Never imagined my first fic on here would be Supernatural-related, or even remotely close to slash, but what the heck. I should mention that I don't own any of the characters, I just like to play with their minds. Also, please excuse mistakes in grammar and whatnot, English is not my first language.
Sometimes, when the moon was up and the stars were shining bright and Dean was asleep, Sam wondered just how much hell had fucked him up. Sometimes, when Dean was asleep and Lucifer was with Sam, Sam wondered if he could ever live a normal life again. Sometimes, Sam forgot. Forgot that they were brothers and not just two men who travelled together.
Sometimes, when Lucifer was taunting him for his tears, Sam pondered if he could ever look his brother in the eye again, without feeling that agonizing pain. And sometimes, when Dean was asleep and Sam was awake, Sam would look at his brother and feel something unforgiveable. Something brothers weren't supposed to feel for each other. Sometimes, Sam fell in love with his brother, and he couldn't do anything about it.
It was at one of those times, where Sam would stay up late, pretending to be asleep, and just looked at Dean. He looked so peaceful. The short hair on his head, barely visible from the depths of his pillows. He made soft noises whenever he moved, and sometimes he would even speak. Mostly just fragments of sentences. A drop of drool was hanging from the side of his mouth. Sam snorted. He was probably dreaming about bacon cheeseburgers. Or sex. Or both. Sam liked to think that he knew his brother well enough to know how his mind worked.
He sighed and sunk his head into his own pillows, but sleep wouldn't come. Dean made one of his noises again and Sam turned towards him. Why did he have to sleep? He would just wake up all sweaty because of dreams he couldn't remember. He reckoned they were about his visit to inferno. Lucifer chuckled behind him. 'If only you knew.' Sam closed his eyes and listened to his brother's breathing. It soothed him in a way and finally, he was able to sleep.
It felt as though it was only moments later that the alarm clock rang. Sam opened his eyes and immediately panicked. Dean wasn't in his bed. He stumbled to his feet and rushed to the small kitchen area in the motel. Then he heard the shower running, and he calmed down. He threw on some clothes from the previous day. A simple shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He sat down by his computer. As he was researching the area they were currently staying in, he heard the shower being turned off.
Only moments later, a half-naked Dean walked out of the bathroom, whistling. Sam swallowed. Once. Twice. Then he turned his head to meet Dean's gaze. He felt like a horny teenager, trying his hardest not to look at some chick's breasts in a middle of a conversation.
'You're in a cheerful mood today,' he stated. 'Morning to you too, sunshine,' Dean replied, walking over to his bed, where he had laid out his clothes. 'So, any luck?' He threw the towel on the floor and grabbed a pair of boxers. Sam tried to look away, he really did, but no matter what he did, his eyes betrayed him.
Slowly, reluctantly, he stopped fighting, and his eyes travelled up and down his brother's muscular body. He couldn't help himself. His breath became hard to control and he was soon panting. Sitting still on the barstool became more difficult as his erection grew more prominent. Pretending to continue working on his research, he turned his body towards the counter and attempted to move a bit to ease the pressure.
If only he could tell Dean how much he wanted to lie next to him at night the way they did when they were younger. How much he wanted Dean to run his fingers through his hair and tell him it would all be okay. 'You still with me, Sammy?' Sam blinked and shook his head. 'Sorry, what?' Dean had just pulled up his pants, and stepped closer. 'Sammy, you okay? You seem a little off.'
'Yeah, Sammy. You need to tell him the truth. It's killing you. Come on. Touch him. Just a bit. For me,' Lucifer taunted from behind him. Sam shook his head and faced his brother. He snuck his hands together. 'Yeah, uh, right. I'm fine.' Lucifer's picture disappeared in an instant as a result of the self-inflicted pain. He prayed Dean hadn't noticed either of his problems. 'Did you sleep at all last night?' Dean asked. Sam nodded. 'Yeah, I just had a bad dream and woke up a couple of times.'
