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Dean could not believe how beautiful his younger brother was. He knew it, had always known it but had somehow managed to forget. How could he have forgotten? It was only forty odd years since he had last seen his brother like this, bared and waiting for him. He felt the impulse, with that so eager prick right by his mouth, to lick his lips. Running his tongue to wet them instead, he blew lightly seeing the resultant shiver in his brother, hearing the pleading in the single quick gasp.

The tip of his tongue trembled against the head of that prick, touched almost hesitantly to the slit as he took up the beads of moisture and returned it to his mouth, savouring the taste. Looking up at Sam, seeing the lust and longing, he moved forwards and took the head into his mouth, closing his lips gently just behind the hood. Keeping that intense eye contact, he began to laver the end with his wet tongue, his mouth salivating at the contact.

That green gaze bore into Sam as he stared right back, his teeth biting into his check as his whole body tensed while he fought not to take control, not to drop his hands to hold that head and force his tormented prick straight into that throat. Dean's moist mouth held him captive as that tongue tortured his slit. He did not speak, Dean had not spoken a word since he had issued the aggravated challenge. There was no place for words, no need to break the spell they were under, but he could not contain the slight moans, the little hitches of breath, the sounds of need.

Dean let his tongue explore further, licking around the hood, using the flat of his tongue to press and taste, his fingers digging into Sam's hips tighter, trying to still the movement. He wanted to do this for Sam, to do this to Sam, and he was not going to give up control, not at this time. Not yet.

Still looking up, he slid his loosened lips down along the length, letting his mouth relax. He watched Sam's face, watching for every little twitch and wrinkle that would tell him the effect he was having, which action was appreciated the most, which was negligent.

But then, as the taste of Sam's skin, the tang of his precum assaulted Dean's tongue, he gave up doing this just for Sam. He wanted, he needed to do this for himself, more even so. He reached up with his right hand to surround the thick base of the prick he had always struggled to accommodate in his mouth and throat. As he closed his eyes to concentrate on the feel, the texture of the silken skin moving over the hardened shaft, it seemed to grow even more, whether in actuality or his imagination he did not know nor care.

All he knew was the sensation of the skin moving under his hand that was twisting, rubbing along the shaft, the heat in his mouth, the shiver he caused throughout his brother's body as he pulled his tightened lips back along it until the hood 'popped' from his mouth. He swallowed as his left hand came up to lay against Sam's thigh, his other hand never ceasing its furious movement.

The back of Sam's head connected heavily with the wall once more as Dean let his prick leave the heat of his mouth then began to handle it against his palm as those damn glorious lips of his started to kiss along the length. He gave him small light quick nips that had his knees trembling and his lips caught between his teeth to stop the swearing, the pleading from leaving his mouth.

Dean was torturing him in the most pleasurable, erotic way. He wanted to scream as the kisses became heavier, longer, the skin caught up and slavered before release. Sam was going to cum soon but Dean, who now had a strangle hold on the base of his prick, obviously had other plans.

Slowly, loving the shivers that he was causing his brother, Dean licked along the entire length with just the very tip of his tongue, licking at that hyper sensitive spot just behind the head, then back down, following that proud standing vein all the way back to his constricting circling thumb and fingers.

He repeated the action, each time just that little bit slower, spending just a little bit longer tormenting that spot. His hand gripped onto Sam's thigh tighter as he felt the legs begin to give out.

Holding back the swear words, Sam had to move, had to let his hands fall and lightly grab hold of Dean's head. He could not stand the torture any more and needed to cum, or collapse to the floor. "Dean…." he begged. Letting the hood of his prick sit there on his tongue, Dean looked up at him almost as if waiting for an order but still with that near adoration in his eyes. There was no way Sam could resist that.

The hands on the side of Dean's head became stronger, holding him firmly and he only had time to blink once before Sam pushed his prick right to the back of his throat. Quickly, he adjusted on his knees knowing from the brief flash of dark lust in his brother's eyes that he was ceasing being patient and was about to take control. Complete control.

Damn! How Sam had missed this. Not only having Dean back, not only having Dean give him head, but giving him free rein to use him like this, to take from him, to use him. Drawing back, he thrust in hard confident Dean would open up for him. He had had plenty of practice after all.

