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The Earth is Still Part of the Sky	By : Io Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male > Dean/Sam Views: 2470 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Supernatural, characters, locations, etc, do not belong to me in any way, shape or form. I make no profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
It was only a few days later when the storm inside Sam finally broke.
It started harmlessly enough.
The laundromat had been unreasonably packed on this particular cloudy day in Oregon. Finally back from that mundane chore, the two Winchesters were packing up their meager possessions. Another case solved, another demon vanquished, and all they had to show for it was dirty clothes and a couple new scars.
“Demons are pretty stupid, considering all the ones we deal with are, like, thousands of years old,” Dean snorted derisively as he stuffed a tee shirt into his knapsack.
“Um, Dean, I have to disagree.”
“Why?” Dean asked. “They always try the same shit. They are literally walking definitions of insanity.”
“Well, at least one of them's pretty smart,” Sam muttered.
Dean dropped his bag on the bed. “Sammy, I thought we decided to get over this.”
“Well, I'm so sorry, Dean. I guess some days are just better than others, okay? I only remember every single thing that happened when she held me prisoner in my own body.”
Dean's blood turned to ice.
Surely not everything.
He swallowed, waiting for Sam to alliterate, but the silence stretched after Sam's admission, and after a few moments, Dean couldn't take it anymore.
“We should get packed up,” he said.
“Dean,” Sam said, his voice quiet and intent. “Did you hear what I just said?”
Dean grabbed his bag and headed for the escape of the door, but Sam was quicker. He grabbed Dean by the arm and held him in a vise-like grip. Dean's breath caught at the strength in those hands.
“Sammy, there's no need to exaggerate,” he said, casting about for the right words.
“I'm not, Dean. I was awake for it all. I remember all of it.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but he might have screamed it in Dean's ear, for the effect it had on his older brother.
Dean wrenched away from Sam, but his legs suddenly wouldn't move, and he stood rooted to the spot. The time had finally come, and Dean was not prepared for this.
“I remember the dry-dock,” Sam continued.
“What dry dock? You woke up at Bobby's.” Dean's heart was beating so hard he could barely squeeze the words from his throat.
“We were in Duluth, Dean,” Sam said. “Duluth, where Meg tied up Jo to a wooden pillar. Where you threw holy water on me, where you chased Meg, where she caught you. And what happened after.”
“Nothing happened,” Dean said. The bag of clothes fell from his suddenly lifeless hand.
“Bullshit.”
“Nothing happened,” Dean reiterated. He clenched his jaw shut against the sudden rise of nausea in his stomach.
“Everything happened,” Sam pushed. “Meg undressed me.”
“Nothing. Happened.” The words were wrenched from Dean in a desperate, dark tone.
Sam had had enough of Dean's games.
“Stop denying it, Dean! I was there! I remember everything, okay?”
Dean stood stoically, his back to Sam, his eyes determinedly on the floor.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, not moving.
Sam jerked Dean around by the arm and shook him when Dean refused to look him in the eye.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about,” Sam said sarcastically. “Right. Like for weeks you haven’t been looking at me with guilt written all over your face. Like I don’t remember the sounds you make when you come, the way that vein stands out in your neck-”
Dean wrenched away, panic making him reckless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his voice low and raw. He backed away from Sam, looking for a route of escape, but the only path to the door was through Sam, and Dean didn’t trust himself to be that close to him right now.
“You called out my name when you jizzed all over my chest.”
“Stop it.”
“Meg was right. Your come tastes sweet.”
“Shut. Up.”
“You want it again.”
Dread filled Dean at Sam’s accurate accusations. What Sam must think of him right now, knowing his secret, carrying it for months before finally he couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. Dean just wished things would be left better than this when they finally parted for good. Abruptly, he gave up the pretense and closed his eyes in defeat.
“All right, Sam,” Dean said through stiff, numb lips. “All right. Yes. It happened. All of it.” As he admitted it, everything he’d been holding dammed in was finally released. Shaking with the effort, held in the tears of shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“You should have been stronger.”
