Title: Red Tape
Rating: M (Adult situations, Adult language, and Violence)
Plot: Following an attack by a werewolf Sam attempts to comfort Dean with a casual routine, but when one thing leads to another and their routine becomes darker than usual things between them become complicated and will never be the same between the Winchester Brothers. *Dark Wincest*
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural, but I own all originals and I loathe them more than I do sleeping on a bed of nails.
Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from, but I found it to be an interesting experiment and something to do while I'm writing Kiss the Girls. I would like to thank Nikki for all her support and help in writing this and dedicate it to her. This one's for you, Shirley.

Red Tape

"I practice safe sex; I use an airbag." - Gary Shandling

Dean flung the hotel room door open and tossed his duffle bag on the bed. Sam looked up from the book he was reading and tried to read the expression on his elder brother's face. All he could make out was the flecks of blood on his face. "Next time," Dean spoke slow and clear as he closed the door, "you can be the bait. I have shit all over me now because Cas decided to smite the damn thing instead of doing what we would, you know, normally do." Sam chuckled to himself, trying not to balk at the idea that Cas wasn't listening to what Dean had told him - again. "I need a shower." Sam chuckled louder now and returned to his reading. "That's not funny." Dean shouted from in the bathroom.

Sam listened as Dean shut the bathroom door and switched on the shower. Reaching over across the bed he slid open the drawer on the small dresser that was nestled between the two queen size beds and removed a bottle of Goat's Rue and unscrewed the cap. Two small, round, light brown pills rolled out on his hand. Glancing around to see where had left his bottle of water was. There was no way he was about to swallow these damn things without something to wash it down. Taking a deep breath he swallowed the Goat's Rue and the water. "Whoa." he said aloud, feeling the herb rolling down his throat and sending chills down his spine.

Now all he had to do was wait. The wait, Sam had discovered over the last year, was the most difficult task in the whole experience. He would often sit, wait for Dean to shower, and take the Goat's Rue to help loosen the ducts, and then he would await his brother. Sometimes it wasn't a long wait, no more than five or six minutes, but other nights - like tonight - it could take as long as half an hour. Sam knew Dean would want to have as much of the blood and flesh out of his hair as he could before he allowed himself to be embraced. Sam found it amusing, almost domestic, and wondered if it wasn't something he had picked up from his time with Lisa and Ben.

In the distance Sam could hear the faint sound of Dean singing in the shower and allowed a small smile to break on the edge of his mouth. Closing his eyes, Sam could feel himself becoming less tense. His muscles were relaxing, his mind drifting, and his mouth salivating. The sound of Dean's singing was the first step of the process, one that Sam had become almost mechanical about over the last year. Standing up he walked over to his suitcase, running his delicate hand along the metal zipper, and listened as it unhooked each hook. Once it was open enough, he lifted the top, and removed all the clothes he brought from each hotel to the next with him and found what he was looking for. A smile continued to form along his mouth as Dean sang louder now.

Sam's eyes danced across the items that had been nestled beneath everything else. Closing his eyes he let his fingers walk across the leather suit first, feeling the slick leather, and taking it in. He could feel his eyes fluttering as he removed the suit and set it along the bed. Returning his attention back to his collection, he followed his ritual and closed his eyes and let his hands dance across the rubber ball gag, wrapping his hands around the rubber, feeling the teeth marks still left from the previous evening's foray. "Delicious," he said licking his lips, "absolutely delicious." Once more he returned to his collection of bliss and followed his ritual. This time he selected the bottle of lubricant. A small chuckle escaped from his mouth as he shook the bottle and heard the liquid inside slosh around. Just enough to do the evening.

Once everything was laid out on the bed Sam took a step back and took it in. He knew it was almost time, Dean had stopped singing Metallica and the water had silenced, and he could feel himself becoming aroused by the thought of what was to come. Rubbing his hands along his jeans, he felt himself and retracted a bit. He often had better control over it, but tonight he was at full mast faster than usual. Was there something different about tonight over other evenings? Brushing the thoughts from his mind he tried to calm himself before Dean came out and found that he was ahead of him. Dean hated when Sam was ahead of him because it meant that Sam was having more fun.

"Ready or not," Dean announced as the bathroom door eased open, "here I come." Sam shoved the feelings down as fast as he could and spun around to see Dean, still wet, holding a towel over himself and let out a long, labored sigh. Dean tilted his head to the left and Sam felt his stomach tie into a lexicon of knots. "Sam," Dean said looking directly at him, "have you been having a one man party without me?" he asked. Sam felt himself become flush with embarrassment and tried to hide his reaction before Dean noticed it more than he already had. "You know how I feel about that kind of thing, Sam." Dean said, his tone disapproving.

Looking down at his hands, Sam found himself awkwardly studying them. "I'm sorry." Sam could feel his body now reacting to the Goat's Rue and bit his lower lip. "I couldn't help it." Dean nodded and drew closer, his scent filling Sam's nostrils, making matters much worse for him. Sam had to take a step back as he felt Dean's body heat consuming him. "Dean, I..." Sam stammered, but Dean didn't seem to care. Sam tried to find his composure, but it was too late. Dean's arm shot out at him and thrust him against the wall. Sam choked out a small squeak, but nothing more would escape from his throat. Sam blinked and in seconds Dean was inches away from his face, bare chested, his eyes locked on Sam.

