Keep Holding On

The blade cut smoothly down his arm, blood immediately streaming down his arm. It felt alright, but there was a niggling in the back of Sam's mind telling him this wasn't right. That he couldn't kill himself. Dean was out there and would kill him. A laugh bubbled out of a dying throat at that thought.

Banging on the door made Sam lift his head and notice the grey spotting his vision. It was Dean. It was always Dean. Sam could hear the shouts that were always along the lines of "Sammy, open the door." or just "Sam... SAM!"

Sam kept himself on the floor, bleeding out as Dean hit the door with his fist. And like always, a clear "Guess he doesn't want any pizza." could be heard through the wood, and dread would wash over Sam. Dean was supposed to bust in and save him, right? Where was Dean.

"Dean." Sam tried calling out, but his vision was darkening and his voice was merely a whisper. "Please."

And then blackness.

Sam's tears were drying on the pillow beneath him as Dean held his brother close to him.

"Shh, Sammy. It was just a dream. Right here." Dean felt a hand grip his where it rested on his brother's cheek. "Right here."

It had been two years since the day Dean found his little brother bleeding out on the floor of their bedroom. The nightmares used to be frequent, almost every night. Sam never told him if they were of Everett, or of the events afterward, but Dean knew they were bad. Now that a couple of years had passed, they were almost gone. But every now and then, like tonight, Sam would have another one. And Dean could tell when it wasn't just a regular nightmare. Sam would reach out to him, even in his sleep, and cry his name. It would wake him and he would go and comfort his brother.

"Dean." Sam's breaths came out in short pants against Dean's neck. Unfortunately, Dean was a 19 year old boy and Sam was beautiful. Well, handsome was more like it. In the short two years since then, Sam had grown a few inches and now was the exact height of his older brother. He had left pudgy behind, and was getting some very nice muscles.

As Sam's hand moved to pull Dean closer, Dean couldn't help as his erection brushed against Sam's leg. It wasn't appropriate. They hadn't ever fooled around before, even though Dean knew he still loved Sam. And on top of that, Sam had just woken from a nightmare having to do with his enemy, a rapist. Not cool, Dean.

Sam's breath stopped short as he felt the hardness in his brother's boxers. He could then immediately feel that this made his body happy. His length soon matched his brother's and his hand traveled down Dean's back and over his hip.

"Sammy." Dean's hand grabbed Sam's as it made its descent. "No." He pulled his brother's hand back toward their touching chests. He opened his eyes to see Sam staring at him with hurt in his eyes.

"Dean, please. Make it better." Sam pleaded with his brother to help him. He had been waiting for too long for the touch of Dean's hand. He needed it like people in Hell needed ice water. "Please." He nuzzled closer to Dean and brushed lips against his brother's neck. He felt Dean shiver at the touch and smiled against the smooth skin.

Dean could never deny his brother anything. This was his Sammy and he was asking for help. Hell, Dean needed a little helping too if the tent in his boxers had anything to say about it.

Sam felt Dean's arm mirror his previous movement as it traveled over his back and down his side to rest at the top of his boxers.

"Turn over." Dean whispered the order into his brother's ear. The bed squeaked a bit as Sam rolled to face away from Dean. Dean's hand stayed on him the whole time, assuring his brother he wasn't going to make a run for it.

Dean reached forward and slipped his fingers into Sam's boxers. "Lift." The word was followed by Sam's hips lifting from the bed and Dean pulling the cotton shorts down to his brother's knees.

Dean could feel the heat of his brother before he even reached the target; could smell the musk that was Sammy. He placed his lips on his brother's neck and sucked and bit as he placed his hand on his brother's hard cock.

A moan sounded from Sam's mouth and his hips bucked forward into Dean's touch. His brother's lips and teeth on his neck added spark to the fire that was his hand. Dean was rubbing his thumb over Sam's slit and moving his hand up and down the shaft at an incredibly slow and agonizing pace.

Sam had jacked off plenty of times and pretended it was Dean's hand, but this was real, and it was almost too much. He had to keep the moans held in so John couldn't hear him across the hall. If their father had walked in on something like this, Sam was sure all Hell would break loose and both the boys would be dead.

After what seemed like a lifetime of slow, agonizing, beautiful torture, Dean quickened the pace and left Sammy gasping into the pillow as he came; think strings landing on the sheets.

"Fuck." Sam felt Dean's as it moved to his hip and he reached back and grabbed it. He turned his head and faced his brother, eyes almost rolling back in his head at the pleasure that just coursed through him. "Dean... Fuck."

His eyes closed as he turned the rest of his body to face his brother and breathe in the scent of him. All her heard through the ringing in his ears was a laugh and he could almost see the smirk on Dean's face through his eyelids.