Not possible, Dean thought. Not when it comes to you.
“Look, I understand, okay? We’re done. I get it. It happened, and I was trying to protect you from it, but Meg didn’t let me. I’m so sorry, Sammy. But you know it happened, and there’s no going back.” His voice failed him for a moment before he said what he knew he had to, but dreaded nonetheless. “I’ll go. You can have the car, the weapons, whatever you want-”
“I don’t want any of those things,” Sam cut him off. “There’s nothing tangible that you can give me that will make this situation any better.”
Dean couldn’t hold them in anymore, and a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek and reflected the dim, watery sunlight filtering through the blinds in their motel room. He swallowed, then nodded jerkily.
“Okay, Sammy. Don’t worry, okay? I won’t bother you. Just…” his voice faltered again before he plunged on. “Just call me if you need me. For anything.”
“Where are you going?” demanded Sam.
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. Just…away.”
“Why?” asked Sam incredulously.
Dean finally raised his eyes to Sam’s in mild disbelief. “Weren’t you here for this conversation?”
“I’ve been here for everything.”
“And don’t you want me to go?”
Sam’s gaze bored into Dean. “Whoever said that?”
Dean’s puzzlement was written clearly across his face. “Then what was the point of bringing this up? Why did you want to humiliate me like this?”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Humiliating you was never the point, Dean.”
“Then what was? I can’t feel any lower, Sam.”
Instantly contrite, Sam’s eyes changed from demon-mad to puppy-dog. “Dean…that’s not why…ah, shit,” he said, and ran his hand distractedly through his hair. Dean could see his brother was struggling with something, but suddenly he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. All he wanted to do was get very, very drunk, and go and find some tiny, dainty little blonde with blue eyes who didn’t believe in ghosts and fuck her all night. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment.
“Look, Sam, let’s just drop it, okay? We can’t change the past, we both know what happened, and we know how we feel about it.”
“See, Dean, I don’t think we do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be threatening to leave.”
“I wasn’t threatening, I was offering.”
“Same difference, Dean.”
Dean sighed. “I’m tired, Sam. I’m so tired. I’m tired of hiding this thing. You know what happened that night, but what you don’t know was how badly I wanted it. I wanted it to be you. Wanted it so badly that I fooled myself into thinking it was, and I was the happiest guy alive for a few precious seconds in my delusions. I have spent all my time since then between hating myself for it and wishing I was back there again.” He paused, trying without success to decipher Sam’s unreadable expression. “So now you know everything.”
Sam stared at Dean for a moment. “Now I know,” he agreed.
“So I’ll go,” Dean said, and started forward.
Sam caught him by the wrist and pulled him back.
“What is this obsession with leaving all of a sudden?” he asked in irritation.
“You think this is what I want?” Dean retorted. “I’m doing this for you, you big tree! I’m leaving so you don’t have to see me, to deal with this…sick…attraction I have to you. Don’t you understand, Sam? Do I really need to spell it out?”
Sam watched him, his eyes a mystery.
“Yeah, Dean. I think you do.”
Anger suddenly shot through him. He jerked his wrist out of Sam’s grasp and pushed him against the wall.
“Fine! I want you! I want to fuck you in every way possible! I want to hear the sounds you make when I’m in you, I want to feel every inch of your body with my hands, my mouth. I want to taste you again so badly that half the time I’m around you I can’t see straight. And it makes me so angry that the only time I’ve ever kissed you the way I want to was when a demon was taking residence inside you, and it wasn’t even really you!”
“Yes, it was,” Sam said quietly.
Dean had drawn in a breath to retort, but when he actually heard what Sam was saying, he held it. Time seemed suspended for a moment as he processed what he’d heard.
“What?” he finally whispered.
“When you kissed me, I was able to force Meg out of the way for a minute,” Sam replied, his voice low.
“Why?” asked Dean, confused.
“Because I wanted to kiss you back.”
Dean held his breath again, afraid to even dare hope for what that meant.
“Y-you…”
“It was me, Dean. You kissed me. And I kissed you.”
“Why?” Dean asked faintly again.
