"What the hell is wrong with you? Go apologize to your brother, now, Dean?" Mary snapped and pointed in the direction Sam had gone.

"Whoa, whoa, what do you mean, 'what the hell is wrong with me?' I didn't do anything," Dean said defensively, unaware he sounded exactly like the four year-old Mary remembered.

"You hurt your brother's feelings when you said you wouldn't go to the ultrasound appointment with him. Why would you say something like that? Don't you want to see your baby?"

Dean's heart jumped into his throat and cut off all his oxygen, and any hope of ever breathing again.

"Uh, Dean? You okay? You're looking pretty green…" He could hear her, but her voice sounded it like was coming from the far end of a long tunnel. Dark spots clouded his vision. She knows she knows she knows—

"Dean, honey, sit down." Dean vaguely became aware of Mary guiding him into one of the dining chairs. "Breathe with me, okay? Deep breaths, deep breaths. That's it."

After several minutes of deep breathing and Mary's calming voice, Dean's heart was back in its rightful position, but lower than ever before. Somehow she knew, and now she was going to leave. Again. After he'd just gotten her back.

"H-How did you…"

"How did I know that it's your baby too? Honey, you two are soulmates, it wasn't too hard to figure out that you put that baby in Sam's belly. I may have been gone a long time, but I know that still works the same way."

Dean's jaw honest-to-god dropped. "Wha—how—you—what? What?"

"When you're in heaven for awhile, you start to hear things. Those angels couldn't shut up about Sam and Dean Winchester, trying to shut down the apocalypse."

"I'm sorry, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're alive and know that I knocked up my brother," Dean deadpanned.

Mary chuckled, her laugh sounding so much like Sam's that it hurt.

"But you're, uh, you're okay with it?" he whispered, staring at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world rather than watch the disgust bloom on her face.

"I'm not going to lie, I was surprised. No mother expects to hear that her sons are… together. But when I thought about it, if you two are soulmates, the way your father and I are, then you must feel the same way about Sam that I feel about your father. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Dean's breath hitched, and he was embarrassed to feel a tear slide down his cheek, and then another, and another. He was full out sobbing when he buried his face in his mother's chest, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping him together.

"It's okay," he sobbed, "It's okay that I love him? Is it really okay for me to love him?"

"Of course it is. Don't ever let anyone tell you different."

Dean pulled away after a few moments, clearing his throat and rubbing his red, puffy eyes. "So… you were with Dad there? How was he?"

"Before or after I punched him in the jaw?"

Sam went to his appointment first thing in the morning, alone.

He plastered on a fake smile as the doctor spread cold gel on his bare stomach, telling him how excited he should be and how happy a time this supposedly was.

"So, other daddy couldn't make it today?" She asked politely while moving the transducer around, trying to find the baby.

"No, he's not in the picture anymore," Sam replied in a curt tone, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes how true that really was.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." She looked genuinely contrite. Doctor Mila was a kind and sweet woman, not to mention one of the best in the state (Sam had done his research), and he couldn't hold anything against her.

"It's okay."

"I have to say, he doesn't know what he's missing. Look at this little one."

Sam stared at the screen where there was a tiny little blob the doctor was pointing at, and sucked in a sharp, awed breath. "That's my baby?"

"That's your baby."

The second Sam saw Dean waiting on the edge of the bed when he got home, he knew something was up. Dean had been practically avoiding him for a month, why else would he seek him out but to tell him something important. The final nail in the coffin. The "Sam, I can't do this anymore." The "Sam, this was never right."

Sam mentally braced himself. He'd known for a long time that Dean's avoidance was leading up to this, and he thought he was prepared, knew he should consider himself lucky if Dean wanted to have any kind of relationship with him at all. But now that the moment of truth was here, he found himself feeling sick to his stomach.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is my room you know, even if you've… nested in it, or whatever."

Sam acknowledged Dean with a shrug, not trusting himself to speak any more than necessary.

"We need to talk."

And there it was.

He turned away from Dean, pretending to be preoccupied with putting away the folded clothes he'd forgotten about last night. "What's there to talk about?" His voice didn't shake, right? He sounded totally normal? Dean wouldn't suspect that his heart was crumbling away into nothing? "I get it, you're done. That's perfectly fine." Sam slammed a drawer so hard it bounced back at him, pissing him off even more. "Everything's fine. My baby-"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Your baby? What the hell do you mean, 'your' baby?" Dean snapped, getting off the bed and grabbing Sam's shoulder, forcing him to face him.

