Hours had to have gone by. He didn't have a watch on but he guessed maybe it was about nine or ten. It was pitch black out here, with only the porch lights from distant houses dotting the street, and the occasional streak of lights from a passing car.

Idiot. Would have been so much better to just have kept going once he was in town. No, he'd thought Dean would want food... he'd pretty much rejected that. Then he'd shown him how much he hated him.

Eyes squeezed tight, Sam tried to think when he'd first noticed that sometimes Dean acted like he couldn't stand being in the same room. He'd told himself it was his imagination, because most of the time his brother was... normal. Helping him the best he could. Playing the referee between him and his dad, and getting along except when he overdid his 'dad's soldier boy' act.

The thought of how kind and wonderful Dean could be, how he was the only one Sam could count had new tears rolling down his cheeks. Things changed. He wasn't the cute little kid that followed Dean around anymore, now he was just the 'pain in his ass.'

He didn't know quite when he realized that the hot moisture on his cheeks weren't just tears. It started to rain. Great. Curling up onto the bus stop bench, and resting his head on the back, tears mixing with the rain. Once, his big brother would have come after him, wrapped his strong arms around him and told him everything would be fine. He'd have made it all better, made the hurt go away. Now he caused a lot of it, never took anything back. Now it was like Sam was the enemy.

"Fine Dean... have a happy life." He nodded, and even if he was bitter, he meant it. He really did.

He didn't know how long he remained there. When he finally did move, he did not feel like his body was under his control. He felt like a zombie. His mind completely disconnected from all thought, his body moving only on instinct. His entire body felt numb as he pushed himself up and stumbled out of the tub and at the same time every inch of him ached. His fingers fumbled to turn off the water in the shower because they were shaking so much. His legs felt like water beneath him and he wasn't exactly sure how he remained standing at all.

He hurt everywhere. Mind, body, and soul and he just wanted the pain to go away. That's why he opened the cupboard under the sink and took out the first aid kit. Opening it and grabbing the first bottle of painkillers he found, he didn't even care which ones they were. Then he walked out of the bathroom, down the hall to the kitchen. Not bothering to cover up because he was alone. He opened up a cupboard and took down his father's bottle of jack.

With the pills and the liquor Dean made his way into the living room and sat down on the couch. The untouched food and Sam's barely eaten meal were still there and Dean kicked at the rickety coffee table violently. Tipping it over and spilling everything onto the floor but he didn't care.

He snapped open the bottle of pills and upended it into his mouth, not sure exactly how many he swallowed down with a long pull from the jack. The liquor burned and numbed his throat at the same time. Soon he knew he would be completely numb, he wouldn't be able to feel anything and that's what he wanted.

He was tired of feeling hurt, guilty, and ashamed. He was sick. He was a monster. That had to be why Sam hated him so much now. His brother must have realized the twisted thoughts going on in his head. Sensed them, if not understood them, and was disgusted. Why wouldn't he be? His own brother lusting after him… no wonder Sam wanted to leave, had left… Maybe Sam would be better off...

He was too numb to feel the tears spilling down his cheeks again. Dean dropped the empty pill bottle and stretched out on the couch, occasionally drinking from the bottle of Jack Daniels, polishing off a good quarter of the hard liquor before he knew it. His Dad was going to kill him for not looking after Sammy, for the sick twisted thoughts going through his head, for letting Sam leave…

Maybe his Dad wouldn't have to…

The pain... the self hatred... the emotions were so thick in the air, they fanned his needs, igniting his desire to feed. Dean... such a lovely source of energy... so ripe for the taking, and he wasn’t about to resist. Having left ‘feelers’ around his prey and able to sift through Dean’s mind and emotions, he knew exactly what had the elder Winchester in knots.... his younger brother, always Sam. Fool... he’d let Sam go. But he wouldn’t allow that, not when Sam was the source of these intense emotions.

Dropping down next to the couch and sitting on the floor, he was the spitting image of young Sam Winchester. Almond shaped hazel eyes set at an angle, sharp features and a jaw that would in the future become more prominent. A slender, lanky build, with well-defined muscles. Nothing could distinguish him from the real thing. Not his voice, not his mannerisms, and not his taste or scent. For all intents and purposes, he was Sam.

He sat shirtless, but in shorts, legs crossed and watching Dean for a long moment, watching the wet tears slide down this cheeks, noticing the whiteness of the knuckles gripping the bottle as if holding on for dear life. The scent of despair was intoxicating.

Sam put his palm low on Dean’s bare belly, his long pinky almost touching Dean’s flaccid penis. “Don’t cry Dean, please don’t.” He moved his hand slightly, leaning in so his face hovered over Dean’s chest and he was looking into his brother’s eyes. “Not over me.”

He licked his lips and looked down, too shy to look in Dean’s eyes “I could make you feel better, like you did for me. Drive everything... the pain... the sadness... all of it out of your mind, if you want me to.” His lips curved into a small smile, and a slight flush crawled up his cheeks. He hesitated then looked up. “I could do it better than that“ his gaze shifted to the bottle and back. “I want to taste it on your tongue.”

The touch of the warm hand against the bare skin of his stomach made Dean flinch slightly in surprise.

What the…

Somehow he managed to drag his eyes open despite the fact that they felt like they had been glued shut with crazy glue. Maybe they had been? He wasn’t sure… He was so fucking tired… That could have be because of the pills or the liquor, he wasn’t sure which at this point. Most likely it was the mixing of both in his gut making everything thick and fuzzy in his head.

It wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling but at least the pain in his head from the concussion was gone. Hmmm… maybe they should prescribe this remedy in the hospital. He’d have to remember it for the future. Too bad he couldn’t remember what he had taken or even how much, oh well, it didn’t matter…

Dean blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Everything swam together and when he turned his head the room itself felt like it was tilting. Whoa… he hoped he didn’t throw up. He hated throwing up. His brother’s concerned face finally swam into view and Dean blinked a little stupidly at the younger boy.

Sammy? No… Sammy was gone. Sammy had left. Sammy hated him… Crying… was he crying? Lifted one hand to his face, found he had a difficult time finding it, but he finally did and his fingers definitely came away from his cheeks wet. Huh… he supposed he was crying. Because his brother was gone, had left, because Sam hated him…

Dean’s breath hitched a little in his throat as he turned his eyes back to the younger boy. His wet fingers slowly reaching out to run across Sam’s cheek. Warm… soft… Sam was here. He hadn’t left? He thought Sam had left, was gone forever, but Sam was back. Dean felt the cold pain in his heart melt away just a little. Damn, he hadn’t even noticed it was still there, it hadn’t been warmed in the least by the burning liquor he drank, but now it had eased that tiny bit. Warmed by Sam’s presence…

“Sammy…” He whispered his brother’s name, slurring every letter, but he didn’t care as he cupped the younger boy’s cheek in his palm. Yes, he wanted the pain gone, he wanted the sadness gone, he wanted the longing gone… he wanted Sam. “I want…”

“Me. You want me.” Smiling, Sam turned his face into Dean’s palm, hiding briefly from him. Breathing into his brother’s calloused palm, he stuck his wet tongue out and swept it up and down, tasting the salty remains of his tears, and hearing the sharp intake of Dean’s breath.

When he pulled back, he took in Dean’s flushed face and the brightness of the eyes focused on him... only him. Bringing his mouth messily down over Dean’s, he licked his thick full lips, tracing their outline and pulling back.

Again, he took a minute to collect himself, feeling Dean’s hot breaths fanning over his own mouth and cheek. He reveled in the Dean’s tangible need festering to the surface, resisted under the guise of shyness, and when he couldn’t take it any longer, he bought his mouth down again, this time with a groan as he opened his mouth for his brother, begging him, want him to plunder and take what he needed.

