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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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            “Hey Sam, I got a question.” From the back of the Impala a mop of brown hair perked up and hazel eyes looked questioningly at the back of his brother’s head. They had been driving for several hours now, nine to be exact, stopping now and then in towns they passed through to see if Lust had done her dirty work there as well and to alleviate some…stress.

Back in the motel, the space between them had been somewhat comfortable and gave them both a chance to gain an adequate distance from one another to stay off certain urges. In the small space of the Impala, however, it was maddening. Having the other so close yet so far away, being constantly aware of the others presence that it was almost palpable, had both of them on edge. It was why Sam had been ‘banished’ to the back seat of the car.

In the first few hours behind the wheel Dean had almost ran the car off the road numerous times; either from staring at Sam in longing, or him catching Sam doing it, or from both their hands finding their way into some compromising areas with neither of them sure how they got there. Dean hadn’t been complaining about how their bodies seemed to have minds of their own, especially when Sam’s decided to palm his crotch through his jeans or rub his thigh sensually, until he had almost ran off the road and into a fence post. So for their safety, and his baby’s, Dean had told Sam at the last gas station after they had filled up, stocked up, and zipped up that it might be best for Sam to relocate and create some illusion of personal space in the car.

Now that he was up here by himself though, he was kind of lonely. Sam always rode shoot gun. That was his spot. The seat practically had an imprint of Sam’s ass in it from where he sat there day in and day out. It killed Dean a little on the inside when he would look over to ask Sam something and he wasn’t there. Just one more thing this bitch had ruined for them.

“Yeah Dean?” Sam asked curiously from the back.

“I was wonderin’, how did…I mean how….when…Aw goddamn it, how did you get so good at suckin’ cock?!” Dean finally blurted out and blushing at the blunt, provocative question. He shouldn’t have asked, but it had been bugging him since the first time Sam took his cock in his mouth. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t the curse. He doubted that he suddenly had magic cock sucking skills, so where did it come from?

Sam blushed five times as red and began to fidget in his seat uncomfortably.

“Oh…um…it…it was back at Stanford.” He admitted nervously. Sam had hoped to never have to tell anyone this sordid bit of information to anyone, especially Dean. He had always wanted his brother’s approval and admiration. God only knew how he would react if he found out that little Sammy sucked dick like a back alley whore for almost a year.

“Seriously? What about Jessica?”

“It was before Jessica. It was my freshman year.”

“You were gay your freshman year?”

            “No, my roommate was.”

            “Wait, what?” Dean furrowed his brow back at Sam through the rearview and Sam sighed audibly from the back.

            “My freshman year was…rough. Dad kicked me out, wouldn’t talk to me. You barely spoke to me because you were scared Dad would find out or were too busy pullin’ a job. I was…lonely I guess. New school, new town, and it’s not like I had plans to move in a month like we always had. It was a whole new experience for me. I got really close with my roommate Brian. We did almost everything together; studied, ate, played video games, went to parties. I’d never been a hard drinker until then and I guess since I was kind of depressed about everything I let myself get stupid a lot. It got to the point that I was getting blitz almost twice a week and when I was drunk Brain….suggested thing. We never had sex, at least I don’t think so, but that stuff yeah that happened a lot.” Sam said evenly, with an immense calm that surprised him.

            From behind the steering wheel, Dean was not so calm. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was a little concerned that he was going to break the wheel with how hard he was gripping it. But in the forefront was white hot rage. “Damn it Sam! Why didn’t you say anything?! Why didn’t you stop him?!” Dean yelled, having to remember that he couldn’t turn around to yell because he was driving.

            Someone had touched his Sammy. His Sammy! No one else’s! Someone had taken advantage of his brother’s gentle, friendly nature and happy drunk disposition and used it against him, his Sam. Somewhere on the list of things Dean wanted to do before he died he added kill Brian…whoever for ever having the gull, no the audacity, to touch, to use, his Sammy like that; like he was some cheap whore. His Sam was no cheap whore; he was no one’s whore! He was his Sammy damnit!

“Well me being smashed and not wanting to lose my almost only friend I went along. It’s not like it was all bad. I mean, it felt good. The reciprocation on my part kind of sucked at first, no pun intended, but the rest of it was good. The kissing wasn’t that great though. I was usually too drunk to do it right.”

“He kissed you!” Dean did whip around for a second at that one. Oh, this bastard was going to pay! Dean realized that he shouldn’t be so mad about kissing. That on the grand scale it was small compared to blow jobs and possible fucking, but to him it wasn’t. Kissing made it personal, made it intimate, and for Dean to think of Sam kissing anyone else made him almost physically ill. Sam’s kisses were for him damnit! Because Sam was his and no one else’s!

