I. Own. NOTHING. Except this hot fantasy I just had to write down for prosperity.
I want some pie now.
I'm hurting, baby, I'm broken down
I need your loving, loving
I need it now
When I'm without you
I'm something weak
You got me begging, begging
I'm on my knees
I don't wanna be needing your love
I just wanna be deep in your love
And it's killing me when you're away, ooh, baby,
'Cause I really don't care where you are
I just wanna be there where you are
And I gotta get one little taste
Your sugar
Yes, please
Won't you come and put it down on me?
I'm right here, 'cause I need
Little love, a little sympathy
Yeah, you show me good loving
Make it alright
Need a little sweetness in my life
Your sugar
Yes, please
Won't you come and put it down on me?
-"Sugar" by Maroon 5
"Sammy, where you going? My dick's cold!" Dean whined from his warm spot curled under the covers.
Sam rolled his eyes as he continued to crawl out of bed naked as the day he was born. "Taking a shower. Some of us have actual things to do today."
He could feel Dean's answering leer as he walked away. "I did you."
"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"Yup."
When he shut the door to the bathroom Sam finally let the weight of his heavy heart wash over him. Leaning against the door, he allowed his legs to give way until his bare ass was huddled on the cold, hard, yellow-tiled floor.
Dean was so not okay and he was only getting worse with every passing second. It wasn't so much anything obvious, like bouts of uncontrollable rage or feeling the urge to kill, but the little things. The way his smile didn't reach his eyes even when an Indiana Jones marathon was on TV. The double bacon cheeseburger he'd left half unfinished. The absence of light in those beautiful bright green irises. The Mark of Cain was slowly but surely eating away at Dean until there was nothing left.
Dean was tired of fighting it. So tired. And there was nothing Sam could do to help.
But Sam was a selfish bastard, so he was going to force Dean to fight a little longer.
This is stupid. So fucking stupid. What would Dean say if he knew? I should get out of here before anyone sees me- Sam was snapped out of his thoughts by a perky blonde woman who definitely looked like she knew her way around a kitchen, effectively ending all thoughts of escaping without being noticed before the class even started.
"Hello, my name is Mabel! Welcome to Mabel's The Wonders of Baking Class! First, we are going to start at the very beginning and learn our way around the kitchen, okayyyy?" She said with a distinctly Texan drawl, smiling widely, fire-engine-red lipstick easily seen from across the room.
Sam internally groaned.
When Sam arrived back at the bunker from his very first awkward attempt at navigating a kitchen with the intent of making anything other than a sandwich, he was hoping his brother would be otherwise occupied so as not to notice his absence, but it was not to be. Dean was waiting at the kitchen table with a barely concealed anger written on his tired face.
It had been so long since Sam had seen any kind of real emotion on Dean's face that he couldn't help but just stare at its beauty. So beautiful. Always so beautiful.
"Where were you?" Dean snapped when Sam just stood in the doorway looking like an idiot.
"Huh, oh, um, I was," Sam stammered, momentarily caught off guard by the masterpiece that is his brother's face, "at a library a few towns over checking on a lead of a kind of, uh, demonology book I hadn't seen before."
"So where is it," Dean questioned, raising his eyebrows in a way that Sam knew meant he didn't believe him. He couldn't blame Dean, that lie was sorry even for him. Damn his brother and his stupid, perfect face. It wasn't fair that he was the only one left awestruck in this relationship.
"…It didn't work out."
"Uh-huh."
"Look Dean, I just-"
"Save it, Sam." Dean snapped as he shot out of his chair and walked away. The chair fell to the floor with a loud thunk that rang in Sam's ears long after it had died away.
"Good morning class and welcome to Mabel's The Wonders of Baking Class! Today, we're going to start actually baking something. This week, it's cookies, yay!"
Dean was doing some research of his own this week down in the next state over, so if Sam hurried home and arrived before Dean then his brother would never have to know he was gone. Sam was lucky that the community center was within walking distance of the bunker or he'd be screwed.
Everyone in the class got to work gathering the needed supplies at their stations and Sam did the same. He was in the middle of searching for a bowl big enough to mix the dough in when the petite woman to his right said in a tiny voice, "So, what are ya in for?"
