Hard 7

Sam made it back and had time to get a drink before he had to find a seat in the main area for the auction. He'd grabbed every last card he had in the damn tin in the back of the Impala with an 'S' name on it. Which was seven of them, so he was feeling pretty good about his chances. Not cocky by any means, but good. Now, maybe Dean would do his part and look... hell he didn't know, sickly or something. That might help.

He sighed as he sat there and waited for the auction to start, and finished yet another of one of the purple nurples. How many was that? Dean always cut him off at four... Well, Dean wasn't here now was he? Sam snickered out loud at that thought.

*

Dean didn't participate much in the excited discussions about who might sell for the most, or who the buyers might be. Only a couple of days ago he might have been competative, but right now he was thinkin about a pair of hazel eyes... so soft when they looked at him he almost believed they belonged to someone who loved him. Which was crazy and just... just wishful thinking.

He'd washed his eyeliner off and shaved so he was perfectly smooth. Some idiot thought his color was pink so... so here he was in pink karate pants and no top. Yeah, yeah, he'd been told it brought the color out in his eyes, and the chicks and the tough guys might like it. He'd been subdued, mostly because he was unlikely to see Sam again, so he hadn't fought them.

The curtains opened and the auctioneer walked to the lectern. Dean's gaze swept around the room and along the rows of chairs. The light was in his eyes so he couldn't really identify anyone clearly. He gave a smile, because it was expected.

When the sex workers walked out to be auctioned off, Sam's eyes widened as he looked up at Dean. His mouth had been full of Purple Nurple, until he saw him and spewed out the drink all over the place as he started cracking up laughing. Sliding down in his chair slightly, Sam covered his mouth as he laughed and coughed, sputtered and tried to catch his breath. He laughed until he had tears rolling down his cheeks. Pink pants!? Oh God, he SO should paint the Impala to match now. That had to be the funniest thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Thankfully he had managed to keep his choking and laughter quiet, but just barely. If nothing else, this auction had proved to be more entertaining than going to see one the best comedians.

Dean watched one sex worker after the other get auctioned off. He clapped as hard as anyone, and then it was finally his turn. Rising, he walked to the front of the stage, turned to give the audience a look at his back, then pulled his pants half way down his ass, satisfied by the clapping and and wolf calls. Was there a tall brunet in the audience, one who had looked reluctantly at his assets? His heart fluttered at the thought. Great... just cause he was wearing pink didn't mean he should turn into a fucking girl, did it?

Sam had completely sobered now that it was Dean's turn to be auctioned off. He sat up straighter in his chair, a look of determination on his face as he motioned to make the first bid. He was quickly over-bid by a woman a few seats down, which had Sam frowning darkly and bidding over her.

The auction was silent and done by buzzer, so that the people on stage had no idea, other than the auctioneer saying that they had the amount and pointing to the party who had placed the bid, just the auctioneers voice and his speed talking as he ran through the prices and ranges.

Again Sam was overbid and again he out bid the same person who had bid over him. This continued back and forth back and forth until Sam was beginning to wonder if all the cards he brought in with him were going to actually be enough. Leaning forward in his chair, Sam looked down the rows of chairs to see that his rival was none other than the 'woman in red' the bartender was having a fit over earlier.

I could shoot her. Oh God, I really AM drunk... I'm thinking like Dean now. Sitting back in his seat with a sigh, Sam signaled once again his bid that was slightly higher than the woman in red's.

DO NOT over bid me, woman. Just don't. I'm just drunk enough to choke you. No you're not. Yeah, but it makes me feel better to think it, so shut up. Ah, okay.

Again, the woman bid over him, the price well above all the others that had already been sold. Dammit!

Sam sighed and hung his head, the auctioneer asked for a higher price, once, twice.... at the last minute Sam motioned for the next price up.
It was going to be all his money, the cards would all be drained, but he had to do it, even if he and Dean had to sleep in the Impala for the next few months and shower at public restrooms.

God this sucked ass. Sam rolled his eyes as the auctioneer asked for the next price up. She was going to bid and he was going to be shit outta luck, he knew it. He knew it and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it... unless he really didshoot her.

