Dean had serious reservations and downright guilt about his brother being his lover, until that first winter hit. There'd been the time before Stanford, but that was more dabbling, no real serious relationship, exploration and curiosity, lust and comfort. This however, this was something entirely different, what evolved between them in the time between Sam leaving Stanford and now.

Sam seemed to have no such worries. In fact the kid actually smiled now more than he scowled, and Dean saw those dimples on a regular basis. That alone was worth his bit of guilt. What really pushed Dean over the edge from 'what the hell am I doing with my brother?' to 'who cares, it's just us and we're happy with it' wasn't any great revelation, or Sam's assurances.

It was the weather.

Maybe an odd thing for something so life altering and important, but it was the weather that made him see what a great thing he and Sam had. It was the first snow of winter, in Wyoming no less, and yeah, it's freaking cold in Wyoming in October, especially when one had no heat. Except Dean and Sam made plenty of their own heat, and that first frigid morning waking up with Sam tucked against him, both of them warm and snug under a pile of blankets, safe and together drove those points home in Dean's mind, slapped him upside the head with them in fact.

Dean figured it was kismet, or karma, or whatever that had them stuck in a freak snow storm, with no heat, and nothing but each other for warmth, to realize loving his brother, showing it, and them both getting pleasure from it wasn't bad. Not at all. There were a lot of lonely people in the world, but not them. It couldn't be bad. Dean went from feeling guilty to lucky in one freezing morning.

So when Dean woke up just before dawn on another frosty October morning years later (this time in Michigan, really they had to plan this shit better) Sam's hair splayed over his chest, an arm around Dean's waist and warm body all over Dean's, not only was he guilt free, he was pretty darn happy. And warm. Here he was, Dean Winchester, great hunter, slayer of demons...and the world's most dangerous pillow. Honestly, becoming Sam's pillow was the single greatest thing that ever happened to him.

In fact Dean loved being Sam's pillow. He loved being a few other things for Sam too. For a guy who'd argue every point of everything with Dean, the fact Sam practically purred with sexual submission left Dean a bit dizzy some days. The idea Sam trusted him so completely was more than a little bit of a rush. The fact Sam wanted to please Dean so completely was beyond erotic.

Well that and the fact little brother Sammy had some kink going on.

At first the discovery Sam got off on some rough handling surprised him, but Dean knew exactly how far to push, flexed his control more and more. Pushed and backed off in a steady rhythm through their days and nights. A few times Sam had, in some quiet way, asked Dean to hand him over to some stranger for a few months now. Not often, but he'd been more eager and last night expressed it twice. Dean understood he'd be in control of the entire situation. He also understood, Sam probably wouldn't ask again. Dean said he'd think about it and he was. He'd either decided yes or no and Sam would live with his decision.

His brain wasn't too sure. The fact that he had an immediate raging, near exploding hard-on just thinking about Sam sucking cock, having his sucked, by a stranger all while Dean controlled the action lead him to believe the rest of him was in agreement. He wasn't sure it'd be a regular thing, but maybe he'd let Sam try it once or twice. His boy had needs, it was up to Dean to fulfill them.

Shifting a bit, shoving against Sam's side to move his hips up and over, get some friction and nice warmth and pressure…there…yeah! Sam mumbled something incomprehensible against Dean's chest and drifted back to sleep. Dean stroked his hair, let him sleep on, willing to wait until Sam was awake, satisfied with the heat from his brother's body against his cock for now.

The whole thing, in the bar, in the car, in their room, last night had been exhilarating. Dean didn't need ropes or gags. It made his cock twitch thinking how he needed nothing other than words and touches. Fingertips skimming the red marks along Sam's jaw, the marks Dean put on him, made him smile. He ran one thumb down the length of Sam's neck, traced the ring of bruises under the silver choker lying against Sam's skin.

When Sam stirred again, Dean rubbed a hand over his shoulders and back lightly. Rough handling was best when intermingled with gentle and subtle. Sam's leg moved, he stroked Dean's foot with his own, making Dean moan softly and smile more. In a few days Sam would be getting plenty of firm, rough handling, today was for something entirely different.

Warm lips pressed to his sternum, followed by the tip of a tongue flicking over his skin. Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair, caressing with more pressure and sighed a rumble from deep in his chest. His fingers skimmed between Sam's neck and his choker, pulling a soft whimper from Sam. Wet, sloppy kisses trailed down Dean's abdomen, followed by hands pressing against his skin, massaging the muscles of his sides and pecs.

