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Title: The Night
Disclaimers: I own nothing. I make no money. All characters of the property of Kripke... he'd either kill me or laugh his head off at my misuse of his boys.
Warnings: Explicit Sex (Wincest) and language
(A/N: HUGE thank you's goes to Jess for beta-ing this beast. I know I slaughtered the English language with this one and you got me back on track with it so thank you so much! Morgana, girl this would have never seen the light of day if it hadn't been for you. Thank you so much for holding my hand and slapping me upside the head when I needed it.)
"Sam!" Dean yelled, his voice echoing against the walls as if the warehouse was empty. But he knew it wasn't. He couldn't allow himself to think of what the building held right now. He turned the flashlight from the floor as he stepped over another lifeless body. "SAM!"
He stopped the instant he heard it, scared to even breathe, worried he would miss it. His heart stopped as he heard it again, so faint it could be an echo, but he knew. He took off in a sprint, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other. "SAM!"
He rounded the corner and heard it again, faint, pained. "Dean!"
"Sam!" he sighed as the beam of light caught on his brother. He flew to his side, sliding on the wet concrete as he tried to stop. He refused to look down at the floor to see what made it wet.
"I knew you would come," Sam repeated over and over again his head lulling forward, the weight of his relief clear in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm here," Dean whispered as he pulled his knife from his back, cutting the rope that held Sam's arms painfully tight above him. Dean caught Sam with a grunt, his knees nearly buckling under his younger brother's weight. "Come on, bro." He wrapped his arm around his waist to hold Sam upright. "Can you walk?"
"I'm so sorry," Sam said, slumping against Dean and, this time, taking them both to the floor.
"Sammy!" Dean pawed at his neck, trying to feel for a pulse, and when he found one, he sighed heavily, resting his head on Sammy's chest. "God, I can't lose you now," he whispered thickly.
Grabbing the flashlight and his gun, shoving one in each pocket, he bent at the waist, letting Sammy lay over his shoulder before standing. "God damn, Sammy." He grunted as he started the push back out of the building.
After twice as long as it took him to find Sam, Dean stepped into the night, inhaling quickly as he moved toward the car. He bent and rested Sam's limp body against his baby's side as he unlocked and pulled open the front passenger door. He maneuvered his younger brother into the seat, letting him fall across the leather, his head resting in the drivers seat.
Sighing heavily, he lifted Sam's head and sat down behind the wheel. He didn't waste any time pulling out of the parking lot, turning Baby around and heading toward the hotel they'd rented two days before Sam went missing during a routine search of a suspected djinn.
He looked down at Sam's head in his lap, his fingers running through his hair as he drove. Occasionally, he reached down and felt Sam's pulse. It was light, but it was there.
"Come on, Sammy," he whispered as he opened the passenger side door once he parked in the hotel parking lot. Dean was fighting back the fear of Sam's unconsciousness by burying himself in the details of taking care of his brother.
"Dean," Sam moaned as Dean pulled him into a sitting position on the seat, and Dean had to stop his movements as his body shook from the emotions running rampant through his body.
"Come on, buddy." He pulled his brother's body over his shoulder again, grabbing the door frame of the Impala as he nearly fell backwards. He huffed air through clenched teeth with each step he took as he moved into the room.
He dropped Sammy onto the bed and fell to his knees as he saw Sammy for the first time in the light. He blinked back tears as he saw his jeans were stained with blood, piss, and other things he wouldn't let himself think about. "Oh, Sammy," he whispered over and over again as his eyes moved further up his body. Sam's shirt was torn, patches of his skin, red and raw, peeking through.
He gasped as he saw Sam's wrists; black and purple marks stood out on his tan skin. Dean lifted Sam's left hand gently, running his hands down the bones. His normally thin, long fingers were swollen twice their size. He couldn't fight the tears as he turned Sam's hand over and saw the half-moon crescents dotting the skin, dried blood sitting in each.
He held Sam's hands to his face as he cried his tears, washing away most of the dirt by the time he lifted his head. He knew he couldn't leave Sam like this, and he slowly, carefully pulled Sam's boots off, followed shortly by his jeans and boxers. He wrenched him to sit again, relishing in the groan that fell from Sam's lips.
