Carry On My Wayward Son

Chapter 11

 

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Every night I have the same old dream

'bout you and me and what's in between

So many changes, so many lies

Try to run, try to hide

From everything that I feel inside

But I can't escape you or your frozen eyes...

-Stone Cold

-Rainbow

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Lying on his back in the bed, Sam had his legs wrapped around the waist of the man that was pounding into him, fingers clutching tightly to the sheets beneath him, moaning loudly. Thrusting his hips up to meet the mans, he could feel his cock throb madly and that hot knot begin to form deep in his belly, sending waves of liquid fire through his bloodstream, making his whole body throb like crazy. Body tingling and being unable to hold still, he arched up panting out, “More! Harder! FUCK ME!” Then he took hold of his cock and started to jerk himself quickly, knowing his end wasn't far off. Grinding down on the cock in his ass, he panted heavily through tightly clenched teeth, trying to force the cock into him deeper or get the man to thrust harder, something that would tip him over the edge.

 

Panting heavily, he lifted his ass up off the bed as he worked his hand harder on his cock, breath now coming in heavy gasps, sweat shining all over his naked body in the low light, making it glisten slightly. Feeling that spark at the base of his spine starting, knowing that signaled his orgasm was imminent, he groaned loudly, hand moving faster. Slitting his eyes open, he looked up then gasped when he saw the face of the man fucking him, astonished. Crying out, “Dean,” stunned as his brother ground into him just as he came, he splattered both of them with his cum, feeling his body rock and pulse from the power of the orgasm, shaking madly, unable to breathe.

 

Pulled out of the dream, Sam exhaled loudly, sweat running down his face, feeling his groin throb madly as the remnants of the nocturnal emission in the boxers he wore started sticking the fabric to his damp body. Groaning loudly, still feeling the aftershocks of the powerful orgasm wrack his body, he sat up on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. Okay, that was more than mildly disturbing! Scrubbing a hand over his face, he then rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor, shaking his head. Over the last four days he had similar dreams, ones that had resulted in erections but never before had brought him to an orgasm. This was, most certainly, not something he was comfortable with!

 

Flopping onto his back, he sighed and shut his eyes. This was not going well! Since that talk with Dean something had rooted in his psyche somewhere and was making it so that he was actually thinking about the whole thing himself. And, if the dreams he kept having were any indication, some part of him, somewhere, liked the idea. That wasn't good! Nor did he know how to handle it. The idea horrified him. After all, it was incest for God's sake! That was out and out wrong, no matter how you looked at or tried to justify it. No... he couldn't handle it! But, on the other hand, he couldn't get it out of his head either. That bothered him even more. He didn’t know how to go even start going about doing that. Hell, everything he had tried up to this point to either forget, push it aside or get it out of his head hadn't worked. If he kept himself busy during the day so he didn't think about it, as he had the past few, it just showed up in his dreams. That he didn't like.

 

Feeling the semen start to cool under his boxers, Sam grimaced then hauled himself out of bed then to the bathroom to clean and change. While wiping himself down, the images of the dream lingered on, making him think about them. Much to his horror and disgust, he found himself starting to get hard once more just thinking about the scenario. Oh no, this wasn't good! He needed to find some way to stop this before he drove himself nuts or went off the deep end, one of the two.

 

Shaking his head, the younger Winchester finished as quickly as he could then slipped into a clean pair of shorts before making a beeline for the bottle of whiskey he kept in a cabinet in the kitchen. After taking two shots of the stuff, something he hoped would relax him enough that he could sleep without anymore of the damned dreams, he wandered back to the bedroom with a deep sigh, rubbing at his gritty eyes, absolutely exhausted. These dreams were causing a serious lack of sleep on his end that was leaving him less than on top of his game, so tired during the day that it was a fight to stay awake. But, on the other hand, he was also frightened to go to sleep, afraid that he would have another one. No, it wasn't good. He was seriously considering going into town the following day to see if he couldn't find sleeping pills or something. No, he didn't like those things, fearing how addictive he had heard they could be as well as some of the other side effects, but was at his wits end as to what he could do beyond that. He needed sleep and to not be troubled by the dreams, even for just one night so that he was clearheaded enough to think the whole thing through then, hopefully, come up with something or some way to stop it.

 

Sliding back into the still warm bed, he punched his pillow a few times to get it into the shape he wanted then curled up, gazing out the window before sighing and shutting his eyes. Hopefully, he would drop back off quickly and remain asleep without anymore unwelcome dreams but he wasn't going to count on that one. With the way his luck was, with the indicators from the way the last few nights had run, he was certain that wasn't going to happen but he held out hope! Shifting around, pulling the blankets tightly around him against the slight chill in the room, he listened to the cold north wind whistle around his small house, rattling the empty tree branches, buffeting against the walls. Hearing a far off train whistle, he focused on that, trying to keep his attention drawn to something other than his troubling thoughts in hopes that he could stay distracted enough to fall back to sleep.

