It wasn't something Sam did often, purposely make Dean jealous

It wasn't something Sam did often, purposely make Dean jealous. He really didn't ever have to. Dean was nothing if not steadfast and attentive in his own way. He was the whole world to Sam, the only part of it that mattered anyway. Dean never spoke the words, didn't have to, his body spoke it all to Sam. There was one thing Sam couldn't deny however.

Dean jealousand possessive was hot.

Damn hot.

There were times Sam just wanted hot, hard,animal lust and the right now deep down desire hurt me sex.

This was one of those times.

It didn't hurt Dean had been spending more time than necessary the past few weeks finding himself some female companionship. The last few times he'd looped one strong arm around some random chick's waist Sam couldn't fathom how he'd not seen the hurt look crossing Sam's face.

When Sam called him on it the other night, Dean had looked so confoundedly confused; he really didn't see the problem. Didn't Sam know, he'd asked, he was everything to Dean?

Time for Sam to make his point crystal clear.

Sam was jealous, plain and simple. He wanted Dean that way too. He wanted Dean to forget everyone, male or female, except Sam. Sam wanted his brother to prove his words, mark him up, show Sam he truly was Sam's alone, Sam was Dean's alone.

Was it that much to ask?

This brought him back to Dean jealous and possessive was hot, sizzling hot.

So, while Dean played pool, Sam staked out his mark. He hoped Dean did well with his pool game, he'd need the extra cash to appease Sam later, dinner was in order too.

Eyes skimming the bar, making sure to keep his gaze casual, not draw Dean's attention just yet, Sam spotted him, the guy, near the bar. He was big, muscled, with that rough look about him that read dominant. He'd probably want to tie Sam up, fuck him silly and teach him a thing or two. He was everything Dean would find threatening, challenging.

He was perfect.

Sam would just have to be sure Dean didn't kill the poor guy.

The guy had checked them both out when they'd gotten there. He'd skimmed Dean, probably pegged him immediately as not his type, and far too dominant, but appreciated the curve of Dean'sass anyway. Sam had gotten a nod when Dean's back was turned.Returned it with his sweetest smile, twice when he saw the guy's eyes wander over his ass, then biceps.

Running one thumb under and around the silver chain snugged close to the base of his throat, Sam let the tip of his tongue slide across his bottom lip, offered the guy a nod. Letting his thumb stopwhere his throat dipped in for a second before moving his hand away, reaching for his beer.

Slipping from his stool at the bar, eyes sliding for a few beats to Dean, the guy moved casually toward Sam. The glint in his eyes told Sam he knew Sam was forbidden territory, claimed by another, branded with a silver choker chain. Thrill of the chase and all Sam supposed.

He'd had the chain long before he and Dean became a they. Dean often preferred hustling in gay bars, even if he wasn't interested in the men. He was sly enough to use his good looks to distract his opponents. When Sam started insisting he go along with Dean, his brother insisted Sam wear the choker. Sam was left alone to watch TV, work on his laptop or socialize. Hesupposed it gave Dean some sense of security, a way of protecting Sam.

Sam thought it looked good on him.

Then came the time the choker became more than a prop. Sam never missed the way Dean's eyes lit up, glinted with love and lust and sheer possessiveness as his gaze skimmed the choker's path around Sam's neck.

Sam almost never took it off now.

Thoughts of Dean's tongue,his fingers, slipping between the chain and Sam's skin sent a course of electricity through Sam to settle in his balls, making him harden. Thoughts of Dean's mouth marking Sam's skin made his mouth dry, his cock twitched and harden even more, his heart jack rabbit against his ribs.

"Need another beer?"

Head jerking up, Sam nodded spasmodically, nearly forgetting he'd enticed this man into moving to the table Sam occupied. "Sure." Sam tilted his head to one side, smiled.

Nodding to the bartender, the guy had two more beers in hand in no time. Offering one to Sam, he held on while Sam's fingers curled around the bottle, pressed his fingers against Sam's.

