Chapter 1.

##

Ok, this is getting fucking ridiculous!

Dean's wrenched out of sleep, jacked straight up in bed, alarm bells clanging in his mind and then with a muttered curse, he sees his stupid brother stalking back and forth in the darkened room, freaking sleepwalking again.

Sam's hugging himself like his skin's on fire, he's twitching and shivering, and the frantic whispers that reach Dean's ears make no sense, just fragments, an incoherent jumble and damn, this can't go on much longer.

Three fucking days now and it's not getting any better.

Three nights Sam's woken up with nightmares. Not just nightmares, but freaking Godzilla nightmares, eyes wide open but not seeing, lost in the haze of his own mind, doesn't recognize Dean…hell, doesn't even know Dean's in the room, Sam's brain focused only on whatever's scaring the hell out of him.

Because that's what Sam is, he's fucking terrified, his haunted eyes wild, a cornered animal desperate for escape, body tense and jerking, wired for action and muttering in that weird ass voice that's giving Dean the heebie-jeebies.

He'd looked it up on the computer this morning, because he needs to help Sam, get this shit to stop-

Night terrors. They're called night terrors.

#

The first time it happens, Dean bolts awake, torn from a sweet dream, that pretty waitress from the diner had her mouth wrapped around his dick so good and he was almost there, top of the world, her hot tongue deliciously sinful, making him feel so fine.

The next thing he knows, he's ramrod straight in bed, Bowie knife in one hand, twisted sheets in the other, the adrenaline shooting up his spine like quicksilver, eyes darting around the room, ready to kick some supernatural ass.

Only to find his brother, muttering words Dean can't quite make out and clawing at the door lock, trying to get out.

"Sam? Sammy? What the hell? "

But Sam doesn't hear him, stumbles to a window and bangs a fist, clawing at the ledge to push it up but can't manage it, his dream-filled mind frantic, unfocused and he turns, lunges towards the door, yanking and twisting at the handle, hungry to be outside, out of his nightmare.

Hugging himself in between, rocking back and forth to soothe, to calm his panic.

Sam's twisting in his skin, teeth grinding, muscles rigid and trembling, his whole body shuddering with spasms and the whole time he's muttering under his breath, hissing whispers that fill the room.

"Sam!" Dean's watched long enough and he's up, out of bed, grabbing his brother's shoulders, feels the flesh twitch and roll like a writhing snake under the cotton t-shirt, skin clammy and slick.

He gives a shake, "Sam, wake up!"

Sam tries to shove on past, bulldoze through him like Dean's not even there but Dean hangs on tight, muscles him back and keeps him there, slaps at Sam's face to rouse him but can't penetrate the dream Sam's lost in.

And Sam's fighting back, pushing at him to get away, muttering constantly and this close, Dean can catch the words but they make even less sense once he hears them, "Can't have, can't ever have, too much want…always there, always there, can't do this, let myself, gotta hide, gotta stop, don't show it, he can't see…can't have…"

Dean tries to remember everything he'd ever read about sleep-walking, which isn't much but he thinks he's not supposed to wake the person or get in their way-

"Got to-Get away, get away, can't do this, can't be this way, he'll know, he always knows … sick, so sick …"

Ok, so Dean's pretty sure this isn't just normal sleep walking because Sam's shivering, for fuck's sake, his flesh hot as hell, sweat slick and freezing cold at the same time, his face strained and clenched, his chest huffing for breath and every muscle is bunched tight, fists balled up-

Nope, this is a full-fledged nightmare and Dean wraps his arms around his brother, pulls him tight to his chest and hugs hard, urging him backwards, steering him to the bed.