 

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Sitting at the computer, Dean was regaling Sam with a story about his latest hunt, a bumbling ghost that was catastrophe prone and couldn't haunt right, laughing through the whole thing as he remembered all the stupid things it had done before he finally sent it on. Even to him, the whole thing was hilarious! If it hadn't caused so many problems for the people in the house, he would have left it alone just for comedic value! After laughing about how it had stumbled, tripping over something as he was getting ready to burn the bones, he glanced at the screen and stopped. Brow furrowing, a concerned expression slipped across his face as he looked at his brother. Sam appeared to be distracted, not hearing much of what he was saying. Though, normally, that was because geek boy was working on something somewhere, this time it didn't appear to be the case.

 

Taking a closer look, something he hadn't before, just being used to seeing Sammy every night and knowing he was there, he noticed that his baby brother had some serious dark circles under his eyes. Not only that but his face had that drawn, pinched look so many got when they weren't sleeping right. Sitting there, rubbing his eyes, Sam appeared to be looking anywhere but the screen, as though he couldn't look at him. That told him something serious was bothering him. The only times Sam couldn't look at it him was when that something bothering him had to do with him or when something was really wrong that he didn't want to talk about, usually that was something deadly serious. Though Dean knew that the situation that they were in was something deadly serious, for more than just them, he didn't think that whatever was bugging Sam had to do with the whole Armageddon thing. That had been looming for a long time now and it didn't seem to be bothering him more now than it had been so that meant it had something to do with him, as least as far as he could figure.

 

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he stared at the screen saying nothing, trying to think. As Sam was so distracted by whatever, he didn't seem to notice his silence. That was a good thing, it would allow him to think it over for a few seconds without putting his brother on edge. Wracking his brain, the only thing that came to mind was his 'issue' that they had discussed. As far as he could tell, since that talk, Sam had been 'off' so it had to be that. Though it was a difficult subject for him, as he was so afraid of losing his brother over it yet being powerless to quell the attraction, he was loathe to bring it up for fear of setting Sammy off. Thinking it over, he thought he had a way of going about this without doing that.

Nodding to himself, he found a place to launch in then said, after clearing his throat and seeing Sam glance towards the screen, Dean asked, as gently as he knew how, “Sammy? Dude, what is wrong? You look like shit and haven't heard a word I've said for a while now. What's eating you?”

 

Glancing up at the screen, seeing a concerned look on Dean's face, Sam quickly glanced away, unable to look into his brother's 'eyes' as it tended to bring back visions from those dreams. Giving a deep sigh, he shook his head then answered cryptically, voice just shy of a murmur, “I haven't been sleeping well, nothing to worry about.”

 

That part Dean had already sussed out so he nodded the said, “Gotcha, Sam. Is there a reason for the not sleeping or is it just one of those cycles that come from time to time?”

 

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Sam gave an internal sigh. This he didn't want to get into with his brother because of the cause of it. It would be really easy to lie about it but he and Dean had spent a great deal of time rebuilding the relationship they had because of things that had happened. He didn't want to destroy that just when things were going much better over something like this. After all, as hard as it had to be for him, Dean had admitted such things to him. Wouldn't it hypocritical of him to not do the same thing? Deciding, quickly, that it was, he slumped down in his chair, groaning morosely. Glancing away from the screen, he mumbled, “It's these dreams I've been having...”

 

Knowing he was getting somewhere, Dean leaned forward and looked more intently at the screen then asked, “What are they about, Sammy? The shit with Ruby and that?”

It would be easy to blame this on the nightmare they were in but Sam didn't want to go that route. Shaking his head, he said, wearily, “It's Sam and, no, not about that. These are about something else.”

 

Shunting one issue to the side, Dean pressed on, “Alright, if it's not about that, what do they pertain to? Talk to me, Sam, I’m worried about you!”

 

Slumping down in his chair, Sam stared at the keyboard, trying to give himself the courage to do this. Fiddling with things on his desk, he finally muttered, “You,” but stopped there, not sure that he could go on any further than that.

 

Assuming this was about his admission, Dean ran a hand, nervously, through his hair then waited, not saying anything. He wanted to go on and reassure his brother that he wasn't about to do anything that he didn't want or push him into it but didn't, wanting to see where this lead before he did such a thing. Waiting a few minutes, he finally gave Sam a gentle nudge, saying, “What about me?”