Lifting his chin enough to expose the length of his throat, Sam drawled, "Thanks." He caught a glimpse of Dean pausing as he moved around the pool table, landing a stare on Sam, more importantly on the guy with Sam.

Swinging a chair close to Sam, sitting so one arm leaned against the table the guy asked, "Gotta name?"

He took a swig of his beer. "Sam."

"And his?" The guy's head dipped back toward the pool tables.

Sam had to work to keep the softness from his voice, the want from his eyes while he said, "Dean."

"You can call me Anthony." He twisted enough to get a look at Dean for a few seconds. "He the jealous type?"

"Doesn't appear so." Sam shrugged and picked at the label of his beer bottle, pleased by the smoking glare Dean aimed at Anthony's back.

Anthony reached out, fingers skimming over the silver choker. "He give you this?"


"Guess he needs some help keeping you in line." Anthony's thumb rubbed lightly along the line of Sam's neck.

Sam offered a one shoulder shrug. "Maybe." He wished Dean would hurry the hell up, because Anthony was turning out to be a real idiot. When Anthony's hand skimmed over his chest to land on his inner thigh, Sam leaned in toward the man. "Have something in mind?"

"You need some firm handling, not be left here alone." Anthony's fingers dug into the flesh of Sam's inner thigh, making Sam suck in his breath and shift in his chair.

A hand clamping on his shoulder, fingers pushing between Sam's choker and his skin pressed the cool metal into several points along Sam's neck. He was pulled back against the chair as Dean leaned over his shoulder, body warm, muscles tense and quivering.

"Hi there." Dean's right hand extended over Sam's shoulder, out to Anthony. Sam saw the sarcastic smirk anddangerous sparkle in Dean's eyes.

Anthony's hand slid from Sam's leg, he reached up to shake Dean's hand. "And you are?"

"The only firm hands he needs." Dean's voice dripped with challenge, aggression, threat. His fingers pressed against Sam's throat, warm and possessive.

Sam thought he might just come in his jeans right there.

"Isn't that right Sammy?"

Breath stuttering in and out, Sam turned his head to look at Dean, smiled and said, "Well you were a bit busy." Breathing in Dean's scent deeply, warm, earthy, musky sweat mixed with aftershave.

"Not that busy." The growl that was Dean's voice was unmistakable. Sam had struck all sorts of cords, was in for some serious firm handling.

Dean jealous. Hot. Dean jealous andpossessive. Sizzling hot.

Dean's fingers dug into the flesh at the crook of Sam's neck. The hand he'd offered Anthony settled none too gently in the middle of Sam's chest, just below his collar bones. Sam was pressedfurther back against the chair and the hard packed muscleof Dean's body, making him shiver. His hands clamped around his beer bottle.

"This boy's mine. Findyour own." Dean snapped, his voice low, dangerous. It was the sexiest thing Sam ever heard, making him squirm and shift again. Leaning down, lips close enough to Sam's ear he felt Dean's breath, the feel of his lips against Sam's skin tantalizingly close, but stopping just short of touching him, whispered harsh and rough, commanding. "Sit still."

Hot.Scorching. Firm. Sizzling handling.

Sam's brain mostly shut down. His entire body trembled.

"If you're sure." Anthony took his eyes from Dean's long enough to look at Sam.

Sam gulped a bit, nodded.

"He's sure."

Oh hell yeah Sam was sure.

A tight nod and Anthony was gone, off to find another playmate.

Leaning over farther, hand sliding from Sam's chest down his stomach to rest over the bulge in his jeans, Dean pressed down ever so lightly. His tongue swiped a path behind Sam's ear. Again warm, moist breath stroked Sam's cheek when Dean spoke. "I think you and I need to get a few things straight."

"Like who I can, and cannot talk to?"

The fingers along his shoulder dug in farther. Dean's tongue swiped along his ear, down his cheek, Dean sucked gently on the line of Sam's jaw for a few breaths before he used his teeth, nipping with just enough force Sam was sure it'd leave a mark.