“Can’t you guess, Dean?”
“I think it’s time for you spell it out this time, Sam.”
Sam smiled tenderly and dropped his gaze to Dean’s mouth. Dean’s heart stopped, then started again double-time.
“You mean you’ve never known that the feeling is mutual?”
Dean couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
“Sam…whatever this is, I’m begging you…don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing you,” Sam said, his face sincere as he searched Dean’s own countenance. “Not in the least. I’m at least as obsessed with you as you are with me.”
Dean’s heart skipped a beat again as he watched Sam’s face. Before he could give himself time to think about it, he reached up behind Sam’s neck and brought his head down to him. Sam’s lips met his eagerly, and he groaned in surrender, immediately grabbing Dean’s shirt and twisting the fabric in his fists.
Dean’s entire existence narrowed to this one thing, this one act. His perception focused only on the taste of his brother’s tongue, still so strangely familiar. Dean slanted his head and began to kiss Sam more deeply, his arms winding around his brother’s shoulders and pressing him close. Sam’s fists twisted ever tighter in Dean’s shirt, until Dean grasped his wrists and pulled them free of the fabric, then guided Sam’s arms around him. The feel of those arms holding him so tightly made Dean’s head light, and he sank his hands into Sam’s wild mass of hair, groaning in delight that he could at last do so after years of wanting, and felt his cock begin to stir in his pants.
Sam’s steel-band arms were around his waist, pulling him close, then pulling his shirt out of his waistband and delving under it to feel Dean’s bare back with his large, warm hands. The action drew a moan from Dean, who tore his mouth from Sam’s and buried his face in his brother’s neck.
“Please let this be real,” he whispered, so lowly that Sam almost didn’t hear him. Almost.
“It’s real, Dean,” Sam said, a little breathless. His hands swept from Dean’s back to his sides to his front, fingertips drifting over his nipples, and Dean gave a harsh groan. Sam made a small sound of frustration. Suddenly his fists tightened in the fabric of Dean’s shirt and he pulled. A satisfied smile crept across Sam's face as the sound of buttons popping off fabric filled the room, and impatiently, he ripped the rest of the shirt from Dean's sleekly muscled frame.
Again, Sam lifted his hands to Dean's body, murmuring a reassurance when Dean quivered under his touch like a stallion. Leaning down, he took another kiss from Dean, then reached for the fastening of his jeans.
Oh, god, Dean could hardly believe what was happening, and so fast. In one moment, he’d been about to walk out the door and separate himself from Sam forever, and the next they were in each other’s arms, their mouths trying to devour one other. His heart swelled, and so did his cock. Then Sam shoved his hand down Dean’s pants and immediately found what he was looking for. A choked cry escaped Dean as Sam freed him from his jeans, and he roughly thrust his hips forward.
It was as powerful as before, only more so, because his thinking wasn’t clouded by a demon’s magic this time; it was really Sam. Dean plucked impatiently at Sam’s t-shirt, and Sam briefly freed him to shuck it off. Sam’s wide, muscled chest met Dean’s eyes, and he cursed shakily under his breath. Then Sam took hold of his cock again, slowly jerking him in his big hand.
The pressure was too much for Dean to bear, and he quickly grabbed Sam’s wrist before he exploded. He could not bear a repeat of last time. Instead, he drove Sam back against the wall with his body and pinned both Sam’s wrists on either side of his head.
“Not so fast, little brother,” he said, his voice hoarse and smoky. He pressed another hard kiss to Sam’s eager mouth, and Sam squirmed against his body. The rasp of denim against his bare dick almost made him lose it again, and he stepped back. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the sight of Sam clothed any longer, and frantically began unbuckling his belt, tearing at his fly, jerking his zipper down.
When he reached into Sam’s open jeans and found the hard shaft ready to burst through the fabric, Sam groaned, his hips moving violently at the stimulation. Dean made a sound of satisfaction, having wanted to hold his brother’s immense cock since seeing it in action the time Sam had slept with the female werewolf out in California.