 

Groaning, as if in pain, Sam didn't know how to phrase this! With Dean admitting that things went beyond fantasy for him, that he wanted to try it, he didn't want to egg his brother on or give him false hope but there was no delicate way to dance around the subject either! Leaning his head back, he scrubbed both hands over his face then blurted out, knowing that the only way he was going to be able to get it out was in one gush then said, quickly, mumbling, words running together, “Thedreamsareerotic.”

 

Brow furrowing, Dean tried to translate what his brother said, giving his head a scratch while he did. It was apparently something important if Sammy had done it like that but it was a bit hard to do. After a couple minutes, he shook his head then said, “Dude, I don't speak whatever language that is! I know you're the geek boy and are all smart but you need to say it again in ENGLISH so that I can understand it.”

 

He had hoped that Dean would get it the first time but hadn't counted on it. Sighing again, he shook his head then repeated the phrase slowly but softly, looking down at the floor as he did.

 

Listening carefully, Dean's eyes widened at the admission. Though he knew this was serious, he couldn't help it that his heart started hammering in his chest and an excitement start to build in him. Keeping a leash on that until he knew the context of the whole thing, he asked, “These were like regular dreams or was it something forced? 'Cause you know, Sammy, I would never...”

Cutting him off from finishing that, Sam shook his head then said, “No, Dean, no force involved. They were regular dreams of that type.” The admission made him blush slightly and he looked away from the computer screen so he didn't have a chance at seeing any part of Dean's face.

 

“Alright,” Dean drawled, rubbing his chin, that excitement starting to grow. Pausing, he tried to figure out what to say to progress this. It was obvious that Sammy was disturbed by the whole thing so he didn't want to push for what he wanted. But he wasn't sure what to say about it to get the conversation going. Looking at the screen, seeing Sammy was blushing a little with his face turned away, it was obvious Mr. Sharing-And-Caring didn't want to share any of this with him so it was going to be his end that was going to have to come first.

 

After too many minutes of silence for Dean's comfort he finally cleared his throat, somewhat nervously, then asked, “Beyond the fact that it's me, is there something else about the dreams bugging you, Sammy? You gotta work with me here, dude, this chick-flick shit ain't my thing, you know that. But it's obvious something is bothering you!”



Nodding, Sam said nothing, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Trying to organize his jumbled thoughts, he said, very quietly once again, “It's not that the dream was weird, alright? It was kinda' a standard one of that nature for me. It's just the fact that it's you in it.”

 

Alright, that gave him something to work with. Relaxing back, Dean stared at the screen, thinking.

 

Shifting around uncomfortably, Sam stared at the floor, not sure what to say to his brother. There was a need there to start unburdening himself but, with what Dean was feeling, he wasn't sure that he should be the person to dump this on. However, he really didn't have anyone else to talk to about it either. There was no way that he could even start to talk to Bobby about this and he didn't really have contact with anyone else other than the beings in the chatroom. That he wasn't comfortable doing.

 

Not liking Sam's silence, Dean wracked his brain for a few moments then asked, as calmly as he could so as not to put his brother on the defensive, “It's obvious that there is more to the fact that it's just me in the dream that is bugging you, Sam. What is it beyond that obvious part that is? There has to be more to it than that.”

 

Listening to Dean, Sam shifted around, resting his elbows on his knees, starting at the floor. Gulping heavily, he could feel a trickle of sweat dance down his spine then groaned. He needed to talk this out because things couldn't go on like it was. So he decided to try to let some out, “Dean, dude, this is hard alright? It's you I'm talking to about this and it's just...”

 

“Just talk, Sam. I'll listen. You listened to all my shit the other night so I'll do it with no judgments, alright, dude?”

 

Swallowing thickly, Sam muttered, voice barely audible, “Alright... Look, Dean... SHIT! It's... dammit... I liked it alright? Enough to, well, you know...”

 

Nodding vigorously, Dean soothed, “Gotcha, Sam. Look, dude, it's normal for that stuff but do you mean more than that?”

 

“Christ...” Sam muttered, stiffening up, eyes screwed tightly shut. He had spent the whole damn day dealing with this and now thought he had a reason behind it. But he didn't want to admit it. That was the hard part. He didn't know if he could even articulate it out loud at this point.

 

“Sam, it's me. Just say it, dude! We'll deal with the shit it brings up from there,” Dean encouraged, heart hammering in his chest. Something, somewhere told him that he was going to like what was coming but he had to keep it under control.

 

Clenching his fists tightly, Sam blurted out, finally, knowing it was now or never, “I think something, somewhere, in me seems to like the idea, alright? I'm not saying that I want to do it, just that there might be something appealing about it somewhere. Dude, that is so fucked up I don't know where to begin to dissect it! But it's there and I’m sure that's the problem.”

