What He Wants and Can Never Have (part 4 of 4), Supernatural, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: What He Wants and Can Never Have (Part Four) First Part, Part Two, Part Three
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Bobby, mentions of Jess, Mary
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000 (in total)
Summary: AU off of "What is And Should Never Be" - Sam comes to rescue Dean from the djinn, only he gets caught himself. The wish he makes changes everything.

A/Ns & Warnings; Written for wincestaholic who paid a ridiculous sum of money for me during the special Sweet Charity to benefit the WGA Foundation. This will be posted in four to five parts over the next four or five days or until finished (as I'm still tweaking and finishing). I was going to wait until tomorrow...but decided I didn't want to. So you get it now!




It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sam knew it. Knew it as sure as he knew every single freckle, every scar on his brother’s skin. As sure as he knew every sigh, every expression, every move his brother made.

He kept his eyes closed. He kept his arms around Dean’s sleeping body, holding on to what he knew he had no right to want. What he had no right to own. What he had no business holding on to.

Very soon he knew he would have to leave this warm bed, leave the feeling of Dean in his arms. Forever.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was sleep-drunk, slurry and heavy. His hand was hot against Sam’s pulling it over Dean’s hip and dipping down under the blanket to where his cock was just as hot, hard and thick. Dean wiggled his ass back at Sam, pressing against Sam’s own erection, making Sam moan. “Slut.”

Sam pressed kisses into the back of Dean’s neck, letting him curl Sam’s fingers around his cock. Sam pulled along its length slowly. He breathed in the warm smell of Dean as Dean moved enough that Sam’s cock was sliding through his crack, up to the hole that was still loose and lubed from the sex only hours before, when they’d come in from the cold and fell together, food forgotten on the night stand in the frantic pull and slide of bodies

He hadn’t slept. He’d held his brother and fought himself. Fought the truth. If he slept the dreams would come again. Sam knew what he had to do. He was almost ready to do it…he just needed a little more time.

He moved so his cock slid home and he sighed into Dean’s skin. “Love how this feels,” he whispered. He rocked them together, a tender counterpoint to the frantic fucking of before. This was the last time he’d have this. He wanted to remember it…wanted it to last. Dean was sleepy enough he didn’t protest, his head laying back on Sam’s shoulder, his eyes closed.

He pulled his hand down Dean’s cock…Dean pressed back, taking Sam’s cock deeper into him. “Dean…” Dean’s body moved with his, and for the moment Sam forgot to breathe…forgot to think…there was just him and Dean and nothing mattered. Nothing. Just this.

Dean groaned as Sam’s come flooded him. Sam bit into Dean’s shoulder, licked the spot and kissed his way up his brother’s neck. Dean’s orgasm spilled into Sam’s hand, hot and sticky. Dean lolled back against him, his body warm and pliant.

“Mmmm…Sammy…” He leaned back, his mouth searching for Sam’s, open and wet. Sam tilted his face, caught Dean’s mouth with his own, tongues tangling, even as he stared into the corner where the ghostly Dean was staring at him.

“Shhh….sleep Dean.” Sam whispered, soothing Dean back to his side and moving so his cock slipped free. “Middle of the night.” Dean’s eyes closed and Sam laid back on his side of the bed, staring into the corner.

As Dean drifted back to sleep, Sam stood, moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake his brother. He dressed in the still damp jeans and dug around in his bag for a shirt. His hand fell on the book instead. He set it on the floor and pulled out a t-shirt.

He knew what he had to do. Sort of. He needed to find that warehouse, the djinn. Maybe if he killed it, everything would go back to normal. He looked up at Dean asleep in the bed. Because this, no matter how much he wanted it, just wasn’t right, wasn’t normal.

He crept across the floor and opened Dean’s bag, pulling out the silver-bladed hunting knife his brother had gotten from Bobby years before. He could stop somewhere on the road and get lamb’s blood. He just had to get out the door before Dean realized he was leaving.

Which was easier said than done. The old cabin had squeaky floor boards and a squeaky door and the cold air would fill the room as soon as he opened the door. Sam stopped, his hand on the handle and looked at Dean. “Goodbye.”

He closed the door as quickly as he could and jogged to the car. The rain had let up, but the ground was mushy. He could only hope the Impala would make it down the rutted dirt lane to the road.


He circled the car, checking the tires. When he heard the creak of the Impala’s door, he looked up to find Dean seated behind the wheel. He sighed and opened the passenger side door. Dean held out his hand for the keys.

“What are you doing Dean?” Sam asked, leaning into the car.

“Driving. Give me the keys.”

“Where are we going?” Sam asked, trying to play it off.

“Obviously, you’re not going to get this genie thing out of your head until we go hunt it, and I’m not letting you leave my ass stranded out here in the middle of god-forsaken nowhere. Give me the keys and get in the car.”

Sam didn’t even try to argue or lie, just slid into the seat and handed over the keys. Dean brought the engine roaring to life and backed them up enough to turn them around.

They were both quiet for a long time as they headed back toward the nearest town. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Dean asked finally as they neared the point of having to make a turn.

“Illinois.” Sam said softly. “It was in Illinois.”

Dean nodded and got them headed out on a back country road aiming in roughly the right direction.

“Did you sleep?” Dean asked after a while.

“Not really. Dreams…” Sam shook his head. “I keep seeing…you.”

“Me?” Dean frowned at him, the turned his eyes back to the road. The headlights cut through the dark, but there was nothing in front of them but empty road.

“You…and you look worse every time. Like…you’re fading away.”

Dean pressed his lips together. “This…me…it’s the me in your other world? The one where you and I don’t…” His hands came off the wheel and fluttered around.

