Sam couldn’t believe they’d made out right outside Bobby’s door. He just... he didn’t know what had gotten into him, though he knew full well what had gotten in Dean. The usual...

Nah, there was nothing ‘usual’ about tonight. Tonight he’d finally understood what he wanted and what was meant to be, and had come to terms with it. He wanted his brother for all time, and in every way. Right there, on the sofa, as they’d made out, they’d bared their hearts and made their promises of forever.

Sure it was still complicated, but he was determined that they would make it through. And by the time he’d dragged himself away from Dean, he’d noticed that there was nothing ‘distant’ in his brother’s eyes, not anymore. A smile curved his lips as he went to sleep in the top bunk, knowing Dean was downstairs, taking the first watch and thinking about him.

*

It was hot. So damned hot. And crowded. Hell, the ‘safety rail’ was digging into his stomach. And on top of all that, he had a hard-on like he couldn’t believe, and it wasn’t even morning. Biting his lip, he started to push away from the side of the bed when he felt a warm hand slide up between his thigh.

His heart stuttered as the hand... Dean’s moved up and down, touch him, getting him going. “Dean,” he hissed, suddenly realizing his brother had pushed himself into the tiny bed with him and was responsible for the state of his body. This was why his pulse was racing and his chest contracting. This was why he needed to fuck so bad, it was painful. “What’re you doing to me?” he asked in a tortured voice, trying to turn around, and so very aware of Dean’s hard cock throbbing against his ass.

Dean spent most of the night lounging back on the couch, his objective of cleaning the weapons pretty much forgotten, his hands behind his head, and probably the stupidest grin ever plastered on his face but he couldn’t really help himself. The taste of his brother was still in his mouth, on his lips. The feel of the younger man’s warm skin still made his fingertips tingle even though Sam had gone to bed hours ago. He was happy and that was so damned shocking he just couldn’t stop thinking about it and the reason for his happiness.

Sam. Always Sam. His younger brother had always meant everything to him his whole life, and now Sam meant even more. Dean hadn’t realized just what a deep seated fear the thought of his brother leaving him was until it was no more. Gone, erased with just a few simple words from Sam, his fear that Sam would no longer want this new and forbidden relationship between them. His fear that once it was all “over”, whether he was cured or not, one day Sam would go back to California, back to school, and a girlfriend, and a life that Dean could never be a part of.

Instead Sam had chosen him. Sam loved him and would always love him. Sam was going to stay with him, no matter what. His brother wasn’t just telling him what he thought he wanted to hear. He knew Sam meant it. Sam wouldn’t lie to him about something that big. A small part of him worried that his brother might one day regret his decision, regret loving him as more than a brother, but he refused to think about it now.

For once in his god damned life he was happy. Even after the fucking rollercoaster these last few weeks had been, not to mention how it would get worse soon, and of course the six months he’d been a prisoner, he was happy and he was going to enjoy it for as long as he fucking could.

A little bit before dawn Dean made his way upstairs to wake his brother so that Sam could take the second watch. He couldn’t help but grin when he saw that the younger man had actually squeezed himself onto the top bunk bed and with a mischievous glint in his eye Dean stripped down to his underwear and climbed up the latter silently and squeezed himself in up against his brother’s back.

There was absolutely no room, and definitely wouldn’t be comfortable in the long run but for the moment Dean didn’t care. He buried his face against the back of Sam’s neck, running his hands over Sam’s body slowly, waking him up in more ways than one. The smell of his brother’s arousal made him hard in seconds and tenting the front of his shorts as he ground himself against the younger man’s ass in easy circles.

“I think it’s kind of obvious… unless you want me to draw you a picture…”Dean grinned against his brother’s neck, raining soft kisses along the younger man’s warm flesh. He squeezed his brother’s thigh before slipping his hand around to caress Sam’s heavy dick.

“Mmmm,” Sam involuntarily arched back against Dean., even the slightest irritation driven from his mind by the feelings pulsing through his body and memories of their talk. “You know I like it when you draw me a picture.”

A forward thrust had his mouth banging against the railing. He mentally cursed and put a hand out, his fingers curling tightly around the railing, tightening to the same rhythm that Dean was squeezing and stroking him. Fuck... he was so damned hard, even with the knowledge that Bobby was just downstairs.

He moaned again, biting his lip, trying to keep sounds to a minimum, but the sensation of Dean’s mouth traveling back and forth over his back and neck, his arousal pressing insistently against his ass, and the attention he was giving his cock, was making the battle one that Sam knew he’d lose.

“Dean, he’ll hear me.” He muttered the admission of his inability to control himself, not wanting to stop, but not knowing how they could do this. He searched with his hand slightly behind him, running up and down Dean’s side, and cupping his ass... kneading his flesh and choking back another groan. “Fuck...”

He couldn’t remember ever having felt this out of control in his life. Out of control with lust, with need, with love... so willing to take risks, to throw away everything he’d gained, everything that could be... and not look back. “Fuck ... Deam... please...” he started to writhe and threw his head back against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s first thought to Sam’s protest that Bobby would hear him if they kept going was, So what? But the part of his brain not completely clouded by lust and hunger knew it would be a very very bad thing if Bobby even suspected, much less heard them making out or fucking upstairs. It would be bad enough getting it from Bobby himself, but then Bobby would tell their father and who knew the explosion that might cause.

But considering they had made out with their father in the bed next to them, and since Sam wasn’t exactly telling him to cease and desist, Dean wasn’t about to stop. They just had to get a little creative that’s all.

Though he was really enjoying their current position, the way Sam was grabbing and pushing back against him, not to mention the feel of his brother so hot and heavy in his hand Dean forced himself to release the younger man. His other hand quickly snaking over Sam’s mouth to stop him from protesting loud enough to make his efforts moot.

“Just a second, Sammy. I’ve got you.” Dean whispered reassuringly into his brother’s ear, pushing himself up and cursing softly as he shifted himself around. Bumping his back and then his knee against the safety rails and suddenly having doubts whether or not the small bunk bed would support both their weight.

“Alright, roll over.” He ordered softly, helping Sam onto his stomach and then pulling his brother up onto his hands and knees. Dean slid his hands up Sam’s body, bunching up his t-shirt as he went and fisting the material in his hands he brought it up to his brother’s mouth.

“Bite down.” Dean whispered, plastering himself against the younger man’s mostly bare back and licking the shell of the younger man’s ear.

Yeah, he'd been the one to question the wisdom of doing this. Yeah, he was scared to death of what Bobby might hear... what he might find. Yeah, he was mature enough to know better than to take such risks, but when Dean silenced him with his hand only to pull away, he damned well wanted to yell at Dean. He couldn't get him this hard and then just leave him. Hell no...

And then Dean said the right words. I've got you. Those three words were all it took to stop him from struggling, to have him trust Dean. He'd make this work, make the fire burning inside him go away. Biting his lip, Sam did as his brother told him, rolled over on his stomach. Feeling Dean's palms against his skin as his brother pushed his shirt up, he groaned and tensed at the sound that came out of him.

Then Dean was whispering in his ear, his hot breath so fucking distracting, the younger Winchester had trouble making sense of what he said. "Wha..." Feeling the material under his mouth, he got what Dean wanted. Opening his mouth, he closed it around the material, whimpering at the feel of his brother's weight pressing over him, his cock, hot, hard and ready, teasing, rubbing along the cleft of his ass.

Needing more, he lifted his ass, one hand twisted painfully behind him, palm gripping Dean's ass cheek... kneading, forcing him closer even as Sam rubbed his cock into the mattress, seeking relief. Oh God, please Dean... please... can't wait, please... need this, he squirmed, his heart banging against his heart as he urged his brother with the motions of his body.

Dean silenced his own moan against the back of his brother’s neck the way Sam thrust back against his hard dick. He ran his hands over the younger man’s sides and over his back. Rubbing himself between Sam’s hot ass cheeks and knowing exactly where this was going despite the fact that they weren’t really prepared for it. Right now Dean couldn’t really bring himself to care as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his brother’s boxers and tugged them down swiftly. Pulling his cock out of his own as he rained kisses all over Sam’s sweat slicked back, and he bit off another moan as his next thrust between the younger man’s ass cheeks was nothing but hot skin against hot skin.

His cock was already weeping at the tip, but Dean spit into his palm anyway for what little extra lubrication they could get. He took his cock in hand, running his fingers up and down its length slicking himself up and rubbing the head against his brother’s tight hot hole. Moaning at the sight of his own fluids slicking up the tight puckered skin.

“Let me in, baby brother…” Dean practically purred into the younger man’s ear, gripping Sam’s hip hard enough to leave bruises to steady him as he began to push inside of his brother. Sam was so fucking tight, for a moment Dean didn’t think that the younger man’s body was going to even let him inside, but finally the tight ring of muscles gave allowing him to push inside Sam’s incredible tight heat.

“So fucking hot…” The elder man growled low in his throat, thrusting his hips forward slowly, easing himself as gently as possible into Sam.

