Title: The Center Can’t Hold
By: Angyl & Rina
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: AO
Warning: incest
Summary: They thought it would be easier once Sam graduated from high school. They couldn't have been more wrong.

Sam Winchester sighed and rubbed his tired eyes before returning his gaze to his laptop screen where the search engine he’d created was grinding away, looking for his specified parameters for this week’s hunt de jour. The laptop screen was currently the sole source of light in the room and cast an eerie blue glow over the contents of the shabby motel room. Glancing over to the bed, Sam could see his older brother sleeping peacefully away, looking for all intents and purposes like a quiescent child instead of the far too mature and cynical man that their life had created. For once Dean hadn’t even stirred when Sam had gotten up out of bed and booted up the almost antiquated piece of technology that they used for most of their research.

His brother had been absolutely exhausted when they pulled into the motel, which was less than a day away from their final destination. He had been hunting non-stop with Dad for the past few months while Sam had spent most of that time in class, finishing up his last year of high school, something Dean had lobbied hard for on Sam’s behalf. Even now, after everything else they’d become, Dean still faithfully threw himself in the role of older brother protector, a role he’d assumed from the day their mother had been killed by the demon, even when it meant butting heads with their father over what was best for Sam. Too damned bad Dean never bothered to take the same sort of care with himself, but that was for Sam to do, which was why he was awake at four o’clock in the morning, working on finding as much information as he could for their hunt while Dean slept on.

Sam ran a hand over his face again and stifled his growl of frustration. Dad had given them next to nothing to go on. A haunted campground in the middle of Maine, ghostly faces and tattoos drummed on car roofs by invisible fingers weren’t a hell of a lot of information, but then again Sam had had less and had still come up with the goods when he needed too. He just hoped that this would be an easy hunt. Their father had given them a seven day limit to finish the job and Sam intended to have everything wrapped up in less than three days so he could spend the remaining five getting Dean to relax and rest up.

There was a soft noise from the bed and Dean sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, though there was an air of alertness about him. "Sammy, what the hell are you doing; it’s four in the morning," he grumbled.

"Just getting a head start on the research," Sam replied with a quick smile. "Go back to sleep, Dean, you’re exhausted. Which you wouldn’t be if you’d let me drive," he added, not able to resist getting in that jab. Sometimes Sam thought that Dean would rather sacrifice a limb rather than let anyone else touch his baby. It was kind of amusing really.

"Oh, please," Dean snorted, leaning back on his elbows and looking at Sam down the length of his body, "it took me long enough to get Dad to give me the Impala, you think I’m trusting you to drive it?"

"You trust me enough to fuck your ass stupid," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Why wouldn’t you trust me with your car?"

"Because you aren’t going to scratch my ass up or dent my bumpers, are you?" Dean chuckled before patting the bed beside him. "C’mon, bed’s getting cold."

"I seem to recall more than a few gouges placed on your ass when things got a little out of control," Sam snorted. "As for denting your bumpers, been there, done that and you’ve worn the bruises to prove it," the younger man finished, his smug smile giving Dean’s a run for its money.

Turning back to his laptop, Sam typed in a few more words to narrow down his search even further and then got up and stretched, listening to the vertebrae in his back shift and pop before ambling back over to the bed where his brother was splayed ever so enticingly. "Are you trying get me back into bed in order to have your wicked way with me, Dean? Corrupt me and possibly commit incest with me? For shame."

Dean reached out and hooked a finger in Sam’s belt loop, pulling him onto the bed, half on top of him, enjoying the weight across him and the knowledge as to how Sam had filled out in the months they’d been apart. "I have no shame and you know it, Sammy," he chuckled, sliding his hands around the younger man’s waist to cup his ass. "You know it and you love it."

Groaning, Sam melted under Dean’s assault. "For the umpteenth time, it’s Sam not Sammy. God, you’re such a jerk. Why’d I ever seduce you into fucking me in the first place I’ll never know. Oh wait, that’s right, I was beyond horny, desperate to lose my virginity and you were the only one around who was marginally decent to look at," Sam retorted.

"Marginally decent?" Dean asked, his eyebrows rising before he flipped Sam under him and grinned down at him. "That’s not what you said before, in fact, I remember you begging for my hot bod."

"Like I said, horny and desperate. Any stiff dick would do at that point," Sam chortled. "I guess it was a good thing we weren’t staying with Caleb or Bobby by that point, hunh?"

Dean gagged and rolled off Sam. "Oh, that’s disgusting! No way any part of me is getting stiff now."

Sam chuckled, low and wicked, and followed Dean so that he was lying on top of the other man. "You’re absolutely sure you’re not gonna get it up now?" he purred as he licked a path from one of Dean’s nipples up to his neck where Sam began to nibble lightly. Grinding his hips down against Dean’s, he lapped his way up a tanned and taut throat before claiming those fuck me lips with his own, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth. It was only when oxygen became necessary that Sam pulled back, grinning as he felt Dean’s cock pressing hard into his thigh.

"I have to admit, once I got over the whole ‘I want my big brother to fuck me’ thing it was pretty damned hot," he whispered into Dean’s ear as he shifted, rocking his hips back and forth in subtle rhythm. "The way it felt, your fingers sliding into me, stretching me and getting me ready for you. You lubed me up and all the while you were whispering those dirty words in my ear, telling me what to do, how to move, ordering me to relax. And then your cock sliding into me for the first time, hot, hard and God, it hurt so good, Dean. You were big, thick, and it felt like you were so far inside me that you were gonna burst out of my throat."

"You moaning and gasping under me, writhing like you didn’t know if you wanted more or less of me," Dean purred, his hands flexing on Sam’s ass, fingertips tracing the seam of his jeans over his crack. "And should I mention how you pretty much passed out when you came?"

"No, fuckwad, you shouldn’t," Sam snarled without heat, smacking Dean upside the head and then reluctantly heaved himself off of his brother. "But seeing as how you’re certain you’re not getting hard again tonight I might as well go back to my research. It’s not like I’ve got any thing else to entertain me now that I’m up," the younger Winchester taunted.

"Well, if you’re that hard up, I suppose I could always settle back here and let you go for it; take one for the team."

Sam burst into peals of laughter. "Right, you’re just gonna lie there and take it like a man, hunh? Pull the other one, Dean."

"Which one is it you want me to pull?"

"God, could you be any more of an asshole if you tried?" Sam muttered under his breath even as he began to strip out of the jeans he’d pulled on when he’d gotten out of bed earlier. "Arrogant, pushy, so full of yourself your eyes should be shit colored... it baffles me why I keep coming back for more of this abuse. I mean I already get enough ‘little brother’ shit, do I have to get it when we’re in bed too?" the younger man groused as he clambered on top of Dean and sealed his mouth over the older man’s if for no other reason then to shut him up.

"You know, just for that I’m gonna fuck you into the floor," Sam remarked casually as they came up for air before latching on to his favorite part of Dean’s neck. Sam bit and worried the flesh there wanting nothing more than to see his mark on Dean, a tangible sign that yes, Sam Winchester had been there.

Dean chuckled, though the sound turned into a needy moan when Sam bit him again. "Yeah, I sort of figured that was the plan," he gasped, twisting to grind his cock against Sam’s, his fingers digging into Sam’s back as they writhed together.

"Gotta make sure you remember who you belong to," Sam muttered as one hand scrambled on the bedside table looking for the lube that had migrated there from Dean’s bag almost the moment they’d finished laying the salt lines and securing the room for the night. In fact, Dean had been rummaging for the damned stuff even as he’d checked in with Dad to let him know they were safe for the night, which had caused Sam’s face to heat as if their father could see what his eldest son was doing over the phone line.

Finally snagging the tube after more blind fumbling, Sam slithered down the bed, ignoring Dean’s protests. When he was mouth level with Dean’s cock, Sam looked up through obscenely long lashes and watched the reaction as his tongue laved a path from balls to head and then sealed his mouth over its tip and began to suckle, humming happily as Dean started to moan and writhe beneath him. Shifting around, Sam soon had Dean’s legs on his shoulders and one lube slick finger sliding in and out of Dean’s ass, fucking him lightly.

"Christ, Sammy, more," Dean moaned, twisting between Sam’s hand and mouth, his fingers threading through Sam’s longish hair, yanking his head downward so that he swallowed more of Dean’s cock.

Sam made an amused sound, the vibration traveling along Dean’s cock even as he added a second finger to the older man’s ass. Twisting and rocking his fingers, Sam sought after and found Dean’s prostate and began to brush against it mercilessly even as he let his mouth drag along Dean’s pride and joy eliciting some very interesting noises from above him.

Dean shuddered, his back arching off the bed as his balls tightened. "Fuck, Sammy, keep that up and I’m going to come," he rasped.

Drawing his mouth back, Sam’s lips made an obscene smacking noise as they were pulled off of Dean’s cock. "That’s the general idea, Dean," the younger man purred before diving back down and taking as much of Dean as he could manage in one mouthful.

Oh yeah, he wanted to make Dean come, fuck him until he got hard again and then maybe take a leisurely ride until they both came again. Sam wanted Dean mindless, begging and speaking only Sam’s name. It was a side of the teenager that rarely came out, this possessive, jealous streak, but it was out tonight and Dean was gonna reap the benefits of Sam’s mood in no uncertain terms.

"Asshole," Dean muttered before groaning, his hands fisting in Sam’s hair as he bucked upwards, giving in to Sam’s skills and losing himself in the hot suction around his cock.

"Mmm hmmm," Sam agreed as he continued to suck and lick and tease Dean for all that he was worth. A third finger joined the two inside of Dean’s ass, adding pressure and friction. Sam could taste the bitter salt of his brother’s precome on his tongue and knew that Dean was close. A few more swipes of his tongue and a little more playing with his ass would be all it would take.

"Oh, fuck, Sammy!" Dean howled, thrashing around under Sam, his whole body tensing as he came.

Greedy, Sam swallowed as fast as he could, determined to catch every drop of Dean’s come. He continued to suckle until Dean’s groans grew faint and he felt hands shove weakly at his shoulders to get him to let go.

Sitting back on his haunches, Sam licked his lips and traced a finger up his chest, neck and chin, gathering up the escaped come before popping it into his mouth and lapping at it with a heated moan. "Fuck, you taste amazing," the younger man purred as he watched the almost insensate man beneath him through pleasure heavy eyes.

Crawling up Dean’s body until he was hovering over him, Sam relaxed his arms enough to lower himself down and kissed Dean hard, driving his tongue inside his mouth in order to share Dean’s taste with him. "Gonna fuck you now, Dean, get you hard again and then leave you wanting until I get my ride. What do you think of that?"


Dean groaned, dragging his arms up around Sam’s waist and pulling him close, feeling Sam’s erection dig into the hollow of his hip. "I say go for it, dude," he murmured, giving a languorous smile as he squirmed under Sam’s weight.