“What? Fuck?”

Again with the dirty look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, Dean. I think that’s exactly who he is.”

“And you want to go back to him?” There was hurt in his voice.

Sam couldn’t look at him. He wanted to say no…that he wanted to stay…to have this…but he was afraid if he did, Dean would stop the car…and the next time he saw ghost Dean…he’d be dead.

“It isn’t that simple.” He finally managed, staring out the window at the dark world flying by them.

“It could be.” Dean’s hand settled on Sam’s thigh. “You could be making more of this than you need to.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “Maybe.”

Dean’s hand squeezed against his thigh. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

Sam closed his eyes, not sure that he could promise him anything. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll, that if we get there…and you’re right…” Dean looked at him, longing in his eyes. “Promise me that you’ll consider…” He didn’t have to finish. Sam understood.

He took Dean’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “I will.”

“Now, get some sleep. I don’t want to be hunting with some half-asleep zombie boy.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, or the way he kept Dean’s hand in his as he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.



The warehouse looked the same as they pulled up. The rain was letting up. Dean parked the car and turned off the lights. “Now what?”

Sam pulled the carton of lamb’s blood from the bag. The butcher at the all-night grocery had looked at them like they were Satanists or something out of a bad horror flick, but they’d gotten what they needed.

He peeled the top off and lifted the knife off the seat.

“That’s supposed to kill it? The djinn?”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “That’s what I remember. Silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.”

Dean leaned forward and looked out the windshield at the building. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“It’s plenty, trust me.” Sam opened his door. Dean followed, squinting at Sam before shutting his door. “What?”

He could tell by the look that Dean had more to say.

“It…just doesn’t sit right Sam.”

Sam moved around the car, holding the knife in his hand. “What?”

“This. This whole damn thing. You say you wished for this. That you want me. So what if it’s because some djinn granted you the wish? This is real. This, you…me…what we have.”

Sam shook his head. “I…I really don’t think it is, Dean.”

Dean made a face and turned away. “Let’s do this.” He trudged through a puddle and into the building, with Sam following along behind him.

It all looked the same. Rats scurried away and Dean’s flashlight moved over broken office furniture and a beat up type writer. “Don’t see anything, Sam.”

“Quiet. It’ll hear you.” He pointed Dean around the corner. Dean stepped carefully over broken glass. Sam didn’t remember broken glass. He looked around them, watching for the djinn. It had taken him by surprise before.

Suddenly, Dean stopped in front of him. Sam nearly stabbed him trying to stop too. “Dean…” Sam’s voice trailed off as he ducked around his brother and realized why he’d stopped. Dean was staring at himself…at a mirror image…only the other Dean was hanging from bound wrists and looking like he was just this side of death.

“Now that is freaky.” Dean muttered. Sam shifted, looking at Dean. “Don’t you think that’s freaky, Sam?”

“Yeah Dean.” It went way beyond freaky. It meant he was right. The question was, how did he fix it. Or maybe the question was, did he really want to?

“Got to admit, at this point? I’m way better looking.” Dean said, turning to Sam with a smirk. “No offense,” he tossed aside to himself.

“I guess this is where I make a choice.” Sam said softly. He closed his eyes. Truth was, he wanted to stay so bad it made his stomach sick. Truth was, that was probably how he knew he really shouldn’t…couldn’t stay.

Dean’s hand was on his face, cupping to his cheek. Sam opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t. Dean was there…right there, his green eyes filled with hope, his lips wet as he licked them. “Kiss me.” Dean whispered, his voice hypnotizing. Sam’s lips parted, met Dean’s.

Sam tasted coffee and salt and Dean, groaning as Dean breathed into him, drew him closer. Dean’s arms circled around him, holding their bodies close. “Stay with me, Sammy…”

“He needs me.” Sam whispered.

Dean’s lips were on his ear. “I need you.”

“I have to do the right thing.” Sam tried to pull back, but Dean wasn’t done.

“Why, Sam? Ask yourself why us? Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven’t we given enough?” He looked up at Sam, tears in his eyes. “Don’t we deserve to be happy?”

Sam blinked at his own tears, then at the absence of the second Dean. “Where’d he go?”

Dean let go of him and turned. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Sam shook his head. “No…he was there.”

“And now he isn’t. It’s just me.” Dean reached for his hand, but Sam pulled away. “Sam…we can go…we can go somewhere, anywhere, just the two of us…I’m begging you Sam.”

Sam held up his hand. He could hear something. Like voices. Nearby. Familiar.

“Don’t leave me Sammy.” Dean’s face was…shattered…devastated.

Sam held out his hand. “I will always love you, want you. This won’t change that.” Sam said.

“You will always be a girl, Sam.”

“Sam!”

He felt something hit him.

“Sam!”

Dean backed away and Sam called out to him, his hand reaching out. “Not yet.”

“Sam! Damn it, wake the hell up!”

A fist slammed into his face and his eyes watered. When he got them open again, he was laying on the dirty floor of the warehouse, looking up at his brother and Bobby. He blinked, then reached up to poke Dean.

“Ow!”

Sam rubbed his jaw. “You real?”

“I think so. You?”

Sam sort of shrugged and turned his eyes to Bobby. “What about him?”

“I killed your djinn.” Bobby said dryly, pointing at the slumped over tattooed mass on the nearby stairs.

Sam’s eyes skipped back to Dean. His eyes were sunken and he looked ready to pass out. His lips were dry and cracked. “You okay?”

“Nothing a few pints of blood won’t fix.”

“I’ll get the girl out to the car.” Bobby said, handing Dean a knife.

