Driving back Dean shifted but could not get comfortable and it did not help having Sam sat there turned to him smiling at him. He kept his face neutral. He had no idea how he was going to get past this. He would have to he knew, because damn sure he was not going to be able to leave.

The yellow eyed demon, speaking through his father, had known long before he had how much more he needed his brother than the other way around. He had always done what he thought was right, what was expected of him.

Dean had followed his dad's every wish, done as he commanded and on the very few occasions that he had rebelled, had regretted it. He had not always gotten approval in return, seldom if he truly thought about it but had craved it and still did. Dad was gone but Sammy was here and he found that, yes, he was submissive. He was subordinate to Sam. His whole being was designed to be with Sam, to protect him, make him happy. Not a new realisation by any stretch but this new development kind of meant that he was the 'bitch' no matter how many times he called his brother that. Damn.

The ride had been in silence and on entering the motel room, Dean had immediately headed into the bathroom. Sam had followed meaning to 'tend' to Dean in cleaning him up but a hand pushed him away and he found himself against a quietly shut door. This was not good. Dean had been reticent before but not this bad. Sam moved to sit on the bed and wait.

Something was wrong, putting aside all the amoral incest stuff. Something was wrong between them and he struggled to think what it could be. They had finally put down the spirit and gone on to 'celebrate'. Sam smiled in memory. Damn sight better than a few beers and a good meal. He lay back closing his eyes. The feel of that body under him, around him, responding to him. There was nothing like it. 'Don't be long Dean', he thought as he started to stir again.

Getting up, he moved to the bathroom door and knocking loudly pushed the door but it was locked. "Let me in," he called, a smile in his voice.

"No," anxious almost frightened.

He shook the handle. "Come on. Let me in. Dean? What's wrong?" getting concerned again.

A pause then, "I'm on the toilet okay? Give me a break!"

Laughing in relief, "Sorry. I'm going to get beer. You want anything else?"

"Some quiet and dignity would be nice."

"Fine. See you in a while," and laughing to himself, Sam left. That had sounded much more like the Dean he knew and loved.

He waited for the sound of the room door closing then Dean looked back up into the mirror over the sink. That's what he had actually been doing. Leaning on the sink, trying to recognise his own reflection. He sighed, finding no answers so, feeling the weight of the world bearing down on him, he stepped into the shower. =====

Dean was sat waiting for him on the far side of the bed but only briefly glanced up as Sam entered. "Right," he announced as he pulled the various contents out of the paper sack onto the table, "We have Beer. We have cookies. We have sandwiches and a bag of your favourite candy," throwing the yellow bag at him. Dean failed to catch it and let out an involuntary groan as he bent to pick it up. "You okay?" Sam asked.

"Yes," spoken quietly in return.

Sam grinned, "You want a massage?"

"No," still quiet but with conviction. Sam came over to sit on the bed next to him and Dean found himself moving away slightly, stilling the hand that was reaching for him.

"Dean? What is it?" genuinely concerned.

Dean finally looked at him, his brow wrinkling. Sam did not have a clue what he had done. It was unbelievable. How could he have used him like that and think everything was fine, that he had enjoyed it? He did not know how to react.

While sat waiting for his brother to come back, he knew he had to ask him, would need to have one of those conversations that he detested. He imagined there'd be tears, Sam's not his, recriminations then truth and they would be okay. But that all hinged on Sam knowing what he had done. He had punished him under the guise of sex and that was abuse. There must be a reason but as far as he could tell he had done nothing to deserve it. It did not occur to him that Sam would not have any such right under any circumstances. "What did I do wrong?" he asked almost in a whisper.

It was Sam's turn to look puzzled. "Nothing. Why?"

"Do you hate me?"

Aghast, "How could you possibly think that? I love you. You know that."

"But do you hate me? Is there something that I've done or not done?" Dean was convinced there had to be something. Sam was not a sadist. At least that he knew of.

Sam was totally lost. "Right at this moment, I think you are the most exasperating person on the planet. But that's nothing unusual." He tried to add some levity but Dean was nodding. "Wait. I was joking. What's all this about? You hate these type of conversations." He reached out and touched Dean's face shocked at the flinch his brother failed to hide. "Dean. What is it?" alarmed.

