Sam looked over at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. He wasn't sure what had woken him immediately but then he heard a small moan. It was muffled and when Sam looked over at his brother's bed, he saw why. Dean had the back of his left fist pressed against his mouth and he seemed to be biting down, hard. It wasn't a new sight, but Sam hadn't seen it for a few years now, since he hadn't stayed in a hotel room with his brother for a while. He never was sure which came first, the need to muffle his moans or the desire for pain, but Sam knew that this was a habit Dean had kept up even when he wasn't in a bed next to him or their dad.

Dean bit down hard until he tasted the coppery blood begin to flow from his skin. He could almost feel Sam's eyes on him and he smiled. Even if he was going to insist on being faithful, Dean could put on a show for him. He shifted in the bed, pulling back the sheets in a way that could have been accidental. Even in the dim light of the room, he knew Sam could see him, he knew because he heard his sharp intake of breath. Dean wrapped his fingers around his erection and squeezed it hard, thrusting into his hand. He listened to Sam's breathing, the way he was almost sighing and Dean wondered if he was only watching now. He tried not to picture Sam too vividly, it wasn't anything romantic, he just knew where he stood with his brother and he understood what he needed. That didn't stop his name slipping out as he moaned again, the blood dripping down his face.

Sam froze. Dean had just whispered, breathed his name. Did he know he was awake? He decided to wait and when he didn't hear it again, he opened his eyes a crack and saw Dean's back arching on the bed, his hips bucking noiselessly. His cock throbbed under the covers as he caught the scent of blood in the air. Did this count as unfaithful? He'd been so good. He hadn't even thought about anyone else since he'd been with Jess and he wasn't sure he wanted to break that streak, even if nobody would know.

"Oh f-fffuck..." came Dean's voice and Sam felt like his words were running through him. He watched as Dean removed his hand from his mouth and ran it down his body, digging his nails into his chest, leaving a thin trail of blood. When he opened his mouth again, another gasp and a small moan, Sam could see that his teeth were stained red and he wanted to kiss him, to taste it. Fuck. He jammed his hands under his back. He was not doing this.

Dean had done everything he could think of, everything he thought would work and Sam was still resisting. He couldn't hold on any longer, and he squeezed his cock tightly as he dragged his arm back up his body, the friction on the wound pushing him over the edge.

Sam bit his lip as he heard Dean come and instantly regretted it. The sharp pain sent a fresh surge of blood and need to his cock and he had to breathe deeply to stop himself from acting on it. He listened to his brother cleaning up and wondered if he'd be leaving the blood where it was. He wasn't sure how long he lay there before he fell asleep, but it was much longer than he was comfortable with.

"If you want to use the shower before check out, you're gonna have to get up now."

Sam opened his eyes and sat up, his hands numb from being under him as he slept.

"Sleep well?" he asked as he got out of bed, wrapping the bed sheet around his lower half.

"Like a baby." Dean replied, laughing when he turned around. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

There wasn't an inch of his body that Dean hadn't seen but he didn't feel like encouraging him today. He showered quickly, not wanting to give Dean any opportunity to intrude like he used to. By the time he was back in the bedroom, Dean was dressed and had packed up all of their things. Sam felt his eyes following him as he got dressed.

"Didn't she think it was weird?"

"A little less cryptic, Dean?"

"Your back."

Ah. Yes. His back. The old, faded scar on his shoulder, as large as his fist in the shape of a D. Dean's way of claiming him.

"I told her it was where a dog bit me."

"She bought that?" Dean was right behind him now, running his fingers over the thin white lines. "It's looking old, Sammy."

Sam tried to shrug him off but Dean held him firmly in place. He was smaller than him and no stronger, but he knew just where to hold, where to stand, what to say.

"I'm just looking. Calm down."

Sam flinched as he felt Dean's lips collide with his skin. He didn't kid himself that it was anything short of possessive.

"Come on, let's hit the road. Pass me my shirt," Sam said, moving away from him. He was not going to be late for his interview.