"You know, smartass," the hand against his cock pressed down more. "Maybe I should just strip you down, right here, bend you over this table and show everyone here who you can and cannot talk to. Show them who you belong to. You'll just let me do whatever I want."

Sam swallowed convulsively.

Hot. Sizzling. Handling. This was what Sam wanted, Dean possessive, jealous, taking control. It was all about control and trust. He trusted Dean, so was more than happy to let him have control.

Breath coming in quick pants Sam closed his eyes, leaned his head back a bit when Dean's tongue swiped another path over his neck, this time sliding under the choker, sucking on it, then Sam's skin.

"'Cause we both know what this collar is for." Dean's voice was low, nothing more than a rumble from his chest.

Sam thought his dick just might explode. "You going to do something, or talk about it all night?" He stammered the words out, voice barely above a whisper.

The hands were suddenly gone, Sam couldn't stop the explosive exhale that came with a low moan. He started when Dean's hands slid under his arms, pulling him from the chair. His brother's voice was low, firm, not angry but definitely a 'don't give me lip' tone. "Now." Was all Dean said, all he had to say before he turned on his heels, walked away without seeing if Sam followed, trusting that Sam did.

Shoving his hands deep in his pockets Sam stayed a half step behind Dean, not even caring where they were going. He crowded close to his brother as they wound their way through the bar, knowing Dean felt his every move. The flush along Dean's neck that disappeared under his shirt told Sam he was just as turned on as Sam was.

Reaching the back of the building, Dean reached back, hand pressing to the back of Sam's neck. His other hand pushed open a door. Sam was pulled through, Dean kicked the door shut behind him. Sam had no idea if it was locked or not.

One hand pushing along the back of Sam's head until fingers threaded through his hair, fisting and pulling his head back. Dean's other arm snaked around Sam's back, pulling him in tight and close. Sam's hands fisted the jacket covering Dean's back, his breath coming in short, helpless pants.

Dean's tongue swiped the length of Sam's throat again, teeth raking Sam's jaw, nipping and biting so many places until Sam literally writhed against his brother, electric jolts coursing out from everywhere at once, from every bit of skin Dean's tongue, teeth, lips touched. Breath jerking in, there wasn't enough room in Dean's grip to expand his chest, fill his lungs before the sensations rolling through forced his breath out again.

Lips pressing to Sam's, Dean nipped Sam's mouth open, tongue slithering in, taking what was his. Dean's tongue pressed to the roof of Sam's mouth for a second, moved to slip and slide over his tongue, pushing to every part of Sam's mouth. Senses flooding with the scent of Dean, his leather jacket, the warm musk of his arousal, Sam was capable of doing nothing more than whimpering and moaning into Dean's mouth. Sam's own tongue caressed along Dean's, tasted what was uniquely Dean, offered to his brother, taken freely.

Stepping forward, Dean roughly shoved one leg between Sam's, apply firm pressure up, forcing Sam's hips to roll against Dean's. The steady pressure without movement was maddening. It was Dean's brand of dominance, bondage without the ropes. In a few touches, fewer words, Sam was owned completely, wanting nothing but what Dean gave.

Dean pulled back, breaking their kiss, leaving Sam panting and lightheaded, forehead pressed to the side of Dean's neck, his entire body quivering with desire, sheer need. Sam's jacket was pulled off, dropped somewhere behind Dean. His shirt and tee were pulled over his head. Dean pushed the shirts down to his forearms, but not over his wrists, loosely binding his arms in front of him.

Sam's jeans were left untouched, his erection pushing against the zipper. He wiggled side to side, seeking friction.

One hand going to the back of his neck again, Dean leaned forward, blowing warm, moist breath against his skin whispering into Sam's ear. "Be still." Dean's tongue swiped along his neck and jaw leaving a trail of wet tingles.

Sam tried, but his hips refused to listen and insisted upon rolling toward his brother. He was quite sure he'd simply explode from want and need before Dean let him come.