As Sam inched down, he reached up, rested one hand on Dean's nipple, applying gentle pressure. Dean stretched and arched a bit into his brother's touch, rubbed small circles in the back of Sam's hand for a few seconds. The word hadn't been spoken, but Dean understood a please when he felt one. As Sam's fingers teased and circled his nipple, steadily applying more pressure, Dean's breath caught and stuttered a few times.

Sam's mouth worked down, he licked over Dean's thighs, across the spot where his hip and body met, sucking enough to feel, not enough to leave a mark. Slowly dragging his hands down, Sam pressed his thumb next to the base of Dean's cock, rubbing the tender skin, sending tendrils of warmth through Dean to settle in his balls.

Pushing his nose through the curls of Dean's groin, Sam licked the skin under his cock, over his hips, down his legs, over and over. With each swipe from Dean's thigh to his hip, Sam's tongue darted along the line of his balls. Gentle nudges to Sam's jaw, a soft hand running through his hair answered another silent request.

"Go on." Dean mumbled. Then moaned a soft, "Hmm, nice," when Sam's lips slipped over his balls, pushed around and took Dean's entire sack into his mouth.

Wet warmth surrounded him, traveled up his spine to slip from his lips in a deep groan. Dean spread his legs to give Sam room. Tongue slipping and sliding over Dean's sensitive skin, Sam gently rolled Dean's balls in his mouth, sighing and moaning. Sam's hands shifted to Dean's hips, pressing flat. Moving down, Sam licked behind Dean's balls, swirled his tongue all around again.

Tentatively Sam flicked his tongue along the base of Dean's cock, circled, then he dragged his tongue pressed broad and flat up Dean's length. His thumbs pressed against Dean's hip bones, moving in small strokes. He lifted his head far enough to catch Dean's eyes. Sam's were dark and hungry, looking at him from under disheveled bangs.

Dean smiled, knowing what Sam was asking. Without taking his eyes from Dean's he stretched and dipped his head, pressed a kiss to the skin just under Dean's navel, then nuzzled his cheek in Dean's groin.

That was a definite please.

Dean saw no reason to deny Sam.

Brushing a hand through Sam's hair, Dean pressed his thumb to Sam's jaw. His hand slid down and gripped Sam's collar with enough pressure to barely bite into his skin and moved him just a fraction toward his cock.

With a smile, Sam took Dean into his mouth, tongue swirling over the head of Dean's weeping cock, sucking him deep into the heat of Sam's mouth. One husky groan followed another out of his mouth as Dean arched up into the hot of his brother's mouth. Sam hummed, licked and sucked, knowing just the right amount of pressure, the right spots to hit. The tip of Sam's tongue circled the underside of the crown of Dean's cock.

Dean's fingers gripped and loosened in Sam's hair, "Use your fingers if you want," he panted out.

Sam slid one hand between Dean's legs, caressing and fondling his balls.

Breath stuttering, he gripped Sam's hair more, though didn't control how he moved, gave Sam his freedom this time. A soft tug, though he figured Sam knew he was about to come by how he changed his rhythm, pressed down farther, relaxed his throat and took everything Dean had to offer. Holding Dean's legs with just enough grip to keep from being thrown off as Dean bucked and jerked beneath him, Sam milked every bit of semen, rode with Dean's orgasm until he dropped flat, panting and gulping air into his lungs.

Stroking Sam's head, Dean didn't do anything to slow his hammering heart or quiet his harsh breathing. Sam curled between his legs, cheek resting against Dean's thigh, hips twitching, entire body trembling.

Fingers curling around Sam's arm, Dean managed a, "C'mere." He squeezed the arm in his grasp, but didn't have to do too much more.

Sam slithered up, stretching long body and legs flush against Dean. Moving Sam's warm, plaint body around until his back rested against Dean's chest, head dipped back over his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to Sam's temple, pushing his hair away from his face.

"Suppose you think you deserve some kind of reward now." Dean kept his voice low. How his voice and breath made Sam's cock jerk had Dean smiling warm and easy.

Sam twisted enough to kiss the length of Dean's neck, "No." He nibbled softly at Dean's ear, "But it'd be nice."

"Hmm." Dean pressed his lips to Sam's ear, blew hot, moist breath against it. Sam squirmed over him, satisfactorily rolling his hips up, rutting against air. Wrapping his arms around Sam's middle kept him anchored against Dean, no friction anywhere Dean didn't provide it.