Dean leaned over Sam and cut at the ropes that bound his wrists together. Sam’s eyes caught on the bruises all around his own wrists, and the angry red, open flesh where the rope had cut deeper.

“Okay, let’s get you up.” Dean tossed the rope aside and helped Sam sit.

His eyes caught on the dried out husks of the ones they didn’t save.

“Can’t save them all.” Dean said softly.

“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered.

“What?”

Sam shook his head. “I tried….I just, I couldn’t tell what was real.”

“Yeah, me either. Don’t sweat it. We both got out.” Dean lurched up to his feet and offered his hand to Sam. “Good thing you called Bobby though, or we’d probably be toast.”

Sam nodded. “You didn’t answer your phone. I figured it was better to have back up.” They shuffled for the door. Sam reached for Dean, and pulled back. He wanted to kiss him. Hold him. Reassure himself that everything was okay.

But this was the real world, and he didn’t get that here. His hand fell back to his side and they stumbled out into an early morning. Bobby had the girl in his back seat and was climbing in to drive her to the nearest hospital.

“Catch you boys back at your motel.”

Sam waved and sighed. “You okay?” Dean asked and Sam could only nod. He got in the car and Dean drove them away. Sam watched the warehouse disappear behind them, and with it the dream world where Dean wanted him the way he’d wanted Dean his whole life.



“The girl’s going to be okay.” Sam said after hanging up the phone. “Bobby says they’ve got her stabilized, and her family is there.”

“Good.” Dean was on the end of the bed, staring at a picture in a magazine. Sam crossed to him, sat on the other bed.

“What about you? You all right?”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He set the magazine aside and swiped a hand over his face. He sighed heavily. “You should have seen it, Sam. Our lives…”

“I think…I think I may did.” Sam said, making his own uncomfortable face. “I dreamed…when I was sleeping…inside…I saw Jess…and Mom…”

Dean nodded, a brief smile flickering over his face. “You were such a wussy.”

Sam chuckled, though his heart was ripping. “But you and me…we didn’t get along?”

Dean shook his head. “Not so much.”

Sam sighed. “I thought it was supposed to be…like this perfect fantasy.”

Dean looked at him, then away. “It wasn’t…it’s just one wish right? I wished Mom was alive. Mom didn’t die, we never hunted. You and I…we just never…”

Sam swallowed the urge to reach across the space separating them and kiss him, hold him until the hurt left his eyes. “I’m glad we do.” Sam said softly. “Glad you were strong enough to pull yourself out. Most people wouldn’t have had the strength.” He wasn’t sure he would have…not by himself. “Most people would have just stayed.”

If Dean hadn’t been there, hitting him…because the Dean in his wish-world wanted him…and Sam wanted him too.

“Yeah, lucky me.” Dean said. He stood, moved across the room. “You were happy though. You had Jess. Mom was going to have grandkids.” Dean sniffed and scuffed a toe on the carpet.

“Yeah, but Dean…it wasn’t real.” He said it half for himself. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

“No…but I wanted to stay.” He looked at Sam, and Sam could see the longing, the pain. He wanted to look away so Dean wouldn’t see the echo in his own eyes…wouldn’t wonder what Sam had left behind. Dean looked at the floor. “I wanted to stay so bad…I mean…ever since Dad...” Dean’s voice trailed off.

Sam nodded and stood. “I know. I did too.” He put his hands in his pockets to keep from touching his brother.

“I keep thinking that this job has cost us so much.” Dean’s voice was laced with pain. His face was pale and he looked exhausted, like everything they’d been through in the year since their father died was hanging on him at once. “We’ve sacrificed so much.”

Sam knew it was his turn to tell Dean how it was worth it…that the job, the lives they saved was worth the sacrifice, but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. He sighed and nodded. “You have to wonder if it’s worth it sometimes.” He sighed. “When is it our turn to be happy?”

It was quiet for a long moment, then Dean sniffed and squinted in his direction. “You haven’t told me what yours was like.”

“Not important.” Sam muttered.

“What did you wish for?”

Sam turned away. “I-I wished that….that the yellow eyed demon was gone…but…it was all fucked up.”

He felt Dean cross the room. Felt his brother behind him. “Sam?”

He pushed away the tears, the pain. “I shot him. With the colt.”

Dean’s hand was on his shoulder. It was hot and Sam wanted to lean against Dean. “I killed him, Dean. I killed Dad.” He pulled away. “I shot him when the demon was in him. We…the car never crashed, you never had to hear from him that I might…that you might have to…” His voice trailed off. “We were happy. The two of us, hunting together. “

He needed to stop talking. Before he said something he’d regret. This Dean didn’t want to know about Sam’s perverted feelings, would run the other way if he ever found out. Sam didn’t think he could live with that.

He drew in a deep breath. “You…I kept seeing you though…wasting away. Made me realize I couldn’t stay. And then I heard you calling me…and the other you…the one in my dream, he was begging me to stay. Then you hit me.” Sam rubbed his jaw and smiled softly. “Pulled me out.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, right?” Dean asked, crossing to the window with a frown on his face.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Another cop car. I’m thinking we should hit the road soon.” He watched silently out the window. “Like now. You up for moving?” Dean dropped the curtain and looked at Sam who nodded.

“If you think you can drive.”

“Call Bobby. Tell him we’ll catch him in a week or so.”

Dean set about packing them up. Sam got their stuff from the bathroom. His head hurt. His body ached with wanting. He tamped it down. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Having tasted…having had what he wanted, trying to pretend he didn’t want it anymore was going to make him crazy.

