Title: He's Your Brother
Author: Phoenyx Feather
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest
Categories: First Time, Unresolved Sexual Tension (UST), Drama/Angst, Romance
Note: This is my first Supernatural fic. It is also my first ever complete sex scene, so give it a shot because I tried (it's really not all that bad). Also, before you get grossed out, finish the story because… I promise… it's not what you think. I am also aware that their mother died before the age in the bathtub scene, but it's for the effect of the story. Also, I'm aware that Dean is still injured at the cough cough end, but still, it's for the story.
Disclaimer: The boys of Supernatural, sadly, do not belong to me, but to Erik Kripke and the WB.
Summary: "I'm a sick freak" is all that Sam can think. What was wrong with him? A big secret about everything Sam believes in is revealed, leading to something the two boys have only fantasized about.


His lips pursed in pain as he picked himself up from the floor, the blood trickling down his cheek. He wiped angrily at the droplet and swore to the heavens. He hiked his tight pants up and pulled his shirt down over his rocky abdomen. He cringed at the stinging of a long cut down his defined triceps. Worse than the stinging of the cut, however, was the stinging behind his eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip to fight back the tears.

There, on the debris-littered floor, was his brother. He brushed the cinnamon hair out of his eyes and knelt down beside his brother. He pursed his lips again and touched a bloody hand to his brother's cold face.

"Dean," he called out. "Dean." There was no answer from the motionless body on the floor. "Damn!"

He stood up and buried his face in his hands. His mind raced with no answers. He had no idea what to do. After a moment, he bent down and scooped up Dean in his arms. He hoisted him around his shoulders, every muscle rippling in strain. He grunted slightly at the stinging he felt throughout his body, but ignored it and limped across the floor.

He kicked open the door and descended the steps out into the street. He struggled to the shiny black car, reached one hand down and wrenched open the door to the back seat of the car. He carefully laid Dean down in the back seat and closed the door.

He opened the driver's side door and sat down in the seat. He reached around for the keys and could not find them. He realized that the keys must have still been in Dean's pocket. He got out of the driver's side and opened the backseat door again.

He searched Dean's jacket pockets and found nothing. He then proceeded to search Dean's jean pockets. He reached his hand into the right pocket and felt nothing. He reached into the left pocket and clenched his fingers around the set of keys. He felt his fingers brush on Dean's private and felt the front of his pants tighten.

His heart skipped a couple of beats and he slapped himself mentally. It's your fucking brother, and he could be dead, nonetheless. And you're not even gay! It's your fucking brother. He extracted the keys from the pocket and applied extreme pressure to the bulge in his pants. He shook his head and climbed back into the front seat of the car.

He peeled off around the corner, headed for the hotel room that he and Dean shared. He couldn't risk taking Dean to the hospital, not after what had happened. He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and squealed to a halt. He checked the area for any people, and when he was sure the coast was clear, he hoisted Dean out of the back seat.

He carried him up the stairs and kicked open the door of their hotel room. He laid Dean down in the single bed and went back to the car to get their laptop. He set it up on the table in the corner of the room.

He headed over to the bed and bent down to look at his brother's face. He touched two fingers to the side of Dean's neck and bent his head down just above Dean's nose and mouth. His heart raced as he felt breath on his skin and a light pulse beneath his fingers. His mouth erupted in a smile and laughed aloud.

Alive with relief, he unbuttoned Dean's jacket and pulled it from his shoulders. Beneath the jacket was a bloodied white, semi-transparent, super-tight, t-shirt. As his fingers brushed the raised muscles of Dean's abdomen, his face tightened and his heart began beating faster.

He shook himself mentally and fumbled with the button of Dean's pants. He unzipped them and tugged. As they came down, the boxer briefs Dean was wearing came with them. They stopped just before his privates were unveiled. The smile left his face as he swallowed hard and pursed his lips. He was breathing heavily now and his heart was beating quickly.

He held the boxer briefs up with one hand and tugged the jeans down with the other hand, whilst the throbbing in his pants became as heavy as his breathing. He stepped away from his brother and once again applied pressure to the bulge in his pants. But this time, it didn't work.

As his eyes took in his brother's form, the throbbing increased and his eyes began to glaze over and he felt his hand doing it's own thinking. He gasped and called out at himself for acting this way.

He took his hands away from Dean and away from his pants. He crossed his arms tightly and squeezed his eyes shut. When he thought he was calm enough, he crossed back over to the bed and pulled the blanket over Dean.

He knew he was going to have to calm down because he was going to have to check Dean for injuries. He decided that a shower might be the best way to calm down.

He traveled to the small bathroom adjacent to the bed. He left the door open so that he could watch for any signs of movement from his brother.