Hands skimming along Sam's sides brought out more shudders. Stopping just above his hips, Dean's fingers dug in, he forcefully turned Sam, pulled him back against Dean's chest. Dean's fingers moved up Sam's forearms, then biceps, pulling his arms up and over Dean's head, the shirts hooking around the back of Dean's neck. He moved the very tips of his fingers up and down Sam's neck, then over his chest, circling first one nipple then the other.

Sam could do nothing but clench and unclench his fists, pant desperate breaths and grind his ass back against Dean's cock, feeling how hard Dean was inside his own jeans. Letting his head fall back against Dean's shoulder, Sam shuddered when both Dean's hands moved to his jeans, unbuttoned, then painfully slowly unzipped and shoved Sam's jeans and boxers off letting them drop to his ankles, hobbling him.

"What's the matter, you can flirt with anyone and I can't?" Sam gasped the words out.

Dean snorted, and Sam could practically feel the arched eyebrow. Reaching across Sam's chest, Dean pulled something from his mouth. He held the length of now wetted down leather between both hands and in front of Sam's eyes before dragging it over his chest, across his quivering belly to wrap it firmly around his leaking cock and balls.

Hot. Possessive. Handling. Firm.

Dean's fingers skimmed his neck, caressed along the chocker, soft kisses followed his fingers, then one sharp bite that make Sam thrust into the air, rutting against nothing. Dean's hand fashioned cock ring kept him hard and leaking and completely at his brother's mercy.

"That's what this is about?" Dean grabbed a handful of Sam's hair and pulled back far enough to turn Sam's shoulders and head, forcing Sam to mostly face him. Neck and back muscles screamed from the pressure on them, sent trills of pleasure/pain straight to Sam's groin. Dean licked at his mouth. "Like I said, we both know what this collar is for. You're jealous."

"So are—" Sam's words were cut off when Dean's tongue pressed into his mouth, fucked into Sam with his tongue.

Pulling back, Dean ducked his head so Sam's arms slipped away, and dropped to his sides. Sam was turned around to face Dean, and pushed to his knees in one movement, Dean's hand in his hair, controlling him completely. It was embarrassing the way Sam moaned when Dean used one hand to unhook his belt, remove his own jeans. Sam grasped Dean's thighs, fingers digging when Dean stepped forward far enough to rub the head of his cock over Sam's lips, then using his hand in his hair, Dean angled Sam the way he wanted while Sam's lips opened, taking Dean into his mouth.

"We both know who belongs to who." Dean pushed in deep. Sam had no choice but to take him. He pulled out, pulled Sam's head away at the same time until just the tip of his cock brushed Sam's lips. Sam darted his tongue out, slipping it along the head of Dean's cock in just that way Dean liked.

The harsh, predatory moan Sam was rewarded with made his own hips jerk, his cock jump. Inching forward on his knees, gripping Dean's thighs harder and whispering a soft please, Sam let his teeth scrape lightly over the entire length of Dean's cock. Dean's fingers tightened in his hair as Dean thrust into Sam's mouth. Sam's entire body shuddered when Dean moaned low, rumbling sounds.

Sam knew the way to suck, swirl his tongue over and under, barely brush his teeth across Dean's cock to send his brother tumbling over the edge. Dean's hips sped up, he widened his stance, then pulled one hand free of Sam's hair, lurching forward and bracing himself against the wall. The fingers in Sam's hair tightened, Sam's head was turned the way Dean wanted, the tiny bit of control Dean had let him have for a few minutes reclaimed. Dean's moans turned to grunts then gasps.

Dean shot hot and hard into his mouth, down his throat, moaning, "Sammy." Sam milked him, holding him up with hands against thighs, because even without words, Sam understood he'd been ordered to do that. The aroma of Dean filled him, a heady, powerful scent that completely dominated Sam on its own.