Without thought, he sank to his knees and came face-to-face with it, then impatiently grabbed the waistband of Sam’s pants and pulled down. He glanced at Sam’s face, gratified at the sight of his slightly open mouth and swollen lips, the heavy-lidded eyes, the cheeks flushed with color. Sam was watching him, his breath coming in heaving pants, and his eyes glittered as they bore into Dean’s, who grasped Sam’s big cock in both hands, then opened his mouth and greedily took him in.
The first taste of Sam was like autumn – fresh and clean, and inexplicably, of nutmeg. Dean groaned in pleasure around the huge organ, sucking and licking the way he’d wanted to for forever. He couldn’t get enough, feeding on Sam’s cock with a voracity that surprised even him. Sam’s head dropped back against the wall, a tortured groan escaping him. His hands thrust into Dean’s hair and gently held his head as Dean’s mouth slowly took him as deep as he could, then pulled back, creating a strong suction that had Sam arching off the wall.
“Oh, god,” the words burst from Sam’s throat in a desperate rush, and Dean hummed in satisfaction, then repeated the movement, lapping the underside of Sam’s cock with his tongue as he took him in. Sam was able to stand that about two more times before his hands tightened in Dean’s hair and he said, “Oh, god, Dean, your mouth - Dean, stop. I’m gonna-”
Dean ignored him, sucking more intensely as he felt Sam get harder under his tongue. Jesus, Sam was so hot it was making Dean’s head spin, and he ran his tongue over the sensitive head of Sam’s shaft, circling it twice before exploring the small indent at the tip, where he found a drop of viscous liquid. Eagerly, he lapped it up, closing his eyes at the taste, again strangely familiar and crisp. He wanted more.
But Sam had other plans, and he gently but firmly pulled Dean away and up, covering Dean’s mouth with his own again. He took one of Dean’s hands and enfolded it over his pulsing cock. Dean rose up to meet him, pressing him back against the wall again, his hand never leaving Sam. In earnest now, he started jerking him off, his hand moving quick and sure over the swollen organ, and Sam clung to Dean, lost in the sensation.
Dean moved his mouth to Sam’s ear and spoke, his voice low and uneven. “I’m going to fuck you, Sam. I’m going to come inside your ass and your mouth, and you’re gonna belong to me. I’ll keep you safe, Sammy. No one loves you like I do. Jesus, Sam, I love you so much.”
At his words, Sam gave a choked cry. “Dean,” he grated hoarsely, and turned his mouth once again to his big brother’s. Dean felt Sam’s cock jump once more in his hand before a hot burst of come jetted from it, splattering both their chests as Sam cried out his pleasure into Dean’s mouth. It seemed forever that Dean held Sam that way, until finally the spasms abated and their lips unlocked. Sam buried his face in Dean’s neck, his breathing harsh and deep. Dean closed his eyes and kissed Sam’s shoulder, leaning them both against the wall for support. His cock was painfully hard, and it was trapped between their slick, bare torsos.
At last, Sam’s head came up from its resting place, and he nuzzled Dean’s temple with his lips. “Dean,” he whispered. Dean didn’t answer. His muscles were thrumming with a fine tension, his body almost shaking with need, but he was suddenly hesitant to look up. He was afraid. This scene was very similar to a previous one, one that had ended horrifically, and Dean couldn’t take it if that happened again.
“Dean,” said Sam again, a bit louder, running his hands up Dean’s arms and shoulders to cup his face. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to Sam’s broad chest. Just as before, it was crisscrossed with spatters of come, but this time it was Sam’s. Then Dean’s eye caught sight of a pentacle tattoo on Sam’s left pectoral, and he slowly let his breath out. The tattoo was identical to his own; they had both gotten one after Sam’s demon-possession. Dean reached up to cover the protective symbol with his hand. Sam understood what the gesture meant, and covered Dean’s hand with his own. “It’s me, Dean,” he said. Taking his courage in both hands, Dean lifted his eyes to Sam’s. Liquid brown eyes, slumberous and full of sincerity and love, gazed back at him; Sam’s eyes were his own. He was smiling as one hand lazily swept across Dean’s chest.
