Burn it to the Ground Part Two

[grianchloch]

Back to Part One It was late when they got back to Pittsburgh, so they headed straight for Brian’s place. Justin opened the door to the loft. He was polite, inviting them in and explaining that Brian wasn’t home, but Dean saw the way he glanced at Sam, and knew how he must be feeling. If Justin and Brian were involved, and given he was at Brian’s place with textbooks and notebooks spread out over the dining table Dean thought it was obvious that they were, Sam probably wasn’t Justin’s favourite person. Dean looked around as Justin went to get them drinks. It was the kind of place he'd imagined Sam living if he’d followed his dreams and become a lawyer. A sleek, well ordered place with little room for salt at the windows and weapons littering the tables. The sort of place Sam would have lived for a few years before he and most likely Jess moved to the suburbs to raise their 2.4 children in a light and airy house with a garden with tall trees, far, far away from demons and darkness and Dean ... "Dean." Sam nudged him out of his waking nightmare. “Brian’s not here ..” “I know,” Dean grinned, not even trying to hide how relieved he was. He took the beer Justin offered with a smile and sprawled on the couch. “... so we need to go look for him,” Sam finished, rolling his eyes at Dean’s obvious glee at Brian’s absence. There was a knock at the door, and Dean could hear voices having an animated conversation outside. Justin seemed relieved that more people meant he wouldn’t have to make small talk with Sam. He headed to the door and opened it to let Emmett, Michael and Ted into the loft. “Hey, it’s the press.” Ted smirked. “So did you get what you wanted from Dominic?” Michael asked. “Uh, yes, he was very informative. Thanks for the tip,” Sam answered as Emmett settled himself down on the couch next to Dean. “You really think that someone from back then is involved? Wouldn’t they be, well, ancient by now?” Emmett asked Dean. “Yeah, I suppose.” Dean looked up at Sam, and nodded in the direction of the door, but the questions continued. “Why were you curious about Byron? Didn’t he die in the fire?” “Turns out that he didn’t.” Sam turned to Michael. “He was injured in the fire, badly burned, but he died of old age a few months ago.” “When, exactly?” Ted queried. Sam sighed. “Twenty seventh of April. We should be going, we need to talk to Brian ...” “The day before the first murder?” Emmet glanced from Dean to Sam and back again. “So why would you be interested in him? It’s not like he could have anything to do with it.” “Unless his ghost decided to haunt Babylon for real,” Michael smirked. Silence fell across the room, as Sam and Dean glanced at each other warily and the others looked at each other with wide eyes. Then everyone began to talk at once. “A real life ghost?” Ted burst out laughing. “First reporters, now ghost hunters Who the hell are you guys really?” “Technically, a ghost wouldn’t be alive,” Michael pointed out helpfully to Ted. “Ghost? That’s funny. Dean? Time to go.” “Yeah, it’s hilarious. So, we’ll see you all later. Thanks for the hospitality,” Dean nodded at Justin and stood up. “Wait, do you think it’s a ghost?” Emmett put his hand on Dean’s arm “What? No, of course not,” Dean blustered. “Is Brian in danger?” Justin’s softly spoken question cut through the confusion. “We think he is,” Sam answered. “Then it doesn’t matter if it’s a ghost or a man or a fucking unicorn, we need to warn him.” Justin grabbed his jacket and keys and headed for the door. “Do you know where he’ll be?” Dean asked as he followed him. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” As they all made their way to the club, Dean listened to the group of men talk, and they reminded him of himself and Sam, the way they snarked and bickered, but still had that affection for each other underneath it all. And he had to admit that they weren’t a bad bunch of civilians to hang around with. Emmett, Justin, Michael, even Ted, they were all so, well, nice, Dean thought. Well, apart from Brian. Brian wasn’t nice. He was most likely a demon sent to tempt Sam away from him. Yeah, that was most likely the case. Dean smiled at the thought of sending Brian’s ass straight to hell, and if he wasn’t a demon, well, he was still a brother stealing bastard and that had to be reason enough to damn him. “What are you smirking about?” Sam asked as he poked Dean in the ribs. “Nothing.” Dean grinned again, then tried to get his head back in the game. No matter how much he might dislike Brian, he supposed he didn’t really deserve to be ganked by some ghost. He was easy enough to find when they got there, dancing with a couple of tall, attractive men. He abandoned his temporary companions when he saw them come in, but after he’d squeezed Justin’s ass on the way past, he made a beeline for Sam. Dean watched through narrowed eyes as Brian whispered into Sam’s ear and made him blush. Sam’s eyes darted to Justin, who shrugged his shoulders and walked away and onto the dance floor. Guiltily, and with a brief backward glance in Dean’s direction, Sam let Brian lead him through the dancers to the middle of the throng. “So you still haven’t made your move?” Emmett sounded disappointed. “No, and I’m not going to. I told you, it’s complicated.” “Hmm, at