Feels something jutting hard against his hip and looks down in confusion-

And it's Sam's dick, standing out from his body, rock solid and freaking obscene, shooting a hot flush through Dean's skin at the feel of it against him, and it jerks him back, knocks him sideways because holy fuck, it's lust that just flailed through his gut, thick and dirty, making him horny as hell and no fucking way is he feeling this shit for his brother-

Sam struggles against him for a moment more, eyes wild with fear, muscles rigid and tense and then he stills, sucks in a deep breath and Dean feels him settle, relax, like he's drawing comfort from the body hug Dean's got him wrapped in, from the soothing sounds Dean's making as he backs Sam up, flops them both down onto the bed, his weight heavy on top of his brother's long length.

And Dean starts babbling, trying for normal, trying to get his mind off his own dick that's currently tenting out his tighty-whiteys, hard already and growing fast, "It's okay now, you're okay. Gonna let you go now, Sammy but I'm right here with you, just want to get you into bed, that's all, get you covered up so you can get back to sleep."

And he's tracing soothing circles on his brother's arms, sliding his own body off so he can swing Sam's long legs up, his other hand moving of its own accord, petting back the sweat-soaked hair-

Dean gets him settled, drags the blanket up and starts to turn away but Sam lunges for him, locks on his wrist and pulls him back, clinging to his arm, not saying a word but hanging on tight, his glistening eyes boring into Dean's, feverish and hungry, body starting to twitch again so Dean sits down fast on the edge of Sam's bed.

"'S'okay, Sammy. Right here. Not going anywhere." Keeps repeating it, calm and steady, until Sam's eyelids droop and close, his breathing slows into an even pace and his fingers finally loosen their grip. With a soft sigh, his brother rolls over, buries himself in his pillows and starts snoring loudly.

Dean staggers back to his own bed, smacks at his traitorous hard-on for even daring to think about Sam that way and falls into a restless sleep, his dreams tormented, filthy, full of Sam's cock, rubbing hot and heavy against his own and images circle and swirl, scaring the bejesus out of him because he can't wrap his mind around any of this-

The terrible, horrible thought shoves its way forward and he wrestles it back, won't give it a voice, can't, it's wrong, so fucking wrong and no, just no.

But the tickle in his brain is playing a different tune and it rushes him, forces the truth on him even though he's not ready, will never fucking be ready for this-

Can't be true, can't be true-

But it is.

He wants Sam.

He fucking wants his brother, wants to kiss that pinched worried mouth, wants to tongue his way across that muscled chest, suck on his sweet skin until Sam is moaning against him, wants to taste him everywhere.

And when he's finished savoring every flavor, then he wants to-

God, he wants to…

He jerks awake, a cry of fear and loathing on his lips, his heart crashing against his ribs and he feels the tears on his cheeks, the trembling in his skin and he can't deal with this, any of this-

Dean gradually hears it in the dark, the shuffling sounds, whimpering and whispering and Sam's up again,

burning a trail around the room, and Jesus Fuck, this is ridiculous!

He shoves the blanket off, instantly aware of his boner that's still back in dream world, loving on Sammy, and he grabs Sam's shoulders, swinging him around and manhandling him back to bed.

It takes longer this time, his brother fighting him good and they're both sweating by the time he wrestles Sam down, onto the sheets, using his whole body weight to hold him there. He can feel the hard dick against his own and the possessive look in Sam's eyes thrills his core, even as it's freaking him out and when his brother bucks up with his hips, hitting Dean's aching cock with his own and rubbing hard, it's too much, breaks him into little pieces and he's a stuttering mess because Sam's fucking humping him!

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" And he practically flies off the bed, staring down at his brother, whose hips are still thrusting obscenely, fucking the air, panting out whispered gasps that fill the room-

"God, need, need so bad, can't even, have to have, not enough anymore, not, God, need-" in a continuous litany that keeps pouring out of Sam's mouth like a broken record.

