Dean drifted back into consciousness, slowly, reveling in the feel of the warm, strong arm draped across his chest, and the fingers lazily tracing little scars along his shoulder and collarbone. As he became more aware, he also realized there was hot breath against his other shoulder, and a leg draped over one of his. He could smell Sam, though he didn't need to, to know it was him.

He smiled and cracked open his eyes, turning his head toward his younger brother, just as Sam picked his head up and met his eyes. "Hey," Dean said.

Sam smiled for a moment, but it faltered slightly, mixed with concern, "You okay?"

Dean let out a small laugh, "Think so."

"I figured either it was really good, or I broke you," he told him.

"I doubt you could break me, Sammy," Dean smirked.

"I was holding back, a bit," Sam lowered his tone, and moved a bit closer, leaning in to steal a kiss, nipping at Dean's lower lip as he pulled back.

"No need, on my account," Dean's voice inadvertently cracked. He needed to break eye contact with Sam, for a moment. It was like the man radiated pure lust. It was hard not to respond to it. As he assessed himself, he realized that Sam had cleaned them both up, and draped a sheet over them, where they lay. "How long was I out?"

"Maybe five minutes," Sam replied. "Actually, I wasn't paying attention, once I laid back down. Too busy thinking."

"Yeah?" Dean turned his head again, furrowing his brow, slightly. "What about?"

"This," he replied. "Us. Just...thinking about things."

"An' what things might that be?" Dean asked, curious about the look in Sam's eyes. But Sam smiled a bit shyly, and ducked his head a bit. "Oh no, you don't get to do that," Dean found himself grinning as he reached over dug his fingers into Sam's side, tickling him, succeeding in getting a quick jerk and a yelp of surprise from the younger man.

"It's..." Sam grabbed onto Dean's wrist to hold him back from further tickling, "You might...think it's..."

"Hey," Dean twisted his arm around so that he was the one holding Sam's wrist, and looked him in the face. He was concerned that Sam had been thinking about what he'd seen in the woods; about mortality and the possibility of losing each other. "Just tell me. It's okay."

"I..." his eyes flitted around in the air between them, before Dean let go of his wrist, slightly concerned, and Sam tucked his face in between the mattress and Dean's ear.

"Look, Sammy, whatever it is, I'm not gonna judge you, okay?"

"I really like making you come," Sam said quietly, but right against his ear, so really it was kinda loud to Dean. And he wasn't sure if it was what he'd said, or how he'd said it, but it was almost like the tunnel in his ear was directly connected down to his cock, because that's how far Sam's hot breath traveled.

"Uh...you like...um...I mean, I like...doing that to you, too, Sam," Dean stuttered out, unable to move from his current, seemingly frozen position.

"I mean I...really like it, Dean," Sam told him in the same fashion. Bastard must've known how it was effecting him, now. "I like watching you, when it happens. I like...the way you twitch, right before it happens. Not just your cock, but..." Dean's mind did a sort of jolting short-circuit when Sam said that word, and so zoned out, unintentionally, for a moment, "...whole body. I like seeing your face and hearing the sounds you make when you come. I like it all, Dean. I'm addicted."

Dean pushed at Sam, quickly spinning him onto his back and holding him down by his wrists as his chest pressed into his, "You should stop, Sam. You've got no idea what you're doing to me, right now."

The corners of Sam's mouth curved up. "Sure I do," he pressed his hips up into Dean.

Dean growled. "Sam... C'mon. You might still be in your prime, but I think I might need a little more than five minutes after unconsciousness, to recover."

"Did you just..." Sam laughed in pause, "Admit that you're too old to get it up any time soon?"

"Wh- no!" Dean's eyes widened.

"I'm pretty sure that's what you just said."

"Does this feel like I can't get it up?" Dean dragged Sam's hand down between them, just as Sam was hoping, and he was ready to grip the hard shaft his fingers came in contact with. Dean let out a groan as his brother squeezed him.

"I guess I was wrong," Sam said, stroking him as he spoke. "What is it you were saying, then?"

