Title: Want
Rating: Um, PG-13 for subject matter
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: The lovely Dean and Sam Winchester do not belong to me, no matter how much I wish they did and no infringment of copyright is intended. I promise to clean the boys up and put them back in their box when I'm finished playing with them.
Warnings: Fraternal incest, so if that bothers you then don't read.
Feedback: Yes please. Constructive criticism is especially appreciated.
A/N: I have no idea what happened. I wasn't looking for another fandom and then I watched a few eps and I was hooked. I hadn't planned on ever writing for Dean and Sam but I woke up at 5 this morning with this fully formed in my brain and I had to get it out. shrug Looks like Spike had his own ideas about which fandom I was going to write for.
An errant drop of water trailed down Sam's back and Dean had to bite his tongue in a bid not to do something insanely stupid. From his position on the end of one of the twin beds that graced the motel room, Dean had a perfect view of Sam, stil damp from the shower and with a towel slung carelessly round his hips, searching for something in the duffel bag that sat on the beat-up dresser.
Dean had come to terms with his bisexuality a long time ago. When you lived the kind of life he did, you took comfort where you could find it and sometimes that meant picking up a woman in a bar and sometimes it meant quick, messy, mutual hand-jobs in an alley. It wasn't a big deal. But this lusting after his baby brother was just wrong.
Little brother sure has filled out, he thought absently as his eyes traced the play of muscle across Sam's shoulders. Gone was the slight pudginess from baby-fat that Dean remembered. Now, there were hard lines and solid muscle that drove Dean crazy with the urge to touch. He had been shocked by the wave of heat that swept through him when he had pushed Sam against that bridge support in California on their first hunt together without Dad. At the time he had put it down to adrenaline and anger, but now, he knew it for what it was. Pure and simple lust.
Dean wanted Sam and he knew he was going to Hell for it. The little voice in the back of his head that whispered "touch, need, want" was almost constant now and sometimes the need got too much for him and he had to get out. Had to head to the nearest bar, pick up the first warm, willing woman he could find and pound into her body, all the time pretending that it was Sam who lay beneath him. Sam who moaned and sighed and gasped his name when he came.
Dean suddenly realised that Sam had stopped moving and looked up to see Sam giving him that shy, hesitant smile that had charmed a thousand unsuspecting people into giving up their secrets and he flushed at the direction his thoughts had taken. Sam looked at him quizically for a moment and then grinned. He knelt on the floor in front of the bed and rested his hand on Dean's cheek. Dean unconsciously leaned into the touch and Sam smiled softly. "It's alright, big brother," he whispered. "It's alright."
Dean's last thought beforehisSam'slips brushed his was "Oh yeah, I'm going to Hell, but it'll so be worth it.".
The End