Author's Note This kink totally trashes any semblance of good writing I thought I had. /dies

A fanfiction request from the lovely iheartjohnlock via tumblr. If you'd enjoy a fic from me, please, by all means request!

"Dean, please just lie still." Sam counsels his brother back onto the bed. Dean's face is nearly smothered into the pillow as his younger brother bears down on his back. A giant gash sending splitting pains all throughout the elder Winchester's body. He shook at the pressure Sam was leaning on him, but stifled the whimpers.

"Dammit, Sammy." Dean mutters, clinging to the hotel bedsheets. He leaned his forehead into the pillow now, swallowing back more painful moans.

"If you'd just stop moving, I wouldn't have-"

"Then stop putting so much pressure- god!"

"Suck it up. I'm done." Sam gripped, sending his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs up. "Man, we have got to stop running into fifty different supernatural creatures simultaneously."

"Dean grunted as he turned himself over, sitting up slowly. He winced at the pain, his body shaking slightly more each few inches of progress.

"Woah, woah, not today." Sam applied minimal pressure to Dean's chest as he backed him down on the bed. Sam was careful not to touch any of the other varies nicks and bruises on Dean, but there were so many that it was hard to get away with.

Sam over looked his brother's body. His bare chest was littered with black and blue spots and cluttered with cuts and gashes. Sam made the attempt of cleaning them and patching them up, but Dean got grumpier and grumpier as he started loosing energy. His facade was wearing off, but Sam reveled in these small moments of pure, whole Dean. He was bitchy and annoying, but it was nice to see what his older brother was really like.

"Get some rest." Sam goaded, pulling the covers over Dean's body. Dean childishly pushed them back off him. They were now rested messily at his torso.

"Dude, no. I'm not sleeping until we kill that son of a bitch." Dean shot up. Sam shook his head when Dean yelled some assortment of profane words.

"Fine." Sam was frustrated with him now and the best thing for him to do was walk away. He decided to check out some more facts on the shifter they had just come across. They've heard about them plenty of times before now, seeing as almost every hunter has encountered one in their career. Sam and Dean were just lucky enough to meet one tonight.

They had recently been on a hunt for a ghost. The description was some vague form of an elderly man, approximately forty to fifty, who would constantly whisper "too much, too much". The victims' closest relatives didn't have much do say about them as the victims themselves had gone crazed shortly before their death. Most were admitted to a mental hospital, all to later die of a heart attack. The cause of death, description, and even the mental hospital were all connected. Each hospital was owned by the same company and operated all within two hundred miles of each other. At first they ruled out a possible ghost attack on account of the minute distance a ghost can travel. Later they concluded that each victim possessed a pinky ring bought and sold to several pawn shops around the area. They were in the midst of burning the object that was keeping the ghost from passing on, but that was when the shifter showed up. They still aren't aware of what it was doing or how it had come upon them, but they had to be careful now. They knew too little about it and it knew a little too much about them.

Sam situated himself on his bed furthest from the hotel door, settling his laptop on his thighs. Dean was on his feet, trying to walk off some of the lingering pain.

"We should get burgers." He proclaimed, tugging on his t-shirt fixedly, pulling his face in a grimace at the pain.

"In your condition, I don't think so." Sam said flatly, not even bothering to look up at Dean.

"Come on man, I'm starving. Cut your bro some slack, I just got manhandled by a look-a-like Sammy."

"It's not my fault you can't tell the difference between me and a doppelganger."

"Hey, shut up. That thing knew exactly what to say and how to say it."

"Well that gives us all the more reason to sit down and research it. We have to find a way to kill it so we can get rid of the ghost, too."

Dean huffed, ambling to the bathroom. "Bitch" he muttered under his breath and clicked the door closed, harshly.

Sam smiled, sighing a "Jerk" back at him loud enough to get a grunt out of Dean.

"By the way, what did it ask you about?" Sam called to Dean. Dean stiffened, thanking the one object shielding Sam from his now disgruntled stance.

"Uhh... nothing. Said nothing." Dean's falsity tone was evident, even if Sam could barely hear it.

"You're gonna have to learn to talk to me, Dean. I know we haven't had much time together- and a lot of that is my fault- but still. We need to be on the same page in these types of situations."

