There was that sound again, muffled and low, but definitely there. I sat up and looked over at
Dean's bed. This was the second night that Dean had, had nightmares even though according
to him, it was a swimsuit model taking him for a ride. Me, being the expert on nightmares, I know he's
lying through his teeth. Now just getting him to admit to it, yea right like that's going to happen.
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We had left Kansas just as soon as we had Jennie and the kids calmed down. We dropped Missouri
off on our way out of town and then hit the road. Dean wanted to put as many miles between us and
our old house as humanly possible in the shortest amount of time. I didn't even try to get him to
talk about it, not only was I not stupid enough to think that he would, especially this soon after, but I was
still reeling from seeing my mother walk out of a ball of fire. I couldn't even wrap my mind around seeing
her ... well really for the first time that I would remember... and I knew that there was no way that
Dean was even remotely dealing with it. He was trying to find a way to bury it where it couldn't hurt him.
His hands were clenched around the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. I wouldn't be
surprised that when he let go, there would be dents in it where he held it so tight. I sat looking out of the
window, trying process everything that had happened. I had so many questions and I knew I wasn't going
to be getting any answers. I kept glancing over at Dean, his jaw was clenched and he was looking straight
ahead even though I knew that he could feel me watching him, worrying about him.
Twelve hours and a couple of states later we finally pulled over at a motel in the middle of nowhere. Dean
got out and went inside to get a room, he still had not said anything since we dropped Missouri off. He had
asked me if I was alright, checked on all the cuts and abrasions plus the lovely string of bruises I now
sported around my neck and then refused to let me check his injuries. The biggest tell to his emotions besides the no
talking was that he hadn't even turned on his music, so for twelve hours minus the few that I slept, we had
ridden in complete silence, something that on many occasions I had prayed and even begged for. I never
wanted it to be at the expense of Dean's emotional trauma though.
That first night I woke to Dean's twisting and turning in the bed. His brow was creased and he was mumbling in his sleep.
I sat for a minute waiting to see if he would settle, when I noticed that his cheeks were wet, it nearly broke me to see
him suffer and know that not only would he not want me to see it, but he wouldn't accept my help either. He always
saw any need for natural human compassion as a weakness, one he couldn't afford and later one I learned that he
didn't think he deserved. I got up, put my hand on his shoulder and said his name just loud enough to penetrate
his sleep fogged brain.
"Sammy, you okay?" he asked.
"Yea, Dean were you having a bad dream?"
"Nah, but that swimsuit model was taking me for a ride though."
I sat back on my bed and just watched him turn back over and slide back into sleep. I wanted to give him the same
comfort and love he always gives me when I'm hurt or my nightmares are ripping me apart, but he won't and I don't know
how to get past his defenses.
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I lay listening to Dean caught in the throes of what had to be another nightmare, watching as he tossed and turned.
That was it; I had watched him suffer all I was going to. I crawled out of my bed and moved to Dean's. Looking down at him
I only hesitated for a second before I pulled back his covers and crawled in behind him.
"Sammy? Watcha doing?" he mumbled.
"Making sure that swimsuit model doesn't buck you off." I whispered back.
I wrapped my arm around his waist and held my breath. He laid there for a couple of minutes, so stiff I thought he was going
to lock his joints. Finally, I felt him slowly relax and lean back into my warmth. Whether he was just giving me what I wanted
or he thought he was helping me through my own pain, I really didn't give a damn as long as he let me stay and watch over him
while he slept. His breathing steadied and soon became deep and even. I continued to watch him sleep for what seemed like hours
just marveling at the fact that I was able to give him this small piece of comfort, that after everything he still trusted me to do it. I finally
fell asleep listening to his breaths, feeling his heartbeat under my hand.
Waking to find something you have wanted for as long as you can remember and never thinking you could have it, can be a heady and
scary proposition. When I woke to find Dean still sleeping, head on my chest, arm flung across my waist and his legs tangled with mine;
I think my heart stopped. I didn't take a breath for fear that it was a dream or that I would wake him and it would all be over too soon.
I have always loved my brother, but from the time I was fifteen I realized it was more than just brotherly love. I slowly ran my fingers through
his hair, hoping against hope that he wouldn't wake.
His body pressed into mine seeking warmth and comfort in his sleep. I lay there just
soaking up the feelings that I had never experienced with another human being, not even Jess. I carefully ran my hand up and down Dean's back,
glorying in the feel of smooth satin skin under my palm. He shifted in his sleep pulling me closer and mumbling something I couldn't quite catch.
I stilled for just a second, holding my breath again as he settled. I went back to my thoughts, as I caressed his skin and hair. It wasn't long after
that I felt his breathing change and his body stiffen and still under my hands and all I my mind could shout was, too soon, not enough time.
