AN: I know...forever to update, but I have good reasons (excuses.) Anyhow...let's see how you like this chapter. It's...uh...not got the same feel as the last two.

Dean was trying hard to concentrate on the game, but he couldn't go a minute without glancing back at Sam just to make sure he was okay. It was the same for Sam. He sipped his beer and occasionally looked around the bar, not suspiciously or anxiously. Winchesters were cautious, not paranoid. But nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be going on. Sam was certain that a couple in the booth across the floor from him was having sex, but that didn't interest him in the least once he'd gotten over the shocking new revelation that people probably had sex in public all the time and from now on, he'd never quite trust any booth in any restaurant or bar for the rest of his life. He wondered if Dean knew these things. He frequented bars in just about every town they blew into, so he must've. For all Sam knew, he probably hooked up in booths and bathrooms all the time. When Sam told Dean that he'd lost his virginity, he'd given him six condoms, but said nothing. That had made Sam uneasy. He'd been expecting a pat on the back, a ruffle of the hair, or even a scolding. But Dean had said nothing as though he were disappointed, but not disappointed enough to yell. And how dare he be. He was the one with the duffel full of prophylactics just waiting to be used or, in this case, handed out. Sam still had those condoms. All six. He never really considered using them. Sex, as far as he was concerned, hadn't been all it was cracked up to be. It was a little embarrassing, over too quick, not worth the effort, and he was pretty sure the girl was in pain the whole time. That had made it a little bit harder to enjoy what he was doing. He wondered what Dean made of sex.

Dean humored the leather-wearing gentleman for the first few minutes of the game before stepping it up and finally smearing the table with their asses. They weren't even that good at pool, to begin with, but they sure did talk big. That made Dean nervous. Made him worry that perhaps they were actually hoping for him to win so they could take him out back and fuck him up. Hell, they probably had a deal with the bar-owner to look the other way. That kind of shit happened all the time in these self-contained southern towns. He should've been able to keep calm knowing that he had Sam to back him up, but that only worried him more because the last thing he wanted was for Sam to get mixed up with these guys. He didn't quite take them for the sodomizing type, but Sam was pretty. And from the back, it all looked the same. Especially when it was a boy with long hair.

"Whatcha keep lookin' at?" One of the gruff voices asked. It came from the gent in the Harley shirt and the leather jacket without sleeves. It couldn't quite be called a vest because Dean was certain that it had actually had sleeves attached at one point in time.

"Looks like that pretty boy over there." Said Duff. Dean had caught his name early in the game because he'd actually made a shot and earned himself pats on the back and congratulations from his mates. Or gang. Whatever. Duff was the only one who wasn't over-weight. In fact. He was quite short and skinny with longish blonde hair, oiled back over his ears like it was 1953. He had a handlebar mustache to compensate, though. He seemed to be the ring-leader. "Yep. Keeps looking over his shoulder, right at him. And I coulda swore I saw that there boy makin' eyes at 'im, too."

"Coulda swore the same." Agreed one of the others.

"If you wanna make trouble, I'm not interested." Dean said, bending over the table and making his shot. There was something so coital about pool. It was no wonder that Dean was great at it. "Besides...how would it look if the four of you fellas picked a fight with a young kid like me? I'm utterly defenseless, here." He smirked, making his shot and getting the pocket to his upper left. He contained his satisfaction, drawing his cue up to rest his hands and chin on it, smiling cheekily and good naturedly at the foursome.

"Boy, you got a smart mouth on you." Duff said, puffing out his small chest. "Mouth that don't know how to shut up."

"Oh, this mouth knows how to do plenty." Dean winked, inwardly kicking himself for baiting them. "Not that you're ever going to find out."

"You hear this faggot, Duffy?" Came Harley-shirt.

"I hear 'im. And if he knows what's good for 'im he better put that pool cue down and go find 'im a nice queer bar to strut his stuff in."

"Well so far, this was the only queer bar in town."

"Boy, I'm warnin' you..."

Sam weaved his way between Duff and his brother and smiled at the small blonde man before turning to Dean. "Honey? Were you picking fights with these handsome men? What'd I tell you last time you got your ass kicked by a gang of bikers?"

The men around the pool table –Dean included- all shared the same look of puzzled curiosity after Sam spoke. Dean, for other reasons, however.

"See, Duff? I knew he was a queer. And that pretty boy's his girlfriend."

"The two of you better get out of my bar real fast and don't look back. It's been a long time since I've whooped me some faggot ass, and my fingers is already itchin'..."

"You got it." Sam smiled even sweeter if that was possible as he hung on the arm of his older brother, tugging him towards the exit. "We're leaving now, Babe."

