"I don't understand what the problem is, Dean? It was just sex. I wasn't planning on having a relationship with her. She was pretty and I needed to take the edge off." Sam said, pulling a t-shirt over his head.
"You don't understand… Sam, we're together. You don't just sleep around with anyone cause you want to take the edge off." Dean replied, trying his best to keep his voice steady.
He thought that he was doing a pretty good damn job too, controlling his anger having just walked in on his brother fucking the same pretty blonde that had been their waitress at the diner down the street that they went too for dinner.
"Well, I didn't realize that we were exclusive. I thought that you would be okay with this, Dean. You slept around with plenty of women before while we were together. How is this any different?"
"Because we weren't together together. That was back when we were fucking around because it was something to do. Sam, I haven't slept with anyone since you and I have… since we've been…" He couldn't find the word that he was looking for.
"Since we decided to be something more than just fuck mates. Yeah, well Dean, you haven't really been offering anything and like I said, I just needed the edge taken off."
Dean ran a hand across his face and through his hair, taking a deep breath before standing up from his chair and grabbing his jacket, pulling it over his shoulders.
"Where are you going, Dean?" Sam asked, watching his brother walk towards the door, keys in his hand.
"I don't know, Sam. I just… I just need to get some air."
"Aw, don't be so dramatic, Dean. I'm sorry, alright. Is that what you want to hear? That I regret sleeping with her? Alright, I regret it. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Dean's hand hovered over the door knob. "Don't flatter yourself, Sam. I don't get my feelings hurt that easily." His fingers wrapped around the knob. "And Sam, don't say shit you don't actually mean. Doesn't make sense to waste your breath like that."
The door closed behind him with a bang that seemed to echo through the night. Dean climbed behind the wheel, taking a moment before he drove off. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to take just a moment.
Sam might have been right. They hadn't had sex in awhile, not since they discovered that Sam was missing his soul but it wasn't like Dean was just avoiding Sam either. In between taking jobs and trying to figure out just how they were going to retrieve Sam's soul, there hadn't been time.
Of course that was a thin excuse. They always managed to find time. A gas station quickie or some road head but still if Sam had just asked, Dean wouldn't have said no.
At least Dean doesn't think so.
Sam wasn't himself and the fact that he wasn't bothered by the fact that he decided to have sex with someone that wasn't Dean proved just how much Sam wasn't himself.
Sam was always loyal. He was loyal to a fault and he would have never even thought about sleeping with someone else but now… Dean shook his head, trying to physically clear those thoughts and started up the car.
He needed a drink. A strong one. Well… he needed more than one.
The bar wasn't packed, the evening crowd having already left and when Dean looked down at his watch he realized that it was quite late but fuck… he needed to be alone without Sam's presence in the room cause even soulless and even though he slept with someone else, Dean still cared for that asshole. Buried underneath all that macho terminator crap, he was still Sam. He was still the doe-eyed, shaggy haired boy that Dean fell in love with.
The bartender was smoking hot, the kinda girl that Dean would have loved to take home and pound into the mattress and he was seriously considering asking her when her shift was over, maybe do a quick one in the bathroom and go back to Sam reeking of sex and have red lipstick stains down his neck but that was petty and frankly, Dean wasn't sure that Sam would even care.
He would see it as fair, had it coming and it wouldn't even bother him. He would look at Dean, make some comment about him no longer being a prude and then continue on talking about the case as if nothing happened and that would only infuriate Dean more.
He wanted Sam back. His Sam.
The bartender seemed to be into him, leaving flirty looks and touching the back of his hand that was resting on top of the bar top whenever she could, which maybe it even harder to just leave her there.
But if he did do something, he would hate himself for it. Dean Winchester was many things. A liar. A thief. A killer when it was called for but Dean Winchester wasn't a disloyal man.
Sam was his and he belonged to Sam.
Much to the girl's dismay, he called it a night soon before closing time and he didn't leave his number. Instead he stumbled back to his car and managed to unlock it on his first try.
He did his best to drive in a straight line, stayed under the speed limit and got back to the motel without swerving too much.
Sam was still up but frankly that didn't surprise him. The kid never slept anymore. There were more mornings than not that Dean would wake up and find Sam sitting in one of the hard motel chairs, staring at him like some damn creepier or something. Always freaked him out but he didn't say anything.
Sam tended to speak his mind now and whenever Dean would mention something about Sam's ever constant psycho tendencies, Sam would say that Dean was sensitive or something like that and that he should just suck it up. It wasn't like Sam was planning his murder or something. Cause that comment really eased his nerves.
But Sam was still up, sitting in that damn chair, looking as if he hadn't moved a muscle since Dean left.
Dean didn't say anything to Sam cause frankly it was still a little too soon. It still hurt. Sam was just sitting there like it wasn't a fucking big deal. And here he thought that everything was going to be okay, that he was fine with the fact that Sam fucked that perky little blonde without a second thought but seeing him like that, practically glowing, pissed him off.
He seemed to have left his center of balance somewhere in that bar. After he shed out of his jacket, he leaned over to untie his shoes and he nearly fell forward but the only thing that kept him from tasting the off colored carpet, was the pair of iron claws that dug into his arms and pulled him back up.