least you’re over the denial. You know, from where I’m standing, it looks like Sam’s trying to make you jealous.” “Yeah?” Dean considered that, but there was no way Sam could possibly be interested, so that couldn’t be true. Yet when he looked over to where Sam was dancing, he glanced over at Dean and held his gaze for a moment. “Huh,” Dean pondered, and noticed Justin dancing not far from where Brian was now mauling Sam. “So what’s the deal with Brian and Justin?” he asked Emmett “Justin’s the closest thing Brian has to a boyfriend. Brian doesn’t do boyfriends, but Justin’s managed to get under his skin. Doesn’t stop Brian from hooking up, though,” Emmett explained. “Really?” Dean considered that for a moment before putting his drink down on the bar. “Well in that case, he won’t mind if I dance with him.” Dean peeled off his shirt to reveal a skin tight white wife beater. Emmett gasped in appreciation and Dean winked at him, draping his discarded shirt over Emmett’s shoulder. He pushed through the crowd to where Justin was dancing alone, not too far from Brian and Sam. Dean’s heart was beating fast as he approached the blond and he ran a hand down Justin’s arm as he circled him, completely ignoring the couple who had been his focus for most of the night, and concentrating all his energies on Justin. “I know what you’re doing.” Justin stared at Dean, but he kept moving to the music. “You do?” “Mm hm. You’re trying to make your friend jealous.” “Friend? Oh, my ‘friend’. Well no, I’m not. Really,” Dean reassured as he danced closer, skimming his hands down Justin’s sides as the younger man danced with his arms above his head. They came to rest on Justin’s hips and Justin snaked his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s heart practically hammered in his chest at the totally alien experience of having a man in his arms, an experience that was growing hotter by the minute. Justin looked up at him through his long lashes, intent on kissing the oh so pouty lips that were dangerously close to his own but at the look in Deans eyes, realization dawned and he pulled him closer instead, nipping on his earlobe and whispering in his ear. “You’ve never done this before, have you? Never even kissed a guy.” “Nope.” Dean’s answer dissolved into a groan as Justin pushed against him and he could feel how aroused Justin was. Justin pulled back and slowly raised his eyes to meet Dean's. His lips were parted and looked so moist and inviting that Dean couldn't help himself and he pressed his mouth lightly against Justin's. He'd thought it would be different, but really, kissing was kissing and Dean caught on to that fast. He dug his fingers into Justin's soft hair and held him still while his tongue explored the younger man's mouth and Justin groaned, spurring him on. The kiss became harder, hotter as Justin wrapped his arms around Dean and Dean got swept up in the passion of the moment. As they slowly pulled apart, Justin stared at him, wide eyed. "You sure you've never kissed a guy before?" "I'm sure," Dean grinned. He glanced up, and found himself staring straight into Sam's eyes which were wide with shock. Dean couldn't help feeling slightly smug that he'd managed to shock Sam. The look on Brian's face was priceless. He glared at Dean, and stalked off through the dancers. Justin smiled at Dean and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to go and find him.” “Sure,” Dean grinned, jumping when he felt a hand on his shoulder, which turned out to be Sam’s. “What was that all about?” Sam loomed over Dean, frowning. “You jealous, Sammy?” Dean smirked. “What? No! You were all up in my face about Brian, and then you kiss Justin?” Sam was buffeted closer to Dean by the dancers around them. Dean shrugged. “I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.” “Really?” “Yeah, really.” Dean glanced around as he continued to dance, eying up another blond and winking at him. Sam put his hand on Dean’s arm to get his attention and glared at him again. “What, Sam?” Dean put a hand on Sam’s neck and pulled him closer so he could whisper in his ear. “I can’t have some fun?” Sam almost growled, slipping his hands onto Dean’s waist, and staring him down as they moved together. Dean raised his eyebrows, thrown by the signals he was getting from his brother. Sam was pissed at him, and, if they hadn’t been related, and Dean hadn’t known that there was no way Sam was interested in him, he would have been sure that Sam was jealous, and was also about to stake a claim. Dean looked up at him, wide eyed, and slowly put his hands on Sam’s shoulders, fingers playing with the soft hair at the back of his neck. Sam pulled him closer, none too gently, and Dean had to bite back a gasp. He looked up into Sam’s eyes, and involuntarily arched his back in reaction to the desire he saw in them. This was Sam, but this was new, and scary, and shouldn’t feel right, but all Dean wanted was to kiss his brother hard and be the one to make him moan. The club, the music, the dancers, everything was forgotten as Sam bent his head, and Dean tilted his face up to meet him. “Dean! Oh!” Emmett exclaimed as he shook Dean’s shoulder, and the moment was gone. Sam let go as if he’d been burned, and Dean rounded on Emmett, about to tear him a new one until he saw the panic on his face. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but Brian’s missing.” “Missing? I thought Justin was with him.” “No, Justin couldn’t find him. We’ve looked everywhere. He’s not in the club, and he’s not answering his cell.” Dean swore under his breath and the three of them took off towards the table Michael and Ted were anxiously sitting at. Dean pulled his shirt back on, and picked up his jacket. “We’ll head back to the loft, you stay here in case he comes back,” Dean ordered the others. “No,” Justin shook his head. “I’m coming with you.” “I’ll stay, just in case he comes back,” Ted suggested, which earned him a glare from Michael. “Fine,” he grumbled and pulled on his jacket. “Great,” Dean hissed at Sam as they left, their entourage in tow. “An audience.” Brian let the stranger into the loft, closing the door behind them. He whimpered as he was pushed up against the wall and long, elegant fingers began to undo his shirt. Brian had been on his way to the bar, pissed at the way Justin had looked after Dean had kissed him, when he’d passed a man who was over dressed for partying at Babylon. The man’s thumb had grazed the back of his hand, and Brian found himself turning and looking into dark, predatory eyes. The stranger had touched his hand again, and Brian had willingly led the way out of the club and back to his home, want clouding his mind. The world around Brian was hazy. All he knew was that he wanted the elegant man, wanted to be fucked by him, which wasn’t something Brian often wanted. “Yes,” Brian hissed as blunt nails scraped across his nipples and as he gasped, a warm mouth covered his. But the taste was wrong. Justin tasted fresh, almost sweet, and Sam had tasted like smoky whiskey, but this taste was edged with a sourness that Brian didn’t like. He tried to pull away, but the man held him fast, pinning him to the wall with a hand on his chest. The spot where skin met skin was heating up fast, and Brian shook his head to try and gain some clarity. “What did you say your name was?” “Byron.” The man grinned, but now when Brian looked at him, his skin was sagging, almost melting in places, and as his face began to rot away, Brian began to scream. The door burst open, and a shotgun blast rang out, followed by screaming as Emmett almost fainted at the sight of the ghost, and Michael and Ted grabbed hold of each other and tried to run back out of the door at the same time. Byron snarled as the salt hit him and disintegrated, leaving Brian to slump back against the wall. Justin ran forward to where Brian was sliding down to the floor. He raised his lover’s head up so he could look him in the eyes. “Sorry,” Brian mumbled. Justin kissed him on the forehead and helped him to his feet. “What just happened?” Ted asked from behind Michael. “That was the ghost of Norman Arthur, also known as Byron Mercer. Like we said before, he didn’t die in the fire. He was disfigured, so he let everyone think that he had, but once he did die, he came back. Looks like he was taking his revenge on narcissists like himself. Those who could have whoever they wanted,” Dean explained. “So that’s it? You shot him with ...?” Brian asked. “Rock salt,” Dean supplied helpfully. “Right, rock salt. And he’s back to being dead?” “Sorry, but it’s not that easy. Now I have to dig up his grave and salt and burn his bones, or since he’s only been dead for three months, his still squishy corpse.” There were cries of “Eeeeew”, and “Gross!”. “It’s gonna be too late now to get to the graveyard and get it done before sun up, so it’ll have to be tomorrow night. We’ll stay here, keep an eye on Brian in case Byron comes back.” “We’ll all stay,” Emmett suggested, looking over at Michael, who nodded in agreement. ‘Do what you like, I’m going to bed.” Brian turned to go, but Dean caught a hold of his arm. “You can sleep out here, with the others, that way we can watch everyone.” Brian wrenched his arm away. “You can all have your slumber party out here, but I’m going to sleep in my bed,” he growled and reached for Justin. He stopped in the doorway to the bedroom when he realized that Dean was following them. “Where do you think you’re going?” “In there, with you,” Dean explained. “Unless you want to risk Byron’s ghost coming back by yourself.” He saw the slightest shiver run through Brian and realized that no matter what kind of front he was putting on, he’d been badly shaken by the attack. He watched as Justin touched Brian’s arm, coaxing Brian to look at him, and Justin gave him the same puppy eyes that Sam had used on Dean countless times. “Fine,” Brian agreed with a roll of eyes. “But I’m getting the big couch.” Dean helped them bring the blankets and pillows into the living room, muttering to Sam on the way past. “Someone better be buying me breakfast in the morning for this.” ~*~*~*~*~*~ The following night Emmett, Michael and Ted met Dean just before midnight at the west gate of St Mary's Cemetery. A routine salt and burn it wasn’t, not with three civilians in tow who were both overly enthusiastic and at the same time jumpy and scared out of their wits. Emmett and Michael had brought iron pokers with them that they’d picked up at a hardware store, and grinned when Dean nodded his approval, glad they’d taken in at least some of what he’d told them over