Dean threw their stuff in the car while Sam called Bobby back and relayed the message. They needed to do something to get the cops off their backs. Sam slipped into the car and closed his eyes. Neither of them had slept since…well, since waking up. They would both need to soon, but Sam understood Dean’s need to move.

“Where to?” Sam asked as Dean got behind the wheel.

“Coffee first.” Dean responded. “Then I figured we could go check out that haunting Ellen called about.”

Sam nodded. A job was good. It would help him focus.




Dean’s lips moved over skin as he exposed it, slowly pulling the sheets down, kissing over Sam’s shoulder and down his collar bone, onto his chest. Sam groaned and reached for him, but Dean batted his hands away. “Don’t make me tie you up.” Dean growled, his words wet with desire.

“Dean…please…”

“Told you, my turn….” His tongue joined his lips. Sam was hard and trapped under the sheet and Dean’s body. Dean’s tongue explored through Sam’s navel and Sam arched up, making Dean grin. “Like that Sammy?”

Sam moaned and reached for him again. “Dean.”

The car door slammed and Sam jerked up, hitting his head on the roof. “Morning sunshine.” Dean said, holding out a cup of coffee. “Nice dream?”

Dean was staring pointedly at Sam’s crotch and in dismay Sam realized he was hard. He shifted and dropped a hand to hide it. “Don’t remember.”

“Liar.” Dean said with a smirk. “Who was it this time?”

“No one.” Sam grumbled. If he’d done more than groan…if he’d said Dean’s name…

“Didn’t sound like no one.” Dean started the car. “Maybe next time I won’t wake you up. I’ll just listen.”

Sam slouched in the passenger seat and cradled his coffee in his hands. The knot of panic slowly loosened in his stomach. Dean really didn’t know. Sam drank down his coffee, determined now that he wouldn’t sleep.

If he didn’t sleep, he couldn’t dream.

No dreams, no dreams about Dean and sex.

And Dean would never know.



Sam banged into the room ahead of Dean and slammed into the bathroom. He started the shower and stripped. His cock was dark red and aching. It hadn’t really gone down since the dream, staying semi-hard as they’d driven and found the site for the haunting.

Every time he turned around Dean was right there, right there, and every sight of his ass, his hands, his neck had Sam fighting down his arousal.

Dean pounded on the door as Sam climbed into the shower.

“Sam?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Sam called, letting the water spill over his back while he wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled. He just needed to deal with it. Accept it, jack off and move on.

He closed his eyes, remembering the way Dean touched him…a combination of gentleness and roughness…teeth and tongue…gripping Sam’s wrists tightly, but kissing him softly.

Sam braced himself against the wall and leaned in, imagining it was Dean’s hand…Dean’s mouth…He groaned, then remembered Dean in the other room. He bit his lip then and stroked harder. He added a little twist at the tip as he got close and his lip slipped from his teeth as his orgasm started. “Dean.”

He froze, not even sure he’d said it out loud. He panted as he came and tried to listen for his brother. The water washed away the evidence and his cock mostly softened in his hand. He got out of the shower and dried off, pulling his jeans back on and padding out of the bathroom.

Dean was on the bed, earphones in, listening to whatever mullet rock he’d found on local radio. Sam sighed in relief, figuring he was safe. He threw himself on the bed with the file Ellen had given them.

Easy enough hunt. As hunts go. Simple ghost.

Simple.

He sighed. Nothing in their lives was ever simple. He felt Dean’s eyes and looked up. Dean looked away.

The other Dean had told him he didn’t care about how wrong it was to want his brother, to want to kiss and touch and fuck his brother. That wrong just didn’t apply to them. The other Dean had wanted Sam, the Sam way Sam had always wanted Dean.

But the real Dean…his Dean…he didn’t want Sam. In his perfect world, Sam was with Jessica. Engaged even. In Dean’s dream, Sam had been happy with Jessica, hadn’t looked at Dean with longing.

His Dean would care that it was wrong. His Dean had a mandate from their father to take care of Sam. Not just the one that came the night their mother died, but a second one the day that their father died.

To take care of Sam, even if that meant killing him.

His head hurt. Again. It was starting to feel like it did when…He reached for his head as it came, images racing through him so fast he couldn’t focus on them…faces, dirt, yellow eyes. He gasped and sat up, cradling his head in his hands.

Dean was there instantly, hands on Sam’s shoulder, his concerned eyes catching on Sam’s.

Sam nodded and dragged in air. “I’m okay.”

“What was it?”

Sam shook his head lightly. “I don’t…just…flashes.” Suddenly one of the faces came clear of the tangled mess. “Andy.”

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “Stoner? What about him?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t see much.”

Dean backed off a step. “The whole vision thing is getting awfully annoying Sam. I mean first it doesn’t even give us enough warning to do anything to save people, and now it’s not even enough to figure out what’s going on…”

“I’ll call Andy.” Sam said, standing and reaching for his phone. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“Right, because you always have random visions of nothing.” Dean said.

Sam sighed and looked at him. “What do you want from me Dean?”

Dean’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he responded. “I want you to stop lying to me, Sam.”

Sam stopped with his hand on the door to the room. “Why would I lie to you?” He looked at Dean.

Dean wouldn’t look at him. He was staring at the bed, like he expected it to move. “I don’t know. But I haven’t said anything. I’ve waited and I’ve waited Sam. I know you’re hiding something. And…I just want you to admit it.”

Sam held his breath. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Dean’s face was set, angry. He nodded tightly. “Right.”