Dean backs up, dragging a shaking hand across his mouth and watches his brother jerk and wrack his hips, searching for something to rub against. Sudden inspiration strikes, if Sammy needs something to fuck against, Dean can at least give him that. He reaches down, flips Sam over so he's on his belly and watches as Sam works the bed, rubbing and gyrating down, ass cheeks clenching hard and suddenly crying out, a choked off moan as his body goes rigid for a moment and shudders with climax, filling his shorts with come before relaxing back down, harsh breathing slowing and deepening, and the soft snores reach his ears. Good, Sam's asleep again, at least for a while and Dean can let his guard down, take a breath, a pause and figure out what the fuck-

He staggers back to his own bed, sits down hard, sweat trickling down his back, his face on fire-

Rubs a rough hand across his mouth, blown the fuck away by what just happened here and ok, that was like the hottest fucking thing he's ever seen, Sam getting himself off on the mattress and he can't help it, he's gotta-gotta-

With a muttered 'fuck', he's shoving down his shorts, jerking on his dick hard and rough, the image of Sammy's ass wiggling and grinding sending Dean over the edge embarrassingly fast, biggest orgasms he's ever had, pulling every dredge of jizz out of his balls, leaving him trembling and whimpering like an idiot.

He cleans himself up, still so freaked out by this whole night he can't even begin to deal with it and he slumps wearily back onto the bed, only managing a couple hours of restless shut-eye before the sun wakes him, hot and streaming across his face, has him sitting up instantly to check on Sam and his brother is sleeping peacefully, sprawled on his back, buzzing lightly.

Dean's eyes are gritty, his brain sleep-starved and fuzzy and he glares enviously over at Sam, wishing he could sleep through sunshine like that.

He can't help himself, has to thump Sam's head with a pillow on his way to the bathroom, shoving his brother's shoulder because the stupid jerk is resting so easy-

And the low hitch of breath, the sleepy growl that means Sam's awake now and can't go back to sleep is music to his ears, makes him smile in satisfaction "What the hell, Dean? What the hell?"

##

Sam doesn't remember any of it.

Doesn't know why it's happening or how to stop it, just rubs a tired hand over his own burning eyes, sighs like it's Dean's imagination and lays back down on his bed, arms curling around his pillow, hugging tight-

And that right there, seeing Sam's exhaustion, makes Dean fierce, protective and he's got to find some way to stop this shit from happening again tonight.

#

It happens again, only Sam is more agitated, more frenzied and it takes over a half hour of soothing and keeping a death grip on Sam's body before Dean can ease him down onto the bed, keeping his dick well away from Sam's, lightly stroking his face, his arms, his chest until his brother relaxes, his body going limp and when Dean gets up, his wrist is snatched again in a hard grip, Sam gasping out the words, eyes terrified, "Don't, don't go, need…"

And there's nothing for it, Sam won't let him go, no matter how hard he tries to pry those clinging fingers off so he barks out a frustrated, "Shit!" and drops onto the bed, letting Sam's whispering babble flow over him, work its way into his gut until it's all he can hear. He hunches over his brother for another half an hour before Sam finally relaxes, sleep claiming him with a whimpered breath.

Back in his own bed, Dean stares at the ceiling, pondering over Sam's rambling words.

"Gonna knows, always knows, can't let him…sick, wrong, all wrong, inside, get out, get out now before he sees, keep it down, keep it in-"

And there's niggle of memory at the back of his mind, on the tip of his tongue and Dean knows he's missing something huge, something important but his tired brain can't make the connection, can't figure it and it's pissing him off.

Sam is so worried that he'll find out whatever it is Sam needs to hide. So, who the hell is this he and why is he fucking with Sam like this?

There's an odd burn in his belly, an anger he can't identify and it's messing with him, makes him twitchy in his skin, rolling his shoulders with a protective rage that makes him want to beat down whoever's making Sam scared like this.

And sleep, when it comes, is erratic and restless.

Twice more in the night, he's woken up, twice more he wrestles Sam down and finally just shoves Sam over, lays down and throws a leg over his brother's, curls an arm around him to keep his ass in the fucking bed so they can both maybe get a little sleep.

