A Slave of Him

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: M for language, sex, slash, incest, amnesia, mentions of supernatural things, (oh no, really?)

etc.

Pairings: Dean/Sam

Setting: Mid-S4, directly in the middle of the ep "It's A Terrible Life"

Summary: They started out with their memories forgotten, then comes along a little ghost, and some angels and memories return. That might have been the end of it. If they hadn't slept together first.

~*~

"Come on, Dean."

"For the last time, dude, it's no."

Sam lets out a breath of frustration. "I know you are just as curious as I am about this ghost, if not more."

"And what part of no do you not get? Goddamn but you're stubborn."

Sam sets his shoulders. "Maybe I am. But you are also in some serious denial. You know what you saw, as well as I do. It was a ghost. You can't shut your eyes to the truth to this."

Dean whips around to turn to him, having been looking away the last couple of minutes, coming around in desk to stand in front of the taller man. He jabs him hard in the chest with a finger.

"And why the hell not? It's none of my damned business. You can do whatever the hell you want, but keep me out of it." He loses some of his heat, backing off a bit, voice laced with weariness. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

Sam stays firm. He knew he was right about this. Just like he was right about Dean. There was just something about the man. Familiar yes, but something else as well. He sensed a strength from the man, a curiousness, and a fire that was barely being held in check. He just had to stay firm. He knew, though he wasn't sure just how he knew, that if he kept at it, that Dean would finally cave.

"And if you really didn't want to go after this ghost, then why didn't you just kick my ass outside? I've been standing here for minutes, Dean," Sam pointed out. "And you haven't done a damned thing, except some words."

Dean clenches his jaw, glancing away from him again. His heart beats a little faster in his chest as he looks at the man's face, eyes traveling from his jawline, past the sun-soaked skin to his slightly parted lips. He glances away quickly, heart thumping, wondering just why he felt like he was the proverbial Adam looking at the Forbidden Fruit. And Dean was a guy. That just wasn't...there wasn't anything wrong with that, but he wasn't...

"I'll go." Dean suddenly says through clenched teeth.

The statement causes Sam to look back at the man. He grins, not noticing the startled look in Dean's eyes as he does so, eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Then let's get to it."

~*~

After all that excitement, the fact that they had to go and sit at a desk and stare at a computer, was a bit of a downer, but he had found (well okay, Sam had found) a website which could help them to combat the ghost. He snorts. Combat the ghost. Jesus...

The fact that what they were doing felt right, well, Sam didn't have to know that.

"So this website has what we need?" Dean asks Sam, glancing up at him from where he sat. Damn freakishly tall dude. He aggressively ignored the thing called his eyes, which helpfully pointed out the obvious sculpted muscle on the man. He was damned if he would listen to crazy talk. He didn't like men. And...and there was nothing to discuss because he didn't see anything!

"Yeah. These are real live Ghost Hunters. The actual real deal. They can tell us what we need to fight this thing."

"And if they're so great, couldn't we just call them and be done with it?" He suggests, waving a hand around. "Let them work their magic?"

"Well for one thing, if we somehow did manage to get ahold of them and they agreed to come, by the time they came, there could be a dozen more killings, if not more."

"Yeah..."

"And..." Sam glances at Dean. "I know you want to kick this things ass, Dean. So why not just say you do?"

Cause then I'd have to admit you were right. And you'd smirk at me and lord it over me for days...wait. Thought Dean. Why the hell would I think something like that? I mean, I barely know him...

"Whatever." grunts Dean.

Sam merely shakes his head, fighting a smile as the Ghostfacers program pops up.

"Hello! Ghostfacers here. And this is "What to do if you have a ghost problem--"

~*~

"Well," Sam says, stepping back from the desk. "At least we know why the wrench worked."

"Yeah," said Dean, stretching his arms above his head. "Though that bit you did with the door was still pretty sweet."

"Thanks. And did you notice that they really hate the Winchesters?"

Sam tries to pretend he doesn't notice the muscles underneath Dean's shirt contract as the man finishes stretching.

"Yep," replied Dean, walking over to his fridge. "And I have this strange urge to lay the smackdown on them. Maybe it's their ugly mugs."

Sam shrugs, having to turn away now as Dean leans down, opening the fridge. He needed to get his shit together and fast. He was having illicit thoughts about a guy he barely knew, and a man at that! It must have been all of his dreams. They were messing up his head in a big way. It just screamed of wrong, as if it was something to be fought and tried to forget about--no matter how much you may have wanted it--yet at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to push the now standing Dean, up against the refrigerator and--

"So, dude. I have tea--good cleanser--and uh, more tea. I also have wat--"

Sam snaps. He stalks over to where Dean turns to look at him, his eyes widening. He pushes Dean up against the refridgerator, containers of tea falling to the ground and quickly forgotten about.