Two or three shots of Dean's come was all he was allowed, head pulled back and away, Dean met his eyes, pulled his hand from the wall and took his cock in his own hand, working himself through the rest of his orgasm. He moved in so Sam's jaw was splattered with the thick, warm ropes. It drizzled the length of his neck and trickled between his pecs, along his chest, a small path to his groin.

It was a few minutes, their eyes locked, before Dean's hands in his hair softened and Dean's breathing slowed. He straightened, letting go of Sam completely, pulled his jeans back up and tucked himself in. He leaned down, touching Sam's collarbone with one finger, swiping it through the small rivers of his own come on Sam's chest, brushed it over and around first one nipple then the other until they stood firm and hard and Sam's breath stuttered, he gasped out pleaseneedpleasetakeplease.

Dean swiped his thumb over the head of Sam's cock, on constant dribble now, running the liquid over and around. Dean smiled, slipped his hands under Sam's shoulders and pulled him to his feet, leaning in to whisper roughly in Sam's ear, "Don't wipe it off."

Sam could only jerk out a shaky nod.

He was turned and shoved against a sink, forced to catch himself with his hands. Dean's hand on the back of his neck pressed him down, hard enough to trap Sam. He kicked Sam's legs as far apart as possible in the confines of his jeans.

Dean draped over Sam's back, licked his neck and shoulders. The sink groaned and Sam had the fleeting thought of it giving way under their weight. Dean's voice, low, commanding, possessive chased any thoughts from Sam's head.

"You want it bad, don't you? Want me to pin you here and fuck you while you have no choice but to take it. Don't you?"

Dean's breath against him made Sam shiver, as did Dean's words.

"Please." Sam arched back into Dean as much as he could, offering himself to his brother in anyway Dean wanted.

Dean's hands moved around to Sam's chest, finding his nipples, this time twisting and pinching. "I'm not done yet."

Sam's cock jerked, his balls tightened. He was barely able to stifle the sob when Dean straightened, moved away from him. Sam watched in the mirror as Dean dressed, his heart pounding at the sight of the sleeves of Dean's tee pulled tight over his arms. He pulled a tube from his jacket, still hung on a chair behind them. Pouring a generous amount of lube onto one hand, Dean's eyes locked with Sam's in the mirror and he rubbed it between his palms.

Kneeling behind him, Dean ran both hands up the back of Sam's thighs and over the cheeks of his ass, pulling them far enough apart both his thumbs brushed Sam's entrance. Dean's tongue and mouth followed his hands. He sucked for the briefest instant against Sam's twitching entrance. Then moved his tongue down the inside of Sam's thighs, at first nipping lightly at the tender skin. Sam started and dragged in air when Dean bit down. He nibbled and bit a trail along Sam's inner thigh, down to his knee, then repeated the same thing on the other leg. He used his tongue, pressed wide and flat, along the spot behind Sam's balls moving slowly to his entrance. A few quick flicks of his tongue had Sam writhing and whimpering.

Dean pressed his tongue through Sam's crack, up and along his spine, teeth raking the base of Sam's neck as he once again draped himself over Sam's back. Then again, Sam let a sob out when Dean's warm body was gone. He heard the soft chuckle, then the feel of Dean's hand against the back of his head. His other hand moved to Sam's ass, he pushed one finger in, circled the ring of muscle in slow, deliberate strokes.

"How about," Dean shifted so he could speak close to Sam's ear, knowing full well, Sam was sure, what Dean's voice did to him. "I take you out there, bend you over the bar and let your buddy lick you open for me? Let them all watch while I pound into you?" A second finger went into Sam, pushed up further, stroking his prostrate.

Sam could only mewl and groan, push back against Dean's fingers, impaling himself on them.

Dean pulled his fingers out and stepped away. "Show them you're my boy." He wiped his hands on a towel hanging next to the sink.

One hand landed solidly on Sam's shoulder and he was pulled straight and turned to face Dean again. Dean stepped to him, slipping one arm around Sam's waist, he rested his other hand on Sam's cock and pressed lightly.

