2nd Happiness

Sam frowned as he sat on the bed, thinking of what he did to Dean. Feelings of jealousy and guilt were warring inside him.

Getting my soul back wasn't really the best idea, he thought, as he remembered Dean leaving Lisa's and going back on the road with him. He was jealous, there was no denying that. The thought of Lisa being able to give Dean the life he deserved, a house, safety, comfort, everything that Sam wanted to give for years, but couldn't, because he was too afraid to even admit. Sam felt the emptiness in his gut grow bigger. Sam was only pain for Dean. Time after time, he only contributed to the marks on Dean's face that gave him the look of a man who went through the worst paths of life. He actually did, and Sam was the one responsible for them. Tears started to well up in his eyes. How could he even think that he deserved to tell what he felt to Dean? How could he even ask for a chance to make Dean happy? After all his failures…

And then there was guilt. He was sick to his stomach thinking how he practically dragged Dean out of that life, out of what he should've been living right now. He was a burden, and he hated himself for it. There was no apology big enough to make up for what he put Dean through all his life, taking care of him, looking after him, having his back.

So he held his head between his hands, pressed up against each side of his face, as if he was trying to bash his head in. Thank god Dean was out stocking up on supplies... He didn't have to explain this to him.

Thus, he was caught off guard when Dean walked in, flashing a radiant smile at Sam. It disappeared the minute he processed the look on Sam face. A mix of surprise and agony.

Sam shot up, trying to look okay, but he was failing. He couldn't put up his walls in time, and Dean was busting through them, seeing Sam's pain with all its nakedness.

Dean slowly walked over to the bed and kneeled before Sam. Putting a hand on Sam's shoulder, face winced with the pain he saw in Sam's eyes. He hated seeing Sam in pain, it was his worst nightmare and he felt so helpless just looking from the outside, having to ask.

"What's wrong? Are you trying to remember what you did again? Man I thought those headaches were enough for you to understand what might happen to you if you scratch the wall. You already started remembering some days, just don't try anymore Sammy." Dean pleaded, assuming the pain was physical, he had no idea what was going on inside Sam's mind. He brushed Sam's arm and his hand traveled down to Sam's knee, resting there reassuringly.

Sam didn't reply. He only lifted his gaze, and stared into Dean's eyes. What he was about to do could risk everything he had with Dean. He'd be throwing their whole relationship out the window. Dean could slug him, throw him out and never speak to him again. Or worse, he could hate Sam. But Sam didn't have the strength to keep himself restrained anymore. For years he'd calculated every reaction he'd given to Dean, tiptoeing around him, trying to keep this to himself. He'd jerk off in the shower, thinking about the only person he wanted, just outside the bathroom, completely oblivious to what Sam felt.

He'd stabbed himself in the heart when he told Dean to go start a life with Lisa. Because that's what Dean deserved, and that was what Sam was most afraid of. Dean being happy without him. He was selfish for thinking that. And he was selfish for what he was about to do, but to hell with it! He was too tired, and too weak. He had to know.

He leaned down, and pressed his lips against Dean's, having a wave of relief and safety wash over him, lifting the weight of the secret off his shoulders. His lips were shy, and trembling against Dean's. A moment later, the weight of guilt and anticipation replaced the old. He broke the kiss, staying only a breath away from Dean and he closed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the punch that was to arrive. Long seconds passed, and there was nothing. His eyes fluttered open, and locked on Dean's open mouth, breathing heavy and shiny. They tasted so good, like a slice of heaven, and they looked even better.

He hesitated at first, kept his eyes down, afraid of seeing hate in Dean's eyes. But he started this, he might as well see it through. Slowly he looked up and saw Dean, eyes closed, face relaxed and not hate at all.

Sam's hands cupped Dean's cheeks, and Dean opened his eyes, looking deep into Sam, love, and a little pinch of shock to go with it.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry…" The words were pouring out of him and it was too late to stop now, he had to let it all out. " I'm sorry for everything that I caused you, I'm sorry for taking your one shot at a good life, I'm sorry for all the pain, I'm so sorry Dean. I was only trouble for you, nothing but dead weight. But… but I couldn't help it, I mean, I wanted to give you all of it, myself, and I couldn't and Lisa could and I couldn't stop myself Dean. I… I'm sorry, I couldn't make you happy." When Sam was finished there were wet tear tracks down his cheeks, his slight panting getting them to shine at different angles under the light.

