Summary: Dean still had a conditioned reflex for honey. Sam is still in love. A little coda to 'American Honey'.
A/N: Someone who read 'American Honey' q.v. said they would have liked another chapter to show how the boys sorted out Dean's little problem with honey and Sam's heartache. So I wrote a little sequel to tie up the ends.
Honey Spooning by frostygossamer
It was a lazy afternoon. Sam was busy on his laptop researching the latest job. Bored Dean was lying on his bed waiting for Sam to get finished, so they could go get a late lunch. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched a hungry Dean rummage in his bag for something, anything, to eat. He found the honey.
"OK", Sam thought. "Leave him to it", reapplying himself to the case in hand.
Dean unscrewed the jar and stood the open container on the bed beside him. He stretched back, head on the pillows, and stuck a finger into the golden goo, then he held it over his mouth and let it drip.
"Mmm", he hummed. "God I love this stuff."
After half an hour Sam looked up from his computer. He'll probably be ready by now.
"Time to make a move", he thought, slapping the laptop lid down with a click. He stood up and stretched his arms behind his head.
"OK, Dean", he said. "Ready to go get food?"
Dean looked up at him, his eyes hooded and unfocused. He had pulled off his overshirt and T-shirt and his jeans' fly was open, the not-sticky hand thrust down inside, soothing his swollen manhood.
Sam picked up the honey jar and set it on the night table. He leaned forward to press his palm on Dean's forehead to check his temperature. As he lifted his hand Dean grabbed it with his sticky hand, knitting his fingers with Sam's and started to lick the stickiness from his fingers and Sam's.
Sam perched on the side of the bed and smiled fondly. It would have been so easy to take advantage of his brother, intoxicated with undirected lust as he was now. But that would be unfair.
"Want me to help you?", he asked.
"Oh God, yes!", Dean gasped, his voice throaty with need, and he pulled Sam's hand into his pants, using both his hands to wrap Sam's fingers around his aching stiffness. He sighed in relief and threw pack his head in grateful submission.
"This is so bad", Sam thought. But it would be more than cruel to pull out now.
He bent his face down close to his brother's and whispered into his perfect ear. "Want me to, Dean?" Dean nodded his head murmuring incoherently.
Sam kissed his ear lightly and stroked him until he was used up, till his taut body relaxed and he melted across the comforter.
Sam stood up and exhaled as Dean curled up like a puppy.
"Get some rest", he said. "I'll go get take-out. If you're still speaking to me when I come back, we can spoon." Dean liked to spoon.
(Later)
Sam took his time and arrived back at their motel room sometime later, bearing make-up food favourites and candy for Dean. He didn't want Dean to feel bad about what had happened earlier, once he had sobered up.
The packages he was carrying were kinda awkward and he struggled to get his room key out of his pants pocket. Admitting defeat, he rapped on the room door.
(Fear)
There was no answer. Sam put down his purchases on the step and retrieved his key. He let himself into the motel room.
The room was empty. He checked in the bathroom. No one there either. Dean had split. Crap!
Sam flopped down on a chair, crushed. Then he noticed a piece of paper lying on the table. He picked it up and started to read.
"Sam, I had to go get some fresh air. I need to think about what happened between us. I took advantage of you and I'm so sorry. I don't expect you can forgive me for the way I behaved. It was unforgivable. I can't believe that I could have treated you like that. My own brother. I feel like a piece of crap. I'm taking the Impala. Dean"
"Holy Hell!", Sam swore. "I was afraid this would happen."
(Fact)
Sam was standing outside the motel room, deep in miserable thought, when the door opened.
Dean opened the door, an unreadable look on his face. "I thought you were coming back to spoon", he said.
"Oh. Right. So we're OK then?", Sam asked, relieved.
"Course we're OK", Dean replied, moving inside to let him in. "I got no complaints."
Dean sat down at the table and cleared it of paperwork with the back of his hand. Sam spread the food cartons out in front of him and sat down opposite.
"Great!", Dean exclaimed, grinning.
They ate in silence for a time, until Sam nervously caught Dean's eye.
"It's fine, Sam", Dean insisted. "I dug it. It was good."
After tipping up all the cartons over his mouth to get the last morsel out, Dean tossed them in the trash, locating the discarded honey jar.
"OK, Sammy", he said, clapping his hands. "Spoon time!"
Sam wondered whether Dean had finally cracked!
(Earlier)
After a short nap, Dean stretched and sat up on his bed. Sam wasn't around.
His thoughts drifted towards the events of earlier this afternoon. "Don't go there", he told himself.
Dean ran his tongue around his lips, they were tacky with dried honey. Standing up he realised they weren't the only things that were tacky. The inside of his pants was sticky and spunky and kinda gross.
He stripped off his jeans and wandered into the bathroom to wash up. He stuck his toothbrush in his mouth and worked up a minty lather. Spit, rinse, spit again. Then he turned on the shower and let it run hot.
As he cleansed himself under the steaming water, Dean closed his eyes and let his mind wander dreamily back to Sam and touching, Sam with his hands, his big strong hands touching, rubbing, squeezing, pulling, pleasing. Damn it, he was getting hard again.