#

"Dean, what the hell?!" He's shoved awake, Sam's eyes huge and scared as they stare down into his and he's clueless, doesn't know what Sammy's problem is-

"Wha-?" His voice is croaking hoarse, his head still trying to cling to sleep.

"You're in my goddamn bed, dude! What the fuck are you doing in my bed?!" Sam's freaking out, like a virgin on prom night, hitched up against the wall, holding a blanket in front of him like a shield, his other hand clutching the sheets tight.

And it comes back to him, why and what and oh, yeah, how this is all Sam's fault!

He rolls off, sits on the side of the bed and rests his head in his hands, ignoring Sam's indignant squeak behind him because Sam can just wait one fucking minute here.

Shit, he's exhausted. His brain is weary and worn, there's a high-pitched whine in his ears and his skin is jerking with errant nerve endings, trembling under his flesh, can't settle in his own body.

He jerks a look over his shoulder, catches Sam's eyes and he doesn't seem much better, face pinched white under shadow, dull eyes sunken into the dark circles that have taken up a permanent residence on his face.

Dean's voice, when he tries it, is scratchy and old, clicking in his throat, "Fuck, Sam, it's you. You keep having these goddamn nightmares and the only way to get you to settle down is to hold you down. And by the third time around, I was like all 'fuck-it' and ready to do just about anything to get us through the night. So I climbed on top of you, so you couldn't move, and finally managed to get a couple hours of shut-eye."

Sam stares at him, uncertainly, "No, that's-I didn't have any nightmares! I'd remember if I did, wouldn't I? I mean, I always remember them!"

"Not making it up, man. You're running around the room, clawing at the doors and windows, freaking out and I don't know what else to do. I mean, you don't remember any of it?"

Sam shrugs, perplexed and shakes his head in denial, his eyes skittering in fear, "No, I-not a thing, man."

"Is there something bothering you? Something I need to know about?"

Sam's gaze shutters, closes off and he's shaking his head, muttering, "Nothing new, man."

And Dean knows he's lying, knows something's going on but Sam's clammed up, teeth clenched tight and it makes Dean frustrated as all hell, "What does that mean, nothing new? It's gotta be something, Sam! I can't fix it unless I know what the problem is, dude, so spill-"

But Sam won't talk anymore, won't reveal, just slides out of bed fast and high-tails it to the bathroom, shutting Dean out, shutting Dean down.

Like that's really gonna help a goddamn thing.

#

He watches tiredly as Sam paces, window to door and back again, hands clawing at the latches, trying to get free.

It's getting to be a ritual now as Dean throws back the covers and catches Sam mid-stride, wrapping his arms around his brother's, pinning them to his sides and hugging hard, breathing into Sam's neck-

It's taking longer and longer to get Sam to settle each time, like whatever's bugging him is escalating-

The smell of Sam's fear is pungent and strong and he's covered in sweat, the edges of his hair dripping with it, body shaking with reaction, with terror and Dean hangs on tight, listening to the muttered words gasping out of Sam's mouth-

"Keep it down, can't let it out, shit, he'll know, can't let go, hold on to it, want, God, want him so bad-"

And Dean's jerking back so fast, he almost gets whiplash-

What? What the fuck did Sam just say?"

Want who so bad?

"Sick, so sick, can't let him see, need him to stay, it'll hurt, hurt us both, just keep it down, down-"

Sam's trying to get free, struggling against Dean's grip and Dean starts walking him backwards, towards the bed, not loosening his hold for a second.

Forces Sam down, lies on top of him.

Feels the solid length of Sam's cock between them and tries his damndest to ignore it, but the freaking thing is pushing up against his own, hitching Dean's breath in his throat and making his own dick come alive, twitch with interest, the hot sparks shooting up his gut peaking his arousal, sudden and sharp.

Too freaking long between lays, is all.

