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Dean lay back on the motel bed and stared at the ugly ceiling, listening to Sam's slow, easy breathing in the next bed. He couldn't believe he really was here. With Sam and out of Hell. He still wasn't sure this wasn't some trick of Alastair's. Maybe he was on the rack and dreaming all of this. It felt way too good to be possible. For a moment he wondered if you could go crazy in Hell and if his mind had just somehow left the premises. He thought about it for awhile, but decided that if that were possible he'd have done it way sooner. Everybody would, and Hell wouldn't be Hell. So either this was some elaborate hoax or he was really back. And if Alastair could pull this off, he'd have done other stuff like it long ago, too. So this was real. It had to be.
He turned over, pulling the sheet up over his shoulder, rubbing the cloth between his fingers. The luxury of having clothes and beds hadn't sunk in yet. Hell didn't do soft. He only realized he was crying when he felt the cold spot on his pillowcase and he glanced over to make sure Sam was still asleep. Sam could never ever know what he had been through. Dean's heart throbbed and ached as he stared through the dark at the outline of his brother nearby.
He started to wonder for the first time if this was just a new phase of Hell. Send him back to see and hear and feel his brother, but never be able to really touch him the way he needed to now. He tried to blink away all the memories from Hell. The things he had done and the things that had been done to him. Being shredded and tortured and torn apart were the least of his terrible memories. The rest he couldn't bear to think about. The slicing and shredding and torturing of other souls had turned him into someone who didn't deserve to live. But enjoying it all, that, that was so fucked up he couldn't even cope with the idea. He had no right to be out of Hell at all. He was a monster.
But that wasn't even the worst of it. The most terrible memories he had were the ones of himself fucking his brother, being fucked by his brother, kissing his brother, licking and biting and sucking his brother. And loving it. Being addicted to it. Being unable to stop. Only it hadn't really been his brother. Alastair was so inventive with his sex games. Dean could feel the knife slicing through his muscles while he watched Sam leaning over him lovingly. He could see his cock disappearing into Sam's mouth while his fingers dug into Dean's ass. He remembered the hot slick feel of his dick sliding up Sam's ass, pounding into him as hard as he could, screaming at the top of his lungs. He bit back a sob. Maybe being back from Hell was really just a new form of torture.
It had been a long day and Dean slammed open the door to the motel, pulling the salt out of his duffle and securing the room before he headed for the shower. The salt stuck to the blood on his hands, making them gritty and gross. By the time the shower was hot he had stripped and dropped his clothes into a garbage bag to keep blood from getting everywhere. There was a laundromat next door he'd hit in the morning. Thank God the vampire hadn't been part of a nest.
The hot water soothed his soul. When he finally got all the sticky blood out of his hair and the nasty smell of vampire off his skin he was so tired he could hardly think. But when he crawled onto the bed his brain wouldn't shut down. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Sam leaning over him, breathing hotly into his mouth, his sweaty naked skin shining in the darkness. He sobbed a wild breath in, turning into the pillow.
He'd called Sam and was on his way to meet up with him again. That dick angel had convinced him that they were better together than apart, but he didn't know how he was going to do this. Every night with Sam was terrible. The days weren't so bad, but every time he lay down and turned off the light the only thing he could think of was crawling across into Sam's bed. He didn't know how he'd managed to resist for so long, and he didn't think he could last forever, seeing Sam's gorgeous smile, smelling his oh-so-real pure male scent, and hearing his deep, silky voice. Sometimes just the electricity of having him nearby made his heart race in terror. Sam's normal brotherly touches had pretty much stopped before they even split up. Sam thought Dean couldn't stand to be touched by him because of the whole drinking-demon-blood thing or some shit. Which was good, right, because it's better to believe your brother's a dick than to think he's an incestuous pervert?