"Sold!" the auctioneer yelled into the mic and Sam's eyes widened as he looked up at him.

* * *

Dean was all smiles as he walked off the stage. He'd left the others in the dust when it came to the amount of the winning bid. Sure, someone after him might go for more, but right now, he was on top and that was good. Other than the damn pink pants...

He was ushered into a private sitting room to wait for his bidder while the payment was taken care of. Instead of sitting and relaxing, he eyed the champagne bottle and glasses and started pacing the small room. As time passed, that light hearted feeling and his triumph faded. Instead, those feelings were replaced by images of Sam's crushed face when the bidding had gone way above his pocket. Even Dean hadn't realized how high it would go. Had Sam been there? Fucking lights, he couldn't tell... but yeah, his gut told him Sam had been there, watching, maybe hoping, then he'd had to watch someone else make the winning bid.

Hopefully the purple nurples had softened the blow and any disappointment.

Yeah, what about your disappointment? I'm fine with whoever won me, it's about money. Yeah right. Shut up. Dammit, now the pink pants were apparently making him think like a girl, with their long internal conversations and complicated way of looking at something that was black or white. Or pink. Shut the fuck up!

He could hear voices outside, and he stopped his pacing, standing stock still.

Sam walked down the hall with two of the suits flanking him. "Dude, I told you, Steven is my middle name."

"Your name is Samuel Steven Tyler?"

Sam frowned. Damn Dean and his idea of what was funny. "Uh, yeah." he cleared his throat. "Look, the cards went through, right?" He watched the men nod, "Alright then, so who cares what my name is, or that my parents"....he thought of Dean.... "apparently hate me? The money is there, I'm good for it."

Sam watched the two men walk off and gave a sigh of relief. Samuel Steven Tyler. Of all the stupid names... Sam reached for the door knob and turned it, slowly pushing the door open and stepping through. Looking back, he closed the door behind him, then turned to face the room and paused as he found Dean standing before him.

"The pink pants..." Sam shook his head, grinning wide and trying not to laugh, his gaze fixed on them as he pulled out his cell and quickly snapped a picture. Hey it was nothing Dean wouldn't have done had their positions been reversed. Sam slid his cell back in his pocket as his gaze slid up Dean's body to rest on his face. "Please tell me you didn't pick those out." he snickered.

"You know it's normally fifty bucks for a picture," Dean automatically said as he all but launched himself into Sam's arm and kissed him, pushing him backwards until he was against the door. "You did it... you really..." The sensation of joy was almost unfamiliar, but here it was, over something silly... like getting to spend a whole night with someone he liked... wanted. "You got me."

Sam's eyes widened as he nearly fell over backward when his brother launched himself into his arms. He stumbled backward, his back smacking into the door, his arms wrapped around Dean. All the air left Sam's lungs in a rush and had him taking a deep breath before he could speak, "Yeah, I did... thought I was gonna have to shoot someone though, but, she was smart and backed off." he smiled.

"As for the picture, I think I deserve this one." Sam told him smiling and nodding. "You have pictures of me doing odd shit," he frowned, "I mean, my brother has odd pictures of me doing odd shit..." he cleared his throat, "It's about time I got a picture like that and those pants are better than anything. Even better than the picture of me sleeping and drooling he has." Sam shook his head as a chuckle worked out of him. "Seriously, you need to take them off before I start having another laughing fit, dude."

Half of what Sam said didn't make perfect sense, but Dean was getting used to it. "You want me to take it off here, before we go to my room? You don't want dinner, or drinks or anything else?" He looked down, yeah... girly, but ... "you want me to change?" He'd paid a helluva lot of money, and Dean was about to give him whatever he wanted for it.

Sam nodded, "Either change or I am going to be doing a hell of a lot of pointing and laughing." he snickered again, reaching up to cover his mouth, "I know I'm drunk, but those pants would be funny sober."

Dean twisted around and basically looked at his own ass. "Hmph... chicks are supposed to like it. Guess that says something about you since you bought me." He grabbed a handful of Sam's shirt and pulled him close. "I'm really glad you won, even if you're going to be on the streets for a while." Smiling, Dean kissed him again and pulled away. "Okay, I'll go change. What do you want to do?"

