"Something came up a few weeks ago that I think we should try." Dean looked up from the sandwich he was assembling, licking his thumb. Sam was leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set stubbornly.

Dean knew the set of his brother's jaw meant what was coming might not be something Dean would like. He waited. When Sam still said nothing, Dean flicked his hand at him to go ahead and turned back to his sandwich.

In the doorway, Sam cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. Dean was instantly nervous. What could his brother have to suggest that was so hard for him to say? Just as Dean was placing the second piece of bread on top, Sam began.

"A few weeks ago, when I was opening you up to take me and the dildo, I said something. It was something that I just kind of said, you know, in the moment, but the way you reacted, it got me thinking."

Even without specifics, Dean knew instantly what his brother was talking about and felt his ears turn a brilliant shade of red. God, he'd hoped Sam had forgotten. And why the fuck was he bringing it up now? He was so distracted by his thoughts, he almost missed Sam continue. "– realize it might not pan out, we could hate it, but I really want to try fisting you, and –"

"Dammit Sam!" Dean shouted, his knife slicing jaggedly through the sandwich, nearly cutting into his hand. He threw the knife down and stared straight ahead, bracing his hands on the counter. Even though he'd known what Sam was talking about, hearing the word out loud had still caught him off guard. He tried to deflect, anything to avoid this topic and his embarrassment. "Are you really bringing this up right now, in the kitchen of all goddamn places?"

Dean saw Sam stand taller in his periphery. Dean's nerves always seemed to make him more secure. "Are you really staring at the wall to avoid me?" His voice was snide and Dean fought the urge to punch his brother in the face.

Sam sighed. "Look, I don't know where the suggestion came from. Like I said, it just kind of came out, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try it. You seemed to like the idea of taking my whole hand at the time and I think we should give it a shot. You've had two fucking cocks in you at once. You might really like this."

Dean's cheeks were flaming by the time Sam finished, but he thought about what Sam was saying. It was true, at the time he'd had a visceral reaction to the words, whimpering and lifting his hips into Sam at the mere thought. It's possible this would be something else that they both ended up enjoying. Didn't mean it wasn't embarrassing.

Dean angled his head, a concession. "Can we talk about this later?" He grunted.

"Yeah, sure." Dean could hear the eye roll in Sam's words.

That night, Dean made sure Sam was in his room and then closed himself into his own, locking the door securely behind him. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, pulling out the small laptop they'd invested in for Dean when he'd decided he wanted his own. Shooting nervous looks at the door and listening for any sounds of movement in the hallway, Dean opened a private window.

Again he checked for movement and then finally typed in what he was looking for. Fucking Sam. He would have never searched anything to do with fisting if it wasn't for his brother and his dirty mouth, or his insistence at talking about things.

Dean shook his head at himself and clicked into a video with the sound on low. If he was going to talk about this with Sam, he needed to have some idea if this was something he wanted. When Sam had been four fingers deep in his ass, Dean hadn't had many working brain cells left to consider what Sam was really saying. It had sounded hot and he'd reacted. Now he needed to figure out how he really felt.

It took a few videos and a little bit of research before Dean felt like he had a decent grasp on what fisting looked like for both participants and how it should be done for people not in the business of porn, because holy hell, some of those guys had taken way more than a hand. Dean still wasn't convinced, but he wasn't totally against it either. At least his cock wasn't, half-hard in his underwear.

Pushing his laptop to the side and shoving down thoughts of everything he'd just seen and read, Dean slid a hand into his lap and palmed over his dick.

The following day Dean avoided Sam as much as he could, staying in his room as long as possible and then going to work on Baby for a while in the garage. He'd spent a lot of the night going back over the videos and information in his head, spinning Sam's suggestion around over and over until he finally was so frustrated he downed a few fingers worth of whiskey and forced himself to sleep.

Now it was late in the afternoon and he was wrapping things up with the car. Dean wiped his hands down and left the garage, listening for Sam so he could find a way around him in the bunker. He quickly and silently made his way to the bathroom and hopped in the shower, the steam and heat relieving some of his pent up stress. It wasn't long until he toweled off and ducked back into his room.

Rather than get dressed, Dean pulled on a pair of boxers and dropped into bed, tired from staying up late and worrying anxiously all morning. He curled into his pillow and fell asleep in minutes.

It was the sound of a knock on his door that woke Dean. He groaned and buried his face in his pillow. Again, he heard knuckles on wood and then his brother's voice. "Dude, can we talk?" Dean closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound. "Dean." Sam's voice was short and insistent.

