Chapter Text
Sam wakes up on high alert, adrenaline rush spiking his breathing and his heart rate. He sits up, trying to push through sleep-fog to figure out what had woken him.
He hears it again. Someone—or something—is in their apartment. And they aren’t trying to be quiet.
Sam slips out of bed. Beside him, Jessica stirs but does not wake.
For the first time since he left for college, Sam wishes he still kept a knife or his gun underneath his pillow or by his bed. He left those behind when he put his old life in his rear view mirror.
But he is not defenseless, far from it. Sam may no longer train, but his body still remembers. Sam evens out his breathing and his heart rate. He moves through the apartment silently, eyes continually searching for whatever it was that had woken him.
“Hiya, Sammy.”
Sam’s heart stops beating. Like full on stop.
There’s no way.
Not when he’s come so far.
Sam steps further into the kitchen. Dean’s leaning against the sink, casually drinking a bottle of beer. One of Sam’s beers.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asks.
“Came to get you.” Dean finishes it in one long gulp before turning and dropping the bottle into the sink. There’s a loud clinking sound as it hits the porcelain.
“Dean, I’m—”
There is a sound behind him and then the light is turned on. Sam turns to see Jessica standing there. She’s wearing the pajamas she wore to bed, her favorite with the Smurf. Sam feels an intense need to shield her and he doesn’t know why. Sure, Dean just showed out of nowhere and he broke into their apartment, but it’s Dean. Dean wouldn’t harm her. Wouldn’t harm anyone or anything except for monsters.
“Sam, what’s going on?” Jess asks
“Uh, this is—” Sam begins, gesturing to Dean. Who he still can’t believe is here. In his apartment. Standing right there.
Sam fights an urge to pinch himself to see if he’s asleep.
“Sam’s lover,” Dean says, interrupting Sam. “You must be the bit he picked up on the side. I can see why she turned your head, Sammy. Such a pretty little thing, bet she tastes as sweet as she looks.” Dean winks at Jessica. “I love the Smurfs.”
“Ex. Ex-lover,” Sam hurriedly interjects, cheeks burning while giving Dean a ‘what the hell’ look. They have never told anyone their dirty little secret. Why is Dean telling Jessica now? Besides, it’s been over four years since they last touched each other that way. And Sam has moved on. He thought Dean had too—after all they had both agreed that thing between them was over.
“Sure, we can play it that way.” Dean walks up to Jessica, hand outstretched. “Name’s Dean, pleased to meet you.”
Jessica looks at Sam before hesitantly taking Dean’s hand. “I’m Jess—wait, didn’t you tell me your brother’s name was Dean?” she asks Sam, dropping Dean’s hand.
Dean smirks as he looks up at Sam. “Yeah, Sammy, didn’t you tell sweet little Jessica here that your brother’s name is Dean?”
Sam has no idea what is going on with Dean. Maybe he’s drunk. Or high. It wouldn’t be the first time for either. Except he’s been around drunk and high Dean and he didn’t act anything like this.
“Hey, Jessica, Dean and I need to have a little talk. I’m going to walk him to his car,” Sam says to Jessica.
“Okay.” Jessica’s clearly freaked out by this situation and who could blame her? Sam will make it up to her as soon as he sends Dean on his merry way.
“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about, Sammy. For one thing, Dad’s missing,” Dean says.
Sam walks to the apartment door. It's open just slightly, Dean clearly picked the lock to break into the apartment. Dean stays where he is, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave.
“Missing?” Jessica asks. “Your—dad? Does this mean this guy is your brother? Cause I’m really confused right now.”
“It’s complicated, I will explain it when I get back,” Sam promises.
“Might take him a few days, we need to go look for the old man.” Dean is smiling. Like he’s enjoying himself despite all the tension in the air.
“No, we don’t.” Whatever game Dean is playing he’ll have to play it alone. Sam’s going to stay here and try to fix this with Jessica. He’s got no idea what hell kind of story he’s going to make up to explain all of this, but he’ll come up with something. He’ll tell her Dean is his step-brother, or a chronic liar, or whatever. “Dad’s just on an overtime Miller time shift. He’s fine.”
“Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home for a few days.”
If Dean’s trying to convey that their father might be in some kind of trouble, he’s eerily calm about it.
Sam wants to say he doesn’t give a shit. Not after Dad threw him out of the family, told him never to come back, acted like Sam never mattered to him at all. It’s been four years, but it still hurts like hell.