Nuzzle his brother's neck, Sam kissed and licked Dean's shoulder, repeating his soft, desperate pleas, "Now, take…let me…need…I need…"

He felt the vibration of Dean's chest when a soft chuckle rumbled out. "Aw, but Sammy, I'm not ready yet." Dean moved both hands to Sam's face, held him still and kissed him. This time it was slow and deep. When he broke away he took Sam's shirts from his arms, handing just Sam's tee back to him. Bending, Dean pulled Sam's jeans up and over his hips, rubbing his cock as he pressed the material over and zipped it so slowly Sam felt every one of the teeth lock together over his swollen flesh. "I know exactly what you need."

Turning away, Dean gathered their jackets, and Sam's other shirts. "You wear just that."

Sam nodded, and slipped the tee over his head, pulled it down. It was two sizes too small, and Dean loved it when he wore it. It covered him, exposed his every muscle and line, left none of him to anyone's imagination.

Dean stepped back, and looked Sam up and down. He reached out and ruffled up Sam's hair a bit. Hands sliding down, he teased Sam's nipples hard enough to peak through the cotton shirt. Nodding, he sighed, "That'll do." He spun on his heels and strode out the door.

Sam hurried after him, keeping close, knowing everyone was looking at him. His cock stood out, a bulging line against his jeans, he might as well have been naked in the tight, white tee. Dean's marks and scent obvious to anyone who looked, and they were looking. Eyes followed Sam as he followed Dean. His brother got a few nods and smiles from some of the other men. The sheer excitement of it had Sam's heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst from his chest.

Dean stopped at the bar, ordered two beers, handing one to Sam he dipped his head at a stool. Sam leaned against it more than sat on it, letting his legs fall open.

Smirking, Dean took a long pull from his beer, "Good boy."

One guy Sam recognized as one of Dean's pool opponents sidled up, clapped Dean's shoulder. "So, I guess you're not going to give me a chance to get my money back."

"Not tonight." Dean smiled, eyes skimming up and down Sam's body.

Sam shivered, twice when the man moved behind him. He felt movement, saw Dean nod, "Go right ahead."

Sam nearly fell off the stool when a hand landed on his back, moved slowly down his back, feeling every muscle.


"Thanks." Dean took another drink of beer. "The boy really knows what to do with a cock in his mouth."


Sam's eyes flicked to Dean's. The thought of being handed over to some random stranger to suck his cock, or have his sucked, would've had Sam spurting uncontrollably right then and there had Dean not so effectively bound his cock. His hips twitched, his breath hitched.

Dean grinned wolfishly, stepped between Sam's legs and planted a hand firmly over his cock, squeezing. "Not tonight. This boy needs to learn some manners first. But, hey you never know, we might be back in a day or two."

"I look forward to it." The man's hand skimmed Sam's neck, fingers rubbed through his hair before he moved off into the crowd.

Dean threw a few bills on the bar, took Sam's beer from him, set it down, turned away and headed out the door. Sam, eyes down, followed without making a sound. Once outside the cool wind blew against his skin, raising gooseflesh.

"Would you?" Sam asked softly.

Raking his eyes over Sam, Dean smiled, but didn't answer. Taking Sam's arm Dean guided him around the corner of the building, pressed him to the hard wall. Once again Sam's mouth was claimed by Dean's tongue fucking in, hard, fast, possessive. Dean's body pressed to his, Sam felt his brother's erection. He let one hand slide down Dean, rubbed his cock through his jeans. He pulled from Dean's kiss and mouthed against his neck, "I need it…please…so bad."

Dean smirked, pushed Sam back against the wall and headed toward their car, leaving Sam panting and humping air. When he managed to stagger to the Impala, Dean stood by the driver's door, arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to one side. Sam's shirt was grabbed in Dean's fists, he was spun and slammed back against the car, Dean pressed against him.