Disturbingly erotic images fluttered through his mind like memories. Sam with his long hot body pressed up against him, his big hands on his butt. Sam with his lips on his neck, his teeth nipping his flesh. Sam with his mouth on his big gun, sucking out his brains. This was so not the way he should have been thinking about his little brother.
Why did he keep daydreaming about Sam in the shower? This was getting to be a habit. He was turning into a pervert. And his poor baby brother all innocent and unaware of his filthy thoughts about him. That was cold.
Dean stepped out of the shower and reached for a fluffy towel. If he'd wanted to make a move on Sam, he should have tried it back when he was a woman. He missed his big chance there!
He went back into the main room and put on some fresh clothes. He sat down on a chair. Suddenly he felt kinda lonely for Sam.
Where the hell is that guy anyways? Did he say something about getting take-out? Shouldn't he be back by now? And what was that crack about spooning. Surely he wasn't serious. Or maybe he was?
"And where'd he put my honey?"
(Later Still)
They had been spooning for a little while, Sam at the back, Dean at the front. After a few minutes Dean began to fidget.
"You got a shotgun in your pocket, or what?", he complained.
Sam coughed and shuffled back, leaving a gap between him and Dean's ass. Dean sighed and rolled onto his back.
"I've gotta tell you somethin'", he said confessionally. "Ever since Ranger-town I've been having these crazy sex dreams."
"Oh", Sam replied, straight-faced.
Dean turned his face towards Sam and stared into his eyes for a moment. Sam fought the impulse to look away.
"About you", Dean finished dramatically.
"Oh", Sam replied again, not knowing what else to say.
"I think that witch Deborah Dane did something to me when she was camping out in my body", Dean reasoned. "I think she's put a curse on me. We may have to track her down and gank her, or I'm never gonna be sane again."
Sam didn't like that idea.
"No, Dean", he said. "Deborah was cool. Really. I'm totally sure of it. I don't think we should talk about offing Deborah. That would be way cold."
Dean sat up and dragged both his hands through his hair.
"Then what am I gonna do, Sam?", he griped. "It's knotting me up inside with guilt every night. It's hard for me to look you in the face in the mornings. I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me."
"Dean", Sam said. "I'm never gonna be uncomfortable around you. I love you, man."
Dean turned round and looked down at his kid brother. Sam was looking up at him with a dreamy look on his face. Something inside him wanted to lean over and plant a kiss on those stupid lips.
He stood up suddenly and shook himself.
"Then how am I gonna get rid of this weirdness, Sam?", he asked.
"Maybe you don't need to get rid of it", Sam replied.
"What do you mean?", Dean asked curiously.
"I mean, maybe there's another way to kill those urges", Sam said.
"Like what?", Dean asked.
"Like giving in to them", Sam replied.
Dean looked shocked. "Sam", he said. "What are you suggesting?"
"Come here, Dean", Sam commanded, reaching a hand towards his brother.
Dean hesitated, but then returned to sit beside Sam on the bed. Sam sat up and took his brother's face in his hands.
"It's OK", he whispered, "You want me. I'm all yours." And he kissed Dean long and slow as Dean hummed with pleasure.
When they separated, Sam looked into Dean's eyes. "You're not afraid to look me in the face now", he pointed out.
Sam leaned back onto the bed, pulling Dean down onto him.
"I'm gonna tell you all about Deborah Dane", he said. "But first I gotta show you something so you'll understand."
Sam's fingers struggled with Dean's zip. Dean placed his hand on Sam's. "Are you sure about this?", he asked.
"Do I look like I'm not sure about this?", Sam said. He grabbed Dean's hand and pressed it to his crotch.
"Do I feel like I'm not sure about this?", he asked. Sam was hard inside his pants.
They wasted no time tearing off each others clothes.
"Crap, dude", Dean chuckled. "You'd think you'd done this before."
Sam looked up, pausing from kissing Dean's chest. "You'd be surprised", he remarked.
"What about the honey?", Dean said after a minute.
"What about it?", Sam asked.
"It's something to do with the honey", Dean replied. "I worked that much out. Go get it."
Sam disentangled himself from Dean's body and retrieved the honey jar.
"Show me", Dean whispered huskily, stretching out under him.
Sam unscrewed the jar and slowly trickled the golden glop down Dean's chest, over his stones and along the length of his naked steel, as Dean held his breath.
Sam licked down from Dean's nipples across his belly and down to his rock hard erection. Breaking off for a second, he pressed his sugary lips against Dean's.
"Hand or mouth?", he hissed provocatively.
"Mouth", Dean gasped. "Oh God, Sammy."
Sam slid Dean's ramrod down deep into his throat, teasing it with his tongue, and sucked him senseless.
They lay still a while enjoying the ebb of his climax.
"God, Sammy", Dean laughed. "I dreamed about this."
"Yeah, I think about it all the time", Sam agreed, swallowing.
Dean looked up at his brother vaguely. "You want me to do that to you?", he asked, brushing Sam's fringe out of his eyes.
Sam leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I want you to fuck me, Dean. Hard."
Dean stared at his baby brother for a moment. "You know this is twisted, right?", he said grinning.
"Everything we do is twisted", Sam replied. Dean had to agree.
The End