"I uh...I...damn it, Sam," Dean pulled Sam's hand away, so he could think. "I just meant..." he thought for a moment, trying to recall what his point had been. Oh. Right. "I made us some lunch, ya know, before you woke up. You've gotta be hungry. I know I definitely need to refuel."

"Lunch?" Sam, for a moment, seemed to think the word alien. His stomach seemed to register it, before his brain. An obnoxiously loud grumble came from his abdomen, and that seemed to make him catch on.

Dean smiled down at him, "Yeah, you're hungry alright." He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Sam's lips before pushing up, and rolling out of the bed. "I'll grab the sandwiches and we'll eat in bed, okay?"

Sam pushed to sit up, as he thought about that. "What about crumbs?" he asked, raising his brows.

"Seriously? I got us some paper plates, dude. Stop worrying about crumbs," he pulled on his discarded boxers that were on the floor. Then he found Sam's, wedged between the bed and side table, and threw them at him, "Put these on, or we'll never get through lunch." Sam gave him an amused look, but slipped them on. Dean looked him over, and decidedly grabbed a tee shirt and threw that at him as well. "This, too." Sam shook his head, but smiled and pulled the shirt on over his head, as Dean went to the kitchenette.

Dean grabbed a couple extra paper plates, a hand towel and two beers, with the plate of sandwiches, and brought it all back to the bed. Sam took the plates from him, so Dean could set the beers on the night stand and sit down.

"So," Sam started as he grabbed one of the sandwiches from the middle plate, "How long you think we'll be staying here?"

"I dunno," Dean said, then took a large bite of his sandwich. "Figured we could stay a while," he said with a full mouth. "Place has kinda grown on me." He swallowed down the mouthful of food and took another bite of the sandwich, glancing over at Sam, when he remained silent. Sam was looking at him funny, which made Dean do a bit of a double-take. "What?" he asked.

"You; wanting to stay put somewhere, when a job's finished? You feeling okay?"

"You're funny," Dean cocked his head, then turned back to his meal.

"Or maybe your ass hurts, and you wanna wait a while-"

"My ass is fine, thank you very much," he replied, unfazed, finishing off his sandwich, and twisting open his beer.

"You did do a really good prep job," Sam agreed, taking a large bite of his sandwich. Dean pretended to ignore him, and took a very long drink from the bottle as Sam started digging through the rumpled up sheets. "Where is it?" Sam mumbled under his breath, then shoved the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth, so he had another free hand.

"What're you lookin' for?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't answer, until he found it, and held it up between them. "This," the blue plug still glistened with lube.

Dean swallowed. "W-why did you need to find that?" he asked, eyes darting from the object to Sam's eyes and back.

"I think I should put it back where I found it," Sam told him in that voice...that fucking voice that got to Dean every single time. Dean said nothing, though; just looked at him, attempting to look unaffected. Sam leaned in a bit closer, "I think you should keep it in, and take me to the place where you bought it. Because I'd like to pick up a few things, too," he said, his mouth so close to Dean's ear, that all he had to do was speak in almost a whisper as he continued.

"Like..." Dean cleared his throat, when his voice cracked, and tried again, "Like what?"

Sam smiled, where Dean couldn't see him, and shifted his body closer. "Like, a cock ring," he told him. "Not for you," he elaborated. "I'd never stop you from coming." A shiver ran down Dean's spine, and his eyes clamped closed. "I need it for me, because I can't help myself; when I hear you come, I can't stop myself from coming, too...'cause you're so damn hot, Dean. You're so gorgeous when you come, and I can't get enough." Dean's hand squeezed so hard around the bottle of beer in his hand, he was surprised it didn't shatter. "An' I wanna make you come over and over; wanna make it so good for you, Dean. So will you?"

Dean blinked his eyes open, realizing he'd just been asked a question. "W-what?"

"Will you do it?"

"Do what?" Dean asked, realizing Sam's hand was on his thigh, now.

"Will you let me put this back in, and then take me to that store," he repeated, moving his hand slowly up toward Dean's straining erection, through his boxers. All he could do was nod, and as soon as he did, Sam's hand was on him, stroking him hard through the fabric. Dean fumbled to get his beer to the side table. "Get on your hands and knees," Sam told him. Dean found himself obeying, without a second thought, and somehow, following Sam's commands made him feel even more turned on, instead of what he'd normally feel, which would be disempowered.