As they kissed, Sam slowly moved his hand in circles, each time a little lower, until his palm was sliding down and up Dean’s shaft. Every so often, he would stop, as if to forget, then start up again. With each pass of his hand, his brother’s satin-soft skin stretched tauter over his hardening cock, filling Sam with a sensation of power. More, he wanted more... of Dean needing, wanting, craving... he kissed him harder, worked harder to make Dean forget everything... everything but this...

Yes. He wanted Sam. He wanted Sam so much it hurt. It hurt when his brother was near him. It hurt even worse when Sam was gone. But Sam was back now… his brother was back, and he couldn’t stop from gasping sharply when the younger boy nuzzled into his palm, licking at it and Dean felt a flush travel along the entire length of his body, pooling in his groin.

“Sammy…” Dean breathed again, almost in awe, and then Sam’s soft lips were on his and he forgot how to think. All that mattered was the feel of those soft lips caressing his own, that slick wet, hot tongue licking and Dean couldn’t contain the groan of desire that escaped his throat. Parting his lips eagerly, however his brother pulled back before he could and Dean felt that familiar cold panic settle in his gut.

He’d pushed too fast, Sam didn’t really want this, he’d disgusted the younger boy with his sick desires. But Sam didn’t run away from him in disgust, in fact, the younger boy was still so close he could feel his soft panting breaths against his face and it made Dean’s lips feel tight and tingle in anticipation. His fingers itching to reach out and pull Sam back down to him but he felt frozen in place by that ever present fear when he was around Sam lately.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t hate me… He begged silently, looking up into brother’s eyes. And then Sam kissed him again and the fragile threads holding him back all snapped at once. The bottle of booze long forgotten fell to the floor and his hands found their way into Sam’s soft hair, tangling in it as he held Sam close and his own tongue slipped between his brother’s parted lips.

He savored the delicious taste of his little brother as he explored every inch of that hot wet mouth. Gasping against his brother’s soft lips when he felt the younger boy’s hand sliding lower on his stomach. Touching him… oh god… oh fuck… caressing his cock… Tracing up and down his length, and he was so hard so fast it hurt. He moaned helplessly into the younger boy’s mouth.

Sam… Sammy… Sam…

He whined every time his brother’s almost tentative touches along his flesh stopped for even a moment, his hips bucking up against his will, seeking more. He was so hard already he was leaking, precome pooling against his belly. His hands slid through Sam’s soft hair, down his neck, petting along his bare back, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, and when he could no longer stand the ache he grasped Sam and pulled the younger boy up onto the couch with him. Letting Sam straddle his hips and rubbing his hard dick against his brother’s ass, leaving a damp trail on the younger boy’s shorts.

Dean groaned loudly, obscenely, needy, and the sound of it made him freeze, looking up at his brother almost fearfully. Had he gone too far too fast?

With each subtle motion of his ass, Sam urged Dean to grind harder against him, worked him up until was out of control. So good, so fucking good... He fed on Dean’s need, enflaming it, lusting after Dean’s lust...

Dean’s loud groan had him opening his eyes. The fear in Dean’s eyes was absolutely delicious. Passively staring right back at his brother, he tortured him for a spell... let him wonder.

Then he searched for Dean’s hand, and pulled it up his thigh, placing it over his own cock straining against his shorts. “Me too,” he said, pressing Dean’s hand down, and then started to move his ass over Dean’s cock again. He started slow and easy, then threw all caution to the winds and started to ride Dean hard.

He knew the material of his shorts had to be chafing, hurting... but he didn’t give Dean a chance to complain. Right now, Dean would take him any way he could get him... take as little or as much as he gave, he was in the rider’s seat... literally.

Still fucking against Dean, he dropped down over him, kissing him hard... letting their tongues tangle, tasting Dean’s darkest desires even as he made them come true.

He dragged his mouth down Dean’s throat, sucking on him lightly, then his chest. He licked and kissed, grazing his teeth along the ridges of Dean’s muscles, and moving his mouth lower. Practically doubled over, he couldn’t bring his mouth any lower down Dean’s belly without scooting his body down too.

He looked up. “I ... I saw a site on the net where...” he licked his lips, looked like he was in pain as he continued. “Do you want me to try to suck you off, Dean?” His eyes held both promise and fear.

Dean barely dared to breathe, though he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering so hard against his ribs it felt like it was trying to break out of him. Shit. He was such a fucking idiot. He was a sick fucking pervert. How could he have let himself touch his brother this way, god damn it? Even if Sam had seemed to… want it…

He tried to brace himself for his brother’s angry words. For Sam to call him sick and evil and pull away from him like he had the plague. He waited, trying to brace himself for all of Sam’s angry words and maybe even his brother’s angry fists. Sam hitting him like Dean had hit the younger boy before in anger. He wouldn’t have stopped Sam, he wouldn’t have raised a fucking hand to defend himself from his brother’s wrath. Even if Sam decided to plunge a knife into his gut he wouldn’t have stopped the younger boy. He deserved it and more after all…

All of this went through his mind in the few seconds Sam just sat there and looked at him, and he couldn’t stop the slight flinch and tensing as he prepared for his brother to lash out against him even if he wouldn’t fight him. Expecting violence he was surprised when Sam merely took his hand and… oh god… feeling his little brother’s hard cock in his shorts, the heat of him burning through his palm practically like a brand, made Dean groan almost in pain.

Sam’s hand pressing down on his, his brother’s ass rubbing against his cock, and Dean needed no further encouragement. Squeezing the younger boy’s dick through his jeans, and groaning as he rubbed up against Sam harder and harder. The movement of his hips practically lifting the younger boy up from the couch, the friction almost more pain than pleasure but he couldn’t stop. The idea of coming against his brother’s ass, his spunk soaking the material of his shorts, made Dean practically whimper and it was a wonder he didn’t blow right then and there.

“Sam… Sammy…” Dean whimpered until Sam was kissing him again, and he practically fucked the younger boy’s mouth with his tongue. His other hand sliding through Sam’s hair, down the younger boy’s back, slipping underneath his brother’s shorts to squeeze his ass while Sam’s lips did sweet evil things to his neck and chest.

Oh god, this had to be a dream, it was too perfect…

Sam looking up at him, so sweet and innocent, eager and fearful at the same time when his brother offered to give him a blow job nearly stopped Dean’s heart. Yes! Oh god, yes! He was so hard he hurt. It probably wouldn’t take much more than the touch of those soft sweet lips to the head of his cock to make him come all over his baby brother’s face. He was a little surprised he hadn’t come already. He wanted to beg for it, but the uncertainty in the younger boy’s eyes stopped him.

“You… you don’t have to…” Dean finally managed, unable to say yes or no.

He knew how much it took for Dean to let him off the hook. How much he needed for his mouth to be wrapped around his painfully throbbing dick, now that he’d put the image in his mind. Still a hero ... always trying to play the hero, even against something as powerful as lust.

Sam dropped down and sucked Dean’s lower lip into his mouth, playing with it with his tongue, then pulling off. “I want to try.” Shy smile in place, he started moving down Dean’s body, sucking hard on one flat male nipple, raking his sides with his fingers as he moved lower.

It was tight on the couch, but he made it work, sitting on his knees between Dean’s legs. He started to fondle Dean’s cock, measuring its length, feeling it’s weight and girth. “I dreamed that you wanted to fuck my mouth, Dean. I dreamed we were watching t.v. and I had my head in your lap and every time I moved... you wanted... did that ever happen?”

Leaving the question to hang between them, Sam licked Dean’s tip, curling his tongue around the bead of precum, tasting it... the smiling, and taking Dean’s blunt crown in his mouth and sucking lightly.

Oh god, he was going to go into cardiac arrest any second, Dean was certain of it.