"Shut up, you whelp." Dean hissed. Sam tried to move, but found it was no use. Dean drew in closer now, his scent undeniable, as he inhaled Sam's own scent. Sam could feel himself tightening now and tried to retrain himself, but as Dean brought his tongue to his cheek he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Sam could feel his brother's tongue against his bare flesh, moving slowly along his outer ear, slowly cascading down his cheek tracing the outline of the edge of his lips, and down his neck. There Sam felt the veins in his neck respond to Dean salivating tongue and Sam unwillingly lurched forward, still trying to fight it.

Moments later Sam felt Dean's grip loosen. "Dean, I..." he opened his mouth to speak, but Dean wasn't interested in talking. Swiftly he smacked his brother's mouth, blood welling in his mouth, and fear dancing through his eyes. Sam spit the blood out, splattering it across Dean's naked chest. Dean looked down at what Sam had done and thrust his brother across the room. Sam's limp body crashed across the bed, falling on the floor, and drawing more blood. Sam choked the blood up that was now pooling in his mouth and spit it out, trying to say something, but before he could Dean had come back at him. Lifting him off the floor Sam felt his body retract into an almost fetal like state. Dean thrust him against the wall again, this time cocking his head to the side and resting his teeth on Sam's neck. "Dean." he managed to choke out as Dean bit down.

Removing himself from Sam's throat Dean flicked his brother on the bed and climbed on top of him. Sam was too sore to move, his muscles screaming at him, begging him to move and make this stop. "Move and I will kill you." Dean whispered in Sam's ear, running his hand through his brother's long brunette hair. Sam could feel his brother's hand collecting a swath of his hair, the sudden pain that shot through him as Dean jerked his hand back. A loud scream escaped Sam's lips. Sam had enough. Reaching behind himself he found the ball gag and thrust it into Dean's mouth. In the moment of absolute shock Sam was able to take Dean and pinned him to the bed, ball gag in his mouth, strapping it behind his head with a swiftness he never knew he had.

"You listen, you little fuck..." Sam said, looking down at his brother's shocked expression as he tried to remove the ball gag, but Sam was too fast and forced it down further. "Stay, or I swear to God I will make you feel like a fucking Russian immigrant." Sam said as he returned to his suitcase. He watched as Dean's eye flicked back and forth. Sam knew he was trying to work out a way to escape his trap, but it would be no use. Sam returned moments later with a roll of red tape. "Now," Sam said as the tape made a sharp sound as it removed its seal, "this will hurt." Sam rolled the tape around Dean's wrists and forced them to the top of the bed, essentially taping him to the bed. "Now, it's my turn to have fun." Sam's tone was full of playful delight.

Straddling his brother, Sam sat up on his haunches and lifted his shirt. He watched as his brother's eyes widened, feeling his throbbing cock shifting underneath him, Sam smiled. There was a long moment as Sam thought about what to do next, but it didn't take long. He ran his hands down his chest, mockingly, and rested at the zipper of his jeans. Dean squirmed below him, moving back and forth, trying to break the seal on the tape. Sam could only laugh and wave his finger. Returning his attention back to his jeans, he slid the down, slowly, making sure to tease Dean as much as he could.

Drawing in as much air as he could fill his lungs with, Sam shifted and removed his jeans, exposing himself to Dean. He watched as Dean shivered, his wet skin glistening in the soft light of the hotel room, and lowered himself down to meet Dean. Mimicking his brother from earlier, Sam ran his tongue along Dean's face, making small circles around his ear, and rounding to his mouth. The moment the two mouths connected Sam felt himself enter Dean, a guttural grunt escaping between shared saliva, and the arching of their naked bodies. Sam, taking control, bit Dean's lip, drawing blood, and thrust himself further in. Dean continued to arch, unable to control his own body now.

Amidst the chaos of connection, Sam felt his nipples becoming wet and the Goat's Rue taking effect. Looking down he saw that a white, thick, almost milky substance escaping from them. Sam knew what was happening and using his teeth removed the ball gag from Dean's mouth. "Sam!" Dean shouted, but it was Sam's rule now and as he lowered his body to Dean's mouth, he felt his brother's teeth sink down upon his nipple. The swift sucking came as a shock, as it always had, but Sam didn't find the groans escaping from now. The soft sound of Dean's suckling caused Sam to become harder now, and once more, without warning, he thrust into his brother's ass. Dean arched, this time actually biting Sam's nipple, releasing a strange mix of blood and breast milk into his mouth. Sam screamed and shoved his brother back down.

Now seeing nothing but red, Sam shot up from Dean's mouth, blood and his breast milk oozing down his naked chest and trickling down on Dean's. Unable to control the rage building, Sam smacked his brother, once, twice, three times, drawing increasing amounts of blood. Dean swallowed the blood and milk and Sam watched as he started to choke. Sam was unsure of how to react as Dean arched up and down, choking on the blood. Afraid, he scrambled off the and cut the tape holding him to the bed. This was when Sam realized it was a ruse and Dean thrust him against the wall, his pulsating cock now thrusting into Sam. "Fuck me." Sam heard escape from his mouth as Dean thrust with more vigor than he had ever done before.

Several hours later, Sam was in the bathroom looking over his wounds from the evening. Dean had been rougher than usual, but so had he. It was so unlike him, and as he looked over the cuts, he saw something that caught his attention. On his back, from when he was mounting Dean, he found what looked to be claw marks. A sinking feeling took over as he examined it closer and realized that Dean was no longer his brother, the man he loved, but something else. Something dark. He had come back from the hunt alive, but changed. Afraid, Sam crept out of the bathroom and looked outside the widow at the moon and saw that it was a half moon. He would know, undoubtedly, in about two weeks if his next hunt would be his brother.