Things finally start to heat up! Minor warning for a dub-con scenario – it's not technically sexual, but definitely not entirely innocent either. Just wanted to put the warning out there.
Sam found Dean with his head bent over the table when he came back to the room. "More porn, Dean?" he joked, kicking the door shut behind him and dropping his purchase onto the floor. He slid the bag under the bed with his toes.
Dean stilled and Sam heard the cover of his laptop click shut, looking up to see a smirk twist his brother's lips. Sam shook his head. "You wanna get dinner?"
"Sure thing Sammy. The diner 'round the corner sound good?" Dean stood and grabbed his jacket.
Looking down, Sam offered a shrug, making sure to keep his eyes away from Dean's. "I was actually thinking take-out. 'M kinda tired. Think you could go pick it up?"
Dean's eyes narrowed but he nodded, snagging the keys out of the air from Sam's toss. "I'll be sure to get you a nice greasy burger and chili fries."
"You do and you can sleep on the floor tonight," Sam promised. Dean flashed him the finger as the door swung shut. Waiting on the rumble of the Impala, Sam bounced his right foot on the floor. The thirty seconds it took for Dean to pull away were entirely too long. As the guttural roar of Dean's second love faded, Sam raced to the window, flipping the curtain aside just to be sure his brother was gone. When the car pulled around the corner, Sam opened the door and went around the side of the building. After he'd parked before, he'd stashed his bigger purchase along the side of the motel, knowing Dean couldn't see it before Sam had it in place.
Now, Sam lugged it inside and slid it under the bed, making sure Dean wouldn't be able to see it when he came through the door or sat at the table. Satisfied that his secret would remain that way until he was ready, Sam laid on the bed, stretching out to wait.
Later that evening, Sam waited impatiently for his brother to decide it was time to go to bed. He didn't want to look too eager and spoil his surprise, so he waited, and waited, and sighed when the night in front of the T.V. seemed to drag endlessly on.
He watched Dean from the side, counting the minutes under his breath and enjoying the way the glow of the screen bounced off of Dean's features, casting shadows on his cheeks. Dean's tongue swept over his bottom lip and then finally, Sam rolled to his feet, unable to wait any longer. He had to get this night moving along. "Gonna grab a shower Dean," he mumbled, dragging a hand through his hair and heading to the bathroom.
"M'kay," Sam heard from behind him. He shook his head and closed the bathroom door, turning the water on and climbing inside. The warm water helped steady his nerves and relax his muscles, rinsing away the grime of the day and helping Sam gather his thoughts. He'd need every bit of control he possessed to get through this night.
When Sam reentered the main room dragging a towel over his hair, he heard the sound of the T.V. shut off and the shuffle of his brother's feet across the carpet. "I'm gonna get in now. Be out in a few."
Dean barely looked up as he walked by and Sam encircled his wrist between his middle finger and thumb, gently dragging his lover's body into his. "Mmm, be quick," Sam smiled, pressing a kiss to Dean's lips. A smile lit Dean's face and he nodded, pulling back reluctantly and going into the bathroom.
As soon as Sam heard the water turn on, he dropped his towel to the floor and dropped to his knees by the bed, pulling out the bag from the craft store. Quickly, so Dean wouldn't come back before he was finished setting up, Sam pulled his purchases from the bag, fingering the silky swaths of black cloth. Sam pushed to his feet and tied the pieces of material in place, adjusting the lights in the room so they weren't too dark or too bright, and pulled the comforter and sheets back to the end of the bed before getting up on the mattress. Now all he had to do was wait.
The water shut off. Sam's breath hitched. A few minutes later, the door opened and Dean walked out in sweats and a t-shirt.
Sam smiled in invitation, holding out his hand, trying to breath as evenly as possible to keep Dean clueless for as long as he could. Dean grinned back and mounted the bed, sweeping his hand up Sam's side and lowering himself over Sam's body. A shiver slid up his spine and Sam cupped Dean's jaw, pulling him down into a kiss. Heat bubbled in his belly, and nothing could stop the groan that spilled from his mouth as his lover's lips claimed his. Dean's smaller frame pressed down on him and Sam had to force himself to keep his thoughts at least semi-focused. He needed to stay in control tonight or everything would fall apart.
Pulling back for a breath, Sam stared up at his brother. "Want you," he murmured, pressing his hand into Dean's lower back. He was almost sure his palm burned a hole through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. Leaning up to continue the kiss, Sam slid his hands into position, flicked his tongue to keep Dean distracted…and rolled.