Dean’s grip on him was almost brutal. His brother’s impatience inflamed his own need. He arched slightly up, screwing his eyes tightly shut at the sudden stab of pain. He made a sound of protest, but Dean’s words calmed him... made him want what came after this.

His brother knew what to say, knew how the dirty talk always got to him, and tonight was no exception. Very quickly, he forgot about the burn and was lifting his face up, “Dean, fuck me... I need it so bad.” Then his brother was inside him all the way, and Sam had to clamp his mouth around the roll of material again to prevent the loud groan that threatened to well out of him.

He squirmed, pushing up, a flash of white burning his eyelids as Dean filled him again. So big, so fucking thick and hard inside him, Sam thought he might pass out, but stubbornly held on. He took a couple of breaths, and then Dean was fucking him.... oh God... oh God, it felt so good... so damn good... so hot having Dean whisper in his ear, his moist breath fanning his shoulder and cheek. The way Dean’s voice sort of shook at times, like his brother was just s out of control, somehow raised the intensity of everything he was feeling.

Dean, Dean, Dean, he wanted to call out his name. Wanted to get up on his elbows and push back... wanted Dean’s hand to press his back down as he fucked him... and that was exactly what he imagined as his brother drove inside him again and again.

The bed rocked too hard... they both eased up, but Sam couldn’t take it. He clenched his muscles around his brother and released, and clenched again. Closer, he was getting closer... his fingers tightened around the side railing as his world skittered out of control.

“I know you need it, baby. I need it too.” Dean groaned, licking a path up his brother’s back as he bottomed out inside his brother, the younger man’s heat surrounding him, so tight, so fucking tight, and perfect. He barely waited for Sam to adjust to him before he began to move, he simply couldn’t the way the younger man began pushing back against him, begging for it. His first slow thrust made him sink his teeth into the back of his brother’s neck to silence himself. To keep himself from moaning or shouting out his pleasure that would surely wake Bobby and bring the older hunter to investigate.

That idea in itself was so damned dirty it made his blood race faster and hotter in his veins. The temptation not to be quiet, to be as loud as he damned well pleased as he fucked his brother, made him scream in pleasure. To not hide it at all and damn the consequences…

But he couldn’t do that to Sam, he wouldn’t, so bit and sucked on his brother’s neck and shoulders as he slid in and out of that exquisite sheath wrapped around him. Quickening his pace and the force of his thrusts, until he was practically pounding his brother’s tight hole. Only the softest moans of passion escaping him.

When the bed rocked too hard against the wall Dean forced himself to slow down, only barely. He was too far gone for that. When Sam began clenching his already tight muscles around him rhythmically Dean bit his own lip bloody to keep from shouting out in pleasure.

“So good, so fucking good, Sammy. You’re so hot. Love it when you’re this hot. Love it when you need it this bad. You’re going to feel me for days after this, I promise you, baby brother.” Dean moaned into the younger man’s ear as he reached around and grasped his brother’s hard cock, jacking the younger man off in counter point to his thrusts.

The bed knocked against the wall, and Sam couldn’t care. Dean was fucking, like he needed, hard… fast… mercilessly, just getting them there, and that was all that counted. He lifted is head, “Yes, oh God, Dean,…” as his voice started to get louder, he slammed his face back down and bit the material of his tee-shirt, now wet with his saliva.

Only his brother could do this… read him so well. Know … just know he needed to have the daylight fucked out of him right here, right now. Only his brother’s words whispered in his ear could trigger this reaction, only Dean’s hands would ever be allowed to touch him like this… so rough, but so damned perfect.

He knew Dean wanted him like this too, maybe even worse. He was damned sure that his brother was reining himself in, protecting him. “More…” He mumbled, wanting Dean to let loose… not to worry about him. He could handle this. He could handle the consequences tomorrow. Right now was about them only.

Then his brother’s hand was around his cock, and he was whispering again in his ears. Sam writhed back and forth, so far gone… almost moving at a fevered pitch… all he could think about was finding relief. The heat within his belly was coiling so damn tight… he needed to come. Really. Needed. To. Come.

More…

That was all Dean needed to hear to break the careful reign on his control. Not caring anymore whether or not he made Sam scream at the top of his lungs. Not caring if the bed left noticeable dents in the wall it rocked and banged so hard from their frantic fucking. He’d held back for Sam, but if Sam didn’t want him to hold back…

Dean growled low, possessively, almost animalistic in his throat as he drew almost completely out of the younger man’s body, only the head of his shaft remaining, and then thrust back in hard. The loud obscene slap of their hips only inflaming his need more, and he thrust again, hard and deep, rocking Sam forward and pulling his brother back towards him with the bruising grip on his hip.

“Sam… Sammy…” He whispered the younger man’s name over and over against the hot slick skin of his brother’s neck. He jacked Sam off harder when his brother began to writhe, loving the feeling of Sam coming apart in his arms while he claimed the younger man utterly.

“Come with me, Sammy.” Dean finally growled as he slammed one final time hard and deep into his brother. Biting into Sam’s shoulder so hard to silence himself as he came it was probably a good thing there was a layer of cloth there or Dean might have pierced the younger man’s skin as his seed poured from his pulsing cock deep inside Sam.

Each time Dean said his name, Sam thought he was gonna explode. It was like his brother was claiming him, reminding him that he belonged to him, and Sam ... Sam who usually fought... railed against anyone trying to exert their will over him... he was accepting it. Accepting... reveling... loving it. Needing it.

He bit down at the groan that threatened to break from him when Dean started to pound him harder, just like he needed. He moved his hand behind him, trying to touch Dean, to grip any part of him ... hand sliding over Dean’s sweat slicked skin.

His eyes rolled back as Dean took him to the very edge, jacking him off and fucking him... making him feel so fucking helpless all he could do was give in to the intense sensations crashing over him. Fuck... oh God Dean, Dean... oh God.

Then his brother was telling him to come, and he bit his lip as Dean drove into him a final time, the pleasure and pain taking him right over the edge with Dean. As his brother shuddered over him, releasing his spunk deep inside him, Sam bit back a scream punctuating his own release.

He couldn’t help undulating his hips still, rubbing himself against Dean’s hand still under him... cupping his softening cock now, and pushing back into his brother. His throat was dry. He swallowed, and moved his head to the side. His breaths were too loud, and so were Dean’s... God help ‘em if Bobby got up.

“Dean?” His mouth curved into a tired smile. “So good. Just... just what I ... we... needed.” His brother’s weight was comforting, even if he would probably get too heavy after a while. “I hope I can still walk,” he snorted.

A couple more minutes passed. “Dean? Does it... does it feel like we’re one, when ... you know, we’re doing it?” He lifted his face as much as he could, trying to get a look at Dean. “Or does it feel like just sex, like with anyone?” He knew Dean hated these talks, but he had a burning need to know what Dean felt inside.

Dean collapsed heavily against his brother’s back as the intense waves of pleasure from his orgasm began to diminish. Pressing the younger man into the mattress (not to mention the wet spot) beneath Sam in a way that was probably uncomfortable but he simply couldn’t force his body to move right now. Truthfully, he didn’t even want to move. He wanted to stay just like this, as close as physically possible to Sam, for as long as he possibly could. His fingers still cupping the younger man’s softening cock gently, his own cock still buried deeply inside his brother’s body, his come leaking from Sam’s hole stretched around him.

He could feel Sam’s small movements beneath him, pushing into his hand gently, pushing back onto his cock as though trying to take even more of him inside. Dean pressed soft warm kisses into the back of the younger man’s neck, squeezing and rubbing Sam’s cock tenderly as he shifted his hips from side to side, stimulating and stretching the younger man’s well used hole without having to pull out of him and break the contact.

“Mmmm…” Dean agreed wordlessly as he gently nuzzled his brother’s neck just underneath his ear. Yes, this was exactly what they both had needed. Though he didn’t know whether to be pleased, amused, or a little concerned when Sam wondered aloud if he’d be able to walk in the morning. Hell, if he’d be able to walk for the week considering how hard Dean had fucked him.

Dean groaned half heartedly in complaint however when Sam predictably went all emo on him all of a sudden. Hadn’t they shared enough girly heart to heart share your feelings moments for one night?

“Such a girl, Sammy, always wanting to talk after you come.” Dean teased, his voice warm and affectionate however, as he gently rolled them both over so that they were on their sides and he wasn’t crushing his brother into the mattress anymore. He propped himself up on his elbow just enough so they could look at each other without Sam wrenching his neck. Sliding his hand that had been gently fondling his brother’s cock up Sam’s stomach and chest, through the mess of his brother semen, and back down, in a slow petting motion.

“Course it doesn’t feel like this with anyone, because you’re not just anyone, Sammy.” The elder man finally said softly, leaning down to kiss his brother tenderly.

Unable to deny the accusation in this instance, Sam gave a self-conscious laugh, loving how his brother’s breath skimmed over his ear and face. As Dean pulled out of him, he let out a soft sigh, thinking Dean was going to deny him an answer.

