The first time it happened, the Winchesters blamed it on the fact that they had been really, really drunk. And while they had been entirely too drunk that night, they both knew that wasn't the reason they'd slept together. But they had agreed that they were not, under any circumstances, going to talk about it. It was going to be just another thing in a long line of things that got shoved under a rug, like the time Sam caught Dean with his chem lab partner in the backseat of the impala.

A week later Sam looked at Dean over their cheap diner food. "I think we should talk about it."

Dean dropped his half eaten bacon cheeseburger. "Aw, c'mon Sammy! Why?"

"Because Dean! We both know we were lying to ourselves and each other when we said just this once!"

Dean looked away, grimacing. "Sam, you're my little brother. It's wrong. Not to mention the fact that you're a dude!"

Sam cocked and eyebrow at his brother. "That didn't stop you from fucking me so hard I was sore the next day." Sam saw Dean's jaw clench and he changed his tactics. "Look it's not like we can make Wrong Turn babies or anything! It's just really good sex."

"Sam, c'mon, you're too damn needy to be able to just have sex. Besides, if I just wanted gay sex I sure as hell wouldn't pick my brother!" Dean realized the implications of what he was saying and back pedaled. "I mean, look at me. I could get Brad Pitt," he hastily added, letting his voice take a cocksure tone.

Sam hadn't missed what Dean had said though. He leaned back in his chair, stunned. "It wasn't just about the sex, was it? And you call me the needy one!" Sam laughed, feeling a little superior to his brother for once.

"Shut up! That's not what I meant," Dean grumbled, grabbing his burger back up and taking a huge bite of it, as if to ensure his manliness.

Sam took a serious tone. "Then what did you mean Dean?"

"Look Sam," Dean said, dropping his burger once more. "I was really drunk, really horny, and you were there, also drunk, and also horny. I'm not gay, if that's what you want me to say here."

"What about that time I caught you in the backseat of the impala with your lab partner? What was his name again? Brent? Brad?"

"Brandon," Dean snapped. "And we swore we'd never talk about that!"

"Brandon. Seems like a guy's name to me, Dean," Sam said, loving the threatening look he was getting from Dean.

"Jesus Sammy, that was one time. I was 16, my hormones were going crazy, and there were literally no hot chicks in that town."

"But there were, apparently, hot guys," Sam smirked.

"All we did was make out Sammy, no big deal."

"It was a big enough deal that you remember his name over ten years later." Dean's eyes were positively glowing with anger now. Sam watched him grind his teeth together, barely containing a smile. He loved getting Dean riled up like that.

Sam was surprised when Dean stood, jerking a handful of bills out of his pocket and dropping them on the table. He was already out the door before Sam had even been able to stand. He quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and raced out the door after his brother. Dean was already in the car, engine purring. He began backing out the spot and only Sam's long legs allowed him to get behind the car before it was gone.

"What the hell are you doing Sam? I could've run over you!" Dean yelled out the window.

Sam came around the side of the car, climbing into the passenger seat. "Dude, you were going like six miles an hour."

"Whatever," Dean grumbled, throwing the car into gear and pealing out the parking lot.

Dean expected Sam to try to sit him down for some chick flick talk when they got back to the motel but he was taken by surprise when the second they walked in the door Sam pushed him into a wall, cutting off his words of protest by kissing him deeply.

Sam pushed his body as close as possible to Dean's, rocking his hips ever so slightly, feeling the denim of both their jeans become tighter as their erections grew. Initially Dean had been nearly unresponsive, practically shocked into submission, but then he reacted. He started to slide his hands around Sam's waist, but Sam stopped him. He pulled back from the kiss and stepped away from Dean, leaving him high and dry, shuddering against the wall of a cheap motel.

"What the fuck Sam?"

Sam coolly glanced over his shoulder at Dean, carefully standing so his brother couldn't see his erection. "What?"

"Why'd you -" Dean stopped, realizing he was about to say stop. He quickly finished the sentence with "do that?"

Sam had heard that pause, and he knew his brother well enough to know what he'd been about to say. And he knew him well enough to know that Dean knew he knew.

"I thought you said this was wrong, that you'd just done it because we were drunk and horny and there," he said putting biting emphasis on the last word.

Dean blinked, realizing for the first time that maybe he'd hurt Sammy when he'd said that. He looked down at the ugly carpet, embarrassed. He hadn't wanted to hurt him. He made a snap decision.

"Do you want to know why I made out with that Brandon kid?" he asked quietly, unsure what Sam's reaction would be.

"Yes. I have since I caught you," Sam said earnestly, turning around to face his brother.

"He kind of looked like an older version of you. At least what I thought you'd look like at the time," Dean said, still looking at the floor. A pink tinge swept his cheeks and neck, something Sam didn't see very often.

