Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam and Dean sat in the well-lit waiting room looking stiff and anxious. Sam had his arms firmly crossed, staring at the clock. Dean was leafing through a 2007 edition of Good Housekeeping, rapidly tapping his leg up and down. 6 tips for organizing your closets; ‘that will be helpful for the bunker’ Dean thought.

“Can you fucking stop?” Sam snapped pulling Dean’s attention away from tip #3 (put odds and ends in pretty, yet functional baskets on the top shelf).

Dean glared at him sharply; “nope.”

Sam sighed and resumed his clock staring. Here they were waiting to see a therapist; this was rock bottom. It was finally time to face the fact that he and Dean had not been the same since the Gadreel possession incident and it was taking over their lives. When Ms. Tran came to collect Kevin’s ghost, she guilted them into going. “You boys need to go sort things out NOW,” she had said in her fiercest tiger-mom tone. “You only have each other; life is too short. Look at my poor young son…so young…so dead…” She really twisted the knife in until Sam finally, grudgingly, took the card of one of her acquaintances.

The clock was getting closer and closer to their appointment time and Sam had to actively fight not to start tapping his leg as well. When it was five minutes to the hour, a couple came out of the office walking past the brothers as quickly as possible.

“Looking at gay porn doesn’t necessarily make me gay, Judy!” the man said in a carrying whisper.

“Oh, you are SO sleeping in the den Ted!” the woman, apparently named Judy, hissed back.

Sam and Dean caught each other’s eye and suppressed grins despite the tension between them. When the minute hand hit the hour, a woman who looked to be about the age of 50, covered in a shawl with her greying hair hair twisted up in a loose bun, came into the waiting room.

“Hello you must be Sam and Dean. Please come in.” Her face and voice were kind and warm.

The boys got up stiffly and followed her into her office while Sam glared at Dean for using their real names.

Dean had thought about using fake names as per usual -maybe Geddy and Alex, Neil and Graham, Jimmy and Robert- but he decided that it would be weird enough going to therapy let alone keeping track of pseudonyms while they yelled in front of a stranger.

Although she couldn’t look more stereotypically like a therapist, the space wasn’t as sappy as Dean had envisioned. It was sparsely, yet nicely decorated with a very comfortable looking couch and other chairs.

Sam appreciated that there were no inspirational pictures on the wall of the ‘hang in there’ cat ilk.

“Options," Dean said, grinning nervously, gesturing at the seating area. Sam looked at him with an unimpressed face.

“Sit wherever you two are comfortable," she said, settling into her seat and picking up a notepad.

Sam and Dean awkwardly walked towards the couch, bumping into each other, ultimately choosing the chairs on either side of the couch.

The therapist smiled warmly. “My name is Dr. Sandra Warner, registered Clinical Psychologist, and it’s wonderful to meet you two. Which one of you is Sam and which is Dean?”

Sam opened his very dry mouth to talk, feeling the nervous knots tightening in his stomach, but Dean answered before he could get a word out.

“That’s Sam, I’m Dean, should we just start talking or what’s the deal here?” Dean spit out quickly.

Dr. Warner smiled again noting their obvious body tension. “I understand that coming to therapy can be very nerve-wracking and sometimes overwhelming. It can be difficult know where to start or whether you can be comfortable here.” At this the boys glanced at each other and Dr. Warner could see them relax a fraction.

“You two can sit and relax, there are things I have to go over with you before we begin in terms of limits of confidentiality and informed con-”

“I just don’t trust him anymore Dr. Web-” Sam blurted out

“Listen Doc all I did was protect him and he has been an ungrateful little bitch ever sin-” Dean snapped, talking over Sam.

“Don’t fucking swear at her Dean you-”

“You see what I mean Doc? He is insufferable! Why don’t you take that stick out of your-”

“Awesome Dean,” Sam spat, sarcastically using Dean’s catchword. “Continue to be a dick to me for being angry with you; that’s really fair.”

“He pretty much told me he doesn’t give a fuck about me anymore; if that’s not fucked up, I don’t know what is!” Dean snarled towards Dr. Warner.

Dr. Warner put her hands up gently and both men fell silent.

“It’s good that you are here. There is a lot on both of your chests and much to work through. There are procedures I do need to go through first, however.” She smiled at them both and continued to go through informed consent procedures that are pretty boring which only the boys should suffer through.

“Now let's begin with what you would like to get out of therapy. Dean, why don’t you start.”

The brothers side-eyed each other both with their arms crossed. “I dunno… talking and shit… clearing the air. Whatever’s supposed to happen in therapy," he growled.

“Take your time Dean and think about it for a moment.” Dean looked into her warm inviting face and fought the impulse to bolt. “Try taking a deep breath," she encouraged.

He listened and breathed in deeply. He thought about it for a moment, trying to push his anger aside to come up with an honest response. They had agreed to try to be as honest as they could if they were actually going to do this.

“I just want…for our relationship…to go back to what it was…back to normal,” Dean said somewhat gruffly.

“What are you really saying? Tell Sam.”

Dean considered this frowning. He meant what he said how was that not clear.

Noting that he was struggling Dr. Warner followed up with: “what is the message underneath wanting your relationship back?”

Dean continued to frown. “Umm…I guess it means…” He took another deep breath “I guess…I miss you or whatever," he mumbled at the carpet in front of Sam’s feet, going a bit red.

Sam shifted slightly in his chair keeping his arms clamped tightly. Dr. Warner nodded encouragingly.

“Sam what about you? What would you like to get out of this?” She said, shifting her gaze to Sam.

Since he had longer to think about it, Sam’s answer came more quickly than Dean’s: “I want him to understand why what he did hurt me so badly.”

“Oh, you’ve already let me know loud and clear Sammy," Dean interjected rolling his eyes.

“No, you don’t get it, you’ve never really understood!” Sam shot at him finally looking his brother in the face.

“Okay,” Dr. Warner intervened, maintaining control of the session. “You both did great; those are very valid reasons for being here.” Both men looked sullen and somewhat sheepish for their outburst.

“Now Sam, why don’t you explain to me the incident that brought you two here.”

Sam hesitated wondering how he was going to explain this without Dr. Warner calling the closest in-patient psychiatric unit.

“Umm well…I was hurt, really hurt, from a…um…fight. I was really a goner and told Dean to leave me.”

Dr. Warner’s brow creased momentarily. “You didn’t want him to take you to the hospital Sam?” She wrote suicidality? on her notepad.

“Yah Sam, explain why you didn’t want me to save- uh help you.” Dean looked at Sam smugly.

Sam frowned. “It’s complicated…I didn’t think it would help; I thought I was too broken and that it was my time. But anyway, he didn’t listen to me and then he…he got this other guy I don’t know to help and it was…he was inside me for weeks…uhhh…”

As Dean snickered quietly into his fist, Dr. Warner’s brow creased further. She scratched out suicidality? and replaced it with schizophrenia??

“He got in my head I mean, he brainwashed me, yah…controlled me…”

“If you are struggling to tell me the details, tell me what you were feeling Sam.” ‘Abuse???’

“Small. I felt small and betrayed…and violated," Sam said quietly after taking a deep breath.

Dean stopped smiling and looked down at his hands, his discomfort with this situation growing. “I said I was sorry a million times Sam, what more am I supposed to do," Dean said through clenched teeth as his discomfort turned to anger as it so often did.

“Sam wants you to try to understand his feelings Dean. What are you feeling right now hearing how Sam felt at that time?” She said kindly to Dean.

Dean shook his head and snorted a little laugh. This was pointless and ridiculous. He wasn’t feeling anything but angry.

Sam reflexively tightened his crossed arms, tensing up again, sensing his brothers wall.

“Look at Sam, Dean and look beyond your anger," she said gently.

Dean dropped his head and shook it again before looking over at Sam. The look of sadness on Sam’s face made his anger drain away and replace with guilt and shame.

“I feel…bad," he said, looking back at his hands. She nodded and kept silent giving him space to continue. “I feel…guilty…that I hurt him. That I let that guy into…his life.”

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. Dean was finally starting to open up how he needed him too.

“But fuck Sam, what was I supposed to do, huh? Just let you die? I will never apologize for that; you are sitting here because of me," he snarled, pushing the gross feelings aside in favour of pissiness.

‘Aaaaaand we’re back,’ Sam thought. “Ok Dean, whatever you say," he said, rolling his eyes.

Before they could begin unproductively fighting again, Dr. Sandra intervened: “I want to introduce you to the Four Horsemen.”

They both stared at her wide-eyed.

“Who now?” Dean barked at the same time that Sam snapped, “what?”

Dr. Warner looked back and forth at them disconcertedly. They were both suddenly stiff and alert; on the edge of their seats.

Dean had his hand on his hip remembering just now that they had agreed to leave all weapons at home to avoid the risk of attacking each other in therapy.

Sam’s eyes were darting around the room noting the window and another door behind Dr. Warner.

“Um…” she frowned, got up, and riffled through a file folder on her desk. When she returned, she handed both men an information sheet.

Sam looked down and read The Four Horsemen of Couple Difficulties: Criticism, Defensiveness, Contempt, and Stonewalling. He quickly looked up at Dean who turned to face him. They simultaneously burst out laughing, both leaning back in their chairs in relief.

“First of all, Doc, we’re not a couple, we’re brothers," Dean said, wiping away a tear of laughter.

“Second, we…we’re definitely familiar with these…horsemen.” Sam said through chuckles.

Dr. Sandra stared at them bewildered. “You must be very…devoted to each other to agree to some to see me.” She wrote down trauma response???? and “ATTACHMENT ISSUES,” underlining it three times.

“Um…well that’s ok, I specialize in marriage and couple intervention but certainly the same theories can apply to any close relationship.” She hitched on a smile, regaining her composure, and flashed her eyes towards the clock behind the couch, wondering how much longer she was stuck with these two.

She went on to explain the Four Horsemen, how they affect relationships, and their ‘antidotes.’ She then went over ground rules for communicating such as no interrupting, no speaking in absolutes (always, never) to each other, etc. As the session was nearing its end, she shifted focus to homework.

“Now what I would like you two to explore until our next session is beginning to increase intimacy between you two.”

The brothers both frowned and glanced at each other.

“There is something fractured between you two, but I get the sense that you typically struggle with communicating your feelings and needs to each other. Is that right?”

Both nodded quietly.

Sam was feeling increasingly embarrassed.

Dean was more than ready for this to be over.