He'd managed to catch his brother off guard and pressing his full weight down on Dean's body, he captured Dean's right arm and drew it over his head. Movements quick and sure, Sam soon had his brother's wrist trapped within the strip of black silk he'd purchased and tied to the bedframe. Not giving Dean much time to react, he grabbed the other arm and tied that one too.
Dean's body bucked beneath him, jerking as he tried to pull his arms down. When Sam chanced a glance at Dean's face he saw confusion gracing his brother's features. It wasn't until Sam started cutting away Dean's clothes with a slyly stashed knife that Dean's expression morphed into one of pure anger. Sam could feel it radiating from his brother's eyes and his now trembling muscles and winced. He knew Dean wouldn't be happy with him, but he hadn't prepared himself for the guilt. Throat feeling tight, Sam stared down at Dean.
"What the fuck are you doing, Sam?" Dean snapped, arms still straining against the fabric. "Let me go!"
Using two fingers, Sam swept over Dean's chin and up his cheek, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain calm. "I can't do that," he whispered.
The telltale tic started in Dean's jaw. "And why is that?" The words were clipped, short. Sam knew Dean would snap soon.
"I want you to trust me, Dean."
Dean laughed, the sound nothing like his usual husk, but higher pitched and sarcastic. "Trust you?"
Sam just nodded, tracing Dean's jawline again and cupping his cheek. "Yeah Dean. I know you trust me on the job. We wouldn't work together like we do if you didn't. It's not that kind of trust I'm talking about." He sighed. No matter what he said, Dean would fight him on this. He knew that – didn't change how much he hated hurting his brother, feeling like he was betraying him. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"
Dean froze. "What? Is this some kind of kinky trip for you? Fuck, Sam! I told you to let me go!" Sam could see the panic starting in his brother's eyes. The muscles in his arms bulged, pulling frantically against the restraints.
"Not a kink, Dean. You are so beautiful, but I don't think you see it. No matter how much other people tell you, how much I tell you, you still don't see it do you?"
Short breaths puffed against Sam's face. "What are you talking about? Sam, let me go!" Dean's legs finally came to life under Sam and fought to dislodge Sam's larger frame. "I don't want this Sam! Let me go!"
Sam felt tears gather in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you Dean. I'm not going to hurt you, but I can't let you go." He swallowed. "I know you're angry with me; I get that. I do. But I want you to see what I do when I look at you. This isn't about sex – not at all; it's just about you really seeing yourself. You hide from me, from everyone, and you pretend that everything's okay, but I know it's not. It took me until a couple nights ago to really see that." Sam had to stop for a moment, take a breath to keep himself together. He saw the panic still raging in Dean's eyes, eyes darting, trying to find a way out. "Dean, baby…" Dean's eyes zeroed in on Sam's. "You always trust me to have your back. You trust me with your life. So why can't you trust me with your body?"
Dean reared back against the mattress and pillows like he'd been slapped. His eyes were wide in his face making him look like a child. Sam just wanted to hold him.
A moment later, Dean's face crumpled, eyes filling with tears. "Let me go, Sammy. Just let me go! Please…" The words came out in a pained moan.
Keeping his leg tight over both of Dean's, Sam gently slid his body down to the mattress on Dean's right side. He pressed a kiss to his brother's cheek, closing his eyes against the desperation he saw in Dean's.
"I love you. As angry as you are with me right now, I want you to remember that."
Sam traced a finger over Dean's lips, pressing gently against the pink flesh and whispering softly. "I love your lips Dean – they're stunning. I know sometimes you hate them, think they're like girl's lips, but that couldn't be more wrong. You know what I see?" Sam husked. "I see lips that are sexy as all fucking get out. When you smile at me, it turns me on. When you bite them, I want to grab you and lick the sting away. When you lick them, I want them on me – it doesn't even matter how. And once they're on me, there's no comparison to anyone else on the planet. You can give someone more pleasure with your lips alone then most people could give with their whole bodies." He paused briefly, continuing to trace the outline of Dean's lips.
"You know what else? I see the way you use them to brighten someone else's day with a smile, the cocky smirk you use as a challenge. I see the skill they have at making jokes, at forming insults and the Latin we use on the job, and even more than that, I see the ability they have to tell me I'm being a bitch one minute and then to tell me how much you love me in the next."