Sam thought back to the night he'd caught them. His Dad was out hunting some baddie, but he'd left the car with them. Sam had been twelve, old enough to stay in their rented house by himself, so Dean had went out. A few hours later Sam had heard the impala roll into the house's garage, but he didn't hear the engine shut off. Sam had just recently learned about carbon monoxide poisoning, and he was at that age where as soon as you learn about something new that can kill you, you assume it will. So he'd raced out to the garage to warn Dean, only to find him lip locked with another guy in the backseat.

Dean had been furious, making Sam swear on his life that he would never, ever tell Dad, and that they would never talk about it again. Sam swore, and after that he'd only ever seen Dean chasing skirts, so it never came up again. But now Sam thought about it, thought back to what that guy looked like. Same reddish brown hair, with a slightly lanky build, although not too lanky. But back then they'd had no idea how tall Sam would get, so he could see the resemblance between himself and that Brandon kid.

"Wow," he said aloud, a whisper in the air between them. "He kinda did." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, surprised that his brother would reveal that. "Why did you tell me that?" he asked suspiciously.

Dean grimaced. He'd known Sammy would want to know that. He rubbed the back of his neck, making eye contact with anything in the room other than his brother. "Because uh…" He cleared his throat. "You were right about, uh, the 'it's not just sex for me' thing, ok?" he grumbled, lowering his voice another octave in an effort to sound manlier.

Sam grinned, clearly the winner already, but wanting to drag out his victory. "What are you saying, Dean?"

Dean was uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure if it was because his little brother was forcing him to profess his love or if it was because his little brother was looking at him with those intense eyes and right now his pants were just too damn tight. So instead of telling Sam what he was saying, he crossed the room, grabbing him roughly and tossing him down on one of the beds. He'd show him what he was saying.

"I guess this answers my question," Sam said breathlessly.

"You ask too many questions as it is Sammy," Dean said, silencing any further questions with his tongue. Dean knew, somewhere in a tiny part of his mind pushed to the very back, that he should be really grossed out by the fact that he was lying on top of his brother, kissing him roughly, but the rest of his brain was telling him just how turned on he was, so he chose to listen to that part of him.

He straddled Sam's hips, rocking his against them the way Sam had done to him earlier. It felt good to feel their dicks rubbing together, even through their jeans. Both of them were rock hard, and even though they had done this before, it was different this time. This time they were sober, they could take their time and actually make sense of what they were doing.

Not that either of them really could make sense of it, but it didn't mean they wouldn't try. Dean left Sam's mouth, trailing small bites down his jaw and onto his neck, where he bit and sucked until he knew there would be a nice purple hicky there tomorrow. Sam let his fingers slide under Dean's green t shirt, taking a moment to marvel at the way it's shade matched Dean's eyes perfectly. His hands slid over Dean's muscular abdomen, stopping on his nipples. He let his fingers play with them, tweaking and pulling, enjoying the shallowness of Dean's breathing. He liked that.

Dean ground his hips down into Sam's loving not just the sensation between his legs, but loving the way he could feel their hip bones scraping together. Sam was teasing under his shirt, so he leaned back, yanked it off, and then went back to assailing Sam's neck. But Sam was bored of that job and his hands fell to Dean's jeans. More descriptively, the button and zipper. He had them undone and pushed around Dean's thighs before Dean could stop him, not that he was planning to.

Sam casually slipped two fingers into the waistband of Dean's underwear, pulling them down over the sizeable bulge. Sam new exactly what he wanted to do, and he quickly took control, rolling them over and pinning Dean to the mattress. He kissed the hollow in his throat, ignoring the surprise on his face. Sam let his tongue and lips leave a trail down Dean's chest, stopping momentarily to take his nipple between his teeth, eliciting a nice sharp gasp. He goes back to kissing, licking, and biting all too quick for Dean's tastes though. He darted a tongue into Dean's bellybutton, but kept going. He reached Dean's hips, gently biting the upraised bump of the bone. Without warning he turned his head and took Dean into his mouth.

Dean gasped. "Sam!" he exclaimed, breathing jaggedly already. Sam expertly licked and sucked in all the right places. Dean's hands found Sam's long hair and he wove his fingers through it, gripping hard. When Sam tongued the underside of the head Dean almost lost himself. He pulled Sam's head up roughly by the hair.

"You've done this before," he said, both questioning and accusing.

Sam grinned. "A few times. College is the perfect time for experimentation and my first roommate agreed." Dean's jaw dropped, but that was apparently enough explanation for Sam, and when he went back to what he'd been doing Dean decided it was enough for him too.

Dean could barely hold himself together while Sam worked on him. One hand stayed in Sam's hair, guiding him although he'd proven he could do it all on his own, the other hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets. His back arched and he couldn't help but push his hips upward, forcing his dick farther down Sam's throat. Undeterred by Dean's forcefulness, Sam teased Dean with his tongue, bringing him to the edge and then carefully pulling him back, just to push him to the edge again seconds later.

