Know When To Fold 'Em 11

Author:feather_touch & scarlettraven9
Genre: Slash/Wincest
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam; Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers : For anything up to and including Season 5 episode 7 (specifics for that episode).

Summary: Sam plays a game Dean's life and both brothers discover truths and wants about themselves they both thought long gone.

Series: none
Disclaimer: Not ours, just borrowing from Kripke.

A/N: This story is dedicated as a late birthday present to my dear friend heatherofnight. She is the best! I was so excited that feather_touch liked my plot bunny and agreed to write with me. She is one of my favorite writers and it was such a treat to work with her. I look forward to doing another project with her. I would like to thank our wonderful beta jadesterling, BlueEyedDemonLiz and MidgeVS5. And a big thanks to thrutterryseyes for her wonderful story banner!

A/N:Thanks to scarlettraven9 for working on this with me and for the great idea! For those of you waiting on an update to Forever Bound, the next chapter is being beta'd right now, it'll be up soon.

This story is complete, we just aren't sure how many chapter it'll end up being divided into.

Warnings: Bottom!Sam, D/s, mild non-con, Wincest

"What did he do to you? I want to know everything, the truth." Dean glanced for a second at Sam before pulling his gaze back to the road.

Swallowing thickly, Sam drew in a deep breath. The fingers of his right hand gripped the car door handle for a few seconds while he tried to steady his nerves.

He wasn't afraid to tell Dean anything, even the worst thing he'd ever done he'd told Dean, but somehow this was different. Sam had no idea why, but it was. He didn't want Dean feeling responsible for what Patrick had done to him and he knew how likely that was.

"He, um…the stuff you heard on the phone or what I told you already."

"There's more." Dean didn't look away from the road, but he did rest one hand on Sam's arm. It wasn't a question and Dean's gesture set Sam at ease.

"There is more. When he sold my blood I'd have to prick my finger, no one ever really wanted a lot, just drops. But, there was always some ritual or herb to eat, or rub on my arm, or something. The day after I talked to you last he made me drink something, I think it was to numb my emotions somehow, I didn't care much about what happened to me for a while after that. You know everything about what happened with Bates. Then, the last time you called, afterwards he…" Sam's voice cracked and he stopped, shifting in his seat to face his window more and his brother less. He'd pushed the feelings and thoughts about Patrick forcing himself onto Sam away and now they came roaring back. Realization of how deeply that had affected him hit Sam square between the eyes.

Dean's fingers tightened on Sam's wrist. "Don't hide from me, please. Just tell me."

Turning back to his brother, Sam nodded. "He…um…he wanted a blowjob and I didn't want…"

"He forced you?"

"Yes."

Lips pinching into a tight, angry line and eyebrows pulling together Dean took a few deep breaths before pulling his hand away from Sam and hitting the steering wheel with it. "It was my fault. I'm sorry, Sammy, I pushed the guy into doing that."

"No, it wasn't. He's got some crush on me I think, kept telling me he'd do what you couldn't. It was going to happen sooner or later, I'm just glad it wasn't more than a blowjob." Pausing to take his own deep breaths Sam had to tell Dean something else too, he'd never said it and regretted not doing so before. "You know, other than Jess there was only you that meant anything…who knew what I wanted…you were the only one I wanted it from."

Dean looked at him for a long few seconds before replacing his hand on Sam's arm, giving him a squeeze.

Sam was quiet for the rest of the ride. Dean turned the radio on, and often drove one handed while he massaged Sam's thigh or pressed the heel of his hand into Sam's groin. A few times he brushed his knuckles over Sam's face and skimmed fingers through Sam's hair. The gestures were comforting, caring and made Sam feel good, owned, safe.

Once the car stopped in a motel parking lot much like every other motel parking lot they'd been in over the years, Sam sat patiently, hands folded in his lap, not touching his very hard, very swollen cock. It was all he could not to squirm. Dean hadn't expressly said the words, but his wishes were clear, Sam would wait to be directed. That extended beyond being directed sexually.