In a million years he never would have expected Sam’s response. He hadn’t expected his brother to kiss him breathless, sucking on his lips in a way that made Dean whimper pathetically against the younger boy’s mouth. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Sam to reply that he wanted to try, making Dean’s dick throb and leak even more against the younger boy’s shorts. Fuck, he could feel how soaked Sam already was…

Then Sam was kissing his way down his chest once more, licking and playing with his nipples and Dean’s hands shook as they came to rest on his brother’s shoulders. He ran his hands through the younger boy’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders in back in an almost petting, soothing, motion though Sam hardly needed any calming. He wasn’t the one who was shaking and feeling like he was going to come apart at the seams any minute.

“Sammy… oh god…” Dean panted feeling his brother’s fingers wrap around him, playing with his dick, stroking him slowly like he was trying to memorize the feel of him. Then Sam’s whispered question made him close his eyes and moan in shame, because it was true. It was probably the first time he realized just how sick and fucked up he was. Back when Dean still allowed his little brother to “cuddle” with him, before he started pushing Sam away and calling him a girl for trying to get close to him.

They’d been home alone, Dad off on a hunting trip of course, and it was summer so they didn’t have to worry about school. They were staying up late watching TV, eating popcorn, candy and he’d even let Sam take a few drinks off his beers. Which was probably the reason why Sam had ended up dozing off in his lap halfway through the movie they’d been watching. Sam hadn’t been resting still though, and every time he’d moved Dean’s dick had gotten just a little bit harder. He was at full mast before his upstairs brain even caught up with what was happening, how he was reacting, and…

“Yes…” Dean couldn’t help but admit. His voice small and trembling a little, his eyes begging for forgiveness as he looked down at his brother now. Even as Sam’s tongue tasted him, making Dean gasp in both surprise and pleasure. The moan pulled out of him when his brother wrapped his lips around the head of his dick and sucked almost pained, his fingers tangling in the younger boy’s hair, pulling Sam closer, begging for more before he could stop himself. Not that he wanted to stop. He couldn’t.

The mixture of guilt and acute need emanating in waves from Dean was exhilarating. Wanting... desiring more, he pushed his mouth down, taking more of Dean, but not all of him. The tentative touches, the trembling fingers in his hair and on his shoulder, the strangled moans, so sweet... so perfect...

Sam played with Dean's cock a little longer, feeling the changes in Dean as the elder Winchester grew more desperate and just a little bolder with his pleas, and with the pressure he applied on him, dragging him closer. He knew Dean was thinking about that one night when Sam had driven him crazy in his innocent ways, knew Dean had been so hard he'd had to jack off not once, but three times that night... each time coming to the mental vision of Sam moving his mouth over his cock, after teasing him while they watched the movie. Only when visions of past lust and his current lust brought him close to tears, did Sam relent and open his mouth wider.

Sam stopped sucking as he adjusted to Dean's thick length bottoming out at his throat. A few heartbeats and groans later, he started to move his mouth up and down Dean's shaft, sucking, licking, moving faster. His hand was closed around Dean's base, his wrist moving in half circles while his thumb casually... almost accidentally put pressure on his balls. He started to make some sounds of his own, breathing harder, mmm'ing around Dean's dick, his body readjusting so he was moving his hips and rubbing his own cock slightly against Dean's leg.

He felt Dean's body tense... like he was seizing up. Felt the skin around his balls pull tight... heard the change in his voice. Good... come... come hard big brother... come hard... like that night you jacked off so many times.

He was lost. Completely and totally lost. He couldn’t think beyond the pleasure burning through his veins like liquid fire. Incinerating all his good intentions, all his doubts, and leaving only pure need. Sam’s slick wet tongue stroking his shaft, Sam’s hot mouth tight around his throbbing length, taking him in, it was so dirty and so perfect. Sam’s obvious inexperience only making him even harder, hotter, knowing he was the first. He couldn’t have looked away from the sight of his little brother’s innocent mouth going down on his cock unless his eyes were burned out of their sockets. He couldn’t have stopped himself from crying out, his hips bucking up as he cried out loudly when his little brother took him all the way in.

“Sam! Oh god… Sammy… yes, please… oh fuck…” Dean moaned helplessly, guiding Sam up and down his dick, his fingers still tightly in his little brother’s hair, though his other hand gently pet the younger boy. Running along the back of his neck and shoulders, not sure if he was trying to calm Sam or himself. He thrust between those perfect sweet lips, moaning even louder at Sam’s touches around the base of his cock, the soft strokes to his balls. Sam’s soft moans around him driving his need even higher if it was possible. Oh god he was so fucked, he was so damned fucked…

“Sammy!” He shouted, the feeling of his brother’s own hard cock rubbing against his bare leg the final push to send him completely over the edge. His entire body tensing as though he’d been hit by an electric shock as he came so hard he saw stars. His hips bucking with pulse of his cock, his hot seed spilling from his dick into his little brother’s mouth, and Dean knew he was going to hell for this for sure but he didn’t give a damn.

Sam's hands roamed over Dean's bare belly as he sucked him dry, swallowing everything he gave him and knowing Dean was watching his every movement, fascinated. He absorbed wave after wave of intense emotions and pleasure, skittering to the edge just like Dean. His human form ached and throbbed, his need as real as Dean's had been. It wouldn't end here, couldn't.

He crawled up Dean's body, legs slightly spread, his head jerking back as he positioned his cock over Dean's hip bone and groaned. Needing this, needing it for real, he started to hump Dean's hip, hard and fast, eyes screwed tightly closed as he marched single-mindedly towards releas. "Dean... oh God... feels so good... burn... oh God, Dean, help me... help..." he pleaded, fucking harer, moving erratically, like he didn't know exactly what he needed, desperate, needy... dying for his brother's touch.

Sounds started breaking from him. He didn't hide them... felt them already start to affect Dean. He knew this scene would play over and over in Dean's mind... would have the young man in knots for days to come, would have him beating off just for his peace of mind... to prevent himself from going crazy due to the needs of his body.

"Dean!" he cried out, back arching, dick dragging one last time over his brother's hip, before he collapsed over him. He felt Dean's hand cove over his back, holding him tight. Lifting his face, he kissed Dean, then moved his mouth over Dean's ear. "I love you. If you love me, really love me back, you won't let me go. You won't let me leave... won't make me cry again."

He hoped each of his words would give Dean fresh wounds, new guilt, new fears, new reasons to emanage emotions. "I'm at the bus stop. I'm afraid of being alone, or never seeing you. But you told me to leave... I'm doing what you asked me, what you wanted. Not much time left. Bus comes in fifteen... take me back with you."

He slid off Dean, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Bring me back, Dean. The days will be his and yours, and the nights... yours and mine." He gave a sexy but tremelous smile, "In your dreams... I'll be there, if you save him from himself."

Dean mewled with each suck Sam gave to his cock, his mind and body on complete overload with pleasure. He simply couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching Sam, his baby brother, licking up his release, savoring it like it was the most delicious treat in the world… He could get hard and come again just from that knowledge alone. Oh god, he was such a fucking pervert, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not now. Not after feeling this. What he’d dreamed of and denied wanting for so long…

When those perfect soft lips finally released him Dean couldn’t help but whimper in protest even though he was so sensitive by that point the pleasure was approaching the pain threshold. But then Sam was climbing up his body, rubbing his dick against him, moaning and crying out his name, pleading with him and Dean felt hot all over. Like he was on the brink of coming again just watching Sam, just feeling him.

His hands went to the younger boy’s slender hips, guiding Sam though his brother needed no guidance. His moans echoing his brother’s. So beautiful. So hot. So perfect. Sam. His brother, wanting him, needing him, just as much as Dean needed Sam. It was wrong and impossible and so damned perfect Dean felt close to tears.

Then Sammy was screaming his name as his little brother came against him and Dean felt as though all the air had been knocked out of him. He was still gasping for breath when the younger boy collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his arms tightly around his trembling brother, petting him slowly, lovingly, giving the comfort he had denied the younger boy for so long for fear of what Sam would see inside of him. Then Sam’s words made the air freeze in his lungs.