"Sam?"
"Yea Dean?"
I could tell he was confused. I had made the decision that I wasn't going to sit back and wait anymore for what I wanted, or more to the point needed.
I had been setting things in motion for months. I would linger closer than normal when getting things, leaving my hand on his shoulder longer than
needed, brush past him when I could have just walked around. We went to a bar one night and although Dean thought I had to much to drink
I really hadn't. When we went back to the motel he started, as usual, giving me hell about not being able to hold my alcohol, when I decided,
the only way to shut him up was to kiss him. I leaned forward, snaked my hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. He was so shocked he
responded before he realized what he was doing. Then of course everything went to hell, he wrote it off to me being drunk. I, however, learned that he most
definitely had some of the same feelings for me that I had for him.
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I continued to run my hand up and down his back while I waited to see what his reaction would be. I could tell he was having an internal monologue and
quite frankly I wasn't willing to see what the outcome was. I reached up and put my finger under his chin and lifted his head so I could see his face.
I could see fear and uncertainty but I could also see the want and need. I leaned forward and touch my lips to his, just barely a brush, then I moved back
and looked into his eyes. Those eyes that tell me everything and it was all there, his trust and the unquestionable love. I leaned forward again this time
with much more demand and he met me halfway. It was soft and gentle, and so much more than I had ever imagined.
As we continued to kiss I move till I am leaning over Dean, my hands buried in his hair keeping his mouth aligned to mine till we have to break for air.
Even then I continue to rain kisses on his eyelids his forehead and his nose. My tongue flicking out to taste each of his freckles only to return to his
mouth, to taste the moans that he is making. His fingernails ran lightly up and down my back and into my hair, pulling my head back so that he can
leave kisses up and down the column of my throat, stopping long enough suck and bite, marking me as his. He ran his hands down my back and under
the waistband of my boxers, stopping to cup
my ass in his hands, kneading and caressing. I quickly got rid of everything that was standing between us and total contact, moans ripped from our throats at the
perfect feel of skin on skin. I kissed my way down Dean's body, paying close attention to his nipples, watching him as I sucked the first into my
mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive bud while I rolled the other between my fingers, then doing the same to its twin.
His back arching and his head flung
back into the pillows was almost enough to make me loose it. I give his navel special attention as I move lower flicking my tongue in and out, laving around
the edges and then dipping in again, all the while listening to him call my name over and over in that husky voice that sends shivers up and down my spine.
When I trail my tongue from his navel to the spot where his hip meets his leg, he buried his fingers in my hair alternating kneading to softly pulling, the pressure
driving me crazy. I dipped closer to his cock, my breath washed across the tip and his hips bucked up trying to make contact, to find that friction that he needs.
I looked up and waited for him to catch my eye before I lowered my mouth to take him all the way in, the head of his cock brushing the back of my throat. His hoarse scream
of my name almost sent me over the edge as I continued to suck, and lick my way up and down his hard shaft.
His hips started a constant rhythm as he fucked my mouth, making me moan around his cock. I loved the feel of his hot flesh in my mouth,
the taste of him and his scent driving spikes of lust through my brain.
I lifted my fingers to his lips and he took them in and made love to them, sucking, licking and laving
them so I could prepare him. I slipped my fingers down to his entrance and slowly pushed one finger in, his hips stuttered in mid thrust but quickly catch the rhythm again.
He continues to move inside my mouth as I quickly added a second and third finger, stretching him gently, making him ready. His hips pushed down onto my fingers
and then up into my mouth rocking between pleasures. My senses were on complete overload as I continued to rub my fingers across his prostate as I pumped them in and out.
He stiffened and came, pumping into my mouth as my throat worked around his cock to milk everything he has, as he moaned my name again
and again. I moved up his body licking and biting until we were face to face. His eyes were glazed, pupils blown, complete control surrendered to everything that
was happening between us, just blew me away as he threaded his fingers in my hair and pulled me down into a mind numbing kiss.
I entered him slowly, my cock stretched him, filled him. I kept pushing forward until I was completely seated inside, leaning down kissing him until we
we're breathless. I leaned back pulled his legs up higher and shifted my hips till I hit his prostate, causing a litany of curses as his breath hitched
on each thrust. I slowly pushed in and out that tight, clinging heat, gritting my teeth against the need to come. I watched as my cock disappeared into my brother's
body while I pushed forward and pulled out over and over again, as I slid my hand up and down his cock in time to the rhythm of my thrusts. Listening to him scream my
name again as he exploded all over my hand and our stomachs, sent me over the edge with him. My rhythm was lost, erratic till I poured myself nto him, yelling his name
I pulled him close to me as our breathing leveled out and our bodies cooled.
As we slid into sleep I realized that I had finally come home.