“To begin to mend and bring you closer together, working towards intimacy and vulnerability is key. I would like you to focus on activities that will increase intimacy between you two; whatever works for you, as long as it is bringing you together productively. Does this make sense?”

They both were frowning. Sam opened his mouth to say ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ and to get more information and even examples, but Dean overrode him again.

“Yup crystal-clear Doc, we’ll get right on it.”

Dr. Warner stitched her brow again watching Dean stand up. “We still have a few minutes-”

“No no, thanks a bunch Doc. So when do we come back two weeks? Three? A month?” He rubbed his hands together and eyed the door longingly.

Sam stood up feeling disrupted as Dr. Warner looked down at her notepad full of scribbles and question marks.

“I think twice a week for a little while would be best," she said bluntly.

Chapter Text

Sam sulked into the bunker on the heels of his fuming older brother. It had been a very very long ride home.

“Two hundred fucking dollars," Dean grumbled again, grabbing an apple pie from the fridge and a glass and plate from the cupboard, slamming everything he came in contact with. He manhandled a piece of pie onto the plate and poured himself a very generous whiskey, not looking up as Sam sat down across from him with a stony expression.

“How many more times are you going to bitch about it?” Sam asked leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms.

“Do you realize how much pool we’ll have to play to pay for this? Two hundred dollars twice a fucking week? We can’t seriously be that fucked up.”

Sam shrugged and shook his head at his brother, sighing.

“All that emotion crap, do you really buy into it?” Dean grumbled as he dug into the piece of pie with vigor.

“Honestly? Yah, I liked talking about it, Dean.” Sam’s tone was sharp.

Dean looked up at Sam and drained his glass. “Enough to spend all that money and time going back and forth torturing each other?”

“It’s important to me. I want you to take it seriously; you said you would.” Sam sounded defeated this time and was therefore surprised to see Dean solemnly nodding.

“I know Sammy, I know, you’re right.” Picking up on his brother’s plea, Dean was finally softening.

Feeling better from this acknowledgment, Sam got up to get himself a glass and matched his brother’s generous pour of whiskey. They drank in silence for a few minutes, Dean’s demeanor visibly lifting as the booze, sugar, and chemicals coursed through him.

After some idle chitchat about the experience, including how Dr. Warner needs to update her magazines and now hot her receptionist was, Sam asked: “So, what do you think she meant at the end?”

“What do you mean?” Dean replied, pulling his thoughts away from giving the receptionist the ol’ Dean charm next time they went to the office.

“The, uh, intimacy thing…” Sam said, picking a piece of crust off the pie and popping it into his mouth to busy his hands. He knew he was a word or two away from his brother shutting down again.

“Oh that…” Dean cleared his throat and continued with a deeper, growly tone; his typical defense to touchy feelies “I dunno…hugs and other girly shit I guess," he shrugged and took a long draw of his refilled whiskey. 

Sam steeled himself. “I thought about it on the way home between your bitching and moaning. I wonder what intimacy is supposed to really look like. The concept seems obvious, but what are we actually supposed to do.”

Dean frowned at Sam pensively licking his fork. “I dunno,” he repeated. Dean thought about what the therapist possibly could have meant. “I’m not going to start holding your hand if that’s what it means Samantha.”

Sam smirked at him, rolling his eyes.

Dean poured a fourth glass of whiskey and plopped a second piece of pie on his plate. “I mean the obvious thing is sweet sweet, tender love making," he said in a mocking, high pitched tone kicking his brother under the table to get a rise out of him.

“Ew, Fuck off you ass," Sam said grinning, shaking spilled whiskey off his hand.

“You saying you don’t want to get intimate with all this.” Dean gestured vaguely to his body giving him a pinched model face.

“Definitely not. You’re not my type; too hairy.” Sam poured himself a third glass.

Dean looked at him in mock insult “How dare you, you wish you looked this manly, you preteen boy.” At which Sam kicked him back, hard.  “Ow, fuck, uncle," he said through chuckles pitching another chunk of pie crust at his brother. They hadn’t joked around this much in months and Dean had to admit it felt good.

“Seriously though, we need to figure out what to do and do it fast so that we don’t have to give that woman a fortune. I don’t want to drag this shit out.” He finished the last bite and pushed the plate away from himself.

Sam glared at him exasperatedly.

“Ok, ok and so that we can actually just be…better with each other. You haven't exactly been a picnic to be around you know, Sammy.”

“Oh, and you’ve been a peach.” Sam started to get the sharp tone again.

“The peachiest," Dean grinned, lifted his ass off the chair, and smacked it which had the intended effect of making Sam laugh again.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was some affection in Sam’s voice now.

“So why don’t you just do what you do best and research it. How to be touchy feely to get closer or whatever; vulnerable." Dean said the last word as if it was blasphemous to utter it.

Dean leaned back and put his feet up. He was feeling more relaxed nearing the bottom of his fourth glass.

Sam stood to get his laptop feeling optimistic about his brother’s good mood and compliance. After some typing, he said: “there’s nothing really about brothers and intimacy other than little kid stuff, like playing make believe and telling secrets.”

“Well she’s a couple’s therapist so she’s probably thinking of a couple solution.” Dean was tipping back his chair trying to reach the fridge from where he was sitting to get a beer. He decided not to have a whiskey hang-over in the morning.  

Sam began searching couples, marriage, and intimacy as Dean gave up and went over to the fridge. After silently getting confirmation from Sam that he would like one too, he threw a bottle to his brother which Sam caught easily. Dean smiled slightly to himself twisting the top of his own bottle; they were getting their rhythm back. Maybe there was something to talking about their gross feels after all.

Sam’s brow got further and further stitched as he looked at article after article. “She can’t possibly have meant this.”

“What do you mean?"

“It’s all...sex stuff," Sam said, crinkling his nose in disgust.

“Like sex, sex? Like…” He went to do his usual sex hand gesture but decided to modify it by tapping his index fingers together.

“Well, it says…touching, kissing, massage, foreplay…” Sam trailed off seeing his brother’s disturbed expression.

“Looking into each other’s eyes? I am not doing that gay shit with you that’s for damn sure. What else?”

“Then just sex. You do the froufrou shit with the goal to help your sex life.”

“Why wouldn’t they just go straight for the finish line and skip to sex.” Dean chopped the air with his hand. “Easy peasy.”

“Wow Dean, those girls you sleep with sure are lucky," Sam sneered, grinning.

“Shut up, I’ve got moves you could never dream of." Dean flicked his bottle cap at Sam. “But seriously, the Doc could not be suggesting we fuck, c’mon now.”

Sam shrugged “I really don’t know…” He looked around the computer screen feeling lost. “What if she is," he mumbled.

Dean looked at Sam seriously, putting his feet on the floor and sitting upright. “What if she is? We’re brothers, that’s what.” He finished his last sip observing his worried looking brother. “Is that something you think you could really do? Let me tap that ass?”

“Woah, woah, woah, who says it would be you fucking me?” Sam said grinning despite the horrific subject matter, feeling the effects of the booze.

“Please, just because you are a sasquatch does not mean you could dominate all this man.” He resumed gesturing to his fit frame. “I’m clearly the top here, everyone thinks so when they mistake us as a couple.”

“Whatever you say," Sam replied sarcastically.

As much as he was having fun with his brother again, he was getting over the back and forth and seeing his brother worry. “Listen man, whatever you want me to do I’ll do it, ok? Whatever intimacy is supposed to look like, whatever it means, if it will make us go back to normal, then fine. Just make a decision," he said in a fatigued voice.

Sam blinked at him “You’d do whatever it took…for me?”

“You got it bro. Even if it really comes down to fucking that ass,” he shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the thought. “I really just need this conversation and,” Dean now gestured to the space between them “this brokenness to end.”

“Are you drun-”

“I’m feeling it but, no. You’ve made it clear that this therapy shit is important to you to get passed this thing with us. And if this homework is important to the therapy and if by homework, she really means…sex…then…I guess…cheers Sammy.” Dean looked into Sam’s face with no hint of sarcasm or fucking with him on his face.

Sam didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been serious about them considering having sex, but now that his brother was being so open-minded and willing, he didn’t want to start quibbling back and forth again.

“Who knows maybe it really will bring us closer; they did it in ancient Greece and those guys seemed happy," Dean said, grabbing Sam’s bottle and downing the last of his beer.

Chapter Text

The brothers stood in Dean’s room looking at the bed. He had the larger bed despite the clear height difference between them; Dean was always faster at calling dibs.

“Are we really doing this?” Sam said awkwardly crossing his arms. They didn’t feel right dangling by his sides.

“I guess we have to, right? Let’s just get on with it, I don’t want to lose my buzz. Get stripped Sammy,” Dean said, pushing his brother roughly in the chest.

“Woah, I’m not ready to just suddenly be naked we need to work up to that!” Sam looked at him wide-eyed and shoved him back.

Dean shrugged with a ‘suit yourself’ expression and took his jacket off, revealing his usual flannel button down over a t-shirt.

“Are you even going to be able to do this? You drank a lot, old man,” Sam grinned, kicking Dean’s jacket aside that he had left in a heap on the floor, and added his own

“Would a horse not be able to perform after a couple whiskeys? Please, Sammy, don’t insult me.”

“So, should we…should be start by…kissing?” Sam said feeling a bit relieved that his brother was skill joking around with him and keeping it light.

Dean nodded and swung his arms back and forth, steeling himself. “Yup, yup…ok I’m going to come towards you then I guess.” Dean inched his way towards Sam and placed him squarely in front of himself by roughly directing his shoulders. “Ok, I’m coming in.” He leaned forward, face getting closer and closer to his brother’s until their noses touched. At this, Sam flinched, throwing himself backward.

“Arg, this is too fucking weird!” Sam jumped on the spot shaking off the nerves, grinning anxiously.

“Would you fucking stand still I was almost there!” Dean ran his hands through his hair, feeling frustrated and nervous.

“OK ok ok, I got this. Start again.” Sam positioned himself and squatted a fraction so that he would be more aligned with his brother.

Dean snickered and proceeded forward again “Ok…here I go.” He placed his hands on either side of Sam’s head and pet his hair slightly. “It’s like a girl, yah, you’re like a girl, A tall…scruffy…musky girl,” he said quietly, psyching himself up.

“I’m definitely not, but whatever helps you out, Dean,” Sam said, trying to stop from grinning.

“Dude, your hair is really soft, what do you use?”

“What? I don’t fucking know! Just get on with it!” he snapped, regretting his crouch now as knees started to talk to him.

