The beeping alarm clock pulled Sam out of a deep sleep. "Dean," he groaned, "the alarm. Turn it off. Dean!" The noise continued so he tried to roll over to smack at the offending device but found he couldn't move his arms. Pain shot through his wrists and he realized that he was not in a hotel room, but still in his prison, strapped to his bed, with a heart rate monitor beeping at his side. He looked down at his bandaged wrists. Fuck.
Sam dropped his head back onto the pillow, closed his eyes and willed himself back into sleep's embrace, but NotDean's voice destroyed that plan.
"We nearly lost you there, baby brother." Sam heard the scrape of a chair pulling up beside his bed, but he kept his eyes closed and didn't feel any of the usual horror at the endearment. "I have to admit that maybe the nursing kink thing went a little too far. And how you managed to sneak that blade was impressive, but we want to keep you here with us. So there's not gonna be any more of that." NotDean brushed a stray hair out of Sam's face and Sam felt a similar nothingness from the shapeshifter's touch as he did at the creature's words. He just didn't care anymore. There was no point fighting it.
NotDean seemed nonplussed by Sam's lack of response and shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a few long moments before Sam heard him stand up. "I'll let you get back to sleep, Sammy. You need to heal up, so, yeah...get some rest."
Sam merely lay there, saying nothing, feeling nothing, until he sank back into darkness.
When he awoke again it was to a strange pressure in his penis and he looked down in shock at the plump, grey-haired nurse who was inserting a catheter.
"There you are. Sorry, honey, you didn't wake up for a couple days and we have been doing this to prevent a large mess. Did you want to try going on your own this time?"
Sam nodded with wide eyes and the nurse removed the offending tube, unbuckled his arms then helped him to sit up on the edge of the bed, clucking gently at him the whole time, "Such a handsome young man. Why would you want to hurt yourself like that? Poor little duck." Sam just stared straight ahead.
She helped him walk to the toilet with his IV pole and insisted on standing next to him as he relieved himself, saying she was never going to get him up off the floor if he passed out on her. She patted his back sympathetically when the flow hit the irritated tissues and he hissed in discomfort.
The bedding had been changed as they made their way back from the bathroom and Sam sank gratefully into the embrace of the clean, soft linens.
"I'm going to need to strap you down again so you don't tear your stitches while you sleep, Duck." Sam shrugged noncommittally and lay there passively as she buckled his wrists down and placed the call button within reach of his fingers. She gave his head a gentle pat as she left, "It's all gonna be okay, Pet. You'll see."
She didn't see the single tear that escaped the corner of Sam's eye as she turned away.
After a few days, Sam was permitted to sleep without the bindings, but he continued to be completely uncommunicative and only get out of the bed to relieve himself. The sweet nurse came to wash him each day and he didn't resist but didn't help either. He refused to eat so they kept him on the IV as he alternately slept and stared blankly at the ceiling.
NotDean came to hang out by the bed and chat with him but Sam ignored him, generally rolling over onto his side with his back to the creature that wore his brother's face. Nothing the shapeshifter said cracked through Sam's fugue. The thing tried being funny, angry, kind, but not even threatening violence against the sweet nurse had any effect on Sam. Sam didn't even react when the creature curled up behind him on the bed and stroked his hair the way Dean did when they were kids and Sam had had a terrible dream.
It seemed that wearing Dean for so long had ingrained his desire to take care of Sam in the creature so after several weeks of non-response, NotDean decided Sam was going to eat whether he wanted to or not. He sat astride the bigger man's hips, pried his mouth open, and started spooning soup into the opening. Sam tried not to swallow but eventually needed to breathe. He aspirated a bit of the broth and began to cough and sputter, spraying NotDean with the soup. The shapeshifter looked shocked at first and then started to laugh, eyes crinkling in delight, tiny noodles stuck to his face. Eventually, Sam couldn't help it and the corner of his mouth twitched.
NotDean studied Sam's almost-smile carefully, then upended the bowl of soup over his own head. Sam's eyes went wide in surprise then he started to laugh. His whole body shook as he convulsed with laughter, gasping for breath with tears streaming from his eyes.
The shapeshifter grabbed a handful of the noodles from his hair and smeared them onto Sam's face, which instigated a wrestling/soup-smushing match culminating in them both falling off the bed.
They lay on the floor, filthy, panting and chuckling.
"Remember when we had that huge food fight in the kitchen at Bobby's? He was so mad that we had to scrub the toilet with a toothbrush every day for 2 weeks. That may have been the first time he called us Idjits."
Sam's eyes lit up at the memory of Bobby's kitchen covered in flour, cereal, ketchup and God only knows what else before they hardened and dimmed because he wasn't reminiscing with Dean. This thing with his brother's memories wasn't his brother.