Dean screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, he tried to right his brain into thinking rational thought. Stupid curse putting thought and feelings in his head!

Wait. He wasn’t…jealous was he? No! He had no right to be jealous. Sam wasn’t his, no matter what his anger, curse induced brain thought. Well…he was, kind of. Sam was his brother. He was his to protect, to foster, to love, but in a brotherly sense of the word of course. He didn’t own Sam. Sam could be with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Hell Dean took that liberty more often than Sam did and Sam wasn’t jealous. Was he? No! It’s not like they were together or anything. This was just the curse. He wasn’t jealous! He just wanted to kill this guy for taking advantage of Sammy. That was all. It had nothing to do with him touching Sam or him kissing Sam or him being with Sam. No never!

“So what happened to him?” Did he fall of a cliff? Get hit by a car? Have his dick fall off by some gross flesh eating virus?

“He stopped asking not long after spring semester started.”

“Why did he get bored with you?” Dean asked, but scoffed mentally at the question. Who would ever get bored with Sam? He was so full of life, so enigmatic, so....everything. Dean had been with him for his entire life mostly, and he never tired of being around Sam. ‘Goddamnit! Stupid curse is turning me into some sappy girl!’ Dean cursed venomously as these “girly” thoughts raced through his head about how Sammy was so wonderful and perfect and hot and sexy and ‘Goddamnit!!’

“No, I mean…I don’t know. The last time it happened I was pretty fucked up and I’m not really sure what happened, but….I think I said the wrong name.” Dean laughed out loud at Sam’s confession.

“Ahahahaha! So what happened?! Did you moan so chick’s name when he was giving you head?” Served the bastard right!

“I don’t know, like I said I was really fucked up.”

“So how do you know you did it?” Dean questioned.

“He told me. Look, Dean, I really don’t want to talk about this with you. Can we just drop it please?” Sam said fidgeting nervously in the back seat with a visible blush staining his cheeks.

Well…maybe only half nervous.

Because on closer inspection through the rearview Dean noticed that Sam’s story time had had an interesting effect on the younger Winchester. Now that Dean thought about it, blotting out the douche antagonist, so was he. “What’s the matter Sammy? Is this story hard for you to tell?”

“Shut up Dean.” Sam muttered up from the back.

“It’s just a simple question Sam. Are you having a hard time thinking about all the dick you used to suck back in college?”

“Dean…” Sam’s voice was low and held a warning. But Dean did not heed.

“No, come on Sam, tell me. Are you getting all hot and bothered thinking about all that stuff you did with that guy? Is it making you hard Sammy? Cause I am.” Dean wasn’t sure where these words were coming from. It was like his mouth was moving on its own and these filthy things just kept tumbling out in this heated tone that Dean usually reversed for women behind bars or in skank motel rooms.

“Dean….” This time Dean’s name was said in a harsh gasp instead of a harsh scold that filled up the car with heat from the back. In the front, Dean smirked. Where ever these words were coming from, Sam seemed to like it. And Dean, being the good big brother who never wanted to deny his little brother anything he enjoyed, kept talk as his lips continued to have a mind of their own.

“Am I right Sammy? I am aren’t I. You don’t have to say it. I can see your hard on from here. Fuck I could probably see it from outer space! I got another question Sammy. Who are you thinkin’ about back there while you’re playin’ pocket pool back there hn? Is it me? Am I the one that you’re thinking about blowing instead of some fuckin’ nobody who wouldn’t have a chance with someone like you unless they got you drunk to even the odds? Tell me Sam, who fucks you better? Whose name do you want to be screaming when you come? Who’s the person you’re jerking off to through your pants right now while I’m talking to you?”

“Dean!” Sam cried out loudly and his head fell forward against the back of the front seats, panting as his hand massaged the front of his jeans roughly. The friction from the rough denim through his boxer brief driving him crazy.

“That’s what I thought.” Dean said and with a sharp jerk of the wheel an angry cloud of gravel and dust kicked up from the side of the road at having been disturbed so suddenly.

Sam’s head popped up from the leather seats, lust drunk eyes looking around confused as to what was going on. He barely registered a pair of doors opening and closing quickly before Dean had seemingly materialized beside him in the back, hands were gripped the side of Sam’s face as Dean’s tongue was shoved down his throat in a furiously passionate kiss. Whatever was going on Sam didn’t care anymore. All that matter was clinging back on to Dean like Dean clung to him, hands gripping at body parts and clothes, his tongue trying to gain purchase in Dean’s mouth like Dean’s had found in his, the tormenting grind of his pelvis against Dean’s as their cocks rubbed against each other through their jeans in failing attempt to relieve some of the pressure. Nothing else matter. Only this did. Only this feeling of intense need and Dean was all that existed of the world in Sam’s mind. What a blissful, agonizing world it had become.