He turned over at Dean’s urging, quirking an eyebrow at the bigger mess Dean was making of him. The scent of their lovemaking was so thick in the air, it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. And looking into Dean’s eyes now, for the first time in a long time he saw peace. No anger, no fear, no anxiety... just peace, and a soft look meant only for him. He rolled closer and stole a kiss, smiling as their tongues met, and pulling back.

Then Dean told him how he felt, and the moment could not have been any more perfect. He kissed Dean back, his mouth lingering over his brother’s, tasting, mapping, cherishing. “No, I’m not just anyone. I’m your Sammy,” he agreed between kisses.

Even when he’d been waist high when compared to his brother, he’d known... he’d known he was the most important thing to Dean. When they’d grown up, he’d known it was slightly unnatural, the way Dean put him above all else. It was a product of their childhood, of having had to raise and protect him, of being responsible for him. Sam had been grateful for it, he loved his brother, loved him so much. For years, it had hurt being apart from him in college. Worse was the fact they didn’t really communicate. That was his own fault. He’d been afraid Dean would side with their dad, and that fear had kept him from calling. That had been stupid... and he was kicking himself for it.

“I... Know how I never felt like I fit anywhere?” he asked tentatively. “I know where I fit now, Dean. Here, with you. Only you.” This time he took control of the kiss, putting all of his emotions into it, cupping the side of Dean’s face and moving it back and forth, positioning him where he wanted.

Dean couldn’t help but grin into the kiss at his brother’s soft words between gentle nips with his teeth and swipes of his tongue. His Sammy. Dean definitely liked the sound of that. Especially considering for much of his brother’s teenage and adult life he’d been trying to kick the old nickname Dean and their father had called him since before he could walk.

“Damned straight my Sammy.” Dean agreed with a soft chuckle, kissing the younger man again thoroughly as his fingers continued to map out every line and curve of muscle along every inch of skin he could reach. Enjoying the easy silence and, yes, cuddling. He was tracing up and down the length of his brother’s spine, sometimes dipping low enough to slip between his ass cheeks for a gentle fondle when Sam spoke again.

His brother’s question made Dean’s throat feel a little tight in spite of himself as he nodded. Yes, of course he remembered. Most of his life his younger brother had lamented about not being able to stay in one place long enough to make friends. Not being able to stay in contact with the ones he did make because it would make them too easy to track. Always feeling like an outcast, even in their own family because Sam had always wanted a different life. A life that didn’t involve hunting. A life without their father or him…

Knowing all this it only made his brother’s next admission, that this is where he ‘fit’, with him and no one else, all the more perfect, all the more special, all the more treasured…

Dean moaned softly when Sam kissed him again, letting his brother take control, opening his mouth for the slick hot tongue to explore him as he wished. He held on to Sam as tight as he dared, knowing he’d never felt as loved by anyone, not his father or even his mother, as he felt loved by Sam. He supposed it was no wonder that the “wolf” inside of him had chosen Sam is its “mate”. Not when Sam had always been the most important thing in his life. Not when he held everything he had ever wanted right here in his arms.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after Sam had fended off Dean’s efforts to convince him to shower together in the small closet of a bathroom downstairs, right next to Bobby’s room, Sam finished taking his own shower. Dean had taken a quick one and was waiting on him so that he could take over the watch and Dean could go get some sleep.

Pushing the door open and finding Dean sitting on the sofa, eyes wandering up and down his half naked body, Sam shook his head, silently mouthed the word ‘no’ and pulled the towel tighter around him. He knew his brother.

“Go get some rest,” he told him, turning around to put on the clothes he’d brought down with him. First he listened for Bobby, to make sure the crusty hunter didn’t get an eyeful of something he might not want.

Sam could feel Dean’s stare. He could even feel his brother’s amusement at the fact he’d turned around. He dropped the towel, bent over and started pulling up his shorts, “answer is still ‘no.’” This time, he was the one who was amused. Very quickly, he pulled up his jeans, zipped up and turned around.

The smile was wiped off his face when he found himself staring into bright yellow eyes instead of mischief filled green ones. His heart slammed into his chest, his mind working as fast as it could. Where the chains were. The gun. The room with a cage downstairs that Bobby had told them about, without detailing the exact reason they’d come here... it was obvious.

“Dean. Let’s go downstairs.... now,” he said softly but firmly. The smart thing would have been to wake Bobby. To have back up. But he wasn’t sure that anyone, anyone but him would spare the silver bullet... and he couldn’t take that chance.

Dean’s hair was still wet and small beads of water were dripping down the back of his neck into the collar of his unbuttoned shirt as he sat on the couch waiting for Sam to finish his shower. He had tried to convince the younger man they could just shower together but his brother had steadfastly refused. He knew it was probably a good decision considering he could never seem to keep his hands off of Sam when so much of his brother’s skin was revealed and the walls between the rooms weren’t that thick. Still he’d pouted, mostly for show, as he went downstairs to take his shower alone, and then when they switched and his brother went in after him.

With his sharpened senses he could hear practically every drop of water hitting the bottom of the tub or striking his brother’s skin. He could practically smell Sam’s warm wet skin, even through the door. He could close his eyes and just imagine watching wet soap suds sliding down Sam’s flesh, his hands following their path, touching him everywhere that Dean wanted to touch. He imagined licking warm drops of water away inch by inch, savoring every taste of flesh...

The only thing keeping him from going into the bathroom to do just that was Sam’s warning that he wouldn’t get any the next time they were alone, not that he really believed his brother, and the sound of Bobby’s breaths and snores from the other bedroom.

When he heard the shower cut off Dean opened his eyes, staring at the bathroom door and then his mostly nude brother as Sam exited. The younger man looking just as delicious as he knew he would, his skin glistening and his hair wet, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist…

Dean chuckled softly at his brother’s silent ‘no’ and the way he turned away before dropping the towel… like that view was any less appealing to Dean. It might have been even more so as the younger man bent over to get on his underwear and jeans. Giving Dean a splendid view of the younger man’s ass he’d just fucked practically raw.

When Sam turned around, the expression on the younger man’s face and his scent changing abruptly to worry, bordering on fear, Dean’s expression remained unchanged. Almost unconcerned. His head tilting to the side a little as he considered Sam’s words, his brother’s order, and then a slow smile began to break out on his face.

“Why?” He asked casually, though his tone suggested he was anything but curious.

As safe as he’d felt in his brother’s arms less than half an hour ago, and as much as he told himself that Dean would never hurt him … not when he was himself, and not even when he was under the influence of the wolf he was becoming… the truth was that staring into those yellow eyes, Sam was afraid. Afraid that in one moment, in a split second, an uncontrolled Dean could wipe out everything… everything they had just become to each other.

Fighting his natural instincts, he forced himself to hold Dean’s gaze, to evaluate his stance. He looked normal, but that smile, it didn’t fit the situation. Dean would know why he wanted to go downstairs, and it would be no laughing matter. At least if Dean were in control of himself.

Remembering that night when Dean had hurt him, remembering the lesson to stay submissive, Sam vowed he would no matter what. He smiled back, just as casually, though every muscle in his body was so tense it hurt. “You know why, Dean. Just come with me.” Sam licked his lips, and put his hand out. “I’ll be with you. Promise.”

Dean’s eyes flickered down to the younger man’s mouth when Sam licked his lips, then traveled even further down to the hand held out to him, before slowly returning to his brother’s face. For a few long moments he merely stared at Sam, his expression never shifting. Until finally he sat up from his relaxed position on the couch and slowly stood up. Dean approached his brother in a slow easy manner, stopping only when he stood barely a foot from Sam. He didn’t take the younger man’s hand and the smile slipped from his face as he looked into his brother’s eyes.

“Do you think you can lie to me? I can hear your heart pounding. I can smell your fear…” Dean practically whispered as he leaned in closer to the younger man. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, like he was scenting Sam.

Quickly he lifted a hand to cup the back of his brother’s neck and dragged Sam up against him with a soft growl. Tilting his head to the side and sliding his lips down the side of his brother’s face and neck. Breathing in deeply again.

“Why are you afraid of me?” Dean asked, his question more a reprimand than inquiry.

Dean’s slow appraisal definitely had him nervous. The way he walked towards him, it reminded Sam too much of a predator stalking its prey. No that was ridiculous. This was his brother. And yet the look on Dean’s face as he deliberately ignored Sam’s outstretched hand was definitely unfriendly. Sam let his hand fall to his side.

He sucked his breath in, hardly daring to move as Dean leaned in and sniffed him. His heart was pounding out of control, and there wasn’t a damned thing Sam could do about it. The words, whispered over his ear sent a shiver down his back. Was he imagining the edge to them?

Swallowing, Sam struggled not to pull away when he Dean tugged him close by the neck and he found himself pressed up against a wall of immovable muscle, the danger of the moment punctuated by the inhuman growl from Dean.