Dean winked and turned away, pushing out of the car. Sam followed his progress while he walked to Sam's side of the car. The door was unlocked from the outside and opened. Sam was motioned out. Once standing to his full height, Sam trailed behind his brother to the back of the car. Dean popped the truck and handed Sam some bags to carry, then took some for himself.

Immediately Sam noticed a new bag, tan canvas with dark brown leather trimming it. He could tell it was packed full.

Dean held the bag up, dangling it off his crooked fingers. "This is what I bought. What's in here is for both of us, but I'm the only one who touches it, adds to it or takes things from it. Understood?"

"Yes." Sam nodded once.

"You may request things be taken out or purchased to put in and you may handle it if I give you permission. If I can't because I'm unconscious or something like that, you may collect our belongings that go in here, pack them and put it in the trunk. Also understood?"

"Yes."

Smiling that smile that left Sam breathless, achingly hard and wanting, Dean shut the trunk and turned on his heels, striding away. Sam had to jog a few steps to catch up. Dean stopped in front of one of the doors, opened it and motioned Sam inside. Once the door was shut, locked and the lights turned on Dean set the bags he held on the floor. Sam put his on the bed, the rest he set on the small, round table that would double as a dining table.

"Go take a shower. Don't take forever. When you are finished do not dress. Come out and kneel on the floor, there." Dean pointed to the spot near the end of the bed.

Sam nodded and ducked his head, eyes down he went to the bathroom. He wondered if Dean noticed the smile Sam tried to hide when he saw there was one king-sized bed in the room, not two.

He took a quick shower before heading back into the main room. Dean took the clothing he'd taken off from him and hung them up. Sam settled himself on his knees where Dean had indicated earlier.

Dean's shirt was gone, but he still wore his jeans. Sam couldn't help how he stared and licked his lips. God, his brother was beyond magnificent, he was some kind of Greek god, tall, broad, well muscled and ripped. Breath speeding up, Sam fought to quiet his pounding heart. His reaction was pretty plain, he was hard as a rock and tiny drops of precum were forming and trickling along the path of veins in his dick.

His lips turning up to a small smile was the only reaction Dean showed. That and the way his jeans bulged at the crotch. Dean opened the bag and pulled out a length of rope. "Arms behind your back, elbows bent and hands holding them."

Sam immediately complied. He was quiet while Dean crisscrossed the rope over his chest, around his waist, secured his hands where they gripped his elbows and wound it up and around his neck. It wasn't the kind of rope they normally used to tie people up, this was the soft kind, made specifically for this sort of thing.

Tapping his toe against Sam's left knee, then the right, Dean instructed, "Move them wider apart."

Shifting his weight side to side, Sam again did as instructed. Dean didn't tell him to stop until his legs were painfully spread and his balls nearly touched the carpet.

Dean moved away, leaning against the table. "Now, we have some things to work out. Each of us may present what they want and either of us can agree or disagree. If we don't agree we'll discuss it until we do agree. I don't care how long it takes, but when we're done, we're done, no need to renegotiate. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah, about that. Don't call me sir. We called Dad sir, and Sammy, that's too fucked up even for us."

Sam glanced down at his naked body, turned his head side to side to take in his bound arms and snorted a laugh, looking up at Dean. "Too fucked up?"

Dean crossed both arms over his chest and glared. "You want this or not?"

"Yes, of course I do. I've prayed for it, begged for it. I just want to know what I'm to call you?"

"How about the same thing you've called me all your life?"

"Jerk?" Sam couldn't help it, the word escaped.

Dean's eyes twinkled and his lips curled into a smile. "Dean, smartass, you call me Dean." He eased farther onto the table, legs swinging back and forth a few times. "My turn. I provide for you, am responsible for your care. I'll make sure you have food to eat, clothes to wear and a warm, safe place to sleep. You in return will sleep in my bed. Understand also that since I provide those things, like you they are mine."

"Agreed."

Dean nodded and waved one hand at Sam. "Your turn."

"You'll always listen to me, hear my side."

"Agreed," Dean said almost before Sam finished speaking, his face softening.