As Sam spoke, he watched the confusion flicker over Dean's face, the way he tried to turn away from the words, to distance himself from Sam. Sam wasn't having that and so he held Dean's cheek and pulled him around to face him, keeping him there until he finished speaking. When the words finally stopped, Sam leaned in and pressed one lingering kiss to Dean's lips. Dean remained still, but Sam detected a slight tremor of movement as he pulled away.
Holding Dean's gaze, Sam lifted his finger again, watching his brother's eyes close as this time he traced over Dean's eyelids one at a time.
"You're eyes are beautiful too, Dean. They're the most striking shade of green I've ever seen, bright like liquid jade on some days. And so expressive you could tell me anything you're thinking without ever opening your mouth."
During Sam's speech, Dean had gone completely still. Though his entire body was still full of tension, almost vibrating with it, he'd stopped pulling against the ties. He kept a wary eye on Sam, hands curled into fists above his head. Sam once more leaned down, and this time dropped soft kisses over each of Dean's eyes, relishing the flutter of his lashes with each press of lips.
Barely pulling back, Sam grazed his lips down the side of Dean's face, lifting one hand to drag a finger over his cheekbones. "You should know I love your cheeks just as much as the rest of you. It sounds silly, but they can be just as expressive as your eyes. I can tell so much about you just from what color they are." Sam's lips brushed Dean's skin, the feather-light sweeps making Dean shiver.
"When they're pale I can tell you're hurting, even if you won't tell me yourself, and all I want to do is hold you. And when they're a deep red, it tells me that you're embarrassed about something." Pausing, Sam relished the red splotches appearing on his brother's freckled face. "Other times, when they turn more pink, I can tell how turned on you are." Sam leaned in closer, lips brushing Dean's cheeks as he spoke. "But the color I like best is between the two, a lighter red, not quite pink that tells me you're feeling something sappy but don't know how to say it. It's beautiful."
Sam kissed each cheek as he finished speaking. Dean's eyes were closed this time when Sam pulled back. "Sam?" His voice came out warped through his tight throat, sounding so much younger than Sam had heard in years. "Please let me go."
Dropping his forehead to meet Dean's, Sam blew out a soft breath. "Oh Dean, I wish I could baby. I just want you to see how gorgeous you are. You don't have anything to hide, especially from me."
"Why are you doing this to me? Sammy, I don't–" His voiced choked off, eyes glistening with tears.
Sam had to force back his own tears. "You don't see yourself clearly Dean. What do you see in the mirror? Is it anything like what I just explained to you?" He searched Dean's face, watching closely. "If you can tell me honestly that you do, that you see someone beautiful looking back at you, then I'll untie you."
The angry tic reappeared in Dean's jaw, throbbing as he stared back at Sam. His arms pulled against the restraints. "Let me go!"
"When I'm through showing you how stunning you are." Sam replied firmly, but as gently as possible and carded his fingers through his brother's damp hair.
Tears leaked down the sides of Dean's face, fingernails biting into his palms, and red rings forming on his wrists from pulling against the ties. "Why is this so damn important to you? Fuck!"
Sam watched Dean writhe on the bed and even as his body recognized how hot it was, Sam just felt sad. He stroked his hand up Dean's flank, hoping to soothe his brother in some way. "You wanna know why it's important? It's important because I hate seeing you so down on yourself. You walk around with a cocky grin on your face most of the time and flirt with women fucking constantly, but it's all a front. For whatever reason, you don't like yourself, don't think you're attractive or worth it, and I can't let that go Dean. I just can't."
Sam searched Dean's face. He just wanted Dean to see the truth. His brother's brows drew together and Sam felt his heart shatter in his chest at his brother's next words. "Why?" Dean managed, the words sounding strangled. "We have sex! It's not like I'm depriving you of anything!"
Sam felt like he'd been stabbed and shot and then punched in the heart all at the same time. "Is that what you think this is?" His voice came out in a near whisper, all the air knocked out of his lungs. He forced a deep breath to keep himself from collapsing. "You think all I care about is the sex – what I can get out of this? Fuck, Dean! I don't care about the sex! I want you to see how truly perfect you are, to realize that you don't have to hide from me or anyone else. God, Dean." Sam bit his lip and dropped his head, fighting the urge to shake Dean until his words found a way through his thick skull.
Looking back up, he locked eyes with Dean. "I want you to really listen to what I'm saying. Cause I know you hear me, but I don't think you're listening. I love you and you. are. beautiful…in so many ways." Dean turned his face into his arm.
