A/N: Heeeeeey! I'm back. Whew what a long time, huh? I just feel like I've lost my mojo. I haven't written anything since Glee ended. I'm sorry. I'll try to finish the WIPs. I just need time. I'll never abandon them. But, I wrote something, please don't read if Wincest isn't your thing. I'm in quite a few new fandoms, Supernatural being the biggest right now. I ship Wincest AND J2. I hope you guys like this. Just thought of it off the top of my head. Lemm know with a review, pwease? Carry on my wayward readers! ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and all mistakes my own.
Brotherly Love
"Hey Sammy! Rise and shine!"
Sam groaned and rolled over, as he heard his older brother's gruff voice boom in the otherwise quiet dingy motel room. Rubbing his weary eyes and squinting as Dean slightly peeked through the curtains, Sam yawned and finally drug himself out of bed. "Wha's goin on Dean?" He asked groggily, but immediately smiled upon noticing a bag of donuts and two cups of coffee sitting on the table.
"Talked to Bobby, and he said we're dealing with the reaper..." Dean answered moodily, closing the curtains. He took his phone out, and dialed, making a quick call. "Let's go!" He rushed out, walking to the bathroom, now talking in a low voice.
Sam rolled his eyes, and really tried not to watch his brother's delicious ass leave.
I hate to let you go, but I love to watch you leave...Sam thought, a prominent blush appearing on his neck and the tips of his ears, spreading to his face. He planted his face in his hands and mumbled under his breath. Dean was gonna be the death of him, if not Hell itself...
Sam has been in love with Dean for a while now. He knows it's wrong, but something about it felt so right. When he thought of Dean, he thought of comfort, protection, and most of all, home.
But of course, he'll never tell another living soul that. And not Dean.
Especially not Dean.
Because Dean would think he's a freak...disgusting...and he'd probably hate him...
Sam sighed, stood up, and got his jeans on and spare clean shirt laying on the motel rooms' nightstand. Pulling the blue shirt over his head, he shoved his hands through the sleeves, only yo come face-to-face with Dean. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he swallowed.
"You ok? You look sick, Sammy. Do you have a fever?" Dean asked worriedly, searching his brother's face. He placed his hand on Sam's flushed face, most definitely not from a damn fever.
Sam backed up, muttering, "Y-Yeah, I feel fine."
Dean didn't look convinced, but he decided to leave it for now. He'd ask Sam about it later. He shrugged and changed his shirt, throwing it on the foor next to Sam. He kept chatting to his brother about the monster of the week.
Sure, Sam was totally listening. He licked his lips as his brown eyes trailed over Dean's sculpted abdomen, and felt his cock stir to life. Fuck, no. Not now, please God, no. He mentally pleaded.
"...And I think that salting the doors and windows is a goddamn must..." He babled on, running frantically around the motel, like a chicken with its head cut off, shoving dirty clothes in a duffel bag as he goes.
"Uh, huh...ok, sure..." Sam whispered to himself, as he kept his eyes glued to Dean's natural flexing of his muscles, his throat going dry. His palms started to sweat, and he cursed under his breath.
Dean was now shoving the tolietries in their backpack. "Are you even listening?!" Dean demanded.
"Yes, Dean, of course I'm listening..." Sam lied and he directed his gaze to the floor, in fear of being caught staring. Wrong, Sam. So wrong.
"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you today? It's like you're in your own little world, man," Dean mumbled, walking over to the other bed he slept in.
If you only fucking knew what goes on in my own little world...Sam thought lustfully. He bit his lip as he watched Dean bending over, peering under the bed, only to get an aha! a second later when he found his missing item.
Sam moaned pitifully and adjusted his crotch quickly, before his brother turned around to notice. "Hey, uh, I need a shower...gimme like, 10 minutes...," Sam said, grabbing his necessitites, and rushing to the bathroom to take care of his 'problem'.
"What the hell, Sam?! You JUST thought of this now?! We're supposed to meet Bobby in 30 friggin' minutes!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands up in dispair.
Sam slammed the bathroom door, Dean's pissed off voice fading away. He stripped his clothes, mentally thanking to all angels above, when the ache between his legs lessened from the strain of his demin jeans' zipper. Turning on the water to his temperature liking, he stepped in, immediately stepping under the lukewarm spray. His hand found his cock, and he closed his eyes, head thrown back, as he pictured his brother fucking him into oblivion against the shower wall. He thumbed his slit, smearing pre-come, and sped up his strokes, imagining Dean's weight pressed up against Sam's skin, flushed together, his hot breath panting into his younger brother's neck, whispering downright filthy words.
You like that, Sammy? Yeah? Gonna take real good care of you...
Sam whimpered, thinking of Dean saying those dirty words, making him squirm, and he rested a hand on the shower wall, nearing his orgasm.
God Sam, you're so fucking tight...gonna make you mine...would you like that? Only mine...
Sam nodded, knowing no one can see him, fantazising, and he felt the familiar heat coil in his lower belly, and growled low in his throat as he sprayed his hot come all over the tiled wall, muttering obscentites and Oh, Dean, yes yes..ah on his lips. Opening his eyes, he looked down and smiled blissfully as he watched the shower wash away come that has only ever been meant for Dean. He quickly lathered himself up, rinsed, then turned off the water. He stepped out, drying himself off, his stomach flipping. He was happy.
"You ok, Sam?" Dean's voice asked from the other side of the door.
Sam jumped, Dean's voice startling him, and hurried to say," Yeah, fine, why?"
A pause.
Sam's eyebrows rose and he felt nervous all of a sudden. Did he hear me? I'm pretty sure I was quiet...
"Nothin'. Well, hurry up bitch, we gotta get our asses going," Dean grumbled.
Sam smiled. Bitch. Only your bitch. If only..."Be right out, jerk."
...Yeah, he'll never tell another living soul that he's in love with his brother. And not Dean.
Especially not Dean.
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