A/N- This is my first ever fanfiction piece so I hope it is adequate enough. This particular story takes place during the conflict between Sam and Dean over Sam's powers and his relationship with Ruby, and the struggle to keep the gates of hell closed. I'm warning you in advance, this chapter is graphic and as the story goes on they will probably progressively get more and more sexually intense. At this point I am my own editor, so please excuse any mistakes or errors, particularly tense changes...it's a personal weak spot of mine. Thank you for reading. Hope You enjoy it! Oh, and I appreciate any and all feedback.

Sam's POV

Dean and I walk through the door to yet another run-down hotel room arguing loudly together.

"It's done isn't it, Dean? So why are you so bent out of shape?" I walk towards the bathroom to wash the blood and other things off my face. Dean shoves the bathroom door open and starts moving about the room in a haze of anger, violently grabbing his toiletries. I meet his eyes in the mirror briefly then he shrugs as if brushing everything off and leaves the bathroom. I let my head fall to hang loosely between my shoulders and take a deep breath before snatching the towel off the rack next to me. As I begin drying my face and hands I walk to the door of the bathroom. Dean is shoving his stuff into his bag. I stand up straight from my post in the door way.

"So, now you're leaving?" Dean stops in the middle of shoving a shirt into his bag and stares briefly at me before continuing.

"You don't need me, Sam. You've got Ruby!" He grabs the bag and goes to the dresser to throw more stuff in it. "Yeah, you two look nice and cozy." He says sarcastically. I move a couple of steps into the bedroom.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask. Dean chuckles mockingly.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" He continues shoving stuff into his bag. I stride angrily towards him stopping a few feet back.

"Let me explain, Dean." He lets out a short burst of ugly laughter then spins on me delivering a hay maker to my left Jaw. As I fall to the floor he walks in a small circle to regain his balance, shaking out his hand.

"How are you going to explain that, Sam?" He yells. "I told you after I found out that you were working with Ruby behind my back the first time how far off the reservation you were! You didn't tell me then what you were doing and now I find out you never stopped!"

Dean turned away and struted a violent path to the window pulling his hands through his hair then walked back to stand a few feet from me. As I pull myself up off the floor he clenches and unclenches his fists. I wipe the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and raise my chin in defiance.

"You feel better?" I see the next punch coming but stand there and accept another vicious blow that staggers me back into the table. My hand is steadying me on the table top as I lift my head to look up at Dean. It wasn't the first time we had fought, but I had a bad habit of forgetting just how heavy handed he is

"Guess not." I say, wiping the blood from my mouth for a second time, licking my lips I put my bloody fingers in my mouth. Dean watches me suck them clean then turns his back to me with a small shout, grabbing the first thing that comes to hand, which happens to be a remote, launching it to splinter against the wall.

"No Sam, I don't feel better. I don't like the feeling of not being able to trust you because you are drinking blood from a demon whore!" Silence falls between us as Dean looked challengingly into my eyes as if daring me to lie. I stand up straight, still staring at him. I have no reason to lie. I just wish he would let me speak my piece.

"You know I'm doing it to kill demons, Dean." He throws his hands up in the air takes a step towards me.

"Yeah, with your mind! Use the knife, Sam!"

"There is only one knife and two of us." I take a couple strides in his direction and raise my fist which I'm still clasping the towel in to point at him. "You know that, Dean." I throw the towel into Dean's face. He snatches the towel away in fury as I continue. "Using the knife kills the victim. My way saves them." I frown. "Why is that so bad, Dean?"

He blinks at me silently for a few seconds in confusion then his eyes glint with anger. "Because you are drinking Demon blood to be able to do it!" He yells, marching up into my face. I stare unflinchingly into Dean's angry face from half a foot away, his chest is heaving in frustration.