“Ok, ok…hold still.” Dean pulled his face closer to his brother’s and as Sam felt his breath on his face, he jerked back out of his hands again.

“DAMNIT SAMMY!”

“You’re freaking me out! You narrating what you’re doing it not helping!” They were both pacing around now.

“Ok fine, you don’t want a warning?” He grabbed Sam roughly by his flannel shirt collar and smashed his tight, pressed together lips against Sam’s mouth, hard.

“ARGG fuck Dean, soften your lips you psycho!” Sam reached out and squeezed Dean’s cheeks to push his lips out comically.

Dean slapped Sam’s hand away and shoved him in the chest again, this time harder, making him stumble backwards against his dresser. “Fuck you, I’m trying! How am I supposed to do this with that bitchy look all over your face?”

“If that’s how you try, I’m surprised any girls want to fuck you," Sam sneered smirking at him, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

The next thing he saw was his older brother lunging at him and tackling him to the floor. Dean landed several jabs to his brother’s stomach and got a face slap in before Sam threw him off growling. He got Dean into a head lock for a few moments, slapping him in the face before Dean overpowered him again and pinned him against the floor, straddling him.

“Give up Sammy; I’m stronger,” he panted, grinning

“More like heavier.” Sam squirmed but it was no use. Dean’s hands were around his forearms pressed firmly down above his head.

Dean looked down at his brother and without giving it much thought, taking advantage of having him still, he leaned down and roughly kissed Sam with more relaxed lips.

Sam frowned and blinked up at him as Dean pulled away. “No good?” Dean questioned, cocking his head to the side a bit and searching Sam’s eyes.

“Better…I guess…” Sam averted his brothers gaze.

Dean smirked watching his little brother flush. Dean leaned down and kissed him more softly. The feeling of Sam’s lips was…kind of nice…just like a girl. So nice that he felt his eyes fall shut.

Sam’s thoughts were racing; what the fuck were they doing? On the floor kissing his brother, a man, and he…didn’t hate it. It felt very strange to not be the one in control, but as the kiss continued, his body stopped straining under his brother’s weight, giving into it.

Dean broke the kiss. “Tell me again that you’re surprised girls want to fuck me,” he said quietly, raising an eyebrow and smiling slyly.

“Ok, ok yes, you’re a panty dropper, now get off of me,” Sam said quickly, rolling his eyes. He continued to flush; he could feel the heat of it all over his face.

Dean stood up feeling like we won a battle and offered a hand to his brother. Once Sam was up, Dean plopped himself down on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him dramatically. “Come on over Sammy.” He gave him a wink. This wasn’t so bad as long as he felt like he could laugh about it.

Sam looked at him dubiously, patented bitch face plastered on with full force.

“Common, truce, I won’t hurt you ok?” Dean patted the spot again.

“Listen…I’m not…the girl ok?”

“Could have fooled me,” Dean retorted, grinning.

“I mean it, just because we agreed that you would be the top doesn’t mean that…that…”

“I get it Sammy. I’m taking the lead but that doesn’t mean I think you’re any less manly, alright? I mean, in a few minutes it’s going to be literally impossible to ignore that you’re a man.” Dean pointed at Sam’s pants. “I’ve definitely never worked with one of those before other than this bad boy.” He gestured to his own lap.

Sam relaxed a little, feeling better getting that off his chest. He sat next to his brother and took off his flannel, throwing in on the jacket pile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, he’s back in.” Dean followed suit so that they were both in just their t-shirts. “Shall I start again or do you want to be the big, tough man?”

Sam glared at him, put a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and kissed him firmly. Wanting to one-up his older brother, he opened his mouth slightly, parted Deans lips with his tongue, and gently probed his mouth. Dean made a ‘mmph’ sound.

Sam pulled away and narrowed his eyes “No good?”

Dean shook his head his eyebrows raised, a handsome flush blooming on his cheeks. “No Sammy that was…it just surprised me that’s all…I think…I liked it,” he said gruffly, and cleared his throat.

Sam smiled. He was glad his brother was under the influence enough to be so honest; his words made him feel relieved and oddly…proud? Shoving down that particular feeling, he began kissing Dean again, reintroducing his tongue. He tasted the whiskey, beer, and traces of apples and cinnamon and felt a jolt of pleasure in his stomach. What was weird was that it really wasn’t that weird at all. Now that they were at it, it felt just like kissing anyone else.

Dean’s brow furrowed as he kissed his brother back with more vigor, bringing his hands up into Sam’s hair. This was definitely working. All he had to do was keep the thoughts away that it’s a man, his brother, and that what they were doing was so very very wrong. In a practiced move, still kissing him, Dean leaned Sam back so that he was laying on the bed and slid his hand under Sam’s shirt.

Sam shivered slightly as Dean ran his callused hand over his stomach. He figured Dean’s hands would feel rough but he didn’t anticipate how gentle his touch was.

It was strange for Dean to not to feel the curves of a woman under the t-shirt but Sam’s soft skin was more than making up for it. He began appreciating the feel of Sam’s muscle under the skin as he slipped his hand higher, brushing his fingertips over his chest. It was going perfectly, until he opened his eyes slightly to check on Sam’s reaction and caught a glimpse of Sam’s long, gangly legs hanging awkwardly off the bed. He snorted laughter into Sam’s mouth.

“What?” Sam said stiffening, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“Your dumb fucking legs; scoot up onto the bed,” he said, suppressing laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Dean followed him lying next to him on his side. “Were you looking for tits before?” Sam taunted his brother.

Dean barked a laugh. “You know what? I think, subconsciously, I was.”

Sam sat up to peel off his shirt. “So that there isn’t any more confusion.” He threw it in Dean’s face.

“You’re such a little shit you know that?” Swiping the shirt aside, he jabbed a finger in his brother’s ribs before pulling him down into another deep kiss.

Dean pushed Sam onto his back again, broke the kiss, and experimentally kissed his neck; his typical next move with the ladies. The skin was tougher but his scent was comforting and familiar.

Sam inhaled sharply as Dean’s stubble scraped gently along his neck following the trail his lips were making. He wasn’t entirely sure if he liked it, but it definitely didn’t feel bad.

Noting that Sam wasn’t stopping him, Dean kissed along his collar bone allowing his hand to glide gently down his torso.

As it turned out he liked it, a lot. Sam felt an undeniable movement in his jeans to which he snapped his eyes open and sat up quickly.

“Woah, sorry man; too far?” Dean said, feeling sheepish.

“No, no I’m just freaking a bit um…” Sam pushed his hair off his face. “I uh…felt something.”

An impish grin spread across Dean’s face “Sammy…did it move?”

Sam put his face in his hands and nodded.

“Well that’s…good right? We need that if we’re going to pull this off,” Dean shrugged.

“It’s just too fucked. I’m enjoying…my brother…touching me…kissing me…”

Dean tugged Sam’s hands away “Does it help that I like it too? Look.” He pointed to his lap where there was definite growth happening. “Why don’t you take over so you don’t feel so weird. I think I feel ok because I’m leading.” Dean took off his shirt and laid back down. “Come at me bro!” he said in his best professional wrestling voice.

Sam laid down again and gingerly ran his fingertips over his brother’s hairy chest.

“Oooooo yah, that’s the good stuff,” Dean said jokingly.

Sam glared at him. He leaned down to kiss his neck.

“Mmmmm, tingly.” The same jokey tone.

At this, Sam roughly ran his hand down Dean’s torso, and began unbuckling his belt.

“Woah ok, kicking it up a notch huh?” Dean grinned at his brother’s boldness, feeling a pleasurable dip in his stomach, bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.  Dean pulled his brother’s mouth towards his while Sam’s long fingers finished with the belt buckle, popped open the button, and unzipped his pants. His breathing became heavier as he kissed Sam more passionately.

Sam straddled Dean continuing to thrust his tongue into his mouth, his breathing matching Dean’s. He felt his brother getting harder underneath him and shoved the weirdness away in favour of feeling satisfied that he finally shut him up. He shifted his weight slightly and slipped a hand between his legs to press his hand firmly against his older brother’s cock. He moaned in burst of surprise against Sam’s lips.

“Holy shit. This is happening,” Dean panted.

Sam slid off of Dean, giving him more room to squeeze his cock through his boxers, making Dean fully hard.

“Fuck, Sam.” He tipped his head back and felt his abs contract to the attention he was receiving. He knew that Sam was being competitive and a bit petulant, but if the result felt this good, why not let him continue?

“It’s weird you still wear boxers; don’t you find they bunch?” Sam asked getting up and tugging his brother’s pants down.

Dean kicked them off the rest of the way. “Are we going to chit-chat or are you going to actually do something with my dick?” He was far too horny to keep up the banter now.

Sam stalled by slowly undoing and taking off his own pants. He now had a full view of his brother’s fully erect cock poking through the vent of his boxers; it was a monster, thick and long. He swallowed dryly. They did not discuss this enough and he definitely didn’t anticipate blow jobs being on the menu, since even kissing felt impossible an hour ago. Then he thought of how nice Dean was being; open-minded and accommodating for once. It wasn’t like eating pussy felt normal, or even good, the first time he did it, and at least he knew how he liked his own dick sucked.

“Whiskey,” Sam said, taking a deep breath, continuing to gaze at Dean’s member as if it was his Everest.

Dean propped up on his elbows to grab the emergency bottle of booze on the nightstand. He took a swig himself and passed it to Sam, searching his face in an attempt to read him.

Sam took two big swallows and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, thinking about how he wanted to go about doing this. “Take those off and sit on the edge of the bed.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned incredulously. He stood and slowly pulled his boxers down revealing his lower abdomen muscles before exposing himself to his little brother and letting them fall to the floor.

Sam goggled at him. He had seen him shirtless on brief occasions, when they were on the road staying in hotels, but he had never seen his brother fully naked before. Seeing him like this he could finally appreciate why receptionists, servers, concierges, hell, most women and particular men, eyed him with longing. He was objectively a very attractive man.

Dean had his hands on his hips “You sure about this Sammy?”

“Sit.”

Dean did as he was told and had to look away as his brother got on his knees and positioned himself between his thighs; it was far too surreal.

Sam took a deep breath, gripped the base of Dean’s dick, and slid the head into his mouth. He tasted the saltiness of Dean’s precome, which was fairly off-putting, but once that sensation went away, the feeling of the soft, smooth skin in his mouth wasn’t terrible. He then allowed Dean’s cock further into his mouth and experimented with sucking.