It wasn’t long before kissing and groping wasn’t enough for the lust crazed boys, and clothes were being moved or removed in order to gain more purchase on skin and bodily contact.

“You like that Sammy?” Dean said in a heated pant against the column of Sam’s neck where he had just licked as one hand pushed Sam’s undershirt up to his clavicle and the other tormented a hard nipple that blemished the younger Winchester’s perfectly smooth chest. The sinful arch that Sam did in response was enough of an answer to tell Dean ‘yes’, but that wasn’t good enough. “Come on Sam. You have to tell me. If you don’t tell me if you like it then how do I know to keep doing it?” Dean asked wickedly, switching to the other dusty pebble as if to prove a point.

Sam’s back bowed again and his mouth fell open with a moan as he cried, “God Dean! Yes! Yes, I like it! Ok?! Just don’t stop!”

“So demanding Sammy is today. Maybe I should give you a spanking like I did when you were little and threw temper tantrums?” Dean suggested, before laving Sam’s hard chest with his tongue.

“It….It’s Sam, and don’t even think about it!” Sam’s warning was cut off with something a keen to a moan mixed with a sort of squeak as Dean’s hand had somehow managed to make its way passed his jeans and briefs without being detected.

While one hand stroked Sam’s cock in an almost painfully slow, gentle stroke and the other busied itself with caressing Sam’s partially exposed body, Dean sat back on his haunches and thought critically while he stared lustfully at the brunette’s expressive reactions. They had to have sex. They had to have sex now! So much for rule number three on the list of ‘acceptable-things-to-do-while-cursed-to-want-to-constantly-fuck-your-brother’ that Dean and Sam had agreed upon before leaving the motel. Oh, well, straying from only giving each other blow jobs and handys just this once was going to kill anyone right?

But back to the matter at hand of Dean needed to fuck Sam right now.

Dean had had sex in the Impala before, but not often. The Impala was sacred. You didn’t have sex in a church, so why you have sex all willy-nilly in the black metal sanctuary. That would be sacrilege! Also, it was kind of hard to pull off. For all that Dean loved about his baby, from her chrome bumpers to the lint crushed into the floor board carpeting, she wasn’t much for excess space. It was a challenge to maneuver himself and whatever bimbo he had seduced into the back into a comfortable position that allowed for both of them to achieve the maximum amount to pleasure. Let it never be said that Dean Winchester was not a gracious, generous lover. For all of his conquest, he took his role as “provider” very seriously and treated each one like they were the only one for that moment in time.

In this present moment, however, Dean was having a serious problem figured how to pull this off. Sam was by no means the same as a petite girl, or even a regular girl, that Dean was used to dealing with. He was all man, all limbs, and all sorts of tall that made it impossible for him to even sit in the car sometimes let alone stretch out in any way. This is gonna be a challenge, Dean thought. But Dean Winchester was never one to turn down a challenge.

Thinking for a moment longer before his face blossomed into a devious smirk, Dean leaned over the younger man’s body until he hovered mere centimeters from the other’s body; just enough space to make them both hyper aware of the other and drive them both crazy with the lack of actual touch.

“Sam, hey Sammy, turn over for me ok.” Sam’s eyes opened heavily and looked at Dean through a fuzzy haze before he did what he was told. He was too gone to question. Too much in need to wonder what was going to happen to him. All he knew was that whatever it was it was going to be good. “That’s it, good Sammy. I need you to roll down the window ok. Don’t want you to bash your head against it when I’m fucking you like this.” Dean said, a low chuckled rumbling through his chest, hands never having left Sam even as he moved carefully into a position on all fours.

Sam moaned low, both from the continued gentle touching and the sinuous words spoke near his ear. Blindly he did what he was told. The cold early March air bringing the inside of the car down a few degrees, but doing nothing to sate the heat between the boys.

“God, Sam. You’re so fucking hot right now. I bet you’d do anything have my cock in you right now, wouldn’t you? Probably so close you can’t even see straight.” Dean felt a shutter pass through him that matched Sam’s as these words left his mouth. He couldn’t stop them and he really didn’t want to. It really was fucking hot. Seeing Sam’s reaction to him, the way he brought him to his knees, so to speak. Later Dean would blame it all on the curse. After all, he had never been a big talker during sex before. This just had to do what was between him and Sam.