Dean wished he had not said anything. This was acutely uncomfortable but then Sam put a hand on his leg and he shot up and away from him, putting the bed between them and yelled at him as he stood to come to him. "Stay the fuck where you are. Don't even think of touching me!"

"But Dean? Please?"

He could not get any words out so just stood shaking his head, a hand up in denial, wanting to scream at him, wanting to shake him, wanting to beat the living crap out of him for taking him somewhere he had never thought to go. Of making him feel all different kinds of wonderful then ripping it all away by hurting him so much, by using him in such a cruel and angry way. Finally he managed, "Why? Why Sam? What could I have possibly done to make you want to hurt me like that?"

"When? I'm sorry but I don't understand." Sam shook his head, he really didn't. He stood up again and moved towards the other.

"I swear if you touch me, I'll fuckin' kill you!" Dean's face as angry as his voice.

Sam retreated back but up against the wall. He doubted the statement but did not want to risk those fists clenched and held ready. He looked at his older brother seeing someone different, a sad and hurting man not his confident cocksure reliable fun loving marvellous brother. But what had he done? He waited for Dean to calm down and tell him.

'Do not do that', Dean thought. 'Do not stand there and look so damn sad. This is about me, what you did to me not what you need'. A glance was all it had taken to see his brother stood, head bowed looking dejected, looking like he needed his big brother to come and make everything alright. But it was him, Dean that needed the reassurance, the soft word and the gentle touch. Even now he longed for the feel of his brother's hands as they had been whilst touching his face that first time. But it had led to this. He could not see a way past this to get to that tenderness. He faltered and staggered to sit on the end of the bed with head in hands.

Slowly, so as not to start the anger off again, Sam moved to kneel in front of him penitent. Whatever he had done to upset Dean this much he was truly sorry for, even if he still did not know what it was. He very gently touched Dean's arms, hands running up to catch up his brother's and pull them away from his head then knelt back on his heals, holding on gently to those hands. But Dean did not look up at him. "Dean?" and waited while Dean played with the band on Sam's wrist with a thumb.

"Sammy? Why did you want to hurt me so much?" head still dropped, spoken to the floor between his feet.

"I didn't, I don't. I would never want to hurt you. How? What did I do? Do you… do you not want to 'be' with me? Have I done something terrible by wanting to make love to you?"

Dean gave a disgusted grunt finally looking at him with a sneer. "You think that's what you do? You think that you made love to me? You fucked me! You used me like a two dollar whore that you would throw away after caring nothing!" the anger came back with his accusations, his hands crushing Sam's wrists, pushing him backwards as he spat the words in his face not believing the horrified expression he saw there.

"Oh no, Dean. No, I'm so sorry you think that. I just, I just …"

"Punished me for something I don't even know I've done."

"No." Sam shook his head in denial. "I wanted you. I needed you. It feels good, I feel good when I hold you, when I'm with you. You make me feel safe." It was true, he always had. But maybe Dean was not safe with him anymore. He knelt up wanting to hold his face to convince him he had never intended to hurt. Did not realise indeed that he had. He would never ever allow himself to get that immersed again. He already knew he had been slipping down a more violent path and Dean was the only thing that had anchored him, halting that slide. How could he tell him all this? Should he? Not normally because Dean hated this sort of stuff. But the way he was looking at him. It was breaking Sam's heart.

"Please believe me. It was not my intention to use you. I was caught up in it all, in you. All I ever want is you. I can't bare the thought of you leaving me, of being alone and I want you. I want all of you. I'm selfish, I want everything you are and have to give. I need you." Was he explaining this well enough? He could not find the words and stared into those beautiful clear eyes which were searching his intently. The pressure on his wrists was slowly easing and he began to well up at Dean's face as the anger left it and he began to look concerned for him.

