Wanting to Forget
Summary: 1-shot. S1 fic. After getting Sam freed from the Benders Dean thinks all he has to cope with is some bruises and cuts. He learns quickly just how wrong he is when Sam wakes up with a nightmare, reliving his brief but bad captivity in every detail. Sam just wants to forget & Dean has to try to get him to let him help. Will one night of cruelty and pain ruin what's been formed between them? *Hurt/scared/traumatized!Sam & worried/angry/over protective big brother!Dean* See warnings & note! (Wincest)
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Warning: This one comes with a blanket warning for language, violence that's both implied, shown in dialogue and some descriptive sense. Non-con/rape is also both implied, mentioned & minorly described but mostly in dialogue in the start so this one also carries a trigger warning so read cautiously or be aware of the warnings. It also carries explicit content later on.
Tags/Spoilers: No, to both. It takes place after the Benders episode in season 1.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Note: First let me thank my beta, Jenjoremy, who I have been working terribly hard these past few weeks for her quick beta'ing on this piece.
This one is also a Stories4Charities request and also since a loyal reader (judyann) of my other pieces and this kind has been asking me for years to expand on a few hints I've dropped in other stories about what else might have gone on with Sam that night so I finally got to it. (I'll probably do a gen cover too…sometime.)
~SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN~
"'Get his ass over the bench and cuff him down! Pa said we could have fun with this little bitch before we hunt him.'"
"'Ohhh, look at him. Been awhile since we played with meat this fresh and young. He's a fighter though. He thinks he can get away. Not gonna be that simple, pretty boy. Me and my brother are gonna use you real good and then toss you into a cage 'til we're ready to hunt ya.'"
"'He's a big'un but he ain't grown out of those baby doll looks. Maybe Pa will keep him around until little Missy's older so she can have a go at him.'"
"'Nah, pretty boy here's gonna have his ass pounded and that soft lookin' mouth used real good like the bitch he is. Then we're gonna hunt him down in the woods…or maybe he'll be lucky and Pa'll just kill him flat out. If he don't then we can get another shot at his ass. This tight pretty little hole don't look like it's been used too much if ya ask me. Gonna fix that soon enough, bitch!"
"'…no. Uhh, what're…no! Stop it! Don't touch…let me…arghh!'"
"'Hot damn, Lee! This little bitch is so tight…like the first time we caught ourselves a virgin. I think we might haveta to talk Pa into letting us keep this one a little longer. We can give him to Missy when we're not fucking him.'"
"'No! Please…stop it! You can't…I'm…my brother will mhmh!'"
"'Ohh, that's so good. You bite me and I swear I'll start pullin' those pretty white teeth until you ain't got none no more, bitch! And no one's gonna come lookin' for you or find you so if you wanna last longer than our last bitch, you better learn to be real nice to us. Now you suck me while my brother shoves his cock into that tight little hole…then we gonna switch. Maybe we'll let little sis take a look at you.'"
"'No! No! Stop! St…'"
"Noooo!"
The sudden terrified scream that tore through the uneasy hot summer night had Dean Winchester jerking out of a semi-sound sleep and going for the .45 he kept under his pillow. "Sam?"
The older of the two brothers rolled out of bed, ignoring the fact that he was only in a t-shirt and boxer briefs in his haste to find out who was attacking them or why his younger brother had woken up screaming.
Sharp green eyes were alert for an intruder or some kind of monster that had gotten past the barriers of salt, but after a quick look assured him the room was empty, Dean focused on Sam. He could see that his brother's hazel eyes were wide open but sightless, caught in a nightmare that had sent him screaming and thrashing from his sleep, lashing out with long arms and legs as if fighting to get away.
Groaning with relief as he realized there was no immediate danger, Dean flicked the safety back on his .45 and placed it on the nightstand before moving over to Sam's bed.
For the last month or so, Dean had taken to renting rooms with just a king-sized bed. After a heavy night of drinking, they had made a few confessions to each another, and after that, the need for two beds sort of disappeared.
Tonight, however, after the mess with the crazy Bender family, he'd gotten them two beds since he knew Sam would be exhausted and sore from being locked in that tiny-ass cage, a cage that was too small for a normal man much less his 6'4" baby brother.
Dean was used to hunting monsters and the supernatural, but he'd faced his fair share of sick-minded humans in his 26 years as well. It had just been awhile, and he was still fighting to calm his shaking hands at the thought of how close he'd come to actually losing Sam to the bastards who hunted people for sport…and maybe food…Dean wasn't sure about that one. He was just relieved he and the deputy had found Sam in time and put a stop to the family.