"Don't do that. It's not fair," was all he said before he pushed himself to his feet and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and started undressing.
"See the lengths I had to go to to get you to shower? You stink, dude. Thanks for finally taking care of that," NotDean called from outside the doorway. "See if you can hold off trying to kill yourself in there this time."
Sam grunted like he'd been punched in the stomach. Had the creature just made fun of his suicide attempt? There was more of Dean in there than he thought.
The shapeshifter poked his face in the door, "Too soon?" he asked. He didn't duck fast enough to avoid the shampoo bottle that hit him square in the forehead.
Sam returned somewhat to his old self after that, though he was definitely more subdued. He slept a lot but got up to read and watch movies, and was responsive to those around him. His wrists healed well, though the scars were obvious and ached sometimes. NotDean hung out with him most of the time, becoming more and more tactile; pressing his knee to Sam's while they sat on the couch, touching his arm or tousling his hair. Sam just accepted the contact without comment. He woke up one morning to the heat of NotDean's body pressed against his back and after the initial weirdness he just sank into the comforting presence and returned to sleep. He clearly wasn't going to get his brother back, so maybe this replica would have to do, though he knew it was only a matter of time until NotDean started pushing again.
"So, what's the deal?" Sam asked bluntly one afternoon as they sat on the couch together drinking beer and watching Terminator for what must be Sam's fiftieth time. A bottle of Jack sat on the table for their planned poker game with the guards later that evening.
"Whaddya mean, Sammy?" NotDean asked, lowering the bottle from his plump lips.
"My time here has been all kinds of fucked up. You're holding me against my will. You've tortured and hurt people to get me to do what you want. You've made me watch countless hours of pornography starring my brother while being serviced by prostitutes. You drive me to the darkest place I've ever been, which is impressive considering the quality time I've spent with Lucifer, and now we're suddenly starring in some sort of buddy bromance comedy. I just don't fucking get what you want from me."
"I want the same thing I've wanted from you from the beginning, Sam," the creature replied, green eyes locked hard on Sam's. "We're gonna fuck. You're gonna do it willingly and you're gonna come calling my name. You do that, and you get to leave."
Sam blinked slowly and leaned his head against the back of the couch. He swallowed hard. "Just do it," he whispered to the ceiling.
NotDean smirked. "What was that, Sammy? I couldn't quite hear you."
Sam sighed, then studied his hands in his lap. "Just do it," he repeated, louder this time. "I want you to do it."
"You want me to do what, Sam?"
Sam stared hard at the shapeshifter, not surprised that the thing wasn't going to make this easy for him. He grabbed the bottle of Jack and took a big swig, then another. He looked straight into the eyes that both were and were not his brother's. "Fuck me." His voice cracked on the words so he cleared his throat and repeated them, "I want you to fuck me," he paused and took a breath, "Dean."
A big grin crossed NotDean's features. "Not as much enthusiasm as I'd have liked, but I'll take it."
NotDean leaned in and pressed his lips to Sam's, working the curved bow of Sam's bottom lip with the tip of his tongue until it opened to him and NotDean licked deep into the whiskey-flavoured heat. Sam groaned as the tongue plundered his mouth, responding to the teasing touch involuntarily. He didn't want it to feel as good as it did, having Dean's soft lips pressed against his own, hearing his brother's sharp intake of breath as Sam tangled his fingers in the back of his cropped hair.
NotDean pulled back and looked deep into Sam's hazel eyes as he pulled his t-shirt off over his head before doing the same to Sam. Sam gasped as the creature pressed their bare chests together and licked and nibbled the side of Sam's long neck before returning to Sam's pink mouth and plunging his tongue deep inside.
The shapeshifter urged Sam back until he was stretched out lengthwise on the couch with NotDean stretched out on top of him, grinding his hard prick against Sam's hipbone. He traced the line of Sam's kiss-swollen lips with his tongue. "Fuck. That mouth," he groaned. "I've been so desperate to get ahold of that mouth ever since I saw it wrapped around Ethan's cock and I suddenly remembered."
Sam flinched and pulled back, so distracted by the reminder of the sickening incident that led him into the dark spiral he was barely climbing out of that it took a moment for the last words to penetrate. "What do you mean, you remembered?"
"Dean had it hidden away behind some pretty impressive barriers, but the memory of the time you blew him when you were what, fourteen, gets this body rock hard in seconds." He leaned in to kiss Sam's stunned expression.
"I was fifteen," Sam nearly stuttered in shock, "and he was pretty much unconscious. How could he possibly remember?"