“It’s you,” Dean agreed, still not quite believing his luck. Just to reassure himself that it was, he pressed another kiss to Sam’s lips, then traced his finger over the white fluid patterning his belly. Without thinking, he brought his finger to his lips and tasted Sam, closing his eyes at the flavor. A sudden curiosity entered his mind.
“Why didn’t you want to come in my mouth?” asked Dean.
Sam’s eyes half-closed in delight and he gave a shudder at the thought of doing so, but he shook his head and stroked Dean’s lower lip.
“I had to…even the score,” he said lowly.
Dean shivered at the feel of Sam’s finger tracing his lip, then forced himself to pay attention to the conversation. A very difficult thing to do, since Sam’s iniquitous fingers had found his cock again, and was slowly stroking him up and down.
“What do you mean, ‘even the score’?”
“The last time this happened, it ended horribly for you. I wanted to make a new memory of it.”
“But I was the one who…who…”
“I wanted you to be in control, and I wanted to be in your place.”
A little stunned, Dean stared at his younger brother, at his almost naked, glistening form, and felt a large surge of blood rush to his already hard dick. Roughly, he shoved Sam against the wall again and took his mouth in a deep, ravenous kiss that left them both breathless. Somehow, they made it to the bed, and Dean covered Sam with his body, one knee between Sam’s legs. Their mouths never lost contact, and Sam arched up against him, rubbing his pelvis against Dean’s engorged cock.
Oh, god, finally, finally he had Sam under him and willing. Not just willing, but eager, straining against him, matching him kiss for kiss. Convulsively, Dean’s hips thrust down, and he made a sound of frustration that his jeans prevented full-on contact. He reared up and shoved them down while Sam kicked his own jeans off his ankles. Once free of the fabric, Sam stretched, flexing his big, muscular body, almost glorying in the suddenly bright sunlight coming through the windows.
Dean watched him, transfixed, marveling at how natural Sam seemed to be, when his upbringing told him what they were doing was anything but. Amazingly, though, Sam didn’t seem to care, and since Sam didn’t, neither did Dean.
“Turn over,” he ordered quietly. And lazily, like a great, graceful cat, Sam obeyed him, presenting Dean with a view of his beautifully shaped ass, and his strong, wide back. Dean’s heart stopped and his dick jumped in response. Slowly, Dean crawled onto the bed and settled behind Sam, reaching out a shaking hand to stroke one firm buttock. Sam purred in reaction to his touch and arched his back, his hips rising to meet Dean’s hand. Dean’s eyes darkened, and his blood felt effervescent in his veins. “Come up on your knees. I want to see you.”
From that angle, he could see the tiny, puckered opening of Sam’s body. He moved his hand and ran his finger down the fissure between Sam’s buttocks, then wet his thumb and slowly, deliberately probed at Sam’s ass, circling the tight entrance before pressing within. Sam made a raw sound in his throat, his hips shifting restlessly.
“Oh, god, Dean. Yes. Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.”
Dean could see Sam’s cock start to thicken and stiffen again, and he gave a smile of grim satisfaction at the sight. He withdrew his thumb, then shifted his hand and inserted two fingers. This time Sam’s reaction was even stronger, his hips bucking. Dean went as deep as he could, and his fingers encountered a small knob deep inside Sam. Turning his fingers, he made a stroking motion up and back, and Sam all but came again, a strangled sound reverberating from his chest. When Dean began stroking him there repeatedly, Sam couldn’t keep his hips still or control the sounds he was making, and he reached down and grasped his own hard-again cock and started stroking it in tandem with Dean’s internal caresses.
Dean ran his free hand over Sam’s back in a calming touch, and Sam quieted somewhat, but the distraction of what Dean’s fingers were doing to his prostate was too much.
“Dean,” Sam said again, his voice smoky with need. Dean was almost ready to burst himself, and decided he’d had enough preliminaries. He removed his fingers, and Sam made an almost disappointed sound. He wriggled his ass in the air, and Dean couldn’t resist bending down and tasting him there, propelling his tongue into the recently-breached entrance as far as he could. “Fuck!” yelled Sam, unprepared for that onslaught, and had to take his hand from his dick to keep from coming immediately. Both his hands twisted the sheet beneath them, and he sank his teeth into the motel room pillow.