Dean had patched them up as best as he could on the long walk back to the Impala. The burn on his right shoulder where a hot poker had been placed was his only serious wound aside from the bump on the back of his head. It was Sam who had worried him.
The younger man hadn't said a word during the hike even though it was clear from the way he was walking that he was in pain. As Dean drove them a few towns away to avoid any cops or interrogations, he had questioned his little brother about what had happened between the time he was grabbed in the parking lot and when he'd gotten to him, but all Sam would admit to was a few bruises and a headache.
Now as Dean listened to the screams and muffled, broken pleas, he could feel his blood begin to boil. His stomach also began to flip in a sick way as Sam begged his unseen attacker not to hurt him anymore.
"Sam? Hey, Sammy…c'mon…wake up for me." Dean dodged a flailing fist and cursed his own stupidity for slipping a damn sleeping pill into the half of glass of whiskey he'd practically forced down his brother's throat. He had hoped to settle his little brother down for a decent night's sleep, but now as Sam couldn't seem to escape his nightmare, it appeared that Dean's plan had backfired.
As Dean struggled to both wake his brother up and calm him down, he thought back to the signs he had missed, or ignored, earlier in the evening. He should've known something worse than a beating had happened when Sam flinched at the simple brush of his lips over his forehead or when he had jerked away from an unexpected touch in the Impala. Damn it…he suspected what those bastards had done to his brother and he realized that they had died much too easily.
Suddenly it made sense that Sam's body had gone rigid when he'd tried to convince him to go in the house after his rescue so he could check him for injuries before heading for the Impala. Sam had refused to go inside, insisting he was fine.
Now Dean grabbed one of Sam's flailing hands and pulled it to his own chest. As he leaned over to reach for Sam's other hand, he noticed something that turned his boiling blood to ice. The white motel sheets were dotted with small red blotches; Dean immediately knew those splotches were blood.
"Sonuvabitch!" he snarled, fury filling him as he realized Sam's jeans were also damp; Dean desperately wished he could go back and kill each of those men with his bare hands. "Sammy!"
The sudden, sharp, pissed off voice of his older brother finally broke through the images and memories of rough, filthy hands on him, of feeling the men rape him brutally. He couldn't seem to escape the wretched pain of Lee Bender's first attack, which had nearly ripped him in two. He was still gagging over the choking sensation of an engorged cock being shoved down his throat again and again.
Sam blinked at his brother who was staring down at him with a mix of emotions on his face. Sam closed his eyes again, knowing he should have told his brother he was he was hurt when Dean first found him. He knew he was torn and bleeding, but he couldn't bring himself to tell his older brother what had happened and risk the look of anger and shame that he knew would follow.
The younger Winchester had just wanted to get away from the place, find a motel where he could shower it all away, so he had told his brother that he was basically fine, just bruised, and he had refused to go back into that house. When they had finally reached a hotel, Sam found he didn't even have the energy to manage a shower; he had collapsed into bed, finally giving in and drinking the whiskey Dean kept pushing at him.
That had been a bad idea. He didn't think he had drunk that much whiskey, but for some reason, he couldn't fully wake up; he couldn't escape the memory of being chained to that damn bench and raped over and over.
He felt a strong grip on his wrist, and tried to pull way, but when the touch moved to his waist, near the waistband of his jeans, the motel room disappeared and Sam was back with the Benders.
"Stop it!" he screamed, jerking to lash out with his other hand and feeling it connect with something solid. "Leave me alone…stop touching me!" He thought he heard a familiar voice a moment before a heavy weight settled on his body to pin him down and his terror exploded. "No! I won't let you…Dean!"
His final cry was for his brother who had always been Sam's go-to when petrified; he'd been praying throughout the entire ordeal that his older brother would by some miracle find him…save him but another piece of Sam desperately hoped that Dean wouldn't ever find out what had happened to him.
Firm calloused fingers suddenly gripped his jaw just hard enough to keep his head from thrashing, and a familiar voice penetrated the cruel, sick scenes he had been reliving; he blinked a few times and found himself staring up into worried green eyes.
"… … De'n," he gasped, dropping a letter in his brother's name like he had done when he was very small. He blinked his blurry eyes clear until he saw Dean's worried face hovering over him. Fingers brushed his cheek and Sam jerked his head away.
Sam's heart was pounding so hard and so fast he could hear it in his ears, but when he tasted the sourness coming up his throat he knew he had to move, he had to get off the bed. "Get…" He choked off as panic filled his eyes, but big brother instinct warned Dean what was about to happen, and he shifted his weight off of Sam who bolted off the bed and into the bathroom to throw up.
