The Price Of Happiness

A hand caressed his back, rough fingers sliding across his damp skin and tracing his spine gently. His muscles tensed and then relaxed, he knew those fingers. Kisses were laid on his neck, soft and loving. He knew those full lips too and just for a second he let himself imagine the man they belonged to. The broad shoulders that would envelop him sometimes, not often but enough to fuel his dreams, body- so beautiful, not only because of how it looked but what it represented- a shield for him, his home. Green eyes... the shiver of guilt awoke him from the dream better than any cold water could.

Because the man all of this belonged to didn't want it, to touch and caress him and what a monster he was for not ending this sooner.

"What's up, Sammy?"

The voice was raspy and harsh around the edges and it did wonderful things to his body. He turned around, out of the habit to always seek him and a surprising, after all he had seen it before, shock overtook his body.

Pitch black eyes were staring at him, causing a broken whimper to leave his kiss-swollen mouth. A second later and he was trembling in soundless cries, hiding his tears with his hands.

"What's wrong, baby boy?" tried the voice again. His brother's voice. The cries got louder, the shaking- more violent.

The body beside him moved, hugging him closer, and something shifted deep inside him. Hit a spot that even now, so soon after his release made him see stars.

"Shhh," was whispered in his ear as he was rocked gently back and forth.

It was one of those rare moments in which the body was caring and he had learnt to appreciate them, savor them deep in his mind where he knew they would be never hurt. Even if he knew he had no right. Even if the bruises and the scars were more fitting on a body like his own. On a soul like the one he had.

"Your big brother will make everything all right, yeah?" the voice teased, Dean, Dean, damn it, teased him.

He felt teeth scrapping over his earlobe. Hands were running around his body, deliberately pushing against blue and purple marks and yet his traitorous body could do nothing but shiver in pleasure.

It was everything he had dreamed of. He got to have him. Yes, Dean wasn't nice, but when had he been? He still called him a bitch like he had always done, even if now the word that had whispered 'I'm sorry', 'I'm hurt', 'Cut the touchy-feely crap and get in the car, princess' held a different meaning. They still hunted, different hunt now, but they were the same, weren't they? Monsters and people.

He was lucky, the voice liked to whisper to him from time to time. And he was. He had never thought he would get those things. Everything was a small price to pay. And anyway, pain was a constant in his life, why wouldn't it be in his love, too.

He was only trembling. The body noticed it.

"Ready for another round, Sammy?"

It hadn't been lust driving his body, now it was. He twisted his head to present his lips to Dean, like he knew he liked, eyes squeezed shut. The hand on his hip tightened its grip, a yell disappeared down Dean's throat.

Sam got the hint. It was a game both of them played, Dean because he wanted to and the other- because he had no choice. He knew he would surrender eventually, would be forced to do everything the body wanted him to. Submit to him in every way, give him his heart and then smile when he was made to tear it on his own. It didn't bother him anymore.

What hurt the most was the fact that he wanted it. That every morning when the body was asleep and he would wake up, pressed against him and sharing body heat that was so unnatural and yet familiar, the only thing Sam could, would, do would be to snuggle closer. That his brother's body was intact, there was nothing stopping him to get rid of the demon. Except his own selfishness.

Just once had he tried it, he remembered the day clearly. The demon had been bound, the trap perfectly drawn around him. Sam remembered he had thought it was too easy. The demon had taken one look at him, smile never faltering before his eyes shone green.

"How could you?" His brother had whispered, disgust and revulsion clear in his voice. Even now it sounded too real and Sam gasped at the realization. The demon was whispering them in his ear right this second, every word timed perfectly with his thrusts. "To think that I trusted you, loved you and all this time everything you wanted to do was use me, just like everyone else. You were the only pure thing in my life, my family, my home and now I can't even look at you. So go ahead and take this demon out of me, Sam, because I can't stand being in the same room as you."

And it had hurt so bad, just like it hurt now, and he had cried and cried and then... released the demon.

"You did good, baby. I'm him, just better. I'll love you forever."

Sam groaned as an answer, hips moving under the guidance of a warm hand and he felt he was so close. His brother was moaning in his ear, he could feel every line of Dean's body pressed against his back. The shame and disgust weren't there, not gone, just buried deep within. But it was enough. Second later and he was coming, pain and pleasure all mixed in one. There was no more semen in his body yet it twitched as it tried to find something to paint his stomach with.

But Dean had already milked him dry.

"Good boy." The praise felt good against his skin and he smiled sleepily. If he played his cards right the demon would probably let him sleep for a few hours. He certainly looked like he was in a good mood.

Sam shifted deeper in the embrace and closed his eyes. Nights like this one he could even pretend this was real. Yes, he could see it clearly. His brother holding him tight, telling him he adored him and that there was nothing wrong in their love. Assuring him that he'd kick the ass of everyone who claimed it was dirtybadwrong. His smile grew bigger and he made the mistake of letting the content sigh leave his lips.

The change was sudden but expected. Fingers curled around his skin, only now it was all pain and no pleasure, teeth drawing blood whenever they went.

"Not so fast, baby boy." Voice sweet, words cold. Sam felt his chin being tugged in an awkward angle, heard the cracking of bones but he knew better than to turn his head willingly. To take the pleasure of torturing him from the demon. He didn't even close his eyes, there was going to be a hell to pay if he had.

Nothing could describe the shock that paralyzed his body when instead of black, green eyes were staring at him.

"We are not finished," the every bit of a clone of his brother smirked, blood shining between his teeth.

Somehow, it hurt more than anything the demon had done to him.

But that was the price for his happiness.

Right?

A/N Why do I do this?! I swear one day I'll write a story with Wincest and a happy ending. Until then I guess we will be reading angsty angst. I was also thinking of a sequel but this way it's more powerful, somehow. Hm... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it ^.^