Any sound that Sam made now only meant that he would be all right.
Dean caught himself talking to Sammy as if he was awake as he undressed him. He shook his head, knowing Sam wouldn't remember any of it, but it made him feel better… allowed him to forget that the man that he'd wanted since Sam was seventeen was laying in front of him naked.
Once Sam was undressed, Dean left him on the bed as he ran a tub half full of water. When Dean had adjusted the temperature to his liking, he came back and lifted Sammy the best way he could and carefully carried him to the tub.
Dean slowly lowered him into the water, worried it might startle Sam, but when he was resting in the water, Sam's back against the tub, he picked up the bath cloth and soap.
Slowly, he washed his brother's body, careful to clean all the dried urine and blood from his body.
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said as he ran the cloth down Sam's chest. "It's not too bad," he added as he realized that the blood on Sam's stomach was more from scratches than from cuts. "I'll take care of you." He cleaned Sam's left then right arm, careful with Sam's hand, but was relieved to see that the swelling had already started to go down. "You'll be okay. I'm here."
Dean finished washing Sam, leaving his hair for last. It was as hard as he thought it would be, holding him against his chest with one hand while he opened the shampoo with the other. He finished, winding up almost as wet as Sammy as he carried him back to the bed. He waited until he was lying on the bed to dry Sammy off, trying to stave off the time when he would have nothing to do but wait for Sam to wake.
Dean looked down at his brother after tucking him under the covers before going to change his clothes. Minutes later, he sat on his bed, his elbows resting on his knees as his mind ran circles in his head.
"Sammy," he whispered, looking over at his brother. He felt himself moving, and he settled on the side of the bed, pulling Sam's hand into his lap. "I can't lose you." Tears started again.
Sam fought off the fatigue, his body aching in places he wasn't aware he could hurt, knowing he needed to fight. He had to hold on; Dean would be here soon. He knew Dean would save him - he always did.
He struggled to move his hands, instantly realized he wasn't tied anymore, and then he heard the most amazing sound ever: Dean's voice. He tried to listen to what he was saying, wanting to remember, but his body couldn't. His mind went hazy a moment later, but he knew he would be okay. Dean was here.
Dean wiped the tears from his face as he looked down at Sammy. "I can't do this alone. It's not worth it without you," he whispered, lifting his hand to run it down the side of Sam's face. "God, Sammy, please wake up." He laughed. "Wake up and tell me what kind of douche I'm being."
He closed his eyes. As he wept, his tears landed heavily on Sam's hand and thigh. "I need you, Sammy. Please, Sammy. You can't leave me."
He leaned forward, carefully moving against Sam's side. He knew he was coming apart, the tears were flowing even faster now, but he didn't try to slow them, knowing no one would ever know.
"Please, Sammy," he mumbled, mostly unaware of what he was saying as he cried, wrapping his arms around Sam and holding him tightly against his chest. "I love you, Sammy. I need you. There's so much I want- so much I need to tell you," he whispered, "You can't leave me, not like this." He sobbed, the memory of their father's death slamming back into the front of his mind. He knew he would never survive losing Sammy since his father's death hurt like it did.
Slowly, the tears lulled him to sleep, his arms still wrapped tightly around Sam's shoulders.
Sam eyes slammed open as lightening flashed, the room fully illuminated for just a moment, but it was enough to know that he was safe. He felt his body relax back on the bed, enjoying the softness of the pillow behind his head, and he became aware of the warm body beside him in the tiny space.
"Dean?" He moved his hand to Dean's back, shocked to feel skin and not his typical t-shirt. He felt a smile spread across his face as Dean mumbled his name in his sleep. "Thank you," he whispered, knowing Dean would never allow him to thank him while he was awake.
He moved onto his side, scooting until his entire back pressed against Dean's always-warm skin. He felt the sleep creeping back onto him, and he welcomed it, wanting to relish in being safe, if only for tonight.