The sickness that came up was as harsh and violent as the acts that violated Sam to begin with, and by the time it turned to dry heaves, the young hunter was sobbing uncontrollably. He gradually became aware of the firm yet gentle hand that was rubbing his neck and back; he jerked away as the touch hit a sore spot and he cried out in pain.
"Please…just don' touch me yet," he begged through tears, coughing to try to clear his mouth of the foul taste. He heard the tap turn on and then felt a cool hand on his forehead to ease it up enough so he could sip from the plastic cup.
"Rinse and spit," Dean instructed from where he knelt to the side, wetting a cloth to lay on the back of Sam's neck. He frowned as he saw the deep bruises coloring his brother's neck; he'd somehow missed those in his earlier inspection. "Okay, so I think we both know how this is going to play out, but I'll give you a choice only because I didn't see you puke up any blood. You can come clean with me on just what the hell those bastards did to you and let me help you or I put you in the car and go to the nearest clinic or ER I can find. Your choice, little brother."
Sam absolutely hated the idea of telling Dean more than his brother must have already figured out by now, but he hated the idea of going to an ER, of dealing with the invasive questions, the looks, and the fake smiles even more. He tried to shake his head only to groan at the pain he was in as it came back with a vengeance. "You," he whispered, head spinning a little, and he started to fall to the side until a strong arm came around his shoulders to support him. Suddenly Sam felt like he was 12 again; he just wanted to crawl into his brother's arms, so Dean could make the pain and sick shame go away. "Dean…I…I tried to…"
"Shhh, I know you did, baby boy." Dean was pissed but not at Sam. He was pissed at himself for letting Sam be grabbed in the first damn place, and he was mostly pissed at the sick freaks who'd not only locked his little brother in a goddamn cage like an animal but also hurt him in a way that Dean wasn't sure how to fix. "This isn't your fault, and they're not alive to hurt you or anyone again. Why didn't you tell me sooner, Sam?" he asked as he eased to the floor next to his brother in the tiny motel bathroom. He could feel the rigidness in Sam's body gradually drain away until slowly he seemed to relax and soon leaned over more. "There's blood on the bed, and I'm betting these jeans will be hitting the trash…do you need a hospital? Be honest with me, kiddo."
"I…I don't think…" Sam bit his lower lip as his drooping eyes caught sight of the amulet around his brother's neck, and he latched onto that to give him the courage to face this moment. "I don't know," he admitted softly, wincing as gentle fingers reached to touch his side and he hissed. "It…it hurts pretty bad. I didn't tell you 'cause…I didn't want you to be angry with me. I should've been able to stop them, but I was dizzy from getting knocked out and the…the first time they cuffed me to this bench and…" His voice broke off with a sob, not wanting the vivid memories to return but unable to stop them or the harsh voices of the Benders as they taunted and made sick comments as they fucked him both physically and emotionally.
As he sat still with Sam curling up more in his arms, Dean was biting down hard on his lip to keep the words he wanted to say inside. He knew scaring Sam now would just make him think he was pissed off at him and that wasn't the case.
"Ashamed?" Sam's voice was whisper soft, like it used to get when he'd been younger and scared or sick, fingers clutching the little bronze amulet so tight his knuckles were white while tears fell unknowingly down his face to soak into the t-shirt Dean had slept in. "Of me?"
If Dean hadn't already been worried about his brother's state of mind, then those broken words and soft voice would have given him reason to be. "No, I'm not ashamed of you, Sammy," he assured him, careful to keep his deep voice low and calm despite the anger still surging inside him. "You did nothing to be ashamed about. I told you that before, and I'll repeat it until you believe it. What happened was not your fault. There are times when you can't fight back. You were alone and hurt; I know you tried to stop them…" He closed his eyes as he tried not to picture his scared brother being touched by the freaks.
"I'm going to go throw on some jeans and pull out the first-aid kit. While I do that, I want you to try to get everything off so we can get you into the shower and cleaned up. Then I'll dress any wounds and patch you up…unless you think something will need stitches that you're not gonna want me to handle?" Dean watched long lashes and longer hair fall into frightened eyes and fought back the burning need to smash his fist into something or someone.
"Hey, look at me." He waited until slowly, as if afraid of what he'd see, Sam's eyes did finally lift enough to meet his gaze. He knelt down and let his hand slide over to cup the side of Sam's face gently, his thumb brushing a deep bruise on his cheek. "I've got you now, little brother. I'm here and I'm gonna take care of you. Alright?"
Sam was a little stunned to not see what he thought he would in his brother's eyes. He'd expected anger, and he did see that, but he could tell it wasn't aimed at him. He'd expected to see disappointment or shame, but all he saw in those deep green eyes was the same caring and concern he always did when he was hurt or upset; he felt some of his nerves settling down and he was able to nod shakily.