Dean quickly inhaled and made a stifled groan, continuing not to look down to see his brother’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

Sam couldn’t help but feel spurned on by Dean’s reaction. He tightened his lips and moved his head up and down the shaft, pausing to suck harder on the tip; a move he, himself enjoys.

Dean convulsively put his hands in Sam’s hair and bit his lip to stop from making noise. A mouth was a mouth, but he still didn’t feel completely comfortable moaning and groaning for a guy.

Sam grinned around Dean’s cock, feeling him tense up and restrain himself. He shoved Dean’s cock as far as it would go into his throat and suppressed a gag. He then ran his tongue hard along the vein under his dick and sucked.

“Hnnn FUCK Sammy,” Dean barked, fisting his hair.

Sam quickened his pace bobbing his head up and down.

“Sam…Sam, st-stop,” Dean stuttered

Sam didn’t stop.

“SAM STOP!” He shoved his brother off of him and leaned forward, forearms on knees, breathing hard “Dude, I was going to come.”

“Oh fuck, thanks for warning me. Do you want me to finish you with my hand?” Sam asked wiping the spit from his lips.

“No.” He answered with difficulty. “We’ve come this far I don’t want to waste it this early when we haven’t fucked yet.” His face was still screwed up trying not to come, going through his mental rolodex of dug up bodies in various stages of decomposition, mangled corpses in morgues, and hideous hotel room art. “Have you been with a guy before? Jesus, your fucking mouth.”

Sam grinned standing up, the front of his boxer briefs soaked with precome. “Nope, I’m just good at shit I guess.”

“You cocky ass.” Dean swatted at Sam but he dodged it. “Come here.”

Sam obeyed and stood in front of Dean.

“What are these, boxer briefs?” Dean asked placing his hands on Sam’s hips and rotating him to get a view of Sam’s ass.

“Yah, they’re way more comfortable.”

“They look really…flattering.” He snapped the waist band as Sam turned to the front again, causing him to flinch. Sam shoved Dean hard in the shoulder in retaliation and in return, Dean swiftly stood, yanked Sam’s underwear down, and threw him on the bed.

Dean stood for a moment looking down at his little brother, his gaze gliding over his thin but muscular frame, noting that what were once awkward limbs, were now perfect proportions. He also could not avoid an eyeful of Sam’s huge cock, dripping with precome. ‘That little fuck is longer than me,’ he mused in his head.

“Jesus Sammy, when did you become a man?” Dean said quietly, sitting next to him, fingertips tracing the scars from their many hunts on Sam’s otherwise perfect torso.

Sam shrugged, eyes closed to Dean’s gentle touch. He felt so inexplicably comfortable.

Dean grabbed the discarded bottle of whiskey and took a healthy swig. He then looked at his naked, stretched out brother and decided to start at the spot on his neck that made his cock twitch. He then tried kissing Sam’s chest and didn’t mind at all that Sam was making quiet noises of pleasure and running his hand over his back, seemingly absent mindedly. He made his way down, kissing more and more roughly, to the point of no return and eyed Sam’s bobbing, hard cock.

“Sammy…I don’t think I can put that thing in my mouth.”

Sam smirked at him “You pussy; I did it!”

“Yah, well either you’re more brave or more stupid than me; whichever makes you feel better,” he said, wrapping a hand around Sam’s needy dick, squeezing firmly.

Sam pitched his head back and moaned, feeling his stomach clench. Dean left him momentarily and returned with something from his nightstand. Sam felt cold drips on the head of his cock and startled.

“The fuck?”

“Relax it’s just lube,” Dean said, stroking his hand up and down Sam’s member with a light grip, distributing the thick gel.

“Why do you- have that- w-we never have girls here,” Sam managed between sharp intakes of breath.

“Maybe I like to treat myself when I jerk off, you know, self-care,” Dean said with a hint of pride.

Sam snickered at him but an extra hard tug on his cock pulled the smile off his face replacing it with a dropped jaw.

Dean smirked and gave Sam the treat of his best grips and tricks, stroking him to the edge of orgasm and slowing him back down twice.

“You’re…fucking killing me Dean.” Sam’s fists were clenching Dean’s comforter.

“Should we get this thing going then Sammy? I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” His eyes dipped down to his throbbing, ignored cock, his breathing heavy.

Sam bit his lip. “Yah, ok.”

“Get on your hands and knees,” Dean ordered, standing up.

Sam nervously obeyed, feeling fairly self-conscious.

Dean looked at him and gave his head a firm shake. He was up close and personal to his little brother’s asshole but he was so desperately aroused, he didn’t give a fuck.

Sam felt Dean squirt lube on his asshole and then felt the head of Dean’s dick press against him. He immediately and instinctively tipped forward, pressing himself flat against the bed on his elbows.

“What the fuck, Dean; you’re just going to shove it in??” His voice was high and panicky.

“Yah? That’s what they do in porn.” Dean scratched the back of his head, frowning.

“I dunno Dean, you’re going to rip me open with that thing. Haven’t you ever done anal?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not like I’ve had that many dating opportunities. My long-term girlfriends weren’t into it and it’s not exactly something you push for with one-night stands.” He smacked Sam’s tight ass to distract himself from the momentary embarrassment that rose within him. “Have you? You seem too vanilla.”

“No…” Sam said sheepishly. “I just know that’s like zero to one hundred too quickly.”

“Ok, ok assume the position again let me try…touching you a bit.”

Sam slowly got back on his hands and knees, feeling much less confident with this endeavor.

Dean took a deep breath and told himself to be patient. He centered his hand on Sam’s ass and rubbed his thumb over his asshole in small circles.

Sam groaned quietly.

Dean gently pushed the tip of his thumb against Sam’s hole and when Sam did not resist, he pushed the tip inside.

Sam gasped, his head dipped, chin hitting his chest. “Fuck, keep going.”

Dean obliged pushing his thumb inside his brother slowly until he was passed the second knuckle. He then experimented with pulling it in and out slowly. He felt Sam’s muscles contracting and relaxing against his digit. He decided that it was just like a stronger pussy and he was positive he knew how to satisfactorily finger those.

“Unnhhh…” Sam moaned. This was the first time something was put inside his ass, and although the sensation was bizarre, he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Dean licked his lips. He was actually getting off on making Sam feel good. He retracted his thumb, lubed up the rest of his fingers and slowly inserted his index and middle finger.

“How’s that Sam…you like that?” Dean murmured, closing his eyes in an attempt to quell his desire to take his brother. His free hand was trailing up and down Sam’s thigh matching his brothers deep, slow breathing

“God yes,” Sam said breathlessly. “I’m like…crazy hard right now.”

“Good Sammy…I’m serious, I need to fuck you.” His voice was deep, borderline growling, with mounting lust.

Sam shivered at his brother’s direct, assertive tone.

Dean wiggled his fingertips, bending and unbending them inside Sam causing him to swear loudly, arching his back. “Jesus fuck, keep doing that right there…”

Dean smirked and complied, giving Sam another little smack on the ass. “Did I find your g-spot bro?”

Sam nodded frantically pushing himself back onto Deans hand; he had never felt such a full body pleasure.

Picking up on Sam’s mounting desperation, Dean added a third finger, causing Sam to make his loudest moan yet. He stretched the fingers apart, noticing that Sam felt much more pliable than when he had started, and rubbed his prostate again to really prepare him.

“Sammy…I think you’re there now.”

“Do it…Dean, please,” Sam said, dipping his hips so that Dean’s fingers slipped out of him.

Dean quickly slathered his cock with lube and positioned himself behind Sam, hands on his sharp hipbones.

“Wait…” Sam interjected sharply, feeling nervous butterflies explode in his stomach.

Dean growled in frustration. “What, now?”

“This just…doesn’t feel…very intimate,” He said over his shoulder.

In a quick movement, Dean gripped Sam’s hip firmly and yanked it hard to the side, causing Sam to flip onto his back. He positioned himself between his thighs and angled his hips so that his cock pressed against Sam’s hole again. He raised an eyebrow, looking at him with intense lust-filled eyes, silently asking for permission.

Sam nodded, closing his eyes, biting his bottom lip, trying to steady his breathing. He felt his brother slowly push himself inside and his eyes and jaw fell open. He saw his shock and pleasure mirrored on his older brother’s face.

Dean remained still for a moment gauging his brother. His heart was pounding and it was taking all his effort to go slowly.

Sam nodded again breathing deeply, adjusting to the pain.

Dean leaned down onto his elbows so that he could feel his brother's hard, hot dick pressed against his stomach; this was a new one. He slid his cock back half way and slowly pushed back into his brother, groaning low. Sam’s ass felt amazingly tight and warm. He had to admit that it felt better than anything he ever had his cock in. He pushed in and out with shallow and slow thrusts.

The pain was ebbing and being replaced by deep waves of tingling warm pleasure. Sam moaned softly.

Dean pressed his forehead against Sam’s chest to steady himself as he gently fucked his brother. The sensation of his brother’s tight ass rippling around his cock, their skin pressing together, Sam’s scent, was overwhelming. Sensing that his brother could take more, Dean pulled his cock out to the tip and thrust back inside Sam harder.

“Fuck...” Sam moaned tipping his head back, his hands finding their way to Dean’s back, running them up and down.

“Oh God Sammy you feel…this is…” Dean was never good with words, but finding them now was impossible.

“Fuck, I know.” He lifted his head to kiss his brother deeply as Dean continued to thrust harder.

After exploring Sam’s mouth with his tongue, Dean broke the kiss and roughly kissed Sam’s neck, licking a trail down to where it met his shoulder, biting down.

“Fuck me Dean…fuck me hard,” Sam growled.

Dean groaned low around Sam’s skin. He felt his cock throb inside Sam’s ass at the command. He lifted his torso away from Sam to hold his sharp hips to anchor himself as he started thrusting more roughly and deeply, all the way to the base of his cock.

“Your fucking ass Sammy…Jesus Christ.” He felt the pressure mounting, his stomach was clenching tight. Any thoughts that this was wrong were the furthest thing from his mind.

“Oh God yah…Dean your cock…you’re so…” His hands raked over Dean’s chest leaving red trails from his fingertips digging in. His brother looked so in command, confident, powerful. It felt so incredible to be taken by him like this.

“Thanks man I try,” Dean grinned, fucking him hard and steady. “Fuck Sammy. I don’t know how long I’m going to last here…”

Sam pressed his eyes shut and nodded his head, gripping the sheets, indicating to Dean that he too was getting close already.