Dean cracked open the door, peering out through the slight cleave. Sam was focused intently on his laptop, but he had that stressed and pensive expression smeared across his face. Dean emerged from the bathroom slowly, taking a deep breath just before fully opening the door.

"Well, it was just like you. Sam bitchy tone, bunched up eyebrows, and the puppy dog look."

"I do not have a puppy dog look." Sam demurred, etching a disesteeming expression into his face.

"You totally have a puppy dog look. You use it on victims we question all the time."

"Stop trying to dodge the question." Sam's face was stiff now. It was serious, and Dean didn't enjoy serious. "What did he tell you?"

Sam's voice chopped each word out, driving the point straight into Dean's face. He wanted to know more than just for the case. He probably had personal reasons. That got Dean thinking.

"Wait, are you afraid it said something a little too personal? Eh?" Dean was smirking now, taking on his newly found edge. He was getting out of this whether Sammy liked it or not.

"I asked first." Sam pushed back, turning his head slightly and eying Dean harshly. "Don't make this about me."

"Ah, so there was something." Dean lifted his chin up, eying his brother back with an akin ferocity.

"No. Dean, this isn't fair." Sam was on his feet now, his nostrils beginning to flare. His lips were pursed into a fine, tight line. He was beyond serious now with a slight glimmer of light flickering in his eyes. He seemed almost broken. "This is was the final step to Stanford, you know that? This... this stalemate between us. You brush it off as some stupid 'chick-flick' moment, but it's so much more than that Dean. I want to be able to know you and to understand what you are going through. But you just don't get it."

Sam was upon him now, his hands tightly balled into Dean's grey tee. The taller man towered easily over the other, pushing his face close to Dean's.

"I care about you, Dean. I care so god damn much, it's unbelievable. But you just won't let me in; you won't let anyone in."

Sam's face grew soft, letting go of Dean's shirt after witness a few twitches of pain in his brother's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Dean breathed on his face.

Sam peered deeper into his eyes, not bothering to move away.

"Don't be sorry. Just let me be your sentimental little brother." Sam's face was inching closer and closer and Dean froze. He didn't know what to do with his brother's sweet breath trailing along his face. Sam had gotten so taller; he was even taller than before he left for Stanford.

"Sammy... there are just things a guy's gotta keep to himself, ya know?"

"Not everything, Dean." Sam's mouth was frowning now and Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from it. He flickered his gaze from Sam's mouth to his glowing hazel eyes and back again.

"Dammit, Sammy." Dean leaned in, pressing his lips lightly onto his brother's. Sam's breath hitched for a moment, his shoulders rising tightly. He relaxed as he felt his older brother's hand on the small of his back. Dean's hand lingered there even after they broke their bated contact.

Without thinking, Sam hurled his brother onto the bed behind them. Dean winced slightly, but the pain fluttered away when Sam's body was atop his own. His little brother's knees dug into his sides tenderly and Dean through his head back. Sam was planting dusty kisses all along his neck and shoulder. Sam scooted lower on Dean's body, gliding his hands along it carefully. Sam helped Dean into a sitting position, peeling off the grey tee. The wounds hadn't gotten much better, but Sam couldn't hold back anymore. A gnawing vibe rushing throughout his body.

"What did it say to you?" Sam started to add bites between the soft kisses. Small and harmless at first, but they soon grew deeper as Dean ignored the question.

"Ah, Sammy." He moaned, sliding his hand up his brother's back. "He... he said..." Dean trailed off, addling in this newly revived affection for his brother. It'd been buried deep in his subconscious since Sam had left for Stanford. He never admitted it to Sam, but now he almost wished he could go back and say it a hundred times over.

"Tell me, Dean. Please." Sam was begging now and Dean enjoyed it. He enjoyed it too damn much.

Forcing against every muscle, ache, and sore in his body, he flipped the two over. Dean now straddled Sam tightly, pushing him down into the bed, hindering any such turn around.

"It said it wished it'd never left for Stanford." Dean was doing the teasing now, kissing, sucking, biting, everything to Sam's neck. "It wished it'd could take back all the awful crap it had said to me. It pleaded for us to be back as brothers again- true brothers." Dean lifted his assault from Sam to look at him. "It said he wouldn't mind growing beyond brothers, either."