"That's right, my baby. My baby will be perfectly fine without-"

"Not your baby, our baby goddammit-"

"You don't even fucking want it!" Sam shouted. When faced with Dean's stunned silence, he continued, "You don't want it anymore, that's fine. I know Mom coming back must have changed a lot for you, made you realize that you don't need me after all. And we'll, we'll be perfectly fucking fine without you."

Sam waited for Dean to say something, anything, shout back at him maybe. He expected anger, at least. But Dean just looked… devastated. He looked like he was about to cry.

"C'mon Dean, say something."

Dean snorted and hurriedly wiped at his eyes. "You want me say something? Fine. I'm sorry. I came to apologize for not having your back this past month, I know I haven't, and I'm sorry. But is that what you think of me? You think I would just abandon you and our unborn baby? Thanks, thanks a fucking lot, Sam. It's nice to know you have such a high opinion of me," Dean spat, venom in his voice.

"What else was I supposed to think?" Sam whispered, hating the way his voice cracked. "You haven't talked to me, not really, in over a month. I didn't… I didn't think you wanted me anymore. Or the baby. So I've been preparing myself-"

"Hey, hey, come here." To Sam's surprise, he found himself enveloped in Dean's strong arms. Hard as he tried, he couldn't stop himself from melting into the embrace or the sob escaping his throat.

"I think we all just need to take a few steps back here," Dean said quietly, tightening his grip on Sam. "Okay, so you think I don't want you or the baby anymore because I've been avoiding you this past month, right?" Sam nodded into Dean's shoulder. "But you still want me and the baby, right?"

Sam nodded again and sucked in a sharp breath, confused and yet a little curious where Dean was going with this.

"Oh Sammy, Baby Boy, I'm so sorry for making you think this way. I should have known," Dean whispered, kissing Sam's hair and neck and anywhere he could reach. "Yes, I have to admit, I have been kind of avoiding you. I was just so scared of Mom finding out about us, I didn't know what else to do. Because if she saw the way I look at you, she'd know in an instant. And if she knew, and she was disgusted by me, by us, I'd have to ask her to leave. And… and I didn't want Mom to hate me, you know?"

Dean felt the same way he did?

The whole time, Sam had yet to talk to Mary because he was afraid of what she'd think of him, and it turned out Dean was thinking the same thing?"

"So really, this whole time we've both just wanted Mom to like us?" Sam mumbled into Dean's shoulder.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"We're both idiots."

"Yup."

They shared a chuckle. Sam let himself finally relax in Dean's arms. maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again.

"And Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I have never wanted anything more in my life than you, and this baby. I could never not want you, little brother. That's any impossibility, because, and I know I don't say this often, and if you ever tell anyone I said this mushy crap I will deny it, I love you."

Sam sobbed into Dean's neck, tremors wracking his entire body with the force of it. Dean's soothing voice tried to shush him, calm him down, but he couldn't. He couldn't remember crying like this in his entire life.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Sam regained control of his emotions again. He took his first calm breath in over an hour, wiped his red, puffy eyes, and blushed when he noticed the mess he'd made of Dean's shirt.

"S-Sorry. I think it's the h-hormones."

"It's fine." Dean continued to rub small, comforting circles in Sam's back. Sam's eyes drifted close. "That feels nice."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmmm."

Before sleep completely overtook him, Sam found enough energy to murmur "Love you too, Jerk, and you better not forget it."

Dean chuckled. "Love you too, Bitch. Oh, by the way, apparently Momknowsaboutus."

"WHAT?!"

Sam was horny.

Really, really horny.

Between Dean being a bomb and himself getting kidnapped and Mom coming back, there hadn't been much time for sex. The last time was probably… hell, when the Baby was conceived. He loved his mom, and was so grateful that they'd finally started talking and were developing a real relationship, but it didn't make for the best conditions for a night of wild sex that he really, really, wanted—no, needed—to have.

So when Mary asked them to go out and get some groceries for the week, Sam saw his opportunity.

They went to the usual place, but on the way back when Sam saw a sign for a motel two miles away, he told Dean to turn left instead of right.

"Huh? But we're supposed to turn-"

"Just do it."