"Please, Sammy." Dean's voice was thick with tears, sounds in the blackness of Sam's dreams. He shook his head, wanting Dean to be okay. This wasn't like Dean. Dean didn't fall apart.
"I love you, Sammy." The words seemed to mean so much more in the quietness, more than just the brotherly love that he knew from Dean.
"I'll always take care of you. Please, Sammy."
Sammy sighed, the sound echoing in his mind, and let it go, relishing in the idea of Dean actually loving him the way he'd always wanted.
Without his consent, his mind opened, his memories flashing in front of him, and suddenly, he was standing in the living room of their old house with Dean at his back, barely holding it together, his eyes full of tears.
"What?" John growled, slowly looking up at Sam.
"I'm going to Stanford." Sam straightened his back and looked down at his dad.
"So you're just going to leave us?" he asked, and Sam didn't have to heart to look at Dean as he coughed and left the room.
"This isn't for me, this life! I don't want to do this!"
"This is the family business!" John slammed his hands down on the table and pushed up, knocking papers and books onto the floor. "What about your mom?"
Sam stared at John. Everything in his life was for a woman that he only remembered through Dean's memories and through his father's desire to enact revenge. "I don't remember Mom!" Sam finally spit out and turned back toward his bedroom.
"If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back," John shot back as he slammed his door.
He knew Dean was at the door, but he didn't have the energy to look up at him. He was tired of fighting the urge, of hiding his reaction to his brother's nearness. He was tired of pretending not to love his brother.
"Please, Sammy," Dean whispered, and Sam looked up at him, his heart breaking as a tear dropped from Dean's down turned face.
"I-" Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair, "I can't do this anymore."
"Fine, you don't have to go on the hunts," Dean offered, and Sam realized just how far off base his brother was.
He gave a single bark of laughter. "It's not the hunts, Dean."
"Then what is it?" Dean asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking so much younger than his 22 years.
"Nothing, Dean. I just can't do this anymore." He finished packing his suitcase and turned to Dean. "I'm sorry."
Dean stared at him, as if he was trying to remember everything about him. His green eyes stayed on his face for the longest time before he turned and left the room, his bedroom door slamming a moment later.
His dreams changed again. The room seemed to melt away from him, and it took him a second to realize it was the room he was in now. He looked at the bed, seeing them on the bed as if he was having an out-of-body experience. His eyes fell to Dean, and he was crying again, the sound ripping at his heart. Dean moved, pressing his head on Sam's shoulder. Dean spoke so softly it was nearly impossible for him to understand what he said, but Sam knew as Dean pressed his lips to his shoulder.
"I love you, Sammy, so much." It echoed in his head, the sound never fading but seeming to grow louder until thunder crashed through the space.
Sam's eyes snapped open again, the sound of thunder still echoing, and he exhaled loudly. "Shit, Sam, get yourself together," he whispered to himself, attempting to slow his breath.
He felt more he heard Dean's sob. "Dean?" Sam rolled onto his back, watching his brother for a moment before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. The whole bed was vibrating from Dean's tears, and it was more than he could take. He moved onto his side, facing Dean.
"Sammy, you can't die on me." Dean's voice was quiet but pleading, and Sam knew he was having a dream.
"Dean," Sam called, shaking Dean's shoulder, and it only seemed to make it worse.
"No!" Dean struggled against his arm. "I'm not leaving him!" he yelled, and Sam knew he had to stop this as Dean fought some unseen force.
"Dean!" Sam's arms locked around Dean's waist, his arms trapped beneath Sam's. "Wake up. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." The words spoken into his ear seemed to calm Dean, his body slowly relaxing against Sam's. "I'm here," Sam whispered over and over again.
A whimper, far from pain, fell from Dean's lips, and Sam felt his entire body tense as Dean's hips rocked back into his.
"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice breaking against his want.
"Sammy," Dean whispered again with a sigh in his voice, and Sam bit back a groan as Dean's ass rubbed against his suddenly-aching cock.
Sam released Dean slowly, letting him roll onto his back with Sam's arm still behind his head. His gaze fell on his brother's face, and he watched as Dean's eyes opened.