Sam’s chest rose and fell, though he tried to control his breathing, even when Dean’s mouth traveled up and down his face and throat. His eyes widened at the question.

“I’m not, Dean.” He didn’t dare move, and spoke close to his brother’s ear. “I just… I really think we need to do this, go downstairs.” What was he supposed to say? I want to put you in a cage? Chain you up like an animal. Like that was going to go over well. “We can talk there. The rest of the night, if you like.”

Dean hummed softly, as though he was considering Sam’s words but didn’t reply. He simply continued nuzzling against the younger man’s neck. Licking slowly over the spot where his brother’s pulse pounded strongly against his tongue.

Finally Dean pulled back, though he didn’t step away or release the younger man. Just far enough so that he could look at Sam straight in the eyes. Close enough that his every exhaled breath warmed his brother’s lips. He wasn’t smiling.

“I think...” He finally said softly, slipping his other hand around Sam’s waist, holding his brother even more securely to him if it were possible, as he began to back the younger man up. “We can ‘talk’ right here...”

Dean had backed Sam up against the door, then kicked his legs apart a little more to bring them more to an even height. Using the weight of his body he pinned the younger man up against the hard wood.

“So... Start talking, Sammy...” Dean whispered, his voice more amused now, though he didn’t actually let his brother reply. Instead covering Sam’s mouth with his own and forcing his tongue past his brother’s lips with a low growl.

The wet lick had Sam on edge. As if that wasn’t enough, Dean was in his face, holding him so damned close, using his body to corral him, to force him to walk backwards. If it weren’t for the situation, if there wasn’t the danger… if the older hunter weren’t just in the other room… yeah, then maybe his body's response would make sense.

But how could fear mingle with arousal like this? Why was he getting hard despite all of the alarms going off in his brain at the sight of the yellow glint in his brother’s eyes and his sudden aggression, hidden as it was behind softly spoken words and requests? There was no question in Sam’s mind that if he tried to push Dean away, if he made any sudden moves, things would go south.

He was pushed into the door, his back pressing tightly against it, trapped between Dean’s unforgiving body and the equally immovable door. His eyes widened as Dean made him stand with his legs apart. He couldn’t read him, couldn’t read his unsmiling features and that made his heart beat even faster.

“Dean… Bobby,” he whispered, pleading even as Dean’s mouth descended over his. Any objection he had was quelled by Dean’s growl, and forceful thrust of his tongue. A soft moan escaped Sam, half protest and half submission. The heat between them was an unstoppable force, one Sam couldn’t fight, especially when he couldn’t just react, couldn’t push him, couldn’t straight-out tell him ‘no.’

“Mmm,” Sam started to kiss his brother back, but the way Dean’s tongue moved in his mouth, the way he took control, it was clear Dean was asserting his authority, making it clear this was going his way. As every corner of his mouth was probed, Sam finally put one arm around Dean’s shoulder, the other around his waist, chasing his brother’s tongue… swaying towards him until he ran out of breath.

When he pulled back, and took some air, he stared into Dean’s eyes. Still at a loss. “We can’t do this… not here, not now.” Applying just a little pressure, he started to push Dean away. “Come on bro, we don’t want to wake him or give him an eyeful, right?” Smiling, he put an arm around Dean, “let’s go.” Just because his pulse was out of control didn't mean he couldn't act casual... God he hoped his brother bought it.

Of course Dean caught the change in his brother’s scent. The spike of arousal as Dean pressed against him, kissed him. As pressed as close together as they were it was impossible for him to not feel Sam’s body responding. Sam’s soft moans and the way the younger man submitted to his kiss making his own body respond with desire. Desire he always felt for Sam even when they’d just finished making love so intensely not so long again. Despite the shower his brother taken he could still smell himself all over the younger man’s flesh, faint but there. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam was still wet inside from him…

Dean wanted more than just that faint smell of ownership on the younger man’s flesh proclaiming his brother as his, however. And though Sam was submitting to him, he could still taste, still smell, that bitter tang of fear. The younger man’s heart beating so fast not only with desire…

He didn’t like it. His mate should not be afraid of him.

When Sam started to push him away, he didn’t really hear the younger man’s words. He understood what they meant. That Sam was denying him. He just didn’t hear the actual words, and Dean growled again, louder. Grabbing the younger man by his shoulders and shoving him harder up against the door with a much louder thump.

“Why are you afraid of me?” Dean demanded, the low rumbling growl continuing through his words as he warned, “Don’t lie to me.”

Sam had already tensed, his jaw clenched tight as he was rammed back against the door with great force. The warning growls. The way Dean was in his face, his eyes blazing, and the repeated demand for the truth sent a new shard of fear through Sam.

Did dean have the capacity to think clearly at the moment? Would anything he said have a real impact? Or would this be a repeat of that night when Dean had been in a fever and nothing got through to him?

“Dean…” He started to pull away from the door but froze at the implacable look on Dean’s face. “I’m afraid because you told me to be. Remember? I want you to come downstairs because you said when you get like this, you need to be held.” A forced the word out, “chained.” He took a deep breath. “So you won’t hurt me. Like last time,” he said softly, tugging his tee up and slowly trying to turn to show him the damage he’d inflicted before.

The anger in Dean’s golden yellow eyes faded slightly, and was replaced by confusion when Sam began to stammer out the reasons why he was afraid. Because he had told him to be afraid? Why would he tell Sam to be afraid of him?

Chained... Dean stiffened and growled a little at that word, but he grew silent again quickly as Sam rushed on to explain. So he wouldn’t hurt Sam... like... last time?

Dean finally looked away from Sam’s eyes when the younger man began to pull up his shirt. His eyes traveling down the length of his brother’s body. He finally stepped away from the younger man enough to let his brother turn, even though he still crowded the younger man up against the door. When he finally saw, finally understood, what Sam was referring to, he grew very still.

The claw marks were his own and were not even a few days old. Barely healed at all it was probably a wonder that he had not broken open a few of the scabbed over wounds with their passionate love making or when he had pushed Sam up against the door. The wounds were not very deep, but probably still painful, still tender... With an intense feeling of regret, he realized that once the wounds were healed they would probably scar.

This was why Sam was afraid of him... because he thought Dean would hurt him...

Dean’s hands settled gently on the warm flesh of Sam’s back, his fingers spread out over the younger man’s ribs on either side of the parallel slashes. Pushing the younger man’s shirt up more. Moving slowly, Dean leaned down to brush his lips lightly over Sam’s shoulder blade, giving careful tender kisses and licks all around the wounded flesh. As though he could erase the marks and any pain associated with them with his touch alone.

Once he was done he straightened again and slipped his arms around Sam’s waist, pulling the younger man back against his chest, holding him as though he were made of the most fragile glass. He nuzzled his brother’s neck, just behind the younger man’s ear.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I did not mean to. Would never hurt you.” He whispered softly between kissing Sam gently. “I’ll go... downstairs... if it will make you less afraid...”

Just when Sam thought he was safe, that Dean was letting him turn, he was pretty much trapped again against the door. Dean didn’t have to push, he could and did use his body, positioning himself close, and not allowing him much space to move.

Holding his breath, he imagined he could feel the weight of Dean’s gaze traveling over his back, lingering on the still angry red marks. Blood. Dried blood. Would that trigger something bad... some deeper animalistic instincts? Hands flat against the wall, he leaned his forehead against it too, holding his breath.

The warm wet sensation of Dean’s tongue laving him wasn’t what he’d expected. So gentle, so loving, so at odds with that creepy coldness that had taken him over. “Dean?” he whispered, hesitating to even guess what was on his brother’s mind.

Then he was pulled flush against Dean’s body, his brother’s arms wrapped protectively around him. Then he was being kissed again, and whispered to. “I know, I know you are Dean. You didn’t mean to... you were sick,” he answered, nodding at his brother’s agreement to go downstairs. “Okay Dean.”

He didn’t want to make any sudden moves. Turning as slowly as if he were in a vat of molasses, he closed his eyes to the last remaining vestiges of deep yellow in Dean’s eyes, leaned in and kissed him. Sliding his hand over Dean’s he started to walk to the door leading to the basement.

True to his word, Dean didn’t protest of give him any trouble. As they negotiated the very narrow wooden stairway, he could feel Dean right behind him, as if he was ready to catch him... pull him back if he fell. Yeah maybe after what just went down, he ought be more worried about whether Dean would change his mind and attack, but there was too much history between them, and his first and most natural instinct was to trust his brother beyond all others.

They reached the bottom and Sam bit his lip at the dingy little room, and the cage. “I don’t think we need chains,” he said eventually, opening the creaking door. “Dean... I love you. We’re getting through this. It’s temporary.”

Dean had followed his brother passively down the stairs to the basement, though the second his eyes fell on the cage he tensed. Frozen in place and staring at the cold iron bars with not a little fear in his eyes. In there, he would be trapped. He would be helpless. Unable to defend himself or Sam. A cold sweat began to drip down the back of Dean’s neck and he clenched his fists at his side.

