It was hard work. The tree had grown a considerable amount in the last half century. They had been certain they would be able to salt and burn the remains with plenty of daylight hours remaining but that was looking less and less likely. They were sure that Glummer was not just a night time apparition so, as one dug and cursed in amongst the trees numerous and twisted roots, one stood guard, watching.
They had talked at first about the old people's home and had promised each other that they would never do that to the other whilst neither admitted they were unlikely to be around that long. No matter what or who, human nature was pretty predictable. Even if you knew you were going to die and when, it was never a reality, it was always a distant possibility until the last breath.
And as he dug, the ricochet of hitting yet another solid root travelling up the shovel to his shoulders, Dean thought about such things. He had many reasons to want to live, not least that he did not want to die but now even more so as he wanted to be around for Sammy. The man needed his companionship, friendship and protection but also now that he had 'allowed', was that really the right word? Sam such closeness with him, intimacy, had allowed his brother to fuck, him he did not want to die because he had given Sam yet another reason to miss him. Dean had made it all so much worse because Sam obviously wanted him in that way and had possibly for a while now and, going through with the 'love making', he had given him a taste of something that he would come to miss.
He smiled to himself at his turn of phrase. Love making. There had been very little of that. No soft clinches or whispered endearments. It had been hard and fast and, passionate. That was the word he felt summed up the experience best, passionate. Once Sam had practically thrown himself on top of him in that bed, he had not let up until Dean had been aching, gasping for breath and could feel Sam on and in every part of him.
As he plunged his boot down onto the shovel forcing it into the earth once more, a soreness pulled inside him and he smiled afresh as it was as if Sam had left his presence to be felt. The remembrance of friction, fulfilment and that passion, caused pressure in his groin. Inconvenient but he was certain that once they were done here, Sam would take care of him. He carried on digging, a secret smile hidden as, his back to his brother, he knew he was being watched as well as the surrounding woodland.
Concentrate, damn it! Watch out for the bastard spirit that had put his disgusting hands on you and not where you want to put yours. Sam berated himself, turning away slightly and looking around them at the trees and the spaces in between. The closer they got to darkness, and the closer they got to finding what was left of Glummer, the more was the likelihood that it would turn up and neither brother needed any more convincing that he was brutally dangerous.
But the sight of the muscles moving under that skin as he worked the shovel! Had Dean taken his shirt then t-shirt off because he was hot or so Sam could watch him? If it was the later they had a serious problem because it could only mean that Dean wanted to distract Sam and Sam was distracted and that made their predicament all the more dangerous. Just look at that butt as he pushed down on the shovel.
It had become obvious to Sam in the bathroom that what he felt for Dean had changed. Of course he loved him, needed him and all that, which he already knew but he had discovered a great deal of ,well, plain old lust too. It was not just a longing for comfort, succour and closeness anymore. He wanted to fuck him and he wanted to do it now, here in that hole that Dean was digging so 'forcefully', wanted to take him right up against that tree even with the bones sticking out. Hang on.
"Dean. You've done it. You've found him," and that was the cue for seeing the axe descending. He threw himself to the side, landing on his back as the shotgun retort echoed around the small clearing.
"Watch for him, Sam!" as Dean frantically started digging with his hands, clearing away the soil and exposing a skull, bones and not much else the body having been there for so long. Another blast and he uncovered more. He suddenly found himself in a race, him to finish off Glummer against Glummer killing him and taking Sammy. He was certain that was the freaks plan. He unearthed more, not caring at the damage to his nails his hands snagging on bits of roots. He was determined now that the only one that was going to be taking Sam Winchester in any way, shape or form was Dean Winchester.
Back on his feet, Sam scanned the surroundings and, hearing a slight noise, managed to turn just in time, the gun firing and dispelling the figure yet again. He could not remember ever having so much trouble with a spirit before but his wonderings on how it was so strong were torn away as Glummer appeared right over Dean and he had not had time to reload. He threw himself at the figure, knocking him off balance as his arms holding that phantom, yet so solid, axe had been raised preparing the death strike on his brother.
