Dean jogged back across the street to the motel. He really missed the days of the information superhighway when answers were just a click away. Lucifer had been back in the box for nearly six months now, but the Croatian virus had taken it's devastating toll years ago. Things were starting to get back to normal, gas was more readily available for one, but it there was still a long road ahead before they were back to internet access.
Tracking Lucifer on limited information hadn't been too challenging, just head for the biggest catastrophe that everyone was talking about. Now that Lucifer was gone and Dean was back to regular hunter duties, tracking down a job was more of a chore. Even with all the nasties left over from the Apocalypse, it could take a full week of talking to travelers and listening to the limited selection of radio broadcasts to find something.
Dean had a double stroke of luck today though. Not only had he found a job within 200 miles, but their motel got the hot water back on. And not water boiled in a cauldron and hauled to a communal room hot water. Hot water in a water heater hot water. Dean could take a shower and get hot water for more than two minutes. Thus his haste to get back to the room.
He was going to keep this particular piece of information to himself until he'd had the opportunity to take advantage of it. Sam could just wait. His brother had certainly done worse things since Cas had dragged his body back topside without it's soul. Dean was due for a little payback.
Dean slipped the key in the door and opened it. One advantage to the technological back slide was the return to physical keys. It was way easier and cheaper to break into places now. No key cards or fancy electric security systems around anymore. Although, now that Lucifer wasn't around to drive the Apocalypse, the rich would probably soon be attempting to reestablish such things.
"Sam?" he called as he entered. There was no answer. A quick survey of the room showed that Sam's running shoes were missing. Perfect.
Soulless Sam neither ate nor slept, but he sure ran enough. Enough to give Dean a little peace at any rate. Dean tried not to wonder what Sam did while Dean was asleep. He was pretty sure whatever it was wasn't good and would just make him angry. He already had enough reasons to be angry with Not Sam.
Dean guessed he had at least a half hour before the soulless giant showed back up. He stripped and climbed into the shower. The water warmed quickly, then got downright hot. Dean couldn't bring himself to turn the heat down. It itched and tingled as it cascaded over his skin. He turned his face up to the spray. His hand drifted down his body.
Dean pulled at himself lazily. He slid his thumb over the head. The slick pre-cum quickly washed away in the deluge.
There was muffled thump from the main room, then the door was open. Completely disregarding any standards of personal space and decency, Sam stepped into the bathroom. Dean barely had time to let go of himself before Sam was shouldering his way in. "Move over," Sam grunted.
"What the Hell are you doing?" Dean shouted. His voice echoed back at him from the bare walls, the stained and yellowed plastic uncaring of his predicament.
"Showering," Sam said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Dean was an idiot for asking. He ducked his head under the shower head, completely blocking Dean out from the hot stream.
"Wait your fucking turn!" Dean shouted.
Sam looked back at him, eyes catching on Dean's still hard penis.
"I could help with that," he offered. It threw Dean for a loop. Not only had Sam noticed, he'd commented on it in a very matter of fact way, like he was offering to help hang a picture or detail the car. There were so many things wrong with this scenario. With incidents like this, Dean couldn't believe it'd taken him so long to figure out there was something wrong with Sam when he came back. Not that Sam had been this obvious back when he was still trying to hide it.
Dean gave the soulless bastard a calculated push as he exited the shower. As intended, Sam slipped and landed hard on his ass.
Soulless Sam was never one to be deterred for long though. His long arm snaked out of the shower and caught Dean's ankle. "What's your problem, man?"
Dean looked at Sam's hand, then locked eyes with him. It was a fierce battle of wills made more than a little ridiculous by the fact they were both butt naked and Sam was crouched at Dean's feet like some kind of supplicant. Water beaded on his skin and slid down his sides in rivulets as the shower continued to pelt his body.
"You want to get off and I'm willing to lend a hand." He looked proud of himself for the double entendre.
"You're my brother," Dean fired back, his erection stubbornly refusing to go away.
Sam let go. "Right, the incest thing." He shrugged and sat back in the shower. He tilted his head up to the spray and opened his mouth. For a brief, bizarre moment Dean could imagine that mouth wrapped around his dick. Sam spat the water out, the clear liquid looking disconcertingly like cum.
"You know, incest used to be popular among royalty," Sam mused. "Kept the royal blood in the family."
"'Cause that worked out so well." Dean didn't know why he was still standing there. He should storm out and get dressed. But he'd been there first and he wasn't finished. Now the jackass lounging on the floor was using up all his hot water. He should just give it up as a lost cause. But Dean wasn't one to give up just because the cause was lost.
"Exactly." Sam said, gesturing triumphantly. "Incest got a bad name from the faulty progeny it turned out. You and I would obviously have no product from a union. So, it wouldn't be worse than any gay relationship."