The younger man would never understand how hard it was for him to stand there in that dark room, where the walls themselves felt like they were going to close in on him, and not simply turn around and run back up the stairs. Out of the basement, out of the house, out into the open where he would be free. Not contained. Not imprisoned. Not trapped…

He’d been imprisoned for so long… chained…

His first instinct was to snarl and back away when the younger man went over to the cage and opened the door. The low growl had already started in his throat but he grew silent again quickly at Sam’s words… As though they were any real reassurance. All Dean felt was pain.

Because it was Sam’s fear of him, his belief that Dean would hurt him unless he was… contained… why Dean was here. Why, as hard as it was for him to do so, he slowly walked into that cage. His head bowed and defeat etched into every line of his body. Only to prove to Sam that he would not hurt him.

Dean crouched down at the back corner of the cage. His yellow eyes glinting with unshed tears as he finally looked up at the younger man, waiting for him to shut the door.

Sam might not be able to scent fear, but he damned well noticed Dean's hesitation. Confusion or indecision maybe. As he passed him, walking like an old man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Sam flashed back to another reaction Dean had before to being chained. Sheer panic when he'd found himself cuffed to the bed.

It wasn't only Dean who was being indecisive. Sam was about three seconds from telling him to get back out here, that they'd deal. That they could risk it… would find a way.

But that was his heart talking. His heart that was entwined ten ways from Sunday in Dean's sitch. The love of a brother, of a friend… of a lover, and a mate.. Weird how he'd pegged himself as that, without Dean ever calling him his mate. He just knew.

His own eyes stung as he watched his brother sit at the back wall, so alone… A lump rose in his throat, but he did what his gut, what his hunter's instinct told him to. He slowly closed the door and locked it, gaze never leaving his brother's defeated figure.

With leaden feet, he walked to the stairs and placed the key onto a nail in the wall, then came back. One hand curling around the cold bar, he spoke. "I'm not gonna leave you here alone Dean. I'm right here with you. Morning will come soon, the moon will go away."

He took a deep breath. "Remember that time we were out at some cabin… this place kind a reminds me of it, only it's ten times better? It didn't even have a bathroom? Remember when I went out to do my 'business' and I thought I heard an animal." He started to laugh. "I was trying to get zipped up so I could run back and your voice came at me from behind? I remember what you said. 'I got your back, Sammy.'" He smiled at the old memory. "Well Dean, I've got your back. Right here, right now. I swear man, I've got your back."

Dean looked slowly looked away from his brother as the younger man finally closed and locked the cage door. Trapping him inside. Like an animal… like he was a danger… Some part of him realized that Sam was doing the right thing. Some part of him was even pleased that the younger man was doing this. That part of him realized that he was not… like he normally was… was aware of the change. That part even knew that Sam had a good reason to be afraid…

That part was far away now, however. The part of him that was… awake… now didn’t understand why Sam, his mate, was afraid of him. It didn’t understand that the younger man was doing this as much for Dean’s protection as his own. It could only feel hurt by his brother’s lack of trust, not to mention devastated by the fear the younger man felt of him, and… afraid… of being locked away like this.

Bars. He hated bars. He hated chains. He hated being confined. The cage so small he could only walk a few steps in either direction. It was easier to remain still, in one place, the bars didn’t seem so close then. But it didn’t stop him from being afraid. Afraid of being trapped, afraid of being defenseless… But more than fear for himself, he feared for the one he loved that he could no longer protect.

Dean’s hands clenched into tighter fists, his finger nails had grown longer, sharper and they dug into his palm. The pain helped center him a little. Though the sound of the younger man walking away from him was like a stab to his heart with every step his brother took.

Sam had said he wouldn’t leave… Dean didn’t know if he could handle being in this cage all alone…

Dean looked up, the relief he felt when Sam returned and promised again he was not going to leave making him almost want to weep. Sam’s reassurances however made little sense to him. The moon? Dean glanced towards the small windows of the basement, but all he could see was darkness.

Yes, he could feel the moon, on some level he understood the changes, the power, that its cold silver light gave him. It called to him at an instinctual level. Almost as strong as his instinct to protect his mate. But he knew there was something wrong with the moon. It wasn’t… the right time. He only felt part of its power.

He shouldn’t be like this now. He should not be changed. But it had happened before. He had changed a little, when something was wrong… wrong with his mate… The first time when he had thought Sam loved another, the second when he’d been sick and thought Sam was leaving him, now…

Dean had been so focused upon Sam, so focused on trying to understand why Sam was afraid of [i]him[/I,] he hadn’t bothered to consider anything else. Dean did now. He focused all of his senses as much as he could outside of this room. Dean sat up straighter, sniffing the air, listening for the faintest sound outside. Wind. Leaves blowing. A rustle. A creak. It could be nothing. It could be…

Dean stood up abruptly, the animalistic growl rumbling from his chest the only warning before they heard the gun shots from upstairs.

Deep down, Sam knew he shouldn’t feel hurt just because Dean wasn’t reacting. Wasn’t acknowledging the memory, or agreeing that Sam would watch over him. His brother seemed distinctly withdrawn, disconnected, just as he had from the moment his eyes had changed. It was disconcerting… scary not to know how much Dean understood at this point, and how much the animal had taken over. Yeah, he had come down here, almost as a favor to him, but did he understand why? And did he get what Sam was saying now?

Then there was a greater change in Dean. He seemed to suddenly tense, standing stock still and looking up the stairs.

Before Sam could get out a ‘what?’ His brother growled, and the sound of shots came at them from upstairs. Running to the bottom of the stairs, Sam shouted, “Bobby?!”

The older hunter’s shout of ‘company’ had Sam looking over at Dean. “I’ll be back, I swear Dean. Just have to …” He could see nothing he said would make sense or satisfy Dean… even Dean non-wolfy Dean, he just raced up the stairs vowing he’d make it up to his brother.

Scrambling to the top, he grabbed one of the guns Dean had cleaned and left on the table. “What’s happening?!” he shouted, seeing the window had been shot in and Bobby was at the door, had it open a crack and his barrel was pointing out. “Hunters?”

Bobby had woken up thanks to the loud banging around the two brothers were making in the other room. Finally the older hunter had dragged himself out of his nice warm bed, grumbling and cursing under his breath the entire time as he threw on a robe so he could go out there and knock the two knucklehead’s heads together for messing around.

Only the living room of the cabin was empty and he started up the stairs to the second floor anyway, figuring the two idjits had gone to bed. But if they were going to wake him up at the ass crack of dawn then turn about was fair play, besides, one of them should have been up, or at least woken him up to take watch. There was too many god damned fanatical hunters out there looking to put a few holes into the oldest Winchester boy to get sloppy.

The thought had barely formed in Bobby’s mind before he thought he saw a shadow pass by the window of the front door and heard the soft clicking of the lock being worked open. Bobby didn’t hesitate. Seeing the guns lined up on the coffee table in the living room he grabbed one of them, had a clip slapped in it within seconds and fired.

The first return shot came through the window, but it was obviously aiming randomly, it was dark enough inside the cabin that the intruders couldn’t see him. Bobby dove behind the couch all the same, because there was always a chance they could get lucky. Bobby heard Sam’s worried shout from downstairs, what the hell were the boys doing downstairs?! But he shouted back, “Company!”

The second shot wasn’t aimed for him at all. Subtlety obviously no longer a concern, they blew open the lock on the door and Bobby shot the first one that tried to come through the door in the leg. Idiot. It was the last warning shot that Bobby was prepared to give. The man fell back, cursing profusely and his partner was dragging him away from the door that was now swinging open.

Bobby had no doubt they weren’t retreating, at least not for long, and he was proved right when he dove out from behind the couch to get the damned door shut and several more gun shots from came at him from the tree line. At least he managed to get the damned door shut.

Bobby was aiming out the slightly ajar door and trying to get a bead on just how many intruders they were going to have to deal with when he heard the near animalistic howls start downstairs and seconds later Sam was there beside him with his own weapon drawn. Bobby had no doubt the howls were coming from Dean but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now, no matter how they chilled his blood.

“That’d be my guess.” Bobby grunted as he peered outside but he couldn’t see shit. “They ain’t gonna stay put for long. Get upstairs. See if you can’t get a better look what’s going on.”

The howling was heart wrenching for Sam, because he knew the reason. He’d broken his promise to his brother. He’d walked out on him. How many times had Dean told him he couldn’t stand that? How many times in just the last few days? It didn’t make it any better that he had no choice. None.

The look in Bobby’s eyes, the one he glimpsed for a fraction of a second scared the shit out of him. Made him almost glad they had other company. Yeah, he knew Bobby well, should trust him... did trust him. But he was a hunter through and through. Just like a part of Sam didn’t completely trust dad not to put a bullet through Dean’s head, he didn’t trust Bobby not to. These men were hunters through and through, and they knew to do the ‘hard thing’ when it came time to. He couldn’t help worrying... just couldn’t, even if he loved and otherwise trusted them with his own life, he couldn’t trust them with Dean’s. Not fully.