"Dean!" Sam's voice sounded far away. Dean opened his eyes and blurrily saw Sam leaning over him, dripping blood onto his face. The copper taste slid into his mouth. Sam's blood. As it swirled through his senses the memory of Sam's taste slammed into his chest and it twisted suddenly with a bolt of lust, throwing him into full consciousness. When it hit he was staring right into Sam's green gray eyes and he saw them widen, staring back. He let out a tiny whimper.
"No." He turned his head and closed his eyes, trying to will his sudden erection down. Sam's voice sounded confused this time. "Dean?"
"I'm okay. Just gimme a minute." Dean's voice came out all rough and gravelly. But he'd just been knocked into a wall by a freakin' werewolf, so maybe Sam would back off. He rolled over, away from Sam, and pushed up to his hands and knees. He'd heard Sam finish the creature off before he passed out, so he knew the fight was over. He stumbled to his knees. Ever since Sam'd gotten his soul back he'd been harder and harder to resist. Soulless Sam had been much easier to handle in some ways. He didn't give a damn what Dean felt. The real Sam had his own issues, though. He didn't need Dean's fucking him up, too. But then he felt Sam's hand grip his upper arm. "Dean, come here."
Oh, shit. What had Sam seen? He didn't move. "Dean, I mean it." Sam's hand cupped his chin and pulled his face up. Dean looked up for an instant, then back down. He didn't understand the look on Sam's face. "Jesus, Dean." Sam's voice was breathy. Dean finally looked back up, expecting horror or pity, but instead he saw... yearning? He stared back, frowning, and then swallowed, unsure what to say to make this right. Sam couldn't know. He must think something else. He held onto that thought until Sam leaned his face down slowly, and pressed his lips to Dean's. Dean let out a sharp breath. Sam couldn't mean it. He was hallucinating. Only, Sam's tongue was gently pressing into Dean's mouth and it felt really fucking real. Dean closed his eyes and pushed back, just a little. Sam didn't retreat. He just started licking and twisting and kissing Dean as if it was fucking normal and he'd been doing it all his fucking life.
Dean gave up. A man can only resist temptation for so long. He wasn't a freakin' saint. He leaned into him and kissed back like Sam was a river and he wanted to drown in him. His arms went up and he pulled Sam into his arms the way he fucking wanted to and pushed into Sam's mouth and finally gave up all the emotion and love and fear he'd been holding in for fuckingever. He heard Sam moan and he just answered, not caring how he sounded for once. He moaned and screamed and shouted, all without taking his mouth from Sam's. Sam tasted of blood and sweat and smoke and home. He pulled Sam down into his lap and then leaned back down to the floor and Sam came with him, until their whole bodies were touching and writhing and pulling. And Sam's mouth was hot and wet and... his. Just his.
Dean finally had to breathe, and his body and mouth went loose. His head tilted back and touched the floor. He trembled a little as he opened his eyes, petrified, to see Sam above him, looking back. But instead of what he feared, Dean saw love shining out of his eyes. He knew Sammy and he knew that look. There wasn't any horror or fear. It was open and honest. Dean fucking lost it. He scrunched his face up, trying not to cry, but the emotions had been pushed down and pushed back and forced away for so long that they just sort of exploded in his chest and throat, and he couldn't stop the tears and the feelings any more.
He felt Sam's hand go under the back of his head, and cradle it, and pull his face into his shoulder. Sam rolled over to sit up, and pulled Dean up with him, keeping his face smushed into his thick jacket, rocking back and forth. Dean didn't know how long it went on, but it seemed like forever, just letting wave after wave of feelings go through him, all the anguish and rejection and pain flood out of him.
He finally felt his brain slowing, and his churning emotions easing up. He gulped in a calmer breath, and attempted to stop his shaking. He kept his eyes closed and tried to relax, breathe deeply, feeling Sam's huge warm body tightly holding him, still gently rocking just a little. He gradually went limp, and let all the tension flow out of him. They sat that way for a good while, as Dean's brain slowly came back online. He wasn't sure what to say, where they were. He'd never been so unsure of his brother in his life.