"Who died and made you king?" Dean muttered, but complied. Sam smirked. This was going to be fun.

With glee and cat-like reflexes, Sam leaned over the bench seat, pulled down Dean's zipper, freeing his cock, and sucking it into his mouth.

"Jesus FUCK," Dean jerked, but didn't pull away. "Sammy, what the fuck are you doing? I'm driving!"

Sam ignored him and proceeded to swallow Dean to the base, until his nose was buried in the curly reddish hair of Dean's pubic bone. He grinned when he felt Dean harden even further inside his mouth.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Dean panted. Sam bobbed his head and hollowed his cheeks. "Fuck yeah, God."

"Motel," Sam coughed, and went back to sucking Dean's dick.

"Sammy, don't talk with your mouth full."

But Dean got the message and moments later they were pulling into the motel parking lot, Sam pulling his mouth of Dean's cock with a wet pop that nearly had Dean coming in his jeans. "You're going to pay for this," Dean grumbled as he adjusted his hard-on straining against the front of his jeans, trying to will it down before walking in to rent them a room, to no avail. "Dammit." Dean pulled his jacket lower, hoping for the best, and climbed out of the car.

"That's the plan," Sam shouted behind him and laughed at the middle finger Dean threw his way.

With the speed of a long-practiced ritual, Dean had Sam in their room and pinned against the door, attacking his neck like a vampire, or a starving man. He was, he supposed, when he realized how long it had been since they'd last done this.

An animalistic growl escaping his throat, Dean tore off Sam's flannel, buttons flying everywhere, unable to have any sort of barrier between them a second longer. Judging by the way Sam practically ripped his jeans off, he felt the same way.

Sam was on the bed, ass in the air, in record time, Dean fucking him with his fingers. The extra lube they'd used produced a dirty wet sound that went straight to Dean's dick.

"Dean, please, just fuck me," Sam moaned as Dean crooked his fingers and hit the bundle of nerves inside him.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, just get your dick in me already!"

"Bossy, bossy," Dean smirked, smacking Sam's ass and enjoying the moan it produced. "Turn over. Wanna see your face when I'm pounding you into the mattress."

Sam rolled his eyes, but the fond look in his eyes betrayed how happy he really was. He rolled onto his back and spread his legs obscenely, so Dean got a perfect view of Sam's hole, still so tight and pretty pink after all these years. "You ready to fuck me now?"

Normally Dean would take his time and prep Sam longer; he could spend hours with his tongue buried in the haven of Sam's ass cheeks, but tonight was not one of those nights. He needed. Without a word, Dean grabbed the base of his dick and guided it into Sam's entrance inch by inch.

Growling, Sam slammed down the last few inches so Dean was completely sheathed in the tight heat of his dreams. "Fuck me."

"You asked for it."

Oh, did Dean fuck him. Dean fucked him in every position imaginable, all night long. On the bed, against the wall, in the shower. Neither could get enough of each other.

The next morning Dean woke up to the warmest, wettest heat surrounding him. "Sam?"

Sam pulled his mouth off for second. "Good morning," before he started licking Dean's dick like it was a lollipop.

"Oh fuck, yeah, this is what I call a good morning." Dean threw his head back against the mattress as a moan escaped him. Suddenly the wet heat was gone and pouted. "Sammy, where you goi—holy shit!" Sam had stopped sucking his cock because he was now sitting on Dean's cock. Dean fought the pleasure clouding his brain, he didn't want Sam to hurt himself. "What're you-"

"Relax, I'm still open from all the other times you've fucked me," Sam moaned as he bounced on Dean's cock, angling it so it hit his prostate on every thrust.

"Oh yeah? You a slut for my dick, little brother? Can't get enough of big brother's cock?" Dean grabbed Sam's hips and thrust up, smirking when Sam screamed at the new angle. His eyes fell on Sam's swollen stomach, impossible to miss as Sam rode him hard. He splayed a hand on it, gently caressing it as he snapped his hips up. He did that. He fucked Sam so good he got knocked up. That was his baby growing in Sam's belly. "Mine, Sammy," Dean growled. "My baby in your belly, proof that you're mine, that I fucked you."

"Don't tell me you have a pregnancy fetish," Sam laughed.

"Better get used to it," Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. He snapped his hips up, fucking into Sam nice and hard.

"Aaaaah, ah, yes, yes, yes Deeeeaaaan!"