"...Right....babe..." Dean replied, through gritted teeth as he was all but dragged from the smoky bar and out to the parking lot.

"What the hell was that, Sam?"

"What do you mean?" Sam finally let go of his lover's grip on his brother. "I was saving your ass."

"You were fucking things up. I could've handled it, and I wasn't going to let it go full-blown to begin with. Now we're still broke, and we probably aren't exactly welcome back here."

Sam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in that way that annoyed their father to no end. "You're welcome."

"Yeah. Whatever. You know, you make a really convincing gay." Dean smirked, attempting to kill the hostility and lighten the mood.

"Hey, they thought you were gay and you weren't even pretending."

Sam did have a point there.

"You were listening?"

"I could hear over the Johnny Cash and sounds of wet barroom sex, surprisingly, yes."

"Sounds of-...?"

"Yeah. There was...this dude and this woman in a booth a few feet away from me."

"You're such a peeping tom." Dean rubbed his arm where Sam had dug his fingers in while pulling him from the pool table moments before as they walked across the road and down the sidewalk to their motel.

"Right, Dean. It was actually pretty disgusting."

"Uh-huh. I'll believe that a teenage boy was disgusted by live public sex the day Shakespeare's corpse delivers a pizza to my door free of charge."

"It was gross, Dean. Sex is just....sex, anyway. It's messy and pointless."

"You think that?" Dean was a little shocked by that statement. Firstly, because even though it had broke his heart the day Sammy told him he'd lost his virginity to the 16 year old daughter of a motel-owner, he'd at least hoped it was good for him. Their lives were wacked enough as is, and even if Dean did harbor a secret wicked lust for his younger brother, the jealousy wasn't enough to keep him from wanting Sam to be happy. It shocked him, secondly, because he wanted to think that if he and Sam ever did end up together –though that was extremely unlikely and wrong- Sam would want the same things Dean wanted.

"Yeah, Dean. I never really told you about it because you seemed so upset about it, but when I had sex, I didn't really enjoy it that much." He shrugged.

"Why not? Because I saw the girl, and she was cute, Sammy."

"I don't know, Dean. I just didn't get into it. It seemed degrading to her, and I just felt guilty. She bled a little." Sam cringed as he said the last part. As though it hurt him to admit that he'd done it to her.

"Sam. Most virgins bleed. It's just a fact of life."

"Do you make girls bleed, Dean?" Sam inquired with a little bitterness.

"I have." he replied after a moment of consideration and brief guilt. He suddenly felt accused. "But it's not wrong, Sam. It just...happens. I didn't do it on purpose and neither did you."

"I just....don't think I like girls all that much."

There was a long silence that followed Sam's statement, and it seemed agonizingly longer to Sam who wanted to turn and run, never having to face his brother again. It was long for Dean, because it was possibly the best news he'd ever heard in all his life.

"You...you think you might be gay, Sammy? Or...just not sexually awake. Asexual, or whatever...."

"I don't know. I didn't really mean it. Let's just not talk about it." Sam picked up his pace and made it to the motel room door before Dean, only to realize he'd have to wait for Dean to unlock it for him anyway.

But when Dean caught up, he made no move to get the key out or to unlock the door. Instead, he stood uncomfortably close to his younger brother, staring him dead in the eye. But not with malice or anger. With....desperation?

"Sam...believe me, I'm not going to be upset with you if you're gay. I just want you to tell me."

"I don't know what I am, Dean! And that's the truth. Why does it matter, anyway?"

Dean sighed and finally unlocked the door and let them into the room, closing and locking it again behind them. Sam turned on the light and went to sit on the bed he and Dean shared, head hung low, and hands in his lap playing with one another.

Dean sat down next to him, facing him, and took the idle hands in his own, attempting to comfort his brother.

"Sammy, look. I'm not....I'm not all that certain of things myself. I've been....I am...confused, too."

Sam lifted his head a little to meet the eyes of his brother. "You're just saying that."

"No, Sammy, I....I've slept with men before. Not exactly men of choice, but....it wasn't all bad. And I've been attracted to men."

"But you sleep with women all the time."

"I don't." Dean said.

Sam turned on the bed so he could talk to his brother without having to crane his neck. "But..."

"Sam...I really don't. I haven't slept with anyone in two months. I won't deny that I have a bit of a track record with the ladies, but lately, I've been a saint."

"And you've slept with men? Men who weren't your choice? What does that mean..."

"It means I've been lonely on occasion. Not every bar I've hustled is like the one we just came from."

A look of plain disgust spread over Sam's face. "You've....you were....you whored yourself out!"