I say quietly and slowly, "Dad said-"

Dean jacks me up by my shirt and jacket throwing me back onto the bed cutting me off. One of his legs is between my thighs and the other on the outside. I flip him over, toppling us both onto the floor with me landing on top, straddling Dean. He struggles under my weight hitting me in the face once before I grab both of his wrists, pinning them to the floor above his head.

"Dad said…" I start loudly to be heard over his struggling, "that it is our mission to keep saving people and hunting things. But what if the best way to do that requires us to do things we never thought we could or should do?" Dean goes still under me. I look into his eyes as I continue. "So what if I have to drink demon blood. We can stab a hundred different people that demons possess. Sooner or later one demon or another will just take another meat suit and all we'll have accomplished is killing more people than we save." He has tears in his eyes as he stares up at me, lying completely still.

"What if you doing this backfires on us, Sam?" He stops and swallows a couple times before continuing in a barely audible whisper, "I couldn't bear losing you." I frown down at him, sigh then release his hands and pull him up to my chest, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, burying my right hand in his hair. We sit there like that for a few minutes. I wonder for a second if the physical closeness might be too intimate but let it go when he wraps his arms around my waist, resting them in the dip in my lower back. When Dean is calm again I slowly pull away, sitting back with my hands resting on his shoulders, looking directly in his eyes searching for the truth of what is bugging him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean." I see the love and worry in his eyes as he searches mine. The air between us gets thick as we stare into each others eyes. I watch his lips part so he can draw in more air as he glances at my lips and feel my heart skips around because I know what he wants. I want it too. I try to keep a blank face so as not to give myself away, but I want to lean forward and claim his lips. I'd fought so many similar urges over the years. He leans forward to where we are close enough that I feel his breath ghost across my lips. I stare at him but he doesn't move. My heart is leaping around in my chest so fiercely I suspect he can hear it. I've had so many countless dreams about Dean's lips, ripened and plump as our tongues dance together in time to our bodies. But now as I sit on top of Dean, looking into his beautiful green eyes from inches away my heart thuds erratically against my ribs in a combination of repressed desires and terror of what might happen if I allow myself, us, to cross that line.

Dean smiles and leans in a bit more running his nose from the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder up to my jaw line. He flicks his tongue out and slowly laves at the pulse throbbing in the Hollow of my throat forcing the smallest of exhales from me. I close my eyes allowing myself to bask in the moment I'd desired for longer than I'd dare admit. He pushes his hand into my hair, using it as a handle to maneuver my head to make eye contact. We stare intensely at each other for a minute. I can hardly breathe because my heart is racing so fast. I know he is going to kiss me. I know I need to stop this before everything spirals out of control, I just can't bring myself to deny him one small kiss. He closes the distance between us almost imperceptibly, closing his eyes. His lips meet mine in the softest, most chaste kiss I'd ever felt, lips soft and barely brushing mine, promising more yet daring not to venture further. His kiss is just enough for me to realize how soft his lips are. Softer than I could have ever imagined. How could something so soft and fleeting leave me out of breath and screaming inside for more? I stare at Dean for just a second feeling my heart seize in regret for what I was about to do. With what I consider to be a Herculean effort, I shove him back and stand so fast I have to use the bed to steady myself.

"What the hell, Dean!" I stare at him with the back of my hand pressed to my mouth. I was putting on one hell of an act of repulsion but I really just want to just touch my lips, to cherish Dean's sweet kiss. He just sits there watching me, eyes full of rejection and shame, as I shake my head and storm into the bath room. Once the door closes behind me I lean against it and let silent tears run down my cheeks as I run my fingers over my lips. I have to steele myself against the urge to fling the door open and kiss him until the pain I had caused him faded from his eyes.

••••••••••

Dean's POV

The bathroom door slams behind Sam with a shattering sense of finality. I am left leaning back on my hands with my legs sprawled in front of me where he left me, listening to the shower come on and wishing I had the courage to go in there and join him in the shower. I feel a hot pressure in my lungs and a stinging behind my eyes that I'm all too familiar with. Allowing myself to fall back on the floor, I stare at years of layered paint peeling off the ceiling above me.