He pulls in a deep breath and starts to move, starts sliding away from Sam's erection, mentally kicking himself as hard as he can, his mind screaming brother, brother, even as his hand reaches down, presses firm on his own hardness, stopping the boner from becoming, filling his mind with ugly images, old lady boobs, fat dudes in speedos, chicks with more piercings than skin…

It works, little Dean is starting to wilt by degrees and thank Christ, thank Christ-

Can't finish the thought because suddenly Sam's hands are on him, yanking him back and holding him in place, Sam bucking up sharp and fierce, gyrating his hips as he rubs himself on Dean, holding himself right there for maximum contact and shit, that feels nice-

Sam's dick is hot against his own and it's wrong, bad, nasty and just about the hottest fucking thing he's ever felt and a wave of fiery lust shoots through Dean, leaving him floundering, panicked, filled with disgust at himself yet so fucking horny he wants to shoot his wad right there-

And the whole time, Sam is muttering in that whispery voice, the breathy lilt that cuts through his gut like a seductive snake, sweet breath filling his nose, "It's wrong, all wrong, can't have it, can't touch, need to get away before he sees-"

Dean's sweating, freaking out, moaning, desperate because his little brother is fucking up into him, and he's gotta stop this now, one more minute of Sam rolling into him, pitching and waning and he's not gonna be responsible for his actions-

And he hears his own voice, high-pitched and whining, begging almost, cracking with need and fuck, he wants, wants so goddamn bad, "Sam! Sammy! Gonna get you into, oh, Jesus fuck, in-into bed now and, ahhh, Sam, you gotta stop, man, please…"

And Dean wrenches Sam's hands off his hips, lurches backwards, desperate and wild, gets himself free, gets that dick off him as he grabs Sam by the shoulder and swings his legs up with brute strength, tucking a blanket around, swaddling Sam in tight before collapsing down, strength gone as he slumps on his knees on the floor and shit, he can't fucking breathe through the pounding of his heart-

Holy crap, he just got thoroughly humped by his baby brother and he never wanted it to stop and that's just some fucked up shit right there-

Sam's hand curls around his wrist, catching and holding him, before he can think about moving, clinging hard, and he's stuck there, resignation setting in as he waits for Sam to fall back to sleep.

Forty five minutes later, Sam's breathing has evened out and Dean can pry his fingers off and get away, finally crawl back to his own bed.

Rubs his hands across his burning eyes and knows that sleep won't come-

He doesn't deserve sleep because he's a sick asshole who wants to fuck his own brother.

#

With a sickening feeling in his gut, he knows he's always wanted this, his love for Sam never ending, huge and all encompassing and of course, he loves him like that, of course. Sam is his, has been since he carried him out of that burning fire and now he wants to finish it, take Sam and own him, show him who he belongs to, who he's always belonged to.

Suddenly realizes that all the women, all the men he's ever been with have all been a substitute for this, for his Sammy, because he couldn't let himself have the one person he wanted most of all-

To love Sam to the end of his days, in every way, wants his brother in his arms when he draws his last breath, wants his last act on earth to be a kiss on Sam's sweet mouth-

But how in hell can he ever confess that, reveal it to the man that means more to him than the world itself?

It would hurt Sam, break them in ways Dean can only imagine and so that's it, then, a definite no to the spillage of his guts and revealing his innermost, Dean's just gonna push it back down where it's been this whole time, deep in his subconscious on a shelf with his heart.

And now it looks like Sam's met someone, fallen in love or lust with the mystery man and is now suddenly terrified that the other person will find out Sam's true feelings.

Dean shakes his head, any man should be honored by that, honored with Sam's love because it sure the hell doesn't come easy and Sam should be cherished, his love something precious.

And the angry crush in the pit of his gut almost consumes him and he can identify it now, it's jealousy, plain and simple. Sam wants another man and not him and it's not fucking fair! He's always been there for Sam, taken care of him, made him a home and he's earned him, for fuck's sake. Sammy is his, no one else's and that's when Dean knows he's gone off the deep end, because it doesn't matter who it is, he's not gonna let Sam go be with someone else, nope, not happening.