Of course he loved Sam, he’d never stopped loving his brother, never, he’d thought Sam hated him… but Sam had come back… no… Sam was gone… but his brother was here in his arms now… wasn’t he? Sam… at the bus stop… alone… No, this wasn’t real. It wasn’t… just a fucked up fantasy, just a dream… of course it was, how could he have believed anything different? But he had, for those few moments, and now heartbroken didn’t even begin to cover what Dean was feeling inside. It felt like his insides were being shredded. Even worse as he looked up into his brother’s tear filled eyes.

“Don’t go, please…” Dean begged, but the words were barely out of his mouth, between one blink and the next Sam was gone. He’d never been here. He’d been dreaming but… it felt so real… the pills, the liquor, the concussion, Dean didn’t know which had caused it but it had felt so fucking real. Sam’s lips around his cock, Sam’s warm flesh beneath his hands, hell, even his lips still felt bruised from the younger boy’s kisses.

Dean slowly pushed himself up from the couch, almost falling off of it when his head started spinning, his vision swimming in and out of focus. Fuck… he felt like he’d been hit over the head by a two by four. But Sam’s words… from the dream… echoed in his head and he forced himself onto his feet even though he had to catch the wall to keep from falling as he stumbled.

What the fuck was wrong with him? How could he have let Sam go? Even if Sam did… hate him… he couldn’t let Sam go. He wouldn’t. He’d make it better. He’d make it right. Somehow he’d make it right for Sam or he’d die trying.

Dean managed to yank on some jeans and a t-shirt without killing himself, not even bothering with shoes he ignored how fucking unsteady he felt and ran out of the house and down the road as fast as he could. The bus stop. It wasn’t too far. What if Sam wasn’t there? It was only a fucking dream… he had to be there, please god, let him be there.

He could barely see it was so fucking dark, and he barely realized it was raining until he’d already been soaked through to the skin. But when he finally got close enough to the bus stop to see the hunched figure curled up on the bench his heart both leapt with joy and felt like it was being ripped in two with sorrow.

“Sammy!”

Dean didn’t have any words prepared, he had no idea what to say, he didn’t even know if Sam would have listened so he didn’t even bother with words. Between one second and the next he’d pulled Sam up into his arms, holding the younger boy as tightly to him as he possibly could. It took him a few moments to realize he actually was speaking. A ramble of words that he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m sorry Sam. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave. I love you, I love you so fucking much…”

Eventually, even in the downpour, Sam had fallen into an exhausted sleep. His dreams had been disjointed and confused. One minute his brother was yelling at him to get the hell away, the next they were having dinner and Dean was passing him his favorite foods, giving his share over. The it was screaming and shouting again... his dad... his Dean... and he didn’t know where to run, where to hide. Once he’d have hidden behind Dean, now he was running from him. It was wrong, all wrong. When... when had his brother let go of him, when had he cut him loose? When did he stop needing him? When did he start resenting him?

He was crying again, this time in his sleep, until he felt strong arms pull him up and envelope him in a tight embrace. Another dream... it had to be, because Dean never hugged him anymore... he barely touched him. Only girls hugged... that’s what he said.

Yet it smelled so much like Dean. Felt so much like him. It was too real. Sam opened his eyes just as Dean said all the things that Dean would <I>never</I>, not in a hundred years tell him. His throat welled up, aching, as he pulled sightly back, wondering for an instance if this was some shape-shifter having its fun.

No, it was Dean. It was his brother. Sam hugged him back, tight, not caring that tears were coursing down his cheeks right along with the rain. “I don’t want to leave you Dean. But I don’t want to hold you back, either.” He swallowed, echoed the words that seemed to be coming unusually easily from Dean. “I love you too. You know that.” He put his face down on his brother’s shoulder, rocking slightly, and mumbling a home truth near his ear... thought he was afraid to look in Dean’s eyes. “Sometimes... sometimes you look at me like you hate me. Like I make your skin crawl, and that scares me.” That was it, that was the bottom line. He didn’t care that Dean had popped him. They fought often enough. And maybe it had been out of line, and a first... but Sam could deal with it. It was the silent looks of revulsion, and the admission that he felt like Sam was a weight on his shoulders that got to Sam, and nothing else.

When Sam finally spoke Dean honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or sob at the whole fucked up situation. Hearing Sam admit that he didn’t want to leave him filled him with joy while at the same time his brother admitting he didn’t want to “hold him back” made him want to cry. Where the fuck had Sam ever got the idea that he was “holding him back?” Hearing Sam say he loved him had his eyes burning with tears that were thankfully immediately washed away by the rain pouring around them, because no he hadn’t known that. Not after their last exchange, he hadn’t. It was why he’d let Sam go in the first place…

If possible his heart shattered into even smaller pieces, falling somewhere down to the center of the earth when Sam talked about… the way he looked at Sam. How the hell could Sam have picked up on the way Dean tried not to look at Sam, and had never noticed how Dean sometimes couldn’t look away from him?

For a split terrifying second he almost told Sam the truth, why Dean didn’t look at him anymore, why Dean tried not to touch him anymore, not even for an innocent hug before now. But then Dean “remembered” that what had… happened… back at the house had only been a dream. Just another one of his fucked up fantasies. Sam hadn’t really had his mouth around his dick less than an hour ago. His little brother would probably be horrified to find out just half the things that Dean wanted to do to him, not to mention disgusted, and then his brother really would hate him.

“Sammy, it’s not you. I swear, I never meant for you to think that. You don’t hold me back. I’m here because I want to be. I want to be with you and dad. I don’t want anything else, I never have. I thought…” Dean gave a bitter laugh. “I thought you hated me… you hate everything else about our life and when you didn’t deny it…”

Dean took a shuddering breath and ran his fingers gently through his little brother’s soft wet hair, practically cradling the younger boy against him.

“Come home with me. I’ll make it better, I swear. Somehow I’ll make it better.”

You don't hold me back. I'm here because I want to be. I want to be with you... The words were reassuring and familiar. They matched his knowledge, his vision of his brother, before a chasm had opened between them and slowly widened. Once, he hadn't doubted. If anything, he'd thought Dean loved him too much. It had worried him... the thought of how it might affect Dean once he told him about his college plans.

He hugged Dean tighter, like he used to whenever he needed comfort. Dean thought he hated him? Hated? Since when? Why? Okay, they'd fought... and he wasn't one to hold back his words, but sometimes that was all he had to fight with. Sometimes he hurt so bad inside, felt so oppressed by their life, he had to lash out. Had he lashed out too much at Dean? Blamed him for things his brother couldn't change?

His shoulder shook as he started to sob. "I don't hate you Dean, I could never hate you, no matter what. There is nothing you could do to make me hate you." He nodded, still burying his face in Dean's neck, rubbing his cheek against the rough wet material of his jacket. "I just... I get angry, and I can't help it. It's not your fault. You make things better, not worse." That was the truth too, plain and simple.

He started to relax as Dean ran his fingers through his hair and promised to make things better if he came home. "I'll make it better to, Dean. I'll be better, help you," he promised, reluctantly pulling away from his brother. He'd missed this... missed touching Dean, hugging him. It had felt weird... like a bucket of ice water being thrown in his face, when Dean had started to push him away and tell him not to be a girl every time he tried to hug. Yeah Sam was more in touch with his feelings, and he liked to touch, but the way Dean had started to shove him away had felt strange. Maybe Sam had imagined it. Or maybe Dean was trying to man him up in his own way. He should have known.

Getting up, Sam waited for Dean to do the same. His eyes widened as Dean appeared to be shaky and unstable. Christ, he'd forgotten how unwell and weak his brother was since the accident. Immediately putting his shoulder under his brother's arm, he helped him walk. "You know you shouldn't even be out here in the rain."

He stole a glance at his brother, and smiled. "Guess this is what you get for having a pain in the ass younger brother. You sure you want this?" As they half stumbled and headed for home, he teased. "You could trade me in for a nice sister... you know, she might not argue as much. Or how about a pet? Just don't call it Sammy, animals hate that as much as kids over thirteen."