He pulled the brown-green t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Goosebumps surfaced and his nipples hardened at the chill in the air. He undid the belt buckle and pulled the belt off. He then unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. He dropped his pants to his ankles and climbed out of them.

Keeping his eyes on his brother the whole time, he pulled off his socks and then his underwear. He cringed as he spotted a small wet spot on the front of his boxers. Shaking his head, he pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and bent to turn the water on.

He felt a little nervous at the thought of being so exposed to his brother, his bare buttocks shining in the air. He turned the hot faucet all the way up and the cold up just a little. He turned the shower faucet on and climbed in, shutting the curtain behind him.

He gasped as the hot water pounded into him and was surprised at the amount of pressure exerted by a hotel showerhead. He sighed deeply as he felt his stress evaporate with the water. All thoughts of Dean left him until he thought he heard a small moan coming from the other room. He pulled the shower curtain back with a quickness only to find that his brother was still fast asleep.

He tugged the shower curtain back closed and felt a pang of guilt at what had happened earlier. But when he thought about it, he couldn't stop his mind from doing terrible things to him again. His mind trailed back to Dean and he thought of his full, luscious lips and his naturally rock-hard, chiseled body.

He felt a sharp intake of breath as his mind remembered their younger years. His mind took him back to one night in particular. On this night, their mother had put them in the bathtub and told them to wash up quickly for bed. Dean was about nine and Sam was about six, and both were still very clueless.

"Dean, how do you think we got here?"

"I dunno, Sam. Mom and Dad, I guess."

"I know, but I mean, how?"

"Well, everyone at school calls it the birds and the bees."

"Whaddaya think that is?"

"I dunno, maybe we should ask Mom."

Sam looked down into the water and saw his one-eyed snake staring back at him.

"I don't think so. Look down in the water."

"What about it?"

"Whaddaya think it's for, 'sides peeing?"

"Well, I dunno, Sam. Touch it,"

"No, you touch it!"

"I don't want to!"

"Alright," Sam said, having always been the negotiable one. "I'll touch it if you'll

touch it."

So, they reached out and they touched it. They both flinched and put their hands back in their own laps.

"Maybe we'll find out someday. But I think they're for stickin' it to girls with. I saw a guy stick it to a girl in a movie. I think that's probably what the birds and the bees is."

"Why girls? Can't you stick it to guys too?"

"Well, I guess, but Mama says we're not supposed to like guys."

"But I don't think it really matters."

"Me neither."

"Oh well," Sam said, and put soap on his loufa.

He moaned and wished that were happening now, now that they were older, that his brother would reach out and touch his one-eyed snake. And then, he slapped himself for thinking that way again. But, oh god, his brother's mouth was so beautiful. The thought of that smile sent shivers up Sam's spine. Furthermore, the thought of that perfect mouth pressed to his sent shivers up his cock.

And that body, that perfectly shaped body. And the soft, perfect hair. And the shining eyes, the shining grey eyes. And the well-worn, yet soft, and inevitably perfect hands. Sam found his hands thinking for themselves all over again, but this time he didn't stop them.

He went on and on, pumping restlessly, thinking of Dean, imagining that it was Dean touching him this way, and he thought that his hardness would never subside. He peeked out of the shower curtain and saw that the covers had left Dean in his stirring, exposing that perfect body. Sam even imagined that he could see a bulge as prominent as his was poking from Dean's boxer briefs.

Sam felt his arm get tired, but he didn't care, nor did he stop. He was panting and grunting and bucking into his hand, and he could no longer see. He felt a tug behind his navel and in his sac and he exploded, howling, all over the tile in the bathtub.

He fell forward, catching himself with both hands on the cum-spattered wall. Panting, he looked in his brother's direction, relieved to find that his noise and his yell had not stirred Dean. And, once again, he slapped himself for his feelings.

Sam decided that that would have to be the last time he let his thoughts get the best of him. He dried off, trying to avoid his groin as much as possible for fear of triggering that shit again.

"I'm a freak," Sam said to himself, dressing in only a t-shirt and boxer shorts. "A sick freak."

He took deep breaths and had a glass of water because he was about to have to check Dean's body for injuries.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he stood over Dean, who was still uncovered. He willed his mind not to wander and willed his hands the same.

"Dean," Sam called, checking to make sure that he was still unconscious. "Dean." When there was no answer, he brought his hands up to Dean's face.

He ran his hands down Dean's face, and then up and down Dean's head. He didn't feel anything signifying a concussion, but he couldn't be too sure. His hands traveled from Dean's head to his neck and

Moaning in passion as Sam bit sensually at Dean's neck, and Dean answered by arching his back, causing their erections to touch. Sucking, biting, licking, and kissing at that

beautiful and perfect neck.