He waited until he heard something hit the floor, which meant Dean was searching in their duffels for the first –aid kit before he started to work on removing his clothes.
Since he'd been lying down and not moving, Sam could feel the stiffness working through his body as he struggled to undress; by the time Dean stepped back in with his jeans on but unbuttoned, Sam had only managed to get his sweat soaked hoodie halfway off.
"Shit!" He heard Dean let out a harsh oath and winced at the touch of gentle fingers moving over the massive amount of black and blue bruising that Sam figured by now littered his back, side, and ribs. "Can you breathe alright?"
"So long as I don't take a deep one…yeah, it's not so bad," Sam admitted, grunting as he was helped to his feet and leaned against a wall. "Think…think I have a fever though. Why?"
Dean's palm was immediately on his forehead and he frowned at the low-grade fever he could feel; he wasn't happy with the implications either. "Can I take these off?" He needed the jeans off but he didn't want to freak his brother out by pushing for it or trying to touch him without warning.
Tensing, Sam slowly nodded, accepting that he needed help and clamping his eyes shut against the pain and also the feelings rolling through his stomach at the feel of even Dean's hands on him right then. "Talk…to me?" he suddenly asked, needing to hear his brother's deep soothing tone of voice if he was going to make it through this because in the silence, all he could hear were the Benders and his own screams.
"Yeah, I'll talk to you, Sammy," Dean assured him as he carefully eased the jeans and underwear down long shaking legs. He had to bite down hard on the inside of his jaw to keep in the words and anger that wanted to pour out as a result of seeing spots of both dried and fresh blood along with splotches of other stuff that he didn't want to identify on Sam's thighs, ass, and groin.
Sam's reactions, his nightmares, and his whispered confession earlier told Dean what had happened, but seeing the actual damage, the results of what those sick-minded bastards had done to his brother, made him both sick and furious.
Pushing his emotions aside until he was alone, he focused on taking care of Sam. Dean forced his hands not to shake as he got his brother into a tub of warm water doused with antiseptic and tried to ignore the muffled whimpers and low sobs he heard as the water stung the myriad of wounds on the younger man. Dean did his best to soothe the boy with calm words and a gentle touch.
Washing the blood, come, sweat, and filth away gave Dean a better idea of his brother's wounds, and he once again wondered if an ER might not be the best thing. He grimaced as fingers weakly clutched at his arm as he worked to clean the mess of bruised and torn flesh that was Sam's ass.
"Shh, you're gonna be fine, little brother," Dean whispered after draining and filling the tub with clean water to be sure he'd gotten all the filth and blood off. He then worked to get Sam out of the tub and dried off before leading him back into the bedroom and gently laying him on his bed. He positioned Sam on his side rather than his stomach since he'd seen the bruises and raw skin at the base of his cock; Sam hadn't explained that injury and Dean didn't want to ask, but it looked like something, maybe a tight leather strap, had been tied around his brother.
"This is gonna hurt, Sam. Do you want another shot of whiskey or a pill to put you to sleep while I clean this up and see if you need stitches?"
Sam would love to sleep through this nightmare, but he also knew he couldn't close his eyes or sleep right then without sinking back into the memories, so he shook his head quickly, teeth biting into his lower lip. "De'n?" He glanced over his shoulder to try to pin his brother's eyes down when suddenly the feel of soft leather with the familiar smells of gun oil, leather, and Dean was placed in front of him. Instantly his arms went around the battered leather jacket that had once been their Dad's but had been Dean's for longer than the Impala had been. "Thanks."
Ever since Sam had been little, if he was sick, scared, or hurt, it calmed him to hold onto his brother's jacket so as he felt it now, he began to feel a little better, and when he felt something be placed into his hand and his fingers closed over what he knew without looking was his brother's amulet, he offered a weak smile of gratitude.
"I don't want it getting in the way while I do this, so you hang onto that until I'm done." Dean thought it was a good excuse even though normally he would have just slipped the bronze amulet under his shirt if it was in his way. He knew Sam needed extra comfort right so on this night he slipped it off to place it into Sam's hand because he knew between it and his jacket, his little brother might manage to stay calm through the next part of this.
Dean kept his touch light and his voice soft as he got the light where he needed it and gingerly inspected the red, swollen, abused hole. It showed definite signs tearing around the rim, so he actually reached for a pair of latex gloves; they kept several pairs in the first aid kit but rarely used them.