"Huh?"
"Well, you're acting like this is some kind of jail sentence or something. So I'm asking you what you're crime is, I guess."
Sam chuckled. She seemed like a nice woman, and most everyone else in the class seemed oddly standoffish for this being a cooking class, so he didn't see the harm in engaging in conversation with her. "It's my br-boyfriend. I'm just trying to do a little something for him. He's been pretty down lately, and I figured a little something sweet might… help? But I have no experience in the kitchen, so… here I am."
"You're so sweet! I'm actually here for something similar. My girlfriend wanted some cake the other day, and I mentioned I could try to make one, and she laughed so hard she almost choked on her cereal. So basically I'm here to make her eat her words. I'm Belle," she said, holding out her black fingernail-polished hand.
"Sam," he said, holding out his own hand. She smiled prettily.
"Care to be my partner, Sam-I-am?"
"Let's."
Two weeks later
Sam set the piping-hot blueberry pie down on the kitchen table with trembling hands. This was it. Judgement Day. He felt incredibly stupid for feeling so nervous about something so trivial as pie, but he couldn't help it. This wasn't just pie, it was pie he'd made. Sure, he'd had to go through a couple other attempts to get one that looked edible, but he'd done it.
He waited an hour for the pie to cool before packaging it inside a nondescript white box that looked as if it could have come straight out of a bakery in Anywhere, USA. Dean came home not ten minutes after that, obnoxiously announcing his presence with a shouted, "Honey, I'm home. What's for dinner, bitch?"
"Cheeseburgers, but they won't be ready for another hour," Sam answered when his brother entered the kitchen.
"You? Making cheeseburgers? Is it Opposite Day?"
"Shut up. I just felt like it, but if you don't want them…"
"No, I'll eat them." Dean sauntered over to Sam with his signature smirk and for a second Sam found it hard to concentrate on chopping up the lettuce. He wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and inhaled deeply. "I'll eat whatever you make, Sammy-hey, what's that?" Dean pointed at the white box on the kitchen table and padded over. The younger Winchester barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother's one track mind when it came to both sex and food. Especially food.
"It's a pie, dumbass-hey, wait for after dinner!" Sam chastised when Dean opened the box and was already cutting a slice.
"But I'm hungry now," Dean whined.
"You're incorrigible," Sam muttered. Apparently Dean took that as invitation and brought a huge forkful to his (luscious) mouth. Sam's pulse quickened and adrenaline flooded his veins in a way reminiscent of being on a hunt. Which was totally ridiculous, but such was Sam Winchester's life. After a moment of careful chewing he moaned in a way Sam had never heard before, and that's saying something, considering Dean was very vocal in bed.
"Sam. This is… the best pie I have ever had in my life. Ever. In my life. Seriously. Dude, you gotta try it." He stuffed another forkful in and said around it, "this is amazing."
"I'll contain my excitement and save it for after dinner," Sam said, going for nonchalance and trying to hide the way his heart was pounding against his ribcage and the stupid blush threatening to creep up.
"Oh well. More for me." Dean grinned and happily went back to chewing.
And so it went on. Sam kept bringing home different flavors of pie almost every week from "a bakery nearby." Sometimes he brought other treats he'd learned to make in class, but those never seemed to turn out quite as well. The pies were Dean's favorite anyway.
It was ten kinds of dumb, but… to see Dean's face light up when he bit into that piece of pie that Sam had made, even if Dean didn't know it… all the humiliation was worth it. He didn't know if it was the pie itself or simply the gesture of doing something for Dean, but his brother seemed… not quite so prone to bouts of hopelessness and despair? There was a bounce in his step that hadn't been there before at least. Sam was all too happy to put it there.
And then Sam came home one day to find his room in ruins: desk thrown and snapped in half on the opposite side of the room it was supposed to be, bed overturned, whatever books he'd been recently reading thrown everywhere, various odds and ends strewn across the floor and in some cases broken beyond repair, and Dean in the center of it all, holding a single scrap of paper with Belle's number scribbled across it.