"Damn it!" Sam yelled. He stepped away from Dean for a minute and willed the excitement in his groin to dissipate. He could not keep doing this if he was going to make sure that his brother was okay.

He approached Dean and clenched his fists, breathing deeply. He reached his hands out and placed them at the nape of Dean's neck. He pressed gently, and moved from the neck to the collar bone, and then to the breast bone. He pressed gently in that area all around, trying his hardest to avoid Dean's nipples, but accidentally brushed the right one. The hard flesh on Sam's soft fingertips made Sam's mind race with

Dean's nipples hardened as Sam licked a bit them, both of them moaning in pain and pleasure. The tender flesh broke out in Goosebumps at the chill in the air, then the soft touch, and then the delicate nibbling.

This time, Sam didn't step back, and he didn't move his hand from the nipple. He breathed heavily, and closed his eyes, letting that image play out in his head. He snapped back to reality and yanked his hand back from Dean's nipple.

Deciding it was time to move on, he checked gently for broken ribs and felt none. He splayed his hands out on Dean's stomach, his thumbs facing inwards and pressed down the middle of Dean's stomach with his thumbs. The thumbs brushed over Dean's navel, but Sam willed himself not to think anything of it.

His thumbs traveled from the navel across the hard skin downwards, down the light trail of hair that resided there, to just above Dean's groin. He had to skip all of that area until just above where Dean's legs began to prevent his mind from wandering.

He clasped Dean's left leg in his hands and pressed his thumbs into the rippled, slightly hairy flesh. And, once again, he couldn't help but

Dean's legs wrapped around Sam's back in a fit of passion, and Sam clasped his hands around the tops to acknowledge him, all the while shameless thrusting and grunting and moaning and thrashing.

Despite these thoughts, he finished the left leg and foot, as well as the right leg and foot, imagining, despite himself, those long and perfect toes curling from a pumping orgasm.

Sam knew that now, he had to turn Dean over so that he could check his back. To do this, he had to get on the bed with Dean and straddle him. He put his hand's under Dean's back and gently flipped him. He turned Dean's head to the side so that he could breathe. Sam took Dean's arms in his hands and straightened them out above Dean's head imagining

Sam held Dean's arms above his head, pinning him to the sheets, as he locked his lusty mouth to Dean's.

Not feeling that it was necessary for him to move, Sam remained in his straddling position and pressed his fingers into Dean's rippling, muscular, perfect back. Sam scooted down just a little so that he was positioned over Dean's legs, but accidentally brushed his boxer shorts covered privates over the perfect, tight lumps that were Dean's ass and

Dean's ass opened up underneath Sam, permitting him to take full advantage. And it opened and clenched, opened and clenched, nearly bringing Sam to a premature orgasm. But he calmed himself and moved in time with the opening and clenching so that they both got the best of it. When Dean opened up, Sam thrust in, and when Dean clenched Sam pulled out, each time sending a riveting sensation through both of them.

That nearly sent cum straight into Sam's underpants. He gasped in pleasure at his imaginary excursions and, without thinking, bucked down into Dean's unconscious body, sending Sam's erection directly between Dean's legs. And he thrust there, not meaning to, until he felt that tug behind his navel and he threw himself off Dean, shooting to the bathroom, slamming the door, and shooting three or four long times into the bathtub… again.

"Goddamit, what the hell is wrong with me?" He shouted at himself. He cleaned up and went back into the room. He flipped Dean back over, happy to find that Dean had no visible injuries, save a few cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

Finding the worst wounds, Sam dressed them, and then dressed his own. He sat down in a chair and leaned his head back against the wall. That's two times I've cum today, and because of my brother. That has never happened with a girl before, and I've never had sex with a guy. What the fuck kind of sick freak am I?

He sat there for a long time, thinking about how utterly fucked up he was. He got bored and logged onto the internet, researching gay sex. He didn't know why, but he suddenly had a keen interest in the subject. Then, he stood up and pulled his jeans on. He decided it was time to go get some food.

He hopped into his brother's black car and drove off to the nearest fast food restaurant. He pulled into the drive through of McDonald's and ordered a grilled chicken Caesar salad for him and a double cheeseburger for Dean, in case he woke up.

He unlocked the hotel door and walked in to find the perfect form of Dean sprawled across the queen-size bed and realized that he had forgotten to cover Dean back up. He set the food down on the coffee table beside the laptop and approached the bed.

He stood there looking at Dean for a moment, taking in everything from the closed, soft eyes and the full, beautiful mouth, the peaceful rising and falling of the well-formed chest, the beautiful alabaster skin, the slightly darker, tender nipples, the sexual, perfect navel, the contours of the well-defined muscles in his abdomen, the obviously large, despite the clothing, genitalia that sent shivers up Sam's spine, to the long, muscled legs and hem hem large, perfect feet.