Normally he wouldn't have bothered with the gloves. Since they'd admitted to each another a few months ago that they both had feelings that weren't so brotherly, Dean had touched this spot on his brother plenty of times. He also wasn't worried about getting Sam's blood on his hands because that ship had long ago sailed. He was worried about any open cuts or tears getting infected, so he used the damn gloves.
"Hey, you know this doesn't mean anything, right?" Dean had heard the muffled sob that broke free at the first touch of his fingertip up past the rim to feel the torn skin caused by the violent assaults. "I'll say the same thing that I've been saying all night: this wasn't your fault, little brother. Ghosts and the supernatural crap we hunt aren't the only monsters out there. The human ones are just better at hiding and harder to kill…usually."
Sam swallowed his next sob and tried to hold still as Dean gently poked and prodded. He hated that his brother had to see him like this, so damaged, and he mourned the loss of the new relationship. After this, Dean would certainly never want to touch him again.
Dean sat back and blew out a relieved breath that the damage wasn't as bad as he head feared it might me. "I don't think any of these tears need stitches, little brother. You're gonna be sore and raw for a while…so I think we're back to hand and blow jobs…once you feel okay with me touching you." Dean squeezed the shoulder under his one hand and felt Sam startle as if surprised at his words. "I said this wasn't your fault, Sam. I don't blame you and I'm not ashamed of you. This, what those crazy rednecks did to you, makes me wish I'd killed them a little slower, but it doesn't change how I feel for you in any way."
Taking care to use the antibiotic cream that also killed pain as he cared for the tears inside his brother, Dean kept his voice steady as he talked about mainly mindless things to distract Sam from what he was doing. Once he was done, he pulled the gloves off and tossed them into the pile of bloody towels, rags, and clothes that he planned to burn once they were clear of this place. He then moved so he was sitting on the bed, shifted so that he faced his brother.
"Look at me, Sammy." Dean's fingers curved over his face to tilt his lowered head up while carding his fingers back through damp hair and letting Sam see his face as he offered a calm and loving smile. "I love you, little brother."
Sam's eyes had been drifting closed at the touch, comforted by it and Dean's presence, but his eyes snapped back open at those words and he stared at his brother. He could count on one hand the number of times that his no chick flick moments older brother had willingly said those words to him, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to hear them now.
"I know I don't say it enough to you. I know I never have, but I really hope that you know how much I love you." Dean's fingers trailed over a livid bruise on Sam's cheek before leaning closer to brush a feather soft kiss over it. He felt some tension drain out of his shoulders when Sam didn't flinch away from the touch. "But I get it. I get that you need to hear me say it out loud sometimes…like now. I can see it in those big puppy dog eyes of yours…how scared you are that I'm ashamed of you for what those assholes did…or that I won't want to touch you and that…" He paused to let their foreheads rest together. "…is so not the case."
Dean took his jacket and gently laid it over Sam while letting him keep the amulet. He reached for a pair of loose and worn sweatpants and slipped them onto his brother, hoping he could sleep for the rest of the night. "I never should've let you outta my sight back at that damn bar. I shouldn't have teased you or made you wait for me so this, what happened to you, is on me if it's on anyone besides those freaks. I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner than I did, Sammy."
"No…Dean, it's not your fault." Sam tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but he quickly realized he wouldn't be lying on his back anytime soon. His injuries would also make sitting up more than a little uncomfortable and a car ride nearly impossible. "I should've seen the attack coming…but I didn't. I…tried to fight but couldn't get loose…but you got there. You saved me from worse…from them doing it…again." He clutched the amulet in one hand while moving his other up to touch the shoulder he knew was hurt on his brother. "They…they hurt you too."
"No, baby boy. They pushed me around, bashed me in the head, and burned my shoulder…but they hurt you," Dean corrected. He knew it would be a long time before he got the sound of Sam's screams or the sight of what those damn Benders had done to his brother out of his mind. "I promise you that this is going to get better with time, and I'll be right here with you every step of the way, whether you need a shoulder to lean on, a face to punch, or an ear to listen. And whenever you think you need me or want me for something else? Then we'll go slowly. No pressure…when we do do something, it'll be what you can do or want to do. Okay?" His fingers stayed still on Sam's face as if just there to let him know that he wasn't alone.
Sam's eyes burned, but he didn't want to show that much weakness in front of his brother after the meltdown he'd already had. "Can…you stay here with me?" he did ask. He didn't think he could sleep alone because he was still too raw emotionally and longed for the silent strength being with Dean gave him.
