"Shit Dean." The panic was obvious in Sam's voice as he glanced over at his brother's slumped figure in the passenger's seat of the Impala, putting the pedal to the floor. Sam should have known something bad was going to happen when Dean even suggested the hunt two days ago in Tulsa.
"Come on Sammy, we have been here for like a week now. I'm going stir crazy man." Dean had been bugging Sam about leaving for days now. He even went so far as to actually darken the doorway of the local library, desperate to find a case to get them out of there.
"Dean, I don't know. I mean a banshee? No one has heard of them being prominent anywhere other than Ireland and certainly not smack dab in the middle of farm country America."
"Sam look, I got all the information right here. Four different people, all claiming to have heard a woman singing just days before someone in their family dies. Some even reported seeing her." Dean threw the stacks of paper down in front of his younger brother to investigate the findings for himself.
"Dean, all of this information comes from personal blogs. There is not one reference to any news article or any significantly credible resource." Sam said incredulously, not at all surprised by the lack of serious evidence his brother had dug up.
"Dude whatever. You know they aren't going to print that shit in the papers anyway. Come on man!" Dean used Sam's own personal weapon, the dreaded puppy dog eyes against him.
"Ugh, fine. But if this doesn't pan out, we are staying put for awhile. I can't bear to choke down another artery deteriorating meal from yet another health code violating diner."
"Sure thing princess," Dean beamed as he began packing.
Now they were knee deep in shit in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Goddamn banshees. Of all the supernatural creatures in the world, Dean had to go and find the only fucking banshee outside of Ireland. The fight turned ugly real quick seeing as how the boys decided to interrupt the banshee's death song. The old hag whipped around at the sound of Dean creeping up behind her, slicing him right across the chest. Sam managed to torch her just as he saw Dean crumple to the ground, his screams of agony ripping through the night air worst than the banshee's cry. Sam had ripped Dean's shirt the rest of the way off and torn it so that he could wrap it around his body to form a makeshift tourniquet to try to stem the bleeding but he could still see blood flowing pretty well from beneath it, running down Dean's stomach and staining the waistband of his jeans.
Sam carried Dean back to the car and that's where he found himself now; watching his brother drift in and out of consciousness, head slumped against the window. Sam pulled into the parking lot outside of their motel and jumped out of the car and over to Dean's side to help his barely conscious brother out of the car.
"Sammy," Dean groggily spoke, wincing in pain as he tried to turn to look at Sam.
"I got you Dean, I'm here. Let's get you inside." Sam reached inside the car and all but lifted Dean out of the seat, trying to not to cause him any more pain than he was already in. Sam managed to get the door unlocked and hobble his way inside. He went immediately for the room's tiny bathroom and planted Dean firmly on the toilet seat before dashing back out to the bedroom to grab the first aid kit. By the time he returned Dean had somehow slid off the seat and was leaning back against the side of the tub.
"It's much cooler like this," he explained at Sam's worried look.
Sam ignored his brother and set the items down on the previously occupied toilet seat and began to arrange everything he would need to stitch Dean up. He got two wet towels in order to clean the wound and surrounding skin. Sam took special care to go over the wound slowly, making sure to remove any foreign object that might have lodged itself inside his brother's chest. He noticed while doing so the cut was a lot deeper than he originally thought which explained the unnerving amount of blood that coated his brother's skin and clothing. Sam then opened the new pack of needles and set about the task of sewing his brother up.
Dean watched with a glazed look in his eyes as Sam's practiced fingers skated across his skin, feather light and silky smooth; a stark contrast to the type of life they lived and the work their hands usually did. Dean's eyes wandered up Sam's strong arms, over his broad shoulders, up his neck and to his face. He watched the concentration in Sam's eyes, the way his brows furrowed as he worked efficiently but with enough care that Dean had almost forgotten what was even going on.
Sam could feel Dean's eyes drifting across his skin, leaving burning trails in their wake. He tried to focus exclusively on healing his older brother, not about how good it felt to be holding Dean's body so close to his own or the heat from his brother's body hitting him in uncontrollable waves. He unconsciously pulled Dean's body closer to his own, finishing off the last few stitches. He dropped his hands to grab the second towel, upset at the loss of warmth beneath his hands, feeling his brother's slow breaths beneath his fingertips. Sam used extra caution as he wiped the towel across his brother's tender skin, making sure to clean all the blood, not wanting to see it soil his brother's perfect image anymore than it already had.