breakfast at the diner about hunting ghosts. Before they got there, Dean had found an easy way in for them that thankfully didn’t involve climbing over railings. The last thing he wanted was anybody getting impaled. He handed out the salt and spades to his three helpers, and carried the gasoline himself. They crept through the dark and quiet night towards the spot Dean had checked out earlier when it had still been light. It was deep enough in that they were unlikely to be disturbed, but all the same, he was eager to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Dean explained what they had to do then he started digging, while Michael, Emmett and Ted took turns at digging and being lookouts. The soil was heavy with clay and it was hard going. Dean stripped down to his t shirt, and Emmett did the same, giving his spot up to Michael so he could flop under a tree and get his breath back. Just as Dean and Michael finished digging, a pale figure walked towards them through the trees. “Um, Dean!” Emmet hissed. “We’ve got company.” Dean’s head popped up from the grave like a startled mere cat, but his eyes narrowed as the man approached. He looked like he’d walked off a 1940s movie set, hair slicked back, handsome features, and wearing a sharp tuxedo. “It’s Byron,” Dean warned them, and at the sound of his name, the ghost turned towards Dean and snarled, the handsome mask slipping to reveal his scarred face. Ted screamed, but Emmet remembered what Dean had told them to do, and swiped at Byron with the iron poker he’d brought along. The ghost snarled and disappeared. “Good, Em, keep him off our backs!” Dean slammed his foot down on the top of the coffin, and pulled the broken wood away. “Out!” He yelled at Michael, and the man scrambled out, closely followed by Dean, who began sprinkling salt and lighter fluid onto the remains. Emmet swiped at Byron again, feeling the ghost’s hands grab at him this time. Ted crowded up against Emmet’s back, burying his face against Emmet’s jacket as Dean flicked open his lighter and dropped it into the grave. Flames shot up, and Byron appeared again and launched himself at Emmet, screaming. Emmet dropped down, pulling Ted with him, but Byron’s ghost fizzled in the air around them then disappeared with a roar. The three of them looked up at Dean from their various positions on the ground, blinking with shock and amazement. “This is what you do??” Michael asked. “On a quiet day, yeah,” Dean grinned, and reached down to pull him to his feet as Emmett and Ted scrambled to theirs. “Awesome!” Emmet exclaimed to withering looks from his friends. Dean led them out of the graveyard, promising to buy them all a beer. ~*~*~*~*~*~ The next day, it was time for Sam and Dean to hit the road. Emmett hugged Dean, and Dean returned it, thankful that he'd had him around to confide in. "You know you have to tell him." "Em ..." "Dean, honey, you found out his big secret and things worked out okay, eventually, so you've got to tell him yours." "But Em, we're not just friends,” Dean paused, unsure of the reaction he'd get if he told the truth. "We're brothers. I can't tell him, ever." Emmett smiled and rolled his eyes. "You think I hadn't guessed?" "And you're not ... disgusted? Horrified?" "Friends or brothers, you obviously care about each other, and you're both gorgeous." Dean blushed. "And if that makes me a bad person, I'll just reserve my place in that special hell right now. Besides, have you never seen that TV show about the alien fighting brothers? Alien Apocalypse?" "No, I don't have a lot of time to watch TV." "Shame because they are hot, and totally into each other." Dean eyed him and Emmett realised he'd strayed from the point. “Twins,” he said “What?” Dean looked puzzled. “Twins. Hot or not?” “Hot,” Dean answered automatically, shrugging. “And related,” Emmett smirked. “Oh.” Dean pondered on that point. "Tell him. If he's not interested, and he'd be insane not to be, he'll get over it and you can stop pining." "I'm not pining." "What did I tell you about that river in Egypt?" "Fine, I'll tell him," Dean agreed, reluctantly. "Good!" Emmett pressed a piece of paper into Dean's hand. "You can call me and let me know how it goes. I love a good romance!" Dean hugged him again and left, walking over to the Impala where Sam was leaning on the top, watching the goodbye. There was something odd in his eyes that Dean couldn't pinpoint. "We could stay for a while." Dean's brow furrowed. "Why ....? Oh! Emmett? No, he's a friend, that's all. You thought ...?" "It would have been okay." "That's not me, Sam, I'm not, you know." "Yeah, okay." Sam's eyes cleared and he got into the car as Dean did and they drove off, leaving Pittsburgh behind. “We’re never gonna be free of him, are we?” Dean sighed “What do you mean?” “Just like that Dominic guy said, you never forget your first.” “Are you talking about Brian?” Dean winced. “Who else?” Sam chuckled and Dean glared at him. “Dean, he was certainly memorable,” Sam didn’t miss Dean wince again. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. “But he wasn’t my first, not by a long shot.” The Impala swerved around a non-existent pot hole in the road as Dean gasped with shock. “He ... he wasn’t?” Dean wasn’t sure whether to be happy about this fact or not. All this time he’d been thinking that Sam had never acted on his attraction to men before. Sam rolled his eyes. “No. How many girls had you been with by the time you were my age?” Dean began to make a mental list, the concentration showing on his face, which dissolved into horror as he realised just how many that was and what Sam was getting at. “You’ve been with that many men?” Dean began to hyperventilate and Sam wished they hadn’t been driving and talking about his sex life at the same time. “No, I take it back, not that many but he wasn’t my first,” he offered his brother a little reassurance. “Really?” “Really.” “Okay then,” Dean’s voice was almost shaky. Sam sighed and turned away from his brother, looking out the window at the trees and hillsides slipping by. “So, I did some research on a possible next case,” Sam changed the subject, glad that Dean seemed to gradually unwind the further they drove. They stopped just as it was getting dark. The diner they ate in was cheap and uninspiring and Dean was quiet, something Sam wasn’t used to. They picked up a six pack on the way back to the motel they’d booked into, and Sam decided that they needed to talk. Once they were sitting on the couch, TV on in the background and beers in hand, he turned so he could see Dean’s profile. “Look, can we forget about what happened at Babylon?” Sam began. “Brian wasn’t that big a deal.” Dean snorted. He wanted to say ‘What about what almost happened on the dance floor after he left’ but he couldn’t quite get the words out. “Can’t we just go back to the way things were before we got to Pittsburgh?” Sam almost pleaded. “What if I don’t want things to go back the way they were? “What?” “What if I want things to be different?” “...” Sam took a breath, but no words came out. Dean studied his beer bottle. “I can’t get it out of my head, you and Brian ... Brain fu ...” He could do this, if he tried real hard, he could say the words. “Brian fucking you.” “Oh.” Sam looked down at his beer bottle miserably. He thought they’d gotten past this and part of him regretted letting the whole thing happen with Brian even though he’d needed it at the time. “So what ...” “I can’t get it out of my head because ... because I wanted it to be me.” Sam stopped twirling his beer bottle and looked sideways at his brother with amazement. “You wanted Brian to fuck you?” “NO!” Dean looked horrified. “God, no! He’s a brother stealing bastard and I really wish I could have found a reason to damn his ass to hell.” “Brother stealing bastard? So if you didn’t want him to fuck you, what did you want?” Sam trailed off as realisation struck. “Oh.” “Yeah, oh.” Dean took a long swig of beer and slumped back onto the couch, closing his eyes. Now his dirty little secret was out, and Sam would most likely be leaving and he’d never been as miserable before and WHY did they have to go to Pittsburgh in the first place? But then Dean froze, his rambling train of thought well and truly derailed by the hot mouth that was suddenly pressed against his. His eyes shot open and he stared into Sam’s before pulling away and scooting to the end of the couch, clutching his beer bottle protectively to his chest as his heart raced. Sam smiled. “Do you think you’re gonna get to fuck me without kissing me first?” “I, er ...” Dean blinked, for once all out of words. “And do you think I would be doing this if I didn’t want it too?” Dean slowly shook his head, his eyes still wide. Sam took the bottle from his fingers and set it down on the table. He pushed his older brother back against the arm of the couch and kissed him again, softly, letting Dean get used to the idea before his kisses became more forceful. He could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest as if he might take flight at any moment, but he began to return Sam’s kisses, and when his fingers tentatively threaded themselves into Sam’s hair, Sam smiled against Dean’s mouth. Sam groaned and Dean’s tongue flicked out over his lips and deeper, returning the groan as Sam’s tongue ran down the length of the invading muscle. He pulled back, suckling on Sam’s tongue letting the tip of it slip from his mouth with a sigh and he rested his forehead on Sam’s, hands still fisted in his hair. “You taste ... of beer.” Sam grinned. Dean grinned back at him, and suddenly they were laughing together, loud and long. The tension that had hung in the air between them since the first night at Babylon was gone, forgotten, replaced by the easy banter they had both missed. “Jerk.” “Bitch.” “You wish.” “You know you’re mine, Sammy.” “Didn’t take long for your ego to get used to this.” “Nope,” Dean said smugly. “Uh huh.” Sam reached down to firmly palm Dean’s growing erection through his jeans. “How about this?” “Whoa, I er ...” Dean’s eyes were wide again and it was Sam’s turn to look smug. “Thought so. This is gonna be so much fun.” They kissed until Dean’s lips were swollen, over sensitive, and even Sam’s breath wafting over them was making him shudder. Sam’s shirt was unbuttoned and pushed off one shoulder where Dean had gone exploring, his mouth and his fingers roaming and testing, finding the spot under Sam’s ear that made him whimper and shudder when it was kissed, teasing the tight little bud of his right nipple to aching hardness. Dean’s tee was pushed up, exposing his taut