It felt like he had rammed into a wall, the spirit just a solid mass that immediately wrestled him around. The breath left him in a whoosh as the figure knelt on his chest and he pleaded silently for Dean to hurry as a fist descended towards his face. A screamed "Sammy!" and the figure disappeared as Dean shot it but almost immediately it was back, this time dragging Sam along the ground, hands grabbing at his jacket catching the flesh on his arms in a vice.
Dean went to follow to fight to get his brother back but Sam was yelling. "Burn the bastard!" as he struggled within the grip. Quickly Dean turned, not wanting to lose sight of him but grabbed the pack of salt then the canister of gasoline and searching wildly for his shirt, damn he should not have taken it off, grabbing it from the ground, practically tore off the pocket to gain the lighter. He swore a curse at the remains of Glummer and threw the lighter on top of them.
Turning, running after his struggling, screaming brother Dean caught up to see Sam be picked up and carried off around the side off the shack. Damn, it was strong. He cornered the 'building' just in time to see Glummer finally be engulfed in flames and for Sam to slam painfully onto the ground. He rushed over fearful that somehow the fire would set light to Sam but as he reached him Sam was just a crumpled heap breathing heavily staring up at him. "Tell me he's gone. Dean! Please, tell me the bastards gone this time!"
He smiled down at him, "Yep." And extending a hand, pulled Sam to his feet, holding him until he was steady then grabbed him up in a bear hug. "Damn bro'! When you gonna stop being abducted?" and kissed the side of his face. "I'm getting' way too old to keep pickin' up your sorry ass!" and then just held him.
"I..ca…n't…breath!" pushing futilely at Dean's hands on his sides, face squashed against the others. An extra squeeze and Sam was released to stand dragging in air, hands on knees, looking up through his fringe at the manically grinning, dirt covered, sweat soaked, half naked figure before him. A few more lung's full of air and still on the adrenalin high, high on the charge from surviving yet another perilous situation, high on being here and alive, his expression changed for an instant and it was the only warning Dean got as Sam went for him.
It was that look again, so full of want, lust and desire that had Dean's prick hardening before he even hit the ground, Sam covering him, all over him, pinning him down as his brother pushed his arms over his head, holding them there as he ground onto him, his mouth captured and forced open by the pressure of Sam's lips, of his tongue pushing, surging in to find his own at the slightest opening. Dean's body thrust up into Sam then collapsed back to the hard earth he hardly felt as his legs were opening and coming up to surround the slim hips.
One hand still holding Dean's arms crossed above him, causing his torso to stretch and to lift up to him, Sam used his other to fumble then undo his own pants then kneeling back he raised a finger in command, "Stay," as Dean had moved to sit up and Sam grinned wickedly as he complied, lying back down. Sam watched him breathe, his chest rising and falling and wondered if his heart was beating as rapidly as his own.
He placed a palm over Dean's ribcage and yes, could sense his heart pounding beneath the surface. Dean was staring up at him, uncertain, impatient, anxious and begging all at once then his breath was sucked in and his body rose up as Sam slowly trailed his fingers down his stomach, along his belly to grasp at the fastening of his jeans. Sam considered a moment, then biting at his lower lip, enjoying the almost pained anticipation on Dean's face, had the man's jeans opened and pulled down to his boots and pushing his own down was immediately on him again.
Dean had never thought of himself as submissive but guessed he was as this was right, him being trapped, naked beneath a fully clothed Sam. The only part of him with no barrier was his hard prick pressing against his own making him want to pull his legs up and surround him but his ankles were 'tied' by his jeans, trapped underneath Sam's so long legs. Once more he brought his hands down, holding onto Sam's shoulders as the man kissed him on his jaw and all around his neck.