 

Internally, Dean wanted to cheer. Oh, he liked hearing that! It was perfect! However, from the shape Sam appeared to be in, there was no way he was about to start pushing things right now. He needed to be patient and wait then see where things led before dancing close to trying to get what he wanted. Schooling his voice into the most soothing he could make it, the one he tended to use when working with kids, he told his brother, “I get that, trust me, Sammy! Been dealing with it for a while myself on this end so I know how rough it is, dude. Just... well... it's me, Sam. I'm the only one that knows and won't be making fun of you for it. It's not an easy admission to make, I know that but maybe since it's out it'll help.”



“Something needs to,” Sam snorted dryly. “I can't take much more of this no sleep crap. I'm dead on my feet. Being alone all the time doesn't help either. It's not the same as when I was with you. Even if I didn't talk to you about what was bugging me, it helped that I knew you were there, you know?”

 

That, actually, was something Dean understood all too well. In fact, he had thought that himself on more than one occasion since Sam had left. “Dude, I know, trust me. You don't feel so alone even though you might not be talking.”



Lifting his head, Sam looked at the image of his brother on the computer screen for, really, the first time that night, giving a small smile. “Yeah, that's exactly right, Dean.”



Seeing how tired his brother was, Dean figured that was probably a good place to stop for the night and not push things further. Sammy needed sleep if he was going to be effective with what he was doing, something that he looked like he hadn't gotten for days. Plus, he was sure to over think the whole thing if he were left alone, not allowing himself the rest that he needed. So he needed to do something to keep him from doing that and get the rest he really needed. If truth be told, adding into that, he didn't want his baby brother to do a complete and utter freak out on him either. So, he needed to come up with something. Thinking, tapping a finger on the laptop, he quickly came up with something that made him want to grin. Now to implement it and see what Sam had to say. Clearing his throat, he waited until Sam looked at him then said, “Dude, you need sleep.”

 

Giving a wry grin, Sam nodded, “No shit, Dean. Just not sure I can. This is really bugging me, ya' know?”

 

“Oh, trust me, dude, I know how it goes! Went through that shit myself,” Dean said with a chuckle. “But you need sleep without the booze. I've noticed you're drinking way more than you normally do.”

 

“I admit to that,” Sam nodded. “It's been about the only thing that knocks me out and allows me to get some sleep.”

 

“As I know all too well, it doesn't help shit, bro,” Dean said with a shake of his head.

 

“Yeah, I know, but don't know what else to do and I don't want to take sleeping pills.”

 

“Don't blame you there! I might have an idea,” Dean told him slowly, thinking over the logistics of it, making sure it could work.

 

Giving his brother a quizzical look, Sam asked, “What's that?”

 

“How about this... since this messenger thing will log us off automatically after a hour or so of inactivity, why don't you take the laptop into the bedroom with you and go to sleep with the cam on. That way it'll be like me being there though not exactly the same thing,” Dean explained. To him, the idea was appealing. It was as close as he was going to get to Sammy being around for a while. Though he wasn't about to admit that to his brother!

 

Blinking, Sam looked at Dean, a strange expression on his face. He was about to veto the idea but there was something strangely appealing about it. Though something told him it might not be the best thing to do with what was dancing around in his mind, he pushed it aside and decided to go for it. Nodding, he replied, “Works for me. Let me take the laptop into the bedroom, get dressed and all that.”



“Sure, Sam. While you do that, I'll go take care of a couple things myself,” Dean said, sliding the laptop onto the bed and heading for the bathroom.

 

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A couple hours later, Dean shifted around on the bed, quietly, trying not to disturb Sam. It appeared his brother was sleeping soundly after having problems getting there. Both of them had switched to the mic that was built into the computer rather than the headsets that were better sounding but they made a bit of a crackling noise if you moved around too much, something he didn't want to happen. Carefully, he reached over and snapped off the lamp on the table beside his bed then adjusted the lights on the cam to ensure that if Sammy woke he could see him fine. Lying back down, he just stared at the sleeping form of his brother on the bed, a wave of longing washing over him. Sure, part of it was sexual, a big part, but the other was just plain that he missed his brother. But, frankly, this idea had been a good one, even for him. There was something relaxing about knowing he could just open his eyes and see his brother sleeping once more. Provided this went off without a glitch, he thought this might be a good idea each night and he was going to press for it.

Reaching over and maximizing the window the cam picture was in, he smiled a little as his brother's form, curled up under the blankets, filled his screen. Combined with the normal sounds of Sam sleeping, and he felt himself relax even more. Curling up under the covers, he rested his head on the pillow then shut his eyes with a soft sigh. Hopefully, soon, he could move things along more and get what he wanted. But he was sure that tonight was a large step in that direction. Shifting around, he burrowed deeper as the wind howled outside and was asleep a short time later.

 

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Holds up puppy with big, sad eyes...

Please review. You know you wanna!

 

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