Dean came with a violent thrust into Sam's willing mouth, the motel bed sheet balled in his fists, his eyes screwed up tight, doing his best to bite back a scream. He fell back against the bed, panting. He thrust lazily into his brother s mouth, riding out the last traces of his orgasm. When he finished, he stared open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the ceiling, exhausted and panting.
Sam rolled off of Dean's legs onto the bed, panting from the exertion. Pleased with himself, he grinned, trailing his finger gently along his brother's thigh. "How was that, big brother?"
When his brother didn't answer, Sam rolled onto his stomach to look at him.
"Dean?"
Dean didn't move except for the rise and fall of his muscled chest. Still gazing absently at the ceiling, he reached out, feeling for his little brother.
His hand found Sam's head, and he gently played with his brother's hair.
"Sammy, you have a goddamn gift."