Sam turns his thoughts back to the present. Dean still doesn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. In fact, he's back to leaning against the sink, his arms folded like he hasn't a care in the world.
“Gonna come with me, Sammy?” Dean asks.
“I already said I wasn’t,” Sam snaps back. “Look, I’ll walk you to the car and we can talk. But that’s it, my life is here and I’m not leaving. Good luck finding Dad.”
“Hey, Jessica. Did Sam tell you about that time we spent four days up in Yosemite? Kid must have been sixteen—maybe seventeen. We had such big plans but Sammy here was insat—”
“I’ll go with you,” Sam interjects quickly, desperate to cut Dean off before he tells the rest of that story. “Just, go wait outside by the steps. I’ll be there in just a few moments.”
He’s going to kill Dean for this. Slowly. But he has to get Dean away from Jessica before his whole future goes up in smoke.
“You’ve got two minutes. Or I’m coming back in—and I’m going to finish that story,” Dean warns. He looks back at Jessica. “Nice meeting you, sweetheart. You might want to give our boy a goodbye kiss, because he’s probably not coming back.”
“I’m coming back,” Sam snaps at Dean before turning toward Jessica. “I’m coming back,” he repeats, his voice softer. “I swear it, Jessica. And we’ll talk.”
“Two minutes.” As Dean walks past Sam, his fingers trail over the top of Sam’s pajama bottoms. Sam shivers.
Fuck. He can’t let Dean affect him like this.
“Sam, you aren’t really going with him, are you?” Jessica asks. “And I need to know—is he your brother or isn’t he?”
Brother. Protector. Savior. Caretaker. Lover. Ex-lover, Sam reminds himself. The first person that Sam ever loved. The first person he kissed. The one he gave all his firsts to.
The man who shattered Sam’s heart into so many pieces that even after four years parts of his heart are still missing.
The parts that belong to Dean—scattered, battered, but still clinging to that love. .
“He’s—not.” He can’t even look Jessica in the eye as he tries to force the lie through his lips. “We grew up together, we thought of each other as brothers until—look, I’ve got to pack some things. I swear I will be back.” Sam—desperate to get away from Jessica’s too-trusting eyes—heads for the bedroom.
“Do you still love him?” Jessica asks, following Sam.
No.
Yes.
Fuck.
“I—it’s really complicated. But me and him—we broke up four years ago. There’s been no one since you, Jess. There will never be anyone else,” Sam swears. He puts his knapsack on the bed and then pulls Jessica to him, intending to kiss her. But Jessica pulls her head back.
“I will never forgive you if you cheat on me.” Jessica pulls the rest of the way out of Sam’s arms. “And remember you have that interview on Monday.”
“I’m not going to cheat on you with Dean or anyone else,” Sam promises. “And I will be back for my law school interview. You have my word on both.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound okay. “You’d better get going, let me know how things turn out with your dad.”
“I will. I promise,” Sam replies.
Ten minutes later, he slips into the passenger seat of Dean’s car. Dean barely lets him shut the car door before he starts the car.
“What the hell was that back there?” Sam demands.
Dean flicks his eyes over to Sam before looking at the road again. “What has your panties in a twist?”
“What has—” Sam sputters. “First you show up out of nowhere. You break into my apartment. Then you—you told Jessica we were lovers.”
Dean shrugs. “We were.”
“We don’t go around—why would you think it was okay to tell Jessica that?” Sam asks. “Do you know how fucked up that is?”
Dean pulls out onto the road. “What’s fucked up is shacking up with a girl who knows nothing about you. Did you tell her about what we hunt, Sam? Did you tell her what we did in the dark? Did you tell her how you begged me to pop your cherry that night in Denver? Did you tell her that you are still in love with me?”
“I’m not still in love with you,” Sam replies. “And no, I didn’t tell her any of that shit. Why would I?”
“Maybe because it’s the truth. And you can lie to her, but not to me. You are still in love with me.” Dean looks over at Sam and smirks before turning down a side street. “That’s okay, I know how lovable I am.”
“Are you drunk? Or high?” Sam asks.
“No, I’m perfectly sober. Well, except for that fancy-ass beer I drank at your place. You might want to take a nap, Sammy. We’ve got a fairly long drive,” Dean says.
“To where Dad is?” Sam asks.
“Oh, now you are oh-so-concerned about Dad. It’s touching, really. Yes, or where he was last time I heard from him.” Dean grabs a cassette and pushes it in. Sam’s stomach does a funny flip when he hears Metallica blasting over the tinny speakers. “I’ll tell you about the case he was working when he vanished when we get there. Get some sleep while you can.”