"What a shock," Sam chuckled with a roll of his eyes. "You’re such a dog, Dean, good thing I happen to be the one reaping the benefits." Snagging the lube once again, Sam quickly slicked himself up and, shifting his hips and slotting himself into place between Dean’s legs, slid inside with a smooth thrust.

"What can I say?" Dean chuckled, rolling his hips under Sam’s before hooking his legs around Sam’s ass. "I know what I like and what I want."

"Yeah, yeah you do," Sam twisted his hips and circled them as he pulled out and then shoved back in a little more harshly than before. "God, you feel so good," he gasped as he picked up speed, close to the edge already due to the taste and sound of Dean coming. "God, gonna fuck you, fuck you so hard, love you so damned much, Dean," Sam gasped slamming harder and harder.

Dean nodded, dragging Sam in for a hungry kiss as they slammed together, their bodies slapping together as he clenched down on Sam’s cock. "Same here, Sammy," he rasped, sliding his hands down to cup and knead Sam’s ass.

"You’d fucking better," Sam rasped, biting lightly on Dean’s lower lip and then licking the small hurt. "Oh fuck, I’m not gonna last long," he groaned driving harder and harder, "fuck, Dean, need you."

"I’m yours, Sammy," Dean whispered, "all yours, always, so take me."

"God," Sam gasped and gave in to the need to drive into Dean hard and fast. He’d never get tired of this feeling, of being inside Dean, of Dean’s scent and taste and the knowledge that he was the one who Dean wanted to be with, wanted to belong to. Christ, so close, a few more strokes and... "Fuck, DEAN!!!!" Sam’s spine went ramrod straight as his orgasm ripped from the base of his skull all the way down and out of his cock in white hot pulses of pure bliss.

Dean kept his eyes locked on Sam’s, watching the younger man as he came, loving the look of total pleasure and abandon on Sam’s face as he rode out his orgasm. "That’s it, all mine, always," he murmured.

"Yes," Sam hissed, his arms giving out from exhaustion and sending him crashing down onto Dean’s body. "Oh Christ, Dean, that was... fan-fucking-tastic," he sighed and then broke into a grin as he felt the older man’s renewed erection digging into his hip. "Didn’t take you long, did it?"

"Hey, I’m twenty-two and I’ve got a hot lover, can you blame me?" Dean chuckled.

"I’m not about to complain," Sam chuckled. "Especially since I’m getting some on a semi-regular basis. Give me a few minutes and then I’ll be more than happy to take care of that for you."

Dean smirked and rolled them over so that Sam was pinned under him. "How about you just stay right there and I’ll take of myself." He pulled back, shifting himself to between Sam’s legs and grabbed for the lube.

"Is this where I lie back and think of England?" Sam smirked.

"This is where you lie back and think of how damn good I am at this."

"Excuse me?" Sam snorted indignantly. "I think I need to go out and get empirical evidence of the fact. After all, your word is shit."

"And just who do you plan on picking up to try this out with?" Dean asked, pressing a slicked up finger into Sam’s ass.

"Someone cute, hot, and with a big dick," Sam groaned, arching his back slightly and spreading his legs a little wider to allow Dean better access.

"You’ve got that here, why accept second best?"

"Lack of proof of your boast for one," Sam smirked. "For all I know you could be small. If that’s the case I really need to see what average or above average would be."

"You telling me you never looked at any other guys in gym class? Sammy, I’m ashamed," Dean purred, adding a second finger and rubbing them over Sam’s prostate.

"Oh fucking hell," Sam groaned, writhing on Dean’s fingers. "And of course I looked, you shithead, but let’s face it, they weren’t exactly aroused for a comparison, and I wasn’t about to offer to give them a hand, even if I could kick their collective asses without so much as getting a scratch."

"Poor baby," Dean crooned, "how did you ever survive?"

"Came home and fucked you blind in order to relieve my frustrated desires at all those gorgeous jocks. Aren’t you glad you were a convenient hole, I mean aren’t you glad you were there to benefit from my attention?"

"Christ, Sammy, and you say I’m cold," Dean sighed, lubing up his cock and pushing into Sam’s ass.

Sam snickered but the sound rapidly morphed into a hungry moan as Dean buried himself to the balls inside him. "Fuck, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to have in my ass, you moron. You think I’d let just anyone fuck me stupid?" he panted, wrapping his long legs around Dean’s back and using the heels of his feet to try and force the other man just a little bit deeper.

"Well, I don’t know about before me, considering you can be an idiot at times," Dean gasped, holding himself still, "but now? No way."

"Will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already?" Sam groaned exasperatedly, not bothering to point out yet again that Dean had been the first and only guy to ever get inside his ass. Sometimes Dean’s ego had Sam wanting to gag the older man any way he could, usually with Sam’s cock as the gag, but the logistics were impossible at the moment. Pressing down harder with his heels, Sam arched upwards and bit the base of Dean’s neck hard, hoping to spur him on. "Move your goddamned ass, dude, you’re not getting any younger here."

Dean rocked his hips shallowly, all the while grinning down at Sam. "Second round, man, time to enjoy a nice, long ride."

"Son of a bitch," Sam moaned, his legs climbing higher onto Dean’s back and settling in comfortably for the promised long ride. "Good thing you don’t let me drive, I can get some sleep while you drive."

"Good thing Dad’s not here," Dean chuckled, continuing the slow, shallow motion, "he’d start ragging on you, wondering why a full night’s sleep wasn’t enough rest."

"I can’t remember the last time I got a full night’s sleep when you were around and Dad wasn’t," Sam retorted with a grin. "Not to mention you dragging me out to the car for quickies once he’s gone to sleep. You know, they have help for people like you, right, twelve step programs for sex addicts."

"But that would mean admitting I had a problem; which I don’t."

"Of course not, you’re Dean Winchester, demon killing bad ass," Sam mocked playfully, tugging Dean down for another kiss. "Well, okay, the ass part I can see..."

"Best one you’ll ever see, though yours comes a close second," Dean chuckled once he could speak again though he never let up on his slow thrusts.

"Bite me," Sam started to growl only to have his voice transform his words into an embarrassingly needy sound that had the color rising in his cheeks. Fuck, Dean was gonna crucify him for that one, Sam just knew it. Of course, it didn’t help that the bastard had scored a direct hit on his prostate and was even now raking the head of his cock over it, forcing more of those noises to emerge from Sam’s throat no matter how hard he tried to stop them from escaping.

"Think I will," Dean smirked, leaning in to close his teeth on Sam’s shoulder, leaving a perfect set of imprints once he pulled off and noting that Sam’s moans gained a new pitch with that move.

"Fuck. Just, fuck!" Sam arched and his eyes slid shut as a full body shudder raced through him. God, he loved it when Dean did that, left a physical reminder of this, of himself, on Sam’s skin. Sam knew he’d be feeling that one for days, although he’d have to be careful not to take his shirt off when Dad was around.

"That the best you can do, pussy?" he taunted after gaining some semblance of control. "Thought you were supposed to be ‘the best’. So far, I’m not so impressed. You’re sliding into mediocrity right now."

Dean snorted, though his voice had deepened in response to Sam’s reactions. "Yeah, that’s why you just about shot off like a rocket just now, but to keep you from getting bored..." He slid a hand up Sam’s chest and pinched his nipples, playing with them as he sped up his strokes, driving into Sam’s ass and making him shudder beneath him.

"B-better," Sam gasped, writhing under Dean’s ministrations. "God, Dean," he managed to get out before he lost all semblance of coherency. His body was on fire and his brain was on overload.

Sam was swimming in sensation, the feel of Dean in his ass, his hot breath on Sam’s neck, his hands on his chest, the scent of them, all musk, sex and the leather smell that was an intrinsic part of Dean. Sam loved losing himself like this, wallowing in Dean, in the two of them fucking until they passed out from pleasure. He forgot everything but Dean in him and around him, until there was only the two of them and the bed underneath them, the world fading away to nothingness.

"That’s it, Sammy," Dean urged, twisting his hips before kissing Sam again, devouring his mouth and losing the battle to keep from coming the moment he felt Sam spasm beneath him, sending wet fire gouting over his stomach.

His orgasm left him worn out and boneless, and he nuzzled Sam’s neck as he shifted to the side to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around the younger man’s body.

"I gotcha, Dean," Sam promised softly, kissing his temple before shifting and finding a comfortable, not to mention dry spot, on the bed then following Dean into sleep.

"Turn should be on the left hand side about a mile up the road. It’s called Shady Groves. Sounds like something out of a campy horror movie actually. Looks like we’re going to be roughing it for the next few nights until we figure out what’s going on. Good thing the camping gear didn’t get destroyed the last time we used it. What were we after then? Some sort of were, wasn’t it?"

"Yeah, bear type," Dean sighed before groaning. "Fuck, I hate camping; give me a ghost in the city, anything to stay away from this back to nature crap."

"Hey, at least we have an excuse to share a sleeping bag this way," Sam smirked, "it gets cold at night still. Gotta conserve body heat."

"You looking forward to giving the ghost a shot of your bony white ass when it peeks in at us?" Dean asked, glancing to the side to grin at Sam.

"Only goes to prove I’ve got the better ass if it’s mine they wanna gawk at it," Sam replied mildly, not raising his head from the map.

Dean snickered. "Nah, but them seeing it would scare them enough to banish them so it would save us a hell of a lot of work." He steered the Impala down the rutted road leading to the campsite, snarling each time the shocks jounced. "So what did you manage to find last night? Anything?"

Without even looking Sam reached out and smacked the back Dean’s head. "Not a helluva lot. A bunch of teenagers were going to camp out and party a bit. They got there and had started to unpack when everything went batshit. Faces in the woods, car engines dying, batteries being drained and then someone using the roof of their car for a drum until they’d managed to restart the engine and hightail it out of there."

"That thing touches my car, I’m gonna get really pissed," Dean growled as they pulled up to the office.

"Then we’d better find them before they find us so that your baby doesn’t get hurt," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Do me a favor, stay in the car, let me handle the check in."

"Why? So you can pay what they ask?" Dean grumbled, turning up the stereo as Sam got out of the car and headed up the worn steps toward the building that amounted to little more than a shack.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Sam muttered, shooting a dirty look back towards the car as he climbed the steps to the office. "It’s not like it’s ours to begin with, Ed Flanders," he called out before heading into the office in order to register them.

Stirring the baked beans one more time, Sam flipped the burgers out onto two plates and then dished up the rest of the meal before calling out for Dean. "Yo, stop jerking off in the woods and get back here, dinner’s ready."

"Hey, I was making like a bear," Dean commented as he reappeared, fastening his belt. "And may I say, you make a lovely little cook, Sammy."