Dean looked down at him taking in his beautiful face, his smooth tan skin on his chest and stomach, and then his ignored cock. Dean spit on the palm of his hand and began stroking it using a firm grip.

“Unnhhh, God Dean, I’m close,” He grunted, eyes still closed in ecstasy.

Dean’s bottom lip was firmly clenched between his teeth, sweating all over and feeling his balls tighten. He watched Sam’s body language and knew that he was a couple strokes away. Hammering his ass hard he got himself to the brink.

“Sammy look at me!” He blurted out without censoring himself.

Sam’s eyes snapped open and locked onto Dean’s. He instantly felt his brother's cock bursting inside of him. The sensation along with the attention to his dick was enough to send hot ropes of come all over his stomach and chest.

“Holy-” Sam started

“Fuck,” Dean finished, collapsing on top of his little brother, panting.

Sam wrapped his arms around him not caring about the slick sweat on his back.

Dean let out one last low groan as he shifted his hips to pull out of Sam. He propped up on his elbows to kiss Sam again softly before peeling himself off of him to stand up.

Sam instantly got into his head, gratified smile fading from his mouth. The show was over, Dean was likely withdrawing again back behind his wall.

Dean grabbed a towel and wiped his brother’s come off his stomach and his own off his cock. He threw the towel at Sam and jumped back on the bed causing Sam to bounce against him. “Jesus, is it bad that that was so good?” Dean asked crossing his arms behind his head closing his eyes in a blissful expression.

Wiping himself off, Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise watching his relaxed brother. “I don’t even know what to think.”

Something in his tone made Dean open his eyes again and frown. “Are you…having regrets? Worries?” He turned on his side and began stroking his hand across Sam’s torso.

Sam felt the worry drain from him at his brother’s touch. “No…I’m actually…good. Really good.”

“Good ‘cause, no joke…I’m really good too.” He reached up to cup Sam’s cheek and then give a playful tug to his long damp hair.

Sam grinned and prodded Dean in the arm pit causing him to yelp.

“That’s it, you shit,” Dean grinned back and jumped on his brother wrestling him again.

Sam got a few soft smacks in before Dean had his back pressed against his chest holding onto his wrists. “Ok, ok, uncle!” Sam said, chuckling

Dean let go of his wrists and wrapped his arms around him tightly, his face buried in Sam’s hair. “Sammy…” his tone was suddenly serious and Sam was sure he heard a hint of sadness.

“You ok?”

“Sam I-” Dean paused a few beats. “I missed you man…I missed you so much.”

Sam tried to turn to see his brother’s face but Dean held him still. “I know…”

“I’m…” he breathed in deeply, tipping his head down so that his forehead was pressed against Sam’s shoulder. “I really am so sorry. I’m such a fuck up, almost ruining what we are”

Sam sighed closing his eyes. He reached down and squeezed Dean’s thigh reassuringly. “Thank you.”

“You know you kinda…broke me…when you said we can’t be brothers; when you said you won’t save me anymore.”

Sam felt shame rising inside. What was almost stranger than being fucked by his brother was hearing his honest, candid words.

“Dean I- I was lying ok? I was trying to hurt you like you hurt me…I didn’t mean it. You’re my brother, you always will be; we’re all we have.”

Dean screwed up his face and bit the inside of his cheek feeling his emotions swell up; he wasn’t about to cry like a girl after fucking a man. “Th-thanks.” He nuzzled his face in the back of Sam’s neck and felt fatigue creeping in. “Sammy?”

“Yah?” Sam asked, closing his eyes, feeling any bit of tension wash away, replaced by a wave of sleepiness.

“Will you stay, bitch?”

“Yah, Dean, I’ll stay, jerk.” A content smile played on his lips as he felt his brother sigh with relief.

Chapter Text

Three days later, the Winchesters sat in Dr. Warner’s waiting room looking relaxed and content, both man-spreading and chatting. They had agreed that they wouldn’t talk about or look too hard at what had happened between them; something easy and common for Dean but much more difficult for Sam, who had been living in his head since that night.

It was 20 minutes until their second session when the door burst opened.

“Judy for the last time it’s not what it looked like!” Ted pleaded, not bothering to whisper this time.

“TED, I found you balls deep in your business partner; Frank!” Judy screeched “WE’RE GETTING A DIVORCE!”

The boys looked at each other and snickered. After a few minutes, Dr. Warner appeared at the doorway looking slightly harassed.

“Oh, good you two are here. We can begin a bit early.”

The brothers entered the office, Dean gestured toward the seating area. “After you Sammy.”

Sam plopped down on the couch followed by Dean and they both smiled over at Dr. Warner expectantly.

“You two seem…” her head was slightly cocked to the side and her eyes were narrowed, reading the brothers’ body language. Making her face inscrutable again, she asked: “how are you two feeling today?”

“Awesome Doc, never been better,” Dean said, stretching his arm to rest on the back of the couch behind his brother as Sam nodded in agreement.

“That’s wonderful! You definitely seem…more comfortable today.”

They both nodded, shooting each other a glance and grinning.

“Did you two talk about the session when you got home?”

“Yes, we went over what was discussed to make sure we’re doing everything you suggest,” Sam said.

“My little bro, always a keener.” Dean pulled his arm around Sam’s shoulders and gave him a playful shake.

Sam squeezed Dean’s jaw and shook his head. “This guyyy.”

“Um…that’s…that’s great you two!” Her eyes were narrowed again, frowning, for several beats. “How has the past few days been like together?”

“Nothing but smooth sailing.” Deans arm was still around Sam’s shoulders.

“Yup nothing to complain about,” Sam replied succinctly.

She struggled to not say ‘are you sure?’ “Mmmhmmm...what did you two change? You were ready to rip each other’s heads off a few days ago; did you do any homework?”

“We did and I think it helped,” Sam replied. Both men were looking fairly chuff with themselves.

“That’s great news! What did you tr-“

“We slept together like you said," interrupted Dean, giving her a finger gun.

Dr. Warner froze. “You- you slept in the same bed? That’s…well…that’s certainly…intimate,” she stammered, looking back and forth between the two men, again fighting to keep her face and voice neutral.

“Not just that, we had sex Dr. Warner,” Sam said, wanting to be as candid as possible.

“You- you what?” All hope was lost as shock was apparent all over her face. The brothers picked up on this and shifted into rigidity.

“You said…be intimate,” Dean said frowning, his usual gruffness returning to his voice, feeling panic rising in his chest. He swiftly removed his arm from Sam.

Careful to not to make matters worse, Dr. Warner said in a slow and measured manner: “intimacy means closeness not necessarily sex. It certainly was not my intention to give you the impression that you should have sex…as…as brothers.”

She watched as the colour drained from both of their faces.

“What the fuck did you mean then!?” barked Dean.

“I thought perhaps you two could watch an emotional movie and talk about how it made you feel, or ask each other self-reflection questions, or perhaps play a cooperative board game,” she replied calmly.

“A fucking board game?” Sam interjected, looking wide-eyed. His head snapped towards his brother. “This is all your fault, you wanted to get out of here so badly you didn’t let her finish!”

“Oh my fucking God Sammy, you were the one who talked me into this! ‘What if she is suggesting sex Dean, we need to fix this, whatever it takes,’” Dean quoted in a tone dripping with mockery.

“You were the one who intimated ‘whatever it takes,’” Sam snapped back using air quotes.

“Oh, bringing out the big words now, huh Stanford? Condescending bitch.”

“You only think it’s condescending because you don’t know what it means, idiot!”

“Ok, that’s enough you two!” Dr. Warner shouted, throwing her professionalism completely out the window due to the angry one raising his fist, ready to punch the tall one.

Both fell silent, fuming and pushing themselves as far away from each other on the couch as possible.

“I understand that this misunderstanding has brought up a lot of anger and vulnerability, but I have to point out to you how relaxed and happy you both seemed when you first came in. Clearly, something has shifted.”

The brothers were back to side-eyeing each other stiffly.  

“Did you enjoy the experience?” she asked softly, shifting the tone of the conversation, her voice warm and lacking judgement.

Colour furiously returned to them as they both flushed. Dean leaned forward putting his face in his hands as Sam anxiously tucked his hair behind his ears and crossed his arms in a vice grip.

“Sam? Was it nice to…be that close with your brother?” she asked, choosing her words carefully in an attempt to reduce the shame that was swimming all over the room.

Sam thought about it for a moment, feeling his heart pound, noting that Dean shifted slightly to watch him out of the corner of his eye. He thought about Dean’s strong arms, his capable hands, and the unmatched feeling of oneness he felt when he was in his brother’s bed. He nodded slowly staring at a spot on the carpet; he might be the first person in history who will legitimately die of embarrassment.

“What about you Dean?”

Only his scarlet ears were visible on either side of his tightly clamped hands. Dean let his mind wander to what it was like touching and tasting all of Sam’s skin, how his cock had never felt more at home than in his brother’s ass, and, letting himself get mushy, that overwhelming sensation that crept inside his torso when Sam’s body was so close, safe, and protected in his arms. His terse nod was almost imperceptible.

“When you two are ready, I would like for you to turn towards one another look at each other.”

Dean exhaled loudly and rubbed his hands over his face, as Sam shifted his body so that his knees were angled towards his brother, his eyes still fixed on the floor.  

Dean remained still until he felt the warmth of Sam’s hand on his knee. Slowly sitting up, he let his hands slide onto his lap. He cleared his throat gruffly, shifted his body towards Sam, and directed green eyes at his brother’s downcast face. When Sam finally looked up, Dean offered him a weak smile.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. You both consented, you both enjoyed the experience, and it really seems that it did you two some good,” Dr. Warner said, smiling encouragingly.

Once it was apparent that the brothers were calm she continued.

“We are going to process this and fully explore your feelings about what happened; just give me one moment please.” She stood up, stepped over to her desk, and picked up the phone. “Hello Stacey, could you please reschedule my afternoon clients?”

Chapter Text

Doctor Warner hung up the phone and settled back into her chair deciding to abandon her note pad to focus entirely on the brothers; sometimes unorthodox situations called for unorthodox practices.

“Now…” She paused for a moment, deciding where she would like to start. “How did the topic of sex come up?”

“Sam suggested it like I said,” Dean said quickly, feeling stiff and on edge again.

“That’s not true,” Sam snapped back defensively. “We were discussing the homew-”

“We were in the kitchen drinking whiskey, lots of whiskey,” Dean interrupted to paint the scene.

“Dean, try not to interrupt your brother. Go on Sam.”