“Dean—“

Dean held up his hand. “I’m not stupid Sam. Something is bothering you. Something’s been bothering you…at first I figured it was just you and Dad, right? So you went to school. Then, I chalked it up to you losing Jessica. And I got that. I really did. Then there was Dad, and I just kept waiting for you to get over it. But you don’t.”

Dean flashed his eyes at Sam. “I can’t help you Sam. Not unless I know what’s going on.”

That, at least, was something Sam could latch onto. “Maybe it’s time you stopped being my guardian then Dean.” He said it quietly in the silence that followed Dean’s words. “Maybe it’s time we take care of ourselves a little bit.”

Dean sat slowly on the bed. “You must hate me.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. “What?” He was sure he had to have heard him wrong.

“It wasn’t Dad that drove you away, was it?” Dean kept his back to Sam, stared at the floor.

Sam moved closer. He had no idea where this had come from. “Honestly? No.” Sam closed his eyes. His body was tense, his breathing coming in short gasps.

“It was me.” It wasn’t a question. “And I dragged you back.”

Sam couldn’t believe where this whole thing was headed. “I don’t hate you.” He had to end this. Had to get them back on safer ground. “You’re my brother.”

Dean nodded and sighed. “My brother. And I make you miserable.” He stood. “Go on. Call Andy. I’m gonna shower.”

Sam stared at him as he disappeared into the bathroom and tried to figure out how the conversation had turned…how Dean had come to the conclusion that Sam hated him. He blew out and looked at his phone.

He could call Andy in the morning. What he needed right that moment was a drink and time away from Dean.



Sam crawled back two hours later, smelling of cheap whiskey and the blonde who had fallen all over him, and bought him booze until he’d followed her into the alley. It wasn’t like him…but he had to go back to Dean, and he couldn’t face him…and she was warm and knew what to do with her mouth.

If Dean heard him come in, he didn’t say a word, just kept on pretending to be asleep…which was fine with Sam. He’d sleep, and in the morning they would figure out the damn ghost and…he wasn’t sure what would come after that.

He fell into bed, not even bothering to undress.

He woke with sunlight making his head pound. He felt like shit. Like he’d gotten drunk on cheap alcohol. He lifted his head, squinting in the perfect ray of light that landed perfectly on his face through the curtains. On the nightstand was a bottle of water, a bottle of aspirin and a note.

He reached for the aspirin, downed three and slammed half the bottle of water before he reached for the note.

“Sleep it off. We leave when I get back. Dean.”

So. His brother was still pissed. Sam crashed back to the bed with a moan. Everything was going to hell. Including him.

It was nearly noon. He crawled out of bed. He smelled like cigarettes and sex. He peeled out of his clothes on his way to the bathroom. He just wanted to wash the stink off him and crawl back to bed. Sleep for a month.

It was almost three hours later when Dean finally came back. He didn’t look at Sam as he gathered the few things that had been taken out of bags and such.

“You okay?” Dean asked as he grabbed the aspirin bottle.

Sam nodded, though his head was killing him.

“I called Andy. He’s fine.”

Sam nodded again.

“Called Bobby too. He’s headed home.”

“What about us?” Sam didn’t look up.

“We’re going to head west. Maybe stop by the Roadhouse.”

Sam couldn’t argue. He had no where else to go. He followed Dean to the car. The first few miles were long, silent. Dean didn’t even have the radio on.

It was getting dark before Sam got up the nerve to say anything.

“Dean, can we talk?”

Dean licked his lips. “You going to be honest with me?”

Sam looked out the window. “I…I don’t know if I can.”

“Then I don’t want to talk.” Dean flipped on the radio. Sam nodded and withdrew. Maybe it was better. If Dean thought Sam hated him, he wouldn’t suspect the truth.

“You want me to drive?” Sam asked a few hours later when Dean was yawning.

Dean shook his head. “We’ll stop.” He pointed at a motel. Dean got them a room, and Sam followed him into it, not even looking up. “They were out of doubles.” Dean said when Sam finally stopped, dropping his bag on the bed.

Great. Sam sighed and nodded. “Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

Dean nodded and put his bag on the desk, turning his back to Sam and fumbling with it while Sam tried to decide if he wanted to try talking again. He sighed again and sat on the bed, staring at the carpet.

Suddenly, there was a hand in front of him. A hand with an envelope. He sat back and looked up at Dean. “Take it Sam.”

“What is it?”

“Just take it.”

Sam lifted a hand and took the envelope, still looking at Dean, who moved away quickly once it was gone. Sam opened it, staring uncomprehendingly into the envelope. “Dean?”

He cleared his throat and played with something so he wouldn’t have to look at Sam. “Yeah…I, uh…talked to this woman at Stanford…and…they didn’t hold your spot open, but she says you could re-apply…and with your grades and everything? Maybe not the whole scholarship, but you could…I don’t know…”

Sam stared at the plane ticket. It was a flight out of Denver in two days. “I don’t understand.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “You deserve to be happy, Sam.”

Sam stood slowly. “Are you…you’re kicking me out?”

“What?” Dean turned suddenly, shaking his head. “No. Sam…I want you to be happy.” He held out his arms in a surrendering gesture. “You’re not. And no matter how many things we hunt down and kill, no matter how much you tell me you want to do this…I can’t make you happy. You were happy there. I saw it.” Dean ran a hand over his face. “You were happy with Jessica until I pulled you away. Pulled you back into this shit…and I’m done. I don’t want it anymore.”

Dean turned away again. Sam’s head was spinning. Dean was sending him away. “Dean…I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Dean’s exhale was ragged and shaky. “Sam…I can’t keep doing this with you. I can’t stand the way you can’t stand to be in a room with me, the way you look at me like it’s my fault…I can’t let you keep hating me.”