"We both decide what to hunt and how. We're equal that way. However, if we can't come to decisions in twenty-four hours on what hunts to take then I decide." He drew in a deep breath. "You're a good hunter. I see no reason to change how we hunt. Once we're in a hunt the victims come first just like always."

"Agreed." Sam smiled and looked up for a few seconds before dropping his gaze to the floor in a more submissive position. "Thank you. I learned from my brother, he's the best there is." He took a deep breath, thinking on what he truly wanted from Dean. "You're responsible for our money and care, but I'm also an equal partner in obtaining that money. I want to help you more, you'll teach me and coach me on what I'm not as good at."

"Sam…" Dean sighed, obviously not liking that request.

"Please, Dean? I know how to play pool and poker, darts, I just need more practice and back up. I don't want you to carry that load alone. I'm your brother. I get to carry half the load. In everything."

Holding up two fingers, Dean grinned, "That's two things." He drew in a deep breath and turned to look out the window for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "All right, agreed. To both." He stood up and started to pace. "You say you want me to let you grow up, but you don't let yourself grow up. You tell me you want me to trust you, yet you won't let me. No more sneaking around, no more lies, from either of us. I will be honest with you and you will always be honest with me. I will know where you are at all times, same goes for me."

"That's a lot more than one. Agreed." Sam bit his lip before dipping his head side to side to loosen the tenseness creeping back into his neck and back from being held in one place for so long by the ropes. This was a lot more difficult than he thought it'd be. It was like bearing his soul, well in a way maybe that's what they were both doing. "Like you said, if we're going to do this we're doing it right. We're exclusive. You can flirt and look all you want, but no touching anyone else, ever. I'm a jealous lover with a big freaking knife." Sam said the last few words with a grin, but he could tell by the expression on Dean's face that his brother believed him and took him seriously.

"No question, Sammy, agreed. You're mine, which means your number one priority during sex is my satisfaction. Any you get, you earn and I decide when and if you orgasm. I decide when, where and if we have sex. You may voice any requests, but ultimately it is my choice."

That one gave Sam pause. Dean could get pretty wild and while most times Sam didn't care, he wasn't too sure he was up to sex in a mall or something along those lines. "I agree to the first part, but we need to discuss the second part, Dean." He kept his gaze locked to the carpet between his knees.

"Look at me, Sam."

Sam raised his chin until he could look directly at Dean.

"Go on," Dean prompted.

"You won't…I won't have to do anything in public that makes me uncomfortable. I'm not into humiliation, especially not in public. I may belong to you, but that doesn't mean I don't want respect. I didn't enjoy what you made me do in front of Patrick, but I did follow your commands."

"Fair enough." Dean smiled, it was soft and warm and loving. "But, you should know I'd never do that. Part of this is I'm responsible for your care and protection. If anything we do makes you feel threatened I do expect you to speak up. Everything is behind closed doors unless we agree ahead of time. Don't ever be afraid to tell me what pleases you and what doesn't. You can expect the same from me."

Sam nodded and returned Dean's smile. "Agreed." It wasn't like he could disagree with his cock twitching and oozing pearly beads of liquid.

"We'll tell Bobby."

Dean literally choked on that one. "I—Sammy, this is—oh shit I don't know."

"We're there a lot Dean, he's noticed shit between us before. He deserves our honesty. All he needs to know is we're a we. I don't want to have to watch every move I make or every word I say."

"It's important to you?"

"Yes, Dean."

Dean turned away, walking to the bathroom, then back to stand in front of Sam. "I'll agree as long as there're no details and you keep your hands off me when we're there."

Sam snorted and swallowed a laugh. "As if you'd be able to keep your hands off of me."

"One last thing for me. If this ends, then we make a clean break. We go our separate ways and stay apart. If it's over, it's over."

"No. That'll never happen. I won't live without you again. So, no, I'll never agree to that."

"Me neither, I was just making sure we're on the same page about that." Dean reached out and ran his finger tips over Sam's hair. "Any other rules?"

Sam nuzzled his cheek into Dean's hand and shook his head. "No, Dean."

"Then we have another matter. We need to discuss how we should have handled things that got us into trouble."