"Do you think you can stand?" Sam's voice was gentle, like he was talking to a scared dog, trying to coax it into letting him take care of it. Dean stuttered out a soft, "I'm alright." Dean climbed out of Sam's lap and stood up without looking Sam in the face. Gruffly he muttered, "We need to burn the body."
"We can come back tonight for that. I need food and a shower before I go any further." Sam's voice stayed soft and undemanding.
"Um, yeah. There was a No-tell Motel back about 3 miles, with a diner. Maybe they'll have some pie." Trying to sound normal, Dean was grateful that Sam wasn't pushing. Maybe after a shower and some food he could somehow figure out what had just happened.
They gathered up the dropped guns and shells and headed back up the dirt road. Driving the Impala made Dean feel better, like some part of his insane fucking life was under control. At the motel, Sam checked in while Dean concentrated on not freaking out. He usually felt safer when they closed a motel door behind them, locking out the rest of the world, but this time it felt like he was being locked in with his nightmare.
Sam knew. He didn't know it all, but he knew enough. Sam had Lucifer popping in at all hours, stretching his sanity. He'd taken on the devil and won. He'd saved the whole freakin' world, and no one knew it but them. He was a goddamn hero. He deserved the world on a damn silver platter, not a fucked up broken son of a bitch of a brother. Dean sighed. Could their lives get any more fucked up? He felt Sam looking at him, and muttered, "you shower first, then I'll get in."
Sam shook his head. "You've got more blood on you." After a moment, when it looked like he wasn't moving, Dean nodded. He slipped into the bathroom without looking back at Sam. As he stepped into the hot spray, he heard the door open. He resolutely stared at the wall and pulled the curtain shut.
A minute later, the curtain pulled back and Sam climbed in with him. Dean didn't know if he was surprised or not. His head jerked up and he saw his huge naked brother looking back at him intently. When he opened his mouth he wasn't sure what he was going to say, but Sam leaned down and gently pressed a kiss into his open mouth, pulling him snugly up against his half-wet half-dry body. Then he proceeded to mouth and nibble Dean's face and neck while the warm spray pulsed onto Dean's shoulders. Dean let him. He just let the hot water stream down and the gently questing mouth move over him. He finally muttered quietly, "Are you... Are... Help me out here, man. What are we doing here?"
Sam laughed softly and leaned his mouth up to Dean's ear. "I'm gonna soap you up and rinse you off and we're gonna get out of here and then I'm gonna make you come, Dean. I'm gonna make you scream." God, Sam drew out the last word until it sounded so dirty and wicked Dean couldn't breathe. It was like hearing a porn flick come to life.
Dean snapped his head up and his eyes lit on Sammy's. They held laughter, and joy. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't help spitting out a protest. "Sammy, you're straight. You've never looked at a guy in your life. And it's incest, Sam! For God's sake! That's beyond fucked up. And..." He didn't know what else to say. He couldn't deny he wanted it. Not with his cock standing up in between them, hard as a rock, a match to Sam's, he realized suddenly. He wanted nothing but to stare at his brother's cock like it was the holy grail. He pulled his eyes back up to Sam's face. He'd always read Sammy like a book. How could this be okay with his straight arrow baby brother?
Sam nodded. "You're right, Dean. I'm straight. You're straight." He said it evenly. "And this is fucking incest. But fuck normal! When have we ever been normal? You want this. I want this. We're not hurting anyone. For once in our lives we get something we want. No matter what anyone else thinks. So, yeah, we're doing this." He sounded defiant, like he expected Dean to fight with him.
Dean just kind of stared back, unable to think of anything to say. After a little while he lifted his hand and put it up to Sam's nipple and slowly rubbed a circle around it with his palm cupped, massaging it. He saw Sam's eyes flutter shut, and his head tilt back a little. He leaned forward and licked the same path with his tongue, swiping over the nipple itself this time. A little whimper came from Sam. Dean drew in a breath and closed his eyes and began exploring his brother's body for the first time.