Dean felt his boxers shoved down as far as they'd go, with him positioned that way. He waited, hearing the unmistakeable sound of the lube being opened, and then the tip of the plug at his entrance, at the same time Sam's hand wrapped around his shaft, slicking it up with lube as well.

"Sam...please," he nearly whimpered. "You're gonna fuckin' kill me..."

He grunted, pleasantly, as the plug slid into place; Sam's hand working expertly on his hard cock. But then he stopped. "Wait," he told Dean. "I have an idea. Lie down on your back."

Dean didn't really have the mental capacity, in the moment, to question him. He simply turned over onto his back, and waited for whatever Sam had in mind. But then Sam was straddling him, somehow naked again, and Dean suddenly understood what was going to happen. "Sam?"

"Ssh," Sam draped himself down over him, kissing him for a moment, before lowering to his ear again, "I need it, Dean. Need you in me."

"Jesus, Sam," his hands scrambled up to grab him by either side of his head. "Anyone ever tell you you're a slut?"

Sam let out a laugh, at this, and looked Dean in the eyes, before saying, "You love it," in that...way. And he dove in to kiss him, ferociously, as he sank down onto Dean's cock with ease. Both of them groaned into each others mouths.

They kissed until there wasn't breath available to continue, and Sam pushed upright, thighs tightening at the sides of Dean's waist as he began riding him. Dean's hands traveled up Sam's thighs until they met his hips, feeling the muscles in them work as he moved over him.

Sam really was beautiful. Dean's eyes roamed over his brother's toned chest and abs, with desire. They weren't as buff as they had been a year ago. In fact, Sam had lost a great deal of muscle-weight, after getting his soul back. But he was strong and lean, and gorgeous; every inch of him. Dean wished he could be as open with those kind of thoughts, as Sam was. Sam was an animal in bed, Dean had come to discover. And normally, Dean was pretty intense as well. But it seemed that with Sam, Dean was shy; timid to a point. It was like Sam struck him speechless and completely stupid. Or maybe just dumb, because Dean could still think. Hell, he was thinking now. And...well shit. Not anymore...

Because suddenly, Sam was reaching behind him, playing with that plug in Dean's ass, and somehow magically finding out what to do with it, to make it scrape against his prostate. And all of Dean's thought process flew out the window.

He had just enough mind left to grab onto Sam's glistening cock and start stroking him, like this was a race; who could get the other one off first.

It wasn't fair. This isn't fair. But it was...because they both had equal stimulation points, and both of them were on the brink, thrusting into and onto each other; backs bowed and heads thrown back, desperately trying to fight that instinct, because they wanted, more than anything, to watch the other.

In the end, they relied on their sense of hearing. Neither of them were quiet, when orgasm hit. Every time, it had been shouting and moaning and just simply...no holding back. This was no different. And as he felt Sam's come on his skin, as far up as his chin, he had the fleeting thought of gladness that he'd not gotten dressed before lunch...

Once again, Sam had cleaned them up; Dean seemingly paralyzed where he lay, watching him in awe. How the hell was Sam so damn energetic after these things?

"Come on," Sam said, rolling out of the bed. "We should hurry up, or we'll never leave this room again." He slipped on his boxers, then his jeans.

"You can't give me fifteen minutes?" Dean asked, pushing himself up to sit.

"Last time I gave you that long, what happened?" Sam asked, before slipping his shirt on over his head. He picked up Dean's clothes as the older brother thought about that.

"What makes you think it won't be the same thing, once we get back here?" Dean asked, as Sam tossed him his clothes.

"Oh, it will be," Sam replied. "Only, we'll have everything we need." Dean just looked at him for a long moment. Sam seemed pleased with himself. Dean was both scared, and more excited than he'd been about anything in a really long time.

Sam glanced over toward the kitchenette, as he sat down to slip on his shoes. "You got Lucky Charms, right?"

FIN~

AN: Okay so...this is the end... Though I feel like I could've gone of forever. I might continue this story. Actually, I'd do a sequel. So follow me, if you're interested.

Thanks for reading! And for your support :)