“God Dean.” Sam licked his lips. “I don’t hate you.” He said it slowly, carefully.

“No? Then what is it?” Dean asked. “You run from me to hide in the bathroom. You leave me and go drink yourself into some whore’s arms. You barely say two words to me in the car. I can feel you staring at me.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never…you’re my brother.”

“You keep saying that Sam. Like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

He was. Trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t want the things he wanted.

He’d never seen Dean so…vulnerable. “I didn’t leave because I hated you.” He closed his eyes, dropped the envelope on the bed. “I’ve never hated you.”

Dean huffed.

“I left…” Sam swallowed. His heart fell into his stomach, twisting into knots. “I left so that you wouldn’t hate me,” he finally said. “You want the truth Dean? You want to know what I’m hiding?”

“What are you saying Sam? Why…how could I possibly hate you?”

“When you know…when I tell you, you’re going to hate me. You’re going to send me away.” He looked back at the envelope. “Maybe…since you are anyway…I mean, what’s it going to hurt, right?”

Big, wet tears fell from his eyes and he sniffed. What did he have to lose? He cleared his throat. “You asked me what I wished for…when the djinn…when it had me.”

Dean was facing him now, looking right at him. “You said it was about the demon.”

“I lied.” Sam heaved a breath, trying to make room in his chest.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was gentle. Sam felt him move closer. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t look at him and say it. “Sam…what did you wish for?”

It took him a few tries to get the word out, and when he did it was little more than a whisper. “You.”

Dean’s hand was on his arm, soft, warm. Sam pulled away. He didn’t want Dean to be caring right now. He dragged air into protesting lungs and turned. “You. I wished…for you.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

Of course he didn’t understand. What the fuck was Sam thinking? This was Dean. Dean Winchester. Who would never, ever even consider…not for one moment. Not with Sam. Probably not with any guy. He was a tits and ass man. Sam huffed and crossed his arms.

“I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.” Sam closed his eyes, breathing through the rising nausea. “I wished…and I woke up…and you were there…in my bed. And you wanted me too. And…it was good Dean…and you…” He licked his lips. “You loved me. Told me that wrong didn’t matter.” Sam knew he should stop. Should just take the plane ticket and beat it the hell out of there before his brother decided to keep his promise to their father. “I can still taste you….when he kissed me…” Sam’s hand brushed his lips. “I knew it wasn’t real…and I didn’t care. You loved me.”

Surely this was a sign of Sam falling to evil…maybe he’d always been evil. “I never meant for you to know. I went to Stanford because I couldn’t hide it anymore…and I tried…I mean…there were…others, you know? But they weren’t you…they could never be you.”

Sam’s face was wet and he ran a hand over his cheeks. The room was quiet. After a long silence, Sam finally dared a look. Dean had his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. Sam wiped his nose on his sleeve and crossed to the bed, grabbing his bag and the envelope. “I’ll just…I can get to Denver on my own.”

He had the door open when Dean’s voice stopped him. “Sam?”

Sam figured Dean would tell him to never come back, to forget he ever had a brother. Figured this was the end.

“Close the door and come sit down.”

Sam did as he was told, not really sure why. He sat gingerly on the end of the bed. Dean pulled a chair over. He didn’t touch Sam. Didn’t really look at him. “I need to understand.”

Sam nodded. “Okay.” He thought he’d explained it fairly well…but he wasn’t being hit yet, and Dean hadn’t exploded.

Dean licked his lips, glanced up at Sam, then back at the floor between them. “So…you’re telling me that the big secret is that you’re gay?”

Sam blinked. Obviously Dean was…in shock. It wasn’t sinking in. “Dean…I…” He sighed heavily. “I’ve never really…did you hear me?”

Dean nodded slowly. “I’m just making sure I understand. You said there were others…I’m assuming you meant guys…because I knew about Jess.”

Sam exhaled. “Yes, there were. Guys I wanted to be you.”

“Before or after you left?”

“What? Both…both.” Dean’s reaction wasn’t making sense to him.

“I’ve never been…you know…with a guy. Well, unless you count that tranny in LA…” Dean pursed his lips and whistled. “Now she had a tongue—“

“Dean.” Sam bit off the anguish as Dean looked up at him.

“Right.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “This is why you’ve been…like this?”

“Well…that and I thought you’d…you know…” Sam looked at him, but he couldn’t figure out why Dean wasn’t pummeling him, or kicking him out the door…”I figured, you’d think I was a freak.”

Dean sort of shrugged. “You’ve always been a freak Sam.”

Dean’s eyes rose…from the floor, to Sam’s eyes. They held. No wavering. Sam could feel his heart pounding at the walls of his chest, his lungs struggling to move the air through him. This was it.

Dean surged across the space separating them and Sam cringed, pulled away, expecting the worst. Dean’s hands didn’t hit him though, they cupped his face, holding him as Dean’s mouth pressed against his…hot, dry.

It was awkward and Sam kept falling backward, pulling Dean with him until Sam was on his back and Dean had one knee on the bed. Sam’s head whited out when he felt his brother’s tongue, sliding along his lip, seeking, testing.

Almost without thinking, Sam’s lips opened and Dean’s tongue tentatively dipped inside before pulling back. Sam didn’t open his eyes, didn’t want to see Dean’s reaction…the horror, disgust.

His hand was moving now, flat against Sam’s chest. “Hey. You okay?”

Sam shook his head. He might never be okay. Not when his brother was laying against him like that. “Look at me.”

Sam blinked. Dean was looking down at him. “Did I do it okay? I mean…I’ve been told I’m good at the kissing.”