And he's racking his brain, trying to figure out where the hell Sam met someone, hell, they've been in the car with just each other for days now, not even working a case, so it must have been way before, someone Dean never knew about and he can't for the life of him figure out who 'him' is.

#

Sam is starting to mutter again, words becoming more and more agitated, his body rolling around under the covers and suddenly he's bolting upright, stark terror in his eyes, yelling his name, "Dean! Dean! Please…didn't mean…Oh, God, oh, my God!"

And Sam starts rocking back and forth, big fat tears welling in his eyes, rolling down his face, glinting in the moonlight and as Dean watches the trail of them snake down Sam's cheeks, he's back at Sam's side instantly, urging him to lie back down, making low soothing sounds deep in his throat, "Shhh, Sammy, hush…'s alright, gonna be okay…sleep, dude…just sleep…"

Sam's eyes find Dean's and he reaches out, grips both of Dean's shoulders vice tight and gasps out frantically, earnestly, "Can't tell, never tell, fucking gorgeous, goddamn eyes and lips…wanna taste that mouth…"

His gaze falls on Dean's lips and the yank forward is so sudden, Dean can't stop it, feels the warm mouth land on his just seconds before Sam's pressing in, hot tongue poking and nudging, demanding access and Dean's so fucking surprised, he freezes, mouth slack, stunned, the honey snake of Sam's tongue twisting in, finding his-

The blaze is instantaneous, flooding his body with molten fire, burning away his self-control and leaving him shell-shocked, scared to death and floundering for his sanity.

His fingers clench in, cling to Sam's broad shoulders and before he can stop himself, he's kissing back with abandon, so fucking hungry for this, it rears up, overcomes him and turns him growling, rabid.

Fierce for this, ready to rip and claw for this, needs this like he's never needed before in his life.

And he's drowning, dying, Christ, so fucking sweet, Sam's mouth, it's delicious, peaceful, like coming home but desperate and ravenous at the same time, sucking the life out of him and hot tears slick down Dean's cheeks, can't stop them, and why the hell is he Goddamn crying, it's Sam and love and want and need-

And the most beautiful fucking kiss he's ever had in his life.

All thoughts of brother and wrong and sin fly out the window as Dean growls low in his throat, slides his hands up to cup Sam's face, thrusting his tongue in deeper, chasing after the tantalizing flavor that's teasing him, promising him, and damning him with each sweep, with each moan-

And Sammy doesn't evenknow how he just fucked Dean's world up totally, completely.

#

Sam breaks the kiss abruptly, falls back and stares at Dean's mouth again, words hoarse, moaned out like it hurts him, "God, want that mouth, heaven, fucking heaven in there, can't, can't let, he-he'll know, it's-" And a sob falls out of Sam, wrenched deep, "Fucking wanna taste, just once, just one fucking time and can't, can't, Goddamn it!"

And his face works hard, breaking with emotions, one hand rubbing at wet eyes and Dean holds on tight, keeps Sam anchored until the trembling body stills, a deep breath sucked in and Sam's tension slides away, his arms release Dean as he falls back into bed, instantlysnoring loudly as Dean blinks down at him in confusion.

Sam's asleep, the night terrors conquered again, fucking finally, but as far as Dean's concerned, the damage is irreparable.

#

He's back in his own bed now, staring up at the ceiling, trembling all over from that freaking kiss-

However much of a girl Sam is, he's a hell of a kisser, just rocked Dean right down to his toes because it wasn't just an innocent peck or even a glancing slide, nope, it was a full-fledged, ball busting, shoot me to the moon and I'll never be the same, soul racking, cock-hardening, tongue wrapped around tongue, honest to God sizzling, scorching, flaming kiss.