"He didn't know it at the time it was happening. Just thought the mousy girl who'd been trying so hard to get him alone all evening had finally got up some courage. It wasn't until the next day when he saw you at the table eating cereal, hair falling across your face as you licked your lips that he got a flash of whose pretty pink mouth was stretched obscenely wide around his cock the previous night." The creature continued, as Sam continued to stare at him open mouthed. "Of course, being the bundle of damage and contradiction you know and love, he denied himself ever having that pleasure again by pulling back, giving up drinking, and trying to become the father that John Winchester was never able to be for you after he lost your mother."
NotDean guided Sam's hand under the waistband of his jeans and against the dampness of his boxers. "But as you can see, Sammy, just talking about it has my dick leaking. Dean used to jack himself to that memory so often. He hated himself for it, but he never came quite as hard as he did when he thought about his Sammy's hot little mouth."
Sam squeezed NotDean's prick tentatively as the shapeshifter ground it into his hand. The memory of that fumbling blow-job, the smell and taste of his big brother surged all the blood in his body straight to his cock. He moaned despite himself and fucked his own aching hardness against NotDean's hip.
"I don't know why you fight this, baby brother. You know you want him." The shapeshifter traced the curve of Sam's ear with his tongue before sucking the lobe hard into his mouth.
"Wanted," Sam replied, his breath hitching. He traced small circles over the sensitive bulb of NotDean's leaking cock before popping the button fly, sliding the jeans down, and slotting the shapeshifter's prick against his own. "I was fifteen and crazed with hormones. I idolized Dean and didn't realize until I was older that that that was different than being in love with him. I was so relieved that he never knew it was me that night, though I remember he stopped drinking for like a year after that. I can't believe he's known all this time and never said anything." He grabbed NotDean's ass and pulled him down hard against him, thrusting his hips up to meet the other man's.
"You're lucky you don't understand the way Dean's mind works," the shapeshifter panted. He dipped his head and sucked one of Sam's nipples into his mouth with a bruising pressure. Sam cried out and arched his back off the couch. NotDean smiled wickedly as he looked up at Sam through long eyelashes. "I've got an entirely too-close-for-comfort view of the inside of big brother's brain. Believe me, it ain't rainbows and puppies in here." He trapped the other nipple in his mouth and subjected it to the same abuse until Sam hauled him back up for a crushing kiss.
The incredible friction of their cocks rubbing together combined with the memory of that night had Sam so close to the edge. He whimpered against NotDean's kiss and the creature pulled back. "Gonna come for me, Sammy?" Eyes glinting, the pink tongue dipped down to lap into Sam's open mouth. Sam could only groan inarticulately. "Gonna come for your big brother?"
Sam's hips bucked hard as the orgasm tore through him, nearly knocking NotDean off the couch but the shapeshifter held on tight, following quickly behind Sam's release with his own. NotDean pressed his face into the side of Sam's neck as the pleasure waned, and his tongue darted out to catch a small rivulet of sweat that ran down the corded muscle. Sam held the man who wore his brother's body close in his arms, dipped his chin and kissed the top of the creature's head. He laughed a little, then that laugh turned into a sob then another and another until his body was shaking with grief.
Strangely enough, NotDean didn't laugh or gloat; he merely held Sam, stroking his hair and shushing him until the tears subsided. He then pulled Sam to his feet and dragged him to the shower, turning the water on then leaving him to it with the briefest of kisses.
Sam stared into the mirror once he was alone, trying to see if the new corruption on his soul showed in his face. His dark eyes didn't look any different to him, but considering his past - drinking demon blood and being Lucifer's vessel - dry humping a shapeshifter version of his older brother was probably a fairly minor transgression.
He removed his soiled pyjamas and washed thoroughly, disturbed by the deep surge of pleasure and want low in his belly when he remembered the feel of NotDean's mouth and body against his own. The taste of the other man still in his mouth made him harden again and Sam stroked himself to completion under the streaming water. Only a few tears escaped his eyes when he was finished.
The days went on in a similar pattern with the two men hanging out together which inevitably led to them making out. The twinge of sickness and shame was lessening each time his mouth connected with NotDean's, and he didn't put up a fight when the creature slid down his body one afternoon as they lounged on the bed, pulled Sam's pants off, and wrapped those perfect cock-sucking lips around his shaft.
"Fuck...Dean," Sam moaned, looking down at the deliciously debauched sight then realized with a shock that he had called the shapeshifter Dean, even in his own head that time. NotDean pulled off Sam's prick with a loud slurping noise, a small string of saliva still attached from lip to tip. He grinned Dean's signature, wanton, ate-the-canary grin then swallowed Sam down to the root. He used some of the saliva dripping down Sam's balls and stroked his finger down into the cleft of Sam's ass toward the furled bud at its centre.