"So you were shitting in the woods?" Sam retorted, flipping Dean off as he fished out some cutlery for each of them. "You buy me an apron and you’re never getting any ever again, ‘coz you won’t have any equipment to do anything with. I guarantee."

"Like you could ever take me that way," Dean snorted, dropping down beside him and taking the plate he offered.

"Don’t get too cocky, short stuff, because I’ve kicked your ass on more than one occasion," Sam grinned, digging into his own meal. "So, how you wanna play this tonight? Are we gonna act like idiot campers and sucker them in or are we hitting them first?"

"Hard to hit them first when we don’t know where they are," Dean commented after swallowing the bite he’d taken. "Or what they are, so I say act like idiots; won’t be too hard I’m sure."

"For you anyways," Sam agreed, taking a swig from his can of Pepsi. "Better keep the guns next to the sleeping bag and under the pillows for easy access. We gonna lay salt lines inside the tent or just let ‘em in?"

"Doesn’t do much good to keep ‘em out, does it?"

"Probably not but I don’t want them getting too up close and personal either," Sam replied, finishing his meal with a happy sigh. "I cooked, you get to do the dishes. Have fun," he grinned, standing up and heading over to his pack for the book on ancient Latin exorcism ceremonies that he was currently reading.

"Gee, thanks dear, love you too," Dean snorted as he gathered up the dirty dishes and carried them over to the pump to scrub at them, too well-trained by their father to ignore them.

"So," he commented, dropping down to the ground beside Sam after he was done cleaning up, "reading anything good?"

"Found a new exorcism that could be helpful if we ever run across a vengeful warlock," Sam grinned, setting the book aside and shifting until his head was in Dean’s lap. "I’ve booked the campground for a week so I figure we could stay for a few extra days once we’ve wasted these fuckers and just relax and recharge. Dad’s not expecting us back until next week and there’s a lake just down that road. We’re pretty much the only ones in the campground right now because of the haunting. We could go skinny dipping."

"You aren’t worried about burning your ass?" Dean asked, reaching over and plucking the book from Sam’s hands to look at the incantation. "And if we’re staying here, I’m getting some beer."

"We can go shopping once we toast our ghosts," Sam agreed, closing his eyes and getting comfortable. "In case you haven’t noticed, my ass is tanned, Dean, no way it’s gonna burn. Yours on the other hand..."

"Tanning your ass... what do they teach you kids these days?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Sam smirked, rolling over onto his stomach, pressing his face against Dean’s crotch and then running his tongue along the fly before looking up at Dean through thick lashes.

"You really do want those ghosts to see your ass, don’t you?" Dean grinned, stroking a hand through Sam’s dark hair.

"Is it my fault that I’ve got an ass worthy of admiration by everything living and dead?" Sam mumbled moving upwards and pushing the hem of Dean’s tee shirt up with a hand so he could dip his tongue into the other man’s navel before rolling onto his back once more with his head planted on a well-muscled thigh. "But since you don’t seem to want it exposed to the world I’ll just have to keep it to the ground, won’t I?"

Dean considered shifting his leg and letting Sam’s head hit the ground, but decided he liked sitting this way and rubbed his hand over Sam’s chest instead. "For now anyway, Sammy, and tonight we’re working, so it’s probably a good thing your ass is staying there."

"You’re probably right," Sam agreed with a smile. "Doesn’t mean that I can’t think about it, though, your cock buried in my throat, the way you taste, those noises you make when you’ve lost control and can’t bite them back any more. Do you know how hot you sound when I make you whimper?" he asked, his smile spreading and taking on a wicked appearance as he felt Dean’s reaction to his words growing every second as it was pressed against his cheek. "Man, you are so easy" he laughed, rolling to his feet in a seemingly effortless move. "I’m gonna go grab some extra ammo from the trunk, I don’t want us to run out when we need it most. Anything else you think we might need?"

"Cold water," Dean growled, shying a small rock in Sam’s direction before getting to his feet as well, his movements slightly more careful than Sam’s had been. After stretching, he looked around the campsite, scanning the darkening woods for other fires, signs of nearby campsites, and noting two within sight.

"Having some issues there?" Sam snickered as he popped the trunk and lifted the covering to get to the hidden weapons. "Hey, you got any clue on how to make us the most inviting targets here?" he continued after a moment, turning to watch Dean examine their surroundings, eyes following the same route and spotting the same issue; neighbors. "Damn, we may have a problem if they hear the shots being fired."

Dean frowned and shook his head. "No idea how we can make ourselves the targets and if they hear, well, we just play drunk frat boys or shit like that."

"That works," Sam replied with a shrug. "I wish Dad had given us more than just the coordinates and the bare bones situation. This whole working blind thing sucks, man," Sam groused as he rummaged around in the trunk for the sawed off shotguns and rock salt cartridges. He grabbed a box of the ones that had been blessed by Pastor Jim for good measure and then frowned.

"Think Dad would let us take a run down to Pastor Jim’s instead of heading straight home? We’re running low on consecrated bullets and holy water. The holy water’s easy but the bullets are a bitch to get blessed." Checking his watch Sam reached for his cell phone and held it out to Dean. "Better call and let him know we’re here and we’re on the job. Last thing we need is the cell phone going off and distracting us at the wrong moment."

"What, you can’t call him?" Dean snorted, taking the phone and hitting the speed dial and leaning against the side of the car, listening to their father’s phone ring.

"No," Sam replied with a dark frown. "We’d just end up yelling at each other again and I have no desire to engage in a shouting match on the phone just before a hunt."

"God, I wish the two of you could get along," Dean sighed before straightening unconsciously as their father answered the phone. "Hey Dad... Yeah, we’re here and set up, nothing much to report so far, we’ll see what happens when it gets dark."

"You boys be careful, and don’t forget, I need you back here in a week," John cautioned sternly on the other end of the phone. "As it is I’m giving you a helluva lot of leeway because I expect Sam will need some time to get back in the game. Don’t take any unnecessary risks and watch out for your brother."

Sam scowled as he watched Dean’s body language change from his usual nonchalant slouch to the soldier at attention. This was just one of the reasons why he and his father constantly butted heads, the fact that Sam refused to be a good little warrior. He wanted so much more out of life than the edge of society existence that they’d grown up with. Sam wanted the normal, white bread, cookie cutter life. And he planned on getting it somehow, some day.

Snatching the phone out of Dean’s hand and ignoring both the scowl and the punch to his arm, Sam managed to catch the tail end of John’s comment about Dean having to watch out for him. "I can take care of myself Dad," he informed his father with barely concealed annoyance. "Just because I didn’t go hunting with the two of you it doesn’t mean I stopped training."

"Sam..." John said warningly.

"We’re down to our last few bottles of holy water and we’ve only got a couple of boxes of blessed bullets left. You mind if we swing by Pastor Jim’s on our way home to restock?"

John sighed loudly. "Two more days, Sam, no extra. I’ve got a line on a group of rakshasas in South Carolina that I’ll need your help with."

"Yes sir, we’ll be there," Sam replied before turning off the phone and tossing it to Dean with a smile. "See? I can play nice. I even managed to score us two more days."

Dean rolled his eyes and clapped his hands together sarcastically. "Good boy, Sammy. I’m proud of you."

"Oh bite me, bitch."

"Don’t call me a bitch, bitch," Dean shot back, pocketing his phone before tackling Sam and closing his teeth on the younger man’s shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "And don’t whine, you told me to do it," he snickered when Sam tried to throw him off.

"Christ, what are you, a two year old?" Sam yelped, shoving hard at Dean and trying to elbow him hard enough to get him off of Sam. "I’m gonna have to go get a rabies shot now, you diseased freak!"

"Bullshit," Dean laughed, rolling back and off Sam after biting him again. "If you were going to get it from me, you would have long before and you know it."

"HA!" Sam snorted as he decided that two could play this came. He came in low and hard, taking Dean out at the waist and sending him sprawling before climbing on top and straddling him, pinning Dean in place. "You infected me with this incredible need to fuck and be fucked by you which means the whole reason why we’re lovers is coz you picked up some weird ass STD from one of your skanky ho’s, probably that succubus you banged in Des Moines before you realized what she was, and that’s the whole reason I’m so addicted to you I can’t get enough," Sam crowed triumphantly, grinding down on Dean’s half filled cock and licking a long wet line up the other man’s throat before scrambling off and out of striking range with an almost maniacal laugh.

"Grab the gear, will you? I’m gonna go scout the other camp areas, make with the friendly and see if they’ve noticed anything strange since they’ve been here," Sam continued with a snicker before sprinting for the tree line and safety.

"You are such a little shit and I do mean little!" Dean yelled after him, though he was snickering as he dusted himself off and grabbed the rest of their gear before heading back to the camp. Once there, he organized their hunting supplies and sat, cross-legged, sharpening his knife while waiting for Sam to come back.

Half an hour later Sam came back, considerably more sober than when he had he had left. Sitting down next to Dean he grabbed his whetstone and the wickedly curved knife that had been his fourteenth birthday present from their father. It had become a ritual for Sam, sharpening the blade and then oiling and polishing it until it gleamed helped him focus and collect his thoughts.

"The campsite to the left is a bunch of pseudo ghost-hunters who think they can film the phenomenon and make big bucks on TV. They’ll run at the first sight of anything piss-your-pants-scary. The other campsite could be a problem, in more ways than one. Survivalists from the look of them and totally into God and country and all that shit. They’re itching to bag a ghost and are getting liquored up to do it. However, if they even think that we’re anything but a couple of brothers on a camping trip, meaning if we’re fucking each other, they could decide we’d make easier targets," he said after long moments of silent contemplation. "So we’re gonna have to watch for them as well as our ghost and try and keep a lid on things if we do anything at all."

"Sure you can, being so addicted to me and all?" Dean asked, canting a sidelong look at his brother. "We handle it around Dad, I think we can handle it around a bunch of drunk rednecks, though they may end up being more dangerous than the ghost."

"I’d say bite me again but I still haven’t had my rabies shots," Sam intoned with a roll of his eyes. "And it’s not the idea of them trying to lynch us that has me worried, it’s the idea of a couple of drunk off their asses idiots with shotguns roaming the woods at night going ‘here ghostie’. I’m half tempted to call the park ranger and get them tossed just to make our lives easier but the last thing we need is the local law enforcement showing up and hanging out."

"Dude, what park ranger?" Dean asked incredulously. "You think a place like this really springs for security? We’ll just have to take care of it before they get going any more."

"Great," Sam groaned. "Oh well, one less thing for us to worry about I guess. Maybe we’ll be lucky and they’ll drink themselves into a stupor and pass out," he hoped out loud as he sent his blade down the stone one last time before grabbing the oil and cloth, polishing the metal until it gleamed in the falling dusk until he was satisfied with his work and put the blade back in its sheath.