And fuck, does Dean want another one. Twisted apart, if he gets another, he could die here, fulfilled and sated and so fucking happy, it hurts, rips at his soul, fills him completely, like nothing else ever has. His mouth is tingling raw and the taste of Sam still burns there, filthy and wrong, dirty and bad but oh, so delicious, so fucking sweet. His head's spinning, heart thumping like he's on a roller coaster being flung this way and that, and the only thing he can do is hang on tight because if he gets hit by one more curve, one more sudden drop, he knows he's gonna lose it-

Because he thinks Sam's got the hots for him right back.

There. It's said, out in the open, at least in his mind and yeah, maybe he's wrong, maybe Sam isn't talking about him, but Dean's pretty sure, yup, about ninety-six percent sure that he, Dean, is the 'him' that Sam's been trying to hide from, that Sam doesn't want to find out…

That Sam wants.

Dean's the reason for the frenzied pacing, the nightmares… the hard-ons and like the final picture clicking into a frame, he gets it, sees it all in the blink of an eye, in the flash of memory-

What he's been trying to remember, what's been niggling at him, in the back of his head, what brought this whole thing on-

#

It was that Supernatural Convention, the one Sam and Dean had been tricked into going to by Becky and Chuck, and those two dudes, what the hell were their names? They'd pretended to be Sam and Dean, role-playing like a couple of geeks but in the end, they'd dug in their heels and really come through, fighting the big bad right along with him and Sammy.

It was later, saying goodbye, when they'd wrapped arms around each other, casually told Dean they were partners, so comfortable in their own gay skin that Dean had almost been jealous. He said as much to Sam, after making a few homosexual jokes, and thought no more about it.

#

Until a couple of weeks later and they'd been drinking, Sam needling him about his latest conquest, a woman that looked really good after six shots of Jim Beam but the next morning turned out to be as old as a grandmother-

He'd made the mistake of telling his stupid little brother, when he'd let himself into the motel room the morning after, still skeeved at the miles of wrinkled skin he'd woken up to, the caked make-up that couldn't hide the years of damage and swearing he'd never take another fucking drink again.

Sam hadn't said a word at the time but the glint in his eye was enough to let Dean know he was gonna be teased bad for it and now, after a couple of shots, Sam was having a ball, clapping his hands and throwing back his head, laughing idiotically, finally getting payback for Dean having made him date an older woman once for a job-

"Shut up, Sam!"

"Dude, did she feel you up on the dance floor the whole night? No? Then, we're still not even, not by a long shot and I'm gonna milk this one for a while-"

He'd ordered them more hooch, hoping to get Sam so stupid drunk so he'd forget about Dean's one-nighter and soon enough, Sam's listing to one side, hanging onto the bar for balance, barely able to hold his head up-

Dean paid the tab and hauled Sam up, pulling one arm around Dean's neck as he dragged Sam drunkenly towards the door. Sam had looked down at him then, his eyes unfocused and words garbled but Dean heard, clear as day, "Dean, those two guys…remember…they were playing us at the convention…just…they were so normal, you know, not like gay dudes-I mean, they were just two guys, not-shit, I don't know what the fuck I want to say-." Sam is stumbling over the words, searching for the right ones and finally shrugging, giving up and blurting out the question working on his heart, "I guess, I mean…Hey, y-you ever been with a guy?"

He'd felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and instantly his walls were up for protection and he'd warily snorted out a laugh, stalling for time, "What, sexually? Why you asking, Sammy? You interested in that kind of thing?"

"Jus' answer the question, man."

He had them outside, in the parking lot, staggering towards the Impala before he replied shortly, not wanting to embellish, "A few. You?"

He hefted Sam into the passenger seat and slammed the door, getting in the driver's side and turned, staring hard at his brother, waiting for an answer, sucking in a harsh breath and holding it, suddenly more jealous than he'd ever been in his life and his stomach had curled inward, scared to death and what the fuck?

Sam met his eyes with a sad smile, "Wanted to, want to…can't."

"Never?"

Sam shook his head, affirming, "Never."