Sam smirked at Dean slightly. “We were discussing the homework so I started researching it.”

“What did you search?”

“Um…” Sam tried to recall. “Well you’re a couples therapist so I typed in couples intimacy exercises.”

Dean piped in. “Because the brother stuff was for kids.”

“Logical,” she commented.

“I thought so,” Sam shrugged.

“What did you find?”

“Holding hands, eye-contact…massage…” Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Foreplay then actual sex.”

“Makes sense given what you typed in.”

“Yah…” Sam said, now squinting his eyes a bit at doctor Warner wondering where she was going with this. He glanced at Dean who had a little frown gracing his brow but he otherwise seemed relatively compliant.

“So, when you found this information, then what?”

Sam thought back to the kitchen. “I remember Dean was grossed out when I read it.”

“Dean was grossed out.”

Dean nodded and Sam frowned.

“Yah…he looked really disturbed,” Sam continued hesitantly.

“Were you grossed out Sam?” Doctor Warner offered the question carefully and quietly.

“Yes, of course,” Sam said sharply, the colour rising quickly in his face.

Dean looked to his brother, watching him now fold his arms, wondering what was going on in his head.

“I just found your word choice interesting…” she continued.

Sam stayed silent for a moment and thought hard. Was he grossed out? He must have been because Dean is his brother. He was trying to remember…

“I don’t know…” Sam mumbled.

“Dean you found it important to tell me you two were drinking,” she stated, turning her attention to Dean to give Sam space to consider what was coming up for him.

“Yah well…it’s an important detail.”

“What about it is important to bring up?”

Dean shrugged and glared at her slightly. He sensed a trap and did not like it.

The doctor rode out the silence watching Dean stare at her.

“Well, booze makes a difference.”

“In what way?” She continued to watch him placidly.

“Uh…well you know Doc, it lubricates things…gives you ideas.” Dean leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together. Her persistence was making him feel uncomfortable which was not acceptable.

“Gives you ideas,” she repeated.

“Well yah…I don’t think we’d have made such a stupid mistake if we were sober.” His usual gruffness had made it’s return.

“Stupid mistake?” Sam rounded on Dean; a stricken look on his face.

“I mean, yah Sammy, I think we can both admit that it was a completely dumb misunderstanding.” He frowned searching Sam’s face.

“You said mistake not misunderstanding,” Sam said, glancing to doctor Warner for reassurance.

Dean sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Why do you care so much? This is on both of us.”

“Because you said you liked it! And now you’re saying it was a mistake?” Sam felt panic rising in his chest and he wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

“Why are you getting so fucking upset?” Dean growled anger mingled with confusion colouring his complexion.

Sam felt like shutting down. How was he here again with his emotionally illiterate brother, trying to no avail to get him to understand him?

“Dean, I want you to take a deep breath and look at your brother’s body language right now,” Doctor Warner interjected.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment feeling his impatience rapidly rising. He did as he was told, however, and breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. He had to admit it helped a bit; the frustration held off from its steady climb. He opened his eyes and looked over at Sam. His brother’s arms were firmly clamped and he was looking down at his lap, a hurt look playing around his upturned eyebrows and pressed, frowning lips. Dean felt an unpleasant pang in his gut; he caused that hurt.

“Try your question again,” Doctor Warner said after watching Dean’s expression soften slightly.

“Why are you so upset?” Dean repeated stiltedly but not unkindly, traces of guilt edged his tone.

“I don’t know…” Sam lied. He knew, but he wasn’t about to say it to his overly reactive brother.

“C’mon Sammy…I’m trying here,” Dean sighed.       

Doctor Warner allowed silence to fill the space, giving Sam room to continue when he was ready. He let a full minute pass.

“You saying it was a mistake…I know we’re idiots for thinking she meant sex but…” he faltered looking to the doctor.

“Keep going Sam…” Doctor Warner encouraged.

“I just…don’t think it was a mistake,” Sam finished lamely, not allowing himself to go all the way there.

Doctor Warner noted Sam’s withholding and looked to Dean.

“Dean, what’s going through your mind when you hear Sam say that?”

Dean stared at Sam hard. “I misspoke. Look, I did like it ok?”

“But…?” Sam pushed.

“I dunno, Sammy fuck! It’s fucked up isn’t it? We’re brothers!” Dean’s impatience was coming back full force and the growl was threatening the back of his throat.

Sam looked like he had been slapped. “I knew you fucking regretted it; I knew it! You fucking liar!” As he continued his tone became harsher and anger crept into the hurt on his face. “And, what, you just had to bring up the booze so that you had something to blame, right doctor Warner?” He spat in her direction.

“Oh, come on Sam,” Dean snapped sternly.

“You know the idea really came from both of us and you are too scared to fucking admit it.”

“Dean I want you to take your time and gather your thoughts. Is there truth to what Sam is saying?” Doctor Warner directed gently.

Dean frowned, shaking his head. Sam always knew how to twist his words and blow things out of proportion. “No.” the word came out like a bullet.

“Take your time Dean,” Doctor Warner repeated. “You can see that this is important to your brother.” She gestured her open hand toward Sam.

Dean snorted and grinned incredulously. He felt completely backed into a corner. How did they even get here, yelling at each other again? The doctor audibly modeled a deep breath and Dean involuntarily copied her. What happened? Sam was being asked about being grossed out, He had said something about booze making you loose and leading to mistakes. Why did he even say that? He did like what happened with Sam; in fact, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened…which…if he was being honest…

“It’s embarrassing ok? Jesus,” Dean finally blurted out, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Why are you embarrassed?” She pressed.

“What do you mean why?” Dean glared. It was fairly obvious to him.

She sat silently.

“Look, I liked what happened between us, like a lot…but that’s so fucked up! I’m not…I’m not…” He stalled rocking slightly, doing everything he could not to bolt.

The doctor nodded supportively. “Go on Dean.”

“I’m not fucking gay!” He barked, “I’m not supposed to like fucking a guy; I’m not supposed to like fucking my brother.” His anxious, aggressive voice was pinging all over the room.

There we go, doctor Warner thought. “Enjoying what happened does not make you gay, Dean. You two experimented and it paid off. This does not have to define you if you don’t want it to.” She said the last sentence slowly and deliberately.

Dean considered this and looked back to Sam who, he was startled to see, was looking directly at him. “Sammy…I- I’m…” He sighed heavily, the apology resting on the tip of his tongue. “I don’t think it was a mistake, I’m just still wrapping my head around it, ok?”

“You’ve been trying to make sense of this alone and that can be very difficult and confusing. Sam, as much as that may hurt, it is valid for Dean to feel that way.”

Sam nodded curtly. Truth is, he assumed Dean would be ashamed, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to hurt so much when he admitted it.

Doctor Warner considered Sam. “Where is the hurt coming from, Sam?”

“I’m not hurt, I’m just confused,” Sam snipped defensively.

“Where is the confusion coming from?” Doctor Warner used Sam’s preferred term knowing full well he was in pain.

Sam glared at his hands in his lap. “I don’t feel embarrassed about it. So, I guess…that makes me feel stupid.”

“You thought you two were on the same page.”

“Yes,” Sam said quietly.

Dean didn’t know what to say. Sam was silent trying to process his thoughts again.

“Dean you said ‘not supposed to,’ where is that idea coming from?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “We’re really going to do this?”

“This time is for both of you for whatever you are needing or wanting to talk about. Whatever you’re comfortable with today.”

“I’m not comfortable talking about any of it.” Dean said flatly.

“I need you to Dean. I need us to talk it out,” Sam said quietly but firmly.

This took Dean off guard; Sam rarely told him what he needed from him that directly. He felt guilt again, replacing the aggression. He sighed rubbing his hands over his face. After breathing in and out deeply he weighed the question. “Uhh…well up until now I’ve only ever been with chicks.” His voice was more level and calm.

“Mhmm and what does that mean for you? What does being with women as a man mean?”

His eyes narrowed; confusion. “It means I’m…I dunno…”

“You’re…” She coaxed.

“I’m the man? Like manly and…in control?”

She nodded “You feel powerful, masculine.”

“Yah, that’s it.”

“Did you not feel that way with Sam?”

They both flushed again and Dean squirmed. He let his mind wander to his brother’s writhing body underneath him, capturing his mouth, running his hands over his firm frame, and unraveling him with his fingers and cock. The flush traveled down his neck and chest. He cleared his throat loudly. “I guess…I guess I felt the same.”

“So, no less manly, powerful, and in control?”

“Yah…” Dean looked pensive now considering the point the doctor had led him to.

“Sam, what about you?” She directed her attention back to Sam.

“Well obviously it was very different for me because I…I uh…umm.”

It didn’t take a Ph.D. to guess that Sam bottomed. She let him flounder a moment and then provided: “you received.”

“Yup.” Sam pretty much wanted to floor to swallow him up.

“I see that you do have some embarrassment Sam.” She watched the flush on the taller man’s face.

Sam glanced up at her and then to Dean who, to his credit, had a small, kind smile playing on his lips. “I guess…I felt less manly.”

She nodded. “Were you…passive the whole time?” She rejected the word submissive that likely would have freaked Sam out.

In Sam’s mind’s eye, he watched himself shoving his tongue in Dean’s mouth, grabbing for his belt, straddling him, ordering him to sit on the edge of the bed, having his cock defenseless in his mouth…

“No definitely not…and Dean…was good about that actually, remember?” He looked to Dean.

“Yah, Sammy.” He smiled at him more intentionally.

“So, what felt less manly?” She continued

“I guess the fact…um…cause I…received.”

“Why is that not manly?” she pressed on.

Sam shrugged. There really wasn’t an answer he just knew he felt vulnerable. “I felt a bit vulnerable I think.”

Sandra nodded “It must have been intense trying that for the first time.”

Sam mirrored her nodding.

“Being vulnerable is hard for you guys,” she stated, watching them nod in response. “And for you two, vulnerability…means not being tough, in control…manly.”

They looked each other in the eye and simultaneously looked back at her.

“That’s pretty much hitting the nail in the head, eh Sam?”

“Yup…fuck,” Sam sighed.

She smiled feeling fairly pleased that they were following her where she was leading them. The next part though…

“The other thing that you said, Dean…that one is a harder pill to swallow?”

The men shifted in their seats once more. Dean was worried about offending Sam again but the incest was undeniably something very few people would understand. It definitely upped the shame ante.

“Yah…well, fucking your brother is a bit frowned upon, isn’t it Doc?” Dean said with a nervous grin.