The feel of that heat, the feel of the constriction on each thrust. As he pushed forwards, Dean would open his throat for him, as he pulled back, Dean would close his mouth and hollow out his checks, sucking hard. How could he resist that, how could he not push even further, even faster and suddenly he was cumming deep in Dean's throat.

Tears leaked from Dean's tightly screwed shut eyes, the hands on the sides of his head gripping painfully as Sam continued moving, seeming to try to push inside further, almost to the back of his neck. Desperately trying not to gag on the thick, still pulsing column of heated flesh inside his throat, his fingers dug into Sam's thighs as he held on and rode out his brother's powerful orgasm.

Collapsing back against the wall, Sam's knees did indeed give out under him. He watched through almost unfocused eyes as his moist prick slipped from Dean's lax open mouth. Sliding to sit against the wall, his head wobbled slightly as he concentrated on the sight of Dean's lush mouth. He smiled, at the stated feeling from his prick, from the fluttering of love in his heart and for Dean, who he knew hated being in such a mess but knew that equally, Sam craved to see him that way.

Dean knelt back, resisting the urge to lick away the cum and spittle from his lips and chin. His eyes concentrated on watching Sam's watch him. Sure enough, as he waited, Sam's hand rose and those long fingers began to smear the mess cross his lips, the ends of his fingers dipping into his mouth.

Sam loved to see that mess, to see Dean look so debauched and used, his lips glistening and swollen, victims of Sam's almost abuse. Usually he would not leave it there for long and glanced at the discarded towel to clean them both up but as he reached for it, he changed intention, grasping the back of the short shorn head with his free hand. As he twisted to kneel, his legs imprisoning his brother's, he pushed his fingers in further, seeing the green eyes open in surprise.

Dean just knelt there as the long fingers invaded and explored his mouth. He licked, sucked and bit at them but Sam's brow drew in in frustration and the fingers were removed to hold onto his jaw, Sam's head tilting to study him. Then his brother appeared to snap out of it and he smiled, reaching for the towel and he gently cleaned Dean's face.

Cleaning himself too, Sam then delicately touched Dean's jaw smiling still as he stared at those lips again, clean but swollen then tentively, as if he might damage them, kissed them, first the top one, then the bottom sucking it into his mouth.

Dean could not help it, he let out a soft begging moan. The sensation of his lips caught in Sam's warm mouth, the fingers so lovingly touching his jaw, his neck. He let his own top lip close on Sam's, his eyes drifting closed as he let the tip of his tongue run over the sensitive soft flesh. He moaned again. He had dreamt of this for years and, for years, it had kept him sane and strong. Dean had dreamt in Hell, had dreamt of Sam loving him, of that, softest of touches.

The moans went straight to Sam's soul. He took his time pulling off that lip, catching the other as Dean melted under his fingers, letting him take control again, letting him have his way. Both his hands now surrounded that face he adored so much as he continued to kiss and gently suckle on one lip then the other, his own quite noises joining in with his brother's continued small desperate whimpers.

He felt Dean's hand resting lightly on his hips, his fingers against his back pressing and releasing. He knew his brother well enough to know that this was him begging, pleading with him to do something, to take him and take him hard. Dean would never come out and say it, would never ask or push and pull at Sam to get what he wanted. No, Dean knew Sam well enough that he would respond much better to the passive entreaty and sure enough he did.

In a move that he could have fought, Dean found himself on his back with Sam covering him, pinning him down, his mouth consumed by the other's. Immediately his legs opened, his knees coming up high as he got the boots flat to the floor to give himself leverage as he pushed up against the so large body attempting to trap him to the ground. His hands were spread on the naked flesh on Sam's back and he found himself, tongue fucked.

Sam could not stop now. He kissed Dean as hard as he could, not wanting to hurt but wanting to feel, to have those fantastic lips give beneath his own. To surrender to him and they did. He held onto Dean's shoulders and, feeling the hard erection through the leather of those damn Lederhosen, he began to move on him, grinding his belly against it, his own lax prick hanging, caught against the fabric causing it to show interest already.

But when it came to Dean, his prick was always interested. A problem at the most inconvenient of times. But now he pushed and ground against the man who was equally intent on pushing his body into his. He wanted at him and rose up, his fingers grabbing at the fastenings of the Lederhosen. In no time he was frustrated. What the fuck?