Dean withdrew and stood, surveying his handiwork, and said almost to himself, “I wish we had some lube. I don’t want to hurt you.”
To his surprise, Sam turned his head from the pillow and said, “There’s a bottle in my bag.”
Dean blinked, then said, “You just carry lube around? How often do you…” he couldn’t finish the question, afraid of the answer.
“I’ve never- only with girls. I bought it after…after Meg possessed me. I just thought…I hoped…”
Dean’s head did that spinny-thing again, and concentrated on breathing for a moment. “You’ve been carrying it around for months, waiting for when we would…when we…” Neither of them could seem to finish a sentence, but thankfully each knew what the other was saying.
Sure enough, a search of Dean’s knapsack turned up a bottle of high-end lubricant, and Dean wondered when Sam had slipped away to buy it. When he popped the lid, a safety seal met his eyes, and he smiled as he realized Sam was telling the truth. As he broke the safety seal, the allegory of what he was doing crossed his mind, and as he kneeled behind Sam and slowly, thoroughly began spreading the slick fluid around and inside him, he cautioned himself that though Sam was ready and eager, he’d never done this before. Dean would need to take it easy this time.
Sam moaned at the feel of Dean’s slick fingers, and Dean said quietly, “On your back. I want to see your face the first time I take you like this.”
Sam turned back over and opened his legs, and Dean knelt between them. Sam grabbed the bottle of lube from Dean and poured out a liberal amount, then gently took hold of Dean’s painfully-hard cock and spread it over him. Dean had to choke back a groan and was able to endure Sam’s ministrations until his brother began inspecting the delicate head of his penis. Dean forcibly removed Sam’s hands from his cock, then leaned forward and mounted him. Taking himself in one hand, he guided his thick member to the tiny opening to Sam’s body. With his other hand, he held Sam behind the neck and locked eyes with him, never looking away as he pressed forward, penetrating Sam’s ass slowly and surely.
Sam made a small sound of pain, and dug his fingers into Dean’s back.
“Am I hurting you?” Dean said, his voice raw and deep.
“A little,” replied Sam breathlessly. “I don’t care, though. Don’t stop, Dean. I’ve waited forever.”
The longing in Sam’s voice made Dean have to force himself to keep from plunging his hips down sharply and burying himself completely in Sam. Little by little, Sam accepted Dean into his body, and finally, finally, Dean was seated to the hilt. Wide-eyed, Sam’s face mirrored his wonder, and he wriggled a bit to adjust to the sensation of being stretched and filled.
“Oh, wow. Oh, god, Dean. You’re inside me,” he said, his whisper one of awe.
Dean shuddered, overwhelmed by the hot, incredibly tight clasp of Sam’s body around him. Sam’s legs gripped his sides, holding him with an easy strength that belied Sam’s gentle nature.
“Yes,” Dean said, his pulse racing too fast, his lungs unable to function properly. He was inside Sam, something he never thought would happen, and he thought his heart would burst from his chest, his happiness and astonishment were so great.
He couldn’t hold still anymore. Burying his hands in Sam’s hair, he bent his head and kissed him, then began moving in a slow, exploratory rhythm that had them both moaning into each other’s mouths.
Sam’s arms were wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, and as Dean began to move faster, his fingers dug into his back. Then Sam grabbed Dean’s ass and pulled him closer, trying to get him deeper.
“Fuck me harder,” he said gutturally, and mindlessly, Dean obeyed, thrusting hard and deep, with Sam urging him on with raw words of love and sex muttered darkly in his ear. “Stop holding back,” Sam insisted, and it was if Dean’s body were programmed to follow Sam’s command, for his hips jack-hammered, and he abandoned all thought in his pursuit of orgasm.