This is what Dean needed, more than anything else in the world. Sam needing him, trusting him, loving him, as a brother. He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost it. Almost lost Sam. All because of a stupid argument. All because of he’d gotten so caught up in trying to deny and hide his sick desires, wanting what he could never have, he’d forgotten what he did have. He’d pushed Sam away to the point that his brother doubted his love and he’d almost run away forever…

Never again. Yes, Dean it would be hard for him, it had been hard since he realized his feelings for his brother and it certainly wouldn’t be any easier having Sam so close, wanting him in ways he shouldn’t, but Dean swore he’d never let it drive a wedge between them again. He’d never let Sam doubt how much the younger boy meant to him even as he hid from him the full extent of his love for his brother. Because despite the younger boy’s reassurances that Dean could never do anything that would make Sam hate him, Dean knew that wasn’t true. If Sam knew what he wanted to do to him, what he wanted Sam to do to him…

Dean’s mind flashed over to the vivid dream he’d had of Sam sucking on his cock and he felt a little ill at the flash of arousal he felt. It was probably a good thing then that Sam started to pull out of his arms, despite how reluctant he was to let the younger boy go. He pushed himself up from the bench after his brother, swaying a little unsteadily reminding him of the pills and the liquor he consumed and the concussion he had and… yeah… he felt like shit.

Dean let Sam help support him, glad for the younger boy’s aid. Though he normally would have insisted on walking by himself he didn’t for more than one reason. Only the second reason being because he really needed it, even if he didn’t he still wouldn’t have pushed Sam away, since constantly pushing Sam away was one of the reasons they were at this point now.

In spite of everything though, Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly at his brother’s words.

“Oh, I don’t know. We could always put pigtails in your hair and I could start calling you Samantha.” Dean teased and he ran his fingers once more through his brother’s hair making it stick up at odd angles, before he tightened his arm around the younger boy, tucking him even closer against his side. He answered his brother’s first question a little more seriously. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Dean could not have any idea how good it felt to have him touch him again. So good, so different from all the shoves and the dirty looks that Sam even allowed him to do stupid things with his hair, and call him a girl. He’d let him get away with anything, because right now, with his brother’s arm tight around him, it finally felt like home again.

“Alright then,” he smiled, his even white teeth peeking out as he looked down and started to walk faster. They both needed to get outta the rain.

As soon as they walked inside, he started to peel Dean’s sopping jacket off. “You should probably get to bed... unless you wanna watch some t.v.?” He knew it was close to morning, and that Dean looked like he was about to collapse. He also knew the right thing would be for Dean to sleep, but it was hard to let him go when things were just getting right between them.

He’d dropped his jacket on the kitchen floor and now pulled tee shirt off, the reached for Dean’s. “Get your jeans off,” he said, peeling the sticky wet material up and off Dean’s body.

He and Sam were unsurprisingly completely drenched by the time they got back home, but at least the rain was warm and there was little chance either of them would get sick from being out in it. Sam’s sneakers and his own bare feet tracked in mud and they both dripped puddles all over the kitchen floor that Dean was in absolutely no mood to mop up. Not to mention the mess in the living room with the tipped over coffee table and spilled food all over the floor he’d have to clean up too, but for now he honestly didn’t care about that. Because even as crappy as he felt physically he felt happier than he’d been in a long time. Just because he had made Sam smile…

Dean was a little taken aback however when Sam started to strip off his jacket and a flutter of nervousness started low in his belly in spite of himself. It was completely innocent of course, and practical. Better they undress in the kitchen since the floor was already wet and muddy rather than tracking it all over the house and have to clean up more.

However Dean couldn’t deny the warm flush that washed over him when the younger boy stripped off his own shirt and for a moment all Dean could do was stare at his brother’s bare damp skin. Standing their frozen as Sam reached to help him strip him of his own, telling him to take off his pants…

Dean shook himself, mentally going over in his brain every disgusting zombie like smelly creature they’d ever hunted to distract himself from his little brother’s body. His eyes darting down but he didn’t shove Sam away when the younger boy helped him get his shirt off over his head. However there was no way in hell he was going to let his brother help him get his pants off. It was all he could do not to sprout wood already.

“TV would be great, dude, but I gotta clean up and go to bed. Gotta go to work tomorrow.” Dean said with genuine regret. As much as being near Sam tied him up in knots, after everything he really didn’t want to let Sam out of his sight even for things as “necessary” as sleep.

“Okay,” Sam said softly, letting Dean pull away. He unzipped and bent over to get his jeans off, cursing as the thick material stuck to his legs and had to be worked off. He would have offered to help Dean take his off, but his brother started to head to the livingroom. "Dean, I'll clean up, just go... or you won't be able to get up," he said, stepping out of his clothes. He looked up and met Dean's gaze and pointedly looked toward their dad's room. A split second later, his brother was heading that way. “See you in the morning... call me if you need something,” Sam told him.

The instant Dean Winchester staggered into the room, he came to Dean in Sam’s form. This time, he plastered himself to Dean’s bare back, arms around his waist and undoing his jeans, cock ... a hard knot... pressing against Dean’s ass as he walked him toward the bed.

“I missed you. Want to help you. Want to let you look at me as much as you like,” he said, cupping Dean over his partially opened pants, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be able to touch me, to look at me, without having to hide it. Without feeling ashamed? You’d like to tell me you like when I do this...” he was breathing hard, rubbing against Dean’s ass, “... when I show you how hard you make me.”

He pushed and they were the few steps to the bed. Squeezing Dean, he started to whimper. “Dean, I don’t know what to do... make me feel good,” he pleaded, trying to ride against him as he moved his hand inside Dean’s shorts and curled his fingers around his shaft. “So hard... it hurt... please Dean... need... need something... something...”

It was a losing battle, much to his shame, and he quickly turned away, refusing to watch his brother unzip and peal himself out of his wet jeans. Feeling sick with himself and his lack of control, he started towards the living room to clean up the mess in there. He’d mop up the kitchen floor afterwards. Hopefully by the time he was done Sam would have already gone to bed. Temptation gone…

He stopped at Sam’s offer however, and big mistake, turned around to look at the younger boy. The thin material of his brother’s boxers were clinging to his Sam’s skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and Dean knew one way or another he needed to get out of the room. Rather than argue and embarrass himself or worse he simply headed for Dad’s room instead.

Dean barely got the door closed when he felt the arms wrapped around him all of a sudden, felt the hands undoing his jeans, and felt the hard press of an erection against his ass as he was pushed towards the bed. His own cock immediately jumped to attention even as his brain began waving red flags.

This wasn’t fucking normal, even for him. He wasn’t asleep this time, god damn it, this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t Sam plastered against his back, it wasn’t his little brother’s voice whispering hot dirty things into his ear, promising everything Dean had ever wanted. Either Dean was going completely insane, either he was hallucinating from some kind of brain injury, or it was… something else…

But even as he realized this it was like his brain was filling with a fog. He couldn’t think beyond the lust wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. He grew impossibly hard in the hand that stroked him, groaning in pleasure when Sam reached into his shorts and squeezed his dick. Yes, he wanted it. Wanted everything Sam offered and more. He needed it…

Dean grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled his hand away even though he whimpered in almost pain from the loss, and turned around in the younger boy’s arms. Grabbing his brother he yanked Sam up hard against him, his mouth coming down on Sam’s almost bruising. Not caring about the consequences.

The momentary indecision that warred within Dean was delicious, absolutely delicious and almost had him coming. One more squeeze of Dean’s hardening cock, and he knew he had him.

Sam didn’t pull away from the brutal kiss, instead winding his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing himself even closer. “Mmm,” he kissed back, tangling his tongue with his brother’s, letting him suck on his tongue... like it was his dick. He knew those thoughts and even more obscene ones were tumbling through Dean’s mind, and it didn’t take much to encourage them.