Sam lifted a hand to his mouth, touching his tingling lips. “Yeah…it was…you were…”

Dean grinned, clearly enjoying Sam’s confusion. “Figured I had to pop you one or kiss you. Kissing seemed to be the better choice.”

“You…you kissed me.” Sam said, his voice filled with wonder and touched with fear.

“I’m going to do it again too.” Dean warned before he did. Just did. Leaned in and put his lips on Sam’s…and the second time wasn’t quite as awkward, but still as strange and surreal…and damn if he didn’t taste the same…just like before…when it wasn’t real.

Sam shook his head. Maybe this wasn’t real. He pinched Dean’s arm.

“Ow! What?”

“I’m dreaming.” Sam murmured.

“Then why are you pinching me?” Dean asked.

Sam swallowed and looked up at his brother. “I don’t understand.”

Dean moved, straddled over him. “I thought I was being obvious.” He slid against Sam, his denim clad thighs pressing in against Sam’s. Sam’s cock had hardened visibly and he held his breath as Dean looked down at him. “At least parts of you understand.”

“Dean…I—“ Sam pulled himself out from under his brother, up the bed toward the pillows. “Stop.”

“Stop?” Dean sat back and looked at him.

Sam nodded, his head bobbing erratically. This was wrong. Somehow. And his brain was still trying to catch up, even if his body was already there. “Just…I don’t think I can handle it if you…you know…tease me about this.”

“Sam, look at me.”

Sam sniffed and wiped his face, his eyes flicking Dean’s direction tentatively. Dean was pulling off his shirt, tossing it behind him.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked breathlessly.

“I’m getting undressed.” Dean replied. He had his jeans undone and as he started to pull them down, Sam couldn’t help but stare. He’d seen his brother naked before. He’d even seen his brother aroused. But not like this.

When Dean was down to nothing but his socks, he stood, held out his arms. Sam pulled his eyes away. “Dean…” he moaned the name, his hand falling self-consciously to his cock, trying to hide the way it responded to the sight.

Dean grinned and came closer. “Now. Your turn.”

He reached for Sam and after a small struggle, got his zipper open. Sam pushed his hands away. “Dean, god…just…stop.” He exhaled and tried to reconcile the raging lust and the way his head was screaming that this wasn’t real. “I need…I need to…fuck, Dean.”

Dean was lazily stroking his own cock which was fully hard now.

“Not like this.” Sam said.

“Like what?”

Sam swallowed. “You don’t want this. You…you’re—“

Dean stepped closer, his cock in Sam’s face. “Evidence says otherwise Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “No…you’re just….you’re not gay.” He closed his eyes, not even knowing what he was saying.

“Neither are you Sam.” Dean whispered, suddenly right there, his lips on Sam’s ear. “I love you.” His lips moved over Sam’s jaw, even as his hands moved over Sam’s hips, down to his jeans…and Sam was lifting his ass without thinking.

Dean’s mouth was warm, his hands confident as they pulled Sam’s jeans down, off…then came back to Sam’s cock. They both looked as Dean’s hand closed around him. Sam’s whole body tensed, jerked up as Dean’s hand dragged up his cock, dry and hot and this was Dean….his Dean. The real Dean.

Sam grabbed his wrist, stopped his movement. “Why?” he asked breathlessly.

Dean leaned in, not taking his hand away. “Because I want to.” Dean whispered in Sam’s ear. He kissed his way to Sam’s other ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Sam’s head fell back against the wall and a sound that was part whimper, part moan escaped him. “You…I just want you.” Sam gasped as Dean moved to kiss him again. The awkward was melting away as Dean warmed to the idea, to taking charge. He was on the bed, his cock pressed to Sam’s naked thigh.

“Got me, Sam.” Dean whispered, his hands working now to get Sam’s shirt off. Once he had it, Dean tossed it away and kissed Sam again, his confidence building, his tongue surging into Sam’s mouth, taking possession of it. “What next?”

Sam couldn’t make his brain function, couldn’t think past Dean, Dean, Dean on endless repeat in his head. The bed moved as Dean climbed back onto it , leaning over Sam. “Tell me where to touch you.” Dean said softly, his lips sliding over Sam’s neck. His hands skimmed over Sam’s chest, paused at his nipple, playing with it.

“Dean…” He whined and reached a hand to cup the back of his brother’s head , drawing his mouth to that same nipple. Dean licked it, rolled it a little under his tongue. Sam hissed and Dean chuckled.

“I see you like that too?” He nipped then, his teeth grasping the hardened nub and pulling lightly before letting go and letting his tongue sooth the sting. He moved to the other nipple and repeated the whole thing.

Sam’s cock was leaking, aching…Sam reached for it, but Dean’s hands stopped him. “Let me.”

“Dean.” Sam lifted up to convince him to stop, but Dean’s mouth touched him and sent electric current through him and his next words were lost in a ramble of fuck and Dean and yespleaseyesmore until Sam grabbed him in warning, his cock spewing.

Dean pulled up and away, but not before some of it splash his face. Sam pulled on him and sat up, pulling Dean in to kiss, and licking up the come. “Kinky bastard.” Dean whispered appreciatively as he pulled away.

His own cock was harder now, deep red and Sam wanted to feel him, to have him inside him. He couldn’t deny the desire, the need. He ran a single finger over Dean’s cock and Dean shivered. “I want you.” Sam whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned in, kissing over his brother’s mouth. “I want you inside me Dean…I want to feel you…need…”

He opened his eyes, and met Dean’s. He wasn’t sure what he saw there…only knew he had to…he had to or Sam might die. Sam reached for the floor by the bed where his bag was. He didn’t carry lube like he used to, but he had a tube of hand lotion that was better than nothing. Dean was watching him…waiting.