Taking Bobby’s place at the door, he tried to see in the dark. There was a momentary glint of metal reflecting the moon. He shot, and had to go behind the wall to get away from the return shots. Another shot came through a window in a different direction, which told him there were at least two out there.

“We can’t stay like this.” He looked over his shoulder at Bobby. “They’ll have us holed up in here until they get reinforcements, and then...” He nodded toward the stairs. “There’s a small window, faces the back. You keep them busy, I’m going to climb out and see if I can circle behind them.”

He knew would have fucking cow. He also knew Dean would do the same in the same situation.

Sam was gone... he had left...

He had promised not to leave, yet he had left. Left him down here alone. Left him in this cage. Trapped...

Dean didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was that there was danger. He was in danger. Sam was in danger, and he couldn’t protect him. He couldn’t protect him because he was trapped in this cage. Because Sam had left him in this cage...

Dean howled after Sam in rage, pain, and fear as the younger man ran up the stairs. He grabbed and shook the bars with all his might. He clawed at the lock until his fingers bled. When that didn’t work, he threw his whole body against them but the door to his cage did not budge an inch.

Bruised and bloodied he stalked back and forth in front of the door, growling and whimpering, but Sam did not return. Dean howled as though he were dying, but Sam still didn’t return.

He was alone... Sam had left him... left him...

***

Bobby cursed at the shots that came in two different directions, confirming what he had feared. He already knew there were at least two hunters out there. Most likely more, and Sam was right. There was nowhere they could run and if they couldn’t get inside all they had to do was keep them pinned down till even more reinforcements arrived. He and Sam would be sitting ducks. Maybe they would leave him and John’s youngest alive, but Dean they’d shoot on the spot. They had to end this now, before the hunters could get smart and let others know where they were.

Sam’s plan was almost suicide since they didn’t know where they were or how many were out there but they didn’t have much of a choice at this point. Bobby finally nodded.

“Go. I’ll cover you best I can from here.”

One more loud howl from his brother, and Sam nodded at Bobby. “Good luck. And Bobby, if they get in here...” He nodded toward the basement, and left the rest unsaid.

Climbing the stairs to at a time, he could have wept at the sight of their bunk bed, the blankets hanging of the side. They hadn’t had a chance to clean up yet, and he could still smell their sex in the air.

No... last night had been special. No one, and nothing was going to take this away from them.

His expression hardening, Sam determinedly moved to the window. He put a pillow against it, waiting to see if anyone would take a shot. When they didn’t, he opened it as quietly as he could.

Shots rang out, but they were still from the front of the house. Half sliding down the slanted room, he caught the ledge with one hand, hanged down off its side, and dropped down to the ground.

Nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, he gripped the rifle tighter and checked the hand gun at his back. Looking around, he made a run for the forest, and started circling around.

The sound of shots increased. Bobby must know he was out here and he was drawing fire, both to keep the others off his tail, and so he could find them.

He saw the first hunter. Same one as he’d run into at the bar. The one that had let him go. A sick feeling settled low in Sam’s stomach as he took aim, waited, then squeezed the trigger. He hit the guy, but the injured man was running.

Other shots were fired, some in his direction, some at the house. He ducked behind a tree, waited, and then ran. None of them could leave this place. A deal ... none of them would make one, Bobby had said they were fanatics.

Three men, including the injured one converged and started to rush the house, shooting like they were going to get past whoever was at the door. Sam chased them, shouting, “Bobby,” stopping, aiming, and firing, and firing again... old lessons, ingrained deeply from childhood, surfacing and being put to use. For Dean... for them...

Bobby gave a grim nod to Sam’s “instructions” not that it was needed. He wasn’t about to let those fanatical hunters get their hands on John’s oldest boy. If he thought of John Winchester as a brother, then he definitely thought of these two knuckleheads as adopted nephews.

The older hunter then turned his attention back to the door and the woods beyond, ignoring the racket that Dean was making downstairs. Just as he tried to ignore the fact that the boy had apparently changed, gone a lot more wolf, and it wasn’t even the full moon yet! How the hell?! But that was a whole ‘nother sticky situation that he couldn’t deal with at this point in time.

Though he had to admit when the boy suddenly stopped he was almost more worried than when he was howling like someone was torturing him. Bobby couldn’t afford to leave his post to go check on Dean however. Sam was counting on him. Dean was counting on him too even if the boy had no idea what was going on right now.

Knowing Sam was probably well on his way outside by now, Bobby started taking random pop shots out into the darkness, ducking away from the windows when the shots were returned. Giving Sam the distraction he needed, and letting him know where their enemies were. At least from what he could tell, all the shots were still coming his way and not Sam’s.

Then he heard more gunshots, from a different direction, and knew they were Sam’s. He heard one shout of pain. Didn’t sound like Sam but Bobby couldn’t be sure, and his gut clenched. Then the men broke cover from the trees, trying to rush the house. Probably figuring they had a better chance with only one person guarding the door. Morons. How they’d lasted this long in the business, Bobby wasn’t sure. He almost felt sorry for them. Actually, he did feel sorry for them. But certainly not enough to just let them do what they’d come here to do. Kill Dean…

Bobby took aim at the first man, the limping one he’d shot before in the leg, and pulled the trigger. The man’s head immediately snapped back and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, perfect head shot. No more warning shots. Another man fell to his knees, clutching the bloody hole in his chest before pitching forward. Bobby knew the shot had come from Sam. The last man was close enough Bobby could see the fear in his eyes, indecision, probably considering dropping his gun and throwing up his hands in surrender. Bobby didn’t give him a chance to, shooting him through the heart. They’d had their chances, when they’d gone after Sam twice. They could have quit then. Instead they’d come here.

The older hunter waited a long time, seeing if any more gunfire from possibly any more intruders would erupt, but the woods around the cabin remained silent. Finally Bobby stood up and opened the door. Sighing and running his hand through his thinning hair. Stupid bastards.

“You ok, Sam?” The older man finally called.

It was easier to fire shots in the heat of battle, than to accept the results afterwards.

Once the gunshots died down, Sam walked to the three men, dropping to his knees and putting his hand on their throats to check for a pulse. He knew Bobby was calling him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t answer. His heart was beating heavily against his chest.

He stared at the blood on his palm and fought a wave of nausea. He’d run away from a life of killing things, and now he had killed people. Humans. Did it really matter which ones had been killed by his bullets and which ones by Bobby’s?

An almost overwhelming urge to turn himself in, to admit what he’d done swept over him. He knew it was illogical, that he’d never succumb to it... but there it was, he couldn’t deny those feelings. It was followed by deep shame. He closed each of the dead hunters’ eyes with a slightly shaky hand.

As he headed back, he told himself they’d had no choice. It had been an ‘us or them’ situation, and they’d created it. He stuffed everything he was feeling deep down inside him, telling himself he couldn’t lose focus. There was a lot to be done yet. Bodies to be buried, cars to get rid of, an alpha wolf to sooth. He couldn’t afford to fall apart or to feel sorry for himself or be so guilt-ridden he couldn’t function or be useful.

He walked in, passing Bobby and hardly meeting the hunter’s eyes with his own. “I’ll be back to take care of...”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but he dropped the rifle onto the table and headed straight for the doorway to the stairs to the small basement. Taking them two at a time, he reached the bottom and saw Dean in the corner, completely silent.

Grabbing the key off the wall hook, he unlocked the cage. Once inside, he quickly locked the cage again and tossed the key to near the floor of the stairs.

“Dean.” As he grabbed his brother, pulled him into his embrace, he couldn’t care less that Dean might be in half wolf state, where reasoning became vary difficult. “Dean, I’m sorry... I had to... I’m sorry,” he whispered again and again, holding him tight. “Forgive me, please forgive me...”

Dean’s desperate howls of anger and frustration finally died down to painful whimpers as tried again and again to get out of the cage and nothing worked. The sounds coming from upstairs only made the panic he felt worse and it was making it harder and harder for him to understand what was happening.

All he knew was there was danger. His mate was in danger. His mate was gone and he couldn’t go to him, couldn’t find him, because he was trapped…

Dean threw himself against the bars of the cage one final time, barely managing to bite down the cry of real pain that threatened to escape him when he felt something in his shoulder give. The painful black and blue bruising from his repeated attempts to force the door open and his scraped fingers and knuckles nothing compared to the new fiery agony and he knew he had either dislocated or broken something.

