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Lust for Revenge	By : FireSage Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 13182 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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I hate hurricane season! School got shut down, the power went out at least four times, and had to deal with all of the freaked out freshman who don’t know that this happens almost every year! Great way to start off your first week of school! I’m really considering transferring to one of those square states….

Anyway, sorry for the delay. I wish I could say that this isn’t going to happen in the future but with school being shut down all of my classes are trying to play catch up which means more work for me (yay….not). I will try to update as soon as I can as often as I can and ask that you please be patient with me. Thank you very much! (Hops off stool and gets on with the story).

They dress in silence, as if pretending the other wasn’t there. Dean winces a little when the soft cotton of his shirt glides over the fresh scratches from blunt nails down his back and when moving his arms aggravates the love bites on his shoulders and chest. It’s not as much as Sam though, who has to clench his teeth and hold his breath when he pulls his pants on. It appeared that sex was very much like fighting for the Winchester brothers. A display of brute strength, cranial power, and force that usually ended up in one of them getting hurt. But it wasn’t physical pain that hurt them the most; it was the fact that it didn’t hurt that was doing it.

In the span of a few hours that Dean had exited the shower, the brothers had had sex. Twice in fact. Though they hadn’t really spoken to each other outside of sex crazed jargon, they still knew each other enough to know that that was what they were both feeling. It was during this time both brother’s came to the personal conclusion that they didn’t hate it like they should but that they actually….enjoyed it. That was what hurt more than the scrapes and bites and sore muscles. It was one thing to be forced to do this. Being forced against your will was something they could deal with. Having no control meant that they couldn’t do anything about it, that they had to do it, which ultimately meant no responsibility. But to actually enjoying it, wanting more of it, literally begging your brother for a touch, for release, was a completely different story. Forced or not, enjoy sex you’re your brother put this on a whole new level that they weren’t prepared to deal with.

The whole time they were getting dressed Dean refused to look at Sam. It wasn’t because he was angry or disgusted with Sam; Dean just wasn’t taking any chances by even look at Sam anymore. The mere sight of his younger brother sent chills down his spine, making him want to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. Dean closed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood. He couldn’t think of that. His mind was against him now and apparently had a very over active imagination when it came to Sam in its current state. “Sam…I think we should spilt up until we find Lust.”

“What?” Sam asked, head snapping up from staring at his lap from the edge of the bed so his wide green locked onto the back of his brother’s head.

“We can cover more ground if we’re separated. And….I think it’s the only way we can stop from doing this.” Dean said in a heavy, serious tone he reserved for only the gravest of situations, pretending not to notice the slight tremor of fear and disbelief in Sam’s voice. He had to be reasonable here, the responsible one. It was the best thing for both of them.

“Oh…okay…” Sam said and turned back to staring at his lap dejectedly.

Dean wanted to leave? But Dean couldn’t leave! He was his brother. He needed him! This wasn’t the spell talking either. Sam always knew he needed Dean. Everyone thought that it was the other way around, that Dean needed Sam, but that wasn’t true. Sam needed him for everything, well only recently everything. Dean was the one consistent in his life, the one thing that never ever changed or left him, even when Sam pushed him away. It was like Dean was a part of him and he couldn’t lose Dean. It would be like losing his arm or a piece of his soul. He’d be lost, incomplete.

“Come on Sam, don’t be like that.” The older Winchester pleaded trying to repress the need to comfort his brother and make that hurt look go away. He couldn’t be trusted to comfort Sam right now and it was killing him. Maybe that was what hurt Dean the most about this whole situation. Not the sex, not these feelings, but the fact that he couldn’t help Sam. Sam was his everything and he couldn’t do anything to protect him from this, from himself. “You know this is the only way we can fix this. We can’t be around each other Sam. Look at us man! I can’t….I can’t control myself with you around.” I can’t stop myself from hurting you. I can’t stop myself from giving in. “So for the time being we just have to stay away from each other ‘til we get this shit fixed. Ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” The way Sam responds is mechanical and forced. Dean knows that tone. It was the same way he responded when their Dad would show up and tell them that they were moving again. Sam had always argued at first, wanted to stay and make friends and a home, but after they had lost count of how many times that never happened he would just start saying that. So when Sam Winchester said ‘Yeah, ok’ in that tone, it really meant ‘Yeah, ok. I fucking hate you.’ And Dean, knowing that that’s what Sam wanted to say but never would, ate him up inside.

Dean reaches out a hand towards Sam, but stops midway. He wants to comfort Sam, he does, but he can’t risk it. He can’t risk were it will lead them again. Instead, Dean clenches his eyes and hand into a fist. He lunches forward and storms for and out of the door, sparing only a second to grab his jacket.

This Podunk town in the middle of North Dakota was cold this time of year. Dean welcomed it. He wanted it to be cold. He was too hot, too warm all the time now from the blood pumping fiercely in his veins. His breathing came out in small white puffs as he briskly walked to the Impala with every intention of getting away from Sam and finding that fucking cunt as fast as he could. He just had to get away from Sam. Everything would be alright if he just got away from Sam.