"Sammy?" Dean called, eyes blinking once, twice, and Sam nodded, smiling.
"I'm here," he finally forced out, and he knew the instant Dean realized how and where he was laying. Sam prepared for Dean's reaction, closing his eyes, unwilling to see the disgust flash across his face.
What he didn't expect was the press of Dean's lips against his, soft - oh god, so soft - yet demanding. It only took him a second before he groaned and opened his mouth, welcoming Dean's tongue into his mouth.
Dean growled, his entire body tightening in Sam's arms as Sam kissed him back, tangling his tongue with his. Sam groaned as Dean pulled his hair, the pain only pushing him deeper.
With a gasp, they pulled apart, breath coming in gasps.
"What- I mean- I-"
Sam chuckled against Dean's lips. "Shh, just shut up."
"But-" Dean started again but groaned, his fingers tightening again, as Sam bit along his jaw toward his ear while his hand pushed down Dean's chest toward his cock.
"I said shut up," Sam growled in his Dean's ear, "Do you want this?" He wrapped his hand around Dean's cock.
Dean whimpered, his hips rocking up against his brother's hand. "Fuck yes," he hissed.
"Then shut the fuck up," Sam commanded, moving to lay between Dean's outstretched legs and rocking his bare cock against Dean's boxers-covered one.
Dean's head rocked back against the pillow, Sam's name nothing more than a moan as he bit down his neck.
Sam was speechless, his body taking over when his mind shorted out at the thought of having his brother. He kissed down Dean's chest, stopping to lave both nipples and give each equal attention. He rested his weight on his hands along Dean's sides as he kissed down his body, reveling in a ticklish spot just above his navel.
"Sam," Dean growled as he suckles the spot once more, Dean's entire body shaking beneath him.
"Sorry," Sam shot back with a chuckle, making a mental note about the spot. He moved past his belly button to the dark strip of hair diving beneath the tented fabric of Dean's boxers.
Sam slowly licked his way down Dean's happy trail, pausing only to look up at Dean as he slid his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers. He watched as Dean slowly lifted his head. The look in his eyes - pupils blown wide with desire, what green of his eyes he could see dark - was enough encouragement for Sam.
Sam threw the offending material over his shoulder, not caring where it landed because his brother's body was finally open to him. He pressed his lips to the taunt skin of Dean's hip, sucking on it, leaving his mark.
Sam's cock twitched, aching painfully as Dean's back arched and his hands slid back underneath the pillow to the headboard above him.
Sam watched his brother through his lashes as licked a line up Dean's shaft, and the moan that fell from his lips would forever be burned in his memory. It shoved him over the edge of his control, and he wrapped his hand around Dean's cock and dropped his mouth.
"God damn!" Dean's voice broke, his fingers lacing through Sam's hair. Sam hollowed his cheeks as he pulled up before licking along the slit then dropping his head again. "Sammy," Dean moaned over and over again, and it drove Sam insane with want to hear what he would do while he fucked him.
With one last pull, he lifted his head from his brother's body and kissed the mark he'd left just a moment before. When Dean moaned, Sam chuckled. "Patience," he whispered as he stroked his brother one more time before climbing from the bed. It took him only a second to find his tube of lotion in the depth of his bag, and he was back on the bed between Dean's now bent legs.
He leaned over Dean's body, kissing him and needing to ask again, knowing there could be no going back from this. "Are you sure?" he whispered against Dean's lips, trying to ignore the way Dean's soft flesh moved beneath his, the way his hands slid up his sides, and the way Dean's legs felt along his hips.
The blunt tips of Dean's fingers dug into Sam's sides, and his cock brushed up into Sam's. "Please, Sammy." The whisper was heated, the ache obvious in his older brother's voice.
Sam nodded once and dropped his lips back to Dean's, forcing his tongue into his mouth and taking control of the kiss, devouring him. Sam swallowed Dean's moans, each only adding to his own desire.
Slowly, he kissed down his chest, chuckling as Dean growled when he stopped to lavish the ticklish spot once again with his tongue.