stomach, and the button had been popped on his jeans, revealing just enough hip for Sam’s own questing fingers to make him buck off the couch. But so far, they had kept their pants on. And that was just how Sam wanted it. A slow burn, keep his brother wanting more, keep him focussed on one thing while Sam figured out the practicalities. He stood up and pulled Dean to his feet after him, tugging him towards the bathroom. Sam turned on the shower, only letting go of Dean for a moment, but when he turned back, Dean was already pulling his shirt off, grinning at Sam once it was over his head. It left Dean’s hair all mussed up, which Sam decided was a good look on him. Sam followed his example, feeling a blush grow on his skin when Dean openly leered at him. It was all so new, so different, yet at the same time there was a familiarity and history that already bonded them at a deeper level. Dean reached for Sam, slipping his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugging him forward. Sam went willingly, squirming as Dean’s fingers made quick work of freeing him from the rest of his clothes, apart from his boxer briefs, which by now were stretched across his hard dick. Dean slowed down, went back to kissing Sam as the small room filled up with steam, and Sam let Dean call the shots, although rutting against Dean’s hip may have encouraged him to finally cup Sam, his palm warm against the cotton. Sam shuddered at the touch and Dean looked up at him as he slid his hand inside his pants, thumb swiping across the slit and smearing moisture over his fingers. “God, Sammy,” Dean gasped, going with it when Sam wriggled out of his pants and helped Dean do the same before pulling him into the tub and under the spray. Sam grabbed the soap and, grinning, began to run his hands all over Dean’s body. Dean didn’t ever want to shower again without his arms full of Sam, slipping and sliding over his skin, hands exploring further now there were no clothes in the way. Dean moaned as Sam cupped his ass and pulled him closer. Every touch was better than the last, and every taste of skin and every sound Sam made pushed him higher. Dean would have had no hesitation in admitting his brother had reduced him to thinking in extraordinarily simple terms, even for him. Then Sam dropped to his knees and showed Dean heaven on earth. Straight down, oh God, he took him straight down. Dean’s hands involuntarily dug into Sam’s hair but instead of protesting, Sam moaned around the hard muscle filling his mouth, his throat, and swallowed around it. Dean actually yelled as he came, almost unable to catch a breath as Sam relentlessly milked him until he had no more to give and his cock felt as sensitive as his lips had earlier. He let his head fall back against the shower wall and loosened his grip in Sam’s hair, freeing his brother just enough so he could slide up Dean’s body and wrap his arms round him. “Sammy, I ...” Dean swallowed hard and buried his face against Sam’s neck, glad of the warm water still hitting their bodies. He didn’t think he’d ever come so hard and he really needed to lie down. “Shhh,” Sam soothed and pulled Dean out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry him before his skin began to cool. “But you didn’t ...,” Dean protested. “Soon,” Sam promised with a smile. He led Dean over to the bed and laid him down, letting him doze for a while. As Dean napped, Sam lay beside him, propped up on an elbow and took the chance to look, really look at Dean. He was sprawled out on his back, arms loosely spread over the pillows, legs splayed, their natural curve emphasised by the complete lack of tension in his body. Dean had changed from the time he’d been the slim hipped object of Sam’s first crush. Muscle that had come with age and a life that demanded strength had given him contours that Sam wanted to run his tongue over, tracing the smooth skin and stopping to worship scars that were badges of honour and reminders of close calls. Sam inched closer, his eyes moving slowly down from the fascination of Dean’s throat, across the planes of his chest and the firm expanse of his stomach. His gaze came to rest on Dean’s cock. He could remember how it tasted, remember how his lips had stretched around it. He could still feel it, the way he had taken it deeper, let it push at the back of his throat until he remembered how to relax, and let Dean in. Sam reached out, not touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating from it. His own dick was hard to the point of aching, but he could wait a little longer, until Dean was awake and rested and ready to go again. He laid his hand on Dean’s leg, feeling his pulse beneath the skin. He’d seen Dean half dressed before, more times than he could count, and naked too. Living in such close quarters left little room for modesty, but once he’d gotten over his teenaged attraction, he’d never let himself think about what it would be like to be able to touch, and lick and kiss and more. Sam smiled to himself, dark and dirty thoughts running rampant around his head. He glanced at Dean’s cock again, biting his lip as he thought of it pushing inside him. As he watched, it began to swell, gradually stiffening and elongating as it filled out. Sam glanced up at Dean’s face, and found him grinning sleepily back