He shook himself out of reverie and covered the perfect, peaceful form with a soft blanket. He ate his dinner alone, wishing that Dean was eating with him, laughing at his stupid jokes. Even the way he eats gets me hard, Sam thought. Shit! Shut the fuck up you disgusting freak! But that smooth silky voice, sometimes gruff, sometimes sweet, always stimulating.

Sam undid the button on his jeans, unzipped them, and pulled them off. Scooting the unconscious Dean to his own side, and wishing that there had been a vacant room with two beds, Sam crawled into the crisp bed. He scooted all the way to the edge of the bed, trying very hard not to even touch feet with Dean.

It took quite a while, but he fell asleep. He didn't dream for some time, but then

His beautiful girlfriend, Jess was looking at him with lust in her eyes. She undid his pants and wrapped her hand around his cock. He undressed her, kissing her face, her neck, her breasts. And they fucked, hard and passionate. He thrust, thrust, and then she was no longer Jess, she was Dean writhing underneath him. He screamed and looked around the room and saw Jess and his father watching in disbelief and disgust. He tried to explain, but couldn't talk over Dean's moaning, and he was still thrusting, thrusting. And Jess and their father just stood there, while the two brothers fucked and fucked and fucked. But then the room went dark and Dean was no longer underneath him. A light appeared around a naked Sam and then his father appeared. He slapped Sam across the face three times, each time blood erupted from Sam's mouth. Then, Jessica appeared beside his father and she slapped him too. Before Sam knew what was happening, his father jumped on Jess and started fucking her. Sam counted five orgasms from Jess, something that had never happened with him, before his father drew a knife from somewhere in the darkness and stabbed Jess over and over, even though he was still fucking her, over and over. Sam couldn't scream he could only watch. And then Jess appeared on the ceiling, blue flames licking her bloody, naked body, and his father watched laughing. Dean then appeared next to Jess, purple flames licking his naked body. And then they were gone; it was only Sam and his father. His father slapped Sam again, but with the knife, and then stabbed himself. Sam fell to the ground weeping and weeping, but to his disgust, he still had a throbbing erection.

Sam woke sweaty and hard. And in his back, he felt something else hard. He slowly turned his head without moving the rest of his body and saw Dean, who was also sweaty. He rolled over gently to see what was pressed into his back and saw that it was Dean, pulsating and hard through his maroon boxer briefs. Sam's eyes widened in surprise at the strangeness of the situation and at the size. Damn, something must really have him excited!

And then, "Sam," came his brother's gruff voice, and Dean's hips moved forward, causing his unsheathed erection to rub on Sam's leg. Sam let out a gasp and hopped out of bed, tripping when his foot caught in the blanket. The blanket came tearing off the bed, fully revealing Dean.

Sam thought the erection stood about a mile high and he couldn't take his eyes off it, especially when Dean began thrusting in the air.

"Sam," Dean called. "Sam. Sam! SAM. SAM! SAM!" And with that, Dean spurted six or seven long times straight into the air and onto his stomach and was still again. Sam sat where he landed on the floor and just stared. He did not know what to think. It was probably just a mistake. Sam was probably the name of some cheap slut that Dean knew. It couldn't be this Sam, his brother. At least that's what Sam told himself.

Feeling a little relieved, he picked himself up off the floor and approached the bed. He figured that this might mean that Dean was conscious and just sleeping.

"Dean," Sam called out. "Dean!" But there was still no answer. Dean was either in a deep sleep or still unconscious. Sam sighed and decided that he had better clean his unconscious brother's sick mess up.

Sam went into the bathroom and retrieved a washcloth. He put soap on it and ran in under the water. He went out into the main room and went over to Dean.

He wiped Dean's face off and then his neck. He wiped his chest clean and then his stomach. Every muscle on Dean's body was glistening from the water, causing Sam to realize how sensual of an act he was performing.

He tried to ignore and reluctantly tugged down Dean's underpants and wiped his glistening, sticky genitalia. I just want to taste him, just a little bit. He convinced himself that it was okay, dipped his head, and touched his tongue to the very tip of the head of Dean's prick.

Dean twitched a little in his unconsciousness. The taste that now consumed Sam's mouth caused his whole body to shudder with want and he became immediately hard, so hard that it hurt, so hard that it was aching. But he had to ignore it, and he cursed himself for what he had just done. He finished wiping Dean up and put some new underwear on him.

Sam was exhausted after his nightmare and cleaning Dean's sticky, delicious seed up. He washed his hands and sat down in front of the laptop. He connected to the internet and sat still thinking of what to do.