Sam smiled with a mixture of smirk. Dean kissed it, brimming his tongue against Sam's moistened lips. Sam invited Dean's tongue with no reluctance. Their mouths gnawed at each other menacingly in effort to taste every inch of each other's. Dean's hands started to roam now. First from Sam's jaw, to his neck, shoulders, chest. He sneaked his arms around Sam's growing biceps and they surprised Dean.

"You've been working out, or something?" Dean inquired just before chewing on his brother's lower lip.

"Getting back into hunting- ah!" Sam cut off with a gasp. Dean slowly brushing his hips into Sam's. Dean enjoyed seeing and hearing these new expression Sam was making.

"You want me." Dean annotated, repeating his action with a quicker and more defined pace. Sam was enjoying this about as much as Dean was.

"God... you're so egotistical." Sam puffed, bucking his hips up into Dean's.

Dean's pain was bided weakly. Some of the pain was creeping up on him, but Sam's moans and slurs crammed it back down. Dean grabbed a handful on the bed's comforter, grinding harder into Sam. He could feel himself nearing and Dean was barely able to stop himself. His let go of the fabric in favor of scudding over Sam's torso to under the hem of his shirt. He pushed himself up, pulling on the shirt. Sam lifted his arms up and out of the green long-sleeved barrier. Feeling Sam's bare chest against his was almost enough to stop Dean in his tracks. But a needy whimper from Sam jolted his arouse again, moving his hands to Sam's pants. With just his index finger and thumb, he easily popped the button of Sam's pants.

"Oh god." Sam breathed, digging his hand into Dean's shoulder. Sam silently thanked for having just one spot he could dig into without causing harm to his brother.

"Is this what you want, Sammy?" Dean was serious now, but he was still rocking his hips deeply into Sam.

"Yes." He moaned, returning the desirable action.

"You need me to stop, you say so." Dean's voice was almost brotherly now despite the bulge in his pants. Sam locked his eyes with Dean's, nodding slowly and firmly.

"I want you."

Dean swallowed deeply, trying to get the lump out of his throat. His heart was beating against his ribcage more rapidly than he had ever felt before. No woman he'd slept with had had this effect on him. Not even a tenth of these feelings crept up on him as they were doing now.

"Dammit, Sammy." Dean's ragged breath moved all over Sam's face. Sam tilted his head back, acting too much like a girl. But maybe that helped Dean with the next steps he took.

Dean's fingers slowly laced their way around Sam's cock after quickly pushing his way into his little brother's boxers. Sam's breath eluded him then and only the light kisses Dean was giving him made his lungs start working again. Sam didn't know whether to drive his hips up hard or let his legs spread wider.

"Dean." Sam's voice was ragged now, too, and Dean marveled in his handiwork. He had Sam withering within the first five minutes his first rough handjob. Dean hadn't been with a guy before out of pure preference. Obviously he didn't have much of a problem with it; at least he didn't have a problem with that guy being Sam, anyway.

"Dean." Sam said again, edging closer. Dean had to stave off his orgasm just enough for Sam to start.

Just a little more, just a little more. Dean recycled the sentence in his head, forcing back a moan of his own. Sam was breather faster and harder now, moving his his faster and stronger.

"Come for me, Sammy." Dean breathed in the crook of his neck, sending electric sensations throughout Sam.

"Dean!" Sam vociferated, pumping his hips up into Dean's hand as he rode out his orgasm. Dean was cumming now, too, whispering Sam's name into his little brother's ear. It was the first time he ever knew his partner's name. And it was the first time he vocalized anymore than huffs of air. He felt so vulnerable and out there. He didn't know what to do, think, or say. After he had let go of Sam and toppled over to lay at his side, Dean was lost. He was going to see Sam again. He was going to talk to him again and he was going to remember this day for the rest of his life save any supernatural phenomenon. He was almost scared, but more so lost than anything.

"What do we do now?" Dean baited back his strangled breaths. He wasn't going to own up to being scared.

"We go for round two?" Sam catechized, reclaiming himself atop Dean. Dean grinned widely, quite proud of his younger brother.

"Oh god yes, please!" Dean drew his brother in for a long, deep kiss. He was still afraid, but he'd deal. Just like he'd deal with the pain. He'd ride it through, proud and strong. And the fears that would show themselves later would get the same treatment.

For now, it was Sam and Dean and Dean and Sam. Nothing else mattered in the least.