Sam pushed himself up to lean on tense arms, pushing himself onto Dean and as his brother came up with him, used one hand to knock him back. He slammed his brother's arms back over his head losing patience with him and stared into his eyes, face fixed but silently telling him to stay, then went back to tasting under that jaw, biting his neck, moving his hips pushing down possibly painfully on him. Sam was in no mood to be affectionate. He wanted to devour, to ravish.
The pressure on Dean was immense and Sam seemed, he did not want to think possessed as they knew the true meaning of the word but certainly, obsessed. He gave in and lay in the position Sam had last placed him and though he would have preferred to be someway involved in this, let his breath out and succumbed to the sensations that were basically being forced onto his flesh. He stretched himself as Sam's mouth moved over his chest, hissing as he captured and mauled a nipple forcing him to push his whole body upwards causing Sam to move.
There were spit covered fingers at his arsehole, one immediately pushing in giving him scant time to relax around it and he knew then that if he had thought before he could still feel Sam's presence, after this there would be no doubt. He was gasping as in no time at all long fingers were stretching him.
He was uncomfortable with this and not just physically but it was obviously what Sam wanted. His breathing, his actions, his continued kissing sucking of anywhere his mouth could taste him told Dean just how much Sam was consumed by him, wanted him. Needed him. He would not deny him. He felt compelled.
Enough. Sam pulled out his fingers and moved his hands, supporting him either side of Dean's waist and briefly noticed him draw his legs up now he was able and it just made it easier for Sam to line himself up and slowly, oh so slowly, begin to push himself into Dean's glorious body. He was burning up. He should at least take his jacket off but there was no time. He had been patient enough and now drove in and down onto the gasping, twisting figure beneath him, hands moving to hold Dean's hips down, spreading yet more dirt on the sweat slick body.
His breath left him as he settled, stretching out all along Dean, reaching up to hold tight to his wrists and seeing the somewhat pained expression, smiled slightly then bit gently at that corner of jaw and began to move on and in him, thankful for his extra height as he moved to capture Dean's mouth.
Dean's thighs clamped against Sam's unsure whether he was trying to still the forceful thrusting into him or encourage. As the kiss deepened, he felt his arms released as Sam leant up on bent arms, giving himself even more purchase and slowed to even deeper thrusts. Dean's arms came down once more and he held onto Sam's shoulders, fingers digging in clutching and kissed Sam as hard and savagely as he was being kissed. He would not be 'ordered' anymore and he needed to participate in this ultimately semi violent fucking.
The hands on his shoulders were painful but it just added fuel as Sam broke back from the kiss and staring into Dean's eyes, unaware of the almost venom on his own visage, rising up onto taut arms, he quickened his pace, driving in again and again, watching as Dean closed his eyes swallowing hard and turned his head away, his hands slipping down to clutch at his waist.
The tempo changed along with the atmosphere. Sam was not being 'passionate' anymore and Dean asked him to slow down, to be a little gentler but his words went unanswered. He was not enjoying it now. Sam was hurting him and he had an awful understanding that he was doing it on purpose. It was as if Sam was punishing him for something and that he did not understand at all. He hoped that this be over soon.
Sam moved again and although he slowed his assault, he seemed to gain strength and as he pushed in once more, Dean's whole body slid against the dirt, full of bit of wood and small stones. Tears were leaking from his eyes as he threw his head back, hands coming up under Sam's clothes to push at his chest.
Dean tried to push him off but Sam dropped his head, his face screwing up as he gasped out Dean's name, one hand holding him up, the other pushing between them to surround Dean's cock to squeeze and jerk him off. Sam was about to come deep inside his brother and could not leave him wanting. Not now while once more he was allowing him to take what he needed. Damn, it felt so good. Dean felt so good. He held on wanting to last as long as he could but also he needed Dean to cum with him.