"What," Dean grunted, tugging his sheet above his head.

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever, man."

The creak of the doorknob filled Dean's ears and he resisted peeking outside the sheet, knowing his brother would be sporting puppy-dog eyes meant to draw him into a heart-to-heart. He heard the shuffle of his brother's feet across the floor and felt the shift in his mattress as Sam sat on the bed, secretly pleased that his memory foam did exactly what it was supposed to and he didn't roll an inch.

Sam sighed and rested a hand on Dean's hip, his thumb rubbing soothingly through the thin material of the sheet. "Would you let me see your face?"

"Why?" Dean pouted, knowing he must sound ridiculous, but what other choice did he have to avoid this conversation.

"Dude. Come on." When Dean didn't budge, there was suddenly a breeze as the sheet was tugged down, his head and chest exposed.

"Hey!"

Sam was staring down at him impatiently. "We need to talk, man. Stop being a child about this." Dean deflated under Sam's gaze and simply lay there, resolutely keeping his eyes on the bed. Another sigh exploded from Sam's lungs. "Why do you do this?" Sam said, shaking his head, and Dean knew he wasn't actually looking for an answer.

After another deep breath, Sam continued. "Look, I know you hate talking like this. I don't always love it either, despite what you think about me. But we need to have certain conversations whether we like it or not."

Dean shot Sam an incredulous look. "And this is a conversation we need to have? I don't fucking think so."

"Would you stop being stubborn for one goddamn second?" Sam exploded and Dean reared back into his pillow. "We need to have this conversation because that's what couples do, Dean. They talk. They discuss what they want or don't want. They have to trust each other even with the uncomfortable things. This is something that I know was lurking at the back of both of our minds. Whether we go through with it or not, we need to talk about it."

Dean was thoroughly shamed and he swallowed. Fighting his need to avoid the topic, Dean looked up into Sam's eyes. "Okay," he agreed, eyes darting away and back.

Sam gave him a half smile and leaned down for a chaste kiss, the soft press of lips a small comfort to both of them. "Thank you." He smoothed back a strand of Dean's hair. "You heard what I had to say yesterday, but I'll tell you again, just so we're clear." He paused a beat, only continuing when Dean nodded. "We know how fucking good it was having you take two cocks. I think you might really enjoy taking my whole hand and it's something I want to try with you. Plus it's something else to push our limits a little bit and it could be really good." His hand went back to resting on Dean's hip, thumb rubbing lightly. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Dean said, fingers twiddling with the edge of his pillowcase.

"Dean," Sam chided.

"No, I'm not – I'm not avoiding. I really don't know. It was all I thought about last night and I can't decide if it's something I want to do or not."

Sam met his eyes, lips spreading in a small, pleased smile. "We can work with that." He tilted his head, considering. "How about this? We try. I work you open on my fingers like usual, get you nice and stretched, and then we can test the thumb. If it's awful or you decide you really don't want to do it, we stop. No pressure."

Dean slid onto his back and looked at Sam, reaching out with one hand. "I can do that," he agreed. Sam smiled and grabbed his hand, letting himself be reeled in. Giving his brother a shy smile, Dean pursed his lips for a kiss, curling his arm around Sam's neck when he leaned in to give him one.

After a long heated kiss, Sam pulled back, Dean straining after him. Sam responded with a dimpled grin, sending Dean's heart into a dance and climbed onto the bed more fully to lie next to him, kissing him again when they settled into a comfortable position.

"Love you, De'."

"Sap," Dean murmured into Sam's lips. "You too."

They had agreed to give it a try the following evening, both of them still thinking it through after their talk. For the rest of the night, they hadn't talked about it, simply laying together, making out, ignoring everything but the easy moments between them.

The morning hadn't been too bad. They'd had a nice breakfast together and gone about their day. By the afternoon though, Dean was nervous, bouncing his foot while watching TV, shooting quick looks at Sam before staring in another direction, tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh. He tried going for a drive, but he was so distracted, even Baby couldn't soothe him.

Sam came into the den and sat next to Dean on the couch, angling his body towards him. Dean stared straight ahead. "Dean," Sam sighed, "We don't have –"

"Shut up, Sam." Dean's brow furrowed as he let out a pinched sigh of his own, still avoiding Sam's eyes.

"No. Dean, if you –"

"I said, shut up." Dean dropped his head back on the couch, huffing a breath through his teeth. "I said we'd try, so just let me…" His voice trailed off, but he hoped his message was clear. He wanted to do this, if only because he promised Sam. But even that wasn't entirely the truth. Dean was curious and despite his nerves, he wanted to go through with it.