But Dean couldn't take it any longer and he came in quick spurts, a low gravelly moan tearing from his throat, hips thrusting himself even deeper. Sam swallowed the hot liquid and licked Dean clean. Dean pulled Sam back up, kissing him roughly, tasting himself on his brother's lips and feeling satisfied, as if that had marked Sam as his.

Sam pulled back. "Do you need time to, uh…" he looked between them where Dean was now hanging limply.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Do you think that I'm 80?" he growled. He grabbed Sam and roughly rolled them back to their original position, yanking Sam's clothes off as he went. Just seeing Sam being submissive underneath him gave him another erection. Sam's boxers were the last to go and then they were both naked together.

Dean shoved two fingers into Sam's mouth, getting even harder when Sam sucked on them obediently. He pulled his finger's out of Sam's mouth and used them to probe Sam's hole. Sam's back arched with pleasure as Dean's fingers came into contact with a bundle of nerves.

"God, you're already ready for this. Needy slut," Dean said, finding sick pleasure in insulting his brother. Dean glanced down at his spit slicked cock, lining it up with Sam's hole and then pushing himself all the way in in one quick movement. They both gasped, momentarily unsure of what to do, brains to foggy with lust. But then Sam wrapped his long legs around Dean's waist and Dean began moving. He thrust slowly at first, to give Sam to acclimate to his girth, but then Sam began moving his hips in a get-with-the-program sort of way, so Dean picked up speed, thrusting himself harder and deeper, hitting every sweet spot Sam had. Sam was crying out, chest heaving, body begging for Dean to touch him, but Dean waited, knowing Sam had to be aching by now.

"You have to ask for it Sammy," he grunted. Not slowing his pace. He gripped Sam's hips mercilessly, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for Sam to beg like he knew he would.

"Dean…" Sam gasped. "Touch me…"

"You have to beg Sammy."

"Please Dean, just…please touch me Dean." Sam begged between gasps and moans.

Dean bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, thrusting into Sammy at a pace that was causing the bed to shake. "What do you want me to do?" he asked mercilessly.

"Make me come Dean, I'm begging you, touch me…"

Dean did, taking his hand and wrapping it around Sam's hot cock. He pumped a couple of times, rolling his thumb over the tip and spreading the precum back down as he went in lieu of using lube. He tried to match the pace of his hand to that of his hips as he caressed Sam's velvety skin, but he didn't have time to match them. He slammed into Sam and his brother cried out, spurting all over their stomachs and Dean's hand.

Dean came to a few seconds after, his hips slamming into Sam until he was finished, then he pulled out, collapsing on his back next to Sam. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes because they were too busy trying to slow their erratic heartbeats and catch their breath. But then Sam spoke.

"I knew that meant something to you. What we just did and what we did last week. I'm

not stupid Dean."

Dean sighed. "I didn't say you were stupid. But I mean, you gotta agree with me here. This is kind of fucked up," he said, gesturing at the two of them lying in bed together, naked and sweaty.

"Well… Kinda, I guess."

"Kinda? I just fucked my little brother in the ass after he sucked me off. That's a bit more than kinda Sam."

Sam shrugged. "Think about it this way Dean. Our whole lives it's been me, you and Dad. And for the past few years, it's just been me and you. Alone together, all the time, unable to hide anything from each other, going through some pretty intense shit together. I mean, I died six months ago, and you sold your soul to get me back, all because you couldn't face life without me. That's not something someone that just loves a guy as a brother would do Dean, that's a big romantic gesture move."

Dean grimaced. Sammy was right and he knew it. It's not like he hadn't thought the way he felt about Sam was weird before now. As if Sam could read his thought he asked, "Why did you just now act on this? Is it because you only have a few months left?" Any tone of joking about romantic gestures was gone from his voice. This was pure hurting Sam.

Now it was Dean's turn to shrug. "I wasn't completely lying earlier when I said that we only did that last week because we were drunk. I was telling the truth about that, I just was lying about not wanting to do it otherwise. But I couldn't say anything Sam. Our lives our fucked up enough without having to deal with my obviously unclear sexuality or the fact that I was maybe in love with my little brother. And if we hadn't gotten so drunk I still wouldn't have done anything."

"Why not?" Sam asked, sounding hurt.

Dean rolled onto his side, propping his head up on an elbow. He wanted to look Sam in the eye when he said this. "Because I'm dead Sammy. I have a few months left, but I'm dead meat walking. We're not going to break this deal, we both know that. I don't even want to try Sammy, because every time we do we're risking whoever holds my contract finding out and killing you. And I would rather burn in hell forever than let that happen, I don't care how gay and weird that sounds."

Sam wanted to hug Dean but he knew he would just get pushed away with accusations of being a girl. He knew that despite Dean's manly bravado, his brother was terrified. He could see it in his eyes.

Dean flopped back down on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"We'll figure something out Dean. I promise," Sam said.

"God I hope so," Dean replied quietly.