Standing and stretching, Sam could feel his almost too small tee-shirt ride up and expose a long line of sinew and muscle. Damn, he really had to get some new clothes, the old ones weren’t cutting it since he’d finally hit his last growth spurt. Sam knew was still more gangly than not but his stomach was coming along nicely, if he did say so himself. He’d never have the muscles that Dean did but then again, he’d have at least three or four inches on his brother so it was all good in the end. Wiry wasn’t bad when you were tall.

Relaxing from the stretch, Sam idly scratched his stomach, turned, and ducked to enter the tent, wanting to get it set up for the night. Sam quickly laid out the foam padding and then unrolled their sleeping bags on top of it. After a moment’s hesitation, he unzipped the two bags and then zipped them together. Dean was right; they’d been sneaking around their father for a long time now, no sense letting a bunch of idiots spook him. Throwing the pillows at the ‘head’ of the bed Sam tucked his knife which he’d brought with him, under it. "Hey, Dean, we got enough fire wood to keep through the night or do we need more?" he hollered over his shoulder as he did a quick check of the tent to make sure everything else was in it’s place.

"Should have enough," Dean answered, glancing in the direction of the tent and shaking his head. "Dude, working tonight," he commented, nodding at the sleeping bags.

"Just making sure that the fires keep stoked, Dean," Sam shot back quickly with a double entendre, wiggling his ass playfully. "Besides, I’m not gonna pass up the opportunity to be able to sleep next to you and not have to worry about Dad."

Backing out of the tent, Sam ambled over to sit next to Dean and let his head fall onto his brother’s shoulder. "I know we’ve got a job to do, ghosts to waste and so on and so forth but... it’s nice, you know? Just the two of us. It means we don’t have to keep up pretences or anything. I like it."

"Yeah, it is," Dean murmured, for once leaving off with the teasing. "I’m glad you’re done with school so we can chill together - in between doing the ghosts and all."

"Dean, if you do a ghost you’re not touching me ever again," Sam chuckled, nudging the other man with his elbow. "Man, you really would hump a table leg if you had to, wouldn’t you?"

Dean shook his head and raised a hand to give Sam a noogie. "And you say I’m obsessed with sex..."

"I blame you entirely. You’ve rubbed off on me in more ways than one, apparently," Sam chuckled. "If my GPA slips it’s your fault, you realize that?"

"You graduated, remember, man? Unless you’re talking about your ghost popping average there aren’t any grades to worry about."

"Right," Sam muttered and shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I’m still in school mode," he offered as he stared into the fire, desperately trying to avoid any eye contact because he knew Dean would see his discomfiture and pounce. There were times when the fact that Dean was the only one he knew him inside and out was more of a hindrance than a blessing.

Sam hadn’t told Dean about how he’d applied to as many universities as he could and that he wanted nothing more than to continue his education, especially since he’d been accepted into Stanford. Nor had he told his brother how he wasn’t like Dean, how he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life living hand to mouth, running scams and killing demons, how he wanted a real job, a real life, to be part of society instead of living on the fringes. Sam didn’t know how to find the words without driving a wedge between them.

He also didn’t know how to reconcile the fact that Dean was his lover with the life he wanted when the very nature of their relationship was doubly taboo for being both homosexual and incestuous. Bad enough to fuck a guy, but fuck your brother? And yet Sam knew he wouldn’t willingly give Dean up because Dean was... everything.

Over the years Dean had been father, brother, friend, teacher, companion, and now lover. He was everything Sam wanted, everything he needed. But how the hell could he resolve it, especially given what he was gravitating towards as a major. How could someone in pre-law flout some of the most basic and upheld tenets of the society they lived in? Sam didn’t have any answers so he was opting for the ‘ignore it until you had to deal with it’ school of thought. He only hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite him on the ass and then slam him into the dirt.

Dean turned his head just enough to look at Sam and studied him for a moment. "You sure that’s what it is?" he asked dryly. "Or is it you’re nervous about being out in the field again?"

"What?" Sam looked up and glared at Dean. "Why the hell would I be nervous about a bunch of ghosts? I mean I might have been if it were something big like a were or a wendigo or something bad ass and corporeal but ghosts? Dude, I’m not that rusty," Sam rejoined, indignation and disgust dripping from every word.

"Seeing is believing, Sammy," Dean laughed, enjoying the reaction. "Me, I’m betting you screech like a little girl when the first one shows up."

"Oh you are so gonna pay for that. Watch and see if I take care of your scrawny ass and more than likely pull it out of the fire coz you did some stupid-assed, dick-brained thing that tends to get you in hot water," Sam replied haughtily.

"You gonna explain it to Dad then?" Dean snorted. "I’d love to hear that one."

"I was rusty and screamed like a little girl and you weren’t there to protect poor helpless widdle me," Sam replied in a grating falsetto complete with the batting of his eyes.

"Because if you let me get killed - man, if that’s the case, I’m so haunting you."

"And then you get to watch me do every hot piece of ass that I can find just to piss you off," Sam snickered and jabbed Dean lightly as he threw another log on the fire, watching as it hissed and popped and finally caught. "Damn, I wish these ghosts would get a move on. I want to get some shut eye."

Dean snorted at that and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "C’mon, Sammy, they don’t show up on your time-table, you know that. Just chill until we see or hear something."

"Doesn’t stop me from wanting it. Although if we’re lucky the longer these ghosties take to show up the more liquored up the yahoos down the way will be and hopefully they’ll pass out and be out of our hair."

Dean nodded at that. "Yeah, good point, but it never works out that easy, does it?"

"Just for once I’d really really like it too. Have the hillbillies pass out, the ghosts show up tonight and us able to sleep in, fool around and fuck like rabbits until we have to go home again," Sam replied. "But you’re right. Chances are its not gonna happen that way."

"It is a nice thought though," Dean mused, "especially the sleeping in part."

"Let me guess, gotta catch up on your beauty sleep, right pretty boy?" Sam chuckled, picking up a stick to poke at the embers of the fire underneath the remaining wood, distributing the coals a little more evenly. "For a guy who doesn’t do ‘chick moments’ you sure spend enough time in front of a mirror," Sam continued to tease even as his eyes scanned the forest surrounding their clearing and he listened intently for any sound of paranormal activity.

"This from the squirt who spends all his money on gel and shit," Dean snorted, resting his free hand on the shotgun.

Sam made an exaggerated sniffing smell. "What’s that I smell? Could it be Eau de Bullshit, he who buys salon shampoo and conditioner and wears CK One?" Sam teased right back knowing that Dean didn’t do the former and only owned a bottle of the latter thanks to some ex-girlfriend or something. There was something just so... normal... about the whole razzing of each other over the small shit that always brought a grin to Sam’s face.

Movement caught the corner of his eye and Sam’s hand slid over to Dean’s knee, squeezing it in warning. He continued to appear to stare into the fire, his whole body seemingly relaxed as he tracked the movement carefully. "So just who did give you that cologne, anyway? Let me guess, blonde, stacked, short skirts and air between her ears. Probably a Muffy or a Tiffy or something coz CK One is what’s in right now and all the trendy girls pay attention to that sorta stuff," he rambled on, making stupid conversation while they waited to see if it was their ghosts coming to call or just the wannabes from one of the other campsites.

"Nah, her name was Julie and she had the hottest rack you’ve ever seen," Dean smirked though he, too, was watching the woods.

"You boys out here looking for the ghost?" A rough voice called before two men stepped into the campsite, both wearing flannel and several days’ growth of stubble.

Sam stifled the groan that threatened to erupt. Fuck, it had to be the rednecks. And he’d been hoping that it was the ghosts so they could kick back for the rest of the week.

Putting on his best boy next door grin, complete with the dimples, he looked up at the speaker. "We’re just here for the camping, sir. My big brother is just a little over cautious, is all, what with that bear attack a month or so back. I guess with our dad being an ex-Marine and all and teaching us how to shoot a gun before we could barely walk was a good thing in the end, wasn’t it Dean?" Sam grinned as his own hand slid to his weapon. The yahoos didn’t need to know that the shotguns were only filled with rock salt and, worst case; it would still sting like a son-of-a-bitch and give the two of them time to get to their other weapons.

"What he said," Dean nodded. "Is there something going on ‘round here?"

"Dude, the ‘ghosts’," Sam made air quotes as he spoke, "remember? C’mon, man, you don’t actually believe in ghosts and shit, do you?" Sam queried, looking at the guy as if he were nuts and as he let his hand creep obviously closer to his own shotgun.

"There’s somethin’ out in these woods that’s big and mean and will eat little boys like you for supper," redneck one growled while redneck two twitched slightly.

"Dude, seriously, ghosts? Our dad used to tell us shit like that to scare us!" Sam laughed. "I bet it’s that bear come back for a second helping of fresh meat or something. Hey Dean, you remember that bear that Dad shot when he took us backpacking in the Appalachians? That thing had to have weighed at least 500 pounds. Don’t know if he actually managed to kill it or just made it run away but I remember hightailing it down the mountain as fast as we could. And the noise it made... creepiest damned sound I’ve ever heard. If I hadn’t seen Dad bag it the noise might have actually convinced me that there was something supernatural in the forest but as it was... dying animals make pretty whack noises, y’know."

"Yeah, I remember you shrieking like a little girl," Dean snickered, though he never took his eyes off the two men. "And thanks for the warning; we’ll keep and eye out for anything strange."

"Nah, that was you, dickwad," Sam retorted, punching Dean in the arm hard.

Seemingly satisfied with what they heard and saw their guests grunted their goodbyes and headed back into the woods to continue their ghost search without a backwards glance. Sam sighed gustily and felt some of the tension drain out of his shoulders. "I say we waste the ghosts and get the hell out of here, find another campground or something to chill at for the rest of the week."

"Fine with me," Dean nodded, clambering to his feet, shotgun in hand, as he stared in the direction the yahoos had gone. "That was a little too close to a scene from Deliverance. So, let’s hit the woods."

"Yeah, I don’t know if it’s comforting or not to know there are people out there who live stranger lives than us," Sam murmured as he stood and grabbed his own gun. "But we’re sticking together. There’s safety in numbers and you’re just too damned pretty for your own good; they might mistake you for a girl in the dark," he teased.

"With your hair? Ha!" Dean elbowed Sam in the side. "Let’s go bag us some ghosts."

"Leave my hair alone, freak; I just haven’t had time to cut it yet," Sam groused, shooting Dean a glare before following him out into the woods.

The scream came from all around them; an unearthly noise that first had Sam thinking of banshees but the research hadn’t indicated any banshee infestations. "Okaaay, that’s a new and different noise, even for ghosts."

"No movement," Dean reported, all business now that they were working. "I don’t smell anything either. You?"

"Nada," Sam murmured. "But all the reports stated that the screams were a precursor to the ghosts manifesting, so keep your eyes peeled and try not to shoot Billy Ray and Jim Bob."