Sam raised his hands in supplication, nodding his head in acceptance. Rather than argue further, Sam settled in to watch an episode of whatever Dean had on, his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean smirked. His brother had no appreciation for Dr. Sexy MD.

A little while later, Sam grumbled, "Really?"

Dean startled and glanced at the top of his brother's head. "What?"

"He really gets you going huh?"

"What?" Dean asked again, his eyebrow lifting.

Sam pushed himself upright and raised his own eyebrow, pointing with a jerk of his chin. Dean followed the gesture and felt his cheeks heat. He couldn't help it if he got a semi watching the show. Between Dr. Sexy's good looks, the intelligent doctor-speak, and the freaking cowboy boots, Dean was looking at a fantasy, even if it was a man. It's not like he didn't appreciate the male form; Sam was just the extent of his interest.

"Oh, come on Sam. Even you have to admit –" Dean stopped mid-sentence at Sam's glower. "Or maybe not." He shrugged. What did Sam want from him? His brother knew his sexual history, but he also knew that Dean was happy just being Sam's. Dean could also sense a bit of playfulness behind Sam's annoyance, so maybe he wasn't totally serious. "You know you're it for me, Sammy."

Sam's face instantly smoothed out and he smiled, leaning in over Dean, whispering right into his ear. "Yeah I do." Sam dropped a hand to Dean's thigh, trailing his fingers over to the inseam of his jeans, then cupping his cock through the fabric. Dean groaned. He loved having Sam's hands on him and he could already feel his semi filling out.

"Sam," Dean groaned, urging him on.

Sam kissed the tip of his ear and down the shell until Dean shuddered at the sensations. "Go get ready for me," he whispered, breath tickling Dean's ear. Dean nodded and pushed himself up, already missing Sam's closeness.

It was when he got to the hallway that Dean felt the nerves kick in again. He was going right then to clean himself out so Sam could fill him with his fucking fist. What was he thinking? Dean's hands shook as he entered the bathroom and he could see the bright red spots highlighting his cheeks in the mirror. He stared himself down and inhaled deeply. He needed to calm down.

The process took a little while, slightly longer than usual with how thorough he was. Dean didn't dare look himself in the eye in the mirror again before he left. Once he finished, he washed his hands and left as quickly as possible, finding Sam on his memory foam mattress when he got to his room.

Dean felt restless, a little wild. He didn't know what to do with his hands or if he should sit or strip or what. Sam seemed to sense it, holding out his hand to Dean. Wetting his bottom lip, Dean let himself be pulled down onto the bed next to his brother and curled up on his chest.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sam asked into his hair, running a soothing hand over his upper back.

Dean refused to let his nerves win. "Yeah," he managed through a tight throat. And then, "I need a drink."

Sam barked a laugh and reached down over the side of the bed, coming back with a bottle of whiskey. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

Dean didn't know how he felt about being so predictable, but he was grateful all the same for his brother's foresight. He reached for the bottle, leaning up to take a long swig. Sam let him take three more before he tugged the bottle away and set it aside. Dean reluctantly let go and settled his head back on Sam's muscular chest, his fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt.

Warmth had started in his belly and the longer he laid there, the looser he felt. "You really think I'll like it?" The words barely made it past his lips, a near silent whisper in the quiet room.

Sam's arm curled snugly around Dean's shoulders, pulling him into his chest. "I really do. But you need to tell me if you don't or if you want to stop. I'm gonna do my best to read your face, but a lot of my focus is going to be on doing this right and not hurting you." Dean nodded. "C'mere."

Dean angled his head up to meet Sam's lips, exhaling a sigh of relief as they connected. He loved moments like these, the tender moments of just them, soft kisses and gentle caresses. He'd never tell Sam of course, but Dean was confident his brother could tell all the same.

They made out until Dean went lax, muscles draining of tension, body loose and pliant. Sam's kisses were consuming and Dean could do nothing but let the sensations take over. As Dean angled his hips to meet Sam's, hand tangled in Sam's hair, his brother worked at the button of Dean's pants, fingers quick to free him of the fabric.

Dean kicked the pants free of his feet and rolled his boxer-clad erection against Sam's leg, wiggling for Sam's hands to move and surging up to deepen the kiss. Sam gladly sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth and pushed at Dean's flannel, sliding it from his shoulders and off. Sam's hands quickly fell to the waistband of Dean's boxers to shove those off as well.