Too many emotions and sensations were running through Dean. He could not get Sam off him without hitting him and even now that was not an option. He fell back trying to relax to ease all the pressures but his back arched as his hips independent of his mind pushed up into Sam's fist and he did cum and then thankfully so did Sam. He did not know which one of them sobbed out the loudest but he put a hand to his face covering it, not wanting Sam to see the despair written there.
But Sam was oblivious, lost in the final throes of his orgasm then collapsed down onto Dean's shuddering form, his hands moving around to embrace him, head on his chest as sliding from him, Sam lay exhausted, breathing rapidly with his own heartbeat drowning out the sound of the one beneath his cheek.
Sam snuggled against his older brother who unbelievably saved him so often, in so many ways. Opening his eyes, he saw the pendent and reaching slowly, held it up, playing with it as he stayed relaxed, comforted and content listening to Dean's heart once again and, smiling to himself, loved him.
Dean could not touch Sam. Arms up, one hand across his mouth, the other holding his forehead, he stared off to the side not wanting these thoughts in his head. If he moved and even looked at him he thought he would break. His legs hurt, his thighs hurt, his back hurt and more than anything, his insides hurt both physically and emotionally. His arsehole was on fire, he felt raw and torn inside but that was nothing compared to the pain in his heart right at this moment.
What could have possessed Sam to have wanted to hurt him so much? What the hell had he done to deserve to be used in such away? Sam had used him there was no doubting that. He had not given a thought as to what he might want or even if he indeed wanted at all, the way he had launched at him. Sam had just taken him. Dean continued to stare off, trying to dry his eyes out because if he did not he would cry. And they, Winchesters, did not do that. Hell, they should not be doing this. Especially not like this. A sob caught in his throat and he had to chough or choke. Then Sam lifted up and off him.
Pulling closed his jeans, Sam sat on the ground next to Dean, gazing down at him, placing his fingers in the centre of the bare chest slowly drifting them from side to side as he waited for Dean to come back to him from wherever he had gone, staring off into the distance. But he did not. Instead, Dean slowly put his hands at his sides and rolled away from him, awkwardly pulling up his pants. Sam went to help him, starting to brush off some of the dirt and bits that had attached themselves to his previously slick skin. There was a twitch and Dean stood up moving away from him mumbling something about being able to manage.
Sam stepped back and left Dean to it. It was not much of a surprise. His brother had been much the same after that first time in the bathroom, not wanting to look at him. And then again this morning until they had left the room and walked over to the diner. It was a big adjustment he supposed, having sex with your brother. He had managed it easily but then he was the instigator, he had been fantasising about it for a good few weeks now. Longer if he was really honest with himself.
He watched silently as Dean searched for, then retrieved his t-shirt from near the burnt out hole of Glummer's final resting place, shaking it out then somewhat stiffly pulling it on. He seemed to take a long time to pull out his pendent, rubbing it between his thumb and fingers before letting it drop into its accustomed place. Then Dean continued collecting and dressing in his shirt and jacket then just stood aimless not appearing to know what to do next.
Dean remained where he was, not wanting to go back to the motel but not wanting to stay here. He was conscious of Sam as he moved around behind him collecting their stuff up into the big duffle bag and throwing the cans into the hole then Dean moved off as Sam picked up the shovel and slowly, deliberately began to fill in the hole. He walked aimlessly coming to stand gazing at the ramshackle structure, the only remaining sign of all the grief of who knew how many stolen lives.
Could that be an explanation? Sam had been taken and Dean did not know what had been done to him in that dungeon and not a quarter of an hour ago he had nearly been captured again. In fact it had only been the incendiary saving him from who knew what abuse to come. He must have felt vulnerable and needed to get some power back. So had he taken it from Dean, the one that was always there ready and willing to give him what he needed. He did not know but that thought sat better with him, a hell of a lot better than Sammy wanting to hurt him, to punish him for something. Sam loved him, he knew that, but could he somehow hate him too?
"You coming or you gonna stay here all night?" Sam asked.
"Sure," he mumbled and without looking at him, still followed his brother back to the car. =====