Disclaimer; I own nothing but the writing

Warning; Explicit Wincest, please don't read if it'll offend you.


The first time Sam tops is a Friday. The middle of a warm summer, a year and two months before he leaves for Stanford. It's not something they'd ever discussed, who topped and who bottomed, it was just something they'd fallen into, a pattern of sorts. Sam enjoyed the feeling of Dean filling him, opening him and taking him, and Dean enjoyed topping, liked giving Sam that pleasure. They never questioned it, and if either of them thought about changing that order, wondered what it would be like, they didn't mention it.

But something changed, on that Friday. Sam didn't quite know what it was - it happened when he wasn't looking, an argument or a fight or a revelation - he never asked, after that night, and Dean never told. He just knew that he'd never seen Dean look so defeated, so broken and bruised and beaten.

Sam had never been particularly good with words, not when it came to Dean, and the sight of his brother, his older brother, who was always so strong, so steady - the sight of Dean with tears in his eyes, struggling to hold himself together in front of Sam - stole any words he had left to say.

Instead, he fell to his knees by Dean, hands reaching out to draw his face closer, thumbs stroking across bloody skin and tear-stained bruises.

"What happened?" he murmured, eyes scanning Dean's for some kind of reassurance that Dean was okay, that this would all be okay. But Dean just shook his head, eyes filling up all over again as his fingers clutched desperately at The back of Sam's hands.

"Dean, please, you're scaring me..." Sam's voice trailed off, his words failing him yet again as Dean smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry Sam," he whispered, raising one hand and tracing a shaking finger down Sam's cheek.

"No- no, don't apologise Dean, just tell me what's wrong, please." Pleading - he was pleading with his brother now and they both knew it. Dean's lips curved into another bitter smile, and his head shook resolutely again.

"No, Sammy, I'm sorry for everything. For doing this to you. I'm so fucking sorry, I-" His breath caught in his throat, breaking off in a harsh sob, and Sam began to understand, shaking his head uncertainly.

"Dean-" But Dean cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips, eyes filled with a sorrow so deep Sam could imagine drowning in it, wondered if that was how Dean felt.

"You're so fucking perfect Sam," he breathed, as though it was the first time he'd seen it. "You deserve so much, everything you've ever wanted. You should be happy, and instead you're stuck with me and Dad, so completely fucked up, and I'm making it worse. I'm just... Ruining you even more. I can't-" another sob, another tear rolling down Dean's cheek "I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry."

"Dean, you never fucked me up, I chose this. I wanted this. You know that. I never wanted anything else, never. Not once."

"But you should have." The words tumbled out in a messy rush, almost like a slap to Sam's face. "Don't you see, Sammy? You shouldn't want me. I'm... I'm nothing. I'm wasted, a complete waste. You should have so much more." Sam's eyes filled with tears, and he smoothed his palms across Dean's cheek, fingers splayed out.

"Shut up," he breathed, pulling Dean close. "Just shut up."

"No, Sammy, please, you have to understand-"

"What happened?" Sam cut him off with the question, meeting Dean's eyes steadily. "What happened today, Dean? What made you say these things?"

"They're the truth, Sam. I've always known it, I just- I don't think you ever saw it. How wrong I am for you. How much more you should have."

"But I don't want more, Dean. I want you. That's all I've ever wanted, all I've ever needed. You."

"I... I don't deserve you. I shouldn't have you, you shouldn't want me." Dean was repeating himself, and Sam could see the desperation in his eyes - and buried beneath it, the self-loathing, the disgust, the complete and utter belief in what he was saying.

"Why?" Sam breathed the words into Dean's lips, gaze burning into Dean's eyes. "Why don't you?"

"I'm not a good person. I'm not... I can't love you like you should be loved."

"Nobody could ever love me the way you do, Dean." Sam smiled into Dean's lips, their breath meeting, mixing between them. "Nobody else has enough heart. I've never met anyone with more love than you. Never. And I always think you've given too much, that you'll have no more left to give, and you always surprise me, Dean. You always prove me wrong."

Dean shook his head again, mouth opening to protest, and Sam silenced him with a kiss.

"I don't know what I'd do without you Dean. You're everything - everything I could ever ask for and more. And you deserve to be happy, more than anyone else on this planet. You've suffered so much, and you never complain - you give so much and never ask for anything in return. Please, Dean. Let me make you happy. Let me show you what you deserve."

Dean's eyes flickered closed, then opened, staring intently into Sam's eyes, searching through them for something, Sam didn't know what. A moment of hesitation, Dean tensing in front of him, fingers digging into Sam's cheeks, and then he relaxed, nodded slowly.

