A/N: So, you may have noticed that I decided I didn't want the story to end right there...hence, Chapter Ten. I was originally going to have a sequel but then I couldn't come up with a better name for the sequel that tops "Another Troubling Realization" so I've decided to just continue with this.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester. If I did, Kripke would never get them back...and everyone needs that Homoerotic Subtext in that show!

Also, Not Beta'd...so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE point out things that I missed. I tried to be thorough with this and I think was successful, but then again, I can't be sure...

Enjoy, gals and guys!

True to His Word

True to his word, Sam topped the next time. And the time after that. And every other time since then. It was surprising, actually, to the both of them whenever Dean had come to the conclusion that he rather enjoyed being at the other's mercy entirely, being submissive to his younger brother, that he wasn't afraid to beg for it if Sam teased him too long. In fact, Dean loved every minute of it. He reveled in the power that Sam held over him while going through the motions of foreplay and coitus. He loved feeling subjugated to Sam's will, awaiting that moment when the other, more muscular man took him, let him travel to that peak and then fall without so much as a warning. More than ever, though, he loved the feeling, the sensation, of being filled, of being taken.

Truth of it was that it was simply because Dean trusted his Sammy. Yes, his Sammy. They had established that long ago. Even when they were children, Dean wouldn't let any of the other small kids so much as look at Sam without a thorough interview of sorts to make sure they wouldn't bully the younger or pretend to be his friend only to make fun of him later behind his back. Dean wouldn't let Sammy out of his sight except on the few rare occasions. Dean would make sure that Sammy always had something to eat even if it meant he would starve. So,in all retrospect, Sammy was his from the very beginning. His to look out for, to protect, to take care of. His to make sure he was educated as much as he could be, his to be a role model for.

His to love. And to love always.

It only made sense that their brotherly bond had progressed into lovers. Anyone else would agree. And, well, they did.

Truly, though, it was a funny story on how they knew everyone had agreed on that front. A story that Dean tries ever so hard to forget. But he knows that he cannot; simply because of the immense happiness and love that poured from Sam's body and spewed everywhere in the aftermath of the event.

It was Dean's birthday on that day. January 24th. And he had already guessed what was going to happen. He would be working all day—he didn't particularly care about his birthday (especially since he was turning 33 that year)—and Sam would surprise him with a cake, dinner, a movie, and birthday sex later. Oh, and pie. And presents. But, mostly, Dean looked forward to the birthday pie. Oh, yeah. But that was the only thing was he looking forward to. And, possibly the sex as well. Sex. And Pie. Hmm, maybe together? Spice up their foreplay a bit? He'd convince Sam. If the little sexual deviant hadn't already thought about it.

Honestly, it was as if Sam was born Kinky! Or maybe it was because most of the women—all of the women—that Dean had been with would have freaked out, not gone through it, not been into it in the first place, or were too fragile to handle the things Sam and Dean did to each other. Mostly Sam doing it to Dean as Sam made a point in making Dean his bitch. Which was okay with Dean. Because, perhaps not so surprisingly, he loved bottoming to Sam. The feel of the other's thick, leaking cock—which was a lot bigger than your average cock, and thicker, too—inside of him, pounding into his body relentlessly, abusing his prostate gland over and over again, stimulating his every nerve ending, driving him to…Dean shook his head. It wouldn't be proper if he got a boner while talking to a customer about college football.

And on that night, well, he tried to lock up and get home as fast as possible. It was only seven o'clock in the evening, but Dean knew he wouldn't be able to go home until early in the morning. Perhaps, if he were lucky, around two instead of four tonight.

Though, knowing Dean and his lack of good luck, he wouldn't go home at all until the next morning at this rate. Which, honestly, wouldn't surprise anyone. Except Sam was probably upset that Dean even considered working on his birthday in the first place.

Wait. Scratch that.

Sam was definitely upset. And not upset.

Pissed. Most definitely pissed at Dean.

But, it wasn't his fault; (okay, maybe it was) Dean needed an income. And, in order to gain an income, one needs to work. So, really Sam shouldn't be that upset over Dean working on his own birthday. Hell, it wasn't like he was working on Sam's birthday. Now, that would be a dick move.

Dean shook his head, dispelling thoughts of Sam. He was still working and this guy was still talking to him about college football as if he hadn't realized Dean was preoccupied with Sammy; then again, the guy looked like he was the type to be oblivious to people ignoring him…or, y'know, to everything.

With the presence of another customer at the bar, Dean was free to break away from the College Football Conversation and to place in the order for the new customer, who, Dean had to admit was rather good looking. With seemingly soft, black hair, that framed his pale face nicely, a lean frame that was hidden under an expensive leather jacker, and black jeans that seemed worn a little bit, he could be an interesting character. But not Dean's type.

Dean went for the absurdly tall and muscular, brown hair that was silky to the touch, high cheekbones, cute little dimples and a rockin' cock—damn. He'd have to go home sooner than he thought if he was going to continue like that.

Three hours later, Dean had had enough of this bar—even though he loved it just as much as his baby. And, he wasn't referring to Sam when he said 'baby'. He meant his car, of all things—and made his way home, another co-worker covering the rest of his shift. Upon arriving at their shared apartment, Dean couldn't help but wear an amused grin as he pulled into the parking lot.

Tonight better come with the best birthday sex of his life.

Unlocking the door, he was rather taken aback by the lack of light—maybe Sam was already asleep…the dick. "Sammy?" He called loud enough to be heard throughout the apartment.

"In the bedroom, De!" Came the distant reply.

Toeing off his shoes by the front door, he made his way blindly—though he didn't need to see; he knew this apartment inside and out—to the bedroom, starting to shed his coat, jacket, and shirt on the way. "Man, I need a keg of beer tonight….one bottle ain't gunna do it."

A small chuckle was heard and some rustling as Dean got closer.

"Oh, well, good thing I bought a 24 pack…"

Dean rolled his eyes. Leave it up to Sammy to buy an ass load of beer.

"You're gunna drink with me, right, Sammy?"

"Yeah, of course."

Dean opened the door and flicked on the light. "Before we fu—" He had to stop midsentence at the sight of an ass load of people in his bedroom! Blinking a few times—possibly to make sure he was seeing things correctly—he smiled, laughing a little.

A chorus of "Happy Birthday, Dean" echoed loudly in the room