Shifting on his knees, Sam tried to ignore the intense throbbing between his legs, huffing out a long breath. "I want that put behind us. I want to be free of it."

"And what do we do about that, how do we get that, Sam?"

"I've said I was sorry, and so have you. I want you to have proof. We both know what you have to do. Please, Dean? Whatever punishment you need to give me so you have that, I want it. I need it. Please. We both need to be done with all that."

Dean took hold of Sam's arm, guided him to his feet and led him to the arm chair. Dean spun it around and bent Sam face first over the back, forcing him to arch up onto his toes.

"You really want this?" Dean kept one hand pressed to Sam's back just below where his arms were tied together.

Nodding, Sam tried not to flinch when Dean's hand pulled away. "Yes." Drawing in a deep breath he went on. "Belt."

"Sam."

"Your belt." Sam stared at the chair seat stubbornly. "Hands are intimate and erotic, belts are not." He took another deep breath, this one shaking and waited.

"I—fine."

Sam knew Dean didn't like it, but he heard Dean's belt slide free anyway. He braced himself for what was to come. The sound of leather cutting the air preceded the first sting across his ass by mere seconds. Lurching up farther on his toes, holy crap, that hurt, Sam bit back the wet sound wanting out of his mouth. He knew Dean hadn't even hit him with anything near the force he was capable of.

"How could you have handled this thing with Patrick?" Dean hit him twice more making Sam try to push into the chair more.

"I should have been honest with you when I called the first time." Sam got the words out in broken gulps, shock waves from the belt slaps jolting through him. "W-we could h-have made a p-p-plan."

Slap. Sam's gut twisted and he fought to stay still even though he wanted to get away.

"What should you have done about Ruby?"

Slap. Slap.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the tears, the slaps were coming faster and harder. Dean meant business now, his hurt and anger and frustration coming out in every strike of his belt.

Sam stammered, "Told you everything from the start so we could figure it out together." He swallowed the sobs, ignored his pain and blurted out, "But you should have listened to me all those times I tried to tell you about my power. I tried. I really tried."

"I know." Dean's voice sounded deflated and sad. Sam heard him fling the belt across the room. It smacked harmlessly against the wall and dropped to the floor. "And I'm sorry."

Gently Dean turned him around, Sam immediately pressed his face to Dean's shoulder, losing his battle to control his sobs and letting them finally break free. Dean wrapped one arm around Sam's shoulders, the other hand found its way to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair. Sam barely registered that Dean was untying him until his arms dropped to his sides.

"Are we done with this shit now?" Dean said softly, lips brushing Sam's hair.

Moving stiffly, Sam could only nod against Dean's shoulder and reach up with both hands, slip his arms under his brother's and grip his shoulders. He let Dean guide him across the room, Sam paid no attention to where he was being taken until the warmth of Dean's body and the strength of his arms left and he was laid across the bed on his stomach. He heard Dean retreat across to the other side of the room.

Bending one arm under him, Sam snuffled into his elbow and listened to water running. A few seconds after the water cut off something cool was drizzled over his ass and thighs then between his cheeks. Sam immediately recognized the silky feeling and scent as being a more expensive type of lube they'd used once, both loved, but never bought it because it cost so much. Now Dean was slathering it across Sam's rear like it was cheaper than water.

A cool washcloth was pressed to the exposed side of his face. "Here, wipe off with this."

Swiping the cloth across his face a few times, Sam let it drop to the bed so he could revel in the feel of Dean's hands moving over his thighs, spreading the cool, soothing gel over his aching skin. Dean's fingertips massaged into his gluts, then along his back to his shoulders, skimmed through Sam's hair and rubbed along his scalp.

Sam shifted his hips side to side, trying for some friction on his hardening cock.

"Uhumhum," Dean leaned down and rumbled close to his ear, "none of that unless I say so." Leaning to the side he gave Sam's ass a gentle crack. "Be still."

When Dean's body pulled away Sam didn't even try to stop the soft whine from leaving his mouth. Chucking his jeans and underwear to the floor Dean inched back onto the bed, nudging Sam's legs further apart and kneeling between his thighs.