Dean threw up his hands. "That logic could only come from someone without a soul."
Sam was on his feet and in Dean's personal space before Dean even registered the motion. The fucking exercise junkie was certainly well coordinated.
Sam's body trapped Dean against the door. One hand bracketed Dean's head, like the sole remaining bookend on an abandoned shelf. The other hand rested low on Dean's belly. It weighed heavy and warm and made Dean's stomach flip in a not entirely unpleasant way.
He willed his expression to remain angry, but the eyes that looked down at him weren't Satan's. When Lucifer wore his brother, it had been easy to hate the body that used to be his brother's. But now the eyes that stared back at him were undeniably Sammy's. They were an empty, hollow version of Sammy, but nonetheless it was still his brother.
Sam's hand drifted down Dean's skin. Dean had survived five years without his brother. Five years without his companionship and camaraderie. Five years without his annoying habits, their bickering, or the way they kept each other human. Five years in a desert wasteland.
Now, here before him was this pale, misty, washed out version that was Sam and so very not Sam. Even the mist was better than the drought.
Sam's hand closed around Dean's dick. Dean closed his eyes.
Sam stroked Dean's penis, slow and cautious. It was as if he were befriending a dog he thought might very well turn and bite him. Dean pressed his head back against the door, distracting himself with the dull pain in the back of his skill. His hands fisted at his sides.
Sam's motions because more confident when Dean didn't stop him. Dean felt the shift of the grip on his cock. The heat of Sam's body as he moved in closer. The air he breathed as he leaned in. Then the slick wetness of his mouth was on Dean's skin. Sam didn't try to kiss him on the lips. Apparently, even without a soul he knew that would be too far. He licked the sweat and steam from Dean's neck and shoulders. Sucked marks into Dean's skin.
Then Sam shifted and Dean felt Sam's dick against his own. He stifled a moan, both turned on and horrified at his own reaction. He put his hands to Sam's hips, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Simply maintaining that electric touch.
Sam's mouth left Dean's body. He felt his brother lean back to look at him, but Dean stubbornly refused to open his eyes. The muscles at Sam's waist rippled and shifted. Even over the sound of the still running shower Dean could hear Sam's breathing, steady and even.
"Dean." It was undeniably Sammy's voice. One of the thousands of ways he'd said Dean's name. For that voice, Dean opened his eyes - to be greeted by the green depths of Sammy's.
Dean needed this. This connection. Any connection to fill the void left inside him by the loss of the man before him.
Dean released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He leaned in and kissed Sam. It was a tender kiss. The kind of kiss that spoke of love, regret, and longing for a relationship long gone.
Sam returned what Dean gave. Having gotten what he wanted, he was obviously willing to step back and let Dean lead.
The kiss quickly degenerated to needy desire. Dean's hands went to Sam's length, one stroking his dick, the other cradling his balls. Then he was palming Sam, rubbing his own penis against Sam's. Sam was quick to oblige, moving his hand to let their dicks rub together.
Dean's hips thrust reflectively. He lifted a hand to tangle in Sam's perpetually too long locks. Sam relinquished control to Dean and braced his hands against the door, thrusting against his brother.
Dean pulled Sam's head in relentlessly, bruising both their lips. Ignoring when the tender flesh got caught between their teeth. He thrust his tongue into his brother's mouth and this time he couldn't stifle the moan.
The sound drove Sam faster. The contact of skin on skin began to chafe. Dean flicked a finger over the aching heads of both their penises and spread pre-cum between them. At this little maneuver he had to give up Sam's lips to focus on breathing.
His cum-slick hand slid easily over both of them. He fisted his other hand in Sam's hair, drawing a grunt from the other man. At the sound Dean came, cum covering his brother's sculpted abs.
Sam had the decency to wait until Dean's cock stopped twitching before pulling back. Or maybe he'd just had to wait for Dean to relax the death grip on his hair.
Dean looked up into Sammy's green, green eyes and his brother's voice said "Finish it."
Dean knew instantly what Sam meant. He dropped to his knees. It was with both relief and shame that he took his brother into his mouth. He'd watched women do it a hundred times. Knew what felt good and what to avoid.
He used his hands to work what wouldn't fit between his lips. He pulled back and licked the sensitive underside in a maneuver he liked, then set to sucking on it with a will.
Soulless or not, Sam didn't last much longer than Dean had. Cum came hot and fast into Dean's mouth. He stayed there until the spasms stopped, then stood. He spat what hadn't already leaked down the back of his throat into the sink.
He turned back to Sam, angry and defiant. "Get the fuck out."
Sam looked at him with surprise. Then his gaze followed Dean's to the shower. "Dude," he laughed. "The hot water is all gone." But he obligingly opened the door and headed buck naked into the other room.
"Don't ever interrupt me in the shower again," Dean yelled after him, slamming the door.