Sam gaped at the state of his room in stunned silence. It looked like a tornado had hit it. Shit. Shit. Shit. Whatever he thought would happen, it wasn't this. Not like this. He could feel his brother's rage emanating from him like an aura, permeating the room with air so hot and thick and heavy Sam could barely stand to breathe it. This was SO not good.
"So," Dean growled, "Belle? Is that her name? She your new girl? Tell me Sammy, does she have a dog too?"
Sam had to gather every bit of his willpower to bring himself to meet Dean's eyes at that moment. He hadn't felt anything like this from his brother since—well, since he'd been a fucking demon. But it WAS his brother and Sam needed to calm him down right the fuck now.
"Dean, calm down. Let me explain-"
"Explain what? That you're gonna leave me for a girl? AGAIN? When were you planning on telling me this, huh? WHEN? FUCKING WHEN?" Dean shouted and threw one of the last surviving objects in the room—a lamp—into the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces.
Sam knew the feeling.
"Dean, she's just a friend. I wouldn't do that to you!"
"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Dean took a single menacing step forward and Sam felt what little control he'd had over the slip from his grasp.
"I wouldn't—I wouldn't—how could you think I'd-" Sam's breath started coming faster and faster, but he wasn't getting any air, why wasn't he getting any air, he couldn't fucking breath because Dean didn't fucking trust him and why should he, Dean didn't trust him, Dean didn't trust him—
"Sammy?" Dean's voice cut through the rising panic and Sam glanced up to his brother crouching in front of him with a concerned look on his face, only inches away. It should probably concern him that Dean had gone from murderous rage to overly concerned big brother in 0.2 seconds, but he just didn't have it in him. "Come on, breath, kiddo. Just breathe."
"She's just a friend, Dean," Sam choked out. "I would never… never…" He tried, but another breath just wouldn't come. It felt like he was choking on whatever miniscule amount of air was reaching him, and wouldn't that be so Sam? To not even be fit to breathe the same air as his brother?
"Sam, I believe you. I believe you, but you gotta calm down now. Don't talk, just breathe with me."
Sam did.
He couldn't bring himself to meet Dean's eyes even once, but he felt the comforting weight of his brother's hands on his shoulders and that was enough to ground him. It took a few minutes, but finally he was able to take in a breath without it feeling like it was trying to kill him.
When Sam felt halfway alive again he risked glancing at his brother. His green eyes held nothing but concern, but the tense shoulders and guarded expression told him something else.
"I'm gonna get you some water. Hold tight." Dean said in an obvious attempt at being casual. He stood up, but Sam got the sudden feeling that if Dean left now, they'd never get past this.
"No!" Sam cried and grabbed Dean's arm. "Don't go!"
"Sam, I'm just going to the-"
"No. Don't leave. Don't leave me, Dean," Sam whispered.
"If anyone's leaving anyone, I think it's you," Dean whispered in such a broken voice that it made Sam feel sick. His brother should never sound like that. Never.
"No, no, no, no, no, no-"
"…It's sick, Sam. Fucking disgusting. But I'm so pathetic I can't… I can't have you leaving me. So I don't care if you love that chick. I don't give a fuck if you'd rather be with her than me. Just please don't leave me. Don't leave me, that's all I ask-"
Sam had enough.
"Are you even hearing a fucking word I'm saying?" Sam shouted, words reverberating throughout the desolated room so that there would be no mistaking the desperation behind them.
Dean blinked, more taken aback than Sam had ever seen his brother before.
"I'm. Not. Leaving. You. Belle. Is. Just. A. Goddamn. Friend. I. Love. You. You. Irritating. Jerk." Sam hissed through gritted teeth.
"But-"
"No buts."
Dean was finally silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating Sam's words. He looked… shocked. As if Sam's love for him was news to him, when they'd been carrying this thing between them since they were teenagers. It had been broken and bent and twisted, but it had always fit, somehow. Sam had always made his love for Dean known, hadn't he?
"Why do you think I don't love you like that, Dean?" Sam whispered, looking anywhere but at his brother. After all, what if the reason was because Dean thought he wasn't capable of it? If he was so fucking broken he couldn't even love the most important person in his life?
Sam wouldn't blame him for thinking that.