Sam hated that Dean hid from him and turned his chin back to face him. "I'm just gonna keep telling you until you believe me, Dean." He watched his brother's face crumple within his grip and felt the tremble of his jaw, glassy eyes staring back at him. "I love you so much Dean and it kills me that you don't see how amazing you are," Sam whispered, his own eyes glazed with unshed tears.
Dean's chin trembled harder, despite how hard Sam knew his brother was fighting it, and Sam leaned down to kiss him, hovering for a moment before sinking down and sealing their mouths together. It was a gentle kiss, no more than a press of lips, no tongue or heated passion, just all the love Sam could possibly share with his brother in one simple moment. He pulled back, brushing one more kiss to Dean's lips, and then peppered kisses up the side of his face. Sam breathed in his brother's scent and leaned away, watching as a tear leaked out of Dean's eye. He stroked a hand through Dean's hair and bent back in, kissing away the wet streak.
"You know what else I find absolutely gorgeous?" Sam whispered, trailing a hand down the side of Dean's neck and up the backside of his shoulder, sweeping up to rest on his forearm, pulled taut with the restraint. "These. Right here," Sam said, squeezing the skin where his hand had stopped. "Your arms…Fuck, Dean, sometimes it's like watching porn the way your muscles ripple. But more than that, it's the strength in them. The way they help people, the way they comfort them."
Sliding his hands further up Dean's arms and matching his palms to Dean's clenched fists, Sam continued. "Your hands are pretty awesome too, Dean. As sharp as they are with a pool cue," Sam worked at unbending the curled fingers, "they're the most generous hands I've ever seen – quick to help people, to rescue them, calloused from working so hard for everyone but yourself".
Sam continued to whisper his praises to Dean, skating his fingers over skin, feeling out the smooth and calloused edges, brushing over scars and wounds that never quite healed right. Every time he finished worshiping one part of Dean's body, Sam would kiss the skin there, injecting that piece of his brother with all the love he could muster, moving on moments later to caress and praise another beautiful piece. He moved up and down his brother's body, refusing to give in to his body's growing need or his brother's desire to be released.
As Sam covered more of Dean's body, his older brother relaxed in increments, the tension slowly receding until Sam didn't feel like he was holding onto a brick wall anymore. There was no capitulation from Dean, no agreement that what he was saying was true, but Sam could feel the resistance weakening, the longing in his brother to believe him.
Hushed praises traced up arms and fingers, slipped over Dean's chest and the area that contained his heart, squeezed down muscled thighs and strong calves, to finally brush over the ticklish arches of calloused feet. Sam left Dean's groin as the last piece, knowing he needed to address this part of his appreciation the right way or he'd lose any bit of progress he'd managed to make with his brother. Dean's body shivered, oversensitive from Sam's caresses. He still refused to fully meet Sam's gaze, but seemed to know where Sam was heading, his muscles tensing, waiting.
As Sam brushed two fingers gently over the sensitized flesh of Dean's half-hard cock, he watched his lover's face, hoping it would remain slightly open. "You know this part of you is just as beautiful as the rest," he whispered, resting his chin on Dean's chest, hand stopping the caress and coming to rest on Dean's hip.
"That's what I've been told," Dean tried to joke, eyebrows waggling half-heartedly. Sam breathed deeply and continued.
"Don't you ever get tired of playing the clown?" Sam asked softly, eyes sad. Dean's eyes seemed to shutter at the rebuke. "I'm being serious, Dean. And I'm not talking about how big you are or how long you can hold out. Yeah, those things are positives too, but you're missing the point. It's not beautiful because it's big, it's beautiful because you use that part of you to connect with people. Sometimes that's your way of sharing yourself, the part of your body and the piece of your heart you know you can share without being rejected. Don't forget that I know you, Dean. I've watched you and looked up to you my whole life. When things get tough, you seek out sex, attention, whatever you want to call it, from other people. When Dad started expecting more of you, pushing you harder, you starting running after the girls in every town we went to."
Shaking his head, Sam paused, realizing he'd gone off on a bit of a tangent. He met Dean's eyes. "Your cock may look good, but it's beautiful because it's your way of sharing yourself and your love and how you're feeling." Sam finished his final speech with a kiss, pressing his lips just barely against the spongy head of Dean's cock.
Dean's hips rocked, but Sam pressed them back, sliding his body to rest alongside his brother's once more and searching out Dean's gaze. He found slightly glassy eyes and brushed a hand through the short strands of hair at Dean's temple.