Sam huffed, "I bought you cause I was the best option you had out there and you know it." Sam told him with a grin before getting pulled in close, making his smile melt away as he licked his lips. Brother. Brother dumbass. Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. Then stop looking at him like he's lunch and you're hungry. I - I... oh shut up!

Sam kissed Dean back, running a hand up and down his bare back before dropping it to his side as Dean pulled away, Shrugging, Sam pressed his lips together, "I dunno. What do you wanna do?" he frowned slightly and leaned against the wall, "I could try to win a little of my money back seeings as if I don't, you'll...I mean, my brother will kick my ass cause we'll be sleeping in his car for a few months." He tilted is head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Just, whatever we do, be kind, I think my ass hurts from them grabbing my wallet so fast," he huffed and rolled his eyes.

Dean chuckled, "price you pay for having such a nice ass. Change. Food. Gambling, and sex... in that order. Wait for me at the bar."

Sam quirked a brow, "At the bar, huh?" he huffed as he pushed away from the wall, arms still crossed over his chest until he stood away from it then dropped them, "You stand me up and I will hunt you down and salt and burn your ass," he teased, eyes narrowed as he reached for the door handle and pulled it open, walking out and down the hall. Okay, so that was seven, right? Two lap dances, a massage, two body shots, the kiss, and then the auction... so why wasn't Dean... well, Dean? Why were they not suddenly blinked outta there and into the Impala? Sam frowned as he walked, trying to figure out the missing piece to the puzzle.

* * *

For the amounts of money Sam had thrown on the auction, he was treated like a king for the rest of the night. He and Dean had a steak dinner and the liquor flowed. Sam had quite the imagination and with all the drinks in him, Dean almost... almost believed his adventure stories. He enjoyed every one of them, his blood rushing as if he were running from the monsters Sam described, and killing them in turn. The guy could be a great Hollywood script writer if he went for it.

They gambled with Sam's left over money. Lady luck smiled on them, and with Dean's help, Sam earned himself a small pile of cash. There were many visits to the bar too, and a couple of progressively wilder body shots, all inclusive as part of what he'd bid for of course. They'd started touching a lot more too, teasing each other, kissing.

They were walking past the elevators, when the doors opened. Dean suddenly pulled Sam inside with him, and whispered in his ear. "Want you, now."

Despite the fact that there were other people with them, he pulled Sam's body up flush against his, and moved his hand over Sam's ass. All the feelings that had run through him when he'd given Sam his massage returned full force, almost taking his breath. He brought his mouth close to Sam's, whispering to him about wanting him naked in bed and all the things they'd do before dawn.

Sam smiled drunkenly at Dean and leaned in more, "Dean... " his gaze darted to the others in the elevator, though he didn't move his head, "there are other people in here with us right now." He pulled his head back and gave Dean his most stern look, the one he usually gave when Dean was planning some stupid stunt or another and Sam knew it would blow up in their faces and told him no way, that they were NOT doing it. He even went to far as to poke Dean in the chest with a finger as he looked sternly at him, though his free hand did slide around and, as the naughty smile split Sam's carefully composed stern face, cupped Dean and squeezed as he bit his lip, hazel eyes darkening slightly with desire. He shook his head at Dean all the same however, as if to prove that he was calling the shots here now, and not Dean anymore.

The mixed messages had Dean a little confused, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted this... wanted Sam, wanted him like he wasn't a client, would want him if money weren't involved, if they'd met at some bar some place. He arched into Sam as the hands on his ass pulled him close. "Don't you think they know what we're going to do?" he asked, touching his mouth to Sam's, just touching, enjoying the thrilling sensations running through him. "Kiss me."

Sam smiled and shook his head, letting his lips run over Dean's. "No," he told him softly, "you have to just wait." He grinned wide, making his dimples show before he abruptly stepped back, letting go of Dean altogether and nearly falling over as he laughed over the look Dean shot him. Stepping closer again, Sam leaned in, his breath ghosting over Dean's ear, "Not so fun not knowing what's going on, is it?" he snickered and pulled away, but took Dean's hand in his and squeezed it, just before the doors opened to their floor.

