Pairing: Dean/Sam

Beta: Blackmagic661

Genre: Slash, Romance

Note: Written for the "spn_j2_xmas" LJ, for Shinyslasher. Spoilers for the end of "The mentalists".


Somewhere only we know

Dean and Sam had lost count of how many times they'd fought about something. Granted, the number of times these fights made them trade punches or walk away from each other was low.

But lately this kind of walk away was hurting more and more. Their number of friends was decreasing and they didn't have the luxury of losing each other.

But knowing Dean killed Amy, and worse knowing through that Leviathan and not his real brother, it hurt something fierce. He thought his brother had believed in his judgment, that he was by his side, especially after what happened a week after Amy's case.


Sam was looking at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He could hear Lucifer loud and clear in his head, taunting him with everything under the sun.

The nights were the most difficult. Without Dean's incessant chat and Bobby's grunts, nothing could stop the hell thoughts to creep in.

"Sam?"

Dean's voice echoes like a gunshot in the room. Sam sits on the bed fast, his breath coming in pants. It's no surprise when he feels the bed dip as Dean sits beside him, his hands caressing his back. Sam can feel the worry on the touch.

"I'm fine."

"That's bullshit and you know it Sammy."

The nickname, that only Dean can say with such reverence, is what breaks Sam's resolve. Surprising his brother, Sam hides his face on Dean's neck, trying to regain his composure. He doesn't want to break down in front of his brother, he can't.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, I know Sammy."

Without saying anything else, both brothers laid down again. Dean squeezed closer to Sam and hugged him tight. Sam buried his face even further in his brother's neck.

Slowly Dean caught Sam's face between his hands and gave him a light, chaste kiss on his lips.

The gesture was short, but it shocked Sam just the same. He didn't remember the last time they did this; he didn't even hope they could ever go back to what they had.

"Just sleep Sam."

In his brother's arms, he had the best sleep since the wall came down.


As usual, things pretty much sucked once he was on his own again. If someone said they were co-dependent, it was like saying the sky was blue. Understatement didn't even cover it.

After a lonely and painful week, Sam met with Dean in that strange, psych town. As usual, they exploded at each other. And as usual, that cleared the air so they could move on and work together again.

After they left their last case's town, they drove for hours, the sound of Metallica blasting through the speakers almost comforting.

The sun was dying on the horizon when they spotted a motel and Dean left the highway, stopping in the parking lot. They grabbed their duffels in silence and going to the reception to ask for a room. They entered the place and as they did all their lives, Dean took the bed near the door. Sam dropped his duffel on the bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He closed the door behind him and sighed, his fingers automatically reaching for the scar on his left hand, pressing until it hurt. He stepped from the door and took off his shirt and undershirt, staring at the mirror.

"Sam?"

The younger man almost face planted the sink at the voice. He turned and stared at his brother resting against the now opened door, arms crossed.

"Did you want to shower first?"

Dean shook his head, closing the door behind him, he approached, catching Sam's scarred hand. Sam winced with the slight pain he always felt when touching the wound, but it served to shut up all the voices in his head. Dean arched his eyebrow.

"Still hearing the son of a bitch?"

They didn't need to even say his name. Sam smiled faintly.

"Not now."

Dean frowned for a few seconds before a look settled on his face, like he reached a decision about something. Dean closed the distance and touched his brother's cheek. Sam sighed shakily.

"I missed you Sammy."

"Dean?"

Dean took his hand off Sam's cheek, but before he could go further away, Sam grabbed his wrist. The older man looked at him warily.

"Sam?"

"Do you think that maybe...one day..." Sam took a deep breath, trying not to stutter. "We will be together again?"

And from the tiny flinch Dean gave, Sam knew his brother knew what he was talking about. He let go of Dean's wrist, defeated.

"Never mind."

It was foolish of him to think that his brother would want anything like that after the way things ended. Even with that barely there kiss a few weeks ago, how he could think...

His thinking came to a full stop when he felt a pair of very familiar lips connecting with his. He didn't have the time to moan or anything because Dean pushed him against the bathroom counter and his mind shut down any rational thoughts for good.

"Dean..." came the weak moan as Sam grabbed his brother's back, trying to bring him closer.

His brother finished the kiss slowly and looked at him, like cataloguing every mole and expression on his face. Sam felt his face heat up; nobody else in the world had the ability to make him blush like Dean had.

"What?"

Dean smiled a little.

"You look different."

"What are you talking about?"

The older brother shrugged, finally looking away.

"Since last time…"

Right. It's been a long time since they were together like that, since before the whole apocalypse business. Fuck, since before Dean went to hell.

"Hey, I don't believe I'm gonna say this, but stop thinking so much about it." whispered Dean, his lips leaving hot puffs of air against his neck as those hands travelled his bare chest.

Sam tried to talk; to reassure himself that they would be back for good, but all his words died on his tongue when he felt his brother's teeth biting where his shoulder met his neck, tearing a gasp from him.

"Fuck Dean..."

"That's better." said Dean and Sam could feel the smirk on his skin.

Sam tried to retort when those quick finger started to unbutton his jeans and he just decided to forget anything else and undress Dean as well.

Slowly Dean maneuvered Sam to the shower, pressing kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. He helped Sam step out of his jeans and boxers as he did the same. He stepped back and caught the hem of his shirt.

"Turn on the shower Sammy."