Dean swallowed heavily and Sam's stomach churned. "Sam…"
"Answer the question."
He sighed and blinked rapidly before answering in a small voice, "Because it never made sense for you to love me, Sam. Why would you, strong, pure, beautiful, Sammy love little ol' Dean?"
"Because you're everything," Sam answered with no hesitation. "You are the brightest star, the purest light, and so beautiful it hurts every time I look at you, but I never want to stop. You are the world, Dean. And when you're gone, there's nothing, absolutely nothing, I can't think straight and I can't even breathe without being reminded of how wrong it is. I can't put into words how much I love you, because they could never be enough."
Sam hadn't even realized he was crying until he couldn't see his brother anymore for the tears. He angrily wiped them away with a shaking hand to see Dean trembling, tears running past his wide green eyes and slowly falling down his perfect face. His heart broke right then and there, until Dean shot out a trembling hand towards him.
He couldn't bear to be apart for one second longer either.
They met each other half way and fell into the other's arms, finally feeling whole only when they were touching. The soulmates clung to each for an indeterminable amount of time, but it felt like an eternity.
And that was fine with them.
"So," Dean started a couple hours later, seated at the kitchen table munching on a sandwich Sam had made for him, "if you weren't seeing some chick behind my back, where did you go for those two hours every week?"
Sam froze in the middle of chopping a tomato to go on his own sandwich. "Um… you see… I…" He could feel Dean tense behind him and knew he had to tell the truth. Lies were what got them here in the first place. But dammit, he really really really would rather not tell Dean he was taking baking classes like some kind of fucking housewife in training. Oh god, what if Dean called him a fucking housewife in training? But he took a deep breath and tried to sound casual when he said, "I was taking a class."
"A class?" Dean muttered through a mouthful of roast beef. "What kind of class? And why didn't you tell me in the first place?"
"It's… embarrassing."
"How embarrassing?"
"Like you may never look at me the same way again embarrassing."
"Lay it on me."
"Abakingclass."
"Did you just say-"
"Don't make me say it again," Sam groaned. This was it, this was the moment his brother was going to burst out laughing and call him the biggest girl on earth.
Right on cue, Dean snickered until it grew into a full on guffaw, a real belly laugh that he hadn't heard from his brother in years. He was even holding his stomach, he was laughing so hard, tears in the corner of his eyes.
Sam laughed along with him.
When they were done with dinner Dean didn't waste any time in starting on dessert. He immediately reached for the apple pie on the counter, still placed neatly in its plain white box. But as he sunk the knife in for the first slice the glee on his face turned into confusion.
"Something wrong?" Sam asked curiously.
"You took a baking class…"
"Yeah, we've been over this." Oh shit, Sam did not like where this conversation was going.
"And you've been bringing home pastries. In boxes with no indication as to where they came from. You've been cagey whenever I mentioned it."
"…"
Dean turned to his little brother and pinned him with his wide-eyed stare, lips already quirking up as if he already knew the answer. Which he probably did, smug bastard. "Sam, did you make those pies?"
"I, um, uh, may have, erm," Sam sputtered, "have… a f-few of, of them. Yeah."
Sam waited for the onslaught of ridicule surely heading his way, but when it didn't he chanced glancing at Dean. Sure, there was amusement clear in his eyes, but also some unnamed emotion that when he saw it, made Sam blush from head to toe.
"Aw, Sammy. You do love me. My sweet sweet little-"
"Say wife and you won't be getting any for a month," Sam threatened.
Dean wisely kept his mouth shut and went back to cutting the pie. He cut slices for him and Sam and put them on paper plates, but Sam caught him swiping a finger through the filling of the pie left in the box.
"Dean, come on," Sam chastised.
"What? This pie is practically orgasmic." Suddenly, a strange look came across Dean's face. His eyes grew a shade darker as he looked up at his brother. His plush lips turned up in a predatory smirk and he took a slow step towards Sam, every angle of his body oozing sex. "Speaking of orgasmic, Sammy…"
"I thought you wanted to have your pie," Sam said, mouth suddenly feeling a little too dry for comfort.