The crushing defeat and despair he felt as he cradled his arm and sank down into one corner of the cage was almost worse than the physical pain however. He whimpered to himself softly for a time but then grew silent. Maybe because the noise upstairs had finally stopped…

Dean didn’t move, even to lift his head, when he heard the footsteps hurrying back down the stairs. He sniffed the air but didn’t even look up when he heard the door to the cage creek open. If he wasn’t hurting so much he might have jumped up and ran out the door as soon as it opened, but he didn’t move. He didn’t need to. Sam was here…

When he felt the warm arms encircle him he flinched a little but didn’t pull away, instead leaning into the comforting warmth with a soft whimper. He buried his face against the younger man’s throat, smelling blood on Sam. Not Sam’s blood. Someone else’s. He smelled death…

He didn’t care. He only cared that Sam was back. Sam was alive...

"It's alright, all over now," Sam whispered. "I'm right here, right here." Feeling Dean lean into him and make soft sounds, he was a little reassured that Dean wasn't so out of it that he didn't know what was happening.

He started to tell him what happened, explained why he had to leave. Stumbled over his words when he said what he'd done... killed. "You're safe now, that's what's important." He held him a couple of minutes longer then pulled away slightly to look at him.

Dean had been fine when he went into the cage, and now... he was scraped and bloodied, and bruised. "What did you do to yourself?" Sam asked softly. "God Dean..." Eaten by guilt, he pulled his brother into his embrace again, this time dipping his head down and kissing him thoroughly.

Vaguely, he heard the door open and footsteps coming down the wooden stairs. Breaking the kiss, he quickly put his head on Dean's shoulder, but kept hold of him. "He's alright Bobby, everything is gonna be alright," he said, still holding his brother.

Bobby had watched Sam kneeling over the dead hunters and sighed heavily. Knowing the boy was being eaten by guilt over what he had done, but what could he say? Especially when Bobby was sure he was feeling much the same guilt over the situation as the young man was. Sam already knew they’d had no choice. They both knew that. But that wouldn’t ease the guilt or blame any of them felt over having to take a human life. Hunters at that. The “good” guys. For the most part, anyway even if they were stupid bastards. Hell, if it had been Bobby hunting down a werewolf, and that werewolf had been anyone but Dean…

But it was Dean. And though Bobby might regret how things had gone down, he wasn’t going to feel sorry for it. He’d do the same thing over again if he had to. But at least he and Sam could give these men a decent burial.

Bobby sighed again, giving the boy a brief nod as Sam went past him to go check on Dean. He was more than a little worried about the elder Winchester brother and would have gone down himself but other things had to be taken care of. So Bobby went back to his own room to get some clothes on, if he was going to be digging graves tonight it wasn’t going to be in his robe.

Then he went outside and dragged the bodies over to a spot near the tree line. They’d have to take the bodies deeper into the woods to bury them. Then Bobby went to the shed and retrieved two shovels.

When Sam still hadn’t emerged from the cabin when Bobby was done he began to grow more than a little worried and headed back inside.

“Sam?” No answer. God damn it. Bobby refused to draw his gun as he quickly went to the basement door and descended the stairs. He refused to… however he almost wished he had when he saw that Sam was inside the cage with his brother, and he saw Dean look up at him with blazing golden eyes and growl threateningly Bobby felt his blood turn to ice.

“Sam! What the fuck… Get out of there!” Bobby yelled, and even as it made him sick, he felt his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon he’d tucked into his jeans. His yell and the movement instantly had Dean on his feet, standing in front of Sam. Still cradling his wounded arm, but snarling viciously at the older man.

“No!” Sam tried to get around Dean but his brother shifted over so fast, he was blocked. “No, Bobby, he’s fine.” The snarl, the yellow eyes, that stare, that expression that made Dean look like he wasn’t connecting, wasn’t understanding, that’s what he was showing Bobby.

“Don’t,” Sam looked at the older hunter. “He’s just... he’s overprotective of me. This is about me,” he said truthfully. “All he’s done all his life is protect me, and it’s the same now. That’s why I stayed, and dad left. Please...”

His eyes plead with Bobby’s, begging him to see the truth. He knew this was a powder keg. If he knew Bobby, that gun had silver bullets. And if he thought for one instant that Sam was in danger of getting bitten, or anything else, it could be over for Dean.

Slowly, Sam put his arm around Dean’s waist. “It’s alright, you know Bobby’s not going to hurt me. We fought of other hunters, together. Sit down, Dean. I’m right here. Right here,” he whispered, his fingers curling into Dean’s waist more intimately.

Everything the hunter inside of him knew about werewolves told Bobby to pull the damned trigger. Everything else inside of him that knew about Dean was screaming for him to stop. Indecision warred within him, every second he wasted he knew he could be putting Sam’s life in even more danger, and the younger man was pleading with him not to shoot. Worried about Bobby killing Dean when Bobby was worried about Dean killing Sam and… if he believed Sam’s words… Dean was worried about Bobby killing Sam.

If it wasn’t so insane he would have laughed… or cried…

But Sam would have been begging for the same thing, even if Dean was inches away from ripping out his throat. But Bobby had eyes in his head and he could see clearly enough that Dean wasn’t doing that. Dean was growling at him, the one holding the weapon, not Sam. Before he’d come down the stairs all the way he had seen the younger men curled up together in the corner, right before Dean had jumped up to… protect Sam.

Bobby almost couldn’t believe it, but it was hard when the proof was staring him right in the face. When Sam put his arm around Dean and Dean allowed it. Leaning a little into the embrace that looked all too intimate all of a sudden but the older hunter chased those thoughts away ruthlessly.

Taking a deep breath, praying to every deity he could think of that Sam was right, and he wasn’t completely crazy for listening, he lowered the gun. As soon as he did, Dean’s vicious growls all but stopped but he still looked at Bobby warily.

Then Bobby didn’t know whether to feel horrified or blush when Dean turned into Sam and began nuzzling against his neck.

Sam held his breath as Bobby’s expression remained skeptical. The hunter finally lowered his weapon, though, and Dean became less aggressive, only his eyes tracking the hunter with a warning in them, but otherwise quiet. “That’s good, Dean,” Sam nodded, wondering just how much Dean understood of his speech.

Then Dean buried his face in his throat, and Sam met Bobby’s gaze. He didn’t flinch away from it, and instead brought his free hand behind Dean’s head, stroking his hair. “Bobby’s cool. Nothing to worry about now.”

He could see the questions in the elder hunter’s eyes. “It’s a wolf thing,” he gave a slight shrug, like it didn’t matter. And it didn’t, not to him. Even if they hadn’t been in a relationship, if Dean needed this, he’d have given it to him.

“I tossed the keys by the stairs. I don’t think...” he looked at Dean, then back at Bobby. “I’m gonna have to stay until morning.” He figured there was maybe an hour to two hours before sun up. “I’ll dig the graves then,” he nodded. “Dean and I can do that, and get rid of their cars.”

He didn’t want Bobby to have to do all that on his own, but now that he was here in the cell, he knew... he knew in his gut it would be bad to agitate Dean again. He’d keep him calm until morning, and then things would be normal again.

“You should go upstairs. He’ll be calmer if its just us,” he said gently, mostly worried about Dean demonstrating his feelings. If it happened, it happened. But best of all possible worlds was no one knowing. No one would understand. They’d think he’d been coerced, that he was sacrificing himself. He knew there wasn’t a thing he could say that would convince Bobby or his dad otherwise, if it came to that. “Come back and get us.”

Bobby watched the interaction between the two brothers, honestly not knowing what to think. His eyes glanced down towards the floor when Sam mentioned the key and saw it. The older man found he was reluctant to bend down to pick it up, he was reluctant to move at all and risk setting off Dean again. Considering right now he seemed more or less calm. Far from normal, but… docile.

The older hunter certainly didn’t like the idea of Sam staying in there till morning. He liked the idea of leaving Sam down here alone with a partially wolfed out Dean about a hundred times less. Though from the appearance of the older brother Bobby could see it was important to try to keep Dean calm, but even as docile as Dean appeared right now he was still a danger to Sam.

What if he suddenly became agitated again and tried to attack Sam? Bit him? He wanted to insist that Sam at least take his gun so he could protect himself, but Bobby had the feeling if Dean saw him raise it again for any reason he wouldn’t be happy.

Fuck, John was going to kill him for even considering…

“I’ll be upstairs. I’ll start taking care of things, you boys can finish up.” Bobby had to practically force out every single word and it was even harder for him to turn around slowly and start back up the stairs.

Dean lifted his head, watching Bobby, but he didn’t growl or snarl at him again. As soon as the older man was gone, Dean went back to nuzzling his brother’s neck.

Seeing Bobby struggle with indecision, Sam was half afraid that he wouldn’t listen. That he’d insist on staying. Or worse, the he’d try to get him to come out of the cage. He sensed that Dean was still on edge, that even a hint that he would leave with Bobby would stir the beast.

When Bobby reluctantly agreed, Sam let his breath out. “Thanks Bobby.” He heard the man trudge up the stairs, and added. “It’s gonna be alright, I’ve got this handled.”

The door closed, and his brother’s face was in his throat again. Sam dipped his face down and kissed him on the mouth. “Your arm. Do you want me to take care of it?” he asked softly. The rest of the scratches and bruises would heal quickly, he knew that. But a dislocated arm had to be put back… it wouldn’t heal alone.