Using one finger, Dean pressed just his fingertip to Sam's swollen cock, moving it up and down once. Sam groaned and moved his hips side to side in a desperate effort to follow Dean's finger when he pulled away.

He waited a few beats before rumbling in Sam's ear, "You're a good boy." Using the tip of his nail he skimmed around the rim of Sam's cock, circling slowly down and back up. Precome leaked, falling in large, flat drops to Sam's belly. Sam gasped and arched up, his body bowed for seconds before he sank down. His cock jerked when Dean moved his finger around it, making circles from head to base.

Pulling his hand away, denying Sam orgasm, Dean rubbed Sam's chest, played first with one nipple until it was hard, then repeated with the other. Sam rubbed the heels of his hands against his own thighs.

"But I know you jacked off in the shower the other day," the pad of Dean's finger moved over Sam's cock again, up and down lightly until his brother writhed and whimpered against him. He took his finger away when Sam's cock jerked and twitched, slit leaking. This time he pressed two fingers to Sam's base, again staving off his orgasm.

"I…Dean."

Using his fingers in Sam's hair to move his head to the side, Dean licked along Sam's jaw, bit his lower lip. "Not sure I said you could do that."

"Sor-sorry…I couldn't help…was watching you work on the car."

Dean laughed, the sound catching low in his throat. He rubbed his lips over Sam's cheek, then spoke into his ear, at the same time taking Sam's hand in his own. "I want to see what I missed. You want to touch yourself for me, Sammy?"

"Yes…Dean."

He guided Sam's hands to his balls, "Go on, but just your balls." Sam fingered himself, tugging and rolling himself between his fingers and thumb.

When Sam's legs pulled up, bent at the knees, his hips humping up and down, rubbing his ass against Dean's leg harder and more frantic, he gripped Sam's wrist, pulled his hand away. "Not yet."

Sam mewled, body pressing against Dean's. Desperate noises burbled from the back of his throat, pleading for Dean to allow him release. Leaving Sam's fingers against his own balls, Dean wound his fingers through Sam's other hand, moved it from his leg and settled both their hands against Sam's swollen, throbbing cock.

He set an excruciatingly slow pace. Leisurely moving Sam's hand up and down his cock, twisting and tugging, but not touching the crown or weeping tip. Sam moaned and stretched, pulled his knees up, then stretched out again, hips moving rhythmically.

"Hmm…" Dean used his thumb against Sam's hand holding his balls to push down gently, keeping them from pulling in, using Sam's fingers to caress and roll them.

He pulled up sluggishly on Sam's cock, while at the same time pressed down against his balls. Sam's head pressed back over his shoulder, his tongue darted out to slid along Dean's neck.

"Ya know, maybe I should leave you hard and aching."

Sam kissed Dean's neck, nibble his ear. His hips gave another roll upward. "Please…Dean…please."

Dean swiped Sam's thumb over the tip of his cock forcing a deep groan from Sam's mouth. A shudder ran through him to vibrate against Dean's chest. "Keep you wanting." Dean smiled against Sam's ear, brushed his lips over his cheek. "Nothing till I say so."

None words babbled out of Sam, he arched off Dean again his chest and neck flushed red.

Dean circled his and Sam's fingers around Sam's cock again, other hand pushing down against Sam's balls. Picking up the pace with each stroke, Dean nipped at Sam's jaw and neck. Sam's head pressed back against his shoulder, moans and whimpers left his mouth in a steady stream.

Pulling Sam's balls with more force away from his body and at the same time fisting Sam's cock hard and tugging up, Dean whispered in Sam's ear. "Give it to me, Sammy."

Entire body spasms joined with the hot, white stream shooting out of Sam to cover his chest and the desperate, strangled shouts from Sam. Arching and pumping faster into Dean's hand, Dean worked their hands over his brother's cock until it was soft and Sam was spent.

Dean's hand left Sam's balls, wrapping firmly again around his waist and hanging on tight while Sam's body jerked and twitched then relaxed against him, melting against Dean.

A few long minutes later, Sam sighed, kissed Dean's chest and mumbled out a, "Be right back."

Dean watched as Sam lumbered to the bathroom, back a minute later with a warm cloth, wiping down first Dean then himself. Dean patted the bed and Sam smiled broadly at him. Tossing the cloth at the bathroom, Sam was once again wrapped around him, Dean's arms wound around Sam's shoulders.

Yeah, some more firm, rough handling was in order in a day or two, but for now there were a few more hours to sleep, his boy tucked against him, compliant and willing.

End