When Dean was left in only a t-shirt, Sam rolled on top of him, his hands roaming to Dean's sensitive spots and making him crazy, hips rocking to get them both hard. Dean moaned into Sam's mouth and pushed at Sam's shirt, near shredding the material in his eagerness. His brother's pants and underwear quickly followed.

It didn't take long for both of them to be rock hard and throbbing against each other between their bellies. Sam gave his hips a languid roll and slid down Dean's body, kissing down his neck and chest as he went, sucking marks into the skin there before dropping to his stomach and eventually his cock. Dean rocked his hips and moaned, surprised and so turned on by what Sam was doing. His brother pressed feather light kisses to the fire-hot skin of his cockhead and down the underside of his shaft, stopping to suck one ball and then the other into his mouth as he continued downwards.

"God, Sam, yeah." Dean groaned, fingers twined through Sam's hair, legs drawing up instinctively as if to clasp around his brother's head. Sam pressed gently on his thighs to keep them open.

"I love getting you hot," Sam growled. He thumbed over Dean's hole, grinning up at Dean and pulling away when he whined.

Dean scowled at him. Sam swatted Dean's ass and reached for the lube, coating a finger and pressing it to Dean's hole without venturing inside. Dean grunted at the cool sensation, happily angling his hips for Sam's easy access. Sam worked the slick around Dean's hole, massaging and relaxing the muscle before finally, finally sliding inside.

Another groaned "yeah" signaled Dean's appreciation. He thrust down against Sam's hand, hole twitching around the intrusion. After a few surges of Sam's hand, Dean wriggled his hips and shot his brother a pleading look. "C'mon, Sammy."

"I gotcha, Dean," Sam assured him, adding more lube and working in a second digit. Dean's eyes fluttered at the stretch, rolling back in his head as Sam crooked them to hit his prostate.

Dean's hips arched off the bed, a groan resonating through the room as Sam continued with the pressure on that sensitive area. "Fuck. Dammit, Sam." Dean growled through his teeth, knuckles turning white around the comforter clasped in his fist. His entire body sagged when Sam removed his fingers.

Peering down the length of his body, Dean sought Sam's gaze, wanting the connection in that moment, wanting to see as his brother continued fingering him. Sam met his eyes and offered a half-smile, kissing Dean's inner thigh as he circled Dean's rim with three fingers. "You good?"

Swallowing thickly, Dean nodded and squirmed on the bed. Sam's smile widened and he pressed in all three fingers to the webbing. Dean grunted and felt his breath hitch at feeling so full, Sam's thumb rubbing gentle circles over his balls. Sam spread his fingers as he pulled back, sliding in and twisting to stretch Dean's hole.

As Sam sank inside again with three fingers spread wide, Dean let loose a breathy little sigh and his hips rolled into the thrusts. The sounds he was making were so fucking embarrassing, but he couldn't stop them, couldn't keep himself from expressing how good it felt to have even a small part of Sam inside him. He tried biting his lip, but Sam's next thrust against his prostate dropped Dean's jaw and sent another loud moan echoing into the room.

"Let me hear you, Dean. I wanna hear how good you feel right now." Sam sucked another kiss into Dean's thigh and pulled his fingers free. He squeezed more lube onto his fingertips and worked in four of them, his eyes catching Dean's to gauge his comfort level.

Dean swallowed and hummed his pleasure, loving the stretch and fullness of having four of Sam's thick fingers inside him. Panting breaths lifted his chest to the rhythm of Sam's hand, all four fingers now. God, he was so full. It felt amazing. His cock was bobbing against his stomach, so hard.

Sam thrust and twisted all four fingers, stretching Dean nice and wide to prepare him for what would come next. Dean moaned at the thought. As hesitant as he'd been before, he wanted it badly now.

"Please, Sammy, come on. I want it. Come on." Dean's eyes were slits, lashes fluttering, his whole body flushed with pleasure.

Sam stared up at him, wide-eyed, a little shocked at Dean's pleas. "You sure, Dean?"

"Yeah," he grunted, hips lifting, seeking any friction or sensation they could reach. Sam pushed them back to the bed and ran a soothing hand over his stomach, fingers grazing Dean's cock and rocketing his need to a new level.

With one hand keeping Dean grounded, Sam used the other to aim the lube bottle at Dean's hole, squeezing it directly into his opening. Dean gasped and swore as the cold gel met heated skin, hips squirming as Sam used his thumb to press the lube further inside and tugged at Dean's rim. Dean groaned and huffed a breath at Sam, impatient and desperate for more.