"Show me."

Sam's faced folded into a wide smile, and he pressed his hand to Dean's, turning it and entwining their fingers together. He leant forward, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's mouth, then rose to his feet, tugging Dean with him. He lead Dean slowly over to the bed, pressing him back down into the rough, motel sheets, running his hands across Dean's chest and shoulders, then down his stomach to the bottom of his shirt.

Dean caught Sam's wrist as he pulled the shirt over Dean's head, fingers tense against the skin.

"Sam, don't... I don't want you to do this because you feel like you have to. You don't owe me anything, please, I just-" Sam cut him off with another kiss, sighing into Dean's mouth.

"You don't get it, do you? This isn't about owing or needing or giving or taking. It was never about that." And he felt Dean relax beneath him at the words, eyes closing and mouth pushing forward into Sam's mouth. Because it was the truth, and they both knew it. It wasn't ever about what they owed each other. It was about want and love and worship.

Sam's hands returned to Dean's chest, fingers spreading out over the tanned skin and tracing gentle patterns with a kind of reverence that stole Dean's breath away. His lips quirked into a smile as he brushed his fingers over Dean's nipples, enjoying the jolt that travelled through Dean's body, his hips jerking upwards into Sam's.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." The words fell out of Sam's mouth before he could stop them, soft and filled with awe, almost like a prayer. Dean's eyes fluttered closed again, lashes trembling against his cheeks as his hands gripped Sam's arms tightly.

Their mouths met in another messy kiss, tongues tangling together and teeth scraping and biting roughly. Dean's hands dropped to Sam's chest, expert fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt and scrambling to push it back, off of Sam's shoulders. Sam lifted his arms from Dean for a second, riding onto his knees, letting his arms fall behind him, the shirt sliding off. Dean just stared, watching the muscles ripple under the smooth skin, hands flying over curves and contours like he was afraid he'd never see them again.

Sam smiled down at his brother, eyes full of a tender love, and Dean met his gaze, trying to convey the feelings swirling around his chest. He didn't know if it worked or not, but if it didn't, Sam must have guessed what he was trying to say, because his lips were pressed frantically against Deans only second later, fingers running down Dean's sides until they met the waistband of his jeans. Dean moaned, long and low into Sam's mouth, and Sam rolled his hips down into Dean's in response.

Dean pulled back roughly, his breath coming in heavy pants, fingers fumbling with the fly of Sam's jeans, smirking triumphantly as he got it open. Sam laughed gently, lifting his hips and pushing the denim down, kicking off his socks and shoes with it. A moment of clumsy hands later and Dean's jeans had joined his on the floor, both their boxers following soon after.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he looked up and caught Dean's eye, the words he was going to say dying in his mouth. Dean's gaze was filled with so much passion and adoration and fucking desire, and it all went straight to Sam's groin, where his erection was brushing tantalisingly up against his brother's.

"Dean, I-" he began, but Dean silenced him with another well-timed kiss.

"Shut up and fuck me, Sammy." Sam's eyes widened slightly, and his cheeks flushed, but he just nodded dumbly and ran his hands up Dean's inner thighs, pushing his legs apart.

He pressed his lips softly to Dean's neck, his tongue flicking out and tasting the sweat-slicked skin, then slid them down to Dean's collarbone. Dean's hands matted in Sam's hair as Sam's hand brushed higher, the pad of his finger working at Dean's entrance lightly, just the tiniest amount of pressure, but enough to drive Dean crazy.

"Tease," Dean forced out, and Sam just smiled into his skin, his mouth dropping lower until he was circling his tongue lazily around one dusky nipple. Dean's breath hitched again, and Sam hummed gently, fixing his mouth around the tender skin and sucking, hard.

Their hips rolled together again, Dean's body pushing down into Sam's finger slightly, and another moan slipped from Dean's mouth. Sam's grin widened, and he crawled further down the bed, pressing soft, hot kisses onto Dean's stomach and then down onto his hips. Sam's finger circled Dean's hole again and again, and his breath tickled his sensitive skin as Sam's mouth slid lower and lower, nose nuzzling into Dean's balls.

And then- And then Dean's breath was stuck completely, his body convulsing on the bed as Sam's tongue slid out and pressed lightly against his entrance. Sam laughed again, low and loving, and the sound sent vibrations up Dean's body, his hands clenching into the sheets. Sam pushed hard, the flat of his tongue running across Dean's body, then pulled back so only the tip was touching him, circling around the soft pink skin.