Dean made it two parked cars away from his precious car before it happened. The world turned a complete forty five degrees out of nowhere and pitched Dean for a loop. Dean stumbled and fell against the outer wall of some other couples room to catch himself. He slid down the wall and onto the ground, his legs unable to support his own weight. He couldn’t stand up, felt like he was going to vomit. He cried out as his head suddenly erupted in a fierce headache and his stomach felt like it was being stabbed with white hot pokers. He was in so much pain so fast that he couldn’t cope. What was happening to him? Something was wrong, very wrong.

Dean!!

Dean looked around through the pain at the sound of his name. “Sam…?”

Oh God, Dean!!

There was no denying it. Dean would know that voice anywhere. It was Sam’s. And he was in pain. “Sam!” Through sheer force of will, Dean got up on his knees and by some miracle from above managed to stand, though shakily, on his feet. The oldest Winchester stumbled and swayed, palming the concrete wall for support as he moved back towards his room. All he kept thinking was ‘he had to get back to Sam. Sam needed him. He needed to be with Sam.’ Funny how only a few moments ago he had committed himself to the complete opposite.

When Dean got to their room door it flew open and smacked against the wall with a loud bang; the cheap ply wood shuttering at the abuse of almost being ripped off its hinges. Across the room Sam looked up at Dean from where he had tucked his head into himself from his fetal position on the bed. His arms were wrapped tightly around his mid-section, sweat dotted his brow, and those normally expressive eyes all but screamed ‘please help me! I’m in so much pain!’ This was actually good because the only thing that Sam could choke out was “Dean….” before he doubled back into himself and groaned loudly in pain.

The older Winchester was across the room in the blink of an eye, almost before the sound of the door being slammed back shut resonated through the room. “It’s ok Sammy, I’m here. Everything is gonna be ok.” Dean muttered in a soothing tone, ignoring his own serious pain, holding Sam close to him and rocking him a little in an attempt to be comforting.

“God Dean, what…what’s happening?!” Sam’s words brushed against Dean’s neck in a warm rush from where his head lay tucked under his brother’s chin. His second growl of pain was muffled by Dean’s cotton T-shirt as his face was pressed tighter to his chest.

Dean didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what was going on, what to do, how to fix this. So, he did the only thing he knew he could do. He held Sam close, twining long legs with his own, and kissed the top of his head. Dean had done this a thousand times when they were younger. Little Sammy would have a nightmare and Big Brother Dean would climb into his bed, if they weren’t already sharing, and hold him tight to keep Sammy safe until he fell back asleep. He hadn’t done it since Sam was ten. Sammy adamant that he didn’t need Dean to take care of him, but it had always worked then.

Surprisingly enough, it was working now. Not just for Sam either. The moment that Dean’s lips made contact with Sam’s soft hair, the pain subsided a little. Dean did it again, a little lower to kiss the taller brunette’s sweat damp brow, and it subsided a little more. Sam stopped squirming in pain in his arm and just laid there in a little ball against him. His eyes flickered up, no longer with pin prick pupils of pain, but slowly returning to normal green eyes. He looked a little confused. As to why Dean could only guess, he had a running list in both alphabetical and chronological order as to why he was confused recently. Sam’s head seemed to metaphorically tilt before he uncurled himself in Dean’s arms and kissed his brother full on the lips.

Dean let himself be kissed for a moment, being lost for a bit in the feel of the soft, gentle kiss, before he jerked away from Sam. “Sam, no, we can’t-“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Dean’s tangent about this being wrong stopped at Sam’s interjection. “You came back and it stopped. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” The younger brother clarified, though his words held a slight questioning inflection of why.

Dean paused and just seemed to notice that the pain had in fact stopped. Dean mentally sighed in defeat as the reality of this sunk in. It was then that Dean realized that it wasn’t some miracle that he was able to get back to Sam. It was a curse. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting Sam and he couldn’t leave to stop himself from doing anything about it. They were trapped together, metaphorically speaking, and unable to leave the other’s side for more than, how far had he made it, a couple car lengths.

“It’s gonna be ok Sammy. We’ll figure this out.”

“It’s Sam. So you’re not going to leave?” Sam’s query seemed redundant, but held an underlining of hopeful. Dean sighed again and shook his head.

“No, couldn’t if I wanted to.”

“But you want to?” The question was more of a statement from Sam and though flat and monotone had a foundation of hurt that Dean wanted to leave but couldn’t, which made it worse than him actually leaving.

Dean closed his eyes and buried his face under Sam’s chin this time, sighing for the third time in under ten minutes. “No, I don’t want to leave Sam. It’s just….I can’t deal with this right now. Can we drop it?” Dean’s question was also not a question. It was more of a command. He wasn’t talking about this anymore, end of discussion, and he was thankful that Sam just let it drop.

Sorry no sexy time this time. Smut will be in the next chapter :) . Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated! ^_^
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Lust for Revenge