It’s been so long since he was in Dean’s car, listening to Dean’s music. The last time was that summer after he graduated high school when Dean drove him back to the motel room they were staying in. A day later, Sam had walked into that same motel room and found Dean in bed with one of the maids.
No, not going there. No trips down memory lane. Sam’s only focus is on the future. He’s going to help Dean find Dad, then he’s going to smooth things over with Jessica, then he’s going to ace that interview for law school.
There’s nothing Dean can say or do to change any of that.
Sam looks over at Dean. Dean is still as beautiful now as he was the last time Sam saw him. He’s changed though, and not just personality-wise. He seems skinnier, and Dean was always slender. He looks almost gaunt.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks. “I mean, physically?”
“Are you asking if all my parts still work? Yes, everything still works,” Dean looks over at Sam, that infuriating smirk back on his lips. “I’ll give you a demonstration later if you’d like.”
Sam can feel his cheeks heat. “Nothing is going to happen between us, Dean. I’m with Jessica now.”
“Uh-huh.” Dean reaches over and turns the volume on the cassette player up.
It seems to take forever to get to Jericho. A few times, Sam tries to talk to Dean, but Dean just turns the volume up every time he does so Sam gives up. By the time they reach Jericho, Sam’s head is pounding and his emotions are a wreck.
To be sitting so close to Dean after all this time.
He shouldn’t want to be with Dean, not after everything that happened between them. Not when he has Jessica.
But he’s missed him. There’s no denying that. Dean had always been there, a constant in a life always in flux, until that horrible day in that motel room. He shouldn’t forgive Dean for that. He hasn’t forgiven Dean. And whatever is going on with Dean isn’t Sam’s problem. Not anymore.
But there is no denying there is something off with Dean, not only with his physical appearance but also how he is acting. The Dean Sam used to know would have never told anyone about their sexual relationship, he hid that shame the same way Sam did. Now, he’s practically flaunting it. Not practically—he is flaunting it.
It’s so confusing.
And so weird to be in Dean’s car.
They’ve pulled into the parking lot of a motel before Sam realizes he hasn’t thought about Dad at all. Is he really missing? He must be. Dean wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why would he?
“So, about Dad…”
Dean parks and turns off the car. “We’ll worry about him in a bit. Let’s get a room, you look beat.”
“I’m fine,” Sam replies. And then immediately yawns.
Dean grins. “It’s going to be dawn soon. You can take a short nap then we’ll figure it out. If Dad is still here, we’ll find him.”
Sam would probably be able to think better if his mind wasn’t so fuzzy. “Okay.”
Dean goes to rent a room while Sam gets their bags from the trunk of Dean’s car. The trunk is full of weapons, almost all of them familiar to Sam. It’s like time has stood still for Dean while Sam spent the last four years at college. He’s still hunting. Still has the same car. Still listens to the same music. Everything exactly the same—except for Dean himself.
Dean exits the motel lobby and nods toward a door at the end of the building. Sam shuts the trunk and follows Dean.
Dean opens the door and flicks on the light. It looks the same as the hundreds of no-tell motels they’ve stayed at over the years with one glaring exception.
There is only one bed.
“Dean?”
“All they had. I’m not sleepy anyway. You grab ten and I’ll take a shower. There’s a diner down the street, we can eat breakfast there and then figure this thing out.”
“Sam puts his knapsack down on the floor. “You’ve been here before?”
Dean’s got his knapsack open, rummaging for something. “What?”
“You said there’s a diner down the street. You’ve been here before?” Sam asks.
Dean pulls his t-shirt off.
Sam’s brain stutters to a complete stop.
He’s still wearing the amulet Sam gave him all those years ago. He’s been working out, or maybe it’s all the digging up of graves, but his shoulders and chest are broader than Sam remembers. He is definitely skinnier though, his stomach so flat it almost seems conclave.
Sam’s eyes travel further down without his permission. Is—that a bulge? Is Dean hard?
Sam swallows, his throat suddenly Sahara-dry.
“Like what you see?” Dean asks.
Sam’s eyes shoot up to meet Dean’s. He flushes guiltily. “You’re really skinny. Are you sure you’ve been feeling okay?”
“That’s not what caught your attention.” Dean walks toward Sam, his hand on his belt. “Have you missed me, Sammy? Because I sure as hell missed you.”