He crawled backwards, kneeling between Dean's bent legs, searching for a way in. He started tugging at the soft leather, his face screwed up in frustration. Dean flopped against the floor as he was pushed and pulled. He wanted out of the damn things and finally broke his silence. "Sam! There's no opening! Get me out of the fucking things!"

Suddenly Sam sprang to his feet, pulling Dean up to stand in front of him. He wanted at him and could not wait. He wanted to feel him, wanted to touch that prick that had given him so much joy over the years. He wanted to bring Dean some of that joy. He swung him around and forced his right hand down inside the front of the shorts, his hand curling around the slick and attentive shaft.

It was fast and hard, Sam working him roughly, spreading the precum all along the length, no finesse, just pure heat and friction. Dean lifted his arm over his head to latch a hand onto the back of Sam's neck as his whole body arched.

Those long fingers were holding the side of his face and dipping into this mouth harshly, pulling it taut. His left hand flailed and he moved it back to hold onto Sam's hip, his fingers in turn digging into the flesh on the firm buttock.

Then it was over as he came, coating Sam's large hand as it continued to move on him, slowing to bring him through, to wring out of him another shudder, another jerk, another judder.

Dean's teeth had clamped down on the fingers in his mouth, trapping Sam just as he had Dean trapped against his body as he slumped back needing Sam to hold him up. He nuzzled against the short hairs on Dean's neck as his brother released the clamp on his fingers and began to sooth, to suck on them.

Taking his hand off Sam's hip, Dean lightly grasped hold of the hand intruding into his mouth. He wanted to love those fingers, wanted to suck and lick and slaver as Sam had prevented him from doing before. This time he held the hand hostage and had his fill.

Pulling his warm covered hand from inside the shorts, Sam moved to stand in front of Dean, his other hand still in that warm succulent orifice, his eyes coming to stare into the green glazed ones. His brother now had both hands holding his captive and he let himself close his eyes and stand to enjoy the sudo blow job that that so talented mouth was performing on him. He rocked slightly from side to side and, dropping his head, re established the eye contact as a smile, hinting at a smirk, curved his lips.

Dean's eyes never strayed from watching Sam's. The desperation that he had felt had just been tempered but still he wanted Sam's fantastic sizable prick pushing into of him, dragging out and pushing back inside. He groaned at the thought.

Sam moved closer again, pressing up against Dean. The leather was warm against his naked flesh but still in the way. He let his eyes move from the glowing gaze and searched the straps and bib for an opening. His free hand moved around to his brother's back investigating, ignoring the cum he spread on the things. As soon as he had gotten the man out of them, they were going to be trashed.

Still he could find no indication of how to remove them. So, if he could not get them off, an idea intruded and worried at his mind, no matter the feel of Dean's tongue lapping at the crease between his index and middle fingers. If he could not find a way to get Dean out of the things, how had been gotten into them?

His hand slid inside, down to spread out and gently grip a buttock. It had never ceased to amaze him just how one of his brother's smooth perfect cheeks could fit so exactly in his grasp. "Dean?" he whispered into his ear, leaning forwards.

"urr gurr?" and then he pulled his mouth back sucking along those digits but was not really interested in talking.

"Dean? Just how did you end up in this …costume?" his breath warm and then he licked at the shell of the ear and felt his brother tremble slightly and tilt his head to give him easier access. He breathed onto him again then caught the lobe between his lips.

Dean stopped for a second, then continued his ravishment of those fingers in earnest. He had wondered himself about that. Obviously the shapeshifter had been responsible but, in which guise? He hoped Lucy because, well he had to have been naked at some point, but knowing his luck? But right now he did not give a rats ass. He just wanted out of the damn things.

He liked the occasional costume and the games they would play but not this one. This was not a 'dress up' he had chosen just to piss his brother off with. This had been inflicted on him and why the hell had he been sown into it? Sick fucker. If the Shifter was not already dead...

Sam knew he would not be getting an answer soon and decided to wait for just the right opportunity to spring it on him when Dean was least expecting it. Right now he had other, more pressing, concerns on his mind. His aching prick and the nearness of Dean's most intimate area so close to his fingertips.