“Ok,” she offered so that he would continue his thought.

“You know…we grew up together…we share genes…its…strange.” He chose the last word very carefully looking to Sam for his reaction; his face was inscrutable.

“Did it feel strange?” She asked directly.

Dean looked back to doctor Warner. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, realizing he didn’t have an answer right away. He looked at his feet and considered, letting his mind return to Sam’s skin, the smell of his hair…

“N-no…it felt…” He cleared his throat and saw Sam’s face turn toward him in his periphery.

More allowed silence filled the room as Dean radiated a convoluted clutter of emotion. Doctor Warner watched the flush grace his neck and the visible part of his chest through his button-down shirt again.

Dean squirmed even more, shuffling his feet. “Uh…um…” He struggled.

“It’s difficult for you to tell Sam how you feel about him.”

This statement got Dean’s attention to snap to her. He couldn’t even deny it. “Pretty much,” he said simply.

“Why do you think that is?” She continued.

Sam watched his brother, attention rapt.

“Sammy knows how I feel about him,” Dean responded evasively, shrugging, feeling cornered again.

She shifted her eyes to Sam, took in his sustained neutral expression, and returned her gaze to Dean. “Why is it difficult for you to tell him?” She repeated.

Dean shrugged again, crossing his arms, eyes darting to the door. “It just is, I dunno.”

“Our dad was…not great at articulating how he felt about anything…especially us,” Sam offered, wanting to assist Dean before he ran, sadness lingering around his eyes.

Doctor Warner kept her gaze to Dean, not wanting to acknowledge Sam and encourage his clear need to assuage his brother’s discomfort; she would have to remember to write that pattern down later. “Dean, what are your thoughts?”

Dean was as stiff as ever, his jaw tight, a dark edge to his gaze. “I’m not talking about dad,” he stated firmly.

She felt the energy coming off of Dean as if he slammed a door in their faces. She suddenly saw a scared, hurt, little boy huddled in front of her and knew she had to back off.

“Ok Dean. We won’t go there today,” she said softly.

He nodded stiffly. Fuck this shit.

She gave them some room to breathe before she shifted focus. “Sam, did it feel strange to you?”

Sam finally withdrew his gaze from his older brother. “No. I think it actually felt strange that it…didn’t feel strange,” he answered quietly.

“Do you feel ok to elaborate?”

Sam brushed his hair back. He really wanted Dean to answer the question first, but as usual, he would have to set the pace and make it ok for Dean to express himself. “It was…I dunno, it felt good to have the quality time with my brother. We are so busy all the time, we never just hang out anymore.”

She nodded. “You felt like you were reconnecting.”

“Absolutely.” Sam looked at Dean again. His tension appeared to be slackening; his jaw was more relaxed and the vice grip on his arms was loosened slightly.

“How did Dean make you feel?”

Sam crinkled his nose and smiled awkwardly at the intrusive question. He tried to think about it seriously, pushing down the embarrassment.

“Kind of um…” he cleared his throat, “wanted…liked I guess? I could feel how much he likes me?” Sam finished tentatively.

“How much I like you?” Dean interjected gruffly.

“Yah.”

“Don’t be stupid, Sam.”

Sam snorted derisively. “How is that stupid? Like you said, you can’t ever fucking say how you feel.”

“Why do I have to say it, I’m literally sitting in therapy with you right now, puking up feelings.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, an unimpressed expression on his features.

“I slept with you, man…to try to fix us.”

Sam rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Ok, Dean.”

Dean crossed his arms obstinately, pursing his lips.

“Anyway,” Sam continued after a heavy sigh, “we talked afterward too and it felt…better.”

“Sounds like it was a way for both of you to show the other how you feel.”

They nodded stiffly.

“So, if you both admittedly enjoyed it, and it didn’t feel strange, and it actually felt affectionate,” she left the l-word lingering in the air where Dean left it, “is it really wrong?”

They glanced at each other silently and looked back to the therapist.

Getting straight to the point, potentially unprofessionally, she continued: “Incest is simply a social construct based in fear and shame. Like I said, you are consenting adults; you get to decide whether you subscribe to that societally imposed schema.”

The men both blinked with matching surprised expressions.

“What you two do in private is no one’s business but yours,” she added firmly.

Sam nodded as Dean shrugged again; a half-smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I guess you’re right, Doc.”

“Ok three deep breaths you two, that was a lot.” She watched them comply, Sam’s eyes resting on his hands and Dean’s falling shut.

Sam reflected on the significant weight that lifted from him as Dean agreed to her conclusions.

Dean felt steadier. Fuck it; he felt better. Maybe it was a good thing that they were laying their cards on the table after all.

“We are going to wrap up in a moment, but Dean, I want you to try to tell Sam how you felt about that night since he was able to tell you.”

“I guess I felt-” Dean started, facing the therapist

“Tell Sam, Dean.”

Dean sighed and turned his body towards Sam on the couch. “I felt…it felt…good to be with you…” He struggled, his voice deepening, not making eye contact.

Sam fought the bitch face back and tried to be patient with Dean. He opted for an encouraging nod, watching the internal conflict within his older brother.

“It felt…you know,” he frowned hard, “you were safe…close and safe with me,” he said to the carpet at Sam’s feet. “And talking after…it was good…I needed it.”

Doctor Warner was a human woman after all, so she couldn’t help melting at Dean’s strained, uneasy sweetness.

Sam smiled softly. He couldn’t believe Dean actually was able to articulate something even if it was a seemingly half-formed thought.

“Sam, you look pleased to hear that,” the therapist offered once she sensed Dean had said all he could.

“It’s good to hear,” he said quietly.

“You said we’re wrapping up, doc?” Dean felt absolutely drained.

She stifled a sigh. “Yes, I think that’s a good place to pause for today. You two did tremendous work. Reflect on what was discussed and, if you want to, continue the conversation at home.”

“Thank you doctor Warner,” Sam said earnestly, standing up.

As she watched the door shut behind the men, doctor Warner picked up her note pad and started scribbling furiously, shutting her eyes occasionally to recall as many nuances as she could.

Chapter Text

Sam lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, reflecting on the session, feeling hours away from even attempting sleep. He had made it into sweatpants but was still wearing his least blood stained flannel and t-shirt that he wore to therapy. The ride home had been quiet, fatigued, but calm. They had grabbed some typical, greasy take-out -Sam refrained from bitching about lack of healthy options- and ate in a comfortable silence, after which they retired to their separate rooms. Sam assumed that Dean was all talked out and didn't want to push him. This proved to be extremely difficult and his lips were worried raw from his hours of restraint. Wondering whether he should have another hot shower to relax, he heard a soft rap on the door. Propping himself up on his elbows brought into view his brother filling in the doorframe.

“Hey,” Sam said, voice somewhat rough from disuse. 

“Hiya Sammy,” Dean replied quietly. He came into the room swinging his arms awkwardly. 

“What’s up?” Sam sat up, propping up his pillow to lean against.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and seemed to be looking everywhere but at Sam. Sam watched his brother's profile, taking in his downturned eyes and pursed lips. 

“Something on your mind?” Sam said after a moment since Dean appeared to be shuffling words around in his head.  

“Just came to...you know. That was a lot of stuff today.” Dean was now studying the palms of his hands. Sam raised his eyebrows; Dean was checking up on him, but not just for physical reasons like usual. 

“Ya, it was.” He wanted to say so much more about how relieved he was that Dean started working through the shame of enjoying their time together, how grateful he was that his obstinate brother was trying so hard, but instead he resumed gnawing on his bottom lip. 

“I was just gonna pass out but I thought...maybe you needed to...I dunno,” Dean trailed off. 

“Listen, we really don't need to talk about it anymore tonight, we’re both wiped.” Sam reached out and squeezed Dean’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Oh thank fuck.” Dean huffed a sigh of relief and turned to face Sam, pulling a leg up to fold under him on the bed. He flashed him a winning smile and Sam couldn't help but grin back, taking in the crinkles around his eyes. They sat and smiled somewhat awkwardly at each other for another few beats, both at a loss for what to say next. 

“Anyway, that's why I came over, so I’ll leave you to it,” Dean said hastily, moving to get up. 

Sam grabbed his knee. “Stay. I’ve been thinking, would you...try a for-real intimacy thing? It's supposed to be good for connecting after a session.” 

“Oooo romantic,” Dean teased, but he relaxed back onto the bed, indicating that he was willing. 

“There’s one thing I saw, but it’s a little intense,” Sam offered, feeling a bit nervous. 

“Hey, as long as there’s no more talking about feels, I’m game.”

“Ok, sit in front of me cross-legged,” Sam said, pulling his legs up to assume the position himself. Dean followed Sam’s lead and folded his jean-clad legs, touching his knees to Sam’s.

“Are we going to hold hands now, Samantha?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No, it’s super simple, we just look into each other’s eyes for five minutes.”

“Five , Jesus Christ.” Dean scratched the back of his head, a dubious grimace on his face. 

“Ok, ok, three minutes? You're allowed to blink, it's not like a staring contest.” Sam felt a slight flush blotch his cheeks.

“No no, if it’s five we’ll do five. If we’re going to do this fruity exercise, we might as well do it right,” Dean said, dipping his chin and putting his hands up in front of him, as if admitting some sort of defeat; disarmed. 

“Ok, five it is.” Sam grabbed his phone from the nightstand and set the timer. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be to stare at my sasquatch little brother for an eternity.”

Sam hit him with a perturbed bitch face and started the timer. 

“So, just eyes the who-” Dean started but Sam cut him off by placing a raised finger to his own lips, indicating silence. 

Dean then set his jaw, flicked his eyes to Sam’s, and held his gaze there intently. Sam swallowed dryly; beautiful was too banal a word to describe his older brother's eyes, but it was the best Sam had without waxing poetic. He has made eye contact with Dean about a million times across diner booths, over lore books, but never with this much purpose, never this attentively. Sam’s eyes darted between them taking in the exact shade of comforting green, how they turned to a dark sage around the edges of the iris, the way the bedside lamp illuminated his left one, brightening the colour. He couldn't help a small smile pick up the corners of his lips.

After what felt like an hour, but was only two minutes, Sam watched Dean’s eyes start to roam, taking in his nose, his cheeks, the edge of his jaw, his hair. It was when his gaze combed over and fixated on Sam’s lips that Dean licked his own. Sam smirked and shook his head, pointing his index and middle fingers towards his eyes. Dean’s gaze reluctantly dragged back up to resume eye contact, but there was a challenge in his expression now, eyebrow cocked, blinks becoming slower. Sam’s breath hitched and he felt his chest flush. Fuck he looked sexy. 