I scrub at my face with my hands and let out a growl that sounds like it is more from fear than anger. "Oh god" I grumble around my hands. I had never allowed myself to let go of my true feelings for Sam and never ever had I ever acted on them. I had actually nuzzled and sucked on his neck...then I had actually kissed him! What the fuck had I thought I was doing? Had I really thought Sam was just going to profess the same feelings and we would have the earth shattering, body quaking, mind blowing homoerotic sex we have in my dreams?

Wait. Why had he let me nuzzle his neck? Why hold me so closely, so intimately? Why watch me kiss him if he wasn't into it? I swear I had seen something, felt something- shit! He never moved to do anything back. He didn't move at all in any of that. He probably hadn't known what to do about his fucked up, perverted, fruitcake brother coming onto him.

"Oh god...he thinks I'm queerer than a three dollar bill!" I growl out and slam my fist on the hard floor beneath me. I shake my head violently then lay there staring at the ceiling in silence not letting my brain venture to all the places I so didn't want to go right now. In the silence I hear the plastic snap of a bottle opening from the shower and before I can stop it images of a wet and naked Sam surge through my brain. He would be washing his hair right now, arms extended over his head exposing all that sleek, tawny muscle in one hard line. Water would be beating down on his back, rivulets of water and suds running down in teasing lines tracing paths I wanted to trail with my tongue, cock bobbing gently from the scrubbing.

"Oh for fuck sakes!" I say angrily, surging to my feet and almost falling because of the shooting pain in my groin. I was so hard right now my dick could probably cut diamonds. I try walking to the bed but a surge of pain stops me and has me fumbling at the zipper on my jeans to release my erection from its painful confines. I have a matter of minutes before Sam emerges from the bathroom in a towel, and that is something I definitely could not handle right now. If I see that right now I might just come all over myself and then what would Sam think of me? No, I had to get out of here because there is no way my erection is going to die down on its own...not with the hot ass images of wet and naked Sam running through my mind. I close my eyes shut tight as a wave of pleasure and longing rips through me and sends my cock into little seizures. My legs don't want to move but I force myself to walk over to the chair and grab my jacket, putting it in front of my exposed manhood. No way was I getting it back into my pants without serious crippling pain, maybe even injury. I hear the shower shut off and am suddenly more motivated than ever to get out of here. I snatch up my keys and flee the motel room as fast as I can on two and a half legs.

I am sweating by the time I get into the Impala. The door is barely finished slamming closed before I'm leaning over snatching the wipes, I keep there for times just like this, out of the glove box. I'm not going to be driving anywhere until all my blood isn't rushing to my lower head. I'm blinded by hundreds of images of Sam as I grab my cock, hissing in need. Suddenly I'm not in the car, I'm sprawled across the bed where Sam has just shoved me back. He leans over me grabbing my cock drawing a low moan from my throat and stroking me long and slow from base to tip giving a couple of small extra strokes by the head then repeating a couple of times. Sam leans down claiming my lips thrusting his tongue into my mouth like I imagine he would thrust into a nice warm body, swallowing down my moans as I feel myself getting really close to coming. Sam grabs the hair at the base of my skull and pulls my head back exposing my neck, running his hot tongue from the hollow in my throat to my ear lobe where he sucks it in between his lips growling a low bass hum at my rapid, irregular, raspy breathing. He nibbles my neck a little but my shiver is lost in the loud moan that tears out of my throat when he squeezes my cock a little more. Three strokes later I'm screaming my orgasm against Sam's neck and writhing in waves, clutching my lover to me through the searing, white-hot pleasure and wanting so much more.

I snap back from my daydream breathing raggedly and realize I have quite a mess to clean up. My body is heavy and languid with pleasure. I smile as I look down at my still hard and ready cock and realize...I'm going to make a bigger mess before I worry about cleaning it up.