"To very lonely men, lonely as me, who appreciated it very much. I offered companionship when there was nothing else to be had. It's more respectable than it sounds."

"So the night you came home...hurt?"

"I was hustling pool just like I told you and Dad."

"You were raped. I've always known, deep down."

Dean flinched at the R word. He didn't want to talk about it now or ever.

"Yeah, Sammy. But it's not important anymore, I'm over it."

"I'd never seen you cry from an injury before in my life, Dean. It's important."

"Sam..."

"I couldn't sleep for a week because I was so afraid for you!"

"Please..."

"Hell, you hardly spoke to me for a week!"

On impulse, Dean flew forward, pulling Sam close to him by his hands, and kissed him hard on the mouth. More to shut him up than to indulge his long-lived craving.

When the too-short too-rough kiss ended, Sam was frozen with his eyes as wide as they'd ever been. He had no words, Dean'd eaten them all with his sweet, hungry lips.

"I'm...sorry..." Dean finally choked out, but before he had the time to elaborate or even think of a good excuse, Sam was back on him. This time, Sam's lips were the hungry ones, and though they did not beg entry, they pushed for Dean even more than Dean's had pushed for him. Somehow, Dean found the willpower to push his younger brother away.

"What're you doing?" He panted.

"What do you mean? You did it first."

"Doesn't mean it was right."

"I did it because I wanted it."

"So did I..." Dean scanned Sam's face for anything but the horrible need and lust he saw there. He thought he'd be ecstatic the day he found the nerve to kiss Sam. He'd dreamed of seeing this look in his baby brother's eyes. But at the moment, he just felt dirty. "Sam...I've wanted you for...well...months, now. But I shouldn't. And you can't just go along with it because I'm your older brother and you're scared to disappoint me."

"Oh, god, it's not that, Dean." Sam said, holding himself back, now. "And you're right, I've never....thought about you like that before. But now it just seems so obvious."

"This isn't the type of decision you make 2 minutes after your older brother molests you. You're not in your right mind."

"But I think I am, Dean." Sam pleaded. "If it didn't feel wrong or disgusting to me then, then why will it ever feel that way in the future?"

"I've had longer to think about this than you. You can't just...be kissed into compliance."

"Apparently I just was."

Dean shook his head, trying to come up with all the possible reasons for Sam's sudden requital of lust. He had to chalk it up to hormones, he supposed.

"You're just young and horny."

"So're you." Sam defended.

Touché.

"Think about the consequences. Think if Dad found out."

"Fuck Dad."

Dean was blown back a bit by that one, but found his footing and was able to reply.

"Well this just may be worse than that, Sammy."

"I never said I'd let you...." He couldn't quite get the words out, and though Dean desperately wanted the sentence to end, he couldn't either.

"I know. Assumptions. Sorry. But...what if we don't work in the future. Can you imagine how awkward things would be?"

"Let's be candid here, Dean. This isn't the type of thing where you can stick your toe in the water and then decide you don't wanna get wet after all. When you kissed me, you weren't testing the water, you were taking the plunge."

"I disagree."

"We're not talking about sex, Dean."

"I disagree, again. This all comes back to sex."

"But now that it's out in the open, things would be awkward if we didn't do anything about it."

"You make so much sense." Dean said, sighing. "But I'm afraid the only reason I agree with you is because I want you so bad."

"So have me. For once in your life, get what you want." Sam licked his lower lip, sampling the lingering taste of his brother. "I can't guarantee that I'll never regret this...but...I can promise that I'll never love you less than I do right now."

"Me....me too." Dean agreed, leaning forward once more, slower this time, sweeter, to capture the lips of his brother. Sam moved his whole body forward this time and when Dean's tongue entered his mouth, he made no protest. He wanted Dean to fill him in more ways than one. He'd felt this emptiness when he was with the girl, and now he understood why. He was the one who needed to be penetrated. He didn't think of it in terms of gender, but essentially, he needed to be the girl. He craved it. Had been for a long time, now.

"Mm. Dean." He pulled away again, much to the frustration of his brother. "It would be wrong for us to......tonight?"

"Yeah..." Dean seemed slightly down-hearted by this realization, himself. He hadn't been thinking about the end result of this little make out session, but the thought that it probably wouldn't get to any higher levels was a bit discouraging.

"Well...maybe we could anyway? While we have the chance, you know. While Dad isn't here."

"You're right. Opportunities...just..." But he never was allowed to finish that sentence.

TBC...

Afterward: Okay...see what I mean? It's becoming porn and fast. But I'm having fun with it. *Shrug.* I'm enjoying writing Sam so confused and desperate. He's like a tragic pie-crust. And Dean's the filling.