“Dean….” And later, when Sam thought about this, he would blame the curse for whine that escaped him that urged Dean to hurry up. After all, Sam had never begged for sex before, let alone begged to be fucked hard up the ass. This just had to do what was between him and Dean.

“There, there Sammy, it’s ok. I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you don’t I?” Dean asked, sounding far too cocky for Sam, and he would have glared over his shoulder at him had he not been pressed against Sam’s back and nipping those straight, white teeth against the back of his neck.

“It…It’s S-Sam…!” The younger Winchester head fell with a thud against the open window panel as one of Dean’s fingers, slick with his own pre-come, magically appeared inside him.

“What was that Sammy? I didn’t quite catch that.” Dean smirked against Sam’s neck as he added another digit and fingered his hole to open wider. He did always love to taunt Sam. The fact that he couldn’t fight back just made it more amusing. The fact that he couldn’t fight back because he was too busy moaning and practically fucking himself on Dean’s hand just made it incredibly hot.

“Uh…Dean! Come on man….I-I can’t do this much more….! Come on….” Sam looked over his shoulder, eyes pleading and lust blown, locking with Dean’s. His knees and back hurt in this position. It was too hot and stifling uncomfortable in the small space. If it wasn’t for the intense need to be fucked right now, Sam would have called the whole thing off a while ago. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t worth it.

Seeing his brother practically undone and begging in front of him, Dean decided to show some mercy and stop teasing him. He needed Sam too right now. He was actually surprised he held out this long from how badly he wanted, needed, to be in Sam right now.

With a swift hand, Dean yanked Sam’s jeans down hard, the denim bunching to the back of his thighs. He spat in his palm and slicked up his cock, though he really didn’t need to with the way it was leaking, and drove it deep inside the willing body in front of him in one fail swoop.

The initial breach was a bit much for both of them. They moaned in unison for different reasons, long and loud, sparing just a moment to get over the shock before starting to move.

“Oh God, Sammy, fuck! You feel so fucking good Sam. Look so fucking hot too! God, no one else better see you like this. No one but me!” Dean was surprised he had the coherent mind to keep talking. It did feel good. Better than just good. It felt amazing, like everything in the universe had righted itself for this one blinding moment when he and Sam were connected. He blamed the curse. Dean didn’t think such girly things while fucking. He especially didn’t think of Sam.

Sam thought, in some portion of his mind that hadn’t completely escaped him, though where that was he wasn’t sure, that he probably looked ridiculous. Clutching the door of the Impala in a white knuckle grip, head bobbing in and out of the open window in time with Dean’s thrust, with this probably retarded expression on his face of his eyes screwed shut while incoherent jargon spilled out of his slack jawed mouth into the middle of nowhere their car happened to be.

But where ever that somewhere in his head was that he thought about this, he honestly could muster the strength to care. Dean was right, it did feel good. Felt amazing. Because it was Dean. It was Dean who was fucking him so good his eyes rolled back. It was Dean touching him like he was the greatest, most precious thing in the whole world. It was Dean who kept telling him how hot he was like this, that Sam was his, who growled ‘mine’ in his ear before biting that spot just behind it that made him buck harder against Dean. Because it was Dean, who he trusted, loved, would do anything for, it made everything so much better than in the past when he had conceded to try and feel the space that leaving had left in him.

“Shit, fuck…Dean I’m…I’m gonna…uhn!”

“Yeah, I know Sam. I can practically feel your about to pop. God, you grip my dick any tighter in that hot ass of yours you’re gonna take it off! And then where would we be, hn? Who’d fuck you good then Sammy? Or would you start doing the fucking, little bro?”

“Dean!” Sam’s whole body somehow managed to convulse and lock up at the same time as his come splattered against the soft, leather seats.

“Shit! Fuckin’…Damnit!” The make shift sentence of curses was ripped from Dean’s mouth as Sam gripped him vice tight and milked him for all he was worth as he too came.

The brothers collapsed in an awkward sort of heap across the back as they took a moment to catch their breath and readjust to the encroaching reality that was starting to sink in.

“You’re cleanin’ that up by the way.” Dean said, the words slightly muffled by Sam’s damp hair from where his face had landed. If Sam hadn’t been so tired and sated he would have rolled his eyes or scoffed at his brother. Instead he just shrugged his body and muttered,

“Get off. You’re heavy.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?” Dean said, pretending to be offended, but with a small smile on his lips that surprised him. He chalked up his good nature and ease of the situation to having an awesome orgasm mere moments ago. In a minute, he surmised, he’d realized what they had done and the guilt and disgusted would settle in, but….not right now. For right now, he just wanted to bask in this moment with Sam where things weren’t weird and he didn’t have to think or be confused or wonder about what would happen in the future when this was all said and done. Right now, he just wanted to be close to his brother, figuratively speaking.

