![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Sam can barely get the door open, because Dean’s all over him from behind, hands everywhere, pushing his hips into his ass. “Hold on, Dean, let me,” Sam says, pushing the door open. They fall into the room together in a flurry of wet clothes being yanked off. Dean’s got Sam up against one of the walls, biting at his neck and running his hands down his sides. Sam feels it deep in his core when his hard cock rubs against Dean’s for the first time; they both react as if they were stung or bitten, but it turns from surprise into pleasure quickly when Dean takes them both in hand. He strokes them firmly, slowly, twisting a little at the heads.
“What do you want, Sammy?”
“You. Just you,” Sam answers, because that’s the only answer. It’s always been the only answer to a question he’s been waiting for what seems like he his whole life.
“You have me. What do you want?” Dean asks again, still gripping their cocks together in one hand.
Sam groans at the thoughts that assail him, images stored up from long ago of catching Dean with various girlfriends in compromising positions. His lips, it always comes back to that first, whenever he thinks of Dean this way. “Your lips, want them on me,” Sam manages to say.
Dean answers by softly kissing his way down Sam’s chest, biting gently at his nipples until Sam gasps. He sinks to his knees and Sam is pretty sure he’s never imagined anything as blinding sexy as this sight. Dean’s lips encircle the tip of his cock, his green eyes blown near black look up at him and see right through him. And that’s what he wants, he needs Dean to see it all, how much he wants this, how much he needs it.
Dean takes him in most of the way on the first try, until Sam hits the back of his throat. Sam can’t help pulsing his hips a little at the feeling and Dean’s hands come up to hold his hipbones in a hard grasp, pushing him against the wall. Dean chuckles then and the vibrations make a tremor begin that flows through Sam’s whole body until he thinks he’s going to collapse.
Dean’s mouth just engulfs him then, takes him all the way in, so perfectly hot, wet, tight, and he wants to hold back, but it’s too good, and he can’t say anything except Dean’s name, moaned over and over again in a voice that he doesn’t even recognize. He feels his balls pulling up tight and tries to warn Dean, but can’t in time, but Dean just keeps going, right through the most blissful orgasm Sam’s ever had. He feels every place where they touch as a bright spark of pleasure in his body, all of it a net that encompasses everything and it all focuses and pours out of him into Dean, and Dean swallows it all down, moaning just as loudly as he does.
Sam’s surprised he’s still standing, but he’s glad he’s got the wall supporting him. He feels the exquisite torment of Dean cleaning him with little kitten licks and shivers. He reaches down to pull Dean back up to standing and is pleasantly surprised to feel how wet Dean is all over. He palms his brother’s cock and feels it strain to harden in his hand.
“Did you already?” Sam asks, embarrassed to be bashful.
“Uh huh,” Dean murmurs, kissing under Sam’s jawline. They both shiver again, this time from being cold and wet which had kind of gotten forgotten in the heated rush. “Let’s go to bed, and get warmed up,” Dean says, pulling Sam towards the enormous bed by one hand.
They arrange themselves in the spooning arrangement they’re familiar with from childhood, big brother Dean holding onto Sam. But it feels strange because of their sizes and shapes. Sam turns over and faces him instead, pulling him into the circle of his arms, pleased when Dean comes willingly.
“You always this easy?” Sam asks.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Dean answers.
“We’re really doing this huh?” Sam asks, suddenly feeling very drowsy.
“That’s what it feels like to me, Sammy,” Dean says patiently.
“Good, me too,” Sam says, closing his eyes at the sight of the relief on Dean’s face. He hasn’t felt this safe, or this complete, or this happy in years. It’s a good way to fall asleep, no threat of nightmares, no worry about imminent death.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
“So Nick was killing people, just because he got left out of the will?” Sam asks, wondering, no hoping, that this will become a new tradition for them, breaking down a finished case wrapped up in bed together.
“Yeah, that’s what he said, but he didn’t get to say much more before he tripped and fell off the cliff out there by the pool. It’s a long way down, and I didn’t have to kill him, before you ask,” Dean says.
“I don’t mean to nag you about it Dean, but you promised you’d tell me if anything changed with the Mark,” Sam reminds him.
“So, I heard you call the preta thing Nick Hollenbeck, was he the original lodge owner?”
“Yeah, I looked it up in the county records when you were out finding our current Nick. He was the one who must have made a backroom deal back at the lodge’s founding to tie in his hotel operations to the water treatment plant. He died and was buried before anyone had a service for him, and the guilt and remorse for what he did, the price his family would have to eventually pay for the water deal turned him into a hungry ghost.”
“How was the water deal something to be so guilty about?” Dean asks.
“The lodge had illegally hooked up their system to empty into the municipal waters, a whole lot cheaper that way. Comes down to greedy dishonesty,” Sam answers.
“Greedy ghost bastards, glad you got rid of him, Sammy,” Dean says.
“I’m glad that ghost said that so you could hear it. I feel like it’s been most of my life I was keeping that secret,” Sam says, emboldened by the closeness they just experienced in this bed, now their bed.
“Same here, it got pretty damn tiring trying to hide that from you,” Dean admits.
Sam kisses him deeply as a reward for honesty, or no, more as a thank-you, an encouragement for more of it between them.
“Did you figure out how could you see that thing, when I couldn’t?” Dean asks, running his hand up and down Sam’s bare back until he shivers.
“Yeah, it was my shamanic mental state,” Sam answers with a grin.
“Your shamanic what now?” Dean asks.
“It’s from all the possessions, my mind isn’t like most other peoples. So much of the furniture’s been rearranged in there, you know?”
Dean’s hand stops moving and he hangs his head for a moment. Then he looks up and holds Sam’s face between his hands, gentle, so gentle now. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never apologized. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I took on the Mark.”
Sam looks at his brother, at what it cost him to hold that in for so long, at what courage it takes for him to apologize now for his actions. “I know you are,” Sam says, grateful that Dean’s finally managed to say the words out loud. “And we are going to figure out how to get rid of the Mark. Even if I have to summon Cain myself and make him take it back.”
“Not yet though,” Dean says, snuggling down into the covers, pulling Sam in with him. “Want to stay in here with you for a while at least.”
Sam doesn’t say anything, just lets himself relax into his brother’s embrace, feeling his warmth seep into the spaces that he’s being keeping open, hoping for Dean to take them over eventually. There’s a feeling of finally that makes him very very happy.
~Fin~
no subject
Date: 2015-01-01 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-02 09:24 pm (UTC)Thank you for this, and Happy New Year to you, hon! *hugs* May 2015 be a wonderful year for you, and since I'm selfish and greedy, may it bring many more amazing ficcish gifts from you to us! ;)
no subject
Date: 2015-01-05 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-09 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-09-11 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-17 03:53 pm (UTC)