"That was my plan, Sammy." Dean had no intention, now that he knew what had happened, of leaving his brother to sleep alone. He knew how Sam could get and had no plan to let him face those nightmares alone, so he shifted until he could stretch out on the edge of the bed while still giving Sam plenty of room. "This okay or…or I could move over a little more…" He blinked in surprise when he suddenly had his arms full of shaking little brother as Sam buried his face against his shoulder with a muffled sob and hot tears flowed when, despite Sam's best attempts, his emotions boiled over and he had to let them out.
"It hurt so damn much, De'n," he sobbed, still feeling their hands on him, still feeling the pain in his ass. He inwardly wondered if he would be ever able to let Dean touch him or have sex again. "They…my mouth…and I tried to bury myself…but it was all too much and…"
"Shhh, I know, Sammy, I know," Dean murmured, willing his hand to unclench so he could touch Sam without scaring him more. He kept his fingers moving through soft dark hair while whispering soothing words until finally, after what seemed like hours of Sam telling him every shocking detail, as if trying to purge the memories, he felt his brother's shaking body slowly go still, and Dean knew he'd cried himself to sleep.
Carefully wrapping his arm around Sam's still tense shoulders to bring him closer against his chest, Dean adjusted the leather jacket around Sam to keep him warm. It was a warm and muggy night, but his little brother still shivering from the shock. He folded the hand that was clutching his amulet into his tightly.
"It won't happen again, baby brother," he vowed thickly, fury still burning in his blood. He hoped that once Sam was healed, they came up on a hunt that required more than rocksalt so he could burn off his rage. "I swear that no one hurts what's mine again, and that you will get over this…it might take some time, but you will get over this, Sammy.
Dean stayed awake until the sun could be seen peeking through the blinds. He pressed his lips to Sam's now cool forehead before closing his eyes with the hopes that they could recover from this in time.
Several weeks later, outside of New Paltz, New York:
Packing their duffels up while he waited gave Dean a chance to think. It had been several grueling weeks since Sam's encounter with the Benders, and his brother was finally starting to act like his old self: geeky and cranky all rolled into one.
Sam had recovered quickly from the physical wounds, but the emotional scars were taking much longer. He was still jerking at unexpected sounds and wouldn't go into a dark room unless Dean entered first. He was also still battling nightmares and flashes of memory, and these were taking a toll on both brothers.
Dean accepted that he was the picture of stubborn, but his little brother had their father's stubbornness plus his hard head times infinity…and it had been showing. Sam hated being scared or appearing weak, so he was moodier than usual.
His brother desperately wanted to resume their sexual relationship, if only to prove to himself that he was okay, but anytime he finally coaxed Dean into doing more than simply kissing or the occasional hand job, he'd tense up and pull back. Rather than accept Dean's calm and understanding words Sam's temper would spike, and he'd start lashing out until they were fighting. Then after the darker emotions drained him of energy, Sam's huge sad eyes would well with tears he fought to keep from falling and he'd stay curled into himself until finally Dean could coax him into his arms.
Glancing at the clock Dean's lips thinned, and he reminded himself that it was his idea to leave Sam with the pretty Sarah Blake who was clearly very attracted to his little brother. Now he was fighting back odd feelings in his gut at the thought of the young woman touching Sam. Damn it! He didn't do jealous!
Since crossing that line, it had been sort of an unspoken agreement that they would only be with each another, but this time, he was trying to give Sam a break. He thought perhaps being with Sarah wouldn't bring back the flashbacks of being assaulted by the Benders because Dean hated the haunted and guilty look that Sam got when they were close and he tensed.
He'd just come back into the room after tossing the duffels into the trunk when he heard a car door slam, and his little brother shout good-bye. Huh…he'd expected Sam to be gone a little longer than 35 minutes.
"Hey, I wasn't expecting you back until the…what the goddamn hell, Sam?!" Sam practically exploded into the room, and instead of looking sheepish or relaxed, his baby brother looked extremely pissed off. The next thing Dean knew, he was against the wall with Sam's hands wrapped in his shirt and his mouth covering his in a heated kiss. "Uh…Sammy? You okay?"
"Don't ever do that again." Sam's eyes were dark, hooded, and completely focused on the soft lips he'd just been ravaging. His fingers clenched and unclenched in black cotton while his tongue swiped over his own lips. "Don't ever leave me like that because you think I want to be with a woman over you."
The unexpected kiss had jumpstarted Dean's body, and he was trying to keep himself under control so that he didn't pounce on his brother who was leaning into his space; their bodies were only inches apart. "Just…I just thought maybe you could relax around her…you know…'cause you haven't been able to with me."
"I can't relax around you because I want you too damn much and I'm afraid of screwing it up if I panic at the wrong time," Sam ground out, temper sizzling as it had been from the moment he realized what Dean had done and why.