“No, I’m not saying your fat, but it might not hurt ‘ca to maybe eat a salad or some fruit instead of those greasy heart attacks on a bun that you’re oh so found of.” Sam smirked a little against the plush upholstery and moved his arm just a fraction to fake elbow Dean in the ribs. He was ok with this too for right now. No need to rush back to reality when reality sucked even more than usual.

“That’s ok Sam. You can eat the chick food. After all you’re the one that’s the girl in our relationship.” Dean snickered as he tried to block Sam’s assault. It wasn’t easy to hit someone when they were behind you, let alone on top of you. Dean made a mental note to keep that in mind for the future.

When the moment was over, Dean’s face and shoulder sagged. He sighed quietly to himself as he got off Sam and stuffed himself back in his pants before righting his clothes that got rustled in the fray. He made another mental note to stop at the next rest station they saw so they could clean themselves up properly. Dean’s skin and pants were sticky. He was sure Sam was much worse than he was in that department too. “Hey Sam,” The younger Winchester stopped trying to smooth back his mussed hair and looked over at his brother who sat limp next to him in the backseat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of….I mean I should of….” Sam sighed quietly to himself. He thought he would have at least a little bit more time before the awkwardness settled in.

“It’s ok Dean. It’s not like we have any control over this.”

“I know, but I should be better Sam. It’s my job to protect you and to look out for you. Not to keep hurting you and taking advantage of you like that fucking cunt back at school.” Dean sneered and glared angry at his hands clenched on top of his thighs. He should be better! He should be stronger! He should fight this, do more, not be selfish! Just because he wanted it didn’t mean that he could just use Sam like he was nothing! His Sammy was everything. He deserved so much better than Dean.

Sam placed a gentle hand on top of Dean’s clenched one. “Dean it’s ok. It’s not the same.” He said reassuringly.

“It’s not that different is it though Sammy. I keep hurting you. I can’t stop myself from hurting you.” Dean admitted, disgusted more by this than the actual act that he claimed.

“You’re not hurting me Dean, seriously.” True, Sam’s ass soft of hurt from the sex, his legs were painfully tingly from being asleep, and his back hurt from the position he was in, but he wasn’t in any real pain. In fact, he felt….good. A lot better than he had in a while actually. “I’m really ok Dean, stop beating yourself up about this. I know that this…that it’s not….look I know that this is weird and awkward and really messed up even for us, but we’ll get through it. Stop worrying about me, ok Dean? I’ll be fine. I swear. I’d tell you if I wasn’t you know that, right Dean?” Dean looked over at Sam with sad green eyes. See that was the problem for Dean. He knew Sam wouldn’t.

His Sammy would do anything to make Dean happy, do anything for him not to worry.

He remembers when Sam saved up every penny he ever made or found for over a month so he could buy Dean a vinyl, collectors copy of The Wall for his birthday when he had gone through his Pink Floyd obsession. He even hocked his .22 for it, but Dean bought it back for him. He remembers when Sam spent an entire week with three broken ribs and didn’t tell anyone because he didn’t want Dean to have to worry or get in trouble with Dad for him getting hurt under Dean’s watch. If Dean hadn’t slapped him on the back one day he probably never would have found out. Sam would have just sat there in quiet agony with a smile on his face while Dean watched oblivious.

It’s one of the things he loved and hated about Sam. Sam loved and cared for him so much that he was willing to put himself second just so Dean could be happy. Why did anyone think that Sam suffered through all that crap diner food, skank bars, and long night banished to the Impala while Dean had a quicky? Because it made Dean happy, and if Dean was happy, Sam would be happy.

“Yeah Sam, I know. But just tell me if something’s wrong ok.” And because it made Sam happy, Dean would pretend to believe him. Sam wasn’t the only one ok with letting themselves play second fiddle if it made his brother happy.

Sam smiled. “Ok. Chick flick moment over?”

“Chick flick moment over.” Dean confirmed and moved to return to his placed behind the wheel.

“Can we stop at a gas station or somethin’ in a bit? I, uh, kinda need to get cleaned up.” Sam said, a shy blush staining his cheeks as he shifted uncomfortably in the back seat. Dean smiled faintly as the Impala roared back to life and he steered her back on the road.

“Sure Sam, whatever makes you happy.”

Ok, wow. I never expected people to like this story so much. Just….wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you to everyone who faved, reviewed, and added me/this story to their watch lists! It makes me happy!

As always, all reviews and feedback are appreciated. Courteous critics only please. Flames will be laughed at whole heartedly.
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Lust for Revenge