Sam angled his fingers again at Dean's hole, still using four to make sure Dean was stretched enough. It wasn't long before he withdrew to just his fingertips and cupped his thumb to his palm. Dean stared down his body, eyes wide, breath frozen in his lungs as Sam pushed in slowly.

At first it was nothing new, the typical stretch of a few fingers, and then suddenly Dean could feel more pressure. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, wasn't any thicker than Sam's cock, but then it changed and Dean was being spread wider than he was used to, split open on the full width of Sam's fucking gigantic hand.

Dean whined, a high-pitched exclamation he'd never admit to making to his dying day, as the widest part stretched his hole, Sam's knuckles catching on his rim. Dean held his entire body extremely still, head thrown back on the pillow, digging in to match the pressure he was feeling. Sam clutched at Dean's thigh, pressing it out and up into Dean's chest to keep him open.

Before pushing any further, Sam stopped and pulled back some, calling Dean's attention. "Dean. Dean, are you absolutely sure?" Dean couldn't believe his brother was stopping now and yet it was such a Sam thing to do, Dean couldn't help but be pleased his brother cared so much. Unable to form words, Dean nodded, whimpering as Sam's fingers twitched inside him.

There was no way this could end now. Dean needed to see this through, needed to know what it was like to have Sam's whole hand inside him, to be full of his brother in a whole new way. He moaned and rocked his hips in a tiny motion against Sam's hand, cock hard against his stomach, legs splayed wide on the bed around Sam between them.

So overwhelmed with the need coursing through his body, Dean didn't notice right away when Sam continued, startled when suddenly the pressure returned and his hole was being nudged open by fucking enormous fingers and knuckles and holy fuck. The pressure didn't stop and there was burning and more discomfort than Dean was actually comfortable with. He huffed his way through it, cursing a string of profanities when Sam's hand glided the rest of the way inside.

As the burning eased somewhat, Dean stared wide-eyed at Sam, his brother looking back at him in amazement. In unison, they both looked down at Sam's hand embedded in Dean up to the wrist, a wheezing hysterical laugh bubbling from Dean's throat as he took in the sight.

"You're amazing," Sam breathed, his eyes unmoving from Dean's hole. Dean squirmed at the attention, gasping when the movement jostled Sam's hand. Sam finally broke his stare and gave Dean a half-smile.

Eyes locked on each other, Sam finally moved, ever so gently sliding deeper and then pulling back, the width of his hand pulling against Dean's rim, the length of his fingers fluttering over his walls and sending tingles through his body. "Fuck," Dean whispered, gaze shooting back down to where their bodies were joined. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh god, Sam."

"I know," Sam answered, nodding, his hand still moving in a slow slide in and out.

The pressure was indescribable. Where Sam's cock filled him deep inside, the girth mostly the same from base to tip, his hand was pressing against Dean's inner muscles in a whole new way, more wide than deep, though it was that too with how long his brother's fingers were. It was disconcerting and good all at the same time, and then Sam rotated his hand and Dean was lost, groaning loudly as fingers or knuckles or something grazed his prostate and shot pleasure through his whole body.

Sam's pupils were heavily dilated, lips pink and swollen from kissing but also from being bitten in concentration and his own need. Dean loved seeing Sam like that, overcome by what they were doing together, and raised a hand to graze his brother's cheek. Sam answered with a sweet smile and a kiss to Dean's palm.

The next time Sam moved his hand, he curled his fingers to form a fist. Dean gasped at the foreign sensation and went rigid, his whole body tensing in anticipation or to ward off discomfort, even he couldn't tell.

Dean's mouth dropped open, panting sharp breaths and letting out stifled grunts as Sam moved. Another twitch of Sam's fingers and his hand was settled in its new shape. "Ready?" Sam asked, eying Dean.

Dean breathed unsteadily. Sam's fist was inside him. Sam's hand was curled into a fist and pressing inside Dean's body. He was being fisted, holy fuck. Like Sam could sense Dean's growing hysteria, he soothed a hand over Dean's flank, cupping his hip and circling his thumb over the skin there. "You want me to keep going?"

Dean sucked in a breath, blinking. He nodded. Sam kissed Dean's inner thigh and still holding his hip, moved his fist, a gentle thrust that had Dean moaning and breathing a little easier.

As Dean settled into the motion, Sam continued, easing his hand in deeper and back in slow punches. "Yeah, Sammy," came the whispered moan, "feels good. S' good."