He had deja vu, both new and not-new. He'd touched his brother so many times before. But he'd never touched his real brother this way before. And he was hungry, greedy for it. Denying himself this for so long, he couldn't bear to keep his hands off now. And his chest, and his cock. Oh, my god, Sam's cock felt so good, so real, so hot. He rubbed his abdomen back and forth, feeling both their cocks in between them, and it was so hot his eyes crossed when he looked down. He touched the tip of Sam's dick with his fingertips. It jumped, and Dean wanted to get down on his knees and take it in his mouth and show Sammy how much he loved him. The way he'd done so many times in Hell, when it was the only comfort he'd gotten.
But Sam pulled him back, and rubbed his body with soap on his big hands, and poured shampoo on his hair, and scrubbed at the blood there. So Dean grabbed the soap and did the same to Sam while greedily staring at his brother with all the want bleeding out of his eyes. Openly staring at Sam's beautiful naked body like he'd wanted to for so so long. When they were both finally clean Sam shut off the water and grabbed a towel. He rubbed Dean's skin and then his own, back and forth, staring at Dean like he might disappear if he so much as blinked. They stepped out into the steamy bathroom and Dean pulled open the door. Luckily it was only two steps to the bed, and Dean backed towards it holding onto Sam with both hands.
He climbed on the bed, and Sam leaned over him. Dean almost cried again. There weren't any words to say how this felt after imagining it so many times, and thinking he'd never live to get it. But then Sammy's hot body was pressing against his, and they were kissing again, and rubbing, and writhing. Their hands were exploring, and their mouths and tongues, and teeth. This was something Dean knew he was good at. He knew how to have sex. He even knew how to have sex with his brother already. The thought jolted him. That was the last real secret left. It wasn't fair to ever tell him of the profane nightmare that Alastair had perpetrated. How Dean had been so horrified at first, then come to depend on it to help him survive.
"Hey, Dean. Where are you?" His eyes leapt to Sam's and he crumbled, tears leaking again. He just shook his head. He couldn't tell him, even if he wanted to. He couldn't hurt him that way. "Hey, it's okay, Dean. Whatever it is, it's okay. Is it something from when you were in Hell?"
How the hell did Sammy always know? He bit through his tongue, making it bleed. Finally he tried just blurting it out. "Alastair... He used to use your shape to... to... ". He couldn't say it.
"Oh." With that one little word, Dean knew Sam had gotten it.
Dean brought his eyes to Sam's. His gorgeous eyes, once again, were full of love and nothing else. How the hell could he ignore this? "Oh, that's all you've got to say? Oh?"
"I'm so sorry, Dean. It was a terrible experience, but it's got nothing to do with how I feel about you. Or how you feel about me."
"You don't know. You don't know how it was."
"You're right. You wanna tell me?" It was a challenge, but he said it softly.
Dean paused. Then, "I hated it. At first. I hated him. But then... It got so it was what I lived for." His voice was low, dark, pleading. "I c couldn't just stop wanting it. You were the only thing in Hell that kept me sane. And you weren't real. You weren't you. Don't you see? I fell in love with you, and you weren't even you!" He knew he was yelling, but he couldn't stop.
"Dean, it's okay, it's okay! It's what got you back to me. It's okay. You have to stop beating yourself up about this. It doesn't hurt me! It's only hurting you! Not me!" Sam grabbed Dean's wrists and held them to his chest and shook them, like he was pushing his words into Dean.
Dean finally calmed down enough to breathe again. And suddenly, he felt like a weight had been lifted off him. His very last, very worst secret was out. And Sam was, unbelievably, still here. He hadn't run screaming away. He knew! And he was still here.
I love you." Sam's words bit into the silence. Dean stared up at him. He didn't understand, but he knew Sam meant it. "I love you."