Dean pushed Sam off of him, hitting him hard in the chest. "Get the fuck off of me, man."
"Dean…" Sam just sounded annoyed. "I told you that I was sorry."
"No, no you didn't, Sam. You just said what you thought what I wanted to hear. Already told you, don't say shit that you don't fucking mean." He toed off his shoe, holding onto the tv stand that the tv was resting on for support.
"I meant it, Dean. Honestly, I'm sorry."
Dean scoffed, looking up at Sam who looked so goddamn innocent with his eyes wide with concern as his hands were still held out like he was waiting for Dean to topple back over and he was going to be there to catch him.
"Sure as hell didn't sound like it when you were fucking her on my bed." Dean pushed off the stand to walk to the bathroom and stumbled, just a little bit, and Sam reached forward, grabbing Dean's elbow, holding him.
And instead of Dean just pushing Sam off of him, Dean suddenly seemed to sober up, or at least just a little bit, and pushed Sam right up against the wall, his forearm pressed up against his throat.
"I told you not to fucking touch me, Sam." Dean growled.
"Dean, I understand you're mad. Just calm down. You're drunk. Let me help you get into bed." He sounded so calm.
"Mad doesn't even begin to cover it, Sam! I've never once betrayed you like that. You and I… we're together, soul or no soul, we're together and I thought that meant something. I thought that I was enough for you." Dean's voice cracked at the end of that despite the fact that he hated it.
"You really think that that's what this is about? That you're not enough for me?" Sam cocked his head just a fraction of an inch. "Dean, of course you're enough for me. Always have been it's just… you haven't touched me since you've found out that I didn't have my soul. Your hand can only do so much and I don't know… Dean, I miss you." Dean shuddered at how human Sam sounded there, so much like himself. So much like he had his soul back.
And it only pissed Dean off more.
"Don't make me pity you, Sam. If you wanted sex all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to find some girl. Did you even know her name?"
Sam remained silent and that hurt. She was just a mindless fuck.
"So what do you want, Dean? You want to punch me? Go ahead. I deserve it. You want to leave? Go. The doors right there. I won't stop you. Or are you going to fuck me? Punish me for what I did?" There was a light that seemed to sparkle in his eyes.
And frankly, the idea didn't sound too bad. Take out all of his frustration on Sam. Show Sam how much it hurt to see him balls deep inside of another girl.
Dean took a half step back, his hand on Sam's shoulder as he pushed Sam down to his knees. Sam looked up at him through the bangs that had fallen in his face and licked his lips, waiting.
"Suck." Dean demanded.
Sam looks up at Dean one last time before his fingers goes to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it free. He unbuttons the button, his fingers now digging into Dean's hips hard enough that Dean's sure that there's gonna be marks in the morning.
Sam leans forward, mouth open as he mouths at Dean's cock through his jeans feeling him hardened through the denim. Sam chuckles at that, at how ready Dean is for him, no matter what.
"Sam…" Dean says in a warning tone, telling Sam without so many words to stop the teasing.
Sam pulls away just far enough to pull down the zipper with his teeth, always wanting it to look pretty and fuck, Dean groaned, watching him.
It takes seconds for Sam to pull down his jeans and boxers and for Dean to step out of them. Sam wraps his lips around the head of his cock, licking at the tip, one of his hands at the base of it, holding him. Sam pulls off, keeping eye contact with Dean (because he loves that shit. He might be soulless but he didn't forget what Dean likes) and licks a broad stripe all the way from the base of his cock to the tip before taking him in his mouth again.
"Fuck Sam…" Dean muttered, one hand pressed up against the wall and the other wrapped so tight in Sam's hair. Sam swallows him, taking Dean as far down his throat as he can manage.
Dean can't help himself. Sam's mouth feels so good and it's been so long and he thrusts forward into Sam's mouth. Sam relaxes his jaw, letting Dean take control. Dean can't look away from the mess that he's creating underneath him. Sam's got spit dripping from his chin and the sounds coming from Sam's mouth pushes Dean closer to the edge sooner than he cared to admit.
"You're so fucking good at this, Sammy." Dean moans so clearly out of it as Sam wraps his hand tighter around the base of his cock.
Dean continues to fuck into Sam's mouth, fingers wrapped in Sam's hair and it's sooner rather than later that he comes, his head banging against the wall as he falls forward, still holding onto Sam's hair.
Sam pulls off with a wet pop, looking up at Dean with lust blown eyes and Dean traces a hand down Sam's face, his thumb wiping along the corner of Sam's lips, pushing the spit and come back into his mouth. Sam sucks on his thumb, long and hard.
"Swallow it all, Sammy. Be a good boy."
And Sam always was a good boy, always wanting to please and he licks his red, swollen lips before wrapping them back around Dean's cock, swallowing everything that Dean had to offer.
"Always such a fucking cockslut, Sammy," Dean mutters as he pulls Sam back up to his feet, kissing him, hard and hungry.
Sam moans and Dean runs his hands up Sam's chest, underneath his shirt, yanking it up over his head. Sam helps Dean get rid of his shirt, dropping it to the ground and Dean pulled Sam off the wall, tossing him down on the bed.