At least that part was true. 'Anyway, take a look at this,' Sam said, in an attempt to change the subject. Dean took the bait and leaned over his shoulder. Not an improvement, exactly, given Sam's current state, but he didn't dare say anything about it. 'A woman named Jenny Marx, in her mid-twenties, found dead five days ago,' Dean read, 'there were no signs of injuries, but the police are still waiting for a tox report. Seems like there's been some issues with the electricity in the lab…' he turned his head towards Sam.
'How does this have anything to do with us?' Sam clicked another tab in his browser, and pointed at the screen. 'There has been several other victims in the same building, every seven years in July. July 2005 – three women in their twenties, who were living together. Same thing. The police found high levels of carbon monoxide in their system. July 1998 – two women in their twenties found dead in their apartment. No trauma, but they had a high level of carbon monoxide in their system.
'Earlier, July 1991, 1984, 1977 – always with seven years apart, always with women in their twenties, and there are no survivors. I traced the first victims back to July 1921. Seems like a woman in her twenties lived in the same building. Magdalene Darlington was found dead next to the fireplace. Seven days later, her twin sister, Mary, died the same way. She was there to pick up her sister's stuff, and ended up dead in front of the fireplace.'
Dean sighed. 'Alright. So that gives us, what, 2 days to figure out what's causing this?' Sam nodded, 'right. I think our best call would be to talk to Jenny's roommate, Alexandra Harris. She still lives in the apartment.' Sam pulled up a picture from the news article.
The picture showed a woman with soft, black curls and piercing blue eyes. Dean whistled. 'Hellooooo, Alexandra. I think I'll talk to her. You be a good boy and… Do some more research or… whatever.' Sam sighed, but agreed. 'Fine. Go talk to her. I'll stay here and do some "research or whatever". You wouldn't mind fetching us some breakfast would you? I'm starving.'
Sam sighed in relief the moment his brother was out the door. He threw himself on the bed, still tired from the all but sleepless night. He lay there for a good fifteen minutes, unconsciously stroking his arousal through his trousers, until he realised it wasn't going away anytime soon. Once again, he exhaled and rose from the bed.
Thinking he shouldn't do anything where he would be visible the moment someone entered, he made his way to the bathroom, locked the door and sat down on the bathroom floor. It took all the willpower he had not to ejaculate all over his pants the moment he unzipped them. Dean would probably not be back too soon, so he had time.
Dean. His brother's name made his cock twitch with anticipation. Sam couldn't help himself anymore. This is wrong. The protests of his brain were futile. Sam's hands were already gripping tightly around his shaft, fondling his sack and he surrendered himself to the pleasure. Dean. The picture of his brother this morning was dancing before his eyes.
He could almost hear him call his name. Sam's breathing sped up and he was panting as his hands worked rhythmically. He pictured Dean's hands doing the same. Slowly, he brought one hand to the spot behind his ear. 'Dean,' he moaned, caressing his own earlobe, picturing Dean planting soft kisses on his neck. He sped up the movement of his hands and inhaled sharply. With his brother's name on his lips, he came.
Hands full of hamburgers, fries, two cokes and pie, don't forget the pie, Dean opened the motel door and walked inside. He put the food down on the counter, next to Sam's laptop. 'Sammy?' He called out to his brother as he searched the small room. The beds were empty, and he couldn't see him anywhere. For a moment, he stood still, listening. At first, there was nothing, but just as he was about to call Sam's phone, he heard his brother's voice. It was coming from the bathroom.
Dean stepped closer. He heard a silent moan. Was his brother in pain? He stepped even closer and put his ear to the door. 'D-Dean!' There was no mistake. Sam had just called out his name. Dean couldn't wrap his head around what his brother was doing. Had he just witnessed Sammy-? Eyes wide in shock, he scrambled backwards, almost tripping over his own feet.
So what did you think? How bad was it? Do you feel like throwing something at a wall? Do you feel the need to shoot a helpless writer? Please leave a review, even if it is just ":D" or "D:"
I can't promise I will update this very soon, I'm not at all that into Supernatural at the moment, but no worries, the love will come back ;3