Dean bit his lower lip, forcing Sam to let him in. His knee was pushed between Sam's legs and up against Sam's cock, pressing until Sam rocked against him. Sam broke away, nipped ever so softly at Dean's jaw, not enough to mark, but enough to feel. He sucked lightly and dragged his tongue down Dean's neck, pushed his shirt to the side and nuzzled the muscle of Dean's chest. Sliding down to his knees, he gripped Dean's belt, tugging on it. He nipped and mouthed at Dean's cock through his jeans.

"Right here…let me come…fuck me…hard…yours…please."

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you hard alright." Dean twisted, unlocked the car door and opened it, then stepped away. Again Sam was left panting, hips twitching and rutting into nothing. "But I want a bed to do that in." He fisted some of Sam's hair and jerked up, "Get in."

Sam slid in and over just far enough for Dean to get behind the wheel. Slipping down until his head rested over the seat back, Sam gripped the seat with both hands as Dean started the car, pulled onto the road. When Dean reached over with one hand and tugged on Sam's belt, Sam let his legs drop apart, spread them wide.

Dean's hand was rough and demanding, he growled out, "Want this off." He yanked at Sam's belt until it opened. Sam fumbled with his jeans, but Dean shoved his hands away, pulling the button open and jerking the zipper down.

His hand went in Sam's jeans, fingers roughly grasping his balls and squeezing. Sam clenched his teeth, arched over the back of the seat and panted out Dean's name. Dean's hand encircled his trussed up cock, rubbing up and down, pulling more loud moans from Sam, making his back arch over the seat, his chest heave. Dean's thumb swiped over his oozing slit, spreading Sam's own precome over, up and down his cock. Sam could do nothing but babble noises and half words, begging to be fucked, to be permitted to come, to take Dean's cock in his mouth, to do whatever Dean wished however he wished.

Sam was barely aware of the car stopping, Dean's hand moving away, grabbing his arm. Sam was hauled from the car, jeans open, leaking cock hanging out for anyone to see he belonged to Dean, was completely under his control. He felt the motel room door at his back for a brief instant, then it was gone and Sam stumbled into their room. Dean tossed their stuff to one side.

Moving toward Sam, Dean growled out, "Strip. Get your ass on the bed. Now."

Sam was out of his clothes, flat on his back, legs spread and open, offering every bit of himself to his brother in less than a minute.

Dean took slightly longer.

He advanced slowly, taking off one piece of clothing then another with calculated, controlled movements. Sam never took his eyes from his brother's body. A thin sheen of sweat covered him, making every muscle, ever groove between stand out. Finally Dean was naked, cock hard, and crawling on top of Sam.

Grabbing the lube they always kept under the pillow, Dean set it beside Sam's leg. Grabbing Sam by the hips, fingers digging in so deep Sam knew he'd have more bruises, Sam was flipped over. Dean smacked the backs of his legs a few times, commanding, "Up."

Sam complied, quickly pulling his knees under him, raising his ass off the bed. He gripped the head board with both hands as Dean's first finger plunged in, claiming, owning. Dean worked his finger around, purposely hitting Sam's prostrate, forcing moans, whimpers, cries from Sam's lips. A second finger, then a third worked in, spreading him, opening him. Every move of Dean's fingers was matched with his mouth, kissing, nipping, licking, biting Sam's shoulders and back.

Sam's ass moved of its own accord, pressing back wantonly against Dean's fingers, shifting side to side, seeking the feel of Dean's fingertips grazing his prostrate. Sam was stretched and opened, ready.

"Other way." He hissed out, panting and gasping more pleasehardpleasetakemehavemepleaseplease.

Dean grunted, pulled his fingers out and rolled Sam to his back. Sam's writs were grasped, his hands shoved over his head, Dean whispered in his ear, "Stay." Without preamble he then pressed the head of his cock against Sam's twitching entrance, rested there for a few beats before thrusting in. He didn't give Sam time to register that before he pulled mostly out and shoved back in, grunting with each thrust of hips. Sam's fingers dug into the pillow behind his head. His back bowed as he arched again and again into his brother. Dean sped up, hands on either side of Sam's head, bracing on arms bulging from the strain. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's pushed against Dean's thighs with his heels, pulling him in closer.

