"Ahhh!," Sam wakes up, screaming.

Dean sits straight up, instantly awake, brandishing the pistol pulled from under his pillow. Looking around, he lowers the weapon and turns to Sam. "What?'" he asks.

Sam, looking a bit sheepish, replies, "Just a bad dream."

Dean quirks an eyebrow, "Dream? Or vision?"

"Dream."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Dean, there were pink bunny rabbits with fangs," Sam answers.

"Uh... fangs? Now that just brings up other questions."

"Let it go man."

"Fine." Dean yawns, replaces his weapon and lies back down.

Turning, Sam wraps his arms around Dean and nuzzles into his chest. "Keep me safe," he asks, drowsily.

"From the pink bunnies? Always," Dean answers.

Sam, ignoring him, says, "Thanks."

Dean mumbles and begins snoring softly.

Sam smiles, uncurls, and fetches his laptop, reading quietly as Dean snores on.

A few hours later, Sam, still reading, feels Dean stir and wrap his arm around him, while using the other to close the lid. Sam turns towards him and is greeted by Dean's lips pressing against his. Sam sinks into the kiss, then says, "I was reading that."

Dean nods. "I know, that's why I closed it."

Sam sighs. "I take it you wanted my attention?"

Dean grins. "Not really. Just your body."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam picks up the laptop and carefully places it on the floor. He then rolls back over and pins Dean to the bed. "If you want me, you'll have to fight me for it."

Dean's eyes twinkle, "You haven't beaten me in a wrestling match since you were 12 - and that was only because I had the flu."

"If that's what you have to tell yourself, fine. Besides, most of the time I LET you win. You always felt bad about it and gave me candy," Sam grins.

Dean mutters curses under his breath, while attempting to push Sam off of him. Finally, he sighs and just tickles Sam's ribs.

Sam starts giggling, "No... Fair!" He flops onto his back, curling into a ball, trying to fend Dean off. "It... Doesn't... Count... If... You... Tickle... Me."

Dean grins, "Says who?"

Sam begins swatting Dean's hands as he reaches towards him. Dean grabs Sam's arms, pins them to the bed, then sits on his chest. "I win."

Sam huffs, "Yeah, by cheating."

Dean shrugs. "Still won. The ends justify the means."

Sam manages to wriggle one arm free, grab a pillow, and smacks Dean across the head with it. Surprised, Dean momentarily loosens his grip. That moment is enough for Sam to break free, which leaves both Winchester boys on their knees facing each other.

Dean pouts, "That wasn't very nice."

Sam shrugs, answering, "I wasn't really trying to be, you know."

Dean looks at him innocently, "Are you trying to say you don't want me to have you body pressed against mine?"

Sam, suspicious, watches Dean closely. "I didn't say that exactly..."

"Then why not let your guard down?"

Sam leans forward, pulls Dean to him, and kisses him deeply. Dean tightens his hold around Sam, digging his nails into his back. Sam presses back as he forces Dean onto his back. Sam leans over him, once again pinning him to the bed, no longer playing. Kissing deeply, Sam bites into Dean's lower lip. Dean reacts by diggins his nails deeper into Sam, beginning to draw blood. Sam, in reaction, bites down harder on Dean's lip, causing him to pull back slightly in pain.

Sam shifts slightly, causing Dean to move his hands, trailing a slight layer of blood down his sides. Dean smiles, then forces Sam onto his stomach, straddling him and licking the wounds on his back greedily. When they begin to dry, Dean digs his fingers into Same's back again. Sam arches his back, tightening the muscles, but doesn't complain. After a few more minutes of this, Sam rolls over, pinning Dean beneath him as he digs his teeth into his shoulder.

Biting sharply, Dean wriggles beneath him, whining softly. Sam pulls back and murmurs, "What? You can give it, but not take it?"

"It hurts," Dean whines.

Sam raises his eyebrows. "Yeah." He shakes his shoulders, indicating his back. "That does too."

Dean lowers his gaze. "Sorry, I just... well, I don't wanna be hurt."

Sam smirks. "So the answer is yes - you can't take it. But you expect me too. That's really not very fair."

Dean watches Sam intently. "You gonna punish me?," he asks, obviously hoping for a yes.

Sam looks back, trying to keep a straight face. "I think I'll have to." He reaches under the bed, feeling along the floor. His hand closes around a sword and, as he raises it Dean's eyes grow large.

"What the -," Dean begins.

"Don't worry," Sam replies, "I won't hurt you. Much."

Sam unsheiths the sword and says, "Pure silver blade." He draws it slowly across Dean's back, touching nothing but hair with the side of the blade. Dean instinctively reacts, pulling his back lower, causing a single drop of blood to ooze out of the wound. Dean whines, large eyes looking up at Sam.

Sam sighs, his resolve slips, and he drops the sword to the floor. He drops his head, licking alongs Dean's back, tracing the contours of

his body with his tongue.

Dean purrs softly, his body going limp under Sam's practiced touch. Sam rolls Dean over and begins nipping his ears, his neck, his nipples, slowly working his way downwards. When he reaches Dean's groin, he slips down to his feet and slowly works his way up. Ankles. Knees. That sensitive flesh of the inner thigh. Dean moans Sams name, his voice edged with need.

Sam smiles, then slowly draws his tongue across Dean's balls. Savoring the moment, he pulls first one, then the other into his mouth, massaging them. Dean reaches down and, with firm hands, places Sam's mouth on his dick, moaning with pleasure. Same nips the skin, softly, gently, enjoying seeing Dean squirm.

Finally, with no warning, he slips the entirety of Dean's dick into his mouth. Dean exhales harshly, moaning Sam's name repeatedly. "Sam, oh God yes, Sam, Sam, Sammy...," he trails off. Sam grins, moving his head in rhythm with Dean's grinding against him.

Dripping with precome, Dean pushes Sam's head away. "I don't want to come yet."

Sam, confused, asks, "Why not?"

"Because I want to feel you inside of me."

"Oh, you will. But not until I'm done," Sam answers, once again lowering his head.

Dean moans, then his world shatters as he pours into Sam's mouth, screaming out his name. Same continues sucking Dean until he feels the softness setting in and Dean relaxing.

"My turn," Sam says, straddling Dean's waist, a certain menace in his eyes.

Dean, his eyes still closed, merely nods and pushes Sam a few inches down.

Sam, his cock quivering with anticipation, pushes Deans cheeks apart. Being almost unbearably slow, he slides himself into Dean. Sam leans down and begins kissing Dean, hardly moving.

Dean wriggles beneath him, forcing Sam to move faster. "I want to feel you pounding me Sammy."

"Sure," Sam answers, "NOW you want it rough."

Dean nods, biting his lower lip. "Please, Sammy. I want it to hurt.

Sam complies quickly, shoving his cock in and out of Dean swiftly. Sam groans, leaning over Dean's chest, screaming incoherently as he comes. Falling limply onto his side, Sam nuzzles into Dean.

Wrapping his legs around Sam's, silent tears leaking down his face, Dean murmurs, "Thank you Sammy."

Sam opens his eyes, stares deeping into Dean's and asks, "How do you feel?"

"Amazing."

"Good." Sam yawns. "You're not sick. And I won."

Dean, grinning wryly, reaches over and hits Sam with a pillow.