Dean’s hands were braced against the rough brick wall in front of him. His head hung down between them, his warm panting breaths creating little clouds in the tight space between him and the wall thanks to the chilliness of the air. Despite the cold air that made goose bumps raise on his bare flesh his skin was damp with perspiration. Especially where the large hands grasped his hips tightly, pulling him back after each powerful thrust rocked him forward, barely stopping his head from smacking into the wall.

If asked, Dean couldn’t say exactly how he’d ended up out here in the alley behind the bar littered with trash and smelling like piss. One minute he’d been wallowing in self pity with a drink in his hand, the next the seat beside him was no longer vacant.

The guy was… wow. Definitely not hard on the eyes, the guy was at least a head taller than him, broad shoulders, longish brown hair, and amazing hazel eyes. Dean forgot what the guy said his name was, but his offer had been clear enough even for his drunken brain to understand. Dean had done this often enough in the past for cash, but that wasn’t the guy’s offer and Dean hadn’t said yes for money either. This was purely for fun.

They left the bar together and he thought the guy had offered to take him back to his motel room, but instead Dean had all but dragged the guy into the back alley. The guy didn’t seem to mind in the least and kissed him like he was trying to steal the breath out of his lungs. Leaving Dean’s mind reeling and his breath coming out in pants even before he was turned around and pushed against the wall. The guy had knocked his hands away when he tried to help him with his jeans, and Dean simply braced himself as his pants had been pulled down and he was hastily prepared.

The guy was big, and the moan Dean made when he first entered him was half pain half pleasure, but the guy knew what he was doing. Hitting his prostate with every deep thrust, making sparks flash behind his eyes and constant moans spill from his lips that would have done the best porn star proud.

When one of the guy’s hands left his hip to stroke his leaking cock hard and fast in time with his thrusts, that’s when Dean lost it, coming with a shout, shooting all over the wall in front of him and not caring. The guy grunted a few more times in his ear before he released as well and when he finally pulled out of him Dean felt more than a little weak kneed.

Dean was a bit surprised by the kiss the guy gave him before helping him get his clothes back in place. He was even more surprised by his words.

“That was great, kid. Though if you want some advice? Maybe you should tell whoever ‘Sam’ is how much you care about him.” The guy said, and though his words weren’t the least bit mocking Dean still felt himself pale remembering the name he’d called out as he came. The guy passed him his phone number on a crumpled up wrapper of some kind. Just in case he wanted to have some more fun sometime, or so he said, before he left Dean standing there. The paper fell from his numb fingers long before Dean moved again.

Sam sat in the park, the sounds of the wind rustling in the leaves and the crickets chirping kept it from growing too silent. He had his hands warm in his hoodie, long legs stretched out in front of him, feet covered in old shoes that he was only just starting to grow into - Buy them a size larger and they last longer. Sam could remember the day Dean and him had gone to buy these shoes, nearly two years ago. That had been the last time Sam and Dean had seen Dad. Sam's old shoes had broken, letting in snow and rain water, his toes pressing painfully against the front of them. As usual, Dean had opted for using the few extra dollars they had to buy Sam new shoes, rather than anything for himself.

Sam sighed, seeing Dean's love for him in everything he had, and everything he was... why was that not enough? Why did Sam have to go and demand that Dean give another part of himself to Sam? How selfish could he be?

At the same time as he thought this, Sam knew that there was no other way he could be. Dean was everything to him. Mother, father, brother, best friend, and it just seemed perfect for him to be Sam's lover too.

He squeezed his eyes shut, because right now Dean was out there somewhere, fucking around. Sam tried to ignore the curl of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, the burn of it like acid. He could feel it crawl to his chest, settling into that space where his heart was, making the muscle ache with every beat. It was stupid, Sam decided. Dean was the most sexual person he knew - which wasn't saying much, but anyway - and there was nothing out of the ordinary about Dean fucking around with random women. Nothing that would warrant this reaction from Sam. But somehow it hurt anyway, and he really should stop thinking about this because his cruel mind was supplying him with images of everything Dean possible could be doing.

He sighed again, releasing the breath like he was releasing all his stress and anger to the wind. It didn't work, but it helped a little bit. He got to his feet, started walking back to the motel when he smelled the sweetest scent, like vanilla and almonds and honey all mixed together. Surprised, he followed the scent a little and found bushes and bushes of star shaped white flowers, growing right there on the corner of the park. The flowers nearly sparkled in the moonlight, and their scent was nearly heady in its intensity. Sam found himself smiling for no reason, mesmerized by their beauty and he just knew he had to take a few to Dean, even if he got laughed at for it. His brother had to see these beauties.

Crouching down, he plucked one bunch that had about five small white flowers and two tiny pink buds. The scent stuck to his fingers, surrounding him in it and he smiled again, cradling the flowers in his hands before he turned to head back.

He barely took ten minutes to head back, and Dean still wasn't there. Sam sighed again but refused to let himself miss Dean too much. They already spent way too much time together, and Sam didn't want to be too clingy. He knew Dean wouldn't grow tired of him - hopefully - but Sam didn't want to try his luck. So inside, he put the amazing smelling flowers on Dean's pillow, and went to his own bed, undressing to his boxers and t-shirt before curling up into the blankets, and this time? He slept like the dead.

Dean wasn’t sure what time he got back to the motel room, he only knew it was much later than the ‘couple of hours’ he’d promised Sam he’d be gone. Reminding himself how he’d broken yet another promise to the younger boy made Dean feel like shit, but then again, he already felt like shit. And the truth of the matter was, he simply hadn’t been able to return. He simply couldn’t bear the thought of facing the younger boy, and he was immensely grateful when he finally did return to the motel that the room was dark. Apparently Sam hadn’t waited up for him.

The older teen sighed as he rested his forehead on the outside of the motel room door, his hand resting on the door knob but not turning it. He felt sick, but it had nothing to do with the alcohol poisoning he’d tried to give himself tonight. He just couldn’t get the stranger’s words out of his head, despite trying to drown them out with more liquor after he’d returned to the bar. It hadn’t worked. Nor had he been able to run from them the hours he’d spent stumbling around the dark streets of the town after the bar had closed. He could really only hope that once he finally passed out they’d be lost in an alcoholic haze and Dean would forget this night ever happened.

Dean let out a sigh, wrinkling his nose a little at the smell of his own breath, he decided he better go inside before he passed out right here in front of their door. So he fumbled a little with the key and finally got the motel room door open, and even managed not to simply fall through it when the door moved.

It was dark and Sam was definitely asleep in his own bed and Dean was grateful for that. He managed to strip off his t-shirt, hopefully without making too much noise, but gave up untying his boots and simply kicked them off. He was about to flop into his own bed when he noticed the flowers laying on his pillow. He frowned at them in confusion but of course only Sam could have left them there.

Dean turned to look at his brother asleep in his bed and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. God, he was so beautiful… and looking even younger in sleep. Almost against his will he found himself approaching the younger boy’s bed, and refusing to think too much about what he was doing he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Sam’s forehead.

He forced himself to straighten again before he lost his balance and fell on the younger boy, and quickly turned away from Sam. The knife of guilt still twisting painfully in his heart as he carefully picked up the flowers and moved them to the bedside table. A moment later Dean all but fell into his bed and prayed again that he would forget this night when he woke.