"I love you too, Sammy." His eyes filled up again. Sam leaned down and kissed away the tears that spilled out, gently licking them off Dean's face. Lovingly. Dean felt something burst in his chest and he growled and kissed Sam again, his hard on coming back as he realized Sammy was lying on top of him and their dicks were side by side. He wanted Sammy in him right fucking now. He started to reach down to grip Sammy's cock but was surprised when Sam brushed him off and slid down his body to put his face in his crotch. Just the sight of Sam's mouth so close to his dick made Dean whimper. When Sam licked him from the base to the tip Dean almost lost it on the spot. He was mesmerized by the sight of Sammy's mouth sucking down Dean's cock. And the feeling, knowing it was really real, was beyond belief. And that was it. He came in Sam's mouth without even time to give warning. Like he was fourteen. But it was so fucking intense that he couldn't even speak for a couple of minutes.
When he got his breath back, he felt so blissed out he couldn't think for a moment, but then he knew he wanted Sam to fuck him. Now. He shoved his brother back and got off the bed. He leaned down to search his duffel by feel for the lube and condoms he knew were there, never taking his eyes off Sam. Then he stalked back to the bed and began seducing him as if he was the only person who existed in the whole fucking world. He wanted to worship Sammy the way he deserved, and this was the closest Dean was ever gonna get so he took his time, deliberately kissing and sucking and rubbing his brother's body. He wanted Sammy's first time to be amazing.
He bit down on the tender skin between his brother's legs, pouring the lube on his fingers while he sucked gently on the same spot, then slid his index finger up inside his own ass while he started worshipping his brother's cock. Sam groaned and panted, staring at Dean with wide, worried eyes. Dean muttered, "I got you, baby boy, just trust me. You're so gorgeous. I can't wait 'til your fucking beautiful cock is fucking me into the mattress. It's gonna feel so good." He added another finger to his ass, opening himself up while he swirled his tongue around his brother's cock. Sam was reduced to begging in a strangled voice, "please, for God's sake, Dean!" Dean's cock was half hard again just watching Sam before he pulled Sam over him, positioning him between his legs, pulling his own knees up to his shoulders so his ass was up in the air and vulnerable and Sammy could see him. All of him. The thought made his chest tighten with want and something more.
He cried out as Sammy's cock finally invaded his ass for real. He panted, trying to suck in enough air to breathe. The pain was all good pain. Fabulous, scintillating pain. Sharp, alive, long waited for pain.
He rocked his ass up against Sam, pushing Sammy's cock in deeper, faster, pulling Sam's hips down until his balls hit Dean's body. As deep as it got. He couldn't describe the feeling. He stopped and just crooned. "There, that's what I've waited for. I've wanted you for so long. Deep inside me. Fucking me, pounding me. Hurting me." He felt Sam flinch and looked up and smiled. He almost felt sad for some reason, it was so good.
"Please, Sam. It's all good. Fuck me, please." Something in his rough voice must have convinced Sam, because he pulled slowly out and slammed back in, starting a pulsing rhythm that Dean's very soul cried out for. He could hardly move for the joy of it, the memories tied up with the want and the love choking him. It only took a few deep strong pushes and Dean was coming untouched, shooting his come onto his stomach, trembling and crying out with tears streaming down his face.
And then it took only a few more strokes before Sam came, crying out, "Dean!" and seeing his real brother's face as he came apart over him was more and better than he'd even dreamed. And after his brother came down from the high of his orgasm, he'd finally broken down and cried in Dean's arms. His hopes and fears and love and pain came pouring out in the darkness of the quiet motel room. And that, more than anything Sam could have said, convinced Dean that Sam wasn't just here because he knew Dean wanted him. He finally started to believe that this was real. He'd loved Sam long before he went to Hell. Hell had just changed the way he was addicted. And he'd been out of Hell long enough to know his obsession wasn't going to go away. There was no going back. As long as Sam would put up with him, he was here. For the whole fucking marathon.
Dean lay back on the motel bed and stared at the ugly ceiling, listening to Sam's slow, easy breathing as he lay tucked into his side. He could almost believe he really was here. With Sam and out of Hell. And Dean realized he'd never quite believed he was truly out of Hell until this moment.