Dean reached under his brother, undoing his jeans and yanking them down his legs along with his underwear.
Dean slapped his ass before pulling Sam open and Sam pushed back into Dean with a needy plead.
"You were expecting this weren't you, Sammy? Wanted me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are." Dean muttered kissing down Sam's back as he pushed his fingers inside of Sam and Sam groaned. "Good thing too cause I'm not really in the mood to make this good for you."
Sam withered on the bed underneath Dean desperate for more as Dean pulled his fingers free and thrust his still wet cock deep into Sam.
Sam shouted out, fingers digging into the comforter at the feeling of Dean filling him so full, the stretch so close to painful from being almost too much too soon and not enough prep. Dean waited, for just a moment, for Sam to relax just a bit, to adjust to Dean before pulling nearly all the way out, the head of his cock catching on Sam's rim before thrusting back in with enough force to knock the wind out of Sam.
"You know, I shouldn't even let you come. I should use you and just leave you here, hard and aching for what you did to me. You deserve that, Sammy." Dean growled into Sam's ear as he draped his body along Sam's.
Dean buried his fingers into Sam's hair, yanking Sam's head back and kissed him as his other hand wrapped around the base of Sam's cock, squeezing hard.
Sam moaned when Dean pulled out again, pushing back in, hitting that spot inside Sam that always reduced Sam to nothing more than breathless moans.
"Fuck, Sammy…" Dean groaned, his mouth wet and hot against the back of Sam's neck, continuing to thrust into Sam, his hips were hard and relentless against him. "You feel so good. So fucking tight."
"Dean, come on, man, please…" Sam moaned, begging.
"Whatcha want, Sam? You wanna come. Did you not already do that tonight? Did you not already come inside that girl? You really think that you've been good enough to come again?" Dean bit down onto Sam's shoulder.
"Dean, I told you. I'm…"
"Sorry. Yeah, you might have mentioned that." Sam bucked up against Dean. Dean ran his hand up and down Sam's cock and Sam moaned out. "Alright then, Sammy. Go ahead, make a mess of yourself."
Sam bucked back up against Dean a couple of times, pushing his ass closer to Dean's hips and all it took was a couple more dirty promises made by Dean and Sam was coming, grunting out Dean's name.
Dean grabbed Sam's hips, pulling him up, an arm wrapped around his waist and the new angle was all it took to drive Dean towards his own release. He bit down on the back of Sam's neck, nails digging into his skin as he came inside his brother.
Sam laid pinned underneath Dean trying to catch his breath and Dean laid on top of him, his heart beating frantically out of his chest as he tried to calm himself.
Several long minutes passed before Dean jerked himself up, muttering a curse word under his breath and carefully pulled out of Sam, trying not to hurt him… at least not anymore.
"Fuck, Sammy…" Dean muttered as he back away, standing at the foot of the bed looking at the spread out form of his brother, really looking at him, seeing the reddened marks on his hips and the bite marks on the back of his neck and shoulder that were deep enough to break the skin.
Sam propped himself up on his elbows, turning his head to look at Dean who had disappeared into the bathroom only to emerge a second later with a towel in his hand and a frown on his face. Sam might have been soulless and a jackass at that, but no one deserved to be fucked the way he was. Hard, fast and bare.
"Sam, I'm… I'm so sorry." All the anger that was once held in his body about Sam sleeping with someone else seemed to have all disappeared, replaced with only concern. "I didn't…"
"Dean?" Sam questioned, twisting his body so he could see Dean who was now kneeling behind him, cleaning him up. "Dean, what are you talking about?"
"Just… Sam, I'm sorry." Dean muttered, seeming to have not heard Sam's question.
Sam moved, rolling over, much to Dean's protest and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, stopping him. "Dean, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Sam. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." Dean looked up at Sam, green eyes shining with tears that were about to fall.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked as he grabbed Dean's face, holding him between his hands, confused as hell as to why his brother was apologizing and was about to cry.
He didn't understand why Dean looked so fucking… broken after they had what Sam would classify as easily the best sex that he's ever had and that's saying a lot because Dean was always good in bed.
"I hurt you," Dean replied. "I…I forced you…"
"Forced me!" Sam scoffed. "Dean, I'm the one that told you to fuck me! And you don't think that I couldn't have gotten away if I didn't like it? Dean, I could have easily overcome you, gotten you to stop." Dean glanced off to the side for a moment before looking back at Sam but not quite meeting his gaze. "Dean, I liked it. Alright? And besides, I deserved to be punished. I shouldn't have slept with anyone no matter how much of a prude you're being."
"I'm not a prude." Dean muttered, some of the guilt that laced his voice gone as annoyance took it's place.
"Dean, you've been like a virgin in church, keeping your legs crossed."
Dean pushed Sam off of him with a sigh and threw the towel at him. "You know what, Sam, fuck you. You can clean yourself you."
Sam chuckled, reaching out to grab his brother's wrist and pulled him back down to his level. "Dean, seriously, I'm sorry." And he kissed him and this time, Dean believed what Sam was saying.