"Ah... no?" Dean tried to answer the way Sam wanted, then he shrugged at the people in the elevator and was tugged into the hallway. A few steps later, Dean crowded Sam, putting his arms around him. "You're drunk... lightweight," he laughed but studied Sam's face, trying to figure him out. All night long, they'd been in sync, but right now... he wasn't sure what game Sam was playing. Yeah, Sam was right. He pretty much hated not knowing what was going on, so he pressed Sam back against the wall, sliding his hand between them to Sam's chest. "Do you want me?" he asked, uncharacteristically unsure... maybe because for the first time, he cared about the answer.

The laughter died from Sam's face and eyes as he looked at his brother. Biting his lip he raised a hand and cupped Dean's face, his thumb running slowly along his cheekbone. Slowly Sam shook his head and sighed. He hung his head for a few moments not letting go of the side of Dean's face. When he looked back up, his eyes were soft, almost apologetic. "I - I shouldn't. It's not right, I should tell you no, and we should both just go sleep this off and forget about it, but..."

Dean's eyes widened. No Goddamit, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Had Sam just paid through the nose only to... to sleep with him? Sleep sleep. What the hell, why had he lead him to think he wanted more. Yeah, he was being paid, maybe it shouldn't matter, maybe the client could change his mind at any time, but it almost hurt. He'd just gotten used to believing... believing this man would and could do everything he set out to, that he was one who kept promises. That maybe it was more than a business arrangement here... which was dumb...dumb... dumb.

Sam drew in a deep breath and moved his hand from Dean's face as he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, his lips close to Dean's, so close they were breathing one another's breaths. "Yeah, I want you. Have wanted you for a while now tonight," hazel eyes searched his brother's face, waited for Dean to suddenly turn into Dean again and be disgusted, punch him, tell him he was sick, a bad brother, but when none of those things happened, Sam leaned in, slanting his mouth over Dean's kissing him slowly, tenderly.

Heart pounding, partly from fear that he was about to be abandoned, Dean moaned as their mouths touched. It was a slow, exploratory kiss. As if they hadn't shared kisses since the moment Sam had walked into his life. Somehow this was different. Dean didn't know just why, only that it felt different. He started to kiss a little harder, his hands moving over Sam, pulling him closer as he tried to walk backwards down the hall. Need coursed through his veins but something else thrummed right below the surface. Something he hadn't had before. This felt... this felt romantic. It felt... real. Like he wasn't some actor on a stage, but like it was his life, his choice, his lover.

Even as Dean tried to make the kiss harder, Sam kept it slow and loving, forced it to have meaning. This wasn't gonna be just a kiss Dean was getting paid to give but that maybe, somewhere inside, he would feel something and know that this was real, that it was done out of love, that Sam could have cared less if he would have had to come back another night and another one, taken up a collection from hunters, brought in help with researching where he had gone wrong or hell even if he had had to do the unthinkable and hock the Impala for cash to buy his brother back and take the beating he was sure to receive for it after, he would have, gladly, and not batted an eye.

He walked slowly with Dean down the hall as they continued to kiss, each running their hands over the other. Reaching the door of the room, Sam pressed Dean against it, tearing his lips away from Dean's. "My way," he shook his head, "this won't be just another fuck to you or we don't do it. It's gonna go my way." Sam told him breathlessly, hazel eyes intent on green.

"Your way..." Dean was rubbing up against Sam like an eel in heat when Sam's words penetrated through the haze in his brain. "You're not just another fuck, Sam," he locked gazes, shaking his head. "I don't know why you're not, but you're not." He took a few breaths, and worked up the courage to tell him what was on his mind. "We do this, and you see me. Not some... some phantom brother, but me." He had no right to make that demand, but so long as they were keeping this 'real'... he had to ask. "You see Dean Winchester, and nobody else," he said fiercely, jerking Sam closer, jealous of Sam's fantasies about his brother.