"Spoilsport." Dean scanned the surrounding area, his eyes narrowing. "There, either someone has a fog machine or our friendly neighborhood ghosts are paying us a visit."

"Who you gonna call..." Sam sniggered but nonetheless released the safety on his gun and moved slightly so that the space between them was almost infinitesimal in order prevent them from being separated in a fight.

"C’mon, let’s get this over with and blow this burg. Here ghostie, ghostie, ghostie, come out and play with us," Sam sing-songed.

A cold wind rose up around them, increasing in intensity as the fog thickened. "I hate not having a target," Dean grumbled.

"Well, all the accounts I read said that they materialized sooner or later. Maybe this is just their warm up. First they get their victims going with cheesy scare tactics that work on the uninformed and then pop a face out, make the target wet themselves and sit back and watch ‘em run," Sam hypothesized. "Damn, I really should have put a sweatshirt on;, it’s getting fucking cold, dude."

"Poor baby," Dean snorted before jumping back, taking Sam with him as a face materialized in front of his own. "Oh man, I think it kissed me," he moaned as he brought up his shotgun and blasted a spray of rock-salt in the thing’s direction.

"Make sure you gargle with Listerine before you kiss me again," Sam grunted turning abruptly when he felt a cold draft along the back of his neck only to come face to face with a second ghost. "Dude get off me!" Sam backpedaled quickly, his back slamming into Dean’s, as he moved to avoid grasping ethereal hands.

"Gross. That was just so uncool," he snarled bringing up his own shotgun and letting off a second blast of halite. "Now I’m gonna have to gargle."

"Make sure you floss like a good little boy." Dean’s eyes narrowed as he tracked the fleeing trails of fog. "Let’s see where these little shits are heading."

"I got salt, you got your lighter?" Sam asked, receiving a nod from Dean as the older Winchester took off at a light jog, Sam easily keeping pace with his longer legs. "Hopefully these suckers have bones to salt and burn otherwise I’ll have to break out the Latin. Crap I just hope I don’t mix up the exorcism rituals with my Latin course."

Dean snorted from where he was trotting ahead of Sam. "You telling me you lugged those books out here? School’s over, Sammy, you can lay off the books now."

"Yeah right," Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. "Like Dad’ll let me. He’s always shoving another book on demonology or exorcism or something else supernatural in my hands and expecting me to memorize the important parts without telling me what they are," the younger man growled.

"No idea. What, you worried about us ending up in some version of that stupid movie about that fake witch?"

"No, idiot, I’m worried about us getting lost and you becoming some backwoods bears bitch," Sam deadpanned. "Shuddup and follow the ‘floaters’ will ya?"

Dean chuckled at the comment as he sped up, following the mist through the woods until they ended up in a small open area near a stream. The mists coalesced around two trees and Dean frowned, staring at them, until he took a step closer and realized what he was seeing hanging from a branch. "Oh shit."

"Okay, now that’s disgusting," Sam’s face scrunched up in disgust. "I guess Billy Ray and Jim Bob found the ghosts before we did. I never found anything in what little research I could dig up about the ghosts doing that to... Wait, wait, wait," Sam muttered, snapping his fingers. "There was something. Not about the ghosts but.... A couple of locals going missing and a bunch of, well, those types bragging about taking care of some ‘unnatural behavior’ in these parts. And those guys do seem to be missing... erm... certain parts of their anatomy. You think maybe this was some sort of retribution thing?"

"So are you saying you think these guys are Billy Ray and Jim Bob or some other poor SOB’s who didn’t hide who they were well enough?"

"I’m saying that there are two dead guys in the tree, they’re missing their family jewels and their faces are ripped off. How the hell am I supposed to know who they are? What am I, the amazing Kreskin?"

"Idiot," Dean muttered as he stalked forward toward the tree, gagging at the stench coming from the two bodies and forcing himself not to flinch when the mists drew closer. "I’d say these two guys have been up here a lot longer than a few hours," he commented, still trying to breathe through his mouth. "More like months. How long did you say those other two have been missing?"

"I didn’t," Sam murmured, his mind quickly racing over the facts he’d absorbed the previous day. "There were a couple of friends who disappeared about six months ago, but if these are our ghosts they’re damned strong for only being six months dead. Must have taken them one helluva long time to die in order to build up that much anger to manifest the way they do. Then again..." Sam trailed off, using the sleeve of his Henley to cover his mouth and nose as he looked up at the bodies in revulsion.

"Someone did this to me, I’d be pissed," Dean nodded. "Someone did it to you and I’d be doubly pissed." There was a glint of danger in his eyes as he said the last. "So yeah, I can see it."

Sam reached up with his free hand to squeeze Dean’s shoulder reassuringly and he leaned forward to brush his lips quickly against the back of his brother’s neck. "Not gonna happen, Dean, so stop thinking about that sort of shit," he murmured before stepping back and away, hoping that the idiots from the next campsite weren’t around to cause problem.

"I agree with you I can see the reason for the rage but, dude, we gotta burn ‘em. I’m voting we set the tree on fire, or take down the branch they’re on somehow. I so don’t wanna be touching them."

"I don’t believe I’m saying this, but we should get the cops. So far these ghosts haven’t hurt anyone, and burning their bodies - man it just seems like it’s denying them justice."

"What about their spirits, Dean? Far be it from me to ever agree with Dad but... if we don’t salt and burn them what’s to say they won’t keep getting stronger and stronger until they do hurt someone. And let’s not forget our friendly neighbors who are out here hunting ghosts too. They go shooting off their guns they’re likely to piss the ghosts off even more," Sam reasoned. "I just don’t know."

"Me either, but I think it sucks that some yahoos are gonna get off with killing these guys if we do what we should."

"This sucks. I mean what the hell did these guys do to piss their killers off? They were friends, roommates... oooohkay. Took a minute, sorry, they were maybe more than friends and got offed because of their unnatural behavior. Yeah, they deserve justice but I don’t know how we can give it to ‘em, Dean," Sam murmured, looking up at the poor bastards strung up in the tree in front of them.

"Oooh, whee, look what you boys found!" The one Sam had dubbed Billy Ray whistled as he sauntered into the clearing. "A couple of queers in a fag tree. Looks like someone got ‘em good."

"What do you mean a couple of queers?" Sam asked mildly even though inside he was raging.

"Hell, this ain’t the first time we’ve seen this sorta thing, may have even been invited to help out with it, if you know what I mean. Got what they deserved for corrupting others and doin’ unnatural things like that. If God wanted queers he wouldn’t have made women and that’s the truth!"

Sam bit back a snarl, his free hand curling into a fist so tight that his blunt nails cut into the palm of his hand. The other itched to pull the trigger so bad he had to let out a gusty breath release some of the rage. Looking over at Dean, he could see that his brother’s face was stony and there was something in Dean’s eyes that sent a shiver chasing down Sam’s spine. This whole situation was going to hell fast.

Suddenly in the air turned frigid and the woods around them lit up with an eerie green light. The woods went dead silent and then an eerie thrumming noise started up, low level at first, like Sam was standing out outside of the Impala listening to Dean crank the bass while all the windows were rolled up, and continued to increase in strength.

Billy Ray’s side-kick came crashing through the trees, looking like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were on his ass and the moment he stepped into the clearing the sound level increased even more until all Sam could hear were constant drum beats making him feel his teeth vibrating in his head. Moving quickly he put his back to Dean’s, scanning the woods intently. This was seriously, totally fucked.

"Stay still, Sammy," Dean rasped, his knuckles white on his shotgun.

"Dean, man, are we just gonna let em?" Sam trailed off. Truth was the bastards probably deserved it just based on what the first bigot had spouted off but Sam had a hard time justifying just standing there watching without helping.

"You heard what that fucker said, Sammy. It sounds like there were the ones who tortured and killed those poor guys, and all because they loved each other. I think its justice."

Sam swallowed hard. The one enveloped in the mist started screaming while the other tried desperately to bolt from the clearing only to be thrown back by unseen forces. "Dean," Sam’s throat was tinder dry and he could feel himself trembling. He’d gone toe to toe with all sorts of bad ass demons and evil things but he couldn’t stand the thought of watching two men, humans die, even if what they did made them just as much a monster as the creatures they hunted.

"So torturing these two is gonna make it right?" Sam finally asked, his inherent respect for the law forcing him to speak. "Doesn’t this just make them as bad as the men who killed them if they do that? I’m not arguing that the bastards deserve to be punished, they do, but I... God, I can’t watch this, I can’t! It’s just as bad as pulling the trigger myself. This is being an accessory to murder, Dean!"

"And they killed these guys, Sam!" Dean growled back, looking over his shoulder to glare at Sam. "Just who is the victim here?"

"We don’t know they killed these guys we just know... fuck all!" Sam retorted. "You don’t think I don’t want them to get what they deserve for what they’ve done, what they’ve said? Christ, it could just as easily have been us, Dean, and a whole lot worse because we share blood on top of the fact that we’re lovers but..." Sam’s words were cut off when Billy Ray’s shrieks were joined by his hunting buddy’s and the sounds tore through the night then were abruptly silenced. "Jesus," Sam’s eyes were drawn to the dissipating fog where he began to make out two still figures on the ground. "Does this mean we’re next?"

"No idea." Dean raised the shotgun as the mists whirled around them, moving to push Sam behind him and protect him, wondering if he had just made a mistake that was going to cost both of them their lives. An unnatural chill made his bones ache as the two ghosts rushed toward them both only to swerve at the last moment and circle back to the bodies hanging from the tree, diving around them in an ever-tightening spiral before vanishing, leaving the clearing still and silent.

"What the fuck?" Sam stepped out from behind Dean, torn between equal parts confusion and the sudden urge to beat his brother senseless for pulling that protective shit on him yet again. "Okay, for the record, I am so not a damsel in distress and the next time you decide to play knight in shining armor I’m gonna have to kick your ass," he muttered without heat as he moved past Dean and cautiously approached the tree.

"They could have wasted us and they just... you think maybe they want us to finish it, burn their bones so they can be released?"

"You think they have family that’s looking for them?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam. "I’d say, yeah, burn ‘em, other than that."

"I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check and see if they have IDs. What with," Sam swallowed hard and nodded towards the fresh corpses, "them here now it could always be pinned on them, the burning I mean. We can tell the ranger we stumbled across this hiking or something and they’d be found at least," he finished. It was the best he could come up with.

"Besides," Sam continued after a moment, "If they’re burnt then their families won’t have to know what state they’re in, what was done to ‘em. God, I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if I found out you’d been tortured to death."

Dean nodded, his features tight as he studied the bodies hanging from the tree and the others on the ground. "I’ll go check them, you stay here and cover me," he ordered, swallowing hard as he started toward the mutilated bodies.

"Dean, be fucking careful, okay?" Sam ordered as he moved a few steps closer. "And don’t do anything stupid like get yourself possessed so I have to shoot your ass with rock salt."