He felt Dean’s hand slide down his bare back and slip under his shorts, cupping his ass. Mewling against Dean’s lips, he arched into him. He started to thrust against Dean, half climbing him until Dean lifted him slightly and his cock was aligned over Dean’s. He started to move mindlessly against him, bowing back to get maximum friction.

Pleading sounds broke from the back of his throat. As he writhed and begged for more, he could feel Dean’s lust rising... “Touch me, touch me Dean. I need you,” he moaned, kissing him again, this time his tongue slipping into Dean’s hot, wet mouth, engaging him, trapping him in a web of lust and desire so strong, he was sure the world could come to an end right now, but his lover would not notice. “Need something... need more, please dean... take your clothes off... bed... anhhhh...”

Dean cupped the back of his brother’s head with one hand, his fingers winding themselves tightly in the younger boy’s hair, holding him place as he ravished Sam’s mouth with near abandonment. Not that Sam was trying to pull away or stop him. In fact, the younger boy kissed him back with just as much passion and he was instantly so hard he hurt.

He groaned as he sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth slid his hands possessively down the younger boy’s body to caress his buttocks. Slipping underneath his brother’s underwear to caress and squeeze the luscious firm globes, bucking against the younger boy when Sam rubbed against him. Finally lifting Sam up a little so that his and his brother’s cocks slid together. The friction delicious even through the layers of cloth they still wore.

He loved the sounds of pleasure and need spilling from his brother’s throat. They drove him forward, needing more, trailing his lips and tongue down the side of the younger boy’s neck, biting and sucking as Sam mewled in his arms, begging for more.

Dean didn’t hesitate giving his brother exactly what he wanted. Turning them both around lifted Sam up. Encouraging the younger boy to wrap his legs around his waist for support and Dean carried him the final few steps over to the bed. Not putting Sam down Dean simply climbed onto the bed with him, laying his brother back and following him down. Thrusting and rubbing his cock between Sam’s legs as he brought his mouth down hard onto his brother’s again.

He kissed Sam till the need for air forced him to pull back and he grasped Sam’s underwear and practically ripped it down his legs impatiently. Then went to work getting his own wet jeans and shorts off as quickly as he could.

“God... Dean... good... don’t stop,” Sam begged, finally getting the friction he wanted with Dean on top of him. So good, it was so damned good, the web of lust binding them together as they mindlessy writhed against each other.

Dean’s mouth descended in a hungry kiss and Sam parted his lips for his brother. He could do this forever... kiss and rub against him, slowly drive him crazy out of his mind until Dean gave everything over... his body, his soul, his life... all to satisfy the burning need It enflamed in the form of his younger brother. Illicit love... there was nothing more tortured and more delicious.

“No... don’t stop...” Sam whined when Dean broke the kiss. He gasped as his shorts were pulled down, then watched through heavy lidded eyes as Dean tore off his own jeans. Half sitting, bracing himself of one elbow, Sam shyly closed his legs and covered his shaft with his hand, stroking it ever so slightly, his eyes wide... focused on his brother’s thick cock. “So big he said breathlessly, licking his lips, and swallowing.

His brother’s sudden display of shyness, the way the younger boy closed his legs and covered himself made Dean still. Lust still burned through his veins like fire, especially the way Sam was looking at his cock with a mixture of nervousness and wonder. Clearly remembering the feel of his brother’s lips wrapped around his aching flesh…

Dean wanted nothing more than to tear Sam’s hand away, to push open his legs to look at, touch, kiss, and lick every intimate part of his brother’s body. To claim every inch of that fresh virginal body as his own, but he refused to do anything that might hurt or scare the younger boy. If Sam told him to stop, he would, without hesitation, no matter how it might pain him. He would not do anything that his brother did not want him to.

For a moment, all he could do was watch the slow movements of those long fingers covering his brother’s dick, lightly caressing its hard length. His mouth practically watering with the thought of replacing those fingers with his tongue, before he forced his eyes back up to meet Sam’s.

He crawled up the length of the bed and laid down beside his brother, propped up on his elbow on his side, not touching Sam except for the hand on the younger boy’s thigh that he slowly slid up from his knee to his brother’s waist. His thumb caressing over his hip bone before moving back down, shifting to Sam’s inner thigh before moving back up slowly. His fingers curling up just behind the younger boy’s balls before moving back down.

“You’re so beautiful, let me look at you, Sammy, please…” Dean whispered, licking his lips. Gently coaxing his brother’s legs apart again. “Do you want me to touch you? Kiss you? Lick you? Tell me what you want…”

Sam squirmed, let Dean see how his caresses were affecting him. His breaths were shallow and audible. His gaze, locked on Dean’s eyes as he inched his thighs apart for his brother. “I’m not beautiful.” He answered, his color rising.

His hand slowly slipped off his shaft, but now he didn’t know where to place it and looked a bit unsure. He wetted his lips, then stretched his hand out to touch Dean’s cock, eyes raising up to see if he had permission. Petting it gently, he rolled closer to his brother and brought his open mouth down over his.

His hand and tongue didn’t move quite in unison because he was too inexperienced to be able to concentrate on both. He tangled his tongue with Dean’s, moaning softly, then pulling back. “Touch me Dean. With your mouth,” he nodded, kissing him quickly again, then holding his breath.

Dean bit back a groan as he watched how his little brother shifted and squirmed just from his lightest touch. He longed to just grab the boy and pull that young beautiful body tight against him so he could feel Sam moving and shifting and rubbing against every inch of him but the last thing he wanted to do was scare his brother, and so he forced himself to go slow. Even though he couldn’t stop himself from moaning and the hungry look that entered his eyes when Sam did as he asked, sliding his legs apart obediently and removing his hand from his beautiful cock.

“Of course you are, I wouldn’t lie about that.” The elder boy replied, his whole body hyper aware of the heat being generated from Sam, his fingers practically burning where they touched forbidden flesh. Sliding up the younger boy’s thigh once more and not stopping there this time. Cupping his little brother’s heavy sack and giving it a gentle squeeze, ghosting his fingers up the length of the younger boy’s cock from root to tip.

He nodded when Sam reached out to touch him, giving his brother permission when the younger boy looked at him and moaning again when Sam touched him in return. When his brother moved closer, kissing him again, Dean responded immediately. Wrapping his arm around the younger boy’s back and tugging him even closer, sweeping his palm up from Sam’s waist to his shoulders, and then down again to his ass. Petting and squeezing his brother’s soft downy cheeks as Sam’s tongue played in his mouth and his fingers played with his cock. So fucking sweet…

His brother’s request made him groan and he nodded as the younger boy kissed him again. Dean took more control of the kiss this time, letting his tongue sweep into the warm cavern of Sam’s mouth as he clutched Sam closer and rolled them both over so that he was on top of the younger boy. Sliding a leg between his little brother’s thighs he rubbed his hard erection against Sam’s hip as he continued their kiss till he simply had to come up for air. Then he proceeded to rain soft tender kisses all over the younger boy’s face, his warm breath panting over Sam’s skin as he tasted his way down his brother’s jaw to his neck.

“Taste so good…” Dean whispered as he nuzzled the younger boy there, he couldn’t get over how soft and smooth his brother’s skin still was, while he knew his own cheeks and chin had a day’s worth of stubble. So damned young… but even his guilt wasn’t enough to stop him anymore as he sucked and bit and licked at the little hollow at the base of his brother’s throat. Sliding down Sam’s body, sweeping his hands down the younger boy’s chest and sides and his mouth following their path. His tongue flicking out to swirl around one of the younger boy’s peaked nipples, sucking and biting lightly on it while his fingers toyed and pinched the other. Pressing himself close to his brother, savoring every squirm and mewl of pleasure he drew out of Sam.

Desire. Lust. Want.

Emotions... needs ran so deep... had been denied so long, once they broke free, there was no stopping them. They were a force of nature, crashing around them like powerful waves, building up and seeking, searching for outlets, overrunning the banks.