Dean groaned, a low, guttural sound, and pushed his hips down desperately, wanting, more than anything, to feel Sam filling him, stretching him open and claiming him. Sam seemed to know exactly what he needed, and Dean could feel the fucking smirk that spread across his lips as he pressed harder and the tip of his tongue slid inside Dean.

Sam couldn't hold back the moan that burst from his lips as his tongue inched inside of Dean. It was almost too much, the taste of Dean filling him completely, heady and strong, and his tongue curled instinctively, trying to taste more. Dean's stifled cry made him jerk back, but Dean's hands were firm on his head, pushing him forward again, and he dug deeper instead, feeling Dean writhe above him.

When he slid a finger in, slowly, underneath his tongue, Dean stiffened. Sam paused, giving him a chance to get used to the intrusion, and realised he had no idea whether Dean had done anything like this before. The idea sent another heady rush of arousal through him, and he almost didn't notice Dean's hips pressing down into him, his brother gasping above him.

Smirking, Sam cocked his finger, searching for the spot that he knew would make this feel better than Dean could ever hope for – and when Dean froze, head falling back and hands tightening in Sam's hair, mouth dropping open in a soundless cry, he knew he'd found it. He pulled his finger back and slid it back in again, pressing the tip into that spot again and again, watching as Dean trembled and shook above him.

When he pulled out, Dean almost whined in frustration, and Sam shook his head, leaning up to kiss him as he reached for the lube they kept on the bedside table.

Dean's back arched off the bed when Sam slid two fingers inside him, head dropping back and pushing into the mattress. Sam smiled, pressing his mouth to Dean's chest, feeling Dean's heart racing under his lips as Dean spat out strangled curses above him. He paused, and then extended another finger, pushing it in slowly. Dean choked slightly, body stiffening, before grinding his hips down hard into Sam's hand.

Sam let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, lips parting and tongue sliding hot and wet against Dean's skin. Dean moaned again, hands scrabbling desperately at Sam's hair and pulling him up for another messy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing in heated mouths. Dean was panting softly as he pulled back and whispered into Sam's lips, soft as anything, fuck me.

Sam could feel his breathing picking up, pulse racing and cock hardening even further, eyes snapping to Dean's. Dean just smiled, breath shaky, and ran his hand down Sam's back and over one slim hip, knocking Sam's fingers away. Sam moved his hand obediently, grasping Dean's hips as Dean spread his legs wider, his firm grip wrapping around Sam's erection and guiding it to his entrance.

He looked up one last time, caressed Sam's cheek with his free hand, and breathed a quivering yes against Sam's mouth, pulling him down for a kiss as Sam's hips slid forward.

It was soft, tight heat, surrounding Sam so completely and utterly unlike anything had ever surrounded him before. And through the fog of his desire and love and pleasure shone the thought that Dean had never done anything like this before – never opened himself up for anyone else before – and that just made it that much more intense, that much more intimate.

When his eyes flickered open, Dean's face was relaxing, the tight lines of pain disappearing from around his eyes and mouth. Concern blossomed in Sam's mind, but Dean shook his head.

"Move," he hissed, and Sam hurried to do so, forcing his hips forward then drawing back and sliding back down again. After a few slow, clumsy thrusts, Dean groaned and snapped his hips up to meet Sam's, and the change of angle meant Sam's cock pressed into a spot that had Dean's body curving and his breath catching all over again.

Sam began moving faster, watching as Dean lost control beneath him, eyes half-closed and mouth slack with pleasure, chest heaving and body undulating beneath Sam's hands. His hips rolled like waves, rising to meet each of Sam's thrusts, ass clenching and relaxing around Sam's erection and oh, oh-

He wasn't going to last long if Dean kept moaning out his name like that, muscles squeezing Sam tight and gentle, gaze filled with an overwhelming mixture of love and lust. Gritting his teeth, he traced his fingers down Dean's torso, curling them over Dean's cock and jerking roughly- and that was all it took to send Dean spiralling over the edge, world exploding behind his eyes as his hips heaved one last time, body writhing and twisting as he spilled across both of their stomachs.

Sam's hips pistoned in and out a few more times, and then he was coming too, everything shattering into shards of pure, white-hot pleasure around him. His arms gave out, and he collapsed on top of Dean, breathing heavily. Dean's hands lifted to his face and pushed his hair away from his eyes tenderly, stroking down his sweat-slicked cheeks.

"So fucking gorgeous," he murmured, his fingertips ghosting over Sam's lips, and Sam snorted, shaking his head.

"Fuck you, Dean."

"Been there, done that," Dean retorted, smiling tiredly. Sam laughed and rolled off of his brother, lifting his arm as Dean snuggled into his side, eyes drooping closed.