him yesterday. Maybe he could train for a couple hours after lunch, take a short nap, eat dinner and then try to get a little more training in. He could let Dean get some sleep until this afternoon.

Since Bobby was already in the other room, Sam greeted Dean at the door with a warm kiss. He didn't know if he should say anything about the dog and decided not to. If he said something then he was giving Dean an opinion about it all, and he didn't want to do that. He wanted the man to try to decide for himself that it was a good thing.

"You need to get some sleep," Sam told Dean, hugging him a little closer. "You can sleep downstairs or on the couch, wherever you think you will sleep the best without worrying about me. Bobby's going to the store and I'm going to be up here for the rest of the morning. We'll get some training in later this afternoon."

It was so hard to resist nuzzling Dean's neck, but Dean really did need to get some sleep and Sam really wanted to get a shower and take a little time to just chill. So much had happened over these past days, he had not let himself even begin to process it. He needed to take a little bit of alone time and do just that. He hadn't worked out since the day Jessica had died, excluding sex with Dean, which he had to admit was quite a workout by itself, and he wouldn't mind a light workout. Bobby had a weight machine at the far end of the house. He would really like to go for a nice long run, but he knew both Bobby and Dean wouldn't want him that far from the house, and certainly not alone or out in the open. Maybe he and Dean could go for a short run before they started training.

"Go. Rest," Sam said, nudging Dean further into the house. He gave Dean a slap on his ass. "Maybe I'll get to wake you up this time," Sam said grinning at his brother.

Dean was only a little surprised when he was greeted by Sam kissing him as soon as he walked in the door, but it certainly wasn’t a bad surprise. He smiled at the younger man and slipped his arms around his brother, holding him close.

He nodded a little when Sam said he should get some sleep. He was tired after all and he would be able to better help train Sam with his abilities if he were not exhausted. He could not risk the younger man losing control and Dean not being able to help him regain it because he was too tired. Sam was already so much stronger than him. Once he learned to control his powers better…

“All right.” He said softly, nodding in understanding. If Sam was going to remain up here then Dean was going to stay upstairs as well, just in case his brother needed him for anything. Dean handed over the empty bowl when Sam nudged him, heading for the living room where the couch was, laughing softly when his brother smacked his ass on the way.

Dean headed straight for the couch that the younger man had indicated, exhaustion tugging at him even more now that he was willing to acknowledge it and submit to it. Practically as soon as he laid his head down on one of the throw pillows and closed his eyes he was out like a light.

Seeing Dean settle onto the couch didn't really surprise him. Although it would be inconvenient if Bobby hadn't returned and Sam decided to wake Dean, and then Bobby happened to come home in the middle. Dean would cackle himself silly over it. Sam would melt into the floor. Or wall. Or couch. Or whatever was most convenient at the time.

Joining Bobby in his study, Sam looked over the shopping list the older man handed him. He quickly jotted down a few things including sheets, a tennis ball (for Rumsfeld and Dean), a baseball (because he enjoyed tossing one around), Oreos, chocolate chip cookies, and a handful of other munchies. Basic necessities they had purchased in spades and brought with them or Bobby already had. Though he did add a couple blankets. Yes, Bobby had blankets but it was just a bit…weird…to think of having sex with Dean with one of Bobby's blankets over or under them. As an afterthought, Sam added rope. Bobby cocked an eyebrow. Sam smiled back.

"In case a demon or something shows up. You can never have too much rope," Sam said innocently.

Bobby shook his head. "Yeah. Fine," he harrumphed, trying to completely ignore the real reason Sam probably wanted the rope. He was not going there. No. No way. No how. Uh-uh.

"Oh, maybe some extra laundry detergent. For the sheets and all."

"Acting like freaking teenagers," Bobby muttered under his breath. "Okay, anything else?"

Sam shook his head, "If I think of anything, I'll call. What time do you think you'll be back?"

Bobby glanced at his watch. "Maybe one. I'll need to hit a couple stores for everything." He started to head toward the door and paused, not looking back. "No sex on the couch. Understood?"

Sam felt the flush to his face even though Bobby wasn't looking at him. One minute he could be thinking truly dirty thoughts about Dean, even imply some of them, but when Bobby called him on the carpet, he turned beet red and knew it.

"Yes sir," Sam answered to that tone of voice almost automatically.

After another harrumph Bobby tossed over his shoulder. "I'll bring back some fried chicken for dinner. Don't wait on me for lunch."

"We'll be training this afternoon, if we're not up here."

"Got it," Bobby said and headed out the door. He took a small bit of pleasure in closing the door behind him just a little more sharply than necessary. Sure Dean needed sleep, but Dean had fucking well woke him up every hour. He was just returning the favor.

Once Bobby left, Sam went down to the basement and brought up some fresh clothes and went in to get his shower. He set a fresh set of clothes for Dean in there too, in case Dean wanted a shower when he woke up.