Dean glanced down once again at Sam's hands and something inside him kicked him right in the brain. He grabbed Sam's wrist, stopping his brother cold, looking him dead in the eye. Sam could see it there too, the realization combined with confusion and a little bit of surprise. They stayed like that for a long moment, just watching the other to see who would make the first move.
"Sam," Dean whispered, sliding his hand up Sam's arm and coming down to rest against Sam's left side, pulling him closer still as he just looked down, not being able to hold his brother's gaze. Both boys held their breath, waiting for the next move. Dean tightened his grip around his brother, deep green eyes meeting hazel ones and reflecting the same emotions. No other words were shared as Dean leaned up as best he could considering his injury and covered Sam's mouth with his own.
Sam could feel the rush of his blood so loud in his ears as he watched Dean lean up and capture his lips, almost in slow motion. There was no hesitation before he responded and began to kiss his brother back, moving to straddle his brother's lap all the while being careful not to place his weight completely on top of Dean and his stitches. Dean's free hand came up to bury itself in Sam's dark locks, wrenching his head back to gain access to the tanned flesh of his younger brother's neck. Sam moaned outright from the feeling of his hair being pulled tight mixed with the sharp bite Dean gave his throat, right over the artery. Sam's nails dug deep into Dean's shoulders, a small amount of blood trickling from the miniature wounds to mix with the blood that already stained Dean's jeans.
Dean pulled back, watching the glazed over look in Sam's eyes and the satisfied expression on his face. "God, Sammy. What are you doing to me?" Dean asked his brother, wrapping both hard, calloused hands around his brother's face.
"I could ask you the same question big brother." Sam smirked down at Dean as he proceeded to remove his shirt. Sam was wasting no time he was too lost in the fact that his dream was finally coming true. Dean reached for Sam's belt buckle and quickly had it and his zipper undone while Sam worked on his. Sam stood up long enough to strip out of his jeans and boxers before straddling Dean's waist once again in order to help him slide his jeans and boxers down around his ankles. Sam immediately lunged for Dean's swollen cock, taking it in skillfully, nearly to the base and moaning around it like he had found his rightful place in the world. Dean's hand again immediately locked in Sam's hair, guiding his brother even though he was doing just fine on his own. Dean suddenly pulled up hard on Sam's hair stopping him. "Why did you stop me?" Sam asked, looking completely debauched and far too wanton to be safe for Dean who nearly came from the sight of spit and precome smeared around his brother's mouth.
"I want to be buried much deeper somewhere else when that happens Sammy." Dean sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth and thoroughly coated them before pushing both of them past the tight ring of muscle around Sam's hole. The youngest Winchester cried out at the feeling and slowly began to rotate his hips, wanting to feel his brother press deeper inside of him. Soon enough Dean was pressing a third and fourth finger inside of his brother who had started up a constant up and down rhythm, feeling Dean's fingers brush his prostate just slightly, trying hard to get more of the feeling.
"Dean please, I can't wait anymore." Sam begged; sweat shining on his skin even in the poorly lit bathroom.
Dean reluctantly pulled his hand from inside of his brother and moved to grab Sam's hips pulling him so that he was hovering over his pulsing member. Sam slowly lowered himself down on top of Dean, wanting to feel each inch as it slid inside of him. What seemed like a lifetime later, Dean bottomed out inside of Sam and the two wasted no time enjoying the feeling, starting up a smooth rhythm of Dean thrusting upward and Sam meeting him half way and pushing down, perfectly in sync. The sound of sweat slicked skin slapping together and the moans and grunts of intense pleasure were the only audible sounds coming from the entire room. Dean's arms were snaked completely around Sam's waist holding him close, even through the pain it caused in his stitches while Sam pulled on Dean's short hair, locking lips once again while he sat on the edge of climax. "So close Dean, please."
"Come on baby, let me have it. Let it go baby boy." Sam's orgasm rocketed through him with strength he had never felt before, stars bursting beneath his eyelids and he emptied himself in the nonexistent space between his body and his brother's bodies. The clenching of Sam's hole and the feeling of Sam's cock pulsing between them, pouring his hot come over their stomachs pushed Dean straight over the edge, calling out his brother's name as he filled him up.
The two finally let out the breath that they both seemed to have been holding since they returned from the hunt. "I love you." Sam whispered into Dean's neck as he curled his body closer into his older brother, not wanting to separate just yet.
"I love you too," Dean whispered back into the air.