Sam gasped, clenching instinctively at the pressure until a talented swirl with the NotDean's tongue on his dick distracted him enough that the other man was able to slide the tip of his finger past the first tight ring of muscle. The shapeshifter slid the finger back out to swipe up more saliva then sank it to the third knuckle into Sam's clenching heat. Sam keened as the wave of pleasure spread from the base of his spine and engulfed him and he shot his creamy load down the creature's throat.
NotDean continued to finger Sam lightly as he swallowed then licked up any of the residual emission. While Sam was insensate, he pulled those long legs over his shoulders and lifted Sam's hips to press his tongue into the snug aperture next to his long index finger. Sam's eyes flew open at the touch of hot tongue to his hole but the shapeshifter held him firm, one strong hand digging bruises into Sam's hipbone until he relaxed into the sensation.
NotDean teased Sam open with his tongue and finger until he was able to slide a second digit in to join the first. He stilled his movements and licked and nipped at Sam's inner thighs as the younger Winchester adjusted to the stretch.
"It's too much," Sam rasped. "I can't..."
"Shh, Sammy. It's okay. You can and you're gonna love it." With the last statement Shapeshifter Dean crooked his fingertips forward until they brushed the spongy bundle of nerves and Sam moaned deep and low. "That's it, baby boy. Open up for me." When he felt Sam press back into the intrusion, NotDean spread his fingers gently and then started thrusting them slowly in and out of Sam's entrance. The creature fucked his hips against Sam's long leg, desperate for some friction against his raging hardness as he took Sam apart with his hand.
Sam was panting and sweating and oh-so-full when he felt his partner reach into the small bedside table to retrieve a bottle of clear fluid Sam hadn't known was there. He heard the snick of the cap opening then felt an increased wetness as the other man's fingers slipped easily back into him. The pressure intensified as Sam felt another finger join the other two in his ass and he whimpered as the pleasure gave way to discomfort again.
NotDean soothed him again as he slowly opened Sam up, fucking him with three fingers until the taller man was bucking and grinding into his hand. "So good, Sammy. That feel good, opening to your big brother like that? Writhing around with three of his big fingers deep in your ass?" he cooed, looking up the length of Sam's body to meet lust-darkened gaze.
"Fuck yeah, Dean," Sam groaned.
Hearing Sam call him Dean without the brief pause he had always used until recently to add a silent "Not" forced the shapeshifter to pull sharply on his balls to prevent himself from unloading in his jeans. He kicked his way out of his jeans and boxers and held gripped the base of his prick with the hand that wasn't buried in Dean Winchester's little brother.
"Fuck, Sammy, you look so fucking beautiful strung-out like that. I wanna make a movie so I can watch you anytime, but that's gonna have to wait until later. You know what's gonna happen now, baby brother?"
Sam just stared up at NotDean with parted lips and hooded eyes, lost to sensation and pulling at his own overgrown hair.
"I'm gonna fuck you now, Sammy."
"Do it, Dean. Want it," Sam panted, knowing how crazy it made the creature when he used his big brother's name.
The shapeshifter withdrew his fingers from Sam's ass and slicked up his cock with plenty of lube. He stretched out along Sam's length and caught the younger man's mouth in a hard kiss, sucking Sam's bottom lip into his mouth. At NotDean's urging, Sam wrapped his ankles over Shapeshifter Dean's back as he pressed the blunt head of his prick against Sam's entrance. The creature pushed forward into the narrow channel, stopping at Sam's grunt of discomfort when he was sheathed half-way.
"Fuck, Sam," the green-eyed man growled, "You're so tight. I knew you were gonna feel so fucking good around my cock, but I never imagined you'd be so hot and so fucking tight."
Sam growled right back in response to NotDean's words and he relaxed enough for the shapeshifter to sink balls-deep into his engulfing warmth.
When Sam's hips began to move experimentally, NotDean began slow thrusts in and out, driving small cries out of the man beneath him. He leaned forward and sucked the skin of Sam's neck into his mouth as he fucked him. Sam moaned and writhed beneath him, the noises intensifying as NotDean angled his hips to target Sam's sweet spot. He tried to hit it every few thrusts, loving the look of unguarded pleasure on the younger man's face with every impact.
"Let me see you touch yourself, Sammy," he commanded, pulling his knees up under him so he was kneeling tall as he fucked deep into Sam's hole. "Wrap that huge hand around your cock and show me how good it feels to be split open by your big brother."
"Dean...Fuck...Yes! Yes! Deannnnn!" Sam yelled as he stripped his cock, teetering closer and closer then plunging over the edge, shooting ropes of come across his chest and abdomen. He clenched hard around NotDean's prick and felt the pulse of the other man's orgasm fill him from the inside just before he felt his chest sprayed with scalding fluid.
Sam opened his eyes in surprise and saw his brother's shocked face as Dean stood at the foot of the bed holding a huge, bloody knife over the beheaded corpse of the shapeshifter.