Sliding one thumb up Sam's crack, Dean circled around his entrance, applying more and more pressure with each swipe. He added his other thumb, moving them up and down, pressing against his entrance, but not going farther.

Moaning, Sam pushed his hips up, trying for more contact with Dean's thumbs. Again, Dean pulled his hands away, pressing one palm flat to the small of Sam's back, whispering, "Still," In his ear.

Dean liked it when he was still, but Sam liked it better when he was a challenge to Dean, it was simply too much fun. A few more cracks to his already oversensitive ass from Dean's hand had him grinding his hips against the sheets, relishing in the feeling of material against his shaft.

Sam let out a deep groan when Dean slipped two fingers inside him, twisting and turning them so his knuckles brushed Sam's most sensitive spot. Dean's other hand held him flat, kept his hips from doing much in the way of finding friction while Dean's fingers stretched him wider. A third finger pressed into Sam, scraping his prostate, sending jolts through his entire body. Panting through mouth and nose, Sam concentrated on staying still and not shooting his load all over the sheets.

Leaning down, Dean pressed soft, open mouth kisses to Sam's spine, increasing the pressure from his hand on Sam's hips, pressing him flatter to the bed.

Without warning Dean's fingers pulled out of Sam, and his other hand gripped Sam's wrist like an iron clamp. Rolling onto his back as Dean dictated, Sam couldn't help babbling out a plea, "Dean, come on…I need it…let me…need it."

Sliding between Sam's legs, Dean inched up his body until his mouth pressed against the corner of Sam's. "I decide what you need and what you get." Bringing one hand up, he tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and jerked his head to the side, lips and teeth skimming the skin along Sam's neck, biting down every time Sam heaved in a breath and arched under his brother.

Sam moan then cried out when the head of Dean's thick cock pressed between his cheeks and in one smooth push of Dean's hips sank deep into Sam. Licking the length of Sam's neck, Dean pressed his mouth to the top of Sam's throat in the dip where it met his lower jaw. Bodies pressed flush together, Dean moved so every one of his thrusts hit Sam's sweet spot inside and his pelvis ground against Sam's aching cock.

Bringing his arms and legs around his brother, Sam's heels dug into the back of Dean's thighs while his fingers gripped his shoulder blades. The faster Dean's hips moved the harder he pressed his mouth against Sam's throat, cutting off enough of Sam's air he had to struggle to breathe.

Sam was pinned to the bed, his breathing ragged and desperate from lack of air, barely able to move from the way his brother's weight pressed him down and completely at Dean's mercy. He could do nothing but take what Dean gave and he loved it. Feeling every move of Dean's skin against his cock, how their sweat mixed with his precum made him want to burst.

Dean's movements sped up, he pulled nearly out of Sam and shoved back in balls deep again and again, faster and harder, pounding into Sam until neither of them could catch their breath. The entire length of Sam's body was on fire from Dean's skin pressed against him, his cock thrusting deep inside and all the power that was Dean unrestrained and all for Sam.

The word, "Now," got through the haze in Sam's head and he felt Dean fill him with hot, molten liquid a few seconds before his entire body went rigid, arched up against Dean and spasm after spasm rolled up and down his spine. His balls tightened and drew up and his cock throbbed in time with Dean's, shooting his come between them.

Lifting his head enough to let Sam get a full gulp of air, which only heightened his orgasm, Dean moved enough to bend down and bit at Sam's shoulder, groaning out, "Mine…Sammy…mine." His other arm slid under Sam's shoulders, pulling them so tightly together Sam couldn't tell where Dean left off and he began.

Easing free of Sam's body, Dean shifted off and rolled away far enough to grab the washcloth he'd brought Sam earlier.

"Let me?" Sam held out his hand, feeling warm and good when Dean smiled softly and dropped the cloth into his waiting palm. He washed his brother down, admiring the dips and grooves of Dean's muscular torso and how the long muscles of his legs twitched when his fingers skimmed across them.