The younger one complied, licking his lips as he saw Dean discarding his shirt and undershirt so he could be naked like him. He turned then, turning on the water, letting run hot, like they both enjoyed.

Dean pushed him under the spray and soon Sam's back was pressed against the cold tiles, Dean pressing against him, kissing his breath away. Sam's hands got curious again and he let himself explore Dean's body, every inch, every scar that he didn't see for the last four years. He had to touch everything, feel that the only thing anchoring him to sanity was more real than ever.

Slowly Dean drew himself back and smiled faintly at his little brother as he caught the complimentary shampoo from the small shelf and poured on his hand.

"Turn around."

The soft request almost made Sam sob. He turned and rested both hands on the tiles, moaning low when he felt Dean's hands caressing and washing his hair, that hard compacted body glued to his back. Sam could feel Dean's semi-hard cock sliding against his ass as Dean finished cleaning his hair. Soon he directed him under the spray and after the suds were washed away, Dean turned him around once more, bar of soap in hand.

"Now for the fun part."

Sam laughed at that, not resisting and capturing Dean's lips in an enthusiastic kiss. The older man answered with equal passion as his hands started cleaning every inch of that big body. By the time he reached Sam's cock, he was already fully hard and panting.

When Dean closed his hand around his cock, Sam cried out at the touch. His knees almost buckled with the sensations, but the wall and Dean's hard body supported him.

And then those lips were against his neck again. And Sam happily complied.

The first thing he learned when they started this, back when dad's death was the worst thing they've been through. (and wasn't that ironic), was that Dean loved kissing. After their first kiss, that quickly escalated to a heavy and hot make-out session, after both of them freaked out on their own terms and after they decided to give a try to all of this, kissing was Dean's favorite past time. Even when they were fucking (and Jesus, Dean was a nymphomaniac), Sam's mouth would sting and be numb with how much Dean would kiss, bite and suck.

"Where did you go?"

Sam moaned quietly at the question, feeling Dean's hand stroke his cock roughly.

"I love how you like to kiss me..." blurted the young man, his hands grabbing that sinuous back and squeezing. Dean chuckled.

"Got a thing for my mouth?" whispered Dean, punctuating with his thumb sliding along the dick in his hand.

Sam smiled.

"Not only your mouth…"

Dean chuckled and ended the conversation with a deep, passionate kiss. Sam grabbed his ass and brought him even closer, Dean's hand crushed between them. Dean used his other hand to grab Sam's wet hair, hard, and direct the kiss as he saw fit, their head moving with a synchrony born of years of living in each other's pockets.

Dean let go of Sam's dick and used his now free hand to grab one of his brother's cheeks, the action making both of their cocks smash together. Their moans echoed around the tiled bathroom as their grinding turned frantic. They could barely kiss as their breath grew elaborated, but they were giving their best shot. Until Dean's hand sneaked between Sam's cheeks, his fingers caressing his hole. Sam moaned louder, buckling and squeezing Dean's ass in return.

"Yes…"

"It's been….a long time…" panted Dean against his brother's mouth, his fingers pressuring against the sensitive muscle.

"Don't care…" whimpered Sam, their whole body contact making all the voices in his head shut up for once.

Dean growled and let go of Sam's hair to pick up the complimentary soap, lathering his fingers. He then proceeded to crush his brother once more up against the tiles, giving enough space for his fingers to penetrate Sam, with passion. He swallowed his little brother's whimpers and started to fingerfuck him as the grind of their cocks began again.

"Fuck Dean…"

"I'll stretch you here and after we both come, we'll go to bed…" Dean bit Sam's bottom lip and smirked when his brother cried out at having his prostate touched "I'll fuck you into the mattress. Sound like a plan?"

Jesus Fucking Christ, the mouth Dean had sometimes could drive Sam crazy. He just nodded and deciding that his brother couldn't have the upper hand, his long finger circled Dean's cock, squeezing.

"Can't wait to have that inside me again."

He almost laughed when Dean almost came at the confession, his fingers fucking his ass roughly. He liked, he loved having Dean lose control and know it was because of him. His laugh turned into a grunt when Dean paid back by adding a third finger inside him.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

And if Sam's reply was almost choked, Dean didn't notice or didn't care to comment. They were too busy reaching their peak anyway.


The sun had almost risen when Sam cried out on his third orgasm, humping the mattress, his body twitching when he felt Dean coming inside him again. They both slumped on the bed, breathing with difficulty. Dean pulled out slowly and rolled, lying beside him. The bed could barely fit both of them, but they made it work. They'd had worse conditions.

Dean smiled with his eyes closed as he felt Sam moving and slowly kissing his chest, letting a little sigh as those lips closed around a nipple, sucking only to tease, letting go seconds later. Sam rested his head on his brother's chest and closed his eyes. He felt Dean catch his scarred hand and squeeze. In reassurance and to prove he still was here, in the real world, with him.

"Where to next?" asked Sam with a low voice, not wanting to break that perfect moment.

Dean hummed sleepily, the tip of his fingers sliding through the scar on Sam's hand.

"I was thinking about Vegas. Our annual trip."

Sam smiled against the chest and nodded, his head so silent that he could feel sleep claiming his senses.

"It's settled then."

It was the last thing Sam heard before falling asleep.

Dean lay with his eyes still open for a little while, feeling Sam's deep breath against his skin. For the first in what felt a really long time, Dean let himself smile. As long as he had Sam with him, everything else could wait. Would wait.

END