Author's notes: Some sexual content but not super explicit, flashback warning

Part 19 - who are we to each other?

They were getting drunk at the motel after successfully saving a bunch of kids from getting their hearts ripped out by a pair of werewolves. Dean was singing the most awful karaoke rendition of Queen's 'We Will Rock You' and Sam was laughing his ass off as he downed his fourth beer. It was probably just the heat of the moment, they were still high off the adrenaline, another win for team Singer and Winchester. And between the two of them, there had been more than 9 beer bottles so yeah, lots of alcohol too.

Sam decided to go for it, the feelings had been building up for the past year now, the connection he felt with Dean ran deeper than anything he ever felt. He leaned over and grabbed Dean on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. It was sloppy at first, Sam couldn't figure out where his lips were, and Dean had froze, his singing that had been loud and obnoxious and distracting ceased almost immediately, but Sam didn't care. He was too distracted by how pink and full and soft Dean's lips looked, and how kissable they must have been.

The kiss deepened and Sam wasn't sure when Dean closed his eyes and got into it the same way Sam had but he was grateful. Dean moaned under him and opened his mouth and Sam wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He darted his tongue in and tasted and explored and it felt like heaven. Dean felt amazing, like everything he dreamt of and more. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, intertwined, pressed in a deep, passionate kiss but Sam knew it couldn't last forever.

They eventually broke free and Sam took a deep breath, watching as Dean leaned back, taking in a couple breaths himself.

"Wow," Dean said.

"Wow?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't sure what they were doing but he wanted to continue it. They could always blame the alcohol tomorrow morning.

"I uh...just wow," Dean repeated, dazed.

"Good 'wow' right?"

Dean snorted. "Is there a bad 'wow'?"

Sam shook his head, laughing. "Guess not." He hesitated before leaning in again and placing a hand over Dean's. "I'm not reading this wrong, am I? Tell me you want this too, that this thing between us for the past year hasn't been one-sided." He watched Dean struggle internally with his emotions.

Dean's tongue darted out to lick his lips and again Sam found himself distracted as he watched the movement. Dean was beautiful, always had been, but the more confident he had gotten on hunts, the more swagger he put in his steps, the more Sam realized he wouldn't be able to let Dean go. Maybe this selfish part of himself made him a bad person, but he didn't care. The kiss had confirmed what he already knew.

"Why, Sammy, are you asking me to have sex with you?" Dean asked, looking up at Sam through his lashes.

"I'm asking for more than that, Dean," Sam said, his heart pounding in his chest. It came out almost as a plea. He had never felt so vulnerable as that moment, waiting for Dean to either accept him or reject him.

Sam could see the hesitance as Dean thought it over. Then he leaned forward and bumped their heads together, smiling as he said, "Ok. Let's try it."

They didn't have sex that night. Sam had been way too drunk to get it up and Dean was fine with just falling asleep right there in jeans and a tee shirt. Sam sighed as he closed his eyes and soon found himself dreaming of living in a house with Dean, having wild sex all the time that involved Dean naked and on his knees while he sucked Sam off.

Things were good for a week. They found another hunt and saved people from a rugaru. Then they had sex, or tried.

It had been Dean's idea. Sam didn't want to push it. Dean needed to come to him.

"So I've been thinking about this all week," Dean started and Sam sat up, putting down the book he had been reading about vampires. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous. Sam watched as Dean licked his lips, took a deep breath to calm himself, and said, "I know we just got into...this relationship or whatever, but I thought about it long and hard. And I'd really like to do this thing for you, Sammy."

Sam immediately opened his mouth to tell him he didn't have to do whatever he thought he had to do. This wasn't going to be a one-sided relationship where Dean was expected to please Sam whenever Sam wanted. Dean held up his hand though and Sam closed his mouth, swallowing visibly instead, suddenly nervous as well.

"I want to do this. I like doing this," Dean said softly, walking over to the bed Sam was sitting on.

"What is it that you want to do?" Sam asked after a moment, watching Dean kneel next to the bed.

"I want to suck you off," Dean replied.

Sam licked his lips. He wanted that too, imagined that moment where Dean was on his knees, looking at him with eyes filled with lust, pink lips stretched almost obscenely wide around Sam's girth. Sam moaned at the image and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wide enough for Dean to fit between them.

"Yeah, ok," Sam said, feeling his arousal travel down to his dick. He unzipped his pants and got his half hard cock out. He watched as Dean's eyes darkened, his cheeks flushing as he stared distractedly at Sam's dick. Sam took advantage of the moment and reached out to grab the top of Dean's head. "Lick it," Sam whispered.

Dean's eyes widened and hesitating for only a second, he leaned forward to lick the head of Sam's cock. Sam moaned at the heat of Dean's tongue. "Keep going," he said when Dean paused.

Dean's movements started off jerky and unsure, but Sam was able to encourage him to continue and soon, Dean was deep-throating Sam like he'd been doing this his whole life. Sam had closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation of Dean's tongue, to the heat of his mouth, when suddenly it was all gone and he heard coughing and wheezing and Sam had to open his eyes to see Dean bent over, looking one minute away from bursting.

Sam didn't even think, scrambling off the bed and slinging an arm over Dean's shoulder, while pressing his other hand gently on Dean's stomach. "Hey, hey, Dean. Breathe for me, ok?" Sam heard himself babbling. "You're ok, dude. You're having a panic attack, I think. Just take deep breaths man. Just in and out and count each time you're taking a breath until you reach 10, got it?"

Dean did and it seemed to help. Sam watched him gather himself. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and Dean looked up at him, a forced smile on his face. "Thanks. I, uh...I think I'm ok now."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah, man. Sorry about that," Dean apologized.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing to apologize for." He paused for a moment before adding, "If you're not ready, you don't have to do this."

Dean sighed. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Sam just shrugged, trying to hide the disappointment he felt. He zipped his pants back up and sat back down on the bed.

"I'm going to grab a shower," Dean told him.

"Sure. Save some hot water for me," Sam said as he watched Dean head to the bathroom.

Sam felt like he should've known better. Dean had been abused for 4 years at least. He had been degraded and treated like a slave and not like a person, made to feel like he was nothing. So of course he'd have some hangups, come in with baggage. Sam was just so stupid.

The next morning was eerily quiet. Sam woke up to an empty bed and he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised after the turn of events the prior night, but it was still weird and he almost panicked. He sat up straight and looked around to see a note on the nightstand next to him. It was in Dean's crude handwriting, written quickly and sloppily. He had to squint to make out the words.

Hey Sammy,

Don't panic. Just left to take care of something I should've done a while ago. Be back soon. If I'm not back by tonight, don't wait up. Love ya, man. You've been the best thing I've had, since ever, and I know that ain't saying much but...well that's all I got.

Yours,

Dean

Sam read it again and again just to make sure he was reading it correctly. It sounded almost like a farewell letter. He crumpled the note, and shot out of bed, grabbing his jacket and keys. He had a sinking suspicion he knew where Dean was headed to.

Dean wasn't going to leave him, not like this.