Wiping himself off Sam settled against his brother's side, listening to the steady lub-dub of Dean's heartbeat while his brother's fingers stroked gently through his hair.

-0-

One Month Later

Dean stretched and yawned, keeping his movements careful so as not to wake Sam. Smiling at the shaggy brown hair splayed over his chest, Dean let his fingers trace the tattoo on Sam's back. The kid was all arms and legs and had no qualms about using their length to keep himself securely anchored to Dean every night. Not that Dean minded at all.

They'd found their stride, drew on each other as always and Dean still marveled at the way Sam totally submitted to his control. The shorter the leash, the tighter the bindings and the occasional solid hits to Sam's ass and somehow his kid brother wanted more. Sam was a powerhouse and the most erotic thing was, all that pent up energy was completely at Dean's fingertips and control.

Putting as much distance between them and that crazy witch had been top priority. They both knew they'd walked away far too easily, but whatever trap Patrick had thought he was springing hadn't worked. Dean and Sam had driven away and to a new, and in Dean's estimation, much better part of their lives. He had no way of knowing where Patrick was now, but with any luck he was half a continent away.

Sam yawned against his right pec, sloppy wet kisses trailed down toward his navel and Sam's hand skimmed over his sides. "I'm hungry."

Dean chuckled and rubbed the top of Sam's head, urging him farther down. "Me too." Pushing against Sam's shoulder, Dean nudged him off the bed. "Kneel."

Like liquid grace Sam slipped off the bed and knelt on the floor as Dean oozed down far enough he could hang his legs off the edge and lean back on his elbows. Spreading his legs wider, he sucked in a quick breath and moaned his appreciation when Sam blew warm, gentle puffs of air over his inner thighs, then his balls.

"Hands behind your back, use just your mouth on my balls," Dean instructed.

At once Sam complied, which aroused Dean all the more. A few minutes of Sam's tongue swirling over his balls, sucking him in and Dean ordered more. Rising up on his knees, Sam twisted his head and took Dean's length in his mouth. It didn't take long before Dean was spilling into Sam's hot, wet mouth, hips gyrating and gasps coming fast and hard from his lips.

When the world slowed along with his heart rate, Dean headed for the shower, Sam grumbling after him. He enjoyed how Sam's hips twitched of their own volition as he washed Dean's body, soaping him up and rinsing him off. Finally sinking to his knees again Sam's mouth pressed to his abs and skimmed over, begging for release.

Nudging against Sam's groin with his toe, Dean smiled and watched, delighted as his brother curled on his side, coming in big, long spurts over the tile floor.

Later they'd go eat, Dean would be sure to rest his foot in Sam's groin while they waited for their food, just to keep him on his toes. Then maybe later he'd indulge his brother's request to be tied down and teased until he couldn't even form the words to beg for release. He hadn't done that in a week or so, and Sam really, really got off on it.

Dean was all about Sam getting off.

Physically they were a perfect match, each tough enough to take whatever the other wanted or dished out. Why Dean hadn't gotten serious about this years ago he'd never know.

There was another hunt, as always, and they'd spend late tonight chasing some bad thing before hitting the open road and following it where it took them. Whatever was coming they'd figure it out—together.

-0-

Patrick sat at the bar of his hotel, swirling dark, amber liquid around a round, thick bottomed glass. It was what was in his other hand that made him smile. A mason jar filled with another sort of liquid. He gave it a shake, admiring how it shimmered in the soft lighting.

Dean Winchester may believe he'd won their first go around, but it was only a matter of time before Sam became far too much for him to handle and he'd slip up. Patrick would be waiting when he did, and if for some reason that didn't happen, well Patrick had what was in his mason jar.

He'd let Sam go—this time—next time he'd not have to make such a choice. Patrick was too experienced a card player to not know when to throw in one hand for the whole game.

Sitting back, Patrick smiled and hummed to himself. He'd track the brothers Winchester as long as it took. Sam Winchester was his, it was meant to be and always had been. The boy merely needed time to realize his brother was incapable of fulfilling his many and complicated needs.

It was only a matter of time and Patrick had nothing but time.

The End