Dean eased his cock an inch deeper into Sam. "Yeah, Sammy. Take it."
Sam sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "Christ, Dean, you're fucking huge. Why are you so fucking huge?"
Dean couldn't help the smirk curling in the corners of his mouth. "Because somebody up there loves you. Sammy the size queen."
"Less talking. More cock."
"I'm so gonna make that into a t-shirt, Sam."
"Fuck. Me. Now. Or I'll find someone who will."
The smirk disappeared. Even in jest, Dean didn't like the suggestion of Sam letting some other man have what Dean wanted—needed—to be his exclusively. And people thought Dean was possessive of the Impala…
He snapped his hips forward hard, almost cruelly, driving his full length into Sam who shuddered and whispered, "Fuck!"
"Mine. You got me? Mine."
Sam spread his legs wider, digging his nails into the meaty part of Dean's shoulders. "Yours. All yours."
"Say it again." Dean gripped the back of Sam's massive thighs and shoved his knees down against the mattress, splaying Sam completely open, tipping Sam's hips up, letting Dean sink even deeper.
Sam could only make incomprehensible guttural sounds as Dean slammed into him, staking his claim with each fierce thrust.
"Say it," Dean growled into Sam's ear, and bit down on the flesh between his neck and shoulder. Hard.
"Yours! Just you. Fuck, Dean. Just you. Only ever been you."
"Damn straight." Dean leaned in and sealed his mouth around Sam's, swallowing his cries, feeling them reverberate on his tongue.
He broke away just long enough to take his hands off Sam's thighs, snare the fingers of his right hand in the hair at the base of Sam's neck and tighten until Sam gasped and arched up into the pain.
"Show me. Show me how much you love this."
Sam groaned. Reaching for his knees, he pulled them back, all the way back, opening himself shamelessly for his brother.
"God, Dean. So much. Love it. Love what you do to me. Anything you want to do to me."
Dean felt a surge of pleasure shoot through him. He loved it when he made Sam just fucking lose control like this. Still gripping Sam's hair, grinding his hips in slow circles, he licked into Sam's mouth, and Sam sucked on his tongue like it was Dean's cock.
After a moment, Dean pulled off, gripped Sam's jaw with one hand, looked him straight in the eye. "Anything?"
Sam didn't hesitate. Not for a split second. Just like when Death had made Dean choose which brother to save and he said "Sam" before Death had even finished speaking.
Sam's eyes were wide, locked onto Dean's. He licked his lip. "Anything. Everything. Please."
Too much. It was too much. All he'd ever wanted was Sam, and here was Sam, his beautiful, whip-smart brother splayed open beneath him, taking him, taking it all, begging for more, begging for Dean.
He wrapped both hands around Sam's face, kissed him, drove even deeper inside him. Sam whispered, "Everything. Forever. For you."
The love and desire and pleasure and pure soul-deep need crashed over Dean, poured through him in the most devastating orgasm he'd ever felt. Sam felt like he was shaking to pieces beneath him, chanting Dean's name as he came, as he did, as he always did, as if it was impossible for him to come without the shape of Dean's name in his mouth, the sound of Dean's name on the air.
Sometimes time loses itself. Minutes and hours dissolve into each other. Sam and Dean breathed together, still joined, for minutes or hours.
And when Dean stirred, pulled out and fell in a heap at Sam's side, he couldn't speak for a long moment. Sam just watched Dean breathe, his face lit up in a way that only Dean would ever get to see. Lit up that way because of him.
It was only truly holy thing Dean had ever known.