Chapter 6 Breaking the Rules

I do not own the amazing creatures that are Sam and Dean Winchester. I am just borrowing them for my own perverse pleasure.

WINCEST Warning: If you read the last chapter and still needed this warning, I feel a little sorry for you.

SAM

The gray light is scraping through a slit in the heavy curtains on the motel room window, casting a spooky light on Dean's face. Sam knows this because he feels like he hasn't looked anywhere but Dean's face for the last few hours. Well, maybe he looked at his body too.

They are tangled together in the sheets and Dean has fallen asleep with his head tucked into Sam's shoulder, his breathing deep and even, and Sam knows his brother is resting peacefully for the first time in forever.

His mind replays the deeds they committed in the night, and Sam feels himself starting to harden at the slightest memory. Which is ridiculous because he has already cum three times, and he and Dean hadn't even gotten to real sex yet. He should be exhausted, but instead, he wars with himself in his own mind whether he should wake up Dean so he can feel his mouth and his hands again. But Dean needs to sleep and Sam isn't that selfish, so he wills his desire away and just stares at Dean some more.

When Dean started acting strange in Butte, Montana, Sam had been so scared, so wrecked with confusion, he hadn't immediately understood what was going on with his brother. Suddenly, Dean wasn't looking him in the eye anymore, was doing anything to avoid it, and Sam's mind ran over scenarios that might have taken place to cause this reaction in Dean.

Dean is always the strong one, the sure one, the charming one, and seeing him rattled out of his element affects Sam more than he will ever admit. Dean is Sam's lifeline, always has been, his one calm in the storm that often takes place in Sam's mind, and thinking that Dean may not provide that safety any longer had caused fear to trickle into Sam's veins like ice water.

He keeps a proper distance from Dean and watches for four days while his brother internally struggles with whatever is bothering him. Sam wants to help, wants to fix it, wants to see Dean's easy smile and relaxed expression again, but he doesn't know how. So, he keeps a watchful stance and prays Dean will snap out of it.

In the woods outside of Butte, Montana is the first slight hint Sam gets regarding what Dean is feeling. Dean is an accomplished liar, a con man by nature, and so his ability to hide his true self away from even Sam is impressive. Dean is excited for the hunt and even his scent wafting from his skin in the air is spicier, like adrenaline had a different taste than other chemical reactions in his body.

When Dean pops into a standing position, and they hear the werewolf closer than they could have thought, Sam's first reaction is to pull Dean away from the danger. Grabbing a fistful of shirt and jacket, Sam heaves Dean downward, towards himself, away from the sound of danger.

Dean trips and lands half sprawled over Sam and a moment clicks by in a hushed silence, punctured only by the sound of both of them breathing, and Sam sees something in Dean's eyes, because for just a second, Dean isn't hiding, lying or trying to con Sam into thinking everything is ok.

Most people wouldn't have caught the look, it was gone so quickly, but Sam knew Dean's face better than he knows his own. And he was struck almost dumb by what he thinks he has seen in his brothers shimmery, green eyes.

Before Sam's brain can formulate any reaction, Dean is up again and Sam feels himself spring up beside him, like he is attached to Dean by an invisible elastic band.

Dean gestures a plan to Sam and Sam can only nod his head that he understands and pray inwardly he does.

A few weeks down the road and they are in Adena, Ohio and Sam is suspicious and unsure.

He watches Dean a lot now, because Dean never really looks at him, so he can stare at Dean as much as he wants. His mind registers Dean's lack of appetite and that he isn't sleeping. He even registers that Dean has almost ceased any physical contact with him, not even as much as a slap on the shoulder for almost two weeks.

A niggling worry worms its way into Sam's brain, but he can't quite grasp it, so he tries to ignore it as much as possible.

The bar they are sitting in is like every other bar they have ever sat in, and so Sam can't tell you what it looked like, or smelled like exactly because they all blur together, but he will never forget that bar, or that table for the rest of his days.

He is clicking away on his computer while another part of his mind worries about Dean taking two whiskey shots within minutes of each other in the middle of the afternoon. Dean is drinking more and more, and Sam doesn't know how to approach the subject without setting Dean off or scaring him away. Sam's mind stutters at the idea that he could scare Dean in any way, and while he largely dismisses the idea the moment it comes to him, it is another thought that takes the shape of a worm sliding around his psyche.

Sam loves research, loves to find information on their hunts on his computer, loves to be the "brains" of the operation. He knows that he isn't up to Dean's level as a hunter, but he likes to think that his research and careful planning makes their hunts easier, less dangerous for his brother.

So, he works at his computer, reading an article that might lead to a case, if in fact the woman isn't lying about the ghost she is claiming is trying to kill her and he hears himself chattering at Dean. Always fucking talking, like he has to fill up the room with words to cover up the awkward silences he is constantly aware of. Dean isn't replying to him and Sam kicks at him because, just for a second Dean is his brother, not listening to him and its pissing him off. Dean had snapped out of whatever fog had currently settled in his head, and parried back with an impressive comeback and Sam had laughed, feeling his face stretch into his first real smile in weeks.

That was when Dean had smiled back at him. Dean always had the best smile, perfectly even white teeth, sensuous full lips that could sneer sexier or pull into an impressive pout better than anyone else in the world. Sam had seen it a million times in his life, for all different reasons. He has been a constant witness to that smile, so when Dean smiles at him in that dingy bar in Adena, Sam knows its one he hasn't seen before.

Dean's smile was unabashed, it was huge, it was dazzling, and his forest green eyes were shining so brightly that Sam had to almost squint away from them. Because in that smile, Sam sees what Dean was trying so damn hard to hide from him. It had rocked into his core and taken up residence as a huge boulder sitting on Sam's chest that he was trying to breathe around, which isn't as easy as it sounds.

Dean catches himself fast, and Sam sees him mentally shake himself, and they both pretend that everything is normal and fine, because that is what Winchesters do when they have no plan of action.

Sam sees Dean's self horror work across his face as more and more things click into place in Dean's mind. He wants to help Dean of course, but Sam is having some trouble with coherent thoughts himself right at that moment.

Sam has just realized that Dean is in love with him. Dean may have a million different smiles in his arsenal, but that particular one had held every emotion he was feeling. And Sam had recognized it so easily because it mirrored his own feeings perfectly.

You see, Sam has known for a long time that he was in love with Dean. He just never expected to see the feelings returned in any other fashion besides brotherly concern.

Now the question was, what the hell was Sam supposed to do about it?

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