Another minute passed and Dean shifted forward a bit. Eye’s unwavering and daring, his hands started sliding slowly from Sam’s knees towards his hips. Sam huffed a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Dean’s eyes were tracing Sam’s lips again and Sam dipped his head to catch eye contact. What he caught was the heat that was now in Dean’s eyes as he squeezed his upper thighs. Sam blinked rapidly and felt his breathing become unsteady. Dean moved forward not breaking his gaze and laid his crossed knees against Sam’s to get closer. Sam leaned forward almost reflexively, wanting to get even further into Dean’s space. Sam put his hands on Dean’s hips and gripped onto his jeans, hard. Dean let out a soft exhale with a hint of a growl that made Sam’s pulse pick up. 

Keeping his eyes on Sam’s, Dean started peeling off his flannel overshirt and then tugged at Sam’s, pulling it down off his shoulders. Sam ripped it off his arms and hastily put his hands back on Dean’s hips tugging at them. Dean made almost a whining sound as he unfolded his legs and shoved himself forward to sit in Sam’s cross-legged lap. Sam felt practically dizzy feeling Dean’s groin press against his, the stiffness of the fabric digging into his sweats, Dean’s legs now wrapping around him, their faces inches apart; he was completely shocked that Dean made such a move. 

The timer went off. 

Dean immediately shoved his lips against Sam’s roughly, wasting no time in deepening the kiss and finding Sam’s tongue. Sam moaned and slipped his tongue against his brother’s while he smacked blindly at his phone to stop the incessant beeping of the timer. He grabbed at Dean’s shirt and, parting for a moment, clumsily yanked it over his head then quickly dispensed of his own. Dean dragged his fingers up Sam’s back finding his lips again with his own. Sam shivered to the gentle touch he had been craving, relishing his brother’s hands on him, his warm broad chest pressed up against his.

It was heated, grabbing, needful, different than the first time, and there was no booze to numb the edges of his sensations. Sam’s whole body felt electric. He wasn't nervous this time, all he knew was that he wanted more; all of Dean. He shoved him onto his back roughly, Dean’s head bouncing off the foot of the bed. Sam’s hands were at Dean’s belt, hastily undoing the buckle, popping the button of his jeans and ripping down the zipper. Dean was allowing Sam to do it, watching him with an impish gleam in his eyes, grin spread wide. He lifted his hips off the bed as Sam yanked his jeans off. 

“Boxer briefs,” Sam smirked, looking down at his brother's half hard cock. 

“You’re right they’re way better,” Dean panted, reaching up to pull Sam on top of him, shoving his tongue back into his mouth and pressing his cock up into Sam’s. Dean's rough hands slipped under Sam’s sweatpants, cupping and squeezing his bare ass. Sam moaned into the kiss, feeling himself begin to get firm against his brother's dick.

“God, Sammy I want you.” Dean rasped, rubbing his lips against Sam’s throat, teasing him with soft nips. Sam’s breathing hitched and he groaned low; those words alone got him fully hard, precome starting to leak from his cock. 

“Fuck Dean…” Sam started sliding down Dean’s body, kissing and licking as much of his brother’s skin as he could, kicking his pillow out of the way onto the floor. He nuzzled Dean’s cock through his underwear causing him to make the most beautiful whining noise. When Sam pulled it free, he didn't even have a moment's thought before shoving it into his mouth. He wanted it; he had been thinking about Dean squirming under his control since the night they fucked. And that was just what Dean was doing now as he sucked hard and bobbed his head up and down, stopping only to pull Dean’s underwear down and off his ankles.

“Holy fuck Sam, yes,” Dean blurted out while slipping his hands into Sam’s hair and tugging gently. “Your fucking mouth is so good. You're so good.” 

Sam moaned around Dean’s cock savouring the praise. It spurred him on to pick up the pace even more, increasing suction and rubbing his hands over Dean’s thighs and stomach as a litany of half formed swear words flew out of his mouth. Sam could tell by his brother’s rigidity that he was already getting close to coming. 

“I want you to feel like this baby,” Dean groaned blissfully. Sam choked a bit on Dean’s cock. He pulled off with a pop and looked up at him.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“No, let me try it.” Dean lazily stroked a thumb over Sam's pink, spit-slicked lips, eyelids heavy, breathing hard like he just ran a marathon. 

“How do you want me?” Sam asked, barely containing his excitement.

“Lay back.” Dean growled, sitting up, eyes shut tight, most likely getting his lust under control. 

Sam did not have to be told twice. He whipped off his sweatpants and flung himself back, nearly smacking his head on the headboard. When Dean composed himself, he opened his eyes and visibly gulped; but, like a trooper, he positioned himself between Sam’s thighs, the sight of which made Sam’s cock throb. 

“Fuck Sammy...” Dean said wrapping his fingers around Sam’s cock and appraising how much length protruded past his fingers. Sam bit his bottom lip trying not to grin like a fool. Dean gave a couple experimental kitten licks to the head and Sam pointedly did not watch to avoid any grimacing Dean may be doing. He must not have minded that badly because his tongue now licked tentatively up his shaft. It was almost ticklish, teasing, but amazing all the same. When Dean finally put half of Sam’s length in his mouth, Sam had to stuff his fist against his mouth to not cry out.

Where Dean lacked in technique he made up for in enthusiasm. He sloppily bobbed his head up and down, spit going everywhere, tongue licking erratically, occasionally grazing Sam with his teeth. He was trying his best and Sam loved him for it. Sam propped up on his elbows to watch. It was surreal and breathtaking seeing Dean stretched out between his thighs, working his cock, plush lips sliding up and down. He unconsciously lifted his hips to plunge his cock deeper into Dean’s mouth causing him to gag a little. 

“Sorry man,” Sam breathed sheepishly, looking down at him, noticing how gorgeous he looked with tears clumping his lashes together. 

Dean waved a hand and determinedly kept at it, allowing Sam’s cock deeper against his throat. Suddenly, he began sucking hard and tightening his lips around his shaft. Fuck yes he’s getting the hang of it Sam thought, head thrown back. 

“Uhhnn Dean that’s really good,” he moaned, fisting his comforter. He felt a finger slip beside his cock in Dean’s mouth as he sucked. Without warning, he felt the finger rub against his hole, massaging a moment before slipping inside him. Sam arched, losing all vocal control, and he could feel the fucker grin around his cock. Dean pumped the finger in and out of him as he continued to suck his cock and Sam worried fleetingly that he would come right then and there. 

“Lube?” Dean asked wiping spit off his lips and chin with the back of his hand. 

Sam reached over to his bedside table with the same energy with which he turned off the timer, fished out his bottle, and tossed it to Dean. Sam whined with the loss as Dean lubed up his fingers, but quickly moaned with the sensation of two fingers inside of him curling and scissoring. Dean continued to suck his cock slowly and teasingly, definitely more confidently than when he started. 

“More Dean, please.” Sam was feeling the pleasure mount, his body tensing up, but didn’t want his brother to stop. Dean added a third finger and sucked his head hard and it was all too much. He shoved Dean off of his dick and came on his stomach with a loud groan. “ Fuck man sorry.” Sam panted, breathing through the aftershocks that were amplified by Dean’s fingers still fucking into him.

Dean just looked up at him and grinned his charming grin. “That was really fucking hot, Sammy.” 

Sam melted back into the mattress, feeling reassured and not ready to stop fucking around. “Fuck me Dean, I’m ready.”

In a blur, Dean pulled his fingers out, shoved Sam’s legs up, coated his cock in lube, and pressed against his hole. 

“Do it Dean, I want you so badly.” Sam bit back the please please please bubbling up in the back of his throat as he was quickly filled with his brother’s cock. This time the pain was less and he revelled in the intense stretch he felt in his ass. Dean was being so sweet and cautious, thrusting into him slow and shallow but Sam had been thinking about fucking again for too long for gentle love making. 

“Fuck me.” Sam said with an edge to his voice. Dean moaned and fucked his full length into him, thrusting in and out. Dean stayed on his knees to angle into him, deliciously hitting his prostate, Sam arching and moaning, feeling his dick twitch back to life. 

“Your tight little ass feels so good baby brother.” Dean rasped reaching down to cup Sam’s balls, Sam feeling an intense surge of pleasure in his stomach.

“Oh God Dean,” Sam whined, looking up at his handsome face, eyebrows pressed together with the pleasure that was mounting again. “Get on your back.”

“What?” Deans hips stuttered.

“You heard me. I want to ride you.” Sam stared up at him with dark lust-blown eyes. 

Dean’s eyebrows almost disappeared in this hairline as he quickly got the picture, pulled out obscenely fast and flopped onto his back, cock smacking against his stomach. Sam straddled him and grabbed him, directing his cock to his lubed, stretched ass and sunk easily down on it. Dean’s jaw almost hit his chest. Sam wasted no time in lifting himself up and down, fucking himself on his brother’s cock, increasing his pace with Dean’s moaning. 

“You look amazing up there on my cock,” Dean ran his hands over Sam's chest, heavy eyes roaming everywhere.

He leaned down to kiss Dean roughly, hair falling into his face, his cock achingly hard again. Dean wrapped his arms around him and kissed him back deeply. “Sammy…” he said breathlessly against his lips, Sam felt him tensing underneath him.

“Come in me.”  

Dean grabbed onto Sam’s hips hard and fucked up into him, setting a relentless pace until he finally let go, spilling come deep into Sam’s ass. He kept thrusting and licking into Sam’s mouth until Sam came again between them, needing nothing but his brother’s thick cock, tongue, and warm closeness to get off. 

“Oh my god, I can't believe you came for me again.” Dean whispered throatily, lips pressed against Sam’s ear. 

“I love yo- your cock.” Sam bit his lip almost slipping in his post orgasm haze. 

“Mmmm good, I love fucking you” 

Dean shifted to pull his cock free but held Sam tightly against him. Sam stretched out his long legs to fully lay on Dean, closing his eyes to the feeling of his big brother’s heart drumming against his chest. No more words were exchanged as Dean lazily dragged his fingers up and down Sam’s back, Sam kissing and nuzzling Dean’s neck softly, their breathing returning to normal.

Sam’s mind was calm, finally not racing and overthinking. Dean’s snores let him know that, for now, he too was at peace with whatever their new intimacy meant. If not, they could certainly bring it up in therapy.