"Dude, don’t be so fucking positive," Dean growled as he started toward the bodies, breathing through his mouth so that he didn’t gag as he got closer to them. Grimacing, he patted down first one body, then the other, finding wallets in both their pants pockets.

"Got ‘em," he called, turning back to Sam and raising the leather billfolds in his hand.

"Feel like cutting them down while you’re up there? It’ll make salting and torching them easier," Sam replied, pulling out the baggies of salt he’d shoved in the pockets of his jeans, hoping he’d brought enough. "Hey, you still got that can of lighter fluid in your jacket? Considering the state of them it should be enough accelerant to start everything burning."

"Yeah, I got ‘em." Dean’s tone was tight as he turned back to the bodies, pulling out his knife to cut them down, laying them on the ground as gently as possible, all the while waiting for the ghosts to return and go after him.

"Poor bastards, and all because they may have been in love with each other. Fuck. I think I’ll take demons and spirits any day of the week, they at least have reasons for being the way they are. Killing a person because they don’t conform with the mainstream way of doing things..." Sam shook his head as he began to salt the bodies, all the while keeping a close eye out for returning spirits. "Christ, Dean, what would they do to us if anyone ever found out?"

Dean looked up at him, his eyebrows raised. "I think it would probably make what they did to these poor slobs look like a picnic - not that I’d let anyone hurt you Sammy. They’d be in the ground before that happened." He looked down at the bodies and muttered a prayer over them as he poured the lighter fluid over them. "I hope the two of you are together wherever you are."

"Dean," Sam murmured, moving to stand behind his brother and wrapping his arms tight around the other man’s chest. "That was... real nice, man," he finished, pressing his lips into the exposed skin of Dean’s neck. "They were together here so I’d like to think they’re together wherever else they ended up after this life. Hopefully it’s a better place than here was."

Resting his chin on his brother’s shoulder, Sam watched the flames flicker and die, grateful to be able to just hold on and be with Dean. "Don’t think that I’m being all girly when I say this but... I love you dude. Just wanted to make sure you knew it."

"You’re such a wuss," Dean muttered though he reached up and covered Sam’s hand with his own, squeezing his fingers tightly and dropping his attitude for a moment. "I’ve always got your back, Sammy; whenever, wherever you need me, I’ll be there."

"It’s always been the one thing I’ve been able to count on my entire life," Sam replied, brushing his lips against Dean’s collarbone.

They watched as the flames burned lower and lower and then finally went out. When the ashes were cold and there was no chance of a flare up Sam unwrapped himself from around Dean, stretched hard enough to hear the vertebrae in his back pop and tugged on one of Dean’s belt loops playfully. "C’mon, bro, let’s go tip off the local authorities and then blow this burg. I, for one, want to be far away when they discover the scene, preferably in a motel in bed with you."

"First thing I plan on doing is taking a long hot shower," Dean announced as they pulled up outside their room at a motel half a days’ drive from the no-longer-haunted campground. "I’m glad they’re at rest, but I do not appreciate smelling like them, you know?" he asked, canting a quick glance over at Sam.

Sam stifled the snicker that threatened to erupt, his eyes dancing with humor nonetheless. "How about I go check us in then, wouldn’t want you to make the desk clerk pass out before we can get a room," he replied, as straight faced as he could manage.

"Shut up, punk, or I won’t invite you in the shower with me," Dean grumbled, shoving Sam as he got out of the car.

"Yes you will, you need me to wash your back," Sam short back as he headed towards the office to get them a room. "Be nice or I won’t blow you."

"Yeah, yeah, like I believe that one," Dean smirked as he got out of the car, leaning against the hood and waiting for Sam to return.

Sam sauntered out of the office less than five minutes later, a smug grin on his face. Walking over to the Impala, he sat down next to Dean and dangled the key between two fingers just out of Dean’s reach. "So, I’m starving, wanna go get something to eat before we settle in for the night?" he asked, all innocence and light. "We could go to that tex-mex place we passed on the way into town. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my lips around an overstuffed beef burrito."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "I spend how many years teaching you the fine art of seduction and this is the line you come up with?"

"Oh yeah, I remember your so-called lessons. What was the one you said worked like a charm each and every time? Let’s see, it went something like ‘you, me, naked, now’. A real charming pickup line that," Sam snorted, knocking shoulders with Dean before getting up off the hood of the car. "Dude, you reek, c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up already."

Dean reached out and plucked the keys from Sam’s finger as he straightened up. "Always worked on you," he shot back before opening the door and looking back over his shoulder. "Grab the gear, will you?"

Sam rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to try and come up with a snappy comeback. He’d get his revenge another way. With an evil grin the younger Winchester locked the car and popped the trunk, grabbing their duffle bags and heading into the room.

The shower was already running in the short time it took Sam to grab the gear and get into the room. Dropping the bags on the scarred dresser that had seen far better days Sam quickly laid down the salt lines by the window and door, turned the lock, threw Dean’s keys on the nightstand next to his cell phone and began to strip as he walked to the bathroom. He was naked before he hit the door.

Pulling back the curtain, Sam stepped under the spray and immediately dropped to his knees. Not even giving Dean a chance to make a snarky remark, he inhaled the older man’s cock all the way to the root as he cupped Dean’s ass with his hands to hold him still.

"Oh fuck," Dean breathed, his hands moving to cradle Sam’s head as he hardened, his cock growing as he slid in and out of the warm, wet haven of Sam’s mouth.

Sam chuckled around Dean and then drew back and off of the older man. "That’s the plan, yes, but I kinda needed you a little harder than you were. Guess you really are past your sexual peak, aren’t you?" he teased, looking up at Dean through water drenched lashes.

In answer, Dean pulled Sam to his feet and pushed him against the wall, devouring his mouth as he pressed against Sam, their bodies slipping and sliding together, the friction of their skin lessened by the water sheeting down over them.

Wrapping his hands around Dean’s shoulders Sam tugged him closer and opened his mouth wider, letting Dean lay claim to him. Sam spread his feet wider to accommodate for the height difference and allow their cocks to slide against one another wetly. When the urge to breathe became too great, Sam tore his mouth away and then gently but firmly maneuvered them around so that Dean was pressed against the cold tile instead of him. With a groan of regret Sam stepped back and away. "Clean up first, then we can get on with enjoying a dirty fuck on the bed where we won’t crack our heads open if we slip."

"Tease," Dean growled without heat, trailing a hand down Sam’s chest before reaching for the soap again and lathering himself up, lewdly stroking his erection with his lather-slick hand and smiling slightly as Sam watched him.

"Hell yeah," Sam groaned, not sure if he was agreeing with Dean’s estimation or his actions. Picking up the soap Sam lathered his own hands and then began to scrub Dean’s chest for him, taking his time to tease each nipple into a hard peak. Letting his hands roam over smooth, taut skin Sam almost zoned out on the feel of Dean alone, the other man’s groans, growls and hot-dirty whispers just goading him on.

Moving behind Dean, Sam began working on his back and glutes, bending forward slightly to mouth Dean’s ear. "Want you so bad, want you to fuck me hard. Slam me through the mattress. Want to feel you for a week every time I sit down."

Dean groaned in reply, spinning around to devour Sam’s mouth again. "Clean enough," he growled. "Bed. Now." That said, he turned off the water and pushed a dripping Sam out of the shower, not bothering to dry either of them off as he herded the younger man into the other room, toppling him to the bed and pouncing on him. "Going to lick you dry, Sammy," Dean rasped before swiping his tongue over Sam’s neck.

Sam laughed quietly and tilted his head away from Dean, exposing his neck even more. "God, you’re so fucking easy," he teased. "Good thing I like you easy." Wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, Sam spread his legs wide, pulling them up so that Dean fell into the cradle of his thighs. "However, as interesting as being licked dry sounds, you tomcat, how about you just fuck me instead?"

Dean pushed up onto his elbows to stare down at Sam, his eyes a dark forest green in the harsh light of the bedside lamp. "I can do that," he rasped, reaching for the lube as he slid backward to kneel between Sam’s legs, all pretense of joking and teasing gone. Running a hand down Sam’s leg, Dean shuddered, his thumb caressing the thin skin of his inner thigh.

"Dean, Jesus," Sam breathed, his thighs spreading wider onto the bed leaving him splayed open. A shudder raced down his body that had nothing to do with the cool air from the room on damp skin and everything to do with the fire burning in Dean’s eyes. Reaching above his head Sam grasped the headboard of the bed and offered himself up for the taking. "Just, fuck, I can’t wait, Dean, just you. I don’t want your fingers, I just want you."

"Oh, no, Sammy," Dean whispered, continuing the slow torture of his light touch. "Normally you have me jumping to your tune, but I’m not going to hurt you. Never going to hurt you." As he spoke, he stroked both hands over Sam’s groin, his fingers nearing, but never touching his straining cock.

"Dude, you’re such a girl," Sam teased breathlessly but silently admitted to himself that this was the side of Dean he loved most, the one that took care of him and treated him like he was everything. "God, you’re trying to drive me nuts, aren’t you? Teasing me and playin’ me until I go freakin’ insane. Don’t think I don’t, oh Christ do that again, don’t know what you’re doin’."

"Not pissing me off into speeding up this time, Sammy," Dean crooned, leaning in to press a kiss against Sam’s navel, feeling the muscles twitch under his lips.

"Fuck," Sam whined as he thrust upwards, trying to increase the friction on his aching erection. "So does that mean I can piss you off next time?" When Dean neatly pulled back to prevent any sort of friction, Sam growled and wrapped his hands around Dean’s hips, pulling him down hard onto Sam’s desperate body.

Dean grinned, though his eyes were still dark and hungry as he stared down at Sam. "You can try," he rasped, using the edge of his teeth on Sam’s stomach.

Moaning, Sam shivered and danced under Dean’s lips and teeth. "So good," he whispered, not even realizing he’d spoken out loud. His hands came up to card through Dean’s baby soft hair and hold on tight as Dean moved and shifted his assault on Sam’s body. "Please, Dean, I’m beggin’ here! Do something, anything, but Jesus wept let me come!"

"When I’m ready, Sammy," Dean murmured, slicking up a finger and pressing it into Sam’s ass while he continued to worry Sam’s chest.

"And you called me a cocktease, you fucking take the cake, Dean," Sam snarled and tried to slam his hips downwards in order to get some sort of friction going, anything to ease the gnawing ache of lust.

Dean’s grin was tight as he pressed his finger deeper, rubbing it against Sam’s prostate. "Damn right, I do."

The sound that was ripped from Sam’s throat was low, hungry and completely non-verbal as his hips bucked and his eyes rolled back in his head. One hand wrapped around his cock in reflex and began to pump. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he begged as he twisted and thrashed on the bed trying to get closer.