Oh, damn, damn, he wanted to savor this, to make it last longer, but the way Sam was moving under him, using his mouth and hands, he couldn't control himself. And Sam was talking again, saying things that made him feel like he'd just shot up, like he could do anything.
"God, Dean, it's so good. It's so- fuck, I'm gonna come again. Dean, I'm gonna- oh, god, Dean, I love y-"
And for the second time, Sam spurted his milky seed in a hot burst between them.
"-loveyouloveyouloveyou..." Sam said the words as a chant, lost in the throes of his orgasm, and Dean wasn't prepared for their effect. Lightning speared through his veins, and suddenly his climax crashed into him like a breakneck wave, again and again. He threw his head back, his hips plunging deep and rough as he felt his own seed burst out of him and into Sam, who through the lassitude of his own abated peak, said, "I can feel it in me, Dean. Your come. It's hot." Dean felt another wave slam through him at Sam's words. The spasms eventually subsided, and Dean noticed vaguely that sweat had gotten into his eyes, and that it also covered Sam in a fine sheen.
Slowly, spent, Dean collapsed onto him, and Sam tenderly cradled his body with his arms and legs. Only their breathing and heartbeats were audible, and Dean let the lethargy dissolve through him. Sam stroked Dean's back, then kissed his temple and fell asleep. That was such a prosaic thing to do that Dean almost laughed, but he lacked the energy, and instead followed suit with his penis still nestled deep inside Sam.
Neither brother saw or heard a quiet figure clad in a trench coat materialize, contemplate the vision of them lying entangled together, then just as quickly disappear with a soft sound of feathers rustling.
~~*~~*~~*~~
Dean had no idea how much time had passed, but the sun had shifted position by the time he woke, and he immediately became aware of Sam beneath him. Dean's heart gave a squeeze, and he swiftly grew hard within Sam's body.
Sam must have felt it or sensed that his brother was awake, because his breathing changed, and before he even opened his eyes, his thighs tightened around Dean's sides.
"Mmmmdean," he muttered, still half asleep. He lifted his mouth in search of Dean's, and Dean gave it to him, slanting his head and kissing him again with those deep, drugging kisses. Dean felt Sam's heartbeat quicken beneath his palm, and decided to explore his jaw, then his neck. His mouth led him downward until they encountered one of Sam's flat nipples. His tongue darted out and circled it before he took it gently between his teeth, then firmly sucked it into his mouth.
Sam grunted and slid his hands into Dean's hair, and Dean began slowly to thrust, going as deep as he could, searching for Sam's sweet spot again. He found it, drawing a moan from his brother. Deliberately, he nudged that spot again and again, making Sam whimper and clutch at his back. He released Sam’s nipple, then searched out the other one with his lips and gave it the same biting treatment as he had the other. His fingers toyed with the one he’d just let go, and the twin stimulation made Sam breathless.
He reared up then, and pulled Sam up until he was straddling Dean, and the angle and pressure of Sam’s body took Dean in to the hilt, and he once again encountered Sam’s prostate with the head of his penis.
Sam slid his hand between their bodies and reached for his hardening cock, but Dean intercepted him and forced his wrist back, winding it instead about his own back so Sam’s arms were around him. He lifted his head and gently sank his teeth into Sam’s chin, then brushed his lips against his jaw. Mercilessly, he continued his gentle rhythm, stroking Sam’s spot repeatedly. Sam’s legs began trembling, and Dean felt his own excitement building. The ceaseless pressure was working the head of his cock with an almost agonizing stimulation, and when Sam wildly dug his teeth into Dean’s shoulder, he almost lost control.
“Dean,” Sam begged. “Please, Dean. I can’t take it.”
“Yes, you can,” grated Dean in reply, his hips never missing a beat. He continued his ruthless torment of him and Sam both, drawing a helpless cry from Sam each time Dean nudged the hard little core of him. Sam moved his hips faster, trying unsuccessfully to control Dean’s pace before Dean gripped his waist and held him still.
Sam’s back arched and his whole body was shaking now, the pressure building and building until he finally tilted his head back and groaned loud and long. Sam’s orgasm poured through him like melted wax, and his semen erupted once more.