Sam pushed up onto his knees to kneel between his still-bent legs. He wanted to tell Dean just how hot he looked, but he knew better, knew exactly what he would do or say, so Dean's voice was a shock to him. "Like what you see?" The smoky voice cracked, adding to the sexiness, and Sam grinned.
"Yeah." It was the understatement of the year, but for the moment, it worked.
"Well, get on with it before I'm old."
Sam growled at Dean's words and grabbed his brother's waist, puling him closer to him and pushing his legs back toward to his chest.
"You asked for it," Sam muttered as he flipped open the cap of the lotion in his hand and squirted some onto his fingers. It wasn't the best, but he knew neither of them had lube, and it was better than spit. He rubbed the thickness on his fingers, warming it and coating the digits well before he lowered his hand and ran the tip against Dean. He felt Dean tense against him, and he rested his hand on Dean's lower stomach. "It's okay," he whispered softly, "It gets better."
Dean blinked up at him at his words, and Sam smiled softly before slowly pressing his finger into him. His eyes returned to Dean's body as he pushed his finger into him further, groaning as his brother tightened around him. Sam continued to work on Dean, thrusting his finger until his hips were pushing back against him. Sam smirked down at Dean as he added another finger, crooking his fingers to find his prostate.
Sam's cock ached as Dean moaned loudly, his back arching off the bed for a moment. "Fuck yes." Dean's gravely voice filled the room for a moment. Sam pushed harder, faster, scissoring his fingers and opening his brother up, knowing he was so much more than three fingers.
Sam pulled his fingers from Dean, earning a whimpered protest from him. "I'm coming back, just hang on," Sam replied, rubbing the inside of Dean's leg as he added more lotion to his fingers. He watched Dean's face as he pushed two fingers in once, twice before adding a third. He slowed as Dean's face scrunched up in pain, his lip held between his teeth. "Let go," Sam whispered, massaging Dean's leg, "You gotta relax." Dean's body was a tense line, and he knew if he didn't relax, this wouldn't be nearly as pleasant as it could be.
He never took his eyes from Dean's green ones as they opened and stared up at him. Sam could feel his brother's deep breaths, his entire body moving with the struggle to relax. Sam moved his hand to the skin above Dean's navel, running his nails over the skin, down to his rock hard cock. He wrapped his hand around his brother's cock, stroking it slowly. "Come on, baby, relax."
Something in Sam's voice finally seemed to get through to Dean, his entire body relaxing and the nervousness falling away from the lines around his eyes, and Sam felt the last of his own nerves dissolve.
Sam pulled from his brother's body, pushing back in slowly and rubbing against Dean's prostate again, and it was all Dean needed to come undone. "Fucking hell, Sammy!" He ground down on Sam's fingers, and it took all of Sam's willpower to not come already. The site of his brother like this was more than he could ever imagine. It was better than every fantasy he'd ever had tenfold.
Sam finally pulled from Dean's body after working him longer than he had to, determined to make it as good as he could. He grabbed the lotion and stroked his cock with it, the coldness not curbing his desire at all.
"Come on, Sammy," Dean whispered, reaching out to Sam and pulling at his sides.
Sam nodded, moving to lean over Dean, his weight resting on his hand above Dean's shoulder. "Wrap your legs around me," he ordered. Dean looked up at him for a moment, but just a second later, he moved, and Sam couldn't hold back the sigh as he felt his brother's heavy legs resting against his ass.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked, knowing that he couldn't come back from this. He'd wanted this too much for too long to be able to pretend it didn't happen.
"God damn it, Sammy. You're such a girl," Dean growled, pulling him down to his lips to kiss Sam roughly. "Fuck me now," he muttered against Sam's lips, and it was all Sam needed to hear.
He reached around Dean's leg, grabbing his own cock by the base and tilting his hips just right, pushing into Dean's body. Both of them groaned, and the pain -filled sigh that escaped Dean was so soft that Sam wasn't sure he actually heard it until he took in his brother's face. His lip was back between his teeth, and his eyes screwed shut, "Come on, baby." He kissed along Dean's shoulder. "Let me in. I'll make it good," he promised against his ear, nipping the skin there. Once again, he felt Dean relax beneath him, and he pushed in further.