A brilliant idea came to him and he knew that it would take his mind off of everything. In the address bar, he typed in the web address to Google. When it came up, he typed in "Winchester Family Tree" in the search bar. Only a few results came up, so he clicked on the more obvious one.

When the tree loaded, he was surprised to find that his name was not on the tree. He reread the whole thing at least ten times, but Samuel Winchester was not on the tree. He scrolled down to his "father's" name and saw a line from his name to Dean Winchester and Sarah Winchester, but no Samuel Winchester.

Was he lied to his whole life? Was he not related to Dean like he believed he was? He went back to the home search page and typed in "Samuel Nathaniel Winchester birth certificate." There were yet again only a few results and he clicked on every single one. Not one of the Samuel Nathaniel's was him.

He sat back in the chair, stunned. He wasn't related to Dean. He was relieved and upset at the same time. His whole life, he believed that he had a brother, sister, mother, and father. But now, he didn't have a clue who he was. He wasn't a Winchester. What was he?

He wondered if Dean knew this. Was it truly his name that Dean had called out in his unconscious climax? This seemed like a good thing and a bad thing at the same time. He did not know what to think. And he would not know until Dean woke.

Sam couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. He spent the rest of the night searching and scouring the internet, trying to ensure that what he thought was right. And by the morning, he realized with a sinking feeling that it was.

He stood up from the chair and went over to where Dean was. Sam called Dean's name out a few times and when there was no answer, he pulled some clothes on to get some breakfast.

When he returned to the hotel room, he sat on the edge of the bed to eat his egg McMuffin. He sat looking at Dean, his rising and falling chest. And then, it wasn't rising and falling anymore. It stopped moving.

Sam tossed his food to the floor and pounced on Dean, cupping Dean's mouth with his own preparing for CPR. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor having been thrown off by Dean.

And Dean peered over the side of the bed looking strangely at Sam.

"Ugh, dude, are you trying to kiss me?"

Sam sat stunned for a moment, but then flew from the floor and looked at Dean in amazement.

"You weren't breathing," Sam said in astonishment.

"No shit, I wasn't breathing. I was holding my breath because of the horrible smell in the room. When was the last time you took a shower, man?"

"It's not me. It's the sewage in this rotten hotel." Sam said laughing in relief.

"We gotta get out of here," Dean said comically. Sam nodded and sighed in relief and happiness.

"We also gotta talk." Sam said forebodingly. Dean gave him a puzzled look and Sam shook his head as if to say 'later.' Dean nodded and got out of bed.

"Agh," Dean called out, cringing. "Damn, I'm sore. What the hell happened?"

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head. He had a shit load to tell Dean, including the fact that they weren't actually brothers. He didn't know when he was going to tell him that.

"Do you want some breakfast? I just ate," Sam said, looking at his food spilt across the floor.

"Yeah, I haven't eaten shit in like four days." Dean replied, standing up finally.

"Let me find you some clothes." Sam offered.

"Bullshit, I've got it." Dean said, waving him off. He limped across the room to the suitcase and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Dean fumbled with the zip and hadn't even put his shirt on yet. He finally gave up and looked ashamedly up at Sam. He said quietly, "Will you help?"

Sam crossed the room and came to stand in front of Dean. He could not believe he was about to have to zip this man's jeans, with his hands so close to his cock and his mouth so close to his. He swallowed hard and reached for the button. He had to pull Dean a little closer by the pants so that he could get to the zipper. He dipped his fingers into the fly and tugged at the zipper. Sam was hard as a rock and he hoped that Dean would not notice.

Sam accidentally brushed up against Dean's cock and they both flinched, but the jeans were zipped. Dean raised an eyebrow and motioned at the shirt. Sam nodded and grabbed the shirt. He had to help Dean get his arms up by taking them at the bottom and running his own hands up slowly while pushing Dean's arms up. Dean stood there with his arms like that as Sam lifted the shirt above Dean's head and brought his hands into the holes.

Sam reached his arms around Dean and pulled at the back of the shirt. Both of them were breathing abnormally and as Sam tugged down the tight shirt the rest of the way, their torsos bumped together and Sam felt hardness on his hardness. They both turned away with a quickness and proceeded to pretending that they did not feel what they knew they felt.

Dean cleared his throat and grabbed the keys off the coffee table.

"Well?" He said, opening the front door. Sam followed Dean out to the car. They both got in and Dean started the car.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"I dunno, anywhere I can get some breakfast."

"You know, I can't believe I ever wanted to be a lawyer. Some pussy-ass big shot who sits in his office all day kissing his clients' asses and fucking his secretary. What did I ever see in that? I mean, instead, I get to run around and almost get killed everyday. Like you," Sam said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I mean that you almost got killed yesterday, along with me."