He turned his face, hid his pain from Dean's inquiring eyes. The he felt warm fingers brushing against his skin, wiping his tears away.

Dean's low and cracked voice reached Sam's ear. "Sam… You have nothing to be sorry for. You're here, aren't you? That's all I need. Look, when you told me to go live with Lisa, I was mad at you. I was mad at you for not seeing what I was trying to show you. And I felt guilty, Sammy. I felt so guilty leaving you in there, going and living some fucked up apple pie life. I didn't realize it back then. I knew something was missing, but I didn't know it was you. And not… not only in an 'I miss my brother' way… It was something else Sammy. Lisa… she is a good woman. But she… I needed you Sammy." Dean's voice was lost in a whisper at the end.

Sam turned to face Dean, dumbstruck at the turn this whole thing took. He expected to be kicked out, left alone, and there Dean was, saying he felt the same thing the whole time, saying he would give Sam a second chance.

Then Dean crushed his lips with a bruising kiss. A soft sob escaped Sam's lips and Dean took it in, fixing Sam's pain with each touch of flushed lips and fingertips.

They broke apart with the overwhelming need of air, looking at each other, still processing what just happened.

"You… I want to make you happy Dean, I'm not gonna screw up this time." Sam whispered.

"Sammy…" Dean didn't finish his words, pushing Sam onto the bed, hovering over him, kissing the breath out of him.

Sam's hands roamed over his ribs, his back; then found their way to the hemline of Dean's shirt and pulled them over his head, leaving Dean bare-chested, all exposed for Sam to see. Quickly Sam took his own shirt off then grabbed Dean by the neck, pressing them together, covering his lips with his own.

Dean took Sam's scent in, that musk he pathetically tried to resist all these years. He remembered the times when they were sitting in the car, silent after a hunt, and Dean could smell Sam's musk, magnified by the sweat they broke and he'd use all his remaining strength to keep his hands to himself and not press Sam up against the passenger door and take him right there, hard and hot.

The thoughts sent shivers down his body, hardening his cock behind his jeans, pressed against Sam's half hard cock, able to feel it over the denim. His hands grabbed Sam's wrists and pulled them over his head, pressing them to the pillows, and his mouth licked and kissed a trail down to Sam's neck, playing at the sensitive skin there, getting Sam to let out the rawest sounds he'd ever heard. It was amazing, and his cock was painfully hard now.

He let go of Sam's wrists, and moved further down to a nipple, covering it, sucking and flicking, feeling the blood bubble up and heat up under his tongue, getting the nipple to stand up. After giving the same attention to the other nipple, Dean got off of Sam, eliciting a discontent moan out of him. He yanked Sam's pants and boxers off him, and quickly slipped off his own before getting back on the bed and without giving Sam a chance to breathe, kissing him deep and hard, owning.

Their cocks jumped at the feel of hardness brushing up against them. Dean started rolling his hips over on Sam's, stroking Sam with his own cock. They were wet and slick with pre-come over their bellies.

Dean let out a muffled moan when Sam started to match his rhythm, grinding towards Dean's cock, the friction growing at an impossible speed.

Dean was biting at Sam's lip, drawing blood, and kissing his neck, sucking a series of bruises down the hollow of Sam's neck. Reminders that he was all Dean needed…

Sam's hands shot up at Dean's back, clawing, trying to keep his orgasm from building, but Dean was right there with him, close to his own explosion.

Dean broke the kiss and reached a hand down to their cocks, grabbing both of them at once, squeezing, pressing the slits together and rubbing hard.

Sam groaned in sobs dipped in pleasure and started bucking his hips up, fucking into Dean's cock and hand wrapped up around him.

Dean teased them for minutes before he felt himself peaking, impossibly close to his orgasm. He leaned close and breathed against Sam's ear. "Come on Sammy. Let go."

And then sweet electrifying nerves, the tightening of balls shot through them. The both pulsed into Dean's hand, lips trapped between their teeth, shivering with each wave of their orgasm pumping frantically out of them. Their muscles clenched into knots as they came all over Sam's stomach, living and drowning inside pleasure as one. Their cocks continued to pulse a while after they were done covering Sam's stomach with shiny beads.

Dean rubbed them with a steady teasing rhythm, multiplying the afterglow as they rode it out and Dean collapsed onto Sam's chest, face nuzzled into the hollow of his neck, breathing heavy. They ignored the slick sticky mess between them as they started to drift off into sleep.

"You already make me happy, Sammy." Dean mumbled before he closed his eyes and let sleep claim them both.