Sam squirted some into his hand and warmed it, rubbing his hands together before reaching for Dean. His hand slid slick around Dean’s cock and Dean’s eyes fluttered closed briefly. He moved his free hand behind him, pushing two fingers up inside him. It had been so long since anyone had been inside him, so long and he was tight and he knew this wouldn’t be enough…but for now…for this…

He started to turn, to offer his ass up, but Dean caught him, dragged him in to kiss. “Want to see you.” Dean’s voice was low, with more uncertainty that Sam was used to. “Want to.”

“God, Dean…It’s just easier…”

Dean shook his head. “Don’t want easy Sam. Want you.”

Sam’s throat constricted and he laid back, spreading his legs and trying not to think as Dean came with him, sliding between Sam’s legs, his cock slicking over his thighs. Sam bent his knees, tilted his hips and reached for Dean’s cock, guiding it.

“I’ve…never…” Dean cleared his throat, braced himself on the bed on either side of Sam.

“Easy.” Sam murmured. He nestled the tip against the tight hole of his ass. “Now…push.”

Dean did and Sam willed the lotion to be enough. He held his breath as Dean eased in past the outer ring and froze. “Sam?”

“It’s okay….go on…” Dean’s eyes were closed, his face tense. Sweat beaded across his brow. Sam focused on relaxing, on letting him in, on feeling the stretch and burn and fuck but he was getting hard again. “Ease out…just a little.” Sam whispered. “Now…in again.”

It took a few long minutes of working him open but then Dean was fully inside him and Sam gasped, relishing the feeling of fullness and Dean.

“Look at me.” Dean’s voice was throaty and deep, almost a growl and Sam looked up, into his brother’s green eyes all dark and filled with emotion. “This is real.” He flexed a little, pushing a little deeper into Sam and Sam’s eyes rolled before coming back to Dean’s. “This is me, Sam.”

Just like in the dream, on the car, Sam couldn’t touch enough of his brother, running his hands over Dean’s arms, pulling him down to kiss. “Fuck me Dean.” Sam begged in his ear. “Need to feel you…”

Dean’s movements weren’t proper thrusts, more like tiny pulses inside him, but Sam didn’t care. He held on and he surrendered and he begged until he felt the warm, wet flush of Dean’s come, felt Dean’s hand on his own cock, coaxing it toward his second orgasm. Dean slipped out of him, curling and landing on his back next to Sam.

It was quiet a long time before Sam found the strength to speak. “You okay?”

Dean’s face was unreadable. “Honestly? Don’t know.”

It was another long silence, then Dean looked at him. “Did I hurt you?”

Sam shook his head. It was awkward, but how could it not be?

“I’m going to shower.” Sam said finally, getting up a little stiffly.

He wasn’t sure how to react to this…couldn’t read what was going on in Dean’s mind. Not sure how this affected Dean’s decision to send him away…not sure it should. Maybe…maybe this was just Dean’s way of giving him something…one more fucked up thing in the role of big brother who would do anything for him…before Sam went away.

Sam ducked under the spray and ran a hand through his hair. He started when Dean slid into the shower with him. “Dean?”

“What? It sounded good.” He reached around Sam and grabbed the shampoo. “Besides, I figured you were in here over thinking it as usual.” Sam shifted around to let him under the water.

Dean stuck his head into the stream of water, his hand on Sam’s chest, holding him to the spot. “I don’t want you thinking I did it just because you wanted it.”

That was exactly why Dean did it. Why Dean did anything. Everything.

“I mean it Sam. Don’t go getting all morose on me over this.”

Sam nodded slowly, then leaned in to kiss him. Soft, tender. Dean didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. “Yeah, okay.”

Maybe it wasn’t perfect and maybe Dean didn’t really want him the way Sam wanted Dean…but he wasn’t disgusted by it…and maybe, for the moment, that was enough.



“I’m starving.” Sam’s stomach was rumbling loudly and Dean chuckled.

“All that exercise.” He pointed at the sign. “Café a few miles ahead.”

“Good.” Sam shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Dean had spent two days making very sure that Sam was okay, or maybe he was proving that he sincere…either way, Sam’s body was achy and his ass was still sore.

Like anything else his brother embraced, Dean learned his way around Sam’s body fast. Dean’s hand fell on his knee and Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t even tell me you could go again.”

Dean chuckled. “You know I can, Sam. I’m insatiable.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth and Sam leaned over to suck it into his mouth.

“Yes, you are.” Dean pulled them off the road and up in front of a really small café.

Sam reached for the door and Dean’s hand stopped him. “Get me a burger. Extra onions.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude. Always with the extra onions and I’m the one who has to deal with your extra onion breath.”

Dean smirked and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips. “You love me and my extra onions.”

Sam made a growling sound and got out of the car.

“Get me some pie!” Dean called.

Sam waved back at him and headed for the door. He looked back at Dean, who was happily pounding out the rhythm to whatever song he’d found on the radio, his fingers beating on the steering wheel.

Dean was…well, Dean. Despite the last three days. Despite everything. He seemed happier even. There was no more talk of Sam going back to school. No talk of Dean leaving Sam on the side of the road. They bickered and bantered the same as always.

The only difference was that they only needed one bed, and when their eyes met there was a little something more there. Then, of course there was the sex. Sam smiled. The sex was good.

He took a deep breath. He’d always thought Dean was the one thing he wanted and the one thing he could never have. The djinn had given him his wish after all….and damn if that didn’t just beat it all.