When Dean's rhythm faltered, breath stuttering, he shoved his hand between them and wrenched the bindings from Sam's cock. With a deep scream Sam came, huge spurts of come covering his chest, smearing between he and Dean, making him clench around Dean's cock deep in his ass. Warmth filled him, Dean's cock pulsed inside him, filling him, Sam was marked inside as well as out now.

Dean collapsed on him, his entire body trembling. They held tight, rolled hips together, matching each other shudder for shudder, riding out their orgasms and pulling from each other every precious drop of seman, every delicious twitch of muscle.

Sliding out, Dean scooted up, so their faces were level, he nosed aside Sam's bangs and kissed his forehead tenderly.

"Oh god, Dean, thank you."

Dean laughed softly, slid an arm under Sam's shoulders and pulled him close. Dean's fingers caressed the silver choker and the Sam's skin under it. He pressed warm lips to Sam's, hummed softly. "I think you owe that man at the bar an apology."

Sam ducked his head, felt the blush creep over his cheeks as he smiled a bit. "We can go back?" He asked shyly.

Rubbing his hand over Sam's shoulder and arm, "Maybe. I'll think about it." Then he stabbed Sam's side with this thumb, laughing as Sam twisted away, indignant squawk getting free. "But first, you need a shower. I'm not sleeping with you until you do."

"But, I'm warm." Sam protested.

"Out." Dean shoved him off the bed. Then leaned over the side, fingers winding through Sam's choker, pulling him in for a kiss. "Like I said, we both know what this is for." Scrambling off the bed, Dean hoisted Sam to his feet, turned him and shoved him at the bathroom, smacking his ass as they went. "I'm not giving my boy to just anyone."

Dean reached around him, started the shower water, then hand to the back of Sam's neck he applied pressure until Sam stepped inside.

"Don't I have to learn to behave first?" Sam teased, as Dean walked him back, pressed him to the shower wall.

Snorting a laugh, "Like that'll ever happen."

"Guess you'll just have to keep at it."

Dean maneuvered him around so the water cascaded over him, soaking his hair. "Hmm…slut." He poured shampoo over Sam, then rubbed with his fingertips until Sam's hair was lathered. Pressing his mouth to Sam's he guided him back under the water, rinsing his hair.

Sam melted against his brother, turned his head and rested his cheek on Dean's shoulder as Dean rubbed soap over him, cleaning him. He'd been bound for so long in Dean's cock and ball harness he was nearly rock hard already. Dean lathered every part of Sam he could reach, finally working his way to Sam's groin. Using the soap he slipped and slid his hand over Sam's cock. Sam moved his legs apart, begging with his body for Dean's fingers, his touch.

"Mine." Dean rumbled.

"Works both ways." He said against the muscle of Dean's shoulder.

"Is that what you want?"

If Dean hadn't had a handful of Sam's once again aching cock, Sam would have punched him. Hadn't he been clear? Instead he pressed a kiss to the skin beneath his cheek, "Yes."

"I can live with that."

Dean forced him to stand straight, then moved Sam back so he was pressed against the shower wall. He slid down Sam's body, hands tracing a trail, until he wrapped his mouth around Sam's cock, making him groan and buck into Dean's mouth. It amazed Sam, how even without aids, Dean took him to the brink and pulled him back three times, staving off Sam's orgasm, denying Sam until Dean was damn good and ready.

Shifting to lean against Dean, craving how his brother's arms, warm and strong circled him and pulled him close.

The water started running cooler and Sam was guided out of the shower, toweled dry.

Dean jealous and possessive, sizzling. Dean tender and nurturing, scorching.

Taking the clean bed, Dean pulled the comforter from the other bed over for them to use. Sam threaded his legs through Dean's, tucked his head under Dean's chin and nudged it close to his side. Dean was wrapped in the comforter, Sam was wrapped in Dean.

Sam drifted to sleep wondering if they'd really go back.