He'd known Sarah liked him and she was pretty so there was definitely an attraction, but Sam had no doubts about where his loyalty lay. In a way, however, Dean's plan had worked. He'd finally grown disgusted with his own fears, so when he'd asked Sarah to drive him back to the motel, Sam had known what he was going to do the second he walked into room.
Sam had reached the point where he was sick and tired of being afraid. He hated being jumpy. He hated the nightmares. He hated that his own cocky and self-confident brother walked on eggshells around him. He hated that the goddamn fear still clung to him when he knew the Benders, except for Missy, were dead.
Now as he slowly looked up to meet wary, cautious green eyes that were just a touch heated, Sam licked his lips again. "I want you," he announced suddenly, firmly, and in a steady voice. He smiled at the flash of lust that crossed his brother's face even as Dean was clearly trying to tamp it down out of concern. "I want you," he repeated, and then before he could change his mind or his brother could get a handle on this situation, he pushed Dean onto the bed closest to the door. "Now."
"Whoa…what're you…" Dean blinked in shock as he landed on his back on the bed. He started to move, to try to sit up and make sure Sam was really okay with this, but a single heated look stopped him. "Huh," he murmured, settling himself back down. He could see the want in Sam's eyes along with a desperate need to prove something to himself rather than to Dean. Sam quickly pulled off his jacket and shirt and began to tug restlessly at his brother's jeans, trying to get them open with hands that weren't quite steady. "Okay, Sammy. Okay. You need control this time? Then you have it…so long as you're sure this is…mhmhm."
Sam's lips were sure if nothing else was; he was using all the skills he'd learned from watching Dean when they'd been teenagers to shut the older hunter up. He finally unfastened his brother's jeans, which were becoming tight as his erection grew.
"Want you," he muttered breathlessly, tugging the denim down slightly bowed legs, moaning as he saw that Dean had gone commando that day. "Really?"
"What? It wasn't like she was giving me those long soulful looks…I figured I was safe." Dean's chuckles gave way to gasps as his body suddenly remembered how long it had been since he'd even jerked himself off. "Sam, you don't have to do this. We can wait until…"
"I'm tired of waiting, Dean." Sam was tired. He was also suddenly harder than he'd been in weeks as he tried to get his own clothes the rest of the way off while keeping contact with his brother as if he expected Dean to call this off. "I need this. I…need…I mean…"
Leaning up to pull his t-shirt over his head, Dean closed a hand over the back of Sam's neck to bring his mouth closer. "I need you too, little brother," he whispered against Sam's lips and smiled as he fell back to the mattress. "Your play, Sammy."
All the way to the motel Sam had been debating on what to do and how to do it. While he really did want to feel Dean's cock filling and stretching him, there was one other thing the younger man wanted first; he felt like he needed to conquer his biggest fear from that horrible night.
"I want so much, Dean." Sam rubbed his hand slowly over the still puckered scar on Dean's shoulder before easing between his legs, sliding his lips down tone muscles. "I want to feel you fill me up…I want to ride you…but there's something else I need first…" He knew when Dean picked up on his intent because strong fingers curled gently in his hair, but Dean didn't make a move to stop him. "I told you how they fucked my mouth. I've always loved sucking you off from the first time you let me do it, and I don't want to let them take that away from us."
"Sammy…" This time Dean's fingers did tighten in the soft hair, but he hesitated to pull it as darkened hazel eyes lifted and met his. He swallowed the words of caution as he recognized his brother's need to prove that he could still do this. "You don't have to."
"I know I don't…that's part of why I want to." That's one of the things that Sam adored about his brother. He was never forced, or even coaxed, into anything that he didn't feel ready for.
Dean had always, from the very first time, moved slowly and let him make the choices in what they did and how far they went. This time, like their very first time, Dean sensed that Sam needed that control.
"I want to suck you off." Sam's smile was shaky but sure as his fingers curled around the thick, blood red and already hard and dripping cock.
The first touch caused him to flash for a moment on Lee Bender, but he gritted his teeth, forcing the memory away, refusing to let what was done to him ruin what he'd finally been able to achieve with Dean after years of longing, lusting, and wanting his brother. Before Dean could sense his nerves, Sam let the head slip between his lips and he wasn't sure who groaned first, him or Dean.
It had taken Sam a lot of practice to get to the point where he could suck Dean off without gagging, and while he still couldn't take him all the way in, he knew what his brother liked. He used all of his skills now as he began to suck slowly over the head while his tongue slid over and around to add to the sensation of his mouth.