"How did I almost get killed? What happened?" Dean asked, puzzled.

"Well, we were on that hunt. The one for Bloody Mary. She almost got you, man." Sam said.

Dean pulled into the drive through of the same McDonald's Sam had visited earlier. He ordered a couple of egg McMuffins and peeled off.

Later, the two were sitting at the coffee table talking and laughing. Sam finally got to watch Dean eat, and he couldn't help but get hard because he knew it wasn't wrong. It was like, for the past two days, Sam had a permanent erection. Not that he minded, it felt damn good.

He sat there and watched Dean's mouth open and close and imagined that it was opening and closing over his mouth, or even his cock. Dean's beautiful grey eyes flashed in the meager light of the dingy hotel room.

Dean put the rest of the egg McMuffin down on the wrapper and stood up, carefully.

"I need a shower," he said. Sam just nodded. "But, er, hem hem, I need help." Dean looked so ashamed and shy and helpless that Sam's cock gave a twitch just because.

"Sure," Sam said, standing up. Then crossed over to the bathroom and Dean opened the door. They both entered, and Sam hoped that he had cleaned all the remnants of his climaxes up well. Dean didn't seem to notice anything, so Sam felt relieved. Sam couldn't help but wonder if Dean was aware at all that he had ejaculated in his "sleep" while calling out the name 'Sam.' But he figured it didn't matter.

Dean cleared his throat yet again, and Sam pursed his lips as he lifted Dean's arms again, this time taking his shirt off. The tight shirt barely fit over the bulging muscles that were Dean's upper body.

When the shirt was off, Dean let his arms drop carefully to his sides as Sam's hands headed for the button of Dean's jeans. Sam fumbled for a minute, but then the button of the jeans came easily undone. Sam gingerly unzipped them and backed away.

Dean cleared his throat again as if to say 'I can't get them off alone.' Sam knew what it meant, so he tightened his lips and approached Dean again.

Sam bent over and took Dean's jeans in his hands. He tugged gently, hoping that Dean's underwear would not join the pants. Sam got the jeans all the way off and helped Dean get his feet out.

Just when Sam thought he was done and just when he thought he couldn't get any harder, Dean made no move to take his underwear off, just cleared his throat again.

Sam swallowed hard and placed his hands at the top of Dean's boxers. He pulled gently, closing his eyes, and felt the boxer shorts fall to Dean's ankles. He opened his eyes and was face to face with something that nearly shot cum straight into Sam's fresh underwear. But he had to ignore it, so he just helped Dean get his feet out.

Without being asked, Sam turned to the shower and turned on the water for Dean. Dean nodded in gratitude and pulled back the shower curtain.

"I'm going to leave the door open. Call if you need help." Sam said, and hurried out. Dean climbed into the shower and immediately clamped his hand around his cock. He didn't know how he had been able to restrain himself.

Sam paced back and forth listening to the shower running. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do and when he was going to tell Dean that they weren't related. Finally, he swallowed hard and headed back for the bathroom.

He stopped directly before the shower curtain and saw Dean's silhouette against the clear but steamy shower curtain.

He took a deep breath and said, "I'm not your brother." Any movement behind the curtain stopped and Sam thought he had made a mistake.

Then, a hand appeared from behind the curtain and pulled it back. Sam was face to face with Dean's head and the whole right side of his body.

"I know." Dean said gruffly. Then, to Sam's astonishment, Dean's right leg left the shower, and then the left. Now Dean was standing naked in the middle of the small, steamy bathroom, looking at Sam with an unreadable expression.

"Hey Dean, you remember that time we were in the bath," Sam began nervously. "And we were trying to figure out what these were for? Well, I think I found out."

"Me too," Dean grunted, stepping closer to Sam, dripping hot water all over the dingy floor. Sam backed up nervously. And felt his back meet a wall. Even though Sam could no longer move, Dean continued to advance. Despite his fear, Sam couldn't help but take in all of Dean's lean, twenty-six-year-old body.

Finally, Dean was only a few inches from Sam, who was breathing irregularly. They stood there like that for a minute, boring into each other's eyes. After a few moments, Dean lashed at Sam, seizing him by the neck and locking his lustrous lips in his own. The kiss was passionate, and hard, and very heavy. Dean pushed his body into Sam who was pressed up against the wall. Sam didn't object at all when he felt Dean's free hand cupping his privates.

The kiss became more passionate and even heavier. Every time Dean's mouth left his for even a second, he found himself searching for those velvety, wet lips. Sam reached his arms around Dean and clawed into his back. Dean pressed into Sam in all the right places, and soon, they felt their erections meeting.