at him. “Perv,” Dean accused with a low chuckle. “What?” Sam tried for innocence. “Watching my dick while I’m asleep.” Dean yawned and stretched, giving Sam a wonderful view of his ass as he turned over and dozed back off. Now all Sam could think of was parting the cheeks in front of him, running his tongue down Dean’s crack, then fucking him hard. Sam’s cock throbbed, demanding attention, so Sam pressed against Dean’s side and rubbed it against him until Dean groaned and rolled over again, pulling Sam into his arms. “Dean?” “Hmmmm?” “I need to ask you something.” “Ungh?” “All those girls you’ve slept with, you’ve been careful, right? Used condoms every time?” “Mmmhmm.” Sam smiled at his brother who was lying on his back, eyes closed and a look of pure bliss on his face. As chilled out at Dean was, and even though that fit right in with Sam’s seduction plans, he needed at least one coherent word from him. “Swear?” Dean’s eyes opened just enough to focus on Sam’s face and he smiled such a languid and decadent smile that Sam didn’t know why they hadn’t done this months ago. “Swear. And I got tested, Sammy. Eight weeks ago.” “Okay then.” Sam smiled and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. In a fluid movement, Sam straddled Dean’s hips. Now Dean’s eyes were wide open and had an interesting combination of hunger and terror in them. Sam took the lead, bending down to nip at Dean’s lips and his cock prodded Dean’s stomach, leaving a damp trail as Sam moved against him. Sam moaned softly in his ear and huffed small warm breaths across his neck as Dean’s arms went around him. Goose-bumps rose and Dean pulled him closer. “Touch me.” Sam pulled back and sat down over Dean’s hips, his brother’s hard cock wedged between his cheeks. Dean’s hands rested on Sam’s hips, and he nervously licked his lips, glancing between Sam’s eyes and the solid column of muscle that was demanding attention. Slowly, he took his right hand off Sam’s hip, and wrapped it around his brother’s cock. Sam could see the hesitation in his eyes, and knew how he felt. Each step they took now, each move they made, took them further over the line. After they did this, there would be no turning back and even though Sam wanted it more than anything else he could remember, the pause was important. It meant what followed wasn’t just his hormones racing away with them, it was a conscious, deliberate choice. And one that, with deep breaths, they both made willingly. Dean’s long fingers curled around Sam’s erection, immediately curious about the similarities and differences to his own cock, but one glance at Sam’s face had him mesmerised. Dean looked up at his brother in awe. Sam’s lips were parted and his heavy lidded eyes were almost closed, long lashes fluttering every time Dean’s thumb grazed over the head of Sam’s swollen cock. Tendrils of damp hair stuck to Sam’s neck and round his face and Dean was mesmerised by the sight. “You’re beautiful, Sammy.” His voice was hoarse and when Sam looked down at him, Dean blushed, a rosy glow that spread down his neck. Sam smiled and arched as Dean’s exploring hands moved on him, and he was so hard he ached. His fingers found Dean’s nipples and he delighted in the little whimpers he coaxed from his older brother with a little twisting and pulling. “Make me come, Dean. Please.” Dean groaned, his hand moving faster. He watched, almost entranced as Sam’s body began to tense, his stomach muscles pulling taut, his thigh muscles clenching around Dean’s hips. Sam threw his head back, and Dean had a moment of unreality. They were really doing this. Dean twisted his wrist a little, making Sam cry out, his whole body bowing back as his cock spurted, trails of hot come landing on Dean’s chest as Dean pulled every last drop from him. Sam sagged, spent and boneless, so Dean pulled him down until he was lying on his back. Sam blinked at him, watching as Dean raised his hand to his mouth and licked it clean. “God, that’s hot.” Sam groaned. Dean grinned and reached down the side of the bed to find the t shirt that Sam had pulled off earlier. He wiped off the rest of the cooling stickiness, and curled next to Sam, stroking his skin, and watching him tremble. Dean moved closer, pushing his dick against Sam’s hip, enjoying the way it felt sliding across the warm skin. Sam reached down and touched him, fingertips brushing over the tip. “Sam!” Dean yelped, pushing up against Sam’s hand, needing more. Sam smirked and pushed himself up, sliding his hand lower to cup Dean’s balls and stroke the skin behind them. “Jesus, Sammy,” Dean groaned. “Will you fuck me?” The words were hardly out of Sam’s mouth before he landed on his back with an ‘oof’ and Dean was on him, kisses searing his lips. “Dean ...,” Sam panted out. “Lube?” “What? Oh, right. Where?” “Jeans pocket.” “Got it. Condom?” Dean questioned. “No,” Sam shook his head. He’d been tested when he and Jess had got together, and there’d only been Madison and Brian since and he’d been careful. And he trusted that Dean had been truthful. “Skin to skin.” "Awesome." As Dean slicked his cock, Sam hastily made his own preparations, shuddering when the blunt head of Dean’s cock poked at where his fingers were buried in his own ass. He helped line the thick column of muscle up, and reached up to hold Dean back