And fuck yeah…the relief that flowed through Dean's body was palpable, hadn't known how tight he was holding himself until his muscles relaxed, for some reason really glad it was virgin territory for Sam and he'd reached for the ignition, drunken haze clouding his mind before he found the question and turned to his brother, raising his eyebrows, "Why can't you?"

But Sam was already leaning back, feigningsleep and Dean's question floated heavy in the air.

#

He thinks about the look in Sam's eyes when he said 'want to', like in the present tense, like now and the sadness that had been rolling off him-

Wants to take that trembling body in his arms, kiss those incredible lips, wants to lose himself there, in the breath and smell and warmth of his baby brother, wants to make Sam so happy.

Yeah, Sammy, he 'wants to', too.

He rolls over, staring at his brother in the moonlit room, the face relaxed in sleep, so young, so innocent, he just can't do it, can't damage Sammy like that, even if it's what Sam wants to-

Can't touch him like he wants, kiss him like he wants, use that fucking gorgeous body the way he wants to-

Can he?

##

The next night, it happens again and he stares dully at Sam, pacing the room, doesn't know how the hell to fucking stop this, needs to help Sammy deal, get over this, man, because they both need sleep.

Unbroken, solid, like twenty hundred hours of it.

His brother's words skitter through the silence, hushed reverence, "God, want, want so bad, need to hide it, can't let it out, freaking starving for it."

And Dean's up, off his bed before he thinks it through, stops Sam mid stride, shoves him back down onto his own bed and clambers on top, holding down his brother with all his weight.

Sam fights him, struggling to stay upright, trying to buck Dean off with his hips and Dean digs in, wrapping his knees around Sam's torso, holding him in place.

He reaches down, to still Sam's hips, to stop him from moving and his hand brushes against the hard-on already bulging through pajama pants.

The reaction is instantaneous, the moan that rips out of Sammy's throat sweet pleasure, all dirty thoughts and filthy dreams and Sam's legs sprawl open, the spreading immediate, erotic, and Sam gives a gurgle of pleasure, bucks up into Dean's hands.

Fuck now, what's he supposed to do? Dean's flying without a net here, his dick already hardening, throbbing with hopes and wants, and he doesn't think anymore, just cups his hand around Sam's dick, and squeezes tight.

And the next thing he knows, he's sliding his hand inside, into the soft flannel pants, feeling his way and shit, Sam's commando, the hot flesh burning into his skin and he jerks back, almost loses his nerve.

Doesn't even know what the hell in his core is driving this, just knows this is the only goddamn way he'll ever be able to touch Sam and yeah, it's sick, yeah, it's perverted, but he's doing it, just the same, so fuck you's all around-

He lets his fingers curl around the velvet flesh, the moan out of Sam's mouth obscenely beautiful as he bucks up into Dean's grip, "Ohhhhhh, Unnnggghhhh….."

And he squeezes hard, lets his hand slide easy up and down, doesn't let himself think, just does it, mouth bone dry, heart in shreds because he's sunk down lower than he's ever gone before, a slug on a rock, not worthy of touching anything, much less his beautiful Sammy.

And to his surprise, Sam settles back and falls instantly asleep, mouth open and snoring loud, body relaxed and mind finally at peace.

Dean thinks Sam knows it's his hand, his touch and that's why Sam is finally resting.

He makes himself stop, has to because Sam's asleep now and there's no fucking reason whatsoever for Dean to still be there, letting his hand caress the firm length, the warm velvet skin-

But his hand tingles with heat now and the smell he keeps close, because it's Sammy's smell, better than the sweetest flower he's ever buried his nose in.

And he slinks back to his own bed, can't even be inside himself, so ashamed, so filthy because he actually touched Sam, felt the skin between them and wants more, so much fucking more-

Sam doesn't wake up again, sleeps peacefully through the night.

And Dean sleeps like a baby, Sam's smell next to his face.

##