Dean finally pulled off those digits that he had been savouring as he felt Sam's others pushing between his buttocks, seeking out his asshole. He pushed the hand in his to the side of his face, wanting Sam to cradle him then closed his eyes at the first tentative touch at his pucker.

Sam circled the entrance as best he could but the angle was awkward. He pushed his hand inside the back of the shorts further also pushing himself hard against the other. Dean gave a slight gasp as he guessed he had just pulled the shorts tight against his recently, so abused, prick. Sam just tightened his hold against the side of his head, pulling it against his own. He felt Dean try to kiss his neck.

Dean could not hold in the anguish in the moan as Sam's cum slick finger pushed into his ass, hard. His hands clutched at the broad shoulders, his short nails digging into skin. He wanted this, he wanted it hard and fast and rough, just like Sam used to take him before, when Sam would read the need in him, the need to be used, to be fucked and made to feel alive. Made to feel as if he was the only thing keeping the need in Sam alive. But it hurt. It hurt a lot.

Sam stilled at the pain in the noise. He breathed. Dean was so tight around his embedded finger. Tighter than he ever remembered. Then he did remember, a comment that Dean had made the day before. 'Re-hymenated'. Dean's body was that of a virgin.

He slipped his hand off his brother's face and encircled his back, moving to place light soft dry kisses to the exposed skin on his neck. He had not had the pleasure, the 'privilege', of taking Dean's 'anal virginity' the first time, something that he had always quietly harboured a grudge for. Now, he had been given a second chance and there was no way he was going to hurt his beautiful older brother doing it. He was going to make love to him, whether Dean wanted him to or not.

As gently as he could, he worked his finger out of the clamping grasp and pulled his hand free from the shorts. Stepping back, he grabbed hold of Dean's hand and, seeing the doubt and questioning look in the green gaze, leant forwards to quickly kiss him then pull him by the hand, his other sliding down to the base of his spine, to the nearest bed.

Dean let himself be led and manoeuvred onto the bed and he watched as Sam moved back to look at him, a strange sweet smile on his face. He wanted to say something, to ask what his brother had in mind but then Sam reached forwards, bending at the waist to grasp one of his feet. He watched curiously as first one, then the other of his boots was removed and his feet placed back on the bed leaving him propped against the headboard, his knees bent and his legs open.

Sam straightened up, looking at the sight laid out before him. He had a gentle smile to his lips that he was unaware of and moved off, heading to his jacket. He wanted Dean out of the damn costume and he wanted him out now. Retrieving the object he turned and moved to stand once more at the bottom of the bed looking Dean in the eye.

He did not know what to expect but Dean wished Sam would stop delaying and do something. His prick, caught against the leather, was throbbing with need not to mention a little sorely and he needed Sam to sooth it. Either with his mouth or his harsh hand again. He did not care which but he needed it 'scratched'. But Sam had an almost gleeful expression on his face as he stood there hiding something behind his back.

As Sam placed one knee onto the bed, Dean sat back slightly, his hands coming up to hold onto the headboard. His brother obviously wanted him here so he had to hold onto something to stop himself from surging forwards and once more demanding his brother get him out of this thing and fuck him. He so wanted that, for Sam to take control as he used to do before, when a glint would appear in his eyes as the mood took him.

But his face was teasing, almost tender. Dean did not want to be teased, could not bare tenderness now. He did not deserve it. He wanted hard and fast and pain. Pain to tell him he was alive, the kind of pain that would have him begging for more. The kind of pleasure/pain that only his brother could give him, only his brother had ever made him feel.

Sam continued to slowly make his way up the bed, one knee at a time amazing Dean once more with his grace, such a smooth fluid movement for a man so large. He found his eyes trying to look everywhere, at the muscles clenching and relaxing with the movement, with the light striking and reflecting off his so recently cleaned skin. At that prick, lightly swollen as it swung with his movement but he was always drawn back to the eyes, rich golden hazel in the electric light. He thought he could see that glint but guessed it was just his hopeful imagination.

Finally between his brother's legs, Sam hovered over him, his fists against the bed by his brother's waist holding him up and still hiding what he had retrieved from his jacket. He closed in and placed a slow but chaste kiss to the open waiting mouth then drew back watching the green eyes blink. Kneeling back, he brought his right hand up to show Dean how he was going to get him out of the leather Lederhosen.

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TBC...