“No—I mean yes, Dean, of course. But not—I’m with Jessica now,” Sam stammers.
Dean looks up at him, his head cocked. “Are you reminding me or yourself?”
“I’m—I really should take a nap, like you said.”
“My little brother, always running away.” Dean reaches up and grabs the back of Sam’s head, pulling Sam’s head down.
Sam wants to pull away, he does. This is wrong. This thing between him and Dean has always been so wrong. Especially now.
He opens his mouth to say ‘no’, but Dean’s lips are already on his, Dean’s tongue is inside his mouth. Dean’s body is pressed against his, Dean’s obvious hard-on pressing into Sam’s thigh.
He can’t think. Not when Dean smells the same, tastes the same, feels the same.
This is wrong. So fucking wrong.
One of Dean’s hands press against Sam’s lower back. He’s pulling on Sam’s hair with the other, that slight sting that Sam hasn’t felt for years. Sam’s cock—always confused about the difference between pain and pleasure, desire and shame when it comes to Dean begins to harde
“No one has to know,” Dean whispers. “It’s not cheating, not when it’s us. I’ve missed you so damn much, Sammy. Let me have this. Let me have this moment with you. Then you can go back to your apple-pie life and I won’t ever bother you again.”
Sam pulls back. “Is Dad even missing?”
“He was. I found him.” Dean shrugs.
Sam starts to pull further away, but Dean seems disinclined to let him go. “You lied to me.” Sam tries to wiggle his way out of his brother’s arms. Dean grips Sam’s hips tightly, his fingers digging in deep enough to bruise.
Pain and pleasure. Desire and shame. He should stop this. But—
It’s Dean.
“What’s a little white lie between brothers?” Dean asks. He releases his death grip on Sam’s hips and his hands make their way down Sam’s back to cup his ass. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this—that you don’t want me—and I’ll drive you right back to your little pretty girlfriend who will never be able to give you what you need.”
“And you can?” Sam asks.
“Haven’t I always?” Dean replies. “Remember our first time, Sammy? Worked you open slowly as you squirmed and begged so prettily. By the time I pushed my cock into you, you were already a mess. But I took care of you. I made you feel so good. That time and every time after that. I can again, if you let me.”
“I—” No. The word he’s searching for is no.
He needs to think about Jessica. Jessica and her soft body and her soft words and the way she gives and gives every time they make love.
So different than Dean. Dean who could be as rough as he could be gentle. Dean who always sensed what Sam needed, always gave him exactly what his body was craving. Dean who had driven Sam crazy with want and need in a way no one else ever has.
The little voice in his head that Sam always tries to ignore adds—not even Jessica.
Sam’s cock is hard in his jeans. His need for Dean feels as desperate as it did when he was sixteen.
And he’s just as crazy in love with him. He had spent four years trying to convince himself that love was dead and buried. But he had known, deep down, that not loving Dean was impossible as not breathing.
He loves Jessica, but whereas that love is a gentle light, this thing with Dean has always burned bright enough to scorch them both.
One last time to lock that door behind him forever. They never had closure. After Sam had walked in on Dean in that motel room, they had never touched each other again. He’s spent so many nights dreaming of Dean after falling to sleep with Jessica in his arms. Maybe, this way, he can banish Dean once and for all.
Somehow Dean’s worked his hand inside Sam’s jeans. He’s caressing Sam’s boxer-covered ass with his fingers. “Yes?” Dean asks, kissing Sam again. No one kisses like Dean. Dean kisses like he needs Sam’s kiss as much as he needs air, like he’s desperate to set every cell in Sam’s body on fire. “Gonna let me make you feel good, little brother?”
It’s Dean and he’s right here and his hands are on Sam and Sam has missed him so damn much. Even loving Jessica hasn’t eased the pain of losing Dean.
Just once. And maybe Dean will stop haunting his dreams. Just once and maybe he’ll never ache for Dean again. Just once.
Sam’s lost a battle he never even suited up for.
“Yes,” he agrees. “Just this once. And then never again, Dean.”
“Never again,” Dean agrees. Something flashes in his eyes—something…dark. It's gone so fast it’s easy for Sam to convince himself he imagined it—which he must have because this is Dean. Dean’s smile is big and easy as he pushes Sam toward the bed. “Take your clothes off.”
They undress at the same time, both quickly. Sam’s eager to touch Dean, to be touched again. He pushes the feeling of shame and guilt away. It’s second nature by now, he’s had a lot of practice over the years.