Sam snuggled closer to his brother's frame, and despite being around the same size, seemed to fit perfectly into the circle of Dean's arm. He felt so warm and loved and knew that the nightmares would never get him. He smiled into Dean's neck, nibbling a bit like his brother had done to him what felt like forever ago. A gasp sounded from Dean's lips and Sam tried it again. He smiled wider as he snaked his arm down and cupped his Dean through his boxers. This was going to be fun.

+++++

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, head against the cool window, eyes on the clouds. He could remember that night perfectly. It was the first time Dean had ever touched him and he had reciprocated. Just thinking about it made him pull his jacket over his lap.

Yeah, he had loved Jess, but she was gone. And Dean had been there; had rescued him from death. Again.

It had been eight years since Sam had tried to kill himself. He was over it. But the scars on his arms still remained a constant reminder to the mistake he almost made. He ran a finger of the bump of a line on his left arm. He thanked Dean everyday he lived for rescuing him and showing him what he would've missed if he had gone through with it.

Sam turned his head and watched Dean for awhile. A curve of a smile showed Sam that Dean knew he was being watched and Sam had to smile back.

It was hard times for the Winchesters. Dean needed to find their dad, Sam mourned his lost love, but celebrated his found one, and both of them were obviously tense from the eight years apart. Sam wanted that to change right then. But he would wait. Until Dean was ready. When they were young, Sam always pushed and pushed at Dean until his big brother gave into what he wanted. Then he ran away and left Dean with nothing.

It was time he apologized, and making Dean comfortable and un-pushed seemed the only way. He pulled his jacket from his lap and wrapped it around his shoulders as he settled into the seat, eyes falling shut.

+++++

Sam woke up to his head hitting the window full force as the Impala hit a pothole in what seemed to be the parking lot of another shitty motel.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. We're home." Dean punched Sam in the arm and got a glare in return, but just smiled back as he pulled in front of the office. Sam waited in the car as Dean made his way up to pay and get the keys. And he wasn't sad when he got a nice glimpse of ass as Dean stepped onto the curb.

Sam smiled to himself and put his jacket on so he'd be ready to unpack the trunk when they got to the room. It wasn't long until Dean walked back out of the office, got into the Impala, and drove the few yards to their room.


Sam unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. The night was cool and it smelled like downtown. He wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him and he looked around to see the Dumpster right next to him.

He turned to tell Dean how awesome their room was, but didn't see him anywhere. Sam shrugged and went around to the trunk to get his duffel. Finding it locked, he looked at the door that was standing ajar and glared at the Dean he couldn't see. He could've at least opened the trunk for him instead of just blowing unpacking off.

Sam walked toward the open door to find Dean and the keys. Just because Dean wanted to get drunk and sleep in his jeans did not mean Sam didn't want his pajamas. And toothpaste, for that matter. Yuck.

He pushed the door open all the way and took a breath in to yell at Dean, but got that breath taken away as said brother shoved him against the doorjamb and locked his lips to Sam's. Tongue slipped into Sam's welcoming mouth and dueled as Dean pulled Sam toward the bed.

No words were exchanged. Words didn't need to be exchanged. Sam knew it was bound to happen, and he deemed now a perfect time.

He felt the back's of Dean's knees hit the bed and he pulled away from his brother. Dean looked disappointed, but pulled away as well. Sam wanted to see this new Dean that he hadn't seen in four years. Green eyes were still a beautiful emerald and the bow of a mouth was still just as kissable. He pulled his hands away from Dean's lapels, where they were gripped, and placed them on the sides of his brother's neck. Sam smiled. No words, just a smile.

A mirrored smile showed itself on Dean's face and Sam went for those lips. He nipped and sucked and when Dean opened up for him, he explored the hot cavern like it was something completely new to him. Dean moaned in response and met his tongue with Sam's and he was pushed onto the bed.

Dean smirked at Sam taking control. Sam smirked back and pushed Dean's shoulders down so he was lying on his back. Sam followed suit, but turned to the side so he was on his side, facing Dean.

Dean turned, smirk still planted on his face, and pushed Sam's shoulder so he was on his back. The tables had turned, and Sam was just fine with that. He was always more comfortable when Dean, or Jess for that matter, was on top. He might be six-foot-four, but he was a total bottom and could give a shit less.

Dean straddled Sam's waist and leaned forward, seeking a mouth. His hands traveled over Sam's torso and down, under his shirt. He pulled away from his brother long enough to say "Off" and then mouths clashed once more.

Sam reluctantly pulled his hands from Dean's shoulders and started to free himself from his jacket. Dean almost fell off the bed trying to get his own clothes off. Between articles of clothing, they would find each other's lips again and get lost in the feeling. Until Sam would start to buck his hips against Dean, telling him to get off so he could get rid of the denim restraining what they both wanted.