Sam's eyes squeezed shut at Dean's words. Yeah, that's what the problem is. I see Dean Winchester, my brother... Okay, I think I'm sobering. This sucks ass. Stop thinking and just do. Yeah, easy for you to say. I'll - I'll gouge my eyes out later... Oh, yeah, cause that'll help so much. Long cold shower? Yeah, that won't look obvious. I could bash myself in the head. That might be a plan. Yeah, wonder if I could do that first. You? HA! You're never THAT lucky. Cursed, remember? Oh, right... See? I tried to tell everyone. Yeah yeah, shut up and fuck your brother. Oh, God, I am so going to hell...

Sam slowly opened his eyes, "I do see you..." he huffed softly and shook his head, "Nevermind, you wouldn't believe it if I told you." Sam mumbled. "Open the door and let's go in... " Sam suggested softly, brushing his lips across Dean's.

Unused to being emotionally involved, Dean was just a little less slick... a little less graceful in opening the door to the small room dominated by a large bed. There was a wrought iron chandelier above the bed, with a set of cuffs on it, a bear skin rug in front of a small fire place, and pictures tastefully depicting sexual scenes. "Come in." Dean backed inside, his gaze sweeping over Sam's throat and chest, wanting so badly to start removing his clothing. "Do you want champagne? Or.." Taking his hands, he dragged him to the bed, sat down and pulled him to stand between his legs. "Me?"

Sam glanced around the room and squeezed his eyes closed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger before he sighed and let his hand fall, eyes opening, "Who does your decorating, Traci Lords?" he shook his head as he leaned down, palms flat against the mattress, making Dean lay back, just by the fact that his body was crowding him in that direction.

Leaning his head down, he ran his tongue along Dean's neck then nipped softly and drew the skin into his mouth, sucking then releasing, only to move on to a new area of his neck and do the same.

Holding still for a few minutes, Dean closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Sam's mouth. "Mmmm, good." There was no doubt about it, he was being made love to. Excruciatingly slow. Unable to take it, he reached up to pull Sam's weight down on him, but Sam pulled away and gave him that stern look. "Wha..." Only when he laid back down, did Sam bring his mouth close again, using it as a weapon of seduction and pleasure.

Moving one hand from the mattress, Sam reached between them and slowly started to unfasten Dean's pants, button then slowly sliding down the zipper. Every attempt by Dean to touch him or help undress him, Sam smacked away, shaking his head, or spoke a loud, "No!" against the skin of Dean's neck.

Dean's heart was going like a jackhammer. He wanted... needed more of Sam. He wasn't used to this, to being stroked and touched and undressed with no demands that he give back. It was intriguing at first, then frustrating. "Let me touch you. Let me feel you, Sam... let me make you hard," he pleaded, moving his head, trying to chase Sam's elusive mouth. "Please... want you so bad. We can... go slow later." As Sam's hand brushed over his unzipped jeans again, he arched up. Already aroused, he wanted out of the restraints of the jeans. "Please." The word came out more as a demand than as a plea as he reached for Sam's belt.

Sam pulled back stepping away from him, though he pressed a hand down in the middle of Dean's chest to keep him on the bed, "What did I say? My way. Sam's gazed moved around the room before swearing softly under his breath, moving back in closer, he reached down, grabbing his brother under the arms and shoving upward on the bed. "Helps.... when..... you help." Sam grunted out as he slid Dean up so his head was on the pillows.

Climbing onto the bed, Sam straddled his hips and reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulling out the handcuffs. "Gimme your wrist, he told Dean as he wrapped the cuffs around one of the bars in the headboard. "You won't hold still, I'll make you hold still." Grabbing one of Dean's wrists, he slapped the cuffs on it, then pulled up his other wrist to do the same. "Now, you can have those back off when I'm done," Sam told him with a satisfied nod, before pulling up and off the bed. Sam toed off his boots then and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt as he looked at his brother, hazel intent on green.

Letting out a heavy breath, Dean looked first at one cuffed wrist, then the other, then up at Sam. He pulled at them in frustration, making metal clink against metal. Lips pressed firmly together, he glared at Sam... not like a client, but like a lover that had prevented him from getting his way. His gaze eventually followed the motion of Sam's long fingers, unbuttoning, getting undressed. God, he could imagine those hands on him. Wanted it right now. And he could tell, the way Sam was staring him down, it wasn't happening any time soon.