Dean opened up Sam's pants and yanked them down, bucking into Sam's hardness. Sam bucked right back, and even harder, enjoying the friction.

And then, Sam's cell phone rang out, forcing Sam out of his reverie. Sam peered into the bathroom, checking that Dean was all right. He snatched up his cell phone, pissed that it had interrupted his fantastic day dream.

"Hello?" Sam said in quite a monotone. There was a short pause, and then, "Dad? Dean, it's Dad!" Sam heard Dean stumbling from the shower as he was engulfed in a conversation with his father. Dean came crashing into the room, completely naked but ecstatic.

Sam's smile left his face as he hung up the phone. He turned slowly to Dean who was looking at him expectantly.

Sam shook his head and said, "It wasn't Dad. It was someone looking for Dad."

"Shit." Dean swore loudly, turning around. Despite Sam's disappointment, he relished the thought of his hands clasped around that tight, firm ass staring him in the face. Sam closed his lusting eyes.

"Well, as long as we're on the subject of family," Sam began, forcefully clearing his throat. Then, he mumbled, barely audible, "I'm not your brother."

"What'd you say?" Dean asked confusedly.

"I said," Sam started out strongly, then dropped to a mumble, "I'm not your brother."

"I didn't hear you."

"I'm not your brother. We are not brothers. We are not related." Sam said quickly.

Dean cleared his throat and turned a little. He scratched the side of his face and placed another hand on his bare hip. He wiped his hand over his mouth, breathing deeply and said, "I know." He turned to look at Sam. "I've known since were about ten. Erm… Mom said that you came when you were a couple of months old. That was just a little while before she, erm, died."

There was a long moment of silence in which Sam swallowed hard at least ten times.

"Well," Sam said uneasily. He didn't know what to think. Dean had known the whole time. Sam was lost in deep thought when he heard Dean clear his throat.

"I need help getting dressed." Dean said quietly. Sam approached Dean uneasily and then remembered that Dean needed clothes.

"What do you want to wear?" Sam asked.

"It doesn't matter," Dean said nonchalantly.

Sam opened the suitcase and extracted the tightest shirt and tightest pants that he could find, and hoped that Dean wouldn't find it suggestive. He wasn't trying to be suggestive, he was just taking advantage of the fact that Dean was not his brother. This thought brought a mischievous smile to his face. He grabbed a pair of boxers as well.

Sam took the clothes over to where Dean was standing. He set them down on the bed but kept the underwear in his hands.

He knelt down to the floor and motioned for Dean to step into one of the leg holes. Dean obliged, and soon, Sam was pulling the underwear up past his ass. The underwear left his hands with a snap as he reached for the jeans on the bed.

Sam knelt to the floor again and prompted Dean to step into the pants. Sam stood, bringing the pants with him, and snapped the button shut.

He zipped the pants, and as he was reaching for the shirt, Dean grabbed him by the arm and said, "So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"About this whole thing. About not actually being my brother." As Dean said that, Sam grabbed the shirt, which was button-up, and commenced to putting it on Dean.

"I don't know what I think," Sam said quietly.

"Well, do you want to know what I think?" Dean asked as he stuck his left arm through the hole in the shirt.

"I guess," Sam said. Dean took Sam by the arms, causing Sam to look up in surprise. Dean looked his face over for a second then took it in one of his hands. His eyes traveled to Sam's lips and Sam furrowed his brow.

They were like that for an awkward moment, both quivering nervously.

Then Dean said, "I think that now that you know what you should have known a long time ago, I can do what I should have done a long time ago." With that, Dean locked his lips on Sam's. Neither of them thought about what was happening, they just let it happen.

Sam soon found himself being overcome by passion and heat. Dean did not back down at all. He wrapped his hand around Sam's neck and brought Sam's head closer to his own. Sam bit down on Dean's lower lip, causing Dean to emit a moan that made Sam's cock twitch. They kissed heavily and amorously for a long time.

Then, Dean's mouth left Sam's and he said, "I need help getting my clothes off."

Sam looked at him in amazement and then smiled. Sam pressed his mouth into Dean's again, while sliding the unbuttoned shirt from Dean's brawny shoulders. And then it dawned on Sam: everything he had fantasized about, even though he had thought that it was wrong, was coming true.

Sam undid the button on Dean's jeans, kissing his belly as he unzipped them and pulled them down. All that was left was Dean's boxer shorts. Sam wasn't quite ready to take those down yet.

He stood back up, kissing up Dean's chest as he went. Their lips met again and Sam tried hard to stay in contact as he unbuttoned his own jeans. Somehow, he got them off without being deprived of the sweet taste of Dean's lips.

"Hang on," Sam breathed as he pulled his shirt off. Dean made a noise that sounded like desperation as he grabbed Sam and wrenched him towards himself. Before they knew it, they were hitting the floor, only inches from the coffee table.