"What the hell do you think you're doi--"

He leans in, grabbing onto Dean's shirt and kisses him hungrily. It felt like both a homecoming and a damnation. He feels the man stiffen up for a moment, the point in time feeling like an eternity, before, finally, he feels Dean's hands wrap his around his waist, pulling him close, kissing him back deeply, eyes closed hard. They stood that way for who knew how long, every problem and worry melted away, cliched as that might have sounded, but it was true. It felt like a impossible dream was coming to life, something which you always dream about, but it never comes to fruition; the dream being bigger than you could accomidate.

They both pull back in mutual need of oxygen and his groin pulses hard at the sight of Dean, panting slightly, face flushed and lips slightly parted before he licks them.

"Sammy--"

He was helpless at the sound of that voice. As he always was--

~*~

It was a bit awkward, the dance to the bedroom, clothes getting thrown here and there as they get there, barely pausing long enough in their kissing to get anything actually off. He hadn't done anything like this with a man before. He didn't think Sam had either. He knew mechanics well enough with a girl, that was like riding a bicycle, but this was...he didn't want to mess anything up. It...it felt important.

They finally make it to the bed itself, with Dean kicking off a last shoe, hungrily kissing Sam again, unable to get enough of just kissing him, feeling as if he had waited forever to do this and never could.

"Dean." The breathless sound of Sam's voice alone was enough to make him completely hard.

He pushes the taller man to the bed and takes the time to gaze up and down his body, frowning slightly as he notices a few faint scars on the man, some barely noticible, some notible, such as one that wrapped around one hip, hardly able to be seen and one down across his stomach.

"What are you looking at?" asked Sam quietly, as if afraid to break the mood.

Dean traces a hand around the scar on Sam's hip, making him shiver. "Just looking at your collection of scars." He leans up to kiss Sam again.

"But I don't have any--" He starts, before getting cut off by Dean's invading mouth.

Dean pushes apart Sam's legs, leaning in, letting out a shivering breath as his cock rubs up against Sam's stomach.

"I've never--" started Dean.

"Neither have I," said Sam a little breathlessly, rubbing himself up against Dean, causing both of them to moan. "But we'll figure something out."

~*~

It was times like these that Dean was glad for the lotion he always kept on his nightstand--what? Waking up with dry skin is a bitch! Not like he had any experience with this kind of thing, but nevertheless, he was grateful.

He squirts a bit onto his hands, looking away from Sam, sure that the man was laughing at him and his inexperience--goddamn but he felt like a teenager fumbling with a bra for the first time. He leans back over to a patient looking Sam and if not for the tiny bit of nervousness that Dean could see in the man's eyes, Sam looked the epitome of calm, relaxed posture and everything as he looked up at Dean.

He decided to forgo whatever he was about to say--sure he was about to put his foot in his mouth--and slides one finger into the man below him, watching as Sam's body tenses. He grimaces slightly at the feeling of the lotion and the pressure as he moves it slowly inside.

"What's wrong now?"

"It's a bit weird, alright," snapped Dean.

"Yeah?" Sam snapped back. "Well you're not the one with a finger in your--"

He shuts up as Dean slides another finger inside.

"Shut up and let me fuck you."

~*~

He holds back a groan as he continues to thrust inside. It was a bit weird at first, and it felt a bit strange, but soon it felt so damned incredible that he would not have stopped for anything. He holds tightly onto Sam's sides, looking down at the man underneath him. Sam had his eyes closed tightly, biting slightly on his lower lip.

"Sam..."

Sam's eyes open and look up at him. The intensity in them was so intense that he cries out, coming almost seconds later. Sam soon follows, crying out Dean's name, a splash of white hitting their stomachs.

He pulls out, landing on top of Sam with a thump. He looks at Sam, starting to speak--

I love you so damned much, Sammy.

--and stops himself. That thought...felt like it had come from someone else.

~*~

He looks back to the direction he had been thrown from and sees Sam there, standing tall and who nods at him. Looks like the job got done. He stands and dusts himself off.

"That was fucking amazing," gushed Sam, grinning at Dean.

Dean couldn't help but grin back. He didn't mind. It was a smile worthy celebration."Yeah, yeah it was."

And he also didn't mind that Sam leaned in and kissed him once. Or five times.

But whose counting right?

~*~

His eyes widen as the memories come flooding back, staggering back slightly.

And with the remembrance of memories, too came back the feelings that came with them. And with his memories intact, it only made his recent memories stand out all the more.

Flashes of skin against skin, deep moans and their names said almost worshipfully on each other's lips.

"Oh god," he whispers. "Oh fuck."

~*~

A/N: .GOD. That episode was...dear god it was so incredibly awesome, words can't even BEGIN to describe how great. From the very beginning...to get such a plot point we fangirls can use! And the preview for the NEXT ep! I mean the boys knowing about BOOKS written about them? We couldn't get anymore fanservice unless we suddenly saw Dean getting it on with Sam, or getting it on with Castiel. I mean, holy CRAP.

Man, I LOVE when inspiration comes like that...*sigh*

I don't know how long this will be or anything, but we'll see.

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!!

--PhoenixJustice