Sam wanted to kiss him. He moved closer looking at those lips but as Dean moved back slightly, he spoke words designed to get what he wanted. He knew as he said them he had no intention of following through on them but Dean had to believe him. He looked into those green eyes, letting the moisture in his own spill as silent tears. "If the only way I can ever convince you that I will never treat you like this again is by never asking you to be with me so be it. You tell me you don't want me to and I will never touch you again." And he bit his lip holding his breath and dropping his eyes, all designed to get Dean to give into him.

He truly had not known he was being far too rough in his ardour but he was not going to be denied for it. His eyes fluttered up then quickly back down but long enough to see that Dean was weakening. He let go of one hand and, with both of his held, Dean's other hand up to his lips then rubbed his palm against his cheek and then waited once more.

"You scare me, Sammy. Sometimes I don't think I know you anymore." Dean cradled his face as Sam's hands moved to lightly touch his knees. Tilting his head up he studied his brother. He wanted to believe him but he had been so … ravenous. And if he decided he did not want Sam's touch, would Sam really leave him alone? Sam was strong, had proved it on numerous occasions but not in this maybe. He could feel his desire, it still hurt badly and maybe Sam believed what he was saying but Dean was not so sure.

He was not sure himself what he wanted. He never wanted to go through today's experience again but he choked internally at the thought of Sam never touching him again. Even now those hands, so slowly moving along his thighs, were calling to him. No, he was not just going to let this go. If he could not get it through to Sam, what's to say he would not do it again? Not take him again whenever he felt like it? Dean was scared.

He was watching Sam's lips as he was creeping closer to him. He was biting that bottom lip then let it go, his lips parting just waiting to be kissed. And as he slowly leaned into him, placing those lips on his own so lightly, Dean could not help but welcome them. This is what he wanted, had wanted that first time.

Dean wanted intimacy, tenderness, closeness. He needed to know that he was still needed because he was becoming increasingly unsure that he was, but more than anything, he needed to know that he was wanted. He had been mistaken thinking that he was getting his validation from the lust he had seen in Sam's face.

Dean needed to know that Sam wanted him and not just as something to fuck, you could get that anywhere. He needed to know that Sam wanted him, what only he could give him and when he kissed him so tenderly he knew.

The responses Dean was giving Sam were so contradictory to what he had been thinking whilst waiting for him. He knew better, he knew he should not let himself be treated like this. He was worth more than this surely? He deserved better than this. Didn't he? But this kissing was weakening his resolve. And that's what scared him.

It was working. Whatever Dean's objections, he was responding to Sam. He was kissing him back. Sam had started so delicately judging every action, every nuance in an attempt to get his brother to forget his grievance and let him have his way. He slowly deepened the kiss, kneeling up, stilling the movement of his hands not wanting to 'frighten' him off. He knew he would get what he wanted. Dean always gave into him in the end even if he did not realise it. It was a skill he had used on him for years.

Pulling back, dragging his lips off Sam's, Dean sighed deeply his eyes searching Sam's face in particular his eyes trying to ascertain what he was thinking or maybe planning. It was true when he'd said he didn't think he knew his brother anymore. He was not the only one to think that he had changed, or 'come back different' as he had put it to Bobby and he was suspicious.

People often thought of him as stupid, maybe due to his demeanour, or his apparently happy go lucky attitude or maybe from just being stood next to his brother but he wasn't and if Sam thought he could play him by giving him what he thought he wanted he was going to be sorely disappointed.

But he had obviously got one thing right. He loved the way Sam had been kissing him. It was so delicate and so affectionate both at the same time. He felt as if he could understand all that his brother was to him, what he felt Dean was to him in that contact. He sighed slumping down, his forehead coming to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Sam moved his hands up onto Dean's waist then slid across his back, slowly pulling him into a hug. He let his long fingers tease the hair at the base of his brother's skull and felt him slowly relax onto him, his face pushing into his neck. Dean's hands came up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on a little too tightly for comfort and Sam knew then that he had him. He could sense his brothers 'need' for him, no matter what he did, how far he pushed him. But Sam was not too arrogant to know that he would still have to be careful. Dean would need the correct handling but then, Sam knew how to do that. For now he just held him close.

==================== end =====================

A/N

It was on a rainy afternoon that I decided to turn Sam into a complete bastard but if I bat my eyelashes and shed a tear will you forgive me?