"Let go of your cock, Sammy," Dean growled, pulling up and away from the other man and stroking lube onto his erection. "Let go or I’m not going to touch you again."

"Who died and fucking made you king of me?" Sam snarled but none the less let go as ordered, biting down hard on his lower lip to stop the whimper of need from breaking free. "I so hate you right now. Seriously."

"Boo fucking who." Dean continued to stroke himself, his eyes going half closed as he teased his cock and balls.

"Bitch," Sam growled as he watched Dean, eyes devouring that hard, smooth, toned body which Sam knew as well as his own. "You keep this up and I’m gonna go out and find someone else who can give me what I want. A good hard fuck." There was no way in hell he’d do it, no way he’d let anyone but Dean touch him that way without becoming seriously and permanently impaired so it was just another way to goad Dean on and they both knew it.

Dean chuckled and ran one slick finger over Sam’s cock. "Slut," he breathed before hiking Sam’s legs over his shoulders and pressing the head of his shaft against Sam’s ass, teasing them both with a light pressure and waiting for Sam’s oncoming protest before shoving inside, silencing him.

"Oh thank you, God," Sam whimpered as Dean came to rest completely inside of him. There was a slight burn and ache as he was stretched wider than the single finger Dean had inserted earlier but it was just what Sam wanted. Tugging at Dean’s ears, Sam lifted up as Dean let himself be pulled down and their lips met and devoured each other in the middle. "And no, I don’t mean you, you may be good, but you’re not a deity no matter what your ego tells you," Sam teased when they finally separated for breath.

"So you say," Dean smirked as he began to move, starting a slow rhythm of thrust and retreat that Sam met fully, the hot brand of his cock burning between them when they came together.

"God, you, fuck, ego, more, much?" Sam managed to get out in a garbled mess of words. The truth was he was much more interested in feeling every ridge, ripple and every flared inch of Dean’s cock as it stroked in and out of him. Sam began to stuff his fist in his mouth only to remember that he didn’t have to muffle his moans and pleas because they were in a motel room and not at home with Dad in the next room. "Yes, so fucking good, God, Dean!"

Dean gave up on trying to talk and ravaged Sam’s mouth again as they slammed together, sweat slicking their movements and their gasps and moans filling the air around them.

Wrapping his legs high around Dean’s waist, Sam tangled his fingers in the older man’s hair and held on as tight as he could. His tongue thrust and dueled with Dean’s and he could feel their combined sweat make the slide of bodies just that much slicker and easier.

Trapped between them, Sam’s erection was rock hard and leaking a constant stream of pre-come. Each time Dean thrust inside and ground himself into Sam, their bellies pressed and rubbed adding a shivery sweet friction that was just enough to drive Sam insane for more but not enough to satisfy. One hand finally let go of Dean’s hair and wormed itself in between their undulating bodies to wrap around his sorely tormented cock and began to provide just the right amount of friction and rigidity to make Sam’s breath hitch and his legs to dig into Dean’s spine just that much more.

"That’s it, Sammy," Dean gasped, pulling back enough to stare down at the younger man’s straining body before diving in to kiss him again, at the same time, wrapping a hand around Sam’s and urging him on.

"Dean, oh fuck, Dean!" Sam whimpered into the older man’s mouth as Dean practically devoured him. The cheap motel bed shook and squeaked and the headboard beat a staccato rhythm against the paper-thin walls loud enough to wake the dead if they were listening. Sam moaned and writhed underneath Dean’s assault. He was surrounded and filled by his brother and it triggered scent memories that flooded Sam’s brain: the first time they’d kissed, the way Dean’s skin tasted after a long hot day in the sun, the feel of those calluses sliding over his skin, exploring him, the first time a finger penetrated his ass, the first time Dean’s dick slid inside and bound Sam to Dean in a way that not even time or distance could erase.

Salt and skin and this underlying sweetness that was simply ‘Dean’ exploded on his taste buds as their tongues thrust and dueled. A hand made rough by their work and the constant gripping of weapons squeezed down hard over his own and pretty much blew the top off of Sam’s head. Tearing his mouth away, he let out a roar and slammed his head back into the pillow, driving the bed so hard against the wall that it left a dent. His body spasmed, clamping down on Dean’s cock, legs squeezing tight and left hand leaving finger-shaped bruises in almost perfect flesh as Sam came hard enough to see fireworks go off behind tightly shut eyes while all the while he chanted Dean’s name over and over like a benediction, or perhaps a curse.

Dean’s driving pace faltered as Sam went wild under him, squeezing him with ass, arms and legs as if trying to pull him deeper inside and make him a permanent part of they younger man. He groaned out Sam’s name and thrust harder, faster, driving into Sam’s body and feeling the warmth of his come spreading between them.

"God, Sammy," he gasped, staring into those warm, passion-dazed eyes, and feeling something within himself break just as wave of need rushed through him. He shouted hoarsely, his whole body tightening, as he came, sending gout after gout of his seed into the other man’s ass.

"Finally he gets it right," Sam mumbled, his voice sated and teasing. "Yes, Dean, I am the god of the family, not you." Wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist Sam watched as Dean came apart, coming inside him, flooding Sam with his heat. Tugging at Dean’s head, Sam pulled them together, nibbling on Dean’s lower lip and licking it before aligning their mouths in a lazy kiss. He felt Dean shudder and shake around and in him, felt as Dean slowly went from being rigid with extreme pleasure to soft and pliant, collapsing down onto him.

As much as he loved the feeling of being buried balls deep inside of Dean or having Dean pile driving into him, it was these times that Sam cherished the most, when all the layers were peeled away and he got to see the core of Dean, the man he’d spent his whole life adoring. All the masks, the illusions were stripped away when Dean was coming down off of his post-orgasmic high. Gone was the macho posturing and bad-ass bad boy attitude. Gone too was all the smooth charm and seductive smiles. This was just Dean, his Dean and it was all Sam ever wanted or needed.

Slowly their heartbeats returned to normal, their pulses no longer thundered sending blood rushing through their bodies and making the sound of ocean waves crash against their ears. Their skin cooled and the lethargy began to creep in. Sam eventually registered the weight of Dean over and on him and reluctantly pulled back from their mutual feasting on each others mouth. He watched as impossibly long lashes flicked up to reveal that Dean’s dark green eyes. They were still blown with pleasure, all pupil with just a thin ring of green surrounding the darkness. "Hey," Sam whispered as he saw just when the hamster wheel that was Dean’s brain began to turn again. Running a thumb across Dean’s swollen lips, Sam smiled up at the other man. "You back with me now?"

"Shut up," Dean muttered against Sam’s throat. "You were pretty out of it as well."

Sam laughed and petted Dean from neck to ass and back. "Hey, you rock my world, stud," he snickered. "Who am I to deny it?"

"Knew you were the smart one," Dean muttered without moving.

"And I knew you were a pain in my ass, get off me man, you weigh a ton!" Sam retorted, shoving at Dean’s shoulder until he rolled off to the side and stood and disappeared into the bathroom to clean the come off of his chest. When he came back in Sam crawled back into bed and wrapped himself around Dean with a content sigh. "So, you wanna stay here for a couple of days or do you wanna find a campground between here and Pastor Jim’s? We’ve got a few days before we need to be home," Sam murmured. And I have a few days to figure out how to tell Dean about Stanford, Sam thought to himself with a morose sigh. He had a gut feeling that that particular conversation would go over like a lead balloon.

"What part of no more campgrounds do you not understand?" Dean yawned, sitting up and shoving a pillow behind his back as he curved an arm around Sam’s body, his fingers idly stroking Sam’s warm skin. "We can head out tomorrow, find a place with a jacuzzi and magic fingers on the bed, and we’ll be set."

"Mmm," Sam purred, arching slightly into Dean’s fingers. "A real shower with real water pressure and lots and lots of hot water followed by a long hot soak. That sounds like my idea of heaven. Good thing Dad never actually sees the credit card statements so he won’t call us on it," Sam chuckled.

"Although we will have to stay a couple nights with Pastor Jim or he might get suspicious. Guess that means we’ll be back to separate beds. It takes me freaking forever to get used to sleeping without you after we have a week like this," Sam sighed. "Maybe we’ll be lucky and Dad will be heading out for a hunt or something." And it would give Sam more time to hoard every precious memory for those long nights when he was away at school, although he was hoping Dean would come visit often and he’d be home on long weekends and holidays to help hunt, maybe even more often depending on what his class schedule was like.

"At least one," Dean nodded before yawning. "We can tell Dad it took us a few days to settle this one, that’ll cover the extra time."

"Hey whaddaya know, you do have a brain underneath all that hair product after all," Sam teased as he snuggled into Dean’s arms. "Actually, I always knew you were smart, after all you taught me everything I know about almost everything."

"Exactly." Dean settled them both more comfortably in the bed and reached over to turn out the light before returning to stroking Sam’s back. "And ya never know, maybe after a few years you’ll be able to teach me something. Now go to sleep, you little punk."

"So, how many rakashas do you think make up a nest?" Sam asked as he slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I just hope Dad gives us enough time to do laundry and get something to eat before he makes us take off again. Pastor Jim has great stories and is totally cool for a preacher, but the man can’t cook to save his life. That meatloaf was just wrong!"

"Seriously, dude," Dean laughed. "Raisins and carrots; that’s disgusting." He grabbed his own gear and grinned at Sam over the Impala’s roof before they started for the front door - where their father was standing, waiting. "Hey Dad," he called. "Get word on the rakashas?"

Their father ignored Dean’s question, his steely gaze focused solely on Sam. "Samuel Winchester get your ass in the house now!" John ordered, his voice icy cold and deadly.

Sam was about to make a retort when he saw the sheaf of papers in his father’s hand. Fuck. Just... fuck! Sam had wanted to talk to Dean first, hadn’t wanted him to find out this way but... "I was going to tell you. I just couldn’t figure out how. I thought I’d have more time before Dad found out and I wanted us to have some time to ourselves before things blew up. You have to believe me, Dean!" Sam whispered passionately. "I just... I didn’t know how and I..."

"NOW Sam!"

"What’s going on, Dad?" Dean asked, Sam’s low-voiced plea having caused a sick ball of worry to grow in the pit of his stomach. "Get billed for those 1-900 numbers Sammy likes calling?"

"What is the meaning of this?" John snarled, slamming the papers against the wall the moment they were in the house. "What the hell are you thinking, Sam?"

"That maybe I wanted something more than the existence that you shoved down my throat without so much as asking me what I wanted?" Sam exploded. "That maybe I wanted to be something more, have a normal life for once? Or how about that maybe I wanted to see if I was smart enough and good enough to make it into one of the most prestigious schools in the country? Well I am and I do want more with my life and I don’t want to do this forever. I’m not like you, Dad. Why can’t you just get that?"