Sam's own eyes slammed shut as he bottomed out in Dean, his balls resting against his ass. This was too much. Just too god damn much. The sound of Dean moaning beneath him, whispered pleas for Sam to move, the heat of Dean's body wrapped so tightly around his cock, and his legs shaking at his sides pushed him faster and faster to the end he wasn't ready for yet. "Stop moving," he growled against Dean's neck, nipping the skin a second later.
"Please, Sammy," Dean whispered, and Sam wasn't even sure he was aware that he said anything.
He pushed against Dean, holding him tighter against his body and effectively stilling his movements. Just one more second and he'd be unable to deny himself the feeling of moving within his brother.
Sam slowly pulled back, and Dean groaned, his head rocking back against the pillows again. "Fucking finally."
Sam couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the relieved sound of his brother's voice. Sam pushed back into Dean, rotating his hips until he hit Dean's prostate before pulling back out instantly only to return a second later.
"Fuck!" Dean hissed, his entire body arching up as Sam hit his spot again. Sam's control was ripped way as Dean's nails dug into his sides. His hips snapped up against Dean's, their bodies coming together sharply. "Fuck yes," Dean chanted, his fingers leaving red welts along Sam's sides, Sam buried his head in Dean's neck, biting and sucking the skin, leaving his own marks.
His brother's movements beneath him, his hips rising to each of his thrusts, pulled Sam far too fast down to his end, and before he knew it, before he could slow, he felt the tightness in his gut, the all-too-familiar burn, and he pushed up, wrapping his hand around Dean's cock. "Come on, baby," he grunted, stroking his brother hard and fast, needing to see and feel him shatter before he exploded inside him. "Come for me," he forced out, his teeth gritted tight, holding off his own release as long as he could.
Dean gasped with each of Sam's strokes, his body seemingly unable to decide which way he wanted to go - closer to Sam's hand or deeper onto Sam's cock. Sam knew the instant before Dean came as his body tensed for just a moment then he moaned something that sounded like Sam's name, and Sam couldn't stop watching as his brother's cock painted his own chest with hot, white come, the color a stark difference against his tan skin.
A second later, Sam came, his eyes screwing shut as the pleasure washed over him, stealing his breath. His heart came to a stop only to race a moment later. He heard someone moaning Dean's name, and it was only after that he realized it was his own pleasure-strained voice.
He lost all control of his arms, and he fell against Dean, receiving a grunt from the older man. He knew he needed to move, worried he was crushing him, but that was going to take more energy than he had.
"Off!" Dean muttered with a hard slap to his side, and Sam pulled from him with a hiss. Sam rolled to his side, and drew Dean to him, kissing him slowly, needing just a little more time before Dean started to pull away, inevitably bitching at him 'cause he was a girl who wanted to snuggle.
What he didn't expect was for Dean to pull from his lips and tuck himself under Sam's chin. "Dean?" he couldn't help but ask.
"You ever tell a soul, and I'll kill you in your sleep." His muttered reply made Sam laugh, wrapping his arms around his brother and relishing in the moment.
"Never tell a soul."
"Good," Dean replied automatically before moving his head back a little. "You've done this before."
It wasn't a question, but Sam felt like it needed to be explained nonetheless. He nodded slowly. "A few times when I got to Stanford," he whispered, "Had to see what it was."
"What what was?" Dean asked, his brows drawn together.
"If it was you or if I was really gay."
Dean made a surprised sound, and Sam couldn't help but look down at him. "So-" he started, pausing to lick his lips, "which was it?"
Sam smiled slowly, lifting his hand to Dean's face and running his thumb across his full bottom lip. "It was you. No one did it for me like you."
Sam reveled in the flare that flashed over Dean's face before he ducked his head back against his chest. It was something that happened so rarely one could say Dean never blushed. Sam chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of Dean's head and chuckled again as Dean made a noise. "Jerk," he muttered against his older brother's hair.
"Bitch," came Dean's sleepy reply a few seconds later.