"Oh, I do. And I want to eat it too," Dean whispered, voice husky with lust. He totally sounded like he was in a bad porno, probably on purpose knowing Dean, but still Sam felt his blood heat at the sound of it.
He didn't know when exactly it happened, but before he realized it Dean had Sam pushed against the counter and his tongue down Sam's throat, their bodies already moving together and breathing together. Piece by piece clothes fell to the floor.
By the time Dean had Sam bent over the table, they were both painfully hard and leaking precome, and if Dean didn't just fuck him already Sam was going to take matters into his own hands. When Dean moved away to, Sam assumed, get lube but instead came back dripping pie filling from his fingers, Sam thought about protesting but decided he didn't really care at his point. He did shake his head in a long-suffering manner, earning a suggestive wink from his brother.
The pie filling was warm when Dean pushed the first finger past Sam's entrance, and the sensation was surprisingly pleasant. A second finger soon followed and Dean moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, finding Sam's prostate almost immediately. He'd had lots of practice after all.
The urge to bend over and lick some of that delicious appley goodness was too strong, so that's exactly what he did. Dean swiped his tongue over Sam's entrance, letting the warm filling wash over his tongue and gave a little moan himself, it was so good. He wanted more. He thrust his tongue into Sam's hole, deeper this time with his fingers spreading Sam open, effectively fucking him with his tongue.
With his little brother moaning and writhing beneath him, little pleas of "fuck me Dean, just fuck me already," Dean quickly added another finger, fucking Sam with his fingers and tongue until he was sure he was nice and stretched. It didn't take long; they fucked like rabbits normally so Sam was still a little loose from the night before.
He guided the head of his cock against Sam's entrance and pushed all the way inside in one fell swoop, the breathy gasp from his little brother making him impossibly even harder. He gave Sam a moment to adjust and thrust again and again, finding a rhythm that had Sam screaming his name with every thrust. He changed the angle slightly to get even deeper inside his brother, the need to be one with him overwhelming. It was all Sam could do to to hold on to the table for dear life as his brother pounded into him harder, deeper, and faster every time.
Sam fucking loved it.
"Yes," Sam moaned, vocabulary reduced to three very important words of "Faster, yes, Dean, Dean, Dean." He knew he probably sounded like some kind of slut right at home in the same porno as his brother, but he just didn't care as long as his brother kept making him see stars with every thrust.
Dean knew he wasn't going to last much longer, not with Sam moaning like a porn star. "Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come on my cock alone?"
Sam was beyond words at this point and cried out when Dean picked up the pace even more. He fought past the haze of sex for long enough to find the one word he wanted. "Together, Dean, together."
"Uh-huh." Dean felt the familiar heat pooling in his belly and his balls drawing up and thrust deep one more time. "Sam!" he cried out when he came buried deep inside his little brother, distantly hearing him scream "Dean!" at the same time, but he was too busy enjoying the way the world dropped out from under him and the stars dancing across his vision.
When he could see straight again he noticed his little brother was in much the same situation. Sam looked utterly fucked-out and blissed. Dean's limbs felt like jello, so he was content to just lean against Sam and enjoy being one for a little while longer.
"Don't think you're getting out of cleaning that mess you made in my room just because you fucked my brains out," Sam murmured sleepily from underneath him.
"But Sammy…" Dean whined.
My broken pieces
You pick them up
Don't leave me hanging, hanging
Come give me some
When I'm without ya
I'm so insecure
You are the one thing, one thing
I'm living for
I don't wanna be needing your love
I just wanna be deep in your love
And it's killing me when you're away, ooh, baby,
'Cause I really don't care where you are
I just wanna be there where you are
And I gotta get one little taste
Your sugar
Yes, please
Won't you come and put it down on me?
I'm right here,
'Cause I need
Little love, a little sympathy
Yeah, you show me good loving
Make it alright
Need a little sweetness in my life
Your sugar! (sugar!)
Yes, please (yes, please)
Won't you come and put it down on me?
-"Sugar" by Maroon 5
Thanks for reading! If you would please leave a review on your way out, I will become your slave for eternity. For a limited time only, I'll even throw in an apple pie. Naked Sammy to eat it off not included.