Finally reaching the last button, Sam shrugged off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor, then reached for his belt, unfastening it, and his jeans and pushing them down, stepping out of them and letting them stay where they lay as he pulled off his socks. Walking back to the bed in only his boxers, Sam continued to remove Dean's jeans, tugging them down and pulling off Dean's shoes then removing his jeans completely. They landed in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. Tugging off his brother's socks was actually something framiliar, though not usually done when they were this naked, or close to it. But there had been times when one of them had injured their feet and the other had removed the sock in order to get to the wound. The thought made Sam frown just slightly before he shook his head, clearing it of that thought.

He'd lifted himself up to help Sam pull his deans off and was now staring at Sam's perfectly naked body. Yeah he'd seen it before, but he had the feeling he couldn't get tired of looking. Licking his lips, he silently motioned with his chin for him to come back to the bed.

Climbing back onto the bed, Sam straddled Dean, on his hands and knees, so that no part of them were touching, Sam leaned his head down and began kissing his brother's neck again, nipping and sucking the flesh into his mouth, then moved up to his earlobe and nipped it, before his tongue moved over the flesh and he drew it into his mouth sucking softly.

It was about damned time. Lifting his head, he tried to meet Sam's mouth but Sam wasn't aiming for it. His compliaint was cut short by Sam's hot breath on his ear, then his mouth and tongue setting fire to him slowly. Moaning, Dean tried to raise himself higher. It wasn't enough. The kisses were too fleeting. The touches too soft. Needing more, he tried to capture Sam's mouth.

Pulling his head up, Sam looked down into Dean's face, the tip of his tongue running slowly over his full lips, Sam drew away before Dean could catch his tongue . "Aah! What did I say!? My way. Relax. We have all night. Gonna take all night too, kiss and lick every inch of you and not let you do a damn thing but enjoy it, so you might as well give up now."

"Sam." Dean raised his hips as far as he could, seeking just a little friction... a touch, but Sam lifted higher and he just met air. "Dammit. Fuck, Sam... please baby, need you," he pleaded, wanting to feel Sam sliding over him, his leg between his legs, his weight over him. And after he let Sam have his way for a while, he wanted to roll them over, wanted to give him what he'd refused earlier... penetarion. But he couldn't do any of those things. He blew out a breath, tilting his head back and feeling his pulse beating out of control at the base of his throat. "Touch me."

Sam chuckled softly, "I am touching you." he told him softly as he lowered his head again, this time attacking the opposite side of Dean's neck. He did the same there as he had the first side, ending with sucking on Dean's earlobe before pulling his head back.

Everywhere Sam's mouth touched him, his skin burned. Did Sam know, did he realize how he was making him feel, need? It was the sweetest agony, craving, needing Sam with every fiber of his body, and being denied. He opened his mouth to plead again.

"Shshsh!" he told Dean before he had a chance to say anything, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Sam moved backward, down Dean's body, trailing his tongue along Dean's flesh as he went. Sam's warm mouth closed over one male nipple, sucking hard, before pulling away and doing the same with it's twin.

Despite being told to be quiet, Dean was unable to quell the groan that tore from his throat. "Yes... more..." he writhed, trying to bring himself closer to Sam, to the heat of his mouth. His skin had gotten so damned sensitive, every touch had him vibrating with need. As Sam moved lower, blood surged to Dean's cock, making him so fucking hard... so erect, crying out to be touched even as his lover took his time with making love to other parts of him. His stomach clenched tightly, he could barely breath, his eyes laser focused on the top of Sam's head as he made his way down Dean's body.

Continuing down, Sam nipped and licked at the skin of Dean's stomach, dipping his tongue into Dean's belly button and looking up at him under his brows. His mouth moved lower, teeth nipping at Dean's hip bones, first one side and then the other, before moving down to trail kisses down Dean's thighs, slowly making his way to his inner thigh and nipping softly at the flesh there.

Holy fuck He was on fire now, on fire and his lover was still teasing him. "Oh God... Sam... I can't hold still... I can't," he practically shouted, writhing, tryin to force Sam to lick or kiss or touch his cock. "Need you," he growled, lifting his hips again for emphasis. Nothing worlked. Nothing. Sam was relentless in pleasuring him a little at a time. Building his need. Pushing him closer and closer to the edge with no relief in sight. Dean's labored breaths filled the air around them. His eyes glazed over. "Please... oh God please... love me, Sammy. Need you."