Dean’s eyes widened at the revelation and he opened his mouth, only to be cut off by his father’s escalating tirade. "What I can’t get is why my son chooses to turn his back on his family and chooses frat parties over finding his mother’s killer!"

Sam turned to look at Dean imploringly, hoping his eyes were speaking the words he couldn’t voice while their father was in the room. "It was never about choosing that over you, it was about choosing something for me. I love you guys, you’re all I have, you’re everything but... I just need to be more than a hunter for the rest of my life."

"Dad, isn’t there room for him to be both?" Dean cut in, trying to bridge the chasm he could see forming between his father and brother, one that left him flailing in the middle.

"No." John said flatly. "You can’t walk away from this, Sam, not and expect to come back again."

"You’d do that? You’d kick me out because I want to make something of my life? How fucked up is that? You’d be fine with me being a scam artist or a thief or a con man but if I actually try and further my education I get told never to come home? Do you realize how screwed up that is?"

John’s eyes narrowed and he stared at his younger son, ignoring Dean’s protests. "You went behind my back, Sam, that tells me you knew exactly what my reaction was going to be. Apparently you’re all grown up now so be a man and make your decision."

"Dad! Don’t do this!" Dean cried.

"Shut up, Dean!"

"Don’t talk to him like that, he’s done everything you’ve ever asked of him at the cost of his own future and his own dreams. He doesn’t deserve it and you damn well know it!" Sam snarled at his father. "You really don’t give a shit about either of us, do you? We’re your flesh and blood, your family and all you care about is this holy crusade and to hell with the consequences. It doesn’t matter how many times we get hurt or end up in hospital or even get arrested for you, it’s all about the fucking quest and everything else be damned. Fine, you want me to be a man? Screw you, John, the only family I’ve ever had has been Dean and he’s all I’ll ever want or need. You... screw you!" With that Sam turned and stormed out of the house with one last, desperate look at his brother.

"Sam!" John roared over the slamming of the front door. "Don’t you dare go after him," he snarled to Dean when he started for the door.

"Or what, Dad, you’ll disown me too?" Dean shot back. "God, he’s your son!"

"Not any more he isn’t," John replied angrily, heading through the house to slam out the back door.

For a moment, Dean looked on the verge of tears, but he collected himself with a sharp shake and raced around the house, gathering up Sam’s belongings as well as few personal mementos, stuffing them all into a large duffle bag, unable to believe this was happening. He dragged the bag outside, picking up the one that held Sam’s clothes from the trip as well, and threw them both into the Impala’s back seat.

After returning inside again to grab a few more things, Dean half-ran outside again, hitting the speed dial on his phone. "Where are you?"

Sam choked back the urge to sniffle like a dork. Bad enough he was fucking crying, he didn’t need Dean to know. "At the park down the street. Dean... God, I never thought he’d throw me out for just wanting to go to college. I just wanted... I don’t know, to be normal for once? How fucked up is that?"

"Its okay, Sammy, we’ll work this out." Dean forced his voice to stay steady as he climbed into the car and tore out of the driveway, heading for the park. "Dad’ll come around, it was just a shock for him, that’s all."

"No he won’t and to be honest, I don’t really care. I just... I don’t want to lose you. I meant what I said, Dean, you are my family, the only family I’ll ever need," Sam whispered harshly. "I can’t lose you too."

"You won’t, I’ll always be here for you, Sammy," Dean promised, screeching into the parking lot, leaving the Impala parked slantwise across three spots and racing to the bench where Sam sat, looking lost and forlorn. Tossing the phone aside as useless, he sat next to the younger man and pulled him into a hug. "You really want to do this, so do it."

"Come with me? I don’t think I can do this without you, Dean," Sam mumbled, pressing his lips against his brother’s neck.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice cracking as he rubbed Sam’s back. "You said it yourself, you want a normal life; that’s not me, that’s not us."

"But I..." Sam sighed. "You’ll come and visit me? Call me? I just love you so freakin’ much and Paolo Alto is in California for fuck’s sake."

"California?" Dean asked before recovering quickly and flashing a grin. "Dude, you’re going to be a valley boy."

"Screw that, I plan on being a beach bum, lying in the sand and working on my tan... gotta make sure I don’t get any tan lines," Sam chuckled. "You’ll need to come and check ‘em out, maybe oil me up."

"Sounds good to me, but you forget I know you, baby bro; you’re going to spend your life in the library studying and come out of that place with five degrees." Dean was silent for a moment before continuing. "So, just what are you going there for anyway?"

"I kinda figured it might be a good idea to do something that will benefit your sorry ass. Maybe I’ll be a doctor or something. Or how about I become a professor of the occult? I don’t know yet beyond the fact that I want to make a difference, make things better for you, for us."

"You’ll do whatever you set your mind to, Sammy; if I know anything, it’s that you’re stubborn." Dean gave a melancholy smile as he rested his chin against Sam’s temple. "That’s why I’m not even trying to talk you into coming home."

"I just wish I had more time to be with you. I though I’d have the rest of the summer or at least a few more weeks. I don’t want to say goodbye yet," Sam murmured, holding on to Dean as tightly as he could. "I just want more time."

"We had last week," Dean offered, knowing it wasn’t enough, that it would never be enough. "Any more and you’d be chafed." He chuckled quietly at this.

"I would have had you ride me so hard that I could feel it all the way to California if I’d known."

Dean nodded at that and was silent for a while, watching the kids running around the playground; kids, God-willing, that would never go through what they had been through. "So, you heading out then?"

"I just... not yet. Just a few more minutes, hours, days... Stanford’s not going anywhere," Sam whispered, pressing his lips against Dean’s Adam’s apple and sucking on it lightly. "I wish I could inhale you, burn you into my skin."

"You saying I’m forgettable?" Dean asked, forcing a jovial note into his tone.

"Never. I just want you in my skin forever. Yeah, yeah I know, I’m being a girl but dammit, but I still want you a permanent part of me," Sam complained. "But I guess I’d better go before Dad comes looking for you. I don’t want you to get into any trouble over me and God knows he’s pissed enough already."

"Like I give a fuck," Dean snorted, even though they both knew it was a lie. "I brought your stuff," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Think I can bum a ride to the bus station?" Sam whispered, trying to hold on to every last second with Dean he could. "And you’ll come to Stanford to see me, right? Dad can’t keep track of you 24-7. You need to drag my ass out of the library every now and again or I’ll forget what sex is."

"Can’t have that," Dean chuckled, though his voice was a little rough. "I’ll get out there every chance I get and remind you what a stud I am; not that you’d ever forget of course." He closed his eyes and forced himself not to pull Sam into a tight hug for fear that he would never let go.

Normal, Sam wanted normal, and if there was one thing their relationship was, that wasn’t it. It was going to kill him, but he’d let Sam go, give him what he wanted; a real life, a good life, far from the insanity that made up Dean’s existence.

"And yeah, I can get you to the bus station as long as you promise not to sniffle all over the seats."

"Shuddup," Sam chuckled brokenly, shoving against Dean as he finally let go and moved away. "Freak."

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he stood and glanced back at his brother. "I’d say the phrase ‘takes one to know one’ fits well here, Sammy boy."

"Yeah, but I’m your freak and I always will be," Sam promised as he walked over to the Impala for what could possibly be the last time in a very long time. He slid a hand over the jet-black hood lovingly. He’d actually miss the car, it was such a part of who Dean was it was almost a part of his personality.

"Take care of him for me, will you girl?" Sam whispered as he climbed into the passenger seat, knowing he was being stupid for talking to a car but it still made him smile. "Someone has to since I won’t be here to do it anymore."

"Talking to yourself again, Sammy?" Dean asked as he climbed in and started the engine. "Better be careful or they’ll send you away for that."

"Just saying goodbye is all," Sam muttered, ducking his head as a pink tinge spread across his cheekbones. "I’m gonna miss riding shotgun in her."

Dean smiled a bit at that and reached over to pat the younger man’s thigh. "Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone else warm the seat there."

"Better not," Sam groused. "I just got her broken in properly, kinda like I’ve finally managed to break you in too."

"Are you calling me old and comfortable?"

"Hey, whatever fits," Sam laughed.

"Little shit," Dean snorted as he pulled out onto the street and headed for what passed for downtown. "I’m not going to miss the crap you give me."

"Damn right you are. I’m the only one who can put you in your place short stuff."

Dean rolled his eyes at that and reached over to turn up the radio.

Laughing Sam slid back on the seat and let the music wash over him, living the moment and soaking up being with Dean. Reaching out he threaded one of his hands through the other man’s and squeezed. "I love you, you know that right?"

Dean opened his mouth to make a wise crack, then shut it again and nodded. "Yeah, I know that - same with me, ‘kay?"

"Never doubted it for a second, never will," Sam replied smiling.

"Exactly. So you just worry about keeping up with the other eggheads out there in the land of sun and fun and leave the ass-kicking to me."

"Just... stay safe, okay? Don’t let Dad talk you into doing anything that will get you dead. Call me selfish but I want you around for a long long time."

"Dude, do you think I’m stupid?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam.

"Not stupid just... you don’t look after yourself, Dean, you always put Dad and me first. I’m not gonna be around to kick your ass if you try and do something stupid so you gotta be careful, man, promise me," Sam replied, his grip on Dean’s hand becoming tighter as they pulled onto the street where the bus station was located.

Dean held off answering until he’d pulled up at the curb near the station. "I promise, Sammy," he said quietly, half turning in his seat to look at his brother. "Besides, do you think I’d miss being around to see you crowned doctor of whatever the hell you’re going to study?"

"Kings get crowned, Dean," Sam laughed. "I’ll just get a piece of paper." Throwing caution to the wind, Sam leaned over and, wrapping his hand around Dean’s necklace he tugged the other man forward and captured Dean’s mouth with his own, pouring every ounce of love, passion and lust he had for Dean into the kiss.

"You take care of yourself, Sammy," Dean whispered, his lips brushing against Sam’s as he hugged him close, slipping a thick roll of bills in the younger man’s pocket while he was distracted. "Call me and let me know you didn’t fall in the can on the ride out, okay?"

"Dean, man..." Sam’s voice grew horse and his eyes watery. Fuck, he was gonna cry after all. "Just... you know..." Getting out the car before he turned into a complete pussy, Sam grabbed his gear and then turned and waved to Dean before walking into the terminal, refusing to allow himself even a final backwards glance.

As the closing of the car door echoed hollowly in the air around him, Dean swallowed hard, clenching his jaw as he took his feelings and squashed them down inside himself, knowing it was the only way he could survive.

He sat there in the car until the single bus at the station pulled out, then he started the car, driving home blindly and sitting in the driveway long enough that his father came out to see what was wrong.

Taking a shuddering breath, Dean locked the door on his emotions and plastered a fake grin on his face. "So, Dad," he called as he climbed out of the Impala, "what about those rakashas?"