"Fuck, fuck…Sammy…" Dean's eyes wanted to roll back at the sensation of the hot wet mouth locked around his cock, but he forced them to stay focused on his brother; he felt the need to gauge Sam's reactions in case he got upset or the memories came back too hard. "God, you're so good at this. Hmmm…" He sank the fingers of the hand not raking through Sam's hair into the mattress as he made his body stay still rather than thrust up like he might have before.
He knew from what Sam had said, and also what he hadn't, what had happened, so he was trying to stay still, to not move up into that heat, but the feel of Sam's tongue licking over his slit nearly undid him. The first touch of long shaky fingers over his balls broke his concentration for a split second and his hips thrust up.
"Shit!" he cursed, worry plain in his strained voice, but as he saw that Sam's focus was still on what he was doing, Dean relaxed again. He watched the emotions that came and went over his little brother's face as he took his cock a little deeper into his mouth. "So damn good, baby boy."
Sam's eyes had closed at the taste of Dean in his mouth, and he sucked a little harder, tongue in constant motion, over the slit, down the underside, along the nerve that he knew would make Dean's whole body shudder. He could feel the balls that his fingers were stroking getting fuller and knew by the moans and words coming from his brother that Dean was close.
So was Sam; he felt his own cock respond to the friction as he rubbed down on the rough material of the comforter, realizing that he hadn't felt real pleasure in weeks. While he wished it was Dean's hand on him, he would take what he could get this time and find time for more the next time they did this.
"Sammy…Sam, I'm gonna…fuck…I'm not going to be able to…Sam!" Dean had been trying to hold his orgasm off as long as possible, but when he felt that he couldn't any longer then he knew he needed to get his brother's attention.
Before the case in Minnesota, Sam had only just started being able to swallow, and given that his brother would be wary and tense, he wasn't sure if Sam wanted to go that far yet. He started to warn him off when those deep eyes, black with lust but for a ring of hazel, just lifted to hold his while pulling off enough to keep just the head in his mouth.
Sam knew what to do to make his brother fall over the edge. As he sucked, he swirled his tongue at the same time his fingers slipped up behind Dean's balls to touch a spot he'd learned would have the same effect as if his cock or finger had hit his prostate. He tasted hot come a second before Dean came with a ragged shout of his name.
It was that taste, bitter and sweet with something that Sam knew was all Dean, that had him following over into his own climax; white strips of come covered his stomach and the bed as his hips continued to thrust down while his mouth suckled deeper with a low moan of pleasure.
The emotions were surging through him as his body was winding down from his climax and he moaned softly. His body was starting to go limp when he gasped as he was suddenly moved and he found himself looking up into deep dark green eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, groaning into the soft but heated kiss that claimed his mouth.
"I should be thanking you, geek boy," Dean chuckled, but his worry was clear. His fingers brushed Sam's bangs back so he could see his eyes; he was happy to see that his entire face was lax with pleasure, a sleepy smile playing there for the first time in weeks. "Thank you, Sammy," he whispered with a soft kiss to the corner of his of his mouth. "You okay?"
He was emotionally and physically exhausted, but Sam slowly nodded, lids heavy with exhaustion. He tried to keep Dean on the bed when his brother slipped off just long enough to grab a cloth to wipe Sam clean and reach for his jeans, but he settled on a pair of sleep pants for the both of them.
"I'm…better," Sam admitted with a tired yawn, smiling more as he was gathered into strong warm arms to sleep like Dean had always done since they started this. He knew better to mention to his anti-cuddling sibling that they were in fact cuddling. "I'll keep getting better too. I…I want you to do it next time."
"Sammy?" Dean wanted that so much; he wanted to show Sam that he could still have love made to him without the pain, but he wasn't sure if Sam was ready yet.
"No…if I can do this, then I know I'm ready to have your cock in my ass again…kind of looking forward to it actually." Sam yawned again, fingers reaching for and finding his brother's amulet to hold onto as he drifted off to sleep. "Promise we'll try?"
Dean hated making Sam promises, but he slowly sighed and nodded. He was glad he'd moved them to the other bed in the room, and he pulled the blanket up over them, smiling more as he felt Sam move closer his side, just like he'd done as a kid when they'd always shared a bed.
"Yeah, we will." They would…after he was certain Sam could handle it. He slowly relaxed, lying still to listen to his brother's breathing even off. He couldn't help smiling as he watched Sam fall asleep fully relaxed for the first time since it happened; he had a smile on his face and no signs of stress on his face. "Love you, Sammy," he whispered softly, hearing the mumbled reply and closing his eyes.
He'd tell Sam about that possible case he found tomorrow or the next day. There was no hurry now that he knew Sam was recovering. They start with an easy hunt and take things from there. His brother might never fully forget this nightmare, but at least he was on the road to recovering from it.
The End