"I am loving you, Dean. Really loving you, not using you and throwing you away. You're worth more than that, you know." Sam told him as he continued to kiss Dean's legs, first one and then the other, running his hands up and down them.

He meant worth more than money. Surprise at that sentiment kept Dean silent even under the onslaught of of Sam's too-gentle kisses.

Sam glanced up at his brother's hard cock, standing tall and arching toward his stomach. You realize you're gonna have to... Yeah, I know. How much different than mine can it be? Uh, it's on your brother? Well, yeah, but he's like part of me, so it's kinda the same, right? Yeah, you try tellin' that at the Pearly Gates and see how far that gets you. Yeah, well, I can't very well, say, 'I love you' but, dude I can't touch your dick. Why not, you and Dean have had that unspoken rule like, since birth! Uh, not in this situation and he doesn't know he's Dean. Oh... yeah, but his dick might. So, what I'm suppose to ask his dick now? Okay, that's even dumber than the idea that Dean's part of me so this is okay. Touche'. Yeah... no doubt about it, you're just goin' to hell... might as well pick out his and his lava pools now, cause guess who you're takin' with ya. You know what? Yeah, I know, shut up.

Jaw set with determination, Sam raised his head and reached a hand out, slowly curling his fingers around his brother's shaft. See, it's not that bad. It's okay. No big deal. Sam had nearly convinced himself of that fact until his hand moved, sliding slowly up and down and his brother let out a low moan. Sam glanced up at his brother's face. Oh sure, you've got it all under control, suuuure ya do. Shut up!

Sam continued to move his hand on Dean's cock, slowly pumping him as he trailed licks and bites across the flesh where Dean's legs met his groin, his free hand running slowly up and down Dean's side, hip and thigh.

"Oh God..." Dean could tell this was the first time Sam had done this. Sam's touches were an odd mix of hesitant and sureness, like he was talking himself into this... or through it. At the same time, his kisses and licks were one hundred percent heartfelt. How Dean put all this together when he was on fire, he didn't know. Why he even cared, why he was even thinking of asking the question to which he might not want the answer, he didn't know. "You sure. You sure you want to do this?" he asked, confused, but knowing beyond a doubt he didn't want this man to do anything he wasn't comfortable with or didn't desire with all of his heart. "You... oh God..." he lifted his hip again, unable to stifle the groan of pleasure as Sam's hand squeezed him slightly harder. "... Sam... you said it's for me. What about for you? Do you want this?"

Sam lifted his head and looked up at his brother, his hand sliding up to run across Dean's stomach, fingertips digging in as he pulled his hand acoss his abs. "Yeah, I -" he frowned, "Why would you ask that? I thought that was the whole idea here, you kept telling me."

Sam returned his attention to what he was doing, his hand on Dean's cock. Dean said he wanted a blow job earlier. Yeah and starving people want food. Doesn't mean they're gonna get any. Oh sure, Romeo, you can do everything BUT the big parts. I am NOT putting my brother's dick in my mouth. You've had worse things in there. Name one time. That worm Dean made you eat when you were six. Yeah, well, I might have eaten a worm when I was six, but I am NOT eating my brother's... I'm not stickin' that in my mouth at 26! Forget it. Chicken. Yeah, maybe. So what. Bet he'd do it. Dean does a lot of things I would never do. Oh give it a try. If I puke, it is SO all YOUR fault. I can live with that.

A frown creasing his brow, Sam moved into a little more comfortable position so he could lower his head down again. Just lick... like an ice cream cone. Yeah, I highly doubt ice cream comes in 'my brother's dick' flavor though.

Lowering is head, Sam let his tongue dart out as he stopped pumping his hand on Dean's cock and licked him instead from base to tip.Well? Well what? I don't see you pukin'. Gimme a minute.