Dean grinded down onto Sam, moaning in his brother's mouth. His hands traveled down and undid the fly of Sam's jeans and shimmied down his brother's body to stand at the foot of the bed and pull them off. Dean couldn't help but stare. It had been four years and now he had Sam all to himself.

He quickly got rid of his jeans and returned to his position straddling Sam. The touch of skin on skin made both men groan and grab each other like it was their last day on Earth. Their mouths and tongues clashed, trying to get everything they missed during the last four years back.

Sam groaned at the touch of Dean's fingers on his cock. It was already hard and throbbing, and Dean's touch made it almost painful. Sam almost yelled when the hand started moving. It's callused fingers rough on his cock made him look into his brother's eyes, almost pleadingly, telling him to hurry up and get it on already,

Dean released Sam's cock and leaned down, kissing and biting his brother's neck. He trailed kisses down Sam's chest, stopping at each nipple and relearning them with his tongue. His brother was moaning above him and he knew that he would explode if he played it romantic. That would be for later.

Sam could feel Dean speed up his progress and he was grateful. He felt like one touch would send him over the edge. He knew it wouldn't, though. Sam didn't come until Dean said so.

He gasped as he felt a finger circling his entrance. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother's face.

Dean knew he was smirking at his little brother below him. He just loved the way he could make Sam react. He pushed at Sam's entrance and watched the quick grimace at the intrusion. Dean leaned over and placed his lips against Sam's as he pushed his finger in up to the knuckle. When he curled his finger inside of his brother, he caught the moan coming from Sam's mouth with his own. The sounds Sam made killed him. He didn't know how he survived without his brother for four years.

Sam's hands were against Dean's face, holding him against him as his brother worked. He wanted Dean as close as he could get. Four years was way too long and he wasn't about to let Dean go. He bucked against his brother when a second finger entered him. He pushed back onto them, fucking himself on his brother's fingers. He moaned into Dean's mouth.

"Dean, fuck. Do it." Sam wanted Dean, now. He couldn't wait any longer. All he heard from his brother was a muffled "m'kay" and then he felt warmth leave him as Dean sat up and reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out a small tube.

Sam laughed and sat up to kiss Dean's chest. "Always such the boy scout."

Dean pushed Sam back down on the bed as he lubed himself and his brother. He pulled one of Sam's legs up and placed himself at his brother's entrance.

The solidness at his ass made Sam's eyes roll back into his head. He moaned and grabbed Dean's hips, pulling him forward. Dean obliged and pushed against Sam. He entered into his brother slowly, watching Sam's face go from pained to needy to content. He felt Sam relax around him and a quiet "Move."

Dean pulled out to his head and slammed back into Sam. The tightness around his cock was so familiar, but seemed so new. He grabbed Sam's other leg and lifted it onto his shoulder, deepening his movements. Sam started moaning, and loud, as Dean hit his spot over and over and over. Dean felt warmth pool at his spine and knew was close. He grabbed Sam's cock in his hand and moved it in time with his thrusts, giving a twist at the end of every pull. He saw Sam shudder and knew his brother was close, too.

The moaning was coming from both of them now, and Sam was sure that their temporary neighbors could hear them through the thin walls. He smiled at the thought and then faltered. He was so close and all he could feel was Dean pounding against his prostate and his hand on his cock. But then he knew that he would get release soon as Dean let go inside of him and he could feel himself be filled up. He let out a short yell at the feeling, loving it.

"Come." Dean loosened his grip on his brother's cock, but kept pumping as he came. Sam bucked into his hand a couple of times and then came, strands of come landing on his stomach and chest.

Dean pulled out of his brother, kissing away the hiss that escaped from his mouth. Sam could only lay there while Dean got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He stared at the ceiling and thought about what just happened and how he had wanted it so bad. And he wanted it again, and again, and again. He never wanted Dean to leave him. He was his rock and his love and he could never leave Sam.

Sam smiled when Dean came back in and cuddled into the side of him. He snuggled into the side of his brother, but a hand on his chest stopped him. He looked up at Dean to see him smiling down at him.

"Welcome back and all, but go clean yourself up before we...you know." Dean pointed between the two of them and shrugged.

Sam laughed and rolled out of the bed and onto his feet. He made sure to show off all the good parts and turned to Dean. "It's called spooning. And before you start making jokes and laughing, you're the one who started it when we were younger." Sam laughed again at the smile on his brother's face, telling him that Dean didn't care how girly cuddling was. That he loved Sam just as much as Sam loved him. Sam turned and headed toward the bathroom. "By the way," he said over his shoulder. "It's good to be back."