"So I guess you think I'm pretty spectacular huh?" Dean's tone was jokey, but stifled by the tears Sam knew were clogging his throat. Pressing his lips together to prevent himself from snapping at his brother, Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, only opening them again when he knew he wouldn't say something he'd regret.
"Yeah Dean, I really do." He rested his forehead against Dean's cheek. There was a long moment of silence, eventually broken by a groan. "What's wrong?" Sam pulled back and noted the flush coloring his brother's cheeks. A quick scan and Sam knew what the problem was. He also knew he wasn't going to fix it, not right now. "This wasn't about sex, Dean. You understand that? I didn't touch you, didn't do all this to get you hard. When I let you go, you can take care of that if you want, but I'm not, I won't…"
Already flushed cheeks blushed more deeply, green eyes turning away from him. Dean just acknowledged the ramble with a small nod. Leaning forward, Sam sealed his lips over Dean's, gently taking his brother's mouth, before pulling back and reaching up for the silk ties. He released one hand and stopped, bringing the arm slowly down and massaging the reddened skin of his wrist. "I know you're probably not too happy with me right now, but I want you to promise me not to run. When I take your other arm down, I want you to stay here. You don't even have to talk to me right away, just please don't leave." Sam knew it was a long shot, knew he'd be lucky if Dean spoke to him in the next week, but he asked anyway.
Jaw clenched and gaze turned away, Dean nodded sharply. Sam sighed in relief, tucking the first arm against Dean's chest and reaching for the second one. When both arms were free and Sam had rubbed the feeling back into them both, Dean pulled his arms close to his chest and rolled over, turning his back to Sam. Sam closed his eyes against oncoming tears. "I love you Dean," he whispered, the words barely audible in the near silent room.
Sam didn't expect a response, so he was excited and at the same time horrified when he heard a sob echo in the room. "Oh Dean." Sam laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, brotherly instincts unable to let him ignore Dean's pain. Lying down beside Dean, his hand the only point of contact with his brother's body, Sam offered as much support as he could from a distance.
After a few long minutes of feeling his brother shake beside him, Sam scooted across the mattress, pressing his entire left side against Dean's back. Seconds later, Sam had an armful of sobbing brother. In so much emotional pain, Sam guessed Dean couldn't resist the comfort and accepted his tearful lover into his arms. Dean clung to him and Sam just pressed his brother's face into his neck and wrapped his arms as tightly around his back as he was able.
Wet tears smeared over Sam's collarbone, but he didn't care, didn't care that the skin of his chest was pinched in a desperate grasp, didn't care that a sharp knee was digging into his thigh. All he wanted was for his words to sink in and for his brother to finally get it – finally understand that he was beautiful and worth everything. If this was what it took, Sam would hold his brother for days on end without ever loosening his hold.
As Dean lay in Sam's arms, Sam rubbed his fingers through the fine hairs at Dean's nape, brushing in a rhythmic motion to soothe his brother like he'd once soothed Sam. From outside the window, Sam heard the raised voices of a couple outside, the stomp of boots and the clack of heels on concrete. He waited until the noises faded. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Dean's hair, continuing the soft strokes against his neck.
Dean sniffed and seemed to burrow his face deeper into the recess of Sam's shoulder. After a long moment, Sam finally heard Dean's breath hitch as if he were about to speak. "You mean it?" The words were almost pitiful, so full of hope, but said so softly Sam had to strain to hear them. He knew Dean wasn't talking about his apology, but the praises he'd whispered over his brother's body. It wasn't the first time that night Sam felt like the breath was knocked from his lungs. Even after all that, after everything they'd been through together, Dean still didn't – couldn't, believe how valued he was.
Forcing the words out through a tight throat, Sam told Dean, "I mean it. Every word I said." Sam felt his brother inhale and then nod shakily against him.
It certainly wasn't perfect, wasn't what Sam wanted, but he knew Dean would need more time and more reinforcement before he really started to believe what Sam wanted him to. Yeah, it wasn't perfect, but it was a small step. Sam would take it. For now.
Pressing a kiss to Dean's temple, Sam murmured, "Rest, Dean." For a little while, that small bit of progress would have to be enough. And over the next couple days he'd start the second part of his plan. Dean kissed Sam's throat and curled somehow tighter against his chest.
AN: Now that the first part of Sam's plan is complete, tell me how you think it went. Hopefully Sam wasn't too sappy here, but I wanted him to be intense about what he was saying and of course he had to be serious or Dean would be able to laugh it off too easily.