He repeated the act again, changing his angle slightly as he made sure to breath his hot breath on Dean's sensitive flesh. You're doin' good, now put it in your mouth. Uh... how about no? It's the SAME thing! No, no, it really isn't. Oh God... yeah, it is. Just do it. Be like Nike. Just do it. Shut up! Pfft! Be like Nike...

Taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes closed, Sam lowered his head, taking his brother's cock into his mouth and sucking as he flicked his tongue against the side.

Dean hadn't been able to formulate an answer, at least a coherent one. Not in this state. But any hope that Sam would increase the pace of their lovemaking died a quick death. Instead, he was tortured with light strokes of that callused palm moving up and down his shaft. Oh God, if he'd only squeeze just a little tighter. If he'd move a little faster. Oh God if he wouldn't tease him with his mouth, bringing it so close... so close and yet too far. Dean's eyes were glued on Sam's mouth.... imagining his cock in its silky warmth, wanting to be wet with Sam's saliva, wanting those lips to be wrapped around him.

By the time Sam relented, Dean's pleas were no longer coherent. "Oh God, I'm gonna die..." was the last thing he said before he had what he wanted.

"Yes, Sammy yes." The urge to fuck Sam's mouth was so damned strong, Dean didn't know how long he could fight it. He did know that Sam was new at this, and that if he pushed too hard he might gag, or want to stop... and right now, right now Dean thought he'd go fucking nuts if Sam stopped. "Yeah ... more... suck me harder," he pleaded, trying to control the urge to thrust.

Well, apparently you don't suck at this. Wait... oh hell, you know what I mean. Wonderful, that's my greatest wish in life. 'hello, my name is Sam Winchester, I hunt demons and ghosts and I believe in and want to kill the boogeyman in your closet...oh, and I suck cock really well.' Yeah, that's been a long time dream of mine. Sam nearly rolled his eyes at himself, but managed to resist the urge.

He tried to suck harder like Dean asked him to, even worked at taking him deeper like Jess use to, but he wasn't so sure he did very well, not that he was getting complaints from Dean, actually he was like his own little cheerleader, urging him on and telling him how good he was doing and what to do now, but he still wasn't so sure he was doing so hot.

Sam hummed around his brother's cock in his mouth as he moved on him, taking him as deep as he dared, for fear he might puke and then pulling back only to take him deep once again. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's shaft, stroking him in time with his mouth, squeezing his dick slightly as he moved. Trying to remember all the right things to do.

So good... the way Sam's mouth glided up and down his cock... the way he squeezed him ... touched him constantly... the sounds he made while his mouth was wrapped around his thick length, vibrating around him... had Dean squirming, writhing, then downright fucking Sam's mouth despite his best intentions. He bent his knees, putting his feet flat on the bed so he could lift himself higher. His head rolled from side to side as the pressure built low in his belly. "Gonna come... gonna come Sam..." he bit his lip and tried to hold on, throwing his head back and arching up. "Sam...."
Sam waited a few more strokes before he pulled his head up, watching his brother as he continued to pump his cock. "Do," he said softly, nodding, "Come for me, Dean," he told him, biting his lip as he watched him.

His balls drew up painfully tight. His fingers curled around the chain linking to the hand cuffs. He tugged on them, lifting his head up, and shouting Sam's name as he went over the edge, shooting ropes of hot cum as he continued to writhe and moan, his body slowly registering the peace that was starting to finally blanket him.

Sam continued to stoke his brother for a few more moments after his orgasm had subsided before slowly pulling his hand away. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on his brother's now flaccid cock, and reached for a cloth he had seen laying near the bed, wiping off his hand. Tossing it onto the floor, he crawled up the bed, straddling Dean's hips, he reached for the cuffs, unlocking them and tossing the cuffs onto the floor on top of his jacket.

Moving off his brother, Sam stretched out on the bed next to him with a sigh as he lay on his side, looking over at him. "See? Wasn't nearly as horrible as you thought it was going to be." He grinned and winked.

"H... horrible... it was awful. Let's do it again," Dean gave a smile and leaned over, kissing Sam's shoulder, then his throat, before falling back to gasp for more air. "For someone who looks so damned innocent, I think you got some wicked in you."

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head, running a hand over his face. "If you only knew..." he muttered softly.