When his climax faded away, Sam pulled him down on top of him again where they both lay quiescent, sharing in more of those drowsy kisses. Time seemed to stop for a while; they were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t notice the golden rays of the dying sun lightly settle on them.
Finally, Dean lifted his head and stared down at his beautiful younger brother and stroked one soft cheek with his finger.
“We made love,” Dean said, still not completely able to believe it.
Sam made a sound of satisfaction. “Yes we did,” he agreed, lightly dragging his fingers up and down Dean’s back.
“What happens now, Sam?”
“Now?” echoed Sam. “Now, we take a shower. I have three loads of come on me, and you have plenty, too. After we shower, we get food. Then we go hunting, then we come back here and make love again.”
Dean smiled in mild amazement. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh?”
“At least as far as that.” Sam raised his head and kissed him, then pushed gently on his shoulders. “Shower. Now.”
Slowly, Dean withdrew his still-hard organ from Sam’s body and stood. He stretched lazily, and Sam’s eyes followed him, an appreciative smile on his face at the sight of Dean’s nude form. Then he stood as well, and padded over to the bathroom. Leaning down, he turned on the shower, then waited for the initial icy blast of water to warm up. Dean lounged naked against the doorway, watching his brother’s lithe movements.
“I’ve always loved you, Sammy,” Dean said suddenly.
Sam looked up at Dean’s reflection in the mirror. His eyes were wary. “Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye?” he asked, his voice low.
Dean’s eyes widened, and he stepped forward to envelop Sam in his arms from behind. “No,” he said in reassurance. He stroked Sam’s muscular chest and kissed the back of his neck, amazed that such gestures came so easily now. It almost felt like nothing had changed, except that everything had changed.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam. Not without you.” Sam let a pent-up breath escape him slowly. “I’ve just always loved you. And now…”
Sam met his eyes in the mirror. “Now…” he prompted.
“Now I feel like my heart is exploding. Like there are fireworks going on inside me, and it’s because you want me, too.”
Sam smiled his crooked smile and turned in Dean’s arms.
“You have no idea,” he said, and bent to kiss Dean’s mouth. The shower had started to steam up the tiny motel bathroom, and Sam pulled the curtain aside. “After you,” he said to Dean, and then followed him in.
With a hard kiss, Sam had Dean pinned against the tile wall. Then he grabbed the bar of soap and began to lather up. Briskly, he soaped up Dean’s chest, his slick fingers smoothing over hard muscles. Dean all but purred, suddenly again aware of his still-hard dick. Sam was aware of it too, his soapy hand finding it, wringing a groan from Dean as he very thoroughly washed him. He grabbed the shower head and turned it, watching as Dean’s sculpted chest and stomach were rinsed clean of all soap and sweat. He turned it back then, and fell to his knees. Full of want and adoration, his big eyes met Dean’s, and he grasped Dean in both his hands. His tongue darted out, catlike, and flicked the head of Dean’s over-sensitive penis.
Dean leaned against the wall for support as his knees turned to water. His breath bellowed in and out of his lungs, and he made a deep, dark sound in his chest as Sam’s warm, wet mouth opened and enveloped him. Dean’s hands slid into Sam’s wet hair. Despite the water coming from the pipes, Dean’s skin felt like it was on fire. Sam’s mouth was doing astonishing things to him, things it shouldn’t know how to do. His hands slid around Dean’s hips to grip his firm ass, and his fingers gently dug into the crevice between his buttocks, and Dean arched to him in response. It wasn’t long before he cried out, trying to ease Sam away from him, but Sam pushed his hands back. Eagerly, Sam sucked hard on the tip, his hand jerking Dean hard and fast, and Dean lost it. His orgasm swept through him like rain and he groaned loud and long, spurting into Sam’s mouth. Sam swallowed enthusiastically, his eyes closing in delight at the taste of him.
“Jesus, Sam, you learn fast,” Dean said, his voice rough.
Sam didn’t reply. It was impolite to talk with his mouth full.
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The Earth is Still Part of the Sky