for a second. “Take it easy, until you’re all the way in.” Dean nodded. Sam squirmed as Dean breached him, arching and panting as his brother eased into him for the first time. “Are you ... is this okay?” Dean held still, not wanting to hurt Sam, not even for this. “Oh yeah, more than okay,” Sam groaned and tilted his hips to encourage Dean to keep moving. But Dean stilled. He looked down at Sam, and touched his face as if it were made of glass. Slowly, he pulled almost all the way back out, and bent down to kiss Sam as he pushed back in, feeling Sam’s drawn out groan ghost across his lips. Now he began to move, fucking Sam harder as Sam twisted and moaned. Dean slipped an arm beneath Sam, and pulled him closer causing his body to arch back, his head and shoulders brushing the bed as Dean held him around the waist and rocked into him. “Dean, please,” Sam begged. “Touch yourself,” Dean panted, shuddering as he watched Sam’s hand close around his own dick and pull on it in time with Dean’s thrusts. It was too much. Sam’s tight heat gripping him, his legs wrapped around Dean’s. The heat of his body, the heavy scent of sex and Sam, the sight of him bringing himself off while Dean fucked him. Dean’s senses overloaded and he came, hard and unexpected, gripping Sam tighter and slamming into him. Sam cried out, and Dean felt the Sam’s come slick between their bodies as his hips stuttered and stilled and he lowered Sam’s boneless form down to the bed. “Easy,” Dean told himself as he pulled out slowly, grimacing at the squelch and cleaning them both up before he flopped down beside Sam on the bed. Their shoulders were touching, and Dean felt around for Sam’s hand and twinned their fingers together. “You’re such a girl.” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice and couldn’t help the broad grin that spread over his own face. “So this? Us? You ever thought about it before?” Dean asked later as he lay with his head on Sam’s chest. “Well, I was a teenager, realising I might like boys as well as girls, and I had an older brother who couldn’t keep it in his pants, and insisted on telling me every detail of his sex life. So yeah, back then, but nothing like this. I just ...” He paused until Dean looked up at him. “I just wanted to kiss you.” “Aw, Sammy, that’s so sweet!” Dean buried his face in Sam’s shoulder to try and hide his laughter. Once he’d gotten himself under control, he kissed the pout off Sam’s face and settled back down again. “Then one day, I came home early. You had a girl in the motel room.” Sam couldn’t believe he was telling Dean his darkest secret, but Dean stroked his hip, and placed a kiss on his chest, so he went on. “I watched you through a crack in the curtains. She was clawing at you, and I didn’t know whether to look at you or her. You turned her over, slammed into her and then you took hold of her wrists so you could hold her down. I almost came in my pants.” Dean’s hand stilled on Sam’s hip and Sam wondered if he’d overstepped a line, but Dean’s voice was edged with a dark lust when he spoke, a lust that had a shiver crawling down Sam’s spine. “You like being held down, Sammy?” Sam shivered in his arms and nodded. “Yes.” Dean closed his eyes and nuzzled Sam’s chest. He knew it was entirely possible that he was chained up in some warehouse while a djinn made his wildest dreams come true and fed off his psyche, but he really didn’t care. “Interesting.” He mauled one of Sam’s nipples Sam swatted his shoulder and yawned. He snuggled down further and pulled the covers over them. “But you got to come twice.” Sam could hear the pout in Dean’s voice in the darkness and yawned. “So did you. Go to sleep and I promise to blow you in the morning.” “Jesus, Sammy, how am I supposed to sleep now?” Dean’s exasperation was overshadowed by Sam’s soft snoring, and he contented himself with holding Sam close as he slept. The protectiveness he had always felt for his little brother went into overdrive and he kissed his dark, unruly hair, smiling as Sam snuffled against him. He reached over to the nightstand and picked up his phone. One handed, he typed in a short text and pressed send. “The aliens have landed.” He got a smiley face straight back. Sam snuggled closer, and Dean fell asleep, happier than he’d been in a long time. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Back in Pittsburgh, Michael and Ted were camped out around their usual table in Babylon, waiting for Emmett to arrive. When he did, he pushed his way through the crowd, glaring at anyone who got in his way. “What are you wearing?” Ted asked, eyebrows raising at the beaten up leather jacket he’d never seen before. Michael snorted in his beer when Emmett took the jacket off and revealed the plaid shirt over a tight black t shirt. “Are you feeling okay?” Ted slapped his hand against Emmet’s forehead. “I’m fine,” Emmett growled with attitude. “He’s gone, Em, and I don’t think he’s coming back.” Michael patted his arm. “Who, Dean? I know he’s gone, and he got his man,” Emmett wiggled his eyebrows. “Hunters always get their man.” “I think that’s Mounties, not hunters.” “Whatever. But he did open my eyes to what’s out there. In the dark,” he added dramatically. “Oh no,” Michael shook his head as Emmet surveyed the crowd. He really hoped this was just another phase.