He moved his hand over Dean’s arm, touching him gently, eyes wary and fixed on his brother’s in case there was any warning. “Do you understand, Dean? I can put this back, but it will hurt. What do you want?”

Dean sighed and lifted his face a little when Sam’s lips met his own, a soft content sound like a purr escaping from his throat as he relaxed even more in the younger man’s arms. Calmer now that the other man was gone and it was just him and his brother once more. Just him and his mate…

He made a soft sound of protest when Sam pulled away slightly in order to speak. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want Sam to talk either. He just wanted to savor the taste and feel of the younger man. He just wanted to forget about the pain. He wanted to forget the fear from when Sam had left him.

Sam was safe with him again, that was all that mattered.

Though when Sam moved to touch his arm, Dean couldn’t help the slight flinch away from it. His arm hurt and he didn’t want it touched. But a part of him listened, struggling to understand what Sam was saying. Take care of… Sam wanted to take care of him, he trusted Sam…

So Dean hesitantly turned to offer the younger man his wounded arm.

Sensing that Dean hadn’t wanted him to pull away, Sam kept himself close to Dean. He ran his hand over his brother’s face as he waited for his decision. He hoped Dean understood.

“I know it hurts,” he said gently, taking the arm Dean finally offered. He looked at his brother’s shoulder, sloped and clearly out of joint. Having gone through this before, he knew well how much pain Dean had to be in.

Slowly, he bent Dean’s elbow into a ninety degree angle with Dean’s hand on his stomach. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, knowing that just because that was his intentions, didn’t mean it would work out.

He started to tug downwards on Dean’s arm, pulling it toward the floor and rotating his arm at the same time. “Gonna be alright, just a little more,” he crooned, hoping Dean wouldn’t snap. He got that this wasn’t only Dean he was dealing with here. And yeah, he expected... believed his brother would rein in the wolf, but deep down he knew ... knew it could be beyond Dean’s control.

He pulled harder, slipped the joint into place... no... one more try, and he released the arm, letting Dean’s shoulder naturally slide into place. “There... should feel better,” he said, knowing the relief would be immediate. “Dean?” He looked into is face.

Dean didn’t flinch away when Sam touched his arm again, even though it hurt the way the younger man moved it. He couldn’t stop the small whimper of pain that escaped his throat, but he didn’t growl. Not even when Sam started tugging on his arm and Dean had to grit his teeth so hard it was a wonder none of them cracked to keep himself from crying out in pain.

He almost pulled away after the first tug, but Sam’s soft soothing voice kept him still. The part of him deep inside knowing that this had to be done, it was the only way to make the hurting stop, even though it hurt more now than before.

When the joint finally popped back into place on the third tug on his arm Dean simply couldn’t stop the hiss of pain that escaped through his teeth. When Sam finally released him he sagged back against the bars, breathing heavily and sweating. His eyes squeezed tightly closed and he didn’t open them again until the younger man said his name softly.

As he opened his eyes and his gaze locked with Sam’s, he tested his arm. It was sore, but didn’t hurt like before. Sam had fixed him. He offered the younger man a weak smile as he stepped closer to Sam and wrapped both arms around his brother’s tightly.

Better… yes, much better. With a soft purr he leaned into the younger man and captured Sam’s lips in a heated kiss.

Sam watched intently as Dean rested against the bars, eyes closed. Was he trying to master the pain, or was he struggling with something else? When Dean opened his eyes and moving his arm, smiled, Sam nodded, smiling back. It was his brother... and he understood and...

Just like that, Dean was pressed up against him, his arms like steel bands around him, pulling him close. No words were exchanged, he knew what Dean wanted. Let it happen.

Mouth to mouth. Tongues darting in and out, twisting... dancing. Sam groaned, gripping Dean’s shirt, holding on as he gave as good as he got. He ran his tongue along Dean’s teeth, dipping inside to stroke his pallet, to map out every sweet hot corner, memorize his taste. He knew he should stop, that they should... but Dean was turning into an addition he really didn’t know yet how to control.

“Dean... Bobby...” he muttered against his brother’s lips, hoping one of them would see reason and pull away. “Should stop... oh God,” he felt Dean’s mouth against his throat, felt his heart slamming against his chest, so good... why was it so good between them? Even when he should be scared, should be cautious. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dean licked inside his brother’s mouth and moaned, savoring the taste of his brother as he explored every inch of Sam’s mouth. His fingers tightening on the younger man’s lower back, pulling their bodies even closer together as Sam kissed him back. He allowed his brother’s tongue entrance into his mouth to explore him just as thoroughly, sucking on Sam’s tongue and moaning at the exquisite taste of his brother.

Sam… he could smell the younger man’s arousal. Even before his hands slid down further, underneath the back of his brother’s jeans to cup his ass and squeeze. Rubbing his stiffening cock against the younger man as he kissed and nipped a wet path from Sam’s lips to his neck. Growling softly as he bit and sucked, feeling Sam’s heartbeat under his tongue, knowing it was beating faster for him. His… Always his… his Sammy…

Stop? No, no he didn’t want to stop. Dean growled softly and bit down a little harder on the younger man’s neck. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted Sam now. Like this. Right here. Licking away the small indents his teeth had left on the younger man’s flesh he began to sink to his knees, tugging Sam down with him as he went. His hands leaving Sam’s buttocks and his mouth leaving Sam’s neck just long enough to yank off the younger man’s shirt over his head. He licked his lips hungrily as his eyes feasted on Sam’s bare chest.

He needed this now. After all the adrenaline and fear he needed this right now. Dean all but ripped off his own shirt before he pushed Sam back, following him down and sealing his lips over the younger man’s again. Kissing him hard and deep as he pushed their chests together, grinding his hips down between his brother’s legs and growling in pleasure and need… and possession. Reminding Sam who he belonged to always.

Strong hands gripping his ass, bringing him up hard against Dean’s frame, making it impossible for him not to register the hard proof of Dean’s arousal pressing... rubbing into him, as Dean slowly drove him nuts with those wet kisses and licks, his almost bites along the sensitive column of his throat. His entire body surged in response, pressing back. “This... this isn’t stopping,” he made a weak protest, not wanting to stop, not wanting Dean to pull away.

Maybe they could just get in a long, hot kissing session. Just like this. He’d hear the door open, he could pull away when necessary. That’s what Sam told himself even as Dean kept winding him up.

His suggestion that they needed to stop didn’t go over well. He felt Dean’s displeasure in that bite, his heart slamming against his chest as his hand moved up to confirm there was no broken skin. Sam’s fingers met Dean’s tongue, hot and wet, stabbing between his fingers as he continued to lick his neck. “Oh God... Dean.”

Before he could tell Dean this was going too far, his brother stripped him of his shirt and was staring at him with a hunger so deep, it took Sam’s breath away. “Dean... I”

It was as if his brother never heard him. One minute they were standing, and then next, he was dragged to the floor and Dean’s weight pressed down over him, their mouths melded in another mind melting kiss. His hands went to dean’s hips, moving up his bare sides as he lifted his hips, a groan tearing from the back of his throat as their jeans covered cocks dragged against each other.

The manhandling... the firm, insistent kisses... touches, the growls... Sam knew Dean was going ‘cave man’ on him. Proving who belonged to whom, as if there was a question. As if he couldn’t tell that Sam liked being mastered... needed it, needed it from his brother. Their mouths slid off each other, Sam panted out hot breaths against Dean’s ear. Feeling his brother’s hand move between them, to his fly, Sam grabbed his wrist. “Oh God... oh God, I want to Dean, I do ... but...”

Sam’s hand catching his wrist, the younger man stopping him from removing the offending fabric that kept his brother’s flesh from him, brought forth a snarl from the older man as he lifted his head. Dean’s eyes flashing in the dim light as they locked with his brother’s, narrowing slightly, as he shook off the hold and yanked down the zipper of Sam’s fly purposefully. His eyes never leaving Sam’s as he grasped the waistband of his brother’s jeans and underwear, tugging them down and off the younger man’s legs completely. Leaving Sam fully bare to his eyes and hands, to look and touch wherever he wished.

Dean licked his lips, watching Sam intently, as he unbuttoned and pushed his own jeans down his thighs. His cock springing up, hard, and already leaking at the tip. Not wasting a moment he grabbed Sam’s thighs and pushed them apart and pulling Sam closer to him at the same time. His fingers practically bruising, leaving matching marks on his brother’s skin as from earlier.

When he covered Sam with his body again there was nothing but skin on skin everywhere they met and Dean moaned as he dragged his hot throbbing flesh alongside his brother’s. He covered Sam’s lips with his own again and practically fucked his mouth with his tongue as their cocks slid together, trapped between them, leaving damp trails along each other’s skin.

“Sam…” He sighed his brother’s name when they finally parted. The first word that he’d spoken since Sam had first led him down here.