Sam didn't stop, gradually quickening his pace, punches of his hand coming more steadily, easing a little deeper. Dean moaned, a wavering sound that morphed into a sobbing howl as Sam's hand pressed against his prostate.

Dean's body was overwhelmed, so much sensation and all of it so new. He whimpered and rocked his hips into Sam.

"Feels good, huh Dean? So amazing for me, trying new things. So fucking good for me." Dean whined and avoided Sam's eyes, embarrassed at the same time as he was glowing at the praise.

And then Dean was surprised again when Sam changed what he was doing, his hand rotating as he punched inside, over and over and fucking over again. Dean strained his head back into the pillow, knuckles white where they held the fabric beneath him, his cock so achingly hard and throbbing. The new twist-punch motion Sam had going on was driving him crazy and his cock, bobbing untouched over his stomach was dribbling pre-come in streams like it never had before.

Now that Dean's muscles had some time to relax and adjust, Sam was moving a little quicker, a little harsher. The next time he retracted his fist, he pulled his hand further from Dean's hole than he had been, the base of his palm pushing past his rim and spreading him wide open again, before rotating and plunging back in for Dean's hole to close around his wrist.

Breath hitched in Dean's chest, another groan escaping his lips. He couldn't control the sounds he was making, couldn't stifle them at all because every time he tried to bite into his lip or close his mouth, another thrust, another twist against his prostate had his mouth dropping open and spilling sounds of his pleasure. It was fucking embarrassing – and exhilarating.

Sam pounded Dean's hole in quick thrusts, stretching him wide around his palm on each pull back and filling him full and deep on every surge forward. As he settled into a rhythm, Sam reached up to jerk his cock and Dean near vibrated out of his skin at the new contact. His cockhead was leaking pre-come like crazy, his balls tight and so sensitive. The combination of pressure and friction on his cock and his hole had him close to screaming.

Sam had to know it too, because his brother looked smug between his legs. Dean groaned as Sam jerked his cock and punched into his hole, and overwhelmed, Dean white-knuckled the sheets with one hand, the other clutching his side as if to hold himself together in some way.

Sam didn't stop, his pace unrelenting and Dean couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back, was fighting to keep breath in his lungs. It was so unimaginably good and Dean couldn't stop his hips from lifting into Sam's hand around his cock and jerking down to take his brother's fist deeper. It was so, so good and Sam didn't so much as stutter in his pace, fist thrusting into Dean, twisting, dragging against his rim, other hand pulling in quick strokes that were making him insane.

"That's it, Dean," Sam crooned.

Dean gazed down his body at Sam between his legs and met his brother's eyes. They were near black with arousal, pupils leaving only a thin hazel ring, and a devilish smile curled his lips.

Keeping his eyes trained on Sam's, Dean gave into the sensations overtaking him, his whole body tensing, unable to contain the cry as his cock spewed his release, pearly streaks coating his stomach.

Sam eased up the force of his thrusts, but continued the motion, slowly pumping his fist as Dean moaned through the aftershocks. When it became too much, Dean arched his back, his body trembling as he fluttered a hand at Sam's arm, murmuring "no more".

Hearing his brother's plea, Sam slowed to a stop, his hand still inside. Shushing Dean's whimper, Sam braced his free hand in the bend of Dean's leg where thigh meets groin. "Relax, Dean. I don't wanna hurt you. Relax."

Dean did his best to comply, fighting the oversensitivity and the need he was feeling to curl in on himself. Sam took advantage and pulled his hand free.

The second Sam's fingertips were free of his body, Dean went limp on the bed, overwhelmed and oversensitive and not knowing entirely how he felt in the moment other than euphoric. He absently noted Sam wiping his hand off and then felt his brother crawl up the bed. Sam situated himself comfortably on his side and pulled Dean against his chest. Dean vaguely registered that his brother was moving strangely in his vision and against his side, but he didn't know what to make of it.

It wasn't until Sam curled his arms around Dean and shushed him, that Dean realized it wasn't Sam that was moving. It was Dean who was shaking and taking gasping breaths.

"Shh, Dean." Sam murmured in Dean's ear. "Shh, baby, you did so good. Took my whole hand. I'm so proud of you. You're amazing, Dean."

Dean's breathing started to slow with Sam holding him and his brother's voice in his ear, and as the shaking eased, Dean curled tighter into Sam's chest, tucking his head under his chin and let Sam's heartbeat soothe him.