One last goodbye.
He lies on the bed, stroking his cock. Dean stands beside him. As Sam had guessed, Dean’s cock is already hard. Sam licks his lips, remembering the taste and feel of Dean’s cock in his mouth.
Sam’s phone dings. He starts to sit up, but Dean pushes him back down. “Whoever that is can wait. If this is our last time, let this just be about us. You and me, nothing or no one else matters right now.”
Sam nods and lies back down.
“I want to see you keep on stroking that pretty cock of yours. I want you to be so fucking hard when I push inside of you,” Dean says. “But no coming, little brother. Not until I’m balls deep inside of you.”
Sam groans. Dean taking charge in the bedroom has always been such a turn-on for him. Pre-come is dripping from the tip of his cock. He uses it to ease the way as he brings himself closer and closer to the edge.
“Close your eyes.” The command in Dean's voice clear even through his soft tone. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” Sam asks. His cock is already so hard and sensitive. If Dean doesn’t get to the fucking soon, he’s going to go off like a geyser.
“Close your eyes if you want to find out,” Dean replies firmly.
Sam does. He hears some rustling and then something clicks, the sound loud in the silent room. Unable to help himself, Sam’s eyes fly open. Dean’s standing by the bed, an open bottle of lube in one hand. That must have been the clicking sound Sam heard. Fuck, he’s so edge he’s overreacting to everything.
In his other hand, Dean is holding a cock ring.
“Yes?” Dean asks.
Sam stops stroking his cock. This is a game they had started playing shortly after Sam turned eighteen, a handful of weeks before that awful night in the motel. Dean likes the control, Sam likes surrendering it. “Yes,” Sam replies eagerly.
It’s only when Dean is thrusting deep inside of him, that Sam regrets that decision. Dean’s got his hands pinned over his head. He’s got Sam’s knees practically pulled up to his shoulders. And he’s pounding into Sam relentlessly. Sam can’t even begin to form words, all he can do is groan as Dean’s cock hits his prostate with uncanny accuracy, which just seems to amuse Dean.
Sam’s cock hurts. He knows he’s leaking gallons of precome as Dean pounds into him again and again.
“Fucking made for my cock, Sammy. Always have been, always will be,” Dean says. “Tell me, did you think about me and you like this when you were sinking into sweet little Jessica?”
Sam shakes his head no. Dean grips Sam’s hands tighter and shoves into Sam, slamming his cock into Sam’s prostate. “Don’t you lie to me,” he growls.
Sam hesitates, then nods. It’s never been any use lying to Dean.
Dean chuckles. “I thought so. Want to come, Sammy?” he asks. He’s back to thrusting into Sam hard and fast. He never used to have this much stamina, certainly not for how hard he’s fucking Sam. The bed is shaking with each thrust and the headboard is rattling ominously.
Sam nods because he very much would like to come before his cock just explodes on its own, cock ring or no cock ring.
“Leave those there,” Dean warns, before letting go of Sam’s hands. He lifts Sam’s thighs and shoves into him again. “I’m gonna need words, Sam. Do you want to come?”
“Yes, De’,” Sam replies. “Yes, please.”
“You are so damn beautiful, pinned on my cock the way you are. You want to know a secret, Sammy?” Dean asks. He leans over Sam, grinding his cock into Sam’s hole. “I’ve ruined you for everyone else. You will never be normal, Sam. Jessica or any other sweet little thing will never be enough for you. You will always crave my cock.”
Dean releases Sam’s cock ring and Sam’s orgasm explodes out of him. It feels like he’s being taken apart, molecule by molecule, as his body shakes with the force of his release.
Dean’s movements stutter and he comes too, emptying inside of Sam.
Shit, he didn’t make Dean wear a condom. No telling where Dean’s cock has been. Before he has sex with Jessica again he’ll have to—
Jessica. He’s been away from her for a few hours and he’s already cheated on her.
Sam pushes at Dean. “Get off of me.”
Dean just laughs as he pulls out. “And there’s the guilt, right on schedule. It’s fine, Sam. She’ll never know. After all, you’ve been a pro at keeping secrets from her. This is just one more.”
Sam struggles to his feet. He feels shaky still, and for a moment he sways before steadying himself by resting one hand on the headboard. He needs to shower, get dressed, make Dean take him back to Jessica.
Sam doesn’t see the fist coming. He feels a sharp pain and then his world goes dark.