As sweet as the kiss had been, the instant Dean took control of it, Sam’s pleasure intensified. Groaning, he obediently rolled on his back, his head tipping back as Dean’s weight sank into him. His brother’s knee moved between his legs and automatically, Sam clenched his thighs around it and started to move, rubbing himself against it as surely as his brother was fucking into his hip.

His breaths came faster, hotter. “Dean... oh my God Dean...” he thrashed from side to side as Dean’s mouth moved over him, feathering kisses, leaving burning hot trails over his skin, making him so sensitive that every touch sent fire through his veins.

Small sounds tore from his throat as Dean’s mouth did things to him, moving down his body. The fiery sensation that ran through him at the first touch of Dean’s tongue against his nipple had Sam almost jackknife up. If it weren’t for the weight of his brother, he would have. He moved his own hand to his other nipple, touching himself... discovering his body.

Dean was touching him, licking and kissing him with such excruciating slowness that Sam started to buck. “More... Dean please, faster... more,” he pleaded.

Dean moaned as his brother’s fingers took over where his hand been playing with his nipple. Using his now free hand, he slid his palm down to Sam’s stomach. Pressing down, holding the younger boy in place while his tongue continued to tickle the tight pink nub beneath it. Sam’s desperate pleas urging him on, giving more, everything his brother asked for. Sucking harder, taking the sensitive peak between his teeth and pulling gently. His brother’s hard cock leaving damp scorching trails over his thigh and he knew he wasn’t going to stop until he tasted the younger boy everywhere. Until he felt his brother’s pulse beating strongly against his tongue, his lips wrapped around the base of the younger boy’s cock, while Sam shot his load down the back of his throat.

Giving Sam’s nipples one last kiss, Dean continued down his brother’s body. Kissing and sucking and nipping at the sweat dampened skin as he went. His tongue dipping into the younger boy’s belly button while his fingers slid through the soft trail of hair leading from Sam’s navel to his groin. Finally he pulled back, just enough so he could watch as his fingers curled around his brother’s hot length. He gave the surprisingly long thick cock a slow stroke from base to tip, and groaned when he saw a perfect pearly bead of precome form at the slit.

Dean’s eyes flicked up to his brother’s, his gaze locking with the younger boy’s, as he dipped his head to lap away that drop with his tongue. The taste of his brother’s pleasure exploding over his tongue the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, and Dean groaned again as he swirled his tongue all around the swollen red head. He spent several long minutes playing with the sensitive underside, dipping into the slit over and over while his fingers continued to slide up and down the length of his brother’s shaft. His other hand digging into the younger boy’s hip to keep Sam from squirming or bucking up into his mouth until he was ready.

Finally Dean parted his lips and swallowed down his brother’s cock completely in one smooth motion. Groaning around the head of the younger boy’s dick when he felt it nudge at the back of his throat. Dean let go of his brother’s hip, letting the younger boy fuck up into his mouth as he bobbed his head. Sucking hard enough for his cheeks to hollow as he took Sam completely into his mouth over and over, never looking away from Sam’s eyes as he worked to give his brother the best blow job he would ever have in his whole life.

Pleasure came at him from a thousand angles. Dean’s mouth, his tongue, leaving hot wet trails over his body, teasing mercilessly, then making it better. Dean’s hands, sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding, always groping, always touching, like he was making sure Sam was still there, with him, like he couldn’t bear any separation.

Sam writhed and licked his lips. Need now eclipsed Dean’s guilt, but it was delicious just the same. Dean might be older, but he was still a teenager, still at the mercy of his hormones... and his hormones had been driving him up the wall for a long time when it came to his brother. Now it offered Dean his brother on a silver platter, and the emotions storming inside Dean were wreaking havoc with the boy, whether he knew it or not.

“Mmmn.... Dean,” he whispered, moving his legs uncontrollably as the elder Winchester grasped his cock and then looked at him. He licked his lips, his tongue darting out, soaking up his brother’s rapt attention and doing it again. Right now... Right now Dean knew he was going to hell, but he didn’t care... couldn’t.

As Dean’s tongue wiped his dick free of precum, and then started to torture him... dipping repeatedly into the slit at the head of his cock, Sam whimpered. Desire... need was as deeply etched on his face as it was on his brother’s. He didn’t say anything, but the way he tried to buck his hips... that told Dean he was desperate... desperate for more, and that it was only his brother’s hold on his hips that were preventing him from fucking Dean’s mouth.

Bracing with his elbows so he could watch, Sam’s eyes widened when Dean took him, all of hih into his mouth. At the first suck, Sam threw his head back, eyes closed, a groan tearing from the back of his throat. His fists curled around the bedsheets, he held on like they were his anchors, and then he started to thrust.

Little sounds broke from his throat as Dean moved up and down his shaft. When he opened his eyes, Sam found himself practically fucking the wet heat of Dean’s mouth, and his brother was letting him... no longer holding him down. He thrashed, his eyes glazing but locked to Dean’s, biting his lips... trying desperately but unsuccessfully to hold back his cries.

His balls started to draw up tight against his body. “Dean move.” He took a couple breaths, legs shifting. “Dean, I’m gonna.... Dean....” he tried to warn his brother as his body stiffened like a board and he started to come... hard.

Sam’s whimpers and moans of pleasure burned his ears. The feel of Sam’s hot dripping cock against his tongue scorched his mouth, his tongue, his throat. Hellfire… The road to hell definitely wasn’t paved with good intentions. It was paved with getting off on the feeling of your baby brother writing and moaning and thrusting his cock down your throat. Dean didn’t care one damned bit.

Dean watched. Every moan that spilled from his brother’s lips that he cause, he savored. Every time Sam lifted his hips, shoving himself deeper into his mouth, into his throat Dean moaned around him. The sweat glistening on his brother’s flesh, the lust in Sam’s eyes, he savored it all. The most forbidden fruit, and he savored every bit of it greedily.

As Sam’s whimpers changed in pitch, as the younger boy began to thrash harder beneath him, as he felt his little brother’s balls tighten, Dean didn’t know if he could have stopped if their father had suddenly appeared at the door threatening to kill him for molesting his younger brother. When Sam began to “warn” him of what Dean already knew was imminent, Dean only sucked harder, taking the younger boy as deeply as he could into his throat without choking around him.

The first shot of the younger boy’s semen down his throat made Dean feel light headed, and he barely remembered to swallow. Not wanting to lose a single drop, but he simply hadn’t anticipated Sam to come so much or so hard, and he was forced to pull off just to take a breath. Causing the younger boy to shoot over his face and lips as well as in his mouth.

Rather than feeling gross or disgusted though, Dean merely moaned, licking his lips and the head of his brother’s cock as though he were savoring the most delicious treat in the world.

An urgent and desperate cry broke out of Sam as he came, half sitting up, hands digging into the mattress, fingers clenched around mounds of now wrinkled sheets. His hair was plastered to his forehead, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body. His eyes widened as his cock slipped out of Dean's mouth and another rope of cum shot out of him.

"Dean!" Fear and embarrassment crossed his features as he drew his knees half way back and sat up. Reaching out, he started to wipe Dean's face, his hands shaking, and his voice hesitant and fearful. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I tried to tell…"

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He was making more of a mess than helping, but in his panic, he couldn't even think of using the sheets or finding something. "Don't be mad… I…" Then the hot tears started falling, streaming down his cheeks and rolling onto his chest. "So sorry…"

The sudden change in his brother’s demeanor, going from nothing but pleasure and need written on the younger boy’s face to shame and even fear stunned Dean so much at first he could only stare dumbfounded at Sam from his position between the younger boy’s legs. He blinked up at his brother stupidly, even as the tears welling up in Sam’s eyes made his heart twist painfully in his chest while the younger boy frantically wiped at his face.