As Dean pressed his hardness into Sam's, he said, "I've never done this before."

"Me neither," Sam breathed. "But I've read about it," he said as he pulled the basket full of shampoo, conditioner, and lotion samples from the coffee table and snatched up a bottle of lotion.

"Geek." Dean scoffed.

"Slut." At that, Sam opened the cap on the lotion and squeezed some onto his fingers. Sam didn't let their lips stay apart long. With his non-lotioned hand, he began to pull Dean's boxers off. When Dean felt them leave his body, he kissed even harder and started making small noises that made Sam even harder, if that were possible.

"Are you okay with this?" Sam breathed against Dean's lips.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Dean grunted. So, Sam obliged and before Dean knew what was happening, he felt something inside him that he had never felt before. His mouth instantly left Sam's in a powerful moan. Sam added a second finger and soon felt Dean bucking his hips uncontrollably. Sam couldn't help it; he added yet another finger and this time searched for the prostate.

When his fingers came in contact with that magic spot, Dean came all over both of them in a sticky, passionate moan. But Sam didn't stop just because Dean came. He felt like he was close to cumming himself, but he tried to prolong it.

He let his fingers do the talking as he prepared Dean for something neither of them had ever experienced. When he thought that he had done enough, he extracted his fingers with a strange sucking noise.

He tugged down his underwear and locked eyes with Dean: cold greys on Sam's river blues. And then they were no longer two. They were one being moving together in confused, lusty motions. And just as Sam had pictured, there were Dean's legs wrapped around Sam's back in a fit of passion, and Sam clasped his hands around the tops to acknowledge him, all the while shameless thrusting and grunting and moaning and thrashing.

And then, moaning in passion as Sam bit sensually at Dean's neck, and Dean answered by arching his back, causing their erections to touch. Sucking, biting, licking, and kissing at that

beautiful and perfect neck.

And then, Dean's nipples hardened as Sam licked a bit them, both of them moaning in pain and pleasure. The tender flesh broke out in Goosebumps at the chill in the air, then the soft touch, and then the delicate nibbling. Dean tasted so good to Sam.

Sam held Dean's arms above his head, pinning him to the sheets, as he locked his lusty mouth to Dean's. And finally, Dean's ass opened up underneath Sam, permitting him to take full advantage. Their breathing became hitched as it opened and clenched, opened and clenched, nearly bringing Sam to a premature orgasm. But he calmed himself and moved in time with the opening and clenching so that they both got the best of it. When Dean opened up, Sam thrust in, and when Dean clenched Sam pulled out, each time sending a riveting sensation through both of them.

At that point in time, neither of them felt as if they were in the same world. Sam's cock struck Dean's prostate and the sound that Dean emitted, along with every arresting, carnal sensation, caused Sam and Dean to orgasm all over each other at the same time.

But neither of them stopped. Not even at the stinging pain. They worked around it and soon, Sam was able to make contact with the prostate every time he thrust. Dean thought he would cum every single time. Neither of them could make a noise because they were locked in eternal orgasm.

All Dean could manage was to claw at Sam's back, and all Sam could manage was to pound, pound, pound. Sam was piled on top of Dean, who could barely breathe. But even the sensation of not being able to breathe turned Dean on.

It went on and on and neither of them got tired. Sam knew that Dean had orgasmed in a dream about him. Dean knew that Sam had ejaculated more than once at the thought of him. And they knew that they both knew, so they used it to their advantage and turned it into passion. Dean even traded places with Sam once, and Sam knew the same pleasure that Dean did because Dean was just as good at it as Sam was.

Eventually both of them felt that familiar tug behind their navel and in their sacs and each of them gave one last final, screaming orgasm. They locked together in a final kiss and then fell apart, feeling as if they had no more orgasms to ever give to anyone and both were extremely exhausted.

They lay there breathing hard, completely naked, for a long time, until Sam said breathlessly, "Skank."

And Dean replied, labored, "Bitch." Both of them laughed out, despite their lack of breath.

Sam hopped into his own clothes after he helped Dean with his.

After spending a long time cleaning up their sticky mess on the floor, they had taken a shower, and now they were packing to leave.

"So what job have we got next?" Sam asked while they climbed into the car. He sat in the seat and toyed with his long cinnamon hair and watched as Dean fixed the collar on his leather jacket and climbed in on the driver's side.

Dean turned the switch and Zeppelin blasted out of the speakers. He gave Sam a wry smile and said, "Job? To find a hotel that has room service that doesn't mind cleaning baby batter from every flat surface in the room," Dean chuckled as he ran his fingers through his short, soft hair and peeled off.