Don’t be mad? Why would he be…

It finally clicked and Dean didn’t know whether to laugh at his brother’s mortification, his pain, his fear, or feel guilty at having been the cause even if he hadn’t meant to. Dean gently grasped the hand that was doing little but smearing the younger boy’s come across his face and lips as he pushed himself up, shaking his head at the same time.

“No, Sammy. No I’m not mad. How could I be mad?” Dean tried to reassure, his heart twisting all the more painfully at the tears now running down his brother’s face.

Climbing up the length of his brother’s body he gathered the younger boy close to his chest and held him tightly. Running his fingers soothingly down his brother’s hair and back as he tried again.

“Sam, I’m NOT mad. It was amazing. I liked it. Every second. I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Wanted to taste you for so long…” God, he sounded like such a fucking pervert. But if it comforted the younger boy Dean would admit to all of his perverse and hell worthy thoughts and longings he’d ever had for Sam. Dean took Sam’s hand in his own again and brought the younger boy’s come slick fingers back to his lips. Taking his brother’s index finger into his mouth and sucking on it softly with a moan of pleasure.

Sam clung to Dean, accepting the comfort his brother freely offered, and forcing him to put to words his guilty desires… needs that had been building up for sometime making him ripe pickings. He stopped sniffling, and wiggled his finger inside Dean’s mouth, stroking his tongue. “Me too Dean. Sleep on top of me,” he whispered, pulling his brother down over him just as the bedroom door opened. "I like how you feel. So hard and..." It dissipated into thin air.

“Dean? Are you alright?” Sam asked, looking wide eyed at his brother who was hunched over kinda funny. “You were… I thought I heard a noise.”

When his brother didn’t answer, he walked into the room and even only by the moonlight streaming in, he noticed how sweaty Dean’s forehead had gotten. He touched to confirm, then sat down on the side of the bed and started to push Dean over onto his back. “You’re burning up. You gotta take more Tylenol and water. I’m… I’m gonna sleep here tonight, okay? Dean?” His voice rose an octave as a sense of slight panic started to rise inside him.

Me too. He wondered exactly what Sam was referring to, but Dean couldn’t think clearly enough to ask when the younger boy pulled him down on top of him. Asking him to sleep with him, on top of him, just like this. Both of them smelling like sex and skin slick with sweat and there was nothing Dean wanted more right now…

But in the blink of an eye, Sam was gone…

Except Sam was there, behind him, standing in the doorway… and Dean’s heart practically stuttered to a halt in his chest at his brother’s soft concerned words. His real brother. His brother who would be horrified and disgusted if he knew just what Dean had… fantasized… hallucinated… he wasn’t even sure… about sucking Sam off…

Fuck, Dean swore he could still taste the younger boy’s seed in his mouth…

Dean quickly wiped at the sweat on his face, and he wasn’t sure where he found the will to actually turn and look up at Sam. He knew his eyes must have been wide with something akin to panic as the younger boy reached out to touch him and suddenly Dean felt like he was going to be sick.

Burning up… he felt like he was burning up, being incinerated inside by guilt and shame. And Sammy was completely oblivious, mistaking his flush of arousal for sickness. The darkness and the sheets Dean gathered around his waist hiding his painful erection. Thank god. Once Sam left at least he could take care of the shameful proof of his sick desires…

Dean thought he was going to suffer heart failure when Sam suddenly offered to sleep in here with him tonight. Probably to take care of him… There were so many fucking reasons why Sam shouldn’t Dean couldn’t possibly count them all right now. But after everything that had happened today, tonight… the thought of pushing Sam away for any reason, even if it was for the younger boy’s own good… what if it blew up in his face again like earlier?

Sam’s sudden, almost fearful, change in tone jarred Dean enough to finally answer instead of simply staring at the younger boy like some kind of sicko.

“Yeah… ok, Sam.” He managed to croak out and almost wanted to kick himself. Couldn’t he have come up with something, anything, to let his brother down gently? To convince Sam that he was fine and didn’t need babysitting? Apparently not. Apparently his entire brain was suffering from lack of blood flow and it was making him even stupider than normal.

“You’re right, I should probably take some more meds, I’m not feeling all that hot. Can you get me some?” Dean asked the younger boy. At least that would give him time to put his fucking pants back on.

The lost, confused look in Dean’s face, and his failure to immediately respond had started to freak him out. Then Dean agreed, and admitted he wasn’t doing well. Course that didn’t make Sam feel a lot better, but at least his brother wasn’t ‘out of it’ like he’d first started to believe.

He nodded, “I’ll get them. You…” He touched Dean’s forehead one more time, and got up. “Rest.”

Sam scurried out of the room, really not liking how Dean looked. In any normal family, they’d be heading to the hospital about now. But no, Winchesters had to take care of themselves unless they were on death’s bed. He knew there was no way in hell he could convince Dean they needed a doctor. He just hoped like hell that tomorrow, his brother would be better cause if he had to guess, he’d say Dean was looking worse.

As he got the Tylenol and poured some water into a glass, it hit him. Dean was doing better earlier, when he’d managed to get to the shower. Now… after having come out in the rain to look for him in the middle of the night, he was worse.

Guilt eating at him, he almost crept into the room, eyes on his brother. When he reached the bed, he sat next to him and passed the meds and water, and hung his head. “You… you shouldn’t have gone out in the rain, not like this. I’m sorry…. Sorry Dean, for all the trouble.”

Why was it when he didn’t have a hard knot of anger balled up in his stomach, it was a knot of guilt? Why couldn’t things be like they’d been a year ago, before he started to go through periods of extreme emotions? Sometimes he blamed dad, and even Dean, but … it wasn’t just them. It was him. He wished he knew how to let stuff go, how to get back to that happy place where he wasn’t making his brother miserable or putting him in danger… like this?

Taking the empty glass back, he put it aside, then lay down on his side, facing Dean. “Need anything?” he whispered, knowing there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to help his brother.

Dean couldn’t help breathing a small sigh of relief when the younger boy finally left the room. Fuck. Even the gentle touch of Sam’s hand to his forehead practically burned him. Cursing himself, Dean let the sheets around his waist fall as he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He didn’t have a lot of time until Sam came back.

Though the young man hadn’t expected the sudden wave of dizziness to smack him in the face once he was sitting up. Now that the adrenaline fueled by lust had faded he felt completely… drained… He could barely keep himself upright and not simply fall out of bed onto his ass as he reached over the side of the bed for his, thankfully, only slightly damp jeans.

Getting them on however and pulled up, not to mention buttoned up, was an even greater challenge. Thankfully his erection had started to wilt by then. Shame and disgust at himself was good for that. Had worked for a long time in fact, until the strength of his desires had begun to outweigh his shame. What had happened tonight though… twice… far outweighed any of his previous fantasies he’d ever had about the younger boy.

So real he knew he should probably be worried he’d suffered brain damage in that car accident… or worse… there had been something before… before he simply couldn’t stop himself from touching and kissing the image of his brother. But Dean had more important things to worry about right now. Playing sick… well… not really playing… for his over concerned real brother who had absolutely no idea what a disgusting pervert he really was.

With a heavy sigh Dean laid down in the bed again and covered himself up just in time for Sam to come back with the pills and water he promised. The younger man looking almost hesitant as he approached the bed and Dean’s heart began to hammer a little in fear that maybe he’d given himself away after all, before Sam began to apologize.

“Don’t, Sammy. No more apologies, ok? Besides I’ve got way more to be sorry for today than you do...” Dean said softly. If Sam only knew… With a soft sigh he tossed back the pills, since he really did feel like crap, and downed the whole glass because he knew Sam would probably nag at him if he didn’t. Handing back the empty glass to his brother, Dean offered the younger boy a small reassuring smile. He shook his head slightly.

“Nah, I’m good. Feel better already.” He replied. Yeah, they both knew he was full of shit, but if it would ease that worried guilty look on the younger boy’s face that’s all that mattered. “Good night, Sammy.”